Private Profits and a Padawan

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

The sun rose above the sky of Naboo, casting a golden tint over the landscape outside of Shiraya's Sanctuary, nestled in the Gallo Mountains. Lysander was already on the verge of completing another rigorous training session, much earlier than usual.

Today, his thoughts were consumed by more than just the usual drills and meditation; they were occupied by someone he’d met at a bazaar last month. Following a recent morning where the entire class was interrupted and full of drama, he finally reached out to Danger. Planning a visit had been successful.

By mid morning, the teen was making his way towards the capital city. He was adorned in warm winter clothes that were in cream and beige, but the lightsaber hilt was still visible on his belt. The snug and luxurious fabric complemented his youthful features, which now had a brighter sheen; perhaps, it was the result of his daily meticulous routine and a touch of bantha tallow. Skipping the robes that were a big part of Jedi culture and practice was intentional. Today, he simply entertained the idea of trying to be his authentic self, away from the critique that so often shadowed him.

The Padawan had devoured every map and every bit of information he could find on his new home, which now made navigating through the streets of Theed much easier. Vendors called out, selling their products, and he could hear children laughing while playing near the Royal Palace as he prepared to step into the spaceport.

He scanned every corner, every terminal, searching for any hint of her ship. The air was full of the hum of engines and the conversations of travelers. And then, in the distance, he finally caught sight of it. A deep breath grounded him while deciding to approach her head on.

There was a curl along Lysander's lips as he then extended a box; the colorful wrapping around it was uneven, as if done by a child. "Welcome to Naboo, Ms. Dangeruese. It's good to see you again. And I know it's a little late," he drawled, "but.. I didn’t want Life Day to pass without giving you something. It’s also a tradition back home on Ukatis." Emerald orbs carried a mischievous glint as he took another breath. "Just remember, the one rule is to never ask where it came from!”

Their first encounter left a big impact on him, something he rarely experienced. The gift was also to show appreciation for potentially being able to learn more from her.

Within would be a local handwoven shawl, carrying the earthy hues of Naboo, an item he'd found during a recent visit to Dee'ja Peak. And next to it, was the extended barrel version of an ELG-3A blaster pistol. But perhaps the most intriguing item was the handwritten note that was folded. It read:

A handy tool to keep the nerf flies away while looking cool.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

At least it wasn't Hoth.

That was the singular thought as Danger descended the ramp of her luxury yacht with her trademark slow, rolling stride. Born and raised on the scorching heat of the Twin Suns, the Queen of Trade disliked being in any world with a wintery scene or a temperature that would require her to dress in layers. As it was, she was dressed in a thick but becoming navy blue outfit, with a dark grey coat that modestly hugged her full curves but enhanced the vibrant color of her auburn hair. With each slow, deliberate step, her full hips swayed just so, following the gentle tap of her polished boots against the landing pad.

Queen of Trade's sharp green eyes sparkled with amusement as she caught sight of Lysander von Ascania waiting ahead. He wasn't hard to miss -- tall, blond, and draped in elegant clothing, though Danger couldn't help but notice the lightsaber on his hip. That bit of rebellion against the traditional Jedi weapon was a note she silently filed away, her lips curling into a wry smile.

Danger gave Lysander his due when he approached her with his youthful eagerness, doubling down when he offered her greetings and a wrapped Life Day present. Her brows rose slightly, and a throaty chuckle slipped past her lips.

"Well, Miztah von Ascania," she drawled, accepting the gift with a practiced elegance, "you certainly outdid yourself with flatterin' a lady. I am mighty grateful for the gift." Her voice was edged with the subtle amusement of someone who had seen more than her fair share of bold gestures.

Her gaze lingered on the box as she unwrapped it with careful precision, her manicured nails never once threatening the integrity of the paper. The handwoven shawl drew a soft, appreciative hum from her. Yet it was the extended barrel ELG-3A blaster pistol that truly earned another throaty laugh. Danger turned it over in her hands, inspecting its craftsmanship with an approving nod.

"Now this is somethin' else," she said, her smile growing. "A useful tool and a fashion statement, just my style." She glanced back at Lysander, her eyes twinkling with mirth. "Though I reckon I'll take your advice and not ask where it came from....I'd say I've done my fair share of tellin' folk the same a time or two."

Sliding the handwritten note free, she unfolded it and read, her smile deepening at his humor. Folding it back neatly, she tucked it into her pocket.

Her gaze returned to the young man, and she let her amusement settle into something a touch more serious, her voice dipping lower as she added, "Seems you've got yourself a knack for makin' an impression and a clever one at that. Now, let's see what else you've got to offer. Business and good ideas don't wait on nobody, Miztah von Ascania."

And with that, she gestured for him to walk alongside her, the Queen of Trade keen to see if this young noble had more than charm and a good eye for gifts to his name.

"So, what do you have in mind?"

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

Lysander's heart began to race while maintaining a respectful distance. Inside, a mix of emotions churned– admiration, anxiety, and a rare flicker of fear of rejection. Still, he watched the woman with childlike curiosity, though he tried to carefully contain it behind a more mature facade, ready to catch every nuance of her reaction.

But then, as she spoke, he nearly chuckled; he had tried, perhaps a bit too intently lately, to mimic her accent in the company of friends and his sister. It was simply different, like a melody that he was intrigued by.

With a genuine smile playing on his lips, the Padawan tilted his head slightly. While generally quick to dissect words, hers felt like they were simply hanging in the air. He just hoped the gesture was recognized as sincere, rather than expecting reciprocation.

Inhaling a deep breath, he allowed confidence to flow back into his demeanor. “Your acceptance is the best gift in return. And I was thinking more along the lines of luxurious yet practical.” He then met her gaze while reflecting on the blaster pistol. “Some stories are best left untold, huh?"

A sudden rush of determination surged through his veins as he quickly fell into step beside her. During the first several steps, he was reminding himself to not waste this opportunity provided. Impressing people was as natural as breathing for Lysander, but now he was ready to propose something much more thoughtful. The Padawan’s expression became more serious, trying to awaken the intellect he rarely got to display.

