A Warm Welcome

[Lord Gaius]

Hasjo stood outside the Jedi Temple, awaiting a transfer from a planet he quite couldn't recall. He was exhausted. He'd been stretched thin from constant intrigue and fighting, he was glad to finally relax. Even if relaxing mean't giving a tour to a fresh padawan. He clasped his hands behind his back and glanced up at the incoming transport, delivering the Jedi. His heart swelled with pride, for he had been given the honour to guide him through the Temple. While many wouldn't think this an honour, he did.

The propulsion drives died down, and his heart skipped a beat. The rear tray began to slid down, landing on the ground with a clunk. Here he was.

 

[Sirak Kolar]

Standing inside the transport, Sirak had only the slightest hesitation as the door opened. Today was the day he was finally come to the Ossus Jedi Academy, and he was undeniable proud of his accomplishment. Surprisingly, he was the only Padawan to be transferred on this shuttle and it gave him the sensation of importance that should have eluded the more well meditated Jedi. The corners of his mouth turned upwards as light broke through the open exit of the transport. Sirak slowly moved out of its metal shelter, his chest swelling as he came out of it.
As the light reached his eyes, he put up a large hand to block out its blinding light. His eye's adjusted after only a moment, and his smile returned as he looked to the man who waited for him. Although smaller than him considerably, Sirak looked up to him as a guide for the time being. His experience in the temple would help him exceptionally in the future, even if just for navigational purposes.
He reached a hand outwards to Hasjo the distance between them closed, speaking in his usual low bass of a voice.

"Hasjo Hallu, I presume? I'm Sirak Kolar. The newest apprentice to this fine Academy."

 

[Lord Gaius]

The man was considerably taller than him. He was a Zabrak to boot. They often were naturally fit, and so were Nautolans - but for other reasons. Nautolans were amphibious with humanoid bodies, requiring to be athletic and moderately fit for one to swim excessively without tiring. Hasjo shook the mans hand firmly, clamping his larger green, webbed hand over Sirak's. "I am indeed Hasjo Hallu. I am to be your guide today. Shall we begin?" He motioned towards the two, looming front doors and proceeded ahead.

Walking through the main hallway, Hasjo glanced over with his black, emotionless, beady eyes. They remained unblinking, a natural trait of his race that made others feel squeamish. Humans tend to say to him it was unnatural not to blink. He usually deathly-calm told them it was unnatural for him to be above water, and unless they wanted to be below it, they should keep their mouths kaput. Though he would be joking when he said this. Though it was true, a large portion of his race lived underwater, and even fewer ever left their planet.

"What are your goals here, Sirak?" Hasjo asked politely, yet keeping his deadly calm tone he was known for. "I personally serve in the Navy as Captain of the Jalor Section. Though I am reconsidering my position. I joined to keep peace, and with war looming on the horizon, peace cannot be kept. I may resign before I will be forced to slaughter populations. However short my reign would be as Captain, very short indeed. I plan to join the arts of the Jedi Temple Guard on Coruscant once I am to be Knighted."

 

[Sirak Kolar]

"I have put little thought into it as of yet. I must aquire my bearings and steady ground before reaching higher. Simply put, I intend to learn the ways of Exotic Weapons as I've already put time into." He spoke pridefully, as if he'd already mastered such an art. As was the way of his people, and the way of Sirak himself. He could not help but to avert his ever pervasive gaze to all that passed them. He was completely intent on studying each of their faces, ignoring any sort of social awkwardness that may come of such a practice.

"You intend to go to Coruscant? I'd be in the hopes after my own Knightship that I might travel to the same place. Rather odd, don't you think?"
Smiling to himself, Sirak thought about it. The force very well could have seen it as fate the two would meet here, and intertwine their destinies together. Or it didn't, and this was simply a coincident. He could hardly tell at this point regardless, more focused on what he could perceive through sight than what he could through feeling.

