THE GALACTIC REPUBLIC is in a state of crisis. The public perception of JEDI ORDER is at an all time low even as they take more and more power in the Galactic Senate, while a shadow organization of NEW SITH has waged a hidden war against the Order.
NAR SHADDAA, smuggler moon over the Hutt homeworld of Nal Hutta, is the newest battleground in this undercover conflict. The new Jedi Temple to be erected would stand as a beacon of hope, but there are many who would see the Hutt's avoid any kind of collaboration with the Jedi, and some who would see the Sith come to power in Hutt Space.
Sent by the Jedi Masters and serving their interests, the crew of the PALLID SLOTH approaches the city moon after a journey of several weeks. A safe and boring journey so far, despite repeated warnings of pirates, slavers and possible enemy action. Soon their journey will be over, and the real struggle will begin...
Jek kicked back in the beaten and patched pilot's seat. The stars flashed by as he idly tapped the computer screen, watching the number fly past. "Ladies and gentlemen, we still have about a day before we hit Nar Shaddaa. So if anyone is bored like I am, feel free to join me in the cockpit for some entertainment. Note: please bring entertainment." He droned over the comm.
"So what you're saying is, we aren't there yet," J'Ruuk grumbles unhappily, his Basic deep and rough, but otherwise perfectly understandable. He had opted to take a too-small backseat within the cramped (to him, at least) cockpit. For the past few hours, he'd nod off every couple of minutes, before waking up to scratch his belly. To his credit, he didn't complain... much. It was clear that his presence hadn't done much of anything to allay Jek's boredom.
"Not even close, throw rug. I don't suppose you have a Sabacc deck, do you?"
J'Ruuk grunts. "Nope. Besides, last time I played with one of you Jedi types I got cleaned out."
"Not a Jedi, throw rug. How many times I got to remind you? Pilot for Jedi, not Jedi." He sighs deeply, dramatically. Flicking a few switches, he brings up a display. "So, remind me again how the Jedi roped you into this bantha hunt."
The Whiphid snorts before addressing Jek's question. "A favor. For a friend," he replies simply, raising a clawed finger to scratch his nose. "Probably not getting paid enough."
"Favors never pay enough. But at least we get to travel in the old lap of luxury here, right?"
"Hey! Be nice. This ship is a work of art and the only thing protecting you from sucking vacuum. She's a beauty, aren't you, girl?" Jek strokes the comm panel as he overhears Buceda's exceedingly rude mutterings.
"Objection." NT-2B's voice chirps over the comms system. "This is merely a machine, which you know has no feelings. It would also seem, based on our history banks, as though 'Pallid Sloth' is an accurate moniker, with the length of this journey. Sloths were notoriously seen as slow and lazy animals. And also dumb. Which certainly fits this ship." A sound comes over the Comm of NT-2B attempting to simulate someone clearing their throat. "We have been lucky to avoid pirates thus far. Ships can be replaced - you young ones are the remarkable things here."
"Damn tin man." Jek mutters as the odd droid's voice chirped over the comm. "If you're going to insult my ship, Tin Man, I'm going to introduce you to an airlock."
Omi-Cron lounged about in the cabin of the Sloth, sprawled out across her pull-down cot. She chuckles to herself as the bickering from the cockpit floats throughout the ship, curling up in her robes with a sigh.
"Won't be long now..." She mutters to herself, dozing off slightly.
Almost on cue with NT-2B's diatribe about sloths, J'Ruuk lets out a loud yawn and once again scratches his belly. For a moment, the resemblance is astounding. "Meditating? That the thing you do when you close your eyes and sit really still?" he asks, his eyes drooping, "I can use me some of that right about now."
Jek smirks. "Throw rug, when you do it and start snoring, it's called a nap!"