Ausfälle

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Joffa, Cathar
Twelve years ago



Such a wonderful aroma; spice-filled and exotic. It seemed only a fitting final touch to the scene playing out; the great Joffa Marketplace, with its' myriad of vendors and those looking to buy. Cat-like Cathar flooded the area, a common enough thing for such a trading center as this. A southbound trip along the River Tir would bring one to Delta City, but while a veritable bastion of architectural wonder and engineering, it was nothing like Joffa. Even the capital - Kai'arbydos - could not boast to having such a widespread collection of traders and travelers hoping to buy and sell their wares.

And westward lay The Great Dune Sea, stretching out for what would seem to be an eternity. Beyond that though, were the cursed lands, the Vercor Mountains that held the home of the Beast-Gods. A sacred place, no Cathar dared to venture forth and step foot even into the outlying hills that preceded the rocky Vercor crags.

Offworlders were not often seen on Cathar, as the planet was considered harsh even for those used to hard treatment. A few could be seen here and there in the cities, but those were mostly individuals who had come to test their skills among the natives; for if Cathar was a harsh home, than her people were even more so. A rough-edged and superstitious lot, the Cathar had grown into their own as toeing the line between savage barbarism and refined elegance. It created a rather distinctive culture that most could only stand to be around for a few days.

And yet, thus far, the woman that now waded through the sea of bodies had been living there for almost five years. Normally her travels took her to Imram'Lien, the Holy City, but for the last week she'd made the trek along the southern shores, stopping at Delta City before traveling north to Joffa.

She was short, even for a humanoid, let alone a Cathar. Her blonde/brunette hair tied loosely back with a leather thong, she scanned the crowds with a single blue eye. Her other was a stark white, seemingly divided in two by a vertical scar that cut from her forehead to her cheek. It drew enough stares, but she was used to curious looks. A dusty jellaba wrapped around her equally dusty traveling clothes, and her burnoose had been pulled from her head to ring her neck; there was no need to use it now that she was out of the desert. Well-worn boots did little to the already hard packed dirt ground. Too many feet had traveled over its' surface to be affected by much else.

Stopping beneath an awning, the woman stepped up to a vendor selling perfumes and other random trinkets. With little interest, she idly plucked one of the gold bracelets from a stand, careful to not touch those that were silver. She turned it over in her hand, inspecting the craftsmanship and the designs over its' surface. It was a pretty enough bauble, but it ultimately didn't pull at her desire to purchase, and she replaced it once more before turning and heading deeper into the market.

[Clea Darkrunner]

She rested, glad of the sheltering awning. Two months on-planet had toughened a city child, accustomed to Coruscant-Under and the darkness and gloom, to the brilliance of a sun, and the clear, spicy-scented air of the Joffa market.

It had not been hard to break away. The band had just completed a year-long tour that had stretched from the Outer Rim to the Inner Core, sometimes being on two separate planets between one sleep and the next. They were all worn thin. The Wookie complained constantly that he was losing his fur due to stress, with swales of reddish fur in the corners backing him up. Simon had ceased charming the groupies into his bed, and had been muttering about seeing if the Faleen scientists had produced a repellent instead. Even Sim and Chanze had ceased their constant brawls and were content to just silently drink beer together until they slid under the table.

And Clea had lost her voice. The last two shows, she had lip-synched to a recording of herself, unable to project beyond a mouse's shrill squeak. The truth was, she had lost her spirit and inspiration, seeing day-after-day the tightening fist of the Empire that most citizens were happily unaware of, or at least considered confined only to their own planet.

The doctor had told her recording company that her voice must rest for at least three months, and so they had taken a vacation - Sim, Chaz, and Simon to the fleshpots of Zeltros, and Wrrha back home to Kashyyk. Having no particulat destination in mind, she had just bought a random ticket, and had found herself on Cathar.

Now she sat, watching the traffic in the market place. She had landed at Delta City, technical and port city of Cathar, but had quickly grone bored with the city, so similar to a dozen other aspiring planets Red Shift Rising had seen on their tours.

