Private Byssal Order's Up

[Naniti]

LOCATION: Byss, The Core, Covenant Space​

Near the top of one of the largest towers in the city resided a large, two level condominium. Richly furnished, but with an interior decorator's touch, the abode was surprisingly homey or warm. It bore contrasting dark and light hues alike to take full advantage of Byss' unique ambiance that poured in though floor-to-ceiling windows. They were VIPs of the Sith Covenant, after all. Acquiring one of the finest places for even a brief stay hadn't been difficult. People in power weren't half as stupid as most believed; they knew the Sith had free reign in every conceivable way. Appeasing them allowed people to live longer. Simple.

There'd been time before Lysander von Ascania arrived though. It allowed Naniti the opportunity to read the report she'd gotten her hands on. Maybe the Sith Lords weren't inclined to humor a paperwork inquiry, but they were 'willing' to give a Togruta access to the database where she could get whatever she wanted. Maybe what she wanted had nothing to do with the Covenant's present aims. It was just one report. No one would ever even notice or care.

She'd fallen asleep on the couch after reading the pad now on her chest.

When her blue eyes slid open, Naniti slowly sat up and pivoted to drop her feet to the floor. "Sithspit," she sighed. Despite a failure to resolve matters in a world within the world, the Togurta's fingers took hold of the data pad to set it aside calmly. Figured she wouldn't get it right the first time. It was so incomprehensibly vast. It was going to take time and a lot of attempts to figure out the right combination. The fact it was so far in the future didn't help either; so many variables to account for, Naniti expected many efforts would go awry long before the pivotal moment.

On her feet, she paused to look out the windows at the city with its slender towers. This was a world made for the Sith. Not that all of them knew it, but its history had been shaped by them before. Its reconstruction had brought back some of its vibrancy that had been lost, but a miasma of the Dark Side hadn't fled that region of space yet. It might not be the obsidian of the Deep Core any longer, but it wasn't a pristine diamond either. More of a teal sapphire anyway.

Nasty eating habits though. Some artisanal flare, which Naniti found influenced some of their culinary world, but the lay person seemed to like ordering 'foodstuff' from off world. People actually liked that stuff. Not that she couldn't eat it, but too many sweets and barely-recognizable-as-food products made her sick. Not to mention the after taste. How did people stand it?

In any event, she'd purchased some ingredients for a local dish that sounded health and delicious. It'd be good to eat in. Less people to overhear what they discussed. You could never be sure how many spies were listening. Naniti might be a humble Apprentice, but she was a humble apprentice with access. Made her a target for adversarial spooks. Plus, the two of them might be more inclined to talk about things others shouldn't hear about.

Maybe they could even just sit back and... Naniti glanced at the door before she looked back out the window. Well, he'd be there soon, anyway.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

The journey back from Ukatis clung to Lysander in unexpected ways. Though not typical of Sith, there was a softness brushing the edges of a hardened spirit, a knot once bound tightly finally loosened. If only slightly. The gift of being able to hold his niece, Luciana, feeling her tiny fingers wrap around his thumb with pure trust, stirred something long forgotten. To her, he was something safe, unaware of the darker deeds he had wrought across the galaxy in recent months. Temporarily, maybe. Or maybe not. So far, he purposely avoided examining it too closely..

The planet was beautiful and dangerous, a paradox that only Sith worlds could conjure. But.. Byss had its own flavor of darkness. Not the void which haunted much of the Deep Core now, nor the cruel austerity of Korriban. Something different. Whatever it may be, Byss didn’t feel quite as heavy as it should have..

The day's second training block always arrived on schedule. Morning and night.. without exception. A cadence his violet partner probably memorized by now to the exact hour. Even closeness needed its counterbalance. Whether that made him some creature of habit or someone holding tight to discipline, he wasn't quite sure. Perhaps a bit of both. In the end, it hardly mattered. Just as apparent was how he found himself buried in holotexts lately, anything to keep his mind from wandering down the wrong path.

