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She looks so beautiful when she does that, the boy mused, watching his friend dance in the street ahead of him. The rare glimpses of sunlight that found its way through the mess of skyscrapers made her amber hair glow with a sheen that seemed to reflect and find its way into the darkest corners of the alley. Jerek gazed pleasantly on as Calista danced, twirling and spinning about, her hair flying around her as it caught the sunbeams that gave it a life of its own.

She stopped and dropped her arms to her side, staring up at the buildings as she sighed. Bringing her sight down, she looked into his eyes and a smile spread across her face. She let out a laugh, girlish and youthful, a laugh full of innocence, but one that gave her a way to hide her insecurity. The wave of natural fear that had washed over her when her eyes had met his, a typical adolescent reaction, had startled her. She loved being in Jerek's presence and she enjoyed his company, but his eyes seemed to hold so many more feelings than he showed, more than they were allowed to express. It was almost unbearable to contain her own feelings, but her intense training had formed instincts that told her to dam them up and keep them behind a rigid face and blank eyes.

No, she told herself, No, I will not. Her defiance went unspoken, however. She was sure that he felt the same way, that the Dragoon Knights were too restrictive, that they tried to strip them of all feeling, of all emotion, to become their perfect soldier. She knew he felt that way, but she could not bring herself to say it. It was such a decisive act, with such permanence that she felt she should not. The words could never be taken back, once they had been spoken, her rebellion was written in stone, inscribed for all to see. Her comfort with her own feelings and with Jerek did not yet extend to that point.

He smiled at her laugh, but he cringed inside. He had heard something in that laugh, something that wasn't quite right. Was it that she didn't like being around him, that she wasn't in the mood today or something like that? It invoked a fear of his own, but he quelled it. It was not true. He had seen her enjoy his company and spending time with him so many times before, this time would not change that. Jerek had been around Calista enough to know that.

Calista. Her very name conjured up warm images in his head, and sent tingles down his spine. His feelings for her went so much deeper than friendship, and he hoped hers did too. How he could ever find the courage to express his emotions, he did not know. Every time he was with her, he felt like pouring it all, letting it out and telling her everything. But time and time again, he didn't, he couldn't. It was the training that the Knights had instilled in him. Or perhaps it was something else, a deeper fear or inhibitor that prevented him from speaking out. He thought she felt the same way, yet she never said anything either. Perhaps they were both cursed, to be forever unable to speak truthfully.

The smile faded from her face. He was thinking, and she knew, about her. Her lips curved up again, but not as far as they had before. "What?" she asked. Maybe he would say what he was really thinking. She hoped he would.

Her question interrupted his thoughts, but he gave an instinctively quick smile. "Oh," he shrugged, "Just thinking about how you dance."

Calista felt her cheeks flush and grow warm, but she smiled back anyhow. She liked having her skills appreciated, she didn't get to show them much anymore. Her days with the Live Wires were pleasant memories, but fleeting. She was rarely able to just show off her moves anymore, no one really cared except Jerek. She giggled, considering that to be the reason she liked him so much. It was a childish reasoning, and she amended it immediately. It was definitely not the sole reason that she was drawn to Jerek.

"Thanks. Maybe I'll get you to do some with me someday," Calista teased, her eyes dancing with glee at Jerek's squirm at her suggestion.

The boy shuddered. Dancing was for girls, first of all, and second, he could never do the kind of moves that Calista could pull off. "Err, no, I don't think so. I'll just keep watching you, if that's alright."

The girl just gave a shrug and turned on her heels. She skipped a ways down the alley, spinning around to glance back at Jerek, her hair spinning again in the process. Grinning, Calista twirled again and headed around the corner, into the midst of a heavily trafficked street. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted Jerek emerging from the alleyway as well, and slowed to let him catch up.

As Jerek turned onto the street, he had to dodge out of the way as a hurried man rushed by, brushing into other citizens along the way. He had the urge to shout at him, but he would be a voice among many. Several others were yelling at him, their comments laced with various forms of offensive and colorful language, and in several languages. The boy shook his head and jogged to catch up with Calista. He slowed down as he caught up and matched her stride.

The pair walked for a ways before a figure caught Jerek's eye. It appeared, at first, to be a statue of some sort, but no one would put a statue in the middle of the walkway. It then occurred to him that the figure was moving, its body composed of some sort of fluidic metal. It didn't make sense. As the pair drew closer, the figure came into better view, and Jerek could make out its shape, the distinctive shape of a humanoid female. He shook his head, thinking it was a trick. No, it was still there. Gesturing in its direction, he turned to Calista, "Have you ever seen anything like that?"

