Faal'dar was an older protoss, but not the oldest one out there. Even so, he was beyond most in age and had a teacher's intellect, which drew younger protoss under his wing. He was patient and wise, and an excellent fighter, and all in all the perfect person to go to when one had a problem.
Those associated with him called him "Pyjas," or "Uncle," as he never gave the air of being a grandfather though he was certainly old enough to be one.
He tried not to hold favorites, but it was difficult when he had so many students.
Pazura was one of them.
The boy walked to the beat of his own drum, and Faal'dar liked that. He was bright and a good warrior, but never let it get to his head: he was intellectual and sought his own answers rather than wait for them to come to him.
So when he received a message saying Pazura needed his help, he was intrigued.
The small station was built on a very large asteroid, almost moon-sized, and Faal'dar lead his team and taught students there. It was quiet and out-of-the-way, as most Nerazim outposts were, but fairly state-of-the-art and could somehow hold a large amount of protoss.
He stood in the observation deck, watching the silent dark void stretch out before him, falling in and out of meditation as he waited. He could stand there for a very long time, utterly still, as many elder Nerazim were able.
Pazura didn't sleep for long, and he was well awake by the time they neared the asteroid. West of Winter approached and docked with practiced ease, and its captain and former sole inhabitant's first priority was to meet with the technicians operating in the area about the nature of the cargo vessel still firmly clamped to his.
Rasti still seemed to be asleep, and Pazura decided that now would be a good time to warn the docking officials that he had a jumpy Khalai aboard, as well as inquire as to the whereabouts of wise old Faal. The Protoss standing outside wasn't a technician. He knew that because he recognized her.
Immediately he smiled. "Nthari! What are you doing here?"
"Good to see you, too, Paz," she cuffed him. Most protoss, upon meeting Pazura, assumed that he was not the most capable of warriors.
He had a tendency to be gentle and thoughtful outside of battle, and in everyday situations, wasn't necessarily the most... coordinated person. This worked to his advantage when he needed it to. Nthari would not have been able to catch her enemies unawares, because, despite her smaller stature, she looked dangerous.
And dangerous she was. Combat-wise, she had always been a step above Pazura. They were something like friends and something like rivals, and had been ever since they were young. She was lean and dark―all hard curves covered tautly with pale purple-gray skin―and was almost never seen without at least some of her armor. He cuffed her back, and after a moment this dissolved into a bit of good-natured tussling.
Nobody could accuse them of being disrespectful, but it was hard to be darkly graceful and serene when in the presence of old friends. "So," Nthari said once she had Pazura in a headlock, "You brought a prize? Some salvage?"
The larger male nodded awkwardly. "More than that, I'm afraid. Let me show you."
He led her inside and nodded to the open portal in the floor. She crouched down and blinked widely. "You found… a protoss."
"Yep."
She cocked her head. "Well, she's pretty. I'll give you that, Paz."
"Look at her nerve-cords," Paz suggested. Nthari narrowed her eyes and tilted her head. It was hard to tell with Rasti's back to the wall, but eventually she noticed the length of the appendages in question and jerked back as if the sight had stung her.
"Yep," Pazura said again. "Khalai. That's why I'm here. To talk to Uncle Faal. I don't really know what to do with her. She's not... well, I think."
"Oh." There was a healthy bit more suspicion in Nthari's bearing now. She cocked her head. "If anyone can help, he can."
"Yeah. Would you mind watching over her while I go see him? I don't think it's a good idea for her to be alone. She's… jumpy."
"Okay." Nthari sat on the edge of the trap-door and let her legs hang down into the room below. Carefully, she untied the cloth that had been concealing the lower half of her face. Her features were angular. She was reasonably attractive, but harshly so, wickedly so. "She isn't going to freak out, is she?"
"I hope not," Pazura sighed. "Thanks. I owe you one." He patted her shoulder, and she nodded, keeping her eyes on her new charge.
–
While Nthari babysat his unusual cargo, Pazura went to find Faal. The technicians he spoke with regarding the cargo vessel told him where Faal had last been seen, which was the observation deck. Pazura approached the elder in respectful silence, calmly waiting to be acknowledged.
Faal'dar's hunched figure presently shifted, and he straightened and turned around to face Pazura. He was not surprised to see him there. He likely knew he had been standing there since he arrived.
He was fairly large and muscular, with sharp sinews standing out on his neck and arms. In darkness, he looked at least very dark gray, but in the light upon closer inspection his skin, breaking into scales, shown lightly purple. His eyes held a hint of yellow.
