Lost Lamb

[Amilthi]

With arms crossed, Rhasru stood at the top of the ramp of the shuttle he had requisitioned, waiting for the Acolyte who was to accompany him. His absent-minded gaze brushed over the hangar personnel, the small cogs in a smoothly-running wheel, all striving to make themselves indispensable. That was as it should be. Of course, their efforts were largely in vain, but that wasn't the point. If instead they had just been droids, mindlessly fulfilling their function, not even able to care about the fact that they could be replaced at any time by the newest model, it would have been an unbearable sight.

Not that he was in the best mood anyway. Rhasru was rather irritated to have to embark on this journey. An Acolyte named Mirrielle Mar had ducked out of an assignment and escaped the eyes of her fellow student. Chances were that she was just looking for a good time off Korriban. On the other hand, there was always a possibility that something else had happened, which was why someone had to look into this. The risk that any information would find its way into the wrong hands was not to be afforded, and in case there was a danger of that, the situation had to be brought under control by a competent person. It might as well be himself.

Nothing in the nature of the matter required that he didn't do this alone, of course. But it was customary to use such opportunity to teach aspiring Sith, and so Rhasru had picked an Acolyte at random, even if it might be that the only remotely interesting thing that could be learned here was how to find other Force sensitives. He shrugged to himself, and waited. The Acolyte was not late yet.

 

[Teynara]

To sense the irritation of another Sith wasn't something that had proven overly difficult, all things considered - the vast majority of their brethren weren't exactly good at bottling up their emotions or learning to keep a lid on things. Let's face it, if you want to know what a Sith is thinking, just look at their face, Tirdarius thought with a faint smile, half-amused at his own line of contemplation. It was true he felt little more than disdain for the other Sith, but that was mostly because their actions were idiotic when considering the long-term goals they all espoused. Power, authority over others, and yet most of them have the self-control and personal charisma of a Blister Gnat, he reflected. Fools, all of them.

He strode purposefully along the hallway leading towards the Hangar, keeping his deep grey eyes focused on his destination and caring little for any of the activity that surrounded him. Things felt straightforward enough today: he had a place to go and a duty to perform, so all else was fairly irrelevant. His senses extended outward to touch the minds of those nearby: some deep in thought or concentration and, as was the case with the other Sith waiting not-so-patiently at Tirdarius' destination, impatience and irritation, barely restrained from developing into anger. Emotions so close to the surface that they could be manipulated easily, he thought with a soft sigh of exasperation. No wonder the Order is crumbling around us.

The double doors leading into the Hangar bay parted as he approached, providing him access to the expansive room, filled with shuttles and one-man space-faring vehicles that were at the core of the Sith's ability to get around. Tirdarius' eyes narrowed slightly as he looked around, getting a look at the place and again noticing the activity that constituted the place. Technicians, pilots, astromech maintenance... All scurrying about as though they had no better place to be. As long as they do their duty well, it is of little consequence to me, Tirdarius noted, striding forward towards the shuttle where his erstwhile companion awaited him.

"Is it always in your nature to be so impatient?", Tirdarius asked in way of a greeting as he approached the other Sith, noting that the man was much shorter than he was, but carrying that sense of concentrated energy perhaps better for it. Has the look of a brawler, someone who might be skilled in close quarters, Tirdarius thought, quirking an eyebrow slightly as he continued his appraisal of the man. "Surely you don't imagine that a single errant Acolyte is going to elude our grasp so thoroughly that rushing to get here would change the outcome, do you?"

Not waiting for a response, the young Sith stepped around his smaller companion and entered the interior of the shuttle, exchanging the burning fires of the Temple's hallways for the colder artificial light within. Tirdarius knew he had been courting an outburst from his superior by speaking in such a manner, but he wasn't one who liked to dodge risks, and frankly, if the other Sith did decide that such insolence warranted a violent response, that would simply validate the Human's earlier thoughts on the matter. Imagine, if you can't handle a simple verbal attack, however would you be expected to deal with real adversity?, he questioned inwardly, wondering what the response might be.

