The Call of Nature

[Abarai Loki]

It was a beautiful day on Ossus. The sun was high, the sky was wearing its brightest blue, and the only clouds clung in wisps to mountain peaks like cobwebs blowing in a breeze. When Loki cleared the mountain pass, he winced at the light, and felt its warmth ooze through his clothes like honey. He raised a hand to shield his eyes and marvelled at the view.

The valley unfurled itself in graceful verdant slopes of knee-high grass and shimmering dew-kissed fields. Sunlight danced playfully down the hillside, it rolled on a sea of glossy tree canopies, and splashed on the surface of a lake with dazzling vigor. He took a long deep breath, wishing he could somehow inhale the beauty around him, and plant it in his soaring heart. By virtue of the altitude, the air was crisp and clean, much like it had been in Miwu Shanma, except here, when the wind dipped into the valley, it was perfumed with the sweet kiss of citrines. It urged him onwards, the lapping breeze at his back, beckoning him to explore - Loki was happy to oblige.

There was no trail; every step provoked a gasp of grass as it brushed against his shins. His presence felt like a violation, but ahead, the trees were whispering and the crystal waters winking, and the virgin land sung its siren's call. It was as if Ossus itself had chosen him, Abarai Loki, to share in its secret jewel. Untouched by the Jedi, here, he could make for himself a home; if there was good earth and game; if he so desired. It had been a week since he'd last seen another Jedi; they say absence makes the heart grow fonder, but in truth, his felt lighter. He rejoiced in his newfound freedom. He ran.

A fisherman swoop sailed overhead with a mighty beat of its wings. Loki watched with delight as it dipped low over the fields, and with another beat of wings, skimmed the surface of the lake, flying like a spear; a sudden splash, and the bird vanished, only to reappear an instant later with a silver fish in its beak. It shook off water like diamonds from its yellow-crested head, and took to the skies with its prize. In that moment, Loki made his decision: this was his new home. Sprinting now, blissfully oblivious of the heavy load on his back, and the obscene clattering of tin pots, he recalled his youth on Maridun, and the days with nothing but the sky above him and the soil beneath him. He was free. And the first thing he was going to do was unburden himself of his pack, and his boots, and his clothes, and baptise himself anew in those crystalline waters.

His giddy train of thought was derailed, however, by a sudden and resounding crack. Loki's gaze fired left and right, picturing an Ysanna sharpshooter hiding somewhere in the underbrush, but it was not a bullet that hurtled in his direction, but a shiny red ball. He dived just in time, and tumbled like a battle-ready Amani down the hill. When he came to a stop, it was with a thunderous crash of cooking utensils. Buried under the weight of his pack, he struggled to his knees with a grunt, spitting grass. And, as he resurfaced, he spotted a figure rising over the top of the hill. He squinted against the sun, and, with the force of a crashing Star Destroyer, his fears were realised.

"Halajiin Rabeak. What are you doing here?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Scoring a boundary, obviously," Hal replied. The red, leather-bound ball flew back into his right paw, summoned by the Force, and was then transferred into his left where he already carried a cricket bat. Reaching down, he extended his free paw to help the young man up. "Better question is, what are you doing out here? Never seen you at the lake, before."

It took but a moment to right Loki, and Hal looked the young knight up and down. "Been camping, have we?" he asked.

The Nehantite, as usual, looked nothing like the Jedi knight that he was. Khaki cargo shorts hung loose on his hips, while an short-sleeved, casual, white button-down shirt remained open across his upper body. The sun caught the edges of his yellow fur at just the right angle so that he appeared to have a golden halo - a sign of sanctity that seemed ill-deserving to the mongoose.

Loki had been missing for over a week, but now that Hal knew him to appear safe and well, he asked no questions about the subject. He knew full well what it was like to need some time alone.

[Abarai Loki]

"No," Loki grumbled, and followed suit in inspecting himself. Where his clothes had been stained by the grass and dirt, it looked like he had been smeared down one side by the stroke of some giant paintbrush. He dusted himself off. "I have been staying with the Gossam, on the mountain."

Once he was done with his own damage assessment, he considered Hal with undisguised scrutiny. He looked very well. Upon reflection, this came as no surprise: between the rolling hills and mountain air, and the dustbowl building site that was Sanctuary One, there was no comparison. Halajiin Rabeak carried himself with a lethargic sort of ease that was anathema to the organised mind, even his clothes looked ready to fall away at a moment's notice - which, in his case, was probably true. In his hand, he held a club of some sort, and the ball that nearly took Loki's head off. It was, in all likelihood, some manner of sporting apparatus, but for what reason someone would seek distraction from the staggering scenery all around them, Loki could only imagine.

"This place: I didn't know it existed."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal stepped back, popping his ball back into his right paw, then turned to survey the landscape. Surely there had to be somewhere on Nehantish that resembled it, but for the life of him, Hal had never seen it. Coruscant had boasted no such beauty, and the Nehantite was certain his memory of such places was confined purely to things which he had seen on holovision. Perhaps that was what had made his time by the lakeside seem surreal, disconnected. It was the place he came to practice his batting, to swim, or to just lay in the sunshine, reveling in the peace and quiet of being alone. To his knowledge, he'd never seen anyone else there, once he thought about it, which was likely why he had been so carefree in cracking off great, fence-swinging boundary hits.

"Yeah," he said without thinking. Staring out across the glittering waters, he couldn't help but smile. "I don't think anyone else knows it does, to be honest. It's sort of my private little getaway. Well, one of them, at least. I've explored a bunch of the area, around here. Had time for it, and all that."

There was a bitter swish of his tail to accompany his words, a sense of subtle mourning despite such freedom. Still he smiled. He nearly always smiled, to the point where a mask matched reality so closely that both genuine and counterfeit expressions were nigh indistinguishable. "C'mon, I've got some tea chilling down by the lakeside. Looks like you could use a drink," he said, then paused, "Well, unless you're in a hurry to get back to the complex, that is."

[Abarai Loki]

"No," he answered, a little too urgently, "I will join you."

It was the most diplomatic answer in his arsenal. The last thing he wanted to do was betray his own intentions to a fellow Jedi. But then, this wasn't just any Jedi, it was Halajiin Rabeak, and if he was half as acquainted with the land as he claimed to be, then it would not have escaped his attention that Loki was travelling in the opposite direction to the Jedi sanctuary. Perhaps Hal was being diplomatic, too.

There was still some distance to go before they were at the lake. Loki trudged clumsily down the steady incline, sore from his fall, and acutely aware of the clattering mountain of belongings on his back. But it was the disappointment that he hadn't just discovered his own personal paradise that hung heaviest on his shoulders; a childish complaint made worse by the fact that, not only did it turn out that Hal frequented the place to play games, but that he also had a jug of iced tea waiting for him by the lake. And, as the sun climbed higher overhead, the thought of an iced tea became very appealing - his companion had read him right in that regard.

"You told me you scored a boundary. I assume that is some sort of sporting terminology."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal popped the ball up into the air before catching it once more, as he walked, grinning. "Yeah, Cricket," he replied. "It's a game brought to Nehantish from off-world, not sure where it originally came from, but it's a pretty popular sport where I'm from. A boundary is where you hit the ball over the fence line. Automatic six runs scored. I'd explain the rules of the game, but... to be fair even I don't really understand them. I just like hitting the ball."

While there was no need to demonstrate, Hal did, anyway. Jogging up a few steps to clear some distance from Loki, he tossed the ball up into the air, then grasped the handle of his strange bat and cracked home a fantastic hit with the flat of the bat, sending the red ball flying. Watching it soar, Hal eventually reached out his right paw and called the ball back. "Kinda like that."

It was the only chance for a hit he got before they reached the lake shore, where Hal tossed both bat and ball into the scrub grass before tugging on a rope leading into the water. Within a few seconds it was revealed that there was a jug of iced tea on the other end, weighted by rocks, kept in the water to keep it cool. Hauling it out, Hal untied the ropes and passed the glistening jug to his guest. "Sorry, no cups. I usually just pull straight from the jug," he explained. Then he nodded to the heavy pack that Loki still bore, and chuckled. "And, feel free to take a load off. Beautiful day, no reason to be in a hurry anywhere, right?"

[Abarai Loki]

Not one to require a second invitation, Loki cradled the jug in his hands, and drank. His eyes closed as he relished the blissful contrast between the rich ice-cold tea travelling down his throat, and the warm breath of the sun on his face. He resurfaced with a sigh. A moment later, his pack, and all of its clunking attachments, were shrugged to the floor. He rolled his arms, he popped his neck, and massaged the grooves in his shoulders where the straps had bitten into the skin. After three hours of hiking through the mountains, it felt good.

"So, this is what you do when you're not terrorising the Jedi Council."

He sat on the sloping bank and leaned back onto his elbows. On the other side of the lake, another swoop plunged into the water, only to depart with an empty beak.

"Halajiin Rabeak, to live in such hardship."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal couldn't help but laugh, plopping down on the bank beside Loki, and taking a swig from the jug when the young knight was finished.

"Oh, I know. It's a wonder how I survive," he said, then laughed again, shaking his head. "Nah, actually I get up to all sorts of stuff. But... lovely day, hot sun... felt right to come out here, whack a few balls around, go for a swim, just... enjoy it. Nobody enjoys stuff, around here, so I might as well enjoy it for them."

He then capped the jug and set it aside before lying back on the short grass, paws folded behind his head. A deep breath caused his bared chest to rise, then fall again with a contented sigh. "Days like this are far too rare and precious to be wasted away with thinking and planning, or chores or whatever else. They should be enjoyed, and savored for what they are; nothing more, nothing less."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki took a moment to digest what he'd heard, and then, parsed the meaning in Hal's words:

"The simple things in life."

It was a philosophy to which he wasn't entirely a stranger - in theory, if not in practice. The idea that, though there was much turmoil in life, and many challenges to overcome, it was important to find enjoyment between one's trials and tribulations. And, for the first time, as he relaxed by a lake on a beautiful day, he think he understood. Or, at least, he had difficulty providing a counter-argument. He closed his eyes and allowed his head to loll like a deadweight. Sunlight blossomed through his eyelids; there were days when he didn't even notice the sun in the sky above him.

Eyes open, he regarded Hal, who was splayed on the grass with all the languid torpor of a dog in a doorway, "So, what do you do on a day like this?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The Nehantite closed his eyes, tail swaying ever so gently between his legs. "Play. Relax. Explore. And if it keeps getting warmer, as it seems to be, I might go for a swim," he answered.

Eyes cracking open once more, he pursed his lips and nodded. "Actually, definitely go for a swim. Weather is perfect, and... I need to get away for a bit. Thinking of a little camping out in the wild. Don't know of another lake this nice, so, why waste the opportunity."

He then rolled his head to the side to address Loki directly. "Why, what would you do on a day like today, dude?"

[Abarai Loki]

Dude. That dubious honorific. In times passed, it was enough to sour Loki's mood, and prompt from him, at the very least, a frown. He would remind himself that his name was Abarai Loki, and that he was a Jedi, and that he had not earned for himself a place amongst the Jedi Knights only to be called "Dude." In the silence between them, he considered the lapse in decorum, and, far from the brown robes, the stringent rules, and the hum of lightsabers, he found he didn't care. Instead, he allowed himself to ponder more important questions, like: What would I do on a day like today?

"I... don't know," he said, and now he frowned, "Routine and responsibility are the laws that have governed my days. Maybe I would... teach a class, or visit the library, or repair my tunic, or... or go for a run!"

The last one was blurted with a hint of desperation, in order to counteract the effects his words were having on Hal's face. He didn't look convinced that Loki knew what to make of such a day, and, in truth, Loki wasn't convinced he did either.

"On Maridun, there were many days like this - my brother and I treated it like any other."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Sounds like you grew up in a paradise," Hal nodded, turning his attention back to the clear, blue sky above. "I grew up in a desert. Oh, there were plenty of buildings, and there was enough artificially watered plant life that it felt okay, but... it was hot. And dry. And dusty. There was a water park, but my family was rather poor, so we never went. Learned how to swim when I got to Coruscant, actually. Had to join the classes with the little kids. Like that wasn't embarrassing..."

He trailed off, sighing again. "But on Nehantish? My brothers and I would ride our bikes places, until one of them got a car, and the other got a swoop bike. Friends and I would play cricket in an empty, dusty lot, or we'd find some back alley and play some sort of bowling. We were out and about a lot, all over our town without a care in the world. When you have nothing, it's easy to enjoy it. Guess that's why I like it out here. It's the closest thing I have to being back home. Well, except no brothers or friends, but, can't have everything right?"

Hauling himself back up to a stand, the Nehantite took another drink of tea, recapped the jug and tossed it back into the water to stay cool, then shed his shirt. "I'm going for a swim, care to join me?" he announced.

[Abarai Loki]

It was fascinating to hear Halajiin talk about his homeworld: Nehantish sounded like a world that had joined the rest of the galaxy, with its spaceships and hyperdrives, but had forgotten to bring the rest of its culture up to speed. So, naturally, when Hal uttered words like cars, cricket, and bowling, they rained like curios on his ears. Perhaps, one day he would get to see that strange world, and meet Hal's brothers; they could visit one of those water parks he mentioned. And then it struck him - with all the force of a body blow from a Wookiee, it struck him: all of Hal's brothers were dead. Everyone he had ever known, friends and family alike, were dead. In a day, Loki had lost the only family he had ever known. In an instant, Halajiin Rabeak had lost everything. He felt a strange swell of affection for the curious mongoose Jedi, in that moment; his story resonated with him in much the same way as the tragic story of Teagan s'Ilancy. And the cruel coincidence of their situation was not lost on him at all: they were alone, together, in a place that reminded them of home.

"Swim?" he repeated. His thoughts ran to the water park that Hal and his brothers never saw. He gave a nod, "Sure."

It was worth removing his boots just for the relief of it alone. His liberated toes kneaded the ground beneath them, and... and they really stank! As he peeled the sweat-soaked fabric of his undertunic from his back, Loki grimaced. When did he become so unbearably putrid? Silently, he cursed the Gossam, and their primitive, but utterly charming, way of life. As he wallowed in a miasma of his own filth, the painful truth was made clear: without a sonic shower, he was a beast.

His utility belt fell to the ground with a clatter. A cautionary glance to the horizon for a wayward Gossam or a local peeping tom, then he dropped his pants. He ran, naked as a babe, along the edge of the bank, across an outcropping of marbled rock, and leapt into the deepest, cleanest, part of the lake he could find. The water was cold and utterly refreshing; he revelled in the roaring gush as he plunged beneath the surface, and felt every inch of tension snap out of him in an instant. His reappearance was punctuated with a violent spray of water from the mouth.

"Hal!" he called out, "Are these fish... vegetarian?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal laughed as Loki nearly cannonballed into the lake, his own approach far more leisurely. By the time Loki surfaced again, Hal was already waist-deep, his shorts left on the bank. "Heh, as far as I know, yeah," he called back. "Never had any luck fishing for them with bait!"

That said, he took a step forward and performed a surface dive. Bubbles pocked the surface of the water where he swam beneath it, air escaping from the millions of pockets in his fur, until he surfaced once more. Wet, Hal appeared quite a different animal indeed. Gone was his flop of errant headfur, and his cute cheek ruffs were plastered to his face, almost making him appear as a golden otter. Treading water, he then laughed. "Damn, I should have brought a ball that floats! Wasn't expecting company!"

Leaning forward, he began to swim deeper out into the lake. "Though, to be fair... there could still be carnivorous fish, around, and maybe they didn't like my bait," he said.

[Abarai Loki]

"There are nexufish on Dac that can strip the flesh off a Herglic in under two minutes."

Whatever he had hoped to achieve by dispensing such an ill-advised nugget of information, Loki was unsure. There was no denying, however, that it was quite interesting. Holonet had its uses, but a nature documentary was no substitute for the real thing. The water was as clear as glass; its surfaced rippled in ribbons of gold across the lake bed, where vibrant gardens blossomed in shades of orange and green. When Loki kicked, tangles of weed tickled his feet.

They pressed onwards, and reached a precipice, where the floor of the lake dropped away into a veritable abyss. How deep it went, Loki could only imagine, and in doing so he experienced a faint flutter in his stomach. He stared for a moment into the dark below, where the only light to be glimpsed was the occasional knife-flash of silver as a fish zipped by. He steeled his nerves, and looked ahead. In the distance, a shard of jagged grey rock was pointing out of the lake like a gnarled finger, and the only thing remarkable about it was that it provided him with something invaluable: an objective.

Poised to take flight, he tore his eyes off the prize just long enough to find Hal, and fire off his challenge:

"Let us find out if all of your lessons in the youngling pool were worth it, Halajiin Rabeak."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Rolling over from having turned onto his back, Hal reached up to wipe excess water from his brow, and squinted toward the rock. He'd seen it before, but never swam out to it, as it was a not inconsiderable distance.

I don't know about this. We're good at leisurely paddling around, but... that's pretty far.

Eh, we can do it. I mean, we're fit, we should be able to handle that.

And if we can't?

Boy Wonder, here, can haul us back to shore.

Please excuse me while I overflow with confidence...

"Okay, but one rule: no Force abilities, okay? Strictly physical power. Deal?" he answered.

[Abarai Loki]

"If it is defeat you seek, you have my permission to doggy paddle," said Loki, with no small amount of satisfaction. And then: "Let's go!"

If Hal wasn't ready, he had only himself to blame. The time for talking was over. Loki dived, and propelled himself away with a series of controlled kicks. His body arced gracefully, toes pointed, allowing him to resurface for a might stroke. It had been two years since he'd last swam in the open like this; how easily the muscle memory returned. Hands shaped like speaheads carved a straight line in the water. He kept his head down and took a breath only when he had to; he felt like a torpedo.

Over the roar of the rushing water, he noticed a heavy slap-slap-slapping: it was Hal, ripping through the water like he was scaling a mountain with his tail on fire. When Loki breathed, he caught a glimpse of the slick-furred mongoose, and he was gaining on him. A geyser of foam leapt skywards everytime one of his large paws broke the water, and with every consequent pull, the distance between them closed by inches. Strictly physical power, indeed. Loki cursed him and redoubled his efforts; he had not spent his entire life hammering his body into peak condition, only to be outdone by Halajiin Rabeak, the leisurely layabout of Ossus.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

In a furious flurry of motion, Hal worked his longer limbs harder, even swishing his tail to gain extra propulsion, and for a short while he gained on his rival. Clawing forward - quite literally - in the water, the Nehantite sucked down huge gulps of air when he could, snorting out of his forward-facing nostrils whenever he his muzzle dipped under the water to keep from drowning himself.

We can do it! We can do it!

He's pulling away...

We suck! We suck!

No. Hal wouldn't allow it. This was his lake, and he would defend his honor upon it! Even if he had no honor to defend, he didn't want to be beaten by a slippery teenage show-off. Summoning up his reserves, Hal pushed more power behind each of his strokes and kicks, his body undulating through the water in time with his tail as he struggled to make up ground. Or water. Or whatever you call distance between yourself and your opponent while swimming. Hal didn't know, he grew up in a desert country, for crying out loud.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki was having difficulty. On land, there were few who could match him for speed; in the water, he floundered. Roku had always been the better swimmer: he, like Hal, had the advantage of upper body strength. To compensate, Loki worked on his technique, with the same iron-clad determination with which he practiced his swordsmanship. But technique could only take one so far. As he struggled against the water, he recalled from his youth a swimming race that went dramatically awry: it was a hot day, and he and his brother had taken to the river to compete against each other - swimming for leisure was simply not done. Unlike the lake, the river was cloudy with sediment, making it impossible to see underwater. They spent the afternoon racing against the sluggish current until they reached the shallows; welcoming rest, Loki placed one foot on the river bed, and the other on the horn of a waiting charnoq. On his feet, he had his speed, and the charnoq's snapping jaws missed his leg by an inch. The water roiled and churned as the lizard beast gave chase, pursuing the brothers up the river bank on its eight stubby legs, hissing and snapping wildly at their ankles. They never went near the shallows again.

The memory had bubbled to the surface because he was reminded of just how exhausted he had been that day - just as he was now, in desperate need of respite. His infrequent surgical breaths had turned into an undignified battle for air. His legs burned and his arms felt so heavy they could scarcely clear the water. He was at his limit, and there was nothing he could do but watch as Hal swept past and took the lead, first by a hand, then an arm, then a whole torso. His arm juddered as he slapped the rock, arresting his momentum. The slick stone resisted his grasp, forcing him to summon the last of his energy reserves to pull himself up, and anchor himself to the ledge using his elbows. There, he sucked ravenously at the warm air, his face pressed against the stone.

"I am... unconvinced... you grew up... in a desert."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Chest heaving for breath, Hal hung onto the rock, as well, grinning as he wiped his headfur back. "I can show you the street it was on, sometime," he laughed. "If it's still there, that is."

He then rocked back in the water, letting his big footpaws float up and stick up halfway out of the water. "Of course, big paddle feet and a swishy tail don't hurt. Not to mention a... well-practiced core," he added with a wink. "Still, dang, I really thought you were gonna beat me, there. Never been out this far. It's... a long way from shore, actually."

Hal let his eyes roam over the glittering surface of the water, the lake's edge and their clothes seeming quite far away, further than he'd expected. "Don't think I'm up for a race back, though. And from the looks of it, neither are you. Let's hang here for a bit, deal?"

[Abarai Loki]

"I will be glad of the rest."

A feeble splutter punctuated the end of his losing bout with the air. He gave a sigh and collapsed against the rock in a wide embrace. His body would be sore in the morning - a good kind of sore. There were days when he felt like he was still growing into it; that he did not quite fit his own skin; that it was not yet under his command. In the past year alone, he'd replaced his tunics twice, and had become convinced his human feet were mutating into something Gungan. Perhaps it was for the best that he was no longer a lightsaber instructor. How could padawans be expected to turn their bodies into fighting machines when their teacher had no control over his own? It was no wonder he lost the race. But it didn't matter: losing didn't feel so bad out here.

Once the ache of exertion wore off, Loki became acutely aware of the icy ring of water around his waist. Already, the sun had baked his back dry. The dichotomy of lower and upper temperatures sent a shudder through his bones. He returned to the water in full with some reluctance. It was definitely colder. So dominant was the encroaching darkness below, Loki rather fancied the landscape itself had been subdued into shedding its colour, like a pastel picture in the rain. From where he was looking, the sky was so bright it seemed white instead of blue. And, aside from the soft rippling of water against the rock, the silence of the lake was absolute. They could be the only two people on the planet. The thought beckoned his gaze towards Hal, whose thick fur glistened and clinged to his body like snakeskin. He shook his head in disbelief.

"How exactly do you plan to get dry this side of Life Day?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"To quote an old song, I typically just shake it off, shake it off," Hal answered.

Gently, he he eased back off of the rock, leaning onto his back to let his upper body float, arms outstretched. Beneath him, the subtle swish of his tail sent him on a lazy backward trajectory, and by curving his spine he managed to pilot himself in the beginning of a circle around the rock. He'd been alone at the lake many times, enjoying its peaceful solace, and the beauty of what he presumed Paradise must look like. But to enjoy it with a friend? That was new, and Hal found himself all the more blissful for having someone to share the experience with. By one's self, there is time for reflection, while only with a friend could true memories be made.

Despite their differences, their arguments, and their equally opposite outlook on life, and the way a Jedi should be, Hal did consider Loki to be his best friend in the Order. For a long time, his only friend at all, even if Loki had seldom seemed to make the feeling mutual. So, happenstance meeting or not, Hal relished simply being there in the lake with a friend.

"Mmm, this is the life," he said, having made a slow circle around the rock, the sun warm on the short fur of his face. "No cares, no worries. Just taking live as it comes." Gently he eased back upright in the water, treading with his legs. "How you doing, there? Recovered? Still need a minute?"

As Loki nodded, Hal ticked his head back toward the shore. "What say we head back to shallower waters, then? Could use some-"

Without warning, Hal froze, his body going tense, and he looked down before slowly moving toward the rock, a good twenty feet away. "Something just brushed my leg," he announced in a still, quiet voice. For a short time, nothing happened, and he sighed. "Nevermind, false ala-"

There was no chance to finish his comment before the Nehantite was suddenly, and violently yanked under the water, disappearing completely from view.

[Abarai Loki]

It was just as he started to relax, when Hal's words were sinking into his skin like gentle rays of sunlight, that everything went to pot. Loki was staring at the cloudless sky, drifting empty-headed towards who-knew-where, when he detected a note of alarm in his companion's voice. He righted himself in an instant, every muscle coiled like a spring. It wasn't until in that moment, when he considered the distance between himself and the shore, and by extention, his lightsaber, that he felt truly naked. The water around him was still, teasing a hint of green before becoming entirely black. He could see nothing.

And then it happened.

"Hal!" he cried. Adrenaline kicked in like a shot, loosening fear's stranglehold on his limbs. His heart raced, thundering a beat for every frantic stroke until he arrived at the spot where Hal had vanished. One last air bubble trickled to the surface with a pop. In his mind, visions of the charnoq swam before him, with its yellow eyes and rows of jagged snapping teeth. He fought to control his shallow breathing. His friend was depending on him! He had to act! He had to act!

Just as he salvaged a scrap of calm, Loki took a deep bracing breath, and then gasped in fright at the unmistakable bite of teeth on his ankle. His voice echoed across the lake like the squawk of a cowardly pharple. Powerless, he felt the inevitable pull, beckoning him to a watery grave.

"Oh shi-!"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Down, down and down into the depths, Loki was pulled, the teeth on his ankle firm, but not sharp. A clamp meant to hold him rather than to make a meal of the young man. And suddenly, those teeth were gone, replaced by a tap on his shoulder.

When Loki turned around, there was Hal in front of him, grinning and waving a paw. The Nehantite then reached out to ruffle his friend's gently swaying hair, then shot up like a rocket toward the surface. His laughter could be heard even through the depths all along the way.

[Abarai Loki]

Eyes like dinner plates, Loki watched the Nehantite depart in stunned disbelief. His heart was trying to punch a hole through his chest, it sounded like throbbing Iridonian dance music in his ears. A fish the size of a twig stopped short of his face, he closed his mouth for fear of swallowing the thing, and it fluttered out of sight. It was the final insult. Even in the icy depths he could feel his face burning, and his chest, for that matter, but that was more from the oxygen deprivation than anything else. Willing an ounce of strength into his legs, he kicked himself towards the surface, occasionally mustering a stroke or two. When he broke the water, it was the sound of Hal's laughter that greeted him, pealing like a great bell.

"You... I could've... are you completely insane!?"

Shameless, Halajiin Rabeak doubled over on the rock, howling. Loki's pink face bobbed towards him, doing its best impression of a scowl. It was difficult to be angry in a state of shock, and the soul-shattering fear he had felt below the water was being washed away by wave upon wave of relief. By the time he reached the rock, it was like finishing the race all over again, and he pressed against it, feeling completely drained. He deflated, exhaling a breath he'd not realised he'd been holding in.

"I thought you were a blasted charnoq..."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

His sides aching as if he'd been kicked, vision blurry with tears, Hal could not stop laughing. The sheer expression of terror he had felt through the Force as he dragged Loki under had been more than enough to make up for not having seen his face. But what a face when he surfaced! Red, panicked, and hilariously perfect!

"Ha ha ha! I have been waiting years to do that to someone!" Hal exclaimed before laying down on his back as best he could, arms splayed out to the side. "Oh my gosh, that was epic! Epic!"

At last, he sat back up paws covering his crotch so that Loki wouldn't feel compelled to avert his eyes. "But, seriously, though... what's a charnoq? Is it a fish?"

[Abarai Loki]

"A charnoq is a many-legged lizard beast that lurks in shallow waters and can remove a man's leg with a single bite. It has horns and..."

His answer tapered off as he realised the absurdity of what he was doing. He owed Hal an explanation of nothing! Hal, who had devised a plan to scare him half to death, just for the sake of his own amusement. And to think he'd waited years to do that to somebody - who even did that!? - waiting for the perfect fool. Loki had been a perfect fool; to fall victim to such a juevenile prank, to allow his fear to get the best of him, and to think that there could ever be a charnoq in the lake. He had said it himself: a beast that lurks in shallow waters. A fool by his own admission.

It was so silly, the whole thing. To go from believing oneself to be facing a violent end, only to be snatched from the jaws of death and granted a second life - that was the sort of experience reserved for the battlefield. Loki tried to recall when he had last felt such exhileration. There was still gooseflesh down the length of his arms. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed it. In his own strange and twisted way, Hal had given him a rare gift, and he had done it for laughs. Loki shook his head, incredulous with his own foolish self.

"You know, I actually peed a little on the way down."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"That's pretty gross," Hal replied without missing a beat. Standing, he cricked his back and chuckled, "Good thing I came up away from you. Didn't want to get in your way for your trip back up for air, and all."

With that, the Nehantite step-jumped out off the rock and dove into the water, his yellow form semi-visible beneath the surface as he glided around in a semi-circle before breaching for air once more. A paw wiped wet fur back out of his eyes, and his nostrils flared as he snorted water out of them, but moments later his smile had returned, treading water once more. "To be fair, though, pretty sure the fish here piss in the water all the time. I don't think they'll notice," he laughed.

A few strokes with his arms carried him over a bit past where he'd gone down, and he peered into the water, there. "I think I did notice something, though. You mind if I go take a look? I promise not to yank you under, again."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki did not look convinced. In fact, when Hal started to circle back, he braced himself against the rock to limit any potential angles of attack. When it came to water, he decided, Halajiin Rabeak could be trusted not to be trusted. All told, it was a rather flimsy excuse for him to go vanishing underwater again, especially after his admittedly impressive acting turn moments ago. He was getting careless with his deceptions.

"Rather convenient, don't you think?" Loki sneered, "You saw something?"

If he could fold his arms without sinking, he would have done. Instead, he allowed his eyes to do the talking, and they were narrowed to a knife's edge. Hal looked preoccupied, as if he was looking beyond the water to something hidden in the darkness. Another thespian ruse, no doubt. Unless it wasn't. And, if Hal had seen something, what made him think he wasn't going to join him in the search? Did he consider his swimming skills subpar? Or, even worse, did he think he'd get scared? Wasting not another second, Loki pushed himself from the rock and glided to a halt beside Hal, with whom he joined in scrutinising what was, presumably, the unseen bottom of the lake.

"What did you see?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"I'm not sure," Hal answered. Loki's facial theatrics had been lost on him, unfortunately, but knowing Loki, Hal was sure to get an encore performance before the day was through. Treading water with his big footpaws, the mongoose continued to peer down into the darkness. "It...looked angular. Like, not like a rock," his elaboration failed to paint a clear and vivid picture in any way, shape or form.

