Flaming June

[Ilias Nytrau]

Seeing as he was as-yet unoccupied with the trials and tribulations of having students or even just one student that he was responsible for, Ilias spent a great deal of time in states of physical exertion, the favoured of these in combat movements, going over the ranges of stances, attacks and defenses from unarmed combat first. Since boarding this vessel and joining the Wheel, it was all he had done when not serving time as a healer in the medical bay on the Valiant, meditating or going about most normal day to day things as eating or the small sections of sleep that were all the sleep he needed or was capable of since some forty years previous. Though, he had found himself needing a little more rest since starting up some semblance of his physical routines that he used to keep until a little over twenty years before. He never needed this much sleep when it was a regular thing, but perhaps it was just a matter of the fact that he needed to recondition his body to the somewhat strict routines he had maintained in keeping sharp his skills.<o></o>
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Today was the first day that he began armed practices. Though there were many other types of melee weapons he could have used, there was only one that he saw fit to use, one so deeply familiar that it was an extension of his own self. Two, if the fact was counted that he did not keep only one lightsaber. After about an hour of practices, going through motions, attacks and defenses as if running down a list, the master healer and warrior took pause for water and to relieve himself of his upper-body wear, which bared the fine form of his athletic build for nothing and no-one save the dim light of the transformed cargo bay. It was at the point now where he was getting far too warm and the speed of his movements would have a good effect of cooling him as he went up against an opponent of invisible construct, a well enough substitute for a live one, when one was lacking. Given that it happened to be the dead of night, as per the chronometer, there really was not any one else that would want to take him up on the challenge.<o></o>
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Sufficiently rested from a break of five minutes and prepared for the next set, Ilias Nytrau retrieved his two lightsabres from where he had laid them to rest only minutes before and stepped back into the confines of the makeshift dojo, staring at the blank space ahead of him as he selected the face and form of his opponent to be, constructing the imaginary figure from the ground of his feet up to the smirk of his face that he so fondly remembered. With nothing but himself, the empty cargo bay and the imaginary form of one Mandan Hidatsa, the black and white blades of his paired lightsabers were flicked to life and he took to stance, seeing his old friend in his mind take his own and so, from there, it went with the bulkheads his only witness to the fever-paced spar that would look so one-sided to an observer.

[Kala'ndryl Ryj]

It wasn't that she didn't know she'd be stuck traveling with the fleet, spending more time in hyperspace and regular space than she wanted to.

It had been some few weeks since she'd arrived, settling into what had to be the tiniest bunk space she'd ever seen anywhere. Kala didn't mind, though, finding it nice enough to have a space to call her own after spending so long drifting.

She still was, in so many ways, but there existed a tiny flicker in the depths of her soul that recognized the feeling of 'home' amidst the other Jedi. A warm, welcome sensation she'd not felt since her father had died, cut down in his prime only three years prior. As welcome as she felt, however, there was discomfort to be found still.

No Master had chosen her for training.

Rather, as Kala had been told, the Force had not yet guided her path to the proper being. She bowed her head and murmured thanks every time she asked and was sent away with the same answer day after day. Today had been the first day she hadn't asked, and had, for the most part, avoided her fellow Jedi. Instead, she'd spoken to a lovely young woman at the Infirmary who had said she'd be more than welcome to assist, beginning in the morning.

While not extensive by any means, she did have enough knowledge of first aid and other rudimentary skills to be of some use - handling perhaps the normal cuts and bruises to leave the skilled Physicians and Healers free to concentrate on the more needful patients. Until such a time as she'd received training enough in her abilities to join them as a Healer herself.

For now, however, her time was her own. Kala just didn't know what to do with it.

Unable to sleep since she still wasn't accustomed being aboard a ship instead of a bedroll on solid earth or comfortably settled in the depths of a lake or ocean, she wandered.

Up and down the halls, learning the layout of the Whaladon quickly, while trying to remember everyone she met along the way. So many of them were politely curious about the marks along her neck, the strange silver streaks in her hair, and the pale tint to her slender fingertips that she explained willingly each time.

Tonight was a level of smaller cargo bays and mechanical rooms. If doors were open, she'd pause and peer inside, wondering who she'd find awake at this gods-be-damned hour of the night. Kala heard the familiar snap-hiss of a blade - no, two blades - igniting. She found it odd that after several moments she'd not yet heard the telltale sounds of clashing blades, and her curiosity got the better of her.

