The Force Always Says Yes [Star Wars]

After a couple more hours of gaming and a few more rule variants, they had all ended up with more or less the amount of money they started with. Nerim felt himself wobble a little in his chair, and his eyes felt slower to blink and open than usual. Though he had had alcohol prior to this, it had never been enough to overcome his natural resistance and make him feel anything other than warm. The experience was strange to him, and he had no lens through which to really understand it except the Force.

During deep meditation he had occasionally felt a similar disconnect between his body and mind. More rarely, he had felt a sense of disconnection between his mind and his self. He felt both now, as if his perception was being carried away by a tide that rocked his body and mind like boats he had floated away from. But while meditation brought a sense of clarity and distance, now he felt a hazy intimacy with...nothing in particular. Or maybe everything? It was hard to tell.

Arwain, though tired, seemed almost perfectly sober—he wasn't sure how much of that was acting, versus using the Force to negate the intoxication, versus her genuinely just having a high alcohol tolerance after years of un-Jedilike behavior. She had made off with the most of the winnings, although after so many games, it had more or less evenly split between the players, leaving everyone with just a couple dozen more or less than they started with. Nerim had a strong lead at first, and then serious losses later, followed by a number of marginal gains until he had broken exactly even.

Smeebi stood up and stretched his legs, yawning with a strange buzzing noise as he did so. "I have to get to bed and sleep myself sober, now, so I can be ready in time to actually bring the ship in. This has been great fun, though! I've never gotten to cut loose with Knights, before."

"None of us are Knights," Arwain said with some mixture of amusement and grief.

"Oh, right. Sorry. You still feel like—" Smeebi cut himself off, placing a hand to the back of his neck, as if thinking better than to finish that sentence. "...Well, regardless, it's been fun. I hope you enjoy your evening," he said, and then gave them a surprisingly graceful bow and then stumbled off.

Arwain began gathering the cards back together, a small smile on her face despite everything. "Nerim, I wanted to ask you something..."

"What's that, Master?" Nerim asked, folding his arms on the table and resting his chin on top of them.

"Why do you think we got exiled?" She asked, making him blink in surprise.

"Well, first off, I got exiled. You resigned," he reminded her.

"Oh...Yes," she said, and then made a quiet, repressed laugh.

Nerim couldn't help but laugh too. "I don't think there's much to say. They think I'm a bad Jedi. I can't even say they're entirely wrong."

Tetha shook her head, leaning back in her chair and frowning. "I can't say I know what a good Jedi is, exactly. But I feel there's more to it than that."

"Why?" Nerim asked, looking to her curiously.

"The first thing that tipped it off is that they kept asking questions to each other instead of us." Tetha explained, drumming her fingers on the table. "They asked us very open-ended questions that we couldn't answer in a productive manner, like why we weren't talking much, or how it was possible that Fae died, or how they could possibly start an investigation without coordinates. They asked rhetorical questions we weren't supposed to answer, like repeatedly asking Arwain for information on the Dark Orders that we already said we hadn't identified. At times they explicitly asked one another why they were even having the hearing. I feel like we came in at the tail end of a longer argument."

"Very observant," Arwain nodded and raised her cup, before drinking the last of her lum. "They were checking one another for conformity. The Council has to act in unanimity, and there are long, drawn out procedures that are a part of achieving that unity."

Nerim closed his eyes in thought. "Well, they had already made up their minds before we even went on the mission. It all seems rather perfunftry to me," he said. "Perfunctory," he repeated, slower. "It doesn't surprise me that the meeting wasn't about relitigating my case."

"Yes," Arwain agreed, "Which raises the question as to what they were trying to obtain unity on."

Tetha looked at her, and then narrowed her eyes. "...You did mean it when you said 'we were exiled', didn't you?"

Nerim opened his eyes, and raised his head. Arwain smiled slightly. "I think so," she nodded.

"You think they were trying to exile you?" Nerim's brow furrowed.

"I know for a fact that some of them—maybe even most of them—wanted me reassigned or exiled," Arwain said, looking to the side, "And to some extent, I believe the way they confronted us was a method of trying to make their case to the remainders. But I think it was significantly larger than me."

"Sure, maybe," Nerim admitted, sitting up a bit more. "Without Fae, they must have a lot of large things to consider. But what do you think it was in particular?"

Arwain raised her cup and then glanced down and frowned at its empty state. "I think they were trying to make an example. They were trying to say, 'Just because Fae is dead, doesn't mean the Order is changing,' and getting rid of two egregious examples of heterodoxy is part of that."

"Ah. Maybe," Nerim yawned. "They did say something like that when we left."

Arwain raised her head with a start. "What?"

"When we were trapped on that damn elevator. Gendi and that other guy were arguing about whether this was a new Order or not," he explained.

She stared at him for a moment, and shook her head slowly. "Unbelievable. You could sense inside that room? You're just full of surprises..."

He blinked. "Do you...do you not? I just assumed that's what it's like for every Jedi, all the time," he frowned. "I thought that's what I was missing out on."

"But the Council chambers? Ehr, regardless," Arwain took a moment to clear her train of thought. "The way I see it, there are two potentialities here. One is that the Jedi Order is resolutely committed to maintaining its unreformed state, and that our hopes of changing it from the inside have vanished. The other is that we were unfortunately the target of a last ditch lashing out of the traditionalists, and we will see some sort of positive reform shortly."

"There is always a third option," Nerim said, rubbing his face. "It could be that they're about to get much worse."

"I was choosing not to see that one."

He smirked. "It's funny to me that you're such a dedicated reformist, when that put you exactly opposite to Fae."

"Not as opposite as you might think, Apprentice," Arwain smiled wistfully. "She was something of a revolutionary in her youth, too."

"...Too?"

"I'm perfectly youthful," Arwain said with faux-offense, trying not to smile as she stood up. "Regardless, thank you for your counsel. I believe I'm about to pass out, so I should get in a bed first."

Tetha's eyes scanned the space around Arwain as she stood. "I've been meaning to ask...how does your agelessness function?"

"Dunno," Arwain shrugged and began to walk away towards her sleeping quarters. "I never asked my Master."

Tetha's lips pursed. "Are you...lying, or...?"

Arwain simply waved and disappeared down the hallway. Nerim frowned. "It's disturbingly in character for her to have not asked, but I find it hard to believe she could not know..."

Tetha sighed and placed her chin on her hand. "Well, I'm starting to see where you get it from."

