Craeth Spaceport

This is one of the most famous ports in the entire world. Creatures from all across the galaxy come to this world to move through this port. It is the largest port out of the world's seven other ports. Much diversity and personality is found within thses walls. It is the size of a city on it's own, and even larger with the giant ships that dock in it's bays. It also has at least five floors of suites for those who are staying th night while they wait for their ship to arrive or for those who have no home to go to yet.

But of course, the port has it's bloody drawbacks. On the upper levels of the suite section, it has become a home to every form of filth and vile criminal to the galaxy. Only the brave, foolish, or evil venture to those regions. They don't go out much during the day because of the constant arrival of Tirochs hard working imperial navy soldiers and royal marines that are always landing and making their way to their families. All in all, it is a wonderful and dangerous experience.

Sheth found himself in front of a kiosk, renting a room for two nights. He remembered all the years he spent on this planet, which he called home. He remembered when he fought the demons who were searching for their evil blade, and how they destroyed the blade. The losses they shared were astranomical, but it didn't bother him. The good memories were more dominate.

But now he came back, having completed the tasks that were set before him from his own race. He had foreseen his returning to the planet of his birth, when the first of the elves crept forth. Sheth had lived a long life, but he knew it was far from over.

"I request a room for myself," Sheth said to the kiosk manager. The manager nodded quickly and abruptly to the machine before him. He knew the machine would assign him a room on one of the top floors, so he had to personnaly request a room.

"Sir, I request assistance for a personal room on the bottom most floor," he said a little more harshly. The man came over and gave him as he requested. He smiled in return and read the number on his card key.

"N three four two..." he said as he looked above to the rooms to find his number before he made his ascention. Just as he requested, it was on the bootom floor.

A soft mechanical whirring came from the pack slung over the elf's shoulder, almost inaudible over the hustle and bustle of the spaceport. Within, the tiny, curled form of a small 'bot began to stir from his nest of clothes. A couple arthritic creaks, pops, and groaning gears later, and REG-117 (PRO) was beginning to resemble being awake. If he had had a mouth, a wide yawn would have spread his jaws, but as it was, the little 'bot settled for stretching the joints of his handlike forepaws.

Thud. He was on the move, apparently. REG-117 (PRO) would have blinked in suprise, had he eyelids or particularly cared. Instead, he turned his LED-bright blue eyes to what his sensors suggested would be up, pinned his long ears back against the golden carapace of his head and forged his way up through the layers of rumpled clothing.

Butting his well-worn head against the top of the pack, REG-117 (PRO) forced a way through the zippered top to look around with a lazy curiosity. Thud the pack bounced again and a puff of air escaped the 'bot's scent sensors, bringing with it a cloud of dust motes that winked for a moment in the lamplight of his eyes and settled on the pack.

Whirr, click, click, REG-117 (PRO)'s head swivelled around to examine the person he was apparently riding on. He cocked his head curiously and clanked again thoughtfully. Who was this? he wondered halfheartedly. Doesn't matter, his logic sensors replied pragmatically. We're back home.

Still, REG-117 (PRO) reached out to the elf's tunic, grasping it with his tiny hands and pulling himself out of the bag. At least then the jarring bounces would stop. After a moment of hanging ungracefully onto the man's back, the little 'bot scrambled to a better perch on his shoulder, whirring and groaning the whole way. REG-117 (PRO) hadn't really moved much in a rather long while, in more than a few peoples' pespective. The little 'bot could see it in the matinence warnings flashing through his electronic brain. Dear. Get that fixed.

Sheth looked over his shoulder at his companion he met on his homeworld. He had all the time to learn his intricute little language and was able to understand him perfectly. He adopted the little bot as one of his own and wouldn't dream of parting with him, as the bot stayed with him all throughout their journeys. He smiled at Klank as he looked back at him.

"How was your sleep, my little friend? Rechargable, I hope," he said, making sure his systems functioned as they were required to.

Sheth looked up as they reached the floor where their room was. He walked with Klank perched on his shoulder like a watchful bird, protecting it's nest from any attacker. He stopped before his door and looked at the card key. It had been such a long time since he had been here and he had forgotten that things weren't as advanced as his own race.

