Wow, the Old Neighborhood Really Went to Hell.

The air rushed around Hal as Loki sped by him, and the Nehantite paused to smooth out his headfur before stepping up to the turbolift doors, himself. This boy was skilled, that much was certain, but he also seemed to be a bit of a dick. Hal didn't much like dicks.

Really? You had to word it like that?

Oh shut up, you know I didn't mean it like that.

"Please, just call me Hal. Nobody's called me by my whole name in ages," Hal replied. "And, what are you planning to hack off one of my limbs with? Certainly not this."

He held up Loki's saber in his right paw, fingers grasping it upright by the base as he studied it. Letting it drop back into his paw, he then tossed it back to its owner.

"You're quick, but I'm a mongoose."

By returning the lightsaber when he did, the mongoose had saved himself from a premature end, a fact of which Loki was absolutely certain. The burning intent to kill flickered from his eyes but a quiet fury remained, bubbling beneath the surface. In his hand, the metal of his weapon was still imprinted with the warmth of Halajiin's paw, it was obscene.

"The ability to remove your arm does not lie with my lightsaber, Halajiin Rabeak, but my resolve, which I assure you is sharper than any blade."

Fingers wrapped tightly around the sacred metal cylinder, in his heart Loki could hear his Jedi weapon screaming objections, and it was everything in him to still its bloodthirsty rage. That Halajiin freely returned his lightsaber was testament enough to his intentions, this the young Jedi had to acknowledge. He stepped aside, granting him access to the turbolift.

"Until you have seen the council, you are not to leave my sight," he said, the doors closed and he raised his gaze, "But touch my lightsaber again, and I will take from you much more than just an arm."

Stepping into the turbolift, Hal shook his head. "Seriously, dude, lighten the fuck up," he groaned. "You do know that being a Jedi also involves having fun every now and then, right? Or at least it did back in my day."

There was no trust emanating from the boy, so Hal sighed and reached for his own lightsaber, pulling it out and extending to Loki. "Here, you take it if that'll make you feel better."

"No!" Loki blurted, and rapidly retreated a step, eyeing Halajiin's lightsaber as if it were a snapping voritor. But once he was sure the Nehantite wasn't about to advance with it, he straightened out his tunic, and took on an even tone:

"Need I remind you, the Jedi who used to... have a little fun... were wiped out decades ago. There is a lesson to be learned in that, I think."

Slipping his saber hilt back into its sleeve on the back of his belt, Hal simply shrugged. "Suit yourself. Also might pay to not be so jumpy, either," he replied.

As the lift sped past floors, Hal looked himself over once more. "If I'd known I'd be addressing the Council, today, I'd have at least put on a new undershirt. Nothing ever turns out quite how you expect it, huh? And, strange thing about having fun: it never actually stops happening, so you might try giving it a shot, some time. Even Trevarius is still capable of it."

He winced, then corrected himself, "Was capable of it, that is."

Just as a second anti-fun argument was taking shape in the boy's head, Halajiin mentioned Trevarius again, steering them back towards the conversation from a moment ago. Loki hesitated, allowing the humming of the ascending lift to consume the silence, while he considered the modicum of discomfort churning within. There was only one way to dispell it.

"You must understand, Halajiin Rabeak, it was not my intention to insult. You're right, I didn't know your master."

There. He'd said it, albeit with his gaze fixed on the turbolift door. But the feeling was not quite gone, it niggled, and principle dictated what he must do next. This required eye contact.

"I knew his apprentice."

"Really?" Hal's ears perked. "Which one? He was on his second, while I was still there."

Allowing himself to stand more at ease, the Nehantite watched Loki's face for a reaction, then discovered that this was one boy he never wanted to play sabbac with. "And, I know you didn't mean offense. I do respect Trev, and I understand why he's become as hard and bitter as he has to most, but you've got to understand, he's not just my master, he's my friend. Well, was my friend, now. Man, it's hard to believe he's gone. We used to go out for drinks and compete for ladies on Saturday nights. But now everybody's gone, I guess..."

"Yes, I'm sure it was all very... distracting."

