Sharp screeching met the sparks that flew through the air in a beautiful accompaniment to the chorus of blows produced by the swirling blades. Again and again the blades met, vibroblade on hardened steel of an unknown substance. Every now and again a single drop of sweat would disturbed the drawn brow of the talented young Rutian. Fighting against such a mighty opponent was not something he was used to. The raw muscle of the Barabel squaring off infront of him made him even more of a deadlier opponent.

Alater hissed a little as the yellows of his eyes squinted to better understand the strange stance he was seeing infront of him. The odd Twi'lek ceremonial weapon was possibly the weapon best suited to defend against his attacks. The raw power and reach of his Long Fang was met with the almost nonchalant way in which the Lyaer'tsa rolled off the force of his blows. The long shaft of the weapon canceled out any sort of advantage the Long Fang would have due to its extraordinary length and the ability of the weapon to flex granted this skilled opponent of Alater's to move in and outside of reach without worry of the blow of Long Fang breaking his own guard.

Together they spun, the unique fighting styles of both causing quite a stir in the training room aboard the Nimrod. For nearly thirty minutes the two battled, exchanging close misses and minor scrapes. Rutian's sadistic outlook on battle lead him to face this enemy head on, and the Barabel tradition demanded no less. A slight chuckle erupted from Alater in mid-swing of Long Fang. Rutian, in a rare show of sport, had failed to activate the vibroblades at the end of the weapon, and as such the stab he had just performed merely tickled the large beast of a lizard. Alater planted his sword in the ground and extended a clawed hand towards Rutian who took it.

"It's good to see you again my little blue friend." Alater said, reaching into one of his random pockets to retrieve a fresh cigar that he quickly placed into his mouth and proceeded to puff away, despite ship policy about smoking outside private quarters.

"You are always a good opponent Sergeant Alater." Rutian replied, collapsing his weapon with a well practiced flick of the wrist. His weapon soon retreated into the confines of a metal suitcase that seemed to always be on the Twi'lek's person. Seeing Rutian without his precious weapon was akin to seeing Alater without a scowl and a bad attitude.

"I try blue one." Alater said, as they walked out of the training area together, leaving a small crowd of awed onlookers. The last time the two of them had met had been when Alater had needed to sneak off planet on a Special Forces mission and his contact happened to have the call signal of a Navy pilot out of leave that didn't seem to be doing much.

The two of them walked towards the last place anybody would ever expect to find either of them; the ship's cantina. Neither were much on the drinking side, Rutian who never did and Alater who could drink his own weight and then be just fine. There was so much in common between them; warriors, an abandoned past, and a general want to be left alone. The only difference was that Alater held the capacity for healthy relationships with certain individuals were Rutian often found himself apathetic at least, hostile at best. They made interesting drinking companions.

"You know," Alater said, sitting down at a table and activating the small menu in the center of the table, "I still owe you for pulling me out the last time we met." He looked at the menu and ordered two 'hot chocolates', another bad habbit he had picked up in the Special Forces.

"I would not stand between a Barabel and the payment of his dept. What is it you have in mind?" Rutian said, tapping a pointed nail against the end of one of his Lekku in thought, trying to predict the Barabel's form of 'payment'.

"Well, I don't know how possible it is, but I think there's somebody you should meet. Not to sound odd, but I seem to have caught his scent here on this little vessel, though I doubt it's actually him. You'd like this man, I hold him in the highest regard." Alater said, finally ordering the drinks and sitting back in his booth.

"You know I'm not very interested in meeting new people." Rutian responded calmly, his sharpened fangs glistening in the low light of the cantina. The other patrons in the cantina were mostly officers and pilots aboard the ship, but a few were troopers like himself. The area was becoming uncomfortably crowded around this time on the vessel.

"Yes well, neither am I. Shall we move back to quarters?" Alater said, shuffling out of his booth. Rutian quickly followed, metal case in hand, and the pair slipped quietly out of the room as both were skilled in doing so.

As the pair walked down the hall, Alater's head snapped up and his eyes glinted red ever so quickly. As they rounded a corner Alater hissed a bit and his long arm shot out. Quickly it shot past the face of a distinctly red, female Twi'lek.

