Theed is Full of Surprises

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Naboo's beauty could truly only be appreciated when one had not seen such in beforehand. The lush forests and roaring rivers were a stark contrast to the blazing suns of Gratos. Where dust and broken souls inhabited the Graug world, aristocrats and green hills filled Naboo.

The planet was his homeworld by blood, and Graxin was not going to complain. He had taken to the planet to see his mother, and to learn from her. The teachings he had received in the healing of physical wounds were molding him into what he hoped was a good man. One could only live with a blood debt to the galaxy for so long without feeling the need to pay some form of recompense.

He had recently left the hospital as the hour of twilight fell. The golden light of an afternoon wrapped Theed in a warm embrace and cast long shadows across the tan walkways. Graxin's own temporary apartment hung on the edge of the city. He walked with purpose; head held high, deep blue cloak billowing out behind him. he wore a light set of durasteel plates that shone bright in the sun when the robe shifted. His beard was short and well groomed, and his amber eyes were narrowed in deep concentration.

His next move was unplanned. The Force had carved out his path for him. As he approached his two story building just next to one of Theed's many waterfalls, he pondered the question.

What was his purpose now?

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

The scowl on Elora's face made it all too clear that she was not happy to be here. After her little adventure on Nar Shaddaa, she had developed a certain wanderlust, and wished to see more of the galaxy before returning to the one who thought of herself as her master. The woman had promised her the galaxy, but so far it seemed like Elora was going to have to take every piece of it by herself. Not a scary thought, but there was more than a little annoyance involved as well.

There was little she knew about the worlds offered in the 'verse though. Naboo had been chosen because of its stupid name, causing the child to believe it was filed with stupid people. Stupid people usually liked pretty places. And while this planet seemed pretty enough, there was none of that breathtaking effect she had seen on the smuggler's moon. All in all, it mostly seemed like people had been too lazy to properly develop it, and some sub-par architect had placed random buildings in the hopes of not needing to calculate how nature was to be disturbed and not at the same time.

But worst of all was the smell. By the time Elora realized she had taken herself to a place that simply reeked of Jedi, it was too late to turn around. Lacking a proper weapon as well as proper training in the use of her birthright, control of the Force, had made it impossible to kill the crew and take the pilot seat over. This was how she came to be on the Jedi planet, herself being a child of of the Darkness, the scion of several powerfull Sith blood lines that had not scrimped out on her creation.

And now she was here, unhappy forever more.


[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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...In contrast, Graxin was fairly content. He was a beacon of the light side at this point. Once the heir to the Sith Empire and Krag's closest adviser, leader of the Graug under his father, and the butcher of Telos, was now an anonymous Jedi. The irony of his current position was not foreign to him--it often brought him grim humor.

This made him all the more attuned to that odd little specter he felt. He came to a sharp halt right outside the doorway of his apartment. The presence he felt was not unlike his former Apprentice; a little Mirialian girl who had run off to the Levantine Sanctum when the New Order gave out the order for his execution. It also resembled that of the assassins sent after him, and that terrified him.

A hand drifted down to caress the leatherbound hilt belonging to one of his lightsabers. He head tilted to the right, and his amber eyes drifted across the road. He saw no one. That wasn't uncommon at this hour, but the possibility of an intruder could not be dismissed so easily. Graxin slowly backed away from the door, lips pressed into a thin line.

"If you've come for a fight I'm afraid you'll be disappointed. I'm rather boring, I prefer talking to swinging the glowbats." He called out with a sharp; albeit humorous tone. He turned fully around, back to his door, eyes drifting over every stretch of road.

What was this odd presence he felt?

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Elora rolled her eyes as she sidesteps out of the shadows. Well, not really shadows.More like shade, as she had no wishes to be in direct sunlight. She had spent too long in the darkness for the rays to be comfortable to her eyes, though she assumed that with time, she would adapt.

"I do not think a fight would be enjoyably," she said. Her voice was the perfect mixture - that childish innocence on one hand, and the darkness that was her existence on the other one, "not for you, anyway," she added quickly. There was no need to tell anyone that she had never as much as lifted a finger in battle, unless grabbing her father's thumbs and nose as a baby counted.

Permitting the Darkside to flow from every pore in her body, the child looked at the man, the emerald green of her eyes glowing even in the Naboonian sun. "And we have nothing to say to each other."

[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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Graxin just blinked. Such an odd presence from a young child. How could a creature so young be so....he had no words. The eyes did, however, give him some semblance of an idea. He privately concluded that he had stumbled on a Sithspawn. It was the only logical explanation that the Knight could come up with.

That, and he found himself fighting back a laugh. Was the little one threatening him? "Feisty, aren't we?" He asked, a brow raised. He slipped his arms over his chest, and leaned his weight back on the doorway. Something told him leaving the child to her own designs might not be the best of ideas. "If we have no business, then you wouldn't be here, would you? I'm the only Jedi in Theed, and you're clearly above the average child. I'd say it's the will of the force."

