Nehantish: Cultural Divide (Closed, Firgrin, Dasq and Estelle)

[Nehantish]

From above, Nehantish appeared to be just a ball of desolate sand, with only a few pockets of trees or water. But as the spacecraft approached the largest spaceport on the planet, a vast field of buildings became visible. Many of them were ancient mud-brick or cut-stone buildings, hundreds of years old, but still there stood new structures, and modified buildings to suit current needs. The Arabic flavor of the desert world’s culture still seemed painted heavily upon it all, though.

The afternoon sky rumbled with the deafening roar of transport engines. A bloated, much-repaired personnel craft slowly eased to the buckling concrete landing field, and an aging Nehantite in blue coveralls and cap drove his dilapidated mobile stairway to the side of the craft, puffing on a cigarette as he went.

The staircase bumped against the side of the transport with little ease, and the driver was forced to back up and retry his alignment twice before finally getting it right. As the craft’s hatch opened, the driver nodded to the grounds crew wh o were already arriving with their short train of luggage carts, and then waved to his friend in the passenger shuttle. Walkways that led directly into the Nehantite Interstellar Spaceport no longer existed; they had been removed when the Nehantites routed the Imperial forces that built the station in the first place.

Though much had been done to give the spaceport a facelift to disguise much of its original intent, but the stark, oppressive military feel of the Imperial architecture remained. Only now it was covered by paint, and rather lame regional decorative themes, as well as directional signs for those arriving to find the baggage claim, rental cars, restrooms and other necessary places. Everywhere there were Nehantites to be seen. Some working diligently at low-pay jobs, others waiting to catch a flight they know is going to be late, and still others waiting to pick up friends and family members.

One such Nehantite was a young male, about the age of sixteen. His fur was a pale, sandy yellow, and he sported what a youth his age would call dress clothes: khaki slacks, brown shoes, a black belt and a light blue button-down dress shirt with the collar unfastened. His chunky digital watch and multiple earrings brought whatever classy look he might have had back to normal, though. In his paws was a printed sign that simply read, “Jedi,” and he looked out over the incoming passengers, just as he had for the past two hours. No transports ever arrived on time at the spaceport, but he had to be there early, just in case. Taking a moment to adjust the waistband of his pants, the youth’s tail twitched out of sheer boredom, and he turned back to look over his shoulder to see if anything interesting was happening there, not realizing that his party was just about to round the corner in front of him.

[Figrin D'an]

Figrin D'an stepped out into the warmth of sunlight for the first time in more than a week, since departing Coruscant. The trip had been long in it's own way, even though the Jedi Master had endured far more lengthy intragalactic journeys in his lifetime. It was intense, the sunlight on his face, though it felt good at least for the moment. It brought a welcome feeling of adventure, knowing that it was sunlight belonging to a world he had never before stepped foot upon.

Carrying just his unassuming traveling pack, he stepped down the rampway into the main thoroughfare of the spaceport, followed by Estelle Russard, a fellow Jedi Master, and Dasquian Belargic, a Jedi Knight of Hallaerian decent. With Figrin leading the way, the group was able to follow the signs (which were fortunately in Basic as well as native Nehantite) to the baggage claim area, locate their luggage, and begin the walk out towards the large waiting room and transport kiosks.

It was almost overwhelming to scan the entire massive center, filled with Nehantites arriving and departing, or at work, or meeting others. The three Jedi were among a small number of alien visitors arriving, far outnumbered by Nehantites coming and going. Nehantish, while finally opening up to outsiders, was by all indications still far from being a common stop on most hyperspace travel lists.

After looking around for a few moments, Figrin turned to his companions.

"We're probably going to have to wait until our 'escort' finds us. I see little way of locating him, and to be honest, we stick out like rancors. He should be able to spot us eventually."

"Let's see if we can find a place to sit down over there," he motioned, pointed to a line of bench seats that lined a far wall. The three Jedi slowly made there way through the busy promanade, weaving between pockets of Nehantites, several of whom paused to briefly observe the trio as they passed.

Following the bench-lined walls, Figrin, Estelle and Dasquian all looked for some free space to sit and rest for a few moments, finally rounding a corner into a smaller adjunct area of the larger waiting room. It was at that moment they all simultaneously spotted a lone Nehantite, standing casually and glancing around himself as any non-Nehantite walked past him. He held a sign that displayed a single word, "Jedi."

"So much for an anonymous arrival," Figrin remarked quietly.

The three Jedi walked towards the young Nehantite male, who turned and spotted them as they approached. He was clearly excited and hopeful that the aliens walking towards him were the ones he sought.

Before the young man could even make an inquiry to that effect, Figrin stepped close to him and gently pushed the sign downward.

"We would like our arrival to remain quiet, and avoid any unnecessary advertising of our presence," the Jedi Master murmored calmly. "It would be best to put the sign away." Figrin smiled slightly, indicating that he was not chastising the young man, simply making a polite request.

"My name is Figrin D'an," he said, at a more audible level. He motioned to the other Jedi. "This is Estelle Russard, and this is Dasquian Belargic. We are here on behalf of the Republic and... those mentioned on your sign."

