Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Stellar Exchanges


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Astra snorted. "Should I have gasped and flapped an arm around with excitement?" She held the glass up to visually inspect it for just a second before it lowered again. "Not often I taste something new. Strong enough to make an evening of it." Watered down swill was the last way to make any progress with the Chairwoman of Sanguine. Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to see just how strong this drink really was.

Lysander asked his question then, and Astra took another drink. Her head tipped back and then rolled atop her shoulders for a moment. A heated breath passed between her dark lips as her chin lowered once more. "No. There are three ways to succeed, Lysander: be smarter, be stronger, or be lucky. I don't believe in some external force shaping the world by chance in my favor; and I'm not the reigning Empress of the Core." His companion turned to regard the band that held his attention. "But there's always a bigger fish," she added in a lower, quieter tone. "Sometimes being smart just means being prepared even when everything should go your way."

Her burnt gaze rolled in his direction and she studied Lysander's face for a time. "Do you ever question why you do what it is you do?" The corners of her lips curled upward.



 


"Honestly?" One brow arched high. "A little coughing would've done wonders for my confidence." Lysander shook his head slowly. "Your theatrics are rather dreadful, Astra." Maintaining a straight face was becoming impossible.

He felt one of the labels she'd placed over him earlier. So, he turned it over a few times before deciding it was time to finally flick it back at her. "Sounds like you've taken the romantic out of the galaxy. It's precise, I'll give you that. Clinical even. But then you're always building walls around yourself against worlds that don't really care whether you're ready or just lucky."

The woman mentioned bigger fish, but the Emissary could see she was the one stocking the pond; it was a quality part of him respected. "If you spend so long sharpening your knives though, you'll never know how to put them down." The right question was in the air; now he was circling her logic like a moth.

One shoulder lifted in a half-hearted gesture. "I just think that's an exhausting way to look at the stars. To reduce everything to predator and prey. I prefer to lean more toward 'why' than 'how'." A weary sort of levity colored his voice at first. "There was a version of me that thought duty was just a fancy mask for ego.. that if I climbed high enough, the view would justify all the destruction I've left behind. But lately, that climb feels a little more like walking through fog. I'm not chasing a destination, but then.. I'm also finding myself more careful of not knocking anything else over on my way through."

Fingers slipped into the peacoat's pocket. "You think they sell the whole bottle?" Attention difted back to the indigo liquid. "I'm curious if the philosophical hangover comes free." A credcard was procured. "This one's on me."
 
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Astra chuckled. Lysander wanted to see cracks in her armor did he? Know she was 'Human' and not a deity wearing a Human-like disguise? Ordinarily she was more than happy to disappoint people in that regard. Though she wondered if either of them might appreciate just how lowered the guards were -- even if others couldn't see it -- once the alcohol kicked in. She was already starting to feel the need to move.

A sidelong golden gaze was returned when he spoke of her removing the romantic from the galaxy. "That's the price you pay for power, Lysander. Not success. Power." Once you scaled that mountain there wasn't any room left for romance. Being at the apex of all things meant literally everything else was beneath you clawing and biting to tear you down. There was a reason all the renown Dark Lords and Ladies of the Sith were cold-blooded monsters.

Really, she should charge Lysander hours for all this consulting work. Or perhaps tell him to call her Master. Well, now, that last thought Astra imagined in two entirely different lights; and just like that the ghost of a smile returned after her serious words of ultimate wisdom. Might be a wee bit drunk already.

A soft hum followed his comment about knives. Astra turned away from the stage so she could look at the man next to her.

The glass was moved to her left hand in order to reach over and slide her right up the front of his right shoulder. "Do you think the Vornskr ever tires of the hunt? Why and How are luxuries only those secure enough not to be eaten or die of starvation can afford." Astra stared at him for a moment. "You're surprisingly reflective, Lysander. Questions. Always questions, and thoughtful. I like that. But you should know there's no scaling that mountain without disturbing the pebbles along the way."

"A Lady never refuses a gift,"
she replied warmly.

After another drink, she set the glass aside and leaned in closer. "But what do you want, Lysander? What view are you searching for?"



