Acoustic Fields

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Leena Mai"]

It would take them a while to actually get to their destination, that was the biggest problem most movies had, they immediately cut to the action scenes, to the explosions and big bangs, to the drama of the moment. But life wasn’t that way, no matter how much Irani loved to make his life more exciting some things he couldn’t actually change, things like traveling time and travel expenses.

Sadly he wasn’t like Ovmar who could simply fold space around himself and a transporter of choice, literally appearing wherever and whenever he wanted to appear. Perhaps he needed to make some inquiries about that particular development of skills though, it seemed pretty handy to simply being able to teleport himself anywhere he might have a need to go.

Maybe the Aing-Tii could be persuaded to teach their ways.

Or maybe his library might hold some kind of explanation to these sort of things, it was in moments like these that he truly appreciated Ovmar’s old hoarding habits and his own hoarding habits, of course.

This would need further inquir- Irani’s eye was caught by the white-clenched knuckles of his assistant, who was apparently trying to tear her combat pants apart. It seemed that the nerves were finally getting to her.

A low long sigh escaped his lips as a huge hand silently and softly patted her little hand, trying to give her some support.

‘Miss Mai, have I ever lied to you?’ the Sith Lord would ask.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Her worries slowly began to trescend, shifting from the cannibals that one might see in the movies to actual, real life cannibals. What drives somebody to that? What makes you look at your own species and say, 'You know? I'd really like to kill and eat you.' Like are you just born that way? Or do you develop the taste for it?

Some people like bantha steaks, some people like gizka nuggets and others prefer a roast joint of human leg.

What a thought.

Of course, that wasn't to say that the concept of suicide worship didn't evade her increasingly concerned mind. Who was committing the suicides? The cultists? Or their victims? Surely not the cultists, no, otherwise there would be nobody to get rid of.

Oh, but what if it all went wrong?

Leena could picture it clearly. They'd put the noose around her neck and make her jump, not the truest sense of the word suicide but extremists don't deal in sense. Besides, the meat needed to be hung before it was eat-

His hand derailed the personal assistant's train of thought, probably a blessing, and posed a question.

“Not that I know of, My Lord,” she replied after a brief pause to think, casting her eyes downwards to stare at his offered hand of comfort.

---

[member="Darell Irani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Leena Mai"]

‘Keep that in mind when I tell you that you will be fine.’ Irani smoothly replied, before taking back his hand from hers, just in time for it to be right on the edge of propriety. It was a talent that one needed to develop, reading the finer lines and acting on them accordingly. Irani did not know if the words would help her, honestly the only real thing that would help was time and experience, the first mission was always the most difficult one.

She would probably feth up, but they all do on the first mission.

In many ways it was a right of passage, to kark up so majorly that any future kark ups would pale in comparison. Just the way of things and would allow them to say: “Well… at least it ain’t no Pakuuni, amiright?”

And with that it would all be good again.

So Darell leaned back against his seat, one of his legs crossed against the other and closed his eyes, to grab some shuteye before the actual mission would begin. They would still need to travel there, which would be about one to two hours, gotta use the time as efficiently as possible.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

The woman nodded.

Naturally she was still terrified. Of course she was, how could she not be? What kind of person could just progress from drinks with the girls to cannibal cults without being phased by it? No living person that was stationed in reality, surely.

Maybe a crap character in a one credit holonovel. Bargain bin.

Not Leena Mai. No, she was just a woman. Last year she was worried about the strains of student debt, concerned about rejected applications from McYoda's, simple pedestrian stuff. Being rattled by suicide cults that eat people? That's not weak, that's just natural progression. Although, come to think of it, she hadn't paid off her student debt either.

On the bright side, she wouldn't need to if she was dead, or eaten.

Unable to switch off and sleep like her employer, Leena chose to waste time the old fashioned way. By thinking, fidgeting and staring aimlessly out the viewport of the transport.

Would she kill somebody today?

Palpatine's pecker! That was an entirely new kettle of fish just opened up within her head. Could Leena Mai kill a person? Even if they were completely despicable? The personal assistant could definitely scald another being but kill? Such a notion was almost unthinkable!

Unholstering the blaster that she had been given alongside her new bottom complimenting threads the woman sat the weapon upon her lap and stared at intently.

Was this real?

Minutes started to drift away, giving into her relentless sea of thoughts and questions. Hey, it was one way to pass the time, right?

---

[member="Darell Irani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Leena Mai"]

Irani wasn’t really there to soothe her worries, at least he wouldn’t have been if she would just let him sleep just a little bit. But that was the inherent problem with being a mentalist, they were unnaturally attuned towards the thoughts and feelings of other people, case in point were the feelings of one Leena Mai who was currently sitting rather closely to the Sith Lord.

One eye opened itself and settled down on Leena and rolled itself at the sheer display of nerves and worries balling up inside of her, he mumbled a short incantation. Nothing too worrying, of course, this was Mai they were talking about.

Last thing he wanted was to hurt her.

But she would suddenly feel increasingly tired, eyes growing heavy and yawns coming up. Sleep would come to her within a few moments. He was pretty sure she would be a bit suspicious when she would wake up and notice that the trip was over already.

One problem at a time.

With her sleeping he finally closed his eyes again and tried to force himself into sleeping, but for some reason it wouldn’t come to him now. Maybe it was the usage of the Darkside that had made him a bit on edge, perhaps there was some tension in the air or maybe his mentalist pings were rocking off and disallowing him to sleep.

