A disembodied voice repeats that.

Tomas wants to go north so his communication isn't limited to swearing, but he stays quiet about it.

North sounds like the better bet to Rafiik, too; it gets them out of the Lei sooner and if he turns out not to want to get involved in the war he'll be better positioned to do that. "Explain equartiers?"

"A species that runs very fast, especially in long straight lines. We'll need one to carry each of us, unless you can somehow make yourself small or easy to carry. They're also good at smashing buildings. We'll probably stop so the equartiers who have been running can rest and new ones start carrying us."

"I can stay on things a nonJedi couldn't be on safely, but I wouldn't want to do it for fifteen hours. I want my clothes back, too, and a bag to carry them and the papers in. Tomas, do you know of any reason not to go north?"

The capital is probably south, like the furball of evil just said, dummy. "No, sir."

A catfolk butler scrambles out of the nearest hole carrying a large piece of stiff leather with ornate writing in multiple glittery colors.

Another one will come in a few minutes with a bag and Rafiik's clothes.

Presumably (or, well, hopefully) if Tomas had any objections to going north he would have taken the opportunity to voice them, and that's what Rafiik was trying to get at in the absence of the word 'objection'.

He's not thrilled about being carried, the idea of his route being under Lei control doesn't appeal. On reflection he'd give pretty good odds of the whole trip being below ground, though, in which case it hardly matters, if something seems wrong he'll need to abandon his ride and get topside to walk either way. "Are there places for sleds to go up here?"

"There are sleds on the surface, but not here."

The disembodied voice speaks again. "Please wait one moment..."

(A kitsune relays the query to a lesser shrine focused on logistics and brings back the answer...)

"If you want to stay above the surface, there are two main routes: darkward by ship, then north along the Alhekte cargo sled, through the Pes orogeny, and then the Sient Road cargo sled, which will take 59 hours; or, brightward by ship and then north by the Great Sled, which will take 48 hours. If you want to be on the surface entirely, not below or above, the durations of the two routes will be 103 hours and 168 hours, respectively, or approximately 3½ cycles and 6 cycles, assuming a typical walking speed and rest time."

The idea is to be able to see that they aren't bringing him somewhere they shouldn't be, and with a complicated route he can't check that by watching the horizon. He'll have to see if he can get ahold of a map at some point, so he doesn't have this problem again as easily, but he doesn't trust them not to give him a doctored one. He is really starting to regret not going back to Tython, as unclear as it is that that would have saved him from this mess. "The equartiers are fine. Tomas, Mirana, do you need anything for the trip?"

"I'm ready."

"No, sir."

"All right. Where do we go for the equartiers?"

Down a hole, along the hallway, past an opportunity to use a chamberpot (recommended), into an elevator which clunks and whooshes its way down seven storeys, and here are three cheerful equartiers. They look fairly human except for their wide nostrils, manes, and hooves the size of their thighs. They're wearing the typical Lei uniform; their sashes have small bags at the shoulder.

Would the distinguished passengers prefer bridal carry, piggy-back, or sack-of-potatoes-over-the-shoulder?

"If there's a problem, pull on my mane. Hard. Don't worry about hurting me. And remember, I won't be able to see or hear you when we're going fast, and it takes time to slow down. Don't try to jump off before I put you down."

The journey starts with a few minutes of jogging through hallways like those above, just more cramped and sporadically lit. Then, one by one, several minutes apart, they go down a ramp into utter darkness and pick up the pace. 

clomp clomp clomp CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP CLOMP

Rafiik keeps close track of his heading through the journey, to make sure they're headed north. He'll take piggyback and warns his equartier that he might, in fact, jump; it's safe for him to do so. (Or at least if it isn't he'll recognize that before making the mistake.)

They are indeed heading north. 

Each minute or so, the equartier grabs a small object from the side and puts it into the sash bag, and sometimes adjusts the pace afterwards. 

After about six hours, they slow down and emerge into a lit area. A butler offers them refreshments and shows them a view of a landscape below them. The ground is in shadow; a line of towers cuts across, their tops lit by the sun in sharp contrast to the ground.

(Mirana and Tomas are quiet, other than a brief conversation between Mirana and the local butler. Tomas stares out the window the whole time he eats.)

Rafiik is glad for the opportunity to stretch his legs, moreso than hungry, though he'll take a light meal and eat it while pacing. He's spent most of the last six hours in meditation after planning his approach at the border; he's not sure whether he's going to want Mirana or Tomas to do the initial translation, but it shouldn't matter much, so he'll wait and gauge their mood when he gets there and leave them to their own thoughts for now.

When everyone is ready to continue, a new trio of equartiers lead them to an elevator that goes a long way down, and start rushing through the darkness again.

An hour in, they pass below some people who are distressed and angry. A moment later, that's all far behind them.

That's pretty unpleasant, especially while meditating. He doesn't get enough of a look to pick up any details, but his impression in the Force is that it's not an especially urgent problem; he won't disrupt the equartier over it.

Five more hours to the next rest stop. Not much to see there. 

A third set of equartiers take them the last three hours.

Then, up an elevator and into a room filled with bunk beds, mostly empty. More food? Sleep? "We don't ring the shifts here, but if you care, the local time is 14 hours. Food is available 30/30. The border is two klicks north."

It's definitely getting to be evening according to Rafiik's sense of time, and it's a good idea to be fresh for the border crossing attempt. "Do either of you have any objections to getting some sleep before we continue?" he asks Mirana and Tomas.

They both look like they're ready to drop but are trying to hide it, and do not object to sleep.

Time for bed, then. Rafiik usually takes his lightsaber off to sleep, the holster belt is bulky and uncomfortable, but for tonight it seems wiser to keep it. He takes the closest bunk to the door that he can get.

Mirana picks a bed twenty feet away. Tomas goes to the opposite wall.