Ask Coruscant Ship Confirmed

[Hannibal Grayza]

He'd finally done it. The young Knight had finally found the Arcanist's ship. All it took was for the guy to be in the hospital week on a planet with abundant cameras and security and a certain amount of stubborn. He'd been able to get into the docking bay itself, of course, but had no way of actually getting into the craft. Not that he needed to, he was just curious. He had a bet with himself about how much black was in the the guy's wardrobe. So instead, Hannibal had sat himself on a bench right near the door and waited. He had a strong feeling the Arcanist would show up. Was it really the Arcanist if he wasn't wearing that stupid antique mask? Hannibal was sure asking would spark some discussion or other.

Hannibal had woken in a hospital as well, the same as the Arcanist in fact, but his injuries were far less severe and he was discharged much earlier. Between the bacta treatments and his own healing trances, the Knight had managed to heal his varied burns to his liking. The scars resulting from the prisoner's lightning grip on his arm mostly remained, arcing lines up his right arm and slightly out from his shoulder. The burns he earned stopping the Arcanist and himself from being incinerated by a powerful darksider were healed far more completely, though he'd intentionally made them heal unevenly, forming marks that resembled coiling flames themselves while the rest healed cleanly. He'd already booked appointments with his tattoo artist to get them inked in and retouch the burned away portions. He would keep these scars as a reminder of his success, and of his failure.

His usual tunic was worn, along with the usual gloves, tattooed and injured arms wrapped in bacta bandages to prevent infection while they healed. He'd left the fight at the prison as one of the least injured Jedi, others like Oren leaving half dead, and some like Nashyr not leaving at all. The doctors had been concerned about the whole 'passing out' thing, but he'd convinced them it was a Jedi thing and they'd eventually given up and just made sure he got plenty of food and fluids while he recovered.

Since the fight he'd been dwelling on events, probably a little more than was really healthy.

His senses had been cut off from the distant fighting, and he hadn't even felt Nashyr or Saul pass away. Nash had been one of Hannibal's closer friends, and learning she hadn't made it out was a solid blow. He'd begun a pointless internal debate about whether or not he should have stood before the darksiders in the front, whether it would have made a difference. He certainly wouldn't have been able to come to the Arcanist's aid if he hadn't gone after the prisoner, even if the man had managed to get away. A mixed success, at best. Could he have saved her life? He doubted it. By all accounts, she'd be targeted by an alarmingly powerful darksider. Hannibal had barely been able to handle a tired one.

Hannibal could still remember the song that had played when he first met Nash and danced on Nar Shaddaa, the warmth of her hands in his. She was missed. He wished he'd been able to say good bye. "May the tiger sleep at last, and find peace in the embrace of the Force." he thought to himself, shaking his head to clear it and attempting to reassert his expression. He was finding it was harder than usual to keep a smile in place.

To distract himself he brushed the gloved fingers of his left hand over his belt and the two lightsabers clipped there. In the place of his stolen shoto was a red-bladed number that had been found in his grip along with his usual green. It was the Arcanist's and the source of even more trouble. Hannibal hadn't been able to sort out the rush of information he'd gotten from touching the thing, it would take quite a while to make any sense of it. In the meantime he should probably return it.

That's why Hannibal was here, of course. It certainly wasn't because he was curious about the Arcanist's ship, or because he was lonely, or because he was worried about a person who'd abandoned his people, been burned half to death, and gotten his arm chopped off. Definitely not.

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak made his way through the city of Coruscant and felt... maybe not quite "at peace" but not nearly as conflicted as he normally felt. The blue lightsaber hung from his belt without being hidden, and he'd grown oddly used to being able to publicly display it.

He'd visited with Trys, which had only put him in a better mood, and even if he'd lost his arm, things could have turned out worse at the prison. Trys was alive, he was alive, and he no longer felt like he was betraying himself.

He made it to the location that Artee had relayed to him and immediately felt something familiar. Rather someone familiar.

How long did it take to find this? he shouted as he came into the hangar bay. He didn't know where Hannibal would be, but his presence was unmistakable.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal stood up from his seat, hearing the Arcanist's voice and heading towards it from somewhere off to the side. He was plainly visible, especially considering the stuff he wore, and his grin widened as he got closer. "Yo! If it isn't the Hero of Justice himself!" he shouted back, all laughter and jokes like he was supposed to be even if his eyes lack their usual energetic gleam. "A week! Not counting prior attempts, natch." he replied breezily to the Arcanist's question, eyeing up the other man. He hadn't gotten much of a chance to actually get a good look at him at the prison, what with the circumstances, having mostly recognized him by his impression in the Force.

