The Calm

[Li Ho Fook]

Parking for light starcaft was plentiful on Nar Shaddaa. And it was also expensive. Rampant crime had its ways of driving up cost for private parking bays, leaving the main spaceports as the primary locations for most interstellar travelers to berth their craft, as it was a third the cost, and offered security for free. Though it did mean you were subject to random searches, which could mean delays for honest travelers, and high risk for smugglers. Li Ho Fook was no smuggler, though after sitting on a bench while official security scoured his craft, and interrogated him about his weaponry loadout, he wondered if paying the extra for private parking would have been worth it. Had it been just himself, on a job, most certainly.

But he was not there on a job, nor was he going to be by himself, and saving a few credits was a lesson he intended to teach his latest protege, one Abari Loki - or Igo Flax, as he was registered in the Bounty Hunters Guild database. It had been three weeks since Fook had dropped him off for solo work, on the "training wheels" grounds many bounty hunters cut their teeth on, and in that time Loki had managed to complete six jobs, and lost a seventh to the authorities. Better than Fook expected, to be honest, but it was still time for an evaluation, and a proper heart-to-heart with the budding new hunter.

"Yo, Flax-dawg," the Wah spoke after engaging his commlink. "Rent-a-cops done finished their sweep, ride's ready. Gate H-37."

Three weeks of occasional text messages, and Fook monitoring Loki's progress from guild terminals. Three weeks of being unable to help him, other than basic advice. In that time, Fook had managed two jobs of his own, the latter being intense enough as to warrant a breather, so this was a perfect time to catch up, and as soon as Loki got to the gate, they'd be off.

"WHAT DO YOU SUPPOSE HE'LL BE DRESSED LIKE?" Guan Yu's voice boomed over Fook's earpiece, making a fuzzy ear tick before the volume was turned down.

"Got me, G. Probably tryin' to look all hard, like something out of one of them badass holofilms." Fook replied.

"IT WOULD BE MOST AMUSING IF HE SHOWS UP IN A BLACK LEATHER JACKET, TIGHT DENIM PANTS, AND A BLACK TEE SHIRT. WITH SUNGLASSES, OF COURSE."

"Oj, of course," Fook nodded, then sighed. "He'd be, what, our fourth to do that?"

"FIFTH, ACUTALLY."

Another sigh and Fook got off the bench, getting in a good stretch before letting his tail lash about while he had the space to do so. "Why they always go for that look, G? I knew better than that, yo. Think you look all hard, but really you a damn cartoon." Shaking his head, the short Wah then straightened one of the gold chains around his neck, and glanced at his diamond-studded wrist-chrono. No need to check the laces on his sneakers. Playa knew when his kicks were hella fly.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki nursed a cup of stimcaf while he waited, and watched the world go by from his window seat inside Mother's Nest. It was a narrow cantina, perched high above the vertical city, and just across from the expansive starport. Here, the night winds howled in musical chorus, as they sailed between chasms of neon duracrete, and whistled under the solitary door at the end of the room. Though small, Mother's Nest bustled with traffic to and from the starport, providing respite to all manner of weary travellers, who were each taken under the firm but loving wing of the synonymous Mother, a rotund and robust service droid patched together of myriad spare parts. To his droid engineer's eye, she was equal parts a monstrosity and a miracle, not least of all in how she was able to bob daintily around her cantina on a single squeaking wheel. Service was fast, by necessity, and boisterous, by design; an uncompromising welcome to those new to the Smuggler's Moon, or a fitting farewell to those fortunate enough to be taking their leave.

He drank while drinking in the dismal panorama, a tangled cityscape thick with the shroud of night, interminably punctured by bejewelled spears of orange, violet, and electric blue. The sight was at unnatural odds with the rich aroma of stimcaf, such was the struggle of living on a planet with an 87 hour rotation, and after 3 weeks of midnight days and daylight nights, Loki's fickle human biology was yet to become accustomed to it. He wondered if one ever could. But then, there was so much more about Nar Shaddaa than its protracted day-night cycle to which he doubted he'd ever become accustomed. He likened his time on Nar Shaddaa to that on Jovan Station, if there had been about ten times as many people and they were all jumped-up on spice. Also, law, or rather the absence of it. Whether it was drink, drugs, gambling, or sex, Nar Shaddaa was a breeding ground for vices, and as a result, played host to addicts, thieves, thugs, and criminals of every stripe. In other words, it was a bounty hunter's playground.

For work experience, Loki saw the appeal. He was leaving Nar Shaddaa with an abundance of experience, ranging from the mundane capture of a Palliduvan hotel cleaner who had sticky fingers for jewellery, to a close shave with a Mirialan assassin, wanted for the murder of a ranking officer in the local military. The Rodian con-artist was the one that got away, but he only had himself to blame for that. Absently, he traced a finger over his knuckles, coarse with fresh scabs, and rubbed warmth into his hands against the night's chill. It would be remiss of him to deny he would miss this place, or at least some aspects of it. The inherent risk of the work was something he relished, and there was potential danger around every corner. It was the kind of unease in which he thrived, it kept him sharp, made him feel alive. As his thoughts drifted to the location of the nearest bounty terminal, a familiar voice broke his reverie. He pressed a finger to the commlink on his chest.

"I'll be there in five."

The stimcaf was finished in a gulp. Loki hefted an unglamorous duffel across his shoulder, careful to afford Mother room as she bore down on his empty cup, and left without a second glance. His mind moved faster than his feet, driving him onwards; towards Fook, towards the next job. He scarcely noticed the biting wind as he crossed the street to the starport, and checked himself through the various security gates with the automation of a protocol droid. When he finally arrived at Gate H-37, he was not a picture of denim and leather, as the 36th Chamber duo had speculated, instead he wore a frayed sand-coloured courseweave shirt over a white polyfibre undershirt, burgundy cargo pants reinforced with leatheris at the knees and thighs, a pair of synthleather boots with durasteel toe caps, and twin leatheris tool bandoliers. Were it not for the blaster holstered at his hip, he would not be out of place in an engineer's workshop. The same could not be said of Li Ho Fook, whose distinct sense of style, he felt, was quite in keeping with the gaudy aesthetic of the Smuggler's Moon. He greeted him with a nod.

"Li Ho Fook. It's good to see you."

[Li Ho Fook]

The promise of riches, decadence, or luxury, glittered overhead upon holomonitors, each one advertising the loosest slots in town, or... the loosest slots in town. They were empty promises, of course, each designed to lure idiots in, ply them with distraction or indulgence, before draining their wallet. And, once drained, the losers would be pushed out to make way for the next rube.

Li Ho Fook knew this as he had been that rube, once upon a memory. But what had cost him his savings, wound up costing those who crossed him their business, as he targeted anyone related to them, to make life on Nar Shadda even more of a living hell than it already was. Security workers? Here, they were typically ex-cons, or on false papers. Easy enough to discover and turn in. Drivers? Often dealing on the side, just needed to tail them and bust them once they'd make a connection. Housekeeping? The galaxy would be paranoid if they knew how many covert operatives worked in housekeeping, and there was always a bounty out somewhere on a covert operative. Over the course of four months, Fook pulled in ninety-seven bounties related to one casino alone, until their name had become so ruined that they packed up and closed their doors. And in the end, Li Ho Fook had enough money in his account to buy a small ship; some third-hand Squib light freighter. Nar Shadda had been hell, but in it he found his place, and his game. Naturally it was the perfect training ground for any greenhorns he took on.

A holomonitor flashed to an image of all manner delicious food to be found at a casino buffet, and Fook found himself tempted, before catching a glimpse of Loki's familiar face approaching. A smile worked up the wah's fuzzy face as he nodded back. "Yo, Flax-dawg, bring it here, G," Fook greeted him, raising a black-furred paw up to clap into a handshake. "Rockin' that undercover look. I dig it. G-Dawg thought you was gon' be all holofilm tough guy."

"YOU THOUGHT IT AS WELL," Guan Yu's voice crackled his earpiece's speaker.

Fook just chuckled, then ticked his head back toward his ship. "You wouldn't have been the first, feel me?" he explained as he walked. "I done read your reports, 'n I gots some knowledge to lay on you. But first, I wants t' hear how you thinks you done, playa." As he reached the threshold of the 36th Chamber, the diminutive bounty hunter stopped to slip off his sneakers, not wishing to sully the plush carpet within.

