Perhaps Fate. Perhaps Bad Luck.

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Coruscant System;
Atmosphere.

The proud metals of a moaning Nubian class royal star ship came closer and closer to the red lined planet. Xenia's breathing had long since evened out into the controlled and mellow analysis of each and every holo projection in front of her. System diagnostic checks, landing information and permits, and bounty information. Bounty information which, to anyone with a proper understanding of things, would appear ludicrous and out of the question. Even so, the words were there, detailing pay and motive to have a specific female erased. Matsu, a powerful woman in the world of both lore and whispers, as well as business and more tangible power. In truth, Xenia had not much heard of the Sith, nor experienced their spectacular prowess. In fact, she knew of Sith as little more than religious persons and proud warriors-- the force was yet a mystery to her, and something she had not hardly begun to unwrap.

<<You have considered the danger in this of course, Lady Xenia?>>

For a good while, she payed no attention to the automated droid voice to her right hand side. An infiltration droid of the highest quality, of that she was sure, and one possessing a more custom codex design. Already her companies droids excelled in AI configuration, attempting to make her machines as life like as possible, but this droid had received her more personal touches. Although its voice-transmitter was no different than the rest, you could almost hear concern carrying sweetly through its tone. "I have no reason to fear, Detox. I have you with me." The was not amused by whatever humor she offered as a brush off, her focus obviously falling to whatever was directly in front of her. <<With all due respect, I am not meant for combat in the purest form, Xenia.>> She smiled, nodded to her droid, and almost mumbled "I'll be leading off with a greeting, Detox, not a punch. There is little reason for fighting-- even so, you'll need to be on your guard." The droid nodded to itself more than anything else, and once again honed its focus on the control boards before it.

Mid Rim;
Coruscant;
Residential Landing Pads.

Each mechanical bit opened and loosened without a hitch, dropping the landing gear and letting Xenia out onto the planet. It was not uncommon for first-time-visitors to be thrown off guard by the mere height of things. Her landing pad, only half as high-up as some of the larger buildings, was still far enough from the planet's natural floor so as to make it impossible to see there. The Nubian was a tight fit, the back rungs hanging off of the isolated, floating disc. "Arrange for a taxi-speeder-- I'll check in on our host." Detox took a moment, then nodded. Outside, it was a durasteel desert, the likes of which she had not visited in a long while. Something dramatic always seemed to befall her here, even when she was minding her manners.

Pulling her com-units to life, Xenia dialed in whatever was asked of her and sent out her call. Matsu was a powerful woman, by no means well hidden, and readily approachable from the stead of another well faring business. Although Curoscant no longer rolled out the red carpet to her as an Ambassador of Peace, Xenia was renowned as a respected visitor-- if not a controversial guest. Her more recent days were devoted to the creation of something more more than peace by diplomacy. Now, her goals shaped themselves into peace-by-force, though few knew so.

<<The Taxi will arrive shortly,>> Detox noted at 50% volume.

Xenia nodded, pressed in the last touch-screen-button, and waited as the dialing tone began. She had first grown curious of this woman with Kail's mention, stories which sounded so ridiculous to her. Bigger than life tales of magic and sorcery she would consider mostly false until proven otherwise. Though Xenia's interest was sparked when she saw the name begin to surface on bounty channels-- higher end channels she kept open for the information more than much else. Good bounties, asking for the woman to die, and for proof of it. She had, of course, looked into it, found that Matsu held her own enterprise. It then became a question of which could be more valuable to her-- a tough choice, naturally. Thoughts of her more recent past haunted her mind, reminding her of the name's mention-- 'Matsu.'

The image which appeared was not of a regal woman, instead, of a man. At first guess, he was someone who must have worked for the Sith woman, someone more fit for answering calls as they came. A secretary or security in some fashion or another, common place when regarding important individuals. Xenia's greeting was curt and quick, straight to the point. "-- She'll be waiting," was the last thing said from the other end, and the message faded away. She had granted herself entry. So far, nothing could have gone better, it was playing out so easily.

Exiting the Nubian, she was met with gentle gusts of wind which smelled of exhaust and other gases. Her light blue dress waved about in the oncoming wind, a series of silken garments and exotic skin exposures. Youthful, elegant, beautiful, and reminiscent of Naboo's zaney fashion. Her hair was decorated with rivers of braids and small metal cuffs, though her face remained widely unpainted. Darker strokes of lining bordered the tops of her striking-green eyes. One wrist supported a metal band, ornate with carvings and obviously expensive, while the other sported her own datapad, more of a decoration than utility tool. Various weapons, small though deadly, lined her body in areas which would not be easily detected-- even with equipment meant to do just so; though this was for self defense in the most dire of circumstances. Her attire alone would limit most evasive maneuvers. Much less combat, and against these oh-so-powerful Sith. The taxi pulled along side the landing pad, and quickly escorted her with her droid companion, the sleek mechanical frame buzzing to life in order to serve its purpose. Holo projectors which lined its body allowed it to take whatever image it wished, whirling into the form of a handsome human security detail. A royal guard, of sorts, though serving Xenia personally. To the naked eye, the droids appearance would be absolute. Even to most scanners and holo-cams. Matsu, according to her arrangements, would be awaiting their landing at the next docking bay.

<<You're clenching your hands, M'lady. Nerves?>>

"What's there to be nervous about, Detox?"

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

As of late she’d been getting more calls than usual. A woman like Matsu who worked for two separate galactic organizations and held a position in one of the most prominent technological corporations in the galaxy was busy on a normal day. But ever since a hit had been put on her she’d fielded dozens of requested meet-up’s that would only end in an attempt on her life. Some had even just come calling without the pretense of a meeting. However despite it all she was still standing.

She was honestly a little surprised, truth be told. When she’d gotten wind of the amount offered to take her life she’d found it a pittance, a desperate attempt to finish what the unnamed contractor could not see through herself. (For maybe the contractor hadn’t named herself, but Matsu knew who’d sent out the hit. She’d lured Lasedri in to her web, given her promises and played a part as well as she always did, only to turn around and use the woman as an experiment. She could still remember how satisfying it felt to choke her, to feel something in her neck slide and crack and break under her grip – the sounds of clicking and gasping as Lasedri tried to speak but couldn’t, clutching at her neck and begging as she managed to stumble from her ship.) Perhaps Matsu should have killed her. It would have saved her the current hassle of the bounty – one of two on her head, as it were – but she hadn’t seen a point. It would be much more fun to snap Lasedri’s neck when her hate for Matsu had festered, lingered long enough to become a singular desire. Because then it would hurt.

