Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction [TSC] WELCOME TO 1313 | OPEN

Iandre listened intently to Tatiana's explanation of how her people manipulated energy and matter, her eyes shimmering with a quiet curiosity at the intersection of their two worlds. When the woman finished, Iandre took a slow, deliberate sip from her glass, allowing the amber liquid to settle before she attempted to frame an answer for something so vast.

"It is a difficult question to answer simply," she admitted, her fingers resting lightly against the rim of the glass as she leaned back. "Not because the Force is a secret, but because the answer changes the longer you live with it."

She tilted her head, a soft, nostalgic warmth softening her features as she recalled the quiet meditation rooms of her youth.

"My earliest lessons weren't of power, but of patience. We were taught that the Force was not a tool to be owned or a weapon to be wielded; we were taught to listen to it first. As children, we sat for hours just learning awareness—feeling the life moving around us and the quiet currents beneath everything."

A faint hint of amusement touched her lips before her expression turned toward a more grounded humility.

"Only after we learned to listen did we learn to move stones or sense emotions. But the most important lesson was humility. No Jedi knows everything about the Force, and no one ever will. It is older and larger than any philosophy we could build around it. Even now, I am still a student, constantly unlearning and discovering."

She gave a small, graceful shrug, regarding Tatiana with genuine interest.

"We begin by admitting we do not fully understand it. Your people approaching it through the lens of science is a perspective the Jedi rarely consider in such mechanical terms."

She tilted her head again, a stray lock of dark hair shifting to reveal the graceful line of her neck.

"Do your people believe that through measurement and science, you will eventually achieve total precision over it?"

Tatiana Sah Tatiana Sah
 

Gillem

You're no daisy at all



GILLEM


Watching the way Riff had pulled out the gun made Gillem a bit…nervous to say the least, but his stoic attitude remained as his mechanical hand gently placed over the barrel to keep it pointed to the ground.

“Watch that barrel Riff, I’d like to keep this mug of mine.”

The rolled paper was offered to him and he plucked it from her small fingers without hesitation and drew a deep inhale after placing it on his lips. His lungs expanded taking in the smoke as he closed his eyes and enjoyed the feeling of weight being lifted from his shoulders. As he exhaled a sharp cough exited from his lungs as he pounded over his chest with his other hand.

“What the feth is that stuff?!”

It was far less smoother than what he was used to, the stuff he would home grow.

The feeling of his body felt lighter as his lungs developed a prickling sensation. His eye dilated as a wave of…something overcame him.

Riffraff asked him a question to which he delayed his response for a bit longer than he usually did answering with only a simple response.

“...hm?”

His body started to rock from side to side.

“I don’t shoot garbage.”

He gave her a confused look.


 


"It does?" Tatiana's brow rose a hair at Iandre's suggestion the answer concerning the Force could change over time the long one 'lived with it.' Perhaps it was a metaphorical way to explain finding deeper meanings and hidden facets over time?

Patience. Listening. Awareness. The blonde nodded in understanding. Yes, her time among Jedi had often included similar teachings. They were simple concepts, but Tatiana found them difficult to apply. How did listening help one wield a field of energy? And telekinesis came from listening? Now that was an interesting statement. Tatiana knew how to move a stone; did that mean she knew how to listen, but had overlooked the act of doing so?

Humility. A grand scope no one person could learn in its entirety. Her brow drew down over her slender nose as Tatiana fathomed the image Iandre was painting.

"Through thorough analysis and experimentation my people believe it is possible every question can be answered, and that we will reach a state of perfection words pale to describe." There was a lofty tone of aspiration to her voice, but it wasn't blind zealotry with a wild-eyed stare behind it. "Now that we are aware of the Force, they will strive to understand its laws and how best to utilize it with maximum efficiency and effectiveness."

How successful they would be would likely demand on people like Tatiana. Engaging outsiders seemed to generate all manner of curious and unique thoughts they took for granted. Perhaps, despite their great accomplishments, her people simple weren't... imaginative enough. Which was a strange thing to consider given the many constructs they'd built over the years that nothing in the galaxy rivaled. It truly was a shame so much had gotten left behind when their planet had been relocated.

"But some have suggested that wouldn't be possible. That the Force has a 'Will' of its own that might seek to elude efforts to quantify it. Do you believe that as well?"

Iandre Athlea Iandre Athlea


 


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Naniti nodded and tried to shift a little closer as Lysander spoke. Of course it'd been good. How could she complain? He'd done nothing but given her opportunities and humor her academic pursuits in addition to martial ones. Hadn't tried to dominate or belittle. The only thing she could fault was Lysander, perhaps, being too considerate. He didn't push about her past, or her abilities... Sometimes not about her feelings, but then there were days like this where his violet partner challenged him to get a response; and Lysander did respond.

