Wow, the Old Neighborhood Really Went to Hell.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

In the span of only a few days, Halajiin Rabeak had gone from hot-shot young Jedi Knight famous for his takedown of the Melestrei crime syndicate and the proud owner of a wonderful little apartment at the Jedi Order on Coruscant, complete with a fine kitchenette, to a homeless, displaced fugitive from an enemy he'd never met. All in all, he'd had worse weeks, but he was hard-pressed to remember just when.

He'd been told he was frozen in carbonite for one hundred and seven years, all that time drifting through space on a ruined vessel. He'd been told that Coruscant was now the home of the Galactic Empire, which had overthrown the senate and declared dominion over what was once a fantastically bureaucratic republic in which he had many lovely stamps in his passport - which he was now told was a valuable collectors item. He'd also been told that any Jedi caught by the Empire was as good as dead, but worst of all, absolutely worst of all, was that he'd learned that his own race had been disgraced to the point that it was rare to even run across a Nehantite off-world, now.

Okay, so maybe it was the worst week ever. His brain told him.

Yeah, really can't argue with that. I was totally going to score with those Twilek twins, too. His base natures kicked in.

Dude, they were the boss's daughters. You would have been dead before you got it wet.

But they were into me! Screw their dad!

Ugh, no thanks, I'll leave that to you.

Gah! That's not what I meant, and you know it!

I know you're in a lot of trouble, now, if you don't get your act together. You're probably a legend to these Jedi, by now; the great hope of a Jedi from days long past, ready to lead them into the future and save the galaxy!

And you think I have unrealistic ambitions.

You wanted to bone Miss October while driving a topless Fjerrajriii speeder though rings of lightning-fire.

A guy's got to have dreams, doesn't he? Your dream was for me to learn how to speak Wookiee.

And what's wrong with that?

Have you seen Wookiee females? They look just like the males, and... no. Just no.

I think your escort is arriving.

Crap. Yeah, looks that way. Think we're ready for this, or are you going to shut down again because you just "can't handle the overload?"

You shut down when you've got too much pain. I think that's weaker than dealing with too much information, but I think we should be good. Still, just in case I go down again, try not to drool.

I can't promise that if there's good food.

You know what I mean.

Seriously, I'm so hungry I could eat a whole nerf.

Hal's appetite would have to wait, however, as he stepped out of the docking arm and into the Whalodon proper. It was a huge ship, though dwarfed by the Challenger which flanked her, and thanks to her size Hal felt much more planted than when he'd been aboard the Novgorod or the Skipper. Still, the Nehantite's yellow-furred tail flicked with nervous discomfort as he knew that this ship had replaced the majestic and powerful spire which he had known as the Jedi Order. Having heard how far behind the Jedi and the Rebel Alliance were, he wondered if he could even begin to make a dent in the grand scheme of things, especially showing up with just the clothes on his back.

I really need to do some laundry.

Maybe your new quarters will have a laundrette.

It better have a kitchenette, too.

Why do you always have to have a kitchenette? What's wrong with a while kitchen?

Kitchens are for chefs. Kitchenettes are for bachelors. It does enough to keep me fed, and that's all I need.

Fair point.

And it's less I have to clean.

Lazy.

And you know it.

Hal could stall no longer, though. The Whalodon had been informed that he was coming, and as he saw his greeting party drawing closer, the yellow mongoose took a deep breath and only hoped he could make a good first impression on someone who hadn't even been born when he bought his last cup of stimcaff.

[Abarai Loki]

It was a dark time for the Jedi and, by extension, the Rebellion itself. In the shadows there were traitors, there was blood on the walls, and doubt in the most steadfast of hearts. Every man, woman, and child carried the wounds, many below the surface, and they were still fresh, and deep, and raw. The relationship between the Jedi and their military protectors was growing turbulant, and tensions were high. And in the light of a new shocking tragedy, their future was unclear.

Abarai Loki resolved to confront these dark times in the same way he strived to deal with every difficulty in life: to keep calm and carry on. So, he did. His duties were performed to the letter, every day without fail, and if anything about him had changed at all, it was that he attacked his training sessions with a renewed fanatical vigor. There have since been rumblings of an underground padawan support group taking shape.

Introducing new recruits into the secretive Jedi fold was another role he took very seriously, and loathe as he was to be considered some sort of welcoming committee amongst his peers, he felt a great deal of pride in his task. Despite their humble, and somewhat ramshackle, appearance, the Jedi of the Wheel were the descendants of thousands of years of proud heritage, and by embracing the way of their forebears, a Jedi welcomes into his life the way of honour and greatness. And with each new arrival shuffling aboard, their fire burned brighter, bringing them one step closer to the glory days of old.

That said, there was after all a fever of suspicion and paranoia running rife throughout the fleet, and it wouldn't do to be anything but cautious with unfamiliar faces. Loki, dressed in his typical black tunic and white haori, regarded the strange alien with a frown.

"You are the new arrival," he said, with a glance to the datapad in his hand, "Name?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

It's a kid.

Uh, yeah. Weird. You'd think that they'd send, like, a Master or something to come greet you.

No kidding. Maybe he's going to take me to a Master, though. Probably an errand boy.

Could be. In that case, better be on your best behavior.

Really? They send a kid to come greet me? They're gonna get what they get until I'm shown some respect.

You know what? I'm cool with that.

Halajiin straightened his shoulders, realizing just how much taller he was than this boy, and also how much better-dressed the boy was. By comparison, Hal sported a pair of worn and faded Jedi trousers tucked into a pair of well-scuffed and scraped boots which had last seen polish at his knighting ceremony three years earlier. His typical upper robes were gone, leaving only a sleveless and dingy white undershirt to cling to his torso, a mustard stain disgracing the left side of his abdomen. He looked far more like drifter than a Jedi, but deep inside Hal knew what he was.

One eyebrow cocking with mild annoyance, he answered, "They didn't tell you who I am? The Novgorod sent an alert that I was coming." When that failed to elicit a response, he stated, "Halajiin Rabeak, and you are?"

[Abarai Loki]

"The Novgorod instructed us to expect a new recruit, that is all," he said, logging Halajiin's name onto the datapad. Once he was done, he returned his gaze to the shabby alien and clasped his hands neatly behind his back.

"And here you are, Halajiin Rabeak. My name is Abarai Loki. You are now my charge, and I will see to it that you find the transition into your new life efficient and without incident. Follow me."

Loki turned on his heel and swept briskly down the corridor, expecting Halajiin to promptly follow suit.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Oh no he di-unt!

Oh yes he di-id! Dag, yo, you got slammed! You gonna take that from a kid?

Heeeellls no! I'm gonna teach this little ponce a lesson.

Wait! I might have a better idea! Let me go with this, first. If it doesn't work, then you can lay down the smack, or lop some boogie, or whatever it is you do.

Clearing his throat, Hal stood his ground. Tail flicking sharply with irritation, he called out, "Since when does the Jedi Order consider an experienced Knight to be a 'new recruit?'"

Seriously, that was your plan?

Just watch, you'll see.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki paused and took a long calming breath, his shoulders sinking into it. One day. Just one day, things would be simple. And as he turned to face Halajiin, he held fast to that singular desperate hope. His eyebrow attempted to fashion itself into a question mark.

"A Jedi Knight?" he asked, oozing disinterest.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal was resolute, and perhaps more than a touch acerbic as he replied, "Yeah, I am. And as such, I'd appreciate a little respect from a padawan, if it's not too much to ask."

