NationStates Jolt Archive

Aboard the Rancor's Wrath, a moderately sized Hammerhead-class capital ship, all was calm. Having been in hyperspace for almost six solid days the crew were beginning to settle into a routine which, although keeping their minds and bodies occupied, was growing repetitive and boring. Even the normally beautiful sight of hyperspace passing them by as they whipped along at incredible speed was beginning to seem dull and uninteresting. Tropicopan ships rarely ventured so far from home, and as such it was something of an original experience for the wholly unprepared crew, who had never had to endure such a lengthy interstellar trip before.

Many found ways to pass the time. Continual training, be it mental of physical, helped many of the crew distract themselves from the mundaneness of their journey - a good fifteen percent of the crew could be found in the ship's gym at any particular time, whilst another large percentage spent their off-duty hours in front of terminals, reading technical manuals and discovering new skills. But most of the crew could not abide such pastimes in their only periods of freedom, and, having watched all of their holovids already, were starting to become restless and agitated. Security had already had to break up a couple of fights that had been started over purely petty reasons, and despite heavy disciplinary action from the displeased captain, the situation did not promise to improve as their journey lingered on.

In the mess hall, crew members ate in silence, having covered every conversation they could think of earlier in their journeys. Left with military rations, the meals were quite uninspiring and did not lend themselves to improving the moods of the crew, but they had to eat. The only person who did not appear to be depressed and hunched over her meagre dish sat alone, at a table in a distant corner. Unlike the rest of the uniformed men, who appeared to be trying to finish their plates off as quickly as they could, this woman wore rustic brown robes with white vestments beneath it, and she took careful, measured bites from her tasteless meal as though every one could be her last. Her posture was good, with a straight back and a high head, though she paid little heed to the rest of the crew members.

Until one of the latest arrivals to the large, bland room sat down opposite her, slamming his tray down on the basic table as though trying to make her jump. The robed figure simply looked up calmly, almost as though expecting that the sudden act to occur.

"Damn," the crewman said. "It really is impossible to startle your kind, huh?"

The robed figure cocked her head to one side slightly in curiosity. "Why would you wish to startle me?" she asked, in a serene and almost comforting voice.

"I dunno," the crewman shrugged. "To see if I could. I'm Bale, Crispin Bale. You're that Jedi Master, aren't ya?"

"I am a Jedi, yes," she nodded slowly. "May I be of some assistance, Corporal?"

"Nah, I just figured you was lookin' lonely," Bale said in a gruff voice, before taking a large bite from his crunchy ration bar.

"Thank you for your concern, but I prefer to be alone," she said.

"That's great," Bale nodded. He did not appear to have any intention of acquiescing to her subtle hint, however, and took another bite from his ration bar. "So what do you need to do to become a Jedi Master, anyway?"

"One requires copious amounts of patience," the Jedi said tellingly, glancing down at the crumbs that now littered the table around the soldier.

"That it? Sounds like summit that anyone could do," Bale snorted, blowing crumbs everywhere.

"Well, a great deal of knowledge, wisdom, compassion, and understanding of the Force are also required," she said with a displeased glance at the mess he was making. "One cannot simply walk into the Temple and become a Master simply by being patient, of course."

"Course not," Bale nodded. "So, how come you ain't on the Council?"

"I think that you put too much stock in rank and hierarchy," she said dismissively. "We must all serve our purpose in different manners."

"Hah!" Bale laughed. "Sounds like someone's bitter!"

"Jedi do not get 'bitter'," she snapped. "The Council and I merely... disagree on certain philosophies. Why are you asking me these questions?"

"Oh, just curious, y'know," Bale shrugged. "I did wanna ask, though - is it really true that Jedi can't get married?"

"Ugh," she groaned and rose to her feet. "It is not a rule - it is a preference. Now, please excuse me."

"Sheesh, I was just asking..." Bale grumbled as she walked away. He was not afforded much chance to stew in his failure however. He found himself lifted off his chair, followed by his tray, and thrown right up against the nearby wall like a ragdoll. At first he thought that the Jedi had taken more offence at this advances than he had first believed, and taken her revenge with the Force - but before his vision started to blur he noticed many other crewmen had been thrown violently towards the wall - the Jedi included.

