9.108 - Prodigal Sons [Novgorod]

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

(OOC: continued from here (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?goto=newpost&t=22387))

When sleep did come to a Captain that found less and less of it, the dreams within usually didn't let him enjoy it. One dream in particular. He was always back aboard Layla...


Coruscant

The cockpit of Layla illuminated by a thousand pin-pricks of stars, engine washes, laser blasts, and explosions. The city-planet below cast its own beautiful sights from lights and the reflection of sunlight off trillions of durasteel and glass structures. Cirr couldn't move. Fixed to that spot, he watched the most beautiful thing he'd seen, oblivious to the destruction of destroyed consoles and smoke within. Distant voices told him to get to the shuttle. Abandon ship.

Boom

The blast wasn't heard, and barely even felt. A giant's gentle hand pushing him forward, as durasteel hull fractured in a death spiral of fire and venting atmosphere. The decompression carried him the rest of the way, ejected free and clear from his beloved ship. Carried like a leaf on a hurricane, he turned around to watch her break up. To watch her burn. What was once his home and his livelihood, now millions of pieces of burning floatsam, adding to Coruscant's eerie beauty as the wreck rained through the upper atmosphere to begin re-entry.

He wasn't alone. He watched Sanis fall, a witness of the same serene destruction, resigned to his own imminent immolation the same as Cirrsseeto was. He saw Lyanie, Abarai, Loklorien, Ben, Morgan, Mara, and Mama. They all were carried down gently, the calm before the storm where the atmophere of Coruscant would cremate their remains and bear witness to their passing to whatever gods or goddesses they knew. He called their names, his voice having no power in the vacuum. He reached out, and each one was always just out of reach. Their eyes didn't accuse. They simply accepted. Something that Cirrsseeto could not do.


Waking just as the fires of re-entry should have claimed him, Cirr caught his breath, now able to breathe the oxygen his subconscious told him previously was not there. The sheet clung to his chest from perpiration, and he carefully extracted himself from the bed, mindful not to wake the sleeping figure next to him. He padded into the refresher, and spent five minutes looking at himself in the mirror, fighting the eternal struggle with his self-doubts and no closer to catharsis than he ever was.

The comm beeped.

"Captain, we're approaching hyperspace terminus. We'll be at the Jedi flotilla in ten minutes."

He walked to the wall comm, dispelling the thoughts that plagued him in times of silence once more.

"jI'll be rrjight therre."

It only took a few minutes to slip on his duty uniform. Leaving the jacket unfastened, he looked back to Lyanie as he left, and then headed to the bridge. By the time he arrived, the realspace insertion moment had been reached, and the subtle inertia shift from the terminus could be felt as the viewscreen showed a handful of very familiar ships snapping into sharp focus.

So this was a homecoming of sorts. Sitting in his chair, Cirr remained quiet while Mallin went through the standard boilerplate of announcing their arrival. Cirr just watched those familiar ships as they cruised.

[Ben Merasska]

As soon as they had reverted from hyperspace, Ben set about hailing the convoy so they wouldn't blast him and the Skipper into a smattering of debris.

"Ben, we just received a hail from Captain Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta of the Novgorod. You bring home the strangest pets."

Ben smiled weakly, even though the expression couldn't be seen by its recipient. Sindy rolled her eyes.

"Sorry," he said. He tried to say something else, but stopped, unsure of just what else he could say. He finally just cut the transmission and led Cirr through the convoy; a bird leading ancient mariners to an island in the midst of a vast sea.

"This is the Skipper, requesting permission to dock with the Whaladon," Ben commed.

"Permission granted. Welcome home, Skipper."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Cirrsseeto was not the only one to waken from a dream, though that which played out in the mind of Halajiin Rabeak was far more pleasant.

Warm sunlight glittered from gentle waves in a crystal-clear sea as they broke upon shores of white sand. The scent of tropical fruits and flowers was full in Hal's nostrils as he lay back upon a comfortable lounge while three, no, six, no... make it eight scantily-clad females of impeccable proportions waited on him hand and foot. Sucking upon a straw out of a coconut which contained a marvelous, and very powerful alcohol, Hal paused as he felt the strings of his board shorts come undone, and he smiled, knowing what was to come next.

Then everything was gray, a bit shaky, and made of metal.

Damn it! That was the best part!
Damn it! That was the best part!

Both halves of his psyche cursed in unison as the drop from hyperspace roused him from his most pleasant dream. Rubbing his eyes, the Nehantite then closed his left one and marveled at a most wonderful change which had occurred while he was asleep: his right eye could now see in color, again!

The voices on the com came to him as if through a fog, and it was with some hesitation that Hal unbuckled his seat harness and made his way up to the front of the cockpit, staring out the windshield. "Wow... is... is that it?" he asked, eyes locked onto the Challenger. "I was worried that the Jedi might be really depleted, but if they can fill a ship of that size, maybe this won't be so bad."

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy cast an eye on Hal, her lips curling in amusement at his wondered exclamation upon seeing the Challenger.

“Unlikely.” She deadpanned, the amusement falling away from her face. “Between the ship’s personnel roster, which has to be a decent number for a military vessel of that size, plus the fighter squadrons…”

The white-blonde haired young woman fingered out the passerby x-wings flying the CAP, for the Nehantite’s reference.

“... and any other support vehicles, there is no way there’d be enough room for a group of Jedi to be Jedi, realistically.”

Siyndacha Aerin looked at Hal again, then moved her eyes to Ben, then back to Hal and ultimately made a face.

“Aw, come on. Sorry to burst your bubble, but there’s no way. Not forgetting the fact that there’s certainly not enough Jedi to fill that.” She turned her gaze back to the main viewport. “I’m not old enough to have been alive when it happened, but I know enough."

Her tongue poked out the side of her mouth.

"And I doubt the Rebellion would name a military vessel something like the Whaladon, anyway."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's expression changed like a glacier sliding down a hillside, removing all the joy and instead flattening it into dull depression.