On a whim, she had purchased passage on a caravan going to the city of Joffa, only to find that her Imperial Credits would no longer purchase her anything when she reached the end of the journey. An average Imperial citizen would have been stopped at that point, unable to imagine anything other than the system they grew up with. They would have ended up a slave on the Cathar market, or been rendered down for soup by a hungry person - not necessarily Cathar, for there were starving humans here, too.

Instead, she had turned to her voice. It had returned, miraculously, on this planet where she needed it to survive. She had sang on the corners of the streets, aquiring a small following and exchanging songs with anyone who would teach her a new one. She did not try to return to the starport, being content where she was.

She was singing in the marketplace when she saw the small, dusty Human, a song of the western deserts. As if conjured by the song, she walked by.......Her blonde/brunette hair was tied loosely back with a leather thong. A dusty jellaba wrapped around her equally dusty traveling clothes. Her burnoose had been pulled from her head around her neck, and she had on well-worn boots. She saw the woman pause, looking at a Jewelery display, attracted to the gold worked in smooth, Catharese symbols. Clea had often pored over the display herself, but a street singer did not make enough to claim any of the golden baubles.

Her face, though, was what caused Clea to quickly finish her song and hurry after. Although marred by a whitish scar through one eye, the face had haunted Clea's dreams, even before she had gone to the Jedi Temple seeking answers.

Answers that she had not gotten, arriving on the heels of Vadar's 501st Legion. There were still questions she could not ask, for she now knew of no Jedi. To be a Jedi at this time was to be hunted for the price on your head. To ASK about Jedi was to attract unwanted attention. So Clea, whom a Jedi child she had tried to rescue had called "Kallea", had not asked.

THat rescue had gone bitterly wrong, at the end. Flushed by a storm-burst into Coruscant-Under's drainage system, Clea had lost track of all the Jedi children she was attempting to save. Only the lightsaber she had taken from a dead body on the shores of the Silent Sea still remained to her.

And now, to see that face..........

She hurried after the strolling woman. Reaching her, she tapped her on the shoulder and politely said, "Excuse me? Do you know me?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She had stopped to purchase a kamba from one of the many fruit stands, and was passing a few Cathar chits to the vendor when she felt the tap on her shoulder.

"Excuse me? Do you know me?"

A nod was given to the Cathar before she turned to face the owner of the voice, and s'Il idly pushed a thumb into the skin of the fruit as she began peeling away the rind of her small meal while looking the other woman up and down. Her eye was neutral; neither harsh nor gentle. To see a human on Cathar was certainly not an oddity, but it wasn't a regular occurrence either.

Continuing to peel away at the fruit, the Lupine let bits of the rind fall to the dirt ground. No, she did not know this woman; just because it appeared that two humans had met in the Joffa Market was not indicative of any sort of knowledge of one another. And the look in her blue eye said as much. There was no scorn in her gaze, but there was no recognition, either. As the last portion of rind fell away, she wiped a hand on her dust-worn traveling clothes.

She had no desires to reach out and touch this girl's mind; there was a very faint auburn tinge to the air around her, but s'Il knew better than to act on what she was seeing. No, it was best to forget seeing the Force aura that lightly covered her like a gentle halo.

Pulling away a slice, she popped it in her mouth and turned away to continue on in her ambled wanderings, leaving the other woman with a simple few words.

"No, I do not."

[Quinn]

The soldier had been wandering the area, looking from side to side. His black hair was simple, in the traditional military cut. His eyes blue and vibrant, but his voice was calm, and it sounded as though it had been hurt some time ago. Not in the physical sense, but he had experienced pain fairly recently. His face, though youthful, seemed aged somehow. Like some of the veterans who hung around the mercenary office...

