Know Your Enemy, And Your Ally

Aryn Teth · Jan 5, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member='Srina Talon']

To say the process of developing a military alliance between four large galactic governments was slow and grueling would have been only the most ridiculous understatement. Three days thus far had passed since the delegates from the Confederacy, Coalition and Silver Jedi had arrived on Sullust, and finally it seemed that the four parties were coming close to putting their alliance to a final agreement. Still, the issue had been long and stressful, and these days Aryn had most often taking to relieving his stress by breaking something, and often subsequently fixing it.

Such had been Aryn's routine for the past few hours in the consulate's training room. He preferred it to the facilities he had for himself, if only due to the fact that it had a few specially programmed droids one could use as sparring partners in various combat styles. However, this evening Aryn had been struggling to really relieve any stress. He had worked through the routine long enough to learn the droid's patterns, and as time had gone on, he had the droid down and out for the count before he even broke a stress through most average routines, even taking on multiple droids at once had only been slightly more difficult.

Sighing as he stepped back and looked over the now-damaged droid he'd taken down once more, Aryn reached down and took a firm grip of the mechanical humanoid's neck, dragging it over to a nearby bench as he sat and began to work on resetting and fixing everything he had damaged. He made a careful note of each of the wounds he had caused to the mechanical sparring partner, noting what damage he had caused and carefully considering how to fix it all as he did so, falling into a kind of soothing meditation at least for a short while, taking him away from stress of negotiations which had taken his mind for the past few days. Enjoying the relative silence and isolation of the training room for now.

Srina Talon · Jan 6, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Training Facility]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

Mirrored eyes flickered over the cavernous skyline of Byllurun through crystalline transparisteel windows with a certain level of interest. She stood in the simple, yet sophisticated quarters that the Alliance had provided, clad in little more than a silken sleeping shift. Delicate fingers touched the cool barrier as she sighed gently, wondering, if the Sullust News Network would begin to cover anything but the recent invasions anytime soon. If she had an eyes for art, she would have considered the entirety of the city a masterpiece. All, save, for the spiraling Capital Tower.

It was the one thing that stood out. It was exquisite, especially from the view from the Consulate, but it definitely didn’t belong to its surroundings. Her internal body clock was off. She’d woken when she would have risen on Ryloth, not when the rest of Sullust returned to life, and it left her for lack of a better term, bored to death. She felt through the Force for her Master and could feel him finally resting in the suite across the hall, though unfortunately, it was fitful, despite the progress that had been made on a diplomatic level.

Srina could more than understand it. It was unimaginably terrifying to sleep in a place that was quite possibly a powder keg. Yet, the Sith Lord would need all of his faculties to argue for the sake of their faction, and so it became a necessity.

The young Echani left the window and picked up the datapad that had been left by her bedside. Pressing the button to wake it up, the white-haired apprentice nearly jumped when a series of lights sprung from the corners of her sleeping space, and a modestly dressed Twi’lek greeted her in the form of a hologram.

“Greetings, Lady Talon. What can I help you with today?”

Srina stared for a moment, familiar with interactive holograms, brilliantly clever tricks of light and programming, but rarely did she so one so expressive. The Galactic Alliance had certainly spared no expense in making sure that their political guests were taken care of. “Tell me more about Sullust.”

“Sullust is a barren, obsidian world of lava streams and turquoise lakes. Native fauna such as ash angels forage during the day and return to nest at night, while rockrenders and Drutash grub prowl much of the underground. Because of the planets highly toxic atmosphere, we Sullustans, live in technologically advanced subterranean cities that are highly regarded for their beauty—“

“Thank you. That’s enough.”, Srina interrupted what she suspected might have been an exceedingly long history lesson. She had learned all of this, and more, from the HoloNet. The small woman had simply been hoping for more perspective. Something that made this planet, this place, feel more rooted in reality. Despite the appearance of openness Byllurun had, it still wasn’t the same as being under an open sky and breathable air. “What of this complex? What areas do I have access to?”

“As an honored guest of the venerable Supreme Commander you may visit anything but west wing.”

“What is in the west wing?”

“It is forbidden.”

Srina frowned, but let it slide. Obviously, there would be places that the Galactic Alliance would keep separate from the Confederacy. Still…Being forbidden? That was a strong word. It made her curious, but not inquisitive enough to anger their host, not when they were so close to forging a true sense of cooperation and trust.

The hologram, shifted from foot to foot, as if somehow aware of Srina’s pin-point thoughts and began to ramble off other attractions that may interest a young lady. “There are lifts and shuttles that could bring you to the shopping district. The cosmeticians in Byllurun are famous for their innovative techniques and cruelty-free products. There is a cantina within the Consulate Lobby, casual meeting spaces, lounge areas, and there is our best-kept secret, the Soap Concierge. Each guest may sample and request their own personalized bars of soap.”

“Perhaps I could send for an attendant droid to bring you a painting kit? Many of our guests find that quite soothing. You could also venture to our tranquil solarium for a hot-stone treatment or massage. We also have a fitness center that contains a small indoor lake, sauna, and equipment to help keep you strong and healthy during your stay. There is even a training facility.”

The Echani perked up a little bit at the notion of an area set aside to train. She could have fallen asleep from the ridiculous things the AI Twi’lek was listing off for her—But this finally had her attention. “Training facility? Where is that?”

“Here, Lady Talon. Allow me to mark it for you on your datapad. Take it with you and I will be at your disposal.”

Srina nodded her head and found herself, for the first time, seeing a little bit of light beyond a constant state of tedium. It took some doing, but eventually, she found something suitable for physical exercise in the hidden cabinets of the room, and she headed in the direction the datapad indicated. Was it flattering or hair-raising that the GA had clothing stocked, for the most part, in her size? She chose a pair of black pants that tucked into soft dark boots. There was no heel to speak of, only a decent tread, and ankle support. On her torso, she wore the same thing she would have at home, a simple white cropped airtex top with cutouts. Her long hair was pulled back, for the most part, into braids and knots that would keep it out of her eyes.

Briefly, she stopped by her Master’s suite to ensure that he was still sleeping and hadn’t woken while she’d gotten ready. She left a handwritten note on the nightstand of her whereabouts so he wouldn’t worry. He would understand that she had trouble remaining idle. Darth Metus sawed logs for the entirety of her stay, completely oblivious to her presence, and she exited just as silently as she’d arrived.

When she made it to the training area, through rest of the fitness center, she was a little surprised to see that it looked relatively plain. It was also occupied by a slowly growing familiar presence. Aryn Teth seemed to be tinkering more with a droid, than anything else, and the little Echani stared for a moment before turning her focus to the expansive white, almost clinical looking, area. “Greetings, Supreme Commander.”, she spoke softly, her dual-toned voice honeyed, however, laced with a touch of steel. She was all beauty, all grace, as she stepped into the area and set a water bota down on an empty bench with her datapad.

Srina still wasn’t sure what to think of the dark-haired leader of the Galactic Alliance. He seemed polite. Though she couldn’t figure out whether he was merely a man, serving his people, or an upcoming politician vying for power and personal gain. As a general rule, she did not trust politicians, and she trusted those that immediately smiled even less. It did not lower her inhibitions, instead, it raised them tenfold, because she couldn’t help but wonder what it was that she didn’t see. Echani eyes missed nothing. To not see... It was troubling.

“Am I intruding? I can always return when the facilities are free if you wish it.”

Aryn Teth · Jan 6, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member='Srina Talon']

The training droids were frustratingly irritating in their construction. Repairing the droids had almost become just as much, if not more of an endeavour as actually engaging them in the first place. Mentally he noted that this must have been a mistake on someone's end, these droids were clearly designed to be broken on the regular in such combat simulations, and yet the needless complexity of their machination was infuriating. It was, in essence, like trying to open a box with no hinges or lid, one was better served by hacking at things with a blade and hoping for success than one really was going for any particularly subtle movements.

However, the difficulty of the droid to fix was by all accounts working very much in favour of Aryn's meditation. Carefully and methodically did his fingers shift over his tools, flicking over and under plates and between wires carefully to twist and adjust the circuitry and smaller parts which made up the interior of the droid. It was almost muscle-memory at this point, the droids had posed an interesting challenge the first few times he'd worked on them, but after the fourth or fifth time of disabling the droids he had become intimately knowledgeable of its inner workings, enough that he had already adjusted the droids to make them more challenging as opponents more than once.

Indeed, the Jedi had been so immersed in his moving meditation to not even hear the Echani woman until the sound of her voice gently brushed over his ears. Managing barely to avoid making the most subtle - yet grave of mistakes in his tinkering, he halted his movements and turned his gaze up towards the woman, offering a warm smile. It was not exactly the same smile that he had offered her numerous times before around the negotiating table, that had always carried a cold efficiency and official nature to it, but here, Aryn was far more at ease, feeling no necessity to perform or even to really meet the nature that his title often would suggest he held. His smile was as genuine as it could be, carrying with it the sincere and polite nature of a man who had clearly been starved for company.

"Please, Miss Talon, there's no need for such formality away from the negotiating table, you can just call me Aryn." He assured her with a chuckle, turning back to what he had been doing. "Truth be told, i'm still rather un-used to the title, I had only just started to get used to 'General'." His words were conversational, flowing easily as if they came without thinking, and in truth they did. Aryn's focus was entirely once more upon the droid, upon the last key movements that he required to fully set it into motion. As they were complete, he pulled his fingers and tools away and closed up the droid again, watching as its body contorted and stood up straight, still and ready for another simulation to begin as the man turned his gaze back over towards the Echani.

He seemed altogether unconcerned with her garb or her presence at all, altogether similarly dressed himself, though it was a vast contrast from his usual outfit. In his robes or flight suit, Aryn had in many cases appeared unassuming or traditional. It was easy to see why some such as Srina may have indeed viewed him as the same-old kind of political maneuvered that had inhabited his position time and time again. Yet here, away from the pretense of title and politics, he appeared as he most rarely did, as a normal man.

He chuckled somewhat at her next comment. It wasn't that there was anything inherently amusing or laughable in her words, in fact, the only amusement that Aryn felt in such a moment came from the reflection she had unintentionally cast. Since stepping up to his position it had become increasingly common for more and more people to insist upon asking his permission at all times of the day, for even the most mundane of cases. Though he could understand why, he could only find amusement in the fact that he had quite rapidly gone from a man of relative ill-repute and obscurity in the galaxy, now to someone who evidently was considered respectable.

"Of course not, you're welcome to utilize the facilities as much as you'd like. Truth be told, I would welcome the company. One can only smash sim-droids so many times alone before he'll go mad." He chuckled softly, moving to take up his bottle of water and take a long drink. He had been there for a number of hours, yet he seemed to be barely tired, his routine against the droids had become so common that it was more tedium than a real workout.