Alater was surprised to hear an answer in his own language. The scent of Riqimo had been diluted, as if some sort of residual event had just happened, and it left Alater to only think of the worst. When the sharpened tips of Twi'lek spinning blades met the weaker scales on the underside of his arm, he knew his victim at once. There would be only one creature in the galaxy that would smell of Doc and have the speed to place such rare weapons right under his guard.

"Thisss, is Rutian." Alater said, slowly moving his arm back away from the prickling sensation caused by the Twi'lek weapons. His accent still sifted through as he began to control his heart rate and core temperature. Being cold blooded and specially trained had its advantages.

Rutian had stepped to the side of Alater, and had placed one hand precariously on his metal case. Namyr followed him with that scowl of hers, and the piercing eyes to match. To see them was to see an invisible battle between opposing sides, complete opposites that seemed to harbor a preformed hatred for one another.

"It's obvious he's a Rutian, my question was who is he?" Namyr asked again, her tone a little sharp and impatient. There was a sort of mutual respect between Alater and Nams, both as combatants, troopers, and those close to Riqimo, though she had now left him. Alater missed his Blood Brother.

"Oh...well, that's just what I call him. I suppose his real name is Aslond, Aslond of the royal Von family. Other than that, you'd have to ask him." Alater said, trying to watch the pair of them. They were like stray felines that had crossed paths for the first time. Hairs were raised, claws extended.

"Yes, well, is that so." She replied, guard lowering if ever so slightly. Nams seemed to have some form of hatred towards all other Twi'leks, and Alater had heard the story that explained Rutian's hatred towards all females. It made for an interesting combination, one that could end up being filled with blood if the wrong turns were taken. Already both had weapons in hand, and somebody had to do something to diffuse the situation.

"Look, Nams, we were just heading towards my quarters here. Why don't we all go back, relax, and catch up." Alater said, making more of a comment than a question.

Alater looked from Rutian to Nams, trying to decide what to do. He had never seen either of them like this, like two stray cats meeting for the first time, each testing their ground, but these cats were weapon experts. Alater knew a bit of Nam's past from Doc, but other than that he knew nothing of the darkness that hid behind her yellow eyes. On the other hand he has seen many of Rutian's scars and understood, without words, were they came from. His were wounds of torture. Years of torture. With a big sigh he put large clawed hand on the backs of the neck of each Twi'lek and turned them to face forward.

"You two definately need some time to work things out, without weapons that is. Like it or not the three of us are going to go sit down in my nice quarters and have a few drinks, and get to know each other better. Hell, I haven't seen you sense you bothered to save my life Nams. I think that's worth a few drinks." Alater said, and began to half drag the two of them down the hallway.

"Hey now big boy, that's not necessary, I'll play nice." Nams half mumbled, trying with no avail to pry herself out of the big lizard's grasp. Alater just continued to walk with his huge strides down the hallways, making semi-random turns. His room was not that of normal barracks for the other stormtroopers. People on his type of mission tended to get treated a bit better than others. Not to mention they had to move him away from the other stormtroopers. Eventually the small group reached a rather strange door and Alater pressed his eye to a small circular opening. A humming noise sounded from the door and then it slid open. Alater half tossed the two inside and shut the door behind himself.

The inside was hazy at best, foggy and dismal to tell the truth. Cushions on a gargantuan scale dotted the floors, a single refresher and a mini-bar were all that seemed to change in the decor. The only other unique thing was the heat. The room itself had to be 32 degrees in the room. Alater smiled to himself as both of the Twi'leks noticed the heat.

"Ah, a little cold, but just like home." Alater smiled, a giant toothy grin.

Rutian's steel blue eyes fell heavily upon the brilliant red Twi'lek. He blinked a bit, studying the two of them. They were obvious companions, a mutual respect amongst warriors. Rutian had neither a care, nor a want for such a level of comradely. He had always been alone, and his past was part of that.

