Something to Believe

[Leath Jens]

Leath arrived on Ossus by way of a Gossam gunship. At least, that's what the captain of the ship called it. He didn't see a gun emplacement on the thing that worked, and the hallways were crammed full of families. He didn't talk to them - even if he wanted to, he didn't speak Gossam anyway. He simply parked his rucksack on a bare patch of deck plating, propped against it, and made the best of the long voyage. The Jedi were on Ossus, he'd heard it everywhere like some hopeful whisper. It was a sign of the old days coming back. A sign that maybe all of the darkness would come to an end. Everyone needed something to believe. Even if Leath didn't believe any of that, he wanted to find that something.

He never felt the ship land. The ship captain came by to brusquely nudge him in the shoulder as he slept on his ruck. The language barrier was crossed by the Captain jerking his thumb at the open hatch. All of the other Gossam had disembarked, leaving the sole human passenger to sleep. Leath slowly rose to his feet, nodding as he took his luggage, stumbling out of the Gossam ship into the warm sun, and the sights of the Jedi camp. Watching what had to be padawans playing under a tree, the Chandrilan pulled a crumpled pack of stims from his coat pocket, and lit one. Almost in the same motion, he patted his back pocket in search of a familiar bottle that wasn't there anymore.

First thing's first. Drink. Leath wandered on, looking for the closest thing to a commissary that he could find. Hopefully the Jedi weren't teetotalers. The old familiar headache was coming back.

[Kyle Krogen]

The hill stretched out before him, dotted with trees and rocks, the antenna array at the peak visible above the treetops. Not impossible, but difficult terrain for sure. Especially at a run. The tree limbs were dodged or brushed aside with an outstretched forearm as the blonde man ran up the hill, his shoes throwing up dirt and pebbles in his wake as he maneuver up the hill. Not a straight run to the top, but one that took him to the hardest of the obstacles so that they could be overcome. The larger boulders were leaped over, using smaller rocks as stepping stones to jump from. With the force as his aid he easily overcame whatever got in his way. It reminded him of Coruscant, of running through the tight spaces, weaving through people, and jumping all around to get away from whoever was chasing them that day. Gangs, security, other urchins.

He was out of shape, and his breath was already labored, but he pushed on. Years in captivity had ruined his physique, and moping around the Enclave afterwards had not helped at all either. Finally he decided to do something more productive and had begun daily runs up the hills. It had been brutal at first, just how short his stamina had become, but it was getting better. It felt good to move freely through the trees, to leave the ground behind and sail through the air. There was no freedom like the wind in your hair, the ripple of your clothing, and the slow fall back to ground.

Exploding from the trees he finally stopped, his boots sliding along the ground until his momentum finally died. Reaching out he touched the warm metal of the antenna array, and basked in the sunlight, letting it warm his sweaty face. He could stay up here forever, with his eyes closed, the wind cooling him and the sun energizing his body. He couldn't, though, and eventually he had to open his eyes. Down below he could see the prefabricated buildings of Sanctuary, the Cizerack base to one side and the Alliance in the distance. A whole nest of people that he felt completely disconnected with. Up here he could be alone. Not many ventured up with far. After years of being locked in a cell it was solitude he enjoyed most. People were hard. You had to relate to them in order to cooperate, and he could not. They had never known the cruelty he endured. Their innocence was off putting.

The run back down the hill was much more exciting. With gravity as his ally he was able to move faster. It meant less time to dodge trees and overcome rocks. It was thrilling. The branches scratched at his bare arms, at the tank top and pants, as he zipped past them. The foilage stopped and the river opened up before him. He didn't slow, but his path did alter just a little, taking him toward a point where the river narrow a bit more than the rest. His feet hit the edge, right before the drop into the icy water, and he threw himself across the distance, his legs tucking up against his chest as he soared, arms held out like wings. The cool of the river, and the spray of water was a refreshing moment before he hit the other side, rolled, and came up running.

His run slowed down to a job as he neared the settlements, pausing at the edge of Sanctuary where he had left a towel at the start of his run. Picking up the simple cloth he wiped down his pale skin and continued walking. When he finally lowered the cloth from his face he noticed an unfamiliar man standing out looking lost. Kyle remembered that feeling when he first set boots on Ossus. That feeling like you do not belong among the smiles and warmth of the other Jedi. It was still hard. He didn't think of himself as the welcoming type, but no one else appeared to have noticed the lost man standing alone in the middle of Sanctuary.

"Welcome to Ossus. I'm Kyle. Can I help you find anything?"

[Leath Jens]

The Chandrilan drifter paused, flicking away a measure of ash from his stim as he exhaled, turning to look at the man coming to meet him. Looked like he'd been out for a run. In a place like this, it almost begged to get out amongst the wild.

"Leath Jens."

He extended a hand, giving a terse military pump to his handshake. Probably not best to press the guy on where to find a bit of liquor. He had other needs to meet.

"Looking for a bit of work, bru."

[Kyle Krogen]

They said a strong handshake spoke volumes about a man, in some cultures. Other cultures frowned upon it, feeling that it was overly assertive or intimidating to shake a hand so strongly. Kyle had met all kinds and decided not to judge. He just returned a handshake of the same volume as he received. Letting go of the man's hand he dabbed his neck with the towel before hanging it off his shoulder. "You'll find the Alliance offices over that way. I'm sure they could always do with another hand. If you devalue your life you could always try the Cizerack base upriver, but they are a very interesting bunch. Seem a little xenophobic to me. Not the best idea. If you don't mind me asking, why Ossus? There's a cantina over that way if you're looking for a meal."

[Leath Jens]

"Heard there was Jedi here." was Leath's simple reply to Why Ossus? It wasn't the most complete answer and he knew it. He still wasn't sure if he'd find any help, even from them.

Leath turned to where Kyle had pointed out the Alliance offices, shifting his feet a bit uncertainly. He'd done his tours. If he had to, he'd go that route, but he was tired of playing soldier. The cantina got him thinking. He could eat, sure. But maybe they needed a hand there?

"Thanks, bru."

He gave an appreciative nod, extinguished his stim under a bootheel, and headed to the Cantina.