Descending lower, the last rays of light escaped as the Submarine disappeared from sight. It had been almost half a millennia since sentient life had braved the depths of the ocean floor. Not since the time of Revan and the Exile had the Selkath people allowed off wordlers such freedom upon their ancient origins. Albeit, this occasion was under special permission by the highest of Manaans Diplomats. If it wasn’t for the persuasive nature of Master Sha’nar’a it would have perhaps been another half millennia before the pressures of the deepest reaches of the Manaan ocean were felt. It wasn’t just for the protection of the Selkath’s healing resource, Kolto but for the protection of those who would seek to descend.
In the past 50 years Manaan had seen a rapid increase in the population of Firaxan Sharks, levels unseen since the fabled tales of the great Progenitor. A giant shark rumored to be the ancestor of all Selkath life, traversing the lowest parts of the Rift. Perhaps just rumors and fear mongering, yet the Selkath people had become strangely responsive to any talk of travel below.
The Submarine began to slow, reaching its final destination as Jedi Consular Lu’thris looked up from her long downwards gaze. Small beams of light began to shine through the spherical window of the submarine, illuminating her tired and slightly pale face. Despite appearances she was holding up remarkably well, her long meditative state having provided the necessary energy for her path ahead.