The Devil's Silver Tongue

[Bartleby Orem]

In the days since he'd come back to Coruscant, Orem had busied himself with various paperwork; partly out of a mild, simmering anger at how the Director of Imperial Intelligence had so easily brushed him aside. He'd always been nothing but loyal, yet Esalis had chosen to extend a hand of... kindness? to K'vik. The force-user was a menace, and the Director was treating her as though she was a guest!

And now; now was a further injustice in his own mind. Being sent to K'vik's new quarters to fetch the woman for another meeting with Esalis. He was no lackey, but he was also committed to his duty, and so the Imperial stoically obeyed.

His stride took him through what seemed to be a maze of corridors, up into the higher levels of an unassuming apartment complex that rose with the upper echelon scrapers that shaped Coruscant's skyline.

His polished boots and crisp, wrinkle-free grey uniform were immaculate. He was the very picture of Imperial order.

Stopping in front of a door marked 730E-K, Orem took a breath through clenched teeth before reaching a hand out to depress the door chime.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She was not a contortionist, but her flexibility was rather beyond average. The bottom of Mili's torso was six inches below her ankles, supported by pillows. Her body was nearly flat of on the floor. She poured over the available information that Esalis had provided on Prent and his crew, and on the current state of the galaxy.

The Director had been surprisingly forthcoming with information, and had also been generous with Intel's training facilities, with one important exception: no live weapons were to be in her presence. Some of the equipment that had been created in the centuries she had missed was rather interesting. After embarrassing a few of the Empire's finest, Mili was politely shooed away to allow the scheduled training regimen continue.

The chime sounded, and Mili made no move to turn down the well composed pop tune that played at a comfortable, background volume. She could hear him breathing through the door, and pushed the open/close toggle with the Force.

“What is it, Bartleby?” She asked as the door slid open, her voice thrown from the ceiling. Milivikal pushed her torso six inches above the floor and brought her legs over her head and rolled to her feet in a fluid motion.

“Well?” She asked, hands on her hips.

[Bartleby Orem]

It grated on his ears to hear her use his name. No one used his name; not even what pitiful few friends he had. And to listen as this woman called him just that, he idly wished for his stun baton. His hands clutched each other at the small of his back, and he refused to look at her. Instead, Orem stared straight ahead into the interior of the front room. He refused to step inside; to do so would mean - to him at least - that he approved of her newfound status.

And as much as her using his name was unacceptable, her voice itself was without a doubt alluring. Not enough to pull at him completely however.

He cleared his throat.

"The Director wishes to know if you have finished reading the materials that she provided."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal paused, enjoying his discomfort. It was the least she could do after all he had done to her. The ugly bruises and shock marks still showed on her porcelain skin revealed by her halter. Look at me, you parasite, and understand the mistakes you made. His eyes flickered over her briefly, but his will took back over quickly. He would be a tough one.

“Please inform the Director that I have read all of the material provided.” She answered, her voice as smooth and warm as the finest Corellian whiskey.

[Bartleby Orem]

Orem clenched the muscles of his jaw. In the brief glance he'd taken of her, it was obvious that his marks were still upon her. His marks. His handiwork. And he was proud of them. He'd marred her once clean skin and taken pleasure in it. And, for the briefest of moments, he took pleasure in seeing them still manifested.

Professionalism took ahold of him once more.

"She wishes to know then, if you feel well enough to begin searching for Mr. Prent."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Obviously the Director's other machinations had failed to produce anything. Prent was, by most measures, a seemingly average man who was traveling with a rather exceptional Jedi. Prent was not all he seemed, Milivikal concluded. A man who wielded a Maladorian Shell Gun and shot the Imperial Director of Intelligence drew that conclusion for her. Aside from his mechanic/co-pilot companion, Cirreseeto, a burly Cizerack, and someone who was likely another Jedi, the rest of the crew was a mystery.

One thing k'Vik did not fully understand was why Esalis wanted a Lupine so badly. There were other intelligents in the Galaxy that could change form.

“I am well enough.” No thanks to you. Her cold, light blue eyes bore at him like an artic wind.

[Bartleby Orem]

It was then that Orem did look at her. His eyes locked with hers, and his face remained impassive as he stared - now unabashedly - into her clear blue gaze. He blinked, then allowed a tight-lipped smirk to play across his features.

A bow, and he took a step inside, closing the door behind him.

"Since that is the case, I will wait for you to dress yourself. Director Esalis wished to meet with you once you were finished. And seeing as how you are... "

He let his voice trail off, and breathed in deeply as his hands once more resumed their position behind his back.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Never much for modesty, Milivikal stripped and changed quickly to more conventional undergarments than the restrictive halter and leggings.

Esalis had provided several uniforms tailor cut to Milivikal's slender measurements. The custom cut hugged her tighter than a standard issue would. All were black, per the Director's request. She pulled one on over the skintight undershirt. She looked herself over, and smiled at Orem.

“I think,” She said, with a slight pause, “that this suits me better than it does you.”

[Bartleby Orem]

Eyes narrowing, Orem moved his arms from his back to cross them over his chest as he gave her a gruff harrumph.

"That uniform does not make you an Imperial."

His voice became almost gravelly as he went on.

"You can play dress-up with the Director's gifts all you want, but that changes nothing. You're a disposable tool; nothing more, nothing less.

"Don't over-inflate your ego any more than you already have.

"Now. Put your boots on."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

“My ego?” Milivikal snorted, a sound she managed to make border on pleasant. She slid her boots on, and the door opened itself up again.

“Do not fool yourself, Bartleby” she watched him cringe ever so slightly. “you are presently even more disposable to your Director than I. Better to be a tool than an unwitting, over-eager pet.” The disdain in her voice was evident.

[Bartleby Orem]

Allowing K'vik to exit first, Orem followed after her at a clipped pace that brought him beside her.

"I would caution you, Milivikal," he stressed her own first name as she had his, "... to not mistake a single part of the machine as dispensible. I may be only a single gear in the Imperial engine, but you are an outside, foreign object." The low rumble of disapproval was blatant in his tone.

They stepped into the lift that would take them down to the complex's lobby.

"I am continually needed, whereas you... " he reached out to press the touchpad, and the doors whooshed shut.

"... are not."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She stared at him, numerous strings of insulting language vying for attention, but her face remained impassive. Instead, she chose to hold her tounge. How could anyone boast of being a cog?

Milivikal said no more, but instead flashed him a wicked white grin before they were clear of the lift.

Out of the lift, she held her head confidently. She was going to bring the Director her Lupine.

[Bartleby Orem]

As they walked across the lobby to the double doors leading outside, Orem took a small bit of satisfaction from Mili's silence. She had a barbed tongue, and for his own peace of mind he had avoided her. Which made it a bit more than a chore when the Director had ordered him to chaffeur K'vik to this most recent meeting.

He opened the door, almost stepped through first, then thought the better of it. Instead, he held it open and motioned for Mili to go through first.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Mili inclined her head politely and slipped through the door.

She moved crisply and smoothly until she was standing before the Director in front of her desk. Seeing Esalis made Milivikal yearn for her saber. It was an elegant weapon perfectly matched to herself.

Yet she waited for the Director to speak, sensing it was the wiser course of action. k'Vik could rain her impulsivity in if needed.

[R. S. Esalis]

During the time that K'vik had been reading and studying the files given to her, Esalis had been healing. She no longer needed a cane to walk, and what little residual chest pains she had were quickly fading.

Sitting behind her desk, the Director of Imperial Intelligence did not look up from her reading as the door opened to admit Mili and Orem. Her desk, usually free of clutter and other various datapads, was now scattered with loose leaf hardcopies, 'pads, datacrystals, and every other imaginable item one would think of as being associated with an intelligence agency. It was obvious that Esalis had poured herself into her work.

But her eyes were still sharp, and the gentle lines of her face belied her true nature.

Without looking up, Esalis spoke.

"You have finished reading the materials I sent to you then?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"I have." Milivikal stated. If Esalis wanted her out in the field, that was fine with her. Jabbing at the dullard Orem lost it's lustre quickly. Imperial cheerleading was nauseating. She pulled her hands behind her back to keep from fidgeting, or smacking Orem for being such a twit.

Fortunately, the Director rarely dallied without need, so Mili hoped she would be on her way soon.

[R. S. Esalis]

"Very good."

Esalis looked up then, and leaned back in her seat. Her eyes locked with Mili's; ice blue with ice blue. Pursing her lips, the Director let her hands rest palm-down on the desktop while breaking her gaze from K'vik's to look past her at Orem. The man stood at attention, his eyes forward without meeting Esalis'.

Turning her attention back to Mili, she went on.

"Do you have any preferences on what ship you use."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal paused.

"I must be smaller than a bulk freighter and I must to be able to fly it alone. I have no other requirements." k'Vik answered. The ship never really played much of a role in her plan. In a pinch, she could manage a ship designed to be piloted by three, but it was not something she enjoyed doing. The solo pilot requirement meant it would likely be smaller than 100 meters in length, which was good. She had limited experience with larger ships.

[R. S. Esalis]

Esalis nodded, never taking her eyes from the other woman.

"And what tools do you desire."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal's choice of tools were far more planned than her choice of ship.

