"Well of course not, being confined to a bacta tank and all..." Erin said to Vor'loch, her ever-so-slight smile indicating that she didn't mean it in an offensive manner or anything. Joking wasn't her strong suit, and she didn't know exactly what other Jedi took as humor. Master Sabalya wasn't so serious, leading young Erin to believe it was alright... Maybe she'd just spent too little time talking to others, and far too much time training. The girl looked at Jerek questioningly - only now did it occur to her that she only caught the tail end of what the others were talking about. Her new messy-haired pal here took her attention aw- ...okay, she wasn't even listening in the first place! It's not like she could blame her poor 'downtime attention span' on Jerek.

"Well, so far I've heard that we're going to Nar'Shaddaa..." Erin started, her eyes rolling back to Vor'loch, then to Jerek again as she waited for his own input.

"...however before we do that I feel I must ask do you feel ready to become padawans?"

Pada--what did she just say?

As the temple guard removed her mark, revealing the Cathar Jedi within, the two younglings were at once entranced at the notion that her question planted in their minds. Although, for vastly different reasons.

For the young Nautolan, the question sparked immediate doubt. He should have wanted to say yes, but he didn't. More over, he couldn't. There was so much he saw others do that was worlds beyond anything he'd experienced in the Force. Only when in motion was he at peace. Only when a lightsaber burned in his hand did he see clearly. During the escape from the Temple, Zak had been terrified. And, yet, in that rain of blaster fire he had never known anything as tranquil as what he'd experienced then. Dancing on the edge of death, with his sword as a partner, responding to the way he moved.

"Yes."

Blinking, confused, Zak looked over at the Anzati who had spoken. It made sense that Sor-Jan would say that. He was practically bored at the Jedi Academy. The black-haired youngling had been on the Grand Master's List more times than anyone in their clan. What he lacked in finesse at physical trials, SJ more than made up for with his beautiful mind.

Zak would think SJ arrogant, but for the fact that Sor-Jan was exactly the Jedi that the Nautolan wished he could be. Tranquil. Meditative. SJ made the Force look like it was easy.

"SJ's definitely ready," the Nautolan affirmed humbly, opting to admit to his own faults and praise where others had overcome them. So what about him? The swirls in his dark eyes shifted several times, as the boy's focus turned inward, and soon after found his eyes downcast along the floor. "I..." Zak began, as the Nautolan thought again about a dream to be a great Jedi Guardian and swordsman. Like Master Windu. Just like Master Windu. And, in that moment, realized how short of his dream that he fell. "I don't think..."

"He's not ready."

After having spared the other boy a compliment, Zak's head turned up with a look of horror at the words that Sor-Jan had uttered, smugly twisting the proverbial knife as the Anzati turned his eyes away from the Cathar woman to look at the Nautolan with a gaze like Zak had never seen before.

Sor-Jan was looking down on him.

"He can barely levitate a rock," the Anzati stated, a tone in his voice somewhere between contempt and outright laughter. And, with that, the Anzat turned his head away. As though Zak were no longer of any importance.

As Zak's heart started racing, the Nautolan felt his cheeks burn as a rush of blood surged to his head. "At least I can hold a lightsaber," the youngling retorted sharply.

The near human boy calmly turned back toward the amphibian youngling. "I don't need to hold a lightsaber," Sor-Jan stated placidly, a smug look on his face as though he'd already delivered the punchline to the galaxy's funniest joke. "I can just do this," the youngling explained.

Before Knight Deja could have prevented it, the young Anzati gave a subtle, quick wave of one hand. And, in that moment, Zak went flying backward into the corridor wall.

Kolinn listened to the Guard reply to her. This man may not have been a Master, but he obviously knew what he was talking about. She was especially taken aback by the fact that he hadn't called her a fool... No matter how long it had been since she was a part of the Sisterhood, she still expected everyone to teach her as such. "Thank you, and I apologize again." She bowed before walking away from him. Slumping down in a corner, she let out a long exhale. She then took out of her jacket the small Holocron she had received. Appearing from it in a glow of bloody red light was a Zabrak teen with grey skin, long horns and neon-blue Sith face-paint appeared.

"Sister, I heard you betrayed us all... Not that it matters now... The Great Mother is dead... Of our brothers and sisters, I can only find rotting corpses. The light side of the force saved you for a reason... Perhaps it does serve some purpose." He then sighed. "I know that, with your being a Jedi now, you have no intention of listening to this, but... I might need your assistance... The droids have killed everything they could find. I haven't seen one for over 2 weeks now, so I assume they have left. I am now the only dangerous thing on this whole damn planet. I do miss you... And..." He looked around "May the force be with you..." he then hung his head "Great mother is turning in her grave..." it then ended and she smiled a little.