He entered the cockpit of the small vessel and sat down in the co-pilot's seat, not bothering to consider whether or not his companion might have preferred that Tirdarius himself do the flying. And if he does, he can ask nicely, he thought with a wry smile. But he knew that few Sith liked the idea of relinquishing control to another, so it seemed more likely that he would have to relegate himself to the subordinate position. Fine by me, for the moment. Less work to do that way, he mused.

"Are you coming along or not?", he called back into the rear of the shuttle, his cool voice carrying back to the boarding ramp itself. Just niggling at you for now, he thought. Let's see how it long it takes for you to lose your temper.

 

[Amilthi]

Rhasru watched the dark-robed figure walk through the hangar and towards him, with a steady pace and clear direction, yet unhurried. "Ah, there you are...", he said as the young man came up the ramp. Still, the Acolyte's demeanor betrayed no sign of worry that he might be late. Rhasru noticed this with approval. The Acolyte was quite unimpressed by the impatience he was conveying, indeed, he went so far as to mock it. There was the kind of students who always did this kind of thing, who took every opportunity to make an attempt at asserting their own status, even when it lacked any objective basis. Rhasru actually preferred these. He found them easier to deal with than those who constantly feigned subservience. It wasn't difficult to let someone know that one didn't have reason to take their provocations seriously. Making someone realize that pretending submission was almost as bad as genuine servility was a bit trickier.

"Indeed I do not", the Sith replied casually. "Yet I should be surprised if you could not think of things you would rather do." Without altering his posture, he followed Tirdarius with his eyes as the young man eagerly disappeared in the direction of the cockpit. Then he pushed the button that closed the ramp, only to rest his arms again crossed in front of his chest.

The question coming from the cockpit provoked a laugh from Rhasru, short, but genuine, not the kind that signalled only derision. Without undue haste, the Sith strolled into the cockpit and didn't reply until he was standing behind the chair in which Tirdarius had seated himself.

"Are you always this impatient? Also, you're sitting in my spot", he remarked dryly. He hated flying. He wasn't good at it, and he had decided that it was a menial task that it was below him to even strive to excel at. He had no intention of doing unpleasant work on this trip, let alone of making a fool of himself in front of an Acolyte. After all, what was the purpose of being someone's superior?

 

[Teynara]

Tirdarius had always grown up with a single thought in mind: how important is it, really? You had to pick your battles, and focus your energies only on the vital ones. There's no point arguing over whether to you'll be killed by person A or person B if you're going to die anyway. What does it matter? This had much the same feel to it: what would be the point of arguing further with a travelling companion who would simply start their joint mission either by being angry with him for the remainder, or who might even react violently and thus end it before it had begun.

On the other hand, to meekly submit to the other Sith's demand would be tantamount to exposing a weakness and accepting a subordinate position. If you bow the knee once, you'll always end up looking at the floor, he thought. He frankly wasn't prepared to do that - yes, there were more important fights, but he was nobody's tool nor servant, and he wasn't about to allow the other Sith to think otherwise. This can be turned both ways, he thought.

Standing, relinquishing the co-pilot's chair, Tirdarius stepped aside and took the centre chair right in front of the main control panel. "If you're incapable of handling the controls on a shuttle this size, one wonders how you expect ever to exert true control over those you would rule," he remarked coldly, even though he didn't consider it a complete failure on the part of the other Sith. Still, to fear your own abilities or to acknowledge them as weak ultimately speaks only of your failure to correct either issue, or so he believed. Besides, the ability to pilot is the gift of freedom, and what is a Sith without the ability to go where he wishes and do as he sees fit? In truth, it was inexcusable.

He span around in his new chair to face the controls, then initiated the start-up sequence. With the boarding hatch sealed, the shuttle was prepared for flight, so the computers were put through their activation sequences, lights coming on all across the boards as power flooded into them. The shuttle began to hum as the engines were turned on, and Tirdarius made certain to keep the inertial dampeners dialled down to 95%, so that he might better feel the motion of the ungainly craft. The repulsorlifts powered up and caused the shuttle to push itself off the ground in a vertical motion, hovering gently in place and turning slightly as the resistance of the repulsors pushed off against the solid mass of the hangar deck.