Graxin nodded for some form of emphasis. He had learned to trust in the force more so than his own rationality. It had brought him to his family once more. It had helped him slay his father, and now, it seemed that it had brought him to this child.

Or it was all odd chance.

"Lost?"

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

The child narrowed her eyes. "Merely misplaced," she said with a stiff voice. She knew where she was, therefore, she was not lost. Simple as that. The only question though was how to get out of this miserable place.

"The Force has no will of its own," Elora said, the darkness bubbling in her voice, "the Force just is. Will of the Force is something to tell the sheep when one wants to make them think their lives serve a purpose when in fact... they do not."

She was tall for what she thought her physical age was meant to portray; a child of twelve, perhaps thirteen. It was difficult to tell. Yet child as she was, she was tall, about 5"2, and showed no signs of puberty other than a long and almost willowy body. She clasped her hands behind her back and took a few more steps towards the railing, keeping the distance between her and the Jedi even, always on her guard.

[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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Nostalgia was a very odd sensation to feel in a situation like this. Yet, it was all that he felt. The girl reminded him so much of himself, though perhaps a tad bit older than he was when he came to that conclusion. It was both concerning and heartening at the same time. A very odd concoction of emotions indeed.

"I used to think like that too, when I was your age. Up until recently, actually." Graxin murmured. He gave the girl a small slip of a smile. He was not particularly warm, nor was he unwelcoming either. Then, he did something a bit odd. He hooked a thumb in the collar of his tunic, and pulled it down far enough to reveal his collarbone. Odd scribblings had been burned into the skin. They were clearly carved with an unskilled and messy hand.

"Graug slave. Now, if you're misplaced...then why are you out here? Odd place for such a gifted child, to be."

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She did not smile back, nor did she seem particularly impressed with what he had to show her. All together, it seemed rather useless. What were those tattoos supposed to reveal or hide anyway? Nothing.

"This is where the hyperbus took me," she replied with simplicity, adding nothing about having no credits or anything a person needed that credits could acquire. It was none of his business anyway.

Her initial plan had been to catch the first hyperbus back to the smuggler's moon, but it was apparant that he was stalling her to the point where she would perhaps have to wait for the following day. everything now was just to kill time. "Gifted children go anywhere," Elora said, without missing that touch of hubris.

[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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He fell silent for a long moment. The child was guarded, or something like that. Was it really worth his time? She likely had parents waiting somewhere for her, anyway. "I've probably held you up then."

His head canted to the side, and his eyes narrowed partway. His gaze seemed to drift past the girl as much as he looked at her. There was something plain off about her. Was it truly wise to try and figure out what? "And my name is Graxin." He added quietly. The particular issue of her being stranded was a possibility, but he wasn't going to be one to ask about it.

"You're very closed, aren't you? I can sense something off from you." He pushed, and pushed off the wall. His gloved hands were shoved into his pockets, and the smile faltered. "Are you with the Sith? I'm only curious. You know full well that my opinions and questions wouldn't matter to one of their kind. I can see that much."


[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Graxin. Elora repeated the name several times in her mind, though she wasn't certain exactly why. Rules of etiquette demanded that she told him hers, but she had never been one for show me yours and I'll show you mine. Again she narrowed her eyes at his attempt to analyze her. She was not a droid to be dissected.

But when he made mention of the Sith, she burst into a laughter was almost childish. Almost.

"I am not a Sith," she said shortly thereafter, "I am born of darkness to bloodlines that have no rivals among the Force. Had the Guardian not put me to sleep for several centuries, I would now be revered as a deity across all the corners of the 'verse."

And though one could have easily thought the child was showing off - her speech showed otherwise. She was not boasting, from far it, but merely... Stating hard, cold, facts.

[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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He didn't necessarily not believe her. To outright deny her and dismiss her as an attention seeking child would by hypocritical. He had been designed for a similar purpose, though more as a servant, than a god. Still, the laughter she gave at his mention of the Sith did amuse him. It also posed yet another question; an odd one that tended to be Graxin's specialty.

"I don't doubt the possibility, but why would you want to be? A deity is above all other creatures. That's a very lonely life when all people do is worship you. Things would lose their value." He lectured. She certainly had not asked his opinion, but that was rather normal. His odd views on life were seen as eccentric by most.

"I'm afraid I've never heard of this Guardian either. Should I have?"

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

"Things are merely that," she answered with a shrug, "things." On her body were no possessions that marked wealth of any kind - her robes were simple, purposeful. No jewelry. Nothing that noted that credits had ever passed between those slender fingers.