Taking a step forward, he closed the gap between himself and Loki, his tail starting to puff with agitation as it flicked. "I've been a knight for three years, now, and I was the one who took down the Merestri Syndicate," he stated. "I was Master Trevarius's first pupil, I lived in the Jedi Order's Tower on Coruscant, and for the last hundred and fucking seven years I've been a fucking frozen block of fucking carbonite, and I'm really fucking sick of being treated like a nobody! Now take me to the damn Council or point me in the right direction and I'll go there myself!"

[Abarai Loki]

The last fiery note of Halajiin's speech soared, resounding in every treacherous crevice along the way to the turbolift, where it whimpered and died. Loki swam in the silence, allowing it to linger, then with coolest detachment glanced over his shoulder at the empty space behind him.

"Halajiin Rabeak, I must inform you there is something wrong with your eyesight," he said, returning his icy blue gaze, "There are no padawans here."

Suddenly, the datapad snapped out in front of him once more, whereupon the young Jedi commenced his innitial report on the Whaladon's furry new addition.

"I am no physician, but on top of these highly-romantic delusions of grandeur, you also appear to in the middle of a mild psychotic episode."

He took momentary respite from his work to conclude, "It doesn't appear to be your day."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"No, it's not my day," Hal replied, his voice calm as he let his shoulders slump. "It hasn't been my day for a very, very long time."

Over the last four days he had been bombarded by information he couldn't accept. He'd been told that the entire galaxy had changed, that the order he served were now the fugitives from a power he'd never seen. He'd been told that everyone he ever knew was long ago dead, and that no one apparently remembered him or the work he had done. For four days his brain had built up fortifications against this reality, but here, in this massive ship he couldn't shut out the swirling eddies of the Force, nor could he shake his fears that he could never go back home.

There, faced with a boy who held the same iron-faced resolution of his old master, Hal's mind could keep up its defenses no longer, and reality came crashing in as his brain shut down, unable to cope with the sensory overload.

Hal faltered for speech, then for balance before he found his knees going out from under him and he fell back square on his seat, arms trembling as he stared off into nothing.

Brain? Brain, what happened?

Brain?

Brain, you there?

His lower impulses sought guidance, any kind of direction, but there was none to be had. So, unhampered by clever thought or even any form of filter, he spoke in a hollow voice, "It's all really gone. I can feel it. There's so few of us, now."

He paused long enough to wet his dry lips. "They told me it had all changed, but... I didn't believe them. We were strong. We were better than this. How... how could this happen?"

Cradling his face in his paws, Hal's body tried to reach out with the Force to find him any measure of peace, some modicum of comfort to ease the terror now tearing at his very soul. When at last he found a scrap of hope, he looked up to Loki from his seat on the floor, and he pulled a weak smirk.

"You're right, though. There is something wrong with my eyes. This one still only sees in black and white," he pointed to his left eye.

[Abarai Loki]

Over the course of his residency aboard the Whaladon, Loki had greeted many newcomers and seen a great many things, and yet, of all the ways in which recruits had reacted to their new environment, this was undoubtedly the most bizarre. The datapad stowed, Loki crouched beside Halajiin and pressed his middle and index fingers firmly against his neck, after a moment he gave him a grave frown. Then suddenly, with hands deft and surprisingly strong, the young Jedi manouvered his scruffy charge onto his back, and in a dramatic flurry Loki disrobed himself of his haori and draped it over him.

"You are in shock," he confirmed, now knelt at his feet, and with a firm grip on Halajiin's shamefully scuffed boots, he elevated his legs precisely thirty centimeters, "Do not fear, Halajiin Rabeak, I shall show you a breathing technique to aid the recuperative process."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

What the? Whoah!

Hal went down flat on his back before he realized what was going on, but once there, the blood rushed to his brain, snapping it out of its reclusion.

Wait, how'd we get down here?

You conked out, I fell on my ass, and then this kid pushed us over.

He's got our feet?

Yeah, some kind or breathing exercise, he says.

You do remember what happened the last time another male got hold of your feet when you were on your back, right?

Oh hell no! And this one's a kid!

Not quite returned to his senses, but incensed enough to react, Hal yanked his feet from Loki's grasp, then swung his legs up and back to launch himself back to his feet, and immediately he took one very large step back.

Still slightly crouched, his ears lay back and his normally pink eyes flecked red as his adrenalin surged. "Sorry, kid, I'm not that kind of furry," he said, a bite in his voice.

Not that kind of furry? What does that even mean?

Uh... I don't know, it just kinda came out.

How about you let me do the talking, now?

Yeah, you got it.

Easing himself back to a full stand, the Nehantite took several deep breaths, but didn't let his red-flecked eyes stray from the strangely cyan ones of the diminuitive Jedi before him. "I didn't mean to offend you when I thought you were a padawan. But it's very important that I see the Council."

[Abarai Loki]

When his patient righted himself with no shortage of theatricality, Loki was scandalised to see his beloved haori cast off and sent fluttering to the ground like a soiled napkin. He gathered it up promptly, and fixed the suddenly coherent alien with an affronted scowl. There were a host of pressing matters jostling for the young Jedi's attention, but the swish of a thick flaxen tail pushed the more prudent questions to the back of his mind.

"What exactly are you, anyway?" he asked, irritably.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's brow crimped, and he gave Loki an almost insulted sneer. "Seriously? Shit, we're not that rare! I'm a Nehantite."

When that failed to elicit a spark of realization, he sighed and added, "From Nehantish. Most of us out here are mechanics or engineers. Ringing any bells, yet?"

[Abarai Loki]

"No," he answered, behind a mask of indifference.

It was no secret that the vast majority of Loki's existance had been spent in seclusion, training with his master on the remote world of Maridun, and segregated from the corrupting influence of the great wide galaxy. He was proud of his upbringing, and was consequently incapable of acknowledging it as the sole reason for the glaring chasms in his understanding of the world around him. The Nehantite was alien to him in more ways than one, but he was also a stranger, and held no claim to such a confidence. Still, he found himself intrigued by Halajiin in much the same way as he'd been with Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta, except with less patience.

"So, you are unique amongst your people. Trading hydrospanner for the lightsaber," his eyes suddenly narrowed in scrutiny of the Nehantite's tattered clothes, "You do have a lightsaber?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

When questioned about his identity and his abilities as both a man and a Jedi, Hal had no need to argue with himself - he knew the truth.

"We're not all mechanics," he stated, his confidence fully restored. "Like every race, we also have artists, lawyers, builders and doctors. Me, I'm a Jedi, and you bet your ass I've got a lightsaber."

Holding his right paw out at his side, palm facing Loki. In an instant, something shot from its home at the back of his belt and into his grasp. Tarnished silver, with bronze fittings, it desperately needed a good polish, but the leather grip was well-worn and stained from years of use. Angling the emitter down, Hal asked, "Is that enough, or do you require a demonstration, too?"

[Abarai Loki]

The appearance of Halajiin's lightsaber brought about an immediate change in the young Jedi. Hard discriminating features softened into an expression of fierce curiousity. He stepped forward and reached out. The Nehantite's paw was coaxed into the air under the influence of small calloused fingers, bringing his lightsaber level with the youngster's gaze. The weapon was studied with an air of reverence, Loki remained at arm's reach at all times and went about his diligent inspection with bright hungry eyes, crouching, leaning, tilting his head to soak in each feature from every angle. Not once did he attempt to touch it. After a long silence, he stood and regarded Halajiin anew.

