Gettin' Social

Zarene Yin strode through the hallways of the Temple, a jug of blue milk in one hand, a shallow circular dish in the other. The swarm of initiates in the corridor moved around her as she walked, and she paid them little attention. She was on a mission.

She came to the courtyard, found a relatively empty space away from the all those who were practicing and sparring, and placed the dish on the ground.

Now where had that cat gone?

No, it wasn't unusual for Sir Scruffy to go scampering around the Temple, but he had been gone for quite a long time today, and she was starting to wonder. She wasn't particularly worried that anyone would have hurt him or anything. One of the initiates had tried to some time back when the Temple was recently opened, must have thought that it would be funny to torture a small cat. But he had stopped laughing when his windpipe was crushed by five fingers made of steel. And then the story spread and nobody else tried to bother Zarene's cat anymore.

If he was in the courtyard, there was a good chance he was on top of one of the tall stone pillars. There was good sun up there, nice and warm during the day. The easiest way to get him to come down was always milk, so Zarene poured the blue milk and waited.

Smack!

The younger initiate hit the ground with a thud, the force of the slap along with sheer surprised was enough to knock him off his feet. The man, no, boy was an insolent little wretch. Gabriella didn't slap people randomly though despite how much she would have liked to. The initiate had made an off-hand comment about Renata. Something about how a woman shouldn't have the title of Darth or even be Sith's at all. The usual chauvinistic rambling of beings with lesser intelligence than average.

Even as a trail of blood left his lip, he made to grab his lightsaber. The Echani wouldn't hesitate to cut him down but she was robbed of that delightful pleasure.

"What is going on here?"

Oh dear

"This wench slapped me!" came the childish angry reply

"No one can insult Mistress Renata but me" was her response.

The mention of her master's name brought the older Sith to a pause. She watched as he considered the current situation and nodded. It was common knowledge that she was one of Renata's apprentice. Throwing her name around tended to make Gabby's life easier, and other times it didn't. This seemed to be one of the former. She had been scolded by these older instructors too much, but even she knew that they were more powerful than she was.

"Indeed, alright Initiate Fisher, be on your way"

The Echani stayed long enough to smirk at the other initiate before leaving. She was bored, and didn't really have anything to do at the moment. Gabriella decide that she would head to the courtyard, maybe there would be some entertainment there. Many of the initiates tended to go there for various reasons. It didn't take her long to reach the expansive area. Definitely one of the nicer places in this wretched temple.

Gabriella was pleasantly surprised to see a familiar figure. She practically skipped over to the girl. A few stared at here, but most had gotten used to her...eccentricities. It was clearly understood that the Echani wasn't entirely sane, then again, neither where half the Sith here.

"Afternoon Zarene!" She said, slapping the girl on the back."I killed your cat by the way"

Of course she actually hadn't, but why not say it? She honestly had no idea why the cyborg was so attached to such a pitiful creature. Gabriella had pets too, but instead of feeding them milk, she tortured them. Well they weren't animals, but half the people here acted as if they were pets. The Echani would enjoy running a blade through almost all of them but she tended to harbor such feelings with almost every person she met.

This place really was quite boring.

People, people and more people.

It seemed to Kajir that with each day the Sith temple felt even more crowded, and with each new day the place was filled with testosterone high initiates looking for a fight and a quick death, well as long as they died fighting the republic and the Jedi, Kajir didnt care. The unexpressive Kajir had to laugh at one point, it was ridiculous seening everyone at each other throats when they should be out there sowing the seeds for a future.

Normally Kajir spent his time in bastion with Shard bastion, but he had gone back to Korriban for a couple of days. The young assassin had to see his Sith brothers, the ones that would bring the future and change the Republic which was a dying animal, he didn't care about what the Sith would do after their victory Kajir was not naive enough to think that it would all be solved with the displacement of the Republic and the Jedi order, he knew the Galaxy would have to suffer and go through a dark strech before finally a true balance could be achieved, what this Sith wanted unlike the rest of his brothers and sisters was a future, not for him... he was far from redemtion he wanted a future where his tale would not be repited.

