Lost and Found

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Molavar was a rough place to call home. It was like Tatooine, but without the charm. Tatooine and Molavar shared the same basic idea. Desert. Lots and lots of Desert. Where as Tatooine had the claim to be able to say it had ties to Nal Hutta, Molavar was just on its own. It had no wide reaching crime lords. It was not the birth place of a great Jedi or a feared Sith.

Molavar was a place one came to die.

You never came here to make ones fortune. Never came here to see the sites. All the spaceports were seedy. All of them low income. Everyone had a story though. Everyone had a story.

The crazy old coot in the corner used to me rolling in credits. Then his company went south and he lost it all. The woman begging for change used to mean the world to someone. Now no one would care if she died. The... what every he..she.. it.. was behind the bar counter didn't always mix drinks. Word on the street was that he once mixed chemicals for a drug ring in the core. Now all of them shared a street.

Verse was no better. He liked to think so, but he was not. Verse was a Jedi. Better to say he was THE Jedi. All the rest died during Order 66. His Master, a Whiplid by the name of W'Wutha, came here to hide. Verse was told that the older Jedi made it out because the Whiplid died. Atleast the troopers though he was dead. The Jedi Master found Verse on a slave barge. Verse was just a kid. Took him away and trained him

W'Wutha died a couple years back. One could only cheat death a few times before he had to pay his dues.

That left Verse. The last Jedi. He was close to being a Master, in power atleast, when his own Master had died. The Knight didn't care for titles though. They were not needed here in the heat. Scientist. Hooker. Millionaire. They were titles that didn't matter here in the wastes. Only thing that matter was who had the biggest stick. Verse had that stick. The Cathar also swung for the fences.

Old pants and a tanktop was what the Cathar was wearing. That and still toed boots. The man below him was a mess. His face looked like bad pudding. The large Jedi had also broken the man's leg. Verse had kicked it fairly hard. Steel verus bone. Steel won. The Jedi reach down and took out the man's wallet. He flipped though it. He placed a few credit ships into his pocket. Tossed the rest to the woman hiding behind the trash can.

"If Oleander or his boys give you any trouble, and I dought they will, let me know. Sith Spit like this don't do things like this on my side of town. Make sure the other shops get thier "Protection" money back. Hit up Mrs. Guttner first. You know how here health is. This may make her day a little brighter."

The woman nodded. Verse had spent the last couple years carving out a chunk of this space port.W'Wutha had always kept a low key. Verse didn't. He never showed anyone his Force Powers. Didn't need to. He was good enough here not to need them. People were learning that.

Peace.

Here it was not a right. It was not a privilege. Here it was a spoil of war.

Verse walked into the bar. He needed a drink.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Tionne loathed public transport. Not so much for other sentients that traveled across the galaxy, but mainly because commercial freighters often lacked sufficient personal space. With her legs stuffed in the cramped space between her own seat and the one directly in front of her, the Knight could barely breath, let alone stretch her legs during the twelve hour ride to Molavar. Suppressing all of her physiological urges in a state of meditative vegetation, deeply delving into the Force, Tionne almost failed to notice the comm that announced her designated destination in a particularly accented Basic. The pilot was, without a doubt, Nar-Shaadaian.

‘’Docking at Port 26, Malcraan, Molavar in seven standard minutes. All passengers boarding off here gather in front of the ramp. We depart immediately.’’ the irritating voice sounded, waking the redhead from her cogitation. Having squeezed past an obese Twi’lek and an entire extended family of Bith on her way to the airlock, Tionne readied herself for whatever this dump of a planet had to offer. Surely, the Coruscanti had traveled to diverse planets serving as Watchman, encountering numerous civilizations and cultures she regarded as equal, just as the Code preached. However, there were places where one would come back for a vacation. Somehow, Tionne had a instinctual feeling Molavar would not be one of them.

Just as the ramp of the transporter was lowered, her intuition was proven right. A filthy, backwater pit where wind and sun reigned; a pile of deteriorating buildings that was supposedly Malcraan and then desert as far as the eye can see. The Knight blinked, chasing a few stray sand grains away from her eyes, then hid her pale face behind a black scarf that prevented coarse particles from entering her lungs. Weathered black leather jacket and pants provided good shielding from the abrasive breeze that swooped through the narrow streets as she made her way deeper into the settlement, but only if one was zipped up to the throat. Conveniently, it also kept her weapon from prying eyes in this forsaken place. No matter how much she disliked the location, Tionne had to admit W’Wutha made a prudent choice about hiding here. The further a Jedi was from civilization, the greater were his chances of survival. She only hoped other Watchmen also made such sagacious choices in the past.

