Kreskor Hara: They Say Its a Two Way Street...

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan frowned slightly as he headed out of his quarters. He hadn't slept at all: any time he did fall asleep deeply, he had that terrible dream. It was 4 AM. Maybe something to drink would help.

So he walked down the west corridor of the Massai Temple that served as the quarters for the Jedi. Slowly, he rubbed his eyes.

"mm need coffee" he mumbled to himself as he entered the large kitchen that served the Jedi, and was empty. Morgan turned on the coffee maker, and had a glass of water in the meantime as it brewed. He sighed as he grabbed the cup, and sipped the dark liquid.

"mmmm warm" Morgan polished the coffee off, setting the mug into a cleaning unit as he headed out the door and into the jungle.

--

A loud groan came from the top of a tree above Yavin IV's jungle floor. The sunlight had worked its way through the canopy. The Jedi Knight yawned wide, and began to stretch his arms out until he teetered to one side, and fell off. His eyes went wide, and he grabbed the branch he had so recently occupied, the claws on his left hand digging into the bark. Morgan shook his head back and forth. That ear De'Ville damage still acted up when he first got up. He yawned again, and worked his way down the tree and headed back to the dining hall.

After he had shovled food down, Morgan glanced at his wrist chrono and sighed. He was slightly late. Depositing his dishes into a cleaning unit, the Knight made due haste to the spot he had told his Apprentice to meet him. The large Barabel was there.

"G'morning Kreskor. If you'd indulge me, I'd like to try something. Just a little exercise. I want you to close your eyes. Now I'm going to walk around you, and you shouldn't be able to hear or see me even if you do open your eyes. But if you concentrate hard enough, you should be able to point at me."

The Jedi Knight twisted the light about him, and silently snuck to the left of the Barabel and ten meters to his left. Morgan leaned against a tree trunk, and closed his eyes, trying to accentuate his presence instead of minimizing and spreading it about.

[Kreskor Hara]

Kreskor's eyes immediately shut as his Master had instructed. All the excitement and the anticipation he was experiencing before had completely slipped from his mind. The Barabel was ready to begin his training. He balled his clawed hands into tight fists and pushed all of his thoughts to the back of his mind. Kreskor remembered an old saying his parent had taught him, that trying too hard would result in loss. The Barabel unclasped his hands and felt his mind, empty and focused.

Kreskor had felt this way before. During the hunt, when he was pursuing his prey, he could feel their presence. Usually these feelings came right before the area around him opened itself up to him. The feelings came with the foreboding sense of danger, except that was different this time. Kreskor felt as though he was in a safe environment. At least this time, no one had a blaster trained on his head. Had he not trusted his instincts, he would have been a red smear on a brick wall.

To his right, Kreskor felt something that could have been a tree. He could faintly feel the 4 Pirahna beetles that clung to the tree and sucked off its nutritious sap. Skyward, Kreskor felt something fly by, probably some sort of bird creature. The Padawan pushed even further with his senses, keeping his concentration. Below him, a worm wiggled beneath the ground. Sweat began to form on Kreskor's face as he pushed out with his senses even further. He knew that Morgan was nearby, and he knew that he would be capable of finding him.

The Barabel's head twitched left. He had felt something strong, although it was only for a few seconds. His concentration had not yet been broken, so he assumed the status quo. Kreskor pushed out again with the Force, and felt this area of the jungle open itself up to him. The lives nearby, both small and large circulated through his bones and filled him with a refreshing feeling, one felt when they sipped a drink they favored, or ate a meal they enjoyed. Although all of these lifeforms were shadowed by something to Kreskor's left. The padawan focused all of his senses on that lifeform.

It is Morgan Evaner, undoubtedly. This one has become familiar with his presence.

The Barabel gave no more thought to the matter. He raised his hand and extended a scaly digit ten meters to the left of him, where he sensed the life force. Kreskor kept his eyes closed, confident that he was correct in his finding.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Nice" he said after his cloaking had completely dissapeared. Morgan leaned back against the tree and scratched his chin.

"I'll be right back. I need to get some things." The Jedi Knight ran off for about five minutes, and then ran back with a burlap sack that clanked with each step.

"Had to find something that would fit you." He turned the bag over and out dropped the items onto the grass. Out rolled a very large flight helmut with tape over the visor, a remote and a lightsaber.