He smiled, his head tilting automatically and eyes crinkling. "En taro Adun, student. I trust your studies have gone well since we last met."
"En taro Adun," Pazura replied respectfully. He relaxed a little―he was always stiff the first few moments with Faal, and he always unfailingly loosened up after those awkward moments had passed. "Indeed, sir." Normally this was the part where he would begin to tell Faal about the new plants he'd discovered, or some strange, otherworldly sight he had seen that had impressed itself upon his memory. He would begin formally, but enthusiasm would win him over and before he knew it he'd be gushing like a child.
Instead, he shifted awkwardly, and said, "I have… a problem. I found someone. A Khalai. She was just… adrift, her ship was failing, I didn't know what else to do. She's on my ship right now." Confusion was speeding his thoughts now where his enthusiasm would have normally done so, and he blurted on, "I think she might have problems, mental problems, she's been acting so strangely. I have Nthari watching over her now, but I don't know what to do next."
Faal'dar's heavy brows furrowed slowly as Pazura went on, and clasped his hands behind his back. He did not speak, but the flow of information was much faster than a vocal creature trying to communicate. It was only a minute before he replied, his voice laden with concern and gentle reproach. "You should have spared the energy and called upon Shakuras for the elders to take care of this woman, or perhaps gone to the planet yourself. I trust your judgment, and agree that her needs must not be ignored. But please, be careful when it comes to the Khalai.
"That said, we must see to this woman immediately. Take me to her."
Pazura nodded. Faal's advice and gentle reprimand did not hurt his pride. He knew that he was out of his element, here. He turned and led the way, turning his concentration inward. He would take Faal's advice to heart; Rasti seemed harmless on all accounts, but he couldn't be sure of it. Even if she didn't directly cause him harm, she could still be the key to some sort of Aiur-born trap.
Said woman, however, had other plans. She had begun to wake up, and upon feeling the protoss presence watching over her let out a sleepy telepathic greeting. This was before she woke up further and realized just who and what was watching her, and jerked upright, fear blasting through her mind. The Dark Templar watching her was even more frightening than the other, and the fact that she was female was only a mild comfort as she scrambled back, clutching the light-crystal tightly to her chest.
Nthari watched her wake and didn't move. She communicated with Rasti as best as she could from her perch on the lip of the porthole. "It's okay. I'm not going down there. You've got nothing to be afraid of." She had thought that, when the time came, she would know what to say, but she found herself now floundering for a means to comfort the strange female.
"So… you're okay?" She was only slightly more eloquent than Pazura.
"Where's the other one?" Rasti managed, jerking her head around in a vain attempt to find Pazura. Pazura frightened her just as much, but she had met him first, and... well there really was no reason that she wanted the other Dark Templar. She just did.
"You mean Paz? He went to get some help. We're… uh, trying to figure out what to do with you." Realizing that that sounded menacing, she hastily added, "I mean, to help you."
Nthari had thought that someday she would meet a Khalai, and that she and her destined foe would fight a great and terrible battle. She had never thought it would be like… this. It was confusing. "He'll be back soon."
On the heels of that thought, the airlock's door hissed open and Pazura stepped in, accompanied by Faal'dar. "Everything okay?"
"She's up, Paz, and asking for you," Nthari said, pulling her legs up and stepping away from the porthole. The male blinked in confusion, but obligingly crouched down by the porthole and looked inside.
"Are you all right?"
"Where are we?" Rasti croaked. "I th-thought you s-said you were going to a... to an asteroid belt!"
Faal'dar waited silently for them to finish the conversation. If it calmed her down, so be it. If not, he would step in.
"That was my original intention, yes, but I didn't feel it appropriate." He paused, and then stepped down the one-rung ladder to enter the room. He didn't go any closer to her, though. "Firstly, after we had gone, we would have had to come here anyway, and you obviously need… help. It didn't seem right to postpone a visit here to get some of that for you, just because I wanted to visit the belt." Only now they would have to go yet elsewhere for that help.
"I probably should have told you first," he conceded, reaching to to scratch his cheek under his cloth mask. "But you were asleep. And also, I didn't even think about it. I apologize."
Nthari stepped back from the hole so that he couldn't see her smile and clamped down on her mental mirth.
The elder standing next to her flicked a glance at the other and firmly directed her out of the small vessel. Rasti was obviously frightened of Nerazim, and it would not do to have more then necessary crowded around her. "Go, and receive Shakuras. Request a Prelate and tell them we have found a Khalai."