"I have a list." She produced a data chit from her jacket. Most of it was pedestrian. A good blaster rifle, a hand blaster, a few standard Imperial survival kits, food, liquids, boots, and similar. The normal "very long trip" essentials. However, there were some more exotic choices, like a pair of somewhat obscure throwing knives, two hundred meters of climbing cord, and a minimalist jewelers kit.

[R. S. Esalis]

Accepting the chit, Esalis pulled a datapad toward her. Idly reading through K'vik's list, she nodded to no one in particular. Everything that the other woman wished to have for her mission was easily supplied.

"I will be sending one of my own to accompany you," she started idly.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

k'Vik pursed her lips together. This was not something she wanted or had expected. In fact, this would change her plans drastically. She turned her head slowly toward Orem and brought her gaze to bare on him for a moment. Her head flicked back to the Director.

"Whom, if I may ask?"

[R. S. Esalis]

The Directorlooked across her desk at Mili from over the tops of her eyes. It was not a stern gaze, but more one bourne of curiosity. She had seen the look Mili had given to Orem, and the man's sternly returned stare. It was no real task to divine how much the two despised each other.

Leaning back in her chair, Esalis lofted a single eyebrow.

"Why, Orem, of course."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Orem! It had to be Orem!

Milivikal's fists clenched together as she forced her rage down. She wasn't going to bother to ask if success was contingent on him returning alive. The answer would be, yes, of course it was. Why did she ask? Would this be a problem?

Sithspit! Bloody Sithspit!

"When do we leave?" Milivikal said, her voice as smooth and sweet as ever.

[R. S. Esalis]

The reaction was small, but it was there enough for Esalis to see. Even Orem had been taken by surprise, his eyes narrowing and his stance going a bit more rigid.

She wondered then, if Orem would even return; either whole or otherwise. He was loyal, but the Director had a bit of a sadistic streak that at times had to be exercised.

"You may leave when you are ready," she said evenly. "Orem will make sure all of you equipment is supplied.

"Is there anything else?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"No, thank you." Still sweet.

Milivikal turned on her heel, and the door flung itself open. She bit her lip, distracting herself with the pain so she did not vibrate the building into rubble.

[Bartleby Orem]

A quick salute, and Orem followed after Mili. He did not relish the thought of having to spend any amount of time k'Vik, just as she felt about him. But, the Director had given the order, and he would follow it dutifully.

It did not mean, however, that he had to like it.

The door to the director's office closed behind him, and he stalked after Mili. A part of him wondered if the Force user had bewitched Esalis into sending him, and he was not shy of voicing that opinion.

"What manner of spell did you place on the Director that she would send me with you."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal turned, her hands in fists at her sides, her chin down towards her chest. She glared at him from underneath her brow. Her arms shook from the rage at the thought of being near him.
"Shut. Up." Each word seemed to take on a solid, physical quality of rough stone. Orem felt each one vibrate his bones. He stopped in his tracks.

"You have my assurances you that you are the absolute last person I wanted with me for this task. Your Director acts entirely of her own will, and very few who use the Force could change that." Milivikal growled. She turned again, headed for her temporary quarters.

"Inform me when the ship and equipment is ready."

[Bartleby Orem]

Watching her walk away, Orem glowered at k'Vik's back. She was very nearly the devil incarnate, and his own fists clenched in a barely controlled rage.

Turning on his heel, he headed in the opposite direction of Mili. He would inform her, but not out of any sort of duty he felt to her. No, he would do as the Director had ordered. Nothing more, nothing less.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal returned to her quarters and immediately stripped to her bare skin. She stood under the sonic shower and scrubbed. Orem was vile, and the director was a henious, awful being. Mili had half expected a watch dog, but not him. She scrubbed more, her pale skin took a pinkish tone, and she stopped before she would bleed. She donned a loose fitting pair of pants and a halter, and headed for one of the exercise rooms.

Mili wrapped her feet and hands in tape, tight enough where it began to ache. Her hands closed into fists, forcing the material to stretch a little. She began to smack the heavy bag, it's dead weight nearly as heavy as she was. Each blow landed with a solid thud against the bag's skin. His skin. Each hit landed against Bartleby's body. Each twist of the fist cut him. Intially, she dodged and weaved, but after the better part of an hour, it devolved into a brutal pounding. k'Vik hit the bag as hard as she could each time.

[Bartleby Orem]

The journey to his own quarters was a silent affair, his fingernails cutting into his palm, his knuckles white. The door to his provided rooms slid open without a sound, and he stepped just inside to let it close behind him. In one motion a fist lashed out, slamming into the button that would lock the door, and he turned about to pound the other on the now-locked door.

Once. Twice. Again and again. That woman!! That horrid, spiteful, damnable woman!! She was a scheming creature, and Orem wanted nothing more than to have her in a force cell once more, strung up like a gutted Ithorian hog. He would bruise her near-perfect skin even more than it was now, and she would thank him after each blow, then ask for another.

Turning on his heel, the Imperial stalked deeper into his quarters before lowering himself angrily onto a leather-cushioned sofa. A datapad sat on a low table in front of him, its' screen devoid of life.

Snatching it up, Orem thumbed it on. He would do as he had been ordered.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

The rage had been building with each blow. Milivikal's face contorted, her teeth bared as every muscle strained against its counterpart. Her jet black hair clumped together with sweat, flying around her face like strands of rope in a tempest. With an ear-shattering yell, she hit the bag again. Dense gel leaked from the impact point and directly behind, as if the bag had been hit with a classical cannon.

Her chest heaved as she stared at the broken bag, wishing for every instant it was Orem. She flipped the folding vibroblade from her pocket, slicing the wrap perfectly from her hands and feet.

Back in her quarters, she showered again. She donned black slacks and a tight white shirt, and wore her black jacket open. Much of what she requested had been confiscated and cataloged by Intel already. Hopefully Orem would have everything ready soon so she could be rid of him sooner rather than later.

[Bartleby Orem]

He had procurred all of what had been requested, including the ship that Mili had asked for. That he was to accompany her was torture enough, and the Imperial was sure to add in a few items for himself should he need to reiterate who it was that she was working for.

In his mind, Mili was under his order just as much as she was under the director's, and he planned to make sure that she well understood that fact.

His own meager traveling supplies had already been sent ahead; uniforms and other sundries, and with a 'pad tucked into the crook of his arm, Orem stepped from his quarters. With a clipped pace he began heading through the maze of corridors and lifts that would take him to where Mili had been placed.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Mercy, at last. She could hear his footsteps. Milivikal walked out of the door before Orem got too close. If there was any surprise, he hid it well. She considered killing him, right now. The knives in her boots would float free into her hands, and be flung into his stomach and lung, just below the heart. Bartleby would writhe and yell and drip drip drip. He would grab at the knives, pulling them free, and charge her. His heart would thud raggedly as she dodged his weakening blows, her knives clattering against the floor as they fell from his hands...

But not yet. She would wait, wait until he had served some twisted purpose. Esalis wanted her miserable Lupine. Mili could not fathom why. The species was hellbent on it's own extinction a millennium ago, why prolong the inevitable?

The Director had her lightsaber, though. Mili would bring the Lupine, and the Director would return her saber.

Bartleby said something, and Mili nodded. She acknowledged the sound but ignored the words. She would remember the sound for later and they would be words then, if she cared. She followed to the ship. He was mostly prattling on about supplies and rules and procedures, but so far had said nothing of the location of the Lupine, which was the most important thing. She let him pilot the ship for now, having no interested in the vessel beyond it's ability to function.

[Bartleby Orem]

He kept his own thoughts about his 'partner' shut away, refusing to allow them to surface lest she use some manner of Force magic to read his mind. Instead, Orem focussed on taking them up through the Coruscant atmosphere and into the darkness of space. He ignored her very presence the best that he could while entering their navigational information; for every breath and sound of hers that he could hear, he found himself involuntarily narrowing his eyes in disgust.

As the ship jumped into hyperspace, Orem sat for a few moments, leaned back with his hand on the armrests and staring at the starlines that now danced in the viewscreen.

Refusing to speak first, he would allow her to make the first move, now that they were alone.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

He stewed, hot like an unwatched pot in blue hot flames. The top on his mind clattered but let off incomprehensible steam. Orem's brain was well trained, well disciplined.

"Where are we starting our search for the elusive lupine?" She asked. It was an important question, as her ability to intuit would be helped with more information. She would drag what she needed from him.

[Bartleby Orem]

He waited for a few more moments before answering her question.

We go to Dantooine to rendezvous with the Anaxiss. They will give us their information on where the smuggler's ship was seen heading, and from there we will follow on our own."

He stood, swiping at unseen specks of dust from the front of his uniform before frowning down at Mili.

"Now. Until we reach our destination, I would suggest that you find something to entertain yourself."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She would have frowned too, but she still had 750 years of art to catch up on. Milivikal would have no problem entertaining herself. Her quarters were compact, with just enough room to sleep and stand in.

She pulled on her pair of very pricey headphones and started to flip through the collections chronologically. There was enough art here to last for years, and she planned to get through it, eventually.

[Bartleby Orem]

Her lack of presence most inviting, Orem took one more look out of the viewscreen in front of him before turning on his heel and leaving the small bridge behind.