Srina Talon · Jan 7, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Training Facility]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

To be so lost in one’s thoughts, that they were entirely unaware of their physical surroundings, was a foreign concept to the Echani. The ever observant woman took in the delayed smile that the leader of the Galactic Alliance offered, noting the careful way he held his hands, before she responded in kind. Their expressions were different. The dark-haired man seemed warm, almost relaxed, versus being duty bound by the strings of decorum. Srina’s lips curved sweetly, imitating the graciousness of her host, but it did not touch gray eyes that lay still as stone.

The apprentice of Darth Metus appeared as a painting without color. A velvety black sky with no stars, no moon, and no sun. There was something off, something missing, but that absence of life and distraction gave way to precision and focus. Silver eyes flickered when the Jedi struck up a conversation as easily as one breathed. “If there is no need for it then you may also speak plainly. Srina will do just fine.”

He mentioned being unused to honorifics and titles and the Echani rolled the innocent confession around in her mind for a moment. She didn’t respond right away, and stepped onto the raised training mat, designed for sure footing and impact absorption, and raised her arms over her head to stretch. It had been a few days since the last time she’d felt like anything but a sea slug. Inactivity was the bane of her existence. She needed to move, needed to train, run, and fight, the very same way most organics needed sustenance and fluids. “You wear it well enough for someone unused to being the master of his domain.”

It made her question what he had been, once upon a time, before the Force swept him up and made him what he was. In some ways, she could relate. Every time Confederate soldiers or droids looked to her for commands or directions the small woman felt a menial sense of surprise. She had been a Seeker, part of the military on Eshan, for over half a decade. She was used to taking orders not giving them. She was an obedient daughter and a dedicated student. Srina had fought in the dead of night against Thyrsian raids shoulder to shoulder with the rest of her unit…She had killed, without thought, and rarely felt guilt.

Srina was not a Lady, not a noble, and certainly not a royal. It was hard to adjust to the sudden shift in perspective.

Slender fingers reached as high as they could for several moments before she bent in half to touch the floor. The Echani repeated the motion several times, before she balanced her feet hip-width apart, with her arms resting at her sides. She stepped forward with her left leg and lifted her right, bending her knee as she raised her right foot toward her left hip, with the inner ankle bent toward the ceiling. Srina held the top of her right foot with her left hand, gently pulling her entire right leg toward her chest. Standing one on one foot so long might have bothered some but the white-haired woman didn’t even seem to notice. When she released her right leg, she switched and began to stretch with the left.

By the time she finished that set, it also seemed that Aryn had completed repairing the training droid. Her eyes followed the less than smooth gait of the robot back to the Jedi that had fixed it. Dressed as he was, it made it difficult to reconcile this humble creature, with the man she had seen in a vision on Dagobah, ordering the Incandescent Truth to collide with another ship. That man was hailed as a hero.

Srina knew better. He, knew better.

The leader of the Alliance didn’t seem to have a problem with sharing the facilities, and Srina took it to heart, before continuing her stretches. He commented on fighting droids and the silvery woman frowned, briefly, before coming to stand on two feet again. “Do you always stop mid-session to fix what you break?”

The disruption in concentration and routine, for her, would become tiresome. Then again, she didn’t know the first thing about fixing droids, outside of the basic help manuals on the HoloNet. His chuckle filled her ears in the quiet room, and tried to remember if she’d heard it before, but quickly dismissed the quandary. It held no real bearing on the opinion of him she was trying to form. “I am not familiar with that.”

“Training exclusively with droids… It would not be useful, for me.”, she clarified quietly, looking at the droid a little dismissively, before turning her gaze back to Aryn Teth. Of course, she had done it before, but she had long since gotten used to morning sessions with Darth Metus or Er’in Tenel. “My Master typically joins me. Before that, on Eshan, there was never any need or want to fight a droid. There is always someone willing to spar. I…”

She trailed off, wondering perhaps, if she was speaking too much. It was unnerving that a pin drop could be heard loud and clear in this space. Though she spoke lightly, almost gently, her dulcet tones seemed to fill the air. “I could not stay in our rooms any longer. Listening to the Sullust News Network drone on and on…”

“That, my Jedi, is madness.”

Those who knew her best would recognize the bare humor beneath her wintry visage. He may or may not pick up on it. Graceful hands fell to her hips for a moment while she watched Aryn take a sip of water, trying to figure out, if he would be a good replacement opponent for her Master. The Sith Lord had treated her to many a training session, some that left her broken, bleeding, and barely conscious. It was highly productive. Every time she lost she learned something new. Every bruise, every broken bone, every strained muscle was a lesson with uncompromising value.

“I would ask you to join me…But as I am not officially your ally I fear that some of your Order would take our sparring as an act of Confederate aggression. I’d hate to start a war over simply trying to escape the monotony of day in and day out negotiations...”, Srina spoke after a long moment, her glacier expression breaking for just a moment, where a small smirk, genuine, lingered at the kiss of her mouth. She was mostly referring to those that belonged to the New Jedi Order. The Confederacy had come with terms of friendship. So far, they had been reduced to tolerance. It was not the terms they had hoped for. “Though, I suppose, since you are Aryn Teth in this moment and not solely the Supreme Commander…You could make an exception if it suits you.”

Her offer was two-pronged. The Echani was curious. Always. It was her weakness—Truth be told. She wanted to see what he would say, how he would react, and more importantly, she wanted to know how he moved. Soldiers held themselves differently than sniveling political puppets. The little Echani, seemingly delicate, though it couldn’t be further from the truth, wanted more than anything to see his spine. His grit. Determination and force of will were traits that poured out in combat, which was something that Srina understood better than spoken language.

She would learn more about Aryn in one session, versus everything she had gleaned over hours, days, of diplomatic discussion. Therein came the other aforementioned prong. Though this, if he was worth his salt, he would also learn about her.

Aryn Teth · Jan 7, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member='Srina Talon']

Through the force, Aryn could see in Srina a kind of silence. It was not an empty or hollow thing from things lacking, the force was evident within her and roiled and roared like a storm, no, there was nothing silent about that. It was certainly not that she herself was silent either. Though Aryn had spoken to Srina less than he had to many of the other delegates, she was certainly not a silent individual, when Srina spoke it was as though a hundred voices spoke with her, she carried with her conviction, assurance and all the confidence that her otherwise unassuming form might not have conveyed.

Rather, the silence which Aryn noticed most of all within Srina was more mystery than anything. He could feel her easily in the froce, as easily as he did many others with such power and potential, but so too could he feel her efforts to read him. It was subtle, and had he not already had the days and hours necessary to form even the basest of links with the Echani woman he would never have caught note of it, indeed it impressed Aryn with the subtlety that she carried herself with. He could almost not believe that this woman who carried herself so deliberately, with such subtle caution and assurance of all she did, was the apprentice of a Sith Lord.

He didn't reply as she commented on his title, preferring to avoid any potential prying into his past. Discussing his history was difficult for Aryn, even with those he trusted, and while he may have felt more comfortable around Srina now than he had the day she arrived, he certainly couldn't say that it was a real trust by any means. At her next query however, he gave a smile, shrugging his shoulders. "Fixing things is how I meditate, not exactly the most common way of doing it, but I find I can connect to the force with greater ease when my hands are busy." He explained with the subtle ease that came with explaining a concept multiple times, though regardless of monotony, the polite smile never left his face.

As Srina began to spoke again, Aryn turned his gaze towards her, granting the woman his full attention as she explained her own method of training. Sparring partners were something that Aryn had grown used to not having at close hand. Much of his own training had been in the wild reaches of the outer rim, far-flung from any civilized society or anyone worth sparring who wasn't already planning to kill you and sell your clothes for drinking money. Still, the Jedi had heard of Echani, and he was not unsurprised by the fact that she valued live partners over droids.

He let out another amused chuckle at her jest, it was subtle as all things were with Srina, but Aryn had learned to expect that, and so the humour was caught. "Come now, the dulset tones of SNN is fantastic as a sleeping aid, helps me ignore the lava flows outside my windows keeping me awake most nights that i'm here." He chuckled as he glanced out one of the windows of the room they were within. Outside, with the dark sky above, the lava flows themselves illuminated everything to a brightness almost akin to noon-day sun. In a way it was similar to his home, though on Coruscant he had grown much more used to the lights of the city and the gentle hum of speeders throughout the night, the near-deathly silence of Sullust by comparison was... Disquieting.

Aryn was somewhat taken aback by her offer to join him, and as he gently set down his bottle he curiously flicked his gaze over Srina for the first time. He was still curious of her, of her motives, her personality. In fact, there was little about Srina that Aryn was not curious about, things that could not be gleaned from any number of hours at a negotiating table, things that could only be understood most often through the force. But forming such connections took time even for Aryn, time, and proximity.

His smile curled up into a half-smirk at her words, and Aryn sent the droid off to its charging bay as he stepped onto the raised mats cautiously, rolling his shoulders somewhat as he prepared evidently for the exercise to come. "Oh i'm sure I can make an exception this once, don't worry - I won't call it Confederate Aggression unless you hit me too hard." He was unable to stop the casual wink before it surfaced but by the smirk and confident grin on his face, it didn't seem to bother the Jedi much at all as he watched Srina. She was the more experienced of the two in this regard, and the sparring session had been her request.

As such, it was only polite to allow her the first move.

Srina Talon · Jan 7, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Training Facility]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

It wasn’t until this very moment that Srina fully realized she wasn’t the only one observing. It came to her in a flash of insight and a rush of sweeping emotion. She’d expected some sort of intrigue, simply because of Echani lore and appearance, but she hadn’t expected the Supreme Commander to actually pay her any mind. She was merely an apprentice, just a student, and vastly outclassed in the ways of the Force by many others in the briefing rooms. When it came down to it she was just about as important as the Zeltron accessory that the ORC had tagging along to take notes.

Aryn seemed to expect her brevity, and in some ways, seemed to have detected her subtle sleuthing. Despite the sudden awareness, Srina would not stop, nor would she apologize. Her Master depended on her keen senses and instincts to keep monitoring the situation from a distance. She could remain objective and impartial, no matter what was said, where his emotions could occasionally lead him astray. Srina did not allow herself to feel enough to make that mistake. The lessons of her Elders were always with her.

‘Acknowledge your feelings. Witness it. Allow it. Release it. Do not become it.’

As a soldier and an apprentice, she followed it to the letter.

