Private Subtle Movements

[Naniti]

"They say there are more games of Chess than there are grains of sand." Naniti picked up a piece and moved it on the board. "Of course, they count the games no one would ever play. And it doesn't take into consideration knowing your opponent."

A man in his sixties sat across from the Togruta dressed in Alderaan finery. The movement of his hand was slow and practiced rather than rushed to action by the woman's moves. "And you think this significantly reduces the probable moves an opponent will make?"

"Even battlefield commanders have preferred strategies. Moves that have worked time and time again." She placed another piece. "It also helps when you know which one they'll pick before they do."

A soft grunted accompanied her statement. "Such a skill would make the game less interesting to play. Victory would be as hollow as defeat."

Bright blue eyes met dark rings for a moment. "Not when the board is a mile wide yet the pieces remain the same." Gave her a migraine just thinking about it. "And the stakes have never been higher."

"No," he rumbled, "they have not. It is about time, isn't it? We can resume the game next time." Recalling the placement of the pieces wouldn't be difficult. Naniti had an appointment to keep; she'd made it clear at the on-set. Whether the Sith was somehow reading his mind and anticipation his actions or not, the game was challenging enough to warrant a continuation another time. If anything, he'd have to try and discern whether she spoke the truth... and how one went about doing that.

With a nod, the violet woman stood to her feet.

They'd been playing in one of Alderaan's large parks. Where she needed to be next was deeper in along the green fields, but within walking distance. It was an opportunity to meet up with Lysander von Ascania for something less formal. Always better when it didn't involve butchering people. Plenty of that to go around; a little time alone to kick back and relax didn't hurt. They'd earned it.

Dressed in white, she observed the way the people seemed at ease. They were good at hiding it or hadn't quite realized what was afoot. Whatever the case, it made her life easier. Better atmosphere than Coruscant where everyone was trying to undercut one another for positioning and favor. Naniti would prefer the sequence of events not follow the path where the planet was set on fire as well. Not to spare the people, of course. Who cared about them? It was a nice planet. Not packed full of people, full of sand or industry... Covenant could do with a place that was drowning in war. Not that the Covenant's leaders were the sort to want a mansion overlooking pristine forests.

She hoped Lysander had something special in mind today. On the other hand, Naniti would be fine with just a stroll in the woods with him. Not that she'd tell him that so he didn't pamper her a little. Man knew a thing or two about being romantic; all she had to do was give him the opportunity to show it.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

He'd been on the move so much lately that the Core worlds blurred into Mid Rim territories, faces on Bonadan with Acier now beginning to fade from memory; the personal quarters aboard his transport freighter were becoming a most familiar dwelling. Movement was great, as it kept his mind alert in many ways. But beneath that practical justification, there was another truth Lysander acknowledged. He'd been craving stillness. Morning drills and an hour of meditation could only scratch so much. In truth, for all his academic understanding of political science, capable of reciting most things verbatim, he was still young in the arena where theories met practice. Unsurprisingly, the galaxy's reality proved much messier beyond what one might read in texts. And it didn't prepare him for the hunger of wanting something more authentic lately.

Alderaan had drawn the Covenant's eye for months now, and was weighing on his own mind. Of course, he understood their interest. There were bloodlines they intended to purge, and the planet's position was just at the edge of their influence. Perfect for solidifying power before expansion. 'Point Emissary' also seemed inadequate for what was pressing on the shoulders. Directives came more personally. Advancement some might say, others, a warning.

All of which was why he carved out space for Naniti in this forest amid galactic strife. A small sanctuary for connection. The spot was scouted at dawn. It was nice to have someone he could just let his thoughts breathe, or observations that were too nuanced for most to grasp. Lysander found himself anticipating their meeting differently than other times. No compulsive checking of his datapad. Instead, there was just certainty that she could come, and for a time, they could just be themselves. The rarity of such a gift wasn't lost on him either.

A dark Alderaanian wool blanket was unrolled, costing him an hour of bartering in a district near the palace. Souvenirs weren't something he collected, but today demanded an exception. Beside him was a case, but not some gaudy basket one might picture in holodramas. This was more compact, something of a field kit he'd used before, carried from his days in the Order. It even opened with a click he trusted more than any Sith's spoken oath.

