Aquila Furtiva (Loki)

[Zem Vymes]

Bad business. Black tidings. Ill omens.

Jedi ought not pay heed to such trivium. They were to master their passions, not have their passions take mastery of self. That was the aspiration, at least. The human heart - and as it were, the hearts of nearly all sentients - were full of darker leanings capable of making themselves known at the worst of times. The eternal vigil of the Jedi was to guard against this temptation.

The Jedi settlement on Ossus was in its infancy - a place watched over by the handful of sage masters who had survived an era with no shortage of darkness. These few shepherded the many - the eager Padawan Learners wide-eyed by faith but not seasoned with experience. Those who believed in the better nature of all, in spite of the evidence to the contrary that could beset them on all sides. The balance was fragile. The slightest aberration could shatter this hope of peace.

In the tent that had become Zem Vymes' training sanctum and residence, the old Jedi Master sat at a spartan table, casting aside a datapad he was given. An aged hand rested against his chin, and he had the look of a man burdened with faraway concerns. Bad business indeed.

"News from the excavation site, Master?"

Torral Urth, a Rodian padawan, stood at the threshold of the tent, his sucker-fingers of his hands twined together expectantly. He'd been asked to dispatch a message to Master Vymes, and obviously the news had an effect on the older human.

"Something like that, Padawan."

Zem still looked away, preoccupied.

"Send for Loki."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki was taking inventory of his training supplies when he was approached by the Rodian padawan. He ignored him at first, while he rifled through a footlocker of training sabers and remotes. It was as he suspected: two sabers had disappeared in the past week alone. His mood soured, he turned on Torral Urth with an impatient scowl.

"What is it, padawan? I haven't got all day."

"Master Vymes requests your presence... sir."

First, the footlocker was sealed, and later, a strongly worded note would be attached to it. He took off at a brisk pace, dusting off his trousers and brushing out creases from his tunic on the way. Zem Vymes was not a man given to frivolity, he spoke little, and did not suffer fools. He was a Jedi's Jedi, and he would not have summoned Loki from his duties on a whim. The familiar tent came into view in short measure. Once inside, Loki stopped a respectful distance from his superior, and bowed.

"Master Vymes."

[Zem Vymes]

"Mm."

Zem briefly glanced up, his eyes already confirming what his senses told of his guest. Setting aside another datapad, he made a slight gesture, causing the twine holding the tent flap behind Loki to loose itself. The flap fell into place, obfuscating the occupants of the tent from outside view and allowing for what passed as a modicum of privacy in the Jedi camp. For the moment, he attended to reading one final passage. Loki's impatience was only bested by his sense of duty. He'd wait for a stone to become sand, if ordered.

"Tell me, what do you know of the ongoing archaeological and historical projects going on around the library?"

He at last spoke, but continued to read his dossier.

[Abarai Loki]

"Progress is steady, sir. Alliance engineers have stabilsed the first level, and a team of archeologists and Jedi researchers have moved in. On the second level, the structural integrity of the east wing is suspect, but a collection of data cards and reader tapes have been salvaged from the rubble. And most recently, a squad from the Exploration Corps uncovered what is believed to be an exposed section of the Chamber of Antiquities. That information is, of course, classified."

Thus ended Loki's summary, regurgitated with all the formality and efficiency of a protocol droid. He remained silent thereafter, his eyes forward, aching to know what was so fascinating about Master Vymes's reading material. Behind him the heavy flap stirred, permitting a cool breeze to enter and circulate the tent. It seemed unnatural that a few lengths of canvas could invoke such an atmosphere of tranquility, an oasis amidst the clamour. He wanted one.

[Zem Vymes]

"So you have been doing more these days than swinging a blade."

Zem paused in his reading, letting the datapad clatter to the desk as he finally looked up at the Order's youngest knight.

"Good."

He raised a hand, beckoning Loki to approach his desk, and leaned forward slightly to slide the datapad across for the Knight to read.

"Last evening, one of the Alliance archaeology teams had secured a lockbox from one of the adjacent chambers to the main Antiquities vault. Great Sith War era notations on the box. We believe it to contain a holocron."

[Abarai Loki]

The datapad was ignored. Master Vymes held his attention for what he'd said was far more relevant than any trivia extracted from a datapad. He waited for him to finish, then promptly got to the heart of the matter:

"Had secured, sir?"

[Zem Vymes]

"They camped at the library entrance to secure the cargo overnight for transport here. One of our padawans was to assist them with the delivery at dawn today. They found the case missing, and Jora Klenn - the assistant archaeologist - with her throat cut."

[Abarai Loki]

He was braced for the news, like a man teetering on the edge of a precipice, waiting to take the plunge. However, when the dark truth was at last divulged it pierced him like an ice shard. Gasping and gaping were for undisciplined fools. Instead, Loki closed his eyes and took a long breath. It was hard not to think of the other mysterious deaths that once haunted the Jedi ranks, and the harrowing betrayal that followed in their wake. And now, a theft and a murder on the steps of the Great Jedi Library itself. It was easy to dwell on the implications of such crimes, and stew in a fog of distrust. Loki, however, looked to logic and reason when tasked with making sense of the senseless.

"Someone has been watching us. Patiently. Lingering overnight was a needless risk," he added, failing to disguise his disappointment, "Do we have any leads?"

[Zem Vymes]

Reaching into a drawer, Zem pulled out a mask (http://starwars.wikia.com/wiki/Ysanna) and slid it across the desk for Loki to examine.

"We also found this at the site."

