Bespin. How delightful. The crimson atmosphere glowed with the glory of something divine under the rays of the planet's warm sun. Masterful works of art in the thousands had been painstakingly created while gazing out over her surface. Writers across the galaxy had compared the sight to wildfires, to the beauty of a female, to billions upon billions of flower petals drifting in the wind without care. The magnificent floating hubs and cities housed diversity unheard of, trade goods of the rarest sort and any service imaginable legal or not. Workers came from far and wide seeking employment within the gas harvesters. Tourists came for the flights, skies and exotics. Outlaws came for the refuge and leads. This truly was an escapist's paradise.

"I hate this planet," Iisska mumbled while scowling from under the collar of his jacket.

"Oi! Don' be such a lil' pun'er" Balva jabbed him in the side of his leg with a pointed elbow, "'Less ya want we should go straigh' on back ta Hoth?"

"No..." Iisska sighed, "I'm glad we survived. Even more glad to be off of the ice... Guess this place just makes be feel like complaining." 

He scuffed his foot along the steel catwalk outside the docking bay. The two of them had been admiring the clouds while Sterling and Trinity contacted merchants for parts and services for the Harpoon. Iisska supposed he and Balva should be there for that, but after Hoth a little procrastination had been earned at least.

Below them there was nothing but atmosphere and a plummet into the clouds would send the victim falling deeper and deeper into more and more intense pressure until they were crushed to death. Unless the molten core was counted, you would never impact a solid surface. What a way to go.

Quin had ducked off the ship wearing nothing but her unmarked stealth suit almost the second they had landed. He wasn't sure they'd be seeing her again. Good riddance. At first he had been nervous, but who would she turn them in to here? And if what she had said about the galactic authorities had been true, he doubted she'd be trying to contact them at all. Iisska stifled a yawn and popped his neck.

"I still have a couple credits or so," he shrugged, "Up for some food that's not from a dirty synthesizer?"

"Celestials be merciful, laddie. I though' ya'd nevahr ask!"

It wasn't much of a miracle that the pair of them made their way through the floating city without being shot at, mugged, yelled at or otherwise accosted, but Iisska seemed to think it was. Upon recounting the events that had happened around him for the whole two cycles he had spent here on his last and only visit, Balva mentioned that none of the city hubs were the same. With more sulking and huffing piled on, the Togruta reluctantly admitted that the little guy probably had a point.

"Wha's yer bloomin' problem anyhows, laddie?" Balva rolled his eyes as they headed back after sundown, "Ya been bummin' 'round wit' dat stupid long face o' yers for days."

"Just thinking about stuff n' things, I guess," Iisska frowned.

Back at the ship Balva returned to the A.I. core and Iisska was left to his own devices. Horrible squirming insects filled his guts... figuratively at least. He found himself slowing as he walked past the door to Zen-- Gallow's quarters. He thought about stopping, but moved along. Several minutes went by and he was back. Then left again. On the next pass he raised his hand in a fist ready to knock on the door, but stopped. Maybe now was a bad time. He spent a grand total of about thirty seconds in his own quarters before turning right back around. Nope, now was as good a time as any to ask. He rehearsed what he would say carefully. Again he went to knock on the door, stopped and frowned. He forgot what he was going to say. For a second or two he paced. For a few minutes he sat on the floor by the door with his hands on either side of his head like the world was coming to and end. Then he stood up straight, puffed out his chest, pulled his shoulders back, balled up a fist and... slumped against the opposite wall and banged his head into it until his thoughts cleared.

"Okay, enough. This time for sure," he whispered to himself, "Just don't think about it."

Straightening up once more he pounded on the door with the back of his hand, confident and calm.

"Zen-- er, shit. Gallow, it's me. So things didn't go so well the other day with the whole snow beasts thing, but I... I think I can do better. Just not by myself. All you force user types take on students or something, right? I want you to teach me, or be your apprentice, or whatever... Please."