Private Sinking Timestream [Past]

[Syri Corren]

She rarely enjoyed coming to this place. The two suns which orbited the unexplored planet left it with the burning heat of a desert and yet the trees and lush vegetation of the forest growing atop the sand seemed to thrive. Sweat made the thick strands of silvery hair stick to her forehead as she wiped her brow. It would have been wise for her to pack more supplies this time.

She'd followed her master through these trails many times over the past few years. Syri could not help but do as she was ordered after all. Tang'yu would be awaiting her arrival today as he had on all the others, probably tucked away beneath one of the structures of the ruins which dwelled on the planet. Master had deemed it necessary that she handle this training alone with the help of the Aing Tii monk. She was now at a point in which he felt his presence was not necessary until she showed signs of progress and success in the pursuit. She'd been through the sessions many times, trying to find mastery of the flow walking skills unique to the monk's culture.

This training was a secret kept between the three of them of course. She paused to look around at the wide tree and plant filled landscape. It could almost be considered an enjoyable location, well if it were not so disgusting to her eye. Still the forest was silent today. Almost as if it were hinting towards an approaching danger. Though she questioned it, nothing for the time seemed as though it were out of the ordinary.

"Strange..."

She mumbled to herself softly before closing her eyes. She tried to get a sense for the existences around her, though she found nothing unfamiliar to her in the moment.

Darragh Cearmada

 

[Darragh Cearmada]

Sneaking about in the shadows was not Darragh's preferred way of doing things. But he would not underestimate the value of information. And after today, he'd never underestimate those who went and got it for their Lords. Cearmada had shed his heavy, clanking armor for light and quiet cloth. But ever step in the shifting sand, the cascading sound of the grains sinking, made him scowl. He was not skilled at this sort of thing, but at least, thus far, Syri had yet to notice his presence.

The tracker Corsica had given him turned out to come in handy. Better yet that the infiltrator didn't like to ask questions. 'Better if I didn't know,' he'd said, when Darragh hadn't left immediately, expecting a demand to know more. Plausible deniability perhaps. Because whatever it was that Lord Boreas was sending Syri here for, he didn't want Darragh to know about it.

But if there was a threat that Darragh would be removed, a threat that Syri might not only surpass, but replace him, he would ensure she failed. Miserably.

Hiding behind a tree as he now was though, Darragh felt very, very far away from ensuring that inevitability. The man peered around the bark, only to pull his head back, as Syri had stopped, and was looking towards Darragh. Had she spotted him? No calling out, or hum of a saber, so Darragh did not think so. He was out of his element though, that much was certain.

Syri Corren

 

[Syri Corren]

Syri could feel the sensations within the Force. The familiar touch of endless energy that encompassed the various planets within their galaxy and even beyond. Some would call it a gift to wield such skill as to detect what was within her radius at her age, but Syri knew well. There were others who threatened her place and sought to take away what she'd worked for up to this point.

Her eyes snapped open as she finally felt the familiar signature she'd come to know so well over the years. What was Darragh Cearmada doing on Athiss? What could have-

She paused a moment in her musings. It was very clear why he came if she analyzed the situation accurately. He was clearly following her. To no end, it seemed that boy only sought to know every aspect of her being when she tried to do something alone. Keeping your friends close and enemies closer...that was the practice their Master instructed upon them.

With a brush of her silvery locks, Syri focused her gaze on the tree where her fellow apprentice stood. She was limboing somewhere between a desire to tease the other teen and annoyance at his consistent arrogance. To think he had the right to follow her was a bit much, but she could also have been wrong about it...right?

She retraced the path which led back towards the tree, only to stop in front of it and pause a moment. Slowly she pressed the palm of her hand against the tree's bark and let out a soft sigh.

"Do you want to become a tree? I would love to help you with that, Darragh. Though it seems you're still struggling with cloaking yourself....not very smart when you're trying to spy on me, ya know."

