Private What Fails to Bode Well

[Ren Bishto]

While not typically one for self-realization, Ren couldn't label her current situation anything but a new low. Lifting a glass to her lips, her eyes drew an all encompassing look at the scummy bar she found herself a patron of. Coruscant's seedy underbelly was reigning champion for morally questionable employment. A lesson any native living below the reach of the sun was quick to internalize. So late nights pitched up in the far corner of a bar, somewhere in the depths of the lower levels, were almost habitual for anyone keen on job opportunities.

Shifting through the surge of indistinct conversation, her attention remained split between the low pulse of bar activity and the projected hologram facing the back wall. Which monitored a seemingly uninhibited stream of bounties, all relatively low profile. Slim-pickings.

But one out the masses drew her full attention, prompting Ren to straighten slightly in interest.

Some old bounty reawakened by whispers. Or more like stirred on. There wasn't much insurance to claim it was still valid. The name and face already rapidly buried underneath the "fresh meat" that regularly flocked into urban hellholes like the one she found herself in. Bounties with hot trails, brimming with potential and at the forefront of everyone's mind. But in spectacular contradiction, this was a cold case, nearly flying under detection. Promising to a young street urchin not looking to fend off competition. And of course, the deal was only sweetened by the generous bounty at hand.

In one fluid motion, Ren entered the given information into her data pad, finding an identical tag. She grappled with the image briefly, easing through the disbelief. With a reward like that she was willing to bet whatever grudge prompted this commission was alive and well. Her eyes quickly scanned the hologram and accompanying information. Oddly vague for a job of this caliber. But that didn't do much to phase her, not as much as the loaded check in any case. After all, she was only a glorified middle man, swinging below the scope of intricacy.

After a moment of shallow deliberation, she pocketed the information, sliding out the bar with a renewed sense of resolve.

Darth Metus
​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

CORUSCANT, LOWER LEVELS

Coruscant.

The so-called cradle of democracy was yet home to a filthy underbelly. Such was the reality of putting anything on a pedastal. Whether it be gilded politicians or the "guardians" of the Light, all had grim hidden in the closet. Look no further than the lower levels of the Alliance capital. Above, the skyways bustled and projected an image of prosperity. Yet below, scum and villainy reigned just beneath their noses. In fact, the stench was so mighty that even a Sith could slink in to meet an old "friend."

It was not often that Darth Metus stepped away from his empire. There were challenges and adversaries aplenty in the Shiraya Expanse to occupy his attention - and thus, he cared very little for the affairs of the Galaxy at large. Whether it be the ever-growing ambitions of his fellow Sith or the various wars raging on, he could give less than a single care. But, when the answer to his nation's current problems potentially laid outside its borders? He would happily take the plunge.

Thus, with features relatively obscured by a hood, the Sith settled down into a cantina's booth. He ordered a simple glass of water and a slice of pie - nothing out of the ordinary. His contact did not sit across from him, but rather settled into the booth behind him. Back-to-back they sat.

"You're looking well, old friend." he began, before tucking into a bite of the local cuisine. It was terrible, as expected.

"And you look tired."

The pair shared a chuckle and were blissfully unaware that there were eyes upon them.

Ren Bishto​

 

[Ren Bishto]

With the sort of convenience that feels more akin to fate, she didn't have to look very far.

Before Ren could even begin formulating a plan, some disembodied sense tugged at the edge of her awareness. Leading her attention to one booth in particular. Which just so happened to host a certain hooded figure. Sparing a glance, Ren was quick to size him up. For lack of a better term he seemed formidable. As unassuming as his choice of wardrobe was, his presence carried a certain weight. A man whose impression was felt but not seen.

Only riding on baseless speculation, some external force kept her there. Circling her mind just long enough to loosely connect the dots as she referenced the bounty diligently. Ren's head dipped in contemplation, the only outward acknowledgment her mind wasn't solely on her drink. Damn was her luck phenomenal.

Mulling over a course of action, she kept inward. Foot traffic in tandem with a sizeable audience ruled out direct confrontation. She'd have to wait for him to leave. To shadow and subsequently corner him somewhere deep in the lanes.

Her fingers wrapped around the base of her glass, knuckles grazed and eyes lidded with caution. Anticipation building.
Darth Metus
​

 

[Darth Metus]

ObjectiveImage​

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

B U S I N E S S
Coruscant, Lower Levels

For several minutes, the men chatted as if they were old classmates.

