A metal pole and some retroactive nostalgia.

[Vulpesen]

Tsolan's hands were brought together as he meditated in his room at the sith temple on Coruscant. Almost a year ago, he had pledged his allegiance to the sith, and now he was in another session to affirm his allegiance to himself. The darkness was his home, but he couldn't afford to lose all of his light. Slowly and steadily, the cloud of black left him and with a blinding light, he was brought to a happier time. A time where his name was Vulpesen, and not some title and a pseudonym.


One Year Ago:


"Another day, another person, another task. Come one Ace." Vulpesen rested back in his seat as the ship traveled through the spaceports of his destination. "Beautiful Alderaan, always wanted to go here." His head turned towards the cockpit. "Hey Captain, how we doing?"

"Very good sir, we'll be landing momentarily."

Before long, Vulpesen found himself walking to the meeting point. In his hand was a datapad showing the coordinates. After being contacted by a man, the jedi had elected to help him in a small mining effort, and after the sue of several contacts, he had found the location of a phrik deposit and now he was on his way to harvest it with a little help.

He reached the location and searched for a place to sit, heading for a large rock. After dusting off his dark robes, he relaxed against the stone while his men pulled out their equipment and he waited for his business partner to arrive. "Ace, what was his name again?"

"[member="Athrun Zala"]"

 

[Athrun Zala]

[member="Darth Tsolan"]


Athrun Zala; it was a name never spoken outside the Imperial Guard and never uttered in the presence of any commoners. Like all other guardsman, he was an echo, a shadow; never seen unless he meant to be seen, and even then he was not Athrun Zala, but the Empire itself. At least until he left the Remnant.

The actual term was deserted, but he preferred to think that he left. Who knew how many people they had looking for him, or whether he'd been assumed dead. They were probably too small to effectively scour the galaxy to find one missing soldier, when they had the problems of the larger government such as the Republic to worry about. No, he'd probably disappeared off the raider like he had intended to. But he refrained from using his name as much as possible.

And so he worried a bit, all through the time it took him to arrive at Alderaan. What if the Republic figured out who he was? What if this Jedi had Imperial contacts, and dug up his past? There was a reason he elected to leave his guard armor behind on his ship; he didn't need this Jedi arresting him because he thought he was a guardsman. Much as he had enjoyed his former position, that was a thing of the past.

Of course he still clung to the armor and the weapons he'd used over the past years. The armor was his second skin, and he felt naked shedding it. His forcepike had been his sword and his shield in the battles he had found himself in. And that's why he was extremely annoyed and irritated when he lost it. He supposed it was for the best, ridding himself of the Imperial logo etched on the side and any other markings linking it to the Remnant. But it still burned, like losing a part of him. And that's why he was getting a replacement. It wouldn't be the same thing, but it would be close enough, and he could fashion it to fit his own style.

He was still brooding when the speeder carrying him from the starport arrived, and he hopped over the door onto the ground. His pitch black trenchcoat flared behind him as his boots touched the dirt, and for once he felt the air rush past his shirt and his pants. He felt incredibly light on his feet, and although he felt he could fly if he tried, he felt incredibly vulnerable. Clad in only black clothes reminscent of an ancient Republic uniform, he strode over, his hands finding their way into his pockets. There they fidgeted with the credit chips, making a slight 'chink chink' sound as he neared the gathering of people.

His emerald eyes scanned each one, and discarded them one by one as he searched for his query. It took him a few seconds to find two people who did not look like they belonged in the mines, and he moved over, his eyes squinted slightly due to the sun overhead.

"Hello!" he called, flashing a strained smile that looked partially due to not being able to see well. "I'm looking for," he paused as he tried to recall the name, and more importantly the title of the Jedi he was supposed to meet. He refrained from pulling out his datapad to find the name, lest he make the man think he was rude enough to forget it. "Master Vulpesen?" He would go with Master; at the very least he would be corrected if he shot too high. He didn't want to be thrown across the dirt because he'd callen a Master a padawan. That would've been the biggest insult of the year.

 

[Vulpesen]

Of the second man, there would be no sign, unless of course you counted the members of his crew. No, Ace would actually be far harder to see, a glowing blue shape on the shadow's shoulder. Speaking of whom, it was Ace who alerted Vulpesen to the man's appearance by flicking his bond-mate's face with his tail. Turning around, the jedi gave the ex-imperial a polite bow. "At your service. I'll take it your the client who asked for the phrik?"