Darragh Cearmada

 

[Darragh Cearmada]

The soft whisper of sand beneath someone's boots, footsteps. Darragh's breathing slowed, as if in preparation of an ambush. More a reflex than any conscious effort to quiet himself. But it was all for naught. Unsurprising, really, as the footsteps stopped just before the tree which the Sith hid behind. The sigh confirmed that he'd been found out before Syri had even spoken a word. Darragh cursed himself for being so poor at shadowing someone.

He stepped out from behind the tree, already scowling at the girl as he turned to face her. "This isn't exactly my one of my strong suits," he answered her, amber eyes throwing daggers at her. "You should have been more careful about your movements though. If I could follow you, then surely someone else could have." Of course every chance he had at admonishing her was taken. Tightness in his jaw was clear evidence of his seething at his seething merely having her in his presence. Or perhaps that he'd been found out. "Lord Boreas would not be pleased.

Since I'm here, you may as well tell me what it is you're doing. Unless you intend to keep me from trying to follow you." Darragh's pushed aside the cloak he wore, the glint of metal drawing attention to his saber. "I'm happy to let you try," he taunted.

Syri Corren

 

[Syri Corren]

There was something about this little moment that just made her curious. Their master clearly favored Darragh between the two of them. When it came to the execution of raw unbridled power and destruction, well the boy clearly had the edge between them. While her skills focused more on the narrow and finesse that often paired well with the more complex uses for the Force...they were two sides of the coin. Polar opposites in their own manner of coexisting and yet, well matched in many ways.

He squawks like a Porg.

Syri smiled at the realization as the fellow Sith apprentice challenged her. The gimmer of his lightsaber was not missed as he brushed his cape back. The boy was always ready for a fight. There was a charm in that level of preparedness, or paranoia....whichever he preferred. She tilted her head to the side and just watched him. Her own weapons was mere inches from her hand, but she sought no challenge from him. No, she was simply here to study and grow her skills. It was not on her to meet his nosy desires, though she had very little to hide.

"You followed me because you wanted to, but perhaps you're right about something for a change. I should try harder to cover my tracks next time. I promise to make it more of a proper hunting game for you then."

She leaned frame against the tree. Silently her violet gaze traced the lines of his form. He'd matured a great deal since their time as children in the slums. Though the air between them had hardly shifted since those days. They were still fighting like children scrapping over the last piece of meat, but now it was for power. Who was more worthy? Syri did not have the answer. Darragh had defined his aspirations from a young age...she still did not know what she sought....

Well, there was one thing...

"You have so much heat in your approach. Always ready to pick a fight, it's really irritating. If you really must know....give me what I want first. A fair trade or a fight. The choice is yours, but you won't get your answers from my corpse if you win."

She looked up at him with a grin before leaning in.

"Kiss me or kill me?"

Darragh Cearmada

 

[Darragh Cearmada]

Syri eyed Darragh and his saber, tilting her head ever so slightly. Darragh could have almost sworn he saw a glimmer of mischief in her eyes. The briefest bloom of anger boiled and faded away. She had every intention of toying with him. Like always. "You followed me because you wanted to, but perhaps you're right about something for a change," she said, earning a scoff from Darragh. "I should try harder to cover my tracks next time. I promise to make it more of a proper hunting game for you then."
"Were it a hunt, my prey would not escape, even if it saw me," Darragh replied with a voice dripping with venom.

Clearly, she had no intention of fighting him. Annoy him to death, maybe, but not fight him, and so the man relaxed, a faint looseness returning to his body as he shook his head. Nothing ever seemed to change with Syri. She'd always been the craftier of the two. How often had had Darragh beaten down other orphans and street rats like him over a scrap of bread, only to have found it gone as soon as the fight was over, stolen from right under their noses by Syri. Where Syri had her wits, her guile, and though it pained Darrah to admit, her charms, he'd always had his strength, his skill. He was always the first to fight.

A fact seemingly not forgotten by Syri. "You have so much heat in your approach. Always ready to pick a fight, it's really irritating," she said.
"And your endless scheming never ceases to annoy," Darragh retorted, rounding about the the tree to fully face the girl. "If you really must know....give me what I want first."
"And what, pray tell, would that be?"
"A fair trade or a fight. The choice is yours, but you won't get your answers from my corpse if you win." She leaned in towards him, close enough that they were almost touching. "Kiss me or kill me?"