"Oh." he muttered. Eyes sinking to the Action IV transport, his hopes of officer's quarters evaporated completely. "That's the Whaladon, isn't it?" he asked, his tail drooping.

He missed Coruscant. He missed the gleaming glass towers, the take out Mandalorian food, the one-credit midnight theater, and all the night clubs. He missed his apartment, and his perfect little kitchenette, and most of all he missed his friends. This was to be a new life, and it wasn't sure it was one he really wanted to begin like this.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr continued to watch familiar friends cruise alongside in the ether. Being back here brought him to simpler times. Times where it was still him and Sanis, and they were looking after friends. It still felt like home, even if they wore a uniform to work. Like a parent separated from a child for a long time, he made sure to closely inspect the hulls of Whaladon, Valiant, Knightfall, and Challenger. Hopefully there were no new scorch marks since last he saw them.

He realized as he found himself daydreaming that Sindy had left the channel open. Whether by accident or not, it was amusing to be a fly on the wall, and he shook his head when Mallin made a motion to cut the link.

"Hal, you'rre jin good hands. jI used to fly a shjip to prrotect the flotjilla. The Jedji arre well looked afterr."

As if on cue, a few sorties from Rogue squadron pulled a fly-by. Cirr made a face, recognizing Joker's nose art. Douche. So maybe not all friends, but he'd trust them all in a fire fight.

[Ben Merasska]

"Gah! Cirr! Are you trying to give me a heart attack here?!" Ben gasped. "I mean come on. I haven't had the most calming of days here."

Four X-wings did another flyby; Ben watched them closely as they skimmed the Novgorod's hull.

"Now that doesn't look good," Ben murmured lowly. The three occupants of the WR-542 watched quietly as the fighters drifted skillfully over the frigate before speeding up and heading off through the convoy again.

"I'll see you on board, Cirr," Ben commed, before taking the Skipper up to one of the many docking hatches for the Whaladon, and extended the Skipper's umbilical tube.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr made a face at the fly-by. They knew damn-well who he was, and he knew the score. Flotilla was tightening down on access once again, and the frat boys in Rogue were dicking around and having some fun with his expense, following those orders to the letter.

"Yeah, we'll be therre, just a few....fljies."

He let them have fun with one more pass, and then switched to a tightbeam comm with the Rogue sortie.

"Ha ha ha, that's grreat. Njice to see you too, guys. Djid jI mentjion my frrjigate has djiamond borron mjissjiles?"

And just like that, polite escort patterns. Cirr killed channel.

"Jerrks."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

X-wings. Hal had seen the plans for them, but they were just in the planning stages, back in his time. To see them tearing by past his viewport was yet another stark reminder that he was no longer in his own time, instead a subject of new and strange one.

I wonder what those feel like to fly.

Fun, I bet. Wonder if we can get some flight time in one of them.

Don't see why not. You're probably qualified, and you were a good pilot, back in your day. Besides, you're a Jedi, and this Wheel thingy is devoted to you guys, right?

Yeah, but I bet there isn't a Ms. Chu-Chu's, here.

Really? You go from thinking about tearing around in a fighter craft to thinking about sex that quickly?

Uh, yeah?

What am I going to do with you...

As the Skipper veered off from the Novgorod, Hal called out, "Thanks again, Captain," as he feared the the transmission might be cut at any moment. Sindy had been right, the Whaladon turned out to be the old transport ship he'd hoped it wasn't, but Hal put on a brave face as they swung down into hangar bay. To Hal's dismay, there weren't many other ships of almost any kind. Were the Jedi really this badly off? It was a lot to take in.

"Well, good thing my bags are already packed," he forced a joke.

That's the best you could do?

Sue me. What'd you want me to say, "Wow, nice craphole you're bringing me to!"?

Well, no, but -

"You know what, maybe I was better off frozen" Is that better?

Hey! That's uncalled for!

Then quit complaining. Be glad it was friendlies who even found you, Hal. Could have been a lot worse.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy gave Hal an utterly blank look, slowly becoming infused with confusion. She blinked and looked back out the viewport as the ending bits of their landing in the belly of the Whaladon occurred, her momentary confusion at the Nehantite's comment disippating completely.

"You didn't have bags to start with, Hal." She stated, so matter-of-factly. The talkative girl smiled, examining the inside of the Action IV transport as she had briefly done to the outside from where she stood inside the Skipper. "This looks a little more broken in and homey. And there's probably lots to fiddle with, too."

The undercurrent of her excitement blipped upwards with that thought.

"It'll be okay, like the Captain said." She nodded, confirming for her own benefit. "Not that I was ever the least bit worried."

[MARCUS]

The bridge doors opened, and the bipedal droid module entered, standing close to the Captain's station.

"Captain Raurrssaatta, it has been four months and seventeen days since we last liased with the Jedi convoy. It may be advisable to meet in person with their executive command structure for efficient dissemination of data. Interactions with past colleagues may also prove beneficial."

[Ben Merasska]

"You should be worried," Ben answered the soon-to-be Jedi. "This place is insane. Jedi left and right, all doing whatever it is that they do, and surrounded by Alliance warships and other craft, practically begging for the Empire to swoop down and destroy everything with one swift stroke."

He stood and stretched.

"But you're all a bit crazy too, so you might just fit in," he said, sliding his hands into his pockets and grinning at them. "Come on, follow me."

He lead them back through the common room and galley, to the boarding ramp. He pressed the button to open the ship, and heard the familiar hiss of hydraulics shifting and releasing pressure.

"You can wait here, if you want. It shouldn't be long before someone comes down to see what's going on," he said, ignoring the mechanics and other people milling around and casting them curious glances. "I'm going to wait for Cirr and whoever else decides to show up."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

He glanced to the bipedal droid, and a look of curiosity crossed his features.

"You mjiss everryone, eh?"

The droid took its time processing what should be a simple answer, but never was.