So when a Xenia Nastassia had called asking for a meeting – some pretense of business, a mention of a thriving corporation she ran – Matsu had half a mind to refuse her. But something had stayed her hand, convinced her to see the stranger, and she’d let her secretary make arrangements for a face-to-face in a week’s time.

Coruscant had been her home for a while, ever since the One Sith took the planet from under the Republic’s thumb. She enjoyed a home in one of its richest residences, a gift for her assistance in the defense of Alderaan’s reinvasion by the Jedi. But today she chose to meet Ms. Nastassia at the headquarters of Neuro-Saav’s Coruscant branch. The Sith Lord was by no means invisible to anyone digging even slightly to find her, true. But she had no intentions of making it even easier to find her private residence. Her spacious offices at the corporation’s arm would suffice.

The city was glittering in the afternoon sun as she waited under the eaves of the building to avoid the worst of the wind, anticipating the taxi’s arrival at any moment. Two tall, lean Atrisian women in full armor accompanied her, making themselves at home in the shadows. Matsu preferred women guards in all things – she found them to be infinitely more vicious than their male counterparts, thirsty for blood and determined to win. She was dressed in her usual elegant, sophisticated style though she’d forgone her penchant for long dresses in favor of a white dress belted at the waist, pearl earrings and a few silver accessories. She favored fashion over function only in circumstances which absolutely called for otherwise, as evidenced by the impossibly high heels adorning her feet.

She looked up as sound of the taxi’s repulsors echoed over the wind, stepping out from the shade to meet her ‘guest’ on the platform’s runway back to the building. Her guards hung back in the shadows, more a formality than function. Matsu could take care of herself.

As the woman exited the taxi Matsu looked her over and though almost immediately that in another life she and Ms. Nastassia might immediately have been friends based on her taste in clothing. (Artful.)

She let out a short wave of her power, so practiced and subtle it was very doubtful Xenia would feel a thing, especially since Matsu was only looking for immediate intention. She felt nothing untoward on the surface of her guest’s mind (thought that did not mean nothing was buried deeper where Matsu hadn’t bothered to look yet). But the handsome man beside her – there was nothing in a different sense there. Inorganic – there was no mind to read in a droid.

Turning her gaze back to her visitor she offered a small smile, one that genuinely reached up to her eyes as she offered her hand for a shake. (She is a good actress, playing her part to a T, sinking in to someone else’s skin.) “That’s an impressive droid you have there, Ms. Nastassia. You’ll have to tell me where you got it.” With that, she turned, falling in to step beside the woman. If she took off her heels she would be even shorter than her visitor than she was now but that was something she was used to – most humans in the Galaxy were taller than her.

The pair headed inside Neuro-Saav headquarters with Matsu's guards falling in to step behind them, an immaculately modern set-up that implied innovation and vitality with aesthetics and the sense of well-oiled machinery. Matsu directed their walk down a hallway flanked by wall on their left and floor-to-ceiling windows on their right looking over the birds-eye view of the city far, far, far below them. “So what brings you to our slice of Coruscant today? My secretary was woefully vague about your business,” she offered, turning once they’d reached the wide, heavy doors to her office and opening them to reveal a room startlingly warm and dark save for more of the floor-to-ceiling windows…a lair for a beast lined with furniture and artwork, wooden floors and thick carpets, with her desk fronted by two leather chairs on a raised portion farther inside. Her guards took up position outside as the doors closed behind Matsu and her guest.

[member="Xenia Nastassia "]​

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Curoscant;
Neuro-Saav Branch.

For the rest of the ride Xenia's jaws were pressed tight. That little bit of stage freight which occurs before each and every performance of this type. She had come out clean from so many, and yet it had all felt like a lucky break. Each and every time it had been too close. But as soon as she saw the esteemed Matsu, she knew the games would fair different here. Her natural charisma and advantage of wealth would be highly ineffective here. Now, there was the disadvantage of knowledge, tipped in her 'opponent's' favor; her possession and skill with the force was a skill Xenia knew nearly nothing about. Only that it existed and it was dangerous. Xenia wasted no time exiting the taxi and gracefully hopping onto the next platform while Detox remained behind to pay the tab. Her face looked mastered, calm, and casual. Ducking and raising her hand to shield from the glare of light from above, Xenia peered into the shadows and marked the others. Security. Oh, flattery.

“That’s an impressive droid you have there, Ms. Nastassia. You’ll have to tell me where you got it.”

"Ah, thanks, it's actually one of my own-- sort of a collector's addition, if you will."

Xenia paused and craned her neck so as to face the dark haired woman before her. Her eyes fell and then found their way back up, "well, their holo-projection units are designed to be impervious to the naked eye though I suppose I should expect a different kind of analysis from a Sith. Though I prefer a more familiar image, that's all." She felt as though her words weighed as so much more valuable here. That is to suggest, so many more things were 'restricted' or 'risky' things to say. From what she had heard of the Sith, they were motivated by violence, and wasted no time in their scheming-- yet this did not sound like so different a motivation than that of the common majority. Only that the Sith were perhaps more up front with their goals, while others hid behind justified morality and lied to themselves. It was clear that Matsu's estate was far greater than what Xenia had expected. The sheer pressure of wealth and success sapped from the architecture. Oiled components and well managed aesthetics. Xenia's eyes basked in it, forgetting about her own possessions and instead actively practicing jealousy.

“So what brings you to our slice of Coruscant today? My secretary was woefully vague about your business.”

"In truth, there are numerous reasons-- shall I call you Ms. Xiangu, then?"

Xenia wove back around to face the beautiful woman. Her appearance was intimidating, but she looked ill fit of a warrior's title. At least, by whatever standards Xenia had built up in personal experience. She was a smaller female, smooth skin and similarly combat-restrictive material as clothing. "I suppose I was motivated by business. Business on two fronts," Xenia's smile negated any strict formality she had just offered, and she wheeled around "Hmm, this doesn't look too far off from home," Xenia said in half jest, that same smile animating the tone in her voice. "I understand someone of your status must be busy, so I thank your admittance surely. It might also be a chance missed if I don't compliment your dress now, lady Xiangu. I'm here to talk about expansion; basically, I kinda wanna throw you a pitch," Xenia bowed her head slightly, and placed a few steps distance between the woman and herself.

"And then there's a more... personal matter."

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Matsu’s office smelled of earth, wood, something far more base and primal (blood, perhaps – and one could imagine the last person to sit within the confines of her spider’s web made square laid out in grotesquely artful fashion). She spent most of her time on this planet either here or within her private apartments and she’d seen fit to make it as comfortable and high-end as possible. In the grand scheme of things money meant little to her – but it was certainly nice.

Lowering herself on to one of the leather couches, she waved her right hand out in a gesture of ‘have a seat’. Perhaps if Xenia meant to discuss business her desk may have afforded a more professional aire but Matsu wanted to be comfortable, her cybernetic arm resting along the arm of the couch cradling her left side.