If she caught on that he was avoiding the subject of his past, she eloquently let it slide, and posed a new question. His lackadaisical shrug, smile, and response caused her nod slowly. His version of meditation vastly differed from her own, but at the same time, she could understand. When one sense was distracted or muted, such as touch, or sound, other senses such as sight, could flourish freely. It was a focusing technique derived from sensory deprivation. “I learned to meditate long before I knew what the Force was. On Eshan, my Clan calls these sensitivities gifts of the Goddess. I knew only what came naturally…”

“As far as the Force itself goes…I connect with it, much less, than it connects with me.”

That was an understatement. The little Echani did not spend much time communing with the invisible power that seemed to flow like water. Unless she was training, or specifically working on something with Darth Metus, she did her best not to abuse it lest it dull her natural senses. The Force itself, simply put, did not agree with her decision. When she ignored it, the strength of her Sight reminded her, vengefully, that it needed to be heard. Upon their hour of meeting her Master had been forced to redecorate the lobby of Verd Industries from top to bottom because innate telekinesis had blown it apart. Srina acknowledged the Force as a tool to be wielded.

It posed the question, from time to time, that the Force, if it could think, thought the same of her.

Aryn seemed to catch her less than enthused attitude with the Sullust News Network and likened it to a sleep aid. She swallowed a rather unladylike snort and instead let her eyes flicker to the lava flows outside the windows, not for the first time, caught by the innate natural beauty. Byllurun was many things, strange, dark, and technologically savvy—but none could ever call it ugly. Her voice was pleasing, light, and aristocratic when she spoke next. “Perish the thought. Whatever will I do without the latest on your ascension to the throne of the Galatic Alliance? My sleep will be forever uneasy.”

Her derision was crossed with that same, hard to see, touch of humor. It didn’t help that mirrored eyes remained solid and quiet, reflecting, instead of expressing. Still, if Aryn had caught it the first time, she had faith that he would be able to read between the lines. He was a little like her Master in some ways. Incredibly easy to make laugh, or chuckle, despite having very little comicality herself.

The air in the training facility seemed to change a little bit when the Supreme Commander began to size her up as a potential opponent. She could see and feel curiosity in him, just as easily as she could see a steady pulse beating in the side of his neck. Echani eyes, missed nothing. Before he spoke, she knew that he would accept her proposal, not from any real observation that she could explain, but a feeling. She simply knew. His half-smirk solidified the assumption. “Only this once? That feels a little shortsighted…”

“Unless you really do intend to lose your mind fighting pre-programmed robots.”, Srina returned softly, clasping her hands behind her back, almost child-like, while he readied himself by stepping onto the training matt. He winked in her direction and the ever proper woman separated her hands so that she could cross one arm over her stomach, while the other flourished out to the side. Moonlit hair fell over her shoulder in silken waves while she bowed respectfully. “You must explain the definition of too hard, my Jedi. I do not pull my punches.”

It seemed that he was waiting for her. Was ‘ladies first’ an actual concept where he came from? Or was he simply being polite? Srina was willing to bet that it was the latter, considering the smiler that rarely left him, but if possible, she suddenly appeared to cool by degrees. Gray eyes seemed to ice over and the pale smile that lingered at the kiss of her mouth was…Chilling. The beauty of her face did not match the deadness in her expression. Her mind would close, and her lithe form fell into a fighting stance appropriate for attacking someone larger and stronger.

As a general rule, making the first move was usually a mistake that she left to her opponent. She didn’t yet sense an impending attack, so that left the burden of hitting first, and hard, on her shoulders. Aryn, much like Darth Metus, would be a combination of power and strength. Her only asset would be speed and experience. Knees slightly bent, feet staggered, and chin down she closed the distance between them faster than most eyes would be able to follow. Yet, she knew, that Aryn Teth was not most men.

A blur of white and black would lend the snap of a small fist aiming toward his face as she pushed off from her back foot. Her momentum was measured and her lead went no further than it should, to avoid giving the Jedi time to counter-strike. Weather she connected or not, she would abruptly spin to the side, and kick out at his left knee. His legs and eyes would be her first targets. Slowing him, blinding him, would be the easiest way to wear him down. Almost feline grace would make her hard to follow, with every punch she threw, every job she made, laden with intent.

Srina would not give him time to focus. Not in the beginning. Her attacks were basic, however dazzlingly fast, but truly, she wanted to know where he stood. The only way to find out was to press him.

Aryn Teth · Jan 7, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member='Srina Talon']

Aryn didn't need to watch Srina's expressions in order to read the woman, in truth, unlike perhaps most gentlemen that would be in his situation, the last thing that Aryn was focused on in that moment was Srina herself. His focus remained inward, on that connection that he had managed to snare in even their first hour of meeting. He bolstered it, placing all the effort of his mind onto building it and drawing from it. It was a connection that would allow him to read her as well as he did himself, however he was still wholly untrained in the skill, and knew such an effort would take time. Time that was rapidly fading as Srina worked out her first move and made to close the distance between the two.

Further yet, Aryn was not a martial artist.

As the figure of the Echani moved to close the distance, Aryn split his mind in two. It was not an easy thing to do by any means, making any legitimate effort to do so had taken almost a full year of training, and in most cases the effort was still shoddy at best. While one half of his mind remained inward, bolstering and focusing upon the bond that he weaved like spider's web, the other focused directly on Srina herself, on her actions, as her fist flew forward towards his face.

Choosing to act second had worked in Aryn's favour, and not underestimating the otherwise unassuming woman had worked even more-so as the attack was made towards him. Bringing his right arm up, he caught her wrist perfectly against her own, ducking his head to the side in the same instance as he closed the distance further between them, forcing her arm past his head entirely as his shoulder met hers. Unfortunately, adding to the proximity only had made it impossible for Aryn to avoid the quick spin and attack from the woman which followed.

Dropped to a knee, Aryn couldn't stifle the sudden groan that escaped him as he rolled forward and away from her, shifting his body mid-roll to face back towards the Echani as he rose back to his feet. The aching pain in his pain was evident, but he ignored it as his mind formed back once more into a unified entity. All of his focus was once more upon the connection between them, latching on and drawing more and more as each second passed. Openly, he appeared to be simply taking the defensive, and his active attempts to link his mind with hers were beyond comprehension for most common force-users. Of course, just as she had observed of him, Srina Talon was not most women.

Yet progressively, his efforts did seem to have the most subtle of effects. Carefully did his grip and arms shift into more of a proper stance, something more akin to a boxer than that untrained street-fighter's gait he'd held before. Learning the arts from her exactly was difficult, and surely could not be completed after a single bout, but bits and pieces were remarkably easy to gather as the link between them grew and tightened.

Focusing intently upon Srina, Aryn's ever-present smile shifted into a confident, challenging smirk as his eyes narrowed and he carefully awaited yet another attack from her. He would remain on the defensive for some time as he focused upon their link, once he had satisfactorily developed it in his mind, and could better read her movements, then would be the moment to go properly onto the offensive. But such a moment had not arisen yet, and it would take time to get there. At the very least, he just hoped she wouldn't manage to take him down before he got there.

Srina Talon · Jan 8, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Training Facility]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

The sound of Aryn Teth blocking her first strike echoed in the room, bones nearly vibrating from the force of it. As soon as her arm started to go too far and the transferred momentum carried her out of balance the young woman spun on her heel to regain equilibrium and take a shot at the man’s exposed knee. She barely watched as he bent to one knee, before allowing him to roll away from her, silvery eyes focused intently like some bird of prey. In a real fight, she would have stepped behind him, placed hands to his head, chin, and manually twisted his neck with a tremendous amount of force, speed, and technique. After the quick jerk, an audible snap would follow, which would signal that catastrophic damage had been done to his vertebrae. He would fall. Paralyzed, or dead.

To that end Srina let him go. Her goals did not involve either of them winding up deceased. Regardless the moment of charity, of which he would likely never know, her reactions remained calculating and unfeeling. He would be mistaken if he assumed she would react to his pain.

Pain, after all, was the greatest teacher.

He came back to his feet and mercurial eyes narrowed. Clumsy. This was not the fight she had expected. Why was it so one-sided? Why did he not attack? If she wanted to hit a heavy bag she would have found one full of sand, not squishy, breakable bones and fluids. Srina moved slowly and began to circle the dark-haired human like a tigress on the hunt. What was it that she did not see? Why would he step into the figurative ring with her if he did not have the skill to keep her from breaking his neck?

When she came at him again, her svelte form little more than a displacement of air, he seemed more prepared. She rained down a flurry of blows on him, one after the other, that he seemed able to either dodge or guard against more easily. She had never timed her strikes, but she could typically count them by heartbeats. His smile changed. His demeanor became new. Confidence that did not befit the near novice Commander that she had begun to fight gave her reason to be wary.

…What game was he playing?

Srina breathed, in through her nose, out through her mouth. She did not play games. It offended her that he thought to do so, whether they were in his house, on his planet, or anywhere else. The Echani soldier slammed her hands together on either side of his head, a double blow to the ears, and pulled back to punch him with the flat of her knuckles in the sternum. Her strength seemed slight, but it would not feel that way, when her might nailed him in the chest. He would likely wheeze, find it hard to breathe, and possibly wonder how such a delicate creature could hit so karking hard. She would step under and inside arms that sought to defend and shoot an elbow upward into his abdomen, still focusing his center, before abruptly rolling into a palm heel strike to the groin.

While that may or may not hit, Srina never stopped moving, and never gave her opponent time to breathe or recover. It was not in her nature to give quarter and she would not do so now. Her elbow rose again, swift as a blade, this time aiming for the soft tissue beneath his chin. The boxer’s stance that he had taken may save him from the disorienting effects of his neck snapping back, but it would make it difficult to anticipate her change in positioning. She would spin away, before turning back in, attacking from a new angle, in which her hand would arc down into another palm heel geared toward the bridge of his nose.

There were no wind ups, no wasted motion; each movement was specifically designed to roll naturally into the next.

On the defensive, Aryn would have been forced to move quickly in one direction, then another, almost in rhythm to the opposite lines of each attack. Her primary strategy was to attack as the aggressor, in multiple ways, so that he would have difficulty mustering his composure enough to counter-attack. It also forced her body to lurch into the next strike head-on. Each stroke would roll into one another in such a way that would eventually create a tumbling effect. It would appear as one, simultaneous tornado of movement, a show of blinding speed, and years of training.

When he evaded one of the final, most punishing strikes, Srina finally noticed something new. Aryn Teth did not appear to be gaining skill and confidence as they fought. He WAS gaining skill. She recognized the way he blocked, rose his guard, and stepped erratically to try and throw her off balance. He was fighting with her style, however, lacking the inherent Echani grace to properly execute. She could also feel something foreign within the confines of her mind. It was barely noticeable, a faint tug, but she could feel it all the same.

