All is Quiet in Wild Space

[Yasindra Quorr]

With a much quieter hum, her own ship started its engine, and slowly started to hover above the ground, a good distance out of the way from the various creatures that would surely be below her soon. Sitting back in her chair, she grinned widely, with Geoffrey at her side.

"Oh, Geoffrey ... What fun we had in that little time, hm? I sure do hope she doesn't think I'd actually upgrade her things. No no no, she doesn't deserve that. Besides .. not enough time! Well .. for that to be significant, at least," she mused to her little drone, who only seemed to nod in approval. Geoffrey always did approve with her. She programmed him so, after all.

It wouldn't be until Nyla leaves orbit that Yasindra's machinations would come to play, as a little holo-recorder would start playing, planted near the driver's seat, showing the soundwave of the oh-so-pleasant voice to come.

"I decided, in my limited time, to record this little message for you, dear," the device would say, a recording of Yasindra's voice. If anything, it was a gift, as the device was likely the finest tech in the ship right now. "Among the various changes I've made, I've also added a few ... hm, how should I say it ... things to keep you busy? Yes, that's a good way of saying it. You see ... I went through your entire ship, and placed a few ... devices here and there. I suppose brigands like you would call them bombs. You had better find them, dear, or you'll find yourself floating amidst the stars very soon, I'm afraid. Why, I wish you good luck! You've got thirty minutes, and five to find."

A gentle laugh would fill the luxurious yacht as it drifted across the planet, slowly entering orbit far from where Nyla would've. In truth, she didn't do much at all in Nyla's ship. She made sure the gate, the weapons, and the engine would have remote-controlled killswitches, operated from a single button in her hand. Whether the device would work when they next encounter eachother, however, was up to debate. Hyperdrives and whatever Nyla would do to the ship could always bring a bit of turmoil to that plan, and she knew that. Still ... you can't be too sure. But to think she, the great technophile Yasindra, would waste resources on a garbage truck like that, let alone someone who wished to harm her? Ridiculous ...

Her laughed died down slowly to a chuckle, as she reminded herself of the message she planted. "I wonder if she'll fall for it. Oh, I'm such a joker, aren't I, Geoffrey?"

And the droid nodded in approval.

 

[Boethiah]

Boethiah managed to find an empty room with a bed of sorts, the young witch wandering over to it and taking a seat. She was unaware of the little message playing, or even the whereabouts of Nyla. All that mattered was now she could go home to see her mother; [member="Loxa Visl"]. Dantooine wasn't exactly the most interesting journey, but the crystal Boethiah held in her hands only began to inspire curiosity. What did it do? She wondered. Her attention was stolen for a moment.

The buzzing of the ship managed to distract the girl, her heterochromatic eyes glancing about from the walls to the ceiling, noticing the precise nature of how it was all constructed. Shortly after she brought her legs up and laid down upon the somewhat uncomfortable mattress, resting her head against the pillow. Even now she was beginning to feel tired after a long day, and perhaps her particular excursions of the force had managed to drain her stamina more quickly than usual.

 

[Nyla Crow]

Nyla screamed.

It was a particularly loud, angry scream; more than likely loud enough to stir Boethiah from her slumber, if nothing else. She turned the scanners on her ship to scan inwards, and set them to look for any explosive substances. Five minutes, the computer stated. She cursed, and smacked her hand against the dashboard. The Automatic Warning System politely requested that she not assault the vessel. She cursed again, and reminded herself to take that out at some point.

It was five minutes later that Nyla let out another scream, not because the recording was right, that there were bombs in her ship; but because there weren't. Not a single hint of explosive material was found in The Crow's Beak, save the spare gas chambers for her blaster pistol. She had been tricked. Tricked by a fool, and she was a fool, thought Nyla, if she thought she was going to get away with this. She knew her face, she knew her ship, and she knew her voice. A name? A Name would be easy to find. And once she did...

She let fantasies of vengeance linger in her mind for a moment before lifting off into orbit herself, and setting hyperdrive coordinates for near Wayland. Estimated Trip Time: One Standard Week. A decent amount of time to get to know her new shipmate. Or be killed by her. That was a possibility.