The doors above the hangar retracted to allow them to depart, and the shuttle continued moving upwards on repulsors, Tirdarius carefully dialling the settings up to increase the force of the push off the ground below the shuttle. Once they were clear, he disengaged the repulsors and activated the shuttle's sublight engines, the change simultaneous to ensure that the shuttle kept height and gained momentum all within the same motion. Thrust forward and it moved now with intent to ascend higher into the skies, all movement now directed by the gentle touch of a slender hand against the control yoke. Darkness gave way to dim light as the shuttle shot into the skies, and then gave away once more to darkness as they ascended into the atmosphere and into the cold black of space.

"You have a destination to program into the Navicomputer?", he asked of his companion, deciding to give him the opportunity to at least start being useful on their flight. "Little point being up here if we have nowhere to go and to begin our search," he remarked dryly.

 

[Amilthi]

Rhasru waited for Tirdarius to vacate the seat and then sat down himself in a laid-back manner, placing his hands on the armrests. He watched the Acolyte with an expression of faint amusement. This one didn't seem to be about to give up easily. But in fact, it was improving the Sith's mood rather than angering him.

"Not by being their chauffeur, anyway."

Rhasru was well aware that in asking for their destination, Tirdarius was trying to get him to do something and enter it into the computer, but he had no intention of obliging. Not for this one. "Yes. Plot a course for Nak Shimor", he answered. Barely within Alliance space, Nak Shimor was a small planet that nobody seemed to pay too much attention to, but it was on the Perlemian Trade Route. Given this and the stifling of officially sanctioned trade between the Alliance and the Imperium by the present war, it was natural that a lot of dealing and smuggling was going on in that place right now.

Mirielle, the missing Acolyte, and her companion had been there because of some rumor that someone was planning to... move some kind of artifact, but apparently, it had turned out to be misinformation. Rhasru hadn't inquired any further - Mirielle had disappeared shortly before they had been to fly home, and there was no indication that they had made anyone angry, at least according to the other Acolyte, and he hadn't felt that she was lying. He had no interest in idle speculation - he was going to follow his instincts in this.

He watched Tirdarius enter the target coordinates into the computer and then looked out into the dark of space before them. Then he leaned back in his seat comfortable and turned to the young man again. "Well, now... Tirdarius, is it? What's your story? Or what shall it be?" he asked conversationally.

 

[Tribunal Power]

"You don't know what you believe, do you?"

The young twi'lek woman lowered her lavender eyes and let out a sigh. He was right. Although she had left the Sith, she didn't feel any sort of new direction beyond their grasp. Although she felt like the dark side was an unnatural seduction, she was beginning to think that the light side wasn't all that different either. This Jedi wasn't helping.

"No," she replied with a defeated sigh. "No, I guess I don't."

The Jedi scratched his beard and nodded to her, saying, "Close your eyes. Reach out to the Force. We will meditate together-- I will guide you."

Mirrielle did so, despite her annoyance. The world bled away as her mind cleared, and all she could hear was the chirping of the fowls and the clicking of the insects in the trees around the clearing in which they sat. She could feel the rays of the sun dropping down upon her, the swaying of the trees around her. The black of her eyelids soon became colored with the surrounding world, painted in shades of green and brown and blue. Soon, she was seeing what she knew was the face of this Jedi, the one who called himself Knight Kima-Bur.

It was the first time she'd seen the world around her in the Force, and she'd done it through this Jedi Knight's instruction. Maybe there was something to the light side of the Force after all.

 

[Teynara]

Choosing not to contest the other Sith's directive, though noting it for future reference, Tirdarius input their destination into the Navicomputer. It took a few moments to compute the appropriate co-ordinates for a hyperspace jump - something that would be truly disasterous if done incorrectly - but once it was prepared, it was the work of but a moment to turn the ship onto the appropriate course and then make the transition from sublight into lightspeed. Elongation of stars, coalescing into a single waveform of bright blue and white, Korriban left behind them within but a moment.

