Calm Before the Storm [lmr, sparrow, kt]

[Mara]

Looma was only half-listening to the conversation the Kel Dor had struck up and that Var had joined in. There didn’t seem to be any immediate threats from either or the two, and so she focused on herself for the time being. She was concentrating on regaining her strength, calming herself through the Force. Slowly but surely her balance returned, her legs no longer feeling wobbly. Her breathing and heart rate returned to its normal cadences. Gradually the yellow Twi’lek was feeling herself again, or at least the shadow of herself that she had been since returning to Korriban. The rage that had boiled up earlier had drained away and gone back into hiding, waiting its next release.

Suddenly, she felt cold. All the adrenaline and heat of the battle had dissipated, and she was feeling the effects of being soaked to the bone. Looma considered the possibilities of just pulling off the water-laden cloak, or just keeping it on, preventing a further drenching to her under clothes. For the moment she just decided to keep on all her clothing, reaching down to needlessly wring out the hem of her cloak. But that small movement reminded her of the unlit lightsaber hilt in her hand. She blinked at it, not recognizing it at first, but then quickly shoving it to its position on her belt when her mind put two and two together. Upset at herself for having used it, she just pulled her cloak tighter around herself, foregoing any attempts at drying it out.

With the rain pounding on her sensitive head and headtails, she pulled the soggy hood up and over. That and her slight shivering had brought her back to the present and switched her focus. The conversation between Var and the Kel Dor appeared to be over. She saw the other Sith walking away from them. His appearance and now disappearance was a bit confusing for Looma, but she felt it wasn’t something worth spending any mental energy on. She was using most of her strength to try to wrap a warm blanket of the Force around herself, saving a little for what Var might do to her now that the Kel Dor distraction had left.

Her violet eyes thought they saw some hail now coming down with the storm, but then as she looked harder, she realized it was her metal shards. When she looked around, she found Zarene again, now closer to the two Twi’leks. And Looma’s metal shards were in the woman’s control, spinning around her hand. If she hadn’t been sapped of strength from her duel with Var, nor so cold, the yellow Twi’lek probably would have done something about the violation she was feeling of her property. Maybe a Force push, a biting comment. But all she could really muster, though, was a hard stare at Zarene uninfluenced by the Force.

The other Sith finally broke her silence then and spoke. Even if she had wanted to disobey the order, she had already been following it before Zarene’s voicing of it. Looma was standing there in her wet cloak, arms hugged around her torso, using the Force as well as she could to keep warm. She figured the command had to be more intended for Var than for herself. The pale Twi’lek was the hotheaded one, the one prepared to kill a fellow Sith. Even so, Looma had no wish to explain herself to Zarene or think about the reasons why she would ever need to speak to her, especially after the woman took her metal shards, a gift that she held dearly. She intensified her glare as she replied, managing to put a bit of the Force behind her words. “So talk.”

[Lemur, The Kool-Aid Guy]

Var glared at the offensive Kel Dor as he passed by, but didn't lift a hand against him. Odds were he was out of her league, though she'd dearly have loved to rip off his breathing mask and shove it down his gaping throat. Yes, that was the anger talking. But she was supposed to listen to it, as it gave her power.

Which was precisely what she'd taught and followed for so long, thanks to indoctrination and immersion. That was the way she'd learned to see the universe. The way all these Sith did, surely. There were so few exceptions to the rule. They were an archetype, an example you could clearly see in their history.

History she was hardly a scholar at.

No sooner had the Kel Dor left than Zarene Yin walked up and started to issue commands, which she was good at. She was, after all, a bridge to the upper echelon. And that meant when she said something it had to be obeyed.

As much as she didn't want to simply give up and walk away, letting the woman who'd start the fight leave it with impunity, discretion was by far the better part of valor. That was what differentiated her from Sith like Cho. She knew better, and she knew precisely what she needed to do in order to survive. That was the reason she'd lived through things.

Her thumb found the switch on her lightsaber, and the red blade disappeared with the familiar sound associated with just such a maneuver. She returned it to her belt and closed her green eyes for a second, bringing her temper back under control.