Kajir walked through the Corridors of the temple, simply streching his legs he had been meditating to much today. He needed the air and the dark light that Korriban brought to the Temple. Turning around the corner Kajir was ambushed, not by a person or a weapon but by a leaping cat which landed straight on Kajir chest cluchting with its claws at the Assassin chest. Kajir stumbled back a couple of steps back due to the force of the Cat that had jumped streight to his chest. "Whats wrong with you?" Kajir said deep in his head, just as he removed the cat from his chest and held him close to his face, meeting eye to eye with the animal. He knew for a fact that cats disliked eye to eye contact so he purposely locked eyes with the animal. Time passed and the spotted cat closed his eyes, in a display of friendliness and not seeking a fight.

"Fine, then" he said coldly as he lowered the animal and allowed it to rest in his arms while he caress it out of boredom, not becouse he enjoyed petting the animal, they keep walking through the dark temple. Kajir had to admit he did not espected to have a stumbled with a cat in a the center of "darkness" of the galaxy.

The young man and the spotted cat eventually found themself in a courtyard, which pleasently enough was rather empty. The young human sat and allowed the cat to rest in his lap, it seemed that the cat had taken a liking to the assassin.

"Tsk don't get to attached to me cat" he said coldly, not bothering to check the animal name, he didn't care about the animal it served no purpose to him. Kajir closed his eyes after a while... he was tired. He didn't bother opening them once he felt that the cat jumped from his lap to greet its owner.

Hostilities never seemed to drop amongst the initiates and it would be an immense lie to say that Acalya did not have her hand in instigating some of it. Often seeking to cull the weak from the herd, see the thoughtful out shine the mindless, watch the blind fury extinguished by cold determination, and witness the methodical ascend above those who merely plow ever forward. Much of her time for the past weeks, especially during her recovery from her battle with a certain wayfaring Knight and zealot Wizard, has been amidst Adiral Drayde's fleet as she she has lead it and studied the Sith militaries strategic holdings in comparison to what intel it has in regards to the Republics... and the Mandalorians as well as the Independents. Her full recovery is still unreached, and even simply walking she feels a sharp tinge of soreness -- even after her couple of weeks spent soaking in a kolto tank.

But all things must move on from what was and what occurs, Acalya understood this well -- one must always be moving forward or remain stagnant -- and in stagnation lies death. Within the temple there is a certain level of reprieve she felt within the dark that loomed everyone, the cold, stilled call of the dead that have pulled so many to it past and present and the soon to come. As she always has her lean, lithe althetic feminine form walked its cold stone halls as she kept herself to its dark cast shadows. Though, at times it seemed as though the very shades and shadows of Korriban cast themselves over the womans pale grey visage, ever marked by the decay of the dark side.

Even with her usual grace slightly hobbled by the pain she still felt from her last battle, the cold chill of the dark woman's presence still seemed to flow in her wake as she strode with quiet bare foot steps. Finding a nice little spot beside a high reaching pillar within its dark cast shadow as it stood in the courtyard of the temple. Acalya leaned against it primarily simply to ease the encumberance of even her own minor weight off her feet as her gaze was turned to the initiates gathering and crossing paths alike. Those vivid crimson red eyes that naturally gaze beyond the material into the incorporeal of the Force itself, and gazed upon those present merely to watch and observe... for now...

Nieraan watched the other Initiates go about their business in silence for a little while. Most of the happenings within the courtyard were business as usual, it seemed. Fighting, talking, that jazz. Nothing that really stuck out, at least not yet.

Well, that might not have been entirely true.

Two of the less excitable Initiates were sitting about ten or so feet down the colonnade from him. They were discussing philosophies and the like, which was all well and good. Except that they seemed to be getting a bit too into their discussion, which had something to do with the views of Exar Kun and Naga Sadow or some other such nonsense. Nieraan didn't care for the details. What he did care about was that they were getting loud over something stupid, and they were both annoying.

Shut up, he thought, looking to them out of the corner of a yellowed eye. For a few moments he was contemplating strangling them both through the Force. They might even be part of some scholarly good. Every larynx had a different feel through the Force, as Nieraan had learned over the years. Perhaps he'd write a book about it, starting with theirs...

It was tempting. Very tempting.

But in the end he decided it wasn't worth the inevitable trouble it would stir up and pushed off from his place on the pillar to move to a sport further down.

As he was moving, he spotted a familiar face. Yin. He couldn't remember her first name. He'd seen her not too long ago in one of the practice rooms in the Temple, where Cho Wroth had been having an episode, or whatever it was he did. He didn't really know much about her, beyond her being Renata's student.

