Tides of Destiny

[Professor Mors]

OOC: The contest for Sarela's affiliation continues on schedule then- the race continues!

"Your deception was to be expected", Vassyl countered, waving a dismissive hand, "You have been fighting a war of survival for some time now, Miss Malkova. While I know very little about you, combat and struggle are my profession. Had I been in your position, I doubt I would have acted much differently". With another friendly grin, Doren guided the small artist past the bucket seats in the main cabin, and towards a larger chair situated just behind the co-pilot, "Truly, you needn't apologize". The young Jaeman had but a moment to take his own seat across from Sarela, before an excited request for an introduction poured out. "It would seem I have erred in my manners once again", the naval officer chuckled, "Forgive me. I am Captain Doren Vassyl of the Imperial Third Fleet: it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance".

"For the time being", Doren continued, "It seems only fitting that I maintain my status as your chaperone- until such a time that we arrive at the Corporate Sector". The fact that Vassyl was due at Bonadan for the Northen War College Assembly was fortuitous indeed. Doren had at least one good friend and collaborator in the region, who would handily assist in directing Sarela to the girls' home best suited for her needs and interests. While now a directly-governed territory, the bygone Corporate Sector Authority had not been overtly scrutinizing of its denizens' origin. It would be a kinder haven for one such as Sarela, and one well-funded enough to provide her with the opportunities to mature and expand her own horizons.

"It will take some time for us to complete the journey", Doren added, setting aside his logistical musings, "So in the interim, perhaps you could tell me more about the climate on your homeworld, and your interests regarding Elerion?". The old CSA systems were as diverse as they were vast in number. Sarela would have several options to choose from, and Vassyl felt it important to size up which environment suited her the best- or whatever sort of destination she found most appealing. "After all", Doren concluded, "Given your troubles up until this point, I think a sustained, comfortable setting is the least I can hope to offer". Amidst the duo's dialogue, a veritable market wagon of flowers and painting began to pile up in the back cabin, until the order was delivered for final safety checks. In moments, the two would be rid of this hedonistic menagerie, and back on course: whatever heading it might take.

[Sarela Malkova]

Sarela took a moment to memorialise and ponder over his name, Doren Vassyl, still astonished at the seeming lack of malice towards her, she wondered if it was one she'd overheard in passing during her voyages. Unfortunately, his name wasn't one that sparked retention within her mind, though, the Corporate Sector did such that. Sarela had overheard of it in passing, the only notable planet within being that of Bonadan; sadly, that's as far as her familiarity extended within the Sector. Now, seated within the spacious main cabin, Sarela brought her legs up, squeezing them to her chest. The positioning itself was rather harsh, reminding her of the small cage that Zyrias Forto had kept her in for many years but had become willingly familiar. In and of itself, Sarela had found solace in the unpleasant embrace of the sort, fancying to keep it while staring over at Doren.

At the mentioning of what her homeworld was, and what the climate on it was like, Sarela visibly paled, her already fair features becoming almost otherworldly. Orvax IV, one of the most astute slaver worlds, would no doubt fetch a pretty penny for an escaped slave. She placed no mask over her apparent battle with telling Doren another lie, eventually breaking down, and saying, moderately discouraged in her tone, "I was born on Orvax IV. The climate there can be balmy at times, but mostly it's just suffocating and cramped, depending if your unfortunate or not. As for Elerion, I honestly don't have much enthusiasm at all for it. All I know is that the Starlight was brought to an impromptu cessation their by its Captain, Azalyn Shoma. For what, other than refuelling, I have no real conception why. It wasn't on the Starlights list of planets it would be traversing to." Now that Sarela contemplated on the idea of Azalyn's choice to stop at Elerion, she found that numerous speculations could be brought forth as truth, but none overly plausible to be the rational reasoning; sitting more so on the realm of being moderately fictitious.