Running.. roadwork, really.. was a pillar he built himself on. Never random, and far from leisurely. Structured threshold work. A dance with discomfort. Lysander thrived in this structured chaos. Honest data offered him their own sanctuary, quantified effort that granted clarity. Heartrate, distances, time.. all truths that would never lie or betray.

Nearing the finish, he stole a glance at the watch clasped around his wrist. Good wasn't enough; excellence was the baseline. And hitting the mark was never the end. A strong pulse thrummed in his chest, the very rhythm he'd worked hard to achieve. Beads of sweat traced paths down his face while breathing gradually slowed.

An hour passed by, ample time to collect his thoughts and begin anew. The elevator ascended smoothly. Upon reaching the top floor, an access card slid through the reader with a soft beep and granted him entry. Stepping inside, fingers found a towel left by the door, pulling it across a damp neck and the final droplets of his run. Eyes raised slowly, landing on the couch first, then shifting to the window where she stood.

The span of a few meters stretched between them until he closed it, halting just shy of her side. He traced the horizon beyond the skyline. "You're thinking too hard again," voiced in a slow, thoughtful murmur. "Let me in a little." The city faded and his attention circled back to her. "Or don't. Just.. let me stand with you while you sort it."

 

[Naniti]

Naniti slowly turned her head to look over at Lysander with one of her lekku drawn up along her shoulder as she did so. A second passed before the Togruta actually smiled at the damp man that'd come crawling back to her. "There's a lot to think about." She reached up to lay a hand on his upper arm. "And it isn't trying to anticipate what might happen, but what will happen. The longer the journey, the larger the map." How could she possibly remember every step, word, or deed necessary to reach a conclusion? Provided she could find the right conclusion. Maybe if she had a super-power of perfect memory and a complete lack of ego.

"Lys, I don't think we've ever really... talked about how I see things." Naniti's expression fell as she looked off to the side for a moment. "I told you I was," a grimace or scowl flickered across her lips, "different as a child. Saw the world differently. People didn't understand." Her eyes slid back over to him to see if he remembered that conversation. It'd been just a mention in a ballroom. "That's because I saw things before they happened. I saw them how they could happen if I influenced them. That is how I 'cheat.'"

With that she stopped and stared into his eyes, curious what he would think. She didn't go around telling anyone about her ability. It was difficult to tell Lysander, but he deserved to know. He needed to know. So much reside on his shoulders because of the Lords' lack of interest in mundane activities. They had the entire Core to control and manage, and for the most part they just didn't care -- long as the ships and the bombs and the meatshields kept coming for their wildly wasteful strategies of willingly marching them to destruction. It was truly absurd, but Naniti only cared because of how Lysander tried to balance things. He needed someone. She only hoped, perhaps, knowing she wasn't just another lightsaber that it might help him bear it all.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

The towel draped loosely from his fingers, hovering in that afterstate which heavier exertion always left behind. Emptied out.. and sharpened all the same. The familiar chemical storm still hummed beneath the surface, leaving Lysander alert and nearly defenseless. Seven kilometers. A five-thirty-two pace. Those numbers resided automatically for a few seconds longer before simply.. scattering.

Springing from some well, his own smile surfaced, before he could even grasp where the Togruta's words would carry them. The conversation could have been grim for all he knew, but by then it would have been too late. A foolish habit in most rooms.

He gave a small nod as a crease formed between his brows. “I remember,” slipped out slowly. Back on Jutrand, he let it remain a curiosity. There was another tell from the banquet table that night he hadn’t forgotten either.

“You’ve been sending me signals ever since," Lysander added thoughtfully. “And I’ve always been wrapped up in everything else to understand you as I should have.”

He could've fabricated plenty of excuses. But the truth was, those small journeys they shared before the Covenant charted its course toward the Core were among the few pleasant memories experienced since departing the Mid Rim years ago.

