Private A Swinging Pendulum

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

​

The city still bordered disrepair after how many years..Lyra couldn’t help but wonder why, the year and exact war were lost on her but she had expected something with more grandeur for the Sith home world. The destruction that marred Korriban City had left it’s echoes, hanging over one’s head like a wound. It’s own people had been shaped by it..The city itself was old, and the land several times over. She had scoffed at the dreariness. Restoration projects seemed to cycle in and out and she had passed through district zones still closed. It all boiled down to credits surely or politics for that matter and that was her careless two cents on the matter. Lyra wasn’t a student of history. She wasn’t invested in the place itself, though the striking pale cut stone and durasteel surrounding her were pleasant to the eye. Some public works to decorate it and the style meant to honor heritage. It was all pretty, she supposed and meant to entertain a tourist at the very least.

Though the local delicacies had left much to be desired, even though she had watched many of a crowd flock into the shanty cantinas. One enthusiastic vendor had tried to sell her on a fried insect. That had been questionable even when compared to military rations and the sight had left even her stomach churning; the smell more so. The absence of a mid day meal would not kill her at the very least. She could almost blend in with the swath of tourists and researchers, having crawled the main streets and visited an oddity shop or two just that morning. The odd looks on the street she had caught once or twice, lingered over shrapnel wounds she no longer blanched over..Leave it civilians of course, that had left a twinge of bitterness in her mouth. She had even forgotten her military fatigues and officer’s coat in favor of simpler reds; outdated fashion as it was. All superfluous concerns, this was a place to do business and certainly not a place to fall into a money pit let alone relax. Something beyond her control weighed over her and it among other concerns rested at the forefront of her mind.

She was eager to blame the Force, the higher power, it was the damned thing that had led her to this place. Lyra had not shaken the feeling since she had arrived on the planet side two days earlier. She could feel it here with a great intensity. It had driven her to cloistering herself away under a heavy sweeping coat; if only to attempt shield herself. Secretly longing for body armor, even the temperatures were cool and wholly different from the Epitaph. Having considered the ship home now. The meeting she had requested an age ago had finally been answered and she had peeled away from the markets to prepare for her Contact. She had referenced her time piece for a third time within the same minute when she had arrived at the..square.

The Colonel found the small plaza itself seemed rather well kept in comparison to some districts. She had arrived early, and between the paranoia and populace; she was still questioning her choice of venue. Her Contact would still be minutes away, or better put, half a standard hour away from being due. Her data pad offered no new message, but perhaps she would receive some curt apology and beg of absence. Then she could turn around and run back to the fleet, excuses that she had tried..it was almost pathetic and she stewed on it.

Lyra was overly punctual and she forced herself to sit among the statues, the bench a cold uncomfortable slab. The space was open and one could venture to call it a ‘park’ but even then it was too small and there was no greenery. Yet it allowed her a vantage which to view the fringes of the day to day life. The long streets and towering buildings did not unsettle her, but she guessed it had to simply be a foreign, overtly populated setting. The noise was startling, she hadn’t spent time in a cityscape for a long time. Lyra did not get nervous but it was a relief to be away from hustle..she admonished herself when she caught herself wringing her hands.

So many walks of life and the roaming dark side users too. Lyra had steered clear of those people and had hastened her attempts to mute her presence the moment she had set foot off the transport fifty six hours ago; having spent most the time hiding at her lodgings. After ten years minimum in the war machine it was like looking through a spyglass into another world. Daily life was obscure and disorderly to her. The leave of absence had been extremely uncharacteristic for the Colonel and she couldn’t even justify it as vacation for the record; it would have been an outright lie.

Personal business, a simple fact she had guarded haughtily to anyone looking to pry. The personal inquiries she had sent out over the last several months had been met with radio silence. Finding someone who wasn’t a direct superior, someone who would provide less complications finally was interested enough to answer some questions. Compensation may have helped the matter, given she hadn’t revealed much in any correspondence. Avernus was still a wild card though, and she had little on his background or exploits to follow.

