Surprise Guest

[Raif]

Royston Spektor let out an audible sigh as he trudged through the halls of the Sith Temple on Korriban. With one hand he reached up to loosen his ridiculously expensive shimmersilk tie, while his other hand was busy pushing Acolytes out of his way. He couldn't blame the children entirely for not extricating themselves from his path; his almost constant use of Force Concealment, almost as unconscious for him as breathing, meant that for most of them they didn't realize he was nearby until he was forcefully pushing them aside.

He let out another heavy sigh as he stumbled down the stone steps towards his personal quarters. It had been a long flight back from Csilla, where he had been continuing one of his "intelligence gathering" operations, but his discomfort had nothing to do with hyperspace-lag. No, this was a discomfort that was all too common for him thanks to his...unique-ness.

The Sith Sorcerer was just turning down the short hallway towards his doorway, and in the middle of imagining how wonderful a nice long bath and glass of Lorrdian brandy would feel, when he finally realized that something just wasn't right.

Instantly his senses were fully alert, and he realized that the door to his quarters was standing slightly ajar.

"Well isn't that curious..."

The Marauder spoke quietly to himself, but his senses were focused outwards. Being the uber-secretive being that he was, Royston didn't have just any old lock on his doorway; no, his was an internal, Force activated catch that should only have been able to be opened by one strong in the Force. As he pondered this, his ears picked up another detail. Was that...music?

"Curiouser and curiouser..."

The Sorcerer strode into his chambers, both his Force signature and footsteps muted to the best of his abilities. He would enter his dwelling like a shadow, so as not to interrupt whoever it was that was violating his personal space.

 

[Sreeya]

Her gentle, thin fingers roamed over the piano keys, as if caressing a lover's smooth skin. She was lost in the music, the piano humming out a sorrowful melody. It echoed within the vast halls of the temple, and she had no care in the world. She had been guided here by the scent of flowers. There were dahlias everywhere, and it made her heart swell with joy..at least the closest she felt to joy. This was an oasis in a vast sea of desert, the small little nook filled with splendid paintings, flowers, music and everything else she loved. She did not know who resided here, but her compulsion to play the piano had overwhelmed any sense of courtesy.

She had been in the room for hours now, playing the piano. She also sang along with it, a lullaby she had often heard. It was beautifully tragic, and she was completely immersed within the music. It had been too long since she had been around beauty such as this, and she had promptly sneaked in to get her fill. She had touched all the paintings, brushing her fingers over them as she had to with all her environment. As soon as she spotted the piano, she immediately began playing a song.

As he arrived into his room, she did not stop singing and playing the piano immediately. The song lulled to a stop and she let the last note resonate throughout the room at last. She did not look back at him, only up at the flowers she had collected from his room.

"I would like to have music played as I take my last breath. It would make the journey so much more peaceful. Don't you agree?"

Without waiting for an answer, she began playing again.

 

[Raif]

Royston felt the breathe escape his lungs as he watched this young female play his piano. His unspeakably expensive, 400 year old antique Chandrillan piano to be specific, but that wasn't important right now.

It was the cold sweat that broke out across his skin, along with the hammering of his heart, that was important. If the girl had been looking, she would have seen a drastic change in Royston's facial expression for but a split second as his self-control slipped momentarily. He had experienced this feeling once before in his life, but for this instance his mind seemed unable to process the significance of the similarities.

Right now his whole universe seemed to focus around this...girl. This acolyte, who had not only gained entrance to his incredibly well-secured personal quarters, but had also somehow pierced right through his Force Concealment and known that he was behind her.

His jaw hung open slightly as she spoke to him without turning. Her statement, while chilling, actually struck a chord with Royston. As a being who surrounded himself with the finer things in life - one needed only to look around his lavishly decorated quarters, a veritable treasure trove of excess and extravagance on this otherwise desolate planet, to understand that - Royston was an avid fan of music of all kinds.