Nthari nodded respectfully and trotted off to obey.
Rasti was calming slowly, but was still very frightened. "But... where... where are we?"
"A small station. I mainly came here to see him." He gestured upwards, but Faal had walked away from the porthole. "Uh. I mean, I came here to see someone… not sure where he went, just now, but he is very wise, and I needed advice. It's a very nice station, actually."
He wanted to invite her to see it, but he was unsure that was prudent. Not only did he lack the authority, if this really was an act―and it didn't feel like one, but he wouldn't put anything past the Aiur-born―he didn't want to put the station's population in danger.
"We'll likely be going to Shakuras next. I imagine they'll… know what to do. To help you. Find you a place to stay. You still don't want to go home?"
"Sh-Shakuras?" Rasti had no idea what that was. No Khalai did. "No, I... I can't go back to... no. No."
Faal'dar reappeared at the porthole, and calmly swung down, landing quietly next to Pazura. Rasti's eyes got huge and she looked about to panic, but the elder protoss crouched down, exuding serenity. Despite his largeness and overall intimidating looks, his eyes and mind were gentle. He obviously knew how to deal with frightened individuals, because his mannerisms almost immediately calmed her. "Adun toridas, Rasti. My name is Faal'dar."
"Adun... en taro Adun," Rasti replied. Adun hide us? What kind of greeting was that?
The elder simply smiled. "There is no reason to be afraid, young one. No one here will harm you."
"Y-You're Dark Templar."
"Nerazim," he corrected gently. "We are Nerazim. Despite what you have learned, we are not evil, nor are we but mere animals. We are simply protoss."
"Oh," the woman replied faintly.
Faal'dar did not move toward her, but folded in on himself, kneeling down and making himself smaller. He mentally prodded Pazura to do the same. "What are you doing so far from home, young one?"
Rasti looked away. Embarrassment clouded her mind. "I... I ran away."
"I see."
She looked back up. "What's Shakuras?"
"Shakuras is the Nerazim world, where we gathered after our banishment so many millenia ago." He folded his hands, then made an obvious effort not to lecture. "You will be safer there than you would ever be here."
"Oh." Rasti looked at Pazura, unconsciously seeking his comfort, as well.
Pazura hunched down, himself. Given his posture, it wasn't terribly hard, and he watched, glancing from Faal to Rasti and back again as they spoke. Faal was really very much better at this than he was, but that was why he'd come here, after all.
"Shakuras is wonderful," was his quiet reply. "It is… quiet, and very dark. It is our home world, and most Nerazim live there." He did love Shakuras. He was born there, but deep down, Pazura was a wanderer. No single place had ever felt like home to him, with the exception of his much-battered, beloved ship. He did what he could to bury these thoughts for Rasti's sake.
Nthari, meanwhile, had gained access to a communications terminal, and was currently doing what she could to raise the planet in question. She informed the first face that appeared of their predicament, and, eyes widening, he informed her that he would be back with his superior. Nthari nodded and patiently waited.
Rasti's eyes widened at the description of the shadowy planet. Quiet and dark seemed horrifying to her. She loved the light, and people around her. Being alone in the dark brought back half-forgotten memories of... of...
Sensing her turmoil, Faal'dar spoke up. "You do not need to be alone, nor in the dark. There are plenty of lights there for you." Actually, Nerazim were infamous for taking their nourishment from faint traces of light, but they could spare some for their Khalai friend. Nerazim also enjoyed their individuality, but there would be no shortage of people wanting to help Rasti.
"Oh," she mumbled.
It wasn't long before a Prelate appeared. Her name was Liratha.
"Adun toridas, young warrior. Please tell me all."
Khalai were few and far between. Every once and a while one would appear in space, beaten almost to death and banished from Aiur for some crime or another. They were always taken with the utmost seriousness and were treated with kindness and respect.
"Adun toridas," Nthari replied respectfully. She related the tale as it had been told to her, conveying her thoughts slowly and more carefully than Pazura had managed. "His ship is named West of Winter―, give me a moment, I'll give you its tag," she leaned over the terminal, and soon fetched it. "Right now he and Faal'dar are speaking with her. She is…" Nthari's brow furrowed. "Unwell," she finished sadly.
Pazura would berate himself for nearly making a bad situation worse later. "I know you're frightened," he tried, "and Shakuras is very, very different from… Aiur." Part of him longed to see it, even though he knew it was off-limits.
