Private What Lies Beneath

[Maestus]

Worrarg

Crakull
Alkonost
Spaceport

Alkonost. The shining jewel in Maestus crown on Crakull. Surrounded by high walls, streets patrolled by well armed marauders garbed in black armor with red accents. Those colors alone enough to distinguish them as the soldiers of Maestus.

The spaceport proper stood outside the city's walls. Due to the sheer size and capabilities, it wasn't feasible for the port to be any closer. From the looks of the ships coming and going, as well as cargo of all shapes and sizes, Alkonost was a thriving hub for commerce and transportation.

And so it was that Maestus found herself striding through the spaceport near dusk. The side looks and hushed tones were clear evidence she wasn't seen often here. Or were they simply afraid of crossing her and winding up decorating a pike somewhere throughout town? Either way, the port rats parted as she moved through the halls.

She turned down a hall that had a slight decline to its angle. Following it for roughly 100 yards, give or take, she came to a blast door and its guard. The guard, to his credit, swallowed hard one time. The adam's apple protruding from his throat tried to break free from its skin shackle. A couple more quick, silent swallows and silent swallows, and he was good as new.

Maestus raised an eye at him, fire-rimmed black eyes staring into the guard's own. The poor guard paled beneath her gaze. Beads of sweat broke out across his forehead. Dry tongue tried in vain to wet his lips. He moved his lips once or twice, without sound.

Poor guard stood terrified. His limbs simply would not respond to his brain screaming for them to work. His light brown eyes began rapidly darting around. He dared look at Maestus a couple times. Flinching each time, awaiting his inevitable demise.

Maestus watched the poor man's struggle impassively. Then, she narrowed her eyes and leaned in very close to the guard's ear. Her breath hot on his skin, flowing with the ease and fury of lava on Mustafar.

Open the door

Poor shmuck. As Maestus leaned in, he'd clamped his eyes shut tight as a vice. He just knew she was going to eat his brains. Why else would she get so close?!

When she spoke, the guard damn near fainted. Finding his brains exactly where they should be, he snapped around and smacked his palm down on the scanner and the door whooshed open.

A parting glance to the guard, followed with a lingering wink. She didn't wait for his reaction, and stepped deeper under the spaceport.

After a brisk walk, the corridor gave way to a massive, open area spacedock. Enough for 1 ship at a time to unload or load "oversized" cargo. Truly, the size of the cargo mattered not. Shortly after Maestus took residence on Crakull, this was her first project. She demanded absolute privacy for any and all traffic that she deemed "important".

And so it was that she found herself stepping into the underground dock this eve. Being lowered from a large, industrial sized lift capable of handling most any size shuttle, drop ship or other ships as able, was in the process of bringing down a new arrival.

Maestus stepped around the perimeter. She wanted no obstructions when the cargo was unloaded.​

​

 

[Worrarg]

The beast awoke from the hibernation like trance he had learned to enter to avoid starving to death on long journeys. One of a few tricks he had begun to pick up more naturally. That, and the other he was using. Force cloak, it did not hide his signature, because there were few who were searching for it. But it did shade his body. It was not an easy one for him initially to get into, as the things he was bending, conforming around or through him, were not things that he needed to see. Such an ability was utterly worthless against him, as his eyes saw solely through the force. Light, color differences, walls, they were all meaningless. Just pieces of the truth that he saw. Yet still, he figured it out. The same way a human might find a way to hide from a creature that is colorblind. They need not be restricted to only what the creature sees to learn how to hide it, just understand the patterns involved.

Still, the cloak was not perfect. He was much like a shadow. A ghost, visible only to those with senses like his. Or who were looking very closely. Once spotted, an inattentive mind might lose track. Or think him a mere strike of the imagination. Especially as, when he realized he was seen, he could move so swiftly and quietly that he was out of sight properly before their gaze could return to him.

And it was with these two skills, he had found his way to Crakull. And he could see so much from here, before the walls of the transport gave way. So many beings, so many peculiarities. As they opened, he could smell even more. Like fear. That was not the force telling him that. That was just his built in functions, the excessive sensory aptitude alongside the abundance of physical prowess gifted to his kind. Were they a common race, perhaps they would have been looked upon like wookies. Unable to speak common, long living, and brutal physical opponents. But they were not, they were few, speckled throughout the great galaxy. Like a sprinkle of seasoning across a banquet. Just a very potent sort.