The meeting was informal but she still felt wholly unprepared for it. Lyra tried to never lie to herself, she had reached the boiling point with what she could do with the force and there were risks of not exercising some discipline. Staring at her hands, a soft leather encased her hands, how much of her life now had been haunted by it? Lyra had followed the trail of public holonet information related to the Force and chased any scrap military clearance had permitted without raising suspicion; and even then a decade worth of notes left her with little control.

Squinting up to the golden skies, the woman heaved a heavy sigh; sitting rigidly in wait. Lyra had not wanted to interrupt her military career for this, but she was on borrowed time.

​

 

[Avernus]

Avernus suddenly awoke to the turbulence of his ship entering Korriban's atmosphere. He shook his head briskly and adjusted the brim of his hat that had tilted over his face as he slept. He was perhaps still a little hungover, even after the constant napping and micro-doses day-drinking he had been doing to try to alleviate the aftermath of the previous night. Glitterstim and Cognac were one hell of a combination and he normally wasn't one to go overboard, but in the right company, one can tend to get carried away. He rubbed his hand over his eyes to halt the pounding pain he felt from behind them even if only for a moment.

"My lord, we have arrived at Korriban. Searching for a landing zone now."

The droid's buzzing, metallic voice laid a sharp assault on Avernus' hungover eardrums, which made him groan. He left his seat and hobbled around the moving starship, making his way to the minibar and pouring himself some Phattro. He dropped the ice cubs in carefully, trying to avoid another audible assault, this time at the hands of ice clinking against the glass.

"Land in Korriban City Square."

The order didn't sound very commanding, and it was only just loud enough to reach the droids receptors. His voice was dry and sluggish, something he planned to hide in the imminent meeting. The droid hesitated for a moment, as if unsure if its master had really just asked it to land in an unapproved landing zone. It took a moment to compute before the droid responded.

"Yes, my lord."

The yacht glided through the golden skies of Korriban and began its descent over the square. The landing gear extended and the vessel touched down on a flat space not even twenty meters from where Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt sat. The boarding ramp began to fizz open before her.

"4T-L6!" Avernus regarded one of his pilot droids whilst still on the ship.

The pilot droid shot up from its seat and quickly came before Avernus at the mini bar, standing with attention.

"Yes, my lord?"

"Hold this."

Avernus handed the droid his glass of Phattro.

"Follow me." He ordered as he began to make his way down the ramp.

Coming into Lyra's view was a tall Sith Pureblood. He wore a ridiculously sized Bantha-fur coat, platform shoes, a wide-brimmed homburg hat with an absurdly sized purple plume, a mechanical belt-buckle that spun around with ostentatious brilliance, and finally a pair of round-lensed sunglasses. Following behind him was an L-1g general-purpose droid with a glass of orange liquid in its right hand.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

What kind of fool lands a yacht in the middle of a plaza..the pretentious..Lyra had risen to her feet like hell was on her heels, the ship whipped up the wind around and the noise deafening; it wasn’t like her hearing wasn’t already shot from the Armored Division. The landing wasn’t enough to shrink back in the face of, no she was rather concerned with the sudden amount of curious looks it drew. He could easily attract a riot. Part of her hinged a bet, even begged that this was not her Contact. When the drop doors opened to reveal Sith Pureblood though she was torn between fury and utter disbelief.

It had been too good to be true she surmised and in the face of the..batha coat and..dear sweet emperor Lyra’s jaw locked; grinding her teeth. Was he some sort of celebrity, and the droid-what was it doing? How long would it be before local authorities intercepted the illegal landing..? Exhaling harshly through her nose, these concerns did not register and she masked every inch; taming the sneer that threaten to rear. Her lips pinned down in a pointed frown. Lyra did not advance toward nor retreat from Avernus. Her hands folded behind her back neatly in wait as if awaiting a commanding officer but she stared at the Sith in the eye.

“Lord Avernus, I presume,” Lyra spoke, offering no other deference as he approached..

 

[Avernus]

Avernus waved his hand in the air above his head. With that signal, the boarding ramp closed and the yacht began to take off away from the plaza. He held onto his hat as he approached to keep it from blowing off. His platform shoes clomped loudly against the Sith stonework of the plaza walkway with every step. He stopped a no less than a meter and a half away from Lyra, maintaining his silence up to this point in regards to her initial inquiry. He took the glass from the droid and took a drink of the Phattro, exhaling loudly as the beverage was swallowed. He handed the glass back to the droid and ordered it to stand back with a dismissive shooing motion.