"You know," he began, his voice steady. "I’ve been thinking about how we can use some of the areas beneath Naboo’s waters. I learned that the Gungans have wonderful techniques for aquatic farming. It's been passed down through generations. Imagine using this knowledge to grow more nutritious food! It could really advance our agriculture here and provide nutrition to the people of Theed, and even beyond."

He took a second to gauge her reaction before continuing. "With your connections and expertise, perhaps we could coordinate with the Gungans to implement these practices and introduce these crops to local markets, since they tend to only support their own communities. And I'm positive there are ways to expand trade outside of Naboo too."

It was a rare feeling, but Lysander almost felt insignificant in all of this, his only offering being a mere idea amidst the time she devoted to coming here. He thought back on part of their first encounter. "And with me present, you'll have nothing to worry about. I've got your back. Not even a womp rat would come near you. Plus, I'll be sure you make it to Otoh Gunga and back without a single hair out of place!"

His smiled widened as they stepped out from the spaceport and into the street. He gestured to a nearby vendor before shifting his focus back to Danger. "Not to mention, we can have Corellian hot chocolate along the way. It’s the best in all the galaxy."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

"The Gungans' techniques, you say?" Danger mused, her tone thoughtful, her emerald gaze cutting toward him with a mixture of amusement and interest. Her steps slowed just enough to let his words hang in the air. It was a good proposition, however, knowing Gungans... that likely meant going underwater. It was not the most pleasing of ideas, but Danger didn't indicate that she was uncomfortable with that.

"I'll admit, the idea of bringin' their aquatic farmin' knowledge into broader markets does have a certain allure. It's efficient, resourceful, and frankly, more forward thinkin' than some of the rigid traditions you'll find in other systems. And you're right... there's no reason Naboo can't be a beacon of agricultural innovation in the Mid Rim."

She glanced at him sidelong, her smile deepening.

"You do know how to charm a lady with a good pitch... However, workin' with the Gungans will take diplomacy, patience, and a touch of persuasion, not to mention navigatin' the waters of trust they've built over generations. That's no small task." She was curious if Lysander had the ability to navigate those waters as well as one of a guard. Not that she was expecting any issues on Naboo.

Danger shifted the shawl he'd gifted her around her throat. All the better to stay warmer in this frigid cold, she mused. Her grin turned sly, her throaty voice dipping to a near conspiratorial tone.

"As for womp rats, I'll hold you to that promise. I expect no less than my hair remain in perfect order while we're traipsin' about Otoh Gunga, talkin' with diplomats and Gungan farmers alike. If you can manage that, then I might just say you've got potential, Lysander."

With that, after she tucked the blaster in her purse, Danger extended her hand toward the vendor he'd gestured to, her smile as inviting as ever.

"And I reckon with this chill, a hot chocolate ain't a bad idea," even better if she could get it loaded with a bit of whiskey for the road.

"So, how about you tell me what you know about the Gungans so far. Anything I should be aware of that might hinder potential negotiations? Who would we talk to?" it was casual conversation as much as a test of his knowledge since he pitched the ideas. Danger wanted to see if he had done his research before hand.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

It was easy to be drawn in by the confidence she radiated. In truth, it was the same energy he was often surrounded by before choosing the path to become a Jedi. Looking straight ahead for a time, his mind began lingering on the nuances of her tone, rather than the actual task that lay before them. “A beacon of agricultural innovation..” he repeated with a murmur. It was like testing the words on his own lips, ready to manifest them into reality now.

The Padawan's eyes trailed along the greenery around them; the vibrant landscape was like a reflection of the thoughts brushing against his consciousness. “You’re right,” he said while walking beside her. He couldn’t deny that some of his personal views were also infused into the idea. “Not only could you modernize the agricultural landscape here, but you’d also preserve its beauty. Naboo has always been a symbol of elegance and peace. If we were able to collaborate with the Gungans, you would also protect the landscapes of this planet.”

Danger’s occasional glances made him start to second guess himself, if only momentarily. His understanding of diplomacy was solely from his personal studies. Lysander’s gaze flickered momentarily to the shawl as she adjusted it. But just as quickly, he lifted his eyes back up to meet hers. The corners of his mouth formed a smile that felt effortless. “Well, I do enjoy a good challenge. I will treat keeping your hair perfect as my next Jedi Trial.”

As they approached the stand’s counter, Lysander took a second to collect his thoughts; he wanted them to be more precise. Ordering the drinks, he handed over his credcard. After the cups were filled, he stepped off to the side and held out one to Danger.

“They have new leader named Mossi Pommu.” He took a sip. Rather than continuing to walk, he savored the warmth in his hands. “Word has it there’s been a change in power since the Netherworld Crisis. The old leader..uhh, well, he didn’t survive, not after all that stuff struck Naboo. I was actually present during that battle and.. I didn’t catch much of their involvement in the whole thing. Our relationship hasn’t been the closest with the Gungans, unfortunately.”

Suddenly, amusement bubbled up within him. Lysander’s lips pursed while fighting to not laugh. But it quickly became a losing battle as a small chuckle escaped. “I made sure to lay the land before you arrived because I definitely don’t want to get caught with my pants down in Otoh Gunga.”

Curiosity began to brew. "Hey Dangeruese, do you have..like.. any specific rituals before diving into business?" His brow furrowed slightly, not entirely sure how else to ask. "For example, before I practice my grappling and submission techniques, I have a super specific and personal warm-up routine and then repeat the same few words to myself every time before starting. If I skip it or even feel rushed, it always makes me feel unprepared..even if I know the skills are still there regardless."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger accepted the drink with a gracious nod, her lips curling into that familiar, knowing smile.

"It's a rare thing, hearin' someone so young speak with such care about preservin' both progress and beauty. Most are in too big a hurry to see past the credits." she drawled, the words slow and honeyed as she took a sip of the warm beverage.