He clung to the top of a container as it was moved, ready to re-orient himself to any necessary shift either for his own safety, or his own secrecy. And then his head tilted ever so slightly rather than staying rigidly still against the frame. A particular one. A twi'lek woman. She was the power he had spotted, the peculiarity. She was the causer of the fear. Curious, very curious! He took an opportunity, as the cargo was laid down he lunged through the air. The ghost-like form hopefully going unnoticed as it traveled between not through lights and onto a wall. And the leap from the cargo causing it only to seem like it had been placed poorly.

And then, still as a stone against the wall, he watched her with those alchemically created mirky eyes that saw only through the force. He wanted to see more, what she would do, how much power did she have, what were her skills? Did they all fear her? Was it only fear, did some love her, hate her, envy her, worship her? Curiosity drove him.

Caution had to be taken naturally. Especially around one like that. But perhaps she was not like him, and did not have the innate senses. But must activate them. If she could see as he did.

Well...that could prove problematic. His physical prowess was far beyond what any twi'lek, even a cybernetic one, should reasonably be capable of handling. And there was plenty of cargo containers to hurl if need be. But something with that kind of power, power of the soul as his god might call it. Or the spirit perhaps it was. That kind of power could far transcend such physical abilities. And what miniscule training he had in the force might not be enough, if violence was their first impulse. And from the look of her, it might be.

Maestus

 

[Maestus]

Curious...

A little bird had whispered this delivery would pique her interests. Cryptic damn thing, indeed. Thus, her presence here. Judging by the way the dock workers are reacting to the boss showing up, it's not a common occurrence whatsoever. Tools are being dropped. Containers being slammed into the ground repeatedly and workers running into their shadows.

Maestus paid them no mind today. If, in fact, she even suspected anyone in this hangar to be the slightest bit disloyal, she'd end them on the spot in a most horrific manner. So the workers do have good reason to fear her.

No, her eyes followed the cargo container Worrarg cloaked himself upon. Her Lekku hung below her waist. Their tips began twitching just a touch as the Beast tilted his head towards Maestus. The only visible reaction about her person.

She was dressed rather simply, very much function over form. Loose, hooded robes of the blackest black trimmed with crimson stitching. Rugged trousers and boots in matching trim. She carried no visible weapons.

When the Beast leapt from the container, she closed her eyes. She, too, had excellent sight through the Force. The little bird had been absolutely right about her interest tonight. She was very interested in studying him.

He was obviously Force sensitive, though weak. Raw. Untrained. She took a few steps forwards, eyes still closed. Lazily drew her hands behind her back.

She could feel his curiosity immediately. She nodded her own head slightly, approvingly. His mind was strong, a trait Maestus respected very highly. Damn that little bird knew her too well!

When the Beast landed on the wall, she paused in her walking. Not for any particular reason. She was following him via the Dark Side of the Force. It flowed from her, hot as the lava of Mustafar and as everlasting.

No, she stopped simply because she wished to see the reaction of her timing. He was capable of using the Force, albeit young. He was obviously physically capable. And his mind appears eager to learn. Now, she wished to see the character of the Beast.

​

 

[Worrarg]

The beast called Forerunner eyed her, a twitch, discovery? Twi'leks he had seen on coruscant, so many races he had seen on coruscant. They filled the planet like ants in a colony. Only so much more varied, so much more creative, so much more fascinating. They could move those Lekku in fascinating patterns, communication sometimes even. He didn't truly know the language, but he recognized the pattern of a way of speaking. So, what was it this time? Was it recognition, a chill, a silent word, stretching, twitching? He could not be certain, but that was just the way of things. There was very little certainty, and a great deal of maybes. And he loved to discern their options.

And then she shut her eyes. He didn't have that issue, but he knew what that meant. She was not using them right now. She bore no weapons, yet was feared, her presence was strong, and it was not like those of the jedi. It was dark, like his god had. Well, not exactly like his god's. He saw the differences, and also how she bore one, and not two. It was quite reasonable to assume she was feared because of her power in the force not just some vague authority like a warden or governor might possess. And how she used that power.