Deja could have expected as much from Sor-Jan, she could feel his pride in him, that he was ready and better than his companion. Pride was a dangerous thing for a Jedi to have, very dangerous. Zak had given a more unsure answer, he felt he was unready, but it wasn't due to being afraid, but was more a humble and honest tone. Deja however could not break up the argument that was about to erupt between the two fast enough. Before she could act Sor-Jan force pushed Zak into the corridor wall. She stood up and clipped her mask to her side. "Enough, attacking your fellow companion is not the Jedi way. I may have believed you were ready had you not acted in such a way, but now I sense that it is merely over-confidence." Deja was a very sweet and gentle creature, but she wouldn't hesitate to be firm with others... She moved over to Zak and helped him up, no doubt Sor-Jan would think she was babying him, but whatever he thought did not matter, behavior such as his was to be disregarded.

"You two sit down and cooperate, it is lesson time for the both of you." She used the force to call three crates to them from the adjacent cargo hold where the boys had been playing. Taking a seat she took out a holopad and placed it on the floor before them. There was a great Cathar Jedi Master, muscular, handsome, tall, he had it all. He walked with his held high by thousands of soldiers. "Long ago there was a Great Jedi Master. He was one of the strongest in the Force, almost rivaling Grand Master Yoda. He lived the life of a Guardian, but held the power of a Consular. He had fought in many wars and battles, wherever he went victory followed. He thought himself invincible in battle and became arrogant, prideful, and over-confident as time went on. He became reckless, wavering ever so slowly from the Jedi Path."

The hologram shifted showing him destroying entire armies with a single wave of his hand, the figure Cathar stood atop millions of bodies and droids, his cape blowing in the wind. It changed to show him sitting on a thrown surrounded by his guards and citizens, rejoicing and partaking in merrymaking. "He secretly came to rule his own planet and spent much time there, fathering many children. However he had made many enemies along his journeys and bounty hunters came from all around to claim it. All failed and he even began to encourage the strongest fighters to come challenge him, promising them all his riches if they defeated him. One day a humble man covered in a cloak came into his court seeking his challenge. The Jedi Master laughed as did his court, and tried to turn the man away, but he would not have it." The hologram showed a dark figure and the Jedi trying to send him away, but after many tries the Jedi prepared for battle, he used the force to send a shockwave at the figure, but the figure stood strong and it merely blew his cloak away to reveal a Mandalorian. The Jedi was surprised but feared nothing.

The Jedi sent attack after attack, but the man did not move. Pulling a beskar blade from his shealth and charged the Jedi. His blade clashed with the Jedi's lightsaber and after a long and tedious battle, the Jedi fell to his knees, his sword skills weak compared to his opponent. "The Jedi begged to know his opponents secret, but the Mandalorian left without another word, without his reward, or the bounty. The Jedi learned the error of his ways, returned to the Temple more Humble than ever, with his new found wisdom." The hologram disappeared and Deja put it away. "That Jedi was my great grandfather, he passed this story on to his children and others at the Temple so that others could learn the wisdom he did without following the same path." She did not know if the lesson would sink into the younglings heads, but only hoped it would.

"A Jedi must train in the Force and his Lightsaber, A Jedi you cannot be without the other. Never know when you may be caught in a situation without your Lightsaber or not able to use the Force. You two have much to learn before coming full Jedi, but if there is one lesson you must learn it is to be humble, do not be over-confident in your abilities Sor-Jan and don't be quick to put down others for the same will be done to you." Deja said with a smile as she used the Force slightly and tipped him backwards off the crate.

She stood up and put her hands behind her back. "While I do not feel I should assign you a Master after such behavior, I will go against my own wishes. You will be assigned to Master Kratyan, congratulations Padawan Sor-Jan." She bowed to the young one as a sign of respect and to congradulate the youngling. Turning towards Zak she looked at him with a smile. "You may not feel ready, but I have faith you are. When I was young I was weak in the Force and a talented swordswoman. I soon blossomed into one of the Order's finest Jedi Sentinel. If you truly wish to stay where you are then that is fine. We will continue your training all the same, eventually transitioning into Padawan."

"You will be assigned to Master Kratyan, congratulations Padawan Sor-Jan."

Despite the lesson, or perhaps inspite of it, the words immediately lit a smile upon the young Anzati's face. His arrogance was not so summarily dismissed, particularly not when it was so well rewarded as it had been now. It was an invitation to grow more powerful. And if events of the last several days had taught the Anzati anything, it was the value of power. Kraytan, the Jedi he was to be apprenticed to, had endured blaster bolts raining down on his body. To channel that kind of energy, that was power. Real power. And a mystery, one that the youngling was very much interested in unraveling.