He wanted to see the great sweeps of choked rainforest, bask in the glow of a warm, rich sun, the very same that had nourished his ancestors, but he knew he could not.
As such, the name "Aiur" was spoken with mental undertones of sadness. "But it is still a place of shelter. You will be safe from anything you fear there," he finished firmly.
Rasti laughed bitterly. "There are a lot of things I fear," she said. She looked away again, disgusted with herself, and Faal'dar leaned over and placed a hand on her shoulder. She flinched, but only slightly.
"No one will judge you," he said quietly. "We are a free people, and we will not look at you any differently than the bravest warrior."
She looked up at him, wide-eyed. "You don't... value bravery?"
He chuckled. "We are First-Born. Of course we do. But your fear is something I see as not yours. You are a very brave one, child, I can feel it under your fear. Some things just take time, and whatever had happened to you is one of those things."
Prelate Liratha listened silently. At the end, she simply nodded. "She must come to Shakuras," she said firmly. "If it is such a trap, we are well-hidden. You are not, and are not able to protect yourselves if the full might of the Templar come upon you. Please relay this to the esteemed Faal'dar."
"I will," Nthari bowed her head respectfully. "Thank you for your counsel; we will deliver her to Shakuras as soon as possible. Walk in shadow." Once dismissed, she cut off the communication.
Pazura watched, but did not move forward, himself. He didn't think that being approached by two Dark Templar at once would be very reassuring to her, and he didn't exude the same serene sense of paternal calm that Faal'dar did.
He was quiet for a moment, head tilted thoughtfully, his violet eyes oddly unfocused, as if he were staring at something past the far wall of his miniature greenhouse. Then he said, "Besides, there cannot be courage without fear. Feeling no fear, and conquering it, those are two different things."
He snapped his attention back to the two protoss before him, and added, "And they will help you do that. Conquer your fear."
Nthari stepped cautiously onto the deck above and peered in the porthole, but did not descend for fear of spooking the passenger. She had run to the ship, but now waited and kept her thoughts to herself. They seemed to be in the middle of something, and if she interrupted, she might very well ruin it.
Rasti was shaking her head. "I-I don't want to go to Shakuras. Those on Aiur could not help me..."
"Aiur-born are imprisoned within their own prejudices," Faal'dar stated bluntly. "They have a single version of people. If you do not fit their stereotype of what a Templar must be, you are unnatural and must be 'corrected.' We of the Nerazim believe in helping, not belittling. Yes, Nthari?"
Nthari took the invitation. "Of course," she offered from the porthole. Then, after a moment, she carefully made her way down and stood by Pazura.
They were each filling a part of the equation here―Faal was offering wisdom and comfort, Pazura a bit of everyday common sense, but what could she, a warrior, do to help someone as obviously fragile as poor Rasti?
"It's hard, living out here," she found herself saying. "There are more dangers to contend with than we ever imagined, so relying on one another is vital to our survival. I won't lie; Nerazim do not always get along…" She punctuated this by leaning sideways, resting her elbow on the crown of Pazura's craggy head.
His hunched-over posture, compared to her more upright stance, made it the perfect armrest. He blinked and shot her a sideways glance, but did not protest. "But we know when to stick together. When we need each other, we're there for one another."
"And you aren't Nerazim," Pazura replied from under her arm, "but you need us now. We would not be able to rightfully call ourselves protoss if we turned our back on you."
Nthari nodded firmly, still leaning on Pazura. She thought, too late, that perhaps she might have approached this more seriously, but could only hope her display might at least amuse their charge, since she was not terribly good at calming people.
Faal'dar did not mean for her to come down, and Rasti immediately had pulled back in fear, but the elder kept his hand on her shoulder and she couldn't shrink away. He flashed a look at the other female. "What did Shakuras say?" he asked her privately, giving her a mental prod to have her go back up the ladder. Rasti was not ready to be near the fierce-looking warrior.
Immediately Nthari drew back, abashed, and did not reply until she had vacated the room. She replied, also privately, "They say to bring her in immediately, and not just for her sake. If she is part of a trap, they will be better equipped to handle dealing with it."
Pazura looked back to watch Nthari go, and then turned to Rasti again. He wanted to help her, but he didn't know how, so he did the second best thing and stayed where he was.
"I see." Faal'dar returned his attention to the Khalai. "Shakuras is not a place to be afraid," he told her softly. "There will be more than enough people to help you there."
"W-Will you go with me?" Rasti was desperate for the paternal protoss' company. But Faal shook his head with a smile.
"No. I must remain here with my students."