The Jedi Master steepled his fingers together as he watched the younger Knight examine the crime scene evidence.

"I don't need to remind you how precarious our position here is, Loki. Trust is fragile, and so are spirits. While we're at the crossroads to finally restoring the Order to its rightful place, it can all be undone by a whisper. An act like this, if allowed to stand, can cause rumors and fear to infect the ears of our padawans before they have the wherewithal to steel their minds against that sort of thing. I've kept this as quiet as I can."

At last, Zem placed his hands on the table, sitting up slightly in his seat.

"Tell me, how would you go about the act of retrieving the stolen holocron from the Ysanna?"

[Abarai Loki]

"This attack was carried out in the night, with stealth, and silence. It is reasonable to believe then that the thieves approached on foot. A speeder, or even a tamed beast for that matter, would ruin the element of surprise. There is clay soil around the library, smooth and yielding underfoot. I would first look for tracks, and follow them."

In his hands, the mask was surprisingly light; cobbled together from sheets of pliable bronze metal into an abstract alien visage, it had been recently polished, and was speckled with bloody fingerprints. He turned it over and sniffed the interior: a residual whiff of a sharp pungent odour clung to the metal. The mask was replaced on the table with a look of distaste. It occured to him, upon returning his attention to Master Vymes, that his superior had not yet spoken. Perhaps he was dissatisfied with his answer. Loki recalled his response and felt suddenly quite foolish.

"Forgive me, sir, if you find my ways simple. I am no investigator, but I know how to track things in the wilderness."

[Zem Vymes]

Vymes considered Loki's answer with an inscrutable expression, and for the moments after the Knight spoke, he seemed balanced on a knife over whether to find favor with the notion. At last, a thin smile broke the cover, and Zem offered a curt nod.

"We're in agreement, then.

Take one or two Jedi with you. Someone with knowledge of the temple, or someone with a knowledge of the land."

He held up a hand to give Loki pause before speaking, and Zem's voice was firm.

"Be invisible, and be quick about it."

The upturned hand flicked a wrist, and the tent flap once again flew open.

"Go on then."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki gave a neat bow and parted in silence. Master Vymes had not been vague about the urgency surrounding the mission, and every second wasted put the holocron further from his reach. First, he had to prepare for his departure, and secondly, he was to recruit an able partner to share in the journey, wherever it would lead them. And he knew just the man for the job.

It was early, and the day was starting in earnest with groups of padawans congregating for lessons about the Whaladon. On his way to the transport, Loki noticed a little astromech rolling leisurely about the droid yard, and stopped it long enough to record a message for Wei Wu Wei. In his absence, Loki trusted him to oversee his lessons, Wei being an accomplished and passionate swordsman himself. It was an arrangement that proved mutually beneficial whenever his fellow Jedi fancied another sabbatical in the library. The droid beeped what Loki could only assume was a note of affirmation, and trundled off with a cheerful whistle.

After a quick stop at his personal quarters to collect his rucksack, a bedroll, a canteen, and a spare pair of socks, he departed for the supply depot. Nestled at the foot of the hill was the first freighter of the day, disgorging crates onto the landing pad. Beside it, a wide pavillion manned by soldiers. Here, Loki was a familiar face, notorious for his frequent visits, and confrontations, with the resident supply officer, Lieutenant Ingram Bullwood. Upon sighting his Jedi nemesis, the lieutenant sucked up his saggy midsection into a proud and plump chest, and his bushy whiskers whiffled with combat readiness.

"Now, look here, Barry, if you think you're going to strongarm me out of another crate of training remotes with your Jedi skullduggery, I've got news for you. I-"

"Abarai Loki," he corrected him, for the umpteenth time, "Lieutenant Bullwood, I am in need of two ration packs and a medikit."

"Two ration packs, eh? Just two..." Bullwood stroked his second chin, and his good eye shrank in suspicion, "What new kind of devilry is this? Trying to throw me off guard, eh? I know your game, Barry! Today, two ration packs, tomorrow, two crates! Well, not on my watch, let me tell-"

"That is all, lieutenant. Carry on," Loki said, as he left, having helped himself to the supplies.

By the time the sound of the lieutenant's blustering was out of earshot, Loki was already halfway up the hill. From the top, he could appreciate the entire camp in all of its eccentric slapdash glory, and it made quite an impression. Things were finally starting to come together, and yet, the recent grim turn of events threatened to unravel everything. Speed was the key, he reminded himself. Speed and secrecy. Onwards he marched, until he spotted an old familiar tree on the far side of a stream, and there, beneath it, tending a rich and varied plot of fruits and vegetables, he saw an old familiar face.

"Anbira Hicchoru," he called, as he approached, "I have a mission for you."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"Have you, then?"

Rising from a kneeling position, Anbira's eyes squinted against the sun in the direction of a familiar voice. He twirled a space in his hands a few times before throwing it to the ground, where the business end sank into the loam. Wringing his filthy hands free of as much loose soil as he could, he looked at his fellow Jedi Knight and the pack he carried with him.

"I won't tease the nature of the task from your grim disposition, but by the size of your pack I imagine it's not help with saber velocities you're after."

[Abarai Loki]

"An item of great value to the Jedi has been stolen and I have been tasked with its retrieval."

Loki spared the sordid details, as far as the mission was concerned a cut throat was irrelevant. Presently, there was little Anbira needed to know. There was, however, much he needed to do. The rucksack was shrugged to the floor with a thud. He inspected the half-naked farmer from head-to-foot with a frown as hard as durasteel: he wore a pair of rotten shredded trousers, and that was all, not counting the dusting of filth that clung to him like a second skin. In places, the excess of hair was such that it could put a wookiee to shame. And there was no sign of his Jedi weapon in sight.