The soft soles of her athletic shoes whispered along the floor as she moved, pausing to take a deep breath before nudging the door further open and peering inside. Slender fingers absently smoothed out the softly fitted lavender t-shirt and shorts out of reflex, before resting on the two hilts clipped together over her left hip. Lilac eyes went wide as her breath left her in a soft exhalation, torn between watching the Jedi and watching the near-blur that his black and white blades had become. He turned just so in his movements, enough to give her a profile view of his handsome face - enough to recognize him as the man who's presence had pulled her out of the shadows at the meeting several days before.

She stood, silently watching every motion, following every shift of taut muscle beneath smooth skin, having abandoned watching the blades in favor of watching him. The young woman caught her lower lip between her teeth and completely forgot to breathe in the span of a few moments.

[Ilias Nytrau]

'You have an audience, Ilias.'

We always do, my friend.

'No. You do.... Hey!'

It is what you get for becoming distracted.

'I'm not real. What does it matter? And I believe you are the one that's distracted.'

Even imagined, Mandan was right, especially so on matters of his being distracted. He lost the image of his friend, then, stumbling back from one turning, flowing movement of arcing blades and deftly stepping feet, managing just barely to regain his composure and balance and switch both blades off to prevent unnecessary lightsabre-induced injuries to things both organic and otherwise from occurring. Slightly hunched, he breathed deep, in and out, eyes briefly clenched shut as his senses cleared. Were it a real opponent, his attention would not have been so singularly focused. Sparring with so accurately imagined a partner did take that extra mote of focus that was otherwise devoted to keeping lookout over the surrounding area outside a conflict. And of things he would not so freely admit to himself, he was a little out of practice. Not too rusty, but just enough that it mattered.

When his breathing slowed and the blood relented from its thundering through his head, the Knight's eyes slid open with a pace as slow as a drawing, taunting threat. His head followed, tilting up to straightness until the blue of his eyes rested on what appeared to be a spectator. He stared for moments, several moments, with eyes that did not stare so much as assess, at the young woman with the drawn-in lip. Moments, mere moments it took before she became vaguely familiar to him. An image, nothing more, with no name to put to it.

He did not move from where he stood, hilts gripped loosely in his large, warm hands, unlit, no longer buzzing with the thrum of activity that such a tool possessed while in operation. After a full two minutes of neither party uttering a word, Ilias turned away and moved to one side of the makeshift dojo to crouch and drop the hilts in the small pile made of the accoutrements of his upper body. There he remained, on his haunches, until an inkling of the Force informed him his observer was still present. He had not planned on entertaining guests or having enlightening discourse. That was usually the expectation this late at night, these days: silence, save for himself and the musings of the vessel itself.

"I have not had a spectator in quite some years. Nor was I expecting one." His head turned slowly, eyes of seemingly luminous blue looking sidelong at the young, silent blonde, appraising her where she stood and remaining blessedly oblivious to the look on her face and what it was supposed to entail. Or, perhaps, choosing not to acknowledge it. "You should be a-bed, should you not?"

[Kala'ndryl Ryj]

Well...that was eloquent.

Rin! Get the fuck back in your box....right now, you...him...oh, bad.

Kala, it hit bad ages ago. You haven't so much as said a peep and he's been staring right at you for two minutes.

But...I don't even...know...-wow-...

That's my eloquent little sis. And yes, he is rather wow, isn't he. And a Jedi. Oh hey! Maybe *he* can train you, or better yet-

RIN! I'm not asking. Besides...I'm not supposed to, remember?

Right... never mind. Just...stand there and keep staring so we can both ogle him.

As he crouched with his back turned, Kala finally remembered that she was supposed to breathe. She did so, softly as she could drawing in a deep breath and trying to calm her oddly racing heart. It...was a strange sensation, when the rest of her was so calm and her mind at a near stand-still.

She took a moment to close her eyes, though she did so reluctantly, and pressed her head to the cool metal door she held lightly. Merciful gods, Rin had fallen silent in her mind and receded to the depths he normally dwelled in. A faint sigh passed her lips as she tried to gather her widely scattered thoughts and glanced back towards him.

"I'm sorry...I didn't mean to disturb you. I didn't expect anyone to actually be awake at this hour...and...I guess I should be asleep, but I can't. Sleep, that is. Never been on a ship this size before, never mind on a ship at all for this long. 'M used to sleeping underwater whenever I can. Haven't been in the water at all in a couple of weeks. Which is more than a little distressing...its...oh, I'm rambling. I'm sorry."