He took note of the new prosthetic arm in particular, though he also couldn't help noticing the general feeling around him had changed a little. "How's the arm?" he asked, looking over the mechanical limb and silently judging its construction. "It's not one of those cheap ones, is it?"

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

Uncertainty was probably the best word to describe Talak. Or perhaps skepticism. Sure, he had helped the Jedi, they had killed a Champion, but that didn't mean that he'd be welcomed by anyone with open arms.

Still, Hannibal had helped save his life. He would undoubtedly be dead today were it not for the Jedi's efforts, so he probably should be appreciative. And truthfully, he was... below the slightly brooding exterior.

He held up his right arm at the question and looked down at the dull silver color. It was an adjustment, and he would have to get used to saber fighting with it.

It's... fine, he said. In reality, the prosthetic was quite advanced and could almost entirely mimic a real limb. He knew he would adjust to it in time, but it took some getting used to.

I'm going to need to practice dueling with it, he said, letting it drop to his side. I was going to do that now, actually, he said. He had sparring droids on board his ship that he used for practice. It would have been a good place to start.

So what brings you out here? Here to arrest me? he asked, quirking an eyebrow. The last time they'd met the mask had prevented Hannibal from seeing his face, but now he would be able to see that Talak actually had quite dynamic facial expressions when he wanted to. He didn't think Hannibal was here to arrest him, but better to clear the air right away.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal tilted his head slightly, smirking cheekily. "That's probably for the best. Don't wanna lose the other one 'cause you can't keep your guard up, right? Need a hand with that?"he joked, looking at the limb a moment more before his eyes turned back to the Arcanist's face. So he did make faces. This was a prime opportunity, for sure.

Or at least it would be if Hannibal could find the energy to keep up with it. He'd been keeping his smile intact on his face since he'd gotten out of the hospital and for the week he'd taken to find the Arcanist's ship, dealing with random people who recognized him from the news, dockworkers, and anyone else he had to speak to. He was getting tired of the crowds.

Hannibal rose an eyebrow in turn and adopted a comically bemused expression, hands on hips. "Arrest you? Why would I do that?" He shook his head, almost failing to switch back to a smirk in time for his next statement. "Jedi are the keepers of the peace, not the law. Ah! But..."

His left hand went to his belt, gloved fingers hesitating for a moment before closing around a lightsaber and unclipping it. It was the Arcanist's lightsaber, the crystal inside still soaked in the darkness and pain. Hannibal held it up, the business end pointed left, and offered it forward.

"You're a warrior, as I recall. You might want your weapon." He unclasped his fingers, balancing the hilt on his open palm, free to take. Hannibal handled the thing like it was made of glass. The rush of Force impressions he'd gotten off of it had made him wary, reminding him of why he usually wore gloves in the first place. He'd probably have to address some of those eventually.

Obviously he should re-arm the man first in case he felt like stabbing him.

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak shrugged and said Maybe in response to Hannibal's offer of help with sparring. Whether it was a joke or not, genuine, organic Force users were better to duel against than some bot. Hannibal may have just signed himself up for a practice duel by mistake.

Well at least he wasn't here to arrest Talak. That was a step in the right direction, and although his stance slackened slightly, when he reached for a lightsaber on his belt, Talak couldn't help tensing slightly and his hand started moving toward the lightsaber on his belt before recognizing the hilt design that Hannibal produced.

The wave of pleasant surprise and relief that washed over him would be evident in the Force. He'd thought his saber had been lost or confiscated after he lost consciousness. He'd expected never to see it again.

He took a step forward and took the offered hilt in his hand, its familiar weight instantly offering him a sense of relief and joy.

I didn't think I'd ever see it again, he said quietly, before looking up at Hannibal.

Thank you, he said. He held the hilt in his hand and transitioned it to his "new" hand. He took a step back from Hannibal so as not to make him too nervous and glanced around to make sure no one was around to see before igniting the blade in his hand and looking up at it. He flourished it several times as he tried to adjust it to his new hand before turning it off again.

I'll adjust, he said after a moment. He knew it would take some time, but these prosthetics were quite impressive. He replaced the hilt on his belt a moment later.

