The Call of Nature

[Abarai Loki]

"You are a sentimental fool."

His tone of voice wasn't half as damning this time around. Hal's words were cutting, they popped his temper, and robbed his tantrum of all its hot air. And, as he deflated, he felt all the tension in his muscles evaporating, replaced by a newfound warmth for his soft-hearted friend. What Hal said came from deep within, and in transit, had sunk beneath his own skin. Loki huffed the last of his frustrations into the air. It wasn't that he agreed with Hal - the disappointment of their non-discovery was utterly crushing - but he couldn't remain angry, either.

"I am glad you feel that way," he said, at last, "I will... miss you, too."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Here," Hal said, tossing the toy rocketship to his friend. "If you need a treasure for now, take that and keep it. At least won't go home empty-handed that way."

A laugh was quick to return to his voice, and Hal's smile made an encore appearance. "Well, don't go missing me too soon, pal. We're still stuck with each other for another week on the way back. I'd say we ought to take the box, but... fuck me if I'm gonna carry something that heavy all the way home."

[Abarai Loki]

"How generous of you," Loki said, drily, turning the toy over in his hands. He reached out and pulled the ornate disc from its recess on top of the box; the moment it was in his hand, he tossed it over to Hal. "Now you have your own memento."

The little rocket ship was stuffed somewhere safe inside his backpack, despite his feelings towards it. If it was important to Hal, then it would be important to him. He then turned, and took the first step of their long journey home. The climb from the cavern revealed to Loki the wisdom in Hal's decision to leave behind his own pack: every other step resulted in it knocking into the low ceiling or catching on some unseen outcropping of rock, forcing him to backtrack. By the time they were free of the cave, the sun was disappearing behind the mountains, and the sky was a deep shade of pink.

They made camp for the night; Loki collected fire wood, while Hal shot something to eat. Once the fire was crackling and dinner was served, the misery of their fruitless misadventure had vanished with the sun.

"This is good," Loki said, between mouthfuls of succulent meat, "What is it?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Um, I'm not really sure," Hal replied. "It looked... kinda like a badger? Never seen one near my tent." His lack of knowledge about whatever it was didn't seem to have any effect on his hunger, nor his tastebuds, as he worked on his own fire-roasted strips of red meat. The gin was considered, yet wisely left in his bag for the night, each of them having a great deal to think about clearly.

"So, I get the feeling you're not going to check in with the Council before you go, huh?" he asked. There was no judgement in his voice, instead there was understanding as if he would do the same thing. "You won't get out from the main port unnoticed. And the Cizerack monitor their port pretty well, too, and will likely report you to the Jedi. Military precision and all. But, I know of another port you could get out from, no questions asked."

He looked up from his meal to study Loki's reaction. "I've got a bit of pull at the mining camp. Few ships come and go out of there every day. I can take you there, if you like, then tell the Council once I get back home. I'll probably get in a bit of trouble for knowingly bypassing them, but... what're friends for, right?"

[Abarai Loki]

"It is a kind offer," Loki said, impressed by the degree of thought Hal had put into securing his departure from Ossus, and it was certainly tempting, "But I will not shirk my responsibility to inform the Jedi Council of my decision to leave. I owe them that much."

How that conversation would unfold, he had no idea, but something told him the Council would be understanding. They were good people, after all. He gave a nod, confident in his own private reasoning. The last thing he wanted was to be remembered as the Jedi who injured a padawan and ran away, even if that's exactly what he was - the difference between addressing his superiors and running away without a word was as stark as day and night, in his mind. He tore off another chunk of mystery meat and chewed as his thoughts wandered.

"Do you think they will remember me?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"How could they possibly forget?" Hal said, almost choking on his mouthful at the incredulity of Loki's question. "You helped this Order stay together, you've trained students and you've impressed masters. Quite frankly, if you were older I'm pretty sure you'd be on the Council. You've been one of the most important people in what's been a dark time for the Jedi, helping them push toward the light. Hell, without you, I wouldn't have been able to pull off that Ilum job and we'd be lacking lightsabers still. Garfife knows I'm sure not going to forget you."

[Abarai Loki]

"I should hope not."

The look Loki fired at Hal was betrayed by its own underlying warmth. He couldn't help but think that the rich litany of accomplishments Hal laid at his feet was coloured by their friendship. After all, there was so much more than age alone that kept him from having a seat on the Jedi Council. There was a time when he would've considered it his duty to accept a place on the Council, if the opportunity ever arose, but now, the opposite was true: if Serena Laran or Zem Vymes asked him to join them, duty would demand he decline their offer. In so many ways, he was not ready. Perhaps, he never would be. His doubts remained silent, however, as it was not in his nature to fish for compliments and Hal had been effusive enough in his praise. To know that he had the confidence of his friend, that was enough.

"And what lies in store for reformed Jedi Knight, Halajiin Rabeak?" A small smile appeared, "Does the Jedi Council beckon?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's eyebrows raised high beneath that flop of headfur, and he gave a wistful sigh. "Believe it or not, that might happen," he replied. "At the very least, it sounds like I'm going to get promoted to Master, and I'm going to likely be doing a lot of the telekenesis training. Well, at least between Alliance jobs. I know we're not pseudo-para-miliatary like we used to be for the Republic, but... this Order needs cash, and me going on some of these missions helps bring it in. Been on three, now."

It was an awkward topic at best, and Hal knew his Alliance forays were highly frowned upon, yet he believed the work he was doing was for the greater good.

"Got another one lined up for about a week and a half from now. I'm not supposed to tell anyone about it, but, I want you to know. I'll be going into Imperial space, this time, but that's about all I know. Council doesn't know about this one, and with luck, they're not going to find out, got it?"

