Technicolor Cookies

[Naedira Darcrath]

Location: Geonosis [Golbah City]
Wearing: XXXXXXX
Tag: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Every day had its routine. Naedira was a creature of habit when she wasn’t required to attend to some sort of duty or mission objective. In early mornings she could be found taking a run through the already blisteringly-hot streets of Golbah City. By mid-afternoon, she would have returned home, or, would have slipped into one of the Obsidian Knight training facilities near the Citadel to shower and change. After that, lunch, and likely a holo-call to check in with her Apprentice.

A day off wasn’t the “Day Off” that was promised. More than anything, it was a chance for her to send Lucien all over Geonosis, on foot, so that he could learn the landscape of the Capital of the Confederacy. It was a massive, sprawling, titan of industry. It was easy to get lost. The Crown was safe enough, but, there were other areas that could be a little less user-friendly if certain circumstances aligned.

At the very least she had faith that he wouldn’t come back with too many holes.

Turning, slightly, she glanced over her shoulder to look at her second charge while she ran at a steady pace. Technically, since his citizenship had passed, he was her partner. Not her ward. “Keep up Centaris. We have a lot left to do today and we need to be sure you’re fit for the field…”

Sometimes, one might think, she didn’t know the man’s first name. She did, but preferred not to mention it so that she could retain a certain level of professionalism. Her use of a surname only enhanced that walls of indifference she had placed between herself and others. Naedira had, in a lapse of judgment, let them down once…Never would that happen again. It might have been an over-correction. But, it was still correct.

A group of young knights-to-be ran past them in a group, training together, rather than in pairs. Their movements were all precise and uniform. A small smirk dotted the corner of pale lips before she reached up to wipe her face with a thin towel that she kept hooked on a nylon belt. “The younglings are putting you to shame.”, she teased, before picking up the pace once again, as if it weren’t a million degrees. “You should also increase your protein intake. You can’t blame not eating right on Eshan forever.”

Today would be filled with a change to her rather predictable scheduler. Instead of spending time alone, with the company of music, or a droid, she would be entertaining a former-bucket head. Perhaps the Dominus was still punishing her for her indiscretions with a member of a Viceroyalty. Perhaps he just had faith in her ability to whip anyone and anything into shape. Naedira didn’t bother questioning which because it still wouldn’t change what was slated to happen.

“After this, we’ll go back through the training facility on the south side of the Crown. There are plenty of weapons to look over there, some, that might interest you. We also need to register your scimitar so think of a name that isn’t too awful.”

Having a partner in the Knights was different than being assigned an Apprentice. Essentially, they would need to depend on one another, and trust each other, as the Dominus would use their combined strength as he saw fit. They had at least two more blocks to go before they could slow their pace and a walk out a nice leisurely cool down. “Oh—and don’t chug water when we stop. Sip it. Hydrating too fast in this heat will make you toss some seriously technicolor cookies.”

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Location: Golbah City, Geonosis
Wearing: xxxxxxxx
Tag: [member="Naedira Darcrath"]

Several times he had encountered this woman, and each time she seemed more talkative than the last. Alkor learned long ago to watch, listen, and look for more than others gave him at face value. Naedira seemed to have nothing to hide in that regard. Openly critical of everything and willing to cross wires, she was the type of spitfire Alkor found hardest to handle.

He had never been a social person, and the swiftness with which she broached distant familiarity instantly soured his mood. Up to this point, he tolerated it because it only happened in small doses. Now they were practically stuck together.

Without several kilos of armor weighing him down, the former Warmaster moved at a decent pace. Decent enough for him, at least. The Nabeen woman seemed to think differently. "You have your pace," he called back between measured breaths, "I'll thank you to let me keep mine."

Golbah was hot that time of day. He might have started earlier, or even later, but this woman was adamant that they stick to a schedule. He watched the younger knights scurry past, all together and synchronized. It was a far cry from what he was used to. Mandalorians marched to the beat of their own drums, and even though they banned together in battle, they rarely got along when it came to anything else. It wasn't rank and file by any means.