As the Cathar sentinel turned her attention to the young Nautolan, Zak merely inclined his head. "As you wish, Master," the boy answered obediently. A rote response, generated through repetition and expectation rather than honest regard for her words. Zak still felt uncertain of himself. But one thing was certain, he hoped to have a different teacher than Sor-Jan.

His Anzati friend seemed different now. Zak wasn't certain just what or how, but he didn't like it.

As Jerek stood before the tank in which his master hung, suspended in the glowing haze of the healing bacta, the youth realized that he had no answer to his master's question. No way to alleviate his disconnect from the other Jedi. Erin, on the other hand, seemed to answer with expert ease, joking lightly with the Noghri Jedi.

Erin sure has a nice voice. The thought popped suddenly into the boy's head as he listened to the cadence of the other padawan's voice, finding himself lost in the older girl's tones. Blinking furiously, the boy forced himself to focus, to listen as Erin filled in his master on the plans to travel to Nar Shaddaa.

The padawan considered his companion's report with a curious expression. From his studies and rumors, Jerek knew that Nar Shaddaa was a place of shadows and risk. If Coruscant was a place of reason and law, then Nar Shaddaa was the opposite, ruled by fear and power. Few on the so-called Smuggler's Moon were friends to the ways of the Jedi or the Republic, if the ideals of the defunct government truly had any supporters left. After a moment's consideration, the sandy-haired youth could see the reason to travel there, the same reasons that made Nar Shaddaa a dangerous place would make it ideal for fugitives like the Jedi. A place to regroup, to breathe, to heal.

He felt the eyes of the room's occupants fall on him, the expectation clear. He was supposed to give Vor'loch a clue of what the Jedi had been missing, a taste of life outside his tank. It should have been an exciting tale, some virtuous exploits that the padawan had accomplished all by himself, that his master had missed out on. It should have been like old times, as master and apprentice after a mission to one of the many worlds ravaged by the Clone Wars. This time, however, Jerek had no story, no adventure.

"Not much," the youth mentioned, shrugging his slender shoulders. He glanced toward the older padawan, hoping she might have something more to say, only to find the same expression on her face. "We've been doing the meditations, and some exercises. Actually, a lot of exercises. I think the masters want us to think everything is normal, even though it's not."

Turning back to his Noghri master, the padawan questioned him eagerly, "How much longer will you have to stay in the bacta tank, master?"

-Jacen-

Jacen sat in the seat and indicated to the co-pilot seat. "Lay in our course then Master Jedi. Then we just need to sit back and relax, while you guys find a change of clothes or even make some new ones. As going around dressed like that is going to draw even more attention than this ship. YOu have a few personal CR-25s flying around though I can't say I've ever seen people just randomly dressed as Jedi with lightsabers."

-Vor'loch-

"I doubt things will be quite normal ever again for the Jedi Order. We must remember that we are the last beacons of light who also have the ability to wield the Force. I should be out of here in a couple of days and be able to resume my duties a couple of days after that. I shall resume your training to ensure that you can effectively blend in and use a blaster. Your lightsaber is now a weapon to be used in only the most troublesome of situations and as a last resort. If you can avoid using it, do so. We do not wish to attract attention. Now, you must both go find another pair of clothes that are slightly more incognito than your Jedi robes. We must blend in with everyone else now, the Force must only be used on board this vessel and not off it at all unless allowed to by a master." He turned slightly in his tank looking at the other padawan. "I am sorry that your master did not make it and I would offer to fulfill your training if you wish to fall down the Guardian Path. I am afraid I cannot really assist in much of the Consular aspects purely upon my own training."

Kolinn sat in the corner as she had done, putting the holocron back in her robes before burying her head in her knees... Everyone was being seen to but her, she knew that, as a Jedi, she shouldn't want people to pay attention to her, but she was sentient, she couldn't help but want it. If anything, she was suffering the least. She had emotional detatchment from them, her masters death wasn't confirmed, but implied, these people had just lost everyone they had ever known, she had already suffered that and learned to cope with it... Maybe she was cursed, perhaps whoever she was around were destined to die horribly.

"Don't think like that..." said a voice. She looked around, she knew that voice. She looked next to her to see the blue outline of a Iktotchi. She looked up.

"Master Jonni!!!" she jumped to her feet. "You're... Alive?" she was rather stumped by this. He was back... But he was blue. "Why..."

