Gathering Dead Ends [Dr. Jake, open]

[Mara]

[...from Departure]

"Thanks. You've been very helpful." She didn't even try to hide the sarcasm dripping from her voice as she moved away from a blue-skinned Twi'lek male whom she had been interrogating for the past five minutes. Nor did she care if she received a sneer in return for her snide comment. This latest target had been completely useless to her regarding any information that would be helpful for her and her quest. And unfortunately, this was how her day had been going so far: finding a lead, asking questions, and getting nowhere. Her patience was wearing thing; however, she wasn't about to give up and started in the direction of the next one on her list.

Looma Isana was back on her home planet, in her home city of Kala'uun, in fact, but she wasn't here for a family reunion. Far from it. She was actually looking for any evidence related to her sister's current whereabouts. When she had been a young child, her parents had sold the older girl into slavery. They supposedly had had no other choice and regretted the decision, despite the money it gave them to make ends meet. If the Jedi had not come along soon after that, Looma would have been no doubt subjected to the same fate when she had come of age.

However, the Jedi hadn't wanted her either, deeming her unteachable, and sent her off with other rejects to Bakura to work the agriworld. After a few years there, toiling in the sun, luck had shined on her. Sith had attacked and offered a new life to any of the former Jedi who wanted in. The yellow Twi'lek had jumped at the opportunity and had gone shortly to Korriban to start anew. But then after a promising partnership with a master, her apprenticeship had been cut short, and she had been abandoned once again. Looma had succumbed to an angry depression, sequestering herself in her quarters, avoiding contact.

And that's when the dreams and visions had come. Though they had always been there, deep within, they had resurfaced this time with more regularity and clarity. Images of her sister Leef as an adult. Feelings that she was in danger and needed her help. No longer able to ignore them, she had taken action and left Korriban, with assistance from one of the few Sith she felt safe to call a friend: the Noghri Cho Wroth. Without him, she would likely still be stuck at the temple, trying to contrive a way off planet.

The gift of the long-range transport complete with supplies and pilot droid had been more than she could have asked for. But the prospect of finally being able to search for Leef and set her mind at rest quickly trumped her everything else, and she had gone aboard. Her first stop would be Ryloth, as she thought it best to retrace her sister's steps. It would be a long journey from Korriban with multiple jumps, but Looma knew it was completely worth it if she could locate the older Twi'lek.

She had spent the extended bouts of hyperspace travel training herself. Without a master, she could really only practice what she had already been taught. Looma played around a bit with her metal shards, telekinetically controlling them and deftly moving them about with the Force. Most of her time, though, was spent with her lightsaber, a skill she was severely lacking in and would probably continue to be until properly instructed. But she still slowly moved through various poses of Shii-Cho, careful not to accidentally impale herself or burn a hole in the ship's hull.

One jump away from Ryloth, though, she had changed her focus, planning out details of her upcoming search there. Her strategy was to speak to as many slave traders as she could, hoping to find the one her sister had been taken to and that the being would remember the yellow Twi'lek. She knew she would have to be tactful, though, not letting off her true intentions in her inquiries. If all went well, she would then have her next destination. Despite the letter her family had received, Leef saying how  much she was enjoying Coruscant, Looma found it hard to believe that the capital planet had really been her sister's destination after Ryloth.

Stepping out of her ship and into the spaceport in the subterranean city of Kala'uun, she had gone straight for the lower levels where the slave bargaining took place far from the prying eyes of tourists. She hadn't bothered to take in the atmosphere of the place she had called home years and years ago, as some beings might have done, returning home after such a long time. And not just because she had business to attend to; Looma really remembered little of her time lived on Ryloth and the things she did recall, she had no urge to relive.

Wanting to keep a low and anonymous profile, the young Sith had draped her black cloak over her utilitarian clothes. She had raised the hood up over her head, her face in shadow and the brown leather-covered tips of her lekku just barely peeking through. Her red pendant was tucked out of sight. If anyone spared her a quick glance, she would not be recognized. That is, if someone down here even saw her or the hundreds of others around her as more than just background to their business transactions. As well, she had left her weapons back aboard her ship, and as well had tamped down on her  presence in the Force. Looma wanted no trouble, but if it did find her, was confident enough in her abilities to get by without too much difficulty.

Swallowing down her frustration with her latest dead end, she walked briskly, her violet eyes daring around, keeping aware of her surroundings. The next closest slave trader was just up ahead and around the corner. Looma hoped that this one would be more helpful than all the others she had already encountered. Stopping in front of it, she saw a notice that they were closed for lunch. Odd. Briefly, she considered knocking anyway and forcing herself in, but she dismissed it.

