Lydavis stretches and enjoys the genuine light as she walks about the foliage beyond the Togorian womens' cities. They had been warned—repeatedly—about the dangers of going out into the territory of the more primitive men. Outsiders genuinely were not welcome there. Yet, the group all seemed much to be in agreement that their chances of finding a force-user candidate of genuine note was poorly within the capital. Besides, the risks seemed far more favorable here. Even if she was getting attacked by bugs. “Why did we have to walk this way?” “Because I imagine they would react far worse if I landed the craft amongst them,” Tannus shrugs, easily bounding about the fauna. Ibeth sweeps away low-hanging branches with his staff, “Yes, but I imagine weaponry of that calibre pointed at their faces might be quite the quelling force.” Tannus chuckles, “Is your answer to explode everything with ships?” “Anything I can't blow up myself, sure,” Ibeth smirks. Ilo sighs, looking about with red eyes, “Why do we always end up in such primitive environments, again?” “Azazel likes them,” Lydavis shrugs, “Just be happy you didn't have to try and wrestle with Noghri.” Tannus sighs, “With how loud we are, I'm surprised they haven't ambushed us yet.” As those words leave Tannus rustling is heard in the branches above and Lydavis and Ibeth look up just in time to see a party of six feline Togorian, wielding swords and spears about to jump down. Without waiting, the three Sith wrap themselves in protection as Ibeth stops, planting his staff in the ground and looking up, “I am Ibeth Nikto, Morgukai and Disciple of the Dark Lady. We seek to talk.” He sets his jaw, fingers gripping tight on the cortosis staff. The Togorians remained silent and then jumped down, surrounding the four off-worlders. The one who landed in front of Ibeth reared himself up to his full height, a scar running across his forehead and over his left eye which only contained a white orb, cocking his head while leaning on his spear. "Don't see many off-worlders around here... and usually Mandalorians or other like-minded people searching for Togorian mercenaries." He shrugged, "Never heard of this 'Dark Lady' but talk if you want, we might listen." Lydavis stifles a laugh at the mention of Mandalorians before Ibeth nods and leans against his staff, relaxing as if the warriors surrounding him worried him not. “I imagine you wouldn't. She prefers to be less known. But she does seem impressed with the tales of Togorian culture. She—and ourselves included—are always interested in learning more about other peoples'. And, truthfully, away from the populace cities, we tend to find certain individuals talented in... ways other than simply smashing and shooting.” Tannus nods and looks over the Togorians, “Indeed. But foremost, it would be rude of us to ask more without offering to explain more ourselves. Have you any questions for us?” The older Togorian muttered something in his native tongue and glanced at his fellows, who jsut grunted a response back, one of them said soemthing and gestured at Tannus that made two of the other let out a sound that vaguely sounded like laughter but at a gesture of the elder they went quiet as he spoke up again. "You wis hto learn about our culture? Surprising you go to the wilds for that, usually people like yours ask the women about everything and they are happy to tell you." Tannus grins, “And where is the fun in that? We see enough of cities all the time.” Ilo grimaces and crosses her arms, murmuring to herself, “You maybe...” Ibeth shakes his head, “Ignore them. They do not quite understand cultures such as ours or the ideals of honor. Something the Dark Lady wishes to invoke in them one of these days, though.” Lydavis sticks out her tongue at the comment quickly. “But yes, I understand the divisions, but perhaps we could learn more of your warriors... We have dealt with the Mandoa and Noghri, I am Morgukai myself... Yet each are different, yes?” He drums his fingers along the staff as he surveys the older feline man. “But, to understand you, and to even begin to understand what you all are capable of, we cannot simply ask the womenfolk of your world. They only present one aspect and cannot truly demonstrate this side of your tradition.” The elder opened his hand and let his claws spring out, grinning, showing razor harp teeth. "You almost sound like a slaver trying to learn our way to make it easier to get labour. Do you want to know what we do with slavers around here? Especially to those who might think of taking our children or mates just because we men like the nomadic ways of old?" Ibeth raises his staff challengingly at the elder, “You insult me greatly. Take back