"My runtimes are acclimated to the accessability of familiar resources. Your metaphor is apt, Captain."

Cirr shared a glance with Morgan, for whom this was also a homecoming. He nodded his head.

"Alrrjight then. Prreparre a shuttle. Malljin, ask what suppljies they'rre shorrt on. jIt's always somethjing."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal hesitated, tail flicking its tip as he mulled over the consequences of stepping out of the Skipper.

If you go out there, you'll be leaving your old Order behind, and accepting this one.

But what else can I do? I've got no family to call on, all my friends are gone, and I only have the clothes on my back. I can't afford to turn this down.

Can you afford to let go of it all, though? Think about it, Hal. No one will know you, at least not until they look you up, and you know exactly what they'll find in those records once they do. Are you sure this is what we want? Are you sure this is what's best for us?

What's best for us would be to spend forever on a nice beach with lots of gorgeous--

Okay, okay, you're right, that would be best, but let's be realistic, here. If you're willing to go through with this, we can't do this halfway. I need to know this is something you're capable of handling with me. I'm going to be relying on you a lot until I can get used to things.

I don't like it. There, I said it. I just want to go back home.

We can't. It's not there, anymore. If you want to stay a Jedi, then this is home, now.

It's not fair.

I know. But it'll be okay.

You promise?

I promise.

Taking a deep breath, the Nehantite vented his worries with a sigh, then stepped out into the hangar bay.

This is it, then. I'm here. I should go see the Council.

Turning back to Ben and Sindy, Hal forced a smile. "Hey, Ben, Sindy, thanks for everything, really," he nodded. "But, I should go see the Council. I'll be back as soon as I'm done. Cool?"

[Ben Merasska]

"Ah, sure," Ben responded, throwing a wary expression on his face. His aim was off, however, and it splattered onto his arms and legs, generally making him an anxious wreck. "But, ah, is it that Jedi magic stuff that's telling you where the... uh, Council is?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

The manifest came in promptly, and Cirr checked it over, assigning what he could spare to be loaded aboard the Comet. Parts, food rations, that sort of thing. Common enough, and their holds were fortunately full of Imperial plunder, so he was in a sharing mood.

"Morrgan, MARRCUS, you'rre wjith me. Mjisterr Glayde..."

He looked to his second, causing a slight wrinkle in procedure.

"jI'm gjivjing a marrjine the conn. Don't make me rregrret jit."

He nodded to his XO, and departed with his crew for the lift. Minutes later, the Comet was inbound, dropping free from Novgorod's ventral hull as she made the short trip to align with the opposite airlock interface on Whaladon. Establishing the umbilical and sealing for atmo, the doors opened in unison, and they stepped aboard the Jedi freighter.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

Sindy’s eyebrows lifted with exacting timing in respect to one another.

“For that to happen, Ben, he’d have to be familiar with who is on the council. Not to mention familiarity with the layout of the ship.” One corner of her mouth twitched upward. “I hear that helps.”

The five-five-point-five pixie clamped one hand down on the shoulder of the Nehantite and shook him lightly, offering him the kindest look she had given since encountering his ravenous state in the kitchen of the Skipper and then patting his back.

“Though, I’m sure you have enough Jedi wits about you to figure your way around, don’t you? Or was I mistaken in hearing you say something about being a Knight?”

She released him then, crossing her arms over her chest, the other corner of her mouth lifting to level with its counterpart, then she bent and picked up her bags, hefting the large hiker’s knapsack over her shoulder and gripping one smaller yet somehow just as heavy bag in her hands before standing upright again.

“As for me…” She started. ”...I’m just going to have a little wander around, get a feel for my surroundings. Papa Marezius always told me it would help reduce my anxiety if I got familiar with places as soon as possible. You guys have fun!”

With that, she stepped off into the belly of the Whaladon, leaving the two males of different species utterly confused as to how she was ever anxious.

[MARCUS]

Upon arriving on Whaladon, MARCUS took to the task of offloading requested supplies, leaving Captain Raurrssatta and Morgan to meet with the Jedi of the convoy. Carrying each parcel of cargo, the droid module neatly stacked them in an area adjacent to other cargo containers.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan took a deep breath. It had been a while since they had visited the Whaladon. The modified Action series was slowly becoming ever-more cramped with Jedi. While there weren't more than a handful of survivors from the purge, the increasing stock of kids made things interesting.

He'd only been gone for two and a half weeks, but things felt different. He popped a portion of a cardboard-like ration bar in his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. Yes, things were different now.

"It's weird to be back. Good weird."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben watched with a bemused air as the two Jedi walked off into the ship. He wasn't much for Jedi, but they'd seemed like good people.

The hiss of an airlock brought him out of his thoughts and he turned.

"Ah, Cirr," he said, waving. He stopped and his eyes widened as a giant stepped out of the airlock with him. He gathered himself and walked up to them. "Seems smaller than I remember it being."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

He made a face.

"Yeah. And jI guess jI neverr notjiced that smell beforre."

Not bad in and of itself, but old engine grease, ozone, and the sweat and pheromones of a massively overcrowded crush of Jedi tended to get noticed by someone with a decent nose. He shook his head.

"Oh, uh. Ben Merrasska, thjis jis Morrgan Evanarr. Ben used to rrun pojint defense on the Wheel wjith me, uh, sometjimes."

Explaining Ben's strange relationship to the Alliance was difficult, and he grinned it away.

"Morrgan's a Jedji. Been helpjing us out on ourr sorrtjies. Bjit of a culturral exchange orr somethjing."

He looked at them, a bit awkward at these kinds of introductions.

"jI'm surre you'rre both busy. jI've got to make surre to get thjis carrgo offloaded. Whole lot of gjifts for all the good ljittle boys and gjirrls, you know."

Excusing himself, Cirr went to work with MARCUS, handling the dispensation of needed cargo to the Whaladon. Between that and repairs here and there, he didn't mind a little busy work. It was like old times in a way.

