Umbaran Hospitality

[Sierrien]

All things considered, Lairiel was excited. She had actually been excited since Mila had accepted her as an apprentice. Even though most of the other acolytes were always griping about how hard the crusaders were and how they'd kill them one day - well, Lairiel didn't feel like that. She wasn't resentful or bitter, no matter how hard Mila pressed or pushed her, or how much the training might hurt. Mila was the first person she had met since the accident that the voices didn't react to, or at least not like they did for anyone else she had tried to get closer to. She thought it was because she could stand to learn so much from the woman that her subconscious had decided to step aside and just let her learn all she could, so that she could finally start to become strong. She had basic training and was decent with the Force, but she had never truly applied herself before now. That was all the more evident by the training saber she had been using up until now; but with Mila's help that would soon change. She had somehow managed to convince the Crusader to help her create a new one. Though she suspected it might be that Mila had too much pride to let her apprentice run around at her side with a training saber.

The first step had been for her to choose a crystal. With Mila's help she was looking through the crystals available to her, and a few that weren't technically available to her either. She was currently biting her lip as her hand hovered over the best of the red crystals, and she looked to be close to picking it.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

She was nervous. Mila had summoned her to a hanger bay without telling her what their mission would be. She was left to assume that either the Crusader was going to tell her where they were going on the way there, or she was being left in the dark to work on her skills in being prepared for anything. She had done her best to do that today; she had a backpack with what she was currently counting as her 'combat outfit' as well as enough water and rations to last a week in it as well. She felt that counted as being prepared for anything, since the outfit in her backpack would be good for a variety of different climates.

At the moment, however, she was wearing something that could be called her new 'style'. If there was one thing that Mila had an immediate impact on with Lairiel, it was her wardrobe. Seeing all of the dark outfits that Mila was want to wear, well.. she had decided to make her own outfits rather sunny in comparison. It had been subconscious, but she had basically just decided to start wearing the exact opposite of the Crusader. That was pretty obvious at the moment, since she was wearing a white sun dress that made it look like she was expecting to go somewhere sunny and lay on the beach.

She sat down to wait for Mila; she knew how this usually went. She had shown up at the hangar fifteen minutes early just to be sure she wasn't late, and from what she had been told she could be expecting to wait anywhere from those fifteen minutes to hours from now. She was on Mila's clock, not the other way around. So she sat on a crate outside of the ship she was pretty sure was the one they would be going on, or at least it was in the right hangar, and waited for Mila to arrive. She was sitting so that she could watch for Mila's approach and shift to stand as she did, so as not to appear like she was just being lazy. For now though, she would enjoy her sit.

 

[Gamov]

KORRIBAN ACADEMY
TWO WEEKS AGO

Hojicha tea and the dulcet tones of her favorite music. Were there any finer things in life than these? The question was rhetorical, of course. There was nothing more sublime to the Crusader than such luxuries - and she certainly felt as if she needed them today more than ever. Her nerves had been a bit on edge as of late with the recent rumblings of dissent and secession cropping up among some members of the Order. She had passed them off as little more than the aggravated grumblings of disgruntled Acolytes at first. But when a number of Crusaders added their voices to the growing chorus and began expressing similar sentiments, even spreading rumors that members of the Dark Council themselves were involved... she'd rather not think about such things. She'd much rather engross herself with her studies and let the Sith who wanted to murder each other for paltry status do so. So long as they let her be. But even she had to admit to herself at some point that she couldn't avoid the coming storm forever. She hadn't escaped it as a girl on Terminus - there was no hope of her outrunning it here in the heart of the Imperium.

Shifting her ruminations aside with a sip of tea, Mila turned her attentions to Lairiel. Watching the girl tinker away at the components to her lightsaber reminded her what it had been like to construct her own. After much grousing and churlish foot stomping on her part, there was a certain measure of pride that somehow made the whole laborious task seem worth it. Combat had never been Mila's strong suit - it was a vulgar, messy, sweaty affair that she didn't much care for. But there was something about crafting her own saber that made her feel oddly complete. She felt naked without it, and sometimes she felt as if she treasured the stupid thing more than any other possession. Ah, but that was probably due to some silly notion of pride. She was expected to maintain a certain image now - for the benefit of the other students or the image of the Imperium though, she could hardly tell - but she could hardly maintain any kind of image, much less respect, if she were still using one of those miserable training sabers.

So as she had done, so too would Lairiel. Even if she did complain about the bumps and bruises along the way.

"Choose carefully." She commented from the side rather off-handedly. "This weapon will be just as much a part of your image as your clothing. Make certain it is the proper image." Some fairly cheesy platitude about letting the Force speak to her through the crystals rolled through the back of her head for a second, and Mila half scoffed at. "Do not rush. Take your time to feel your choice... let your... emotions... something, something." Her last words were muffled by her tea cup as she took a measured drink, hoping Lairiel had been too enthralled with her task to have listened to the mindless drivel she had just vomited up.

----​

ZIOST ACADEMY
PRESENT DAY
1:30 PM

"Will you be gone long?"

"I hope not."

Prepping for missions was always a pain in the ass for Mila. For starters, she hated being plucked from the comfort of the temple to be shipped off to some miserable piss hole on the other side of the Empire. She would much rather stay in with a good book or spend some quality time with Mister Skittles - Force knows the poor thing was probably feeling more than a little neglected. She hadn't bee able to spend nearly as much time playing with the Corbenic since her promotion, the bulk of those duties falling to her handmaiden Kazumi as of late. But she couldn't just refuse orders from her superiors. If they wanted her on some miserable rock out in the ass end of nowhere, then that's where she needed to be. It still irritated her that she had to play lackey for someone, but at least she wasn't rubbing elbows with those miserable Acolytes anymore. Thank God.

"Well, I do wish you a safe journey, my Lady."

