Ask Killer Queen

[Darth Stolas]

Another day, another smog-filled morning on Eriadu. The factory world wasn't as bad as some places he'd been but he still appreciated the air filtering in the nicer parts of the capital city. Like in the Sith base, for example. It wasn't quite as ominous-looking as the one on Sullust, but it was a base nonetheless. He'd dressed himself in his usual, a black, fitted long-sleeve shirt tucked into his belt and high waist trousers, themselves neatly tucked into a pair of light leather boots. In his left hand he held a datapad, and in his right a large plastic bag that left tasty-smelling steam in its wake.

Morgan made his way through the complex toward the quarters, checking yet again from his datapad that he even had the right room. He stopped, turned down a hallway with a series of spaced doors, stopped again in front of a particular doorway. He glanced at the door number, then the datapad. Correct room. Great.

The datapad was clipped back on his belt and he hit the call button on the door panel, stepped back, and waited. Hopefully Lyra was actually there.

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

She was on schedule so far, her days always begun early with stretches and movement drills to keep herself limber. Then she moved to her saber training, meditation and then back to her room to work on her research following a quick shower to rejuvenate and refocus. Her research on the hypergates were spread out in pattern around her; a mandala of notes, books, tomes, and electronic equipment. Lyra of course was in the middle, her red hair tied in a bun to keep out of her face, scribbling quickly as her mind calculated coordinates in exercises of trial and error. Most would argue to use droids and computers to do this work, but the acolyte found more satisfaction knowing no shortcuts were taken to complete this.

It would be in the middle of this exercise did she hear a chime from her door. Lyra sat up straight and paused, listening carefully to see if they would buzz her door again. Her senses told her someone was waiting outside, but it wasn't Emryc, she knew he was away on his new mission of being a politician. Curiosity piqued, Lyra stood up and looked down, feeling self-conscious about being in just a tank and training shorts. However, she expected just to dismiss whoever was there and go back to her work.

The door opened and Lyra's eyes widened in surprise; she recognized the Firrerroen from the social on Sullust not too long ago. She stood in her door way and tucked her pencil behind her ear. "Hey-um, hi." she awkwardly fidgeted, "Are you looking for my Master?" she asked him, frowning, finding it odd he would be stopping at her quarters.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

At first, Morgan's expression was his typical, hawk-eyed and analytical, bright gold glancing over the woman and her attire, the pencil over her ear, the bright red hair, the way her cheeks curved gently down into her jawline. Then past her toward the pile of research materials. The distant scents of sweat and soap hit him a moment after a moment, of paper and active electronics, the earthy undertones of pencil lead. After a few moments he looked back at Lyra.

Morgan smiled at her, friendly and charming, though with a hint of mild bemusement. "I'm looking for you," he corrected in a lightly accented basic, bending forward slightly at the waist in his usual basic greeting bow. Morgan looked at Lyra a moment more, almost appearing to look through her rather than at her. "It suits you," the young Sith commented without further context, eyes actually looking at her this time, face to face.

"May I come in? Oh," he paused, lifting up the large and still steaming bag. The smells of meat and spices emanated from within, drowning out the others from the doorway.

"Do you like bread?"

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

He smiled and the acolyte felt even more bewildered as he announced he was looking for herself. He gave a small bow and the girl continued to observe him, now looking for any subtle hints of deception. She never had guests and no one ever came looking for her, so she was uncertain if this was something good. "It suits me?" she looked down at her attire and quirked an eyebrow in doubt, assuming he was talking about how she looked. But then he asked if he could come in and Lyra hesitated even with his raised bag of food.

