New Shoes

[Morgan Evanar]

Open, but post a thread in RP discussion if you want to join in. :)

Sluis Van Shipyards
“We should probably get you a new ship.” Morgan remarked. They’d freighter-hopped clear of the Wheel a few days prior. Serenity was long-gone. Still, after being captured by the Inquisoriate, it was a relief to see Serena on her feet again. The doctors had cleared her less than a week prior, but she seemed her firm, brisk self again.

“Something anonymous but armed, maybe a YV-929?” Morgan suggested. He was a fan of Corellian ships. They were durable, easily maintained, and infinitely modifiable.

Sluis Van’s shipyards were incredibly busy. Shuttles moved passengers between the orbital stations that they were allowed to visit. Some were Imperial/workers only. Still, entire docking and cargo bays were rented to starship sales groups. Unlike Nar Shadda, if they dealt with a Sluissi salesman, they would be able to get a good ship in good order.

[Serena Laran]

"Something that large?" Serena raised an eyebrow as she looked over at her padawan. "I'm just used to a much smaller ship. But you are probably right. Serenity was small and fast, but had no weapons to speak of.

"In addition, our companions," she did not name the Wheel or the Jedi, of course, "will appreciate something with a bit more room." If she stayed with the convoy, that was.

She felt strong again, after languishing in the Challenger's infirmary for so long, but her face betrayed some of her recent experiences - a few extra crow's feet, and an impression that the skin under her eyes was thinner. Her expression was calm as Morgan steered them through the concourse, and then she put her hand on his elbow to stop him.

"I sold Serenity at a loss," she said quietly. "I cannot afford..." Serena took a slow breath. "Perhaps something smaller is better."

[Morgan Evanar]

They paused as foot traffic flowed past them, like two stones in a stream.

"Who said you're buying?" Morgan cracked a grin. Ultimately, his budget was limited. After all, he didn’t have a financial empire, just a small fiefdom. He had amassed a good amount of wealth during his slicing years, and didn’t spend much of it on amenities or toys. Instead, he’d played the stock and commodities markets to what used to be surprising success. Morgan often had inside information from non-market sources, coupled with an unknown Force affinity ended up netting a good-sized pile of money.

“I made plenty of money at my previous job. But when we’re done, I do need help with something.”

[Serena Laran]

Serena moved her hand down to his forearm and gave it a gentle squeeze. "Of course." Her hand lingered a moment, and then Morgan put his hand over it as he turned and led her through the crowd, tucking her hand into the crook of his elbow. She smiled, and gave his side a nudge with her hand before retrieving it.

"So, a Corellian freighter." Serena looked around at the flashy displays designed to draw customers into the web of a specific group of salesmen. "I used to think that Nabooian designs were the best. Prettiest, anyway. It's sad to think that they don't produce many ships any more."

[Morgan Evanar]

"Oh, they really were. What rim kid didn't have a J-type model?" Morgan smiled. Serena nodded, but had not shared that experience.

"It's out of my price range, though." They wandered down, further from the more forward starship and part merchants to areas that smelled more of welds and work. Most of the ships were of Corellian origin, since they held a large chunk of the small freighter market. Some decommissioned Lamba T-4a shuttles were available, but their small crew requirements (1) ruled them out. Some TL-1200s, 3 S40K Phoenix Hawks in various repair, and several TL-1800s, probably because the owners were fed up with the garbage Portal Delta navicomps.

"Well, what suits your fancy?" Morgan asked.

[Serena Laran]

She perused the listings that she'd pulled up on her datapad, and shook her head slightly. "I am willing to trust your judgement, Morgan. I may be knowledgable about some things, but starships are not one of them."

Serena handed him the pad so he could get a good look on the specs of the specific vehicles before them.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Well," Morgan began, "if some of those TL-1800s have had that gods-awful Portal Delta ripped out and replaced with a decent unit, like a Fabritech, it's probably the best choice. It's the easiest open to operate with a single pilot, and while a little sluggish stock, that could be remedied. And they're dead reliable. Or we could have our friends back home replace the navicomp." Serena nodded.

The first T-1800 was a fair price. It still had the Portal Delta, but Morgan was convinced he could get it home anyway. Besides, they were in no hurry. The Sluisi salesbeing was very helpful, pointing out that the engines had been recently overhauled, and he could recommend a tech for refitting the navicomp if Serena so desired. The owner had traded it in on a YT-1930, wanting the better speed of the Corellian option. He continued to explain the features of the ship, like external cargo pod capacity, reliability, and roughly how many hours were needed before an overhaul.

When the salesbeing left, Morgan leaned against a bulkhead.

"What do you think?"

[Serena Laran]

Serena nodded, "I think it is a good choice. Its reliability is a big plus, in my eyes."

She stood in front of Morgan as he lounged against a bulkhead, disguising the speed and strength within his lanky body with the skill of a house cat. "With the engines so recently serviced it could be over a year before we need to take care of them again, and that is very attractive." The Jedi brushed a lock of hair from her eyes, a strand that had escaped her usually tight braids.

Morgan nodded, going over to talk to the salesbeing again, and Serena took his place against the bulkhead. She felt exposed here, where so many Imperials lurked just around the corner (figuratively speaking of course). She'd loosed color-crawlers in her hair the night before to subdue her distinctive red tresses, in hopes that her appearance would not trigger anything on the Shipyards security holos. Morgan had assured her that they were practically as safe as they were on the Wheel, but they both knew that wasn't exactly the case.

She tucked the loose strand of brown hair back behind her ear, and fiddled with the hood of the light blue cloak she was wearing over her modern clothing. The Force was all around and through her... She made sure the hood was still adequately covering her without making her look suspicious and took a deep breath as Morgan continued his negotiations with the Sluisi salesbeing.

She was a leaf on the river. Calm.

[Morgan Evanar]

"20,000." The Sluisi Salesbeing relented after Morgan taunted with offers of 19,000. It was a fair price. Both parties knew it.

"Deal." Morgan smiled. He knew that the Sluisi didn't really believe in negotiating a price, but had adopted the practice after years of dealing with outsiders who desperately wanted to haggle. The Sluisi had already made notes on what bottom price to sell at. Morgan reached into his pocket and pulled out 20 credit chits, each marked appropriately. With everything signed, documented and paid for, the Sluisi left Morgan and Serena to her ship.

The TL-1800 wasn't the prettiest ship in the galaxy, but the clustered engine array, centered, narrow cockpit and angular design gave it a very purposeful look.

"So, what's the name?"

[Serena Laran]

She pursed her lips at the question, surveying the decidedly lumpy looking ship. Since Serenity had been built, before the Clone Wars, ship aesthetic design had seemed to fall by the wayside in favor of other elements, like durability.

"Gaoth agus Domhain," she said. "Wind and Water." She placed her palm on the hull for a moment, trailing her long fingers across the surface. "Are we allowed to take possession now?"

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan grinned.
"Yup. Gaoth is yours. Well, they'll taxi it out to an external bay, but outside of that, she's ready to fly." He explained. Serena nodded. She seemed to be lost in thought for a moment. No, it was not Serenity but this ship was better suited to the difficult times they were in. She looked at Morgan.

"You said you needed help with something?" Serena asked.

Morgan reached into his jacket. He pulled out a cylinder. It was metal, but 4/5ths were covered in a rubberized grip that was more likely to be found on a swoop or speeder bike. It was flared near the top, just above the grip, and the bottom was low-power light emitter. Below the flared piece was a rotating switch that notched into the flared bit to turn on. He pushed the switch to rotate, but not join into the hand guard. The bottom lit up. Morgan pushed it all the way, the bottom turned off. There was a quiet hum, but nothing happened.

"I can't find the right crystal. Everything I've tried just... doesn't feel right." Morgan shut his fancy flashlight off.

[Serena Laran]

"May I?" Serena put her hand out, and Morgan placed the cylinder in her palm. Turning it over in her hand she nodded slowly. "It has a good weight to it. Not too light, and you've balanced it properly as well."

She smiled. "The crystal is the most important part, of course, but you've done well for your first attempt." Serena handed the incomplete lightsaber back to her padawan, and tucked her hands into the pockets inside her cloak.

She regarded Gaoth, and said slowly, "If she'll get us there... there was a cave I found years ago on Dhomanda A'lainn (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/../wiki/index.php?title=Dhomanda_A%27lainn). It could be worth checking out." Also to make sure the Empire isn't making an example of the people there. She remembered telling them where she'd hidden for all those years. Between the drugs and the sleep deprivation she knew she had barely a chance to keep anything back, but she still felt shame.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan gazed at the space through the walls of the freighter where the navigation computer would be, as if he could see it through the bulkhead, and see it's hardware and programming interacting. He blinked twice.

"I will make it work." It wasn't a boast. It was a statement of fact. Morgan knew he could make it work.

[Serena Laran]

"All right then." She thought for a moment. "Our friends are expecting us back, but we should be able to let them know we are being delayed a few days."

Part of her wished Sol was with her - in fact she hardly had wanted to leave the Wheel to come here, for the irrational fear that he would have disappeared into the ether while she was gone. But she did want to share the planet she'd spent so much time on with him.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan nodded.

"So what's the planet like?" He asked. He'd talked to Rhianna about her homeworld, of course, but had never discussed it with Serena. Hearing about it from her perspective could be illuminating.

[Serena Laran]

"Beautiful," she said, almost wistfully. "The continent I lived on had great swathes of forests, and very little flat land. Valley meadows were ringed by hills and great mountains capped with year round snow. It rained in the fall and spring, and snowed every winter, and the summers were hot and wonderful.

"There were drier, more tropical or desert-like areas of the planet, but I did not travel to them. The tincéir, Rhianna's tribe, are families of traveling gypsies as you know, and they would travel between the caers, facilitating trade. No doubt they have seen much of what the planet contains, but there is no easy way to travel long distances. The Roghnófar Daoine who left to see other places rarely made it back to their home caer."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan rubbed the back of his neck.

"I've never really seen a forest." He remarked. Slicing had never taken him to anything with much of a view. Even on some of the nicer worlds, he'd mostly seen the inside of ventilation shafts and offices.

"We should probably pick up some rations before we go." Morgan added, contemplating masses of trees.

