Voice of Naboo
"Blast it, Ace!"
The curse tore from Sibylla's mouth, sharp enough to cut through the jungle din and send a few nearby creatures scattering. The Voice of Naboo. The Daughter of Abrantes. The woman who wore composure like armor. Cursing aloud in raw, aggravated frustration at the infuriating stubbornness of Acier Moonbound.
"Must I truly shake sense into you?" she snapped. There was no stopping her now. Her face flushed with heated indignation as she jabbed her finger into his chest again, emphasis driven by equal parts fear and fury.
"For Shiraya's sake, I swear you make me want to -- UGH!"
She yanked her hands back, fingers curling into tight fists as she forced herself to turn away. One step. Two. Then she stopped, spun on her heel, and marched right back up to him without missing a beat.
"I will involve Republic forces and intelligence," Sibylla declared, voice ironclad. "They will be in place to extract you immediately if anything escalates. This is non-negotiable."
Her mind raced even as she spoke, already assembling contingencies.
"An encrypted tracker, perhaps. Something shielded. Something that cannot be detected through the Force. I do not care how complicated it is."
Then she turned sharply toward Lorn, frustration blazing openly now.
"Is there anything you can do," she demanded, "anything you can teach him, that will allow us to track his location and help him if this begins to affect him further?"
Surely a Jedi Master would at least know that?!