These Shattered Stars -- Logs

Of course, it only seems like it's slow going. Relatively, you're going hundreds or even thousands of light years a day. You're leaving the fastest airspeeder in the dust. But it still takes some time to get from here to there. With a long journey, such as from Kalarba to Zhar, the time seems to just drag.

The group has only just started the two-week journey, and are passing uncomfortably deep into Hutt space. Zhar is almost on the edge of the galaxy itself. What is beyond the Outer Rim in this region is barely known, even to the Hutts, who never went in much for scientific exploration. Hopefully with the arrival at Zhar there won't be nearly the issues they had on Tynnea, and they'll be able to pass on to the hiding place of the Silver Path with no problems.

Freyja keeps herself busy. She continues to practice with Vakkal and her triat friends, both through meditation and physically, using Kourakani at every suitable opportunity, in order to deepen the bond between them all. She also works on learning Sith from Fhazil, including the 'Tongue of Visible Whispers.' She gleefully swaps dances with him as well, teaching him the valse she learned as a child in exchange for the one he learned on Ziost.

She spends a little time during each of her meditations gently encouraging her two little flowers to grow as well... and in her infrequent spare time she considers questions which still perplex her, such as why is hyperspace travel hard on older individuals? How does one cure poisons through the Force? How can she 'listen' more closely to the Force? Why is Senator Kalatis apparently aiding the Sith and how can she stop that? How can she learn more about the various types of Force usage? Why did Balin Khoud have two Jedi Masters? Where is Atarangi, and will she and her friends be able to save the poor Jedi Fallen to its wiles?

Freyja's work with the plants seems to have little luck. While exceptionally hardy, the Oghan lotus and the more fragile Alderaanian rose are already start to fade a bit, their edges curling slightly.

It is perhaps chance -- or more likely, perhaps not -- but at one point while she is meditating on the small bowl before her, she senses a touch from elsewhere, from elsewhen. It watches curiously; it isn't the touch of something alive so much as an odd sort of quasi-life with the force of Memory behind it. Freyja realizes it is Kourakani. Though not the ancient Camaasi's memnii, what is behind that touch is what makes the Awatea lightsaber what it is -- its archetype.

The lightsaber seems to watch her workings in the Force as she tries to induce the buds to take root. Then, not at all intrusively, the faint tendrils of presence point out paths through the Force. Paths, a few out of thousands upon thousands; no, an infinitude that twist and turn and pulse through the Force, through which the Force-awakened may bring upon the universe hope and grief, life and death, joy and sorrow. Perhaps that is not the best metaphor, but for a brief moment that is how the Force and the Jedi's presence in the Force can be seen, as if an infinitely complex, infinitely beautiful geomantic Tree of Life, boughs heavy with energies, roots rich with forces.

Here the pseudo-consciousness Kourakani seems to say, then here. It is upon these paths Freyja finds a remnant of the Camaasi Jedi's memnii, the whirling, laughing dance she performed as clouds of golden pollen rose up to heal a land devastated by a Darksider clan's blight.

Light and life, for a brief moment in an infinitesimally tiny yet infinitely joyful spark, cast aside the inevitable darkness of that end which must eventually claim all things to make way for the new. The Oghan lotus, its very archetype steeped and rich in thousands of years as symbols of the Force, drinks in the energies Freyja influences towards them, sharing them with the rose. When her meditation ends and she sees the bowl with the two small flowers, she knows the blossoms themselves will die. But through the mysteries of the Force they have exchanged pollen and more, and within the soil lies the seeds of what will eventually become new plants -- and the flowers of those plants will be the Oghan lotus and the Alderaanian rose.

Freyja studies the bowl of incipient life, a quiet but growing happiness inside her. She strokes her fingers lightly along the lightsaber and smiles. Thank you for your teachings, Golden Dancer. Kourakani is silent, but comfortably warm to her touch both mental and physical.

Freyja happily decides to go work out with Kourakani some. It's three or four hours since she started meditating, and she wouldn't mind stretching out into some physical activity for a bit. She heads into the communal room, wondering if she can find a sparring partner.

Fhazil is sitting there at the table, humming some Corellian ditty to himself as he puts the finishing touches on one of the many components of the ship which require routine maintenance, a datapad and toolkit on the table beside him. He looks up as Freyja enters, and smiles. "Heyo, Freyja! Well, we won't have to worry about the backup inertial dampers acting up when we get out of hyperspace."

Freyja grins, "Good to hear. Umm..." She looks around, then hopefully asks, "Want to go work out some?"

He nods, grinning as he stands. "Sure! Lightsabers? Or unarmed sparring?"

Freyja smiles, "Lightsabers. Kourakani just showed me how to help the blossoms grow, and I'd like to say thanks by working with her some."

"Oh? Hey, that's good to hear! Sure, sounds like a great idea..."

Freyja beams, nodding happily and heading for the cargo hold, "Hai! She has so many wonderful things she's been telling me!" She tosses her thin braid back over one shoulder, draws Kourakani, and moves to the center of the room, dropping easily into stance. "Ready when you are..."

Fhazil nods, igniting Korotatinea. The sparring that commences more or less tells Freyja what she's looking for: there seems to be some conflict between Fhazil and the saber itself. There are times when his defense simply does not perform as well as it should, or an attack that starts as being easily able to crush Freyja's defense but which Fhazil holds back on at the last minute, opening him up. While she is not a saberfighting expert, her connection through the Three lets her see some of the mild tumult that takes place between Fhazil and Korotatinea.

Freyja pauses after a moment, bringing her saber up to a defensive position, "Hold, please." She waits for Fhazil to recognize that before continuing... things are odd enough feeling between Fhazil and his blade that she's tending towards caution.

Fhazil lets out a breath, bringing up his saber to a neutral position. "I was hoping this would all be resolved by now," he says morosely.

Freyja hesitates, then says carefully, "Um... Fhazil, do you and Korotatinea communicate at all? What is it you hope to have resolved?"

He extinguishes the lightsaber and sits on a bench set into the wall. "I'm trying to get Korotatinea to realize this isn't the world it was made in, and I'm not its first wielder. The one who first wielded it was... well, he was a Jedi, of that there's no doubt at all. But he had a... destructive bent. It was what his orientation was, I guess. If something needed to be destroyed, the Jedi of the time would send him, and either through the Force or Korotatinea... well, it was destroyed. Revenants, Darkside creatures, Darksiders who simply couldn't be reined in... this saber's seen a lot, and all of it in its first wielder's hands. I think they called one such as that 'the Iridescent Dispater.'"

Fhazil sighs a little. "I'm not that person, Freyja. In a lot of ways we're alike, in that we don't just cut loose on anything that crosses our path. But focused, disciplined aggression controlling unyielding destruction is Korotatinea's way, and has been for a long time. I've been... trying to get it to see I'm not that way -- that I'm just as comfortable not blasting a durasteel wall down if I can go through a door. Or holding back a bit if it means that I can leave my opponent alive."

Freyja quietly dismisses the tongue of flame that is Kourakani's blade, then settles thoughtfully next to Fhazil on the bench. "Who is the 'they' you're talking of, and what is the 'Iridescent Dispater'?"

"'They,' the Jedi of the time. I... Korotatinea once showed me a sort of... tribunal. It was on Ossus, it was midday, it was an open-air arena -- there was some sort of ceremony going on. The Iridescent Dispater -- the first wielder of Korotatinea... I think they called Jedi in his position 'dispaters' -- was being questioned about something that had happened, just so the Jedi could ensure what had happened needed to happen. A Darkside cult had... done some pretty horrible things."

Through the link, Freyja can tell the actions of some of the extreme Darksiders in the past still disturb him. "And the Order had sent him to deal with it. There was no redeeming the Darksiders, there was no parley with them, they were worse than mad. In the end, when all else was tried and had failed, the Jedi sent a dispater, the Iridescent One, and... he destroyed them. No quarter asked, no quarter given."

Freyja is silent for a moment... then just quietly reaches out and takes one of Fhazil's hands in hers, leaning gently and companionably against him. She murmurs quietly, "You are more than a breaker of doors and slayer of the insane, Fhazil. We'll... just have to convince Korotatinea of that also." She's silent for a while, thinking.

Fhazil squeezes her hand back gently. "So," he says, a bit more normally, "I guess Korotatinea still has the... the imperative to just cut loose. Whenever its blade was ignited in conflict, someone died. Coolly, methodically, with regret and sorrow it had to be done, as I guess Jedi deal with it, but... well, that's what happened."

Freyja nods slowly, still considering... then finally says, "Um... would you like to try meditating with me and Kourakani, to tell Korotatinea things are a little different now, and you're a Darkmantle, not a... a Dispater?"

He nods, "I'd like that, Freyja, yes, please. Maybe... maybe it'll help..."

Freyja brightens, pleased at a chance to help, "All right! Is now good for you?"

He nods, smiling. "Sure. We're on schedule with the maintenance."

Freyja thinks a bit, then says slowly, "Let's... see if the lightsabers can communicate directly with each other at all also." She'll gently urge Fhazil into a position to meditate so they're both touching each other, and so the lightsaber handles can be laid side by side so they also are both touching each other, and both the Humans. "There we go." She smiles at Fhazil encouragingly, "See you on the far side!" then lets her eyes go half closed as she silently slips into meditation.

The two meditate, and as they have had considerable practice so far, and with the link between them, they soon find themselves deep in that trance-like state. And between Kourakani and Korotatinea... they see something...

