Wild Creatures - 10.015

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa stalked through the unfamiliar plants and strange trees of Ossus, spear held in her hand. Evil Dirk had abandoned her on the planet after the native peoples had set upon them, chasing him back into his starship. He hadn't even hesitated before fleeing, which had made her vow to cause his eyeballs to swell and explode should she ever see him again.

After two days of trying to stay near their landing site, she was sure he wasn't coming back for her. Now she was making her way to the large encampment that they had originally decided to head for, the comm on his ship having informed them that Ossus was belonging to the Jedi and instructing them to specific landing coordinates which Dirk had seemingly ignored. Perhaps the Jedi* who had chased him away had also blown up his ship.

She prowled forward, parting some long grasses with her spear and hunkering down to study the camp in front of her. In a lot of ways it reminded her of her home village, though it was a little bigger and used more materials that she now knew were called Metal and Plastic.

*not Jedi, natives, but Ndonsa doesn't know the difference at this point

[Abarai Loki]

Pirada Aquilla was a carnivorous plant native to the planet Ryloth. It had a thick green stem and large petals which unfurled to form an inviting halo around a small cluster of seeds. The seeds were coated in a thick golden sap which proved irresistible to both insects and mammals alike. However, whenever the seeds were disturbed, the plant would react, its firm veiny leaves – upon which the petals rested – snapped shut, entombing the insect within. The captured prey was then slowly digested by the enzyme secreted by the folded petals. This enzyme was an irritant for most mammals, including humans, which earned the crimson flower its name amongst the Twi'leki locals. Pirada Aquilla, or the 'Blistering Kiss,' had not been seen on Ryloth for decades – which was why, when he discovered it growing on the neighbouring hillside, Arlan Solborne had charged into the hydroponics lab in an uncharacteristic frenzy of enthusiasm.

Unfortunately for Loki, he had been present for this bizarre display of wild gesticulations, and found himself suddenly in possession of a soiled canvas bag and tasked with the collection of seeds. Presently, he cursed the botanist's name. Skulking through the thick shrubbery and woodland that crowned the balding hilltops, Loki spotted another flower peeking from the tall grass like a solitary bloodshot eye. He reached out, fingers aglow from the burning, and readied himself. The objective was to pick a seed before the petals closed, but even with the advantage of Jedi reflexes it was tricky, for the seeds were stubborn, and slick with sap, and had to be twisted loose. Nine seeds in the bag and he was beginning to get the hang of it. He took a breath, then snatched a seed free. Again, he cursed Arlan Solborne with a hiss.

There was movement on the periphery of his vision. His attention, which had once been dedicated to the retrieval of sappy seeds, was fixed upon the presence he suddenly detected. It was there, just through the trees, an outline of a person hunched and statuesque. A pair of dark eyes shimmered in the shade – it was looking right at him.

“You, there!” he called out, “Identify yourself.”

[Ndonsa]

She slowly rose off her haunches, tail held stiffly behind her as she stepped sideways out of the plants she had been crouched by. Ndonsa studied the man in front of her, her head tilted to the right and her shoulders hunched forward as she prowled a few steps toward him.

She had removed the yellow bikini top for comfort, and it hung from her beaded belt by the various pouches she had tied there, leaving her chest covered only by the large variety of necklaces that she wore. Her spear was not exactly pointed at the stranger, (a Human it appeared, although Dirk had also claimed to be Human and she had her doubts about that) but it wasn't pointed at the sky or the dirt, either.

Ndonsa approached this encounter as she would approach any with a potential enemy: with an abundance of caution. After all, the Jedi of the planet had already proven quite happy to fight.

"I am Ndonsa," she said, keeping both hands on her spear. Her pink eyes gleamed as the light hit them, and she added, "Identify yourself."

[Abarai Loki]

The stranger took shape as layers foliage and shadow peeled back to reveal something shapely, distinctly feminine, and incredibly furry. She had a poised bushy tail and ears ironed back against her head, which reminded him of Halajiin Rabeak or the mechanic, Tevit Ramastan. Strips of sunlight strobed the mahogany fur a bright fiery shade of red as she approached, spear in hand, necklaces clinking against her breast. And that was when Loki noticed them, both of them, just sitting in the sun like a couple of sleepy pups. Ndonsa's fur was suddenly not the only thing red. The grass crunched underfoot as he shuffled awkwardly to one side in a bid to salvage a scrap of dignity from the situation without putting his life in mortal danger. Ndonsa was, at all times, just visible out of the corner of his eye.

“My name is Abarai Loki,” he said, with stubborn formality, “I am from the settlement down there. Tell me, are you a native of this world?”

[Ndonsa]

He turned to face the east as he spoke, and Ndonsa watched him curiously, though still on alert. Perhaps it was a custom of this world.

"I am not Jedi," she said. "I am Kufu, from Nehantish." Ndonsa frowned, facing east as well, just in case the man would be offended by her lack of knowledge of his customs. "Are you a native of this planet?"

She was feeling confused, but could only work with what knowledge she had, scarce though it may be. The native Jedi of Ossus came in a variety of species, that much she had gleaned from what Evil Dirk had told her about them, so the man's lack of recognition that she was foreign did not necessarily mean he wasn't from Ossus either. Perhaps he thought she was from a far away village that his settlement had never heard of. "I came on a flying ship," she added helpfully, making a soaring hand motion in case he was especially thick.

[Abarai Loki]

When Ndonsa mirrored his evaisive movements, Loki quickly checked himself in a moment of irrational fright. Mercifully, there was nothing amiss with his own appearance. It didn't, however, prevent his cheeks from blossoming anew. In his present state of unease, he found it difficult to make sense of the words coming out of her mouth, and how she was saying them. He wasn't sure if she was some sort of simpleton, or just thought that he was. That was a thought which rankled him.

"No, we are not from this world, but this is our new home. We also came in a flying..." he cut himself off before he sounded completely ridiculous, "Why are you here?"

[Ndonsa]

Facing away from him and trying to carry on a conversation was ridiculous, she decided, and turned to face the man. She was standing straight now, her spear set butt down in the ground it's point to the sky. Even her tail was beginning to relax. "I came with a human named Dirk. He was searching for a giant tree known to be here on Ossus. Only we were set upon by the native Jedi and he ran away like a coward," she spat on the leaves by her feet. "I am stuck here, Evil Loki."

Granting him the honorific that Dirk had insisted upon would surely cause the man to relax, only now that she'd used it she could tell that it made him feel uncomfortable. "I apologize, I do not mean offense."

[Abarai Loki]

Evil Loki? That confirmed it. She was a simpleton. And if he was dealing with a primitive of sorts, then it was important not to give her any reason to be alarmed, which meant a calm tone of voice and no sudden movements. He learnt that from the Lurmen of Maridun. First of all, there was some muddled facts that needed to be corrected.