She turned slightly, letting her gaze drift across the snowy Naboo landscape. The sunlight danced on the white banks of frost, casting shadows that seemed to shimmer as the breeze played over them. She might have admitted how lovely it was if she wasn't so peeved at having to be here in the winter.

Nine hells, how she hated being cold. Danger adjusted her scarf, making sure her neck was warmed by Lysander's gift.

The mention of Mossi Pommu caught her interest, and she gave a slow nod. "Change in leadership always stirs the pot, doesn't it? But sometimes, a fresh perspective is exactly what's needed. I'd be curious to see how Mossi handles negotiatin'. We'll have to tread soft, but not too soft. There's a balance in all things, Miztah von Ascania, even diplomacy."

When his laughter bubbled up, she couldn't help but join him with a throaty chuckle of her own. "Lay the land, hmm? Well, I do appreciate a man who comes prepared. " Her emerald eyes twinkled with mischief as she lifted her cup for another sip.

At his question, she tilted her head, considering him for a moment before answering. "Rituals? Hmm... I reckon I do. Before any meetin', I take a moment to ground myself. Could be as simple as sippin' a drink of choice and listenin' to the sound of my own breath, or as complex as goin' over every angle of a deal in my mind. Know who you are talkin' to, their history, likes and dislikes. Information is your friend -- and networking is worth its weight in Aurodium."

Another glance of emerald fire eyes landed upon the young teenager.

"There's more to it, but perhaps you can tell me what you believe makes a good start to negotiatin'. " she began, interested to see what he would say.

"How would you, if you were takin' charge of conducting business with Mossi Pommu, what would you do?"

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

​

"Credits aren’t what motivate me," he stated. But as the words tumbled from his mouth, he felt a touch of hesitation. Slowly, the thought was pushed to the back of his mind, deciding he wouldn’t delve deeper unless asked.

Lysander took another sip; he could feel its warmth spread through his entire body. The teen nodded his head in agreement with her next comment. The purple kyber crystal in his lightsaber meant he should understand these issues better, but he’d been failing miserably with handling most moral situations on Naboo. “You're right, balance is something I try to practice every day,” he said, truly believing his words. “I don’t want my strength only to just be in combat, but also with listening and understanding better, too. You know.. the only other thing I’ve heard about Mossi is that he may be a bit.. arrogant.”

The Padawan’s face lit up with mirth as he playfully shook his head at the woman's answer. However, when she casually dropped the gem about networking, another thing he’d been struggling with, it was stored away to mull over later. ”Hmm. Well, it doesn’t sound much like a ritual to me if you’re throwing in something different each time! It should be more consistent." A look of curiosity then spread across his face. “Have you ever tried meditation?”

Danger’s last question made him reflect on how he learned to navigate the rather treacherous landscape of courtly politics from his father’s aide. “Well, whenever around the council, or the many nobles back home, I was taught to use both grace and caution.” He recalled a handful of awkward encounters. “Compliments are always a good first step.”

Emerald orbs darted from left to right before leaning in closer, speaking barely above a whisper. "Not all the girls were exactly.. cute," he mused with a mischievous glint in his eye, "but you still have to find something truthful to say.. like, for example, you have rather beautiful ears that compliment your dress. Or maybe something about their nose." A light laugh slipped out.

He took a moment, trying to organize his thoughts, hoping to find better words for the setting they were about to enter. But instead, it just made him more aware of his lack of experience. So, he shifted to his connections with others. “I’d say setting clear boundaries is good. That would help us avoid conflict down there.” Then he reflected on some of the other Padawan’s he had been forced to work with lately. “And we should remain calm under pressure. If I lose my cool.. or well, if we lose our cool, it will give them an upper hand. We need to show them we’re in control of the situation. And any alternatives that could benefit both sides might also be a good thing.”

Conscious of being too chatty, he made a gesture with his hand towards the distant waters. “I also managed to get someone to lend me an old Bubbly Subbly. There's a story behind that too, but I'd rather save it for another time.”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger Arceneau regarded Lysander with a spark of curiosity in her emerald fire eyes, "Well, if it ain't credits that fuel your interest, then I wonder what does," she drawled, her tone equal parts honeyed charm and sly probing.

His comment about Mossi earned a low, throaty chuckle from Danger, the kind that lingered just long enough to suggest she'd seen more than her fair share of arrogant types.

"Arrogance, ain't no obstacle, it's an opportunity. You just need a little finesse and the right kind of persuasion to turn it into somethin' useful. Folk like that? They'll walk right into a deal thinkin' they're runnin' the show, and that's when you guide 'em exactly where you want."

Her amusement deepened when he asked about meditation. Danger shook her head slowly, her auburn curls catching the soft Naboo sunlight.

"Oh my kind of meditation don't involve sittin' still with my eyes closed. No, I prefer the kind that comes with lookin' down the scope of a well mainained blaster. Clears the mind right up, don't you think?"

As he continued, Danger listened with a practiced attentiveness, letting the boy's words flow as she adjusted the shawl over her shoulders. His insights on grace and caution earned an approving nod.

"You've got the right idea there. Compliments can open a door quicker than any passkey, but only if they're genuine. Folk can sniff out a false flattery faster than a bantha stampede. And for goodness' sake, don't go mentionin' a lady's ears unless you're sure they're in the market for a laugh." Her eyes sparkled with humor, but her tone carried the weight of real advice.

When he brought up the Bubbly Subbly, Danger's expression faltered for the briefest moment, a flicker of something like unease passing over her features. But, ever the master of composure, she quickly recovered, her smile firmly back in place.

"A Bubbly Subbly. That's… innovative. Reckon I'll take your word on its reliability, though I'll confess I'm not much for travelin' under all that water. Still, if it gets us to Otoh Gunga without any hair out of place, I'll call it a success."

With a graceful wave of her hand, she gestured for him to lead on.