She had some milk and a pan her hands and looked as though she were searching for something. Nieraan paused for a moment, unsure of what to do. If he was going to come to know his fellows, he'd have to interact, but at the same time, he wasn't the most sociable of people. It'd put him out of his element, to say the least.

But, before he could do anything, another Initiate appeared. She was a bit shorter than Zarene with white hair. Her greeting was... odd, to say the last. Nieraan lifted a brow. Part of him was amused by it. The other part was a bit thrown off. So she was looking for a cat? He'd seen a cat wandering the Temple from time to time. He never really paid it any mind. He hadn't seen it recently, though. Did she really kill the cat? Surely not. They looked to be friendly. Friends didn't kill their friend's pet, right? Well, this was the Sith Temple...

Of course, it was then that he felt the presence of another and glanced over to see a young man. He had a cat. How many people in this damn place have cats? He blinked. Or is that the one Yin is looking for...?

It jumped up and went over to her, and that answered that.

Nieraan scratched the back of his head as he glanced back to the other two. "Well, either you got your cat back, or you have a pretty terrible friend," he called over to Zarene. Come to think of it, joking about killing the cat seemed like a pretty terrible thing to do. Not that he particularly cared one way or the other, but he could imagine.

A chill suddenly ran down his spine and he looked up and in the direction it came from. One of the Sith higher-ups had come into the courtyard and was observing the Initiates, quiet as a shadow. Vorxere. Nieraan remembered her from when he got in trouble with Jack. His gaze lingered on her for a moment. "Wonder what she's out here for," he muttered to himself, and then shrugged, turning around to face the other two.

"Don't suppose you know if that Noghri actually left, do you?" he asked Zarene. "I've heard a few stories of him. I'd hate to know that I missed all the entertainment."

Zarene rolled her eyes. "Ha ha ha," she said flatly. "Seriously Gabby, you've used that line before. And it wasn't funny then either." She smiled slightly. "Besides, I know you like Sir Scruffy. I've seen you pet him when you think nobody is looking. You certainly didn't mind when he climbed on top of you for a little bit last night."

Speaking of Sir Scruffy, she spotted him resting in the lap of a young man near the steps of the courtyard. Upon seeing her, the cat jumped up and scampered over, rubbing against her leg before focusing his attention on the milk, which he quickly lapped up. She picked him up in her arms, and scratched his head behind the ears. "Awww... who's the cutest kitty on Korriban?"

That behavior was probably going to illicit a facepalm from Gabriella. But she didn't care.

She walked over to the man. "Thanks for finding him. I'm impressed. He normally doesn't warm up to people so quickly." There was a call from someone behind her, but she didn't turn around to see who it was. She could recognize the voice though. "Gee, Onin, weren't you there at the time. Yes, he's gone to Bastion to do who knows what."

Why wasn't she laughing?

Gabriella had thought her joke was pretty funny but Zarene hadn't thought so. There had been a history of this, she could never understand why people didn't find her jokes funny.It wasn't her fault, it couldn't be her fault. It was definitely that cyborg's fault, did cyborgs even have a sense of humor? Robots didn't have a sense of humor, so according to her logic, Zarene should only have half a sense of humor.

"Like Sir Scruf-" she stammered "Pet hi-" she continued to stammer. Gabriella was furious, she couldn't believe that Zarene was saying such things. The Echani had half a mind to slap the other girl but managed to hold back.

"Climbed on top of me?!" She practically yelled.

She couldn't tell what she was more mad about. The fact that she had just yelled that out loud or that somehow Zarene knew the truth. Either way, Gabriella was never going to admit it, and definitely not in the company of others. She almost wanted to puke when Zarene started coddling her cat.

"Zarene....I hate you" was all the Echani could manage.

Another had joined them, a man she had seen around the Temple but he seemed just as useless as the rest. He approached Zarene and mentioned something about a Noghri. She had recently had some contact with a Noghri, and she hoped she never would again. Along with the Noghri she recognized the man who had Zarene's cat, she had seen him on Bastion also. There was another, a stronger and darker presence, definitely one of the higher Siths. Gabriella hadn't really cared for any of the other Sith except Renata but even she shivered slightly at the presence of the woman in the courtyard.