And so he took a seat at a cafe in the market where others often sat during their shopping to relax their feet and get something to drink. It wasn't the extensive deserts that surrounded Cathar's forest-cities, it was still fairly hot to most. To Quinn, it was easy, as most of this heat he had endured while encased in stormtrooper armor. Right now, he was dressed like the locals, although he kept his boots, he changed for some jeans, a button-down rough-spun shirt and a duster that swayed to and fro when he walked. And the last bit was the hat. The brim wasn't as large as some, but it kept the sun off his head. A blaster sat in a holster which was attached to a belt and tied around his leg, sitting right where his hand hung normally.

He'd managed to fine one table where no one sat, even though everyone liked to sit at corners or on the edges, the last one was in the middle of the 'room'. So, putting the strong cup of caf (he thought it was light), he pulled out a datapad, connected some earphones to it, and started listening to some music. The cafe was located in the outskirts of an outback town, not even a city. The streets, not even paved, were dusty and windy, and various speeders and mounts went down them alike, leaving people to walk on the sidewalk. He'd passed a singing woman in the market, left her five credits hard currency, and walked onward in search of a drink. Although now he was wishing he'd invited that woman along. She was very pretty and Quinn hadn't talked to a girl at all during his years in the Imperial Military.

He sighed after a half hour, pulling the earpiece out of his ear, and leaned back, staring up through the tree canopy. He had no idea what to do now that he was out of the Imperial Army. Indeed, he was young for retirement, but instead he had deserted. Seeing as the Imps still collected children at a young age for their stormtroopers, he saw no reason why he had to tell them that he was leaving, as they certainly didn't ask his permission to join. No, to be conscripted.

Quinn smiled wryly. He'd taken all of his armor, but left the helmet back at his barracks, sitting on the pillow. It was the traditional way of telling who had died in their platoon, and so he'd left it there for his squaddies. And the Imperials he was sure wouldn't like the symbolism too well, as he'd also left his rank insignia next to the helmet, along with the tracer that had been installed in the chestplate.

And so, nursing his victory and his caf, Quinn celebrated the fact that he was indeed a free man. But he didn't know what to do now...

[Clea Darkrunner]

Clea felt franticness rise in her. All other leads to her past had been lost, and now this woman, whom she somehow thought she knew, did not know her.

Stressed past reasonableness, she persisted. "You're sure? You see, I was in an accident a few years ago - thumped, dumped and left for dead in Coruscant-Under. I kinda lost my memory of whom I am. And then when I went to ask the people whom I thought could answer me, they had a little......military problem.....of their own. I ended up helping some of their younger people evacuate. Only problem is - I lost them on the way down into Coruscant-Under - we all got swept down a storm drain. So I STILL don't know who I am, except that one of them knew me, and called me "Kallea". She kept insisting I knew......what I didn't remember. Except I sorta know how to use......"

She broke off, realizing she had almost mentioned a Lightsaber, a topic almost as forbidden as Jedi.

After looking at the other woman beseechingly for a few minutes, her self-pride reasserted itself. "I guess you don't really know," she said quietly. "OK. I'm really sorry I bothered you." She turned and trudged off toward the cafe, looking for a strong drink.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The Lupine gave a hrmph as she chewed. The name, 'Kallea', still didn't sound familiar, but she brushed the thought away. From what she'd seen, and from what the girl was going on about, it seemed that she too, like s'Il, had been at the Temple during the Purge. Certainly something to dwell on, yet her self-imposed exile was not something she wished to give up. Not even for another Force user.

However...

Slowing to a stop, s'Il casually turned on her heel to watch the other woman walk off.

"A what," she called out in mild amusement, and there was a hint of a laugh in the next words she spoke, "A lightsabre?"

[Quinn]

Quinn sipped his drink, and decided to grab an unattended newspaper which had been left behind by a patron. He looked down, and saw that the writing was in Cathar. He frowned, but at least looked at the pictures.

His cup of caf was now down to the halfway point as he turned a page.

[Clea Darkrunner]

"A what," she called out in mild amusement, and there was a hint of a laugh in the next words she spoke, "A lightsabre?"