Like Mili's, his quarters were small. What few bags he had packed was still sitting where he'd placed them on the bunk, and so he busied himself with removing their content and meticulously placing them into space-saving cupboards built into the bulkheads. It was a short affair, and soon enough he had slid the bags into their own compartment beneath the bed.

The trip to Dantooine was not an entirely long one, but it was long enough to instill boredom in a person who had nothing to do. And so, the Imperial busied himself with a datapad he'd set aside, turning it on. Making sure that the door to his quarters was locked - lest k'Vik make an attempt at assaulting him, he settled himself upon the bed and set to his reading. Nothing terribly interesting, or at least to anyone outside of Imperial intelligence. For him however, reading up on Milivikal k'Vik was near engrossing; anything to help him understand her and whatever weaknesses she would have. It was not as comprehensive a report as he would have liked, but the amount of information was substantial enough given the situation.

And while he found it interesting, it was not enough to warrent striking up any sort of conversation with the woman. She was an insipid creature, her motivations it seemed not for a greater good but for selfish reasons. Just the sort of person that he despised.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

You have to look out for yourself, when all of your causes are dead. She had no stake with the Empire or Rebellion. After being free for a year, she still disliked both sides and decided to ply her selfish cause independently.

Entanglements were inevitable, but she wished it had not been so much of a disaster. She took a short nap, and went back to reviewing the art holos. Mili would keep re-evaluating Orem's usefulness as things progressed. Right now he was invaluable. She did not know the protocols needed to pull information from the Director's intelligence network, and right now, she had nothing to go on. Orem's mindless loyalty somewhat shielded his mind from her efforts, although given time, she could break him down.

Patience. Some goals needed patience.

She lifted her head from her stretch as the proximity alarm sounded. They were near Dantooine now. Mili rose to her feet smoothly and occupied the navigator's seat, beating Orem to the cockpit.

[Bartleby Orem]

Much to his chagrin, he'd dozed off lightly during his reading. A quick intake of breath and his eyes were open. Quickly scanning his quarters, Orem breathed a minute sigh of relief that he was still sequestered safely; it was the ship's navigation alarm that'd woken him, and swinging his legs over the side of his bed, he stood.

Both knees cracked as he rose to his full height that, while not terribly tall, was enough for him. He maintained that his attitude and bearing; the very way he held himself, was what intimidated most that he dealt with.

Unlocking the door, Orem stepped briskly out into the rest of the ship, making his way to the bridge. His eyes flicked to Mili, and mild annoyance made itself known in his expression at her having arrived first. His features clouded over though, as he took his seat.

Minutes later they dropped from hyperspace, the gleaming white monolith that was the Anaxiss sitting before them in silent greeting.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Despite instinct to do otherwise, Mili kept her hands away from the controls as Orem went to work. Tarra W'iil 33rd symphony drummed out of her fingers into the armrest as she waited for them to be hailed. Crackle-static came through. It was brief, but present and annoying. The ship's comm system was designed to be cheap and easy to mass produce, came alive fully.

Orem broadcasted one of the acceptable handshakes to the gleaming space-borne shark tooth. The tight burst transmission was an encrypted code designed for machine use only, and she could not perceive it. It was in the ship's computer, though, and she had been listening to the click-clack of the switches and controls. Despite many being the same model, all had a different sound by virtue of location within the cockpit. She committed the sequence to memory, and would figure out how to re-create it with time.

Clackety-clackety. Damn him. It was likely that the volume of data was stodgy text reports and hyperspace vectors. The Siren still held hope for a briefing of sorts, for something audible, so she could at least measure the words and glean information beyond what was simply said.

“Are we to dock?” She asked. Her last memory of a Impstar Duce was not a fond one. Milivikal peered at the ship like one would at a deadly animal in a cage. They could spread the small freighter to dust in seconds.

[Bartleby Orem]

He gave her a sidelong look, and the barest of smirks crossed his features as he watched her stare at the behemoth in front of them. Beyond that however, he continued to ignore her. The less he thought of her - despite having to be around her on this task - the better.

Soon enough the Anaxiss responded in confrimation, and Orem brought them closer until the star destroyer's tractor beams locked on, pulling them up and into its' belly.

The landing struts extended and kissed the decking as they were set down, and without a word he stood, smoothing out any wrinkles in his uniform. The Imperial turned to head from the bridge at a clipped pace. The ship's automatic sequences would have already begun to lower the boarding ramp, and Orem - though it was for the basest of juvenile reasons - wished to be the first out before k'Vik.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Old habits regarding Star Destroyers died hard. Be casual for a few minutes, get a “safe world” jump vector and go. They were being tractored in, again. Only this time it was for happy fun friendly reasons. Her beating him to the bridge had raised Orem's ire, and, despite the navigator's station being close to the door than the helm, he was first out the door.

She smirked to his back, and she followed him to the boarding ramp. Unlike his firm, military strides, she walked off the ship with a flowing grace and nearly silent steps. She gave the fitted shirt a tug, and it neatly conformed to her figure.

All she wanted, though, was the information. Where was the Lupine? Why didn't the director use her resources to get her if she wanted her so bad? Some things did not add up, and Milivikal would use that to her advantage, hopefully.

[Bartleby Orem]

They were met by a leiutenant backed by a small cadre of stormtroopers. All around the hangar were the sounds of military precision, order, and meticulous professionalism. This was what he was used to. It was his environment.

The officer saluted, and Orem returned the gesture in kind.

"Agent Orem. It is good to see you arriving safely," the leiutenant glanced over Orem's shoulder at the woman who followed, but his eyes soon enough went back to meet those of the other Imperial's. "Captain Rollok has been notified of your mission, and is expecting you. He will meet you in his stateroom.

"If you and your partner will follow me."

The leiutenant turned on his heel, and his stormtroopers did the same before beginning the trek from the hangar.

Without any sort of acknowledgement of whether Mili would follow, Orem stalked after the party. He held himself considerably well however, at the mention of k'Vik being his partner. The very thought! And even if it was true, it was certainly not something he had particular desire to dwell upon.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Her mouth opened, but no sound came of it. “Unwilling partners,” she had added, but used the Force to silence the statement. There was no need to throw suspicion upon herself.

She fought down the urge to fidget with her boot daggers. It would be a poor idea if they had been briefed on her. She also fought the urge to dance instead of march. Imperials marched everywhere and it was tiresome. They marched down a sterile corridor to a turbolift, and then down another pair to the stateroom. Rollock was a somewhat thin man of average height. His face was a little gaunt, but he did not seem unhealthy, just wiry.

Milivikal took a glance at Orem and smirked, just to make him less comfortable than he already was. She hear the man-cog's strained mental gears squealing with joy at being part of the big ugly Imperial machine again. Hopefully Rollock would tell them something useful.

[Bartleby Orem]

Another round of saluting, and Orem was finally reaching the semblance of comfort. Surrounded by those in his same profession, he felt more at ease. Mili's smirk was only met with a raised eyebrow and a slight disapproving frown.

Rollock afforded the woman the barest of glances though, as his orders had been explicit - provide all of the information he had of where the smuggler's ship went. He lowered his frame down into the chair behind his desk while indicating that his two guests do the same.

"The Director said that you would provide us with information about the ship, Layla, and its' whereabouts," Orem prompted.

A moment of silence.

"Yes. I will."

Rollock leaned back in his seat. "We do not know there current exact whereabouts, but we were able to obtain the trajectory of their jump. We do not know how far out they travelled, but we can certainly point in their direction."

He looked to Mili then, as if acknowledging her for the first time."I trust this is acceptable to you."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She slid into the chair as instructed. She put her pointer over her lips and her other fingers on her jawline.

Milivikal frowned a little, but her face remained impassive otherwise. It would be helpful, provided they didn't jump again so soon after. She could know though. Some things could be determined. It was a little disappointing to hear that so little progress had been made with tracking hyperspace travel.

“It is satisfactory.” No silver platter delivery available. Then again, it was why the director hadn't caugh them with other means. “I will need it charted on a map.”

[Bartleby Orem]

Rollock nodded. "Of course. It will be included."

His eyes lingered on her for a few more moments, a studious gaze that took her in with calm calculation. Finally, He he turned back to Orem.

"I will have all of what we have transferred to your own ship's databanks."[i]

"Thank you."

The captain nodded and lay sinewy hands palm-down upon the polished surface of his desk. [i]"I have been ordered to keep orbit around Dantooine, so I can offer nothing more than the requested information. However, Director Esalis also made mention that if you wish to see the work camp yourselves, you may. The workers have been sent away, as we have no more need of them. A garrison remains at the excacation sight.

"The areas of the Jedi's fight with one of our assassins has been untouched by the Director's orders."

Orem said nothing, the look on his perpetually stern features uncharacteristically cloudy at best. After a moment of thought, he gave a sidelong glance to k'Vik. He would allow her to make that decision.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal's eyes went wide.
"Yes."

The Jedi Lupine had been here!. This was a stroke in their favor.

"Now, if possible." Rollock said it was, and led them to a shuttle. The less the small freighter was seen in an Imperial context, the better. It only took half an hour to get to the surface, and another 5 minutes to the battle site.

Milivikal carefully stepped around the carnage.