"Ah, Sithspit..." he moaned, as he saw his chair follow him towards the wall. As it cracked against his head he felt a sharp, agonising pain, before his vision turned black.

***

"I still don't like it Lieutenant," Captain Vizzal'una said, flicking one of her green, mottled lekku over her shoulder. "Run the diagnostic again. The shield generator shouldn't be doing that."

"Yes, Captain," the Lieutenant nodded. The officer began to tap some controls, as Vizzal'una moved towards the front of the bridge, standing before the main helm and looking out of the main window and into the great hyperspace void they now raced through. While many of the crew had grown tired of the sight, Vizzal'una could not - she found it mesmerising and calming, and she often found that once she had looked into the tunnel of light they travelled through, she could not look away. It helped her focus, almost like meditation.

She was quite disappointed when suddenly, without warning, the blue hyperspace tunnel dissolved rapidly around them and they were thrust into normal space. The force of the sudden deceleration overwhelmed their inertial dampeners and she was thrown forwards, cracking her head against the thick window in front of her and slumping down in a heap. Everything suddenly became hazy, and the bridge seemed to spin around her. She could hear alarm klaxons, and muffled shouting, but they sounded so distant that she could not make out what they were saying. The experience was actually quite pleasant, until she began to feel nauseous and felt like throwing up. Something was trickling down her forehead, but she wasn't sure what it was until she felt herself lifted up to her feet.

"...tain, are you alright? Captain?!" one of her lieutenants shouted over the noise. Her hearing was beginning to return to normal, despite a constant buzzing sound, though her sight was still a little fuzzy. "Crewman, take the Captain down to the medical bay immediately!"

"Yes, Lieutenant!"

"I'm... I'm fine," Vizzal'una held out her hand and steadied herself on the console behind her, and turned around to face the window again. She saw a splatter of her blood against the window, and cautiously reached up to touch her forehead only to find that it was sticky and wet. She looked at her fingers and saw more of her blood there, in alarming quantities.

"Captain are you sure you are alright?" the Lieutenant asked as the ship shook violently again.

"I am fine, what is going on?" she snapped.

"We have been forced out of hyperspace by an interdiction field," the Lieutenant said, steadying himself against a pylon nearby. "Several small vessels opened fire on us the moment we were pulled from hyperspace. We cannot raise our shields, and the first few blasts took out our weapons and hyperdrive. We have major hull damage in all sections."

The ship, as though listening to him, began to rumble ominously as it was beginning to break up. Multiple alarms were sounding all around them, and the thunderous sounds of impacting weapons fire continued to send violent jolts throughout its significant frame. The Rancor's Wrath did not have long to live.

"Who are they? How did they know where to find us?" the Captain shouted.

"I believe them to be pirates and mercenaries," the Lieutenant said. "As to how they knew where to find us, I do not know!"

Vizzal'una struggled to make her way across the rattling bridge and stooped over the engineer's console, trying to keep her lekku from dangling over it and causing problems. "Chief! Can you get either our shields, weapons or hyperdrive back online?" she yelled.

""Not in time ma'am!" the engineer called back. "They've taken too much damage!"

"Right then! Lieutenant - sound the evacuation order! Get everybody off this ship before it explodes!"

"Ma'am?!"

"Just do i..."

Vizzal'una forgot what she was going to say after that, for she found herself flying through the air at tremendous speed, clutching at her freezing chest as she watched the Rancor's Wrath spiralling away into the distance, a huge hole in its bow - where the bridge used to be.

***

Bale was in hell. Or at least, its living equivalent. As his brain kick-started itself into consciousness he woke up into a world of hurt, with a headache so bad it made his last hangover seem as bad as a minor gikza bite. He opened his eyes but they stung badly as blood dripped into them from a large gash on his head. Struggling to keep them open against the pain, he looked around him. Everything had a red hue to it thanks to the blood, and possibly the red alert lights that were flashing in place of the main lighting. He found himself buried beneath a pile of chairs, tables, plates and bodies. He noticed that none of his crewmates appeared to be moving, and much to his distress, a couple had even been impaled by the legs of the furniture that had been thrown towards the wall.