"Yes, it is I." He responded with indifferent dramaticism. "That must mean you are Colonel Voi'kryt. I apologize for the brash entrance, but I would have been horribly late if I had adhered to regular landing protocol."

He squinted behind his ridiculous spectacles, eyes hidden by the lens tint. He initially thought he was just here to answer the questions of a curious imperial, be it for research or personal curiosity. As he finally stood before Lyra, he could feel that it was much more. The unease and vexation he could pick up from her were awash with the force. A small smirk crawled across his face once he understood what this was really about.

"So, you had some questions for me, Colonel?" His tone was indicative of the fact that he had caught on.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

The Colonel could almost appreciate his punctuality, but she had not consulted her timepiece to check and the sheer opulence outweighed the sentiment. Her eyes narrowing, briefly tracking his ship as it took off. The crinkle of her eye pulled oddly at the discolored scars closest to her left. The wind catching at the hem of her coat whipping around at her knees, she should have worn a string of strobe lights to keep up with the man; under dressed in comparison. Lyra acknowledged his address with a slight tilt of her head, her boots glued to the stone unmoving, standing at least half a head shorter than the Sith. She wasn’t unnerved by the lens in the least staring past them with a certain disdain, she could chalk him up by material standards but then she’d be the bigger fool.

Her lips parted briefly to acknowledge the matter but any words she had died in her throat. Lyra wasn’t daft and this had always been her longest reigning fear; Sith bloody Sith just knew things. Her jaw snapped shut and she mulled his statement briefly, she could still walk away, there was still that illusion of choice. Raising a hand, her movements bordered mechanical as she gestured toward the city streets where the crowds picked up. Between the shops and stalls all the cowards, try as some might it was difficult to miss their stares.

“Then perhaps we can relocate to somewhere more private for the discussion?” Lyra wasn’t resigning herself to anything yet, but coy did not exist in the same sentence as herself. “Any recommendations my Lord?”

 

[Avernus]

Avernus raised an eyebrow at her request. From behind the tinted lenses, his eyes scanned the rest of the square. The request began to make sense once he noticed all of the strange looks and bystanders still staring from the ship landing. He exhaled sharply through his nose and adjusted his coat. He reached back to the droid and took the glass once more, finishing off the beverage within.

"Very well."

He threw the glass over his shoulder carelessly and began to stride past Lyra. The droid began to quickly follow behind him.

"Come. I know a place or two."

The sound of the glass shattering upon the stone walkway followed shortly after his words.

"4T-L6, go figure out where 4T-L5 landed the ship and send me the coordinates for when I'm done here."

The droid ceased following and snapped to attention.

"Yes, my lord!"

His shoes clomped loudly against the stone as he confidently strode out of the square and into the streets. He never glanced behind himself to confirm that Lyra was following him. He was certain that someone who came all this way wouldn't squander this opportunity unless they were some kind of fool.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Lyra had the slightest of feelings she was going to regret handing the reins over to the Sith. There were places best avoided but the Sith screamed trouble, already preparing for the worse. When the glass shattered across the stone, a notable exhale escaped her and her expression fell flat. Her boots offered no audible click and it was almost easy to overlook her where Avernus strutted. She fell behind him like a duitifull shadow, if only for the conditioning in the Legion itself had instilled.

“I expect any issue that could arise with local authorities will be handled by yourself, I did request discretion in relation to this meeting, my Lord” the Colonel spoke low, she imagined she’d be sore for credits after the matter. Tavlar would not appreciate having to send a detachment to dig her out of knee deep shavit. She made her insults mute to even herself in fear the Sith might pick up the fringes of them. Focusing her energy in making detail of the rooftops surrounding them needlessly, the people who made clear of their path.

 

[Avernus]

"Yes yes, discretion," Avernus responded dismissively.

"Don't worry yourself with the authorities, I gave my pilot droids orders to correct the unlawful entry. Consider it a non-issue."