Bartleby began to follow her.

"Stay there." She snapped, and began to study the ground, which was scorched in several places. Milivikal drew one of her daggers and began to shadow-fight an invisible opponent. Her body twisted and writhed, beating back invisible blows, protecting an invisible thing. Invisible wounds. Half a minute in, she paused, then jerked upward as if hit from a blow to the stomach. She fell to the ground, dramatically. Pause, blow, impact. Her body tightened and writhed as if she had been hit with a stunner. She stopped, not understanding how to do the next part.

"And she changed!" She bounced back onto her feet in a graceful arc, her breath catching up.

"She's shorter than I." The director's account of the fight had been accurate, except for a few somewhat unimportant details. Both had overestimated the Lupine's height by a pair of inches.

"She fought one handed." She said and walked to the spot where the Director and Colonel had been shot.

"Bang." She said softly, but Orem could hear a softer version of the report identical to the one heard that day. She looked at the ruins none too far. There was enough to make a sabre, she could feel it. No doubt Orem would object. She balled her hands into fists at the frustration of not having a proper weapon.

"We must go, before they are far."

[Bartleby Orem]

Standing off to the side, Orem watched k'Vik's movements, her recreation of what had happened. In some ways it was fascinating to watch the woman fight her imaginary adversary, but he allowed no amount of interest to show on his stoic features.

The remark of the Lupine changing was enough to cause a single eyebrow to raise in curiosity, but soon enough his face returned to its' normal expression. He noted the look she gave to the lightsabre debris, but kept silent. Until the Director said otherwise, the site of the battle would not be touched - and that meant that what was left of the Jedi weapon would stay where it was.

He did offer a nod at k'Vik's last words though, and half-turned int he direction of the shuttle.

Waiting until she was at his side once again, the Imperial and his charge started off, side by side.

"Was it as you expected?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal nodded emphatically after taking a glance back at the sabre. She battled the urge to take it. It shook a little until not taking won. She fingered the dagger in her hand with longing.
"She is absolutely tenacious. Loklorien skates the edge expertly. Eloquently." she added for emphasis.

"Had she been fighting Savoc two handed, she would have disabled or killed him in under a minute." They stepped into the shuttle.

"Prent will be a bigger danger than anyone guesses. He is a desperate man who shant admit his emotions for Loklorien. No rationality can be expected from his actions." Orem had kept the shuttle running, as there was virtually no risk of it being stolen with the ISD orbiting overhead.

Once on board their ship again, they floated out of the ISD's massive hangar.

"Point the ship on the same path, but do not jump. I shall need some time to gather where they went."

[Bartleby Orem]

He'd listened in silent contemplation at what she'd said of their quarry. What she'd said of the Lupine he would allow her own self to contend with; after all, that was why Mili had been pulled in to serve the Director. The news of Prent though was far more understandable to his ears, as Orem had little doubt that the man was as his counterpart had said.

An unknown person in all respects is less dangerous than a known person doing unknown things.

The Lupine was a completely unknown figure to him, her motives and methods unclear. The smuggler however, had a small reputation enough; looking out for his own hide and going where he could get the better amount of credits. But after k'Vik's words, Orem was given to further speculation. If the man harbored any sort of feelings for the Lupine, it would cause him to break his pattern and deviate far from what was expected of him. That was what concerned the Imperial.

Wordlessly he piloted their ship as Mili had asked, aligning it in the same direction that Layla had been just before jumping. He took his hands from the controls and leaned back in his seat, arms upon the rests and turning a surprisingly patient and neutral look to k'Vik.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal's eyes glazed over after she brought up the galactic map with the exit telemetry mapped out by a simple straight line. Her head shifted slowly to and fro, as if she were trying to pinpoint something very faint. Orem noticed after a few minutes that he could not even hear his own breathing. Concerned, he tapped his finger against the console. Absolute silence.

This was difficult for k'Vik. There were echos left by ships jumping in an out of hyperspace, but they were difficult to detect a day after a jump, but over a week? She bit her lip in concentration and gripped the armrest. If only she knew what a YV-666's hyperdrive sounded like.

Orem shifted. The ship had been silent for a half hour now, and he wondered when this would end. Milivikal's knuckles were white, and he could see her body tensed. Bartleby crossed his arms and stared at the stars.

Two hours had passed. Bartleby turned and looked back again. Milivikal was sweating and trembling. Her breathing was shallow, based on the way her chest rose and fell.

Two more hours passed. Her appearance gradually worsened from each glance he took. Her nose bled. Red contrasted harshly against her skin, dripping down her lips and off her chin.

Suddenly, the sound rushed back. Her skin had lost it's luster, and looked a sickly off-white. Her lips were cracked from lack of hydration. She breathed as if she had been pulled up from the water after nearly drowning, coughing and sputtering. Orem jerked around. Only her eyes were unaffected.

“I found them.” She managed weakly. Her hands trembled as she manipulated the map's controls. An isolated, remote system in the mid-rim came up. One of the worlds had been mined about 500 years ago, but the rest of the system was gas giants and asteroid belts.

[Bartleby Orem]

Interesting.

That k'Vik had been able to use her power to divine the location of the smuggler's ship was impressive, but the Imperial was loathe still to show any such emotion.

With the coordinates provided, Orem set about inputing them into the nav computer. He said nothing, even after having seen the state that k'Vik was in physically. Her well-being was of no concern to him; at least, not entirely. As long as she got the job done, no matter what it took from her, than things would be satisfactory. Thus far she had performed well enough.

The computer beeped at him, and Orem sat back. Reaching a hand out to activate the drive levers, he sent them into hyperspace.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She limped back to her cabin, making re hydration her highest priority. Finding s'Ilancy could have taken longer, and been less stressful, but with the trail so cold, she pushed herself to the very brink. Milivikal pulled a bottle of water from the refrigeration unit. Her heart finally settled after she slid down against the wall in the ship's kitchenette. She suckled the cool bottle gently, careful not to overwhelm her body in it's weakened state. Her eyes shut, enjoying the sweetness of water. With that much distance between them, she would have enough time to sleep and recover before they exited hyperspace.

She finished, no longer feeling so broken, let the urge to sleep take her.

[Bartleby Orem]

The quiet of hyperspace was always a nice thing; it gave one time to think and regroup. Unfortunately, Orem had more than enough to ponder on. How would k'Vik approach this situation? How long would it take for her to recover from her previous exertion? Surely not long. Of course, if there was ever a time for him to gain any sort of upper hand on the woman - to reiterate who exactly it was that was holding her leash...

The Imperial was out of his seat with a jerk.

Mili had exercised a considerable amount of power, and he was not about to allow her to think that she had rattled him enough to feel inadequate. A reminder was needed; not a punishment in his twisted mind, a simple reminder.

His stride was steady, hands clasped behind his back as he made his way to his own cabin. Tucked away in various compartments, Orem had placed restraints and other methods of restraint. These he retrieved with swift ease, and in two minutes time he was out once more. The door to her own small quarters was closed, but a swift touch of the keypad was all that was needed to open it.

Framed in the doorway, Orem let his gaze pass over the small living space. He spied her in the kitchenette, leaning against the wall, her body sitting on the floor. His hands went behind his back once more then, the binders and gag removed from sight as he stared down at her. And, for a split second, his features softened. The lines in his face became less severe.

Taking a step inside, Orem set the tools of his trade upon the countertop, out of the way. He knelt in front of her then, studying her own features for a few quiet moments before reaching out.

A foreign sort of concern flashed through his mind then, as he became certain that she would be more comfortable on her bunk

[Milivikal k'Vik]

http://panicked.org/sk/sleep_02.jpg
Pushing herself that hard was a risk that she needed to take. Milivikal knew it left her vulnerable to Orem, but there was no way to find Loklorien without pushing herself right to the thin line of acceptable damage and permanent scars. Besides, there was no way Bartleby could take her down unless presented under absolutely ideal conditions. Their odds of success were much better if Mili was viable.

Orem's moment of softness passed, and he left her where she was, in front of a cabinet of magnetic bowls. Her legs were minor obstacles. The worst case scenario was that she would tumble a little if they pulled out of hyperspace suddenly. He decided that leaving her be was enough mercy.

Milivikal dreamed, her eyes blinking rapidly.


God is in my fingers God is in my head
God is in the trigger God is in the lead

God is freedom, God is trust
God is power and God is proof
God is fashion, God is fame
God gives meaning, God gives pain

You can be right like me
With God in the hole you're a righteous soul
I got a halo round me, I got a halo round me
I'm not the same as you
I've seen the light and I'm gaining in height now
I got a halo round me, I got a halo round me
I got a halo round my head

God is on the comm God is on the net
God is in the warning God is in the threat
Porcupine Tree – Halo

She shifted uneasily for a moment, before the vision came to her. s'Ilancy had run her through, and Milivikal apologized while the blackness faded. It made no sense. Even the Lupine Jedi looked confused.

Hyperspace broke then, a little abruptly. The last time the system had been charted was long enough for one of the asteroid fields to shift into their path. The ship lurched, and Milivikal rolled to a crouch. The proximity alarm blared loudly still, surely Orem was awake and in control of the ship. They were in system, after all.