As the Knight meandered through the array of passages and alleys in search of some palpable signature in the Force, she could not help but to notice how difficult life in the Outer Rim was. Honest, hard-working individuals, who had been – by some misfortune – born in such a hostile place were often oppressed and subjected to laws tailored by those who had enough credits or guns to proclaim themselves rulers. Prosecution, trial and conviction done in a simple blaster shot; a chaos one could so easily lose oneself in and grow numb to such injustice. Even Jedi – who were proactive in such matters – would condemn themselves to certain death if they tried to obstruct the law of the strong. Tionne wondered if the Whipid Master had also denounced values and morale installed by the Code in exchange for a life of a hermit and a chance to diminish into the Force when his time was up. She also hoped W’Wutha had become lax and stopped diligently cloaking his own presence in the Force, a perk all Watchmen excelled at. That way she could locate him without having to walk her way around the planet.

Just as sizzling heat almost began to take its toll, the redheaired Knight felt something brush past her senses. It was not much; a dampened presence at best, but certainly a sensation worth her attention. Glancing over her shoulder and into the crowd that ambled through the street, she briefly glazed over the faces in search of the source of this disturbance. But there was nothing there but a glimpse of a long tan mane that flagged in the wind momentarily and the disappeared through one of the doors that lead into the main street. Turning on her heel, Tionne opted to follow the trail; before reaching the veranda that stretched in front of the enterance, the Knight made sure her own Force signature was safely stashed away into the deepest corners of her being, far below the threshold of tangibility. Such an advantage beforehand was not to be wasted.

Black buckle boots clacked against the stone porch, her gaze elevated to read the name of the establishment she was going to enter.
‘’The Busty Twi’lek.’’ the Knight read the flicking neon inscription out loud, ginger brow quirking. A smile stretched her lips underneath the scarf that covered the lower part of her face.
‘’It’s not the first time you enter a striptease bar. Last time you were offered a job.’’ she concluded, stepping in.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse hated this place. Not because he disliked it. It was because he enjoyed it much more than he should. W'Wutha died only seven years ago. Verse was in his late teens during that time. He dealt with the death as any man who had lost the only father figure would.

He drowned it.

There were no other Jedi for him to talk to. They all died. He was a new Jedi. One that didn't mind the bottle. A few of the women here kept his mind at ease when the nights were dark and his soul needed some light. He had helped a few of them here a time or two. A John roughed them up. A guest wanted more fun than offered. Verse stepped in. People tended to gain manners when you cracked an eye socket or cheekbone.

Verse felt a tickle. Not a real one. A Mental one. He was a hunter. That is what W'Wutha trained him to be. They were used to be called Shadows. The old Whiplid used to say that Verse would have made a fine Jedi Shadow. He did not feel anything but his gut turned.

Fight rule of hunting. Don't look for your prey. Look around where you think they are. It sounded simple, but it was much more than that. The tracks to the right let you know where the rabbit had been. The broken twigs mainly on the right let you know what paw they favored. Doesn't matter where they are. It matters where they go.

Verse did not feel a presence around him. He didn't even look for one. He had no reason to think another Force User was around. That and it would blow his cover. To reach out and look meant you had to put your own neck out for people to see. Thus he didn't feel anything in the Force. It was in his gut. It was the feeling of meeting "The One" you knew was your all. The butterflies in your stomack before the race began. The feeling that lets you know what Pod Racer to pick before the race. Always trust your gut. Your eyes and ears can be fooled. Even your heart can be wrong. Your gut, in trained right, seldom let you down.

Then the smell hit him. It was something he didn't get often. It was clean. There is a different sort of people on backwater worlds. If you live in dirt..you smell like dirt. No matter how you scrub you always have that hint of sand. Techs alway smelled of oil. It was what they were always in. Dirt. That is what people smelled like out here. Many would not catch it. Verse always did. It was how one knew where someone had been. What they ate. Who they were with.

The was clean. Very clean. People came out from everywhere else. This was a last stop for most. That meant they smelled of grimand dirt already. This was clean. It smelled of soap. Not the kind that was made of animal fat. This was clean soap. Clean. Verse let his eyes wander while his mind tryed to find the source. Then he saw her.

She wasn't like anyone here. Not only due to the red hair. She was an angel in the slums. She glowed. If Verse was the romantic type he would be head over heels. It was a rare beauty to be sure. The was she caught the light. The way she stood. The way she had near her hip as if...ready.. to grap a weapon if needed.