"Halajiin Rabeak," he said, with a respectful nod, "Tell me about Master Trevarius."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Just call me Hal," the Nehantite replied.

Easing his lightsaber back into its sleeve along the back of his belt, Hal studied Loki for a short while before he was comfortable enough to continue. If the boy wasn't a padawan, that made him a knight, and if he was a knight at this age, he probably wasn't someone to be trifled with. Either that or the Jedi Order was more desperate than Hal was led to believe.

"Master Trevarius, huh?" he said, a smile working up his muzzle. "Well, he and I don't talk much, anymore. He's always too busy with his new students, and I think he was rather glad to be rid of me when I got promoted."

For Loki, Hal was speaking of a man long ago dead, but Hal had seen Trevarius only a week earlier, and his mind hadn't accepted that so much time had truly passed yet.

"See, he used to be kind of a wild one, always leaping before he looked, and praying that the Force would see him through. Rumor has it they saddled him with me as his first padawan to teach him a lesson, I guess. And, I guess it worked. We were both idiots, then, and it was only through seeing each other's rashness that we figured it out and learned how to focus. In some ways, I'm probably the reason he's such a bastard, now. He doesn't want anyone else screwing up like we did, back then. But I can't fault him for pushing order, control and discipline of thought and action as his favorite subjects. I just hope the same kind of change won't happen to me when I get assigned a student. We sure had fun being reckless as hell, back in the beginning, after all."

[Abarai Loki]

There was a whole lot of what Halajiin said that justified the look of mild confusion creeping onto Loki's face. He weathered the peculiar account with patience until a crude disparaging remark about Master Trevarius rankled his sensibilities. His face creased in disapproval.

"You dare sully your master's name with such brazen disrespect?"

The talk of reckless behaviour, and fun, even the crude language, all of it he could handle. Or at least ignore for the sake of his own peace of mind. But he was incapable of reconciling himself with the sight of a Jedi insulting his superiors, dead or alive. It went against everything he believed in: the bond between master and apprentice was enduring and sacrosanct. And there was Halajiin exhibiting blatant disregard for such untouchable principles.

"You would do well to follow your master's example, Halajiin Rabeak."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Despite his efforts to control it, Hal's tail would not be kept from expressing his true emotions. Being lectured by a Master or a senior Knight, Hal could understand. He could even handle such talk from one of the younger standouts. But nothing, nothing in the universe could make him accept such judgement by someone didn't even know him.

"And you would do well not to glorify a man who was dead long before your father was ever born," Hal replied, his tail bristling as his ears leaned back. "Yes, a Jedi is supposed to honor his master, but he should also recognize truth, and be able to accept another's faults. I respect my master, but I also knew him, and I know how he changed. If you think I dishonored him by calling him a bastard, you have no idea who Trevarius was at all," Hal spoke, ice behind his words.

Straightening out his stained undershirt, the Nehantite shot Loki a disappointed glare before turning and heading off down the hallway where the boy had originally been headed.

"The Council is down this way, right?" he called back, not bothering to look over his shoulder.

[Abarai Loki]

Inwardly, Loki sighed. Verbosity was an affliction strangely common amongst passengers of the Whaladon. It pained him to encounter another profound case in Halajiin Rabeak. He sensed a long day ahead of him. A single step, and a heartbeat later, Loki was stood in the turbolift doorway.

"Halajiin Rabeak," he began gravely, turning to face him, "If it is your intention to greet the council short of a limb, carry on. If, however, disfigurement does not factor into your agenda, I suggest compliance. There are no half-measures when it comes to the security of this vessel. Do you understand?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The air rushed around Hal as Loki sped by him, and the Nehantite paused to smooth out his headfur before stepping up to the turbolift doors, himself. This boy was skilled, that much was certain, but he also seemed to be a bit of a dick. Hal didn't much like dicks.

Really? You had to word it like that?

Oh shut up, you know I didn't mean it like that.

"Please, just call me Hal. Nobody's called me by my whole name in ages," Hal replied. "And, what are you planning to hack off one of my limbs with? Certainly not this."

He held up Loki's saber in his right paw, fingers grasping it upright by the base as he studied it. Letting it drop back into his paw, he then tossed it back to its owner.

"You're quick, but I'm a mongoose."

[Abarai Loki]

By returning the lightsaber when he did, the mongoose had saved himself from a premature end, a fact of which Loki was absolutely certain. The burning intent to kill flickered from his eyes but a quiet fury remained, bubbling beneath the surface. In his hand, the metal of his weapon was still imprinted with the warmth of Halajiin's paw, it was obscene.

"The ability to remove your arm does not lie with my lightsaber, Halajiin Rabeak, but my resolve, which I assure you is sharper than any blade."

Fingers wrapped tightly around the sacred metal cylinder, in his heart Loki could hear his Jedi weapon screaming objections, and it was everything in him to still its bloodthirsty rage. That Halajiin freely returned his lightsaber was testament enough to his intentions, this the young Jedi had to acknowledge. He stepped aside, granting him access to the turbolift.

"Until you have seen the council, you are not to leave my sight," he said, the doors closed and he raised his gaze, "But touch my lightsaber again, and I will take from you much more than just an arm."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Stepping into the turbolift, Hal shook his head. "Seriously, dude, lighten the fuck up," he groaned. "You do know that being a Jedi also involves having fun every now and then, right? Or at least it did back in my day."

There was no trust emanating from the boy, so Hal sighed and reached for his own lightsaber, pulling it out and extending to Loki. "Here, you take it if that'll make you feel better."

[Abarai Loki]

"No!" Loki blurted, and rapidly retreated a step, eyeing Halajiin's lightsaber as if it were a snapping voritor. But once he was sure the Nehantite wasn't about to advance with it, he straightened out his tunic, and took on an even tone:

"Need I remind you, the Jedi who used to... have a little fun... were wiped out decades ago. There is a lesson to be learned in that, I think."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Slipping his saber hilt back into its sleeve on the back of his belt, Hal simply shrugged. "Suit yourself. Also might pay to not be so jumpy, either," he replied.

As the lift sped past floors, Hal looked himself over once more. "If I'd known I'd be addressing the Council, today, I'd have at least put on a new undershirt. Nothing ever turns out quite how you expect it, huh? And, strange thing about having fun: it never actually stops happening, so you might try giving it a shot, some time. Even Trevarius is still capable of it."

He winced, then corrected himself, "Was capable of it, that is."

[Abarai Loki]

Just as a second anti-fun argument was taking shape in the boy's head, Halajiin mentioned Trevarius again, steering them back towards the conversation from a moment ago. Loki hesitated, allowing the humming of the ascending lift to consume the silence, while he considered the modicum of discomfort churning within. There was only one way to dispell it.

"You must understand, Halajiin Rabeak, it was not my intention to insult. You're right, I didn't know your master."

There. He'd said it, albeit with his gaze fixed on the turbolift door. But the feeling was not quite gone, it niggled, and principle dictated what he must do next. This required eye contact.

"I knew his apprentice."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Really?" Hal's ears perked. "Which one? He was on his second, while I was still there."

Allowing himself to stand more at ease, the Nehantite watched Loki's face for a reaction, then discovered that this was one boy he never wanted to play sabbac with. "And, I know you didn't mean offense. I do respect Trev, and I understand why he's become as hard and bitter as he has to most, but you've got to understand, he's not just my master, he's my friend. Well, was my friend, now. Man, it's hard to believe he's gone. We used to go out for drinks and compete for ladies on Saturday nights. But now everybody's gone, I guess..."