[Abarai Loki]

"My time here has been productive," he said, casting a warning shot of a glance across to Fook. It was a look that was tempered with warmth, as his unlikely mentor was fully aware that it was not in his nature to boast about his own accomplishments.

"Of seven missions, six were a success. Insofar as the bounties were concerned, at least."

He took a breath, and followed Fook up the boarding ramp. As if three weeks of inexhaustible tackiness had not been enough, the 36th Chamber stood like a monument, or rather a memorial, to good taste and restraint. The colours struck like blows to the head, and, with nary the wherewithal to mind his manners, Loki somehow managed to remove his shoes in a daze of electric orange and lime green. In recompense, the plush carpet felt delightful underfoot, and he was reminded at once that, in the company of Li Ho Fook, a headache was the price for comfort.

"There were lessons learned," he began, somewhat hesitantly, as he considered how best to at once summarise and critique his efforts. "For example, I am not naturally inconspicuous in company. I can dress the part, but the questioning, the conversation... It would be a fair assessment to say that there is a communication issue, and its not that I don't speak the same language, but rather it feels like I do not speak the same language."

He considered the colourful Wah for all of a half-second, "I expect you know precisely what I mean."

[Li Ho Fook]

"Are you by chance suggesting that I lack the ability to adapt my means of communication, and thus conversations I would hold whilst in covert actions would not carry the verisimilitude necessary for me to be accepted as a member of a different class or subculture?" Fook asked, his voice toned, timed, and pitched to replicate Loki's as best he could, and said it all with a straight face.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki blinked. Then, after a beat of silence, resumed:

"Not quite. I am suggesting that you already talk like half of the unwashed cretins on this wretched moon, and would consequently understand my difficulty in blending in with them."

In his performance, Fook had been angling for comedy, or surprise, or perhaps both. Of that much, he was sure. However, after three weeks of relative isolation, it was going to be difficult switching gears in time with his unpredictable social cues. Loki was going to have a rough time of it, but then, they had walked this walk before. Miscommunication was familiar territory for both of them.

"And, following my time here, I must admit it comes as absolutely no surprise that you are capable of adapting to environments and the people that inhabit them. From a master bounty hunter, I would expect no less."

His duffel was buried inside a large locker and sealed behind a panel of immaculate varnished hardwood. No mind was paid to the hiss of the retracting ramp, behind him. Instead his feet naturally found their way to the semi-circle of crushed velvet in the living area, and he folded into it. Strange. Compared to his dingy room above The Old Sail Barge, this was practically home.

"Youth is also a barrier. In some cases, quite literally, where the casino job was concerned. But then, I have always had to muscle through first impressions, in order to prove myself. Just never before as a bounty hunter."

Once again, he considered his diminutive companion, and all of the assumptions at which Nar Shaddaa's finest would arrive upon seeing someone like him for the first time.

"Perhaps that is something with which you can directly relate?"

[Li Ho Fook]

"Perhaps," Fook nodded. "But maybe not the way you thinkin', G."

The ship's inertial dampeners softened the sway and rock of the craft as it disengaged from the docking port, and lifted into the night sky. Fook deftly crossed the plush carpet to take a seat opposite Loki at the banquette. "See, you humans got that everywhere trick on lock, so it's easy for you to blend in. But, that shit cuts back, because everyone done knows what you looks like. Emotions be wicked simple to read, gender is mad basic. Age? Dawg, everyone knows how to age a human. But me?"

The wah leaned back in his seat as he felt the 36th Chamber begin to pitch knowing exit velocity was building. "Flax-dawg, ain't nobody knows what I am. I'm that mystery element, feel me? Sure, I can't hide in a crowd, I can't blend in. 'n peoples knows when they done seen me. But they don't know what they lookin' at. Playa, I could be young, old, male, female. Dag, yo, I could even be just some animal. This playa gets to be what he says he is, dig? It's all about that confidence, that swagger. It can work for you, too, if you push it."

Around them, the low hum of the artificial gravity mesh droned to life, signaling they had left atmosphere, and were heading out into the transit lanes. Glancing over at the massive holovision on the wall, Fook said, "Yo, G-Dawg, site seventeen."

Guan Yu's face appeared on-screen, dominating the wall as he grinned and nodded. "COURSE LAID IN, SIR! DO PREPARE FOR THE JUMP TO HYPERSPACE!"

"Yeah, yeah," Fook just waved him off, then leaned his head back against the crushed velvet of his seat's back cushion. "You, uh, might want to brace yourself, G," he then minded nodding at the table which stood between himself and Loki.

[Abarai Loki]

The appearance of Guan Yu, the bold and characteristically unorthodox visual representation of the ship computer, dredged Loki out of a veritable ocean of thought. Loud, bombastic, and bubbling with so much enthusiasm that it made a hyperspace jump sound like going on a grand adventure, it was a presence that chased away the spectre of the Smuggler's Moon. And, just as suddenly, it was gone. A blank screen, once more.

He, Loki then reminded himself. Guan Yu wasn't typically his cup of stimcaf. In truth, the fledgling bounty hunter found him a bit much, but he had also come to accept that "a bit much" was Guan Yu's default setting, and a wholesome and overwhelmingly positive character like that was a welcome change from the cynical gloom that came before. And, as promised, a tell-tale whine sounded throughout the ship, like a sharp intake of breath. Loki gripped the edge of the table just in time as the ship lurched, rocking them in their seats. Hyperspace. They were on the move again.

"That's a clever tactic," he said, eager to return to their conversation, "You are free to play against people's expectations, or you can even play to their prejudices. Soon, I will be a man and will be treated like any other human in the galaxy. You will never have such camouflage. Or privilege. Instead, you have... swagger."

The word felt strange, even as it took shape in his mouth. To hear himself uttering it was absurd. Though he closed his eyes and shook his head, there was a ghost of a smile.

"Remember the slicer job I told you about? Casico Dekat? At first, I pretended to be a potential buyer, interested in their tech, specifically for the Binspo, Lugjack, and Zinbiddle tables. I did my research. I can tell you everything there is to know about a lusty lever, a five-stripe backhander, or a Gammorrean twist. I even looked the part, too. Have you seen how teenagers dress on Nar Shaddaa? I literally glowed in the dark."

He scoffed in disbelief, and instinctively reached for a glass that wasn't on the table. Self-deprecation was a difficult habit to develop, but he was working on it. And he'd always practiced with a drink in hand. As he understood it, most well-adapted humans fostered a healthy sense of humour when it came to themselves. Loki recalled how ridiculous he looked in leathers of neon pink and blue, and expected it would make for a good story at his expense. Though, he hadn't quite summoned up the humility to take a holo still of himself looking like that. Maybe next time.

"Anyway, I screwed it up. The slicer saw through my act in an instant and ran. Luckily, I was faster."

[Li Ho Fook]

"Yeah, you was on him with the quickness," Fook replied. "But not so quick they done guessed you was tappin' into that Force shit."

"Then you used that speed again." Smiling, he rose from his seat to pluck a bottle and two glasses from the bar. The bottle itself was a pale, frosted blue, its contents a translucent shade of orange. The thin, semi-clear liquid was poured into each of the small glasses, though Fook did not push one across the table to Loki after taking his own seat. Instead he stared at him, his beady black eyes locked onto Loki's own, while the wah's face transformed into a mask of grim severity.

"You know the shit I had to do to cover for your pasty, hairless ass? You know how hard it is to falsify biodata in the registry? Dag, son, Your gang done saw that shit. You ain't some magical fuckin' adorable fuzzy space critter, you're a smooth-ass human! Humans don't move with that quickness! So guess what, home-slice? This playa had to mod your data to give you neural booster implants, and cybernetic leg actuators! And it's a damn good thing I did, because there was hits on your data afterward, from Nar Shadda! If you're undercover, you're all the way undercover, fool!" Fook snapped his words off, his fangs bared as his hackles raised. "Yeah, you banked that scum in the end, but you was damn near rumbled by your own jive! You know that point off you got on your report for that one? That was me, dawg! Now drink up!"

