When he'd been literally tossed out of the ship flat on his stomach, he hadn't moved for quite some time. That is, until someone rather rudely rolled him out of the way.

Though to be fair, he was sprawled out in a rather inconvenient place. Ships couldn't land with him just lying there. Well, they could, and the ships wouldn't feel a thing at all. But it would be rather inconvenient to be scraping jellied man off their hulls. So admittedly, he shouldn't complain too much. They liked their ships enough to move him at least.

Groaning, he eventually got to his feet, staggering a bit and running a hand down his face. Then a frown and another groan. Stubble. That's right, cramped up in the smuggler's hold in the dark he hadn't really had the time nor space to shave now did he? No light save for that insufferable book that, finally, had run out of power on the eight thousandth repetition on the Rhy'Din entry.

"Right then," he said, rummaging in his rucksack for his most treasured possession in all his little world. His towel. The garish neon pink and lime green cloth was pulled out and draped over his shoulder. If his travels had taught him nothing else, it was to keep that multipurpose cloth on hand and at the ready. He never knew when he might have to raise a flag of surrender or use it to strangle something for dinner. Though now that he got a good look at his surroundings, a proper modern spaceport, Kallen was rather disappointed by what he had found.

From the six weeks worth of listening to his guide on repeat, he had been expecting explosive dragon battles and knights clanking about in bulky armor and swooning ladies at every corner. "Outdated piece of junk." If he could bear to part with the old hunk of junk, now would have been the time he'd throw his guide into the nearest trash bin. Alas, it had stuck by him through thick and thin, and to part with it now would feel so horribly wrong.

"First thing's first....shower, food, and tea." He adjusted the strap of his rucksack and started off to investigate the latest patch of dirt he'd landed on.

So a nice smile and bad puns didn't work out so well. Luckily, he'd found a bag of jewels left over from his time spent on the pirate planet of Zanak. Fortunately he could use a bit of sapphire to pay for his meal at the Star's End Bar. And thanks to some local knowledge, he was just a bit richer than he'd started out.

But the money wouldn't last. Especially now that he wasn't staying by choice, but rather by necessity. After the last world, he needed to keep his head down and lay low. So, the next order of business - a job. Something easy, something that paid just enough to keep him, but wasn't all that remarkable. Something....something....Well then. That looked promising.

He stopped a terminal down the street a little ways, finding it relatively easy to use compared to some of the worlds he'd been to. Very similar to home, really...

He shook the thought off and continued browsing. Adverts for products, places, freighters and tours. Salvage and scrap. Ah...

"Oh that looks promising. Village idiot. Ooo! And Messenger. Those together should pan out just fine I think." He read over the information quickly, copying it down on a scrap of paper from his satchel to see about gaining employment later down the line when his money, and his luck would surely begin to run out.

Until then, he would have to make due with walk-abouts and gaining local knowledge. After all, his only source of information prior to his arrival had been severely outdated, and now no longer switched on. Since he was stuck here, he might as well make the best of it. Turn his time here into a sort of case study.

He'd lost track of how long it had taken him to get everything in order. His memoirs, his travel logs, his adventures. They were still nowhere near completion, but now at least they made some sort of sense. Not much, and only to him. But some sort at any rate.

How long had he been hunched over on his cot, writing and deleting and editing and repeat' He'd stopped long enough to pay his rent, shoving more than the hovel of a room was worth to the man renting it out to him.

Food had become an afterthought. Drink, a necessary evil. He worked, and he worked. And now, he would clean himself up, rest his exhausted mind, and perhaps make a trip out of his dingy and dark hole in the wall tomorrow.