[member="Athrun Zala"]

 

[Athrun Zala]

[member="Darth Tsolan"]


Athrun's eyes focused on the man who turned to face him, noting the dark brown robes he wore. Yes, this man was definitely a Jedi if his clothes were any indication. His eyes travelled back up to the man's face, noting his slightly longish brown hair and the fur on his chin. His eyes seemed to indicate that he was friendly enough, and he seemed quite polite with his bow. He was put momentarily at ease by the man's actions, and flashed a more pleasant, if almost genuine smile.

"Yes, that's me, Athrun," he confirmed with a nod of his head. He might've bowed back, had it not been for the fact that it seemed far too beneath him to even attempt. Pride simply wouldn't allow more than a head tilt as he climbed up the slight incline that led to the rock the Jedi had been sitting on. "Unless of course there's another client asking for phrik and I have to wait in line," Athrun joked as his eyes glanced away momentarily for another stranger who didn't belong. "I have the credits in full," he said, his hand jingling some of his pocket change. "Do you want them upfront or after you get the ore?"

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen turned and started towards his men and their makeshift mining operation as they started to dig into the ground. "After the ore. Of course, I'll want some for myself so my price is likely to be a bit more of a guideline." His saber ignited as he approached the grounds and he set to work, using it to carve around the ore underneath. "Whenever you're ready. The amount I decide to take will be dependent on how much you aid me. You'll certainly get most of it, but remember that sixty percent does qualify as most."

[member="Athrun Zala"]

 

[Athrun Zala]

[member="Darth Tsolan"]


Athrun let go of the credits in his pockets and removed his hands, following the Jedi as he moved towards where the other miners were. He eyed the lightsaber as it hissed on, and his eyes travelled the length of the blade. For a moment he wasn't sure whether it was going to swing back at him or not, so he gave the Jedi a wide berth as he moved around him. Surprisingly, he was using it to cut into the ground. He'd never thought of a lightsaber as a tool of labor, but he could certainly see the advantages. What surprised him though were the Jedi's next words.

"Huh?" Athrun stared at Vulpesen, contemplating what he'd meant by "aiding" him. Did he mean actually getting his hands dirty and digging for the ore? "You mean you...want me to take one of those shovels and dig?" He thought he would show up, pay for the ore, and take it off to some friends to craft it into a forcepike. He wasn't expecting to get his hands dirty doing menial labor.

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen let out a small laugh at the man's surprise as he continued to carve for the ore, adjusting each time it stopped his saber from moving. "You thought I wanted a supervisor? No my friend, you're going to help me. So yes, I do expect you to dig." No doubt he came from some sort of high class. But if he was in the situation he was in now, there was a large chance that he was going to figure out, life outside the comforts of riches, often requires hard work.

[member="Athrun Zala"]

 

[Athrun Zala]

[member="Darth Tsolan"]


Athrun looked from the Jedi to the workers, who were already digging for the ore themselves. He frowned, wondering why he had hired this man if he knew this would be the result. Yes, he did need the phrik if he didn't want his forcepike breaking with the first blow, but not like this. Wasn't that why the Jedi had hired the workforce? So that he wouldn't have to do it? And yet there he was, cutting through the ground with his light stick, like an ordinary menial laborer. And he expected Athrun to do it too.

"Oh," he voiced aloud, trying to suppress the sudden irritation he felt. He moved off to the workforce's transportation, muttering under his breath as he grabbed a shovel and moved to a clear spot where the others weren't working. He eyed both the ground and the distasteful tool in his hand, before he slammed the end into the dirt. It made a mildly satisfying clink, and he twisted it to unearth a layer of rock and dirt.

It wasn't that he wasn't strong enough for the job; his Imperial training had forged muscles capable of withstanding onslaughts of attacks and constant battle. He just never imagined he'd be using it for anything like this. He was half tempted to pitch the shovel at Vulpesen and walk off, but that wouldn't have gotten him anywhere. If it hadn't been for the fact that the Jedi had to secure contracts and mining rights from various governments, he could've done this himself without involving anyone at all--since in the end he was doing it himself anyway. He just shook his head as he continued to dig, his shovel hammering into something beneath the crust and refusing to go through. That must've been the phrik, and he noted that the Jedi's lightsaber stopped every so often, further proving that the ore was lightsaber resistant.

