Waves of Uncertainty
Posted on Sat Mar 16th, 2019 @ 10:14pm by Bomoor Thort & Thane
2,553 words; about a 13 minute read
Chapter:
Chapter V: Unbound
Location: Übal Channel, Just off the Eastern coast of Üssina, Öetrago
Timeline: Several hours after "First Port of Call"
OLD
"Ooh... umm..." The Ongree seemed to consider the suggestion awkwardly, and instead took the moment to idly inspect some of the boat they would be using to travel. "Yes, quite recently. A kind people, the Elenca, keeping to themselves but always willing to lend a hand! Hospitable to the, uhh, to the last! We've seen a few come by Polbuu for trade or transport, but since the Conflict they've more or less stuck to their grazelands, migrating a bit less than the rest, I've seen. Doctor Buhhgs spends more time out there than I do, surprisingly. I think he likes them - hard as that is to believe."
Bruta contemplated for a moment, finding it hard not to wonder whether Mumin would actually want to see him. She had been suitably encouraging when Bomoor had expressed an interest in joining the Jedi, after the visit from the wise Bith from the Reborn Order, but it meant a departure from the life she had originally planned for him here on Öetrago. The older Thort had often wondered whether she blamed his Republic influence for taking her boy away and, consequently, had led to the rift between the pair of them. There were few other explanations for them falling out of love besides simply drifting apart.
“I trust you to get me there,” Thort nodded towards Senob, deciding not to dwell on doubts, “So let us not delay any further.”
After thanking his host and finding that the Doctor must have slipped off at some point for what he would surely deem ‘more pressing matters’, Bruta made his farewells with Llim and they set off with their guide down to the docks, with Gyus’ mid-day light glistening off the sea, bringing optimism for their journey ahead.
NEW
OOC: Ship's deck ambience: Sailing the Übal Channel
Travelling the seas was not an intuitive task for most Ithorians, having a history of revering and living off the land and its produce. However, as the Üssinan coastline sped past them from a distance, Bruta considered how much life must surely exist beneath the waves, equally deserving of preservation as that on the land. Despite his curt nature, Dr Buhggs’ research into Öetrago’s oceans might well immensely expand the scope of the restorative efforts of Mother’s Aid.
Setting aside his idle thoughts of the H'nemthe scientist, the diplomatic liaison checked his pocket chronometer to find that it was already late in the day. He turned around to face the setting sun, which now bathed the sea in an orange light and cast long shadows across the desk of the watercraft. In the distance, Übal island sat as a dark flat mass on the horizon. Llim had secreted himself below deck, troubled by seasickness but Bruta’s other companion and guide on his trip to visit the Elenca herd was standing proudly at the bow of the vessel, facing down the salty evening air.
“This is quite a way to travel,” Bruta addressed the Ongree as he came to stand just behind him at the front of the craft, “Sometimes you forget you are travelling at all with all the motion dampening in some of these modern speeders, but the wind and the waves out here give you a real sense of progress being made.”
Bruta was fairly good at finding the right words to speak to each individual’s personal values. While the Ithorian diplomat was fairly fond of a smooth, quiet ride in a sealed speeder, it didn’t mean he couldn’t understand what made sea travel pleasurable for one such as Yllib Senob.
"Ah, Mister Bruta!" Yllib-Senob turned and greeted his vessel's guest, upturned face smiling widely. The amusing tricorn hat still remained firmly ensconced upon the jolly sailor's peculiar anatomy, even as he jumped down a step to stand beside the other man. "It's firmly my view that it is the only way to travel, sir! Too many on this world seem to forget how idyllic its seaways and rivers can be, so enamoured are they with the trees and fields of the lands. As our Mon Cal and Nautolan friends will quickly remind us; there's a lot of life in these here waters, and there's no finer thing than riding the waves with good friends." The smile then weakened slightly, and a hint of concern peppered the Ongree's eyes. "We are friends, aren't we, Mister Bruta?"
Curious at the sudden apparent show of insecurity from the cheery being, Bruta quickly worked to reassure him, “Anyone who works as hard as you to open Öetrago up to the wider galaxy is a friend to me. But, tell me, have you always lived on our dear planet? You must have, at least, spent many years here to know the waterways so well.”
