Private Stellar Exchanges

[Astra Sadow]

"Don't keep me waiting long." Bad habits? Such a studious fighter. Long as he had enough creativity to go with it she could see him living a long, natural life as he seemed so keen to do.

She lifted her foot as Lysander desired, but dropped it quickly back to the ground. There was no need to delay and leave herself wide open to just any thought that struck him. Creativity was fine, but there was such a thing as being lazy. A simple shove while her foot was off the ground would be too simple.

Did he intend to shove through? Astra smile in the face of Lysander telling her not to blink. He wouldn't need to worry about that. He had her full attention. She would, of course, try to shift her foot to avoid being trapped, but there'd be no over-the-top test of strength or inhuman ability to remain rooted in the ground. Astra was just a humble merchant that knew a thing or two about wielding a sword. How could she possibly contend against someone of his skill and experience?

Now, a street brawl Astra's known history would completely support her tearing the eyes out of someone's head.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Astra moving that foot didn't feel like failure. More important that she moved at all, really, and watching where the weight went afterward told a better story than whether the trap had landed.

Attention found its way back to those golden eyes, one slow climb from boots to gaze. And with shoulders, forearms, torsos nearly pressed together every small shift in balance passed without grace to hide behind. Distance wasn't something Lysander had any intention of offering. His head shifted alongside hers, crowding the space where she might have turned freely. There was still that nagging sense that she was holding back.. giving him the shape of the fight without the whole of it.

Breathing turned demanding the longer the clinch held, sharper pulls through the nose. Real fights never allowed this much time to pass; combinations had to live below thought, instinct before recall, or else the moment was already lost.

"You're awfully comfortable in my space, aren't you?" Hips moved then; the supporting foot pressed into the floor, core cinching, as motion traveled upward. Lysander's grip tightened, and a knee drove upward, aimed for her midsection.

 

[Astra Sadow]

"Exceedingly." Someone like her didn't mind violating the space of another. The same was not true in reverse, but then she had invited him into this embrace. In fact, she quite enjoyed it. Nothing more exhilarating than a struggle.

Lysander's knee suddenly found it in her midsection, and the black-garbed woman's body jerked upward slightly from the impact.

When her feet were to touch the ground, however, she did not right herself in a bent position. Instead, her full weight simply fell toward the ground. Astra had gone limp as her other hand closed on the man's arm. Both hands engaged -- one loosely in the binding, one firmly for grasp -- she would use her body's weight and the planet's gravity in an effort to leverage Lysander forward and down. The heels of her feet would dig into the earth and seek to push her body away, and in so doing attempt to throw or roll the man over her head.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

The knee landed, and the body was already moving.. mind locked into the clinch before the everything finished registering. One knee alone shouldn' t have opened it up; another was right there to throw, or the head could have stayed close enough for an elbow to fall like a tomahawk. There'd been plenty of options.

Astra shouldn've answered back, to trade, not vanish from the pocket. Pressure bloomed along the trapped arm. Instinct said to pull away. But there were moments in any exchange when the line between stubbornnness and stupidity disappeared. This was sitting right on it. She was now winning the standing-up; pretending otherwise would only make the landing worse.

Fingers spread open. the sword dropped; no shoulder was worth keeping it.Air punched from lungs as earth rose up hard, grass smearing against black fabric during the roll onto shoulder and side. There would be no attempt to spring back to his feet; the struggle was simply changing levels.

Lysander's aim was straightforward.. try to keep hold of the arm Astra committed to him. One leg would try to snake around hers, foot searching behind the calf for a hook. If purchase could be found, he meant to use the trapped limb and captured arm together, to drag her down to the ground as well.

 

[Astra Sadow]

Astra moved to pull the blade free and stab at Lysander with it, but the man didn't hesitate in his response. Her black-form toppled as he lashed out at one of her legs.

Rather than immediately scramble to find leverage, Lysander's partner began to laugh as she lay with her back on the ground. The Nightstar was still secured in the grip of her left hand, but it too lay at her side without an effort made to chop down at what might be a prone opponent.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Rather than allowing that tumble to pull them apart, Lysander rolled over the shoulder and rode the motion, attempting to cut across Astra's centerline before she could rebuild a frame underneath. One knee found the ground tight to her hip, while the opposite leg stepped wide, base broadening; his weight poured forward.

Nightstar earned his focus first. Fingers clamped around the wrist that bore it, driving that arm back toward the earth. The weapon was dangerous enough without being turned against him. At least, that was the excuse Lysander supplied himself in the moment. Only with that contained did the other hand hunt for Astra's free wrist, seeking to collect it and pin it alongside its partner.