"I wouldn't know. I was taken from my home, sold into slavery. There I was tortured for nearly five years, before I killed my captor and escaped." Rutian said, turning to fully face Nams. His lekku twitched in controlled rage as he thought on the events of his past. Not something he thought of lightly, but he felt some sort of need to explain himself to this strange woman.

"Afterwards I began to rebuild, to make my own life. I stole a ship, owned it eventually, and began to make a living shipping things. Not all of it was legal, but it put food in my mouth. I fell in love, but it was all for naught. She was an Imperial Agent, and had me arrested for smuggling and the murder of my previous captor. That's how I ended up here, trapped into service rather than in a work camp on some dismal planet. I haul 'special' cargo now, like Alater here, from place to place instead of living free; all in the name of your precious 'Empire'. "Rutian responded, seeming to spit out the word Empire, like a curse.

Alater watched from Nams to Rutian, sipping slightly on his beverage. The tension had changed, from dangerous to a sort of looming feeling. He sighed as the heat seemed to soak in between his scales. The room was getting hotter, as he had secretly turned up the dial. He figured either they would get too hot to fight, or the heat would just make him feel up to stopping the pair of them.

Rutian returned the stare, almost a glare, before blinking slowly and sighing.

"I can't say what urged me to attempt to explain myself to you, and I doubt it will arise again. Without disrobing I feel it would be impossible for either of us to fully understand the situation of the other and I doubt either of us are in the mood to care." Rutian muttered back in his own native tongue, Lekku giving away very little other than that required by the strange language.

Alater watched the exchange with moderate amusement. He often spoke in his own language to people like Doc, who understood the hisses and tail twitches that made conversation amongst different Barabels possible.

"Well I'm glad the pair of you are getting along. Rutian is staying with me, as he seems to not mind the heat much. Apparently we're working the same mission?" Alater asked Nams, more of a comment then a question though. He sipped his beverage, alcohol seeming to actually have its expected effect this night. For once he found himself happy away from home. It was a rare experience.

Rutian smiled a sadistic grin and turned from Alater back to Namyr.

"Though short, this exchange on a personal note was...pleasurable." He half-whispered in their native tongue, before turning to rise and move towards Alater's refresher to clean the slight sweat that had begun to accumulate on his skin and make his loose robes stick to his body.

Alater looked over the mission, memorizing every detail, down to the type of print used. It was something he had been taught to do, and it would save your life if you did it correctly. Often times the plans behind the missions were not important at all, as they generally went out the window when the bolts started flying. The best laid plans of mice and men.

While the pair went over their plans, Rutian simply slipped out of the towel and into another loose robe. He didn't think anybody had really noticed, and hadn't really cared. He carefully positioned himself in another large pillow so as to be facing Alater, with Nams only in his peripheral vision. She was attractive, as far as females went, maybe more so as the afamed beauty of the Twi'leks. Her Lekku weren't nearly as long as his, but she wasn't exact born royalty either; though it hadn't saved him years of pain and shame.

Carefully he went over his own datapad, flight plans and other hazards that might be found on the planet. He wasn't even sure what he was flying yet, they hadn't told him. He kept finding himself peering out of the corner of his eye to catch a glimpse at Namyr. Something about her wasn't right, it made him uneasy and paranoid. The skin on the back of his neck tightened.

Slowly he reached for his Lyaer'tsa, the metal case slipping in between his long fingertips. The small flicking noise of the clasps opening attracted Nam's attention, but she wasn't near fast enough. The long staff, snapped together and the blade flipped outwards, pointing straight at the woman's neck.

You must kill...kill her! She's not to be trusted! Remember! The voice spoke, so long since he had heard its embrace.

"Kill..." Rutian muttered to himself, just before he lunged.

Alater had reacted quickly, the look in Rutian's eyes and the change of his smell had given him fair warning. As the blade had come up, Alater had moved from his seat and was within arms reach before the Twi'lek had made his move. A merciless blow landed upon Aslond's chest, followed shortly by the whole weight of the seven and a half foot tall lizard. Aslond struggled but to no avail, slowly calming down as he regained control.

"Please, excuse," Alater said, grabbing hold of Rutian's weapon as they struggled on the ground, "him, he's not normally like this."

