Chapter 34

Thunder rumbled in the distance, roaring across a sky that had yet to be overtaken by clouds pregnant with moisture, save for a few, nomadic cumulonimbi skittering through the atmosphere. Rishi's primary still shone brightly through the predominantly clear sky, though the impending storm would likely be upon the civilization below its gaze within hours, judging by the stiff, salt-laden wind streaking off the surface of the nearby ocean, almost frigid in its temperament, in spite of the heat of the sun and the humidity suffusing the atmosphere.

Foyi only glanced up in curiosity when she heard the thunder, but she did not slow her stride as she moved through the busy, crowded Bootlegger's Market, a relatively open area of moist boardwalk crowded with stalls and stands tended by sentients representing dozens of species, calling their wares in competing levels of volume. From what little Foyi could actually understand of the various languages being shouted, very few of the products for sale in the market surrounding her would have been legal on Imperial-controlled worlds, but this far in the Outer Rim Territories, deep within the snarled hyperspace lanes of the Rishi Maze, the Empire had next to no presence here. Which was how the many inhabitants of the grimy, haphazard, and treacherous city of Raider's Cove preferred it, as the city, built from flotsam and salvage, permacrete and durasteel edifices rising from unstable wooden platforms suspended along the coast of Horizon Island, was a haven for spacers, pirates, scoundrels, and adventurers from all over the galaxy. Beings from all walks of life and with varying degrees of involvement in the underworld of the galaxy passed her by, going about their own business, some inebriated or high on spice, others traveling in tight groups with hands on blasters, slugthrowers, and vibroblades. The city had an ancient feel to it, having been built by shipwrecked pirates thousands of years before, the erosive signs of time evident in the level of decay apparent in the wooden supports upon which the majority of the city was constructed in order to keep the predominance of the homes and businesses above water when the tides rose. The sheer variety and inconsistency in building materials, aesthetics, and architecture bespoke of multiple cultures over the millennia having been involved in its construction, and there did not seem to be any sort of central planning or overall direction in layout, leaving visitors to navigate the various neighborhoods by memory or proffered direction alone. Foyi was reliant upon her memory, for she had already been here over a week, and had spent many an hour already wandering Raider's Cove, familiarizing herself with her environs while taking in all the unique and unusual sights they had to offer.

She kept her gait relaxed and casual as she traversed the rotting boardwalk providing the floor for the market, trying to ignore the sounds of creaking and swaying prompted by her feet as she walked across some of the weaker boards. She was careful to keep her gaze constantly moving, not wishing to attract the attention of any of the hostile members of the crowd moving about her. She recognized far too many elements of criminal syndicates either striding past or lurking in alleys and the shadows cast by market stalls or leaning edifices of wood and mildewed duracrete. She gave a group of human men a wide berth, their garments covered in armor cobbled together from a menagerie of sources, their hairstyles, predominant scars, and equipment belts laden with blasters, blades, and grenades suggesting they were pirates or mercenaries. They trailed behind a severe and powerfully-built human man with bulging musculature, a wide face, a sharp nose, and dark eyes of malice and cruelty. Foyi's gaze merely fell upon him for an instant, though it was enough to note the black outfit he wore that left his arms and legs predominantly bare, the wild shock of red hair atop his head, not to mention the prodigious beard of the same crimson covering his chin. He gave her a passing glance as he and his subordinates walked in the opposite direction, but it was enough for him to favor her with a sneer of contempt. She paid him no heed and continued onward, striding past a pair of Zygerrians with Anjiliac tattoos on their necks, who were openly sizing her up as though she were a nerf steak. The part of her that was always paranoid, always hostile, no matter how safe she otherwise felt, urged them to try and accost her, if for no other reason than for her to try out the weapon hidden in its holster upon her back on live targets. But Foyi continued walking, past a stand where a Lethan Twi'lek male bartered over alien foodstuffs with a pair of Rishii and a Weequay adherent of the H'kig religion. They bantered in no less than three languages, the individuals of the group barely able to understand each other as they argued over each misunderstood word and offer.