---

After some walking, Avernus lead her into a higher class district of the rebuilt city. High-end shops and establishments lined the cold, crowded streets. The demographics here were less mixed than before, consisting of almost exclusively purebloods and humans. They eventually came upon an establishment that stood out among the other mostly homogeneous enterprises. Loud music resonated from the front entrance, drawing even more attention to it. Neon High-Sith runes flickered above the entrance, illuminating the much smaller sign below it that read "The Prize Lounge" in Galactic Basic. There was a line of would-be patrons in, corraled inside of velvet ropes held up by golden pillars.

Avernus walked alongside the velvet rope, almost as if he had no interest in the establishment. At the last minute, he took a turn towards the entrance and stopped in front of the Massassi bouncer at the door. He reached into the pocket of his pants beneath his thick layer of bantha-fur from his coat and pulled out a small token-like object. The bouncer nodded after a moment of inspection and gestured for Avernus to continue inside.

The inside of the club was polluted with loud music and flashing lights. He lead her past the bar and through a thick sea of dancing patrons. They walked between two slave-dancer tables and up a small number of stairs into a side area with large round booth tables that were housed in alcoves in the wall. He scooted his way into a seat and almost instantly ordered a drink from a datapad that was built into the table, specially tailored for orders. He looked a Lyra from across the table, not exchanging any words yet. He was amused that he had so easily caught on to the purpose of this meeting, but he was curious as to how she would attempt to address the issue. He would remain silent and allow her to speak first.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

A healthy amount of disgust rolled off her as they entered the upper district, it wasn’t the worst she could imagine them retreating to but the crowds were another thing. The Colonel had never visited these kinds of districts during her service and her eyes roamed over the shops with a keen eye. When the crowds grew denser, Lyra felt the onset of a headache in the face of the noise. Approaching the club, she considered the sign, she was rusty at best in the High-Sith runes. It was a growing requirement in the upper echelons but she had only loosely studied the language. She did not catch exactly what Avernus had produced for the bouncer but she made a point not to stare at the towering Massassi.

The bass of the music practically had the foundation shaking and Lyra grimaced plainly when they entered; even after spending a decade in the armored battery division. The club was a blur to her and she was silently relieved to slide in to the booth, her body pointed toward the door out of habit. Lyra spared him a glance as he accessed the data pad; folding her hands in her lap. There was relative privacy, and inebriation made for poor ease dropping.

“Quite the setting, but I can see the benefits,” the Colonel bit out as silence lapsed between them. She eye'd him briefly before settling back, stiff shouldered. “My first question, what are the side effects to a force user if say..their ability was removed or rather cut off?”

 

[Avernus]

Removed? Cut off?​

Why would anyone be so willing to cut themselves off from the force? The notion of removing oneself from the force, though it had been done before, was one Avernus found disgusting. He fought with the muscles in his face, preventing them from contorting into an uninviting sneer. His upper lip twitched and writhed as he tried to keep his composure. There was an almost uncomfortably long silence as Avernus stared at Lyra from across the table.

"One Arkanian sweet milk." The voice of a Twi'lek server, likely a slave, interjected. "And Tepasi Taffy."

She had sat the drink and the small bowl of blue, twisted sweets in the center of the table before continuing onto the next customers, strutting off with a tray held above her head. Avernus took his spectacles off, slowly folding them with one hand and setting them aside. The drink began to slide across the table towards Avernus who brought his hand up from underneath the table just in time to grab it before it flew off the edge. Remaining silent he took a drink of the Arkanian mead and sat it down closer to the edge.

"Side effects? None, to my knowledge."

There was a brief pause as Avernus bit his tongue, and his lip curled upwards with some displeasure.

"Why would you wish to squander such a gift? Surely a Colonel in our great empire isn't oblivious to the power of the force?"

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

A thin brow raised at the Sith in the silence, reaching over and tapping the menu and looking through the selection while he stewed. The frothy and bizarre selection were beyond her expertise and she swiped through the options, counting the seconds in her head as she selected something agreeable. Somewhere on the club floor the neon lights had changed dramatically with the music; patrons shouting in celebration. The Colonel returned a level stare toward Avernus when the twi’lek appeared, crossing her arms pointedly as she leaned back. Lyra narrowed her eyes, when the server had moved along- his little trick drew an exasperated sigh out of her; wholly unimpressed. Pale eyes glancing sideways, if he kept this up it wouldn’t be long until the party tricks drew the wrong attention.