“Matsu will be just fine, if I can call you Xenia,” she answered as she crossed her legs, resting her chin on the back of her flat left hand, a beastly and yet somehow still delicate twining of durasteel and titanium tipped with claws. She watched the woman across from her with a predatory grace, rubbing two claws together as she listened to the forthcoming explanation. She hadn’t forgotten what this guest had mentioned – ‘I suppose I should expect a different kind of analysis from a Sith’. Her presence within the darker side of the Force was not something she advertised. Surely it wasn’t hidden by any stretch of the imagination, certainly not after her involvement in helping the One Sith defend their means. But it wasn’t on the surface. This woman had done some digging.

“Then let me take the same opportunity to compliment you as well. I don’t think I’d be remiss in guessing ‘home’ is Naboo. Billions of planets and yet one can pick your fashion out from a crowd with ease.” Her eyes tracked Xenia as she stepped, the sound of her heels on wood punctuating the otherwise atmosphere-controlled hush of the office. “And I should hope this pitch includes something about that droid. I’m all ears.”

The distance her guest put between the two of them wasn’t lost on her as she continued her speech. But this was where Matsu narrowed her eyes – personal was dangerous. Personal was hallowed ground for only those close to her and without association this woman was treading close to dangerous territory, and in the beast’s den no less. The incident that had given Matsu her cybernetic arm was the same incident that dictated her so called ‘ethics’, as thin as they were – she did not intrude on a mind unless she needed to. She’d been gifted with a natural knack for reading people and preferred to go there first, something of proof to herself that she didn’t need the Force despite her prodigious control.

But if Xenia gave her a reason Matsu would read everything she knew right out of her head.

“Personal…how so?”

[member="Xenia Nastassia "]​

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Curoscant;
Neuro-Saav Branch.

It was casual versus a strict formality, and Xenia was beginning to feel even her cut-loose personality strangle under the Sith's intimidation. With a soft grace, she cleared her throat, regained some regal composure and studied her own apparel. It was true, the likes of Nubian fashion was unlike most other sources. Intricate clothing, beautiful colors and flowing patterns. Even so, she was not to likened with most other Nubian nobles. As the daughter of Naboo's previous queen, some could call her a princess in jest-- though little more was as untrue. Never had she run a pampered life, and although she held herself upright, it was more due to her training as a warrior. At the proposal of names, Xenia nodded, a quaint and feminine smile accompanying her gesture. Friendly, and easily so.

"Xenia it is, then."

“Then let me take the same opportunity to compliment you as well. I don’t think I’d be remiss in guessing ‘home’ is Naboo. Billions of planets and yet one can pick your fashion out from a crowd with ease.”

"My thanks."

A tip of her head towards Matsu, then a kind look towards the droid who stood idly, closer to the room's corner than she. "I wear this dress at the suggestion of Detox, my droid here." Xenia's almost childlike enthusiasm animated her to the leather couch alongside her natural predator. Another, hardly noticeable swallow of whatever anxiety crept around her.

<<And you wear it beautifully, lady Xenia.>>

“And I should hope this pitch includes something about that droid. I’m all ears.”

"Hmm, no, not that droid in particular. That one's a, well, a work in progress-- are you familiar with Nastass-Tech... mm, native to Naboo. My father's company, actually, before my inheritance, specializing in models like... this."

It was clear that Xenia was excited about the droid's celebration, an artisan's admiration of his or her own work. Perhaps it was silly to inquire Matsu's knowledge of competing firms, however big or small, though she certainly meant no insult by it. Nastass-Tech by no means was small, and had actually garnered fame and fortune while under Xenia's recent tutelage. Even so, in comparison to this giant she felt small. "You know, what you're doing here-- your BioTech models, it's not at all unlike what's being spearheaded in my own offices. That is to suggest, it seems we're operating with similar core values in mind. Aesthetic value, and an organic take on otherwise cold metals," she motioned to the droid once more, and the guard's image offered her a curt grin. At first, the subtleties were a bit alarming, the human nature a droid took so easily. "A.I. creation, codex modeling, and a living touch-- seems to me we could paint quite a pretty picture together, Matsu, provided we share paint..."

<<... May I ask you what your official position is here, Matsu?>>

The droid did not move, only swung a hand smoothly in its question. Xenia's eyes pinned Matsu in place in expectation of her answer, bright green orbs which spun with strategy after strategy. For her, it could be likened to warfare though of a different sort. Just as she might be sure Matsu watched her every movement, she, in turn, studied the opposing female. Any crack in her sleek surface, any wavering fracture in her hidden self, anything the rogue princess could turn into her weapon. She had always been the underdog, she operated well as such. And she had decided to blatantly delay anything... personal.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

She let out a small hum of a laugh, humorless, a thing that didn’t seem to quite reach as far as it should to become real. The droid’s vocal modularity was near-perfect – smooth and baritone, pleasing to the ear. Truly, a work of art that without her affinity for detection of the mind – or lack thereof – would go completely unnoticed for what it was. “I’m familiar. Alas, Neuro-Saav is the brainchild of Jared Ovmar and therefore it’s been a struggle to integrate fashion as readily as Nastass-Tech. I admire the aesthetic.” Neuro-Saav was a giant supported by the patronage of thousands, including militaries begging for more of their biological enhancements for the living. Business was booming and she had no qualms discussing competitors.

The droid’s question was unexpected, though Matsu didn’t have a problem with droids that had cultivated more personality than their programming intended. She had a small droid that tended to her apartments who’s memory she would be loathe to wipe – they were so much funnier with ‘thoughts’. She considered how to explain, but this woman and her droid already knew she was Sith somehow (give up your secrets before I MAKE you…) so there was no sense in being coy.

“My Master created this company. He’s grown old and given it to younger hands. Not mine, though I was asked. I have no interest in running the enterprise entirely – I have other things I find more pressing – but I administrate over the Coruscant branch and represent the company galaxy-wide when needed. I suppose you could call me a Keeper.” Whether the terminology was familiar to the woman and droid in front of her she couldn’t be sure.

But she could sense the Force in the brunette, silent and unformed.

