Close, But No Cigar

[Cameron Centurion]

Hyperspace enroute to Malagarr

Once [member="Naedira Darcrath"]'s vessel had entered the serene reality of hyperspace, Aiden stood from his seat and turned to face the Knight. Naedira was still dressed in her, undoubtedly, wet Obsidian Armor. Similarly, Aiden's efforts to dry his own clothing had proved fruitless once they set out for the spaceport. Pulling off the dark blue overcoat that he wore, the tall Sith allowed his bright gaze to find the chocolate orbs of Naedira once more. For a moment, he had no words to offer, but he certainly had thoughts. Thoughts that, honestly, he scarcely understood in the present reality of his life.

As a matter of consequence, Aiden certainly had not forgotten all that he'd felt and seen on Aikhibba. Even now there lingered the hint of something, like the touch of her presence had not yet fully receded from his mind, his soul. Clearing his throat, Aiden allowed his eyes to shift towards Naedira's damaged hands. "I should change into something...not wet." Given that he'd traveled to Aikhibba with Naedira, he did have a change of clothing on-board. "I'm sure you want to put some bacta patches on those. I'll come find you shortly to...fill you in on some things you should know."

The Minister didn't...really wait for a response. It wasn't that Aiden was purposefully trying to be rude, but he needed a few moments alone, a few moments of space. While physical attraction and lust were not foreign concepts to him, he felt none of those...oddly. At least, they were in no way overpowering sensations. In fact their existence seemed to circle around a larger mystery; the extent of which he was not yet sure. A mystery which very much was overpowering.

As his footfalls faded from the cockpit and entered his own modest quarters, the Sith Lord immediately started stripping off wet clothing. In less than two minutes, he had changed into a simple pair of pants and an athletically-fitted, long-sleeve shirt. Quietly, Aiden exited his quarters and proceeded towards the ready area he presumed Naedira would have relocated to shortly after he departed the cockpit.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

[member="Aiden"]

Naedira had almost fallen asleep. She was soaking wet, like a drowned Loth-Cat, but she was still suddenly sweepingly exhausted. With all that Aiden was still ringing through her veins he stirred when he did. His movements roused her, pulling her back to wakefulness, and she breathed deeply. Her body ached. His eyes found her in the dim lighting and she could only shift beneath such a stare. It was as if he saw all of her. Easily. Not, just the parts she wanted him to see.

Her lips parted to respond at his suggestion that she take care of her hands, however, he was already lumbering off in the other direction. As if he couldn’t get away fast enough. Her brow drew together for a moment before she leaned her head back against the headrest for a long moment. A soft sigh escaped her, clearing her mind, her lungs, and her anxieties.

For the life of her—she didn’t know what she’d done. But, something, had gone astray.

Eventually, she steeled herself, and unhooked her crash-webbing so she could stand up. The way to her quarters and the medical facilities weren’t far. She went first to shower and change into something that didn’t squish when she walked. Her hands caused her to move slowly, carefully, but in the end she made do. The typically heavily dressed Obsidian wore an off-the-shoulder sweater on top of a pair of plain dark leggings. A pair of flats with no-slip grips kept her toes from touching the chilly floor.

Her hair was left down. It was infrequent that it would be seen as such—but she couldn’t braid when her hands felt this way. They were starting to blister and were even worse after a warm shower. Naedira’s next stop was the medical bay. She wouldn’t be of any use to anyone if she couldn’t hold a weapon properly. Not long later found her patched up. The bacta worked its magic pretty well and the constant throbbing eased rather quickly. A few painkillers, civilian grade, and she would be right as rain.

Naedira stopped by the small galley to pick up two botas of water and something to eat. Fighting was draining. No matter how little. A tray floated quietly behind her as she made it to the ready room. There were tables, chairs, and even an area that had been converted for comfort to accommodate furniture that wasn’t quite so Spartan. “Here…”, she called to Aiden, and a chilled water bota floated toward him, while he entered through the adjacent pathway.

