The Lost Blade

[Raif]

There was a small cantina on a small planet in the Outer Rim. In a spare room behind the cantina, paying his way by hauling junk at the local scrap heap, had lived a mysterious little being for the last ten or so years. He was reptilian in appearance, but bore the grievous wounds of a battle previously fought and barely survived: his left hand ended in a stump just above the wrist, and a deep gouge furrowed the left side of his face from cheek to what would have been a hairline if his species had any. The facial gouge left him missing his eye on that side of the face, and so when his face could be glimpsed at all beneath his deep hood, there was always a scrap of cloth covering the dark, gaping hole in his face.

No one in the small settlement knew his name. He was simply him to most, though they didn't mind him. He was polite in a quiet and almost creepy way, he kept to himself, and perhaps because of his rather formidable aura, there hadn't been much in the way of typical Outer-Rim hooligan trouble in their little slice of dirt.

Unbeknownst to them - or, indeed, even him, for he had long ago repressed memories of his former life to cover the shock and pain of the defeat that had left him mutilated - he was not just a quiet little reptile.

He was a Jedi.

He was a Blade Master.

He was Tytos. And though he didn't know it, he had recently been the target of a very thorough and exhausting search. A search which was shortly coming to an end.

 

[Wit]

In a Galaxy of trillions, searching for a single being was no easy task, it was like searching for a needle in a haystack. Of course if you were resourceful enough even that wasn't all that tough, all you needed was a magnet and your needle would come to you. And Hal Farstrider was nothing if not resourceful, and in the Force he had one heck of a magnet. Of course things weren't as simple as that, his haystack was much, much larger and he wasn't really sure where to point the magnet.

He had never met his query, which made seeking them out through the Force all that harder, he had no connection, no link he could use to point his magnet. So he had resorted to simple investigative techniques, pulling out records of known sightings, pinpointing his last confirmed sighting and sending out a web from there. A Noghri might be a common sight for some, but for most denizens of the Galaxy the small reptilian species would be an unique sight. So he if he couldn't find his query he sought out rumours, stories that would surely have spread in his wake. It had taken him some time, but he had slowly and meticulously worked his way through the pile of data he had collected and come up with a handful of likely locations. After that it had been a simple matter of getting one of the older folk who actually remembered him to do some snooping to try and see if any of the locations gave them a Force ping, turned out one did.

He had spent part of his trip over doing some meditating of his own, trying to get some clues from the Force if he was on the right path, the ol magnet wasn't giving him any definite answers but it seemed to be telling him he was on the right path. Once he had made planetfall things had started getting much more interesting. Finding a presence, even a Jedi's presence, in the Galaxy was difficult, but if you deceased the focus of your search to say a planet, well then things could get a lot easier. This was a Jedi Master he was looking for, and a powerful one at that. A presence that strong shone out in the Force, a beacon that he had been able to latch on to the moment he had stepped out of his ship.

As he stepped into the cantina and was bombarded by the sights and smells of the establishment, he wondered if he ought to have sent someone else to do this. He had been assigned the task when he was but a knight, but since his surprise climb up the corporate ladder, he suddenly had the authority that wold have allowed him to send someone else in his stead. But it hadn't felt right to him, this was his task, he had started it, he would see it through. Besides, sitting behind a table, managing logistics and paperwork wasn't really his thing. He was much happier out and about, doing his thing, preferably on his own.

Walking up to the bartender, he ordered a drink before slipping a few credcoins across the counter to him, well more than the cost of the drink. "Say, you haven't seen a Noghri moving around these parts, have you?"

 

[Raif]

The bartender was a large...human? Maybe? He was covered with so much dark, wiry hair that it was hard to tell. And he didn't seem to be much of a talker, either. He glared at the Human Jedi as he asked his question, doing nothing but polishing a dirty mug with a dirtier rag. He seemed to chew Hal's request over for a bit, then finally jerked his head toward the corner where the Noghri was sitting.

The Noghri, meanwhile, had immediately given Hal the once over as soon as he'd entered the cantina. It was something he just seemed to do on instinct, assessing the threat level of anyone who came near him. The old, battered Noghri didn't like it, but he didn't even remember why he reacted that way.

He sat as still as a statue on his stool, his single remaining hand wrapped tightly around a mug of steaming tea. For the time being, at least, he didn't appear to be drinking it, simply letting the heat of the mug warm his palm. The reptile's nostrils flared as he saw the bartender point him out from the corner of his eye.

