From an order long forgotten.

[imported_Mr. Flux]

The 'young' boy garbed in his black robed attire slowly stepped into the Bar and Grill. The security nearly stopped him, until he looked up from underneath the hat he wore. His face small; easily placed at the age of twelve, even less. But his eyes held eternity; a life time of transgressions. He blinked under the hat, the light from the bar, illuminating his pale face.

"Oh; I'm terribly sorry, I forgot. Here you are, gentlemen."

His small, yet raspy voice replied. He withdrew a small cylindrical object; fine yet elegant. It wasn't fancy whatsoever, it had only a small trigger on it, or rather, a button. It was a lightsaber's hilt. He placed it on the table that they had prearranged there. He nodded to the two burly men before he moved inwards.

The Guardian looked back and forth in the bar; to see if his younger brother had made it yet.

[Mr Dust]

It had been a rather trying day, and Mr. Dust wanted nothing more than to rest at the Bar & Grill, enjoying a lovely cup of tea. As he enters, he moves through, wondering if his elder brother had arrived yet. He had received word several weeks ago stating that he would be arriving shortly. He scans the crowd and notices a being that should be far too young to be in a Bar. As he moves closer, his suspicions are confirmed. With an uncharacteristic burst of emotion, he greets his brother.

Mr. Flux! My brother, how good it is to see you!

Suddenly aware of this rather... improper behavior, he composes himself quickly. In a much more controlled tone, he continues.

Welcome to Coruscant, Mr. Flux. I trust your trip was pleasant? Good. Now, have you settled in yet? More importantly, have you been accepted to the Academy?

[Mr Pulse]

-The black-clad, gaunt gentleman strolled slowly up to the B+G, the bustle of people seemed to naturally part before him.

His sight swept the establishments outside, using his tuned sight to observe for (and make a mental note of) any structural weaknesses in the construction.

His dark eyes moved down from the higher parts; peering strait in, the turquoise pupils seemed to look strait through the people; in a manor, they were.-

[Mr. Quick]

Quick is the next to step inside. By now, surely someone must have noticed the umpteenth bald, black clad man. The security has, as one guard is about to ask what exactly they're all doing there.

"Ah-ah-ah," Quick admonishes with a light-hearted wag of his finger. "Bad form, prying into other's business."

He hands over his saber and steps forward.

Dust is chatting with Flux. Quick nods respectfully to them, greeting them without disrupting their conversation, and seats himself at their table.

[Mr. Thrash]

Following shortly after the tall pale gentleman was another, simalarily clad in a black coat and hat. He was thin in an athletic manner and slightly taller than average, close to 6' 4", but other than that he appeared as the other 3 men who had entered did. Though he did seem to slightly bulge at the sides; as if there were things concealed beneath his coat and in his right hand he held a curved walking stick that measured nearly 2 meters.

As he approached the guards he nonchalantly unbuckled his overcoat and spread it open. Handing the first guard his curved walking stick he reached inside his cloak and withdrew two short curved blades in their sheathes and handed them to the guards, then reached back and pulled out two long knives from the behind the small of his back. As he handed the guards his blades, a small silver coing wrapped in an odd colored and textured fiber rope dangled from his undershirt.

"Pardon me," He spoke in a soft yet throaty accent, as he swiftly pushed the coin back into his shirt.

"Here is your walking stick sir," One of the guards replied as he began to hand this odd man.

"No I'm afraid that my 'walking stick' does not meet your specifications for acceptable paraphenillia within this establishment. I will come back for it upon taking my leave, thank you gentlemen."

Both guards looked back at the man slightly taken back and then shrugged placing the staff with the rest of the weapons.

As he approached the others who sat at the table he removed his hat and bowed his head.

"I apologize for my tardiness, I had to be detained at the door for routine weapon confiscation. I do hope that you will allow me this small delay."

[imported_Mr. Flux]

He smiled to the rather odd outburst from his younger brother; but he responded calmly enough, his smile fading away into his child like face.

"No, sadly I have not been accepted, I haven't had the chance to even go. Being as I just got here. But thank you for asking, Mr. Dust."

After he finished, he cleared his throat. He nodded in return to Quick, an old friend. He appreciated his candor in not interrupting. As he turned, however, he saw the towering form of Mr. Thrash. The large man dwarfed Flux easily; but it didn't bother him whatsoever.

"No, we understand Mr. Thrash. It is good to see you again, my friend. Besides, there was no real set time."

[Mr Dust]

Mr. Dust turns to see several of his former compatriots from his home world. He is more than a bit suprised to see them, but regards them calmly.

Ah... well, hello gentlemen. I assume you must have all come as a group? What brings you here? Why did you not remain to train on the homeworld?

[Mr. Quick]

"When the plague of the lupines spreads, we Guardians must spread to cure it," replies Mr. Quick smoothly. "We have come to do just that."

