Sejah Haversh
May 2nd, 2002, 05:56:35 PM
“Excuse me,” A timid voice said in attempt to get a fat being to move out of his way so that he could pass through a doorway. It failed, so he repeated, “Excuse me, sir, I would like to get through, please.”
The fat blue mass of ugly flesh scowled at the furry pipsqueak who asked, and finally moved a foot to the side just so that he wouldn’t have to hear him ask again.
“Thank you.” The furred man nodded, and squeezed past him through the doorway and out onto the street.
Sejah looked up at the massive towers around him, and the thousands of ships darting hither and thither along crowded traffic lanes above his head. The realization of to many others made him feel small and insignificant among them. He without a ship, a place to stay, and very little money. Crouching down, he tightened the strappings on his legs and ran a digit through the strap of his left sandal to make it fir better. It was a menial task, but one that reminded him that he really did exist amongst the hustle and bustle of the great city.
Rising to a stand again , Sejah Haversh lifted his makeshift pack of food, clothing and personal belongings and hung it over his shoulder, another long and thin object wrapped in burlap was carried in his left paw. Pulling a tourist’s map from his pocket, he unfolded it and scanned over it with his pink eyes, trying desperately to figure out where he was based on landmarks he attempted to remember from his shuttle flight through the air only moments ago. Eventually he figured out the correct general direction, and began to walk, not possessing enough for another cab and still have enough to rent a room somewhere cheap that night.
Sejah was a Nehantite, a mongoose like life form from a backwater planet known mainly for its petroleum and oil output, and art glass. Nehantish was a desert planet, populated by others like himself. Few outsiders chose to live there for the low quality of life, and Sejah had not had the best of luck himself. He was poor, and always had been. Making his money doing odd jobs, he also found work as a fencing instructor. That was what had finally brought him here; his skill with a blade.
Ever since he was young, he was thought to be a prodigy with a sword, always faster and more clever in his moves than his opponents. It was said he was reading their next moves some of the time, but he did not believe it. The Force was not something commonly found in a Nehantite, so it was written off as just natural skill. Until a Jedi witnessed one of his classes, and pulled him aside afterward to explain to him what truly might be causing his unnatural abilities.
Sejah was reluctant at first, to stand out for something other than abilities was to brand yourself a freak on his world. But through conversation, the passing Jedi convinced him to gather his money and book whatever passage he could to reach the Jedi council. What he hadn’t told him was that although he felt the force in Sejah, it was not exceptionally strong.
So the brown-furred mongoose booked a fourth-class flight with several connections, and eventually wound up where he currently was, lost on the streets of a big city filled with people too bust to help him find his way. Growing depressed, Sejah continued on, wondering if he would even be taken in at the Center, or if he would be deemed too old. He was twenty-five, and not growing any younger. Not thinking, he sidestepped and avoided a door swinging open that would have hit him otherwise. He passed it off as his training with movement in swordplay, and nothing more. If anyone was to be skeptical about his own powers, it was Sejah himself.
Finally, after three hours of walking, the brown mongoose found himself outside the building he was looking for. His left paw gripped the wrapped sword he carried in its wrapping, and his right felt through his bag for the old light saber he had managed to buy along the way. Swallowing the nervousness he felt building up inside himself, Sejah climbed the steps and passed through the door. An attendant at the front desk pointed him to the correct elevator, and he took it, all the while admiring the quality of the building around himself. Such craftsmanship was hard to find access to as a commoner on Nehantish. The bell chimed, and the doors slid open before him. Knowing there would be no turning back, Sejah stepped out and felt his sandal slip slightly on the polished floor. Quickly gaining a good footing, he continued on to the main desk before him and laid his right paw on the counter. Swallowing, he spoke, “Hello, my name is Sejah Haversh, I was told that I might be in tune with the Force a few weeks ago, and I was told to come here. I have no money to give you, but if what I have been told is true, I would like to apply to train as a Jedi.”