The tray held a limited assortment of sliced meat, cheese, and bread that brought itself to the low coffee table. It was simple food for a simple palette. Naedira was from Naboo and it was one of her few guilty pleasures that she preferred fresh food over freeze-dried auto-chef creations and rations. Fine dining was also something she was iffy on. There was often a strange aftertaste that she could never quite get past. Whenever possible? She would eat fresh and natural. In a pinch, or in the field, a go-bag full of protein packed necessities would also definitely do. “You should eat something.”

Aiden had mentioned that he had something to tell her. Patience fell from her while she settled into the corner of one of the couches, wrapped in her sweater, and seeming incredibly small outside of her armor. She cracked open her water bota and took a sip before drawing her knees up so that she could lay her head against the sturdy fabric.

She didn’t stare, or pester, but simply took the moment to breathe, hydrate, and relax.

If Nae ever saw another member of the Praexium it would be too soon.

 

[Cameron Centurion]

[member="Naedira Darcrath"]

Aiden glanced up as Nae swept into the ready room. The Sith Lord’s mind started to wander near instantly, but it was distracted enough by the refreshments the woman offered. Plucking the water out of the air, Aiden permitted himself a casual nod of the head. ”Thanks,” was the simple response that he was able to offer the woman as exhaustion from manipulating the Force to alter the environment began to creep into his bones. Ordinarily, Aiden would just rebuff his vitality by partially and subtlety draining the life force off others.

However, Aiden was certainly not in any ordinary situation at the moment. Bright eyes searched Naedira’s face as if it contained all the secrets of the Force while he opened the water. For a few moments, they sat just like that in silence as Aiden gulped down half the bottle. Reaching for the platter of food, Aiden picked up a couple pieces before putting them into his mouth.

Once the caramel-skinned Sith was done chewing, he cleared his throat softly. There was no real lead-in or beating around the bush. Unlike others of his relatives, Aiden did not offer Naedira some unfiltered stream of his life’s memories. That would certainly be too much for someone that was ill-prepared. Still, Aiden knew the woman seated across from him was much the same in regards to her direct communication style. It was one of the many reasons that Aiden was...fond of Naedira.

”We are enroute to Malagarr. It is one of the ancestral homeworlds of my family.” Aiden paused for but a moment, deciding how best to summarize thousands of years of history. ”In a time long since forgotten by history, the eldest ancestors any of my family know of ruled over a sweeping Empire in the Unknown Regions and Wild Space. She was from Malagarr and he was from Endelaan. Their names were Boadicea and Maximus. My family members have a tendency to live...long lives. Some do this through manipulations of the Force, some spells, some are...mixed with other species that have great longevity.”

Leaning back in his seat slightly, Aiden continjed with two thoughts. ”My two living brothers share the same father as I, but I am the eldest at right around centuries of life. Centuries that I actually lived. One of my brothers, Diomedes, has not been seen since before the Gulag. The middle brother you know as the former Viceroy if Druckenwell, Cain Centurion. He has only been consciously alive for roughly thirty years, though his date of birth was nearly seven centuries ago as well.”

Reaching for more food, Aiden added further detail to his statements before placing two more pieces of meat into his mouth. ”I say this only to explain the history of my family...briefly. When we arrive on Malagarr, you will find the society remains much as it once did thousands upon thousands of years ago. Malagarr and Endelaan were joined when the warriors of Maximus of Endelaan swept across the galaxy, conquering everything in its path...until he came across the sorceress of Boadicea of Malagarr. The battle raged endlessly until one of them extended the olive branch, joining their forces in a bond of ruling. This bond quickly turned to a love that was just a destructive a Force upon an unsuspecting galaxy as either of them were independently. Both planets mirror this culture today, that of a dichotomy between warriors and sorceresses. The difference...you will find men and women now occupying both sides of that coin. As for me...”

The pause was long enough for Aiden to consume the elected items and swallow before continuing on. ”I was born of Cameron Centurion, like my brothers, and a woman by the name of Alia Ravyns - rumored to be my father’s first true love despite his many subsequent partners. Unlike my brothers and two of my three sisters, whom I have yet to meet, Maximus and Boadicea has possessed my father and mother’s bodies during conception. Their reasons...I can only guess at, but they raised me. Cameron and Alia never conciously knew of my existence. For forty years I trained and learned from them before ever truly striking out on my own. I was raised in the ways of Endelaan and Malagarr. As my ancestors had no surname, they never granted me one, and I never assumed my biological father’s last name. The youngest of my immediate family, Elora, was born in the same way, but she was raised by Cameron and Shery deWinter, grandmother to Scherezade deWinter. Very close the early generations of my family.”