His fuzzy lips curled in a sneer, Fook shoved the glass forward, nearly sloshing its contents out, before grasping his own cup. Never once did his eyes leave Loki's.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki weathered the dressing-down with patience and restraint. It was, after all, Fook's prerogative to give critical feedback, though he hadn't expected such a suddenly impassioned outpour. Clearly, he felt it was warranted, as a reflection of the behind-the-scenes legwork he had to put in to keep him off the radar of would-be interested parties. Though something did not add up. He regarded the drink, thrust his way in a manner befitting a punishment, rather than a reward. It went ignored.

"You think I used the Force to chase down a slicer?"

His voice was low, and his words carefully paced, as if labouring under the weight of disbelief.

"Do you really believe I would compromise myself as a Force sensitive in front of a pack of drooling spice-dealers?" His eyebrows climbed, challenging Fook to consider his accusation, "If I have flagged-up on some kind of registry, it is not by my doing. In which case, I do appreciate the lengths to which you have gone to protect me. Truly. But, Li Ho Fook, with respect, I may be new to bounty hunting, but I have been wanted by the Empire my whole life. Do not insult me."

[Li Ho Fook]

"Wasn't no insult, G," Fook shook his head, though his eyes remained fixed. "It was a warning. Goin' off what I heard, it sounded like you moved like a demon. I know you was Jedi, so my mind makes that leap. Maybe you didn't use it. Maybe you just that flash. But it had me wondering, and if I'm wonderin', you bet your ass others is gonna be wonderin'."

Reaching across the table, the Wah pulled Loki's glass back, to tip its contents into his own. With no explanation, he lifted the double pour to his lips and tipped it back. Within an instant, that fuzzy face screwed up into a primal look of disgust and discomfort as he forced the mouthful down, then smacked his lips a few times as his tongue contorted inside his mouth as if attempting to repel the aftertaste.

As his tastebuds slowly backed down from their war on his senses, Fook leaned back in his seat once more. "But I feel you." His head slowly nodded. "Just, now you know you best come up with some reason why you've got them skills you've got. Gots to admit, most human teenagers don't fight like you, dawg."

[Abarai Loki]

"No human teenager fights like me."

Loki rose from his seat, and with a look of heavy-lidded disbelief, shot Fook's understatement out of the air. Considering the matter closed, he procured for himself a cup of chilled water from the mess area, and leaned against the counter.

"Guan Yu, please display for me the entry in the bounty registry, prior to Fook's amendments."

First, appeared Guan Yu, beaming with the affirmative, then he saw himself on the screen. The image attached to the file was recent, taken during his time on Nar Shaddaa; he recognised the clothing, and he recognised the bruising below his left eye. Next, he noticed the date the entry was posted. Nine days ago. The details were vague, but damning: "wanted for suspected criminal activities in the Industrial Sector," and "considered armed and dangerous," and finally: "suspect has been observed performing feats of speed and strength grossly in excess of species parameters. Potential Force sensitive - approach with extreme caution."

Loki drank deeply. His mouth was as dry as desert sand.

"Thank you," he managed, at last. The screen dimmed and his attention returned to Fook.

"Thank you," he repeated, "Were it not for your intervention, my time on Nar Shaddaa would've been spent much differently. And... now I realise it is I who is the one guilty of understatement."

He returned to his seat with some resignation.

"Beyond the unwanted attention, how did I perform? Do I have a future in bounty hunting?"

[Li Ho Fook]

The hunt master remained seated, his black eyes studying Loki, drinking in that revelation as Loki drank in his water. "G-Dawg, theater our boy's reports."

The massive holoscreen tiled itself with each of Loki's reports, ready to be opened and reviewed. But Fook didn't move, knowing the contents of each well enough. "Yeah, you've got a future in this line, son. Only missed one mark, not bad. Mad respect for taking some of the marks you did," he said. While Fook had provided Loki with a list of available bounties, it had been up to Loki to pick which ones he actually wanted from that curated list. "Some was your style, some was a stretch, and that slicer one? Dag, that was mad whack, but you hooked that jive. Game respects game, homie. Props to you on that one." The wah lifted his empty glass in salute.

"But, I think you done picked some, not to test your own skills, but to show me you could do it. That's some mad balls, yo. That said, dawg, you a hammer. You ain't no full toolbox, and if you go hard in on that shit you ain't got on lock, you gonna get straight ill. You buildin' bank, buildin' that rep. Keep at them hard-hitter gigs, you'll get that hype, feel me? And with that hype comes that real paper. Dawg, I do everything. But everything ain't for everyone. Everything means more spend, more time, fewer bounties. There's a reason top earn is from a hammer like yo-self, G. Hit hard, move fast, play that numbers game, and you'll be ballin' hella fly, feel me?"

[Abarai Loki]

Fook's summary was concise and astute. Variations of this conversation had been held before, perhaps at this very table; Li Ho Fook knew his trade, inside and out. He knew the business. And though he was but a layman, Loki could tell a voice such as his must carry weight, especially to be trusted with training rookies. So, whenever he spoke shop, so to speak, he hung off his every word. And when he was done, he gave a nod of understanding.

"Do you remember what I said to you about my intentions? I do not want to be a bounty hunter, I want to be the bounty hunter."

Aware fully of how such a statement may translate, he raised his gaze from the bottom of his glass, and met Fook with look of reassurance.

"This is not ego. I accept I may never surpass you, or any other, to become the greatest of bounty hunters. This is pragmatism. But I must always aspire to surpass you, and everyone else, in every way I can. I wish to perfect every skill, and hone every instinct to a razer's edge. I want to possess the knowledge, the experience, the tradecraft of the very best in the business. Do you understand?"

Before the bounty hunter could answer, he was on his feet, pacing with ravenous thought.

"Reputation and wealth are meaningless to me. Possessions are meaningless. For me, the value of the work is in seeking justice and self-improvement. I want to be as good as I can be at what I do, and I want- I need what I do to make a difference. And that is why I will always take the missions that are a stretch - the challenges, the risks. I want the jobs that require the whole toolbox, not just a hammer."

Returning to Fook's analogy, he turned his attention on him once more, in earnest.

"And that is why I need your help."

[Li Ho Fook]

Black-furred paws reached to the bottle once more, and again he poured a measure of the translucent orange liquor into Loki's glass. Yet this time he did not drink it himself, instead pushing it forward, across the table.

"You done saw me drink that," he said. "You saw my reaction, how that shit went down. Now I'm offering it to you. Lay some knowledge on me, son: why would a playa like me do that?"

[Abarai Loki]

In the wake of such a sudden and unexpected course alteration, Loki stalled, in both mind and body. His expression changed, creased with annoyance as he considered the shot glass on the table, and the deeper meaning it might represent. If there was one thing his arduous upbringing had taught him, it was how to be an attentive student, and he knew well enough to trust in the wisdom of a master. Even if he could not see it, he knew there was a lesson to be learned, so he committed himself to the task fully.

"It is a challenge," he answered, promptly, "The drink is strong and foul, and a bounty hunter must have the mettle to face each challenge with confidence and... guts."

He gave a curt nod, satisfied with his own explanation, and wasted no time in downing the orange drink. Teeth beared, his expression twisted into a grimace before he had the presence of mind to save face. His throat burned, and in an instant, he was back on Ossus again. Huddled wet and half-naked in a storm-battered tent, with nothing but some glowing rocks and a cap of gin for warmth. It had been his first alcoholic drink. This was his second, and it certainly didn't get any easier. In fact, this was unquestionably worse. When Hal spoke of the flavours and complexity of gin, he had, in his cynicism, suspected bluster, but now it was clear that one burning mouth was not like the other.

To his shame, when he opened his eyes again, they were wet. And when he opened his mouth to speak, he was overcome by coughing spell. Once recovered, he managed to sputter out his words.

"Not dignified, but did I pass?"

[Li Ho Fook]

Watching Loki's features twist into a grimace of hard-nosed revulsion, Fook let a glimmer of a smirk pull up one side of his muzzle. "Dawg, you lookin' for the bottom of the ocean in an alleyway puddle, thinkin' like dat."