Verse knew who the smell came from now. Even before his mind caught up. That was the way a fighter stood. Well over 99 percent of the world would have not seen it. She was good. Very good. Warriors held themselves at the ready. Even when at ease. She was like that now.

The tickle was bad now. His gut churned. There were no bounties out here. Verse had already taken care of them. No one worth the trip was anywhere near here. That left one reason a beautiful woman, who smelled clean, and was a trained warrior, would come to this dust bowl.

Verse wouldn't allow the people here to be dragged into this. Vader had found him at last. He was careful not to let people know. He didn't know what he did to get caught, but the gig was up. He was to get the assasin away from the people.

With that Verse grabbed the table with both hands and flipped it upward and over throwing his drinks everywhere. He no longer hid his presence in the Force. He let his inner light burn like a thousand suns.

Then like any good hero....he ran toward and out the back door.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Stone-coloured eyes took a few moments to adjust to the dim lighting of the room, scraping against clouds of smoke to see. Her hand flicked the scarf away from her face, exposing a pale, mildly freckled visage; full lips and a snub nose and cheeks untouched by the scorching sun. Despite how different she looked, only a few gazes were lifted to note her arrival. Most of the occupants continued what they were doing - enjoying in abnormal quantities of alcohol or the company of female of questionable morale - thus allowing the Knight to blend in, remaining observant of her surroundings. Slowly ambling towards the counter, she scanned the perimeter, heavily tapping into the Force to search for this disturbance she felt outside.

As Tionne brushed past futile existences of lesser people, her senses picked up a tall, burly figure seated in one of the corners, secluded by the absence of light. Even before the bartender managed to utter a single world, the Knight stepped out, canting her head to the side. Judging from the fragments of a signature that loitered in the Force, it was not W'Wutha. Could this be possible - that the Whipid finally took a student of his own and trained him? No matter how thrilling such an assumption might have appeared, it was not wise to assume this particular individual had anything to do with Tionne's fellow Watchman. Caution was taken, until proven otherwise. Just as the redhead wished to converse, resorting to more civil manners that were her style, she witnessed the Cathar making his way to the back door. A dampened grunt left her lips; darting to follow him outside, she jumped over several tables in a parabolic Force-aided leap that left a few jaws hanging. Her eyes narrowed - an innocent man does not run.

A maze of narrow allies spanned outwards, a junkyard of some sort, thus a perfect place to hide. There was no sign of the Cathar though. Nevertheless, Tionne boldly strolled forwards, her hand far away from her weapon, but ready.
''Where is W'Wutha?'' she questioned in a confident tone, her voice echoing between metallic debris that littered the place.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse slipped behind a mostly ripped apart speeder. He laid his back to the wall. He breathed deep and slow to keep the sound down. Killed by a woman. If he ever went to school he was sure this is what people got stuffed in closets over. Well. If said woman only beat him up not killed him. If he was killed they couldn't stuff his im a closet. Bad example. Maybe if she just hurt him alot.

Does it count if said girl is super hot? The Cathar could play that off to his college buddies that he let her win to try and get her number. Then Verse started to wonder why he was even having this conversation with himself. Ugly or Hot the odds were he was not going to make it. Well, he wouldn't make it. Odds were The Empire knew he was here now. If he killed her otehr would come. If he ran afterward they Empire would hurt the people here to find out where he went.

That meant the Jedi would have to die to save these people. Verse had a date this weekend. This sure killed that idea. It had been a couple weeks sence he had been with a woman. This was a sure thing. He had been working on it for a bit. Verse wondered if Assasin's could postpone killings on good faith. Some how the Jedi doughted that. The Cathar relized he was rambling again...to himself.

The larger male jumped on top of the front end of a broken speeder. He sat down in plan view of the woman. No need to hide. That would just make this longer. Might as well die on your own terms.

"You all killed him. When you killed the Jedi you broke his heart. The body can only go on so long when the soul is broken and tattered.

Why are you looking for him?"

[Tionne Thanewulf]

''A student.'' was the single thought that lingered in her mind as the large Cathar casually sat on the wrecked hull before her. It maimed a smile out of her; she never believed the grumpy Whipid would ever decide to teach. Her fleshy lips stretched into a faint, yet kindhearted grin as she took one step forward, lifting her chin to establish direct eye contact with the feline.

''I am Tionne Thanewulf, Jedi Knight, Watchman of Corellian sector.'' the redhead presented herself and bowed, then released her grip of the Force completely, making her own luminous Force signature tangible. Its tender tendrils reached out towards the Cathar, almost caressing his senses; such warmth could have never been fabricated by a Darksider. Her posture became more lax, her hand no longer hovering over the electrum hilt hidden behind leather of her tight-fitting jacket.