 


Lysander held his divergence in thought behind a swirling glass, giving a curt nod toward her latest theory. Somehow, the vessel felt like clutching a relic of Empress Teta herself. Beautiful but brittle. Indigo caught the overhead bulbs as liquid rolled over his tongue, burning a trail on the way down. Edges of the room softened into a dreamlike blur. Two fingers shot up to the bartender while holding Astra's gaze. "We'll take the bottle." The credcard then thumped on the counter.

"I fail to understand why this 'summit' requires you to leave parts of yourself behind. If you're going to reshape the galaxy, you can't just be some state sponsored machine."

Twin emeralds locked onto her movements. An applause worthy tactic or not, he wasn't going to let it sanddown the pushback; might even sharpen things. Digging further into her logic was half the fun. "I think that's a terrible comparison," came the murmur, catching her eye once more. "Vornskrs hunt by instinct. They have zero capacity for doubt. So to say we're the same only downplays the.." Brows furrowed. "The complexity of the mess we're currently navigating."

The Emissary presumed she was just as prone to those midnight musings; perhaps even more so. He didn't fault her for the secrecy; that was the only way to survive in their line of work. "In fact, I know you're capable of a much better argument than that. Don't go romanticizing the predator just because it's convenient."

Dislodging a few boulders had always been a preferred hobby, ever since he was a Padawan; playing nice with the herd at the base would've been a total snoozefest. But the Covenant only brought landslides, and something about that brought pangs of remorse he couldn't name.

His shoulder shifted against her touch while cradling the glass longer. Tempting as another draw might've been, it would have to wait. Some inconvenient part of his mind was still circling the Vornskr before approaching from a different angle. "Let me find out your biggest weakness is really just failure of imagination then."

The bartender returned, bottle tucked beneath one arm. Astra's orbit seemed particularly well designed. A contemplative hum filled the gap. There was another assumption about the Covenant's golden boy that was worth correcting. "I'm not that easy, you know." Andesides, he didn't wish to provide a monologue or spend the evening excavating some answer he wasn't sure he possessed. Or worse, one that could sour the air.

Pulling back with a playful inch or two, he maintained distance with a graceful tilt of the chin. "Can you be more.. specific? Are we talking about my career, my sanity, or that you're currently trying to trap me before we've finished the second glass?"
 

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A soft snort turned into a quiet laugh as she patted his shoulder lightly. "Everyone says that in the beginning. Everyone claims they will be different." Astra sighed and while she did so with a smile, her eyes had a look of reflecting on more than the physical space in which she stood. "Everything you take with you weighs you down, Lysander. Your hopes. Your principles. Your emotions. The closer you get to the top, the more you're required to shed to take a single step forward."

"A wise person knows when to stop climbing and take in the view. They realize the peak doesn't have a better view; simply a different one. One fueled by entirely by ego."
She wondered if he'd hear the warning, or if it was just the ramblings of someone that had 'fallen short.' Someone might think that given her humbler state, and the amount she'd current shared with him. Youthful follies.

"How can I romanticize the predator if the romance has been taken out of the galaxy?" Astra's smile returned as she peered into his eyes. If he thought she'd gotten lost in reminiscence this question should show her mind remain as sharp as ever. Even if she felt a touch more uncomfortably warmer than before.

Another chuckle followed Lysander's suggestion her weakness might be a lack of imagination if she didn't answer his challenge.

The arrival of the bottle and his sudden withdrawal from physical contact delayed any response, however. When he separately just an inch, Astra's smile fell. As did her hand slowly back to the glass on the counter; her fingers wrapped about it carefully and drew it into the air, cradled at her side. "Not everything's about you," she breathed before she took a deeper drink of the alcohol.

"How. They'll tell you what you want to hear. Power. Control. Dominion over Life itself. Or," one finger pulled away from the glass as both were lifted, "Selflessness. Obedience. Tranquility for All. One seeks to destroy that which is physical. The other seeks to destroy that which is spiritual."

"Why? Because they can't both be right or they would destroy everything. Annihilate the Other and they can reshape the galaxy. It's a simple design. Provocative. Everyone loves having answers."

"So,"
the glass clacked on the bar top devoid of content, "why are you climbing the mountain of power to fulfill some dream you haven't shared, and how do you expect to get there in one piece?" There was a moment's pause before Astra smirked. "I can't guide you where you want to go, if I assume you want to be at the top, but you're angling for somewhere else."



