Ask Secrets and Rumors

[Arla]

Arla's mouth hung open just a tiny bit as she looked up at the lightning-casting, bird-flying man. She was impressed, and now far more interested in the man they were seeking, but first they needed to deal with the problem in front of them.

Nakoa had already leapt to the attack, letting the earth begin to swallow the men up and Arla took full advantage of their panic. With the village already in blazing flames, half her work was already done.

She reached out both of her hands, letting the fires from the building leap from their structures and swarm around some of the thugs as they began to run. They would find themselves absorbed in it, the power of her pyrokinesis amplifying the natural flames so that it would cling to the clothes and skin of the unfortunate victims. Loud cries rang out and filled the air with shrill sounds of death.

Between lightning, earth, and fire, the village had turned into an utter pit of death and the soldiers began to run screaming for any kind of cover they could find. They didn't even know who was attacking them let alone have the ability to fight back effectively.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa felt quiet awe at high much stronger Arla seemed to have grown since their last meeting. The Wrean had learned a lot, but he didn't feel like he could pull something even resembling her usage of pyrokinesis without incantation and deep focus. It was very impressive to his eye. One day, perhaps.

The soldiers weren't impressed. Mostly because they were either on fire or dead, but also because they didn't know the cause for this elemental retribution that'd be called down upon them. Some perhaps thought it was divine vengeance. Though, they were just in the way. Nakoa thought that was funny, quietly chuckling to himself out of nowhere.

One who had managed to avoid the flames and mud by diving into a blasted-up house ran away. Into the corn field, unfortunately for them. Nakoa adopted a sharp expression and waved a flat-palmed hand, the air shimmering between himself and the soldier. After a short delay, their left leg sprayed blood like it'd be cut by a blade and they fell to the ground.

"Mine now," Nakoa informed the soldier as he plucked their rather nice blaster pistol off their belt. There was a lot of begging involved while the shaman tried to figure out the safety switch. With an irritated sigh he flipped the pistol around. "Shush." He cracked him over the skull with it and moved on with life.

The village was free of soldiers. Many died to the complications that arose from being on fire, although a few poor unfortunate souls choked to death on blood-soaked mud. On the village's other side, for some reason, lightning was still occasionally falling around the same place. Nakoa strode in that direction.

Peeking around a house's corner he found... A Sith, of all things? Or at least, someone with a red lightsaber dodging sky-born lightning bolts.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

While Nakoa may have been pondering what the soldiers thought, Arla didn't even give them a second thought. She had a goal, and she would work her way through them until they fell under her feet or fled from before her. There was no remorse or hesitation.

Nakoa moved for the final one, and Arla turned her attention toward the skies. More lightning bolts came raining down but not at the two of them, instead at a Sith, much to Arla's surprise.

For a moment, she stood there, simply watching the exchange unfold. She wanted the knowledge the eagle-rider had, but she wasn't eager to start killing Sith, either. Though, she didn't know who this person was or what they wanted. Was it even relevant or just another person in her way?

Ultimately, Arla settled on the fact that the man was the latter: an obstacle in her way and possibly a tool she could use to gain the trust of the eagle-rider.

As soon as the decision was made, she moved immediately, the Force flowing through her and into the ground at the man's feet. She threw her hands up into the air and as she did, spikes of earth burst up, piercing the Sith through the legs and causing him to cry out in pain. She had no intention of stopping and would kill him if Nakoa didn't get to it first.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Crying out, the strange Sith would've dropped to his knees from the pain of his injury if he weren't propped upright by stone spikes through his legs. Nakoa strode over to him, brows raised slightly in an expression of recognition, mirored on the Sith's face through the pain. "You-!?" "Not this time, actually. Her." Nakoa thumbed toward Arla. This explanation didn't seem to make the Sith feel any better.

With no further hesitation, he grasped the man by the throat and pushed him down, leg injuries exponentially worsening since the Sith's legs didn't want to bend that way. The Wrean shaman squeezed the delicate flesh and pulled, ripping the Sith's throat out entirely and turning his screams into panicked gurgling. He tossed the pound of flesh aside and left the man to die on his own time. Nakoa picked the lightsaber up to examine it.

"So primitive," Nakoa dismissed, tossing the weapon into the mud like garbage. He wiped stray blood off on the Sith's tunic and stood back up, eyes turned to the sky. Clearly, he didn't have a moral issue killing Sith. Far above, the bird-riding individual began to circle downward.

Their animal mount was larger than most speeders, with a wingspan to rival the length of small freighters. It landed in a rush of wind. From its back climbed down a tiny, old woman wrapped in layers of robes and scrap cloth. In a weathered, gnarled hand she held a gnarled wooden staff significantly taller than herself. Her eyes were striking; electric blue, like the morning sky brightened by sunlight. They observed the two strangers, difficult to read.