those words, because we are not such filth.” Lydavis rolls her eyes and moves between the two, “Enough of this. The big guy might give a damn about your culture, but I for one have had enough of these challenges in the middle of nowhere. The boss isn't here, and I don't intend to have to wrestle the natives when she's gone. So, for the sake of simplicity, have you encountered any force-users or heard talk of them amongst the other nomads.” Ibeth lets out a low growl at her interruption but still does not lower his weapon. The elders hairs were rising and he was about to growl when the Twi'lek stepped forward and spoke up. His snarling face was replaced by one of confusion and then a guarded expression. "A force user...: He laughed and shook his head, "You came here looking for legends and myths? There's no such thing here." It was Ilo's turn to step in, apparently, though she was especially careful to avoid some small lizard creature scuttling near her feet. “You're lying,” she states, fully aware through the force. With a quiver of her leku, Lydavis scowls at the elder, “Now that isn't very nice. Why don't you tell us the truth, now?” At the tone of voice the other Togorians growls and raise their spears and scimitars, readying themselves to either attack or defend themselves while the Elder takes a surprised step back before narrowing his eyes as he ignored Lydavis's suggestion. "Why should I tell you the truth? You are giving me no reason to trust you. In fact quite the opposite." Ibeth frowns, looking at the group around him, “Girls. That is enough...” Lydavis turns to snap at him before Ibeth raises a hand, “You're protecting them, then?” She harrumphs and draws back, fighting back the urge to take out her frustrations with the Togorian leader. The elder looks from the snarling Twi'lek to the Morgukai, "If there were such a person, why are you looking for one, I hear that there is quite a bounty on force using individuals." “We are well aware of that,” he says, crouching down and picking up a rather large and squishy bug. “Think fast,” Ibeth directs as he tosses it straight at Ilo's face. She lets out a shriek, putting her hands out and stopping the creature, suspended in the air before her as she looks about with frightful eyes, “Why would you do that to me?!” Ibeth shakes his head and gestures to the three younger individuals. The elder widens his eyes and then looks at each of the off-worlders before looking at Ibeth. "You are all shamans?" Ibeth laughs, shaking his head, “Not myself, I'm afraid. I'm just good at the fighting parts, but they are.” Tannus sighs and scratches the bridge of his nose, “Scaly, your bad breath could have the same effect, I'm sure.” The elder relaxes a little and seeing that the others do too. "So you are just looking for kindred?" “Always,” Ilo supplies, “It used to be far easier, or so I hear, but the bounty does pose a problem to having 'shaman' conventions.” The elder nods after a moment and gestures. "We'll take you to him then, as you may understand he leaves away from the camps and we... well most of the younger ones are afraid of him, because of his abilities that they can't explain." He says, hoping nimbly over a fallen tree as he began to lead the group through the jungle. The other Togorians taking up position around the others, following as well. After some time through the jungle, the only interesting bit happening when a large spider dropped on Ilo's head at which she shrieked why that always was happening to her. The group reached the base of a mountain with a path leading to a cave above, a totem that looked somewhat scary facing them. Gesturing at the totem the elder spoke up again, "Warning that nobody should trespass, but I think he would like a exception for others of his kind." Ibeth is about to begin in when Lydavis reaches out a hand, “This is no beginner... He very well may rival Tannus and myself... Be careful.” Ilo looks worried for a moment. Tannus however just gets a small smirk at the corner of his eyes as he nods to the elder, “Thank you for leading us here. I am sorry for the aggression and half-truths earlier.” With that, he decides to take the lead himself into the cave. The elder follows, motioning the others to stand back at the beginning of the path. As everyone enters the cave they see that is definitely inhabited, cooking utensils and a sleeping cot of leaves in a nich of the cave wall, and at the far end, sitting on the ground a Togorian male who opens his eyes as people entered his home, frowning he looked at the elder. "You brought off-worlders?" The elder nodded and gestured, "Three of them are shamans." Was all he said. At that the cave inhabitant turned his