So taking the advice of the 'business owner's' sign, she decided to look for somewhere to grab a bite to eat for herself. She hadn't had anything since she had gobbled down a ration pack on her ship that morning before departing and was beginning to feel hungry. For that, though, she had to head up a few levels, above the slums but still below the public areas. Reaching a street filled with various restaurants serving authentic Twi'lek meals, she picked one that fit her budget and ducked inside.

[Dr. Jake]

[Sorry if this is a bit clunky, I'm still pretty rusty.]

Kala'uun was as much alien to Runa as the rest of Ryloth. The sorry excuse for a planet was not, nor ever had been home to the young Twi'lek. She had no fond childhood memories, no distant recollections, and no family here. She was here entirely by chance.  Of course, the vague objective of finding her incognito Master was always in the back of her brain despite the fact that she hadn't had a lead in almost a year.  

Ever since her little escapade on Af'El, Runa had abandoned the practice of stowing away.  It was risky and incredibly uncomfortable.  How she would deal with this going forward, Runa did not know.  In fact, she was only on Ryloth by virtue of a particularly kind gentleman who had offered her an uncommonly cheap seat aboard his freighter.  

Initially, Runa was charmed by her people's homeworld.  It was refreshing to see Twi'leks of every hue wandering about, relatively comfortable in their majority.  It was something she hadn't experienced before.  Everywhere else she had been, her multi-colored brethren had been the minority, typically slaves.  But then the harsh realities of Ryloth set in.  It was like Ylesia in a way, slavery and poverty were rampant, and this disgusted her.  She was lucky to have never experienced a life of forced servitude and couldn't bear the thought of being owned.

Runa stepped off of the ship mid-morning.  Once she got her bearings, she proceeded to explore the city.  After several hours, the Twi'lek realized just how hungry she was.  After all, she had skipped out on breakfast.  Runa wandered for a while before discovering a food court of sorts, a street simply full of restaurants and their patrons.  She strolled down the street looking for a decent place once, turned around and did so again, and was about to do it for a third time when she caught a whiff of something familiar.  

It was a dish her mother made while she was young.  Runa couldn't recall the name of it, but followed the smell into a somewhat traditionally themed bar restaurant.  She looked around to get a feel for her surroundings.  It was fairly clean, a bit tacky, but clean.  The little joint, a sign identified it as Togga's Tavern, was apparently popular, Runa thought, as it was quite packed.  She spied a couple of bar seats open and briskly claimed one for herself.

Runa again, this time more thoroughly, surveyed her surroundings.  The patrons were mostly Twi'leks and were decidedly middle-class.  She compared them to herself, quietly amused by how alien she was to her own people.  Some were dressed in utilitarian garb, yet the vast majority wore less.  Her people were not a modest people, and the women showed much of their brilliantly colored skin.  She herself could not be much more different, clothed in a plain black tank top and olive-colored pants.

After a few minutes, a young, pink Twi'lek took her order.  It turned out that the dish she had smelled was a type of pasta curry that she couldn't pronounce.  She did not, after all, know her people's spoken language.

"Not from around here, are you?" the young woman asked in Basic.

Runa smiled pleasantly. "No, Ylesia actually, but I grew up on Cerea."

"Oh, well welcome to Ryloth then."  The bartender managed before scurrying to the back to put in the order.

As she waited, Runa found herself looking around the bar again.  She half wished for someone to talk to. The chair to her right was open, and the one to her left was occupied by a burly male who was messily eating a sandwich.  Runa sat back in her chair and sighed.  Maybe the force would send someone interesting, or better yet, useful along her way.  

[Mara]

Once inside the small local restaurant, Looma looked around quickly for a seat, which was easier said than done. The place she had entered seemed to be quite busy and most of the tables were filled, almost solely with Twi'leks, as this was still in the part of the city that was not open to tourists and visitors. But then she saw an open barstool over by the counter and made her way over to it. She felt the Force was on her side when she hopped on top of it and made herself comfortable; hopefully service would be more prompt here than it was in the main area of the eatery. A quick bite to eat, and the yellow Twi'ek could return to her inquiries.