"And I must thank you once more for the generosity you've granted me, even if I lied to you." Uncurling her body, she sat straight, "If you would allow me to speak sincerely with you, Captain Vassyl," her voice cracked at this, "I would request that, even if you've determined where you might place me in the imminent future, I ask that you might reconsider it." Pausing for a moment, so that Doren might ponder over her worlds, and so Sarela might look over her few prized possessions, softening at the sight of them, she continued, "I am, after all, adequately versed on how to escape captivity, no matter how comfortable such captivity may seem." Sarela's words were the truth, and she presented it as such. No matter how much she may admire Doren Vassyl, she would, even if it took months of preparation, escape from whatever situation that was not of her choosing, ten years of scheming against Zyrias Forto had proven such.

[Dastan Imatari]

The elevator doors slid open to a hive of busy bees. The steel and black colors of the room were ignited by white light lining the ceiling panels. The long triangular room was surrounded by instrument nodes, and consoles, and at the center was a starmap, with several other consoles forming an oval. Navigation was at the far end, and two of Dastan's own retainers were here on the deck, instructing and directing the traffic of the quiet, efficient commotion. One tall reptillian, and another humanoid male in heavy sith black and red clothing.

His eyes found the visage of the tall, lanky alien who had called his attention here. One arm cradling a datapad, the other was gesturing as she spoke to one of the military XO's beneath Dastan. Commander Cid Reaves. The alien gave a final nod, and a "Thank you, commander." He returned a nod, and shuffled off. Dastan passed him, to which he stopped and gave a polite 'My lord', Dastan replied with a 'Commander."... The two had a decent professional relationship, though Reaves did dislike Dastan personally... and yes- It was mutual.

As Dastan approached the tall reptillian alien, she gave a half curtsy and greeted him.
"Thank you for coming, Master. The translation was quick, as expected. They were using standard Sith encryption protocol for order members." she seemed proud of herself.

"What's the content?" He asked, standing before her. The top of his head only reached her chin.

"It seems a Lord Warvanus has sent for aide in the Gordian reach indeed. Though not militant relief- it appears an Imperial shuttle might be overstepping it's bounds there."

Dastan gave a growling sigh. "Why does Warvanus think we should get involved??" Arms raised, and then crossed before his charcoal tunic.

"It appears that there may be an Acolyte or practical of Lord Warvanus on board a vessel that the Imperials have stopped, and are running a search on. They're afraid it might go poorly..."

Dastan tilts his head back and nods his head slowly. "Sure, sure. New diplomacy states a total cease-fire between our two empires. If they abuse a member of the order, it would cause a domino effect in politics." Inhaling, he then raised his eyebrows- wanting to move along. "Are you and your Brother open to some... negotiations?"

"Vulnus is currently active in your Darth Gean pursuits." She replies, stoically.
"Ah yes. That's right. Anyhow- send coordinates to Nav, we'll make an appearance. " he pauses and looks to the front of the bridge-
"Helm- plot a course to the coordinates being sent to your node immediately."

The helmsman at the front of the ship replied with a sharp "yes, my lord" in the distance. Even if they left now- they still may not catch the Imperial ship in time before they left... But Dastan was a bit of the gambling sort. Travel takes time, and especially when there may be a few jumps in between their location, and their destination.

[Professor Mors]

OOC: Let the record reflect that the Gordian Reach extends roughly from Gridpoints O to Q. We are presently in quadrant R-6, and at this time have made no obvious trespass. Once I return to the Reverent, I shall be jumping Sarela and myself to Sembla, where I intend to hop onto the Hydian and ride it to Bonadan. The Sith representatives are more than welcome to claim foul play in terms of astrography- but I think such a claim will be rendered moot in short order. Perhaps a shift in the Dark Side or some premonition might serve you better?

Vassyl frowned as the young humanoid related her distaste for her home system. That was strike two on his list of social blunders, and he was not looking forward to a third. Clearly, the Captain needed to tread more carefully with this interview. Further indifference and sour relations to Elerion only hampered Doren's confidence- but at least he'd learned what did not suit the girl's preference. Vassyl was almost hopeful of a lighter talk, only to find Sarela's continued thanks dashed aside by a willful intention to escape legal custody. "Such wanderlust is not unheard for one your age", Doren mused in a neutral tone, "Though I cannot grasp your motives from my limited perspective". Yes, as one who had known his parents, and continued to know one of them at this time, Vassyl indeed at a loss.

