Mixed Up

[Rugs]

There’s no way this is legit.

Io’an wondered — not for the first time as he walked through the war-torn streets — if he should turn back to his ship and leave. He turned his head slightly, looking back the way from which he’d come fro the corner of his eye. The spaceport was a few blocks away, a singular spot of rebuilt normalcy amid the smattering of disrepair that made up the rest of his surroundings.

The Archeri hit Sleheyron hard in their rampage en route to Nal Hutta. If the whispers of Mandalorian raiders striking the world after the Chorus’ invasion were true, that certainly couldn’t have done much to help. Much of the rubble had at least been cleared from the streets, but it’d take years for the world to rebuild.

In that, Sleheyron wasn’t so different from much of Hutt Space.

Might as well keep going.

Io’an was, officially, on Sleheyon on Exchange business. Some time ago, he’d received a cryptic message addressed to him offering an informant contact on some whispers of a new gang moving in on Sleheyron. The only catch was that he had to come alone.

Normally Io’an would have ignored what seemed like an obvious trap or waste of time. Gangs sprang up like wildflowers in Hutt Space, and even with whispers of the Black Sun preparing to make moves in the gaping power vacuum left after the Archeri put the Hutts through the wringer, word of some nebulous criminal shit wasn’t exactly groundbreaking news.

But it had been the message’s last line that caught his attention, that drew him on even now, to what he knew couldn’t be anything other than a bad idea.

“I look forward to hearing from you soon, Jedi.”

Io’an sighed and shook his head. He was no Jedi, though to any casual observer — so, just about anyone in Hutt Space — the difference was one of semantics, rather than substance. So here he was, walking along toward Force only knew what. He wore a disruptor pistol so that it prominently displayed on his hip, beneath the end of his jacket. His lightsaber was tucked away out of sight, as usual, and he kept a smaller hold-out blaster hidden within his jacket as well.

The Weary Spacer was an unimpressive cantina by any metric. It was small, old and tucked down a side alley away from too many prying eyes. This late in the evening, the nearby taller buildings had already thrown the alley and cantina into shadow.

Io’an stopped outside weight shifted to one leg as he watched the flickering sign. He didn’t need the Force screaming at him to know this was a bad idea. And yet...

He brushed his fingertips against the wall near the side of the door, hoping for a glimpse of something, anything. No such luck. He still struggled to control his psychometry; it seemed to come on when it wanted to, rather than when he did.

“Well, you’ve come this far,” he muttered and stepped inside.

The Weary Spacer was a dim, gruff place that was well beyond its best days. A few rough types occupied most of the sparse seating. Io’an saw a few blasters at hips as he walked through the bar, waving hazy, pungent cigarra smoke from in front of his face.

His contact was seated in the far corner, chair rocking slightly back and forth as he tipped it up with his legs. He was a Nikto, with a thorny, dark green face and wearing rough spacer’s clothes. He quit his rocking as Io’an pulled back a chair opposite him to sit and leaned forward, pushing the empty whiskey glass aside. His breath stank of alcohol.

“Didn’t think you’d be comin’,” the Nikto said.

“Well, I am,” Io’an said, trying to keep his voice even. His heart pounded in his chest. Something was wrong. His senses were going haywire — so much that he didn’t register a nearby presence, a pillar of light through the haze. “You’re the Seeker?” It was a cheesy code name, but the one he’d been given to look for.

“Aye, I am,” the Nikto said, grinning broadly. “And you’re the Jedi.” The last, he said loudly.

Io’an was vaguely aware of attention shifting to him, of heads turning from the cantina’s other tables. “I don’t know if I’d say that,” Io’an said with a forced laugh, trying to diffuse the sudden tension in the room. “I”m just a-”

“Stop with the nerfshit, Jedi.” The Nikto had brandished a pistol and was pointing it across the table at Io’an. “We know who you are, Mie-vell.” Io’an heard other weapons being drawn through the cantina. He wanted to swear. “Now, you shouldn’t have come here, but you know what they say ‘bout Jedi, don’t you. Just can’t quit stickin’ your noses in other folks’ business. Well, we got you now, Mie-vell, so you can come with us, and you might not get hurt.”

Io’an’s head spun. His gaze flicked to the nearby window. He could get through it, if he acted quick enough. But he coud only think of one thing to say.

“Who?”

[Symm]

No rest for the weary, it seemed. After recovering from Kathar's mission to Sith space, he got sent straight back into Hutt Space. It appeared the council or perhaps Locke thought he handled himself well in his past assignments and saw fit to send him back. Sure, Kathar didn't mind the trust in his abilities, but why did he get assigned to this part of the galaxy? Why couldn't he go to Alderaan or Typhon or another idyllic planet like that?

His mission, this time, was to find the source of an intelligence leak. The leak led to several pirate attacks on freighters, including a Jedi transport carrying kyber crystals that brought Kathar to Hutt Space the first time.

Of course, not being an investigator, Kathar's methods weren't as subtle as could otherwise be possible. So very soon into the mission, he received a modest price on his head - enough to tempt some bounty hunters into risking attacking a Jedi.

Kathar knew nothing of this, though.

The latest lead suggested that Kathar might find what he was looking for on Sleheyron. The intel was thin, and Kathar could find nothing to corroborate it, but he had nothing else to go on. So after a long, long time in the refresher to prepare himself for Hutt Space once again, the Jedi set foot on another world he'd sworn never to visit.

This area of the planet reeked, and not just in a physical sense. The Force here felt sticky, clingy, like an uncomfortable humidity just before a storm. It was true, after all, that the Force permeated everything - even the undesirable. Kathar did his best to filter it through his system, doing what he could to cleanse the air around him. He began to think that the entire planet was like this, and shuddered at the thought.