"I want to go take a look, but it's way down there, on the bottom."

[Abarai Loki]

The description of the not-a-rock did little to subdue Loki's doubts, but his interest had been piqued. Curiosity was an intoxicating thing. After a moment of consideration, he frowned, "My rebreather, it was the one thing I didn't think to pack. There is no weight in it, you see."

A glance at Hal made it quite abundant that he didn't see, and Loki wasn't about to begin explaining to him why it had been important for him to be carrying heavy things in the first place. The blackness was goading him. His chest swelled with a familiar defiance.

"Halajiin Rabeak, we are Jedi. So take a deep breath - we will not be beaten by a little lake!"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

All around them, the air tingled with activity, pushed and pulled by the Force, and the will of its weilder. "Take a breath?" Hal asked, smirking. "Buddy, I plan to take several. See you down there."

Snapping his legs in a simultaneous kick, the Nehantite bucked forward and down, executing a far from perfect surface dive, and began propelling himself down toward the lake floor. Behind him, the lake's surface started to dish out, forming a bowl perhaps three feet wide, growing deeper and deeper, until at last sealing back over a nearly perfect sphere of air which followed Hal down into the dark, cold depths.

[Abarai Loki]

Stunned, Loki could do nothing but gape as the bubble submerged with a ripple of surface water. The Force was full of surprises. As it faded into the gloom below, he felt a sudden urge to chase it, much like a dog with a speeder. He wanted to see what Hal, now that he had conjured such a wonder, intended to do with it. His excitement was problematic - if he was to explore the bottom of the lake, it would take more than a deep breath and a talented breast stroke. Focus, he chided himself.

Retreating to a quiet corner of his mind, he took a breath, and the lake disappeared. Gone was the lapping of cold water upon his neck, and the warm breath of wind upon his face; there was nothing but energy; pure, white, cool energy, as free as the air and as dense as a mountain. With another breath, the Force flowed like a river, pouring itself into his muscles, his bones, his blood and his skin. He took one last breath, and dived. His legs worked in tandem, propelling him into the depths, rippling like an eel. Soon he was upon the shimmering bubble, and caught a glimpse of Hal's large footpaws through the gloom. He accelerated, trickling tiny bubbles out of the corner of his mouth.

The lake bed appeared grey in what little light remained to them. It was remarkably flat, and decorated with thick knots of weed that swayed like trees in a gentle breeze. Hal had stopped, and his bubble hovered beside him, and for a curious moment, Loki watched to see what he did with it. The bubble was ignored, much to his disappointment. Instead, Hal squinted, staring across the field of weeds. Loki followed his gaze, and then his finger, as he pointed out a mound rising out of the groping black forest. What was that?

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Among the dark and waving weeds, there rested something which should never be found in nature. Straight lines, deliberate angles, and... rivets? Hal kicked with his legs together like a dolphin as he worked toward it, eventually having to stop, his bubble close at hand. It was then that he demonstrated just what it was for, by sticking his head into it and gulping down a deep breath of fresh air. Pulling back freely, he swam directly over the curious object.

It appeared to be the dorsal fin of some strange, metal boat, but as Hal swam down to it, parting the lakebed vegetation, he discovered it bore wings. It was no boat, it was a flying craft. A starfighter from the looks of things. Paws wiped away sediment, revealing faded paint preserved remarkably well by the cold, dark waters, in logos he did not recognize. If there was anything to be learned, it would be in the cockpit, so he pointed towards it with exaggerated motions, bringing his bubble with him as he went. How a starfighter had wound up at the bottom of a lake on Ossus was a most curious mystery indeed, and Hal could not resist the chance to solve it.

[Abarai Loki]

Following Hal's unsubtle instruction, Loki positioned himself near the cockpit and swept a hand over the soiled transparisteel canopy. The sediment dispersed in an inky cloud. Inside, the cockpit was waterlogged and foggy. He made short work of the rest of the canopy, hands squeaking a symphony against the transparisteel. On his side of the cockpit, Hal followed suit. Watery channels of light winked inside the cockpit, forming a dull halo around a dark and unmistakable shape. More bubbles trickled from the corner of Loki's mouth.

Over the roof of the cockpit, he gestured a lifting motion to Hal, who was mercifully swift in his comprehension. Where the canopy met the crumpled chassis, there were a trio of bolts that had to be manually turned in order to release the locks. Loki was no historian, but, between the strange markings and the archaic design, he imagined the ship had been buried at the bottom of the lake for at least a thousand years. It had the look of a Z-95 Headhunter, except it had a more rounded body and engines like a podracer. They were fortunate: in salt water, there would've been precious little left to discover.

The bolts turned with a dull thunk. When the last of Hal's locks sounded, he prized his fingers beneath the canopy and lifted. It did not so much as budge. On the other side of the cockpit, he could hear the metal rattling from his companion's efforts. Again, he summoned his strength from the Force, and pulled. The rusted edges bit into his fingers, his chest was burning, and when he started to grind his teeth, an explosion of bubbles tickled his face. There was an ear-splitting screech, and then the cockpit yawned open with a groan.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

All about them, fine sediment rose like a cloud, reducing vision to mere silhouettes. Summoning his bubble to him, Hal jammed his face in for another gulp of air, not possessing the phyiscal discipline of his Jedi companion to hold his breath for so long. But not even Loki could stay submerged forever, and as they waited for the sediment to fall, Hal directed his bubble of breathable air over to the young man, easing it down over Loki's head so that he could refresh his reserves of oxygen.

The sediment was not falling fast enough for Hal's impatient liking, and so he reached out in the Force, locating all that was not water, and began to gather it from the site. A small, whirling storm of cloudy silt began to stir, easing the sediment from the site until at last they could see the starfighter once more. It was like no model Hal was familiar with, having never worked in the shipyards, but he knew a standard cockpit layout when he saw one, and was able to identify a navcomputer.

Bracing his footpaws on the side of the cockpit edge, Hal leaned inside, careful not to disturb the remains of the craft's unfortunate pilot. Paw grasping the navcompter's handle, Hal tugged at it, but it would not budge. Again he tugged, and still nothing. Immediately he felt foolish, and reached down to unlatch the locking mechanism, after which the navcomputer slid out with relative ease.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki was apprehensive as the large bubble started to envelop his head, and he fought an urge to duck. Once inside, he gasped noisily. The tinny burble of deep water became silent in his unnatural sanctuary. He sucked again at the air like a starved Kubaz at a banquet. Even through the warped sphere, the carcass looked ghastly. Eager to join Hal in his investigation, he took one last gulp of air. The wall of the bubble felt surprisingly firm against his fingertips as he pushed, removing it with a pop.

The body was smooth, formless, and as black as wet mulch. Where clothing ended and flesh began was impossible to tell. For something that once lived and breathed, the thing looked tiny and frail, fetal; except for its head, which looked like a ball of polished onyx. Loki drifted close, studying the remains with morbid fascination. Hal appeared to know what he was doing, more than he did, at least. Whatever could be salvaged from the ship was probably too old or too damaged to be of any use to them. Still, they persisted.

In the pilot's lap, little hands were upturned like parcels. It looked like it was meditating. A flash of silver caught Loki's eye and he dived. Tangled in a knot of ancient withered fingers was a piece of metal. The fingers loosened as he worked it free, crumbling in places like wet bark. In a flurry, he had his prize: a rounded disc the size of a credit chit. He worked the grit from its markings with his thumbs and, eyes wide with expectation, he held it up for his fellow explorer to see.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

There was only so much Hal could see, underwater. Even blessed with a specially defective left eye which allowed him to see both infrared and ultraviolet light, he couldn't make out much detail in the darkness of the lakebed. Pointing up toward the surface, he shifted the small navcomputer into his left paw, then started up towards the top, his bubble following for a quick breath before it was released, exploding into thousands of smaller bubbles which soared on to the heavenly ceiling above.

The yellow-furred Nehantite broke the surface with a howling gulp of air which sounded much like a bear roaring to guard it's cave. Every fiber of his being ached, and he fought against the building pain as he struggled toward the rock, placing the navcomputer safely on a small shelf, there, before hauling himself up out of the water to pant and heave for breath. Maintaining the bubble of air had been necessary to allow him enough breath, but his rise to the surface had nearly come to an end as he felt himself almost blacking out from exhaustion. To force so many gasses to remain together under the pressure of the water had been nothing short of exhausting, and there, in the warmth of the sun, Halajiin Rabeak needed to rest and recover.

[Abarai Loki]

If it had not been for that bit of rock, Loki thought, as he watched Hal cling to it like his life depended on it, they may have both met their untimely demise at the bottom of the lake. Some mighty Jedi they were. The power of the Force left his muscles like a breath of air; his arms felt like they had doubled in weight, so he didn't exert himself. Gliding gently to where Hal lay, Loki propped himself against the glossy stone, and inspected him. Only his chest moved, firing like bellows. It must have taken an extraordinary effort to keep the bubble maintained all that time - a feat of power that was so far beyond Loki's reach, that he didn't even try to comprehend it.

"That was very impressive, Halajiin Rabeak. You are a singularly gifted Jedi."

While Hal wheezed some strength back into his muscles, Loki turned the silvery chit in his fingers. Its fine markings were as alien to him as the symbols on the ship. Time and silt had polished it like a mirror. It was as thick as his little finger, had smooth rounded edges, and gleamed brilliantly in the sun. What treasures a simple swim could unearth. Ossus was a graveyard of long-lost secrets. With a thrill of excitement, Loki heaved himself up high enough to catch a glimpse of the metal box that had been removed from the ship.

"What is that?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Breaths came in massive, labored heaves as Hal fought to bring balance back to his body. He could do things with the Force that few others had ever done, but they came with a heavy price. All the energy had been sucked from his body, and the living Force within his own cells had become almost fully depleted, leaving him incapable of doing much of anything until he could recover. Oxygen helped, restoring life to his stiff and aching muscles, all of his body feeling as if was waking up from having fallen asleep. Through the millions of pins and needles he felt bringing his body back to life, Hal heard his friend's question, but needed time before he could answer.

Flopped on his stomach, he struggled to bring an arm beneath himself, and turn to face Loki. "I..." he started, then stopped, appearing dizzy. "I think it's a navcomputer," he managed on his second go. "Might be able... to tell us where the craft was from. Why it crashed. Sorry, need a minute."

The Nehantite's head flopped back onto his other arm, pink eyes closing. There he lay on the rock, the sun warming his back, fur beginning to stand up in lazy spikes as the water was slowly baked away. After nearly two minutes, Hal's breathing came back to normal, and he moved once more.

"Sorry, that... that really takes a lot out of me," he said, propping himself up on his elbows. "You okay? Were you able to get enough air, down there? I don't know how the hell you hold your breath for that long, to be honest."

[Abarai Loki]

"My body is a temple, fit to house the power of the Force itself. Oxygen, food, even sleep: they all become irrelevant," he fired a glance at Hal, along with an amendment, "Ideally."

Ideally, because oxygen had been anything but irrelevant when he was gasping inside Hal's bubble. There was a time when he could have lasted twice as long without air; his focus was slipping, and in its place distractions took root like weeds. The lake represented for him a challenge. But then, didn't everything?

Instead of sulking over his own shortcomings, Loki pondered the ancient navcomputer, if that was indeed what it was, and the possibilities it promised. There was a story behind that crashed ship, and the deceased pilot within; it was an itch that needed to be scratched. And what was so important about the little metal disc that the pilot had to have it on his person, in his hand, even as he faced his own death? It was hard to imagine a starfighter screaming towards the ground and crashing in such a place as that.

Loki looked at Hal, eyebrows peaked in guarded hope, "Those markings in the ship... did you recognise them?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Reaching out with his paw, Hal fumbled for the handle on the navcomputer, then drew it closer. In clear sunlight, he could see the markings in far finer detail than he had so far below the surface, but even the sharpest vision helped little in deciphering them.

"Afraid not," the Nehantite shook his head. "I'm old, but... this is just plain ancient. Still, might be able to get something off of it, back at my tent. I didn't go to technical high school for nothing," he chuckled.

You okay, down there? I think I pushed you too hard.

Clearing the silt was what did it. Maintaining the bubble at the same time was insane. Don't ever try that again. I almost blacked out, down there.

For what it's worth, I'm sorry.

Just don't do it again. And, no racing back to shore. Think I need to take it slow.

A guttural groan filled Hal's throat as he pushed himself up onto his paws and knees, then carefully rolled off the rock and back into the water. Swimming while holding the navcomputer would be difficult, but not unmanageable. Leaning onto his back, Hal let himself float, and pushed off with his legs, kicking to maintain a slow, lazy pace. "Think it's a good time to head back to shore," he said, still clearly not all there.

[Abarai Loki]

To begin with, Loki bobbed alongside Hal to keep an eye on him. In his present state, the typically lively Nehantite was struggling to remain afloat with the extra burden of the navcomputer in his arms. Halajiin Rabeak was as able bodied as the next Jedi, and it wouldn't do to trample on his pride by pointing out a temporary weakness. Besides, he and Loki were fast approaching a landmark in their infamously turbulant friendship: their first hour in each other's company without a single argument. It would be an unprecidented breakthrough, suggesting that his time in seclusion had somehow equipped Halajiin Rabeak with the capacity for civil conversation, at last.

Ahead, the shadow of deep water became a sparkling band of crystal blue, and beyond that, a mound of bright green grass rose out of the lake as inviting as a soft bed after a long day. But they were some way off, and Hal didn't seem to be getting any quicker. Throwing caution to the wind, Loki extended his hand, and said, "Give me the computer. I would sooner carry it than you."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal hesitated, his pride holding him back from surrendering the navcomputer. It would make him appear weak, and insufficient for the task, he told himself. But no sooner had five seconds gone by than he was rolling over, and extending the small, metal box to his comrade. It was the first time that Loki had ever done anything truly selfless for him, and Hal could not overlook the gesture. It was also liberating, allowing him to use his arms to stroke and pull himself toward the shore, all the while feeling his muscles and nervous system come back to life.

The duo reached shore almost simultaneously, Hal clambering out onto the grass where he let a series of violent shakes throw the water from his fur as a canine might, his tail whipping back and forth to shed as much moisture there as possible. Fur damp and spiky, he reached for his trousers, pulling them on to regain his modesty. It was more for Loki's sake than his own, as he would have preferred to sun-dry.

Shirt remaining on the grass where it had been discarded, he stood and stretched, at last feeling back to his old self. "I've been recovering data from some of the stuff in the Library," he announced. "I may be able to pull something off that navcomputer, if we head back to my place.

[Abarai Loki]

“Perhaps. We will be fortunate if the computer still works, after so much time and… water.”

To emphasise his point, he gave his thick brown hair a vigorous dusting, spraying water every which way. Free from the cool embrace of the lake, he felt the sun against his back, much hotter than he recalled. There was no point being embarrassed about his nudity, after having spent the past half hour swimming naked in the lake - it felt strangely liberating, to be so far from civilisation, unconfined by uniform, unrestricted by rules, free from shame. From his pack, he unearthed a towel and dried himself off. A fresh pair of trousers were worn in lieu of the pair that were buried somewhere beneath the pile of unwashed foulness festering on the bank. He raised an arm, and gave himself an apprehensive sniff. All appeared to be in order once more.

In his present state of dampness, Hal was an explosion of fur, sharing more in common with the Ewoks of Endor, than a giant mongoose. Fluffy and puffy, it was difficult to take him seriously as he spoke about his personal research project, or look him in the eye, for that matter. He turned away the moment he felt the corners of his mouth starting to rebel, and distracted himself with the reclamation of his filthy old attire - a task that was sure to rob him of any shred of levity. Held at arm’s length, the pile of clothes were regarded with a final grimace, before being stuffed deep inside the pack.

“There is little value in hoarded knowledge, Hal. I do not understand why you don’t share your findings with the rest of the Jedi.” He turned his gaze on him again, only to find he looked no less ridiculous, and with a snap of impatience, he tossed him his own used towel, “Dry yourself. You look like an electrified Wookiee.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The towel struck Hal full in the face, and he let it hang there for a moment, making sure Loki saw it. When at last he did pull it away, he busied himself with a quick buffing, knowing his fur would poof out even more, then, but a bit drier was always better than a bit wetter, in his book.

"Who says I've been hoarding it?" the Nehantite replied. "I've been transcribing. Big difference. And I've also entered my own notes, thoughts and theories on some of the old texts when I felt they were more correct, or if they have been proven wrong by more recent research. I turned my results in to the Council a little while ago, actually."

It was not a subject Hal especially desired to dwell upon, as it brought things back to how a Jedi should act, and responsibility to the Council. Decidedly an area Hal felt neither of them needed to return to, at that point in time, especially Loki. Taking up his shirt, bat, ball and the jug of tea, Hal added the small navcomputer block to his armload, then smirked. "C'mon, let's see if we can pull anything off this relic. And maybe get something to eat, while we're at it."

The trek back to Hal's tent was not a difficult one, as the Nehantite had worn a path out to the lake, by then, and once inside, Hal gratefully dumped his armload of stuff onto his bed. The room was surprisingly tidy; his massive collection of books and pads from the library all meticulously shelved, stacked and organized, his wardrobe neatly stocked, and even his bed was made. Two cups were produced from a desk drawer, and Hal poured out more tea for the both of them before locating his fur brush, and liberally smoothing his now-dry fur out. "Nerf Pocket?" he asked, reaching into a dorm-sized freezer. Not waiting for Loki's response, he popped two into his wave cooker, then pulled a clean tee shirt from his closet, yanking it on over his head.

"So... let's see what secrets might still hold," the words came out of his mouth with a smile. The navcomputer was set on his desk, and a highly-bodged interface terminal was placed next to it. "Hmm, not seen an interface quite like this," he spoke to himself, eying the block, but that seemed to deter him little. Scraps, wires and connections were pulled from a box of spare parts, and he busied himself with testing connections and building what he hoped would be an acceptable interface. "Looks like the computer has stayed sealed. Don't hear any water inside. Let's see if this does something..."

With that, Hal flipped the on switch on his interface, and a holoscreen flickered to life, full of static.

[Abarai Loki]

When the hologram emerged, the first thing that Loki noticed was the colour, a deep sea green instead of the typical cool blue. Whether that was normal for ancient technology or simply evidence of data degradation was beyond his sphere of knowledge - the important thing was it worked. He leaned closer and stared owlishly at the flickering image in front of him. There was a planet suspended in the air between himself and Hal, and a familiar one at that. With every glitch, Ossus jolted on its axis, sometimes replacing its lower hemisphere with a garbled mess of tiny hexagons and code. The navcomputer burbled away, processing the information, and feeding it into Hal’s interface terminal. He poked another switch and the hologram started to draw a fine arcing line into the planet’s atmosphere.

“An entry trajectory,” Loki said, understanding, “Perhaps we can find out where the pilot was headed, or where he was from.”

There was a hopeful inflection to Loki’s voice that even he noticed. The mystery had his interest piqued, and with each new nugget of information, he started to construct a narrative of his own in his head. His mouth was dry from the anticipation; cured by a sip of iced tea, and then some, by the rich aroma wafting across the room. Only then did Loki realise the monstrous extent of his hunger. The countdown on the wavecooker was torturous. An herculean effort put his mind back on task. On one of the large northern continents, a waypoint appeared.

“There!” he blurted, and poked at it with sudden enthusiasm, making the image zig-zag and hiss, “Sorry.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Despite actually getting his interface to work, Hal did not appear happy. His blunt clawtips tapped away at a keyboard, trying to get more information, or to fix the resolution, but instead the whole projection simply flicked off.

"Damn it," he grunted. Hammering away more, the holoprojector came back online, and he managed to follow the ship's path down. It came in fast, slicing through the atmosphere, bits of Ossus's topography rendering in wireframe, where the signal hadn't fully degraded. "Odd, he sure wasn't fighting anyone," Hal mumbled.

The ding of his wavecooker preempted further inspection, and the Nehantite wheeled his chair back, popping the box open to withdraw two steaming Nerf Pockets, tucked in their protective cardboard tubes. Setting both on his desk to cool, he went back to work. "Look, he's not going in a straight line. It's almost like he's... looking for something. Let's see if there's any sort of personal log. Maybe that'll shed some light. These were the days before astromechs, so everything should be in this box, I think."

[Abarai Loki]

With the Nerf Pockets so close, so neatly-parcelled and piping hot, Loki’s attention wavered. The occasional glimpse of a topographic overlay made the processed data more intelligible, but the rest might as well have been Jawa gibberish, for all the sense it made. Still, Hal soldiered on, remarking on the unorthodox flight plan with every unexpected course alteration. His observation was apt: the pilot did appear to be looking for something. While Hal rattled keys, Loki made a surreptitious advance on his Nerf Pocket, and took a bite.

“Mmf,” came the pitiful sound.

By the time he realised his terrible mistake, his eyes had already started to water. Sucking on air, he tossed the scorching mouthful on his tongue in a desperate bid to cool it down before swallowing. When he finally did swallow, it went down like a lightsaber blade. The cup of iced tea emptied in an instant. As his vision cleared, he saw something new on the holographic display: a box labelled Audiolog 3. Hal clicked on it, and a man’s voice crackled from the interface terminal:

“… 1900 hours… running out of time… calculations… the artifact… inside the ravine… south of… great whaladon… coordinates… five-zero… point-two-seven-two-two… my last chance to… so tired…”

From over the peak of his steaming Nerf Pocket, Loki stared at Hal, and said, “That was… revealing. Play it again.”

The tongue-searing pocket forgotten, albeit temporarily, Loki summoned a datapad to his hand and readied himself for taking notes. The game, it seemed, was afoot.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal couldn't help but chuckle at Loki's misfortune. Every teenager ought to know how to properly let a Nerf Pocket cool before eating it, he had thought. In quite demonstration, Hal picked up his own pocket while the message played back. Using his front teeth, the Nehantite nibbled off the top edge of the crust, opening the pocket to explose its meaty, cheesy goodness, and he blew on it, using his paw to massage the pocket's shape and mix its contents while a cloud of steam burst from inside. Once appropriately cool, Hal took a bite, savoring the synthetically delicious flavors.

"Mmmf. Shoundsh like he'sh looking for shomething," the Nehantite said around his mouthful. Attempting to dig deeper, he came up with nothing more. "Great Whaladon?" he spoke aloud, after swallowing his food. "That's a mountain, to the south of here; the Ysanna call it that. I've been to it, but never been south of it. Wonder what he means by 'artifact?'"

Hal leaned back in his chair, the frame creaking as his tail swished behind him in annoyance. To pose a mystery to a Nehantite without a solution was like dangling meat before a rancor. Every bit of his attention was focused upon it. "Artifact..." he hmm'ed. Turning away from the holodisplay, he looked to Loki. "Wonder what he meant by that? If he crashed, that means he probably didn't find it, and..." The Nehantite's pink eyes widened. "Whatever it was might still be there!"

[Abarai Loki]

“The artifact?” Loki said, with unflattering wonderment, “After all this time?”

The very notion of such a discovery fired a thrill of excitement through his body like an adrenaline shot. He was on his feet, for no apparent reason, and studied his meager collection of notes on the datapad. The fact that the recording was potentially thousands of years old failed to quench his swelling enthusiasm. And that his tongue was numb and that he may never taste again was nothing compared to the promise of adventure hidden within each of those disjointed little clues. By comparison, even his cooling Nerf Pocket had faded into insignificance. Almost. After blowing like he expected it to produce music, he took an apprehensive bite.

“So, there’s a ravine,” he said, thickly, approaching an unspoken assumption, “And coordinates. We are short two numbers, but with the information we have already, I think it will be possible for us to locate this artifact.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Strands of cheese still connected the Nerf Pocket in Hal's paw to his lips as he had just taken a bite. Eyebrow raising, he pulled the pocket away, tugging the cheese into his mouth with bachelor expertise, and he made short work of the mouthful. "Wait, you mean, like, us go find it?" he asked. His tail was dead still, and he slowly looked back toward the holoprojection. "I meant it might still be there, but... I wasn't suggesting we should actually go look for it. That'd take... well, at least a week, maybe more, on foot."

In the back of his mind, a plot began to form. Yes, Hal had things he ought to be doing, but... Loki didn't, and this could be a fantastic way to let the young man further out of his shell. Biting his lip, the Nehantite weighed the consequences he might face for keeping Loki from the Council for a while, but.... fuck it. Adventure.

Scratching behind one of his ears, Hal sighed. "Well, it'll take us through a bit of Ysanna territory, but... I'm on pretty good terms with them, now. I'd be game, if you are."

[Abarai Loki]

When Hal insinuated that he did not intend to look for the lost artifact, Loki could feel himself sinking through the floor, disappointment rolling in like stormclouds. And, as he considered the immediate reality of his return to the Jedi camp, he realised, with crushing misery, that he wasn’t ready for it. Which was why, when Hal had a sudden change of heart, Loki smiled. An involuntary twitch, a flash of white, before he barrelled into an enthusiastic summary of equipment and supplies:

“I already have a map and a datapad to track our progress. There are rations in my pack, along with a first aid kit, and cooking implements. We have a tent, and you can use my bedroll if you wish, I do not need it. If we need to hunt, I can catch fish with my toes, and…”

His train of thought was derailed by the sight of something odd in the corner of the room: it looked like a blaster rifle, but ancient, made of metal and wood, of all things. The wood was smooth, shiny, and dark, with a hint of red. Loki knew weapons, and that one had seen plenty of use, and as much love. How Halajiin Rabeak had ever come to own such a thing made him wonder.

“That looks like no blaster I have ever seen before.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The smile upon Hal's face was far broader, and more pronounced than the momentary glimpse of emotion upon Loki's visage, but the emotion behind it was no less genuine. It grew wider, still, echoing with a chuckle as his young compatriot rattled off their needed supplies, but everything took a left turn at that last comment, one ear cocking to the side in bewilderment.

And then Loki changed subject. Hal's eyes followed his to the object standing in the corner, and his wide smile melted into a soft, easy one. "Well, that's because it's not a blaster," the Nehantite replied. "That's a Ysanna rifle (http://www.mongooseink.com/Lithgow-Shooter.jpg). They gave it to me, a while back. Slug-thrower, like what we use to use back on Nehantish, but, a bit more specialized."

Standing up, Hal paced the two steps it took to reach the corner, and picked the rifle up. It's wooden stock encased the entire barrel, with a metal "nose" at the tip. Bolt-action, it was simple enough, with a ten-round magazine jutting down before the trigger. Shouldering the weapon, Hal looked down its sights, then lowered it once more before extending the heavy rifle to Loki. "They're fun. Loud, but fun. Got to practice my marksmanship, with them, and learned a few tricks, too. And, speaking of tricks... catching fish with your toes?"

[Abarai Loki]

The rifle was heavier than he'd expected. In both hands, he turned it, inspecting the intricate mechanisms along the length of the barrel. He raised the rifle and took aim; the wood was cool and smooth in the palm of his hand, and the stock nuzzled comfortably against his shoulder. It felt sturdy in his grip and made surprisingly little noise as he moved it about. When he lined up the iron sights, he noticed a warm earthy smell from the wood, and a sharp hint of lubricating oil. It was a relief to hear that Hal actually made use of it, rather than allow it to collect dust like some pointless ornament.

“An old Lurmen trick,” he said, in response to Hal’s fishing question, “It requires patience, dexterity, and speed. Perhaps I will show you.”

He lowered the weapon and handed it back to its owner, “If you teach me how to use your… slug-thrower. After all, fish and meat are preferable to ration packs.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal took the rifle back with ease. The safety had remained on, the whole time, and while the short magazine was loaded, there was no round in the chamber. Had there been, he would have removed it before handing it to someone unfamiliar with the intricacies of a slug-thrower. Tossing the rifle onto his bed, the Nehantite nodded.

"Yeah, think I've got enough ammo left, I could teach you," he replied. He had far more than enough, to be honest, but if Loki knew that, they'd be out at the range all day. The young man was nothing if not a perfectionist when it came to martial skills, and a rifle clearly fit into that category. "But, I'm taking it for more than hunting. There's some nasty beasties out there I'd rather hit from range, if at all possible."

To accent his point, Hal picked up his belt, lightsaber tucked into the tube along its back, and latched it around his waist before locating a well-worn pair of boots. Shirts, shorts and pants were tossed into a bag, along with some various supplies. Allergy medication, flea drops, fur brush, ammunition, a toothbrush, mouthwash, candy, and various other sundry items were piled in, along with a large flask, and an empty water bottle was clipped to the outside. Hitching it up onto his shoulder, the mongoose nodded to the holoprojection. "So... let me download that onto something portable, and let's have an adventure," he grinned.

[Abarai Loki]

“I remember this place.”

Loki stood near the edge of a precipice, overlooking a canyon. On the other side rose walls of craggy orange rock, bare and unforgiving in most places, except where the verdant canyon floor had spread like an infection in scattered columns of green. Through the trees below, he caught an occasional glimpse of the narrow river that threaded its way between the hulking landscape, flashing like liquid silver.

Once they were sure the tracker wasn’t going to lead them off the edge of a cliff or into the mouth of a volcano, they set off in earnest. They had been walking for an hour, stopping only long enough for Hal to make the odd course adjustment; he was familiar with the movements of local tribes and wanted to keep exposure down to an absolute minimum. And, considering their last shared experience with the Ysanna, Loki was of the same mind. He pointed down into the canyon, where the greenery was thickest.

“If you recall, that was where you got us caught in that shameful trap, and captured by the natives.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"It wasn't that shameful," Hal snorted. "And, we did get what we were after, if you recall, thanks to my help."

There was little value in dwelling upon the incident, as it would only bring up what was right and proper for a Jedi to do. This trip wasn't about that at all. Being Jedi had nothing to do with the excursion. This was simply two friends out on an adventure, and that was all Hal was willing to let it be. Hitching his rifle up on his shoulder more, the Nehantite took the lead, skittering down a steep slope as they followed the ridge. "Careful coming down that," he called back to Loki, having had to use his tail to maintain balance while sliding on the pebbles and scree.

Judging by the position of the sun, they had a good four or five hours of useful daylight left, plenty enough to make it to a suitable camp site that Hal had used before while exploring. But in another day or two, they would be beyond the reach of anything Hal had ventured upon, and into wholly foreign territory. Lining up the holoprojection with the peaks of two rises in the land ahead, Hal gave himself a rough bearing, then pocketed the projector once more.

"So, what do you think we're going to find, at the end of all this?" He asked. "Gold? Jewels? A stash of naughty magazines?" The yellow-furred knight couldn't resist the smirk which drew up his face at that, nor could he stop himself from adding, "Though... if that's the case, I don't know if you'd be able to look at them..."

