9.113 The Wee, Small Hours of the Morning

[Halajiin Rabeak]

It was second year all over again, Hal thought, and that thought alone made him shake his head to get rid of it. No, he wouldn't go back to that. He'd moved on, he was better.

As the staccato clack of Loki's hard-heeled boots beat upon the deck, growing ever louder, Hal spared a glance back - more than he would have done back in the day. He waited for a counterattack, or a sharp remark, but nothing happened.

What's he planning?

Oh, crap, he's totally going to yank my tail. I hate it when people grab my tail.

I don't know about that. You seem to insist on it, in some pos-

Dude, not right now, okay? Not now.

And then Loki complimented him, causing all of Hal's worries and anger to collide with each other in one great, sticky ball of confusion marmalade.

Mmm, marmalade... I could go for some on toast, right now.

Wait for breakfast, this is important.

Looking down at Loki, Hal could see his skin was still slightly red with frustration, but it was dissipating. Ears perking back up again, Hal asked, "Wait, you're not even mad? Damn, kid, I totally slammed you into the wall there. I uh..."

He trailed off, realizing now what he had done. Looking back ahead, he finished, "I'm, um, sorry about that. I shouldn't have done it, and it was wrong."

[Abarai Loki]

"Your actions were brutish and ill-judged, but they were nonetheless justified. My words caused offense. That was not my intention."

How exactly his words managed to provoke such a decisive backlash remained something of a mystery to him. It was, however, a matter he was unwilling to pursue for fear it would exacerbate the Nehantite's obvious regret. Apologies were truly ugly. If there was anything Loki took from the experience of being unceremoniously shoved into a wall, it was the fact that he'd become complacent in the company of other Jedi, and in the light of recent treacheries, such an oversight was simply unforgiveable. Halajiin Rabeak was an unknown quantity, he was unpredictable, assertive, brash, and prone to random acts of aggression. The affects of which were just beginning to subside and Loki found his stride once again.

"However, if you refer to me as 'kid' again, yours won't be the only act of justified brutism committed today."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal couldn't help but laugh. Every word Loki said seemed calculated well beforehand, thus far, but at last he finally let out some true emotion.

"Dude, I didn't mean any offense. I call everyone your age 'kid.'" he explained. "That's what they all called me when I joined the Order. Well, that and a bunch of other names I didn't like very much."

He ran on in silence for a while, old thoughts running through his head as he thought of how different life would have been growing up in this setting instead of on Coruscant. To be fair, he'd been given a great deal of freedom, back in those days, but mainly because nobody wanted to be bothered with trying to bring him up to speed, or dealing with his inadequacies. And as he ran, he could feel the almost palpable waves of curiosity rolling off of Loki, even if the young knight could not bring himself to ask the questions in his head.

So, Hal volunteered to answer some of them for him. "You know how younglings and initiates are often given a group of like-skilled others to train with and learn from one another? Well, my group wouldn't have me, so I had to learn a lot on my own. I... didn't actually have any friends for a while, when I first started, and I knew the knights didn't believe I should be there. Everyone knew how I'd been chosen, and no one would give me a chance."

[Abarai Loki]

"While the circumstances of your appointment to the Jedi Order are suspect. I do not understand the mentality behind hampering an innitiate's training. That is counter-productive and foolish."

It was becoming difficult to maintain the conversation at length and control his breathing. Loki wasn't accustomed to running and talking, and he begrudged the company of Halajiin, with whose story he was becoming increasingly preoccupied. Outside of what his master had shared with him, he knew little of the old Order, of the Temple, and the golden age of the Jedi. Perhaps the Jedi mongoose would prove more than just an eccentric throwback, it was possible he could become a conduit of knowledge to a time when the Jedi were at the height of their powers. A thought occured to him, and as much as he wished to remain focused on the task at hand, he couldn't help himself:

"Halajiin Rabeak, moments ago, you expressed frustration that you'd not yet been assigned a role to fulfill amongst your Jedi peers. Perhaps, with your knowledge and experience, you could provide an education on our proud heritage. Does that interest you?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Running and talking was taking its toll on Hal as well. Actually, mostly the running, as he could talk for hours, but wasting breath on words while he was trying to keep up pace rapidly depleted what endurance he had left after being up all night. His breaths growing more ragged, and his steps labored, Hal knew he was almost out of steam, and cursed his former smoking habit for having reached his limit so quickly.