Mila rolled her eyes. Kazumi always one for the sappy sentiments. "Thanks, I guess." The Crusader passed the gesture off casually as she finished checking her gear, cinching her jacket up a bit tighter before securing a respirator over her face and tucking a pair of night vision specs into a spare pouch on her hip. "I expect my things to be in pristine order when I return." She added, ensuring that her lightsaber was secure in its rightful place on her hip before slipping a spare stilletto into a hidden scabbard on her thigh and adjusting the fit on the palm shooter inconspicuously concealed beneath her sleeve.

"Of course, my Lady." The Yu bowed politely.

"I mean it, Kazumi. If anything, and I do mean anything, is out of place when I get back..." She needn't finish that sentence, the punishment for failure one the Handmaiden was all too familiar with. Exchanging a silent nod with her servant, Mila turned briskly on her heel and made for the hangar. She only hoped that Lairiel wasn't late. "God help her if she's even a second late" She thought as she made the trip from her private quarters to the hangar in no time. It was a path she was quite familiar with by now - she was certain she could walk it blindfolded if she had to.

Walking into the hangar, however, Mila was greeted at first by the pleasant surprise of her waiting apprentice. Seemed the girl had a better sense of timing that she did at that age. But her choice of attire... it... words failed to describe just how confused she was. Did Lairiel think they were going on a pleasure cruise? More over... what the hell with a sun dress? Really? She cringed at the brightly colored garment, the thing briefly putting her in a mind to remember her sister's eccentric tastes for some reason. With a weary sigh from behind her respirator, Mila added a certain stiffness to her posture as she approached, barking the girl's name out to catch her attention in the process. "Lairiel! Explain that... thing." She scoffed, waving a hand towards the dress. "Are you being serious here? Or are you mentally defective?" Part of her wanted to throw the girl out into the nearest snowbank to illustrate her point. And another part of her found that thought impossibly amusing. "Put some proper clothes on. You're a Sith, not a fashion model."

 

[Sierrien]

Korriban​

Her work on her new lightsaber was going.. well, slowly. It was a lot of tediously hard work, and whenever she messed up she would usually have to just restart whatever piece she had been working on. And then there was that she had gotten nearly done her hilt when Mila had pointed out that it would be part of her image, just as much as her clothing. She had started to slowly change her own clothing, somewhat copying Mila's style a bit. She paused in constructing her hilt then and looked towards Mila as the woman drank some tea and cut herself off with it. She kind of got the idea that Mila was half assing this! But her new mistress was at least keeping her company with it, even if it was just so that she could make those peanut gallery comments.

Her eyes shifted over Mila's form for a few moments, then towards the woman's lightsaber. Then she moved her eyes back to the hilt she had been making, and she noticed that it would end up looking similar to the crusader's. Probably had something to do with her becoming somewhat infatuated with the woman. But now, with that comment fresh in her mind.. she had a better idea. She looked back to her work and abandoned that hilt, starting over from scratch. She shifted a bit now so that she could block what she was doing with her body, apparently not wanting Mila to see what she was doing now as she would be slowly crafting pink metal in to the shape of her chosen hilt style. Oh yes, she was certainly going to make it part of 'her image'. "Thank you for the advice, Mila." she let out then as she really started to work then, clearly putting much more effort in to and getting passionate about it now.

Ziost​

The other thing she had changed was her own personal sense of style. It was now her goal to embarrass Mila as best she could, by wearing things that either completely didn't fit with what they were doing, or just by beeing obnoxiously cute or bright as she could. Her current dress was no exception. She was actually caught up with grinning at her own ingenuity when Mila approached, so she didn't even notice the Crusader until her name had been barked out loudly. She jumped up quickly, startled out of her reverie by the barking words of Mila.

She looked down at herself as her dress was gestured at and called a 'thing', and then the woman was questioning if she was serious or if there was something wrong with her head. Well, there probably was, but that was besides the fact. A sith and not a fashion model? "Aww, Mistress, Can't I be both?" she let out then with a giggle, her hand shifting to pick her backpack - she wasn't dumb enough to just not do what the Crusader told her to. In fact, and possibly just to make a little bit of a point... She unzipped her backpack before her sun dress was dropped to the floor. Apparently she was going to get changed right there without even a shred of modesty about it. Soon enough she was instead in a much darker outfit.

She stuffed her dress in to the backpack then and turned back towards Mila, assuming the Crusader hadn't just moved on in to the ship at least, and shouldered her backpack to show she was ready to go. "How is this?" If Mila had moved on.. well, she would turn and dart in to the ship after the woman.

 

[Gamov]

It was fortunate she had the respirator to conceal the slack jawed look that scrawled across her features. Lairiel's disregard for even basic modesty... well, it elicited a whole range of emotions from shock and disappointment, to a little respect. To be that bold and show hardly a shred of shame - she wasn't sure if she should slap Lairiel or commend her. Whatever her feelings though, she was at least courteous enough to avert her attention behind an agitated sigh as she feigned irritation, clinching her eyes shut and pinching the bridge of her nose. "Lairiel, you... ugh." She couldn't even think of a decent way to finish that thought. At least the new outfit seemed slightly more practical, so at least there was that. "It's fine." Mila considered scolding the girl further before waving the idea off with an agitated grumble and boarding the shuttle.

The cabin was small and cramped, as one might expect it to be. These Imperial shuttles weren't often designed with comfort in mind. But at least the maintenance crews had already come and gone, leaving the shuttle to them. And that's when the thought finally hit her like a ton of bricks... she'd be stuck in this tin can for days. With Lairiel. A moment of wide-eyed realization coalesced on Mila's face. It was bad enough the little urchin had developed a habit of showing up in strange places. But being strapped in next to her until they reached Umbara? "Oh no." She wanted to bang her head off the nearest hard object to try and knock herself out. The pain would feel merciful next to her Apprentice's embarrassingly quirky behavior.