[Abarai Loki]

"Imperial space?" Loki repeated, somewhere between envy and concern. Of the two, it was envy he felt the most, as visions of stormtroopers and AT-AT's danced in his mind. What a thrill it would be to find oneself deep behind enemy lines, beneath the armour, where the Empire was soft and vulnerable. "That is quite an opportunity, Hal."

The remark pressing for his discretion was unworthy of a response. Instead, he pondered on the larger implications of Hal's endeavours, "This manner of covert operation may provide the Jedi with a means to remain relevant in the face of an uncertain future."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Or it could destabilize everything that so many have worked for, and plunge the galaxy into war again if it goes wrong," Hal spoke, looking up from beneath his eyebrows due to the gravity of his words. "This isn't something I'm taking lightly. And the only reason I am doing it is because legally I'm already dead. The Jedi can deny any knowledge of my existence, and that plausible deniability just might be enough to save hundreds of millions of lives if this mission doesn't go as it should."

[Abarai Loki]

"Careful, Hal. You are walking the line of the politician with words like that."

Having no taste for melodrama, Loki enjoyed his food instead. It wasn't that what Hal said was wrong; the peace they enjoyed rested on a knife's edge, and war costs lives. It was elementary. What Loki did not like, however, was the way in which those hundreds of millions of lives were so often used to obfuscate the fact that the peace they enjoyed was no peace at all, but a collectively held breath. For as long as there was a Galactic Empire, peace remained a product of the imagination. Thus, the old paradox: war was the way of peace.

With his last bite, Loki leaned back and considered the thousand stars above.

"They must be destroyed. Every last one of them."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"No," Hal shook his head. "I believe that many of those in the Empire are there not because they desire to be, but because they fear the power of their own government. Eliminate those at the top and those below them are freed to stand up against it as well."

If he sounded like a politician, it was because this was the first mission which Hal had truly weighed the risks of. He could not change the past, he could not stop Manequin or Anna Klein or whatever his name was from becoming Vader and wrecking everything, but if he could prevent another loss of life and freedom, even if it was just by maintaining the balance of power as it stood, that would be a victory. Besides, a true coup would not be able to target the Empress first, you'd have to swing enough of the military to oppose the remainder under her command. No, you start with mid-level officers would be the correct method, though he doubted any of his own plans would ever work in the grand scheme of things.

"But, hey, look on the bright side: if I get caught and go out in a blaze of glory, you can turn to someone and say, 'Hey, I knew that moron,'" Hal chuckled.

[Abarai Loki]

At this, Loki looked surprised.

"You think I will admit to knowing you in public?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal pinched his eyebrows. "Well, duh. I mean, it's not like anyone's going to know who you are. Of course you're going to have to namedrop me to get some recognition."

A "pshaw" was about all that was missing from his comment before he grinned widely and dug in to his next mouthful.

[Abarai Loki]

Yes, when I have need of a one-legged whore at a discount price, you're name will be surely dropped.

Loki smiled inwardly, allowing Hal to have the last spoken word, while he treasured his private victory. He had wits enough for the briefest of verbal spars, but lacked the armoury for an all-out battle against such a seasoned duellist.

Fatigue and the satisfaction of a filling meal had sapped Loki of his capacity to remain upright. He sank to the soft ground, closed his eyes, and propped his head against his pack.

"Just don't get yourself killed, you idiot."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

“I’ll do my best,” Hal chuckled. There was no need for a tent that night as the late summer air was warm, and the air was dry. Crickets, evening birds and the occasional toad performed the evening’s symphony, sending both travelers to sleep with their natural lullaby.

There had been no great treasure, no artifact of religious or political power, and as their food supplies dwindled, even the pair’s packs seemed lighter upon the return journey. Either that or the week’s trek out had instilled conditioning in both human and Nehantite alike which merely made their packs feel lighter as they had grown used to bearing burdens. But despite not being weighed down with gold, gems, or carved ivory from some beast whose species had long ago left the galaxy, both Hal and Loki carried back with them something that no riches could buy, and no thief could ever steal: friendship.

It had been a friendship most unlikely considering their initial meeting, and Hal’s near-immediate betrayal of Loki’s trust with his mission to Ilum, and it was a friendship which was rebuilt only upon time rather than will from Loki’s end, but it was a friendship indeed. Neither could deny it had been made stronger by each traveling toward the other’s end of the spectrum in their lives: a stoic, mature boy learning what it was to be a teenager with a glimpse of manhood over the horizon, while the other had been running from that same horizon so long he’d encircled the globe to find his approach to becoming a mature man was inevitable. For the first time in his life, Halajiin Rabeak wished to know what was on the other side.

Their journey home took them over several horizons, some peaked and craggy, others flat and desolate while still more were made difficult to discern by trees and growth. And yet the entirety of their journey had already been made before they so much set foot back out of that fateful cave and into the sunlight. There was nothing new to be discovered, no wonder or mystery to find beyond the next rise, or around the next bend, as they had been there before and knew what lay in store for them. As with life, to re-tread upon the same ground could bring no revelation, no unwinding of cosmic mystery, only a mildly better understanding of a concept which a week or two before had been wholly unseen and exciting.

Like two trains on parallel tracks, they had approached from opposite directions, and for the short while they met in the middle they could see each other occupying the same space at the same time. There had been chances to shout warning and advice between cars as they passed, warnings of what was to come, and recommendations for things to look out for. In that moment, the two trains knew each other’s position better than anyone else in the universe, but yet both knew the other must carry on its way, for it had a destination which had been laid out in the form if steel and wood track which neither could deviate from.

By the time Hal’s tent came into view, Hal watched from the platform upon his train’s final car as Loki’s passed by, leaving each with little more than to wave to each other before both would lose sight. Neither journey had ended, but each knew that the time they traveled together had come to an end.

