Birdplane dons the nondescript Jedi robes he'd been wearing when he first arrived on the planet and clips lightsaber to his belt. If he'd been confused and worried before, he was even more so now - though, at least he had a weapon now to defend himself with when the blasterfire starts to fly.

"I'm sure he did. You seem like the type that'd like a little furry action."

He quickly closes his mouth, which he'd forgotten he'd left open in incredulous incredulation, and follows His Majesty and the two Bothans down the hall to the elevator. When it finally arrives, Darwill makes a stupid comment and Birdplane enters through the sliding doors.

"Beauty before age this time, I guess. What a nice change."

He smirks as Darwill grumpily follows behind him and the original Bothan guard reaches in and presses a button with a strange, illegible squiggle on it that resembled a tattoo on the left cheek of Darwill's mum's buttock.

"Hey, that squiggle looks like the tattoo on the left cheek of your mum's buttock," Bishop says to Darwill, motioning at the button as the door slides shut and the elevator shoots upward at some insane speed.

He realized shortly after that now perhaps wasn't the best time to tell Darwill about this fact, but the Pertunian Varaging Weasel was out of the Conch Shell now, so to speak.

The elevator doors closed, sealing Birdplane to his fate.
"Weird." Darwill replied, "I could've sworn it was your mother who had that tattoo. Are you sure you weren't confused in the dark?"

The elevator hurtled upwards. There was an indicator near the ceiling that showed rapidly ascending numbers, but strangely enough there were only two buttons in the elevator. The one with the squiggly lines and another, red button labelled EMERGENCY

There appeared to be no end to the numbers and Darwill was beginning to wonder if the elevator was moving at all, such was the state of the art inertial dampening technology in this building.
"Don't knock what you haven't tried, by the way." Darwill said, suddenly registering that Birdplane had made a comment about furries. "You don't know what love IS until you've been there."

Nearly three minutes had passed and the elevator indicator showed 403956 and was steadily rising. Darwill was convinced it was meaningless.
"Birdplane. What did you do that got us locked up in that cell?"

Birdplane shrugs. He'd dodged a bullet on that one, so he decided not to push the squiggle tattoo further. Perhaps Darwill was a little freakier than he'd first imagined - thinking not only that his mother was Birdplane's mother, but also that furries were...ANYWAYS!

The Jedi scratches his goatee and thinks back on just how it was they'd gotten into prison again in the first place. He looks up a the floor indicator and the images flood back after a few 100 number changes. Their original escape from the interrogation room, lying low in a three-sphere circus, and, finally, Darwill's 'ingenious' plan to have the most incredible act ever. EVER. The act was good. The best, even. So good that it'd drawn attention to them from none other than their old nemesis, the Minister for Paranormal Galas. The Minister had been attending the circus for his niece's thirteenth birthday and, on seeing the amazing act - just at the part where the Clown jumps through the flaming hoop and the Cowboy, riding his trusty steed, follows thereafter in a daring chase scene - realisation dawned on him. The military was called in and the Jedi apprehended once more.

"I'm pretty sure it was your fault," Birdplane says, relating the story that had just played in his mind to the other Jedi, more than a little irritated.

"My fault?!" Darwill replied loudly.

He listened to Birdplane's recount of events and with absolute certainty he remembered. Yes, there had been a circus. Yes, their act had been the best act ever. /Ever/
"You were too into it my friend," Darwill insisted, "You were the one who had insisted upon flames - despite the insistence of the ringmaster that flames were simply too dangerous in the act that you choreographed! I distinctly remember him talking about the countless meetings that he had to attend on just that subject - everywhere, might I add - but yet you insisted."

It hadn't been the flaming hoop with the daring horse chase that had caught the Minister for Paranormal Galas' attention, though. Darwill had seen it at the time - the faint threads of Force energy that connected all of them together. The charming clown who had chosen the young girl in the audience to perform to. How she had loved it when he had taken her pretty pink ribbon and turned it into a dove - a pink dove - and how she had loved it when the dove had quite comfortably taken to sitting in her lap! Oh, the Force had spoken so loudly then but Darwill had simply missed it - the shatterpoint that would undoubtedly change their immediate futures.

"You have absolutely NO idea how to handle yourself in this sort of situation." Darwill continued, emphasising his commentary with a pointing finger - "You belong in that clown suit."

"Big words for a man who I'd caught the night before the act in his trailer with the HORSE, of all...things!"

The furry comment seemed to be making more and more sense - though, at the time, Darwill had said he needed to 'bond with his steed' so that he could perform the daring flaming-hoop trick the next day. Birdplane did recall the fire being his idea, but how else was the act going to be the best /EVER/, per Darwill's wishes, if there was no FIRE?!

As for the whole ribbon into a dove trick, well, perhaps grinning at the Minister while he squirted him in the face with his water-squirting flower directly thereafter MIGHT have had something to do with their capture...MAYBE. But there was still something more that Darwill had done to gain the Minister's attention.

"Sure, the fire was my idea. But if it hadn't been for what happened AFTER the performance, we surely wouldn't have been found out. Surely it wasn't my fault that you felt like regaling the entire story of our original capture and escape, drunkenly, to the entire after-party. An after-party which, to my knowledge, included not only the Minister's niece and her entire birthday entourage, but also the local district's police Chief and his entire precinct, for whom which that weekend's performance had been dedicated!"

