Always a Padawan

[Nuuc Lapt]

Nuuc often found himself left to his own devices when the Salvation docked for repairs or to make purchases, and even though Sullust was his homeworld, he couldn't feel like more of a stranger. After all, he wasn't actually born here. The underground cities held a small sense of familiarity as he traversed them, reminding him of the mines and tunnels of Mygeeto, the planet he was born on. Where he was born into the life of a slave.

Still, while he was a padawan of the Jedi Temple here on Sullust, he had spent plenty of time in the great underground cities. The capital city of Byllurun was where he often found himself spending down-time while the ship refueled, or picked up replacement parts from SoroSubb. One cantina in particular was his favorite, something he shared with a few of his fellow pilots.

"Is this a new band?" asked Mica Cresdow, one of the fighter pilots under his command. "I don't remember them from the last time we were here."

"No, they're the same," replied her twin brother Luca as Nuuc nodded along.

Their galactic basic language was foreign to him, but he understood it as well as his native Sullustan. They had both been freed simultaneously from a small-time slaver on Tatooine only a few years ago, but found solid positions under his command.

"He's right, they just have a new kloo horn players." Nuuc's cup was half-empty, the fifth he'd had that night, compared to his comrades, who were only on their second. Like most of his race it was very difficult for him to get drunk, and he often found himself paying the tab as he could easily drink double that of any of the other crew members. "I like the singer, though."

Mica rolled her eyes. "Of course you like the singer. Men always like Twi'lek women. It's a wonder none of you have made a move on Airi yet."

"Never date a fellow pilot," Nuuc replied, his dewflaps bouncing a bit as he laughed, his eyes still on the pale purple-skilled singer as she moved about on the stage. "Besides, it's her voice I like. She reminds me of one of the women from Mygeeto. She would always sing for the children in the mines, and her voice sounded exactly like this girl's."

The twins went silent at his little story before Luca finally asked, "Where is she now?"

"Free."

His single word response was true, in a sense. 'Only the dead are truly free' was a common saying among slaves where he was from, and even many he'd met after joining with the Salvation, and to that extent, it was true for her. The cave-in that took her life was only two days before Gepp's operation was raided, and he was set free. The thought of it brought down his mood a bit, and he stood, drawing the eyes of his fellow pilots.

"I'm gonna go check in with the ship. Get another round, I'll pay."

While Luca seemed more excited at the notion of not having to pay for the tab, Mica's eyes gave on that Nuuc's real intention wasn't the one he'd given them. With a nod, he turned away, passing through a group of incoming Sullustan locals through the entrance. Once outside, he took out the small comms unit he carried with him at all times, but decided not to make the call just yet. He put it back into his pocket, sitting down on a small stack of empty crates as the small side street the cantina called home moved with foot traffic, his mind wandering back to the woman on Mygeeto. He'd wait here a moment before heading back in.

[member="Aviel"]

 

[Yula Perl]

Avi was new to this whole ‘Jedi’ thing. The Nasvalo youth had grown up comfortably, his parents had certainly seen that he hadn’t struggled to survive as they had.

Still, he was spoiled and had little idea what it was like to suffer. His parents had sent him out into the galaxy—with a new ship and a handsome stipend—to learn more about what was out there and make something of himself. Make use of his gift, they called it. Avi never cared much for the Force, only for fast speeders, women and exotic novelties. Manas was a primitive world and he lived in the one area that was on the cusp of modernization.

Diamond Dust was a well known cantina on in Byllurun. Or at least, Avi had heard it was well known from a couple of passing roguish looking spacers. That was what he aspired to be but he couldn’t genuinely cultivate that look. His facial hair was too clean, his hands soft and uncalloused, his clothes too new. The look he had, whether he liked it or not, was the look of a green rich kid with daddy paying the bills.

Entering the cantina, he nearly bumped into a Sullustan also walking in. “Woah, sorry.” He reflexively called out, finding his footing. Avi was rather large by baseline human standards. “Didn’t see you there, hey—“ He paused as he finally turned to look at who he’d nearly toppled over, blinding smile widening across his face. “I know you! You’re from the Alliance, a Padawan too. You’re uh…” He trailed, trying to remember his name.

“…Noot?”

[member="Nuuc Lapt"]

 

[Nuuc Lapt]

Nuuc had spotted the absurdly tall man coming his way before he bumped into him, but was paying too little attention to anyone else to avoid it. Owing to his short Sullustan stature he had to look up to see his face, one he didn't particularly recognize, but one that seemed far too clean for the types that frequented this section of the city. Still, despite the interruption to his thoughts, he didn't pay too much attention, at least not until he mentioned his padawanship.

"Nuuc," he corrected in Sullustan, meeting his gaze, though the height difference made it difficult. "And formerly a padawan, yes. Now I'm a simple pilot and mercenary. And you are...?"

He hoped that the self-identified padawan could understand his language, though given that he was *on* Sullust for the Jedi temple, and that the language was a common one throughout the galaxy, he assumed the man would have at least some understanding.

 

[Yula Perl]

“Right, right. Nuuc.” He gave the Sullustan an apologetic smile. It took a little bit for him to switch over to the planet’s native language, albeit thickly accented. Basic wasn’t Avi’s native tongue but he’d been exposed to it long enough for it to become second nature. Sullustan was a bit trickier, but he was happy to speak it so long as Nuuc didn’t mind his strange pronunciation and slower speech.

