The Repeating Day - 10.138

[Akasha Khan]

As it happened, she was not the first one there. Akasha Khan was already in the first of the sparring rings, driving through a ferocious sequence of velocities with her lightstaff, whose twin blood-red blades thrummed like a cloud of angry hornets as they pinwheeled through the hot midday air.

The Orryxian stopped when she saw the Kufu mongoose padding toward her through the grass. "Oh, hello there," she said, dousing her blades. "Looking to get some early practice in?"

She dragged a paw across her muzzle, disturbing a few green, downy feathers that had been stuck there. One still clung doggedly to her chin.

[Ndonsa]

"Yes," Ndonsa replied, the feather on Akasha's face drawing her eyes. "Why were you not at lunch?" She walked over to the rack of wooden weapons near the rings and selected a staff. The training sabers would not appear until Loki arrived to teach a lesson. She gave the staff an experimental spin to test it's heft.

[Akasha Khan]

Akasha followed Ndonsa's eyes down to her chin and rubbed it vigorously until the feather came free and fluttered to the ground. "Oh, I already ate," she said. "Wouldn't mind some staff sparring if you're up for it."

She clipped her saber to her belt and drew her Echani fighting staff, a small, white cylinder that expanded into a seamless white pole about as tall as she was. It was lighter and springier than the wood staffs, more like a lightsaber in its responsiveness.

Akasha and Ndonsa ran a few two-person velocities before branching into a free-form spar - nothing too aggressive, just enough to prickle their fur with a light crop of sweat before Loki and the other trainees filtered in.

[Abarai Loki]

In an instant, the padawans were disarmed. The staves, which had been torn from their hands, sailed through the air and into Loki's grasp. And he then discarded them with a clatter.

"There will be no foolish staff-twirling or silly incantations in this class."

Akasha and Ndonsa both shared a fondness for hitting things with sticks, while the latter liked to channel her strength through methods of song and dance. That would simply not do. In recent weeks, he'd had his fill of ill-disciplined padawans with a penchant for fighting tactics that ranged from the unorthodox to the plain dirty. There were times when it felt like Ossus had become home not to the Jedi Order, but a travelling circus. It reflected poorly upon him and the other teachers; he'd been too lenient, too soft, too willing to accomodate the eccentric whims of his students who wanted to try something new. Well, not anymore. This was a new Loki; a harder Loki; and perhaps most importantly, because he'd missed lunch, this was a hungry Loki. A couple of training sabers were tossed to the two padawans before he reached the circle.

"Today," he announced to the class, who gathered around the presently occupied circle, "You are going to revisit the basics. That means no flourishes, no acrobatics, and absolutely no rule-breaking. I want you to prove to me that there is more than sawdust and air between your ears and that you have the capacity to follow simple instructions."

Here, he gestured to Ndonsa and Akasha.

"And since you two are so eager to fight, you can show the rest of the class how its done. Form Two, Makashi. I want to see an emphasis on technique. I want to see patience and I want to see skill. I want precision, efficiency, and the path of least resistance. I want-"

His speech was interrupted by a deep hollow growling sound that came from his midsection. Loki, who was briefly stunned by his belly's rebellious outburst and the pronounced silence that followed it, suddenly scowled at the padawans and snapped:

"Well, get on with it!"

[Ndonsa]

Makashi. The dueling form. Ndonsa looked at her training saber, almost as if she'd never held one before, and then assumed a basic defensive stance that would work well with the light jabs and cuts common to Form Two. She balanced her weight from front footpaw to back footpaw and front again, gauging her opponent like one would a cobra. Once Akasha began to make her move then she could strike. Focus, focus, focus.

[Akasha Khan]

"My staff!"

Akasha rounded on Loki to give him a generously sized piece of her mind in return for his rough treatment of a priceless heirloom that was a good deal rarer than the cheap novelty sparklers he passed out in class, but one look at his face told her precisely how far she'd be getting with that line of argument today. Boiling, she accepted her hand-me-down weapon and turned to face her opponent in... Form Two? That little prat knew she was rubbish at Form Two! What was the use of having feline agility if she couldn't use any of it?

The Orryxian switched on her training saber and executed a stiff, robotic parody of the time-honored duelist's salute - time, as in ancient times, which was where this silly duelist's style belonged. Then she advanced on Ndonsa, called up one of the few Makashi velocities she remembered, and--

Cursed as Ndonsa's saber blade stung her paw, making her drop her own weapon. She glared over her shoulder at Loki to see if he was satisfied. He merely stared back, as implacable as a quasar.

Akasha called her saber back into her paw, repeated her salute, and this time froze with her saber held down and behind her. Ndonsa paused, clearly wary of some trap, and then darted in to strike the Orryxian's unprotected middle.

As the Kufu mongoose advanced, Akasha waved the claws of her off-paw and, with the Force, pressed the activation plate on Ndonsa's practice saber. Ndonsa's blade blinked out of existence and swung clean through its target, and Akasha merely sidestepped and nudged Ndonsa off-balance with her shoulder.

Then the Orryxian turned toward Loki and bowed. "The path of least resistance, Master Loki."