Clea turned. "Yeah...... sorta, somewhat." Her tone was defensive. and she looked around as if worried.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She let the other woman's answer hang in the air, and popped another kamba slice into her mouth.

Standing in the crowd, s'Il felt comfortable enough in the throng of Cathar natives. She breathed in through her nose, the exotic scents mixing together into a work of olfactory art. It was true that she didn't venture forth this far eastward, but when she did, the Lupine was never disappointed. She had been many places during her time just after the Purge, and she found that she rather preferred the raw, untamed aura of the Joffa market. It was untouched by the rest of the galaxy.

It was easy to see the apprehension in the woman's eyes.

Swallowing the fruit slice, s'Il spread an arm to indicate their surroundings, and the jellaba shifted in such a way that afforded a view of a familiar cylindrical shape.

"These people could care less about the comings and goings of Jedi."

[Clea Darkrunner]

"That's easy enough for you to say," said Clea bitterly. "You can probably use a lightsaber. Me, I'm going on half-dead reflexes, and something that apparently marks me to some of those who are hunting Jedi - I've already had to kill a hunter once."

She paused, swallowing new pride and old bitterness alike.

"Could you.....please...teach me? At least enough so that I know how to defend myself? I don't even remember what I apparently SHOULD know, except a few random reflex things about using a lightsaber. Maybe if you teach me, I'll remember. Maybe if you teach me, I can stop being bugged by random bits of useless information about my former life. Maybe then I'll remember who I was. Maybe......."

She shut up, aware that she was close to crying as she had not cried since her first customer at Mama's House.

[Quinn]

Quinn took another sip of his caf as he read some more articles in the "paper".

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She wanted to be taught? The Lupine stared at the woman as if a second head had sprouted from her shoulders, her eye suddenly growing critical in its' gaze.

The rest of her kamba was passed off to a Cathar who'd not exactly been expecting a half-eaten fruit to be dumped in his hands. Wiping the remnants of juice across her robes, s'Il scowled.

"Teach you? Teach you what, how to be the practitioner of a dead and dying order? How to twirl around a fancy little relic and perform parlor tricks?

"Or maybe you wish to learn about the vaunted Jedi diplomacy?"

The bitterness in those last words was tangible, and her eye narrowed. Having been the padawan of two failed masterships, the Lupine was hard-pressed to - in her mind - continue the 'tradition'. After all, you only learned from your teachers. She'd been on Cathar long enough to become set in her ways.

She took a step forward, brushing past the other woman.

"It's not in your eyes."

[Clea Darkrunner]

With reflexes born of Coruscant-Under, Clea's hand shot out. "What the frell d'ya MEAN, my eyes," she growled, yanking the other woman to a stop. Her accent had dropped to that of Coruscant's under-denizens, crude and gutteral.

"M' Friggin eyes SEE well enough, slitch. Or ary y' a frimping coward?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It was a small surprise that the woman impeded her movement, but nothing insurmountable. If she truly wanted to be taught anything, she would have to show it.

One hand grabbing a hold of - what had she called herself, Kallea? - Kallea's wrist, the Lupine twisted it painfully back and down while her other reached for her throat. With unnatural strength, s'Il drove Kallea down to the ground, holding her still.

"You may be able to see," she very nearly snarled, her face angled to the side so that her blind eye was staring into the dark blue of Kallea's own eyes.

A few passerby stopped to watch the altercation, but s'Il ignored them, instead continuing, "... but there's more to it than that.

"You have to want it," she hissed, "...crave it over everything else. It has to be the only thing in your life that you wish to know. You have to temper your desires with patience and peace, and give yourself to it completely."

The Lupine allowed a small silence to hang in the air then, still studying the woman with what, for all intents and purposes, appeared to be a useless eye.

She pushed herself up then, rising to her feet.

"I see desperation; not desire.

"Desperation will eat you alive."

