Shipless

To relate everything that has happened since my last entry here and the present day would probably take an eternity, and certainly more energy than I have to spare. There are motions underway now that are more important, as well, that much is clear. I must focus my efforts on recording what I observe of my current situation; only then will I be able to understand it later. The events in between, while tumultuous, do not carry the same weight of destiny. And understanding the forces of my destiny is all that holds my interest.

How to summarize? I found myself, as the direct consequence of several misadventures, on a colossal space station orbiting Yormban Prime. I had never seen such a place before; once several individual stations, this one had been combined and connected over many decades until it now stretches a full quarter of the way around the circumference of the planet below. The station is home to 300 million people. It is truly an awe-inspiring place.

Sunrise behind Yormban Prime

I was, and indeed still am, in the company of a human named Ronin Sleek and a Wookiee named something that sounds like "Shakalakahh." I asked Sleek how it is written properly, but he doesn't seem the type to pay attention to such things.

The pair had a delivery to make to Jorkat the Render, a crimelord of ill repute (is there any other kind?) who made his headquarters at the station. Having joined the group only recently, I was only partially informed of what was going on. Some credits were exchanged, some acquaintances of Sleek departed, and the three of us were on our own in Yormban Prime Station.

Shipless.

I couldn't remember the last time I was without a ship. It must have been during my early days on Tatooine, but that seems like another lifetime now. You don't realize the truly life-sustaining nature that a simple starship can take on until you find yourself without one.

Yormban Prime Station did not prove to have very good prospects for finding a ship, either. The three of us had some credits all together, but short of hiring a privateer and his own ship and crew, there was almost nothing to be found. The only ship we could find for sale was a barely-functional ARC-170, in which we theoretically could have fit (though the Wookiee would have found it a tight squeeze). But that ship was essentially a snub fighter; we needed a transport more than anything, something for the long haul. And something that was ours.

Eventually, with reluctance, we decided there was nothing to be done but to return to Jorkat the Render (or "Mr. The Render" as Shakalakahh is fond of jokingly calling him). We had no connections in this place save him, and he happened to be the one person on the station who was truly connected. It seemed we had no choice, though the prospect of dealing with such an unpleasant character appealed to none of us.