Pazura smiled a little. He could understand why she would want to remain around Faal'dar―when he had been much, much younger, and a sight more timid, he had been almost as clingy. "I will see to it that you are comfortable," he said, "as best as I can."
He did not volunteer to take her because he assumed he would be doing so, all along. As far as he was concerned, seeing her safely to Shakuras was his responsibility. He paused for a moment, and scratched his cheek. "And I could get you more lights before we go." Hopefully that would make her feel a little better.
"Oh," Rasti murmured. She remained leaning a little into Faal'dar, who tolerated this patiently. "Well. All right."
"Come. Get up; walk around. Stretch your legs." The male rose, lifting Rasti with him. "It will be good for you to walk around."
"I-I... don't want..."
Faal ignored this and set her on her feet. "Nthari, see to it that the docking bay and hallways are clear. We do not want to frighten her even more," he said privately. "Pazura, you will escort her around the station."
Nthari nodded and left the upper deck, moving swiftly and soundlessly. She got to work, industriously clearing the area and staying out of sight.
Pazura blinked, and then nodded obediently. He let Faal'dar bring her close to him before he said, "I'll show you around."
He was unsure if he should touch her shoulder―he hadn't yet touched Rasti at all―so instead he offered his great, clawed hand, letting her make the decision to initiate the contact. He watched her, his glowing gaze placid and questioning.
Rasti tentatively took it, placing her slightly smaller hand in his. This surprised her: she wasn't as small as she thought she was compared to him. Less muscular for sure, but not much shorter. They must be about the same age.
As she was drawn to his side, she looked questioningly at Faal. He gave her an encouraging mental push. She stepped a little closer to Pazura and let herself be drawn out of her hiding place and onto the upper deck, then slowly into the hanger.
"Where... is everyone?"
"Around," Faal'dar replied vaguely.
Pazura smiled and swelled with a bit of pride. She was still obviously nervous, but this was the closest thing he had done to relaxing her since he'd met her. It felt nice to know he was helping a bit. Up close, he couldn't help but notice some of the same sorts of things she did. They were nearly the same size, though he found her age more difficult to gauge. Aiur-born tended to be smoother-skinned.
He also couldn't help but notice that she was a tad more muscular than average. She didn't possess the same obvious lethal strength as Nthari, but she looked a little more physically capable than the average female―had she been a warrior?
He knew nothing about her. It hadn't bothered him till that moment. He pushed such thoughts aside to help her up and then out of the ship. "This station isn't very crowded. Most of them aren't, actually. We make do." He sent a mental shrug, still holding her hand, as he gently led her along.
He paused before a broad window which displayed his ship securely locked in place, with the gentle curve of the docking arm stretching out behind it, and beyond, the star-scattered void.
"That's my ship." The vessel was quite scruffy-looking, even from the outside. Her cargo vessel was still attached, and simple though it was, its gleaming elegance made West of Winter look even more run-down.
Faal'dar smiled. His young student was growing up, his youthful exuberence slowly being replaced by the dark calmness and rationality of the void they so studied. It was more than he could say with Nthari, though he would not berate her for her warrior's spirit. It was just who she was.
"What was its name, again?" Rasti was asking. She even went as far as to give a slight smile. "It looks a bit run-down."
"West of Winter," he replied, and at her comment, he raised his cloth-shielded chin a little higher. "I believe the thought you are looking for is 'character.' Yes. It has character."
There was no real malice in his tone, but he was genuinely proud of his little vessel.
He was unaware of Faal'dar's approval. He was concentrating on Rasti and his ship. "There's an even better view on the upper decks. Would you like to see?"
"Yes," she replied, surprising herself. She let herself smile. "I think my ship has character. Yours is just old," she teased, then ducked her head and looked away in bashful apology. Her hand, though, remained tightly entwined in his, even as she looked over her shoulder to make sure the silent Faal'dar was still there.
He shrugged good-naturedly. Friendly teasing wasn't something to take offense at, and besides, it was worth it if it got her to come out of her shell like this. Pazura led the way, puzzled by the lack of personnel.
Nthari was doing her job, trailing them in utter silence and stealth, backtracking and then using alternate routes to get ahead of them and clear the way. Pazura was wholly unaware of her lingering presence, and probably only Faal'dar even knew she was around. This was the only thing she could do to help, so she took it seriously.
Of course, she wasn't able to dislodge everyone―there were a few operators left on the upper deck when Pazura arrived, but they had been warned, so they only glanced her way before returning their attentions to their terminals.