"The less attention I draw, the easier it'll be for me to follow you to the ends of the galaxy," Naniti replied jovially. They viewed Lysander as indispensable and even as a student. Meanwhile, the Togruta was simply the curious woman that orbited the Prince. Who would notice if her assignment changed? Or that Naniti had a hand in making them change. Lysander could as well, but he was already tasked with so much responsibility. It afforded her the opportunity to 'meet' new people in places that might be useful again in the future too.

Slowly, she worked in closer to bump up alongside Lysander. "I'd like that. The two of us. We deserve it." The galaxy could manage without them for a little while. If it couldn't, it could burn, and they'd pick up the pieces afterward. Long as she had Lysander everyone else wasn't as important. "You are going to show me some of those less refined and elegant moves, right?" He'd been all kinds of regal in a ballroom, but Naniti wanted to know if he could cut loose in a less sophisticated setting.

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania


 
Iandre listened carefully as Tatiana spoke, her attention steady and thoughtful rather than dismissive. The conviction in the other woman's voice was unmistakable, not arrogance so much as a sincere belief in the power of knowledge and discovery.

When the question came, Iandre did not answer immediately.

Her fingers curled loosely around the rim of her glass as she took a slow sip, the pause suggesting she was weighing the words rather than searching for them. When she finally set the glass back down, her gaze returned to Tatiana with a quiet calm.

"I believe your people are not wrong to seek understanding," she began gently. "Curiosity and study have always been part of the Jedi tradition as well. We built libraries that spanned thousands of years of observation and recorded knowledge about the Force."

Her expression softened slightly with the memory.

"But even those archives never claimed to contain all of it."

She rested her hands together on the table.

"The Force behaves like a current that flows through everything. Life, matter, thought, time… it touches all of it. That makes it difficult to treat like a simple equation, because the variables are constantly changing."

Her head tilted slightly as she considered the phrasing.

"You can study the wind. Measure it, chart it, learn how to ride it. But no one truly commands the wind itself."

A faint smile touched her lips.

"The Jedi eventually came to see the Force in a similar way. We can learn how to move with it, listen to it, sometimes even guide its currents for a moment…but claiming mastery over it entirely tends to lead people into dangerous territory."

Her gaze remained steady but kind.

"As for whether it has a will…"

She paused again, this time not from uncertainty but from the weight of experience.

"I have felt moments where the Force seemed to push events toward a certain outcome. Small coincidences, warnings, instincts that arrive at exactly the right moment."

Her voice lowered slightly, thoughtful rather than mystical.

"Whether that is truly a will, or simply the natural harmony of countless living things influencing one another, I cannot say with certainty."

A soft breath escaped her.

"But after living with it for so long, I have learned one thing."

Her eyes met Tatiana's again.

"The Force rewards those who approach it with humility far more often than those who try to conquer it."

The hint of warmth returned to her expression.

"Your people may very well uncover truths the Jedi never considered. Knowledge has a way of expanding when different perspectives meet."

She tilted her head slightly.

"But if you ever reach the point where you believe you have completely solved the Force…"

A faint note of dry humor slipped into her voice.

"I would recommend double-checking your calculations."

Tatiana Sah Tatiana Sah
 


What was quite curious about the conversation was how much Jedi philosophy seemed to play a part. Tatiana had expected to encounter many Sith or Dark Sider users in her time on Coruscant. It was not the experience she'd come in search of, but she was not disappointed.

"We always double-check our calculations," Tatiana replied after Iandre finished speaking. Though, apparently, there could be multiple scientific principles at work with one being mistaken for another. Still, the math had checked out at the time.

"Would it be possible to visit the libraries you mentioned?" The blonde leaned forward with wide, blue eyes. "I could arrange for several of my people to visit. They could help catalogue the information there in the process of reviewing it." If they had that much information they might need help organizing it. A reason for them to accept the presence of outsiders. To think of how much they could glean from such repositories of information. Perhaps most of it would be too anecdotal or lacking sufficient detail as to how one manifested a certain ability, but there would be enough there to be worth the effort.

"There should be no concern about claiming dominion over a natural force of the universe. We are a very capable species, but you cannot own the wind -- as you put it." Though Tatiana was fairly confident they could be 'masters' as in exerting influence within a localized region. Reshaping all of reality was an absurd proposition... that they would examine, likely determine it required substantially far too much to contemplate, and plan on better applications of their time and resources.