His smile came on fully as a chuckle added melody to his voice. "I mean, dag, yo, you saw that shit was whack. You didn't have to drink it. Your dumb ass coulda learned from what I done taught you not five minutes ago. You goin' for that toolbox without gettin' them details. You didn't ask shit, you just drank it. You want them hard missions, them jobs outside your scope, while the Grandmaster is telling you to stick to the shit you got on lock. Yeah, you wants to be hard. You wants to be the Mack. I dig it, I feel you, son. But when you rush into shit, you taste it. Just like you rushed into that drink, instead of asking what it was. You dig?"

[Abarai Loki]

"You could've just told me that."

Loki grumbled, collapsing back into the crushed velvet seat. He finished the rest of his water off to be rid of the aftertaste. To his disappointment, it lingered in mockery. It wasn't all misery, however. There was a warmth blossoming in his chest that drew to mind the laughter he and his old friend shared, that night, which felt like a lifetime ago. It was why Fook's own laughter, even when it was at his expense, did not rankle his typically rigid pride.

"So I am not to repeat the same mistakes you made. Very well. This is where your instruction is essential. And if, as part of my training, you instruct me to stick to missions within my comfort zone, I will follow that guidance. But, I still want to develop the other skills, in the meantime. The reason I took on such different types of jobs on Nar Shaddaa, in the first place, was to determine where my limits lay."

To emphasise his point, he pushed the offensive shot glass away from him.

"And now we know the answer to that."

[Li Ho Fook]

"Naw, dawg, I'm sure you're gonna repeat some of my mistakes. That's inevitable. But I would be a whack-ass teacher if I didn't show you new ways of scopin' things out, yo."

Reaching behind his neck, Fook fiddled with the clasp on one of the gold chains he wore, slipping it off before laying it on the table.

"I'm not sayin' you'll just be hittin' them jobs you is prime for, L-dawg," he said with a sigh. "But, that's where you'll start. You done seen this galaxy, at least more of it than the average playa, but you young. And that ain't your fault, dig? But there's shit you don't know. Things you ain't seein' the way you will a few years down, or even just one year. You want to pick up them new skills? Be in on that fresh shit? You be the king of what you know, and you add that shit one small piece at a time."

Another necklace came off, then another.

"Playas want it all up front. But they don't appreciate it right," he said, unclasping his heavy wrist chrono, and slipped it off his wrist to add to the growing pile. "You don't get it all when you want it, G. You get it when you earn it." The final necklace came off, and he rubbed the ruff of his neck to smooth out the crease in his fur the chains had left. "And not all that shit has the same price. Some big shit you luck into. But then there's that little shit, them bits what changes you, what unlocks options?" He asked, reaching up to unfasten one of the pair of diamond stud earrings he wore. "That shit comes with hard, hard work, once you're ready to be takin' that step."

The other earring was removed next, and placed with care among the glittering pile of excess before him. While he enjoyed his bling, the wah looked every bit as complete without it, and he stared across the table at Loki, a plain man. "Your limits? You'll find those, but don't go seeking them out. Instead, be you, and those other elements will find their place in time."

[Abarai Loki]

With every new piece of jewellery added to the pile on the table, Loki felt his grasp on Fook's meaning becoming weaker and weaker. Wrapped in a shroud of street metaphor and buried beneath a mound of golden diamond-encrusted symbolism, the lesson received its funeral rites before it could take root in his mind. It was unclear to him if Fook was advocating for specialising in one type of bounty, or steadily acquiring new skills, or both. His eyes narrowed with curiosity, scrutinising the discarded jewellery; each piece an eyesore, but most criminal of all, in his estimation, was the sheer volume of it. Fook looked so much better this way, without his trinkets. He shook his head.

"We are so different, you and I," he said, deflated, "Sometimes, it feels like we don't even speak the same language, and I'm not talking about your colourful slang."

What would it look like, he wondered, the tutelage of Li Ho Fook? Would he be patient? Would he be firm? The last time he was an apprentice, he'd scarcely escaped with his life, surviving a master who had been at once brilliant and cruel. What kind of lessons would he learn with Li Ho Fook as his guide? Would he attempt to instil in him a hunger for credits and fame? Be you. That was what he'd said. And, if his efforts with the slicer were anything to go by, it was clear Loki was incapable of being anyone but himself. What kind of dynamic would that create, then? Only one way to find out. He sighed, surfacing from his thoughts.

"You're right. I am young, and my upbringing was unnaturally sheltered. There is much about this galaxy of ours that I do not understand. Including you. But I am prepared to watch, listen, and learn." A glance to the right, "For example, I saw how the nav display went unusually blank when I heard you lay in a course to Site 17."

He leaned forward on his elbows, and spoke in a deliberate undertone, "Naturally, I'm curious to learn exactly where it is we're headed, and why the secrecy."

[Li Ho Fook]

Guan Yu's face appeared onscreen, replacing the tiled display of bounty reports, and he cheerfully ejaculated, "SITE SEVENTEEN IS ONE OF NUMEROUS CUSTOM WAYPOINTS MASTER FOOK HAS PROGRAMMED IN MY NAVCOMPUTER! IT IS NOT SO MUCH AN END POINT AS IT IS A ROUTING DESTINATION. IT IS LOCATED AT - bip-kssssshhhh..."

The booming voice cut out, both speech and lips censored by static and pixilation, though Guan Yu himself did not appear to notice. Instead, he continued to static away, his head bobbing, eyes twinkling, until he reached the end of what were presumably a series of coordinates, or landmark references. "-THERE IS NOT MUCH TO SEE, THERE, BUT IT IS WELL OUT OF THE WAY OF STANDARD TRANSIT LANES, AND CAN BE EVER SO PEACEFUL!"

"Thanks, G-Dawg. Why don't you hit dat sleep mode, let the autopilot carry us?" Fook spoke without looking over, his eyes remaining on Loki for the duration. Onscreen, Guan Yu nodded, then faded out, and his status changed from active to offline, before the holovision went into power save mode. "We're going somewhere I'm taking you, and that's all you really need to know. Now, hungry?"

[Abarai Loki]

It seemed that, in the time it had taken Loki to shrug off his bandoliers and remove the cumbersome utility belt, Fook had prepared a small banquet of steamed dumplings, complete with a variety of dipping sauces, immaculately laid out on the table in front of him. In reality, the 87 hour rotation of Nar Shaddaa had finally caught up with him, and, now safely removed from its ever-present sense of threat, he fell asleep where he sat. To wake up to a sight such as the feast Fook had laid out for them was the closest thing he'd come to a stay at a luxury hotel. The smell overcame him like a symphony, and he sighed happily.

"Li Ho Fook, I have certainly missed your cooking."

While they ate, they discussed in detail the sum of Loki's criminal-catching endeavours on the Smuggler's Moon, deviating occasionally to discuss the work that had kept Fook himself busy in the meantime. Conversation was casual enough, interspersed with moments of criticisms, suggestions, or advice from Fook where it was relevant; the insight betrayed his experience. Fook understood how the galaxy worked in ways that Loki feared he may never comprehend.

Little time was wasted on the details of the Palliduvan hotel thief, as it was as low-key and dull as imaginable, which, at the time, had been entirely the point. Loki had not wanted his first solo mission to be some guns-blazing extravaganza. His biggest regret of the mission was that he'd paid for two nights' stay, just to secure his cover. When confronted, the thief did not attempt to run, confessed, and came in without fuss.

Then there was the droid spy, smuggled from Nal Hutta. The mission parameters had not identified a droid as the spy guilty of stealing Hutt secrets, but when his investigations brought him across the cargo manifest of a suspicious ship, and he discovered a droid had been a part of that cargo, he recalibrated his own limited imagination. As a droid engineer, Loki learned long ago not to underestimate droids, and it was that experience that allowed him to disable the droid by overloading a simple turbolift interface when the droid attempted to access it. Thereafter, a quick spot of reprogramming directed the droid straight to its unsuspecting owner. Two for the price of one.