"I know, unoriginal, but I thought it would be a simple way for you to adapt, especially with you backround." Kreskor looked slightly confused.

"Well, I'll show you." Morgan turned the remote and lightsaber on. He closed his eyes. The remote began to float about, and let loose a few blasts, all of which Morgan deflected easily back into the remote. He deactivated the lightsaber and handed it to Kreskor.

"You did pretty well with finding me. This is going to be a bit trickier, but I think you'll do ok." The Knight offered the large helmut to the Barabel.

[Kreskor Hara]

The Barabel took the helmet and stared at it. It was obviously meant to block his vision while he practiced deflecting bolts with the lightsaber. He also took the lightsaber, rather awkwardly at that. Kreskor Hara had never used a lightsaber before, let alone seen one. He was reluctant to use one, but it was better now then never. Kreskor put the helmet on, it was almost too small for him, but with a little extra force it fit on. His eyes were no longer any use to him, as long as the blast shield was down. He couldn't see a thing, but he could still feel some things, such as Morgan beside him, and even the probe droid, swivelling back and forth, waiting for him to ignite the weapon.

Kreskor Hara did just what the remote droid wanted, and ignited the blade. It thrummed to life with a snap-hiss and filled the air with a slight humming sound. Instantly, he felt the remote droid swivel to the left. At the same time, it shot at him rapidly. Kreskor slashed forward with his blade, and managed to block nothing. He staggered down on one knee, not from pain but from surprise. The blaster bolt setting was on low, and would do no harm to him, other then pinch his scaly skin.

~ Open yourself up to the Force. Do not think...Feel. ~

The Barabel could hear Morgan's voice in his head, urging him on. He let a small hiss out, and closed his eyes, adding to the blindness. Kreskor pushed out with the Force, probing the living creatures around him. Although the droid was not living, it was still part of the Force. Everything was a part of the Force. It was as if Kreskor had a new pair of eyes, everything was displayed to him through a clear window that could not be described in words. The remote droid dropped a few centimeters and moved slightly to the right. Again it shot at Kreskor, but this time the Barabel saw the bolt. It came forward to him, in slow motion. He rose the blade up quickly and blocked the shot perfectly. The blaster bolt bounced to the ground and was absorbed by the soil.

It did not stop at that one attack. The remote droid released two more shots, one heading for Kreskor's neck, and the other for his foot. Kreskor watched them coming, using the Force to determine the distance between the two bolts. He brought the lightsaber up in a defensive position, and deflected the bolt. Almost as quickly, he swung it down in a full arc, knowing he would not cut off a leg. The Jedi weapon effectively deflected the bolt right back into the remote droid. Kreskor hissed, a Barabel's laugh. He'd never felt so open to the Force, it was a wonderful feeling.

He rolled to the side and brought his saber up to bear. Another bolt came at him, but Kreskor deflected it away, into the bark of a tree. He could feel where the next bolt was going to hit, just above his stomach. Kreskor jumped up and swung the lightsaber down, batting the bolt back into it. He used his body to propel him right onto a trunk and jumped down right beside Morgan. His back was turned to the probe droid, but he pushed the lightsaber down, over his shoulder and deflected the beam with excellent skill. Another was released, but Kreskor couldn't stop it in time. It pinched his back, causing him to jump forward a bit from surprise.

The Barabel removed the helmet and deactivated the lightsaber. Just as soon, the remote droid stopped attacking and just hung there in open air. Kreskor used his free hand to try and rub his back.

"How did this one do?" Hara asked.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan wasn't sure how well Kreskor had done, actually. Still, he had solid flow with the Force, and was comfortable with it.

"That was impressive." It was. No lie in that statement. Morgan decided he was still bad at this, and probably should do a little historical legwork to understand more. But he still had several hours ahead of him with Kreskor.

Under a shooting scenario. Perhaps it wouldn't come in as strong if he didn't feel threatend. Hmmmmm.

The Knight walked over to the remote, and deactivated it. He tossed the dead weight a few times in his hand, staring at it.

"Kreskor. Catch." Morgan tossed the disabled remote over his shoulder a few seconds later, arching it to exactly a foot in front of his Padawan. Metal hit Barabel flesh with a slight clang.

"Toss it back."

The process repeated itself for fifteen minutes, gradually increasing in speed.