Imperial Citizens enjoyed some of the richest resources and facilities in the Galaxy. With the handy aid of a few connections, Doren was prepared to hand Sarela a platinum ticket to whatever metropolis she might wish to reside in. It would not have been hard to accomplish, but if the child did not appreciate- or rather, held no desire for such things, the Captain would find himself caught up in red tape once more. Without warning, Doren's minor scowl flat-lined into an unreadable crease. Though he did not often call upon them, there were other ways to skin this particular Gundark. "Answer me this, Miss Malkova", Vassyl started abruptly, the silver diamond of an Imperial Star Destroyer growing ever large in view outside the main transparasteel window, "Was Elerion a random stop? Or do you truly intend to take up residence in Imperial Space?".

[Sarela Malkova]

Crossing her right leg over the left, Sarela blinked in bewilderment. Taking in Doren's scowl and the ever-growing austerity of it, her lips flatted into a line of suspicion, Sarela was more than prepared to go on the defensive, even if she needn't. "As I told you, Captain Vassyl," Sarela said, placing emphasis on his name, "I have no idea why the Starlight stopped on Elerion, other than the need to refuel, any other conclusion would be unadulterated speculation on my part." The rigidness of her body was obvious; Sarela knew nothing of Elerion and was tired of being questioned on the matter of the minuscule gambling planet. Maybe it was the teenage girl within herself coming forth, but Sarela simply glared and turned away dramatically for a moment, before deciding better of it and looking Doren in the eyes, "If you must know, I have no wanderlust in the slightest, I'm honestly just looking for a withdrawn planet of my own choosing to live the rest of my minuscule days on, and if that means I must leave Imperial Space, so be it."

Inhaling an audible breath of air and exhaling it in an even more dramatic manner than when she'd turned away, Sarela looked towards her flowers and paintings once more, unsure as to where she should go with the questioning any longer. She did not want to lie, but apparently, Doren did not understand the severity of coming from the planet Orvax IV, or what being a young orphan there entailed. Shifting her body, as to relax, Sarela's face transformed into one of indifference, "Whatever other questions you may have to ask, Captain Vassyl, please, feel free." Even if she found herself irritated with the Imperial Officer, Sarela nevertheless held him leaps and bounds above anyone else she'd ever been acquainted with.

[Professor Mors]

OOC: Day 9/10 for Sarela! By tomorrow you'll be able to register your character and go off to the races! I'll wrap everything up nice and easy with my next post: congratulations!

The feeback from Sarela was curt yet genuine. That was to be expected, Doren supposed. Nonetheless, now that her intentions had been made clear, Vassyl finally had began to formulate a solid plan to assist the youth in her pursuits. The Captain did not present any further inquiries for the short remainder of the flight. Once the Blackthorn's main landing hatch descended with a ceremonious thud, Doren wasted no time rising from his seat, and invited the girl to follow after him yet again. Descending down the metal ramp, the pair would find themselves enveloped in dark gray walls and rafters of first class combat hangar. The Captain and his guest's reflection glimmered up at them from a dark, freshly-polished floor, and the various technical staff paused to greet their recently returned superior.

Vassyl provided a brief salute, not wanting to distract his staff any further, and strode ahead to meet one of his lead aides, who had arrived in record time with a contingent of naval troopers. "Captain", the blond-haired communications officer chirped excitedly, "Looks like you found something on your 'errant venture' after all hmm?". The officer shifted a shoulder towards Sarela, ever eager to hear an explanation from his typically no-nonsense commander. "Try to contain yourself Lieutenant", Doren chided, "This is Sarela Malkova. Her relatives are old acquaintances of the Vassyls: she herself was caught up in that customs blunder, and I managed to get her cleared so that we can send them back on their way". That was a lie, of course, but Lieutenant Clemens had no reason to suspect as much.