He didn't know why, but something about the offworlder seemed both familiar and foreboding. The Noghri felt like there was an itch on the back of his neck that he couldn't reach.

He would growl slightly as the stranger approached, but otherwise would give no outward sign of caring about the human.

 

[Wit]

Hal weaved his way through the cantina to the noghri, a clear look at his that was afforded to him when the crowd in front of him shifted favourably was all he needed to confirm that he was indeed who Hal had been searching for. Jedi Master Tytos, one time Blade Master of the New Jedi Order. Some people had difficulty differentiating between different individuals of certain species, Hal had grown up around beings of so many species that he never really had that problem. And the fact that he had spent months going through records and sightings of his noghri query meant that he was very closely familiar with the face he was searching for, even if the ravages of war had left it mutilated. This was him.

Stepping up to the Jedi Master, opening himself in the Force, not as a threat but to let Tytos see that he was a Jedi and a friend, he waited for that spark of recognition to flare up in his eyes, but was left waiting as he cut down the distance between them. Hal's first thought was maybe he was suspicious of him as they had never met, he could have been a Sith masquerading as a Jedi. But then he noticed something else, Tytos wasn't using the Force, looked like he hadn't even reached out to it. For some reason that put him on edge, something was not right here, he could feel it in his gut.

Coming to a stop in front of the noghri, he smiled as he got a good look at him, it really was him. Then where was this feeling of unease coming from? "Master Tytos," he spoke softly enough so that only Tytus could hear him, "I am Hal Farstrider, I have been searching of you for a long time." Waiting for a moment to let the words sink in, he felt that pull in his gut once more, something was off here. "You are Jedi Master Tytos, are you now? You sure have his face."

 

[Raif]

The nearby bar patrons all scooted away from the scene rather hastily, especially after the stranger used the J-word. Jedi weren't exactly the most open and welcomed of groups, not with such a crazy-high Imperial bounty on their heads after all.

Tytos himself inhaled sharply at the use of the words Jedi and Master Tytos - but it wasn't from revulsion or fear. It was...

The Noghri's head began to ache, starting behind his gaping eye socket and spreading throughout the rest of his skull. He shook his head ever-so-slightly in a subconscious effort to rid himself of the pain, the strip of cloth covering his vacant eye rustling a bit with the motion.

"Ain't me. Go away."

The words were delivered with a much-more audible growl this time, though otherwise the Noghri hadn't moved - he hadn't even turned and fully faced the human.

In the background, the bartender was moving quickly and quietly with practiced ease. You didn't get to run your own cantina in the Rim without learning a thing or two, and he had long ago learned to read the signs of when a situation between a few of his patrons was about to get...messy. And so he was grabbing the most expensive bottles on display first, stashing them below the counter where they would be less likely to be crushed beneath a hurled body or turned into an improvised melee weapon.

 

[Wit]

Hal felt it in the Force, the noghri's discomfort. There was something very wrong with the man, something far beyond the physical scars he bore. When he denied being Tytos and told Hal to go away Hal felt no deception from him, he was telling the truth, or at least thought he was. And then a possibility hit Hal, a possibility that made him groan inwards. Banaas had been like this near the end, not remembering who he was. Not again, he thought, I've had more than my share for a lifetime.

Leaning in to speak softly to the noghri, having noticed the reactions the patrons and the bartender had had on hearing what he had said earlier he knew it would be better to keep this quiet and get it over with quickly. Cantinas had a tendency for dissolving into pure chaos in a matter of minutes.

"Trust me, it is you. You're Jedi Master Ty.."

He was cut short as whisper of warning from the Force pulled his attention behind him, where a rather filthy Gammorean had been about to smash a bottle against the back of his head. With not enough time to dodge or block the swing before the bottle smashed against his face, he reached out to the Force. Catching the Gammorean's hand in the Force, he stopped it mid swing, the bottle coming to a stop mere inches from his face. Reaching deeper into the Force, he caught the Gammorean in a Force grip, a gent but firm hold, and slowly pushed him away from him. Sweeping his gaze slowly across the cantina, catching the eyes of the other patrons with a look that seemed to challenge them to try him again, he turned around to face the noghri, only then noticing something else, a pulse from the noghri, the first he time he had felt the Force from the Jedi Master. The situation had been weird enough before, looked like it was just about to get more interesting.

