When days run together (open)

[Ash]

Tink tink tink.

The sound of metal on metal contact radiated from somewhere outside the temple. Well away from the goings on and training of initiates was a single man, surounded by a handful of droids. Each of the droids continued at him, who was armed with a single spear, which he twirled around him much like a quarterstaff, deflecting and attacking in a whirlwind.

The man was shirtless under the desert sun, sweat dripping off him in the heat, but he didn't seemed perturbed by it as he fended off the the last of the droids, tossing them away. When he was done, he let out a long breath, sitting down on a rock and taking in some warm water. It took but a moment for him to feel head building up inside his body.

Not fast enough... not good enough.

In his rage, he kicked up the spear he was using, and threw it into the cliff-side, lodging it in there. He rubbed his eyes, feeling the burn of the salt in his eyes. After a few moments, he stood up, walking towards it, and pulled it out. He let out another breath, and left the droids where they were, sticking his outfit fully on again, armored pieces and everything. He then began to go through combat movements again, slow and careful, exaggerating every movement. He repeated the same set of movements, getting faster and faster until what he was doing became a blur. He managed to hold this speed for some time before he reversed what he was doing, and went slower and slower until he stopped.

He sat down, thinking again. Not too long ago he arrived back from Taris, after the hell that the planet was. Something in him wasn't right after it, and he didn't know what it was. He just had a feeling, and he isolated himself away from almost everyone else. He had been out at this place with no one but training droids for the last three days. There was something he found comfortable about the isolation. He was close enough to the temple to get back quickly, but far enough that only truly adventurous people would come out this far.

[Rugs]

The figure blurred down below. Nieraan perched above, late morning sun to his back, and watched.

Diarmuid Ua-Duibhne, he thought, lips half twisted in a crooked smile. What troubles you so? The Sith below was a Knight, and kin of sort to Neiraan through species alone even if they bore no true relation to one another. He called himself Lancer, as did most other Sith, for it was a far easier thing to remember than his mouthful of a regular name.

For quite some time, the man had pushed himself to the limit and back again, with naught but the training droids to keep him company as his sweat tainted Korriban’s rocks with salt.

Nieraan never knew Diarmuid well — he’d never feigned to be his friend, beyond crossing blades with him once or twice in sparring. Yet he knew that this was a man who was troubled by something. Running from something, perhaps?

What I wouldn’t give… he thoug as he rose, dark jacket hanging open over the gray sleeveless shirt he wore beneath it. His senses could feel the strain, the turmoil radiating off of the Sith Knight below as easily as his skin could feel the heat boiling off from Korriban’s sun. But he lacked the telepathic skill to look deeper and see what lurked beneath those stormy waves…

At least without permission.

“Come Scylla,” he said, patting his thigh. The Tuk’ata pup rose to his feet as Nieraan suddenly hopped down from his perch on the clifftop perch. He landed in a crouch with a thud and a puff of rising dust as the Force absorbed the impact from his fall. He rose to his feet with a lazy nod to his fellow Firrerreo as Scylla hopped from rock to rock to join them on the desert floor.

“There’s the work of troubled man,” Nieraan said, nodding first to the droids, then the sweaty Sith. “Curious.” He walked around, lightsabers clinking as he stopped to observe the hole in the rock Lancer’s spear had left behind.

“It’s been some time, Lancer. Not since… before Taris, I think,” he glanced over his shoulder, offering a sly half-smile. “I’d almost thought you’d run off world, but here you are.”

A tug of the Force brought a rock rolling over to him. He sat on it, clearly quite comfortable with making himself at home in Diarmuid’s little training spot. “Credit for your thoughts, brother?”

[Ash]

Lancer didn't know how ti slow it down. The morning continued on, himself blind to it as he worked himself further further. Still, he did begin to get that funny feeling when he thought someone was watching him. Maybe it was just him being paranoid from running around solo for some time.

Sweat dripped off of his face and body, and if his outfit was made of anything but armorweave it would have been stained. He could already feel his skin starting to chaff from the actual metal and straps of his outfit. He was doing a round of slowing down again when the feeling of being watched turned into something else.

He turned just as a figure jumped down from one of the cliffs, fallowed by a little pup. He didn't think he had seen the pup with him during their last little encounter with each other.

Lancer didn't know this man well: in fact, most of the sith around here he didn't know. Being isolated here didn't help either. Using the force, he balanced his spear on the ground, then rubbed the cortosis bracer on his left arm, feeling the hidden spear there. He did fix the lightsaber before he came out here, just in case Nieraan decided to pull a fast one. He grabbed his red spear again, taking a few steps to the side and rested against a cliff side.