Iandre Athlea Iandre Athlea


 

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TAG: Mercy Mercy Arris Windrun Arris Windrun Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin Reina Daival Reina Daival
LOCATION: Lawd, I have No Idea
____________________________________________________

"Enjoy looking while you can, Knave. Looks like your eyes might be Mother's next target."

If her sweet and inappropriately dressed daughter had chosen to artificially undo the damage that had been done to the face of the Coruscant Titan, it would have been her prerogative to do so. It was also the prerogative of the Sith Empress to haul off and break her face again, purely, to ensure that the lesson took. Spare the rod, spoil the child. Clawing out her eyes was a fair notion for the repeated transgressions, but it was an incorrect assessment. Srina frowned.

Quinn knew her better than that.

"I would likely seek to break bone."

The words were issued in a fashion that was entirely deadpan while she glanced down at Mercy Mercy as if it were not the removal of her eyes that Srina was casually discussing. There were about a dozen reasons that it wasn't her preferred point of destruction, though; she imagined that for the Warlord, it would have been incredibly annoying. Itchy—While they grew back. "The snap is satisfying, whereas the eyes are too gelatinous. Beyond that…Your sparring partner seems to heal away soft tissue injuries swiftly."

Sparring partner was code for whatever they did behind closed doors that Srina did not want to know anything about. Anymore, about. All that mattered was that swift healing devalued the reason her face had been caved in by a very pointy elbow. True to form, the Echani warrior had not caught on to the "banter" portion of this discussion and had responded with pure logic. It didn't help that her thoughts were drifting repeatedly, unnervingly, between past and present. She felt untethered.

Lost in time.

Every inhalation of air that brought with it the scent of sickeningly sweet copper just made it worse and the sensation of a large hard around her wrist only brought more. The arm pressed against her mouth while life poured back into her, the crackling of the phylactery, the ruby lightning in the sky that was Quinn Varanin Quinn Varanin raining down fear for all to witness. She could feel Mercy Mercy watching her closely and yet she could not feel anything else at all. Just bursts of anger. Bursts of light—

Death.

Yellow-gold eyes watched her daughter reach for her cheek to start cleaning the blood away, and her cheek turned into the soft touch on instinct. Even if these moments of lucid dreams kept pulling at her sanity, everything in her recognized Quinn, though some of her words were lost. Srina might have pulled the youngling into her arms to bury her face in her hair as if she were the only thing real in the universe, but…

An arm around her shoulders, possessive, tight—Pulling her into a warm wall that was really a person.

That too came with a price.

Memory.
Her containment of the hand-held super nova failed. The blast went off and the kinetic force and heat sent her careening head first into this same body. This same wall. She had felt her for two seconds before her head snapped against ruined stone and then—

Her containment failed. The blast went off. Sent her flying. Nothing.

Her containment failed. The blast went off. Sent her flying. Nothing.

Enough.
She breathed in slowly and it was almost like her head broke through the surface of some unknown lake. Everything that felt distant and muted came back, though, she had missed some of the dialogue that had taken place. Her ears had picked it up but her mind had doubled down on protecting itself rather than retaining information. The pale woman leaned into the warmth rather than away because it reminded her that Coruscant was in the past. It was not the present. She was not dead.

Her gaze settled back on her daughter, this time, with awareness though there was something in her that still seemed a touch off-kilter. Almost, as if she were in some sort of pain…But didn't understand it enough to acknowledge it. It didn't matter. She had an Empire to caretake and alliances to uphold regardless any personal upset. It came first, she came not second, but last. Even if she longed for a quiet evening and crunchy snacks (that she had not made) with holo-dramas she did not understand blaring in the background. She longed for time with the one who so openly called her "mama" without thinking. It was a balm to her soul...Just...Time.

There was never enough.

"I would return to Jutrand with you…", Srina trailed off, lightly, but her eyes had switched to the rather timely arrival of Arris Windrun Arris Windrun who looked more than a little harassed. "But suddenly…I have a feeling my evening is just beginning."

Her attention switched from Quinn to Reina Daival Reina Daival once more and silent eyes swept over the red-haired knight with no small amount of assessment. She was the reason that her child was in such a loathsome place? She breathed in once, sharp, but it softened almost immediately. She would have been a pot meeting a kettle for scolding someone that was only trying to make the little Queen of Eshan happy. She was just as guilty—And would likely, do it again.

Reina had such soft thoughts for Quinn. Gentle, poetic compliments. It was a little too much for the wintry woman to take in stride but she was able to glean genuine care from it. It was enough to make her relent on this "dung heap" of a venue that was making so much from Sith coin tonight.