[Clea Darkrunner]

Clea rose up like a rocket, slamming into the other woman and knocking her off her feet. They both tumbled into a ceramic booth, sending plates, bowls and cups flying in a fine spray of shattering pottery. Landing on top, Clea put an arm-bar across the other woman's throat, holding her momentarily pinned

"You say, desperation. Damn Straight it's desperation! I spent Three FRELLING YEARS working as a slitch-for-hire under every nerfing bonzer that fancied my looks, earning my way out of Coruscant-Under the HARD way. And you know what, Lady? It hurts! It hurts like hell! Something in my body has been TRAINED against it, an' I think your damn JEDI are responsible."

She paused, panting with emotion. "Now, godddamit, someone owes me SOME help. I rescued a pack of kids from that damn Temple, all 'cuz I was heading there to ask for some ANSWERS. An' there AIN't no fracking Jedi around to ask anymore - The EMPEROR and his GOONS made sure of it. You're the only chance I've got left, th' only chance to figure out why things...hurt. Why I can sorta-use a fricking USELESS weapon! You wanna know how good the damned thing is against a bunch of blasters or a STUNNER? Ain't Shizzle! Just a damn good way to get killed."

"You can shove your damned lightsaber where the sun don' shine - just give me some ANSWERS!"

Clea felt herself getting more and more angry.....and starting to slide into blankness, like something was rising to the surface.

She stopped, suddenly terrified. She'd blanked, a couple of times before. People ended up dead when she did. And she did not want this woman, this one last forlorn chance of an answer, to die.

The Cathar owner of the stall tapped her on the shoulder, demanding payment for his broken goods. In answer, she uncoiled from the Lupin, launching herself upward in a punch. The Cathar, unprepared for such a ferocious response from the smaller woman, was knocked unconscious.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her face contorting into a mask of intense annoyance, s'Il listened in silence as Kallea raged against her. The other woman was losing herself to her emotions, and the Lupine watched her Force aura swirl madly around her frame, like the flames of a wildfire hungrily looking for something to consume. Through it all, s'Il remained deceptively calm, an unmoving body that belied her true nature and power.

But the assault on the Cathar owner was something that not even she could abide; the native was not a part of this quarrel, and Kallea's action spurred the Jedi into action.

Her leg came up, lashing out with terrible speed to smash across the other woman's face and knock her back. And in the same motion the Lupine used the momentum to get first to her knees, then to her feet. Before Kallea could react, s'Il swept out an arm in a smooth arc, her hand bent perpendicular at the wrist. Dust rose to swirl around the other woman's feet, and with a calculated motion s'Il brought her other arm about.

Kallea was plucked from terra firma then, and aided by the Force, s'Il held her against the wall of one of the nearest stucco dwellings. Kallea's feet missed the ground by no less than a metre.

By now, what had begun as a minor disturbance was quickly escalating into a full blown spectacle for those who'd chosen to come to the market today.

"You will stop this now."

The Lupine held her there, staring at her with a steel gaze.

"I cannot change what happened to you in the past, during the Purge. None of us can.

"But I can tell you this; your emotions are too wild. If anyone is to teach you anything, you have to let go of your desperation. Any answers you're looking for will come with time. I can't give them to you, no one can. I can certainly give you the tools to seek them out, but you need patience. Without patience, you will without a doubt fall to the Dark."

The finality in her tone was a very real, very tangible thing as she finished.

"And then no one will be able to help you."

[Clea Darkrunner]

Listenin, Clea suddenly felt tired. She hung limp, exhausted by her emotions.

Looking down at the Lupin, she whispered, "Teach me, please? I don't want to be frustrated and dangerous any more."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a rather long silence as s'Il looked up at her, studying her. Blinking, she turned away, gently releasing her hold on Kallea so that the other woman was slowly lowered back to the dusty ground.

She was reluctant to take on any sort of student, as previous experiences had not been kind. Only now instead of the student, the Lupine was finding herself in the teacher's position. It unsettled her to a degree, but for now such feelings would have to wait until she was alone.