Panicked, he began to struggle beneath the pile that had trapped him, in spite of the pain that ran through his body. When a particularly loud bang sounded and shook the ship violently, knocking out all of the lighting and plunging him into darkness, he struggled even more.

His panic was allayed somewhat however, when he heard a strange humming sound approach. A soft green light bathed the door to the mess hall as a figure walked in. It was the Jedi, and she approached Bale's pile immediately.

"Where did you go?!" Bale shouted.

"I was looking for survivors," she said. "I felt much death through the Force; you are the only other presence I can sense on this ship."

"Son of a bantha... they're all dead? Get me out of here!" he shouted, and began to struggle again.

"Be still, Corporal," she said calmly, and held out her hand. With a simple gesture, much of the debris covering him was lifted away and tossed to one side, allowing him to push away the remaining couple of chairs and get to his feet with a wince.

"Wow, wish I could do that..."

"We need to leave this ship," the Jedi said.

"Tell me about it..." Bale nodded. "OK, follow me, the escape pods are this way!"

***

The Rancor's Wrath was badly damaged, with impact craters everywhere. The small ships that swarmed her did not appear to be satisfied, however, and continued to pound her repeatedly. When explosions began to errupt from within, her attackers immediately rejoined formation and jumped into hyperspace to avoid the blast. Just as they left, a lone escape pod blasted from one of the port hatches, just in time to avoid the explosion that tore the ship apart. Unfortunately, the pod was knocked off course by the blast, and plummeted down into the atmosphere of a nearby uncharted planet.

Bale could hear... something. In the distance, muffled like it was coming from behind a wall. It was some kind of regular, dull beating sound, following a set rhythm and timing and never deviating from it. As it grew in volume and intensity each beat stimulated pain in his head, as the makings of a glorious headache came into focus as well. It was only after several minutes of listening to the sound in pained fascination that he realised it was his own heartbeat, thumping away in his chest like it had always done, and he found himself wondering why it was so loud. Was his chest torn asunder, exposing his innards? Odd, because he didn't feel a draft...

"Wake up," a soft voice said to him. Where had it come from? Who did it belong to? It sounded heavenly...

Perhaps it was an angel, calling him to the Netherworld of the Force! But... that would mean that he was dead, or dying. He wasn't supposed to die yet! He was supposed to make Captain, and die in glorious combat at the helm of his own ship, defending Tropicopa from destruction and going down in history...

"Wake up, Corporal!" the voice called again. It wasn't so divine this time, and sounded authoritarian, and positively irritated. As more and more of his senses came back to life he began to feel a sharp stinging pain across both of his cheeks, and with a groan, he attempted to open his eyes.

Everything was hazy and dark, but he could just make out the silhouette of a woman standing over him. It was like a dream come true - perhaps the whole attack on the ship thing was all in his head, and he'd actually gotten drunk and scored with a chick. For some reason, though, she repeatedly slapped each of his cheeks in turn, jerking his head from side to side and making his headache worse.

"What... what are you doing?" he said, his voice raspy and his throat like sandpaper. He'd had hangovers before, and this didn't feel like the usual ones.

"I need you to wake up, Corporal Bale," the woman said.

"Why are you slapping me?!"

"It was the only way I could wake you!" she explained.

As his vision cleared, the darkness dissipated somewhat and gave way to light, and he was able to focus on the figure in front of him. It was that Jedi Master woman from the ship, and he groaned and put his hands on his head when he realised what had really happened.

He lay, bent over uncomfortably, in the only escape pod that had blasted away from the Rancor's Wrath before it succumbed to its damage. What had happened after that was lost to his memory, but he knew that he wasn't going to like whatever situation they had found themselves in. Outside the escape pod he could hear strange sounds, like they were in the middle of a jungle filled with wild animals. Which only made his mood worse.