"Come on, Mistah von Ascania. You can tell me all about Mossi and any other updates on Otoh Gunga while we're on the way. Best we get to it."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

​

He hesitated slightly, breaking his usual confident demeanor, when she hinted about his interests beyond credits. It was a lesson ingrained in him by his father’s aid, but finding the right words for Danger was challenging. “I don’t want to be defined by my wealth, like my family, but by my values and connections,” he said calmly. There were many more layers to it, but right now didn't feel like the best time to delve into them.

Lysander’s expression became thoughtful. “You probably don’t know this,” he began, his voice steady, “But I already have more finesse than the entire Jedi Council combined.” His self assurance was like a warm cloak. “But.. I would be lying if I said I didn’t crave more knowledge. Persuasion is something I haven’t been able to master. Not yet at least.”

Danger’s approach to meditation was the complete opposite of everything he’d been taught. Still, it oddly resonated with him, and a sly grin spread across his face as he remembered how it easily set her apart from all the Jedi. It was one of those comments she seemed to make occasionally that made her super cool in his book. “You know, most Jedi would lose it if they heard that.. But, I really like your perspective on things, Ms. Dangeruese. I do agree.”

He remained quiet for a time, cradling the cup of hot chocolate while listening with intent. Before long, they were headed in the direction of the lake again. The liquid slid down his throat, and Lysander savored its warmth in the same way he did their conversation.

Mischief danced in his eyes as he gazed back at her. “But would it still be false, if a nice nose was the only thing I could find?” A nonchalant shrug of the shoulders was offered. “What would you recommend, then?” His brows furrowed slightly. “Complimenting their sense of humor could even be a lie. How about their fingernails? But what if they don’t even have good nail polish? I guess I could try going for the elbows or knees. Any ideas for Mossi? I highly doubt I’ll be attracted to him. Gungans aren’t exactly.. my type.”

The outline of the Bubbly Subbly soon came into view. Uncertainty then washed over him. “Well, um.” Being aware any limitations he carried felt painful at times. “I forgot to mention.. I don’t actually know how to pilot that thing. I'm sorry.” There was a mix of annoyance and embarrassment, considering there’d been countless time’s he practically begged his sister to teach him.

“But what’s the worst that can happen down there? I mean, it’s not like we’ll hit a giant fish with teeth or anything.. Right? But if we do, I’ll use my lightsaber and carve it up, and we can have fillets for lunch!”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

“I don’t want to be defined by my wealth, like my family, but by my values and connections,”

There was more behind his words, she could tell, but he left it at that. Likely, he wasn't ready to peel back all those layers just yet.

​

Danger Arceneau studied Lysander with a quiet, thoughtful gaze, her emerald eyes catching the way his usual confidence faltered ever so slightly when she asked what truly drove him, if not credits. She recognized the hesitation, the subtle shift in his posture as he searched for the right words. For all his bravado, he was still young, still finding his footing in the galaxy's grand stage. And wasn't that just a mirror of her younger self? The Queen of Trade knew better than most what it meant to be young, ambitious, and determined to carve out a name of one's own.

Building Arceneau Trade into the powerhouse it was today hadn't come easy. It had taken grit, countless sacrifices, and more than a few sleepless nights negotiating deals that could make or break her reputation. So, she could respect Lysander's desire to be known for his values and connections. Reputation, after all, was a currency she traded in with precision.

Still, she wasn't blind to the arrogance that tended to ride shotgun with youth. Whether it was genuine confidence or a front he put up to shield himself, it could trip him up just as easily as it could carry him forward. Confidence, in her experience, was a sharp blade -- useful, but dangerous if wielded without care.

Danger tilted her head, her honeyed drawl carrying both warmth and a quiet authority.

"Well....Mistah von Ascania, I do admire a young man with the mind to chart his own path by his values," she began, her voice soft but threaded with steel. "But if I may, you might wanna rein in that bravado just a touch. Finesse, darlin', ain't somethin' you declare yourself to have -- it's somethin' folks see in how you carry yourself."

Her lips curved into a bemused smile as she continued. "And as for persuasion, it's not about mastery.... It's about connection. Understandin' people -- their wants, their worries, what keeps 'em up at night. You don't go around convincin' folks. No, you help them convince themselves. That takes listenin', not just talkin'. But I promise you, it's a skill worth polishin'."

When Lysander joked about noses and compliments, her smile turned sly, and she let out a soft, knowing laugh.

"Oh, bless your heart," she said, her voice teasing but not unkind. "If a passable nose is all you've got to work with, you're barkin' up the wrong Worshyr Tree. Folk don't care much about noses or elbows or knees. What they do care about is bein' seen. Ask about their passions, what lights their fire. That'll take you a lot further than a flimsy compliment, though I reckon Mossi might just appreciate a nod to his aquatic... charm."

As they reached the Bubbly Subbly, Danger's sharp gaze flicked over the submarine's scuffed hull and questionable propellers. At Lysander's sheepish admission, her brow arched in a slow, deliberate manner that spoke volumes.

"You mean to tell me, young man, you've brought us all the way out here without so much as a basic lesson in pilotin' this contraption?" Her voice carried a note of playful reproach, tempered with an unmistakable air of control. She stepped up to the submarine with an easy grace, brushing an invisible speck of dust from her sleeve as if to emphasize just how seemingly unbothered she was.

"Well, it's a good thing I've had my fair share of experiences with... less than ideal situations," she said smoothly. She had spent a few years in her own teenage years piloting her own ship and transporting some questionable cargo on more questionable transportation. As much as she hated having to deal with going underwater, how bad could navigating this be?

"Now, let's see if this ol' girl's got what it takes to get us where we're goin'. And Mistah Lysander?" She glanced over her shoulder, her smile warm but tinged with challenge. "Let's hope your next surprise is a touch more planned, hmm?"