She nodded her head too. A twitch of lekku, a nod of the head, and she stopped. He felt, believed, as though he was being watched. What other rational conclusion was there? She did not seem to be doing it in response to anyone else. If she saw him, and no one else did...he could test that. He could communicate with her, without any of the others seeing them doing so. That would be amusing.

He stretched one limb out, making motions of writing. But not scratching, merely the gestures as he wrote imaginary lines along the wall. With wide strokes so that from her distance he could be sure she could see them, not knowing the extent of her power. "I am called Worrarg. I do not hunt you." he 'wrote'. It seemed a sufficient start. His name, in his own tongue, meaning Forerunner, and a statement that he was not here to hurt her. Now that did not technically exclude her people, so if he did have to kill someone, he could not rationally be accused of lying. But the ice had to break somewhere. Best to start off somewhat amicably. It was not practical to begin things with a fight. Nor to shock everyone but her by dropping into their view. If she saw him, she could respond however she chose. If she did not, then his secrecy was still his own.

Despite the hope she would choose non-violence, as he was most curious to watch and learn, his whole body was ready to bolt in any direction at a moments notice. That powerful spine ready to contort him around an attack even where he was, should gravity be too slow for his liking. If it was violence, he had to be ready. Unfortunately, given the circumstances, it was unlikely any of these people could serve as sapient meat shields to protect him. So a fight would prove...complicated at best.

Maestus

 

[Maestus]

It would seem neither was choosing violence as a first impression. This honestly pleased Maestus. It was one of her many faults with the galaxy at large. She's not advocating pacifism by any means. She simply believes any situation can be handled with options other than outright bloodshed.

Violence is simply another tool to be wielded situationally. When the time is right, use violence. When circumstances require tact and deft, apply liberally.

She feels this ingrained reaction she's witnessed for decades is due to the inflationary nature of ego. Her "Sith" brethren the very epitome.

All in good time...

It did not take long before she saw what she wanted. The Beast was capable of critical thought and decision making. How very intriguing for her.

When he moved ever so slightly to write, her chin tipped slightly up. Through the Dark Side, she understood his words. He was young, still smarter than most she knew. He held the obvious physical advantage of size and brute strength. Yet, he seemed very situationally aware. She approved of this greatly.

Eyes still closed, she turned herself fully facing him now and began to walk in his direction. Hands still clasped behind her back as she moved

I am Maestus. For now, I do not hunt you.

She stopped once more, a few meters from his position. She spoke through the Dark Side. Her words simple and very plain. She, too, was very curious about Worrarg. Also being keenly aware of his unknown physical prowess, she maintained a relaxed posture. Unthreatening, yet the muscles in her back, core and legs were honed from years and years of battle. Ready to react without hesitation.

Step down. Into the light

Her eyes opened finally. Fire-rimmed pits of the blackest night gazed heavily at The Beast. He would sense no malice or threat from her. The dock workers had given them a hefty berth as well. Clearly, Maestus was playing nice today

Worrarg
​

 

[Worrarg]

She recognized the writings even as he started, that was a good sign he hoped. Rather than just a sign that she was only assessing his threat level. And then, he 'heard' the voice. Not a physical one, one with the force. Another reminder, his creator did that too. He knew it wasn't unique to him of course, but it was curious to see it again by one so similar and so different. And fortunately, the words were not violent. Even if he recognized the "For now" as he doing not dissimilar to what he did, if a bit more threateningly.

She continued, and then stopped. Not far away. Told him to step down and into the light, and she opened her eyes. If there was immediate threat, he couldn't see or feel it. But he knew it could emerge at a moments notice. Still, he dropped from the wall, landing as gracefully as something that size could without tech, wings, or the force, each set of feet slowing his fall until the last set touched the ground. And then, he let the shadows, let the ghostly covering of force cloak fade. As she'd asked.