"Oh, it's YOU," he moaned, wincing as he sat upright against the rear wall of the small pod. "What happened?"

"Our ship was destroyed," the Jedi told him. "The blast from that knocked this escape pod into the atmosphere of a nearby planet. Between the turbulence of the uncontrolled atmospheric entry, and the somewhat... unpleasant crash landing, you were injured quite badly and knocked unconscious."

"Ugh..." he moaned. For some reason the Jedi was placing her delicate hand flat against his chest and closing her eyes, though he didn't make any effort to stop her - it seemed to lessen the pain, for whatever reason. "How long have I been out?"

"Almost three days," she said, in a matter-of-fact way without even opening her eyes. "I believe I have stabilised your condition through the Force, but I would advise against strenuous movement until having been treated at a medical facility."

"Well, thanks, I guess," he said reluctantly. They had not exactly got off to the best of starts, and he was reluctant to acknowledge her assistance, but he had to admit that he'd probably be dead by now if not for her.

"I would recommend several days in a bacta tank," she said with a sigh. "However like many things that we need at present, we do not have such a thing here."

"Where is here, anyway?" Bale asked.

"I am not certain," the Jedi shook her head. "It is not a charted planet. And there is so much life here, it is... difficult to sense any semblance of civilisation. Presumably, we are somewhere along the hyperspace route between Tropicopa and the trading outpost. If so, it is fairly remote."

"Great," Bale sighed. "Well, least someone'll pick up our distress signal and pick us up soon."

"Yes..." she said, hesitantly. "About that. It appears that our radio transceiver was damaged in the crash. I was hoping that your role aboard the Rancor's Wrath entailed some manner of engineering duties, for I am unable to repair the damage myself."

"What?!" he exclaimed. "No, I was a soldier. Grunt! I can't fix sithspit. You're a Jedi, why can't you fix it?!"

"The ability to repair equipment is a skill, not a power," she shook her head. "My skills lie elsewhere."

"Well that's just great," Bale said. With a wince and a groan, he managed to pull himself to his feet, and clamber clumsily out of the small hatchway and into the light. He squinted as the sun overwhelmed his eyes for a second, until he became used to the new light level. Looking around, all he could see were trees and bushes, completely surrounding the clearing that had been formed by their crashed escape pod. It appeared that they had touched down in the midst of a sub-tropical jungle, dense with foliage and presumably laden with wildlife - possibly dangerous.

"Sit down before you harm yourself further," the Jedi warned him calmly.

"Why? We're going to die out here anyway!" he yelled. "With all your damned Jedi wisdom, you managed to put us down in the middle of a jungle! Force knows if there's anybody on this planet, but we sure won't find them now will we?!"

"I hardly had control of..."

"And what in the Force are we going to do for shelter?!" he continued. "Live together in a tiny escape pod for the rest of our short lives? I don't think so! It was bad enough being on a ship with you let alone a bloody tin can!"

"You really need to calm..."

"I AM calm!" he shouted. "I'm pretty frelling calm for somebody who's just been marooned on a jungle planet with a Jedi who can't even repair a radio! Is this the Force's idea of a big cosmic joke?! Just when I think my life can't possibly get any bloody worse - the Force goes and finds a bloody way, doesn't it?!"

"Be quiet!"

"I'll be quiet when I'm dead!" he yelled, his face turning red.

"That will be sooner than you think if you don't be..."

"Great, so now the Jedi is threatening me!" Bale yelled. "Yet again, the Force goes and surprises us all by finding another way of screwing me over! Of all the places, in all the galaxies, why do I have to be stranded here with a homicidal Jedi?!"

Frustration was the first emotion he had seen the woman display since he woke up, and she seemed about to take it out on him. She leapt from within the pod, somersaulting in mid-air before landing just a few feet from him. Nervous, he stepped back, but she held out her hand and his feet were pulled from under him, knocking him onto his back. Winded, and already injured, he took the blow quite hard and struggled to move. In the meantime, she stood over him and held out her hand again. When he saw several dozen arrows suddenly zoom over his head, however, he realised what she was doing.