Foyi drew the scarf she had tucked about her throat a little closer to her chin, her lekku wriggling slightly against the cloth as they draped behind her shoulders. She wore a hooded jacket similar to the one she had worn on Felucia, though that article of clothing had long since been tossed away, due to all the tears and stains created by both mud and blood it had sustained. Her legs were clad in cargo pants with multiple pockets along the sides, and beneath her jacket was a white shirt with a low, open collar, a style favored by many spacers. She had girded herself with a bandolier across her chest containing multiple pockets for power packs, rations, and other small devices, while her utility belt contained further pouches, as well as a holster that rode low on her right hip, housing a Model 434 "DeathHammer" Heavy Blaster Pistol. Over her left shoulder she had tossed the strap of a satchel, in which she kept various foodstuffs and hygienic supplies to replace those that she had already used on the journey that had found her here on the outskirts of the galaxy. But the weapon she was most aware of was the one hidden within its sheathe beneath her jacket, riding near the center of her back, that she might reach back behind her neck or under her jacket to seize it and bring it to bear. Not that she actually needed to physically grab it from beneath her garment to wield it, for the replacement for her lost discblade was as attuned to her as her previous weapon had been, and she could call it telekinetically to her hand almost instantaneously. The confident set of her stride was partially due to the fact that she possessed the traditional weapon of the Zeison Sha once more, having constructed it from various materials she had received from Rayf, or found in junkyards and salvage heaps across all the many locations they had visited thus far. Its presence was like a calm, steady ripple against her consciousness, a quiet assurance that she held an intrinsic part of what she considered to be her identity again. She had previously realized that she, as an individual, was far more than the armaments and accoutrements she might possess, but she could not deny the irrational feeling of comfort that came with the replacement of her Force tradition's signature weapon.

Foyi set for herself a meandering course that took her close enough to many individual stalls, that she might take in with a glance the wares they offered, but not so close that the merchants might immediately pester her for a sale. The zigzagging course she walked would eventually lead her back to the outskirts of town, and partially-overgrown landing platforms on the edges of Horizon Island's jungles, what served as a sort of spaceport for Raider's Cove. Traders, spacers, and visitors walked around or shoved directly past her, as she was walking against the general flow of traffic, which reminded her to keep her supernatural senses close to her body and the equipment she carried, lest one of these passerby prove to be a pickpocket.

On the farthest edge of Bootlegger's Market, Foyi's attention on her external environment wavered as she thought ahead, imagining the path she must take to get back to the landing platforms and the ship that had been her home for slightly over a month now. But even as her focus turned inward, her eye caught upon a market stall that was little more than a lean-to of wood lashed together with crude, woven ropes and vines, thick leaves taken from jungle trees dangling over the lip of the roof. Sitting beneath this shelter, utilizing the shade produced by the slanted roof, was a small member of the Rishii species, avian humanoids capable of flight, due to their light frames and the feathered wings upon arms that ended in triple-digit hands. His wide, brown-feathered face sported a large beak almost in the center of his face, flanked by piercing yellow eyes. The Rishii sat cross-legged beneath the overhang of his market stall, his lengthy tail curled around his four-toed feet. He sat in a patient, contemplative silence, his gaze sliding upward to meet her own, even as she looked down at the strange collection of objects he had arrayed before him, assuming they were valuable commodities. One was a comlink old enough it might have hailed from before the Clone Wars, and remained in dubious shape and functionality. Another was several, unrefined chunks of brown stone streaked with teal and aqua-colored minerals, specimens of the local fossil fuel exonium. Beside these was a bundle of feathers in a full spectrum's worth of colors, arranged in a sort of bouquet or perhaps a fashion accoutrement meant to be worn on the arm or about the neck. Next were a trio of thin, hand crafted slings with accompanying stones for bullets, the traditional weapons used by the predominantly primitive Rishii; Foyi had heard rumors of the Rishii, despite their accepting and placid nature, possessing deadly accuracy with such weapons, especially when flying above their intended target. But it was the final item that truly drew her interest, a formation of roughly-hewn crystal smaller than the palm of her hand, its exterior a cloudy shade of green made dark by the suggestion of blackness within its facets.

Foyi dropped into a squat before the merchant, staring at the crystal laid out upon the blanket between them. An idea occurred to her as she stared at it, then brought her gaze upward to meet the regard of the Rishii, who patiently stared back, cocking his head to the side with a quizzical sense to his presence. "What is this?" Foyi asked, stabbing an index finger at the crystal.

The merchant reached out with delicate fingers and held the crystal up to the light, further encapsulating the dark heart of the formation that leaked into the green coloration about its contours. "Color crystal. For Jedi. Very old."