"It was my intention to request you join me in this mission, but..." he raised his hands in exasperation, "Look at the fraking state of you."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

It didn't take much empathy to suss out Loki's meaning.

"A Jedi's ways aren't all matters of soldiery, friend. Dirt does wash from the hands easier than blood."

Still, Loki hadn't come to debate the finer points, and Anbira was certainly willing to help when a task was needed.

"No small amount of thievery to call for the tenacious Abarai Loki to set it right."

Anbira frowned at the implications.

"Bad business, this."

[Abarai Loki]

"Indeed."

That Anbira had divined the severity of the matter without needing it spelled out was a relief. Not that it helped resolve his current state of undress. Perhaps buried somewhere amongst the shrubbery were his belongings. Little good they would do him there. He stiffened in his place.

"The success of the mission requires haste. If you could ready yourself instead of standing there like some fossilised mountain man, Anbira Hicchoru, I will brief you on the way."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"Forgive my dawdling tongue, then."

With a nod, Anbira hastened to the trunk he kept situated at the base of his tree, and unclasped the hinges, taking out a set of lovingly-preserved armor - complete with body glove and composited with customized tunic to project his status as a Jedi Knight - and his lightsaber.

Standing with his bundle, he looked a bit expectantly at Loki. After all, he wasn't used to many visitors in this place.

"A moment's privacy to change?"

[Abarai Loki]

Obliging the request, Loki turned on the spot, and set his eyes on the ridge of tall trees in the distance. And, although his gaze was on the horizon, his thoughts dwelled on Anbira's fascinating set of composite armour. It had been a while since he'd last seen it: immaculate, as always. As someone who agonised over the quality and presentation of his own effects, he could respect that. Behind him, the clunk and clatter of amour, as it was equipped, tantalised him with more unanswered questions. Some of which he could no longer silence, and his irrepressible curiosity got the better of his otherwise disciplined tongue.

"Your armour: is it not cumbersome?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"In another life, I was a recon scout."

A fair bit of fidgeting could be heard from the other side of the tree.

"The armor is light, and allows free movement well enough. We depended on that fact more than anything."

Rustling in the tree suddenly sounded from above.

"If you worry that I may slow you down..."

More rustling, and Anbira dropped to the ground on the other side of the tree in front of Loki in a squat.

"...I will put your mind at ease."

Bounding to his feet, the Jedi hermit clipped his lightsaber to his belt, his last act of readying himself.

[Abarai Loki]

Anbira's boorish appearance prompted from Loki an almost imperceptible start. Rankled that his cool exterior had been chipped, Loki waited for the dust to settle, and considered his chosen partner, and his boyish enthusiasm. He could not complain: in a matter of moments, Anbira was suddenly presentable and prepared, and his armour was nothing short of impressive. Instead of a reprimand, all Loki could muster was a twinge of envy, and a nod.

"Good. Let's go."

Shouldering his pack once again, Loki lead the way back up the hill, towards its verdant crown of kingwoods. There, amongst the trees, he walked a familiar path flanked with vibrant beds of pirada aquilla flowers. True to his word, Anbira's pace was unfaltering, and, given his expeditious efforts, it was only fair he knew the reason for their sudden adventure. So, Loki divulged the details of his meeting with Master Vymes: the lockbox, the murder, and the mask.

"What these savages expect to do with a holocron is beyond me," he concluded, "But they will pay for their crimes."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"It would seem that a conflict is inevitable."

The way became thick with overgrowth, and Anbira casually waved a hand across, drawing back an errant invasion of branches and brambles alike with the force, allowing both Jedi to advance unopposed.

"These wild men, the Y'sanna, I'm to understand they are the survivors of a terrible cataclysm here, from back in the days of Qel Droma?"

Anbira leapt across a dead tree that had tumbled across the way, and paused a moment for Loki to do the same.

"Powerful forces at work then. Are we certain this is some simple robbery?"

[Abarai Loki]

The fallen tree was cleared in a neat bound and on the other side, Loki paused a second to consider Anbira's question. He glanced up at him, squinting through flecks of golden sunlight.

"Nothing is certain. Our objective, however, remains simple: find the holocron."

He trudged on, burdened more by the weight of his thoughts than the load on his back. Anbira had surprised him with his depth of perception, his probing words hinting at the kind of suspicion that left Loki troubled. Since he first saw the ornate mask in Master Vymes's tent, one bleak and secret observation lodged itself like a splinter in his mind: anyone could have planted that evidence. Zem Vymes knew it, too. It was the doubt neither of them dared to give voice. Anbira's insight shed a new light upon the mystery, invoking the ghosts of ancient Jedi, and the dark history of Ossus itself.

"I know not the origins of the Y'sanna. In any case, it is irrelevant. If they did indeed draw blood against the Jedi, there will be a reaping."

As they breached the line of trees and descended into the valley, a thought occured to him, given life by his companion's curious wisdom. While he navigated a route through the loose rocks underfoot, he kept his eyes forward, and his tone as casual as he was capable.

"Have you been receiving visits from your old... friends, again?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira shook his head.

"Nothing recent. It would seem the Old Masters only come when they will to do so. The last I have seen of them was the experience we shared."

The Hermit Jedi paused at an escarpment, taking a small leap down to better footing before continuing onwards. Loki's question brought old concerns fresh once more about his destiny, and the time he knew was limited. Dispelling these thoughts from his mind, he got to the root of the younger Jedi's query.

