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Joren and Breia sat in the living quarters watching over the injured stranger that they had brought into their sanctuary. Since Joren had rescued the man from the dangers of the desert, the stranger had said few words. Instead, he had been drifting in and out of consciousness. However, in the brief moments that he had been coherent, the stranger had revealed that he was called Drast'une, and that he had been attacked by a group of Tusken Raiders, and had miraculously escaped with his life. There was something unsettling about the man, but Joren couldn't quite put his finger on exactly what it was. However, it had been enough for him to keep his blaster within arm's reach. It had also been enough for him to take other measures to protect his friends. He had gone into the room that Breia had provided for him and Kelsa, and grabbed the satchel which held a few of his belongings, most notably his father's lightsaber. He didn't know why he felt compelled to take the relic, but he had taken it and hidden it in the inner pocket of the  light jacket that he had been wearing.

Throughout the night, Joren and Dono had taken turns watching over the man, treating and dressing his wounds, all the while, keeping a close eye on him, because as they had learned, one could never be too careful when dealing with the unknown. 

“So tell me.-” Joren finally said breaking the silence. “What made you change your mind?” 

“What do you mean?” Breia asked.

“You weren't going to open the door. You agreed with the others, you...you thought it was too dangerous, but then you opened the door anyhow.” Joren said.

“I don't know.” Breia started. “You were right, I knew that. We couldn't just leave him out there to die. You're right though, I also agreed with the others. It was too dangerous, I wanted to keep the door locked, but then I saw that you were willing to go out there and risk your life for a complete stranger and you...just reminded me of my brother.”

“Your brother?” Joren asked.

“Nevil. He was a good man, always willing to lend a hand when it was needed. Sometimes I think he had more bravery than smarts. It's also what got him killed.” Breia told him, her voice cracking slightly as tears began forming at the corners of her eyes. “But I don't want to talk about that, not now at least.” Breia said as she wiped the tears from her eyes.

“I understand. And I'm sorry.” Joren said. “But if you change your mind, I'm here.”

“I appreciate that.” Breia said.

Joren was about to say something, but was interrupted by the sounds of Drat'une's coughing. The stranger had again regained consciousness and was attempting to sit up. Joren went over to the man and offered him a mug o water. The man brushed his long black hair out of his face as he began to drink greedily from the mug, gulping the water down. 

“I...I wanted to thank you.” Drast'une said as he put the mug down on the table in front of the sofa.

“It was nothing. Anyone would have doe the same thing.” Joren said.

“I think we both know...that is not the case.” Drast'une said with a smirk. 

Suddenly, Joren felt something from the stranger. Where that before had been nothing, he now felt cold. He felt a darkness that he had never before experienced. As these feelings washed over him, Joren began to feel a sense of dread.

“To the contrary, it was indeed very much [i][b]something[/b][/i]. You are not like the others, you are selfless, you have something inside of you that makes you special. You have something that so very few beings have in in the galaxy these days. And that is how I found you. It is how I lured you here from Nar Shaddaa.”

Dread washed over Joren. He thought back to the time on the Dreams after they had escaped Nar Shaddaa. The feeling that he had, the voice that had called out to him, beckoned for him to come to Tatooine. He also was reminded of the sense of unease that he'd felt since landing on the desert planet, the feeling that someone had been watching him.

“Breia, get out of here.” Joren said.

“What?” She asked, unsure as to what was going on.

“Get to the others and get out of here.” Joren said again. This time Breia did as she was told and made her way out of the living chambers.

“Ah yes, but don't run too far. This won't take long.” Drast'une called after her.

Joren pulled out his blaster, but before he could squeeze the trigger, it was ripped from his hands by an unseen force and flung across the room. Then, before he knew it, Joren was gripped by invisible hands and lifted into the air, before being thrown over the back of the chair that he had previously been sitting in. Then Drast'une sprang on him, straddling him, pinning his arms to the ground.

“Perhaps I was wrong about you. Perhaps you aren't so special after all. The Force may be with you, but you don't know how to use it.-” Drast'une taunted him. “-Pity.” Joren struggled to get free of the larger man's grip, but it was no use. Drast'une was simply too strong.

“I did not want it to come to this. I wanted you to join me. But I see now that you are too weak. You do not have what it takes to embark on the journey that I would take you on.” he said as a pair of tendrils made their way out of his cheeks, inching toward him.

“For too long, I have been forced to feed on vermin, it has been far too long since I have enjoyed the soup of one of your kind.-” He said as the tendrils moved ever closer to Joren's nostrils. “I want you to know that I am truly going to enjoy you, Joren Kel.”

 Joren could feel something pushing at his psyche, telling him to just give in and accept the inevitable. But he fought the urge and refused to allow the Anzat to make a meal of him.Joren reached deep within himself and called on the Force, using it to push Drast'une back. Though he wasn't able to get the creature off of him, he was able to free his hand. He reached into the hidden pocket of his jacket.

“Too little, too--” Drast'une's words were cut off as the [i]snap-hiss[/i] of a lightsaber filled the room, and a bright blue-white blade protruded from Drast'une's back. The Anzat slumped forward, and Joren was able to push the larger being off of him. He deactivated the lightsaber and was in the process of slipping it back into his jacket when he was suddenly aware that he was no longer alone.

“Vod'ika, you? You're a Jetii?” Dono said, more of a statement of disbelief than a question.

“No.-” Joren began, his words coming between gasps of breath. “I'm no Jedi.”

“I've seen you. I saw you use the Force. And you have the weapon of a Jedi.”

Joren paused for a moment. He knew that the Mandalorians had a bit of a complicated history with the Jedi, and he didn't know if that history would put a strain on their friendship. Many Mandalorians still held grudges against the Jedi, and the Mandalorians as a people tended to have long memories.

“I'm not a Jedi. But my father was.-” Joren said as he held out his lightsaber for Dono, and everyone else to see. “-And this is all I have left of him.