He returned to his seat quickly enough, resting against the firm back with little sign of concern over their sudden move to a velocity that would have been more than enough to rip the flesh from their bones at even a fraction of the speed, were it not for the inertial dampeners. The only sound to be heard was the soft exhalation of breath of the ship's two occupants, and the hum of the engines as they reverberated within the metallic hull of the small vessel. That was as Tirdarius preferred it: silence was a tool, one that provoked contemplation, allowed for reflection or worked to simply increase anxiety in those easily unsettled by the absence of noise.

That the other Sith chose to break this peace was irksome enough, but his choice of topic was similarly so. Seeking to learn enough about me to expose a weakness in my defenses, perhaps? That wouldn't have surprised him - the Sith were often fighting amongst themselves, something he personally thought was rather wasteful on the whole, even if it did tend to weed out the idiots. As such, they were always seeking personal advantage over those around them, just in case it became necessary or convenient to stab their companion in the back when they were distracted. A good reason never to let another Sith walk behind you, he thought wryly.

"I doubt you would find my past particularly fascinating," he remarked coldly, deciding that such a conversation was best avoided regardless of the reasons for it. Personal histories are always useless, beyond providing a little insight into one's motives or emotional vulnerabilities, and none of us are the sharing type. "Suffice it to say that old life ends when the Sith take you, and your future among them is always a tenuous thing," Tirdarius observed, turning his cold grey eyes upon his travelling companion. "One would think you would spend your energies focusing upon our purpose for being here rather than mulling over irrelevancies," he continued.

Theirs was a curious objective, certainly: to locate an Acolyte who had vanished on a mission. Not unusual in and of itself - many fell at those early stages, bested by challenges they could not overcome, but this was considered different by the hierarchy since the girl had been accompanied by another, and they had survived. The Sith believed that she had gone rogue, whether to abandon their ideals or seek her own glory independent of her brethren, and this was not something done lightly. And so here they were, sent to seek her out and either bring her back into the fold that she might be better taught the consequences of her actions, or to be removed from consideration among the Order. Permanently.

Personally, Tirdarius had little intention of seeking the girl's death. No doubt she had found herself confused by the mission she had embarked upon, perhaps reaching a point of emotional conflict within herself, or maybe simply repulsed by their way of life, seeking a different path altogether. Maybe she had found a source of power she believed might elevate her in the ranks, or perhaps had even been killed by her fellow Acolyte who had refrained from claiming the kill in case retribution might come from their superiors. If she still lived, she was still a resource that could be tapped, and he would see that she lived long enough to be of use to the Sith.

Somehow, though, he had the suspicion that his companion had more uncivilised intentions. That would bear watching.

 

[Amilthi]

Rhasru laughed at the repeated attempt to frame him as incompetent, this time with a little hint of derision in his voice. "Perhaps another time, then. Though it would certainly have been more interesting than pondering the deep significance of our presence in hyperspace", he said, his tone turning clearly sarcastic on the last words. There was no point in talking to the lad anymore. He could now hardly change his behavior without appearing foolish; he had made a point of signalling that he had his own agendas and didn't need anyone, and now he was stuck with that. Very well, so be it.

Looking through the window into the swirls of blue around the ship, the Sith wondered whether this Acolyte would be at all useful, or only a nuisance with his silly games. He was obviously exceedingly conceited, and there was no telling how far he would go to prove whatever he so foolishly felt a need to prove - probably that he was to be taken more seriously than his superior. It was a pity that what they had to do here was so easy, or Rhasru would have enjoyed letting him screw something up. But the Sith didn't have the patience to mull over this very long, he wasn't going to let an annoying youth dictate the content of his thought. There was nothing he could possibly do that Rhasru wouldn't be able to deal with.

***​

Two men, both wearing simple robes, one in black, the other in dark gray, stepped through the door of a spaceport cantina. The place was in reasonably good shape, it wasn't a poor world, after all. The room was filled not only with the native vultans and humans, but also all sorts of off-worlders of various species who were on the journey through. What other place was there to start asking around. The fact that the girl they were looking for was a Twi'lek was fortunate - she would certainly have drawn eyes to herself and be remembered if anybody here had seen her.

