<div class="floatleft">(http://i180.photobucket.com/albums/x94/Shadowphile/Purple%20andBlack_zpsucqavhib.jpg)</div><br/><strong>Name:</strong>Cinjin Race<br/><strong>Location:</strong>On the GRound<br/><strong>Role:</strong><no longer terrfied> Jedi Padawan<br/><br/>"Having so many of us show up at once is going to be a little obvious,"  Cinjin said, glad to finally be on solid ground.  "And with two Miraluka, playing the blind card likely won't work to well."  He patted the med kit that he'd packed.  "I might just try looking for a job as a medic.  Even without using the Force, I'm pretty handy with this thing."<br/><br/>He rose, stretched and headed for the lander's exit ramp.  Although he tried to do so calmly and quietly, he was fairly certain that he'd quite obviously rushed out.  He took a deep breath, savouring the fresh air.  No one would be able to convince him that the recycled air on a starship did not smell and almost taste canned.  He looked at the small group of Jedi trainees.  How many different worlds had they seen between them?  How many would they see before their lives were over?  How many of them would breath their last on this planet?  It was a sobering thought.  He'd already lost one set of companions.  He didn't want to lose any more.<br/><br/>"Is anyone really good at Pazaak?" he asked.  "I mean, good enough to lose without making it look like you're trying to lose?  Buy a stranger a drink and he'll wonder why.  Lose a little money to a stranger and he knows you're a good sport and maybe an easy mark and he'll be a little more open with you."