 


Something in his bristled quietly, even if he couldn't fully refute it. To Lysander, abandoning your principles wasn't freedom, it was more like watching a fire go out and calling it progress. The soul that remained after that trade wasn't a stronger one. That was the part most Sith never seemed to grieve.

He tipped the vessel toward her in a mock-toast. "I'll give you that one. It's a good argument. But if the galaxy's truly gone that grey, someone ought to have the poor taste to argue with it."

The remainder of the drink vanished in the next draw, then the glass came down softly. His hand drifted toward the bottle. Fingers curled around the coolness; reaching out, he took her empty glass as well, filling it to the brim, before attending his own.

Swiveling on the stool, he turned away from the stage and faced her fully. "I'm not looking for the view from the summit. I think the higher people climb, the easier it becomes to forget why they started. I'd rather hold on to that than reach the top empty handed." Lysander gave that thought a moment to just breathe. "I think that's what makes your question hard to answer, honestly. I'm not sure I'm headed anywhere you could point to on a map, Astra. More like.. whoever's left after everything, I'd like to still recognize him." He couldn't help but suspect Astra's experience had been shaped by a very different breed of Sith.

"Would you like to hear a story?" One corner of his mouth lifted; he shook his head at himself and laughed. "Listen to me, I've apparently had one drink too many already." The dim lighting caught the scar along his jawline. "Let's try that again. Would you like to know how I built the Covenant? Fair warning.. I don't think you'll find it nearly as clever as you're expecting.."
 
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Forgetting why they started is the least of the many issues one had to deal with, but Lysander was young. Astra wasn't going to wax on like some Jedi Grandmaster desperate for someone to hear them. He'd think back to what she'd said later. When it mattered. When it would make sense on a personal level. If it came to that; with his proclaimed desire not to fall into the trap nothing said he was destined to do so.

What concerned her, however, was Lysander not articulating where he wanted to go. What he wanted to accomplish. Admittedly, Astra felt a bit too inebriated at the moment to fully explore her own thoughts, but this seemed in contrast to the eager and pointed introduction he'd given her on Teta. Something had changed though she knew not what.

"Of course." Life stories were usually horrible to sit through, but that was when you didn't ask for it. Astra wanted to figure more out about Lysander. So, a life story was fine. Right?

Rather than respond immediately to the self-deprecating humor, Astra turned to pluck her drink from the counter. When she faced Lysander again, she smiled. "And I expect you think Sanguine Enterprises' beginnings are the things of legend too. No, no. Go on. Tell me how it was built." So many things often began in otherwise unremarkable circumstances. Most people started the story at the first interesting twist in the journey, but that was rarely where it had begun. She was quite eager to learn about the memorable moments that came to Lysander's mind.



 



The glass had wandered from its original spot without Lysander seeming to notice. One finger drifted in idle loops against the counter. "Common assumption is that Desevro was where it all started. Doesn't hold up, though. The Galactic Kaggath.. that broke something in me. I was hardly functional after. Nearly dead, I suppose. Darth Anathemous crossed my path coming off a bounty run and handed me a direction. Desevro was where the training continued, sure." Two fingers tapped the rim twice. "But the hunger, Astra, it was never about conquest for me. Back then, Ukatis had a whole future built for me before I'd chosen a single thing for myself. My family's version. The Jedi's version. What I wanted was to be the one doing the writing."

The next drink went down slow and easy. "What's almost funny-" Warmth moved through his expression before finishing the thought. "-is that diplomacy was the original dream. I buried myself in philosophy for years over it. Cultural theory, mediation, all of it. I genuinely believed that's where everything pointed, that I'd spend my life helping people understand one another." His eyes found Astra again with more openness. "That part never really left me. I just carried it somewhere nobody expected."

The indigo liquor caught the low light as he reached for the glass, remembering it was empty. "Even on Korriban, I spent more than a year cultivating relationships. Not alliances. Relationships. Somewhere along the way combat stopped being the center stage. What filled that space was learning to become personally valuable. I learned how to make people feel understood, how to admire someone without becoming smaller because of it. Sparring intellectually without thinking disagreement was betrayal. I learned I could respect another person's strength without needing to prove myself superior or answer it in any sort of way."