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau
​

The flicker of surprise in the teen's emerald eyes betrayed him as she spoke of his bravado, but he instinctively composed himself, even allowing the hint of a smile to grace his lips. Deep down, he didn’t think it was that obvious. And rather than the usual retort, he at least felt comfortable enough to reflect on her words rather feel disgusted. The brief silence would speak for itself, accompanied by a subtle nod of the head to convey his understanding— and a sign of respect for her guidance.

After leaving Ukatis, Lysander felt like he’d been doing worse since trying to follow the conventional ideals of a Jedi, often straying far from their path.

Danger's more insightful comments on persuasion felt like a heavy cloak on his shoulders. While he didn’t need to rekindle his empathy per se, there were often moments his analytical mind enjoyed wielding logic like a giant sword, ready to dissect arguments with others rather than trying to better understand the person behind them.

As Lysander stepped into the Bubbly Subbly, excitement instantly washed over him. The ship creaked as he moved about, a far cry from the more luxurious vessels he assumed Danger was accustomed to; fortunately, it seemed like it had at least one more adventure in it. “I mean, I get some of these controls, but I wouldn’t say I’m a pilot by any means. I just sort of.. assumed it would be easy for someone like you, you know? Like everything else you seem to do.” His expression became thoughtful. “There's nothing wrong with being a rookie and wanting to be trained by the best captain in the business.”

Clearing his throat, he then shot her a cheeky smile. “And it might not be the most glamorous vessel, but it totally has some personality.” His fingers traced over the console, as if understanding the language. After that, he moved to the passenger seat and adjusted it. “Honestly, I enjoy a good challenge. And if things go sideways, we’ll at least have a cool story to tell.”

Unlike the lessons from past self-righteous Jedi Masters, with their unruly hair and boring stories, sitting there and watching her made him feel ready to learn and grow.

With a tilt of his head, the blonde attempted to mimic her distinct accent. “Are you always going to call me Mistuhh von Ascania, or will Lysander ever suffice?" he drawled.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

The Queen of Trade had spent decades honing her ability to read people like a holobook. The way Lysander's eyes widened, just for a moment, before he composed himself -- oh, she saw it clear as day. That flicker of surprise, followed by a subtle nod, told her plenty. He wasn't the defensive sort, at least not in this moment. No, the boy was willing to listen, and that alone earned him a few points in her book. If he had the sense to recognize his rough edges, well, she might just take the time to help him smooth them out.

The submarine was a far cry from the sleek ships she was used to, and she might've been fibbing to herself if she claimed the faint stir of nausea didn't creep in when she stepped inside. It'd likely get worse once they were submerged, completely surrounded by water.

Still, Danger wasn't one to let discomfort show. Settling into the worn pilot's seat, her finery looking entirely out of place against the scuffed metal, she took command with the effortless poise of a woman born to it. Her fingers moved over the controls with purpose, flipping switches and scanning displays as if this battered submersible were her personal yacht. The faint creak of the metal hull and the stale scent of trapped air barely fazed her.

"I've done my fair share of pilotin'" she said, her voice smooth and steady, even as her throat held that honeyed drawl. "Reckon this won't be any different… just a matter of navigatin' a few angles or two."

Lysander hovered nearby, a mix of curiosity and nervous energy. Danger caught the way his eyes darted over the controls like he was trying to make sense of them. When he made some remark about how she seemed to make everything look easy, she cast him a sidelong glance, her lips curving into a wry smile.

"Flatterin' as that is, Mistuh von Ascania," she said, a light tease in her tone, "assumptions like that tend to sink ships faster than bad weather. Now, go on. Sit yourself down in that copilot's chair there and help me out make a sense of things."

She gestured toward the seat, and when he chuckled and asked if she was always going to call him 'Mistuh von Ascania,' she let out a soft laugh, rich and amused.

"Folk like me don't throw around names lightly," she drawled, her voice carrying a warmth that softened the sharp edges of her words. Truth be told, more often than naught, Danger had used the Mistuh as a way to build walls and keep folk at distance. She'd done that with Judah for several years before she finally called him by name. By then, that meant something.

"For some, a name's as much power as any weapon -- a thing you keep close to your chest. Why, the Firrerreo won't even share their true names with anyone but a mate. Now that's somethin' to ponder, don't you think?"

Her hands continued to dance over the console as she spoke, her focus split between the conversation and the task at hand. "Now, where is that navigation system… I'd bet there's some sort of autopilot on this thing."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

​

Lysander felt a flash of annoyance at Danger’s words. He didn’t quite think he was trying to charm her, but it did stir many memories of the past– there were many times when his flattery was the best weapon and shield he possessed, wielding it with finesse to avoid criticism or trouble altogether.

Instruction also felt foreign on his tongue; he certainly wasn’t fond of being told what to do. Had it not felt like he were getting to hang out with a HoloStar, he definitely wouldn’t have complied. Retorts for every comment she made were on the edge of his lips, and it was a struggle to hold them all back; it felt like she was digging at his pride. Verbal spars were his absolute favorite, and in his mind, he was undefeated!

Being addressed by his last name always felt like it tied him to his sister, who seemed to be known by literally everyone wherever he went, and he was desperately ready to claim his own identity. “That does makes sense and I’ll try to think about it more later.. but having to say Mistuhhh von Ascania every time just sounds exhausting,” he commented. “Lysander would be easier, right?”

Saying that much felt good at least, as though it lifted weight from his shoulders. It was followed by a sigh, and he shifted to the copilot’s chair, turning towards the navigation system. Lights flickered across the screen, mapping out their destination.

But then the Bubbly Subbly shook in a way that was almost violent. Lights flickered with warnings, yellows and reds igniting while an alarm blared for a split second. Embarrassment washed over the Padawan. “Hmm. Well, that’s never happened before! I guess this will be a fun ride,” he said

His gaze fell back to Danger. “Remember when I said I’d prepare my best questions?” The words carried notes of sincerity. “Well, I didn’t forget.” Lysander retrieved his small portable datapad from a pocket. It took a second longer to find some of his notes stored away. A deep breath was inhaled; he didn’t want to mess this up– not in front of her.

