Objective: CIS Security [Off Duty]
Location: Qixi Festival
Time: Evening
Tags: [member="Aiden"]
Thoughts: "Candied Jogan. Yum."
Naedira’s eyes narrowed just slightly when she noticed that [member="Aiden"] was grinning in her direction. What was he
smiling at? Had she said something of amusement? It also seemed that his opinion on either the Exarch or the Vicelord was tainted. By what? She couldn’t say. The Knight had not been present on Kamino to catch the reference fully but she had most definitely heard whispers from her peers of the event.
Who hadn’t? The sight of something garish, midnight black, and fearsome pouring from the dainty right hand of the Vicelord wasn’t something easily swept under the radar.
To be honest, when viewed in context, it wasn’t much of a surprise. Naedira was keenly aware of the less than hidden protective nature that Darth Metus possessed with a singular purpose. After working with Srina Talon all this time, she would have had to have been blind, deaf, and dumb not to see it.
“I doubt very much that requested a Force Wraith possess her. The Vicelord responds as he sees fit with the information at hand.”
Her words were a fact. Simply stated, but
true nonetheless. Exarch Talon rarely asked for help in any venture. She railed against the measures that were taken to ensure her safety regularly, however, the Vicelord did not see things as his Apprentice did. From what she understood the white-haired woman had nearly died quite some time ago during an Invasion of Tatooine. It was before her time, but Darth Metus had become superstitious, and from her perspective, had been shielding the Echani ever since.
With or
without her permission.
“I watch. I listen, Minister. Never let her hear you refer to her as a tool.”
There were many things about that dynamic that she could enlighten Aiden on but it wasn’t her place. She also doubted that he actually cared. The tone he used was derisive and she knew she had likely already placed too much stock in the topic. Naedira knew what many did not and held her tongue. She did not yet know the Minister of War well enough to divulge secrets that could bring harm. He was a frustrating man. Typically, when she turned the topic back to Exarch Talon it stayed there. The corresponding party forgot she existed.
It was what she had been hoping for. Failure, in the extreme. Not only had he not taken the bait but he kept returning his focus to her person without hesitation. Naedira bit the inside of her cheek but held her tongue. Aiden knew, had to know, that she didn’t like it.
Still, despite her polite rejection of his touch, he persisted.
Why was he so interested in anything about her? Everything she was left her, by design, a fly on the wall. It was both perplexing and exasperating. He spoke of the Force, of power, and there was a well of hesitation in her chest. Naedira learned slowly. Once she picked something up, it became second nature, but it took time. She was not a prodigy nor did she see herself in any great light.
“That would be prudent.”, she murmured, when he mentioned not disturbing her plans,
“As it would be a breach of protocol for a soldier to deny their superior.”
“My record is clear. But just I would fight what the Force never asks for—so would I fight you.”
Naedira was a woman of conviction. She had been raised by a stubborn longstanding House on Naboo and there were lessons, the standpoint of having a backbone, which she would never forget. Despite the fact that she followed orders to the letter there wasn’t anyone who could make her do anything if she truly didn’t wish to. For now, the Confederate way aligned with her own needs. They governed her birth world, had taken in her cousin, and offered a way of life that suited her. Her gaze slipped from the Minister and instead focused on one of the many vendors that lined the streets. They weren’t all that far from the Wishing Tree. Aiden seemed to take her question about his distractions in stride.
Not that she expected anything else. He was blunt. As a hammer was to the head of a nail.
“I don’t require rest that easily. If you are where you wish to be—Stay.”
The Knight was silent as she listened to his explanation of the people he had not so subtly perused. She didn’t pause, or question, but accepted the information for what it was. She knew that [member="Caid Centurion"] was the Viceroy of Druckenwell. The devastatingly lovely flower on his arm was a mystery. Naedira made a mental note to have the identity of the woman flagged. Anyone that got close to Confederate Viceroyalty would find that the Knights generally knew far more than they should. It was nothing personal. Simply, the job. “
Her name?”
A beautiful mistress from a faraway world. It felt like a story she might tell a child before bed. Aiden changed the topic then, apologizing for his dalliance into his origins, and Naedira tilted her head curiously. After all of their conversation, this was what he chose to show contrition for? The lithe creature stepped to the side without warning and paused at a vendor selling candied jogan fruit on slender dowel rods. She traded the required amount of credits, taking two before she returned to Aiden.
Hand upraised she offered him one of the sweets, fully expecting him to take it before she continued walking.
“No story is the same. They can often share commonalities but we all hold different experiences. Tell me…”, Nae intoned, her voice a quiet velvet that disappeared easily into the masses. She was soft in her articulations by nature it seemed, and always, spoke just loudly enough to be heard.
“If it isn't an intrusion.”
The chocolate eyed women bit the candied jogan and enjoyed the sweet crunch. It had been a long time since she’d indulged in something so decadent, however, it had also been quite a while since she’d had a night off. It had been even longer since she’d spent time with anyone outside of an assignment or the training facilities on Geonosis. Sparring didn’t really leave much room for polite conversation, not, when they were trying to beat one another bloody.
