Young Blood

[Tionne Thanewulf]

''So, sugar... Where do you serve?'' a tall, dark-haired man asked, leaning over the bar. Thanewulf sat on a barstool, clad in leather from tip to toe; tight black pants packaged her curves with utmost precision, while the jacket of the same hue remained zipped all the way to her neck. Tionne's fiery hair made her stand out in a bar full of officers serving aboard The Valiant, seeking some form of entertainment and relaxation over a glass of ale. Quite a few of them engaged in some form of social games such as sabbac and dejarik, while others roamed the establishment in search of an occasional flirt, or if the other party agreed, something more. Such was Deyan, the ship's junior mechanic who had already told everything there was about himself. And it wasn't much. The Knight could not blame him though - he was only twenty. Like many, he left the pastures of his homeworld in search of glory, a higher purpose and cause.

''Now wouldn't you like to know that?'' the Jedi quizzed in rhetoric, tapping the tip of his nose in a playful manner. After being encapsulated in a block of carbon for nearly a quarter of a century, Tionne craved human contact. And not the sterile, servile exchanges she had with the Jedi, but living, breathing, sinning people of the galaxy.

''Why so mysterious? You aren't an Imperial spy, are you?'' Deyan asked, leaning in to breach into her personal space. Instead of retrieving or letting him know such a gesture was inappropriate, Tionne remained motionless.
''Far from it.'' she stated, eyes briefly skimming the crowd at the entrance, the Force telling her she would not be the sole Jedi in the bar for long.

[Abarai Loki]

The turbolift doors opened and a team of weary engineers spilled out into the crew deck, promptly followed by a small boy in Jedi robes. He paused, giving his surroundings a cursory glance, and inwardly deflated. He found himself in a large circular room from which numerous long passages dispersed at intervals, and it was populated by men and women of the Rebellion who it seemed had disregarded, en masse, all formal dress regulation. They wore their uniforms in some bizarre state of undress or had dispensed of them entirely, opting for civillian clothing instead. The only notable exceptions being those queued at the turbolift on their way to work.

There was a loud and casual mood infecting the crewmen and it seemed to originate from a place on the opposite side of the hall where there was music and laughter. That, Loki gathered, was the cantina. He rounded the room until he reached its broad entrance where military personnel mingled in a fashion which was anything but military. Careful to avoid a cluster of drunken pilots, Loki entered, drawing bemused stares from all around the room. His eyes narrowed in search of the woman who'd arranged to meet him here, an eager deckhand enticed by the challenge of fitting a starfighter to suit the proportions of an under-developed fourteen year old boy. But he was early and she was nowhere to be seen.

However, another woman caught his attention, snuggled up to the bar and hampered by an amorous young man. And she had seen him. It seemed fate had designs of making the evening more unbearable. Biting the bullet, he approached the bar, it offering the only place left to sit. Climbing onto a stool next to the leather-clad redhead, he kept his eyes fixed forward, and said:

"I presume you aren't here to bring fire to the people."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Wide-eyed, Deyan just looked at Thanewulf, waiting for her to explain this new arrival. Judging by the tone the boy addressed her, they weren't exactly strangers, the youthful mechanic figured.
''Wait... is this... You have a kid?'' he asked, spitting out whatever seemed most trivial. Loki appeared as puny as ever, while women could technically look at least a decade younger, given proper care and the wonders of plastic surgery. Thus parenting this little austere bundle of bile was a perfectly viable option.

''Yeah.'' the redhead confirmed somewhat somberly - ''This one and another one back home.''
The confession made Deyan finish his drink early, sliding a few credit chips across the bar.
''Nice meeting you, Lucy. Sorry.'' he said, giving her an apologetic look and a shrug.
Most men were freaked out by children, so Tionne could not blame him for walking out; once Deyan was out of sight, she glanced sideways, eyeing Loki.
''You ruined my date.'' the Coruscanti stated, then nodded to the bartender - ''Give 'im a glass of blue milk. It's way past his bedtime.''

[Abarai Loki]

"You can keep your blue milk," Loki warned the bartender, holding him at bay with a frosty glare.

