Have you been half asleep?
And have you heard voices?
I've heard them calling my name
Is this the sweet sound
That called the young sailors?
The voice might be one in the same

I've heard it too many times to ignore it
It's something that I'm supposed to be




Outside the light frigate Aranar, space slid by in colorful swirls while her inhabitants slept. While most of them slept, anyway. The bridge was manned by Jeng, overseeing second shift duties, and his fellow Mando'ade who were keeping the night oil burning for the rest of the crew. The crew meaning everyone who was on board - most were Mandalorians from Onderon, though there were a few newer faces among them. Lyydea Amarra was one of those faces, and she was among those who were sleeping.

Lilaena De'Ville walked the main passageway in the living quarters. There were just a handful of matching cabins, one bunk room, and one of the cargo areas had been retrofitted into another dorm-like room. Since they had met back up with Bretak and the Haran, the crush of having nearly eighty beings on board one ship (capital or no, it was still on the small side) had been eased. Still, five thousand people spread over seven ships of various sizes was not a comfortable fit. A more permanent solution was being sought.

Returning to Onderon was not an option. A'na had made sure of that - burning bridges behind Lilaena had nearly been an art form with the woman when she had been alive, let alone a vengeful spirit. The only way forward was...forward. And part of that momentum had gathered up some of the flotsam of the galaxy, those who were forgotten, or misused. Rescuing Force users from the clutches of their abusers was something Lilaena felt very strongly about. Lyydea was grateful for her freedom, but she didn't seem to know what to do with it, and at times Lilaena wasn't sure the girl even knew what 'freedom' meant.

Her potential in the Force was reason enough not to simply drop her off on a neutral planet, but her naivete, coupled with nearly manic mood swings, made her as changeable as the wind. She was as dangerous to herself as she was to those around her. No, Lyydea needed more help than simply being rescued from a slavers market. She needed direction. She needed not to be controlled, but to learn how to control herself.

It was nearly breakfast time, and soon they would be coming out of hyperspace in the Dantooine system. Lilaena rapped lightly on Lyydea's door with her knuckles.