Silver eyes went flat. Storm clouds rolled in her iris. Aryn should feel flattered. It was not easy to rile or bring fire to the apprentice of Darth Metus, but somehow, he had managed it. Better men had tried and failed. Srina flipped backward several paces, hands over feet, before landing neatly. Having the distance she needed she ran toward him, launched herself into the air and grasped his shoulders, swinging her body around him in a half circle. Her left leg rose up and came down hard on the back of his neck while her momentum and body weight forced him to lean toward the side. From there she trapped one of his arms with her own and her right leg hooked around his opposite leg as she forced his head down.

None of her touched the ground, her body wrapped around his like a serpent, and she remained elevated while placing all of the weight and the burden of standing on Aryn. It was a submission hold of the most torturous kind, which took advantage of her small size, by grape-vining his leg, wrapping her free leg around his neck, and led to the final, painful result of yanking back mercilessly on his arm.

She would overstretch his pectoral muscle to an agonizing degree, hyperextend ligaments, and tendons to the breaking point. It would be hell to try and remove her while she kept his neck downwardly contorted and restricted his airflow. His free hand would be needed for balance, even if he tried to pry her away, and his midsection would feel like an accordion that had been crushed too close.

If he fell she would only lock the move in harder.

“What exactly do you think you’re doing in my head? I see you, Aryn Teth. I feel you. What have you done?”

Despite her quiet tone, there was a very viable threat, edged in steel. The pressure would increase when she realized she could feel him not only through the Force, but through a link akin to what she shared with Darth Metus. It was not the same, and yet, spindly threads existed, connecting them.

Srina had the misfortune of being traumatized, abused and tortured, by a mentalist not so long ago. He would not know her fear, nor her lingering pain, until her mind touched his. It was brief, nearly tender, compared to her extreme physical response. The words that flowed in his mind were just as poignant as her verbal speech.

‘What have you done to me?’

Aryn Teth · Jan 8, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member='Srina Talon']

Srina was a unique opponent, Aryn had not fought anyone quite like her as he watched her. As she came again, he blocked, parried and dodged under many of her blows, but each came with such speed and direction that he believed few would be able to match. Not even the Supreme Commander was capable of meeting all of her onslaught, occasional strikes forced their way past his guard, though unlike her first assault he showed no hint of pain or irritation as they broke past him. Srina was a wave, washing over him with speed and ferocity, but Aryn was a mountain, he did not move, and he did not break under any of her assaults.

Yet as frustration began to flow through the apprentice, Aryn felt it, with each passing second he felt her better, was drawn closer. However such frustration served to cloud his read on her actions. Unable to bring his arms up in time, he could not block her assault on his ears, the strike stunning him long enough for her strike to slam into his sternum. He did not stumble back so much as he slid across the mat slightly from the sheer force of the strike, the breath forced from him violently as he sought to regain his breath. The strike to his abdomen was dodged quickly, but her speed was unassailable, even had the man intended to go on the offensive, she was sure to give no opening for him to do so.

The elbow strike to his chin slammed his teeth together, but he did not move back, and forcing the pain from his mind, he reached up and did not only block her strike to his nose, but caught it perfectly, only to be forced into a release the second another of her strikes came. He was forced into focusing entirely upon his defense, his movements were constant and his mind a flurry of action as he shifted his arms and his body to dodge or block whatever he was able.

Yet as he continued to block and avoid her attacks, he noticed the shift in her mind. By now he did not merely sense it, he felt the change as if it were his own psyche, he didn't know where exactly her anger had come from, but he knew it was directed at him. It took time for him to put two and two together, time enough that he was too distracted to avoid her sudden efforts at bringing him to the ground. The movement was done with such grace and speed that Aryn could not have avoided it even at his utmost attentiveness, and as he was tangled up by Srina's effort, he was unable to do much more than drop to his knees and keep himself supported on his hands.

Then her words came, piercing and razor-edged as they were. It was not a tone or a threat he could have expected from Srina at any point, and he knew then that despite all his best efforts and assurances to the contrary, he had still underestimated her.

Yet Srina's threat also lit a torch in the recesses of Aryn's mind, understanding bloomed and burst to life in his mind as he forced away the pain, shutting it out of his mind entirely as he searched himself for that link that had grown between them. Aryn had made efforts to strengthen the connection, but with Aryn's still-limited training in such a complex technique, he knew that the majority of his link to her had developed on its own. It had developed faster than most did, something which Aryn found unique in and of itself, but analyzing the specifics was something that could wait.

Instead, he chose to focus upon her words. What he had done was difficult to explain, in a way it was something he could not have made any effort to prevent, it was his nature. One can not tell a river to cease its flow, nor a fire to cease burning, since to do so would require the fire to falter and die. Such was the same with Aryn. The Force echoing within him was much less of a song reaching out than it was a silence drawing things in. It was a pit, festering and dark beyond comprehension. It was something that only a few people had noticed and even fewer had understood, but what Aryn had done to Srina was far less of his own doing, than it was what he was.

A wound, gaping and festering beyond comprehension.

Aryn knew he could offer no words of comfort, and so he focused inward, on himself and on her. He felt fury, red hot and burning, but more than that he felt fear, fear and pain of the likes that he had not felt in anyone before. It was in that moment that Aryn did not simple know Srina, he understood her. Focusing on the force, he allowed it to replace his own efforts, keeping himself in his position as his hand once-supporting him reached up.

When it lay itself upon her knee at his throat, it was not forceful, there was no effort on the part of the man to break himself free, no effort to throw her off or plead for her to release him. It lay there with a calm and softness that could only have come from some place of genuine understanding. As his words came, they echoed that same understanding, spoken with a coolness that in any other situation would have been comical considering his position, yet they were meant for her in only the warmest and most comforting of capacities.

"I will not hurt you, Srina."

Srina Talon · Jan 9, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Training Facility]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

“Stop it, Aryn.”

Her voice was comprised of the most elegant steel, both achingly beautiful, and decidedly dangerous. It was layered with deliberate authority and a sense of finality that left a very distinct impression. She was unused to being disobeyed. Her words could slice the weak-willed to ribbons and bring the strongest of men to their knees. He would find out very quickly, and without pity, that he could not avoid the blaze that rolled from her being. He had begun this. He, had awoken her nigh invisible temper, and it rose within her like the tumultuous winds of a hurricane. Her Master, if he still slept, would either be impressed, or very, very concerned. “I said—Stop.”

Her limbs tightened around his, much like a vice, and the muscles in his upper chest would begin to scream. If she pulled any harder they would rip and tear. His shoulder would be yanked from its socket and unless he sought medical assistance, or knew how to reduce the joint himself, it would leave him with little more than dead weight. Aryn had already dropped down to his knees. If he didn’t use the Force—it was only a matter of time. Srina tried to snap down the mental blockades that her Master had helped her create, but it wasn’t enough, and she could feel spindle-like threads burrowing deeper.

Had the man gone deaf? The apprentice held the body stretch tightly, caught in a haze, blindsided by sentiment and a presence that was entirely foreign to her. She did not know this man. She did not want him within her, knowing her thoughts and dissecting her feelings. It was an invasion of every sense of the word. Yet, this supposed Jedi brushed past her apprehensions without care, as if he had a right to, and used not only her skill in combat but her force sensitivity against her.

The memory of her first visit to Coruscant welled within her. It was strong, vivid, and she could almost remember the scent of decay from the lower levels. In her mind’s eye, she could see herself walking through the Crimson Corridor, slipping from shadow, to shadow. A man followed. He had golden eyes. Were it not for the halo of black corruption that oozed from his every pore, one might have called him handsome, but there was nothing attractive about such a creature. He was like nothing she had ever felt. A dark, rolling cloud of power, filled with malevolence swept over her.

The proud, noble Echani warrior had been afraid, and with every reason to be. She had not known the safety and protection of Darth Metus until much later. By that point, the damage of Starvald had been done. In the dirty, gray, colorless underground of Coruscant she had been little more than a child trying to sit at the same table with the adults. She had not understood the Force. So when the Sith Lord, made of primordial dark, with a voice that chilled her bones, began to send innocent civilians to their doom unless she agreed to his demands… She broke. She caved, and the rest…The rest was too much.

Srina breathed deeply at the feeling of a hand on her knee. Just as she found his presence in her mind strange, so too, did she find the attempt to comfort her. The white-haired woman abruptly released his arm and untwined her body from his. She watched him warily, as if he were a Sarlacc trap, and mirrored eyes hid the things she did not say. Shaking the last vestiges of old fear from her body, she tried not let his words affect her, and stubbornly tried to ignore a sense of unwanted compassion. “Understand this—and hear me truly. Just because you have some access to my thoughts…To my pain…Does not mean that you know me.”

“For if you knew me at all, you would know, that this is wrong. Understand me, Aryn. I will hurt you.”

The slender woman came to stand, waiting with seemingly infinite patience, for him to undo the newfound awareness between them. In the meantime, he would find her constructing a wall that blocked him from her deepest secrets. Darth Metus was often in the halls of her mind, a frequent welcome visitor, and even he didn’t go that far. While this fight had begun on the physical plane, it soon delved into mental resistance as she shored her faculties. Her teeth ground together as her jaw tightened. It was difficult.

It was during the attempt to impede the Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance that Srina realized his foray into her subconscious wasn’t a one-way street. If she followed his progression, she could walk the line of it, and return the favor. It was also, during this time, that she realized what he had yet to say. Disbelief filled her and lavender lids slid shut over perceptive gray eyes. She swallowed before speaking, echoing tones breathy, almost strained. “You can’t stop it can you…”

The connection moved, surging, strengthening, with every breath she took. It could not pierce her core, out of sheer force of her own will, but she could not push back the tide. The roots were threaded deeply, and when her eyes opened, she was besotted with an expression that would be hard to discern. It was not remorse, no, nothing so plebian. It was wild. An inexplicable cross between burning rage and icy calm. The apprentice saw him as she had not seen him before. He seemed new, not remade, but completed. Srina felt as if she had only ever been looking at half of the pieces to his puzzle.

Now, she saw it all.

Silver eyes darted over the surface of his face. Like a moth to a blaze, she was hesitant, seeming inquisitive, but fearing the inevitable burn. Srina explored what Aryn had created from a very safe distance. She regarded him with the wariness one might regard being strapped to a bomb that was primed to explode. Everything within him seemed determined to prove her wrong, to prove that he meant her no ill will, but no matter the warmth he offered—The Echani was ultimately made of stone.

He could not melt her this way. Her eyes flickered as she breathed, tearing her gaze from him, toward the lava flows outside the window. The large and spacious training facility suddenly felt ten sizes too small. He stood between her and the exit and it left her feeling trapped. This connection was far more than she had bargained for when she’d requested a simple sparring session. “Why would you fight me if you knew this would happen? Is it always like this? So strong?”