[Nehantish]

The youth had never actually seen a Jedi before, other than in pictures, and he was somehow a little underwhelmed, yet excited at the same time. Letting his sign down to his side, the young man nodded and replied, "Good to meet you, Mr. D'an, Ms. Russard, and Mr. Belargic. I'm Asaetar Tesh, but you can call me Ace, everybody does."

Looking back toward the doorway, then back to his group, he smiled and said, "I've, um, got the car parked out in the lot, there, I'll take you to the hotel. I've been assigned to you as an aide, so if you have any questions about anything, please ask, and I'll tell you what you want if I know the answer. Here, let me get those," he leaned over and picked up two of the bags, realizing later that they were heavier than they looked, but he was too proud, and wanted to make a good impression, so he didn't dare put one back down. "Follow me, it's just out this way."

Stepping out of the airport's air conditioning and into the full blast of the sun was something Ace was used to, but still didn't really like. The walkways around the main terminals were crowded, and he had to stop every now and then to make sure that he wasn't losing his company already. It was his first real job for the govenrment offices, and he wanted to show he was capable of handling it on his own. "Just over there, the third one on the left, the black sedan," Ace nodded his head to a large, black luxury car with a royal emblem emblazoned on the front door of each side.

Popping the spacious trunk, Ace loaded their bags, and then unlocked the doors, bidding them to take a seat, and buckle up, not realizing that ground-based vehicles were not that common off-planet. Finally getting in himself, Ace pulled the shoulder belt across his chest and buckled it, then realized he had left the keys in his pocket, then had to unbuckle, fish them out, and buckle up once more. Turning the key in the igniton, the engine came to life, and he set the car in reverse, though remembering to take the parking brake off first that time. He had forgotten earlier that day. "You all comfortable back there?" he asked, then pulled out into the main driving lane, shifted into drive, and pressed on into the outbound traffic, stopping at the toll booth to pay for parking, then entering the main roadway.

"Hotel isn't very far," he announced, "Only about fifteen minutes away. You guys are lucky, you've got some great rooms. I'll be there too, but down in the economy suites, in case you need me in the middle of the night or something. I'll also be your driver, and a few other things as well. " A short silence passed in the car, and Ace nervously gripped the wheel before asking, "So, um, I guess you're here about Sejah, huh?"

[Figrin D'an]

The question surprised Figrin. He didn't realize the young aide, who was likely on one of the lower levels in the Nehantite interplanetary affairs heirarchy, was aware of the reason for the Jedi journey to his planet. That he referred to Sejah by first name was even more of a shock.

"That's right," the Jedi replied curiously.

"Just how well publicized is our reason for being here?," he inquired, after a few moments of awkward silence. "Padawan Haversh obviously has gained some fame for what has occured in recent times, but how many people know about this... situation?"

[Nehantish]

Carefully taking a corner, Ace replied, "Everybody knows about Sejah, it's the biggest scandal to hit since... um, I think since the Empire was here."

He quickly stepped on the brake as a bicyclist sped out in front of him. "Stupid prick!" he yelled out the window. "Watch where you're going!"

Turning his attention back to his passengers, he continued, "But as far as you all being here, hardly anybody knows. I mean, yeah, everybody knows who Sejah is, and that he's now with you guys and stuff, so I kind of guessed that's why you're here. Not like you'd suddenly take an interest in us Nehantites or nothing. That never happens. As far as how many know about what's goin' on now, I'd say only a handful outside the courts and uppity-ups and stuff. They don't like admitting that they couldn't stop him from escaping, so they don't publicize much about him anymore. Well, except the usual propaganda, but that's nothing new."

Pulling into the parking lot of the hotel, Ace wound the car down two flights of ramps before pulling into a reserved parking spot and shutting the engine off. "Well, we're here. I'll get your bags loaded up and get us checked in. Dunno what time zone you're from, but it's mid-morning here, so lunch won't be in full swing until about two or three hours from now," he explained as he got out of the car, then jogged off to get a brass baggage cart. Loading their things onto it, the youth then guided them to the elevator, and across the lobby where they recieved their room keycards, and then took the express elevator up to their rooms, which were near he top floor.

"Okay, well, I'll let you get settled in," Ace said, leaving them with their baggage cart. "If you need me, I'll be down in room 3-49. Your room service will be paid for by the govenrment, but I've been instructed to ask you to please be reasonable with it. I was supposed to have some mobile phones to give each of you, but they weren't ready on time, so I'll have to check on those here this afternoon. As far as directions go around the city, you'd be better off asking the hotel concierge. You've got a two-o-clock appointment set with the Inquistor Secondary tomorrow, and I can drive you there. Good meeting you, and I hope I can be of help. Even though they say Sejah was a bad guy, I don't believe it. Watching him fight, you can tell things like that. Hope you can get him off the hook."

[Dasquian Belargic]

“Thank you for your help, Ace.”

Dasquian smiled pleasantly to their helper as he began to remove some of the trio’s luggage from the baggage cart. Their arrival on the planet was still fresh in the Knight’s mind, and would not likely settle in for some time yet. The scenery, the people, the climate; it was all new and exciting. His curiosity was more than piqued. With their first official duty not scheduled until tomorrow, he hoped they would have the chance to explore the world of Nehantish properly.