Matsu was not prone to fits of anger, did not fly in to incoherent rages as much of her kind were known for. She had learned a long time ago to lose control was to put your life in danger. Fear, anger, and pain were the easiest emotions to use to her advantage as a mentalist – another’s distraction was her ally. So despite the fact that perhaps the deliberate withholding of whatever ‘personal’ matters Xenia had mentioned once and then ignored, she did not get angry. She sat perfectly still, that same not-reaching-the-eyes smile curling over her lips before she reached out towards Xenia’s mind. At first her touch would feel nice, comforting, and then a metallic sheering sound, loud and painful and totally unwelcome…a thousand unpleasant sensations, the crawl of spider legs up a pant leg, snakes under leaves. It was a warning, just a light preview of what she was capable of and entirely more subtle than she had to be. After all, if she felt like it she could just read whatever it was right out of Xenia's head, tear her thoughts right out of her skull. But there was no need to punch when a light tap would suffice. “Now…you mentioned personal business. You’ll forgive me for being so eager, I’m sure. But I don’t know you, and it would appear you know something of me.”

[member="Xenia Nastassia "]​

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Curoscant;
Neuro-Saav Branch.

“Now… you mentioned personal business. You’ll forgive me for being so eager, I’m sure. But I don’t know you, and it would appear you know something of me.”

<<M'Lady, is everything alright...?>>

"Ye-- yes--"

It wasn't that fear didn't bore itself into uncomfortable places, and she had certainly never encountered anything alike at all. The feeling of her mind being grabbed and touched by the power of another. A disturbing realization which came with a head aching truth. She was in the lair of a Sith Lord the likes of which she had no idea. Her confident smiles were like those given by rabbit to lioness in the begging moments before death, though her face held no smile now. She couldn't be sure of what had just happened, she had nothing to compare it to. Like a dream, though all at once, bottled up and force fed. Was this the sorcery Kail spoke of, or some fowl trick he had fallen for? Accompanying a dry stint of silence, she looked cold ahead, eyes eventually falling on Matsu with a terror hidden deep within. Her momentary distaste was directed obviously, though only where blame naturally fell, and without overstepping her social boundaries. With two teeth clamping over the right-most-tip of her bottom lip, Xenia inhaled with the goal of speaking and motioned for her droid to drop its concern.

"... You seem eager to show me all your talents at once, Matsu..."

There was a certain feminine venom there, the kind rarely detected among men. Deciding against her seat, looking at the couch and choosing to roam the office instead, Xenia wrapped one hand's fingers around the other wrist, ringing it as if it hurt. Her skin felt thin and her head felt sick, as if it too was recovering from the intrusion. "Are you always so anxious at the mention of personal? If so, it's going to make these kinds of conversations much harder." Her right pointer finger flipped back and forth pointing first to her, then to the lord and back again, while her eyes seemed to lose their fire. The power which welled from within her seemed to burst forth in these moments. The moments where girl stands toe to toe with sith lord and speaks without any iota of consequence, a collected charisma no doubt years in the making. Without being able to understand what had just occurred to Xenia, Detox's holo-projected reactions were of minor shock, closely following the word trail of its master. Even now, Xenia paraded her power, curious eyes studying the woman in what might have been misbelief.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

When Matsu found her smile again it pulled her face tight. She’d been born with sharp cheekbones, a jaw that could cut diamonds, but Sith Magic was corrupting: every use had a price, twisting the user physically and increasingly depending on the amount of power called upon. Matsu was sparing, using her natural connection to the dark side only when necessary but even so it had taken its due – her features were demonic, high and sharp with dark eyes and cheeks that hollowed beneath an angular ridge of bone. It worked for her.

She drank of Xenia’s fear, letting it climb the ladder of her spine (hand-over-hand, using transverse process like fingerholds to reach her brain and sink in where it could, mud and blood and spit and disease and filth and hate sinking in where she could pick them apart and eat their marrow, leave skeletons scattered in the gossamer of her web). She specialized in two areas, mentalism and sorcery. She was an illusionist by trade, a master of making things that weren’t there seem real, of controlling other’s minds without lifting so much as a finger. Sure, she could raise the dead or conjure smoke demons to do her bidding. But her first love was mentalism.

She liked to watch people die through their eyes.
In this way she’d died hundreds of times over.
She knew how it felt to drown, burn, freeze, dissolve, starve, and simply…stop.
A sort of immortality in opening her eyes from another's closing.

What she’d just performed on Xenia was simple mentalism, no Sith magic, just the most simple of tricks – the proverbial tip of her iceberg. The rest of her resided deep within the sea – miles down, the ice ending where it was too dark to follow. “One talent of many,” she answered quietly, running a tongue over one of her fangs as she considered the small-pupil harshness of Xenia’s anxiety.

Weakness was the thing Matsu despised most, but the fear Xenia wasn’t feeling did not denote a lack of character. Consider fear. A biological response to dangerous situations, one would be hopelessly lost without it. For instance – suppose you expose a woman incapable of feeling fear to a room full of starving tuk’ata. A normal person would see what this room promised and turn tail, escape danger at all costs. But the woman who feels no fear enters, attempts to play with or placate with them...this woman dies. Fear is the key to self-preservation, and a respectable instinct.

Xenia’s replies denoted a sense of confidence, a feminine playfulness, that Matsu liked. It would be a shame to have to kill her if it came down to it. “Am I anxious at the thought of discussing something personal? No. Does a stranger coming to my door, calling me Sith and mentioning something personal make me curious? Yes. Since you seem to know about me I’m sure you’re aware there are those that would like to see me dead. I’m perfectly willing to sit here with you and discuss whatever it is you’d like.” She paused, glancing over at Detox for a moment and watching his concern for its master, speaking without taking her eyes off him. “But I don’t like games.” She slid her gaze back to Xenia.

[member="Xenia Nastassia "]​

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Curoscant;
Neuro-Saav Branch.

“One talent of many.”

"Mm."

Xenia's short smile was mired with glimpses of her combative personality, more of a micro-expression than anything else. Even so, Matsu had spoken her point and it had not gone unheard. Her body still felt as if stuck in slow motion, a paralysis brought on by Matsu's violating display of prowess. At a second attempt, the smile lasted longer and seemed more real than before, this time followed with a nodding head. The Sith's words painted their visit in such a plain light, without breaking any 'rules of engagement.' They were still well within the confines of civility, that is. She sounded suspicious, to the point, though unaffected. Here, in her own domain, this Sith could prod and poke anyone she pleased. To the extent she pleased, Xenia was sure. Her own defiance could be noted, the young brunette's eyes never once faltering of falling from the Sith's gaze. She feared no warrior, but this was something a bit different. Matsu's presence boasted of power, though not in a conventional sense.

“But I don’t like games.”

"As stated, I've come on two accounts, both of which are business--"

Turning, Xenia motioned in such a way to send ripples through the elegant fabric of her attire. Folds and blending lines of regal composure. The droid answered without making a noise, its human-like, projected eyes following Xenia and even tightening its lips when being called upon. As he neared, his cloak of persona began to fall into small torrents of static electricity. Energy no longer being used to cast an illusion of its own, now pittering out to reveal the metallic underside of a well constructed machine. Sleek gold and silver, a skeletal presence, graceful and silently traversing. Still intelligent eyes peered through mechanical fixtures, its whole frame stiffening in stopping just to the left of Xenia.