Then he sensed something, and Kathar stretched his senses to it. A small, timid light in the dusk, shying back from contact but filling the void. Kathar allowed his feet to carry him towards this new presence, distracted from his primary mission but intrigued by what he felt. So he found himself outside of a cantina, 'The Weary Spacer', standing by a window.

Why did it always have to be a cantina?

That thought was interrupted as Kathar heard through the window the unmistakable word 'Jedi', and that brought his attention fully on the conversation going on inside.

He listened to the terrible pronunciation of his name, then the puzzled response:

'Who?'

Before the Nikto could respond, one of his compatriots set outside saw the Jedi skulking by the window. They saw the ginger hair and charged him, shrieking, "MIE-VELL!"

With a crash, Kathar came flying through the window. The charge caught him off-guard, but he was able to twist in midair and land in a roll, throwing the bounty hunter clear across the room in the same motion.

A shocked silence fell over the cantina as the Jedi pushed to his feet and brushed off his knees. "Oh scrog," he muttered under his breath, looking over towards the table where Io'an sat with the Nikto, the apparent leader of the group. "It's pronounced My-a-vel."

With that, Kathar thrust his right hand forward, a surge of power knocking the Nikto's aim off just enough so the proceeding blaster shot flew past Io'an's head and not into it. In the same breath, he ignited his lightsaber behind his back and deflected two shots into the ceiling.

The bar burst into chaos.

Why did it always have to be cantinas?

[Rugs]

Io’an’s eyes shot back to the window. Someone was outside. He wasn’t the only one to pick up on it. A thug screamed that “Mie-vell” name and charged, and at the same time, the stranger came crashing in through the window in a shower of broken glass.

I should have stayed on the ship, Io’an silently lamented as he struggled to make heads or tails of whatever the fuck was going on. I shouldn’t have come here to start with. The last thought he had, before everything went to shit, was that this stranger — the one the thugs were actually after — was pretty good-looking.

The blaster went off, missing Io’an’s head as, as he raised his own hand to throw a push that knocked the Nikto onto his ass in an ignoble heap. Io’an ducked under the table, turning it upright on its side to use as makeshift cover as a brawl erupted.

Crouched behind the table, Io’an unholstered his disruptor and pressed the tip of its barrel to the Nikto’s chest. The scoundrel froze, hand halfway to a knife at his waist. Io’an glared at him as he pressed his free-hand’s two fore and middle fingers to the grimy floor. “Please don’t make me shoot you. I really don’t want to, and this isn’t a normal pistol.”

While he spoke, Io’an reached through the Force to his surroundings, to the whole of the small cantina. Sleheyron’s air was relatively dry, but there was enough moisture lingering, especially indoors, to draw on for his purposes. Enough to encourage to collect, to congregate in beads of sweat on the floor.

From there, it was a simple matter to start the freezing. “Maiavel!” he called to the maybe-actual-Jedi, “watch your footing!”

It only took a few seconds for a thin layer of ice to spread across the floor, radiating out from Io’an’s fingertips. As it spread, as he nudged the environment’s own energy to suit his needs, the air itself within the cantina grew colder, and quickly. By the time the ice spread, in angular, branching paths, from his corner of the cantina to the other, the air was cool enough that Io’an’s breath fogged in front of his face.

He heard surprised yells and thuds as some of the goons lost their footing and fell. Someone threw open the door with a bang and went shrieking out into the street.

“Fuckin’ hell,” the Nikto said, “thought you said you ain’t a Jedi?”

Io’an ignored him. Blaster still pointed at the Nikto, Io'an dared a quick peek up over the table’s edge, hoping his intervention — and this Maiavel fellow’s lightsaber — had calmed things down without too many dead or hurt.

[Symm]

Out of the corner of his eye, Kathar saw Io'an handle the Nikto near him. Good. At least he didn't have to worry about that.

The orange blade of his lightsaber cut through the air with a gentle hum, casually swatting more blaster bolts up into the ceiling. A keen observer might see the deflections angled to the same rough spot on the roof near the door, but in the madness of the cantina, it was hard to keep track.

Kathar took a step just as Io'an yelled out his warning, only just in time to avoid face-planting from the ice. The Jedi chucked a glance Io'an's way while the rest of the floor froze, and an orange brow perked in admiration. It was quite a feat, something he'd seen only a rare few masters do with any modicum of success, so of course, he was going to be impressed.

He had to cut that short though, as a bounty hunter tried to charge Kathar to strike him with a stun baton. Unfortunately for the man he lost his footing halfway and landed with a painful gasp, but continued to slide belly first towards the Jedi. Kathar hopped up and over the man, but reached out with his spare hand to give the bounty hunter a little push - to send him careening off into one of his compatriots.

Kathar, upon landing, kicked the leg of a chair to propel himself across the room. As he slid, he directed more and more blaster shots to that same point on the roof - which promptly stopped as his blade sliced through the muzzles of the remaining guns.

With a clench of his fist, Kathar lifted the two bounty hunters still on their feet into the sky, then threw them together through the door into the refresher.

He cast a gaze around the room, quiet now except for the hum of his blade. As he extinguished his lightsaber, he turned to the bar and addressed the droid behind it, "Sorry about the mess. Give this to the owner." The Jedi tossed a small purse to the bartender droid, then walked over towards Io'an, his footing on the ice as sure as on the stone floor.

"Wait we can w-"

Kathar slammed the hilt of his weapon into the Nikto's head, knocking him clean out. The Jedi crouched and rifled through the bounty hunters pockets, searching for and finding the puck. He flicked it on, the hologram spilling out details on the bounty. "Ten thousand credits. Huh." Kathar shoved it away in his own pockets, hid his lightsaber in a small pouch, then stood and offered his hand to Io'an, to pull him to his feet.

"Let's get out of here before they come to." He smiled.