"It was stories, nothing more. Master Yoda told of the end of days on Ossus and the destruction brought by the Sith. He spoke of those left behind with a sense of pity."

[Abarai Loki]

"Pity," Loki scoffed, "That is a luxury we cannot afford our enemies."

Ahead, the Great Jedi Library rose up like a mountain, crowned with crumbling spires and fractured domes. There were tents and newly-erected security checkpoints dwarfed into insignificance about its feet, and the usual trickle of personnel in and around its proud looming arches. Upon their arrival at the first security post, Loki noticed the narrowed stares targetting Anbira, in his battle armour. In their approach to the library, they had been discreet, avoiding the camp proper and all of its residents, but to draw attention to themselves at the final hurdle like that was the mistake of an amateur. Both Jedi were granted clearance, of course, there were too few of them to be mistaken, but he did see one of the guards start to mutter into his comm while he stared. His concerns evaporated, however, when at last stepped into the long shadow of the ancient building.

"The Great Jedi Library," he said, gravely, "To kill in such a place..."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira paused in his tracks a bit, momentarily unaware of Loki's continued advance. He stood in front of the temple, staring at its awe-inspiring visage. One didn't need to reach far through the force to feel the convergence of energy. Even in it's ancient state, the library demanded the deepest respect. Anbira exhaled deeply, not realizing his breath was held. He hurried on after Loki, noting that the gossamer strings of the force that wove this place like a tapestry showed plain the breach of sanctity that had taken place.

Catching up with the younger Jedi, they approached the high vaulted framing of the main entrance. Enormous stylized columns could be seen of the Old Masters, some crumbling here, and some with ivy climbing the countours there. Beyond them was darkness punctuated by the occasional field lights that the dig parties had set up to dispel.

[Abarai Loki]

Inside, the air was stagnant and unsavoury; a breath held for thousands of years. The lights stood at regular intervals, they were linked with snaking rivers of cabling which threatened to topple the Jedi in the darkest recesses. Cracked tiles clattered underfoot. On the walls were columns of elaborate markings etched into the stone, wholly indecipherable to a layman like Loki, but perhaps Anbira, in his unique wisdom, would surprise. They were almost out of the entrance hall, when Loki came to a sudden stop.

"Here. This was where it happened."

He crouched to inspect the floor. Sure enough the tiles were spotless, and, compared to their dusty neighbours, practically shimmered like glass. In the cracks, water glistened from a recent jet wash. Any sign of blood spillage was gone from the sacred place. Slowly, his eyes surveyed their gloomy surroundings and finally arrived on Anbira.

"What do you think?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira shook his head. His eyes would tell him nothing in this place, so eager were the crews to clean up the remnants of the crime.

"I can see nothing here useful to us."

Where eyes can deceive, a Jedi have other means. Slowly, the hermit's eyes fluttered closed.

"I feel death here. Surprise. A sudden end. There are..."

Anbira's eyes lifted again, frustration on his face.

"I can feel the residual intent. There is that, but also fear."

[Abarai Loki]

"Fear? I suspect you are not referring to the unfortunate archeologist who had her throat opened."

It was the note of surprise in Anbira's voice that gave pause for thought. There was nothing strange about a person being afraid in their last moments of life, but for the murderer to be afraid was something worth noting, and it presented them with more tantalising questions. Stirring from his thoughts, Loki stood and cast his companion an inquisitive glance.

"You are a perceptive one, Anbira Hicchoru. Where do your Jedi senses tell you the assailant fled?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Deep within focus, Anbira nonetheless shook his head.

"I can sense no intent of direction. Only the fear."

Sighing, he looked back up at Loki, his face bathed in the faint glow of the worklamps nearby.

"It's as if...they're afraid of the library. The only thought I have is that they needed to leave. To get out of this place, as soon as they could."

Rising from his crouch, the hermit Jedi retraced his steps, heading for the Library's exit. At the threshold once more, he paused, placing a hand at Loki's chest to bid him to move not one more step.

"Wait. Look."

There in the damp soil there were many footprints. Most were those of boots or shoes. But a few of the tracks were barefoot.

[Abarai Loki]

"Now we have their scent."

The Jedi exchanged a knowing glance, and proceded. The barefoot tracks wrapped around the side of the library, hugging close to the eastern wall. It was difficult to tell, as there were footprints within footprints and the soil had, in some places, been pressed flat, but there appeared to have been between three and five intruders in the night. That they removed their shoes betrayed a certain penchant for stealth; booted footfalls resounded in the library's cavernous spaces like tumbling boulders. It was a narrow trail, suggesting the intruders moved in single file, and halfway along the wall, it diverted for the forest like stitching up the hillside. Loki stopped to inspect the towering ancient walls.

"I expect the attack took place not long before dawn, when the shadow of the library is longest and there is scarce moonlight on the hill. And if you look here, there is another kind of impression, of some sort of beast. Perhaps they were mounted in their escape."

On his knee, Loki inspected his new discovery: large pawprints. They dwarfed his hand and disappeared up the hillside with the other tracks. But there was something different about them, they were fresh, and the spacing did not resemble the tracks of any native creature. He bolted upright.

"Something is amiss here. Let's go!" he said, and took off at speed towards the forest.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

The Jedi hermit sensed the change too, taking off at pace behind Loki. Another ethereal trail of intent. Absent of fear, but with theft plainly in mind. And more importantly - it felt close.