"But your point is well received. I came here to speak first for my company, and second for myself. If you would have it in reverse, I can oblige."

Once again looking to the droid, and Detox back at her, Xenia sighed a short exhale. "It seems I've come across something of a liability in this recent year," Xenia started, her eyes falling away from the Sith not out of weakness, but out of some almost-dramatic presentation of information. As she spoke, the droid seemed to take its cue, a shimmering glow covering the physical frame and illustrating another inorganic life. The man which took form now was nothing like the first. Before, there had been elegant clothing, well fit and handsome. This clothing was mostly shaded in browns, tatters and rips. Before, there had been a light, washed hair, now something much more dirty. A thick jaw, damaged beyond ordinary repair, scarred and ruled by unruly shaven hairs. Those eyes, piercing, like ice. Its body was neither thick nor thin, a mutual agreement between the two. Clumsy belts, vests, silly looking weapons, a button undone at the top of his apparently v-neck'd shirt.

"Kail Ragnar, I'm sure you know him. He certainly made it sound like you two had quite some history together."

Seeing him again, rigid and before her didn't feel right. Of course, she had seen this image many times. Even so, this one always felt too familiar. Falling back and behind the fake male, Xenia let her gaze come from behind an illuminated shoulder. The left shoulder. She wove there about until she could clearly see the man's more wounded side. The scars of his past. A past with this woman specifically.

"That said, he didn't make you sound this pretty."

Xenia, with a humorous giggle, gestured to all of Matsu at once with sprawled fingers. It was still the case that Xenia knew nothing about her company. Nothing about what kind of woman she really was, or the kinds of things she was capable of doing. Her girlish, competitive nature might have been lost on Matsu were she not so capable a social creature herself. Dismissing her own joke, she waved herself back around the droid's image and again cut the space between the two. With Matsu having taken her stand, they each merely remained present with each other, though there was certainly not an overwhelming sense of ease or relaxation to be had. To be clear, she felt more comfortable standing.

"I had him pinned to Tatooine for about eight months or so, just keeping an eye on him. Recently, about a month ago, he just... fell off my radar. I do not mean to discuss my personal life here, Matsu, nor the hardly public affairs of my company, but I do feel entitled to finding Kail once more. If he spoke of you as if in companionship, then I am tasked with following any leads provided. It then falls to convenient chance that I might find myself in your office."

Her confident smile meant one thing.

She was used to getting what she wanted.

Eventually...

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

The Light and the Dark had always existed. There was a time Jedi practiced a perfect balance between the two sides of the Force, worshipping Ashla and Bogan – the Light and the Dark – and calling themselves both warriors and pacifists at once by the gift of their tempered connection. But Bogan was, at some point down the road, declared too dangerous a path to dabble in, and was instead battled back to the pits of the universe – the Light Prevailing! From this came the Jedi Order as it was known, more or less, for centuries – a people fighting for the good of the Galaxy using the power they’d been granted.

But there would always be those who followed the Dark.

There were Jedi in those infant days of the order that refused to forget the power of the dark side, couldn’t live without its call. They turned to the dark to prove their friends wrong and all paid the price – one-hundred years of war (the Hundred Year Darkness), monstrous beasts born of sin pitted against Jedi speared and gutted on claws and on sabers that once claimed to fight for the innocent. But eventually those who’d fallen lost their battle, overwhelmed and underprepared against an Order determined in its dogma. Exiled, the remaining ‘Dark Jedi’ cast off in to the unknown to make their own way.

They found oceans of stars, planets uncharted…and people unknown.

The Sith had been a glorious people, isolated and unknown on their home planet, safe from the dogma of a monastic religion bent on fighting the Dark. A pureblood race, they possessed a direct connection to the darkside previously unheard of in any other being – a quality most interesting in the eyes of the fallen Jedi that came across their planet. They practiced an esoteric form of the Force rooted in magic, incantation, and ritual and raised horrible beasts to do their bidding. But they were primitive and weak-minded. The Fallen Jedi quickly took advantage of and enslaved them, convincing the Sith to fight for them, provide for them, and to teach them their arts. From this the Sith became known not as a species, but as a brotherhood founded on like-minded principle. They took the name of those directly connected to the darkside in their quest to become more deeply a part of it. They learned the creation of sithspawn. They learned to control minds. And a very, very select few learned the magic the Sith species practiced with such ease. Time passed, the Sith grew in number and power and moved out to conquer the Galaxy and the Jedi that they’d once called their brothers. The clash of sabers, the roar of beasts…and sorcerers perched above the field to rain hell down on those that would oppose a new world order.

Matsu was a marriage of the ancient and modern, a Sith sorceress deeply entrenched in all that her people had once been – zealots bent on the arcane and occult – and what they had become: calculated, cold, willing to form bonds of advantage or comfort.

Kail Ragnar had been advantage. He had been a man who’d once saved her from death on Skye, lifted her from her bloodspot in the snow and left her in a village without so much as a ‘goodbye’. She’d hunted him down thinking perhaps such a man would be useful, a good person to get a job done. Perhaps too sentimental if he was pulling lost girls out of the snow but Matsu was often of the opinion her tendency to bend minds had been an unconscious calling to anyone in the area. (Save me. Save me. You want to save me.) In the end he had been weak, weakness personified, a man that cried when she sent him away. It still made her SICK.

So when Detox’s holo shivered and shifted and turned in to Kail she stood straight up from her seat on the couch, her durasteel hand clenching unclenching clenching unclenching as her features hollowed and her eyes turned a brilliant, angry amber. He’d never done a thing to her but try and do as she asked. But he’d been a worm and his failure made her flare supernova with rage. She'd wanted him to be something.

She crossed the distance between the couch and the droid, coming to stand a foot away from the projection, narrowing her glowing eyes in study. The darkside drifted off her in waves, poisoning the air around her even as she found the wherewithal to laugh at the mention of how Kail must have spoken of her. “I’m sure he was nothing but accurate in his description of me,” she said quietly, her voice a sarcastic hiss. The lines of scar tissue patching a scruffy beard were foreign to her – he’d been kicked from her side even before he’d been ready to remove the brace that kept his delicately tethered jaw in place. What a mark she’d left on him…

Rolling her tongue against her cheek as she considered Xenia’s words she stepped away, pushing back whatever urge she had to pull Detox apart. After a moment she spoke up, though she didn’t stop pacing her office (like a black widow at the edge of her web, considering the wriggling at its center). “Why? Why do you want to find him? I know you endeavor not to speak of personal things and I will do you the courtesy of leaving whatever transpired between the two of you in your head despite my ability to take it.” She stopped behind the back, wrapping her fingers along its spine as she watched Xenia from over it, the amber almost gone from her eyes though it flashed anew for a moment with her question. “Why do you want to find someone that can offer you nothing? You must know you have the Force.”

