Shifting Sands...

[Julius Sedaire]

Glavo had been back on Socorro for a few days. Burned some S-Thread boosters and utilized the calypho compass anchored on his spine to make the trip remarkably less bothersome. And remarkably less time consuming. And so he had sat, waiting, and trying to restore his old habs and the Academy grounds. One had wandered to him, [member="Zephyr Carrick"]. There had been a duel, a moment of teaching. But there had been no others and no more yet. But his meditations urged and told him to wait, that someone or something was coming yet still.

Being away from the Outback worried him, but thanks to [member="Alec Rekali"] and his own mission, things had been done that allowed him some communication back to his affiliates and such there. For the moment, he sat out in the courtyard of what was once the Jedi Academy and Temple for Guardians of the Old Republics' Order. A collection of training droids floated, stepped, and charged at him... Four floating droids lanced out with bolts of numbing fire, and four elite lightsaber training droids stabbed and slashed.

In the middle of it all, pouring sweat, was Julius, the chitinous compass along his spine, stripped of all but his almost tight fitting Corellian cut trousers and boots, a silver bladed lightsaber whos' hilt glowed faintly from the songsteel it was made of. Blinding speed, and agility, grace inherent. A few times, he seemed to ignore gravity, running up or along the walls of the villa, flipping off them. Minutes and moments later the four floating drones lay idle, tagged back by deflected bolts, and two lightsaber droids lay deactivated, and Glavo stood en guard, waiting. But not for the Droids. He had felt someone approach... What he had seen in his visions.

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

Spoiler

• 4x Tyee Remote Training Droid
• 3x Zuguruk Tyro Saber Droid
• 1x Zuguruk Typhojem Saber Droid

 

[Carbon]

A duster scraped gently across the ground, the brown leather tanned by too long in the sun. It was draped across narrow shoulders, held in place by gloves and a pair of what appeared to be combat gloves. Rising from within the collar was a battered Mandalorian helmet, and above that, curiously enough, sat a straw hat with the brim pulled low. A pistol was likely set onto the hip of the gunslinger's belt set about a thin waist, but it was impossible to see beneath the coat.

And that was fine by Yarva, who for all appearances was the quintessential traveler. If not in personality, than certainly visually.

Still, how he'd gotten here he couldn't say, and nor did he care to think on it. Approaching [member="Glavo Pahro"], through he couldn't quite see him yet, he nonetheless couldn't shake the feeling he was supposed to be here.

Or was, at the very least, expected.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

The person, the presence, was here. Watching him. Visually speaking Glavo couldn't really see his new arrival, but he could feel the person. Memories from other lives he had glimpsed in his accident shifted and swirled. Voices he had begun to press and quiet roared forth. It was a man, with a muted history but bright path. Not 'bright' in the terms of moral orient, but in terms of just sheer potential. The rush of remembrance left him dizzied, and he rocked back in his meditative posture of waiting on the oppoenents. Eyes snapped open and he rose rather suddenly, but in a smooth and relaxed way. The droids were silently and brutally overwhelmed in a flurry of motion few could track, and the saber was clipped to his belt, inert and extinguished. Preparations would be needed to be made. The young on would have things to be taught, and so he would need to stay.

And off into the habs he strode, not even yet acknowledging the arrival with even a quip. But he did look over his shoulder and jerk his head to the main hab, with several smaller domes branching off the larger one. It was unmistakably a gesture of obedience expected, but not in an overbearing manner. The lithe spacer, dressed in green jedi clothing minus certain parts, sauntered in with the odd gait of someone who had spent a fair amount of time amongst the stars, either for their lifetime or concentrated. He disappeared eventually into the hab, and what sounded like boiling water came out across the desert air, followed by Glavo leaning against the door frame. In one hand was a metal flask that shone in the sun, and the other held a battered and chipped soup/tea mug type thing, steam and the scent of alcohol and floral notes in the steam.

"Well, come on if your comin in. Sun is down soon and it gets cold here of a night. We can talk while we eat, deal? You look skinny enough a meal won't harm you."

Force, but I hope I am remembering this right...

[member="Yarva Adisu"]

 

[Carbon]

Following someone home out of the dark wasn't his idea of a good time, but Yarva swept his duster around his shoulders and trailed after the man as he disappeared into the habs. Finding himself face to face with some alochol, he gave the drinks a dark look and then cast a glance up to [member="Julius Sedaire"], a worried frown creasing his lips. "I can handle the cold better than I can handle unfamiliar food."