Finally, the silence was broken. “You simply have to pick between Group A or Group B. Ok? Group A is fueled by the pursuit of excellence and being better,” he started, his tone slowly becoming more confident. “This group appears to understand that strength and determination are important for climbing the ladder. Their motivation is often as simple as wanting to prove themselves, achieve awesome things, and just to be the best in whatever environment they find themselves in.”

He paused, glancing over for her reaction before continuing. “Okay, then there’s Group B. They are more compassionate and nurturing, I guess, but they have an idealism where unity and cooperation are more important. For them, they have ideals of fairness, which can sometimes discourage more personal expressions.”

Holding the device firmly in one hand, he turned back to Danger, flashing a grin. “Oh yeah, you can’t ask why I’m asking either! That would be cheating. Just a simple A or B will suffice.”

Mirth bounced off the walls of the cockpit. “Looks like you’re pretty much stuck with me for the time being, and the soonest you can ditch me now is on Otoh Gunga if you decide I'm too annoying.”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

Danger let a slow, knowing smile curl at the edges of her lips, tilting her head just so as Lysander's words settled in her mind. The boy had a certain fire, no doubt about it, and what really tickled her was how he managed to keep that sharp tongue of his tucked neatly away. Oh, plenty of grown folks -- wise, seasoned folks, mind you -- couldn't manage that simple feat when their pride got ruffled.

Perhaps there's something in him after all, she mused.

The submersible gave a sudden, bonerattling shudder, the lights flickering like an old hollow's heartbeat skipping a beat. Alarms chirped in a fit, but Danger's fingers twitched just once, and with a flick of her wrist, she silenced them.

Oh no you don't! Danger thought to herself, and while she might have blanched a bit, she did her best to try and keep her bearings as if she were in any other boardroom meeting with folk ready to pull a blaster trigger at each other.

"Well..." she drawled, "if this little contraption thinks it's gonna toss us overboard, it's got another thing comin'."

Her eyes drifted over to Lysander as he fidgeted with his datapad, like a young Kathhound pup eager to prove himself. When he asked his questions, she raised her brow just the slightest bit.

A little amusement danced behind her emerald fire gaze as she began to guide them underwater. The way he looked at her, hopeful, like he was trying to gauge the weight of her opinion, made her smile soften just a touch as she considered his proposition, making her think of Makai.

"Sounds like group A's is all about skills and ambition... all that climbin' and reachin', that's somethin' I can respect," she mused, her voice steady, taking the submersible deeper. The water began to darken and Danger activated the lights, being keen on keeping an eye on the sensors.

"Can't say I haven't done my share of ambitious climbin' myself -- did more than a few bargains and deals to get me to where I am, tellin' myself I'll make Arceneau Trade better than my granddaddy ever dreamed of...But Group B..." She let the words roll off her tongue, letting her voice drift as she seemed to muse aloud.

"Hmm.. well, compassion and nurturing have their time and place, but one has to utilize them when it makes sense. Honestly, ain't no different than the first... However, compassion and nurturing are only goin' to get you so far, and odds are that unless one takes precautions, one might end up gettin' taken advantage of without a fair amount of good common sense and timin'. "

Danger had her own faults and flaws and weaknesses -- she had a heart of gold, but she knew damn well that living with a heart on one's sleeve had a tendency of wearing one down and making things difficult. Not to mention, there was a time and a place for things.

"By all accounts, if I have to pick one, I'd be more keen on Group A... but with certain caveats. Experience tends to let one know how to balance out that ambition and strength. There is a time and place for things. "

Danger found the navigation controls and set to looking for any preentered paths to Otoh Gunga.

"One thing is for sure -- out there in the galaxy, you'll meet all sorts, people with the kind of powers that can twist reality around their little finger or have the credits and the clout to have their way -- and let me tell you, their hearts are full of all sorts of things." Her voice grew low and husky, but her sage wisdom spoke of decades of experience with facing such circumstances.

"Some act out of greed, some think they're doin' good, others... well, they're just plain dangerous. Worse still, some of them delude themselves about what they're really up to. But at the end of the day, they're not all that different from the rest of us. They've got the same flaws, only their mistakes have a much bigger blast radius."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

​

For a moment, his gaze fixed outside the viewport as the vessel began its descent. It was the boy's first time traveling underwater, an experience that brought more wonder than anything close to fear. The vastness of blues and greens felt oddly inviting. There was something about the thrill of the unknown that had always called to him. Danger’s confidence as a pilot also made it easier to enter a more relaxed state. Lysander then turned his attention to the woman, listening intently as her voice filled the space between them.

At first his fingers danced upon the datapad’s surface, jotting down some of her shared wisdom. But as she continued, he decided to place the device on his lap. The Padawan shifted slightly in the seat, turning to face her. Each sentence she spoke seemed to echo in his mind, igniting a foreign sense of eagerness to both learn and understand.

He had partially predicted her picking Group A, which he respected, and was rather thankful she didn't press him for his reasons, even though he had asked her not to. It didn't take long to notice that without the constant supervision he was accustomed to from other teachers, paying attention felt more effortless and broke through any mental barriers that might been around his thoughts.

A curve began to stretch across his lips, one that felt genuine. While mulling over her insights, his mind also raced with countless responses. It was no secret that his responses typically revolved around humor, but now he hoped to be more sincere. A soft chuckle bubbled up from him. “That was slightly more than a simple Group A or Group B, but I’ll let it slide!” Lysander paused for a moment. “So, it almost sounds like we’re all just cast members in one big ol' HoloReality show, huh?” The smile danced in his eyes as well.

Danger had experienced more than he could fathom. He fell silent again, something that almost uncharacteristic for him. "I align with Group A, too," he said, feeling determination swell in his chest. "But you’re right, balance is important. I just like how that one seems to prioritize skills and ambition." He made another small adjustment in the seat, relaxing his shoulders. "There’s something simply primal about wanting to reach greater heights. It’s like the training I’ve gone through; every single day is a small step towards becoming better.”