"Why are you here?"

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla caught the conversation between Nakoa and the Sith as her eyes darted around the area. The soldiers all seemed to be dead, and Arla moved around, kicking at some of the bodies to make sure they didn't move while Nakoa... oh, well he ripped the man's throat right out, didn't he?

You knew him? she asked, though the conversation was cut short by the beast that came swooping out of the sky with an old woman on its back. She was much smaller than Arla expected, and she stared the woman down as she asked what brought the two of them here.

Arla didn't answer at first, casting her eyes around the burning village at everything that had happened. Well, they certainly hadn't come to live with the locals.

We are here to talk to you about your powers. And to learn, she said. It was a strange thing. Arla wasn't one to want to share her Nightsister knowledge, but there was other information she could share with others. A bartering as it were. If they were refused... that would be another issue, perhaps. Arla had come a long way to learn this information. Would she just leave if she were refused? It was difficult to say, but she hoped it wouldn't come to that.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

"Briefly," was all Nakoa said before the old woman landed, considering it a conversation for another time. To the bird-riding individual's credit, Arla's intense staring was met with... nothing, no reaction at all. The woman's own bright-eyed stare could even be unnerving itself, like she was staring straight through the two offworlders.

"Just so. We're scholars." Blue eyes glanced from one figure to the next and back again. "I haven't taken students in a century," she stated, tapping her too-tall stave on the ground. Wrinkled lips moved from side to side as if chewing carefully on her thoughts to savor the flavors and subtle notes.

"Why did you defend this village?" she asked after a solid twenty seconds of silence, expression giving nothing away.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla was surprised to find that she almost immediately liked the other woman. She seemed completely unflappable in her response to Arla's way of communicating, and it was almost refreshing compared to the uncertainty and squeamishness she received from so many people.

Arla filled the twenty seconds of silence with an intense look at the other woman. She was clearly a woman of the wilds not unlike a Nightsister. Maybe she was more comfortable with animals than other people. She was also old, and yet had a sensation in the Force that was full of vibrant energy. Maybe she had used some techniques to extend her life or maybe there was something more to it than that.

The staff in her hand may have been a simple walking stick, but Arla doubted it. She had a feeling that it was something more than it appeared. Everything about her felt like more than it appeared.

And yet Arla found herself curious, almost startled as she was shaken from her thoughts by the question. Why did they help? Why did it matter? Arla's reasons were her own, and this woman didn't need to know them.

The Nightsister frowned for a moment before shrugging. Just decided to, she said. The woman didn't look thrilled with Arla's answer, but she doubted the woman ever looked that thrilled.

Can I expect this helpful of responses if I choose to teach you? How about you? Are you able to better articulate why you chose to help the village? she asked Nakoa with a frown. Surely he would be growing tired of being the one to always have to be helpful in conversations, but he had to know by this point that it wasn't likely to change.

Why should I spend my time teaching you anyway? There are people who need my help, she said.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa didn't believe they could be less surprised by Arla's answer. It was so aggressively Arla, and beyond that, he felt he understood it. Amber-gold eyes glanced from Arla to the old woman. The Wrean took a small breath, face shifting from what was best described as 'bored' to a vaguely polite smile. "We came here to find you. You defended the village, so we decided to help. As prospective students, your obstacles are ours."

Despite his general disdain for niceties, they were clearly something he was used to. They got things done from time to time. Whether he was growing tired of speaking up for Arla would be unclear to the Nightsister, as inscrutable as ever. "You don't have to do that." Nakoa blinked bemusedly, but she didn't elaborate.

"If I am to teach you, you will help me in turn." The woman's tone didn't sound like it invited much argument.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Even Arla wasn't surprised by the woman's statement. Nothing in the galaxy was free, and she had expected to have to do some task to earn the knowledge. She just wished that the village saving would have been enough. Of course not.

We expected as much, Arla said flatly. Favor for a favor unless you wanted to go the full Sith route and rip it from her mind, but given the state of Mr. Impaled-Legs she thought that might not be the best course of action.

First, you can get around to helping patch up the injured while I figure out what your first lesson will be, the woman said.

Arla turned to look over at the village, not feeling anything particularly strong for the villagers. She didn't necessarily wish suffering on them, but the galaxy was filled with suffering. Everyone died eventually.

Arla turned and headed off to do as she was instructed, glancing back to make sure Nakoa was there too.

So how did you know the Sith? she asked, evidently still curious about the exact answer to that question.