It is on a planet near the Core -- the star-packed twilight sky tells that much. A single moon sails through the sky. It is a small garden with weatherworn humanoid statues and marble pillars lined with calligraphy -- with a start, Freyja realizes it is on one of the Human estates of Balmorra.

"You haven't answered my question," the Camaasi, the one Freyja knows as the Golden Dancer, says.

The be-robed Human shifts a little underneath his cloak, setting his hood a little lower over his sad eyes. "I do not see how it is relevant. And I find it a little insulting."

She turns to him, her gold eyes unblinking. "All the more reason to answer it."

The dispater turns and sighs. "No," he says at length. "I don't enjoy what I do."

"Then why do it?"

"Because someone has to!" he says a little shortly, turning to face her. "You thrive in life and love, even when you were a hetaera and before Kourakani chose you. Our pale-gray friend finds his work towards the careful culling of that which ails a community, combined with the protection of that which would most benefit it. And I... I destroy. It is what I do best. Even my master knew this, asking another to train me when he feared he would not be able to keep me on the path of Light."

The Camaasi is silent as she listens. "It doesn't have to be-"

"It does, though. And better I, one who is Jedi, do it, than some near-Fallen who is on the verge of turning their back on the Order. I can do this work and do it well, yet I do not wish to do it, which is precisely why I was chosen as a dispater."

"You didn't let me finish," she says wryly. "It doesn't have to be so painful for you."

"You don't know what it is like to be haunted by the memories of six and a score Darksiders begging for their life, begging you not to kill them, even though you know to all corners of the Force they will never redeem, they will never recant, they will never turn from the vilest depths of the Darkside. I would not be raising Korotatinea against them if thirteen Jedi, different ones each time, did not feel these deaths had to be. They weren't fights. They were executions."

"Stop!" The volume of her normally quiet, normally laughing voice startles him, and he blinks, looking at her. Her golden eyes are flaring, an emotional light within them. "You're taking their sins upon yourself."

"No, of course I'm not, don't be-"

"You are saying you are little more than a murderer, little more than the creatures you have needed to cull! I cannot believe that, and I never shall. I have known you for too long. You are compassionate and gentle, the epitome of Jedi."

"I am a dispater of the Order-"

"You are still of the Order."

He looks at her for a few moments, then sits down heavily on a stone bench. She continues, "You care about the people of this galaxy, old friend. You recognize what so few Jedi realize -- what even I didn't realize until I took up one of the Three-Dawn sabers. A living thing cannot survive with a tumor within. The tumor must be cut out. You have never killed any who did not truly deserve it. The ones who have felt Korotatinea's burning kiss would have deserved, in any less enlightened society, slow and painful deaths.

She continues, "I know you know I don't fully approve," and he turns his head to look away. She kneels on the bench beside him, resting a hand upon his shoulder. "But you should know I believe what you have done is needed. Even the most beautiful garden must be weeded in order for it to become lush and vibrant." She gently puts her arms around his shoulders, gently tugging the hood off from his salt-and-pepper hair, despite his initial resistance to that. She rests her muzzle lightly against his head, breathing slowly as she holds the tormented man. "Even the night has the moon to chase away the darkest shadow, old friend," she whispers softly.

He says nothing in reply, but her words reach him. He would be well in the day, and he would deal better with what they had to do next. There will always be many who will call him a Dark Jedi, and it is true his soul is darker than most, but not so dark as to be a cold night. Rather it is the warm, comfortable darkness in which one may find warmth with another. The ones who call him Dark are the ones who do not know him.

A twinge of a thought takes her mind much later, when sleep has taken them both: a note of worry about Korotatinea. Destruction was so inherent in its nature. The saber-maker had told them the Awatea were iconic, that they were forged with concepts as much as with quies-ovo cells and crystalline lattices. She knows the saber-maker would not have forged Korotatinea too well as an implement of destruction.

But then again, he had forged Atarangi Rewara.

She can only hope there will be some way to convince Korotatinea of what she had finally managed to convince the dispater, before they had to hide the Awatea-Houari on Ossus, away from the Shadow Devil.

Fhazil seems confused through the link, as the vision ends, but with a better understanding of what happened. So too from Korotatinea does Freyja get the faintest sense of... it cannot be called 'realization.' The Awatea lightsabers seem, in some ways, eternal -- 'iconic,' as the Camaasi put it. But perhaps with the joining of the Memory from both it and Kourakani, the Black Destroyer has some better sense of what the Iridescent Dispater -- and Fhazil -- are both concerned about.

Freyja draws a slow breath, trying to be a calm center of Light for Fhazil to orient on, despite confusion. Fhazil slowly manages to center, and his eyes blink open a little. "Oh..." he says quietly, as if in understanding.

Freyja mentally reviews... she knows somewhat of those tribunals. Each time the Destroyer's wielder was sent to take care of someone or something that needed destroying, a tribunal of thirteen Jedi (different ones each time) would have to study the case before saying 'Yes, this must be done. Go to your work, dispater, and may the universe be brighter for what you must do.'

That was when dispaters were still used, of course. They were phased out several thousand years ago... times change and the galaxy moved on. Nowadays it's recognized all Jedi do what's necessary. Up until the arrival of the Sith, there hadn't been any threats which might overpower a typical Jedi master, or require a Dispater. There never were that many of them, anyway.

She doesn't remember the garden from any of the manses she'd visited as a child. Considering its age, it might not even exist any more. She quietly shares the knowledge she has with Fhazil, then murmurs softly, "Better?"

Fhazil nods slowly; meditating that deeply is clearly something he's slowly getting used to doing. "I... I think so, yes. Was that... them? I mean, the one who first wielded Kourakani?"

Freyja nods silently, leaning to put her arms around Fhazil and rest her cheek against his. It feels like the right thing to do, just as the Camaasi did for the haunted Human Dispater. Fhazil closes his eyes, gently putting his arms around her as well, taking slow breaths. "You're right," he says quietly. "I don't have to be a wall-breaker. Besides the fact that he wasn't... I'm... who I am. Korotatinea... it's starting to.. I guess you could say 'understand.'

Freyja smiles calmly, "I don't know how your lightsaber communicates with you... but understanding is a good basis to start with, hai."

"It's... starting to, more and more. Gods, I didn't realize I was so close to just being rejected by it."

Freyja says, "And you're right -- it is a different time and place now. Who knows? Perhaps, because times are both more and less dark now, Kourakani and I shall have to learn a bit more seriousness." With quiet determination she says, "Neh. You are the right person to be the Darkmantle and to wield Korotatinea, Fhazil -- do not doubt that. The Force guided me in that choice, through Master Roakkana and Zero, past my own self doubt." She squeezes him gently close, then grins softly, "The horror -- I've just admitted I have doubts too! Don't tell -- my reputation will be simply shot if it gets out!"

Fhazil chuckles softly and straightens, taking Freyja's hands. "I won't tell anyone," he says, grinning. "Your secret's safe with me."

Freyja beams at Fhazil, inordinately pleased to see him smiling again, "Such a relief!" Her gaze gets faintly mischievous as she adds, "But wait -- perhaps I should test your resolve!" She grins, bouncing lightly to her feet, "Want to continue sparring?" He nods, grinning. And this time, to Freyja's senses, there is more of a growing accord between wielder and saber as the lightsabers thrum and clash against each other.

Zhar.

The end of the journey... or just the beginning?

This deep in Hutt space, this far from the Core, the star-scape is almost disturbingly empty and dark, with not nearly as many stars as either Freyja, Zero, or Fhazil grew up with above them.

The system is crowded, astronomically speaking. Four asteroid belts and ten planets -- three of them gas giants -- with the namesake of the system, the gas giant Zhar itself, occupying the fifth orbit out. It is a great huge ball of red gas, with beacons from tibanna and hydrogen mining outposts dotting it. There are thirty moons in the Zhar subsystem, with a prominent beacon on the second one, marking it as the local 'capitol.'

Shortly after the Platinum Eclipse drops from hyperspace, a fairly well armed ship of distinctly odd build -- clearly a native Hutt design -- sweeps in, giving a standard challenge: request for identification, purpose of visit, the usual. Freyja identifies the ship correctly and politely, giving the standard responses and sticking to their story -- they're researchers.

The enforcer ship seems unutterably bored, and with very little further ado they clear the Eclipse for landing at whichever outpost they'd like, with a fairly broad hint that the second moon of the planet Zhar has good deals -- that is, the best kickbacks for the enforcers who direct business in that direction. There is nothing implied that they have to go there, however.

Freyja thanks the enforcer ship politely before closing the connection. Then she turns to the others, "Well... we're supposed to head for the third moon, according to Inspector Shang."

Fhazil runs through the ship's sensors. "Well.. there's just a mining outpost there, it looks like. Nothing else. Landing there is probably the way to go, I imagine."

Zero says, "Certainly seems like the best cover around here."

Freyja nods quietly, pulling out her datapad and double-checking her information, "Zero has the sword; I have the coded note of introduction from Inspector Shang. We want to find... a mining outpost in the inner asteroid belt. The outpost manager will have the information we need. We tell him we're from the Golden Star Mining Consortium out of Bzhant. He'll know who we are, confirm our credentials, and then tell us how to reach the Silver Path at Zhar."

The trip to the mining outpost takes a few hours, but there is no incident. The 'inner asteroid belt' of Zhar is surprising. It's actually within the Zhar subsystem -- not unlike, but incredibly denser than, a typical ring system. All four of the other belts occupy the outer planetary orbits. It is literally the 'innermost' asteroid belt -- Shang's apparently conflicting instructions seem like a carefully worded layer of defense.