Nice of you to join my little retreat, brother. And your right, before Taris was the last time we met with each other.

Lancer shifted position again, sitting down on a rock just as the other did the same, and he rested his rested his spear on his shoulder, arms on his legs and fingers interlaced with each other... He didn't return the sly smile, keeping his face cold, unlike how he usually was. He didn't feed the fire that he knew that Nieraan was trying to make.

No thoughts: as you can see, i've just been out here focusing myself. I'm surprised to see you away from training the kids at the temple. Anything I can help you with?

[Rugs]

Diarmuid’s subtle tenseness didn’t go unnoticed. He didn’t trust Nieraan, and perhaps he wasn’t a fool for it; Nieraan had made little effort in the past to hide his belief in his own superiority over Diarmuid. You are safe, Lancer, he thought, amusement rippling through his presence. I’ve not come to challenge you. Not today.

Scylla laid down at Nieraan’s feet, keeping a curious eye on Lancer. The Tuk’ata pup looked to Nieraan, as if wondering what to do with the strange man, then laid down at the Sith Lord’s apparent ease at the situation.

“Good to know we’ve not had any secret meetings I can’t recall,” Nieraan chirped, spreading his hands slightly as a smile touched his face. “That would… disconcerting.”

Diarmuid claimed nothing troubled him, but even without the Force, Nieraan could see through the lie.

“The children can look after themselves for the moment,” he said with a shrug. “They’ll have to, eventually. And good sparring partners are so hard to find anyway — it’s not like I’m missing anything slipping out of the Temple for a bit.”

Nieraan adjusted himself on his rock, leaning forward so his forearms came to rest on his thighs as he looked at Diarmuid. “So out I went, and just happened to be drawn to a certain someone who was lighting up the Force like a lighthouse on a stormy night.”

He let the words drift off, as though he had more to say but didn’t. He studied Diarmuid for a silent moment. The Knight’s presence was… different somehow. It was hard to put a finger on how, exactly, but either then man had put on a show of being jovial earlier, or something had changed in the time since last they met.

Nieraan glanced again to the hole in the rock, tapping his chin in thought.

“I heard Taris was rough,” he said simply.

[Ash]

Lancer carefully eyed the tuk’ata pup as it laid down at Nieraan's feet, the animal's own large eyes watching its master. No doubt the little creature was apprehensive about Lancer. It seemed to relax after a few moments.

Nieraan made a little joke at Lancer's words, but uncharacteristically, Lancer didn't return any jokes or wisecracks. He closed his eyes for a moment, then opened them as Nieraan continued to talk about the children at the temple. Yet still he didn't make any comments.

Lancer reached out in the force, feeling the area around them, and spreading out to blanket the area for anyone else who wanted to sneak up on him. Save for a few small critters roaming about.

Just happened to? It must have been one hell of a walk to bring yourself this far out.

Lancer's words sounded somewhat bitter, but not aggressive. It was almost as if he thought he should have been out further so as to keep anyone from finding him. He watched Nieraan's eyes jog to the hole he made in the cliff, then tightly gripped his spear with one hand, his eyes narrowing, and his aura swirling up some.

To say the least. Something best left there. So, do you need something with me or did you just come to idly chat about my time on Taris?

[Rugs]

“And you must have been having one hell of a workout to be radiating so brightly,” Nieraan shot back. The words came easily, his voice casual rather than confrontational. Even so the underlying point of I can go where I please was there, whether Diarmuid picked it up or not. “You’re never far from prying eyes here,” he added after a moment’s pause. He glanced over his shoulder to give weight to the words. “But you know that, I’m sure.”

“At any rate, I came out here to sate a bit of curiosity, I must admit.” Nieraan decided to reveal more of his hand. He’d actually sought Diarmuid quite specifically, but he wasn’t ready to give that — or his reasoning for doing so — voice yet.

“I’ve heard… whispers, we’ll call them, that Taris was particularly unkind to you.” Now he looked Diarmuid in the eye. His manner wasn’t threatening, but firm. An edge touched his voice as he folded his hands, fingers laced together. “I don’t know specifics, but I know word is that battle shook you.

“Frankly, I don’t give a damn if you’ve got some personal issues to work out or if you spend all night pissing yourself while you dream of Rakghouls coming to tear you apart,” Nieraan went on, standing. He took a step toward Diarmuid, but remained far enough away to keep them both from arms’ reach.

“What I need to know brother,” a bit of his natural self showed here, nearly twisting the word to something derisive and mocking, “is that you are capable. Because I need someone capable for what I’ve come to you for.”