Moreover, how did he keep from forming these deep, prying connections, with every Force user he came across? It was completely impractical. Impossible. Part of her suspected some sort of foul play. Up until the last few days, the GA and the CIS were not on, what some may call, friendly terms. Why would he encourage a Force Bond to form between them if not for some sort of political gain? Perhaps, he would not hurt her. Perhaps, he would not hurt her, so that he could use her to spy on her Master.

Her eyes closed again. This time, pained, at the implication. It did not seem to be a thing that a Jedi would do…But all was fair in love and war. She had heard of the misfortune of Mirial. Even the great, holy Jedi, made mistakes.

“You will explain yourself. Make it simple, or so help me, not even this alliance will save you.”

Aryn Teth · Jan 9, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member='Srina Talon']

Aryn had felt anger in his connections before, when he had faced down an enemy he had felt hatred and fury at his intrusion, but he had expected it from them. All those whom he had encountered that walked among his allies had never shown much irritation or regression from his connections, perhaps they did not understand it, or perhaps they welcomed the link for some benefit of their own or out of sheer ignorance. What he had never felt was what he now felt from Srina, yes there was anger, even so far as hatred for what he had done, but furthermore, he felt fear, a fear so real and strong that he did not understand it.

As his muscles were drawn out tighter, he fought the urge to let out a sharp groan of pain, focusing instead internally, on that connection which he had always used for guidance. He could feel as she tried to shut him out, to force her from the walkways of her mind that he had explored so openly within others. Questions echoed within his own mind, and understanding was lost to the Jedi as he was finally released from her grasp. Falling forward onto the floor, he rolled away enough to cough and push himself up off the ground onto his knees.

He heard as she spoke again, and her words echoed in his mind, they had sparked a line of questioning that had long been absent. What had he done?

The ability had come so naturally to Aryn, and questions had been asked of him before, on Thyferra, Caecus questioned him, noting the Sith origin of his abilities, the Supreme Leader had mocked his efforts to use it, but in his mind Aryn had always viewed that as mockery, attempts to unbalance him and distract the Jedi from his true aims. Efforts to make him question what he knew and stoke the conflict within him. But as Srina spoke he knew he could believe her, the connection had built enough that he understood it as clearly as ever.

They had not been trying to deceive him, they had been revealing the truth. How many more lies had he believed?

Aryn had not felt fear in so long as he could remember, it had been long past him and since he had last been a prisoner of the Empire, he had shut out the feeling whenever it had emerged. In that moment, all of the fear and sorrow that Aryn had held buried within himself for so long burst forth in a wave that washed over him. His face twisted and contorted into despair. His fear was overwhelming, it twisted and gripped at his heart with an icy cold that tore at the very foundations of his soul. It twisted and contorted into anger and fury, had those who said nothing known? Had they deliberately made efforts to keep him in the dark?

And how had Aryn been so foolish as to believe it so long? How had Aryn never truly questioned or understood, how had he been so foolish? Fear overwhelmed and surrounded the Jedi, but foremost in his mind was anger, anger with himself for his idiocy and his inability to understand, for all he had done, and most of all, his inability to stop all that he had done. He wished that he could have undone all that had happened in that moment, that he could sever his link to Srina, and his link to so many others. But he would continue to draw on them, to feel those connections and feed upon them until his death. He would never be free of it.

He heard her words, and they rang hollow in his mind. He could not explain it, all that had spread through his mind in those last few moments made him question everything that he had understood. He had no idea that even anything he could say would be true as he said it. Looking over at her, fear held his expression, and echoed in his words. "I didn't know..."

In that moment, he was what he had always been. Just a boy, in a wide, wide galaxy.

Srina Talon · Jan 10, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Training Facility]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

Her breath caught in her throat. Her chest felt tight. Her heart beat with abandon, like the wings of a trapped bird, fluttering against the cage of her chest. Little pinpricks of knowledge flared in her eyes, like miniature stars being born, but just as quickly, they died. She knew, and yet, she did not know. There was a veritable universe of emotion and fear flooding her being. It distinctly held the familiar flavor of dark matter but it didn’t belong to her or her Master. No, all of the negativity, all of the insecurity exuded from one Aryn Teth.

Somehow, someway, in the span of a broken heartbeat, the dark-haired man had become undone.

Srina was confused and entirely overwhelmed. She did not feel things the same way others did, perceiving sentiment as disorderly, and generally speaking, a nuisance. Pain was one of the few things she held value in, but that was only in regards to learning, with no respect for wallowing. This was different. She could feel a storm cloud brewing, rolling in with force, and with such ferocity that it left her feeling a little light headed. Nauseated. It was too much for any one person to bear and the heady cocktail of fear and anger seemed dead set on corroding the mental barriers she had defensively raised.

No. She would not let his pain become her burden. The straitlaced apprentice was too strong to be swept away by some ridiculous emotional tempest, not without putting up a fight, and she truly believed that Aryn was better than this. He had to be. Otherwise, what was the point of calling him a Jedi at all? Was he not one of the leaders of the largest group that advocated for the Light? What would the rest of his triumvirate do if they could see him, feel him as she did, in this moment?

In a way, she felt responsible. Srina had demanded that the man hear her, and from his almost horrifying response, he had. Perhaps, for the first time, he knew that his unconsciously parasitic use of the Force was extremely offensive. It was invasive, vulgar, and a breach of privacy and personal freedoms. He had risked everything encouraging a bond between them just to win their little duel. Or, to gain more skill. Power.

Those were the actions of a Sith. Not, a Jedi.

The bi-directional line of communication that lay firmly tethered was slowly answering the questions that she had asked. It explained, without words, his surprise, shock, and subsequent fear. She saw wild terror in his face, in his eyes, and knew without a shred of doubt that when he spoke he had uttered the truth. It was a moment of vulnerability, an expression of his youth, and relative inexperience. To reveal what he had to a potential enemy, especially during their current attempts at negotiation, was a folly beyond compare. Were Srina anyone else, any other Sith apprentice, she would have immediately used this newfound knowledge against him.

Instead, the cold hard facts merely chilled her. The Jedi in charge of the militaristic division of the Galactic Alliance could not control his abilities. Aryn Teth was not as rooted in the Light as he thought he was. It frightened him. He may have been able to fool himself, and his supporters, but he could not deceive her. This experience had left her with eyes wide open and the Echani held long, long memories…She would not forget.

Ever so slowly the apprentice uncrossed her arms and began to move toward Aryn, whom still remained low, weight settled on his knees. She was brought back to the teachings of her Master, to the memory of how he had pulled her from grief, by severing her from the pain of his passing. This was very similar. His mind was open to her, unguarded, and spilling fourth truth like a geyser. She would use her presence to provide succor, some modicum of comfort, the only way she knew how.

Were it anyone else…Were she not concerned with the state of her Vicelord’s treaty…Srina would have reacted very differently. A solid slap to the face had a good tendency of kicking idiocy right of out someone. If that didn’t work, a round house, or a throat punch was a good second. Something told her that this was not the correct approach for Aryn Teth. He was soft, for a Commander, and therefore delicacy was required. Srina exhaled slowly. Force, help her.

Soft hands reached for Aryn’s face, moving slowly, her touch exceedingly gentle, as one would regard a wounded animal. She touched the tops of his cheeks, palms pressing lightly against his feverish skin, before her right hand slipped down to angle his jaw so that he could see her eyes. Srina was small, even for a woman, and although he was resting on his knees the top of his head still rest just beneath the curve of her shoulders. “That’s enough, Aryn.”

Her voice had all but lost the threatening quality that it had held not long ago. Instead, it was honeyed, sweetened and airy. Coming from a culture that tended to break bones, versus talk things through, touch was the only way she knew of to soothe him. That was what worked for her, what kept her grounded, and let Darth Metus pull her back from the brink when she couldn’t do it on her own. “You must clear you mind and cleanse this darkness from your heart. I see it in you, burrowing deep, where it does not belong.”

The slender woman remained close, despite her apprehensions, and forced her inner-self to reflect complete and utter tranquility. Her core was unassailable, unmovable, and completely content in itself. She knew that her emotions were under her own control, and her mind, well within her own power. Silken fingertips reached up to brush ebony hair from his eyes while she waited, making sure that she had his full attention, before continuing forward.

“Breathe for me. Inhale through your nose and exhale through your mouth. Do it again.”, she instructed, ever careful in her words, making sure that she didn’t break the fragile bubble of stability that had descended. She projected strength and confidence. It would warm him and he would feel it just as strongly as she felt his fear. “You are of the Light. Anger has its place, as does fear, but in this area of your life it is a poison. You must purge it from your mind or else it will corrupt your better nature. You are Aryn Teth. All that you have done, all that you may do, is a symbol of hope for those that now fight beside you. You are more than flesh and blood. More than a man. You are the light by which your people find their way. If you are lost…What will become of them?”

Once again, she paused, letting the weight of her small speech sink in. There was no accusation in her tone, nor any sort of blame, or anger. They were past that point of pettiness and his frame of mind held the utmost importance. She would not let him fall apart. Whether it was the bond he had forged or otherwise…She simply could not let it happen.

“What’s done is done. All you can do is try to do better tomorrow than you did today. I may not like it, but for now this link between us is solid, so you might as well use it. Borrow my strength. Sense my calm. Feel my peace and accept the quiet. Take what you need and make it your own.”

Aryn Teth · Jan 10, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member='Srina Talon']

A chill ran down Aryn's spine as he sat on his knees, the change washed over him suddenly, pushing the fear and anger which had set in to the back of his mind as he felt it flow over with him. Just as his own feelings had washed over her as a raging tempest, her own emotions hit him like a wave of soothing, cold water. He felt as the sudden calm and her immense resolve wash over him, and in seconds the fear which had welled up within him, threatening to burst free from the prison he had kept it in, was locked back away, far out of sight.

For a moment, surprise and curiosity took over the Jedi, overpowering all of his other thoughts in that moment. He had always been able to influence others in his connections before, but never before had a link been so strong that the other party was able to influence him in any way. Aryn had never had a master before, mutual connections such as this one were entirely foreign to him, but the question for Aryn was not why had such a link developed between them, that had been doing, but considering the fact it was so much stronger than any he had built up before.

Just who was she?

He felt as her soft hands touched his shoulder, and for a moment he froze. The world froze around him. Gently was his chin tilted upwards and his gaze shifted to meet hers as honeyed words came forth from her lips. Aryn watched her with awe, but fear was flushed from his expression. There was none left, in a moment her words and the touch of her hand had cleared his mind of anything that ailed him. He stared up at her, following her instructions to the letter as he focused on his breathing, on her words.