He was in the middle of setting out the tea, hand smoothing a crease, when she appeared at the edges of his vision. Without haste, he rose. A deep olive tunic, fitted trousers, and worn boots made up his ensemble; a nice departure from the black their kind always favored. His attention was hers, waiting for the Torgruta to close the final distance.

A smile lifted his lips. "Taking the scenic route, I see," the words carried a lighter tone than usual. "I worried you might have better things to do today.. or perhaps even found more exciting company than mine." Amusement surfaced in his gaze. He'd always been a terrible actor in her presence. "Glad to see I was wrong."

 

[Naniti]

The Togruta stopped before Lysander and tilted her head to the side, her bright blue eyes gazing up from beneath her brow at him. "Better things? Exciting company?" Naniti echoed. She straigthened up and stepped in closer to embrace him. "Don't be such a nerf herder. You know I'd violate an order to find you." Just what amusing thoughts did he have rolling about in his head she might prioritize above him?

A Cosmic Engine in dire need of repair, perhaps, but she wasn't any closer finding out where that was hidden or how to access it. That was beside the point.

She peeked around him at the setup. "Expecting company?" A smile followed suit as if he hadn't already insinuated her presence was expected. "Shame they don't teach good taste in the Academy." All those young Sith running around trying to kill one another. Not that she was complaining, but it wouldn't kill them if they learned some manners for moments like this. Naniti was a bit spoiled with Lysander's affections.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

"Nerf herder," Lysander repeated, mostly to himself. “I'll remind you of that the next time you need someone to recalibrate your ship's entire navigation system at three in the morning."

The smile never left his face. "An order. Which order?" As if the distinction mattered.. and as if he wasn’t already anticipating what came next.

Arms slipped around her the way they always did.. effortless, like that was where they belonged. A cheek came to rest against the crown of her montrals, and somewhere in the warmth of it all, eyes fluttered shut. Just a body trying to relax in a way it hadn't in weeks. A soft laugh unfurled in the air too, savoring just a moment longer before letting go.

"Just the galaxy's most stubborn Togruta,” he murmured, gaze dropped to the white she wore, the very shade chosen back on Ilum. That day was still untouched, even after all the bloodshed that followed. "You're right. They really failed you in particular.” A small lift of the eyes came to rest in hers. "That’s a dangerous color on you, Naniti. Blatantly careless."

Easing back a step, he nodded toward the blanket. “Come. Before the tea cools, and I have to pretend I meant it that way."

Lowering himself, he poured her cup first. Only after he set it within her reach did he glance back up. “If it tastes awful, lie to me. I’ve had a long week.”

 

[Naniti]

"Any order." Of course, Lysander was a man of influence and had missions to do, but Naniti had her limits. The Covenant wasn't a well-ordered Empire with an Empress dictating every move. So, orders only had so much authority behind them. If Lysander was gone too long for whatever the mission was she was totally tracking him down. Not like she could expect anyone else to care -- especially those in lower standing.

The Togruta smiled when he drew in and embraced her. It was nice not wondering if it was just a prelude to an assassination attempt.

The smile dropped as her brow furrowed with his comment. "What?" Failed her in particular? "Careless?" How was it careless? What a haughty princeling he was. When he eased back it gave her a chance to knuckle his side. Not hard, of course; she wasn't trying to injure him. But enough he'd know it had been intentional, and not an accidental brushing.

"A long week? Harass anyone I know?" Naniti lifted the cup up and made sure it was cool enough to drink. Then she'd take a sip. Her blue eyes lifted afterward and a smile returned. "You really shouldn't tell a woman to lie to you beforehand, Lysander. Now you won't know if this is the best tea I've ever had." A chuckle followed. "Alright, but what happened? Are you getting enough rest?" Even a warrior needed sleep to remain truly effective.

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

The Sith rubbed the spot she knuckled before pouring his own cup; a laugh was huffed with the shake of his head. "I should know better by now than to give you that kind of advantage." Even if she fibbed, he'd probably still believe every word without question. Leaning in just a touch, his voice dropped. "And anyway, you're too far away to lie to me properly."

He tapped his chin in contemplation. "Harass? No. Only one person has assaulted me today."

The Togruta, ever sharp, rarely missed an opening to dissect his words for sport, one of the things he'd come to enjoy about her. Always like a loth-cat spotting a twitching tail to pounce. Finally, an opportunity to turn that little game back in his favor. So, with a sly raise of his brows, Lysander challenged. "Define 'rest' for me. Because if you mean lying down, not remotely. If you mean this.. yeah, it's close."