"I'm not alive... Unfortunately, you're wearing the last shred of my mortal remains." he said, pointing to the robe she had on around her. She looked at them.

"Oh... Sorry..."

"No, it's rather comforting... Several of us were derobed and had those clones dress up as us. Luckily, Master's Yoda and Obi-Wan took care of them."

"They're still alive?" she asked, her face lighting up, If they were alive, then there was a chance to undo all of this. Master Yoda would know exactly what to do.

"As far as I am aware, they have not become one with the force, yet... But then again, neither have I." She looked his ghostly visage up and down.

"So... What are you?" she asked.

"I am... Not entirely sure, when I died... I saw a bright light, the force was calling me to it... But I told it that I had one last thing to do. So, it sent me back here. I need to let you know that you are not alone, you are not evil... You are strong." he said. "And I need to direct you to someone that can help you... Being so close to the force, I was able to see the future, as we could before the Dark side clouded our vision... I could only see glimpses, but when you arrive on Nar-Shadaa, seek out a pair of Mercenaries, a Talortai and a human boy. They will lead you to your next master, he will not be everything you expect, but he will train you as you need to be." He smiled at her.

"Well... Why not come to Nar Shadaa with us? If you can see the future, then your help will be invaluable." she said. trying to grasp his hand, but her hand merely passing straight through his.

"It is not as simple as that. None of my visions showed me." He then looked up "My time is short."

"But... You said you only saw glimpses... What if-" but he put his ghostly finger to her lips

"You will understand in time... I really do wish I could, but it simply cannot be done... May the force be with you." he said, turning around, he began walking away "It will be with you... Always." as he walked down the corridor, she broke down onto her knees as his blue visage faded from existence. She sniffled back a long trail of snot that had slowly started leaking from her nose, before slowly walking down the corridor towards the cockpit, pressing the door release, she stepped through and didn't look at anyone, instead, just staring out of the viewscreen, her grey skin an unusually pale colour.

"I... I just saw Master Jonni..." she muttered.

Alaric felt... hollow, in a sense, after the initial excitement of their escape from the temple had worn off. After assisting in the relocation of the injured, and the treatment of a few, he had retreated from the company of his fellow Jedi. He made his way through the craft, seeking out the most secluded spot he could, before hiding himself away there ,suppressing his feelings and struggling to come to terms with all that had transpired over the past few days.

After the first few hours, he had lost his mind. Flew into a rage not uncharacteristic for one of his race. He flailed and thrashed and screamed until he was apprehended by troopers, who only left him alone after he had screamed his throat raw, and sank into a corner, exhausted.

Alaric declined any offers of assistance or shoulders to cry on. Nothing was as it should have been, and it would never be so for him again, he felt.

He looked at his lightsaber, contemplated whether or not he should continue to carry it, and ultimately decided that he would. It would not be with the intention of drawing it, but as a reminder to himself. So, he removed his tunic, wrapped it around his lightsaber hilt, and secured it to his belt, laying it horizontally at the back, next to a pouch that typically contained field rations for long missions.

When he finally emerged from his seclusion, the feeorin padawan looked drained. His eyes were dark, his skin had paled in color, and his cheeks had grown gaunt. He gave off a somewhat cold feeling, and said little. He did not acknowledge or allude to his earlier tantrum ,and no one brought it up. But he could tell when someone knew about it, from the space that was given to him when they passed him in the passageways.

Well... Master would agree that I could probably have handled that better... He thought grimly, seeking the company of his allies for the first time since departing the LAAT.He decided to check on the noghri, Vor'loch, first, as he was one of the more seriously injured Jedi he had seen to aboard the transport.

When he found the man, he was already being attended by others. Alaric hovered by the door, cast his eyes to the deck, and waited for the others to finish with their conversation.

Erin scratched her cheek nervously at the Noghri's offer to continue her training... As far as she knew, Vor'loch was no master in the Jar'kai 'dual-wielding' style like her deceased master was. Still, what mattered was his status as a superior in lightsaber combat. It's not like he became a Jedi Knight without having exceptional skills.

"Don't worry about it, I've already come to terms with Master Sabalya's death... He wouldn't want me to mourn or anything, I'm sure he'd tell me to quit being such a boring child and that life is for living..." Erin chuckled at remembering how Aldeo lacked the deadly seriousness that made so many Jedi who they were. She looked to the floor as she thought about the offer, before turning her gaze back to him and nodding, "Alright, Vor'loch. As long as you don't mind it, I'd very much like to be 'Padawan #2' as it were..." The girl grinned, visibly and audibly more at ease being with the other Jedi now she'd spoken with them a little.