She already had seen him, if through the force, the rest could now to. A 2.5 meter long, 2.1 meter tall deathly white furred creature, with a long tail, six massive limbs, and two smaller ones by the neck, numbering nine appendages in total if including the tail. Opening his wide toothy mouth not to threaten, just to speak. The words were huttese, more common than shrywook or his native tongue that was only known by his kind and their creator, but enough that some knew it. For those that didn't, the Vocodor around his neck did the translating, "I like to watch." he said simply, "To learn. But my form scares many, and so to watch something other than panic, I hide."

It was a simple truth. He was not a sithspawn, but those that knew the term, might think him one. Those that didn't, might merely see something big enough to eat them. Strange enough that it looked as though it would try. He was not accusing her of course, she showed no signs that she feared him. If she did, she took very peculiar means to talk to him. No precautions, at least, no extra ones.

"I do not get to see kinds like you often. Or the effects they can have. What they may know." another simple truth. Perhaps a bit too much sharing of knowledge, but that was alright, doing so, might promote more sharing. And that was his desire.

Maestus

 

[Maestus]

He was truly remarkable. She'd never seen one such as he. She turned to walk around him. She wanted to see him from every angle. She kept her hands clasped behind her back. She'd given her word, she had no desire to hurt Worrarg . Her word, once given, she stood behind.

Incredible. What is your species called? Where are you from?

Maestus paused, slowly looking at his eyes. Under normal circumstances, making eye contact with her doesn't end well. Worrarg could feel she meant him no harm. Her gaze bore into his slowly, almost gently. Velvet tendrils began to invade his mind, sliding through his thoughts. Searching. Worrarg could feel great restraint and care being taken by the Twi'lek. She could easily create any reality she wished the Beast to live right this very moment. Or, she could force him to relive his greatest fears and nightmares over and over again. No, she sought something specific from him. The truth.

Her next words, he would feel in his mind.

Why have you come here?

There was no implied threat. She was genuinely curious about him. Also, she was making it very clear that she would know the truth. She was giving him the rare opportunity to have a choice.
​

 

[Worrarg]

He continued to watch her. There wasn't really that much more threat in front than behind, especially not with how fast he could twist, nor how flexible those limbs were. So he had no reason to try and spin to keep her in front of him.

As she paused, he gave his answer, "We are called Voran. We come from our creator, Vash Walker. I was one of his first, so I was called Forerunner." he answered. All truth so far. He didn't flinch from her gaze anymore than he had flinched from his gods, nor her tendency to reach out to his thoughts. Only monitoring those tendrils, assessing them and her through his various senses and his own connection to the force. However comparably untrained it might be, the use of force sight was still immense. And the experience of a telepath before her, at least let him know of the basics. Though, the sensation was different. His creators was more...particular. It sought the thoughts, and it manipulated things, like memories. But it was not as much intent upon the realm of illussions.

Another question, one he felt was already answered, yet he spoke again in his tongue. Whether or not it was asked in his mind. "I am curious. I search, I hide, and I watch. I have always been this way. The here is just circumstance, one of many locations before it. One that had more curiosities than most though."

Again, all truth. It was just what he did. There was no concern for a great purpose nor some grand scheme. The plan was simple, explore his curiosity. There was still the command from his creator that one day he was to return to make more of his kind. But with no time-frame given, Worrarg had plenty of decades before such a thing should be labeled as urgent.

Maestus

 

[Maestus]

Vash Walker. She committed that name to memory instantly. If this Vash person truly created Worrarg , and others, Maestus needed to meet them. Perhaps insights could be gleaned to infuse new life into her own work. A mind capable of such stunning creations, and sentient. To say nothing of also having created a being who is Force sensitive. Truly remarkable.

She stepped a few paces back and turned towards the tunnel she'd entered through.

I would like you to come with me. This is a secure path to my residence. You will not be harmed. The atmosphere down here is less than comfortable. Come, I will arrange food, drink, shelter and protection while you are here. I believe our mutual curiosity can be better explored on a full stomach without prying eyes.


The dock workers had all been watching and listening to the odd couple. Forerunner's dropping his shadow cover brought him into full view of the workers, as well. Suffice to say, there was a lot if whispering and tool dropping at the sight. Maestus turned her gaze sharply towards a cluster of gawkers. Cue tools being gripped tight and the stomping of boots as they all cut and ran.