And on a softer exhale, "The Covenant needs me everywhere at once. I'm fine, though." Not that he minded being everyone's problem.

After taking a slow and calming sip, he nudged the pot in her direction. "I've never been good at slowing down. But.. I'm trying. Moments like this help."

One small containers next him was opened. Inside were skewered grilled pieces; not what he'd imagined in the sense of a traditional picnic, but of course adjusting was second nature for the blonde. Naniti was a carnivore; anything else might've landed him in real trouble. The container was set between them, steam curling upward before placing it closer to her side. "Here," Lysander murmured. "It's better warm."

The seasoning echoed their night on Byss, with a few small distinctions; she deserved better than. With his other hand, he unfolded a second tray.. plush breads wrapped in cloth, something mild to hold its own against those stronger flavors.

 

[Naniti]

"So, my lips should brush your ear when I lie?" Naniti found the idea of being too far away to lie properly amusing. Lysander could be such a tease when he wasn't swept up in the business of running the galaxy. Shame people required so much hand-holding -- and not the sort Naniti was accustomed to with Lysander.

The Togruta squinted at Lysander for a moment. He wasn't getting enough sleep, but he was having picnics all the time? "Really? Anyone I know?" Her voice was still warm, but the Dark Side stirred. It wasn't a raging fire. More of a deceptively placid bowl of pure, heated water ready to explode if jarred the wrong way.

His serious response was appropriate disarming though. A sharp nod followed his exhalation. "You know I'm there where you need me, Lys." Being the center of attention was nice, but one person couldn't do everything forever. Maybe he could share the load for a bit. Then shoulder it alone. Spread it again. Find opportunities for breathers so he didn't snap mentally. Dark Side usage didn't reinforce one mentally; if constantly tried to tear it apart all in the grand pursuit of growing stronger, of course. Lysander knew that. Their little trip on Korriban showed as much.

With a soft snort about his efforts to slow down, Naniti reached out to retrieve the pot and pour a cup.

Blue eyes widened when Lysander removed the lid on the first container. She could smell it straight away, and it smelt good. "Ah. Oh." Seated there atop a warm blanket with him and a savory meal without anyone around to interrupt really was, "Amazing, Lys. That's why you wanted to be in the kitchen on Byss." He did have a knack for cooking. Probably better than her given herbs and spices were relatively new to her repertoire.

Naniti carefully retrieved a skewer and lifted it before them. Offering him to take a bite first might be insulting -- insinuating he might have poisoned it -- but there was no need to eat alone. "Together?" Opposite sides of the same chunk. That was... romantic, right?

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti
​

Mischievous warmth curled along Lysander's smile, a crooked arc. An audible bubble of laughter nestled in his chest. Who would have thought that tossing aside decorum could feel so foreign, yet so thrilling? Beneath the teasing surface, her riposte sparked a gentle fire. Such predictability, he realized, but.. he wouldn't have it any other way. Soft exhalation through his nose punctuated as fingers tapped once against the rim of his cup. "If that's your chosen high ground," came the retort, "I wouldn't dare deny you the view." No doubt she already knew that foolery was as natural to the Emissary as breath.

Alderaan's serene terrain deepened as he leaned back, arching a single eyebrow, notes of mirth dancing in the corners of his gaze. "Knowing," he mused with challenge, "depends entirely on your definition." Half truths and layered meanings was a dance he was more than willing to partake in amidst the afternoon.

Cupped between his palms, the porcelain vessel radiated warmth, heat seeping into the hollows at his core where recent spirals of self doubt took root. Little whispers of not deserving someone like the Togruta clashed with the fierce pull of gratitude. "I believe you, Naniti." The nod that followed was grateful; his fingers tightened around the vessel as he exhaled once more, softer than before. "I don't miss Desevro.. but I do miss us on Desevro." Memories of training drills and Life Day celebrations tugged at him. Simpler times when sneaking moments side by side needed no excuse.

"Seems we don't cross paths as often now." Credits solved many things, and climbing the ranks was a journey itself. Lysander's silver tongue was hardly a secret in the Covenant; he could woo a womprat if he set his mind to it. Still.. charm came with limits; it didn't always bridge distance.

Through it all, appreciation grounded him, like a muscle he was learning to exercise again. Delight painted across violet features became its own reward. There was always something deeply good about giving to her in return.

