He walked across scorched ridgelines and into hot valleys, cutting his shoes and his pants, ripping the edge of his cloak. Always he bore himself forward, pushing against the wind and hot ash and sparks of the world. After maybe seven hours he fell into exhaustion in a small outcrop that was facing away from the wind somewhat, to keep the fire from burning his face.

When he awoke the sun was risen somewhat and he could see more of the blackened, ugly planet around him, stretching across its magma oceans and rivers. In the distance, to the West, there was a Spire, what looked to be a home of some kind, a massive palace, and he felt such hate and misery there that he forced himself to stay away, to keep walking toward the North.

Three days of walking later he had only used half of his rations but he felt himself growing thinner in a marked way. His urine was solid yellow and there were no water sources to find, no plants that bore life. He wondered how he could even breathe on this horrid world.

Still though, he adapted himself to the terrain and to the harshness. Soot covered his arms and his face. He used his energy to feel for where whoever else was here might be, and to cross the massive lava flows that crisscrossed the planet. Some nights it dropped suddenly from whatever terrible temperature it was during the day to what had to be negative temperatures, making him shiver as he slowly shuffled along. Just as quickly the temperature rose, causing him to want to cast the cloak off. Before long, of course, he was cold again.

On the fourth day he felt something, some urging to look to the left, and there, on the horizon line, was a small scout ship, something that he knew a smuggler would use, a quick in and out ship, for easy cargo, like a single person or information or whatever. He immediately stood, casting his pain and fear aside, whipping the lightsaber from his side and turning it on, waving it about. He knew that the Clones wouldn't use such a craft, that if they wanted him, they would be out in force, with their great engines of war. This, no, this was something different. He could trust this.

He put his effort into some sizeable leaps, shooting from the surface of the planet and waving the lightsaber about, trying to get the attention of the little ship. He felt his heart jump when the ship turned and flashed lights toward him, shooting forward. Within twenty seconds it was to him, swirling about comfortably before the landing gear lowered and it set down. A man was inside it, appearing utterly astonished at the sight of him.

He turned the lightsaber off and set it to his belt, jogging toward the ship, leaning against the side of it, looking at the little astrodroid that was sitting squawking at him on the wing. The man inside was fiddling with his equipment gauges, doing something, but, after ten seconds more there was a hiss and the atmosphere was let out of the ship. The cockpit opened and the man lifted out of it somewhat. "Hot damn, son, what're you doing out here? I been looking fer ya for since I got a seismic reading." He lifted a small screen up to show Dawsen. "You look messed up."

"Do you have water?" Dawsen climbed onto the wing and knelt right beside the droid, looking desperately at the man.

"Just my water. I've drunk out of it."

The boy reached for it, staring intently at the bottle until it was in his hand. He drank half of what was in the bottle, feeling what had been terribly dry insides become moistened, become nourished and vibrant again. It was pleasure he had rarely known. When he was done he nodded, passing the bottle back and saying, "Thank you. My name is Dawsen. I am a Padawan learner of the Jedi Order, and I was forced to crash land here after an altercation with the Clone Troops on my Master's vessel. To be completely honest I don't know why they attacked, but I'm here now. I need assistance getting back to Coruscant. I have Republican Credits, not much, but I'm sure the Order can afford more."

The man waved his hand. "I'll help you out because you need it, I don't need any Credits for doing my duty to the Jedi. I'm not on the either side, let me tell you, money is money, but I'd rather not want the Jedi on my bad side. First, we need to get you back to the compound, get you cleaned up and dressed better, fed and watered. The name's Corsen Namore." He thrust his hand out, and Dawsen shook it firmly. "I don't have much room in here."

Dawsen took his bag off, dropped it beside the man, and fell onto his lap. "If I'm in the way, move me."

Corsen laughed heartily. "That's the spirit." He checked the side of the ship for any forgotten items and closed the cockpit, lifted off and twisted about, touching some information into the navigation computer, and they shot away. Within five minutes they were on the other side of the planet, almost, descending toward a hole in the side of a massive cliff. They went in, spinning about and lowering into the darkness. A light eminated from below, and the cockpit was suddenly flooded with light, warm, holographic light, not the constant, horrid glare of the overworld.

