These Shattered Stars -- Logs

The day moves on to early afternoon. After Zero's discovery of the pre-Sith Dark Jedi and his holocron, Roakkana has retreated to his quarters to meditate deeply upon the situation, and to eventually compose a message to the College of Archaeology of the Jedi Academy. Meanwhile, Freyja has taken the two Sith back to the cloisters for some air.

Freyja is comfortably flopped out on her stomach in the cloister's garden, with her chin resting on her hands, lying facing the two Sith. She's enjoying the cool feel of the grass on her bare midriff and arms, and her stretched-out bare toes. Her attention, however, is focused, to the extent that she is utterly still, with nothing but her ice-blue eyes moving. She's watching a small, brightly colored bug climbing a stalk of the local grass, toiling industriously to the very tip. Once it gets to the top it pauses, then spreads tiny, lacy black wings, and flies away. Still without moving, Freyja smiles quietly to herself and lets the distance of her gaze lengthen, to where Fhazil and Vakkal are relaxing, maybe an arm's length away.

Freyja realizes quickly Fhazil is... watching her. Well, that's not quite the right word... he also isn't moving, but is letting his gaze slide slowly back and forth over her languidly recumbent form. She grins silently, waiting until he realizes -- she's watching him back! As he blinks and hastily looks away, she smiles and murmurs lazily, "What do you see?"

Freyja's eyes are striking, a thoughtful and disconcertingly direct ice blue. Her serene face is framed by a thick, soft brown mane cropped pragmatically short but for one very long, thin braid in the back. Long legs and well-tanned shoulders and arms reveal the strong, supple musculature of an athlete. The sturdily practical clothing on her tall, eye-catching form consists of snug breeches, a cropped athlete's top, the taped wrists of a swordswoman, and well-worn, sure-footed, soft leather boots.

Fhazil gives a bit of a start, realizing Freyja noticed. He smiles quietly, shaking his head. "You. Just you. You have such an intense air about you when you focus on something, like that insect just now."

Fhazil Taas stands a little over six feet high. His skin is only a little pale, and his hair is a shag of white which reaches his shoulders, framing a face with bright, light brown eyes that dance with a merry light. His form is light, not rail thin but also not husky, with the agile stance of a dancer or a swordsman who relies more on quickness than throwing his blade against his opponent's. Normally he'd be wearing close-fitting black trousers tucked into black boots, with a Mandarin-collared jacket which somehow allows him freedom of movement; but since being in the monastery's infirmary he has been wearing a simple medical tunic.

Freyja smiles a bit uncomprehendingly, not sure why that would be so fascinating, but doesn't really worry about it. Instead she considers for a bit, realizing she'll soon have to make a difficult decision completely based on trust, according to Inspector Shang. She broods thoughtfully for a second or two... then her cool blue gaze goes back to Fhazil. "May I ask you a question? Why weren't you worried when I 'touched' you with the Force earlier?" Let's see what they think about trust... maybe that will be a good place to start. "You did say it was almost completely unfamiliar to you, after all?"

Fhazil nods quietly. "Because it was you," he says simply. Then he smiles a bit self-rebukingly, and elaborates, "In all the time I've known you -- well, even if a short enough time it's been -- you've been scrupulously honest and direct. You healed my Brother and I back to health, you didn't just out-and-out shoot to kill me when Qatto Verg began his rampage through Methel-ssa, and maybe most importantly you wanted us to get better. You didn't just leave it up to our own devices, you came in just about every day to check up on us. I don't think I was wrong at all in thinking you've had nothing but the best of intentions, so when I felt your mind touching mine it confused me at first, but I didn't have any reason to be too wary."

Freyja tilts her head thoughtfully, where she's resting her chin on her clasped hands, and considers that answer. Finally she says slowly, "That's... nice, Fhazil Taas. Thank you." Curiously she adds, "Is honesty that unusual, though?" She grins a touch mischievously, "Are you and your Brother honest all the time?"

Fhazil grimaces a little and glances over to Vakkal. The canid seems to be sleeping, and won't come to Fhazil's rescue anytime soon. If the small smile on the Sith's muzzle is any indicator he's somehow enjoying this. "Well... speaking honestly, we have not been always honest. As officers of War, once in a while for whatever reason we'd be sent to a planet to look around before an attack, to point out the locations of military targets to the fleet. Lord Ghang wanted that done, saying good intelligence ahead of time was better than trying to avoid hitting civilians in the thick of things."

Freyja grins lazily, also enjoying the gentle teasing. Her voice is casual, "Ah, the exigencies of war." Her eyes get a slightly more mischievous glint, as her voice remains disarmingly casually curious, "As they say, so goes war... so, is love a battle to you also? Is being a dashing gentleman for the ladies why you seem to keep having trouble in local bars?" She turns one hand to cover her mouth to stifle the giggle.

Fhazil grimaces slightly. "Actually... no, it isn't. I know... it might be hard to believe. And it might actually turn out to be a battle after all. But I fight enough for War. Love shouldn't have to be that way. Not that I wouldn't pursue it, or fight for someone I loved if need be. I just don't see love as a battle to fight and win. I mean... who am I fighting in that case? The very person I shouldn't be fighting. I don't want to have to fight for love. Struggle, pursue, yes, all that... but not fight. I guess I just have a distinct idea of what fighting means, and maybe part of that is, as a Sith, I let anger and emotion be weapons and strengthen me in a battle. I wouldn't want to liken love to that."

He adds wryly, "And our troubles in recreational establishments isn't that we're chasing lekku as the case may be, but that we get loud." He glances to Vakkal and grins merrily. "He'll kill me if he heard me say this," he comments, "-but while neither of us are great singers, Vakkal's simply awful. I mean to Human ears. You know what his peoples' idea of a song is? Synchronized howling. Pretty in its own way and moving when done right, but in a tap café? -when we've both had just enough to make us relax?" He shakes his head.

Freyja considers that answer silently for a while. He's very serious... interesting. Well, perhaps he's not familiar with the old, half-joking saying about love being a battlefield. In that case, of course he'd take her question seriously. She wonders idly if he teases worth a darn -- she sure hopes so. They're all going to be so different, after all... if they can't laugh together, what will they have in common? Then he gives his last comment, and she giggles in spite of herself. "My sister had a pet miniature frehkee... she'd howl along while my sister was practicing the wood strings! We think she really liked it, too... she'd run to listen, and stand there wagging her tail and howling..." Then another thought occurs to her, and she curiously asks, "So... what's lekku? -and... who do you love, then? Or what? That counts too, I suppose."

Fhazil laughs at the anecdote, then tilts his head to the side with the question. "Oh, lekku are the head-tails or tendrils that Twi'lek and Troguta and a few other species, have. As for who or what I love..." He lets out a breath, looking up into the sky thoughtfully as he leans against a pillar. "On a calm, windless day on Ziost, you can stand on the battlements of the capitol fortress and hear for miles and miles all around It's absolutely still and quiet, you know, the way it gets when snow lies thick on the ground. Sometimes I'd be out there on days like that and just about anyone would come out, stand at the battlements there, and just look out into the fields of snow and frost. It's almost like it's the only time that some Sith have anything remotely like serenity in their hearts."

He thinks for a moment. "I guess I can't really love that, though. It's a place, a thing. Ziost is beautiful like that, but there must be hundreds of other planets in the galaxy that have similar sights. Love's too great a thing to have for a mere thing or place." He grins. "But there's only one Ziost, after all."

Freyja considers, then says slowly, "Neh... I'd think you could love a place, surely? You have memories and context tied up with it, after all." She sighs softly, then says quietly, "If I can love dancing, even though I'm terribly shy, and going out riding my slaypneer with my frehkee running alongside, all alone out in the wilderness... I don't see why someone can't love a place as well." She pauses, then says curiously, "Chasing head-tails... do you mean sex?"

He looks startled for a moment, then laughs a little. "No, actually. Vakkal and I might flirt, but I think we've disappointed a few courtesans on a few worlds." He grins quietly. "I'm guessing a slaypneer isn't a droid horse..."

Fhazil chuckles quietly. "You're right. I guess I never thought of it that way. I just never wanted to feel love for any of the wrong reasons. In that sense, yes, I love Ziost, both when it's serene and when the snowstorms roar. Maybe more than that, I love setting a goal, or being presented with a challenge, and seeing that goal reached. Nothing made me feel better than to see a job well done when I was in CorSec, and it's the same now: when the fleet sails into a system and all the Republic ships are Somewhere Else, and the world surrenders without us having to do anything, I feel good, because we're doing our job right."

Freyja brightens, "Oh, yes, succeeding at difficult, self-imposed goals is wonderful, isn't it?!" She tightens up slightly at the description of a system having to surrender because it's defenseless... then takes a slow breath. It is what the guy does, after all, she quietly reminds herself. Surely it's better he try for conflict resolution with no bloodshed?

She's somewhat puzzled at the news about flirtation only -- it certainly doesn't match up with what she's heard and seen about soldiers, really. She wonders why the two Sith apprentices chose to do that, even as she shakes her head, "Neh. Father says if you can't command animals you shouldn't expect to ever be able to command people... and so I learned to ride, and to train my animals." She sighs softly, pushing unpleasant memories of disparaging and backhanded 'compliments' from her father aside, and adds, "Also, while we have -- had -- whatever; so we have droid servants, but they just augment the organic ones. They do the icky stuff no one wants to do."

Freyja adds a little dryly, "I think, though, that Mother is the one that really manages our people, as well as our finances. Father is... a bit of a throwback behaviorally, I think. He's the family 'face.' He considers himself the, ah... 'master' of the house." She makes a small face, then adds, "And... Mother goes along with it. I don't know why. I think she's smarter than him, really."

