Restless

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

They stood alone, father and daughter, on one of the upper balconies that dotted the architectural landscape of the manor belonging to House Losstarot. The sun, a deep orange medallion that was just beginning to kiss the horizon, cast the rays of a dying day, bathing all it touched in an amber hue.

But behind them, she watched. She watched the young girl lifted into her father's arms as he smiled, pointing out at the setting sun and telling her something that the watcher could not hear.

The girl laughed, her dancing eyes looking in the direction he was pointing. His finger moved then to her face, tracing a line down his daughter's face.

The watcher smiled, stepping out from the shadows to approach the two.

She felt the warmth of the sun on her face, in her bones, in the scar that marred her features.

Dan looked back at her as she drew close, and turned so that both he and Teagan faced s'Il.

What she saw stopped her immediately, a hand going to her mouth to muffle the choked cry that escaped.

Teagan grinned at her happily, oblivious to the blistering and boiling line that now bisected her own right eye - an exact duplicate of her mother's. Lazy tendrils of acrid, flesh-tinged smoke wafted up from the fresh wound, and yet the young Lupine seemed to not even realize her injury or the pain that it should've been causing her.

Dan set the girl down, his expression so malevolently joyous at the mutilation he had just caused to his own daughter.

Teagan skipped her way across the stonework, babbling something that the elder Lupine couldn't understand. Her arms lifted as she neared, a wordless request to be picked up. Yet all s'Il could see was the fresh wound, blistering and smoking, skin welling up into tiny boils as if touched by silver. Closer Teagan came, until she was pushing against her, insistent on being held...





A cry, and Loklorien s'Ilancy bolted upright, the blankets that had covered her cast aside to fall on the slumbering body beside her. Her breaths were deep, choked gasps. Sweat mixed with tears were wiped away hastily, and she looked accusingly at the one next to her. Her life-partner. Her master. Face screwing up into a mask of hurt and anger, she resisted the urge to reach over and close her hand around his throat.

Instead, she slid her legs over the side of the bed to sit, her shoulders slumped. Her hand wandered the surface of the nightstand, searching for the small holoprojector that she kept there. Fingers found the slim device, and pushed the button that activated a short recording of Teagan, caught happily playing with a small giddu pup. She picked the exuberant animal up in an ungainly hold, waddling her way ever closer to the holocam.

There was a moment when the image froze, then it faded back to the beginning and repeated.

s'Il continued to stare, and the recording continued to play itself in an endless loop.

[General Dan]

"More nightmares?"

Dan didn't move, his eyes still closed. He knew exactly interrupted his partner's increasingly-fragile sleep.

Untroubled, he awaited Lok's response. Nightmares gave waking reality purpose.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A sigh, and she switched the holo off before leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees. Long hair fell into her face ass he closed her eyes tightly, a hand coming up to pinch at the bridge of her nose.

"Must you continue to do this."

Whether this most recent dream was a product of her own guilt-ridden thoughts or a conjuring of his doing, she cared little and assumed the latter.

[General Dan]

"I'm not responsible for every little thing that goes bump in the night."

He turned to look at her with a bit of curiosity. She was so incensed by her nightmares that she now attributed them to his designs. He wished he could take credit for that.

"You're concerned of the future?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She didn't answer him; not right away at least. With a groan the Lupine pushed herself up to stand. Her clothes from the day before still lay draped over a chair along one of the far walls, and she padded her way to it.

The silence between them as she redressed was broken only by the sounds of cloth upon skin, and when she'd finished s'Il looked back to him. It was written all across her face, the nature of her nightmare and what her subconscious had chosen to torment her with. Her next words only confirmed it.

"Would you harm your daughter... ?"

[General Dan]

Dan thought about that question long and well.

"There are injuries done to us all, that with our petulance and limited wisdom, we mistake for cruelty, when their true scope is hidden from our limited vision."

He propped himself up on an elbow.

"What doesn't kill us makes us stronger. You above all should know that lesson. I made certain you'd see it every day in the mirror."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She didn't bother with her boots; her bare feet would suit her well enough. There was no dramatic exit, no indignant turn as she gave him one last look. In the threshold of the door she paused, half-angling her head to look over her shoulder at him.

"I am going out."

With a voice that threatened to give way, she continued on.

"Go back to sleep."

[General Dan]

Supremely confident in his mastery over his apprentice, the Master eased onto his back again.

"Suit yourself."

