Window Shopping (Harukei)

[Neology]

Ryn wasn't coming back. That much was obvious. Darth Novus lingered in the courtyard, watching acolytes pair off for saber practice. An instructor barked commands nearby, pausing occasionally to correct posture or footwork with a calloused hand.

Perhaps Jessoin had found some way to kill the fallen Jedi? She crossed her arms, frowning to herself. While she had no doubt that the Zelosian could be subtle, he simply loved to gloat. That she hadn't received another coy message, beckoning her back to Korriban to collect the pieces (as he'd done with Vance,) suggested relative innocence in the matter. More likely Ryn had murdered his escort and run. He'd always been a rather suggestible personality.

Still. The subject of her wayward studant-bodyguard bore no more thought. She needed to find a replacement to fill out her retinue. Today. And yet, watching these … She had no use for children or dimwitted adults. Novus drew the instructor's eye with a wave of her hand. The bulky human padded over to her, irritation washing briefly over rough hewn features.

“Yes, my Lady?” Then, to his charges, “Keep going!”

“Introduce me to your students, Juall. Maybe I can take one off your hands.”

[Harukei]

A streak of frustration would wash over Syrin as she dodged the ill intended attacks of her alleged sparring partners. They were all children, barely into their mid-teens and an easy task even with the numbers in their favor. Had Juall picked them as a mockery for her? Or did he expect that the inevitability of their defeat cull the weaker ones of this lot? 

Even with an weapon that felt so alien as the practice lightsaber, Syrin would dodge and parry the attacks of her adversaries. With a spin on her heel she smacked the butt of the hilt into one neophyte's nape, knocking him down. The other two would rally together, attempting to use their numbers once more in an attempt to overpower her. 

The assassin would bide her time. The sequences of Soresu and Shii-Cho taking prominence. Intermingling with the strikes and flurries the neophyte's would wield. Clearly they had being taught well, he would give the massive instructor credit on his teaching ability. Yet in the pass exchanges between blades, she had recognized their level of competency with the forms. Shii-Cho for sure, but one seemed to begin to take his first steps into what she would consider to be Shien while the other was most concentrated in Makashi. An odd pairing to be certain. 

It was then when she saw an opportunity. As the Makashi wielding female backed away, the Shien user felled upon her with an over hand strike. Her mind quickly scrambled and brought her blade guided by her hand to receive the incoming strike. The crimson energy blades whined in contact. Syrin contained the strike and moved forward and with a quick motion delivered an elbow strike to the first neophyte's gut. With a wheezing sound he backed away and fell down, holding his stomach.

The Makashi user would follow through, attempting to exploit the opening that her partner had created. Something that was expected. Taking hold of the hilt of her own blade, she swung against the lunge, knocking the weapon from her opponent grasp and singing the skin of the weapon hand but not severing it. It was over. 

With the small spar ended she looked at her defeated foes and heard the voice of Juall. Not shouting the usual commands to his new trainees. But simply having a conversation like any regular being. Something which did a number to surprise her. The Knight wondered whether this was a superior or another Knight seeking for an apprentice. 

"I am done with them Juall." She said in a calm tone, barely shifting her gaze to gain a glimpse of the man. Realizing that he wasn't alone. 

[Neology]

“Well?” Novus arched one brow, impatience tightening her lips. She pushed a lock of white hair behind her ear and strode past the instructor. Juall followed at her heels.

“What about that one? She seems competent.” In addition to that, oddly dressed and older than most of the other students, shorter and more solidly built than Novus herself. Competent indeed, but not bloodthirsty. That was interesting – and unusual among young Sith. Necessary if she expected a second apprentice to ever strike an accord with Vance. The former padawan had been difficult to live with since Taris. Even now, he refused to leave their ship so long as business kept them on Korriban.

“My lord, I … She's not -” Juall frowned, staring at the young woman as though she were a unexpected mud puddle that had soiled his favorite boots. 'Not technically under your authority, is she?' Novus thought. Not a fresh acolyte then, and her possible elevation would certainly be of little benefit to him personally. Novus shrugged dismissively and rested her palms on the railing, looking out into the courtyard.

“It doesn't matter. Extend an invitation to that one for me. My office at her nearest convenience.”