They touched down in a garage of sorts, beside a larger ship, one that was two storied and long and wide, clearly a smuggler's ship. Dawsen said, "You're a smuggler?"

"Yes, I am." He opened the cockpit and patted the boy's shoulders. "Up and out, that's a good lad. We'll let you fed and cleaned, then you can sleep in a proper bed."

Dawsen climbed out onto the wing, reaching back for his bag, sliding down when he had it, checking quickly to be sure that the man hadn't taken anything. He set the bag on his back and looked around. Spare parts were arranged around, clearly for the starship, and, behind the starship he could see what looked like a three story modular home, white on the sides with rounded edges and wide transparisteel windows. "Nice set up."

The man hopped out. "Come on R4, let's go. Thanks. You, uh, don't have a problem with smugglers, right?"

The boy laughed softly. "I could kiss you for saving me from that. I can feel that I'm almost dead. Another few days and I wouldn't have made it." He shook his head. "No sir, I don't care at all." He gestured to the R4 unit. "Where'd you get that droid?"

The man rubbed his hand on his neck for a moment, chuckling sheepishly. "Erm, smugglers are as smugglers do, I suppose."

Dawsen rolled his eyes. "Smuggers aren't always thieves, but, once again, I don't care. I just want water and food."

"And," Corsen went to a sink that was set beside his home, taking a wash clothe up and tossing it to the boy, "a shower. You stink, sorry to say. How about you start with that, shower's there," he gestured to it, "there's no cooling, so it'll be warm just from the sheer heat of the rocks in this cave." He shrugged. "Can't do anything about it. Do you have a spare set of clothes in that bag of yours?"

Dawsen had already been stripping his clothes off, uncaring from his time at the Jedi Temple to be seen nude, but, as the man asked this, he double checked. "No. Nothing at all. Can I clean these?"

"If you'd like, but, I think I have a spare set of clothes that I was SUPPOSED to sell, and never managed to. Big bin from Alderaan. Royal's clothes, I think, gold and some fine stuff on it. Should be about your size." He watched for a moment while Dawsen stripped his pants off and folded them, looking at himself in the mirror.

"I look like a disaster."

"You look like a survivor. Shower. I'll fix you something to eat."

The boy nodded, watching the man watch him for a moment, and went to shower sprayer, finding that the hot water felt good, even though he had had enough heat to last him a good long while. He cleaned every crack and crevasse, making sure to let his braid out and even cleaning between his toes. When he was pink and sparkling clean he got the towel and sat on the edge of a crate, drying himself throughly.

Soon enough, the man came back, carrying some clothes on his arm. "I actually did sell those royal clothes, sorry. Here's some that might fitcha. Have a try." He set them beside the boy, then touched his shoulder. "There's a, I dunno, a charge, around you. You alright?"

The boy checked the pants that Corsen had laid down, brown linen things that looked incredibly comfortable, and nodded. "Yes, why?"

"There's a haunted look in your eye that doesn't equal survivin. You see a loss?"

The boy clenched his fist sharply. "Yes, but I'd rather not talk about it at this moment, okay?"

The man held his hands up. "I'm sorry, where are my manners."

"No," Dawsen touched his wrist, "it's not that, I'm just, processing it. Been going straight since he di-" he looked at the ground for a moment, "since he died."

Corsen knelt and looked Dawsen straight in the eye. "We just met, sure, but I'm here for you, understand? If you want to tell me, you can trust me to keep your secrets."

Dawsen nodded. "Thanks." He considered the shirt but didn't apply it. He pulled away from the man to get his lightsaber and the blaster and set them both on his belt when he got it. He considered himself in the mirror for a moment. The heat and the long walk had turned him raggedly thin. All that was left was the shreds of muscle he had and a very very thin layer of fat on his abdomen, though he was pleased to see that his abs were still firm as ever. He knew Oren would have called that fat water weight, left as a last resort, and knew, as he checked around, that he would need to get back to training immediately. Well, maybe after he recovered for a day or two.

The man nodded smoothly, glancing down at his feet. "You want some shoes?"

Dawsen stretched his toes out. "Naw, I'll be fine. I just want to eat. I'm willing to work to earn it."