"The Jedi are not native to this world. It is likely you were attacked by one of the tribes of the Ysanna. I do not know of a giant tree, but if you are stranded, then perhaps we can arrange for you to be returned to your world."

Relieved that things were beginning to make sense at last - everything except for the elusive giant tree - Loki relaxed. His hand, which had been poised ready to draw his lightsaber, fell to his side. Bringing an outsider onto the site, even one as primitive as Ndonsa, probably constituted as a security breach. However, the alternative was to just let her go, and considering her knowledge of the Jedi presence on Ossus, that was out of the question. It was a matter for the Alliance military. She would first be screened, then processed, then sent back to wherever-

"Wait, did you say Nehantish? Argh!"

Loki, who, in his sudden astonishment, had wheeled around to face Ndonsa, now reeled away with his hand clamped over his eyes. It took only a second to notice the burning. And as the ooze of the Blistering Kiss worked its way from his fingers to his eyelids, he started to convulse, and hiss, and shout.

"My eyes! Stars above! My eyes!"

[Ndonsa]

His ways were bizarre, but he was obviously in distress, and Ndonsa strode to his side, her spear dropping to the ground. Firm paws grasped his wrist as he convulsed (it almost looked like war dancing, or perhaps a seizure) and she sniffed his fingers. Sap of some kind was on his skin, and apparently in his eyes according to his cries. Ndonsa released him, and pulled her water canteen from her waist.

"Hold still," she ordered, pressing him down by his shoulder while he was in too much pain to protest her manhandling of him, and then she poured the water into his eyes.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

They say that the sense of smell is the greatest spark of memory, and to the animal nose of a Nehantite, scent often brought back keen recollections of the past.

It was such a scent that Halajiin Rabeak followed into the jungle, and while he was certain he had to be wrong, he followed it anyhow.

You've got to be kidding. We can't be smelling a female, here. You must be in more need of CC30 than we thought. His higher functions tried to make sense of the smell.

No, I know this scent. It's Nehantite, and it's female, and... I think it's fertile. The yellow-furred mongoose's lower impulses shot back. And if there's a Nehantite settlement, here, they're sure to have CC30.

And if they don't?

Well, they'll at least have females!

And if they don't?

Well, at least there'll be Nehantites. They'll understand.

You just don't quit, do you?

Can't help it, I'm male, and we both know we're not as far up the evolutionary ladder as most species out and about amongst the stars.

Some of us lower than others...

Speak for yourself! I felt you calculating the odds with that welder.

Oh, shut up and follow the scent trail, the wind is picking up!

Through tall ferns, lush, leafy plants and under low branches, Hal chased down the scent of a woman. It'd been well over a year since he'd last seen a female of his own species, so he was loathe to let such a chance get away. But as a second scent came to him, the Nehantite paused, sniffing at the wind. He knew that scent - hair gel.

Well, at least she takes pride in her appearance. Maybe she's a hottie.

Right now I'd settle for a Marching Band girl.

Yikes, that desperate?

Or even Chess Club.

Hal was left with little more time to go down his mental list of attractiveness vs. hobby as the female scent grew stronger. Forging on ahead, he sped up his pace, at last bursting through thick brush to come to a sudden stop.

There, before him, was a topless, red-furred, ringtailed female Nehantite, with Loki pulled close, pouring her canteen onto him.

"What. The hell," Hal stammered, one eyebrow arched under his forward flop of blonde headfur.

[Abarai Loki]

In that moment, Loki could've been dressed like a Twi'leki table-dancer and have had his image broadcasted all over the galaxy, and he would not have cared. On his knees, he wilted with a sigh of relief as the cold water washed away the irritant scorching his eyes. In that moment, he could've kissed his primitive saviour, but his thoughts dwelled on that hateful botanist. Arlan Solborne would pay. The blissful flow of water came to an end too soon, and in its absence, he worked at his bloodshot eyes with the cuff of his tunic. That was when he heard a voice. Slowly, fearfully, he peeked from behind his sleeve.

"Hal!" he blurted in shock.

His watery gaze then bounced from his fellow Jedi to the fulsome pair of mongoose breasts staring him in the face. Given the effects of the Aquilla enzyme, one would be forgiven for thinking it impossible for those puffy eyes to swell anymore, but they'd be wrong. Up like a shot, with a sharp intake of breath, Loki fell back on his rigid, if somewhat flailing, formality to save him from his shameful hell.

"Halajiin Rabeak, this is N-donsa. Halajiin... is a Jedi!"

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa whirled toward the intruder, her spear levitating from the ground and smacking solidly into her paw, her stance instantly defensive as the human man struggled to his feet.

But he had said that it was not Jedi who were native, but some other group. Ysanna? Her body slowly relaxed, but the male Nehantite in front of her was quite obviously near his mating season. Ndonsa kept the spear pointed lazily toward the yellowfur.

"Halajiin," she said slowly, circling away from Loki to keep her distance from the Nehantite as he moved forward. "I did not expect to find one such as you here." Ndonsa hesitated, then allowed, "I did not expect to be here. But the spirits' work is their own business."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"What the-" Hal blurted as he saw the spear move on its own, but he had little time to wonder as instead it was leveled at him.

So, there was a Nehantite female, Kufu, from the looks of things, here on Ossus? Well, it was a jungle, so that sort of made sense, though Hal found himself far too distracted by Ndonsa's toplessness.

"Nice," he said before he realized it slipped out of his mouth. Snapping back to reality, he held up his paws, trying to look as disarming as possible while smiling, though his tail flicked playfully, and he hoped Ndonsa could read its meaning - he wanted to see if she was game for a bit of... private fun. His CC30 would wear off in another two or three days, but he still had his own normal desires.

"I didn't expect to see another one of us here, either," he replied with a laugh. "Especially one as pretty as you." His smile growing wider, Hal let all manner of dirty thoughts run free through his head. "Loki, have you been holding out on me? Who is your lovely friend, here?"

[Ndonsa]

"I am not his," she snapped before the human could say anything, and he seemed quite happy to stay out of it, his eyes still puffed up and reddened as if he were a Nehantite himself. "I belong to no one." Ndonsa drew herself up to her full height, balanced gracefully on her footpaws. "I am shaman for the ..."

Her strong voice trailed off uncertainly. Who her chief had been and how big his band of warriors was seemed unlikely to impress a modern Nehantite or a human. Evil Dirk had merely smiled and nodded and asked more about the head hunting and if the women did it too and if they were naked during the war dances. Dirk had a one track mind, it seemed.

And this yellowfur was flicking his tail at her, which was distracting. She raised an eyebrow at him, and continued, "I was shaman for my tribe, now I am a shaman with no tribe." Her lips curved up in a slight smile, her tail beginning to relax and twitch a bit as she couldn't help but notice that Halajiin was fairly handsome, for a yellowfur. Then she frowned, her tail ceased to flick, and she squared her muscular shoulders. Now was not the time.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

A world of questions burst into Hal's head, many of them entirely inappropriate. While there would be time for those later, he merely nodded slowly, trying to think as both his higher and lower functions worked in unison to best analyze the situation.