They are cleared for landing by the station manager with little muss or fuss, though he admits the only amenities they can give are plain ship-food and fuel. The outpost is simple and plain, set on the surface of the planet, with a wide and generous, if twisty, hangar bay where even medium-sized ships can land. There appear to be a great many ships here, some of which seem dilapidated. A note on the star chart indicates the outpost also houses the local scrapyard and ship-parts dealer, as well as the "ship pawn" dealer.

Freyja quietly pins her Padawan's braid up like usual so it looks like an interesting hair piece, tucks her distinctively marked armored gloves away, and pulls the hood of her long-coat up. "Is it cold out there?"

Zero says, "Usually. Not a lot of comforts on a mining asteroid."

Freyja nods, buttoning up the coat, "All right. We ready?" She glances at her friends to be sure everyone's armed and ready before they disembark, and quietly notes to her friends that she thinks the station manager sounded a tad bit suspicious. She's got the coded note of introduction tucked very securely into her long-coat.

Zero pulls on his long overcoat, checks the fingerless lining-gloves, and tucks the sword in his sash at his side. It's ready enough to show if he holds open his coat a bit, not quite far back enough to give the appearance of going for a weapon if he does. Freyja adds a little puzzledly that some of the ships look a bit like what the ships involved on the raid in Ambria were described as... except they're a bit too dilapidated, she thinks? She's not really sure.

Zero says, "Actually, it looks like someone's making a concerted effort to look tatty."

Fhazil nods quietly, and says dryly, "He's probably wondering why we chose his little establishment to land at, instead of the stately pleasure-domes and all-you-can-eat buffets at the second moon." He arches an eyebrow to Freyja -- then, at Zero's comment, his other eyebrow goes up. "They might very well be those ships, then. Wonder what that means?"

Zero says, "Those space frames only came into manufacture a few years ago. They're too new to be that ugly; even pirates take better care of their equipment."

Freyja raises an extremely interested eyebrow, studying the screen, "Really now. Give me a moment, please?" She quietly scans -- very cautiously -- to see if she can 'feel' that distinctive glare of Light that denotes Valsha. A moment later she shakes her head, opening her eyes, "Ah, well. Was wondering if I could 'feel' Valsha." She smiles, "Let's go, shall we? We've got places to be, things to learn... and people to meet."

Outside the ship the station manager himself -- odd that he took an interest -- is talking with someone who is apparently his assistant. Both are of different species, but neither of a species either Freyja or Zero recognizes, although the assistant is the same canid-insectile species as one of Thorn's guards was. The manager -- a burly, almost ursine creature who looks to be one part droid with the number of bionic prosthetics on him -- waddles over to the group. "Welcome to Last Rock Station," he says wryly in Huttee. "What brings you to this forlorn little establishment?"

Freyja automatically links up mentally with her friends for translation purposes, replying politely, "We're doing research, Station Manager. I hight Freyja Makkaisdottir. I wonder if we might speak with you in private, so we can ask you about certain types of stellar conditions we're researching?"

The manager studies the group for a second, then spreads his hands, his sapphire-blue bionic eye glowing faintly. "Surely, gentles. I'm Yulo Hrrun. My office is right over here. " He starts to lead the group over to what look like ramshackle offices that overlook the entire bay.

Freyja can tell the station manager is still suspicious. Unsurprising, really. Still, there's no sense of a trap or ambush. Also, Freyja's prepared ahead of time -- once they're all settled in the little office, she pulls out a sheaf of notes she's cribbed together on possible theoretical Outer Rim conditions, calmly explaining, "These will show you what sorts of things we're looking for, Station Manager Hrrrun. See?" The third piece of paper in the pile is Inspector Shang's note. "Have you any suggestions for us on where we might find any of these situations?"

The manager laughs quietly as he sits at the large, cluttered, unkempt desk. "Well, " he says, reading through them, "I'm not an astrophysicist or cartographer, Freyja Makkaisdottir, so I don't know what help-" he reaches the third paper and stops talking. He takes a while to read through the note, much longer than a single read would take. He glances up at the group, his bionic eye making a click-whirrr sound as it focuses on them. "Karlitta Shang, hey?" he says in heavily accented Aurabesh. "Well. This don't seem t'be about any Outer Rim conditions." He holds up the paper. "Are you sure it's havin' to do with what you're looking for?"

Freyja smiles, "It's what we're here for, Station Manager." She adds dryly, "We were told discretion was the better part of valor in this case."

He nods, then goes back to reading the paper. His eye makes a few more clicks and whirring noises. Then he stands, setting the other papers down. He goes to the window, looking out at the bay outside, his back to the group as he taps the paper thoughtfully in his hands. "You were told aright," he says quietly. He is silent for a few moments more. "Tell me," he says calculatingly, almost casually, "-what happened to Karlitta Shang?"

Zero straightens a little and opens his long coat, slowly so as not to appear to be going for a weapon, drawing out the sword. He places it on the desk. "Killed herself, to protect a secret. I thought I should bring this back to its proper place. Since we were coming this way."

Hrrun lifts up his head a little as he hears the sound of the sword being put on the desk, then seems to deflate at Zero's words. "Was worried about that. Damn-fool lass... I knew that would happen, seein' the bright in her eyes, seein' how she wanted to change the universe when she left..."

He turns to look at the group again, setting the paper down atop the shard-sword; his one real eye looks a bit misty. "Others than me will take care of that; take both with you. Move your ship to berth eighty-nine. My people will take care of it. Then go to the cantina called the Morgue, here at this outpost. Ask for Liam. He'll take you the last few steps." He adds a little sadly, a little wryly, "Or rather, the first few steps... on the Path."

Zero slides the sword into his sash again. "All right. Thank you, sir." Freyja rises and gives a slight, polite bow... then follows her friends out. She has no words for how much she grieved for the senseless loss of the Inspector.

Moving the ship is no trouble at all. Hrrun's people seem familiar with some sort of esoteric drill that putting the Eclipse in that corner of the bay entails. Almost as soon as the group disembarks, they are setting tarpaulins over the ship, readying sandblasters and various implements to make the hull look at least fifty years older. Zero smiles ruefully over his shoulder. "I should say thank you," he murmurs, "It would have cost a fortune to get that done back home..." Freyja blinks, watching with fascinated curiosity.

Finding the Morgue is also not a problem. The interior of the outpost seems like a warren -- a maze of twisty passages, none alike. Down one corridor and past various shops and residences there is the cantina, which seems to cater to the broadest spectrum of the outpost's three or four hundred regular inhabitants. A quick check with the bartender sees the Nikto lady point to a booth near one corner of the cantina where a young, bookish-looking Human is sitting comfortably, nursing some sort of drink and reading from a datapad. He looks up as the group approaches. "Yes yes yes, what is it?" he asks, sounding a little irritable. "If it's antiques you're looking for you'll have to find me at my shop on the morrow. If you're looking to pawn something then please try to make it fast, I'm an extremely busy man. Busy busy busy!"

Zero decides to let Freyja do the talking. Something about this person has his teeth on edge already. Freyja pushes back her hood and says amusedly, "We're looking for Liam. Is that yourself?"

The Human blinks a bit, then puts on a pair of spectacles. "Oh!" he says, peering up at Freyja. "My my my... why, yes, lovely lady, indeed I am. Liam Xyssan at your service," he says, standing and bowing. "Pawnbroker only by necessity; dealer in fine antiquities throughout this sector. Well, this system, at any rate. I have a simply gorgeous choker of Kaminoan rain-opals in a gold-chinnon alloy setting which would look utterly flattering upon you, if I may say so. Truly truly truly."

Freyja smiles faintly -- opals are, oddly enough, her favorite gem for reasons that aren't currently important -- but simply adds quietly, "Station Manager Hrrun said to ask for you... that you could take us the first few steps on the Path." She wonders thoughtfully what exactly the Silver Path could want with Valsha. She's a little worried about that... she hopes the Force knows what it's doing there, and that it really is the Force that's brought the poor girl here.

The man's expression doesn't change much, but it does become a little less forced. "Did he, now? Well well well. Truly the silvery pearl within the rocky oyster, then." He reaches down and casually drains his glass. "As you can tell," he says quietly, "I'm the local fence. Me going off with newcomers isn't given more than a glance. No no no. Come with me, please. We've a walk ahead of us."

Freyja chuckles quietly -- she's never been referred to as a pearl before! Well... if that's what he meant. She shouldn't assume. She just nods quietly and follows. Zero just follows. He's decided that he is completely unable to follow this guy's metaphor.

Liam leads the group through the streets -- if they could be called that -- to a shady-looking two-story storefront. The sign declares it to be Liam Xyssan's Antiques and Pawn Shop, in three languages including Huttee and Aurabesh, with the traditional Corellian three golden bails set atop the sign -- except at closer look the bails are dull chrome, not gold. "Come in, come in, come in," he says, opening the store. As soon as he cracks the door, a horrific cacophony of yipping howls erupts from inside. "Down, Kugo, Drang!" Liam shouts, slipping inside the dark store and holding the door open for the group.

Freyja brightens, slipping in with interest to see what sort of animal is inside. She's been missing pets a lot recently. Zero follows along. I just realized we must still smell like Vakkal.

Freyja is literally eye-to-eye with a creature that looks like an eight-legged frehkee or dakang, if not for the flat face with incredibly long whiskers, which twitch and curl a little. Its russet-black fur seems to drink in the light, and its dark blue, intelligent eyes glitter in reflected light. It sniffs her nose a little, giving a low sound before drawing back, not letting its eyes leave hers. That's when Freyja realizes it's hanging from the ceiling, gripping a set of railings there, and has its head neatly twisted around right side-up. Another of the beasts skitters a bit on the floor. Its head comes to Freyja's elbow, except when it ducks its head a little to lightly poke each person in the crotch, making soft yerpping sounds.