[Ben Merasska]

Cirr turned away and Ben was left with Morgan. Ben grinned awkwardly and shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. He desperately wished that he wasn't there, that he was there with Lyanie, Rafine, Kiera, or Cirr; he wanted someone familiar to ease his anxiety around the Jedi in general, which was now growing after being controllable for a good bit.

"Uh, yeah."

His words fell flat in the space, and he shifted on his feet, wondering if he should just go back to the ship and leave.

[Abarai Loki]

The trip to the Novgorod had been a pointless affair. Following their chaotic introduction (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=22455), Loki and Halajiin had barely cleared the docking umbilical when they were turned away, informed by the boarding officer that the captain was already aboard the Whaladon, distributing supplies. Action VI transports were small fry in an ocean of military vessels and yet it was remarkable just how difficult it proved to locate an individual amongst their convoluted innards. In the mean time, Halajiin recieved a summons to the council chamber, and Loki had a class to teach. When he arrived in the expansive cargo bay, his gaze immediately fell upon the ordnance racks and makeshift barbell that sat undisturbed in the corner. No sign of him.

It wasn't until after his lesson was over, and the clarity of thought that came with physical activity, that it became perfectly obvious where he was going to find Cirrsseeto. And when he did, his head was buried inside an open maintenance panel on the engineering deck, tail swaying in merry distraction. Loki folded his arms.

"Captain Raurrssatta."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Caught with his hands in the cookie jar. His tail jerked as he backed out. Of course he couldn't resist a peek at the condition of the Action VI. He'd put plenty of man-hours into making her space capable. While he was aboard, he'd damn well sure make sure the regular Alliance apes didn't mess up all of his hard work. Still, this wasn't his job...

...wait, he knew that voice!

He backed out, rising to his full height, and his ears perked up fully as he put a face to that voice.

"Abarraji!"

His first instinct was to hug his friend, but he knew the Jedi's nature and out of respect, he stopped short, but eagerly put a hand out in greeting to the younger human.

[Abarai Loki]

"It's good to see you again, Cirr," he said, accepting the hulking hand.

Eyes gleamed approval at the impressive sight that greeted him. Cirrsseeto suited his military uniform, of course it looked smart and was a vast improvement over the ragtag attire he wore running with Sanis Prent, but more importantly it matched the man. He was a captain, and he was still rummaging around machines with the grunts. Absently, Loki wiped some of the grease transfered from their handshake onto his tunic, it didn't matter. There was a familiarity in the bounce of his ears and flick of his tail; Loki could read him, read him like he could no other, and that was comforting. It had been months since their last encounter, and that he didn't have to tilt his head quite so much to talk to him was a source of quiet pride.

"Congratulations on your promotion."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirrsseeto had learned by now to take the compliment regardless of his own misgivings of his situation, and he cracked a bewildered smile at his young friend.

"Djidn't fjigurre the Alljiance was hurrtjing badly enough forr offjicerrs to gjive me the nod, but jin forr a crredjit, jin forr a decjicrred, eh?"

It didn't bother him either way. Abarai was no fool, and didn't abide fluff. If he cared to get to the root of Cirr's real feelings on the matter, he knew how to plainly read them, with or without the force.

Quickly tidying up after the fact with a shop rag, he nodded past Loki toward the training area.

"Stjill see padawans qujick on thejirr feet, so jI know you've kept busy. How's the Orrderr been sjince jI've been away?"

[Morgan Evanar]

Cirr turned away and Ben was left with Morgan. Ben grinned awkwardly and shrugged, shoving his hands into his pockets. He desperately wished that he wasn't there, that he was there with Lyanie, Rafine, Kiera, or Cirr; he wanted someone familiar to ease his anxiety around the Jedi in general, which was now growing after being controllable for a good bit.

"Uh, yeah."

His words fell flat in the space, and he shifted on his feet, wondering if he should just go back to the ship and leave.Morgan didn't understand Ben's hesitation. While he was stone-deaf to the living Force, he was a decent sabaac player.

"I'm a very odd Jedi as far as Jedi go, but that makes me more... normal. I used to be a slicer. I can't read your mind or anything like that." Morgan waved a large hand, and pulled his jacket open and pointed at the DL-44 and then let it fall back closed.

"I still carry a blaster. I fix crap. I'm a lousy mystic. I'm a guy." he explained with a shrug.

"Ration bar?" He offered, and pulled two from inside his jacket. Morgan immediately started to remove the wrapper on one of them.

[Abarai Loki]

"Stjill see padawans qujick on thejirr feet, so jI know you've kept busy. How's the Orrderr been sjince jI've been away?"

"It's growing, both in numbers and strength. We have some promising padawans, and I suspect, many more once they have been stripped of their social club mentality. That is just a matter of time."

Loki gave a curt nod, in silent agreement with himself. As a matter of principle, he shared none of his misgivings with those outside the Jedi Order. Cirrsseeto was the exception to the rule. There was, of course, after an absence of many months, much more to discuss; darker issues that demanded more privacy than a bustling engine room was able to provide. Absently, he wondered just how much Cirrsseeto knew of his old friend's treachery, and questioned the wisdom of prying a raw wound open.

But it was not a time to be haunted by gloomy thoughts, his friend was back, and he had an overflowing boil of curiosity to satisfy. Hands clasped behind his back, he became a model of attentive interest.

"Tell me about the Novgorod."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr tried to play it off nonchalant, but what he could hide on his face he couldn't disguise in the perk of his ears or the upped tempo of his tail swish.

"Old Rrepubljic Sjienarr corrvette. Been jin serrvjice on agajin and off agajin sjince the Rrebelljion starrted. The age shows jin places, but we got a good faceljift. Morre than good."

Better put on the hyperbole in case any of this ever got back to his mother.

"Starrfjighterr grrade subljights, class pojint fjive fjive hyperrdrrjive..."

He strained to keep the smile off his face. With a cough and a slight change of topic, he succeeded.