Anbira's lightsaber was in his hand the moment he caught up with Loki in full stride.

[Abarai Loki]

When they reached the top of the hill, the tracks diverged, forking off in different directions deep into the forest. The deeper, fresher pawprints were a more attractive pursuit, and Anbira, presumably sensing something Loki could not, raced ahead, parting branches and shrubbery in his wake. The tracks wove a narrow path between thickets and over flattened underbrush, leading them into a knotted gloomy heart of greenery. Here, the soil was thick with fallen leaves, outcropping roots and coils of prickly vines, amongst which the pawprints vanished. The Jedi paused for a fleeting instant, and in that brief flicker of silence, there was a sharp snap which resounded in the canopies above. There eyes sought out the source of the disturbance, and there, moving amongst the trees there was a figure.

Loki took flight immediately, springing from tree trunk to tree trunk, and in his approach, the figure started to take shape, a shadow against the filtered daylight. Each leap saw him climb in height until at last he plummeted from the tree canopies and landed in front of his quarry with a lightsaber's snap-hiss.

"You!?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The figure in question had been watching the Jedi camp for months, living beyond its edge but seldom ever being spotted. It was an unwelcome presence to them, an outsider who held different values. But he had kept a close eye, monitoring the construction of the camp, and spying upon the excavations of the ancient Jedi Library. And he was a thief.

In his satchel lay several books, an antiquated datapad he hoped to salvage, as well as a few other trinkets he had not had time to study while he liberated them from dust-caked display cases. His steps had scarcely left a mark on the dusty floors, and his eyesight in the dark had kept him from being detected as he only required minimal light.

And, as Loki dropped down from the foliage above, he had just finished zipping up his fly after taking a leak upon an unfortunate ficus.

"Uh, yeah, me," Halajiin Rabeak replied. "Were you expecting someone else?" The yellow-furred Nehantite looked his one-time friend over warily, noticing that Loki's lightsaber did not dip or deactivate. Rolling his pink eyes, Hal shifted his weight to the right and sighed. "Ugh, don't tell me the Council wants me back again."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Catching up with Loki, Anbira turned to face Hal as well. Breathing full from the sprinted pursuit, he stood to face the Nehantite with his saber drawn, but unlike the younger human, had not yet activated it. Hal was a friendly-enough face. He did not understand where his feelings and his eyes disagreed.

"We're in pursuit of a thief."

Irritation on Anbira's face, he wanted to keep looking up the path, but his instincts were keeping him here, fixated on Hal. There was no coincidence in his presence.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Two of them. The Nehantite's base nature spoke in his head.

Hooray, you can count! I'm so proud of you! His higher functions snarked back.

Oh shut up, you know what I meant.

Suppose I should be wondering why Loki brought Farmer Bill, then, huh?

And why Loki's saber is still active. We don't even have ours with us, thank you so very much.

Well it's not like we've needed it in a while, and you've been complaining about your belt not fitting right. I'm just glad you're even wearing pants, to be honest.

What? This is the jungle, there's no one here, it's like going back to our roots. You're the one who studied, you know we used to go about in just our fur.

Mmm, those would have been the days. Wouldn't even need some of your magazines, with sights like that.

They're still looking at me.

Then respond.

What do I say, though?

I dunno, whatever?

Oh, come on, you're the smart one!

*Sigh* Fiiine, I'll think of something. Let's see, they're two of them, with sabers, both of them are reasonably important, neither are very attractive -

Loki might be in a couple years, never know.

Please, please don't think about that. I mean, just... *shudder*

If you don't come up with something smart really quick, I'm going to say something. Like, out loud.

No! No no no, I got this!

"Thief, huh?" Hal replied, this time out loud.

Brilliant! Now they'll never suspect us!

Told you I'd think of something smart.

I'm so glad you do our thinking.

[Abarai Loki]

His gaze tracked down to the floor, where he saw a pair of large bare footpaws, and suddenly, everything made sense. It was difficult not to be disappointed, a feeling Loki often attributed to the sudden and unexpected appearance of the estranged mongoose Jedi. He was almost certainly not the person they were hunting, his tracks were too recent for that, and yet, something stayed his hand: all it took was a fraction of doubt.

"You have been to the library," he said, eyes narrow with suspicion, "Why?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's brow crimped, tail beginning to brush out as his posture straightened. Sure, he and Loki didn't see eye to eye that much -

Because he's short, lol!

Would you cut that out? This is serious exposition!

Sorry...

- since Hal had deceived him on the Ilum mission, but Loki had never threatened him in the past. Yet, there was his lightsaber, still humming and casting an eerie glow over the boy's pale face and perfect hair. Pulling his satchel around from his back, the Nehantite reached into it slowly, and even more slowly withdrew an old book, mouldering around its edges. "It's a library," he replied evenly. "I was borrowing books."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

It sounded like truth, but Anbira felt something within the Nehantite that seemed to indicate an incomplete truth. It wasn't enough in itself to mean anything. The Jedi hermit looked at the book he produced. Not an expert on the antiquities, Anbira nonetheless had to admit that it certainly looked like it carried enough age. At any rate, he could discern none of the residual feelings he'd gathered from the site of the murder.

Nevertheless, traipsing out of the Great Library in its delicate state with a satchel of its books was highly unusual.

"Has the survey commission cleared this? I was under the impression the cataloging process was still ongoing?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The smirk that played up Hal's muzzle was enough answer for anyone, but then he opened his mouth. "Survey commission? I don't need to clear nothin' with nobody. You all don't want me to be part of your little group anymore, remember? I'm independent field study, now," he said.