"Things were..." Hal panted, "different back then. You could afford to be picky." His legs burned, as did his lungs, and as he saw the comissarry coming up on their left, he puffed, "Only the best made it through. But, I need to stop. Sorry, not used to this."

He half-jogged, half-stumbled to a halt, bracing his paws over the back of a chair as he leaned over and tried to catch his breath. "You seriously do this for two hours?" he asked. Looking back at Loki, his face was a that of bewildered disgust. So maybe he wouldn't be joining Loki in the morning, after all.

At last he slumped down into the chair, leaning his head back for a moment in blissful rest before he groaned, then sat up properly. "You mean, like teach?" he asked, slightly confused. No one had ever suggested he do that, before, but it made sense, now that he thought about it. Someone had to whip these Jedi into shape - mental shape, he'd let Loki handle the physical part - and who better than Hal, who probably knew better than any of them how they should be acting.

"Yeah, I think I could do that. I could probably teach you all kinds of stuff, actually," he said, a tired smile working up his muzzle.

[Abarai Loki]

Arms folded, Loki regarded the sad broken figure slumped in a chair with scathing disapproval. The ceaseless chatter had made the run more challenging, certainly, but not to the point of exhaustion. Halajiin Rabeak was in dire need of a fitness program. Then again, after a hundred and seven years frozen in carbonite, perhaps his muscles were atrophied. Inwardly, he made a vow to himself that he would see the Nehantite restored to peak physical condition, whether he liked it or not. He cast a wary glance around the mess hall, it was all but empty, and its chilly air chased away the comfortable heat from his limbs. It pained him to stop. Part of him wanted to abandon his mongoose companion and remain faithful to his trusty routine, but he had committed himself to a discussion from which he couldn't simply walk away. If, by the end of their talk, he had helped Halajiin discover a purpose for himself amongst the Jedi, then his sacrifice will not have been in vain. He took a seat and lifted a dubious eyebrow at the latest claim, which flirted to far on the wrong side of braggartry for his taste.

"Could you indeed?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Before Hal could reply, a wide, groaning yawn split his muzzle, spreading his jaws wide and exposing all of his quite animalistic teeth. "Oh man, sorry 'bout that," he said. Standing up, he paced over to the pot of stimcaff that had been left on the warming plate all night. Pouring himself a cup, he nodded.

"Well, probably, I think," he answered. "I mean, I don't know what all you already know, but I worked under and with some of the best of the Order. But I mostly focused on the stuff nobody else was doing. The stuff I had to read about in the really old archives, and on the fringes of other study, that sort of stuff."

Taking a sip of the warm, over-thick stimcaff, Hal pulled a face, but that didn't stop him from taking another drink. Returning to the table, he dropped back into his seat, done with his run for the day.

"See, when you get made fun of by the other kids because you can't do what they can do as well as they can do it, you've got two choices. You can keep trying to be just like them, or you can go your own way and learn the stuff they don't even know can be done."

He could see the look he was getting, so he snorted a chuckle and took another drink. "What? It's not like I didn't learn the normal stuff, too. I didn't have a single friend for two years, there was nothing else to do. So, yeah, I could teach, once I'm up to speed on how you all do things around here, of course. Though the Hellfire trick... really shouldn't be done on a ship. Seriously. Nooooot a good idea."

[Abarai Loki]

"There is a third option for dealing with rivals. Beat them at their own game. They will be humbled."

Halajiin Rabeak was a very open Jedi. The revelation came to Loki as he listened to him speak, surprised by the shamless way in which he divulged details of his troubled youth, it made him uncomfortable. Wrestling with one's demons was a personal affair, he believed, something best kept behind closed doors. What exactly his chatty counterpart seeked to achieve by including him in his frank confessions was something of a mystery. Loki remained vigilant, suspicion simmering beneath the surface.

"Halajiin Rabeak," he began, dispassionately, "If you are to educate the padawans, then it will be prudent you accomodate a more traditional curriculum than- the hellfire trick?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal halted his cup of stimcaff halfway to his muzzle, mouth hanging slightly open as he stared across the table at Loki.

"Padawans?" he asked. "I thought you meant everybody."

