Matters of Fealty {Meira}

[Rugs]

Nieraan walked to place he didn't want to go.

Life had been going well since he joined the Sith, or as well as he could have expected. He had a place to stay and a degree of protection provided others that shared at least some broad goals and enemies, even if he wouldn't call them 'allies.' His influence had grown, and his abilities, physical and in the Force continued to advance.

For someone who'd known only the shelter of an abusive mother's home and the company of gangsters and criminals for friends, it was a step up. Though the Sith weren't so different than the gangs had been, if he thought on it.

Everything had been going perfectly. Until the ground started falling out from under him.

The first shock, the biggest shock, came on a journey home. Whispers from Metellos reached him a few months ago, whispers of sightings of a ghost returned that should have stayed in her grave. He didn't believe them, but in spite of it, he went to investigate, and to his surprise, found Kamirille still alive to greet him.

To his dread, he found he was no more able to fend her off than he'd been as a scared child on the fateful day she stole him away from his father.

But after that, things settled. The knowledge that she yet lived still lurked constantly in the back of his mind, as did her threat to take his sanctuary away from him if he didn't keep her updated on his doings. But he managed to keep her at bay in the time since.

Then he found Danica. Danica was good. Danica was trouble, if the wrong people learned what was happening between them. But she was a breath of a fresh air in a hard, empty life.

Nieraan reached the top of a flight of stairs and turned to begin his climb up another.

Other Sith had begun to rise in the Order; Sith that might have been as strong or even weaker than he, yet rose to levels of influence that were, technically above him. Not that it mattered much to him. But he wasn't blind to the potential problems peers with a higher position could present, rather he respected them or not.

And then, as if he hadn't enough to contend with, Cassius. Nieraan still wasn't sure what to do about him. Kill him, clearly, but it wouldn't be so simply done...

And so, when life finally gave him a chance to go home to Korriban, he took time to ponder his position, as Kamirille had always taught, and made a decision.

He hated the choice it led him to, but there was no other person he could turn to. No one with the same... understanding as the one he sought.

As he reached the top of the last flight of stairs, he stopped and squared his shoulders, ignoring the phantom throbbing between his temples as he stared toward Renata's lair. Better not to think about last time, he told himself as he walked toward the door that was shut before him.

He hadn't announced his intention to visit her, but he knew she was there, and he wasn't so stupid as to think she wouldn't know he was coming.

Nor was he so stupid as to think he came into her domain from a position of strength.

And yet...

He stopped as he reached the door and sighed, trying to clear his thoughts. It truly felt as though his head pounded, but he knew it wasn't the case. With a final moment of hesitation, he took a breath, he, put his hand to the door, and pushed it open.

[Meira]

"That's hardly official business." she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest. She couldn't stop the slight smile, however. And he saw it. Even through the holo feed, Renata could feel his arrogance and satisfaction from seeing her cave in.

"Tsk, tsk. You know what they say about 'all work and no play', Renata."

She shook her head, still smiling, but something sounded at the edge of her mind. She turned her head away from the holo feed, honing in on the ripple in the force until she identified its source. How interesting.

"Much as I would love to entertain your whims, my lord, it appears I have an unannounced guest. We can continue this discussion when you return."

She didn't give him the opportunity to reply, but deactivated the holofeed and moved to sit down at her desk. She felt the general frustration in his mood as he approached and noted how he hesitated at the door. To say he had piqued her interest would be an understatement. She considered the idea of making him wait once he knocked, but he offered no such courtesy. The door opened and Nieraan entered.

"Well, I see your manners haven't improved." she said, interlocking her fingers on top of her desk. "But please, have a seat. Would you like something to drink, Aurelius?"

She stood, moving around the desk toward a table at the side of the room. She poured a deep red liquid from a pitcher into two glasses and brought one back to Nieraan. She sipped her own, her eyes squinting slightly at the man. He'd done well in avoiding her since their last encounter. But he'd also done well in taking on his increased responsibilities. She'd been satisfied to know that he hadn't lost his irreverence. Annoying as it could be, the trait set him apart from the others.

"I hear you were at Thila. Congratulations, it was a beautiful victory."

[Rugs]

"Well, I see your manners haven't improved."

Thrilled to see you too, Nieraan silently retorted at the woman as he crossed the threshold into her domain. He didn't say it, though; he'd come for something, and too much antagonizing would get in the way.