"Alright. Pick up the helmut. I want you to try and catch it with it."

Helmut in hand, the Barable nodded. Evanar coiled up, bringing his right foot upward, and let loose, using all two meters of his body to hurl the remote at 150 km/h precisely 15 centimeters to his left.

[Kreskor Hara]

Kreskor Hara was slightly confused when Morgan Evaner first handed him the helmet. After a few moments of thought, he realized this to be another sensing technique. Using his sensing abilities through the Force, he was to catch the remote that Morgan would throw at him. Except this time, he would have to do it blindly. Unquestioning the activity, the Barabel warrior slipped the helmet on and pulled it over his scaly face. Once again, his eyes were shrouded in a veil of darkness. The convient terms of word meanings that had been bestowed upon him at birth dictated that he was blind.

This one knowz that eyes are useless when once possessez the Force... Kreskor smiled a toothy grin at himself. Months ago, he would never catch himself saying something as foolish as what he'd just thought. Now it all seemed to make sense to him. The only factor of foolishness was the way he'd been living life up until now. If he practiced his studies day and night, he would be fit enough to begin hunting down Sith. Then perhaps he could re-visit his mother for a brief time and tell her of all these adventures.

These thoughts were running through his mind a mile a minute. It was hard to focus on the living force around him, and that caused him to miss the first catch. Kreskor cursed himself silently, for allowing his mind to slip away from the present time. Parent once said that one must constantly be aware of the presssent... Kreskor jerked upright at the sound of his brother's voice in his head. What he had heard reminded him of old times, but he whisked those thoughts away. The present was now, and it was important.

He pushed out with his senses again, keeping his mind concentrated on the jungle around him. Hara felt the remote just a few feet to his left. He bent down on one knee and reached out with a scaly claw. The claw ran across something smooth as it touched the ground. He dug his hand into the ground and pulled the remote up into the air. The residue of dirt easily slided off of his dark hand.

"Apologies Master..."

Kreskor hissed inwardly and threw the remote back to Morgan. The Jedi Knight caught it and ran his hand over a smidge of dirt on the back. He threw it back to Kreskor, at the same speed as before. Kreskor felt it surge through the Force, and moved slowly. He dove to the left and caught it with one fist, managing not to crush or damage the piece of metal.

The Jedi Padawan hit the ground lightly and rolled. His tail put him back on his feet in a matter of seconds. Moments later Kreskor threw the remote back to Morgan, wondering how he did in his Master's eyes.

[Morgan Evanar]

While Morgan had never done this before, Kreskor certainly had accelled. Slowly, he smiled.

"That was impressive Kreskor. And now for something completely different." He pulled the lightsaber from off the ground, and then tossed it to the Barabel. Slowly, he wandered away till he was about 20 meters distant. Back turned, he drew a small holdout blaster from an ankle holster, and turned the power down to non-lethal levels.

Upward the Jedi Knight sprung, twisting, unloading the small weapon rapidfire at the trainee.

[Kreskor Hara]

OOC: Whoops >_< Edited it.

IC: Kreskor stared at the object dumbly, wondering what would happen if he pierced himself with the blade. Slowly, he brushed his claw against the ignition button. The Barabel was tempted to press it, but first he wondered what Morgan was going to do.

The Barabel put a hand up to shield his eyes from the patches of sun that pierced through the jungle tops. It seemed that Morgan was going to use a hold-out blaster on Kreskor. Instantly, memory kicked in and Kreskor saw a vision of the past. He remembered seeing a Jedi on Nar Shaddaa once. The Jedi had smartly used his lightsaber to deflect blaster bolts in a bar. The spectacle had been amazing to watch, but Kreskor wasn't sure if he could do it. He received some confidence when he saw Morgan adjust the settings on the blaster. Hopefully he would be able to stop most of the incoming shots.

Snap-hiss

Kreskor Hara thumbed the weapon on and held it clumsily. Morgan began to shoot at him, with a salvo of blastefire. Kreskor used the lightsaber as a baseball bat, trying to swing at some of the beams. Naturally, he missed on the first salvo. Most of the bolts ticked his scales, causing him to hiss.