[Serena Laran]

She nodded. "I would like to bring some medical supplies as well, as a gift for the chieftain of the caer I lived closest to. But I knew well how to live off the land, should it come to that."

Serena winked, laughing softly at the look on Morgan's face. "I doubt we will have to hunt coiníní to survive, do not worry." Still, they had no idea what to expect in the region. The Imperial outpost could be reinforced, making a discrete arrival impossible.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon slid into his seat in an isolated office just off the command deck of the Challenger, and the crewwoman who'd shown him in dutifully disappeared down the corridor. That left him alone with a comm monitor displaying some inscrutable encryption code over an Alliance seal.

"Accept transmission, authorization eight-two-eight tango theta niner rancor."

The encryption code gave way to a familiar face framed with fiery red braids. Solomon smiled broadly. "Serena. I was just thinking of you."

[Serena Laran]

She smiled at Sol - Solomon. "I hope I am not too much of a distraction," she teased gently. "Morgan says this is a secure transmission, but we'll have to keep it short. We are going to be delayed in returning by a few days. An opportunity for a side trip to... the planet I used to live on has come up."

Her eyes reflected some discomfort as she continued. "I was hoping you could relay that to the council so they do not worry."

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon had made a point to pull up what intelligence the Alliance had on Dhomnda A'lainn, known to the Empire as RX-271, once Serena had told him about the time she'd spent there. It was considered backwater, even by outer rim standards, but the Imperial presence had grown there in recent months for unknown reasons.

The concern was plain on Solomon's face. "I can pass that along," he said. "May I ask what you're planning to do there?"

[Serena Laran]

"There are some crystals we are hoping to recover, and I wish to check on the welfare of the people. To that end," Serena added, "I have a favor to ask you."

"Oh?" Solomon said, lifting his eyebrows. "You know you only have to ask."

"I would like to be able to gift some medical supplies to the chieftains I interacted with the most. Nothing too exotic, but bacta and other antibiotics - things of that nature. I know you keep Exodus fairly well stocked, and I was hoping you could be persuaded to meet us on the way..?"

Serena smiled, adding, "Also Morgan thinks a medical shuttle would be a better cover than an empty freighter, in case we are stopped by the Empire."

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon's smile deepened with relief. Sending Serena into danger was one thing. Riding into danger alongside her - well, that was just as if the chrono had been turned back thirty years.

"Oh, you'd be surprised where you can go with a medical shuttle and a valid missionary license," he said. "I'll have Exodus prepped and ready to launch as soon as I've had a word with the Council. And believe me..." He looked around at the stale bulkheads surrounding him. "You're doing me a favor."

[Serena Laran]

Some of the tension around her eyes eased, tension that wasn't visible until it was gone. "Then I look forward to seeing you again. May the Force be with you, Sol."

Serena ended the transmission and looked up at Morgan. "Do we need to spend more time purchasing rations to supply Gaoth, or have you been able to find what we need?"

[Morgan Evanar]

The timer in the right corner of the screen had two minutes left. Serena had kept it brief, which meant the encryption protocol wasn't even close to being taxed. The stack boring brown boxes on a hand truck were packed full of generic ration bars, which Morgan could consume at a frightening pace when active. It was enough food for six people three weeks, just in case. He idly opened a ration bar.

Well, normal people. Morgan ate enough for 2 on a low activity day. Rations were boring. Morgan ate food made from plants and animals given almost any chance, but since they were floating around in space, there wasn't a huge opportunity for fresh food.

"We're full up on the generic boring stuff. Not especially enjoyable, but it will keep us going for about a month. I figure we can get better food on Dhomnda A'lainn."

Morgan gestured at a pallet carrier, loaded with medical equipment. Fold out cots, medical grade tubing, drip devices, scanners, publicly available drugs, gauze, vibro-scalpels, and of course, a hammer.

"Got a surprise for you too." He said, and gnawed on the bar.

[Serena Laran]

Her eyes lit up, and she smiled widely. "That is wonderful, Morgan. Thank you."

Serena got to her feet, straightening her cloak and brushing away an imaginary wrinkle or two. "Sol will be joining us, all that remains is to transmit a rendezvous point to Exodus." She looked at the hand truck and pallet of supplies, adding, "And getting these on board our new ship, of course."

[Morgan Evanar]

No mess, no fuss. Morgan wasn't sure if that was how the phrase went, but that was how setting up Serena's medbay had gone. The Portal Delta was behaving, too. He'd let Serena do the course plotting, and simply massaged the cranky hardware into working. In the six hours it took to get to the waypoint, they'd set up most of the makeshift medbay into something that looked more static. Serena had cleverly designed it to resist sudden impacts, and anything but loose items would stay put, short of a zero-g scenario.

They were more than halfway to RX-271 from Sluisi space, at a good place to rendezvous with a ship from the wheel, in a charted but unoccupied solar system, with the exception of a mining complex on the other side of the sun.

Morgan prodded the console for the Portal Delta. They were exactly where they were supposed to be.

"Who's a good little Portal Delta? That's right, you are." he said with more than a touch of whimsy.

"Ah, there he is." Morgan added, picking up a fresh new blip on the sensor readout.

[Rev Solomon]

The Theta-class medical shuttle crashed down from hyperspace less like a starship and more like a boulder falling into a river. Solomon almost thought he could hear the inertial dampers whining under the dimensional stress, but he knew it was just his imagination. Still, wouldn't hurt to ask Morgan to take a look next time the Exodus was laid up in the Challenger's hangar.

IFF confirmed that his contact was nearby, and he switched on the comm. "This is Exodus calling... how exactly do you pronounce that?"

[Serena Laran]

"Gaoth agus Domhain," Serena said over the comm, her voice tinged with a smile. "Just exactly how it looks." She had been laughing at Morgan's conversation with the Portal Delta when Solomon had hailed them. "Approach at your own pace; we should be able to dock together with little problem, but I'm going to let Morgan take care of that."

Her padawan took the controls, and Serena brushed a loose strand of hair from her face while the two ships maneuvered together. Her stomach felt strange, and she pressed her hands together over her abdomen, as though that would quiet the butterflies within.

[Morgan Evanar]

The two ships soon engaged in a dance of synchronization. It was possible to let the ship match Solomon's automatically, but Morgan's mind seized the opportunity to do some rather involved real-time math coordinated with very fine motor skills. His hands moved smoothly across the ships controls, and gently coaxed the freighter to dock with angular Theta shuttle.

The ships connected with a surprisingly soft clunk. Morgan double-checked everything before he stood up, and went to welcome Solomon to Serena's new boat, but stopped first to open a box he'd put in the middle of the rations. It was two bottles of wine, one bubbly, one delicious. Bottles in hand, he went to meet the other Jedi who'd spent the most time watching Serena wake up.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon waited in the docking cowl as the two ships exchanged atmosphere, clad in his customary long nerfhide coat over his black shirt and clerical collar. When the airlock finally hissed open, he was surprised to see Morgan holding two bottles of wine.

"Good to see you Morgan. I guess this means the shopping went well?"

[Serena Laran]

Serena took a deep breath, then followed Morgan out of the cockpit and down the passage. She nodded to Solomon, "We were very successful, thanks to Morgan's knowledge of ships."

They lingered at the airlock for a moment, and then she stepped back, "Come in, come in, and welcome aboard."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan smiled in response to Sol.

"Well, now that everyone is here..." Morgan trailed off, and handed Serena the bubbly bottle. It was cool, almost cold to the touch.

"This was very thoughtful of you, Morgan." Serena said, and popped the cork. It bounced off the ceiling, and banked down the hall.

[Rev Solomon]

It had been a very long time since Solomon had attended the christening of a new starship. Fortunately, the Faith didn't forbid its ministers from having a little wine every now and then.

Solomon lightly sipped his as Serena and Morgan showed him the clinic they'd raised in the cargo bay. It was simple in the way that speaks of cleanliness and practicality, and, really, you didn't need much more than a few simple tools, a raised, flat surface, and plenty of light to do a world of good to people without access to medical care. Solomon had done it often enough on the grace of a few courses in battlefield medicine.

"I've got supplies for a good week of clinical work," he said as he rifled through the Gaoth's stock. "Also six cases of medicated bandages and common antibiotics. Just one case of bacta, though. It's getting harder and harder to convince medical to part with it."

The preacher stepped around a privacy curtain and carefully set down his cup - not a stemmed glass, which was silly to carry aboard a working starship - on an exam table. "So that should do it for our official business. What else do we have planned?"

He looked Serena gamely in the eye, knowing full well there was an else the Imperials shouldn't know about.

[Serena Laran]

She returned his gaze squarely, her mind suddenly overflowing with memories. "There is a cave system beneath the Cos Briste mountains. I explored it at length a few years after I arrived." Serena waved her hand a bit, as though skipping over a long and boring story. "It is extensive, and there is a cavern that is crusted over with crystals. I tested a few at the time - they are appropriate for lightsabers."

She found herself considering the last time she was in a cave with Sol, and managed to keep her blush to a slight tinge of pink in her cheeks. "With Illum known to the Empire, and the Jedi installation there destroyed, this could be a very important substitute for us. And," she added, "Morgan is constructing his lightsaber."

Serena sipped her champagne, her lips curling up in a secret smile that she couldn't quite contain but hoped to mask with her cup.

[Morgan Evanar]

"I figured I should learn how to use one by now." Morgan stated. Something was slightly off about Serena's demeanor, but he couldn't place exactly what it was. There were several possibilities. Going back to Dhomnda A'lainn, the new ship... Sol? They were both Old Republic Jedi, it was possible that they knew each other well from the Clone Wars and before.

Morgan sipped the wine. He'd spent a little more than he wanted to, but the product was fantastic. Besides, it wasn't every day a ship was christened.

[Rev Solomon]

Serena may have been the empathic one, but that didn't mean Solomon was blind to where her mind was going. Those were powerful memories, even if they seemed a lifetime away. But circumstances had not yet given them the opportunity to decide, together, what to do with them. Which led to an awful lot of coltish glances and awkward smiles unbecoming two seasoned veterans of the Order.

"I couldn't agree more, Morgan," Solomon said. "Any idea where your focus will be? Soresu, like your master?"

