[ Cal wakes up with a gasp, lucky enough to have woken up on the deck, judging by how bright it is. No, scratch that. He's not on the deck. He's in the crow's nest, and the deck is way beneath him, and the wave of vertigo that hits him is so foreign he almost passes out before reaching back and holding tight to the mast.

Oh, this is bad. Very bad. Everything feels wrong and nothing makes sense and he looks about as green as the Kasshyyyk skyline. He closes his eyes and tries his best to breathe. Relax. Focus. There is only the Force.

There sure isn't! Cal can't feel a single tug or ebb or midichlorian in the air around him, and his own body feels wrong just breathing in air without the distant pull of that ever-present power. Is this what Bode feels all the time? Where is he? Where's BD-1? ]

Deep breaths. Focus... [ He'll have time to panic later. This is where he would close his eyes and release his emotions, his fears, to the Force. But there's no Force! With a desperate chuckle, he releases the mast and looms over the edge. ] It's just a... totally lethal drop to get down from here. It's fine.

[ Oh, it's so not fine. But at least this ship doesn't look Imperial... or space-faring, for that matter. ]

Hello? Anyone down there?

[ Yeah, okay. The fact that he needed another tattoo to get his Force-sensitivity back was really bizarre, but Cal isn't going to look the bantha in the mouth. Usually when you land on a strange unknown planet, you have to play by the rules. He's just glad he'd shown up with his lightsaber intact. Clothes are easy enough to replace, but he really doubts he'll find a replacement for his kyber crystal here if anything were to happen.

It's weird being on a planet he doesn't recognize, especially without BD, but surviving is something he's good at. He just has to make himself comfortable with the locals until someone to finds him. Friend or foe -- he's stranded in the meantime. Which is why he humors the drunk at the bar and ends up wandering outside in the dark, a treasure map in hand. He's a sucker for treasure, what can you do? ]

You sure this is the right way?

[ He turns back around, and wouldn't you know it, the loud drunk has gone on ahead without him. That's what he gets for trying to squint at a map using only moonlight. ]

Hey, wait up! Hey!

[ Cal had planned on helping out. Should be an easy job, they said! Harvesting slugs for medicine wasn't exactly glamorous, but it wasn't the worst thing he'd ever done either.

That was before he actually saw the slugs, though. Now he's holding up his lightsaber, his blade buzzing low and glowing magenta, as he stares into one of these things' beady little eyes. They're almost... cute. ]

Skoova would kill me. I can't do this.

[ He sheathes his 'saber, clips it back onto his belt, and holds out an open hand. He waves at it, just a little, just enough to tug on the Force and try to connect with the creature. ]

Hey, buddy. I've got a jar right here. You think you can just give me some slime?