The jazz ensemble pulled his attention sideways. "I stopped treating people as titles. Or weapons. Or obstacles." Lysander considered adding something else but didn't. "They became people. Complete people. Recognition generated trust.. and trust was something no 'order' could ever build."

Brows crept upward as he returned, aware that the story was becoming rather longer than he'd intended. Another smile followed. "I'll admit," his frame relaxed as he casually against the bar. "I'd hate to discover I've put you to sleep with the plainest chapter of the whole thing."
 

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"The first step for any Acolyte is to break them." Astra's second glass was half emptied when Lysander checked if she'd fallen asleep. "Whole people ask too many questions. See too many options. Resist. A broken person, on the other hand, wants something to fill the gap. They'll accept just about anything long as you're convincing enough it'll work."

Chin lowered, she gestured toward Lysander with the drink in her hand. "Everyone's the same in that regard. Reasons differ, but all the same. You have to remove something to make room for something else. Jedi. Government agents. Sith. Even criminal syndicates. Though, it's easier if you find someone that someone else already broke. Less likely they turn against you later that way. But if they were to turn, you want them to turn against someone specific instead of the entire outfit."

The glass made a solid thunk as she set it aside once more. "So, is that the view on the mountain's slope you've chosen, Lysander? Still pining after dialogue and understanding?" Astra smirked. "Maybe something broke in the Galactic Kaggath, and maybe you've taken the long and rocky road, but I see it in you, Lysander. They didn't break you properly. Poor fools." Maybe they hadn't meant to break him at all; probably just an act of convenience or neglect at the time. Of course, a Master could have finished the job afterward if they were mindful about it. Not her problem; not her responsibility to finish what they hadn't.

Lysander enjoyed dialogue. He wanted more than bloodletting. It was plain to see, and with what he'd just described... how else was Astra supposed to take it?

"A dangerous vision. Plenty of colleagues would view it as a weakness. Cardinal sin to ask too many questions, and call too much to task." A chuckle shook her shoulders. "Not me, Lysander. Though I wonder if you know where your own feet are headed?" Astra was a humble merchant (and crime lord). What business was it of hers whether Lysander was a True Believer? Still, he was quite the valued player on the field. If there were a chance, she certainly didn't want him ending up skewered on the saber of some loud-mouthed Lord that thought they were the galactic Janitor.



 


Lysander swirled the indigo liquid in uneven circles that spilled a few drops onto his thumb. "You're right, Astra. Back then, at seventeen, I couldn't compete with experience. I couldn't outduel half the room. I certainly couldn't outrank everyone. I wasn't a Sith Lord, but I had a full roster of those that'd go to war and bleed for me all the same. Their confidence gave me legitimacy. Knights gave me credibility. Acolytes gave me influence."

Shifting in the stool, he brought the glass back to his lips. He didn't pull it away immediately; he rested the rim against his bottom lip. Lysander thought about the men he had known, the ones who had been "broken" just enough to be useful, and the ones who had shattered entirely under their own loyalties.

Overall, his thoughts felt more.. open, trying to keep some grip on Astra's argument, though it really just stirred more curiosity. "I see the shape of what you're saying. If you pick someone who's already been hollowed out, you're not starting from scratch.. you're like.. inheriting a blueprint. It's smarter, really." No doubt it was a cold way to live; part of him couldn't fathom how other Sith carried that kind of weight every day.

"You think my feet are headed toward a cliff, don't you?" After another refill Lysander nudged his glass toward hers, like it was half a dare. "I'm going to be pining after dialogue and understanding until I die. It's my cross to bear.. or could even just be my favorite way to bother you today." Could be she was testing the structural integrity of his psyche.

"Astra." He tilted his head, a breathy chuckle slipping free as he watched her. There might've been a little spark of mischief behind it. "You kinda sound tired of the game, even when you're winning. Tell me, if you're so convinced I'm broken in all the wrong ways, what happens when I finally stop asking questions and start asking for help? Would you even know where to begin?"
 

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When Lysander nudged his glass, Astra picked her own back up and tossed the remaining half down. Her glass made a loud clack when she set it back down. Not a terribly wise idea given how hard it was already hitting, but she wasn't afraid of what could happen. If anything, everyone else in that bar should be worried what might happen to them.