At the very least, Reina, wasn't using her beloved daughter as a walking snack machine then complaining when she didn't get enough attention and social status.

"Not so fast little one…"

Yes. Her name was Reina…But the endearment wouldn't have any malice to it. Srina just hadn't caught the irritation to realize it was a correction. "I will be on Jutrand for the next fortnight after this evening…You will find me there if that is amenable. I will ensure that the Sepulchral expect you."

The death-walking creeps of the Eternalist religion could be ornery with how and with whom she spent her time. Mercy for example was not on their approved list, if only, because they considered her battle-sister a rival. The had a lot of expectations of an Empress and a lot of chains she reminded them, daily, that they would lose an arm if they kept trying to pull. She could not be bound or controlled and they felt incapable of doing their job because of how headstrong she was.

They were meant to advise.

Without her?


They were pretty much just watching a Holo Theater on mute.

"I am not always well-versed in reading a room, but…", her eyes lifted toward Mercy, now certain, given what she had mentioned about "leaving a date" plus Quinn mentioning "bringing her out" that leaving now would have been a breech of a social contract. Unspoken or otherwise. "Leaving during a date unless it is not going well seems to be poor form. Is it not, going well?"

She paused, once again, looking them both over…Ignoring any lingering guilt about being caught with their hands in the proverbial cookie jar. Srina lifted her sleeve and began to wipe away the rest of the crimson staining her face as if she had just realized Quinn hadn't gotten it all.

"If it is I would urge you to continue…I will be well, pitya min. I promise."
 
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She felt the strength of the titan around her wrist as her arm was grabbed. It took all of her willpower not to attempt to do more; if she did, the name of the club would fit. It was good for everyone involved that Srina had spoken; she eased the girl's thoughts and the turbulent emotions that coursed through her.

To hear that her Mother was okay, Quinn relaxed enough to look at Mercy. She was hurt; she was annoyed that the woman brought up the conquest of Coruscant. The only thing Quinn could remember was that she had felt her Mother gone. Then, to see her in the state she was in now, only brought the same concern and the same fear she had felt.

Srina had always been indestructible in the girl's eyes. But that day, that fight, Quinn realized her Mother was just as mortal as everyone else.

The sudden realization that Srina wouldn't always be there… terrified her.

All of those emotions welled in her eyes, but it was apparent Mercy didn't see that or didn't understand it.

Her voice was quiet, perhaps too quiet…

"Mercy… she's still my mother…"

Mercy's grip on her had released her attention onto the next shiny character that walked into the room. Quinn looked at Srina and understood what she was saying; they weren't going to go home together, and she wasn't going to get the reassurance her mind needed right now.
This was what it was like to be the daughter of a mother of a nation.

A feeling she hadn't felt in a long time, her mind only wandering briefly to her birth mother.

A hand brushed gently under her eyes as she forced a smile, one heavily practiced for moments like this.

"The date is wonderful, I had just wanted to come see you." She looked at Reina and quickly grasped her hand. The grounding comfort it brought was nice, especially now. It was their moment to leave, and Quinn nodded towards her Mother, "I'll be okay, but…" she didn't finish, her eyes flickering momentarily to the titan who had become the barrier between Quinn and her Mother.

She only smiled, then turned, pulling Reina with her. There was something in the way she leaned into the copper-haired woman that betrayed her intentions for the rest of the evening. She wanted to leave; she wanted to go somewhere else.

"Make me feel better…" She whispered as she leaned close towards Reina's ear.

In reality, she wanted to stop feeling the way she was feeling… she wanted, for just a moment, to forget.
 


"Just walk beside me." One corner of his mouth curved. "And if we happen to keep turning the same direction…" He affected a nonchalant shrug. "Then I suppose that's just a fortunate coincidence, isn't it?"

Of course, his mind still buzzed with all the logic he'd been spilling out. But now, he just let them slip into silence. Maybe tonight was better left uncluttered.

Somewhere between conversation and reflection, the bowl in his hands emptied. He set it aside atop a nearby crate.

Pleasant evenings like this didn't dull that ingrained awareness of the street's flow, and everything else that shaped Level 1313. Lysander draped an arm comfortably across Naniti's shoulders as they moved deeper through the maze of alleyways, making sure not to disturb her montrals and graceful cascade of her lekku. "You may discover I'm far more comfortable thinking a few steps ahead than dancing blindly without a plan."

Casting another sidelong glance at her, he added with a wry smile, "Worst case, I'll find a new way to remind you I'm a fool.. and you might collect a new story to hold over me later."