The way in which Halajiin was struggling with his tenses wasn't entirely unforgiveable, if every detail of his outlandish story was taken as gospel that is, and given his most peculiar qualities, Loki was willing to extend him the benefit of the doubt. What he found himself incapable of digesting was the colourful picture he was painting of the Jedi of old, who, according to the eccentric mongoose, were a band of ill-disciplined hedonists. This bizarre fabrication Loki chalked down to the side-effects of his hibernation sickness.

"My mentor, Barabas Tosca, was the apprentice of Master Trevarius. He shared stories of his old master, passed on his teachings, which appear to have changed dramatically since your days as a padawan."

The wheels of Hal's memory turned so hard that smoke nearly poured from his ears. Barabas Tosca. The name didn't ring any bells. Still, he did feel he owed Loki a bit better explanation.

"I can't say I knew him. Your mentor, that is," Hal replied. "But, like I said, Trev changed. I knew him before he was a knight, too: we were about the same age. Made it nice because we knew each other, already, but I think that made it harder on him because he was seen as being soft on me. I actually think that's what made him turn into a hardass, and I've always felt a bit guilty about it. I hope the same thing doesn't happen to me when I get my first student."

"Yes, a disconcerting thought indeed," said Loki, darkly.

In truth, it wasn't the prospect of Halajiin changing that concerned him, but the very idea that he would one day be entrusted with his own padawan. The thought alone made his skin crawl. It was curious, Loki considered, that he'd refrained from divulging these concerns at all. Inwardly, he frowned. The atmosphere between he and the mongoose was decidedly civil. Perhaps this is what Taataani Meorrrei meant by social diplomacy.

"My master was strong, disciplined, and hard. His methods, I was assured, were a departure from the more traditional teachings of the old Jedi Order. Barabas Tosca emphasised the importance of combat, survival, and uncompromising order, in light of the Jedi Purge. He was a very wise man with the foresight to prepare his students for dark days, a time in which it would not do to be... soft."

The lift doors parted and Loki swept outside.

"And what about compassion? Understanding? What about the desire to reach amicable solutions before ever resorting to violence? Did he teach you these aspects of being a Jedi, as well?" Hal asked, for once going on the offensive.

His stride certainly longer than those of his guide, Hal still found himself needing to move at a decent clip in order to keep up. "Forgive me for saying so, but if you only learned how to fight, you didn't receive much of a training at all. And I believe you misunderstand the difference between compassionate and soft."

What the hell are you doing? Don't piss this kid off!

Hey, I'm not going to let him treat me like some fool. I'm a Jedi Knight, as proclaimed by the true Jedi Order!

You're being an idiot. You don't even know all he facts, yet.

So sue me. One of us has to stand up for what's right and bring some sense back into this mess that they seem to think is normal.

"If you expect me to provide you with a comprehensive report of Master Barabas Tosca's teachings, you will be disappointed. Suffice it to say that a man who fails to honour his duty to protect the lawful and walk the path of peace cannot call himself a Jedi."

The Whaladon was packed with such a wide variety of Jedi, each with different backgrounds and principles, that discussions of this sort weren't uncommon. Loki didn't mind so much, as long as he was able to get his point across in the process, because quite clearly he was right. Long gone were the days when the Jedi could afford to be selfless defenders of justice and peace, they were fugitives, and for the greater good it was in their best interest to stay hidden, pass on their knowledge, and watch their ranks grow. It was in the interest of the greater good, and while there were bound to be exceptions; whether it was a question of pride, as with the rescue of Master Laran, or a matter of tactical advantage; they must nonetheless accept their place in the galaxy. This, Loki suspected, would be the hard fact Halajiin found most difficult to swallow.

"But do not fool yourself, Halajiin Rabeak, as Jedi our first and foremost priority is to survive and thrive. We have returned from the brink of extinction, and it is a feat we should not attempt twice."

"Our goal should be to restore order, and fight back against injustice. Funny, for all your talk of being strong and lacking a sense of humor, I wouldn't have pegged you for a coward," Hal replied.

What the fuck was that?

He talks big, but then says we have to stay hidden? Coward, in my book.

"Besides, I told you to just call me Hal."

