Crossing Destinies (Dire Wolf)

(w00t w00t 2,000th post!!!)

Lyssah peered out at the unending vacuum of space, trillions of infinitesimal points of light strewn about its surface. It was almost as if a midnight black canvas had been thrown over the transparisteel view port of her ship and a dim flood lamp had been placed before it. A small, almost girlish smile threatened to spread her lips thin as she simply watched the serene void of space. There was just something about the void that calmed her down, even in the most dire of times. It was the lack of life that called her to the gaping black maw of space. While it was strange for anyone to enjoy a place so devoid of life the term 'wasteland' was not powerful enough, she did all the same.

Few people thought along the same lines as Lyssah, and even fewer Jedi approved of her line of thought. Perhaps that, rather than the fear of falling, was her true reason for leaving the Order. This time for good. It was the quiet and the solitude that she found pleasurable. All of the places that she'd frequented had been so full of life that their signature in the Force had a certain cacophony to them. Even the smallest blade of grass had its own whisper to add to the bedlam that every Jedi learns to tune out, though for some insane reason seek. That wasn't to say that she hated forests, but rather she found a simple pleasure in being utterly alone to one's thoughts.

Then there was the temporary reprieve from the responsibilities of power. When a being such as a Jedi is around others, no matter how powerful, their every action is like a single drop of water in a still pond. Lyssah would've continued her seemingly endless musings on power and privilege, when the report of a droning alarm reached her ears. It was strange for another ship to simply shut down their hyperdrive, in fact her only reason for doing so was to meditate and take pleasure in solitude. A point of light flared then quickly dimmed to nothing in the distance, and soon after the blur of a large freighter came shooting across her view at almost inconceivable speeds.

It was only after the ship came to a grinding halt that her suspicions were confirmed, and she sensed the powerful, consuming avarice coming from each and every being within. Save one. There was a single point of light amidst the blackness of the emotions and intent within the ship, and it shown as if it were the beacon from a lighthouse in the middle of a terrible storm. Lyssah did nothing to respond to the pirates as they readied weapons, not even bothering to warm up her particle shields or weapons. While she was hardly outclassed, quite the contrary, there was simply no purpose. She, the lone redeemable being aboard, and the universe were far better served if she simply let them board, and proceed to cripple the corsair vessel from within. Not a single one would die, oh no, at least not by her hand.

Oxygen asphyxiation, or hunger on the other hand, that would do the trick. Lyssah hated fighting, and loathed killing even more than that. She also knew that if she simply swept through the ship without slaying a soul they would simply move on to another target and slaughter them all in a deranged form of retribution. She didn't have enough facilites to hold them all, nor she the power to gently mold each mind to what was considered "good."

Wrex, who had been sleeping soundly on one of the spartan couches that was bolted into the side, hopped up and growled menacingly at the newcomer. "Hush, Wrex, hush," she cooed, "I know. They won't kill us, and we won't lay down and die." She glanced back to her companion for a brief moment and offered a fleeting smile before shifting her gaze back to the approaching pirate ship.

"I'll help...," a voice crawled within her skull. It sounded so familiar, but the name and the face that she should've been able to attach was just behind the eye of her mind. That state of limbo was infuriating, where a name was on the tip of one's tongue but refused to be spoken or fully recognized. With a clenched jaw, the woman discarded the thought and snaked a telepathic message back to the woman, "alright. Just... don't get hurt."

The woman clad stood up, and moved across the small space to the airlock. There she stood in a relaxed stance, and casually gazed at her reflection. A black coat, holding little more than aesthetic value, clung to her torso and ended at her hip. A matching set of cargo pants clung to her legs, each pocket holding something that could be used in combat. Stun grenades, a lightsaber, a shoto, and one even held a small-bladed fighting knife. Below the coat, and tucked into the pants was a white shirt that bore the brilliant black emblem of one of the more popular bands. She loathed the rubbish, as most of it sounded beautiful but held little to no importance to the "artists".