She welcomed him in, in her own way, offering wine. Nieraan didn't really care for the stuff, but he didn't stop her from pouring it for him. Reminds me of mother Kamirille, in ways... There were differences, yes, but the resemblances were there. The thought sent a chill finger down his spine.

So Nieraan sat.

Renata drank from sipped from her wine. His remained untouched on her desk. He looked into her eyes, some sense of defiance if not open challenge there within the acid yellow depths. A phantom throbbing pained his temples. He ignored it pointedly.

"I hear you were at Thila. Congratulations, it was a beautiful victory."

"It was a beautiful battle," Nieraan said, and that much at least he meant in earnest, though his voice was dry as leather left too long out in the desert heat. "I eagerly await the next one."

Nieraan leaned back slightly, resisting the urge to fidget. He didn't like sitting across from her at the desk like a child sitting before the headmaster at a school. He didn't like the simple wasting of time with small talk of the war.

On the other hand, he absolutely didn't like thinking about what the woman's reaction would be at his request, and he doubted there was little he could do about it. Just push ahead and try to be done with it all.

Still, he wasn't comfortable here. So he stood. "You'll forgive me if I want to stand," he muttered. It wasn't a question.

The Firrerreo paced slightly, glancing around Renata's office, but not touching anything. His mind turned, over the challenges that faced him and the way he should present this proposal to Renata.

"The... students are progressing," he paused, searching, as he often did, for the right word for the master-less Initiates he oversaw as a training instructor. His methods were harsh, as his own learning had been, but they worked. "Turns out most of them just needed a strong, steady hand..."

Nieraan growled softly, annoyed at himself for skirting around the reasons he'd come here in the first place.

He sighed, letting the knots in his shoulders and upper back loosen as he turned to look at Renata. Again, he looked her directly in the eye, not necessarily challenging, but neither shying away. "So I've come to you do discuss opportunities," he said, before deciding to put it more bluntly. "To discuss advancement."

He could almost hear the sound of his mother cackling at him.

Force help me...

[Meira]

"It was a beautiful battle. I eagerly await the next one."

She smiled and nodded her head. Part of Renata had wanted to be there with the rest, in the thick of battle... feeling lives blinking out of existence all around her. There was such beauty in death. But alas, she would not be where she was within the Sith if she ran off at every chance to fight. That was not her place. It was a task for lesser members of their Order.

Nieraan became visibly uncomfortable within only a few moments after sitting down. While he did not move around in his chair, his posture was unnatural for a man so prone to slouching. He'd tried leaning back, but it didn't help. Renata watched him all the while, amusement tugging at the corners of her lips. What has you so worked up? She wondered, but kept silent, deciding it would be more fun to simply let him work himself into knots. She was right.

Soon enough, he stood, assuming her forgiveness. Renata dipped her head slightly. He was free to do as he wished. Far be it from her to stop a good show. He moved around and she couldn't help but wonder just what was going through his mind to cause him to act in this way. Renata was tempted to pry, but resisted. Nieraan had come to her, of his own free will no less, to speak with her about something. Already, he was behaving in a manner more to her liking. Playing with his mind would only sour his mood, and it could very well scare him off. No, he'd made her far too curious now. Even still, she waited, allowing him to stew a bit longer until he worked up the nerve to say whatever it was he came here to say.

"The... students are progressing."

She blinked, an eyebrow raising slightly over her ice blue eyes.

"Turns out most of them just needed a strong, steady hand..."

"I gleaned as much from the reports..." she said, tilting her head to the side just slightly. He growled, barely audible. It was becoming quite difficult not to laugh. But then the man visibly changed. He seemed to compose himself before turning back around to face her. Their eyes met and his determination was unmistakable. But, determination for what?

"So I've come to you do discuss opportunities. To discuss advancement."

There was a moment, after he'd spoken the words, in which Renata's face remained blank as she processed the meaning. But when she realized who's advancement he was speaking of, Her thin lips parted into a toothy, knowing smile. It all made sense now. Oh how this must be irking him, to stand here like a good little pet and petition for his own treats. He wasn't on his knees, but Renata had to imagine it felt about the same for him. She might have resisted temptation before, but this... this was too good an opportunity not to pass up.