His speech left the person at the desk quiet for a moment, and then he added, “I am sorry if I came to the wrong desk, I was told this was the floor for new applicants. Please forgive me if I have erred.”
The fat blue mass of ugly flesh scowled at the furry pipsqueak who asked, and finally moved a foot to the side just so that he wouldn’t have to hear him ask again.
“Thank you.” The furred man nodded, and squeezed past him through the doorway and out onto the street.
Sejah looked up at the massive towers around him, and the thousands of ships darting hither and thither along crowded traffic lanes above his head. The realization of to many others made him feel small and insignificant among them. He without a ship, a place to stay, and very little money. Crouching down, he tightened the strappings on his legs and ran a digit through the strap of his left sandal to make it fir better. It was a menial task, but one that reminded him that he really did exist amongst the hustle and bustle of the great city.
Rising to a stand again , Sejah Haversh lifted his makeshift pack of food, clothing and personal belongings and hung it over his shoulder, another long and thin object wrapped in burlap was carried in his left paw. Pulling a tourist’s map from his pocket, he unfolded it and scanned over it with his pink eyes, trying desperately to figure out where he was based on landmarks he attempted to remember from his shuttle flight through the air only moments ago. Eventually he figured out the correct general direction, and began to walk, not possessing enough for another cab and still have enough to rent a room somewhere cheap that night.
Sejah was a Nehantite, a mongoose like life form from a backwater planet known mainly for its petroleum and oil output, and art glass. Nehantish was a desert planet, populated by others like himself. Few outsiders chose to live there for the low quality of life, and Sejah had not had the best of luck himself. He was poor, and always had been. Making his money doing odd jobs, he also found work as a fencing instructor. That was what had finally brought him here; his skill with a blade.
Ever since he was young, he was thought to be a prodigy with a sword, always faster and more clever in his moves than his opponents. It was said he was reading their next moves some of the time, but he did not believe it. The Force was not something commonly found in a Nehantite, so it was written off as just natural skill. Until a Jedi witnessed one of his classes, and pulled him aside afterward to explain to him what truly might be causing his unnatural abilities.
Sejah was reluctant at first, to stand out for something other than abilities was to brand yourself a freak on his world. But through conversation, the passing Jedi convinced him to gather his money and book whatever passage he could to reach the Jedi council. What he hadn’t told him was that although he felt the force in Sejah, it was not exceptionally strong.
So the brown-furred mongoose booked a fourth-class flight with several connections, and eventually wound up where he currently was, lost on the streets of a big city filled with people too bust to help him find his way. Growing depressed, Sejah continued on, wondering if he would even be taken in at the Center, or if he would be deemed too old. He was twenty-five, and not growing any younger. Not thinking, he sidestepped and avoided a door swinging open that would have hit him otherwise. He passed it off as his training with movement in swordplay, and nothing more. If anyone was to be skeptical about his own powers, it was Sejah himself.
Finally, after three hours of walking, the brown mongoose found himself outside the building he was looking for. His left paw gripped the wrapped sword he carried in its wrapping, and his right felt through his bag for the old light saber he had managed to buy along the way. Swallowing the nervousness he felt building up inside himself, Sejah climbed the steps and passed through the door. An attendant at the front desk pointed him to the correct elevator, and he took it, all the while admiring the quality of the building around himself. Such craftsmanship was hard to find access to as a commoner on Nehantish. The bell chimed, and the doors slid open before him. Knowing there would be no turning back, Sejah stepped out and felt his sandal slip slightly on the polished floor. Quickly gaining a good footing, he continued on to the main desk before him and laid his right paw on the counter. Swallowing, he spoke, “Hello, my name is Sejah Haversh, I was told that I might be in tune with the Force a few weeks ago, and I was told to come here. I have no money to give you, but if what I have been told is true, I would like to apply to train as a Jedi.”
His speech left the person at the desk quiet for a moment, and then he added, “I am sorry if I came to the wrong desk, I was told this was the floor for new applicants. Please forgive me if I have erred.”