Thank you for stepping in at the prison, he added awkwardly a moment later. He had no illusions about the result of that fight had the Knight not stepped in. Talak had fought hard and well, he'd worn the Champion down, but he would have eventually been killed and whatever redemption he might yet find would have ended there.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Oh, seriously? Well at least they wouldn't be enemies this time. Hannibal hadn't exactly expected a positive answer, but he'd take it. Maybe he could finally get the dude to take some shots with him while he was at it.

Hannibal felt the reaction through the Force, something he'd never before anticipated feeling from the man he'd be chasing after for quite some time now. They certainly had something of an unusual history, often at odds but never quite on the opposite side of things. Hannibal had asked the Arcanist about his mask that night long ago on Nar Shaddaa, about why he wore it and what it meant. Perhaps, despite his answer, Hannibal hadn't been entirely wrong after all.

"You're welcome. It's caused me enough trouble as is." he replied without context. The weapon had been by the Arcanist's side for so long, it didn't really matter how quickly or deeply Hannibal could read an object or how sharp his memory was. He was still in the stage of unwanted reminders of memories that weren't his when he looked at things, flashes of emotion and tidbits of knowledge he'd never personally experienced. He quietly hoped that its dark history wasn't sticking to him at the very least. He didn't need that right now, when his focus was at its lowest.

"What else was I to do in that situation? I-" he froze, almost saying "I think she'd kill me if I hadn't" out loud. He didn't over know who 'she' was, briefly lost in in a mix of emotions and a distinct smell he didn't recognize, confusion tinged with what he saw pinging through the Force. He quickly reasserted himself, blinked after a moment, and turned his eyes to look at the Arcanist's.

"I don't regret doing it. Enough was lost." He was being honest. The Arcanist had fought and nearly died to stop the slaughter, to protect innocent lives. It's what he'd always done, just not against other darksiders. The other man had come out of it in nearly as bad a shape as Oren had, in fact. Perhaps no one really was beyond redemption after all.

"Though I never thought I'd almost die fighting side by side with a Dark Jedi." he said, offering up a friendly smile.

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak frowned as he mentioned that the blade had caused him trouble. It was a lightsaber, how much trouble could it be?

Trouble? he asked. He noticed that Hannibal also abruptly cut off his sentence, but without any idea what he was about to say, he didn't give it a second thought.

Almost die fighting side by side with a Dark Jedi. Talak hadn't expected to nearly die fighting side by side with a Jedi. How the galaxy seemed to always be changing and evolving.

Neither did I, he said, running a hand through his hair. None of this was how he had expected his life to turn out, and while he didn't regret it, he still hoped that he hadn't made a mistake.

So what'll it be? Chat and spar or chat and drink? he asked. He wondered if he had some intention in coming here besides just returning the saber. He suspected if that was all it was then he would have found another way. No, Talak suspected something more.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal considered his options for a few moments. He a good spar might get some of the residual fuzz out of his head, plus he'd be helping out the Arcanist. But at the same time, drinking might make it easier to broach an uncomfortable subject. Decisions, decisions. In the end, he chose not to choose.

"Why not both? We can share our troubles and engage in some jolly cooperation, followed by drinks. That sounds like a solid a plan, if you ask me. Which you did." His reply was chipper and energetic, regathering himself at the thought of a distraction from recent events. What could go wrong?

"Ah, but. Any chance I could get a name this time?" he asked, grinning slyly at the other man. Last time he'd asked they'd essentially been enemies, and naturally the Arcanist hadn't given him one beyond his crime-fighting title. Hannibal would prefer to not refer to him without a name at this point. It seemed a little pointless to hide his identity now that his face was out in the open.

"I can't call you Magic Man forever, y'know."

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak shrugged at the suggestion to do both. That worked well enough for him. He waved a hand in the direction of the hangar door and it slid closed to give the two of them privacy.

He reached over and grabbed the lightsaber hilt with his hand and triggered the activator, letting it hum to life before triggering another button that transitioned the blade into a lower power, training setting. The red blade hummed, but didn't quite feel... normal anymore. He couldn't tell if it was because of the hand that held it or the intonation of the crystal itself.

He flourished the blade several times as he stepped back from the Jedi, getting the feel for the blade again. The movements weren't choppy, but they weren't as fluid as he would have liked. He pulled up the sleeve of his robes a bit to watch the wrist closely.