What is a soldier loyal only to his commander and then top it off with something extra? A security issue. Lyra hadn't considered the sentiment to its full extent ten years ago but here she was; the liability.

"I have seen the power first hand and the detriments-but I am the one here to ask the questions am I not?" Lyra dropped her hands to hide the curl of her fist in her lap and she mirrored the man's sentiment. She had touched a nerve possibly, looking a Sith in the face and practically spitting on the Force..As if she hadn't weighed the power out in her own hands, but the matter had become sore, too personal to her now.

"Are there long term effects on a user who is untrained? Madness? Other users clearly can sense or even track a force sensitive individual can they not? To what degree and if they..mask it? What’s the required concentration?"

 

[Avernus]

His eyebrows raised in surprise when she demanded that she ask the questions. It took courage for a Non-Sith to be so assertive with a Sith, let alone a Sith Lord. Her confidence was admirable, amusing even. His surprised look quickly faded into an entertained grin. He could feel her fear and pain as she continued to speak. Interesting.

"Long term effects of being untrained? Regret from squandering such a gift, usually. Other than that, nothing notable."

Avernus brought his elbow onto the table and rested his chin in his palm. He levitated one of the taffy twists from the bowl and into his hand, trying to bait another reaction like she had earlier with the drink. He gave Lyra an inquisitive look as he chewed on the bar sweets. He sighed and leaned back, his expression shifting to a blank one.

"It is fairly easy to sense another sensitive. In fact, I figured it out within moments of speaking to you. The degree depends on the individual's skill in using the force to track someone."

Avernus' eyes narrowed and he leaned forward. The lights in the club had changed, accentuating his more sinister facial features with the angle he had taken learning over the table.

"To bury your presence in the force and 'mask' yourselves from others is... an advanced technique. You'd have to learn to use your emotions, like the fear you're feeling right now for example. Your inquiries make me think you're ashamed of having this gift. Does a colonel really find no appeal in acquiring further power? No appeal in making your fear work for you rather than being influenced by it?"

The lights changed again, this time with varying colors and movements and changed in-sync to an upbeat song that began to play. Avernus stopped leaning forward, taking a drink of the Arkanian mead again and wearing a smug grin over his face.

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

Lyra was amused by herself as his surprise showed, no grin crossed her lips but the slightest tilt of her chin betrayed her. Stoney faced, her hands uncurled and stretched out of sight. The Legion hadn’t beaten the pride out of her, tempered it maybe but had left her more vindictive than anything really. She stared pointedly at the elbow he placed on the table, he was manner-less too. The Colonel’s nose flaring as he continued his blatant use of the Force.

Squandered..had he taken a look in the mirror?​

“That was clearly noted,” Lyra muttered. Her previous attempts then and meditation had done no good.

She could see the game he was playing now and Lyra steeled herself. So be it, let him have his fun. Lyra glanced toward the bar to smother the growing outrage, raising an arm up to lounge back against the booth. Assessing the wealthy lot, between the skin and gold, Lyra’s disgust was simmering. Half of it was spice the other sex. Lyra was still listening but she had her answers mostly..chewing on his words but the maker help her; she needed a drink.

The years she had put down for the Legion, how many more between to ensure she couldn’t be tracked then in the field? When he leaned forward, Lyra swept her gaze back toward him, the cast of the strobes distorting the booth. Her frown slowly spread across her lips, tugging at the corner that had been chunked. A rush of hot air escaping her as he went on, her shoulders tensing. Tavlar reviled it enough, and she had heard the description of monsters and the Force in the same sentence.

It had driven him to cut it out of himself but she wasn't as self deprecating as to despise herself for it's possession; but how long until it poisoned the space between them. It had always been an unspoken question, a matter of trust that she did not dare upset. Once upon a time it had risked interrupting her ambitions, now the matter of righteousness weighed on her equally..To be influenced by fear was one thing, but planning accordingly for the worst case scenario wasn’t a fault. Reluctantly, the Colonel knew it was a double edged knife and would cut her either way she handled it.