An asteroid impacted another behind them. It pelted the ship's particle shields with debris and rocked them. Too busy keeping her feet, Mili had not noticed how desperately she needed a shower.

“Are we in the system?” She asked. Orem did not look up.

“I don't know.” He growled. “I've been too busy keeping us in one piece.”

Milivikal said nothing to retort, and slipped into the nav station.

“We are in system, apparently in the outer asteroid belts.” She hrrmm and hmmmed rhythmically.

“Set the heading for: 55 and 67 fall.” Orem grunted, and eased the ship in that direction when he could. Over the next half hour, the asteroids began to clear.

[Bartleby Orem]

The time spent as she rested was quiet and welcome; it allowed Bartleby the chance to mentally rewind himself. He was baffled at his previous behavior - after all, it wasn't so long ago that he was beating her senseless with his stun baton. She generated in him an undercurrent of frustration and aggravation. Why he could not say, only that her presence, since the time that he'd come into contact with her, was enough to needle away at him.

But his show of gentleness disturbed the Imperial to an unhealthy degree. What he'd done was unacceptable in his eyes. She was a fringe dweller; lawless. That she was a Force user as well was simply the last nail in the proverbial coffin.

His coffin - he surmised - if he was not careful and let his guard down.

Thankfully, at the moment, she'd done as ordered, and Orem took solace in the fact that she did as bidden during their time navigating out of the asteroid cluster. It wasn't anything he was unused to, but all the same it was an obstacle and fairly annoying. Much like her humming...

"Stop that."

The words were sharp and distinct, meant to surprise her into silence.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Her response was prompt: she laughed at his order. It sounded like high pitched bells ringing in a mocking tone. Stop humming? It was absurdity.

“Does it truly irk you so?” Milivikal asked. After all, she could hum at a higher volume, or simply keep it to herself. Mostly clear of the asteroids, Orem had more than ample time to glare at her. The humming seemed to fade until it was imperceptible.

She continued to manipulate the sensor systems, scanning in a seemingly shotgun pattern for the Rebel fleet. That irked him, too. A systematic scan would be far more effective.

Five minutes passed.

“Oooh!” She said as the console gave off a gentle ping, indicating that it had picked up a signature of a close enough profile to the search parameters. A pair of Nebulon B frigates were all they could pick up at this range, but there was surely an assortment of smaller supporting ships.

Milivikal hoped Bartleby wouldn't do anything stupid, like communicate with Intel regarding the location of the fleet. She was prepared for that eventuality. K'Vik reached out, brushing against the pair of frigates for the Lupine.

[Bartleby Orem]

Orem decided it best to not answer her; she knew well enough that what she'd been doing was an annoyance to him, the very look on his face was enough to tell her.

Instead, he sat in silence as she went about her search. Which, to him, was as chaotic as she was. Order demanded a far less scattered search, but he would allow her to do what she wanted at this point. She'd divined that the fleet was here, and the Imperial was content to let her finish the job she started. She got them into the correct system - at least by what she'd found in the Force - and she would find the Lupine.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Onboard the Nebulon B frigate Kuvo


Still relegated to the medical wing, s'Il slept peacefully. Her body now almost completely recovered, the Lupine rested without trouble or nightmares. She was alone.

And then she felt it; a presence. It was searching, reaching out for something.

She could feel it closing in, and as it came within her own desired range s'Il reached out herself and took ahold of it.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Hello? Yes? Hello! Who are you?

Milivikal stared into space thoughtfully before her head rolled back and her eyes rolled up. She was there. At this distance, it was a bit of find out what someone felt like by only using a soft, green leaf.

Gently, her head rolled back and forth.

“s'Ilancy's...” a deep breath “...on the...” ahhhhhhmmmm “...frigate. She is...” Milivikal paused, trying to simply interpret the feelings from s'Ilancy, “...mmmmcurious.” A minute later, she snapped out of it.

“I am making myself presentable. Yell if something's the matter.”

[Bartleby Orem]

Now what the bloody hell was that supposed to mean? If the Lupine was on the frigate, than it was their job to contact the Director.

Something stayed his hand though, and Orem leaned back grumpily in his chair.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Onboard the Kuvo

Now this was interesting.

She could feel the other's presence only faintly, but it was enough. Curious as she was, the Lupine was content to wait. Whoever it was would no doubt approach her again; of this she was almost positive.

Allowing her mind to expand beyond the frigate's physical boundaries, she went no further in her mental wanderings.

And so she waited, still resting in her bed, medical personnel bustling to and fro on their own errands.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal was finally cleaned from her grime. Orem, meanwhile, was readying a summary of the current progress and all of the information regarding their location. He seemed happy, as he was finally able to do his job without Mili's interference. k'Vik was fast in the shower, and fully suspected he would do such a stupid thing.

She snarled as she re-entered the cockpit, fully cognizant of what he was doing. He found his hands forced away from the console.

"What are you doing?. She thinks me to be a Jedi, you will foil my duplicity, idiot."

[Bartleby Orem]

"I am doing my duty," was the snapped response. He resented the tone of her voice. What did he care if k'Viik was trying to fool the Lupine?

"We can accomplish this far more quickly with a heavy hand than with your trickery.

"I don't care whether she thinks you are a Jedi; you found her. Your job is done."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She laughed. “Oh, oh, yes. The heavy handed approach proved a roaring success last time.” Glare, you fool. Glare because you realize I am right.

“If I fail, squawk to your director all you like. Until then, it would be advantageous to try a more subtle track.”

[Bartleby Orem]

He barely resisted the urge to rise and throw his hands around her neck, to choke off her voice and watch her eyes glaze over in a death brought about by him. But he remained still, only staring up at the woman with murder in his eyes.

Perhaps he could get away with a slap across the face? Anything to shut her up; anything to stop her voice from finding his ears.

But, Orem remained unmoving. He ground his teeth in lieu of physical action against her before turning away.

"Very well. Play your little games."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

He could be as corrosive as he wanted to be, provided he did nothing. She smiled warmly at Bartleby.

She reached out to s'Ilancy, who waited patiently.

Come? it was a feeling more than a word, asking s'Ilancy to come to her.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The Lupine was waiting, her mind patient. She was cautious still, as this new curiosity was something she'd not expected.

She could sense the feeling; a desire for her to go to whatever it was out there. The Lupine couldn't help the light smile that crossed her lips; even if she was able, she'd not rush so blindly into something such as this. Mentally she shook her head, sending out a returned feeling.

Unable.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal blinked, but knew it was truth. She supposed that Loklorien was still confined to her bed. All of the evidence suggested her injuries were horrific.

"I must go to her."

[Bartleby Orem]

Now this was going too far. Orem stood from his chair and placed himself toe to toe with k'Vik.

"Absolutely not. That is too far beyond the bounds of what you have been tasked with."

He screwed his features into a marginally contained mask of distaste. "If you can not make her come to us, than I will continue on with my duty."

And, as if to reiterate, "You are not to go to her."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

k'Vik's left hand accelerated from her side, impossibly fast. In the space it took for Orem to blink, her hand had traveled from her hip to his temple for an open palm strike. The impact fell him. She took a step away and Orem's body folded onto the floor before her. Mili wasted no time, retrieving some of the rope she requested and bound his limbs together expertly. Unless Bartleby was a lupine, or other shape shifter, he would not be able to escape.

She took control of the shuttle and set a course for the frigate. Mili considered spacing the bound body. Later, perhaps.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Onboard the bridge of theKuvo

It was the comm officer who spoke, his voice rising above the regular bridge chatter that was ever-present.

"Captain, Sir, I've got a ship inbound, heading for us."

Captain Taun'ri, his tall Iridonian frame standing easily heads above the rest, looked up from the conversation he was having with one of the deck officers.

"Yes? Inbound from where?" This was unexpected, and not a little worrying to the Rebel captain.

"Looks to be coming in from the asteroid field, Sir."

Taun'ri was quiet for a few moments. "Hail them; but be ready to make a jump if anything seems amiss."

"Aye Captain."

Taun'ri hovered over the officer still however, as the young man sent the text-only hail.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal responded quickly, not chancing the already skittish nature of the Alliance.

Her text was simple: "I seek the special one. I am like them."

The chance of anyone making heads or tails of that without contex would be nearly impossible.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Thoughtfully staring at the reply, Taun'ri crossed his arms over his chest. The comm officer look back at him, a questioning look on his own features.

"The 'special one', Sir? I don't understand."

"Neither do I." Another moment of silence.

"Tell them to clarify. Don't jump yet, but be ready just in case."

"Yes Sir."

The officer was quick to obey, and sent a simple, single-word query.

-clarify-

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal sighed. Not a clever bone in anyone's body, or a slightly clever exoskeleton.

-Jedi

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The answer was enough to cause the Iridonian to narrow his gaze. How did a random person on an equally random starship know that he had a Jedi aboard? Of course, he brushed that thought aside in favor of a more desired reason; that this traveler was simply looking blindly, and had no idea that he had one with him?

After more than a few minutes of thoughtful silence, he gave his answer.

"Very well. Let the craft dock. Send a squadron of X-Wings to escort it in, and prepare a detachment of soldiers to greet this person."

"Yes Sir."

Taun'ri stood a moment longer, staring at the single word that had answered them... 'Jedi'.