Now he had to learn to be part of something uniform and tediously constructed, and the culture shock was evident.

When she mentioned his eating habits, he cringed visibly. Was she supposed to be his surrogate mother? Cardinal never mentioned that the woman would be examining his lifestyle or habits, but then, he had asked to be treated the same as any other Knight. Perhaps this was just protocol. He let it roll off like the sweat pouring down his back.

"I'll defer to your judgment, then," he finally managed to say. When all else failed, the path of least resistance generally won the day when it came to dealing with others. Alkor found they were usually not fond of his opinions, anyway. He picked up his pace just enough to match her as they rounded a corner and were promptly blasted by direct sunlight.

The next two blocks were akin to hellfire, but in spite of himself the Dark Jedi increased his output yet again and broke into a dead sprint. If she was going to push him, it was only fair he demand no less from her. Geonosis be damned, the heat wasn't going to beat him and neither was this woman.

He pulled a packet of water from his pants when he finally slowed down and turned to walk backward, facing her. "I have experience with extreme temperatures, Knight Darcrath," he assured her, "you don't need to worry about me flushing my liver."

With that, he took a sip of the water that had grown hot during the day's exercise. It tasted terrible, but he seemed not to care. He let some pour down his neck and chest and was rewarded with a cool sensation.

He muttered something to himself about Isley's terrible taste in locations before he spoke up again. "So, we're heading... that way?" It was easy to get lost in a massive city, especially one as unfamiliar as Golbah. Alkor stretched his arms back behind his head, revealing the bandages that covered his arms. The burns had dried out his flesh and he still felt no relief, even with the gel they administered daily to soothe the heat. He never once complained about the discomfort.

"I don't know about you, but I could go for a drink."

 

[Naedira Darcrath]

Location: Geonosis [Golbah City]
Wearing: XXXXXXX
Tag: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

“Your pace is that of a snail.”

Naedira had a sharp wit. Beyond that, a sharper tongue. She had grown up in the peaceful rolling hills and valleys of green that belonged only to Naboo. Her life had been perfect. She didn’t have abusive parents, she hadn’t been orphaned, and she hadn’t grown up on the streets. Her mother had chosen to wed a black sheep in the political sphere, a dark-side practitioner of the arts, but it had never really affected her upbringing. In all honesty—she hadn’t known.

What turned her away from the gentle life of a scholar was the subsequent loss of her husband. From that came her affinity for the Force. From that, came her need for order, and for vengeance. Naedira handled everything by the book. Her off the cuff remarks came freely, if only, because it kept things moving. Her coworkers weren’t shocked when she spoke her mind. Nor, were they shocked when she started calling shots. Her record was clear, aside, from a minor nuance.

A nuance that she would very much like to forget, despite, the fact that the Dominus kept reminding her.

Poor, Centaris. He seemed almost like a fish out of water from time to time. She had noticed it in his expressions, but more than anything, the lack of commentary. Some people weren’t social. Naedira was and she wasn’t. When she was on duty? On assignment? She remained engaged. When she was minding her own and free from obligation? She was different. The confidence of her professional life did not necessarily bleed into her personal life.

“I’m just giving you chit. Relax, Centaris.”

He did the opposite and broke out into a little sprint to carry himself to the finish line. Naedira swallowed a grin, dark eyes shifting, but didn’t respond. She liked seeing him push himself, even if, it was only to defy her. The dark-haired woman hadn’t worked with too many Mandalorians before. She hadn’t really worked with too many of the Vicelord’s family members either, but, she had played overwatch for them on numerous accounts.

Those missions never turned out how they were supposed to.

The much taller man doused himself with water when they finally stopped and she could only roll her eyes heavenward. Cute. “Yeah. We can cross through the new park that got put up in the square. It’s shorter than going around it…”, she trailed off, momentarily, catching sight of his bandages. The young woman didn’t exactly understand what his connection to the Force did to him but it was exceedingly obvious that their healers hadn’t been able to work their magic. He really still was on the mend.

Maybe she shouldn’t work him so hard?