"And valuable?" Foyi finished with a suspicious glance.

"Not anymore," the Rishii replied in a tone Foyi believed to be his species' equivalence of nonchalance. "Not since Empire. Curiosity, now."

Foyi kept her expression neutral as she shifted her gaze to the passive regard of the Rishii. "How much do you want for it?"

The Rishii curled his fist about the crystal, the soft glow of the light reflecting off its facets disappearing as his palm enclosed it. "Why you want?"

"I have a friend...a friend who collects 'curiosities', and I think he might like it. Does it matter? I have credits."

The Rishii's right wing came up in a dismissive wave, momentarily buffeting Foyi's face with a wash of moist air. "Do not want credits. Trade."

"For what?"

The Rishii reached forward, his dexterous, gentle fingers running along the contours of the pouches on her bandolier. Foyi flinched away slightly, but then touched the bandolier herself, her gaze quizzical. "This? You want my bandolier?"

The Rishii's other hand opened, revealing the crystal housed within. "Ban-do-leer for shiny stone. Trade? Good trade."

Foyi smiled and pulled the leather belt from her shoulder and over her head, folding it over once and placing it on the blanket at the Rishii's feet. The Rishii's head bobbed in appreciation, and he gently laid the crystal at the tips of her mud-caked boots, where she squatted. They each picked up their traded prizes and took a moment to gaze at them, the Rishii immediately rifling through the pockets of the bandolier to find small ration packs and blaster cartridges, while Foyi turned the crystal over in her hands, her fingers sliding over the smooth edges and uneven facets. She grinned and tucked the crystal into a pouch at her belt, patting the pouch closed and standing upright. "Thank you," she told the Rishii as she readjusted the strap of her satchel upon her shoulder.

The merchant bobbed his head, slinging the bandolier across his own chest. "Your friend like curiosity. Yes?"

Foyi nodded. "He's a curiosity himself, so I'm certain he will."

The paths wandering outside of Raider's Cove cut through the mud and the thick jungles surrounding the grimy city of scoundrels, ne'er-do-wells, and villains, dense tropical and deciduous trees in so many shades of green, they made her eyes hurt to look upon them too long. She had wandered the city during bouts of listlessness for days since her visit to Bootlegger's Market and the curious Rishi with the crystal that had caught her eye, having nothing urgent to attend to for what felt like the first time in her recent memory. She had taken in many of the sights and sounds the city had to offer, avoiding those who looked as though they might pose a problem for her if she were to engage them, though it was the Rishii and the H'kig who were typically those willing to engage in conversation should she so desire it. Beyond the city's outer limits, which were difficult to determine due to the way individual constructions tended to spill out every which way from the older buildings and crumbling northern wall, the rest of Horizon Island stretched beyond her view, the terrain of varying elevations rising into ridges and mountains amongst valleys and swamps. Foyi occasionally ventured beyond those limits, into the forest named the Western Jungle Expanse by locals, to meander about the trees, studying the native flora and fauna and letting herself absorb the scenery, letting her connection to the Force spiritually inform her of the unique presences of unfamiliar animals and predators slinking through the underbrush. The expanse of vegetation was dense, despite the hilly, rock-laden soil in which the drooping palm trees loomed above her, dripping with rainstorms that had swept across the island on multiple occasions in the last few days, sometimes more than once a day. Unlike the claustrophobic and sinister sensations she had felt within the otherworldly but dark beauty of Felucia, the Western Jungle Expanse held only serenity for her, a communion with nature and the other creatures around her, rarely seen but always felt as the origins of light, calming ripples radiating out from their presences, teasing the surface of the infinitesimal depths of the Force by their existence alone. Her solitary walks also gave her time to think, to consider what the future held for her, her sister, and her friend. She knew not where she might find herself in that future, or what she would be doing in it, and this notion both excited and frightened her. Foyi had yet to fully emerge from the haze that had settled upon her mind since finding Tama again, as though her consciousness were trying to convince herself that she was walking through a dreamscape, as though none of what she had experienced since was real. She had no ultimate goal or direction in her life now; previously, being a Zeison Sha Warrior, training her sister in the traditions she had learned, and simply surviving from day to day had been enough to set direction and purpose for her existence. But Tama was safe, if not entirely well, and nothing on Rishi had yet arisen to actively threaten their lives. She had continued to impart her knowledge of the Force and Zeison Sha techniques to Tama, but her sister had been less than receptive. She was more dutiful, more focused on her training than ever before, but her interest in expanding and developing her abilities and her newly-strengthened connection to the Force were more in tune with Rayf's capabilities than Foyi's. Indeed, Tama had asked Rayf to show her more of the ways of the Matukai, as well as help her to better understand the unique philosophy of that tradition, the strive for perfect balance within oneself and the Force. Foyi had tried to hide her disappointment in both herself and her sister, that Tama seemed to no longer be interested in the teachings Foyi had tried to impart to her for years now. That Foyi had failed to not only protect her sister, but provide the instruction in the Force she required. But if Rayf was in a better position to help Tama continue on her path of discovery of herself and the Force, she could think of no better teacher.

