Giving the Tiger her Fangs

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Sylvanan, perhaps in a bid to gain a little more trust from the notoriously distrustful Twi'lek, had offered to put her in touch with someone who might help with the force side of things. Never one to turn down an opportunity, Chiasa had accepted. She knew next to nothing about this [member="Cyril Grayson"] except that he was a force-user and apparently an ally.

She had no idea what form of help was intended. Force training? A duel? Hopefully not a lightsaber duel, though she'd found her crystals and bought the components, she'd not assembled the damned things yet. She needed to find more information, she didn't intend to risk the prizes she'd taken from Enigma Prime on some half-assed attempt. That was a waste. She didn't have the time for trial and error and repeated jaunts back to the cavern. Better to do it right the first time.

She'd arranged to meet him on Far Pando. The Ravens owned land there, fields laying fallow. It would be good for either sort of help. Plus anything to do with Sylvanan it was best to be discreet about, there were no eyes or cameras here, though she'd logged her flight plan with Declan before she left.

As her ship settled upon the field and the ramp lowered her brows knit momentarily. A sense of deja-vu washing over her. As if she'd been here before and it had been important.. No memory came however, and with a slight shake of her head, the Twi'lek moved to sit on the ramp and wait. Flipping through correspondences on a datapad as she did. There was always work to do.

 

[Placeholder 04]

There were things Cyril's allies on Balmorra could never know. COntacts he worked with they would never accept. For one to succeed, he needed to get his hands dirty. It was just the way the galaxy worked. A man needed allies this day and age, be they political or otherwise. Sometimes you needed to work with less than savory characters to reach your goals.

This was one such time.

His Belbulab starfighter settled to the ground a ways away from the Raven ship. He knew who he was here to train - she would be needed in the coming weeks. A debt from the president of the Red Ravens might very well change the course of the war, if things went well, and establishing connection was just another way to bringing that success about quicker.

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"] was no ally of the Sith, and that made her a friend.

He was clad in his Jedi robes, a simple gray cloak with obsidian armored plating beneath, and combat boots. His lightsaber hung free on his belt, and a cursory look would reveal the blades of both Darth Vulcanis and his mother clinging to a clip within his cloak. He approached Chiasa's ship with a purposeful stride.

"I'm the man you've come to meet, my friend." He came to a halt at the bottom of the ramp, and offered a wan smile. "Cyril Grayson. I represent the Jedi Order and the Galactic Republic...though right now I'm currently on Balmorra. Officially anyway."

He tilted forward in a half-bow.

"I hear you need help swinging your glowstick around?"

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

Because she'd not known what to expect, Chiasa had dressed very practically, for her in any case. Without the jacket at least. What if she was expected to go somewhere nice directly after this? One never knew what was going to happen. As the starfighter had landed, she'd risen to her feet, datapad set aside.

"Chiasa Kritivaas, as I'm sure you've gathered."

Was her response with a warm smile and a slight inclination of her head when he he bowed. Still a part of her was suspicious when he listed his official affiliations. That he was AWOL only mollified her slightly. She did not like the Republics leader. Originally this had been because the woman had shot Lysle, and been a driving force in the Rebel Alliance. When Lysle became an enemy and the Alliance a friend, her feelings had persisted simply because having interacted with the woman she found her not only insufferable and bad at her job, but also unpredictable, and therefor dangerous.

"I'm afraid our mutual acquaintance may have left some details out. I could certainly use help swinging glowsticks around, but have not in fact finished crafting said glowstick.. It would be hard for me to practice with it as it is."

Of course there were two at his waist, but unless they had been built with the lower practice setting, they likely should not be given to her. Besides, people could get a bit funny about their sabers. A feeling she understood better now that she'd spent so long aligning her own crystals.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

His lips pressed into a thin smile. He'd expected such. The Arkanian had given sparse details on Chiasa's situation - that she needed some form of training, and that she lacked the weapons to do so. Force willing she had crystals with her, otherwise this would be a much longer exercise.