Rhasru had a quick look around before approaching the bar to take a seat. "I'll have a Johrian whiskey", he told the bartender, a vultan man flamboyantly dressed in a glossy dark-blue shirt with golden stars. The Sith smiled inwardly, wondering if Tirdarius would speak the snarky comment he surely had on his mind out aloud. Leaning on the counter, he turned to look at the young man and see what he would do.

 

[Tribunal Power]

After a long day of meditation, Mirrielle departed from the Jedi with a lot on her mind. She walked the woods for a while, pondering and deliberating. She felt like the Sith Academy was the right place for her, the only place where she could gain the power she wanted. But the Jedi had a point-- even with power in this world, what power would she really have? Being able to cast lightning and choke people did nothing for the needs inside her heart. In her time with Kima-Bur, she felt an openness in the Force that she had never experienced before, almost feeling... At peace.

Her wandering took her back to the city, where she entered hoping to find food. She was a terrible hunter, and she hadn't eaten all day. Mirrielle struggled to recall the name of the city as she moved to the markets, digging into the pouch on her hip for the last few credits she carried to purchase sustenance for herself. The markets weren't far from the spaceport, where her shuttle sat docked.

Out of resources, Mirrielle knew she would have to make a choice soon: return to the academy, or go with the Jedi. To stay on the planet much longer would mean her death, either by starvation or by whatever Sith agents the academy might have sent after her. Mirrielle was not so naive to think that she could just walk away, which was part of why she wanted so badly to take the Jedi philosophy and escape, but she just couldn't. Kima-Bur was right-- she didn't know what she believed anymore.

Stopping in the street to eat, Mirrielle let out a heavy sigh and closed her eyes, wishing all of this were easier.

 

[Teynara]

This sounds like the start of a rather bad joke, Tirdarius thought as his grey eyes became accustomed to the gloom of the bar they had entered. Two Sith walk into a Cantina... A faint smile crossed his face, adding a little warmth to his normally cold expression, though it didn't exactly go far towards making him seem approachable. Nor should it, he thought reflectively. Ours are not the type to make casual acquaintance. Indeed, as far as Tirdarius was concerned, the people around them would be far safer if they stayed as far away from the Sith as possible.

He took a place next to his companion, watching the people within with cold grey eyes, assessing each of them and scanning them with more subtle Force energies, in case any had taken particular notice to their arrival and ascribed some meaning to it. If anyone is watching for us, it won't be too difficult to sense, he noted, though in truth Tirdarius had few expectations of the cantina's patrons. Most of them won't even offer us a second glance, which in truth was probably for the best. But if anyone should take special notice, that will only draw our attentions to them. The irony wasn't lost on him by any means.

The other Sith seemed perfectly at home in such a place, a thought which amused Tirdarius no end. Cantinas really weren't something he'd much associated with, personally - in truth, they were designed to be a social environment, somewhere you could go to meet with friends or perhaps find someone of similar interests to you, a place to enjoy a drink in good company. And we are solitary creatures, despite what we might express outwardly, Tirdarius observed. It made it all the more a matter of interest to see one like Rhasru act in a more social manner.

"I will take a glass of Kavasa Juice," he said calmly, ordering a non-alcoholic beverage with barely a glance in the direction of the bartender, the disdain he felt for the being's appearance only somewhat apparent in his expression. Dress like a fool and you'll likely be perceived as one, he noted inwardly, but refrained from commenting. My 'friend' will no doubt take note of all that is said here, Tirdarius reflected. Best to be circumspect.

"You imagine someone in hiding likely to frequent a Cantina?", he asked, his grey eyes flickering over to his Sith companion, wondering at the logic of their presence here. If there is a better way to announce that two Sith are here looking for a third, I've yet to see it. In truth, he was only mildly surprised that they hadn't simply walked up to the Planetary Governor and demanded assistance in seeking out the renegade Acolyte. "I would be surprised if anyone here would recognise a Sith purely by sight, and none of them seem overly interested in our presence, so we have not been expected..."