[Abarai Loki]

For a moment, Loki stared at the brazen Orryxian. Then, after summoning her staff back into his hand, he tossed it back to her and said:

"The Gossam are serving root stew today. Bring me some back before it gets cold."

[Akasha Khan]

She stared back at him, eyes narrow, matching his challenge with her own. And then, without a word, she clipped her staff to her belt and padded off in the direction of the Gossam settlement.

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa stood uncertainly alone in the sparring circle, then saluted Knight Loki and began to step out of the circle before his voice stopped her in her tracks. "Show me the basic forms of Makashi, Padawan," he barked, and then made the green knobby one, Drax, join her while he corrected their stances and instructed the whole class.

She always felt awkward when in front of the class like that, but pride had no place here among the Jedi. At least, not how she was used to it, anyway. Pride in a job well done, maybe. Humility was learned hard as muscles used to fighting with a long spear were forced to adopt new practices, the sword forms becoming familiar but nowhere near natural. She was glad when the class was over, her head full of Makashi stances and starting to ache. Ndonsa walked along the road, spear in hand, toward the jungle. Behind here there was a sudden uproar, far enough away she didn't feel like she needed to run toward it to see what was going on, but she looked over her shoulder anyway.

Toward where the medical building was under construction a heavy looking machine, a crane she thought it had been called, was tilting madly. The whine of over worked mechanical things hurt her ears, and she quickened her step into the forest to hunt. She needed some quiet.

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa jogged through the forest for half an hour or so, trying to keep up on the level of activity she was used to. Sometimes she could feel her body growing weaker while she sat in classes with Jedi droning on about Uric Qwell Dromo or whoever. Studying in this fashion did not come easily. Not to mention the fact that she could not read the text on the datapads. She hadn't mentioned it to anyone yet, but she would soon need to find someone to tell, as classes were added and she was about to be overwhelmed.

She found a clearing amidst the trees, the center a lumpy mass of brush and overgrowth. She prowled toward it, sensing that it was an unnatural formation, and used her spear to pull away some of the plant life. A metallic structure now covered in moss and lichen was underneath, and she worked to uncover the round shape. There was a hatch of some kind on the top, and some letters. S... E... M...T... no, N, T...K, no R, Y... Ndonsa scraped away moss with a stick. There were a series of numbers. This discovery was not going to put meat in her belly, however, so she climbed down and made a mental note to talk to someone else about this the next day.

She came back to camp as the sun set (they were calling it Sanctuary One. Perhaps another town was planned, to be called Sanctuary Two?) with a brace of rabbit-like creatures slung over her shoulder. Ndonsa dropped them off at the kitchens to be cleaned and thrown into tomorrow's meal plan, hopefully a stew. When she brought them meat, the staff made sure she got some of whatever it was they made with it. Dinner was what other's called "vegetarian" - beans and greens, rice... she stopped examining it and simply ate. Meals were better when you didn't look at your food.

Jamis was sitting toward the back of the mess tent, enraptured by the construction workers sitting at the furthest tables wolfing down their meals. They were a mixed lot, human and other spee-sees. The Cizerack workers always ate in their own compound. Ndonsa knew they had fresh meat there, she often smelled the blood on the air when she walked past the walls. Tonight the workers seemed to be regaling the padawan with stories of whatever accident they'd had earlier in the day. They were a loud bunch, laughter quick to come when the speaker paused, which made Ndonsa sure that the accident had not cost any lives. She concentrated a bit, feeling out the emotions of the workers as she choked down her vegetables. Relief was prominent, as was a sort of could have been worse sense. The loud laughter masked any anxiety they might be feeling from the day's events. In fact, she realized, the most anxious seemed to laugh the loudest and tell the most jokes.

It was curious, but something she'd observed before, amongst the males of her tribe after a difficult hunt where death had seemed near. You laugh and enjoy yourself at the feast - to scare away the demons that your brush with death might have caused to follow you. Not that there were actual demons... were there? Ndonsa was no longer sure. Her eyes tracked over the rim of her glass of juice to where the tall dark Jedi, Solomon, was standing, conversing with another. He professed belief in others, in something more than the Force. Perhaps she would speak with him about it.

After dinner Ndonsa made her way to her bed, working a little on her letter recognition before falling asleep with a datapad on her face.

[Ndonsa]

Morning dawned bright, and the sun warmed her fur as she stretched, smoothing down her fur and pulling on clothes. Ndonsa was adjusting her necklaces and considering who she was going to tell about the thing she'd found in the forest when a bird thumped into her window, startling her. Ndonsa frowned, and walked to the window, peered out at the dazed bird on the ground. It looked the same as the one had yesterday.

Exiting her room with her spear in hand, she walked down the hallway past other doors where she could hear other padawans beginning to stir. Someone's beeping chrono was making noise, and Ndonsa hurried her steps, making her way out into the early morning light. The sun was not over the mountains yet, and as she walked to the mess tent she saw the Orryxian padawan, Akasha, leaving. Ndonsa padded into the mess hall, grabbed a tray and lined up with the other early morning risers for... oatmeal and fruit. She stared at it, not used to getting exactly the same thing two days in a row. She took her utensil and stirred the oatmeal and fruit all together as she walked to a table and sat down alone to eat, staring around her a bit before taking a bite.