Though they never faced the same direction, their chatter wandered about all the typical subjects. Life. Happiness. Advice about grandchildren. For any eavesdropping or passing by, it would have been quite the benign - yet boring - experience. But, the two men had not come to the 'cradle of democracy' for idle chatter. Their words, over a lifetime, had cultivated a double-meaning. Certain subjects meant more than face value. While prattling on about his recent marriage, for example, the Sith was actually pointing his contact in the direction of his compensation.

And as for him?

"You should stop by Earnie's sometime, they've got better pie." Jackpot.

From thence, they quickly concluded their meals and Darth Metus rose. He paused, tossing a few extra credits upon the table before heading for the establishment's exit. His itinerary had finally been updated. Earnie's was the name of a local diner, known for its questionable dessert quality. But for Darth Metus, this was the name of the one who could solve his most recent round of problems. Now, he should have been more vigilant in his departure from the establishment, but his focus was upon where he was going next.

So much so that he was blissfully unaware upon passing the threshold and entering the city streets.​

Ren Bishto

 

[Ren Bishto]

Listening in, impatience gradually wore the small-time bounty hunter down to the point of exasperation. So when the man rose, loosening spare change, it felt like some small internal victory. Doubling down on her objective, the girl tracked his movement out the bar, remaining seated for a moment longer to squash any immediate suspicion. Shifting languidly Ren readjusted her jacket before slipping out after the target. Instinctively, a hand dropped to the blaster holstered against her hip, reinforcing a sense of conviction as she exited.

The bounty hunter didn’t lose sight of him for long, quickly tailing down the same path and lagging behind at a cautious pace. Thankfully the lane was still plenty crowded, pulsing with Coruscant’s reliably intoxicated nightlife, which generously provided cover. Pushing further down the strip, she closed the distance between the two with relative nonchalance, hands tucked in the frayed pockets of her jacket. Shadowing loyally behind for a good few blocks, she watched the Sith slip down a far more obscure, uninhabited alley, and, after a moment of swift deliberation, she followed after. Judging the distance she’d need to cut him off some point before he found freedom out the other end.

Upon recognizing this, Ren grew staunch in finding a different approach. She skimmed the edge of a gutter, lifting herself up by her forearms and onto a slanted roof of an accompanying building. With a couple well placed steps she overtook the man, dropping down a few feet in front of him with agility.

Ren straightened, offering somewhat of an ironic smile as she met the Sith’s line of sight. Before any amount of deliberation, she had her gun pointed squarely at the older man.

“Hey there.”

Darth Metus
​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

C O R U S C A N T
Lower Levels, Getting Robbed

Tunnel Vision.

The Sith knew better than to fall victim to such things - especially when he was wandering about on a Jedi world. Regardless of how sticky the situation was, he had been raised better, hell, trained better than to lose sight of this fact. But, like an amateur, he focused in on the task at hand too soundly. This was undoubtedly a reflection of the stability that he had surrounded himself with for the latter part of his life. He had all but forgotten what it was like to live with his guard raised at all times. He had borders, armies, and allies within arm's reach - thus, he seldom had to worry about being stuck up in an alleyway.

But here he was, watching as a piece was levied against him.

In truth, the Sith was not even mad at the woman before his eyes. He was upset, yes, more at himself than anything else. The scowl that came to dominate his features was not even meant for her. But, there was no changing his own mistake. The only thing he could do from here was own it and get out of the alley without drawing even more attention to himself. Thus, like any "normal" patron being shaken down for their wallet, the Sith raised his hands.

If he was any less frustrated, he might have chuckled at the scenario. He, a man who could shake mountains, was being shaken down for his wallet. In hindsight, it would make for a good story. "Wallet's in the back, right pocket. I won't stop you." he said calmly. "But I must be going, so please."

Little did he know that he was the wallet she was looking for.​

Ren Bishto​

 

[Ren Bishto]

​

Coruscant,
Lower Levels

​

The kid couldn’t help but quirk a brow at the miscalculation.

He certainly wasn’t one to jump to conclusions. If anything his calm, his control, was almost unnerving. Incompatible with her first impression of the man. He was negotiating as if being held at gunpoint was a mere inconvenience for him.

That specific revelation wasn’t taken all that much into account as Ren straightened, leveling a dry look of amusement at the Sith. “Yeah- That’s not gonna cut it exactly.” Raising her unoccupied hand in mock defense she pushed on, "Don't get me wrong, that’s a smart play. Hell, if you caught me any other day, I’d gladly take you up on the offer-” With a brief once over, she scanned for any concealed weapons, stalling a moment longer.