Hal swallowed back the lump which formed in his throat as he stared at the door to his perma-tent, tail still and unmoving. For him, it was the end of his journey as a reckless and free child, as he knew the path before him was manhood of a very different kind than he had ever expected to lead. Perhaps if he didn’t step through the door, he could prolong his nascent childhood, perhaps if he went with Loki, he could force his train to jump its tracks and defy the laws of man and nature in order to forge his own destiny.

No.

No, that would not do. The galaxy had been denied the man which Halajiin Rabeak was born to be for too long, and knew he must finally show it, much as Loki had to leave not for his personal desires, but because there was nothing more that Ossus and the Jedi could show him at this time to fill the holes in his heart and mind. Clearing his throat and forcing the lump in it to vanish, Hal looked over at his companion with an easy smile.

“Want to come in for a beer before you go?”

[Abarai Loki]

"That sounds good."

It seemed like the only appropriate answer. Their time together was coming to a close, and it would be outright rude, and cruel, to decline a friendly invitation if it meant spending a few vital moments longer in each other's company. As such, there was no dishonesty in Loki's response, but the jury was still out on the beer. He wondered if it tasted anything like gin. The prospect of it was somewhat exciting. After all, for the average cantina-dweller, ales and beers were the go-to beverage. It felt like a natural step to take.

"Nothing's changed."

He sounded surprised upon entering Hal's home, and he grimaced. His own words fell on his ears like small talk. It was verbal flatulence of the lowest order. Of course, nothing had changed. Why should it have changed? A few days they had been gone, not years. And yet, as he crashed into a seat with more weight than a wampa, Loki couldn't deny it had all felt so much longer. That nothing had changed, it felt... well, it felt almost wrong.

"You may need to peel me from this chair once we're done," he confessed, eyes closed. The reprieve felt like a warm bath. A bath: now there was an idea. Loki imagined he looked a ghastly sight, but he was certain that, the moment he shed his clothes, there would be amberbeaks falling from every tree in a five mile radius. He smiled in perverse amusement.

Across the room, he heard a telling tinkle of glass. Suddenly, his lips felt like dry parchment.

"Is it cold?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's pack was slung onto his bed where it bounced before coming to rest much as Loki had in his desk chair. Rifle propped up in the corner, the Nehantite chuckled. "Why should it have changed? Not like I've got a maid service."

Despite the fun and excitement of their adventure, it felt good to be home. It was a place where he knew just where everything was, and what he could rely on. A place his brain could switch off for a while and just relax without worries. A place with a mini-fridge with some beer in it. Withdrawing two bottles of the remaining four which Solomon had given him, Hal worked their caps free before extending one to Loki.

"Colder than some of my ex's hearts," he laughed before falling with a delightful fwump upon his bed. The beer was heavenly - almost literally as it had been brewed by monks - rich with full flavors and good body, a deep, dark amber-brown in color. Hal could taste the toasted wheat, the aged hops, notes of citrus and spices, all finished with herbal and floral elements which balanced the entire brew.

"Ahhhh..." Eyes closed, Hal savored his refreshment.

[Abarai Loki]

Not a moment was wasted in quaffing his first mouthful from the icy bottle. It went down with a grimace. So, that was beer. In the beginning, it had a sharp tang, like blood, that gave way to a bitter aftertaste. He couldn't say he liked it; still, it was refreshingly cold, and crisp. After a second gulp, he rolled the dewy glass across his forehead, and sighed.

"I was worried it was going to melt my taste buds off, like gin."

The bottle was turned in his hand. Beads of moisture glistened in the light, they decorated the brown glass like tiny gemstones. There was not a single marking or label to be found.

"Where do you even acquire this sort of stuff?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The rich flavor with its complex and contrasting elements was savored upon Hal's tongue as long as it could be before necessity dictated that the beer must be swallowed. Looking down at his own bottle, he smiled. "Rev Solomon brought be these, actually. From what he said, the monks where he recovered are master brewers, and he brought back a bunch with him. Beats the hell out of Hutt Lite, which is about all the bowling alley can seem to regularly get on tap. Though they sometimes get that Sunshine's Pride brand, but the name is just too stupid to order, so I haven't tried it."

Another pull and he wished that the monks could manage to run a macrobrewery so that they could spread the gospel of their beer with the galaxy, as he would truly miss beer of such excellence.

"I think Sol kinda used it to bribe me back into the fold," he chuckled. "I might even end up with a padawan of my own, soon. Bet you never thought that'd happen, huh?"

[Abarai Loki]

"I'll believe that when I see it."

Halajiin Rabeak was a capable and talented Jedi, with a rich and colourful background, and a wealth of experience; he was loyal, and passionate, and sincere; he was indeed many things, but even in his semi-reformed state, master material was not one of them. It was simply a mould he could not fit, and no degree of flexibility or contortion would change that. Not yet. In Loki's estimation, he lacked the maturity for it, and, in gaining a master's maturity, he feared his friend would lose the intangible spark that made him... him. A sacrifice of character he could not willingly support.

Of course, he said none of this. Instead, he held Hal's gaze in a deadpan fashion, to add levity to his own damning appraisal. If being a master was what Hal truly wanted, he would not discourage him, no matter his feelings on the matter. The mock tension evaporated the moment he took another swig of beer, and glanced around Hal's humble home. This time, amongst the bitterness, he discovered a hint of something sharp and spicy in the beer.

"Does being welcomed back into the fold include you giving up your dubious little love shack?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal let his eyes cast about the place which had become his home. At first it was part of his self-imposed exile, but over time it simply felt like a place where he could do his work the way he saw fit, helping from the fringe as it were. It was hardly as modern as the new living quarters, and the trek to the fledgling city for a sonic shower had grown tiresome, but it was still his home, and the only thing he felt he could really call his own.