"I see", Clemens quipped back in a half-consoling, half-disappointed tone, "And here I thought I'd finally found something to gossip over at the staff retreat". With a friendly, almost dopey grin, the Lieutenant turned some to face the finely-dressed youth, and presented a slight bow, "Welcome aboard the Reverent, Miss Malkova. It's no luxury liner, but I think you'll find it has a comfortable nook or two". Straightening up, Clemens drifted his gaze back towards Doren, and added, "Not to mention, any friend of the Captain is bound to get along just fine with the crew- if they can stomach all the regulations anyways". "I think that's more than enough small-talk Lieutenant", Vassyl grumbled, less from frustration and more a sense of urgency, "Clear out one of the pilot briefing rooms: I need to update the Malkovas post-haste".

Clemens shrugged his shoulders, and delivered an understanding nod, "Aye Sir. We mustn't keep the little lady waiting eh?". The Captain exchanged another appreciative salute with his comrade, before the two parted ways and went about their business. Thankfully, the pilots' quarters were reasonably located just off the hangar's superstructure, and in short order, Doren and Sarela were left to their own devices once more. Punching a few choice numerals into the meeting hall's main holoprojector, Vassyl wrung his hands some in anticipation, before a two-dimensional graphic materialized into view. It was a somewhat lurid icon: a vertically-aligned eye, almost reptile-like in nature, with several crooked eyelashes snaking off like lightning bolts. Just below sat the telling letters in Aurabesh 'Sound Only'.

"Lurker, this is The Optimist", Vassyl started in a level tone, "I apologize for the unscheduled call". Doren ran a gloved hand over his face, before continuing with a bothersome expression, "But I need a favor, and I need it sooner rather than later". "Well well", a silver tongue mused on the other end of the line, "I can't say I expected to hear this from you today- if ever". "Spare me the speech Dreafus", Vassyl spat back, before extended a hand out towards Sarela, "This girl is want for a trader's license- and it has to come from outside official offices. Get it fabricated and in my hands on Sembla, and it's an easy six thousand for you and your associates". Several minutes of silence pervaded the chamber, until the slimly, unseen proprietor probed further, "And~".

Doren clenched an irritable fist, and sighed before conceding, "And I will discuss the matter of the Morningstar Office Development with President Raquoran, in person". "Now that sounds like a deal", the disembodied voice cooed with delight, "Send the me the Little One's information and I'll have everything sorted out by the time you pop out of hyperspace". "Fine", Doren waved a dismissive hand, "Just see that it's passable- down to the bar codes". "Come now, what's the use in hurting my pride?", the voice chortled, "You needn't worry. Take care until then Captain: Lurker out". As the image faded away, Vassyl reclined some into his seat. Without looking over at Sarela, he commented softly, "Once we reach Sembla, I will ensure you disembark without issue. From there, you are on your own".

[Dastan Imatari]

OOC: Totally. I think it's just IC conjecture, and unease due to the newness of the treaty that may rouse the Sith to taking a look. Not like 'omg they're in our territory' .

The Black Spire turned slowly before their hyperdrive kicked in to visit the coordinates of the jumps.

"I don't expect to have to intervene. It's a trifle, so we observe from a distance. If we get word somehow that Lord Warvanus' operative is being handled outside accordance to law, we will involve ourselves. Apparently the operative is an important asset, and has sensitive information to deliver to Warvanus."

Venari gave a slow nod accompanied with an, "Of course, Master."

Dastan gave a nod to the tall alien, concluding business. Turning, he headed past the crew to the lift, which would take him to his quarters. His dark clad figure marched away with confidence. This ordeal seemed minor to him, but the force had a strange way of guiding him to be in the right place at the right time. Maybe this was another of those times.

Not that he was so adept with the force that it gave him foresight- visions of the possible future. This lord of the sith was no sorcerer. His talents lied within the physical. This one's command over the force was great- but not masterful. Though his knowledge, and abilities were absolutely nothing to scoff at- he was just not born with the potential to be exceptional with the force. Everything he had accomplished, was accomplished with days, weeks, months, and years worth of sweat, tears, and plenty of blood. That blood half as often not being his own. He was a Sith Lord, after all.