Text, subtext... damnation, he couldn't keep this up for long. Maybe the two of them could steal away from Morgan for a few hours and finally put it plain to each other.

[Serena Laran]

Serena sipped the wine again as Morgan and Sol spoke of lightsabers and combat and fighting styles. She rarely partook of alcohol, and was careful not to overdo it, though suppressing the effect of the wine would not be too difficult. That sort of thing usually turned around against the person who tried it, however.

She set her tumbler down, carefully not looking at Sol, and smoothed her clothes. They would be underway soon, heading home.

Home?

She paced along the cabinets built into the bulkhead, her body showing signs of her inward anxiety to be underway. Serena hadn't realized how much she missed the tranquility of Dhomanda A'lainn, but she was becoming excited to be returning.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan rubbed his chin.

"I hadn't given it much thought, although Adia said I'd be very effective at Djem So with my build and strength. Definitely not Vaapad. I don't think I have that sort of intensity."

"I have a lot of experience with a knife, but after watching some of the other Jedi spar and practice with sabers, they're just a different beast. I only know which way to point the thing." Morgan stated with a chuckle.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon chuckled back, a honey-rich sound. "Vaapad masters come once a generation, but there are several Djem So practitioners aboard the Wheel. With Serena's blessing, of course, I'd be honored to assist in your training."

The preacher tipped back the last of his wine - it really was an excellent choice.

[Serena Laran]

Soon enough, or not soon enough, depending on your point of view, they were underway. Morgan was babysitting the Portal Delta, and Serena was watching him intently.

"Are you sure we will make it?" She tried not to sound worried, but a bit of the emotion leaked through her calm facade.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Our worst case scenario is it decides to crash, which means I'll have to reboot it. But I made some modifications to the software, and the wibbly wobbly bits seem to be behaving. It's not going to leave us stranded, just maybe waiting a little longer than normal for jump calculations."

"There isn't anything in our cargo that is worrisome, right?" Morgan knew what Serena had, but hadn't bothered to go through Solomon's things.

Sol shook his head. "Not unless you count books, food and medical supplies."

The Portal Delta seemed to find this satisfactory, and bleeped that it had finished a jump solution. A green light flashed on Serena's console. She steeled herself with a deep breath, and pulled the lever for the hyperdrive. Space shifted. Stars became lines which gave way to the signature blue swirl.

Dhomnda A'lainn was only four hours out, but Morgan was hungry again.

"I'm gonna go eat. Anyone want anything?" He said as he stood.

[Rev Solomon]

"Oh, nothing for me, thanks." Solomon glanced Serena's way, and she simply shook her head. Morgan's prodigious metabolism was a force all its own.

After the padawan had loped off to the galley, Solomon and Serena were left alone with the low hum of the hyperdrive for company, neither one quite sure what to do with the moment of solitude.

"So," Solomon said, "just like old times?"

He leaned against one of the exam tables, just enough to take the weight off his legs. It was plain to see Serena had something on her mind. "A decicred for your thoughts?"

[Serena Laran]

She laughed softly at his comment, and then sighed. "I cannot believe I am going back. When I left... I was sure I would never see the planet again." Serena folded some blankets to tuck into the compartments in the bulkhead.

She looked at him, and added, "Speaking of things I never thought I'd see again..."

[Rev Solomon]

Why did that look make him feel twenty-one again? Force, he'd been a callow, clumsy gundark at that age.

"I've been thinking about that, actually," he said. "Quite a lot. You know, during the Clone Wars, we risked our lives together on two separate occasions... once under, well... some rather unusual influences. We were, what, nineteen? Twenty years old? That can make a big impression on a mind that young."

[Serena Laran]

She hadn't spent every waking moment since she'd heard he'd died replaying the events that had taken place in the cave, but she had thought about it from time to time over the years. All sorts of justifications and rationalizing of the facts had taken place between her ears, and she had distilled her relationship with Sol down to its basic foundation blocks.

Now - was he trying to tell her it had all been a mistake? They were young. Under the influence of psychotropic pollen. Life threatening circumstances. They barely knew each other.

The young did tend toward hasty attachments - Morgan and Rhianna were evidence of that. Serena had been quick and decisive when she had cautioned them against the folly of a romantic relationship during their training. She'd been where they were and knew the pain of losing the one you love. Such a hurt could drag one to the Dark side, as it nearly had her during those first nights in exile.

All this went through her head in a few seconds, and she smiled, though a barely understood disappointment tried to twist the corners of her mouth downward. "I well remember. Certainly we... were very young."

Serena concentrated on re-folding a blanket she'd been clutching in her hands, trying to get the creased just right.

[Rev Solomon]

He didn't need the help of the Force to see the effect his words had on her. He felt guilty and at the same time, in a twisted, selfish way, flattered that her feelings ran so deep.

Solomon crossed the bay toward her and gently laid a hand on her shoulder. "Serena..." There was a gentle rebuke in his voice, but he was smiling. "I'm not dismissing what we had together. Why, at the time, I was prepared to--"

She'd looked up suddenly to meet his eyes, and his words ran out and left him dangling, like those old holovids where a character would run out over a cliff and not notice until he looked down.

"I was prepared to court you in secret," he said at whisper. "To try and make good on what you'd given me."

Even saying that much made the blood pound in his ears.

[Serena Laran]

His hand on her shoulder suddenly felt like it was burning her, and Serena stepped back, only to bump awkwardly into the bulkhead. "And I... I was..." Her voice trailed off, the folded blanket pinned against her body as she crossed her arms in front of her. "I thought you were dead," she ended listlessly.

"I thought the Force had brought us together," Serena continued, her voice barely above a whisper and refusing to meet Sol's eyes. "But all this time... perhaps it was trying to keep us apart." Her lips hardened into a line, and she shook her head suddenly. "But to see you again, it does not feel like an accident. I saw you and it was as though no time had passed at all."

Serena felt vulnerable standing there in front of him, gripping the blanket tightly as she hugged it to herself as though it were a sheet of duraplast armor. "I do not know what to do."

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon brought his hand back down to his side. He didn't try to close the distance between them again. Her confusion was enough to speak for both of them.

"I don't either," he confessed, and he let out a deep, weary breath. "We can't ignore what happened thirty years ago. But we can't ignore the thirty years, either. I think..."

He dropped his eyes to the deck, then slowly lifted them to Serena's again. "Falling in love is a game for the young. At this stage of my life, given the choice I think I'd rather grow into it. We're different people, Serena. Let's get to know each other again. We don't have masters or councilors looking over our shoulders anymore."

He smiled. "And I still haven't had that nerfsteak dinner."

[Serena Laran]

She looked up at him and nodded, feeling firm deck plating beneath her feet again. "I would like that. Very much."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan, meanwhile, was three wrappers into ration bars. Not tasty, but needed. He'd programmed his datapad to remote monitor the ship, especially the infamous Portal Delta.

Morgan scrolled through the last diagnostic report while he chewed, looking for any discrepancies. He found none, and grinned. The thing was gonna work. His mind drifted back to the food, and wondered what some of the food Rhianna had mentioned. He'd have to ask Serena.

"I want a nerfsteak." Morgan agreed.

"Good news everyone: everything is working according to spec." He held the datapad aloft and tapped the center for emphasis.

"I have questions about the edibility of flora and fauna. As in I would love to try some of the things Rhinna mentioned." Morgan and Serena dove into the details of the various foods. More than once Morgan had to chew on a ration bar to keep his head straight, or at least to stop the drool from exiting his mouth. The conversation wandered into other planetary details, and then the proximity alarm went off.

The trio headed to the cockpit, with Serena at the helm and Morgan at the navigation station. Saul took a seat and put on a comm set. Dhomnda A'lainn drifted into view. Morgan whistle appreciatively.

"Wow." Morgan said, with a degree of reverence for something so stunning. The deep blues and greens topped with grey and white clouds that glinted against the sunlight. Serena smiled. It was a few minutes before the Imperials noticed a vessel on their scopes.

"Imperial control to unknown vessel, state your business." The comm officer on the other end sounded less than happy about doing their job.

[Rev Solomon]

"I'll handle this," Solomon said, leaning over the panel. His finger hovered a moment over the transceiver switch as he threw a look Serena's way. "Gaoth agus Domhain? Am I pronouncing it right? Okay."

With the channel open, he replied in a booming voice, "Grace and peace be upon you, brother. This is the missionary vessel Gaoth agus Domhain on official business of the Faith. We are transmitting our credentials now."

With a flurry of keystrokes, Morgan sent the identification certificate he had prepared for the trip, along with the electronic code for Solomon's missionary license. They waited in terse silence as the Imperial control tower processed the transmission.

"What cargo are you carrying, er, Geth aegis... missionary vessel?"

"We carry the light of salvation," Solomon said. "And also food and medical supplies for the indigenous people of RX-271, so we may share with them the blessings of God."

"We'll have to inspect all materials you're transporting to the surface so we can collect the appropriate import tax."

Solomon caught Serena's eyes and immediately knew this wasn't part of the plan. A minuscule Imperial base with a token garrison collecting an import tax on a world they held merely as a formality? It wasn't hard to figure out whose pockets were lined in that transaction.

"There may be a misunderstanding here, brother," Solomon said. "To my recollection, humanitarian aid is still untaxable in this sector."

"Those are our orders, missionary vessel. Submit to our inspections or you will be fired upon."

Solomon folded his arms. "If those are your orders, control, we will abide by them. I would hate to think you were being dishonest, as usury is an abomination to the Lord. I must be misinformed. Why don't I send an inquiry to Bishop Petros? Moff Variss is in his parish, I'm sure he'll be able to clear this up."

The channel closed abruptly. Solomon took the time to admire a range of mountains on Dhomnda A'lainn's western horizon.

The control tower returned with a click. "Control to missionary vessel. Er... disregard prior orders. You may proceed to your destination."

Solomon smiled. "Thank you, control. Peace be with you." He reached down to shut off the comm.

[Serena Laran]

Serena felt an unusual stab of fear when the Imperial's voice had filled the cockpit, and was glad that Sol had taken control of the conversation with the base. She lightly closed her eyes and concentrated on her breathing, banishing the fear and welcoming peace. Since her incarceration the customary calm she usually lived with had become hard to hold on to.