"I'm... not sure," he replied. "I know they'd like me to move back in with the rest of the Jedi, but there's something about being out here in the woods, in the quiet, that speaks to me. Maybe I just like pretending that I'm living in the Sultan's Arboretum." The Nehantite shrugged before taking another sip.

"I suppose if I do get a padawan, the Council would suggest I be more available, but, a little brisk walk never hurt anyone, right? Make my pupil get in a bit of that phsyical fitness routine you treasure so much each time they come out here to fetch me. Besides, the privacy is nice for... other things, too." The smirk was irrepressible upon Hal's face as he finished, knowing Loki knew exactly what he was talking about. "I think I'll probably stay here until they make me move, really. Well, unless it snows. If it snows I'm totally moving. At least for the winter. Hate the cold. The cold can go die in a fire."

[Abarai Loki]

"This place reminds me of Maridun, sometimes. When the weather is especially hot."

It was about as close as he would ever come to admitting Ossus felt like home. Though, home, it had certainly been, and for a considerable length of time, yet Loki could not recall a time when he ever felt like he truly belonged. Perhaps he was being bitter in his hindsight. Still, he was going to miss it nonetheless - the woodland, the valleys, the mountains - something told him it would be a long time before he saw a place like it.

"Is that the kind of mentor you will be?" Loki said, surfacing from his reverie, "The demanding taskmaster who makes his student trek cross-country to receive a few pearls of wisdom? Have I rubbed off on you at last?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"About the only person you've been rubbing off on has been yourself when I left the our little tent for a while every morning. Though if you're offering, I wouldn't say no." The snark was real. As was the smile and laughter afterwards as Hal leaned back on his comfy bed folding his paws behind his head.

"There's something to be said about making a student work for things, but no, I don't think I could ever be a taskmaster. And I'm pretty sure I'll be the one doing most of the walking, what with heading to the training center and the new gym and classrooms and stuff to teach. Garfife, if only Master Trevarius could see me now. Wish I'd paid a bit more attention to how some of the older masters used to teach, though. It's going to be a rough road."

[Abarai Loki]

In the face of Hal's excruciating candour, Loki almost choked on his beer. Indeed, so violent was his reaction, it was a small wonder that jets of foaming beer didn't come streaming out of his ears and nose. And while one laughed, the other coughed and spluttered and wiped tears from his eyes.

Mercifully, Hal didn't linger on the subject of his quality time alone, which spared Loki from having to wonder how in the world he'd divined the truth of his personal habits in the first place. Instead, he listened, and hid behind his beer while the warmth bled from his cheeks. What Hal spoke of gave him pause for thought.

"Respect is important. If your student respects you, he or she will listen, and learn. Demonstrate your skill, too. This will generate enthusiasm." Just as he was about to take another swig of beer, he said, "And don't make too many jokes. Please."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal eased himself up to a partial recline on his elbows, tail swaying idly by his footpaws where they touched the floor. "Tell you what: I'll make less jokes if you promise to make more. Don't be afraid to make people laugh. It makes you endearing."

He then back up to a proper sit so that he could enjoy more of his beer as it slowly warmed. "So, is this it? This our big goodbye? You going to see the Council after this, then find your transport?" Hal's smile looked natural enough, though it was far from genuine. In the heart he so often wore on his sleeve, he didn't want the trip to end. He didn't want to say goodbye to his only real friend, even though he knew he had to. As a last-ditch attempt to prolong the magic, he then cocked an eyebrow and chuckled.

"Or, if you like, we could hang out here for a while. This is the last of my beer, but I've got soda, candy, some other munchies, and more nerf pockets. Could just chill. Y'know, pop something on the holovision, maybe the kind of videos a man your age isn't really supposed​ to see yet..."

[Abarai Loki]

“You’re not getting rid of me that easily, Halajiin Rabeak. After all,” Loki unclipped his lightsaber, and placed it upon the table, “We still have work to do.”

With a glance, the lightsaber floated a few inches into the air, whereupon it started to unscrew itself, revealing seams in the metal where it had once been perfectly smooth. The hilt split into two equal halves, and, hovering between them, there was a blue crystal that danced with electric white light. From the separate halves, each of their internal components were disgorged, one by one, until they were all lined up in a neat row. The disassembled lightsaber drifted back down to the table again, in perfect formation. Loki studied them with a pained expression.

“This is a well-made weapon. I will struggle to tolerate the downgrade, but if I am going to blend in with common folk, then my new lightsaber must be composed of the most unassuming and commonplace materials we can find. It must be possible to disguise its components amongst scrap and second-hand parts.”

Another swig of beer before he tore his gaze from the mutilated remains of his first love. He looked to Hal, “Can this be done?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The Nehantite emitted grunts, groans and mumbles of frustration as he unlaced his boots, then popped them off to let his toes wriggle freely in the air. Loki's display of telekinesis was impressive, even to Hal, and as the lightsaber laid itself out upon his desk, Hal hauled himself to a stand and paced over to pick up a heavy box. It rattled, tinkled and shook as he carried it, and its contents clattered in unison as it was set down upon the desk as well before the clasps were released and the lid flicked open.

Inside were parts, pieces, bits and bobs to all manner of electronics and various bits of machinery. "Oh, I'd say we can do it," he nodded. "Though if you want it to look like something nobody's going to want to really inspect, and no one will ever steal off of you, you could just make it look like a..."

Don't say it!

Oh, come on, you know I have to.

Please, I'm begging you, don't say it.

"...marital aid." The Nehatite giggled.

I hate you.

[Abarai Loki]

“Martial aid?” It didn’t take Loki long to parse meaning from the words, and Hal’s apparent amusement. His face turned to stone, “No.”

In all likelihood, Hal was just thinking aloud, but this was a lightsaber they were talking about, and Loki was about to give no quarter to such tomfoolery. Open that door an inch and, sooner or later, something was going to get through. Already done with Hal’s suggestion, Loki started to rummage through the contents of the box, turning unsightly chunks of metal over in his hand. Occasionally, he’d find a part that didn’t make him grimace, and set it down on the table, parallel to the row of old components.