Morgan rose the blaster up again and unleashed four shots of energy. Kreskor breathed slowly and let the Force guide his actions. He watched as the bolts slowed down considerably. This allowed Kreskor the precious seconds he needed to properly deflect them with his borrowed lightsaber. The Jedi weapon batted away the first bolt, and absorbed the second. Kreskor's response was a little slow on the third and fourth. He was unsuccessful in blocking the third bolt, and it ticked him in the lower shoulder. This left Kreskor open in surprise long enough for the last bolt to strike him in the leg.

"This one needz practice." Kreskor hissed, a sound that sounded almost like a laugh.

Around the third time that Morgan shot at him, the Barabel padawan found it easier. His mind flowed more freely, and his reactions were quicker. He managed to block all but one of the shots that came to him. Kreskor beamed a mouth full of pointy teeth that would make a normal man shudder. Morgan was probably used to seeing predator-type races.

He brought the lightsaber up again, finding that he felt more comfortable with the weapon. His fear for the weapon and its power was slowly fading away as he used it more and more. Kreskor waited to see what Morgan would do next.

[Morgan Evanar]

Kreskor seemed to excel at tracking objects with the force, and was begining to get the hang of the lightsaber. And now he had to learn that the lightsaber was not a perfect weapon.

Morgan straightend his right arm, turned his hand sideways, and let the blaster fall to the soft forest floor. He stared hard into Kreskor's eyes for a good minute. Slowly, something of a sly grin came to his lips. Barabel were hard to read, but his eyes showed a bit of concern.

His flashed his teeth for a moment. Another five seconds passed. The Jedi suddenly became a flury of motion, the outstreched hand became streak as it reached to the shoulder holster, and a silver streak as it returned straight. Morgan pulled the trigger twice, firing two pelets of highly compressed air.

Kreskor's hands moved the saber to intercept his instructor's invisible shots. He did "block" the first one, which sent the saber to the side, and off balance. The second magnetic seal broke on Krekor's body, just below his neck, flipping him onto the forest floor.

[Kreskor Hara]

Kreskor Hara had been surprised quite a few times in his life. He could remember once when a pack of Gran took him completely by surprise and almost killed him in the process. He was surprised to hear that his brother died, and saddened too. He'd fallen into a trap once or twice, Nar Shaddaa was a murderor's resort in all but name. Everyone wanted a piece of Kreskor and whoever he was working for. But never once had the Barabel underestimated his enemy...

...The Barabel rose his scaly head off the ground and instinctively wiped the dirt off of his chin. His eyes shone bright black in whatever sunlight was provided to them. His senses were alert, not only through the Force but through his own hunting senses. Kreskor pinched his lower lip with one of the pincers he called a tooth and emit a low toned growl. He stared at the de-ignited lightsaber in his right claw. It seemed even these weapons had defections. Not a surprise really, Kreskor was taught that nothing was perfect except maybe the Force itself.

Underestimation...This one iz ashamed... Kreskor shook his head slowly, having a few brief flashbacks of the smuggler's moon. His eyes turned to lock on Morgan Evaner, who was not too far away. Kreskor slowly walked over to the Jedi Knight who was now his Master. He wore an emotionless look, but his eyes seemed focused. Training so far had been interesting, to say the least. Kreskor found that a whole new world had been opened up to him. Everything seemed so simple, yet so complex at the same time. Perhaps one day he would understand the minor aspects of the Force...If that day ever came.

"What is that weapon you use, Master?" Kreskor eyed the device he held. Whatever the bullets were, they were enough to knock a lightsaber off-course. But he hadn't seen anything with his better-than-human vision. Kreskor regarded any kind of weapon with care. Though it was barely visible, Kreskor did not possess a fifth toe on his left foot. The fourth time he ever used a blaster, it misfired and shot his toe right off, nail and all. Ever since that experience, the Barabel was rather careful when using firearms or vibroblades.

"It knocked this one to the ground in a matter of secondz...Such a thing iz not an easy tasssk..." The Barabel hissed a bit, a noise that was natural to him. He couldn't help his hissing problem. All Barabels had it, along with gutteral voices that suited their daunting appearance very well.

[Morgan Evanar]

"Its called a Desert Eagle. Its an ancient weapon that used a powder to create a small chemical explosion that expelled a hunk of metal. A slugthrower. But its not exactly that anymore." He pulled the slide back, dropping the clip out, which he caught.