Rounding another corner, the street began to display signs of more vibrant energy. Club Cadaver came into view next. The Sith Knight had little experience with places like this. The Red Ronin on Nar Shaddaa was the closest thing to a nightclub he knew, and even there, dancing wasn't really part of the routine. Along the way, nicknames like Golden Boy followed him, but most tended to overlook that choosing the Dark left scant room for the ordinary moments. Which made experiencing them with the Togruta feel like a trade he could live with.

The music reached him next.

"Be honest.. are you hoping I embarrass myself?"
 
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Iandre listened carefully as Tatiana spoke, the enthusiasm in the other woman's voice unmistakable. It reminded her of young archivists in the Temple who had once believed every mystery of the galaxy could eventually be arranged neatly onto datapads and shelves.

Her fingers rested lightly against the rim of her glass as she considered the question.

"In principle, yes," she said calmly. "Many of the Jedi archives still exist in one form or another. The Temple on Naboo has begun rebuilding what was lost, and other repositories survived in scattered locations across the galaxy."

She tilted her head slightly, studying Tatiana with a thoughtful expression.

"However, access to those records is not entirely mine to grant."

Her tone remained gentle, but there was a clear practicality behind the words.

"Some portions of the archives contain sensitive knowledge. Techniques that, if misunderstood or misused, could be dangerous."

A faint pause followed before she continued.

"The Jedi have learned over many centuries that information about the Force carries consequences depending on how it is approached."

She took another small sip of her drink.

"That said, scholars have always worked with the Order before. Historians, philosophers, even scientists."

A small, reassuring smile returned.

"If your people are interested in studying the Force from an academic perspective, I suspect the archivists would be willing to speak with them. Provided everyone approaches the subject with patience and respect for what they are studying."

When Tatiana mentioned mastery of natural forces again, Iandre nodded slightly.

"Your view is a reasonable one," she replied. "Influencing something is very different from owning it."

Her gaze drifted briefly toward the window where the lights of the city shimmered in the distance.

"The Jedi learned that lesson the hard way more than once."

She turned back to Tatiana.

"Curiosity has always driven discovery in this galaxy. The key is remembering that the Force is not merely energy or mathematics. It is tied to living things."

Her voice softened slightly.

"That connection is what makes it powerful. It is also what makes it difficult to reduce entirely to equations."

A faint smile touched her lips again.

"But I would be very interested to hear what conclusions your people eventually reach."

Tatiana Sah Tatiana Sah
 


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"Very fortunate." Naniti smiled over at him before they settled into their walk. When her attention swung back out to the streets, however, they didn't get the same treatment. Who were they to deserve a smile? People no doubt plotting how to flee or secure a little power or money for themselves, most likely. The Covenant had foot soldiers, but they didn't convey the same sense of proper conduct that a Knight could.

That she wasn't officially a Knight didn't matter. One lightsaber was as frightening as the next to the layperson.

A soft hum followed the completion of her meal. She expressed contentment at the vendor not botching their handiwork. They'd need to make sure food supplies continued to be delivered though. The first time she saw one of these people cooking rat meat Naniti would scour the entire street of filth.

"Really? I thought you were one of those Princelings that relied entirely on their all too handsome smile to get what they wanted." The Togruta rocked her shoulder into him in jest. "Someone certainly has to have a plan around here." Why not Lysander? He was smart enough for it. Well connected. A capable warrior.

A soft hum accompanied his self-deprecating joke. "If you're a fool, what does that make everyone else?" Naniti snorted as a sort of laugh. Was there a word for that? Well, there were, but none you would utter aloud where the people you were talking about could hear -- good way to die suddenly, but not necessarily swiftly.

"Not really. I mean, I won't promise not to laugh if you do, but... Well, Lysander, you know how to dance. Just make sure you don't stand there shuffling your feet in place with a sad shimmy -- or I'll make a holovid of it and post it somewhere publicly." She gave him a shake of her head as her blue eyes rolled at the very thought. Maybe this place wouldn't be ballroom-grace dancing, but he would figure it out. Had to. How could he not?

Not that Naniti was exactly a master at whatever kind of dancing they'd find inside.

"All I can promise is not to stab you if you laugh. No promises about anyone else though." That was a Sith joke. Trouble was, sometimes jokes were serious among Sith. One never knew until circumstances transpired.

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania


 

“Oh, please,” Lysander laughed softly, brushing it off. “If I made it this far on a smile alone, I’ve been vastly underestimating myself.” A nudge was returned in response. "Though," added with a sidelong glance at Naniti, “That would mean the strategizing falls to you.. which, honestly, sounds like the smarter way to go.” Well, from a purely practical standpoint, it held up.