attention to the others. "You are practicioners of the living force?" Tannus eyes the individual up and down, “Yes. And you are as well?” Ilo looks curiously at the shaman, she knew the same question was on all of their minds... Whether he was more Jedi or Sith. So far, walking in on the man in what appeared to be meditation... It did not seem like a good sign. The Togorian gestured at them all. "Lightsabers?" He asked quietly. Holding his hand out, his lightsabre snaps to his hand. Ilo more cautiously slides hers from her side as Lydavis shifts the skirt of her dress to reveal the harness for it upon her leg. “Do you have one yourself, shaman? I imagine they are not very abundant, especially...well...” Tannus gestures slightly about the cave. The Togorian regards the lightsabers and then with a nod reached out and two sabers flew from hidden niches in the walls to his hands. "I have made my own saber and have the saber of my former master." He says showing two plain looking sabers. "So what brings you to my cave, in search of me?" Lydavis shrugs and moves forward to sit upon her knees across from the Togorian. “Our mistress. She is always on the look-out for other practitioners or those who show promise.” Tannus nods slowly, crossing his arms, idly playing with the lightsabre between mechanical fingers. “You said former master? There is another?” "Not for a long time, he died." He said simply and then cocked his head. "Your mistress? I see, and what do you mean by 'show promise' exactly?" “With the force, as pupils, allies, leaders,” Lydavis looks over the objects of the cave, suddenly feeling quite terrible for many of those who were not as lucky as to have found their way amidst other force-users or those who could at least accept them. It was not a comfortable living. “And our teacher, Azazel. She is still alive and well, but otherwise busy.” At that point the elder piped up, "They also called their mistress the Dark Lady." The shaman cocked his head at that, frowning. "Oh? Why would you call her that?" Ibeth perks up at that, “A name that seemed to stick since her time with the Noghri. She earned their respect as a warrior and was for the most part adopted amongst the clan Jucchat.” Lydavis nods slowly, “She had challenged their best warriors, even the Matriahk's own son in honourable combat. We are still friends of the clan to this day... The title... It could have been her hair. Or the colours she wears... Or perhaps it is because she is Sith.” The Togorian blinked at that revelation, looking at each of the off-worlders. "I. See." With that revelation he activated his sabers, two blue blades shimmered and glowed into existence. "I suggest you leave, or I will be forced to defend myself and those I call friends." They all stay put defiantly. “You assume we are here to cause you harm?” Lydavis snaps, “We have been accused twice today now. We've presented no harm to you or your friends.” The Twi'Lek glares at the Jedi indignantly, “Jedi or Sith, we're all alone in this Galaxy and yet there are still these hostilities from ages past that have no bearing today. We are not all great monsters that old stories paint us out to be.” Tannus fidgets for a moment, itching at the idea of testing himself against another Jedi. The Togorian got to his feet and said something to the elder who looked warily at the off-worlders before replying something fast and then ran out of the cave, leaving the 'shaman' with those who claimed to serve a sith. "I have no desire to work with a sith, I have protected these people, my people, from slavers and the like. My master wanred me of the dark side and those who use it. My last warning, leave. Now." He growled. Ilo and Ibeth each begin to back away, but Tannus and Lydavis each stay, Lydavis still upon her knees as she looks up at the Togorian. “We have stopped slavers and pirates. We have protected those who have suffered at the hands of such rogues, who experience injustice.” Lydavis bows her head, “I will not fight you. We did not come here for that.” She looks up at the Togorian, “But please, do not continue to insult us or our mistress. She is a good woman who has saved each of our lives.” She slowly rises to her feet, “And she would help your people too if she knew of the slavers.” The Togorian looked them both and then turned off his lightsabers, but kept holding them. "I do not want to fight... and I do not want to join with a sith either. Leave." He said pointing at the exit of his cave. Tannus sighs and begins out with the rest of them, but Lydavis remains for a moment. “Do you know anything about the slavers?” "They try and take the youngest of my people and sell them to the highest bidder, that's all I