He cleared his throat slightly and walked over to his wet bar before responding to her. As the ice clinked into his glass and he poured himself a glass of 52-year old Whyren's Reserve (no Brandy now, this circumstance called for the harder stuff), the Sorcerer finally found his voice.

"Actually, I completely agree. Music is powerful, given the circumstances. Your music is beautiful, by the way, Miss...?"

Royston had no idea to whom he was speaking, and took a deep sip after leaving the opening for her to identify herself. While he normally would have demanded an intruder like this identify themselves immediately, this was by no means a normal occurance.

 

[Sreeya]

She tilted her head to look at him, considering him for a long moment. She wasn't probing into his mind or attempting to see what he thought. She took him at face value, and decided that he was being genuine. She withdrew from the piano, curiously watching him pour a glass of alcohol.

"Andraste. And thank you. I played as a child. Not many pianos around here."

She rose to stand, grabbing the vase full of flowers. She glanced over at the glass in his hand, scrunching up her nose.

"That stuff is bitter isn't it? I hear it's bad for the body."

She had to bite back a grin at her odd comment, considering that she had inflicted countless injuries to herself. She hugged the flowers close to herself, inhaling the scent deeply.

"May I keep a few dahlias? They are my favorite."

Her politeness was eerie, especially combined with the vacant stare she gave him. However, there were no ulterior motives, no malicious intentions. She truly did have a great love for flowers. She looked down at the flowers.

"Subtle beauty always goes unnoticed. It's always aggression. No one sees the beauty of graceful malice. An oxymoron..but woven together to create chaos in its most tasteful form."

She was not even looking at him as she spoke, slowly walking towards a painting. She smiled at it, tracing her fingers over the trees and river in the painting.

"I wish to go there. Perhaps in death..."

 

[Raif]

Royston snorted into his glass at her comments. She was right, there was a severe lack of fine musical instruments on this hell-hole of a planet, and an equal lack of beings who appreciated the beauty such instruments could create.

He finished gulping down his next swallow before he responded.

"Yes, for some alcohol can be quite detrimental. I'm able to find great pleasure in it, however. And this particular variety is not bitter at all - for how much I paid for it, it had better not be bitter anyway. You're welcome to try some if you'd like."

He watched her with his eyes as she wandered about his chamber. When she requested to keep some of his flowers, he made an open-handed motion, implying that she was free to take as many as she wanted. He could always get more.

Speaking of flowers, he couldn't help but be reminded of a particular plant - the Syren plant of Kashyyyk's dangerous lower levels - as Andraste mentioned 'graceful malice.' It was said to be even more dangerous than it was eye-catching, and Royston couldn't currently think of a better comparison to make with his young guest.

He quickly topped off his glass and walked over to where she stood, gazing up at the large landscape portrait she was currently admiring.

"I'm afraid in death would be the only way you could visit there, child. That's Alderaan, and there in the distance you can see the Killik Mounds that made up the Castle Lands."

Royston glanced down at her out of the corner of his eye, wondering how she would take this news. She didn't strike him as the most stable acolyte he'd ever met, that was for certain, but despite this - or perhaps because of it - he felt a connection with her.

 

[Sreeya]

She simply giggled as he offered her a drink.

"Aren't I too young to drink?"

For some reason she found this to be hysterical. Within moments, she was laughing, the laughter of an innocent child. It took a while for it to die down before he drew the attention back to the painting. The smile did not leave her face though.

"Not if I make my surroundings beautiful. I want to fill everywhere with flowers and paintings and music. That's how the entire universe should be. I want to be the artist!"

She laughed some more, using the Force to switch on some music. It was gentle music, much like what she hand been playing. She quickly wandered over to him and grasped his wrist and tugged him along.

"Death! Chaos! Catastrophe! All of it can mesh as one into one beautiful collage with the gentle hum of instruments in the background. Everything is perfect then!"