"Do you always use your lightsaber for menial labor?" He didn't bother using a better description for the task. "Not going to be able to lift with it." He heaved a bit, pulling up a large chunk of rocks and rolling it to the side. Yeah, he wanted to see the Jedi doing that. Holding a weightless stick with a light coming out the end was easy. Using a shovel? That would be a fun sight.

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen chuckled as he heard the undertones of distaste. He wasn't a cruel person, but often it was fun to watch the high and mighty deal with the revelation that materials did come form work. "A lightsaber isn't just a weapon. It is a tool with various uses, cone of which is carving out stone from the ground. As for lifting the ores, that's why I have the force." To prove his point, he lifted his hand, a good sized chuck of phrik lifting weightlessly with it. "You uncover the large chunks, I will be here to free them." He heard one of his men call and he walked over to start on the next uncovered ore. "Just because an item has a stated use, does not mean it can't have another purpose. For instance, I sometimes use an escape pod as a boarding pod when an enemy presents me with a fortress."

[member="Athrun Zala"]

 

[Athrun Zala]

[member="Darth Tsolan"]


Cheat. He knew he shouldn't have expected the Jedi to lift the phrik ore out of the ground. He just thought one of the other workers would extract the ore. The magic force had disappeared from consideration until he watched the purplish rocks float through the air as if they were feathers. It looked as if the Jedi wouldn't be using that shovel, and he was disappointed in an irritated sort of way. Yes, the force as it was called was handy, and he did respect anyone with that level of power...but not at humiliating him and making him look like an idiot. He should've known he'd do that anyway. Athrun sighed, momentarily defeated.

As he eyed the piece of ore the Jedi had tossed out of the ground, he wondered just how much sixty percent would be. Or even ninety, if he worked hard enough. His eyebrows twitched as he unearthed a clod, and looked down into the mixture of brown and purple dirt. He guessed the Jedi had picked a good vein, unless the phrik was interspersed between rocks and making it appear more than it was. His shovel hit the ore again, and he scraped the surface to remove the rocky parts.

"Yes, I'd imagine so," Athrun said, the irritation leaving his voice and being replaced by a slightly sullen tone. "Must be quite handy then," he referred to the lightsaber. His shovel hit ground again and he stopped momentarily, looking up to where Vulpesen had moved. "How much is this anyway? Unless I'm mis-seeing things, it looks like enough for several blades and some."

 

[Vulpesen]

Vulpesen pointed to the rock on the ground while his other hand was used to jostle the stone in the ground. "That chunk we just pulled out can made a small piece of phrik but not much. You see, much of the ore is lot during the forging process. Besides, if you get enough you might be able to make something else, say an armor to company it." To emphasize his point he moved his saber and tapped the mask at his hit, demonstrating its inability to be cut. "Unless of course you want to get cut in half the first time you find yourself needing that saber."

[member="Athrun Zala"]

 

[Athrun Zala]

[member="Darth Tsolan"]


Athrun's eyes fell to the saber in Vulpesen's hands and the brilliant beam of light, and shuddered to think of that lightsaber passing through his midsection. He had a scar on his chest as testament to the fearful weapon's power, and the Jedi was right; his armor hadn't stopped the saber. He'd killed the force user anyway, but he'd gone off with a frightful burn, and his armor in need of repair. And then he imagined having a full suit of that lightsaber resistant material; he'd be almost invincible. But he would have to dig up a LOT of phrik, and judging from what Vulpesen said, he needed twice as much phrik as the size of a suit of armor...maybe three times as much. And he didn't want to give up his guard armor. Maybe he could ask an armor smith to infuse his armor with a layer of phrik...would that work? He wasn't exactly knowledgable in smithing, and he wasn't sure he wanted to ask any old crafter about it.

"No, I'd rather not," Athrun said, a smirk appearing on his face. "But I don't make a habit of running up to the first Jedi I see and insulting their choice of attire." Or a sith for that matter. He actually wasn't sure how a confrontation with one of their kind would go. And he knew he'd feel more comfortable having his force pike in hand again. "No offense to your attire, of course," he remarked as he shifted his eyes to the ground and began digging around the piece in the ground he'd found. Just as he had thought he'd freed the piece, he'd found it extended further, but this time he seemed to have freed it all. "Having some pieces might be nice though," he agreed with a grunt as he attempted to get his shovel underneath the phrik and lift it out. "Would have to find an armor smith who knows what he's doing."