Nerim shrunk under the comparison. "We're nothing alike."

"Honestly, you seem pretty similar to me," she said flatly, with a tired but content smile on her face.

He looked down at the table for a moment, his eyes unfocusing and his brain trying to sluggishly think of what to say next, when a familiar, cool soothing feeling pressed against his chest. Suddenly he blinked himself awake, and reached out to grab Tetha's hand. She grasped his hand back, with some pleasant surprise.

"Hey, there's something important I gotta tell you. Follow me," he said.

"Oookay?" She agreed questioningly, but not reluctantly. He stood up wobbly and staggered down the hall with her in tow, hands clasped together. He still held a deep appreciation for the feeling of her hand in his, although he suspected she was even more fascinated with it than him.

He took her down the hall until they reached his room, and he pulled her in, closing the door behind them. The room was mostly dark, only lit by a few electronics and a soft yellow night light. She looked around, confused as Nerim drunkenly fumbled around for a light switch, only to stop and lean against the wall. "Actually, maybe better that we don't turn on the lights," he mumbled, letting go of her hand.

"Excuse m—" Tetha stopped, her mouth snapping shut and her eyes widening as Nerim reached for the collar of his tunic and began pulling it loose. "O-oh. Okay..." She said nervously, rubbing her arm bashfully and then staring intently at him. "O-okay. Yeah!"

After a few seconds of inept tugging, Nerim managed to reach into the front of his tunic. He pulled a black string and retrieved his necklace, taking it off his head. At the end was a dark blue crystal, glowing ever-so-slightly with its own light and humming harmonically. "This is your lightsaber crystal," he said happily.

"Oh!" She blinked, rearing back. "Oh, yeah, totally. Um. What?" She shook her head in confusion and looked again.

"I found this in the Revanchist Temple on Cathar," Nerim explained, gently taking her hand and placing the crystal in it, holding it between their palms in a way that made his spine tingle. "Every time I look at it or touch it, I think of you. So I'm pretty sure it's yours. I'm actually kind of surprised I got away with taking it, although I don't think anyone other than Chey-Linn ever noticed I had it in the first place."

She looked down at their hands, and then up at him. "But...I can make my own crystals. And you're a Jedi. Shouldn't this be for you?"

He smiled and shook his head. "Not how it works. It belongs to you. And besides, I'm not a Knight."

"Well, isn't it illegal?" She asked, beginning to smile affectionately at him. "I mean, maybe not just having the crystal itself, but..."

"If the Force didn't want you to have it, then it wouldn't have given the crystal to me," Nerim said confidently, still wobbling a little. In the darkness he found it harder to keep his balance, and he began to tilt sideways, until Tetha moved up close and wrapped her other arm around him to keep him steady, their clasped hands now pressed between their chests over their hearts.

Their faces were now distractingly close to one another. Nerim's bleary eyes couldn't hardly pierce the darkness anymore, so he just smiled. "I meant it. I thought of you every time I touched the crystal, and I kept it close to me all this time..."

"Nerim..." She softly spoke his name, which gave him a sense of warmth and comfort he found sort of inexplicable. Then she giggled. "Nerim," she said a little more firmly, "You're about to pass out."

"No I'm not," he laughed, shuffling his feet to try and stay standing.

"Come on, before I drop you." She guided him towards the middle of the room and gently sat him down on a meditation rug, their hands still clasped together around the crystal. "I don't think you're gonna make it up into the hammock."

"I would fall out," he agreed. Their hands parted, hers keeping the crystal, and she reached up and grabbed the pillow out of the hammock for him.

"Here," she said, sitting down on her knees next to him.

"Thank you, Tetha," he said groggily, absentmindedly pulling her closer until they were, to his surprise, hugging. He hadn't exactly planned for that, he just sort of started pulling her on instinct.

She seemed happy with it, though, and hugged him back, the side of her face pressed against his. Her cheeks felt warm, and she held him tightly. She wasn't entirely steady either, and eventually Nerim felt her fall over with him, landing on the pillow and holding one another as they lay there.

He couldn't stop his eyes from closing and his muscles from relaxing as he sunk into the floor. "Wow..." He yawned. "It's just like I dreamed..."

Tetha laughed warmly at that. "You're so dumb."

"But I'm cute, right?" He asked hopefully.

He felt her kiss him on the cheek. "Yeah. Way too cute."

"I love you, Tetha," he mumbled absently, the final vestiges of resistance leaving his body as he fell asleep. She said something back, and although he wasn't conscious enough to make out the words, the tone of her voice made him happy.

___________________________________________________________________________________



Nerim awoke with a dry mouth and lead in his bones. His first thought was that he was pleasantly surprised not to have a pounding headache, although the lights stabbing his eyes were not entirely to his liking. The intercom was crackling out some unwanted noise, so he clung tighter to the source of warmth and comfort in front of him. Tetha grunted at the sudden constriction of her lungs.

"—Saarkane, so wake up and buckle up!" He could make out Smeebi's voice over the intercom.

Nerim groaned and opened his eyes, rubbing the sleep out of them. He stretched all his limbs out forward while still laying down, like a disgruntled cat, and then rolled back over and looked at Tetha. She had immediately fallen back into a deep sleep. He watched her breathe for a moment before reaching over and shaking her shoulder. "Hey, sleepy. You gotta wake up."

"Mmmnnh..." Tetha murmured. "...No sun."

He blinked. "Wha?"

She frowned, still half asleep. "Not enough sunlight...wake me up later..."

"We're in a starship. Going to Saarkane. There won't be any sunlight," he frowned and sat up.

"Nnghhh..." Her frown deepened, and she kept her eyes screwed shut. "Haven't photosynthesized in a week...Dorin all over again..."

He smiled down at her. While she was otherwise indisposed, he decided to take the opportunity to reach out and gently stroke her cheek. She stirred a little, an arm raising and grabbing his wrist, although not stopping him. Slowly, one eye cracked open and glared at him, her black iris reflecting glints of light at him. "To be honest..." He began, "I like Smeebi and all, but I want to be off this ship as quickly as possible."

She heaved a big sigh and sat up, tiredly fixing her hair as best as she could and hiding the crystal necklace under her clothes. They both swayed a little from the momentum as the ship snapped out of hyperspace, and then stood up and moved to the door. It opened and he stepped outside.