In the distance, the faint outline of Otoh Gunga began to emerge. The city looked like something out of a dream. Perhaps he would have time to squeeze in one more question.

Leaning in with a tilt of his head, the teen's green eyes sparkled with intrigue. "Ms. Dangeruese," he breathed, "how do you.. differentiate those with true intentions from those hiding behind a mask? What's your secret?"

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

The soft hum of the submersible filled the small cabin, blending with the occasional chirp of the navigation system. The glow of the controls painted Danger Arceneau's face in hues of blue and green as her fingers danced across the panels, doing her best to ignore the unnerving press of water on all sides.

She didn't look at Lysander immediately; instead her emerald eyes focused on the viewport ahead, but she was listening -- Oh, she was always listening.

Every word he spoke gave her another puzzle piece to work with, another glimpse into the young man he was shaping himself to be. He had fire, that much she'd already decided, but it was raw, untempered, and eager to blaze in every direction. Dangerous, yes, but also promising.

At his comment about life being a HoloReality show, she let out a low, husky chuckle "A holoreality show? If that's the case, reckon I'd like to meet the scriptwriter," she drawled. "Maybe give 'em a piece of my mind for all the plot twists they like to throw my way."

Lysander's earnestness tugged at something deep in her, a reminder of what it felt like to be young, driven, and desperate to make your mark on the galaxy. She let him talk, giving him space to work through his thoughts. And when his question came, the one about masks and intentions, she finally turned to face him fully.

For a moment, she said nothing, just studied him with a gaze that felt as though it could peel back layers. And while her usual inclination might've been to play coy, there was something in the sincerity of his green eyes that stayed her hand.

"Well, Miztuh Lysander'," she began, smiling as she used his first name instead of his last, considering what he had mentioned earlier about having to say his full surname -- yet she still kept the Mister regardless. "Differentiating between the genuine and the counterfeit... that's a skill you don't pick up overnight. It comes from experience, from seein' enough masks to recognize the cracks in 'em."

Her voice softened, though it didn't lose its edge. "You start with the little things...how someone speaks, how they carry themselves, whether their eyes meet yours or skitter away like a spooked nuna. Words can lie, but actions... they tend to give the truth away eventually. You just gotta pay attention, real close."

She paused, a faint smile tugging at her lips as she added, "And if you're serious about learning, a Lorrdian tutor wouldn't hurt. They've got a knack for reading people like a datapad." Her tone turned playful and teasing, though she steered clear of any mention of the Companions. The boy was far too young for that conversation.

None the less, with a slight incline of her head, Danger added quietly, but no less seriously, "But let me tell you somethin'. The hardest mask to see through? It's your own. We all wear 'em, one way or another...sometimes for so long we forget what's real underneath. The trick is not lettin' the mask fool you too."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

Lysander watched as Danger maneuvered the control panels. She moved over the buttons and screens like they were an extension of her being, just as a lightsaber was to him. As the woman’s words about the scriptwriter cut the space between them, amusement instantly bubble within. With a deep inhale, he managed to suppress any laughter. Instead, the corners of his lips curled up. And even with his best efforts, the boy's green orbs would still sparkle with mirth.

Though he was young and often remembered by rather erratic behavior, his analytical mind was sharper than a vibroblade, and it was easy to note how she so easily blended humor with wit. It was like she always had something up her sleeve.

His face lit up with surprise when addressed by the first name. The Padawan leaned in slightly, brows furrowing in thought at her shared wisdom; he understood the message, and instead of replying right away, a nod of the head was offered. Rather than jot down any notes in the datapad, he also decided to savor the moment, storing away every word in his mind for reflection later on.

“What you say makes sense,” he finally replied with a steady voice. “It’s like putting together a.. well, a whole bunch of pieces that might not even belong in the same puzzle.. I think.”

He paused for a second, before continuing more thoughtfully. "I definitely wouldn’t mind having a Lorrdian tutor. That would totally be a game changer.. and a good investment, too.” The credits to cover the cost were readily available, and of course the desire was there, but it already felt challenging to balance his schedule between rigorous training and studies. A memory flickered through his mind from years ago Ukatis. “One of my father’s aid once said to me that if something is important to you, then you’ll make the time for it. It sounds easy, and I believe he’s right, but sometimes it’s still a challenge to.. prioritize things? If that makes sense.”

Slowly, he began to shift his gaze away from the woman and through the viewport. Drawing closer, more details of the underwater city became clear. “Hmm,” he murmured. “Well, whatever mask you're wearing, I think it’s pretty cool.”

Just as a soft smile appeared, it was extinguished, having already gathered that just about any type of compliment or kindness was suspected to be flattery to the tradeswoman. It was annoying in its own right, especially since his intentions were pure, but Lysander assumed she'd most likely been bothered by one too many nerf flies. Wasting no time, he shifted gears. “I’ll make sure to keep everything you said in mind when we start dealing with Mossi. Maybe I’ll even be able to identify a few of those little things you mentioned. Besides, the last thing I want is things to go south down here.”

Eventually his gaze returned to Danger. "So, where should we start once we arrive? Or do you think we should make a plan before diving in?”

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

Danger tilted her head slightly, her emerald eyes scanning the young Padawan with a touch of amusement as he worked through her words. She could see the gears turning in that sharp mind of his, and it gave her a pang of hope that maybe he'd find his footing sooner than most.

"Well, if you are keen on a Lorrdian Tutor, I've a few I could recommend." Danger added, giving a faint smile. Her time working across the galaxy had left her plenty of networking achievements and the ability to provide references and guidance across the spectrum for folk that could help Lysander achieve what he wanted to do. It's the same that she'd done for Makai when he was young and for Myra afterward. The remembrance of it brought a genuine smile to her face, truly softening her features.