They navigated through the clusters of people surrounding them. “Hopefully less disappointing,” amusement lacing his words like a melody. “Though.. I have a slight hunch most just aren’t as skilled at concealing it.”

“Publicly, no less,”
the thought struck him sharply, conjuring an image in his mind. And from there.. the goal crystallized with clarity. Just keep moving, dodge embarrassment somehow, and hold onto his composure amid this strange, or maybe not so strange, setting.

Light danced across the street ahead, eventually revealing the doors of Club Cadaver, which were streaked with graffiti.

A small dimple appeared. “That’s fair. I suspect I won’t be standing too far from you if it goes that way. Which means I’ll be contributing to the situation as well.” However it manifested, private struggles, Covenant business, or a handful of bantha herders being shanked in a crowded nightclub, what mattered was she could count on him to show up.

Just a few more paces and the threshold was crossed. The bass threaded through the entire floor. Nothing like the elegant strings or piano notes he preferred. Lysander’s eyes slid toward the dancefloor, where bodies moved to their own.. elusive tempo? Or.. lost to something uniquely their own. There was no clear pattern in any of it.. impossible to follow. No different than what he’d witnessed at the Red Ronin.

The arm upon her shoulder eventually fell, but his awareness of her never left. He found himself wondering how everything here translated through her montrals.

Already, footsteps veered for the bar.. which was lively in its own right. "First things first.. let's grab a drink, shall we?"
 
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Multiple repositories. Ah, of course. Iandre wouldn't fault Tatiana for having hoped for a single collective, would she? A secret no one had told her yet and this chance meeting had revealed? Sadly, not to be. Worse, some of those repositories were likely lost as well. Her lips thinned a bit at the mere thought.

A shame her people couldn't avail themselves as the galaxy's central repository of all knowledge. It was an idea that had been brought up. A means of demonstrating they could be partners and trusted with such a task. Ultimately, as a galactic-proposition, rejected. Not only because some would resist, but because it would only draw certain elements to besiege them before all their defenses were rebuilt. Tatiana's people took security seriously. Mostly because they hadn't been surrounded by nearly so many other species before.

With a blink, Tatiana tilted her head slightly at Iandre's suggestion. "How else would they approach it?" Iandre wasn't the first to suggest 'respect' in dealing with the Force. She and her people still weren't sold on the idea of it doing whatever it Willed and that there were repercussions in not approaching it 'properly.' Still, all that aside, her people weren't the sort to bumble through a pursuit. They had successfully reasoned out the need for the Force as a force to exist with its phenomena explainable by other means, after all. Bit too successful in that one.

What could she say? The Force never 'spoke' to them. Why shouldn't its effects simply be an artifact of quantum fields?

"Living creatures do complicate the equations if you attempt to isolate them at the granular level," Tatiana agreed. "However, if you take a more abstract approach and treat them as a group, statistically speaking their behaviors average out and become much more predictable. Group dynamics, social hierarchies, and the growing sense of cultural identity all play parts in homogenizing behaviors."

"If I am honest, Iandre, I was hoping,"
she leaned in a little closer, "while I was here to meet those that sought to break the mold. Those that do not agree in principle in what you and I have discussed. Their dynamics are understood at a high level, but distilled through third parties. It would be good if I could have a conversation with one of them like I have with yourself. Do you think that is possible? I get conflicting accounts. It is just that their differing viewpoint would help round out the possibilities." And to understand if they truly were irredeemable or hopeless, and that her people should in no way ever interact with them as so many Jedi would put it.

Iandre Athlea Iandre Athlea


 
Iandre listened without interruption, her posture relaxed but attentive, allowing Tatiana the space to fully articulate her thoughts. There was no judgment in her expression, only a quiet curiosity and a willingness to understand the perspective being offered.

When Tatiana finished, Iandre took a small sip of her drink, considering her response.

"I do not see why you could not speak with them," she said calmly.

There was no hesitation in her tone, only a grounded practicality.

"They are not myths, nor are they beyond conversation. They are people, just as we are, shaped by different experiences, different beliefs, and different conclusions about the Force."

Her gaze remained steady, thoughtful rather than cautionary.

"You may find that some are willing to speak openly. Others will not be. That is true of any group."

She turned her glass slightly between her fingers, watching the light catch along its surface.

"What you have heard of them is likely…simplified," she continued. "The same way the Jedi are often simplified when described by those outside the Order."