Foyi stumbled on a stone jutting out from the overgrown path of mud and fallen branches, nearly throwing her from her feet and eliciting a vile curse that pulled her from her deep contemplations. She hopped past the stone, then looked ahead to see the moldering series of landing platforms through the hanging leaves of the palm trees, the permacrete pads and surfaces built upon wooden planks and supports near the coastline laden with starships belonging to mercenaries, bounty hunters, and spacers from all across the galaxy. All willing to brave the turbulent Rishi Maze to find a port of sanctuary from the law, from the Empire, or even from their own personal struggles and demons.

Foyi gave the unknown starships and the droids bustling about, lifting and offloading cargo crates and cylinders, a wide berth as she followed the thin path about the perimeter of the unofficial spaceport, where it carved its way deeper into the jungle. She walked for half a kilometer, far enough that the other ships soon became obscured by the foliage and the shadows beneath the canopies. The path opened into a clearing, only one of many landing fields scattered along the coast, the natural barrier of the jungle providing the current occupants a small measure of privacy. In this clearing, resting in thick tangles of grass and soft mud, was the Flamusfracta, where it had remained for a couple weeks now. Moisture had collected across its pitted and carbon scored hull plating, and fallen leaves rested atop the upper portion of the ship, which would have been its forward section if it were in its flight configuration. The landing ramp was down and open, and near it, by the edge of the jungle, were the two companions with whom she had been traveling with, with whom she felt she belonged, no matter her own uncertainties and misgivings regarding her place in the universe.

Rayf was farthest from her, clothed in a short-sleeved shirt with a low, open collar and loose-fitting pants that allowed him a wider range of movement and changes in stance. He had shaved his head recently, finally parting with the hair that had been leaving his scalp anyway, and had allowed the hair on his chin to become a short, neatly-groomed beard along his jawline. He held an unadorned wooden staff in both hands, keeping it in a relaxed, defensive posture as he slowly circled his opponent. His gaze was intense and determined, focused but not pained, and he showed no signs of weakness or exertion, save for the small stains just beneath his armpits. He faced Tama, who still looked so small and frail that a single tap from Rayf's quarterstaff might snap her in half, but the Force was rippling out from her and toward her as she drew on it in a controlled and powerful motion. She was clothed in similar pants and a light tunic that she had borrowed from Foyi, which looked almost two sizes too large for her, hanging from her like a dangling flag, though the material at her back stuck close to her spine as a result of the sweat that rolled off her body. She was breathing heavily, her lekku twitching in anticipation and agitation. She held a similar quarterstaff, though it was above her head in an aggressive stance, slowly revolving above her as she analyzed Rayf's posture with both her eyes and the Force, searching for an opening, attempting to determine what moves he would make to counter her own and how she might respond.