[Rugs]

Quiet. Blessed quiet. Io’an sighed relief, breath misting in the now-frigid air. As Maiavel, whoever or whatever he was, made amends with the bartender, Io’an took stock of his handiwork. The bounty hunters were, as far as he could tell, quite dealt with. Heavy carbon scoring on the ceiling caught his attention. That hadn’t been there before, had it?

And who are you? he wondered as the Jedi — there was no reason to think him anything else, despite his rather practical apparel — approached. Bearded, handsome and apparently quite capable, Io’an could think of far worse people to come jumping through a window to his aid.

Io’an realized he was staring as Maiavel extended a hand. He muttered an awkward thanks as the tips of his pointed ears flushed with embarrassment and readily accepted the offered hand to stand. He reholstered his disruptor pistol as he stepped around the table, the front of which was, remarkably, free of any signs of damage from the brief brawl. “Yes, I think that’s wise,” he said, footfalls already crunching across the icy floor.

Questions whirled through his mind. 10,000 credits? That was no small sum. Who’d this Maiavel fellow piss off to get that kind of mark on him? And the clothes, sitting easily on Maiavel’s muscular frame, certainly didn’t seem like a Jedi’s attire — nor did the blaster seem a Jedi’s weapon — though Io’an supposed outfits didn’t really make a Jedi. Besides, it probably wouldn’t be prudent to go running around Hutt Space in Jedi pajamas.

The man’s presence, though — that was something that was impossible to ignore. He glowed, to Io’an’s sensitive senses. Even as he stood outside, leaning against the wall with arms folded across his chest as Maiavel blocked off the escape route after them, he couldn’t ignore it.

Even as Io’an withdrew as much as he could from the Force, shying away from its horrible temptations and the ever-present noise of civilized life around them, Maiavel was there. A beacon. Shining.

With nothing else to go on, it only seemed fair to assume the man was a Jedi until proven otherwise. That, then, raised a possibility that Io’an had not steeled himself to confront.

Ever since his youth he’d idolized the Jedi. They were heroes, warriors of countless stories who defended the Galaxy and its people against all sorts of evil. To know one was to know a legend. A myth. When Io’an learned of his own Force sensitivity, he’d hoped to be a Jedi — to be a legend.

But it wasn’t to be — he’d been too old when the Jedi came to his home.

Vance had been one, once upon a time. So had Ms. Faine — though she was a legend, in every sense of the word, in a very different way. Bas, the drug-runner he’d met aboard the Peak of Pleasure and sincerely hoped to one day meet again, had been a Jedi once, too.

Even his mentor, Master Yu, had been a Jedi before their paths crossed.

But to know a former Jedi and stand before a member of that sacred Order in the flesh — those were different things.

“So,” Io’an started awkwardly. He’d been staring again, but for entirely different purposes. “Those guys in there.” He glanced up and down the street. There wasn’t anyone within easy earshot, and he couldn’t feel anyone skulking around any nearby corners. Regardless, he dropped his voice to a just above a whisper. “They thought I was a Jedi. They thought I was you.” His face scrunched a bit at that. He’d take the compliment of being compared to this Maiavel, but other than perhaps their hair under certain light — and even then, his was straight while Maiavel’s was curly — they didn’t look particularly similar.

Io’an rubbed at his neck, covering the tattoo on it with his hand as his violet-ringed eyes studied Maiavel. Then he was looking sheepishly at the ground, at some point just past Maiavel — anything that wasn’t direct eye contact. “I’m not one, and you don’t really see many of them out in Hutt Space, but are you...?”

[Symm]

As the two stepped out of the cantina, Kathar raised his hand and dragged it down through the air. This motion accompanied reaching out with the Force and pulling down the beam he'd deflected the many blaster shots into, structurally weakening it enough to snap. The heavy metal girder slid into place across the door and window, blocking the entrance to and exit from the cantina. It wasn't much - but it would slow the bounty hunters down enough for the two to put distance between them.

He turned to look at Io'an just as the other man began to speak, catching the tail end of his staring. Kathar didn't think much of it - it was a common enough occurrence for someone to stare at a Jedi, especially on worlds where they were not as common. Any other considerations didn't cross his mind - luckily or unluckily for Io'an.

In response to Io'an directing his eyes to the ground, Kathar smiled - doing his best to appear unthreatening, serene, peaceful - everything a Jedi was supposed to be. "Yes, I am. And I'm sorry about that. I didn't know there was a bounty on my head." He gestured, hand coming into Io'an's view even as he looked at the ground, "Come on. Let's get away from here."

Kathar began to lead Io'an away from the cantina even though he had no destination in mind. "If you know anywhere we could lay low for a bit I'm happy to take your suggestion. Somewhere with less people. I'm afraid I don't know this planet very well."

As they walked, Kathar continued, "So you're not a Jedi. How did you learn how to do that thing back at the bar?" Genuinely curious. Io'an was the second Force user in a very brief period that Kathar met who knew how to use their powers to a degree. At least with Bas that was explained by him being a former youngling, but this one - he got the sense this one had a different story.

"I'm Kathar, by the way. Kathar Maiavel."

[Rugs]

So he was a Jedi. Io’an could scarcely contain a surge of awe as he let Maiavel — Katar, it turned out — on. All the time with Ms. Faine and his adopted family at the Blind Eye, all the time fighting to just survive against the Archeri, should have, by any means, made running into a Jedi seem pedestrian by comparison.

That didn’t stop Io’an’s eyes from subtly widening, or his breath catching in his throat.

After all, it wasn’t every day you got to come face-to-face with a childhood idol.

“I’m Io’an,” he said, hurrying his step a bit to walk beside Kathar. “I actually haven’t been here very long. On Sleheyron, I mean. I’ve got a ship a ways back, but...” That seemed odd, inviting a man he’d known for all of two standard minutes onto his ship. “I’m sure we could find somewhere. This town has the sense of not bustling like it used to.”