It did not take long to unload their belongings. Everyone was traveling as light as could be afforded, if not for practicality and time saving, then to slim the chances that they would be noticed for their grand entrance. After all, they did not want a fuss made over them. When Dasquian opened the door to their suite, however, it seemed that this could not be avoided. The luxurious furnishings and decorum of the room was unbecoming of a Jedi, but it would have been rude of them to decline it.

“I was hoping we might be able to experience a more authentic stay,” Dasquian remarked, as he dropped his bags at the edge of a particularly expensive looking rug. He breathed a heavy sigh, thankful at least for the air conditioning in the room – a welcome change from the stifling heat outside. Looking then to Figrin, whom he saw as the head of their team, he inquired, “What’s our first port of call, Master D’an?”

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle had not said very much since their arrival planetside. Apart from polite "hello" and "thankyou" to their youthful guide, Ace, she had been close mouthed, preferring to absorb the sights, sounds, sensations around her and leaving the necessary communications to Master Figrin.

Even now, as Dasquian lifted their baggage from the brass cart and deposited it in a neat semi-circle about his feet, Estelle moved quietly further into the suite in order to look around.

Leading from the main room, which was furnished with comfortable settees and a writing desk with a matching chair set along one wall, were three doors. These, in turn, lead into three bedrooms, each boasting their own neat and functional bathroom. Fluffy pale blue towells accented against sand-stone colored bath and basins. Estelle noted the bathrooms complimented the decor of each bedroom, whose bedcoverings and upolsterings were of the same subdued colors though in running patterns of oblique shapes woven between lazy swirls. Much like the situation we find ourselves in the middle of, she mused inwardly. Just as the shapes intertwined with the swirls, there was no clear, unwaivering path in which to tread with the Nehantish authorities. She found herself fighting the first nigglings of uncertainty that came from feeling the isolation the distance of Nehantish from Corsuscant brought to her, together with seeing first-hand the enormous cultural differences between this people and the Jedi Order. For instance, a ground-traversing vehicle - what was that? Did they not have hydraulic technology that was basic to hover craft? While the ride was smooth enough, though subject to a little jostling going over bumpy terrain, Estelle thought it must be inconvenient when one needed to go over hills or even large buildings. How was that accomplished? Even in her rural Tr' Nuva they had traditional speeders and the like, and that was a backwater farming community. She sat breifly on the bed, tentatively at first, then more relaxed. Atleast that felt reasuringly familiar. A regular matress by the feel of it.

Figrin and Dasquian's voices brought her back into the main room. Thank goodness for the both of them, she thought. It was going to take all the wisdom and diplomacy the three of them could pool together for this mission to be successful. And it must be successful. Sejah's life depended on it.

Ace had summed it up earlier - "Even though they say Sejah was a bad guy, I don't believe it. Watching him fight, you can tell things like that. Hope you can get him off the hook"

Off the hook...what an odd expression. Estelle wondered if that was a Nehantism, and if so, where it had originated from. The thought was lost however as she tuned back into the conversation at hand, and gave her full attention to Figrin and Dasquian.

[Figrin D'an]

"Considering the circumstances, we should attempt to keep a low profile," he replied to Dasquian. "We don't need to attract any more attention to the situation than already exists. I recommend we get organized for tomorrow afternoon's meeting, then look into getting something to eat. I want to see about contacting the caretaker of J'ktal's home in the morning. Knowing J'ktal, he likely has informed him to expect a call from us."

Estelle reentered the main room, approaching them both.

"Before we go anywhere, we should consider changing out of our Jedi attire and into something more casual and less noticable. I'd rather be overly cautious than too relaxed during our time here."

Figrin took his luggage to the remaining unoccupied bedroom of the three, and began to unpack. His mind was far from focused on the simple task of sorting clothing and belongings, though. The initial meeting couldn't come quickly enough, but not because he relished the task ahead. The mission, up to this point, had been operating in the dark. Despite he help given to them by J'ktal, none of them really knew what to expect of the Sultan and his government. At least from the first meeting, the Jedi could finally gain some measure of what they would face in the battle for Sejah's life. Knowledge was power, and until he could observe the attitude of the Nehantite upper class firsthand, there was little way to combat them across the table of diplomacy.

After sorting through his notes, confident he was prepared for the next day (at least as prepared as he could be, given the circumstances) the Jedi Master changed into plain pair of khaki trousers, and a pullover shirt of a similar color. He completed the outfit with comfortable-fiting vest, which contained a built-in holster specifically designed for a lightsabre. He affixed his sabre inside the vest, hiding it from view, but still making it easily accessible.

Returning to the main room, he sat down on the couch, relaxing as he waited for Dasquian and Estelle to join him. Stretching his arms and legs, he gave a soft yawn, allowing his gaze to fall on nothing in particular. He visually scanned the room, taking in it's posh interior and luxurious accomadations. While certain offering comfort during their stay, he didn't completely trust the privacy it may offer. His Jedi intuition told him they were being monitored in some way.

He would have to bring it up with his comrades at an appropriate time, and in a more secure location.

[Nehantish]

Ace rapped his paw on the door, then pushed it gently open, seeing as it hadn't been shut all the way. "Uh, hello?" he called, making sure that the Jedi were still there. When he spotted Figrin, already changed, the youth straightened his posture and cleared his throat so that he could speak normally.