need to know to stop them whenever I can." He replied warily. She frowns before nodding, “Indeed. As anyone ought to.” She looks back at the entrance before extending a hand carefully, “I am Lydavis, by the way.” He looks at the hand but remains where he was standing. "Mrarw. Now go, or I will expel you by force." “Force be with you,” she bows, “I hope we cross paths again. I would like to know you better.” As she turns to leave, Tannus stops to allow her to catch up, “Careful. If Rei was here, she might get jealous.” Lydavis tenses, “No. He's a great person who deserves our respect. He's like Azazel... Just protecting the people he cares about.” Tannus shrugs, “Fine. What's with you and the slavers?” Lydavis hesitates, “Azazel does not tolerate them. Nor will I. We're going after them.” As they exit the cave, Lydavis looks for the elder. Seeing no sight of him, she crosses her arms. “We'll go back to the city and look for some information.” At that comment, Ilo shudders. “We have to get back to the ship... Through the forest... Don't we?” Ibeth smirks, “Yes.” --- Meanwhile, the Dagda was in hyperspace on the way to the Tapani sector. Most of the crew was idle and enjoying the break from action, save for those in charge of navigating and ensuring they arrived at their destination. That is, all except for Azazel, Kitt, Xen and Rei'Ki. Azazel was busying herself, attempting to establish contact with the darksider cults and whatever other factions she could in an attempt to mine more information on this mysterious Zarra and this joke, Jehemath the Fifth, who was perhaps the greatest insult the Mecrossa Order could have sent her way. So far, though, no one had any good news. It was so bad, in fact, that one of those she contacted simply gave her a blank stare and inquired, “Zarra who?” Xen, though, was having similar luck from all he was attempting to organize in the search. That is, all but himself. Through his own means, he had successfully managed to dig up more than enough on Jehemath 5. To the point, a smug expression was over his face and he was lording it over everyone he passed. Azazel simply shakes her head, the faintest smile hinted at about her eyes. It would seem she was still right at times to have placed her faith in the Kubaz. And so it was, then, that Azazel, Rei'Ki, Kitt, Hakkri and Xen wound back up in the conference room. The Sith'ari sits, a cup of hot chocolate in her hands, waiting in the meeting room. Kitt sits nearby, staring at her whenever she felt she could get away with it. In this, she manages to notice Azazel was occasionally casting a quick glance at the comm-module. Finally, the young woman pipes up, “Azazel, will I be training today with you?” Azazel is slow to respond, taking a sip from her mug before letting out a hiss and drawing the cup away as she burns her tongue. “Azazel?” The Sith appears to snap out of it, halting in the nursing of her tongue as she looks up, “Oh. Yes, certainly. I'll be observing today as you spar with Rei'Ki. She offers a variety of skills alternate of my own as well as lesser force skills so that you might learn to combat against those. We will start small and build from there, perhaps.” Kitt nods slightly, expression showing she was perhaps a little upset. “I've been thinking...” Azazel begins to appear distracted again, blowing cool air over her mug, “Mm?” She hesitates for a moment, “Well... It's about...” The Sith looks up, boredly and a bit irate, “About?” Kitt fidgets and looks away, “About training. You want me to be capable of opposing a Jedi. Yet, I'm not sure I'll be as fast, or able to stand against much of the force-based attacks. Not without further enhancements. But I have no intentions of being like Xen or Tannus. I like my body just the way it is.” Azazel pauses before shrugging, looking into the cocoa and the swirling foam, “Tannus did not wish for much of that, and there was little other choice, but he enjoys the benefits. Xen, however, did all that of his own volition in order to assist me. I would not command someone to sacrifice their own physical form for no reason than for a minor performance improvement.” Kitt nods slowly, ready to drop the discussion. “That is not what you wished to talk of, though.” Kitt freezes, “No, it was.” “I do not like people lying to me, if you had not noticed. That is, in part why Andr—“ Azazel frowns and changes direction, “I do not appreciate it.” Hakkri nods from the doorway, “Amongst other things... Of course, who would ever act against the illustrious Azazel?” Hakkri chuckles, hobbling in with a limp and taking a seat across from Kitt. Azazel smiles faintly, “I wonder who, indeed...” She casts a dangerous look to Hakkri. Hakkri