Maestus looked to Worrarg a final time. She then turned and walked to the tunnel, soon to disappear as she headed for her home. This was a delicate and formative moment for the young Beast. Whether he understood it fully, she would allow him to make his own choice to follow her.​

 

[Worrarg]

For one of that nature, the darkness, she was in this moment rather non-aggressive. Of course, this was her home terrain, and that could change at the drop of a dime. He was fully aware of that concern. For now, she showed no aggression, but then, neither did he. She was a master of the dark side, and he was built to be a predator, both found leaping to violence an easy option. Though he was well aware of the greater danger he was in, should it arise.

She asked him to come with her, promising no harm, food, and drink. So their curiosities could be sated. To say he trusted her would be an overstatement, and an oversimplification. He still could not. But to be fair, the last familiar thing he met was a creation, like he was, promised something similar, and that had been quite nice. For a time. But they did not promise to sate that curiosity so much.

Risks had to be taken sometimes, and technically, refusing was a risk too. NO matter what she may say or think, he considered it a risk. He'd follow, their gaze on him was no surprise. Yet that was not the interesting part, it was their sheer fear of her. He'd seen it already here, but while he'd make no move to call it down on him. He was curious about the circumstances that made it so ingrained into them.

As he walked, quiet for a beast of his size, he spoke again, "Your species, it is one of slightly less extremes than that of humans. Yet not by much. This is odd." he stated it quite simply, "The humans have a tendency to have the weakest, and the strongest. It is far rarer for a Twi'lek to be the strongest. And yours bear survival traits humans lack, yet they only possess two advantages over them. Less vulnerable spot by the head. And numbers."

Observations like that were hardly abnormal for him, he wasn't sure if he should point that out or not, but it was said, "My kind has not seen extremes of any kind yet. Aside from purely material, and sometimes intellectual. We are still young, and we do not know what you do. And have been too cautious and dangerous, so far, to see the lows that a more widespread race can usually see." this time, the you was very much directed at her specifically. He might not recognize all her powers, but he knew she had it. "At least, none of us have learned such things. yet."

Maestus

 

[Maestus]

The corridor they now walked through had a slight incline and seemed to go on forever. Here and there, halls would branch from either side. Never intersecting and no pattern to when a hall appeared. Maestus took a left and from there it was a maze. The further up through the maze they went, Worrarg would feel the ambient temperature increase.

At some point, thank the maker, an end to the walking was in sight. A set of blast doors, flanked by a member of Maestus Chosen(sub needs an overhaul). Two human males of average height. Both appeared to be in their prime as for age. Well muscled, lithe as a swimmer would be. Bare chested wearing loose, rugged pants and boots. Each held in their right hands a very deadly Beskar pike. As the pair approached, the men turned to face in at each other. Never did their focus shift from their mistress. The fact that Forerunner accompanied her meant she allowed it. Words weren't needed.

She stepped to a small control panel and placed her palm in front of a scanner. The doors opened and she lead the way in.

If Worrarg thought the heat had become stifling in the corridor, which it had honestly, the interior of Maestus' home was downright overwhelming. The Lethan seemed to become more relaxed, more graceful, almost at ease as the heat swelled with every ebb and flow within the area.

The room they had entered into was, by the looks of things, a study or library. In the center of the room was a holotable surrounded by a metal outer table. Computers, datapads and all manner of various bits lay across the table. Two lone chairs were sat for a table that could easily seat 20 Wookies.

The source, in this realm anyways, of the heat was immediately made known to Worrarg. The room they were in was somewhat circular in nature. Around the room, dug into the wall, were 8 alcoves, deep and wide enough for 20 humanoids to encircle the raging inferno in the alcove's center. Beside each fire alcove stood two individuals, Maestus acolytes, the firetenders.

Between each fire alcove were shelves upon shelves of manuscripts, books, holobooks, and a various assortment of artifacts from eras unknown. Either Maestus had a -very- good fire suppression system installed, or she was -that- in control of fire.