A quiet sweep of the room was taken before his recalibrated focus landed on her eyes.

"Some leaders spend their whole lives trying to develop that kind of insight and never quite come close. Is it more like seeing branches on a board, or more like feeling currents pulling toward a certain outcome?”

There were also Sith who would kill to possess that kind of awareness.

“You don’t need to worry about me repeating anything, Naniti.”

Gently, his hand reached across and settled atop hers for a breath, before drifting apart. “You know.. I can’t remember the last time we actually had a quiet evening. Looks like tonight's that night."

 

[Naniti]

Naniti gazed up into his eyes thoughtfully. Lysander's admission was actually appreciated. Sure, not exactly what a woman wanted to be told they hadn't been the number one priority in all things, but given the choice between Completely Oblivious and Aware if Needing Work the latter was better. Hopefully he wasn't so open and honest with those he needed to manipulate as part of his duties though.

The Togruta turned and stepped in a little closer, but not too close with him still being all hot and damp. The tip of her finger pressed against his chest. "Branches because I do see them. And hear them. And feel them." Slowly, her eyes fell to his chest and the smile softened. "Even the unpleasant outcomes." Suddenly, her eyes darted back up and the smile sharpened. "You'd be surprised how many ways you can royally screw up on a battlefield if you really try." Sometimes she couldn't resist exploring the What-Ifs that weren't meant to guarantee victory. Risks to explore how far things could be pushed. "Like... practicing how to hit a cue ball and learning all the ways you can scratch."

"That's sweet, Lys. I really wanted you to know." Because she wanted him to ask for help if he needed it to avoid the worst outcome. She hadn't forgotten Korriban though. If anything, his bullheaded desire for self-determination or self-reliance meant it would be more a struggle to convince him to ask for help rather than worry about him abusing her ability.

Wide-eyed, she gaze up at him as he spoke of them having a quiet evening together. "That's why I got some local ingredients so we could eat in. And from the look of things, you're going to need that protein."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

Calm came effortlessly here, free from the poise worn in more rooms as of late. The space bridging their gazes was gentle. Patient, attentive.. and even grateful. Most Sith were ruled by impulsive emotions, and he understood that truth didn't always arrive as comfortable company, even when delivered with pure intentions. But.. Naniti did have a way of drawing truths out of him. At times, he wondered if that might be another ability entirely.

“So.. it isn’t just sight. You’re.. experiencing them.” His brow knitted slightly, betraying the mind’s inner workings while considering the emotional toll her insight must exact. “Do they come all at once, or one possibility at a time? Or.. how does it shape the choices you make in the moment, knowing the road ahead is never.. singular?”

The concept she described sounded almost like delicate art, a burden, and a gift.. intertwined. Remarkably, she kept her own calm voice amid it all. Or so he'd always believed. How did she decide when to intervene.. or to let fate unfold? Of course, he didn't wish to bombard her with a flood of questions so soon.

A downward glance traced the touch she applied before meeting her again. “I'm wasn't going anywhere.”

Then a soft mm escaped him, thoughtful at first. Lysander shook his head once under his breath. “So you, like.. train yourself by testing disaster in theory, to avoid it in practice.” The Togruta was regarded with a curious tilt. “It’s almost a kind of dance, isn’t it? Teetering on the edge of chaos just long enough to understand it without falling in.”

“I’m glad you’re on my side of the board,” came a moment later.

The mention of ingredients tugged at his attention. Naturally, he was never opposed to a little reconnaissance when curiosity hit. The kitchen was only a few steps away, after all. Being versed in warfare and diplomacy didn’t make culinary any less compelling. Someone had stood somewhere deciding which flavors belonged together and which did not.

“What did you decide on?”

Lysander wanted the story. Her story.

And if he was going to reap the rewards, he ought to earn them.

"Do you need another pair of hands in there, or should I stay out of the chef's way?"