"Um, I've got those phones for you guys now," he said, extending a flip-style mobile phone in a leather case to Figrin. "Got one for each of you. They've got kinetic batteries, so you don't need to charge them, just wear them and they'll keep charged. At least that's what the guy told me."

Fishing his paw back into his pocket, he pulled out a rumpled piece of paper, then straightened it out. "If you, uh, need to reach me, here's my number; they got one for me, too. I've got all yours, just in case, too. So, um, I think that's about it. Need me to drive you anywhere?"

<img src=http://www.nehantish.com/ace.jpg>

[Estelle Russard]

Estelle looked up from where she sat, reclining in a deep, comfortable chair at Ace's return. Her hair, still wet from the quick shower she had taken before changing in to less-conspicuous Jedi attire as Figrin had suggested, was pulled back into a tight pony-tail. Dressed in lavender pants and a white t-shirt, she looked fresh and re-energized from when Ace had last left them.

Reaching forward, she took the offered telephone.

"That is very thoughtful, Ace, thankyou"

Standing, - the low-heeled boots she wore added two inches to her height, but she still was shorter than all in the room -
she attached the telephone to the edge of her pants as best she could.

Ace noticed that the three Jedi appeared ready to go out. Estelle confirmed this deduction.

"So, we ready to go eat?" she swept them with a quick look before confiding to Ace, "I could eat a bantha whole."

[Dasquian Belargic]

Dasquian looked something of an oddity in civilian clothes and, as he looked himself over once more in the mirror, wondered if he wouldn’t attract more attention this way than he would have been in his robes. He wore grey slacks and a polo shirt to match. It would have been smart to pack a hat of some kind, but he’d somehow managed to overlook that thought previously. Oh well. Tucking his saber carefully out of site, he shook his head.

“So, we ready to go eat?” Righting himself, he nodded curtly and took the phone that had been offered to him. He looked at it for a moment, before realizing he was holding it upside down, and quickly pushed it away into his pocket with a discreet chuckle.

“Oh certainly. I can’t wait to try some local cuisine. Is there anything you’d recommend trying, Ace?”

[Nehantish]

"Uhh..." was the only word that could escape Ace's mouth as it hung open mometatily. Try as he might to think quickly, his youth an innexperience were massive stumbling blocks in even answering such a simple question. He came from the middle class; he didn't know great places to eat.

Clearing his throat and regainign his composure, Ace finally was able to reply, "Um, well, I personally don't know of many great restaurants, but, I'm sure we can find whatever you like. Looking for something traditional, or more modern, off-world cuisine? I better warn you, traditional Nehantite food can get a little spicy, and it might not be in your best interest to ask what it is you're eating all the time."

[Egads, sorry that took SO LONG to get done. I had almost forgotten about this thread, and I don't want it to doe, for Sejah's future hinges on it.]

[Dasquian Belargic]

Noting Ace’s apparent apprehension in answering his question, Dasquian smiled genially. “I think we’d all like to try to sample as much as your culture as possible while we’re here, even if that does mean trying something a little more adventurous. It seems to be that it would be not only a waste, but also an insult, to come all this way only to demand that the Nehantites accommodate us by cooking food we’re used to.”

Still adjusting to his attire, Dasquian pushed his hands into his pockets, and failed miserably at trying to look inconspicuous. “Plus, it would give us a chance to see a little more of the planet beyond these gilded hotel rooms.”

[Nehantish]

[Per news from Figrin, Estelle is being removed from this RP because she is away for an indefinite length of time, so proceed as if it were only Figrin and Dasquain who came to Nehantish.]

Asaetar breathed a mental sigh of releif. These Jedi weren't as brash and demanding as he had been told they would be. In fact, they seemed genuinely friendly, and understanding. Now at all what he had been led to believe. Though he did have to stifle a smile at Dasquain's appearance.

"Well, I might know of a few places," he replied. "If you'll follow me down to the car, I can see if I can find one of them. "

Dropping his own cellular phone into his pocket, Ace led the Jedi back to the elevator, and down to garage once more, though removing and reseating one of the four earrings on his left ear along the way. Earrings were not uncommon among either gender in Nehantite society, but usually on males they were reserved to only one in the left ear, near the top in the back, which Ace did sport along with three more that studded lower parts of his ear. It was a fad, most parents hoped.

After another car ride, the young aide finally pulled into the parking lot of an ancient stone building. Along the way he had explained a little about Nehantite architecture, and how old some of the buildings in the city really were, while some newer ones had been constructed to look like older structures. But, already the tangy spice of Nehantite cooking could be smelled on the air as the trio stepped out of the car, and Ace locked it behind them. It was, by all means, a traditional restaurant, and had been in business for over a hundred years; well before the Empire had come and changed life on Nehantish forever.

Leading the two jedi to the door, Ace then stopped and said, "I don't know your customs as far as dining with strangers goes, so, if you'd like I can get a seperate table so that you two can talk about whatever."

[Figrin D'an]

Ace certainly had a subservient nature, likely engrained into him by his society, and the fact that he suggested seperate tables was yet another indication of this. While the Jedi had every intention of honoring Nehantite tradition and custom during official business, dining was a different matter. Though he might not always be accustomed to it, Figrin and Dasquian would show him all the respect they would show anyone working with them.