After a moment, he looked back up again and at the man he was to spar against. Apart from the brief fight against the Champion (where Talak's mind had been occupied by other things) he knew almost nothing of the Jedi's dueling skill. But he managed to kill a Champion, right? Even against a weakened one that was impressive.

My name's Talak, he said. It was the first of the Jedi he had told his true name to, and it was likely a sign of things to come. He wasn't yet sure if they'd be "his" people, but they were at least no longer enemies.

So what, does this make us friends now? he quipped. Raising his blade vertically in front of his face in "salute" to signify he was ready to begin before letting the blade fall to his right side in a standard opening stance for Form X adopted from Makashi. He awaited an attack... and probably another question. Or perhaps not.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal flashed a charming smile and danced backwards with a little spin, left hand reaching down and unclipping his lightsaber from his belt. He dropped low in an over-dramatic bow, saber hand flourishing in front of his waist and right hand out to the side.

"Hannibal Grayza, Jedi Knight." he re-introduced himself, then stood back up to his full height. He tilted his head and laughed for a moment, doing his best to ignore the incessant whispers of the that name in his head in a hundred different voices for the first few seconds after Talak had introduced himself properly. Other than the psychometric echoes, this was going much better than their last introduction. Hannibal had a good feeling about this.

"Of course it does. You've never had a friend like me!" he responded in a sing-song voice, winking with a snap of his fingers while his left thumb flicked the power controls to training mode. His saber rose up before him, and just like that the way he held himself changed.

The brilliantly green blade snap-hissed into existence in front of his face and then flourished smoothly into the Makashi salute like he'd done a thousand times. His guard settled at his left side in a clear variation of Form X's Makashi guard. He nearly mirrored Talak himself, especially considering Hannibal was using the opposite hand. Despite his playful expression and tone of voice, his stance was quite serious, equal parts relaxed and ready to spring into action.

"A man of culture I see!" Hannibal said, "So what's the plan now?" In a flash he took a half step forward, saber making a sharp horizontal arc toward Talak's right side. It was a feint, Hannibal's wrist and elbow coiling back like a spring before shooting back forward into a reverse-edge downwards cut towards Talak's elbow from the opposite side, an attack designed to take advantage of a misplaced guard and strike with the last few inches of the weapon. Might as well test that arm!

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

He was quite into the theatrics, wasn't he? That was another thing that Talak didn't really understand, but he certainly had his own style and was unafraid of expressing it.

No, I haven't, he said deadpan.

He looked at Hannibal as he took a stance that was practically mirror to his own. It was an odd thing to watch and Talak suddenly wondered if Hannibal was actually left handed or if this was some sort of unsportsmanlike pity-move to accommodate the fact that Talak was using a prosthetic.

Before he could say anything, Hannibal was already moving. There was a horizontal cut to his right, and Talak's saber rotated from pointing to the ground to pointing to the sky before the angle of the cut was altered.

Rather than trying to outright beat his opponent to the defensive position, he slammed his right arm out toward his opponent. While Hannibal's blade was in transition toward the left side of Talak's body, the blades would impact and shove Hannibal's own blade back toward his face. With any luck it would cause his own left hand to smack himself in the face.

Regardless of whether it did, Talak was already moving. With their blades still locked together, Talak continued to drive against the blade. Any attempt at Trakata would leave Talak's blade to "cleave" through the Jedi.

Talak pivoted on his left foot and slammed his right down just behind Hannibal's left leg during the shove, looking to trip him as he was shoved back. Regardless of whether he fell or not, the shove was likely to put distance between them, and to ensure it, Talak leapt back himself.

You'd better be left handed. I'm not taking any of your "pity-fencing," he said with a scowl.

He took the opportunity to flex his wrist several times, practicing quick, flicking type strikes against the air. His foot work and even much of his arm movements hadn't changed, but it was the wrist that had altered. And also it was the wrist that was one of the invaluable parts of Form X.

So, Jedi, he said, pausing his strikes to look up at Hannibal. Do you all have a lot of "rules" you're supposed to follow? he asked. As he understood it they did, but he didn't know what had changed in the many times they had been broken and reformed over the millennia.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal let a short, barking laugh, eyes flashing as Talak checked his feint. His weight shifted from left to right, right foot stepping right and forward. His blade hand's wrist twisted against the impact and his arm coiled back to absorb the hit, leaving him in a close but solid guard with the point of the lightsaber facing forward inside the lock at an angle. The end result was Hannibal ending up in a reverse guard, coiled to strike. Or at least he would be if Talak hadn't been pressing into his guard, which kept him from getting the correct attack angle.