He retreated into his quarters to meditate while they traveled. His personal quarters were fairly bare. A single bed, a few chests for his belongings. A small desk with a holonode. Though one of the walls was draped with the standard of the Order of the Sith. It seemed to darken the room a bit. Standing before the standard, he knelt to his knees, then sat back, closing his eyes. The dark side would provide plenty for him for now...

[Sarela Malkova]

OOC: I just wanted to give everyone that participated a huge THANK YOU. I know that this thread may be nearing its end, but I've enjoyed it so, so much. It warms my heart how much time and effect you've all given in offering Sarela a place within the Galaxy. Since I'm a little sentimental, here's the music I pretty much wrote this post to here, along with Sarela's internal feelings: link.
Maybe anyone reading will get a semblance of what I was feeling while bringing this chapter to a near-close.

Following closely after Doren from the vessel, their images reflecting below them on the well-polished floor, showing just how much of a height difference the two shared, Sarela took a moment to gaze at the combat hanger, the everyday happening of those around her a blur of motion. For a second, Sarela wondered what it would be like to be a part of something exceeding more significant than yourself, a unified front in an attempt to better not just yourself, those within the Galaxy. This passing concept was pushed to the crevices of her mind as they came to a fair looking blond man, a Lieutenant aboard Doren's vessel. Seeing those around them saluting and welcoming their Captain helped Sarela to understand just how high of a standing Doren must have within the Galactic Empire. It made her feel insignificant in hindsight, yet help her realise just how he was able to go about conducting his business aboard the Starlight.

At the Lieutenant's words, Sarela found herself gazing up at the blond man's Captain, understanding developing just how lucky she was that the two of them had at least formed a general understanding. Though, before Sarela could say anything, the Lieutenant's was quieted; the lie put in place that Sarela's relatives were, in fact, old acquaintances with the Vassyls' family. Heart pounding, she blinked, unsure why Doren was willing to put not only himself but his family in danger of repercussions for helping her. Sarela's understanding immediately developing as to what Doren might be contemplating, she offered the young Lieutenant a coy smile and inclined her head as a token of acknowledgement; unusual enough, Sarela found his chipper demeanour and dopey grin as a rather endearing quality. Her coy grin turned into one of genuine welcoming, Sarela's face seeming to light, "Thank you, Lieutenant, for familiarising me with the Reverent with such exceptional hospitality. Even if my stay may be short, I hope that one day we may be acquainted under less time-limiting circumstances." Her voice was gracious, a bubble of laughter escaping as she said, "I believe that I'd take the Reverent over another luxury liner any day, especially after the last." No doubt, Sarela had confused the kind man, but she was sure that the Lieutenant would contemplate her words after, and the suddenness and urgency that was most likely uncommon for his Captain. Whatever determination the Lieutenant formed, Sarela was relatively convinced that it wouldn't be that of Doren helping some random orphan.

At the offhanded comment about being welcomed aboard not just by the Lieutenant, but by the crew as well, a ping of regret reverberated within Sarela and, with instructions to clean out one of the briefing rooms, the young man was quickly off. Unable to help herself, she offered the Lieutenant a small wave, following closely after Doren once more, this time no doubt towards one of the many briefing rooms aboard the Reverent. Once inside, it became immediately self-evident how much Doren was seemingly willing to help her. Throughout the discussion with the concealed figure, represented utterly by a reptilian eye displayed before them, Sarela remained silent, absorbing as much information as possible. Lurker, Optimist, Dreafus, the names and their purposes would plausibly never be adequately understandable to her, other than the fact that they were with no uncertainty codenames between the two of them. If more people knew, Sarela was scarce to have the contemplation of an idea to the matter at hand. Though Sarela did understand one thing, and that being Doren was more than likely targeting something of obvious interest to help her acquire the trader's license, made more evident at how suddenly the voice agreed to Doren's demands at the mention of the Morningstar Office Development and that of President Raquoran. Whatever the two were weighing over, Sarela once more had no inkling of an idea.