---

Novus sent for tea and a light lunch, then waited ensconced behind her desk. That edifice, a blast resistant hulk of durasteeel and black glass, took up much of the room and was situated against the back wall. Overgrown shelves of hydoponic plants lined both others beneath their glolamps, large fruits and stems supported here and there by cleverly placed nets. An overstuffed armchair had been dragged out from one of the corners and dusted off for her expected guest. Truth be told, she rarely visited this office - much less conducted interviews there. 

Still, it was easier than inviting the other woman to her ship. At least this way there would be no argument from Vance if this didn't work out. 

[Harukei]

Juall would ignore her for a while. His shouts as he scolded the acolytes that he had sent to defeat her gaining a glimpse of his wrath. Once the lecture was over, the massive instructor would allow her to enter his personal office. A cramped space in which his desk and personal terminal dominated the slate blue-grey of the room. As he sat behind his desk, the fury of the man was palpable even without the need of the Force. 

A seemingly unnatural frown had taken hold of his features and his face was turning into a violent shade of red that she had only seen with stars. A part of her wondered what had caused such reaction. Was the defeat of his pupils so hurting and humiliating that he could not control his anger? A part of her readied in case that he decided to whip his own lightsaber to take her life. But other was calm that he would not do so.

"Are you going to tell me why am I here?" She asked after a time. "Or are you simply continue staring at me until your eyes disappear under your frown?"

"...Darth Novus has invited you to her office." Jaull said, his voice shaking in anger. "You. A corrupted student instead of one of my trainees." 

The news of the invitation came as a surprise to her. She had to wonder what would a esteemed member of the Sanctum would want with her. She had being made a Knight relatively recently and thus far her missions had only involved subtle assassination. Although the mention of one of his trainees brought some insight to her. 

"Well, you could have simply told me instead of wasting my time." Syrin said, raising from the seat and living Juall's chambers, ignoring the flurry of expletives that he tossed to her.

---

It had being just a few minutes of travel within the levels that led to the training arenas to those that were held by the upper echelons of the Sith Order. Syrin noticed as how each step she took to the direction of Novus' office, some anxiety was building within her, even as if her stoic features remained as inexpressive as always. Her mind would spin with consideration of what would she want with her.

However there was little time to considerate as before she could realize it, her feet had directed her to the entrance of the office. What she assumed the guards of the Sith Lady's retinue would confirm her identity and after not too long, she was allowed to enter. At the end, behind a desk awaited the attractive Arkanian. 

As she moved forward, Syrin took a moment to notice how unusual her office was. Instead of the usual gloom that other Sith had, the location was inviting, tranquilizing, although the faint aroma of dust could still be percieved. A few meters before her desk, Syrin knelt, the violet of her eyes staring at the shiny floor, not daring to look at her unless commanded. 

"How may I be of service, Lady Novus?" Syrin asked in calmed tone. 

[Neology]

Novus flashed her guest a crooked smile, motioning to the armchair across from her. As she watched, the other woman knelt into a formal bow instead. 'How odd.' She'd grown rather accustomed to the posturing that happened when two Sith met for the first time. They never recognized her. Of course, she'd be very bad at her job if they did.

Well, she didn't want to have this conversation while the other party stared at the floor. It was likely take some time, could be hard on the knees.

“Please. You may sit.” She turned her attention to the covered plates and tea kettle. Carefully, she poured two cups.

“It's good that you know who I am. Saves us some time.” Novus leaned back in her chair and sipped from her teacup; a gesture designed to let the other woman know that it wasn't poisoned. Useless good faith, of course – as two dozen dead Alderaani noblemen might attest. In any case, there was nothing suspect in the tea.

“One of my apprentices went missing some months ago. At this point, I do not expect him to return. Consider this a job interview, of sorts, Ms. … ?” She lifted the lid off the tray, revealing a simple lunch for two: cold cut sandwiches with cheese and leafy greens on thick, crusty bread and a selection of sliced fruit. “Assuming you are interested.”

“Now, if you've been engaged for any sort of work by one of my peers, this is where you would tell me. If I were to discover such a thing later – and I would discover it, trust me - I would be most irate.” Novus speared a bite-sized chunk of pink fruit with her fork and popped it into her mouth.