As she finished, Erin glanced back to see who had stopped outside the room. The Feeorin Jedi wasn't doing anything but standing there, staring at the metallic floor. Erin couldn't help but wonder what was bothering him, ...uh, besides the obvious.

"...Hey, why so shy? Come join us. It's Alaric, right?" Erin raised her voice over at their silent comrade.

"It is," Alaric said, stepping forward and nodding to the girl humbly. "And you are Erin, and you are Jerek, correct? I apologize for interrupting, but I had hoped to check on Master Vor'loch."

Continuing his movement into the room, Alaric looked the noghri up and down, finding him to be in much better condition than most men would be, if they were to suffer from similar injuries. All things considered, the man looked good. The tank was clearly doing its job.

"I won't lie to you, Master Vor'loch..." He continued, checking on the recovering Jedi from every available angle. "Even if you hadn't been hit with that shrapnel, I wouldn't have expected you to survive the flight from the temple. Your injuries clearly defined your level of triage, and a more... objective medic wouldn't have bothered removing the shrapnel at all."

Alaric continued to pace about the ward, avoiding eye contact as much as possible. He didn't want to see the almost inevitable expressions of disgust or horror coming from his fellow padawans. But he needed to get the confession over with.

"You may very well owe Jerek your life, Master. I must admit that it was only a desire to avoid the weight of another grieving child on my conscience that I treated you so thoroughly. Please understand that I am not without empathy, but I wanted you to know how close you were to death. I hope that you hold that knowledge with you, so that you may better appreciate the life you have left."

The feeorin Jedi finally made eye contact with Vor'loch, and he offered an uncharacteristic smile, worn as it may have looked.

"Call it a silver lining. Nothing quite like a near-death-experience to give one a better appreciation for each day that follows."

Vor'loch chuckled. "When I was a Padawan I was nearly ripped apart by Gundarks. If I did not survive this I would have been severely disappointed in myself. I also believe that it is also part of your good nature that helped save my life, as the nature of everyone else here. It is only a shame about your master however I am sure someone will be likely to take you under their wing, I would however I feel that these two-" He indicated at the two outside of the tank "-will be as much as I personally can handle." He grabbed the lever to remove the bacta from the tank and yanked it and felt himself become heavier as the liquid substance drained. Then opening the seal in the top he grabbed a pair of robes nad lifted it in the top before donning them with speed. Noghri were always agile and fast, his ability in the force only assisted in that manner. He flexed his muscles from inside the tank before jumping up, balancing on the edge with less grace than usual and them jumping down. Staying crouched for a couple of seconds to allow his muscles to get used to themselves again before standing up.

"Anyway, We must find ourselves some more discreet garments if we are to continue to do anything. These robes will make us stick out like Hutts in a field of Jawas."

Jerek was awestruck by the Feeorin boy's confession. For the first time, he realized how his actions must look to the other Jedi, the strong attachment he felt towards his Noghri master and his inability to let go. Attachment seemed like such a simple idea, easy to control in the presence of the Jedi Masters at the temple. It was a thought exercise, a scenario that youngling-Jerek believed he could simply overcome. Yet here he was, now a witness to the realities of death, and the reality was that he had failed to keep his emotions in check. His master was alive because of him, because the youth could not follow the Jedi Code.

The sandy-haired padawan could hardly bring himself to look at his fellow Jedi. Turning to the blue-skinned padawan, Jerek nodded in a respectful manner. His voice was flat as he spoke the expected formalities, a motion the boy would hide the shame he felt right now. "I thank you, Alaric, for your great skill. I appreciate your treating my master."

As the hazel-eyed boy stood, he caught a glimpse of Vor'loch emerging from the now-drained bacta tank. He looked on in wonder at the miracle standing before him. What once was nearly dead now lived, healthy and well as could be expected. In an instant, Jerek's shame lay forgotten on the med bay floor, discarded and useless like a piece of dust. In spite of the presence of his fellow padawans, Jerek rushed forward, initially by instinct but then with the full force of consciousness behind him. The youth moved to embrace his master, wrapping his skinny arms around the Noghri's massive trunk.

Quickly, adolescent propriety took over, and the boy stepped back with a sheepish expression, his cheeks burning. Composing himself, the apprentice bowed deeply to his master, his eyes downcast to the floor once more as he stood, "I am pleased to see you on your feet once again, Master."

Still embarrassed from the spectacle he had made of himself, Jerek stayed drew quiet, forming up in a position to follow his master and the others to find a change of clothing for their excursion.