"Of course." she said, her tone matter of fact as she stood from her chair and retrieved a datapad off her desk. Her fingers danced across the surface of the datapad as she moved around the desk and toward Nieraan where he now stood by the screens on the wall. She stopped by his side and the screens lit up, each displaying a picture and brief information about a number of the initiates under Nieraan's tutelage. Renata smiled, looking back and forth from the screens to Nieraan.

"Which ones do you believe are ready to be elevated?"

[Rugs]

Muscle stood out on the side of Nieraan's face as he clenched his jaw and bit back his first comment.

As much as Renata's antics annoyed him — and he knew she knew they annoyed him — telling her off wouldn't get him anywhere.

Well, not telling her off in the way he was tempted to.

Neither will strangling her again, he silently told himself, though he was in no hurry to have his mind assaulted once again.

He knew she had some idea of where the students should have been — he routinely made filed reports on their progress. But if she wanted to play at having a personal update on the, far be it from him to stop her. Instead, he played along, and decided to offer an honest appraisal of some of the faces on the wall of screens in front of him.

"Torrance has potential, but he tries too hard at times," he said, nodding at a young Kiffar that was dark of skin and hair with a slender face and shrewd, quietly burning eyes. "He has it in him to routinely best the others in his group, and when he's on, he does. But he's his worst inhibition. Too much.

"He chains himself to mediocrity," Nieraan said flatly. "I'm certain it's a chain that I'll break, but the boy's hardly ready to move on yet." He scanned the rest of the faces. Other students showed glimpes of promise, or had flashes of brilliance in their own ways. Some were older than Torrance, some younger, but all shared a common level of training and experience.

None was a more promising prospect than the Kiffar; if Torrance wasn't ready, none of them would be.

"What is he doing here?" Nieraan's brow furrowed at one student in particular. He was a Correllian, young enough, with scraggly patches of beard clinging to his face. He was one of the worst of Nieraan's students.

"I'm not certain why you pulled Rod," the Firrerreo muttered. "He's consistently the worst of any of my groups, and consistently refuses to improve." The young man had a habit of blaming others for his failures. It was maddening.

"My reports haven't changed on him," he said, looking at Renata from the corner of one eye with a brow slightly raised. There was a question to the look, but he left it unspoken. "Anyway, this one would be better off lost in the Valley or thrown to the front as cannon fodder. Forced to grow and adapt, or dead. I can only beat the child for so long...."

Nieraan fell thoughtuflly quiet for a long moment.

"So that's my opinion on that," he said after a while. "Do with it what you wish. " He turned from the screens and looked at Renata again. "But you and I both know I came to you for myself, not for them."

The words burned on his tongue. He felt like a dog, begging on his hind legs for a treat from the master's table. But it would be worth it, if he got what he'd come for, he told himself.

A strengthened position was worth a few moments of ignominy. He only needed to endure...

[Meira]

She didn't even bother hiding the self-satisfied smile as it won over her features. Why should she? They both knew the game here. Renata had even been kind to Nieraan since their last meeting. Not once had she let on to anyone what had transpired between them. Their paths had not crossed often, but she'd had the opportunity to shame him, but hadn't. Was she not kind? Was she not merciful? Then what was this, this tiny little game, compared to all of that? He knew. He bit his tongue and he knew. So she smiled.

What's more, he played along. So Renata listened intently as Nieraan spoke about one of the initiates under his tutelage. She nodded her head at his words. No, this one was not ready, but he was close. There was a pause, one that Renata saw no reason to fill, and then Nieraan's eyes seemed to lock onto something. She followed his gaze as he indicated toward one initiate by the name of Rod.

"What is he doing here?" Nieraan asked.

"He's one of yours, is he not?" she replied, innocence laced across every word.

Nieraan went on to explain poor Rod's many faults. When he was done, Renata allowed a moment to pass before she removed all the faces from the screen. She tapped the datapad against her palm a few times before finally speaking.

"It can be said that an instructor's true worth is revealed in his worst pupil. No bad students, only bad teachers... you get the idea. Perhaps you simply need to find what motivates him." she began to move back toward her desk where she took a seat.

"You could just kill him and be rid of the problem altogether." she said, dismissively. "But where's the fun in that?