[Harukei]

Syrin did as it was commanded. Sitting before the desk as the Dark Lady of the Sith had previously gestured as she had entered her office. The young woman sat upright, taking care to observe the actions of her host as she poured tea for both of them on porcelain cups. The Sith considered briefly that there could be poison on the tea, perhaps to get rid of competition or as a test of sorts. And idea which was quickly discarded as Novus sipped from her own cup. Syrin followed suit with the ritual and sipped some of her tea. Noting the herbal flavor that felt invigorating in some way. The violet of her eyes navigated over the meal that had being laid prepared for them, allowing herself to taste some of the sliced fruit.

The theory that she had formed in her mind would be quickly confirmed. The idea of being apprenticed to someone of her power and prestige was one that she didn't object. After all, Syrin was powerful for someone of her age given the training that she had received, but what she had achieved was relatively minor compared to some of her contemporaries. It was a necessity for her to grow more powerful and if the Arkanian before her could provide such pathway, it would be a foolery not to take it.

"Syrin Elar, milady." She responded. "And I willing to be your apprentice."

However the words that followed kept her on her heels. Despite the sweetness on which the words that escaped her lips, there was seriousness that would send shivers through any living being spine. Hers included. The Sith Knight made a quick mental note of whether she had taken missions from other members of the Sanctum. 

"Not directly milady." Syrin said after little thought. "Intermediaries handled missions given to me that were approved by members of the Sanctum. Mostly sabotage and assassination of traitors to the Order and the Empire." 

[Fromikeable]

Why in the hells am I on Korriban? It was hot. Sand was everywhere, even indoors. The only people to be seen in this… this temple were Imperial officiers and Sith… knights? He wasn’t even sure of what to call them; most had been Jedi, but most seemed as though they would rather burn in pitch than ever be referred to by their old titles.

They might have been Jedi once, but now they were… anti-Jedi. It had never really struck him just how strong an opposite most of them were.

Even as he walked briskly through the temple’s corridors, everything felt… switched at the poles. There was no peace, no calmness, no… no serenity. Only plotting, only malcontent, only tension, as if the whole thing was a volcano waiting to blow. How could anyone call this power? This was a living torture, at least for him. He recognized that he was still rather set in his ways, but…

Well, with everyone on a hair trigger in an environment as stressful as this, it wasn’t much of a wonder self-control was hard to find.

So the sooner they could leave, the better. He just… he would never admit it out loud, but he missed Rhen Var. At least he knew that place; he knew the snow, and Hedrax, and the temple, and the silence save for the wind. It wasn’t peaceful or serene, but it was… patient. It wasn’t ready to pounce; it had already chosen its moment in the near future, and was quietly waiting until then. That, at least, made him feel more at ease.

So when he sensed another presence in Novus’s office with her, he sighed audibly. She’d said she’d be done by the afternoon, hadn’t she? Wasn’t today they could finally go?

Juuuuuuuuuuust perfect. He certainly had no other place to go than her office; he’d had a hard enough time keeping a low-profile today. Novus was bound to hear a few stories later about how her apprentice didn’t jump to a few challenges he’d been issued. He wasn’t sure if it was his personality, how reserved and defensive his presence had been, or something else, but he could’ve done without a few interactions over the past few days.

This one seemed unavoidable. Making sure his hood was up, he patted his hair, pulled his robes a little tighter, and sucked in his presence like one would suck in their gut. With that, he would open the door to her office, remaining stoically silent as he caught a glance of her guest. A woman, about his age by the sight of things. He only glanced, however, keeping his head a little low and his hands near his belt, looking only a fraction as stressed as he felt. Clearing his voice, his tone was subconsciously a little deeper than normal, as if he was trying to act professional.

“Should I wait outside, ‘Lady Novus’?” He tried not to let it show, but his tone revealed how awkward it felt for him to call her by her title.

[Neology]

Novus acknowledged the introduction with an incremental nod, filing it away. Spontaneity was not typically one of her virtues, but ... well, it didn't hurt to be just a little unpredictable. She'd make up the research later. Tapping her fingers thoughtfully against her desk, the Dark Lady made a mental note to see all the appropriate files transferred onto her secure personal console aboard the NZT-331. Some light reading for the trip back to Rhen Var.

Just like that, the young woman voiced her agreement. No questions? How curious, or rather, how not. She quirked an eyebrow and sipped at her tea. Doubtless she saw this as a great opportunity for advancement – which it was, Novus supposed. Such notoriety was not without danger, however.