Freyja grins, her face lighting up as she crouches to be at eye level with the creature on the floor. She holds out a hand to be sniffed, her voice quiet, calm, and interested, "Well, hello there, big guy -- how're you? Need an ear rub?"

Over the link comes Vakkal's amused, Believe me, smelling like me would be music to your noses. Or at least something to that effect. Freyja laughs softly, glancing over her shoulder at Vakkal, then turning back to happily regard the big octoped in front of her. Zero realizes with some consternation that he can't tell if that's a pun or not.

Liam says pleasantly, "Don't mind the gyrrons. They're tame. Well, more or less, they don't eat anyone all that often, but they're great guard creatures."

The gyrron Freyja addresses tilts its head to the side, and nudges her hand a little. The whiskers tickle her hand as they brush over her palm, feeling like nothing less than a cluster of long, thick hairs. It yawns -- startlingly, the lower half of its face seems to split apart, revealing a most impressive set of knife-like teeth -- before it closes its mouth again and rubs its head against Freyja's hand. She murmurs soft, contented comments to the gyrron, rubbing its ears. It's inordinately nice, to her, to be around animals again. Until Liam leads them from the room, she's quite happy to sit and make friends.

Liam watches Freyja's interaction with Drang with a grin. "He certainly likes you," he says. He lets Freyja get to know the gyrron -- the other is keeping its distance, warily watching Vakkal and Fhazil -- before saying, "They can sense the Force-awakened a little. A bit, a bit, a bit. Not sure if they were bred that way or if gyrrons just happened to develop that trait." He glances up at the other gyrron. "Kugo doesn't seem to be too fond of your two friends, but he really only does that with Darksiders. And since you've all behaved, he's not going to do anything." He straightens. "Well! Let me bring you down the Path, what what what?"

Freyja blinks, then grins cheerfully at Vakkal and Fhazil. Over the link she mischievously murmurs, Well, at least we know it's not how you smell, eh? She giggles, then rises to follow Liam... although she's not above a friendly pat on her thigh to encourage the gyrrons to come along too.

Liam moves to one of the back rooms, where piles of junk have been carefully placed. Drang trots alongside Freyja (perhaps thankfully not panting), its eight legs making a curious spider-like cadence upon the floor. Freyja lets her fingers gently scritch Drang's rough-furred shoulders pleasantly as she walks next to the big creature. It's incredibly nice feeling, she thinks. Kugo follows along behind, remaining up among the ceiling as if herding Vakkal and Fhazil, not at all unaware he's seriously disturbing the two Sith.

Liam does something with a cabinet set into the wall. "But a moment, moment, moment," he says cheerfully. "Security, you know." He seems to be carefully positioning his body so it's not at all clear immediately what he's doing.

Zero finds himself tensing reflexively, palpably to the others; to come this far to be set up... Freyja glances over her shoulder at the gyrron on the rafters, then at the two somewhat tense Sith. To Kugo she smiles and murmurs through the Force, They are friendly, you know.

Kugo blinks slowly to Freyja, then at the Sith. It crawls slowly along the ceiling, rotating its head to look at first Vakkal, then Fhazil, right side-up. The two Sith hold very, very still, not entirely comfortable with the scary-looking creature. Kugo sniffs at Fhazil, then sniffs at Vakkal... then again at Vakkal. It gives a bit of a yip, then curls up against the roof in what must be a comfortable position for it, now only lazily watching the group. It yawns -- that in and of itself is enough to make someone run -- and lazily starts poking along the ceiling, perhaps looking for some kind of vermin to gnosh on. Freyja grins at the gyrrons, then at her two Sith friends... then turns to watch Liam curiously.

After a minute or so of fiddling with the cabinet, it sinks into the wall about half a meter, then with a sharp whoosh it rapidly slides upward-

-revealing two figures standing beyond, wearing slightly dusty, dark gray robes.

Liam brushes his hands off, grinning and not at all surprised at sight of the two figures. They are motionless for a bit before one draws back her hood sharply. She is a Bothan, with deep-set orange eyes, and her gaze goes from one person to the next. She takes a slow step forward. "How did you find us?" she says in a voice that's orders of magnitude more gentle than seems possible from her.

Freyja nods politely and replies, "We followed directions from Inspector Karlitta Shang."

The Bothan holds out her hand. "May I see the letter, please?" Her movements are slow and utterly unhurried.

Freyja adds thoughtfully, "From your... reaction, I'd guess you're with the group with Valsha?" She hands over the note.

The Bothan looks quickly to Freyja, blinking, before she turns to the note. "I am not involved in such things," she says simply, drawing out a datapad and comparing something on the pad with the letter from Shang.

Freyja smiles. That answers her question. She waits quietly, still happily scritching Drang's ears. Zero says, "There's something else."

After a minute the datapad disappears, and the Bothan tucks the note away as well. She looks to Zero. "Yes. Hrrun said you had Karlitta's shard-sword." Meanwhile, Drang rubs his head against Freyja's hip. Freyja raises an eyebrow at the Bothan keeping the note, but says nothing. She's quite happy right now, just enjoying the presence of the two gyrrons.

Zero takes the shard-blade from his sash again and turns it deftly in one hand, holding it out to the Bothan grip-first. "I think this belongs to you."

The Bothan seems to sigh softly, accepting the blade. She holds it up, studying it. "It is hers," she says in a sad tone. Then with more strength she continues: "Come; the Presbyter will see you." Zero stands quietly and follows. Freyja also follows silently... although once again she gently pats her thigh, encouraging Drang to follow if he'd like. She's guessing Liam won't let him... but she can hope.

Liam bows to Freyja. "If all goes well well well," he says, "do come out and say 'hi' now and then. I'm sure Kugo and Drang would like the company." Drang, for his part, stays at the edge of the doorway like a good guard-beast, giving a bit of a cheerful yip.

Freyja smiles at Liam, "Thank you," and pats Drang, Later, perhaps? before following the others. The gyrron gives a cheerful, affirmative yip! before scrambling up the wall and onto the ceiling, joining his friend to look for tasty vermin.

The Bothan and the other robed figure lead the group through a maze of rough-hewn passages, following either memory or some signs known and seen by only them. Eventually they come to a plain door which whooshes aside as they approach. Almost immediately from within they hear voices: "--I know you're the presbyter. I do not challenge that! You've been good to us, but my people-"

"Are safe. As safe as any of us. I will not let anything happen to them. But if nothing else we must find out what happened to Shang."

"And what if they're Watchers? Or worse, Templars?"

"They are four Force-awakened. If they were Templars, there would likely be at least one if not six or eleven more. And if Watchers, then we will deal with them as need be. We cannot turn away everyone. Yours are not the only ones seeking sanctuary."

"I know. I apologize, Presbyter. I was out of line. My concern is for the people who have trusted their life to me."

The room is about ten by twenty meters square, and very high; the ceiling seems lost to shadow. Light comes from panels set in the pillars that reach upward to the vaulted roof, and form a pool of light at the far end of the room. Emblazoned there is a crosshatched Bendu wheel, set into the smooth stone of the wall. Before it stand the people who were speaking. One is a Kel Dor in gray robes with a silver medallion; the other a Human in russet cape and hood over tan-and-brown leggings and tunic.

Freyja looks around... then smiles at sight of the female Human. "Paladin Diana Verdigris Redcloak, I presume? Jedi Diath sends his fond greetings. Well... would, if he knew we'd be meeting, I suspect. If it is you, how's Valsha?" She adds amusedly, "Neh, we're neither Watchers nor Templars."

The Human's head snaps around sharply at the address. "Who...?" She makes a sound of frustration, then pulls her hood back quickly, looking at Freyja carefully. The woman is somewhat stocky, with dark skin and black hair, and startling, silver-flecked brown eyes that catch the light well. "Who are you that you know me?" she asks. Her voice carries suspicion, concern, and a little nervousness. Then she frowns, and Freyja feels the faintest of touches in the Force. "It was you, wasn't it?" she says slowly. "Months ago, it was you who was farseeing..."

Freyja nods amusedly again, "Hai. And it was you who stole Valsha from a Jedi ship." She folds her arms and repeats firmly, "How is Valsha? I'd like to speak with her... and see she's all right."

The woman bristles. "We did not 'steal' her. She'd be no more safe on Ossus than she would at the Temple." She folds her arms as well. "She is doing very well. She is safe and sound. Who are you?"

Freyja adds politely to the Kel Dor, with a bow, "Please forgive me. Valsha's well-being has been a concern for a while now to us. I hight Freyja Rigg, Padawan to Jedi Master Roakkana of Kashyyk, and this is my brother Padawan Zero Satau." She gestures, "This is Vakkal, my huskarl, and Fhazil Taas of Ziost. We are here in the hopes of forming a triat, under the training of the Silver Path." Then she gives Fhazil a sheepish look, adding to the Kel Dor, "Excuse me, Journeyman Fhazil Taas. I am a bit unfamiliar with Sith titles."

Zero bows slightly, hands open. Freyja just grins at the bristling Human woman. The very fact the woman is bristling shows she feels defensive about stealing Valsha. Freyja then turns attentively back to the Presbyter.