Aiden’s nose wrinkled at the thought. He was not a particular fan of...keeping it in the family. ”When we arrive on Malagarr, you may find it’s inhabitants look upon you and treat you as a Princess. This is a result of you accompanying me. No member of my family can ascend from being a Prince or Princess to King or Queen without bonding with a member of the opposing side of the coin. It is a gravely serious part of our culture. However, you need not worry... I have no immediate designs on the thrones of Malagarr or Endelaan.”

The faintest hint of a smile touched Aiden’s lips for the simple fact that, he certainly did have designs on acquainting himself with every aspect of Naedira’s physical prowess. In fact, he had stayed his hand and thoughts this long largely out of respect. A respect that he understood from an academic standpoint. The underlying emotions, however, he refused to acknowledge completely.

Usually.

In most situations.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

[member="Aiden"]

Naedira settled down in the corner of the couch and wrapped one of her arms around her midsection while she nursed a bota of water. Aiden thanked her for the refreshments and she nodded her head tiredly. She could feel his eyes. The Nabooian female didn’t need to look up to know that he was piercing her with those silver-green eyes. Anxiety was not something she had grown accustomed to feeling so acutely, however, the electric feel of his aura still lingered just beneath the surface of her skin.

The brief separation hadn’t helped, neither had her shower, and she still didn’t know what it was. The young woman could feel him the same way she felt the clothes on her body. It was something metaphysical. The Knight just didn’t have the words or the skill to explain it.

She didn’t touch the tray of meats and cheeses on the table. At least, not yet. Partly out of exhaustion and partly because her stomach was turning over in knots. Water was best for now.

Chestnut orbs pulled toward the Minister when he cleared his throat. They were in an informal setting but he still held rank on her several times over. It was a universal sign, despite the comfortable silence, that it would soon end. Her eyes swept over him, touched with curiosity, and something that lacked a proper name. Throughout the explanation of his origins, she remained quiet so that he could speak freely. He would know that he had her attention, as she soaked up information like a sea sponge, but commentary could wait until the tale reached completion.

Malagarr.

Naedira had never heard of it. Nor had she ever heard of Endelaan. It was far from surprising. The Unknown Regions, Wild Space, were vast and wide with plenty of lesser known planets. It made sense that they would have their own history. By the time he finished speaking there were several questions dancing on her tongue. When they had first met he had alluded to his age. But, so had many a Sith Lord. “…Eight centuries…?”

Her words were breathed out. Not entirely a question, though, not entirely a statement. He mentioned that the former Viceroy of Druckenwell had only lived consciously for a short time. Well, short, in comparison to Aiden. It froze her to think that he was closer in age to the next millennia over he own age. It was no small wonder that he was capable of ignoring her so well. Compared to his longevity—her experiences were little more than a grain of sand on a beach. “How young I must seem to you.”

Naedira glanced at the floor for a moment before addressing more of what she had just heard. Some of it sounded too fantastical to be true. But, that was life. The galaxy was full of hidden wonders. Who was she to question it? Or him? The Force often worked in ways she did not understand. She had dedicated herself to learning as much as she could but it still found ways to surprise her. “How long were your birth parents possessed?”

“Scherezade deWinter…”, Naedira paused, her eyes narrowing while she tried to recall what she knew from the Knight archives. She had spoken to Aiden once about the green-eyed woman-child before. There was something miraculous about her disappearance and the subsequent arrival of Madalena Antares and with a few leaps and bounds, there were only so many educated assumptions she could make. “Scherezade is Madalena. Isn’t she? The eyes… You don’t forget that shade. Not ever.”

There were plenty of rumors. The security that the CIS employed when it came to the data on their employees was difficult to hack through, but, it wasn’t perfect. When the code was altered or changed it often left behind little broken pieces that could be followed like digital breadcrumbs. The trail that led to Madalena Antares came from nothing. A history that had no verbal substantiation. A perfect service record that no one in the CIS actually remembered.