 

[Vulpesen]

"The one who raised me has quite a few contacts. I'm sure we can find someone who can help you. As for my attire," He lifted up a part of the brown fabric and heaved a small sigh. "I don't much like it either. In fact, its one of the reasons that I made my own armor. So I wouldn't have to charge into battle wearing this. If I'm gonna whoop ass, I'd rather do it with style."

[member="Athrun Zala"]

 

[Athrun Zala]

[member="Darth Tsolan"]


"Wait." Zala almost dropped his shovel, and steadied it as he looked up Vulpesen. "You don't like wearing robes? But I thought all Jedi--heck even all force users--liked wearing that junk." He waved a hand towards the Jedi's robes, and stared disbelievingly at him. Evidently there was a lot he didn't know about this Jedi--or perhaps, Jedi in general. "I thought it helped you in battle, cause you don't have all those bits and pieces getting in the way, or some such thing." Personally, he didn't think his Guard armor got in the way, but it was fashioned so it wouldn't; there were cracks between plates, but that was the cost of mobility. And then he'd seen other sentients, mostly mercs, who looked like they'd fall over if shoved, so great was their armor mass.

"Ah, here's a piece," Zala said, interrupting his previous train of thought, as he lifted it out with the shovel. He leaned down, and picked it up, blowing on it to knock off the dirt, and brushing the rest off with his fingers. He tried to gauge as he examined it, given the extreme loss of ore in the smelting, how much it would make. Maybe an eight to a fourth of his forcepike. "This might make a short dagger," he mused.

 

[Vulpesen]

He shook his head at the question,, though he couldn't help but laugh at [member="Athrun Zala"]'s tone. "At heart, you'll find people like me do have a sense of normality. The robes are comfortable, its just that they also come in terrible colors. I hate browns and I prefer the midnight blacks and blues of my armor which are far more practical for battle. Light, but capable of stopping the saber of some blade happy sith." As Zala found another chunk, Vulpesen walked over to inspect it. "You're right about that. Actually, I could use another set of daggers. Some that the enemy won't be hacking into pieces." He pulled away a par of is robe to show what he was talking about, revealing an extensive set of daggers hidden in the fabric.

 

[Athrun Zala]

[member="Darth Tsolan"]


Normality; for a culture that clung to peace only and never engaging in battle, while preaching about the light side of the force, that concept seemed laughable. Perhaps their philosophy wasn't as "weak" as had been presented to him. Or perhaps the Jedi and Imperials were much the same, and the Jedi were just hypocrites for claiming otherwise. Evidently this one seemed to fit the category of the warlike Jedi that did not follow his own philosophies. But he could debate about that all day and never get any answers.

"You could just dye your robes," Zala commented in response to the terrible colors, and he watched as Vulpesen came over. His emerald eyes flickered down to the daggers beneath the man's robes, and he noted yet another not so normality. "Daggers." He hadn't meant to make any phrik daggers, though the idea did appeal to him...maybe a sword. He set the phrik piece down with the other discovered chunk, and moved back to dig. "Now that's surprising." He stuck his shovel down into the ground and heaved. "I'm learning more surprising things about the Jedi even now. "I know that daggers are pretty, but why not use your lightsaber? It's the Jedi's weapon, cuts through just about anything, except that," he gestured towards the phrik ore. "And it blocks other lightsabers. What, does your lightsaber run out?"

 

[Vulpesen]

He let out another laugh as dying his robes was suggested, this one lasting for several long moments. "Very funny! Carn would have my hide if I did anything like that. Hell, he hates it enough that I break the tradition of having an attachment. Actually, I think the only reason i haven't been put on trial for tying a sash wrong, is because as much as he hates how I do things, he can't deny that my results are quite above average. As for my daggers," He pulled the blade from his robes. "I use my sabers quite often in combat. However, I've lost them once before so I got myself a set of throwing blades if my enemy is too far for a simply swing." To emphasize his point he held out his hand and shot the dagger through the air, its speed enhanced through the force to the point that it would seem like an arrow.

[member="Athrun Zala"]