“Ideally, I want to be able to break it down into at least four independent parts, that could be stored in a tool box like this. Quick to assemble, quick to strip. Granted, it will be a highly irregular design, but that is rather the point.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal considered Loki's plan, then the box of parts, casings and scraps which he'd built his own sabers from, as well as a few training sabers for some of the new recruits to learn with. Most of the choice bits were long gone, meaning he'd have to take another trek on over to Ramadon's shop for more parts, or to that cute little droid mechanic. Either choice was an equally good option in his book.

"Four parts is about as many as you should do at most," he stated. The more parts, the weaker the structural integrity is, and the bulkier the whole thing has to be in order to contain everything. And on top of that, at least two of the parts should have some sort of actual function of their own, that way in case someone asks what all the junk is, you can explain it. Personally I'd wire up a small battery to your emitter, make it a stim lighter. Power crystal will be the hardest bit to disguise. No matter what, this thing's not gonna be pretty."

[Abarai Loki]

"Of that, I am only too well aware," Loki said, souring at the sight of his growing collection of parts.

So far, on top of a few standard internal components, he had selected an emitter casing, and housing for the focusing crystal and circuitry. That was two of the four external parts accounted for and each looked as hideous as the last. The emitter was brown with age and grease, and, in some places, it was even scorched black; the shroud was heavily scratched and peppered with small dents, whereas the crystal housing was a chunk of ionised bronze, graceless, but robust. He picked up the old emitter casing and considered it, turning Hal's words over in his head.

"A plasma lighter. That is actually a clever idea. I like it." He continued to rummage through the box, "Now for some grip. It needs to be big enough to hold the power cell and blade energy channel, but, at the same time, I don't want to be waving around something the size of canon."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Hyrdospanner works," Hal shrugged. "I've used some old, broken ones that Tevit had from the construction crew as grips on some of the training sabers I made. Might still have one, actually."

His beer was set aside as he began to look over his shelves and rifle through a desk drawer until he found it. "Here we go, not the greatest, but the grip size is good, and it's still got most of its rubber."

The parts slowly came together, each unit housing a necessary element for a proper saber, though it was clear that none would slot together properly. Hyrdospanner for the grip would house the power cell and channel, emitter could be disguised as plasma lighter, an old thermocoupler casing could hold all the needed relays and switches, while an old blaster rifle's heat sink could be made to function as... a heat sink. Hal studied each piece against the pristine and beatuiful saber Loki had carried up until that point, seeing as much of a change in the weapon as he did in the man. To make it all work together would take time for the average technician, less for a Jedi, but Hal had a trick up his sleeve.

"I know sabers are very personal things, and the Jedi who is to wield one often makes their own," he started. "But, if you'll permit me, I can make these go together in a way you can't. Well, at least not yet. Does the layout look good? Can I try my hand at it?"

[Abarai Loki]

"I have always believed that the lightsaber houses at least a fragment of the soul. Of the builder and of the wielder. Typically, this is one and the same person. As such, it is true, the lightsaber is a very personal and precious possession."

Loki had never told anyone that before. It had always seemed too important to share, as if in giving voice to his beliefs he would, in some way, cheapen them. Given his present company, however, he had no such fear. Indeed, he could very well have been talking about the weather. While he spoke, he traced his finger tips lightly over each of the ramshackle components, acquainting himself with every rough edge and imperfection. It felt... right.

Finally, he met Hal's gaze, and afforded him the hint of a smile.

"If I am to embark on this journey into the unknown, it would be an honour to take a part of you with me."

He retreated a step, to give him room to work.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Don't go too far, I'm probably going to need some help," Hal chuckled as Loki stepped back. "You've seen me do some... interesting things, I know. But you haven't seen me do what I'm about to do here. Mostly because it's hard and requires an immense amount of concentration. But first..."

The disassembled parts and new casing pieces floated up from his desk in uniform level as he dug into a drawer and withdrew a few rolled up sheets of flimsiplast. Rolling them out onto the desk, they snapped flat, revealing themselves to be tech mat, with grids of perfectly measured lines upon their surfaces. The parts and pieces set themselves down once more, while Hal took a seat. "Manipulating items in the force is easy, manipulating with precision, however, is much harder, especially at the molecular level. I know, because that's how I built the casing for my saber."

From the back of his belt he withdrew his lightsaber, which Loki had seen several times before. It was old and worn, and to be honest it didn't look much more elegant than the few pieces Loki's new saber would be made out of. Flipping it over, he held up the tarnished bronze butt of the handle, looking for all the world as one piece, holes in the base for heat to vent from. "One piece, right?" he said, then smirked. A quick wrench of his paw upon it and a seam opened which had previously been invisible, the cap unscrewing until it was released. "Normally you'd have to take two pieces of metal, and mill each one to perfectly fit the other. I didn't do that. I created the screw and the receiving pattern inside the metal, separating molecule from molecule along the path, until I got it open. A few other bits and pieces in here were altered the same way. It's how I'm going to do some of yours, but... I'm not kidding, this will take a lot out of me. Are you familiar with the old art of battle meditation? Where one Jedi would do nothing but focus and redirect the living Force to his or her allies in battle, sometimes feeding them with their own energy in a support capacity?"

[Abarai Loki]

"I will lend you my strength." Loki gave Hal a nod, and rounded the table. There was no point discussing it any further; there was work to be done. He found a spot in the middle of the room, lowered himself to his knees, and closed his eyes.

"Ready when you are."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Might want to keep those open," Hal said, though his own eyes had not strayed from the collection of parts laid out before him. His own saber was set down to be used as a template, which would ease his concentration in part, yet still the task ahead was daunting.