“As for what I did back there, well,” he rubbed at his neck again, thinking, “I’ve always had the ability, I think. Just like I’ve always been able to touch the Force. It used to be that I could only use it when I was really stressed or afraid, but I learned to control it willingly, with time and practice. My old mentor helped a lot. Master Faizen Yiu. He used to be a Jedi, a long time ago.” Io’an’s face perked up as he looked to Kathar. “Did you know him?”

It was unlikely. Kathar seemed about Io’an’s age — assuming he was Human, as he looked and not similarly long-lived species — and Master Yiu had been old. The old Epicanthix had been out of the Jedi Order for some time, after a former student fell to the Dark Side, when he stumbled on the young Io’an.

“I always wanted to be a Jedi.” Long-buried remorse broke into Io’an’s voice. “But I was too old by the time they found me. I tried to teach myself a bit after that, using what I could find on the Holonet. It was hard, but I learned a bit.” He shrugged gently. “And then Master Yiu found me and trained me.”

Io’an halted as they reached a wide avenue. It was mostly, empty, save the sight of a trio of men leading a group of people chained together by the metal collars at their necks. Io’an frowned slightly but did nothing. Not even the Chorus could halt Hutt Space’s slave trade for long.

Instead, he kept his attention toward their surroundings. “We could probably find somewhere to keep our heads down that way,” he said, pointing along toward a quiet end of the street, past a bombed-out theater. “What’s a-” Io’an bit his tongue, remembering they were back out where more people could hear. “I mean, what brings you out this way, anyway?”

[Symm]

"Well, Io'an, it's very nice to meet you," he said, sounding as though he was genuinely pleased to meet the young man. "Even under these circumstances." Still a little apologetic. After all, Io'an wouldn't be in this situation if Kathar had been more careful.

He pressed on, even as Io'an made brief mention of his ship - to which Kathar shook his head slowly, "No, probably best we steer clear of the spaceport for a while, just in case they think to check there." As for the bustling comment, Kathar silently agreed. It seemed as though this town was in a slump, with the buildings and people having an eerie silence to them. People shuffled from place to place, but they had no real energy in their steps. Whatever had happened here, it sapped the will of its inhabitants.

Io'an mentioned a name, Faizen Yiu, and Kathar fell quiet as he searched his memories. Once again the Jedi shook his head, "I'm afraid not. Could be from before my time." Interesting, though. He made a mental note to learn about this Master. It wasn't unheard of for Jedi to leave the order, even if it was rare - but it was strange to hear that the Master would continue to train people outside of the Temple. The idea irked Kathar in a way - but he couldn't hold that against Io'an.

The remorse in Io'an's voice made the Jedi want to reach out, to touch the man's shoulder in a comforting way, but he held back. He didn't know Io'an, and he didn't know how the man would react. The story, it seemed, was all too common: A talented Force Sensitive overlooked by the Temple. The remorseful tone contrasted greatly with Bas' seeming bitterness, but it struck a similar note.

"I'm sorry."

These past few months opened Kathar's eyes to the truth outside of the Temple, and it bothered him more than he would admit. Three young men, or let down by the Temple in one way or another. Then there was Kathar himself, learning how close he came to washing out.

There was no point in self-pity, however. It could be worse; this made more poignant as Kathar saw the chain gang of slaves herded along, stun prods poking at perceived slackers to motivate the others. Kathar grit his teeth but cast his gaze down. It wasn't his mission, even if he despised the trade. Still, it was a useful reminder of how lucky he had it.

Kathar followed Io'an's gesture and nodded, making his way down towards the culdesac. "I'm looking for something or someone. I'm not entirely sure." The Jedi glanced back the way they came, then gestured to a dilapidated building, "Here. It's empty."

He stepped up to the door and shoved it open, the hydraulics shuddering at the effort. Whatever lock had been on the building, it didn't work now. Entering showed why: The place was ransacked, a long time ago. Whoever had lived here was long gone, and anything of value stripped away. As Io'an stepped in, Kathar slid the door shut behind them.

The Jedi made his way further into the building, coming into what appeared to be an old lounge room. A busted couch ripped and torn to find hidden valuables, sat alone against the wall, covered in a fine sheen of dust. Nobody had been here for a long time.

Kathar knelt in the middle of the room, taking up the classic Jedi meditation post with both knees on the floor and legs folded beneath him. Green eyes settled on Io'an. "What about you? Why are you here?"

[Rugs]

Something or someone. Kathar’s answer offered precious little in the way of clarification but Io’an didn’t get the sense that the Jedi was being intentionally cagey. Even if he is, it’s not like he owes me anything. Glass crunched under Io’an’s shoes as he stepped into the abandoned old building.

The foyer was dim and dusty once Kathar shut the door behind them; the evening’s dying light faded quickly as they moved away from the entrance. But the room they came to, a lounge that’d doubtless seen better days, was brighter, with broad, mostly intact windows high up along its tall walls.

Io’an eyed the dust lining the floor and old furniture with suspicion. Was it dust? Or spores that lingered in this forgotten place after the Archeri conquest? His hand tightened to a fist at his side.

They’re gone. No matter what that is, it doesn’t matter. He took deep, calming breath as he looked around the decrepit room. It’s probably just dust.

Even so, the Force rippled around him as he put his hands out. The dust on the floor gathered, rising in twin sheets that diverged from the room’s center. Io’an spread his hands, palms facing out, and the dust sheets pulled apart to settle at the walls on either side.

The floor beneath was old and worn, but it was at least clear.

Io’an smiled at Kathar as he sat across from him, legs crossed. “I figured that’s better than sitting in all that dust.” Force, he could get lost in those green eyes.