Corsen held his hand up. "No need. I won't ask you for anything, son. I only hope that you succeed in whatever you have to do. Yes, you need to eat, so, follow me." He led Dawsen up a small set of stairs and into the little modular home that had been set in the cave. It was only about fifteen feet deep, with stairs right ahead of the doorway, a couple low couches and a longrange transmitter, holographic screens that showed some sports games from across the galaxy, somewhere. To the left was a kitchen, set into the entire structure of the unit beside this one. The modular pieces were welded together in the center, strengthed with a set of steel pieces that went from the sides of the welded pieces at angles into the walls. Corsen pointed upward, saying, "There's an sitting area upstairs, and beds, and my bedroom is on the very top floor. I have a couple guys I run with from time to time that are obviously currently not here. Also," he slapped his hands together, "I have a little friend you might like."

There was a soft mewling sound and a soft, fluffy, whitish-blue creature came inquisitively to the top of the stairs. It was maybe a foot long, with a long, bushy tail that was longer than its body, big fluffy ears that were cocked forward, and soft paws, the toes capped with little claws that were pushed against the very edge of the stairs. The little creature mewled again and leapt lightly to the floor, scurrying over, not to Corsen, but to the boy, leaping atop his shoulder effortlessly and snuggling in, wrapping that long tail around his neck and settling, purring across the length of its body. Dawsen giggled despite himself, reaching up to stroke the creature, smiling to feel it so soft and luxurious under his fingers. "What is it?"

"I don't know the name, rightly. Comes from one of the Core systems. Don't know which one exactly. Got him on a run, as trade for something else, creature for creature, ya know?" The man grinned. "He likes ya. Come sit, son, I'll fix you something to eat." He went to the table, white with cushy white padded chairs, and pulled one out. "I already started on something while ya were showering." He went to the stove and glanced back to confirm that Dawsen had sat down.

The moment he did he felt his exhaustion slam into him, truly, a whole-body awareness that he was utterly distressed and needed to rest and recover. Everything he had eaten these last few days had only barely helped to keep him alive, and he was utterly grateful to Corsen that he had been willing to look for him and save him from his suffering. "How did you find me?"

Corsen half turned and glanced back at him. "Oh, that, yeah. There's a caldera on the other side of the planet. I embedded some siesmic charges that can detect impacts, maybe fifteen of them, all over the planet. They can tell me if something is coming up of coming down. I see astroid strikes all the time, and that's what I thought you was. Good money in some of those asteroids, metals and that. I had a fit of shock when I saw ya leaping and swinging your laser sword around." He looked for a moment at it, seeming frightened of it.

"You have the siesmic sensors in case the caldera explodes? Why live here if there is such danger? Is it really that good of a base if you're in that much danger?"

Corsen shrugged. "Yeah. Everything here can be packed up right quick and taken into the atmosphere. The caldera is on basically the exact opposite side of the planet, so I'll have plenty of time to get away from it if there's a problem. Course, I don't think it will be a problem, the locals don't seem worried, but I'd rather not have problems in my life." He flipped whatever he was making and swirled it around with his poker. "Now, you don't have to tell me what your story is until you're good and ready, but I'd like to know before you and I leave here if we'll get any heat, from the Jedi or the Seperatists, from you traveling."

"I was given information that the Jedi Council will need to review. I don't know if I'm in danger, honestly. The Clones would have sent more soldiers if I was being hunted, and trust me when I saw that I looked."

"I know, I look too. There's some dark characters come and go here. I keep to myself, keep to my silence as much as I can. I aint on the run and I want to stay that way. I like being single and free. Best way to be." He favored the boy for a few moments. "Where are my manners?" He got a big pitcher of water and a cup. "Ya probably know more about survival stuff than me, so I won't try and suggest how you deal with that." He slid them both across the table and returned to his cooking.

Dawsen took the pitcher somewhat greedily and upended it, drinking as much as he could, knowing that he probably shouldn't, but it felt so good that he had to. When he was satisfied he leaned back, stroking the furry animal on his shoulders, rubbing his stomach. "Excellent. I just want to eat and sleep now."

The man was watching him, his eyes fervent and sharp. Dawsen noticed and didn't care as to the quality of his gaze, caring little for what the man thought or wanted right now. "That's a laser sword, isn't it? That's how you flagged me down."