A handful of chits was given to the unconscious shop-owner's assistant, and s'Il turned to regard Kallea.

"Let's go, then."

Simple words with a simple enough meaning. Perhaps it was just as well; she'd spent enough time in Joffa and wanted to be home. Pausing to wait for Kallea to catch up, s'Il spoke once more.

"You won't be coming back here for a rather long time. Do you have any possessions you wish to bring with you... ?"

[Clea Darkrunner]

"Only my Lute," she said, gesturing to the instrument on her back. "Anything else - the landlord can have. I've got my money and some food, and the clothes I like best on my back and in my bag. Lead the way, and I will follow."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Seemingly satisfied, s'Il gave a hrmph.

With Kallea at her side, the Lupine navigated the twisting streets and narrow alleyways of Joffa's market. For anyone unaccustomed to it, the market tended to be more than a bit overwhelming. Those that preyed on the weak-willed could be found everywhere, and even sometimes those who considered themselves veterans of the market occasionally fell prey to such vagrants.

Whether it was her show of force or not, it seemed that word had traveled quickly through the market. Faster than the two women could walk, even. It was the nature of gossip, after all. Nothing traveled faster. And so it came as no surprise that the crowds before them parted easily to allow unhindered passage through their ranks.

s'Il almost glowered, but kept her pace constant as she approached the stables that were nestled alongside the western gates. The stablehand recognized her, and scurried off to retrieve her pakka. It was a short time later that he returned with the animal in tow; saddled and ready to once more carry the Lupine back across the Great Dune Sea. But, the young Cathar paused as his eyes fell on Kallea. He looked to the Lupine.

Another handful of chits was exchanged, and taking the reigns of her mount, s'Il watched the native vanish once more. When he reemerged with another saddled pakka in his wake, he quickly handed the tether to the other woman before bowing himself out of both women's presence.

s'Il made quick work of rechecking her saddlebags and bedroll; the handler had at least had enough forethought to include the same gear on Kallea's new mount, and without a word the Lupine swung herself up into the saddle.

"It's about a two-week long ride, give or take a few days depending on the weather and how fast we travel."

Lofting a curious brow, s'Il kept her eye on the other woman. "Had I known that I'd be taking someone home with me I would've been sure to bring my ship instead of my pakka.

"You understand, I hope."

[Clea Darkrunner]

Clea eyed the large beast. "I hope I remember how to do this," she said dubiously.She tied the lute and her sack in place, put her foot in the stirrup, shoved down, and promptly landed on her head on the other side. She stood up, using a string of words the Lupin had last heard in a really low dive, and tried again. After four tries, she was covered in dust and less reputable substances, and finally in place.

"Ready to go," she said, looking smug.

[Quinn]

The soldier had finished his caf, and he stood up, headed back for his room at the motel. It wasn't too far, and there weren't too many people on the streets at the moment. It was getting into the hot part of the day.

The credits he had earned while with the Imperial Army had been saved up enough so that he didn't need to worry about money for quite a long time. But he slowly walked in, and made sure no one was following. He had stolen one of the APCs that his squad normally used. But he needed to keep moving, lest he be tracked here. And the commander would not take well to a deserter, much less a deserter who stole valuable pieces of equipment, especially with the knowledge of how to remove their tracking devices.

So, he went to the closet, and pulled out his armor, which he had neatly stacked. He removed his current clothing until he was bare skinned, and pulled on the black body-glove that went underneath the armor itself. Then, he slowly began to apply the armor, the shell of an Imperial Stormtrooper, painted in a choco-chip pattern to blend in with the sand and the rockey crags of Cathar. The utility belt went on next, clicking together with a satisfying sound.

He then pulled on the clothing over it, the loose shirt, the baggy jeans and the duster, which covered the armor quite well, but those close up would be able to tell that he was wearing armor underneath. Not necessarily stormie armor, but armor all the same. Fortunately it was built to deal with the desert, and the APC had an industrial air conditioning unit that kept it's occupants cool.