“Anyway, I’m not entirely sure,” he said hurriedly, tearing his gaze away as though he’d meant to inspect their surroundings all along. “I got a message a few days back asking me to meet that Nikto at the Weary Spacer. Said he had some information about,” he stopped abruptly, thoughts stumbling over themselves. What if Kathar was looking into the Exchange? The ginger seemed genuinely amiable, but he’d have to step carefully.

“Well, he said he knew about some activity that might be of interest to me.” Io’an huffed and waved as if that wasn’t a big deal. “Most times, I wouldn’t care, but he called me a Jedi. Not many people outside my circle know about my abilities, and I try to keep it that way when I can.”

Io’an folded his arms across his chest and frowned. “So naturally, that caught my attention. I came, though I had my doubts. That would have been a lot messier if you hadn’t come in when you did.” Now his gaze — the whole of his focus — returned to Kathar.

“They thought I was you,” he said. “I don’t know how or why, but I guess if you don’t know better one Force user is as good as any other?” Or maybe he’d let himself get ambushed by a particularly hapless band of bounty hunters.

“So-” Io’an looked at the ground again, feeling sheepish. “What did you do? A 10,000 credit bounty — I mean, you see higher ones sometimes, out here, but that’s nothing to sneeze at. And I’d like to know who’s after you since they’re clearly gotten on my trail too.”

“Or maybe,” he leaned forward, dropping his voice to a conspiratorial whisper as he flashed a confident grin, “I should just claim it myself since I’ve got you here.”

If his tone didn’t make plain the joke, he hoped the wink he threw in after would.

[Symm]

Whoever Io'an was, the young Sephi had an exceptional command of the Force. Kathar watched, impressed, at the fine-grained control displayed that whisked the dust to separate sides of the room. It was strange to think that there were people so talented with the Force who had never trained at the Jedi or Sith temples; it was also somewhat troubling. After all, the Jedi taught control to face and see off the temptations of the dark side. Who did the same for these independents?

"Quite," Kathar replied, tilting his head as a gesture of thanks for sweeping away the detritus.

It was hard to miss that sense of urgency as Io'an pulled his gaze away, yet Kathar couldn't place the cause. Very slightly, he tilted his head, following the others gaze around the room while Io'an explained what brought him here.

He found himself fascinated by Io'an's eyes - the natural greens in contrast to his own, but it was the violet that drew in attention the most. There was something about that halo of purple - something fresh and new. The Force spoke to him in strange ways, and it whispered to him now that there was a story there, something just out of reach. He'd have to ask about them. Later.

Distracted as he was, Kathar didn't fail to miss Io'an's sudden halt in speech before carrying on with a vaguer explanation. When Io'an said naturally, Kathar nodded and agreed, "Naturally."

When Io'an looked back to Kathar, the Jedi didn't look away. Kathar couldn't help but contrast this reaction to his interactions with Karn, where he could barely look at the man let alone make eye contact with him. Of course, he didn't have the same connection with Io'an as he did Karn - after all, he hadn't spent over a day surviving an ancient deathtrap together with the Sephi; nor had he had any visions of loving him or killing him yet.

"Ah, yes, and again I'm sorry about that," Kathar shrugged, "I'll have to send a message to my pursuers with a better holo of me." An attempt at light humour, Kathar smiling amusedly. "And I'm sure you would have handled yourself fine without me."

Kathar chuckled, as Io'an suggested jokingly (he hoped) that he might try to claim the bounty himself. "I certainly hope not. Based on what I've seen, I'd be hard-pressed to resist!"

His head shook side to side as he pushed aside his entertainment, then, "In all seriousness, I don't entirely know why they're after me. Maybe I'm getting closer to what I'm looking for." He paused, briefly pondering whether to say any more, then pushed on as he decided in the affirmative, "There's a leak somewhere, and some of our transports are getting intercepted and raided. I was hoping to either find the source or the recipient, or both." Kathar shrugged, "The latest lead led me here, though now I'm beginning to wonder if it was just a setup like yours."

[Rugs]

“No need to apologize.” Io’an waved Kathar off. “I don’t think they were the most competent group of bounty hunters, despite luring me in there.” A subtle smile tugged on his lips. His eyes dropped, then met Kathar’s again. “Of course, if looks are what got them mixed up, I prefer to see it as a compliment.”

A rush of heat in his cheeks. Io’an hoped his face or ears weren’t reddening. He’s a Jedi, and here I am acting like I’m still on that cruise ship. Well, maybe he wasn’t being that direct.

He pressed quickly on, trying to bury bubbling embarrassment. “Anyway, I’m not a bounty hunter, so no need to worry about that. I’m not much of a fighter, either.” As far as he was concerned, being a warrior was as much a matter of mind as ability, and Io’an detested unneeded violence.

And then there was the matter of Kathar’s disappearing shipments. Io’an rubbed thoughtfully at his chin. “When you say ‘our’ transports, I assume you mean Jedi? Republic?” He arched a blonde brow. It wasn’t that he meant to prod into Jedi business, but any extra information could help.

“Nothing new to see stuff getting raided out here, and with the Cartels as weak as they are...” Io’an shook his head. Most people thought Hutt Space lawless at its best, and that was true. But there had been an order to it — an understanding of who did what and got what--enforced by the Cartels’ unshakable grip on the territory.

That was all well and good until the Chorus came and shook the group loose.

“Tell you what," he said, unfolding arms, “you tell me what you can, and I’ll help out. Whatever I can do.” The saving grace in all this was that the Exchange hadn’t been particularly involved in piracy of late, what with bolstering its presence on Circumtore after the Battle of Nar Shaddaa. Even when it was, Ms. Faine seemed to actively steer clear of anything that might antagonize the Republic.

If anything, the Exchange seemed friendly to the Republic. Nothing above board. All very under-the-table stuff. But it was curious.