“Spare me the insults, and keep out of my mind space,” Lyra spat, doubt picking at the edges of her mind whether she admitted it or not. There were some truth to his words but Lyra hadn’t come here to tango with his ego. “You may consider it wasted in your eyes, but I made something out of myself instead of waving my hands and performing tricks. I would not trade my years in the Legion for anything less. I came for information-to make an educated choice, not a physiological analysis. Let it be clear I am interested in efficiency not power.”

“One Soulean brandy,” another twi’lek appeared, she could have mistook her for the same woman from before if for her clothing; if you could call the 'tactful' strips of cloth such. The amber beverage was presented in chilled glass before the woman moved along.

Lyra wasted no time in seizing the glass, taking a long sip to hide her sneer. You could ask her charge in to a minefield, but this of all things, she was almost too cautious. Would he..if she..what did she want?

 

[Avernus]

Avernus' words had been sincere, but he had chosen them carefully to bait out an emotional response. Lyra might have kept a facade of composure on her exterior, but seeing past exterior projections was practically his sixth sense. The perturbation, the doubt, the continual fear, all of it worked to give him a better insight into the internal conflict that lead her to this meeting. In the moment, he focused on the feelings he sensed from her, and they all coalesced and gave him a mental image of a man's face. He didn't know who this man was, but he could make several inferences based on the feelings she emitted that allowed him to have the vision.

He found it amusing that she continued to be so bold in the way she spoke to him. It should be expected from a colonel, he supposed, though it came off as more of a defense mechanism rather than purely confidence if his read on her was correct. He squinted, giving her a probing stare as she spoke. When the server came he didn't even look their direction, continuing to quietly probe through her feelings. When he saw how quickly she lunged for the release of the liquid confidence he knew he was at least getting somewhere.

"You misunderstand, I meant no insult. As for staying out of your 'mind space' it isn't something that can be helped. It's a lot like hearing, you can cover your ears but you can never truly stop hearing, and your feelings are particularly loud."

He paused for a moment, scratching the side of his nose as a ruse to hide the sinister smirk that was creeping across his lips.

"What could be efficient about wasting your potential, Colonel Voi'kryt? You claim to have seen the power of the force, but I think you fail to truly understand it. Perhaps the propaganda amongst the non-sensitive has skewed your perception? Or perhaps the greying individual you keep thinking of is the source of your caution? I can feel that he is important to you in some way and that you're... afraid of disappointing them? Doing something contrary to their approval?"

Avernus took another drink, sinister smirk reverting back to a smug grin.

"Could I gain such insight if this was merely a trick? I can teach you to draw upon your fear, your passion, and make you so powerful that no one could deny you of anything. Not even him, whoever he might be. Is it not practical to ascend to a higher caste? Is it not practical to further yourself to the best of your potential? Your feelings, intentions, and your words all run clumsy circles around each other, Colonel. Why do you allow yourself to live with such internal conflict?"

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

The Colonel could count the number of times she had seen red on one hand, she could not feel the chill of brandy as she drank the last drop. Swallowing thickly she lowered the glass in the wake of his words, the rim hovering at the cusp of her lips. The alcohol had offered warmth to her cheeks but with it, the dull pain at the back of the skull reared its ugly head. She offered the Sith with a level stare, betraying nothing as she set the glass on the table calmly. You could almost miss the fissure and crack of the glass over the club's music; ugly lines ran across the glass, held together by a thread.

The man, if not for his shavit eating grin almost sounded benevolent. Temptation was meant to be sweet after all but this had turned into an interrogation. Cold seeped into her limbs, the leather of her gloves stretching as she gripped the edge of the booth’s table. The club blurred intensely around her as the pain bled across her head. She hadn’t noticed the glass. Her life had been one of service and every instinct warned her again reaching across the table. He was a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

The Sith had been rummaging through her mind this whole time, she felt equal parts sick and rose to her feet abruptly. She hadn’t even told Tavlar personally she was coming here. Lyra had been that concerned about his approval..but he hadn’t warned her before taking the leap..if she had been beside him at Kintan.

“Could you have gained what now, with that trick..? I think, should you have, would have been more appropriate,” Lyra seethed, placing extra care behind her words. “Careful now.”