[Abarai Loki]

In the time he had known him, one thing Loki had discovered about Halajiin Rabeak, was that he took perverse amusement in making him feel uncomfortable. And he knew how to make him uncomfortable. However, Loki had also discovered that the best way to deal with it was to not let his sordid discussions bother him, or, in his case, pretend to be unbothered. It had been a lesson hard-learned. So, he did not rise to it, instead he held his tongue and focused on not tumbling down the precarious slope.

“An artifact,” he said, once he reached the bottom, “That’s what we’re looking for, and, given the history of this world, I think it is safe to assume it is something related to the Jedi.”

On auto-pilot, he found himself on the cusp of preaching to Hal about how they would do the right thing and return the artifact to its rightful place in the library, amongst their fellow Jedi, when he closed his mouth instead, and marched onwards.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"And who says an artifact can't still have a nice set of tits?" Hal argued. "Many cultures had fertility goddesses, and they were often portrayed with a stonking great set of tits. In fact, there's one culture I heard about where their goddess was nothing but tits. Just a big, huge ball of boobs. Can you imagine that? Maybe not my ideal woman, but still..."

His tail swished back and forth in good humor, a laugh in his voice. It was fun to pester Loki with such thoughts, knowing that someday, the young knight's adolescent mind wouldn't be able to resist such thoughts, and he'd finally break through and find the real Loki inside that shell. That, and thinking about a big sphere of tits was a bit fun. Hal adjusted his trousers as he stepped carefully over some fallen rocks.

Pulling back his broad-brimmed hat, Hal paused to look up at the clear, nearly cloudless sky, and scratch at an itch at the top of his head. "You know, I went camping, once, as a kid. It was about the closest thing we got to a vacation, that I can remember. Loaded up the station wagon, drove out to a national park, and spent a week hiking and camping with my family."

[Abarai Loki]

A big, huge ball of boobs, indeed. Loki’s eyes narrowed in disbelief. The logistics of it made no sense at all. Boobs, and nothing but boobs. With no beginning and no end. Eternal boobs. It was an odd word, wasn't it? Boobs. What would a big ball of boobs look like, he wondered.

His reverie was broken when Hal spoke again. It was with a stab of horror that Loki realised his travelling companion was making small talk. And they were but an hour into their journey. When Hal fell silent, he knew it was his turn to speak, to reciprocate in some meaningful way. He was rubbish at that sort of thing. Give him a nest of gundarks and a pointy stick, any day.

Time and silence filled the gap between them like a flatulent bantha, at once, ugly and obvious. He couldn’t bear it a moment longer and started forcing out words, “What… how… did you… have a nice… time?”

So stupid.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Oh, it sucked," Hal answered without delay. "My brothers kept fighting over who got the good sleeping pad, my mom hated every minute of it, my dad kept pretending he was a great outdoorsman, even if he was really just a heating and air conditioning technician, and we all wound up getting lost, and getting fleas. It was a nightmare."

A few more steps and he chuckled, "Think we sold the tent and camp stove to our cousins, after that. The one and only Rabeak family vacation, may it live forever in infamy."

Despite the apparently awful time, Hal's mood was most incongruous to it. He recalled the ordeal with a smile, able to laugh at his own misfortune. "Oh, Gar, and then there was the time that me and a few other Padawans wound up on Dagobah for some training exercise. What a shit trip that was. Of course we all knew it would be, since Yoda picked the destination. I swear, if we had never listened to that half-pint, the galaxy would be a lot better place. You know what slugs taste like? I do. I'm not glad that I do. I wish I didn't. But, because of Yoda, I know what slugs taste like."

[Abarai Loki]

It became quickly and mercifully apparent, that, with Halajiin Rabeak for a companion, Loki was not going to have to concern himself with the conversational heavy-lifting. His was the pod racer of motormouths, it seemed, and it wasn’t wholly unpleasant to listen to, either. He had a strange way of conveying awful stories in a manner that made them sound rather pleasant, in a skewed retrospective kind of way.

The sun was at his back now, and he chased his long shadow over the rocks and the hard-packed earth. Once again, Hal had taken the lead, navigating a seemingly invisible path down towards a sea of looming kingwoods. He would be thankful for the shade at last; between the unrelenting heat, and the unmerciful terrain, he half-expected there to be steam rising out of his collar.

Though Loki was unprepared for it, the next time Hal fell silent, he was more at ease. With a friend with such a penchant for verbiage, the pressure was very much off.

“Roku and I toasted skewered bugs, once,” he said, casually, “The texture did not appeal to me.”

After a moment of consideration, he asked, "What do slugs taste like?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Loki was not the only one grateful for the shade to come. Though Hal's fur did a satisfactory job of keeping the sunlight directly off of his skin, what heat did penetrate remained trapped there, held as if he were wrapped in a blanket. With his arms exposed, Hal would occasionally ruffle the fur, there, to release the trapped heat in order to cool himself. Right path or not, he needed some shade, and firewood would be helpful instead of having to use up combustion warming gel packs.

"Get the right bugs, and it's not bad. Honey-roasted scorpion? Now that's a true treat, there," he said, stomach almost growling at the thought of it. "But slugs... ugh. First there's the smell. It's bitter and pungent at the same time, and the slime? Tastes like licking the inside of an old boot. But that's not the worst part."

Hitching his backpack and rifle up more, he led the way down into the first of the outlying kingwoods. "The worst part is the flesh. It's like a slimy, stinky piece of cheese that's gone off, with hints of some really bad, unwashed puss-" he caught himself before finishing the word. "Well... let's just say you don't want to eat one, and leave it at that," he quickly attempted to cover for his indiscretion.

As they entered the forest, the remaining daylight quickly waned, half occluded by the canopy above. Leading the way in to a small, semi-clear space, Hal unslung his rifle and checked the ensure that a round was chambered before setting the safety. "We ought to make camp here. I don't want to be still setting up when it's gone dark. You want to pitch a tent while I get wood?" he asked. Immediately he fought to keep from wincing at his horribly inappropriate choice of words and phasing.

[Abarai Loki]

What bliss, to finally remove his pack. Loki sighed, and rolled his neck. A landscape of dark, heart-shaped leaves spun overhead. He rubbed at his aching shoulders and walked off the encroaching stiffness; the temptation to crash out and use his pack for a pillow was there, and it was great. But first, he had work to do.

From his pack, he unclipped what looked like a sausage fit for a rancor and unbagged it. Inside, there was a sheet that, when unrolled, had the appearance of a four foot long scroll, with shafts of metal woven into either end, each about the size of a double-bladed lightsaber hilt. Loki lifted the length of material and with a jerk, he released it into the air. In flight, it started to transform, stretching, expanding, rising, so that by the time it landed, it was no longer a flat stretch of fabric, but an expansive, military-grade tent. Then, with a succession of whistling pings, numerous cables were fired from the tent itself, and buried into the ground using their barbed tips to find purchase deep inside the hard earth.

The tent pitched, Loki made good on his promise to himself, and fell asleep against his bulky, but impossibly comfortable, pack.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

It was a good fifteen minutes before Hal returned, arms laden with firewood cleanly sliced through at each end, mildly scorched from the heat of a lightsaber. He had expected to find Loki still finishing putting in the last of the tent pegs, but as he returned to find the large, perfectly-raised structure, he nearly tripped, and only through quick juggling of the stack of logs and branches in his arms did he manage to keep his feet. Loki had managed to pitch a tent faster than Hal could get wood.

Then again, Loki was a teenager.

What does that mean? His higher functions asked.

I'll tell you when you're older. Replied his base natures, still giggling.

The wood was dropped with a crash before the tent, intentionally loud enough to wake his companion, and Hal cleared his throat. "Well, made quick enough work of that, didn't we?" he said loudly. With a booted footpaw, he kicked away loam and dead leaves and bristles, clearing a spot for their campfire, and began arranging firewood in a cone. there was no need for tinder or kindling as long as he had his lightsaber, but it was the only tool of the Force he wished to use on the trip, if at all possible. This wasn't about two Knights seeking an artifact, after all. It was about two friends having a bit of a lark.

"Sadly, no game spotted, today, so, ration bars it'll be," Hal announced. "I can teach you how to shoot, come morning, though, if you like."

[Abarai Loki]

“I know how to shoot,” Loki muttered, righting himself with great lethargy, “I hunted often on Maridun. Just… never with such an archaic weapon.”

Short of any desire to stand, he twisted where he sat and rummaged through the considerable contents of his pack, until he located his own supply of ration bars. An inch thick, and about as hard and dry as a brick, eating ration bars was a joyless experience. But, a shortage of meat to chew was not enough to sour his mood, not at all. It had been a long day, starting with his departure from Miwù Shanmà, trekking through the mountains to the lake, where he met Hal; they swam, they walked, they ate, and walked some more. When the day began, he’d known not where it would take him, and as he rested on the ground, in the company of a friend, staring up at a ceiling of leaves and listening to the first crackling of a campfire, he was content.

“My grandfather owned a DC-15 sniper rifle: it was a weapon favoured by the Galactic Republic, and saw much use during the Clone Wars. He taught us how to shoot, how to field-strip the weapon and keep it in good condition. We used it to hunt corinathoths for meat and leather, or even mastiffs, whenever they stalked too close to our home.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's lightsaber powered down, having successfully lit his firewood, and he stepped back to find a nice, flat rock to sit on, unlacing his boots. "Heh, if you've only ever fired blasters, you really don't know how to shoot a slug-thrower. It's more different than you think," Hal replied.

Forcing one of his boots off with a pop, he extended his leg and let his toes freely wriggle in the air, flexing and flaring them out before then doing the same with the opposite footpaw. "I barely knew my grandpa. The one on my mom's side died before my parents even got married, and my dad's dad died when I was a kid. You're lucky you got to know yours. As far as learning to shoot, well, I was in Kit Scouts for a while, and we learned the basics of shooting light-caliber rifles, there. Most of my real training came once I got to the Order, though. Man, I used to hate all that training, but what I wouldn't give to see some of those old faces, again."

He stared into the fire as if it were some sort of magic screen capable of projecting his very memories, but soon enough he turned to his own pack, withdrawing a bag of semi-hard, colorful, gummy candy shaped like fish. Crinkling the bag open, he withdrew a pair, orange and green, and stuck the green one between his teeth before extending the orange. "Fish?" he asked around his own piece of candy held between his front teeth.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki opened a hand and snatched the candy from the air, when it was thrown. He examined it for a moment, between thumb and forefinger, with a quizzical look upon his face. Then he ate it. It was chewy and tangy and sweet. From the moment he swallowed, and was faced, once again, with his monumentally dull ration bar, he knew he’d made a mistake. The ration bar was rewrapped and pocketed for later, or never again.

Hal was onto something with the removal of his boots; Loki’s feet ached, and longed to be liberated. He started pulling at the laces, while he considered his companion with a sidelong glance, “Our food supplies are provided by the Alliance military. By what seedy means do you come to acquire things like candy and nerf pockets, Halajiin Rabeak?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Unlike his young friend, Hal did not wolf down his sweet, instead nibbling at it and enjoying quarter inch after quarter inch of synthetic lime flavored gummy fish. Half of it remaining, Hal's face pulled a smug, knowing smile, and he leaned back, stretching his toes toward the fire.

"Well now, a true magician never reveals his secrets, dear Loki," the Nehantite chuckled. Taking another nibble of his candy, he then tilted his head and gave a wistful sigh. "However, we are both Knights, so I am compelled to answer you. Yes, our food supplies are provided by the Alliance, but we can get more than just the basics. Ask the right people, provide something in trade, you can often get them to bring you a little something extra. For more immediate delicacies and hard-to-get items, the mining camp almost always has something they're willing to bargain or trade, or even give away in exchange for services. It's all about networking with the less savory, while maintaining the upper hand. Something I daresay became quite the specialty of mine, back on Coruscant."

He took another bite, now down to just the tail, and smirked. "Of course, getting the occasional paying gig doesn't hurt, either."

[Abarai Loki]

“Networking with the unsavoury. That sounds familiar.”

Loki paused to reflect on what Hal had said. It was strange that his unique skillset hadn’t been put to more use of late, considering the tenuous political landscape in which they found themselves. Everything was painted in shades of grey, it seemed, and here was a Jedi who appeared completely at ease in such a picture. While he often disagreed with his friend’s outlook on things, he could not deny that the times called for men who could operate between the lines, men unlike him.

“You thrive outside of convention, Hal. How do you do it?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The yellow-furred Jedi shrugged his shoulders at that, and he leaned back forward, resting his elbows on his knees. "I dunno," he answered. There was no mistaking the honesty in his voice. "Guess I'm just used to it, or something. I mean, getting by while growing up, we kind of had to make our own fun, and find ways of getting by. When I was sent to the Order, well, I knew I was never, ever going to fit in, so I adapted the best I could. Still filled the brief, but did it in a way I could figure out how. Pissed some of the Masters off, but, in the end the job got done, and over time, I was given the jobs that most of the regular Jedi were too linear to do."

He looked over at Loki, shaking his head. "Not that you're linear all the time, mind you. I've seen you flex and change more than you realize. If I was more like you, I'd have been held in better regard at the old Order, and probably never would have gotten frozen. But I'm not like you. And no matter how hard I try, I don't think I ever could be. You've got so much more resolve and discipline. Me? I mostly got disciplined because I got bored and started doing my own thing. You would have liked the old days. I wish you could have been there."

[Abarai Loki]

“You have me wrong, if you think I am exemplary of Jedi expectations, Halajiin Rabeak. No. You are east and I am the west, and the Jedi Order holds the middle ground.”

It was a revelation with which he had struggled at length to come to terms. His time following the hearing had been spent, first, in his own company, aboard the Whaladon, and then, amongst the Gossam of Miwù Shanmà. Isolation had been a toxic experience, in which his thoughts had become polluted with bitterness and self-doubt. In the past, he sought solitude from those who were different, perhaps to keep himself blinded from the truth of his own glaring abnormality, but during his time on the mountain, he had come to realise the comfort he found in solitude was no different than the comfort an infant draws from a warm blanket. It was time to grow up.

The air was cool against his bare feet, offset only by the glow of the campfire. He worked his toes into the grass and the dry leaves, and closed his eyes to drink in the sounds of their surroundings: the gentle crack of firewood, the hiss of spitting embers, the whistle of wind as it tumbled over craggy slopes and the sound of trees that hushed it as they met.

“I broke a padawan’s arm, Hal. I’d be no more at home in your old Jedi Order than I am in this new one.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal listened carefully, hoping to have avoided that particular subject, at least until later. But, now it was out in the open, and there could be no dancing around it. In his life, and his many, many mistakes, Halajiin Rabeak had learned one very important truth: meet a problem head-on.

Selecting a stick with which to stir the fire, evening the burn of the wood piled there, Hal shrugged. "You broke a padawan's arm. So what?" he asked. The words rolled off his tongue as if there was no deeper meaning or significance behind them than talk about the color of someone's shoes.

"So what?" he repeated. "It was a spar, an unarmed one at that. From what I could see, you were both going at it full-bore, it was a natural conclusion. Not like she won't heal, and won't learn from it. Hell, I broke a few bones in my training, and it was no big deal. Yeah, maybe your method could have been a bit more genteel, but, you did what you thought was right for a Jedi. You can't tell me that each member of the Counil hasn't done worse. I've done a hell of a lot worse. Probably a good thing they don't have my old records, to be honest. You broke Draiya's arm. Big whoop. That doesn't make you evil, or a horrible person. Just means your judgment needs a bit more tempering, that's all. You're, what, sixteen? Who the hell could expect a sixteen year old to have perfect judgment? Nobody sane, that's who."

[Abarai Loki]

“You misjudge me, if you think I require some sort of consolation. I know what I did, and why I did it, and I have no regrets in that regard. It was, however, presumptuous of me to subject a padawan to such a formidable brand of training without a thought for the consequences of my actions. I overstepped my mandate and betrayed the trust of my superiors.”

While he spoke, there was no snap of indignation in his words, nor was there any resignation. At some untraceable point in time, he had come to accept what had happened, and the judgement that had befallen him; he was not content with his lot, but, then, he never truly had been. From the moment he left Maridun, he had been at odds with the galaxy and everyone in it, and he was starting to realise that it was a battle from which there could be no victory. If the galaxy wouldn’t change, then perhaps he would, yielding piece by piece, little by little, but not without a fight. He pulled his gaze away from the flickering flames, and onto Hal.

“And you are mistaken to say what you saw was a spar. This is a common misconception. At no point was it my intention to beat Draiya in combat, but rather to show her that, not only did she have limits, but that it was imperative that she recognised them in herself. When and how the lesson was learned was something only Draiya could decide.”

His eyebrows lifted like a shrug, “Does that make any sense to you?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"No," Hal answered, shaking his head. "I get what you're saying, but, I don't agree with it."

The urge to stand and lecture was strong, but it was also a hasty impulse which was beaten down by overriding thoughts of friendship. Loki would hear enough lectures from the Council when he returned; it was Hal's place to offer a different perspective.

"What I don't agree with is that you say Draiya has limits. I don't think any of us have limits," he said. There was no anger or beration in his voice, instead there was calm, and a hint of his usual sense of humor. "If I had been told I had limits, I would have done whatever it took to go beyond them, to prove I was better than others thought of me. Any one of us are capable of amazing things, but we only reach them by unbinding ourselves from the limitations in our minds. That's why we meditate, quite frankly. I have a problem with you thinking another Jedi has limits, and that you, in your scope of experience, deem yourself able to judge the limits of another. I certainly don't make any such judgments about you. What I see is potential, not a limit."

Hal took a deep breath, having gone on longer than he had anticipated. "I don't have limits. I just have potential I haven't reached, yet. That's what we all have."

[Abarai Loki]

"You do not understand," Loki said, wearily, "Limits are there to be broken, but if we do not recognise them in ourselves first, if we are ignorant of our own shortcomings, we can never hope to better ourselves. If left unchecked, there was a very real danger that Draiya's bloated sense of her own capabilities would've put her in a body bag. She was never supposed to reclaim those lightsabers from me: Draiya had to realise that, in her present state, it was a goal beyond her reach. But I am not so cruel that I would show a padawan where their limitations lie without then helping him or her to surpass them."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The Nehantite did not smile or nod at Loki's words. Instead he sat there, his expression like that of a disapproving father.

"Now, see, that bring us to something else I have a problem with," he said, then held up a paw to be allowed to continue before Loki could make a stronger case for himslef.

"You took her sabers away because you said she wasn't worthy of them. I've got a really big problem with that sentiment, and you choosing to use them to make your point, which actually had nothing to do with them. Yeah, I know your intent, but you went about it in a really bad way, and possibly planted a seed in her head which never needed to be there, in the process. She has to be worthy of her sabers. Bullshit."


Now he stood, pacing around to the other side of the fire, bare footpaws rustling the dry leaves underfoot. From the back of his belt, Hal pulled his unlit saber, waggling it in his fingers. "A lightsaber is not the definition of a Jedi. It isn't something to be 'worthy' of. It's a weapon. A tool. A saber doesn't know right from wrong, it's just an object that is put to use by the wielder, nothing more. If your lightsaber was lost or broken on a mission - and it does happen - does that make you less of a Jedi?"

He then tossed his saber across the fire to Loki. "There, now I don't have mine, you have it. Is it because you were worthy of it? Or is it because I understand it's one of the smallest aspects of what we are, and that what I am inside is infinitely more powerful than a glorified letter-opener? The Jedi didn't always have lightsabers. They don't define us. And we certainly don't have to prove ourselves worthy to have one. You can buy one on the streets of Coruscant, if you really wanted one. It's just technology, nothing more. But that's not going to be what Draiya thinks, now, I'll bet."

[Abarai Loki]

"I should hope not." He tossed the lightsaber back to Hal, and folded his arms, "Did you expect a speech? I am done explaining myself."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal caught the saber deftly, eyes never leaving Loki. "Of course I don't expect a damn speech!" he snapped. "I was just trying to look at what happened from another angle; give you different insight. That's it! I didn't even want to talk about this, on this trip, but, it came up, so there it is! Damn it, Loki, I thought maybe, just maybe, for all my faults, perhaps something I said might be able to help make you a better man!"

[Abarai Loki]

“What is it you want from me, Hal?” Loki asked in earnest, “Do you want me to concede your point? Do you want me to change my ways? What do I have to do to have a regular conversation with someone?”

His hands were open, poised, ready to snatch the answer out of thin air. It was a question he sensed he was going to revisit, time and again, once he returned to Sanctuary One. Amongst Jedi, there was never a shortage of opinion; there were sanctimonious platitudes lurking around every corner. And, until recently, he, despite his youth and relative inexperience, had been a chief perpetrator. The teenage dispenser of wisdom. How intolerable he must’ve been, all that time. In Hal, he had sought refuge from the glaring light of his own transgression, and the judgement that came with it. It had been presumptuous of him to think that Halajiin Rabeak would be willing to temporarily shelve his own Jedi sensibilities, on his account.

He sat upright, attentive, and tense. It was a struggle to keep his voice even, to maintain eye contact, more so, while he attempted to sculpt his feelings into something intelligible.

“I do not agree with you. On this, I will not agree with you. I cannot agree with you. And yet, I have no desire to challenge your views, Hal. I do not want to debate the principles of the Jedi Order, or the importance of a lightsaber, or that infantile Code. I just want…"

Words failing him, he dropped his hands with a sigh of defeat.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's own arms fell slack to his sides, lightsaber loosely gripped in his right paw, and he shifted his weight to one leg as he stood. "Want what?" he asked.

He could feel Loki's turmoil. It rolled off him in chaotic, crashing waves through the Force, hitting all around with violent spray. Hal waited for a reply, but as none seemed to be forthcoming, he elaborated. "You've spent your whole life doing what others have told you to, and trying to be their model of perfection, but... deep down I know that's not you. What do you want?"

[Abarai Loki]

"I don't know!" he scoffed, as if the question, and all of its implications, were but a nuisance to be swatted. Then, with uncertainty, he said, "Something different."

When Hal insinuated that he was not what he seemed to be, not the person he had dedicated his whole life to becoming, Loki had scowled silent objections. What did it say of the years of struggle that forged him into the Jedi he was that very day? If indeed that's what he was - other opinions were available. In truth, the mongoose Jedi had given a voice to the very thoughts that haunted him, skulking in the shadows of his doubts. His eyes found his feet, and there, lingered.

"How can I be something other than... than this?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"You just..." Hal shrugged, "do what you feel."

Slipping his saber back into its holster along his back the Nehantite paced around their campfire and took a seat once more. The plastic bag crinkled as he withdrew another candy fish - yellow, this time - and he deftly bit off its tail.

"That's what I do. I mean, yeah, there's things I'm supposed to do, and I try and do them, but the rest of the time, I do what I want. That's how I figure out what I even want, in the first place. You need to relax, unwind, and just be you. The real you, inside." Another bite took off more of its tail, and Hal nodded. "That's kind of why I suggested we go find this thing, whatever it is. Wanted to give you a sort of vacation. Just be two guys out on an adventure, not Jedi for a week or so. Just... friends."

[Abarai Loki]

"I have never had a vacation. On Ando, people on vacation lounged in the sun all day, eating and drinking, and not much else. It looked boring.”

The memory of that awkward trip to the beach bobbed to the surface of his thoughts like a bloated corpse. He hated sand. And the idea of him sprawled out on a towel, bronze and glistening, and sticky from some unmentionable sugary confection, it sent shudders to his core. That was most definitely not him. But, what was? He considered Hal’s advice: if he were to simply do as he felt, he’d keep going and never look back. In the moment, that was the truth of it. He wasn’t nearly as surprised or as concerned by the revelation as he thought he would’ve been; it was, in fact, quite a liberating feeling.

“I wanted something different,” he conceded, with a sigh, “And I do enjoy being outdoors like this, away from everything. I can see why you kept your distance.”

From his pocket, he retrieved the ration bar. It was unwrapped and tossed at the fire, only to stop, and hover above the flames, turning slowly. He watched it bubble and brown with distaste.

“If it already tastes like poodoo, it might as well be toasted poodoo.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's nose wrinkled and scrunched up as the acrid smell of congealed protein powders, vitamin dust, and all manner of synthetic, yet edible, roasting over a fire reached him. "Ugh, just be glad you've only got a human's sense of smell and taste," he pulled a face. "I can guarantee those things taste way worse to me than they do to you."

But, as foul as they were, Hal had little other option, himself. Candy wasn't a meal, and it needed to last the duration of their trip, so back into his pack it went, replaced by his own ration bar. "Why we can't get the flavored ones, I have no idea," he mutterd, tearing open the silvery foil. "They make these with a curry flavor, you know. And a hearty stew flavor. There's even some that are supposed to taste like roasted fish. But us? The Jedi? We get... old boot." He then took a bite, face screwing up before he reached up to hold his nose in order to dull the atrocious flavor.

"We are so finding some meat, tomorrow..." he grumbled once he'd swallowed.

[Abarai Loki]

Learn to walk before you run, the old saying went. Similarly, in the wilderness, before one can eat meat, one must first learn to shoot a really loud gun.

The morning broke with a thunderous crack that emptied the treetops of a hundred angry amberbeaks. They passed overhead, a cloud of emerald green, squawking objections at the inconsiderate Jedi below. Loki gaped at the flock, still stunned from the blast, which continued to roll and rumble amongst the mountains. He watched Hal rise from the grass, and dust himself off, but his gaze lingered longest on the rifle in his hands. There were better ways to express himself, he was sure; to articulate his curiosity, and his longing, and his strange and insatiable need to put holes in some wood a hundred yards away, but at the time, manners failed him:

“I want a go.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

From his position laying prone on the grass, rifle supported on a bit of fallen log, Hal had no difficulty punching a bullseye directly in the slab of wood he'd set up as one of their targets. Setting the safety on, he stood, and smirked before passing the rifle to Loki.

"And, you shall have a go," he nodded. "We're going to start from the prone position, so, lay down like I was, and get the rifle set to your shoulder."

Once Loki was down, Hal knelt beside him, guiding his hands into the right places for best control. "Now, get a good sight on the target. No fancy holo-sights, here, or vibration dampers, this is purely manual control. We're at about a hundred yards, so your aim point should be dead on to the bullseye. Got it?" He received a nod. "Good. Next, we're going to extract the spent shell, and chamber a new one. With your right hand. lift up on that bolt handle and draw it back rather quickly, that'll pop out the shell from the round I shot."

The bolt action of the Ysanna rifle was perfectly smooth and crisp, spring-assisted on the open, as it was a cock-on-close mechanism, allowing the spent brass to eject cleanly. "Good. Now, push the bolt back forward and lock it down. That feeds your next round in," Hal explained. The rifle was live, ready to fire, and so he leaned back, eyeing the target with his right eye, his left covered behind a black eyepatch.

"When you're ready, move your finger to the trigger. Pull it smoothly, it'll hesitate at the sear, right before it'll fire. Hold it there, and when you're set to take your shot, exhale, then pull the rest of the way. Use your shoulder and your left hand to steady the rifle so that it doesn't move when you pull the trigger."

[Abarai Loki]

The rifle was heavier than he expected, but there was a comfort in its weight. After some wriggling, he found the sweet spot where the butt seemed to mould itself to the contours of his shoulder. The stock was smooth and cool against his cheek; on the wood, there was a rich smell he didn’t recognise. It came naturally to him, positioning himself on the ground to take fire, elbows propped up on the dirt, the familiar locking muscles, and the press of earth against his chest. He was transported worlds away.

Hal’s instructions looped in his head, while he squinted down the length of the barrel, attempting to line-up the intricate sights. That part was the most challenging, and time-consuming, and more than once, he was forced to readjust himself for comfort. Once he was ready, he teased the trigger, slowly, slowly, until there was hint of resistance. His cheek was getting clammy. A soft breath, and he fired.

To his surprise, the rifle came alive in his hands, and gave a violent jolt. It struck like a wampa fist, and, despite the telling plume of dust that rose above the target, he failed to suppress a smile. That, he liked. Even the click of the bolt and the ping of the shell were as music to his ears.

“That was like no blaster I have ever fired.”

He was already lining up his second shot.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal chuckled, nodding. "Yeah, they take a bit of getting used to," he replied. "You were high left, make sure that V-notch has the blade of the front sight dead center, and don't pull the gun when you're squeezing the trigger. Think that's what you may have done, there."

[Abarai Loki]

“Okay.”

Loki was too busy putting Hal’s instructions into practice to actively discuss them. He took him at his word, and agonised over the alignment of the iron sights, until his arms started to feel stiff. Again, he feathered the trigger, ready. He exhaled slowly, then fired.

“Skrag!” he hissed, not at the pain of another kick from the rifle, but at the mocking cloud of dust beside the target. “I had that target dead in my sights. No wonder these things are obsolete!”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"They're not obsolete," Hal spoke sharply. "They just require a level of finesse beyond that of your average compensated blaster. Here."

Reaching down, he pulled the rifle from Loki's hands, then stood. With lightning-quick action, Hal worked the bolt, ejecting the spent cartrige and slamming a new round into the chamber, then shouldered the rifle and cracked off a quick shot. The rightmost of the three wooden targets splintered near the center, but Hal did not pause. No sooner had he fired his first shot, he was manipulating the bolt again, and fired a second, coming within three inches of the next bullseye, and repeated on the third, all three shots taking just over two seconds, in total.

Clearing the chamber, and leaving the bolt open, the Nehantite's face was firm as he surveyed his three impacts. "Nothing wrong with the sights. In fact..." Hal didn't complete his sentence, instead racking another round and shouldering the long gun again, aiming up and well beyond his row of targets.

The crack of the rifle's report echoed with the unsubtle squawk of an amberbeak as one exploded in a burst of feathers some four hundred yards away, having just taken flight from a low limb. "Breakfast," Hal smiled.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki watched the speck of bird in spinning free fall, when it vanished into the underbrush, he cast Hal a sideways glance, “Nobody likes a show-off, Rabeak.”


####

Amberbeaks were larger than he imagined, and chewier than he had hoped. Still, a hot meal was a hot meal, and a welcome one, considering the chill in the air. It seemed that, unlike the day previous, he and his travelling companion were to continue their trek through the untamed wilderness under a boring grey sky. What a difference a day makes.

He hunkered close to the fire, where the glistening carcass hissed and spat above the flames. From his bowl, he plucked a piece of shredded amberbeak and studied it with regret, “If only we had some kind of sauce. Pancakes, too.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Across from him, Hal sat on his backside, legs crossed before the fire, a bowl of roasted amberbeak in his lap as he turned the spit once more. "Well, we did rather pack in a hurry," he said with a shrug. "Could always have a ration bar, instead."

He quickly dodged the small stone hurled his way as he laughed. "The Ysanna can accurately hit a target at over fifteen hundred yards, and can curve their bullets, using the Force. I'm not as good as they are, but it's along the lines of some of the tricks I picked up back in the day. Next time you shoot, focus on the path of the projectile, and try and correct its course. It's sort of cheating, at short range, but hey, if it gets us food, it's all good."