Nieraan seemed to suddenly relent. The wry half-smile flashed across his face again and his presence, which had slowly ebbed out during his talk, seemed to disperse like fog before a hot summer wind. He plopped lazily back to his rock and swept his arms wide at the training droids scattered around them.

“Or you can keep playing with your toys here,” he said. “It’s your choice.”

His voice was relaxed again, almost jovial.

His eyes, though, told a different tale…

[Ash]

Never far, but a buffer from them is always a plus.

He swirled the base of his spear in the sand at his feet, letting his mind wander for a moment as Nieraan spoke. Came here to sate a bit of curiosity? Lancer kinda felt that hard to believe. Nieraan never did come off as someone like that. There was probably something hidden, but it should come out soon enough. Lancer could be patient.

When he began to say that he heard whispers about him and Taris, he chuckled slightly, standing up, tapping the base of his spear on the ground twice before twirling it around so the point was facing the sandy surface of the planet. The man continued talking, and Lancer could feel his anger start to bubble. He was normally in control of his emotions, but right now... Lancer nearly lashed out when Nieraan took a step closer, but he held back, taking a breath. The sound of screeching metal sounded off close by as he crushed a droid with force.

You and everyone else should be happy it shook me up some. Gives me plenty of excess emotions to deal with the bullshitery I get from certain little pricks.

There was a little bit of Lancer's usual reflection in there, but not enough to say he was anywhere close back to how he usually was. He looked Nieraan dead in the eyes, his own orange eyes narrowed more than usual, almost smirking.

So Nieraan, the great trainer or Sith, came to someone roughing it out here in the middle of nowhere. Ill give you a hand, brother.

Finally, Lancer let a smile touch his lips. There was something missing from it, like death was smiling. He twirled his spear again, setting the base on the ground as he put a small amount of weight on it.

So... Whats the plan?

[Rugs]

”You and everyone else should be happy it shook me up some.”

Nieraan smiled a little. Let’s not get carried away, Diarmuid, he thought as Lancer spoke. Don’t think I have any real feelings for you. Whether the man found some newfound drive or went of the rails as a result of Taris’ horrors was of little concern to Niraan.

In fact, he wouldn’t mind a bit if Diarmuid crumbled beneath the weight of whatever stresses pressed down on him; it’d be one less potential rival to keep track of. There was value to that, among a sea of threats.

I bet, with the right pushing here and there… Ah, a thought for later, perhaps.

“The plan?” Nieraan chuckled, leaning down to rub Scylla’s spine-lined back. “It’s simple, if you can keep your head. But let’s not have that discussion here.”

Nieraan rose, popping his neck. He allowed a smile to touch his face as he looked at the crushed training droid, then turned a toothy smile to Diarmuid.

“Let us return to the Temple.”

[Ash]

Lancer couldn't help but wonder what exactly was going through Nieraan's head, why the other even wanted to fetch him for some mission or another. Lancer kicked the base of his spear, letting the shaft push the head towards his own body, and rested against his shoulder.

Finally Nieraan spoke, an odd look touching the others face as the words flowed. Nieraan touched his little pet, then rose to his feet. Lancer shifted his grip on his spear. Now they were to leave here. Always one to beet around the bush. It would be much easier if everything was just said so they could get a move on. Lancer motioned with his spear tip.

Lead the way.

Lancer collapsed his spear now, bringing it down to a baton size and grabbed a brown pack near him. He tossed it on his back, clipping its straps down so that there would be little shifting. During his short stay here, he rarely unpacked anything from this, so there was nothing he needed to grab.

[Rugs]

The walk back was a simple, if extended, affair across the rocky desert. The two made the journey in relative silence; Nieraan had little to say to Diarmuid until they reached his destination. Neither, he assumed, did his companion feel the need to strike up conversation to feel the air with empty words.

They passed into the Temple’s shadow, then into its gates. Nieraan made a brief detour by the training yards. This particular mid-morning moment found them largely empty, as he expected. A few students straggled around here and there. Most worked alone, blades cutting the desert air as they worked their form against invisible foes. A pair sparred in one far corner. Their presences clashed with near the same vigor as their blades. Nieraan grinned subtly at that, until he and Diarmuid passed inside, leaving the dueling students behind.

“You are familiar with Toprawa, yes?” Nieraan asked as he led Diarmuid through one stony corridor, then another. He turned abruptly to his right and the two were suddenly in a small briefing room. A switch on the wall turned on a dim light, and the presses of a few buttons on a metal panel sent the door hissing shut behind them.

Nieraan moved to a circular projector in the middle of the room. He worked it for a long moment, and the projection of a verdant world suddenly appeared.