''I am sorry to hear about his demise. He was...a friend.'' the Jedi continued disappointedly, looking away into the distance, her eyes slightly watering. She had hoped the long-lived Whipid made it past the Inquisitors. He was the finest Jedi Sentinel after all. It turned his sensitivity was the end of him, having felt death of fellow Jedi and the steps of the Temple stained with youngling blood.
A deep sigh left Tionne's lips when he glanced back at the Cathar, visibly disturbed and saddened.
''W'Wrutha had something I need. Something the Jedi need.'' she managed, her voice barely audible.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse felt the warmth. His own signature started to mix. Then he jerked it back in. His mind started to turn in on itself like a vice. He was sure she felt the first part of the heat, but he had been caught off guard. He must not let that happen again.

He pulled his presence back. He had heard that Jedi often pulled there presence into themselves. Verse went further than that and pulled it past and behind him. That way it would be that much harder to touch.

"I am sure he had many things you Jedi wanted. I find it hard to believe that you are the Watchmen of the Corellian sector. I am sure the Empire would not like that claim to fame.

If we must have titles.. I am...."

The Cathar did not know what name to use. He had no name when him and W'Wutha had met. He had taken hundreds in his few years on Earth. W'Wutha just called him boy....and in the end Son. He remebered a couple names he used in the past.

"Verse......Verse.....Dawnstrider."

She had a title. He needed a title. Seems a Jedi needed a title. Master. Watchmen. Sentenial. Shadow. He could feel he was atleast her equal in skill and power. He had to have something that was as good as hers.

"The Beast of the Outer Rim.

Verse Dawnstrider. The Beast of the Outer Rim

Now tell me fire hair human. What is it that you wanted from W'Wutha? He did taken many things from the Temple before it feel. He hid them in the years afterward. Well. We hid them. Crystals. Lightsaber. I think even a Holocron from the Library. Many Many things.

Hell. I even have a modified Jedi Starfighetr hiddened at my home. Not the long nose things that was used at the begining of the war, but the sleeker short nosed ones used at the end.

I quess I need a question as well. Why? You knew how to find him. Your knew other Jedi lived. Why did you let him die thinking we were the last?"

[Tionne Thanewulf]

''Correction. I was the Watchman of Corellian sector.'' the Knight added, reminding herself that her former title was hardly applicable any more. Nevertheless, she grew to like her role as a Watchman over the years; it kept her on the road, instead of cooped up within Temple walls.
''It is good to meet you, Verse Dawnstrider. I am honoured to know the man who compelled Master W'Wrutha to train. He always declined to take a student, no matter how hard the Council pressed him. He was as stubborn as he was a brilliant Watchman. I will certainly miss his prudent advice.'' the redhead continued, gray eyes glistening with sincerity. It was evident she held the old Whiplid in high regard.

''But this is hardly a place to discuss such things...'' she uttered in a lower tone, leaning in towards the Cathar, her head slightly canted to the side. Tionne knew they were being watched. Talking in back allies was always inconvenient; too many prying eyes and ears that listened in.
''Do you have a quiet place where we could...talk? In private...''
Her voice was soft and inviting, perfectly orchestrated to make the bartender who stood at the door behind her think the redhead came to look for something entirely different. The bartender lecherously grinned to Verse.
''Always taking the best produce for yourself, Dawnstrider. At least give us what's left.'' the man tossed in verbally. It seemed as if Dawnstrider had his way with women here. It amused Tionne greatly.
''I promise to explain everything.'' she conveyed through the Force, her words transforming into nothing but an echo in his mind.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse smiled. It was not the smile of a man, but the smile of a hunter. Like the lion about to jump on his prey. He hopped down and brushed off some of the dust. There was no point in trying to get all of it. It was pointless.

Verse motioned for her to follow. There was no talk between them as they walked down the streets. There as not much to say. No interesting sights. Homeless. Drug dealers. Nothing worth talking about. Gang Sign tended not to start talk of fine art with most people.

They came to a little shop off the main street. Verse walked up and the door opened. When they were in he closed the door and cut on the lights. The walls seemed to be made of metel and clay. Hanging on the walls were maps of many planets with things written on them and circled. Weapons hung on the walls and on shelves. Again. Dozens of cultures. Many seemed to go with the maps on the wall. Yet another scrap yard was connected to this building. A Single bed was in the corner.