"I have the materials to build a weapon in my starfighter, if you have the crystals." He explained. "I'll lead you through the process. Screwing it up can be...bad. Explosion bad."

He gave her a short once over. She was attractive as he had been led to believe through holograms and the like. Most Twi'leks were. That gave her no advantage over the Jedi - he was dedicated to his cause, not carnal desires. "And please, don't feel the need to harbor any animosity towards me because of my beliefs. We have the same enemy, after all, and some of the same allies."

He cast a look off in the distance. The planet was remote enough to keep his whereabouts secret, and it was not unusual for him to take trips alone. His people on Balmorra would be none the wiser about his activities. It was a cold comfort given who he was here to help.

"Then, I'l teach you how to swing the glowstick."


[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"I have the crystals."

She confirmed, with a nod of her head. She'd been planning three lightsabers, in honesty. One traditional, two.. less so. He could help her with the traditional one, giving her the knowledge she needed to continue the others alter on her own. She was quite keen on no explosions, when possible.

"Shall I tell you not to harbour any discomfort towards me because of my line of work?"

She returned with an amused smile and quirk of her brow. His words had all been correct and pleasant, and this was not a matter of mind reading or telepathy. This was the reading of subtle physical cues. He would work with her, but he did not like her. There was just enough stiffness in him that it as clear he would rather be elsewhere. Assisting someone else. It was perhaps this more than anything that set her mind at ease. If Lasedri had set him on her there would be a different sort of tension in him.

"Where do you prefer to work? In the open or on my ship?"

Her Washburne class could easily accommodate them both, but perhaps he would prefer to stay out in the sun. She asked so she knew where to bring what she had collected to. No point rushing in to grab the crystals, rushing out again only to head right back in.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"I've done far worse in my youth. I can't condone you for your actions." He admitted, lifting his shoulders in a slight shrug. Selling drugs was a terrible thing. So was extortion, human trafficking, and a number of other activities the Ravens indulged themselves in. Still, Cyril had done worse, much, much worse. He could not judge.

"Out here. I don't know about your training with the force, but it helps me get in tone with it when surrounded by nature. It is centered around the natural world, after all."

He turned partway around, and examined Chiasa sidelong. It wasn't subtle. He studied her form, from the curve of her waist to the stripes on her Lekku. To his surprise, she was fit enough to withstand his training. Most people this day and age were not physically capable of meeting the requirements lightsaber combat demanded. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief, and visibly relaxed.

"You've got a good form. One of the more acrobatic forms might suit you." He informed, urning on his heel to retrieve on of the many empty hilts he possessed. There were six in total, made of various pieces that could be detached and reattached as needed. He'd lost many lightsabers in the past - it only made sense to carry parts for spares and repairs.

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

She'd nodded once when he decided they would stay outside. Well and good. She did not like nature quite frankly, but Far Pando had been tamed and brought to heel long ago. This was no Orrazerus, the worst she might find were a few non lethal bugs. Her training was.. erratic at best. And largely done only by herself. She always looked inward. To her own strength, her own connection, her own reserves. Likely this limited her, but she knew no other way.

Then he started studying her. The Twi'lek was largely used to men eying her up but this was stretching into something very nearly either comical or uncomfortable, before he suddenly relaxed, declared her fit, and headed off for his ship. He was an odd duck this Jedi. Still, the compliment, for so she chose to interpret it, kept her from taking any offense, and she preened internally. She'd been a dancer, she'd not lost any of the muscle tone or definition, in fact if anything she'd gained more, pushing herself. She'd been working or martial combat after all. She wasn't certain how successful she'd been, but she'd been trying.

As he went to his ship, she re-entered hers. Fetching both the orange light saber crystal, giving the other two twin yellow ones, a slight caress and a pleased hum, as well as the components that she'd already acquired. She'd not put him out more than necessary. Likely he had parts she was missing. Plus she rather liked the hilt she'd made. Gathering it ll up, she moved back outside to meet him.