"Lairiel! Hurry up!" Mila moved towards the cockpit and began making some pre flight checks to the shuttle's systems, warming the engines while the navicomputer ran through a brief diagnostic to check critical systems for any bugs. Assuming her Apprentice had managed to find her way inside the ship without doing something irredeemably stupid between here and there, Mila would ask her one simple question. "Have you ever been to Umbara?"

 

[Sierrien]

Lairiel had to fight not to let out a giggle as Mila held the bridge of her nose and closed her eyes, not even seeming to watch her get changed. And seeming somewhat annoyed by her getting changed right there. Well, it's not like there was anyone else around, and she wasn't shy about Mila seeing her in her underthings, apparently. She saw it as a sign of how close they were getting. Even if Mila didn't see it that way, and it was all rather forced on her end. She grinned wide as Mila said her new outfit was fine, shouldering her backpack and strode on to the ship. As she did, though, she heard Mila bark at her to hurry up and hurried her steps, scrambling in to sit on a couch and make it look like she had totally been there the whole time when Mila looked back from the cockpit. There was absolutely no lollygagging going on back here, that was certain. Lairiel was just a model of being not irredeemably stupid, so Mila would clearly get to asking that single question.

She considered that question for a few moments, some clear hesitation written across her face. She had actually been to the planet and had a fairly embarrassing escapade there, but it certainly wasn't something she wanted to bring up to Mila. No, that was a memory she was going to keep to herself. So instead, she tried to make it look like she had hesitated because she didn't know what Umbara was. "Is that one of the cities on Ziost? I haven't heard of it..." She trailed off then, wondering if she had just made herself out to be a little too dumb. What kind of idiot didn't know what Umbara was? Apparently, whatever kind of idiot she was. She would have to talk quickly to try and cover that up and distract Mila. Which was probably.. exactly what Mila didn't want. A bunch of quirky questions coming from her new apprentice she was probably regretting taking in the first place!

"What are we doing there? Do they have anything good to eat? Will we have time to go shopping? Would you like to borrow my dress, it'll be way more comfy for the flight there?" Okay, the last one may have just been her being more than a little bit of a smart ass, but Lairiel still seemed to be in a good mood despite how cranky Mila was. Or maybe it was because of how cranky Mila was? Perhaps she fed off of Mila's negative energies and turned it in to positive, bouncy energy for herself. She was actually sitting with her feet on the couch on either side of her, her weight pressing on her knees and she was bouncing up and down about an inch, fairly rapidly, as she blurted out her stream of questions without even letting Mila have a moment to answer them until she had asked them all. Her newly completed lightsaber was also not on her person; likely it was in the backpack she had brought along with her. Or else she had been an idiot and forgotten it by being a little too caught up in surprising Mila with her new dress. Which had gone off fabulously, she thought.

 

[Gamov]

Surprisingly, the fact that Lairiel didn't know what, or where, Umbara was actually didn't irritate Mila quite as much as one might think. Hell, she could barely name half the planets in the Imperium herself, and even fewer cities on those planets. She could count the ones she knew well on one hand and still have fingers to spare. With what started as a forced, albeit amused chuckle, she started to correct the girl. "No, it's..."

And that's all the farther she got before she was overwhelmed by a barrage of mundane questions. Mila stammered around half formed thoughts between Lairiel's outbursts, but she could hardly get a word in edge wise against her. Most Sith might have hauled off and railed the girl upside the head with the nearest heavy object by now. But Mila was just too entranced by her own morbid stupefaction to be able to muster anything beyond a few unintelligible grumbles. After a minute or so, she just gave up trying to speak and let the bouncy little Acolyte exhaust herself. "Shopping? Oh yes, we'll go shopping. And I'm buying a damn gag for you!" She kept that thought to herself, though the reflexive frown that pinched her brow in response to it might have given it away that she was being less than entertained by these shenanigans.

"It's... not a city." she managed as Lairiel finally shut up. A lingering sense of hesitation crept into her words, however. The last thing she wanted to do was set off another firestorm of asinine questions. "It's a planet in the Ghost Nebula. Home to the Imperium's premiere academy for aspiring assassins. It never sees sunlight... ever." She added some extra emphasis there to drive the point home that neither Lairiel or herself were ever going to have use for something like that... that... "dress" of hers on that planet. "But something has gone wrong at one of the training facilities there. Students missing, rumors of corruption, yadda, yadda. Naturally the Sith need someone to clean up their mess. And naturally, that job has fallen to me... er... us." Mila hesitated again for a second or two, almost regretting her words as they formed in her head. "Before we go, do you have any actual questions?"

By now the shuttle had finished its automated diagnostics procedure and systems were showing green across the board. Barring another ridiculous tirade like before, they could actually be off if there were no burning questions that her Apprentice just had to know the answers to. But it was more likely that Mila would be inclined to simply ignore them by this point and get on with her job. As she probably already should be.

 

[Sierrien]

She didn't have to wait too long for Mila to answer her questions - or at least, some of her questions. She stopped bouncing as she listened, actually paying attention to what they were going to the planet to do. Belatedly, she was aware that it was a good thing she had pretended not to know what Umbara was. If Mila knew that she had been prepared to wear a sun dress to a planet that didn't actually ever get any sun... well, she'd probably be getting beat right now. Instead she just got a rather derisive 'do you have any actual questions' as if she hadn't just asked a bunch of totally legitimate questions! At least like.. one of them had been worthy of an answer. And Mila had answered that one. She opened her mouth to ask another rather smart assed question, probably something to do with local fashion or something else that would annoy Mila - and then apparently thought better of it, instead closing her mouth and shaking her head. She had decided not to push her luck - at least for a little bit.