"No, Ace, that won't be necessary," Figrin said assuredly. "I think we'd enjoy dining with you. Perhaps you can give us some greater insights into your culture that will be helpful to us. And, you can also help us order, as neither of us is particularly familar with Nehantite cuisine."

He smiled, doing his best to make the young mongoose comfortable. Ace seemed to appreciate the gesture, though it may have been foreign to him. Figrin and Dasquian followed him into the restaurant, and the two Jedi took in their surroundings, both sights and smells, as Ace made arrangements for a table.

"It's amazing that this much of the native Nehantite culture survived the Empire's occupation," Figrin quietly commented to Dasquian. "I've heard some very disturbing accounts of what the Imperials did here. It rivals the brutality they showed the Wookies when they invaded Kashyyyk and enslaved the populous."

[Nehantish]

"I wouldn't know too much of it," Ace said as he turned back to let them sit first, not having realized that the comment wasn't meant for him. His kind's sensitive ears picked up things better than many humans. Amazingly even his after all the loud music he liked to listen to. "That was all before I was born. Here, have a seat."

The tables in the restuarant were low, highly polished wood surrounded by cusions directly on the floor with one side raised to lean on should one desire to. Ace sat down crosslegged on his pillow and reached out to take a drink of ice water from the brass cup before him. It was very much the traditional restaurant, a little more ritzy than the common folk could afford, but by no means exclusive. Small lamps on the walls mimicked old oil lamps, though the one on the center of the table definitely burned with a real flame. Old style music played over the restuarant's sound system, the stage empty except for friday and saturday nights, and the servers dressed in old world clothing. It was like stepping back in time before Nehantites even knew that life existed beyond their skies.

After they had become settled, a server came by and nodded, then greeted them in Nehantite. Ace answered back in Basic, and the conversation was carried on in that so all could understand it. "I'll have a Sprite," the young aide said, "What would you two care to drink? It's, uh, on the Agency, so feel free to order whatever."

When the two jedi had placed their order, the server quickly went on his way, leaving them with menus and reccomendations of what was best that day. Ace knew what he was going to get, but wondered what off-worlders would think of his race's food, and what they thought of his race in general.

[Dasquian Belargic]

Before perusing the menu, Dasquian took the time to admire his surroundings. It was, indeed, quite remarkable that the culture had withstood the Imperial blight. There was a raffish charm about it all, which was quite enchanting. This type of rustic authenticity was exactly what he had hoped to see. Somehow, it made him feel quite at home, and the thought that he and Figrin probably stuck out like sore thumbs was the furthest notion from his mind at that moment. Reading the menu in his hands, by the light of the flickering oil lamp, he found himself unable to recognize most of the dishes. Though a few familiar words stood out, many were alien and Dasquian wasn’t sure that he’d be able to get his tongue around pronouncing them, let alone eating them.

“I’ll have whatever you are, Ace.” Decision made, Dasquian closed his menu. A few tables beyond theirs, a family of locals were dining. One of the younger children had noticed the foreign pair and was struggling to escape its mothers grasp, so that it could investigate further. At the sight of this, the Jedi Knight chuckled quietly. It was then that the question of what Ace thought of them popped into his mind. He wondered, silently, whether the mongoose had as any questions for them as they for him.

[Nehantish]

"You sure about that?" Asaetar asked, cocking an eyebrow at Dasquain. "Well, if you insist, but if you don't like it, it's not my fault."

Smiling, the youth leaned on the side of his cushion, and took another drink from his water. The Jedi intruiged him, and there were so many things he wanted to know, but wasn't sure where to start. He knew, as most of the populace did, that their govenrment lied to them about many things, and Ace was farily certain that the Jedi were one of them. His pink eyes looked over his two charges, each so different from himself, and still distinctly different from each other.

The one known as Figrun seemed secure and confident, no matter where he was. Obviously he was the senior officer of the two, and the other one with the long yellow hair and odd ears showed signs of old style combat training, but also appeared more nervous and apprehensive than his counterpart, probably having served a shorter time with the Jedi cult. Then again, Ace couldn't imagine how he must look to them; young, innexperienced and meek. He wanted to show them that he was good for something, and that he really was capable of things, but how? What could he do that might impress these soldiers of fortune who had seen more of the galaxy than he could ever dream of?

Well, he could start by ordering their lunch, at least. When their waiter returned, the young Nehantite ordered for himself and for Dasquain, with Figrin braving it on his own. The waiter was sliglty annoyed at Figrin's butchering of the name of the dish, but when he saw the Royal Seal pin that Ace wore on the lapel of his shirt, he brightened up noticably.

Finally, with their main server off to the kitchen to place their order, a second server came by with a brass tray carrying a few small, ornate cups, as well as a marvelously crafted brass coffee pot. With practiced grace, he set a cup and saucher before each guest, then filled them with steaming, black coffee from the long, elegant stem of the pot. Nodding in completion of his work, the server left as quietly as he had come. Ace picked up his cup, which was nearly half the size of a common coffee cup, and took a sip, careful not to get too much at once. As with most of his race, he enjoyed coffee greatly, though wasn't able to drink such high quality roast very often. If the Jedi were expecting anything like their coffee at home, they were in for quite a surprise. Nehantite coffee was thicker, and nearly three times as strong, also flavored with a touch of cinnamon.