"Zarene" Began Gabriella "Who is this?" She said motioning over at the one she named Onin "I thought you were into girls"

(for some reason I thought it was apillis turn, sorry it took me so long XD)

Kajir allowed the force to guide his senses, he slowly probed each presence in the courtyard... the old man, a female, one that felt familiar , the cat another male and the dark presence that clouded the whole area with... coldness, Kajir spine shivered as he felt that oppressive darkness that came from a woman in the shadows. The foolish assassin shrugged the feeling away just as the voice from a girl broke his concentration. Kajir eyes opened and he looked up noticing the numerous scars and the cyborg appearance of what Kajir assumed to be the owner of the cat, decent looking girl he thought shame life had not been so kind to her body, but what did he care.

"He found me, I just tagged along" Kajir said pointing at the cat, then he looked at the other girl an annoying sight it was. Little miss Fisher, Kajir remembered her that spoiled evil woman who hid behind her master when things went wrong the young assassin eyes slid a bit close as he looked at her "Still alive I see" he said showing his annoyance at finding her again, that pawn should just go out into the battlefield and die trying to kill something.

The assassin then turned his attention to one of the initiates that approached the pair of girls and him, he looked a bit younger than Kajir but his skin... there was something that gave away that man's heritage was far from being a base line human. He asked about Cho, the noghri and the shadow of Kajir master, Shard.

"Yes last I saw of him he was in Bastion" Kajir said coldly agreeing with the cyborg comment just as he stood up, being seated around people he did not trust was not a good thing in Kajir book.

Standing ever quietly keeping to herself as she watched the varying initiates within the courtyard. There was a pair her eyes transfixed on, a pair of teenage boys it seemed. Aggressions between the two seemed to increase as she continued to stare at them with those unblinking blood red hued eyes of hers that are only capable of gazing into the incorporeal. As their argument grew louder and louder in their little corner of the courtyard, a small smile begun to grow on Acalya's visage. It was only a moment later when loud words became violent action with one boy straggling the other until he did his trashing for his life stopped. As dismay washed over the young lad who stood over the body of his peer leading him to run off only a few seconds later.

There were several conversations the dark woman listened to within those halls through the Force. One of which turned her smile into a slight nonchalantly unimpressed smirk. With a small push off of the pillar placing her full weight back on her feet, she inwardly grimaced as the small bit of pain shot up her spine -- her slim form reminding her of her physical ailments. But, pain is an abstract to a well-enough trained mind, turning her focus elsewhere in attempts to ignore it, while she approached a very small gathering of you Sith... surrounding a cat.

The moment she was near them she uttered with her natural soft, quiet voice caring a quiet blase tone to it, "And here I thought the quality and smell improving within the temple was all in my head... But -- as it turns out the Noghri truly has left here... Coincidence? Unlikely... If the Sith Order's irritants and rejects continue to segregate and isolate themselves to Bastion... this could prove promising.", her smirk then converted into a somewhat devious little smile, "Albeit, one can only wonder if a certain Sith pressed the attack at Subterrel rather than lolly-gag and posture, how it could have turned out... One has to wonder -- was it intentional or stupidity?", but in the next instant merely shrugged, "But -- no use in dwelling in 'what ifs'."

In an unconscious flippant action, Acalya reached into the pouch of her black Jedi utility... one of her trophies from her youth, she pulled out a concentrated high protien meat ration. Breaking off a small piece she held out to the cat to take out of her hand as she just close enough to casually do so. By the off-the-cuff manner she did it -- it was unlikely she even put any thought to the small bit of charity for the animal. The second afterward she slipped the ration back into the small pouch from whence it came, and then crossed her arms under her chest...

Nieraan lifted a brow as he watched the interaction between Gabby-- the Echani girl--and Yin. The Echani was... interesting. That was the only word he could think of to describe her. I guess they take all types here... He only shook his head.

"I was there when he gave a speech and broke his lightsaber," Nieraan said to Zarene when she spoke, letting the ghost of a smirk touch his lips. "Never saw him leave, though. Didn't know where he went, either." He shrugged, folding his arms across his chest. "For all I know, he could've wandered off into some canyon or something."

Bastion? Why would he go to Bastion? Nieraan was aware that the world was under Sith control, but as far as he knew, there wasn't anything of major importance out there. Of course, given his relative lack of interest in such things, he'd be the first to admit he was wrong. But still. Why would Wroth go there?

"Zarene," said Gabby, motioning toward Nieraan, "who is this? I thought you were into girls."