"And your father's aide is right... one makes the time for what's important," she said, her voice low and measured as if the words were as much a reflection of her own hard-earned wisdom as they were advice to the Padawan. A brief flicker of a smile ghosted her lips, but it didn't quite reach her eyes.

She'd spent two decades building Arceneau Trade to where it stood now, and she'd sacrificed more than a few comforts along the way...more than a few things she'd wished she could've held onto.

Danger leaned back, letting the hum of the submersible fill the silence for a moment before continuing.

"But what you'll need to remember," she added, the drawl thickening just a touch, "is to be mindful of what those priorities are... and what the cost is to get where you're goin'."

Her fingers gently tightened on the armrest, a soft sigh escaping her lips as she thought back to the long nights and harder choices she'd made to get to this point. "There'll be moments when you'll have to choose what to keep and what to sacrifice to keep movin' forward. It ain't always clear, and it's never easy... but if you've got the stomach for it, you'll learn fast what's worth the cost."

She eased back in her seat, her hands steady on the controls as the shimmering domes of Otoh Gunga slowly came into clearer view. The city's bioluminescent glow lit the dark waters like a beacon, and honestly she was glad that they were not that far off. And though it was beautiful, Danger's mind was already navigating the terrain of their upcoming negotiations.

"As for where we start," she continued, her tone thoughtful now, "I reckon it's best we keep it simple at first. Let Mossi lead the dance, so to speak. Folks like him, they'll tell you all you need to know if you just let 'em talk long enough. Watch how he moves, listen to what he don't say as much as what he does. And don't you go takin' anything at face value."

She leaned back in her seat, one perfectly manicured hand resting on the armrest as her eyes softened just a fraction. "Now, don't fret too much about gettin' every little thing right. Mistakes are part of the game -- the key is learnin' from 'em fast enough to stay in play."

The submersible gave a gentle lurch as it approached the city's outer gates, and Danger's lips quirked into a faint smile. "Looks like we're just about there. Ready or not, this is where the real lesson begins."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Danger Arceneau

As Lysander turned to face Danger, his blonde hair shifted ever so slightly. There were hints of eagerness in his gaze. “I would really appreciate that,” he said calmly. His shoulders began to relax. The offer would definitely save him a lot of time, as he was uncertain about where to even begin finding one. "The only real challenge may be the come and go from Naboo, unless they're able to travel to me," he added, tilting his chin while a playful smirk graced his lips. "Sneaking away has been the toughest challenge thus far, especially with all the security in the dormitory. It’s like trying to escape a prison."

He paused and returned his attention to the vibrant view of Otoh Gunga; then, the Padawan felt determination settle over him. It was a beautiful view. A nod was offered in return to her comment on his father’s aide; without a doubt, it had been one of the most influential people in his life. And though he may not have experienced all of life's lessons just yet, Lysander was plenty observant, having witnessed some of them during his time spent on both Coruscant and Naboo. His younger years Ukatis was spent solely around humans, who’s behaviors were fairly easy to read, unlike some of the other sentient species in the galaxy. “I’m willing to sacrifice anything to get where I want to be, I mean it,” he stated. The fervor in his tone became unmistakable.

“I’ve also been warned that many who start the journey with you won't be there at the end. Most will abandon you as you climb higher up the ladder.” Lysander's expression became more thoughtful. “From my understanding, people only like you when you’re on the same level as them,” he stated, shrugging slightly. "But once you start doing better, they suddenly dislike you, and you lose their support." A faint smile pressed at the corner of his mouth. “But, either way.. I still think it would be cool to share that journey with a few good people on my team.”

The anticipation of arriving rushed forth and Lysander unconsciously ran several fingers through his hair, a bundle of emotions swirling in his mind– it was a mix of excitement, anxiety, and even curiosity. It took several heartbeats to ground himself and focus solely on the present moment. “You’re right. I’m just going to study Mossi’s moves and see what happens. I know that with your guidance.. we can get past any unforeseen obstacles.”

When the Bubbly Subbly finally arrived at the dockport, the Padawan noticed a gathering of Gungans already approaching from a distance. Concentrating on steady breathing while leaning forward, he allowed himself to relax further. “I’m totally ready. This will be easy enough. Let's do this,” he said with hints of warmth in his tone. The Padawan's expression softened after taking one last glance through the viewport. “I trust you, Ms. Danguerese.”

A hand reached out, extending his pinky finger and flashing his well-known mischievous grin. "And I pinky promise, not a single hair will be out of place by the time we finish this!"

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Lysander von Ascania
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

There was something to be said about the manner Lysander talked about sacrifice when he swore up and down he'd give anything to get where he wanted. She'd heard that kind of talk before. Lived it herself, once. But time had a way of testing convictions like that, and the hardest lessons weren't found in the things you gave up, but in what you never got back.

"Ambition's a fine thing, but don't go lettin' it outrun your good sense. You're not wrong ....folk'll come and go, some by choice, some by circumstance. But the ones that matter, the ones worth their salt, they won't see you as competition. They see you as company." She let that settle between them, her gaze steady as the submersible glided closer to the dock.

Her emerald gaze flicked back as he extended his pinky, mischief sparking in his eyes. That boy had charm, and she'd give him that.

Danger exhaled, a low, husky chuckle slipping past her lips. "I reckon you're pushin' your luck if you think a pinky promise's gonna hold weight in my book." But there was no real bite to the words. If anything, she admired the nerve.

Still, she didn't take his hand. Instead, she gave him something better -- one last, quiet bit of wisdom before they stepped out into the open.

"You trust me?" she murmured, her honeyed voice like velvet and steel. "Then trust this -- every promise costs somethin'. Make sure you're willin' to pay the price before you go makin' 'em."

With that, the submersible gave a soft jolt, docking into place. The Gungans were already gathering, and just like that, the game was on.
Danger shifted forward, poised and composed as ever.

"Alright, Mistuh Lysander," she drawled, eyes gleaming with something sharp and knowing. "Let's see if you're as ready as you think you are."