"Now, I take it you've had quite enough talk of other people. Forgive me for taking the focus off of you for a moment. I will say, you've done as fine a job as I might have expected from you with these initiates. And now you'd like a little recognition for it. That's understandable."

Renata leaned back in her chair and studied the man. She could not deny that Nieraan was doing more for their Order than most. It was quite impressive. For a man who so openly scoffed at authority and structure, he fell into line quite nicely. She decided to allow herself a decent portion of credit for that. Renata took up her wine glass, sipping slowly at the contents as she contemplated.

Advancement was imminent for Nieraan, that much was certain. Yet still she paused at the thought of elevating him further. The man was still a wild card, prone to bouts of stubbornness and defiance. She couldn't just break him. His spirit was a vital part to his drive and determination. If he lost that, he'd be useless to her. But Renata still knew that reigning him in was a necessary precaution. All that remained was a method that would accomplish this while keeping his nature intact.

"Tell me why." she finally said over her cup. "Why should I grant you this?"

[Rugs]

Nieraan bit his tongue and kept his disagreement to himself as Renata implied that Rod's failings were his fault. It wasn't as though Nieraan ignored the boy, as much as he grated on his nerves. He had even tried — unsuccessfully — to push him harder than all the others.

But the fat bastard refused to budge.

"I can see when a cause is lost," Nieraan said simply. "I'm training this... child for war, not some soft Core World life. It is not my job to baby him along until he decides to change his mind."

"You could just kill him and be rid of the problem altogether..." Nieraan's black brows rose in interest.

"But where's the fun in that?" His shoulders sagged in annoyance as he sighed.

"I'm sure I could find some," he said idly. But Renata was moving their conversation in another direction, and the Firrerreo obliged. Generally, the less he thought about Rod, the better his mood. He folded his arms across his chest and shifted his weight to his right leg, nearly leaning against the wall of Renata's screens.

"I will say, you've done as fine a job as I might have expected from you with these initiates. And now you'd like a little recognition for it. That's understandable."

Admittedly, it was tempting to smirk like a self-satisfied cat, but Nieraan held his composure. It was more than the Initiates, though, at least in his mind. Since coming to the Order, he'd generally done as he was told, even with the occasional flare of trouble. Every mission, every battle, every assignment he'd been given, he'd completed. They provided him chances to test him skills or keep himself sharp, in Force, mind, and body, and usually weren't anything he held any qualms with.

Now he wanted his due, and his sanctuary had to be preserved.

Renata leaned back in her chair, sipping at her sanguine wine as she studied him. Nieraan remained where he was, arms folded with his weight supported a hair's breath away from the side of a screen. It wasn't hot in Renata's office; even if it was, Nieraan wasn't often bothered by heat or cold. Still, an annoyingly-noticeable bead of sweat had formed between his shoulder blades. He wanted it to fall away, but it clung stubbornly to his back.

His wine still sat untouched on Renata's desk.

There was something in that gaze of Renata's but he couldn't quite gather what, or whether it was good or bad for him.

"Tell me why," she finally said. "Why should I grant you this?"

Nieraan's jaw clenched briefly. The question was an annoyance, but not unexpected. Nieraan's answer came naturally.

"Others have risen to the rank for less," he said, letting his arms fall to his sides. "Naarison. Vhexus. Naraka. Madora. Shard." Some of the names twisted with derision on his tongue. "What have they done that I have not?

"Some of them are strong," he conceded, "but so am I. And, if strength alone is all it takes, I eagerly await the Noghri's promotion." He smiled a little half-smile at Renata. The odds of Cho rising were small; Nieraan had been there when Renata banished him from the Temple, and though he'd been allowed back, it hadn't been with open arms.

"I have contributed to this Order, and I will continue to do so," Nieraan said, walking to Renata's desk. He leaned forward, palms pressed flat against as he looked intently at the Dark Lady. "I have fought in battles, I've put down nobles from the Galaxy's ass and back that have threatened trouble for the Order. I've trained the next wave of warriors for your cause and stopped plots in the dark before they came to light.

"None of that will change," Nieraan continued. He didn't notice the quiet intensity that was rising in his voice, nor the way his grip tightened on the table's edge or the steady stream of the Force that flowed through him as he spoke. "But I refuse to be lower than any of them any longer.

"Test me," he said, suddenly standing up straight. His acid-yellow eyes still focused on Renata intently even if he did. "Give me some task if you don't think what I say is true. I will do it."