Kala grinned sheepishly and shrugged, taking a half-step back.

"I'll just...go."

[Ilias Nytrau]

He listened, personal silence, show of patience, as she rambled and stumbled, through and over words, trying in vain to explain herself. Fewer words would have been enough. Though the case was that he had not expected company, that she should have been in deep rest, the simple fact was that she was not. He could appreciate the company, regardless of whatever form in which it came into his presence. Also, refreshing, for her youth and his complete unfamiliarity with anything about her, save for what she was.

"That will not be necessary." He spoke as she stepped back. "It is no business of mine to keep you out of the dojo, if you wish to be here. It may help you achieve rest, if you put in a measure of work, here."

He looked back to where his belongings sat and retrieved a small screw-top canister, unscrewing the top to quench the thirst brought on by the intensity of his activity. Sated, he replaced the cap and returned the canister to where he had been keeping it and stood, bending slightly to rub his hands down the front of his workout trousers. Then, that done, he turned fully to the girl, crossed his arms and just looked at her.

"Well? 'Stick around', as they say. The company will not go unappreciated, Miss....?" A warm smile broke out. "I am afraid I am not in possession of your name, child."

The smile turned wry, as realization dawned on him.

"And how remiss have I been?" The Jedi Knight uncrossed his arms from his bare chest and crossed the dojo mats to close the distance, so that he might offer a hand in greeting. "My name is Ilias Nytrau, Jedi Knight, Master Healer and Warrior."

[Kala'ndryl Ryj]

Sweetie, you sound like an idiot. And you sound like you're thirteen again.

But...he's...yummy.

What?! Since when the hell does that get you so flus- ohhh. Your Force-sense has never done -that- before.

Yes it has. Four days ago, at that meeting. When I first saw him. And YOU are making it worse.

Again the wisp of his energy retreated, leaving her with the beginnings of a headache. She did, however, manage to find a smile as the man spoke, words beckoning her forward. Her lithe frame slipped around the door to stand inside, hands clasped behind her back, fingers twined together.

"Thank you...and my name is Kala'ndryl. But you can call me Kala. Everyone does around here." she echoed softly, digging the toe of one athletic shoe into the floor slightly.

She was used to being one of the tallest people around, but he made her feel positively short - which, at five foot ten, was almost never the case. Kala kept her smile somehow as he approached, freeing a hand to shake his proffered one with a soft strength. She could feel Rin gaping at the back of her mind as her skin tingled, whether it was the Force or his unexpected warmth, she couldn't be certain.

Could have been both.

"Its an honor to meet you. I aspire to being a Healer myself someday." Kala replied brightly, tilting her head to glance up and better meet his gaze.

[Ilias Nytrau]

"A healer?" He smile bled away, leaving a neutral face, as his thoughts turned and his larger, stronger hand gripped her smaller, softer one. "Healers, I should have you know, are hard to come by. One cannot become a healer merely because he or she wishes to."

With that, his hand fell away and both hands met behind the small of his back, hand clasping wrist. The halfbreed studied the young woman's face. He had already taken stock of her more feminine frame, also noting her height - which was taller than the average for a human female. Then again, he himself was much taller than the average for a human male. He knew for certain that neither party here, in this late night hour, was fully human stock. It, however, mattered little at this point.

"What I am asking, Kala'ndryl, is if it has become apparent to you whether you are predisposed to such a path. Whether you have experienced any... 'signs', as it were? Innate talent is even rarer than the ability to be trained to such a level that one can be called a healer."

Ilias turned his head, glancing over his shoulder and out the corner of his eye to the dim lighting of the makeshift dojo. He had another question, but would politely wait for the answer to the first.

[Kala'ndryl Ryj]

Try as she might, there was no controlling the slightly crumpled expression that ran across her features. Kala sighed and dropped her gaze to the floor as she shook her head.

"No...nothing yet. Its...just...that I was told that was where my gifts would be. I just had to be patient and they'd manifest when they were meant to. Not sure if my father was just being kind or if it was supposed to take this long." She replied, her tone soft and bordering on dejected. Here she was, in possession of something her father had once called a mothering-strong gift, and she could do nothing with it save shifting a little bit of water when she went cliff-diving. Nothing meaningful or remotely helpful to others.

Kala absently tucked a loose wisp behind her ear, fingertips lingering on the silver and blue mark that half disappeared into her hair.