"Now its a bit of a different beast. Theres a bunch of superconducting wire coiled around inside around the barrel." Morgan lifted up the black "clip" in his hand. "Now this neat bit of technology I, uh, aquired a while ago, compresses air into small packets that break open on contact. Because the air is so compact..." Morgan slid the clip home again, and flicked a small switch on the side of the gun. He aimed it a the trunk of a very large oak, and pulled the trigger. This time, the air packet was very blue, and upon impact, cracked with a boom of electrical engergy.

"It holds a nice charge. I can also fire metal slugs, too."

[Kreskor Hara]

Kreskor's eyes washed over the Desert Eagle like a child eyeing a new toy in front of a store. He'd never seen such a complicated firearm with so many talents on the lower levels of Nar Shaddaa. Most of the smugglers carried DL-44s, trying to imitate the effect that Han Solo once had in his early days as a Rebel. Others had sniper rifles, batons, vibro-blades and all sorts of weapons. But he'd never seen or heard of a Desert Eagle before in his whole life.

He hissed a little when Morgan referred to his weapon as a beast. The hiss was a laugh, he'd never heard someone call a gun a beast before. Kreskor could tell that Morgan was well versed in the world of weaponry. The Jedi Padawan wouldn't be surprised if he was affiliated with the New Republic Munitions corps, or even the New Republic Special Forces. Evaner would be a valuable asset to either of the sects with his knowledge and skill.

"This one is interested...Where did you find the Desert Eagle?"

He remembered Morgan calling it an ancient weapon. Kreskor didn't know why, but he sudden had an urge to learn more about the past. He wondered if this Desert Eagle even pre-dated the Old Republic, which was quite old before it crumbled. Either way, it was still a powerful weapon to be used against an opponent, such as a Sith.

[Morgan Evanar]

"It was a joke heirloom, actually. Supposedly has been in the family for a few millenia." Morgan stated, his Tanaabian accent coming on a bit thick. "Only thing thats really left of it is the frame and the slide. Most people are sort of confused when I draw it, but they look at the size of the barrel and get the hint."

"You figured out that the lightsaber isn't a perfect weapon, did you?" The Barabel nodded.

"Good. Its a very good weapon. Much better than most. But like any weapon, the weilder is far more important. You're much more effective than a lightsaber. Remember, a lightsaber can't negotiate a peace treaty. So far, I've mostly focused on combat related skills, because its an area you have a solid foundation in. Now, its time for an area of the unknown." He pulled his lightsaber off of his belt, and flicked it into the air. Leaving his hand open, Morgan closed his eyes. The saber slowed in the air and flew back until it slapped his palm.

"When I started, I was so unbelievably bad at this, so any progress at all is something." Gently, Morgan set his lightsaber on the ground.

"You practice that. I'm going to get something to drink. Want anything?"

[Kreskor Hara]

"No thankz, Master Evaner." Kreskor shook his head slightly. A drink would just distract him from the task at hand. He wanted to fully concentrate on completing every task set before him. The Barabel was surprised to hear himself say that he didn't want anything to drink at first. It was a rarity whenever he denied his stomach. Kreskor had convinced himself that he was in hard training to become a Jedi Knight in the future.

His claws clasped around the cool metal of the lightsaber, as he'd done before during his blaster bolt blocking exercises. This time around the weapon did not seem so dangerous to him. Kreskor was spared of that worried feeling in the bowls of his mind. He knew there was still a chance he could damage himself if said lightsaber was ignited. For some reason this fact did not seem to sprout fear in him. He noted the oddness, and resolved to think about it later.

With a flick of his wrist, Kreskor pitched the lightsaber high into the air. Kreskor quickly shut his eyes and began to focus on the world around him. He could feel everything through the Force once again, even the lightsaber above him. Kreskor was unsure of how to keep the moving object float above his head. Before he knew it, his eyes were forced open to greet a world of dizziness. The metal object had smacked him on the top of the head.

A sissing sound escaped from his nose as he tried to push away the sudden pain. Kreskor was a bit angry at himself for having failed so easily. Morgan's words had consoled him somewhat, but he still felt that he could do better. He rubbed his head where the lightsaber had struck. It failed to avert the majority of the pain.