“It’s a border world,” he said. “Or has been. Republic territory for the moment.”

The map expanded outward, showing a smattering of stars along a spine of the Hydian Way. A few systems were highlighted as bright pips—Taris on one end, Toprawa on the other. A stretch of green surrounded Taris, representing Sith space around the newly-conquered world. The rest was dark red, save for a stretch of green at the beginning of Sith space beyond Toprawa.

“It’s an isolated world, now that Taris has fallen,” he went on. “We expect that fighting will continue in the worlds near Taris for some time, but we should ultimately take them. These two, however…” the map zoomed in on Toprawa and Yavin, “are far from the Republic’s reach. Beyond easy grasp of the bottleneck that taking Taris created. Yavin is of little immediate concern. Toprawa, however…”

The map zoomed in again to lonely Toprawa, hanging in the air between them. Nieraan smiled at Diarmuid.

“We have plans for Toprawa.”

[Ash]

The walk back to the temple alongside Nieraan and his little pup. It was silent, but he had no issues about this. What was there to talk about besides Nieraan needing his help with something. The silence made the walk seem to go slower than it really was, but eventually they came up to the temple.

Nieraan led them on a small detour through the training grounds. It was mostly empty right now, save for a few little initiates. Most happened to be training by themselves, but there was a pair of them were dueling each other. They continued on into a briefing room where Nieraan finally spoke.

Toprawa? I know it from some readings.

Nieraan continued to talk about it while working on something or other, turning off lights, shutting the door, and projecting planet. He leaned forward on the table, putting his weight on his hands on the table as he looked at the planet. It seemed like a fairly nice place, even if it was held by the Republic.

As Nieraan spoke, the map expanded outwards, showing a broader area of that part of the galaxy, including the newly conquered Taris.

Plans? Let me guess, They start with us going there and wrecking everything?

[Rugs]

“Wrecking things?” Nieraan’s grin turned malevolent and gave way to a chuckle. The hologram’s soft blue light glinted off of his yellow eyes and, for a moment he seemed every bit as mischievous as his youthful face indicated. “Maybe, Force willing.

“More importantly, we’re there to start a change, see,” he continued. The hologram shifted again. Toprawa dissolved, dust on imaginary wind, and a man came into focus. He was Human, perhaps in his early sixties. Wings of white at his temples stood out from the rest of his neatly-arranged greying black hair. His jaw was square, his face stately. His dark brown eyes demanded not only attention, but respect.

“This is Toprawa’s governor, Lee Vuusen,” Nieraan said, as the man’s bust spun lazily between them. “He’s a staunch supporter of the Republic and has, until now, fancied himself and his world as something of a… bulwark, let’s say, at the edge of Republic space.” Nieraan snorted a laugh. “He’s a nuisance.”

Vuusen faded away. Another image replaced him, one of a crowd gathered at a rally. Blood red banners, trimmed with black in the style of the Sith Empire, hung behind the dais of a man who spoke with fist slammed onto his podium. Even here, hundreds of light years away and weeks after the image was taken, Nieraan could feel the fervor radiating from the figure as the image zoomed in.

“And this is Torkin Lanith,” he said. “We are going to be assisting him.”

Torkin’s features came into focus as the holoprojector settled its view on him. He was young, perhaps his mid-thirties. His dark brown hair was cut short, stylishly arranged in a fashion that seemed to fit more with the booming trends of cosmopolitan Muunilinst than the sometimes-sloppy creations of life in the Outer Rim.

He was tall, and wore a dark overcoat that gave emphasis to his athleticism rather than lose it. His bright green eyes, set neatly in his handsome face, seemed to pierce the soul.

“Lanith leads what most on Toprawa simply call ‘The Movement,’” Nieraan said. “Officially, the party’s name is The Movement to Secede from the Republic. It’s not an officially-stated platform of theirs that they want to join the Empire, but well…” Nieraan motioned to the banners hanging behind Lanith. “They don’t exactly hide it.

“Even before Taris fell, they found some support among Toprawans. The Republic obviously focused on fortifying Taris, and a lot of Toprawans felt they were being left out in the rain,” he went on, leaning against the projector. “But since Taris fell, whispers started spreading that the Republic was responsible for a Rakghoul outbreak. And Rakghouls are terrible.”

Nieraan chuckled, looking up long enough to give Diarmuid a significant look. “Not that we’d know anything about that, right?

“Anyway, that and the loss of Taris itself have given The Movement a lot of popular support these days, and Lanith intends to capitalize. That’s where we come in.”