The most complicated of his jobs was the Lasat weapons dealer, wanted for selling disruptors. His actions had led to escalating violence between rival gangs, the Green Zone Dragonsnakes and the Red Zone Firekrakens, and local authorities had contracted the guild to intervene and expediate a resolution. This time, Loki elected to dispense with the overt deception and speak a language gang thugs could understand: violence. First, he watched, studying their movements, until patience and good fortune allowed him the opportunity to intervene in an altercation; the attack on the Dragonsnake spice drop was easily fended off, he then tapped the comm of a bloodied and dazed Dragonsnake before returning him to his comrades. He ingratiated himself with the Dragonsnakes, and after three days of pointless busywork, he discovered the time and location of another spice drop from the tapped comm. He leaked the information to the Firekrakens and ensured he was present for the drop. Once again, he helped repel with Firekrakens and earned the trust of his fellow Dragonsnakes.

At last, they invited him to a weapons trade; he kept his head down, did as he was told, except for the tracker he attached to the case of traded credits, that he did of his own accord. The weapons dealer was found working out of an old speeder factory, his henchmen were dispatched without incident, and the dealer was brought in alive. It was his biggest paying job while on Nar Shaddaa, but by no means, his most dangerous. That rare accolade was reserved for Shiobi Sunweaver, the Mirialan assassin wanted for the murder of a ranking officer within the local military, a man by the name of Rova Gome, infamous for rumours of corruption and accepting bribes from Rubella the Hutt.

"The pay was reasonable," Loki explained, dipping one of the neat savoury parcels into a rich dark sauce, "And a challenge was guaranteed. What I had not expected, however, was the night I accepted the job, Shiobi Sunweaver found me."

Loki took a bite, relishing the combination of vegetables and minced meat within. Once more, he complimented the chef, then proceeded to tell the story of how he had been jumped by the Mirialan assassin on his way back to The Old Sail Barge.

"And I heard a distant sound, like a ping. I noticed a sharp pain in my thigh, I looked down, and there was a dart in my leg. My whole leg was numb, in seconds. Completely useless..."

Next on the menu was a dumpling filled with a kind of seafood paste and shredded greens. It was plunged into a bowl of spicy orange sauce.

"And I took cover, behind the wreckage of some old speeder bike..."

Crispy golden vegetables, next, with a creamy red sauce. That was Loki's favourite, for sure.

"...shots fired... lured her out..."

Then a juicy red meat dumpling dipped in a green sauce full of seeds.

"Delicious... she was fast, and far to accurate... undoubtedly Force sensitive..."

Lastly, there was one filled with... was that soup? This time, the sauces were ignored.

"...she became reckless... too close... disarmed her, of course..."

Loki was studying his soup dumpling with fascination.

"You truly are a culinary mastermind, Li Ho Fook..."

He finished it off with a bite.

"I took her out with a stun blast, in the end. She is scheduled to be executed, tomorrow morning."

He gave a shrug.

"Unless Rubella the Hutt decides she wants her assassin back. If there is one thing I have learned about law and order, on Nar Shaddaa, it is that it is only as lawful and orderly as the Hutts wish for it to be."

[Li Ho Fook]

"The galaxy be like that, yo," the Wah nodded. He ate at a slower pace than Loki, selecting fewer dumplings, as he possessed a smaller stomach, but relishing his cooking all the same. "Things is how thems in charge dictates, feel me? Nar Shaddaa, Hutt Space in general, Alliance, Empire, independent systems. Know them limits, and you'll know where you can edge up against to get your prey. Before you go steppin', gots to read the signs. Know them ways, dawg."

His chopsticks picked up a dumpling and dipped it delicately in the darkest of the sauces, before tapping its lower edge against the rim of the dish to wick off extra sauce so that it would not drip on the table en route to his mouth, where the whole thing vanished. "You're good with that urban shit. Good with reading criminals. That's floss, homie. That's why I started you there. Hell, this playa figures you'd be hella tight in most independent joints. Probably some Alliance space, too. But I'm not clearing you for Empire yet. That shit is a mad whack, and them rules? Them rules is different, yo. You gots to level up before you get them jobs. Yo, even I don't like them jobs."

A piece of crunchy vegetable followed, with a sip of tea to wash it down.

"That leg shit, the tranquilizer. If you focus hard enough, you can use the Force to clear that shit, dawg. But in the field, you don't often get that prime focus, feel me? Learn to carry a muscle stim. Them tranq darts is legal in most hoods, I've been hit by more than a few. I pack two stims, these days, just in case. And why my armor has a plasteel layer, to keep that shit from penetrating in the first place. But if I done laid this knowledge on you ahead of time, you wouldn't appreciate it so much. Now that you done felt it, I'm guessin' my advice done sunk in."

Fook glanced over at a small corner of the holovision, displaying something in an obscure language - if it was a language at all.

"You trust me, L-Dawg?"

The question came out of nowhere, and his beady black eyes came back to lock onto Loki's, while he lifted another dumpling to his mouth and chomped down on it.

[Abarai Loki]

While he listened to Fook, Loki was presented with a thought he had not even considered before: bounties, in Imperial space. Despite all of the wonderful combination of exotic flavours he had just been treated to, the very idea left a bitter taste in his mouth. He could never carry out bounties for those Imperial bastards; though he did not consider himself a Jedi, anymore, that did not mean he had cut away his dignity in the process of finding a new life amongst the stars. His silent objections remained, for the time being, silent.

Fook then elaborated on his engagement with the assassin, dispensing more useful advice. What interested him most was the fact that he knew how to counteract poison using the Force. It was something Loki had learned long ago, back when he and his brother hunted and explored across the plains of Maridun, where toxins came in no short supply, courtesy of its rich variety of flora and fauna. It was a classic Jedi technique, and a demonstration of control and understanding one's own body and the Force that flowed through it. That a common bounty hunter had such knowledge gave birth to a host of new questions - that was not the sort of thing one figured out, on their own. Li Ho Fook had training. And his words of wisdom rang true of Loki's own experience: as useful as those Jedi techniques were, in a fast and furious firefight down a narrow alley, a stim would have been his preference, too.

So, while questions were stockpiled, ready to be later fired, he listened. What came next, however, Loki could not have prepared for. There were always connotations when someone asked a question like that, it was loaded with an unuttered caveat. 'Do you trust me? Because...' And then an explanation as to why an affirmation of trust was suddenly and unexpectedly required. That was how it should be done. The gentle climb in his eyebrows was all the surprise he cared to express, however, because:

"I do," he answered, plainly. His entire time spent with Fook had been nothing but one demonstration of trust, after the next, such was the way when you spent time with anyone. Theirs, however, was a bond also forged in combat. And, for Loki, that resonated on a whole other level.

"However, you cannot suddenly ask a question like that, without being asked in return, 'Why?'"

[Li Ho Fook]

The Wah's eyes remained fixed on Loki's, unwavering in their gaze. "Becuase, G," he answered, leaning back in his seat. "We's goin' somewhere, and I'm not tellin' you where it is. And I'm askin' you to trust me, and not figure it out. You dig? You ain't gonna know how we got there, and only I decide when we leave. But if you don't trust me enough for that, home-slice, lay it on me now, and I'll redirect dig?"

[Abarai Loki]

"This is beginning to sound very dramatic." Loki said, weary, "Li Ho Fook, there are million worlds with a million names I may never know in my lifetime. If it is important to you that I do not know the name or location of this place, very well. However, I draw the line at you holding me hostage at this undisclosed location for an unspecified length of time. I've been captive at the mercy of another, before, and have no desire to relive that experience, ever again. So, approximately, are we talking a day? A week? A month?"

[Li Ho Fook]

The mounting tension was broken by a broad smile and chuckle, Fook's pearly white fangs gleaming as he laughed. "L-Dawg, I'm takin' you to chill, not to be no prisoner. If I wanted you hostage, G, you'd already be in the cell, dig?"

Selecting one more dumpling, he dipped it in its sauce, shaking his head. "I'm feelin' a week. Maybe week and a half. Unwind, chill, max and relax, feel me? Shit, the tired is written all over you like a holoboard, playa. You gots to understand the importance of down time, dawg."

Popping the dumping into his mouth, he chewed and spoke around it, shrugging. "Who knows? Maybe the Grandmaster's got more knowledge to lay on your dumb self, just needs the right hood."