But back to Kathar. “They tried to capture me, so I’ve got a part to play in this too, I think.” Karn sighed. He had little to offer Kathar in the way of useful information, but he’d share what he had, for good faith.

Even if the Jedi rejected his offer, it might help him pin down whoever was behind it all.

“The message I got said I was to meet with the ‘Seeker,’ who would in turn lead me to an informant.” Io’an leaned back on his hands, looking up at the red-orange evening sky. “That Nikto claimed to be the Seeker, but I don’t know. The message said the informant had some info on ‘trade opportunities’ that might interest me.” Io’an realized he was opening himself to questions, but there wasn’t a lot to do for that right now.

“I don’t know what they were, or if that informant actually exists, but it’s something, right?”

[Symm]

"Really?" He said, then laughed. "If anything, I'd say you should be insulted. You're far better looking than I am. Plus, the ears." Kathar reached up and flicked the tip of his own left ear, "You'd think they'd know a Sephi over a Human, right? I think you're right that they aren't the brightest bunch."

The Jedi moved passed that, not even thinking about what he'd just said. He didn't even realise, really!

Kathar leaned back, hands resting on his thighs to keep his back straight as Io'an continued. "Both," he replied, helpfully, as the question of what transports came up. "Mostly civilian, but some military as well."

The Jedi tilted his head to the side, eyes considering Io'an while the other made their offer of assistance. Kathar pressed his tongue between his teeth, mulling over the offer, then slowly nodded, "Sure. But, no offence, I've been in Hutt Space before. There aren't many people willing to help out of the goodness of their heart. What are you going to get out of this?"

In any case, Kathar didn't have much choice. It seemed like Io'an had a better lead than he did, and he needed to solve this.

So he started to talk, "It started with a kyber crystal theft; you know what they are? They attacked a Jedi transport and killed a few guards. I tracked the crystals down, but they'd already been stolen from the thieves by this other guy. Has a bit of a smoking problem, think he's a smuggler. Another Force Sensitive as well, come to think of it?" Kathar paused, then shook his head, "By the Force, I keep running into you guys, don't I?" Wryly.

"Anyway. Long story short, got the crystals back, then more transports kept getting attacked. So I'm back, again, and it sounds like this 'Seeker' person might be interesting. Any idea how we might find them?"

[Rugs]

Io’an found it remarkably difficult to focus on what Kathar was saying. Kyber crystals. Yes, he knew what those were. And a question that seemed only fair — it’d be pretty naive of Kathar to assume anyone out in Hutt Space would do anything without some ulterior motive.

That was all well and good. But there was something else Kathar said, and Io’an had no idea if meant it earnestly or in jest.

“You think I’m-”

No. No no no no no. The pointed tips of his ears flushed with color as he forced himself to shut up.

Io’an closed his eyes. Force, he didn’t even knew how to begin trying to salvage that flub. The end — the last question Kathar asked. “I’m-I’m not sure,” he stammered, leaning forward onto his forearms so he could look at the ground. “That Nikto claimed the title before they tried to jump me. It might actually be him, or he could just be in on it in some way. I tried tracing the source of the message that came my way, but whoever sent the message knows their stuff. I could have dug deeper, but I didn’t think-” Io’an’s voice trailed off as he realized the inadvertent hint at his talents as a silcer.

Not that it was a big deal, really — it’d surely come into play during the course of their investigation. He just hated that he’d grown so flustered.

“Well, needless to say, that won’t be opening any doors with any haste. We could try to track down one of those dolts from the cantina, see what they know. I bet one of them would spill something.” If they didn’t? There were ways to reach into the mind and knowledge lose, though he’d rather not engage in such invasive action unless as an absolute last resort.

“As for what I want, well, it’s hard to say.” Finally, he lifted his gaze to Kathar and smiled. “I don’t know what all’s going on beneath the shadows here but I’d like to know who’s behind an attempt to capture or kill me. If I learn something about whatever operations are going on here, then that’s a bonus. If this is all tied to your stolen kyber crystals, then it’s got to be something worth keeping an eye on. No one just attacks Jedi and Republic shipping. Not unless they’re really big,” he raised one slender finger, then another, “or really stupid.”

Something else Kathar had said pricked at his memory. A smuggler Force user with a smoking habit. It could be anyone, but it seemed so familiar. Bas? He looked at Kathar, brown knit as he considered. “That other Force user - what was his name?”

[Symm]

While Io'an stammered past the awkwardness, Kathar kept on smiling - unaware of the internal struggles of the poor Sephi man. He figured Io'an was just a little shy, and so the visible flush to his ears was simply a case of him trying to push past it. The Jedi Order had failed rather spectacularly to instil in Kathar certain social qualities, not the least of which was his ability to detect flirting. It didn't help that until recently Kathar had barely left the Temple.

Kathar perked a ginger brow as Io'an discussed 'tracing' a message, a term he with which he was quite familiar. The Temple, while skipping out on important coming of age lessons, sought to teach Kathar a wide variety of skills, one of which was slicing. It wasn't Kathar's favourite subject and, in truth, he was rather mediocre at it, but it was still a part of his repertoire. So that little slip did not go unnoticed. That he filed away with the trade opportunity comment from earlier, noting to chase it up later.

"That's not a bad idea, though we'd have to be careful. They might be better prepared next time. Would be best if we could find one of the bounty hunters on their own. I don't want to hurt anyone if I can help it." Violence, the Jedi taught, should always be a last resort. Unfortunately, it seemed, the galaxy didn't follow those same tenets.

As for what Io'an wanted, Kathar again sucked on his teeth and then nodded, "Alright. I'm not one to turn down help where it's offered. Happy to have your help, Io'an."