It was odd, the crystals. She'd kept all the crystals she'd taken from Enigma Prime with her, for about two weeks. Every moment of the day, and bent her attention on them whenever it could be spared. Now she was aware of them, and would swear they were aware of her, in their own way. She was fairly certain that was what was meant to happen however.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

He would not speak it, but private thoughts were setting Cyril ok edge. This woman was no Jedi. She lived for greed, power, her own self-service. She did not have the desire to serve, to help others for the sake of it. She was closer to a Sith in every thing but name then his kind. Still, he needed her in a sense. Making the final move without help from the Red Ravens would be messy.

He returned with a single emitter and the various technical components required. All were held within the confines of his cloak as he approached. His gaze came to rest upon hers, searching the Twi'lek for...something. As to what, he was not sure.

"You'll need the emitter to produce the blade. The lightsaber's energy loops back on itself, so you'll have to make sure the components are aligned correctly. Otherwise it will explode in your hands." He explained, setting the various pieces out on the grass.

"Before we begin...I have to ask. Is this all you want to be? The head of a criminal empire?" He lofted a brow. "You could be so much more. The galaxy is falling apart, and our numbers are dwindling. We can't stop it without help." He explained. Who he spoke of was obvious: the Jedi Order.

She would say no of course. Perhaps she would even be angry, or throw some pointed reason in his face. He did not care. He only needed to ask it for his own peace of mind.

"As for the blade, you need to fixate the parts around the crystal. It's a time consuming process, and all the details must be perfect if you want the blade to perform correctly. Let the force guide your hand, and you can't fail." He settled down in the grass, legs folded over each other. "I'll monitor you to make sure nothing goes wrong. If anything is amiss, I'll intervene."






[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

"I would prefer to avoid that."

She commented wryly in regards to the proto-saber exploding in her hands. Hands were useful, regardless of how could prosthetics were these days she'd like to keep hers.

"All? Perhaps not, if you'd asked me that before the Ravens were mine."

She actually considered his question. There was no reason not to, and it often paid to see things from more than one angle.

"Now you want.. what? For me to go sit in a temple and obey the orders of a woman who engaged in terrorist activities herself? To learn about love and light and cosmic justice and be constantly pushed and beaten back by the Sith? The galaxy is falling apart, who would hold my corner of it together if I abandoned it? I would not walk out on my su'si ercio, where everyone before me has."

This last was delivered with heat, and.. not memories precisely, but feelings, essences were thrust at him. Keiras darkness but her loyalty, her devotion. Xalus' unwavering silent companionship. Krius, and how dangerous he was, but also lost and alone. Khal, bound to her by a force-sworn oath, her Blood. Zenvas love of her clan and her staunchness. Jarvens dedication, his openness and naivety. Dakitas love of life. Foebacca, Amelia, Genu, Bryn, Asteria, Leilani, Mir, Jenna, Dryzl, Glim, Taenya.

They were all hers, and she loved them fiercely. Even the ones she did not trust, she loved all the same. She could not walk away from them. It was not about money or power anymore. She was smarter than those who had come before her. She'd paid herself a wage all these years, and could walk away now and stay rich and powerful. This was all the family she had, and she would not leave them.

As her family had left her.​

A nagging feeling, as if something was forgotten, something important, but she could not reach it, and so set it aside.

That question dealt with, she followed suit, and settled herself down on her knees, sitting on her heels. For a brief moment, yellow eyes closed. There was a time for heat and passion, this was not it.

Settle.

She told herself, and could almost feel the crystal humming it's agreement. It was not time to fight, it was time to create. First to ensure she and the Crystal were in tune. She was good with telekinesis, as long as the things she was affecting were small. All the musti-tasking she had to do on a daily basis came into play, the juggling that was constantly a part of her life. She lacked the raw power of some, throwing speeders and such about, but that was unnecessary now. The crystal rose into the air, hovering before her. For several minutes this was all that happened, as Twi'lek and crystal communed. Much of this work had already been done however.