[Abarai Loki]

He considered Fook's answer with grim sobriety. There was truth to what he said, so palpable he could feel it bleeding into his very muscles - the fatigue. His time on Nar Shaddaa had taken its toll, without him realising it. Until now. He gave a nod and sat upright, to rest the back of his head against the soft crushed velvet. A week. Maybe two. That was acceptable.

A thought occurred to him, then, and he studied the diminutive bounty hunter, with narrowed eyes.

"Are we going on vacation?"

[Li Ho Fook]

"Dawg, vacations is five-star hotels, hot tubs, beaches, massages, someone else doin' all the cooking, and fine-ass ladies, feel me?" Fook arched one of his small, white eyebrows. "There's a beach where we goin', but you ain't gettin' none of the rest of that shit, homeboy. This be a retreat, not a vacation."

[Abarai Loki]

Loki gave a nod. Inwardly, he wrestled with concepts of a vacation and a retreat, and found himself at a loss. He had experienced some bastardised version of a vacation while undercover with Taataani Meorrrei on Ando. As he understood it, a vacation was an excuse to be as unproductive and indulgent as possible, doing a whole lot of nothing and calling it fun. And, tactically, he understood the definition of a retreat, which begged the inevitable question: what in the galaxy were they retreating from? Perhaps Fook was going into hiding. It was not unreasonable to imagine that in a bounty hunter's line of work, one might make powerful enemies, and it would be wise to have the ability to drop off the radar, as it were. It also explained his need for secrecy.

For the time being, Loki considered the mystery sufficiently unravelled. Though, if he was going to continue associating with Li Ho Fook, there would be a conversation in their future about the kinds of enemies he might make, as a by-product of their work. Content, for the time being, he rose, cleared the table, and washed up.

"If there are no hotels or massages for me to look forward to, then I am going to need my rest," he said, at last, barely stifling a yawn. "Only now do I realise just how much that wretched world has taken from me."

Fook was gracious enough to need no further prompt. With the seating area cleared, he lowered the table, and rearranged the cushions into his old familiar bed. By comparison to Nar Shaddaa, it was a five-star experience. Though there were excellent sheets available, he could resist the encroaching grip of fatigue no longer. And, with his boots already removed, he wasted no time sluggishly scrambling onto the newly-formed bed and collapsed in a state of instant unconsciousness.

[Li Ho Fook]

His head shaking at the human sprawled out on the 36th Chamber's second bed, Fook just sighed and grumbled, "Your tall-ass self best not drool on that velvet, holmes." With that, he spared a glance at the changing glyphs in the corner of his holoscreen.

"Yo, G-dawg, put on some stimcaff, yo. The strong shit."

"ENGAGING! I SHALL LET YOU KNOW WHEN IT IS BREWED!" Guan Yu's voice boomed.

Fook's ears twitched, and he looked back to ensure it hadn't woken Loki. No, at this point the 36th Chamber could take direct turbolaser fire and that kid would still be out cold. Pulling a sheet over his unlikely protégé, the wah then scooped up all of his shed jewelry and deposited it in his own bedroom, before taking to the helm. From his gold and purple, leopard-print pilot's seat, he kicked back and watched the galaxy fly past in the swirling, smearing colors of hyperspace. How different everything would be had such travel never been unlocked, he wondered. Humans wouldn't be running rampant all over everything, wars would be smaller, and he would probably be at home, married, with kids, and some sort of normal, traditional job. While it held some appeal, Fook wouldn't trade it for all the things he'd seen, all the experiences he'd had. But it was a pleasant daydream, and he became enamored in envisioning what his wife would look like, what her voice would sound like upon his ears, what her body would feel like against his own as they-

"SIR? MASTER FOOK?" Guan Yu's voice cut through the best bit of his daydream, and Fook blinked as reality washed back over him like some torrential rain on a backwater swamp planet.

"Dag, fuck Dagobah," he mumbled, reaching up to rub his eyes, then adjust himself. "What is it, G?"

"YOUR STIMCAFF, SIR. IT'S READY."

"Oh, cool, cool," the wah nodded.

"NO, IT'S QUITE HOT, I ASSURE YOU!"

"Dawg, that ain't what I-"

"YOU SPECIFICALLY ASKED FOR THE STRONG STIMCAFF. YOU DIDN'T CARE FOR IT WHEN I MADE IT ICED, THAT ONE TIME, SO IT IS HOT. IF YOU WANTED ICED STIMCAFF, YOU SHOULD HAVE SPE-"

"G," Fook held up a staying paw. "Not what I meant by cool. I'll come back and get some in a moment, dig?"

"AH, I SEE. MY APOLOGIES, MY SUBPROCESSES STILL BECOME CONFUSED FROM TIME TO TIME. IT'S MOST DISTRESSING, YOU KNOW."

"S'all good, G. S'all good." Easing himself out of his seat, the bounty hunter padded back into the living quarters and poured himself a human-sized portion of stimcaff. "G, disable tracking, cease data logging, but keep the set course. Also, reduce volume to half."

"SHOULD I SHUT MYSELF DOWN FOR THE EVENING, AS WELL?"

"Nah, I could use the company for a bit. Otherwise I'm just gonna think about her," Fook replied, returning to the cockpit.

"YOU KNOW I COULD TAKE YOU HOME, IF YOU REALLY WANTED, SIR. IF YOU WOULD TELL ME WHERE IT IS, I COULD PLOT A COURSE."

Shaking his head, Fook sat back in his seat and took a sip of his stimcaff. Black and strong, just how he liked it. "Not happening, G. And I thought I programmed your ass to not offer me that."

"THE LOCK ON MY PROGRAMMING STATES THAT I CANNOT ASK IF WANT TO GO TO YOUR HOME PLANET. I BELIEVE YOU WILL FIND THAT I ONLY STATED THAT IT WOULD BE POSSIBLE. PERHAPS THIS IS SPLITTING HAIRS, BUT I WORRY ABOUT YOU AT TIMES."

A soft smile warmed the wah's face as the stimcaff warmed his belly, and he stared out at the stretch of hyperspace beyond his viewshield. "I appreciate it, G. You're a good friend, holmes."

"AT THE VERY LEAST I COULD RUN ANOTHER SEARCH ON THE HOLONET FOR PORNOGRAPHY FEATURING YOUR RACE. I AM CERTAIN I WILL FIND SOMETHING EVENTUALLY!"

"Woah there, G! Homies don't just go offerin' shit like that!"

"YOU TOUCHED YOURSELF AFTER APPEARING TO BE LOST IN THOUGHT. TYPICALLY WHEN YOU DO THAT, YOU WISH TO VIEW-"

"Dawg! Chill!" Fook blurted.

"APOLOGIES, I WAS JUST TRYING TO BE THOUGHTFUL. I WAS ABLE TO FIND SOME MOST CURIOUS CONTENT FOR MASTER LOKI WHEN HE ASKED."

It took all his focus not to spray a mouthful of stimcaff all over his viewshield and control panel, as Fook had just taken a sip of stimcaff. Choking it down, he coughed and sputtered, before glaring wide-eyed at the visage of Guan Yu on one of cockpit screens. "Yo! What? Aw, hell naw, G, you showed that sucka-ass Jedi that X-rated shit?"

"HE WAS PERFORMING A SEARCH FOR IT ON A TABLET, SO MERELY OFFERED ASSISTANCE. I BELIEVE I SAID, 'IT LOOKS LIKE YOU'RE ATTEMPTING TO VIEW PORNOGRAPHY. CAN I BE OF ASSISTANCE?' AND HE AGREED. WHAT HE WATCHED WAS MOST INTERESTING, INDEED! DID YOU KNOW THAT-"

"Fuck!" Fook spat. "Shit shit shit! G, don't tell me any more! That sucka is a minor, dig? You know how much shit I'll be in if folks find out I gave a minor access to that shit? Protocol update: You tell no one about anything Loki watched, if it's adult material."

Guan Yu's face fell, realizing he'd made a mistake. "UNDERSTOOD, SIR. MY APOLOGIES, YOU SAID I SHOULD BE A GOOD HOST, SO I WAS ONLY TRYING MY BEST TO BE HELPFUL. PROTOCOL HAS BEEN UPDATED. SHOULD I PREVENT HIM FROM ACCESSING SUCH MATERIAL GOING FORWARD?"