As quickly as the debate over Sarela's trader's license had commenced, the conversation ended. The way that Doren reclined in his seat caused guilt to pulsate within Sarela and, unable to help herself, she sat in the seat opposite from the Captain. Without a thought, she began running fingers through her hair, undoing a hidden chain laced through her hair that was impossible to notice. "Captain Doren," Sarela said, chain in hand, a small clear crystal dangling on it, "I'd like for you to have this; along with my paintings and flowers. The elderly matrons of the Slums that cared for me as a very young child on Orvax IV said it belonged to my mother. I want you to have it as a thank you, and so that you know I'll never forget the kindness you've shown a random girl." The chain, which was the same colour as Sarela's hair, which explained why it was so unnoticeable, was of the choicest quality. She had no contemplation as to where the chain might have originated from, only that somehow she'd kept both it and the crystal safe throughout her life as a slave and exodus across the Galaxy. As for the jewel, which was hardly noticeable as well, Sarela had often found herself looking at the small, completely clear, crystal and wondering what life would be like once she was free to make her own choices. Without a second thought, she leaned forward, placing it in Dorens hands. If everything went her way, maybe the dreams of a simple slave girl could change the lives of those around her for the better.

---

Static crackled, the darkness in Azalyn Shoma's private quarters glowing with shimmering radiation from the hologram before her. Sat within a seat, a beautiful woman in prestigious attire appeared. Straight black hair and pale skinned, human in species, the woman looked like a porcelain doll brought to life, "Captain Shoma, what do I owe this unexpected call for?" The woman said, her voice annoyed. "I'm calling to let you know that within the week we will reach Orvax IV, Madam Forto. All that's left is for me to drop these prestigious idiots off so that they might be on their way. We're well on our way to rebuilding the slave empire your Great-Grandmother, and my aunt brought to fruition. The slaves we gathered on Elerion will be a welcomed addition." Letting out an exasperated sigh of air, Veskasa Forto simply looked off in the distance, to what, Azalyn had no idea, "So bit it," the younger woman said, before the hologram of Veskasa cut to black, leaving Azalyn alone once more, a smile creeping on her face.

[Professor Mors]

Vassyl was not prepared for the sudden bombardment of gifts; especially that most-personal hair accessory, which scintillated only a touch softer than Sarela's silver locks. Such a selfless act of generosity hit the Captain like a sack of duracrete bricks. The art and arrangements were the girl's very livelihood: and this tiny piece of jewelry, though likely not worth much in terms of credits, was likely the only positive memento Salera could lay claim to. These tokens were far better than what Vassyl deserved, and for a moment, a torrent of emotion overcame him. It took an unearthly amount of stamina to choke back the sudden gush of feeling that permeated the military officer. Mentally grounding himself in the present exchange, Doren softly pressed the metalwork back into the girl's palms.

"I could not possibly accept such a fine piece", Vassyl explained with a sympathetic grin, "And it surely becomes you more so than I". Lacing gloved hands back onto his lap, the Captain was convinced his rejection of the chain would not go unchallenged, and made a clear, and reasonable counteroffer, "That said, if it is your desire to donate the larger works to my own collection, I will happily take them". Standing up from his chair, Doren straightened up to his underwhelming maximum height, and retrieved a small dataslate from one of the neighboring seats. It was a cheap displayscreen, and often recycled throughout briefings for the pilots to take notes. Diligently, the Captain scribbled a few figures onto a fresh page, before handing it off to Sarela.

The freshly anointed commentary was in fact, an address, and a set of coordinates that read, 'Hotel Providence, x57, y78. Jaemus System, Obtrexta Sector'. "Should we cross paths after parting ways at Sembla", Vassyl cautioned sternly, "I will not be able to disguise your origin or age again. Protocol will be observed". No sooner had Doren given his warning before his expression relaxed once more, and sprouted another candid smile, "That said, if you are in need of asylum, I urge you to seek out the address I've provided. I serve as the chief investor of this hostelry, and should you cross its threshold, I will ensure that your name is added to the premium admittance list". Making a move towards the chamber's main entrance, Doren cheekily concluded, "Don't be too surprised if some of your work ends up on the walls".