"...of courrse, jit's not the same when you'rre not jin the engjine rroom, makjing the magjic happen. jI'm just herre to take crredjit forr someone else's worrk."

Almost to highlight his point, he noticed a stain on his duty jacket, no-doubt picked up from his brief flight of fancy among Whaladon's systems. He wet a finger tip, and tried to daub it, but there was no salvaging it from need of a wash. Little things to demonstrate how different his life had become.

He turned his attention to the happy nostalgia of Whaladon as he and his Jedi companion moved back toward the areas of the ship more crowded with students of mystical ways and such.

"Do you everr thjink about how you got herre, Abarraji?"

[Ben Merasska]

"Eh," Ben replied, accepting the bar from the giant. "Thanks."

He opened it, watching as people carried cargo and parts from the Novgorod into the Jedi ship. There wasn't much he was used to doing without someone he knew, and he didn't want to be rude to Morgan, who seemed nice enough. The fact he used a blaster did a bit to calm the Alderaani pilot though, which surprised him.

"Cirr mentioned a cultural exchange?" he asked, unable to think of anything else. What would he and a Jedi have in common? "What do you do?"

He was still awkward when it came to meeting new people, that was for sure.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Whatever needs to be done, I guess." Morgan said, and realized it was a crappy answer. Ben gave him an appropriately blank look. He briefly contemplated his role with the Jedi. From what he understood, most of the younger Padawans were now receiving a more traditional education from other Jedi who remembered the older ways. He took another bite.

"Right now I'm Cirr's E-War specialist, but I'm a good engineer, a fair pilot, and a damn good speeder driver. The lack of ground and gravity doesn't sit well with me." Morgan continued to consume the ration bar. He watched Ben, and while his reactions were guarded and subtle, but he did react to piloting.

"And a slicer. I'm an excellent slicer, but I think I already said that. You a pilot?" He asked with curiosity. Space flying required a touch he just lacked, so he got by on knowledge and reflexes.

[Ben Merasska]

"Yep," he said; drifting into talk about piloting was something of a show of release, as Ben's body language relaxed. "I fly a WR-542, called the Skipper."

He winced, taking another bite of the ration bar.

"Horrible name, but I haven't had a chance to name her, and I don't have a clue. Bad mojo to have a nameless ship too, so it's still Skipper. You wouldn't happen to know any good names, would you?"

Talking about the ship had done more than anything to take Ben's mind off the fact that the man he was speaking with was a Jedi. They still made him uncomfortable, and he had a hard time pinning down why.

[Siyndacha Aerin]

So seemingly confident, Siyndacha Aerin had set out from her still-new companions to explore what was her new home, all on her lonesome. Mere moments later, she was broadsided by the fact that there were way more people milling about than she thought there would be, which caused an unordinarily fast bout of backpedaling and swift turning-heel to head back in the direction from whence she came.

That is, until she realized that, oh yes, there was no-one on the Skipper. It was not of any great deal of consequence, anyway, and thus she simply continued moving, scanning the area for one of the… oh yes, four very recently familiar faces she had - with little deliberation – accepted into her ‘circle’ of anxiety-free. Resolving herself to a smile once again, the white-blonde pixie girl moved along with the faintest of a skip in her step, scanning every grouping of people until she came across Ben ad some supertall (and, if she could admit it without turning phenomenally pink in the face, he was also handsome) guy, who looked to be very much in what looked to be (by Ben’s facial expression) a somewhat awkward, uneasy conversation. With a good-looking man which was a thing that would surely only make her awkward as Ben most definitely didn’t strike her as interested in that. It made her wonder what made Ben so uneasy around that guy and around this place in general.

It would probably be in my best interests to leave that alone.

Moving on, her eyes settled on an unfamiliar, a bot, a familiar (Cirr) and…

A bot? Waitaminute.

(This interaction continues in Not-Quite-A-Jedi Girl and the SUPER NEATO BOT! (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?p=385997#post385997))

[Morgan Evanar]

"Fast ship." Morgan nodded in approval. WR-542 Shooting Stars were starting to pop up in decent numbers in the Rebellion. Some Stars were used as couriers and emergency cargo transports. But others, because of the decent cargo hold and power plant, plus room for 4, they made a surprisingly effective platform for medium to long range recon.

"I might be able to think of some good names. It's an in-person thing, though. They're all a little different. Kinda get a feel for it. I'd love to have a look and see if there is a better name for her. Or him."

[Abarai Loki]

"Do you everr thjink about how you got herre, Abarraji?"

"No," he answered, almost biting off the end of the question in his haste, "It was a sordid affair. The whole ordeal was nothing short of contemptible. What matters is the result."

While Loki had been quick to dispel the waft of nostalgia that clung to the question, he realised there was something about the simplicity of it that smacked of weightier implications. Cirrsseeto had something on his mind. This fresh mystery granted Loki the means to escape the mental quagmire of memories into which he'd just worked himself. Curiosity took flight, and then, in parsing unspoken words, deflated with a sigh.

"I sense our conversation is about to broach the metaphysical. Cirr, you know my opinion regarding notions of fate. My being here is no accident. If I hadn't found the Jedi by now, I'd still be looking for them."

Silence, and a stubborn one at that, put parsecs between them. Wearily, Loki surrendered.

"Go on, then."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"jI've neverr doubted that we'rre dojing the rrjight thjing, worrkjing wjith the Alljiance. Even beforre we made jit offjicjial, Sanjis and jI..."

The Captain paused, watching a few Padawans go through a series of katas.

"...well, yeah. But puttjing on the unjiforrm, therre's morre to jit than just havjing yourr hearrt jin the rrjight place, you know?"

He exhaled slowly, looking at his feet as he struggled to find his words.

"jI've been a Captajin forr two months now, and jI stjill don't know what to make of that."

Cirr's eyes met Loki's again.

"When djid you know you werre rready to teach and lead?"