She was Kufu, and a shaman, at that. He'd seen her use what had to be the Force to snatch up her spear, and she didn't seem to fear Loki. Well, on sight, nobody feared Loki, but Hal had learned he was a young man not to mess with, as a very powerful thing came in that small package. Tail swaying more easily now, Hal shifted his weight to one side, but took no steps forward, not wishing to startle or alarm this... Ndonsa. And, while his mind and other regions churned with thoughts of things which should not be discussed in front of a teenager, Hal's outward appearance remained calm.

"I don't really have a tribe anymore, myself," he said, still smiling. "You could say that the Jedi are my tribe, now, even as mixed up as we are at the moment. And, shaman, huh? Bet you've got some pretty powerful magics."

Unhooking his thumb from his pocket, Hal looked to his right and spotted a small fruit tree bearing round, red fruit he knew was good to eat. With a light snap, the stem broke on one of the fruits and it flew into his paw with ease, called there by some invisible force. Buffing it on his shirt, he grinned and said, "We've got some pretty powerful magic, too." With a wink, he then bit into the soft, juicy flesh, a droplet of yellow juice leaking out to fall onto his shirt.

"You, uh, doing okay there, Loki?" he added, almost as an afterthought as he finally saw the young knight's eyes.

[Abarai Loki]

"It is not magic."

Loki reappeared from behind the sleeve of his tunic. He ignored Halajiin's concern to preserve what remained of his dignity and instead focused upon his misleading words to Ndonsa. Even in such discomfort, he'd not failed to notice the skillful manipulation of her weapon, and judging by Halajiin's reaction to it, he could only assume there was a cultural divide obstructing his comprehension of events. Whatever the case, this revelation raised serious doubts, and questions that needed to be asked regardless of his own standards of decorum. This time, when he addressed her, he anchored his gaze to her face to minimalise any risk of indecent exposure.

"Ndonsa, you are clearly gifted in the ways of the Force. In light of which it appears extremely suspicious that you claim not to be seeking out the Jedi, and yet have been found so close to our base camp. For the sake of security, I must ask you to elaborate on your reasons for being here. Tell me about Dirk. Did he wish for you to join our ranks?"

[Ndonsa]

She stared back into the furless one's eyes, nearly unblinking. He used words she recognized but in ways she was unfamiliar with. "Dirk wished to find the enormous tree of Evil from which his root came from."

Ndonsa raised an eyebrow as the two males exchanged a look. "Dirk was an idiot, and a coward. He abandoned me here when his ship was set upon by the Jed- the natives of this planet."

[Abarai Loki]

In the silent, but telling, exchange with his mongoose comrade, Loki discovered that Halajiin's knowledge of his people and culture could only help them so much. It appeared their grasp of the matter was to be forever hampered by the primitive's simplistic ways. But Loki had dealt with primitives before, and in Ndonsa there was some hope; she was a proud warrior, a leader amongst her people, peaceful, and with the rare ability to see reason. He could work with someone like that, and better if she were fully clothed, if only to bring Halajiin to his senses. Presently, the red-furred Nehantite's state of undress was of little concern to him, as he found his vision regularly obscured with hot tears, which he wiped away with growing frustration. He gave a loud sniff before he continued:

"Under the circumstances, I do not see why you cannot be returned to your world, and to your people. However, if you are a traveller, then perhaps going back is not what you seek. Ndonsa, there may be a home for you amongst the Jedi."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

There was a war raging inside of Hal between his higher and lower reasoning, and in a rare moment of clarity for the typically boorish mongoose, he just let himself speak without taking cue from either of his two natures.

"We're not much, but, it's better than being on your own in an unfamiliar place," he said. A smile working up his muzzle, he then offered, "But, if you do want to go back home, I'm sure I can find some way to escort you. Been a long time since I've been home, myself, and I can't say I've ever seen Kuf."

His tail swaying, still with hints of a come-on in it, but more settled and casual now, the yellow-furred Nehantite braved a step forward, extending his paw, trying not to look at either Ndonsa's spear or... too late, he glanced, but made a quick recovery back to her face.

"I'd rather like it if you'd stay, though. Even if just for a bit. The food is lousy, accommodations aren't the best, and there's a big line for the sonic shower, every morning, but... at least I might be able to offer pleasant company," he offered. Then, with a wink, he added, "And we can work on your magic a bit, if you like."

[Ndonsa]

She drew back, using her magic to flick Halajiin's paw as it extended toward her. "I have had my training," she said stiffly, unused to having her abilities questioned. But they were being accommodating, and offering her a place to sleep that didn't involve leaves and grass. She shouldn't be rude.

"Perhaps I will stay...for a while," Ndonsa allowed. She looked at Halajiin, looking him up and down frankly. "Pleasant company, hmm? We shall see." She turned back to the human, who's eyes were still very red and watery. "This one should have your people's... medicines... for his discomfort."

[Abarai Loki]

It was indeed discomfort. Discomfort strong enough to stop Loki from objecting to him being referred to in the third person, which, under any other circumstances, would surely have been a cause for grave offence. As it was, he gave an appreciative nod, and lead the charge down the side of the hill - well, as much as one was capable of charging half-blind. A moment later, he cut short his wobbly descent to cast a respectful part-glance back at the semi-naked mongoose.

"It should be noted, Ndonsa, that there is a certain standard of decorum to be observed on the camp. A standard that will be breached by your present state of... undress. Do you have anymore clothes?"

[Ndonsa]

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes, and pulled the bikini top from her belt. "I do." Ndonsa fastened the yellow scrap of fabric around her waist, shrugging her arms through the loops and pulling the whole thing up and into place. She took a moment to adjust the little triangles that covered her offending parts, and then put her hands on her hips.

"I do not wish to offend your ...camp."

[Abarai Loki]

There was a medical station not far from the foot of the hill; tucked in amongst an assortment of tents and shuttles, it was nothing more than a small prefabricated shack, but its very presence had prompted a small community to sprout up around it. Much as it was throughout the camp, where a common cause made neighbours of strangers, and the drone of the military machine was met with the ambience of domestic banality. He considered how the site appeared to one such as Ndonsa, ramshackle and modest as it was, perhaps it reminded her of home.

In the gloomy little shack, there was already a short queue of people lined up outside the doctor's surgery. Deflated, Loki sunk into a seat with a hand clamped over his leaking eye. The others were staring. Then it struck him that, not only was he the only Jedi in the room, but also that, of the entire congregation, his ailment was relatively pitiful. There was a zabrack woman with a broken arm, she'd made a sling from an oily rag, and next to her was an old wookiee with badly burnt fur on his chest, and finally, there was a boy his age trembling violently beneath a cocoon of blankets, his face was white and clammy, and his lips were blue. If he kept his hand firmly in place, he thought, perhaps his own complaint looked worse than what it was.

