The word of rebellion on Alurion seemed to get around pretty well. Likely as not, it was on the tips of the tongue of people at the local bars and hooch shops. There were other words though, things that certain tipsy younger men didn't consider. Things such as the Lightbringer, as he'd come to be called, and tipsy young men such as Danny Mehoven, son of one of Dantooine's numerous farmers and who, this night, was rather full of drink and quite willing to run of his mouth. The spectacle of the hung nerfs was still fresh in his mind when he raised his glass and voice.

"What'cha all think of dis here Lightbringin' fella I hear tell 'bout? Some's ta say he's the savior or somethin' of the galaxy. Some others, well, they's been callin' him a baddie!"

Things got mighty quiet when Danny Mehoven mentioned the "Lightbringer," as he was now known. Everyone in the room—many of them rebels—buried themselves in their mugs and looked surreptitiously to Amos Moses, awaiting his opinion. Moses swiveled around on his bar stool, his elbows coming to rest on the bar behind him. "Tell you this much, son," he said, "I don't fault a man for hidin' from his enemies if need be, but a man don't hide from his friends. And you don't fight with someone you don't know just as sure as you don't kick a nerf pod on a hot day. 'specially not one callin' himself 'Shadowlord' or 'Lightbringer.' Man calls me one of them names and I'll crack his yaller, send his nerfs a grievin'. Hell, worst a man can call me is dumb as dirt, and I reckon it's half true. But 'bringin' light to the galaxy'? Don't make me no nevermind no how," he explained. "Enough hat, let's see some nerf."

"This here man, they say he hides his face, see, 'cause him's a simple man trying to keep safe from the 'mpire. Some says that all his close folks, they were his hood outta pride and willin' to keep 'em safe. I think that title he gots is about pushin' back the darkness or somesuch. Heard a spacer talkin' about it 'fore he left. Had me a mighty good jaw with that'un. I say we get ahold of him! This Lightbringer fella, not the spacer, mind. If he's a-willin' to show us his face, well, my pa says he'll fight for him!"

He took a shot of whiskey and shrugged. "I ain't sayin' this here 'Lightbringer' is a bad man," he said, wiping his mouth with his sleeve, "He's too big for his britches, I reckon, but could be he's decent as you and me. All I'm sayin' is you fight with a man you know, and a man you know's fightin' for the same thing you is. Elsewise, well, I got some feed to sell ya." He glanced around the room, looking to change the subject. "But 'nough about that. I got a boot if any of y'all got a banjo. I came here for some drinkin' and dancin' and so far I got a lot o' one and none the other." There was a murmur of agreement and sure enough, music went up from somewhere in the room. The Higgens sisters would be along soon, as they usually was, and they'd bring some of their friends. It was sure to be a good time, notwithstanding a few fights now and then between men who'd taken Eel's oath of allegiance and those who hadn't (those who had were easily distinguishable by the smell of Old Man Le Mieux's bone-suckin' marinade on their breath).