As soon as he stepped foot outside, Arwain's door opened, and she quickly walked out down the hallway towards him. "Padawan! I think I've made a breakthro—" She paused for a microsecond as she walked in front of his door, caught eye contact with Tetha, and kept walking. "We'll talk about it over breakfast!"

Arwain disappeared around the corner, and he frowned. "I hate it when she does that," he complained. Then he turned to Tetha, to see her face flushed bright red. "...What?"

"I hate this feeling more than anything," she grumbled, crossing her arms defensively.

"What feeling?" He asked, concerned.

"Doing the time without even getting to do the crime," she scowled.

"What crime?" Nerim frowned. Tetha ignored him and walked to the bathroom. He sighed and trundled into the main room, collapsing into a seat at the table as Arwain arranged some sort of strange breakfast made of stick-shaped biscuits and an unidentifiable soft paste to dip them in. "What was your breakthrough, Master?"

Arwain grinned at him. "We're gonna be okay!"

"...I know, Master."

She frowned. "Well, it felt like a breakthrough at the time," she said quietly, placing one of the sticks in her mouth. "Also! I managed to make contact with Jianno! It was a little difficult, given I no longer have my Jedi-associated holonet access. She's actually quite rude to unsolicited messages..." Arwain pouted.

He perked up at that. "That's good. Did she ever make it to Saarkane?"

"Yes. I gather she arrived either shortly before or after we left. She said she's been working over the past couple days while we've been gone, and she wants to meet in person to discuss something important."

"...Master, you didn't tell her we've been kicked out of the Order, did you?"

Arwain nervously chewed as Smeebi's voice rang over the intercom. "Alright! We'll be pulling in around 16:00 local time. Weather will be a cozy 13 Standard degrees, overcast skies, and thunderstorms expected by the evening. I managed to snag the lot next to The Lucky Worm, so you won't walk far!"

"Convenient," Nerim smiled, thankful not to have to go on another trek early in the morning. Or late afternoon, if he were going by Saarkane time now.

Tetha emerged and snatched the box of biscuits away from Arwain, preparing her own breakfast silently. Nerim took the opportunity to occupy the bathroom himself, and wash out the terrible morning breath he had accumulated. As he went through his routine, he felt a prickling feeling on the back of his neck, although was unable to focus on what exactly was disturbing his senses.

By the time he had finished everything and returned relatively refreshed, they were close enough to descent that they had to pick up all of the kitchen items and strap themselves in. The flight into Saarkane's atmosphere was smooth and peaceful, and when they came to a landing and stood up, Smeebi exited the cockpit and proudly put has hands on his hips.

"Well, another happy landing!" He said cheerfully. "Sorry to say, but this is where I'll be seeing you off. A Jedi Serviceman always has a million things to do. I'm glad to have met you."

"You too, Smeebi," Arwain smiled. Nerim and Tetha echoed the sentiment, and they gathered their belongings and disembarked.

They reached the bottom of the boarding ramp, and Smeebi hung out the portal for a moment. "If we ever meet again, you're treating me to drinks!" He said, waving and retracting the ramp.

"Fine, just don't think I'll let you win at sabacc!" Arwain retorted, waving back. As they were walking away, Arwain smiled and glanced to her two companions. "Nice guy."

Nerim nodded. "Better Jedi than most Knights."

"Only Jedi I've met that hasn't been a pain in my ass," Tetha said dryly.

They laughed, and Nerim took a moment to deeply breathe in. The air was tinged with oil and metal from around the docks, but it still had the cold, foggy dew of Saarkane. He wasn't used to returning to planets that weren't Coruscant. They went through the (considerably longer and more bureaucratic) process of passing through customs without their Jedi identifications, and entered the spaceport proper.

Tetha pat down her ripped jacket and sighed. "The Lucky Worm has probably racked up a thousand credits of fees by now. What a pain."

Arwain shrugged helplessly. "To be honest, you're probably the richest person here, now."

"The program you signed me up for isn't as generous as you might think," Tetha said resentfully, beginning to move towards a desk, when they each felt a tingling sensation.

There was commotion behind the group, and as each of them turned, their eyes landed on Governor Irmat, as he quickly walked through the atrium and towards them, flanked on either side by several armed and armored bodyguards who moved the murmuring crowds out of the way, and an almost disturbingly thin assistant in a dark suit with thick rimmed glasses. The Governor's face was pure black, as he spread his arms. "Welcome back! You neglected to tell us you were leaving in the first place."

"Sorry about that," Arwain replied in a manner that made it clear she was not very sorry. Jianno stepped out from the shadow of one of the bodyguards, and her face lit up. "Hi, Jianno!"

"Hello," the Mandalorian replied, her voice as steely and angry as it usually was, in an almost comforting sort of way.

"You're working with the Governor?" Nerim asked, tilting his head.

Vseyav motioned with his hand, clearly saying 'not in public', and nodded towards the exit. "Shall we speak on the drive?"

"Whoa, hold on," Tetha said, holding her hands up. "I have to get changed. I've been wearing these rags too long."

Vseyav smiled tightly. "Very well. We can talk on your ship. This one, is it?" He pointed back towards the gate they had emerged from.

"Actually," Nerim said, cutting in and stepping forward, "It's the dock next to it. Unfortunately, we can't access it yet since there are some bureaucratic things to cover, late fees, overstaying requires mandatory security checks..." He trailed off. "...Could be a few hours..."

The Governor snapped his fingers, and his assistant stalked off. "It's handled. Let's go now."

Arwain looked down at Nerim, her expression somewhere between concerned and impressed. "Fae was right about you."

Vseyav looked between the three of him, and his brow raised. "Where is Grand Master Fae Coven, anyways?"

"...Let's talk on the ship," Arwain said.

The group stood outside of The Lucky Worm as the loading ramp slowly lowered. Right away, Nerim could smell the spices, and a whirlwind of memories assaulted him. A moment before the ramp even touched the ground, he had boarded it and excitedly climbed in, the others following behind him. Irmat left his bodyguards outside, thankfully, making sure the interior didn't turn from cozy to cramped.

Arwain unslung her duffel bag and held it out to Nerim. "Student, could you put this away while I explain the situation?"

He smiled and took it, thankful that his Master had given him an opportunity to escape. The amount of luggage he was now carrying was a little cumbersome, but he managed to trundle down the hallway regardless. Tetha quickly followed him as he approached the barracks.

"Er, for the record, I've been doing renovations," Tetha said, their footsteps echoing as the metal clanged beneath them. "The old bunk beds aren't there anymore."