"You're going to need to try harder, Lysander, if you think to bother me with dialogue and understanding. I am a very, very patient person."

Which led to his further remarks concerning the game. "Like I said, they didn't break you properly, Lysander. You're still asking questions. You humor the idea of asking for help. If a Sith Lord had done their job right all that energy would be focused on enriching yourself no matter the cost." A light chuckle followed. "You're fortunate, Lysander. Blessed. But that doesn't mean you're safe."

A heated sigh escaped her as she listened at bit to the side before she swayed back toward the bar. "I'm not tired. I'm indulgent. Sometimes you have to step back and observe the game. Even Sith burn out... Spectacularly!" Then her head tipped back as uproarious laughter poured out.

Astra leaned in with her eyes fixed on Lysander's green rings. "Go on. I dare you to say the words. Tell me you want a different end to your story. You don't want to go out in an explosion seen from the far side of the galaxy. You don't want to lay waste to every planet you lay your eyes upon. Tell me you want something more. I'm listening. More importantly, I don't owe anyone anything, and that the value of confidence is worth all the credits in the verse." A secret not shared -- a tattle not made -- could form bonds greater than any Force bond. "You can say it was just the alcohol talking later."



 


Lysander watched the vessel strike the bar with a sharp clack. A little more enthusiasm and it wouldn't have the first one she'd broken before him. The edges of the room had softened in the last several minutes. Those amber lights were wearing halos. When his focus shifted from Astra and back to the bottle, it took a moment to settle. Fingers found the neck, and he lifted it toward her glass. The angle was almost right. A hair more the pour would've happened. But something in what she'd said snagged him.

He thought about answering it straight. Proving he'd caught it without making a whole thing of it. Instead he just smiled for a second. "Patience isn't always passive." Lysander finally tilted the bottle. "Yours has been putting in a full shift tonight." The blonde gave the woman a flat and unimpressed stare. "Are you really suggesting my education was insufficient? Easy, Astra. That borders on a formal complaint if you ask me."

A hand lifted once more in silent tribute as he joined her laughter. Spectacular burnout had its merits, particularly when it belonged to someone else and occurred several systems away from him.

His mouth opened, then didn't follow through. The answer was almost assembled. Glancing down before looking back at her, the pearly grin that got away probably handed her half of what she was fishing for anyway. "You don't have to challenge me to keep me here. I'd rather take this conversation apart piece by piece and see which one of us gives something away first." The mystery brew made that a generous estimate. But he wasn't out of the game yet.

The rim of the glass settled against his lips. "I'm having fun, Astra." He took a small sip. "Are you?"
 

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Another sigh escaped her lips. The corners of her lips curved upward as she tugged at the knot of her tie to loosen it. Her dark head rolled until their eyes met once more. A twisted smirk had taken form as she leaned back against the bar. "I am enjoying myself. But, Lysander," a soft moan behind closed lips interrupted her, "I'm starting to think I shouldn't hold back."

Whatever he thought in that moment was unlikely to be what followed. Rather than Astra throw herself at him as he might have thought she had earlier, a stir in the Force accompanied her sentiment. It began to spread throughout the chamber where they stood. An ethereal touch that merely connected with the living organisms that shared the space with them. All except for Lysander and the Band.

Astra's upper teeth worried her lower lip for just a moment before she chuckled. "You should be more careful, Lysander," her tone had a lighter and almost musical quality to it, "about what you wish for. What you might learn." Nothing had happened yet. Perhaps, in part, because she was curious if he'd try to stop her, or figure out what her intentions were. If he cared. If it mattered. Even something strong in the Force able to survive the vacuum of space and conjure storms could still get drunk. The question was what kind of drunk was she?


 


Lysander peered at Astra over the rim of his glass, saying nothing as the indigo drink settled across his tongue. The knot that gave beneath her fingers earned a glance; the look which followed captured his attention longer. Then his head tipped faintly to one side, meeting her halfway. She had been good company tonight, and he saw no reason to punish either of them for that. Sharp without being exhausting.. perceptive in ways that didn't turn every exchange into a duel. Rare qualities.

"Shouldn't hold back from what? Admitting I'm better company than you expected?" His brow rose.