Her nose scrunched, briefly, before she decided a thorough “nah” to answer that thought. He was a bucket-head. A Verd. Or Vi’Dreya, depending on the day, thusly, he would manage. It was better to get him into the thick of it as sooner than later lest he discover issues with idle hands. Some men were bred to fight, bred for war, and she had a feeling he was one of them. Leaving him without purpose felt like a mistake. Even if he was still injured. “You just dumped your drink over your head.”

She knew what he meant, however, she chose to be cheeky about it. Everything for her remained on the surface. Naedira moved past him fluidly, quietly, and continued walking toward the new cooling zone. Golbah City was full of them. Areas where the people could escape the heat with shade and often recycling water fountains. There was actually a little green there. Hardy plants with desert flowers that could survive without taking up too many resources.

Naedira liked it, secretly, because it reminded her of home.

She walked passed a group of younglings throwing water at each other. Her ponytail swayed to and fro though she walked along the edge of the area, just to catch the mist, but not enough to get drenched. It was one of the small things that she found she enjoyed, aside from the bazaar, where people watching was a guilty pleasure. She loved watching people try and haggle. No idea why.

Happy laughter rang in her ears and chestnut eyes, briefly, lingered on the cheerful people. They grew distant before her eyes returned to the path. “Golbah City is…Nice. Sometimes. It’s just different. Everything is clean and clear in this sector. The others aren’t shabby or anything like but the people can be different. The scenery can be a lot more hectic. Especially in the Hub.”

"There's been reports of crime in the Sprawl, but usually, we handle it. Some organizations are just hard to catch."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Location: Golbah City
Tags: [member="Naedira Darcrath"]

It was easy to ignore jabs at his person. Alkor never rose to that kind of provocation, but he did find annoyance in how the woman conducted herself. Was it professional, or was that just a cultural difference between denizens of the Confederacy and people outside? To be fair, Alkor had precious little experience with cultures, societies, and people to begin with. He never tried to complicate it with more thought than he believed it required.

Instead, he focused on the things that actually mattered. When she got to a point that furthered their pursuits and drew them closer to the end goal, he responded less rigidly. She was starting to recognize that fact, too. He noticed.

"Relaxing isn't my strong suit," he answered honestly without bothering to glance in her direction. The skyline was rife with speeders and bright, shining lights. It was almost like the Blue Light district back in Coronet City, only it seemed more pristine than the ugly Metropolis-turned-drydocks of Corellia. "Maybe after we're finished here, I can find a bottle or two of ale."

He wondered if the woman pitied him absently. She was difficult to read- but then, he wasn't facing her in a fight. Talking to people had always been a forbidden art for him. Darcrath seemed like someone who had nothing to hide, except for the things she felt no one needed to know. One of those mysterious people who said many things but gave nothing away.

If the Dominus had chosen her, there must have been a reason. Perhaps it was to extract information, or to test his patience. He smirked to himself at that possibility.

When he entered the cooling zone behind her, a chill washed over him. The air, intended to take the edge off of desert heat, was almost Alpine combined with the water he'd poured over his head. He didn't seem to notice his reflexive shiver. Much of his nervous system was frayed after so many battles. Pain was so familiar, he just ignored it.

He folded his arms as she spoke again, azure eyes locked on the horizon. "It's not like anything I'm used to," he admitted. The rustic, undeveloped Keldabe and the dirty, yet urban Coronet City were nothing like Golbah. It was a testament to the Confederacy being a technological superpower. Even the Spires of Harnaidan were less grand by comparison, even with the considerable wealth of the Muun. "I'll be sure to get a good feel for the layout."

He took a moment to adjust the bandages on his arms and administer a quick series of injections of the aloe-kolto flush into the afflicted areas, seeking a short reprieve from the lingering burns. They had offered him several options long term, but he still resisted. He hated the idea of having any sort of machinery or artificial flesh on his person, despite how it might improve his situation.

If she managed to see his exposed skin, it was blackened and sloughing off in some areas, pink and deep red in others. Some of it looked normal, if off-colored from the rest of his body. "Ready when you are," he said at last when he stowed the medicine.