The rest of breakfast was taken mostly in silence, and while Loki broke down the tent, Hal stripped what useful meat he could from the bird, sealing it in airtight plastic bags. While not an especially delicous meal, both would take to it sooner than a ration bar, any day, and with luck it might be able to be seasoned for lunch or dinner with herbs, berries or edible mushrooms they might find along their journey. That is, if Hal could remember which mushrooms were not poisonous to humans. His own stomach could handle things that would make Loki quite ill, and a vomitous teenager would make for a most unpleasant traveling companion.

<center><b>######</b></center>

By noon, the gray skies overhead had not changed, the glare of the clouds filtering down through the trees in a muted manner which pleased Hal's sensitive left eye. The pair continued their trek, mostly in silence as there seemed little to say on such a morning. But silence bothered Hal, and being a terribly social being, he could not abide it much longer. So, from his mouth came the very thing he knew bothered his companion like no other, but Hal could not resist.

"You ever had a girlfriend, Loki?" he asked. "I remember my first girlfriend. We were both twelve, and, needless to say it didn't last long. Didn't actually get a serious relationship until I was thirteen. Serona, her name was. Fur was so pale blonde, she almost looked white. And her tail was so graceful and... mmf! That booty!"

[Abarai Loki]

It had been only a matter of time, Loki knew, before the flavour of conversation became more fruity. This was Halajiin Rabeak, after all, who thrived on the sordid and depraved. And, as comfortable as the mongoose Jedi was in talking about such things, Loki found himself, in equal measure, ill at ease. And Hal knew it, the bastard.

So Loki trudged on, eyes fixed on the stones, and the dirt, and the grass that passed underfoot, while his friend reminisced about his first love with trademark shamelessness. Despite his best efforts to play it cool, he felt his face flush from a heat that had nothing to do with their cross-country hike. His mind raced in a blind panic, seeking out a safe haven amongst his accumulated knowledge and experience of sixteen years, in desperate need of a response that didn't make him sound foolish. But, when it came to matters of romance and sex, his own experience was nonexistent. There was something inherently shameful about that - he wasn't sure why.

Content to keep the conversation on Hal for as long as possible, he said, "How did you meet Serona? Where you... together for long?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"We met at school," Hal replied, not hesitating even so much as a moment. "It was Junior High. She was second class, and I was third, but we went to the same school because of district lines and the like. Every boy wanted to be with her, and I had to compete to show her I was the guy to have. Sports, smarts, money, everyone had their own angle, but I was the only one who could make her laugh."

Despite the uneven terrain, there developed a spring in the Nehantite's step which had not been there before. "Oh, of course he dad didn't approve. Lower-class kid like me, no money, no future? Certainly not right for his daughter. But, I think she might have went out with me partly because her dad didn't approve. Every penny of what I could earn I spent on her. And condoms, naturally. Sure, we had fun, but.... sending her home to daddy with one in the oven? I'd have been shot, for sure. Sadly it all ended when her parents pulled her out of public school and put her in a private one, instead. Broke my heart, but I met my next girlfriend two days later. I wasn't her first rodeo, if you know what I mean, but I didn't care. When you're getting it, you don't complain. That's rule number one. Bad sex is better than no sex, no matter what; trust me."

[Abarai Loki]

“I see.”

There wasn’t much else to be said. Hal had, quite willingly, said it all. Where, once, Loki would’ve recoiled from the myriad details of his friend’s extracurricular exploits, he drank it all in as if he expected to be tested on it. Discussions of this sort often felt like a pop quiz, full of questions to which he scarcely had any answers, especially when in the company of the most notorious sex-hound on the planet. In many ways, Hal was his personal cheat sheet when it came to the subject of intimate relations, so long as he could keep him talking. There were times, however, when he found himself struck dumb by a fresh deluge of debauchery. This was such a time.

Together, they bounded down an uneven slope, winding between large boulders. Despite the distance travelled and the weight upon his back, Loki was quite comfortable, buffeted, as he was, by cool winds that rippled his clothes and kept him pleasantly ventilated. In the swaying treetops, he spotted congregations of fat lime-green frogs, belching in chorus with each other. Their young, some of which hung and swayed from branches on long ropes of tongue, were painted in bright yellows and blues. Loki had heard of the tree frogs, but he’d never before seen one, let alone a whole family.

“Do you think you will ever… settle down?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal shifted the weighty rifle from paw to paw, its movements seeming a mirror of his tail's own direction as he used both to keep balance during his descent. Landing with an audible "Nnf!" from his final drop onto more level ground, the mongoose then stood and cricked his back, paying the tree frogs little heed as they played their part of natural flypaper amongst the branches.

"Settle down?" The question caused him to raise an eyebrow as if the concept was foreign to him. "Er, well, maybe someday," he carried on. "But that'd likely mean going back to Nehantish, and I don't think I'm ready for that, yet. If I go back, I might be tempted to stay, and then what sort of Jedi would I be?"

Slinging the rifle back over his shoulder, he set forth with a brisk pace. "No, out of my time or not, I'm needed here. For some reason or another, Garfife has brought me to Ossus, and I feel it's to help train the next generation, with my experience from ones before. The Order may not be what I imagined it should be, by now, but that doesn't mean I'm not still part of it. Unorthodox or not, I'm still a Jedi, and I have a duty to my brothers and sisters before I can concern myself with a proper mate."

[Abarai Loki]

“You sound like me,” Loki noted, with a swift amendment, “Minus the mate part.”

Loyalty to the Jedi; a duty to teach; sacrifice of the self in favour of others; these were ideals that once sprang freely from his lips like a declaration of faith. When he and Halajiin Rabeak first crossed paths, Hal embodied a deviation from those values, as he understood them. How often they had clashed, hurling lectures at each other from opposite sides of a vast idealistic gulf. How times had changed. In Hal, he heard himself, and, in himself, he sensed Hal’s spirit of independence kindling with every step he took. Somewhere, on their journey across stars and worlds, the gulf had been bridged, and they were approaching the middle.

“Do you ever wonder what you would be, if you weren’t a Jedi?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The question erned a snort of comical derision from the mongoose. "Oooh, no, I don't wonder at all," Hal laughed. "First, I'd be dead a long time ago. Second, I would have had the thrilling life of a heating and air conditioning repairman."

His voice dripped with sarcasm, and he continued. "I would have been married by nineteen or twenty, probably be a dad shortly after that. Probably three, maybe four kids. Biggest things to look forward to would be league night at the bowling alley, or a good cricket match. Retire when I was 65, live off my meager savings, and generally be nobody important at all. I can guarantee that is what would have happened to me, if I hadn't been sent to the Order."

He very nearly ended there, but part of him couldn't resist slipping one more detail out. "Though, if what happened a few days before I got frozen was any indication, I could have been a hell of a porn star."

[Abarai Loki]

“That sounds like a truly dull existence. The repairman thing, not the porn star… thing. Not that I think being a porn star wouldn’t be dull, of course, or interesting, for that matter. You cannot compare them, really. Like berries and namanas.”

His rambling was punctuated by a stiff, pink-faced nod. Hal’s last startling revelation had derailed his train of thought entirely, and Loki was left to march onwards in awkward silence. They were on the ascent again, having cleared the treeline, towards a tenuous mountain pass. There were enough hours of daylight ahead to clear the mountains and find a suitable camp site. And, though, courtesy of Hal’s careful orienteering, there had been no sign of an Ysanna patrol, Loki didn’t like the idea of being stranded on the exposed mountain slopes, in the dark, with no refuge from the sharpshooter’s sights.

Once the shame of his undignified waffling had abated, Loki reconsidered Hal’s words, and the certainty with which he’d predicted his own fate, had it not been for the Jedi. What a depressing thought: to be condemned to such a mundane and predictable life. If Hal could be so bleakly sure of his own theoretical fate, what would he, in his experience, think of Loki’s potential beyond the Jedi? He cast an inquisitive glance over his shoulder.

“And what of me? What does a person like me do, when they’re not a Jedi Knight?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Once out of the trees and into the glare of an overcast sky, Hal slipped his eyepatch from his pocket and pulled it on, fitting it comfortably over his left eye. Running a paw through his headfur to smooth it out over the band, he doubled his pace to catch up with Loki, who had not chosen to wait for hin.

"You?" the Nehantite asked, then pulled a face. "You can do anything you want. You're human. You can basically go anywhere and run the show. Nobody questions you, and it's expected you'll have some sort of authority, wherever you go," he replied. "You in particular? Gar, you can really do anything. You know how to pilot a ship, so you could easily be a pilot. Great with logic, so you could ace it in business. You've got Alliance ties, already, so you could shoot up military ranks. Damn, Loki, you could do anything you put your mind to, no problem."

[Abarai Loki]

“You overestimate my piloting skills, Hal.”

It was a soft deflection at what had felt like effusive praise. Loki did not share Hal’s conviction, but that did not stop a telling tug at the corners of his mouth, once he turned away. The piloting and the Alliance ties were both, of course, a byproduct of his affiliation with the Jedi, but, in truth, Loki was not concerned so much with what might have been, but, rather, with what may be. His friend’s belief in him left him feeling buoyed, and put extra length in his strides.

“It is true, I would make a good soldier,” he conceded, at last, “And there are good people in the Alliance military. People like Cirrsseeto.”

His musings were swept aside with a heavy sigh, and Loki approached the discussion anew, “Next question: if you could be anything, other than a Jedi, what would you be?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Holomovie star," Hal replied immediately. The curt nod which accompanied it indicated he had thought about such a possibility for some time. "Just think about it: fame, fortune, not having to do much actual work, having people to do most of your errands for you? It's the dream. That, and I'd get to make people happy. Yeah, could totally see myself as a big-time actor. Not to mention I've already got the bad-boy movie star abs."

There was no hesitation as he pulled up his shirt to reveal his toned abdomen. Despite his love of candy, the Nehantite still found time and ways to keep himself in shape. Letting the garment fall, he smiled, clearly lost in his own daydream, as he so often was. "Then I could have fancy speeders, a big house with a pool, maids, butlers, cooks... everything I never had as a kid. That would totally be the life for me."

[Abarai Loki]

“I, too, grew up without such things. I cannot say I have ever craved them.”

It would have been more accurate to say he had never before considered what it would be like to have a fancy speeder, or a big house, or a pool, or maids, like the ones in holos, with short revealing dresses, stockings, and- But holomovies weren’t real life, and not just anyone could be a holomovie star, surely. That required a great deal of responsibility, and training, and bad-boy movie star abs. Absently, Loki prodded himself, and frowned. He had bad-boy movie star abs. His frown became a grimace.

“I have no talent for acting. Apparently, it is a skill wielded by actors and politicians alike. If fame and fortune are things you seek, perhaps I should introduce you to Senator Meorrrei sometime. She has a keen eye for talent, and… abs.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Meorrrei?" Hal worked his long mouth around the name. "That sounds like a Cizerack name." It wasn't accusational, more an observation made out loud. Shrugging his shoulders, Hal smiled. "Well, already been in one Ciz film, couldn't hurt to be in another."

Overhead the gray skies grew steadily darker, and Hal's fur began to become slightly frizzy due to the increase in moisture in the air. "It's going to rain," he stated, then looked up at their path ahead. "If we want to get to a decent spot to camp where we won't be in downhill wash, we're going to have to double-time it."

Up and up they climbed, not exactly double-time, but at least at an accelerated pace. Onward and upward he led them, until they reached a ledge where he paused. "This is the farthest south I've been from the main camp. I don't know what all we're going to find beyond here."

What they found was more rock, and a ridge more treacherous than they had first appraised. Reduced to going in single file, Hal took point, knowing that if he should fall, his pack would make a suitable harness by which he could lift himself using the Force, before he tumbled like a boulder into Loki behind him. It was grueling work, and there seemed no better path around, other than to backtrack their whole day's effort and attempt another path anew. Stubborn and bull-headed, Hal carried on, though he swore profusely as the first drops of rain began to fall, followed shortly by a torrential downpour from the blackened skies above. In a matter of minutes, he felt himself soaked through, fur and all, and they still had some ways to go before they would find a save place to set up camp and get out of the wet.

[Abarai Loki]

Clamped to the side of a mountain, in the middle of such a ferocious deluge of rain, Loki had never felt so small. He sidled along in Hal’s wake, testing the slick rock with every step, and digging his nails into every crevice until his fingers hurt. Boiling clouds blacked out the sky, and the wild and rolling landscape vanished behind a curtain of grey. His hair was plastered to his face, his vision was blurred with water, and his drenched clothing weighed about as heavy as his pack. Below, a perilous drop, and, underfoot, stone as treacherous as ice. It was fantastic.

“You must look on the positive side, Halajiin Rabeak,” he shouted, with a glossy grin, “We no longer need a bath!”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Oh, shut up!" Hal snapped back, clearly ill-tempered due to the rain. His blunt claws fought for grip in places, until at last he gave up trying the old-fashioned way, buckled the waist and chest straps from his back about himself, and focused his energy.

As if he were a fish plucked from a river by some great raptor, Hal flew up from the rocks, hefted by the harness of his pack, through the Force, and deposited himself upon a ledge he had been aiming for, coming to land on all fours. Bringing himself up to a stand, he turned back and reached out his right paw, finding Loki's pack, and belt, and used them to lift his companion much as he had lifted himself. With a wave of his paw, he yanked the young man up and forward to join him, making no apologies about "cheating" their way up a difficult bit.

"I hate being wet," he growled through clenched jaws, before starting to hike an easier path toward the summit of the ridge. "Should have brought a damn umbrella..."

[Abarai Loki]

His sudden ascent had been an unnerving experience: when the ground fell away from him, Loki’s feet kicked feebly at the air, and he held onto his harness like his life depended on it - which, in a very literal way, it did. And, as he flew, he had the very distinct impression of falling, at least in the pit of his stomach. If being battered by a storm on a mountain hadn’t provided Loki with sufficient exhilaration, his gravity-defying shortcut certainly had. Once he landed, all thoughts of objection were dashed by the sheer relief of having solid ground underfoot.

“Next time, a warning would not go amiss.”

The climb, thereafter, was less punishing. They marched side by side, over loose rock and sucking earth, breaking their silence only to offer instruction or warning where the path was dangerous. Hal was a tragic sight, in his shorts and shirt, with his wet fur glued to his body. And his mood reflected his appearance. Loki tried not to see the amusing side of their predicament, he really did, but it was just so plainly obvious to him. But he knew when to keep his mouth shut.

For a while, it seemed like they were never going to find anywhere suitable to make camp. Often, the path doubled back on itself, granting them little progress at all; other times, the climb was so steep, and the walls so sheer, that the mountain wept in rivers and waterfalls. Once, when Loki lost his footing amongst the froth and slipped, he joined Hal, for the first time, in his curses.

When the climb became gentle, and the end was in sight, both Jedi found a last reserve of energy to drive them up the winding slope towards the summit. They ran, squelching all the way, until the jagged rocks smoothed themselves into a broad accommodating crown. Loki wasted no time in removing his pack, and unfurling the tent.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

There would be no fire, but Hal did not complain as he watched his companion prepare the tent. Up it went, almost as if by magic, leaving him slack-jawed in the rain, until the last cable fired itself into the ground. Then his face became stony, and he grumbled, "Next time I'll put up the tent, and you get the firewood."

Within moments they were inside, though curiously Hal carried in an armload of stones with him, dumping them in a pile in the middle of the tent floor. His pack, the rifle, and his boots joined the stones, albeit sstowed in a corner as he dug out his lightsaber, setting it by the stones. Over his head was wrenched his sopping tee shirt, and he shucked off his shorts, taking a moment to wring out his soaked clothes outside the door of the tent before draping them over his pack and boots as best he could to let them dry, leaving himself in only a pair of blue and white striped boxer shorts.

"I hope this trick still works," he growled, water still dripping off of his wet fur as he ignited the red blade of his lightsaber carefully, then eased its point into a large stone on top of the pile. Hole after hole was made, not going through the rock, but making it glow red hot and melt in small pockets, until it acted a bit like an indoor campfire. Blade extinguished, he tossed his saber aside so he could kneel before the radiant stone, rubbing his paws near it to let its heat dry them slowly. "I hated Dagobah," he continued to grumble. "It was wet, it was nasty, it was humid, and the nights were cold. Learned this little trick to keep warm, at night. And to dry off. Bloody stupid rain..."

[Abarai Loki]

“That is a clever trick.”

Loki hunkered close to the small mound of stones and reached out, as if he could grasp the humble heat in his hands. When he’d shed his clothes, he had also shed much of his good humour, and by the time he joined Hal, he had been reduced to a shivering ball of glistening wet skin. His arms were rigid, and welded to his ribs; his skin was so cold, it felt ablaze. Just beyond the molten glow of the makeshift campfire, he watched his glossy-furred companion, grumbling in the gloom. When Loki spoke, his words were diced by chattering teeth.

“There is a towel in my pack. You need it more than I do. I would retrieve it, myself, but I have no intention of moving.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

A second bore was run into the largest stone. doubling its heat output before Hal felt it adequate to be beneficial instead of just being a tease. At Loki's words, he nodded, and carefully rooted through his companion's pack. When at last his paws found the soft, warm, fluffy rectangle of terrycloth goodness, he pulled it free, and unfurled it to reveal its full, water-wicking majesty.

But, rather than vigorously rub himself down with it, he wrapped it about Loki's shoulders like a form of blanket, before taking a seat on the opposite side of the "campfire."

"Fur traps heat, even when wet. I'll be fine; you're the one who's shivering," he nodded. He then reached back for his pack, drawing it near so that he could pull out the bag of amberbeak meat he'd saved, and he placed it on one of the stones near the glowing, semi-molten stone to warm. Then, reaching back into his bag, he withdrew a bottle of something clear, and he unscrewed the cap before taking a short swig, followed by a sharp, yet contented sigh. "Mmm, meanwhile this'll warm me up in a hurry," he grinned, then extended the bottle to Loki. "Care for some?"

It was a bit of an awkward proposition, offering a young man gin, especially while both were sitting in a most remote location, each dressed only in their undershorts, but for once Halajiin Rabeak's mind was not in the gutter.

[Abarai Loki]

“There is a Jedi meditation technique that raises your core temperature. I will show you… once I regain control of my extremities.”

The towel was pulled tightly over his shoulders to prevent it falling. He reached out and took the bottle of clear liquid. It was, in all likelihood, something alcoholic. Loki had never drank alcohol before: a Jedi was to keep his mind clear at all times. But, soaked, as he was, on a mountain top, miles away from anywhere, he didn’t feel much like a Jedi. And, if whatever was in that bottle could indeed counteract the cold, then he didn’t much care. He gulped his first mouthful, and that was about as far as he got before he lost control of his face.

“Stars above!” he sputtered, and pitched forward in a coughing fit. His throat was on fire, he was sure of it, and his chest burned in equal measure. By the time he resurfaced, his eyes were wet, and the chattering was gone.

“What in the seven hells was that?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The laughter and look on Hal's face made it most obvious that the gin had certainly been a trap for specifically that reaction, and he he continued to laugh as he reached out to take the bottle back. Knocking back another light swig, he then spun the cap back onto the bottle.

"That, my friend, is gin," he said with a broad smile. He could already feel the alcohol warming his stomach and flowing through his veins, a happy, golden feeling spreading throughout. "It's about fifty percent alcohol or so. Had to trade some stuff at the mining camp to get it, but, it ain't bad. And on a night like this?" The Nehantite glanced up at the roof of the tent as it dimpled and bounced under the impact of fat, incessant raindrops, "It's about the most perfect thing I could think of. So glad I'm not in my place, right now. Rain on that roof is like being inside a snare drum for a drumroll that never ends."

[Abarai Loki]

He followed Hal’s gaze to the sloping roof of the tent; to his human ears, the constant patter of rain was a soothing companion. He frowned in thought, “I like it.”

With the second application of his lightsaber, Hal’s stones gave the tent a warm orange glow. Loki took comfort in his admittedly spartan surroundings, and, coupled with the dramatic improvement in his companion’s mood, he found himself feeling remarkably at ease.

“Is gin supposed to taste of anything?” he asked, from beneath a vigorously active towel, “It was like liquid fire.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The rainwater slowly wicked down Hal's body, leaving his fur spiky in many places, only to be ruffled by a paw as he helped to get fresh, warm air to replace the damp, cold spots he felt.

"Gin actually tastes like a lot of things," he nodded. "Juniper, primarily, but there's often a good dozen or so more botanicals in there, too, each giving their own unique note and flavor, beneath it all. But, I will admit, it is an acquired taste, and, heh, yeah it can burn a good bit. It's pretty strong stuff. I usually mix it with something, but... not much to mix it with, out here. Still, helps warm you up, and takes the edge off."

He arranged strips of amberbeak meat on some of the flatter stones surrounding the big, glowing one, to warm. "And, uh... sorry about the lift, earlier. I was frustrated, and just wanted to make it to the top. I should have said something."

[Abarai Loki]

“I will not deny I’d prefer not to defy gravity, however, there is something to be said for a timely shortcut.”

In truth, if Hal had not flew them up the mountainside when he did, they would, in all likelihood, have still been clinging to the stone, being beaten by the rain. Not that Loki would’ve minded, at least not at the time. The wild exhilaration he’d felt had since subsided, and had been replaced by a strange sense of satisfaction, it had a glow to it, that feeling, and it spread to his fingers and toes. As his body thawed, he considered, and not for the first time, a question that had been asked of him earlier in the day. They were thoughts that danced on the precipice of a deep and sordid abyss. Following an uncommon silence, he took his thoughts, leashed them, and dressed them up in finery. Shortly, his thoughts became words.

“When you were a padawan, training at the Jedi Temple, did you… have a girlfriend?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The Nehantite bit his lower lip, chewing it a bit as he ran his right paw through his fur, ruffling it to help speed the drying process. Typically it would be the crackle of a campfire that filled any silence, or at least the hum of a small heater, but with their source of warmth being a partially molten rock, there was no sound other than the incessant dumming of fat raindrops upon their soft roof.

"Not... really," he answered at last. Hal's typical, effervescent joy when talking about his live life faded, and he poked at the amberbeak meat as there was no actual fire to stir. "First off, none of the female padawans liked me much, because I was so far behind everyone else in training when I arrived. Second, it was typically frowned upon to be in a relationship while in the Order, in those days. So, I didn't have a girlfriend. Instead I'd just go out to local clubs I could talk my way into and dance with whoever I could, or I'd hotwire a speeder and see who I could pick up for a few hours. Flings, one night stands. Soon it didn't even matter to me what gender they were. I was a horny teen, getting it however I could.

"Sure, my master didn't like it much, and I got chastised often for being far to sexually free, but... I couldn't help it, it seemed. It was my rebellion, in a way, and, to be quite frank, as much as I hate getting treated like an animal, my race is far closer to it than most. We've only been civilized for a few thousand years, as far as we know, and it's almost impossible to defy our urges without the aid of medication. And even after I was put on that medication, it was a bit late, and I was too used to being sexually active almost nightly. But it's not the same as having a girlfriend. Or boyfriend, if you're into that, too. It's fleeting, and when it's gone, you feel empty, and lonely, so you just go out and look for another fix, of sorts."

[Abarai Loki]

“You liken your sexually active lifestyle to a form of addiction. That is not a healthy way to live.”

Loki sank in disappointment. It seemed the more he learned, the less he understood. Perhaps he had been right in his assumptions all along: sex was anathema to the Jedi way of life. A fulfilling experience, provided there was a degree of attachment involved, without which, the lure of physical pleasure enslaved, like a drug. And, on the matter of attachment, he’d made up his mind long ago. The idea of a life of self-imposed chastity cast a bleak shadow over the future. But what other option did he have?

“You mentioned it was possible to control sexual urges with medication. How?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Um, well, not all our urges," Hal replied. "Just a very specific one."

Leaning back, the Nehantite reached for his pack and withdrew his own towel. Working it over his head, then his chest and arms, he continued. "Like I said, in some ways, we Nehantites are more animal than man. One way in particular is that we have a... mating season. Specifically the males do."

Hal's typical level of ease in discussing taboo subjects slowly began to fade, as if his confidence was being steamed away like the seal of an envelope over a boiling kettle. "Every year, in spring, sexually mature males get an urge, a literally uncontrollable urge to mate. It happens within a range of six weeks, and yours is the same week every year. In your week, you have to mate. It's the only thought on your mind, and you really can't do much of anything else but focus on it, and try to mate with anyone you can. We've developed a drug, CC30, that can block that chemical impulse, however. Well, delay is more accurate."

He let the towel ruffle the fur of his back, before giving his tail a quick once-over. "It delays it for 30 days, hence the number in the name. If you don't take more CC30, your mating season impulse kicks in as it wears off. You can take it for up to five years straight, before it's physically dangerous to put it off any longer. Then, you either find a female to help you out, or... other males.

"CC30 used to be free, given to any who went off-world, so that our shameful annual affliction wouldn't be known. But we nearly wiped out the plants we need to make it from, and since then it's no longer free, and it's not cheap. Many do take it, afforded often by their employer's health care plan, but the poor, or independent, can't often afford it. So... 'relief centers' were set up. Well, more like re-established. They'd existed for most of our history for those males who did not have a mate, or could not afford a week in a brothel. Males go there, we strip, are inspected and checked for diseases. Some diseases are sorted by group, others more severe get a sort of... isolation, while the general populace of attending males at the center is sent into a main area, and... you shag each others' brains out for a week, until your season wears off."

The yellow-furred Nehantite went quiet, then, staring at the glowing stone, wishing it were hypnotic dancing flames, or glittering embers he could lose himself in, but instead it was only a rock with a molten core, slowly cooling. It had been made clear to Loki that Hal was not of a family with money, and so the likelihood that his family could afford CC30 was rather a given no. When at last he spoke again, it came with a pained sigh. "When you're done, you don't know how many males you've had, or how many have had you, and the shame is incredible. To have been a man, then reduced to an animal operating solely on lust with other males, only to have your sentience returned to you, naked and in the company of so many others... others you know were only willing to be with you because they too had been turned into an animal, it is reprehensible. Every time, it is reprehensible. No connection, no love, no joy. Only animal lust," he spat.

[Abarai Loki]

“That… that’s terrible!”

Loki, in a state of acute shock, could manage only a fleeting glance at Hal, before he resumed his ferocious grimace. Beyond the angry glow of molten rock, he saw the long grey rooms, and the procession of naked Nehantites being herded like livestock to be inspected, catalogued, and cleaned; one last indignity before the senseless scrum. It drew to mind the horrors of slavery or even the gross efficiency of Imperial genocide, the way free and healthy men could be reduced to the status of common animals. Hal had the right of it in his undressed language. And it confirmed, for Loki, the very worst of his fears.

He clung to his towel, and pulled it tight around his shoulders. Was that a chill in the air, or was it just in him? What colour had been left drained from his face.

“Hal, can humans take this medicine?” He braved another look, “I… think I’m in season.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

It was with glacial slowness that Halajiin Rabeak's left eyebrow raised, his pink eyes fixed upon the young man before him. Lips parting, starting to curl in confusion as he felt his head begin to tilt to one side, Hal's curiosity overtook him momentarily before it was thrown out by a sudden realization.

"Bwa ha ha ha ha!" The Nehanite erupted in laughter, head thrown back so hard as he bellowed his raucous chorus of hilarity that he tumbled back upon the tent floor, shaking with laughter as tears threatened to dampen the corners of his eyes again. There he had been, baring a fact about him he would divulge to only a precious few, and Loki had entirely misunderstood it.

Well, not perhaps entirely, but still.

Pushing himself back up, Hal almost cried as he laughed, his shoulders vibrating with silent laughter as he shook his head, raising a paw to stay any objection. "Y-you? In season? Ha ha ha ha ha!" he couldn't help but laugh further. At last he forced himself to come down off of the cloud of hilarity Loki's comment had raised him too, and he squeaked a sigh as he rubbed his eyes.

"Humans don't have mating season," he said, his voice still vibrating a bit, and he looked Loki up and down, grinning in disbelief while shaking his head. "You're just a teenager. You're gonna feel like that a lot. For several years. It's called being a horny teen, and there ain't no medicine for it, kid, sorry."

[Abarai Loki]

“It’s not funny, Hal!”

If he hadn’t been so alarmed, Loki might have found Hal’s reaction to his difficult confession rather mortifying. As it was, he was much too concerned with his own well-being and what he perceived to be his own dwindling sanity to care. Even now, at the back of his mind, he could feel it taunting him, a tormentor just beyond his reach. The accumulating frustration, of Hal’s failure to understand, and… everything else, set into his muscles like duracrete. And, after a pregnant beat of silence, the duracrete cracked and words surged forth in a torrent.

“Perhaps I could be first case. The symptoms are exactly as you described them: uncontrollable urges, a lack of self control, and an inability to think about anything else. I understand the nature of the libido, but this is more like a fever, and… and I feel like I’m losing my mind!”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Halajiin's outburst had settled down into the occasional giggle, and it took a significant amount of concentration for him to manage a straight face as he listened to Loki's typical, rational manner of analysis and explanation of a situation. Bare chest swelling with a deep breath, Hal sighed, forcing silly thoughts from his mind, and nodded.

"What you feel now, I also felt at your age," he replied. "Only, out of season. It's normal. It may not seem so, but the way you feel right now is totally normal for a young man of most any race. Imagine it at its worst, for you, where it's all you can do to keep control of yourself, then multiply that by fifty. That's what being in season is like, for us, okay? You're nowhere near it."

Rubbing his towel along his legs, Hal then glanced down quickly pulled the towel into a rumpled pile in his lap before clearing his throat. "If you want my perspective, you're going to need to stop fighting it, at least a little. You were raised under strict order, and you're more of a stickler for the rules of the Jedi than anyone else in this whole Order, but... that hasn't allowed you to also be a teenager. You can either keep fighting it, and let it get worse and worse until it consumes you, or, you can give in to it every now and then. Heck, if it's as bad as you're saying it is, I'm surprised you haven't disappeared every few hours or so, on this trip, to go 'blow off steam,' or however you want to refer to it."

[Abarai Loki]

“The rules - whatever they might be - do not concern me.”

When he was forced to consider the labyrinthian network of rules one might have to navigate to understand, even faintly, the official stance of the Jedi Order on such convoluted matters, there was an unmistakable hint of disdain in his voice. He was in need of answers, not riddles. And through Hal, the person with whom Loki had suffered a long and tedious history of misunderstandings, he felt that he was finally on the path to something resembling sense. He was as attentive as a patient heeding his doctor’s advice, and as he listened, he could feel the myriad knots in his stomach begin to unravel. If what he was feeling was normal, and to be expected, it occurred to him, then, that it had been very cruel for no-one to have warned him in the first place.