The young Nautolan got a welcome respite away from the Anzati when the youngling padawan had gone to see the protocol droid about a change of clothing. All the while discussing different options for what he could do for a padawan braid. It was obviously something Sor-Jan put a great deal of thought into, making it somewhat starkly contrasting for Zak to realize just how little thought he'd put into his own advancement. He'd been Jedi for as long as he could remember. Growing up in the temple. Learning their ways. Committing their traditions to memory. He knew that he would have to prove himself in the youngling trials sooner or later, but it had never been about that.

Zak didn't wear Jedi robes. He knew some aquatic Jedi did, such as Master Fisto, but the loose, flowing fabric garments weren't intended for wear underwater. Instead, he wore Mon Cal, Quarren, or Nautolan tunics which were made of a water-repellant leather and sleeveless, so to leave the arms free for swimming. This allowed him the freedom to move between land and water without need to change clothes. A broad belt cinched the simple garment at the waist, from which the training lightsaber hung. That is, until his hand moved up to touch it.

The cylinder was cool to the touch. The metal inviting, as the crystal inside seemed to bait his subconscious mind. He was like an addict cradling a favorite drug. The presence of the lightsaber was reassuring, and yet, simply touching it was not enough to satisfy the need that he felt. Before he'd even been aware of what he'd done, the training saber was unclipped and held in his hand.

It's weight felt good. Good in a way that was numbing to the concerns and anxieties that he had been feeling. As he twirled the metal cylinder in his hand, all doubt seemed to melt away.

He just wanted to serve. Youngling, padawan... The titles weren't important to him.

With a distinctive snap the lightsaber was brought to life. The vibrant blue blade reflected in the black eyes of the aquatic youth. The training device sang out in song as the youth idly spun the blade, letting one motion flow naturally into a second, as the speed and intensity of the sound building in the air gradually grew into a masterpiece crescendo.

Maybe that was why Sor-Jan's attitude bothered him. A title was something so trivial, but being a padawan obviously meant so much to Sor-Jan. It was an honor to be a padawan, but a padawan's place was still to learn and to serve. That wasn't much different from the Jedi initiate, except now Sor-Jan would have a personal tutor. So why didn't Zak feel the same?

Except all of the teachers were dead, weren't they? So, even as a youngling, Zak would still need to attention of a particular Jedi to learn. There wasn't a clan. There was only Zak now. So he supposed he was a padawan without the title, because there was no one else to teach him and no one else to be taught.

So if he was a padawan by default, did that make it mean any more? Did it mean any less?

Throwing the live blade behind his back, the young swordsman nimbly caught the blade in his other hand and transitioned seamlessly into a Soresu guard, blending the guard into an orbit, and then letting the motion -- letting the emotion -- flow through his body as he let go and allowed the Force to shape his movements.

No, it still didn't matter. He just wanted to learn and to serve. Particularly now. The galaxy needed Jedi now more than ever.

Nar Shaddaa, also known as the Smuggler's Moon. The place to go with you wanted to, in theory, vanish. Many people came here to do just that and got caught by bounty hunters who knew to look here first. But those who weren't hunted and wanted to vanish would be able to do so easily here, and they could find work to help them stay vanished as well. Hence why Joshua Tamashii, former Jedi padawan, was enjoying himself in one of the planets cantinas.

Joshua looked around the crowded building, watching all manner of Aliens interact with each other, some talking, some drinking, some fighting, and some... enjoying more leisurely pursuits with the local 'entertainers'. Joshua himself though was paying close attention to those playing the game known as Sabacc. He had heard of the game and passive seen it played a few times but he had never really paid attention before and therefore didn't know the rules... yet. His plan was simple, play a game and see if he could get a starship out of it, even if he had to bet his krayt dragon pearl.

He had been about to get up and join a game when he felt a disturbance in the Force. Sadly it wasn't the warm, fuzzy kind of disturbance either. It was the kind that felt like death had just washed over him. That ruined his mood to join a game of Sabacc, so he stayed in his seat and ordered some water. After spending so much time on Tatooine he had grown to appreciate the liquid of life more then he had ever had before.

It was a little while after that the Force decided to send him another message, this time alerting him to the arrive of several force users. This got Joshua thinking, as the two disturbances were likely linked together. If that was the case he could probably follow the force users, who were likely Jedi, and see if he could find out what the heck was going on and why it had felt like so many had died a few hours before.

His course of action set, Joshua got up, and paid his tab before leaving the cantina, After making sure all three of his lightsabers were out of sight he headed in whatever direction the Force led him. Hopefully this didn't end up in his death... or being rediscovered by an organization he had abandoned years ago and likely wouldn't be very welcoming.