Beside him, Ndonsa was yet to take a seat. She looked alert in her new surroundings. Loki turned to face her and muttered under his breath:

"These people are sick and are no threat to you. Sit with me."

[Ndonsa]

"Sickness," she said, "is a threat." Ndonsa looked pointedly at the shivering male wrapped up in blankets. She of course knew some remedies that could ease symptoms in the Kufu, but not being familiar with the other species here meant she could be of no use.

Not that she wanted to be. She sat stiffly next to Loki, on the other side from the sick boy. The camp was a wonder and unsettling, strange noises and bizarre languages that made her ears want to lay back defensively. She forced them to relax, though her grip on her spear did not. It was stuck point first to the ground beside her, the tip scratching the floor just barely. The female with the broken arm was brought into a back room by the doc-tor, and Ndonsa watched warily as the previous sick person walked out past her. "I could chant over your eyes if you wish. The salve I would use is made from plants native to Kuf; I could not make any here."

[Abarai Loki]

"Chanting will not be neccessary."

His response came quickly and quietly, and deprived of the long list of reasons to denounce such an idiotic suggestion. It was a courtesy Loki extended to precious few of his peers; where others had faced a verbal roasting for much less, Ndonsa was afforded a polite refusal. Perhaps it was because she was a primitive, and she knew no better, or perhaps he felt indebted following her earlier assistance - for all he knew, he could've been blinded by that hateful sap. Whereupon he peeked through his fingers to make sure that wasn't the case, to his relief, his vision was only blurred with tears. He mulled over his choice of words further still and considered that maybe he was simply becoming more tolerant with age.

As much as it pained him to discuss nonsensical practices like the chanting of sickness remedies, his curiosity got the better of him, and for the sake of his conscience, he chalked it down to a pre-emptive recruitment talk.

"Are you considered a healer amongst your people?" he said, and glanced at her spear, "Or a warrior?"

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa slowly turned her head toward him, canting it slightly to the side, her brow furrowing. The question did not make sense, coming from a man. Perhaps if he had been a cub, and new to the world... What sort of a tribe had she ended up with?

"I am shaman," she said slowly. "I heal. I fight. In my tribe everyone is a warrior."

[Abarai Loki]

Although he didn't show it, stewing as he was in his own discomfort, Loki found himself fascinated by Ndonsa. In a handful of simple words she had summarised a point upon which he endlessly expounded to his fellow Jedi about their role in the galaxy, and she wasn't even one of them. No, by her own admission, she was first and foremost a warrior, like him. Primitive or not, Loki understood the value of a kindred spirit after a long year of discontent, drifting aimlessly through space aboard the Whaladon. In that humble handful of words, she had earned herself a generous helping of patience from him.

"The Jedi are also warriors, tasked with maintaining justice and order throughout the galaxy. There are no shamans, however. Hurry along, wookiee!"

The grey-furred wookiee gave an indignant huff and rose laboriously from his seat, he seemed not to have noticed the zabrack being discharged from the doctor's care. Then again, with all that singed fur, who could blame him for being a little distracted? Then there was only Ndonsa, and the boys, and between them they shared a lengthy silence, until:

"Have you ever seen a lightsaber?"

[Ndonsa]

No shamans. It made her feel uncomfortable, yet another example of how very far from Kuf she had come. Ndonsa shrugged at his question. "I do not know this word. A light... saber?" She thought about her exasperating conversations with Evil Dirk. "A sword of light?"

Her ears swiveled forward curiously. "We have no swords in my village, only spears." She thumped the butt of hers into the floor to emphasize her point, and the sick boy on the other side of Loki flinched. "The yellow-furs often carry swords, so I am told." She didn't think the tale of the first yellow furred Nehantites she'd encountered would go over very well, so she looked at Loki, expectantly.

"Is it the weapon of your people?"

[Abarai Loki]

"It is indeed. The lightsaber is an ancient and elegant weapon, synonymous with- I mean to say it is symbolic of the Jedi as much as it is an instrument of violence. In the hands of a Jedi Knight, the lightsaber outstrips all other weapons on the battlefield."

Loki watched Ndonsa carefully with his good eye. There was a time when the expressions and body language of a Nehantite were as incomprehensible to him as Huttese, but after many a long and sour exchange with Halajiin Rabeak - invariably as a result of some form of miscommunication - he now considered himself something of an expert. What he hadn't anticipated, however, was the great cultural gap that existed between a man like Hal and a woman like Ndonsa. And although they hailed from the same planet, they were world's apart in almost every way. Consequently, Loki was unsure whether or not his primitive companion was impressed by his lofty claims, or dubious.

In the end, it mattered to him not a jot what she thought of his words. Soon she would see with her own eyes, and until then he would continue to engage her on matters she found interesting. Normally, this kind of empathy was beyond Loki's reach, experience taught him as much and only a fool failed to recognise their own shortcomings. As it was, he was glad to leave diplomatic duties to more suitable candidates. But with Ndonsa, he was having little difficulty in finding common ground.

"Traditionally, we use swords, but there are exceptions: staves, gauntlets, pikes..."

Then a thought struck him, as he recalled the mongoose's words regarding her tribe; first, he took a moment to consider her, then said:

"Your people - are they raised as warriors from an early age?"

[Ndonsa]

The more he talked, the less his eyes seemed to bother him, so she indulged him with further conversation. Dirk had liked to talk as well. At home the whole tribe would have preferred to never have to speak with the shaman, so when circumstances forced them into her hut small talk was non-existent.

"As soon as a paw can grasp a spear a cub is trained in it's use." The answer seemed to please Loki, though nothing about his face or posture changed. "The land is full of tribes, ones we are friendly with and ones we are not. Deadly animals too, good for food but eager to remain free from the fire. A cub who cannot defend itself could be killed. No parent would neglect to teach their cubs our ways."

[Abarai Loki]

While she spoke, the pasty-faced boy was summoned into the next room. Curiously, the wookiee had not reappeared.

Loki checked his chrono with a frown. A visit to the doctor was a tedious affair; he was fortunate then that for him it was a rare inconvenience. Usually his injuries were combat related: cuts, bruises, sprains and strains. These were trifling complaints, well within the scope of his own healing abilities. Eyes burning from flower sap, on the other hand, was not something for which he imagined he'd ever need to prepare himself. In light of which, he wondered what Ndonsa would think of him, being the woman of the wilderness that she was.