[Abarai Loki]

"I didn't," he said, but it was clear from the clench of confusion in his face that he was wrestling with the question, "For me, it was never a matter of being ready. I came to the Wheel with the intent to pass on my knowledge and skill. It was my purpose."

The hard clack of wooden training sabers, meeting in dispute, resounded in the cargo hold; it was the beating pulse of the Jedi Order. Loki watched them hard at work, familiar faces, glistening from ferocious exertion, the forging of warriors. And all the while he considered his friend's conundrum. Cirrsseeto's uncertainty was justified, it was an unconventional promotion, dressing an engineer in the clothes of a corvette captain. But it was an unconventional Alliance. Perhaps they saw in Cirrsseeto what his friends saw, what Loki saw, the great qualities and potential to which he was apparently blinkered. He nodded at the roomful of fledgling Jedi.

"This is my purpose, Cirr. I know it. I've always known it. You, on the other hand, weren't raised to be the captain of a ship. You were made a leader, and now you must learn to become a leader. Self-belief will come with experience."

[Ben Merasska]

Ben nodded, full aware of what the Jedi-giant was saying.

"Him? I know there are different ways of naming ships, but I'd only ever heard of giving them, you know... feminine attributes," he said, feeling a bit silly when putting it that way. "I got her configured for cargo transport mainly, but one section is geared up for easy conversion into passenger space. Not an easy task for a Sienar boat, but the guy who did it knows how to work on ships."

He grinned, the tension mostly gone now that he was thinking of his ship. His ship. There wasn't words for the feeling he had when the realization that he essentially had a ship came over him again, though relief and satisfaction featured heavily among them.

"I was hoping to ask Cirr too, but he ran off on me, so..." he trailed off, shrugging again.

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr understood what Abarai said. It was what Loklorien said. What Captain Terius said. Leadership was organic. You were either born into it or you developed it with experience.

The Captain leaned against a bulkhead, watching the sparring, and letting it carry his mind off to faraway places.

"jIf you asked me what kjind of engjineerr jI am, jI'd tell you jI'm the best. jI study harrd. jI know theorry and appljied mechanjics. jI've put jin thousands of man hourrs on jit. When they gave me a commjissjion..."

Cirr crossed his arms, continuing.

"...same prrocess. jI studjied naval doctrrjine. jI took to rreadjing hjistorrjical combat studjies. jI learrned everrythjing about my shjip and about my crrew. jI can tell you all of thejirr names, Abarraji. Everry last one of them and therre arre two hundrred and fourrteen."

He sighed.

"Tjimes ljike thjis? jI feel ljike therres somethjing jI'm mjissjing. Somethjing jI'm not dojing. When jit's qujiet."

[Abarai Loki]

"Then you are not complacent. That is a good thing. It will keep you sharp."

It came as no surprise to Loki that Cirrsseeto carried the burden of leadership with trademark humility, it was an invaluable quality for someone in his position. And that he'd taken the time to learn the names of his crew suggested that, as their captain, he knew the cost of his mistakes. It was telling. While, on the surface, Cirrsseeto was an imposing figure, he was also the most compassionate and conscientious man Loki had ever met. Two hundred and fourteen men and women. His brow creased in thought.

"To be a strong leader requires more than just knowledge and skill. Leadership is about the quality of a man. It is about the strength of your convictions, Cirrsseeto. Because, one day, you will be faced with a decision only you can make; you will make it fast, and it will change lives. And it is a responsibility from which no amount of study will provide refuge."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"That's what jI'm afrrajid of."

The felinoid captain looked down to his younger friend, concern etched plainly on his face.

"jIn the heat of the moment, jI don't have tjime to thjink jit overr rreally. jI gjive an orrder, and jit's done. But afterr? When therre's no longerr a thrreat and jI've got the tjime, jit all goes arround and arround agajin jin my head. Djid jI do enough? Djid jI do jit rrjight? What djid jI mjiss?

jI keep trryjing to balance an equatjion, Abarraji."

He sighed, returning to watch the duels before them.

"Even Corruscant. jI stjill thjink about jit everry goddesss-damned day."

[Abarai Loki]

"You are a good man, Cirr. But to become a leader of men you must reforge yourself into something hard, and sharp, and cold. It is in your nature to be inquisitive; so, when you make a mistakes, ask questions of yourself, and learn from them. But, under no circumstances, do you let remorse blunt your resolve. If that happens, you may as well raise a blaster to your comrades, and fire."

All the while, Loki allowed his eyes to track back and forth between the assembled padawans and his friend, wary of them overhearing such an intimate discussion. But something changed within him, he felt his Jedi pride stir, and the doubt he saw etched into his friend's face ignited a fire in his heart. Suddenly, Cirrsseeto was transformed before his eyes, he was no longer talking to the chipper mechanic snatched up in the tide of big things, he was a fellow warrior, a battlefield commander with the weight of worlds upon his shoulders. Loki wheeled around so that they were face to face, and reached up to clamp a hand on his shoulder.

"Somtimes, in battle, terrible things are asked of us. Black deeds that rally against the very fabric of our character. In those moments, a warrior must set aside his conscience, and act. Friends and allies become numbers. Compassion and doubt? The enemy! Because if, in those moments, you flinch, the numbers will grow, and the blood will be on your hands. That is the cost of compassion and doubt, the cost of hesitation, and it is too high a price. So, in those quiet moments when your choices come to haunt you, steel yourself with the knowledge that as captain it is your duty to act, and don't flinch."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Loki's words troubled Cirrsseeto, and he averted his eyes from his friend.

"jI don't get to exempt myself frrom bejing a cjivjiljized sentjient by puttjing on a unjiforrm. You'rre rrjight, jI have to act decjisjive, but jI'm not wjilljing to abandon myself fully to the ends and jignorre the means."

When he looked at Loki again, it was with a newfound understanding of the Jedi. He wasn't sure if he welcomed this familiarity. The very fact they could have this conversation at all represented some kind of abstract loss, and a philosophical defeat that happened in a place and time he couldn't comprehend.