But clothing was hardly the most noticeable attribute, nor was her shoulder length raven hair, or those almost unnaturally brilliant emerald eyes. Scars. Fresh scars criss crossed her face, some looking as if they'd been made with a quick slash while others looked as if they'd been created by an agonizingly slow, curved cut. Deep purple bruises also discolored her skin, making it obvious that she'd been tortured recently.

With a heavy sigh, she watched the door with a certain kind of intensity as her ship's aphisteel hull screeched against the brigand's durasteel. After a few moments, she heard the loud grinding of metal as the outer airlock was forced open. Shortly after that, the inner airlock door opened with a flare of intense light, blinding her to all that moved within the pirate ship.

"My my my... what's a little thing like you doing all alone," a voice called to her from behind the barrier of light. The man must have been waiting for a response, because once he received none he let out an audible growl and called to his men, "pretty, though a little cut up. She's yours tonight, boys."

Oh, how wrong they were.

Taking long deep breathes, letting the air fill her lungs to their capacity and letting out a long, noiseless exhale as the young former Knight centered herself. She knew that she is no straight forward combatant, she always even struggled to lift a simple forty pound weight with her muscles alone -- such a thing is even daunting to her. A warrior, no. More 'sorceress' than fighter, and she knew it. If she goes out there with lightsaber drawn, and gets rushed -- she knew she would not come out of it without injury. Her tactics will have to be sly, and her actions done with percision. They do not know she is onboard, and they are focused on the patrol ship and its occupant.

As the little Miraluka centered herself she watched everything unfold through the Force, she watched its shifting hues, its altering currents with each movement and changing course of the pirate crew. Gazing through the currents seeking out the nearest distorting colors amidst the grey she knew to be one of the pirate crew. He was standing outside the medbay, but not near the doorway, but along its outside wall several meters from the ships entrance it was hooked up to the patrol ship, thus leaving the man standing several meters behind the boarding party.

The girl thought for a moment, quickly she silently scampered over to the ventilation screen high up on the inner wall within the cargo hold she was still within, and popped it open. But she did not enter the ventilation, too obvious, she lifted up one of the large metal panels of the floor, but given their weight she had to rely on her telekinetic ability to do the lifting for her with as much subtlety as possible. With the metal floor panel moved she slithered her way inside underneath the flooring, utilizing the cramped maintenance tunnels to her advantaged as she crawled her way through the ship to its medbay; but only after using her telekinetic talents to move the metal floor panel back to its proper spot.

Like a serpent through a tight underground tunnel, Magdalena reached her destination, once again using her telekinesis to ever so quietly shift the metal floor panel for the maintenance tunnels, for the ships maintenance worker to be able to get to within the belly of the ship. Crawling her way out of the tunnels into the empty medbay, the first thing the girl did was pop open the air ventilation screen high up on the wall once again to further create the illusion that is where she is moving about the ship.

Tracing her hand along cold metal inner wall of the medbay -- it was all nothing more than translucent object to her sight until the distortion she sought she at last found beyond the wall. The aura of man nearest to where she was when she was still within the cargo hold, though now just on the other side of the wall of him. It was then a matter of patience of knowing win to strike, not for battle but subterfuge and distraction. She raised her lightsaber pressing the top end of the hilt against the wall, using her sight within the Force to measure precisely where his head is beyond that wall.

The moment she perceived the pirate freighter's boarding party enter and approach the patrol vessel's captain, Magdalena then made her move. With a quick switch on and off with her lightsaber its brilliant green beam pierced through the metal wall of the medbay as though it were paper and skewered the man through the back of the head exiting out of his brow. It occurred only within a trice, as the man flopped dead to the cold metal floor. Magdalena quickly scuttled back into the shifted metal floor panel and slithered back into the tight maintenance tunnel sliding the panel closed once more with her telekinesis to conceal herself.

In the midst of this it turned the head one of the pirates, a Devaronian male, who shouted a long series of expletives from his native tongue in shock of the sight. After all, he just saw a comrade flop dead with a large scorched hole running through his skull. In his native language he called over a one of the other pirates who alerted the captain one of the crew had fallen dead, but from within the ship. The two pirates quickly went to where it was obvious their crewmate was struck from, the burning hole in the medbay wall made it all too clear.