She stepped into the room and made her way to the table and chairs. She finally turned and regarded him. She wanted to finally, fully assess him in here. She'd made no attempt to hide nor diminish her force presence. What she had held in check thus far, was her force power. Worrarg had felt a touch of it, when she'd entered his mind. The aura that had surrounded her psychic presence had been strong and obnoxiously bathed in the Force.

When the door closed behind Worrarg, Maestus gestured to the chair opposite the one she stood before. Now, the Beast was being treated to Maestus unfurled. What had previously been the sense of obnoxious Force power was introducing itself. Malevolent, insidious, overwhelming and then it was quiet as a church mouse. Maestus clearly had the Dark Side at her beck and call. She gestured to the chair opposite her and then sat in her own. She waited a while to allow the young man to adjust to a great many things which, it occurred to Maestus, were very likely firsts for him. So she studied him and his every reaction, visible and unseen, to everything thus far before she spoke.

I will answer your every question in time. Right now, sit. Are you hungry, or thirsty? I prefer to talk and eat. Two birds, one stone. Time is, as of this moment, finite. I prefer to make the most each moment. So, we'll have a good meal and some very enlightening conversation.


Worrarg could tell, still, their was nothing dishonest from her. She was, rather oddly, being honest with him. Nor did she give even the suggestion of violence. She leaned back in her chair settling into the cushions. She was allowing him to dictate the flow so far. If he wanted to wander the room, she made no move to stop him, nor did the firetenders pay him any attention. The one feature in the room was a set of doors with no control panel. Maestus would be patient, let him move as he wanted.​

 

[Worrarg]

Worrarg continued onwards, feeling each progression of the temperature. The walls might make a maze for some, but as he could see right through them. Feel the progression of heat, smell the lingerings of any passerbies and shifting of the air, it was no more mazelike than any forest or cavern system. But all the more better for defending, allowing for numerous ways of setting up traps or ambushes. He was fortunate for all his limbs, despite his massive size, this many limbs made traversing such a situation easier as he could press himself against walls and floor at once and propel himself through it like a type of slingshot if need be.

He didn't, of course. That was nonsense in this situation, but the thought of how he'd traverse the caverns in a combat situation very much occurred to him. Utter obedience these people had, utter faith that the woman was in control. It was fascinating to watch, he only was able to see such loyalty with his own maker. And unlike him, she didn't have the advantage from building these people from the ground up or spending time warping their biochemistry until they were of the total belief that he was their god. At least, he assumed she didn't. It seemed unlikely, and probably unnecessary based on his experiences so far, even with limited data.

IT really was so warm, that was....something to attend to. Consider. Heat meant less internal heat need be expended to keep the body of a sufficient temperature, too much heat meant overheating when pushing too hard. He wandered if that was the intent, an efficient force user he figured might have found a way around such problems. He was efficient in his own way, but that didn't meant there wasn't risk. Not without further training to handle such circumstances. But, that relied on him going full on for an extended time period. He'd have no intent of maintaining conflict in sub-ideal circumstances.

Her heating system was most curious as well, again, a familiarity to the Cursed Blades. However this case was done more directly, and at least partially by the others. And her power was given on more display. Fascinating, fascinating. But what could she do with it? He'd seen little so far, he knew of many things force users could do, but he'd only barely scratched the surface with this one. He understood that. She had power, and a form of loyalty, or devotion, she had some kind of mastery of fire as well as telepathy and sensory abilities. But there had to be ever so much more.

He wasn't afraid, no, fear was not so natural to him. He ran on instincts and intellect, but before this, was that insatiable curiosity, mixed with the threat awareness of a prey animal, and the offensive awareness of a predator. He was prepared at any moment, yet, it was not any extra stress upon him. It was just his natural state in such circumstances. He watched, those alchemical eyes of his seeing all these things through the force. Looking to every individual without turning, every fire, chair, table, even looking through the floor, roof and wall by just tilting his head slightly. The distance to such things didn't need to be changed, he simply stepped up to the chair as he watched all these things, and of course maestus. The beast was too big to fit in it naturally, instead wrapping his smaller more dexterous arms around its backing and resting his chin over the top, relaxing some of his legs behind him. In particular he looked to see any mechanisms, if they existed at all, behind the doors without a panel. Curious if they were operated purely through the force or some hidden system.

