Son of the Six Sisters

[Jorga the Hutt]

[member="Mia Monroe"]

The headbutt, also known as the Keldabe kiss -- staple of Mandalorian CQC. To avoid a broken nose or black eye, he leaned down and let his forehead run into hers with an eyewatering crack. Eyes squeezed shut, he reached up and over her right hand with his, grip wrapping around her knuckles where she held a fistful of collar. He twisted clockwise, aiming to break her grip and turn her arm, straightening it. The goal was to get her up against the diagonal wall beside the door, face-first -- and when he brought up his left to plant it against the outside of her shoulder, that goal got a little closer to fruition. The wall was a transparisteel fish-tank two metres wide and a handspan thick. Inside, tiny flecks of blue-green navigated the water. Behind it was another wing of his office, the area where he met important guests -- large chairs, a low table. A little bit hypnotic. The fish, not the possibilities.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

The connection of their foreheads left her dazed for a heartbeat, long enough for him to get the upper hand and spin her to face the fish tank. She let out a noise, somewhere between a grunt and a growl of anger, her left elbow driving backwards towards his gut and attempting to twist back round.

"Get. Off. Me."

[member="Rel Connory"]

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

[member="Mia Monroe"]

The elbow hit harder than it should have. His diaphragm locked up, he stumbled back, and he let go of her arm rather than drag her with him. Echani and ori'ramikade muscle memory wanted to do half a dozen nasty things, spurred by the too-recent Sith mindset, but he held back. One hand found the doorframe; he kept himself upright by force of will. "Fine," he bit out. "You started it."

Deliberately, he turned his back and limped toward the couch. If she wanted to take a shot at him, that was her prerogative. And frankly, he couldn't blame her if she did.

 

[Lina Ovmar]

Already he was turning his back on her when she'd only just found him again. Already she'd allowed her anger to get the better of her, justified or not. She closed her eyes, sagging slightly as regret doused her fury. Opening them she took three quick steps to catch him before he reached the couch, fingers closing about his hand to make him stop. Her heart was in her throat as she moved before him, eyes settling on his for a long moment before she spoke.

"I'm sorry." she whispered finally. "I spent...far too many weeks wondering where you were, what had happened to you. I thought you didn't want to see me, its not like you haven't got a dozen reasons to walk away from this. But the One Sith? Galeth..." she shook her head.

"You're insane." Her other hand reached to curl about his collar again as she brought her head to rest against his, tugging him close.

"I missed you."

[member="Rel Connory"]

 

[Jorga the Hutt]

[member="Mia Monroe"]

Layers upon layers. Within Parash, the Bard -- Connory -- Galeth Hennst. A name that he'd forcibly abandoned for the sake of deep cover. He hadn't so much as thought of it in weeks.

"I found what I needed to find," he said, lips almost numb, speech a little clumsy. "I found out about the ones that tortured you. They weren't part of the One Sith. And I can't know for sure, but everything I found points to them being dead and gone. There's nothing left to fear, even if there's plenty left to hate."

 

[Lina Ovmar]

There was a long list of names associated with 'Talith'. Once upon a time, Mia would have gone looking for them, offered them an eye for an eye for what Nemene did to her. But that was in another life, and she'd long stopped caring. This body didn't bear the scars she'd been left with, she wasn't reminded of it every time she stepped in front of a mirror and that helped a great deal to let go.

She could feel his heart beneath her fingers, feel his breath against her lips as he spoke. She tightened her grip and closed her eyes for a moment, relishing in everything about him. "There is only one thing I am afraid of, Galeth." she opened her eyes "And that is losing you. The sith don't matter any more, the mandalorains, the republic...none of it matters. They can kill each other till their hearts are content. So let Nemene rot in her grave or lurk in the shadows. Dead or not, I don't care. So long as I have you, none of it matters."

[member="Rel Connory"]