Journey to Arkania -Prelude - Day 1 - Students

Tosh-Tosh rolling Detective (perception)

Alyx watches the taller - yet younger - padawan run around, and she frowns at him in tired irritation. "Seriously, Lark. Did Ian give you sugar again? Or did you get into the Caf?" She holds a small pack on her back and a data-pad in her hands that she was reading before Lark started yammering. "I think you need to see a medic. You're far too excitable."

The Zabrak leans against a wall and looks around suspiciously, thinking Speaking of Ian, where did he run off to? She is certain he's going to cause some mischief during the unusual situation.

Tosh-Tosh stands, trying to practice serene meditation as he has been trained. After a few moments however, he notices an errant shadowmoth fluttering a few feet away. Like a shot of lightening, Tosh-Tosh's long Gungan tongue darts out and the shadowmoth is gone. Tosh-Tosh looks around sheepishly and hopes nobody noticed.

"No, thanks, I get more than enough as it is." Alyx sighs as he runs off and shakes her head. "Hey, whatever makes you happy, I'm not a medic." She does frown a bit thoughtfully though, and gets her comm out, texting, 'ian, I don't know where you are, but I think the amount of candy you're giving lark might put him into glycemic shock.'

'i'll switch him back to glitterstim then' The somewhat dark response is pretty quick, so wherever Ian is he is paying attention to the texting screen on his comm. 'don't forget to get the popcorn out of your bag when the show starts' That's ominous and the older Padawan is still nowhere to be seen. Knowing him, it's unlikely to be anything -truly- dangerous. Intentionally, at least.

Alyx nods at Zambar: they seem to be reading buddies now. "Still, what's with the droids? I suspect Ian. He always messes with everything for a dumb prank." She narrows her eyes at the droids. "If they start dancing . . ." She doesn't finish the threat, but the other padawans have seen her attempt to punish Ian for his crimes before. That's why their sparring matches are always so . . . exciting.

The light of the datapad reflected blue in the depths of the hood Errad wore. It was drawn up to cover his head and most of his face. His green eyes moved rapidly side to side taking in the rapidly moving symbols.

This was a relatively new work on Xim the Despot. Errad enjoyed the histories, but today he read mechanically trying to quell the emotions boiling inside. Never in all his 16 years had he felt so betrayed.

Ever since he could remember, he had been the best. He had been raised in the Jedi Temple and had excelled at everything put before him. When the Masters noticed his burgeoning interests in Jedi lore and Republic history, they went out of their way to encourage his studies. He'd heard the rumors as the padawan trials drew closer of the knights and masters who'd taken an interest in him. Where had he gone wrong? What had he done to deserve this?

Errad rounded the last corner to the platform where the Boundless was docked. He looked up from the datapad for a moment to verify he was in the right place. Errad sighed. It was definitely the right place. He checked the hang of his cloak that draped over his temple garb. It seemed alright, not that he cared.

Errad had gone before the Council that morning with high expectations. Perhaps his scores had been high enough that he would be allowed to avoid the trials all together. Maybe he had been summoned to meet his new master. He was sure it would be someone amazing; maybe even one of the Council members themselves!

The Chambers were cold in the early hours of the morning. The assembled masters looked at him impassively when he entered. Errad stood at the center of the chamber and bowed, barely able to contain his excitement.

From the moment the masters began speaking, he felt as if he'd died a little inside. He was not meeting his new master and further, both his trials and assignment to a master would be dependent on how he performed in the menial task of helping to build a new temple on some frozen wasteland of a world called Arkania. The masters made it seem like it was a great honor and a task suited to his abilities, but Errad saw it for what it was: a brush off. It was task better suited to the Jedi support corps rather than one of their most promising students.

Errad had done his best to hide his disappointment. It was difficult, but he thought he might have kept his emotions in check before the Masters. He'd left the Council chamber dragging his feet as if he was on a death march.

Errad put away his datapad and took a deep breath. This was going to be horrible. He knew it.

Well, no use putting off the inevitable, he thought and strode onto the platform where he saw a group of other young people gathered. I suppose these must be my "peers", he thought.

"Greetings. I'm..."

He didn't finish his sentence. The other youths were focused on the loading droids and not on him. Errad looked and saw the droids arranging themselves into battle formation...

The droids move themselves into a regimented formation, ceasing their activities altogether. More droids, protocol and astromech, start to disembark from the Boundless, piling into the own formations. It has become almost eerily quiet on the docking pad as the last of the droids fall into order.

Then, all of a sudden, there is noise. A pulsating bass track produced by the maintenance droids starts to fill the air before the protocol droids and astromechs add in the treble. The various metal beings start to perform a comically stilted series of dance maneuvers as none of their bodies are really design for such a thing. Plasma torches and arc lights from the maintenance droids and the astromechs bring light and color and a definite fire hazard to the landing platform as holoprojectors suddenly come to life, displaying on the side of the Boundless 'Fuck off, Coruscant!'

The music swells a bit as a loading crane brings a pallet into view with a long haired human standing atop it. Wearing a black leather jacket and pants more purposed towards hover bike riding starts to sing. His gravelly baritone has some skill but he mainly powers through on limitless confidence.

"Fuck off, Coruscant!
You really were the worst,
All the smog and the trash,
s'nough t'make my head just burst!"

The pallet swings down to bring him more into view as the droids continue their shuffling dance moves, looking like a corpse march more than the back-up dancers of a pop song.

"Why are you such a bullshit plaaace?
All this crap stacks right up to my face!
Where are your trees, your parks and your rivers?
Your monster, planet-wide city gives me the shivers!"

The holoprojectors switch to flashes of light in various colors without regard for any epileptics within a two kilometer radius. The singing continues on as the crane brings the singer back down for another pass, this time he points down at the crowd. Specifically he points down at Alyx with a grin.