And he meant it. While Hal didn't consider himself part of the greater Jedi Order any longer, he knew he was still a Jedi himself, and that was the great Jedi Library, so by his own reasoning, he had every right to take things out of it and study them. Even if he didn't intend on returning absolutely everything he'd found. After all, there was more than just books in his satchel, and a great deal more back at his perma-tent.

Dropping the book back into his satchel, Hal crossed his arms, still looking very unimpressed by Loki's lit saber. "Now, if you all gave a shit about me and what I'm doing, you'd have been out here ages ago, so I know that's not it," he snarked. "So what's really going on?"

[Abarai Loki]

"It is as Anbira said: we are in pursuit of a thief."

As someone who had suffered, many a time and oft, of the Nehantite's whining, Loki weathered his latest fit of self-pity with practised patience. An exchanged glance with his partner told him everything he needed to know, and the blade of his weapon was snuffed out. Impressive though Anbira's instincts were, he'd never fully let his guard down, not until the culprit was found; whether or not that culprit was a mongoose Jedi with a chip on his shoulder remained to be seen. His thievery would be dealt with later, for the time being, Loki's attention remained fixed on the task at hand.

"And a murderer. Have you seen anything suspicious on any of your recent... scavenger hunts?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Loki's mention of the darker deed made Anbira redouble his search. Murder was a form of theft. You stole from someone their life. You stole from them everything they could ever do, and everything they could ever become. But considering the acts equal was to underestimate everything that existed in the mind of a person that was designed to prevent the most ultimate of evils from transpiring.

Hal was nervous, indignant, and evasive. But Anbira could find nothing through the force to convince him that he was a murderer.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The Nehantite's pink eyes turned to Anbira, and in a flat voice he said, "You can stop feeling around in there. It's not exactly comfortable for us, you know."

Garfife, it's like he's just shoved all the furniture around the room, what with all that probing!

You have furniture up there?

Yes, and it's lovely. And now I have to put it all back in place.

Lucky, I don't have furniture.

You have a bed.

Yeah, but that's more like... utility. For sleeping, and...

Ugh, yes, I know, I know...

Returning his gaze to Loki, Hal then bit his lip, thinking. Behind him, his tail swept in a fashion of more than just idle boredom, instead acting as if its own movements could help him think. "Well, I know I'm not the only one who's been rooting around in the really old areas. You know, the parts the survey crew haven't gotten to, yet. There've been footprint, and some other evidence I've found, but nothing' really been out of place. I thought I actually saw someone, once," he said. "But even with this eye, I couldn't be sure in the dark." His finger pointed up at his left eye, the one which still only saw in black and white. After one hundred and seven years in carbonite, he was lucky the only damage sustained was a loss of color vision in one eye, but that damage had made him able to see infrared light, effectively giving him monochrome night vision.

With a jerk, his tail stopped moving, and his ears lowered, tense. "Wait, murder? Who got murdered? Where was this? When?"

[Abarai Loki]

"An archaeologist was killed in the library last night. The killer left behind a strange mask. We have reason to believe it was one of the local Ysanna."

It had taken him only a moment to consider the pros and cons of divulging their mission details to Halajiin Rabaek; while theirs was a delicate mission of secrecy, the Nehantite avoided interaction with the people from the site, Jedi or otherwise, and there was a chance he could offer up some important information. He considered him, and the sudden telling change in body language, a language in which Loki had become quiet fluent over the course of his myriad dealings with long-tailed big-eared aliens; it was enough to tell him that the news had either shocked Halajiin, or prompted him to fake it.

"In your... solitude, have you had any traffic with these primitives?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal nodded, but chose his words carefully. "Yeah, I've seen several, and have... entertained... two or three of them back at my place. Got a good idea where their main camp is, too."

His ears went back up, tail flicking again. "But why would they kill an archaeologist? Even they call the Library the Jedi Library, they know it's ours. Besides, a lot of them can't even read, from what I could learn. What could they steal that they could actually use?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"One doesn't need to read to understand a Jedi Holocron. They only need to know how to listen."

Another piece of the puzzle divulged to the Nehantite. Anbira clipped his saber at his belt once more, crossing his arms over his chest as he thought about Hal's words. He was correct in the appraisal the Y'sanna had of the Great Library. They knew it to be a place of Jedi knowledge.

"I sensed a great deal of fear at the flashpoint of the murder. Not from the victim, but from the attackers. But why?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"They have a holocron?" Hal blurted. "A holocron?!"

This is bad.

Very bad.

Worse than Raiders of Xoltsana IV: The Return of the Raiders.

Er, maybe not that bad.

Well, it's close.

Looking up at the trees as if to find answers there, Hal began to pace. "This doesn't make sense at all. First off, the Y'sanna won't go near that place. Second, they're scared as hell of what's inside, and don't want it infecting their culture. If the killer was scared, he was probably afraid of being found out by another Y'sanna, not found by us."

A moment of clarity flashed in Hal's brain, and he spun back to face Anbira. "But they're going to be found out by other Y'sanna, though," he stated. "The only reason I can think of that any of them would steal anything from the Library would be to sell it to an off-worlder. And if that off-worlder wants a holocron, this is way, way worse than just a single murder."

[Abarai Loki]

"This is pure speculation and is good for nothing without evidence and facts."