"So, um," Ace started, trying to figure out what he wanted to say without being rude. "What's it like to be a Jedi, and have all those powers and hunt down people and stuff? And, how come not everybody has superpowers like you?"

[Dasquian Belargic]

Even the scent of the coffee pot in front of him was enough to tell Dasquian that it wasn’t quite like the instant stimcaff that he was used to. While Yogs Bar and Grill prided themselves on offering a veritable feast of food and drinks, from all cultures, he was almost certain that this particular type of caff was not on the menu. Never the less, he took a sip and felt the buzz of the caffeine almost instantly, a warm tingle bubbling in his stomach. Barely able to contain a fit of coughing, he smiled politely at Ace.

“Well, not everyone is born with the potential to be a Jedi, and even those who are don’t always have the inclination or motivation to become one. It takes a lot of hard work and patience, and many people simply don’t have the dedication to get through the training – which is quite fortunate, really, as it allows us to determine fairly early on who is and isn’t serious about becoming a Jedi.”

He paused a moment to think, and to allow Figrin to interject if he felt it apt. When nothing was said, Dasquian continued.

“As for hunting people down,” he chuckled, “I can’t say that’s a large part of our ‘job’. Jedi are scholars, negotiators and peacekeepers, foremost. That is where many people fall short, you see. They see only the lightsaber. Being a Jedi is about more than just being able to read peoples thoughts or move things with your mind… it’s about upholding standards. That’s not to say, of course, that some Jedi don’t study forms of combat… there have been many great Jedi warriors,” he added then, as an afterthought. “But we don’t encourage them to use physical force in place of more peaceful solutions.”

[Nehantish]

Ace casually sipped his coffee, listening with interest, but clearly growing concerned.

"But I thought you all were like bounty hunters and bodyguards and stuff," he said, confused from the image he had previously seen the Jedi as. "I mean, your group has to make money, so you train people to be super-powered hunters and use your mental powers to stop those who you can't beat physically. We've heard about what happened to Sejah when he was attacked mentally, and learned that the same would happen to all our race."

The youth was nervous, and rightfully so. The identity he had always associated with the Jedi cult of warriors might not be the truth, unless these Jedi were lying to him now, which he had been warned might happen. Still, they seemed honest enough. "What... what about Sejah? What kind of Jedi is he?"

[Figrin D'an]

Dasquian had done an eloquent job of explaining the basis of the Jedi to Ace, and Figrin was content to simply sip his own cup of coffee, slowly taking in it's powerful taste and strong yet soothing aroma, and allow the younger Jedi to take the reigns of conversation. The Nehantite was clearly curious about the Jedi, but his existing impressions were very much tainted, likely by what Figrin presumed was propaganda from the Nehantite government. Before they had departed Coruscant, J'ktal, the Death Shadow turned Jedi Knight, had told them that his people's perception of outsiders was often far from accurate, and the Jedi were clearly no exception to that rule.

"The Jedi are trained in the ways of combat, and there are times we must use our abilities to that end," Figrin at last spoke. "But we temper that power with knowledge and wisdom, and the belief that we must use our talents to serve the greater good. As Jedi, we take a solemn oath to serve the people of the Republic, protect the innocent and help those in need. Our Order teaches this first and foremost. We never use our powers without cause, or against those who have done no wrong."

"Sejah has been trained in this same manner," the Jedi Master continued. "Like all other students at the Jedi Academy, he is learning to be a scholar, a diplomat and to use his abilities to help others. He is skilled in the ways of combat, as I'm sure you are aware, but that is mearly one small part of being a Jedi."

Figrin took another sip from his cup, reflecting upon how much he should say regarding Sejah. His padawan had become something akin to a cult hero to the Nehantite people, leading the Jedi Master to believe caution would be advised when discussing him.

[Nehantish]

"I'll bet he kicks but with those lightsaber things," Ace said with a grin, then calmed himself after realizing how he must have sounded.

The youth was saved from further embarassment by the arrival of their waiter bearing a tray weighted down by their order. Both Ace and Dasquain had ordered the same dish, while Figrin opted for something of his own choosing. Should the others try and identify what was before them, they would be hard-pressed to get it right. Before Ace lay a plate of something like fried eggplant, a steaming pile of native vegetables, and a large steak of a meat that didn't appear to be beef that had been cut into long, thin strips and covered with a strongly scented cauce. Ace debated about telling Dasquain exactly what it was, but he decided that it could wait until later, that way the Jedi might not opt to go hungry.

Setting his coffee down, the blonde mongoose looked to the others in silence, then bowed his head, folding his paws. In a quiet voice, he spoke aloud, "Heavenly Father, I kneel before you with friends and hope that I have honored you. Thank you for my position, and for all that has been granted me; and thank you for guiding the safe travel of these men from afar. May their judgement be clear, and may your will be done in this matter. Thank you for our health, and for this food before us. Bless it, and may we not stray from your path. Amen."