[member="Xenia Nastassia "]​

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Curoscant;
Neuro-Saav Branch.

“Why? Why do you want to find him? I know you endeavor not to speak of personal things and I will do you the courtesy of leaving whatever transpired between the two of you in your head despite my ability to take it.”

As if just taking sight of danger, her eyes narrowed, though it was subtle enough. What did the Sith mean? Was she speaking of more magic, of her tricks and views? She had to bite her lip so as not to speak in counter-challenge, or at least some version of self defense; but she left no visible signs of such inward struggle. For the best, probably, she voted not to continue that line of conversation, very much conscious of her competitive nature-- even to a fault.

“Why do you want to find someone that can offer you nothing? You must know you have the Force.”

"I have the wh--? ... Sorry?"

She didn't laugh, but it was something close, more nervous than anything she'd exposed thus far. Probably the kind of thing she regretted doing as it happened, but was just as much a victim to reflexive behavior as the next human. Readjusting and clawing her composure back together, she attempted to speak-- though nothing came out, and she shut her mouth more quickly than it had opened.

"Whoa... okay... okay, so I was either totally wrong, or totally right about you two."

She spoke at normal volume, ducking her head from cover at first, then letting her eyes meet those of Matsu. Changed, reformed, recolored for that one everlasting moment. Thanks, I guess, is that even what you say to something like that? In her favor, the final smile she offered was a good one. Even in the face of something she could not quite justify with any scientific explanation. This woman wasn't like other women she knew, no, it was even beyond that. She was unlike any other person, of any gender or profession, any species or home world. But she was capable of handling it because she had to be. Over all, her shattered guard was strung together in a mere moment's time before she could once again stand strong.

Breathe, just continue what you were saying.

"S'funny, he got all gushy when speaking of you. That's actually rather exactly how I feel about him, though, didn't think you would use my own words. I wouldn't feel so easily entitled to his life if he weren't a liiiittle pathetic."

Xenia nodded her head towards Detox, a motion which it mirrored instantly before fading forms and re-taking its droid body. As if almost in challenge, its robotic sensor-nodes-- eyes, met Matsu's with a boastful nature. Part of its humanoid programming, a special thanks to Xenia, specifically. Unlike the organics in the room, a machine-pile of metal and computer chips was not savvy to a Sith's corrosive nature, so it had no problem facing Matsu as if she were any other woman. Without being asked to do so, Detox stepped backwards and allowed further conversation to resume without its presence, Xenia beginning her own curl around the room, stopping so as to pear over Matsu's desk. Papers, business, but nothing at all controversial. Most everything was neatly placed and orderly. A clean life style, not at all unlike her own.

"... In short, he has information we're no longer comfortable with him having. And he didn't ask nicely before he took that information in the first place. Beyond that, he's nearly killed me and my reputation-- and I can assure you, I strive to keep my own image within personal grasp. He's given it to enemies..."

She spun lies together with nimble fingers, lies she had told before.
When she looked back up and into Matsu's eyes, they bared a fire of their own kind.
When she asked the second time, there was less question in her tone.

"Do you know where he is, and if so, where."

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

She wasn’t the first person Matsu had ever known that was unaware of their connection to the Force. In today’s world it seemed people fell somewhere between the camp of the days of Obi-Wan Kenobi and the days of Luke Skywalker – the Force was there, but it was still a hokey religion to some, perhaps overhyped despite being little understood. Most who had it but didn’t know it chalked it up to amazingly good luck and a keen sense for situations, something Matsu assumed of Xenia. After all, everyone lived in their own heads. Maybe those with unused Force ability simply thought everyone could do the things they could. But she would let it lie for the moment.

Instead she felt the most unexpected smirk tilt the corners of her lips when Xenia intimated not only that Kail had ‘gushed’, but that she was seeking him because his life was what was owed her. Matsu assumed that was the only thing he might possibly have to bargain with – the man had little else to his name even then, she assumed the years hadn’t changed that. “You were right in the sense that there is history, but very little of it is pleasant. He saved my life once. In repayment I thought to give his life purpose. But…he was a disappointment,” she said with all the gravitas of a woman lamenting that her mascara had run out. (Oh well. I’ll buy a new one.)

She liked the streak of…entitlement to a man’s life she was observing in the woman standing across from her.

Coming back from around the couch she caught the look that the droid was giving her, astounded by the accuracy it was displaying. It could pass for human with the defiance it was displaying and Matsu gave it a smile back – something wolfish, something deceivingly charming though she was contemplating what it might look like if she kicked it through the window and let it go soaring to the streets so very, very far below. (His gears glinting in the Coruscant sun as his body ricocheted off a passing speeder bus, exploding in brilliant flashes of metal. A stuttering flash let her imagine its hologram projectors imitating Kail as it broke apart – and this was far messier.) However, it removed itself at a subtle hint from its master and Matsu turned her attention back to Xenia as she continued their dance around each other, drawing them to the breath in their footsteps when she sat back where she’d started.

She watched Xenia overlooking her desk, returning the challenge in the other woman’s gaze when she looked up and letting out the slightest whisper of a laugh at the tone of Xenia’s repetition. In truth Matsu never wanted to see Kail again and if he had any interest in continuing to live he wouldn’t want to see her. But…this woman…so much untapped potential. Matsu wondered if she didn’t have potential enough to barter with…

“I don’t know where he is. Frankly, I don’t care. However I have ways of finding his rat’s nest that I would be happy to offer. But first you’ll let me prove to you that you have the Force.” She spoke with confidence, no argument to be brooked that it couldn’t be that easy to find a man that wished to remain hidden, especially since Xenia had narrowed it down to one planet. Matsu owned a tuk’ata, a sithspawn that had known Kail. That creature alone could track him through the sands. (But she wants to turn Xenia, looking up at the brunette woman in the light from her home in the dark. Her face illuminated, eyes wide and dark as she smiled at the bottom of the ladder, beckoning Xenia downwards, a white face promising something the Light would never offer. Think of what you could be. Do you want to fly? Do you want to run out your time here with a brilliant bang, be supernova, pour heat and light and fusion in to stellar waves, a cascading symmetry, a cloud of stars expanding outwards in pinks and greens and blues and yellows and browns? And when your brilliance turns to black you will devour everything. Worlds will bend to your gravity and pray for safety on the other side of your existence.)

