Quantros breathed, trying to find a way to best approach Lyla. He knew their relation was rocky, and he didn't exactly know how to respond to the situation he was in. And how would he? Name someone else who spent generations in slumber. Chances are, they were monsters. 'Might as well test the waters,' thought Quantros. As the skimmer drove to the rock formation, he began speaking. "I know I've been a bit of a Bantha's ass. I assure you, I'm not normally like this. I've just been irritated at my situation, and I've been wrongfully taking it out on those around me. It's been...difficult to adjust." It was slight, but his breathing became a bit more intense as he remembered the circumstances that brought him here.


Perched in the back of the raft, Lyla was quiet for a while – too long, she thought – chewing on Quantros's words. She had to wonder if he was sincere or just saying what she wanted to hear. Twi'leks could make insincerity into an artform, but it had never sat well with Lyla; she usually took people at their word, and she decided to take Quantros at his. More, she hadn't had a lot of experience at counselling like this. Goddess knew she had enough issues of her own. What should she say to someone who'd been frozen for aeons? 'Well, I'm glad you said it...' she stalled, fishing for something to say like fishing in the sea all around them.

'Look, I don't know what to say. Tera's probably got a degree in this sort of thing... I'm sorry, what happened to you was poodoo. But it seems to me you could've done with some time off in Neskroff, getting used to things, not getting back in the game.' she suggested, but that seemed no good now. 'I, I think I know a little of what it's like. Locked in a freezer for far too long, losing everyone, being out of touch, missing out on everything. The grief, resentment, and frustration... I just had a lot of time to walk it off. Before we're ready to rejoin civilisation, the first thing we need to be is alone.'


Well, that was promising. He hadn't expected her to be so understanding so quickly. "I agree with you, there. Unfortunately, Command sees fit to rush mentally and emotionally unstable people into combat zones. But to be fair to them, at least that's consistent after five thousand years." He gave a chuckle at his own joke, before sighing.


'Hey, we're Rebels. If we were stable and baggage-free we'd still be in the Empire.' Lyla joked, glad to share some basic humour with Quantros. It was certainly a start.


"I want you to understand, also. My motives for going out to fight alone was nothing more than a reality check. You probably won't believe me, but there was once a time where I could've taken that entire squad on singlehandedly, wiped them out with but a wave of my hand. I didn't realize how far I had fallen in terms of power. Please understand, I needed to do this. I needed to gauge myself, to see how pitiful I've become. I'm...not used to relying on others. If anything, when I was at my peak, others would actually rely on me." His breathing was now a bit heavier, and his eyes were becoming red.


She eyed Quantros wonderingly, if it was true what he said about his capabilities or if it just big-noting. Were things really that different back then? 'You almost got yourself killed, and Bron too. That's an expensive lesson.' she reminded him.


Quantros growled at the reminder, kicking himself. "I know he could've gotten killed. Believe me, he's the only one I can actually trust to be honest with me at a time like this. But, he was foolish to not say anything about his lack of training. Had I known that he didn't know how to properly use the Force, I would've left him behind, and faced the squad on my own." His voice sounded upset, more with himself than at Bron. "I realize that's no excuse for it, but it is the way it's supposed to be. If I am to die, I'd rather die defending those who cannot defend themselves. All Jedi are taught to do so, so I'm certain Bron feels the same way." He sighs, as if sensing a question, or perhaps a lecture.

Quantros preempts any such thing, speaking before Lyla. "First and foremost, the Jedi are guardians. Jedi use the Force and their abilities to protect others from harm. If part of a squad, Jedi will guard their squadmates by using their lightsabers to deflect incoming fire, or by using the Force to create cover for their squad to move up. But if a Sith is encountered, Jedi prefer to go into battle without the aid of their companions. Jedi realize that Sith are merciless, cruel, and will not hesitate to use their companions as a means to control them. It's why those in the Jedi order are forbidden from forming emotional attachments. Yet despite this, Jedi are obligated to sacrifice everything, including their lives if necessary, in order for others to survive."