"That's a relief. They were awful," Nerim said happily. "Hopefully something more suited to near-Mirialans than Dugs?"

"Well, yes," she said as the door opened. He looked around, noting with appreciation that it looked much more like an actual bedroom now, with a desk and wardrobe where the bunks used to be, and a decent bed in the center. She had made progress turning it into an actual home for herself, which made him happy.

Then he tilted his head. "Hm. I see the issue now," he said, looking at the quite singular bed in the room he had assumed would accommodate all of them.

"I kept one set of bunks in the cargo hold, just in case. So Arwain and Jianno have a place." she said, pressing her fingertips together. He noticed some amount of nervousness in her. "But, ah, as for you..."

He frowned, a little disheartened. She hadn't seemed incredibly happy in the morning, either. "If it makes you uncomfortable, I can sleep with my Master. I've done it before."

"You what?! No!" She suddenly objected. "Just—" She grabbed his duffel bag off his shoulder and dropped it on the floor, sliding it up to the bed and glaring at him.

He blinked. "I feel like there's some Utapauan cultural context around sleeping that I must be missing here."

"Utapauan?! You—" She sighed and sat down on the side of the bed, arms crossed. "Jedi really are sheltered."

He walked in front of her and frowned. "So what, is it like, an Outer Rim thing...?" His eyes trailed downwards, noticing a glint. When Tetha sat down on the bed, the covers shifted, revealing a small, circular metal object on one of the pillows. "What's that?"

Her eyes followed his to the object, and she froze. Slowly, she reached out and picked it up, holding the medallion in her palm. It first appeared to be a very dark gray, but as she raised it to the light, he noticed a slight shade of cyan, albeit very dark and desaturated. "I...have no idea," she admitted.

The metal was cast in such a way as to resemble a creature of some sort curled around the centerpiece. The creature appeared somewhere between a bat and a mongoose, with a sinuous body that ended in long claws or sharp teeth on either end. Its arms, along with its wings, were gripping onto the centerpiece, a rounded piece of the metal that resembled a large egg.

"Hold on..." Tetha squinted at it, running her fingers across the metal. "I do recognize it, sort of. It's made of olethra."

"Olethra?" Nerim repeated.

"It's a relatively unique metal, only naturally found on planets in the Dernatine system. Everyone in school was kinda obsessed with Hutt Space. I remember Crybaby was so proud of the olethra earring he got..." She said as she stroked the metal, reminiscing with a twinge of both fondness and regret.

"You don't remember leaving it here?" He asked, reaching forward and touching the metal. He felt the cold surface, the microscopic grooves and channels in its surface. As he touched it, he felt a tugging sensation, and a sense of flowing water rolling across his hand, which sent a chill up his spine. It was reminiscent of the sensation around Darth Machina's holocron, but not quite the same. It was Dark, but not imperious. In fact, it was almost...afraid. It was like it was trying to shrink out of his sight.

"Oh," he said, suddenly breathless. "I recognize this too."

"What is it?" Tetha asked, her intense eyes meeting his.

He took a moment to close his eyes, breathe, and center himself. A face appeared in his memory. "It belonged to the Togruta woman I encountered, just before we joined up together. The Dark Side of the Force was with her, but I let her go. Where is the Dernatine system, again?"

She gripped the disc tighter. "Edge of Hutt Space, on the Salin Corridor. Several planets, the biggest one is—"

"Boonta," they said simultaneously. Nerim looked back down at the disc and frowned. "She must have recognized you were associated with us, and snuck in and left this here."

"Why?" Tetha asked, suddenly nervous. She glanced around the room for anything else out of place.

"I don't know. She...She seemed more afraid of someone else than me. I think someone in her own organization," he said, placing a hand to his lips in thought. "The Twi'lek that we apprehended was killed by a slaver bomb, presumably activated by an observer. This might be a call for help."

She looked up at him from the bed. "Alright...I can't say I'm pleased by this," she said, consternation clear on her face, "But we should tell Arwain."

"Probably. Although she's probably still talking to the Governor. We—wait. Mar'e! Boonta!" Nerim's eyes widened, and he placed his hands to the top of his head, grabbing his hair.

"What?" Tetha asked, eyebrow raised.

"I see a path," Nerim said cryptically, beginning to pace in front of her. All of those murky threads of the Force were beginning to make themselves visible to him, as if it were prompting him—begging him—to make a decision. He only had to choose the right order to pluck them in.

"What kind of path, exactly?" She asked skeptically from the bed, head tilting.

"The dangerous kind," he said, rubbing his forehead. "The kind where you have to be really careful not to fall off."

She smiled gently, and stood up, placing a hand on his shoulder. "Okay. Give it to me slow, and I'll tell you if it's stupid."

___________________________________________________________________________________



Nerim and Tetha emerged into the main room, where Arwain and the Governor leaned over the table in the booth, and Jianno silently stood with her back to the wall across from them. Vseyav Irmat pensively placed his clasped fists to his mouth. "In my system..." He said lowly. "Fae Coven dead, in my system..."

Arwain's eyes flicked to Nerim, and she nodded. "Apprentice."

"Master. How's he taking it?"

"Better than we did, worse than we are," she shrugged.

The Governor lightly dropped one of his hands to the table, still clenched in a fist. "Of all the systems in the Galaxy, to end over eight hundred years..." He sighed. "This is a disaster. We have no idea what the corporations are doing, I can't explain Fae Coven's death, I can't explain the Dark Jedi presence on my world...There will be riots in the streets."

"Not necessarily," Nerim said.

Arwain's eyes narrowed. "Where are you going with this, Apprentice?"

Nerim took a breath, stood up straight, and spoke firmly. "I know where the Dark Sider that got away has gone."

"The what that got away?" Irmat asked, his fur rippling a dark blue.

"The Togruta that attacked us," Nerim clarified.

The blue turned to red. "The report said she was an innocent bystander!"

"She was an accomplice of the Dark Sider affiliated with Czerka. I let her go knowingly," Nerim said, gesturing towards Tetha, "And before you get mad, she seems to have left us a clue in repayment."

Tetha stepped forward, and presented the metal disc to them. Arwain leaned forward in intrigue, Irmat displayed faint blue underlines beneath his eyes in surprise, but it was Jianno who suddenly left her resting spot and marched up to them. "What is that?" She demanded.