[Abarai Loki]

"Yes, I'm sure it was all very... distracting."

The way in which Halajiin was struggling with his tenses wasn't entirely unforgiveable, if every detail of his outlandish story was taken as gospel that is, and given his most peculiar qualities, Loki was willing to extend him the benefit of the doubt. What he found himself incapable of digesting was the colourful picture he was painting of the Jedi of old, who, according to the eccentric mongoose, were a band of ill-disciplined hedonists. This bizarre fabrication Loki chalked down to the side-effects of his hibernation sickness.

"My mentor, Barabas Tosca, was the apprentice of Master Trevarius. He shared stories of his old master, passed on his teachings, which appear to have changed dramatically since your days as a padawan."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The wheels of Hal's memory turned so hard that smoke nearly poured from his ears. Barabas Tosca. The name didn't ring any bells. Still, he did feel he owed Loki a bit better explanation.

"I can't say I knew him. Your mentor, that is," Hal replied. "But, like I said, Trev changed. I knew him before he was a knight, too: we were about the same age. Made it nice because we knew each other, already, but I think that made it harder on him because he was seen as being soft on me. I actually think that's what made him turn into a hardass, and I've always felt a bit guilty about it. I hope the same thing doesn't happen to me when I get my first student."

[Abarai Loki]

"Yes, a disconcerting thought indeed," said Loki, darkly.

In truth, it wasn't the prospect of Halajiin changing that concerned him, but the very idea that he would one day be entrusted with his own padawan. The thought alone made his skin crawl. It was curious, Loki considered, that he'd refrained from divulging these concerns at all. Inwardly, he frowned. The atmosphere between he and the mongoose was decidedly civil. Perhaps this is what Taataani Meorrrei meant by social diplomacy.

"My master was strong, disciplined, and hard. His methods, I was assured, were a departure from the more traditional teachings of the old Jedi Order. Barabas Tosca emphasised the importance of combat, survival, and uncompromising order, in light of the Jedi Purge. He was a very wise man with the foresight to prepare his students for dark days, a time in which it would not do to be... soft."

The lift doors parted and Loki swept outside.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"And what about compassion? Understanding? What about the desire to reach amicable solutions before ever resorting to violence? Did he teach you these aspects of being a Jedi, as well?" Hal asked, for once going on the offensive.

His stride certainly longer than those of his guide, Hal still found himself needing to move at a decent clip in order to keep up. "Forgive me for saying so, but if you only learned how to fight, you didn't receive much of a training at all. And I believe you misunderstand the difference between compassionate and soft."

What the hell are you doing? Don't piss this kid off!

Hey, I'm not going to let him treat me like some fool. I'm a Jedi Knight, as proclaimed by the true Jedi Order!

You're being an idiot. You don't even know all he facts, yet.

So sue me. One of us has to stand up for what's right and bring some sense back into this mess that they seem to think is normal.

[Abarai Loki]

"If you expect me to provide you with a comprehensive report of Master Barabas Tosca's teachings, you will be disappointed. Suffice it to say that a man who fails to honour his duty to protect the lawful and walk the path of peace cannot call himself a Jedi."

The Whaladon was packed with such a wide variety of Jedi, each with different backgrounds and principles, that discussions of this sort weren't uncommon. Loki didn't mind so much, as long as he was able to get his point across in the process, because quite clearly he was right. Long gone were the days when the Jedi could afford to be selfless defenders of justice and peace, they were fugitives, and for the greater good it was in their best interest to stay hidden, pass on their knowledge, and watch their ranks grow. It was in the interest of the greater good, and while there were bound to be exceptions; whether it was a question of pride, as with the rescue of Master Laran, or a matter of tactical advantage; they must nonetheless accept their place in the galaxy. This, Loki suspected, would be the hard fact Halajiin found most difficult to swallow.

"But do not fool yourself, Halajiin Rabeak, as Jedi our first and foremost priority is to survive and thrive. We have returned from the brink of extinction, and it is a feat we should not attempt twice."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Our goal should be to restore order, and fight back against injustice. Funny, for all your talk of being strong and lacking a sense of humor, I wouldn't have pegged you for a coward," Hal replied.

What the fuck was that?

He talks big, but then says we have to stay hidden? Coward, in my book.

"Besides, I told you to just call me Hal."

[Abarai Loki]

"It seems, Halajiin Rabeak, that every word you speak serves only to propel the conversation further into the realms of idiocy. I suggest you refrain from attempting to inflict your own brand of disjointed illogic upon others until you have a clean bill of health."

Under any other circumstances, calling Abarai Loki a coward was surely a crime punishable only by death. But it took a man teetering on the edge of madness to be so dismissive of his own mortality. Clearly, being shunted out of his own time had left Halajiin extremely disturbed, and it was unethical, Loki concluded, to execute the mentally-deranged. A small cluster of padawans shamelessly gawked at the furry new arrival, and dispersed under the youngster's frosty glare.

"You will have an audience with Daria Nytherciria, the only council member presently available, and in the event you are deemed fit to join our ranks, you will undergo a full medical assessment before you are allocated quarters. Do you have any unique hygiene or dietary requirements?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"You know, I'm starting to get the impression that you don't really like me," Hal replied as he continued along. "Or believe a word I've said. And the name's Hal."

While he certainly belived that Loki was under the impression of being absolutely correct about the mongoose, Hal could still only see an incomplete training which resulted in such a lack of... people skills.

"As far as requirments go, a sonic shower is good enough for hygene, though I will need to figure out where to pick up a fur brush and a toothbrush. And for diet, meat is probably a good thing." He curled back his lips to reveal a set of quite animalistic jaws. "Though I can eat prettymuch anything. Some new threads would be nice though. Boots still seem to be in good shape, so those'll do for now."

Afte a short silence, he added, "And I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss me like you've already done. Hasty judgment can often come back to bite you, I've learned."

[Abarai Loki]

"I have dismissed no-one. That is the council's prerogative."

There was nothing unreasonable about Halajiin's list of requirements, in fact, Loki was pleased that he desired new clothes. It simply wouldn't do to have a Jedi parading around the ship looking like a down-and-out spice-addict. He would see to it personally the Nehantite acquired a respectable new outfit. The accusation of hasty judgement still haunted him, however, and he paused in his step to reconsider his furry companion.

"This delusion and paranoia of yours," he began, eyes narrowed in curiosity, "Are they another bi-product of your hibernation sickness or have you always been this... peculiar?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"It's not delusion and paranoia, it's called being 'normal,'" Hal replied. "Obviously something that went out of style a few decades ago, I guess."

Rubbing the bridge of hiz muzzle, Hal stopped and reconsidered that line of thought. "Sorry, I didn't mean that, it's just... you're a bit of a dick, you know that? You've always got to be right, and you don't believe me when I'm telling the truth because it doesn't seem to fit your viewpoint. Seriously, it's not like I asked for any of this to happen!"

Feeling his heart beat faster, Hal tried to focus himself and calm down, but so many emotions he'd repressed thus far just would not be denied. At last, he found himself staring back down at the boy Jedi before him, and unloaded.