A quiet moment followed, long enough for Nieraan to let out out a shaky breath. The Force so filled him that he felt it would leak from his eyes and open mouth if he drew anymore. Then, with the breath, it was gone. A sense of clarity hung in its wake. His eyes were still sharp as he focused on the woman, his voice firm.

"I will not have my sanctuary threatened."

[Meira]

He started so easily into his response that Renata couldn't help but wonder if he'd rehearsed it before coming here. The image of Nieraan standing in front of a mirror practicing what he'd say to her caused Renata to suppress a giggle with a feigned cough. She set her cup down, nodding her head as he spoke of those granted a Lord or Lady title, comparing them to himself.

When he spoke of the Noghri, her laugh was tempered by a look of disgust. She did hate that creature. Then, Nieraan became more intense in his speech. He approached her desk, leaned on it, and made unflinching eye contact with her as he professed he would continue to be a dedicated member of the Order. She didn't have to be skilled in telepathy to know he was speaking the truth. Now, as the force was pulled toward him, attracted to the conviction in his spirit, he made his demand. He would not tolerate being less than any of those who were granted their titles.

And why should he? Renata agreed with Nieraan. He was stronger and more able than most any other being vying for power in the Temple, yet he still numbered below some that should not hold such power over him. Yes, if these others were Lords, then by merit, he should be as well.

"I did not ask you why you deserve to be promoted, Nieraan." she said, leaning forward, but not rising from her seat. "I asked you why I should promote you. As you said, it is not strength alone that merits power. I am a testament to that. But we all need assurances."

"Test me." He said the words quickly, causing Renata to tilt her head. He stood back straight now, the force slowly uncoiling from around him. Renata was about to speak, question how he might prove his loyalty to her, but he spoke again. These words, no... one word in particular sounded out with a clang in her mind. Sanctuary? Oh, Nieraan... she thought to herself, what troubles you so, that a place like this might be a sanctuary to you?

Slowly, Renata rose to her feet. Moving around her desk, she stepped close to the man, her own ice blue eyes locked with his unnerving yellow ones. The tension he had held only moments ago seemed to have melted away. She wanted to slip her own senses into his mind, to search out just what it was he might be hiding from. But she knew how touchy this man was about his thoughts. It wasn't advisable, not now anyway. But she had a toehold, which was more than she had a moment ago. No, Renata would not let this go. She would know what bothered Nieraan so. And if she could, she might even help him with it. So long as she also benefited in the end.

She smiled, allowing the silence that had followed his words to sink in for a few moments before finally turning away from him. She stepped back to her desk, leaning on it with one hand as the other pulled her datapad across the surface. "There is something." she said, her fingers dancing across the datapad as she spoke. "Though, it requires a great deal of... finesse."

She lifted the datapad from the desk and turned back toward Nieraan. With two steps, she closed the distance between them once again and held the device out for him to take. "Do this for me, Nieraan, and you will have your title."

[Rugs]

With his say finished, Nieraan waited. There was nothing more he would say—nothing more he could say—to show her how much he deserved this promotion. How much he needed it, no matter how the knowledge of that clawed at him on the inside.

If she required action, then he would do what she wished. But Renata was not unreasonable. As uncomfortable as she made Nieraan, of that, he was certain. So would she see reason here, or would she opt to spite him?

She rose from her seat and approached him and Nieraan stood a little straighter, not that he needed to to have a height advantage over the woman. She looked into his eyes, and he looked right back into hers, the urge to look away gone for this moment. Not while he had so much to gain.

The silence stretched. She stood there, unflinching. Unmoving. Challenging him. Nieraan felt a weariness in the wake of the Force's absence from his impassioned plea a few moments earlier, but stood straight and still as iron. The determination in his yellow eyes was unwavering and absolute.

After finally allowing the silence to stretch near to break, Renata turned back to her desk. Nieraan felt a pique of curiosity but didn't ask what she was doing. He merely waited.

"There is something," she said, retrieving a datapad. "Though, it requires a great deal of... finesse."

Nieraan allowed himself to raise a questioning brow, but waited until she came back to him, datapad in hand. He took the device as it was offered to him and looked it over.

His brows raised at what he saw. Surprised, he looked at her, understanding dawning on him. "Yes," he started slowly, "looking back down at the information. It will require a great deal of finesse indeed..."