Dawsen nodded sleepily. He took it from his belt and turned it on. The fluffy animal could be felt jolting awake and flew off his shoulders, skittering and crying out, racing for the stairs. Dawsen giggled but directed his attention to the man. "Made with a kyber crystal, part of my initiation trial. Had to build it myself. Excellent device, I quite like it."

"Well," the man swallowed uncomfortably, "I'm afraid of it."

"I understand that." He turned it off. "It is a tool as any other. The skill of using it requires a knowledge of the Force. You know of the Force?"

The man nodded. "Yes, and I know that those swords can cut through anything."

"Not anything. There are things that can deflect it, I think the hide of a Zillo beast is one of them, blaster bolts." He shrugged, set the lightsaber on the table in front of him, and rubbed his hand over his eyes. "How long will we be here?" I need to recover and train before I head back to the Jedi Order. I have to be in top physical condition, constantly."

The man smiled sheepishly. "Well, there's a job I have to run here soon. Kinda complicated, and, if I don't do it I'll be in deep with one of the gangsters on the Outer Rim."

"When and where? Also, please tell me it isn't the Hutts. They have a terrible reputation."

Corsen waved his hand. "Nothing that big, no, not the Hutts. He's a small time character that works at an astroid base, trading unit, you know. I have to collect the items first, which," he smiled even more sheepishly, "means I have to steal them, in laymen's terms, and from there I have to go to him and deliver the goods. I don't have the best hyperdrive, which, as it looks, I'm trying to get one from him, so travel time is a factor." He picked at the counter for a moment. "I got a Class 4 hyperdrive in now, looking at getting either a Class 2 or, if I'm incredibly lucky, a Class 1."

Dawsen's eyebrow's shot up. "That's better than most Military craft. I heard that there are some Sith craft that travel that fast, but that's probably a rumor." He smiled as Corsen lifted the pan and upended what he had been making onto a plate. This he brought to the boy. "Thanks so much. There's rumor about a smuggler ship that has a Class 0.5, but that's probably a lie."

Corsen's eyes went low for a moment. "I'd love to have something like that. Either way, I have that job to do. Have to leave for it in a week's time, should take a three days of travel, then the window of opprotunity will be open, and I can move on it."

Dawsen, as he absolutely tore apart what Corsen had cooked for him, meat and some bread, mostly, said, "We."

"You're not a smuggler!"

"But I'm agile and quite capable of defending myself. I'm smaller than you and I'll bet my lightsaber that you can't jump like I can. You need to sneak in and steal, you tell me your plan and we can reherse it. That'll be my contribution to you." He gestured with his eating utensil. "Even if you're doing this to be nice, I don't believe in not working."

"You're a boy!"

"I'm a Padawan learner. I've worked my entire life, short though it is. I'll help you and that's final, even if I'm only observing or piloting." He ate as fast as he could, observing silence until his meal was done. He pushed the plate away from himself, drank some more water, and nodded. "Excellent cooking."

"You were just hungry, I promise, I'm no stellar cook."

"I'd still be wandering out there if it weren't for you. Now, I need rest, do you mind?"

The man shook his head firmly. "No, I'd prefer it. You look ragged still. Sleep, especially after that big meal, will help you recover as nothing else. But you already knew that. You'll sleep in my bed, and that's final."

The boy nodded. He looked into Corsen's eyes and felt the trust in him. He knew that he was safe here, in body, spirit, and mind, that he wasn't in danger of being sold out or raped or anything else. He rose, taking his lightsaber and holding it, following the man upstairs, considering getting his bag, and, as he thought, he knew he should. "I'm going to get my things. There's something from my Master that I want to hold."

Corsen seemed to understand that it was his Master that had died, but he was tactful, nodding simply. "Come to the top level. I'll get it prepared for you."

He got his bag and went up the stairs, seeing a mess of cots over the kitchen and a sitting area over the downstairs sitting area. The stairs were stacked similiarly, so he went further up, to where Corsen was remaking the bed for him to sleep on, the stripped blankets laying on the floor. Without a word the boy took the blankets off the floor and pulled then over him, slumping back into the bed and moaning with pleasure, stretching across the length of him. When he was comfy he took the lightsaber and blaster and his bag and set them to the side of the bed, the lightsaber in his reach, and pushed his hand into his bag, hunting for the data chip. When he had it he pulled it close to himself, nodding to the man that all was well, and immediately fell into sleep.