The view was sweeping and magnificent. The body the station was orbiting was cast in shadow, and beyond the horizon loomed the distant, colorful mass of a nebula, dotted with infant stars.
Pazura smiled and suppressed an urge to be gone, to be among those stars, to be traveling and searching for sights new to his eyes, for knowledge unknown to his people.
Faal'dar smiled mentally, studying Pazura proudly. He said nothing, however, and did not let on what he was thinking.
"What nebula?" Rasti found herself asking, glancing up at the taller Nerazim.
"There are a couple of different names for it," Pazura admitted, folding his hands together before him. "My tribe have always referred to it as Opal Reef. Opal for the colors―it is a magnificent stone, I have one I can show you as we make our way to Shakuras―and it certainly looks like a reef, with the stars like shoals of fish." He gestured with one hand.
Given the decidedly nautical set of his garb, it wasn't surprising that his people would have taken sea-themed names for things. "But the other names for it are just as grand. I believe one is Iawar's Breath, after a nearby star." It might have seemed strange to a Khalai to refer to something by so many different names, especially given the emphasis on solidarity and communion in Aiur society.
Rasti faltered a little when he released her, folding her own hands into her battered robe. She had wanted the Khalai name for it―indeed, it had completely slipped her mind that they might call it something different (or several things different)―so she could at least figure out where she was in relation to Aiur.
"I like them all," she said finally, studying the shimmering nebula. "Very... poetic."
"Pyjas!"
Rasti jumped and backed up fast, finding herself within the tattered cloak of Faal'dar. He folded an arm around her patiently and turned his head to face the young male bounding up to him. He had either escaped Nthari's notice or had convinced her to let him by.
"Pyjas, look what I found," he gushed, holding up the small centipede-like creature in his hands. "What is it? I couldn't find it in our archives! What is it?"
"Aaahh. I do believe you should ask Pazura that question," Faal'dar replied, amused. "He is the one who brought a family back from his travels and accidentally let them loose to breed. What are they, Pazura?"
The boy looked up at the other Nerazim, eyes bright.
Nthari appeared behind him a few moments later, her expression one of wry humor. It had not been her intention to let the boy pass, but the irony of a child being the only one to slip past her didn't fail to register. She stayed a few feet away, ready to lead the child back to where he came from.
Pazura cocked his head and turned to face the child. "Oh, these. What they are is both a blessing and a curse, little one," he replied, holding out his hand. The tiny creature crawled onto it, and then over, and he had to cycle his palms to keep it from flopping to the floor. "They shed these little legs at the slightest sign of danger, which causes a mess, but they eat a lot of smaller bugs, which could do worse."
He glanced to Rasti. "I call them tontai. Would you like to see, Rasti? They're quite harmless."
"No, that's all right," Rasti mumbled, staring hard at the floor. It embarrassed her that she had been so jumpy around a child, for Khas' sake. Who was now staring up at her, unabashedly curious. He did not, however, say anything, whether it be because of his own self-restraint or because Faal'dar mentally urged him not to. "How did you get them to breed?"
"Pazura will write an archive entry just for you, little one," Faal butted in smoothly. "He has been lagging in those, lately. Child, go with Nthari. I will answer all your questions later."
"If I lagged in my studies, you'd lecture me," the boy grumbled, but stepped back sullenly and allowed himself to be taken away.
"Indeed." Faal'dar glanced at Pazura, tilting his head as if contemplating giving a lecture.
Pazura blinked, and with that motion the moment seemed to break. He hadn't realized just how nervous Rasti had become until he saw her folded away like that. "Take it along, now," he offered it back to the child, and then Nthari leaned down and clamped her hand gently on his shoulder.
"C'mon, squirt," she led him away.
Pazura turned to the other two Protoss. "I'm sorry, Rasti. Are you okay?" He was so concerned that he missed Faal'dar's stern expression.
"Yes," Rasti replied, still staring at the floor, huddled safely in Faal'dar's cloak. The elder waited patiently for her to calm herself and step away (but only slightly; she remained very close to him). "I'm sorry."
"It's fine," Pazura reassured her, staying where he was for fear of spooking her further. Faal was much better at comforting than he was. He didn't know what else to tell her after that. "Well, enough sightseeing. We had better get you some fresh clothing and get on our way, I suppose."
He glanced surreptitiously to Faal'dar to see if this plan was one the elder found favorable. In Pazura's mind, the sooner they got to Shakuras, the better.