A faint pause followed before she added, a touch more quietly:

"The Force is experienced differently depending on how one chooses to engage with it. That difference creates… tension."

Her eyes lifted back to Tatiana.

"But disagreement does not make dialogue impossible."

There was a subtle weight to her next words, something shaped by experience rather than theory.

"If your goal is understanding rather than judgment, then yes, I believe you could speak with them." A faint, almost knowing softness touched her expression. "You may not like all of the answers you receive."

She let that settle for a moment before continuing.

"But they would still have value." Her tone remained even, grounded in quiet certainty. "Understanding rarely comes from only listening to those who already agree with you."

Tatiana Sah Tatiana Sah
 


Tatiana nodded when Iandre said what the blonde had heard was simplified. That had to be certain. How could you accurately summarize an entire people? Or even generalize when there was historical biases at play? It was surprising to hear someone speak so... accommodating of the idea. Her even smile broadened as the woman went on to say disagreement did not bar conversing on matters of importance.

"My people have no frame of reference with the Sith with which to judge them. Our... philosophical leanings have subtle and gross deviations from those of both Sith and Jedi. Which is to be expected as we come from well outside this galaxy; we lack the historical context or cultural awareness that is so common place to those groups. It is important that we learn such things to avoid misunderstandings."

"Though, I can say that we do not disagree with many Jedi propositions. An equal distribution of resources among those in need, for example."
Though, on the other hand, there were circumstances her people and the Jedi would not see eye to eye on. Tatiana usually found it best not to volunteer such things. Not without first ensuring the other party was receptive to discussing 'heavy' matters.

"I've also an interest to find 'Witches.' I hear they have a unique perspective as well. But I do not believe I would find many here."

With a slight tip of her head, Tatiana regarding Iandra for a moment. "I've spoken a great deal about my people and their interests. Is there something I could exchange for your time? A question of interest, perhaps?" Iandre had been rather kind to humor Tatiana so far. Hopefully repairing Varin's datapad was sufficient for their exchange earlier as well.

Iandre Athlea Iandre Athlea


 
Iandre listened with the same quiet attentiveness she had offered from the beginning, her posture relaxed, her expression thoughtful rather than guarded. There was no resistance in her as Tatiana spoke of unfamiliar philosophies and the need to understand what lay beyond her people's experience.

At the mention of witches, there was a slight pause. Not in recognition. Consideration.

"I cannot speak to them with any certainty," she said honestly, her tone calm and unembellished. "My experience with such traditions is…limited."

There was no discomfort in admitting that, only quiet transparency.

"But if they are anything like the Jedi or the Sith, then I suspect what you find will depend greatly on the individual rather than the label."

Her gaze remained steady, offering perspective rather than assumption.

Tatiana's offer drew a faint, warmer expression from her, something appreciative but restrained.

"You have already offered more than enough in return," she replied gently. "Curiosity, when it is genuine, is rarely something I would consider a burden."

She considered for a moment, her eyes drifting slightly before returning with quiet intent.

"But if you would like to exchange something…"

A slight tilt of her head followed.

"I would be interested to know how your people define balance."

The word was spoken with care.

"Not as a theory, but as a practice. When your conclusions differ from those around you, how do you decide where to stand?"

There was no challenge in her tone, only genuine curiosity.

"You speak of understanding others to avoid conflict," she continued. "That is a perspective I respect. But understanding alone does not always prevent action."

Her expression softened slightly.

"So I am curious…when understanding is not enough, what guides you then?"

Tatiana Sah Tatiana Sah
 


Anet laughed at her tactful retort.

"Universe - you're not secretly a diplomat, are you?" Her tone was every bit tongue-in-cheek.

She looked back at the street ahead. "Yeah, we have a deal."

She reached back into her top, this time pulling out a compact datapad. It was a sleek thing, but it probably raised even more questions. Anet pulled up some details and handed them over for Senth to jot down: a location on Belazura.

"I'll need some time. I assume a mercenary like you isn't above a little travel. I'll have what you want."

Once that was over, Anet smirked and took a deep breath.

"I'm going to a better club."


And with that, she was off.

 


obj1party.png

"It is a handsome smile," the Togruta remarked casually. With, perhaps, a slight peek from the corner of her eye to spoil the seeming indifference. "Really? I'll be the Covenant's Strategic Officer. I can move pieces across the galactic map to show supply line and fleet disposition in our territory; and ready them for coordinated assaults on our enemies." There was a pause as the violet woman turned her head to look over at Lysander. "And then watch as those forces are literally slammed into the hulls of those enemies." A sharp snort followed before she reached up to catch his shoulder in the joke.