It was only a second before the pirate pair entered the medbay that the metal floor panel was quietly moved back to its proper place leaving them none the wiser. Seeing the popped open ventilation screen, the Devaronian contacting the captain of the ship through his comlink, "Someone is moving around within the ship through the air ventilation. Contact the boarding par--", before he could say anymore the green beam of a lightsaber shot up from under the thin metal floor panel into the bottom of his foot and up his leg before it was suddenly switched off again. All the captain heard from him at that point was his screaming in agony.

With a powerful telekinetic push the metal floor panel the Devaronian was standing on was flung off, and launching him up into the air slamming his head against the sealing knocking him out unconscious. Magdalena shot up onto her feet ready for the second pirate left taken by surprise. Certainly, Magdalena's physical strength is feeble, but to compensate for her lack of brute strength, she utilized her telekinetic strength -- and perhaps relies on it more than she should; but in this case it is needed. The second pirate within the medbay was little more than a ragdoll with her telekinesis as she abruptly pulled him toward her violently only to slammed mercilessly against the metal wall opposite to Magdalena with a Force Push holding incredible pressure behind it that rendered the man incapacited.

It all occurred in seconds, and swiftly as she could she crawled into the air ventilation shaft, thus what was at first an illusion became an escape route. For the couple pirates among the divided crew, those onboard, and the boarding party on the patrol ship -- left them confused as evidence that the invader within the ship is either moving about the maintenance tunnels under the floor or in the air ventilation; and with only a few left of the crew aboard the freighter, they did not have enough to do a thorough search.

The little Miraluka slipped back into the cargo hold, where she paused firing her lightsaber to keep it at the ready expecting a pirate or two may search it at any moment. The girl knew the pirates would not fire upon the patrol ship, some of their crew is already aboard and the freighter is linked to it -- they are already committed; which simultaneously left the boarding party vulnerable to patrol vessel's occupant. Magdalena wasted no time in gazing through the Force watching everything shift aboard the freighter in reaction to own actions, and plotting as to what to do next...

(I didn't think they'd have a spectacular amount of men to try and capture her. Its basically an undersized light freighter, lol. I suspect most of them are still about the ship.)

Lyssah couldn't help but squint and look away from the intense light that all but blinded her physical sight to all that moved. The pupils within the brilliant sparkling gems that were her eyes rapidly shrunk to a tiny point of black in a vain attempt to compensate for the sudden burst of light. A dull pain hammered away at her eyes and practically forced the woman to shut her eyes tightly, hoping to ease the throbbing within her sockets. It was just then that she wished her otherwise shoulder-length raven hair hadn't been wrapped up in a tight bun behind her head, and that the few locks to escape could provide more protection from that harsh light.

So, without her sight to see, the woman found that she was forced to rely on her arcane senses rather than those devoted to the corporeal. The dull pain in her eyes was hardly a distraction to the Aphithiri. She had Silas to thank for that fact. Her eyelids relaxed, and her chest began to rise and fall more notably with her slower breathing. Despite the otherwise calm stance about her frame, the woman's heart was a turbulent storm. Grief, mostly. She hated fighting, and loathed killing... though sometimes it was necessary.

A deep growling sounded just beyond a plane that her conscious mind could grasp, and it warned her of an impending attack. A swift and powerful butt-stroke to her nose. Instantly, the black-clad woman jinked her torso to the side and latched her hands onto the side of the pirate. The flowed into her muscles, augmenting them to beyond super-human as she launched his body downward into her knee, which was flying up towards him. His light, ablative based anti-laser armor could hardly hold up to the power of a beyond-human knee. Lyssah could feel the bones crunch beyond her knee, prompting her to throw her hands around the man's head and repeat the process yet again. Only this time, her knee was sent into his nose. His corpse was sent sprawling.