"You arre an arr'uuhai, a brrotherr to me. But of everry converrsatjion we've had, jI drread thjis one the most. You told me long ago that jI should rrespect and underrstand my enemy jin a fjight. That parrt, jI haven't forrgotten. jI know who my enemy jis."

[Abarai Loki]

"I am glad you have taken my advice to heart. So, I implore you, do not fool yourself. A civilised sentient does not have the power of turbolasers, missiles, and starfighter squadrons. Did you really think, that when you assumed command of such formidable firepower, you could simply go on being the same old Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta? That is not a luxury afforded a man of your position."

Fierce eyes searched for the first glimmer of understanding, but conflict creased his friend's face, drawing battle lines against reason. It was becoming rapidly apparent that Cirrsseeto did not share his warrior's mentality, and that stung. Disheartened, Loki relinquished his grip and granted the hulking Cizerack some space. He was not a soldier, he was never trained to kill without remorse, or to shun the burden of the self in favour of the greater good. He was an engineer dressed up in a captain's costume, it wasn't his fault, but it was dangerous. Loki's face became grave.

"My friend, you do not want to hear this, but from the moment you put on that uniform you elected to shake off the emotional trappings of the individual and become part of something greater than yourself. One part of a well-oiled, and highly dangerous, machine. When you accept that, you will function exactly as a soldier's supposed to function, and your crew will be better for it."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

And there was the divide between him and Loki. He knew it, the Jedi knew it. They were close friends, but separated by their own codes of honor. It was a strange paradox to be so near and so far.

"Do you beljieve we wjill everr see the end of all thjis?"

He allowed a moment for his question to be pondered, and then clarified.

"Warr, jI mean."

It was the Jedi's nature to be a peacekeeper, a guardian of others, but that life carried a committment without apparent end. When you expected eternal vigil, what did that say of your confidence in what you protected? He didn't know.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Probably waxing philosophical with Loki. He'll catch up, I'm sure." Morgan said. He wasn't fond of the terse Jedi. Morgan found him inflexible, and in some ways, nearly anti-social. Morgan's solution for Loki was primarily to avoid him, although he might be a good source of lightsaber instruction.

On the other hand he was a force for discipline and an excellent saber drill instructor. There had to be more to the young man, but there simply had never been the scenario where Morgan saw a need to interact with the hidebound Jedi beyond the minimum.

"But yeah, in Hutt Space, sometimes ships get weird names." Morgan said with a shrug.

[Abarai Loki]

"Do you beljieve we wjill everr see the end of all thjis? Warr, jI mean."

"This war, yes," he answered, with certainty, "But there will be other wars."

That much he accepted as a fact of life, not from his own limited experience, but from the annals of galactic warfare, and the selfish nature of people. There were times of peace, of course, but in the grand scheme of things, these times were fleeting. It was a sad truth, but the galaxy wasn't fit for men like Cirrsseeto Raurrssatta, good men. It took a world like Alderaan, a world of peace, and chewed it up and spat it out. Loki was from Alderaan, born a child of peace, and he was taken, and in the fires of battle was made a warrior. Then Alderaan was destroyed. The call of war, it seemed, had saved him. Abarai Loki was both a son of peace, and war. He accepted that, but in the eyes of his friend he saw the undying gleam of the idealist.

"There will always be wicked men, Cirr. And, as long as there are wicked men, there will be war. Peace... absolute peace, is an illusion, I think. But it is one worth fighting for."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

He wanted to disagree with Loki's grim assessment, and to rebuke all thought of war's inevitable presence in their lives, and the very idea that he couldn't do it galled him. His ears inched back at the uncomfortable observation.

"Therre's someone close to me, Abarraji. jI, uh."

How could he explain this to his friend?

"jI'll fjight forr herr, jI'll pay whateverr cost jI have to pay. But we'll have ourr tomorrrow. jI rrefuse to beljieve that, when the tjime comes to gjive herr cubs, jit wjill be jin a galaxy that can only promjise them death.

You'll have no cause to doubt my rresolve."

[Ben Merasska]

"Oh. I stay away from Hutts. And I don't like spending too much time in Hutt Space. Too much goes unsaid in their contracts," Ben said, leaning back against the hull of the ship. "I don't much like a vibroknife in the back, and it's very tiring to be on the alert all the time."

He raised an eyebrow.

"Though I suppose I shouldn't be too surprised you're familiar with Hutt Space. Said you were slicer, right? Big money in that; especially from the Hutts."

[Morgan Evanar]

"Grew up on Nar Shadda, so yeah. Hutt Space is best left to Hutts, even for a stack of credits. I mean, you get used to it after a while, but generally speaking, the further from Hutt Space the happier I am." Morgan didn't mention the very large stacks of credits in secure accounts and various funds that he had stuffed away over the years. He checked on them every now and then to make sure they were still there, and periodically closed and created new accounts.

[Abarai Loki]

"jI'll fjight forr herr, jI'll pay whateverr cost jI have to pay. But we'll have ourr tomorrrow. jI rrefuse to beljieve that, when the tjime comes to gjive herr cubs, jit wjill be jin a galaxy that can only promjise them death. You'll have no cause to doubt my rresolve."

"I do not doubt you," he said, with unwavering certainty.

It wasn't difficult to detect the sincerity in Cirrsseeto's words, even if it meant wading through a swamp of sticky sentiment to find them. When he spoke of his partner, Lyanie, the bantha in the room, and the promise of their future, his words were steeled with tender conviction. It was fascinating to hear him talk that way. Long had he held a candle for the perky mechanic, there could indeed be no other to inspire such passion from him, and that they had at last established a relationship was a matter of some fleeting interest to the young Jedi. Still, he would not press the matter. Experience reminded him that Cirrsseeto became painfully shy about this sort of thing, so for the sake of sparing him before the padawans, he left it alone. Instead, he settled for an approving nod.