Faal'dar felt the young protoss' mind flicker against his, but he was looking down at the dark brown female and missed the gaze. He said nothing.
"All right," Rasti said, also glancing up at Faal. He smiled at her and exuded patient confidence. "But that... that boy. He had long cords."
"He did indeed," the elder said, urging her along. She took a step forward and looked up at Pazura, expecting him to lead the way. "We do not Sever children. We only do so when they become of age... and when they are capable of making that decision themselves."
Rasti shuddered. Severence. The most horrid of thoughts. To be cut forever from the Khala, from her friends and loved ones, from the steady stream of information and memories that made her world. How did these Dark Templar―Nerazim―not go mad?
Faal'dar did not answer. He simply urged Pazura silently to extend his hand to her again, to give her the option of taking it.
Pazura held out his hand an instant before Faal had to remind him to, which left the elder slightly relieved that Rasti would be properly taken care of. He couldn't help but feel the revulsion emanating from her mind at the word "severance."
He was a little surprised, at first, and then he thought privately to himself, Of course she would. She's Khalai. He had started to see Rasti as a person, as more than just an Aiur-born.
He snapped back into the proper focus―yes, she was upset, yes, she needed help and care, but he was going to be alone in his vessel with her, and he must not let his guard down like that again.
"Do you have a preference for clothing? Or anything else? The journey to Shakuras is not terribly long, but your current conditions aren't as comfortable as they could be," he said, still offering his hand.
Hesitantly she inched forward and laid her hand in his once again. "I... yes. I mean, no. No preference." Of course, she did have a preference as to whether or not they were as torn and unkempt as the Dark Templar around her, but she didn't say so. Even the technicians' clothes were worn. She looked at them, startled: she'd forgotten they were there. It was easy to do so; they melted into shadow so easily...
She stepped a little closer and tightened her grip on Pazura's hand, glancing down at his long nails. Goodness, they were talons. Her own were not nearly as long as his. Even Faal'dar's were very long. Was that a Nerazim thing?
Pazura did not sense her confusion at his taloned fingers―his thoughts were elsewhere, mentally ticking off a list of things he'd need. "Would you prefer to come with me or wait at the ship?" he asked, turning his masked face to her once more. If she came along, she would be exposed to many strangers, but he didn't think she would want to be alone, either…
Which left him in a quandary, as he certainly couldn't stay with her and gather the supplies. He also didn't want to trouble anyone else with the tasks. He was sure Faal'dar would agree to stay with her, but he felt he had already used too much of the elder's time.
In the end, though, it all rested on her decision. "If you come along, there will be many others. I'll make sure you're not alone, if you stay aboard West of Winter."
Rasti immediately looked up to Faal'dar, who remained quiet, refusing to make a decision for her. She looked back at Pazura. "I'll... come with you." She fidgeted. "I won't have to put that... one of those things over my face, will I?" she blurted suddenly, then shrank away in embarrassment.
It took Pazura a moment to realize what she meant. "A―a mask? No! Of course not. It's just a tradition of my tribe," he explained, "as well as a few others. Nobody would expect it of you; you are not Nerazim. And not all Nerazim wear such, after all." He began to gently lead her along.
Hopefully he would be able to keep her from freaking out if he distracted her, and he intended to do that by educating her. He explained the function of the station. It was a waypoint between major populated colonies. It was technically a refueling station, but travelers got much more than that when they came here.
"It is a place to refuel your ship, your stock, and your soul," he explained as they moved into a more populated sector.
Nthari had dropped off her silent pursuit, because she couldn't possibly clear everyone out, but she didn't wander far, in case they needed her. It wasn't often that she ever got to nurture anything, and even if she had just scared the crap out of poor Rasti, the thought of helping something helpless made her feel strangely nice.
"Not everyone is used to being alone all the time. It's nice to have company," Pazura went on as they passed corridors full of Nerazim. Their garb, shape, and size were wildly varied, suited to their home worlds and customs. All manner of armor was on display, some of it cobbled from the remains of alien bones to elegant constructions of jet-black stone.
There were smoother-skinned Nerazim, but none as such as Rasti, and some even more fierce-looking than either Pazura or Faal'dar. Pazura kept a firm hold of Rasti's hand as they moved.
Rasti had begun to calm again, and her curiosity even won over her fear of the vicious-looking Templar, though she kept herself close to Pazura. Faal'dar moved farther back, unnoticed by her, to give her time to associate being safe with the younger Nerazim.