She followed Mila in to the cockpit instead and strapped herself in to the co-pilot's chair. She didn't know a damn thing about piloting, so she made a rather horrible co-pilot, but at least she knew how to read a navigation map. At least enough to notice that this trip was going to take days. She blinked at it, and then looked slowly towards Mila. Was the Crusader aware of what she had just subjected herself to? Then again, perhaps she should tone down her new-found bubbliness and try to be a bit more normal. In such close confines as this, there was a good chance that Mila just might kill her before the few days of travelling were up. And what were they going to spend the time travelling doing? She wondered if the Crusader played Sabacc. More likely, she would just spend the time drilling some training in to Lairiel while drinking tea herself. At least the training would probably be relevant for whatever they were going to find on this planet. Some kind of secret assassin facility she hadn't ever heard of. Sounded like it would be a blast.

She blinked then and glanced back in to the cabin; the ship was small enough that there was not really a room other than that one. It probably had a fold out bed, or the couch somehow turned in to one - but that meant she and Mila would basically be sharing one small little room for three days. She gulped - yeah, she would need to try and tone down the bubbliness. Now that she was letting it out though, it was hard to repress. It was like her inner child that had 'died' all those years ago in the crash was finally free, and she had all this pent up giddiness that just refused to stay buried. Really, it was all Mila's fault, so the Crusader only had herself to blame. Of course if Lairiel pointed it out, Mila would probably smack her. Or worse. Another thought occurred to her and she turned to look back towards Mila, pretty much just staring at the woman. She tended to do this from time to time as well, as she had developed... something of a crush or infatuation with the woman. "Does this mean we'll be sharing a bed?" Yeah, she asked all of the important questions.

 

[Gamov]

Lairiel didn't seem to have anything to say for herself. No apologies, no questions, no random comments about the first inane thought to pop into her psychotic little mind. Oh happy day! Mila probably would have smiled or done a little dance, but she settled instead for the blissful silence that followed. With a short sigh and a quick nod, she went and strapped herself in for the flight, making a few last minute adjustments to their course and plotting a new route into the navicomputer that would shave a few hours off their trip. Not much of a "shortcut" in the grand scheme of things, and probably an alteration that few pilots would even bother making. But none of them had to endure three days with Lairiel as their co-pilot either. It had actually taken a significant degree of concentration, and an overwhelming sense for her own well being, to keep the Crusader from plotting a course that would take them directly into the heart of the nearest supernova.

Fortunately she had dodged that bullet. For now anyway.

As she finished prepping the shuttle's flight systems, Lairiel slipped into the co-pilot's seat and strapped herself in. Thankfully she kept to herself and stayed quiet, but she couldn't help but notice her strange wandering gaze - back and forth between the crew cabin and... herself. Mila tried to ignore it, fiddling with a few more controls, getting the shuttle airborne and headed for orbit soon enough. And yet, Lairiel's erratic behavior persisted. Stifling a sigh behind her mask, the Crusader watched the indicator for the ship's hyperdrive as it spun up. All that was left to do no was initiate the drive and... and then came a question that fronze Mila dead. She sat in grim silence for a few short seconds, trying to figure out if Lairiel had really just asked her that, or if she had suffered a massive stroke at some point and was beginning to hallucinate. Of course she knew it wasn't the latter. But it would have made a lot more sense if it was.

Finally turning to face the girl, she cocked an eyebrow at her and her cheeks rose ever so slightly from behind the edge of her mask in a concealed grin. "Of course. I can't expect you to sleep on the floor now can I?" In the next instant though, the Crusader's demeanor turned fiery and the barbed sarcasm in her tone became blatantly evident. A disgusted sneer twisted her features as she reached out to her Apprentice through the Force with malicious intent, lightly constricting her windpipe with a thought. "I am not your friend. This is not a social outing. We are on a mission, and you will act like a professional. Do I make myself clear?" She'd release her telepathic hold just as quickly once she was satisfied Lairiel understood.

Assuming she managed to get her message across the first time and there was no need to repeat herself, Mila would finalize their jump to Umbara with a few deft keystrokes. The shuttle would lurch slightly as the stars around them pinched into infinite strands of light before finally vanishing from Ziost's orbit in the blink of an eye.

 

[Sierrien]

Her question was met with a stretching silence that made her shift in her seat, somewhat nervously. It felt like it lasted hours to her, but really it was only a few seconds of torturous silence. And then Mila turned to look at her and she saw a cocked eyebrow and - was that a grin? Wait, they really were going to share a bed? She felt a blush starting to come to her cheeks - she was just trying to be impish and now... Everything changed in the next instant as the crusader suddenly grew extremely angry, and Lairiel's eyes went wide with fear as she actually felt the woman constricting her throat a bit with the Force. A quick nod was made to the query about Mila making herself clear, and then she was breathing quickly and looking away as she blinked away tears, and not wanting Mila to see then. Right, of course they weren't going to share a bed. They were on a mission, and she needed to be a professional. Yeah. She wasn't even hurt right now; she was just glad for the reminder. She said it enough times in her head that even she started to believe it.

She had fallen silent and simply sat there in her chair, her head bowed and turned away from Mila. She wasn't going to risk looking back while there might still be the remnants of tears in her eyes, and besides - she was busy berating herself for being an idiot. She just had to go and open her stupid mouth again and again, just keep pushing until she broke something. And now she had. She found that she was actually starting to miss the voices. At least they kept people at arms length, so she didn't end up making a complete fool of herself. She shifted her left arm a bit, bringing her left hand underneath to where she was looking. Slowly she turned it back and forth, as if studying it - for the millionth time since the accident, really. It was her permanent reminder of what had happened; whenever she was feeling particularly self-loathing she had taken to staring at it and remembering dark things. It had helped her to be a better Sith; at the same time it had made her seem less and less sane.