She opened her eyes as the dialogue ended and smiled. "That was well done, Sol." She eased the freighter closer to the atmosphere, piercing the air with the bulky ship and heading toward their destination, a caer near the northern edge of the Cos Bhriste mountains. It was a good distance from the garrison, and one not easily traveled by speeder bike.

"I am not certain how to set the ship down on the surface," she said to Morgan. "Perhaps you..?"

[Morgan Evanar]

"I could, I guess." Morgan had never flown something this big, but he had already memorized the manual.

"Its like any other cargo ship. You get close to the ground, pop the landing gear, and ease her down." He stood, and pointed to a large switch that was set to "F" but could be toggled to "L".

"That's the landing mode toggle. It will try to keep the ship flat. Instead of pitching up and down, the yoke will move it forward and back, and side to side. The foot pedals will rotate the ship. Throttle lowers or raises the ship." Morgan explained.

Serena seemed to take a moment to consider if she wanted to try it, and then flipped the switch. She guided the freighter into a large clearing, with plenty of space to set down. It wasn't level, but a gentle grade wouldn't hurt anything. Serena held her breath as the ship neared the ground, and exhaled when the landing gear groaned softly as the ship settled into the clearing. Morgan's hands reached up, and flipped several switches in rapid succession, most to off, but he turned a few on. It was the post flight sequence, and would vent some gasses and take others in, along with powering the engines down and setting the powerplant into a low-demand setting.

"I'll explain later." He said with a big grin that made him look a little silly and a bit crazy. Morgan disappeared with a faint pop of air displacement.

"Oh man!" he whooped from the top of the ship. He'd never seen anything like this. He knelt down and knocked gently on the cockpit's canopy and waved at Serena. He found the smell of untouched mountain air intoxicating, and the view was simply awesome. A gentle gust of air blew around the ship, and settled. Morgan laughed, and pointed his face into the sun.

He could hear Serena and Solomon leave the ship.

"This is incredible!" Morgan said, and dashed for the edge of the hull, and hit the ground running after the 5 meter drop.

"I mean, look at this!" He stopped after fifty meters, and flung his arms open.

[Serena Laran]

Serena laughed at her padawan's display, and shook her head. "I never get used to you doing that." She breathed in the pine and wildflowers, walking out toward where Morgan was almost twirling in the knee high grasses.

"You should not be so loud, the aurochs will hear and come looking for their dinner." Serena teased him gently, pulling her shawl up over her shoulders. She'd changed her clothes to a more traditional dress - a plain linen shift covered by a laced up bodice with split skirt attached.

Morgan's enthusiasm was infectious, however, and she turned to look at Sol, her face lit up with a smile. "So, I used to live here."

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon strolled down the gangplank alongside Serena and into the brightness of the day. Wearing his long nerfskin coat and his wide-brimmed hat, he looked far more at home in these pastoral surroundings than he had aboard ship. Even so, the vista was breathtaking. The mountains all around them were a diorama of ridges upon ridges, the nearest crowned with grass, the next with black conifers, the next with bare rock, and the last with snow, hazy in the upper reaches of the breathable atmosphere. On Dantooine, it was the far-flung horizon under an infinite sky; here, the sky and the horizon were one, and you could easily feel a kinship with the clouds.

Solomon turned toward Serena with a bright smile. "I could think of worse places to be exiled. It's beautiful, Serena... like a world frozen in time."

He and Serena stepped out into the tall grass toward Morgan. An insect as long as Solomon's hand leapt out their path and glided away on fluttering, black wings.

"So, what's our first order of business?" the preacher asked. "Look for the caves, or for the people?"

[Rhianna]

Elsewhere on Dhomanda A'lainn

Rhianna had always known that she would come home. She had not expected it to be so soon, but when the Abhairt Saoil chose to speak to her, she would choose to listen. The dreams drove her on her path. It was not that Rhianna wanted to abandon her Jedi training, in fact she was firmly resolved to return to it, but she could not ignore what her heart was telling her. Her brother was still alive, and he needed her.

For many months now she had been home, traveling on foot through the wilds of her native land. Arriving alone, the Tincéir Jedi padawan had first tracked the movements of what was left of her clann, following the subtle traces they had left behind on the land. An occasional footprint along a game trail. The evidence of a fire, a ring scorched into the ground. Her kin had left their winter dwelling, caves of the Cos Bhriste range and were now following the paths of their game toward the great rivers of the planet as the spiral of life turned over, spring returning to the land.

It had not taken long to catch up with them once she knew where they were headed. The sister of their chieftain had been welcomed home with open arms, a tearful heartfelt event marked with sadness when she saw for herself how the Empire had caused the numbers of the Tincéir to dwindle. Meeting with the clann elders, she told them where she had been, and what she had learned with the Banfáith, Serena. The Coimhthíochs, the strangers as her family called them, were the Imperial troops that were sent to rape and pillage the land for resources. She was told that after the raid that had nearly claimed her own life, the coimhthíochs had dragged off the body of her older brother, though some of the Tincéir had seen him since. He was with them at their immobile home, their base. They were making him work, along with a number of the younger, stronger men of the clann. Slave labor for the Empire.

And from the time she had heard this news, Rhianna had spent her days and nights learning the movements of the Imperial guards. Watching them build additions to their base. Watched the coming and going of transport ships bringing troops and machines to the formerly peaceful land, but so far she had not seen her brother..

High above the base in the shelter of a tree, Rhianna sat with her back against the trunk, her long legs crossed at the ankle atop the branch she rested on. With a bow slung across her back along with a quiver of strong and true arrows, she listened to the sounds of her homeworld, letting the serenity settle into her bones as she prayed to the Abhairt Saoil for guidance and aid.

[Morgan Evanar]

The lanky Jedi trotted back to Serena and Sol.

"Lets eat an auroch." Morgan suggested, hopeful, but not entirely serious. If they ate these grasses, they would be delicious.

"Maybe later." Serena laughed.

[Serena Laran]

"They're a little big," she added, then considered her padawan's appetite. "Perhaps they're perfectly portioned for you, Morgan."

She turned her head to the west, away from the nearest mountains, and saw Sol and Morgan do the same, sensing a group of lifeforms approaching them. "Capall," she said quietly, "With gaiscíoch. Caer Ainmire's war band approaches. They would have tracked the ship in the sky."

Serena folded her hands calmly in front of her, her shawl tucked into her elbows against the breeze. "Make no aggressive movements."

The hooves of the capall became audible and then loud as the group of twenty or so beasts came out of the forest to the west, each sleek animal carrying a half naked warrior. They were adorned in their blue paint and carrying their spears, copper torcs gleaming at their throats.

[Rev Solomon]

They were an intimidating lot, but Solomon observed Serena's reaction and assumed a similarly unperturbed posture. He squinted into the brightness of the afternoon sun and set his hands against his hips as the warriors approached on beasts that strutted with more pomp and pride than a Grand Admiral.

[Rhianna]

Remaining where she was for most of the day gave her time to work with her hands. By the time the sun's light was high in the sky, she had stripped the bark entirely from a sturdy branch. When stood upright it would be shoulder high to her body's stature. As she continued smoothing one end of the branch against the tree, a curious bird flitted close to her claiming a piece of the discarded bark for it's nest somewhere. She smiled and continued working.

When it came back a second time, Rhianna stopped working and whispered to it in her native tongue. "A good friend would trade something, you know.." The little bird shook it's head ruffling it's feathers about in agitation, but as it flew off with another piece of bark, it left behind a single spotted tail feather. "Thank you for the trade, little one."

Rhianna picked the feather up and turned it in the light, admiring the play of colors. After tearing a strip of leather off the soft Tincéir-leather armor skirt she wore, she attached the feather to 'the business end' of what was going to become a worthy staff in time. She had not fought with one since leaving her home so long ago, but it was not something she would have easily forgotten either. The weapon was no defense for a blaster shot through the chest, as she had learned the hard way, but it was infinitely more civilized.

A call on the wind drew her attention. Rather like one of the native fabhcún calls, a crafty bird of prey. This one was from a man, and it was a signal to her. With years of tree climbing to make her descent look effortless, Rhianna made her way gracefully down the tree, dropping soundlessly to booted feet. Taking the staff with her, she made her way to the call. One of the Elders.

The Elders... Aside from small children and the sick or feeble, the Elders were the only strength left to her people. The strong and able had been taken from this tribe to work for the Imperial troops. A capal-monuted elderly man met Rhianna in a stand of trees, tossing her a sack of food as she approached. "From the people.. ", he told her. She nodded her thanks and told him that she had still not laid eyes on their chieftain, but that she was beginning to get a feel for the movements of the troops. She had the beginnings of a plan to infiltrate the base if no other option became available. Still, she kept hoping she would spot her brother and be able to communicate with him somehow..

[Morgan Evanar]

"Huh." Morgan managed quietly. Most of it seemed to be for show, but those spears looked rather sharp, and had enough heft to punch through tough hide. Morgan kept his hands at his side. He looked pretty much like any other spacer, with a jacket and pants. While he was familiar enough with the language, he had no clue what the protocol was. He had never discussed this scenario with Rhianna.

They looked a little less than friendly. Morgan suspected Serena could assuage their fears, partly by talking in their native tongue, and partly by being Serena.

[Serena Laran]

Serena walked slowly toward the war band, holding her hands out to the side, palms open and empty to show she carried no weapon. Once that had been established she adjusted her shawl again, tucking the ends into the simple leather belt she wore. "We are peaceful," she said in their native tongue. "We mean The Chosen People no harm."

The war leader of the band, set apart by a gleaming silver torc and matching arm bands that were intricately etched with scrolling artwork, urged his mount forward, the capall snorting and dancing nimbly in the long grass. "Sámh?"

She raised her eyebrows, and nodded simply.

He lifted his spear in a salute, calling to his men, "The Banfaith has returned!" and unexpectedly dismounted. "Come, you must come to Caer Ainmire. My father will want to greet you. Bring your companions."

Serena cocked her head a bit to the left, and replied, "Prince Aodhán?" He had grown considerably since she had last visited the caer of the high lord.