Taking his interrupted drink, he waited for an immediate reaction, but there was none. The ceramic mug tapped down on the tabletop, and Hal breathed a sigh of understanding. So this was how it was going to be; he would teach the basics to young students who would then go off to get apprenticed to other masters. Forget all the unusual things he'd learned, and forget trying to advance the other knights in some way, this was all about giving Hal something to keep him occupied, not actually make proper use of him. As he felt his pride bruised, he couldn't help but voice his opinion.

Shaking his head, he gave a forced smile. "I guess this order never changes. Everyone worries about what I might teach a padawan or initiate, like I might infect one of them with my own thinking, or something. Sure, I'll stick to the basics; just seems a waste, is all, when I've got so much else to offer. And if you've never heard of the Hellfire trick, well... that's not something you learn in the traditional curriculum."

[Abarai Loki]

"Are you always this sensitive?" he muttered, irritably.

Loki closed his eyes to shut out the sight of Halajiin's indignant face. He had a feeling he was going to graduate from this discussion an expert in calming breathing technique. It was working for him at present, but there was only so far his patience could stretch. His hands clasped on the table and he approached the matter as diplomatically as possible.

"There is no reason you cannot also teach the more experienced Jedi. Nothing can be gained from the restriction of knowledge, Halajiin Rabeak. I was merely remarking upon the fact that, when it comes to the education of padawans, simplicity first. We are not in the business of teaching our innitiates cheap stunts. Now tell me about the blasted hellfire trick!"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

Hal's ears went back in mock indignation, and he sat up straight and proper. "Being sensitive is the sign of a caring, honest individual," he replied sardonically.

"And as for the trick, I told you it's really not smart to do it onboard a ship." The Nehantite's attitude returned to normal. "And that's not even its real name, that's just what I called it because nobody else had been doing it in ages, so I figured it out and got known for it. I wasn't going to tell everyone it's a concentration of highly combustible gasses arranged in a proper shaped charge and ignited and directed using molecular compression. That's just boring."

He took another drink from his stimcaff, but could see that Loki's curiosity was still not sated. "Fine, fine... just don't blame me if the fire supression countermeasures go off and we both get wet," he gave in. "This is going to be really, really small, got it?"

Setting his cup down, Hal took a deep breath and stared off into the center of the mess hall. With his right paw, he appeared to be slowly directing wind, itself, and with each passing second, the look of concentration on his face grew more absolute. He could do this quickly in an open space, but here on a ship there were things like gas balances to worry about, and all manner of sensors which could be damaged. At long last, he vented his breath and drew his fingers back, braced against his thumb.

"Ready? Watch right there, over the center table, got it? I'm only going to do this once."

With that said, he snapped his fingers. At first there was only a tiny spark which popped in the air over that table, but before Loki could laugh, a blast of fire shot forward in a tightly controlled path, rapidly shooting forward and growing in intensity before flaring wild in a dangerous fireball. Hal immediately waved his paw and it dissipated before it could set off a fire sensor. The entire show had been very small, but effective nonetheless.

"That's about as small as it can be managed, really," he announced, though the fireball had shot forward over nearly twenty feet before Hal had killed it.

[Abarai Loki]

Loki stared owlishly into the space where the fireball vaporised. After the intense blaze of heat, the renewed gust of flitered air felt positively frosty against his skin. He gave an involuntary shudder. Slowly, he surfaced from a hazy swim of wonder, and returned his attention to Halajiin. Already, his thoughts were cycling through the potential battlefield applications of such an offensive power. He gave the mongoose a nod of approval.

"That was... impressive," he said at last, "I know of no other Jedi with such a skill."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Like I said, no one had been doing it for ages," Hal replied. "Found the theory in the old archives. Took forever to get it to work. If had actual land and open space, I could try and teach you, but... that thing really eats up available oxygen, and can set off atmosphereic sensors and all kinds of stuff. I don't want to teach it onboard a ship. Too dangerous. At least you can aim lightning at a target rod or something."

Leaning back in his seat once more, Hal looked out where his fireball had been. "There's so much more in those archives than most any of the Jedi realized. They just didn't want to take the time to go digging. And now it's all under Empire lock and key. What a waste."

Shaking his head, he took a drink from his rapidly cooling stimcaff, then grimaced slightly at the absoultely terrible flavor. "I think you would have liked the old Order, Loki. Garffie knows I hated it when I got there, but in time it worked out. Well, once Trevarius took me on, that is. If it wasn't for him, odds are I never would have made it through. He was a good, good man."