Verse kicked the underwear of a latest victory under a table as if it wasn't there and no longer could be seen. He saw a few other and relized it was a worthless and fruitless attempt.

"Well. Home sweet home. So.... is this were you tell me that we are the last two Jedi and we have to try and repopulate the Order? If so I may need to see blood work. No offence, but we just met and I don't know where you have been. YOu know what they say 'If you sleep with someone you are sleeping with everyone they have been with'. Never can be to safe."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

''Seems like you performed quite a lot of blood tests lately, Dawnstrider.'' she commented wittingly, nothing his attempt of hiding underwear that was clearly not his. He was hardly the iconic Jedi, but Thanewulf could not blame him; with no Council to monitor the rest of the Order, it was only logical to indulge in the pleasures of the flesh. Besides, he seemed lonely. Tionne could certainly relate to that.

''We are not the last two Jedi. There are others who survived and trained a new generation who is but a faint replica of former glory, but our numbers are growing. I am not the only one who survived the Great Jedi Purge.'' the Knight said, idly observing the junk yard the Cathar called home. It was a mess, like himself. Given such chaos that ensued, it was no wonder why one lost their moral compass. Or were never installed with one in the first place.

''There are Master, Knights and Padawans to be found aboard the Wheel, a fleet of ships accompanied by the Alliance cruisers. You are not alone.'' she encouraged him, then removed her jacket and tossed it aside, fully exposing the electrum hilt clipped to her waist. Aided by the Force, she unclipped it and hovered it towards the Cathar, motioning him to hold it.
''Can you safekeep that for me while I tell you my story?'' she pleaded with the kindest of smiles, her soft gaze looking for a place to sit, out and away from the sun. Her pale complexion was hardly used to this amount of ultraviolet light.
Finally finding a spot on an old hyperdrive flux generator, Tionne hopped to sit on top of it, eyes in level with the tall humanoid.

''When the Republic fell, me and my apprentice were far in the Outer Rim, away from Coruscant. Thankfully, only the High Council knew where Watchmen were during the Clone Wars, as our missions were often top secret. W'Wrutha was on Empress Teta when the Purge began, deep in the Core; he was the first of the Watchmen who contacted me with bad news - the Jedi had become enemies of the Republic. He organized for six Watchmen to rescue portions of the original Archives and transfer them to a secure location somewhere in the Outer Rim. All eight of us were assigned with holochrons, lightsabers, charts and other knowledge that was to be salvaged and protected from those who wished to destroy it. Watchmen were the only Jedi who perfected the art of Force Masking. It made it difficult for Vader's assassins to track us. However, there were members of the Order who betrayed us and disclosed information to the Emperor, ultimately embracing the Dark Side.''

A brief pause followed as Tionne took in some air, then continued.

''I was left with no choice but to freeze myself and my apprentice in carbonite, only to be found twenty five years later and defrosted. With no connection to the Force in my state of dormancy, I have not aged a day since the day I froze myself. I woke up into a shattered galaxy, all of my family and friends dead, my apprentice lost. But like I said, I'm not alone. Neither are you.'' the redhead finalized, her gaze dropping to the floor. Her insides withered, but no external signs were visible, apart from a faint flicker in those metallic irises that so hopelessly stared at the floor.

''That is my story, Verse Dawnstrider. If you choose to believe it, then there is still hope.'' Her final words were uttered solemnly; she did not expect him to abandon the comfort of his present life and join her in chasing the ideals of a past time.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse caught the Lightsaber. He spun it in his hand but did not ignite it. It was balanced well. Not made from random parts like he had seen a few would be Jedi do. He filpped the hilt and rolled it from his palm to the back of his hand without use of his other hand. It looked as if it glided, but it was all in how one was able to control the movement. Much like rolling a coin across ones knuckles.

He started into a Form V workout then flowed seemlessly into a Form II parry movement. Changed over to Form III in soem fake blocks the back into Form V. The hilt was balanced. It flowed well.

It was made from the same material as his. The golden part atleast. His was made from parts of W'Wutha's and changed to fit his own needs. That gold metel and black durosteel.

He reached to his side and pulled out his much larger hilt from a hidden pocket of his pants. They were similiar. She said that W'Wutha was a Watchmen like her. That would make sence why they had similiar hilts. With Verse changing W'Wuthas to suit the Cathar's hands, the hilts looked more like cousins than siblings.

He ignited his and filled the room with the Orange glow of his blade. It was one of two that he had. Both were orange, but the second didn't come out unless the poodoo had truely hit that fan.