Kathar began to stand, leveraging himself to his feet. He reached his hands up, stretching out and touching the tip of his fingers to the ceiling, "Oh, uh, his name is Bas. I don't think he's involved in this though. Seemed like he genuinely stole them from whoever stole them originally."

[Rugs]

“You know Bas?” Io’an’s brow rose as Kathar stood up. “Keldrova? I know him.” What were the odds? Io’an looked at the ground to hide a little smile. Bas was the sort who left an impression, for good or ill. Io’an — for good or ill — was rather fond of the drug runner and their time together on the Peak.

“So he got into trouble?” He shook his head as he stood gracefully from his spot on the floor. He stretched, arms wide and bent back to loosen up. “I should say that surprises me, but no. Not with him.” A grin cracked Io’an’s face, followed by genuine concern. “I hope he’s doing alright.”

How did Bas get caught up with kyber crystals? Drugs, Io’an would’ve expected, but kyber crystals were Jedi business. Everyone knew to stay out of Jedi business if you could help it — though here he was, getting wrapped up in Jedi business. Maybe he’d ask, should their paths ever cross again.

Whatever the case, worrying about Bas would get them nothing and nowhere at present, so Io’an pushed the thoughts aside and returned his focus to the matter at hand as they began to make their way out of the decaying building.

“You’re right about finding one of them alone if we can help it. I think the Nikto might be our best bet--he seemed to be the ringleader of that group in the cantina.” Io’an rubbed the back of his neck as he tried to think back to which of the hunters stood out in memory. Unfortunately, most of the brawl was a blur with faces and figures lost in the chaos. “He’s umm... Also the only one I got a really good look at, to be honest.” Io’an prodded at a worm-damaged table with his foot as they passed, in reference to his makeshift cover during the brawl.

“Did you happen to get a good look at any of the others?”

[Symm]

The Force indeed worked in mysterious ways. Kathar looked as surprised as Io'an as the other admitted knowing him. "Oh, I'm sure he's doing just fine. I left him near Circumtore with a large amount of the credits he'd extorted me out of for the crystals. I get the feeling that that man would survive falling into a Sarlacc pit, so long as he had a steady supply of cigarras." He shook his head, smiling, "No, I'm sure he's fine."

Kathar walked alongside Io'an, stepping not ahead nor behind him. He stayed close, but not so close as to encroach on personal space. Close enough that he could reach the man quickly if he had to, or to get away if needed.

While Kathar sensed that he could trust Io'an, he wouldn't want to leave anything to chance. After all, Io'an was someone he barely knew with seemingly immense Force powers. It wasn't as if Kathar had just recently gone through a similar experience recently that ended poorly.

Probed about seeing the others, Kathar shook his head as they approached the door, "Afraid not. There was a bit too much shooting and flailing going on for me to get a good eye on any of them." The Jedi paused at the door, stretching his senses out to the street beyond. "I'd say you're right. The Nikto is the best option, unfortunately."

Kathar, feeling nothing amiss, slid the door opened and stepped out, glancing around while his eyes adjusted to the light. "So, if you were a bounty hunter who thinks he just fought not one, but two Jedi, where would you go?"

[Rugs]

“That’s understandable. There was a lot of attention on you, wasn’t there?” Io’an stuffed his hands in his coat pockets, looking and feeling guilty. “I am sorry for that. I should have done more to help.” Kathar acquitted himself well in the cantina — as far as Io’an could tell, he’d emerged entirely unharmed from the commotion. “Your redirection of all those blaster shots to one point on the ceiling,” he said as they returned to the quiet, empty street, “that was really impressive. I don’t know if I could do that.”

The outside was darker than when they’d entered the old building, with reds and oranges giving way to ever-darker purple. Street lights — those that worked, anyway — had come one while they were inside, and their present surroundings didn’t want for lighting. Io’an saw that wasn’t true for the whole of the urban area around them; darkness cloaked entire blocks further along the street.

“Well, I can’t speak to being a bounty hunter, but,” Io’an spoke slowly, thoughtfully, “if I got in that situation and was lucky enough to get out in one piece, get out of dodge, try to regroup and figure out a different plan of attack. Maybe a safe house, a ship--somewhere I know would be secure.”

Io’an frowned.Therein was the rub. He’d barely been on Sleheyron before willingly wandering right into that obvious trap. Now escaped, he hadn’t the foggiest idea where the hunters could have slinked off to lick their wounds.

“It’s possible there’s a bounty hunter’s guild around here somewhere,” he offered. “Though it may not be any help if these guys after us aren’t legit. We could try returning to the cantina. He might still be out from that knock on the head.” It was hard to believe the barkeep would just leave an unconscious man on the floor for long, but stranger things had happened.

“And if he’s not, maybe we can pick up a trail to follow along the way?” Strain all he could, Io’an could think of nothing else. In the chaos of everything, he hadn’t taken the time to inspect the Nikto’s presence in the Force, so even his sharp senses would offer little assistance now — especially for picking out a single strand among the crush of urban life.

“There’s one other thing I can try if nothing else works,” he muttered, mostly to himself, as they walked along.

[Symm]

The guilt Io'an displayed made Kathar bring a hand up to rest on the other man's shoulder, squeezing it lightly in an attempt at reassurance. "It's fine, Io'an. You did exactly what you should have done, and there's no shame in that. You kept that Nitko out of the fight, and frosted up the floor, which helped me finish it quickly; probably prevented a few people from getting hurt, as well." Kathar smiled, left his hand there a moment longer, then dropped it to his side. "The Jedi teach that violence should always be a last resort. You displayed that creed admirably."

As for the deflection? Kathar chuckled at that, nodding, "Yes. Deflecting blasters is a specialty of one of the lightsaber forms I've mastered. It helps stop people from getting hurt, so I focused on that. I could give you a few pointers...do you have a lightsaber?" The last thought popped into his mind suddenly. Bas didn't have one, so why would Io'an?