"Not long enough!" Yllib-Senob replied, buoyed by the Ithorian's kindness towards him, his physically-upturned face stretching into one of his trademark Ongree smiles - perhaps frightening to those unused to them. "Even ten lifetimes would not be enough to properly explore your wonderful world's beauty... or to unlock the many secrets of its waterways and ancient coves! Although the herds have been for now for many hundreds of years, there is so much history lost and forgotten within the dark crevices of Öetrago. Let crusty old Buhggs have his rock studies and political aspirations; I intend to find the lost treasures and hidden wellsprings of this mighty Outer Rim jewel."
Diplomat Thort couldn’t help but be drawn in by the man’s genuine nature. It was rare within today’s Republic to still find those that possessed that ‘frontier spirit’; seeking new horizons to conquer and new challenges to face. Most Ithorians, save for the Partom Herd of the far-off Moz islands, would never look upon their oceans and see them as some great unknown but perhaps that was a limitation of their mindset. It was often said (although not always for the kindest of reasons) that the Ongree had a different perspective on life.
Still smiling, the Ongree captain had twisted himself to stare out at the ocean beyond him once again, foot raised and resting against the side of the boat, the kindly and fumbling Yllib-Senob doing his utmost to appear worldly. "I have always envied how attuned to the world around you you Ithorians are," he continued, eyes drifting towards the nearby landmass they continued to pass. Dotted along the coastline, visible in their own herd as they grazed upon the verdant landscape, were clusters of native cattle-like mumon. A few of them upturned their large and snouted faces to regard the passing travellers, all-the-while their heavy jaws continued grinding and chomping away at their pilfered grass. "And what about you, Mister Bruta? Do you find time for these humble beauties in the city?"
“Well, I was not born into the Mooko tribe but I did grow up in the shadow of the great city on Übal island over there,” Bruta gestured his flattened head in the direction of the now darkened island, twinned with the smaller island that held the capital city, “My birth tribe is not, in fact, Öetragan as my parents were from offworld and only settled here when they decided to start a family. Choosing not to roam but to start a farm. It was, as it often is, a very big family: I had 12 brothers and sisters. Land on Übal is not as dear as on Mooko so we had plenty of room to roam.”
Turning his gaze back to the mainland, Bruta seemed to remember his own spirit for adventure, “The farm did well and is now quite renowned on Übal. But still, as soon as I could I was off the island and looking for something different from a life of agriculture. I spent a lot of time trying the roaming life of the herds and found particular acceptance within the Elenca Herd, where I met a young spiritual healer who eventually became my partner. I worked with her herd and her family for quite some time as I developed quite a talent for working out the differences between herds.”
The Ongree nodded sagely at the Ithorian's words. "Aye, you have the reputation. Doctor Buhggs could learn a thing or two from your good self, I tell you. But I, for one, would not care to be in the middle of an Ithorian showdown. For all our sakes, we're lucky the Ithorians are a peaceful lot!" Yllib-Senob then seemed to pause thoughtfully, mulling the conversation before speaking again. "Forgive me for being so forward, Mister Bruta, and tell me if I'm being as such, but what with us being friends, and all, I thought I should ask," he bumbled, "what became of your, uhh, partner? Seeing as you came from such a big family, like."
Bruta smiled back at Yllib, turning away from the darkened ocean and back towards the deck, which was now warmly lit by the lanterns dotted around the ship.
“I appreciate your discretion, but I am sure you know that the partner I refer to was Mumin Mozo,” the diplomatic Ithorian nodded as he considered his awkward history of love, “She is the mother of my child. My only child: Bomoor.”
His companion blinked mindlessly a few times, an expression Bruta was soon coming to realise was quite typical for the awkward, but well-mannered and kindly, Ongree. "That..." he began, tipping off his tricorn to scratch at the shining head-chin it sat atop, "that... seems quite conservative, Mister Bruta, if you don't mind my saying."