"Blindness is a symptom of hibernation sickness, correct?" he mused casually, glancing over his shoulder to the retreating mechanic. He crashed into a seat between friends, who greeted him with a blast of laughter and clapped him on the back. Much like the other hearty patrons in attendance, they suckled on beer bottles, sinking rapidly into drunken oblivion. Loki frowned and turned to rest his hands upon the bar, a sticky spillage gave him pause for thought and he resigned himself to sitting properly with hands in his lap.

"So tell me, Lucy, what is it that draws you to such a... place, other than the standards?"

[Tionne Thanewulf]

''The entirety of The Valiant gravitates to this place, so I thought I'd pay a visit and see what's the deal...'' she began, rocking back in her seat as her full lips wrapped around the rim of her glass, sucking in some of whiskey simmering inside. The staunch aroma of the beverage bit back at her tonsils, dripping down her throat.
Tionne drew air in through her teeth before continuing.

''Apparently, they have alcohol, debauchery and immoral self-indulgence. All they were missing were pretty women. So I came to rectify that.'' the Knight stated rather vainly, yet smiled lop-sidedly in manner quite inappropriate for a Jedi - at least a Jedi Abarai Loki was used to. Thanewulf had spent most of her life away from the Order and vibrant preaching of codification; as such, she was very keen on her freedom, even if other members of the Order saw her as ruthless. She had passed the point of caring a long time ago, even before Loki was a glint in his father's eye.

''How about you? Came to see the sandbox that awaits you?'' the Coruscanti quizzed, her smile transforming into a cheeky grin.

[Abarai Loki]

"Hardly," he answered, eyebrow arched as he gave her curious sideways glance, "Under normal circumstances I wouldn't be found dead in such a place."

On her breath he caught the sharp scent of whiskey and grimmaced. Tionne Thanewulf could very well be the antithesis of everything for which he stood. He considered moving elsewhere to salvage his reputation then he remembered where he was...

Now somewhat dispirited, he confessed, "Someone is supposed to meet me here."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

''Normal circumstances...'' Thanewulf groused, clicking tongue against her teeth - ''Haven't had those since the Republic fell. As a matter of fact, I don't even remember what normal is. Which is self evident.''
Tionne was prone to self-criticism, merely to offset some of the apparent vanity she frequently displayed. Not all people understood her peculiar sense of humour, often having trouble discerning if she was joking or had actually meant what she said.

''As for the meeting... Not everybody like to meet in crumbling ruins of a centuries old sanctuary on a remote moon of an even more remote planet just to levitate stones and discuss spiritual regeneration whilst fending off hostile avian crustaceans with glow-sticks. You know, people go to bars to meet other people, talk, flirt and more generally - socialize.'' the redhead explained jocularly, then pointed to the glass now refilled with whiskey.

''And this, my dear, is the most sophisticated of all mimicries. It is a symbol of a life-long tendency and aspiration to blend in with the society at large. The only difference between me and them is the fact that I know our friend back there...'' Tionne broke off to motion in the general direction of the aforementioned mechanic . ''...that he is married. Guilt is not that easy to hide.''

[Abarai Loki]

"Tacky and unprincipled," Loki concluded, his eyes again forward, studying the bright mirrored shelves of liquor bottles opposite him.

"There are cracks in your logic so large you could fly freighters through them. The difference between you and them is that you are a Jedi, and that makes you exceptional."

The words left a terrible aftertaste in his mouth and for a second, he feared he would have to partake in a glass of bluemilk after all. Loki took exception with most things the red-haired Jedi had to say but something in particular didn't sit quite right with him.

"And for all your talk of blending in, it seems you invest a great deal of energy in standing out from your Jedi peers. Is it attention you seek?"

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Thanewulf laughed at his remarks, every and each one. She never particularly tried to be such a pest to have people openly detest her; yet it happened on a regular basis, more often among Jedi than not. Abstinence was never her strong point, nor could she ever live a truly monastic life. Loki might think of her as despicable, but at least she was true to herself, natural, unfeigned.

''Why do you think I do it on purpose? You're the one who's about to hit puberty, not me.'' said the Knight, then took another gulp of her drink, leaving the liquid to simmer in her mouth for a few moments, relishing the taste.

''I mean... I could ask the same question. Are you a seventy year old cranky, impotent gaffer trapped in a body of kid? You think you have thee right to criticize everything and everybody. Well, in my opinion, you should be spanked. Then again, I'm told a good deal of males enjoys this...'' the redhead trailed off in a chuckle, lifting the glass to her mouth.