And without a word, he turned on his heel, heading from the bridge at a clipped pace.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

The small cargo ship smoothly accelerated toward the frigate, which spat 8 X-Wings. Her craft was lightly armed, and attacking one was the furthest thing from her mind.

Six flanked her craft, but two followed her diligently, likely with the blaster cannons charged.

Once in visual range, she dialed back the pace. The tractors grabbed her, and set the craft down gently.

She lowered the side ramp, unsurprised at the military presence on the flight deck. Garbed in a simple brown jumpsuit, she was visually unarmed, and her slight smile disarming.

"Hello." she stated in prim Coruscanti accented basic.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Normally, Taun'ri would have met his new guest upon arrival, but this situation was a bit different than most. This person was seeking a Jedi, and the captain thought it best to consult with the one he had currently under his care.

The walk to the medical wing was a quick one, as his pace was swift. He didn't know how much time he had to discuss this with the Jedi woman, and he was not about to waste that which he had now. Entering the ward, the Iridonian was soon at the Jedi's bedside. And, somehow not surprised, he saw that she was wide awake and staring at him; as if expecting the words that he was about to say.

The Lupine was quiet though; she wished to hear what he had to say from his own mouth, rather than speaking first.

"There is someone here for you."

Simple, concise words. She appreciated his manner, and nodded. "I know. I would meet with her."

"Her... ?" he was at a brief loss for words, but quickly remembered the nature of the woman he was speaking with; she was a Jedi; of course she would know something like that.

s'Il was quick to take her advantage, and slowly moved her legs to dangle over the side of the bed. She knew that the captain was loathe to allow her to leave, but the truth of the matter was that she was fit enough to walk about and resume her normal activities. She was still fairly gaunt, her body having first replenished it's basic nutrients with an intravenous line, though now she'd moved on to real food. It was a somewhat slow process, but the Lupine looked far worse than she actually felt.

Pushing herself to her feet, she took a hold of the robe that Zem had graciously left at her bedside. It fit comfortably over her shoulders, enveloping her whole body. For a moment she wondered if Zem had felt the presence that she had, but soon shrugged the thought away; he was still hard-pressed to delve into the Force, and she had decided it best to not press the issue. He would do so in his own time.

Hands folded together in the brown robe's sleeves, s'Il nodded for Taun'ri to lead her from the ward.

He stood taller, squaring his shoulders before starting for the door.


* * *

The soldiers were cautious, keeping their firearms trained upon the ship's emerging occupant. None answered her greeting.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

While the weapons were trained on her, each troop exhibited trigger discipline. All rested on the trigger guard instead of the trigger itself. With his mouth taped shut, Bartleby wouldn't be making enough noise to be noticed by anyone unless they searched the ship and found him stuffed beneath his bunk.

Fortunately for Milivikal's limited patience, s'Ilancy did not take long to arrive. Mili heard and felt her before she came into the hangar, and held her blue eyes closed until she actually entered. When the Jedi was nearly before her, she opened her eyes slowly, as if waking. She was gaunt, but on her feet and displayed the grace and agility of an excellent fighter.

"Hello, Jedi s'Ilancy." The same precise accent flowed smoothly.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

During her walk across the hangar deck towards the woman, s'Il was only able to catch a full glimpse of her face when she'd stepped beyond the perimeter of rebel soldiers to stop before the other woman. Hers was a face that tugged at the Lupine's memory, and a mild frown crossed her features as she dug deep into her mind, trying to place the features.

This woman was refined, her face a delicate creation; pale with a crystalline blue gaze that could pierce any soul. Her entire body mirrored this as well.

s'Il had seen this woman before though, and her frown drew further into a scowl as she stood, until in a moment of shocked recognition, her eyes grew wide.

The Lupine dropped to her knees, hands planted on the decking and her head bent down as she spoke a single word in a language that only the woman before her would understand.

<"Arbiter.">

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal was surprised. She did not expect the Lupine to know the old tounge, Bast'yr. Nor did she expect to be recognized.

<"Please stand. I apologize if my grasp of your language is not adequate."> Languages were one of Milivikal's gifts, and she spoke those she knew excellently. It was one of the reasons she had been picked for the negotiations. For an outsider, though, humility was appreciated.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

As asked, s'Il rose to her feet. She proudly met the eyes of k'Vik. She'd seen illustrations of the woman in many of her books, and while it'd been many years since she'd last perused through the texts concerning the Migration, the face of the Jedi that'd been sent were not easily forgotten.

<"You speak it like any one of us would,"> she smiled lightly, then reverted back to basic. "But that is for something spoke of in privacy, is it not."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Aye." Mili nodded. The soldiers lowered their weapons, but were still ready. After all, the Jedi had been fooled before. She closed the door to her ship, the ramp folding into the fuselage until it was flush.

"Please, lead. I've not been on one of these frigates yet." The captain led them to the smallest of the ship's meeting rooms. The table lacked any of the holographics or communication tools the same space on a Star Destroyer would have had. It was simple, flat, matte polished metal.

With a nod from Loklorien, the Captain closed the door behind them.

"I am sure you have many questions."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She made no move to sit. Instead, she stood easily behind one of the chairs that ringed the table, placing her hands on the headrest.

"I do."

Her initial shock at seeing the Arbiter over, s'Il allowed her self-control to take over once more, and while her voice held a deep overtone of respect, it was also laced with caution.

"The first of which I think is rather obvious.

"You are the Arbiter. You should be dead."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"I had an accident, with old rituals. I was thought to be dead. But in a stasis coffin I slept." Truth, but a slightly incomplete one.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The Lupine considered this, then nodded. It was a short, if not concise explanation.

She went on. "How long have you been awake, then?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Not a year yet, but close. Civilization has expanded since my time."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A nod. "It has."

She thought for a moment, then ventured another question, though this time her voice dropped in volume. "Have you been to any of the other strongholds?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"No." She shook her head. The numerous ports she had visited, none of the planets set aside had been anything more than a pit stop.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The Lupine furrowed her brow in thought, remaining quiet as her mind worked over the questions she wished to ask. Presently, she exhaled a low breath, moving around the chair she'd stood behind. Her seemingly fragile frame lowered itself into the seat, and she bade Mili to do the same.

Her head remained tilted downward, and a hand reached up to rub at her temple. She looked at the other woman from over the tops of her eyes.

Milivikal k'Vik looked every bit the woman that was depicted in s'Il's aging books; her movements graceful and her manner polite, though curt. She watched her; studied her. k'Vik had very literally stepped out of the long-ago past, and the thought of it was partially overwhelming. To anyone else, her appearance would have been inconsequential. But to s'Il it was an overlapping of generations. Mili might not have been a Lupine, but she had been given such revered status... it put her on par with the T'emu'ss'en.

Even so however, the Arbiter's presence was slightly disturbing. It went against the natural order of progression of her people; the past was the past, and it stayed there.

A few minutes of silence passed, and the Lupine blinked, shaking her head slowly. "You must forgive my silence. Seeing you here is... not exactly... settling."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"To wake in a coffin was surprising." She said, and Loklorien nodded. "I did not know I made it into the Lupine histories. I primarily acted as translator." A complicated task considering that some of the Lupines in different houses had developed their own dialects. That, and keeping the negotiations as calm as possible.

Mili sneezed, and bits of red spattered across the intercepting hand.

"Oh bother." she sighed.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

While she certainly had no way of seeing the flecks of crimson on Mili's hand, s'Il's nose was quick to pick up on the scent. Any explanation for the other woman's presence in Lupine lore was put on hold as concern descended over her features.

"Are you well?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"I am..." She paused, smelling the iron in her blood and the growing dribble on her upper lip. The room started to swim."...not so well." She sat back into the chair and put her head up, holding her nose pinched shut.

"I saw where you visited on Dantooine." Despite her pinched nose, her voice still sounded perfect. "The effort to find you, the thin thread..." Mili sucked in breath through her mouth.

"Some bacta is all I need."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

With only a nod s'Il rose from her seat. The smell of Mili's blood filled her nostrils, but for some inexplicable reason the scent itself was just as exotic as she was. It certainly smelled like blood would smell, yet there was a quality to it. Something undefined.

"We can go to the medical wing."

That k'vik had been to Dantooine, even seen where that horrid battle with the Imperial assassin had taken place, did wonders for the Lupine's growing curiosity. She held that in check though.

About this 'thin thread' she spoke of though.

"You sought me out." I was more a statement than a question, and s'Il slowed momentarily as the door to their private room opened and she stepped out into the corridor beyond.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Yesss." She did not correct the extra hiss. Mili kept her head tilted back and followed Loklorien's light footsteps.

"I have been looking for lightsaber components. Dantooine had extensive cave networks that yielded good crystals." She spoke without her jaw moving. "None of those caves are where I remembered."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Lightsabre components? s'Il furrowed her brow.

"All of my literature says that you already have a lightsabre; a rather exquisitely crafted one, from what I've read. Why are you looking for components?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"It was. However," she said with a hint of irritation "mine was looted." Twice!

"There are crystals on the black market, but the price is beyond extortion."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"That is a shame."

And truly, it was. She had seen pictures of the Arbiter's weapon, and admired it greatly.