The Kel Dor looks startled. "Jedi... Graysider... and Sith," the presbyter murmurs. "Of course..." Diana's brows shoot up under her bangs, and just seem to go higher with each introduction. Then she puts her face in her palm. "Of course," she mutters, "the Jedi of Marnaas. Yes, of course you would be concerned." She bows, then, hands together. "I thank you for protecting my niece during that time, Padawan Rigg, Padawan Satau, and seeing her safely off of that world." She straightens, casting a curious and wary look to Fhazil when he is introduced as a Sith.

Freyja nods politely to Diana, adding courteously, "Perhaps we could speak further later, if you are interested?" Then she smiles at the Kel Dor hopefully, "Um... is that a hai, then, in regards to training us?"

The Kel Dor bows to the group. "The Silver Path welcomes you to our refuge. I am Furl Iyonn, the presbyter of the Silver Path. It... may be a hai. We would wish to know your reasons for asking this of us, and also assure ourselves you were not followed here. As you surely know, the Jedi Order, and in particular the Templars, would wish to see our order disbanded."

Zero silently notes, mostly to himself, The Republic's quality of troubleshooters has gone distinctly downhill lately. Of course, they don't know that yet.

The Kel Dor gestures. "Come; I will have some refreshments brought. I was told you had a letter from Karlitta Shang, and her shard-sword?"

Zero nods. "The Bothan that ushered us in has her blade. I gave it to her."

Freyja says, "She has the note also." She follows the Kel Dor, quietly considering her answer to the questions posed.

The Bothan nods and steps forward with the blade and the note as the Kel Dor walks towards a circular alcove with seats ringing its interior. The Kel Dor sits, studying the note. "Mmm... yes, it is indeed from Shang. That, at least, is a plus for you." The Kel Dor looks up. "As they say, the beginning is the best place to start. Please, tell of your journey, from when you learned of the triats and decided to come to us about them."

Freyja seats herself and says carefully, "To the best of our knowledge we were not followed. As far as our reasons for being here, well..." She looks thoughtfully at her friends, then back at the presbyter, "I cannot speak for my companions -- they will tell you their personal reasons themselves. But for myself..."

She falls silent a moment, ordering her thoughts, then says slowly, "I... have a Master who has always encouraged me to explore and question... to grow from learning. I... met Sith on Marnaas. They weren't what I expected at all. They had a sense of honor... they kept their word. In fact, I found I had more in common with them than I did with the zealots -- of either side. I began to question -- were there truly only two sides to this question of interpretation of the Force? What happened to all the ancient orders that chose to interpret the Force differently than just Light or Dark?"

Iyonn nods gently. "Yes, Master Roakkana is known for being open-minded."

Freyja smiles a bit ruefully, "By the time Inspector Shang told me of the triats, I'd already begun to wonder if it was really healthy, for individuals or for the Force, to insist on only two opposing views of the Force." She shrugs one shoulder gracefully, "It seems the Force agrees with my concerns... as we are here." She neatly tucks her legs under her, sitting comfortably cross-legged and watching with interest as to how people react to their presence.

Zero sighs quietly. "I'd hoped Shang would have come with us." Freyja nods quietly, unsmiling, at Zero's comment.

"Indeed you are. And though some would have concerns, I find myself trusting -- if not merely hoping to trust -- you." The presbyter nods softly, looking to Zero. "I am in agreement. That she chose to surrender her life to protect the secret of this place is... a great honor, and yet sad. Tell me, how did she pass unto the Force? You have her shard-blade; surely it was not in battle?"

Freyja smiles, encouraged at the Presbyter's words. She also looks at Zero... although she does cast her gaze out a bit to see if Paladin Diana and the other two individuals are still within earshot. Diana is there as well, though subdued, as are the two Silver Path adepts. None of them say anything to interrupt.

Zero lowers his eyes a bit. "She was injured by the initial Sith attack. She was in the care of the monastery on Marnaas... she killed herself rather than risk interrogation by a Templar." He adds quietly, "I wasn't able to get to her in time. We didn't know the attack was coming."

Freyja softly murmurs, "Master Roakkana protected her from him as long as he could."

Iyonn leans back a little in her seat. It is impossible to tell what the presbyter's expression is. "I... see. I am, of course, proud of her courage... but I am saddened by the loss. I would rather she had lived. It is the way of things to eventually die, but her death... I wish there had been another way." Those masked, silver eyes turn to the group again, flicking from Freyja to Zero to Fhazil. "What do you hope to gain from forming a triat?"

Freyja tilts her head thoughtfully, then says firmly, "Truth is always better than lies... and there are whole dogmas of lies and propaganda floating around right now, for both Dark- and Light-siders. I want to find out the Truth... and if necessary, I want to help the Force heal itself." She adds quietly, "I do not believe in coincidence any more. It is my belief the Force wishes us to do this. I hope to fulfill the needs of the Force."

The Kel Dor nods slowly. Then her steady gaze moves to Zero and Fhazil.

Fhazil blinks at the attention on him, then takes in a breath. "I... agree with Freyja," he says quietly. "Just from what I've seen in my time with these two, and seeing the changes in my Brother... I think there's a lot that we're, that the Sith, are missing out on in keeping up this war. It's tearing everything apart, more than even a Lord of War would like. If we can... make things better, somehow... I'm for it. Just tell us what we need to do."

Zero folds his arms. "I am not able to serve the Light fully. I was and am a killer. Fighting is what I am best at... but I have always fought for what I believed in. I can't serve the Dark. I can't destroy for destruction's sake. I refuse to kill for no reason. There has to be another way." He adds softly, "My friends need protection in this enterprise. No one loves a convert. Or a traitor. I know; I am both. I betrayed a corrupt bureaucrat in the same heartbeat I chose to commit to the Force. I have to protect them. No one else will."

Freyja smiles with quiet, happy warmth at her friends. Sometimes she doubts... sometimes she's sure. Now is a time of surety for her. With friends like these... how could they fail? She leans companionably against Vakkal, sighing a bit. First steps... so far, so good, she hopes.

The Kel Dor nods slowly, then leans back in the seat. "Very well, then," the Presbyter says quietly. "Then let today be the day you take up the mantles. Your training will be done in as close to the old way as we can. You will not be missed for several months, will you?"

Freyja says, "Neh, Presbyter. Master Roakkana is covering for us." She straightens again, internally excited.

Zero says, "As far as the Order and the Brotherhood are concerned, we are all off training for an extended period. I suppose that isn't technically a lie. As far as the Hutts are concerned, we are a research survey team. I suspect, however, they will have forgotten us within two weeks or so. Very little besides good credit is remembered around here. But I suspect you know that already."

Freyja grins at Zero, then looks alertly back at the Kel Dor. Then she oh!s softly, raising a finger, "Presbytr? While I'm sure it's obvious by now that we intend to return after training, Inspector Shang said we should specifically inform you of this, so you had as much time as possible to prepare for moving?"

Iyonn nods then, standing. "Indeed. Which is why we have hidden here for thousands of years. Very well. Adept Keil'sha will show you to rooms. You are not the only ones who are seeking sanctuary and refuge here; Paladin Diana's people are but some. Introductions shall be made in time." The Kel Dor pauses, then says with emotion, "Yes; even though it will mean an end to our time here when you leave, still I am proud to be Presbyter now. You will be the first triat in centuries. And perhaps... you will succeed."

Freyja brightens, her eyes alight with excitement. Her voice is soft, though, as she rises and politely salutes the Kel Dor, "Thank you, Presbytr Iyonn," then turns to follow the adept. Zero bows politely before departing.

The adept leads the group to a suite of rooms not entirely unlike those at the hostel on Commenor -- except, of course, for having stone walls. They are warm, however, well lit and comfortable. The adept gives the rundown of where the fresher is, and encourages the group to explore. She will find them on the morrow -- it is 'evening' at the outpost -- where the presbyter will discuss and begin their training.

Freyja beams, restraining her excitement with difficulty as she thanks the adept. Once the adept has left, she gleefully whoops and gives huge hugs to each of her friends, "We're here! They'll train us! We're on our way!" Fhazil erp!s a bit with Freyja's exuberance, but does not turn down the chance to return the embrace. Freyja giggles, politely not strangling her friends with enthusiasm.

Zero smiles a little. "Well. Maybe now I can finally relax."

As Zero says that, outside the doorway comes a cheerful voice, "So... here I am thinking, 'What rock did Quiet crawl under, after all?' And then to my surprise it turns out he's crawled under the selfsame rock I'm hiding out under. Imagine how hard my jaw hit the frelling floor..."

Freyja turns to glance over her shoulder from where she's hugging Zero, curiously saying, "Is that... one of your former frien- er, fellow employees, Zero?"

Into the doorway steps an older man, pleasant-faced and with salt-and-pepper hair, but a build that is still youthful and hale. His features are not unlike Sedraki, but carry some Alderaanian undertones to them. As he leans against the doorframe, arms crossed, he waves a salute to the little ex-assassin. "Hoi, Quiet. Uhm... surprise?" It is Argent Ling.

Zero actually turns several shades paler. He stares silently for some moments. Finally he manages to murmur, "A-Argent?" Freyja steps back politely, releasing Zero's neck from her tight hug and watching with avid curiosity.

The man spreads his hands, grinning widely as he straightens. "Sah. Guess people believed that story I'd ate that thermal on Kessel after all."

Zero whispers, "Argent... I thought you were dead." He appears to be struggling with several different emotions all at one time. He exhales explosively, shoulders sagging a bit, "Gods below, Argent... I thought you were gone for good and all. I thought it was my fault." He tries to keep the fact that his throat is tightening out of his voice. "I thought you died on that hell-spawned rock. Is it really you?"