She was at least being quiet, so Mila would know she had at least had some kind of impact on Lairiel. And that was if she hadn't also noticed the quiet tears or that Lairiel had taken to staring at her hand like some kind of creepy... creepy person. Or that she had not made a single peep since she had been reprimanded, though... yeah, that had probably been Mila's intent. Mila would enjoy the rest of the trip in silence though, unless she broke it first, as Lairiel had evidently taken the warning to heart. Even if it was a somewhat more broken heart than it had been before; she was a Sith. She'd have to get used to having her feelings hurt sooner or later; it might as well be sooner. They were in hyperdrive now, leaving Ziost far behind. But there was still a long trip to go; there was a very good chance that the rest of the trip would be rather uneventful though, as Mila had successfully broken Lairiel's bubbly spirit and made her be quiet.

 

[Gamov]

ANTEEVY SYSTEM
DAY 1

All things considered, the first leg of their journey had gone swimmingly. After a brief stop off at an Imperial outpost on Lucazec for rest and supplies they were on their way again, making decent time to the Anteevy system. The hours had passed in silence, Lairiel uttering scarcely a word since they had set out from Ziost. Good. The girl had been entirely too presumptuous and needed to learn where the lines were drawn. Mila felt she had been rather lenient with her punishment, yet she got the sense that Lairiel's feelings were patently the opposite. Fine, if she wanted to pout and whimper about it, she was free to do so. Just so long as Mila didn't have to hear about it later - she wasn't in this to make a friend. Her crestfallen apprentice aside, Mila had decided to use her own time more constructively, taking to meditation to take her mind off her phobia. She hated that she still had these stupid irrational fears about space travel, but everyone was afraid of something - it was just human nature.

Seated quietly in the center of the crew cabin with her legs crossed and eyes closed, Mila had turned her focus inward to soothe her riled nerves. She imagined herself far from this metal death trap, far from her brooding apprentice, far from any worry. In her mind she was back on Ziost enjoying another pleasant morning alone in her private quarters. No Kazumi, no Lairiel, no miserable Acolytes vying for her attentions... just her. Silence, solitude, peace. A slight tremor in the shuttle snapped her abruptly out of her trance, eyes wide as a chill raced down her spine and her pulse rose sharply. Much to her relief, however, they were still in one piece. This flying coffin hadn't fallen apart on them just yet. Gently pushing a calming breath out, the Crusader's eyes roamed to Lairiel. She had noticed the girl had taken to nursing her left hand again, something that only appeared to happen when she seemed particularly stressed or upset. No doubt she was still more than a little despondent for her earlier scolding.

Stretching a bit to work some of the latent tension out of her shoulders, Mila beckoned her apprentice. "Lairiel, come here." Her tone was soft and even, nowhere near as terse as it had been last time she had spoken to her. "Sit." She gestured to floor in front of her and shifted her posture slightly to loosen her back and legs up a bit. If Lairiel had anything to say to her, she would let her speak her piece first, but she rather doubted she had much to say.

 

[Sierrien]

Broody silence was certainly what she had filled the time with. After her first embarrassing bout with having to hide tears, there hadn't been any more at least. That was a plus, but she absolutely wasn't about to open her mouth again and say something, in case she said something that further upset the Crusader. She got the feeling she had been pretty close to death there, or if not death than Mila simply abandoning her. This apprenticeship was by no means set in stone; she could easily by dropped by the wayside and left to fend for herself. They had even stopped at an outpost, and that hadn't even had an effect on her spirits at all.

She was at least feeling more rested now, but still most of her time was spent staring at her left hand, which she could barely convince to move anymore. She was trying to get it under control, but every time she thought about it everything that had happened in the cockpit just spilled back over her mind. Most of the time Mila had been sitting in meditation - and Lairiel was somewhat amazed at her dedication, there was no way she herself could meditate that long - she had spent sitting quietly at the side of the room, staring off in to nothingness or looking towards her hand.

The words suddenly breaking the silence actually made her jump in surprise, even though she heard the level, soft tone in the woman's voice. Was she not mad anymore? She had just beckoned her over.. but maybe it was just so that Mila could smack her easier. She was basically walking to her own doom. Even with that thought she stood and made her way over to the Crusader, standing in front of her. She shifted to sit as she had been instructed then, sitting on her legs and shifting her hands in to her lap, almost looking a bit demure. Really she was just trying to keep attention off her left hand, as her right one was clasped over it. "Yes, Mistress?" she asked after she was seated, her eyes not quite meeting Mila's own.

 

[Gamov]

If there were any lingering doubts as to the depths of Lairiel's melancholy spirits, she rather confirmed just how far she had fallen with one little word: Mistress. Somehow the word sounded more like a curse than a moniker, and for the first time in what felt like months, Mila actually felt a twinge of regret. She had made it fairly clear from the outset that their relationship was a casual one rather unlike most master/apprentice partnerships, allowing Lairiel to refer to her by name if she so desired. But to be called Mistress... it actually made her feel horrible. She felt no better than any of the other Sith whom she spent her idle time chastising for being short sighted masochists without a shred of decency. Still, she couldn't exactly afford herself the luxury of sentimentality. Lairiel would have to work through her own hang ups on her own time. For now, they had more pressing matters to attend to.

"It occurs to me that Umbarans are naturally tricky and untrustworthy. They are deeply secretive and are masters of misdirection. Therefore, it would benefit you to know a few techniques that could help guard your mind against their whiles." Mila cleared her throat as she tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, only now noticing Lairiel's downcast gaze. She really had shattered the poor thing's spirits. Some tiny part of her felt terrible and wanted to apologize profusely. Yet her instincts told her that these hardships were what the girl needed to grow. She would figure out how to work through such things on her own in time, but for now it was obvious to the Crusader that she was still in desperate need of guidance. With a gentle hand, she placed a finger under Lairiel's chin and guided her attention forward, seeing the glassy bloodshot look in them. Had she been... crying?

"Look at me." She said calmly, brushing the rumination aside. She couldn't spare the time to consider Lairiel's emotions or feelings at the moment. They had a job to do. "This technique will work better if we maintain eye contact." Of course, the fact that it was just the two of them would also help immensely. "I want you to clear your mind and focus on me. Nothing else matters, no other thoughts or fears. Just concentrate and let your senses guide you." Mila tried to make the task a little easier, loosening her own emotional reigns a bit and allowing an inkling of her latent regrets to seep into the fore of her own thoughts. Hopefully Lairiel would be keen enough to pick up on it.