As Foyi approached, Rayf glanced to the side to offer the Twi'lek a smile in greeting, at which point Tama took her opportunity and pounced, bringing the quarterstaff down at him in a vicious, two-handed blow meant to impact Rayf's head and neck. Rayf's gaze instantly shifted back to Tama as his body dodged to the left, throwing the Twi'lek off-balance, her weapon only striking air. Rayf, now flanking Tama, whirled his quarterstaff about his waist to take out her legs in a single sweep, but Tama had already recovered from her missed swing and called upon the Force to leap vertically in the air. As she was airborne, her right foot snapped toward Rayf's chin, forcing him to arc his back to bring his head away from the blow. Tama landed and immediately tucked into a roll across the grass to escape Rayf's series of three slashes and a stab that slammed the end of his quarterstaff into the ground where she had been milliseconds before. Tama whirled about to face him again, in time for Rayf to lever his staff out of the mud with such speed as to fling a clod of that mud at Tama's face. Instinctively, her palm flew up to her face and erupted with telekinetic energy, flinging the droplets of mud away from her. Rayf followed that with a series of short, precise sweeps of the staff, and wood rang out with hollow-sounding clunks and splintering sounds as Tama blocked or redirected every single blow with her own staff. Rayf was relentless, pressing the assault, his movements starting to blur as he picked up speed. Tama frantically backpedaled, unable to mount any retaliatory attacks as she was forced merely to block Rayf's, the staff nearly vibrating from her hands with the force Rayf applied behind each strike. She was panting now, her legs quivering and her feet slipping in the mud as she shifted her stance constantly, but Rayf refused to relent or give her a moment to reassess her position, pushing her further and further until her heels struck a fallen branch. Tama gave a shout of surprise as she tumbled backward, losing her balance completely and landing in a heap in the underbrush of the jungle surrounding the clearing. She flailed and scrambled to get back to her feet, only to lift her head in time to find the end of Rayf's staff hovering just beneath her chin. She gave a resigned sigh and tossed her staff to the side, conceding the duel. Rayf spun his staff away from her, putting it in a ready, backhanded grip, then reaching with his free hand to help the Twi'lek girl to her feet. "Remember, Tama, your environment is as much a part of you as you are of it. All is one in the Force, and when you are properly balanced, your body and your environment become integral parts of the whole. If you remain balanced, you remain aware, and if you remain aware, you will never lose your balance."

Tama squatted to pick up her staff and leaned upon it, trying to still her breathing. "Is there some sort of unwritten rule that Force-sensitive mentors and teachers have to be so kriffing cryptic when it comes to imparting their knowledge?"

Rayf chuckled. "There's actually a handbook we all ascribe to. You can find it on the HoloNet and download it to your datapad."

"What's it called? 'How to Teach Your Student and Drive Them Crazy At the Same Time'?"

"Acutally, 'How to Sound Like You Know Everything When You Don't Understand What You're Saying'. It was the Jedi Council's favorite reference text beside the Jedi Code...drove the entire Republic crazy, too."

"Look how well that turned out for them."

Rayf nodded solemnly. "Can't argue with that. Look, Tama, all I'm trying to tell you is to remain in constant contact and reliance upon the Force. To reach for it, but to let it reach for you as well. You feel the Force and you want to control it, want it to answer your will and your whims, but you have to recognize your place in it. You have to answer to its whims and will, let it carry you along in its flow. We are all alive and united in the Force, and the Force is in everything and everywhere you look. Let your body be the focus, the vessel in which the Force is found, working through you, and your footing will remain sure, your insight pure and true. Let go of yourself, and sooner than you think, you'll be able to knock meon my ass."

Tama nodded, giving him a distant smile. "I'll look forward to that day."

Rayf slapped her shoulder in a gesture of camaraderie and encouragement, then turned to Foyi, striking a dashing pose with his staff. "Cousin! You finished wandering about?"

"I wasn't wandering," Foyi replied irritably. "I was walking. And don't call me 'cousin'."

"Whatever you say, cousin."

Foyi approached Tama, laying a cautious palm along her sweaty cheek. "I saw you practicing. You've improved in almost every aspect so quickly; I could feel you in the Force, your power, your focus, and the peace with which you direct your efforts."

Tama smiled, but it was a hollow expression. She glanced at Rayf, who was retrieving his jacket and equipment belt from where he had hung them on a ragged stump at the edge of the clearing. "Despite appearances, Rayf is a great teacher. I'm learning a lot from him." Her eyes widened as a thought occurred to her. "I'm not saying that you're a bad teacher, or that I haven't learned anything from you. I'm just saying..."

Foyi raised a hand to still her worries. "It's okay, Tamam'buma. I understand. You've grown in the Force since Felucia, and if this is the best way to explore and develop your potential, then this is what you need to do. Even if it means enduring Rayf for hours at a time."

"You girls realize I'm still standing right here, you know," Rayf interjected as he maneuvered his arms into his jacket.

"I doubt you'd ever let us forget it," Foyi quipped.

Rayf grinned rakishly and shrugged. "What can I say? I'm indispensable."