"I don't know..." she looked over shoulder to the organized mess, but whatever he had smelled delightful, "Just don't step on anything." Lyra stepped aside to allow him to enter and navigate through the narrow spaces of floor not covered by her notes or equipment. Inside, there was very few places to sit; one corner of her room had a desk, occupied by piles of papers and books, the chair also was being used for book storage as well as place to drape clean clothes. No bed, but there was a pillow and a mat in the corner as well as her field gear she would use for training. Not even the walls were spared and covered in several star maps. Lyra returned to the center of her notes, "Its a bit of a mess..." she took a couple careful steps to move the books from the chair so he could sit.

"So why are you here to see me?" she asked, taking a seat back in the center of her mandala, seeming a bit more relaxed with the distance between them.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan stepped inside past the girl, avoiding brushing past her skin or clothes, and looked briefly around. Wordlessly he found his way, deftly stepping over and around the various obstacles strewn across the floor to find an open space on the floor at least two arm lengths away from where Lyra planted herself. He looked at her, an amused smirk asserting itself. She looked like a fiery-headed queen in a castle of books and paper. He wondered if it was built on stone, or pillars of sand.

"Never you mind. It's your home, not mine," he said, laying his bag on the floor and opening the top of it to reveal a vented to-go box from some bakery. 'Dress Girl' was written on the top of it in rapid and messy pen. Morgan lifted it from the bag and placed it on the ground an arm's length away, a small pile of napkins placed on top, to allow Lyra to pick it up if she wanted. Inside were buns filled with a thick, meaty stew, slightly spicy. It was curry bread.

He looked up at her again from opening his own box, the smell from inside intensifying as a result. "I've heard you're something of a slicer. I need your help with something."

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

She watched him unpack his bag that he was carrying and set down a to-go container with napkins within arm's reach of her seat before sitting back down and helping himself to his box. Lyra leaned over and grabbed the box, the aroma quickly filled the room when Morgan opened his and she could feel her mouth watering even though she was still unsure what exactly it was that he had brought her. On top of the box, it was scribbled dress girl and Lyra smiled before opening to the curry bread; she lifted the box closer to her nose to smell all the spices, many she couldn't tell what they were while she listened to her guest speak.

"I am." she agreed with whatever rumor he had heard about her, "What type of help? Getting in? Keeping out? I can also make some fail with a selectively inserted piece of coding..." she picked up one of the buns with her fingers and took a bite; it was still rather hot, but it tasted glorious. Lyra sat a bit straighter in delight, "These are amazing! Sweet, salty, fried...everything that is not good for you!" Lyra took another bite and looked inside the bread.

"It has meat in it too?" the girl shook her head in enthusiastic disbelief, "What are we slicing then?" she asked, seemingly already interested in the task even though she did not have full details. She felt the food was to sway her in some way and waited for a catch, though she was in too good of a mood to be disagreeable.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan handled his box of food in a particularly meticulous fashion. He only manipulated the edges of the box and anything else with the tips of his fingers, opening the box and placing his own small pile of napkins to the left of the box at a right angle. He picked up a bun and bit into it, chewing it quietly and then softly removing any remnants with a napkin with the other hand.

The enthusiasm from the girl drew out a little smile, though he didn't immediately answer her question amidst the flurry of other words and a few silent moments of thought. Instead there was a soft humming from his throat, gentle and melodious and pleased with Lyra's so far positive response.

"I have some work on Eiattu that may need any or all of those. I need to secure an area for use and it's going to take a lot longer if I don't have you with me," he said, turning his eyes from the food to look directly at Lyra. "If you slice as well as you dance it should be no trouble at all."

His lips turned up into a smirk and he sat up straighter, leaning a hand against one of his crossed legs. He'd watched how she moved in that dress on Sullust, coordinated and well practiced. But the way she danced wasn't mere rote and movement, it was something she had a passion for. He had respect for someone who put the work into such a skill, whatever rank they held among the Sith.

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

Lyra looked at Morgan, she thought it was a funny world to be targeting, but it must have been worth his time and her own for him to make this visit. She took another bite as she listened, her gaze falling to his neatly assembled food box and napkins, trying to place her finger on why that looked so familiar.