Honesty, that was still what she was presenting. Still. If she wished to change that, he assumed now would be the time. She kept bringing him deeper into threat areas. Such risk. But there was plenty of risk outside as well, and much knowledge to be had still. He wasn't yet capable enough to dictate terms of his own, not with people like this. Even if allowed to change flow.

"I do hunger. We are omnivorous, though wheat and grains are not ideal." he answered, it was the truth. He answered the same way she asked, technically it could be taken as a polite offering, but formally was not committal. So he responded in kind, an answer of what they could eat, but not making claim that they'd been offered it, one of those questions she promised to answer in time was forefront as well, he wasn't sure the best way to phrase it, "Do you choose peace so far with me because it is more convenient than by strength, or do you choose it because you prefer it?"

He had to say, for him, generally it was both. He was hardly opposed to violence, it posed little problem. But it was an inconvenience, provided minimal information, and overall was a waste of resources when alternative options were available.

Maestus

 

[Maestus]

I choose peace, at the moment, because violence or aggression would be counterproductive.

She turned her head towards one of the firetenders. A second passed, two at the most. The Firetender dipped his head and quickly left the room. Lacking any visible control panel, the doors opened.

She considered Worrarg in silence. Truly, she was fascinated by him to an amazing degree. Especially considering he was living, breathing proof that what she'd been working towards for decades was absolutely viable. To say she wanted to learn more was an astronomical understatement.

Before long, the Firetender returned bearing a large tray with a few plates and bowls with lids, as well as a large mug. The Firetender placed the tray before Forerunner, lifting lids. No grains whatsoever anywhere. There was a bowl full of a stew, steaming with chunks of meat and root vegetables. The two remaining plates held different cuts of meat. Bantha, nerf and who knows what else. All cooked roughly medium-rare degree of doneness. The large mug was full of fresh water. Maestus nodded and the acolyte resumed his duties.

I hope the food is to your liking. Should you stay, inform the kitchen as to any dietary requirements and preferences you have.

You intrigue me. I have been working towards similar ends as your creator has accomplished with you and your brethren. Although...Scientist is only one of my titles. A job description, if you will. Another is Sith Lord. I'm unsure just yet what abilities you've been endowed with, or what education you've received about those abilities. I suppose we should start with the basics in regards to that. So tell me, Forerunner. What have you learned of your abilities so far? Of the Force?

She'd felt his presence through the Force before he'd become visible to the naked eye. He obviously had some power. Maestus was interested in his potential, which seemed wholly untrained thus far. On their walk through the corridor, she'd started to consider training him. He would, naturally, require testing before she fully committed to him. Taking an unworthy apprentice was inconceivable for her. A scowl flashed over her mouth, thinking of her own master. Or was it former master, at this point? One day, she would have those answers, as well.

Worrarg ​

 

[Worrarg]

Counterproductive, yes, that was the logical assumption. Even if she had a preference. He watched the food as it was all brought out, this was quite the welcome for a stowaway. Of course he fully considered the possibility it was poisoned. Though they'd naturally have to take precautions in such matters, but he figured that she likely had an alternative way of handling that if she wanted to poison him or anesthetize him, such as by air. Then again, maybe she'd expect he could see something like that, but not see it hidden by food. Still, in his current situation, it was best to act accommodating, plus, if it wasn't poisoned, then no reason not to anyway.

More surprisingly than that however, was the 'should you stay' and that it came with the benefit of telling the kitchen his dietary requirements. Worrarg hadn't starved yet, but this...situation. It was a wholly new one, like with Damsy, nor like with his creator Vash. She found him intriguing, given she labeled herself a scientist, that shouldn't be a surprise. Given her following title, her casualness to the situation and her abilities were likewise not a surprise. He didn't really know the sith that well, as a whole or as their details, but he understood what they were broadly.

Offering for him to stay, curious on him as a scientist, and also poking at his abilities in the force, mmmmm, apprenticeship was something that seemed maybe on the table. Either that, or she was just being patient until she could dissect him after gleaning whatever she could from him. That would be an unfortunate end. She seemed more on the stable side so far, so at least the problems he might have to worry about were likely only ones she planned.