She began spinning around, guiding him along. Only he would notice how graceful and precise her motions were, every little movement laced with the Force. She smiled widely, looking up at the decorated ceiling.

"It's heaven here. A watering hole. It's paradise, beauty in the darkest places. Oh, have you killed?! Have you spilled beautiful blood? Has it gently flowed over the floor here? Have you played the piano with bloodstained fingers?!"

She continued guiding him, dancing to the music. It was eerie, but lightnatured all at once.

 

[Raif]

Royston couldn't help but grin as she began laughing. That was a sound one surely did not hear often around these parts, and hers in particular seemed to have an infectious quality about it.

Indeed, Royston seemed to be under her spell as she grabbed him and pulled him into a dance. If he were in a more rational state of mind he would probably be terrified of her in all honesty, but right now he was just being swept along like driftwood in a riptide. After the strangeness of the last fifteen minutes, dancing with this young acolyte seemed ordinary as could be.

Even swept along as he was, he made note of her movements and the way she seemed to naturally use the Force in her every action. Use wasn't even quite the right word, was it? More like...flow with.

Royston's mental sojourn was interrupted when she asked him about killing. How right she was with that question, and in this room as well. These particular quarters just so happened to have been his former master's after all...

Rather than answer her outright, Royston decided to turn it into a bit of a lesson for the acolyte.

"Well Andraste, why don't you tell me? Can you sense death in this room? Can you sense blood?"

 

[Sreeya]

She continued spinning around, laughing with mirth. She guided him through the dance. He was much taller than her, but none of it mattered. She barely touched the ground as she moved. She heard his question and laughed even more, pulling him closer. She was on her toes, twirling around on the floor. She did not look at him, however, always at the ceiling.

"Sense it? My dear, I can smell it. We are bathed in it. It's an ocean...this heaven is swimming with blood."

The flowers began to rise from their vases and off the walls. They all arranged horizontally and began to circle around the duo, all to the pace of the song. It was a stunning sight, considering that she was not directly taking time to manipulate it. She kept dancing with him, finally looking down at the floor.

"The sweetest music emanated from your piano that day. The essence of life forever decorates this room. Why did I come in here, my dear? It called to me. The flowers, the life, the blood, the paintings... all of it. It's on the paintings too, the blood. The frames. The aroma is intoxicating."

She did not notice how her words affected him. She only cared about the music, twirling and dancing and enjoying his company. She felt alive, invigorated, spinning around with all the flowers orbiting them.

 

[Raif]

Andraste's display of raw power in the Force was impressive, to say the least. Royston wasn't sure whether to watch the flowers swirling around his head or watch her; after all, who could predict at this point what she may do next.

Either way, though, the Sith Sorcerer made his mind up that he would definitely be keeping an eye on the development of this particular acolyte. Oh yes, he would monitor her training very closely.

Once again his thoughts were interrupted by her; she seemed to have a peculiar knack for saying just that which would most throw him off. In this case, it was details...details of something which never officially happened. Something which she should know nothing about, and something which Royston did not want coming to light.

He jovial mood was shattered, and his impressive intellect raced to regain control of the situation. Out of the corner of his eye, on one of his many bookshelves covered in various trinkets and doo-dads he had collected over the years, he saw his solution.

Using the Force to help him break free of Andraste's grip, he reached out called the object to his hand. It was a wooden box, intricately carved by the Ewoks of Endor. The box's external beauty was dwarfed by what lay inside, however.

"Andraste, take a look at this and tell me what you think."

 

[Sreeya]

She was pulled back to her current situation when he backed away from her. She kept humming to herself and dancing, letting the flowers flow around her. As he returned, she stopped, her laughter finally dying down. The flowers arranged themselves back to where they had been, though she did not take her eyes off him. She took the box and looked at it confusedly. She ran her finger along it, realizing there was a thin crevice to mark that it opened. She did so and gasped, for a melody began to play. She stared down in wonder as a figurine gently spun in circles to the beautiful music. She was fascinated by this, her face inches away from it.

