"Hey! Thanks, yeah, sure, what did the people have to say while we were gone? Who even has this number?" The chief would have contacted them directly.

Sharra takes off her new warm coat and places it on the back of a chair.

<Czerka Corporation. Ithorian Cooperative,> they beep in response, <Both ask assistance in reconstruction project. Ask to meet.> 

"Czerka?" she makes a face at Atton. "Never heard of the Ithorian Cooperative," she says, as she unhosters her new blaster. "Why would they need our help? That's way above our pay grade."

<Agents at station told them Jedi was here.>

"Ugh, Czerka," he agrees, "They're handling supply and shipping contracts," he explains then, "and the Ithorians are in charge of the actual re-greening effort."

"I suppose having Ithorians be in charge makes sense. They're all about pacifism and nature. Still don't know why they want our help though." She leans against the table. Hmmmm. "They'd have a presence on the planet's surface, wouldn't they?"

"Yeah, they'd have to. Czerka's running security, but the actual agriculturists and the people handling the animals would be working under the Ithorians." 

He sets his bags down on the sofa, sprawling out on the surface next to them.

"You think they could help us hunt down wherever the ship went?"

"Unless your 'mate' Delvin has a better idea."

"He could probably smuggle us down, but, I'll be real, I wouldn't wanna pay the price he'd ask."

She makes her way to the couch, squints at his bags, and then sprawls herself over his lap. Shopping hard.

"I suppose it depends on what exactly they want help with. Mediation? Surely they don't need a untried padawan for that."

"Might be they don't know you're an 'untried padawan'," he snorts, "Lotta people just hear 'Jedi' and assume they're all wise and serene masters." 

"Could never be me." She reaches across and grabs a bag of salt chips. "Where do they want to meet?" she asks Isk, with a mouthful of chips.

<Ithorian Compound, Residential 082,> Isk reports, <High Priest Chodo Habat.>

"High Priest, huh."

She stuffs some chips in his mouth. "What's up with High Priests?"

He monches them, speaking through the chips: "I dunno, just sounds pretentious."

"Wasn't asking you, was I?"

He huffs, taking another handful of chips. 

<Spiritual Leaders. Converse with 'Mother Jungle'. Suspect Force use.>

"Hm. Might as well hear them out and ask about getting down to the surface. It'll be easier to search for our cluster of eight with our toes in the dirt."

"You wanna meet the Czerka people too?" 

Another face! "No. Gross. I just got all the grease off my everything."

He snorts, "Fair enough. Lunch first?" 

"Yeh. Gimme."

"Gonna need to get off me."