"It is good that, even out here, you have secured yourself a mate," he grimmaced at his own choice of words, and elaborated, "Companionship. Love. You deserve happiness, Cirr. I am pleased for you."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

It felt really strange talking about this sort of thing with Loki, and Cirrsseeto kept a funny grin on his face at the thought of the young Jedi finally coming to grips with the birds and the bees. Preferably that lesson wouldn't be taught by his mother though! Not that she ever listened to him, but she took a delight in needling Loki whenever she could. It wasn't special treatment though, as she did that to most everyone.

"You want to jinspect my shjip?" He blurted out, a bit of the boyish pride bubbling back up to the surface once more.

[Abarai Loki]

The sudden change of subject surprised Loki, and inwardly, he wondered just how long Cirrsseeto had waiting to take that particular question off its leesh. There was no mistaking his unbridled enthusiasm and to deny him the opportunity to flaunt his new toy would be an indulgence in pointless cruelty. That, and he had no further commitments for the rest of the day.

"Very well," he said, with a nod, and led the way out of the cargo hold, "You have been gone a long time. For what sort of operations is the Novgorod deployed?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

A quickened step in his pace, Cirr led Loki back the way they came, and back toward where Morgan and Ben would be, as he explained their mandate.

"We'rre a fast attack corrvette, assjigned to the 422nd battle grroup jin the fourrth fleet, but we'rre usually on sorrtjie."

Catching his breath as he eagerly explained, he had to mentally note to shorten his strides to keep this convenient for the smaller Jedi.

"That means we patrrol openly and often deep jin jImperrjial terrjitorry. We look forr opporrtunjitjies to attack, rrajid, pjillage, and djisrrupt the empjirre wherreverr we can. Unless jI get superrcedjing orrderrs frrom my Battle Grroup, those orrderrs rremajin on the table. A perrk that allows me to, forr example, 'patrrol' to thjis vectorr."

[Abarai Loki]

"I see," he said, rather solemnly, and after a moment of reflection, added, "The freedom to bring the battle to the enemy, that is a rare gift. You are a shark in the water, my friend."

The rest of his thoughts went unspoken. There were times when he looked out of the viewport and saw a starfighter soar past or a freighter wink out of sight, and for a fleeting instant, he wished himself elsewhere. These were moments of weakness, when it was imperative to pin down one's selfish desires, and stamp them out. Still, there could be no denying that the padawan's would have much to gain from having solid ground upon which to exercise their skills. No-one ever said their situation was ideal. Turbulant thoughts lifted though, at the prospect of Cirrsseeto's next answer, and Loki glanced up, eager for the dirty details:

"And have you seen much battle?"

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

Cirr's ears lifted in time with the edges of his mouth in a cheshire's grin.

"Arr'uuhai, jif only you knew."

He rattled a few notable engagements off, extending a finger on his right hand for each one.

"Let's see, we bombed the jImperrjial walkerr factorrjies on Darr Akuz (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=22381), then we played a decoy forr an enemy ljistenjing outpost nearr Terrmjinus (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=22412), allowjing the rrest of our Battle Grroup to sneak thrrough and carrry out a surrprjise attack."

He saved the best for last, and gave a little pause.

"Oh, and we beat back the jImperrjial attack on Sullust (http://sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=21710)."

[Abarai Loki]

"The Battle of Sullust!" he blurted, forgetting himself, "You were there?"

In recounting previous engagements, Cirrsseeto failed to spark the light of recognition in Loki's eyes, but everyone knew about the Battle of Sullust. It had been a terrible blow, devastating most of the orbital shipyards, but the attack was cut short once the unsuspecting allies rallied to mount a mighty defense. It had been a hard fought conflict that was both costly and stood as testament to the strength of Alliance metal. And the sudden revelation that his friend had been caught up in the middle of it left the young Jedi somewhat stunned.

"You're earning yourself quite the record of service. In light of which, it only stands to reason you took the opportunity to... patrol this vector. I'm glad you did."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

He nodded knowingly.

"jI've defended the wheel beforre, and jI'm honorred to do jit agajin. Most of you arre a second famjily to me."

Cirr gestured to the young Jedi, changing the tone a bit.

"But jI know you'rre rready to do morre than sjit back and prreparre to mount a defense. Corruscant wasn't an end. jIt was a begjinnjing. You need to travel, Lokji, and soon. See how hungrry people arre out beyond forr hope. Therre arre trrjilljions out therre that need you."

[Abarai Loki]

"That is the idealist in you speaking," Loki said, knowingly, "Listen to the strategist. When the Empire is no longer in a position to pick us off one-by-one, the Jedi Knights will reclaim their rightful place, and there will again be hope. We will fight, of course, but in the here and now, the galaxy looks to men like you to usher in a new dawn."

It was a point he found himself making regularly. It was a hard truth, some, such as Corell Capstan, found it more difficult to accept than others. But for Loki, when it came to the Jedi, idealism was a poison that sought to infect and destroy everything for which they'd worked. And while his comrades struggled to find their place, he knew only too well his purpose in life, and it was not to bring hope. They turned a corner, and approached the boarding hatch with which the Novgorod was docked.

"The Jedi are not heroes. We are an endangered species. Our mission is to survive, and grow strong, so that when the time comes to strike, we will only have to strike once."

[Cirrsseeto Quez]

"And jin the meantjime, what?"

Abarai was pragmatic to the last, but sometimes it frustrated Cirrsseeto terribly.

"We rrun? We hjide? Abarraji, no djisrrespect to you orr to yourr orrderr, but therre arre a lot of good honest people out therre fjightjing and dyjing forr you...on that hope. They'rre carrryjing a lot of wejight. At thjis pojint jI'd say morre than the Jedji arre."

They understood each other, yet there was a gulf between them at times.

"Some don't even know the Jedji arre rreal. They all thjink jit's make-beljieve, and they go to bed rresjigned to thejirr fate. All jI'm sayjing jis don't underrestjimate hope. jIt has all the powerr that love has, when the opporrtunjity prresents jitself."