Five minutes passed in silence; with his stoic companion at his side, it was a wholly comfortable silence. Then the boy shuffled from the doctor's room, gaping owlishly from under his blankets as he left the shack. Loki excused himself, and joined the doctor, who was a surprisingly young physician, recently recruited into the Alliance military, and his droid. Where the doctor was polite, soft-spoken, and knowledgeable, the medical droid was his antithesis: pushy, coarse, and had an approach to medicine that bordered on impetuous. At one point, when the droid hobbled away to retrieve a wholly unneccessary tranquiliser, the doctor quietly explained that his personality matrix needed recalibrating and that he was waiting on a replacement part. Whereupon he gave a gesture full of regret to the unconscious wookiee at the back of the room. So, before the droid could apply his tranquiliser again, the doctor treated Loki's eyes with a bacta-infused salve, and gave him a small bottle of eyedrops.

Ndonsa was on her feet the moment he reappeared; the sentiment was shared. Outside, the air was hot and dusty, with wind whipping torrents of red sand down the baking road. Loki paused to take in the panorama of the strange sprawling encampment around them.

"How much of this is strange to you?"

[Ndonsa]

"Everything," she said simply. The roaring ve-hick-els that floated over the bare soil were strange. What magic kept them in the air? Perhaps these Jedi were as powerful as Loki claimed they were. And the different sorts of people - she had studied pictures in Evil Dirk's computers so she had at least a notion of the many different kinds of people in the galaxy, but she had never seen them with her own eyes.

Ndonsa's necklaces jingled as she turned toward Loki. She nodded her head toward his bag, forgotten on his shoulder. "What did you need them for?"

[Abarai Loki]

"There's a man who wants to grow and study this plant. It was thought to have been long lost."

If everything was strange to Ndonsa, that was going to make communication a chore. Loki chose his words carefully, electing to simplify his language for the sake of the primitive woman, who would surely have no idea what a 'botanist' was, or what was meant by the term: 'extinction'. There was a limit to his patience, and having to say everything twice would undoubtedly exceed it. Instead, what soured his mood was the reminder that he would have to eventually return the collected seeds to Solborne himself.

And just as Loki was bracing himself for a visit to the hateful botanist, his thoughts were derailed. A speeder loaded with troopers zoomed past, making an awful din: there was the obnoxious honking horn backed up with a cacophony of whistles and hoots. Then a second speeder followed - the noise was atrocious. Innitially, Loki was stunned, and quite annoyed by the boorish display. It was until he glanced at his companion that an explanation dawned on him. He scowled in irritation.

"We need to get you dressed."

[Ndonsa]

She'd whirled toward the loud noises, spearpoint toward the vehicles, but the things had driven past, the beings in them hooting and hollering. Perhaps a war band on their way to battle? Ndonsa blinked at Loki, and looked down at herself again, the butt of her spear thumping to the dirt.

"I am dressed," she said firmly, her own brow furrowing in a mirror of his face. She looked around and could see that most beings in the camp were wrapped up in layers of robes, some with cloaks on top of it all despite the dry heat.

[Abarai Loki]

"Barely," said Loki, gesturing at her flimsy bikini and loincloth, "Those are the clothes people wear underneath clothes."

He started walking again, luring Ndonsa unwittingly towards the civillian supplies depot; it was an unworthy name for what was literally a big tent. Loki, who made a point of wearing only regulation clothing, had never set foot inside it. And with good reason. Traffic in and out of the tent was heavy, resulting in a noisy cluster of locals, armed with crates of food and folded wares, congregated outside the entrance. They conducted amongst themselves all kinds of unsavoury exchanges: vegetables for soap, cutlery for boots, male for female underwear. It went on like that, relentlessly and chaotic, until inevitably there were arguments, and that was when the nearby hovering troopers stepped in. When the crowd was dispersed, Loki and Ndonsa had a clear run to the depot, and as they approached, Loki had a sinking feeling that the real fun was about to begin.

"Ndonsa, you must understand that while you are here, the rules of your society do not apply. Here, men and women are expected to dress properly. It is the decent thing to do."

[Ndonsa]

The people around them were loud and obnoxious, and some had to be forcibly removed from the place to restore order. Her ears laid back at the chaos, pink eyes trying to take in everything around her and process them for threats.

She fixed Loki with a baleful stare, however, at his words. "The human I traveled with did not seem to mind. If this is not the case in all places..." Her body relaxed marginally as she gave him a nod. "I do not want to offend." The thought of covering up in layers of cloth was abhorrent, however. She couldn't help her lip curling in disgust as Loki began rifling through a pile of clothes.

Someone came up behind her, jostling her, and she reacted swiftly, one paw grabbing the being by the throat as she kicked their feet out from under them and sending them to the ground.

[Abarai Loki]

The man, Ndonsa's prey, fell to the ground with a crunch. Loki turned to find him struggling pitifully under his furry attacker. Around them, the alarmed crowd formed an almost perfect circle. His armful of clothes abandonned, Loki swept down beside the mongoose and her victim.

"Ndonsa, unhand this man!" he hissed, "You are here to buy clothes, not start a riot!"

[Ndonsa]

"I started nothing," she said, releasing the male's throat. "He pushed me." Ndonsa felt like a cub, being talked down to by an elder, and everyone was staring at her. The man scrambled to his feet, but she had simply dumped him to the ground, not tried to injure him. She got to her footpaws, feeling on edge and unwelcome, with many hostile eyes surrounding her.

She was not used to having to explain her actions, and it was an uncomfortable feeling. Her ears laid back and her tail bristled, puffing out larger as she began to feel cornered in a tent full of hostiles.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki rose to his feet. Although the incident was over, the crowd were still soaking up the spectacle of the strange, violent, semi-naked mongoose. There was no mystery behind her body language anymore; Loki had witnessed the same behavioural traits in Halajiin Rabeak -there was no substitute for instinct, after all. Ndonsa was poised, ready to pounce, and things would get ugly fast without an intervention.

"Go about your business!" he said, placing himself between Ndonsa and the crowd, "There is nothing to see here."

At first, they were hesitant, and exchanged glances. It seemed no-one wanted to be the first to obey the orders of a teenager in a tunic. Loki was unperturbed, and his voice rang out over the chorus of mumbles.

"That was not a request. Move!"

And finally, the crowd started to thin.

[Ndonsa]

She shifted her weight from one footpaw to the other and back again, stopping when the people around them moved away, driven by the unquestioned authority in Loki's voice. He sounded like a chief or war leader, so sure of himself, even if the ones around them were slow to admit they had to submit to his wishes. Ndonsa closed her eyes, the red no doubt in them was receding as the situation calmed.

When she opened them she turned to Loki, looking at the man who was still stiff with frustration, no doubt from having to deal with her deep jungle ways. "I am sorry. I am... unused to being ...low." She frowned. "The lowman. On the pole. This is a saying among humans, yes?"

[Abarai Loki]

"No," he reconsidered his answer, "I don't know. Perhaps. I am not versed in colloquialisms. Sayings."