"It's...marvelous..."

She had never seen a music box before. She closed the box, and opened it again to make the song start over. She sat right there, in the middle of the floor, utterly fascinated by it. She could sit there for hours, simply listening to it.

"You are lucky to have such trinkets. I have nothing but the flowers I rarely find."

She examined the music box further, smiling at it.

"The Force..it shares my views on beauty and catastrophe admixed into one. It's fascinating."

She wondered if he knew what she meant. To her, the Force was alive and an ally, always by her side. It always did her bidding, and she was its master, but the Force was her as well. She was the manifestation of the Force. She only realized parts of it, and the rest was foggy.

 

[Raif]

Royston grinned as Andraste marveled over the music box. He went to take another sip from his glass, then stared at it in disappointment when he realized that it was empty. It was then that he noticed how dry the skin of his hands was becoming.

Setting his empty glass down on a nearby end table, Royston glanced quickly at his guest. Satisfied that she was suitably entranced by the trinket, he strode quickly over to his desk and removed a special vial of lotion from a hidden compartment. As he rubbed it into his hands, he heard her speak up again. He turned to her, his lotion-y hands hidden behind his back and a big smile on his face.

"Well, Andraste, count yourself among the 'lucky.' That particular trinket is all yours."

Royston didn't know exactly why he was doing this. As a collector, he usually had an excruciatingly painful time parting with any of his baubles. Here, though, it just seemed like giving this young lady the music box was what he was supposed to do.

 

[Endling vas Precious]

Andelka stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening with surprise as the sound of music entered her ears.

'Do you hear that, Tuesday? Someone is tickling the ivories.' He brushed against the bare flesh of her calves and she shivered momentarily. 'Should have worn socks,' she said quietly. She had never been in this part of the temple, and she suspected it was for the higher ups. The Marauders and teachers, perhaps? She tugged uncomfortably at her large black sweater, finding the fabric was tugging on her neck. 'Oh shush. All of my other clothes are in the wash, I only had this and the skirt to wear.'

Andelka pushed the invisible cat aside and crept towards the sound, the haunting music growing louder. As quickly as it had started, it had stopped, and she pushed her self up against the wall, wondering if she had been discovered. Whoever was playing was singing, too, and she recognized the voice, though she couldn't remember who they were. Another Acolyte, no doubt. There was a second voice as well. Older, male; a Master? She heard a few names being thrown around. Andraste. Flowers. Blood. Oceans of life. Whoever Andraste was, Andelka liked them.

The door was left ajar, and she shimmied herself closer, craning in her slender neck to peer inside. Brushing her long hair behind her ear, Andelka squinted her eyes. The room was bathed in a warm glow, various trinkets and antiques adorning the walls. She could see the back of a man, wearing smart attire and holding a glass of something. And there was the mysterious Andraste, standing like a forgotten fence post in the wind, examining her current reality like it was a magnificent piece of artwork. The young Acolyte removed herself from the vicinity of the door and pressed her back into the wall once more. Reaching into her skirt pocket, she pulled out her small sketch pad and pencil, and began drawing a myriad of question marks and roses.

Questions and flowers. The perfume of the unknown.

'Shut up, cat,' she whispered. Stuffing the pad back into her pocket, she peered through the crack in the door again. Andelka desperately wanted to join in their conversation, to be a part of whatever it was they were discussing. It was like a nagging demand in the back of her mind. She was terribly lonely here, besides Tuesday, and she had hardly met anyone. Maybe they had heard her? Andelka shook her head.

When the male voice spoke up again, she recognized it to be Royston, the Spymaster. What was Andraste doing here? Perhaps she came for the piano and flowers.

 

[Sreeya]

She listened for a while, smiling at the music box. She only looked up when she smelled the lotion. She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow.

"Ah, Korriban..bad for the skin isn't it?"