The Khalai received quite a few stares herself. As Aiur-born, she garnered a bit of attention. No one spoke to her, nor approached her, likely sensing her fear, but there was a healthy amount of curiosity traveling through the dark spectators.
"So... your people are communal," she said slowly. She had been taught that all Dark Templar were vicious and unruly, even within their ranks. This was obvious as she watched them, but was hard to grasp. All those Judicators... the Conclave... the Assembly... they lied?
"We are more private than what you're probably used to," Pazura admitted, "But very few protoss can live a truly solitary life. We have families and loved ones, too." He was more of a loner than was perhaps normal. He didn't dislike company―he simply preferred to share his time with the untouched mysteries of the Void. If he ever found someone who shared such a passion, he'd happily bring them along.
He looked to her. One didn't have to read minds to sense her surprise. "Not what you expected?"
She gave a quiet negative. "We're taught... we're taught that you're savages. Bloodthirsty. Unruly. Evil."
Unconsciously, she moved closer to him, her side pressed to his. How could they have been so wrong? And when faced with the truth, why did they continue to lie? It made no sense. Why didn't they just... just...
Just what, she didn't know. Accept them, perhaps? Rasti doubted the Conclave would ever accept those who did not share themselves in the Khala. But why didn't they just teach them, instead of shun them? It was all very confusing.
Pazura replied quietly, "You were clearly taught wrong." He then fell contemplatively silent. He was acutely aware of her leaning against him. He was not used to physical contact of any kind, and such from an attractive female was certainly not unwelcome.
He chided himself, though. She was doing this for comfort, not because she wanted anything from him. Enjoying it seemed… wrong, like he was taking advantage of her. "I do not know why Khalai are taught to hate us. Probably some of it is fear. But we have no quarrel with Aiur. We simply ask for the right to live our lives as we see fit."
Rasti was silent, digesting this.
They arrived at a door, which looked exactly like the rest of them. After they made their presence known, they were bid to enter and walked into a small room which served as a typical living quarters. Inside, clothes hung from every surface, and in the center of the circular room a middle-aged female sat crosslegged. She greeted them politely.
"Yes?"
Pazura smiled and bobbed his head politely. "Good evening! My friend here needs some decent clothing. We're about to make our way to Shakuras." He gestured to Rasti, but didn't push her forward or away, content to let her take comfort in his bulk.
He paused for a moment, and then said, "I think dark purple would look good against your skin tone." He hoped it helped drag her mind out of whatever well of fear it had mired itself into, because he couldn't think of anything else to say.
Rasti blinked and pulled herself out of whatever she was thinking of, glancing down at her brown body. "Dark purple...? Yes, I... suppose it would." She'd never tried that color.
The other female rose, studying Rasti curiously, and the Khalai pressed further into Pazura. She recognized the fear and backed away. "Of course. Stand up straight, child, and let me see your body."
Rasti obeyed hesitantly, standing free of Pazura for a moment while the Nerazim studied her with a critical eye. After she had given an encouraging nod, she shrank back to the male's side again. "I do believe I have some currently made." She went to rummage through the clothing heaped around, which, while it seemed in untidy piles, apparently had a sort of filing system, and the female emerged with deep purple robes. "Only one set, I'm afraid," she said apologetically. Most Nerazim generally wore one set of clothing for a very long time, but Khalai tended to change clothes frequently.
Pazura looked it over and nodded. "That'll suit you just fine. Thank you again," he said to the older protoss. "You can change when we get back to West of Winter."
There were a few more items to gather―extra provisions and a bit of spare fuel, just in case―but all too soon it seemed as if it were time to go. Nthari had vanished during the shopping, but reappeared to say goodbye and to with the two of them luck. "See you soon," she called.
Pazura stopped to formally thank Faal'dar. "I appreciate your guidance, as always," he murmured, bowing his head respectfully. "And this time your wisdom has benefited two. We both owe you so much."
Faal'dar, too, had disappeared during the shopping, and reappeared near the ship when it was time to depart. He was pleased that Rasti had shifted some of her comfort from him to Pazura. Likely, she considered him her savior as he was the first to find her.
"I have continued doing my duty," he said, placing a hand on Pazura's shoulder. It was a warm, friendly weight. "As well as my pleasure. I hope to see you soon... and you will create data entries for each thing you have found to put in the archives." His eyes twinkled. "You will have a very disappointed young fan here, elsewise. Adun toridas, Pazura."
"Goodbye," Rasti mumbled.
"Walk in shadow, my young friend. Shakuras is the right place for you."