Freyja wonders with sudden startlement why she's telling a relative stranger this -- let alone a Sith stranger! She blinks, wariness touching her expression lightly for a second before she smoothes it out into calm expressionlessness. She should be careful -- she's already had a Sith lord try tempting her, even if clumsily, with information like this. A second later she wonders a little wistfully... did she blurt all this out because she thought Fhazil Taas was trustworthy? She clamps down on that thought ruthlessly -- trust is born over time, girl. You rush this, you'll regret it!

Fhazil nods. "That makes sense. I mean about commanding people and animals. It's an art and science all in and of itself. Lord Ghang called it 'the art of respect.' The Empire uses droids, but they're not as... uhm, 'refined' as the Republic's. They're pretty crude, actually." He looks to Freyja, frowning. "Huh. I can't say I blame you for wanting to leave Balmorra, then." He adds, wryly, "You must have gotten really good at beast-riding."

Freyja nods quietly, relieved he doesn't pry into her family relationships. Her voice is muted, "That and dancing, hai... although I liked the lessons best. The balls were..." she sighs softly, "...trying, sometimes..." She abruptly decides to change the subject -- something less depressing! She considers... then picks a hopefully safe subject. Her tone is lighter as she says, "So why do you and Vakkal just flirt? That doesn't match what I've heard and seen of soldiers." She considers, then curiously asks, "Oh... of course. Are you two lovers?"

"I wish I could say that some of the military balls in the Sith are any better, but I really doubt they would be! What? Oh! No, we aren't." He sounds casual about it. "Some Brothers are, but we aren't. It just never seemed the thing for us." There's a grin in his voice. "You're wondering why we don't have girlfriends in every port, aren't you?"

Freyja nods curiously, watching the Human. "That's what most of the soldiers I know brag about. Well... some of them, female and male, have boyfriends too, but you know what I mean." She adds ruefully, "The military balls the Sith have don't have everyone fawning over my sister. They couldn't be that much worse." Her small grin is dry... she's feeling better. Then she grins more normally, "Unless their idea of dancing is... combat?" She giggles, "That'd be messy... sorry, sorry! You were saying?"

Fhazil grins. "That's all right. And not every Gather would have two lords whipping out their swords. Every so often, though, the conversation would be interrupted by a lightsaber igniting, or a sword being drawn. Some Lords get kind of... touchy. Lord Ghang disapproves of the practice of dueling to final blood; says that it wastes resources that War needs badly. He didn't mind non-fatal duels; thought that it was better to get it out of our systems rather than let it simmer unresolved." He shakes his head. "Sorry, I talk about him a great deal. Where was I..."

Freyja gets a slightly wide-eyed look at the description of the Sith balls... so not only are they an incredibly touchy-proud culture, but there's a lot of former Jedi there now?! She finds that both startling... and rather tragically frightening. What has happened to her beloved Order, if it's come to this -- dueling in the adopted camp of the enemy?

Fhazil continues, "Oh, yeah. I do know what you mean, yeah. And of course some species have ever more different habits as far as that goes But for Vakkal and I... it's a little strange. I don't mean to sound like I'm bragging, but if we wanted to, we'd be able to do something like that... but we just don't want to. When we were together all the time it seemed like we never had enough time. One night we'd be in port, then the next the Malice would be departing. Even when we spent months on Ziost or another world of the Empire, getting the ship repaired, Lord Ghang would be training us for most of the time. I can't speak for Vakkal, but for myself... I just never had any interest in something that'd be over in a few days, when Malice would be departing for elsewhere. I wanted something... more lasting, I guess. Something that wasn't just a fling, as enjoyable as that might be for some people."

Freyja wonders with wry humor just how she survived walking into a Sith lord's home... then she blinks, listening in quiet interest. When the Human's done speaking, she says with soft curiosity, "Why? Why do you wait for something more long lasting, if you don't mind my asking... especially while you're on a ship, and always gone? Or... are you hoping to find someone who's also apprenticing where you are?"

Fhazil smiles. "I don't mind you asking, not at all." He lifts his shoulders a little. "I think just for that very reason. I'd always be gone. How can you get to know someone if you're always away? The nights on Ziost can be cold... but they'd be colder aboard ship if I knew I'd be leaving someone behind and wouldn't see them for another year or two. As for getting involved with another apprentice..." He considers, then smiles a little looking to Freyja. "Well, it's not forbidden. I hadn't thought about it before, but it's started to seem like it might work. Someone else who's starting a long journey... learning and exploring the worlds within and without... her own person, strong-willed and energetic..."

Freyja nods, listening quietly. She's guessing poor Fhazil won't be finding a sweetheart any time soon, considering what's happened to Methel-ssa. Softly she murmurs, "Sounds nice..."

He nods, smiling quietly as he looks to Freyja. "Yes. I think she is."

Freyja starts to add curiously, "Are you looking for so-?" then blinks, registering what he said, "Oh... so you've already found her?" She feels a faint pang of disappointment -- then scolds herself for being foolish. Is it that hard to believe he might already have a sweetheart? Tch. She takes a slow breath, centering herself, then says calmly, "What's she like, then?"

Fhazil chuckles softly. "Well... I may have. As they say on Alderaan, though, it takes two to dance a suite. Whether she feels the same way is another thing entirely." He considers for a moment, looking over to the Balmorran. "Well, like me she's... apprenticed, in a sense. She's insatiably curious, has more energy than anyone I've ever met... and I would wager is the most courageous person I know of, to walk into a Sith lord's home just to see if said lord was 'all right.'"

Freyja nods, listening thoughtfully -- then blinks startledly, "Er... what?" For a confused moment she wonders -- are there a lot of apprentices that do that sort of thing, walking into the lairs of Sith lords?! Common sense reasserts itself a moment later, and she blinks again, still startled, raising her head up and resting her weight on her elbows and forearms, "I... what?!" A moment later she adds suspiciously, "Are you teasing me?"

Fhazil blinks a bit at the reaction, then he grins sheepishly, cheerfully shaking his head. "Though I know she's a Jedi Padawan and not a Sith apprentice..."

Freyja rolls smoothly to one side and then to sitting upright in one flowing movement. She looks... confused, disconcerted, a bit unsure... not unhappy, though. She gives the other Human a somewhat bemused, sideways glance as she settles into a lotus position. "I... um... all right." She has absolutely no idea what to say! She glances at Vakkal uncertainly... is he grinning like this is a set-up?

Vakkal looks like he should be snoring, with his mouth lolling open like that, but he isn't. Fhazil doesn't look terribly nervous, though he maintains a sort of good cheer at Freyja's reaction. Freyja gives Fhazil another confused sideways glance from beneath her bangs. All right, neither of them seem to be mocking her. So... could that mean... he's actually serious?! Guys just aren't interested in her. That sort of thing just doesn't happen... not to Syf Rigg's sister. Uncertainly she verbalizes her thought, "Are you... serious? You're not just... fuzzing my tail?"

Fhazil shakes his head quietly. "I'm serious! Freyja, you are all those things, and more. It began when you didn't kill us out of hand, it strengthened when I saw how... energetic you were, and it was sealed for certainty when I saw how brave you were to go to Methel-ssa." He glances over. "And I'm not fuzzing your tail. If you really want, though, I can fuzz Vakkal's tail, sometimes he likes that..." It's perhaps confirmation that Vakkal is indeed asleep when the canid Sith doesn't come back with a witty retort.

Freyja blinks, listening... then has to stifle a giggle in spite of herself at that last comment! She grins over her muffling hand, her eyes dancing as she looks at the big dog Sith. She takes a deep breath... then smiles. What an odd day... he said he liked me! She giggles again, quietly, at the thought that it's a Sith telling her this... then grins, turning her slightly flushed face up to the sun. Who cares if it's a Sith... someone likes her! With another small thrill of pleasure, she remembers Zero said she was nice too... hm. Are they planning this together to... to cheer her up or something? She looks at Fhazil, her eyes narrowed thoughtfully, although her voice isn't irritated, "Have you been talking to Zero about me or something?"

Fhazil's expression blanks in confusion. "Zero? No, I haven't, actually. Should I have? Why do you ask?"

Freyja thoughtfully trails the silken cord of her braid through her fingers -- then smiles sunnily in slightly nervous relief. So they aren't just making this up to cheer her up -- apparently they really do like her! "No reason... just wondering..." She grins happily, absently thinking that it really is a very fine day... sunshine, flowers... lovely! "So... who is the altar in Methel-ssa's quarters set up for? I didn't realize the Sith had religions of their own...?" She adds thoughtfully, remembering (and unwittingly changing the subject -- someone liking her is a nerve-wrackingly new idea!), "The candles were all burned down. And there was a lovely chalice that'd been holding some blue colored wine, I think... but it'd been thrown on the floor so hard it dented."

Fhazil smiles a bit at the change of subject, but doesn't sound insulted or put off. "It's not really a religion... well, I suppose in some senses devotion to the Force is a kind of religion. Some Sith use altars or symbols as a focus when meditating. The candles... they've been burning ever since I've been here. She would replace them daily. I guess when Qatto Verg was in her, he didn't concentrate on that. The chalice... I don't know why that'd be thrown down, unless she was mad or upset enough -- maybe when Verg let go of her she got angry and upset about what he'd done." He makes a quiet sound. "Shame about the sapphire wine, though. It's really hard to find outside the Empire."

Freyja curiously asks, "Is it good? I've never seen blue wine before. I guessed it had to be wine." Dryly she adds, "Ordinarily 'blue juice' is the common name for the drug used to put animals to sleep. It's shocking blue to warn you it's poisonous as Hela!" She adds in sudden puzzlement, "Wait... they worship the Force?! How can they do that, when they yank it around so... so painfully?" She adds slowly, "The... symbol... like an eclipse, done in shining... I don't know, hematite? It was really pretty..."