Tetha allowed Jianno to grab it, upon which the Mandalorian immediately began scanning it with an apparatus from her belt. "It's an olethra medallion," Tetha explained, "This metal is only found on Boonta. It's a dead giveaway, a direct location. A planet which we already know has Czerka affiliations, among others, obviously including Hutts."

Jianno's scanner dinged with a positive identification of the material. She gripped it a little tighter, visibly taking in a deep breath. Nerim could almost see the gears turning. Obviously, she knew that Boonta was not the only planet this metal came from; there were six other worlds with varying levels of habitation in the Dernatine system which produced it. But she didn't have to say that, and neither did he.

"Boonta is also an easy world to search, even compared to Saarkane," Nerim argued, somewhat out of ignorance and somewhat out of deceit, but all based on relatively solid speculation. "It's mostly barren desert, and rather flat. Almost the entire population can be found in a handful of population centers. Once we get there, it should be no problem to locate them."

As Nerim continued, Arwain's expression only got more suspicious, but Irmat's face lit up with golden lines and circles of happiness. "Fantastic! It should be no problem to extradite them, then—"

"There's an issue with that," Nerim raised a hand and interrupted him. "A few issues of practicality, actually."

"The first," Arwain said in a chastising tone, "Is that we are not members of the Jedi Order."

"Ah," Irmat nodded. "Right. Arwain informed me of your expulsion. Then I will have to inform the Order myself?"

"You could," Tetha cautioned, "But it's not as reliable of an option as you might think. The Order is currently heavily preoccupied, and moreover, Boonta is not a Republic world, making them far more limited in their potential actions. Extradition is far out of the question."

Jianno slowly nodded. "Boonta is in an odd situation, legally. During the Mandalorian Wars, my people conquered it from the Hutts. It broke free, under independent rulers for a time, and then the Sith conquered it during the New Sith Wars. After that, the Army Of Light conquered it, but when they were disbanded, it was unclear who it would 'return' to."

"Right..." Arwain said, her suspicion transforming into calculation. "It's currently technically an independent zone, operated in trust as a buffer between the Republic and Hutt Space. If the Republic kicked up trouble there, it could spell a great deal of instability between them. The Hutts are ever paranoid of their empire shrinking even more than it already has over the last several millennia."

In truth, Nerim seriously doubted this would actually persuade the Jedi not to at least investigate Boonta. As cautious as they wanted to be, this was still the clearest lead they had to finding the cause of Fae's death, and there would certainly be a number of Sentinels ready to descend upon the planet in record time. But Irmat...

Irmat drummed the table with his fingers, his yellow eyes darting across the durasteel surface in thought. "Damn," he finally said. "I need this solved. Both the connection to the corporations, and Fae Coven. I need to be able to put a bow on it, stand in front of the people, and say there, we struck back."

Nerim nodded. "Well, as my Master outlined, we are not members of the Jedi Order. Boonta is technically an independent polity, and as such, their legal system is significantly less...compelling."

Jianno clenched her hand into a fist, the metal of her gauntlet groaning. "Basically, we can do whatever we want, leave, and dare them to try and follow us," she said in a tone as hard as iron. He could tell she was already on track with what he was thinking.

Irmat stared at them for a long moment, and then slowly nodded. "You want payment," he said, cold and blunt about it. Now everything made sense to him.

"And fire support," Tetha said, her mouth curled into a slight smirk. "I understand Saarkane to have quite the capable System Defense Force. We could use that on Boonta"

His eyes were momentarily surrounded by white rings. "Surely, you can't expect me to use the state's military on Boonta. Even if we had independent control of our own military as an expeditionary force, I couldn't simply send it out on a whim."

"The System Defense Force-Trade Federation Special Dispensation Partnership Act, in conjunction with the Functional Constituency Autonomous Defense Bill," Nerim rattled off, pulling out his datapad and laying it on the table triumphantly.

"The what and the who?" Arwain asked, confused.

Irmat glared down at it, his mouth slowly beginning to hang open. Nerim continued. "Ever since the Cathar Incident, the Trade Federation has been struggling to ramp up production of trade protection ships. Aesha and I spoke about it a little while I was on Cathar, and I began reading the bills later. The Special Dispensation Act allows System Defense Forces to sell or lease out their military craft and even crew to the Trade Federation, in order to help meet demand during the sudden crisis."

Irmat pulled a flask from his jacket pocket and began to unscrew it. "You're insane..." He said, beginning to drink from it. "Absolutely goddamned stark raving lunatic spagozda mad..."

Nerim started pacing again. "The FCADB was passed years ago, when the Trade Federation Navy was larger than the government thought it needed to be and their command structure was more anemic. It was intended to let Functional Constituencies, which are usually far-flung or precarious populations, defend themselves effectively. It allows them to requisition military assets from the Trade Federation, to command and utilize themselves, to make up for the fact that they often don't qualify for a System Defense Force. Now this is where it gets interesting—"

It finally clicked for Arwain. "By the stars, Padawan, you can't be serious."

Nerim grinned and winked. "The Gran Protectorate of Malastare is one such Functional Constituency, and they have been known to requisition ships from the Trade Federation, only to then lease them out to mercenary ends themselves. Because the Gran Protectorate argues that it's an 'embattled minority'," he finger-quoted the phrase, "which represents Gran outside of conventional Republic space everywhere, they argue that these quasi-military forces can be used in self-defense against foreign adversaries without breaking the Ruusan Reformations. Bizarrely, the Republic has agreed to this interpretation, at least for now."

Irmat finished downing his flask, orange-ish green rivulets of color appearing to flow across his fur, a sign of significant stress. "So we rent our military to the Trade Federation, pay the Gran Protectorate to requisition it, and then pay them to send it to Boonta. We have a mercenary force that is under our control, and anything they do is the Gran Protectorate's responsibility, legally. At least on a state level."

"And after nearly a thousand years of successfully manipulating the Republic, they care more about profit than they fear blowback," Tetha added icily.

"What would you use this military force to do?" Irmat asked.

Nerim looked to Jianno and nodded. Jianno stared back at him from under her helmet, and then turned to Irmat. "I belong to Clan Jae'Narkraata. My People are currently held as slaves on Boonta. Roughly 600 of us. If you can provide the transport ships and special forces to storm a fat, ugly, independent Hutt's palace, I swear I will put Czerka on a pike and bring you as many Dark Jedi as you want."

Irmat shook his head. "This is crazy. You're asking me to essentially stage an invasion of a foreign world. Immediately after Fae Coven has died in my system! All eyes are already going to be on me, and you want me to carry out an invasion!"