Quick, ferocious, powerful, Darragh's hand struck out like a snake, coiling his fingers around Syri's fragile neck and pushing her back against the tree as he snarled at her. "Is this all just some game to you?" he questioned as his fingers tightened, squeezing. "Have you forgotten who we serve, why. We are his tools until the day comes where we ascend." This time it was Darragh who leaned in close, his voice a lethal whisper. "Were it not for Lord Boreas, we would both be urchins in the mud. And if you lose his favor," Darragh's other hand brushed against Syri's side, trailing down her waist, her hips. "I will be happy to answer your question then."

Darragh released his grasp on the woman's throat stepping away, holding her saber. "I'll be keeping this for the time being," Darragh said, tucking the weapon away into the folds of his cloak.

Syri Corren

 

[Syri Corren]

Syri studied the boy before her. His willingness to fully face her made her step back towards the tree just slightly. It was a move to assess her options, but Darragh was known to strike with the brute force. Perhaps she'd pushed her teasing a bit too far, though his irritated reactions didn't really require much from her. It was the annoyance at her even suggesting something as trivial as a 'scheme' which often drew his ire.

She had an inkling of what was coming even as he grasped her with the grip of a viper. Her throat clutched firmly in warning. Her breath caught in her throat as she listened to his words. He clearly defined what they were in this world, tools for their master's schemes and aspirations. Certainly the time would come when they would surpass him, but... Syri did not dwell on this. Her slender pale fingertips wrapped around the wrist of his hand. She looked at him with an expression of calm. Being urchins in the mud or slaves to another's motivations...she bit her lip. An expression of equal rage crossed her features as she felt him take the saber from her hip.

Sweat poured down her features as she looked at the man. Her lip quivered.

As soon as he released her she fell down to a single knee. Her body gasped for air while she tried to gain her rationale. Anger bubbled in her stomach as she looked up at him. Holding out her hand she focused on the spot where she'd watched the boy tuck her saber before the cool silvery metal transported itself back to her fingertips and her thumb found the familiar button.

She slid the saber back to where it belonged at her side though.

"Perhaps this was a game, Cearmada and you may be right. I owe my everything to Lord Boreas."

She tilted her head to the side and stepped back from him much further.

"It also means that you will not be able to possess me until you've proven you're worthy."

She smiled then.

"At this rate, you'll never own me even if I want it that way, so disappointing."

Darragh Cearmada

 

[Darragh Cearmada]

The gleam of anger, rage, the fire in flickering in her eyes as Darragh held her there. Pinned between him and the tree, there was nowhere for Syri to go. And still she had the gall to throw all her hate into that gaze of her. It was moments like this that Darragh thought there might be something more worthwhile to the girl than just a sharp tongue and a pretty face.

The saber whipping back to her hand after he'd released her was only another reminder of that fact. Though the Sith could not stop Syri from retrieving her saber, he most certainly keep her from retaliating against him. Before the woman could ignite her lightsaber, his own roared, and the boy brought the tip just beneath Syri's chin. The crimson blade hummed deeply, rising and falling in time with the pulses of energy that ran down the blade, close enough to the woman's neck, even a small slip could be fatal. "Careful, Corren. There are some things even Lord Boreas cannot save you from," Darragh cautioned.

Syri was no fool though, and her saber hung from her belt only a moment later. And likewise, Darragh returned his saber to his, as Syri slid away from him. "Perhaps this was a game, Cearmada and you may be right. I owe my everything to Lord Boreas," she said. "It also means that you will not be able to possess me until you've proven you're worthy." Syri smiled then, with her pretty little head tilted to the side. A chesire grin, as she spoke, "At this rate, you'll never own me even if I want it that way, so disappointing."

Darragh did not meet Syri's smile as he held her gaze. His eyes flickered over the woman's face. What game was it that she played? What was it that she really wanted? Darragh thought, perhaps he knew. And he decided that he would give it her.

"Enjoy your time on this hell-blasted planet, Corren," Darragh said, striding past the woman, back towards his ship. There was work to be done.

Syri Corren