Paws flat on the desk, the Nehantite took a deep breath and concentrated upon the parts, not just on their appearance, but their shape, structure, compounds and molecules. The air itself rippled with energy in the Force as he called out to each atom, locating it and cataloging its place with precision before pieces began to lift from the table top and rotate into place. It was only then that Hal's eyes closed, but to Loki - connected to him in the Force - everything was made clear.

One by one, molecular bonds were severed, spiraling in a perfect screw thread within the largest piece which would function as the saber's main grip. Through durasteel the process went smoothly, with each new surface smoothing itself out once bonds were broken, creating a cut which no machine or man could ever make on their own, until at last he carved out the end plug, and the one piece spun apart into two, and it was only the beginning. Piece after piece was cut, altered, smoothed, bored, whatever was needed to allow components to fit seamlessly, and all done without a word.

But there were sounds: grunts and strained whines during the more complex cuts, and Hal's paws trembled when joining together two metals with different molecular structures by bonding their molecules together more perfectly than any weld. The Force coursed through the world around them, drawn through Hal like a massive conduit, and yet still its power was not enough. One by one, the living cells of the Force within Hal began to burn up as expended them faster than he could replenish, until he felt his legs go useless, then his paws at the wrists. Danger alerts screamed in his head, warnings that he was overdoing it, yet still he kept working as his core felt the strain.

Wires were fit, joined without solder into perfect circuits which could never fail. Relays were altered for better connectivity, vents notched to assist in cooling, while complex electronics were fit in flawless containment until at last he shuddered a cry and nearly felt himself fall. Typically he would spend hours doing such precision work, with breaks every minute or two so that he did not get exhausted, but he knew he could not allow himself such luxury in this case. Forcing his left arm to respond, it stumbled off the desk and to the side, fingers outstretched to find Loki's shoulder, and once it did, his grip was more than iron. The connection made was not merely flesh to flesh, but within the Force as well, and the raging vacuum of the Force within Hal opened to claw hungrily at Loki's own power, sucking the very Force energy out of him with painful strength. Within that connection, Loki became part of Hal's thought process, and the world as the Nehantite saw it was opened up before the young man.

No longer were there wholes, absolutes and possessions, but instead everything was matter, displaying all that which it contained, and all the energy within. Anything could be anything, if Hal wished it and focused hard enough, yet all his focus was upn the saber taking shape before him, and Loki found himself able to see the exact process through which it was being made. The Force burned in a raging infero, its energy consumed in altering matter at its most base levels, imparting Hal's will instead of the natural order of things, his focus dominating the elements themselves. Once or twice the connection began to fade as Hal overexerted himself, only to be recharged with a greater draw from Loki, who became part of his thoughts. Through their link, no words needed to be said, and Hal allowed Loki to guide his build, making the saber as much a part of Loki's creation as his own, until at last it was complete.

Paw slipping from Loki's shoulder, the connection broke, and immediately the terrible power of the Force ceased, while Hal fell out of his chair onto the floor of his permatent, motionless and breathing heavily, with only a flicker of the Force remaining alive within him. Hal did not know what would happen if he ever burned it all up. Upon the desk lay Loki's new saber, its screw-shut chamber open to accept the crystal which would power it.

[Abarai Loki]

In the beginning, Loki had found the process familiar and enjoyable. His concentration was perfectly balanced between supporting Hal and guiding the construction of his lightsaber. The Force flowed through him like water, acting as both coolant and fuel for Hal's costly exertions. It was Loki's job to keep him strong, and to keep him focused, and, in that, he'd succeeded. At least, for as long as he could.

When Hal reached out, however, his point of focus lurched dramatically. Where the water once flowed, it surged forward, as if spiralling down a drain. He fought against the pull as best he could without denying his friend the strength he needed. The world had opened up around him in ways his mind could not comprehend. It was like staring directly into the sun, like sitting at the heart of an orchestra and attempting to ignore the music, it was finding yourself being crushed in a room whose walls were expanding at inexorable speed. But he shut it all out, and poured himself into the small collection of components that were rapidly taking shape before him. He was at his limit, and it was not enough.

Hal's grip tightened, and Loki found not only his strength, but his very thoughts were pulled in as well. He had nothing left to resist. His body was not his own, his mind was not his own; he was just a thing to be consumed. And Hal's appetite was ravenous. The last thing he remembered was standing where Hal stood, feeling his own shoulder in his hand, and buckling under the immense strain of his unfathomable work.

When he came to, Loki's winced; his headache was so strong, it turned his vision white. The floor was pleasantly cold against his wet boiling face. Slowly, he stirred, and hissed when he smacked his head upon the underside of the table. Hal was still on the floor beside him, limp, and gasping for breath. It was a startling sight. He pulled himself close.

"Hal," his voice was hoarse, as if he'd just sprinted all the way to Miwù Shanmà, "Are you alright?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Muscled twitched in the Nehantite's arms, providing the illusion of control, and while his pink eyes remained open, Hal could not see. It was everything he could do to force himself to breathe, air coming in weak breathes, scarcely enough to replenish the oxygen in his bloodstream to keep his brain alive, the rest of his body be damned. Not since his days as a Padawan had he pushed himself so hard, and that was only because he didn't know the danger until he woke up three days later in the med bay, hooked to all manner of machines.

Loki's words came to him down a tunnel of distortion, the Nehantite's ears flicking and straining to capture them. A grunt came as his reply, followed by a twitch of a finger, and he could do no more until several more breaths wheezed from his open maw. "Five... minutes..." he managed at last before his eyes closed and he went still, aside from breathing.

When he woke, he found himself still on the hard floor, though on his back and staring up at the pitched ceiling of his perma-tent. His chair rolled off beside the door, Hal had been laid out straight, likely the best Loki could do if he hadn't the strength to life Hal up onto the bed. Vision cleared slowly, still in a maddening blend of color and black and white, and Hal let his eyes close again simply to focus his thoughts.