"Nams!" Alater growled, but Rutian put a hand on Alater's shoulder. He frowned a bit and then shook his head.

"She's not prepared to deal with certain things, and she's right. The reason I'm flying for you is that I can't pass a phych evaluation; I'm technically not suppose to be behind the throttle. I can't control when I have my little outbreaks and frankly they are dangerous. I almost killed Trevor more than once. Let her go." Rutian said as he began to untangle himself from Alater.

His weapon had clattered to the floor, and he didn't even seem to care. Something about this entire day had gone wrong from the very beginning and now this. He slumped down on a large cushion, showing some humanity in his face. With another slight frown he downed the remains of Namyr's drink. He looked up at Alater who sort of drifted towards a cushion and sat down, a pair of drinks in hand.

"She's not normally like that. I know she doesn't like other worm heads, especially males, but I think you really got under her skin. I doubt you'll have a problem coming with us, but I think you'll just have to stick with me. She's going to take a bit to calm down." Alater explained, handing Rutian another drink.

"It's all right my friend, women always need time. I'll be the first to admit that sometimes I'm odd, even dangerous." Rutian said, sipping lightly at the glass.

Rutian was squatted infront of Nams, his bladed staff supported by his left arm. The cold weather seemed to match his brilliant blue skin, though he couldn't say he was much a fan of being stranded, let alone stuck here with this particular crowd.

"A rocket came up and struck the landing repuslorlifts on the bottom of the ship. I managed to blow the detachment charges on the cockpit before we landed. The rest of the troopers are about a kilometer behind the crash site, all dead. Alater here tried to shield you from the blast, and got his stupid arse knocked unconscious for it. I think," he said, reaching out a finger to wipe the blood from Nam's face, "that his claw did this."

"What're we going to do now?" She asked, watching him carefully as she began to rifle through her medic pack. The thing was filled with every time of emergency that involved an injury, but not for keeping you warm.

"The big lug of a lizard would know exactly what to do, but in this cold weather I'm afraid he may be out for a while, and I suggest we just stay here in this cave. I don't like to have to say it, but our warmth is about all we can afford to worry about at the moment." Rutian said, all in his native tongue. If they were being listened in on, at least they would have some privacy, though if that were the case they were dead anyway. A well placed plasma grenade or a man with a good shot would take them down easily as they were, trapped in a cave.

"I'm not quite sure what to do with him. His scales seem to have protected him from everything but being beaten on the head. It's all internal." Nams said, surveying Alater before helping Rutian drag him to the back of the cave.

When they had properly propped the Sergeant against the wall of the cave Rutian slumped down against the wall himself, and Nams followed suit, her shoulder brushing his. Rutian looked at her slightly, then resigned to rest his weapon across their knees, as it was too large to do anything else with.

"I suppose I should apologize for attacking you earlier. Ever since...ever since I escaped I've been plagued by outbursts like that." Rutian explained, fingering the leather grip of his Lyaer'tsa.

Rutian nodded slightly and then winced from the pain that shot up his tchin and rattled his brain and he let out a slight yelp. Apparently, in his distraction from the crash he had failed to notice that his strangely long lekku had come loose from their normal tie back. Few Twi'leks tied back their lekku unless they were to enter combat, but with his own paranoid and cynical view Rutian's were nearly always tied back. Naymr looked at him with slight sympathy, pain to the lekku was something all Twi'leks feared for it was horribly painful and could cause permanent brain damage.

"I suppose," Rutian began, settling himself against Nams and the heat blanket, "that I would be back home, still exiled to the Bright Lands."

"Exiled?! What did you do to earn banishment to the Bright Lands?" Nams demanded, as royalty was generally only exiled because their fellow council members had died, or horrible crimes.

"I guess you could say I was something of a scapegoat. I'll leave it at that." Rutian said, turning his slightly to either stare down at Alater's lump of unconscious mass or at some unseen universe forming on the stone floor of the cave. Thoughts began to form in his head, thoughts he didn't like.

Why are you trusting her, telling her these things?!

I don't know. What does it matter to you anyway? All you ever thirst for is blood and death. Can't I live in peace and remember my home?