"Oh?"

Rayf made a show of looking around, as though he were searching for another being not present. "I'm not seeing any other pilots around here...are you?"

Foyi crossed her arms over her chest. "I'm not such a bad pilot."

"You're not such a bad copilot. It'll be awhile before you can be considered the fighter jockey you seem to think you are."

Tama giggled, and Foyi could not quite keep a straight face as she replied in mock annoyance, "Says who?"

"Says your pilot. Also, captain and owner of the ship you fly around in free of charge."

"Speaking of flying," Foyi remarked, redirecting the conversation as she looked at Tama. "Have you heard from Venec or Nuri?"

The tips of Tama's lekku curled upward in agreement. "Nuri said they should be on Rishi in a day or two. They had to make a detour around Bothan Space, as well as being slowed down by more than one 'Imperial entanglements'. But they're okay now, and on their way."

Rayf nodded, shifting his staff from one hand to the other. "Good. Then we'll have some more creds to work with...which would be nice, considering we're all running low, and my baby could use some more fuel before we lift off." He snapped his fingers as something jogged his memory, and turned excitedly to face Foyi. "Hey, Foyi, I just remembered...there's something I wanna show you. Something I've been working on for a few days." Without another word, he turned and trotted up the Firespray's boarding ramp, disappearing through the open hatch and into the ship's interior.

Foyi gave Tama a bemused gaze. "Are you coming too?"

Tama shook her head, spinning her staff slowly about her wrist. "I'm fine. I think I know what he wants to show you, and if I'm right, I've already seen it. Go ahead; I'll just be out here, practicing."

Foyi looked to the ship, then back at her sister indecisively. "You're sure you're fine?"

Tama nodded more insistently as she turned away, moving off to give herself plenty of room to swing her staff. "I'm sure. I'll be out here if you need me."

"Okay," Foyi replied softly. She could feel the melancholy sensation descending upon her sister, the mournful eddies that rippled from her consciousness, even as the core of her presence hid beneath the waves, shutting out her sister's concerns. Ever since rescuing her from Felucia and the clutches of the Shepherd, Tama had become more withdrawn, quiet, unwilling to let anyone get too close to estimating exactly what she was feeling at any given moment. Foyi had known that if she had been successful in rescuing her sister, Tama would not be the same person she had known before she was kidnapped; no one survived the terrors she did and went back to life like nothing had happened. But Foyi had not prepared herself for the sheer helplessness she felt whenever she tried to get her sister to open up to her. Whenever she tried to convince her that everything was going to be alright, that she was safe, and Tama could count on her for as long as either one of them lived. Foyi lingered for a moment, biting her lower lip as Tama began putting her body and her staff through several deliberate and precise maneuvers, practicing martial forms that were occasionally punctuated by minor Force pushes, pulls, and telekinetic gestures.

Dejectedly, Foyi turned and strode up the ramp, to find Rayf waiting for her, learning just inside the hatch so that he could have a clear view of what was occurring outside. Foyi moved to the opposite side of the hatch and similarly peered out, watching Tama as she fought imaginary enemies, her eyes closed most of the time, her movements alternating quick and slow. Foyi turned to Rayf, her mouth set in a thin line of worry. "I'm worried about her, Rayf. She's not coping well. I don't know how to reach her...I'm here for her, but she keeps pushing me away, and I'm not sure she even realizes she's doing it. Or maybe she does, and thinks she has to face whatever she's feeling alone."

Rayf nodded sadly. "I've seen this before; felt it before. It's survivor's guilt, I think. She probably keeps thinking about all the other kids who didn't make it, and wonders why she was lucky enough to escape. The fact that she's Force-sensitive doesn't help matters either, because now she's putting a greater responsibility on her shoulders for those who died. I believe she feels that if she had only been stronger, had only practiced more, or knew more about the Force, she could done more for the other kids. More could have survived. It's why she practices so hard, why she's so eager to learn. She wants to expand her Force powers; she wants to become powerful enough to make certain she is never at the mercy of a madman again, and if she is, she wants to be strong enough to fight back, to save herself and others." He sighed and shifted his weight upon his opposite foot. "All we can do Foyi is be here for her. Guide her, comfort her, and learn to step back when we need to. It hasn't even been two months since Felucia...she needs time, and we need to give her all the time she could possibly need. We must be patient, we must be supportive, and we must be cautious. Despair, grief, and a loss of confidence are often more insidious than the Dark Side, and she is at risk of succumbing to all those right now."