“But I figure the pay grade could be a stretch higher- You're a wanted man after all.” If there were any doubts of her intention, they were subsequently snuffed as she extended a hand. Ignorant of the waters she was about to test. In the same breath, the force emerged in volts of flickering intensity. Tapping into the encircling energy, she summoned crude tendrils of the force to web around an adjacent dumpster, leaving harsh grating skid marks in its wake. Shouldering a bolt of strain, she hauled the mass directly in his path in hopes of pinning the man without doing much actual harm.

Whether or not her plan came to fruition was just a question of his reflexes.

Darth Metus​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

R O B B E R Y
Lower Levels, Coruscant
[ Theme Music ]

The Sith's patience eroded into dust.

Were the one before him a mere street urchin seeking a quick credit, he would have happily parted ways with his wallet and called it a day. After all, it was his own failure to remain vigilant that had gotten him in this sticky scenario. However, what the woman sought was more than a few folds of leather and the credits nestled within. No, no. She was after the number old adversaries had placed over his head.

It had been a lifetime since Darth Metus even contemplated the old bounties on his head. He wasn't surprised to hear that he was a wanted man, even after his Confederacy had fallen. However. There was indeed a surprise...

The fact that the woman chose to come alone.

As soon as the woman revealed her wretched ambitions, Darth Metus opened his awareness. He did that which he should have been doing from the very beginning. With this sense, he could feel the ebb and flow of the Force. But more importantly, feel the intent of his immediate vicinity. If there were any more avaricious souls waiting around the corner, he would feel their greed. Fortunately enough, the only thing he felt were rats in the gutter and the vermin before him.

He felt her grip of the Force. Crude. Strained. His gaze quietly followed the tendrils to the dumpster and he watched as it began to rise. "If you know who I am..." he began, keeping his tone as even as possible. His own dominant hand flexed ever so slightly, unleashing his own command of the Force. Experience met instinct. A lifetime met a millisecond. And as the dumpster hurtled in his direction, a column of his own might thundered against it.

The dumpster's steel form would crumble from the impact as if an airspeeder had crashed right into it.

"...why would you come alone? Are you eager for an early grave child?"​

Ren Bishto

 

[Ren Bishto]

​

Coruscant,
Lower Levels

Feth.

Instinctively she took a step back, giving the spray of steel a wide berth as quiet shock pooled behind her eyes. Suffice to say, her confidence was flailing. A fact she tried to hide from her body language.

Fighting to keep neutral on the surface, the girl’s expression only seemed to harden under the Sith’s imputative stare. But the devil was in the details. Specifically where her eyebrows pinched together cautiously, almost analytically, hyper-aware of the situation she found herself in.

Her first instinct was to assume he was something of a Jedi. Descending from the Order’s pedestal at the height of the planet. But she'd had her fair share of confrontations with the likes of Coruscant’s resident force users. This felt wholly different. While she wasn’t all that attuned to the mental aspects of the force, the rippling vortex of power spawning from the Sith was a hard thing to miss.

Growing defensive, the girl doubled down, “With respect, I don’t know a damn thing about you outside the fact you pissed someone off with enough sense to want you gone. Can’t say I’m all that interested in an introduction.”

The simple objective of just hitting the man with a stun gun and collecting her dues was now a pipedream as shattered as the steel residue from the dumpster.

Are you eager for an early grave child?

With a guarded expression Ren blinked up at the man, a moment of vulnerability icing over as she fought to keep her tone unbothered. “Child? That’s awfully condescending.”

Behind her, a pane of glass shattered in one fluid motion, the shards flung towards the Sith’s shield of vision. She had no disillusions that a stunt like that would actually work to stop him. Figuring it’d be the equivalent to having dust thrown in the eye, of which he could effortlessly bat away.

Regardless the girl committed to the distraction, turning to slip out the alley.

Darth Metus ​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

R O B B E R Y
Lower Levels, Coruscant

He could feel it.

The utter annihilation of the woman's plans were as a succulent aroma. Though she did well to mask her thoughts behind an iron expression, the Sith's awareness afforded him valuable perspective. As the dumpster screeched to a final halt, his dominant hand remained raised. His mind immediately began to prepare, willing the Force to obey once more. Willing the eradication of the interruption before him.

Yet, in the face of a predator, the woman did not break. She did not plead for her life. She did not spin on her heel and attempt to sprint away - not yet anyway. Instead, she bit back. Darth Metus' eyebrow raised as she spat her response. A light tsk fell from his lips. "Then you are a damn fool. Any idiot who picks up a bounty knows well enough to read the details."