The little 'bot made a chirrupping, clicking noise as the elevator opened, probably the nearest thing to anticipation one could hope to expect from the slothful creature. Will there be food?

Despite his myriad of functions and suprising adaptability, there was little to no way of recharging, or feeding, as it were, REG-117 (PRO) without an outlet akin to what the 'bot had been created for. With technology on other worlds based in other, stranger mechanisms than the homeworld's electricity, it had been rough on the robot, forcing him deep into sleep mode in order to conserve what little energy there was to be gleaned from ill-fitting adaptors. As a matter of fact, little lights and whistles were even now warning him of badly depleted energy stores, but with the hope of a "meal" nearby, Klank refused to shut down.

Please hurry... Klank rumbled languidly as his companion seemed to pause at the entrance. Klank could feel himself grow slowly more sluggish as his power source bleeped angry warnings at him insistently. Soon, he would be shut nearly completely down. With the familiarity of the Borders so close, Klank shifted impatiently; it was high time he got back to his rightful place.

"Ah yes, my friend. Here we are," Sheth said as the door slid open, "Go find yourself an outlet. I again apologize for the lack of power sources on my homeworld. If you ever wanted, I can build a feature to install in you that would allow you to absorb power from thirty different worlds?"

Sheth walked in and set his bags down, removing a holographic pad from one of them. It whirred and lit up. A list of options emerged from the screen and hovered over it, waiting for Sheth to poke at one. Sheth began to feel his stomach grumble. He needed food. He selected an icon that resembled a sword and began playing with the different symbols and letters of his homeworld, dragging certain symbols there, setting others here, and so on and so forth.

"Computer," he called outloud to the building wide computer system.

"Yes, master patron?" came the robotic reply from some unknown source in the room.

"Get me room service with food options."

"Aye, master. Right away."

Sheth finished with his symbol puzzle and set it down, laying down on the bed provided and reviewing the events of today. He was almost as glad to get off the planet as he was to get on.

REG-117 (PRO) was a creature of habit, if not much else. Though his chosen companion could, indeed have given him any number of ways to absorb the energy of a thousand planets, the little 'bot preferred his own planet's energy.

Humming softly as if imitating a purr, Klank pulled the socket from his left hind paw and hooked into an old outlet staring, suprised, from the wall. He settled down and curled up like a cat in the sun, murmuring softly. He started sliding towards a power-saving mode, efficently cutting off all non-vital systems to let the energy work to its greatest effect.

(I swear, I've put in at least three variations of this at different times over the whole break and it hasn't gone through until I came back to school. =___=;; )

The little 'bot whirred back to life, his tiny gears groaning a bit, not unlike an old man after a long, restless nap. He stretched, popping his joints and wiggling each of his fingers individually. He unplugged himself from the outlet and peered over to the bed curiously. Asleep again? The man certainly didn't seem to do much else.

Motive for awakening? REG-117 (PRO) winked his eyes on and off fitfully for a moment, lazily flicking through the security camera memory he had stored while he was asleep. Nothing. Oh, well. The robot settled back, his red eyes half-dimmed as he settled down into an almost doglike pose of relaxation, resting his head on his intricate forepaws when something pinged.

Had Klank been at all inclined to be suprised, he might have jumped. As it was, the 'bot simply cocked his head to the side and perked his ears a bit more, swivelling them around to try to pinpoint the noise. Ping! the sound wasn't coming from outside the bot, but from within. REG-117 (PRO) ran a quick matinence check and found nothing wrong, save that he had gained an illogical sense of unsteadiness.

It was what the little 'bot identified as the Borders; something there was out of place. There was rampant tampering going on and REG-117 (PRO) was far from pleased with it. Without even bothering to wake his sleeping companion, the 'bot stood on its haunches, opened the door, and promptly left.

I must find an access point, he whirred to himself, I must fulfill my purpose. He trundled down hallways and through concourses, under feet and by ankles until he got outside. A high point. I need to reach a high point. Glancing around carelessly, REG-117 (PRO)'s glowing eyes lighted upon a tall spire sticking above the surrounding buildings. That'll do.