"In response!" Nerim countered. "It's either that or all eyes will turn to you and see you doing nothing. And you know how Galactic politics works; if they see you doing nothing, they will assume you are doing something and you just can't afford to let them know it. They will presume you're corrupt, maybe even responsible for it all. Instead, you could be the strongest leader in the Republic, actively taking the fight to the doorstep of the ones responsible!"

"This is utter madness!" Irmat said, cradling his head in his hands, his fur beginning to flash multitudes of colors and patterns as he considered the scale of it all. "Things are already bad, but to ratchet up the temperature even more?"

Nerim leaned forward on the table, sternly meeting Irmat's eye. "Governor, I have seen your world, and I will be bluntly honest. It is not looking good. I know you're trying to portray yourself as a beacon of stability, but there is no stability. There is an active secessionist movement—one which your own wife holds sympathies for—and it is only going to grow. You were only barely holding onto approval, and your entire electoral claim is keeping the temperature low, but that is simply not an option anymore. The temperature is high and you need a radical change in strategy or you will be removed before your term is even up."

His fur began to stand on end, white and blue spikes of fear poking out from around his silhouette. "T-that...But there are worse outcomes than even that! The possibility for legal ramifications is...not to mention Hutt assassins!"

"Or!" Nerim stood back up. "Or, you could be the reasonable man who was driven to finally stand up for himself after a quarter century of living under an impassive and unresponsive Republic, who charged forward and solved the mystery of the Dark, beat back the megacorporations, and struck against an empire of slavery, during the pivotal moment when the Republic needed action the most! You could win over the Republic AND Saarkane!"

Irmat's eyes scanned him. "This is insane," he repeated.

"Stop being afraid of adversity!" Nerim brought his hands together and then spread out his arms in a gesture of grandness. "This is our opportunity!"

Irmat's eyes followed him. "This is our opportunity," he repeated. Then he blinked, and nodded. "I'll...I'll send out feelers to Malastare. I have to be sure every link won't fail before I decide what to do next..."

Jianno stepped forward with the heavy thunks of her boots and held out a hand. "We'll be waiting."

The Governor stood up, shook her hand, and then made to exit. Once he had gone down the loading ramp, and it retracted once more, Arwain turned to her Apprentice.

"This is uncharacteristically brash of you," she said distantly, looking him up and down.

Nerim gave his Master a shaky grin. "Well, y'know, when an opportunity comes, you always say yes, righ—"

He was cut off by a sudden crushing of his ribcage as Jianno threw her arms around him and picked him up in a bear hug. "Ori'mirdala ner vod! Vor'e! Vor entye!" She laughed.

Tetha crossed her arms, her face blank beyond the slightest tinge of a pout. "I helped," she said flatly.

When Nerim was let down and could finally breathe again, he smoothed out his tunic and moved over to the booth, sitting across from Arwain and letting out a sigh of relief. "It's not over yet. For all we know, one of the middlemen could just refuse and there'd be no Saarkanian aid at all."

"But the chance is so much more than nothing," Jianno said, grinning beneath her helmet.

Arwain carefully looked her student in the eye. "Nerim. Do you think this is a good idea?"

He gulped, not responding right away. "I have no idea," he admitted, "And it's probably not the wisest thing to pursue. It will lead to unpredictable trouble and danger, and there's no guarantee it will turn out well. If I don't pursue it, I lose nothing but an opportunity to recklessly change the status quo. I'm only even considering it because of my attachments."

She blinked, her expression thawing, gaining an aspect of curious worry. "So it's not something that a Jedi would do?"

"No," Nerim shook his head. "Not any Jedi from this era, anyways. A friend once told me I resemble a more anachronous, iconoclastic type of Jedi," he said, and Arwain couldn't help but smile at that.

"You're also part Mandalorian, by the look of things."

"And part Cathar," he replied, laughing. Then he looked down. "The Jedi...The Jedi are good. The Jedi way is good. But if the Jedi way contained all goodness, then there wouldn't be much of a point to anyone else existing, would there?" He asked, looking back up. "How sad would that be, if every other luminous being in this Galaxy was just...redundant?"

Arwain's expression changed, in surprise but also recognition, like she had just come across an old memory she hadn't thought about in quite some time. After a moment, she smiled. "Nerim," she said, reaching forward and grabbing his hand in hers, "This entire plan is completely idiotic."

He frowned. "Are you not on board?"

"Nerim," she laughed, "I am also an idiot."


________________________________________

After another hour or two of planning, Jianno stretched her neck and took a breath. "Alright. I've gotta stock up before anything else," she said, checking her weapons and then re-holstering them.

Nerim quite clearly felt the absence of both his lightsaber and his blaster pistol. "Probably a good idea for all of us," he nodded. Then he turned his attention to Arwain. "Master, you said you already had some business on this world, didn't you? What was it? I hope this doesn't disrupt your plans."

She smiled enigmatically. "Actually, I think you've managed to line up yet another thing quite well without knowing it. I'll be back in a few hours, as well," she said, standing up and slinging her satchel over her shoulders.

Jianno and Arwain both began moving towards the exit, and as they left the room Nerim turned to Tetha. "Well, what do you think?"

Tetha looked down at her clothes and sighed. "I think I need to finally get changed."

He chuckled. "I need new clothes too, I think. And a blaster."

She crossed her arms. "Not just a blaster, we could also use sabers. You wouldn't happen to know a place on this planet where we could get the parts?"

He thought for a moment, and then tilted his head back and laughed. "You know, actually..."

She snorted in amusement and walked out. "Let me get changed, and let's go."

Eventually she returned, wearing the same training outfit with a black double-breasted shirt made of smooth, quality dark fabric, and white pants tied at the ankle. He stood up and approached her, taking a closer look at the barely-visible burn mark on her shirt's shoulder.

"You still owe me for that," she teased.

"Watch it, I also still owe you for this," he quipped, pointing to his nose. She laughed, and they left together, going into the city.

The spaceport was decently well serviced, and they took a creaky rumbling street car into the city, where Tetha dragged him towards various street vendors and into various clothing shops to try and convince him that clothes didn't all have to be shades of brown and tan, to mixed success. From there, he lead a rather circuitous conversation with the Saarkanian merchant who had tipped him and Fae off about the Dark Siders in the first place, secured various components from the stall as well as other stores, and thanked whatever hidden gods of bureaucracy there might be that his stipend had already arrived in his account.