“Come,” she said softly, disarmingly, indicating a seat next to her on the couch. “Sit.”

[member="Xenia Nastassia"]​

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Curoscant;
Neuro-Saav Branch.

“I don’t know where he is. Frankly, I don’t care. However I have ways of finding his rat’s nest that I would be happy to offer. But first you’ll let me prove to you that you have the Force.”

Xenia had no natural response to counter this kind of situation. There was a moment of petty panic, hidden behind a stoic, still face, and then a short smile. But she didn't move, at least, not right away. Instead she eyed Matsu, a woman made tall by the shoes she wore, and now a woman preaching to her about the force. Surely she had not expected this, and it didn't quite feel comfortable. Before she actually took any steps or moved at all, she gave another smile of about the same duration. What choice did she have really but to take a seat, an odd price to pay for an odd service.

“Come,” she said, "sit."

"I'll sit, of course, but you'll forgive me for being skeptical of this... force inside me."

But she sat anyhow, a challenging yet friendly stare at Matsu, wide eyes analyzing each. "Nothing I've ever seen has made me believe in any," she paused, "invisible, all powerful force."

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

“I’ll forgive you,” she said as Xenia sat down, the light press of her weight on the couch the catalyst of Matsu’s stored power.

She’d been shoring it, building a foundation with which to envelop the room and Xenia since things had taken a decidedly more interesting turn. In truth Matsu worked in the company of her old Master simply because credits bought fine things and comfort. But if she had to choose between her high heels and the Force she would burn every single designer platform to hold on to her gift. This thing – this invisible, all-encompassing power – was everything. And she wanted Xenia to see. With the exception of the Epicanthix species, there were perhaps two mentalists in the entirety of the galaxy that could put up any real resistance to her intrusions. One was her old Master. And the other was dead. Xenia could fight Matsu but she would claw her way through each hastily constructed wall until she was at the meat, licking her lips before she devoured her whole.

The sound of Kail’s voice from behind her, a warning not to keep going – a warning she did not heed. The feeling of a moment of confusion, the sound of giant statues animating, coming to kill Matsu for touching an artifact they’d been tasked to guard for the foreseeable centuries. A horrible, blinding second of pain like it was her jaw cracking in splinters, her bone shattering and digging in to the skin that was the only thing holding it all together. (Because she’d watched, she’d punched through in to his head just to witness what it was to be crushed. She’d died a thousand times. She wanted it all.) But then Matsu conjured the image of his face. It had been so good to see him like that: disfigured and mangled, his face made of inhuman, jigsaw angles. Ruined.

His image faded like sweeping a hand through smoke, the picture drooling in Dali-esque smudges to coalesce in to something else…something less concrete. Emotions: triumph, lust, power, satisfaction. Wonder. Endless wonder. It was this aspect of the Force that she loved above all else. Infinity. Flashes of the things Matsu had done with an impossible power: raised armies of the undead, their whisper of their dry, dead skin floating through the memory; felt the resistance of a Jedi Master’s flesh under her hands as she shoved a knife through her ribs; destroyed entire cities, laid them to waste covered in gore beside Gabriel in the kind of partnership shared only through power and the absence of morality; explored a hellscape populated by impossible creatures, layers deep and created by an ancient Sith Lord to kill anyone who trespassed…and surviving; feeling someone’s bones crack under her fingertips, the gasping sound of death as someone suffocated from a simple move; practicing curses on foolish Jedi who thought to challenge her; the triumph of multiple wars.

And then the images she’d seen, the wars she’d known, melted to show Xenia instead – surrounded by hundreds of her droids, walkers, weapons abounding. Alongside all that she’d created she tore holes through Republic forces, hunted them through the shadows, dispatched prey…a hunter.

When she let go she was wearing a sated expression, as if she’d finally gotten a hit after being gone too long from some drug she loved. “The life you’re living now? It’s nothing compared to what you could be doing. What you’re capable of. I know you’ve seen no evidence and respect the imperative to see things with one’s own eyes. So…”

Nothing as simple as a telekinetic trick would get this woman thinking, Matsu already knew that. Lifting Detox off the ground would prove nothing but that she had access to some kind of gravitational manipulator. The visions could be blamed on drugs, though when Matsu could have slipped her some would be an interesting extrapolation. So instead Matsu turned her body slightly to look out one of the massive floor-to-ceiling windows, selecting a two-seater vehicle speeding by and lifting one hand as she stared at it. In a moment she had halted it mid-air to hover right in front of the window, the pilot looking a mixture of confused and enraged at the malfunction. Both emotions turned to fear – fuel for his tormentor – as the ship buckled in one loud, snapping creak when Matsu pinched her fingers together. When she was done, hand closed in a tight fist, the entire speeder have curled in to one giant ball of scrap metal with the driver crushed to pulp inside.

And she’d barely even tried.

[member="Xenia Nastassia"]​

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Curoscant;
Neuro-Saav Branch.

When the bone cracked, her jaw-- no his jaw, Kail's jaw, it felt real. Like her own bone was being crushed, and by such the concrete force of a stone fist. Like it was real, unmistakably, so clear and vivid. And it was over in a split second of lucidity, Xenia's eyes gaping at the woman opposite her before fading again to the visions of Matsu. Horrible things, terrible things. Impressive things. Powers which looked of fantasy, abilities which conjured forth the impossible. Literally untellable things, armies of the dead, demons of smoke. Battle fields, war grounds, burning; so much fire, and so much vicious passion. Although she was hardly aware of it, Xenia's breathing sped, her own adrenaline smoldering with that same heat, that same addictive, hectic adventure. But it wasn't until she saw herself, that image of her, a different her. Someone who had acquired her own armies, soldiers who never had lived; droids. Someone was commanded the same kind of presence as this, this sith.

“The life you’re living now? It’s nothing compared to what you could be doing. What you’re capable of. I know you’ve seen no evidence and respect the imperative to see things with one’s own eyes. So…”

When everything flashed, the visions, the feelings, all ending in one blatant second, Xenia choked for air. Fingers gripped the flat desk before her as if in attempt to regain her bearings, another shocking breath of air. This Matsu, she was so calm. Just looking on as she observed her effect on Xenia, powerless and completely bewildered. There was no way to explain it, no way to justify what had just happened, how she had just felt. The pain, real enough to cause a flinch. After that frantic second of mental reorganization, she yanked her hands back and coiled in sharp defense. Eyes like daggers befell Matsu, softened by sickness. Real sickness, like she would lose any food in her gut.

"What..." but a heaving breath paused her. "What in the-- what was..."