[Jamis Kerr]

Bad hair. Bad breakfast. It was just one of those things. A bowl of delightful oatmeal and a portion of fruit that looked just a touch sad. He supposed it had to do with being canned; he remembered the fresh fruit from home, and they'd never looked anything like these sad offerings. But still, food was food, and he needed something to begin his day, at least. So, oatmeal and sad fruit were the order of the morning.Not entirely paying attention, the boy simply made for the closest open seat that offered the least amount of walking he'd have to do to get there.

And that was what made him choose to sit across from the Nehantite.

Immediately spearing a piece of fruit with a plastic spork before holding it up, he looked at his new table-mate from behind a mop of bangs that'd been partially brushed aside.

"I think they're trying to kill us," came his final verdict at the state of the... what fruit was this, even?!

[Ndonsa]

Ndonsa shoved another spoonful into her mouth, and frowned at the boy. Perhaps he really did think that his life was in danger. She swallowed hard, the porridge lump hurting her throat as it went down. "You will not die, it is fine. Just like yesterday."

[Jamis Kerr]

He gave her a funny look at that one, unsure of what he should say, but opted for the rather obvious.

"Yesterday we had cereal and nuna eggs."

Another few moments of staring, and Jamis sent his eyes downward to the food before him before giving a sigh and taking a nibble of the fruit. It wasn't bad,but it certainly wasn't good. A bite of the oatmeal proved better, and unfolding his napkin, the boy set about removing the offending bits of fruit from his main course and setting them on the napkin. Finished, he looked to his breakfast partner while sliding the pile towards her.

"I don't think I'ma chance it," came his wry answer, a smile none-the-less on his face.

"You can have 'em."

[Ndonsa]

"Yesterday we had -" Ndonsa paused, and watched him push his fruit across the table to her. She got up abruptly and walked away, leaving a confused Jamis behind. She stopped at the end of a table and slapped her paws down a little harder than she'd intended, interrupting the little Wookiee and the fish girl.

"What did we eat for breakfast. Yesterday." The girl gaped at her, and Ndonsa turned to the long haired child. "Well?"

[Hwooroc]

Startled out of his conversation, Hwooroc turned to face the weird tribal lady. Her name was Ndonsa, or at least something like that, since he'd heard other humanoids more or less choke over the unconventionally-placed consonants. She had a wild and exotic look, with her lithe frame and clinky necklaces made out of trinkets and bones and things. They said she chanted and danced when using the force, like a wild lady. Akasha told him a scary story that she had a trunk full of shrunken Sullustan heads and zombie powder. That was...probably not true...but here she was, and she looked...a little crazy.

Hwooroc gawped, his snaggletoothed and oatmeal-smeared mouth gaping a little. The spoon of breakfast he held in a paw missed his mouth entirely and fell in his lap.

[Ndonsa]

The pair of Jedi in training stared at her, and then each other, the small one dropping his food in his lap like an infant. "Uh, nuna eggs an-" started Kala, and Ndonsa gave an exasperated grunt and threw up her hands, turning away from their table and stalking out of the tent. Someone was playing a trick, or something, on her, and she did not like it. Then she realized she hadn't finished her breakfast, and decided it wasn't worth going back in for. Serena Laran was herding a group of younglings toward the mess tent as she stalked past them, and Ndonsa frowned even deeper. Master Laran was not usually in charge of Rancor Clan, though she had been known to take over for a day every few weeks to give the usual minder the day off. Two days in a row - perhaps the other woman was sick.

Ndonsa covered her nose and mouth with a paw as she passed the children, arriving for meditation class well ahead of everyone else.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

Preparations for the morning meditation class were nearly complete, and Anbira at last took care to light a series of aromatic candles at the center of the circle. He carefully lowered himself to the ground to sit cross-legged, and was preparing to make his own mind right when he felt a presence like a reek plowing through an antique shop on Theed.

"Ndonsa?"

The tent flap belted open a half-second after he asked, confirming his feelings. The Nehantite's eyes darted left and right, and one of her paws clamped fast over her muzzle as if she was trying to wade through poison gas. She was early, and while that wasn't necessarily unusual, everything else about her most certainly was.

"Do the candles not agree with you?"

[Ndonsa]

She removed her paw from her face immediately and sketched a bow. "No, sorry, Master Hicchoru. I had only thought that...perhaps there was..." She knew how ridiculous she was going to sound, so she just let her words trail off as she took a deep breath to center herself.

"I do wish to say sorry for being late yesterday. I must have lost track of time. It will not happen again." She walked to her usual spot in the circle and sat, her tail curled around her hip and laying against her thigh.

[Anbira Hicchoru]

"Late?"

An unusual comment. Anbira brushed an errant lock of hair back and stood up.

"If this is a joke, I'm slow to the punchline. I have my fair share of tardy padawans, but I've never counted you as one of them. You're more than dependable."

There was something more to this. Anbira could feel no jest in the Kufu's demeanor or feelings.