It was a promise, one that carried weight.

“I’m finished here.”

The Colonel stepped out from the booth, one hand slipping into her coat before tossing a few credit chips across the table; the metal clinking across the surface. The movement disturbed the cup and the shards fell apart where she had left it, and her head whipped around staring at the damage, her eyes widening a fraction.

Lyra was more disgusted with how appealing it all sounded, but now security was her only concern. Tearing her eyes away from it, she gave the Sith one final withering look. She had turned down the last several rounds of advancement tests, they could pull her dead body off the frontline rotting before she gave that up. Had she hit the ceiling? Lyra wasn’t built for top command, she was a soldier first, hunt or be hunted She knew her emotions were rolling and she focused on nothing. She clung to that word like a manta and wading out into the club in search of the door, a firm hand guiding bodies aside. Seeking to put as much distance as she could between herself the Sith Lord. One hand swept over her face sweeping back her hair, running a thumb across the deepest scar on her forehead; it was no better than a tic. What could he do realistically in concerns to herself, to a General? It was her job to assess that.

Rarely do careers of our station end gloriously...It will be either from Sith rage or blaster bolt that I see my end..They weren’t her own words but they were apt.

 

[Avernus]

Avernus' eyes remained locked on the shattered glass as she waded her way through the crowd. Her anger was so potent that she could do such a thing involuntarily, not even having trained in directing the force to do such things. How could she maintain the idea of the force being nothing but a trick after she manifested such a power herself? If she could only learn to use her anger deliberately, she could prove to be very talented in the dark side. Had it not been for that display he would have just let her leave and accepted the loss. Understanding the full scale of the possibilities now, he was determined to press just a little bit more before he let her go. Her anger still lingered, and he reached out to it, pinpointing where exactly she had ended up in relation to him. He closed his eyes and focused on her anger and frustration until he gained a mental image of her walking through the door and starting down the street.

With a deep breath, he reached out to the force and attempted to will himself to her location. He felt a sudden jolt as the force pulled his essence through the space between them. With an odd warping sound, and a sudden flash of red Avernus appeared no more than a meter and a half in front of her. He was shocked for a split second, as he had only been able to that significantly shorter distances before. He was still in the process of learning how to do that, but the attempt had paid off, and he needed to act like he was totally confident in his move. He quickly suppressed all signs of his own surprise and held one hand up in a calm fashion in an attempt to signal that he had no hostile intentions. He wasn't oblivious to the fact that suddenly appearing before someone so angry was probably a potent ingredient for sudden violence.

"I will not stop you from leaving, but if you'll humor me I'd like to show you something that might better your understanding. I perhaps pushed too hard in getting you to embrace your emotions. I think you need a more tangible example of what you could aspire to become."

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

The Colonel’s hand was already resting just under the lapel of her coat when he appeared, fingers brushing her Fletchette. The release from the club had almost offered a breath of fresh air if only for a brief moment. Halting suddenly when the warping and sudden distortion appeared out of thin air producing the Sith in all his glamour, it had the hair on the back of her neck standing. Her hand twitched and a spike of fear shot through her for a brief moment, begging herself to pull the weapon even among a crowd of civilians.

Could he stop a slug shot on a pin drop? She bet on herself and her trigger finger.

The Colonel's hand stayed. Even through the travail of her anger, the Colonel exercised her discipline but a hot rush of air rushed from her lungs; body shaking. It would be a disgrace, waving a weapon around like a mad man. Lyra stared the Sith down, she had heard him but the words were mostly noise to her in the face of the gasps and gaping expressions of the district crawlers.

The thrum of the club and whispers all around forced her into clarity. She had an idea of what she wanted.

“If it involves you strutting around like a peacock in public I think not, if you realistically want me to consider anything. You should have led with that,” the Colonel leaned forward to hiss the words.There was a short pause as she considered him, negotiations were open..She inhaled deeply before pressing, “Do keep whatever you think you can hear from me, to yourself. I hate hearing things twice after all.”