Apparently this wasn't enough, she actually pushed further. Xenia hardly caught on at first, not until she saw the air speeder freeze from motion. An unnatural paralysis, Matsu's hand gripping it from behind the transparisteel pane. What in the world was she doing!? Dents punched themselves into the speeder's underbelly, desh material bubbling as if being boiled, bending in on itself. Even from where she was there was the feint sound of screeching metal, and eventually it caved in on itself. Popped the passenger. Crushing him inside his own vessel. She always hated that look in someone's eyes at the very last moment. Right when they gave up, lost their pride and ego altogether. Everything which they had previously valued became obsolete and they just dropped it all. Pushing back from her position and standing abruptly, eyes still wild with wonder tracing Matsu with her own fire of intimidation; surely nothing to compare at the moment though.

"So, is this how most of your business meetings go? Someone shaking, and a man dead?"

She might have sounded a little concerned, but it was mostly conformed. I mean considering she had just witness a fatal crime at the hands of her current associate. Only a few non verbal hand motions spoke of her worry towards the life Matsu had just taken. 'Are you gunna clean that up,' if you will.

"What was that... those things you showed me... how did you show me? What was that?"

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Matsu actually laughed when Xenia asked about the usual nature of her business meetings, a sound equally as smooth as her voice though it was punctuated by her unnaturally sharp canines. “Sometimes multiple men,” she allowed, a truth she followed with another. “In truth I find meetings dreadfully boring compared to what I can see and do out in the Galaxy, a necessary evil. One needs credits to live,” she said, a colloquialism equally as mundane as the viewpoint she held of this facet of her life. She wasn’t giving it a fair shake; she loved the game of power, but she’d seen things that made her hate the stuffiness of a boardroom. She’d rather be out raising the dead and exploding stars in brilliant supernovas.

But it was the tone in Xenia's voice when she asked her questions, her composure, the way intimidation found a home in the set of her bones that Matsu liked. It was the nature of the Sith (and the Sith at heart) to challenge one another, to settle a hierarchy like wild animals. She’d had more than her fair share of apprentices over the years, the majority of whom disappeared in to the night under the pressures of the Sith, under the pressures of their demon-baphomet Sith mistress. Others died. It was no great loss for a woman that despised weakness in anyone – they always died in service to her, to some greater purpose. And those that didn’t die deserved their place among the stars, to take residence in some quadrant in the sky, shining in deference to the wake of her brilliant supernova. Next to her they were all ants building monuments she might destroy simply by passing by. Those that did not quail in her presence piqued her interest – those that sought her even after realizing what she might do (and she imagines snapping that pretty little skeleton, the thousand-thousand crunching of ivory turned to dust if she closed her fist and did the same thing to Xenia she just did to the speeder, the way she’d fold and crack, oh Matsu almost shivered) made her consider sharing even a fraction of the knowledge that swam in her daydream-nightmare mind.

The catch here was that Xenia didn’t understand she possessed the kind of potential that some Sith Lords lusted after. There were dozens of force masters spanning the galaxy, Jedi and Sith alike. And so many of them were insufferably idiotic. Matsu didn’t mind a differing of opinion – discord was the mother of innovation. But she’d met so many Masters and Lords that simply made stupid decisions, destroyed just to destroy, wasted incredible talent. Xenia was smart. Xenia could do well. If she accepted what she held right in the palm of her hand.

“I merely showed you something I imagined, a vision if you will. If I had wanted I might have made you believe it was really happening. I might have convinced you to get up and throw yourself through the window to join that unfortunate driver. But you possess the Force Xenia, and in impressive amounts.” She paused, rubbing the pads of her metal fingers together in contemplation. “I find meetings boring because when I’m not in this room I am out exploring, conquering, living in ways you can’t imagine. What I showed you is what you might become. But it is only one option of many. You can have anything you want without so much as lifting a finger.”

She paused again, wondering if she couldn’t convince the woman to try. “Go ahead. Imagine what you want and try showing it to me. You know how.” The Force would show her how.

[member="Xenia Nastassia"]​

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Mid Rim;
Curoscant;
Neuro-Saav Branch.

“I merely showed you something I imagined, a vision if you will. If I had wanted I might have made you believe it was really happening. I might have convinced you to get up and throw yourself through the window to join that unfortunate driver--"
"-- Doubt it."
"-- But you possess the Force Xenia, and in impressive amounts.”

She might have tried, too. That was to suggest, these thoughts did sound nice. The ability to do something she still couldn't be sure existed. But cycles spun, and her defenses rose once again. Logic screaming in her ears, pushing her away with all its might. Xenia's eyes, frantic while in slow motion, studied previously covered material. There was no way, there was no way what she was saying could be true. No one could command her mind, tell Xenia to leap from a window and have her listen. Only the edges tightened, lips pulled over teeth.

“I find meetings boring because when I’m not in this room I am out exploring, conquering, living in ways you can’t imagine. What I showed you is what you might become. But it is only one option of many. You can have anything you want without so much as lifting a finger.”

"Hnn," Xenia snorted, "almost sounds like an invitation."

Her fight was made more apparent now, straightening her back and coiling. Though, while her resistance increased, so did her curious desire. In her world, she would identify this kind of meeting as a few things. Business opportunity, possibly lucrative. Political ally, a representative of Nuero-Saav on the side of a fading peace ambassador during her decent into war preparation. Someone naturally associated with 'enemy' and 'evil.' A corperation heavily entrenched in the Sith's schemes. A natural resource for people such as this. But having that at her disposal, as a friend. Oh the possibilities. Beyond that, partnership with this woman, she was sure, could be manifested in some way or the other. After all, she rarely took no for an answer. Not that she'd have to. Already, her appeal had sunk sweet venom into the Sith master. Should she need it, she would have weapons of her own; she would have to, this woman was dangerous. Unexplained.

“Go ahead. Imagine what you want and try showing it to me. You know how.”

This is where she wanted to try. Wanted it to be easy, to just be able to use that same ability. Something which might take others years, or lifetimes. And who knows, she might have accomplished it, but she never tried. Instead, frustration at the request filtered into her response. "Or... we can save me from the embarrassment?" Having fully regained her previous composure, Xenia stepped forward, easily displaying a fear which had fizzled out. "Not that I've ever tried, but I think I'd be aware of my ability to crush air transports with my mind." Xenia continued, retreating to the desk which hovered somewhere between them anyway at this point. Detox, somewhat vacant until this point, kicked back to life and let focused receptors fall on the darker haired woman. Xenia's own gaze seemed to come with a little less neutrality than the droid, her own thoughts focused around the murder she'd just witnesses.

"I don't know what you're talking about, I don't know to do any of that--"

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Xenia Nastassia]

Proposed Ending Point.
Prequel to invasion on Kashyyyk.
[End | [member="Matsu Xiangu"] ]