Point was.

He wouldn’t be sleeping for the remainder of the trip.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Just like it said on the tin.

The feeling of fatigue came on so quickly, it almost caught the woman by surprise. It came on first with a yawn, and was followed up by tired eyes that had to squint, eyelids feeling like they were weighted. So many nights out had been dashed by the onslaught of the sleep. Like when you went to the toilet and found yourself having a quick cubicle nap.

Taxi for Miss Leena Mai!

Another yawn came and went, this time making those blue eyes water as the personal assistant was primed to cry. Oh Force, bed sounded like such an attractive prospect to her in that single moment, even Darell Irani looking seemingly so comfortable next to her. It was like in the cartoons, where the hungry animated cat would see the mouse as a walking rack of bantha ribs. He was like a man-shaped pillow in her eyes.

Could she?

Perhaps it was the very sudden need to sleep that influenced her decision. Perhaps the air conditioning in the transport wasn't high enough. Or perhaps it was the half-shameless side of the woman that encouraged her to gently rest her head upon Darell Irani's shoulder.

As soon as those eyes were shut she was gone, away to a land of extremely peaceful slumber, where no nightmares of cannibals could get her.

---

[member="Darell Irani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Leena Mai"]

It might have been the first time in a long while that the Irani found himself frozen up and not knowing what to do, the reason behind this was fairly simple really, just had to think about it a little bit. In general Darell Irani, otherwise known as Darth Carach, was a man of might and power, nations bend to his will and most enemies of his did not live long enough to earn and keep that specific noun.

This was not to say that he did not hold any experience in the romance-cloud, he had too much of Ovmar in him not to be at least a self-professed expert on women and what they desired. But that was the entire thing, his experience in such matters began and ended with just that.

Desire.

Passion running high, but there was never soft and tenderness involved. No women leaning into his touch just to rest, sleep and recharge. Irani coughed softly, he really didn’t know what to do in a situation such as this one.

In the end though, Darell just leaned back against the durasteel wall, felt the cold spread into his limbs and settled in for a long, long drive. This was really not how he had been expecting this mission to start out.

 

[Beatrice Govan]

A noted benefit of such inflicted sleep was that there were no dreams.

In definition it was the ideal sleep, with no subconscious thoughts in the brain worming through to craft dreams or even nightmares. It was pure unfiltered rest, the kind that comes after the longest of days, where with beaten feet your head hits the pillow and just like that, you're gone.

It was strange how in sleep one could find true comfort in nothing but the blackness, when in the real world it was so often the ultimate fear.

Is this what it's like to be dead?

For the entire journey she slept, blissfully unaware of the slight emotional conundrum that she was inflicting upon her employer. Thankfully for him, Leena had fallen into her slumber with her mouth closed, which meant there was no patches of drool to stain his suave suit (although it was probably slobber-proof).

By chance, or perhaps with subtle mental prodding the personal assistant found herself slowly being pulled back into the world of consciousness, eyes fluttering awake as for those first few moments she didn't realise that she had used her boss as a pillow.

“...mm...”

Then it hit.

“Oh, OH!….oh, gosh! I'm sorry! I just...I just fell asleep!”

Hadn't drooled though, five points to Leena Mai.

It was then that she noticed that the transporter was now stationary. Oh dear, had she slept through the entire journey? Was that rude? Did he sleep through it all? Was he bothered by her resting her head on him? Just say words, girl, alleviate your tiny personal stresses.

“Wait, are we...here?”

---

[member="Darell Irani"]

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Leena Mai"]

‘Depends on whatcha mean with here, darling.’ the words ran out of his mouth, before he even knew what had happened. Ya know, that was the biggest problem of being him probably, the many shards that had made up his own persona managed to pop up every now and again, mostly when he didn’t have all that much concentration left.

Irani hadn’t been able to sleep for the next four hours, instead being forced into an awkward sitting position to support the sleeping beauty next to him. Which was remarkably alright with him after the first twenty minutes of awkwardness.

Focus.

As she detached herself from him Darell stood up and stretched a little bit, muscles working back into active mode, blood starting to circulate again, bones giving out little screeching sounds of ‘no, please, don’t do that.’

Felt gooooood.

‘How ya sleep?’

He scratched his chin, and his eyes wandered across the many a gun that was currently station against the wall. What would he be using today?

 

[Beatrice Govan]

Darling.

That was new.

Not that Leena Mai was so opposed to such small notions of familiarity but still, it was new. Of course, the woman wouldn't dream of affixing such pet names to Darell Irani, no no no, not unless she was about six cocktails down and in the realm of dubious social decisions.

Still sitting, the woman rubbed the sleep from her eyes, stretching out her legs completely (although avoiding tripping her employer up at the same time). There was a mild crick in her neck, one that accompanied the fact that she had slept with her head on another's shoulders.

Neck rub would be great, thanks for asking.

Thankfully (or maybe not) she kept that thought to herself and instead responded with a small nod, “Surprisingly well, circumstances given, My Lord.”

Slowly rubbing the base of her own neck she watched Irani as he examined the impressive looking arsenal affixed to the wall. Of course, not being a creature completely focused on self, she wondered how he managed to sleep, if he managed to sleep at all. Leena couldn't imagine it was so easy given that there was a woman on his shoulder. She shifted from wondering and decided to just ask.

“Did you manage to get any sleep, My Lord?”

---

[member="Darell Irani"]