The fringes of her awareness could detect the friendly presence on the ship, and that it was moving in sinc with her. Though it was far enough away that it was of little concern as of yet, as she still had to focus on dominating the corsairs in the docking area. The three floodlights were tossed aside like a trio of child's toys. The sudden absence of the harsh light was a welcome relief to her hurting eyes, but it left her almost blind.

Her force powered form was a blur as she sped forwards at her top speed. Lyssah launched off of the ground with her right foot, brought her left knee up towards her chest and allowed it to drop as she lashed out at the pirates chin with the right foot. The brigand's head snapped backwards as he fell, and the former Jedi didn't withdraw her foot. Instead, it fell with him, and once it hit the ground she used it as something of a launchpad to spring forward and arc her foot around to the side of the second pirate's face.

She spun through the air as he slumped to the ground, and landed with a well balanced stance. Those emerald green eyes glared at the final conscious pirate in the bay as he shook in his boots, throwing the pros and cons of shooting at her in his head. A small smirk crossed her lips as she delved into his mind, but didn't bother to go further than read thoughts and actions. Once again, Lyssah shot forward in a 'bout of spontaneous but volatile energy, throwing a stiff wall of the Force at his legs while throwing all of her power into an upward leap.

The pirate's head was just beginning to fall down with that trip as she leaped upwards, and threw her knee up into his chin. Every once of the tremendous power was concentrated into the single point, which sent the man sprawling backwards. Those emerald green eyes looked at each of the four men somewhat sadly, almost (almost) mourning their deaths. She really did hate killing, yet she was so adept at ending lives. With a single shake of her head, and a roll of her shoulders, she walked towards the cockpit with caution in her step.

((That's what I figured. Figured minus the three Magdalena got, there were only a few left on the freighter, not including the ones that went on Lyssah's ship that she took care of.))

Through the young seer's sight gazing upon the freighter -- scanning for those who remained -- there were no boundaries to what she could see moving within the vessel. The walls, floor, and ceiling were nothing more than translucent crude matter before her sight. She watched as the captain and his two pilots moved out into the lobby of the ship from the cockpit, while the co-pilot moved toward the medbay area she had just left. She felt those who had gone aboard the patrol vessel fall to its captain, and was not surprised by the result. She felt no remorse for such people: pirates, bounty hunters, mercenaries, slavers, individuals who feed off of other lives -- in her Jedi career, especially toward its end and her travels in solitude she begun to learn there are just some who simply do not deserve compassion.

She stretched out her sight and perceptions just a little further, tracing the movements of the owner of the patrol ship. She watched the pilots and the captain fan out, they were separating from each other to search. To reach the medbay, the co-pilot would soon be passing by the cargo hold entrance where the young former Knight lay in wait. Efficiency is always based off of patience and timing -- especially timing.

Staring upon the freighter through the Force like a sniper staring through a scope awaiting the perfect time to shoot his target. Magdalena waited just for when to strike down the co-pilot as he was beginning to pass her by, while the pilot and pirate captain begun to create a greater distance between one another as they spred out; and watching for the approach of the patrol ship captain.

Taking in another deep breath and exhaling the oxygen with a long drawn out exhale to calm and center herself once again as she switched off her lightsaber. But it was then she felt, it was less knowing and more instinct -- now was the time to strike...

The cargo hold door slid open the co-pilot was directly within her path, before he could utter a word or even react Magdalena was already diving right past him. As she dove she quickly switched her lightsaber back on and with a swift reverse grip cross slash sliced him in half above the waist as she flew past him. Immediately she switched off her lightsaber as she went into a roll behind a stationary chair as the lobby was not far from her. The movment caught the attention of the pilot who was the next nearest to her. Seeing his crewmate fall to pieces, literally, and the flash of someone dive behind one of the lounge chairs he fired without really thinking or aiming.