Apparently being dragged into the dirt had improved her mood. Not that he could remember it being particularly foul beforehand. Her laughter caught him off guard anyway. But the sound wasn't unwelcome.

Inhaling another uneven breath, Lysander's gaze held hers captive from above; the corner of his mouth quirked with amusement.

"You did ask for bad habits, Astra."

Then, his grip cinched more securely around both wrists, thumbs settling over strangely cool skin where a pulse should have fluttered; eventually, a grin broke through.

"Enjoying yourself, then?"

 

[Astra Sadow]

Astra smiled up at Lysander with her burned, golden gaze. Her lips curled and sharpened as his grip tightened. "I am. You any idea what it's like, Lysander? To live your life with the demands of appearance and respect? No," she corrected the obvious thought, "not fear and command. Nobility. It is a lonely peak, but with a grand view."

"If you were anyone else... if we were anywhere else, I would have been required to kill you." Astra laughed at the very idea. "So much better to be here, alone, rolling on the ground without those demands. Something you should keep in mind when you deal with the Empress, I hope. It might explain a great deal about her own motivations." A man like Lysander might not always understand. No doubt, Mercy frustrated him at times. Even if you understood it'd do precious little to remove the frustration, but it could bolster your tolerance. Better yet, it might enable you to better.... direct their attention knowing how or why a person took action in the first place.

"Well, then?" Astra's eyebrows rose slightly. "Care to draw first blood, or shall I?"

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Lysander shifted weight fully onto the braced leg; his lithe frame hovered squarely above her now. The opposite leg was drawn inward until both rest snug against her sides. Breath, even not long ago, began to even out again.

"I understand far more than you know," came the murmur. "I know all about the demands of appearance, and the weight of a crown." After that admission settled, "Dismissal isn't something you should grant so lightly, you know." Perhaps youth invited such underestimation; others once did the same, years ago, on the training grounds. Many died for it.

Mulling on her words took a moment longer than expected. That was an entire conversation folded into a couple sentences.. one maybe for later, or maybe soon. "I don't think you have it in you to kill me," slipped out, softened by another breath drawn in. "And you're right about a certain Sith Lord. Understanding her motivations doesn't make dealing with her less difficult, just more.. navigable, if that makes sense."

Even looking down, his chin lifted just so. "Careful now, there you go asking for bad habits again. An alternative exists, after all. Offer fealty in full, and the matter of first blood will be forgiven." Amusement sharpened the next words. "Ears, remember?" Not so easily forgotten, was it? "I'd rather hear what submission sounds like from you, Astra."

 

[Astra Sadow]

The understanding of the young. Astra knew the young lordling would say something along the lines of what he had. A Prince of Ukatis. Or would he rather her think him a Prince of Darkness? Either way, both had the same problem: he was too young. Many could lift a heavy weight. Few could hold it there for any length of time. Ruling over others was an endurance sport once the crown was taken. That was something only time taught.

Astra's smile slipped a hair at Lysander's claim. Now which of them was taking the other lightly?

"And is that part of swordsmanship, Lysander? Do you often get people to swear fealty to you during a sparring session?" She gazed up at the man assessing whether he truly expected her to genuine offer fealty to him, or if it was a jest. Words she could grant him, but their meaning he would never have. Not in the way he might want it. Something like her did not bow. And if he thought to make a command of it... Astra hoped he'd be a good sport and not put his life on the line.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Only a few handspans separated them, close enough that looking away took effort. Perhaps that last challenge was showing him part of the woman that lived beneath all their easy conversation. Leisure in one's posture, steel in the words.

Interesting though, how easily the rest of the journey had gone. She'd spent it granting him easier access and now offered no objection to how they were positioned. Almost casually appearing to lay in the grass, were it not for the way he held her wrists in place.

"Completely improper swordsmanship. Terrible form, really," offered with a note of nonchalance. "But no. Fealty is never given lightly, nor taken in play. What happens in my sparring circles is trust." Very unlike Sith, that distinction, and something Lysander knew already without needing to be reminded.

Nevertheless, tradition had its own language, and Lysander saw no real harm in speaking it. "It is tradition to claim a prize when you win a bout fairly. And as it stands, you do appear to be losing."

Despite what was spoken, Lysander's own smile didn't slip, however. "I wasn't asking the Queen for her kingdom. I only said I wanted to hear your submission. I never said I expected to keep it."