Was it really wrong on top of the foodchain? Another laugh. Oh, how little were the sizes of his thoughts. Elora knew she never could or would be truly alone. Her back was supported not merely by good birth, but by the constant and annoying presence of all those who preceded her. She knew, instinctively, that the reason she was guarded by an ancestor and not by her parents, was that because her parents were alive.

The dead in her family, were never truly dead. They merely transformed into the very deities she had spoken about, and they made a loud point of meddling in everything. It was no secret to her how she had come to be, though the specifics of the physical aspect were something she was too young to intimately understand.

"She had a name, but she refused to reveal it to me," she said of the Guardian, "do not worry your precious head with that knowledge. You have lower existences to keep you useful company."

Yet without the Guardian around her, there were things, Elora was learning, that she was required to take care of herself. "Where does one feed around here?"

[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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Thank the force Graxin was a patient individual. He had issues with being talked down to stemming from his lifetime of servitude. He was no perfect Jedi. The desire to simply strangle the girl flared up, and it shocked him. Scared him, even. It quickly dissipated, but the feeling was a sharp reminder that he hadn't fully let go of the past. That would need to be remedied.

"Things are important. Not material items, but people, and feelings."He opened his mouth to speak more, but the words died in the back of his throat. It wasn't his place to lecture people. He had no right. "Food? There's a cafe down the road. Kind of a rough crowd now that the work shifts are over..."

Graxin fell silent for a moment. He stared daggers down at the ground, and gave a resigning grunt. "You have credits for food, right?

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Elora stared blankly at the man.

"Credits?"


[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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(That gave me a laugh. Ten points for you.)

Graxin raised an eyebrow. He had suspected as much.

"Credits are the currency in the majority of the galaxy...judging by your reaction you don't have any." He chewed on the inside of his cheek, and fought himself internally. Offering to help was the Jedi thing to do, but this could just be a front.

She could just want to kill him, or something. Then again, why should she? He wasn't important enough to warrant something like that anymore.

"....You can have my dinner, if you're hungry."

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

So that was what they were called. The child shrugged at the explanation. She saw no reason to pay for what could simply be taken. But it was apparent that this man had other thoughts.

What confused her though, was the offer to have his dinner. Did he not require nourishment as well? Giving her his dinner would be...

"I accept your offering," she said after a long pause, "what does your dinner consist of?"

[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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Graxin turned without a word. His fingers danced along the security pad, and the door hissed upward. Inside was a very sparse apartment. Two rooms broke off of the living room, the kitchen apparently connected to the latter at the back.

"I can only eat ration cubes. Trying to ween myself off of them, but it's difficult..." He mumbled distractedly. He turned partway to look at the girl, and sighed. "Nerf steak. It's really good, when I can keep it down. Do you want me to bring it out here?"

He gave the girl a questioning look. He didn't mind if she came inside, but he was a stranger in almost every regard. Asking her to come inside would be suspicious.

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

The child remained standing where she was. It was less of a don't go into strangers' homes thing, and more of a very judgmental look that appeared on her face as the insides of the house, at least insofar as she was able to sense, made her wrinkle her nose. It was not the furniture or the lack of taste, but rather... It smelled of Jedi.

And she did not like the smell.

However, she had no wish to let him know that she could not tell the difference between cubes and steak. At least, she knew generally, but she wasn't sure she'd ever had either. Her diet thus had been strictly plant based, to permit the security of her nearly-non-aging body at the desired pace of almost dead but not quite.

But if she had the steak... He would have to resort back to his cubes. The very ones he was trying to wean off from.

"I shall have the nerf steak," she said with a firm nod, still unmoving from her spot.


[member="Graxin Rade"]

 

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Graxin raised an eyebrow at the look she gave. It reminded him of a certain woman he had grown close with when serving the Emperor. It tied a knot around his heart unexpectedly, and his expression twisted into something of silent despair for the moment. He quickly washed it away, and replaced it with the small smile from before.

"Then have it you will." He wandered into the room. A bit of rummaging and produced a plate, and a cup filled with water. He heated the leftover steak quickly, and strolled back outside. The whole set of actions only took two or three minutes.

The steaming food was present with one hand, along with the cup. Graxin's smile remained, though it was smaller than before. "Do you want to eat out here, or in there? I just moved in; not much to sit on."

[member="Elora"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

She was used to letting years fly by; a few minutes were hardly something she felt. On the smuggler's moon she had once simply chosen to stand still for a few hours to see if she could. The answer was positive. And just as then, while [member="Graxin Rade"] busied himself with putting his offering to her together, she stood there unmoving, only her glowing eyes following his movements.

But now another dilemma presented itself; where to feed.

Without a word, the child stepped into the man's apartment, and sat herself down in what she supposed was meant to pose as a living room. For a heart beat, she seemed like a small and innocent child, sitting on that couch. But the moment passed quickly as her eyes returned to stare at Graxin, waiting for him to put her food in front of her.