“Very true,” sighed Bruta, “It is a rare thing to have a brood of only one. Some said it was a sign that he was destined to be a great healer, maybe even an Oracle but an equal number brought into question Mumin's fertility and suitability as a mother to the herd. I think it was partly that which led me to leave, hoping that my disappearance would cast the blame onto me. The great Matriarch Mozo has more than proven her worthiness in the years since but it was difficult at first and I may have made it harder for Bomoor often taking him away from that life to see the big city after starting my career in the capital…”
He paused and the sound of washing waves against the sturdy boat was the only sound punctuating the silence.
"Mister Bruta, I may not have had any spawn of my own over the years, but it doesn't take a wise herd patriarch to figure out when a man's got integrity, and the sea minerals to back up that integrity to boot," Yllib-Senob finally said reassuringly, sidling a little closer to the Ithorian as the boat rocked slightly. "You did a damn fine thing for that young lass, it seems to me, by taking yourself away from your love to protect her. I've met many a man and woman sailing up and down these waters, and in my official capacity working for the Cultural Committee, and there's very few I could confidently say would've done what you've done for Matriarch Mozo. More and besides, you can't be held accountable for giving your boy a flavour of the wider universe; there are many oceans to sail in this world, and not all of them have waves, you know?"
The would-be sailor's upside-down smile then faltered slightly, his teeth grinding a little as he fumbled for his next words. "So, uhh, where is young Master B-Bow... Bowmoor, you said? A fledgling diplomat like yourself in the capital, or a budding healer along with his mum's herd?"
"Bomoor is..." Bruta began, "Well, the awful thing is, I don't honestly know where my boy is. For many years, I took comfort in the fact that he had found his place in the universe: as a Jedi for the Reborn Order. I had heard he was a strong and talented Jedi and, yes, in his own way, a gifted diplomat. But then one day I abruptly find he has resigned from the Order and has disappeared..."
The diplomat drew a sharp breath in through his dual lips, "To my shame, I did not act on this news as soon as I heard it. I thought that Bomoor's life was his own and Jedi business has always been something to avoid in my line of work. But then I find myself approached by the Vice Chancellor of all people, telling me that dangerous people are pursuing my son and that he wants to help. Well, that simply did not sit right with me and there was suddenly only one person that I knew I had to talk to; one person who shared my little pupa in common."
His companion's eyes widened at the mention of Damask Hul. The orange-skinned sailor had just about acclimatised to his involvement in the local planetary government of Öetrago, and the thought of such larger-than-life figures as the Third Republic's second-highest-ranking official having involvement in his small circle of understanding was quite startling. Hearing about Jedi Knights to boot only made that more daunting, as misty-eyed as he had once been when hearing tales of their exploits.
"Your life has a complexity far beyond my own, Mister Bruta," Yllib-Senob eventually said. "I don't think there's much humble old me could really speak of on such matters. Whilst I may get to meet and greet a fair few worldly sentients passing this way and that, my mind and efforts have always been best suited when devoted to exploring the unseen wonders of this fair world. All I can say is that, if your boy truly is in danger, no matter his age or religious leanings, he's lucky to have a dad so devoted to him."
The Ongree moved slightly closer to Bruta, but then hesitated, seeming to think twice about it. After a short moment, however, he placed a reassuring hand on the Ithorian's arm and smiled once again. "You'll find him, Mister Bruta, and no doubt Matriarch Mozo will feel just the same."
Bruta smiled. He had felt rather isolated on his journey thus far: the political world was so full and loud and yet, when it came to personal bonds, it was hard to build strong attachments. His own assistant, while present in spirit, failed to grasp the deeply personal nature of his trip to the continent. But here, on this calm ocean voyage, he found an unlikely companion who seemed to truly listen and consider his story without prejudice or judgement. Bruta had started to wonder whether such people existed in the galaxy.
“Thank you,” the long-serving diplomat spoke, his echoing words in Galactic Basic were soft and true, like the lapping waves, “You have my trust to get me to her safely.”
He reached out an arm and gave a short, encouraging pat on Yllib’s shoulder, “Come on, let us check on Llim below deck. You can tell us both about some of your own tales on the high seas. If my assistant refuses to feel the ocean breeze, he can at least hear about it!”
TBC
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