He noted her dancing skills and looked to compare them to her slicing and Lyra paused, her cheeks turning several shades of red until it nearly matched her hair. She wasn't used to to such compliments, she danced as well as she did because it was her passion, but there was something about being center stage that the young acolyte reveled. He leaned forward on his arm with a smirk, watching her with interest.

"I can keep whatever it is busy for you." she grinned, "What will you be doing?" she asked him, curiosity into what this work would be about would determine what she needed to do to give him the time he needed. Though she was also interested in why one had business on Eiattu, she didn't think anything was there except some banthas and a guy who claimed to be a king.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

He stared, almost unintentionally, as the girl across from him turned red. He had the good grace to go back to his food after a few seconds, but it hadn't been the effect he'd intended. He thought about it and her question for a few moments, and had an assessment of both quickly enough. For the first, he privately decided her reaction was very cute.

"Removing a problem," he answered after once again after finishing his bun and cleaning off his fingers with a napkin. "Before it becomes larger." The problem in question was a group of criminals on Eiattu that would likely have an issue with Sith rule in the future. But that was only justification for the job, not the reason he'd settled on it. It wasn't work he'd been offered, it was work he'd chosen on his own. For a flicker of a moment, his expression darkened before shifting back into something more friendly.

"They deserve their fate."

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

Lyra observed him as he explained the job, it was short, vague, but it was enough for the girl to know what they would be doing and what it could possibly entail. She was satisfied with the explanation, not pushing for anymore information. He cleaned his fingers with a napkin as he spoke, his gaze turning darker as he thought about the justification for the job and Lyra gave a nod in understanding. She could find justification for their fate, it would be as the Sith will it to be.

She stuffed the last of the bun in her mouth, chewing slowly as she looked down at her fingertips, thinking it would be a waste to use a napkin. She swallowed her food, "When are we leaving?" she asked, cleaning the curry flavors off her finger tips, she glanced around to see where she had put her pack in the mess of papers and equipment, "Do you have a ship? I have one, but I think it makes people nervous when the noises it makes." she inquired, recalling the last time she had someone ride in her ship. She thought it was perfectly safe, however.

Closing the lid to her food box, she stood up, stretching her legs and ankles, feeling herself slow down for a moment "So I think we skipped introductions, what can I call you?" she asked, glancing to the top of her box with dress girl written across the top.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

The young Sith's eyes rose to look at the fiery-headed girl, watching how she cleaned her fingers. He was quite sure a certain someone he knew would look on that with a sense of revulsion, the thought bringing a small, affectionate smile to his face. The man was missed, but the two of them were busy with their chosen paths. Morgan looked forward to seeing him again all the same.

"As soon as possible. We'll take my ship, if you don't mind," he said after a moment, neatly packing things back into his box. He rose languidly from the floor to his full height and rolled his shoulders. The girl's next question brought him pause and his eyes turned to look at her again with an expression of mild bemusement. Had he really forgotten that step?

"You may call me Morgan. What may I call you?" He would turn away to head out the door after her reply, once again carefully navigating the veritable minefield of detritus and materials strewn in vaguely organized piles across the floor. He paused in the doorway a moment before turning back around to look at Lyra and flashed her a cheery smile.

"Thank you for agreeing to help."

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

Lyra watched as he stood up, her mind already running with ideas about what she needed to pack, her eyes left him as she started to look to where she had last left her bag. Though with how her room was overtaken with her work, and the majority of her things piled in a corner, it might take her a moment to figure out where she left what she needed. Perhaps it was time for a bigger space to spread out her work. She glanced back at him when he spoke, introducing himself as Morgan and Lyra grinned, she liked how it rolled off his tongue, "I'm Lyra."

She stood up and watched him carefully move around her papers and books and stopped at her doorway, thanking her for helping him.