Of course, doubts remained, and in abundance.

“I’ve spent my whole life training to achieve discipline, focus, and self-control. These principles make up the bedrock of my identity. What does that say of me, when I lack the sovereignty over my own body to resist these urges?” His shoulders sagged under the weight of his troubles, “I’ve never been so easily beaten.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

There was emitted a most uncontrollable snort of laughter from the mongoose at Loki's particular choice of final words, and Hal attempted to force his smirk back down. Shaking his head, he took a deep breath, attempting to find the right words. With Loki, it was always about the right words, as the wrong ones - no matter how good the meaning behind them was - never went down the right way.

"You're a man of discipline, I know that," Hal nodded. "And, to be quite frank, you're what most of the lot here ought to aspire to be. You've followed your training well, and it shows, and you should be proud of that. But the thing you weren't trained in was how to also be a young man. It's difficult, and usually the role of a father to help guide you through that. I'm not going to try and pretend I could be your dad, but, maybe if you can let me be an older brother for a bit, this might make more sense, okay?"

Hal waited for a nod, and gave one of his own in return. "I'm going to answer your question with a question of my own: If you stop fighting your urges, and instead find a way to satisfy them - let's say on your own, in private - and it brings you relief, and maybe joy to do so, are you not learning more about how to control yourself through that, and does it do harm to do so?"

[Abarai Loki]

“I had never thought of it that way,” he said, after some consideration, “In the way one exercises to expend energy, one may also regulate the severity of one’s urges with, uh, wilful intervention.”

He gave a nod, satisfied with his own diplomatic turn of phrase. Discussing this sort of stuff was one thing, finding that right kind of language to use was another entirely. He took some comfort in the fact that there was little he could say that would be inappropriate, given present company. Hal had a frank and easy way of talking about the taboo that was quite disarming. The shame that Loki often attributed to such things was evaporating, and, in his newfound assuredness, he reflected on the reason he had encountered Hal in the first place. He managed a coy smile.

“This will save me another trip to Miwù Shanmà.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal blinked, suddenly feeling lost in the very conversation he had just been driving. "Wait, you... you went all the way out to Miwù Shanmà just to have a wank?"

[Abarai Loki]

Loki’s gaze blossomed like a supernova. The shock of Hal’s words stumped him for a moment, but the idea of him embarking on some sort of sordid pilgrimage to unleash his hormones upon a village of unsuspecting Gossam was so surreal that it made him snort in amusement, “What? No! That’s… no!”

He considered Hal, across the non-fire, in owlish wonderment. How mad did he think he was? A sigh expelled his disbelief. He would set things straight before any other bizarre notions sprouted from his friend’s overactive imagination.

“I was in my quarters on the Whaladon, and I was watching…” In this direction, there was a very real danger of it all going to pot, so he quickly altered course, “I run, with a full pack, to Miwù Shanmà whenever I… as an act of penance for my… moments of weakness.”

His eyebrows climbed in an expectant, but unspoken, “You know what I mean, right?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"I see," Hal nodded.

No you don't! His base natures screamed. I can tell when you're lying!

Well, I might not see *exactly*, but I think I get what he means. Hal's higher reasoning replied.

"So... every time you... enjoy your own company, you run off to the Gossam city with a full pack?" Hal asked for clarification. No reply came, so he took that as a yes, and nodded again.

"I know you like facts, so, here's one for you." Hal sat up a bit straighter, cross-legged before the fire, towel remaining in a loose pile in his lap. "Studies show that 96% of males of every race... enjoy their own company. That means 1% don't have hands, and the other 3% are liars. It's nothing to be ashamed of, Loki. It's not hurting anyone, and as long as you keep it to yourself, and to appropriate times, who cares? Quite frankly, I'd be more worried if you weren't doing it. You're a teenage boy. It's what you do. Everyone knows that."

[Abarai Loki]

“Everyone?” Loki’s mouth curled with distaste, “I cannot help but feel I missed the intel.”

If what Hal said was true, then it was as good as to be expected of him that he should indulge in some solo entertainment from time to time. As far as points of view went, that was one he could support, wholeheartedly. And, even if it wasn’t true, well, it no longer mattered - he was already scheduling, for tomorrow’s walk, his very first… call of nature. What tragedy that he was to spend the night trapped inside a tent, with no outlet for an outlet. But, just as his mood had taken flight, an all-too-familiar tautness brought him crashing back to earth. He pulled his knees into his chest.

“But what if I can’t keep it to myself?” His eyes travelled to the sealed flap at the end of their shelter. Tents trapped secrets, he told himself, “Sometimes, when I’m training an initiate, and there is a lot of bodily contact, the urge… rises. Other times, when I’m observing a contest, I cannot help but notice certain… shapes, and angles, and curves. Or, when the local troops are double-timing it back to the barracks: some are well-endowed, and there’s all this... bouncing. Even in the mess hall, my mind wanders. I can be tucking into a bowl of shaak and tuber stew and then, suddenly, I’m wondering what Draiya Naaianeya looks like out of her robes. And then it’s ten minutes before I can stand up to leave. In my dreams, Akasha Khan licks milk from my chest and has a spectacularly gifted tail. When I wake up, I half expect to find the bite marks. Serena Laran’s hands are soft, but she has a very firm grip; I expect she is a seasoned and powerful lover. I like it when she tells me to take off my shirt. And her assistant, that droid, when she shimmies out of the room, there’s a certain sway to her hips… she knows what she’s doing.”

He gave an indignant nod, then pulled his gaze away from the molten rock, to surface from the sludge of his thoughts. He took a long thoughtful breath, and sighed.

“Honestly? Expecting my penis to operate at appropriate times is like hoping for a sunset at midday.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Yeah, I can see that," Hal replied with a smirk, then nodded down to the outline making itself known in Loki's undershorts. While drawing his legs up had hidden Loki's loin from himself, it had the unfortunate effect of making it all the more visible to anyone sitting directly across from him. Like Hal.

Chuckling and shaking his head, Hal couldn't help but sneak another peek before looking away to give Loki a bit of privacy to adjust himself. "Towel in the lap hides it better, for future reference," he said with a wink. He heard shuffling, and then it stopped, so he looked back.

"Now, about the rest of that... that was what we call an 'overshare.' It's not bad to have thoughts like that, but... it might be better to keep the details to yourself. Especially about Master Serena," he cautioned, having picked up that she and Master Solomon were rather an item. "But, chest-milk-licking aside, the rest of that is fairly normal. Your curious, and your body is trying to tell you it's ready for such actions. How you control yourself, though, is rather the measure of your level of success. And I don't mean control in the sense of only learning how to keep from pitching a tent in your shorts all the time. Also, from experience, tails aren't terribly useful in bed, sorry."

It was at that time that Hal leaned forward a bit, trying to subtly adjust his own lap-towel. "I think that working one out in the morning might help alleviate some of these urges of yours, but others will simply still happen regardless. Best thing I can recommend, there, is some snug briefs. And maybe a jock strap. Anything to help keep some compression on, so even if you do... get excited, it doesn't poke straight out and get you noticed. But, heh, I know what you mean about that droid. Matea, her name is. Heh, last week she got me naked on one of her exam tables, and, well, I didn't mean to, but, I got hard, and.... her hand kinda blew up."

[Abarai Loki]

It was Loki’s turn to be utterly confused. There was a pause, as he considered what he’d just heard, and attempted to parse meaning between two seemingly disparate pieces of information. He might as well have said he wore a hat, and the forest caught fire, or he had breakfast, and the Empire surrendered. It made no sense at all, and, while Loki searched his face for any hint of a punchline, Hal remained sincere. The corner of Loki’s lips started to curl.

“Are you telling me that you blew up Matea’s hand… with the power of your erect penis?”

It came forth like a volcanic eruption: laughter, throaty and loud. He tumbled over sideways, clutching his belly, as his amusement renewed in exuberant torrents. When was the last time he’d felt like this? Had he ever felt like this?

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal raised his paws in mock defense, and couldn't help but join in the laughter. "I swear to Garfife, it must have been something like that. She had to inspect my hip, her hands were warm, and got a little close, kinda triggered me, and, well... the more she looked at it, the more her hand started to malfunction until it totally burned out. Garfife's honest truth."

He then blushed so badly that the insides of his ears went pink, and added in typical, over-the-top Hal fashion, "Typically when a woman has her hand near my groin, it's my dick that explodes, not her hand. Deeeeefinitely not a Love Droid, that Matea!"

[Abarai Loki]

Just as Loki was regaining some modicum of composure, Hal slayed him with one last vulgar blow. He wasn’t sure how long he’d been there for, sprawled on his back upon the cold tent floor, just making noise, but once he’d surfaced, and wiped the tears from his eyes, he felt good. So good, in fact, that he no longer felt quite like himself. In what world would Abarai Loki discuss sex dreams and laugh at the thought of exploding dicks and hands alike? Even now, there was a small part of him that raised objections, that grimaced at every joke, and every sordid anecdote like they were poisoned cups. But that part was so small, and irrelevant, and it was, in itself, poisonous. Let it choke on its poison, he thought.

“Thanks, Hal, for that,” he said, through the ghost of a smile. A now-sizzling piece of amberbeak was summoned to his fingertips, and he took a bite. “It’s been a long time.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal took up a piece of meat as well, tearing a bite off with his sharp teeth, ripped by one of his long canines. "No problem, dude," he replied around his mouthful. Animalistic teeth made short work of the meat, and he reached for the gin once more. "You haven't had much of a chance to enjoy your youth, I know. Figured it'd be a shame to just let it pass you by. Who cares what we find out there, let's just have an adventure."

As he lifted the bottle to his lips, a wind blew over the ridge and buffeted against the tent, threatening to flatten it, momentarily, but the lines and poles held, fighting back against the night storm just as the pair fought back against their everyday responsibilities. Taking a swig, he then went for more meat, extending the bottle to Loki.

"But after this, you're going on another adventure, aren't you?" Hal asked, his pink eyes looking straight into Loki's own as if he could see through them and read the intention beyond.

[Abarai Loki]

And, just like that, the last of his carefully guarded secrets was laid bare before them. There was silence, as Loki attempted to divine feelings from the depths of Hal’s unblinking gaze. But it seemed the opposite was true, and it was Hal who had read him like an open book. He chewed a moment longer, to consider his answer.

“I did not intend to go on a farewell tour. It just happened.”

Now was the time for a healthy swig of gin. It still burned and tasted of fire, but this time he was prepared, and did his best not to look an ass in front of his companion. Upon reflection, he found himself relieved. Having to tell Hal, his one true friend on the entire planet, that he was leaving was a conversation he’d been dreading. Well, here it was, and he owed him the truth. But first:

“How did you know?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal smiled softly, his fur seeming to glow in the slowly dimming light of the superheated stone between them. "When you spend a long time running away from something, it's not hard to spot the warning signs in someone who's about to do the same," he answered.

Extending his paw, he twitched his fingers to take back the bottle, and he took another pull. Gin and amberbeak was far from a stellar combination, but it was what they had, and he would enjoy it for what it was. "About a month ago, I saw you starting to change. You were edgy, always on guard, and driving yourself harder. It culminated in Draiya's arm, and that's when I knew you needed to get away. Few days later you up and vanish, all your gear gone. No ships were missing, and you hadn't taken your good robes, so, we knew you went somewhere on foot. Gone a long time. Typically it only takes two or three days to find yourself on a solo trip, so, it was either to the mining camp, or the Gossam. If you'd been caught by Ysanna, I would have heard about it right off, and there's not much at the mining camp you'd be interested in, so, Gossam it was, I guessed."

Another bite of meat, this time washed down with water to avoid heartburn. "And now, when you come back, you're more than willing to go on at least a week's adventure before reporting back to the Council. A week. With me. We don't exactly have the best track record for getting along over an extended period of time, so... I put two and two together: You're looking for anything that will take you away from the Order. You're trying to find out who you really are. You're growing up."

Arching an eyebrow, Hal paused. "Or did I miss the mark, there, entirely?"

[Abarai Loki]

“You make it sound noble, like a quest.”

His tone suggested it was a sentiment he did not share. There was a certain poetry to what Hal said, and a symmetry that drew all the pieces of the puzzle into a discernable whole. If only Loki could do the same with himself. Perhaps, if he explained how he felt to Hal, his mongoose friend could do it for him: he certainly seemed to have a better understanding of his young Jedi friend than Loki ever did. Apart from the fact that he was almost literally naked, before Hal’s all-seeing eyes he felt truly naked; helpless and naked, like a newborn.

“I do not have the answers. Any of them,” he confessed, somewhat ambiguously, “But I would not have you looking at it as running away. If anything, I am being repelled, like a magnet with its polarity switched. Amongst the Jedi is no longer where I belong.”


There. He’d said it. A lifelong identity cast off like a weather-beaten cloak. What a burden it must have been, for immediately thereafter, he felt lighter in his heart. Once more, the tent rocked and creaked in the wind, but it remained steadfast.

“You know why I went to Miwù Shanmà, but, on the ascent, I sprained my ankle and was welcomed into the home of one the families living there. It was my intention to return to the Jedi camp the next day, but something compelled me to stay. I learned much during my time with the Gossam, and yes, I was in equal measure seeking refuge from the tedium of Jedi life.

“The day I left the Gossam village, I decided that, whatever it was I was looking for, I would not find it buried beneath mountains of tradition and dusty Jedi robes. That was the day I met you by the lake. I do not believe in fate or the so-called Will of the Force, but I do believe I was lucky, because these last two days have finally revealed to me what it is I want: this. Something… normal.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Something normal," Hal nodded. Pursing his lips, he looked down at the glowing stone, then smirked as it was about as far from normal as it had been since it was first formed.

"I know the feeling," he then said. "When I first took my things, and a perma-tent, and set up my little refuge in the woods, you didn't get it. You thought I was being petty and childish. But I wasn't. I needed something normal, but here, there's nothing normal at all, so I made something for myself. I told myself that my tent was my home, and I busied myself with projects until they became routine. A new sort of normal. In time, I almost felt right, but I couldn't shake the memory of my past."

More water, and Hal's eyes closed. "We're opposites, you and I, but also more alike than you may realize. You grew up within the structure we both now live in. I was only perhaps a year younger than you are now, when I was introduced to it. To me, nothing of the Jedi was normal. It has always felt foreign and secondhand to me. My adventure was learning how to fit in, and be part of something greater than myself. And, just once I think I've got it down, I wake up and everyone I ever knew has been dead for decades, and my Order is a mess. Ramshackle in every sense, no discipline like you were raised in, no structure of my old Order. It's new and chaotic, like I must seem to you. It's hard to accept that this is the Jedi Order, anymore, for either of us.

"It was so hard, for me, to adjust to all this. And you sure as hell didn't make it any easier, but I don't fault you for that. I wanted something normal, and this isn't it, so I left, and I made a new normal. If I had anywhere else to go, at all, I would have gone there, but, this is literally all I have left. You, though, you can take what you've learned and make a new future for yourself. My adolescent adventure was joining the Jedi. Yours, it seems, is leaving it. And I can't fault you at all, for that.

"You need to go, explore, adventure, and test your limits while trying new things. Learn where your heart wants to go. Maybe you'll find something out there, maybe you'll come back here, some day. Who knows? But I'm glad we're taking this hike before you go. You're... basically the only friend I have, here."

[Abarai Loki]

“Come with me.”

The words spilled from his lips in an instant. For a couple of outsiders, struggling to find their place in a strange and unfamiliar galaxy, it was the obvious solution. In each other, they would have companionship, and together, they could find the answers they were looking for. Suddenly, Loki’s insides bubbled with excitement at the prospect of taking their humble adventure beyond the lakes and the trees, to the stars. Two Jedi, unbound by antiquated rules and convoluted politics, forging for themselves a new destiny. The idea left him visibly inflated, and buoyant.

“Think about it, Hal, we can go anywhere. Do anything. We can make our home wherever we go. We don’t have to do this alone.” When it seemed like his words weren’t quite being received with the same enthusiasm, he changed tactic with a wry smile, “You can get me laid like you’ve been promising for so long.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The offer was tempting. Loki had connections Hal did not. He knew ship captains, and he knew the ways of the galaxy as it existed now. It would be a grand adventure, full of excitement and daring, doing whatever they liked, with no responsibilities, and no one to answer to but each other. It seemed too good to be true, and from Hal's experience, that usually meant it was.

Silently he mulled over the invitation, glossing over Loki's last comment as he pondered the pros and cons of it all while the wind howled outside, and the rain beat upon their roof like a soft, distant drum.

"I can't," he answered. His voice was quiet, quiet as the rain, but no less enveloping in its answer, while a pit formed in his heart he had not expected. "I can't go with you, Loki. As fun as it would be, it wouldn't be right. Not at this time, anyway."

Hal could see the confusion in his friend's face, able to read the expressions of a human vastly better than most could read those of a Nehantite, and in that confusion there was a twinge of pain. "If I went with you now, it would damage us both. Something has happened, recently, and I finally feel useful, again. I've made a new purpose for myself, and I can't run away from it. If I do, I'll never stop running. For the last year, I wasn't sure who I was, anymore, but I've found it, and I need to follow it. Also, if I went with you, I'd just keep trying to turn you into me. You wouldn't find yourself, if I was there with you. Not at this time, at least."

Leaning forward, Hal let his fingers comb back through his headfur as he held his head in his paws. "This is something you have to do alone. It's new, it's scary, it's so much bigger than you'll ever imagine, but... if you look to someone else to help make your decisions now, in this, how will you find you?" Easing his head back up, the mongoose forced a smile.

"But don't get me wrong, I'm not saying no because I don't want to go. I'm saying no because for your sake, I know I can't go."

[Abarai Loki]

It became quickly apparent to Loki, as he faced the length and breadth of Hal’s response, that there would be no convincing him. Once again, Hal proved himself to be a step ahead of him in his comprehension of the unique paths they walked - for the sake of his own pride, Loki attributed his friend’s wisdom to age and experience. That he was to be deprived of such guidance in the future served only to compound his sense of loss. Still, despite his disappointment, he wasn’t about to come across soft. He still had some dignity left, after all.

“A man must make his own way,” he gave a nod, “And perhaps, one day, our paths will cross again.”

It was starting to feel like a scene from a soap opera - not that Loki made a habit of watching such drivel, but he had, on occasion, marvelled at the stratospheric heights of awfulness those holoshows managed to achieve - it was time to man-up. He cleared his throat, and reached for another strip of amberbeak.

“What will you do?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"I certainly hope they will cross, again," Hal nodded. His fingers fumbled with his piece of meat, and he mulled over how to reply. He had told the Council, already, but it wasn't uncommon for Hal to have kept secrets from them. Keeping a secret from a friend, however, was much more damaging when the truth came to light.

"A way has been found to make me useful, again," he began. "Alliance Intel came to me a few weeks back, and I went on a mission for them. It didn't go as expected, and my support and I barely made it out alive, but the information we gathered was important enough to consider the mission a success. I've been told I should expect another mission soon, this time with the Council's approval, as well."

The Nehantite sighed as he leaned back, bracing himself on one arm. "After a year or so of... doing nothing, it felt so good to be back in action, again. To have my skills put to proper use, and, well... be needed. I've also come to see that while I might be unorthodox, I know things none of the others do, and I have skills I can teach to this next generation of initiates and padawans. I have a chance to help rebuild the Jedi Order, Loki. And a chance to make some changes I always thought were necessary. I can't abandon them now. They need me, and, well... this has sort of become home."

A glum look sucked the typical joy from Halajiin's face as he admitted, "I don't think I could ever go back to Nehantish, anyway. It'd be too weird. I've even kept the Council - and Tevit - from reaching out to my old world to let them know I'm alive."

[Abarai Loki]

When the truth was revealed, about Hal’s newfound sense of purpose, Loki felt a sharp pang of jealousy. While he had been slowly losing his mind, teaching the same moves, correcting the same mistakes, and drilling the same techniques, Hal had been taken off-world on a dangerous and important mission. It left a bitter taste in his mouth, the knowledge that he, Abarai Loki, a capable and dependable Jedi, had been overlooked for such a task. Then, he felt a little disgusted with himself, and his own repulsive ego. He could fight with a lightsaber - so what? Hal’s expansive arsenal of skills made him a much more suitable candidate for… well, anything, really.

“I was fortunate enough to be trusted with the training of initiates. It was a role that kept me busy my whole time with the Jedi. It gave me a sense of purpose, even when I found myself disheartened by the larger picture, and my place in it. Without my duties to anchor me, I am adrift, and I find myself ready to set sail, as it were. You have found what I have lost. I understand.”

The second swig of gin was beginning to take its toll in a strange and wonderful way. The inferno in his chest had spread to the tips of his fingers and toes, making him feel pleasant all over. It was a kind of weightlessness that had taken over him, in his limbs and even, in his head. Absently, he probed the skin on his arms, and found it felt like the touch of somebody else, or rather, that he was not touching himself. He couldn’t be sure.

“The Alliance have gained for themselves an asset in you, Hal. And I’m pleased you have found your own sense of purpose… of home. But I don’t think you should write off Nehantish entirely.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Loki's jealousy was palpable, and it was half the reason Hal hadn't told him about his offworld adventure in the first place. The other half being that the Alliance told him to keep his mouth shut, about it.

"They found a relatively cheap, skilled merc," Hal corrected Loki's assessment of the situation. "I should have stated that they came to me directly, and bypassed the Council. I was hired for a skill set, not because they needed a Jedi specifically. Still, it's set up a possible precedent for new Jedi missions, providing the Council approves, and it'll help bring in money to build us up and make us self-sufficient."

Leaning back forwards, Hal could feel the heat of the stone penetrating his now-dried fur, warming him through. "But don't make light of your own role, here. In my day, the Jedi would never have allowed someone as young as you to train others, but you do it better than many of the masters from back then. Your committment and honor are things all of the initiates, and most of the knights and masters look up to. Don't you dare trivialize your role. Yeah, we never really got to have a true lightsaber spar, but know what? I'm kind of glad for that. Pretty sure you would have kicked by butt in a fair fight. Even if they're having you take a break from training others, it doesn't mean you're not fantastic at it. And, if you weren't leaving, I'd have been glad to spend some time with you, showing you some of what I know.

"As far as Nehantish goes, I dunno. I might go back some day, but, I'm afraid if I go now, I might never want to leave. I miss it, but it also wouldn't be the same with no one there that I know. I'd be a stranger in my own hometown. I don't know how I'd handle it, to be honest. It's best for me to be here, with the Jedi, and help them get on their feet.

"Besides," he smiled, "I wouldn't say that all your time has been spent training initiates. We did rock the hell out of Ilum, if I remember right. Make a good team, you and I."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki returned the smile, but with only half as much heart. It was easy for Hal to reflect happily on such things, now that he knew his place was with the Jedi, where he was likely to have similar adventures in the future. But, for Loki, who was walking away from all that, his memories left him cold. They were starting to feel like the memories of someone else, like he had been the vehicle, but someone else had been behind the wheel. He smiled for Hal’s sake, just as Hal had reeled off an extensive list of compliments for his. The gesture had not gone unnoticed, but in his present state of mind, it felt akin to telling a retired pod-racer that he still had it. One last lingering thought did, however, make him smile.

“It’s a miracle we haven’t murdered each other, all things considered. When we met, you and I were as compatible as oil and water. Somehow, we made it work. I think we have my remarkable patience and empathy to thank for that.”

The wicked gleam in his eyes lasted but a second, before his heavy lids closed, and he filled the tent with a mighty yawn. When he stretched, it felt like every last ounce of tension and energy was sapped from his muscles. Sleepiness wrapped itself around him like a blanket.

“What was in that gin? Lecep-” Again, he yawned. “Lecepanine?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Slumber had taken Loki into its grasp before Hal could reply, but he answered anyway.

"Alcohol."

Without the crackle and pop of a campfire, it was easy enough to hear his friend's slow, rhythmic breathing, and the Nehantite sighed, letting his own eyes close. The winds buffeted the tent, and the rain continued to fall, but neither could get in, allowing the pair a safe haven from the world beyond the tent's duralon walls. Hal looked at Loki, laying there on his side, and marveled at how much the lad had grown and changed in the time they'd known each other. Had they met when Loki was this age, surely things between them would have gone far more smoothly, but Hal would not trade his experiences with the young knight for the galaxy.

Each had made their own mark on the other, in ways both unpredictable and indelible, and Hal was glad to have known him. Rising from his seat, the yellow-furred Jedi pulled Loki's blanket from his pack and spread it over the nearly-naked lad, tucking him in, as it were. Sleep would not be long in coming to himself, but to avoid a mess of tangles come morning, Hal located his fur brush and gave himself a good once-over before spreading out his bedroll and lying back upon it. His fur would be enough to keep out the cold, and the stone would hold enough heat until sunrise, so he lay there on his back, shimmying around until the rocks beneath him fell into comfortable places, and closed his eyes.

------

When next they opened, it was for but a moment, squeezing back shut as the glow of morning sunlight filtered through the tent's walls. Mouth opening in a wide yawn, he squirmed upon his bedroll, then scratched at an itch on his torso, following it down his abdomen, until his paw slipped beneath the waistband of his blue and white striped boxer shorts to have a scratch there, as well, entirely forgetting he had company in the tent.

[Abarai Loki]

Akasha’s tongue was coarse, but that was alright. He liked it rough, he told her. The milk was dripping from her whiskers and had left her muzzle sopping white; she grinned, a wicked show of teeth, and pricked his skin with her claws.

Loki woke with a gasp, and winced at the morning light. It took a moment of mind-racing for him to make sense of the roof over his head and its strange ethereal glow. And another moment to check his chest for signs of scratching. His skin was pink and warm and unblemished - what a bitter disappointment. When the blanket was lowered again, he caught a whiff of something foul: a potpourri of sweat and old farts. For some indiscernible reason, his body was in full rebellion against him, and over the course of the night, his thick unruly hair had become outright mutinous.

A glance over to Hal found him to be scratching himself, in languorous reverie. Had he slept without a blanket all night? Loki recalled what he’d said about his fur trapping heat; perhaps he was just as warm as he was, and just as comfortable. Even the rocks seemed to have moulded themselves to his satisfaction. In truth, his back was probably a warped and bruised version of its former self by now. Regardless, Loki felt so relaxed he could hibernate until winter. If he didn’t say anything, maybe Hal would nod off again, and they could resume their journey the next day. Happily, he shut out the sun once more.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Itch sated, Hal's paw lingered a bit longer for the pleasure of the sensation before withdrawing from its striped awning. In a proper bed, Hal could easily sleep until noon, but on the ground? Instinct would never let him slip back into slumber.

With a series of grunts and groans, the Nehantite rolled himself over onto his stomach and pushed himself up, adjusting his waistband before standing. The rock had cooled fully in the night, and would be found to be some mere curiosity by some scientist hundreds or thousands of years from now, but Hal didn't care. He needed to take a leak. Bending over, he fished his eyepatch from his bag and pulled it over his left eye before stumbling toward the tent door. A zip was all it took to let in the cool, fresh morning air, and a blinding assault of sunlight into the tent, and he paused, right eye squinting before stepping out and away from their shelter.

Beneath the darkened skies and the pounding rain, the ridge had appeared inhospitable and imposing, but under the light of dawn, it seemed harmless as a lamb. Though rather a bit steeper. Pacing out to the edge of a rise, Hal surveyed the way they had come from then the lands ahead, unable to hide a smile of pride for having made it thus far with relative ease. Deep breaths of crisp, clean air washed by the night's rainfall filled his lungs, firing impulses in his brain as his tail lashed with excitement. There was new land to explore, new things to see, and mysteries which needed solving. Every fiber in his being told him to run and find out.

Well, almost every fiber - his bladder had something to say about that. Glancing down at the land falling away beneath him, Hal wondered just how far he could piss, and as there was no one about to see him do it, he decided to find out.

A mild, sideways breeze ruled out any personal best record, but Hal was not disappointed. He was still young, there would be other times to up that mark. And, speaking of young, Hal glanced back to the tent where Loki remained. Thoughts of their prior night's conversation came to him, and with it a smirk before he cupped his paws to his muzzle and called out, "Loki! I think I see a berry bush over there! I'm gonna go check it out! Be back in about fifteen or twenty minutes or so!"

Fifteen or twenty minutes should be enough to do the trick.

You kidding? At that age I didn't even need five.

Yes, but let's not rush the lad, shall we? Besides, I think we'd both rather have some berries than ration bars, this morning.

By the time Hal returned, his paws were full of ripe buiberries, and parts of his lips were stained slightly purple with their juice. "Breakfast!" he called out, making sure to make noise while approaching the tent, just in case.

[Abarai Loki]

In his solitude, Loki took the time to gather his thoughts prior to the long day ahead. His thoughts were varied and plentiful, and he considered each of them at length; he arrived, shortly, at his most recent thoughts of Akasha Khan, who stalked his dreams like some shadowy predator, hungry for flesh. Fresh in his memory, he recalled the dream in exquisite lingering detail, and savoured every moment of it. He savoured every moment of it, twice. And, once that particular dream had been milked dry, his mind started to wander further afield, when, from further afield, he heard the sound of footsteps.

With a flurry of limbs, he was up, and stuffing the last of his blanket back into his pack as Hal arrived. He was in high spirits, it seemed, and was sporting the telltale stain of blueberries on his lips. Even his smile glistened purple.

“Hal,” he greeted him, a little hoarse, “I was just… tidying up. Good morning.”

Good morning? Inwardly, he cringed at his own uncharacteristic pleasantness. He sounded like that most loathsome of creatures: the morning person. He was emphatically not a morning person. Not anymore, it seemed. The boy who went for pre-dawn runs was gone, and good riddance to the insane fool. When he returned to his bedroll, Loki appeared intent on sustaining the cheerful facade by stretching out with a sigh. But the sigh was genuine: it was the sound of a thousand happy muscles unfurling in blissful unison. He was human taffy.

Hands clasped behind his head, he took note of the berries that Hal hoarded like so many precious jewels, and gave him a nod of appreciation, “I don’t believe I have ever been brought breakfast in bed before.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Yeah, well, don't get used to it," Hal chuckled. Extending his paws, he let his palms part and drop a load of berries into Loki's hands as would a gravel truck spilling its contents. Well, most of its contents, as Hal still wanted some more for himself.

"Sleep well?" he asked, tossing a few berries into his mouth, catching an errant one with his long, agile tongue. "Figured I'd let you... sleep in a bit." His nose twitched a bit, though he hid the knowing smile which fought to be seen. Scent was more than enough to tell the story of Loki's morning routine. Not unlike the scent of his own quarters many a morning...