[Abarai Loki]

After the impressive display of power, Halajiin's words were weighted with a sad truth, it was tragic that the sum of all Jedi knowledge was held in the greedy hands of the enemy. Under the Empire's tyrannical boot, he and his kin had been reduced to the ways of their prehistoric ancestors, who huddled in the shadows from predators, and passed on their knowledge from word of mouth alone. There were no holocrons, no archives, not a single datapad's worth of information on what it was to be a Jedi. All they had was each other. And what a motley crowd they made.

It made him think of Halajiin, who leaped forward to leap back, now a lowly cave-dweller along with the rest of his Jedi comrades. Loki did not begrudge him his nostalgia. And to think he had difficulty settling in with the Order of old. He wondered if the mongoose would ever find peace drifting through the empty void of space with no temple, no archives, and not even a lightsaber to call his own. Then, his musings were submerged and drowned beneath a seething selfish interest at the mention of Master Trevarius, the master of his own mentor. His eyes narrowed with fierce curiosity.

"What was it about Master Trevarius that enabled you to succeed?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

A warm smile crossed Hal's muzzle, a smile of honest friendship. Though Trevarius had died long ago, Hal didn't think of him in terms of a distant memory, but as a man he'd spoke to only a week ago, and had recent, clear memories of.

"You know, I wasn't sure, at first, why he picked me. As a knight who had shown enough dedication to the Order and established a great deal of trust from the Council, he could have picked a far more promising padawan than me," Hal admitted. "But I think... I think he wanted a challenge.

"He was proud. Oh, Garfife, Trev was proud. I think he looked at the candidate pool and picked me, thinking he could look even better if he took the reject nobody wanted and turned him into a model Jedi, anything to fast-track him up to the Council, himself. Boy, was he surprised when he found out just how far I had come on my own, though! That changed everything.

"As his padawan, I suddenly got some respect from the others, and because of that my efforts and skills finally got noticed. But more than that, I finally had something close to a friend, and that's what got me through. We both rubbed off on each other, I think. I picked up discipline and he relaxed a bit, letting the living Force guide our way. We branched out from the normal Jedi path, finding what each of us was best at, and we both complimented and contrasted each other. Even when I failed at something, he was proud that I tried, and he always encouraged me to succeed. Could I ever be just like him? No, never, same as he couldn't ever really be just like me. But we understood that, and in time we became actual friends. He also encouraged me to keep delving into the old and odd stuff in the archives, telling me that things like that shouldn't be forgotten.

"But we didn't always get along, and I think that's one of the other things I miss about him. We'd argue, and while we were both often right, his desire to get a seat on the Council often overrode our friendship. By the time I was knighted, we were barely speaking, and it took a few months after that until we came back to more friendly terms. He took on another padawan, but instead of playing it fast and loose like he had with me, he was all about structure and order, discipline and code. We never did see eye to eye again, beyond that, but by then the order had accepted me, and I was free to work as I saw fit. Trevarius was still bucking for a Council seat when I got frozen. Dunno what happened to him after that, but I do miss him. Even for our differences, he was still my best friend, and we'd still hang out when we could. Couple drinks and he was back to the old us, so... I kinda always made sure to get him a few drinks when we were out.

"It's because of him that I made it to Knight, even if the Council didn't really know what to do with me. I was sort of the odd-jobs guy, or the guy who got the jobs nobody else wanted. Trev would still pull some strings every now and then and get me a good job, though."

Hal stopped there, his paws wrapped around his stimcaff mug. It had gone cold, and he didn't really want to drink it, anyhow. Loki sat before him, almost a perfect model of what Trevarius was trying to turn his second Padawan into. While Hal could admire Loki's dedication to the Order, it also saddened him to see that all of the fun that Trevarius and himself used to have seemed to be completely missing from the boy.

"Seems like he left a solid legacy, though," he tried to smile, but it didn't work. "And it seems like I didn't leave one at all."

[Abarai Loki]

"You are flirting with vanity, Halajiin Rabeak, but I must point out the flaw in your reasoning. Your master lived a full life, and died. You did not. It is foolish to try and quantify the sum of your existence a fraction into it."

After a long meandering monologue loaded with nostalgia and melancholy, Halajiin had arrived at a rather ill-concieved and pessimistic conclusion, which Loki was glad to deconstruct. He dispensed wisdom with signature detachment. There were few things he tolerated less than defeatism, it was ugly and unbecoming of a Jedi, and in Halajiin's unique case it was downright dangerous. It was tempting to think of him as another padawan with adjustment issues, that way he could tackle the problem with confidence, but Halajiin Rabeak was a Jedi Knight. And a sensitive one at that. Patience was required, and time. So, for the time being, he returned to his companion's story.

