Star Wars: Scars

Part 3 - 8

Creed woke the next morning to the buzzing of his comm alarm. He cracked his eyes and raised his head, slowly sitting up and pushing back the thin covers. Locking his fingers together he stretched his arms in front of him and winced slightly as he felt the tug on sore muscles. It had been a while since he'd fought anyone with real skill, and he smiled slightly to find himself sore. Even sparring with Zayne didn't push him that hard. He'd missed it.

Stretching out his arms and back to aid in the healing of his muscles, he got up and found the drawer of clothing the guide had shown him the night before. She'd said it would be far more comfortable than his armor, and he hoped she was right.

Pulling on the loose tunic and long pants, he buckled the leather belt around his waist. It felt different than his fatigues. Looser and freer almost. There was less formality to it and rather than the blue and red he was used to it was a light brown, giving it a less military look. He shifted around a moment, getting used to the movement before he sat down and pulled on his boots. He glanced over and considered throwing his bodysuit on underneath it, but decided against it. He needed to keep his bodysuit intact for the mission, so it would be best to stick with whatever they provided.

Standing up, he threw his bodysuit and other spare belongings into an empty drawer before noticing the glint of metal atop the dresser. He paused, now seeing the knife he'd taken off Skar'ii in their fight. He wondered how he'd missed it before and picked it up, balancing it in his hand. It had an impressive balance and a comfortable fit in his hand. The size, shape, and feel reminded him of the knife's he'd bought all those years ago from the seller who'd insisted he take them.

I wonder if he'd ever been to Dathomir, Creed mused before slipping the knife into his belt and turning to the door. He walked outside and immediately found Skar'ii standing there, waiting. She had the posture of a soldier, though she looked more like some nomadic witch in her red garb and long cloak.

"Have you eaten?" she asked, amber eyes looking up from under her hood.

"No," Creed said, not remembering seeing any food inside. He was still a bit caught up in the rush of everything. He was in a new place with no regulations, no one watching him, and it was comforting, yet he still needed time to adjust.

"Come with me, you will need a meal before you begin training," she said, making a wide gesture with her hand as she turned and led the way.

They approached a long building with ornate structuring, but it looked like nothing compared to the temple Creed had seen the day before. He could see people milling about it, all of them women, with several children eating or playing around the exterior. As they came inside, Creed noted that it was something of a hybrid between a community place and a school. He could see groups of children listening intently to what looked like teachers, but it was hard to discern. The culture here was so different from any that he'd ever experienced or seen, so he simply followed Skar'ii.

As they walked towards a line of women getting food, Creed noticed that several of the young girls were staring at him as if they'd never seen a man before in their lives. A few were gawking in varied states of curiosity but he just kept walking.

They made it to the line and after a few minutes Creed was given a bowl of food and went to sit at a table with his guide. The food smelled slightly sour but Skar'ii told him it didn't taste as sour as it smelled. She explained it was a meat dish with some strange name that Creed wasn't sure he could pronounce, but he definitely enjoyed it, whatever it was.

As they sat there eating, Creed glanced around, watching the women and girls milling about. There were far more here than he'd assumed lived in the village based on it's deserted state the day before.