The arrows were stopped in mid-air, and rained down on him harmlessly - even if it was annoying. Elegantly, the woman tossed her robes to one side and the gleaming hilt of her lightsaber was pulled by an invisible force from her belt and into her hand, activating with its green blade in a twirling motion. Once more she held out her hand, and the trees around them rustled and their trunks snapped. As they toppled over, Bale was astonished to see dozens of people scurrying out into the clearing to avoid being crushed. They appeared to be humans, tanned quite deeply, wearing very little aside from animal skin loincloths and carrying only primitive blades, bows, and quivers slung over their shoulders.

They all froze when they saw the Jedi, unsure of what to think of her. The only sound to be heard was the throbbing hum of the energy blade, as she stood over Bale, ready to defend against an attack from these primitives. Bale knew that they were no match for a Jedi, or even a single plastoid-armoured soldier for that matter, but he wondered if they knew that. It seemed as though they were trying to decide whether to flee or to attack, and a couple of them had arrows nocked into their bows ready to fire.

"We mean you no harm," the Jedi said at last, in that eerily calming voice of hers.

Unexpectedly, a few moments later all of the attackers dropped their weapons and dropped to their knees in unison, lifting their heads up and down as though worshipping her. The Jedi appeared to be just as surprised as Bale was, for she lowered her glowing lightsaber a little and looked around with a bemused expression on her face.

"It could be a trick," Bale whispered up at her, still lying on his back. "Y'know, lull you into a false sense of security... then eat us!"

She glanced down at him and shrugged, and then looked up again. Her lightsaber hissed off, and she placed it back onto her belt.

"Please, stand up," she said to the natives at last. "There is no need for that."

One of their attackers stopped bobbing up and down for a moment and looked up, though avoiding making eye contact. "But you wield the power of the gods, and carry their tool!" the primitive said. Bale was somewhat curious to know how he could speak their language, but at the same time he didn't really care - they had bigger problems on their plate.

"I am not a god," the Jedi told him soothingly. "My 'power' is that of the Force, and my tool is just technology."

"Yes, the Force, this is what the gods call it!" the native said, and began bobbing up and down. The Jedi sighed a little, shaking her head.

"Maybe you should play along," Bale suggested quietly. "It might be dangerous to convince them that you're mortal. Or they might try and test it! Plus we could do with a place to stay, and food to eat, while we figure out what to do."

She looked down at him again and squinted, considering what he had said. Although she appeared uncomfortable with the idea of deceiving these natives, at the same time she obviously could see no way of convincing them that she was not a god. Plus, his logic was flawless - they needed lodgings, and in their haste to depart they had not packed any rations into the confined space of the escape pod.

"Very well," she sighed. "You there. Please take us to your settlement, so that I may speak with your leaders."

"Of course, my Lady!" the apparent leader of their attackers said. He briefly bobbed up and down a little faster, as though trying to squeeze in some last-minute worship, and then rose to his feet. "Come, this way!"

The natives all jumped up to their feet and hurriedly followed their leader as he dove back into the underbrush of the woods, gesturing to their new 'goddess' to follow them. The Jedi looked down at Bale for a moment, and he shrugged in response. She reached down and took his hand, helping him back to his feet.

"My apologies, for knocking you down," she said. "It was necessary..."

"I know, I know, I was being a jerk," he said, dusting himself down. "Can you blame me? Anyway, thanks. That's twice I owe you now. What's your name, anyway?"

"Daling Tenternia," she said. she pulled her robe up from the ground and replaced it around her shoulders again. "Come, we should follow our... erm, followers. Stay behind me."

With that, she cautiously walked into the jungle, her lightsaber sparking to life again so that she might cut a path through the dense foliage. Bale followed closely behind, limping a little and clutching his sides.