 

[Amilthi]

Rhasru looked at his companion with a raised eye-brow while the bartender poured their drinks. "I'd be surprised if I recognized a Sith purely by sight. I haven't heard that they wear any kind of insignia, or do you know something I don't? Anyway, I surely don't hope this matter has anything to do with them...", he responded quietly.

"Ah, thanks", he told the vultan with a smile and a hint of a nod as he was handed his glass. The man put Tirdarius's juice on the counter, too, and watched Rhasru take a sip, frowning, apparently hesitating slightly. "Hey, don't I know you... ?" he asked eventually.

"I don't think so. At least, I haven't been on this planet before", the Sith replied casually. "But listen, there's someone you might just have seen...", he added, leaning forward. He put his glass down, and his hand disappeared in this robes. After some fidgeting, he produced a datapad which he put on the counter. Slowly, he pushed a few buttons and then finally turned it around for the barkeeper to look at. "I don't suppose you'd have any trouble telling if you know her", he said with a suggestive smile.

The display showed a picture of a young Twi'lek woman with remarkable lavender-colored eyes.

Rhasru leaned back, re-availed himself of his glass, and took a draft of the brown liquid in it. He actually liked its earthy taste, with just a tinge of sweetness hidden in it. If he wanted, he could easily purge himself of the poison it contained at any time, but curiously, he had discovered that even if he didn't do so, its effect on him was unusually short-lived. He didn't know why. That Tirdarius, on the other hand, had chosen a non-alcoholic beverage was entirely expected. What confused Rhasru slightly was that the Acolyte seemed puzzled that they were visiting this place. But it probably wouldn't take long until he learned what the lad thought was a better idea.

 

[Tribunal Power]

As she finished her meager meal, she longed for something to wash it down with. A quick glance at the sun told her that it was late afternoon, which meant Lomar down at the cantina was still working. He was the owner's adopted son, and a Vultan-- the only of his kind that Mirrielle had ever known. They had become friends over time, and he was occasionally privy to slipping her free drinks every now and then. Sometimes that made it worth it to visit the cantina. She suspected he did so out of less than honorable intentions, but she didn't mind-- even that was a nicety she'd given up for the Sith.

Turning toward the cantina, she wondered if perhaps she should just give it all up. Damn the Sith, damn the Jedi-- maybe she should just pretend she wasn't Force-sensitive and live like everyone else in the galaxy, squeezing out a meager existence in a factory or on a farm somewhere.

Nudging open the door of the cantina, her eyes glanced over the bar to find Lomar. He was standing behind it, speaking with two men, and looking over something on a datapad. As she took a step inside, he lifted his eyes from the datapad to see her, and their eyes met for a moment. Normally, he would smile to see her, maybe make a wisecrack at her. But this time, he just gave her a blank look, a troubled glint in his eyes, almost like he was pretending not to see her. Pretending...

Mirrielle's carelessness washed away as she saw his face, and she grasped the Force in her mind. The world felt to her through reverberations of the Force, and suddenly there was an explosion of activity from within the cantina, and not far from her... From the two men Lomar was speaking with.

With a silent swear, Mirrielle turned around sharply and tried to exit as casually as she could whilst still being quick about it. If she had seen their Force signature, she figured they had probably seen hers as well-- who else could they be but agents come for her? The only other person on the planet she had met with such a strong resonance was her Jedi friend, but these ones felt... Different somehow. She didn't want to linger to find out why.

Making her way out of the cantina, she tried to duck around the corner to make her way down an alley toward a backstreet, which would take her out of the city. She needed to get to the woods-- maybe she could disappear there.

 

[Teynara]

Restraining the impulse to roll his eyes at what Rhasru had implied in his conversation with the barkeep, Tirdarius picked up his glass of Kasava Juice and took a tentative sip. The glass felt cold against the pale skin of his hand, the liquid within clearly having spent some time being chilled, and this was reflected in the way the taste of it assaulted his tongue, sharp and distinctly lacking in warmth. For once, an establishment that knows how to serve a good fruit juice, he thought with a hint of a smile. It was so hard to find people who knew what they were doing these days...