The blaster bolt hit the top left corner of the chair, even it were not there the blast bolt would have missed the girl by a ways given it was a hasty shot with no aim. Before he could fire another, Magdalena popped back up. With her telekinetic talents grabbed him by the throat, and though she was lucid and not in some sort of passionate rage, far more subdued -- nevertheless there was a darkness to the hold she had upon him -- squeezing the air out of his lungs as she immediately moved him in front of her as a human shield. Keeping him a few inches off of the metal floor in front of her, for the commotion and noise of the pilot having fired upon her naturally alerted the pirate captain to her.

Keeping the pilot in front of her as her personal shield, moving him with her in telekinetic grip as he struggled and squirmed as he gasped for air, she made certain if the pirate captain fires -- it is his own and last remaining crewmate he kills -- that is if the pilot does not die under her grasp first. But all of this was a distraction more than a standoff, setting it up for the other factor to the equation to arrive as they were standing within the lobby just outside the cockpit of the freighter by this point...

Lyssah stalked through the almost cavernous halls of the corsair vessel, stretching out her senses so she could feel every square inch of the ship. Yet her stride still held a predatory countenance; she decided that caution was the better part of valor. While the Force was foolproof, her senses were not. Every so often people slipped through the cracks, so to speak... and she couldn't sense droids at all. No Jedi could.

Her ear for the ethereal told the woman that the female force user was just up ahead, and she had slain what remained of the crew save two. One of the two simply radiated fear, pain, and desperation out into the Force and Lyss' senses. The other was in close proximity, and simply waiting for the best time to strike at his foe. He wouldn't get that chance. The woman slunk into the mess hall, and out onto the other side of the ship where she would be approaching the pirate captain's back and not the behind his ally.

Something deep within the woman told her that the old man was preparing to attack the Force User. Foolish, yes, but it was an act of desperation. Lyss couldn't allow this to be so, as there were too many variables and there was always the possibility of the pirate getting "lucky", so to speak. Or the Force would favor him over the woman. Whichever the Jedi believed in.

She approached the man like a shadow in the night, and with the haste of a bha'lir after her prey. The woman rounded the corner, making her visible to the choking pirate and the woman who held him firm in her arcane grasp. The dieing pirate's eyes only had time to widen before Lyssah was upon his captain, and slew him in one brutally efficient attack.

A detailed plan formula had been created within her mind. One that involved barring his use of the pistol, striking the back of his knee, and then snapping his neck. She quickly discarded that plan. Not only was it far too much energy, but it was far too painful and inhumane. In lieu of that, she simply stalked up behind him and held the emitter of her saber a few inches from the surface of the back of his head. Lyssah simply flipped the ignition switch on and off quickly,and watched as he slumped to the ground, a gaping hole where there should be none.

With the business for the day done, she slipped White Fang back into its cargo pocket and looked up at the woman who was hidden by the dieing (or dead) man. Her stance was a wary one, almost as if she half expected the other Force user to attack. One could never be too careful.

"Thank you for helping me." She paused for a brief moment, allowing the pain of her facial wounds to vanish a little before lighting the fires within them once more,"may I ask your name?"

As the pilot struggled and gasped under Magdalena's telekinetic grasp, writhing in pain -- his last bit of life was at last rung out of him when the pirate captain received the beam of a lightsaber through his skull. For the brief moment that passed Magdalena remained hidden somewhat behind the now dead pilot still dangled in the air under her grip as something as a shield. The petite thing is an odd one, able to disconnect herself to eliminate her opposition without hesitation thanks to years of training, even going as far as to use one of the men as a literal meatshield. Yet, now, before whom she recognized to be High Council member of the Jedi Order, she hesitated to reveal herself; and thus perhaps in a macabre sense using the corpse aloft in the air she now hid behind out of a bit of shyness.

She nervously gnawed at her lowered lip when she heard the womans voice utter, "Thank you for helping me.", the young Miraluka did not reply, she froze momentarily in her hesitation, "may I ask your name?"

Once more finding herself taking in a deep, deep breath and letting out a long, slow drawn out exhale -- Magdalena dropped the corpse from her telekinetic hold letting it clumsily fall upon the cold metal floor of the freighter like a puppet that has had its strings cut. She gazed pon the corpse for a second -- this not how she wanted someone of this woman's standing to see her again. But what is done is done, there is no where to run this time.