Once again the lightsaber was thrown, this time it was pitched forward. Kreskor focused again, letting his senses flow. This time, his pinpoint of the lightsaber was faster, but not by much. He felt it through the Force and quickly imagined the lightsaber floating back toward him, instead of away. Kreskor opened his eyes, but kept his concentration. The lightsaber had stopped and was now ever so slowly coming back to him. When it was just a meter in range from his hand, he lost concentration and the weapon fell to the ground.

Sweat droplets formed on the back of his scaly neck. This time he was aiming for something easier. Something that he could do without so much work. Kreskor held out his palm, with the lightsaber cushioned between his claws. He closed his eyes and shifted them upward, as if directing the motion of the saber. The weapon rose above his hand just a few inches. He held it there for about three seconds until he rose it higher with the Force. After about eleven seconds, it dropped smoothly into his hand.

Kreskor was surprised at how much the activity had taken out of him. He'd only worked this hard when he was physically training and yet he had barely moved. It was at that moment, the Barabel realized how much he still had to learn about the Force.

[Morgan Evanar]

Mmmm... when lemons abound, make lemonade. It was reaaaly good lemonade. Kreskor was missing out. Then again, perhaps Barabels didn't like lemonade, or it was bad for them.

Morgan realized that he didn't know too much about Barabels. He certainly needed to educate himself.

Having successfully destroyed a large sandwich, the Jedi Knight returned to where Kreskor sat.

"I think we are done with exercises for the day. If you'd like, you can join me for lunch. I'd like to know more about Barabels in general, because I'm simplly ignorant. For instance, whats your stance on lemonade?"

[Kreskor Hara]

Kreskor smiled once again to his Master, proudly flaunting his oversized fangs as they filled his mouth. This was the first time anyone had paid an interest to his kind and their preferences. All of the denizens on Nar Shaddaa had simply assumed Kreskor liked the other white meat and kept their distance. He didn't really feel offended by it, but at the same time it did not make him happy. Unlike other Barabels who felt powerful when they intimidated others, Kreskor knew it accomplished nothing. Intimidation had saved his life a few times, but he couldn't help it. According to human standards he was something out of a bad nightmare.

It was not uncommon for Kreskor to find himself in a bar brawl once or twice. The xenophobic idiots always had something to say about other races. Hara had never actually killed in anger or out of anger, but there were those rare occasions when he felt the big mouths needed to be taught a lesson. The bar brawls had been fun, he could not deny that. The loud shouts and cheers from the onlookers, the feeling of having a bottle of lomin-ale smash on your head. To a normal human, this would cause some damage, but most of Kreskor's skin was built to withstand glass shards. Now that those days were over, he entered a new era in his life. Instead of hunting and capturing for credits, he would help those in need.

"Lemonade is not sold or brewed on Barab I. This one has tasted it on Nar Shaddaa." Kreskor peered at the glass, recalling the taste of the sweet drink. It was non-alcoholic and made mostly of sugar and water. Yet, it was not a bad drink. "Lemonade is a good drink, but it alwayz leaves this one thirsty for more."

Allowing both of his arms to hang at his side, Kreskor felt a bit exhausted. A break was a good idea, if only for ten minutes. He inferred that the Force had taken a toll on his physical state, but not severly. With time, Kreskor knew that he would be able to use the Force with ease. Perhaps if he practiced enough, that time would be soon.

"The Barabelz are accustomed to drinking alcoholic beverages, such as Corellian Brandy, vast amountz of Alderaan ale, and Corellian Whiskey. This one is not much of an alcoholic, but Whyrenz Reserve is quite good once in a while." Kreskor's eyes shone as he explained the fundamentals of Barabel drinking habits to Morgan Evaner. Barab I was packed, no infested with all sorts of taverns and such.

The Jedi Padawan took a seat on a nearby log. The patch of rotting wood beside him proved to be no hinderence in his choice of seats. Insects crawled all over it, catching a slight glance from Kreskor. He disregarded them with no interest at all.

"Barabelz are mainly hunterz and predatorz. Their hunting habitz reflect those of the Wookiees. This one is sure we are better hunterz than them. Wookiees are too slow for their own good." The Barabel chuckled at what he said, regarding it as a joke. Barabels were amused by the oddest things in the Galaxy. One could never predict what they would find funny next. This was a common reason why the Barabels never attempted stand-up comedy.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan looked somewhat sideways at the last comment. However, he did recongize a Barabel laugh, and the limited time he had spent with others of the same species prior to meeting Kreskor had led him to believe that the species simply had a collectively bizzare sense of humor. And it seemed that Kreskor was no exception to that observeration.