None of what Srina said should have matched what she was in his mind, her master was a Sith Lord, yet she displayed the same compassion that he, a Jedi did. Though he had already forced himself to work against it, Aryn was already drawn back to the connection between them, reaching into it as he searched through her own feelings. It was in that moment as he walked the now open halls of her mind that Aryn understood he had always known what Srina was, but never who she was. She had worn a thousands masks and a thousand walls had barred him from seeing through to her true self, yet he had battered through each and every one like it was nothing.

He could see with greater clarity how he had hurt her so dearly, how his intrusion had come to be so unwelcome in her mind. it was not something he had expected to mete out upon her, and her strength was immense for how she was now reacting to his fear. His gaze focused upon hers, and upon the warmth in her voice and the comfort she offered. "I am sorry." He spoke firmly, with a depth of feeling that echoed between the two of them, moving on pure instinct as his hand shifted upwards to rest upon her own cheek for the briefest moment. "If I could stop it, I would." Sighing, he pulled the hand away and shook his head.

Looking to the ground, he focused inward once more, his fear had been pushed away, now he needed his own strength back. He could draw hers as she had said, but he was Aryn Teth, he was the Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance, one head of the Triumvirate, and Jedi Knight. He was his own and his strength was his own. Letting out a sigh, he forced out a laugh, as if there had been some joke the two of them had missed as he looked up at her.

"I think we can count this round in your favour."

Srina Talon · Jan 11, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Training Facility]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

The small Echani felt the anger and fear fade from the Jedi before her with the suddenness of daybreak. Fingers of light, of dawn, threaded their way through the deeply hidden cracks of his soul and washed the darkness away. Slowly, she sighed, relieved. Srina wasn’t sure why she felt so vehemently against this man turning to the abyss. It wasn’t as if she avoided the Dark Side herself, no, she had never fought against it, not even when it terrified her. Something about this development just felt wrong. It left her with a chill that heralded something she couldn’t see. Something dangerous.

He breathed, as she requested, and her soft touch remained along the side of his face. Sometimes, finding air, remembering that it as there, calmed the nerves likes nothing else. Anxiety tended to restrict the ability to oxygenate and for a humanoid that depended on it—unintentionally hyperventilating wouldn’t do him any favors. His expression became something new once he began to place his fear back where it belonged. She didn’t quite recognize it.

No one had ever looked at her like that save for Padawan Stephanie Swail of the Silver Jedi. Even then, this was not the same. His face was filled with…Wonderment. It was as if he had never seen her before, despite the fact that they’d been in one another’s presence for several days, and her fists had just made very close contact with his face. “What is it?”, she questioned, still a little uneasy, but curious all the same. It seemed to be a habit particular to those that frequented the Light Side of the force. Silver eyes flickered, running over the hard lines of Aryn’s face, noting the streak of gray in his hair that she had previously missed. “What is it that you see?”

She fell silent when the Jedi gave in and began to follow the pathway he’d created. Srina could feel him in ways she should not, his mental footsteps leaving prints, whereas the rest of her mind remained pristine. Refusing to tense, or show fear, she closed her eyes momentarily so as not to balk from the sensation. Having anyone else in the halls of her being aside from her Master was unnerving. Yet, she had promised him her calm, her peace, and this was the only way to make good. On his knees, Aryn found true understanding and began to see what he had done. “Now do you see?”, she breathed quietly, words whispered, like small silvery bells. There was a soft, barely noticeable echo of sadness within her, though she would not act on it. She was strong. But, not strong enough to cry. “My sense of self is all that matters. Without it… my thoughts, my experiences, my life…Who does it belong to? When you influence it, just by breathing, you contaminate those spaces. They are sacred. Mine.”

The fact that she allowed him in, even in his darkest hour, was a testament to her character. She offered this man shelter and a reprieve from what ailed him without asking for anything in return. When her eyes fluttered open, his sky blues met her own, fully, and she could see the apology building in him before the words passed his lips. “I know.”, Srina responded truthfully. It was the only reason he still had full use of his arm and the only reason she hadn’t mentally called for Darth Metus.

Her Master was protective. Someone entering her mind without permission, bringing her fear, or any sort of unnecessary anguish would more than likely mean that person was in for a world of hurt. She still wasn’t certain what reaction the sable-skinned man would have.

She had to stop herself from taking a step back when Aryn reached for her. It wasn’t as if she feared being physically injured but moreso the fact that the gesture held extreme intimacy. The Echani had placed her hands to his person in order to bring him back to reality. When rough fingers touched her cheek, it was different, because she was already there. She did not breathe until his hand fell away. She could not. He claimed that he would have stopped the bond from forming, if he could, and again, she believed him. It simply didn’t change the facts. What was done, was done. “Wishes are made for dreaming, my Jedi. Dreams do not come true.”

The tension and raw intensity of the moment faded to tolerable levels when Aryn seemed to find himself once again. He was strong, just as she was, it was simply a different kind of strength. His assets lay in compassion, in the light, whereas her gifts were decidedly a shade of grey. She was not yet as dark as some of the Sith, but in no way, did she fit the criteria for the Jedi. Both sides in her eyes could be extremely impractical. Darth Metus had found a way to live between the two worlds. As such, in the footsteps of her Master, so would she.

The white-haired woman paused when the Supreme Commander laughed and let her hands fall away. He was himself enough now that she felt comfortable giving him a little space. Though, she was a little confused about what he found such amusement in, and her head tilted in question. When he finally filled her in the Echani could feel a shred of humor pierce her wintry façade. Her voice was smooth as silk when she replied, that of a debutant, or an aristocrat versus a warrior. “You think? There was never really any doubt…”

“Aside for the fact that someone decided to cheat.”, she pointed out, lofting a singular, elegantly arched eyebrow. There wasn’t any malice in her tone despite her rather bland expression. Instead, she tried to bring herself above the level of this new Force Bond, trying to keep from drowning in everything he was. The connection she had with Darth Metus was innate, secure, and second nature. This was something else. Other, and entirely out of control. It felt like her Force Sight. Irrepressible.

Dangerous, and damaging. Without some sort of handle on it and no oversight…It was a wonder she hadn’t been killed.

“All that being said…”, she trailed off, arms crossing slowly over her chest as she rest her weight a little differently. She wasn’t sore, or tired, but they had more pressing concerns than play fighting. Besides, training with him had only made the connection stronger. “We need to do something about this. I doubt your Triumverate would enjoy knowing you’ve tethered yourself to me.”

“And my Master…My Master will not be pleased.”

Understatement. Srina had a way of wording things gently, diplomatically, but there was really no kindness that could cover that up. What bothered her more, was the slow, sinking sensation, as the bond settled. The thought of someone breaking the connection that she held with Darth Metus left a little pool of fear in the bottom of her stomach. He was her anchor, her lifeline, and one of the few people she actually knew cared for her wellbeing.

What would happen if the connection solidified? Would she miss Aryn, the same way she missed her Master when he was gone for too long? Would his thoughts, feelings, and opinions begin to color her judgment? Srina exhaled slowly, pushing away fear, and anxiety. It would not help.

“Why don’t we take a moment? Get a shower. Get dressed. Then we can meet and talk this through.”

Aryn Teth · Jan 11, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member='Srina Talon']

The question woke Aryn from his stupor, he didn't understand that he had been staring deep within her, his eyes searching her very soul. He couldn't have formed an answer to her if he had wished to, explaining with any degree of clarity what he had really seen when he stared up at her would have been impossible for him, he just couldn't fathom the words to bring anything forth, and so settled for silence. He watched closely as her gaze flicked over his own features, almost as if she was studying him as he had her, he took almost a strange comfort in it then, not daring to pull away until she did.

She continued to speak, to offer lessons, lessons which the Jedi understood and took dearly to heart. In moments it was explained to him in a way that it never had been, by someone whos understanding of it must have been fairly limited comparatively to many of the masters he had spoken to. But Srina had not needed a thousand texts and holocrons to teach him what he had needed to know most of all, she had known it. Srina had felt it herself and been able to tell him candidly, she had done what so many others had failed to do, to speak to him as a person, a peer. A friend.

He sighed then as he heard her comment once his hand fell from her face. It was laced with the same warmth that he had felt when his hand gently rested upon her cheek, and the words couldn't help but light a brief fire in his chest, forcing a smile to the man's face and bolstering the return of his own strength with spread through him, forcing the relaxed jest from his lips as he turned his gaze up towards her, unable to help but chuckle again as she replied towards him.

Slowly, Aryn moved to stand as he sighed, looking down at her once more. In their bout, and in the moments he'd sat before her on his knees, their difference in height really hadn't registered in the Jedi's mind, but it was certainly evident now as he looked down at the woman, offering her a gentle smile as he forced the still-lingering and harrowing thoughts and doubts to the back of his mind, they were no longer welcome, and he would make sure they did not bubble to the surface again.

As he stood, he focused on her connection for the first major time, on how it felt between them. It was not like the connections he'd had with others, they had always felt warm, or cold, and always somewhere he could draw strength from. Through her own will Srina had quickly grown accustomed to the link as well, it felt more complete than any other the Jedi had developed before, it felt... Equal.

And so when Srina spoke then, Aryn raised an eyebrow and watched her curiously, a twinge of disappointed confusion crossing his face as the corner of his lip dipped downward in a slight frown. "I'm not sure exactly what there is to be done, I honestly don't think I've ever even heard of a case of someone severing a bond like this before." Even in his study of the Exile, he had not heard of her own capability to break any such connection that she had formed. Yet, he was quickly silenced by Srina's sudden suggestion.

Sighing, he gave a nod and reached back, scratching at the back of his neck briefly as he nodded. "You'd be welcome to come to my quarters to discuss it once you've had time to get dressed, if you'd like? I'll permit you into the West Wing."

Srina Talon · Jan 13, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Training Facility]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

Whatever it was that the Jedi saw within her seemed to stun him to silence. Srina remained unwavering under the intense scrutiny, silver eyes stone cold, but perfectly clear. She was a very good at hiding everything she felt, down to the smallest grains of discomfort, and the pale soldier remained a pillar of brutal truths. The words she spoke were not based on opinion or simple speculation. It was fact. If Aryn Teth did not heed her warning he would find himself walking a path that would lead him to ruin. His place was here. His duty, here. He did not belong in the shadows.

The little Echani didn’t speak to frighten him further, or to bring additional discomfort, but to give him the information he desperately needed to know. The situation was different than the troubles she’d recently had with Darth Metus. He was a Sith Lord, intrinsically part of the Dark Side, and she understood that. Especially after the revelation of the hidden alchemical Forge beneath Ryloth. She accepted that her mentor, her friend, found immense strength in the darkness. She, in turn, accepted the fact that one day, through his teachings, she may also do the same.