It would be difficult. If he failed, he had no doubt Renata would be extremely displeased, and his place in the Temple—his sanctuary—would be threatened. But, if he carried her task out successfully...

A little half-smile touched his lips, showing a fang. It would be hard, yes, but he lived for the thrill of a challenge—for new tests to push him and his abilities. The risk was great, but the chance for reward was greater.

He lifted his head from the datapad, yellow eyes alive with energy. "Consider it done."

[Meira]

~One Week Later~

She stood on her balcony. The thin slivers of four of Korriban's moons hung in their various positions in the sky, stars uncountable twinkling beyond. Now that the sun had set, the air was much cooler and Renata drew her shawl around her shoulders to fend off the chill. By day, Korriban's beauty came from its strength. It was a harsh world, unforgiving. Perhaps not many found beauty in that, but Renata could, when she wasn't cursing its sun. At night, the landscape seemed to transform into a much more classic beauty. The moonlight highlighted the ridge lines, softening their jagged points and giving the sand a more fluid glow. The air was more fresh, shedding its heavy heat of the day. The dust settled, and all was still.

With a sigh, Renata allowed her shoulders to relax as she rolled her head back. These days wore on her greatly. The tedium of the temple was exhausting, but the work had to be done And with Eurachis out playing general, it fell to Renata to maintain the gears and cogs that kept their empire running smoothly. The thought caused Renata to lift her head back up, eyes open and brows furrowed slightly. How long had it been?

She turned, stepping back into the dim light of her office. She touched a finger to a small set of controls on her desk and a holographic display of the galactic calendar appeared in the air just above the desk's surface. Mentally, she counted the days backward. One week.

She'd heard nothing from Nieraan since he'd left after receiving his task. This was as expected. He had to complete his mission independently. She could not be tied to it at all. When he'd gone, Renata had erased any information related to the mission from her personal servers. Now all that remained was in his mind and hers. But he knew that, once the mission was completed, he could never speak a word of it to anyone. Doing so would seal his own fate. But that was the nature of the task. He would show how deep his loyalty to the Order, and to Renata in particular, ran. Or he would die trying.

But it had been a week. Surely he was finished by now. Renata checked the logs for the landing pads, but there was no record indicating that Nieraan had returned. If he had, he hadn't come to her yet. Her brows furrowed even more. Surely he hadn't returned then. Nieraan was foolhardy at times, but he wasn't that stupid.

[Rugs]

Once more, Nieraan climbed the steps to Renata's lair.

The Temple was dark. The night was darker. He'd only just returned to Korriban some time ago, using a ship that was taken away with an Initiate's stolen credentials.

For all the rest of the Order knew, Nieraan hadn't made it back to the rocky, barren world. Then again, Nieraan had never left. He'd simply stayed around the Temple out of public eye. Perhaps indisposed with a stint of sickness, or more likely, away in the Valley on a personal training excursion, or locked away on the Nyoka, doing Force only knew what.

None were unheard of, and he'd vanished for brief stints before. He'd just melt back into his role as he had before, and all would be well.

But first, certain matters needed to be concluded.

He reached the top of a flight of stairs and turned around it to start up another, long robes swishing around his feet as he climbed. Robes were silly things, in Nieraan's mind—he very rarely wore them. Yet now he'd found a reason for the too large, cumbersome things. His head was hooded, face shrouded in shadow, and the general shapelessness of the ill-fitting garments kept a certain item he carried hidden from view.

He'd discard the things as soon as possible, but for now they worked.

A door, shut tight, loomed before him at the top of the next flight of stairs. He stopped at it, knocked once, and let himself in. He held silent until it shut behind him, then spoke to the woman inside.

"I'm sure you'll forgive me a bit of self indulgency with the costume," he said, voice thick with sarcasm, knowing how silly he looked, or at least felt. "But, I felt certain steps had to be taken."

Nieraan approached Renata's desk, hands going under his robe for some unseen object. They come out together as he reached said desk and set a wooden box upon it. Then, finally he removed his hood.

"A long, hard week's work," he said. "But the work's done." His wore a bandage around his forehead, with padding pressed against a temple—the wound was more than survivable, but even with his accelerated healing, had been slow to mend.