It took a few moments for her eyes to find where Jerek was pointing, but when they did, Calista drew back at once. It was a figure composed entirely of metal, and it seemed to be moving. The Dragoon Knights instructed them in the variety of races in the galaxy, but she had never heard of one made of metal. It could be a droid or robot, but the figure's metallic surface seemed to flow as if it was liquid or molten metal. No droid could do that. Astonished, she asked, "What is that thing?"

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Player Info
Name/Alias Jordan
Where are you from: Minnesota, USA
Age: 18
How did you find us: Current Member
Contact: Email: elianatamerin@gmail.com
For the rest, look at the bottom of my post.

Character Info
Character Name: Jonathan Donadel
Titles/Nicknames: Jon, Don, Captain, Skipper, Whatever people will call him
Age: 62
Gender: Male
Race: Human
Place of Origin: Alderaan
Class: Noble
Affiliation: None
Rank: Civilian
Force Sensitive: No

Appearance: Jonathan is a fairly tall figure standing at six feet, and he towers over some of the shorter members of his and other species. His graying hair and wrinkled face is a testament to his age, but gives him more charisma and the appearance of wisdom as well. He is usually seen wearing a shirt, vest and pants, a casual suit, or just a sweater and pants, preferring comfort over style. In his recent years, Jonathan has also been seen in the company of two assisting devices. One is his spectacles, which are either always on his face or folded up in his shirt pocket to make sure he does not displace them. The other is a cane that he uses to support his left leg.
Distinguishing Marks: Jonathan wears and uses both spectacles and a cane.
Handiness: Right

Personality: Some who knew Jon in his younger years would say that he has lost his energy and vibrant youth. They would only be half right. Although Jonathan no longer has a burning passion for patriotism, his energy remains full, though some is spent on the pain of his leg and old age. In his younger years, Jonathan was a loud voice in the crowd of supporters in the Empire and Dominion, but as his youth waned, so did his enthusiasm for patriotism.

To most, Jonathan is perceived as a laid-back individual. He employs caution and wisdom that came from his experiences, not very eager to try something new. He enjoys his life day by day, not worrying much about the future. He is a caring individual as well, and will often put others' desires and pleasure over his own.

Jonathan does have one pet peeve, pertaining to force users. He was taught to hate the Jedi as a young man, and despite the absence of their presence for years, and even with knowledge of the Dragoon Knights who worked for the Dominion, he remains wary of the Jedi and any user of the Force or lightsaber.

Relations:
Parents who died long ago. Friends who have been lost to age and distance. The only relations Jonathan has now are the people who come aboard his ship.

History: Jonathan Donadel were born to two prestigious parents on Alderaan. Although not part of the royal family or the true nobility, the Donadel's were in the upper range of the middle class, and were able to provide their son with the same education that the sons and daughters of noble families would receive. Donadel quickly grew to be intelligent and a quick thinker.

Jon took a fancy to politics and observing the rapid political changes in his teenage years. The Clone Wars had an effect on all citizens of the Republic, and though many turned their eye on Coruscant, Jonathan did so with an avid fascination. He studied the reports that Jedi Masters and Admirals and Generals of the military gave, and the discussions that the Senators had on the war effort. He held his breath with the rest of the galaxy as the Separatist forces attacked Coruscant itself, which soon turned into a victory for the Republic upon the news of the Separatist leader's death.

Months later, as he was about to start his last year of schooling, Jonathan was surprised to hear that the Jedi had been the reason for all the fighting. It was they, said the new emperor, who had caused the Clone Wars and tried to use it to take over the Republic. Jonathan was infuriated, but not at the new Emperor, but at the Jedi, for their tricks and deception. Those who he had admired and wished on some days that he could be had turned out to betray him. The new Emperor promised peace and security in the Galactic Empire, and Jonathan drank every word. He told himself that he would do what he could to service the Empire and keep it safe and free.

When he graduated from school, Jonathan signed up for the Imperial Navy. His dream was to become a high ranking Admiral and lead the Empire to some glorious victory over a pirate or unknown foe that threatened the Empire. Four years at the academy did nothing to stamp out his dream, but over the course of those years, he lost his interest in politics. The Senate was still reeling over the declaration of the Empire, their powers drastically reduced as the new Emperor appointed Governors over systems and Moffs over sectors. And Jonathan's focus was turned on his work for the Academy, which proved to be a challenge even with his high-class education.