The projection morphed to a map again, this time showing a city by a glittering inland sea. “This is Salik City. Capital of Toprawa’s western regions, and for now, The Movement’s seat of power. The planet’s central government is headed in Toprawa City. We’ll link up with Lanith, then make a move to eliminate a few key officials, including Vuusen if necessary, to help The Movement take power while they have momentum.”

Nieraan shrugged as the projector returned once more to Toprawa as a whole, rotating between them. “This is something the higher-ups would prefer be done quietly; the less noise, the quieter the transition to Sith control will be once Lanith is in power. We’ve already got his assurances on that, if we help him. But, if it comes to it, well…” he shrugged again, “we’ll do whatever the hell it takes.”

Nieraan clapped his hands together, grinning at Diarmuid. “Any questions?”

[Ash]

Lancer remained silent, his orange eyes narrowing on Nieraan as he chuckled like a young boy. After than, the other continued his briefing, and Lancer brought his eyes back to the planet, which to an older man, age shifting his hair towards grey from its original dark color. This man looked respectful, and Lancer had no problem seeing him as the leader of the planet.

So, this man and his followers were all for the Republic. He nodded slowly, taking in the holographic man's form before it shifted to someone else, and the background showed him all he needed to know. Lancer's lips slowly curled into a smile, his sharp canine teeth showing. This man looked less like a diplomat who would just sit back. This man wanted action, and looked to the Sith to get him to where he wanted.

Lancer fully stood up again, crossing his arms across his chest. This man seemed to have the same sort of charisma as Lancer, so it was no wonder he could gain a leading. His movement, with how Taris went, also was getting a nice little boost.

I'm half surprised this movement isn't all over the net. But their name is a little long winded.

He chose to ignore the little bit about the Rakghouls,not allowing it to get under his skin. There was no point for him to cause any trouble right now.

The holo changed again, becoming a city. More directly, it was the city for The Movement. Lancer wasn't expecting anything as fancy as this. He blinked, then nodded slowly, silently. He was curious as to when they would meet up with The Movement.

Doing this quietly shouldn't pose to be much of a problem, especially when it came to assassinations. Lightsabers leave a pretty unique signature, but Lancers spears... no, they were quiet, just as deadly, and leave much more blood. He uncrossed his arms, rolling shoulders, joints popping, and he pops his finders. His orange eyes had almost a thirst for blood.

Id say what kind of opposition are we looking at, but im more anxious to leave.

[Rugs]

“They are, if you know where to look,” Nieraan answered with a subtle smile. “You saw that rally; it’s not like they’re bashful.”

On the contrary, The Movement had only grown bolder with the Republic reeling in the aftermath of the Battle of Taris. Lanith was an intelligent fellow, and he knew an opportunity when he saw one. An opportunity of this sort wouldn’t come along often, after all…

“Resistance shouldn’t be too heavy if we’re smart about this,” Nieraan went on. “Obviously we’ve got everyone involved would prefer to avoid a civil war. So I’d say we have an interest in not cocking this up.”

A pause followed, as Nieraan’s expression went very briefly thoughtful.

“Not that it matters to me personally what happens to this backwater little world,” he said, shrugging but you understand. Good business and all that garbage.

“It’s possible we may see some Republic stragglers, but Imperial intelligence has determined the Republic’s presence should be minimal, at most.” Nieraan paused again, this time to look at Diarmuid. His yellow gaze held steady for a moment, questioning the man’s fitness for the mission, if certain… complications arose on the mission.

Had the whispers of his near-meltdown on Taris been accurate? Or just another exaggeration born from the chaos?

“It’s always possible some Jedi might be nosing around, but I trust you can deal with that, if needed,” he said simply.

His fingers danced quietly over the control panel and Toprawa blinked abruptly out of existence. The room’s lights came on, dim and white.

“We leave in the morning.”

[Ash]

Not having much of the Republic there will make operations easier.

He nodded slowly, thinking of one of an infinite number of scenarios that could happen.

Whatever happens to them, its on them.

Lancer was simply implying that they were never there. It would be interesting to play a ghost, as Taris didn't give him much time to operate in that fashion. He grabbed his red spear from his back, it collapsed to a baton size, and twirled it around slowly as Nieraan continued to speak. How much more blood will he spill with this bladed weapon? A smile slowly crossed his face, it even showing in his orange eyes as the numbers continued to grow in his head.

When Nieraan mentioned Jedi, his aura changed, him becoming slightly angrier than he should have. He stowed his spear on his back again, turning towards Nieraan with an idle gaze.

No matter. If they get in the way, they will end up dead.

He nodded when Nieraan said they would leave tomorrow.

Anything else?