After a few hours of shopping, he sat down with Tetha on a streetcar as it was sandwiched in a narrow street between two great onyx towers, and began a quick last inventory. "Alright...We have our inerts, our crystal mounts, diatium energy cells, cyclers..." He silently mouthed the last several components as he tapped each with a fingertip. "I think that's everything we strictly need. Minus, y'know, a crystal in my case."

The streetcar squealed as it began moving again, and Tetha looked out the window. "Hm. I don't think we'll make it," she said, gesturing towards the sky. Everything had gotten quite dark, darker even than the time of evening would suggest. Nerim couldn't yet see lightning, but he could hear distant thunder.

He smiled. "I like rain. I have only good memories associated with it."

She chuckled. "I think our purchases might disagree."

Nerim pat the umbrella he had purchased from the Saarkanian girl, to replace the one he had lost at some point during the battles only a few days ago. "Well, I'm glad I got this, then."

Tetha looked down at it and then scowled back up at him. She thought they would make it, earlier. "You better share."

"I'll think about it," he said, and she elbowed him in the side. He enjoyed the ride, even as the rain began pouring down on the rickety contraption and the window beside him grew frigid cold. He watched the lights pass by and enjoyed the cool, damp snippets of wind that managed to sneak in through the cracks in the streetcar.

Tetha tiredly slouched in her seat and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Nerim, assuming any of us survive the whole Boonta thing...where do you plan on going afterwards?"

"I don't know. I've never been able to decide that for myself before," Nerim said pensively. "I don't like thinking about it."

"Why's that?"

He sighed. "Because there's no guarantee we all go to the same place. Jianno might want to go off with the Mandalorians while you might not. Arwain might want to run off to Korriban for who knows what reason. My entire life as a Padawan thus far has been splitting up with people and hoping we somehow come back together."

Tetha hooked her arm around Nerim's and closed her eyes. "Wherever we're going next, it just better have some real sunlight."

He chuckled, and they continued the rest of the ride in relative silence as the storm raged outside and Tetha napped on his shoulder. He enjoyed the calm, although he was slightly worried Tetha would become angry at him for unclear reasons once she woke up again. He looked at the fog beginning to collect on the windows, and listened to the Saarkanians shuffle around them. Without meaning to, he slipped into routine meditation.

As a Jedi, he was encouraged to have at least five meditation sessions a day—although this was always emphasized to be the bare minimum, and he was expected to do more. They were, according to the Masters, vital for his spiritual health. He supposed he was no longer under any expectation to perform these meditations, although that was itself confusing in retrospect. He was exiled for a perceived lack of spiritual health, and so was no longer expected to perform acts to improve his spiritual health? It baffled him to think what exactly the Jedi Order expected out of this new arrangement.

He turned his head and caught sight of his reflection in the window. What was he, exactly? He raised his hand up and brushed it against his bare cheek. Arwain had never spoke to him on the subject of Mirialan tattoos, which she bore, but he did not. Now that he wasn't a Jedi, was he a...Mirialan? Should he start learning his species' culture? The notion sounded silly to him.

Culturally, he was a Jedi. He had never been anything else. The life of a Jedi was so all-encompassing that it rivaled any other society or species—perhaps eclipsed them, in its intricacies and dedication. Other Jedi only retained a connection to their species on occasion, and usually as a form of harmless rebellion in their teenaged years, or as a result of the personalized education required for their unique anatomy, or as a form of training on learning how to blend in or better conduct diplomacy.

When Nerim was filling out his forms in the space port, he had to write down a number of data points about himself. Species, Mirialan. Homeworld, Coruscant. Last name, Nerim. First name, N/A. Religion, Jedi.

He really wrote that down; Jedi. He wasn't quite sure why he bothered. He had just been exiled, after all. But...what else could he write down? He could have written none, but he wasn't a none, he wasn't nothing in that regard. He wasn't in the market for a new religion, either.

Eventually, the line came to an end outside the spaceport, and Nerim gently woke up Tetha. The short walk from the streetcar to the entrance was still through a solid enough wall of rain that they both got wet, prioritizing their purchases for space under the umbrella. They were struck a second time entering the landing zone of the Lucky Worm, and quickly scrambled up the loading ramp half-soaked in freezing water.

Nerim shook off his umbrella, sending shadows cascading around him from the neon red light it emitted, and then was plunged into relative darkness as he retracted it. He took a deep breath, inhaling the spices and feeling the traces of rainwater flow down his face, and smiled. His mind briefly traveled back to the moment he burst into the doors of the diner on Raxus, and then he moved with Tetha to the main room.

Jianno and Arwain sat together at the booth, both working on something at the table. Jianno was disassembling and cleaning her blaster pistols at a speed that Nerim always found quite impressive, for a non-Force Sensitive. Meanwhile, Arwain was hunched over a...crushed lightsaber hilt, slowly extracting components from it, including a golden, softly glowing crystal.

He shook his head and looked again. He was not, in fact, seeing things. "Master!" He exclaimed.

"Oh, hello, Apprentice!" She said, looking up and smiling.

"Where did you get that?"

"It's a good story," she said, eyes closed and a smile on her face as she fondly reminisced. "But not for you."

"What?" He pouted. "What do you mean not for me?"

"Sorry, Padawan, but that one belongs to me alone!" She said, fiddling with a bit of insulation inside the hilt.

He sighed in frustration, while placing his bag of components on the counter along with Tetha. "Great. Now everyone has a natural crystal except for me."

Arwain looked up again, eyes narrowing as Tetha began retrieving lightsaber parts. "You two are making lightsabers? That's illegal, you know." Then she jumped. "Wait, Tetha has a natural crystal? When? How?"

"Huh," Nerim blinked. "So I can keep secrets from you."

"How?!" Arwain repeated.

"It's a good story," Nerim said, pointedly refusing to continue. Arwain's frown slowly deepened until she was downright giving him puppy eyes.

Tetha turned around and opened a cabinet near the floor, fumbling with it for a few moments of banging metal against metal, until she withdrew a contraption. It looked like an oven, or perhaps a furnace, and was constructed of some sort of black iron. She hefted it up in both arms, carrying the heavy object until she could slam it down on floor in the middle of the room and take a breath of respite.

"What is this?" He asked, eyebrow raised and already a pretty good idea of where this was going.