Nonetheless, he found it amusing that his Padawan was amused, and as such, smiled.

"Now there is much more to the Force than motion detection and visual trickery. One of the more important things you must do is learn how to listen to it. As someone who is more adept and in touch with the Force, it is our obligation, no, one of our duties, to listen to what it has to say."

Morgan sat on a patch of grass, and neatly crossed his legs, and motioned for Kreskor to do the same.

Kreskor did, and the Jedi continued: "Consider the Galaxy. Picture it. It is a large, beautiful, busy place. Then consider the sheer amount of life there: the billions upon billions of creatures, sentient and non-sentient. Try and picture a planet, perhaps one your are familiar with. Now pick a spot on that planet and listen."

[Kreskor Hara]

Kreskor Hara followed his master in suit and sat down on the grassy ground. The insects below him did little to discomfort him, for he was used to insects in the filthy bars of Nar Shaddaa's less respectable side. Kreskor wasn't too sure if Nar Shaddaa and respectable even belonged together. The dirty filth was evident on every single square meter of the planet, save for a few rich hotels that could mask it very well.

He closed his eyes tightly and considered everything his Master told him. A map of the Galaxy floated before his eyes that he'd seen on the Navicomputer of the ship that had brought him here. There were so many planets, but only essential ones were represented on the map that he saw. Kreskor was midly disappointed that his planet was not among those on the map. He partly blamed that on the Imperials who obviously crafted the virtual map. He'd noticed almost no predominant alien planets. Even a hotspot resort like Mon Calamari was not present.

The footsteps and chatter of trillions of people filled his head like a million noisy airbus stops. The sound didn't bother or agitate him, but filled him with all sorts of different feelings. He felt as though he was with each and every one of these beings, experiencing their lives with them, day in and day out. It was an exhilirating feeling, like one felt when they managed to catch their prey and display it before all their friends.

"Try and picture a planet, perhaps one your are familiar with. Now pick a spot on that planet and listen." Morgan instructed in a calm voice.

Kreskor did exactly what he was told and pictured the destroyed planet of Alderaan. He'd befriended an Alderaanian man in one of the Nar Shaddaa cantinas and had viewed some of the holopictures of the planet. The monuments and the lush gardens, he felt the deceased come alive once again. Then his mind shifted to another beautiful planet he'd seen pictures of. It was quite simple to make those pictures come alive when he felt the Force flow through him. This planet was the infamous Corellia, filled with its endless fields of flowers and forests. Everything was all so full of life, Kreskor felt a smile on his face.

"This one can feel it Master." Kreskor whispered.

[Morgan Evanar]

Morgan's visit went somewhere entirely unexpected. SR-528, just north of the Varko sector. The seasonal vegetation had died off, and it looked rather desolate and cold, which was normal for a seasonal desert at night. Near the mouth of the cave, a small fire burned.

The Jedi's traveling self blinked, and pointed for a moment. Desperately trying to logic the whole situation out for a second, it quickly decided it didn't suit the events and tossed it out the window. Still, Morgan blinked again. A figure near the fire rose to his feet and wandered over. It looked rather like an old man, but was obviously in the spectral realm of the Force.

"Hello, great knight."
Morgan blinked.
"Err, hi."
"We've been wating for you to be ready for some time now. About 30,000 of your years."
Two blinks this time. This was a bit weird.
"I'm sure you could have picked someone else."
The old man shook his head, white beard tips flitting about with the wind.
"Nope. Wouldn't physically fit anyone with the correct moral compass. Didn't fit you originally either. Lucky that changed."

"What wouldn't fit?"
The old man seemed mildly taken aback, and then got his bearing back together.

"Hrm, no don't suppose you ever did see it." He stated, rubbing his beard.

"See what?"

"The armor. It goes with the sword." Explained the old man.

"Oh." Morgan said simply.

"Well, you can come get it now. The 'bug-like' things have moved to the deeper caverns for the winter. They don't really like the cold." He smiled slightly. "Take care of yourself, Knight."

Kreskor seemed to be looking at him intently for a response as he came around.

"What was that, Kreskor?"