Closing his eyes, he again shut her out. There was no cause for concern.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her soft footfalls were noiseless as s'Il quietly stalked her way from their quarters. Even in her troubled state she still moved with a smooth grace, her trek taking her away from the officer's deck and deeper into the Dauntless.

Surely Dan would never hurt their daughter. The very thought of it went against the grain of all that he'd told her in the past. Of his desire for their family to flourish, to grow, to have a life that most only dream of. He had the power to make such a thing a reality - of that she had no doubt. But, her dreams still haunted her, and his answer a frustrating one. She needed quiet. She needed peace from her fears, and desperately she found herself drawn to the only one who might be able to provide that.




* * *


In the cell that had been Zem Vymes' home for so many long months, s'Il sat quietly. She watched him sleep on the cot along the far wall, his back to her. Occupying one of two metal chairs, she sat almost forlornly; shoulders in a lopsided slump, her hair half obscuring her face. Her gaze locked on her old friend's body. Every rise and fall of his form took her back years. However her anger still burned, a simmering resentment against him, the one person she blamed for the loss of her son.

In her hands, in a loose grip, was a comb and a pair of scissors. Zem hadn't been allowed the tools to do it himself, and in a sudden fit of nostalgia the Lupine had brought them with her. They were alone now.

Minutes passed, and still he slept on, until her voice cut across the distance between them. It was a quiet sound.

"Wake up."

[Zem Vymes]

Eyes still closed, a gravelly voice spoke through scraggly beard and parched lips.

"You're a figment of my imagination. Leave me alone. I want to sleep."

Solitary confinement had pressed on in anonymity for nearly an eternity, or what seemed like it. The lines of perception, even when aided by the Force, were malleable.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She gave a slight, laughed hehn at that.

Her head dipped, eyes closing as a smile crept unbidden across her lips. She leaned forward, elbows coming to rest on her knees. Her voice, when she spoke again, held that same youthful innocence and wonderment from long ago. Long ago on the planet that the two of them had called home for nearly a year. Then, it had just been the two of them.

"Wake up," she repeated, followed by those very same words she'd spoken to him from another life.

"It's time for a haircut."

[Zem Vymes]

I cracked an eye at that, suddenly unsure that I was actually dreaming. For a minute, I worked over the sight in front of me, not exactly sure how I could discern between what seemed convincingly flesh, but could certainly be a manifestation of my under-burdened mind.

Finally, certain that a hallucination wouldn't give a logical response, or at least reasonably secure in that belief, I spoke again.

"That's not why you're here."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Still her smile, though now it turned partially sheepish as she held up the comb and scissors for him to see.

He said nothing, only stared, and s'Il let out an exasperated sigh. Her hands fell as she leaned forward, using her momentum to bring herself to her feet, and with only a few strides she was at his cot.

Carefully the Lupine sat along the edge. They watched each other, and with care she reached out to finger the ends of his wildly disheveled mane.

"I'd say it's as good a reason as any other."

[Zem Vymes]

I said nothing, but gave an exhausted nod at her excuse. Slowly, I sat up from my cot and leaned forward, shoulders slumping a bit as I looked forward. Uninterrupted months beneath artificial light and dark had made my skin pale, and given me dark rings under my eyes. Last I'd even looked in the mirror was a month ago, and I looked a mess even then.

"Mmm, well. Best be at it, then."

I'd waited months for her to talk to me. I'd wait longer for her to find the right time to speak.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a motherly overtone to her movements as s'Il set about her task. It was a daunting one to say the least, but it gave her time to ponder. She started at the bottom, running the comb through each tangle with care, worried lest she pull too hard. She worked in silence, slowly evening out his unruly locks. There were a few disapproving looks at the ratted mess, but her ire was more at the fact that it was simply there through no fault of his own. Her mind wandered back to Dan's answer.

Surely he wouldn't purposefully hurt their daughter.

She was midway up his head before she spoke again, her voice soft and yearning as she tried to take herself back to those endless days on a planet that belonged to only them. When the two of them would regale each with any little thought that crossed their minds. On Nan'ss'ume'k, it was just two of them.

"Tall me a story."

[Zem Vymes]

My mind was filled with the singing of metal shears against hair. When she spoke, it seemed to fill my whole head. Watching shreds of locks fall to the floor like dark snowflakes, I asked her a question.

"Happy or sad?"

I wondered with all my heart which one she'd pick.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

s'Il thought about that, pursing her lips as she worked the comb through his hair. The scissors did their work, trimming his hair shorter bit by bit.