For a moment, Nieraan was too surprised to say anything. Then he just laughed, shaking his head. Did she think he was going after Zarene? Or that Zarene was going after him? And was that jealousy he felt?

"Well you're being pretty possessive, aren't you?" he said to Gabby, his voice filled with amusement. "But don't worry, your girl's safe." He snorted a laugh. "From me, anyway."

The other Sith--one that Nieraan didn't recognize--spoke, reaffirming that Wroth had gone off to Bastion. "Interesting..." He shifted his weight from one leg to another, pondering the news. He had questions about it all, but Vorxere appeared then, answering one of them. Sort of. At least he knew Cho hadn't gone alone. But why the others?

"Irritants and rejects, eh?" he said, more to himself than anyone else. If that was the case, it was a surprise he'd not been sent off to Bastion; he certainly had the record of being an irritant within the Order. Thankfully, he hadn't been rejected. Yet.

"So what, are they doing something there for the Order or are they just... there?" He turned his attention back to Kajir. "You. You said you saw Wroth on Bastion, right? That'd imply that you were there yourself." Did that make Kajir an irritant and/or reject? "What were you doing there, anyway, if you're back here again? What was... whoever else was there doing there?"

Zarene gave Kajir Arjun a glare as he and Gabriella stared each other down. They had obviously met on Bastion, though unfortunately the reports revealed very little about him other than basic information. That would have to be rectified. She was interested in finding more about this fellow. Most of the Dominion folk seemed to want to hold themselves apart from the Sith. This one seemed to be among the few that did not.

She tensed slightly as Gabriella and Onin began exchanging words. Her impression of Onin was not the best. She had only met him once before. They had both been there when Lady Renata had dismissed Wroth. He had come across to her as impetuous and dismissive of the chain of command. Loose cannon, she thought.

But it wasn't his presence that made her tense, but the topic of the conversation. Her relationship with Gabriella Fisher. Zarene had always strived for a certain amount of control and order in her life. Gabriella was the one chaotic exception. One might as well tried to control the weather.

For all her prowess on the field on battle, Zarene often found her abilities inadequate in the more social aspects of life. She had long ago given up hope for any chance at romance, blaming her scars and cybernetics. On the other hand, Gabriella was confident, beautiful. She could have any man in the room and she knew it. Yet for some inexplicable reason, she had chosen to claim Zarene as her own.

In public, they were on relatively equal footing. In fact, Gabriella was often content to let Zarene take charge in many of their missions, planning the intricate details and issuing orders while she herself sipped wine and feigned disinterest. But in private, the one with superior experience in matters of intimacy made it clear that she was on top. Gabriella seemed to delight in causing pain, yet she also had a way of making Zarene feel wanted, something nobody else was willing or capable of doing, and she needed that.

It was both comforting and frightening at the same time.

Sir Scruffy had accepted a piece of meat from Vorxere, who had finally seen fit to make her presence known. The spotted cat moved off to side, where he began cleaning himself with his tongue. He would probably return to Zarene's room when he was done. He always did that after Zarene found him after his little escapades in the Temple.

The others had apparently decided to switch the topic of the conversation over to Dominion. Zarene held certain beliefs about that group, but decided to keep her silence for now.

Gabriella suddenly found herself faced with a hard challenge. She couldn't decide who she wanted to kill more, this Onin fellow or the lapdog Kajir. When he approached the group, he clearly displayed his dislike from Gabriella, one she was quite happy to reciprocate. Her experience on Bastion had been a rather sour one which was a result of Kajir and that dominion. She had just barely avoided a murderous rampage with some shopping therapy.

"Just barely, the stink of your Dominion almost killed me" replied Gabby with an air of contempt.

The Echani was happy to know that she wasn't the only one who had thought the Noghri smelled based on Vorxere's comment. Gabby didn't pay the woman much attention until she fed Zarene's cat something. A pang of jealously shot through her for a moment before she turned her attention back to Onin.

"Possessive?" Gabriella blinked "Why would I be possessive of this?" she said jabbing her thumb in Zarene's direction for extra emphasis.

He said he wasn't interested but Gabriella didn't trust the man, not that she really trusted anyone in general. There was something about him that annoyed her, though not nearly as much as Kajir did. A wide smile spread her face at the thought of hearing his screams echoing through the Temple halls. Maybe just maybe, the opportunity would present itself.