"Not really worship it. Sorry, I guess I misspoke. In terms of devotion to study of it, it's like a religion. There are some people in the Sith Empire who worship the old gods, and others who do ancestor worship." He deadpans, "With the weirdness on Korriban, that's kind of understandable." Then he nods at her other query, "It's a kind of wine," he grins, "and it's definitely not poisonous. Mildly intoxicating, but not poisonous." He nods. "That's an old symbol, for the Sith teachings and the Sith Empire itself. Nobody's really sure where it came from. I've heard it said that it's older than the Empire."

Freyja considers, then says even more slowly, "Poor woman... all the things she cared for, used thoughtlessly by such a malicious spirit. How... horrible." She shudders -- she's very glad suddenly she didn't have to see everything she loved or appreciated or cared about so abused. "So... she has to convince the lords of War coming here that she was possessed, doesn't she." She thinks a bit, then says puzzledly, "How will she do that? The only person I know of that saw it... is, um..." she blinks at the sudden realization, "-is me!"

Fhazil thinks for a moment. "Well, there are ways. The Lords coming with Shen Ravos will be able to scry what happened, and they'll be able to see Qatto Verg's mark on her. It's kind of creepy, imagining someone else's fingerprints on your own soul, and that must not be making her feel good, but it'll help the Lords to see the truth of the matter."

Freyja frowns unhappily, suppressing another shiver. That's a disgusting thought. She takes a slow breath, pulling serenity around herself, and nods quietly, "Then she does have resources, good." Her small smile is wry. She can't imagine the Sith lords believing one small Padawan's word... nor does she want to imagine how she'd get to that predicament!

Freyja sighs, shaking her head once sharply to clear the unpleasantness from it. What she needs is a nice, hot, steamy soak in the monastery's baths. She looks up at Fhazil, sniffing slightly. He's been getting sponge baths, but... is it about time for the bandages to come off? She tilts her head consideringly, then asks, "How do you feel? I was just wondering if it was time for the bandages to come off so you could take a proper bath." She smiles, holding up a hand, "Don't worry, I know you have a nudity taboo... if you want I'll make sure there aren't any females there while you're soaking, all right?"

Freyja shifts to settle quietly next to the sleeping Vakkal, and gently runs her fingers through some of his fur, leaning close to sniff. Is he getting a bit musky? He should be pretty far along in regards to healing, too. Surely enough to take the bandages off by now, even if the fur's not all grown back yet?

Fhazil grins quietly. "They won't ask you to testify, if that's what's bothering you. Besides, I imagine Naga Sadow will want to talk with Methel-ssa personally." He shivers a bit. "I was looking at the snow from the battlements of the fortress on Ziost one day, when I... just sensed a presence nearby. Even without looking it was almost overpowering. I couldn't bring myself to look. Whoever it was spent fifteen minutes looking out at the silent snow. It wasn't until after they'd left that Vakkal came up and asked me what the person had said. 'Said? They didn't say a thing, and I didn't ask! Didn't even look. Who was it?' Vakkal got this incredulous expression and said, 'Brother, you were standing next to Naga Sadow for fifteen minutes.' I almost collapsed right there..." He blinks a bit. "Er... it's not that I have a nudity taboo, Freyja, it's... well, habit, I think. Ziost is very cold..."

Freyja giggles quietly at Fhazil's commentary, then flashes a mischievous grin over her shoulder at Fhazil again. Her tone is very dry, "Ah, I understand. Hai, indeed... the coldness of Ziost doubtless also caused you to get that blank look and stare when I was shooting Jiosch too, eh?"

Vakkal goes *urk* and yawns a little. "Whomever's doing that, I'm pleased to meet you and please don't stop," he mutters wryly. Then he opens his eyes a bit, and blinks them wider. "Oh! Padawan Freyja, sorry, I must have fallen asleep. I heard some sniffing and thought it was another of my people..."

Vakkal stands a bit shy of six feet, and in form is a plantigrade canid with some feline features; a species not known to the Republic. With a long muzzle and emotive, perked ears, the image of a lupine is very strong, though he has slitted eyes much like a cat's, and the claws on his large hands are not visible unless he stretches. He is somewhat husky in build; clearly he relies slightly more on strength than on his agility. While normally he would be wearing a black leather tunic over a loose, dark gray shirt and trousers, and loose black cloth boots, instead currently he is in a medical tunic belonging to the Marnaas monastery infirmary.

Freyja giggles cheerfully at Vakkal, "I'll take that as a yes, you're willing to try taking off the bandages for a bath!" She blinks over her shoulder at Fhazil, "Great goddess! Next to the Shadow himself?!" She blinks again, turning back to Vakkal and pulling out a short, sharp knife to start carefully cutting the bandages free, "I wonder what he looks like... or if he's even a he... don't move, please, Vakkal..."

Fhazil arches an eyebrow. "'The Shadow'? I think he'd be flattered by that. And from what I've been told, he's a 'he'." He blinks, then coughs, looking skyward. "I won't deny that the person doing the shooting was distractingly attractive. Pity it didn't work on Jiosch. Wrong species."

Freyja carefully and slowly works all the tape and bandages free of Vakkal's fur, then ruffles the longer, unshaved fur gently, "There we go! The stickiness will soak off in the bath. Looks like the wounded area is healing nicely... and the fur's starting to grow back nicely there too." She smiles, quietly admiring the glints of russet, ebony, silver, and gold the sunlight picks out in the big dog Sith's fur. She runs a hand lightly across the sheen, adding, "You have such pretty fur, Vakkal."

Vakkal grimaces a little at the areas where the fur was shaved off. "I do hope so, Padawan Freyja. Being without an even pelt of fur can be disturbing. And thank you!"

Freyja grins at Fhazil, "Well, the first time I saw his name it was written, and I misread it -- I thought it said Naga Shadow, and I thought, 'Hela, he must be terrifying -- the shadow of the cobra?!'" She grins ruefully, "That, or he's of that ancient religion that says the cobra is sacred..." She giggles at Fhazil teasing her about being nude, then smiles at Vakkal, "You get used to it. It's even a relief, after a while... or it was for me." She pulls the slender braid over her shoulder and lays it lightly across Vakkal's hand, "I used to have hair this long. That's what barons' daughters do, you know?" Her smile gets wry, "Weighed so much... always got in the way, never did what I wanted, and it didn't help any that Syf's hair was that more lovely gold, instead of my rattatosk-y brown, and always curled and shimmered down her back..."

She sighs, her smile still rueful, then grins wickedly, "So when I joined the Jedi, first thing I did is chop it all off!" She giggles, "Father almost had an autumlas -- sideways! -- when he first saw!" Freyja ruffles her hair back from her face, beaming contentedly, "So... I like it nice and short -- easy to take care of!" She turns to start working on Fhazil's bandages, "Hold still now, please..."

Vakkal blinks. "That is... quite a long mane, especially for a human. And hideous in a battle, I imagine, unless you hope to trip up your opponent with it. Why ever would a noble want -- oh, that's right, I forget. Republic nobles aren't often expected to enter personal combat." Fhazil, meanwhile, is holding very still, trying not to wince with the sharp pain that he just knows is going to come with the removal of any adhesive.

Freyja grins amusedly over her shoulder at Vakkal, her voice lightly derisive, "Neh, we're supposed to look pretty and talk good!" She giggles, then goes back to the bandages... although after a moment she gives the Human a puzzled look, "Why are you wincing? I'm just trimming through the wrappings still -- that surely can't be hurting?" She frowns, muttering thoughtfully, "Hm... if it is hurting, maybe we shouldn't take the bandages off yet..."

Fhazil shakes his head, "No-no, it's just... the adhesive on most bandages catches my hair. It stings a little, I've just learned to expect it..."

Freyja blinks at the Human... then can't suppress another giggle, "You're silly! Did you see Vakkal wincing? I'm good at this!" She grins, settling cross-legged next to him and calmly continuing with the sharp little knife, "Have some faith, silly man... I'll be careful."

Fhazil smiles wanly. "Good point, sorry. I trust you"

Vakkal says, "Yes, Brother, don't be so scared of taking off bandages."

"Oh, not you, too!"

Freyja giggles delightedly, pausing a moment to recover before she starts up with the sharp little knife again. She's still grinning widely, though. She has less to worry about with Fhazil, in respect to fur catching in bandages... but far more bandages to slowly work off. Being slammed full length into a stone wall just isn't good for the system... little by little she clears the back and side of his head, "There you go. You're starting to fuzz out a bit too... and any white scarring hair won't show on you!" She grins, continuing... his right arm is finally loose, "Don't strain yourself, now. You can use that hand, but no lifting anything at all heavy."

Fhazil takes a breath, trying not to look sheepish as more and more of the bandages are cut off of him. He stretches and extends his arm a little, sighing a little. "Don't worry, I'm not about to! It feels good just to move it a little bit again..."

The bandages on his torso take the longest, strip after strip having to be peeled off... then down past where the hipbone cracked, and also the splinted leg. Finally she sits back with a small chuffing sigh, "Whew! There, all done. How do you feel? Careful, you don't want to pop your shoulder out again. Those tendons will all still be weak for a while."

Fhazil nods, wincing just a little and trying not to be self-conscious; that he's still sore helps a little. The skin that's been healed over from the bacta is a pale white. "I'll definitely try not to," he says, not trying to stretch so much as just see if he still has motor control. "It's certainly a relief, though!"

Freyja smiles, sitting back and watching Fhazil and Vakkal both moving carefully, enjoying the sensations of sunlight and air on areas of skin that were formerly painful and unable to tolerate any touch at all. It always makes her feel good inside to see patients get better. She smiles in faint rue, noticing the paleness of Fhazil's healing skin. Her's is always that warm honey-gold... which figures, she supposes, considering what's considered attractive by her people (and what her sister has in abundance) is that same delicate pale ivory.

Curiously she asks the big dog Sith, "Hey, can I ask you a question, Vakkal? Do you remember when I 'touched' you, a few days ago? You were unconscious... and you sort of mentally snarled and were aggressive, but you calmed down after a bit. I was wondering... you did that with me, but you stayed aggressive when Verg touched you -- you were snarling and snapping mentally at him. Why was that?"

