C.B. Ash

Dr. Savak gripped the trooper’s hand with a brief greeting. “Arguably, that may be the most unsettling, yet still fascinating news I’ve encountered today even with the events of the cave in. Though fitting ‘terrorism’ to Jedi is as ill-advised as dancing shoes to a Hutt.”

He smiled. “I’m Kham Hvit Savak, doctor of linguistics and anthropology. Most call me Savak. The young lady is Gwen, my inventive research assistant.” He gestured to the dust-coated walls. “If I might suggest, top of our menu today would be a solid map of what’s around us. We need to find any other survivors and an exit. I have a refreshingly liberal-minded pilot waiting above. With luck, he’s not gotten himself on the wrong side of any surface shenanigans.”

Savak watched Gwen move aside and speak to the young boy, Ciz. He nodded in approval. He had noticed before she had a calming way about her. The doctor turned his attention to the young lady in the tattered work clothes. Her tone and body language was tense. When she mentioned that she heard something, he turned his ears to listen for himself. He heard nothing, which raised his suspicions.

And yet this day continues to surprise, he thought. A young Jedi who doesn’t dress the part? Perhaps. If so, that’s a rather an interesting side to the diverse Jedi culture. Certainly something to remember.

The doctor gave back the smile she offered. His lupine features softened with his ever present curiosity. “It might help, one never knows. And true, there is always safety in numbers. Best even when those numbers are moving if someone is tracking you. Now, how many were in your group, Talya?”

20 May 2015 ·

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