Birdplane was having trouble keeping his voice down, despite his Jedi training; he didn't like being blamed for things, especially when they weren't HIS fault...at least, not completely.

Right as Birdplane began his rant, the turbolift doors slid open, revealing the two Jedi and their tale to Bothawui's entire military council.
"An after-party which, to my knowledge, included not only the Minister's niece and her entire birthday entourage, but also the local district's police Chief and his entire precinct, for whom which that weekend's performance had been dedicated!"

The words echoed around the silent room, matched only by the stunned expression on the Generals, Admirals and the Minister for Paranormal Galas' faces. In an instant the situation had turned, and what Darwill had intended to be a civil conversation had become, potentially, what would be their third stint in prison on this planet. Apparently the guards had the same idea - they reached for their weapons as the Minister for Paranormal Galas spoke into a commlink.
"Reinforcements to the Situation Room, the King has been kidnapped!"

The argument forgotten, Darwill did what Darwill does best - he took charge of the situation.

He stepped out of the elevator with his hands raised.
"Let's not be too hasty." he said, "I apologise for the way this has all turned out but please, let us explain - the King has not been ambushed."

* * *

And so it was that the two Jedi once again found themselves in a prison cell.
"Birdplane, I just want you to know, that if we don't make it out of this alive...." Darwill began - but was interrupted by a group of four men entering the cell.
"Darwill Jinn™ and Bishop Kenobi." - The Minister for Paranormal Galas - "We have spoken with your superiors and have found that the extreme nature of your infiltration here was, much to my irritation, justified."

He held out a datachip for Jinn to take.
"The datachip contains all of the information the Bothan InfoNet has on the man you are investigating."
Darwill took the datachip.
"It irks me to say that you are free to go."
The Minister for Paranormal Galas gestured to the doorway.
"Get out, and don't come back."

As the two Jedi passed the Minister may or may not have whispered something about keeping his sexuality a secret. But maybe not. Darwill was sometimes hard of hearing.

As the two Jedi made their way through the streets of Drev'starn, Birdplane found that he was unsure as to whether he should be walking with a swagger or keeping a constant vigilance. They'd only been sent to the planet to find out about a certain rogue Jedi, but so much had gone so wrong - he wouldn't be surprised if they wound up in prison again.

"We should probably leave here like...nowish," he said a little redundantly to Darwill as the pair made a left hand turn towards the hangars.

"I don't need you doing any other stupid things to get us into trouble."

Darwill goes to speak, but Kenobi raises a hand and interrupts the other Jedi before he can even begin.

"I know, I know....apology accepted. Now then, what's that datachip have on it? I'm oozing with excitement and stuff."

The condescension that spilled from the Jedi's voice was almost enough to drown a fish.

A zillion Jedi platitudes filled the older Jedi's mind as Kenobi spoke. Darwill drowned them out - along with whatever Kenobi was saying. He had no interest in arguing with the man, as his mind was already set on reading the data on the data chip and where he would go from here.
"I'm not sure what's on the chip. It's likely to be encrypted, and given what we know about the Minister for Paranormal Galas and his special relationship with Agru's Chief of Staff it could well be that there is no data on this chip."

It didn't bother him that all of this might have been a pointless endeavour from an information gathering point of view. Their circus act really had been the best ever. He scanned a nearby departures board, looking for a ship that would get him to where he thought he needed to be.
"It's been good working with you Kenobi." he said absently, "I'm sure we'll have the pleasure of working together again."

At that Darwill moved away, slipping into the crowd and vanishing almost instantly as he made his way towards a passenger liner headed for Wild Space.

The Jedi of Dantooine shrugs his shoulders as Darwill disappears into the crowded, furry, Bothan spaceport. He didn't really like the other Jedi all that much - found his methods far too...methodical - but dammit all if he didn't respect him. Without further ado, Birdplane cracks his neck, moving it first left, then rolls his shoulders, and finally cracks his hands as if getting ready to 'borrow' a ship for the good of the Order.

Then Birdplane goes to a nearby ship and convinces the pilot, with a twinge of the Force, that he'll be 'borrowing' his ship for the good of the Order. He boards the sleek shuttle vessel and dons the helmet - he always liked to wear neat helmets - and pulls down the visor and headset to obscure his charming features.

It was all just a coincidence that Darwill Jinn boarded that exact transport a few moments later, ticket in hand so to speak.

::Ladies and Germs, this is your Captain speaking.::

Birdplane said over the intercomm with an accent reminiscent of a southern drawl in a galaxy far far away. He flips a few switches and pushes a number of blinking buttons.

::Today's flight will involve a reading of the epic "Frondleboogies of Trashanan Seven" by Vier Nuumnuum, dictated by yours truly, a lovely brunch snack of some kind...or at least I assume there will be, probably lots of turbulence, definitely some vomiting, diarrhea, nausea, self-esteem, pickle juice, and a film about something called a 'Pig.'::

The ship begins to hiss and the repulsorlifts push the ship off the ground and up into the atmosphere a little too quickly. A few babies begin to cry and a punk-choobies kid makes a smart-choobies remark.

::So buckle up, keep your hands, arms, legs, feet, heads, tails, tentacles, and tongues in the vehicle at all times and please, for the benefit of our wonderful flight crew, try not to puke!::

With that, the ship shoots off into Bothawui's orbit.