Foyi nodded. She could feel the rising pain of emotion in her chest as she watched her sister pass through a dazzling display of kicks, twirls, and slashes that ended in a powerful stab, before she brought her staff back to a vertical guard before her, her body perfectly poised. "I'll be here for her," Foyi replied in barely more than a whisper. "Whatever she needs...however long...whatever it takes. She'll get better." She reluctantly peeled her gaze from her sister, then looked to Rayf again. "Now, what did ya want to show me?"

Rayf startled, then grinned. "Oh yeah!" He picked up a parcel which he had leaned against the wall beside him, and undid the clasps to reveal the silvery-white hilt of the lightsaber that had once belonged to Inquisitor Vinaq. He dropped the pouch and offered the grip of the lightsaber to her, his grin practically radiant. "Switch it on."

Foyi took the proffered weapon and backed away slightly so that she might have plenty of room to activate the dangerous blade. The blade sprang into existence with a snap-hiss, but instead of suffusing the corridor with the scarlet glow she expected, a wash of forest green bathed the metal surfaces, surrounding a core of deepest night. She waved the blade back and forth, the darkness of its core and the green of its ambient illumination creating strange competing glows of emerald and shadow. Foyi stared into the blade in fascination. "I thought...I thought the blade was always white..."

"This is an ancient color crystal," Rayf explained. "I don't know how old, but definitely thousands of years. I read stories in the Jedi Archives about Jedi and Sith alike wielding sabers with dark blades during the Galactic War, and so I'm assuming the color crystal you gave me is from that time period. I've spent the better part of the week extracting the old synthetic crystal from the hilt and attuning and reshaping this one until it worked properly. I wanted you to see it, since you made this possible." He reached forward and gripped her wrist gently. "Thanks by the way. I really appreciate it."

She switched the weapon off and handed it back to him, letting her hand brush his for a moment longer than necessary as she did so. "I thought you might like it. Though I wonder what you intend to do with it, now that that lightsaber is more to your...tastes."

He rolled the hilt about in his hands, studying it with a loving and longing gaze. "Well, I'm definitely keeping it around. Not everyone's forgotten the Jedi completely, no matter how much Palpatine wishes that were so. Could be useful, from time to time, in all kinds of situations."

"Could make us a target," Foyi replied grimly.

Rayf shrugged. "We're already a target. Yuelo will wear our faces for hats if he ever catches wind of us again, and by now, Vinaq's likely told the entire Inquisitorius about us. No matter where we go, we're going to have to be careful. Check our rear scopes all the time. Having this changes none of that, but it might help us when we encounter those still sympathetic to Force-users, who remember what the Jedi were and what they were meant to be. Plus, I like the idea of having a lightsaber attuned to me, even if I never got the opportunity to build one of my own." He hooked the lightsaber to his belt, not caring that it was displayed so openly when in the privacy of his ship, and amongst friends.

Rayf and Foyi stood in the corridor for a moment, staring out at Tama again as an awkward silence settled between them. Foyi broke it by clearing her throat and announcing her desire for some caf, which Rayf echoed. The pair walked back to the ship's lounge and set about brewing the hot, stimulating drink, filling the small space with its pleasant aroma. They sat beside each other on the crash couch, both gripping a heated mug between their palms and sipping at their contents quietly.

Foyi found herself staring down at the empty dejarik table for several, lengthy moments, her thoughts racing about her head at lightspeed, her emotions a sea of churning, frothy waves. "What do we do after this, Rayf?"

Rayf gave her a quizzical glance. "After we drink our caf? We...um...we drink more caf!"

Foyi shook her head with a chuckle. "I mean, what happens next? Where do we go? What do we do? Who are we now? All my life, I have moved from short-term goal to short-term goal, simply trying to survive Yanibar's storms and predators, trying to keep away from the Empire, trying to be sister, mother, and mentor to Tama. And now...I don't know what to do. I can't go back to Yanibar...at least, not to the town I came from. I caused too many problems with the Imperial garrison back there, and there're too many people who know Tama and I, too many...memories. Things I did I'm not proud of. Things the Empire did to the Zeison Sha." She trailed off, having nothing more to say, and somehow finding that disheartening.