"Whatever you say Zarene."

She stared back down at the shard embedded in her hand, noticing as the adrenaline of the fight wore off the ache increased steadily. It was a sharp and throbbing ache, extending up her arm. It begged for prompt medical attention.

In silence she turned around and started the long walk back to the medical wing of the Temple.

[sparrow]

Zarene snorted derisively as the older of the two twi'leks, Var, passed. She didn't know much about the pale, cream-colored girl, just bits and pieces that she had managed to pick up. Most of it wasn't terribly encouraging. And to think that they had been assigned on a mission together. Zarene hoped that the girl fought half as well as she glared. Somehow she thought that that might have been a little too much to hope for.

She turned back towards Looma, twisting her hand around and pushing outward gently with her palm. "Here." The spinning metal shards divided into five lines before reforming back into a ball floating in front of Looma.

"Yes, talk," she muttered. "But I'd rather not do it out here and end up being soaked in the rain." The raindrops made a pitter patter sound as they struck the surface of the metal plate that protected her shoulder, bursting into smaller droplets that splashed onto her face. "So I'm going back to clean up my kill and get a warm cup of tea. You coming?" With that she picked up her rifle and slung the bag of dead shyracks over her shoulder again.

[Mara]

(((All righties… this is Looma's exit from this thread...
I'll wait on you for the new one...)))


As she waited for Zarene to explain herself, Looma had a vague notion of a change in her surroundings. Words spoken by Var and then the other Twi’lek’s subsequent departure—a tiny part deep inside of her briefly showing relief at this. Though, she couldn’t pinpoint anything solid in what was actually happening. The rain, her soaked-almost-to-the-bone body, and Zarene were all holding her attention and focus at the moment. There really wasn’t any more room in her tired mind for anything else. All her energy had been sapped due to the fierce but brief battle with Var. Any that remained was being used trying to keep herself warm, staying aware of Zarene, and controlling what little anger had resurfaced at the violation she felt at seeing the other Sith take her small but deadly weapons.

Looma blinked in surprise, seeing glinting metal coming towards her through the downpour. It took her a moment to register that Zarene was returning her shards to her, and she glanced at the other woman before turning her attention back to the sharp pieces of metal. At any other time, she may have thanked Zarene for giving them back, but as it was, she just didn’t feel like it. Of course, she was glad to have the precious shards back in her possession, but considering everything that had just transpired and what was still to come, decided to take no further action. With a shiver, she reached inside her robe for the bag she kept the metal pieces in, opened it up, and guided them in with the Force. She felt a little more whole with them safely stored away again against her body.

Zarene spoke then, but it was not exactly what the yellow Twi’lek had been expecting. Perhaps she had been thinking too much into the reason why the other Sith wanted to speak to her. It could be that it was something entirely innocent and benign. If there was something important on Zarene’s mind, though, apparently it could keep a few moments longer, and this lifted her spirits slightly. Zarene’s earlier demeanor and sudden appearance in the conversation, coupled with the aftermath of Looma’s duel with Var, had brought a bit of the yellow Twi’lek’s anger back. She hadn’t wanted to be reprimanded for her attack on the other Twi’lek but had been ready to take it. But now Var was gone, and she had her shards back, was beginning to feel normal again; the emotion had faded away.

She stood there, her thought of ignoring Zarene quickly dissipating. Whatever it was Zarene wanted with her, she would take it as the Sith she was, or thought she was. Plus, she just had no energy left for arguing a matter that might well prove fruitless. But she agreed with the other Sith woman; it was better to get back inside the Temple. Anything Zarene needed to say to her could be done within the dry safety of the stone buildings. Looma nodded her head slightly in response to Zarene’s question and wrapped her sodden cloak more tightly about her body, a chill shooting through her body at this. Pulling on the Force to try and quell it, she moved forward and past the elder Sith, towards the Temple, not waiting to follow the woman in. A tiny spark of defiance shining through her dull animal deference to a more alpha being or perhaps just an eagerness to be out of the rain—the reason didn’t matter to Looma.

[to Tea Time at the Temple...]