Jonathan's first assignment was to a Carrack-class Light Cruiser, the Dividend, as a lowly Engine Performance Analyzer. His duties were menial and tedious, but he kept good spirits as he reminded himself that he was performing a service for the Empire. His skills, though, were evident to his superiors, and within a year, he was given a higher position. With patience and reminding himself that he was doing a service for the Empire, Jonathan was able to work his way through the ranks of the Engineering department on the ship to Senior Engineer with the rank of Lieutenant in a matter of only five years.

While the Dividend was a good ship, the crew shifted through the years, partly because the ship's captain was strict and foreboding, and partly because the ship was one that often received new graduates from the Academy. Jonathan became part of the mostly-stable staff on the ship, staying constant to the ever-changing names and faces of crew below him. He became bored, however, and sometimes uncomfortable with the new officer's knowledge and techniques that surpassed his own. Having served for ten years aboard the Dividend, he put in for a transfer to another ship.

The other ship Jonathan was transferred to was the Avalon, an aging Venator-class Star Destroyer. Now at the rank of Lieutenant-Commander, the thirty-three year old Jonathan was assigned as the Avalon's Chief Engineer. The ship was prone to malfunctions and several design flaws gave the ship a severe disadvantage in combat with newer classed ships of the day. Still, it was able to fly and that was good enough for the Imperial Navy.

The ship was used primarily as a carrier for fighter patrols through Core systems, tasks that didn't place much stress on the aged warship. It rarely used its ability to land or operate as a ship to ship combat vessel, assigned strictly to carrier roles. That seemed alright for its captain and crew, and Jonathan adopted their nonchalance regarding the ship's role, and focused solely on his work. He wasn't much of a fighter anyways, but he knew his job allowed other citizens to perform their job without having to worry about criminals or the growing threat of terrorist rebels.

Jonathan spent six years maintaining the ship, fixing problems that cropped up, and making sure that it ran properly. After those six years, the ship's captain, Jiinan Ziracch, retired, promoting his first officer,  Milo Noth, to succeed him. Captain Noth was a dedicated officer who had served as Captain Ziracch's right hand for nearly fifteen years. He knew command and who possessed it, and approached a senior officer aboard the Avalon to assume his old position. Jonathan was surprised when that officer turned out to be him. Dutifully, but also excitedly, he accepted and was promoted to Commander to fit the new position.

Command seemed to suit him, and his superiors thought so too. After only three years as Captain Nath's first officer, Jonathan was approached by an Admiral of his fleet, who offered him a ship of his own. The ship, to Jonathan's amazement, was an Imperial-class Star Destroyer. He hadn't imagined himself as worthy of even serving on such a ship, much less commanding one. Nonetheless, he took the position, and became captain of the Vindicator.

Compared to the previous vessels he had served on, the Vindicator was a true warship. She was engaged in multiple combat missions every month, not simply serving as a patrol vessel or carrier. Jonathan served as the ship's captain for a few months before being assigned to the task force protecting the Empire's second Death Star battlestation, a huge superweapon that was able to destroy an entire planet, over the primitive world of Endor. There he met the forces of the Rebellion head on with the rest of the Imperial Naval forces assigned to the protection of the battlestation.

His crew and ship fought hard during the clash with Rebel forces. Varying versions of TIE-fighters met with X-,Y-,B- and A-Wing fighters from the rebels, creating a scene that would have been artistic if one forgot that the crisscrossing lasers were deadly and the explosions fatal, every fighter that went up in an orange ball of flame was one more pilot, one more life, extinguished like a candle on a windy night. His ship engaged Rebel cruisers and frigates while fighters zoomed around them.

In the heart of battle, the Vindicator turned broadside onto a Rebel gunship, destroying half the ship. Instead of exploding, the gunship's engines continued burning, as if they were set to go whether or not it received commands from the bridge. Jonathan ordered the ship to turn to avoid a collision but the battle-stressed Imperial Star Destroyer could not turn fast enough. The remnants of the gunship rammed into the starboard side of the Vindicator, destroying several weapons batteries and one of the secondary reactors. The ship's shields were disrupted and a Rebel starfighter, seeing its chance, fired several missiles into the port sensor globe.