Naedira had been stationed on Relovian at the time, however, Knights talked. Most of them were incredibly forthcoming when they found something suspicious. Scherezade deWinter had been registered with the Confederacy under the Mandragora. Something happened. She went completely dark and then a woman bearing her face, her eyes, reappeared months later as if she had existed all this time? The coincidences were too much.

Nevertheless, despite her guessing games, it was far from the most pertinent part of the conversation. In all honesty, it took Naedira a long moment to figure out what “bonding” Aiden was referring to when it came to ascending the throne. She hadn’t put the connection together between why his people would treat her so well, just because, she walked at his side. The bare smile that teased his lips was what filled in the missing pieces and a soft blush stole briefly up her neck.

The young woman looked away, until it faded, before addressing her next inquiry.

“Why do you wish for me to accompany you? Is it dangerous?”

If a Viceroy, a Prince in his own right, wished for her sword he would have it. Naedira deliberately avoided political fields but she could navigate a battlefield as if she had been born to it. No one would suspect it by looking at her, especially not now, curled up and drawn in on herself. It was the only thing that had ever resonated with her. She had tried to learn diplomacy for the sake of her Mother’s side of the family, for her cousin, and while the concepts were easy enough to grasp she had no passion for it.

Slowly, she sat up, and leaned forward enough to set her water down on the table. She surveyed her bandaged hands, turning them over slowly, before her eyes went back to him. Naedira held his gaze for a long moment. The Knight didn’t know how to phrase what she had felt on Aikhabba. What she was still sensing, even though, his presence had quelled with the cessation of his ability use. “I can feel you. Not just your aura. I could always feel that. This…This is not the same.”

“It’s…inside....”, she paused, searching for the words, almost helpless to put a name to it. “It's...You.”

Everything. All of him. It was invasive, curious, and new. It was a bantha in the middle of the room and the auburn-haired woman had no true words for how it actually made her feel. Uneasy. Not because it injured her, or caused distress, but because it held the very opposite effect.

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Aiden allowed the faintest hint of a smile to twitch at the corners of his lips in response to [member="Naedira Darcrath"]'s question about his age. He didn't offer her a verbal response. Instead the Sith Lord merely dipped his head in assent. "Youth...is less a function of age than it is collective life experience and maturity. With the diversity of races throughout the galaxy, age is all relative anyways. However, I assure you that I regard you as merely that which you are: confident, capable, and hungry for knowledge. That make your outlook and approach to life much more matured than many that have inhabited the galaxy for several more decades."

As the content of the woman's questions shifted to that of family, Aiden was silent for several moments. "I cannot be sure when exactly the possession of my parents initiated. However, my father was only possessed long enough to conceive me with my mother. My mother remained possessed from my conception until I was roughly thirteen years. On that day, Boadicea forced my mother to kill herself before retreating back to the ether from whence she came. Neither of my parents ever knew. Such was the...strength of the possession."

It was an interesting revelation to consider. [member="Scherezade deWinter"]'s own action was very similar albeit in the reverse. The new entity had no idea of the other residing in the same shell. In fact, Aiden did wonder if Scherezade was...experiencing everything that Madalena experienced. Truthfully he wondered if that was even a good idea. It seemed as though it would be rather counterproductive. Would feeling as though Madalena was better than her help to...repair Scherezade? Maybe, maybe not. "Yes," came the simple reply to the question about Scherezade. "They are one in the same."

Silver-green eyes danced about Naedira's facial and physical features as her tanned skin took own a softer, rose color. There wasn't anything...penetrative about his gaze, nor was it suggestive. If it could be likened to anything, it was something of admiration and respect. It was like Aiden was seeing the woman for the first time. She needn't say anything for this to occur. As their presences continued to mingle about one another, there was so much to be felt and discovered. On the surface of the world they had just left, Naedira had been immersed, drowned within the very current of everything that made the Sith...who he was.

Casually, Aiden placed two fingers against the center of his chest. "While I... I did not intend for the experience on Aikhabba to be so intimate, it did happen. This is not the curious reality. The curious reality is the degree to which my soul seemed to...react to your own. I've felt other people's presences countless times; never has it been so...so nearly visceral. It's curious to me."

