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Dagobah, 1706 The thing about out-of-the-way swamp worlds like Dagobah was, no matter how famous, no one ever really wanted to explore them. Dagobah itself seemed to ward off the very idea of intrusion. Hostile and strange wildlife, disease, and an ever-present sense of wrongness permeated...

Staring into the warped sea-space before the collection of ships, Nakoa's mind was already trying to work out what sort of strangeness it could be. Nebulae were known to cloud sensors, but they didn't scans and signals the way this did. Moving at speed, a pilot might not entirely notice the...

A grin rife with mischief spread across the Wrean's face, as familiar now to Arla as it'd been a decade before. Some things never changed. If anything, their general attitude was a good portion of what drove Nakoa's penchant for planning things out. "Naturally. What you need is your name...

Nakoa seemed unphased by the Sephi's blank expression and lack of response. If anything the Wrean's smirk took on a somewhat amused curl toward the end while they carried on with business. "'Course we could," he replied, sliding over a compact datapad. It contained the relevant rumors and...

"Nakoa Singh," the Wrean greeted as he lowered their newspaper. An easy, charming grin spread across their face, almost disguising that split moment's sharpness when amber-gold eyes took in the Sephi's appearance. Nakoa's gaze lingered briefly on Sevrin's silvery eyes. "No trouble at all." That...

Their fingers brushed off sand from skin and settled rather prince-like, palms down, atop the Wrean's thighs. "You can either indulge this instinct and spread your name. Or... you can find where it comes from and so conquer and reforge it. Or both." A small shrug, as if to say 'either way'. "My...

Nakoa resigned themselves to a dull bit of waiting—nothing unusual in the Wrean's line of work. Patience was key. "Understood. No trouble." They spent the time with snacks, sensor readouts, and the usual schedule of study and practice. The crew handled the ship systems and alerted the...

Empress Teta, 0331 Originally called 'Koros', one the oldest sovereign world in the known galaxy and economic rival to Coruscant itself, Empress Teta was so named for the warrior queen who'd conquered it in ages past. The world-spanning city of Cinnabar covered the entire surface, much like...

A whole new galaxy beyond the veil of stars at the edge of the map. The news of its discovery had already lit a fire in Nakoa's chest. Getting paid to explore it was even better. And, by the Force, it was a lot of money. Just because they wanted to go didn't mean they'd short on the service...

"My teacher would've called it 'wisdom', I think." Of course it was a foolish desire. Sentient life was, by and large, an existence of emotion, not machine logic. Those who insisted they ran solely off of the latter were delusional. Knowing oneself was more valuable than blind arrogance. As for...

Nakoa blinked. Of course, they were close. Was it a surprise at this point? No, not really. As for the rest, well... The Wrean slapped a hand against his leg at Arla's very reasonable answers. "Just so! This I accept." Even with a shielded mind, deceiving Nakoa was a difficult prospect and he...

Long, slender fingers plucked the jewel from the witch-smoothed tabletop. Ever attuned to such things, it was more than tingles that spread up Nakoa's fingers like lightning. Impressions, echoes, fragments. The power in this jewel was immense, domineering, and twisted. And it was bound to blood...

Nakoa waved his left hand in a peculiar way and a bottle floated from somewhere. A soft stomp of the foot raised a flat-topped stone platform between he and Arla, serving as a table upon which the bottle and two glasses landed. Just as Arla remembered and very much a Nakoa thing to do, he was...

An eyebrow raised. "Isn't that a childhood thing, usually?" Their voice wasn't judgemental so much as curious, though that never stopped others from misinterpreting. Nakoa didn't know what 'built different' was supposed to mean, but it was ironically funny in a way they didn't bother elaborating...

"Unfortunate indeed." Stone beds? No thanks. They listened, both to Mallory's conversational reply and, to some degree, the nature around them as they continued along the upward, steepening trail. Mallory was, obviously, at least familiar with the Force. Baran Do would not accept an initiate...

Arla's spaciness didn't go unnoticed and, at some point, Nakoa paused their infodump to poke them with the notebook and a questioning stare. The return question wasn't one Nakoa anticipated, and he stared even harder for several long, quiet seconds. Then he blinked. "Naturally," he replied with...

Getting a good look at the younger Wrean, Nakoa noticed- well, mostly how young she was and a certain youthful spite about her. The older Wrean's grin widened slightly at the younger's denial of theft, instant admission of the actual problem, and subsequent suspicion. Nakoa tutted and wiggled a...

Nakoa responded to the human's bow with a similar but more theatrical bow. "Your glowing praise humbles me," he said playfully before straightening back up for the lazy handshake. "Have to ask. Are the rumors of stone beds true, or not?" Only the most hard-hitting questions from this Wrean, yes...

"For the adventure, of course." Nakoa paused. "And also, from what I can find, some very old original magic and, potentially, a sort of war machine." They shrugged. "When the Witch-King was alive, no one went entered and lived. All I've got are old, half-buried historical records and partially...

Endless research was Nakoa's specialty by this point. Not that they minded whatsoever, they loved it truth be told. It was just principle, in this case. This one had taken an inordinate amount of time to figure out, but in the end, they usually found what they were looking for. And so they...