When she was finished he nodded and sniffed his Blade. No one had used the blade but her in a long time. There was traces of other maybe, but not much. Not enough to be the true owner. This was her blade. He played back what she had been saying in his head. He heart rate did not increase or change. Nor did she produce the smell humans did when they lied. She was telling the truth.

"W'Wutha found me on a slave barge. Took me in. Trained me for years. We jumped planet to planet. He grew worse as the years went on. Lost the will to go on. I truely do not believe that he ever fully healed after the deaths of so many Jedi. I really believed that is what killed him. On the day he told me I was a Knight he went to sleep. Never woke up. I think was just holding on long enough for me to take care of myself. That was a few years ago now.

I moved here right after that. Set up shop. Taken care of the people as much as I could without drawing to much attention. You coming here must mean I was not as careful as I would have liked.

I wish I could be more than....this. The worlds are sick. All I do here is treat the symptoms. This....Wheel. Tell me. Are the Jedi in action or in Voice? I am not one to 'talk' about issues. I put boot to neck. It may sound harsh, but I am sure you have noticed that life is no longer pretty."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

''It is possible...that the suffering of others killed him. Sentinels, Watchmen...were attuned to the Force more than others. We could sense grief and happiness from a thousand parsecs away. After all, we are human, with a heart that is not made from stone. And there is a limit to how much it can bear...'' the Knight trailed off, remembering how she felt upon learning all of her kin had been exterminated. Her heart sulked inside her chest, but Tionne managed to block the sensation out. He needed not to feel the grief that was hers to feel. Her gaze dropped to the floor as she hopped down from her seat, flipping loose strands of waist-lenght hair backwards. Small droplets of sweat formed on her alabaster skin as the sun rose to zenith, scorching the land underneath it.

''And as for the Wheel... The Jedi are still hiding, but gathering together with Alliance forces. There are not many of us, but... I believe we have enough wit, intelligence and experience to perchance reinstall the Order. However, we are still short on Knights. Knights like you.'' she finalized confidently, picking up pace to circle around the Cathar.

''I see you are comfortable with a lightsaber. Attuned to the Force, physically fit and have the advantage of your species on your side. Perhaps a little lewd...'' Tionne paused, eyeing another piece of female underwear under the table ''...but nothing out of bounds for a healthy male of your age.''

[Verse Dawnstrider]

"New breed of Jedi for a new breed of times."

Verse stood still as she walked around. He was larger than most men. Hells, he was larger than most Cathar males. It was what he did. He never focused on the talking actions. Sure, the male Jedi could do a very good mind trick. He just found it much easier to punch the person in the face hard enough so that they forget him. Tionne may have a fancy title, but Verse had a calling card.

Well, two is you counted each hand as one.

He waited for her to have a good look. Let her take it all in. Verse was not vain per say. He knew that there were more skilled fighters out there. People that were in better shape. The Cathar knew he was in the top percential though.

"Lets be honest Sun Hair. Just because you were placed in Carbonite does not mean you have the extra years of knowledge on me.

Male my age.

Your not much older than me all things considered. Your body is still younge as well as your mind. Lets not pretend that you don't have an animal under your skin. Everyone does. I just let mine been seen on the surface."

Verse was not flirting. He didn't believe he would get anywhere with this one. Odds were her thighs would be harder to spread than butter on Hoth. No need to waste time on something that wouldn't happen. The hunter runs down the wounded prey. The easier ones. Not the one that was doughtful of getting. Meat tasted the same no matter how hard or easy it is to catch. Every lion knew that.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

The Knight jerked her head and chuckled lightly. A few steps where made towards the Cathar, her index finger poking against his ample chest, while the knuckle of her other free hand pressed against her waist. Nobody had the right to lecture Tionne on what she was and what she was not; unlike other Jedi of her time, the Coruscanti was quite aware of her own advantages and flaws alike. Caging an inner beast was not one of them. Where reason reigned, there was little place for instinctual passion.

''What would you know of my experience, Verse Dawnstrider? I was a Knight before you were born. True, that does not give me the right to belittle you in any way, even if you view me as inferior be it for my gender, appearance or some other trivial reason you can come up with.'' she said, then fell back on her heels. Certainly, Tionne never asked for honour and respect that was not earned, but there was no chance in hell she would let anybody speak to her like this. On the other hand, she could understand Dawnstrider; he had only encountered women who's sole purpose was to be a mattress accessory.