Argent's expression softens. "I know, Quiet. It's really me, and I'm sorry I couldn't tell you. But you were still working for the nerfherder. I couldn't take the chance he'd put you on the grid if he suspected I was still alive and you knew something about it." He shakes his head. "I had to get out while I still had my skin on after Kessel, and setting up an incident there was the best way. Deno's goons thought I'd died when the thermal brought half the cave down."

Zero says, "So Deno was in the picture even then."

Freyja's eyebrows go up -- what is it about Kessel? She'd really like that information later, when everyone's settled more. She smiles, pleased to see it looks like it really is an old friend for Zero, and whispers softly in his mind, Not your fault because he's not dead... so neh more nightmares now, my friend, hai?

Argent nods. "Sah. Yeah, he was. Kalatis was bringing him in for his Hutt contacts. He had me scouting out some deadbeat debtors on Kessel, and I ran into some shady shipping deals he'd made. Deno thought I shouldn't know about it, so they tried..." He pantomimes shooting a blaster, "Pyu-pyu!" He grins wryly. "Instead they got boom-boom. I'm pretty sure I got a couple of Deno's thugs in the blast."

Zero mutters darkly, "That's deadly arrogant, presuming what the Four should and shouldn't be doing..." He sighs heavily and gives Argent a weary smile, "Not that there are Four anymore. We've all gone away... even Uri." He adds to Freyja, I haven't slept all the way through the night in three years. Who knows what I'll look like without dark circles under my eyes.

Freyja listens with avid interest. Deno seems to like large explosions. Pity they're so ineffective in getting rid of his enemies. She grins to herself -- well, not really a pity, considering they were one of the targets! She grins at Zero, politely inquiring, "Introduce us to your friend, Zero?" To Argent she adds, "Are you Force-awakened also?" She grins at Zero, Be good for you, I think!

"Even Uri? Stang! I'm glad for that, at least. Silly kid. Too damn dramatic, and those cigarras'll kill him someday, but he deserved better... hell, Quiet-" He reaches over and ruffles Zero's hair utterly unselfconsciously. "You deserve better. Knew that the first time I saw you and you kicked my butt with that vibro of yours." He grins, looking around. "And you got better, if this is any indication. 'Padawan Satau.' Stang, but that's got a nice ring to it, though I'd never mark you for Jedi material. So come on, make with the introductions!"

Freyja adds cheerfully -- and with dreadfully mischievous timing -- I'd feel guilty asking you to be one of my paramours when you already never get a decent night's sleep! Her cheeks are a bit flushed as she whispers that into Zero's mind, but her eyes are bright with happiness for him.

Zero nods, a little shocked still. "Of course, Freyja, Vakkal, Fhazil, this is... this is Argent Ling." He smiles, "The most dangerous man in the Republic. At the very least the most famous man that never existed. He was in Kalatis' employ before any of us, and the reason I can still walk about to end up in this place after years of working for that miserable worm. He's the very best at what we... did." He turns to Argent, "This is Freyja Makaisdottir, Fhazil Taas, and Vakkal. I've, ah... been keeping some new company since striking out on my own. These three have been responsible for keeping me on the level, Argent." He grins a little. "You know I can't do anything halfway."

Freyja smiles and nods politely to the (former?) assassin, "Pleasure to meet you."

Zero replies facetiously, Now why would I not be getting any sleep then? Freyja blinks at Zero's comment... then giggles in spite of herself, and impulsively sticks her tongue out at him!

Argent laughs and bows. "Quiet -- ni, that's not appropriate now, is it? Zero exaggerates. I only wish I was famous. And it's been my honest pleasure to have worked with Zero, even under Kalatis. And even bigger pleasure to see him free from that life." Argent shakes his head to Freyja's question. "Nope, not one little bit," he says cheerfully. "My life's been complicated enough as it is!" He inclines his head. "Pleasure to meet you, Padawan Makkaisdottir, Fhazil Taas, Vakkal. Thank you for showing Zero the straight 'n' narrow, and keeping him there!" he adds, with a grin.

Zero adds, with the sense of relief that only comes after years on years of tension, "Argent... you know what this means?"

Freyja blinks... then laughs again, at the image of them keeping Zero on the straight and narrow! She grins... then tilts her head thoughtfully at her friends, Here... maybe we better stick to the truth, and tell them my true name? She smiles at the older Human, "Actually, er... it's just Padawan Freyja."

Argent tilts his head to the side, grinning to Zero. "That Kalatis is now neck-deep in bantha fodder?" Then he grins to Freyja. "Oh, sorry about that. Padawan Freyja it is." Freyja nods politely, then steps back again, half-obscuring herself behind the others. She has a lot to think about.

Zero smiles, "He doesn't know the half of it. It's over. And we're alive. We're here... and Phelan, gods above bless his tiny little mind, is off trying to get married, and Uri's gone off to... to... to be Uri somewhere in the Outer Rim. It's not... completely over, I guess... someone's still got to stop him, for the Republic's sake, but he's not going to break any more lives. And he's never going to own ours again."

Argent nods, clapping Zero on the shoulder. "That's exactly how it is, Zero," he says grinning. "We don't belong to him anymore, and maybe more importantly he can't use us to make other peoples' lives miserable. We did some good, yeah... but a lot of it was just lining his pockets with creds." He grimaces a bit. "Or whatever they paid him in... but," he says louder and more cheerfully, "that's for later. I've got to get going, one of the other 'refugees' here actually hired me on as his bodyguard, if you can believe it. Personally, this Caul character needs a bodyguard like Kalatis needs a bankruptcy and poverty loan -- 'specially here -- but I'm not going to complain so long as he doesn't think I'm his cat's-paw now... and he doesn't."

Zero smiles. "We'll be here, Argent. We can catch up later. And... who knows, maybe when we're all done here, we'll pay Uri and Phelan a little visit... and we'll all have a little reunion with Kalatis -- and our 'replacement', Deno."

Argent smirks a bit. "I'm not going anywhere anytime soon." He inclines his head to Freyja. "Padawan Freyja, it was good meeting you... Fhazil Taas, Vakkal..." And with that, Argent saunters out -- though Zero might see the ghost of a limp there that was never there before. Maybe the escape from Kessel was a bit closer than Argent let on.

Freyja peeks curiously out past Fhazil's shoulder, watching the man leave... then looks thoughtfully at Zero. It's nice to see him so lit-up and relaxed. Zero murmurs as Argent leaves, "Gods above, below and on the ground. I guess I really can relax now."

Freyja murmurs curiously, "Wonder why anyone would feel they need a bodyguard here?" She ponders a moment, then adds thoughtfully, "Maybe he's just being nice to Argent?"

Zero smiles ruefully. "Some people are just paranoid right down in their blood. It's all right, though. With Argent protecting him, Caul hasn't much to fear from anyone short of Naga Sadow."

Freyja smiles interestedly at Zero, "It's nice to see you relaxing."

Zero sighs a little and nods. "I... never expected to see him again. Hearing that he was gone was like losing a brother. I think maybe tonight I'll finally sleep soundly for the first time in a long time."

Freyja looks around at the room thoughtfully, then smiles, "These are nice." She looks back at the others, adding happily, "Shall we explore some now?" She grins at Zero, saying simply, "Good."

Zero adds, just to Freyja; And maybe this time I'll join you.

Freyja blinks, turning from her curious regard of the hallway outside the door to study Zero in startlement. Then a slow, quiet smile crosses her face. I'd like that. Come snuggle with us... and when you're sure you're comfortable... She grins, her face flushing a slightly warmer gold and her eyes bright -- then she hastily looks back outside, "Uhm... left or right first?"

The first foray of exploration yields the lay of the refuge. There is the front hall, which the group has seen already, while beyond the dormitories there are a great many little and medium sized rooms scattered here and there in the complex. Most appear to be storage rooms or utility rooms, while others seem to be meditation rooms or classes. A few of the larger rooms are the commissary and a communal hall, as well as a couple of gymnasiums.

In one a number of Silver Path adepts are conducting breathing exercises. In another, even before the group arrives, they hear the thrum and purring of lightsabers. Inside this one are two dozen members of a variety of Republic species, most all in some variation of traditional Jedi dress. Some seem to wear an item of gray clothing, while others eschew any such display. Diana's cloak is distinctive, however, as she watches what looks to be the company's sparring.

Freyja steps quietly to one side into the room, so she's not blocking the doorway or in the way, and watches in fascination. She's searching visually for Valsha. She grins quietly to herself, realizing she accidentally stands out quite a bit in her brilliant blue and scarlet long-coat.

They are certainly Jedi. Their fighting styles, their 'view' in the Force, is clearly familiar to Freyja. But there are subtleties. The group feels alive emotionally to her. There's a strong sense of camaraderie, similar to that of the Sedrak company but also more energetic. At the same time while the sparring is somewhat more aggressive than would be normal for Jedi, it is no less 'safe,' as far as sparring goes. Yet there is an odd calmness about the group -- they seem more comfortable and at ease with everything around them.

The Jedi seem slightly odd in the Force -- well, not odd so much as simply there. Their auras seem not entirely unlike Zero's, and yet have a quality that can only be explained by a koan: a stone that does not disturb the still water.

Freyja settles silently cross-legged near her friends, still watching absorbedly... although her 'gaze' now extends into the Force as well. She whispers her tentative observations to her friends, then adds, Do you see it too, or is it just me?