 

[Lord Gaius]

"Exotic weapons? As a Jedi Temple Guard I will be studying the Double-Bladed Lightsaber. I hear they are harder to master, but they can make enemies stampede over each other running for cover. It requires long, sweeping movements rather than stabs and thrusts due to it's length. Because the weapon is difficult to master, few understand it. Typical lightsaber forms become difficult with such a weapon and require advanced and special training. Perhaps you could teach me a thing or two, if you have knowledge of this." Hasjo had rambled on, directing him through a doorway and into his personal quarters, of which he would be sharing with Hasjo. Many padawans shared rooms in Ossus, and for a few years, Hasjo had been on his own. Though he believed that for once in a long time, he had found someone he could bond well with.

 

[Sirak Kolar]

"I could teach you much of such a weapon, actually. My race has a penchant for such a tool."

Slowly adjusts his own bed, setting his large bag down near the foot of it. He quietly set his large weight onto its structure, stress groans emitting from it causing Sirak to form a small grin. He was proud of his size, as he was everything about himself. Once more the thought passed through his mind, forcing the grin to cede back inside of him. Jedi should not feel pride so strongly, and he'd have to mediate further on it to fix that.

Sighing, he began to speak once more to Hasjo.

"I actually trained with dual bladed weaponry as a child, and carry one currently.", he finishes saying, making a slow motion to his waist.

On it, lied the notorious long hilt of a double bladed light saber. The makeup was extremely ornate for a saber, and it drew attention to it for more reasons than simply being a light saber. It was wonderfully exquisite, and more beautiful than it was just a weapon or tool to be used. It was art on his belt.

 

[Lord Gaius]

To say the hilt was impressive would be an understatement. Hasjo stared at it longer than necessary, remarking on every single fine detail that had been placed into it. He hadn't noticed it earlier, but now he couldn't keep his eyes off the damn thing. Hasjo spoke up "Spectacular design, I must say." Hasjo moved across the room to his own bed, which was in pristine condition. He was clearly obsessed with keeping it perfection. It was a representation of his own self. Sitting down he retrieved his own hilt. It was plain, but noticeably small. Way too small for the Nautolan's large hands, it was more fit for a female human. Though he had made it himself. It only barely encompassed his palm when clasped around it. "I don't have much to show for my own" he commented.

@[member="Sirak Kolar"]

 

[Sirak Kolar]

"I don't have much to show for my own"

Sirak brought his gaze to Hasjo's hand, studying the rather small hilt. Although confused by its small size for the large man, he chose not to comment on it.

"Being an extension of yourself means the lightsaber should be like you. Mine is prideful, showing the intriquette effort I used to style it after my species ceremonial weapons, while yours shows effectiveness. They both do the same job, with just a varying amount of flair."

Sirak had hoped his words would reassure the Nautolan's own pride in his blade. Slowly, the Zabrak began opening his bag, and unpacking, making sure to keep the room in the same tidiness it was before he was to arrive. Sirak would have hated to be an intruder on another's space, long before he had arrived. He may be prideful, but he was hardly aggressive.

 

[Lord Gaius]

@[member="Sirak Kolar"]

Hasjo nodded, placing his lightsaber back to his belt. He stood from his bed and walked over to the control panel for the bedroom. He typed in a series of digits and suddenly a map burst to life on a holographic projector, filling in the room. "Code is 2936" he began to point "We're here" and then he dragged his finger "Training grounds are here. You can find everything on this." Hasjo gathered himself deep into his cloak and turned to Sirak "I'll be heading to the training grounds, if you wanted to show me a thing or two with that blade"

 

[Sirak Kolar]

Standing from his sitting position on the bed, he watches as Hasjo moves to the door. "Of course I could show you. Please, after you.", he says hiding his ever apparent grin. It hasn't even been a full day, and he was to already face off against another padawan in staged combat to test each others skills. Depending on how versed the other was in dual bladed weaponry, Sirak had full confidence in his ability to 'win'.