While his compatriots indulged in some fanciful theory-crunching, Loki's patience withered. There was nothing of value that could be divined from standing around in a forest, and the more he heard, the more he was convinced that the next logical step was to confront the Ysanna directly. It seemed Halajiin knew where to find them, but that didn't stop Loki from keeping a close watch on their immediate surroundings; the natives had the advantage of being familiar with the land, and were rooted in his mind as an invisible menace lurking behind every bush, and in every tree canopy. He glanced at his chrono.

"We must keep moving. Halajiin Rabeak, will you take point and lead the way to the nearest camp?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Loki's suggestion was prudent, and Anbira waited for the Nehantite to lead the way.

"You said you have had dealings with the Y'sanna before?"

The notion had the Jedi hermit curious. He'd felt their presence near his hermitage before. They'd gotten close without being seen, and they'd taken great care to remain out of sight. Though there was no aggressive move made, and no ill intent to be derived, the very notion of having the natives watching their every move gave some pause.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal slung his satchel back around to his back and nodded for the pair of Jedi to follow him. If he was going into Ysanna territory, he sure wouldn't be doing it unarmed.

"Yeah, I've met several," he answered as he walked, his pace brisk. "First group I think were deciding if I was tasty until they found my lightsaber. Second batch were more pleasant. Traded a few things with them, found out what local fruit is good to eat. I've had two or three of them back to my place; some of the females can be real screamers in bed, let me tell you!"

Before long the trio approached Hal's self-exile dwelling. A perma-tent taken from the main camp, it was roughly twelve feet by twelve feet square, its walls having become rigid once their epoxy set, and the door could securely lock. It took but a moment for Hal to open it and head inside. Once there, the typical sanitary floor could be seen, a clear resin leveled over the undergrowth below. In one corner sat a proper bed, while two desks, a bookshelf and a dresser comprised the rest of his furniture, the bookshelf nearly overloaded with volumes taken from the Library for study, while the desks lay strewn with scrolls and papers, ancient data storage devices, modern datapads, and all manner of other things. Unslinging his satchel and tossing it onto the bed, Hal stooped to open a small cooler at the foot of his bed, withdrawing a bottle of water for a quick drink before snatching up his lightsaber belt.

Made of leather, the belt did not have a clip to hang the Jedi blade from but instead a small, leather tube along its back that the handle could slide into. A pair of slug-firing pistol magazines fell into his pocket, and the Nehantite was ready to go.

"So, who wants to go accuse masters of stealth and long-range marksmanship of murder?" he asked with a grin.

[Abarai Loki]

A moment longer, Loki's gaze lingered on the orgy of evidence before him, his face hard like granite. It took a monumental effort not to speak of it, instead he consoled himself with the knowledge that such treachery would not go without consequence, and he left the sordid scene in silence.

Once outside, he paused to consider their position. They were in a clearing bathed in freshest daylight, its warmth had weight, like a hand upon the cheek, and waxy leaves shone like mirrors in the sun. In hostile territory, the campsite was brazen, but then, he considered, there was precious little about Halajiin Rabeak that was not. Glad to be on the move again, and away from the tent, and the spectre of mongoose coitus, he revisited something Halajiin said.

"These primitives, they are marksmen?"

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Anbira considered the prospect. While it wasn't the Jedi way, theirs was not the only sect that used the force.

"While a blaster or any other gun might be crude, it's hard to debate the practicality, living in a hostile place as this."

He paused as they exited the tent, heading on the path that Hal blazed.

"Be wary, however. A steady hand, with intent masked through the force, can prove deadly."

Anbira looked to the Nehantite, curious as to the next step.

"What can you tell us of the tribesmen we will be meeting?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"They're hunters, Loki," Hal replied, his pace not slowing. "And when you hunt for food, your aim has to be good. They're not just marksmen, they're practically snipers. And Captain Armor here is right, they do use the Force to fine-tune their shots. Easy, really."

A particularly large branch needed to be ducked under to pass, but instead of simply crouching, Hal dropped to all fours and scampered beneath it without slowing.

"As far as the tribesmen go, well, it really depends on who we're going to run into first. Hunters? They'll probably warn us off, but we'll have spooked the prey already so there's not much we can do about that. Explorers? We likely won't even see them. Guards?" He stopped there, biting his lip. "Well, those will be a problem. We'll just have to pray they aren't looking to start a war. But what we really want to come across are some kids. They think I'm some cuddly animal, and they tend to like me, so if we can find a kid, I can get them to take us to their camp. If not, I'll still try and work some magic. In any case, you both need to be respectful that we're on their land, and we are just visitors in these parts. As far as I can tell, nobody wants a fight with the Jedi, but they don't want us here, either."

[Abarai Loki]

"An innocent woman was murdered last night," Loki said, loath to state the obvious, "That does not sound like the behaviour of a battle-shy people to me. We can be respectful and cautious."

Ahead, there was the sound of flowing water, and through the dense picket of trees he spotted dazzling specks of light at play upon a flowing stream. They followed the stream down a gently sloping hill, then crossed it on outcropping rocks where the water burbled about their feet. In the shade of broad verdant fronds, the air was cool and aromatic and deathly still. Leading the way, Halajiin appeared typically confident; Anbira, less so, and it was an apprehension Loki shared.

"Halajiin Rabeak, whatever mixed bag of experiences you may have had with these primitives, it must be noted that this will be our first official encounter with them... as Jedi. That includes you. And while first impressions might be important, our mandate remains the same: the holocron is our priority."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Keeping his senses keen, Anbira chose each step he took, his eyes focusing not on each sharp detail in front of him, but taking in the vista. He looked for anything to break understood patterns. A change in color horizontally across vertical breaks in the trees. He listened to the water of the stream, and to the birds chirping above it. They were not disturbed by the presence of the Jedi, and Anbira had to assume they wouldn't betray the Ysanna, either.