When he opened his eyes, he saw that they were both looking at him, and he felt uncomfortable. Donning a disarming smile, he said, "Uh, dig in."

[Figrin D'an]

Choosing to move past the awkwardness of the moment of prayer, Figrin abided by Ace's request, and began to eat. Hopefully, the moment was not too much of a cross-cultural issue. The majority of Nehantite people, as Figrin had been told by both Sejah and J'ktal, were deeply spiritual and quite religious... at least more so that most cultures in the galaxy. The Jedi Master wondered if Ace might bring up the subject at some point in the future, since the young man seemed so curious about what went on beyond the skies of his own world.

Figrin cut a small piece of meat from the steak-like item on his plate. It looked not all that dissimilar from any number of meats he had encountered, though he noted it was extremely lean, have little to no fat content. It was glazed with a sauce that he could not identify. The smell was not as strong as the odor from the dish order by Ace and Dasquian, which seemed to linger above the table and obscure most other smells unless placed close to the nose. He, at last, took a bite.

The flavor didn't immediately kick in, but when it did, it was strong enough to be overpowering. Holding in any impulse to gag, Figrin simply coughed a bit behind his closed mouth, and slowly chewed and swallowed. He reached for his glass of water, washing away the aftertaste. The steak wasn't bad... it was actually a good flavor... it simply was more powerful than anything he had ever experienced. Thinking it was perhaps the sauce, he carefully removed any excess from the meat, leaving just a tiny amount that he would actually dare to consume.

Quickly turning from the matter of the meal, the Jedi chose to strike up further conversation.

"So, Ace," he began, "how did you come into your line of work?"

[Nehantish]

Asaetar stifled a chuckle at Figrin's reaction, but said nothing, instead digging into his own meal. It was obvious that the Jedi did not hold the same reverence for Garfife as he did, but he had heard his voice befoe, and knew he existed.

When the topic shifted to himself, immediately Ace grew nervous again. The last thing he wanted was for them to think he was unskilled or a novice. Both of which he was in a terrible way. The youth fiddled with his fork as he finished his motuful, and took a sip of coffee before answering in order to give him time to think.

"I'm afraid it's not that exciting of a story," he began, sitting back and setting his fork down. "My parents are both middle class, so I get to go do a good school, and every now and then opportunities arise that allow a few select beasts like me to have the chance at moving up to the next class level. I did a series of tests at school, and applied for all the State requirements, and after about a year of working at that, and working hard in school, I got a letter saying that an opening had been made for me in State Service. So, I show up, and a month of after-school training later, here I am." Ace smiled, apparently nervous. There would be no hiding his lack of experience, and he finally made the decision to not even try to.

"If I do a good job, and keep myself out of trouble, I might be promoted to Second Class Citizenship, which, I don't know how much you know about it, is a really big deal. But, I have to work ten years for the government and perform exemplary before my review comes up." Raising his cup, Ace cocked a grin and said, "So, to my first assignment, and hoping I don't bungle things right out of the box."

[Figrin D'an]

"We'll do our best to make sure your first assignment isn't too strenuous," Figrin offered. "Ideally, we hope to have the matter in question resolved in a few days." Things rarely proceeded in an ideal manner, however, something of which the Jedi was keenly aware.

The remainder of the meal was spent fairly quiet, and each of the three focused on eating. There was some lightly interspersed conversation about the local climate and weather, places of note for sight-seeing, the origin of the lightsabre and how it works, and what it was like on other planets, particuarly Coruscant. (Figrin and Dasquian attempted to explain how the entire planet was one large city, and that most of the buildings were thousands of stories tall, but somehow they didn't think Ace quite appreciated the description).

The waiter cleared the table after the group was finished, inquiring about dessert as he did so. They politely declined (Figrin had a feeling that the main course would be difficult enough for his digestive system to handle without anything else), and Ace took care of the bill and tip. They exited the same doorway from which they had entered, emerging to the dry Nehantish air.

"We have some time before we really need to back at the hotel," the Jedi Master commented. "I wouldn't mind getting to know the city a bit better. It may come in handy."

[Dasquian Belargic]

Dasquian had maintained a polite silence through most of the conversation through dinner, something which Ace no doubt had attributed to the meal. To say that he had not enjoyed it would have been a lie, but it had certainly been tricky to digest – the waiter had refilled their water jug numerous times over as a result. Now outside, feeling a little more settled, the Jedi finally spoke. “Yes, any places worthy of note,” he agreed, then smiling apologetically as a loud rumble emanated from his stomach.

[Nehantish]

Ace had fairly well stuffed himself at the meal, knowing he wasn't going to eat that well all the time, but he had kept his table manners about him. While he had breifly described the city to them oer dinner, the youth thought harder about what places they might actually enjoy seeing.

"Well, if you're looking to learn a little more about Sejah, you might want to take a look at the Rho'istaan tournament grounds," he suggested. "They say they've been around since the reign of Ramastan the Great. There's also the Royal Museum, if you want to learn a little history, or there's also the market district, though that's sort of been turned from what it used to be into more of a touristy area."

Thinking harder, he also suggested the Royal Academy, as well as just giving them the full city tour by car.

