A Pyke had patience. Sometimes patience was a forced habit for some. A practiced practice. Not for him. He actually liked it. Like in this instance.
Instead of lifting his finger again, Cul kept quiet and politely stood with his hands behind his back, letting Cheriss do the work and she did not disappoint as she silenced their voices.
Cheriss was correct. People generally did not want to mess with the Pykes. They were ruthless, vicious, fearless contestants who didn’t blink a violet eye in the face of the violent Hutts, but unlike their counterparts they got their hands dirty, and did worse.
Yet you really didn’t want to mess with the Sith. Cheriss had proven this in one sitting when they had first met. With her lightsaber. With her lightning. And again in this setting. With her tendrils of the Force. Power. That’s what she provided. That’s what she displayed. Bridled, but unshackled, power.
“As do we.”
The Sith opened the door and they both stepped forth. If a Pyke was being honest he might have expected some more extensive and sophisticated security systems in place. On the other hand, not only could they be more advanced deeper in, even automated rather than made of man or otherwise, he realized that a place like this was literally hidden to begin with.
A place like this needed few eyes, needed less presence. Cheriss had the power to scramble cameras from a distance, to access computers with her hands in ways that Cul didn’t, but too much surveillance meant too many eyes. Too many blasters meant too many guards. Too many minds meant too much risk of somebody deciding to spill the secrets or sell them to rivals.
A Pyke thinks about this as he walks. He has the time and space to do it down a long hallway and neither he nor the Sith care to talk. Metal on either side. Walls and floor. No doors. It’s dark. A dead end at the end. No guards. No. Not dead. It’s a junction. The corridor splits with signs for either side.
“Labs to the left. Cells to the right.”
Whatever they picked was bound to offer information one way or the other. Labs likely meant where experiments took place. Cells likely meant where specimens, fresh or experimented on already, were being kept for said experiments.
“I pick labs. Cells probably houses every…thing…in a wide variety but labs should have data on experiments—and potentially specimens already being processed.”
They could split up but, at least for Cul, he didn’t really trust Cheriss to share what secrets she would uncover and, if a Pyke is being honest, she shouldn’t trust him either.
@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)
Instead of lifting his finger again, Cul kept quiet and politely stood with his hands behind his back, letting Cheriss do the work and she did not disappoint as she silenced their voices.
Cheriss was correct. People generally did not want to mess with the Pykes. They were ruthless, vicious, fearless contestants who didn’t blink a violet eye in the face of the violent Hutts, but unlike their counterparts they got their hands dirty, and did worse.
Yet you really didn’t want to mess with the Sith. Cheriss had proven this in one sitting when they had first met. With her lightsaber. With her lightning. And again in this setting. With her tendrils of the Force. Power. That’s what she provided. That’s what she displayed. Bridled, but unshackled, power.
“As do we.”
The Sith opened the door and they both stepped forth. If a Pyke was being honest he might have expected some more extensive and sophisticated security systems in place. On the other hand, not only could they be more advanced deeper in, even automated rather than made of man or otherwise, he realized that a place like this was literally hidden to begin with.
A place like this needed few eyes, needed less presence. Cheriss had the power to scramble cameras from a distance, to access computers with her hands in ways that Cul didn’t, but too much surveillance meant too many eyes. Too many blasters meant too many guards. Too many minds meant too much risk of somebody deciding to spill the secrets or sell them to rivals.
A Pyke thinks about this as he walks. He has the time and space to do it down a long hallway and neither he nor the Sith care to talk. Metal on either side. Walls and floor. No doors. It’s dark. A dead end at the end. No guards. No. Not dead. It’s a junction. The corridor splits with signs for either side.
“Labs to the left. Cells to the right.”
Whatever they picked was bound to offer information one way or the other. Labs likely meant where experiments took place. Cells likely meant where specimens, fresh or experimented on already, were being kept for said experiments.
“I pick labs. Cells probably houses every…thing…in a wide variety but labs should have data on experiments—and potentially specimens already being processed.”
They could split up but, at least for Cul, he didn’t really trust Cheriss to share what secrets she would uncover and, if a Pyke is being honest, she shouldn’t trust him either.
@Sicadorito (@Cheriss Ktrame)