A couple minutes later, a Twi'lek with pinkish-colored skin slid a laminated sheet of flimsi in front of her while carrying some drinks to some customers farther down the counter. She picked it up and after a glance was dismayed to see that the menu was all in Ryl pictographs without any Basic translations. The young Twi'lek hadn't had much opportunity to openly use her nature language since a young child with her family in the lower levels of this same city. Later on with the Sith on Korriban and before that on Coruscant at the temple it had rarely been needed, as the Jedi preferred the universal nature of Galactic Basic. Looma bit her bottom lip, and her lekku writhed under her black hood. Such was to be expected in this part of Kala'uun, and it was her own fault to make such an obvious oversight.

But the yellow-skinned Twi'lek was stubborn if nothing else, and she was determined not to have to ask for help or to look helpless. She searched her memory banks for what was second nature for most Twi'leks. And after a few momentary struggles, she finally worked out a couple of the dishes. Rycrit stew was one of them. The name was vaguely familiar but that was all. Looma hoped it was innocuous enough, and when the pink Twi'lek returned, she ordered a medium-sized bowl, managing to pronounce it closely enough that the young server understood her. On her way back to the kitchen, the other Twi'lek smiled and said something; Looma merely nodded, unable to catch all the words.

While she waited for her stew, she decided to lower her hood. It hadn't been meant as a disguise but more as something to disappear anonymously into a crowd with. But with all the beings packed inside the restaurant, she was feeling warm in the stale air that was having trouble circulating through the room. Being so near the kitchen didn't help matters. She pulled out her lekku and set them on her shoulders, the tips encased in leather caps that featured some scrollwork. A matching headband was also revealed when she doffed the black material.

Her gaze stayed right in front of her, watching the cooks and chefs in back, but her Force awareness was sensing all around her. Despite the rather innocent bearing of this restaurant and the slim likelihood that any danger would find her here, Looma couldn't help but always keep herself alert to any changes. Gradually, she worked outwards until she had encapsulated the entire room. Satisfied in her brief security search that all was well, she closed in on herself again until she was back to a safe radius of only a couple meters.

However, doing so, she briefly touched another Force user. Startled, she focused on the presence. It was not much stronger than her own, and probably why she hadn't immediately noticed this being when she had entered the establishment. Not until she was actually consciously using the Force to check out her surroundings. Looma was unable to contain this curiosity, and so turned to her left to look silently at the Twi'lek seated next to her. Since her only experiences with practitioners of the Force had been either her fellow Sith, or the Jedi before that, she was interested in this young Twi'lek with grayish skin with no outward signs of being a member of either temple. A solo Force user? How unique!

[Dr. Jake]

Runa didn't take well to boredom and had fell back on people watching to keep her occupied. The man to her left was apparently a blue collar worker of some kind and was in a hurry to get back to work, as evidenced by his incredible rate of ingestion. No possibility of conversation there. Not long after she gave the waitress her order, another young female Twi'lek took the seat to her right. She was mostly covered in a dark robe, which was odd to Runa.  Most of her people went about in outfits that would make a Zeltron blush, but this girl was different.  Despite the conservative garment, she could tell the Twi'lek was not much younger than her and yellow-skinned.  

But her wardrobe wasn't the only thing strange about this Twi'lek.  She was a force user.  Runa wasn't a prodigy when it came to Force Sense, but she could very much tell the difference between an adept and a trained practitioner.  

Runa had been masking her own presence but because of how close the other Twi'lek was, there was no way she could remain undetected.  Besides, there was no way this presumptive force user would attack her in public.  She hoped so at least.

The apprentice was always curious about other force users and  could think of few reasons why she shouldn't at least talk to the other practitioner.  One of those few reasons was the possibility of being attacked either right then or in the near future, but she was armed and could defend herself if need be. Turning slightly to her right, she said politely, "You're not from Ryloth are you?  Sorry to pry, but it takes one to know one."

Runa placed special emphasis on the last several words so the girl would know that she wasn't actually asking about her planet of origin.  Her modest style of dress had already given that away.

[Mara]

(((Sorry for the wait... but hopefully we can get this moving again...)))


When the gray-hued Twi'lek next to her noticed her neighbor at the counter had been looking at her, Looma offered a small polite smile in apology and turned away. She extended a "Sorry" as well, unsure of whether the ripples she was feeling in the other's Force aura was discomfort, irritation, or something else; with both their presences dampened, it was hard to tell. This was not the place for her to get distracted with a confrontation with another Twi'lek feeling her personal space was violated. Her plans were to get her sustenance and return to her mission with as few detours as she could manage.

Looma had honestly not meant to stare so openly at the other female, unconsciously probing her with the Force, but it was rare for her to encounter another Force user in an environment such as this. Far from a temple populated and run by either Jedi or Sith. On the few occasions the young yellow-skinned Twi'lek had been away from Korriban, her master or other Sith had always been nearby. So it was a novelty to her to find another in the middle of Kala'uun, devoid of any identifying markers and likely independent of any faction.