"Happy," she finally answered, pursed lips slowly fading into a weak smile.

[Zem Vymes]

I began to speak, telling a story I didn't even hear myself saying. It was one of the old ones I knew from some lifetime ago, picked up in old oral traditions to where the words came out by muscle memory. Something about a bird that built a nest, every year, for ten years, but each year no egg came out. On the tenth year, she built no nest, expecting no egg, but was given twenty. The moral was to plan for good things, even if you don't get any at first. You usually find you get more than you ask for later.

Even as I told the story, my mind wandered beyond it, wondering if I believed it. I'd been building empty nests for a while now.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She worked as he talked, and by the time he'd finished s'Il was nearly done. What had once been a nearly unmanageable mess that fell past his shoulders was now tangle-free, ending at the middle of his neck. She ran a hand through his hair, starting from his forehead and ending at the nape of his neck, fingertips gently scraping along his scalp. His hair was still so thick, so full.

"That is a nice story."

Pausing in her ministrations, the Lupine brushed the remaining clippings from his shoulders until she was satisfied that she'd removed each strand of shorn hair.

"I wish that my dreams ended in such a way."

It was a silent acknowledgment of what had brought her to him in the dead of night. In her mind's eye she saw Teagan once again, looking so expectant and energetic as the line of burned flesh on the right side of her face smoked.

Surely Dan would never purposefully hurt his daughter for the pure sake of it.

She quickly wiped at a forming tear before reaching out to turn Zem's head toward her. It was time to start on his beard.

[Zem Vymes]

Were her eyes tinged in red, where before they weren't? I couldn't tell. Figments of my imagination were everywhere. If I acted on one, I'd have to act on them all.

"Tell me about your dreams?"

Either way, I could feel the yearning in her words. Something she needed, and didn't know how to say it.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Setting to work on his facial hair, s'Il gave a click of her tongue against her cheek, focusing her thoughts on making sure that she didn't accidentally nick him with the tips of the scissors. In doing so, she was able to step away from the precipice of outright tears.

"Oh, they've not changed much."

It was the best offhand approach she could make, knowing that he knew what she was subtly admitting to.

A majority of his beard she simply cut off - it was too wild to even hope to brush out. With that done, she set about running the comb through it. Much easier. Yet still she cut, little snips here and there, evening out one side before going to the other.

s'Il stalled, but knew that Zem would ever be patient. He had always been so, even now.

"They are not by his hand any more, but by my own thoughts. I've not decided yet whether it is a good or a bad thing."

[Zem Vymes]

"Come to talk a thing or two about being in prison?"

I looked up at her as I said that, a touch of empathy in my eyes.

"I don't envy yours."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She was quick to defend herself, using words that she'd used before.

"It is not so bad as you might think."

As fingers ran across his jawline, making sure that each hair was acceptable, a crack in her otherwise casual facade began in the form of cording neck muscles. It traveled upward, and her jaw clenched shut. She held his gaze for a moment longer than she should have, and trying to break her eye free, she forced a smile while gently patting his cheek.

"You look much better now," she whispered.

[Zem Vymes]

I didn't say anything to that. Every part of her appearance here was a sign of conflict. Her actions, her voice, and her face, all served to highlight this. I gently reached up, placing my hand over hers, as she rested it against my face.

"Thank you for coming back.

Now, let me help you."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Now her eye did leave, tracking to the side and down as she bit her lip. Such an old habit that Zem had been witness to countless times. A long exhale, and s'Il shut her eyes tightly. She made no move to dislodge her hand from his.

"He does not have all of me."

It was said so quietly that if he'd not been listening he'd not have heard it.

[Zem Vymes]

"I've never lost faith in you."

I spoke with a bit of iron in my voice.

"Even in this place.

Now, have faith in yourself. Don't do it for me, or for anything too grand or noble to grab hold of and hold onto. You know why you ought to. You know."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"No - "

Her brow furrowed, and shaking her head the Lupine pulled her hand away.

"You don't understand."

She reached up to rub at her temple. She could have spoken a dozen words, but why do that when only one was needed? Her voice dropped again.

"... A'yane'ra... "

[Zem Vymes]

My eyes slowly widened as I realized what she now meant. Calmly, I stood up, gently placing hands to either side of her face, and looking into her eye.

"That bit of witch-doctoring from the old religion? I thought that was just a tall tale."