They rounded a corner and set approached a pair of lift doors. Stepping inside, s'Il turned to regard k'Vik. She had many other questions, but those could wait for the time being.

"Why were you looking for me?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"There was quite an Imperial presence camped near some ruins. You left quite an echo there. It was difficult to follow in space." Mili kept her nose tilted skyward.

"I pushed hard to find you. Too hard, evidently."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She gave no answer, instead allowing silence to descend upon them as she digested Mili's words.

They exited the lift and started off once more. It wasn't long before the medical wing loomed ahead. As they entered, s'Il slowed to a stop and watched as an orderly approached.

"I am flattered," she finally said.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Nosebleed. Likely some minor hemorrhaging as well." Milivikal explained to the orderly.

"I was surprised that there were any Jedi at all, but a Lupine Jedi? Are you the only Lupine? I have not seen any others in my brief travels."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il waited until the orderly had left, leaving the two women relatively alone. When she spoke, her voice held a tinge of pride.

"Not exactly the last Lupine left, but close. I have a daughter. She and I are the last, to the best of my knowledge."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Essentially, s'Ilancy was the last Lupine. Without their traditions they were a tough oddity, and not much else. Milivikal saw the inevitable during the negotiations a millennium ago. Seeing it first hand, though, was something altogether different. Proud and wrapped in tradition to the core, it was obvious the Lupines failed to properly examine their plight and the traditions that led them there. Much like the Jedi of the same era, it seemed the groups dogma would be their undoing.

"And the Jedi?" The question was tinged with more uncertainty than it theoretically should have. Loklorien did not know, but there was no love lost between k'Vik and the Jedi of the past.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"The Jedi have been able to fair marginally better."

She thought of Serena and James. "But not by much. We are only now just really starting to find each other after being so scattered."

Staring at Mili then, s'Il bit her lip. Unsure of what to say next, the Lupine shifted her stance.

"You are here to find the others?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

The orderly returned with a large syringe.

"Miss, please move your hands. Mili obeyed, and the orderly squirted bacta into her nose and somewhat into her sinuses. She handed k'Vik a patch.

"Cover your nostrils with it, or everything will leak out." Again, Mili obeyed.

"You'll be fine in a few hours. Please come back so we can recycle the bacta."

k'Vik nodded.

"I thought there were no others." She said after the orderly left.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A slight nod was given as s'Il took a short step back. What the other Jedi wished to do was anyone's guess. Perhaps she wished to read up on what she had missed in the galaxy goings-on? But no; it was almost a certain thing that Mili had taken it upon herself to re-acquaint herself with the times.

And if k'Vik had thought that no Jedi had survived...

"What have you been doing then, since you woke?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"The first few months, I spent discovering what had happened, and I built a new lightsaber. After? Truthfully, piracy and smuggling. I am a horrid teacher, and would do any potential Jedi a disservice." Nor did Milivikal want the responsibility of a student.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The Lupine could not fault Mili in any way for her chosen profession after she'd returned to the waking world. After all, it seemed that s'Il had just recently found herself in much the same situation.

At the other woman's mention of teaching, s'Il offered a nod of understanding.

"Taking a student during these times is a gamble at best; in my mind at least."

From the corridor outside the ward's door came the sound of bare, pattering feet; it was a sound that lifted the weighted look in the Lupine's eye, replaced with a new warmth.

Before the little owner of those footsteps careened around the corner, s'Il turned to Mili.

"And how long will you be here?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Mili's eyes widened slightly and narrowed again at the patter of small feet. Unlike almost anyone else, she was able to discern the mass, the shape of the foot and the length of the stride.

"I cannot do this."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

What few short visits she had been allowed were never long enough, at least by Tak's standards. Dama was better mostly, though she did look like a bone-person. It was one of the first things s'Il had heard after first waking, and it made her laugh weakly.

Since then though, the Lupine had progressed well enough along that her daughter's visits were soon given whenever she wished.

As the little girl rocketed through the doorway, s'Il looked sharply at k'Vik.

"Cannot do what... ?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal stared at the child for a moment before turning her eyes to the floor.

"My ship hit a blockade. They tortured me after discovering what I was." Each word of the second sentence seemed to be punctuated with a low rumble. k'Vik still seethed.

"I am to trade you to Esalis for my freedom and new saber." To be told that she was the last was one thing, but to see it in person was something else altogether different. The little girl tilted and turned, a hand brushing against s'Il's leg before the patter of feet faded down the corridor. Mili slumped against the wall, feeling the exhaustion weigh down on her.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A heavy silence descended between the two women then, as s'Il stared hard at k'Vik. Eyes narrowed into a mixed glare of stark white and almost seething blue, the Lupine stopped herself from going after her daughter; instead drawing up to stand straighter.

Yet, even behind the harsh gaze was was the respect she had shown earlier. And, something else. Hurt.

Her voice was low. "You are the Arbiter; the Al'ss'ek."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

k'Vik sighed. "I was the only person in the Order who could figure out your bloody language in three months. With all of the dialects between the Houses, it is a wonder I that I did not start a war."

"I am a rather sorry excuse for a Jedi."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

<"That you were the only one who could learn the language in any amount of time was sign enough that you would help us.">

It was an involuntary thing, lapsing into the Lupine language. s'Il didn't know what to say after that. She took a half-step away from k'Vik; she certainly had no wish to start a physical altercation. She was still weak. And it was that reality that caused her to put a small amount of distance between them.

Emotions played across the Lupine's features, wrestling for control. Anger, rage, hurt, betrayal; until finally she bent her head. k'Vik it seemed was unwilling to perform her duty to her captors, and s'Il found a small amount of solace in that.

<"We have all done things not in accordance with our teachings.>"

It was a cautious venture, and the closest to understanding that the Lupine would allow.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

It had been a long time before Milivikal had felt regret or shame, but she did now. The last survivor of a doomed people, and she was going turn her over for a bit of rare metal and crystals and, theoretically, freedom.

She could feel the emotions wash over the Lupine.

<"It was easier to give you up when you were an abstract."> she said, and bit her lower lip nervously.

<"I lack any direction now. I was rather bent on trading you. What would you have me do?">

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il blinked slowly. She was truly at a loss after k'Vik's last words. What would she have her do? The Lupine pushed away her conflicting thoughts.

Finally, <"You are at a crossroads, but I will not tell you what to do. I can try to help, but it is your decision ultimately.">

She thought of Zem then. <"I may know someone who can show you more than I, however.">

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She paused in thought. Her left eyebrow raised.

<"I want my saber. I suspect there is no love lost between Esalis and yourself.">

Milivikal's lips pulled back into something rather macabre. It wasn't really a smile, more a bearing of teeth.

<"Perhaps we can both have what we want.">

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was that name again; Esalis. The Lupine wasn't entirely sure who it was that Mili was referring to, and the look in her eye said as much.

"I'm afraid I don't know who 'Esalis' is. The assassin was the only one that I fought on Dantooine, and from what I've been told his name is Savoc."

She thought back, remembering in crisp detail the events leading up to her battle with the Imperial. She recalled seeing a small, bespectacled man and a woman before rushing from the tent with the urn. Had one of those two been Esalis?

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Prent had the decency to shoot her. It is a shame he didn't kill her." Milivikal explained.

"Esalis is the Director of Imperial Intelligence." She added, bitterly.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Ah; so it'd been the woman. s'Il pursed her lips. Zem had said that Sanis shot two Imperials just before they blasted away from the campsite.

Her brow furrowed at a memory then. "She knew what I was, and there was another. A small man with glasses. He knew my House."

The Lupine, looking to the doorway then, blew out a long breath between her teeth before turning a level gaze to k'Vik.

"'What we both want'? You say that you wish to have your sabre returned, but what could I possibly want from her."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Perhaps you might be interested in the little cretin that was to her right, the sole reason for pursuing you and those Urns with such fervor." Milivikal had done research on Karnage, who was a key figure in Esalis' Lupine interests. Several of the notes in Loklorien's file had been his.

"Savoc was her pet, but that one is an academic. Imperial Academy of Exo-Anthropology. Besides ourselves, he is the foremost expert in Lupines. He is quite mad."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Well now. Blue eye staring long at Mili, s'Il allowed herself to sit slowly down into a chair. The one with the glasses was a scholar? And he knew enough of the Lupine that the Arbiter herself called him an expert?

Another word caught her interest; Exo-Anthropology... it certainly sounded important enough, but truth be told the Lupine was not entirely sure what it all meant.

"He looked harmless enough," she ventured finally.

This man; if what Mili said was true; would he know why she had been able to have a child? The possibility alone...

[Milivikal k'Vik]

She would have snorted if her nose hadn't been filled with bacta. Instead, it sounded more like an exasperated sigh.

"He would love nothing more than to splay you about on a dissection table to find out what makes you tick." Mili explained, and felt another pang of guilt about what she had been trying to do.

"Esalis was rather interested in the historical negative birthrate of your people, likely as a proxy for him, Karnage."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il digested the other woman's words.

What she was saying about this man, Karrnage, was intriguing and worrisome at the same time. If he'd survived as the Director had, than it was a fair bet that he'd been taken back to Coruscant to recover. And if the Director had sent Mili on this task, holding the other Jedi's lightsabre as a small bit of collateral...