"Listen, I just lost everything and everyone I ever knew. Instantly. I realize everyone here has lost something, too, but they didn't lose everything all at once. I was a Jedi in good standing, and while I might have been a bit more playful than some liked, I did my job, and I did it well! And now I'm here, facing you, getting judged by you, and you have no idea who I am. Think about that for just a moment and tell me it wouldn't throw you off a bit, too."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki watched him, brow furrowed in rapt fascination, throughout the entirety of his dramatic monologue. Studious eyes followed every gesture; reading, translating, searching for the truth that ran deeper than a mere barrage of words. Remarks were made which, under any other circumstances, would've successfully unhinged his patience. But as it stood, his mood was placid and cool, and his youthful features warped, confusion giving way to concern.

"Halajiin Rabeak, do not be alarmed, you are having another hysterical relapse. Please, lie down and we shall begin your breathing exercises."

Draping his pristine haori over the cold floor, Loki looked up at Halajiin and gave him a nod of encouragement.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Wow. Damn, you're thick," Hal balked at the suggestion.

"I'm not hysterical. There's nothing wrong with me, Knight. Pick your haori back up and keep it on," the Nehantite said. "What the hell is it going to take before you get it through your skull that someone can be a bit pissed off, and a bit confused, but still be A-OK?"

[Abarai Loki]

Flummoxed by Halajiin's words, Loki picked up his haori, and gave him a long quizzical stare.

"So, all this whining is... normal for you?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Whining? You think this is whining?" Hal replied, spreading his arms. "Tell me to go sweep the driveway, then you'll hear some whining! This is nothing!"

Throwing his paws in the air, Hal called out, "I'm not crazy. This is crazy! All of this. This ship, this empire thingy, the running and hiding, none of this is normal!" He then couldn't help but laugh.

"But you're so used to it, you've accepted the insanity, and think I'm the one that's nuts! It's not supposed to be like this, kid!"

[Abarai Loki]

"Take a shuttle to Coruscant. Return to the Jedi Temple. Reject this insanity. The council will be eager to hear of your findings."

Loki's arms were folded, a last line of defense against the banal ramblings of his boisterous counterpart. The problem was obvious, whatever Halajiin's issues were, beyond the need for an audience with the council, there was no practical solution. If he wasn't mentally ill, a debatable matter in the boy's eyes, then his difficulty in coming to terms with the dramatic changes in his life was purely that, a difficulty, and one he had to overcome alone. Instead, he insisted on inflicting his woes upon Loki like he was some sort of psychological sounding board. It would not do to muddle the important matters at hand.

"You cannot be so blind to think our existance here is a choice. And furthermore, my name is Abarai Loki."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"And my name's Hal, Abarai Loki, but that doesn't seem to matter to you, much, now does it?" Hal shot back.

Placing his paws on his hips, Hal snorted, "And maybe I will go to Coruscant. After all, it's been a hundred years, everyone probably thinks I'm dead. Should be able to get in easy, then use this," he pulled out his lightsaber hilt again, "to rout the place of these Empire goons once I get there. Sounds better than hiding forever. Might even send you a postcard."

In his heart, Hal knew it was wrong, but his passion to see things corrected to the way he knew was strong, and it radiated off of him in waves through the Force. Loki was right, it would take time for him to come to terms with all that had happened, and Hal was being foolish for treating him in such a manner, but Hal had never been one to just roll over and take things quietly.

Well, at least not outside of the bedroom, and even in it, "quietly" wasn't a big part of his repertoire.

[Abarai Loki]

"Your name is Halajiin Rabeak. Hal..." he managed, with some distaste, "Is an affectionate abbreviation. A nickname between friends. I extend that courtesy only to one man."

Loki was forever baffled by the way in which people strived for a sense of familiarity and intimacy amongst each other, the constant need for contact and affection. It was a sentiment he made abundantly clear when he raised Halajiin a curious eyebrow, and concluded, "We are not friends, Halajiin Rabeak."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal clapped his paws - one still holding his lightsaber hilt - to the sides of his face and gave a melodramatic gasp. "No! Really? I'd have never guessed!"

Dropping his paws, Hal just shook his head. This had to be the absolutely most boring teenager he'd ever met, and he dearly hoped the rest of the folks Loki's age aboard the Whaladon weren't similarly afflicted, because then he'd have no one to goof around and make mischief with. While he did attempt to keep up a level of decorum on the grounds of the old Temple, Hal had been a favorite among the younglings for his willingness to play their games and overall just plain be entertaining to be around. Loki seemed about as exciting as a biochemistry lecture.

[Abarai Loki]

"We have reached an understanding, then," Loki said, filtering Halajiin's sarcasm.

It appeared, blissfully, that they had nothing else to discuss. Loki pressed on down the corridor, thankful for sudden drought in conversation, and in no time at all found himself standing outside the doors to the council chamber. A cursory glance over his pristine clothes and he ventured inside... or at least he would've done, had the door opened. Loki retreated a step, and gave the stubborn door a frown.

"Abarai Loki to bridge," he said, tapping the wall-mounted comm panel, "I must speak with a member of the Jedi council."

"Daria Nytherciria left for the Challenger moments ago, I am assured she will return within a matter of hours."

"Understood," he replied, turning stiffly to face Halajiin, "It appears we have... time to kill."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Urge... to snark... rising!

Resist, man!

But... but the opportunity is too ripe! Must... snark!

If you do, I'll punish you with Jawa porn!

You wouldn'!

It'd hurt me, too, but I'll do it if I have to.

You are truly a ruthless opponent, lower functions. I will yield. This time.

"That it does," Hal admitted, looking at the doors, then back to Loki.

While the young Jedi had rubbed him the wrong way, Hal held no actual ill will against him, but it was not in the Nehantite's nature to back down when he felt he was being looked down on. Flipping his saber hilt over in his paw, he sighed and let his long tail flick idly.

"So... what do you usually do around here for fun?"

Fun? You seriously think this kid actually has fun?

Every kid has fun, somehow. Right? Yeah, he's got to have something hidden up his sleeve.

He probably makes sure every deck of sabbac cards is perfectly trimmed, for fun.

Hey, I on'y did that once, okay? There was seriously nothing to do, that day.

And what a long day it was, indeed...

[Abarai Loki]

"When I am not conducting lessons or performing my duties, I am either training, studying, eating, or resting. Socialising does not rate on my list of priorities, Halajiin Rabeak, our predicament is purely a matter of circumstance."

The gleam of lightsaber metal captured Loki's attention while he spoke, hungry eyes flitting between Halajiin and the weapon dancing in his hand. There was an eager tension in his muscles he hadn't noticed before, his palm absently brushed his Jedi weapon, comforted by its cold touch. He swallowed hard, inwardly wondering if he was about to deeply regret his next words:

"In the pursuit of... fun, Halajiin Rabeak, I shall defer to your expertise."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's head cocked in curiosity as he looked down at Loki.

"My what?" he asked, not following in the least, as even his tail stopped swaying while he devoted all his faculties to trying to figure out what he must have just missed.

[Abarai Loki]

"It is recreation you seek," Loki elaborated promptly, eager to be done with the matter, "A spectator sport, in my experience, and I am therefore leaving the choice of recreational pursuit with you."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Man, this little punk is just asking for it. Like I know what there is to do on this ship that he wouldn't get arrested for doing as well!

Yeah, and I kinda doubt he'd really let you go find a bar before seeing the Council anyway. Actually, no he might, just to sabotage you.

I'd have to teach him a lesson, if he ever tried something like that.

Hmm, actually, that might not be a bad idea.

What?

Teaching him a lesson. You're no slouch with a saber, you know.

Oooh, I like where you're going with this!

Hal's fingers toyed over the surface of his lightsaber hilt, and he pursed his lips before bringing it up. "Well, it's been a while since I've sparred with anyone. Think you'd be up for it?"