 

[Raif]

The Noghri bristled slightly as the human leaned in, his body coiling like a spring as he prepared to...do what, exactly? The headache was worse than ever, and this situation wasn't helping.

Thankfully, though, it seemed as if the situation was going to be over soon. The Gamorrean had taken the human's attention, and so Tytos decided that it was high time he got out of here. As Hal focused fully on taking care of the large porcine threat, the Noghri slipped quietly off of his stool and turned toward the exit...

...before he'd completed his turn, though, his headache broke for a split second and he felt this flash of something. Without waiting to figure out what that something was, the Noghri dropped into the splits and tilted his head back, flattening himself almost to the ground as a barstool whisked through the air where he'd been standing not a split second before.

It appeared the Gamorrean had a friend.

Tytos was only on the ground for a moment before his body seemed to act with a mind of its own. While Hal was busy using the Force to subdue his enemy - an action which Tytos could somehow feel, even though there was no visual cue as to what the human was doing - the small reptile was a blur of motion. He threw himself into a quick tumble, taking himself past his own adversary. A quick chop behind him caught the enemy - a Weequay, as a point of fact - right behind both knees, dropping the rapidly-angering wannabe Jedi hunter painfully to a kneeling position.

The larger alien whirled wildly toward the Noghri - or rather, where the Noghri had been. Before he'd even made his move, though, Tytos had known it was coming and had known exactly what to do to avoid the strike. Specifically, he threw himself into a reverse tuck, tumbling over the wildly thrashing Weequay and coming to his feet standing before the kneeling creature.

Without a word Tytos brought his hand, stiffened and extended into a knife's edge, downward in a chopping motion that struck the nerve cluster found on most humanoids between their shoulders and neck.

The Weequay dropped like a sack of spuds, just before Hal turned after finishing taking care of the Gamorrean. The entire "fight" up to this point had lasted about two and a half seconds.

The Noghri's head was whirling, though not from the fight. Physiologically speaking he was fine, and realized with some confusion that his heart rate hadn't raised at all - it was like his body was used to this sort of activity. No, what was causing the whirling sensation was...

...the memories. The lost Jedi Master was inundated with a rush of thoughts and recollections, more than he could deal with at that particular moment. He still didn't understand exactly what was going on, but the flood of information coming back to him was enough for him to trust that this human didn't mean him any harm. The Noghri looked at Hal for a moment, then said one word - "Wait." - before vaulting effortlessly over the bar and toward his tiny room in the back.

He came back out to the cantina itself almost immediately, a small cloth-wrapped bundle grasped firmly in one hand. He'd kept this...item...well-hidden over the years, despite the fact that he didn't for the life of him know what it was. Perhaps this human could help him identify it. Not now, though. Tytos glanced down at the unconscious Weequay and the immobilized Gamorrean, and then back at his new-found companion.

"They have friends. We should leave."

A wordsmith, Tytos was not.

 

[Wit]

The fight was over before it started, if you could really call an ass-kicking a fight. The Noghri were known to be fearsome warriors, but what Tytos had just demonstrated was a step above. The Force could do many things, and enhancing one's skills was one of them. Even if the Noghri Jedi Master had not been actively been pulling on the Force Hal was able to realise how his skills were a result of his Jedi training with and without the Force.

Turning to face Tytos, a wide grin on his face, Hal was about to make some quip about Tytos still believing that he had the wrong person when the Noghri cut him off before eh had even started and hoped off to Force knew where behind the bar. He returned moments later with a bundle in his hands. Not one to dally about, Hal start moving towards the entrance to the cantina, waiting till they were outside and moving via a meandering route towards the space port did he decide to address his Noghri companion.

"Still believe you're not who I'm looking for?" A grin was still plastered onto his face, watching the Noghri in action had washed away any doubts he might have had about him being Tytos. There was a certain satisfaction to be gained from a job well done, and despite various hurdles he had actually pulled it off. Of course he still had to get the Noghri back to the Council, but he could let himself get pleased with how much he had managed.

His eyes catching the bundle once more, he leaned to the side and casually gestured towards the bundle. "What do you have in there?" He couldn't really really sense any danger from it, as was still the case with the Noghri in general.

 

[Raif]

The voice, like a handful of gravel being shoved against a brick wall, spoke softly from beneath the Noghri's hood.

"What I believe matters little. The truth at hand dictates one's actions, not the truth in one's mind."