''Besides, I would not ask you to come with me if I did not think highly of you. You must be extraordinary since W'Wrutha agreed to train you. Maybe it's about time you let the galaxy know you exist.'' she concluded boldly, deeply peering into the feline's luminescent orbs. The moment would last longer if something did not brush past Tionne's finely attuned senses. Eyes narrowed and ginger brow furrowed, fleshy lips pressed together.
''We have company.'' the redhead stated lowly, her mental grip already wrapping around the hilt of her saber a few meters away.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse sniffed the air. He kneeled down and touched the ground. His eyes closed for a moment. He was feeling for the vibrations that were being made. He let his mind reach out and cover the outside areas.

"Three of them One alive and two...droids? They are rolling it seems. They are not as balanced as wheels. Heavier on one side. They do not rool as smoth as wheels do. That is rather odd.....

It is a Wookie as well. They have as strange smell due to the heat here. It is how I picked you out the group. Your shampoo. Same idea. His fur hold in heat and thus he has a stronger odor than most people.

Seems Magon has truely had her fill of me...."

Seeing the look that the human was giving him he desided to go a bit further into his details. He held his saber in his had and pushed down the strigger. The snap-hiss filled the room followed by the Orange glow.

"Would be crime lord. Her pockets are not as deep as she would wish. I am sure she would be somebody by now if I was not here. I have done damage control for lack of a better word. Guess she is taking what money she has left and wants to rub me out. That way she can fully take control..."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Tionne lifted her gaze from the floor, lips parted in awe. It had been some time since she heard that clicking, rolling sound. Her eyes initially widened, as reminiscence of the Clone Wars flooded her senses. A knot formed in her gut. This was not going to be pretty.
''Droidekas.'' she whispered, shaking off any residual feelings of discomfort. Dawnstrider was soon going to learn what trouble that particular model of droid caused to the Jedi. If equipped with a shield, lightsabers were useless against them. Even a versatile Soresuist that Tionne was had trouble holding their ground against them for long, thus having to resort to other, more unorthodox methods of combat. No wonder Tionne had a distaste for anything mechanical, especially if it was a droid.

''What in the name of the Force are droidekas doing here?'' she quizzed frantically, her words followed by a frustrated grunt. A single glance was shot towards the place Verse put her lightsaber; in a split second, the chamber was lit by two brilliant orange pillars of light, not just one. Just as Tionne fell into initial Soresu stance, firmly planting her feet into the dusty ground, the durasteel door shot open with an explosion. Through the cloud of smoke and over scattered debris, two ancient but functional battle droids rolled in. Blaster bolts flew over instantly as the robots hid behind their blueish shields, first few blasts deflected by a versatile scoop of Tionne's iridescent saber. Just as she thought things could not get worse, a metallic projectile rocketed through the air, slamming itself into the hull of the generator Tionne sat just minutes ago. A Kaminoan poison dart.

''Whoever it is, they know you are Jedi.'' the Knight blurted out, the sound of her own saber humming deafening her in a manic attempt to deflect all bolts coming their way.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse smiled. He brought his saber up to his prefered style of Form V. He was a master of Shien. Both the reverse grip as well as the standard style. He slammed back bolts with ease and chuckled as they bounced off the shields.

"It is a good day to die. Sun is out. Weather is good. Not a cloud in the sky. Besides, all they have is some cheap darts and old droids. We are Jedi after all. What can go wrong?"

A Dart raced in the room and Verse tried to block it. Being more solid that a Blaster bolt his saber burned it, but not fully stopped it. It was pushed off course and slammed into his left shoulder. He sighed and he pulled it out and his vision started to blurr. He will the Force through him and amped up his healing factor that all Cathar had.

"See what I mean? Not a problem...."

That is around the time is left arm went numb then fell to his side and the Jedi no longer could feel it. He raised an eyebrow, but kept his cool.

"Well....that wasn't planned on."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

In all the commotion created, with blaster shots flying around and a cloud of thick smoke encircling their adversaries, Tionne barely noted the words the Cathar uttered before slumping to the floor, his almost lifeless body squirming before it finally hit the dirt. Her eyes widened in discredit when a frustrated grunt left her lips.
''I always have to do everything myself, always...'' the redhead chided, shaking her head knowingly. Whatever made her think she could rely on this man perished into thin air, with nothing but a residual feeling of solitude loitering about. Kaminoan darts were always filled with poison, the venomous effect irreversible by any know medicine or potion; Tionne had witnessed far too many of her fellow Jedi exterminated by this vile method.