You have no home, your home is right there laying across your lap. I helped you survive when others betrayed you, and listening to me kept you alive. She will try to kill you.

You're crazy...I'm crazy. I don't deserve this, and neither does she. Just leave me alone.

The mental battle raging in his head brought pangs of fury and pain to his head, and it showed on his face. Memories of the past flashed and Rutian just shut his eyes. Alater would wake up, they would all move to somewhere more safe and work on getting out of this dismal place. Then they would return to the ship, and all go their separate ways.

Rutian sighed a bit and looked up at the roof of the cave. He was stuck here, forced to hide in a blanket just for warmth because he lacked the expertise to survive in such an environment and the one person that did was knocked unconcious and had the distinct displeasure to be cold blooded. All would eventually be well.

"I suppose all that you don't know is the source of my pain. After my exile, I was eventually captured and sold off, but instead of as a worker it was as a slave. There was a rich woman with exotic tastes that required a companion, but it wasn't what you think." Rutian started, pretending not to notice Namyr had placed her head against his shoulder again.

"She kept me locked in a basement of her building, and every night when she returned she would disrobe me, and we would fight. The Lyaer'tsa is a horrible weapon, made to cause immense pain but never kill. Every night we would battle, and every day she would leave me, bleeding and broken. She was some kind of old master, she never fought with the same style twice in a row. I've learned so much that eventually I had to invent my own way of combating her. With over one thousand cuts I left her, to bleed to death." Rutian continued, his lekku twitching a bit in sorrow as he began to speak in their native tongue.

"Afterwards, I took her ship and her money and left. There I traveled across the galaxy, smuggling cargo, precious cargo. Mostly I dealt in slaves," Rutian paused, considering his own words carefully, and decided to keep that secret to himself, "but that is not what brought me here. There was a woman, a human woman, that I transported once. She was not cargo, just a traveling companion that was willing to pay. She captured my heart, and I fell in love, but it was for naught. She was an Imperial Agent and had me arrested and sent to a prison camp for nearly a year before I was given the chance to join the Navy. Apparently they heard of my skills as a pilot. It didn't matter." Rutian stopped here and flexed his right hand on his thigh.

"I've flown for two different squadrons, but my most interesting work has been alone with Alater here. I don't know if he's told you, but he spends most of his time outside of the normal Corps and when he needs a lift I'm the guy they always call." His face became something softer as he turned his head to look at the large lizard, and did something with the skin coloration of his cheeks akin to blushing when he realized he had managed to position himself to seeming plant a kiss on Namyr's head.

"...Please, excuse me, it wasn't,"

Rutian blinked a bit, trying to keep himself awake. If they fell asleep, they probably wouldn't wake up. Whatever the dangers were of this planet he also knew there would be people out there looking for the three of them, and that being found meant certain death. If he was awake at least he could die fighting, not sleeping all curled up in a space blanket. Rutian eyed Alater out of the corner of his eye, thinking he had seen him stir.

"The big lizard has caused me more trouble than he's worth on more than one occasion. I remember once, the first time I had to pick him up, he had me land the shuttle in the middle of a clearing, enclosed by woods. What I wasn't told was the damn LZ was hot and as soon as I get close bolts started bouncing off my hull." Rutian stopped and took a deep breath before continuing.

"Not only did I have to haul his bleeding hulk of a body onto my ship, but afterwards I spent nearly 5 hours battling with him as he tried to resist having bullets and shrapnel picked out of his scales. An upset and injured Barabel is not exactly your best friend at all times. I completely understand what you went through." Rutian mumbled, eyes on the ceiling of the cave. He inched closer to Namyr, closing the last bit of space between there bodies, warmth crucial as they waited for Alater to wake up.

"Namyr?" Rutian asked, noticing that her breathing had begun to level out.

"Mmm?" She responded, drowsiness seeping into her normally harmonic voice.

"You need to stay awake. If we sleep we may never wake up, and what if Alater regains consciousness? He'll need us here."