Pulling back her hood revealing her face as she answered in her naturally soft, quiet -- even a little timid -- tone of voice, "Magdalena Vaaz, former Jedi Consular of the Order... I did not think you would remember me... Master Rhissai'arckan...", the girl kept the honorifics, despite no longer being a member of the Jedi Order, she wanted to at least show do respect to one such as Lyssah, "from our brief meeting on Manaan... I knew it was you on that ship... It was just like before--... the presence of a High Council member--... it... it shines bright amongst all the fog and the grey I see in the Force..."

It was only a trice later something dawned on her leading her to ask, "Are you on a dangerous assignment? I notice your Padawan is not with you."

A pair of sad green eyes watched the man as the sorceress strangled him with her mind's iron grasp. Her gaze washed over the man's face, taking in every last detail of his expression. Pain. Fear. Hatred. Desperation. The woman saw so much of all those emotions in his face. His eyes. It was enough to stir that deep well of compassion that lie within her heart, but not enough to draw anything out of it at first. She knew all too well that, were the roles reversed, he would be doing far more than simply watching as she was being strangled to death.

In fact, if he had his way, she would be in his bed.

With a heavy sigh, her mind reached into his, and blocked the pain receptors in his mind during the last few moments of his life. She also pushed a cloud of calm, comfort, and reassurance towards his mind in his last moments. A small, almost happy smile managed to spread her lips thin as she saw all of the pain, fear, and desperation vanish from his eyes and his face. Though the hatred still remained, and surprise filled the void that the others left, she didn't expect anything less.

Only a select few beings, in her mind, deserved to die in as much pain as that. Why did she do it? After knowing what he'd do, should he be in her shoes? Simple: everyone deserves mercy, even a lowly scoundrel such as that pirate. It was what made her different than him, different from other people who donned armor and called themselves warriors. That happiness quickly melted away as she felt the last drop of life slip from the man's frame, and then he was subsequently released from her grasp. His body, now under the control of nothing but gravity, collapsed to the ground. Lifeless. Not only did Lyssah hate killing, but she hated death just as much. Even if it was the death of an enemy. Evil, ignorant, and stupid as he was for choosing her as a target.

Those eyes glanced up at the woman, or girl to be more precise, almost instantly recognizing her. Those brilliant green eyes grew wide as dinner plates as she recalled the events on manaan, and how she nearly took the girl's lightsaber due to some zealous rule.

"Magdalena Vaaz, former Jedi Consular of the Order... I did not think you would remember me... Master Rhissai'arckan... from our brief meeting on Manaan... I knew it was you on that ship... It was just like before--... the presence of a High Council member--... it... it shines bright amongst all the fog and the grey I see in the Force..."

Lyssah ignored the accolades and the titles, not only did they no longer apply... but even when she was a Jedi they made her skin crawl. The woman offered a warm smile towards the miralukan girl, and spoke with a voice that almost had the quality of song. "Right. I just tend to remember people by their face rather than there presence. Its good to see you again, Magdalena," she paused for a long moment... almost asking her what she was doing on a corsair vessel, when the girl spoke again.

"Are you on a dangerous assignment? I notice your Padawan is not with you."

A prompt blush turned the sixty year old woman's face scarlet, and caused her to gnaw on her bottom lip like some kind of young school girl. How does one respond to that? "No, I actually left the Order when they needed me most out of fear of falling." "I was close to falling, so I hung up my armor and deserted" "I failed my padawan, and myself by going on a murderous rampage that ended with me doing my absolute best to slay a former lover?"

"Its...," she desperately grasped for an answer that would keep what little pride remained, "a long, complicated story." Yes. That response would work. At least until she found a way to word the answer so that it didn't sound quite so... damning. "As for my padawan, well, she's... no longer with us." Lyss' vision grew blurry with tears at the memory, and how she failed a second padawan.