Aryn had no such knowledge. He did not realize that use of the Force could occasionally come with a price. It was a dangerous game, especially, when he would not always be the one to pay it. He acted with the casual liberty and freedoms of a youngling. As if he didn’t know he was playing with fire at all… It was… Disconcerting.

Her teasing words caused him to respond, and she could literally watch the life return to him, burning brightly in blue eyes. She could feel…So much more than she should have. Srina could feel the warming effect that she had on him, the light returning, and the subsequent banishment of the seductive dark whims of the abyss. Some of the tightness faded from her chest. Not all of it, but some. He chuckled and she remained still, expression wrapped in silent, untouchable beauty. The sound was different. His Force Bond was so strong, so dense, that it made something so trivial as a laugh feel familiar. Special.

She spoke her thoughts about taking action against the metaphysical chain that now bound them and was a little surprised to feel disappointment flow from the Jedi. It ran like a wide river, sweeping over her insides, leaving her feeling him in places he didn’t belong. When would this stop? Settle? “You…Don’t want it broken?”, she questioned, both curious, and confused. What he had done was dangerous, not only to each other, but to the truce between their factions. “If the rest of the galaxy finds out you’re twined with a Sith Apprentice…”

“I don’t have the words, Aryn. They only barely tolerate our presence as it is. For all they know I could have seduced you, tainted you, during our stay.”

There was no fear in her when she explained her standpoint, only logic, secured with the notion that a good portion of the Galactic Alliance was full of light-minded zealots. Srina couldn’t imagine a world where their personal comforts outweighed that sort of risk. The thought severing the connection left a profane sensation in the deepest parts of her, but she ignored it, wholly, choosing instead to fall back on her training. Pain was temporary. She could imagine that as easy as it had been to form, that by proxy, it would be excruciating to remove. Especially, if he had never heard of such a thing being done. The agony could last a minute, an hour, a day, or a year but eventually it would subside.

Srina was beginning to feel a tension in her temples, and knew that the longer she dwelled on this, the more her head would ache. She was relieved that the Supreme Commander agreed to her suggestion of taking a breather and she nodded her head slowly when he suggested that she visit his rooms once she’d finished changing. That was good. Hopefully, they could figure this out. Hopefully, before her Master killed him. Silver eyes flickered over his form when she walked by him, footsteps barely audible in her grace. “I now understand why the West Wing is forbidden.”

Her words held a dual meaning as she exited. Aryn Teth was both important and very, very dangerous.

When Srina went back to her quarters it seemed that Darth Metus had already woken and begun his day. It seemed that he had gotten her note, otherwise, he likely would have kicked in the door to the training facility. It would be easy to assume that her temper had flared during her routine, considering her tendency to push the bar, however unusual. She wanted to be able to explain this on her terms. That meant, doing everything she could to rectify it, before they next spoke.

The helpful holo-Twi’lek helped guide her toward the West Wing when the Echani was ready. It took some time, considering, she had not packed much herself. Her Master’s attendant droids put her wardrobe together for diplomatic concerns. As such, there were times, when she was completely at a loss. Very little of it was something she would have chosen for herself, but when standing at the side of the Vicelord, one must emulate perfection. His droids loved to dress and style her as if she were their own doll. Srina allowed it, as long as they refrained from touching her weapons, or armor.

When she arrived at the entrance to the West Wing she was clad in white and gold, silken fabric hiding the white leggings she wore beneath. The golden plating that surrounded her neck, shoulders, and ribcage emulated armor. As if she were planning on going to war. Perhaps, she was. Long lengths of hair had been hastily braided back into one thick rope, neat, but simple. She mercifully wore flat footwear, and she was glad for it, else she would have been walking around Sullust barefoot more often than not.

The little holographic Twi’lek danced outside of the gilded doors and clasped her hands over her mouth. “You are vision, Lady Talon. Much better than this morning. I highly approve of the change.”, the green skinned AI gushed for a moment, clearly programmed to make small talk, something that Srina basically ignored. The program jumped as if startled, before smiling brightly. “Your credentials have been verified. You may enter now.”

The doors to the West Wing whooshed open and the Echani stepped inside, a little unprepared, for the vast lobby that greeted her. The area was well decorated, just like the rest of the Consulate, and filled with greenery and comfortable seating. Srina felt her brow rise, but stilled it, when her guide gestured that she sit down. “Please, be seated. The venerable Supreme Commander will be with you shortly. May I order a drink for you while you wait?”

Srina shook her head and the hologram pouted, before shrugging almost childishly, as she winked out of existence. The snow-kissed woman sighed. Where was he? He was close, she could feel him, simply not located where she needed him to be. Slowly, she took a seat on the round couch and prayed that her host did not take longer to shower and dress than she did.

Aryn Teth · Jan 13, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"]

Srina's words echoed in Aryn's mind along with the voices of a thousand delegates and generals he knew would question such a connection if ti were made public knowledge. It would be a scandal, certainly, at that was at the very least - some more zealous especially within the New Jedi Order could've taken efforts to remove Aryn from his position were the connection known of. Yet, Aryn found as always that he did not care. Scandals, and the squabbling of those who sought to gain Aryn's position for themselves, were never of great concern to the Supreme Commander. His removal would've required the approval of both other heads of the Triumvirate, and Aryn doubted that he couldn't sway them from such an idea if they ever did consider it.

Shaking his head at her cautious logic, Aryn shrugged his shoulders and kept his gaze carefully trained on her, speaking in the official manner he'd imparted in the conference room many times before for the first time since they had met privately. "The Confederacy are our allies, all of the Confederacy, and it's something even the most hesitant among the Alliance need to accept. If anything, let this be the trigger, let my trust in you with this link represent the trust of the Alliance as a whole." In his mind, it made perfect sense. There was little that Aryn could do through their connection that Srina could not do in turn, yes, perhaps his abilities made him naturally more capable of manipulating the links between him, but it was still an equal link overall, the trust that either one would be placing in the other in regards to their connection was mutual.

In a way, it was the perfect metaphor.

He allowed his own logic to settle with the apprentice as he watched her leave the room, almost certain that the topic would likely arise again, especially once her master was made aware. Darth Metus was not a man Aryn held any particular disdain for, the Supreme Commander was certainly not among the populations within the Alliance who shunned all form of darksiders, Aryn had met enough varied individuals in the dark places of the galaxy to know that all not had intentions of pure evil. Metus may have walked in the darkness, derived his power from passions and anger, but he was not a truly evil person in Aryn's eyes. Perhaps, just misguided.

Returning to the West Wing, it was only a few brief moments of discussion with a clerk and a number of raised eyebrows before Aryn had secured Srina's safe and comfortable passage to his chambers. Had the Supreme Commander considered at the time the way that his requests had sounded, he may have reconsidered his wording, but of course, he did not.

Aryn was still particularly unused to his quarters in Byllurun, often choosing to spend far more time in his own home on Coruscant, but he had been there long enough to know his way around them. His rooms were lavish, spacious, rich beyond necessity and accompanied by one of the finest views on all of Sullust. And of course, he hated them. The rooms were too big in Aryn's mind, he still grasped difficulty with which room was his sitting room and which was his reading room, considering the size if he lost anything it would undoubtedly remain hidden in a nook and cranny for the next decade, and most of all, they reminded him of home, of rich mansion and finery that the Jedi had all but forgotten.

The wardrobe which was provided by the attendants was never particularly to Aryn's liking either. Considering his positions, Aryn's wardrobes had been filled mostly with a variety of military uniforms, as well as a collection of different coloured and styled robes that would befit even the most pompous and pretentious of the New Jedi Order's many snobs. Aside from the comfortable mix of robes and flight suit that he had previously worn, there was only one outfit provided to the Supreme Commander that he enjoyed to any particular degree. It made him look far less like a Jedi, Pilot, or Military Officer than any other he owned, and had an almost regal manner to it which Aryn did not enjoy, but the way it allowed him to carry himself was what Aryn enjoyed most of all. It imparted the kind of image that Aryn had strived to meet since the day he had left Eriadu many years ago. A Protector.

Before long, a holographic Twi'lek figure appeared in the center of Aryn's coffee table, looking up to the Jedi with a polite smile. It flickered for a moment, and spoke in a distorted manner which had come from Aryn's own tinkering of the system and his efforts to remove the parts that he did not particularly enjoy or appreciate about the local official's programming. "Lady Talon has arrived, yoU oLd BaSTaRd." The distorted voice split his lips into a smile, and he gave the Twi'lek a nod as it disappeared, moving towards the doors which led out into the lobby.

When his gaze met the waiting Echani, he gave a warm smile, casting only the briefest of glances to her outfit, surprise briefly crossing his face as he had evidently not expected such a formal change from the woman, but it seemed to bother him little as he watched her. "Come, we can talk in the sitting room, and i'll get a drink or two, or some food, if you're hungry?" He queried, only then considering the time, and the fact that he had not yet had any breakfast.

Srina Talon · Jan 14, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Aryn's Quarters-West Wing]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

The Sith Apprentice sat in silence. Wrapped in stillness and touched with a hint of old world loveliness the young woman almost seemed to blend in with the décor. She barely breathed, her ever action controlled, steady and refined. Some diplomatic guests, seasoned politicians and the like, might have been impatient with the Supreme Commander for the wait, but she wasn’t a stateswoman. She stood with chin held high at the side of the Vicelord because it was required of her, not because it was her chosen career path. Once upon a time, things might have been different, but that childhood reverie had long since passed.

Srina saw her world as it presently existed in order to maintain a healthy state of mind. She could not bring herself to mourn what she had lost over the past year for fear that she would never get out of bed each day. She was a warrior, an Echani Seeker, and a student to the ways of the Force. As such, she held patience seamlessly, content to live within her own mind. Up until today. Now, she could feel a foreign presence skimming the surface, constantly. Sometimes the Jedi started to slip between the cracks of her mental blockades…But she tried, both for his sake, and her own, to keep him out.

Aryn Teth’s words from the training area about their newfound Force Bond lingered in the forefront of thoughts. They were poignant. In a more tolerant faction, in a more tolerant society, his outlook would have been refreshing. As it stood, it was heresy. It was insolence combined with blasphemy.

If only. If only his views were reflected by the rest of his people.

Unfortunately, they were not.

Srina slowly seemed to come back to life when the well-dressed Jedi approached. She was aware of two women behind the sign in desk looking in their direction, but she paid them little mind, unsure of why they were giggling behind their hands. When she did turn toward them, simply because of the direction she was facing, her eyes were arctic and cold. There was a layer of steel in her gaze that caused both women to stop, immediately, and turn back to their assigned duties. “Your staff seem…Preoccupied. Have they never seen an Echani before?”