 

[Boethiah]

Boethiah -- oddly enough -- slept peacefully despite the screaming. Perhaps suggesting she spent most of her time in a very noisy environment. Nonetheless, she rested long and well until she awoke, unfortunately when with the stars, artificial light did very little as to offer any signs of what time it was. Her internal clock was screwed up, and it affected her somewhat. She felt stressed, and even unhappy. Of course that didn't mean she'd express this to Nyla, who she practically forgot existed.

Wandering the ship, Boethiah explored the sights as best she could. Curiosity gaining the better of her in this regard. "Is it safe?" She asked herself quietly, still caught up in the wonderment; or at least as little of it there was. Realizing that there was only thin sheets of metal between you and certain death did not inspire safety for non-spacers, but the concept of such a threat did not reflect on Boethiah in the same way it might others. She was more fascinated by the prospect than anything.

 

[Nyla Crow]

Nyla wasn't happy, right now. That was becoming a bit of a recurring theme.

But things were getting better, admittedly. She had an objective, a mission to complete. Accompany Boethiah to her 'Mother,' although whether that Mother be literal or religious, Nyla wasn't quite sure. Either way, it didn't matter. Boethiah had power, and anyone she held in high regard was likely to have even more of it. She stared out of the cockpit glass and smiled as she saw the familiar sight of hyperspace, before removing herself from the seat. It was going to be a long week, if she didn't have someone to talk to. And she'd had enough of silence, for the time being.

Eventually, she found the spot where Boethiah had decided to rest, and approached her. She wore a smile, and it was genuine, although to anyone who knew her very well, it wouldn't exactly look right on her. "So...what's your name, then? Mine is Nyla Crow." She bowed her head, but kept her hand on her blaster, although there was not - at the moment - any hostile intent behind the gesture. Simply wariness, and precaution.

 

[Boethiah]

Boethiah looked over to Nyla, remaining silent at first as her thoughts came together. "Boethiah," she answered after some deliberation, nodding firmly to herself as if agreeing that she made the right decision. Her eyes remained on Nyla, and by all she could see, Boethiah was unarmed. That likely meant very little, though, considering her use of the force earlier that day. Asking no questions herself, Boethiah remained silent and observed the Sith standing before her without any distraction.

She didn't even blink--like they were having a staring contest. She kept her hands in her lap, palms up, cradling the crystal which continued to glow faintly; radiating the force. That which it radiated was similar to the more chaotic radiance of her own power. Yet it was far more mature, being comparable to a force master's signature in that regard.

 

[Nyla Crow]

"Boethiah, then. Lovely to meet you," she stated, keeping her attention focused on the girl for as long as she could. Sooner rather than later, though, her focus was drawn to the crystal within her companion's hands.

"That...is immensely powerful," she began, as she drew her lightfoil. She did not ignite it, though, but instead twisted the guard on the hilt, and removed the crystal from it - a blackwing crystal. "And immensely familiar." It radiated a weak aura of Dark Side energy, comparable to a fraction of a padawan's aura. She smiled at it, and slotted it back in, sealing the hilt of her lightfoil once more. "Beautiful things, those are. Although...I don't think I've ever even heard of a saber blade that color. It's rather unique."

 

[Boethiah]

The crystal itself looked as if it were once pure white, but if perhaps blood mixed with grapefruit juice and stained its exterior. Whether or not it was a colour crystal, or something else, was far beyond the understanding of Boethiah who only took it because it called to her. "I like it," was all she said in response. She blinked a few times, examining the lightfoil. "I saw a man with that once. He carried at at his waist." She then glanced upwards, returning her vision to Nyla's visage.

Cupping her hand back over the crystal, she allowed her legs to dangle off of the edge of the somewhat highly elevated bed, crossing her ankles over one another and swinging them lightly. She forewent saying anything else, merely staring at the woman before her again.

 

[Nyla Crow]

She chuckled and pointed the lightfoil down, before igniting it, to demonstrate. The hilt was thin, fragile looking, and petite, and the blade it produced matched that description. It was about two feet in length, a smoky ash-black in color, and had a weak, dull glow to it. She let her hand fall, and dragged the tip of the blade across the ground - it did nothing except lightly scar the floor beneath them. Nyla, while disappointed, did not appear surprised. She turned the imitation saber off, and stuck it back at its place on her belt.