However, the other Twi'lek did not appear offended at all but just as curious as her yellow compatriot, asking her a loaded question. Looma considered it and how much she was willing to disclose. After all, even if this was a friendly Force user she could learn from, she was still an unknown variable. However, it would be nice not to pass the time while she ate in complete silence. She inclined her head in acknowledgement. "No... not for some time" came the simple yet indistinct answer, unwilling to supply any further information or admit to the other's veiled assumption about her. Violet eyes studied the gray Twi'lek in her unadorned and atypical Twi'lek clothing before she put forth her own inquiry. "And yourself? You are also visiting Ryloth?"

[Mara]

(((And writing myself out of this thread/ending it, so I can have Looma move on...)))


The gray-skinned Twi'lek had answered her in kind, and Looma had smiled tightly. So they were both relative strangers to this home planet of their species. It was something she had wanted to explore further, curious about this other who had grown up far from Ryloth, a fellow Force user without any obvious allegiance. If anything, it would add a bright spot to an otherwise dreary day. But then her bowl of rycrit stew had arrived soon thereafter, and when she had turned back to her left after thanking the server, the Twi'lek had disappeared, her place at the counter empty.

She had glanced around the small restaurant, thinking the other Twi'lek had perhaps just found an open table to eat at. Her violet eyes rested on no familiar gray figures, though, and a brief touch of the Force confirmed what they had or hadn't seen. Her possible lunch companion had just vanished. If Looma had been more invested in the conversation with this stranger, she would have spent more time dwelling on it, wondering why she had been deserted her. But while her interest would never been sated, it was merely a whimsical inquisitiveness and nothing that would keep her from her mission at hand. So Looma just shrugged and turned her attention to her meal, slurping it it up quickly.

Afterwards, she had left the diner-like restaurant, the gray-hued Twi'lek already lost to her mind as she headed back to the place of business she had stopped at before detouring for lunch. This time, the front for the slave trader was reopened and bustling from the sounds coming from within. With a deep breath and pulling her hood back over her head, she went through the door. It was time to get back to asking her questions, as she tried to find whom had conducted the transaction of her sister.


* * * * *


No more than five minutes later, she was back out on the street, seething inside. The fat and wrinkly old Twi'lek man inside had told her to get out of his sight in no uncertain terms. Apparently he hadn't appreciated her knowledge of his illegal side business. And even though she had promised profusely that she was in no way affiliated with any kind of authority and merely wished information on Leef, the green Twi'lek had kicked her out of the building, not believing her and denying any association with the slave trade. Assuring her if she returned, he would call the police on her.

Looma sighed to herself and began walking off. She was running out of options now, wasn't getting anywhere in retracing her sister's trail. None of the purported members of the slave trade in Kala'uun, those few that acknowledged it, had any recollection of her sister. They dealt with so many, it was hard to keep them all straight. The yellow Twi'lek had realized it might be a fool's quest, but she had gone ahead anyway, unable to ignore her visions. Needing to see this through for her own peace of mind, as well as for Leef.

Of course, it was entirely possible that whomever had brokered the sale of her sister wasn't even on Ryloth but was an outsider. Might not even be a Twi'lek. All the information she was working with were the fragmented memories of a young child. She hadn't even seen the man who had left with her sister Leef. But she had started with the Twi'lek planet, her home planet, as the logical starting place for her search. There were plenty of other destinations she could check, now that Ryloth hadn't panned out. Looma would not give up, not yet.

She started back to the spaceport where she had left her ship. No use dwelling here any longer than she had to.  It was time to move on to a  new location, see if she could pick up her sister's trail somewhere else. Though Leef had written to them once, stating she was on Coruscant, the young Looma hadn't believed it. A more likely home for her sister was somewhere darker, away from the prying eyes of the Republic. And so from Ryloth, it was on to Nal Hutta and the rest of Hutt-controlled space.

Aboard her transport, she instructed the pilot droid to lift off and set coordinates for Nal Hutta. And then she went aft to rest up and prepare her mind for what she might find up ahead. If Looma had thought ill of Ryloth, the center of the Hutts' universe would be enough to make one retch. The yellow Twi'lek would have everything working against her, and she would need all her strength, physical and mental if she were to be successful in locating her sister. She lay back on her bunk and stared up at the gray metal ceiling. Oh, Leef, where are you?

[to Being Watched...]