Zero nods softly. It's the same with me. Freyja frowns, trying to comprehend that difference, and examining the auras of herself and her friends as well, for comparison. Is she the only 'straight' Lightsider present? She discovers, surprisingly, that of the Jedi that she can see around the sparring circle -- the 'squall' as Magnussen Ridomr called it -- she is pretty much the only 'pure' Lightsider, but for one other: a young Duros female who sits on the other side of the circle.

It isn't long before Diana glances over, and blinks a little to Freyja, nodding politely in greeting. The two sparring Gray Jedi -- a Trandoshan and a Duros -- pause briefly in their sparring, catching their breath.

Freyja smiles and nods politely to the Paladin -- is she even a Paladin still? What are they training so assiduously for? Not war, Freyja hopes... she wonders for a flicker of a moment why Diana blinked. What startled her? She extends her 'gaze' with care and courtesy, so as to disturb none. Where's Valsha? It's beginning to worry her a bit. She curiously adds to her companions, I only see one other 'straight' Lightsider... no Darksiders at all. Fascinating... all grays, and no Valsha yet either. Anybody see anything I'm missing?

There is a shout of "Padawan Freyja!" and suddenly a black-haired torpedo comes barreling out of nowhere and collides with Freyja, bowling her over. "I knew you'd come someday!"

Freyja blinks -- then laughs delightedly, rolling back up (with some effort!) to her previous seated position to hug her smaller friend, "Valsha! Safe and sound, even -- oh, it's wonderful to see you again! How are you?!" Zero smiles a little. He knew she was in good hands when he spotted the Paladin here... after all, he reasons with a little pride, these are his people, in spirit if not in blood. She could be nowhere safer.

The silver-eyed girl smiles widely to Freyja, hugging back energetically while the Grey Jedi all burst out laughing; even Diana cracks a smile. "I'm good, thank you! I'm so sorry I couldn't tell you where we were going but it wasn't time yet but I knew you'd come here eventually anyway so I wasn't worried!"

Freyja laughs! -then happily adds, "Colburth is fine -- he's gone walkabout away from the Watchers, and Vakkal and Fhazil are here too, but they're working with us now, so there's nothing to worry about, all right?" She beams, leaning back enough to see Valsha's face, "You look happy now, too... relaxed. Good, I'm so relieved to see that!"

Zero nods. "We were worried, Valsha. Freyja even tried to see through space to find you after we heard you'd been taken from the ship. I'm pleased you're doing well."

Freyja nods amusedly, "Vakkal said I was out for over an hour after the whack your aunt gave me!"

Valsha nods. "I farsaw Colburth. He was on Tatooine, looking for what he'd lost. And I knew Vakkal would be Bright in the end." She smiles up to Zero. "Thank you, Padawan Satau, and I'm glad you're doing well, too! The Three like all of you very much!"

Diana coughs a little as she comes up. "Yes, well, erm, sorry about that," she says. "I... thought you were a Templar, trying to find her."

Freyja looks quite curious, "What did Colburth lose? Who're the Three? The Awatea lightsabers?" She considers for a moment, then looks curiously up at Vakkal, smiling, "You're... Bright?" She giggles at Diana, cheerfully saying, "And I thought Zero had a twitchy trigger finger!" A moment later she adds, "Oh! Bright Sith, maybe?" She considers a moment, then smiles at Vakkal, "I think that's nice."

Zero tilts his head, kneeling down near Valsha. "Did you say the Three?" He reaches back in his sash and draws out Kuwatuara. "How do you know that?"

Valsha sobers a little. "He doesn't know. He just knew he had lost something. And yes, the Three. 'Nga toru Awatea-hoari.'" The weird syllables, which are not of a root language of Aurabesh, come easily to her. "Kourakani, Kawatuara, Korotatinea."

Freyja is happy to sit with Valsha in her lap for as long as the little dynamo wants to. It's such a relief to see her happy and relaxed, compared to the terrified, tense girl she remembers on Marnaas. Vakkal blinks, then quips, "I like to think I've always been somewhat intelligent. Er... Bright Sith? I've... never heard of that before..."

Freyja grins up at Vakkal, "Maybe she made it up just for you, because you're unique?"

Vakkal blinks again. "I rather like the sound of that, actually..."

Diana smiles quietly. "Well. At the time I thought it was the Templars trying to track her down, and... I reacted badly. I apologize, Padawan Freyja, for the discomfort I caused you."

Freyja smiles and shakes her head at Diana, "I'd rather you were over- than under-protective."

Diana smiles. "Thank you," she says to Freyja.

Zero says, "Valsha... how do you know they like us?"

Valsha tilts her head to Zero, blinking her large silver eyes. "They told me so," she says simply.

Fhazil frowns slightly. "Told her so...? I think I'm starting to see why-" He breaks off, biting his lip.

Zero looks at the saber in his hand. "They told you? From so far away?" He smiles a little, remembering whom he's talking to. "I guess they must like you a lot too."

Valsha shakes her head. "No, only when you came here, when they felt it was safe to show themselves. They've been hiding and keeping quiet. But they won't tell me from what."

Zero smiles. "I see. I can't... quite talk to Kuwatuara as well as you can yet. Valsha? If you speak to Kuwatuara again, please tell it thank you for me... it's been a very good companion to me."

Diana glances to Valsha. "She... talks curiously, sometimes," she says. "I admit, that most of the time I don't know what she means. But I listen, as best as I can. And I know that what she says is important."

Freyja grins up at Vakkal -- she's certainly always thought he was unique and special -- then considers Colburth. She murmurs in quiet thoughtfulness, "Maybe... he searches for... his conviction he is still on the correct path? -a path of righteousness within the Force, again?" She whispers softly in Fhazil's mind, Starting to see why what?

Freyja smiles at Diana, saying simply, "We know. It's all right."

Valsha beams to Zero. "You will!" she says. "But I will, even though Kuwatuara knows what you mean."

Zero grins. "Thanks, Valsha."

Fhazil replies mentally, Starting to see why Qatto Verg wanted his ugly mitts on her. Never mind that she's a descendant of the Red General, I've never heard of someone so young having such clarity and strength in the Force!

Freyja nods to Fhazil, a little sadly, Sometimes I feel sorry for her. I don't know how to help her, though... She adds quietly, If she's lucky, she'll get to stay hidden with the Silver Path for the entire conflict. She sighs softly, I'm not holding my breath, though. I suspect too many people think she's too valuable as a possible figure-head... or battery.

Diana glances down at the unusual lightsaber handle, frowning a little. "Are those... I'm sorry, I shouldn't pry. But... by the design, and how Valsha is speaking... are those lightsabers, uhm, the kind you really only hear legends about?" Freyja grins at Diana, but doesn't say anything. Only Zero's is showing, currently, so she lets him answer. She's not above teasing the Paladin a little!

Zero silently agrees. She's incredible. Whatever consciousness is inside Kuwatuara, we can only talk to each other in the broadest possible concepts. And she farsaw Tatooine from here! It's practically a quadrant away...

Fhazil replies, wryly, It sounds like they'd have to get through Paladin Diana, first... and unless I miss my guess, the entire company of knights-errant and Grey Jedi she's got here.

Diana shakes her head ruefully. "There never was a single name for them..." She glances inquiringly between Freyja and Zero.

Freyja snorts amusedly at Fhazil, Hai, but so what if they decide they've got to take her into the conflict? She's still embroiled in it then... just with powerful protectors and controllers. This is different from anyone else doing the same... how? She frowns, considering. Is she a really strong farseer? Master Roakkana approves of her skill, she knows, and she also knows she's seen more than a quadrant away... that must be good. She's obscurely pleased by that thought.

Zero smiles a little, perhaps a bit self-consciously, and looks up to Diana. "Actually... I guess they are. The Ophics seem to have the same hopes about a new Triat. They sent them to us, with a note to that effect."

Fhazil replies, Well, there is that. You'd have to ask them about that.

Freyja looks up at Fhazil unsmilingly, Neh. One, I don't know them that well... and two, better if they so plan, that they not know how strongly I'd disapprove.

Fhazil replies, Mmph... true, that. We'd have to wheedle some hint of what they plan to do from them.

Freyja looks up at Fhazil again from where she's still sitting comfortably on the floor, with the girl in her lap, I'm not sure I can. I would so prefer she never see the conflict at all, even from a distance. If I found out once again someone just wanted to use her, however lofty their motivations... I'm not sure I could hide my upset with them for treating her like just a thing again.

Zero says, "How they acquired them... or how the Three got to us... I couldn't say."

Freyja glances at Zero, "We could just ask them?"

Diana's eyes widen again. "The Ophics? An old friend of mine joined the Company of the Serpent's Song..." She nods and smiles. "Well. Someone wants you to succeed very much."

Zero says, "I have to admit... they chose a powerful way to express their interest. From what Roakkana mentioned, and from what the sabers themselves seem to have imparted, these are more than just powerful weapons."

Diana nods quietly. "Just from what I've read, they are more than that. And with each one unique, it adds to their mystique."

Zero says, "It may sound strange, but they seem to communicate somehow. I can only speak to it in... very obtuse ways, in broad concepts and ideas, but I think Valsha has an insight into them I don't understand yet." He smiles lopsidedly, "I imagine she has insights into a lot of things I don't, yet."

Freyja smiles ruefully, "I guess I'm lucky, then... the Golden Dancer's memnii are how she speaks to me." She thinks a moment, then adds, "Sometimes she touches me to get my attention. She's... very reassuring. Like having a Master along with me when I'm unsure. I can't always understand, but I know she's helping as best she can." She softly whispers to her lightsaber, Pretty dancer, can you tell us how you came together initially?