grunts and leans back into the chair, “Is it just me, or is it... Quiet and... Empty around here. Too much room?” Azazel gives a small gesture of her hand, “Yes, I suppose. The ship has had a great many expansions and it is rare for all my flock to be together at once anymore...” Hakkri gives a sad look, “No, not like that... I mean... Warmth, cozy comfort. Its like... Everyone gives me so much space now, and I feel like I am always alone.” The human woman frowns and leans over her mug, a few flickers of fire running along her fingers. “Ah, like that... Yes... I... Suppose?” Her eyes flicker up to Hakkri's and her own pained expression seems reflected on his face. “You and I need to talk about some things...” Hakkri flinches back and away, eyes wide, “Actually talk?” Kitt looks at him with a frown, “Why would she do anything otherwise?” Hakkri gives her a confused look, before looking at the scarred lines on his arm. “She had her reasons for that, though...” She swallows slightly, a little uncertain. In the Echani's mind, she pondered the idea that perhaps that was simply the dark side of the force, having drawn Azazel to a brief moment of insanity. A bitter smile slowly crosses her face as her own thoughts turn sarcastic, [i]Yes, and she was with that witch, Andrea, because she warped her mind too. Sure.[/i] Azazel waves her hand dismissively, "Yes, I do mean to genuinely talk... We could talk here if you wished, though? If it would make you feel more assured of my motives." Hakkri ponders the thought before shaking his head, "If I know you... and I think I do... either you or I would prefer if not everyone was aware." Kitt huffs and crosses her arms, "I'm not the blabber here! Anyone, especially Azazel, could trust me with anything they had to say." Hakkri gives the Echani a curious look before looking to his master, "A little fast, even for you, to replace Andrea... isn't it?" She gives him a confused look, "What are you meaning? I am partner to only Gra'tua now." Hakkri mouths a big O with a surprised look before smirking and looking at Kitt. "Poor dear. You should just change your sights now, Azzie is a tough nut to crack, but regardless of HOW SILLY SHE IS BEING, her heart of ice and stone melts only for the crazy sith bitch." He gestures over his form, "Really think she would have done all this for the Mando hunk? Oh no." He gives an amused look Azazel's way. The Sith woman sips from her hot cocoa, gaze shifting to a very scarlet crimson. Was the Zygerrian possessive of his role as friend and confidant to her? Surely. It was heart warming to see. She shrugs and sets the mug down,"I believe it is time you were off any pain killers. You are making no sense." Kitt touches her head to the table and hides her head with her arms, "yeah, that must be it. Hakkri is delirious from meds." He prepares to speak up before simply shaking his head, the womenfolk were both hopeless. "What exactly are we waiting for anyways? Xen-droid? Rei-Rei?" Azazel nods, setting a surge of heat into her drink that was getting too cold. "Yes. About the unsightly fool who speaks down to my followers." She snorts and begins to drum her fingers on the table. "Xen believes he has found some very promising information that would shed light and allow myself to make a more educated decision. Though, it is not as if it will spare him for the insult he has paid to me." Kitt looks at her with wide eyes at that declaration. Hakkri himself chuckles, "That's our Azzie... I heard a little... are you so sure he arranged Hejaran's death?" She nods, "Quite." Hakkri huffs, "Damn shame, I liked the dragon lady." Azazel arches a brow and steeples her fingers. “Indeed. Her and I held an… understanding, after all.” The Zygerrian stifles a chuckle, “Oh, right. The same one all are expected to have. Follow you, or die. Cross you, and die. Be of use to you… or die. Azzie, has anyone told you… that you have quite the brutal business plan? Perhaps we should work on that.” Pursing her lips, Azazel crosses her arms, “It is effective and efficient, though… And credits only buy someone for so long, after all. And then they start asking more of you. Just a complete headache at the end of the day, really.” “Oh, sure. But you could always try making them like you. I am sure you have some likable qualities. You know, besides being a big scary Sith,” Hakkri teases. Kitt clears her throat and nods, “So does, though.” “Shh, shh. None asked the peanut gallery, junior,” Hakkri coos. Azazel pinches the bridge of her nose and waves a hand, “No. I see little need to change my ways now.” Hakkri raises a challenging brow, shifting ever so slightly to reveal more of his scarring. “You do not say…” Azazel sticks