Vakkal blinks, his ears swiveling a little. "When Verg touched me? Well... I'm not sure, really. I don't really know why I did that. I was unconscious at the time."

Freyja says, "Huh. Interesting." She ponders that for a moment, wondering why Vakkal found her non-threatening enough to be calm with... then a mischievous glint lights up her eyes, although her face remains innocently calm, "So... do you and Fhazil always tell the truth, except when scouting requires otherwise?"

Vakkal blinks at the question. "We've tried to," he says curiously. "We've never had a reason or motive to seriously deceive anyone." He shrugs. "It's just better that way."

Freyja nods with apparent calm interest, "Really..." and her eyes and teeth flash teasingly in a grin as she adds, "In that case, has Fhazil Taas said anything about me to you?" She giggles... she expects if he has, Fhazil will hastily shut Vakkal up -- but it's still fun to tease him a little!

Fhazil doesn't quite roll his eyes or plant his face in his palm, and Vakkal's eyebrows shoot straight up. "Fhazil? About you? To me?" He glances up to Fhazil for a moment. "Does the Republic still have laws preventing one from testifying against themselves?"

Freyja can't help herself, she bursts out laughing! Fhazil sighs a little. "Only if you're going to be saying something self-incriminating."

Freyja finally pauses for breath, still grinning, and gasps out, "Oh, my, that was funny. Heh. It's all right, Vakkal, I'm mostly just teasing Fhazil Taas there!"

Vakkal nods at Fhazil's words. "Oh, good," he says, almost with glee. He looks to Freyja. "He's expressed an interest in you, certainly, and his expression while you were in Methel-ssa's lair was one part horror, two parts admiration-"

"Vakkal!"

"I'm saying nothing self-incriminating, Brother."

"...we need to discuss your grasp of legal procedure." Fhazil's tone is very dry. Freyja blinks... then bursts out laughing again, falling over on the grass in delight!

Freyja finally recovers herself, sitting up to grin and (slightly gaspingly) apologize to Fhazil for teasing him so... and would they like to go have their baths now? Vakkal and Fhazil both agree, and put up no resistance. Freyja tells both of the Sith apprentices she'll be right back and to wait for her, then paces swiftly off to pick up something from her room, and to talk to the apothecary. She returns with a few small bags and clean clothes (for when they're all newly washed) tossed over her arm. After warning both Sith apprentices sternly that if they start getting tired they should say something, she leads them down to the geothermally heated baths, carved out of the caves under the monastery.

The caves are warm and slightly steamy, with several heated, gently burbling up-wellings of water in various sizes scattered across the soft-rock floor. There are no other bathers currently, due to it being almost midday, and it's very pretty and relatively well lit just now. The light is dim and easy on the eyes, coming in a rainbow of colored shafts of sunlight cast by many cleverly carved channels up to the surface, which are inlaid with jewel-toned pieces of glass.

Freyja takes the Sith to the bathing pool farthest from the doorway, and has them sit on the carved stone bench while she shakes out the contents of some of the bags into the bubbling pool. The gently aromatic scent of healing herbs steams up to the observers.

Freyja turns to the two Sith, "I have a nice, gentle soap here to help get the last remaining stickies out of your fur... but I wasn't sure. Fhazil Taas, would you be bothered if I helped, or should I just leave you both here?" She adds helpfully, "I brought a tunic for me, so the taboo bits will be covered?"

Fhazil blinks in surprise at the question. "Ahhh... er... it... might be best with the tunic, Freyja, I mean... I... don't think it'd be good for me to be distracted that much." He grimaces a little, "I'm still... kind of healing..."

Freyja gives the Human a curiously interested glance, not sure precisely what he means, but doesn't press. It's obvious Fhazil's embarrassed or something, so she just nods, "Not a problem. Shall we get you both into the bath first, then?" Both of the Sith agree, and lower themselves into the warm, comfortable water.

Freyja sets aside her weapons belt and breeches, tosses on the loose, light tunic, and swiftly removes her cropped top from under it. Then she loops her long, thin braid around her neck once, like a silken cord necklace, and steps carefully into the bath. A moment later she's showing them how to lather up their hands with some water and the herbal soap, to get the stickies off their fronts. "Don't use too much water, and don't scrub hard. Long, gentle strokes. I'll do your backs, hai?"

Freyja does Vakkal's back first, since he's far furrier than the Human, chatting happily as she does so, "So I've been asking you both a lot of questions... do you have any for me, or can I ask some more? Like... I was wondering if emotional combat makes it hard to remember the combat afterwards?" Her tone is cheerful and interested; she's asking out of curiosity, not in some attempt to make them feel guilty or bad or anything.

Fhazil takes Freyja's recommendation, and is very careful with the lathering. "Well... not really," he says. "Sometimes the memories of battles are a little blurry, but it helps that the Lords can read the Force. They can see what we forget to report about a battle if need be. But for the most part it's... kind of a weird experience. On the one hand it's all emotion, on the other it's as if you've stepped back and are watching events unfold as an observer."

Freyja is working the soap slowly and thoroughly through Vakkal's fur. She'd never tell him so, but she's enjoying the procedure quite a bit... it reminds her very pleasantly of caring for her pets as a young girl. She still misses them... but she couldn't take them along with her as a young Padawan. Running her fingers through Vakkal's fur is consequently very nice. She leans out from behind Vakkal, and curiously asks, "Are you in full possession of your faculties still, while fighting? I mean... well, what if your lord wants you to withdraw and attack somewhere else?"

Fhazil says, "Oh, that's part of the trick of it. It's not to hate the enemy or be angry with him, but to give release to anger, to use it like... like a vibroknife instead of a blast-bomb. So the trick is to not hate the enemy in front of you, so you can pull back and away when called to do so." Vakkal is simply too enraptured to say much of anything, thoroughly enjoying the scrubbing.

Freyja considers for a moment, absently massaging her fingers along Vakkal's back as she thinks. Finally she says slowly, "So... if you were told to withdraw for any reason -- to pull out the wounded, or to move the attack elsewhere -- that would work? It's not like a berserker-gang?"

Fhazil shakes his head. "Not at all. Some of us can go into a berserk rage if we're against the wall and desperate... but if it's gotten to that point, there's not likely going to be a withdrawal order."

Freyja says, "Huh... interesting." She considers a bit more, carefully running the strands of fur through her fingers to get all the stickies off, and adds, "What about teamwork? Does the anger allow for that, or is it just a large group of angry people, all with the same goal?"

Vakkal's back arches a little as he seems to loose all concentration on the conversation. Fhazil rolls his eyes a little. "I think you just blissed-out Vakkal, there. It depends. There's not a lot of cooperation, but we try to. War doesn't go too well without cooperation, which is why the Sith won so many battles against the Order at the start of the war, I think. We don't cooperate to the extent that the Templars do, though. That's just plain scary to watch."

Freyja grins cheerfully, "Blissed out? What a lovely phrase... good, I'm glad he's enjoying it. I like it too." She nods slowly at Fhazil's other commentary, adding thoughtfully, "Neither side does teamwork well, really, do they? As far as I know only the Templars have worked on it at all. I've never seen them, though, so I don't know what it's like. Do the Sith have anything equivalent?"

Fhazil shakes his head, shivering a bit and grimacing. "No, and I hope I never find out if we do. I saw a manus of them on Dantooine once. The five of them were surrounded by, it must have been ten journeymen Lords, the cream of Khon Shu Fan's guard. To see them work... it was almost disturbing. You couldn't sneak up on them! Anything one of them saw, the rest saw. It was like seeing one person with five bodies, all completely calm and serene and deep in battlemind. I saw more attempts at sneaking up on one of them meet a sudden blade to the face than I could count." He shakes his head. "It was surreal, Freyja, and honestly, if I ever hear that Templars are going to be in the forces I'm facing, I'm going to consider something other than personal combat with them!"

Freyja gently massages up Vakkal's back to the base of his broad neck, lathering the fur up. She has the sudden odd urge to rub behind his ears and see if he likes it... then realizes that might be seen as insulting -- so maybe not. She doesn't want to hurt Vakkal's feelings again, after all. She'd felt bad about blurting out the comment about healing. Instead she just carefully works soap into his fur with her fingertips all up and down the back of his head, careful not to get it into his eyes or ears. If he seems particularly enraptured by any particular spot she's rubbing, she'll slow down and pay more attention there.

She listens in silent fascination, half watching what she's doing, and half watching Fhazil. She murmurs, almost under her breath, "So... they share some sort of link, then...?" Vakkal simply seems too 'blissed out' to really make any comment, and it's hard to tell if he's enjoying any particular spot; he's tailless.

Fhazil nods. "Some sort, yes. I'm not sure what kind. It's nothing the Sith know. Maybe it's just because of the Sith stain, or that Sith teachings emphasize individuality and dynamism more than Jedi teachings do."

Freyja looks up from her pleased contemplation of Vakkal's enjoyment to give Fhazil an amusedly raised eyebrow... but doesn't comment. For all she knows... he's right. She massages silently for several moments... then finally says softly, "Must be quite something to... to know a group of friends that well, to be able to share like that..." She looks up and asks a little wistfully, "Do you ever wish you could do that too, Fhazil? Be part of a team like that?"

Fhazil pauses a bit, thinking... then sighs. "It's an intriguing concept. If something like that could be done, I'd like to see what it's like... but if it's what the Templars do... I don't know. The Templars can hammer us easily, and I'm just surprised we haven't seen more of them. It's just that... there's something really unsettling about them. What they can do would be admirable if I didn't see twenty Sith cut down like wheat in under thirty seconds by them."

Freyja studies the Human for a long moment... then says slowly, "Would it be more admirable to you... if it were Jedi instead of Sith being cut down?" She sure hopes he says no... wait. Templars, on Dantooine? But... Templars aren't supposed to leave the Temple, right? She gets a faintly confused, considering look as she massages the dog Sith's scalp and thinks furiously. What does she know about the battle on Dantooine?