The walk through the jungle was quite a long jaunt, and the underbrush didn't help matters. Even Master Tenternia's well-toned arms were beginning to tire from constantly swinging her lightsaber through the shrubs to clear a path for them. Several days of walking, stopping only for a few hours sleep and the occasional meal, had left herself and Bale fatigued, and though Tenternia could call upon the Force to bring her strength, the dreadfully injured Bale had no such luxury. Her attempts to heal him through the Force had been temporary measures, mere sticking plasters to stabilise his condition until they could be rescued and have him dumped into a bacta tank. For the meantime, she had taken to using the Force to help him support his weight as he walked, which required a level of concentration that was difficult to maintain as she was forced to cut through the plants.

To make matters worse, the native wildlife of this world seemed to be predominantly aggressive, bloodthirsty even, with various varieties of fauna unleashing attacks upon them at various points along their journey. Most of the attacks seemed to come from smaller reptiles and mammals who should probably have known better than to attack a large group of bipeds, though a few came from much larger foes, closer in size to rancors. While the combined strength of a Jedi and numerous primitively-armed tribesmen was sufficient to drive the attacks back into the forest, their sustained frequency was beginning to wear them all down even more than the prolonged trek they faced.

Throughout it all, given the length of their journey, Tenternia couldn't help but wonder how these simple folks had managed to know where their escape pod had crashed. It was even more curious how they managed to get there so quickly afterwards considering the distance they were having to travel now. Unless they had some kind of outpost much closer to the landing site, which was doubtful with their level of sophistication, she could only assume that they were already on their way to the site when they crashed. Coincidence, precognition, or something else? Her vision was clouded on this planet; though she sensed some sort of disturbance she was unable to ascertain what it was, exactly.

Eventually they emerged from the denser jungle and found themselves walking down a more well-trodden path, allowing Tenternia to put away her lightsaber at long last. The shrubbery had been cleared, the soil compressed by repeated footsteps, and the tree branches were all cut back purposefully - they must be close to wherever they were being taken. As a gentle breeze wafted towards them they could smell the scent of smoke, and cooking meat, a refreshing and apetising smell when all they had eaten for the last few days had been various tasteless plants the tribesmen had picked up on the way.

After what seemed like an eternity of walking, finally the forest broke open completely and they found themselves in a large clearing, shrubs and underbrush giving way to sand and dirt, the canopy that had sheltered them for so long being replaced by a deep blue sky punctuated with a few wisps of fluffy white cloud. Before them was a primitive village, consisting of dozens of large wooden buildings raised from the ground by stilts and roofed with straw thatches, surrounded by a series of mud houses and yurts which were presumably the houses of 'lesser' residents. As they walked through the village, the smell of smoke and cooking was supplemented with the smell of body odour, as various residents, including women and children, slowly came out of their muddy houses to gawk at the new arrivals. They kept their distance, but Tenternia couldn't help but wish they would have kept a greater distance, as her olfactory senses couldn't stand much more.

Passing through the outer boundaries of the village they began to walk amongst the larger wooden buildings, which appeared to serve more formal purposes than the simple yurts and muck houses on the outskirts. A small market, which had suddenly gone silent as they walked by, had been set up along a narrow, muddy street, next to what appeared to be a tavern. As they moved closer and closer to the centre of the village the buildings became even more elaborate, including several larger houses for what must have been more affluent members of their society, some manner of court house, and a village hall. Finally they had reached the centre of the village, the only place which had been paved - or at least, cobbled with uneven stones - and was surrounded by the court, the village hall and several other important-looking buildings.

Seemingly the entire village was centred around a momument, which stood proudly in the middle of the square; a large, obsidian obelisk which rose at least twenty feet into the air and was about five feet wide at its base. Bale seemed confused when Tenternia stopped walking as she saw the obelisk, her eyes widening as she gazed up at the structure. It was adorned in its entirety with expertly-carved glyphs, which were cut deeply into the black stone and filled in with gold to give a striking contrast. Roughly three feet up from the ground, a large alcove had been cut into the monument, within which a small, pyramid-shaped object had been placed respectfully. The little pyramid was also covered in ancient glyphs and symbols, though these were not gold and could barely be seen from a distance.

"What's the matter with you?" Bale asked in a harsh whisper. He too had stopped, as she had lost her concentration and was no longer aiding his movement.