@Mr. Teatime

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa nodded as the short, bent-over old woman hobbled off elsewhere in the village. Medical skills were among those taught to his shamanic sect. He'd found them useful during his relatively short service in the Imperial military, and further abroad as a nomadic soul out in the galaxy. People largely trusted medics and doctors.

When Arla looked back at him he was knelt down by a bit of native plantlife, examining it and picking a few young leaves from the bush's outermost branches. He quickly caught up again, eyebrows raising at Arla's question as if he'd forgotten about the dead Sith.

"I crippled his brother." There was a short silence after that statement, by all appearances done with his explanation. But as usual, and by now Arla could recognize this, he was arranging his thoughts and, most likely, remembering that he should probably elaborate on what he said. "As a student from a foreign sect, a test was required. His brother didn't like me- they were typically Serrenian- and handled the combat segment."

Nakoa paused to pull a small, cigarrette-shaped root from a belt pouch and clamped it between his teeth, chewing thoughtfully. A sweet and slightly bitter smell wafted from it. "We'd had a few encounters since. It was a fun little game. Shame he lost." Although a nuisance, it'd be an entertaining factor to plan around during Nakoa's travels. Especially since apparently, he was working with bandits now. He wondered if the crippled brother was still alive somewhere after the Imperial split.

As for the villagers, finding the injured wasn't difficult. They were scattered around and beginning to organize into loose piles in and around the town hall, a wooden building with a large hole blown through one wall. Nakoa would stride right in, subtly sniffed the air, and abruptly divert himself toward the leftmost side where a small child was laying in a pool of their own blood. Their right arm had been obviously burned off by a lightsaber.

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla, too, had a basic understanding of medical aid, but even more than that she knew how to get people out of dangerous situations. She moved to start dragging people into the clear from the burning buildings, though more than a few of them appeared to have permanently mangled limbs and legs.

She pulled out her own medpack and started bandaging up the worst of the bleeding, uncaring about the fact that blood was now covering her hands. She listened to Nakoa's explanation, seemingly unperturbed by the fact that he had maimed the man. If it was agreed upon, then who was she to judge?

Once the bandage was finished, she washed her hands down and watched him pull something from his belt and pop it in his mouth.

They kept about their work for a while, Nakoa going over to help a small child while she went to work on some of the adults. After nearly three hours, they had finally finished up and Arla finally plopped down on a non-destroyed chair and pulled out some jerky.

Do you still consider yourself Sith? If you felt they had something to offer would return? she asked out of the blue. Her mind had been far away wrapped up in many things over the months since the Imperial split.

 

[Nakoa Singh]

Nakoa worked in silence as the hours passed aside from a few words toward others treating the wounded. At last, everything was bandaged together and the Wrean found himself squat flat-footed near Arla, not bothering to find a chair. Now smelling much more strongly of herbs on account of handling them, he was working at thoroughly cleaning his hands when Arla abruptly asked her question.

He finished wiping his hands down and then wordlessly held a hand up for a piece of jerky. "Yes. Maybe." It took a few moments further, but as usual, he eventually took the time to elaborate on his answer with Arla. "I follow the code as I understand it. I would consider an offer if an Order of Sith had one." Nakoa was very much a man of context. His answer could vary wildly depending on the details of any situation.

Well chewed by now, he pulled the licorice root from between his fangs and tossed it into the mud. Amber-gold eyes turned to look at the Nightsister. "Why?" he asked, brows raised curiously. Nakoa's ambitions were largely self-serving but had little to do with rulership or martial conquest. His ambitions were knowledge and subtlety.

Arla, on the other hand, had lost planets under the influence when the Empire broke into pieces under the weight of war. Perhaps she had such ambitions still?

@Phoenix

 

[Arla]

Arla considered what he said as they settled in to rest. Like with most things, what she did was turning out to be a delicate balance, and while she'd left the Sith behind and felt most of them were useless to her, Nakoa was one of the few who she genuinely liked and saw potential in.

Because I still have resources, and if I can pull them together, I could use someone with your skills, she said, letting the information hang in the air. Truthfully, she didn't have the details yet but she wanted to plant the idea in his mind for rumination.

Still in the works, she said with a shrug after a moment.

---​

Their time on the planet was... interesting to say the least. The Wizard had some ideas that Arla hd never heard of before, and pointed her on the path of information about a "world between worlds." She had heard her mother mention such things before, though precisely what it meant was still a mystery to her.

Nevertheless, it proved profitable enough, still. Selling off the remainder of the things the Sith owned and his mercs owned would turn a decent profit, and that was a win in Arla's mind. But perhaps the greatest advantage was a potential renewal of an old ally. Time would tell how their paths were intertwined.