Lyra stood quietly, her smile faded, finding the gesture unusual and somewhat uncomfortable. She didn't think she heard anyone thanking her in years and she wasn't even sure how to respond. She opened her mouth to say something, but no words came and realized she had been standing and staring longer than she felt was appropriate, "Yeah, leaving as soon as possible." she nodded as her cheeks turned another shade of red, turning away to gather some of her belongings she knew would be needed.

Once Morgan stepped out of the doorway, the door would close and Lyra would reemerge within a few minutes later dressed more fitting for blending in among spacers. She dropped the strap over her shoulder and brushed her hair behind her shoulders, "Lets go..." she hummed, seeming eager to do something other than her studies.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan sat there in the doorway for a few moments just watching the emotions run across Lyra's face, the way she stared and seemed lost for what to say. The young Sith blinked and turned away to leave Lyra to her awkwardness, electing to ignore it for the moment. It was the polite thing to do, even if it was genuinely pretty fun to watch her change colours like that.

Back outside in the hall he waited peacefully, chewing through another curry bun and staring idly at the plain, black metal ceiling. The door eventually opened again and Lyra stepped out, no longer in shorts. Morgan nodded and again cleaned his fingers with a napkin that made its way into the bag, then turned on his heels and walked on down the hall.

He was quiet as they headed toward the hangars, swiping an ID card to get through the door. There planted on the otherwise stable plating was an IFST-17 light courier painted in alternating colours of red, gold, and green, the former two blending together across the hull while the latter made up distinct shapes and sharp lines. Morgan stepped up the ramp, ducking under the overhanging hallway.

"Watch your head," he cautioned, and then disappeared up into the ship.

The inside of the ship was a far different sight than the pretty, if well-worn outside. Baubles and bits of artwork from different cultures adorned the walls. Off to the right in the cargo area there were clearly three small glass orbs containing several well cared for air plants from a variety if planets in different colours and shapes. From the cockpit came a series of warbles and beeps from his astromech, Dante, welcoming him and his guest to the ship. He waved cheerily toward the cockpit and turned right into the cargo area, mostly modified into a flying apartment.

His swoop bike was sat up mounted on a side wall, while the rest of the space was taken up by a small two person dining area by the autochef, sealed shelves of books and datapads, a compact desk and chair set, two wall-mounted folding futons at right angles to each-other, additional baubles and artwork, and a small metal footlocker off in the corner with a hallikset on its stand just beside. Despite the general busy and mixed atmosphere, it was otherwise very neat and clean, the only thing out of place being a half disassembled blaster pistol sitting on the desk beside a closed portable computer.

Perhaps the most unusual detail, however, was the vague sense of song that permeated the walls of the vessel. No music was being played, but even so the ship seemed suffused through and through with the sound of music, the delicate strumming of strings and ringing of a voice. It was something that would quickly fade again into the background as one became used to it, blending in with everything else and the hum of the ship.

The open space was enough to move around, but a training area it was not. Morgan turned to Lyra and waved a hand vaguely into the area. "You may put your things wherever. Please make yourself comfortable." He leaned around the corner of the doorway and looked toward the cockpit. "Start up to get moving," he instructed, the power systems and engines soon after firing up and going through standard pre-flight checks.

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

Lyra quietly walked beside Morgan, her thoughts surprisingly not focused on him or the mission, but more on her own work. There was a coordination calculation she was stuck on before he had arrived, now quickly recalling where she had picked up, but had to file it away until she returned. If she took the moment to write it down now, there would be no end point until she became stuck again and there was no telling how soon that would occur.

Morgan led her to his ship; it had an unusual color combination, but there was a charm to it that she could appreciate. She ducked and followed him inside, avoiding hitting her head, but a bit taken aback by how it was arranged. She stood still for a moment to take it all in, but then she decided to look at things more closely, stepping lightly to look at the various art along the walls; she heard the beeps of an astromech droid and glanced over her shoulder to see the droid greet them. Lyra continued to look around the hull, hearing Morgan inform she could placed her belongings wherever comfortable. Picking a spot out of the way and uncertain if her bag would fit into the meticulous arrangement, she placed her pack on a seat in the dining area for now.