"Do not worry Mr. Jacen, I will make sure we shed our robes before heading into public. Part of a Jedi's training is to be able to blend with their surroundings." Kraytan said as he sat in the co-pilot seat and entered the coordinates for Nar Shadda. The stars began to stretch and turn to blue as they entered Hyperspace. As he got up from the seat Deja came into the cockpit.

"I have informed Sor-Jan that he is your new padawan. Zak will need a little more time before warming up to the idea of being a padawan himself." She was sporting a tan flight suit that was rather tight it seemed.

"Deja I am glad you found some other clothing, however I'm not sure if it will draw more or less attention." Kraytan said with a small chuckle. He placed a hand on her shoulder and walked out of the cockpit.

"I can't be the only pretty face on Nar Shadda." She said to him as he walked away, She took a seat in one of the co-pilot seats and looked at Jacen. "Not that I am trying to be pessimistic or anything, but do we have a backup plan incase things get a little messy on Nar Shadda?"

---

After scouring the ship for a it, Kraytan was able to find some old Phase I clone trooper armor that was pretty worn. With the help of some black and yellow paint he found and a few droids he was able to paint it black with yellow designs on it. He fashioned himself an eye patch, threw on a bandolier, holstered two DC-15s's. As he looked at himself in a mirror he was very pleased with the look, however something was still missing. He took his Jedi cloak and ripped it in half. He then fashioned it into a mini poncho with a hood. If anyone saw him now, they would figure him some bounty hunter who had scavenged his gear off dead clones, or maybe even ones he killed.

He had his way to the Bacta room where he had sensed that Vol'roch was on the move again. Entering the room he saw a few others already there. "Good to see you are up and moving again Vol'roch, I was worried that we hadn't gotten you into the Bacta in time."

"That's so cute, Jerek," Erin teased the younger padawan after he stepped away from Vor'loch, his cheeks glowing. Yep, now was the time to go get dressed up inconspicuously as a member of the galactic public. Anything would do, really. The young Jedi could only imagine any obvious robed Jedi getting vaporized on sight! Suddenly taking Jerek by the wrist, she began to pull her new pal away from the others and out of the medbay, "Let's go find you some other stuff to wear. Maybe we could work on a cover story, too. This might even be fun! What would two teenaged kids be doing running around on Nar'Shaddaa...?" she cheerfully chattered along.

Funnily enough, Erin had her own spare set of clothes to change into, ...or rather strip down to. A crimson dress decorated in gold trims and hems, with side cuts in both sides starting from her waist, which showed the sides of her legs (Chinese~!). Unfortunately for anyone who'd enjoy staring, she wore some tight-fitting black pants which she tucked into her boots. She could conceal her twin lightsabers under the dress easily enough, probably bring a blaster pistol along in a holster or something. She also kept her shoulder-length gloves, seeing as they went with the whole outfit already. Kid had a mind for fashion, despite being Jedi. "And that's that..."

As the brunette padawan finished buttoning up the shirt part of the dress, she emerged into the cargo bay of the CR-25 to wait for the others also heading planetside. Now she was coated with a nervous feeling, wondering how this little trip to the Smuggler's Moon would turn out rather than looking forward to the excitement.

"Calm yourself, Erin... Apparently, there is only peace - just relax." A familiar old man's voice broke through in her mind. A small smile curved on Erin's lips, and for a moment she just stood there staring at the ground with a cheerful grin.

...I wonder where Kolinn got to... And what's everyone gonna look like without robes on?

Jacen

"The Backup plan is that while you are gallivanting around on Nar Shadda I'm going to be out looking for other Jedi or perhaps clues on somewhere that is safe for you to hide out. I know a couple of places but I want to check them out first, some of them might be traps and we won't get shot on sight. Especially if there is some kind of force sensing something or other" He got up out of his seat after hitting several controls. "I'm going to find blasters for everyone."

Vor'loch

Vor'loch chuckled as the kids ran off and nodded at them. "It is things like that which makes living worth it and worth us going on in the Galaxy in order to bring light back to it. However I must change the clothes I am wearing in order to appear less conspicuous." He bowed. "If you will excuse me."

-Several Hours Later-

Vor'loch stood in his bantha hide outfit, making him look like a typical Noghri bodyguard as he stood in the cargohold with all the other Jedi. Many of them had been put in fancy outfits making him and Kraytan appear to be bodyguards for some kind of estranged family or group of people. He wasn't quite sure who they would pretend to be however that wasn't quite his skill, or at least not for large groups of people. He stood in a circle of the other Jedi occasionally flexing in order to get some kind of sensation back into his muscles. He waited before speaking. "I presume we are all ready, after being equipped by Jacen who has kindly given us blasters and clothing in order for us to blend in. I suggest that as we will be arriving soon we set up our assignments." He looked at the younglings. "I suppose it will be up to your respective masters whether or not you will accompany us or not." He looked around the other Jedi, his pride radiating in the Force.