 

[Astra Sadow]

He only said he wanted her submission? Astra would need to help him with his wordsmithing. Leading with the word 'fealty' would shut any ruler's ear to whatever he'd actually meant by the word 'submission.' People of power were patient monsters, but egotistic beyond all measure. The instant the wrong word was used a conclusion was not only formed, but reprisals planned. Lysander was eloquent, but he'd taken on the diplomatic burden of the entire Covenant on his shoulders; at least he'd gain experience quickly, and his Empress wouldn't be disappointed if the wrong word triggered a war.

"Very well." Astra looked up into Lysander's eyes from where she lay. "You are victorious, Lord von Ascania. You have vanquished me." Did he think her incapable? Had he hoped for it thinking it elevated himself somehow -- though she had no official position in the Covenant? Was it merely a curiosity? Astra wasn't certain yet. Perhaps she would find out in the manner with which the man responded next.

"Could I sue for you to release me?" Or was that too something he wanted to hold on to for a time? Demeaning? Not any more than asking for her to submit to his victory, which admittedly would be rather upsetting for anyone of authority. Astra was just a Corpo, however. And Lysander was an... 'honorable' warrior.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

The smile rested upon his visage a second longer as she spoke; there wasn't much satisfaction in the 'victory', though. His hold on her wrists was already loosening, thumbs easing their pressure. Lysander held himself up then with palms pressing into the grass, before pushing himself up a little more to give her space to sit up if she wished. Some sort of reset on equal footing. From that mounted position, Lysander pulled one knee over and then shifted his body off to one angle. In truth, the position to him was recognizable enough as a full mount, born more from grappling fundamentals than some notion of 'conquest.

Resting on both knees, breathing began feeling normal again. A hand was brought to wipe away a bead of sweat before it could slip further. Had Abbadon's weather was pleasant enough for this sort of work, bright but not brutal.. just enough breeze to cool heated skin. Post training hummed pleasantly behind the eyes. that clear headed stillness that typically followed exertion. Still, he found himself somewhat conscious after being so close to Astra, conscious of breath and balance and where hands had just been. One shoulder lifted, almost self-deprecating. "Did I show you enough of my bad habits?" Lysander asked, inviting critique. "And I'm curious to hear what you thought of Nightstar."

 

[Astra Sadow]

Perhaps Astra could have put more theatrics or emotion into her reply, but even someone wearing a mask still had to contend with deep-seated desires or inclinations. It had taken effort not to cast him off out of habit. Reverse the fortunes. He wouldn't have expected it; certainly not after their exchange where she hadn't tried to be anything more than Human. Well, some of her ego had leaked through it seemed and so her submission didn't seem to make Lysander giddy with victory. He did at least seem content, but not about to crow about it.

Had she made a mistake? Apparently being 'Undercover' truly was a difficult thing. Astra would need to make certain her operatives were well compensated.

After he moved aside, Astra rolled slightly and lifted her upper body off the ground with taunt belly muscles. As they sat there, another curio might be gleaned. Perhaps registered before unconsciously. Perhaps now. Or not, but Astra was not breathing laboriously after their bout. That was a mistake, but not one easily corrected. Just because you consciously knew of a thing didn't mean it was easy to replicate an unconscious act. Physical exertion, for example.

"Enough of them," Astra chuckled. "Perhaps I showed too many."

She lifted the blade and laid it across her legs while she sat there. "Well-made. Well-balanced. It would be more effective against a lightsaber, of course. I wouldn't recommend you trade it for any other." Which was all true. Well, perhaps a broadsaber, but that was just Astra's personal bias seeping through.

"Thank you for indulging me, Lysander. It isn't often a woman like myself can just fight someone. No need for elaborate ruses or overwhelming force. Just two combatants on equal footing with a blade." There was a smile there, but with a softness and glance to the weapon belying reflection. Perhaps of the past. "I hope it was invigorating for you as well," Astra added as she looked back up at him once more.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

Lysander remained in that seated, kneeling position. His attention drifted; fingers combed through the grass before him, tracing down to the soil beneath. A small pinch of earth gathered between fingertips, before letting it spill back to the ground.

The gesture gave hands purpose while words settled. Looking back up, he offered the woman a small smile. "Well, I'd rather see too much than nothing at all." There was no desire to turn that admission into some sort of victory; training had a way of revealing people, whether they intended it or not. "I spend most of my days standing across from someone behind a wall anyway. So, even the inconvenient ones aren't always so terrible."