He beamed, a bit of the boy he had been breaking through the warrior's stern countenance. "The very same. Come! We will give you mounts," and he turned and snapped his fingers, warriors slowly dismounting from some of the capall and leading their animals forward.

She shook her head, "We would not take your capall from your war band, but you honor me with your offer. We will walk to the Caer. It is not far."

"Far enough," Aodhán said, but said a word and the capall were mounted again by their rightful owners. However, he handed the reins of his beast to his lieutenant, a strapping man with a shock of auburn hair and a bushy red beard. "I will walk with you as well, Banfaith, and present you to Lord Dermod myself."

Serena inclined her head respectfully, not about to refuse such an offer. She turned and quietly explained the conversation to her companions while Prince Aodhán sent off the war band, no doubt hunting for aurochs or patrolling their borders against rival clans, and most likely both at the same time.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon almost didn't need the translation from Serena. The young warrior was demonstrative in his joy at seeing her, expressive in the way of cultures that still wear their passions on their sleeves. As an old warrior himself, Solomon understood that. These men would be perilous foes in battle - he had no doubt of that.

"If we're heading to their village, we ought to bring some of our supplies," the preacher said. "Present them a gift in return for their hospitality. I'll go load up a hover sled."

Stacking a few cases of food and medical supplies would be the work of minutes.

[Morgan Evanar]

"I'll give you a hand." Morgan said. Serena nodded, and the pair came back with the sled carefully loaded with supplies.

Most of the conversation on the journey over was dominated by Serena and the Prince, but Morgan's solid grasp of the language kept him abreast of what was happening. The Empire was being the empire, pretty much: acquire resources, disregard locals. It dawned on Morgan this might end up being more than just a simple trip for lightsaber crystals. He hoped not, but the Imperial policy was less than rational regarding a populace without similar technological might. Armed resistance had a strong chance of making things worse, though, but possibly not. RX-271's resource survey results were middling, which is why there was only a token garrison stationed planet side.

Unlike the descriptions of Rhianna's mobile life, this village had a more permanent feel to it. The roofs were thatched, walls were clay brick, structure was strong wood.

"I don't think I've ever felt this out of place." He remarked.

[Serena Laran]

Serena was causing a bit of a stir among the residents of the caer. As soon as they'd passed through the opening in the wall they started growing an entourage, mostly small children at first. They were loud in their admiration of Solomon's dark skin, the bravest boys daring to touch him before Serena chased them off with a meaningful look.

"This is Caer Ainmire - seat of the High Lord Dermod. The lesser lords of thus area are under his leadership, but that doesn't stop their warbands from testing themselves against each other." Serena gestured ahead to where a more impressive looking building stood - a large and long rectangular hall made of thatch and logs. "In the Hall we will be presented bread and salt, which you must eat. Then we will officially be Lord Dermod's guests and protected by tradition."

The Prince lead them into the dark of the hall after the two men secured the sled outside, smoky torches lighting the interior as best they could. After years under electric lights it seemed unusually dim inside to Serena. The high lord was seated on his wood 'throne' at the far end near a roaring fireplace, eating a meal of meat and mead with several of his friends, old warriors all.

Dermod wore a thick gold torc around his neck, and golden armbands. His beard was full, but trimmed neatly, his hair falling to his shoulders and a silvery grey color in the firelight. Serena bowed with respect for his position, but inwardly she was shocked at how old the man had gotten in the years she had been away.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon followed Serena's lead, content to present himself as part of her entourage. He was amused to be as much a curiosity to the people as they were to him, but until their ceremonial obligations were fulfilled, he planned to follow Serena's lead and simply watch and listen.

He bowed a moment after Serena - nothing fancy, just the traditional gesture as taught by the old Jedi Order. Even after all these years, falling into that role was like slipping on an old pair of shoes.

[Serena Laran]

Serving girls approached with a round of hard crusted brown bread, and a large chunk of cheese, which the visitors partook of, washing it down with mead as offered by another girl. Lord Dermod clapped his hands, and Serena was offered a seat at the table near him, places also made for Solomon and Morgan, although at the far end of the table.

"Welcome Banfaith, come and eat," he boomed. "We thought you had been killed by the Strangers some years back. Where have you been all this time?"

She took the place of honor he offered her, a plate of steaming aurochs meat placed before her that she pulled at with her fingers, the meat tender and coming apart easily. "I was called away to my people, among the stars. Not Strangers, but Jedi. I took an apprentice," Serena nodded down the length of the table to where Morgan was staring wide-eyed at the food he was being presented with by a giggling girl, "And we have come back, in search of something I left behind here."

[Morgan Evanar]

He smelled what was coming well before the actual presentation. Morgan's mouth salivated. Despite this, he waited patiently for others to start eating first, and then engaged in systematic destruction of all food before him. The food was spectacular. Morgan felt like diving head first into it. Each bite was a constant battle between savoring flavor and the urge to shovel it in.
The meal didn't take long, and it was clear that Serena had made strong inroads with Dermod previously, and their standings with one another hadn't changed much.

Morgan gave the girl a pleasant smile when she refilled his flagon of... whatever it was. Delicious.

[Serena Laran]

The meal was not a feast, and no one lingered long afterward. Serena showed Solomon and Morgan around the caer, the trio followed by a lively group of children until dark fell. The visitors were given a place to stay the night, and offers of food and assistance the following day for their trek to the mountains. Serena accepted the first, but gently turned down the second.

The room they were given for the night was small, but adequate for the purpose of sleep. Morgan curled up on a straw pallet in the corner, pulling a few furs over his long frame and was soon snoring. A gift of the young, to be able to sleep easily. Serena lay without sleeping for almost an hour before she was able to find release.

The next morning she and Morgan set off from the caer toward the mountains. Solomon stayed behind to sort out the medical supplies they'd brought, already making friends among the children who were fascinated by his dark skin.

Serena hitched her holdall up on her shoulder and looked over at her padawan. "Excited?"

[Morgan Evanar]

"Yes." he replied, and managed to not sound overly excited.

Hey, lumpy footing. This was sort of new. He'd only been anywhere natural on Vortex for any length of time, and it was comparatively flat. Somewhere buried in his brain was a part that felt this was right. The inclines, the challenging terrain and footing of different textures and grips. There were so many smells, new ones, and oh that bush had a bird in it, ooh something smelled honey-like a quarter mile upwind and hey a noise from the theoretically sexually compatible...

"Let's stop." Oh smell-brain, you are a douchebag. A useful thing, but a douchebag.

They'd been walking for two hours over terrain of moderate to high difficulty. Morgan did "cheat" them up a few difficult cliffs by shimmying up, getting a good look and then teleporting Serena and their packs up. Morgan was ready for a snack, and Serena looked ready for a break. They stopped on a mossy log while sun filtered through the tree line. Morgan dispatched some ration bars in short order while Serena caught her breath.

"It must have been awful to leave this place the way you did. I've never seen anything like it." His voice had a bit of awe in it.

[Serena Laran]

She brushed her hair from her face, tucking the loose strands behind her ear. "It was difficult, but at the same time, not." She smiled a bit, almost wistfully. "I knew I would leave at some point, I saw it and prepared for it. When it came it was a surprise... I was ready, but yes, sad to leave."

Serena lifted her chin in the sunshine, enjoying the mountain breeze. "This place is so alive with the Force. It was very difficult to become used to ships and technology and duracrete again."

She looked at her padawan. "Which are also alive with the Force. Just... different."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan thought about the nature of the Force in nature in comparison to the nature of the Force in things that were distinctly not nature. It wasn't one of those things that came especially easy to him. He wasn't attuned to that aspect of the Force.

"The contrast is startling." Morgan agreed. Vibrant smells and sounds had nearly overstimulated the more basic parts of his brain, used to the near-monotone of industrial solvents and hums. The wind shifted. He paused for a moment, as if he was going to speak. A sweet scent had come across the new wind.

"Hmmm. One second!" He said excitedly and sprinted off toward the smell that was within fifty meters. Small insects flitted about a lumpy structure attached to a tree 6 meters off the ground. Morgan climbed the tree with ease. He took a brief look at the hive and dropped back to the ground, picked up a smallish stick, and scrambled back up. Morgan inserted the stick into the hive, moved it around slowly, and withdrew it. It was coated in an amber goo that smelled strongly of sugar and binding agents. Morgan dropped back to the ground. The insects were on the defensive now, and he had his sample. He gingerly sampled a drop, and grinned ear to ear. He took a long lick, not mindful that the stick had been on the ground a minute prior.

"Serena, I found this goop. It's delicious."

[Serena Laran]

She laughed at his enthusiasm for discovery. "They call that 'goop' mil - it is used for spreading on bread - or sweetening other foods. And they ferment it into the mead we drank last night."

Serena held out her hand and Morgan let her stick her finger in the mil before reclaiming his prize. "The bees - the insects that create it - do not usually share willingly." She sucked the sweet syrup off her finger, and then pushed herself to her feet. "We should keep going. The entrance to the cave system is not too much further."

She turned her head a bit to the west, where from their vantage point they could almost make out where the Imperials had built their base up, bigger and stronger than it used to be. It was more of an impression in the Force, however, rather than an actual visual. Between here and there were the remains of her home, blown up years ago in her escape. It would be nice to visit, but perhaps too painful.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Right." He said, after he took a brief glance toward where Serena's eyes had settled. His connection to the Force was too thin to pick up the echoes past, but he could feel her discomfort. He turned away to focus on the task at hand. The cave system was only ten minutes of a gentle climb further. The entrance was small, from Morgan's perspective. He had to remove his pack and duck as low as he could without ending up on his knees. The cave was dark, but after Morgan blinked, he could see well enough to pick up the subtle glint of the cave walls and gentle outlines. He pulled out a small hand torch. The rock was different colors on different outcroppings, partly a product of minerals and water influenced change.

He heard Serena come in a moment later, and he pointed the torch beam to illuminate the depths of the cave.

"How far does it go?" He asked.

[Serena Laran]

She straightened slowly, minding her head in the cramped entrance. "I honestly do not know. I explored as much as I could as a young woman, but there are places I could not go. Perhaps if I were smaller... some tiny holes led to larger spaces, but I could not fit inside to find out what was there."