You know, when we beat him, it's going to look like we're picking on a little kid.

Don't care, he'll have deserved it.

[Abarai Loki]

"You may show me the extent of your skill," said Loki, a fire kindled in his eyes, "I will judge whether or not we shall call it a spar."

Not missing a beat, Loki marched past Halajiin with a renewed spirit in his step. The first creeping tingle of adrenaline sped from his belly to his fingertips, hands clenching reflexively at his sides. In a matter of moments, the pair were weaving amongst a group of younglings as they spilled out of the expansive cargo bay. Once inside, Loki thrilled at the familiar echo of his footsteps, and the inherent electricity in the air.

"Tell me about the last time you crossed blades in battle, Halajiin Rabeak."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"I will judge whether or not we shall call it a spar," his higher functions repeated in a high, whiney voice.

Garfife, I could just slap him.

Not with these younglings around, you won't.

No, but I still want to.

Save it for the spar.

Hal surveyed the cargo bay with a much different mindset than Loki. Instead of looking forward to an honorable match to be a true test of skills, Hal looked for high ground, places to hide, and anything at all that he could use to his advantage, even if unfairly so. After all, it wasn't cheating - it was creative combat ingenuity. And maybe some cheating.

"Last time I crossed blades in battle, huh?" Hal echoed the question. "Well, technically that's not a very fair question, as we don't often face off against an opponent who uses a saber. Usually it's blasters or something. Last real blade on blade was..."

He scratched at his head, then brightened up. "Darth Lekotus. That was it. Rooftop chase, in the rain, steam coming off our sabers the whole time. Slippery fella, and fast with his saber. Nearly took my arm off before I shot him."

[Abarai Loki]

Proud and statuesque, Loki absorbed the dramatic tale in reverent silence, enraptured senses tricking him into hearing the faint crackle and hiss of sabers clashing in the rain. And then Halajiin reached the end of his story.

"WHAT!?" Loki barked, suddenly wild with outrage.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal blinked, taken aback by Loki's reaction. "What?" he asked with a shrug. "It was in the head, perfect shot."

His left paw made a childish imitation of a blaster pistol firing, his index finger substituted for the barrel.

[Abarai Loki]

"It- you- a perfect shot!?"

Loki's cry echoed in the cavernous reaches of the cargo hold, each word staggering out under a great weight of exasperation, which crystallised in a web of taught dramatic lines attempting to pull his face into a point. He paced to shake the leaden feeling in his limbs, and his sharpshooter gaze zeroed in on Halajiin and his brazen finger blaster. Disbelief escaped on the wave of a ragged tortured sigh.

"You mean to tell me that in the midst of a duel- locked in the ancient art of lighsatber combat, you... drew your blaster and... shot your opponent?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The Nehantite's face creased with worry. Loki seemed to be taking offense at his re-telling of the tale, and for the life of him Hal couldn't figure out why.

"Yeah," he nodded. "I did. But I didn't use a blaster, it was a slug I shot him with. Like you wouldn't do the same if the opportunity arose." Hal gave a hopeful smile in an honest attempt to break Loki out of whatever nonsensical shock he'd worked himself into.

[Abarai Loki]

"Don't you presume to know me, Halajiin Rabeak," Loki snapped, "I will not have my name disgraced in such a way. I would sooner fall on my blade, than-"

His voice faltered, becoming faint. Wide blazing eyes searched thin air, grasping for an answer, an explanation, anything. This was beyond his comprehension. The sanctity of lightsaber combat; it was a universal law of physics, of nature, it was as vital to the Jedi way as blood and oxygen to life. The shock from which he reeled could not have been greater had scientists discovered the galaxy was made from chocolate. In the end, he regarded the Nehantite with a long sideways glance, slumped under the burden of such a crushing revelation.

"Halajiin Rabeak," he began, in a low troubled voice, "Have you no shame?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Which would you rather I had: shame or a heartbeat, kid?" Hal answered back.

So Loki was one of that sort. The kind who clung to the romance and legend of the knights of old, the divine chivalry of it all. Trevarius had started on that path, and Hal could see where it had apparently led.

Maybe that's why the Order fell.

Huh? What do you mean?

If they were all too worried about being proper instead of surviving, no wonder the Order could have been taken out. This never would have happened if we'd been there.

We would have been an old man, by then, if we weren't dead already.

Still maybe we could have done something to have helped prevent it. Maybe if you'd taken on pupils...

We both know the Council wasn't going to trust me with that, yet. Besides, a padawan would cramp my style.

Maybe you should worry less about your style and more about helping turn this... mess around. Maybe there's a reason in the Force that you were frozen all this time. Maybe you're supposed to lead this group back to glory.

They'd make statues of me.

And a holofilm, too, I'm sure.

Ooo, I could be a holomovie star!

Yeah, but that comes later. He asked if we had shame. I think he needs a dose of reality to put out the fire of his pride.

Taking a step up to Loki, Hal spread his arms wide. "Look at me," Hal said. "I know what you see. You see a bum, a rag-tag good-for-nothing low-life that you look down on. You don't think I'm worthy of my title, or of my skills. If it were up to you, I'd probably be on the next transport out of here. But guess what? If it wasn't for me, Trevarius would have been dead long before your mentor was ever even born, I'd wager.

"You ask if I have shame? No. No, I can't afford shame. The cost for that is way, way too high, you got me? Yeah, I'm not a model Jedi, but I get things done, and I know my heart is in the right place. We're both Jedi knights, so that makes us equal whether you like it or not. We get in a fight to the death, we make sure we're the one who lives. You want to hide behind a facade of honor and glory, go for it, but if I see a way to end the fight before others get put in danger, I'll take it. Because if I'm alive, I can keep doing good out there and keep helping maintain order and protecting the weak.

"Tell me, which would you rather: that I shot him dead, or that he might have killed me and gone on to kill others? I don't question my decision, and that's how I sleep at night."

The Nehantite's tone was harsh and authoritative, and for that minute he seemed like an entirely different man than the jovial mongoose he'd been just moments before.

[Abarai Loki]

"You don't understand," Loki muttered, eyes lowered in disappointment.

It was a stalemate, that much he knew. There was no disputing the logic behind Halajiin's words, it was a pragmatic account of a Jedi performing his duty to terminate what was a threat to those he was sworn to protect. Somewhere on Coruscant there was a computer or a datapad containing the report, a commendation of bravery and skill in cold abstract words, but for Loki, there was more to being a Jedi than blind duty. There was honour. Slowly, during his time amongst the other Jedi, he was beginning to realise that his views placed him in a lonely minority. Here, Halajiin wasn't an exception to the rule, he was the rule.

"What I want is irrelevant. This is about principle, Halajiin Rabeak. It is about you. A Jedi blade is tempered with honour and pride, the language of the lightsaber is the language of respect, even for our enemies. It is what separates us from squabbling beasts. In the end, what is victory worth when the cost is too great?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"And what is the cost to the rest of the galaxy that they have to pay because the Jedi choose to hide out here, on the run instead of going out to protect those who need us?" Hal immediately shot back.

"The Jedi didn't always have lightsabers. No, there were blasters before that, and slug-firing weapons, and then swords before those. The weapon doesn't make the man, Abarai Loki, his decisions and actions do. But it seems like you've decided to remain here in safety while others put themselves at risk. I hate to say it, but that hardly screams 'Jedi,' to me."