Onin began to ask Kajir a bunch of questions and Gabby slowly zoned out. She cared nothing for the little squabbles of the Sith Order and the idiots it was comprised of. Her mind was wandering, hopefully something interesting would happen soon otherwise she might just find some initiate to take her boredom out on.

Kajir returned Zerene glare with a impassive and empty eyes, hopefully she wasn't so much as an idiot as her companion. Before the situation could continue a cold and poisonous presence approached the group of darklings. Her words filled with contempt for the Dominion, a feeling he had seen ever since the assassin had been recruited by Lord Memmon himself.

The assassin made a light bow once master Vorxere approached the circle "Lady vorxere" he said addressing her with respect while rising, even if she spoke badly of Kajir master and his dominion the assassin always showed respect to those above him. They are the ones who carried the foundations for the future Kajir wanted.

The last words of Madora had a strange effect, Kajir had not considered. The dominion a place for the rejected and those out of place within the order. Those words made Kajir flash a little smirk of private amusement, a smile so strange to his face.

The man who called himself Onin began asking more about the Dominion, he addressed Kajir with obvious ignorance. The assassin crossed his arms and raised his arm.

"If you want to know more about Memmon agenda you'd have better luck talking to him or his recruiters. I'm sure they can, satisfied your curiosity..." Kajir spoke with his usual mix of coldness and respect. He really had no reason to speak about the Dominion to strangers even if they could be called brethren. Kajir was a tool a very loyal tool and he would serve Shard as long as he swore loyalty to the Sith order, the harbinger of the future. Kajir would serve Memmon, Shard or Charlill for as long as he brought strength to the Sith.

"My business here is out of my own free will and none of business" Kajir said a bit more sternly this time "In return for my services, Lord Mammon allows me certain liberties" Such liberties included the freedom to travel through Sith space as the assassin saw fit as well as to dig around for information of his peers, their past, skill sets and their enemies. Kajir had the habit or addiction for digging around for information, it was as much as a habit and necessity of his days as an assassin and even if Kajir had stopped working for organizations that worked on that trade the assassin still kept in touch with his contacts.

Yet Kajir only looked for information for the purpose of knowing and not using. Anyone that had spent some time with the assassin would figure out quite easily that Kajir Arjun had next to no ambition to rise through the ranks of the Order.

A slight sneer came to Acalya's visage as she was called 'lady', in truth it annoyed her being called such. In her mind, she is a Sith Lord, a Dark Lord of the Sith -- the Lord of Ruin, in ages past women who were Sith Lords never went by this Sith Lady business; and this politically correct airstocratic highborn posturing she found more than a little nauseating. The Sith Lords of old viewed themselves as "gods", "Lords" among men -- above all others. Attaining the mantle of a Sith Lord, or Dark Lord of the Sith was more than merely gaining a noble title amongst ones peers and culture -- that is mere materialism, this is more -- it is an ascension and reflection of obtaining something greater within the dark side of the Force. That is what it means to be a Dark Lord of the Sith, an ascension to even greater power.

Those blood red irises slowly turned their chilling artic gaze to Kajir, the Dominion hound of a lowly jester who fancies himself a king but only consistantly proves to be less than a failed comedian. Vivid in the crimson shade her eyes narrowed to a half-open glare as a frigid stillness in the air seemed to permeate the area if even just a little. Though her sneer shifted from its sneer to a small smile as her unblicking stare through the incorporeal upon the Dominion hound dog remained ever its hardened intensity, and spoke with her icy, subtly pitched voice, "Lord Vorxere...", she corrected, "this politically correct noble posturing is repulsive... Manners and respect is all well and good, but the aristocratic tripe and pomposity is largely useless and over-inflated..."

Her tone shifting to one that dripped and oozed utter sarcasm almost in its purest forms, "As for your 'master', young Assassin... I am so certain as he and his little ragtag disjointed little band of those who fancy themselves as practitioners of the dark side, possesses an amazingly articulated agenda that has many layers beyond any of our understanding. In fact, since their subsequent isolation to Bastion at the allowance of the Dark Overlord, Darth Iniquitous, it has come to such exacting fruition -- none of us has simply noticed -- what with our... actually fighting a war... rather than containing ourselves to our little club house out of a fearful xenophobia leading to the sole desire to remain with their boys club with a token girl or two.", she continued with an exceedingly dull, wry tone and dispassionate, dull stare, "No doubt. An example for us all."