"I'm... I'm sorry."

The words escaped his lips followed by a struggle to sit up, though he only managed to lift his head before it clonked back down again. "You weren't ready for that. I overdid it. Are you okay?"

[Abarai Loki]

"I will be."

Loki watched Hal from his own spot on the floor, where he sat, propped up against the bed. There was lead in his muscles, and he ached all over. His mind trudged through thoughts like they were molases. It was only fair he shared in the cost of Hal's craftsmanship, even if it was the most exhausted he'd been in a long time. He didn't want to imagine how Hal felt, although he could tell, from his choice of words, that his friend was in danger no more. But he had come close. The impetuous fool.

"Had I known you were to take such a risk, I would've declined your offer. You could have killed yourself." It was stated, not as condemnation, but as fact. Indeed, he considered, darkly, had he held on any longer, Hal's wouldn't have been the only fatality, "That was no Jedi technique, Hal. You know that, don't you?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's eyes stared up at, and straight through the ceiling of his tent as he lay still. "Light side, dark side, what I did isn't technique from either one," he managed, grunting toward the end as he attempted to move, yet had no luck. "There is the Force, it is in all things, and I just know how to borrow it. It grows back, faster in you or I than in other things, but it always returns. But could you see it? See as I saw, the world as I witness it, its infinite expanse at the smallest level? That bubble of air under the lake, that wore me out, but those were simple elements, this was much more difficult."

His tail twitched, more on its own than by his own effort, before it went still once more. "You're right, though. I could have killed myself. I wound up in a coma for a few days, and the ICU for a week after overdoing it the first time. The Force doesn't like being bent to the degree I make it; it burns out instead of straining, and it takes my energy with it. That's the price I pay for doing what I do. For who I am. For what I am."

[Abarai Loki]

"What you are, Halajiin Rabeak, is a singularly gifted Jedi."

Hal's words forced Loki to roll his eyes. For a second, he glanced away to disguise his amusement, and dismissed it with an incredulous shake of the head. Let it never be said that Halajiin Rabeak did not have a flair for the melodramatic.

"The manipulation of matter is not of the Dark Side, I agree. The way you use and replenish your strength, however, most certainly is. The Force is not inherently destructive. Nor is it expendable, like... tibanna gas." His example was punctuated with a shrug. Now, he shuffled close, and placed a hand on Hal's shoulder, "You, on the other hand, are. And the Dark Side always comes at a cost."

Finally, Loki rose to go and inspect the finished product.

"Please, be careful, Hal. I won't be around to save your ass next time."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Pity," Hal groaned, at last able to bring himself up to rest on his elbows. "It's a really nice ass; worthy of saving."

That was all the energy Hal could muster, and he braced himself there on locked elbows, feeling strength slowly returning to his limbs, though it would be another minute or so before his toes came back online. Toes were always the last thing to wake up. Stupid lazy foot-fingers...

Upon the desk lay Loki's new saber, open to accept a khyber crystal. Fully assembled, it bore enough likeness and form to its intended use, yet it could still be broken down into three pieces as Loki had wished. The tool itself bore its visage as a contradiction in terms: graceful yet chunky, well-crafted yet rustic. Perhaps it held more in common with its owner than either of them realized, as it was a new visage given to a constant core and purpose, one which could adapt to the world around it instead of holding itself high upon its own immaculate exterior.

"If you want to fire it up, go for it," Hal said from his place on the floor. "There's no blade length dial or control, but I can set it at whatever you like once its active. Should have enough left in me for that."

He made no comment about the dark side, or his own feelings regarding his use of the Force against its nature. It was such a discussion which caused a fallout between himself and Master Trevarius, so long ago, and a subject he did not wish to cause similar strain with his only friend in the current Order.

[Abarai Loki]

From the row of old lightsaber components, the crystal floated into the air. It was shortly followed by the other parts, which started to reconnect, slot into place, and screw shut with a fluidity that suggested this had been done many times before. In truth, Loki new his old lightsaber as well as he knew himself, and there was something melancholy about the sight of it floating before his eyes, reassembled, but no longer whole. The crystal drifted gently into its new housing, and the scruffy new lightsaber twisted shut.

"It's heavy," he noted, the moment he picked it up. Then, with a look Hal's way, added, "Not too heavy."

The metal was coarse, here and there, and there were ridges and plates in unfamiliar places. Part of him was already regretting his decision. But that was good, he reminded himself, as he held it at eye-level, balanced on his palm. It was not supposed to be stylish, or elegant. The whole point of his new weapon was that it looked wholly unimpressive. Except...

With a satisfying snap-hiss, a brilliant column of light leapt from the emitter, bathing the humble interior of Hal's home in electric blue. Loki smiled, recognising it at once.

"It's perfect."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Thank Garfife for that," Hal breathed a sigh of relief. Any further work upon it would have surely run his tank to empty, but given reprieve from building he managed to pull himself up from the floor. Limbs trembled and wobbled before he found his chair, where sitting upright was a new adventure in balance momentarily while he watched the blue blade float and hum in Loki's hands.

"Looks good," he said with a nod. "I think it's actually a touch longer than your previous one, but that suits you since you've got better reach, now. Tried to focus the weight into the pommel so that the blade can react faster, but I can move some of that mass around in a bit if you prefer it more balanced. Anything you want changed, let me know now, because ain't no way in hell anyone's going to be able to get to those internals without some serious cutting and welding without me around."

For all his words about design, balance or function, Hal studied the wielder more than the saber itself. Loki was ready to go, to leave Ossus - possibly to never return, and it would be the loss of a true friend. A sad smile was allowed to play itself out upon his face, mixed with pride that he'd at least rubbed off a little bit on the now-restless teenager. All things change, often when you least wish it to, but such was the course of life and the curious twisting of Garfife's will.