She laughed at her own comment, rising to stand. When he mentioned she could keep the music box, she gasped.

"Really?!"

She smiled widely at him. The smile quickly faltered as she feared repurcussions for smiling. Her lord had often sent her sailing across the room for the smallest smiles. She winced slightly, expecting a backhanded blow. When it never came, she relaxed once again. She was about to say something, but suddenly tilted her head to the side, gazing out the door. She saw the silhouette of a cat and heard the quiet voice of a girl. Andraste looked up at the man, blinking.

"Tell me..do you see what the other Sith Lords see in me? Something about my future? I cannot see it..but others can... is there anything you see?"

Her attention was solely on him, but a single dahlia rose from the wall and slowly floated out of the room. Though she did not focus her attention entirely on it, the flower began to hover around the girl with the sketch pad, even dipping low around the cat before rising up against the girl's face. The flower gently circled before wandering back into the room, a subtle invitation for her to join them.

 

[Raif]

Royston could feel genuine enjoyment rising in his heart for the first time in a long time at the sight of this girl's smile. The Sith seemed to surround themselves with nothing but misery and loathing, but Royston, for one, did not feel that being an agent of the Dark side meant you had to turn into evil incarnate.

However, his happy feelings did not mean he wanted to open up completely to this girl, and so he chose not to respond to her comment concerning his lotion. As surreptitiously as he had removed the vial it was slipped back into it's hiding place and he quickly stepped out from behind his desk.

As Andraste asked her next question, Royston's eyes followed the floating flower towards his still open door, and he finally registered that there was another Acolyte out there.

Jesus, man, you're asleep at the wheel! This girl has you spinning ass over tea kettle, and for what? A tingly feeling on the back of your neck? How stereotypical is that; you shouldn't have watched so many holo-dramas on the flight back from Csilla.

Royston stopped mentally berating himself - leaving the new arrival alone for the moment - and pondered Andraste's question. What was it, exactly, that he felt in her? Many many moons from now he would realize that the feeling that washed over him when he met her not so long ago was the exact same feeling he had as a student on Coruscant, studying the history of one Darth Caedus. For now, though, Royston's mind - though gifted as it was in so many respects - simply could not make the connection. So, as he had done countless times in his past, he lied.

"I...I don't know exactly what I see, Andraste. You have some power in the Force, that much a blind Bantha could see, but past that -- who knows?"

Royston again filled up his glass, casting one more glance towards their new as-yet-unannounced guest, before continuing.

"If you want to know what I think, I think at this point it's up to you what your future will hold. If you train, and train hard, maybe you could one day be the most powerful Sith in the galaxy."

The tingle returned, this time stronger than ever, as he said these words but Royston willfully shoved them from his mind and continued what he was saying.

"Speaking of training, I'd be more than happy to help in that regard. I have a few...talents, that a young Acolyte like you might find interesting."

This time, Royston turned towards the door to finish speaking.

"That goes for you as well, young lady. Why don't you come on in, we both know you're here. I'm Royston, but I guess you would know me as Master Spektor. Come now, don't start being shy now."

 

[Endling vas Precious]

Andelka wondered if this was another delusion, for a flower floated out into the hallway, circling around Tuesday and then receding back into the room. An invitation? She could feel Tueday's grip on her shrinking away, and Andelka began to panic.

'Don't go,' she whispered harshly, but Tuesday continued to fade away. 'Please don't go.' She was pleading now. Feeling anger froth up in her like a foaming, angry sea, Andelka angrily scribbled on a blank page. She tore up the blackened piece of paper and shoved it into her pocket. Fear crept up her spine like a chilled hand, threatening to grab a hold of her spine. She shook her head. Now was not the time.