She doesn't know much; it was one of the earlier battles in the war, and it lasted for months while the space fleets jockeyed for position above the world. Most of the Republic Guard and local militia units on the planet were forced to surrender and lay down their arms, while there were rumors that roving bands of Jedi and others took to the wilderness and made life miserable for the Sith. Since the defense fleet fell to the Sith battleships there was no further contact with the world, except occasionally the Republic and the Order would send "harassment missions" to Dantooine, to try to stir up trouble and get together an organized resistance. From all official reports, progress is slow but promising.

Fhazil sighs and shakes his head, pausing in his scrubbing. "I don't think so, Freyja. I know I come off as someone who glories in war, but I like to think there's more to me than just that. What the Templars do... like I said, it scares me. If the Sith ever did something like that, even if I doubt we could, I wouldn't want to see it."

Freyja looks faintly relieved at the Human's words, nodding silently. As she thinks she continues with what she's doing, Vakkal's head being shaped enough like a frehkee's that she's almost on automatic, unless he objects -- she tilts his head back gently, then uses a small shell gourd to rinse the soap off one side of his head at a time, one hand covering his eye as she does so.

While she's working she says, "Fhazil Taas... can you tell me more about the battle of Dantooine? I... didn't know the Templars were there." She hesitates, then adds, "In fact, I thought they weren't supposed to be... so I'm curious." She adds puzzledly, "And... how did you see the Templars, but not get killed yourself?"

Fhazil blinks, apparently surprised at the question. "Dantooine? Well... huh, I didn't think you'd be interested in that, but okay. Let's see... I went there in the last few months I was with Lord Ghang. We'd gotten word that another Republic Guard special forces team had snuck on-planet and had taken to the wilderness, so Lord Khon Shu Fan sent his guards out to deal with them. I went along to watch and observe from a distance with a few of Lord Ghang's soldiers."

"It took a few days but the journeymen Lords found the Republicans. That's when I recognized them as Templars, when they did that disturbing five-as-one thing. Lord Ghang mentioned that if I was ever unlucky enough, I'd see the Templars do that, but that we shouldn't have to worry about them there." He shrugs. "He was wrong, and he was pretty shocked to find out he was. I was lucky, though. I was about a mile away and when I saw what happened, we jumped in a speeder and got out of there. We called in some orbital fire support, but I doubt it did anything other than get them to move out of the area."

He adds, "Why? Why weren't they supposed to be there? I'd think that the Republic would use their best warriors against us, given half the chance."

Freyja studies the Human thoughtfully... then says slowly, "Fhazil Taas... if the Sith ship appears first here, and they pick you up due to Methel-ssa's request... how will you be able to meet us in Commenor in six months? Won't the Sith lords Methel-ssa or Ghang object to you simply taking off for a break?" She continues carefully rinsing Vakkal's fur as she speaks, running her fingers through the damp strands to be sure the soap is all washed out.

Freyja wishes a little disappointedly that there were some way she could have helped Methel-ssa. It would have been worth it, to be able to ask politely if Fhazil Taas could have some time off... well... then again, she's not sure how she'd ask for him. What does one say to a Sith lord, after all? 'May I have your apprentice, please, possibly for the rest of his life?' She grins quietly to herself, admitting that she wouldn't mind at all if she got to spend a great deal of time with Fhazil, Zero, and Vakkal. They're nice, and they make her feel special.

Fhazil pauses, then lets out a breath. "I promised. Lord Ghang'll understand that, and he'll make it happen. I don't think he'll be happy. And I'll hate to break it to him. It'll be hard. But he'll let it happen."

Freyja looks up from her careful rinsing of Vakkal's fur to give Fhazil a worried look. "That... didn't sound good. Why do you say it like that? Is this going to get you into trouble? I don't want that, Fhazil Taas... nor do I want him to, oh, say, sending someone along to see what you're up to."

He shakes his head quietly. "No. It won't get me in trouble. I just... he always looks upon his apprentices as if they were sons. He has hopes for all of us to succeed him someday, as Lords of War, to carry on a tradition of honor and pride. He'll be... disappointed."

Freyja considers that for a quiet moment. Sons. How... oddly... nicely... I don't know. She sighs softly, wondering not for the first time if her family would even like her, were she not their daughter... then firmly pushes that hurtful thought aside. She's got no answer, and brooding on it never helps. Instead she says softly, "Fhazil Taas... I don't want you to come do this, if it will be bad for you to help Zero and me. It's... no, I mean I... well, what we intend to try... it's not a sure thing. It could be wonderful... but... it could be a disaster too." She pauses, her hands lying on the seated dog Sith's shoulders, resting her chin lightly on top of his head as she thinks... then she says quietly, "If I knew how to disassociate any repercussions of my actions from Master Roakkana, I would, before I started this. But I do not know how to do so, and he has encouraged me to continue on this quest... so... I shall do my utmost to make it brilliantly successful, for his sake and Zero's."

Freyja's relatively comfortable, and half-thinking of her long-lost pets -- she companionably loops her arms loosely about Vakkal's neck, her chin resting still on his large, heavy head, like she used to do with her beloved frehkee. As she does so, she studies the Human with some worry, "I... maybe I should offer you the option to politely withdraw, Fhazil Taas. If you do not wish to do this, I will release you from your promise."

Fhazil shakes his head, chuckling quietly. "No, that's all right, Freyja. I want to do this. I'm curious as to what's driving you with such energy and curiosity. Whatever it is, it's driving you to a great length. And you need the help of Darksiders." He grins, and bows. "I humbly offer my services to you in that respect." He grins wryly. "Though I'm envious of Vakkal right now..."

Freyja can't see Vakkal's face, but he isn't moving. At Fhazil's comment, he moves a little, clearly more aware now but also obviously not complaining. "Believe me, I wasn't about to say a single thing..."

Freyja blinks, raising her head a bit to look down at Vakkal as best she can, "Er..." She blushes, pulling back a little, "Oh, dear... Vakkal, I'm so sorry. I..." her flush deepens, "I -- you feel so nice and furry, like my frehkee and... um... I..." her voice slides down into an embarrassed mutter that's hard to hear, "-used to hug my frehkee when I needed cuddl- er, wait, I really wasn't thinking of you as a frehkee, really..." Words fail her -- she has no idea how to make up for treating Vakkal that way. She finally sighs and leans forward to touch him quietly, "I'm sorry... I wasn't thinking."

Vakkal looks over his shoulder, smiling. "That's quite all right, Padawan Freyja. I am not insulted. Close contact is not an altogether unpleasant thing amongst my people."

Freyja sounds quite relieved, "It... isn't? Oh... thank goodness." Her face lights up a bit and she hugs him again happily, "I think that's smart. I have no idea why my people avoid it so much!"

Fhazil chuckles softly. "Who knows? Some Human cultures don't have that. I know the Core Human worlds -- Corellia and Alderaan -- have tended to, at varying times in their history."

Freyja just hugs for a moment -- she'd had a real panic-attack of sorts there for a second, at thought she might have irrevocably offended someone she likes -- and nods ruefully to Fhazil, "Balmorra too... at least that's how my family was raised. Rather carefully distant, even though there were polite hugs to greet. I..." she pauses, then says a little sheepishly, "I really like touch, and fur -- all the most wonderful and thoughtfully influential beings in my life have had fur, even if some of them went on four or six legs -- but you just can't be that touchy without getting into trouble, unfortunately, with most humans."

She finally sits back a bit, soaked but relieved, and asks, "Vakkal... have you been listening to the last bits of conversation Fhazil Taas and I have been having, about the questing Zero and I are going to be doing? I... thought I should give you the same option I just gave your Brother... if you wish to politely withdraw there'd be no hard feelings."

Fhazil grins quietly, while Vakkal makes a quiet sound. "I... have been, Padawan Freyja, yes. I have no desire to withdraw. It is not common amongst my people to have portents from the Force, but... I believe that I may find much of what I am looking for by going with you. Both for my inability to heal myself and others, and with regards to the Oath of Fire. If I would make a request, however... I do not have the same confidence in leaving the Lords' service as my Brother does. In fact, I would fully expect to be assassinated by the Oath of Fire as soon as I set foot aboard the Fervor, in one way or another. Fhazil and I have discussed this, and we agree that finding some way for the Sith to believe me to be dead would be wise. That will give me much more freedom of movement, insofar as evading the Oath of Fire goes."

Freyja smiles, leaning comfortably against the big dog Sith as she listens. She also hopes to figure out, given some time, what it is that causes poor Vakkal such trouble when it comes to healing. "That's all right, Vakkal... Zero went out searching yesterday, out in the hills. We figure if the Sith ship arrives first, we'll take you out to a hidden location he found, and simply not mention you were here." She looks at Fhazil, "You'd have to not mention him too, of course, please?"

Fhazil nods quietly. "This need not be said. Vakkal's my brother. Ultimately, even Lord Ghang would understand if I never mentioned Vakkal, and why I could not tell even him."

Freyja adds dryly, "We're guessing the Sith ship will indeed arrive first, all things considered... and Methel-ssa will mention Fhazil Taas. If the Jedi arrive first, that's another issue entirely... and hopefully Master Roakkana will have no trouble, as Master of the monastery, at politely refusing entrance to those who arrive." She grins, "Of course, having the two of you continue to, um... what is it, suppress? -mute? -whatever it is you're doing, to the blight? That would help."

Freyja wonders thoughtfully if she should even mention her tentative back-up plan to the two Sith, regarding what she intends if the Jedi insist on entering the monastery... she adds in idle curiosity, "What species is Lord Ghang? When you talk about him... well... I don't know, I just find myself thinking you must feel about him much the same way I feel about Master Roakkana...?" Her voice is a bit uncertain, "Well... sort of, at least?"