His response said all he needed to about his intentions. Her boldness had just saved her life. In fact, she doubled down. Not knowing that her indignation had earned valuable mercy. "Only a child would go into a hunt, blin-"

The crash of the glass behind her cut off his words. And though a paltry attempt, she attempted to fight before fleeing. Once more, the Force thundered forth from the Sith, conducted by his outstretched hand. But unlike the battering ram that collided with the dumpster, this tactic came from above. The glass plummeted straight down and shattered upon the pavement. The shards' fall was hastened by his will - a literal shove to the earth.

It was this power that he enacted upon her. To the human body, it would feel as though gravity was intensifying manyfold. Basic movements would become harder and harder to accomplish. Simply standing would become an impossibility within an instant. The Sith, confident in this, strode closer.

"How much was the bounty?"​

Ren Bishto

 

[Ren Bishto]

​

Coruscant,
Lower Levels

Of course I read the fething details, there just didn't happen to be any indication of whatever bullshit wizardry you're pulling.

Reeling in a defense, the girl simply voiced a dry, almost self-deprecating chuckle barely registering as audible. It didn’t matter, not when she was this in over her head.

To a certain degree he was right. This was uncharacteristically sloppy of her. She'd gotten comfortable with jobs like these, a cut and dry cycle. Whether it be gamblers late on their debts, or feuding politicians it all felt formulaic. Everyone shared the same exploitable weakness it seemed. So when she was met with a curveball and stagnated, she really had no one to blame but herself.

The kid wasn’t allowed much time to internalize that revelation however, as in the next moment the sky careened down on her shoulders relentlessly.

Understandably, panic blossomed in her chest as she staggered to her knees, gravity coiling around her limbs as if to drag her straight through the ground. “The hell-” The rising anxiety pounding in her mind was flushed out by equal parts adrenaline and contempt, her eyes drilling into the approaching Sith as if with that single action he would oblige and call off the disembodied claws that pinned her. “Let me go.” she demanded, voice strained.

Also present was some secondary emotion, buried far deeper. Only manifesting in a brief incredulous shadow that crossed her face. Fascination. How was he doing this? She couldn't even begin to conceive the force being capable of such.

Currently lacking the emotional capacity to dwell on it, she instead grit her teeth, fighting against the invisible restraints with exhaustion already biting her heel. More concerned with freeing herself, the Sith’s words barely registered as the blood rushed through her ears.

“Why do you care?” Came her response after struggling a moment longer, her words almost like a low growl.

Using the force unwittingly as a crutch, she fought the pressure to the point she could stand again, however laboriously. While not exactly free to a full range of movement she didn’t relent, pushing back with her own strands of force, seemingly awakened by the Sith’s warping emergence of power.

“More importantly-” Her muscles protested as she tried to take a step, “-how the feth are you doing this?”

Darth Metus ​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

R O B B E R Y
Lower Levels, Coruscant

Defiance.

Though the alleyway was quickly becoming the Valley of Death, the young woman bared her teeth. Her attempt at making a break for it was quickly dispelled. The glass shattering upon pavement was the introduction to her predicament. As for the Sith, he could feel the slurry of emotion roiling forth. Surprise. Panic. Each bloomed in equal measure as he unleashed the Force upon her. Yet, in the same vein, contempt seethed from her. Even if she was going down, she wouldn't do so like a wimpering child.

Let me go. she demanded.

Silence ruled him as he drew ever closer. His boots sounded ominously upon the neglected ground until he was within arm's reach. "I just might, but that depends entirely on you." he said simply. His decision had been made and it was absolute. The woman would live. But in what condition would remain to be seen. As for his question about the bounty, Darth Metus sighed.

"I intend to pay you the bounty's sum, plus a fee of your choosing for the trouble." came his answer. Quite frankly, he did not have the time nor inclination to exact vengeance upon whomever held an ancient grudge. Thus, having the urchin before him sort it out on his behalf sounded like a far better option. He was about to begin speaking the terms of her surrender, but found her defiance manifesting. Her strength was...primal. And it was enough so that she could fight to her feet, despite his tactic.

She'd find a dangerous smile painting his face as she took her step.

"The same way you moved the dumpster. You and are the same - born of the Force." His fingers relaxed ever so slightly, releasing the pressure upon her upper body. Yet she would still find it extremely difficult to move her legs. Can't have her running off mid-sentence, after all. "The Force can move mountains. Raise the dead. Shatter entire worlds. Or keep piss-ants from chucking glass in your face."