[Abarai Loki]

There was much of what Tionne had said that Loki wasn't sure he understood, at all. Her words regarding impotence, puberty, and spanking were very much lost on him and he failed to see any kind of logical correlation between her statements and their topic of conversation. Assuming the alcohol was starting to take its toll, which going by her random chuckling it was, Loki simply responded with a characteristic arch of the eyebrow.

"If my standards of discipline and efficiency are too high for my peers then I am not at fault. Nor shall I apologise for expecting the same standards of others - we are Jedi, not some ramshackle band of quixotic misfits. And speaking of misfits: do you not own any clothes that fit properly?"

[Tionne Thanewulf]

"I can tell that you are still unfamiliar with the concept of outgrowing your clothes, no?" the redhead retorted sardonically, sporting a lop-sided grin. For a fourteen-year old boy, he was surely sharp on the tongue. In a way, Thanewulf liked this feat, as it was a clear, indisputable sign of intelligence. Secretly, Tionne wondered what will become of him when he finally becomes a man.

"Still, these clothes fit perfectly. Ask any man in this gorram place and he will confirm it." she said with confidence in her voice before pasting her lips to the rim of the glass. With a slurp, the Knight drew in one last mouthful of whiskey then set the empty glass on the counter. A hand was placed over it to indicate no refills were necessary. This was just enough.

"In time, you will learn to appreciate my clothing style, I'm sure." Tionne added, placing her elbows on the bar. Despite being fairly intoxicated, her senses remained sharp; upon feeling an object fly by in the general direction of her head, Tionne ducked, covering the back of her head with her left hand. A glass flew over and smashed against the bottles behind the bar, tipping a few over.
"What the..." Thanewulf was about to curse as she spun on the tall chair to see what was happening.

[Abarai Loki]

A young man; short in height, humble in stature; stalked towards an incensed Twi'lek and swung a punch as he rose from his seat. Inebriation had cursed him with questionable aim, hence the broken bottles behind the bar, and his first blow missed. He stumbled forward and wrestled the Twi'lek to the floor, via the table. All around the room, heads turned, and bystanders parted to grant the brawlers some space. This circle was breached only by friends intent on breaking up the fight, and Loki watched, until inevitably...

Now there were six drunkards fighting. Folding his arms, the young Jedi watched the entire reprehensible scene unfold, and offered Tionne a knowing glance.

"Considering your quest to reconnect with the common man, perhaps you would like to helm this... social experiment?"

[Tionne Thanewulf]

"Absolutely."

Thanewulf slid the leather jacket off her shoulders for the sheer purpose of practicality, revealing a black tank top underneath. In such tight clothing, one could never swing a fist right. With an amused grin, the redhead beamed right into the brawl, her knuckles aiming at a chin of a drunken Iktotchi mechanic who aimed to toss a bottle in Loki's direction. His coriaceous complexion absorbed much momentum from the blow, leaving Tionne with no other option but to administer yet another blow, only this time in the groin. The humanoid stumbled away, nearly passing out.

"Hah! You're all soft there, aren't you?" Tionne remarked wittily, facing Loki to flash him a wry grin.
"Are you the kind that likes to watch?" she asked, aware Loki would not comprehend the implied.
While the Knight awaited for Abarai's reply, a tall, burly friend of the Iktotchi mechanic charged at Tionne from behind, like an enraged bull at a red flag.

[Abarai Loki]

"Yes."

Tionne was flattened under her hulking assailant and, in the mad scramble, disappeared from sight. An arch of the eyebrow, and Loki returned to his barstool. He summoned the bartender, who was in a wild gesticulating panic, and he looked to the Jedi expectantly.

"I believe I will have a glass of blue milk now."

The rubbery features on the bartender's face contracted in disbelief, his eyes tracked across the room to where the pandemonium unfolded, and then returned to his young customer, who appeared completely oblivious to it all. He hesitated.

"Even a Jedi's patience has limits," Loki said, gravely, sending the barkeep on his way.

A moment later and he was presented with a tall glass of blue milk. He gave it a sniff, then took a long swig, while crashing bodies and meat-packing punches sounded somewhere behind him. Afterwards, he considered his beverage with a frown.

"Not bad."