The explosion of the sensor globe brought a large piece of the bridge's ceiling down, partly on top of Jonathan, and pinned him to the deck. The next few minutes resulted in chaos, only limited amounts of events actually registering in Jonathan's memory. What he did remember is that he had a perfect view out the window of the battlestation, and just minutes after the damage to his own ship, he saw the Death Star and the fleet's command ship collide, exploding in a brilliant flash of light. His officers turned to witness the explosion, and someone had the intelligence to boost power to the inertial dampeners before the shock wave would have ripped through the ship, tearing the ship apart. His pain vanishing, Jonathan stared for several minutes at the area that had once held the majestic battlestation in its view.

The Emperor and his second in command had been aboard that ship, the massive battlestation that was supposed to be the most powerful defense weapon in the galaxy. Now they were gone, and with it, the Empire's most powerful weapon. His entire life, Jonathan had only known the Emperor as the leader of the government, even in his days as Supreme Chancellor of the Republic. Now he was gone. Jonathan was devastated. The next few months seemed to pass in a blur to him as he heard about the attempts to crush the last of the Rebellion, and their relentless attacks against their own.

During this time, of which Jonathan is only vaguely aware, his ship was stationed at the Kuat Drive Yards for repairs. He, in the meantime, had been in an Imperial Hospital for a few weeks while his left leg, which had been broken in several places, damaging the nerves and muscle, when part of the ceiling fell on it, recovered. He was comforted by his crew and grew close to them, even without having a ship to serve on for the months it took to repair the Vindicator. He learned to walk with his leg, which the doctors said could not be fully healed, having had to remove a portion of his muscle to salvage the remaining nerves and muscle tissues, and a cane for support. Bacta which could have saved it, it seems, was in a shortage immediately prior to the Battle of Endor, and with the increase in injured officers following that battle, the doctors were only able to use a reduced amount on Jonathan's leg in order to have enough for all their patients.

Finally, the ship was restored to its battle-ready version, after a prolonged period of repairs in which the Admiral commanding Jonathan's fleet decided to take the opportunity to refit the ship. Back in service, the Vindicator saw several more encounters with Rebel forces before a startling announcement sent ripples through the Empire. The Rebels had agreed to merge with the Empire and create a new government. It was to be lead by the newly crowned Emperor, but he would share power with a democratic body, the Council of Nine, comprising representatives from worlds across the Empire.

At this announcement, Jonathan was enraged. He had spent years fighting rebels, now he had to live with them? Even fight alongside them? It was unthinkable. Several members of his crew shared his sentiments, but there wasn't much they could do. The Empire, now renamed the Galactic Dominion, still had missions to be performed. There were some cleaning operations, a few Rebel cells that refused to acknowledge the merge and continued to fight for their ideal of restoring the Old Republic. There were still pirates and smugglers and rogue Imperial officers who dragged their ships out of service and fled to the outskirts of Dominion territory.

The years passed slowly. Jonathan tried to cope with his ship, the new government, and what's more, his leg. On most days, every step generated some amount of pain. He refused medicine pills, not wanting to get addicted to some narcotic. Bacta only soothed him for a little while, it never completely eradicated his pain. The energy he had once had was put into tolerating the pain and his passion and once-vibrant personality faded. His patriotism faded as well, and despite his earlier disgust at the combination of Rebel and Imperial forces, he accepted the Dominion well.

Nearly twelve years, at age fifty-two, after assuming command of the Vindicator,  Jonathan resigned as Captain. He took a post at the Kuat Drive Yards, working on plans for future vessels, just something to keep his mind entertained and his leg off the ground. Two years into his work at the KDY, Jonathan's old ship, the Avalon entered the Yards for decommission. Her components were to be scrapped and her hull recycled. Whatever couldn't be reused or recycled was to be placed on the next garbage ship for disposal, incinerated in some distant star. His heart went out to the ship that had served him so well, and Jonathan put in a plea to save it. He offered a considerable amount of money to purchase the ship, just what he had earned as wages as a Naval officer.

It took several weeks, but the Dominion's commander of the yards finally agreed. Jonathan continued to perform his duties and make designs for future ships, but on his off hours and at home, he began redesigning the interior of the Avalon while he formulated a plan for the ship. It began as a retirement home for him, and evolved into a business venture. The Venator-class Star Destroyer was a carrier, of both fighters and troops. It was designed to hold large numbers of people in relative comfort for long voyages across the galaxy. It seemed suitable, then, that the ship would be transformed into a hotel, a sort of cruise ship that offered lodging and entertainment to passengers who would be able to come and go as they pleased.