[Abarai Loki]

"A decade ago, the Jedi Order was on the brink of extinction. Today, we still face that risk. Our numbers are thin and we must be cautious, acting only when it is absolutely neccessary. Apply your survivor's pragmatism here and you will find that, in short, dead, we're of no use to anyone."

There was no shortage of irony in the fact that, suddenly, they both found themselves on opposite sides of the fence of a very similar matter. It was another question of survival versus honour, except this time lightsaber combat didn't factor into the equation, and for Loki that changed everything. His master's instructions had been perfectly clear: the Jedi way must survive and thrive, it is imperative, the rest of the galaxy be damned. Now that his bubbling temper had subsided, Loki folded his arms in cold appraisal of the finger-pointing mongoose before him.

"And we have taken action, Halajiin Rabeak, striking at the very heart of the Empire, no less. You just happened to be asleep for it."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's face hardened. It wasn't as if he'd meant to be out of action. Being here, now, was the last thing he wanted.

"Oh, yeah, I totally meant to do that," he snapped. "I thought, 'Gee, I know, I'll go get frozen in carbonite for over a hundred years so that when I come out, all my friends and family and everyone who ever knew me will be long dead, and I can argue with a stuck-up, self-righteous prick who's a full foot shorter than me!' Yeah, that sounds like a brilliant move, doesn't it?!"

By the end, Hal's irises had flared from pink to full blood red, a trait common to his species when they were angered or excited.

[Abarai Loki]

"Questioning the intentions of a group or individual without a proper assessment of the facts is both illogical and inflammatory. Thank you for proving my point."

Delivered with trademark detachment, Loki allowed the briefest of moments for his words to sink in, before reaching for his lightsaber. In an instant, the frosty blue blade leapt forth, and hummed hungrily.

"Now, if you have finished feeling sorry for yourself, perhaps you can show me some of that golden age swordsmanship."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Fine by me. I hope they aren't too attached to you, around here, kid," Hal replied, a sneer curling up his lip to expose his natural fangs.

Adjusting his belt, Hal then shook out his arms before getting his grip just right on his own lightsaber. Tail flicking, he took a deep breath, then engaged the tarnished silver switch button. The minor fizzle before his blade hummed to life should have been an indication that something was wrong, but he ignored it. From his right eye, he could see the brilliant red hue of his own blade, and the sneer on his face became a knowing smirk.

But as he raised his blade, Hal immediately knew something was wrong. A sharp crack resounded from his hilt, causing a massive surge of power through his blade, extending and deforming its shape before it surged again. Were it not for speed granted to him through the Force, Hal might not have escaped as the containment field on his lightsaber's plasma blade broke, and the pent-up energy inside exploded in a fiery burst of energy, lashing out in many directions and in some places reaching out to scar the cieling and walls.

And then it was gone, only another fizzling pop of energy and another red spark bursting from his emitter signalling the death rattle of his focusing crystal. Having dropped to one knee, arm fully extended while his other paw covered his face, Hal slowly opened one eye, then the other to see the smoking hilt he now held.

"What the hell?" he asked, staring at it in disbelief.

[Abarai Loki]

When the lightsaber exploded, a volcanic erruption of crimson plasma, Loki raised his weapon in defense. Over the azure shaft of light, he watched in horror as Halajiin's lightsaber was spewed down the length of the cargo hold like thick lava, leaving black sizzling trails in its wake. Cradled in his would-be opponents paw, the husk of metal gave a last sorrowful crack, its spirit rising slowly with the smoke. And in the shared silence, Loki's Jedi weapon sang, a low haunting lament. The blade was extinguished with a hiss.

"For star's sake..." Loki muttered, irritably, through his teeth.

It was all over before it began. In his hands, his lightsaber, which had quivered with insatiable intent, now hung lame and lifeless by his side. His entire body was rigid, every muscle coiled tight like steel springs, aching for violent release. He saw Halajiin, the fight gone from him as he gaped helplessly at his weapon's smouldering remains. A pang of pity pierced the heavy knot of disappointment in his belly. He closed the distance between them.

"So, that's another weaponless Jedi amongst our ranks..."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"But... but but..." Hal stammered, then let a whimper of defeat squeak from his throat as he continued to stare at his lightsaber.

"Oh, no. No no no, you can't do this to me!" he then babbled. Knocking the hilt against his other paw, then the floor, he flicked the activator switch several times but to no avail. "You can't fucking do this to me!" he shouted at his now-useless hilt.

It was only then that he looked up and saw the damage he had caused. His ears sank, brow falling as his mouth gaped in dismay, his tail hanging leaden and lifeless behind him. "Garfife, why do you hate me?" he whined.

[Abarai Loki]

It was an uncomfortable scene to witness, throughout which Loki remained as inconspicuous as possible. Despite his posturing and sneering, Halajiin had been reduced to a broken whimpering shadow of a man, attempting to nurse his beloved weapon back to life. There was something ugly about it, something indecent, and yet, something entirely understandable. Caught in the moment, a small hand reached out and hovered tentatively over the Nehantite's shoulder, then it was quickly snatched away. Instead, Loki wrapped his fingers around his own working lightsaber, in part to find comfort in the midst of a tragedy, but mainly as a precaution against any potential grief-induced attempts of theft. Then something Halajiin said caught Loki's attention, piquing his curiosity.

"Your lightsaber was called Garfife? Interesting. What does it mean?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Everything that could have gone wrong, had now gone wrong, it seemed. Perhaps Trevarius had been right. Perhaps this was the will of the Force getting back at him for his considerable indiscretions, or maybe it was an even higher power smacking him around for his sins. In either case, it left for a man now questioning his decisions in life which brought him to this point. As well a wondering if the Jedi here might have a crystal or two on hand that he could use to fix his saber. He'd never actually seen a crystal go out, before, but from the rattling inside his hilt, he was pretty sure that was the case.

One ear perked up at Loki's words, and Hal cleared his throat, trying to stand tall again amidst the destruction his weapon had caused.

"Oh, that's not the name of my saber," he answered. "Garfife is the name of my god, the one who created all things. And it seems like he's having a field day on me, right now."

[Abarai Loki]

"Not another one," he grumbled, despairingly, "First, there was Sol-"

Loki faltered, the word lodged in his throat. Instantly, the harsh lines of frustration etched into his face melted, his expression was blank, and haunted eyes stared beyond the bulkheads. It was as if a familiar low rumbling voice, full of patience and warmth, latched itself onto the moment and just as suddenly disappeared like a fleeting wisp of smoke. He took a long breath, then regarded Halajiin with narrowed eyes and a sudden edge in his voice:

"The blade of your weapon was red. Why?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Tevit felt his pulse hasten as his body shifted from grief to defense, and his tail flicked sharply to the left before swinging back into place, slightly brushier than it had been, before.

"What's that supposed to mean?" he answered with a question of his own. "Same as you reason for picking blue, probably: matches the eyes."

When that failed to elicit a calming effect as he had intended, Hal shook his head. "Everybody else had blue or green. Contrary to popular belief, I'm not badass enough to pull off purple, and would you put yellow with this?" he swept a paw over his yellow fur. "I think not. Nobody was using red, and I found this totally sweet, fully matured red crystal on my trip to Ilum, so, I picked it. What's it to you? Am I breaking a Jedi fashion code, now?"

[Abarai Loki]

"No, although I believe your shirt is achieving that quite sucessfully."