''I'm done playing a lady, boys.'' the Knight hissed through her teeth, heavily encroaching into the flux of the Force she found herself in. Projecting the field through the surface of her palms, Tionne willed for the droids to levitate from the ground and so they did. For the shortest period of time, she fueled her fervor from her perennial dislike for everything mechanical, consequently making both droidikas slam into the wall behind the Wookiee. When there was nothing of them left but metal rubble and charred circuits, Tionne scooped her saber from the floor and rolled over the ground to stab the bounty-hunter right through his gut. A loud moan filled the air when life left the hairy corpse and the smell of burned flesh filled the air.

***

The twin moons of Molavar were in zenith, sovereignly reigning the star-sprinkled sky that domed over the two Jedi. The feline was fast asleep on his own bed, where Tionne barely managed to drag him over, with only the faint lustre of a small opened fire illuminating the confined junkyard he called home. A rag was tied over his shoulder where the dart had hit him, despite the fact he probably managed to heal himself already. Tionne knew his kind and their curative properties, the same ones she could never muster via the Force. The small blaster bruise on her forehead thus remained intact, as she found no time and will to attend to it. Instead, she gazed into the fire whilst sitting next to Verse's bed, her mind thousands of miles away. She waited for him to wake. Thankfully, the dart was only filled with stunning fluid. Somebody wanted him alive.

[Verse Dawnstrider]

Verse's eyes shot open. He was alive. That amused him to no end. He truely thought he would be dead by now. He looked over to see his red haired savior. Doughts she was no a Jedi left him. She saved him because that is what Jedi did.

Verse would keep the fact that he let himself be hit to himself. That was if he let himself be hit. For some reason he felt he did. The poison still had his head fuzzy. He felt like he did though. A Final test. A win/win one at that. If she was a Sith then she would not have saved him and been able to heal him. He would have died and the people here would be left alone. If she was a Jedi she would step up. It was a wonderful plan. Cunning as a Yavin fox.

That is if it was his plan. He was still unsure on that one. That was a nagging thing in his mind that said he was still tipsy from all the beer and his reflexs were just slowed. After a moment of thought he desided the better story would be that he planned it. That sounded alot better.

"Seeing as my shirt is off I am assuming you had to undress me. Taking a look at the goods were you? Sneaky sneaky girl."

Verse saw the burns on her forehead and desided to end the jokes. Odds are if she found out he took the dart as a test she would be very pissed. Seeing her in battle he knew she was a good fighter. He thought eh would take her though. She was disiplined. Focused.

Verse had kicked a man in the crouch a few months back at the start of the fight to get the upper hand and threw glass in another's eyes to end it. Odds were they didn't teach that back at the Temple.

"That was fun. If you do not mind lets not do that again. I normally do the saving. Then I am rewarded with a little bumply action. I am a little uncomfortable with you trying to get the same reward. Not that I am against the bumply... it is just that I enjoy being the man in that area. YOu know what I mean?"

Ok. He couldn't not joke. He did have standards and bad jokes just so happened to be one of the top ones. Next to afternoon naps. Those always came first.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Tionne diverted her gaze from the fire to the now awake Cathar. If she was just another damsel, weak and whiny, she would probably be swayed by his charms and wit; but Thanewulf was no such female. Resourceful, tactful and methodical - and above all resistant to such displays of carnality - she found his opening lines amusing nevertheless. It reminded her briefly of her Corellian student and the fun times they had back in the days. Cooped up in the impregnable fortress of her mind, her immunity was tested once again and she withstood. However, her patience was running low.

''You have something I want.'' the redhead leaned in over his head. Her eyes sought his as her face plastered with newly found austerity. She levitated her upper body over the Cathar for a few brief moments, just to prove a point.
''And that's not it.'' she finalized, glancing downwards to the bulge lower along his body, covered by the rough woollen blanket. It was not the first time she witnessed a reacting of this kind; as a sentientologist Tionne knew much about mating rituals of many species, including the Cathar. Males were dominant, her demonstration of preponderance cunningly aimed to burst his lecherous bubble.

Quickly hopping to her feet, the Jedi walked to the fire and picked up the hilt of her saber from the floor, reattaching it to her belt with her back turned to Verse.
''Your Master had been trusted with a worthy artefact. The Codex of Tython. It contains earliest recorded Jedi history, thus it must be returned to the Jedi so that new generations may learn from it, like I did.''
The ginger-haired woman turned her head, peering over her shoulder at the feline that still lay in bed.

''Whoever sent those...they knew you are a Jedi. It is hard to defend oneself against Kaminoan saberdarts. Besides, the Wookiee did not come to kill you. They wanted you alive. And that, my friend, means only one thing. The Empire knows you are here. And enemies will keep coming, stronger and more determined. You can't stay here. Not after this.''