"I can feel none of the intent along this path that was felt at the Library."

He kept his voice low, eyes still on the move. There was a tell-tale disturbance of moss against the rock. Displaced detritus some distance away, and a mound of soft soi bulging across the path to indicate a trodding foot strike. Again, bare feet. Anbira took another few steps before freezing in his tracks.

"Hold."

He'd seen it, and then hadn't. There in the path, catching the barest amount of sunlight and throwing it elsewhere. The Jedi hermit stooped to his haunches, crawling along the path slightly to see the silken-fine thread drawn across the trail in front of them.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal was ready with a snappy comeback, as usual, pulled from a hand of other snappy comebacks. This one was a high card, not the highest in the deck, but enough to show he wasn't just going to throw out some garbage onto the smack-talk table, but it was slid back into his hand as Anbira halted the three of them.

The Nehantite's eyes studied the world around them in his strange mix of muted colors until he closed his right eye for the enhanced monochrome of his left. Adapting to the light, he could then see the threat plain as day.

"The hell is that?" he asked, stooping down to sniff at it as a bloodhound would. "I've never seen the Ysanna use tripwire traps in their hunting before."

Letting the natural curiosity of his species get the better of him, he reached out a clawtip, ready to tug upon the thread to see just what it would do.

Don't, you idiot! It's a trap!

I'm not an idiot, I know it's a trap. I just want to know what kind of trap it is.

There is no way for me to explain to you how stupid what you just said was.

Stupid, or brilliant? His lower faculties smirked inside.

Stupid. I really, really meant stupid.

[Abarai Loki]

When Anbira brought them to a sudden stop, Loki reached for his lightsaber. He could feel the hair on the back of his neck standing on end. The silence had claws. Like Anbira, he stooped low to gauge the threat, whatever it was. Suddenly, he was back on Maridun, where he was at once predator and prey of the mastiff phalone. The memory conjured a shudder, which rattled through his bones as he considered the kind of fierce predators that prowled the forests of Ossus. But there were no mastiffs in sight, in fact, Loki could see no sign of a threat at all. He lowered as Halajiin advanced, gazing into the underbrush, and placed a hand on the ground for balance.

That's odd. Beneath the thick bed of fallen leaves, he felt something long and firm. His fingers closed around it and traced it to a stop, unable to go any further. Curious, he dug, scattering leaves to reveal a length of thick twisted rope that intersected with another piece of rope at right angles, and another, and another. When he looked up, he saw his mongoose companion, and then he saw what he was reaching for - a sliver of silvery thread. His stomach clenched like a fist and he called out:

"Hal, stop!"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The dull gleam of a blunt clawtip rested against the thread, causing the light to shimmer up its length from both sides, but Hal moved no further.

"I wasn't gonna spring it," the Nehantite said, rolling his eyes. "That'd just be stupid, wouldn't it?"

Pulling his paw back, Hal placed both paws on his knees and pushed himself up to a stand, then rocked forward on the balls of his footpaws as he performed a stretch which lifted the front of his shirt to expose a bit of pale belly fur, and his sagging trousers. A wide yawn full of gleaming, white teeth accompanied it, followed by a smacking of his lips as he eased back down. Turning to face the others, he shrugged. "So, at least it means we're probably close to them," he said noncommittally. "Probably just go around and watch out for more traps."

Stuffing his paws down into his pockets, Hal turned on his bare heel to step around the trap, but in that moment he forgot something terribly crucial, and related to the only Nehntite in the party: he had a tail.

You have a tail, idiot.

Well, he mostly forgot. The important part forgot, at the very least.

Before his brain could shout it again at his body, Hal's tail swished to the side to balance him as he pivoted, and swung directly into the taut thread.

*ping*

"Oh, fuck." Was all the Nehantite could say before the earth sprang up around them in a mesh of ropes covered with leaves, dust and dead, dry growth, as the trip were hauled into the air, and bodily into each other while the net closed around them bobbing a good twenty feet in the air.

Oh, right, I have a tail.

Fucking idiot...

When the net slowly stopped swinging, Hal sighed, half upside down in the mesh of strong rope, his face sandwiched between Loki's hip and Anbira's elbow. "Well, we know what the trap does, at least. Guess it's not a total loss."

[Anbira Hicchoru]

His senses had alerted him and he'd been on the move. Unfortunately it wasn't soon enough to clear the netting, and with the sound of a thunderclap, the tension in the trees above relieved itself by drawing the three Jedi up into a net.

"How embarrassing."

Tangled awkwardly with the other Jedi, Anbira squirmed a little to relieve the tension in his back. Hoisted aloft in the scrum, he couldn't quite reach his lightsaber to make work of things.

[Abarai Loki]

When the trap was triggered, Loki sprang, soaring skywards. He had warned Hal, and he refused to fall victim to his idiocy. How depressing it was to see the net close around him, and snatch him out of the air like a giant's hand. Something hard, like an elbow or knee, was planted deep into his belly. Unable to double up, he panted like a dog while the others made idle commentary. Once his breath was back, he started to fidget.

"I am not going to die like this."

After a first unsuccessful attempt to reach his lightsaber, he attempted to reposition himself, which only served to tighten the tangle of limbs. He was getting frustrated, and fought against the ropes, only to get a tail to the face for his efforts. His muffled protestations helped disguise the approach of several figures stalking through the underbrush below.