“Call me Avi.” The blinding smile came back. “I’m an apprentice in the Galactic Alliance. And kind of the Outer Rim, too. I’ve seen you before somewhere, I think.” The young Nasvalo drifted wherever there was action to be had.

He paused, looking past Nuuc when he spotted the Twi’lek singer. Avi let out a low whistle of appreciation. “What a beauty she is, huh? Do you know her name?” A slow grin spread across the young man’s face as her turned back to his new friend.

Avi was used to things being easy.

[member="Nuuc Lapt"]

 

[Nuuc Lapt]

"Sokha Va," he replied, turning to glance through the door as she finished a song to great applause from the crowd. "She's been singing here for... four years? Close enough to it. She's very good."

He extended a hand to the very tall padawan before him, noting the strange inflection of his tone. He had some difficulty with Sullustan, it seemed, but he spoke it well enough. "Nice to meet you, Avi. What's a padawan doing in a part of town like this? Or has the training for young inductees changed since I left the Order?"

Laughing at his own joke, he recalls how long it's been since he left. Surely *that* much hasn't changed in the interim.

[member="Avi Soltani"]

 

[Yula Perl]

“Yeah,” Avi responded. “She’s real good.”

He snapped out of his trance-like state as Nuuc offered a hand, taking it with a friendly smile. His people weren’t known for their love of other species, tending to be wary or even hostile towards foreigners. Avi had grown up in one of Manas’s few cities which welcomed many off world contractors. Since he’d left, the young Nasvalo had hardly come across a race he disliked.

“Oh, you know.” He shrugged, speaking with a good natured tone. “Just hanging out and about.” His grin grew a little wider at the thought of the Order condoning some of his less…puritan actions. “Yeah, they sent me out here to scope out the local talent. Temple is looking for a new lounge singer.” He joked back.

Avi hadn’t set foot in any temple in….Force knows how long.

“How about you, Nuuc? What have you been up to?”

[member="Nuuc Lapt"]

 

[Nuuc Lapt]

Despite trying to keep a distance between them, he can't help but let out a chuckle at Avi's joke. The thought of a Jedi temple playing host to a lounge of the sort that would attract spacers and mercenaries was ridiculous. Especially considering he'd been chastised by his old master for even suggesting staking out such a place in the Outer Rim while on assignment.

"At the moment I'm simply waiting on my ship to make purchases," he replied as he shook Avi's hand. "Meditating on the force over a stiff drink. Or... five. We're heading to the Tion Cluster soon, chasing some reports of slave trading out there."

Breaking up small organizations and taking out one-off traders would never end slavery in the galaxy, but it was a start. And Nuuc was happy enough to throw his abilities behind it. Though, truth be told, it had been far too long since they'd encountered another trained force user. He worried his skill with a lightsaber had been in decline, even though he often trained with other crew members and scavenged electrostaves.

 

[Yula Perl]

In the midst of conversation, Avi swiped a mug of ale from a serving tray as the Zeltron holding it passed by. When she stopped to reprimand him, the Nasvalo gave her a winning smile and placed a handful of credits apologetically onto the tray. The Zeltron eyed him for a moment before heading back to the bar. He was a rich kid flashing his cash, do doubt. Nobody paid fifteen credits for a beer.

At the mention of slave trading, Avi’s eyes got wide. It was an awful thing, sure, but the young man’s heart was fixated on adventure. “Need any help with that?” He did his best to sound mildly interested, but the prospect of chasing slavers played on his desire to engage in swashbuckling heroism.

“Could always use another glowstick wielder, right?”

[member="Nuuc Lapt"]

 

[Nuuc Lapt]

Nuuc shrugged, himself taking a drink after paying. It would be his sixth, though he couldn't even feel anything from the first five.

"I don't see why not, if you think you can handle it. We can't offer much in the way of payment since it's not an official contract, though. Sometimes we like to do things... off the record. Especially when it comes to slavers."

He pauses for a moment, the memory of his assignment years ago coming back to him in the moment. The lifeless body of a Trandoshan slaver crumpled before him, the smell of burnt flesh and heat from his lightsaber hanging in the air. His master's voice shouting at him before the handle of his blade flew from his hands, pulled away by the Mandalorian woman as his eyes were fixated on the newly-made corpse. He had done what was right. Even now, years later, he knew that. But to the Jedi Order, it wasn't right. And that, to him, could be nothing but wrong.

"How good are you with a lightsaber?"

[member="Avi Soltani"]

 

[Yula Perl]

If you can handle it. Off the record. Every part of Nuuc’s sentence appealed to the sense of swashbuckling vigilante that had embedded itself in Avi’s brain. Hell yes he thought he could handle it. Would he actually be able to though? That was a different story.

“Sounds good to me.” The Nasvalo responded smoothly. If anything, the young man would be physically intimidating to their opponents. Maybe. Some weren’t phased by physical size.

“Pretty good with a blade, yeah.” It had been a slow start but Avi was decent. His people were used to handling weapons with their physical strength, not the weightless sort that was a lightsaber.

He paused, a thought coming to him with perhaps just an edge of hope in his voice. “You think the fighting will be that rough, Nuuc?”

[member="Nuuc Lapt"]

 

[Nuuc Lapt]

He shrugged. "You never really know until you've gotten there. We sent a couple pilots to scout ahead. Have you ever heard of the Drongar system?"