"Wh-.... what about you," she hastily searched for a subject change, "why are you... on a pirate ship?" Her normally confident tone had vanished, and been replaced by one that wasn't dissimilar to the one that the young miralukan girl held. Not for a second did Lyssah believe that the girl served with the pirates. From what little she knew of her. If it was the case, however, she wouldn't hesitate to either destroy the girl or deliver her to the Jedi. She may not have been a Jedi any longer, but that hardly meant that her obligation to justice has been lost to her.

The Miraluka girl could not help but marvel in a way looking upon the countenance of Lyssah's aura in a way -- albeit it was no different from when she looked upon any High Council member when she was still apart of the Order. There was always something to it, as if they were a focus within the Force itself, a shining focal point like a glittering star -- that's how they appeared to her. The pecularities of Magdalena's kind certainly reflected within Magdalena herself, gazing upon another through the Force as all her kind do with no other way to do so, has lead them to be contemplative and careful. Magdalena was no different before Lyssah, examining what she could of what she saw in the Force within the woman.

There was something different, but the young Miraluka could not place her finger on it, she could see the shift within Lyssah by her question. The raven haired woman's dismissal of it as being a long and complicated story caused Magdalena to cant her head to the right in curiosity. But, the girl is of a cautious and respectful caste, and held no desire to press the issue more than that -- it would be impolite if nothing else. After all, they hardly knew each other, and perhaps it is something of a personal nature to which trust is required.

The news of Lyssah's Padawan turned Magdalena's disposition into a solemn and somber one. Even though she is no longer of the Order, nevertheless, it is still difficult for her to hear of a Padawan losing their life. How could it not be, though? A young life being lost to universe, being denied their further contribution to it. A sobering and heartbreaking realization for any who care enough to analyze what it means to lose a pupil. If nothing else, she could empathize with Lyssah; sure, Magdalena never lost a pupil, but she did lose a master to the darkness -- someone she cared for deeply, someone considered a mother even. It was a death of another sort.

"The pain of losing those closest to you is always the same... An agony that both aches and burns, while the gravity of it crushes your heart until everything has been bled from it... leaving only emptiness... and memories once joyous turned torturous... The only lesson it holds is suffering, and the only knowledge it grants is your own regret.", the girl uttered to herself within her own mind as a reflective passing thought.

Snapping her out of such melancholy pensiveness, the inquiry as to what Magdalena was doing on a pirate vessel made her cringe in apprehension. But she was left precious little options other than to be honest. After all, only a fool would lie to a Jedi Master. Speaking as though she were expecting an incoming admonishment for a Jedi not abuse their training and talents in such a way, Magdalena answered, "I was a stowaway... It's how I travel. Sometimes sneaking onto a smuggler vessel, a pirate vessel like this one, or posing as a refugee, or some other kind of privateer ship. I'm... not very good with the Jedi Telepathetic arts, only mediocre. But -- it's enough to get by, slip past checkpoints or the ships crew-members unnoticed when hiding. Most tend not to be very keen-minded or strong-willed to begin with. It's not hard."

(crap, I know. x.x)

Lyssah gave a single, curt nod at Magdalena's answer. Each syllable was tested to the Force, and each syllable was found to be true. "I see," she said, remembering the first time that she left the Order. The aphithiri woman had been a being of vengeance then, and smuggled herself on countless vessels to get to the planet of her choosing. Obviously Magdalena wasn't looking to kill the man that killed her padawan, but she could certainly empathize.

After a few brief moments of thought, and to clear her mind of Keilara once again, she looked into the girl's covered eyes. "If you'd like... you could fly with me. You wouldn't have to stow away on vessels any more. I'm... not with the Jedi Order anymore." She called Wrex from his place in the ship shortly after that, who came to them with annoyance scrawled about his frame.

He'd stayed on the ship, though begrudgingly, at her request. They both knew that, while he was simply massive and combat oriented, it only took a single well placed blaster bolt to kill him. He didn't have the Force to defend himself. If he died, she may as well have died as well. "At the very least let me drop you off on a planet. I plan on scuttling this ship."