My mind began to pull itself together as I thought about her words. Was she deceiving me? I felt nothing of that sort.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

His hands on her face were warm, and though calloused from hard years, they were comforting all the same. The single tear that she'd wiped at reformed, trickling from her sightless eye to snake its' way down her cheek, stopped from descending further by his index finger.

"It was all I had left."





Twenty-five years ago...


"Hmm?"

She'd spoken it without thinking, her mind elsewhere, her body unwilling to move the muscles required to turn her head and look at Zem.

It was rare that they were allowed much downtime these days, and whatever she could get, she greedily took. Now, holed up in a base camp on a planet that she couldn't remember the name of, s'Il was vaguely aware that the sun was setting through the grime-encrusted window of their small room. She'd tried cleaning the year's-old greyish film from the glass, but no matter her effort, it had stubbornly refused to be cleaned. She'd finally given up after twelve minutes of dedicated scrubbing, tossing the washrag onto the sill in mild frustration.

Zem had laughed, picked up one of her old books, and fell onto the 'bed' to read as she settled for casing the rest of the room, determined to rid it of any other filth that might be found.

There was a lot to find.

Engrossed in the task of examining a portion of the baseboards, the Lupine didn't even realize he'd asked her a question until he called to her for a second time.

[Zem Vymes]

"A'yane'ra?"

My grasp of Bast'yr was still at roughly an infant's feeble understanding. I got the basics, but this eluded me, even with the cryptic illustration on the page opposite.

"What's all this about?"

Might have been just some old-spun puffery, but I couldn't really be sure. Lupines sure did like their story traditions, and this one might very well be a case of fantasy passing as a kind of history, or vice versa.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She blinked a few times at that word.

"Oh. That."

It was probably inevitable that he'd come across that page, and s'Il waved a hand dismissively behind her.

"It's nothing. Just some old superstition."

Still turned away from him, she rolled her eyes at the thought - her ancestors were so grounded in science that it boggled the mind to think that they prescribed to anything so... baseless and useless.

[Zem Vymes]

"Mmm."

With a shrug, I went on, but still a bit curious, I stopped my reading, and looked up.

"Well, you can't leave me hanging like that. Tell me about it."

Eschewing the book for a moment, I propped up on an elbow as I intended to get more than just some book learnin' out of this superstition.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She made a face that he couldn't see, features screwing up at the thought of having to explain the A'yane'ra. But, she still obliged, rocking back onto her haunches and rising to her feet. It was a reluctant pace that she took to the bed, and lowering herself to sit on its' edge, s'Il reached out for the book. He handed it to her, and she set it between them, open to the page he'd been reading.

Precise handwriting filled one page, and the other held a cryptic illustration - much like some sort of guide. It depicted two profiles, both looking at one another, short notes jotted down in certain areas with lines drawn to indicate their meaning withing the illustrations. Three disembodied hands lined the bottom of the page, the fingers of each arranged in different positions. These too had descriptive notations.

"A'yane'ra is an old ritual. I don't know when it came about, or who thought it up."

Her hands smoothed the pages out of habit.

"It is like... " she paused as her mind tried to piece the best approximation in Basic.

"... soul-sharing."

[Zem Vymes]

My face must've been that of a skeptic's.

"Telepathy?"

For a supposed superstition, this all looked rather technical. A lot of trouble to go through for a story, but then I'd seen books of 'alchemy' that some races swore by that involved cocktails of manure, arsenic, and grain alcohol, so maybe there was still much ado about nothing.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Hardly."

She inhaled deeply, thinking about how best to explain this piece of hogwash. Just the notion of it had given her fits for years.

"It is a way to store your inner being into another. The carrier is then the guardian of your essence until you are able to retrieve it."

She frowned - it sounded like utter rot; moreso when she spoke of it aloud.

Passing a hand over the page of illustrations, s'Il shook her head, her eyes closing.

"It is rubbish."

[Zem Vymes]

She spoke so dismissively of it, it was either truly rubbish, or something so absurd and real that she didn't have the energy to explain. I accepted the former because it was just easier to do so. I thought about the grander scheme of the idea though, my face looking no less incredulous.

"That would take some amount of trust that I don't reckon I've got for most anyone. Why would somebody do that?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

At that she gave an honest, if not bewildered look to him. A shrug, then she lifted an arm to idly scratch at the base of her scar.

"I've no idea."

A few more minutes of thought, and s'Il shook her head, reaching out to close the book.