The chuckle that followed his jab was mirthless.

"The way I see it, you have three options. One, try to continue this hunt and have every bone in your body broken. Two, take the money and feth off. Or three, take the money and follow me. And I'll make it so you learn how to break mountains yourself. What'll it be?"

​

Ren Bishto

 

[Ren Bishto]

​

Coruscant,
Lower Levels

Whatever direction she imagined this going, he certainly killed any hope of predictability.

Blinking up at the man, she regarded him briefly. His cash offer by no means luring her to compromise. “I don’t want your credits. Keep them-” came her definitive answer a second later, touched with mild disbelief at the proposition. The man was so unbothered he’d rather just throw money at the problem. It was almost comedic.

However strapped for cash she might’ve been, there was zero temptation in his offer. At this point, greed would be far more humiliating than flat out surrender. A low she wasn’t willing to sink to.

The girl’s attention was swiftly redirected as soon as she found herself liberated. Well, partially. She stopped herself from lurching forward, staving off inertia bitterly as she readjusted to meet the Sith’s gaze. His insult earning him an unconcealed grimace.

Still, she didn’t act deaf to what he’d said. A flicker of consideration, nearly undetectable, casted like a shadow on her face as he outlined the true nature of the force. A tool of power with capabilities far beyond the petty scope she was using it for.

Then came the real hooker, he presented her with options. None of which she was fully expecting to hear. Well, none besides the first. If anything that specific threat could be very believably delivered on. Regardless, her eyes widened for a split second, briefly taken aback as she grappled with what had been said. The girl stared him down blankly, the corners of her mouth subtly curved down in cautious distrust.

“Break mountains-” The words were spoken carefully with a raised eyebrow, as if testing their validity. Suspicion ringing clear in each syllable. “You’re offering to train me.” The girl shifted, a mix of skepticism and suspended belief inherent in her words. Her eyebrows pinched together as she straightened, “Why?”

Gaze dropping to the ground before returning in the next moment, she stood in quiet deliberation.

“Follow you where exactly?”

Darth Metus ​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

R O B B E R Y
Lower Levels, Coruscant

At least the young woman was consistent.

When Darth Metus mentioned paying off his bounty - complete with a handsome bonus for her trouble - the woman did not budge. There was a small part of the Sith that expected this to be the key to a shift in the dynamic. That dangling the reason she foolishly hunted him in the first place would be enough to change her tune. But no. Even when the spoils of victory were being offered, she turned her nose. Why? Because she hadn't been the one to earn it.

If his assumptions were correct, her instincts...were that of a Sith.

"Right, you don't want mine. You want someone else's." his retort sounded as he released the hold upon her torso. It took her only a moment to steady herself before she met his gaze. Even in the position she was in, she had the stones to grimace. But there was more to that face of hers. More that glimmered in her eyes. Who wouldn't consider the possibilities? Of being able to pry one's self up from the literal gutter? Of doing whatever one wanted?

All it took was making a deal with the Devil.

Thus, Darth Metus presented his three options. Surprise claimed her face, followed by a stare. It didn't take the Force to tell that she didn't trust him as far as she could throw him. And given the circumstances, that was a good mindset to have. Despite this...she verbalized her consideration before confirming the third option. Skepticism colored her tone as she asked the question of the hour: why?

"It's simple really." he began. "You've looked certain death in the face and bared your teeth. There aren't many like you - like us. And I'd consider it a personal crime if I left you to rot in this squallor." His offhand motioned in her general direction as he spoke. "You remind me of myself when I was that age. Impulsive. Sloppy. Unrefined. But with the right nudge, I conquered a quarter of the Galaxy. Imagine what you can do with the right nudge."

He gave her quite a bit to think about, as evidenced by the decline of her gaze. And what she said next brought a smile to his face.

"Right now, to the business you interrupted. Then, I'm going home." He wouldn't say anything else on that front until she made her choice. So, he reached out. His fingertips settled under her chin and lifted, attempting to gingerly return her gaze to his own.

"I'll ask again, what'll it be?"​

Ren Bishto

 

[Ren Bishto]

Coruscant,
Lower Levels

The girl’s iron-clad look of cynicism cracked with each word. Scanning for the smallest hint of deception, all she found was conviction in its purest form. He wasn’t lying was he.