As the designs progressed, the interior of the large dorsal hanger bay became enlarged, and the small compartments built for fighters were merged to form docks that could hold fighters, shuttles, light and smaller medium freighters, yachts, and light transport ships. Vehicle bays became restaurants and holo-vid theaters, small quarters were enlarged to suites and large bunk areas were split up into individual rooms. Turbolaser bays which had held the hand-operated guns were transformed into observation bays, conference rooms, or for one of them, into a room with a large swimming pool.

With his position at the Kuat Drive Yards, Jonathan used the remaining money and power he had from his own earnings, and his family's fortune, to transform the ship. The work went slowly, taking years to complete. There were complications along the way. One more than one occasion, Jonathan was forced to defend his use of the Dominion's shipyards for his private usage. Finally, the commander of the yards gave up, and allowed him free reign of whatever he needed to complete the ship.

Four years into the venture, it was complete. The top-of-the-line warship built in the waning days of the Republic was transformed into a mobile hotel, a cruise liner to top all cruise liners. It had been painted as well, and a pattern of alternating red and white patches and stripes covered the ship, signifying its peaceful intentions. Its weapons had been all but removed, the turbolasers stripped completely, the point defense lasers removed, and torpedo tubes sealed up. The only remaining weaponry were a few civilian-grade laser cannons protecting the ship's vital parts, such as its hanger bays, and pair of tractor beams to guide ships in and out of the bay.

When the Avalon, now rechristened the Spirit of Avalon in honor of his tour aboard the ship, was complete, Jonathan retired from service in the Navy. He began hiring crew for his ship and to staff the hotel/cruise liner. He rented out space on his ship to several chefs and a bartender. Once he had gathered a crew, he launched the ship and business, named Avalon Pleasure Cruises. His early trips consisted mainly of Core worlds, venturing only in places protected by the navy that he trusted, the Navy of the Dragoon. As his success grew, however, and cries and requests for the ship to travel elsewhere led Jonathan to organize cruises to worlds further out, even into the middle and outer rims.

It was these later cruises that began the ship's popularity. Smugglers and criminals, seeking safe haven and a place to lay low, frequented the ship on the flights between outer rim worlds. The ship's tavern drew their interest, and word about it spread, making the "Wandering Corellian" one of the Outer Rim's most popular bars. The fame soon spread to the inner rim, and Avalon Pleasure Cruises became known as Avalon Pleasure Cruises: Home of the Wandering Corellian. The Spirit of Avalon drew large numbers of passengers on each of its cruises, increasing revenue and creating a profitable retirement venture for Jonathan.

As the "Wandering Corellian" grew in fame, Jonathan made a strategic move and transferred the bar's location from the innards of the ship to the secondary bridge of the ship, which had once been used for commanding starfighters. The new environment drew different types of people, and no longer was the bar filled with lower criminals and smugglers, but prominent businessmen and politicians visited the tavern. The new bar environment, however, disappointed some, and the old location was transformed into a sister-bar of the "Wandering Corellian," the "Wandering Ewok." It never gained the popularity of the "Wandering Corellian," but the "Wandering Ewok" maintained the ship's income from the lowlifes that had made its predecessor so popular throughout the galaxy.

Other: Jonathan resides aboard his ship, the Spirit of Avalon. He rarely ventures onto a planet's surface, simply content to live his life aboard his favorite ship.

Possessions:
Spirit of Avalon, a modified Venator-class Star Destroyer
Model: Venator Class Star Destroyer
Manufacturer: Rothana Heavy Engineering / Kuat Drive Yards
Designation: Capital Starship
Length: 1137 meters
Width: 548 meters
Height/depth: 268 meters
Maximum acceleration: 3,000 G
Maximum speed (atmosphere): 975 km/h
Crew: 1400
Passengers: 6000 (Maximum capacity)
Cargo Capacity: 20,000 metric tons
Consumables: 1 year
Hyperdrive Multiplier: Class 2
Hyperdrive Backup: Class 14
Hyperdrive range: 60,000 light-years (effective)
Power output: 3.6 × 1024 W
Power plant: Hypermatter annihilation reactor
Speed: 9 MGLT
Hull: 1,620 RU
Shields: Equipped with a Chempat-12 Shield System (roughly capable of withstanding an attack by a light cruiser, such as a Carrack)
Weapons: 10 Laser Cannons and 2 Tractor Beam Projectors.
Onboard Craft:

Overall Dark/Light Stance
dark----------------light
1 2 3 4 [5 6] 7 8 9 10

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The boy shook his head as he watched his twin brother exit their makeshift training room. Elias could never understand why Jerek couldn't focus on his training, preferring to read or relax instead, or even work on things like Force powers. Oh, they're alright, he thought, but I can always rely on my lightsaber skills, I can't always rely on the Force. It was true, in a sense. The small amount of studying that he had done had revealed that some species were resistant or even immune to the effects of the Force, even when wielded by a skilled user.

That's why he had made it his focus to hone his saber skills to the best he could be. The quip Jerek had made earlier about leaving his side open came back to him, and nagged at him. Could it be true? Was he letting down his defenses? His form itself was a memorizing display of footwork, elegance and flow, an exposed weakness not only meant certain death to a skills opponent, but it was a flaw of his own skill with his lightsaber form. If his brother's assessment was correct, it was a grave mistake made on Elias' fault and needed correction as soon as possible.

Turning to face the fore of the ship, he took several strides that brought him near to the wall. Spinning around, his back to the ship's main cabin, Elias went through his moves. His feet danced as his hands, wrists and arms worked his lightsaber blade. Over, under, around, he dodged and lunged, parried and thrust. Finishing with a sweep of his arm through the air before him at about waist level, he imagined the waist of an enemy being cut cleanly in two. Bringing his arms down, he deactivated his blade at the same time, his breathing short and controlled. Having been aware of his motions throughout his practice seemed to reveal nothing to him. He sighed in a grim manner, disappointed at his inability to find his weakness.

At least they were headed back to the Dragoon Knights headquarters now. The twin brothers had been to Corulag to visit their parents, an event that occurred every year or so. It was a good experience, but it was always a relief to get back to the life of a Dragoon Knight. Structure and routine were comforting to Elias, though he knew his brother despised them. He shrugged, That's Jer for ya, he thought.

Placing his saber in the same storage cabinet his brother had set his, the twin headed back into the main cabin. He too felt the temperature change, though it was less noticeable as he had been the only person in the training room for the past half hour. Listening carefully, he could hear the water dripping from the hygiene pod, his brother must be finished with his shower. Instead of disrobing for his own, Elias sprawled out on his bunk, looking towards the front of the ship. From his position, he could catch periodic glimpses of stars streaming past the cockpit window, indicating that the ship was still in hyperspace.

A door hissed open, and Elias looked up. From the hygiene pod emerged his brother, Jerek. He was naked, without even a towel or bathrobe wrapped around him. He started towards the back of the ship until he saw his brother and froze. Jerek stared into his twin's eyes and a silent question was issued between them.

"What? It's not like I haven't seen you naked before," Elias chuckled, although it was comical to see his brother with no clothes, standing frozen in place with water dripping off his body. His twin brother always seemed a bit uncomfortable with being naked around anyone, even his brother. Though they always shed their clothes when they went swimming or took communal showers, Jerek seemed to require a short period of time to get comfortable. Whether it was the lack of clothes or the ability of others to see his body, Elias didn't know, but he knew that Jerek had some kind of fear or discomfort that took time to get over every time he was naked around someone.

"So have I," the naked twin retorted. He shrugged and water sprayed from his lightly tanned shoulder. Jerek's normally blond hair was colored brown by the saturation of water in his hair. He didn't dry off well, Elias thought, though that may have been the point. He knew Jerek liked to set the environmental settings warm and humid when he took a shower, drying might remove the opportunity he had to feel the coolness of water evaporating naturally from his skin. Whatever the reason, Elias was not too concerned about it. He lay back on his bunk again and stared at the ceiling of the cabin.

"So how long until we reach Coruscant again? Elias asked. His brother was obsessed with knowing the time and being able to judge how much time he would need for this or that task so he could schedule it accordingly. Contradictory to this, though, was the fact that Jerek was sometimes lazy and would perform tasks at the last minute instead of planning it out. Unlike Elias, who would, without over scheduling his time, be able to work on a large project little by little until it was done. Well, he thought, Even twins have their differences.