Does the reader really need to know that?

I don't see what it hurts, given what we've covered already.

Well, it's not a subject we want to dwell on for the whole journey, is it?

Look at you, Mr. Morality. Fine, I'll let it go.

Thanks. And my name's not Morality. It's Hal.

The Nehantite's higher reasoning breathed an exasperated sigh, and let the matter go.

Chewing on his deliciously juicy berries, Hal then pressed them flat against the roof of his mouth with his tongue to extract any more flavor before swallowing. "Well, let me finish these, and get some pants on, and we can break camp and be on our way. Weather is lovely, this morning. Spotted an area that looks ripe for shooting practice, too. We should reach it by midday, if we try."

[Abarai Loki]

As unfortunate as they had been the day previous, with a new day came pleasant weather and a kindly mountainside. They descended at a leisurely pace, passing the time with small talk, which, for the most part, meant that Loki said little, and Hal, a lot. And that was the way Loki liked it and, he suspected, Hal did, too: talking about his former life was one way he could keep it alive. Further down the mountain, there were places where the climbing sun had not yet browned the earth to a crust, where the mud was slick enough to send Loki sliding on his backside. That was to dry in no time, too.

By the time they reached the foot of the mountain, Loki was feeling clammy in all the usual places. Though the heat was not as unmerciful as it had been two days previous, the stretches of cloud trapped moisture in the air, and made him feel like he was hiking through a vegetable steamer. Every step took him further from the nearest sonic shower. He had endured worse, but never with a companion who had the olfactory senses of a bloodhound. Whenever possible, he spared Hal with a little distance, and by remaining downwind.

True to his word, Hal got them to the clearing at midday, by which time, Loki was glad of a rest. While Hal inspected their surroundings, gauged distances, and checked wind direction, Loki squatted in the shade of a bulbous outcropping of rock. There, he gulped greedily from his canteen. Since waking, his mouth had been desert dry and tasted like rotting flesh; the sweet berries had provided temporary reprieve, but, in the end, a perfumed turd is still a turd. The gin was to blame, he knew it, but he’d swallow his tongue before he’d admit it.

When he decided to check up on Hal, he found him taking aim at something imperceptible in the distance. “Are you almost done?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Almost," Hal replied. His cheek never left its weld against the stock of the rifle, his right eye tracking down its iron sights as he focused upon his target. More specifically it was to be Loki's target, but the rifle made for an excellent focal tool while manipulating the Force at such a distance.

At over three hundred yards out, Hal lifted a large clod of dirt, dry as bones, and would puff magnificently with dust upon impact. It was set upon the crest of a bare hill, a perfectly visible target the size of a man's torso. Behind the rise was a partially collapsed bluff, a perfect berm to help Hal spot where Loki's aim might be, if he missed. Setting the clod of earth down gently as not to compromise its structure, Hal closed his one bared eye and let himself relax. Such a volatile structure at that distance had been taxing upon him, both mentally and physically, but now that it was done he could get up.

"Okay, all set. Round is chambered, but the safety is on," he nodded to Loki as he stood, letting his companion take to the rifle. "Now, remember what I said about a smooth, straight pull on the trigger. You were jerking the rifle, last time, pulling too hard. Set your aim, square the butt into your shoulder, relax, and fire when you're ready."

[Abarai Loki]

It wasn’t until Loki had pressed himself into the earth that he even considered the rifle, and, when he did, it was with careful attentive fingers. More than anything, he liked the strange amalgamation of warm metal and smooth wood; it was unlike any other weapon he’d handled. Hal loved his rifle, that much was obvious, and, while Loki would never substitute a piece of military hardware for something like that, he could certainly see the appeal: it was a sensitive and temperamental thing that demanded patience of its wielder, patience, and commitment - what it wanted was a relationship. Hal had that bond with his rifle, and how it sung for him; pride would not allow Loki to see his shots go unsung. He thumbed the safety latch and lined up his shot.

There was a crack, and the rifle bucked like a started horse in his hands, kicking his shoulder. In the distance, there was a notable absence of dust: he’d missed, but that was alright. The spent round was ejected with a ping, and he took aim once more.

“Your rifle,” he said, “Does it have a name?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"High right, about six feet out," Hal called the result of Loki's impact from where the berm had puffed as the bullet struck.

Loki's question caught Hal off guard. A name? For a rifle? He'd honestly never considered the thought. Guns only had names in scaleboy movies, and even then they were things like "Thunder," or "Lucky Sal," or "The Lead Gallows." Shaking his head, the Nehantite answered, "No, she doesn't have a name. Never really thought about giving her one. Names are for people, pets, or speeders. The rifle is nice, and all, but it's just a gun. Not something to get attached to."

Though, in a way he was attached to it. Outside of his lightsabers, it was his only weapon, and it was a unique one, at that. It was hardly the finest that the Ysanna had to offer, but it had done him well, and the bolt, well, he'd never felt a better bolt action on any slug-throwing weapon. Perhaps a name wasn't so far out of the question, the more he thought about it. But, such thoughts were pushed from his mind as he watched Loki line up for another shot, and Hal came to squat down behind him, intending to watch both Loki's movement, and the shot, at the same time.

"Before you take that shot, look past the target. I'm going to toss up some dust where your last one hit," he said, and sure enough, a faint, yet visible puff of dust was ejected from the hole. "Either you're aim is a bit off, or, you're still pulling the rifle when you squeeze the trigger. Breathe out before firing, pull the trigger smooth, but only pull your finger, not your whole hand. And, as a bit of a hint, see if you can lock onto the projectile with the Force before you fire. If you can, and if you can keep up with it while it's in flight, you can correct its path. Got it?"

[Abarai Loki]

"One step at a time, I think, Hal."

Six feet, he thought with disbelief. It was difficult to believe his shots were that far out. Loki had never claimed to be a trained sniper or some sort of crack shot, but he'd handled rifles before, and with considerable accuracy. As much as he cherished his lightsaber and the art of lightsaber combat, he had been made aware, from an early age, that there would be times when only a blaster would suffice. The weapon in his hands was no blaster, but the principles of shooting remained the same: he knew how to pull a trigger. Patience and commitment, he reminded himself with a sigh.

Again, that smell as he pressed his cheek into the wood. Perhaps the rifles' previous owner had been a smoker of rich aromatic leaves. Or, maybe it was just that Hal was meticulous in the treatment and care of his old-world treasure; Loki imagined him labouring over the rifle in dusty coveralls, with grease-stained fingers and a small arsenal of tools, for hours on end. Just a gun, indeed.

"There should be a name for it."

In his hands, the rifle felt perfectly balanced, like it had always been there. His elbows had taken root in the yielding earth. When he breathed, the iron sights dipped a fraction of an inch, forcing him to correct his aim one last time. Slowly, deliberately, he exhaled, lining up his shot. The trigger was teased. An eternity passed, of stillness, and silence. Broken at last by a thunderous resounding shot.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

In the distance, a puff of brown dust exploded. The bullet had found its target, albeit an outer edge, and Hal could not resist the smile which worked up his muzzle.

"Damn. Winged it," he said with an appreciative nod. "Rack another, see if you can get closer to center."

Loki's assessment of his ritual for care of the firearm was exaggerated in a most romantic fashion. Truth be told, while Hal did appreciate the rifle, he did not hold it in such reverence as Loki seemed to. It was a rifle, yes, but that was all. It was a tool for hunting, an instrument of war, and a piece of sporting equipment for target practice. There were no dusty coveralls in Hal's perma-tent, no arsenal of tools, just simple screwdrivers, a pick, and a cleaning rod. Apparel was often simply an old tee shirt and a pair of undershorts, as not to get any powder residue on his "nice" pants. Shoot, clean, oil, store. That was the life his rifle had lived, and he imagined no greater calling for it. Like his lightsaber, it was only an object, one which could be replaced if needed. To value it as one would a life would simply be silly. After all, it wasn't like his stash of holo-porn, or anything.

"Why don't you name it," the words came out before Hal could stop them.

Are we really asking that?

Seems to be that we are. What do you think he'll name it?

Who knows? Until he started rattling off his fantasies, last night, I didn't even know Loki had an imagination!

[Abarai Loki]

“It is not mine to name.”

Loki lined up another shot and fired. In the time it took for the bullet to reach the berm, Loki realised it was a miss. His hit had made him cocky. And, though the rifle was starting to feel familiar in his hands, and against his shoulder, he was still parsecs from the natural ease with which Hal handled it. Familiarity breeds complacency, he reminded himself.

“Your rifle is 'just a gun,' in the same way a speeder is just a vehicle, or a shuttle, just a ship.”

With the next shot, he took his time. Where he was but a novice with a slug-thrower, years of residence had made of him a master of his own body - mostly. Real success would come when he could carry the weapon like an extra limb. And, like the limbs of a tree, his arms were strong and unwavering, cradling the rifle with perfect stillness. Unblinking, he zeroed in on his target, down the barrel of the gun, between the iron sights, across the expanse. His breathing reduced to a whisper away from death. The moment the shot rang out, he knew he’d hit his mark.

“If only I could convince all my targets to remain still for so long.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Three hundred yards downrange, the giant clod of dirt erupted in a triumphant celebration of dust as Loki's bullet passed straight through it, and entered the berm with a smaller puff of satisfaction in a job well done.

"Nice hit!" Hal clapped his paws together once, grinning widely. "Once you've got stationary down, moving ones aren't so bad," he added.

Still nodding in approval, the Nehantite reached his right paw into the cargo pocket of his trousers, and withdrew something flat and metallic. "And, as far as the 'just a gun' thing, yeah, that one's just a gun. This one, however..."

His right paw raised, gripping a double-stack format, slug-throwing pistol magazine. His index finger pointed forward toward the target, and his thumb was raised in the same manner of approximation as a child would do with their hand to pretend they had a gun in a game of cops and robbers. Arm fully extended toward the dirt clod target, Hal stared down his finger as if it had sights on it. "This one's name is Rightbecca," he finished with a smirk.

Without warning, a bullet popped up from the magazine and the sharp crack of a gun being fired followed. The empty brass shell pinged up out of his paw while downrange the dirt clod exploded in another puff of dust, followed by another and and another and another as Hal fired off several rounds in succession from his "finger gun," manipulating the Force to create an extractor, chamber, barrel and firing pin to make his illusion complete.

Four shots fired, he grinned, then lifted his finger to his lips like a gun barrel and blew off the imaginary smoke. "I call the other one Leftina."

[Abarai Loki]

The first crack of gunfire made Loki flinch, and the rest left him no less startled. Perhaps it was the surprise of the unexpected that had reduced his brain to mush, because, even as Hal’s demonstration came to an end, Loki was still trying to make sense of what he’d just witnessed. From Hal’s self-satisfied grin, it was evident that all had gone as expected, and that he hadn’t in fact just blasted off one of his fingers. In a daze of bewilderment, Loki stood to inspect the humble apparatus of pistol magazine and hand.

“What was that?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Finger gun," Hal replied with a grin. Then, with a comical flourish, he twirled the magazine in his fingers as if spinning a revolver by its trigger guard before play-holstering it.

"I use standard bullets, and create the chamber and firing pin with the Force, and put spin on it that way, too. Basically I replicate the mechanism that operates the rifle, there, with the Force," he explained. "Easy way to get a high-speed projectile in a hurry. Well, if you can focus hard enough, that is. Accuracy isn't that great, though, unless you can control your projectile. Which I did. In fact..."

Lifting his finger-gun once more, he aimed a good twenty degrees off-target and squeezed off another round. Moments later the dirt clod felt the impact of another bullet taking off one of its corners. "Bit of Ysanna tactic, there," he smirked.

[Abarai Loki]

For the finale, Loki’s eyebrows gave a leap of surprise. Just as he had come to terms with what he’d seen, Hal pulls the rug out from under him one last time. It was the sort of fantastical trickery one might expect from a children’s story written by someone with an overactive imagination. Finger guns and curving bullets, indeed. He gave a huff of disbelief.

“Suddenly, I am relieved we have something of an understanding with the local Ysanna. I don’t imagine there is much a lightsaber can do against such a shot.” He turned his disbelief on Hal, “You thrive so much on the unconventional, Hal. Perhaps it ought to be your middle name.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"It'd sure as the Pit be better than Faisal," Hal replied, face screwing up in obvious contempt of his actual middle name. Pistol magazine dropping back into his right cargo pocket, the Nehantite let his weight shift to one side, thumbs hooking into his regular pockets. In moments he'd gone from cocky showoff to simply a regular guy, and it was a look which seemed so suit him well.

"Given time, I think most of the Ysanna will come around to our side. Most don't want conflict, they're just concerned over territory," he said. "But, yeah, lightsaber vs. lead slug is a bad combo. Unless you like getting splattered with nearly supersonic liquid lead, that is." There came the smirk, but it faded quickly into an average smile. "I like the unconventional because I never fit in, anyway. Wasn't exactly worse off learning the weird stuff, and all, y'know? Besides, maybe that's why I got frozen, anyhow. If I wasn't here, you think any of you would know we could do things like what I just did? Heck, most in my day didn't even know it could be controlled to that level. Guess I got pulled forward in time so some of that stuff doesn't get lost."

Taking a deep breath, Hal looked to the horizon. "But, speaking of lost, I think you and I still have something to find, way out there. I'm game to move on, if you are."

[Abarai Loki]

“Indeed.”

Loki followed Hal’s gaze, where the sun lanced in golden spears between the shoulders of mountains. A natural path was worn between the two hulking giants, carpeted in fine rubble, and sinking into a valley of thickest green. The next leg of their journey promised to be pleasant, whatever the weather.

He retrieved the rifle and handed it to Hal. It was for the best: his progress had been so thoroughly eclipsed by his companion’s eccentric display of marksmanship, and it was the thought of exploring, not shooting, that held his attention going forward. There was still a long way to go and it was strange to think of their journey having a final destination; until Hal reminded him of their objective, Loki had all but forgotten they were looking for something in the first place.

While they walked, Loki’s thoughts dwelled on what Hal had said about how he had been frozen, and consequently transported to the future, and how he had speculated on the reason for it. Hal had spoken of a Garfife before, so it wasn’t unexpected of him to have further superstitions, and to put stock in a concept like fate, and since his temporal upheaval had been, and continued to be, such a source of suffering for his unlikely friend, Loki chose to keep his mouth shut, and allow him the comfort of his beliefs. In the past, it would’ve pained him not to raise objections, and now, the opposite was true.

“Were you raised with religious beliefs, Hal?”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's left eyebrow quirked above his eyepatch, and he looked over to his traveling companion. "Well, yeah," he answered. His tone of voice seemed to make the idea a given, as he often forgot that others did not know his race and their ways as well as he did.

Come to think of it, we really should know better, by now. I mean, if they don't have fur and pink eyes, they typically don't know much about us at all. His higher reasoning mused.

They know we're usually mechanics and engineers, his base natures chimed in.

True, but that hardly defines our culture, now does it?

I... don't know? Why are you asking me the hard questions? You're the smart one! You.... you're making fun of me, aren't you!

*sigh* No, I'm not making fun of you. Just... go on working on body stuff, I'll work the brain.

Most of my race believe in Garfife, the great Creator. Some kingdoms and cultures call Him by other names, or have separated Him into multiple deities, but the overall concept is the same," Hal explained. "We know He created us as sentient, thinking beings less than seven thousand years ago, because, well, that's what all the histories say, from around our world, and we've not find any skeletal evidence of us from before then. Strangely, we have found little critter-sized versions of something a lot like us which appears to have vanished at the time we were made, so, yeah, He elevated us from animals to men, at that point."

It had been some time since Hal had talked to anyone about Garfife. Hal took Him as such a given that he didn't bring Him up, and so he found himself trying to sort out what to say next. "He... He's a pretty lenient god, compared to some. Basically just be good and fair to each other, and respect and honor Him and you're all good. Don't steal, don't murder, don't sleep with another man's wife without permission, that sort of thing. And, if you do right, when you die the Doorman shows you to Paradise. Live a life of evil, and the Doorman takes you to the Pit, where you exist forever in darkness and flame and pain."

[Abarai Loki]

"Do your people think the Force is a creation of Garfife, or an extension of his will? I know of some religions that believe as such."

He was thinking of Rev Solomon and his preachments. Again, he didn't see the sense in such beliefs, but, considering the old Jedi's blackened history, he conceded the need for them. But it was not the nature of faith and psychology and supersition that interested him, but rather the things they shaped: in the people who believed, and the places they worshipped. Nehantish, in more ways than one, seemed worlds away from anything he had ever encountered. The holonet could furnish him with facts, but Hal could give him the truth.

While it was fascinating that elements of his people's belief structure were built upon scientific fact - and, indeed, at his first opportunity, Loki would look into those 7000 year old bones - what was more interesting to Loki was how it affected Hal, and his home, and his upbringing. Not a lot, he considered, if his litany of sexual conquests was to be believed. Or perhaps that had no bearing on the Doorman's judgement at all.

"Do you have orgies?" he said suddenly, his tone suggested he was asking if Hal took sugar with his tea, "The Cizerack can't seem to find enough excuses for them. Saanjarra must feel honoured, indeed."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Had Halajiin Rabeak been drinking from his canteen at that moment, a virulent spray of water mist would have exploded from his lips to the tune of a choked, yet trumpeting raspberry. As it was, there was no hiding the expression of shocked incredulity upon his face when he was asked about such a topic so out of the blue.

"Orgies?" he asked, one eyebrow still sky high. It wasn't that he was uncomfortable talking about his experiences, but he just hadn't been prepared for such a drastic change in subject. "Well, they do happen, yeah," he nodded. "But, not commonly. About the same as any other culture with consenting adults who don't mind mixing it up in a group, I suppose," Hal explained. "They're nothing to do with our cultural or religious beliefs, though, as far as I'm aware. Well, mostly. I hear that some Munjan sects do practice some ritualistic group sessions, but, again it's not really normal. Outside of males in relief centers during mating season, our culture works a lot like most others. Typically monogamous relationships, though there's always some who are more promiscuous than others."

It was a careful explanation, albeit a tad rambling through the subject, but Hal felt he had tackled it well, and gave himself a virtual pat on the back. At least until his base natures felt the need to butt in with a comment of their own.

"Though, I was sort of in a Cizerack orgy, once," he admitted. "It was on Coruscant, a few days before I got frozen."

[Abarai Loki]

"I don't imagine that was much of a religious experience."

The weight of his exasperation was toppled with a knowing roll of the eyes. He landed his gaze on Hal long enough to shake his head, before he marched on. Underfoot, the bone white rubble crunched and clacked in tiny avelanches as they vanished below the treeline. Though there was relief in the shade, the air was thickly humid, and the shrubbery sweating. Loki drank at the moist air; the forest itself was rich with exotic fragrance.

"What is..." he paused for thought, "The best place you've ever been?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Was more of a porn shoot," Hal chuckled at Loki's first comment. The second, however, caused him pause.

"Best place I've ever been..." The question was echoed in order to give his brain time to think. Glimpses and memories of his travels and life experiences flashed before his mind's eye, some easy candidates for the winner, while a handful of others were held aside as possible alternates. Brow furrowing in thought, Hal paild little attention to his surroundings. Loki might as well have asked him what his favorite meal of all time was, or his favorite star in the night sky of Nehantish. In the end, though, he knew what it would be, yet he hesitated in saying it, for the company he kept.

"Um, well, I've been a lot of places," he stalled once more. "Each can be spectacular in their own way, though some take more work to appreciate than others. Nehantish will always be home, but I wouldn't call it the best place I've ever been. Coruscant was... breathtaking, and not even in a thousand lifetimes could you see all of it. Mandalore and Naboo both have so much history and beauty, but neither could I call the best."

His tail lashed, an easy signal of frustration while his lips pursed slightly.

Out with it.

But he's right here!

Just say it.

His gaze turning up toward the sky, then down to the horizon, Hal sighed. "I suppose the place I'll never forget, the one which seemed the most magical and wonderous was Alderaan," he finally admitted. It could be a sore subject, as it was Loki's ancestral homeland, yet his young friend likely had no actual memory of it in person. "I went there with my master, once, when I was sixteen. I'd seen trees, before, but only in gardens and preserves. I'd never seen an actual forest, or open fields of grass and brush that I could simply walk through. I was allowed a whole day to myself, and I spent it there, in the forest. It was the closest thing I could imagine to paradise, at that age."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki thought for a while on his response to that. Hal had never mentioned Alderaan before. Alderaan the peaceful, the refined, the beautiful; it was his homeworld, and, for all intents and purposes, it was a place he had never seen... and never would. Long ago, he had come to terms with the reality of his misfortune, robbed of his family and home by a singularly evil act of genocide, but even time and acceptance could not prevent the envy that rose up inside of him like a bitter froth. He didn't resent Hal for his experiences, but the sudden and unexpected nature of his revelation served as a keen reminder of what had been lost.

"I have seen images, on the Holonet. It looked very beautiful."

In that moment, he was painfully aware of every single muscle in his face, and the story they told. It didn't hurt to speak about Alderaan or his family, having never known them himself - the loss was written into his make-up with the same kind of banality as his date of birth or blood type. But it was undoubtedly in his blood, and its colour was blue. What exactly that meant anymore, to him, or to anyone else, had become something of a mystery. And he had a suspicion that his uncertainty was crystal clear.

"My family lived in the mountains around the Glarus Valley - that was where the first king was anointed. Did you visit the north? Did you see the ruins of the Elysium?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's head shook slowly, the errant flop of headfur in front raking across his brow as he did so. "No, sadly not," he replied. His right eye, uncovered, seemed to see as little as his left as his mind rolled back the pages of time to the memory of those few days he spent on the now-deceased planet.

"We were there on a diplomatic mission, though I was essentially there to watch and learn, and especially to keep my mouth shut. We were somewhere in the northeast, but not anywhere close to Aldera. I can't remember the name of the city, sadly, because I wasn't paying as much attention to the mission as I should have. To be honest, I was more than a little overwhelmed at the scenery. Garfife, I would love to go back there. Ossus has its forests and jungles, too, but... they're not the same. I never felt as at peace as I was on Alderaan."

A few more steps were taken in silence before his base natures squeezed out a comment of their own. "I didn't even try to hit on the girl who was my escort and guide. I mean, she was pretty, too, but, compared to that forest, and those fields... I fell in love with the landscape, instead. Supposedly there are some places like that in Midloth, but I've never been there."

[Abarai Loki]

“I expect the destruction of Alderaan created billions of what-if’s. Countless opportunities denied in a heartbeat. Many a time, I have wondered of the life I might have otherwise had; House Abarai had links to House Panteer, according to my grandfather, my ancestors were the cousins of kings and queens. While there is a part of me that would wear that mantle well, it does make me wonder of the opportunities I might have been denied under different circumstances.”

Halajiin Rabeak, for example, would have been a name entirely foreign to him. Perhaps, he thought with a jolt of horror, the Abarai Loki on Alderaan might never have held in his soft hands a lightsaber. He could’ve been a politician, or a businessman, or fat. It gave him comfort to think he had avoided growing up a pampered rich kid - a bullet dodged, so the saying went.

“I wonder if the noble houses of Alderaan arranged marriages. To think, I could’ve been someone’s husband,” he said, with distaste, “Such a dreadful existence.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"What, you'd prefer to be someone's wife?" Hal asked, arching an eyebrow.

[Abarai Loki]

"No," Loki was tuneful in his patience, oblivious to the joke sailing overhead, "I am repelled by the idea that someone may, by virtue of birth, dictate the purpose of one's life. Especially when that purpose is so painfully domesticated."

Ahead, there was a sound of running water. Loki, whose lips were as dry as old parchment, altered course and unclipped his now-empty canteen. Gin was bad, he told himself for the umpteenth time.

"If my time on Ossus has taught me anything about myself, it is that I crave for something more than what this caged and regimented lifestyle has to offer. Whatever that is... remains to be seen."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Paws dipping into his pockets, Hal withdrew a half-crumpled package of stims which until that moment had not made an appearance during the pair's adventure into the unknown. Clapping the package against one palm, the Nehantite then withdrew one and placed it unlit between his lips, dropping the package back into his pocket.

"Born to purpose," he spoke, the stim waggling up and down as his lips held it in place. "Or, born as any other, with slightly different circumstances, and still having to find your purpose? I could have spent my life slagging off those in the first and second classes; the rich ones, the nobles, those who could do whatever they wanted while I lived blue-collar at best, but... I didn't. I wasn't them, they weren't me. Nobody could be me but me. Even if I was born with the silver spoon in my mouth, I'd be me."

Right paw reaching back, Hal withdrew his lightsaber and raised it before his muzzle. With a snap-hiss it sang to life, only to be snuffed once more, leaving the bright, glowing orange tip of his stim as any evidence it had been ignited at all before he stowed it once more. The stim glowed brighter still as Hal pulled in a deep breath through it, then lifted the stim from his lips between two fingers and his thumb before breathing out a long, thin strand of curling smoke. "Most kids grow up with structure and order from their parents, then their school. After that, they head on out into the big, wide world, with no fucking clue as to what life is. Call it what you like, Loki, but I'm not seeing much different with you, in this situation. Yeah, it's time for you to get out there and fuck up all over the place as you figure yourself out. Everybody does that. I did that. It's called growing up, and there's no easy or set way to do it."

Hal took another drag from his stim, closing his uncovered eye as he exhaled. "Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to take away from your struggle, I just think you deserve to know how it is."

[Abarai Loki]

"Good, then I should fit in with everyone else."

Loki gave a nod, half to Hal, half to himself. Beyond Ossus, the last thing he wanted was to become the centre of attention in some unmentionable place half a galaxy away. If he was to survive, and grow, it would be out of the shadow of the Jedi and the Alliance, wherever that may be. In silence, he reflected on Hal's words. When he finally spoke, his words were resolute:

"I do not intend to 'fuck up all over the place,' Hal."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Oh, nobody intends to," Hal said between puffs on his stim. "But it happens, and that's just part of the experience. Some do it more than others, some do it less. It's just the nature of things."

Before long, the pair came upon the stream which they had heard babbling for some time, and a break was called to refill canteens and just rest in general. Seating himself beside the bank, Hal took a deep drag from his stim, burning it down to the filter, before crushing the stim out on the dirt. Smoke came laden with his words. "You know, if this had been a year ago, I'd have gone with you. Funny how things can change in just a short time, isn't it? You're gonna go off and do your own thing, play by your own rules, and I'm going to be a proper Jedi and teach the initiates, and be respectable and shit."

A mild laugh followed, as did a smile up his pale-furred muzzle. "I put on my robes, the other day. You should have seen it. Probably would have laughed your butt off. Robes, proper boots, had my headfur oiled and combed. I barely even recognized me." A wistful sigh, then a chuckle, and Hal couldn't help but grin. "Man, I wish I had known you back on Coruscant, in my day. Jedi robes? Total chick magnet, man. I never went home alone, when I went to a club in my robes, I'll tell you."

[Abarai Loki]

"Hot. Itchy. Cumbersome. These are the qualities I have heard attributed to Jedi robes. Chick magnet?" He repeated Hal's words. They were an ill fit, "That is a new one."

Loki crouched beside the stream, and plunged his face into its clear water. The bite of cold was instant. While he was submerged, he threw handfuls of water over his head, and ran his fingers through his hair. When he finally resurfaced, gasping, the sickly haze of gin had been washed downstream. Amongst the rocks, he found a seat, and drank deeply.

"My own Jedi tunic has been replaced frequently of late. I have one preference: black. Plain, stealthy, and it is not so easily dirtied. Plus, it looks good." When Hal was slow to respond, he gave him a look, "Do you not agree?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The Nehantite shrugged his shoulders noncommittally. "Black is fine, sometimes, but as a sort of personal uniform?" he asked rhetorically, "It's not really my thing. Actually makes you stand out more than you think, especially if you pair it with black trousers. People start to notice you. You always notice the man in all black, because they look like they're trying not to be noticed. Black and white both have that problem. It's why I often think in shades of grey."

Leaning back on his elbows, Hal looked his friend over once more, taking careful note of his complexion and his hair color. "Hmm, for you, if you want to be stealthy and blend in, I'd go with light greys, maybe some beige. Pair a lighter tunic with dark trousers, that'd make you inconspicuous. I never wore black to blend in to any sort of crowd, only ever for night missions. Stealth in public is all about looking like you belong there. Simple is good, but it comes down to confidence. You want to go unnoticed, best way is to act like you've always been there, or you were invited. Sense the area instead of looking around; do the things the locals do. Try it for a bit, then look around and you'll start to spot the man or woman in black, trying too hard to be unseen."

Thinking more on it, Hal pursed his lips. "You know... maybe I should go with you. At least for a bit; teach you some of what I was taught about stealth and infiltration. If you're going to go unnoticed, it's easier if you have someone to show you the ropes."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki became perfectly still while he considered Hal's words, and then, careful not to show his hand, he said:

"You have just renewed your oath to the Jedi Order, before the Council, no less. And, here you are, talking about leaving Ossus with me. How do you expect to commit to such a thing?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal let his paw comb through the flop of headfur while he contemplated his response. But in the end, he found he needed no contemplation. To think upon one's words was the way of a manipulator, or a false person. Hal spoke from his heart, though he knew it often caused him more trouble than it was worth.

"I renewed my oath, yes," he nodded. "But I've yet to be given any responsibility. Instead I have been asked to find my own ways to contribute to our Order. Well, you're a Jedi, no matter what you think you may wish to be in the future, so, I'm going to help you."

That was it, his words concluding with a light smile. Well, almost it. "And quite frankly, if they don't like it, they can sod off. They haven't been doing a terribly stellar job running things, anyway, so why not do what I feel is best. Besides, you're my friend. Don't want you to find yourself in trouble, prematurely, when I could have helped."

[Abarai Loki]

"I see. Then I will be glad to have you along."

Despite the fact that Hal's sudden change of heart seemed to have materialised from the ether, Loki was satisfied with his answer. The last thing he wanted was to be reponsible for was drawing his friend away from the new sense of belonging and purpose he had found with the Jedi. It seemed, however, Halajiin Rabeak was capable of making quick sense of even his most spontaneous of whims. Besides, he conceded, there was a certain logic to his words.

"I am not without experience," he said, back on topic, "Senator Meorrrei and I carried out an undercover mission on Ando some time ago. We were required to blend in, with middling success. I watched people and attempted to immitate their behaviour. Very little of it made sense to me. People my age like to greet each other like this."

Loki raised his middle finger.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's smile faded, brow furrowing as his face turned to a displeased scowl. "Well, fuck you, too," he snorted, flipping the bird right back at him.

"Do you even know what this means?" The finger was still extended upwards in a most forceful gesture.