Signs of internal conflict surfaced in the way her eyes narrowed, grappling with the concept purposefully. Was there really some budding potential residing in her. Some untapped power she could capitalize on and be stronger for it?

Perhaps if she took his words at face-value, the girl would’ve batted the Sith’s offer away snarling. After all, why change the trajectory of your life on a whim. Especially at the suggestion of someone you had close to no reason to trust. But despite that, darkened contemplation dawned in her eyes. In truth, she couldn’t disagree with his frank analysis. There wasn’t much of a future here for her. Every moment in this hell-hole had been spent grappling for a semblance of control over her circumstances. Only to be forced down by the boot of reality time and time again.

The opportunity to change that cycle wasn’t one she took lightly.

The hand he extended was one of potential. An offer to find a fold in the universe where she could finally establish herself with more than a modicum of autonomy.

The girl fell silent, realizing he wouldn't reveal much else until she gave a decisive answer. She could hardly fathom her own train of thought, instinctively wanting to agree. In the next breath, he redirected her gaze, effectively bringing her back to the moment. She remained silent a moment longer before recoiling from his touch.

“Alright.”

The one-worded confirmation was sobered and even. Void of any residual doubt. “I’ll take my chances.” With a look of acknowledgement, she shouldered the full weight of what she’d just accepted with composure. “Though it definitely wouldn't hurt if you’d kindly let me stretch my legs first.” She deadpanned, making a swift return back to her pointed remarks. Still frustratingly locked in place.

After watching to gauge his reaction, she followed up a moment later, “Where’s that home of yours?”

Darth Metus​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Armor of Darth Metus​

R O B B E R Y
Lower Levels, Coruscant

The Sith watched.

Waited. Though his question was uttered with what could appear an edge of impatience, Darth Metus understood the gravity of what he was proposing. All three of the options laid before the young woman were life changing events. The first would leave her barely recognizable. The second, if his estimation of his own head's worth was accurate, would set her up pretty for quite some time. The third? Well. That would change who she was at a fundamental level forever. Thus, after offering his hand, he did not rush the young woman.

All the while, he could see the contemplation written upon her face. She did not bite his fingers off when he raised her chin, but did recoil away. The silence was broken by a single word. Alright. And with but a single word, the deal was struck. If this were a crossroads, her soul would have been forfeit. But, fortunately, the Sith was a devil of a different sort. He grinned nonetheless, clearly pleased with her acceptance.

"Sure thing, apprentice." he said, matching her tone. His grip upon the Force relaxed immediately and her legs were free to move. "From here forward, you are the student and I am the Master. I can only imagine calling me Master would make you vomit, so Darth Metus will suffice." He paused, folding his arms. "What shall I call you?"

And then, to her own question, he answered straight. "The region is called the Shiraya Expanse. Outer Rim, currently uncharted by most navicomputers. I've carved out a...haven there. But don't worry, I don't keep my students under lock and key."​

Ren Bishto

 

[Ren Bishto]

Coruscant,
Lower Levels

​

Mobility restored, a mild pang of relief washed over her. Finally having claim to her legs again. Despite the new freedom, she remained where she stood, attentive to what Darth Metus had to say.

Sure thing, apprentice.

Quirking an eyebrow, the title settled in her mind. Formalities were a near foreign concept to her, but it admittedly seemed to have its place. Pushing forward, she couldn’t help but exhale a subtle laugh at his good faith effort to be mindful. “At the very least it would induce a gag reflex.“ Something of a grin pulled at her lips as if it were a natural back and forth, “Good to know you’re accommodating.” She added. As for his question, the girl answered in a single syllable, “Ren.”

Shrugging, she tagged on another line for good measure, “Bishto- if that happens to matter to you.” It likely didn't. Last names weren’t of particular relevance down here. It didn’t tie her to anything, or anyone for that matter. But she offered it regardless. That is before her attention was redirected once more.

He spoke of the Shiraya Expanse, a title she ran through her head for any semblance of recognition. Of course, realistically, she knew she’d never have heard of it. The geography of the Galactic Alliance was already mind-numbing enough on its own, and there really wasn’t much of a reason to look beyond the veil. Especially not to worlds with little sway over her life.

Although in contradiction, it did seem high time to broaden her horizons.

“Sounds remote.” She noted rather obviously, though with apparent intrigue in her voice. “That's a welcomed change of pace.” After all she'd never stepped a foot off the artificial concrete of her home world. Never having seen a genuine horizon in her life. Suffice to say the prospect was fascinating.

Darth Metus​