Listening, Lyla had a blank look, not uncomprehending, just not really caring. She could say the same things about her role in the Alliance irregulars. Recent arguments just hadn't made her particularly interested in the Jedi faith, except where Tera might speak of it, and she was in no mood for a history lesson. 'Except there wasn't one of these Sith, was there?' she pointed out. 'Just the stormtrooper mooks and this Sedran. You think he's this Force user? The one you came to fight is the one you rescued. What does that say for trusting your feelings?' she probed, trying to get to the heart of the issues affecting the team.

'Look, we all work off instinct, gut reactions, feelings, beliefs, in one way or another. We use them when evidence comes up short. I could tell you "I have a bad feeling about this" or the Goddess's wind guides me or that I have an itch in my left tail. Would you accept that as evidence? Do you think your feelings trump ours? Or does the Force influence us too, in different ways?' she pressed, pausing to let him ponder that. 'We came to the same decisions in the end. Our faiths are different, but they don't have to contradict.' she suggested, then smirked playfully 'And you don't have to be a patronising bantha-arse about it either.'


Sighing, Quantros swallowed his pride, in a literal sense. He delivered his next statements in an even tone. "Even I make mistakes, and I'm willing to admit it when I do. But only on my terms." Quantros allowed himself a smirk to shoot back at Lyla. "And I'd love to tell you about the intricacies of the Force, the people of the galaxy, and how all are intertwined and affected by it, but I seem to have drained my ego when I was bested by a few conscripts with blasters. True, I don't have to patronize you, but it's just more fun that way." He then held up a finger, as if making a point. "But I do wish to clarify what exactly I believe.

"I see every sentient as a starship. Every Force Sensitive is a starship with an unstable power core. It cannot be repaired, it cannot be replaced, and it will remain with the ship throughout its entire service growing more and more powerful, attracting other ships with similar power cores. It is up to the engineer to maintain the core. When the engineer does a good job, the starship can easily outperform others without the use of additional weaponry or gadgets, and will become legends in their times. But when the engineer bangs on the power core like a terrified Gamorrean taking a mallet to a Womp Rat, the entire ship goes to hell, and the crew becomes twisted, as the power turns them to piracy. It is the job of the ships with the good engineers to teach the ships with the poor engineers, offering their experience with the power cores so the newer ships don't fall and become a shell of their former selves. To avoid that fate is difficult to do on your own. Even I had help." Quantros pauses to let his words reach Lyla, before holding up his lightsaber.

Suddenly, and uncharacteristically, Quantros began waving his lightsaber up and down frantically, as if he was desperately trying o use it to smack something on the ground. The entire time, he mimicked the high pitched squeal of a terrified Gamorrean, as best as his vocal range would allow. He had felt that his concerns were getting too serious for comfort, and hoped that his antics would break the tension that he felt was building with his description. Maybe Lyla would find it humorous.


As Quantros whipped out his laser-sword and began his antics, Lyla scooted away across the raft, as far as possible without tipping herself into the sea, which remained on the table. Concern turned to bewilderment as she realised his bad joke, but then she was back to suspecting he was a crazy person. With a tired smile, she looked down at the deck, shaking her head in despair. 'You Jedi... Bron saw the Jedi destroy themselves, tear the whole Galaxy up, and misses his old mentor. Of course he looks up to some old master from the distant past. He trusted you to handle that fight. You have a responsibility... And Tera, she's interested in the Force and Jedi and this stuff, but if you keep pushing her, you'll only push her away... Watch your own power core first. If you've got something to show and teach, then show and teach. Pull, don't push.' she advised, then added a warning 'Or else I'll push you into the sea.'


Quantros blinked, before he put his lightsaber back. Something Lyla said seemed to make him consider something, but he shook his head and returned to reality. "Duly noted." His hands returned to the raft's controls. "Now then, let's go see our native friend, shall we?"