And so he pulled on his hat, his duffel bag and his rifle, headed for the door and out to the waiting vehicle.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With the slightest of bemused stares, s'Il gently pulled her reigns to the side and the pakka turned, shifting it's front legs before starting forward in a lazy walk. The dun colored mare had been s'Il's mount for long enough that the creature knew they were headed home, and despite the long trip, her gait soon picked up from a lazy saunter to a quick step.

Joffa's westward gate was slowly fading into the distance behind them, and they'd traveled for almost an hour before the Lupine spoke.

We'll follow the Shu'Yon Trading Route to the Outpost, and then make for Imram'Lien. After that we travel to Kyba... "

s'Il paused, wondering if her next words would elicit any sort of reaction from the other woman, "... and then past the obelisks."

[Clea Darkrunner]

Clea paused in the middle of scratching her peeling nose, and nearly lost one of the pakka's reins.

"Are they something to worry about? You mean those tall, stone spire-like things, don't you? Or is it something else."

"I think you don't like to talk much, but what should I call you? Teacher? Master? I don't know your name, really, and I havn't told you mine...." Her speech trailed off under the Lupin's regard.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il pursed her lips in thought; apparently Kallea hadn't been on Cathar long enough to take in the local myths and legends. Just as well. It made coaxing her past the great barrier a far easier task.

She did look sidelong at the other woman though, as her words trailed off.

"Kallea, from what I remember you saying back at the market."

s'Il mulled over her other words though, digesting them before offering any sort of answer.

"I rarely have reason to talk," she ventured in a neutral voice. "And no; please do not call me those words."

She sat easily in her saddle, staring ahead with a half-interested gaze. The noon sun still hung in the sky, and until darkness fell they would be able to maintain their current pace. With one hand on the reigns, s'Il reached up to resituate her burnoose and pull it over her head and across her lower face, shielding her effectively from the sun. A look to Kallea and she gestured to one of the saddlebags on the other woman's mount.

"They will have packed you robes and a covering; I would recommend using it."

Another short pause, and s'Il returned to the matter of her own name.

"I am Loklorien."

[Clea Darkrunner]

Clea made an ungraceful dismount before digging into the bags and putting on the sun-shielding garments.

"Actually, I call myself Clea. Kallea is just what the little Jedi girl I rescued called me. She seemed to think I was faking, not knowing any skills. The more so when I started using a lightsaber to fend blaster bolts. BUt I couldn't do it when I thought about it - got hit twice - not seriously. And I can't use it at all, now."

She looked at Locklorien. "I wish I could remember where I know you from. But if you say it's OK, I'll just let it ride. Maybe it'll come back, sooner or later. And thank you for deciding to teach me.......I'm afraid I wasn't very "mannerly" back there, as people from Coruscant-Upper would say."

She clumsily got back on the pakka, keeping the reins this time.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

In the back of her mind, the Lupine wondered how the other woman would fare on their journey. She would not take her normal route along the southern borders of the Great Dune Sea; no, she would stay mostly along the Greater Shu'Yon Trading Route. It was easier to navigate, and the chance of joining a caravan was high. The Shu'Yon traders always made for good company, and while she normally spent her time in her own thoughts and musings, every once in a while s'Il welcomed their robust and hearty attitudes.

For right now though, she and her new charge were alone in their travelings.

Unused to the company of another woman, s'Il found herself curious of how this arrangement would play itself out. Dan's was a presence that she knew and welcomed; longed for even at times. Her father, Mr. Flux, she thought of often still... and whether or not he would ever search her out.

The Lupine had no drive to leave Cathar, and therefor was content to live out the rest of her days in self-imposed exile.

All of these thoughts wrestled themselves to the forefront of her mind as s'Il watched Clea resume her seat in the saddle. As they started off once more, the Lupine spoke without looking at the other woman.

"What happened in the market was regrettable."

And she left it at that.