What was she truly going to do? Flee back to her lodgings and twiddle her thumbs until her transport arrived. He was right..Lyra did not partake in half measures, and the hook was dragging her down; if she could come a fraction close to that control. If her end in violence was inevitable, this would make things more interesting. Her mute curiosity had been stirred then. Anywhere you looked in the Empire, it was ripe propaganda and stories, even if the lot of it was true she wasn't going to be one of them..Lyra would be something wholly different, something better.

The pandering was over though, there would be no pawning herself off and Lyra’s eyes narrowed.

“I’m humoring you,” Lyra brushed past Avernus with a raised brow, sizing him up. Her hand slipped from her coat as she tucked her hands behind her, marching down the street; set on shaking the throes of her rage off her shoulders.

 

[Avernus]

She had agreed to humor him, and despite her attempts at being collected on the outside, Avernus could still feel the same anger that crushed the glass earlier. Avernus was good at playing this game, but what kind of Sith wasn't good at manipulating people? It could be said that Avernus was odd for a Sith, as he didn't take pleasure from many things that other Sith did, and this included dishonesty. Sith philosophy was based around such necessary evils though, and though Avernus had a possibly more equitable view on Sith philosophy as a whole than many others, he still stood by and believed in it. It was his only right that he should train those with the power to use the dark side of the force to claim their rightful place. After all, it was necessary for the new generation to have the means to further the Sith's destiny as the rightful rulers of the galaxy.

His presence here had been the hook, and his words and actions had been the bait impaled upon it. Though she showed reluctance in her actions, he could feel how close she was to biting down on the bait and being taken by the hook. His small demonstrations had obviously caught her attention, even if they also arose negative emotion they did their job. Not that the negative emotion was bad it was an essential part of the pull of the dark side, after all. He expected the sudden appearance before her to peak curiosity, but it was clear, at least to him, that this probably motivated the further humoring, that it would take something more than simple demonstrations to convince her. He sped up to walk alongside her, the clopping of his platform shoes exaggerated by the speed of his steps.

"I know you didn't come all this way just to walk away essentially empty-handed."

He began to walk backward in front of her, having no trouble matching her speed.

"Let me show you something more tangible that demonstrates this power. Clearly these demonstrations aren't the kind of displays that interest you."

 

[Lyra 'Sybila' Voikryt]

He was quiet, she noted if only for a moment and she didn’t care for it. The Sith were putting on a show and that made the Colonel uneasy, even after drawing the line. The constant clack of his shoes served to further the headache but she grimaced through it. When Avernus turned to face her, Lyra rolled her eyes; always the stickler. The alcohol burned in her gut, that served her right for forgoing a meal. The noise of the club was fading behind them, and she was adamant about putting the whole district behind her. Her anger burned slowly, like a fuze fizzling out that settled in to annoyance; hyper vigilant.

“You are correct, but I would prefer if you got to the point my Lord. What can you show me?” Lyra tilted her chin up as she asked. Maker forbid, if he drew his light saber or went on a tangit about the occult descriptions and ceremony.

 

[Avernus]

​

It took some convincing, but Avernus managed to get Lyra onto his ship. As they left the Korriban City spaceport, Avernus changed into some far more unpretentious attire. A modest, and rather mundane black outfit coupled with a black cloak, something very typical of most other Sith lords. While dressing this way was contrary to his usual modus operandi, he felt that such opulent attire would be disrespectful considering where they were headed. He hadn't yet elaborated to Lyra about where it was taking her, and only that wherever it was would 'help her understand'.

His ship landed in an approved location in The Valley Of The Dark Lords. As the boarding ramp hissed and lowered, Avernus exited the ship and took a deep breath, looking out over the valley. The dark side was strong here, and every inch of his body could feel it. It was like every midi-chlorian in his cells quivered in response to the residual dark side energy that lingered here. The dull, red sunlight accentuated the ancient sith architecture in the valley, and illuminated the tip of the Sith Academy in the distance.

He stood at the end of the ramp, basking in the view and taking in the atmosphere which was thick with the dark side. He didn't address Lyra yet, wanting to gauge her reaction before he continued to press her about the force. If displays of the force itself weren't motivating, perhaps the lasting impact of the dark side and the power gained therefrom in the form of permanence through temples, architecture, and environment would paint a better picture.