And then a voice. So, they did know she was out there. Royston, formally known as Master Spektor, was beckoning for her to come inside. Smoothing down her skirt, the young Acolyte cautiously opened the door and stepped into the office. Her pale hair and eyes were illuminated starkly by the strange light, and she inspected her surroundings. She self consciously ran her hands through her off-white hair, wondering why exactly she was called in, but inside she felt a secret swelling in her chest. A rare occurrence. She studied Andraste's dark hair and eyes: The two must have looked like a complete contrast if they were placed side by side.

Andelka looked to Royston. He was significantly taller than she was, and all though she found this intimidating she held her ground.

'Thank you for inviting me in,' she said quietly. 'I heard music--lovely playing, Andraste--and I couldn't help but...over hear your conversation. A pastiche of sorts.' She looked up at his face, inspecting his features like she would a piece of art. She didn't know what she was trying to find but she flicked her eyes back to her hands momentarily.

She desperately wanted to call out for Tuesday, ask him for advice on what to say, but he was gone. Panic threatened to set in again. It was hard to act rational when that part of your brain has gone mousing.

'I heard something in regards to Force training,' she could smell alcohol coming from somewhere. 'Are you offering lessons?'

Andelka wavered on her legs uneasily, finding it hard to focus with Tuesday gone. Her turquoise eyes flashed with anger, but she swallowed it down and feigned placidity. She looked up at Royston again, trying to find something for her mind to focus on.

 

[Sreeya]

Andraste noted the pause as Royston spoke of her future. That was what she was looking for! There was always something they saw that made them pause, stagger or fall to their knees. What was it? What did they see? She could tell he was withholding information, but she decided not to press it. She smiled at his next words.

"What kind of talents? I want to know!"

She beamed as the other acolyte walked in. She had sensed her before, but she had left the area before they could be introduced. She smiled as the girl complimented her on her music.

"Thank you! I...what's your name..?"

She felt rather embarrassed that she knew her name, but the opposite was not true. Andraste picked a flower and silently fiddled with it for a moment, curiously watching the girl across from her. She was difficult to read, difficult to piece together. She decided that this fact was fascinating. She also looked up at the older man, wondering what he made of the situation.

 

[Endling vas Precious]

'I have many names,' she said quietly, 'but for now Andelka will do. Andelka Ciemra.' She watched Andraste curiously, watching as she tumbled a flower between her slender fingers. She didn't look much older than herself, maybe sixteen? Seventeen?

There were many different things Andelka could sense in this room. It was old. Very old. It whispered secrets to her like a long, forgotten lover. It was almost sensuous; inviting, like the warm embrace of death. Andelka pondered over this, wondering if the people around her could feel the same. Well, the elder Sith probably knew the inner, most intimate parts of this room, since it was his own--but she was more curious about Andraste's view.

'This room is old.' She traced her small, delicate fingers over the walls. 'It has many secrets, no?' The Acolyte looked to Royston, watching his face with the cunning intellect of a predatory beast. 'It whispers to me, but they are secret.' Andelka had run her fingers until the stopped beside Royston. She looked to Andraste. 'Do you feel it?'

 

[Raif]

Royston took a moment to regard the newcomer as she entered his chambers. She seemed almost as unhinged as his original guest, Andraste. Batshit crazy seemed to be the new it thing among the Sith, though, so who was Royston to complain? Besides, if everyone around him was crazy, didn't that make him the abnormal one? Royston could feel the beginnings of a headache creeping up as these and other thoughts flooded his mind.

I really need to invest in a better door lock. And maybe a Rancor.

Turning back to Andraste as she spoke, Royston grinned slightly as the young girl asked him about his 'talents.'

"Oh, just a few...peculiar qualities that have served me well over the years. A little bit of this, a little bit of that, you know."

As he spoke, Royston called on the Force to conjure a blazing inferno in his oversized stone fireplace. Then, just as quickly as the fire appeared, the Marauder called the flames to his hand where a bright, white-hot ball burned for just an instant and then poofed out of existence. His grin widened into a full blown smile, hoping his little parlor trick had piqued the acolyte's interest. He then turned to the other girl, Andelka, to respond to her.