With the abrupt shift and tone of all the makings of a severe psychopathic bipolar case, Acalya's nature seemed to become quite a bit more lighthearted and even somewhat convivial as she a bit out of place off-handedly remarked -- though her gaze slightly turned to Zarene as if looking at the Sith Assassin from the corn of her eye, "You know... not long ago the Hutt, Korintha, was assassinated... his palace even been crumbled down around him... I wonder... what would happen if it somehow turned out to be the work of the Exchange, and even the rumors started flying that they were striking at the Hutts... Perhaps even prepping for all out war with them.", a little smile grew back on her face, "Hypothetically, what do you think could happen?"

Might as well get this over with…

Cloax walked out of his living quarters toward the courtyard. As he covered his head with his hood that was attached to his green cloak, he glared at the map that he held in his hand wondering if he was walking the right way. He had been persuaded by his recruiter to talk to his fellow peers in the Academy in order to see how the people were and if he felt that he belonged in the Sith. He was antisocial, and he knew it. Cloax was more of an “actions speak louder than words” kind of person, and he always felt that conversation was somewhat pointless. He was still optimistic as he knew that it would be a good idea to understand the establishment if he was to learn from the Sith.

I hope I’m not too old…

He thought as he neared the courtyard. He had not left his living quarters since he arrived except to eat, drink, and use the facilities, so he wasn’t sure what the demographic was of the Sith Academy. He was 32, and expected to be an old member in an academy full of young recruits. Nonetheless, he was open to the idea of other old recruits.

Once Cloax had reached the courtyard, he noticed multiple disciples of the Sith talking amongst themselves and some were alone. As he put his map into his pocket, he walked toward a small bench that no one was sitting on. He didn’t know how to start a proper conversation, and he didn’t really know what he wanted to talk about or learn. The mature, yet young Sith initiate sat down upon the bench and rested his chin upon the palm of his hand as he discovered that he was very shy.

"Possessive? Why would I be possessive of this?"

Nieraan snorted a laugh at that. "Of course," he said, in a matter that was clearly sarcastic, "how stupid of me to assume." The corner of his mouth twisted up in a slight smirk and he shook his head slightly. Gabby was an interesting one.

His attention shifted once more to Kajir when the other man began to speak. Not that he said much to answer Nieraan's question, though the answer he did give was enough to earn a derisive snort from the Firrerreo. This one's a fool, he thought. He was always making judgments of people, keeping them filed away in his mind. He didn't know most Sith well enough to make such judgment calls--part of the reason he was trying to come out of his shell a bit--but he knew a few. Yin seemed respectable enough, in her own way, and Gabby was... well, fiery at the very least.

But Kajir? Nieraan found it hard to gather respect for anyone that so openly accepted their status as a lapdog. Especially a lapdog for the type of man like Memnon, who Nieraan had had a sour experience with previously.

"Ah of course," he said dryly, "you jump when he tells you to, roll over and do tricks, and he lets you into the home for, what was it Vorxere said...? 'Irritants and rejects', I believe?" he smirked. "How cute.

"But, I guess it's telling enough that one of your number was banished from the Temple and that Iniquitous saw fit to keep the rest of you off on Bastion, separated from the rest of the Sith, eh?" Nieraan shifted his weight from one leg to the other, flashing a darkly toothy grin at Kajir. "I do hope you manage to avoid getting into trouble like the Noghri, though. It's always so sad to watch a puppy flee back to its keeper with its tail between its legs."

He fell silent as Vorxere began to speak. She was an interesting one as well. One of the Sith Lords. That in itself made Nieraan wary of her, as he was with all of them. He wasn't quite sure how he felt about her. Not yet.

"Truly," he said dryly once Vorxere finished her talk of Shard's group. Then, as she turned her attention to Zarene, he let his gaze settle on Kajir for a moment, meeting his eyes directly before another presence drew his attention.

On looking to the source, he'd see it was another Sith, one he didn't recognize. He looked a bit older than the rest, which would probably put him near Nieraan's age, even if the Firrerreo didn't look it. His face wasn't one that Nieraan recognized either. Perhaps he was new. Or perhaps not; there were plenty of Sith in the Temple Nieraan didn't recognize.

With a final glance at Kajir, Nieraan broke a few steps away from the group as Vorxere continued her question. He regarded the new arrival, both with his eyes and with the Force.