Swallowing back a lump in his dry throat, the Nehantite sighed and said, "I'm gonna miss ya, kid."

[Abarai Loki]

The lightsaber turned in Loki's hand one last time, and he became still. He studied the blade for a moment, losing himself in its low contemplative hum.

"Yes. I expect you will."

With a hiss, the blade vanished, and there was silence again. Hal was right: the extra weight in the pommel made it dance. It was a shame, really, but with no adjustments necessary, there was no reason for him to linger. And with sudden crushing certainty, their time together was at an end. Finally, he turned to face his friend.

"Kid," he said, with a flicker of amusement, "I used to hate it when you called me that. And now, look at me. So modest. So... accommodating."

He raised his new custom weapon, and gave a nod, "Thank you, Hal."

It was clipped in place at his hip. Next, he laboured over his old Jedi weapon, stuffing it into his pack with deliberate lethargy, drawing out the moment. When he could stall no longer, he finally turned around again, and shrugged off the inherent awkwardness of the situation.

"So, this is it, then?" His trademark frown made a return, "I suppose you'll be wanting a hug."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

There were so many words Hal wished he could say in that moment. Words to prolong it, to keep Loki there, and to let him know how much Hal valued their friendship. But they would not come out, trapped deep inside for fear that perhaps one of the wrong words would slip out with them, and so he sat and watched in silence.

In Loki's own words, this was it; the end of their time together on Ossus, and he wondered if this was how his parents felt when he left Nehantish so long ago to head to the Jedi Order. Of course he promised he'd call, and yet those calls were few and far between - a chore at the time which he would give anything to have one more of, now. Yet through all he felt, a smile of pride lit up Hal's face in honest fashion, and he stood before his friend. Loki was as tall as himself, now, if not even a touch taller, and Hal was reminded how much time can change things.

"I guess this is it," he said with a sigh, some sadness invading his smile. "And, yeah, a hug would be nice, but only if you're willing to give me one."

[Abarai Loki]

For the most fleeting of instants, Loki was transported into the past, when he and Halajiin Rabeak first met. They were as oil and water, back then. Hal, the overly-familiar one, who was passionate, and tactile, and completely shameless; he, on the other hand, had been cold, distant, and intolerant of frivolity. The Abarai Loki that once inhabited his body and mind had been a slave to tradition, and, frankly, an arrogant pretentious little shithead. There, he admitted it - well, at least to himself. And it pained him to think that, even for a heartbeat, Hal had been given the impression the old Loki was back, and was as cold as ever. His sarcasm, it seemed, needed some work.

"Come here, you sentimental sap," he said, breaking the facade with a smile. In no time, the distance between them was closed, and Loki pulled his old friend into him with unreserved affection. The strength in Hal's embrace was telling; he yielded to it, pleased he could give at least something back before he left. He held on tight, but when his heart started to ache, he knew it was time to let go. That was the most difficult part: the sadness. His brow furrowed. No. They couldn't part ways like that. It wasn't them. Limbs still locked, Loki finally spoke up, "I am going to miss you, too, Hal."

And, suddenly, he found for himself a generous handful of Hal's buttock, and squeezed.

"Especially this part."

Victory was signalled with a clench of surprise. He released, and pulled away, bright with wicked amusement. His smile was broad, and he saw it reflected in his friend. That was much better.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's own smile brightened the room as Loki went in for the hug, and it was one most wholeheartedly returned. Despite their initial misgivings, and the relatively short time they'd known each other, Loki had become the best friend Hal ever had among the Jedi, and his loss would be palpable, so Hal held tight, wishing he could never let go. Yet he had to, and it was with some surprise that his embrace softened slightly before Loki's did, though the boy's words warmed his heart.

Opening his mouth to reply, the deep, heartfelt words he wished to say found themselves immediately replaced by a sharp yelp of surprise as his ass was grabbed, causing then Nehantite to stiffen his posture, then laugh as he'd intended to do that to Loki as a gag but was beaten to the punch!

His paws slid back off of Loki's shoulders with a squeeze of their own, and a quick ruffle of his hair while he laughed, actually blushing beneath his fur. "Well now, guess you're just gonna have to keep missing it until you get back, then, won't you?" he winked, still chuckling. "But until then, do me a favor? Once a week or so, drop me a message, let me know how you're doing, and I'll reply. I won't tell anyone else if you don't want, but I just don't want you feeling alone out there, okay? And if we cross paths again and you're a bit older... I just might let you get another ass-grab. Or more." Another wink and a broad smile.

"Now, c'mon, you better be moving on before you have second thoughts, here, and Garfife knows you're gonna need a shower before seeing the Council!" Leaning down, he picked up Loki's pack, struggling with the weight as his strength had not fully returned. Hefting it, he took a deep breath and said, "In my culture, we have a saying when someone goes off on their own: good hunting. No matter what it is out there you need to find, Loki, good hunting."

[Abarai Loki]

"Farewell, Halajiin Rabeak. May the Force be with you."

Before the words were out of his mouth, it stretched into a sheepish grin. It was the first time he'd ever said that; the sentiment was strange. Loki, however, understood the importance of the phrase, and how it was reserved for moments of rare significance. Regardless of his personal misgivings, it felt appropriate.

Into the sun, he took his first step on a new journey, a long journey, that would take him far away from friends, far away from everything he'd ever known. Though he carried a Jedi's weapon, he wasn't one of them, and he would tell the Council as much. He was Abarai Loki, and it was about time he found out who that was.

Before the worn track disappeared, he stopped, and turned. There was Hal, watching. Loki held on to the moment for as long as he dared, allowing it to take root deep within. Then, he gave a nod, one last gesture of gratitude, and turned out of sight.