Sunlight filtered through towering birch trees, painting dappled mosaics on the blanket. As he reached out, his fingers lightly brushed hers, steadying the skewer between them. "Together," he whispered, gentle as the Alderaanian breeze. Leaning in, he accepted the offered morsel. One thing he'd learned over their time together was that closer proximity always tasted better than spices and status.

 

[Naniti]

Deceit came as naturally to the Sith as rage, Naniti knew. It was how things worked. Isolation wasn't some to be avoided, but embraced. So said the Traditionalist. And, perhaps, they were right if all there were was the acquisition of power. A strength torn from the secret holds of the universe to be plied as one willed. But that too was a deceit wasn't it?

The Force shall set me free.

The Togruta sat across from Lysander, her blue eyes held on him as he responded. So, which was it? Was she deceiving herself to think this was all real? That he cared for her and would never leave? He accepted her as she was and wouldn't try to use her for his own advantage. Or, was the fear of being alone ago with only her far-off vision left to give her guidance through a cold and worthless galaxy?

Her smile broadened a hair at Lysander saying 'knowing' depended on the definition. Was that a coy reference to her cheating? It had to be. He wasn't playing a Jedi word game where 'one never truly knows their self.' Probably not, anyway. It was nice having a little puzzle to just hold in the moment.

A chuckle accompanied Lysander reminiscing about Desevro. "The price of success," she murmured before she took a long, silent sip. "If you succeed in your latest venture, I could give you stock tips." A smile dawned over the rim of the cup in her hands.

Then she set the cup down. "I do miss spending more time with you, Lysander." A sharp snort punctuated the moment. "They aren't going to reward us for herding influencers and maintaining order unless it makes the holonet news." Usually in the form of something exploding or being destroyed. Was what Lysander and her doing in the shadows even worth the effort? Naniti wouldn't have probably bothered if he hadn't seemed interested in making the Covenant more than a band of warlords throwing bombs at one another.

Lysander reached out to join in holding the skewer between them in acceptance of her offer. Naniti smiled. She leaned in to take a bite at the same time.

Other Sith Lords would say they were living a lie. They were just jealous.

Carefully, the violet woman shifted closer atop the picnic blanket so they weren't so far apart. "You know, I could stalk you more often, if you'd like."

Lysander von Ascania

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Naniti​

The seasoning from the nibble was zingy, so he chased it with a soothing sip of the tea. The flavor was washed away, leaving his palate fresh. Lysander scooched forward on the blanket until their knees hovered just inches apart. The stock tips line replayed in his head; no surprise there, considering there was a corporate itch he could never quite shake. Sure, physical exertion was a staple, and of course a good Sith loved when the melee got the blood pumping; plenty of sentients in the galaxy would benefit from being punched in the jaw. But playing the markets the way one might a battlefield, financial warfare? That was a mental stimulation found impossible to resist.

He angled the cup in Naniti's direction, voice soft and warm. "If?" A small smile of his own tugged at the mouth. "Hm. More like when." One day, Bogan willing, all his endeavors behind the Black Wall would finally pay off in spades. And glittering credits.

Hopefully he wasn't overdoing it with the wordplay, or maybe she could just see it for what it was: himself just being ridiculously happy when she was around. Meditation could only achieve so much. "I heard Alderaanian biotech is about to explode. You might want to double down your credits before the quarter ends." Tips were nice, so was someone who actually listened when he talked about these things, even if a picnic wasn't meant to be another boardroom. Not that he was planning to turn their time together into market ramblings.

The cup was placed aside as he curled in a cozy ball, loosely hugging his knees, while his mind tried flicking through everything on it. He stole a curious peek with another small smile, before looking away, then crashing back into the Togruta's gaze. "You can stalk me more if you want. I mean.. yeah. I'm actually not that hard to find." He huffed a soft laugh after. Very smooth for the Point Emissary. So much for refining his words. Hide from her? Not a chance. He might pretend not to see her coming, just to save face. Or leave breadcrumbs.. or raw chunks of meat.. see if her carnivore instincts kicked in. Like tracking a wounded nerf or something. "If you're investing your attention in me.. I'll totally match it. With interest, too."

The blonde shifted just enough to rest more of his cheek against his knee, exhaling a little puff. "You're.. kind of the only investment I actually care about." The Covenant was important too, he guessed, just filed under a different category.