Sensing there was nothing further to be said on the matter, Loki returned to the discarded clothes and picked out the first items he could lay his hands on. A brief exchange of credits was conducted with the stall owner before he led Ndonsa from the stifling tent. Once they were clear of the bustle of the supply depot, Loki found a quiet secluded spot in the shade of some large crates, and handed his companion her new clothes. Fortunately, Nehantite eyes were the biological equivalent of mood litmus paper, so he knew it was safe to proceed when he saw the cool hue of Ndonsa's eyes.

"Try those. They are about your size, I think," here, he did his utmost to sound confident. But in truth, there was little he knew about fashion outside of what he believed looked good on himself. Loki took pride in his appearance, and he liked those around him to look respectable, too. In his apprehension, he distracted Ndonsa from the potential horror of her new clothes with uncharacteristic small talk:

"You said you weren't used to being, as you put it, low. Does that mean a shaman was a person of status in your tribe?"

[Ndonsa]

"Yes," she said simply, holding the cloth Loki had given her this way and that, trying to figure out how it was worn. She eyed his own clothes for clues, and confidently stuck her arm through a tube of cloth, only to find it was much too long and covered her paw. Ah, these were for the legs.

Ndonsa leaned against the crates as she pulled on the clothes over her muscular legs and loincloth, but was stymied again when it was immediately apparent the item was made for a tailless human rather than a ring-tailed Kufu. She pulled her knife from her belt and twisted around, slicing a hole in the seat of the pants and making it work.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki folded his arms and studied Ndonsa from top to bottom. He gave a nod and said, "That will suffice."

While the outfit looked strange without footwear, her bare footpaws were not a problem. Throughout the galaxy there were many species, such as trandoshans, that were known for refusing to wear shoes - for some it was impractical and for others, like Nehantites, it was simply unneccessary. In her new clothes, Ndonsa looked miserable and he imagined she felt quite like he did whenever he was forced to wear civillian clothes: quite ridiculous.

"Ndonsa, you are clearly uncomfortable being away from your people and their customs. How did you end up here? Tell me about this... Dirk."

[Ndonsa]

The shirt was wrapped around her and secured with a belt of some kind which took some fiddling to figure out. "Evil Dirk - Dirk," she amended, and paused, pulling at the edge of the shirt to bring it tighter around her body. "He was on Kuf, looking for a talisman of evil. He was very ...he talked about evil a lot. I am not sure he knows what evil truly is."

Ndonsa gave up on getting the shirt to fit comfortably and began to pull her necklaces loose from where they were trapped beneath it. One was made of Kufu teeth, another of animal claws, the rest an assortment of beads. By themselves they were nearly enough to cover her "naughty bits" and Dirk would say. "I wanted to leave Kuf, and see more of the world. I went on his ship without him knowing, and ..." She shrugged. "He took me with him. I believe he was a simpleton, and harmless enough. It served my purpose, though he took me off world, a thing I did not know was possible."

[Abarai Loki]

Once Ndonsa had stopped fidgeting with her clothes, they left the cover of the crates and became a part of the ebb and flow of the camp. Away from the depot, crowds were thinner and the atmosphere considerably more relaxed. It was enough to put Loki at ease around the volatile mongoose. He considered her words. There was something about her story that didn't quite add up.

"You said you were a shaman - a leader amongst your people. Why did you want to leave them?"

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa walked silently long enough for Loki to think perhaps she hadn't heard his question. Abruptly she stopped on the dirt path, the wind swirling the dust around her footpaws. "I was to be shaman." Ndonsa hesitated, then faced the man Loki. "I... did not say the whole truth."

She still did not want to tell the whole truth, but Loki was obviously a leader of sorts among the Jedi, his voice commanding attention and obedience. Ndonsa did not want to start off on the wrong footpaw with him. Turning to face him, she said, "I trained to be the next shaman in my village, until the shaman was quite old and I was to take his place. My magic is greater than his was," she added, defensively. "But the chief decided he needed a new wife, and he chose me. So..." and she blushed with deep shame, the inside of her ears coloring, "I ran away, rather than submit to a life raising cubs and doing the bidding of his other wives."

[Abarai Loki]

On the surface, it sounded like Ndonsa had simply disobeyed her superior and fled her responsibilities, regardless of what they were. In the military, that kind of behaviour was intolerable and, in some cultures, soldiers were shot for less. Ndonsa was suitably ashamed, her voice had lost that hard edge and her tail was drooping. Loki was about to deliver the final blow with his own cutting words, when he saw a similarity between himself and the runaway mongoose.

His whole life he'd been raised to become a great warrior. He was defined by his purpose. He was a Jedi, and if someone tried to take that from him, to steal his identity, he'd do everything in his power to resist. In truth, it pained him to tackle trivial tasks, such as collecting seeds, even if it was for the greater good. The only time he was truly happy was when his lightsaber was in his hand. Ndonsa, who had been uprooted and hurled across the gulf of space, clung to her spear like her life depended on it. That, he respected.

"You were raised to be a great leader," he said, at last, "To have had your life's goal robbed from you must have been difficult. Now you must find a new identity."

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa grunted, looking off toward the distant trees from where they stood in the middle of the settlement. Words failed her, as a deep sadness and anger bubbled in her chest at Loki's words.

She looked at him, and narrowed her pink eyes. "And you, are you a leader here, or..." Ndonsa gestured to the bag of seeds he'd been gathering.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki followed her gaze to the dirty satchel of seeds, and ruffled with indignation.

"I am a Jedi Knight!"

The blank look that he recieved served only to vex him further, and he made a silent vow to be rid of his humiliating burden as soon as possible. Changing course, he cut through a cluster of busy astromechs and made a beeline for the botanist's greenhouse.

"I am not a member of the Jedi Council," he confessed at last, "That right is reserved for the oldest and wisest of our ranks. I do, however, hold some status amongst my peers and I train padawans in lightsaber combat."

[Ndonsa]

Some of his words she wasn't familiar with, but the context allowed her to glean what he was talking about. Ndonsa thought a "peer" was a fruit, for instance. She jogged a little to keep up with the man as he upped his pace, dodging a group of droids similar to Evil Dirk's. Less horns, though.

"Teaching others to fight is a high honor," she said, her spear on her shoulder as they worked their way through the village. "It means you have great skill. In my tribe the war leader often taught spear throwing and ...tech-nicks," she frowned lightly at the unfamiliar Basic word, "for war. The family unit is first responsible for one's defensive skills, but the best warrior is tasked with keeping the tribe strong through his fighting knowledge."