"It's... that..." she said slowly, nodding at the obelisk and the statue it hosted. The tribesmen who had escorted them had now surrounded the obelisk and dropped to their knees, apparently worshipping the monument.

"What about it? It's just some stupid statue," Bale scoffed. "Come on - they might feed us some proper food if you wave your lightsaber around some more!"

Tenternia knew what she was looking at. Before she could warn Bale of its significance however, a group of villagers emerged from the raised village hall, making their way down the wooden steps towards them. Obviously more important than the group of men who had escorted them, these new villagers wore colourful fabrics reminiscent of togas, and were plastered in primitive gold jewellery and rough-cut gems. The overweight man in the middle wore the most ostentatious amount of decorations, and was probably the leader of the village. Initially confused, the leader frowned at Tenternia and Bale until one of their escorts ran over to him and whispered into this ear. The leader's eyes widened, and he too dropped to his knees and averted his eyes away from her.

"My Lady," he said in a deep, rasping voice. "I am Umpek Nor, King of Adalor. Our village is at your service - anything we can provide is yours."

Tenternia stood in silence for a few moments, looking around at the villagers who were beginning to assemble in the square and similarly drop to their knees.

"I'll have a bantha burger," Bale exclaimed simply, as he rested his weight against a wooden fence with a wince. "Damn, any meat will do the trick."

At that, King Nor looked over his shoulder, without lifting himself up from his knees, and snapped his fingers at one of his servants. "Prepare the Lady's servant some food! Now!" His servant jumped to her feet and ran back inside, presumably to tell their cooks to prepare some food.

"Lady's servant...?" Bale exclaimed, dejected.

"Your Majesty, I am not a god," Tenternia protested. "Please, rise to your feet."

The King took the opportunity to look up at her with a confused frown across his brow. Several times he opened his mouth as though to speak, but no words came out for several moments until he found his tongue. "Is this a... is this a test of our faith, Lady?"

Tenternia sighed. "No, King Nor, it is not a test," she said. "I am not a god."

"But Lady, you use the weapons of the Gods!" the King protested. "You wield their supreme power! My men have seen this with their own eyes! You try to test our faith, and you shall see it is unbreakable, my Lady!"

"My 'power' is the Force, it surrounds all of us," Tenternia explained with remarkable patience. "My weapon is a lightsaber, it is a piece of Force-imbued technology. There is no divine power at work, I am merely a Jedi. Any who are strong in the Force can learn to embrace it, with time and patience. I am not a god - please, rise."

The mention of Jedi seemed to irk the King some, who continued to stare at her defiantly. His eyes narrowed and he seemed to go deep in thought for a few moments, never taking his eyes off her. Eventually he appeared to acquiesce, and slowly struggled back to his feet, dusting off his elegant clothing.

"I shall do as you ask, Lady," the King said. Tenternia noticed that his voice seemed notably less submissive than it had been previously, assuming that he had simply accepted her explanation. "I must... attend to some business. In the meantime, please partake in all that we have to offer."

With that, the King and his aides issued a short, respectful nod, before turning around and returning to the hall. Immediately after they disappeared, a horde of servants emerged, some carrying out tables and chairs, the rest carrying numerous pottery plates of meat and vegetables. As the tables were placed in the courtyard, near the obelisk, Bale immediately summoned the strength to support his own weight again and made his way towards the well-prepared dishes.

"I don't know what those are but I'm going to eat them anyway," the injured Corporal exclaimed. "Why in the Force are you trying to get this sweet deal of ours busted?"

"It is wrong to prey on the superstitions of others," Tenternia said thoughtfully, her gaze returning to the obelisk and the artefact within it. Despite the haze that had been cast across the Force on this world, she could still sense the intense darkness that rippled from the pyramid in the alcove; she had difficulty withstanding its power. "And I am concerned that these people appear to be worshipping a Sith holocron..."

Bale didn't hear her hushed voice. He was already cramming chunks of roasted meat into his mouth.

OOC: Tag for interest.