Serena reached out, and gently took the flashlight from her padawan's hand, extinguishing it and plunging them into semi-darkness. The only illumination was from the mouth of the cave, and the slant of the sun at this hour was already darkening the mountainside behind them.

"Use the Force," she murmured, holding out her palm and bringing forth a light of her own. Serena walked past Morgan, holding her skirt up with one hand as her soft shoes made little noise on the smooth floor of the cave. Around her the shadows shifted, the clear whitish light she bore bringing out the pale colors of the stone and then she indicated a narrow looking crack at the apparent end of the cavern.

"There's our path."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan followed behind, mindful of his head. There were spots where his extra inches of height were an issue, and when Serena ducked, he was doubly careful. The crack was larger than it first appeared visually, although as Morgan reached out with his sense of placement, it was clear that the crack was far larger than it appeared from the cave entrance. It took two minutes for them to traverse the ground to the crack. There were foot-sized holes that lead deeper into the mountain, and both had to be mindful. Even though the jagged entrance was larger than it looked from a distance, Morgan still had to turn his shoulders to fit through. Once clear, he looked around. The darkness seemed to pull on Serena's small light

"I wonder..." Morgan's sense probed the dimensions of this new, much larger cavern. He was greeted by a spectacular display of color. The rock was Force reactive, and responded with light discharges.

"Huh." Was all he could manage. Serena paused as she remembered the cave layout.

"This way." She said, and lead her padawan to a small offshoot that required both to crawl through on their knees. She handed Morgan her pack and crawled forward, mindful of the skirt. Morgan followed after Serena stood and dragged the two packs in behind him. He handed Serena her pack, and the two continued on. The passage continued upward with a gentle slope, and turned left.

Morgan's sense reached out ahead of them to chart the cave, which gave off the occasional burst of light or color. A massive flash of color erupted from around the corner. He put up a hand to cover his eyes from the intensity of the greens, yellows, and oranges.

When they rounded the left turn the offshoot was almost egg-on it's side-shaped and nearly 10 meters long. It was packed with crystal outcroppings that glowed softly in their presence, but seemed to shimmer with extra intensity when Serena's light touched them.

Morgan whistled softly.

[Serena Laran]

"Be mindful," she said quietly, "At the far end of this cave there is a hole in the floor. It drops down about twelve meters into an underground river."

Serena put her hand on his shoulder, and let her light cease to exist. After a moment their eyes adjusted, and the crystals seemed to glow softly blue all around them. "Phosphorescent algae on the surface of the crystal growths," she said softly. "The damp of the river allows it to grow here, but no where else in the cave system that I could find."

In fact the break in the cave floor that dropped down into the river was clearly visible in the darkness, because the algae grew thicker there. "It can be slimy, but the crystals will be easy to clean once we return to the surface." She settled her pack on the ground and sat on it, taking a deep breath and relaxing.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan nodded, although he knew the exact layout of the local cave now. His thin, flexible shoes had difficulty finding purchase on the algae. He moved carefully. Even though he could seem to be clumsy when distracted, his balance was second to none. Each step was taken with a gentle, measured slip.

He felt drawn to a collection of vibrant orange crystals, so he slip-walked to them. Morgan reached up, his fingers were just short of the outcropping, even on his toes. He squared his feet, and pushed off the ground. His fingers found a piece of the hexagonal crystal, but he had to squeeze as hard as possible to keep a purchase on the stone. He brought his other hand up with a grunt, and grabbed a piece of the outcropping that was pale yellow. With his fingers both lock around the slick crystals, Morgan was able to lift himself closer to the rest of the outcropping. He studied the cluster, not really sure what to make of it, or what he was looking for exactly.

"Wow, these are suprisi..." The crystals Morgan had used as handholds gave way, and he hit the short drop to the ground feet first with more of a shlorp and his shoes slid out from under him. He twisted in mid-air and landed on all fours, the two crystals squishing into each palm.

"Surprisingly strong. Interesting" He finished as he stood. Morgan looked at the translucent rocks in hand. They had a rough outward appearance, but there was a mathematical symmetry that belied their cracked ends. The longer he looked at the two bits of minerals, the more he could see how they would interact in a high-energy environment. He grew lost in the mechano-optical puzzle before him.

[Serena Laran]

She watched him interact with the crystals, the Force strong in the cave as he examined them. "You will need to cut it to a proper shape for it to be able to focus the energy of the lightsaber." Serena stood up, making her way to the side of the cave, running a finger along a particularly large crystal formation.

"I'd forgotten how beautiful it was down here."

[Morgan Evanar]

He nodded absentmindedly at her comment. He knew that the crystals would need to be cut and polished.

"What?" Morgan mumbled as his mind moved away from the mental engineering required for the crystals. He slipped the crystals into a zippered pocket, and closed it. His mind processed her words a moment later.

"It is." he agreed.

[Serena Laran]

She smiled absently, and nodded to him. "If you would create the light for the way out? It is good practice at holding your concentration while being able to do other tasks at the same time."

Serena slowly picked up her pack, feeling a bit mentally exhausted.

[Morgan Evanar]

"I can manage that." Morgan said with conviction, but not total confidence. If it had to be done, he could find a way to do it. He reached out with the Force, not to manipulate, but to examine his surroundings. The walls responded in kind, with splashes of color that shifted as they moved through the area. They carefully worked their way back out of the cave, although a little faster than when they had come in. Morgan's strong spacial sense and memory was an able guide.

[Serena Laran]

Once outside Serena turned to say something to Morgan, but was suddenly struck blind. She froze in place, one hand outstretched for balance, as the Force opened her eyes to another place. Darkness was within it, a place of metal and transparisteel. The hum of engines bent to their work filled her ears, but it was the two cloaked figures before her that held her transfixed. They did not see her, their backs were turned, and she could tell nothing about them except that they were bathed in the Dark side.

She managed to wrench her eyes upward and a large Alliance logo was painted on the bulkhead with indecipherable words beside it. A Rebel ship. With a gasp, as though she had been holding her breath under water, Serena stumbled, going to a knee and finding herself in the sunlight on the mountainside.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan's oversized hands were on Serena before she toppled over completely, although she had managed to catch herself before landing on her face. She had been with him, and then, for a flash, her presence had been somewhere else.

"Are you alright?" He asked. Her face was a mix of confusion and concern. Serena had not processed the event yet.

[Serena Laran]

She shook her head gently, stray hairs from her braid loosening and tickling her face. "I... I had a vision." Serena frowned, troubled. "I cannot say if it was the future or the past I saw."

Dark siders in the Alliance is not the past. She looked up at her padawan, and her lips curled in a soft smile. "I will meditate on it later. Sometimes these things do not make sense at first."

He saw that she did not wish to speak on it further, and simply helped her up to her feet. Some of the excitement of finding the gems had disappeared, but as they returned to the tree line she prompted him to bring them out and view the crystals in the sunlight before it set for the night.

"They are beautiful," she pronounced. "You will craft a fine lightsaber, I am sure of it."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan frowned. Something in the vision had bothered her enough that she needed time to sort it, or it had been bad enough that...

...well, that would be bad. Her words brought Morgan back into the present, though, and he contemplated their physical structures. He lifted them up to the rays on sunshine that flitted through the trees, and noted how they condensed and focused normal sunlight alone. His brain had already figured out where they should be located in the handle he had made, how the focusing was going to work, how they would need to be cut and polished.

"Speaking as someone without any experience, I think these are near perfect." There was a hint of surprise in his voice, but part of him knew it was time he had a lightsaber.

[Serena Laran]

"And then we can start your combat training. Though Sol would be a better teacher than I," she said with a soft smile. "I am adequate, but he is a master of the lightsaber."

Serena picked her way down the slope, feeling more sure footed the farther in the past her vision became. Still, it troubled her - but it was not today's trouble, of that she was sure. Tomorrow, perhaps, or even yesterday, but today they were not going to be affected by what she'd seen.

[Morgan Evanar]

"We'll have to talk to him about it." He agreed.

Morgan smiled a little. It would be good to add another tool to the chest. He used to rely on his speed and strength while fighting, probably more than he should. Adia had taught him more. Like her, he had excellent muscle memory and picked it up quickly. Adia was terrific with a blaster, though. She'd achieved a oneness with the weapon that he doubted he could ever match.

Aided with gravity and improved knowledge of the terrain, they picked their way back down the mountain much faster than up it. When they stopped again for snacks, Morgan spoke.

"I know you're still making sense of that vision, but I know that look you got. It wasn't good news." Morgan said after a swallow and before another bite.

[Serena Laran]

She was nibbling halfheartedly at some nuts, and almost gratefully stopped when her padawan asked his question. Serena looked upward, and took a deep breath. "I saw two dark figures on the bridge of an Alliance vessel. Dark with a capital D, that is. They seemed to be black holes - drinking in any light source and swallowing it."

She met Morgan's eyes, and hers were worried. "Since my time with the Empire I do not know if I can trust the visions that come to me. I feel that this was the Force, showing me this, but perhaps it was not. Maybe it is a residual nightmare from the drugs that were being used on me..."

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan paused in though, his jaws closed with the ration bar between his teeth. He resumed a slow chew. He mulled through the best way to put it.

"I sensed that you were not here for a moment. Not that I know why, but I don't think it was drug induced."

[Serena Laran]

Serena stared off into the trees silently, a ration bar half eaten in her hand. "I think you are right, Morgan. Though it would make me feel better to think that it was, if that makes any sense."

Darkness in the Alliance was not good. Not good for the Rebels and certainly not good for the Jedi. She would need to talk to the Council about this vision when they returned to the Wheel.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Well, one is fiction, the other is real. Fiction's easier." Morgan said.

They were wordless for the rest of the journey, their spirits dampened somewhat by Serena's vision. Even Morgan noted the distant dread. When they arrived at the village, they were greeted.

Morgan was glad the village was still there.

[Serena Laran]

Their reception was much the same as the day before, and Serena allowed herself to be distracted by a horde of children while Morgan and Sol made preparations for their departure. The youngsters' happy faces and cheerful spirits helped clear the trouble from her mind.