"It is interesting," he considered, with a frown, "You speak of your master as a mentor, and a rival, and a friend. That, to me, speaks of chaos. A padawan requires consistency and stability, not friendship. It is unsurprising you were considered an unknown quantity amongst your peers, and yet you appear to be proud of your individuality, despite the sense of isolation that accompanies it. In this regard, do you not think you have been doomed to disappointment?"

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Just because you don't have any friends doesn't mean no one should." The words came out of Hal's mouth before he could even think.

Woah there! That was uncalled for!

What? He's like a travel-size douche, he deserved that!

Nobody deserves that, dude. Besides, I think were were like, almost connecting there, for a moment.

Says you. He's never going to respect you, not like this. Just give it up, already.

No. No, I'm not going to give it up. Pint-size pain in the ass or not, Loki has actually been pretty darn good to me, so far, considering, and I don't want to make him upset. He's a good man, for being a kid, and he seems to be a good Jedi, so just shut your hole and let me handle this.

And if I don't?

Two words: Jawa. Porn.

FFFFFFFfffffffff...

Thought so.

An instant after he said it, Hal held up his paws in defense. "I did not mean that. Sorry. I've been up all night, and I'm a bit frazzled. Please, I'm sorry."

A glug of lukewarm stimcaff shocked his senses into nauseated overdrive, and he replayed Loki's assessment.

"I think what I meant was that a padawan should have friendship with his master. A master shouldn't be soley about training their student, they should be able to help improve them as a person, and to do that requires friendship. Trevarius helped me become a new man, and for that I am very grateful. It just wasn't the model student that he wanted to show off to the council.

"But as far as isolation due to individuality, well, where would we be if we were all the same? Sure, I might get depressed from time to time because there's nobody else like me around, but should I change who I am because of that? No, that would be defeat in order to gain popularity, and I'm not willing to give up who I am just to make some friends. People are going to have to like me for me, just like I have to like them for who they are."

[Abarai Loki]

It had been an insult. Loki realised that as his companion quickly backpeddled into a retraction and an apology. All the while, his expression was decidedly blank. The implication he was without friends carried no insult for him, as a Jedi, friendship was simply something which didn't concern him. Besides, it wasn't even true. Loki did have a friend, a good friend. But, on the principle that the scruffy mongoose had tried to insult him, he remained silent and allowed him to stew in his regret.

In his silence, he discovered there was some wisdom to be found in Halajiin's words, loathe as he was to admit it. Despite his apparent flightiness, there was more to the Nehantite than he let on, a refreshing measure of self-awareness to go hand-in-hand with all that jarring self-confidence. It was true, a Jedi should never pander to the masses for acceptance, even if it meant alienation, a principle with which Loki deeply identified. He was identifying with Halajiin Rabeak now. Perhaps it was too early in the morning.

"My master shaped me into the Jedi I am today, but he was never my friend. We were never equals. That was important. It's difficult to believe the same man was responsible for two entirely different Jedi," he said, hanging onto the thought before concluding, "I do not think there is strength in such diversity."

[Halajiin Rabeak]

"Then you believe in the power of the uniform thought," Hal replied, his tone even.

"I've learned another group believes in such a thing, these days. They have no face and their soldiers wear white armor. Individuality is something they shun, as well, but the Jedi never have. Trust me, there is more strength in diversity than you could ever imagine, and even though I am alone in this time, I'm not broken."

[Abarai Loki]

"Do not speak to me of the Empire like it is something abstract and alien to you!" Loki snapped, "The Galactic Empire is your Republic with a rotten heart. How dare you accuse me of harbouring the same monstrous mentality!"

He was standing, rigid with anger, his fists clenched like rocks. It was a misunderstanding, that much he knew, but that this sanctimonious relic had the gall to so casually draw a likeness between him and the foe that had nearly wiped the Jedi from the universe was too black a slight to ignore. The cup of stimcaff shattered across the room. His mouth curled with contempt.

"Do not speak of that which you have no understanding, mongoose Jedi. The Empire slaughtered our kin like dogs, and should you again choose to cast such aspersions upon my character, you will witness the limit of my forgiveness."