Vakkal nods quietly. "I imagine he is, in that sense, to us. Lord Ghang is pureblood, descended from the original Sith race whose name has been forgotten; the same race from which the Massassi sprang."

Freyja blinks -- this is the first she's heard of this! "A... pureblood? Sith have nobility? I had no idea!" She ponders for a second... then says curiously, "What do they look like?"

Fhazil grins at Freyja's curiosity. "Well... not really nobility. Though most of the Moot is made up of purebloods. They have the same ruddy skin as the Massassi, but are taller, less slender. Almost human in their skeleton and musculature, and they're mammalian. They have... it's hard to describe. Not facial hair so much as whiskers, of sorts, but they're not felines. I don't really know how to describe them..."

Freyja listens with lively interest, finally exclaiming, "Oh, I wish I could see one!" She pauses -- then says, "Wait... what am I saying... they're all Sith lords, aren't they?" She laughs ruefully, "Oh, well. Be interesting, still." She adds curiously, "I wonder where they came from... if it's evolutionary parallelism or there was some common descendant, ages ago..."

Fhazil grins and nods. "They are Sith lords. Or most of them are. The ones who aren't keep to themselves."

Freyja sounds even more curious, "Keep to themselves? As in warn everyone off, or as in hide, or something else?" She wonders with quiet curiosity if she'd survive a meeting with Lord Ghang. She grins to herself, thinking, Well, if a catta can look at a queen...! The more she hears about him, the more interested she is in meeting the entity that has so impressed both Vakkal and Fhazil Taas.

Fhazil shakes his head. "I'm not really sure. They just aren't seen, and nobody asks. Some of us think that they have their own planet, hidden somewhere in the Empire. Ziost certainly isn't it. The only time Vakkal and I ever saw any pureblood other than the lords of the Moot was when Khon Shu Fan brought his daughter to Ziost to introduce her to Naga Sadow at a military reception."

Freyja looks fascinated, "Really! What was it like? What was she like? Was it fun? Was she nice? What happened?!" As she speaks, she realizes she's yet to do Fhazil's back, as promised, so she bounces to her feet, accidentally creating a small wave in the process, aimed at the Human, "Whups. Sorry about that... whew!" She tugs on the sticky tunic, "Hot in here... anyway, let me get some soap and I'll do your back too, Fhazil Taas." She adds cheerfully, "Go on! I want to hear what it was like, if you don't mind?" as she lathers up her hands and starts carefully massaging down the Human's back.

Fhazil and Vakkal exchange looks. "Erm... well," Vakkal says, as Fhazil smiles sheepishly and turns -- but not before he realizes Freyja's tunic is soaked through. He looks studiously ceiling-wards. "She was beautiful, for a Human, I imagine. One of the younger apprentices fainted at the sight of her, which seemed to amuse some of the Lords -- and Fan Neit herself, too, actually. Eyes like fire-opals, and hair like a black river."

Fhazil makes a sound. "She was beautiful and she knew it. Which made her all the more alluring to some but scared me far away from her. Besides, she was there to meet Naga Sadow. He might have been amused if someone approached her, but Khon Shu Fan certainly wouldn't have been." The three of them left halfway through the reception, as is custom, to talk in relative privacy."

Freyja nods soberly, listening, "Hai... all the people I know that know they are beautiful seem to have disturbingly little trouble in... in using people." She wrinkles her nose... then goes back to massaging Fhazil's back with her fingertips. Then she blinks, looking up from the Human's back, "Wait... she was a Human? I thought you said she was a pureblood?"

"Yes, she was. I'm sorry, what did I say to intimate she was Human?"

Freyja says, "Oh, I'm sorry... I thought, when you said she was beautiful for a Human..." She grins embarrassedly, "My mistake."

Vakkal nods, "I'm sorry. I meant that to a Human she'd be beautiful."

Fhazil arches his own back a little, his own form of 'blissing out.' "Well... she or her father were hoping for her to be the mate of the most powerful man in the Empire. She'd probably already be well versed in politics. She certainly carried herself like she knew what to do, so I imagine there's some sort of vicious intrigue going on wherever she'd been."

Freyja sighs softly, faintly disappointed (although she's not sure why exactly) at the news that beauty and vicious politics go hand-in-hand as much with the Sith as with the Republic. She murmurs quietly, "No dancing then? Pity... oh, that reminds me!" She looks up, still gently working down the muscles of Fhazil's back, "How in the Midrealms do you duel only to first blood... with a lightsaber?!"

Vakkal deadpans, "Very, very carefully. It's one reason lightsabers haven't caught on so much with the Lords of War. Lords of State like them sometimes, but it's the Lords of Smiths who have really done the most with lightsabers. These days, a Lord of Smiths without a lightsaber of unique design is unusual."

Fhazil says a bit distantly, "And there was dancing. Nothing like the Alderaanian suites or Corellian folk-dancing, but some formal dancing."

Freyja sighs again, wistfully and internally... 'eyes like fire-opals, and hair like a black river'... such a lovely phrase, much like the other one she's heard repeatedly, 'hair like liquid sunlight, skin like virgin snow'... softly she murmurs, "Wouldn't it be lovely... if things that were beautiful on the outside... were beautiful on the inside too...?"

Fhazil grins quietly, and says almost without meaning to say it aloud, "They can be, though, Freyja, and are. With you..."

Freyja shakes her head gravely at Fhazil, misunderstanding, "No. I couldn't help my sister." She goes still, her face going expressionless and her gaze going very, very distant. Her tone is almost guilty, "I... we were best friends, as children... everything else in our life might change, but at least we had each other. Oh, we squabbled and fought, it wasn't perfect... but... we did try to be there for each other."

Freyja bites her lip, feeling a lump come up in her throat and not really knowing why, "But... but I left, to be a Jedi... and the last time I went home, a little less than a year ago, she... I don't know. She'd changed. I'd changed... something happened. She was... distant; completely and impatiently wrapped up in herself. She only had two topics of conversation -- herself, and holovids. It didn't matter how many other types of conversations I tried to start... either she or Father would boredly change the subject to her or holovids..."

Freyja is silent for a second or two -- then rubs the back of her arm against her eyes, muttering, "Think I got some soap in my eyes..." She determinedly goes back to lathering up Fhazil's back.

Fhazil shakes his head quietly. "I'm sorry, Freyja," he says softly. "I meant that you are beautiful both within and without. But I'm sorry to have brought up bad memories." He hesitates for a moment, then says wryly, "Concentrate on the now. In a day or so, we're going to have either Jedi Volc or a gaggle of Sith Lords to deal with. That'll have to be easier to handle..."

Freyja massages with great focus, saying firmly, "Don't be sorry, Fhazil Taas... it's not your fault at all." She simply concentrates on what she's doing for a while... and then what the Human had just said starts to register. Maybe she should suggest her back up plan to them... better to know now, after all, if they both hate the idea. "Um... hai. Well... I had a thought about if the Jedi arrive first... but I don't know if you'll like it. Do you want to hear?"

Fhazil smiles quietly, wondering what'll happen when he fails a third time to land a compliment on Freyja. "Well, I'm certainly intrigued."

Vakkal says wryly, "I am as well. I don't think Volc will be very happy to see us."

Freyja says slowly, "All right. Well... the goal is to make sure you're both not taken away by the Jedi, hai? So... Vakkal doesn't have a lord right now, so..." She falls silent, wondering if she's going to offend the big dog Sith with her offer... well, no way to know until she tells him. She takes a deep breath, straightening and resting her hands on the Human's shoulders, to look over his head at Vakkal.

Unwittingly Freyja's already starting to pull the mask or persona of nobility on; her voice is composed and sure, and she stands with quiet authority, "I am the Lady Freyja Rigg, and it is my right as scion of the House of Rigg to take hauskarls into my service. The sapients-at-arms of Haus Rigg have provided life-long loyal service, for we do not dismiss our hauskarls, barring incompetence -- we protect them in return as well, unless they themselves have asked to be dismissed."

She pauses a moment, watching the big dog Sith for reactions. Barring flattened ears, she continues, "If the Jedi insist on entering the monastery, past Master Roakkana's objections... would you care to have this position offered to you?"

Vakkal blinks, then almost falls out of the bath in surprise. Fhazil is also blinking surprisedly. They look at each other. Vakkal regains his voice. "I... am surprised and stunned." For once Fhazil can't come up with any sort of witty retort.

Freyja is, oddly enough, almost entirely unaware of how well she can wear the mask of nobility when necessary. Standing there with a wet tunic plastered to her slender form, she yet still manages to convey a quiet dignity, a sure pride that demonstrates clearly it is not clothes that make the man -- or woman, in this case. She waits calmly and patiently for Vakkal's decision.

Vakkal swallows, then nods, "The only trouble I can think of is that if the Jedi know I am alive, then it will get back to the Empire, I'm sure."

Fhazil says, "And it puts you in a bad position too, Freyja. The Order is sure to contact your father, probably even as soon as Jedi Volc hears that, knowing him."

Freyja says quietly, "My father would publicly support my decision. I am his heir and representative. He would lose face to not do so... and he knows I would not do this without compelling reason." She says nothing about how he'd react in private -- that's only her problem, not the problem of the two apprentices.

To Vakkal's objection she simply nods. If Volc hadn't known them previously, it would have worked... but he does know them. She considers for a moment, then sighs softly, saying, "Indeed. Perhaps simply moving you out into the hills, regardless of who arrives first, would be wisest." She sighs softly again, starting to relax out of playing the difficult (for her) persona of aristocrat.

Vakkal glances to Fhazil. "Is there precedent...?"

Fhazil shakes his head, looking dazed. "I... I don't know! The Lords of State would go nuts if they heard of it. A Sith officer -- formerly of War, now apprentice to a deceased Lord of Smiths, serving as hus... haus... er, Soulguard to a noble in an enemy nation... said noble also being a Jedi, ideological antithesis of the Sith themselves..." He thinks, then says casually, "It might work, at that. No precedent, no pain, you know?"