***Sembla, Sertar Sector, Grid Coordinates S-5***

***Imperial Spaceport SK-876R, Several Hours Later***

"Captain Vassyl, it has been too long!", a thin, bulb-headed butler droid chirped as Doren fought to keep the wind from parting his officer's cap from his head. "Spare me the formality Eighty-Six", Vassyl groaned under his breath, "I trust you have what we came for". "Right here, as requested", the droid confirmed, lifting up a slender identification chip clasped between a gunmetal claw, "Please take it with compliments from my employer". "You'll forgive me if I question the good faith of any such compliments", the Captain hissed, snatching the chip from the automaton, "Away with you: I'm needed back aboard the Reverent". The droid, unfazed by Doren's less-than-cheery attitude, merely inclined its luminous form, and wheeled off and away from the Jaeman and his smaller ward.

While the tropical islands of Sembla were popular resort stops, the world was lousy with active volcanoes. Such being the case, a repulsorlift facility had been established in the lower atmosphere, in the interest of avoiding any incendiary landing accidents. One of the system's three suns had just begun to peek into view, and a warm morning wind permeated the air. Stooping over some, Vassyl offered the faux-registration to Sarela, and peered over at one of the schedule boards situated on a nearby info stand. "The next shuttle to the surface should be here any minute now", Doren announced, glancing back at the itinerant child, "And we ought say our goodbyes". Extending his right arm out, Vassyl invited a cordial handshake, and softly addressed the girl, "It was an interesting episode, Miss Malkova, but very worthwhile I think. Best of luck, and safe travels to you".

[Sarela Malkova]

OOC: Thank you for everyone that joined! With this post, I'm happy to draw this thread to a close saying that I look forward to getting to see where Sarela's journey takes her, and beyond.

For most of the journey towards Sembla, Sarela ascertained herself by reading up on the planet itself. The chain and jewel, which Doren had returned to her, was now positioned around her neck, the clear crystal giving off a low illumination in the light. Though not designed to be used as a necklace, Sarela found herself fancying the idea of using it as such, and, even if Doren had returned it to her, she was delighted with his choice to accept the other items, a keepsake to remember her by. At first, Sarela had been dishearted at the rejection of the gift, but Sarela understood why he'd rather she keep it, and it thrilled her to know that the paintings she'd created while aboard the Starlight might find themselves a home for others to observe and contemplate, just as Sarela had. Many were abstract in their designs, with a meagre portion being panoramas and astral bodies from afar planets and systems. Maybe, just maybe, if others found her paintings as therapeutic as Sarela had when devising them, it would bring about a semblance peace while observing them. None of the compositions encompassed her homeworld at all, preferring to keep such displays from her mind.

The paper with the address, Hotel Providence, x57, y78, Jaemus System, Obtrexta Sector, which she'd branded into her memory, was stored away inside a medium-sized duffle bag that included her datapad, clothing and small painting kit. The identification chip, which validated her registration, was stowed away inside the bag as well once handed to her by Doren. Staring at his outstretched hand, a lump beginning to form in her throat, Sarela decided to ignore it, choosing instead to give him a quick and heartfelt hug. She was sure that Doren wasn't much of a hugger, but she found herself offering one up anyways, before quickly retreating, presenting the Captain with a salute; even if it was an awkward one at that. "Until we meet again, Sir!" She quickly stated, still trying to unlodge the lump. With that, she turned, so that Doren couldn't see her wipe the tears from her eyes, and gave a backwards wave, voice cracking as she said, "Safe travels to you, as well. I'll never forget the kindness you showed me, and I swear to pay it back in full, one way or another." With that said, she quickly retreated towards the waiting pad, the white cloak she put on while still aboard his ship blowing around her in delicate ripples.


---

As she neared the waiting pad, Sarela looked backwards and watched Doren's spacecraft once more ascend towards the stars above. Even if he couldn't see her, Sarela was unable to stop herself from lifting a hand in a final goodbye, watching as it vanished beyond the horizon. Though she was once more on her own, she knew that this was only the beginning, a Galaxy awaiting her. And, while one chapter may close, another opens; something that Sarela would learn sooner, rather than later, as she boarded the shuttle transit that had just landed with the other patrons, quickly taking a seat beside an ageing woman that offered her a kind smile, to which Sarela returned.