out her lower lip and raises her nose, “Oh, keep this up and I’ll just leave you to your own devices after this meeting.” The Zygerian gasps dramatically and clasps over his heart, “Oh, sweetheart, how can you be so cruel!” She winces and lowers her gaze, falling silent, remembering the conversation with Andrea. “I wonder myself…” Kitt slips from her chair onto her knees before Azazel and grasps her hands, “You are not. Don’t listen to Hakkri.” She leers at Hakkri even as Azazel draws away from the contact. “I-- but…” Azazel shakes her head and looks back at the door as her senses tingle. “Rei’Ki? How long have you been there?” The Dathomiri shrugs and strides forward, dragging Kitt away from her master and back to her chair before taking her own seat. “Long enough to see you and Hakkri awkwardly trying to take low blows at each other. You two really should kiss and make up alright.” Hakkri’s ears lie back as he bares his fangs in a growl. Azazel looks confused for a moment before crossing her arms. “And what? Sit together watching that abominable show with [i]her[/i] in it, eating ice cream and crying together? I think not. I am above that.” Azazel sniffs and looks away indignantly. Rei’ki hesitates before her mouth spreads into a wide grin. “Yes. Exactly that. You and him. You can tell him of Aggros’ funeral arrangements and he can help you with your woman troubles. At the end of the day, as well, Xen may be your doctor, but he is no one’s friend.” Azazel leans forward, livid as she snaps, “You, say this to me, when you pursuited a relationship with one you nearly killed, who was as likely to see you dead as well?” She looks taken aback by the sudden outburst from Azazel. She hardly responded to their relationship in the past aside from a glance or two to tone it down. “That… It…” Rei’Ki narrows her eyes and leans forward, “How is that any different from you and Andrea? You have the most ridiculous love-hate relationship I have ever seen. So much to put Hakkri’s holosoap to shame.” Everyone in the room could feel Azazel channeling the force in as her anger grows. Kitt releases a soft curse at being able to tell. Her senses for such were all but useless typically. Azazel stands and fire flickers over her form as her cloak flutters. “You are still a child, Rei’Ki Avella-Lei Tallek. You and Lydavis both. You know not of what you are talking. Continue to waste your breath on such nonsense and you will find yourself running short of it.” Her eyes flicker darkly, “Do I make myself clear?” Rei’Ki gives her a defiant look before nodding, backing down. Hakkri releases a low whistle as he leans over the tabletop, closer to Kitt. In a hush-hush whisper, he murmurs to her, “See? Nothing gets to Azzie so much as her Sithy-Sweetie. You should have seen her poor, lost, love-sick gaze at the holosoaps before they were an item. Sad, really.” He looks over at Azazel before his mouth moves in an ‘O’ of understanding. “Oh, dear… She’s going to kill us all at this rate. Still have those Jedi friends? We might need a savior. I almost like my odds with them more than Miss Manic-Depressive right about now.” A lick of flame shoots by Hakkri’s head as Azazel growls, “I heard that.” “Heard what, exactly?” Hakkri offers a wry smile, easing back. Azazel crosses her arms, “I am not in some emotionally unstable state.” Hakkri jerks a thumb at some of the slagged metal of the table, “Sweetheart, I’m not saying that, your [i]actions[/i] are. Didn’t you lay down the law when one of us scuffed your precious table?” The Sith opens her mouth to speak before the fires beginning to scorch through her robes die out. “Death by chocolate,” she murmurs, drawing her arms about herself and trying to look small. Hakkri looks at Rei’Ki for help. The Dathomiri just glares and turns away. Hakkri mimes out a melodramatic sigh of exasperation before moving to Azazel’s side and wrapping her in a loose embrace. The Sith sighs and lets her forehead touch his belly. Hakkri winces, “Right, right… I’ll head to the kitchen and get the spoons. But you need to change your diet. I hear all and see all, and you shouldn’t be getting so worked up.” Kitt looks confused around the room. Rei’Ki just shrugs and waves a hand. Mouse-like, Kitt lets out a tiny cough and then murmurs when Hakkri looks her way, “I’ll get it all and bring it by, after training? Azazel promised…” Hakkri shakes his head, “No, no. She will not be participating… Rei’Ki can, though. We’ll go as a happy little group, I suppose…. You know, without Mr. Grumplestiltzkin.” Kitt blushes and nods and the room falls silent. It stays like that, quiet and strained until Xen walks in, tapping at a datapad and speaking into his integrated