"Yes, this room is a secret wrapped inside an enigma surrounded by a conundrum. But we're all entitled to our secrets, aren't we?"

As he spoke, Royston could feel his discomfort growing. As much as he was enjoying this little reverie with the acolytes - at least, the parts of it that weren't mind-bogglingly insane - he needed to go so he could attend to his own secrets.

"And on that note, girls, I'm afraid I really must retire for the night. Even one as handsome as me needs his beauty sleep you know. If you're interested in that training, though, I will be in the South sparring room tomorrow morning after breakfast. If I see you there, I will assume you want my tutelage. If not, oh well."

Royston turned slightly, signalling with his body language that they two young girls were dismissed. He then quickly glanced back over his shoulder, hoping to catch the two before they had gone.

"And one last thing for each of you. Andraste, I would consider it an honor if you were to play my piano again. But please, do it while I'm here. Is that understood?

And Andelka, next time be a doll and announce yourself when you're eavesdropping on my conversation. Either that, or become a damned sight better at concealment than you are now; a drunked Rodian would have known you were there almost as quickly as I did."

 

[Raif]

Royston stood in the South sparring room, waiting. He had been up since just before dawn, first getting himself fed and then preparing the room. It hadn't taken him long to get things in order for this training session, but he hoped things wouldn't be for naught.

His little chat with the two girls last night hadn't been the most orthodox of meetings ever, and it had ended rather abruptly. That couldn't be helped, though, given Royston's...necessities. Now, though, he was refreshed and looking forward to passing on some knowledge to the acolytes. Hopefully, they showed up.

If they did, Royston knew it would be worth it for them. He may not be the most powerful Sith - at least not yet - but he was damned powerful when it came to Force powers. He had never taught before, though, so this would be a day of new experiences for all involved.

 

[Endling vas Precious]

She usually got up early in the morning. It was part of her routine. Sleep in, and her dreams were too vivid and nightmarish: Disrupt the REM cycle and carry on. Stretching in her small bed, she checked the rest of the sleeping area in the dormitory. There were few sleeping, lost in dreams and snow. Others were probably out training, or on missions. Tuesday was already up and about, sitting on the windowsill that over-looked the wastes of Korriban. Pulling on her robes, she strode over, petting his back.

'See the courtyard? There are flowers there. A special species that thrive on despair of the sands. Beautiful, aren't they?'

Tuesday said nothing, and she frowned, wondering what was occupying his mind.

The dining hall was mostly deserted as well. Andelka wondered if The Sith prided themselves on making coffee. That would be a good comic strip: Two Sith Lords discussing politics by a coffee machine. Add Storm Troopers and a water machine in the office and you've got yourself a good running gag. Tuesday was chuckling as she found some strange canister filled with fragrant leaves. Tea?

The South sparring room was easy enough to find. Opening the door, she stepped inside, two steaming cups in hand as she inspected area. Sure enough, there was Master Spektor looking as if he were enjoying his own private music. The young Acolyte wondered what ran through the head of an older Sith.

'Good morning Master Spektor,' her voice was quiet over the hum of her own thoughts. She tugged at her clothing, finding the tight black leggings rather annoying. The simple dark-brown robes came down down just above her knees, and around her waist was a black belt which she was guessing all Acolytes were given. There was a holster for a lightsaber, a few small pouches; she could probably fit more marbles in there for making flowers. Taking a final sip from her mug, she took a clip from her pocket and messily pinned her hair up.

'I don't know if you drink tea, and I'm not sure whose tea that was I found in the dinning hall--things should be properly labelled--but it's a small token of my gratitude,' she outstretched her slim pale hand towards him, 'for teaching us.'

She looked to him, turquoise eyes surprisingly calm. Her dark lips were pulled into a small smile - for once a flicker of emotion.

'I have not seen Andraste around, have you seen her?'