Pamarthe was a planet of oceans, islands, wooden bridges, strong alcohol and terrible-smelling food that was, actually, not that bad once you got past the smell. But more than that it was THE planet you went to if you wanted to find pilots as daredevil as they came and crew-members hard and experienced enough to patch up a torn hull with some tape and half an hour. It wasn't usual that people went out to Pamarthe itself to gain the services of these humans however as they could often be found wandering the stars for such work.
So why was he here?
Because he needed more than just a handful of the pilots to form a really dangerous fighter squadron - he needed enough of them to man several squadrons, some combat-shuttle runs and man corvettes. People tended to forget that the Pamarthens had worked for the Empire as pilots and crew for years before they, by and large, joined the Rebellion after their honor was pushed one time too many. But the only way to gain such co-operation from such a large group of the skilled spacers was to go to the planet itself and deal with the Guilds.
They were like Unions really that represented crew and pilots and held massive amounts of influence over their people. If they agreed to sign their people on with the Jedi Order under contract then it would be a sign they were good for the people. They would come, they would take their contracts and they would fly their ships across the Galaxy.
He wasn't alone however.
"Weiss, you're not afraid of heights are you?"
Max walked along the wooden and rope bridge which was the very definition of "rickety" without a care in the Galaxy even as the strong winds moved it angrily from side to side and the crashing waves below showed hints of aggressive marine life.
"Don't look now but I do believe the local fish wish to eat us as well."
@Six