[Mr.Wall]

Another lanky gentleman steps into the entrance of the bar and grill and smiles to the doorman as the security held his hand out. From within the folds of his long worn leather trench, he brandishes a small, chrome cylinder and hands it to the serious faced man.

"Now, you will take good care of this for me won't you? I would appreciate that so."

The security man nodded and before he could ask, the man calmly points to a table in the back where Mr.Wall could see a group of his brethren gathering.

"Thank you so kindly."

With a tip of his fedora and a warm smile he went to see the others. Stopping at the table, he politely takes his hat off and nods to all there.

"Ahhhhh my brothers, it has been too long since we've had a gathering such as this. How fares you all?"

[Mr Dust]

Mr. Dust nods sagely at Mr. Quick's words, but still questions...

But surely you would have remained home to fight them there, would you not? I was sent here solely because my abilities with the Force exhibited a... non-standard manifestation. Is the same true of you?

He turns to regard the other Guardians, including the recently arrived Mr. Wall.

And of you fine gentlemen? The same?

[Mr Pulse]

-The quiet, gaunt looking gentleman (finally) enters through the doors.
With no qualms, he reaches beneath his long coat and produces a simple yet elegant rapier sheathed in an extraviganly decorated scabard.

The guards at the security desk are a little surprised to find that, upon inspection, the sword is indeed just a sword; not a lightsaber, not a vibroblade, just a finely balanced blade of cold steel.-

"I trust, my good gentlemen, that you'll pay the appropriate respect to this fine blade."

-With slow deliberate steps, the guardian finds his way through to his compatriates.

Between sentences, as politley as possible, Mr Pulse slides in a greeting.-

"...Gentlemen..."

-His dry, raspy words accompanied with a slight nod and a breif brush of the hand across the wide brim of his hat.

He sliped into the seat and neatly placed his hat on his lap, an unabtrusive maneuvore to avoid a cluttering of hats on the tables surface.-

[Mr. Quick]

Quick shoots a glance at Pulse, focused more so on the matter Dust has presented.

"One could say such a thing, Mr. Dust..." he says vaguely. "It would depend upon what was meant by non-standard manifestation."

[Mr Dust]

You know as well as I that the Guardians are not accustomed to dealing with... shall we say, specialists? The reason I was sent here to train is my rather unique phasing ability, and lack of the more common abilities. Is the same true in your case?

[Mr. Quick]

Quick wrings his hands. Clearly he is not at all pleased with what he is about to admit.

"Yes, in my case this is true. I cannot tap even the most basic telekinetic force, but my speed in Force boost is unmatched amongst our brethren."

[Mr Dust]

The same is true with me. There is no reason for shame... every ability can be used for good. I myself manifest powers in a very... unusual way. For brief periods, I can become as a ghost, able to walk through nearly any object.

He turns to face the other Guardians.

And you gentlemen... are your abilities similarly specialized?

[Mr. Blind]

A similarly garbed fellow sat nearby, but out of notice, from the other group of comrades. About the time Mr. Dust finished his second sentence, Blind awoke with a short startle!

"My dearest apologies good sirs, but old age as crept upon my body and bestowed inconvenient naps!" He tipped his hat conventionally, smiling in the ever-friendly way that most elder's bestowed upon others.

[Mr Dust]

Mr. Dust tips his hat to his elder respectfully.

Hello, Mr. Blind. It is good to see you here. As I was asking the others, have your abilities developed along strange lines as well?

[Mr. Blind]

Mr. Blind nodded, replacing his hat upon his head.

"Yes, they most certainly have. I am gifted with sight beyond the common eyes of or brethren and all," He replied, smiling yet again, "But it is often terrible to travel, and with the uprise in such rude persons in this world!"

[Mr. Thrash]

Thrash sat quitely, silently tapping his fingers along with the rhythms of the music in Yog's. He listened as his bretheren discussed their plight and sympathized as they spoke of the unusual manifestation of their powers.

Both the rules of societal engagement coupled with Mr. Thrash's unusual withdrawn nature gave him pause before he replied to his fellows.

"I am gifted with the mastery of blades, every inclination of my body and the Force the flows through it allows me to wield a weapon at a much greater efficiency than others. Though sadly I have no physical manifestation of the Force as the rest of you."

[imported_Mr. Flux]

"Dearest brother; I am afraid you already know my ailment."

The young boy spoke; as old, if not older than Mr. Blind. He held out his hand- he used little concentration, electricity crackled at his palm to form a small ball of energy.

It spiraled in and out of itself, before he closed his hand over it, shutting it out.

He nodded to Mr. Blind.

[Mr.Wall]

Silent till now, after hearing the others speak of thier skills and weaknesses, Mr.Wall pipes in.

"Yes, I too deal with the same malady. My skills in shielding myself with the force from physical and mental attacks is exraodinary. Alas, I too am very limited in other basic abilities."

He said as he fidgited with his hat.