Yes they were the last Jedi, but they had composed themselves excellently and he could think of people no better to be around.

Seeing nobody notice what she said, she simply shook her head, she wasn't even sure she had actually seen what she had seen. She looked at Jacen as he got out of his seat. "If you are..." she swallowed hard. "If you are going to the planet, I need to come with you. I... I had a vision that told of a Jedi on the planet." she said. "I don't know much, but I know that I can find this person."

Balkk Yarroq - 19 BBY, Nar Shaddaa

The Smugglers Moon. Dusty, polluted and inhabited by the lower edges of scum, it wasn't a place Balkk visited often, ironically. His rare dealings on the planet usually consisted of recieving payments or meeting with employers. He had never been fond of the planet, let alone the moon, and he suspected it wasn't fond of him either. Nar Shadda was a place someone could disappear in moments, if they wanted to. This made hunting prey harder. But it also made the prey less aware of the hunter. Three days he had travelled around the moon in his starfighter, checking different areas and gathering information. So far, no leads had matched.

His target was an exiled Human Jedi who went by the name of Joshua Tamashii. The Trandoshan had been approached several days earlier by an Imperial operative who offered a high price for the death of a man on Nar Shaddaa, a price too high to refuse. How the Imperials were aware that this Jedi was on Nar Shaddaa mystified him but he had learnt through the years to just do the job and not ask questions. He prepared the necessary weapons and headed to Nar Shaddaa almost immediately. His search began in Corellian Sector, where a majority of humans lived. He asked a few questions, intimidated a few officials but his search turned into a wild goose chase that ended back where he had started (a seedy hangar run by Ugnaughts). The second day was spent in the refugee sector, where a majority of the citizens spoke not a word of Dosh or Basic. This goose chase ended in a dead end alley where a drug-addled man wearing a brown cloke cackled and giggled in the corner.

These previous failures had not deterred him. He had been contacted early in the evening by another Imperial operative who declared a man that looked quite similar to the description given had been spotted slipping into a bar. The bars name was unfortunately not told but the coordinates of the sector he was seen in were given. While it wasn't certain to be the man he was looking for, it was the closest thing to a lead he currently had. He gathered the coordinates quickly and set his starfighter off over the moon-wide city once again. As the purple dusky sky gave away to the orange light polluted city, he had landed his small, dirt smeared ship in a low hangar tucked away from the bustle of the local sector ran by a group of Jawas who had pointed their electrocution weapons rather threateningly at him as he stalked past.

Balkk was within reach of the target. Hidden in the bustling and often rowdy night of the sector, Joshua Tamashii was hidden. He could feel it in his cold-blooded heart. A cloak hung limply around his shoulders, covering the evidence of blaster weaponry that hung around his back. As well as the sword swinging from his right hip, a collapsible Adventurer Slugthrower and a Stun carbine clung to his back, attached by a simple yet useful strap that went from his left shoulder to his right hip. His feet and shins went bare, as did his arms and head. His torso and upper legs were covered in a mixture of dark cloth and armour, which completed his set up, built more for speed than actual protection. (OC: Basically this without all the S&M cuffs and hood))

The Trandoshan weaved in amongst the bustles of beings, keeping his head low. When his prey wished to present himself, he would. Aliens of all species walked these streets, some for good, a majority for bad. Most stuck to their own species but a few mixed groups could be seen, often laughing and drunk. Alcohol was something that Balkk had grown drank less and less of he grew older and as he had no one to share it with, it no longer appealed to him. At a corner, a small stall was set up where a group of dirty looking Gungans sold what looked like whomp-rat meat on a stick. It was cooked over an open fire. As the smell of greasy meat reached up his nostrils, Balkk suddenly realised he hadn't eaten in some while. His stomach groaned but the bounty hunter ignored it. Often while on the job, he forgot to eat and even sleep. He usually kept himself alive with a hip flask of water, which he had unfortunately lost while on his last job in Raxus Prime. The Trandoshan shook his head slowly. I shall eat when my target is dead. Sith knows what those Gungans are selling but it probably not entirely meat.

He reached a fork in the path and quickly decided to go left, not breaking his slow walk. There was no guarantee it was the right way but his instincts whispered their approval. A bounty hunters instincts were rarely wrong.