"Wish I had a better answer for you."

[Ilias Nytrau]

"That is quite alright." He assured the young woman with these words. "Sometimes, our inherent gifts need to be coaxed out. We are not all so simply notified of our endowment, as I and others have been. The reasons for this are nothing I can truly put my finger on."

He stepped aside and gestured within, an unspoken invitation to enter the dojo, appraising the young woman again, wondering at any skill she might have in more physical domains. Proper physical domains, lest the reader think our fine Jedi man a lech, which is very far from the truth. When she didn't budge, he then verbalized his request.

"Please, enter the second of my domains, that I might converse with you in this way, child."

He dropped his hand, soon thereafter folding it into the crossing of his arms over his bare chest. He had, by now, cooled considerably. Without the active use of his healing power, he was almost the normal cool of the standard human body temperature, give or take two degrees. Strangely, he had little issue with remaining so semi-unclothed. Realizing the way he might have caught her young eyes at such a state of undress, however, the Knight went to retrieve his top, pulling it over his head in short order, facing her once again when this was done.

"I daresay you might stand to learn something, if you do. Come along, now. The night ages and so does the chance for undisturbed practices."

[Kala'ndryl Ryj]

In true, brash, seventeen-year-old fashion, her mouth opened for a retort as her nose wrinkled in distaste.

However, as wasn't the case with most seventeen-years-olds, she soon found her mouth closing as she thought better of it. Fingers lifted to pinch the bridge of her nose as she breathed deep and even, trying to remember that he likely wasn't doing it to be spiteful.

Wow...and you're controlling your temper...never thought I'd live to see the da-

You didn't, you twit, you're dead and living in my head.

Minor details, little sister.

So help me, I'm having you exorcised at the earliest possible time.

You will not...you'd be bored without me.

She hated it when he was right. That earned a very verbal, very frustrated sigh as his laughter echoed through her mind. One foot in front of the other, she managed to slowly walk into the dojo without making a spectacle of herself. Normally, Kala mused, she'd have tripped over something by now, as was always the case when she was confronted with a new situation and a new person all at once.

You know, I wonder if he can hear me, since he's a Jedi. Dad could.

Rin...for the love of all that's holy, please don't-

The young woman winced and pressed the palms of her hands into her eyes elbows resting on her knees as she dropped into a crouch. Rin, in the mean time was doing his level best to be 'heard' and 'seen', performing the mental equivalent of sending up smoke signals and doing cartwheels as he sang.

Loudly.

And off-key.

[Ilias Nytrau]

He watched her as she entered, a ever-so-slight defiant tone to her walk, so typical of one of her age that it hardly surprised him and caused no rise. But mostly, her gait was cautious, exhibiting a lack of confidence and intense self-awareness. This of course, ended abruptly when he found his eyes tracking her down to the mats and the thought processes began that he should aid her, seeing as she appeared to be in pain. And broad paces ensued to bring him closer until... he stopped, a strange look scrawled across his features.

"What is that?" He queried to a noise that was not loud, but present, but not making any noise at all that his ears could hear. It smacked distinctly of an obvious pull for attention, strange that it was all in his head when he clued in that such was the case and stranger still... the voice was none that he at all recognized in the slightest. It was a little distracting as he brought himself down to level with Kala'ndryl, forearms poised on his own knees, fingers laced as the pieces of this new situation fell into place.

"Kala'ndryl? What is going on?" He wrenched his head down into a position to peer up and around at her downcast face with the screwed-up expression that noted a fair level of discomfort. "What is this?"

[Kala'ndryl Ryj]

-He can hear me! I told you he'd be able to! KAAAAALLLLAAAAA!!! HE CAN HEAR ME!!!-

There weren't enough words to describe just how nuch she hated it when he drew out her name like that. With little faith it would do any good, she lifted stray thought and swatted at him with it.

Several times.

The new method of persuasion worked after a bit, though the pain remained. Her awareness filtered back to a useful state and finally picked up on the fact that Ilias was crouched before her - confusion and discomfort writ across his features. Kala breathed deeply and rubbed at her watering eyes before trying to form an answer in a tired, soft voice.

"That would be would be all that remains of my twin brother. My older twin by all of two minutes, to be precise. He's ...dead. not quite sure how his spirit ended up lodged in my head, but he did. He's been there for...almost five years now. And only our dad was able to hear him, until you."