"So who are you?"

The Mess Hall hadn't been quite as crowded as he had hoped it too be, it almost seemed rather dead. Jiral shook his head slightly as he absorbed all the information he had been drilled on since recruitment into the Sith Order. Sitting at the far end of a bench legs crossed in a meditative position, his dark orange hair flowed about him covering his ears and eyes as he started to bow his head towards the table in thought..

Quiet... All too Quiet...

Gaining his composure once more and looking up from his finished meal, his usually amber eyes showing a deep golden like hue, he turned his attention to finding anyone of which he could immense himself within deep conversation. Jiral decided to head to the Training yard and practice his forms a bit. he hated the fact of his ranking to the others he had seen since he first was inducted into the Sith, he felt rather shame being that he himself was a force sensitive and yet as much boasting as he had done prior to being in any force oriented faction was indeed well misplaced as he quickly learned. He stood up and brushed himself off, his dark robe seemingly floated as he walked the corridors past the Mess Hall to the entry way leading to the training center. Brandishing his lightsaber and activating it, he went through routines that he was shown just days before while watching another adept who seemed to excel in all areas that he trained within.

The winds started to pick up blowing away the stale air for some more crisp and fresh. Jiral held the hilt of his lightsaber close to his chest switching from his right hand to his left before he activated it in his right hand and started going over forms. He danced with his blade a bit seeing how it felt to mingle forms and expressions while still keeping a composed nature and a semi serious stance for easy defending and attacking if need be. Over and over in his mind he focused on Shii- Cho but more and more he wanted to learn what he had saw the adept do... Something he came to know as Juyo. Jiral stopped for a bit and ran his fingers through his hair leaving it spiked about his head as he sat down in the middle of the grounds. He pondered over the Saberstaff, a weapon he had grown fond of since being at the Temple and of advanced techniques that were dubbed to be lost or merely forgotten in time, primarily a form called Teräs Käsi. He cleared his mind and tried to think of a way to show his superiors how much of an asset he could be.

Much time had passed by and he felt it was time too "Meet and Greet" The others at the temple. If he was to learn more, he would have to meet those of which would be willing to teach him, a 'Master' if you will. He placed his lightsaber within his sash close to his left side and stood up wiping his robes of any dust and dirt and for fun he force pulled his cloak from the ground to his hand. Jiral smiled a bit as he had did this seeing that he had accomplished much since being at the temple which hadn't been long at all to his knowledge. He wrapped the cloak around him but left the hood to rest at his shoulders. He closed his eyes yet again and said to himself how great it would be too have a mentor, not wanting to sound excited about it or show joyful expressions as being a Sith wasn't like anything he had been used too.. Seriousness all the time and the people he did meet all seemed to want him dead or at least out of their hair as much as if they were an enemy. He brushed it all off and stood there hoping someone would come through the passageway in hopes of finding someone of whom he could learn from...

Cloax started to think that walking to the courtyard was a waste of his time. He was too stubborn to start a conversation, and as he contemplated on leaving he noticed a younger Sith member walking toward him. Cloax quickly repositioned himself in a more composed manner, rather than looking uninterested. He noticed that the member walking toward him had distinctive features, such has the different tones of color in his hair, unusual skin color, and nictitating membranes that classified him as a Firrerreo. Cloax had met only a few Firrerreos in his life, and meeting one in a Sith temple wasn't something he could've predicted. He knew that even though the Firrerreo looked young, his age wasn’t truly predictable due to their lengthy lifespan. As the Firrerreo approached Cloax, he asked him who he was. Without much hesitation, Cloax stood up from the bench he was sitting on and answered.

“Cloax Zenotite. I’m a newly recruited Sith Initiate.” Upon answering, Cloax felt as though the Firrerreo had a genuine curiosity as to who he was. He briefly noticed that he was also talking to another Sith member before he arrived to the courtyard, and his quick approach deemed him to have a good amount of confidence.

“If I may ask, who are you?” Cloax asked. He was starting to loosen up a bit, which was something that he was used to doing. He knew how to talk to a person, but he wasn’t too experienced in bringing up a topic. His throat was less tense and his body language was much more relaxed, though he was reluctant to remove the hood off of his head. His sense of security wouldn’t allow it. The confidence in the Firrerreo was an interesting sort, and with the reputation of the Sith it was hard to say whether his intentions were friendly or dangerous.