[Abarai Loki]

There was nothing of what she said that was untrue. He was a skilled swordsman, and there was indeed honour in training other warriors, which in itself was an avenue to respect amongst his fellow Jedi. Loki liked to feel respected, and he also liked being reminded why he was worthy of that respect. It was vanity, and he knew it. And it was part of a worrying trend of caring about what other people thought of him; a weakness he attributed to his blossoming social skills. He cast a glance back at Ndonsa, and found himself impressed by the way she carried herself, despite the alien nature of everything around her.

"I could teach you to fight like a Jedi, if you are willing to learn."

[Ndonsa]

The hot wind ruffled her short headfur, the clothes trapping the heat in uncomfortably against her fur. "I am a stranger among you," she said. "And you would teach me your ways? Do the Jedi teach all..." Ndonsa struggled for the right words, "all who...come to their village?"

It went without saying that being a stranger to a tribe where Ndonsa was from meant you were likely to end up with a spear in your belly, but these Jedi beings seemed...friendly. Loki was willing to show her around, not because of any awe of her magic or title, but because it appeared he thought it was his duty. To teach a potential enemy - and all strangers were enemies - your way of battle was like putting your breast to the spear point.

Asking for trouble, Evil Dirk would say. He was always asking for trouble, of course, and when it had arrived he had run off like a coward.

[Abarai Loki]

"Not anyone can become a Jedi. We look for qualities in an individual; qualities I believe you possess. Excuse me."

Having arrived at the greenhouse, Loki stepped inside, and through the dewy glass he could be seen marching towards a tall man in a labcoat. An entire bench of seedlings shuddered, such was the force with which he deposited his satchel of Aquilla seeds, and thereafter, not a word between them was spoken. A moment later, he was once again outdoors with Ndonsa. They walked at a more leisurely pace this time.

"Ndonsa, what you call magic, we call the Force. It is the source of a Jedi Knight's power. And I am curious to learn the extent of your abilities."

[Ndonsa]

She considered that for a moment. "All Jedi Knights do magic - the Force," she amended. Ndonsa raised an eyebrow at Loki. "But no chanting."

[Abarai Loki]

"Chanting isn't necessary. Only the correct frame of mind."

To emphasise his point, Loki levitated an astromech with a simple hand gesture. The droid gave a long electronic screech as it was slowly upended over Ndonsa's head. It circled in the air and landed softly beside the Jedi, who weathered a torrent of angry blips and beeps for his demonstration. Once the abusive astromech had rolled off, Loki returned his attention to his companion.

"When a Jedi is calm, and with a sound clarity of mind, he can call on the Force like a soldier calling on an ally."

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa stared at the floating droid, not quite impressed, but accepting his prowess in magic. The Force. What a strange name for magic.

"My magic requires a...build up. Dancing, chanting, to get into the right mind to cast it. Except for simple things," she said causing the retreating droid to fall over with an invisible push.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki stopped, and turned to face Ndonsa. His arms were folded and his face full of expectation.

"Show me," he said, simply. The mongoose had made quite a claim, and now he wanted to see her deliver on it.

[Ndonsa]

"What do you want me to do? There be rituals for battle, for healing..." She shrugged, "Love spells, curses... Not all work right away. Some do not work, but we tell the tribe they do."

Ndonsa smiled slowly. "There is one battle dance that is quite good. You will like."

[Abarai Loki]

"Love spells?" Loki repeated, with distaste, "No, I think your... battle dance will suffice."

There was a fragment of him that was doubtful, first, about being seen in the company of a singing dancing savage, and secondly, about the legitimacy of Ndonsa's lofty claims. Still, he'd too come far along to back down now. He retreated a step, and cast a wary glance at their surroundings.

"Provided, of course, that there will be no collateral damage."

[Ndonsa]

She stared at him a little blankly, then looked around. "Tell me what your co-ladder-all is, I will leave it be."

[Abarai Loki]

It took Loki a moment to make sense of her words, and once he understood, he felt rather depressed. It was becoming rapidly apparent that conversations with Ndonsa would be like pulling teeth. He frowned as he attempted to filter his words as if to accomodate an infant or a simpleton.

"Collateral damage is destruction to people or property that that is not intended and serves no purpose. In other words, I don't want you to damage anything around us with your demonstration."

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa nodded, and stood still for a moment, head bowed, eyes closed. They were standing in a relatively open area, about four spear lengths of space around them. She crouched and laid her spear on the ground in front of her, pointing ahead, and began rocking on the balls of her footpaws, back and forth, her necklaces clinking as she swayed.

The chants were mostly nonsense. As she had been taught, it was not the words that mattered but the intent behind them, so the shamanistic chants were a mixture of language and gibberish, even if it was gibberish that had been passed down for generations. Ndonsa sometimes wondered if the words had actually meant something at some point - an old language that had been forgotten for generations. This chant in particular started low, a quick flurry of words that were repeated over and over, growled from the back of the throat.

As the chant grew in volume, she rose up from her crouch, beating her breast and thrusting her arms to the sky as he body began to gyrate, entreating the gods for favor in battle and strength against enemies. Her blood grew hot, her eyes red, and her tail puffed up as she threw her whole body into the war dance, ending abruptly by slamming both paws on the shaft of the spear. A few spear lengths in front of the spearhead the ground exploded upward, showering the immediate area with clumps of dirt and rocks.

[Abarai Loki]

Much to Loki's dismay, Ndonsa's boisterous performance had attracted a small audience; as she groaned and convulsed, curious onlookers were pulled from the everyday monotony to enjoy the spectacle. What was, for Loki, a source of embarrassment, they found entertaining. That was until her battle dance climaxed with a small explosion and a geyser of debris which sent the spectators running.

Although he'd seen to it that there was a healthy distance between him and the gyrating savage, he picked up on something unexpected: emotions, rolling off Ndonsa in noxious waves. In casting her spell, she had tapped into something quite potent, and quite disturbing. Curiosity gave way to concern.

"That was an impressive display of power," he said, betraying none of his doubts, "Tell me, Ndonsa, what did you feel as you performed your battle dance?"

[Ndonsa]

"I feel the blood of my enemies boiling," she said, catching her breath. "The attack can be done again and again, it does not need such a long build up every time."

Ndonsa's eyes were fiery red, and she pointed to them. "There was once a shaman who could summon his rage without a dance. They say his magic was very strong."

[Abarai Loki]

"Of that, I have no doubt. Walk with me."

There was a note of authority in his voice, a tone he hadn't before taken with Ndonsa since their introduction. In the beginning, all he saw in her was a primitive with potential and, more importantly, a noble if simplistic mindset. The demonstration, and Ndonsa's explanation of it, however, changed everything. When he looked at the mongoose thereafter, with his cold narrowed eyes, he saw something utterly abhorrent. She was like a child playing pretend with a loaded blaster, and for that she called herself a warrior. It was an insult to everything in which he believed. Still, an ounce of patience remained, tempered by the fact that her brain was marginally larger than the average domestic nerf.