He had taken to some of the soups as she spoke, using his smaller arms to gently use the bowls and pour some of it into his gaping mouth. The intent being to reduce the sheer amount of noise something like he could produce when eating otherwise. As she finished, he stopped quickly eating. And spoke, hoping the scowl was not for him. "I appreciate your hospitality, this is excellent." he began, "I know the force is one of the terms for it. These," he pointed to the cloudy eyes, "Were made with the exclusive purpose of permitting sight through them. It is an inherent trait, one I and all my kind should posses, either born in the lab as I as or by natural birth. My creator calls it force, sometimes spirit, sometimes power of the Vo. "

"This however is our only step up in the force, while we all have the ability to use it I believe, we do not all have strength, nor any given talent. What I have learned so far has been through practice, instinct, and some of it from some help or observation of others. However aside from some very basic telekinesis," he presented that skill by nodding his head to the empty soup bowl and having it hover to and around his head once before returning as he spoke, "The skills I know are all quite....natural in a way. They are the most necessary for a species like me, the ability to hide from the ordinary is vital when you wish to travel. To hunt, not as much. I could do that without it. I have also learned to create a sort of hibernation so I do not need to eat during these trips that I had to do on my own properly. But it seemed a natural enough conclusion. Beyond these things however, and what you saw, I have not progressed much. I spent many of my early years merely observing society and people and how they functioned, I only recently began properly expanding my skills into the force. As a race, we were made to be adaptable, and know both how to attack and how to run or evade, predator and prey. And have the physical attributes to back it up. We were not, however, told how. My creator wanted to see how the species preformed on its own merits, not just his teachings.

it was a bit long winded for how he was used to speaking. But, he hoped it was an apt summary of what he knew and what she might wish to know. The sad truth was he was not even a padawan or a youngling in his more in depth knowledge of the force, at least philosophically. He understood it, he saw it, he could glean information from it to grow his abilities. But he hadn't learned it or truly begun to grasp its power properly.

Maestus

 

[Maestus]

The food, he would quickly realize, held no poison or other chems of any nature. The dishes were exactly and only what they appeared to be. When Worrarg voiced his appreciation, she dipped her head in recognition and smiled a touch.

Up until he explained otherwise, Maestus had no idea his "eyes" saw only through the Force. Or, as he called it, the Vo. She would inquire about that another time. She sensed his caution, and likewise the well disguised optimism simmering with in. She motioned to the large mug of water.

Clear your mind. Empty it of all thoughts and emotions. I want you to focus on the mug. Recognize it, its size and shape, its properties. Then, using your will alone, draw it towards you.


She sat stock still yet relaxed in her chair. This was very plainly both test and lesson for the young Forerunner. Apprenticeship was indeed on the table. First, a baseline must be established. Minimal proficiency must be met, else would it be an efficient use of time to train one who was incapable of proving worthy. ​

 

[Worrarg]

He would eat what was offered. It was certainly appreciated, something his size needed a great deal of food to sustain it. And while he could use that trick to hibernate in a way to survive the long trips on a spaceship, his metabolism was going before, and it was going after too. That need had to be satiated.

She motioned to a mug of water. Asking him to clear his mind and then draw it towards him. He felt he had already preformed the latter trick. However, the clearing of the mind, that was not so easy. His race wasn't designed to do that. They were given attributes of predator and prey, but not inherently social animals that had the liberty to rest un-threatened. And so the emptying of the mind was...foreign, utterly so.

Still, he would at least attempt it. The results were...imperfect. He got close, arguably. The emotions, those vanished almost instantly. An easy thing to deny. The thoughts however, that was more of a challenge. It was in his nature to consider many possibilities and routes, as well as to keep in mind the command to recognize the mug and draw it towards him. Although, of those two aspects, he felt he had already completed the former anyway.

But he tried. Thoughts, diminished in number, and in intensity, but they were certainly present. The mug moved easily enough though, hovering through the air and into the more dexterous arms that were attached more on the neck than the torso, he looked to her, "This challenge is not so easy." he admitted simply, "My thoughts continue whether I wish them or not. This may take practice and time."
Maestus