[Dasquian Belargic]

Dasquian agreed that the tournament grounds and the museum would be excellent choices of locations to visit – in particular the latter, as it could give the Jedi further knowledge and insight into the alien culture in which they found themselves. His interest in the tournament grounds however was more of a personal curiosity, one to learn more about what had shaped Sejah into the man he was today. In the end if they had the time Dasquian thought it would be beneficial to visit as many places as possible, to get a good feel for the planet and its people – and also because he wasn’t sure when or if they would ever return to Nehantish again. Particularly if the outcome of their business here was not favorable.

[Nehantish]

Traffic slowly became heavier, and Ace was tempted to use the car's lights and siren to get a clear path, but he stopped himself, knowing those were only for emergency. Besides, when most drivers saw the large black automobine with the royal crest embazoned in gold on the side, they allowed it safe passage. Nobeast dared disrupt the travel of a dignitary.

The pair of Jedi were quiet again in the back seat--something that worried Ace greatly. Not that he wanted there to be chatter all the time, but they were so polite that there be something that displeased them, they might not say anything so he would never know. Again he checked the inside temperature, making sure it would be cool enough for his foreign guests.

They arrived at the Royal Museum in decent time, and Ace pulled into the private parking lot so that they would have a short distance to travel to the massive front doors. The Museum had once been a great castle, and it still stood an imposing figure amidst the rest of the downtown city block. A flash of his badge of appointment allowed Ace to bring the Jedi in ahead of the rest of the line, unchecked. He had been to the museum several times before, mostly on school trips and for research projects. The young Nehantite liked to consider himself a history buff, but even he wasn't naive enough to belive he truly knew all that much.

A hall of sculpture began the tour, with a massive pyramidical structure in the center of the room peaked with an elaborately carved stone sarcophagus and a larger than life statue of a heroic lookign male kept decent by an artisitc swash of cloth. Ace stopped to look at it, bowing his ehad in reverence. "The tomb of Ramastan the Great," he whispered to the Jedi, "He changed the course of our world, and was one of our greatest leaders." After another moment's pause, the youth led them on ahead. Nehantite art seemed at first dominated by stone sculpture, many of the older pieces being nudes, but if one looked closely, there was a shift to the more decent beginning about the time of Ramastan's reign. Various heroes and military figures were represented, with little emphasis on less-warlike cultural figures. Older subjects were also uncommon, most of the sculpture being dominated by younger males in their prime, often bearing sword, spear or bow.

But all was not sculpture, as the wing headed on into magnificent oil paintings, where the themes broadened slightly, but were still dominated by cultural heroes. The hall of arms was one of Asaetar's favorites, where weaponry and armor dating back to the very dawn of their civilization could be seen on display. The sword seemed to hold a special place in Nehantite culture, as there were literally thousands of them on display, far out-numbering all the various pieces of armor and other weapons put together. In a recent move to re-capture a younger audience, the museum had selected a few examples of certain weapons that could be handled, and Ace tried his paw with a scimitar nearly a thousand years old, finding its balance and action still flawless.

Pottery and ceramics, frescoes, tapestries and mountains of books and scrolls also filled the Royal Museum, and there was far too much to look at in only one day. Ace debated about showing off-worlders the Hall of Heaven and Hell, but in the end decided to. A far cry from the polish and intricately cleaned relics that lined the rest of the museum, the H of H&H seemed far more personal, and almost disturbing. In a ring of velvet ropes inside the doorway stood a massive, ugly and furless creature bordering on nine feet in height, and wearing naught but the actual hide of a dead Nenahtite about itself. Its skin was a greenish-gray, and even in preserved death it still held a dark lustre. Stained and cracked tusks emerged fromt eh thick lower lips, curling up toward eyes of pure red glass, and in its thick, gnarled hands it held a wicked polearm, held out agressively against the thing it faced. Amazingly, however, the second form on the stand was even more incredible. It was a male Nehantite, brown-furred with a light face and chest, an ornate kilt studded with leather and bonze chips about his waist and a flat-edged sword gripped tightly in his paw. The body had been excellently preserved, and his coat still held its lively lustre, but what set him apart from other males was the pair of wings, patterend like a great hawk's, emerging from his back, sweeping away from his body from natural muscle that hinted the wings were no fakes, but genuine.

Along the walls were various relics and skeletons of other angels and demons, as well as their weaponry and paintings and frescoes detailing their accounts. Nobeast could explain them scientifically now, but the written history was so detailed that almost all Nehantites accepted the existance of both beings as mortals to be fact. They lingered shortly in the hall before Ace pointed out the intricate mosaics that ran through every floor of the great museum, and told stories of days long past. Looking up to his charges, Ace smiled lightly and said, "Well, there's the fast tour. Anything you'd like to look at again, or have questions on?"

[Dasquian Belargic]

It was fascinating to think that a whole culture, its roots and all, could be contained within four walls, but whilst moving through the museum Dasquian found his mental picture of the Nethantites and their world becoming clearer and clearer in his mind. As his eyes followed the sprawling fresco beneath his feet, from one wall to another, his mind was drawn back to the winged creature that Ace had only moments ago shown them. He wondered to himself what could have caused that particular sub section of the species to dwindle, and why evolution might have chosen to rob them of the ability of flight. It was all quite fascinating.

“I’d like to know more about Ramastan the Great.”