"Pssh, like you can keep a teenager from accessing that shit. Nah, he can do what he wants. I just don't need to know about it, dig? And neither does anyone else."

The next few hours passed with little incident. Fook closed the cockpit door and lowered the cabin lights so that Loki could sleep soundly, not bothered by music playing in the cockpit. All the while, the glyphs on each of the screens changed, moving from four columns, to three, then two. As it reached one, the wah smiled. "G'night, G. I'm shutting you off, taking us in manually from here. You're going into full system shutdown, now. Disable all data logging, full delete of all tracking and navigation data from the last fifteen hours. And... when I bring you back online, maybe you can search for that kind of thing again, okay? Just don't blurt it out if you find something, dig? Small text alert to my wrist comm, got it?"

Guan Yu nodded with a smile, his traditional hat being replaced with a sleeping cap on screen. "GOOD NIGHT, SIR. ENJOY YOUR SECLUSION."

Fook only smiled, then reached out to uncover a master switch, before flicking it off. Guan Yu faded from the screen, replaced by an astronavigation display, while the 36th Chamber dropped out of hyperspace, surrounded by nothing but stars. A new set of coordinates was entered, and the small craft was eased into hyperspace once more, where it remained for two more hours, until at last emerging near a large planet. There, the wah dipped his ship's nose into a descent, manually balancing shields and heat dissipators as it pushed through the atmosphere, before cruising over one of its continents, finally touching down, and powering off - completely.

When Loki awoke, he would find himself somewhere quite different from the banquette bed of the 36th Chamber. Instead he would be lying on a futon, in the main living area of a small, simple house. Its walls were made of wood and whitewashed daub, its ceiling made up of simple, baked clay tiles. A mild sea breeze wafted through the open, glassless windows, some of which offered a view of a simple garden out back, while others looked upon a vista of forest. There were no electric lights to be seen, or electric anything, for that matter. Everything was low-tech, including Fook, who had shed his typically flashy clothing for traditional, simple rustic clothing, and who sat napping against a wooden post next to the fire pit. From the position of the sun, it was mid-morning - if this planet could be counted on to have something of a 24-cycle, at least.

[Abarai Loki]

When Loki stirred, the silence crystallised around him like a prison, oppressive and impenetrable. He bolted upright with a gasp. His wide-eyed gaze swept his surroundings, everything strange and unfamiliar. But there was Fook. When he spotted the small Wah sleeping, he started to breath again. Underneath him his arms were stiff, electrified, and his chest heaved with every laboured breath. A few moments passed in the extraordinary silence, with nothing but the throb of his racing pulse in his ears, and in the silence, his fractured thoughts started to fill in the blanks to make sense of this new alien environment. One hand rose up and clutched at the small bump beneath his shirt, where the cool crystal kissed his damp skin. He closed his eyes, exhaled, and as his mind stilled at last, he stood.

Underfoot, the wooden floor was silent and unyielding. It had been constructed with care. And, careful to remain quiet, Loki made his way across what appeared to be a humble living space, to take a look out of the nearest window. Before him, a garden, thick and overgrown, and vibrant with wild flowers at its edges. Amongst the turmoil, however, neat rows of handsome crops sitting in the hard baked soil. Loki took another deep breath, drinking in the fresh air like the first gulp of water on a hot day. The tension of whatever that was - a bad dream? - it seeped from his muscles at once. He felt like he could deflate into a puddle. Then, taking one glance back to check if Fook was still asleep, he stepped outside into the morning sun.

[Li Ho Fook]

The transition from planed wooden planks to smooth stone flags underfoot was nearly seamless as Loki stepped out the back door of the small house, yet the simple confines of the house gave way to a sprawling vista beyond once he'd ducked through the slightly low door. The back wall of the garden was hemmed in by a jutting mass of stone, rising up from the cliffside the rustic house perched upon, and the crash of waves far below echoed as a soft rumble. To the south, beyond a short wall of mortar and cobble, the land fell away to deliver a commanding view of a shoreline which curved out to the west, and and of the inland forest which was echoed to the north. Gone was the frantic rush and bombardment of noise of Nar Shadda, and the subtle vibrations of a starship in transit could not be felt, replaced by the solid reality of true gravity, and the silence of an undisturbed world. Beyond the sound of the sea, there was only the rustle of wind through the trees, and creak of limbs as they swayed, with the occasional chirp of a bird. And beyond that? Silence.

Silence, and then the popping of joints as Li Ho Fook woke from his morning nap, and stood behind Loki in the doorway, stretching his body, and working out some stiffness.

"Mornin', sleepyhead," he said, after his mouth expanded in a yawn of his own, baring his jaws in the relative dark of the doorframe. "Not a bad view, huh?"

[Abarai Loki]

Though the soft patter of Fook's approach had not gone unnoticed, Loki's attention remained fixed upon the sight before him. After all, Fook he had seen before; this was something new. His gaze was drawn to the horizon, where the sky met the sea, and traced a line inland, across the sweeping shore, up into the rolling forest, and further still, where hills and valleys shimmered in the tranquil sunlight. His mind was already wandering and his imagination ready to run wild.

The sound of Fook's voice broke his reverie, and seeped like rainwater into his thoughts, parched for answers.

"What is this place?" he said, his voice hoarse from lack of use. "How did I even get here?"

[Li Ho Fook]

Fook's paws clasped behind his back and he padded out into the sunlight of his garden. Its surrounding wall would be comically low to Loki, but once Fook was there, everything appeared to be of proper scale.

"This is my retreat. My world," he replied. Behind him, his bushy, ringed tail bobbed and swayed, keeping itself just above the ground, not quite touching it. "I mean, not the world I'm from, but... this one is mine, now. You and I? We're the only two sentient beings here, as far as I can tell."

Black eyes squinting in frustration at the state of the weeds and overgrowth, the wah pulled his paws back forward and he squatted down to begin tearing out unwanted growth from the sun-dried topsoil. "As for how you got here, I carried you off the ship. You were out cold. Can't be overexerting yourself like that; it leads to poor judgment calls, and openings someone can take advantage of. Proper sleep is important, even while hunting."

Beside him, a small pile of weeds was forming, while the start of one row of tubers began to emerge clearly.

[Abarai Loki]

"Hmph." Loki responded, folding his arms. The thought of being carried to bed, like an infant, did not sit well with him. What was even more peculiar was the notion that he'd been fatigued enough to suffer such an indignity. His eyes narrowed in thought, as he considered the dregs of some kind of sedative still coursing through his veins. Given the present company, it was not an entirely unthinkable scenario and it was one which provided refuge from the mental image of him being cradled, softly sleeping, from the 36th Chamber. For the sake of diplomacy, however, he conceded to Li Ho Fook's unsavoury narrative.

"It appears I underestimated the toll of my exertions on Nar Shaddaa."

There was something else Fook said that struck him as unusual. His world. The very idea of it took root and from it blossomed myriad new questions. But, given the extraordinary secrecy with which they arrived here, Loki refrained from pursuing any such line of questioning for the time being. Such a bold claim it was. There had to be someone else, somewhere; a settlement, a family, an explorer. And yet, Fook gave him no reason to doubt his words. Gone was the outlandish swagger and the shameless ego-stroking, instead this was someone far more reserved, and practical. There was something else, too. Loki was almost sure of it.

He continued to marvel at his surroundings, with particular attention being paid to the house; a humble, almost utilitarian establishment, that was nonetheless comfortable and built with a keen eye for detail.

"This is your home? Did you build it?"

[Li Ho Fook]

"Yes, shortly after I got the 36th Chamber," Fook nodded. His gaze remained upon his garden, and he moved along, deftly clearing weeds and unwanted growth with his fingers and claws.

"It took some time, and no small amount of work, but I built it myself. Though, clearly I had to purchase some of the materials. I'm not exactly a potter, so ceramic roof tiles were something I had to buy, instead of make. And the furniture, of course. Some of the art, as well. Containers, fabrics, that sort of thing. But everything I did buy, I tried to get as close as I could to how it would be where I'm from."

Dusting his paws off after half a row of weeding, he stood, looking back to admire his simple home. "It's not perfect, but it's mine. And it helps me to clear my head. Unwind. Regain perspective. That sort of thing." His eyes finally reached Loki. "Something tells me that a man who has been so on-the-move as yourself could use a bit of that, right now."