The assault of New Alderaan would only prove a Togruta's point.

The Club's doors drew ever nearer, and she found herself wondering just how well Lysander would conduct himself on the dance floor. It wasn't her thing either, but it was an opportunity. Something wild and different with him. When had they ever shied away from such a thing together?

While Naniti smiled, her eyes had sharpened when the doors parted and the music washed over them. When he suggested they grab a drink first, the Togruta blinked and looked back over at him with the warmth she reserved solely for his benefit. "Alright, but if you get something that plants you on your ass, I am puppeteering you across the dance floor and taking a holovid of it." There would be no excuses. They were dancing. Even if he was blackout drunk.

There was no need to be polite, but at least Naniti didn't shove people out of the way. She'd cut a path right through them even if it took a shoulder to get some slab of meat to move. "At least it's busy." Empty clubs were the worst. Usually empty for a reason.

"So, what will it be, Lys?" As they stepped up to the bar, she wondered how strong of a drink he had in mind.

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania


 

Bodies were pressing close along the way. Naniti created just enough space to breathe, and so Lysander stepped into it, one hand brushing the small of her back as they finally arrived at the bar.

Glancing up, he saw the mismatched shapes and sizes.. each one promising something different. Most promised regret. A few promised oblivion. One or two might deliver a night he'd only remember in pieces if he were lucky. But standing there with Naniti's warmth against his palm, he slowly began to realize the question wasn't what he wanted to drink. Maybe it was more about the version of himself he trusted the Togruta to see.

When he turned back to her, that smile she'd called handsome surfaced again. He didn't bother fighting it this time. "Are you hoping I pick something sensible, or something that gives you an excuse to haul me around when I can't walk straight?" Of course, there was genuine curiosity under it. What would she do if he actually let his guard down? Away from Covenant briefings and tactical assessments and all the careful performance of competence. If he just.. stopped managing everything for once.

He tapped the counter. A Mirialan bartender drifted over.

"Mandallian Narcolethe."

The words spilled out before he could second guess them, like he knew what he was doing. He did not know what he was doing.

"Two Narcolethes," the blonde amended, glancing at Naniti from the corner of his eye. The smirk that snuck in was definitely too pleased with itself. "Let's see which one of us regrets it first."

The bartender eventually returned with two small glasses filled with liquid that shimmered. Lysander picked up his and brought it into the space between them.

"Here's to your future as the Covenant's Strategic Officer. May your plans be ever brilliant, the admirals forever terrified, and your enemies left confused as to how they lost." The ascent began, stopping just shy before the rim could brush his lower lip. "And may I be beside you when the galaxy catches fire."

He wouldn't wait for the scent to register. The glass tipped back, and the liquid hit his tongue before his brain could start logging reasons that this was a bad idea.

Heat hit with the subtlety of a thermal detonator. Well, he’d never actually been blown up by one, but if the ‘verse ever decided to test him, he suspected it would feel something close to this.
 


The violet Togruta's head turned slightly when Lysander stepped in close with his hand lingering at her back. "That would be telling." Sensible? What even was that? Though hauling Lysander around wasn't what she had in mind despite what she'd said. She prefer to remember the moment with him, and hoped he would too. It was too easy to encounter someone only for them to drift away in this galaxy. Too easy to blind yourself to the realities around you; to drown yourself in desire and delusion. Naniti wanted more for them. It was within their grasp.

And Lysander made his choice. Naniti turned her head even more to look up at him and his smirk. Narcolethe?

The temptation to peek ahead gnawed at her, but part of 'this' was not treating it like a battle or challenge to be won. It wasn't enough to merely get to the right end, but that the end matter. How could anyone claim their success held personal value if they hadn't actually lived all the moments that led to it? The galaxy was hollow in more ways than it had any right to be. Naniti wasn't going to let this thing be just as vacuous.

Still... Narcolethe?

When the bartender returned, his partner didn't hesitate picking up the pungent drink. This was probably a bad idea. Naniti didn't get 'plastered.' Should any Force user really shed their inhibitions?

"Isn't it your job to keep the galaxy from catching on fire, The Knight that Holds the Center? Your elegance, knowledge, and skill are what give all this direction." Naniti lifted the glass, and then paused. "Long as I'm with you." Their dance gave her something to look forward to other than manipulating events.

With a grunt, she brought the glass up to tip most of it back. Naniti turned and rocked in toward Lysander from the horrible taste. Glass clenched in her fist she gently pounded it against his chest a single time.

Lysander von Ascania Lysander von Ascania


 

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