Tetha gave him a small, confident smile. "Geological compressor. Darth Machina taught me how to use them, but I didn't get the process down until much later."

He frowned. "Ah. So you're saying I actually should start tapping into the Sith ways? Not just as a joke?"

"Are you a Sith?"

He thought for a moment, his eyes growing distant in recollection. Then he shook his head. "No. I don't think I would make a good Sith."

"Then it won't be a Sith thing when you do it," she pointed out.

He laughed. Arwain sarcastically nodded. "She makes a good point, Padawan. That logic has never failed anyone before. I'd estimate it was only a contributing factor in about sixty percent of fallen Jedi."

"Like you're one to talk," Nerim scoffed. "You used lightning!"

"Emerald lightning!" She responded defensively.

"Anyways, I actually can't be a fallen Jedi," Nerim argued. "I've already been exiled. Technically that means I'm immune to falling."

"Nerim," Arwain sighed with amusement, "We really have to have a talk about your use of the word 'technically' sometime."

"Listen," Tetha said, putting a hand on his shoulder and pushing for him to sit down next to her on the floor, the both of them cross-legged. "You gave me a natural crystal. Consciously or not, you've already begun teaching me in the Jedi way. The least I can do is reciprocate. I want to know how you learned the Force, and...And I want you to know how I learned it. It's..." she suddenly broke eye contact and looked away. Quietly, she said under her breath, "It's romantic. Do it, or I'll be angry."

Slowly, he smiled. Shaking his head and laughing, he relented. "Okay, fine. Teach me how to be a Sith, against my will. It's not like I consented to being a Jedi, either." She grinned at him, her nose wrinkling and her eyes sparkling in a way that made him immediately lean in and peck her on the lips before his inhibitions could activate. When he pulled back, he noticed her cheeks had gone red. Her eyes flicked towards Jianno and Arwain, to gauge their possible judgment, but neither was looking their way.

"Right," she began, retaining her composure regardless, back straight and face neutral despite the flush, "First thing's first. How much did the Jedi teach you about synthetic crystals?"

He shrugged. "That they were stupid and morally repugnant. They did not tend to give Initiates any information whatsoever on Dark Siders."

"Of course," Tetha pursed her lips. "Synthetic crystals, according to my old Master, are stronger than natural ones. It's said that in a confrontation, they can even break the blades of natural lightsabers."

"Is that so?" Nerim asked, amused. "I've always heard the opposite."

"Jedi and Sith sources disagree on this," Arwain said wearily. "It's become something of a male appendage measuring contest over the last ten thousand years. The fact is, if a blade break ever happens, the one whose blade is broken is never going to come back and report it. So either side will only ever hear of their own superiority."

"I imagine that blade breaking tends to have more to do with the other components of the lightsaber, and the person wielding it," Tetha nodded, "But Machina admitted as much. Really, according to him, the main benefit is that synthetic crystals can handle higher energetic states, and so they can support overtuned lightsabers."

"Like the one you had?"

"Yes. It's a pretty dangerous process, though, and it makes the lightsaber less reliable. I made mine that way because I figured if I ever had to pull a lightsaber, I needed that battle to be done as fast as possible, so sustainability mattered less to me than a quick victory," she explained.

He frowned. "Very Sith. You can't do that with your natural crystal."

She smiled apologetically. "Regardless, synthetic crystals are important in religious aspects, also."

"Really?" He tilted his head. "I thought they just used them because they had to. During the wars, Jedi occupied the majority of natural crystal caves."

"That's how it started," she confirmed, "But Darth Machina explained that over time, the Sith came to believe that synthetic crystals were more appropriate. Rather than changing both yourself and a natural crystal to align into one being, it was thought that by creating a crystal from disconnected atoms and forging it personally into a weapon of your own, it would both better suit you and preserve your own spiritual purity."

He laughed. "I never imagined a Sith would say a phrase like spiritual purity."

"You would be surprised," Arwain warned. "Don't mistake the Sith Order for a ruthless, pragmatist ideology. It is a religion, just as deeply held in conviction as the Jedi. Historically, there has always been something of a fallacy that overemphasizes the capabilities and reasonability of the Sith, and this has been the cause of quite some damage to the Galaxy, from making it easier to convince people to join them, to making it easier for them to catch us off-guard with moves of sheer idiocy and zealotry."

"And Darth Machina told me he was one of the least dogmatic of the Sith," Tetha shook her head.

Nerim looked over to the furnace and placed a hand against the rough surface. "So what is the process like, exactly?"

"Generally, you just dump the requisite materials in, and light it up. Once it's started, you will need to spend time meditating on it, and telekinetically aligning the crystalline structure yourself."

"Oh, great," he rolled his eyes, "Telekinesis."

"And I warn you," she raised a hand, "It will take a while. I had to maintain a trance for 48 hours to finally make my first successful crystal."

He sighed wearily. "Well, I suppose that is easier than sneaking onto Ilum."

A spark jumped up from the table and hit Arwain in the nose, causing her to flinch and then sneeze. She looked over to Nerim with some concern. "Apprentice, I'm not entirely opposed to you forging a crystal, or learning about the Sith, but putting Sith lessons into practice is a dangerous game. I ask that you remain cautious."

"The Sith weren't the only ones who taught me about geological compressors," Tetha smiled. She opened a compartment of the furnace and retrieved what appeared to be a bracelet, made up of large beads that resembled jade. "The Nature Priests actually gave me a far greater insight. Darth Machina didn't care one bit about replicating natural conditions, he was just focused on the results. The Ithorians, on the other hand, gave me a greater understanding of the process...and therefore, how to alter it. It was only then that I succeeded."

"Oh," Arwain blinked, suddenly forgetting her own lightsaber and leaning forward. "Interesting..."

Nerim watched as Tetha slid the bracelet on, and smiled. "Pretty."

"They're more than pretty!" She said, somewhat offended and flattered at the same time. "Ithorian Viridite has a great number of uses. It's also easier to make than lightsaber crystals. We should start with it, instead, so you can understand the process before having to apply so much Force to it. And...While it's cooking, you can teach me about the Jedi method," she said, gently smiling.

"I'm gonna kriffin' puke," Jianno said.

Arwain frowned. "Sorry, you must feel left out. Oh! Do you want me to construct a lightsaber for you, too?" She offered excitedly.

Jianno reared back, horrified. "That's disgusting. No Mandalorian would ever wield something like that."

Arwain sighed and rested her chin on her hand. "Yeah, it'd never work."