"Whatever the reason - and even assuming it's not just a few pages worth of bantha drek, I can't imagine anyone thinking it a good idea to place their soul in the care of another."




Present day...


His hands on her face were warm, and though calloused from hard years, they were comforting all the same. The single tear that she'd wiped at reformed, trickling from her sightless eye to snake its' way down her cheek, stopped from descending further by his index finger.

"It was all I had left."

[Zem Vymes]

So it was real after all, and she used it.

I pulled her close to my chest in an embrace, only able to imagine the depth of her desperation that would bring her to that. Neither of us could ever consider trusting another soul enough for it, so then...

"...who?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She felt his arms go around her, and closing her eyes, s'Il rested her head against his chest. It was familiar. It felt so... right. Her own arms stayed at her sides for only moments before winding up to wrap around his back.

His question was met with a long minute of silence.

Until, in a small voice barely at a whisper even, she answered.

"Byl Laprovik."

[Zem Vymes]

"By the Force, that's a kind of desperation I've never heard of."

From the little I knew of the man, Laprovik was a hard man, so burned by the galaxy at large that he reacted to every facet of it like an angry dog. He trusted nobody, suspected everybody, and played his cards close to his chest. With friends like these...

"Where's Byl now?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She tried to pull away from him, but he seemed reluctant to let her go, instead keeping her close. The Lupine thought about forcefully removing herself from his embrace, but allowed herself a few more moments of... of what?

Of home.

He was, and always would be, her home. Her only. If she subscribed to the notion of fate, then she would've blamed her lot in life on it. But no; she existed - she lived - because her Master willed it. She could never forget, and he would make sure that she never forgave.

"I don't know where he is," she finally ventured.

And still she allowed Zem to hold her. Her arms retracted, moving to slide up his chest and grip his shoulders.

"Will you find him for me?"

[Zem Vymes]

I thought about that request. I was still her prisoner. Why was she asking me to do that which she was capable of, and risk turning me loose?

"For you..."

I knew that Decepis still had a hold over her. I knew it was true. But I had to believe in her, that some part of her was here. Not simply tucked away in the mind of a paranoid rebel, but also here.

"...for you I will."

Maybe along the way, I could find some way to break her free from the snares of the Sith that held her hostage within the Dark Side. I had to believe there was salvation for her, even when so much precedent of the dark times told me this should be a lost cause.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

What she did next was so wholly unexpected that even she was unprepared.

Her grip on his shoulders tightened, and lifting her head from the comfort offered by his chest, the Lupine raised herself to her toes. Her lips met his only just barely, unsure whether he would reciprocate.

[Zem Vymes]

I met her lips, closing my eyes to wish with all my might it was her I was still kissing. Hope springs eternal, and I saw something in her expression that kept that flame alive.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She was whole once more, if not for only a short time. Held in his embrace, s'Il surrendered herself to the past, and to what she wished that her future could have been. If it was anything now, it would be up to him. Her kiss was a passionate one, conveying all of her wishes and emotion. All of the years that they'd been apart. Her heartache and despair. Her hope, her trust, her desire...

... and her love.

When she pulled away, her eyes refused to open. If they did, the moment would pass.

"He took what was rightfully yours," she whispered.

Her hands traveled up to bring his head down, their foreheads touching as she clung to his presence. His proximity.

There was a pained touch to her features then, as her brow furrowed. Why couldn't this moment stretch into eternity?

"I have to go," she murmured in sorrow.

[Zem Vymes]

Now parted again, he felt cold as he ever did during his solitary confinement. The difference is that he could see the glow of warmth over the horizon, calling him, and inviting him. He wouldn't lose his way.

"Then it would seem I do as well."

How she intended to send him after Byl Laprovik, he could only guess. That would no doubt be revealed in time.

"May the Force be with you, Loklorien s'Ilancy."

He dipped his head to her, hoping to see her again soon.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her departure was a quiet one, her hand holding the scissors and comb that she'd brought in with her. In her wake she'd left the one man her heart and should truly belonged to. The Lupine knew that much. It was a strange pace that she set, returning to the quarter she shared with Dan. Each step closer to her Master brought her mind back to turmoil - back to once unsure thoughts that grew more solid the closer she came.

Surely Dan would not purposefully hurt their daughter. And any punishment he would turn her way would be deserved.