"You wish to send us to Coruscant, you and I."

It was not a question.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal's jaw set rigid.

"Yes."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The silence that settled between the two was thick as the Lupine leaned back in her seat. What k'Vik was asking... it'd been a long time since she'd been to the city-planet, and with it being Imperial Centre, she was hard-pressed to consider such a thing.

But, that was before she knew of this man, this scholar who immersed himself in Lupines and the lore. Most people thought only of the species as a bedtime story; a fairy tale to scare their children. This man though knew better than to believe that it seemed, and s'Il decided that it would be best to get any information on Karrnage from Dan.

"You make a heavy request," she sighed, closing her eyes before reaching a hand up to rub them.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Regardless of your decision, I have another matter to attend to. I will be on my ship." Her thoughts turned to Orem. He was a problem that might take some time to solve. Milivikal knew he could be broken. His thorough devotion to the Empire would be his undoing.

This could be enjoyable, even.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il watched her leave, sitting quietly for a few seconds before she herself rose to her feet.

For now, the thought of returning to Coruscant was pushed to the back of her mind in favor of finding her daughter.

[Bartleby Orem]

Onboard the shuttle

It was small at first, dancing along the edges of his consciousness. It wasn't long though before the constant stream of whispered words in his ear startled him awake, and Bartleby Orem thrashed involuntarily. His bindings held him fast though, and the Imperial fell still.

He let out a rather pitiful moan through the gag in his mouth; it felt as though an icedriver was been pushed into his skull, and he shut his eyes tight to try and alleviate the pain.

It did little good, and the whispering continued on. He struggled, pushing himself further beneath the bunk and away from the voice before cracking open a single eye.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

The voice followed no matter how much he moved. It's tone was even, hypnotic. Old feelings were pounded down, like a smith shaping a sword. Sometimes it was savage and rough. Other times, the strokes were meticulous.

It went on forever.

[Bartleby Orem]

What was happening?! The mental blows were ceaseless, and Orem - despite that inescapable voice - threw his head back and to the side. Both of his eyes were open now, bloodshot and wild.

That woman! What was she doing?! His mind cried for peace, for an end to the misery she was inflicting. He could feel as years upon years of loyalty were stripped away... the process was beyond words and explanation - it simply was.

A muffled cry, a plea for mercy, left his lips and his eyes rolled back madly into his head before refocusing on the underside of his bunk.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Mercy was not to come. Agony for agony, and it was only a start. Refinements could be made later. This was the 20 grit sandpaper.

[Bartleby Orem]

The Empire... his Empire... dedication to the government he'd sworn to serve and protect. A government that allowed the ends to justify the means, to bring order to every living being - whether they were in need of it or not. It was for their own good.

It was all pulled away, like layers in his mind peeled off to reveal the soft inner portions; ripe and new.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal set to work again, letting Orem wallow in confusion and uncertainty. His causes were gone now, and all he could feel was an unsettling emptiness.

She slowly massaged new goals and impulses into his mind. He would protect Milivikal. She was his sun. Her will was was to be obeyed, but not without question. She wanted an excuse, she wanted him imperfect. She wanted him unsure. She wanted a real reason to be on her toes. Most of all: she wanted him to be useful. If he didn't think and question, he wasn't very much good, was he? No, his stubbornness would be a tool.

This was less painful, with a few exceptional moments where she wanted absolutes, for the panic buttons. She had only done this a few times, so she was cautious. It would be damaging to do it over and over.

[Bartleby Orem]

He was empty. There was nothing. No Empire, No Director. Everything was gone, and in the moment that it was all pulled away, Orem very nearly screamed. His life! His wants and needs; they were gone...

And then nothing. Like a dream that was impossible to recatch, his years of faithful service were no more. He could recall nothing. He simply existed.

In the terrified isolation of his own subconscious then, something began to take shape. He reached for it, hungered for it so that he could attach himself to whatever it was. He needed that thing to define himself and who he was. He needed that purpose for his now empty being.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Orem's answers were folded into his mind as he asked the questions needed to define himself. On some level, he was still an Imperial citizen and generally liked the Empire, but no longer did he feel himself welded to it. Most importantly, he felt far more loyalty to the pale, blue eyed woman who had begun to untie him.

"Listen: we might have a guest soon. Please shower and make yourself more presentable."

[Bartleby Orem]

Released from the bindings, Orem crawled tentatively out from under his bunk. He rose to his feet and rubbed his wrists. The look he gave to the woman before him was now, instead of full of scorn, something akin to measured obedience.

Looking about his small cabin as if for the first time, Orem gave only a small nod before rubbing at his forehead and stepping around her.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She'd spent the better part of an hour wandering the frigate, lost in thought. Returning to Coruscant now was more than dangerous; even if the reward was something that she could only dream of. The matter of this man, Karrnage, weighed heavily upon her, and the Lupine often stopped to watch her daughter cavort around her. Tak, oblivious to whatever it was that was bothering Dama, skipped along happily. She held hands, demanded to be held then put back down, and chattered up a lively storm of nothing in particular.

Her aimless wandering had brought her to the hangar deck eventually, and s'Il stopped a few paces in. Tak held no such restraint, and ran happily about, her arms stuck out to either side as she mimiced the fighters that she saw around her.

In sharp contrast, s'Il stared tiredly at the shuttle that Mili had arrived on. Her blue eye took in every detail with a slow precision before she stepped forward. In sharp contrast to her daughter's energetic pace ahead, behind, and all around her, the elder Lupine kept a steady gait until she reached the closed hatch.

She reached a hand out to the chime button, pressing it gently.

Tak on the other hand, had no such reserve and rapped repeatedly on the shuttle's hull with both palms.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

Milivikal answered the tapping on the hull by opening the side hatch. Her face seemed to float from the relative dark of the small freighter.

"Mmmmm yes?" she asked.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

If Mili's shadowed appearance was a surprise, the Lupine hid it well. She reached a hand out to place it on her daughter's shoulder, keeping the little girl from boarding k'Vik's ship.

"If I were to go with you," s'Il began, "I would need to know more about this man."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"I have all that is available to the layman and then some bonus material. I've not met him myself." She stepped into the light, her appearance became less disconcerting. Instead she looked porcelain.

"I will provide his published academic work, as well." Milivikal paused, considering handing over all of the information she had been provided regarding s'Ilancy, Sanis, the Layla, and whatever other things she had asked for. It was conveniently on one pad, and she already had made backup copies of the data.

"One moment." She disappeared into the ship, and came back. The pad was tattooed with stamps regarding the classification of the contents within. Mili walked down to stand before s'Il, pausing to consider Tak carefully. Tak landed within what she had guessed to be her size and weight, and was pleased. She offered up the Pad.


"Here." She said, with a grin, knowing that it would irritate the Director to no end after she found out.

"Do not plug it into anything else. I would guess it's rather laced with panic measures."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She'd not expected such an immediate answer, and taking the pad, s'Il nodded her thanks. She made a note of Mili's caution, and knew that it would be for the best to do as the woman said.

She did give a small smile though, her blue eye going from the pad to k'Vik.

"You did not expect me to say no, I suspect.

"You know my people well, it seems."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Given your past and knowledge of your history, I expected that you would try to find out as much as possible. Especially given the historical negative birth rate." She paused, considering Tak and her composure.

"I did see a possibility that you might opt out." k'Vik shrugged.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"It must not have been a large possibility," was her absent reply.

The Lupine's gaze followed Mili's line of sight to Tak. Lost in her own thoughts for a moment, she gave a hrmph.

[Teagan s'Ilancy]

Tak however, had lost her cautious nature at the pale woman's surprising entrance, and as most children were want to do, found herself looking behind Mili and up into the darkened interior of the ship. She wondered if there was another little girl aboard to make friends with. After all, Daani had been on Layla.

Still looking past Mili, the little Lupine ventured a question.

<"Where's your little girl?">

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"One has to be ready for eventualities in these times." She said.

Milivikal frowned. Tak was a child in a dim world for adults. She likely wanted to be around other children very much.

<"I have no little girls with me."> It was a good thing, too. k'Vik was not the most graceful with younglings. Still, she shrugged sympathetically.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Reaching a hand out, s'Il laid a gentle palm atop her daughter's head. Her brow furrowed however, as she caught the scent of another. Very different from k'Vik's body scent, this one was heavier.

She locked eyes with Mili.

"There is someone with you."

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"Yes." Mili nodded.

"He shall not be any trouble." Not anymore, she thought smugly. He'd have a dull headache for weeks.

"I wanted to come alone. We seldom seem to get what we want, no?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"He is Imperial, then?!"

The hissed snarl was sharp, and Tak looked up at her mother with a frown.

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"No." No longer.

"He has no loyalty to the Empire."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

To her it made no sense, but the Lupine was trusting of k'Vik. If the woman said it was so, it was so.

She nodded.

"It is your matter; I won't pry. If you tell me he is not Imperial, then he is not Imperial.

"When do you wish to leave?"

[Milivikal k'Vik]

"At your ready." There was little point in dawdling about. As much as one of the last Lupines fascinated her, she could only hide for so long. Milivikal had never been especially patient.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Very well.

"I have a small bit of business to tend to elsewhere. I will send you the coordinates and when to arrive."