Rayf stared into his mug and nervously cleared his throat. "Well, Foyi...I've been thinking on taking on a small crew. I've always been able to make by on my own so far, but you know, it doesn't hurt to have some backup. I mean, I could use a decent copilot, and someone I can actually tell my lame jokes and spacers' tales to. And some of the jobs I take on...well, they get difficult with just one set of hands, and Force knows I could always use the credits. Joyriding through hyperspace and keeping an extremely rare ship in one piece ain't cheap, you know."

Foyi felt her heart skip a beat as excitement and uncertainty flooded her consciousness. "Are you...asking us to come with you?"

Rayf gave her a hopeful grin, though she could feel uncertainty rolling off of him like surf from a beach. "Family...should stay together. Right, cousin?"

"We're not cousins," Foyi replied automatically. She turned away from him, considering the offer, considering her potential future, traveling all about the galaxy with this man and her sister. A trio of Force-users in a galaxy bent on destroying them or corrupting them. Perhaps, together, they might have a chance at a life free of fear and tyranny, a life they might never know by themselves. Her tchun tucked itself about her throat in contemplation. "But...what would we do?"

"What does anyone else in this galaxy do?" Rayf asked.

Foyi blinked. "They live."

Rayf nodded. "We live. We make our own way in the universe. We follow the Force, let it guide us, and maybe, maybe it leads us to someone who needs our help. Someone only we can help. Like when it guided me to you." He turned to her, setting his caf on the dejarik table, then gripped her right hand with both of his. "We live together because none of it's worth a cargo hold of Hutt drool if we live alone."

Foyi grimaced around her smile. "Thanks for the mental image." She considered his hands gripped around hers, then set her own caf down and placed her free hand atop his. She could feel strength, urgency, and unity in that contact. The same serenity he always exuded was there, but so too was anticipation, excitement, and apprehension. He had meant every word he had just said with every fiber of his being, and his hope that she might accept was a palpable wave roaring against her consciousness. She met his eyes and let a wide smile reach her face as she subconsciously communicated her affirmation, never being more certain of a decision in her entire life. "We have to ask Tama what she wants to do. I won't make a decision for her."

"I like the idea," came Tama's voice, causing both of them to jump. She had stepped through the hatch into the lounge, her tunic and pants drenched in sweat, her gait weak and uncertain as she crossed the floor. But her intense gaze held the barest hint of light within the depths of her eyes, the sense of wonder, the longing for adventure indicative of the girl she had once been rising from the morass of dark emotions that seemed to plague her. For that briefest of moments, Tama, the girl she had known and loved all her life, emerged from the shroud she hid herself behind, and Foyi knew then that this course of action presented them was the right thing to do.

"Then we stick together?" Rayf asked hopefully.

Foyi and Tama nodded simultaneously as Tama took a seat at the dejarik table. "We live," Foyi intoned.

Tama cleared her throat, the ghost of a smile quirking the corners of her mouth. "We go where the Force guides us." She eyed the cups of caf sitting on the table, then gave Rayf an expectant regard. "So, what do I have to do to get a cup of that?"

"Pour it yourself," Foyi replied mischievously. Tama reached for the carafe, but Foyi raised a finger. "With the Force."

Tama gave her an obstinate stare and crossed her arms. The air rippled and groaned about the table, and the carafe suddenly rose into the air, hovering with a minor wobble as it floated over to an empty mug, then tipped itself enough to pour a generous quantity of the liquid. The carafe set itself down, and the newly-filled mug skirted across the table to Tama's waiting hand, which she used to bring it to her lips and drink heartily of the scalding liquid. During this entire sequence of events, Tama's stubborn gaze never removed itself from Foyi's, and Foyi could not help but let out a laugh. Rayf joined with his own chuckles as Tama made a squeak of discomfort as she realized her obstinacy had gotten the better of her and prompted her to swallow hard to get the boiling caf out of her mouth. Once she could speak again, she uttered a curse that instantly made Foyi glare at her, though Rayf only laughed all the harder. Tama simply treated her sister to a smile that was almost radiant, and was so familiar.

Though Foyi glared at her impertinent sister, inwardly, she thought she might burst with joy. Her sister would be alright. She had found a friend whom she could count on for anything, who consistently made her life interesting. And she had found a purpose, one she could share with the two people she cared about the most in the galaxy.

The Force was with them. And it was good.