comm-set. Numbers, figures and data was streaming over his visual database and blocking out most of his sensory feed, leaving him nigh blind as he stumbles into the room. He grunts and feels his way through the doorway, confused by the open door before murmuring aloud, “Right, Azazel, you’ve been slacking on your exams. It is important--” he goes silent before chattering something in an alien tongue. “--Important for your health and safety and--” He freezes and murmurs a stream of commands in yet another a language before killing the audio and voice feeds. “And the child. I’ve told you time and time again. Trust me, trust Ibeth, and even those force brats of yours. But--” as he kills his data stream, the room comes into focus and he can see everyone looking at him in confusion. Azazel has her jaw dropped open in shock at his slip. Hakkri places his face in his palm. Rei’Ki releases a low whistle and murmurs, “So that is why she’s a wreck…” And Kitt looks at her with wide eyes and just a bit of dismay. Xen coughs and adjusts his coat, moving his datapad over to the holographic display. With a flick of his hands, the information begins to stream over. Most of it seemed like needless bits. A display of his appearance, his childhood homes, dead relatives, including the face of Braghda, but eventually, it stops upon a symbol of the Mecrossa Order. “Right, enough gawking over nothing--” Rei’Ki snorts in response to him calling that slip nothing-- “Here is what I have found out…” Clearing his throat, he begins: “Lord Jehemath the Fifth, nephew of Lady Braghda. To the public he is just another spoiled and too wealthy noble of the Tapani Sector who indulges himself on every turn and who has a reputation of preferring women who are already married to other nobles. The one time one such cuckolded noble spoke out and demanded satisfaction, turned up dead a day later. He had been in several deals these last few years and actually was nearing financial bankruptcy as some of his business ventures were a bit, shall we say, foolish to even spend money on. Then his aunt died and he was somehow the sole heir, inheriting her entire fortune. “What Xen discovers behind the scenes is that Jehemath has been part of the Mecrossa Order since his youth and mostly handled and governed over a handful of operatives, such as Zarra, sending them out to eliminate threats to the order and find relics and knowledge that are worthwhile to them. It seemed his aunt Braghda was sometimes displeased with his work and has on multiple occasions been forced to intervene. Ever since he assumed his aunts position in the order there have been reports of operatives wishing to be transferred to others in the order. But at the same time Jehemath is somehow able to recover certain artefacts deemed lost which forces his superiors to not have him replaced just yet.” Azazel nods slowly, leaning in over the table and tapping a feed to draw it back to an image of the one called Zarra. “This woman, I believe to have killed Braghda. I’m sure he set it up. Ironic, that she did not have a tighter reign on her hitman nor properly ensured his comfortable living. It does seem she may have brought some of this upon herself. If she had just kept him satiated… Though, from the sounds of it, he is quite the disgusting man… Useful… But disgusting.” Xen nods slowly, tapping the blank datapad against his arm, “Truthfully, if a Order like this sees use in him… Even with these reports… He must have some great capability. Yet, he is hardly leadership material. If he remains in power, while it may be beneficial in the short term… I feel he would be capable of singlehandedly driving the faction to the void.” Rei’Ki crosses her arms, “Who cares. He’s treacherous. And an ass. I’d sooner see him dead.” Kitt furrows her brow, “Why not remove him from the position, but employ him otherwise?” Rei’Ki flicks her lightsabre out, the one she had taken from Azazel’s stores to replace her own. “Because. He insulted. Lydz.” Kitt rolls her eyes, “Personal child stuff. If he has his uses, remove the damaging aspects… and employ him in a direction beneficial to [i]us[/i]. If we kill every individual to speak out, be rude or be just the slightest insubordinate, there would not be much of the Galaxy left.” Azazel appears as if to weigh the options in her hands, “We will see, perhaps… Xen, thank you.” The Dark Lady begins to stand, but starts to lose her balance. The unsteady Hakkri reaches out and loops an arm about her before whistling and nodding for Kitt to come over. The Echani rushes forth and slips beneath Azazel’s other side. “I am fine. Let me go,” Azazel whines. Hakkri purrs and nuzzles her cheek like a kitten, “Nope. You’re