"Do you recall what I told you about how the Jedi call upon the Force? We train ourselves to be calm. Can you imagine why?"

[Ndonsa]

She did as he asked, striding beside him as he spoke. "There are few remaining among my people who actually can perform real magic, rather than offering medicines and traditions. I am the strongest my tribe has seen in generations. But the shaman, he did teach me what he knew, but his understanding and skill are far below me. I do not know any other way, and I do not know why you do it not the same."

Ndonsa eyed him. She had caught the change in his tone, and while she didn't know the word condescension she would have used it in her thoughts if she had.

[Abarai Loki]

"A Jedi Knight has great power, and in order to ensure that power is put to good use, his judgement must be sound. That is why we train to use the Force only when we are calm. Emotions like anger and hatred poison our judgement, and that is a risk we cannot take in carrying out our duties."

While he spoke, Loki had the unshakeable feeling that he was wasting his time. Ndonsa struggled to understand the most basic of words. How could she be expected to grasp concepts of morality that existed outside her own rigid code of honour? She was vessel to a lifetime's worth of small-minded nonsense, which must first be emptied from her head before anything of value could be learned. It was not a stretch to imagine she would not take kindly to an attempt to deconstruct her entire upbringing.

"Once your rage subsides and your enemies have been vanquished, then how do you feel? Does it feel good? Do you feel powerful? We call that the Dark Side of the Force."

[Ndonsa]

"What is wrong with feeling good, or powerful? Are Jedi not allowed to feel these things?" She meant no disrespect, and was genuinely curious. It was a strange place she'd found herself, and understanding the ways of the Jedi was important if she was to decide to stay with them.

And, she thought, she had already decided, hadn't she. Where else could she go?

[Abarai Loki]

"Jedi better themselves for the benefit of others. By our very nature, Jedi are both good and powerful, but we must not dwell on these things. Everything is duty."

Beside the Whaladon, there was a group of padawans gathered around a Jedi Knight: they were kneeling in the dust, heads bowed, hands in their laps. Statuesque, they meditated in dusty robes and with sand in their hair, weathered by the scorching wind like just another part of the ancient landscape. Loki nodded in their direction.

"Those who go on to be fully trained Jedi will be great warriors, but make no mistake, this is the life we lead. Solemn, solitary, simple. Can one such as yourself ever have the capacity for such an existence?"

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa regarded the group people, all deep in thought. It looked boring, but times of silence had their uses.

"A shaman is always alone," she said, "Even in the largest village. Except for when it is time to train my replacement I was prepared to be sol-ee-tary." She stumbled over the word, but resolutely continued. "Warriors go on the Long Hunt, days alone in the jungle following prey. This is not a new concept to me."

She shrugged, "A shaman is often honored, though feared also. We do not have friends. I am not looking for riches or power, as Dirk was."

[Abarai Loki]

"Very well. But can you let go of your rage and your bloodlust?"

He regarded Ndonsa dubiously. His concerns had been thus far quelled by her responses. It was clear that, in training to become the shaman of her tribe, Ndonsa had not only acquired some limited wisdom, but also the kind of traits befitting a Jedi. Promises were easily made; keeping them was another matter, and the primitive had a lifetime of instinct and tradition working against her best intentions.

"Turbulant emotions like that are not welcome amongst the Jedi."

[Ndonsa]

"I do not know," she said simply. "Do you never feel angry?" Ndonsa cocked her head to the side and studied the man. He was younger than her, but still this side of puberty and therefore a man in her eyes with the respect that went with it. Until he proved otherwise she would assume that he was capable and knew what he was talking about.

"Does nothing get caught in your fur? No," she frowned a bit, searching for the proper saying. "Under your skin."

[Abarai Loki]

“I…”

One syllable away from launching a full-blown defensive, Loki faltered; frozen, proud-browed and puffy-chested. In the moment it took him to reconsider the question, and his answer, he found himself faced with a philosophical quandary. Ndonsa’s words were inherently offensive: to ask him if he ever felt angry was akin to asking him if he was ever not a Jedi. He was, above all else, a Jedi; like the blood in his veins and the air in his lungs, it was a matter of fact, providing his very being with vital life. And yet, there were times when anger churned within him like a hot red tempest. It was a terrible truth to which he had been, in equal parts, blinkered and aware: he was a Jedi who felt anger. What was it, he wondered, that could ever reconcile such conflict?

“Control,” he said at last, with a nod, “A Jedi who feels anger must never act upon it; nor fear, or greed, or hate. It is behaviour unworthy of a Jedi Knight; such as your outburst in the supply depot, or your ... performance moments ago. You must understand, Ndonsa, your battle dance is an abomination."

[Ndonsa]

Her eyes narrowed, and she nodded her head toward the group of meditating padawans. "And if I choose not to do this? What then? You oppose my life, all I know, as an abomination. Is this to convince me your way is better?"

[Abarai Loki]

"Your opinion of us is irrelevant. If you choose not to follow the Jedi path then I will arrange for you safe passage off this world. That is unless you wish to live here... of your own accord."

So sour were the words in his mouth that Loki cringed with distaste. He could not imagine why any reasonable person would elect to live on such a desolate planet, unless they, like the Jedi, sought solitude and the riches entombed within the great library. And the stoic spear-wielding mongoose did not strike him as the archaeology type. His face hardened as he concluded his appraisal of Ndonsa.

"Frankly, I do not care which path you choose, as long as it does not interfere with our way of life. You have potential and skill; your needs are simple, and your manner, austere. These are the makings of a Jedi Knight, but I fear a lifetime of primitive traditions and aggressive instinct is working against you."

[Ndonsa]

Her fur bristled, but she replied calmly. "Insulting the traditions of my people is good. I spit on them. Why do you think I left? There is Nehantite among you, the yellowfur. The same instinct is in him, but he has a place."

Ndonsa folded her arms over the chest of the uncomfortable coveralls he'd gifted her with. "I will stay and learn your ways." And not be outdone by a yellowfur.

[Abarai Loki]

When the other Nehantite was brought up, Loki struggled to say nothing disparaging. Halajiin Rabeak's place amongst the Jedi had long been an issue of doubt for him. A sense of competition was a healthy motivator, however, and if that was what it took to transform this primitive into a Jedi, then he would not be the fool to intervene. He knew that look all to well, it was the look he saw everyday in the mirror: Ndonsa was adamant in her decision. She would become a Jedi if it killed her, unless she killed someone else first.

"Very well," he said, with grave resignation, "First you will prove yourself to my superiors, and then you will learn to love long robes and itchy tunics."

[Ndonsa]

"Itchy tunics, this is supposed to keep you from anger?" Truly these Jedi had strange beliefs. It wasn't like her skin would be irritated by fabric, though having her fur under covering all the time was going to take getting used to. Ndonsa shook her head, bemused. "Take me to your clan chief then."