[Abarai Loki]

The slightest tilt of the head betrayed Loki's answer. Confusion, born of Hal's rather forceful response, traced lines between his friend's gesture and his own solitary erect finger.

"... Not 'Hello'?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"No. Definitely not hello," Hal replied. The finger remained upright until he was satisfied his point had been made, wherein it curled back into his fist, which then relaxed so he could lean back upon his paw once more.

"That could have gotten you in a whole world of hurt, dude," the Nehantite said, shaking his head. "That gesture means 'fuck you.' It's called flipping someone off, giving the finger, flipping the bird, and many other names. It's not a nice gesture, and certainly not the way you want to say hello to someone, unless you want a fight on your hands. And, the simple fact that you haven't watched enough holovision to know that tells me that, yes, I'm definitely going off-world, with you, and you're going to get a crash course on how to actually blend in with a crowd."

It came out a bit more forcefully than he intended, and Hal realized so, letting his chest fall with another, quieter sigh, before he smirked. "This Meorrrei sounds Cizerack, and, to be quite blunt, they're not the best at fitting in, or being discrete. Believe me, I would know."

[Abarai Loki]

"Taataani Meorrrei is a woman of status and wealth, and is about as educated on the behaviour of common sorts as I am. We muddled through the experience on Ando, but not without our share of stumbles. It was what they call the blind leading the blind."

Loki emptied his canteen with one last gulp and lowered it into the stream. Where he had washed, the cold water dripped from his hair and ran in icy rivulets down his back. He shuddered, and stood. His tunic would soak up the excess moisture. Ahead, the terrain fell away in weaving slops of rock and grass. Before he set off, he considered their direction, and glanced back at Hal.

"If you are to join me on the first leg of my... retreat, where do you suggest we go first?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal shrugged. "I dunno," he answered. "Somewhere with a lot of people, for one thing. Maybe somewhere not too pristine. Casinos would be a good start."

Hauling himself up from his seat, the Nehantite brushed dust and dirt from his backside and his tail, then dipped his own canteen into the stream. "Casino would actually be a really good place, now that I think about it. Lots to see, lots to know what to look for, and easily leads down a bit seedier path. Think Belderone's got some good casinos. Hear the miners talk about off-world trips there."

Canteen tossed into his pack, and rifle taken up once more, Hal checked its magazine, then slipped an additional round from his pocket and chambered it, careful to set the safety as the gun was live after doing so. "Not too much farther to where the map indicated," he announced. "Wonder what that fellow was after, all that time ago. If it was Twi'n'kies, they might still be good."

[Abarai Loki]

"Gambling is for fools with too much money and too little sense."

While Loki had never set foot inside a casino, he was aware of their purpose. The idea of wasting credits on frivolous games appealed to him about as much as a marathon viewing of Married with Ithorians. Once his distaste abated, he put aside his personal feelings and became objective in his considerations. After all, they would not be visiting casinos for pleasure, but for education. His brow furrowed as his thoughts encountered their first obstacle.

"I assume people who frequent casinos observe a certain dress code. I do not imagine the quartermaster has a couple of dinner jackets to spare."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

A hearty chuckle rang from Hal's mouth as he shook his head. "You know, sometimes I wonder if I might be wrong when I think you don't watch enough holovision. In this case, you might have watched too much," he replied.

Starting on the way downhill, the stream to their left, Hal could not keep himself from smiling. "Dinner jackets, tuxedoes, those are things you really only see in films. At least as far as most casinos go," he explained. "An average casino patron wears plain trousers and a tee shirt, these days. The casino doesn't care, as long as they're getting your money, for the most part. Sure, there's some hoity-toity ones, but you won't learn much there except how to be a twit. No, an average casino is where you'll find the average person, as well as both ends of the extreme. It's where I was taught some of my first people-watching skills, where I learned first how to blend in, to be unnoticed, even despite my race. For you, it actually ought to be easier, I'd imagine, being human, and all. So many of you around, almost no one gives you a second look."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki gave a grunt. "I had never considered myself so common."

The decline was gentle and the ground forgiving underfoot. Ahead, the greenery was scarred, a deep ravine slashed across the landscape. On either side it was marked with winding paths of yellow dust which led them inexorably back to the stream which jostled amongst the rocks far below. They stopped, first, to consider the terrain, and then, the tracker.

"Down there?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Looks that way," Hal concurred. The tracker flickered and spun backwards for a moment, though all appeared to be corrected by a sharp smack of his palm against it. "By my reckoning, we should reach it right at nightfall, if we really push. Though, to be honest I'd rather have daylight when we get there, so I don't mind being a tad leisurely."

Pocketing the device, Hal hitched his rifle up on his shoulder, glad he'd had no true occasion to use it other than target practice, and a spot of hunting, thus far. From the looks of things, there would be no further call for it, either, and the Nehantite soon found easy, somewhat sandy footing as he trod along the stream bank. "At least we won't be wanting for water."

It was an attempt at small talk, but as usual, Loki didn't pick up on it, so Hal didn't stress the issue. Walking in silence was no difficult feat, and for some time, he simply enjoyed the scenery, and boggled over what may lay in wait for them at the end of their trek. Even if it was nothing, Hal knew the journey had been worth taking. Too long had he sequestered himself away from his fellow Jedi, to the point where they no longer seemed to know him, nor he them. Not that he ever truly fit in, but that seemed beside the point in such company.

For the first time in his life, Halajiin Rabeak felt like an actual adult. Always he had looked up to those older, or more experienced than himself, and while he liked to brag, or show off his own skills, the sensation of maturity had never been one to roll across his shoulders. It seemed strangest, now, to consider Loki. Up until this point, Hal had always considered him to be at least an equal, if not something of a superior in the Order. But now, with the young man somewhere around sixteen, Hal could see in him parts of himself. The lack of confidence in his direction, the insecurity about his future, and the desire to find himself. Hal had felt the exact same emotions while heading the opposite direction about that age. Hal had gone to the Order, where Loki would be leaving it, but in the end was the journey not the same? It mattered not where you went, but who you would become.

Hal would have liked to have known Loki on the same age level, he found himself wishing, so that he could sort out the turmoil in his own mind, body and soul with a friend there to help him, and for him to help that friend in return.

"You know, common isn't such a bad thing," Hal said at last, as the canyon began to loom before them. "It means there's plenty of people who can relate with you. Though I suspect you're less common than you imagine yourself to be, on that level."

He found his tail suddenly lashing out of its own accord, sweeping away a couple mosquitoes. "Aw, crap, this is gonna suck," he found himself grumbling. Of the things he packed, bug spray was not one of them.

[Abarai Loki]

"It means there's plenty of people who can relate with you. Though I suspect you're less common than you imagine yourself to be, on that level."

"You would be surprised."

It was an ambiguous answer, and deliberately so. Whenever Hal sympathised with him, or likened his experiences to those of regular people, there was a part of Loki that wondered if he said those things just to make him feel better. In the lingering silences between words, that part was mutinous and loud. Though he shared their skills, Loki was not a Jedi, at least not as he had come to understand the term. And, regardless of what Hal said, he was confident there wasn't a single person out there, amongst the stars, who was anything like him - that person died on Maridun, years ago. There was a time when he once prided himself on being exceptional, now, however, he longed for the company of someone who understood. In all the galaxy, Halajiin Rabeak was the closest thing he had to that, and it still wasn't enough.

Much like his mind, Loki's feet wandered, probing the gentle incline. The path was narrow and framed at intervals in tufts of leaping green. The sun was high, banishing shadows, and scorching the earth. When they turned back on themselves, for the next leg of the descent, the gilded stream was dazzling. Loki shielded his eyes with one hand, and swiped at a bug with another.

"Do you remember when we first met?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"How could I forget?" Hal replied. "You were so stiff, and formal; so set in your ways. I must have annoyed the hell out of you."

The Nehantite paused, then, surveying the land before them once more. Through the entire journey, apart from swimming, Hal had worn his boots, their heavy sole leaving thick and distinct tracks upon the earth wherever he had gone. Over rough and dry ground, they had been a benefit, saving the pads of his footpaws from nicks, cuts and abrasions, but along the banks of the stream, with its gentle slope and grassy carpet, they seemed most unnecessary. "Give me a moment," he said.

Pack and rifle unslung, Hal laid them carefully upon the ground before dropping to a seat to unlace his black, leather boots. Each came free with a pop, and he let his bare toes wriggle in the air, cuffing his pantlegs up to his mid shins before tying the laces of his boots together, through the loop at the top of his pack. "Much better." Clambering back upright, the yellow-furred mongoose closed his eyes inhaled a deep breath of the clean, fresh air, letting his feet take in the simple joy of coming in contact with the earth itself. Unburdened by his pack and rifle, Hal took on a new energy, scampering about a few steps before returning to his things. "So much better."

[Abarai Loki]

“I am pleased to hear it,” Loki said, mystified by Hal’s strange ritual. Sometimes, he wondered if he did these kinds of things to keep him on his toes, to keep him guessing. If that was the case, it was working.

“Indeed, I was, as you say, set in my ways. You, on the other hand, were rather unhinged, and unpredictable, and antagonistic, and short-tempered; you had a chip on your shoulder, and you talked too much, especially about sex, and you insisted on flying in the face of convention at every opportunity. You were the biggest fly in the most muddled ointment, and a relentless thorn in my side.” A tick of amusement skewed his otherwise determinedly grave expression, “I gave you a week.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"And yet, here I am, still here," Hal replied. He padded spritely over the grass, a lightness in his step which had been absent much of the journey. "And have I really changed so much?" he asked, smirking back to his companion. Of course he had, toned down considerably, and becoming more respectful of others and their traditions, to the point that he extricated himself from them as not to cause a ruckus. "I had to know where I stood; what I could get away with, and how my attitude would be taken. Turns out, wasn't taken very well, but I was wrong to act like I did. I was acting as if things hadn't changed, because, well, for me they hadn't. I was still in the mindset of a century ago, where I and my behavior had already become accustomed to. There were enough of us that I could live on the edges, and not be entirely alone. Not so, here and now."

His tail swished back and forth as he held his arms out, all attempting to maintain his balance as he took to a single-file method of walking upon stones barely emerging from the surface of the stream, occasionally having to leap from one to the nest, his toes dipping into the water upon many a step. "At first I thought you were going to be just another dogmatic, by-the-book, stick-up-your-ass kind of Jedi, but I learned a lot on that morning run we had. You could have carried on with your run, when I stopped for a breather, but you didn't. You stayed and waited with me. You were curious, you were -" He paused there, teetering on one footpaw as he sought out his next move, no convenient stone making itself seen before him. Tail flicking in frustration, he instead leapt back to the shore. "You cared, even if in just some small way, about someone you barely knew, and who wasn't like you at all. That's when I knew we'd be friends, in some fashion. Thankfully you wound up giving me more than a week, at that point."

[Abarai Loki]

"You hopeless optimist. You give me too much credit. The only reason I lingered was because I saw how out of shape you were, and an unfit Jedi is of use to nobody. I was merely doing my duty."

Continuing to trudge along the river bank, Loki watched Hal's movements with passing interest. His species were light on their feet, at least when unencumbered by heavy boots. If he remembered correctly, Hal ran barefoot that morning so long ago, too. His younger self would've recoiled to have learned they would still be socialising, and willingly, so far into the future. Hal would've called him a 'Dick,' or similar, but Loki tried to not be too hard on himself: even in retrospect, there was a sound logic to the way he behaved back then, just not a lot of heart.

Even now, Halajiin Rabeak looked nothing like a Jedi Knight, with his casual attire and his playful demeanour. If Loki had learned one thing from his unlikely friend it was that appearances were meaningless. He considered, then, that perhaps it would not be as easy to shrug off the Jedi mantle as it was to shrug out of his Jedi robes. A thought occured to him.

"Hal, do you have any leftover lightsaber components? I may need to construct a new weapon before I leave."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Oh, I've got tons," Hal answered. His eyes scanned for more smooth stones to jump from one to the next on, but the stream decided it had had enough of his little game, and hid them all for the time being. Falling into line beside Loki. he adjusted his pack and rifle. "I built a bunch of the training sabers your students were using, using some of the substandard crystals, or crystal fragments. Still have a couple quality crystals left, though, and a while bin of parts. I'll let you have a root through when we get back. I even built a few new ones for myself. Wanna see?"

Like he truly needed to ask that question, knowing who he was talking to. A halt was called, and for a moment Hal wished he hadn't taken off his boots, as his display of his handiwork would have been even more impressive. As it was, Hal set his pack down, boots stood upright nearly in front of him, and he held out his paws, grinning. From pockets on the sides of his boots, two metal half-cylinders shot up into his paws, and Hal clapped them together before flicking the switch, mentally, and a beam of thick, red plasma shot forth from the saber's emitter. Letting it hum for a moment, he then shut it down, twisted the two halves and let them separate in his paws, holding one in each. "Collapsible," he stated, smirking.

"And surprising." He said no more, instead holding the two halves apart before they each flared to life, proving to be a saber each, albeit with a more slender blade than when joined. "Always good to have backups. Just gotta shut it down before combining, or separating. The emitters don't do well going from one stage to the other, live." Powering them down, he flipped each over in his paws and extended them to Loki. "Wanna see? I've got another fun one, back at my place, too."

[Abarai Loki]

When the saber halves sprang from Hal’s boots, Loki’s eyebrows gave a leap of surprise. But when the halves became fully-functioning lightsabers in their own right, he stepped back to take in the sight before him, as if he could mentally frame the image of the dual mini sabers for keeping. He was endlessly fascinated by the different ways a Jedi could go about building their weapon - there was so much variety out there, despite the fact that the fundamentals of lightsaber construction remained the same. He accepted Hal’s lightsabers with a nod of gratitude, and turned them over in his hands.

“I have never liked dual wielding, personally. It somehow feels less… sophisticated,” he said, then remembering who he was talking to, he added, diplomatically, “There is great ingenuity in your design, Hal. That it works so seamlessly is a testament to your craftsmanship. I may have need of your skills in the near future.”

As he returned Hal’s lightsabers, he elaborated, “I want to build a lightsaber from unassuming parts that can be assembled and disassembled quickly. To the untrained eye, these components should appear as nothing more than scrap, or spare parts. It will not do to go gallivanting about the galaxy with this on display.”

Whereupon, he gestured to his own ornate and engraved Jedi weapon, hanging from his hip.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The process of returning his split sabers into his boots was a decidedly less flashy affair, yet the time involved afforded Hal the chance to chatter, as he so often seemed to do. "Well, you may be in luck, in that case," he said. "I've made a little something you might be interested in. It's not with me, but I'd be glad to show you when we get back to my place. Hardest part will be disguising the crystal, as you need a proper length in order to maintain a decent blade length. Either that, or you need a crystal with a really clean structure, which... I don't know if I have one of. We'll see what I've got; I'm sure we can get you sorted out."

Second half-saber tucked back into its hiding place, the Nehantite slung his pack over his shoulders again, and took up his rifle. Only then did he give Loki's own saber another look. "You know, if you're not taking that with you, I can keep it safe for you, here. It really is quite lovely. Beats the hell out of my old work truck."

For the second time, Hal's mastery of telekenesis came into play, rocketing his own normal saber from the tube holster along the back of his belt, and into his awaiting right paw. It had been beautiful once, though that once had been long before Hal was ever born, and it had likely been made from elements of multiple other sabers, or possibly a candlestick; it was difficult to tell. Well-worn brass which had once been gleaming now was so scuffed and nicked that it gave only a dull luster. Sterling silver trim rings had become tarnished to nearly match the dark sheen of the oiled bronze main body. Brown leather likely taken from an old club chair was stretched tight over a ribbed underlay, sewn fast with animal sinew cord, and so stained and darkened by palm sweat that it glistened in the light. Only the emitter remained as shiny as new, and that was due to the simple fact that the heat of the blade was enough to burn off any residue.

Looking at it, one would presume the saber was on its last legs, but thanks to Hal's careful attention, its internals could stand up to anything newly minted. A proud smile worked up the Nehantite's muzzle as he looked at it in his open paw. "Guess who was last to the parts bin, when we got to make ours, in my class?"

[Abarai Loki]

“Every Jedi weapon has a story to tell. Whether they intend to or not, the wielder reveals his soul in his craftsmanship. My lightsaber no longer reflects what resides in my heart.”

The way Loki spoke, he could’ve been giving a weather report - there was even the same twinge of disappointment that usually accompanied the words “With a chance of rain.” Whatever truths he’d learned about himself, and his intimate relationship with his Jedi weapon, he’d discovered long ago. The details were all just a matter of unfortunate fact, now. Absently, he traced a finger along all the familiar grooves in the metal, and recalled the hours of meticulous whittling he’d dedicated to each of them.

After considering Hal’s storied lightsaber at length, and his words, Loki met his gaze.

“This lightsaber is of great personal value to me. I shall not wield it, nor shall I part with it. The crystal…”

With a single motion, the lightsaber was unclipped, and came alive with a burst of blue.

“The crystal is pristine. I have need for no other.”

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal tucked his weapon away, marveling at the pure, piercing blue of Loki's blade, a shade or two deeper than most. "It really is a beauty, that's for sure," he nodded.

The weapon suited Loki well, even if he no longer felt it was the correct reflection of himself. Some weapons, like some people, simply possessed an air of quality, of worth, about them that could not be denied. Both the saber, and its owner, were well matched in such regard.

"So, you're taking that one, and want another in addition?" the Nehantite asked. Ticking his head toward downstream to encourage movement while they talked, Hal then swiped at another mosquito, and could not help but wonder how effective a lightsaber would function as a bug zapper, should they require one.

[Abarai Loki]

"It will not be an additional lightsaber, because, without a crystal, this will no longer function as one. And if it is not a lightsaber, it is merely an ornament."

For a moment, he considered the weapon in his hand, and the word that had just tumbled from his lips. It wore it surprisingly well. The blade was snuffed out and the lightsaber returned to his hip. To his surprise, the word still hung in the air around him, like a lingering smell. He grimmaced. When did he become so nostalgic?

It was a lightsaber, he reminded himself, as he took off after Hal. Lightsabers were always the exception to logic. When he fell into step alongside Hal, he noticed he was studying the tracker again.

Eyes front, he gave a small nod, "I'm going to be a droid engineer."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Oh, like Suri?" Hal asked. The name rolled off his tongue without truly thinking about it. Yes, they'd met, but only briefly. Briefly, and yet it was awkward enough to last a lifetime. Clearing his throat, Hal hoped to shake that memory from his mind, only to remember that throats don't work that way.

"Are you any good at it?" he asked. It was a legitimate question, as Hal honestly had no idea whether or not Loki might be good with droids. Perhaps he didn't, and was just listing some new, lofty aspiration. Hal said he wanted to be a superhero, once, but that was a five-year-old talking; didn't mean he owned a cape and a mask.

Well, Hal did own a cape and a mask, but that was beside the point for his line of inquiry.

[Abarai Loki]

"Very good," Loki answered, without pause, "I've been repairing droids my whole life, or thereabouts. It was how I made myself useful on Maridun, besides the training and the hunting. I kept our few droids running, and then I used that skill to barter passage from Torque to Dantooine."

Talking about that period of his life was strange, especially the parts that came after Maridun. That world had been his entire world, and then, suddenly, there was a whole galaxy to explore where everything was new. He barely recognised that self-assured, and yet utterly naive, little boy in himself anymore. And the last thing he wanted to do was linger on his history, so a quick change of subject was in order. He nodded at the tracker in Hal's hands.

"Anything?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Nothing new," Hal shrugged. "Looks like we just follow this little ravine for a while. Probably the same path taken by whoever put whatever it is wherever they put it, however long ago they put it there."

Despite the lack of information contained within so verbose a response, the Nehantite did not appear worried or hesistant, simply putting one footpaw in front of the other on the soft, low grass by the stream bank. The prospect of finding treasure or some ancient artifact should have consumed his imagination to its fullest, a manifestation of childhood dreams after watching cheesy holovision movies or reading books of his peoples' lore, but all the gold or jewels in the universe might as well be dust compared to the thought of losing his best friend to the wide world beyond. He'd said he'd go with Loki, off-world, but in his heart he already knew that wouldn't be possible. Not because the Jedi would stop him, or that it would be difficult to sneak onto some transport, but because if Hal accompanied Loki, Loki might never truly find himself after all. One simply could not gain perspective on their life with someone watching over them and showing them the way. No, for all his good intentions, Hal knew Loki must go alone. The road to the Pit was paved with good intentions, it was said.

Paved with good intentions? That cannot possibly be up to the highway code. What city would approve that? You should pave with asphalt, duracrete or bricks or something. Good intentions are intangible.

Oh for Garfife's sake, shut up. You choose the wrong moments to be curious, I swear.

[Abarai Loki]

For his thick word stew, Hal received a mildly incredulous glance. "Well put."

It was typical of Hal to make a garrulous meal of something so simple, often a misguided stab at humour or an excuse to be sordid (often, both), this time, however, there was a certain poetry to the way he chewed on his words that reflected the bloated foolishness of their quest. A thing that was possibly somewhere, in the middle of nowhere, from a long time ago. Loki renewed his pace, adding length to his stride. The more he thought about it, the more he needed it to be real, to be important.

Water rolled and tumbled over rocks, frothing and gurgling in its descent. Ahead, an ancient rotten tree lie sprawled across the stream, half anchored by thick roots buried under rocks. The path on the other side was more agreeable, and lead deeper into the ravine. Loki dug his fingers into the bark and climbed. Soon he was making his way across the tree trunk, arms extended for balance. A fine mist rose up from the boiling water, like a shimmering veil, depositing cool droplets on his face. Under the blazing sun, it was the sweetest sensation, and, for a heartbeat, he closed his eyes. He felt so light he could've floated, but instead, he made the leap that saw him safely to the other side.

"Keep up, old man."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

In the handbook of how to be Halajiin Rabeak, there existed a great many rules of conduct. None were numbered, thankfully, making it tricky to catch him up when he misremembered something, and most of them contradicted with at least one other rule, but there did happen to be one perfectly suited to the situation Hal found himself in.

"Whenever you are able to do so, show off. Your friends will admire you and the ladies dig it." It would probably be rule 19 or so, as the honestly useful rules were often the later ones to be established, and once you hit ten you found yourself thinking harder about what to add to your list.

Be it rule 19, 9, 999, or eleventy-three, the important thing was that he had been presented with the opportunity to show off, with the added bonus of an opening for a comeback line.

Loki took to the tree like some sort of pink, sweat-stinky ape with the occasional tent in its trousers, making a fine display of agility, strength, ingenuity and balance. A commendable performance indeed, and Hal surely would have given some kind word of congratulation on so deft a crossing were he not preparing to make it all look like child's play. On the opposite shore from Loki, the Nehantite stood, eyes cast down to the flowing, babbling water, before hooking his thumbs into the straps of his pack as if they were a pair of suspenders, and he took a sure step forward, directly into the stream.

Or, onto the stream, as it were. His bare footpaw did not sink into the water, instead finding firm purchase upon its surface as he strode with no apparent haste or discomfort across the rippling, fast-flowing waters. Step after step, sure as if he were walking on duracrete, until at last he reached the other side, smiling. "No need to hurry when a leisurely stroll gets you there all the same," he replied as if he had done nothing out of the ordinary whatsoever.

[Abarai Loki]

From the other side of the stream, Loki watched, arms folded, like a weary father clinging to his last shred of patience. In truth, he'd seen it coming, from the moment Hal hooked his thumbs into his straps it became obvious - his entire body adopted an impossible kind of swagger, despite his best efforts to appear casual - it was there, in the slight curl of his lip and the sway of his tail. How pleased he must have been with himself. And what he wanted, more than anything, was a reaction: applause, a gasp, exclamations of wonder and disbelief. There was Halajiin Rabeak, and he was walking on water! Except Loki had seen him perform far greater feats before, and he was not about to pass up an opportunity to snatch the wind from his sails. So he gave a typical arch of the eyebrow, and walked on.

"There are some places in the galaxy, Halajiin Rabeak, where that is considered blasphemy. Whatever next? Pissing on a holocron?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Nothing? No smile, no head-shaking? No "Duuuude, how'd you do that?" Supremely unfair. According to Rule 19, Loki should have been impressed! Hal would have to consult his rulebook later for any possible clauses or exceptions.

Footpaws touching down on solid ground once more, he easily caught up with Loki thanks to his long stride.

"Ew, no," he shook his head. "You might wank to the thought of Akasha licking milk off your chest, but there are some fetishes which are too extreme even for me."

[Abarai Loki]

"I don't-!" Loki fired up at once, and just as suddenly killed his objection. While it was true that Akasha did indeed prowl through some of his more private thoughts, there was far more scope to his imagination than Hal was giving him credit for; he was not some depraved pervert with an obsession for felines and dairy products - his appetites were healthy, and natural! However, to breath further life into the discussion was akin to fanning the flames of his own funeral pyre. There was no victory to be had here, moral or otherwise.

Instead, he raised his eyes to horizon, and twisted his pink face into a ponderous frown.

"I will surely miss this great philosophical discourse of ours."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"But not as much as you're gonna miss Akahsa and her sandpaper tongue," Hal smirked. If he couldn't get a reaction with impressive, gob-smacking Force mastery, he'd have to settle for teasing a horny teenager. It really was the simple things in life that brought the most pleasure.

"Aw, come on, man, you're leaving for who knows how long? I gotta rib you while I can, dude." The profession came accompanied by a paw intent on messing up Loki's already-disastrous hair, ruffling it as he chuckled. To think that this was the same hair that used to be so perfectly styled, who'd have thought it could have come to such a state of wild chaos. Meanwhile his own headfur appeared defiant against the wilderness, naturally falling into is usual part, the longer flop at the front bouncing jovially as he walked as it always had, ever as carefree as the man who bore it.

The beep which belched from his scanner interrupted further joking as both adventurers stopped to consult it. The pale green screen danced and squirmed with visible disgust as its map contorted, blinked, sheared and re-set, updating with new data from one of the few satellites which orbited Ossus. Several seconds of blank screen with the loading wheel later, a new map and route generated upon the screen, but it was the "time to destination" which not only grabbed attention, it reached out with steely arms to put the pair into a joint headlock of mesmerization.

"Time to destination: One hour, three minutes."

Hal looked up from the device, meeting Loki's eyes. No words needed to be said, both understanding exactly what it meant. The ground churned beneath their feet, mosquitoes whipping against their faces as they ran. It was a race!

[Abarai Loki]

The sudden and dramatic change of pace stirred in Loki a deep reservoir of energy he hadn't realised had been there. In the afternoon heat, he'd been reduced to the sort of leisurely creature even a Hutt would call sluggish. Now, his old self was being lashed away in ribbons by the whipping wind, and, rejuvenated, he cut through the thick haze like a blade. On his back, his pack jostled violently, and tugged at his shoulders, but he was undeterred - he was going to win.

Departing the path, where stones tumbled and yellow dust leapt from under their feet, he went to the edge of the ravine. Here, the stream, that had so long been their travelling companion, tumbled in a great white column onto the rocks below. Loki jumped. Only a wall of adrenaline stopped the instant rush of regret from becoming full-blown panic, as he discovered he'd miscalculated his fall. The lower ledge he'd been aiming for crumbled away prematurely, and, as he sailed past, he reached out for the only thing that stood between him and a watery grave. The thick vines were slick, and squeaked like wet glass as he tightened his grip. Unable to arrest his own momentum, Loki pancaked against the cliff wall, and winced at the scraping of rock against his shins and knees.

He was still falling, and the vines would slow him no further. With a twist, he spotted an outcropping path, winding down the face of the ravine on the opposite side. It was his last chance.

"Nrrrgh!"

His boots launched him from the stone in a graceful arc, and at its apex, he somersaulted. On and on, he fell, gaining momentum, until in his ears, the whistling wind became a roar. And then:

"Urgh!"

He landed with a roll. Fortunately, for every bone in his body, the heavy pack bore the brunt of the fall, and he quickly found his feet. A glance back revealed he'd dropped about 100 feet, which meant, he realised with some satisfaction, he'd just shaved off an untold distance of tedious meandering footpath. One hour, three minutes, indeed. High above, he saw Hal silhouetted against the sun. His voice rang out, resounded from walls of the ravine.

"Like I said before: keep up, old man!"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Slow and steady wins the race, Hal told himself. Especially when they have a plan to totally cheat near the end, but that was neither here nor there as Loki vanished over the edge of the ridge before him. Pebbles, dust and scree burst forward as his bare footpaws skid to a stop just at the edge, Hal peering down at the fall beyond.

It took some time for him to spot Loki, standing well below, yet covered in new dirt, dust and vegetation. Hal simply shook his head. "I am up, compared to you!" he called down, laughter in his voice. It would be easy enough to leap down and catch himself in a slowfall, but a climb back up would be tedious to say the least. The bundle of climbing rope which had gone unused thus far the entire journey seemed delighted to make its guest appearance in their adventure, appearing as flying red serpent with scales of blue fleck as it was thrown out over the edge of the ridge, only to fall down and smack against the surface, secured by a pneumatic piton at the top. A sharp tug tested its security before Hal launched himself over the edge in as bro of a swandive as was possible, executing a somersault upon his way down, only to cushion his landing with a slowfall.

There was no need to brush dust from himself, yet Hal did anyway, lightly dusting off his shirtfront and shoulder. "It's always important to have a way back out whenever you go in somewhere," he smirked, nodding back toward the rope. "Now, what's this you were saying about... keeping up!"

The gleaming white grin of Hal's teeth seemed to float upon he air as a brilliant after-image as he took off with a burst of speed. Canyon walls hemmed the pair in, allowing only one secure path to their target, so any form of late-game tricks had just gone out of Hal's window like so many dates the Jedi never knew about back in his Temple days.

[Abarai Loki]

"You forget yourself, Halajiin Rabeak."

Loki was beside him, keeping pace. The narrowing path forced them close, and he was reminded of a day so long ago, when they ran side by side through the tight and meandering corridors of the Whaladon. Sure enough, Hal's technique had improved since then, but he was a fool to think he had a chance of winning. Nobody was faster than Abarai Loki!

"Soon enough, you will be wheezing like an old woman. Will you expect me to carry you?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

If there was one thing his solitary lifestyle had afforded Hal over the past six months, it was time to work out, and his endurance had been high on the Nehantite's list of priorities. But even Hal had to concede that there was no way on Ossus he was going to defeat Abari Loki in a foot race. At least not without cheating.

Ingenuitive race mechanics, I like to call it.

His bare footpaws bounding over the short grass and dusty stones, blunt clawtips digging in for traction, Hal grinned at Loki's attempt to goad him on. "How can you carry me when you can barely carry your backpack?"