Lowering his hand, Aiden exhaled softly. Though he did not know exactly what it meant, the Sith Lord knew enough. The entire prospect was...not one he was willing to even acknowledge out loud. However, a visit to Malagarr was...both close enough and distant enough to Endelaan. A part of him was hoping the experience would simply scare her off...or somehow show him it was just a oddity.

Not...more. Something that echoed across the ages.

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

Naedira wanted to be skeptical. Eight. Centuries. He seemed amused by her surprise and her hackles rose in unnecessary defense. He followed up her commentary that felt like it ought to have come from a Jedi over a Sith Lord that had been toddling around the galaxy long enough to see dozens of nations, empires, and whole civilizations rise and fall. Of course, it would seem relative from his unique perspective. What felt like an eon to her, in regards to time, would simply be another grain of sand on a beach somewhere for him. His assessment of her character was noted.

Some women might take it as a compliment. She did not. It was an observation, simply, flavored with an opinion.

Her incredulousness about his age shifted to the back-burner when Aiden began to explain more about his parents. Both sets. When it came to the story of Boadicea forcing his birth mother to kill herself the Knight could feel her lips form a frown. It seemed cruel. Unnecessarily, for a child, to lose his mother in two forms. Even if the loss was unknown. It was a waste.

That frown only deepened when Aiden confirmed her silent suspicious about Madalena Antares. There had been one too many things that didn’t add up when it came to the discussion of Scherezade and her doppelganger. Naedira, like many of the Knights, weren’t stupid. The perfect record and sudden disappearance of the ward of Katrine Vanderveld hadn’t gone unnoticed. Not at all.

“I don’t understand the transition. I am also not the only one aware of it. The sudden redaction of Scherezade was not handled on an official level. A slicer must have been hired.”

Which meant that the entirety of the Confederate databases had been placed at risk for no reason that Naedira could come to a rational conclusion about. All she knew, in an immediate sense, was that the issue had been reported by the Minister of Commerce so that their systems could undergo a full diagnostic. If any back doors had been left during this process, it would be found, and hopefully dealt with before any further damage could be inflicted.

The discussion turned. His gaze changed. It was a curious thing that she couldn’t quite figure out. Her eyes were shadowed, silent, but nothing would stop the subtle curl of rouge that spread across olive-toned skin. His expression needn’t be suggestive. It was the fact that someone took the time to view her, in any way, when she was unused to that sort of attention. It was easy to hide behind the patterned hoods of the Knight Obsidian. When he spoke next, her eyes averted, focusing on some imaginary point in the ready room.

“Curious is not the way I would word it.”

Perhaps it was commonplace for the dark-haired man to discuss the nature of a soul. The Force? Certainly, but that wasn’t what they were referring to. Not really. She brought her water to her lips and finished it off. Bandaged hands squeezed the cap back on, before her feet slid forward, so that she could stand. Her arms rose and she stretched. “I won’t pretend to understand. Because, I don’t.”

Naedira settled and approached Aiden. Even seated, he wasn’t that much shorter than she was. She leaned forward, clearly looking for something in his expression, though, she wouldn’t put it to words. The green of his eyes had rarely seemed brighter to her. The silver hue that had pierced her one too many times. Never, had she seen him the way she did now. An invisible curtain had been drawn back and so much of the mystery that had kept her at a distance seemed to have vanished. She felt close. From seated on the couch, feet away, she felt close.

“…I’m going to get another water…”, she breathed slowly, pulling back, so she could straighten. Whatever it was that she’d been looking for—The Knight seemed to have found it.

Though her countenance remained steady, strong, and smooth in Aiden’s presence it would slowly begin to evolve as she made her way to the galley. Her heart was pounding. Why? It didn’t make any sense. He’d always been handsome. He’d always looked this way, so why, did she feel so breathless when he was near? Her hands found the countertop and they slid apart as her head bowed. Stretching again, carefully, trying to find her center.

A burning sensation in her palms, from the pressure to the counter, wasn’t nearly as sobering as she thought it would be. Pain was often the perfect equalizer. It cleared the mind when outside forces sought to sweep in and corrupt. But, was that the case?

She exhaled heavily. Shaking, inside.

No. It didn’t help at all.

[member="Aiden"]