Choosing not to acknowledge Clea's words of thanks, s'Il kept her eye trained forward. She was careful to keep her feelings hidden. Why had she taken the woman in? Why had she even agreed to such a thing? The Lupine was a swordmaster, her skills far more attuned to combat rather than the diplomacy that she had learned from her short time as Zem's padawan.

And now she had her own student. Blue eye narrowing, she let her body roll with the pakka's gait.

[Clea Darkrunner]

As the days passed, Clea grew used to the pakka's gait, and learned how to care for the animals. Her own animal was affectionate, asking nothing more than kindness, and an occasional brushing.

The Lupine was a woman of few words, so clea quickly learned. She grew to like the silent ride, watching the ever-changing, quiet landscape.

When they finally joined a Shu'Yon trader caravan, it was a contrast. Noisy and colorful, the Cathars more than made up for the Lupine's silence. They freely teased her, teaching her the language as they did so, and she learned to tease back. A quick learner, she enjoyed the colorful expressions of the language.

But as far as the Cathars were concerned, she couldn't dance. Watching them twist and twirl in the smoke of the evening campfire to the beat of the drums, Clea could only envy them their grace. They seemed almost boneless as they danced, scarves and fringes a-twirl, <i>tsills</i> clattering a ringing counter-rhythm to the drums. She envied them their grace and concentration. Even the youngest Cathars danced better than she.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Having finished the task of unsaddling her mount, s'Il was careful to move her few traveling belongings a short distance from the rest of the encampment. There was no avoidance in her actions; simply, it was her way. The Lupine had fast become a solitary individual, prone to silence for days on end. In fact, the words she'd spoken to Kallea - Clea - had been the most she'd uttered in a week's time.

As the evening's revelries carried on into the night, s'Il made herself content. She sat easily on her bedroll. Surrounded by three other Cathar, the small group conversed quietly. For her the language as a whole, and it's sub-dialects, was simple and straightforward, and it had been easy enough to learn in the months first following her arrival.

During their conversation, the Lupine occasionally glanced toward the fire and its' surrounding occupants.

It seemed Clea was taking rather well to the locals, and they to her. She seemed to happily participate in the nightly activities, and s'Il allow a ghost of a smile to cross her lips; perhaps teaching the other woman would not be such a bad thing.

One of the Cathar in her small group nudged her then, and she returned her attentions to the discussion at hand.

[Quinn]

Watching the dancing through his scope, Sylvanas could see that these people were just enjoying themselves at the moment. Travel was not needed, and so they could enjoy themselves. The cathar had their dance, the twisty, sinewy way that made them seem more made of water than anything else. The blonde girl watching them also tried to dance, but hers was more... suggestive than the cathar way.

But the aliens didn't seem to mind as they taught her their ways. This group wasn't too dangerous. No, it was the other one, the other female that seemed to be the solitary person. She seemed to be a suspicious person, and that could get him into a whole heap of trouble.

Not that he went looking for it, but he kept out of sight mostly because Imperials were not well liked here. He was only following them through the desert to get across the desert, but the fact that he wore sandtrooper armor and had an Imp APC would not help matters. He wasn't an Imperial, not any more. But after all, it was all about appearances.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

One week later


The rest of their ride had been uneventful, s'Il keeping them on the main trading route for most of the trip. They'd passed the cutoff that would lead to Imram-Lien - the Holy City - and continued northwards towards Kyba. They skirted the edges of the Great Dune Sea. And all throughout the trek the Lupine said no more than a few words; most were cautionary words if they had the unfortunate luck of being caught in a sandstorm. It wasn't uncommon for an entire day to pass without an utterance.

They were drawing near to Kyba as the sun was beginning to set, and it wasn't until the city's massive walls came into view that s'Il pulled up her mount. Clea followed suit, and the Lupine removed the burnoose from her face. Looking at the city in the distance, she blinked before turning to the other woman.

"Be careful in this city. It is not like Joffa. It may seem so on the surface, but remember to stay on your guard. We are only stopping for the night."