Well, he may not yet fully remember that he was a Jedi warrior monk...but he was sure sounding like one. And acting like one, of course. Internally he was still reeling from everything that had happened, and marveling at what he had done to that Weequay back in the cantina. Externally, though, he was as cool as the other side of the pillow. His hands weren't shaking, his muscled weren't strained or achy, his heart rate had barely elevated...

...and how was he able to just know these things about himself? It was like he'd sent some sort of mental pulse and the echo had immediately returned from within with his physical statistics. He could almost feel the blood coursing through his veins, and he felt alive in a way that he hadn't experienced in over a decade.

He turned his gaze instinctively downward toward his waist at the mention of his bundle, which he'd hastily secured on his belt. His clawed hand - the only one he had remaining - rested on the sharply-pointing object inside for a moment with an odd sort of protective reverence. Odd, because he had no idea what was in the bundle.

His earliest memory was clutching it desperately to his maimed body in the dark corner of a packed refugee carrier. So, whatever it was, it must be important...

Deciding to continue heeding his own statement, he let the facts at hand decide his course, and with one hand he swung the cloth-wrapped item carefully over to the supposed Jedi.

"I don't know. I should, but I don't..."

As he spoke he lifted his hand gently toward his brow, just above his gaping eye socket, where his recurring headache was coming back anew. The excitement of the fight earlier had kept it at bay - or had the pain been a precursor to the fight?

What Hal would find wrapped in cloth would be a large, fat, halberd-like blade, apparently from some sort of polearm if the broken bit of staff still attached to the blade was any indicator. The blade itself was rough and slightly scarred, obviously the participant in at least one particularly brutal battle. Were the Jedi foolish enough to test the sharpness of the blade with a finger, however, he would be painfully surprised to find it still incredibly sharp.

 

[Wit]

Leading them through the streets towards the spaceport where his ship was berthed, Hal took the offered bundle and unwrapped it, glad that he had been careful when he pulled out what lay within. Holding it up to the light to get a good look at it, ignoring the looks he was getting walking next to a one armed Noghri and holding up a largish blade, he was intrigued by the weapon. Not by the workmanship, or the morbid beauty of the thing, but the currents of the Force he could sense deep within its heart.

This was a Jedi weapon, and knowing who Tytos was and what he had been, Hal was not surprised to find it in his possession. Having inspected it for some time, he wrapped the blade once more and turned to glance Tytos. "The world around us can be manipulated, warped to paint a picture far from what it really is. Within us though, in our mind and soul, there lies a truth that can never be erased. You too have that truth within you, what you did back there, that was your truth seeping out from the confines of your mind."

Handing the bundle back to the one handed Noghri, he lead them into the spaceport and towards his ship. "This is the weapon of a Force sensitive, forged and strengthened using the Force, the light side of the Force. You were a Blade Master in the Jedi Order once, this weapon, you could say it was your badge of rank."

A few moments later, as his ship was escaping the planet's orbit, Hal turned to look at the Noghri seated in the co-pilot's chair. There was a struggle going on within him, past and present fighting to assert themselves. He had catalysed that struggle in the cantina, he hoped the blade and its history would somehow provide the push to remembrance. "This blade, it is another truth. Accept it, let it guide your eyes to the past, to your past. The Galaxy is in a mess Master, a mess the Jedi must help clean up. It is time you remembered who you were, who the Galaxy needs you to be."

 

[Raif]

It was like a light suddenly shone through the darkness and fog within the Noghri's mind.

It started with the blade.

My wan'shen...

The realization of what the weapon was brought with it the painful memory of what had led to it's current broken state - as well as his own somewhat grisly state.

"The Demon..."

The Noghri Master's words poured forth like crumbling duracrete, his growl low but forceful. It had been the Demon of Iridonia, the one know as Varek, that had bested him during the defense of Coruscant, had lopped off his off-hand and almost sliced his head in two. Only a last-minute, desperate gamble of throwing himself backward from a platform and into the urban abyss had saved his life, at the cost of his eye.

After a second of pain, brought on my the shock of the memory, he began to slightly chuckle. The pain had washed over him, the psychic trauma passing like rain in a spring storm...and then almost immediately he'd begun analyzing his memory of the fight for flaws in his technique, already thinking and planning on bettering himself for the next fight.

Jedi Blademaster Tytos was back.

He grinned - only a slight one, but a grin nonetheless - and glanced up at his "savior."

"You are wise beyond your years, young Master...?"