As Talak stepped in to enforce his shove he adjusted his feet to side-left face and stepped back, about to thrust forward, but Talak had already planned his retreat and leapt back. Hannibal tutted, then straightened his stance in response to the new distance. While this could be considered a 'guard' of sorts, it was rather more menacing than most, one that excelled at counter-thrusts and cuts using good foot and wrist work. Naturally, Hannibal had to ruin the image by winking and placing his right hand on his hip like one a swashbuckler.

"I do not pity you, my one-armed wonder. I always fight left-handed. Fought those two Sith left-handed, didn't I?" Something of a non-answer, seeing as he didn't actually specify his handedness. At the very least his bladework with his left hand didn't seem uncoordinated.

"Rules? Some. The Jedi Code is open to some interpretation, and not every Jedi treats the lifestyle the same way." He waved his right hand over himself, his multi-colored but practically cut robes, general attitude, and frequent use of a blaster an excellent example of what he meant. Some Jedi would go for limb-chopping, others preferred non-lethal weaponry, others chose to use no weapons at all.

"More like guidelines in some cases, really. The old Order was, uh... Well, I wouldn't fit in from what I've heard, let's put it that way." Dogmatic was probably the word he was thinking of. Trained from children, suppressing passions and personality, can't have attachments? Not much love for the human experience, the old Order. Hannibal edged forward a half-step, maintaining his aggressive guard.

"Some Jedi like to do whatever the Council says, but I prefer to take their orders as suggestions. Most of them are a little too contemplative for my taste." He paused a moment, pensive. Would bringing up the psychometry thing now be more distracting or stab-inducing? He'd have to bring it up delicately. Didn't want to shock the poor man. Best to ease into it.

"So, are you seeing anyone?" Perfect. Nailed it.

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

I was a little preoccupied, he said, admitting he hadn't been paying much attention to what hand Hannibal had been using. When nearly dying to a Champion, it was pretty low on his priority list. He was certainly correct that the blade work wasn't sloppy.

He listened to what the Knight said about being a Jedi. He watched as the Jedi took an advancing step and Talak took a step backward to mimic it in the opposite direction. It was a Makashi-esque exchange of advance and retreat on a straight line.

Guidelines? It actually didn't sound too different from being in the Sith Eternal... except all the murdering and the dark side.

Sounds more lax than I'd expect? he said with a frown. And what's the Jedi goal? I mean your real goal, not the party line? he asked, continuing his retreat as the other man would advance.

He frowned as Hannibal asked if he was seeing anyone. He assumed it was meant to throw him off guard. What a Jedi version of Dun Moch? Hoping to lure him into a strike? That was what he assumed.

Well, since you must know, I... he started, luring Hannibal in before striking. His blade lashed from his own left to right, not aiming for Hannibal's body, but for his blade, batting it up and to the side. A split second later, he flicked his wrist and snapped the blade back down to aim to graze the inside of his opponent's wrist. His own blade was positioned to block out Hannibal's blade and protect his own arm from a similar strike. Makashi? he asked.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Hannibal admitted Talak had a point. He did seem to have been a tad bit preoccupied by the thorough toasting he'd been getting at the time. In retrospect, it wasn't surprising he hadn't noticed.

"The goal is many things, depending on the Jedi in question. Gather knowledge, fight crime, explore the galaxy, meditate on the Force." Jedi were a varied lot, from the way they went about their work to the way they had become Jedi. While the most famous were the ones who fought with a lightsaber, there were many others. They did good work, even if Hannibal thought the more spiritual types often needed a little more exercise and sunlight.

"But the overarching goal is to protect and preserve peace, ideally through peaceful means. But we're not the Baran Do. We will fight if we must." He paused a moment in his advance. "Though when that might be is the subject of some debate, as it is in any organization."

"...Am madly in love with you? I'm flattered!"Hannibal winked as Talak lashed forward mid-sentence. What kind of Dun Moch user would he be if he fell for his own tricks? He twirled his wrist and blade smoothly under the attempt to displace his guard, the horizontal positioning proving advantageous. He also stepped slightly to his right and forward to move off-line, continuing the circular blade evasion by whipping his wrist and elbow left in a sharp parry to impact the end third of Talak's lightsaber mid-swing using the strong beginning third of his own. The intent was to leverage Talak's strike and bounce the blade off-line in the opposite direction Hannibal had moved.