At first, he mistook another sensation for a consequence of the alcohol. But Lysander was not so ignorant of the Force, nor naive enough to assume that intoxication suddenly made everything unreliable. Lowering the glass, it was set aside, placed just beyond the sweep of his hand. The movement also granted him another moment to consider what was going on.

"You know.. historically speaking, dangerous revelations have been quite terrible at discouraging me."

Color touched the high planes of his cheeks. His eyes went soft around the edges. Astra's warning fascinated him; whatever she chose to reveal had always been hers to offer. By his standards, he'd managed something close to good behavior.

"But what I discover and what I think of you afterward are two different questions, don't you think?" His smile widened into something crooked. "Tell me this much, Astra. If I do keep 'wishing' for it, are you really going to let me walk straight into whatever comes next?"
 

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Astra reached back and pressed the butt of her palms against the bar's edge, she used it as leverage to stretch up against it with a sigh. Her head lolled a bit to the side as she met Lysander's eyes with a smile. "Definitely. I may not be your Master, Lysander, but people like me... we thrive on people walking straight into our little traps. At my... level you get your kicks where you can." A soft chuckle accompanied a drunk patron off to the side slumping over their table.

"And I certainly I wonder what you would think if you knew more about me." She slowly pushed away from the bar with one hand so she turned slightly and stretched in Lysander's direction. "But people like me also don't like giving away their secrets for free, you know. There's always a price. Not all of them terrible or unpleasant. Especially if we actually like the other person."

Her red lips parted enough to reveal the whites of her teeth. Astra desperately wondered what Lysander would say. What it would prompt her to do next, and what he would think of it. Nothing like a little hard liquor to get someone to open up; though it might not be quite in the manner expected.



 


Shoulders rolled back just enough for the vertebrae to stack properly, correcting himself from that earlier slouch. More attentive.. more controlled, or so he thought at least. A seated position always made reaction time a little slower, that much was unavoidable, but standing hadn't exactly been warranted.

A quick glance shot over toward the patron slumped at the table, the timing of it almost too perfect with her words, and something clicked into place. That prickle from earlier at the edge of awareness and nape alike that hadn't quite been given a name, suddenly made a lot more sense. Difficult to put into proper words even now, but instincts had a habit of being reliable for a reason.

It was almost like that mystery indigo peeled back a few layers from his usual lexicon. "Yeah, definitely picking up what you're putting down," came the response, voice lower than normal. "Almost get the vibe that I'm sprinting straight into something though, you know? Hard not to, I suppose. I take it you've already figured out that stimulating conversation is the easiest way to get access to me. Pretty effective strategy, have to give you that."

Fingers drummed lightly against the bar. Eyes crinkled at the edges. “We could figure out how to spring it together, make it more interesting for both of us."

Attention caught on the flash of white. Primarily the canines drew focus. "So what's the play then? Gonna have to spell it out for me or am I supposed to just keep guessing and hope I stumble into the right answer? 'Cause I'm rather good at improvising, Astra." With a small shift on the stool came an easy tilt of a shoulder toward her. "How about this, let's negotiate. A secret for a secret?”
 

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"Caution is for the timid," Astra replied quietly as Lysander spoke of being bold. At least when you were drunk. Nothing bad with being mindful when making large, corporate deals.

She reached out with her finely manicured nails and gently fussed with Lysander's collar. "Good. Good." Her burnt eyes had a lack of focus to them, but still managed to track where she worry along Lysander's collar bone. "A trade. Do you prefer being shown or told? Which do you believe more: your eyes or your ears?" Few just took what someone said as truth if there was a pleasant way to see it in action. Pleasant. Well, it could be. Or might not be. Life was full of little challenges. "You first."

The Force had concentrated energy in the surrounding area with Astra, and then a small surge shot toward the band that played their casual background noise. To one in particular, actually. A slight jerk and they had the sudden inspiration for something a little more... upbeat. Lively. With more substance or volume to it. Something to dazzle the attention of other patrons. To tickle the senses. To distract while Lysander and her flirted with danger.

Someone knowing so much about her could be dangerous. Might even mark them for death if their relations took the wrong turn. Not that she worried about it at the moment. What was the point in worrying all the time about what might happen? She'd handle it if it did. Like she always did. In the meantime, his curiosity should prove most engaging.