"I imagine his was much more impressive than mine." She said with a chuckle. Upon noticing the fact that Boethiah was simply staring at her, she leaned against the wall beside her, and crossed her arms. She waited a moment, to see if Boethiah actually said anything else, before speaking up herself. "You thinking of something to say, or am I just that attractive?" The words came out laced with a chuckle, and were said in a way that most people could tell she was simply making a joke, albeit a particularly bad one.

 

[Boethiah]

Boethiah watched the blade intently as it was activated, her eyes following its movements as the woman demonstrated for her. After the blade deactivated, her eyes once more had returned to the face of Nylah who began to speak once more. Confused by her jest, Boethiah provided a puzzled look, her eyes squinting slightly. "His blade was blue, yours is different." She pointed out. Ever since what happened, she lacked the conversational skills that were normal for someone of her age.

Although slavery didn't prove to make one socially adept regardless. Only that dealing with her nature was difficult, the coping trying on both mind and body. Again, she said little else during the conversation. Finally her eyes drifted away from the woman, and looked towards the fresh scar across the floor. "Imagine what that might do to someone. I have dreams about it sometimes, but they're not my own..." A subtle frown began to take over.

 

[Nyla Crow]

"I've seen what it can do to a person. Beautiful, if you like that sort of thing. Undeniably powerful, whatever else you might describe it as. Mine is...less impressive, though, than a real one. Real ones - proper ones - I've heard, can carve their way through blast doors, hack off limbs with a flick of the wrist..." She offered a shrug and a smirk, and slid her jacket off, tossing it on the nearby coat rack. "I'm looking to get one myself, some day. A lightsaber. A proper weapon for a Lady of the Sith." She said the last three words whilst performing an intentionally exaggerated flourish, but gave no indication that she was jesting about her goals.

"Wait. What do you mean, dreams that aren't your own?" She frowned ever so slightly in confusion, and crossed her arms again. She wasn't expecting an answer, though; it was more likely that the girl was going to ignore her again, or get distracted. Regardless of what happened, after the girl's explanation or continued silence, Nyla would return to the pilot's seat, and reset course for Bandomeer - she was running low on fuel, and last she heard, an old supplier for her former gang was there...


[member="Qrgyl Ud"]

 

[Boethiah]

Before the ship drifted off to an orbiting refueling station above Bandomeer, it seemed Nyla had finally predicted Boethiah's reaction. She said nothing. In fact, she instead laid back down, and turned, facing the direction opposite of Nyla. Gravity holding her hair down towards the mattress.

If Nyla hadn't figured it out yet, she wasn't much of a talker--and by all current accounts, she didn't seem to care much about where Nyla remained. As she was more than happy to lay down and turn her back with another in the room.

The ship would make its way, and over the next few days it that it took to reach their destination, it was unlikely that Boethiah provided anything less than a few statements and some odd behavior. Which again, based on recent events, would likely prove less surprisingly than it had before.

 

[Nyla Crow]

Over the four day trip to Bandomeer, Nyla did...not much. She checked in on Boethiah daily to make sure that she was remaining healthy, but for the most part, left her to herself as she liked it.

In the mean time, Nyla meditated. Over the four days, she spent most of her time - all of the time not spent eating, drinking, doing maintenance on the ship, or checking on Boethiah - alone in her chambers, thinking, and reaching out to the Force. She gained power through emotion, that much she knew - rage was key to her ability to strike Fear into people. But what of other emotions? Fear, envy, greed, pride, ambition...she would have to experiment, given the opportunity. For now, she settled on practicing her telepathy, sending short bursts of harmless emotion - the equivalent of poking someone on the shoulder - to Boethiah.

That was another thing that she thought quite a lot about. Since the trip began, she'd slowly been growing more comfortable around her companion. To the average person, that might not seem that strange, but then, the average person didn't have to deal with Boethiah. She was silent, flighty, and inhuman in her demeanor. Nyla had every right to be disturbed by her, but instead she simply felt...neutral. On the third day, shortly before she retired to sleep, she came to a few conclusions.

The First was that Boethiah was manipulating her mind, and doing so subtly enough that she didn't notice.
The Second was that, given her current lack of experience, she probably couldn't do anything about it.
The Third and final conclusion she came to was that she really, really wanted to learn how to do that, too.