What followed was a upper left to low right cut aimed for Talak's right wrist to return the favor, a maneuver that both threatened his weapon arm and kept his own guard reasonably intact and was a variation of the stroke Talak himself had used.

Hannibal smiled in response to Talak's question. Certainly a good amount of his form was based on Makashi when it came to dueling, but without some of the flashier bits beyond the salute.

"Close! Form Ten, technically. Or Ecks. Or a subset or Form Six. It depends on who you ask, I s'pose." Hannibal was only really using the outfighting techniques of the form at the moment, but it included far more than that. It had been quite difficult to learn, but the young Knight enjoyed a challenge and his fiery youth had needed an outlet anyway. A good number of the other students had expected him to take up the flashier Form 4, but Hannibal hadn't appreciated the reliance on spinning or acrobatics. When it came to a fight he preferred the practical approach over anything else.

Getting to the awkward stuff was harder than he thought. Talak would understand, right? He seemed like a reasonable guy in the end, and it would probably be the friendly thing to do.

A bolt of lightning ran down Hannibal's spine and his skin felt like ice, just for a moment. Was his hand shaking? That probably wasn't good, he needed to keep a good grip while he was fighting. Didn't want to look bad in front of the new guy right?

"What are the Sith all about?" he asked, half distraction and half curiosity. He knew very little about them, and it felt only fair to ask at this point.

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

They barely even sounded like they had a unified goal. Fighting crime, exploration, meditation? These were't at all the same. Granted, the Sith Eternal had two diverging goals, but the overarching goal of each group was well-defined.

He got to the part about preserving peace, and that seemed... maybe a little abstract, but a good goal.

The who? he asked at the mention of the Baran Do. That was one sect he'd not yet run across in his studies.

Talak saw that his own quick strike had failed, and his own blade had lost leverage to resist his opponent's cut, so rather than resist it, Talak went with it. Rather than allow his entire arm to be batted, however, he let his wrist break out so that his blade would go to the outside and his right arm moved inward toward his own midline.

What this accomplished was angling his arm in such a way that where his wrist had been a moment ago was now the bottom third of his own blade. Their blades clashed against one another, and rather than try to recover his blade position, he capitalized on their body positions.

Hannibal had stepped toward him, and Talak's blade was - for a split second - to the inside of Hannibal's preventing an easy attack. With the magnetism of saber blades he would have to disengage entirely in order to make another flicking attack against Talak.

In that moment, Talak let the Force burst his speed and cover the meter or so of distance between them in a fraction of a second. His shoulder would slam into Hannibal within an instant and likely knock him over or at least back. Unless of course he managed to evade, in which case Talak would be ready to parry with his own blade. Or maybe he'd turn the momentum into his own fancy backflip. He knew some people could do that, and it'd look cool.

I'm quite familiar with it, he said, before something felt... horribly wrong in the Force. It was as if it came from Hannibal, and Talak once again leapt back and frowned.

What the kriff was that? he asked. Whatever had unnerved Hannibal in the Force had been all but broadcast, and Talak had picked up on it, now quite suspicious as they moved on to the Sith. It wasn't the "I'm going to actually try to stab you" suspicious so much as the "I'm a curious person and won't let up until I get some answers" type.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

"Sages and seers, mostly." Hannibal said in response to Talak asking who the Baran Do where, his counter blow prevented by a clever application of reversed momentum. That definitely wasn't a cheap model prosthetic if it could keep up with this stuff.

Then Talak moved in for a Force-boosted shoulder check. Hannibal felt the Force surge and reacted quickly, fortifying himself and intent on leaving his opponent a parting gift for moving in close. His free right hand shot out, aiming for a sharp hook to the outside of Talak's left ribs.

Was Talak always wearing a breath mask? Hannibal blinked, hesitating for a fraction of a second hook mid-way, but it was enough to prevent it from happening with the speed of Talak's charge. Hannibal leaned back against the shoulder tackle, his lightsaber sliding against Talak's. He was sent into a Force-guided backflip, legs tucked for the spin and brought back down, boots thumping firmly on the hangar bay floor back in left-front position a good few meters away.