"It seems, Halajiin Rabeak, that every word you speak serves only to propel the conversation further into the realms of idiocy. I suggest you refrain from attempting to inflict your own brand of disjointed illogic upon others until you have a clean bill of health."

Under any other circumstances, calling Abarai Loki a coward was surely a crime punishable only by death. But it took a man teetering on the edge of madness to be so dismissive of his own mortality. Clearly, being shunted out of his own time had left Halajiin extremely disturbed, and it was unethical, Loki concluded, to execute the mentally-deranged. A small cluster of padawans shamelessly gawked at the furry new arrival, and dispersed under the youngster's frosty glare.

"You will have an audience with Daria Nytherciria, the only council member presently available, and in the event you are deemed fit to join our ranks, you will undergo a full medical assessment before you are allocated quarters. Do you have any unique hygiene or dietary requirements?"

"You know, I'm starting to get the impression that you don't really like me," Hal replied as he continued along. "Or believe a word I've said. And the name's Hal."

While he certainly belived that Loki was under the impression of being absolutely correct about the mongoose, Hal could still only see an incomplete training which resulted in such a lack of... people skills.

"As far as requirments go, a sonic shower is good enough for hygene, though I will need to figure out where to pick up a fur brush and a toothbrush. And for diet, meat is probably a good thing." He curled back his lips to reveal a set of quite animalistic jaws. "Though I can eat prettymuch anything. Some new threads would be nice though. Boots still seem to be in good shape, so those'll do for now."

Afte a short silence, he added, "And I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss me like you've already done. Hasty judgment can often come back to bite you, I've learned."

"I have dismissed no-one. That is the council's prerogative."

There was nothing unreasonable about Halajiin's list of requirements, in fact, Loki was pleased that he desired new clothes. It simply wouldn't do to have a Jedi parading around the ship looking like a down-and-out spice-addict. He would see to it personally the Nehantite acquired a respectable new outfit. The accusation of hasty judgement still haunted him, however, and he paused in his step to reconsider his furry companion.

"This delusion and paranoia of yours," he began, eyes narrowed in curiosity, "Are they another bi-product of your hibernation sickness or have you always been this... peculiar?"

"It's not delusion and paranoia, it's called being 'normal,'" Hal replied. "Obviously something that went out of style a few decades ago, I guess."

Rubbing the bridge of hiz muzzle, Hal stopped and reconsidered that line of thought. "Sorry, I didn't mean that, it's just... you're a bit of a dick, you know that? You've always got to be right, and you don't believe me when I'm telling the truth because it doesn't seem to fit your viewpoint. Seriously, it's not like I asked for any of this to happen!"

Feeling his heart beat faster, Hal tried to focus himself and calm down, but so many emotions he'd repressed thus far just would not be denied. At last, he found himself staring back down at the boy Jedi before him, and unloaded.

"Listen, I just lost everything and everyone I ever knew. Instantly. I realize everyone here has lost something, too, but they didn't lose everything all at once. I was a Jedi in good standing, and while I might have been a bit more playful than some liked, I did my job, and I did it well! And now I'm here, facing you, getting judged by you, and you have no idea who I am. Think about that for just a moment and tell me it wouldn't throw you off a bit, too."

Loki watched him, brow furrowed in rapt fascination, throughout the entirety of his dramatic monologue. Studious eyes followed every gesture; reading, translating, searching for the truth that ran deeper than a mere barrage of words. Remarks were made which, under any other circumstances, would've successfully unhinged his patience. But as it stood, his mood was placid and cool, and his youthful features warped, confusion giving way to concern.

"Halajiin Rabeak, do not be alarmed, you are having another hysterical relapse. Please, lie down and we shall begin your breathing exercises."

Draping his pristine haori over the cold floor, Loki looked up at Halajiin and gave him a nod of encouragement.

"Wow. Damn, you're thick," Hal balked at the suggestion.

"I'm not hysterical. There's nothing wrong with me, Knight. Pick your haori back up and keep it on," the Nehantite said. "What the hell is it going to take before you get it through your skull that someone can be a bit pissed off, and a bit confused, but still be A-OK?"

Flummoxed by Halajiin's words, Loki picked up his haori, and gave him a long quizzical stare.

"So, all this whining is... normal for you?"