Oh, sometimes it was good to be a Jedi. Force manipulation made daily life so much more interesting, and provided ample ways to chea-... insert ingenuitive race mechanics. Locating Loki's pack in the Force, Hal decided it should suddenly feel as if it weighed five hundred pounds, as he force-yanked it back and to the ground, its carrier along with it.

[Abarai Loki]

"Oof!"

The fall hit him like a gut punch, forcing the last breath from his lungs. For a heartbeat, his legs continued to kick feebly at the air until his body adjusted to his surprising new orientation. And then he rolled onto his side, wheezing like an old woman. There was no give in his shoulder straps, so he slipped himself free while he recovered. The sound of fading laughter prompted him to fire a scowl so murderous in Hal's direction that it was a miracle the mongoose Jedi didn't fall down dead in an instant. Loki would sooner spend the rest of his days as a Nabooian water dancer than see Halajiin Rabeak get the better of him with such an unworthy trick. And, if there was any justice in the galaxy, he would win by a country mile.

But Hal was getting away!

Galvanised into action, Loki pulled at a shoulder strap and nearly put his back out. No. He pulled again, this time with two hands, and found his pack was unnaturally anchored to the ground. No no no! He propped a foot upon a rock, and heaved, but it might as well have been a mountain he sought to move. A cry of frustration rang out, and he spat curses at the vanishing sight of Halajiin Rabeak.

"Hal! You uncouth treacherous little furball! I'll have your tail for a scarf!"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The ability to manipulate an item through the Force depended upon multiple factors for Hal. First, how complex was its molecular makeup? The more uniform the structure, the easier it was to manipulate, making the nylon of Loki's pack an easy target. Second, how far was it from himself? At close range, especially within sight, it was child's play, once again making Loki's pack a breeze to locate and focus upon, but the farther Hal sprinted away from it, the more difficult it became to maintain focus. And third, distractions. Were Hal standing or sitting somewhere, able to spend all his thoughts on what he was manipulating through the Force, Hal could keep it up for a lengthy period of time, but as he found himself dashing over uneven ground, his attention was split between his course and his actions, growing more difficult with each step.

Once beyond a hundred yards from Loki and his magically heavy pack, Hal let his concentration lapse, and all returned to the way it should be - with Hal in the lead. His friend's words rang from the canyon walls, but Hal just laughed back, "Not until you're older!"

[Abarai Loki]

The parting comment had Loki's face scrunched in bewilderment: it scared him how Hal's mind worked sometimes. All the time. With a snort of contempt, he returned to his battle with the backpack, and heaved. His backpack went airborne, and it was with considerable effort Loki prevented himself from falling on his backside. Its contents clattered and clanked as he pulled it on, and set off again.

The Force gave him strength, and as he ran, it flowed through him like a water, pooling in his muscles. His boots pounded the ground like the hooves of some swift and powerful beast, the rush of air was cool against his face, and just as the small figure of Halajiin Rabeak came into view, it disappeared. Ahead, the way was obscured by tumbling vines, and fountains of broad ferns that draped themselves across the chasm in thick curtains of green. The ravine was plunging deep below the forest line.

Inside, the air was heavy with the scent of wild blossoms that flowered pristine white overhead, and down the closing walls of the canyon. The stream, which had once dissected the ravine like a fierce, throbbing artery, had become nothing more than a merry ribbon of liquid silver, that weaved its way between rocks and plants alike. Loki paused for an instant to consider it. Where had all the water gone? And, for that matter, where was his treacherous companion?

"Hal?" he called.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

If Hal had beaten Loki to the verdant grove, there remained no trace of the Nehantite. Instead there was only a pocket of Eden among the harsh landscape which on Ossus could qualify as a treasure in its own right. Delicate, fragrant blossoms emerged from protective green stalks and blades, their gossamer petals fluttering in even the most gentle of breezes. The air itself was cool and inviting, begging Loki to stay, to enjoy himself in the water-garden's bosom.

From the heart of the greenery came the voice of a woman, not speaking, but singing in a soft, lilting series of notes, her song seeming to have no words but instead comprised solely of beautiful, soothing vocalizations. A ripple formed upon the slow, almost glass-smooth surface of the remaining stream, then a bulge, and from it emerged a humanoid head made soley of the clearest, most perfect water. Female in features, her hair fell in wet strands down her back as she climbed from the stream, rising from it with a form so perfect and beautiful that even Hal's nudie mags would be jealous. She was nude, with full, round breasts, a slender waistline, and broad, sensual hips. An arm outstretched as she approached Loki, still singing her song, and she smiled at him as she drew near, walking slowly upon the surface of the water, the light glinting and gleaming through her perfect liquid form.

The water woman winked at Loki with a smile, her hand rolling over to allow one finger to beckon him to her bare, liquid bosom. Surely this had to be the treasure listed on the map!

[Abarai Loki]

In the solitude of the grove, the sudden and inexplicable sound of singing was downright eerie. Perhaps, Loki thought, the area was strong with the Force and this was how that power manifested itself. After all, the artefact couldn't have been far.

Loki was already pushing onward when he noticed the movement in the water. He stood stunned by the sight of the emerging figure, and as she rose, his eyebrows followed, attempting to climb to the top of his head. The existence of Ghosts was something with which Loki had made peace some years previous, however, this was something else entirely. His eyes could scarcely believe what they saw. And when she approached, Loki retreated.

"Now, wait..." he managed, feebly, a hand held aloft. Even in retreat, he studied every glistening curve with ferocious commitment, and was powerless to stop his gaze travelling south. His mouth fell open. In his wildest fantasies, he'd never have been able to conjure up such a vision of perfection, why, it would take the imagination of...

The horror struck Loki as he stumbled backwards over a rock. And from his place in the underbrush, he closed his eyes, and muttered, "Hal... does your depravity know no bounds?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The water woman recoiled in shock, raising a glistening hand to her mouth as she made a silent gasp while Loki fell. Then the song resumed as she advanced once more, extending both hands to him.

From the side of the water growth, the water was disturbed and Hal's muzzle broke the surface with a roaring gasp for air. Attempting to haul himself out of the water, only one paw could break free from its grasp as he shouted, wide-eyed. "Loki! Run!" And then the water formed over him once more, shoving the Nehantite back down into its depths.

Her cover blown, the water woman's soft, sensual visage flared quickly into a monster, with pointed fangs, wild eyes, and her fingernails turned to talons as she lunged forward at her prey.

[Abarai Loki]

As suddenly as she had transformed, the hellish water nymph exploded into a million tiny droplets, that vanished like a thin mist across the stream. Loki watched the water for an instant, half expecting the dazzling droplets to reassemble themselves before his very eyes. To his temporary relief, nothing happened. Now to save Hal...

From the moment the creature changed, all thoughts of spirits, and nudity, and all activities pertaining to spirits and nudity were buried beneath one singular instinct: survival. Loki donned it like well-worn armour. He scrambled to his feet and ran to the water's edge where, sure enough, just beneath the surface, he found Hal lazing with his hands behind his head as if he were trying to get a tan.

The pristine water erupted from Hal, who sat up and, in turn, also erupted, but with laughter. Perhaps, Loki thought, as he closed his eyes, if he believed hard enough that he was elsewhere, it just might happen.

"Halajiin Rabeak, there is something seriously wrong with you."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Invisible beneath the water streaming down his features, Hal was crying with laughter. "Bwa ha ha! Oh man! Oh, you should have seen the look on your face! Haaaa ha ha ha!"

His paw slapped the water, throwing spray everywhere as he climbed to a stand, revealing the water to be merely two feet deep at the very most. "Oh, ha ha ha! That was just perfect! I can't believe you fell for that!" A glance down at Loki's loin resulted in another fit of laughter.

"Loki likes the water baaabe! Loki likes the water baaaabe!" He found himself reciting the old schoolyard chant as he ruffled the water out of his headfur, then gave himself a good, solid shake dry. The spray was so intense that a rainbow formed within it beneath the late afternoon sun.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki's hands moved swiftly to conceal the small mountain of shame that had risen up in rebellion against him. And, in anticipation of the inevitable spray, he retreated from Hal with an awkward shuffle. From his safe distance, he watched the howling lunatic rejoicing his moment of triumph, and contemplated at weary length the absurd tragedy that was his life.

"You have heard the tale of the boy who cried 'Vornskyr,' have you not?" He said at last, mustering what scant dignity remained. His gaze took root amongst the tree tops, "The next time you appear to be in danger, do not expect me to come running ."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Unless it's an especially sexy vornskyr, right?" Hal chuckled. "Couldn't resist, dude, I couldn't resist."

Another good shake flung droplets all around, and Hal leanded down to pick up his personal music player, shutting off the source of the singing. That pocketed, he pushed on to the side of the little oasis, where he ticked a playful wave of his paw in Loki's direction, then hopped one foot to his left and vanished down into the undergrowth entirely.

A moment later his head popped up, grinning. "C'mon! There's totally a cave down here!"

[Abarai Loki]

Loki did not believe Hal about the cave until he was sat in the underbrush with his feet dangling into it. Clutching handfuls of dry reeds, he eased himself inside until it was safe to let go. Even then, when his feet met the uneven stone floor, it took considerable effort to not stumble under the weight of his cumbersome backpack. The sudden clatter of pots sparked a round of staccato reprisals deep into the dark belly of the beast. A breathe of air greeted him, cool and wet against his skin - it was a welcome change from the stifling heat above.

"Do you suppose this is it?" Loki said. His lightsaber blossomed bright in his hand to keep the shadows at bay. "If I were to hide a- well, if I were to hide anything around here, this would be the place."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The cave went down far faster than it did in, likely having started as a sinkhole before the flowing water turned it into some form of underground river, eating away at the limestone with ease to create caverns and chambers which stretched far into the blackness beyond. Hal's pack remained unslung near the entry, as he doubted they'd be going so far as that he'd need it again before they left the cave.

"I'll agree with you there," Hal nodded. From his pocket he pulled an eyepatch, and he tugged it on over his right eye, leaving only his left exposed. The world switched immediately to black and white, his left eye never having regained color vision after the damage done to it in carbonite freezing. That same damage had allowed him to see infrared light, and so by the glow of Loki's saber, the depths of the cave unfurled to him, leaving him standing still with shock.

"Woah..." he said, his voice fighting for an echo above the sound of rushing water. "Yeah, this is definitely where I'd hide something. Awesome."

Taking a moment to grab a flashlight from his pack, Hal led the careful charge into the cave, which had presumably been there for tens of thousands of years, based on the formation of stalactites overhead, likely formed by moisture rising from the underground river. "I wonder what we'll find. And I wonder how they found this cave in the first place."

[Abarai Loki]

"The same way we did, I expect."

Lightsaber high, Loki watched the shadows move amongst the stalactites like so many clashing swords. The dramatic rock formations betrayed a long life untouched by civilisation, they bled water in solitary droplets that shimmered in the light like tiny sapphires. Loki stiffened at the icy kiss of water upon his neck, and shuddered as it slipped unhindered down the length of his spin. He followed Hal deeper into the cave, towards the roar of unseen water and the answer to the mystery of the vanishing stream. It appeared before them, a furious boil of white, surging over rocks and plunging deep into the abyss. Here, the cave divided into two directions: to the place where the water began, and the place where it was going. The explorers were only interested in the latter course, and followed the water deeper underground.

Something buzzed in Loki's pocket. He dug out the small metal disc from the crashed ship. Where it had once been unremarkable, its ancient symbols were now aglow.

"Hal, I think we're close."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal lifted his eyepatch and swapped eyes to see the disc in full color, a faint blue to the symbols. "Man, what kind of battery does that thing have in it that lasts this long?" he asked. It was a stupid question, as the answer would have no bearing on what they were currently in the cave for, but it was a curiosity nonetheless.

Eyepatch moving back to his right eye, Hal studied the depths beyond. "That, uh, goes a long way. There's a bend down there I can't see around. I left my rope back at that cliff; are you sure enough of your footing to head down that way? We're going to have to come back up it, after all."

Of course, he was talking to Abari Loki, one of the most physically adept Jedi of the lot, and the one who would never back down from a challenge, but it still seemed polite to offer a way out if he so desired it. Flexing his bare, still-wet toes on the rocky surface beneath him, Hal took a deep breath and headed down first, only then realizing that Loki was behind him, with a lit lightsaber which threatened to come downstream with lethal flailing from its owner should Loki slip. Perhaps not the smartest idea, but it was far too late to do anything about it now. The curiosity of what may lay in wait for them was too strong to Hal to resist, so down he went, having to step into the current as the path along its bank disappeared.

[Abarai Loki]

With one last sweep of his lightsaber, Loki thumbed the activation panel, and plunged himself into darkness. Below him, Hal negotiated his descent with confidence, allowing the pale beam of his flashlight to lead the way. Loki needed his hands more than he needed light, and what little light remained was nothing but a distraction. He closed his eyes and reached out; the Force was the whetstone of his senses. Where the average Joe flailed cudgels at the dark, Loki sliced through shadows with a scalpel. His footing was sure, and his fingers worked nimbly at the rock all the way down. Were he to fall, it was not a sheer drop he faced, but rather, a blind bludgeoning, for what the passage lacked in verticality, it made up for in its narrow treacherous walls.

In places, the rock was slippery from the encroaching water, and, more than once, he had to probe deep inside the icy surge just to find purchase on something solid beyond. By the time they reached the bottom, Loki was half-deaf from the roar of water, but it was the sudden tranquility of the cavern in which they found themselves that was truly deafening. Eyes open, he relied upon his lightsaber to once again pierce the gloom. Its fierce blue light poured deep into the pool, and reflected in dancing rippled along the walls.

"I did not expect this."

"Expect this... expect this... expect this..." Replied the cavern.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Rule 19 was Rule 19, compelling Hal to show off, and if he didn't obey the rules surely the universe would be thrown into chaos. Or into a bin. Or perhaps thrown into a handbasket for a lovely trip to somewhere quite warm. In any case, the universe would benefit from not being thrown in any direction, and so Halajiin Rabeak obeyed the rules.

Thanks in part to his damaged eye, Hal's simple flashlight provided enough light for him to see the ground below beyond the sudden waterfall. Unlike the tight, nearly V-shaped passage they had just come through, it was broad, flat and round, seemingly endless in its stretch into the dark. Loki chose to go first, and Hal tracked his movements as the young man scrabbled down the nearly vertical face like a spider-monkey - one of the more dangerous insects in the jungles of Kuf - and waited for him to be near the bottom before allowing his own footpaws to launch himself clear of the edge and freefall.

Damp fur vibrating in the rushing wind as if it were in the path of some great dryer, Hal fell, rushing past his friend before throwing a paw out and cushioning his fall to a graceful touchdown by means of the Force. He imagined it would look good on holofilm, and if he was to make a movie or series about the Jedi, he'd have the main characters doing it in practically every episode, maybe even more than once.

Footpaws touching down on the smooth stone below, Hal aimed his flashlight while Loki re-ignited his saber, casting a tidal wave if infrared light off of its plasma core and illuminating the chamber bright as day for the Nehantite. Hal simply stood there, slack-jawed as he took it all in. The ground was indeed limestone, eaten away over millennia by the nothing more than water, which acted as a mild acid to the soft stone's chemical composition. This area had likely been a natural pocket where the incoming water could pool, eating down, down and down while the channel above moved too quickly to dissolve in the same manner. Still, stalactites clung to the arched ceiling overhead, while the short stumps of their stalagmites had begun to form on the ground below, some half-eaten by the very water which had caused them to form. The air itself was a contradiction, both cool yet humid, and Hal breathed it in with wonder.

"Loki, I wish you could see what I'm seeing, right now," he said in a whisper, the remnant echoes of which were lost in the din of the waterfall's own echo.

[Abarai Loki]

"Can you see the artefact?"

If not, he didn't care. The last part went unsaid, but the sentiment weighed heavy, like a weariness, upon his words. For days, they had travelled, and his patience was down to its last thread. He wanted answers. The disc, pulled from his pocket, was glowing brighter than before - that was at least encouraging. Loki considered his surroundings, as much as he could make them out, and the more he considered them, the less likely he thought it would be that a great Jedi artefact was buried beneath the earth, in some damp cave. Unless, he thought, a temple or library were too obvious a place to protect something so important. His mind swam with the possibilities, both good and bad.

"It glows brighter when I turn in this direction."

Loki faced the small lake at the heart of the cavern, studying the disc as if it were a compass. A trek around the outskirts of the cavern would take them to the other side. It was the long way around, but - Loki dipped his fingers into the eerie blue water, it was freezing cold - it was by far the more preferable option. He pointed.

"Can you make anything out over there?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Fantastic treasure or not, Hal didn't care so much. The journey had been wonderful, the simple act of traveling with a friend would be one he'd never forget. For all it mattered to him, he was more than willing to go home empty-pawed. That said, going home with a pack full of treasure was even better, so he strained his left eye to look beyond the small lake to the other side.

"Um, hard to tell, it's kinda far," he replied. His fingers pulled up the patch over his right eye, but that only made things seem darker, so he slipped it back into place. Careful steps brought him right to the edge of the pool, and he leaned forward, his damp tail sticking straight out back for balance. "There's a bit of a rise over there, maybe something's on it. That'd be our best shot, since this floor probably got deeper since whatever it is was put down here. Looks like we get to go for a swim."

Wasting no time, he peeled his still-wet tee shirt off, letting it slop down onto the floor, and began working at his belt buckle.

[Abarai Loki]

"It's-"

The warning was snatched off the tip of his tongue before it took flight. Loki froze, struck by the realisation that he had an opportunity. It struck him like ice water to the face. And, in the time it took for him to take a breath, he had formulated a strategy. His lightsaber became a beacon, planted upright on a nearby rock. He met Hal's gaze.

"It's a fair distance. Let us make it... interesting."

Whereupon, Loki cast off his backpack and started to disrobe, in keeping with the facade. His eyes drifted across the water.

"Last to the other side collects all the firewood on the return journey."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's ears perked at Loki's initial objection, and he used his paws to hold the fly of his pants closed as he glanced about for some previously unseen danger. But as it turned out to be a wager, the Nehantite grinned, his smile nearly luminous in the dark.

"A race, you say?" he chuckled, laughter echoing through the broad chamber. His pants were shed with practiced speed. "You're on!"

Any further time wasted would be time allowing Loki to catch up. Hal had barely beaten him to the rock in the middle of the lake at the start of their adventure, but it had worn him out to do so. Giving the speedy, athletic human any form of am edge simply wouldn't cut it, and so Hal executed the quickest of hop-steps before diving into the underground lake with uncannily excellent form.

Less than two seconds later he emerged in a disaster of flailing limbs, and howling. "COLD!" the word rang with sharp frequency through the chamber. "Cold cold cold!"

Splashing and crashing through the shallows, Hal lunged back onto dry land, violently shaking free the icy water which had soaked into his fur and throwing it in chilling spray everywhere. "Garfife, that water is freezing!"

[Abarai Loki]

Loki, having abandoned any pretence of undressing, regarded Hal with meticulously measured indifference. Following the splash and the outrageous howl, Loki's face pulled itself into an expression of almost irrepressible satisfaction. In the scarce seconds he had prior to Hal's return, it had taken a monumental effort to right himself. He studied the water, shaping lines of forced scrutiny onto his face.

"Cold?" He repeated. His gaze returned to Hal, and tracked south, "So it would seem."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Drops of icy, liquid torture fell from spiky strands of Hal's bare fur, while his face tightened into a mask of pure, unadulterated loathing. "Well, only one good way to warm back up," he growled.

In an instant made even shorter by liberal application of the Force, Hal shot forward, his arms snapping around Loki like the jaws of a steel trap as he snatched the young man up into a cold, wet, bear-hug against the naked Nehantite, who began to laugh at his prize.

[Abarai Loki]

In the instant it took for Hal to eliminate the distance between them, Loki had to make a choice. His instinct was to defend himself - Hal looked furious, and was more than capable of hurting him. But then, a voice reasoned, could he really do that? It was a moment of hesitation that had cost him dearly, for now Loki found himself locked in a vice-grip of unwanted affection.

"No, Hal! You are soaking wet!"

No sooner had he spoke could Loki feel water's icy kiss through the fabric of his clothes. He wriggled furiously. His hands had been clamped ineffectually to his sides, but with some effort, he wrestled one free and immediately applied it to Hal's face and pushed. But, despite his firmest protestations, his voice cracked with amusement.

"Gerroff, you idiot!"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

There seemed no end to the giggling which escaped Hal's muzzle, even if it was warped into... gaggling? Geggling? Was there a word for a tone shift on a giggle? - by Loki's hand on his face, and Hal joyously shook Loki back and forth having lifted him off his feet. Hal's body could be felt shivering to the core, such was his chill, yet he possessed enough command of his faculties and limbs to know when it was time to let go, and he deposited Loki upon the ground once more before allowing himself another good shake.

"You totally deserved that," he laughed. "I thought you checked the water! It was, like, refreshingly cool, topside. How in Garfife's name it got so cold down here, I'll never know." As he spoke, his footpaws argued their way through already-damp trouser legs, and he bounced up and down to wriggle them fully on while he was still soaking.

[Abarai Loki]

"Perhaps, the absence of sunlight?" Loki skewered his companion with disbelief. He took a moment to consider his own Pyrrhic victory, "It was an opportunity I could not allow to go to waste. Deception does not come naturally to me, as you are aware, and, given the circumstances, I think I did rather well."

He finished with a nod. While Hal wrestled into the rest of his clothes, Loki took stock of his own sorry state: his entire front was now a shade darker than the back. It was a small price to pay for success. Blue light strobed the cavern walls as his lightsaber leapt into his open hand. And, under the familiar weight of his backpack, he resumed the march.

"I believe that was my first ever prank. Halajiin Rabeak, you should be honoured."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal slopped along behind him, each step slapping down with an echoing, wet smack against the stone, while a dark trail of drips and runoff remained in his wake like the path of destruction left by a giant holowood monster in a cardboard city. "If I catch a cold from this, I'll honor you upside the head," he groused.

With no sunlight to warm or dry himself, the soaked Nehantite shivered as he walked, arms crossed over his torso, rubbung his sides and stomach to generate some form of friction heat. Trekking around the underground lake certainly took longer than swimming across, but having a few seconds of full-body experience in the water, it was certainly the smarter plan. Leaving his pack near the cave entrance was even smarter still, as it appeared to be the only way back out, and he could walk unencumbered while Loki trudged before him.

Without a chrono, Hal couldn't be sure how long it had taken, though he estimated nearly a half-hour before the low platform he spotted came fully into view, and another five minutes before they approached it. There, sitting on the low ledge sat a squat, black box crusted with moss and lichen. Easing around Loki's saber, he held a paw out to stop his friend in his tracks. "Just a sec, I want to get a closer scan before we try and open it, in case it's booby-trapped, or something.

He he, booby trap. Boobies.

Hal shook his base natures from his mind as he approached with catlike step, both eyes uncovered to survey the ancient container. Like the disc, symbols on its front glowed, and Hal temporarily reached out in the Force to examine the makeup of the box, and briefly scanned its contents, though not so much as to ruin the surprise. Just because you could see into your birthday presents doesn't mean you should, after all. That was a lesson he'd learned well at the old Order. Well, at least it's a lesson he told himself, as no one ever gave him a birthday present at the old Order, but that was neither here nor there.

Kneeling before the box, Hal reached out to brush his paw over its surface, cleaning away dust, grime and loose moss. With a look back to Loki, he grinned widely. "Well, this is it. Do you know what this means?" he asked, trembling with just as much excitement as he was with cold.

"It means you have to get all the firewood on the way back, because I got here first."

[Abarai Loki]

The light of curiosity in Loki's eyes was snuffed out with a sneer, "Really?"

Dripping with disbelief, the word was delivered like a wet slap to slough away the wholly-inappropriate smugness. How could Hal joke at a time like this? The promise of discovery had presented itself to them in a gift box. Black with age, the metal had been otherwise unchanged by its long years, with no hint of weathering or rust to be found. Loki crouched beside it, and reached out. In texture, it sat somewhere between the smooth finish of onyx and the robust density of cast iron. It had been built to last, and lasted it had.

From his pocket, there came a sweet ringing sound. Loki unearthed the metal disc to discover its ornate markings no longer glowed, but burned with a searing white light. In its presence, the carvings on the box burned bright, too. On top of the box, there was a shallow circular recess that was shaped just so. Even a Gungan could figure it out. Loki placed the disc into the round cavity and turned it like a key. A ferocious grinding, of gears waking from a thousand year slumber, came from within. The carvings blossomed brilliance one last time and died, as the front of the box swung open with crushing normality.

The cool blue glow of Loki's lightsaber illuminated the box, and the contents within.

"What is that?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

So intense was the light from the markings on both box and disc that Hal had to move his patch back to his left eye, shielding its sensitive, damaged receptors and providing him color vision once more. The clanking, growling mechanism echoed through the lake chamber like the din of some ancient battle droid shambling onto the battlefield, until at last its face fell open to reveal the very prize the pair had searched so hard for.

Beneath the blue glow of Loki's saber and the piercing white light of Hal's flashlight, their treasure showed its face at last, to faces more confused than joyous. It could have been gold, jewels, or some priceless artifact which had been hidden away, its value so important that it needed such secrecy and so elaborate a locking mechanism. But inside gleamed no gold, sparkled no gems nor emanated awe of something historic. Instead there was the dull shine of painted plastic, red, black, with highlights of blue, sitting on an old and musty piece of folded cloth.

It was Hal who reached for it first, gently extracting the thing they'd spent the last week questing after, and he examined it beneath their combined lights. It was a toy, there was no way around it, a toy which had likely seen years of play by some child over a thousand years ago. A toy rocketship. Not the kind that most children in the galaxy know now as a model, but one of style and sleek fashion borne of time periods before races knew space travel as a reality. The kind of rocketship imagined by comic book artists and cheesy serial adventure movie makers. There was a charm to it, yes, but as both Hal and Loki stared at the thing, there was also an overwhelming sense of disappointment.

"It's a rocketship," Hal finally answered the question. Naturally the answer did not need to be given, but as the question had been posed Hal automatically decided that it ought to be rewarded with a response.

"We came all this way for a toy rocketship?" The incredulity in his voice was palpable, and he turned the thing over in his paws to inspect it for any hidden markings or secret compartments, even going so far as to shake the thing near his ear to detect anything which might be rattling about inside. Nothing.

"We came all this way for a toy rocketship." His words, while repeated, took on an entirely different meaning as a statement rather than a question, and though it was not what either of them had hoped to find, Hal could not repress the gentle smile which worked its way up his muzzle as he stared at the thing.

[Abarai Loki]

"No."

Hal was mistaken. Loki reached into the open box and searched for the rest of its contents. His fingers prodded every dark corner, swept over every flat surface, and grasped at thin air. This went on for some time.

"No." There was a note of desperation in his voice as he performed one last frantic sweep. Slowly, his hand was withdrawn. The box was empty. With a reluctance that felt like defeat, his gaze dropped to the plastic toy in his companion's hands.

"I don't understand."

The answer came in the form of a hologram. Atop the box, the little disc opened and from it escaped a column of blue light. In that light, stood a man. His clothes were all too familiar: smart tunic, long hooded robe, and flash of metal hanging at his hip. He was a Jedi, and he had a message:

"Well, you did it again. Congratulations. But, as you know, the real question isn't whether or not you could find the sacred artifact, but how long it took you to find it. Have you finally beaten my time? I highly doubt it! Come on home, buddy. There's a bottle of Corellian ale with your name on it."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The toy rocketship rested in Hal's paw, monetarily forgotten as the hologram played out, a hologram of a Jedi even older than himself. In that moment, all became clear. The tracker, the hidden location, the worthless "treasure." All of it fell in line in a beautiful, wonderous joke whose simplicity was so obvious that neither he nor Loki had even suspected it. A single laugh escaped his lips, then another, and two more before Hal burst out in riotous laughter, having to fall down to a seat to keep his balance. Each time it began to wane, he just looked at the toy again and it started all over until the chamber simply echoed with his hilarious joy.

"I, I don't think we beat his record!" He managed between guffaws.

[Abarai Loki]

Of all the reactions Loki might have predicted from his companion, laughter was the least expected. He stared at Hal, mystified. Whenever one fit of laughter started to subside, all it took was a single look at the rocketship, to start another one. Loki snatched the offensive thing from his hands and cast it aside.

"This isn't funny, Hal!"

Perhaps, this was what going insane looked like.

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Hey!" Hal snapped as the rocketship was so carelessly pilfered and discarded. His laughter stopped, replaced by a sulking frown as he stared at where the toy lay some five yards away. Pulling his eyepatch up, Hal regarded Loki with both eyes, and neither of them felt kind or forgiving.

"You don't get it, do you?" he said, the humor gone from his voice. "Of course it's funny. Why wouldn't it be funny? It's been a long gag and we just got served the punch line."

Climbing back up to his feet, Hal paced over to pick up the toy. He could have just as easily drawn it to himself through the Force, but the time and the action were necessary to Loki to better grasp the point he was trying to make. "Two friends challenged each other to find this thing. Sounds like over and over. It's not about the prize, it's about the adventure, Loki. And where these two could only tell each other about the trek they had to make to find it, once it was found, we got to experience it together. Wouldn't you say that time spent with a friend is a treasure beyond value?"

He examined the toy once more. "I would."

[Abarai Loki]

"You sentimental fool, Halajiin Rabeak."

Loki shook his head, regarding Hal with equal measures of pity and disbelief. So saccharine were his words that it was a wonder he hadn't found himself buried under a mountain of sugar.

"All the time we spent searching... days! Wasted! And for what? A shoddy trinket?" He stared daggers at the toy, and then, with added disdain, "A moral lesson!?"

He rose, suddenly, feeling quite ready to leave the hateful place. His departure turned into a stiff pacing, back and forth, grinding unspoken thoughts into palatable words.

"This was... I thought... it was supposed to be something important, Hal!" He stopped, rounding on his friend, "Something I could give back... before I left."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

The words stung Hal's heart like icy daggers, cutting him straight to the core. Shoulders slumping, the Nehantite closed his eyes and shook his head with a sigh.

"This is important," he spoke. "And sometimes it's not about giving something back as much as it is taking something with you."

Pink eyes opening, they looked upon Loki with a depth of pain and loss Hal seldom showed. "When you leave, those you leave don't know if you might ever come back, of if you'll be lost forever. And those who leave might not know that they'll never see their friends and loved ones again. But each one, the traveler and the one who remains have already given something to the other - the memory of their lives and their spirit. Imagine if one morning you woke up and a century had gone by. Would all the gold or gems in the galaxy have helped those you'll never see again? Or would their lives - and yours - be richer for having shared experiences together? I have nothing left of my old life, Loki. And soon, it may be that I never see you again, so damn it, you bet your ass this time together is worth more to me than anything someone should have shoved in a box."