After an hour of play she visited the house where Sol had set up the medical supplies they had brought. A handful of women were there whom he had obviously trained on the use of the equipment, and Serena set about working with them. Writing labels for the various medicines and supplies in the native language took a lot of time - she had completed some on the trip to the planet, but she sat down now to write more detailed instructions.

Before she knew it darkness had fallen.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan had helped Serena with the labeling, since he was familiar enough with the language, but he left the instructions to her. He knew the spoken language far better than the written one.

The evening meal that they had upon returning was much more sedate than the one the first night, with simpler fare and quieter conversations. Morgan excused himself after people had started to trickle away, and managed to sneak back to the ship for some equipment to polish the crystals. Sleep wasn't an option at this point, not when he was so close to completing his saber.

[Rev Solomon]

In a mountainous landscape, the morning sun came in fits and starts, building up like water behind a dam until it was high enough to spill over the mountaintops and into the sculpted valleys below. When Solomon woke up, the village was still in shadow, and there was still a chill in the air that made him reach for his nerfhide coat as he rose from his bed. The woman of the family he was staying with was already up and offered him a cup of something spiced and steaming; he drank it, thanked her warmly, and then ventured out into the cool of the morning to find a place to meditate on the Book of the Faith.

He hadn't gone far when he heard Morgan's voice biting off a Nar Shaddan curse from a nearby shed followed by something small and metallic skittering away over a hardened clay floor. The preacher stepped inside and found a tiny capacitor rolling to a stop under the toe of his boot. He called the little component into his hand with the Force and met Morgan's eyes.

"Now, you're either up very early or very late," he said, offering the capacitor back to the padawan.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Late." Morgan said, and sounded a little grumpier than intended. He shook his head and gave Sol an apologetic smile. The older Jedi nodded and handed the tiny capacitor back to him.

"Thanks. I ran into some problems with energy regulation. The handle was going to end up mostly hollow but the charge this pair of crystals hold it'll take double the capacitors. They're each about 3/4 of the size of a regular crystal, well, compared to the sabers I've had a chance to look at. I found the things about a quarter meter apart but they're a matched pair." Morgan shrugged. Sol knew better than he did on how strangely the Force worked its ways. Morgan's fingers began to work again, the smooth practiced movements of an experienced technician that flowed from tool and component to an assembly state and back again. It was very meditative, if not conventionally.

"If you can feed them enough power fast enough in that first millisecond the whole lights up like a tibanna refinery fire. First time I tried it the initial capacitors were so drained it would take a week of trickle-charging for them to chemically stabilize again. Thing is, they're really efficient once you get that jolt in." Morgan stated as he soldered the last capacitor to the power regulation line, soundly part of a sub-assembly that would go into the base of the handle and could be easily removed if something went wrong. Each subsection of the saber neatly snapped into the next one like CEC parts into a YT series freighter. It slid into Morgan's slightly oversized handle, well suited to his oversized hands. Morgan pointed the end away from harm, and flipped the switch. Nothing happened.

"Hahahah. I forgot the power cell." He removed a screw, unscrewed the bottom and slid the power cell home and reassembled it.

"Now that I've made a suitable ass of myself..." Morgan pressed the activation switch. A brilliant golden blade with a tinge of orange lept from the hilt and hummed quietly as the plasma and containment field interacted with the air.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon watched in fascination as Morgan threaded the pieces of his new weapon together. As a rule, he wasn't the most technically inclined, but every Jedi knew how to appreciate the craft and dedication that went into a lightsaber. It was a unique expression of its creator's mind and soul and will. Morgan's was - as could be expected - more ingenuity than art, fashioned with scavenged components and second-hand tools, and yet, like the paired crystals in the focusing chamber, it was so much more than the sum of its parts, a perfect unity of form and function.

"It looks to me like you did just fine," Solomon said with a smile of admiration. "A lot of Padawans would never have attempted a twin-crystal configuration on their first saber. I think you'll find the blade more stable, a little more solid, with a little less spring."

Good for Djem So, was his next thought, but he didn't want to prejudice Morgan away from his master's style.

"It's a beautiful blade. Have you had a chance to test it?"

[Morgan Evanar]

"No, this the first time it worked. I had to redesign the power system last night because of the added start-up draw." Morgan gave the blade an experimental wiggle. Wom wom wom. With the limited space, Morgan gave a careful chop, a careful swing, and then turned the saber off.

"It feels..." Morgan paused, searching for the right word. "...solid." He said, after recalling his brief experiences with other lightsabers.

He offered the deactivated weapon to Sol.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon took the weight of the finished saber in his hand with all the respect it deserved. The scaled-up handle was roughly the same size as his own, but it was lighter without the shockstick attachment Solomon had added to his own saber for the sake of plausible deniability. The balance point was farther forward, too, a better fit for two-handed wielding, and there was plenty of room on the long handle for Morgan to take his choice of grips.

He checked his clearance at the emitter nozzle and ignited the blade. The surge of power was palpable the moment the golden-orange plasma beam hissed to life; he felt it through the palm of his hand and up into his arm to the shoulder. A little too live for his liking, but then for Morgan that kind of feedback could only cement the connection between weapon and wielder.

Solomon extinguished the blade and handed it back to the padawan. "You've done good work," the preacher said. "I'd help you put it through its paces, but I'm sure you're dead on your feet."

[Morgan Evanar]

"I just hit my second wind. I'm good for another 18 hours or so." Morgan explained. Over the years, he'd discovered certainly functional thresholds for his body that were unusual. His ability to stay awake and alert for extended periods were one of the least strange ones. There was a price of a solid 8 hour sleep cycle later, but given the trip back, Morgan knew he would be fine.

"So what are you supposed to do with these things aside from pointing the glowing end at someone else?"

[Rev Solomon]

That brought a smile to Solomon's face. "Oh, it's been a while, but I might remember a thing or two."

Serena was still asleep, but Morgan was able to pass a message on to her host so she'd know where to find them when she woke. A few minutes' walk out from the village took the pair of them to a grassy promontory surrounded on three sides by a valley of lakes and rivers that reflected the morning sky like shards of a mirror. The wind tugged at the hems of Solomon's nerfhide coat as he paced off a level square of grass. "Yes, this'll do nicely."

The preacher turned to face his pupil. "There are seven major forms of lightsaber combat: Shii-Cho, Makashi, Soresu, Ataru, Shien, Niman, and Juyo. Your master is accomplished in Soresu, the Resilience Form, excellent for defense and stability. As a warrior-in-training, I studied both Makashi, the Contention Form, and Djem So, a variant of Shien. But every novice begins with Shii-Cho, the Determination Form, also known as Form I. It is the oldest of the forms, developed from ancient fencing techniques, and it lays the foundation for all the others. Have you ever had any martial arts training before, Morgan?"

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan nodded, recognizing the names from the limited library of documents Serena had given himself and Rhianna. Looking back, it was probably best that they had not engaged in any lightsaber training. There were so few wielders and virtually no one had the Jedi weapons except collectors, and they certainly were not used in combat. It would attract unwanted, dangerous attention for the fledgling Jedi.

"Sure, I had some when I was little, and then from Adia on Vortex. I'm more used to vibroknives and blades than anything of this length."

[Rev Solomon]

"Then you should know that learning a weapon is as much about muscle memory as it is about strength or speed," Solomon replied. "What I'm teaching you today will have to become as natural to you as breathing and walking on two feet. That is, if you hope to keep doing either one. Draw your weapon, but don't ignite it."

He stepped toward Morgan and took some time to position him in the proper stance: a slight crouch, dominant foot held back, shoulder presented to the enemy at an angle, lightsaber held vertically. It was the aptly named "Jedi Ready," the most basic of the opening forms. Solomon circled the padawan, making slight adjustments until he was satisfied.

"There are six zones of the humanoid body," he said. "They all can be attacked, and they all must be defended. Now, before you learn to strike you need to learn to parry, so that's what we'll work on first. Zone number one is the head..."

The preacher brought his hand down in a cleaving motion toward the center of Morgan's forehead. "A zone one attack is a vertical strike through the head or shoulders. To block it, you raise your blade to one side and hold it horizontally."

Solomon placed his hands on Morgan's and raised his weapon into position. The blade, if it were active, would describe a horizontal ray just above his eye level.

"Good. Now, return to ready. Zone two is your right arm and side. Zone three is your left. For most humans, the right will be the the weapon hand. It is the highest achievement in combat for a Jedi to disarm one's opponent without seriously injuring them, or, failing that, without killing them. A strike to zone two or three is horizontal at the level of your body. You block to either side with a vertical blade."

The ready stance was already a zone two parry. Once Solomon was satisfied with Morgan's movements from side to side, he took a step back and drew his own saber.

"Now, ignite your weapon."

Solomon's blade hummed to life, a brilliant streak of ice-blue.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan took a deep breath, switched his blade on, and exhaled. Something in the ancient, tens of millennia old ritual art daunted him. He pushed his awe and minor intimidation of the art aside, and waited for Sol to move. The older Jedi paused for a moment, evaluating Morgan with his blade as a single, new entity.

"One." Sol called out, and brought the saber down toward Morgan's head. Confident in Sol's control, but aware of the danger presented by the weapon, Morgan brought his own saber up. He lifted his arms and rotated his forearms a fluid motion that would provide good protection if Sol had altered the angle of the blow. The energy blades met with a hiss and crackle. Sol withdrew, and Morgan reset his stance. Instead of watching Sol's eyes or blade, he watched his upper chest, where Sol's movement would stem from.

"Two." The blue blade moved a touch faster. Morgan rotated his body and footing to counter. His saber was vertical between himself and Sol's. The blades met with a breath more force.

"Three." Sol said. He didn't wait for Morgan to reset his footing, but the Padawan's saber and stance slid smoothly into the correct block. While part of Morgan wanted to counter, he recognized the poise of an experienced practitioner of a martial art. The only press he could offer would come from his strength and speed. He returned to postion, and awaited the next lesson.

[Rev Solomon]

There wasn't a flicker of approval or disapproval on Solomon's face, not even the sheen of concentration. His expression was relaxed, even meditative. The strikes came more quickly.

"One. Three. Two. Three. One. One. Two."

Each time Morgan moved appropriately, gaining confidence and fluidity with each repetition. And then, the moment Solomon sensed the slightest spark of boredom, he threw Morgan a spanner.