 


Lysander's head turned on its own accord, cheek nearly grazing her fingers before he caught himself in a short and aborted motion. Twin emeralds looked back to Astra, settling back where they belonged, as though pulled by a string.

He mulled slightly on that categorization. Part of him nearly resisted it altogether. The Emissary might've even been tempted to ask her which she was hoping he'd pick, but the question dissolved before it left his throat. "Ears," the word was soft as breath on glass. "Because what someone chooses to admit can reveal more than what they demonstrate. And I like hearing you tell me things, in your own words."

At first, he felt something at the base of his spine, similar to how a storm presses against the windows. That was followed by a hum along his skin, for that was where the Force always sat closest. And with the Dark, it was akin to heat rising off pavement. Lysander's gaze didn't stray, but his attention surely did.

From across the room, a musician reset his mouthpiece, took a deeper breath, and the sax sang out. The blonde's mouth curved into an unplanned smile. "You know curiosity isn't the kind of thing I can turn off once it's been invited. I hope you don't think I'm trying to collect facts about you like those trinkets of yours." The truth was, he'd spent a long time being admired from a distance. It was easy; it left no fingerprints. Understanding demanded proximity, and that required letting someone close enough to misread him. A dangerous game indeed.

"My turn, then. I never cared about most Sith the way I pretended to. Not beyond what they could teach me. I wanted to understand the Dark well enough that when people like them started moving, I could nudge the path away from Ukatis." Of course, that was barely scratching the surface.
 

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At first, what Lysander had to say was hardly a secret. He didn't wear it on his sleeve, but just the fact he didn't 'care' about the Sith in the way people might expect wasn't worth discussing. Most didn't. Who could define what was proper anyway? A Pureblood Sith, perhaps, not that Astra would expect any modern person of that heritage would believe what their ancestors generations ago held true. It was the Millennium Falcon philosophical problem: you replaced every component, a piece at a time, was it still the Millennium Falcon? Or, in this case, The Sith.

"Ukatis," Astra purred. Hardly a proper secret, but it was the start of one. Lysander still cared about home, and wanted to keep the Sith from plundering or destroying it. Dangerous admission. Not one he'd admit to just any, so it was a secret, but... well, perhaps she was biased concerning Ukatis was hardly the center of the galaxy. To her. Perhaps it was for him.

Using her thumb and forefinger, Astra pinched Lysander's collar to hold him still as she invaded his personal space. Leaning forward, Astra brought her lips near a lobe of Lysander's ear, "I am a blood-sucking, life-stealing Alchemist with no interest in what the Dark or Light wants. I am the shadow in the corner of your eye in a poorly lit hallway that vanished when you turn to face it." A soft hum or moan followed. "Shame you didn't say eyes." With that shed would draw back to meet Lysander's eyes once more with a smile on her lips.



 


Part of Lysander expected her to pull at it. To question it, to ask why, see if he'd unravel a just little more. Then again, Ukatis was so small in comparison to other worlds, some would never think to place their sights on it. Safe because it was so often forgotten.

A slower breath caught, just slightly, and he turned his head once more, consciously so this time, to accommodate that quiet conspiracy. The idea that neither Dark nor Light got a vote won his easily. More than interesting, it might've been the first thing she'd said all night that suggested freedom.

Focus drifted back toward her, voice lowering as the words came, "You almost make yourself sound like a bedtime story people tell poorly behaved apprentices, Astra." Not that the rest escaped him; there was a great deal there to unpack.

The notion that he'd somehow picked wrong was an awful thing to tell someone if she wasn't interested in repeat business. His knee brushed against hers, keeping them inside the same small pocket of air. "And here I thought Corpos were supposed to respect a customer's selection." Dry around the edges, mayhaps, yet laced with Lysander’s usual amusement.

Smiling then, softer, a different question arose. "Is it alright, then? To make it our secret instead of just mine?" But behind the Emissary's smile were many thoughts jostling for position.. all the things that could be said given half a chance. Hopefully, indulgence would stretch a little longer on her part. “I’ve imagined the Covenant falling apart a few times before. There are only two.. maybe three people I wouldn’t put a knife through the back of if payment ever came due.”
 

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