His focus slid along the phrik-edged blade resting across her legs. "Nightstar's served me well. Though it's not exactly the easiest thing to carry around and conceal, you could say." Humor warmed his tone as he leaned back more onto his heels. "I've considered returning to a lightsaber for some time."

Today's session could only improve from here; they'd learned the shape of one another's habits, or some of them. Next time, they might push further.. if she wished. "I enjoyed this too. More than I expected. I'd like to run it back again sometime."

"And there's no need to thank me," Lysander added. "You wanted a proper fight, and I did as well. You brought something worthwhile to the exchange too. So it wasn't a favor or anything. We can train anytime the opportunity presents itself. Besides, if you're ever looking for me, the training grounds are usually where I breathe. Whenever the Covenant permits, of course."

 

[Astra Sadow]

"Still walking that dangerous road," Astra chuckled. "Plenty in this world and the next you can't unsee once seen. Many any sane creature would kill to forget." Well, it was his curiosity that held her attention. If he were content with only what he already had there'd be little for them to talk about. "I hope you're prepared."

A soft hum followed his remarks about the sword not being easily concealed, and a thought of returning to a lightsaber.

"Truer than you know." They certainly could train any time. Astra reached forward to grasp the sword. She lifted it straight up, parallel to the ground in one hand. "After all, concealment," there was a slight twist to her wrist and Nightstar seemed to fold into the space around it until it ceased to exist, "is in the eye of the beholder."

"But I happen to know a few... forgotten techniques if you find modern styles as mass-produced as I." Her wrist twisted again, but instead of the Nightstar reappearing in her grasp, an obsidian sword handle and cross-guard did instead. "Not that you must pick between the two."

Lately, the Covenant had been pushing Astra's ability to keep her own abilities secret. It would be best if she admitted to them -- to an extent -- willingly, especially to someone like Lysander whose presence she enjoyed. Not everything, of course; after all, a woman should be allowed her mystique.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

His gaze fell to a scuff in the dirt, tracing its meaningless shape before lifting back to her. "It's the only road I remember, Astra." The last few years taught him that well enough. Every lesson, every loss, every escape laid a path he once might've called reckless.. now it felt like fate. Besides, curiosity rarely led somewhere safe; it favored locked doors and whispered truths.

"Prepared? No. I doubt I'll be prepared. I can be careful. I can listen. I mean, there's value in preparation.. a sort of grace in staying calm while the galaxy tries to embarass you." He shrugged lightly. "I often wonder if things are meant to catch you off guard. Otherwise, they would only be lessons, and not experiences."

Lysander's eyes drifted to where Nightstar disappeared. It shouldn't have shocked him. There was much knowledge in the galaxy.. buried in old orders, hidden in bloodlines, traded between people who know better than to advertise what they could do. Declaring something impossible was often just a symptom of having lived too narrowly.

The woman's secret held his attention more firmly than the weapon itself. Lysander glanced at the sword as it rested in her hand. One brow lifted gently. "You've been waiting to say that one, haven't you?"

"Mass produced is a little harsh. But you're right, I suppose a weapon does lose some of its character when everyone carries the same answer." The humor helped him make room for the seriousness underneath. "If there are techniques you think might be useful, I'd rather learn them from someone who respects their limits than stumble into them alone. Whenever you have time."

A shadow crossed his tone then. "Both would be ideal. Another cauterized stump isn't always enough. Sometimes I need to watch them bleed."

 

[Astra Sadow]

Astra rolled her shoulders. "A few add something that makes it distinctly theirs, but not many. Most are cylinders with different fittings."

The broadsaber snapped to life with a crackle and a deep, low hum. Its red glow came from the slender, scouring edges that framed Sith Alchemical glyphs that ran down the 'flat' of the blade. "Eclipse." It lacked the thick control boxes, the golden ribs, and silver accents most had. Its hilt was black. Its cross guard narrow. The pommel a round cap that could nest pleasantly in the palm of a hand. Astra slowly lifted and turned the blade in the air for a moment. "There is none like it. Much like your Nightstar." She took a moment to roll it so Lysander could clearly see the glyph writing. Would he understand it? He was quite intelligent and educated, but that didn't mean he knew ancient scrawl.

The writing said, "There are no limits."