It came out so fast, shades of Taataani Meorrrei, his arms were even folded. Inwardly, he bristled, and made a vow to spend an extra two hours in the cargo hold later. He would sweat the matron from his pores, if he must. He saw there was an objection forming on Halajiin's lips, and decided to tactically intercept it to prevent the discussion from descending into a banal fashion commentary.

"Red lightsaber blades are typically associated with those who have fallen to the Dark Side. It is irregular to see a Jedi with one. And while such prejudices are a product of the past, there are many Jedi who cling to them to this day. I am not one of them."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"I'd ask to borrow one of your shirts, but I haven't shopped in the children's department for a while, now," Hal shot back, unable to resist the barb. After all, a busted lightsaber didn't exactly put one in a good mood.

"And if you didn't care about the color, why even bring it up? Not like it even matters, as it's broken, anyways. Gonna have to see about finding a tool kit and a spare crystal now, I guess."

[Abarai Loki]

"There are no spare crystals."

It was a relief to depart the topic of lightsaber colours and their stigmas. In light of recent events, such matters were best left to the council to discuss with new members. However, they had arrived at another sore issue which, given Halajiin's current predicament, would surely not go down well.

"Lightsaber crystals are an extraordinarily rare commodity. In fact, to trade them at all is a crime under Imperial law. For the time being, you may wish to indulge in the use of one of our wooden training sabers."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"No spare crystals?" Hal spoke, his voice hollow as his mind reeled. "Wooden sabers? Yeah, like that is gonna inspire fear in some baddie! 'Not so fast, yon villain, I shall hit thee with mine stick!' Yeah, not gonna cut it."

Stuffing his broken hilt back into the sleeve at the back of his belt, the mongoose began to pace, his tail brushed up and his eyes still slightly flecked with red.

What'll we do? I've gotta have a real saber!

Don't worry, Ilum's a secret, you can go get another one there.

But it's so cold!

Dude, do you want to be the Jedi without a lightsaber? I don't think so. And if there's been Sith around, surely there's a captured saber you can borrow parts from for the time being.

And what about the whole wooden saber thing? I'll look like a total dork. Like a kid back in fencing school. You do remember our last fencing school photo, right?

With those glasses? Yeah, not a good look. But at least this'll keep you in shape. But let's focus on the positives.

Which would be... what, exactly?

You're alive, you're among what ought to be friends, and half-pint here isn't being a total dick, anymore. I'd say that's looking up, at least. And you already know who's got a ship, now, who can take you to Ilum.

A long, slow sigh vented from Hal's nostrils as he let himself calm down once more. He'd let his emotions get the better of him, and he needed to remember his training. Closing his eyes, he counted to four, then took a deep breath before opening them once more.

"Sorry, I didn't mean that," he said. "I'm just... This has all been a lot to take in. I should have spent more time with Captains Merasska and Raurrssatta to get better aquainted with what's going on instead of rushing in here to meet the Council like I did. Guess I just got excited, was all."

[Abarai Loki]

"Cirr!" he blurted, a fraction higher than he would've liked, and made a prompt amendment, "Captain Raurrssatta is here? The Novgorod is with the fleet? Do you know how long they intend to stay?"

One by one, each question was asked in a progressively more professional tone, by the end of which Loki was his usual clipped and disinterested self. On the far side of the cargo bay, a new wave of padawans filtered inside, and when they saw the streaks of plasma burns in the floor, their gasps carried and echoed to dramatic effect. A couple noticed Halajiin, a new face and indeed a new species aboard the Whaladon, fingers were pointed. Loki's expression turned sour, and with a nod towards his companion, he made a beeline for the exit. Halajiin was eager to follow suit.

"Tell me how you arrived here, Halajiin Rabeak."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Yeah, yeah, blame it on the new guy.

Or just on the Nehantite. You do have a special way with breaking things, you know.

I like to consider it as "freeform alteration in real-time."

Yeah, you alter things from working to broken. A lot.

Out of the cargo bay and back into the hallways, Hal pointed Loki back toward the direction they had started from.

"Yeah, Cirrsseeto was his first name, I think," he replied. "Well, the Skipper and the Novgorod kinda found the ship I was in at the same time, and they thawed me out."

Hal continued with his tale, mostly centered around how well he'd adapted to things and the trying ordeal with his vision having almost completely faild him. Certain elements of his visit to Doctor Vek Vek were left out as he wasn't even certain Loki knew what mating even was, yet, by the way he'd been acting. In the span of only a few minutes, they were back near the docking bay, with both ships clearly visible outside the viewport.

"I take it you know them?" Hal asked, hoping to gain some better insight into the mind of this young knight.

[Abarai Loki]

"I am familiar with Captain Merasska. Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta is a... friend."

He finished with a small nod, inwardly agreeing with his own assessment of the relationship between him and the big Cizerack captain. It was a concept that was at odds with his organised mind, friendship. In the past, he had allies and enemies, superiors and subordinates, peers and... intolerable dimwits. Cirrsseeto was some of those things and more, but he was also a friend, or at least the closest approximation to one Loki could imagine. There was a comfort to be found in the sight of that Marauder Corvette drifting lazily beside the Whaladon, and in the close huddle of other familiar vessels, forming a perimeter like a protective herd around a bantha calf.

"The transition from your old life will be difficult, you know this much already," he said, after considering his tale, "But if you ever feel daunted by this strange new world, I assure you, you are not alone."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Well I'll be, he does have a friend.

But, Captain Raurrssatta? What could he and this kid have in common?

No clue, but we've had weird friends before, too. Remember Eric Benson?

Yeah, he was a lot like Loki, here, but we did have some fun, eventually.

Then just keep that in mind, there might be hope for this kid, yet.

Hal stared out the viewport, taking in the sights of his new surroundings. With enough squinting of his eyes, he could almost imagine himself being back on Coruscant, with the ships around them taking place of traffic, and the stars masquerading as thousands of lights out his old apartment window. Closing his eyes, he imagined the hum of so many engines, and the soft, nearly inaudible woosh of the air conditioning inside.

It was when he opened his eyes once more that disappointment rushed back into his life. His face glum, Hal stuffed his paws in his pockets and nodded, "Thanks."

He wanted to say more, but he didn't have the words. Not yet, at least, but perhaps in time. Now it seemed fit for a change in subject.

"Y'know, I think they'll be docked for a while. If you know the Captains, we could probably go pay them a visit, if you want. While we wait for the Council to get back, that is."

[Abarai Loki]

The expressive lines of a Nehantite's face were as alien to Loki as lines of Huttese, and yet, there was no mistaking his melancholy. Absently, he wondered about the spectacular sights captured by those pink eyes, all lost to history, along with the people he knew, the battles he fought, and the place he called home. Now he was faced with a future in which the galaxy was a much smaller place, just as Loki was coming to terms with a galaxy that was much bigger, and stranger, than he could've possibly imagined.

When Halajiin proposed a trip to the Novgorod, Loki gave a nod:

"We shall report to Daria the moment she returns. Until then, I am your babysitter."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Say whaaaaa?

Wow, kid's got some lip! You're right, there may be hope after all!

Hal looked askance at Loki for a moment, surprised at that barb, but more so at its ultimately smooth delivery. Not to be out-done, the Nehantite smirked and replied, "Oh, sorry, man, didn't you see the sign?"

When Loki looked back at him, puzzled, Hal just grinned and put his paw at his own chest, about an inch higher than the top of Loki's head. "Yeah, 'must be at least this tall to snark.' Bummer for you, huh?"

Laughing, he then shook his head. "C'mon, let's go."