While Io'an described potential hideouts, Kathar looked around. Hutt Space was one of the places hit the hardest by the Acheri invasion, and Sleheyron it seemed did not escape the ruin. Perhaps this town had potential once, but now it looked more like a ghost town. Sad, really, but it was a tale echoed across the galaxy. And, depending on how the arbitration at Prazhi went, things may get a lot worse.

"The Bounty Hunter's Guild, maybe. But if there is a legitimate bounty on my head, I don't know if I should walk straight into that place. Might turn a few heads." The Jedi smiled lopsidedly, "And I don't really want to get you on their radar as well. You've done nothing wrong. I think going back to the cantina might work; even if he's not there, we can ask the staff if they knew any of the gang. Good idea, Io'an."

Those barely spoken words were lucky to reach Kathar's ears, but he glanced at the other man as he finished, "Oh? What's that?"

[Rugs]

Io’an watched Kathar from the corner of his eye. So he’d heard? Well, it wasn’t as if Io’an had anything to hide — not with that power, anyway.

“I do have a lightsaber, yea,” he said touching the edge of his coat to indicate its placement. Pride rose in his voice. For years after Yiu took him as a student, he’d begged and begged to build his own lightsaber, rather than continue to use the training blade the aged master insisted he wield to learn. When at last the day came, Io’an nearly fell over himself with glee. Io’an would never be a Jedi; he’d come to terms with that.

But carrying a Jedi’s weapon was sweet consolation.

“I use Shien primarily, so I can keep blaster shots away, most of the time.” A few other forms found their way into his rotation occasionally — he knew a bit of Djem So and the Niman’s most basic levels. “But even then, I don’t think I could ever do that.” He grinned at Kathar. “I’d be happy for whatever pointers you could share.”

The street grew modestly more crowded as they got nearer to the Weary Spacer, which was to say there were actually a handful of people scattered here and there. Most looked to be heading somewhere with a purpose. Io’an guessed indoors — he wouldn’t want to be out in a lawless, war-torn city after nightfall if he could help it.

Then again, he was exactly that on Nar Shaddaa with disturbing regularity.

“So, that other thing I mentioned,” he started as they turned onto the alley that’d lead to the cantina’s main entrance. The sign was on now, flickering neon with only a few of the letters dim. Io’an scanned the alley for signs of any seedy types lurking in the shadows but found none, through his natural vision or the Force. They were two, at least, and that would be enough to scare off most would-be thieves.

“Are you familiar with psychometry?” Io’an watched Kathar for a reaction. He’d never heard of the power until it manifested, and that was long after Master Yiu’s death. Figuring out what the power was, and struggling his way through learning its use had been a mostly solitary endeavor, frustrations and all.

“I can see things’ memories. I don’t know how else to describe it. Sometimes people or actions leave echoes in the Force, and if I touch them,” he extended his hand forefinger out as if touching a wall, “I can see them.

“But I can’t control it. Sometimes it works. Most of the time it doesn’t, and it’s usually not when I want it to. It’s frustrating.” Io’an smiled painfully. “I’d like to say you could rely on me to use it when we need it, but that would be overselling my talent, I’m afraid.”

[Symm]

Eyes tracked Io'an's hand as the man patted at his coat, indicating where he kept his lightsaber. Kathar wasn't sure how to feel about that; here was a man who had never stepped foot in the Jedi Temple, wielding a weapon of power and responsibility. Gaining access to a proper lightsaber was a rite of passage for the Jedi, and to just be given one without such trials? It irked him.

Still, Io'an explained that he knew the forms - so at least there was that. Whoever this Jedi Master was that taught Io'an had taught him that, at least. "Shien is an excellent form. Exceptional for blaster deflection and fighting multiple people. It's what I was employing back at the cantina, to send the shots up into the ceiling. As for the pointers, I'd have to see how you handle yourself. Maybe after this is all done?" If there was one thing Kathar knew, it was lightsaber training; and perhaps this would be an excuse to get to know Io'an better, to understand from where he came.

As they walked, Kathar stretched his senses out, attempting to seek out threats before they became readily apparent. The more crowded street made it harder, but he wasn't interested in being caught off-guard again.

Psychometry: That perked Kathar's attention. He nodded, slightly, as Io'an waited for his reaction, but was pleased when the other man explained it further. The Temple had, briefly, touched on the power, but as Kathar didn't possess it, they didn't spend much time on it. What he knew, though, was it was a particularly rare ability and one with unbelievable use cases.

"That is amazing, Io'an. Psychometry is a power gifted only to very few, and to have it," Kathar shook his head, trailing off. "Incredible. Do you mind if I ask what it looks like when you see something? Can you use it on people?" That last question came with a wave of concern, though he didn't allow it to show in his face or tone. While Kathar could mask his memories reasonably well, someone with the ability to potentially view his past made him uncomfortable. What if Io'an saw...?

He broke that train of thought off, stopping just before the entrance. Kathar's essence flowed into the bar, touching on the patrons inside briefly to get a sense for their demeanour. Noting no overtly hostile attitudes, Kathar nodded, "I don't think they're here. Let's check with the owner."

The Jedi went in first, and couldn't help but look up at the ceiling. The beam he'd pulled down was back in place, welded and reinforced in the spot he'd torn apart. Well, this town may be down on its luck, but the populace took no time to rebuild the bar. Typical.

Kathar walked across to the bar proper and caught the viewing port of the serving droid, "We're looking for someone." The droid seemed to glare at him, then turned away with attitude, leaving the statement unanswered. The Jedi chuckled and shook his head, starting to suck in a breath to ask again.

"You're not welcome here. You or your friends." The owner said gruffly, coming out from the back. The human glared with one good eye at the two travellers, arms folded across his chest.