She had read that it was best to do it this way, telekinetically, so that all the pieces could fit together exactly, align just so, with no risk of finger getting in the way or preforming clumsily. Slowly the first few pieces rose to find their spot, hovering apart from the crystal until the exact placement was decided upon and then moving into position.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

"It's the people that think the Sith have already won, that have already lost. As for Gen, I don't much care for her former activities. She's effective, and the Order does not answer to her." It was all the truth really. The Jedi Order was an ally of the Republic - not a subset. It seemed as if everyone thought the Sith had already won the war, and those people tended to be on Cyril's bad side. The war was far from over.

Then he felt it. The flame of her passion, a powerful blaze now, but it would grow into a wildfire. It would consume everything eventually. He'd seen it far too many times before. There was no point trying to help this woman, and he commitment to such a horrible thing...

Cyril was disgusted. It was not a form of arrogance. He did not look down on the Twi'lek as a lesser being for what she did. He was disturbed by what she perceived as her idea holding the southern systems together. He'd seen what they were like far before the Red Ravens ever turned up. Some were in a bad shape, yes, but others were peaceful worlds with elected governments. Places where people could raise their families and live happily.

The Twi'lek's people had taken that away from them. She would receive no sympathy from Cyril - no, his was a cold reception, and for a moment, he reflected that within the force. An aura of disbelief, not of shock, but expected displeasure. It was the same way he'd looked upon arrogant Padawans; childish, unwise, misguided.

And then it was gone.

"Decide what your blade is. Is it a tool to defend the weak? A weapon to crush those who would speak out against you? A trinket for you to show off? The purpose is just as important as the crystal itself."

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

She felt him, and his response within the Force. And it both baffled and angered her. He wanted her to go join the Jedi and fight the Sith.. She already fought the Sith. She was likely working towards far more effective weapons and plans than he was, and she was doing it for the closest thing to family that she had. And he sat there and judged her. Looked down upon her. This was why she could not be a Jedi. Who was he to think so little of her? Did he even understand what she did most days? Did he know what the Ravens brought to most worlds that fell under their wings? The way the crushed out not civilians, but competing criminals? They way they largely left civilians and governments to get on with it? Taking only either a percentage or lands, a foothold? The way they shied away from too much carnage or mayhem as bad for business? That they brought stability and an economic boom? But she was criminal. Scum. Not worthy.

The parts she had assembled separated. This was intentional. Her annoyance was coloring her control, and she would not risk her crystal.

It does not matter. There is a reason the Republic is being chased around the Galaxy while we only grow in strength. He is not one of mine. I will protect mine. This is what matters. He is a resource only. Use him and then let him be on his way.

Exhaling through her nose, she began again. Quicker this time. While calm, she was now more focused, alert. Pieces circled, clicking together.

What was her blade for? A tool. To protect her su'si ercio. Part of her mind noted the loaded options he presented her. Defend the weak.. or else you were crushing things like a tyrant or just showing off. Still, her attention was no longer on him. His barbs were ignored as pieces continued to click into place.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

In truth, Cyril did not care. He did not care about what Chiasa spent her time with. He did not care about what she stood for, why she did what she did, or who she felt she served. None of it mattered, because she'd constructed her blade despite his distractions, and truthfully Cyril was not so opinionated as to attack the woman verbally any further.

Whatever negative emotions she might have felt from him within the force were gone. The animosity, the disgust, the disdain, all replaced by a pool of calm. An unshakable island within the ocean that was the force, one that would continue to be undisturbed so long as Cyril wished it.

"Good. You've constructed the blade despite my distractions." He complemented, offering a small, pleased smile. "There will never be a weapon as much a part of you as your lightsaber. Maintain it. Use it well."

He pushed up to his feet. His own blade was in his hand within the blink of an eye, the thin silver hilt reflecting the faint evening light. "You dislike me don't you? Take it out on me. Show me why I should give you my respect, Chiasa."