 

[Sierrien]

Her head gave a somewhat automatic nod - the Umbarans were tricky and untrustworthy. Some kind of technique was needed to guard against that. Her rational mind told her she should pay more attention, that this was going to be instruction that she not only needed, but that she would find useful for the rest of her days. The melancholy child part of her brain was not currently letting her focus though, instead it wanted to just stare at nothing forever and ever. She was stuck in it; then Mila's hand came forward and tilted her chin up, forcing sudden eye contact even though she blinked once, automatically. Her blinking stopped then as she actually started to listen. She had been told to look at Mila, so she did. They needed to make eye contact - okay, she could do that. And now she needed to... clear her mind and focus just on the Crusader? She was all that mattered, clear our other thoughts and fears.. okay, this was training she could really get behind. She had already been in this mindset immediately prior to the start of their trip, was Mila trying to get her back in to that? A slight flush came to her cheeks, but she ignored it and gave a light nod of her head. "I will try... Mila." she let out, in a soft voice. She seemed to be regaining some of her enthusiasm for being in Mila's presence, just from these soft words and.. well, her taking a liking to the current trend of training.

Right, she was supposed to be pushing other thoughts aside. She breathed in slowly and did that, shifting her focus from mostly being on Mila to entirely being on Mila. First, the visual - the hazel eyes staring back in to hers, oceans she could get lost in. A pretty face she wanted to stare at, and lovely dark hair she was envious of... wait, was she supposed to be thinking about Mila like that, or in a different way? She blinked, breaking the eye contact for a moment, and tried to clear her mind again. Honestly, it was getting harder for her. She tried to focus with her other senses instead; she breathed in again and thought about how good Mila smelled. No, stupid brain, not that sense! Okay - the Force. She should use the Force. Yes. She sent her focus through the force this time, and had much better success in doing something useful. She felt just an inkling of regret coming from the crusader as she opened her own mind up; she wasn't very good at controlling this, but she at least knew how to do this much. It meant that Mila would be privy to just about all of the feelings she was going through right now, the angst and teenage hormones and the self loathing and underneath it all her excitement starting to bubble back up and threaten to take over her again.

She sat still as she stared back at Mila, her mind open, receptive and ready to take in whatever learning the Crusader wanted to impart on her. A smile had crept slowly over her face as she sat there opening her mind; the last day overshadowed by the greater amount of time she had spent with Mila, the majority of which she had enjoyed. And Mila might even learn a bit of why she enjoyed it, perhaps even hearing the whispers that sometimes went through Lairiel's mind. They only had good things to say about Mila, but the Crusader might get an inkling that such was not usually the case. Lairiel's left hand flexed, then she shifted both to sit comfortably over her own knees.

 

[Gamov]

A million muddled ideas whirled around inside Lairiel's head, her presence in the Force radiating pure chaos as she struggled to maintain her focus. Was it really that difficult for her? Frustration was Mila's most immediate reaction to the turmoil riling in her apprentice. If she couldn't manage to control her own frayed emotions then she would surely fall prey to the predations of more treacherous Sith. Yet that frustration gave way in the next instant, yielding confusion of her own as some of Lairiel's more affectionate feelings spilled over. Now it was the Crusader's focus that wavered slightly, not entirely sure what to make of those particular emotions - more taken aback by them than anything else. Once the initial surprise had worn off, however - which was relatively quickly, in fact - Mila realized just how much of her apprentice's behavior had been explained in those few fleeting moments.

The girl wasn't incompetent... she was just angsty, hormonal and misguided. Everything a typical teenage girl tended to be. So why then did she still feel there was something decidedly atypical about her? Mila's instincts guided her through the churning emotional tides of Lairiel's mind as the girl finally managed to get a grip on herself and soothe some of her more boisterous feelings. Her apprentice's mind was open now, receptive to any intrusions. The Crusader had to mentally restrain herself, resisting the urge to tear every corner of Lairiel's mind to shreds just to see what made her tick. Hopes, dreams, fears, she wanted to know them all! for now though, she would settle for a tiny kernel. Just enough to sate her appetite.

Shifting a bit, Mila let out an even breath as she peered back at Lairiel, gently probing along the fringes of her mind with her own senses. "Do you remember what I told you about misconceptions?" She asked, her focus never breaking. "Your enemies will try to break you down however they can. Even if that means using your own mind against you. This is not a question of if, but when." She sifted through Lairiel's thoughts, searching for something she might be able to use to illustrate her point. There were a plethora of anxieties broiling just under the surface, many of which seemed to focus on her deeper sentiments towards the Crusader. She could easily play on those, but Mila wanted something better. Something with more impact. Something with deeper roots. Something that... ah, there it was. Family.

With her mind so open, it was hardly any contest at all for Mila to hone in on those painful memories. Vivid flashes of pain and grief, brief though they were. They painted a brilliant picture of exquisite cataclysm to her, and she knew then she had her weapon. Subtly, Mila began plying at those memories, using their twisted fragments to begin corrupting the picture in Lairiel's mind. A small shift here and a gentle tweak there and suddenly the memory seemed as if it was no one's fault but Lairiel's. The accident had been her fault all along. Or so the Cursader wished her to believe. "Your dossier never mentioned a family. Keeping secrets are we?" Another lie, the verbal hook to draw it all together. Of course Lairiel's dossier had mentioned a family, it had even mentioned their untimely end.

"I wonder how they'd feel today if they were still alive, knowing their little girl was growing up a failure." More harsh words, but words spoken with more purpose than venom. Mila was trying to sew doubt to teach her apprentice an object lesson in the dangers of leaving one's mind unguarded. Of course, she had instructed her to do so from the beginning anyway - which was all part of her design. Lairiel's nearly blind faith was proving to be another liability that would need to be broken.