“Very good. From now on, your orders come directly from me. Have your things brought up and we'll find some rooms for your use.” She leaned back in her chair, contemplative. Vance's presence in the hall, much less turbulent than their last visit to this noisome desert. The door hissed open.

Hm. It was strange seeing the teenager in robes of the appropriate shade. At a glance, he didn't even seem to be sulking. Novus cocked her head to one side, the ghost of a smile turning up the corner of her mouth with pride. Vance was finally learning to fake some propriety – wonderful. Though if he was getting better at playing Sith, her need for a second apprentice did become rather less pressing.

Time to see how long that deference would last. She suspected he wouldn't like the news.

“No, please come in. Syrin, this is Vance. My other apprentice.”

[Harukei]

"At once." She replied to the orders with a nod.

Syrin could say that she was pleased by the turn of events. Even if her features didn't show an observable change from the usual solemnity which were displayed unto them. She considered the way in which she was now being brought unto the fold of Lady Novus. Perhaps with a tinge of disappointment at the moment, but surely there had to be tests and missions in her future in order to prove her worth to her new Master. 

Another part of her mind began to consider what sort of lessons she could learn from the Sith Lady. Given the little time for the audience, she had not being able to gather the information she had wished for. Thus what she knew about Novus was vague at best, rumors she had overheard from initiates and acolytes as they whispered among each other in the halls of the temple or as they shared a meal in the mess hall. At the end, these were rumors she had given very little credit for. 

Her thoughts were interrupted as she sensed someone outside the office, a fact confirmed by the hissing of the doors. Immediately she would overhear the Arkanian Sith Lady address the newcomer as Vance another apprentice of her. After the introduction of the man, younger than him by the looks, it simple struck Syrin that he looked as if he didn't want to be here, and thus had failed to leave lasting impression on her. Still she supposed that some competition was not detrimental, neither for him nor for her. 

"Pleased to meet you." Was her only response.

[Fromikeable]

... she’s joking. Perhaps it was because he had never actually met Ryn, but Vance had never gotten the impression that Novus was the type to deal with more than one pupil at a time. He was biased, surely, but she had always seemed the sort of teacher that, if indeed she wanted to teach at all, would hone her efforts on only what she considered valuable. He wasn’t saying that meant that he was valuable; he was saying that she had never been, wasn’t currently, and wasn’t foreseeably the type to half-ass something.

Granted, she hadn’t exactly been “teaching” him anything, but… why, after all of these months, would she take on someone new?

The kneejerk reaction, of course, was that he was being replaced. He would be the first to admit that he was an absolutely terrible Sith; he followed none of the mantra, actively tried to separate his emotions from his actions (his results were admittedly debatable), and more or less questioned, inquired, and critiqued the good Sith Lady at every turn. He’d been the one who hadn’t trusted her for weeks after she’d found him on Taris, and was still wary to. He’d been the one who had chewed her out in one of his angriest moments in life after Alderaan. He’d been the one who had sat crushed, beaten, electrocuted, and solemnly defeated after their return to Taris, causing her to be, of all things, sympathetic and peaceful.

His skepticism of her, this Order, these temples, and this entire notion of the “Sith” was downright unreasonable at times. But why would she endure it all that time only to crack now? He wasn’t so hard to replace; it was as easy as throwing him out an airlock and finding someone new. Not exactly her style, perhaps, but nevertheless easy. Beyond that, she was far too strong to crack in the first place.

In short, if their coexistence had ever been something she’d wish to live without, she could and would have ended it much sooner than now. Perhaps he had changed too much for her liking? Perhaps not enough?

Thus his moment of silent squinting at them both, the cogs in his head spinning about, formulating questions and doing their best to not make his shock blatantly obvious. For what little it was worth, he managed to retain his composure, the silence and the facial expression being the only immediate tells.

“... likewise,” he responded to the youngest of the women. Who precisely was she? Where had she come from? How far up the Sanctum’s rear was she buried? Why had Novus chosen her? And how many ways could she kill him right now?

That last question made his fingers tap his saber within his robes. Novus wouldn’t simply slay him in her office, but…

“... I take it we’re replacing Ryn?” Clearing his throat again, he sounded downright proper. Inside, he was a mixed bag of confusion, fear, anger, and irritation, all expertly hidden behind an astute telepath’s capacity to conceal their presence.

“And here I thought it would just be me.” It was his attempt at subtly asking her the first and foremost question: why?