just too warm and sweet and wonderful, Azzie. And Kitt looks happy right where she is.” Azazel glances at the fair-haired woman with an arched brow only to get an averted gaze. “Training?” Azazel nods. --- Kitt pants, having fallen to her knees as the electricity of the practice whip surges through her body. Hakkri looks sympathetic and draws the weapon off of her, taking note of the singed flesh along her forearm. “Look, if this was the real deal, you’d be looking an awful lot like Tannus. Maybe we should take a break?” Kitt shakes her head, weakly climbing back to her feet and adjusting the impromptu guards taped over her forearms. “N-no. I have to keep trying. Keep pushing. I’ll show you up one of these days.” Hakkri hardly waits for her to finish, instead, flicking the whip towards her face. She catches the incoming weapon within a taped hand and yanks it aside, sending Hakkri following after and towards her as she knocks a fist into his abdomen. Hakkri whimpers and releases the practice weapon, hand moving to his belly and feeling over it. “Medic! Medic help! I need an ice pack!” he cries out in a silly manner, trying to lay it on thick. Rei’Ki rolls her eyes and draws out a practice physical blade and tossing the padded plastic-plate bracers and gloves to Kitt. Kitt looks at her in confusion, “This isn’t anti-force fighting…” “Focus on just one, you’ll be dead. Azazel will be getting you something, a Mandalorian equipment of sorts… And it will enable you to do much more than stop a lightsabre. And we do not always go against simple foes as that. If I had my way… You would have your melee and ranged training. A blaster of some sort or another. Imagine, you are so far out, your shield is barely holding and you cannot close the gap. Myself? I could use my force speed if necessary. But you? You will need to kill things from afar… Hakkri here supplements his own inexperience with firepower, afterall.” Hakkri shrugs, “All true, but I hear I overcompensate for something as well.” Rei’Ki snorts, “I hear it let you take down the Terentatek?” Kitt shudders at the memory… and feels ashamed at how she herself had run crying for Azazel. Hakkri just shrugs, “I think it may have been the weakest of the bunch… Clumsy and not the brightest.” “Whatever, you still killed it.” Rei’Ki readies the blunted blade in an offensive position and waits for Kitt to fix her practice armour, “Still, you will improve. We all have. now… Begin!” --- Azazel lays back, sprawled upon her bed and staring up at the screen in confusion. “A child’s show?” Hakkri shrugs, a spoon of ice cream in his mouth. Muffled by the object in his mouth, he mumbles “Yeaw, itsh okawh. Fawnny.” A song begins to play in offkey voices as animated characters start to move over the screen. Azazel blinks and points at a small weird creature with a cat face, “What is that even?” Kitt blushes and watches it with obvious interest, “Its Laike. She’s a… Well, its something weird in the show. None of this is based on things in the real Galaxy, though.” Hakkri gives her a curious look, “You’ve actually watched this.” She coughs and shrugs. “It was on when I was smaller, before…” she drifts off before stealing the ice cream bucket and taking a big mouthful. One that she instantly regrets as she experiences brain freeze. Azazel blinks, “I see. I suppose it is a change. We will see how good it is… But I am not impressed so far.” “Just wait. It gets worse,” Hakkri chuckles. “It does not!” Kitt whines, poking the Zygerrian. “Ohhh yes it does. You just have childhood nostalgia to help you through it… Speaking of… Aren’t you a little yoouuuung to be here with the big girls?” Kitt glares and brandishes her spoon threatening, “I am an adult and you know it.” “Do I?... Are you? I can’t tell. All toddlers look the same to me.” Azazel rolls her eyes and watches the scene unfold above from the projector. “She is old enough to be under my instruction. What does it matter?” Hakkri smirks and leans in, “Cuz, sweetheart… If Andrea were to walk in, it might be the difference between her getting jealous or just assuming you are being motherly.” Azazel furrows her brow, “But Andrea will not be walking in. Ever again.” Kitt seems to perk up upon hearing that, staring down upon the Dark Lady as a small smile passes over her lips. Hakkri gives her a warning look before softly tracing through Azazel’s hair. “Just illustrating my point, Azzie. Don’t you fret.” A small smirk passes over his lips as he imagines protocols he could get some of Xen-Droid’s PROXYs to run in order to pay Azazel back for things of late. The entire debacle with Andrea certainly opened a menagerie of ways to make her suffer, even if she was so much stronger.