[Abarai Loki]

As naturally as he could, Loki broke eye contact with Fook to inspect the house, once more.

"It's beautiful. Your home. This whole place."

And, despite that beauty, and the tranquillity of those surroundings, there was something that had Loki on edge. It was probably just the shock of waking up somewhere so far removed from the 36th Chamber. That in itself was disorienting. But Fook's insinuation hit too close to home, and his guard was up now. He took cover amongst the overrun rows of half-buried tubers, hunkering low, he emulated Fook's handiwork, plucking at the weeds.


"On Ossus, there is a settlement of Gossam refugees, up in the mountains. Miwu Shanma. The Gossam have a rich culture, steeped in tradition. Their ways are old ways. And, when it was time for me to... unburden myself of my Jedi life, I escaped to Miwu Shanma. I am reminded of it, here."

Then, bracing himself with fingertips planted upon the firm topsoil, he addressed the bantha in the room:

"What has happened to your voice?"

[Li Ho Fook]

A low, playful chuckle rumbled from the wah's throat before he made his reply. "I was wondering when you'd realize that. The Grandmaster is a character, a face. One of many. But I don't need him here. He doesn't live here. Nothing of that life lives here. Even Guan Yu. He's not here. It's just me. And, well, now you, for a little while."

[Abarai Loki]

From his crouched position, Loki twisted to face Fook, at once. His expression was creased with a suspicion that said, in no uncertain terms, that he was not convinced by this explanation.

"Are you trying to tell me that this is the real you?"

[Li Ho Fook]

"It's about as close as I'll probably ever get to be," Fook shrugged. "It's been a long time since I was home. I've... tried to bring back what that felt like, here. It's not the same, but I'll take what I can get."

Deft, practiced fingers resumed his weeding, moving with the same grace and fluidity with which Loki had witnessed him handle field-stripping blasters and capture equipment. "I wasn't always a bounty hunter, after all. But even before that, I learned something important in this galaxy: Everyone is huge, and they'll pick on you for being smaller than them. So, you come up with something else to get their attention, so their mind doesn't even go there. Also, it's kinda fun, and the ladies love it."

[Abarai Loki]

"I see."

Loki did not see. In truth, there was very little of the explanation that made any sense to him at all, but perhaps that was because his focus was elsewhere. He turned from Fook and resumed the mundane task, ripping at stringy weeds with his grey-dusted fingertips. Clods of dirt broke loose, scattered, and soon a small pile was beginning to mount up beside him as the reality of Li Ho Fook's deception seeped into his skin.

It was an eerie feeling, enough to make the hair on the back of his neck stand on end, to think the person he had been travelling with, in whom he had confided and trusted, was a fabrication. The Grandmaster, as he had been called, was but a fiction invented, as far as he could tell, to divert attention away from the fact that he was, in fact, a small bear. It was on The Grandmaster's invitation that he had arrived, albeit suspiciously, at this secret world, only to find himself in the company of a complete stranger. He did not like that, at all.

A tightness gripped at his chest; it spread, like ice water, to his fingers and toes. And, as still as stone, he took a long steady breath. Then another.

"Where is the ship?"

[Li Ho Fook]

"It's put away, for now," was all the answer Fook offered. "We won't need it until it's time to leave."

Nearly finished with his row already, the wah looked up, while still squatting beside the row of tubers. "And what about Igo Flax? Where's he, these days?"

[Abarai Loki]

"You make it sound like Igo Flax is someone else. We both know pretence is not a skill I possess. Igo Flax is a necessary lie for people with an interest in official records. Nothing more."

Loki abandoned his task, preferring to face his strange Wah companion, instead. There was nothing of The Grandmaster's posturing, not in his body language nor his tone of voice; he was fully at ease with his surroundings. It was unnerving. He could not explain it.

"I am right here. You know who I am, though I cannot say the same of you. And you have me at a disadvantage."

His gaze edged beyond Fook, to the line of trees in the distance. A gentle breeze stirred the leaves into a soft lapping sway.

"Why are we here?"

His words cracked like dry wood, but he barely heard them over the pounding of his heart and the sound of the voice telling him to run, run, run.

[Li Ho Fook]

"We're here," the wah replied, easing up to a stand and clapping his paws together to shed dust. "Because you want to be a bounty hunter, and I don't know why. Together we're going to figure that out. Also, you need to relax. All this go go go? It's not healthy. Down-time. Important lesson."

Only then did his head turn to meet Loki's gaze, a small bit of white fur in the place of his eyebrow raising. "Or would you prefer if I kept calling you L-Dawg, and sayin' shit was mad whack, yo?"

[Abarai Loki]

At Fook's response, Loki was poised, with every muscle in his body coiled tense. What he imagine was going to be a sudden violent spring of reflexes turned out to be a painfully slow release, as the tension bled from his muscles, he rose, inch by inch, until he was standing upright. His eyes never once left Fook, even as he spoke of relaxing and down-time. Everything was as they had discussed, back on the ship. He ought to find reassurance in his words, and yet...

"No..." Loki uttered. The sound of Fook's strange but familiar lingo washed over him like ice water, and dredged him from his swamp of ill thoughts. He considered anew, as the misshapen fragments of Li Ho Fook came together in surreal juxtaposition before him. Then, in response to the question, blank caution became creased with the lines of a familiar grimace.

"No. Absolutely not."

He wandered past Fook, towards the edge of the garden, where he could further appreciate the view.

"It will be a mercy to not have to decrypt ridiculous street lingo every time you open your mouth. It is a small wonder anyone understands you at all, honestly." He glanced back, over his shoulder, "You really talk like that to distract from the fact that you're small? Does it work?"

[Li Ho Fook]

"I'm not small," the wah replied. "I'm average height, maybe a bit above it. It's you all who are huge. But, yeah, it works. Show up with enough swagger, enough confidence, people take you seriously in ways they wouldn't otherwise. And the words I use? Puts them on the back foot, makes them take the defensive, as they feel dumb that they don't understand what I'm saying. If it didn't work, I wouldn't keep doing it."

A bit of a smile crept up his muzzle. "Well, that's not entirely true, it's also pretty fun."

The view Loki looked out across was one of a gentle decline of land, with a few small trees, before it fell away, dropping down to a curved beach beyond. Ocean waves washed up upon the shore in regular intervals at mid-tide, and while it was no tropical paradise, the sea breeze suggested that the water would not be icy cold, either. A few red objects floated in the water at regular intervals, while more were piled on the shore, mixed in with what appeared to be a jumble of broken crates, lying next to a small wooden boat lashed to a post, far up the sand.

"That's lunch," Fook announced. "Crab pots and fish traps. I've got some food here from offworld, but mostly things I can't grow here and keep an eye on. Other than that, we're eating from the land, so I hope you're a decent hunter, too. But no blasters, no rifles, no tech. This place is all about yourself, and what you can do, not what tech can do for you."

[Abarai Loki]

While Fook spoke, Loki braced himself against the low stone wall and closed his eyes. The pleasant coastal breeze grazed his face, turning the cold sheen of sweat into pinpricks of ice. He took another deep breath; strength was slowly returning to him. And when he opened his eyes, again, he set his gaze upon the assortment of shapes bobbing on the water. Crab pots; he'd never seen them before. Nor had he ever seen crabs before, for that matter. In fact, having never lived near an ocean, he scarcely knew what a crab was. Some kind of sea-dwelling creature, he assumed.

"I have fished, before, but only in rivers and streams. I have hunted, too." He gave Fook a look, "Blaster rifles. The native fwits of Maridun are fast and aggressive, it was better to take them out at range. The Mastiff phalone, however, that required real stopping power."

His thoughts had already started to drift off to better days, roaming the rolling plains with the afternoon sun beating down upon his neck, a long-necked rifle in his arms, and his brother at his side. So clearly he recalled the throaty chitter of the large mastiff that took shade in the grove to the south. The rifle was readied with a whine of a fresh power cell, and they vanished into the long grass.

How different was the scenery that unfurled below. Another deep breath. The sea air hit him like a stimulant.

"If we are to catch fish with sticks and stones, I may need instruction."