However, there was something even more curious about his ship, hearing the distant sound of music, but its source was possibly coming from a speaker. Lyra was unable to find any place where it would be stronger, but it would not be a bother, only drawing in Lyra's interest to this curious Sith and his ship. She glanced down and saw the hallikset.

"You're a musician?" she asked him, hoping deeply he would have an interest in the fine arts. She felt an eagerness to catch up with someone who shared close to the same interest. Talking with her Master was more like talking at a wall at times and other acolytes in the area didn't seem to think it was an important area to focus any of their knowledge.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Morgan turned away from the cockpit to watch Lyra place her things on the chair, observing the way she looked around the area first. He went to move away again when she spoke, which him golden around to look directly at her. She sounded hopefuly about it, and he glanced over at the hallikset again before a soft smile settled on his face.

"A musician I am," he confirmed, expression shifting into a fanged and confident grin after another moment. One or two were even well known, though they were under an anonymous name or ghost-written rather than attributed directly to Morgan.

"If I play, will you dance along?" he asked with a flash of of golden eyes, then padded off to the cockpit to get the ship moving. He settled into the pilot's seat, clearly not the original model. Morgan had it removed and replaced with a more comfortable chair suited for someone taller, along with the control scheme being altered to fit the new arrangement. A few switches were flipped and power settings arranged to get the ship moving, and before long it began to lift off the ground.

Off the ship flew out of the hangar, avoiding skylanes on an escape vector from the planet while Dante began hyperspace calculations from Eriadu to Eiattu. Morgan hummed a soft, jazzy tune to himself while he worked, keeping an eye on the other ships in the area and keeping settings where they needed to be.

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

He asked if she would dance along if he were to play and Lyra gave a rare wide smile of delight. It wasn't unusual for her to dance to music, she often used it to warm up in a series of drills before falling into her practice routines. Various symphonies filled the training halls in the mornings as she would move with grace, sometimes drawing attention for the right and the wrong reasons. However, there was always more meaning when others joined in whether it be by their choice, or the lure of a siren's call.

Morgan left, and Lyra stood for a moment longer in the hull, her blue eyes falling onto the artwork on the walls before stepping lightly to join the Firrerreon in the cockpit. She took a seat, watching the sky darken as they ascended through the atmosphere and into space. She could hear the soft hum from Morgan just barely over the buzz of the engines while they moved on course for their jump to hyperspace. Her thoughts drifted as she relaxed, thinking about the assignment ahead of them.

"What should I know about the problem we're about to rectify?" she asked him, wanting to be more prepared. The last time she took care of a problem which interfered with her research, things did not go as she expected. However, then at the time, she was a bit more naïve than currently...or at least she hoped. She pulled her knees inward and sat cross-legged in her seat, getting comfortable while turning a lock of her red hair around her finger, waiting for Morgan's reply.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

The humming drifted off to nothing when Lyra asked her question, Morgan's head tilting slightly in her direction. He hadn't been terribly specific about the nature of the issue, so it was a fair question. He flicked over a few controls to direct power toward the ship's stupidly powerful hyperdrive, the astromech behind where they sat whirring a confirmation of readiness.

The ship angled slightly to the right and briefly slowed before the young Sith pulled a lever that sent it shooting forward with a powerful thrum from the hyperdrive, stars stretching into a vast blue blanket across the window. Then his seat and the pilot's controls spread further apart and he turned to face Lyra directly.

"It's a specific criminal problem the ruling monarchy isn't doing much about. I want it solved." Slender fingers tapped absentmindedly against his leg, expression turning to something vaguely thoughtful. "Its a somewhat entrenched problem but I think we can dig it out. It'd take longer without a slicer," he finished, offering Lyra a friendly smile. "Dangerous, of course, but hopefully less for you than me."

