[ Cal doesn’t look particularly comfortable in the military-style uniform he was issued, unarmed and disconnected from the Force—he keeps tugging at the hem of his jacket, flexing his hands at his sides like he’s itching to reach for a weapon.

But even the weakened resonance of the Force is less worrying than the fact that BD-1, his constant droid companion for five years now, is nowhere to be found. The people who helped Cal out of the pool had told him that the Summoned don’t arrive with any of their possessions, but BD-1 is not a possession—he’s a friend.

So Cal isn’t giving up quite yet. He pokes around what feels like the entirety of the barracks, almost single-minded in his search, occasionally stopping bystanders to ask: ]

Have you seen an exploration droid around here? He’s a BD unit, about this— [ He holds his hands up, about half a meter high, as demonstration. ] —big.

[ So far, the search is fruitless. Cal ends up at the training grounds instead, watching the sparring and obstacle races with ready eyes, taking silent note of how the soldiers fight. He’s not particularly competitive himself, but he’s fairly susceptible to peer pressure, so it wouldn’t be too difficult to harass him into competing. ]

[ The technology of this world seems to be pretty heavily reliant on magic, unlike what Cal’s used to, but there’s still plenty that carries over. The “laser” tool, for one, that people are using to carve marble sculptures, appears to function almost exactly like his old welding torch, tragically left behind when he was summoned here.

It could also, perhaps, be likened more to a lightsaber, and karabast, does he miss his. Which is why he volunteers to do some etching without doing any etching at all—instead, he’s just sitting there in front of his stone block, turning the laser tool over and over in his hands, trying to resist the urge to take it apart and see exactly how it works. They probably wouldn’t appreciate him breaking open their little prototype, right?

Later on, he moves on to the market, unable to stop himself from jumping in to help when someone shouts for it—it’s those Jedi instincts. This time, however, rather than fending off raiders or finding lost people, his Jedi instincts have him chasing down some kind of long-necked bird creature, one that is surprisingly fast and angry.

Even after he manages to scoop up the bird, it thrashes in his grasp, honking in outrage, and it takes every ounce of Cal’s strength to keep it contained, but not before he—and/or the bird—smacks into a few unlucky bystanders. ]

Sorry about that. Just— [ Honk! ]

[ If there’s anything Cal’s learned after nearly a decade on the run, it’s that cantinas and marketplaces are the best places in the galaxy to catch up on news and gossip, some of which could actually save your life in a pinch.

So he takes his time exploring the marketplace, peeking at all of the shops and stalls, though he doesn’t actually purchase anything, which would require money he doesn’t have. A couple times, he stops to look more closely at particular pieces of jewelry—gold cuff bracelets and rings—a kind of wistfulness writ large on his face as he wonders if Merrin would like them. (Oh, yeah, he’s got it bad.)

But then he moves on. At a food stall, he stops to get a bite to eat, turning down a drink before devouring his food like he hasn’t eaten in literal days. (He has, for the record, but, you know, that poverty mindset is hard to shake.) While he sits and eats, he pays sharp attention to the conversations around him, while also trying to make it look like he’s not eavesdropping at all.

Finally, he slips into the gambling den. While casinos aren’t really Cal’s scene—they’re more of Greez’s thing—desperate times call for desperate measures, and Cal is desperate for money to get out of the outpost, because he’s absolutely not enlisting in the military.

Not that he’s actually doing any gambling in the den. The games here are different from the ones he’s familiar with in his galaxy, let alone the ones he actually knows how to play. So for a long while, he just stands and watches the proceedings, his gaze following the betting, the jostling, the dice throwing, the restless exchange of money. ]

Do you know how to play?

[ i truly love wildcards, so please feel free to throw whatever your heart desires at me! also please let me know if you’d like me to avoid survivor spoilers — i know it’s been a few months, but just in case! ]