Now that he got another good look, Talak was definitely not wearing a breath mask. Which would make sense, seeing as he wasn't a kel'dor. He blinked again, realizing he'd let the smile slip after Talak asked him what had happened. He put it back in place, smiling in a friendly fashion.

"A backflip. Never seen one before?" he responded breezily, then sighed and let his expression melt down to a slightly strained smirk. His face hurt anyway, and it's not like he was going to be able to hide this sort of thing forever. Might as well get it over with.

"I read your lightsaber when I grabbed it." he said rather matter of factly, right hand moving over to his left to try and get his fingers to stop shaking. "I don't wear these for the sake of fashion. I have reactive psychometry." He was referring to his gloves, indicated by a wiggling of the fingers on his right hand. Of course the reading itself wasn't precisely the problem, though it was distracting. It was just another thing in the pile.

"So, among other things, I felt the Sith die. Sorry." A person's lightsaber was a somewhat intimate thing after all, and he hadn't meant to go as deep as he did even when he was trying to get it from him the first time. He'd intended to read Talak's intent, not his backstory, something he had much better control of when he wasn't making direct contact. Whoops.

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

Talak's wrist seemed to be working. In fact, it was working about as well as he could have hoped. He transitioned the saber to his other hand and let it flash out as he flexed his wrist again. It was enough to know that it was working if and when he actually dueled a real Sith again.

He scowled as the man tried to divert the question with talking about a backflip. He wasn't going to fall for that and he wasn't going to let it go. It must have been obvious on his face because Hannibal actually told him the truth a moment later.

You karking what?! he asked. Perhaps the man hadn't been able to control it. Talak wasn't psychometric, but he had a hard time believing the man couldn't control it at all. Of course, he was mistaken, but that wasn't what he was worried about at the moment. What he was worried about was "feeling the Sith die."

If he had read Talak's saber, that could have been connected to several different things. He took a deep breath to contain himself, but he had been a Sith only until recently. Anger management was still a work in progress, but something he'd always tried to keep under control anyway. His fear was that it was something related to Talak's early days... his late training involving Zatara or his late master. But Talak hadn't killed either of them. Or Sol for that matter.

Whose death did you feel? he asked stiffly a moment later.

 

[Hannibal Grayza]

Well, he was upset. At least he wasn't trying to stab him or shoot him full of lightning. That was definitely a start.

Hannibal paused a few moments before answering. Whose? There had been other impressions of death in general, being as it was a Sith weapon and all, but they were unsorted and hadn't really been brought to the fore yet. There was a ton of information to sort through that he hadn't even been awake for, even if he got flashes of it in situations that seemed connected somehow.

"The one who set you on fire in the prison. The one who suffocated." he clarified. For a moment his skin ran cold and he felt as if he couldn't breath, poisoned by the very air, and then it passed just as quickly. "There's more, but Psychometry isn't what I would call a precise art. I barely understand most of it." At the rate he was going it was going to take him months to sort out all the random impressions he was left with, and in the meantime it was incredibly distracting.

But that was less important compared getting flashes of the end of that fight. That was the most troublesome part, the very reason Hannibal fought the way he did. Death echoed in the Living Force, and so Hannibal avoided killing, afraid he'd become numb to it the way his mother was.

"But I might eventually, later."

@Phoenix

 

[Talak Rand]

Sol's death, Talak thought. There was some form of relief in that, but only a little. Who knew what else he'd seen on Talak's saber? That weapon went with him everywhere for years. He took to heart the statement that that weapon was his life, but then, Hannibal had actually saved his life. The reminder forced Talak into a slightly calmer state when combined with the realization that he'd only seen Sol's death.

He could feel conflict within the Jedi perhaps as a result of whatever he'd seen. Talak replaced the saber hilt on his belt, but didn't move right away. Perhaps it was time for that drink.

Wait here and get a seat, he said grumpily pointing over to a handful of crates at the far side of the hangar bay as he went into his ship and appeared a minute late with a pair of glasses and a bottle of wine.

It was a Nabooian wine that wasn't too expensive. He'd almost grabbed the Alderaanian, but this wasn't the situation he wanted to drink his bottle of 130+ year old wine. He poured them both a glass and took a drink of his own as he had a seat.

What'd you see on my saber? he asked, only narrowly pulling up short of outright demanding to be told. He was trying to be polite despite the obvious frustration he felt at having his privacy violated. It probably wasn't his fault... maybe.