He wasn't entirely certain whether or not that same resigned thought might be applied to his colleague on this little venture. Rhasru certainly carried himself with confidence, but then that wasn't to say that he wouldn't confidently stride right off a cliff if he believed it best. Most fools act in confidence without cause, Tirdarius observed. Assuming they have control within a given situation when too many of the variables are unknown. No matter. If that came to pass, Tirdarius would be sure to give him a goodbye wave as he went over the precipice. Seemed like the least he could do.

On the other hand, it would not have surprised him to learn that this 'Mirielle' girl was observing them even now. Force Users tend to gravitate towards one-another, their unique connections bringing them in orbit given that we are so few in number, compared to the mundane members of the population. He was already restraining his own presence within the Force to ensure that he would not be easily detected - a useful little trick, though one difficult for him to maintain, given how complicated it actually was. But just as our presence might serve as a beacon for the girl to return to the fold, it might equally be the warning light telling her to stay away, he reasoned. All truly depended on her reasons for not having returned to the Order.

"What makes you think this one's not a friend likely to warn her of those questioning her location?", Tirdarius asked, his voice a whisper, audible only to the two of them. "If you imagine her allure likely to be so unforgettable, it's perfectly possible that she has wielded that to her own advantage, and has allies her among the mundanes," he remarked, feeling not for the first time that such an overt approach might be entirely to their disadvantage.

At least I know we're not likely to face a lightsaber in the back from that source, he surmised, though he was fully expecting one from Rhasru at some point in the near future. Perhaps I should just keep provoking him, see how long it takes, Tirdarius thought with a faint smile. Still, it already seemed obvious that the Acolyte they were seeking would not be likely to threaten them. The risk here then comes if she manages to contact the Jedi Order, if indeed she is seeking their air at all, he noted.

"Are you aware of any Jedi currently assigned to this world?", he asked the bartender, turning a level grey-eyed gaze towards the man. Jedi weren't so frequent an occurrence that it would likely have passed beneath the notice of one who probably collected information for barter as much as he did drinks. And if there are Jedi here, we'll have a fair idea of where to seek our young comrade...

 

[Amilthi]

Rhasru was getting moderately annoyed with the lad for his constant whispered commentary, which did not only look suspicious, but had also degenerated into objecting for the sake of objecting. Of course Rhasru had not considered the possibility that a randomly chosen barkeeper might be a friend of the person they were looking for who would have the opportunity to warn her in any way that could be hindering them in their search. He was not in the business of sitting around all day pondering remote possibilities and ending up not accomplishing anything. He preferred to meet unlikely obstacles if and when they arose, instead of wasting time beforehand finding a way around a problem that was likely not even there.

As a result, he looked at Tirdarius with a confused expression that somehow came across as dismissive. He shook his head slightly, turning back to the barkeeper. Noticing the man's gaze past both of them, he froze. Rhasru didn't have to look; he just knew that there was a person there who held significance, unlike the nondescript patrons around them. It might even be who they were here for.

His mood improved even further when it became obvious that his young companion hadn't noticed and instead continued to question the barkeeper. "I'll never understand your fascination with those people", he said audibly at the mention of the Jedi. "I'm afraid we can't stay to indulge it, either", he added with a smirk, without even turning to face the younger man. He had sat down his glass, and making a relaxed gesture with his hand, he quietly addressed the barkeeper. "The drinks are on the house", he informed the man, the smirk still on his face.

Not waiting to see the reaction of his young companion, he got up and strode out of the establishment onto the street.

 

[Tribunal Power]

As she stood in the alley, she dared a look back toward the way she had come. There was no one tailing her. Perhaps they hadn't seen her-- or perhaps they weren't there for her at all. No, that was too remote a possiblity-- why else would they be there, questioning Lomar? And that look he gave her... It practically screamed 'run'.

Her hesitation was brief. She moved from the alley, albeit at a more casual pace, and crossed the backstreet to leave the city and head back towards the woods. That was where she spent most of her time these days; either meditating alone or with the Jedi Knight Kima-Bur.

As the trees began to surround her, she slowly began to feel the sense of security she felt in the woods. This was the closest thing she had to a home.