Vakkal snorts a bit. "You're just being flippant because you had your back washed."

"I am not being flippant! Besides, this might get you some protection if the Oath of Fire discovers you're alive and comes after you."

"I hardly think that Baron Forsetti -- is that his name? -- is going to be very pleased at his daughter's choice of Soulguard."

"It beats going to a Jedi gaol. Or the Pinnacle..."

Freyja mouths curiously, soulguard?, then smiles ruefully, starting to gently massage Fhazil's back again. She's moving like her normal self again, "Oh, Father would probably find it a secret source of pride, even as he griped about it to me. He's big into individualism and making decisions that reflect well on the family... and this would." She adds over the Human's shoulder to Vakkal, "Hai, Baron Forsetti Balder Rigg." She grins, gently poking Fhazil, "Hauskarl. Say it right, you provincial ex-Corellian!" She giggles quietly and goes back to lathering up his back.

Vakkal makes a quiet sound. "But Volc..."

"...will throw a fit but there'll be nothing he can do. The question is which will let the Oath of Fire know you're alive sooner: going back to the Empire aboard Shen Ravos' personal ship, or them hearing some third hand rumor through a leak in the Shadowguard?" Fhazil grins and adds cheerfully to Freyja, "Sorry. I only know Aurabesh and Sith. Anything else are provincial and regional dialects to me."

Vakkal grimaces, clearly thinking. "Padawan Freyja... do you know what it means to be a Soulguard? Er... first... what is a... hauskarl?

Freyja laughs, cheerfully ruffling Fhazil's white mane -- with soapy hands, "Tch! Blasphemy!" To Vakkal she says more soberly, "A soulguard? No, although it sounds... significant." She pauses, soapy hands resting on Fhazil's shoulders again, and considers how to best explain.

Fhazil erks! and laughs quietly. "You're the one who called me provincial!"

Vakkal nods soberly. "The Soulguard is the more proper translation from Sith what Republic linguists have called 'bodyguards' or 'life-guards.' It is one who is willing to defend to the death and beyond the life of the person he is charged with. In return, the Soulguard is immortalized in memorial by the one he protects, and in the Sith Hierarchy earns the right to be interred with his Lord." He pauses, then says wryly, "Somehow I don't think that's quite what a 'hauskarl' is..."

Freyja says slowly and consideringly, "A hauskarl... traditionally, and today still, that is the person you entrust your life to... sort of like a bodyguard, but far, far more. There is a binding, often life-long oath between you of mutual support; it is a matter as much of honor as of agreement. They may represent you publicly, if necessary, and so should be people who will not dishonor you or your house. You will be asking them on occasion to risk their lives for you, and so you should be a person worthy of that honor." She pauses, then says quietly, "If you wished me to offer you this position, I promise I would do my best to live up to that obligation, Vakkal."

Freyja blinks as Vakkal's words register... then looks fascinated, "How... interesting. Actually, famous hauskarls are interred in the family lot, hai."

Vakkal blinks a little. "Well... not at all unlike, at that. This is... a great responsibility, Padawan Freyja. I would not want to embark upon it unless I was certain that I was capable of fulfilling it."

Freyja's slow smile is quiet and sure, as she goes back to rinsing soap off Fhazil's back, "I would not have offered you this option, Vakkal of Khar Valos, were I not sure you could."

Vakkal nods quietly, biting his lip. "I... would like some time to consider it. I know that it must be decided quickly, and I will have an answer for you well before the Jedi arrive."

Freyja nods calmly, "That is a good answer. Consider, and decide wisely for your life." She will, with the same calm and without warning, pour water over Fhazil's head. She can't repress a giggle at the sputtering! She grins cheerfully, "You, on the other hand, as always, are more difficult!"

Fhazil's yelp is quickly followed by his wry comment, "Wanna see why so many people think Vakkal and I are really brothers?" which is rapidly followed by a mighty shaking of his long-haired head, splattering water all over the place.

Freyja laughs, whirling her face away to keep soapy water out of her eyes. When he's done she cheerfully dumps more water over his head, "Still soapy, I see!"

Fhazil grins, giving a toss of his head to get his hair out of his eyes. "Not as soapy as before you dumped that water on me!"

Freyja grins, "Alas... oops, look, I slipped!" She pours more water on him. She figures eventually all the soap will get rinsed out, even if it's taking a while at this rate!

Fhazil yelps again, and Vakkal laughs uproariously. "Hmph! All right, am I rinsed off enough yet? Or am I going to be have to find a hose in here somewhere? Let's see, oh, here's a bucket, that'll do nicely..."

Freyja scrubs her fingers lightly through his hair as she pours more water, answering cheerfully at the same time, "Close your eyes, silly! There we go... anyway. So... you, inconveniently, still have a lord, so I thought of something else for you. Remember the old stories about space captains surrendering their swords symbolically for ransom to space pirates, back when there were still gentleman pirates?" She grins, "Well... you could surrender your sword to me, as a gentleman, perhaps?"

Fhazil's grin fades slightly, to become a bit of a smile as he considers Freyja's words. "I remember them pretty well. And there are still some gentlemen and lady pirates out there." He thinks, then nods. "Yes... I think that will do. I don't know if it'll convince Volc that I'm on my best behavior-"

Vakkal snorts a little. "As if anything could?"

"-but I'll do it. I'll be glad to do it, actually."

Freyja giggles at Vakkal's words, then raises the hand holding the now-empty shell she uses to pour water in emphasis, "Remember, this is only a fall back plan. If the Jedi do not insist on coming into the monastery, we don't have to worry about this. All right?" She looks inquiringly at both of the Sith.

Fhazil folds his arms, grinning wryly. "Of course. Backup plans are important to have. It'd have to be dire straits for me to go into something without a backup plan. So... what is my ransom to be?"

Freyja puts both soapy hands on her slender hips, and tilts her head slightly, regarding Fhazil. She has to ask for something... but too much would be wrong, and too little would be potentially insulting. Then she grins as inspiration strikes, "You're a gentleman. Surprise me with something suitable."

Fhazil laughs and sweeps a bow. "I'll have to think of something suitable, then." Freyja grins cheerfully, bowing gracefully in return.

Later that day after the bath with the Sith, Freyja (now fully clothed) goes to check on Inspector Shang. The Zabrak woman is sitting at the desk, reading from what looks like one of the books from the monastery's library. She looks up as Freyja enters, smiling quietly. "Well, good day, Padawan Freyja," she says. "What can I do for you?"

Freyja smiles, pleased to see the inspector is looking less hollow, and much better, "Hello! I wanted to ask your advice, please. Also, you said you'd be willing to write us a note of introduction, and to loan us your sword, so the folks on Zhar would be willing to talk to us?"

Shang nods. "Yes, I have the letter for you here," she holds up a parchment, sealed but without any markings, "and I believe my shard-sword is in the custody of the monastery. Master Roakkana should be able to release it to you."

Freyja looks both a bit surprised the letter is ready, and then touched, "Thank you so much!" She starts to reach for it, then grins a little sheepishly, "May I read it?"

Shang nods, smiling. The letter is fairly simple. It is written mostly in Aurabesh, and serves as a letter of introduction from Shang to an unnamed reader. What is most interesting, however, is the sometimes odd wording -- in places sounding almost like archaic Aurabesh, in other places very modern. Besides that, the letter is fairly banal.

Shang points out some things in the letter which contribute to a sort of code. The archaic phrases are part of it, the placement of the words are another. There is a message within the message, she notes... and a further layer, as well, a code within a code, which explains what the travelers hope to accomplish and Shang's support and endorsement for their journey.

Freyja nods, listening with interest. It's obvious inspector Shang is being very studiously careful... certainly worthy of a conspiracy that's supposedly lasted several thousand years. "I see... all right, thank you again. We all really appreciate this." She will leave the letter with Shang, knowing that Zero will be curious also, and that it should be closed with Shang's personal seal. "In that case, there were two questions I wanted to ask, and I hopefully have one bit of news that might please you somewhat. First, how should we find the folks on Zhar? Is there some beacon or something we should watch for?"

Shang nods, leaning back in the chair. "That's rather tricky, of course. They can't just open their doors to anyone who comes seeking them. There have been few attempts by the Jedi to find them since the Heresy Wars, but they would rather not take risks. When you arrive at Zhar you will have to go to a mining outpost in the inner asteroid belt. The outpost manager will have the information you need. Tell him you are from the Golden Star Mining Consortium out of Bzhant. He will know who you are, confirm your credentials, and then tell you how to reach the Silver Path at Zhar."

Freyja nods, taking cryptic notes, "All right." She finishes and looks up again, adding, "And... my second question was -- is there anything you can recommend that Zero and I can start working on now, to start training together?"

Shang glances at Freyja's note taking, but does not comment. She considers for a moment. "I have never participated in a triat, but if there were some things I could recommend, it would be to fully understand and trust the other mantles. Meditate with Zero upon the same things, focus your thoughts together. Practice touching each other's minds -- I suspect you might be better at that than he is. Do it when things are quiet and relaxed and peaceful, and when you're not holding a conversation." She adds this a little wryly, grinning a bit. Freyja blinks... then blushes faintly and nods firmly at the comment about practicing when she's not holding a conversation!

Shang continues, "You are working on being able to find each other through the ebb and flow of the Force. In time you will be able to do it as second nature, but for now you must concentrate on the contact alone. Along these bonds, you will be able to then share in the triat."

Freyja says, "All right, we'll work on that, definitely, and thank you. Let's see... she considers, then grins, "Ah! The one last thing I wanted to say, inspector, will hopefully be something that will please you. You remember how it was Methel-ssa's people who were trying to kill you? Well, we figured out that Methel-ssa was being possessed by the, er... I don't know what to call it, but it's basically Verg's spirit or something, after death." She grimaces slightly, adding, "Methel-ssa's thrown it off, and we think it's currently in Jedi Kuuna." Morosely she adds, "I wish I could think of something to do to help her... but anyway, that means it's not Methel-ssa who was trying to kill you -- apparently she doesn't want to kill anyone. It was that disgusting little Verg."