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

She didn't trust this new calm. It was a lie. It may well be a lie he told himself rather than one he told her, but it was a lie all the same.

"I do not know you, I only know what I feel from you, and I cannot see much point in liking someone who dislikes me."

She corrected, shrugging slightly. What were the chances she would interact with him again beyond whatever Sylvanan orchestrated? Since he was not part of her life one way or the other, she didn't feel very strongly about him either way. Was she fond of him? No, but neither did she intend to exert the effort it required to actively dislike him.

"And don't be ridiculous. Obviously if the only respect you intend to have for me is going to be based off of how well I do the first time I try a new thing I'll not have much at all but-"

She rose with a grin and the well known snap-hiss of a lightsaber activating. Blade, orange and proud and maintaining it's shape, constructed correctly sprang to life.

"I do not care about your respect, son of man. You cannot stop or slow me down, and obviously our mutual friend has something you want or you'd not be here. Which means as long he courts the power I hold, he will send what aid I need to me. So."

She settled, the lightsaber felt alien in her hands, but her body moved to her ready stance, dominant foot back, body presented at an angle to minimize her profile.

"I need no respect. All I need is instruction."

And I will learn from what you don't tell me. From what you do and what you don't do. I will learn from everyone all the time, and let none of them see me for the threat I am, I care not.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Arrogance.

He saw it in her as he saw it in all Sith. She would live a short life. All people who expressed such traits, with such as quick rate of success did. Respect kept you alive. Respect gave you allies. Without it, you were worth nothing.

"You should try and gain respect with every person you meet. Otherwise you'll be surrounded by liars and thieves who seek only to take what you have." He intoned, knowing full well she wouldn't care.

"What you feel can be wrong as well. An illusion. It's not difficult to give off an aura in the force born of falsehood. Don't trust such feelings." He added, speaking only fact. The Cyan blade in his hand hummed as he set the power setting lower. He didn't want to harm the Twi'lek.

His first set of strokes were obvious. A variant of Shii-cho, the form all Jedi learned as children. He advertised which way his blade might go before he ever actually swung, right arm flexing as he wound the blade in a crosscut from right to left, then a counter-slice from right shoulder to left hip, and then a twisting off the blade to hold it backhand and close to his midriff for defense.

Chiasa would likely catch and parry all of these movements - if she paid attention.

[member="Chiasa Kritivaas"]

 

[Chiasa Kritivaas]

The Twi'lek laughed at that, honestly amused.

"Liars and thieves? I should hope so, I'd have poor criminals in my court if I was not."

It was less that she didn't care, and more that she'd accepted betrayals as a part of life by now. She brought people to her, took care of them, treated them well, did all that would be required to earn respect and still they turned eventually. It was as it was. There was no point in fussing about it. Besides, she couldn't change his mind any more than he could change hers.

"This could be so, but what are the chances that a person can lie convincingly with their aura, their words and their body?"

She had to trust someone. She chose herself.

Banter gave way to concentration as soon as he began his slow, careful attacks. She did not trust that they would stay careful, stay obvious. He seemed the sort to want to try and strike her down, to teach her a lesson in humility - that thought almost had her missing a block as her mind stumbled, searching for a memory, a connection that wasn't there. It was hard, getting used to missing patches of memory. Other than that one brief falter, her parries were clean, though in truth she was resisting the urge to simply back up. Closing and fighting with a stronger opponent was not in her nature unless forced.

She was also finding that it was harder to parry than she'd expected. Harder on the wrists certainly. Better to slide an opponents blade than meet it head on. Wristguards that acted as braces would not go amiss. Could this be done without limiting movement? Worth looking in to.

Considering she had no knowledge of lightsabers forms, hers wasn't actually bad, so far. She was watching him closely, and since he was broadcasting his moves for her, it was not that hard. Not for one who'd been trained as a dancer in any case. React to your partner, flow. Graceful, fluid movements. This came naturally.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]