"Five."

Solomon's blade bounced off of Morgan's leftside parry and arced back around before sweeping down toward the Padawan's right knee.

[Morgan Evanar]

Five? What? What's a five? Morgan's mind raced. It managed to deduce that it was referencing one of his legs, and began to draw up solutions to this new dilemma. However, his body moved mostly on it's own. Since it lacked any preconceived notions on what to do, it did the most logical thing and took a quick step back to remove the knee from impending danger. The blade hummed by.

"So five is my right leg?" He asked, vision unwavering from Sol's core, his stance a simple mirror of the Jedi Ready it was moments ago.

[Rev Solomon]

At last Solomon smiled. His blade had stopped inches from where Morgan's leg had just been.

"That's right," he said. "Zone five is the right leg, zone six is the left. Don't worry about four, we'll get there in a minute. A lower-zone attack is a leg sweep to either side. To block it, you need to perform what's known as a drop parry."

Solomon held his blade upright in front of him in a one-handed grip and then, with a twist of his wrist and elbow, let the blade swing downward like the arm of a windmill so its point singed the grass at his feet.

"When your enemy strikes low, always drop your blade to the opposite side. If he goes for your right leg, you block him from the left. Never chase him. If you had swung straight down at my blade, you would have landed on top of it and pushed it straight through your own leg. It's a rookie mistake that no one ever makes twice."

[Morgan Evanar]

"That makes sense. You'll keep your balance better, too." Morgan observed, and wondered how well he could heal from a saber burn. Morgan mimicked Sol's motion, then mirrored it, and then did it once with each hand before his body returned to the Jedi Ready.

"Six." Sol attacked with the same precision and marvelous fluidity he had the entire exercise. Morgan's movements were not as fluid, but they were crisp and precise with little wasted motion. It was obvious to the Jedi Knight that Morgan had speed to spare.

"Two, one, three, five." Sol attacked while Morgan kept his movements uniform, each blow cleanly deflected. The adrenaline began to flow, and part of Morgan's brain craved harder, faster. It wanted to counter-attack, but it also boasted that it could keep this up all day.

[Rev Solomon]

Morgan's rate of acquisition was impressive, and it was tempting to push him on, to skim through the next several lessons and really put his mind to work, but Solomon resisted the urge. It wasn't just about knowing the parries. It was getting used to all the transitions between them, one to five, five to two, two to six, six, to one again. The only way to train reflexes was by rote. Every repetition was a down payment on future reaction times.

After another ten minutes of drills, Solomon began calling out sequences of three or four strikes at a time. Morgan didn't know it yet, but these were some of the rudimentary velocities - chains of maneuvers practiced in sequence to improve balance and flow. Now the pace increased, and even in the cool of the morning, both men developed a sheen of sweat on their foreheads.

Finally Solomon stepped away, doused his blade, and offered Morgan a canteen. He took a few mouthfuls of water from his own before returning to the lesson.

"Now, zone four," he said. "Zone four is your back. The best way to protect your back is to keep your enemy from getting behind you. But if you must defend a strike from the back, the fastest way is with a drop parry over either shoulder."

He turned around and demonstrated with his own saber.

"A successful zone four parry requires a thorough awareness of your surroundings and, more often than not, a keen sense of the Force. We won't be going there today, but eventually you'll need to be able to defend all six of your body zones blindfolded."

[Morgan Evanar]

"I can do that already. The blindfolded part. Because of the teleportation, I have to be able to perceive exactly where I'm going to end up." Morgan explained. His natural senses, while keen compared to a human, paled in comparison to his spacial awareness through the Force. It was his strongest ability.

"If you want, I'll wrap my shirt around my head." He offered.

[Rev Solomon]

"Well, I'd hate for you to miss out on the joys of getting shot by a remote," Solomon said with a wry grin. Admittedly, he couldn't help but feel a little envy on behalf of his own ten-year-old self if Morgan already had a leg up on that exercise. It just wasn't novice saber training if you didn't come away with a few blaster welts.

"All right, then, let's give it a try."

Solomon waited as Morgan blindfolded himself and settled back into Jedi Ready. This was where the art of the lightsaber diverged from mere swordplay, where the numbers and names gave way to perfect unity: the Jedi, the weapon, and the Force, all flowing in an unbroken circle.

The preacher took his stance and ignited his saber. "We'll begin now."

[Morgan Evanar]

In some ways, it was easier to see Sol now. Morgan couldn't sense his aura in the Force the way other Jedi could, but he could feel the space that he displaced clearly. Sol's mass, his motion were all clear to Morgan. He ignited his own saber. Sol began to move around him. Morgan tracked him as if he could see him clean through the blindfold, his blade kept between himself and his adversary. Sol attacked, this time with no announcement as to his intent.

Morgan blocked the overhead blow that was transitioned into a thrust toward Morgan's left midsection. Morgan sidestepped and performed a traditional left block, pushing Sol's blade away from his midsection. Sol countered with a low spin right. Morgan's blade rotated and dipped. Sol continually tested Morgan for the next five minutes. Morgan's nostrils began to flare, and he began to fight the urge to counter-attack again as the adrenaline started to flow under Sol's fury. After another three minutes of rapid-fire attack, Morgan's discipline broke.

[Rev Solomon]

Had the drill been an honest-to-goodness spar, Solomon's reaction would have been faster - as it was, he was a split-second late in recognizing that Morgan had gone on the offensive, and he had to stumble backwards as he twisted his saber around to intercept the Padawan's blade swooping in at his left side.

Solomon stepped out of Morgan's range with a look of stormy disapproval. "Extinguish your weapon," he ordered.

[Serena Laran]

Serena woke late, the sun already over the mountains and most of the women of the clan setting about their morning chores. A gaggle of children followed her as she had a late breakfast, and one carefully informed her of where Sol and Morgan had gone. Their eyes were intensely curious, but she told them to stay with their mothers and siblings as she made her way out of the caer.

They had found a good place for practice - off the beaten path and out of site of the caer, in a clearing surrounded on three sides by water and one by trees. Unwilling to interrupt, especially since the drills Sol was putting her padawan through were dangerous even if one's concentration did not slip, Serena leaned against a rough tree trunk and observed quietly.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan blinked, and turned the saber off immediately. He pulled the shirt off his head to confirm what he saw through Force was what his eyes would see.

No disparity there. A flood of understanding hit Morgan. He felt very much the ogre.

"I'm sorry Sol. I can't remember the last time I had that much adrenaline. Not since Nar Shadda, in a street fight." He looked up at Sol, his eyes dilated just below the point of discomfort. Bright green rimmed a rather reflective black pupil. His entire body was flush with a fresh blood supply, thanks to a similar mechanism that a kath hound used to allow it's platelets to carry more oxygen. Morgan's fingers flexed, and he forced them back open. There was obviously a battle being waged between his body and his mind. His body very much wanted to hit something.

"It won't happen again." He said, but wasn't sure if it meant anything to Sol at this point.

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon nodded slowly, and he let his own blade swing down toward the ground before extinguishing it. "I let myself get carried away," he admitted. "I was pushing you too hard, trying to find your boundaries. I think I just found them."

The preacher could sense Serena's eyes on them without even looking back over his shoulder to her perch. He was embarrassed to have been caught in a blunder by Morgan's master, but the important thing was that the lesson was not lost.

"At this stage of your training, discipline and consistency are more important than speed," he said. "Until you have complete command of your weapon, a lightsaber is more dangerous to you than to your enemy. If I hadn't started with a training saber as a kid, well, I'd have wound up with several fewer limbs."

He looked over Morgan's shoulder and charted the sun's progress through the eastern sky. At last his face softened.

"You've done well for your first day. Anything you'd care to add, Serena?"

[Serena Laran]

"No, I think you covered it." She pushed away from the tree with a smile. "I see you completed your lightsaber, Morgan."

Serena put her hand out, "May I see it?"

[Morgan Evanar]

"Sure." Morgan said, his breath had become almost normal. He handed Serena the saber. It looked more like a part of a military speeder bike or a plasma cutter than a refined Jedi weapon, but there was care and precision in it's construction. It was noticeably larger around and longer than Serena's own weapon, and, as observed by Sol, would either accommodate one or both of Morgan's oversized hands. It was a somewhat heavy weapon, even for it's size. The rubberized outer casing was a heavy gauge durasteel. There were only two outward controls: a dial to adjust the blade diameter and a toggle for power. Aside from the blade emitter, blade adjustment and the power button, there were no exposed items save a thumb screw on the bottom. Once that was removed, the end cap covering the power supply could be screwed off.

"The thumb screw that holds the power cell in is also the disassembly tool." Morgan explained. He'd cut and welded a hex key onto the end of the thumb screw. Every other screw used in the saber's construction was standardized to the hex key.

[Serena Laran]

"Solid construction," Serena said, pleased. "You made good use of the plans in the database, but modified it to be unique to your needs."

She balanced the hilt on the palm of her hand, then closed her fingers around it and ignited the blade. "You have done very well, Morgan." She disengaged the blade and flipped the hilt around, handing the lightsaber back to her padawan. "I did not expect you to have it completed so soon."

He was growing with leaps and bounds, and part of her was proud - but another part worried that too much power gotten too quickly could corrupt. There was a reason that children had come to the Jedi as infants. If one was considered too old to begin the training... well the last Jedi to join as an older child had been Anakin Skywalker. Enough said.

Morgan had joined as a young man, and although she had been training him for years now she could not help but worry that she had chosen to do the wrong thing. Better to leave the young man as an untapped adept than raise up the next Dark Lord of the Sith. The memory of her vision from the day before made her mouth a little dry, but Serena smiled at Sol. "You are a great teacher, Sol. Have you considered taking a padawan of your own?"

[Rev Solomon]

Solomon gave a wan smile, humbled by the compliment. "The Council might have a thing or two to say about that, given my, well... eccentric view of the Force. But, yes. I'd always wanted to, from the moment Master Tau chose me. Morgan's done well. He's a credit to his master."

He turned his smile toward Morgan and holstered his lightsaber. "Serena's more than capable of taking you through Shii-Cho, but I'll be happy to teach you again if she'll allow it. Keep working your parries, and next time I'll show you how to hit things."