"Then do both." Astra smirked. "A lightsaber is a living weapon in the right hands. As you are. Use it. Watch it cut through the enemy's ranks like mist, and then use the Force to extract the blood you so crave." Her other gloved hand lifted and curled inward. It wasn't squeezing exactly. Perhaps Astra would have to demonstrate on a living creature for Lysander to understand that technique. If he wasn't too upset about the implications of what she'd shown him or said so far.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

A nod came first, attention drifting toward the space ahead as the broadsaber shimmered into being. That same spark of surprise, identical to the feeling Nightstar summoned.. the same trick, yet no less striking.

Tracing down the flat of the blade, the runes caught the light next; they were impossible not to admire for their brilliance. From the etched script, attention lifted for a second to those golden eyes before settling again on the weapon between them. Nightstar always betrayed more of Lysander than intended, more history than any words could carry. Maybe Eclipse did the same for her?

"What is the story behind the name?" The question left, accompanied by an open palm turned to the space between them; an invitation, nothing more. A slow roll of the neck to one side drew a soft pop. "The short version is plenty, of course.."

For all the ease, that familiar inward negotiation of how much to offer and how much to hold close was present. Then, with a mental shrug that dismissed the hesitation entirely, honesty eventually won out. "The lightsaber comes with me whenever diplomacy calls. Emissary work and all that.. it's never far." That line of ancient scrawl captured him again. "What do the runes mean, Astra?"

An unconscious smile surfaced before it could be checked. There they were again, questions gathering one after another, so entirely characteristic of him. "At this rate, we may never actually make it back to the Lyrandar complex." came the slightly dramatic musing, one of those little wandering truths that sometimes surfaced without permission.

 

[Astra Sadow]

The first they'd met, Astra had turned glass into sand before Lysander's eyes. Though Astra had never elaborated as to how, why, or to what extent her knowledge or power went. This would be the first he'd seen the broadsaber in person though. A warm smile and only a second's pause followed Lysander's gesture before she slowly extended the hilt forward. She placed it in his hand with the blade still burning brightly between them.

"By our hand we turn day into night, swallowing everything in darkness. Only our light remains." No need to kill or blind everyone in the galaxy. They just wanted all those creatures to bow in worship or tremble in fear; they'd look up at the silvery ring of their magnificence and pray for relief.

It was just one woman's dream, anyway.

"It is thrilling to bisect an enemy's armored vehicle with a single blow isn't it?" Not quite what Lysander had in mind? That was okay. Astra spoke only the truth.

When he asked about the runes, Astra look at them for just a moment. "The only limits are those we set on ourselves," she replied as her golden rings slid back in his direction. "Even death." The corners of her lips hiked upward, curious what Lysander might say in response.

A chuckle followed Lysander's musing. "Never is a long time, Lysander. If we're to be lost, I could show you somewhere to snare the senses for a lifetime -- or, in your case, somewhere with a library large enough to accomplish the same. This planet is a delight and has its mysteries, but a woman has needs."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow​

The broadsaber settled into Lysander's palm with a cradling motion. His fingers fanned beneath the crossguard before angling the blade upward for closer inspection. Appreciative focus followed.

"That particular kind of faith has always been a heavy crown to wear," rolled off the tongue with softness. "The brighter the light, the more people expect it never to fail. Wouldn't you agree?"

Slowly turning the hilt in his palm, weight shifted just enough to understand the weapon's balance. "It is nice to bisect any foe when negotiations are off the table. Though I do try. Probably harder than most really, so by then.. yes, it's earned." Lysander recalled offering something of the like to the woman back during their first meeting. These days, outside the Sith, options narrowed quickly to persuasion or the blade.

"Freedom isn't about removing every boundary, but learning which ones deserve to be kept," was offered casually. He scanned over crossguard of her broadsaber once more, further inspecting on the craftsmanship. "I've been negotiating with death for some time. Still, courtesy demands reading the fine print before signing." Astra's mention of death was surely a curious pattern that invited wonder. But the reflection wasn't entertained for long.

Lysander's own lips quirked in a lopsided pull. "Never is your word, Astra," came the correction. Of course, light enough to dodge sounding dramatic too. Who was to say where the line fell. Well, Lyrandar would survive without him there either way. "A lifetime might be ambitious. An afternoon, though? That could be arranged rather easily." Willingness hardly needed stating; Lysander imagined that was already well understood between them.

With one palm against the soil, his lithe frame tipped to one side, legs folding in a loose cross beneath him. "The archives on Jutrand could be worth seeing together someday. The Empress keeps forbidden texts there even you might find interesting." Little thought was given to what she meant by those needs beyond the offer itself. "If you find yourself needing something aboard my ship, I'd rather you assume the answer is yes."