There is -- as usual -- no direct answer to Freyja's query. Perhaps what Valsha considers 'talking' with the Awatea sabers is not quite what most people call 'talking.' But there are flashes of Memory: the master saber-maker's forge-school, the three casings arrayed in front of him in his pavilion -- Kawatuara did not have the double-blade pattern then -- a brief view of the three first-wielders, their casings coming to them by courier. Kawatuara's wielder making the hasty yet somehow effective changes to the casing when a dozen enemies came upon him. Then, later, their journey to Ossus to hide the Awatea sabers from the Shadow Devil -- the components carefully removed, the pommel jewels and casings placed gently in the wooden box which delivered them to Freyja, Zero, and Fhazil.

Freyja blinks, her eyes going momentarily a bit stunned looking at the surge of memories -- then she remembers to breath. She blinks again, then hastily shares with her companions, not wanting to keep such important information from them, whispering, "She answered... here..." She is utterly unaware of the room for a moment -- it's like a lovely flood in her mind.

Diana smiles, tousling Valsha's hair a little. "She has insight into a lot more than I know, too." She bites her lip and nods. "I'm very, very glad you got her off of Marnaas. By the time I had learned of her, Marnaas was already over." She glances to Freyja. "I don't know where we'll go now, since we'll have to leave the refuge. Maybe gal-west..." She blinks, listening curiously to Freyja.

Fhazil blinks a little. "Well, that... that explains a lot..." Diana glances between the members of the group, quiet yet intrigued.

Freyja draws a slow breath, her blankly far-away gaze starting to clear into the normal ice blue. She blinks, then looks at Valsha and smiles, "So, do you hear that too?"

Valsha bobs her head. "Anyone can, if they can hear," she says simply. "They feel safe out here, so far from the Core."

Freyja sighs a little sadly, "Are you sure, Valsha? Your aunt didn't. I suspect you're stronger than you know." She adds quietly, "I'm sorry."

Zero smiles ruefully. "I can't blame them. Anyone with sense would feel safe out of the Core these days."

Diana smiles quietly. "I've sometimes been accused of not having terribly great focus in the Force," she says sheepishly. "Or maybe Valsha is just better at hearing that which is subtle."

Freyja looks up at Diana, then just shakes her head, "Comparing yourself only to Valsha isn't fair to you."

Valsha nods to Freyja. "Aunt Diana will learn, in time."

Diana says dryly, but with a smile, "That almost makes me nervous."

Freyja adds quietly and a touch grimly, "You shouldn't be nervous... you should be terrified. Your niece is the most valuable commodity in the entire universe." She murmurs softly again, just for Valsha, "I'm sorry, little sister."

Zero says, "I think each of us has our own focus, Diana. Mine certainly isn't in matters of knowledge... but since I learned to ally with it, the Force has been my sharpest partner in battle. Valsha's focus might simply be upon more subtle matters." He adds, softly, "Though Freyja's certainly correct. I'd hate to see what Valsha might be capable of... if her focus came to fighting."

Freyja says, "It is my hope she'll be able to stay completely clear of the entire conflict, actually. Better by far for her, I think." She says quietly (and a little regretfully) to Valsha, "You know we won't be able to stay near you, hai? We'll leave a footprint in the Force that others will come looking for. You should practice hiding in the Force, little sister."

Zero says, "Better for everyone. There'd be no stopping her, Freyja, if she mastered even half the arts that Fhazil and I are just acquainted with. There'd be nothing to stop her from doing anything she chose to do, for Light, Dark, or in between." He sighs a little and shakes his head. "But I'm an idiot for talking about you like you're not here, Valsha. I suppose you know all this already... all too well."

Diana's expression darkens. "She is not a 'commodity,'" she says fiercely. "She's... Valsha. She's who she is. She's not a thing for Templars and mad Sith to fight over." She glances up to Fhazil. "Er... no offense. She's not some petty Jedi Master's idea of the next Red General. She deserves better than being treated that way. That's the entire frelling reason we're out here in the nether-point of the galaxy, to keep away from all that so nobody gets the blasted idea that she's a thing."

"Don't think I'm overjoyed that we have to move from this safe place, too..." she sighs. "But I supposed we'd have had to at some point, anyway. Valsha keeps telling me to just trust in the Force -- it's what led me to her, after all. But when the people you're flipping the mynok to are as strong in the Force as you are -- if not stronger -- and they're actively looking for someone you care a lot about... it's hard to be that trusting in the Force.

"I apologize if I came short at you both. Keeping away from that madness has been the defining act of our lives for the past several months, and... well, I guess it's a button with me. I know you don't want her treated that way, either."

Freyja shakes her head at Zero, "It is doing what's right that would stop her... the same as it will stop us, if necessary." Her gaze at Diana is calm, "You do not need to be angry with me, Paladin. I am simply pointing out what you and she already know, even if you do not really want to acknowledge it... which I can quite understand. I am not just Padawan Freyja, after all. I know what it feels like to be considered a commodity, even if it is miniscule in comparison to what Valsha faces."

Valsha smiles and shakes her head, looking at everyone around her in turn. "I'm not worried. The Force is our ally, even if we do not know it."

Freyja smiles at Valsha quietly, "Hai."

Diana looks to Freyja for a moment, then nods with a sigh. "It was just uncomfortable knowing the Calefactors wanted Valsha as badly as those mad Sith -- the ones who attack Jedi left and right. It's.. made me angrier than I ever remember being, and it disturbs me that I can get that way after years of being a good little orthodox Jedi."

Freyja's lips quirk up at the edges in amused rue. So... even Paladins and Jedi Masters can get mad. She's not sure if that's more reassuring or frightening. She says gently to Valsha, "So, little sister, where is the best place for the Silver Path to go hide next, according to the Force? Can you tell the Presbyter that? Don't say it aloud, though... better I and my friends not know."

Valsha shakes her head, "It's not known yet, Freyja. So much can still happen in the next few months. But if a place presents itself, I will tell her."

Diana looks curiously to Freyja. "In what way do you know what it feels like to be a commodity, Padawan Freyja? -unless everything I've heard of Master Roakkana is wrong."

Freyja nods quietly to Valsha, "That would be good." She looks up at the Paladin a bit bemusedly, taking a moment to register the question... then laughs softly, amused, "Oh. Nothing that important, in the real scheme of things... I'm the Arving lady of Haus Rigg of Balmorra, that's all."

Diana blinks again to Freyja, then shakes her head. "Oh, my... I'd heard the elder Rigg daughter, Freyja, was a Jedi, but I didn't think... my apologies, Padawan Freyja, you're right. You probably know all too well what it's like."

Freyja smiles and shakes her head, "You do not need to apologize, Paladin. I'm probably a bit oversensitive myself about it, as it is. I just don't want to see Valsha ever in that position at all, if I can help it."

Diana nods quietly, smiling a little as well. "Neither do I. None of us do. The Force alone knows why we all decided to do this, but none of us want her to be used."

Zero says, "Well... we have some time yet to puzzle it all out. For now... I'm guessing from the lighting that the asteroid's gone to evening phase. Why don't we all get some rest?"

Freyja is alone momentarily with Vakkal, preparing for bed. As she thoughtfully brushes her slowly lengthening mane of fiery gold hair, she ponders. Little bits of information are falling together in her head. She realizes during all the introductions there was one thing missing -- mention of Vakkal's clan. Everyone else had a family or planet of origin... but he's always introduced only as her huskarl or Soulguard. Don't the Khar Velos natives use their clan name in introductions?

Freyja turns to look thoughtfully at the big canid, "Vakkal... if you were introducing someone from Khar Velos, you'd give their name and clan name, hai?"

Vakkal hmms? "Normally, yes. Though most of my people from Khar Velos can tell the scent of the clan, so giving the clan name really only needs to be done if you do not recognize the scent of that clan."

Freyja studies her hands for a moment, then looks up at Vakkal again thoughtfully, "I don't know if it's done this way for Soulguards, Vakkal... but you do know huskarls have the right to use their Haus name, hai? Like... you'd be Vakkal of Haus Rigg... if you wanted?" She hopes he likes that. She knows he can't use his own clan name any more, but she feels it's somehow just wrong he not be given the option to use her family's name if he wants. He's certainly behaved with great honor and integrity -- as far as she's concerned he brings glory to Haus Rigg and her family name.

Vakkal makes a curious sound. "I... think that had been mentioned somewhere in the reams of information Magnussen Ridomr had sent me."

Freyja smiles, "All right. I just realized today we always introduce you as just Vakkal, my huskarl or Soulguard, and everyone else has surnames or planets of choice, or something. I wanted to be sure you knew you had that option, if you wanted to exercise it."

He blinks, then bows deeply to her, holding that for a few moments. She realizes in a moment the odd sound he's making is him trying to speak. "I... I am very, very honored, Freyja," he rasps out. "That you would... ask me to identify with your family, to be part of your family...'

Freyja says with quiet formality, "You bring glory to my family's escutcheon, honored huskarl Vakkal. I wish I had more with which to demonstrate my thanks." A moment later she smiles with affectionate warmth, rising to gently hug him, "How could I not, Vakkal? You've been a paragon of dedication and honor throughout this whole endeavor, and an inspiration and steady presence at my back. I don't know if I could have gotten this far without you, and I look forward to many, many years more."

Vakkal embraces Freyja tightly, resting his head on her shoulder. "I... I look forward to it as well, Freyja," he says quietly and with emotion. "For as long as I've breath and blood."

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

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