 

[Sierrien]

Lairiel's mind was like an open book; she didn't seem to have an issue with trusting the Crusader. She had been told to open her mind, as so she did. It might have been strange in and of itself for a Sith to be so open, but that wasn't what she was thinking about. No, she was only thinking about Mila and trying to understand what the woman was thinking. She got an inkling of frustration from the woman, but then a moment later it was gone and she was left wondering if she had imagined it. Surprise then, even as she herself had her thoughts about how nice Mila smelled, and then that was gone as well. This was mostly a new realm to her; she didn't realize that Mila wasn't being as open with her as she was with the Crusader, because she didn't know what an open mind felt like. Memories started to play through her own mind, slight distractions that she noted as she focused on Mila but tried not to let distract her. She was mostly successful, enough that she could clearly understand what Mila was saying. How could she not - she was focusing entirely on the woman.

Her head gave an extremely subtle nod, but it was more evident that she understood by the fact that Mila was looking through her mind and would easily feel that coming from Lairiel. Her enemies might try to use her own mind against her. She didn't know how that would look or feel, but she could appreciate that there were things in her mind that she would not like to relive. As if bidden, some of those memories came to the fore - what fragments of memories she retained of the crash that had killed her parents. The crash that.. she had caused? A wince crossed her face, and then she blinked. She had kept her family a secret? Because... she had kept it a secret because she was responsible for their deaths, and she.. didn't want anyone to know. That must have been it, right? "No, I... The thing is..." she trailed off as she couldn't come up with a lie to cover up for why she hadn't told anyone. Panic was starting to set itself firmly in to her mind, to the point her body shivered and her eyes actually broke eye contact. Just for a moment - a quick glance as if for an exit, and then right back to being captured by Mila's own hazel orbs.

And then her world shattered. Or at least that's what it felt like. If her parents were alive - and it was her fault that they weren't - how would they feel with the knowledge that she was a failure. Mila had just.. called her a failure. All put together, it broke her. She started to cry, then sob - and then she was all but wailing on the floor, her hands coming up to cover over her face as she put her head in to them, as if to try and hide them. Her body was shuddering with the sudden weight on her shoulders, and through her sobbing and wailing she was stuttering out apologies, both to Mila and to the parents she had gotten killed. "M-mother.. F-father.. M-mila.. I'm s-so sorry..." Her hand shifted out to the side as she suddenly pulled at her backpack through the Force; her old training saber flying out of the side pocket towards her hand. "I.. I don't d-deserve to g-go on.." With her other hand still covering her face, she appeared ready to catch her lightsaber and make good on her words of not deserving to go on.

 

[Gamov]

Lairiel's mental collapse didn't take long, her already fragile psyche teetering on the brink, requiring but a tiny nudge one way or the other. The whole spectacle played out before her eyes like some salacious HoloVid, the nervous tremors, the shifting gaze, even the imperceptible quiver in her lips right before it all came crashing down like a house of cards. It was a calamity playing out in slow motion, much to Mila's own perverse enjoyment. The grief and guilt that seeped from the wounds in Lairiel's mind filled her with a potent euphoria that nearly forced out a grim chuckle. For a brief moment, the Crusader seemed to abandon all rational thought as she relished in her apprentice's mental anguish, staring blankly at her convulsing form as sob after pitiful sob racked her body. It was as if there had been no greater purpose to it all other than to feed her own twisted whims.

But then something clicked in her mind and it all came rushing back to reality. It was when Lairiel reached for her saber, wailing an empty apology through the tears as she threatened to end it all. All at once, and perhaps driven more my reflexes and instinct, Mila abruptly severed her mental connection and shifted forward to grab the girl by her shoulders. "Lairiel!" She gave her a firm shake, trying to snap her out of her psychosis. Mila hadn't realized just how frail Lairiel's mind was until it was almost too late. "Enough! Snap out of it!" Her hands clenched a bit tighter as she resisted the urge to just slap her across the face. But by now she was actually worried that any physical trauma might be more than enough to outright hurl Lairiel completely into oblivion.

"You didn't kill your parents!" Mila wasn't sure if her words were borne of desperation or actual concern, all she knew at the moment was she had to get Lairiel back under control before she did something drastic... like trying to kill herself.

 

[Sierrien]

She never quite got to getting her lightsaber in her hand; it had clattered to the ground and rolled within reaching distance when Mila had suddenly shifted forward and grabbed her shoulders. Dimly she heard her name shouted and then the hands gripping her were giving her a rough shake. Her hands dropped, looking like it was probably an automatic reaction as she blinked away tears that were still clouding her vision. She tried to focus on Mila through the tumult of her mind, but it was hard. It sounded like the words were coming through water. Snap out of it - snap out of what? This was the only logical solution to her being a failure. She had gotten her parents killed and now she was useless; obviously she should end it so that she stopped bringing shame to them. It wasn't fair to them, it just wasn't. She felt Mila's hands clenching tighter on her shoulders and then heard something she didn't expect - and which didn't seem to make sense to her.

"You didn't kill your parents!" the Crusader all but shouted at her, and her right hand froze in place just as it came down on top of her lightsaber. She hadn't even been consciously aware she was reaching for it. Her arms were tense, ready to burst in to action and end her own life. They didn't move yet; she was aware that the mental connection had been broken, and her mind was reeling and trying to set things back in to place, to the way everything should be. To make it all make sense. Right now it was all still a jumble of self loathing and guilt, making insane actions seem entirely sane and rational to her. It was so close to that already that even such a slight shift had obviously been enough to send her way over the edge. Mila's last words echoed through her mind, playing over and over again as she sat transfixed by hazel hued eyes for what seemed like an eternity.