Alater stirred a bit but Namyr didn't seem to notice, and the sergeant didn't open his eyes. It was sort of comforting, using the excuse of the freezing cold surrounding them to be close to another person again, another Twi'lek that didn't disgrace him by calling him just Aslond. That's why he always went by Rutian; humans didn't understand and Twi'leks never needed to know he was an exile from his own homeworld. It was the one shame that still followed him to his core, and would remain with him till his death bed.

"The slave trade of our people will never end, as our own people are responsible for it to begin with. Beauty such as yourself, a mistake of nature never meant to be brought to such eyes, will always draw the attentions of people interested in owning somebody rather than loving them, but what would I know of that." Rutian said, and immediately shut up. He had come dangerously close to revealing a secret that may even get him killed.

Silently he leaned back against the wall, lounging as best as he could. He tightened his long fingers against Nam's, the light pressure letting his fingers slip in between hers around his weapon, both giving him comfort one no more than the less. As if only as an after thought he lightly touched one of his long lekku against Nam's.

Rutian shivered right with her, his own sharp teeth finding his bottom lip and drawing it into his mouth, something to chew on.

"I...can't." Rutian responded, silence befalling him for the first time in what had to be hours. He stood at a cross roads, lekku entwined with a Twi'lek female, something he had thought himself to hate, but unable to share the secrets he held. They would forge a chasm between them,  for his past represented all they both hated.

"Why?" Namyr asked, her tone curious and sweet at the same time. She wanted to know more of him, of his past, but it was the only secret he held anymore. It was what made the darkness within his mind, the creeping death in his soul, and it would tear this small bridge he had forged apart. Then again, it was what he had done, who he was, and somebody deserved to hear it.

"Because I am everything we hate. When I told you I smuggled slaves, it was only a half truth. My cargo was usually explicitly Twi'lek, men, women, and children all alike. I hated myself, and at the same time hated them. These were my people, the people that had banished me from my home world into exile. I punished them for the things that had happened to me." Rutian stopped, and felt like he needed to move away from Namyr. He didn't deserve to be here with her like this.

"That's my past. That is what causes the demons in my head, a self destructive passion for pain, a need to fill what was taken away from me. I'm sorry."

Rutian didn't even flinch.

Maybe now is the day I die, retribution given to me by one the same as so many I harmed over the years. I deserve this. He thought to himself, closing his eyes as he felt is fingers crushing against his own weapon. Sitting as she was, Namyr had almost complete control over his hands, but he still had his legs, and he knew how to kill with just his body.

"I was angry, at first. I had spent the last five years being tortured, every day, made to fight for my very existence. I was in a rage, and I felt that it was our people that had put me there. They had exiled me, sold me off, and left me for dead as if I meant nothing to them. They became as equally unimportant to me." He said, a small glimpse of that rage going unseen in his eyes, a silent flash of memory. He flexed his toes as her grip became harder on him, joints beginning to creak near the breaking point against the leather covered handle.

"Then, it changed, I couldn't get out. Something seemed to have placed me there, something controlling me. I realized what I was doing was wrong, but I just didn't care. It wasn't even as enjoyable as killing, it was just what I was doing. There is no excuse for my actions." Rutian said, and moved his lekku apart from hers slowly, so as to not aggravate her more. He sighed deeply as he thought his next words carefully.

"These are my crimes, for which there is no excuse. These are the secrets that haunt me every moment of my life. I find myself here at your mercy, but I will not fight you. If your anger is so, take retribution here, for your people, with the Lyaer'tsa as is your right."

"Thank you." Was all Rutian could say. His hands were bleeding, and he thought one of his fingers was broken, but it didn't matter. This was one step forward, one step closer to sanity. Here, Rutian had made a stand against his nature, and reached out to another being, another Twi'lek, a female. In response she had shown him the face of his own darkness, and had offered her hand. Now all he had to do was grasp that hand and pull himself away, out of the darkness. Silently he thanked Namyr, and traced a single pointed nail down her long arm.

Namyr let her arms drop from Rutian's face and Rutian wrapped the blanket around her shoulders to cover them both again. The temperature was getting lower and lower, and they knew not when Alater would awake.

OOC:

Posting in progress :P