"Not a soul will know what happened out there, and I'm sure that will please you," he carried on, pinning Renata with his yellow-eyed stare. "And if that doesn't, well.."

He moved the box forward gently and struck the latch. It opened with a tiny click!, and Nieraan lifted the top and let the contents speak for him.

[Meira]

As if her thoughts had conjured him into existence, Renata felt a familiar presence approaching. She smiled as, a few moments later, he knocked at the door and entered. Turning to face him, Renata suppressed her laughter at the sight. The ill fitting cloak, hood drawn up to hide his face, looked like something more suited to a low budget theater troupe than Nieraan. He spoke of his costume, and Renata nodded as he approached the desk. Yes, precautions were necessary.

He produced a wooden box, plain in every way, and set it upon the desk's surface then drew back his hood. Her eyes were immediately drawn to the bandaging on his temple and she stepped forward to examine him more closely. He avowed his work was accomplished, but then, for good measure, opened the box.

The click of the latch drew Renata's attention away from Nieraan's wound. She turned her gaze and was immediately drawn in by the sight. For a long moment, she did not breathe as she stared at what the box contained. Slowly, a smile crept its way across her face until the whole of her being seemed to glow with pleasure. Quickly, she closed the lid and snapped the latch, snatching the box up and holding it protectively against her chest. She turned her smiling eyes back to Nieraan, giving the man a quick nod.

"Well done. Wait here."

With fluid steps, Renata crossed the room and disappeared through a door. The adjoining room was lined with shelves and all manner of objects. Behind one set of shelves, however, a false wall concealed a safe, in which she deposited her new prize before returning to the office.

"Aurelius." she said, moving to stand before him, eyes turned upward to meet his. She'd rarely used his Sith name, but she'd made the man a promise. Renata was not one to break promises lightly, and this moment called for a bit of ceremony. She smiled in the pause that followed the word, allowing it to fill the space between them before speaking once again. Finally, when the moment had reached its peak, she bowed her head, sliding one foot back as she dipped into a quick curtsey. "Lord Aurelius." she said, emphasizing the title he so greatly desired, before standing straight again and returning her gaze to meet his.

[Rugs]

“Well done. Wait here.”

Nieraan did as bid, simply nodding to the Dark Lady as she plucked the box away and turned from him to hide it away. He heard something grinding, felt a vibration in the ground so subtle as to make him question if it'd really happened. Then a few moments of silence passed.

Renata returned to him, her pleasure in his work still plain in her eys.

"Aurelius."

Nieraan's eyes flashed to hers. That was odd. She rarely ever called him by his monicker; it was always Nieraan or Onin with her, just as she was simply Renata to him. He almost answered, but held his tongue, meeting her look with a gaze of acknowledgment. There were times to talk, and Force knew there would be plenty more to come. For now, Nieraan was content to play the role of a quiet, obedient servant.

All the while, he silently reveled in the gravity of what was happening.

Finally, he thought as she came to stand before him, letting a long silence stretch thin the air. Finally.

Power. Strength. Security.

"Lord Aurelius."

Sanctuary.

One word. Four insignificant little letters, and his sanctuary was preserved. Now he could count on one hand the number of people that had semi-realistic claim of power over him. As for the rest, he was free to do as he wished with them.

In the end, that was worth any minor amount of head bowing and begging he had to do — as along as his goal remained intact.

“My Lady,” he said, following her courtesy with a small one of his own. He even bowed — it was a small, slight thing, the slightest inclination of his head that was barely more than a nod. But the significance, he hoped, would not be lost on Renata. It certainly wasn't as he lifted his head, lips pulled back to a genuine smile and eyes alive and burning in the dark. “It was a pleasure to serve.”

He paused, a laugh stuck in his throat as he took a deep breath and sighed, feeling a weight lift from his shoulders. “Well, aside from getting' knocked in the head.”

[Meira]

He was a man of strong emotions. Renata could feel the air around him stirring with them as she had paused before giving him what he wanted. The desire for power was certainly no strange thing here at the Sith Temple, it united them all toward the common goal of wiping out the Republic. It was a thin bond, delicate and easily broken if those who held the desired power were not vigilant. But the desire wasn't the only thing inside of him. Something else stirred. But Nieraan hid his emotions well, and so Renata found it difficult to pin down just what it was.