She relaxed completely then, her seeming to lose all motor functions as she fell forward - likely simply held in place by Mila's hands on her shoulders, her hand had at least dropped away from the training saber still laying on the floor next to her. She would fall in to Mila if she wasn't held up, or perhaps to the side to lay limply on the floor. It was only a few moments before her senses would start to return, but she seemed to have almost blacked out - though her eyes were still opened and she looked conscious, she just wasn't there mentally for a few seconds.

 

[Gamov]

Chaotic seconds stretched into agonizing minutes as Lairiel's grip on reality only seemed to grow weaker. The Arkanian blinked awkwardly through tear filled eyes, her motions stiff and robotic as she grasped for the loose saber on the floor. Ice flooded Mila's veins, her eyes wide at the realization that her Apprentice was actually going to follow through with it. This was no hollow threat or feint - to Lairiel's shattered psyche, this was truly the only answer. Frustration overcame the Crusader as her efforts to break through the psychosis seemed to be in vain, inevitably boiling over in an uncontrollable rage. Her eyes narrowed then, fingers clenching tighter as she shouted, lending a telepathic sting to her words in a last ditch effort. "SHUT UP!"

All at once, something finally seemed to resonate in Lairiel's mind that brought a modicum of sanity back to her frayed senses. Her posture slackened as the tension bled from her muscles, her body slumping forward in Mila's arms. Peering into Lairiel's listless green eyes, the Crusader could almost see the neurons firing off in the back of her mind as she struggled to put the pieces back together. Her body seemed like a limp husk, an empty vessel from which her own mind had fled to escape the pain that had been inflicted on it. A pang of remorse seared through Mila, replaced just as quickly by a sense of relief as she checked Lairiel's pulse and breathed out a short sigh. The girl was still alive, at least so far as she could tell anyway. Shifting her body in her arms, Mila gently propped her unconscious Apprentice against the hull, waving a hand in front of her eyes to see if there would be a response. But there was nothing, only the same vacant stare.

"Lairiel?" She managed after several quiet minutes. The gentle thrum of the ship's engines pervaded the silence that followed and Mila's anxieties began welling up again. Focusing her senses on Lairiel, she gingerly reached out to her mind again with the Force, imparting a soft telepathic message to her, too apprehensive to do anything else at the moment. "Lairiel, are you in there? Can you hear me?" She swallowed a bit uncomfortably, waiting with bated breath for any response.

 

[Sierrien]

It all appeared to have been too much for her; her vacant form was settled on to the floor of the ship and her eyes did not even react to the hand waving in front of them. The few minutes spent waiting brooked no change in her, and neither did saying her name out loud. She seemed to have truly lost herself due to how fragile her mind was. It wasn't mila's fault, but the crusader may not entirely recognize that. At the same time, she could have got a glimpse while inside lairiel's mind of exactly how poorly her childhood 'therapy' had been conducted, as its failure was the primary reason she had her psychosis now.

Her catatonic state seemed impervious to outside influence, at least until Mila used the Force to impart a telepathic message, questioning if she was inside her own head and if she could hear her. At first the only response were her eyelids fluttering, then closing completely. They were only closed for a few moments before she suddenly breathed in sharply and opened her eyes, her back arching at the same time as if she were just coming back to life after nearly drowning. Yet it was confusion that first screwed up her facial features, a quick and panicked look around the room they were in. Nothing familiar; her eyes settled on Mila then and shifted in to sudden focus. Quick, sharp breaths were all that moved her form - bordering on hyperventilating her.

"Mila?" She let out with a higher pitch than usual, her hand slowly reaching out towards the woman, trying to basically poke her as if she were unsure if the crusader was real or not. "What just happened?" A slow recognition was creeping over her face now as her mind worked at piecing everything together, though most if it was all just a jarring dredge of mixed up images and broken memories.

 

[Gamov]

Trenchant eyes roamed Lairiel's motionless form, searching for the tiniest hint of a reaction. A breath, a whisper, a twitch, something... anything that would prove she was still in there somewhere. Expectation slowly but surely yielded to doubt in the eerie stillness, Mila uttering an unintelligible curse as her telepathic missive went unanswered. Shifting her jaw with a sharp scoff, she settled against the far wall, running her fingers through her hair while she tried to work out what to do next. Part of her wanted to drop Lairiel at the next outpost and be done with it. She certainly couldn't take her back to any of the temples - what use would the Sith have for a comatose Acolyte? Target practice maybe, or an unwilling subject for alchemical experiments. More likely though they would just dump her in some tomb on Korriban to be devoured by a pack of ravenous Tuk'ata hounds. Mila shuddered to imagine any of those options, and soon found herself right back where she had started: racked with indecision.

Whatever choice she made, it seemed Lairiel's story was fated to end here. Alone, shattered and cold.

After a moment, the sight of her Apprentice's lifeless body became one Mila found difficult to stomach. Resigning the girl to her fate with a sigh, the Crusader turned and started for the cockpit. Maybe she could find a suitable place to leave Lairiel. Somewhere with a medical center where she would be looked after. She'd likely live out the rest of her days hooked up to a menagerie of tubes - if you could call that "living" - but it beat being buried in a shallow grave on some backwater piss-hole. Mila had barely taken a step though when she noticed an imperceptible flutter in Lairiel's eyes. The Crusader turned sharply then, crouching next to her as she suddenly came back to life. The girl's body heaved beneath a staccato of sharp breaths, on the verge of hyperventilating as a spark of life materialized in her eyes again.

Mila was so caught up in her own amazement that she hardly realized the faint smile that graced her features as Lairiel rasped her name and reached out to her. "Calm down. Deep breaths." Her voice sounded oddly tender as she gave her a chance to readjust and gain her bearings. "You went into shock and your mind is still recovering. Just take it slow." The fact that Lairiel had lost all concept of time was troubling, but Mila would deal with one problem at a time. And at the moment she needed to figure out just how much damage had been done. "What do you remember?".