Shang arches an eyebrow. "Really? That's surprising. I was wondering why either of them would want me killed, and I had thought that it was Qatto Verg who would have wanted me dead more than Methel-ssa." She sighs a little. "It is a shock that Qatto Verg caused her to do so much destruction." She looks up. "Do not mistake her, Freyja. She may not wish to kill right now, but she is eminently capable of it, if it strikes her that there is a need. She is Sith. The Sith have in some part earned their reputations, though how they are portrayed in the holovids is probably very unflattering."

Freyja nods quietly, "I don't doubt it, inspector... but from what I've seen, the Oathers don't consider honor or restraint necessary amongst non-Force users. The few War Sith I've seen do. That, at least, gives us the option to try communicating, where the fanatic, rabid insanity of the Oathers doesn't."

Shang nods a little. "This is true. The Sith under Qatto Verg are... fanatical, in that sense. I can only imagine what sort of rage drives them. The Sith who pursue the war in a traditional, military manner are of a different breed... while they, too, are capable of being eminently pragmatic and of rages of epic proportions, they are somewhat more approachable. For the time being, anyway."

Freyja nods, saying slowly, "I certainly hope so, Inspector. I suspect one of the War Sith will end up being our Dark mantle."

Shang actually blinks. "A Sith? Well... you do have a number on hand, so to speak. I was hoping you would go to Uita'g to contact the Savalli Kho... but if one of the War Sith is willing to help you, then that works well enough. The tradition doesn't matter, so long as the Dark-mantle holds to a dualistic view of the Force and is a practitioner of the Dark side."

Freyja says dryly, "I... got the impression there really weren't many Savalli Kho left... and to be honest, I'm not sure I buy a binary view of the Force any more. The id is seen as something bad; some primitive, instinctual, animalistic energy underlying one's personality -- something to be overcome by maturity. The view of the superego isn't much better, to my way of seeing it. It's apparently nothing more than culturally conditioning on the conscious mind, called a conscience. They've gotten shoved -- no, locked, really -- into these simplistic good/bad, light/dark pigeonholes... I think people are more complex than that."

"I'm hoping to be able to find out if there really is more to the mind -- and by extension, a triat -- than a good and bad part. I'm thinking I find the theories espoused by one particular philosopher much more compelling. There is no good/bad binary view... instead he sees female and male perspectives in each of us, called respectively the anima and animus. More fascinatingly, he recognizes there's a part of us we all would like to hide and deny -- he calls it the Shadow -- but he points out that stifling any part of our psyches will damage us, and that it takes the greatest courage not to smash down a piece of our personalities... but to face ourselves, to recognize all the pieces of ourselves and integrate these pieces into one coherent, powerful whole. He calls that individuation."

She takes a deep breath, then adds, "I want to find out, inspector! I want to discover if this is true, both for individuals and for triats -- can we truly be a more powerful gestalt if we don't try to deny who we really are?"

The Zabrak listens quietly as Freyja talks. When she winds down, Shang smiles. "You've given a lot of thought to it, Freyja," she says quietly. "Master Roakkana mentioned you had a great interest in the psychology of the various views of the Force, and I can see he was understating it. What will you do, if you and Zero and one of the Darksiders forms a triat, and it is everything you hoped for it to be? What then?"

Freyja opens her mouth to reply... then looks faintly sheepish and nods once at Shang's first comment. At the second she says simply, "If it works? We'll come back. We have to, to see how we can best serve our people. Ultimately war damages everyone and helps no one, except for the industrialists of the winning side. The people deserve better than that."

Shang nods quietly. "Well. First, let me suggest that you tell that to the Silver Path as soon as you arrive. They will want to relocate, and that will take time. As for the war... you are right. I warn you now, however, that it will be a struggle for you. The industrialists you mentioned... the Republic is rife with them. Economics is the Republic's lifeblood, and to threaten that will mean to make many powerful enemies. You will, at least, not be alone, however. Remember that. In none of your battles will you have to be alone; a single triat against a galaxy of assassins, bounty hunters, and Mandalorians."

Freyja nods unhappily, "I know, inspector. My father is one of those industrialists." She adds quietly, "I'm not sure yet, but the Sith I'm thinking of apparently likes me, and seems quite nice. It's my hope that this could lead to us both being a bit more willing to compromise when necessary... instead of always being in ideological conflict." She smiles a little shyly, adding, "Oh, I so hope to make it work -- I would love to have such a team of friends to stand with!"

Shang's brow arches again. "He is? Ah. The Human from Balmorra. Yes, that will be an unhappy state of affairs for you." She smiles. "A Sith likes you? Indeed. I hope I see what comes of it. The expression on some leaders' faces alone would be priceless."

Freyja looks a bit embarrassed, studying her booted toes, "Well... ah, I could be reading it wrong... I mean, I think he does...?"

Shang gives a soft chuckle, shaking her head. "Forgive me, it's a quite heart-lightening tale. I wish I could help you in that, but I would imagine any insight I could give would only apply to a Zabrak Sith, if there is such a thing."

Freyja smiles... then looks up suddenly, saying curiously, "Pardon? Who has been referring to me as the Human from Balmorra?"

"Oh, my apologies. As a government officer I know something of the major worlds of this sector, to which Balmorra lends its name. That Balmorra has a single barony under a Human is not unknown to me."

Freyja says, "Ah." She looks curious, "You researched the Jedi coming here then, as well as the Sith?"

"Of course I did, Freyja. Why would I not? Of course, information about the Sith was harder to come by, and there was much less. I did not know, for example, that Qatto Verg was a member of some revenge cult until he was on-planet."

Freyja nods curiously, then grins a little shyly, "Ah... I guess I just didn't think I was that interesting...?"

Shang smiles quietly. "It is not that you were automatically interesting, Freyja. I was cautious as to who was arriving on this world. I was glad to hear it was Master Roakkana who was coming here to take abbotage of the monastery. I will admit that what details I could find from the records were interesting. And don't worry, Freyja, I did no slicing. Any information I found, I gathered from the databases that I have legal access to."

Freyja looks curious now, "What did you find out about me and Master Roakkana, if I may ask?"

"Only that you are his most recent Padawan, that you are Human from Balmorra, daughter of Forsetti and Erde Rigg, sister to Syf Rigg, betrothed to Fafnir Jotunsen. You have been a Jedi for several years, and are on your first walkabout with your master. According to the Jedi Temple on Coruscant you did very well in logic and 'soft, internal' studies. They did not, of course, say what instruction you didn't do so well in. As for Master Roakkana, he is one of the most revered masters in the Jedi Order, and a proponent of the Balanced Force, as well. He is known to the Silver Path, actually, as one we can trust, though he has never been contacted by us. He is mild and gentle, and in all his time as a Jedi is unique in having never succumbed to the Wookie rage. He is seen by many as the last, best hope for support of non-Jedi Force traditions in the Republic, and has often spoken on behalf of them to the Jedi Council. Your master has a reputation for being a loose cannon, Freyja, but one that is extremely careful about where it rolls about on deck!"

Freyja winces slightly. She's still not thrilled about the planned dynastic familial alliance... apparently someone's been decided on now? Bleh. She has a vaguely unpleasant, resigned feeling any time she thinks about it. She pushes that thought brusquely aside and smiles, pleased at how well-thought-of her Master is. With pride she says, "He is pretty amazing, hai."

Then she sighs, her usual curiosity reasserting itself, even though about a subject she finds personally repugnant, "Fafnir Jotunsen? Hela's icy breath... they could have at least told me they'd selected someone." She gives a bleak glance at the Zabraki woman, "I don't suppose you know anything about him?"

Shang blinks. "Oh. I'm sorry, you didn't know? It was an article in Balmorra's society news, flagged for me just before you arrived. All I know is that his father is..." She frowns and checks her notes. "Ah, yes. I remembered correctly. His father owns Balmorra's moon." She says it rather casually, as if she were saying that the weather there was somewhat nice this time of year."

Freyja thinks for a bit, her face remaining carefully expressionless despite the sharp pang she feels inside. They could have told me, surely?

Shang sets down the data pad. "Truthfully, 'owning' a moon, even in this day and age, means little. Balmorra's moon happens to be a major producer of hydroponics and livestock that feeds a good portion of Balmorra itself. Hreidmar Jotunsen tends to be reclusive." She pauses, noting Freyja's non-expression, and straightens. "For the moment, Padawan Freyja," and she says the title deliberately, "worry about the Sith and the Jedi of the Order Militant. They are much more immediate -- and for the Sith at least, potentially lethal -- threats. There'll be time to worry about dealing with your parents afterwards."

Freyja nods, a small half-smile forced politely onto her face at the Zabraki woman's kind words. She doesn't really remember meeting the young man, although she vaguely recalls hearing about the family, the same way she's heard about other high-ranking Balmorran families. It's a serious business, after all, feeding all the Balmorrans. The business is even more lucrative because Balmorra is heterogeneous -- there are many species there, each with unique feeding needs. Feeding all of them is a huge business... feeding them well is something that takes financial artistry. And no matter what else, nobody has ever complained about the food on Balmorra.

Freyja sighs unhappily again, then just nods quietly, "All right. Thank you, inspector Shang... you've given me a lot to think about." She rises and bows politely, although her mind is quite obviously far, far away, then wanders quietly out of the room, looking considerably down.

[Previous Log] [Index] [Next Log]

Last modified: 2002-Jul-16 16:14:54

All material on this site is
Copyright © 2002-2024 Reality Fault
unless specifically indicated on each document.
All Rights Reserved.
Administrated by Reality Fault Webmaster