That is until she granted him the title. Satisfaction, fulfillment, pride; these were the most common sensations when people were granted names or titles. But here, relief was strong. Renata was, to be completely honest, at a loss. The man who stood before her had always been the embodiment of confidence. Rough and irreverent, yes, but always assured of himself. Was it all really so much of an act? And if it was, why? What plagued him so that he had to hide behind such an elaborate mask?

Her confusion with the man was so great that it almost prevented her from enjoying his rare display of respect. Almost. His slight bow and the use of "My Lady" wasn't something one saw or heard from Nieraan often. It was good to know that their understanding continued. And she didn't even have to hurt him this time. Their relationship was progressing nicely.

"A pleasure?... to serve?" she said, eyebrows raised as if in surprise. "Be careful, Lord Aurelius. You don't want people thinking you've gone soft." At his mention of his wound, Renata's smile changed into a mock of pitty. "Yes, you poor thing." she said, her lips pouting with the words. "You should have it looked at. You don't seem like much of a medic." she said, indicating the poorly done patching.

The words served as a dismissal as she turned away from the man. He was sure to want to run off and celebrate his new title. Perhaps with Danica. Renata smiled. But that sense of relief filled the room again and Renata couldn't help but allow her senses to extend a bit more as she moved around her desk to her chair. She pressed, ever so slightly into his mind and a single word came back into her own.

"Sanctuary." she said, her voice just loud enough that he might hear. "An interesting word choice." Her eyes raised, searching to see if he would meet her gaze.

[Rugs]

“Gone soft?” Nieraan almost smiled a the thought. It showed in a subtle twitching of his lips, but a little more. If anything, he'd be more of a pain than he already had been. To most, anyway. “No, I don't think anyone will have to worry about that.” He nearly added another My Lady to the end of his reply, but held himself from it. Renata's gift was great, true, and they had an... understanding of sorts among themselves. But that didn't mean it was time to get carried away.

Besides, he was still very well aware that he'd weakened his position against her to gain among others. Intentionally so, and a worth trade, but best to remember that.

He huffed and shrugged at her suggestion of finding a medic. “I'll survive,” he muttered. “Won't even know it was there by the end of the week.” At that, the Firrerreo did smile slightly. Toothily, like a smug cat. There were advantages to being him. Sometimes.

His business with Renata finished, he turned to leave, cursing quietly as he nearly tripped over the Force-damned robe. In truth, leaving Renata's office this way was much better than the last time. Getting what he sought took longer than he expected, but he'd gotten it all the same.

And he wasn't being forced to retreat to the dark of his room with a splitting headache this time, either. In fact, he might not even go to his rooms. Danica's were so much nicer-


"Sanctuary."

The word, carried by Renata's voice, sounded like a gunshot in the still of a desert night. Nieraan froze, elation replaced with trepidity. His hands closed to fists within the long robe sleeves.


"An interesting word choice."

Nieraan's body tensed as his mind began to turn through scenarios. What did she know? How did she know?

Did I slip? Or did she look... No, no. Better not to think about that. If he did, he might get angered, and that was the last thing he wanted after such an auspicious meeting.

Slowly, he set his guards around his mind as his quietly worked his mouth. He could feel Renata's eyes on his back, but had no desire to meet them.

Right then, he only desired to walk through the door and leave the question forgotten.

He took another step forward, but paused with his hand on the door, waiting to open it. “I think,” he said slowly, his words measured and cautious, “we all have things we'd rather forget, Renata. Things we'd rather not speak of.”

Nieraan looked over his shoulder and met her gaze flatly. The subservience, the hints of obedience in his sun-gold eyes that had been there a moment ago were gone. His eyes were hard now, challenging. The set of his brow stubborn and the tone of his words speaking to say discussing the matter was over.

And through it all, the slightest bit of knowing, of significance, as he spoke his final words to her.

“Wouldn't you agree?”

His robes swished around him as he turned and quietly left the room. He hurried down the stairs, pulling the hood back up to cast his face back into the shadows that veiled his identity. He wrapped his presence tight around himself, wanting to draw as little attention as possible.

After a week of hard, dirty work, he'd gotten what he sought Renata out for. That was a victory, and put some worries to rest.

Now a new worry started to eat away at him, and the implications made him feel sick to his stomach.

{Fin. I think. Unless you wanna do a last post}