Morgan turned his seat the rest of the way around and stood to walk through the connecting hall into the larger area of the ship, sliding his bag of food away from the edge of the table it had gone to when the ship entered lightspeed. It was a good ship for travel, but it was no yacht, and the background hum of the engines was always present even if not intrusive. But at least it didn't draw too much attention.

He sat at the table, retrieving a glossy black ceramic ashtray from a nearby recessed shelf, and pulled a cigarra from a small metal case. It was lit with an arc lighter and a cloud of minty smoke blown out, joining the other smells of herbs, citrus, incense, and food.

"Any questions?"

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

As Morgan positioned the ship, Lyra could hear the hyperdrive engine whine as she watched as the stars stretch and streaked across the viewport until the swirl of blue and violet engulfed the ship. Lyra realized she was grinning to the sight as well as to the thought of flying through stars that had stuck with her since she was a young child. Morgan had then turned to look at her and she felt herself draw a more serious intention as he would explain the reasoning for this mission.

She studied him carefully, looking for his mannerisms to teach her something about him while of course listening. It seemed simple and yet difficult at the same time; she found it interesting and wondered if he had hinted to her about the Sith's interests in taking over Eiattu. Expansion had been slow in general and a small world such as Eiattu seemed underwhelming compared to what they could be looking to gasp.

He got up to return to the larger common space of the ship and Lyra had followed, trying to decide if she had anymore questions, and if she did, was there a need to ask. She felt being too prepared left her vulnerable for unpredictable occurrences and slips in her own judgement from overconfidence. Lyra shook her head, "No, no more questions." she decided she was satisfied with his explanation.

Her attention turned to the artwork he had, looking at it closely, finding some pieces unusual, "I don't think I've seen art like this..." she said taking a step back to see if her perspective change the image.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Darth Stolas]

Smoke drifted steady and slow from between his lips, curling into random patterns in the still air of the ship. With a languid flick his ashed the cigarra and then turned to look over at Lyra. She'd been caught in the grasp of a particular painting, a chaotic arrangement of colours and shapes. No surprise, as it didn't match the style of the others he had on the Chameleon.

Landscapes and still life were much more prominent on the walls, far from full size to allow for more of them in the limited space. The one Lyra was looking was an uncharacteristic abstract, the flurry of hues holding no real meaning that Morgan could discern. But even so, when his eyes glance from Lyra to the painting, a small but cheerful smile lit up his face.

"It barely qualifies as art," he replied affectionately, turning away from the visual cacophony to watch the features of the fiery-haired young woman. Morgan's head tilted slightly, expression briefly thoughtful. Another drag of the cigarra passed, another wispy cloud that danced into the air.

"Dancing is like painting. Don't you think?

@GABA

 

[Darth Tiamat]

Lyra hummed to herself as she tried to decide if he were correct if barely qualified as art. Though it was unorganized, there was something that made everything fit together; and it wasn't the image itself, but one had to admire the careful brushstrokes, the hues that were carefully selected and then decided where to be placed on the canvas. Each color moved in its own direction, clashing against one another, and the longer she looked at it, the more it seemed to come together.

Morgan spoke about dancing and it quickly caught her attention, glancing over her shoulder with a smirk. "I think I could agree." she nodded and stepped closer to one of the still life paintings.

"One must be able to visualize it, then translate it to a new media, to organize and frame, then of course once it's completed, no artist ever believes it was their best work." she explained, remembering even in her most stunning performances, she still did not think it was her best and found flaws in her footwork at several points throughout the show. "I was on track to be principal dancer." she said thinking about her practices and could still feel the eyes of her instructor on her; she turned her attention to another painting on the wall, "I hear some artists are troubled, they carry something heavy within their psyche and it comes out in their work." Lyra turned to look at Morgan to see what he thought.

@Mr. Teatime