It was a common issue. Often, when she visited somewhere remote, she found herself beneath a rather taxing spotlight. Most of the galaxy saw ethereal splendor, poise, and grace bound within a pleasingly wrapped package. They would never know that by the standards of her people, she was no great beauty, merely an adequate warrior. She looked just like her sisters, just like her mother, and her mother before her. There was nothing exquisite about her, nothing unique, save for a case of incredibly unoriginal genetics.

Regardless, she let it go. Srina had larger concerns than a few curious secretaries.

Aryn bid that she follow him, politely offering food and drink, and the well-mannered woman let an empty pale smile cross her lips. It was gracious and demure, everything that a smile should be, though it failed to touch the halls of her eyes. “Lead the way.”, she responded quietly, the silken ivory material of her gown swirling silently about slender ankles when she moved. The gold metalwork that wrapped around her shoulders and neck glittered in the light, making her seem, if possible, all the more unreal. The Echani were creatures, near-humans, made of dreams and pseudo-science. Few knew the truth, that their warriors were true monsters, masquerading as citizens of an enlightened artistic planet. Everything about them was designed specifically to draw others in. Large eyes, unblemished skin, and achingly beautiful voices. It was almost comical. As if, they needed any such deception. Their enemies could not escape. By the time they realized they’d walked into the simplest of traps…It was already too late. Echani were killing machines. Srina was no different. “I am hungry…I suppose we discuss things over breakfast. As important as this is…There’s no sense in starving.”

It was efficient to do both things at the same time. Not to mention that the brain and body functioned more competently when adequately fueled. Besides, if he had meant to harm her he could have before, easily, with the Force. Srina felt delicately along the threads of invisible light that ran between them. They were barely there, made of gossamer and imagined stardust, but they existed. Strong. Stronger than any thread could ever hope to be. It felt unbreakable, in the same way she shared a bond with her Master, only slightly less consuming. Slightly.

Aryn’s sitting room was just as lavish as the lobby. Once again, she found herself surprised by the ostentatious presentation, but remembered that the Vicelord’s official suites were just as over the top. Darth Metus, before Sinner’s Well on Ryloth, had only maintained modest apartments on several planets, such as Coruscant. Through her connection to Aryn, she could guess his feelings on such finery, and a gentle laugh trilled through her. In was real, soft, and lilting like the chirruping of a small bird.

“You…You are more like my Master than most would think. Stubborn.”, Srina observed, making her way toward a nearby window, while the door snapped shut behind them. Elegant fingers wove in the curtains as she tugged the sheer fabric to the side, taking in the view of Byllurun from this angle, noting the differences in the cavernous skyline. The lava flows and turquoise lakes were almost cultured. Controlled, perhaps, to overlap and seem…Fantastical. The Sith Apprentice did not have the eye for art that her mother did, but, she was also far from blind. “I must admit…I do not know where to start…”

“This connection makes it difficult. It’s hard to tell where you end and I begin. It feels almost like a tree, with roots that have grown deep, threading their way through the soil.”

Her analogy was precise. Not only did the bond feel as if it had multiple facets, but she acknowledged, that removing it could not be done without damage. Just as uprooting a tree would disturb and damage the earth, so would attempting to uproot, and eliminate this connection. It was bound by the Force, to their very essence, to everything they were. Srina exhaled slowly, letting the curtains fall closed before silver eyes turned back to her host. “If we do nothing…There are several scenarios. In a perfect world, your Alliance will see the Confederacy for their strengths, not its darkness, and they will find acceptance. Yet…The world is not perfect. I fear, despite your views, that it will only bring danger to us both.”

Her eyes averted, brow creasing slightly when she realized one, singular, undeniable fact. As much as she had initially enjoyed sparring with him, the intention was training, not to deliberately cause him pain. Srina knew, beyond anything, that she did not want this man harmed.

The thought of being his undoing made her chest feel tight, all over again. Every time she found new understanding about Aryn Teth... It felt harder and harder to breathe.

Aryn Teth · Jan 15, 2018

Aryn Teth

Training Room - Diplomatic Consulate, Byllurun, Sullust, Sullust System, The Outer Rim Territories

Interacting With: [member="Srina Talon"]

Aryn hadn't noticed or paid the two women any mind upon his arrival, their giggles and scandalous glances completely lost on the altogether oblivious Jedi Knight until Srina spoke up in regards to them. When Aryn looked over towards the two, they had quickly gone back to their work, leaving Aryn much in the dark as to what they had actually done when he looked back towards her. "I'm unsure... I apologize if they bothered you." His tone was polite and his smile warm, foolish innocence beaming in his eyes as he watched her.

As she seemed to brush things off and insist that he led her along to his quarters, he simply gave a nod, glancing back over to the woman for half a moment before he pushed the thoughts from his mind and continued back towards his room. His own attire was far less decorated or beautiful than her own, it was plain and simple, rugged even with scuffs around the shoulders, elbows and wrists, rough around the edges and worn in, yet his attire maintained its particularly official, almost regal appearance. It was almost a perfect metaphor for the man who wore it, albeit an overwhelmingly unintentional one. As they entered the room, he smiled at her comment of breakfast and gave a sharp whistle to summon the Twi'lek again. "What can I get you, Aryn?"

"Two Gartro Omelettes and two cups of caf to go with it." He'd comment as he moved to take a seat on one of the lounges in the room, eyes following Srina as she moved over towards the window. His eyes only moved past her when she opened the window, his gaze staring out onto the open expanse of Sullust and the rest of Byllurun below them. Sullust had always had a strange sort of beauty to Aryn, a planet covered in fire and fury which still always held a kind of controlled calm, the cities, especially Byllurun, were stunning to behold, but the world still never felt like home to Aryn, few places did.

His attention was soon diverted back towards Srina as he heard the soft tone of her voice, leaning back on the couch as he watched her. So she still considered it unlikely that the Alliance would be so accepting of the Confederacy and certainly of their force bond. Aryn hoped that she was wrong, but the more he considered their situation he felt more inclined to agree with her. Yet, Aryn could feel a keen desire, a compulsion even not to give up their connection. Once again he focused on it, on all that flowed through her, not only her emotions, but all that was beneath the surface. He saw the force within her as it echoed and flowed with such an immense and raw power. He saw the faint hints of light that remained hidden and untapped, and he saw the darkness. As Aryn focused on their bond, he stared into the abyss, and the abyss stared back.

No, he'd not let it take him.

Aryn was thankful as a serving droid came into the room then with their breakfasts, distracting Aryn from what he could only have described as a brief and intense hunger for the connection between them. He could not explain where it had come from, having never felt such a thing before, but he quickly pushed it far, far from his mind where no eyes would see it, turning his gaze back to her as he took his breakfast to the dining table, sitting down and waiting for her to join him, forcing another smile as he watched Srina closely.

"Who said a little danger once in a while wasn't any fun?"

Srina Talon · Jan 19, 2018

Location: Diplomatic Consulate - Byllurun, Sullust [Aryn's Quarters-West Wing]
In the Company Of: [member="Aryn Teth"]

Srina had to force down a laugh when Aryn apologized for the behavior of his secretarial staff. The pale warrior did not miss the innocence in his eyes, the gentleness that rang in his soul, and it only reinforced that he belonged on a path of Light. The Supreme Commander of the Galactic Alliance was everything she was not. Warm. “You needn’t apologize…”

“I can disembowel a man faster than you can breathe, Aryn Teth. Gossiping women do not bother me.”

It would be entirely unclear if she was joking or serious. Nevertheless, she followed the dark-haired man through the elegant halls. Inquisitive eyes took everything in. From the placement of the entrances and the exits to potential eyes, or security systems, hidden in the molding in the corners of the ceiling. Surely, the GA would protect its precious military prince with all their might. Sullust was known for its technology, after all.

She didn’t see anything out of the ordinary, aside from the emitters for the little green AI, but even then…The seemingly delicate woman really didn’t trust it. She couldn’t. Up until a few weeks ago, this planet, this sector, was inhospitable enemy territory that would rather blow them out of the sky versus ask why they’d arrived in the first place. Aryn himself, felt genuine, but that didn’t mean that he was surrounded with like-minded people. After a few moments, she began to mentally chastise herself.

Darth Metus’s paranoia was getting to her, literally, seeping through their bond.

Aryn had no designs to harm her. None. She could feel that at least—and that silent assurance would have to be enough. For now.

Srina remained by the window while breakfast was ordered. Interesting, that he ordered for her, without checking to see if she even ate eggs at all. She also preferred tea, not caffa, but this wasn’t her home. It wasn’t polite to complain when being graciously taken care of. She remained taken by the view for a few moments, waiting for him to finish placing the order, before she stepped away to let the curtains slide closed.

Sullust was beautiful. “It’s not home though…Is it?”, her words were more of a soft statement versus a question, considering she could feel what he felt, and echoed the sentiments. This was no more a home to him than a rented starship. Strange, for a human. Most preferred being treated like Divinity and living in the lap of luxury versus anything that required any real effort. “I have not been to my home in a very long time.”

Eshan, that is. The planet was still in a state of chaos and she was still either…Overly welcome, or not welcome at all. Either way, she missed the tall white spires that touched the clouds, green as far as the eye could see, and seas so blue she could confuse which way was up. She missed her family. She missed having others close at hand who understood her with a glance, who knew her every thought, every happiness, and every heartache without ever speaking. The bonds that she held with Darth Metus and now Aryn Teth were close…

But it still wasn’t quite the same.

Her words about the removal of this connection, once again, seemed to have a profound effect.

He didn’t respond, not with words, but something within him surged forward. Srina actually took a step back, even though she knew, there was nothing physical to hide from. His presence struck her regardless of her apprehension and she felt her breath stolen. “Aryn…”, she whispered, feeling a sense of almost intense possession, before they were suddenly interrupted by a droid.

Breakfast. Right.

Srina pretended not to notice whatever it was that he’d done, though it left her uncertain, and in the very far-flung corners of her mind…Afraid. Darth Metus was a refined, controlled occurrence in her mind, whereas Aryn seemed to sweep through with the force of a storm. Slowly, as she made her way toward the table, she could feel his wants recede.

Srina wanted to tell Aryn to eat. Immediately. It was an old Echani adage…Feed one hunger, feed another. There was definitely something different. Something that she didn’t understand. She just couldn’t see it anymore. Instead, she cleared her throat, and picked up an apple from basket in the middle of the table. “This is not an appropriate level of danger, my Jedi.”

“If you would like to attack a base full of Yuuzhan Vong…I would call that enjoyable. Exciting, perhaps. They provide an adequate challenge. Risking the wrath of our people is significantly less entertaining.”

Know Your Enemy, And Your Ally

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