By the time she depressed the door panel, her face had once more resumed the coolness that it always held. Once she stepped inside - away from the rest of the Dauntless' crew and in the sole presence of Darth Decepis, her countenance was like an unmoving stone; without forgiveness or mirth. She'd effectively shut Zem Vymes out.

There was only the Dark now. The Dark and her Master.

It was a strange sort of warmth that glinted in her eyes now - a warmth that was tempered in steel and hate.

As the door closed behind her, s'Il moved to set the comb and scissors on a small console table.

[General Dan]

"Did you find what you needed?"

Dan lay as he did when she left him. His eyes still remained closed, but he most certainly felt her enter.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Coming into the bedroom, s'Il stopped at the foot of the bed to stand immobile, staring down at her Master. In his features was the blackness that she had given herself to, the bitterness and hate. She lived because he willed it to be so, and she accepted that.

"Perhaps."

Still she stood, and her hands moved to clasp in front of her.

"What needed to be found?"

[General Dan]

"Whatever it was that you left for."

The corners of Dan's mouth turned up in a slight smile even as his eyes remained closed.

"Fresh air, perhaps."

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

He was playing with her, and not for the first time s'Il found herself - not angered - but rather annoyed. She even went so far as to roll her eye.

"You may stop acting like a fool, you know."

She moved then, and in the process of removing her shirt, the Lupine went on.

"It occurs to me that a heavy hand does not always yield the best results. A lighter touch is necessary."

Her pants followed, placed once more on the chair she'd taken them from.

"Something I think you're familiar with."

[General Dan]

"There are mercies I give you as freely as the air you breathe that you take for granted. Don't forget they exist.

Or do you think I have been less than merciful?"

His eyes opened, and he sat up, now intrigued by her vexations.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"Perhaps I am being to subtle then," she snapped.

The Lupine crawled into the bed, her body moving like a stalking cat as she kept her narrowed gaze locked with his. She seemed to move without moving, and in the next instant she was inches from his face. She could feel a sharp intake of breath from him, and it caused her a moment of inner glee.

"There are emotions that I can still exploit, and if they will allow me the opportunity to divine for you the current location of your child, then I will do what I must to bring her back to you."

He still said nothing, and her eyelids closed halfway, her voice lowering.

"I went to pay a visit to Zem Vymes."

[General Dan]

"Oh, he's still alive?"

Dan arched an eyebrow.

"I was certain you'd tired of that plaything. What of him?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"You know well enough that he's still alive."

It was a mild rebuke.

"And as long as the possibility exists that he will tell me where Teagan is, I will not tire of him."

Her finger poked at his chest then.

" - and neither should you."

[General Dan]

"And when he does?"

Dan smiled cryptically.

"Thanks all around? Job well done?"

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

Her annoyance returned, and the Lupine pulled away from him. The lines of her face were set in an indifferent mask.

"When does, you will kill him."

Now came the goading, and her voice lowered to a sultry, almost provoking tone.

"Unless your eyes aren't the only thing about you that are yellow... "

[General Dan]

His eyes narrowed dangerously as he smirked.

"I recall it was you who stayed your hand - twice when you otherwise should have finished the task. Perhaps before you question my resolve, you should think that over."

A dark thought crossed his mind, and he raised a finger to emphasize it.

"In fact, Acera, I think it's time for a demonstration of your prowess. That floating herd of sheep you call the Wheel, I think it's high time you single out one of its passengers and destroy them. Leave no trace of your presence."

[Darth Acera]

It had been a long time since he'd called her by the name he'd given to her, and she closed her eyes. What he spoke of she disregarded; set to the side in favor of the feeling that washed over her. Her eyes closed and she angled her head up, feeling as if a sheen of - something - was washed away from her. Her lips parted, and a light hiss escaped. Such a feeling! To be so completely unmasked in the presence of the one who had taken you. The one who had broken your resolve and rebuilt you to something so different.

When she opened her eyes, there was a malevolent glint hiding behind them, and the once normal blue of her left was tinged with tendrils of pale yellow that seemed to move of their own accord, weaving through each blue strand that still remained.

Acera defended herself then, unwilling to stand for the accusations that Decepis made against her.

"If memory serves me correctly, you were rather overjoyed at what I did to Byl Laprovik."

That feeling again, and she rolled her neck in the aftermath before going on.

"And as for Zem, you have already told me that you would end his life once he gives us Teagan."

She reached out, deflecting his raised finger to the side with a gentle hand.

"So let's not point fingers, shall we?"

[General Dan]

"My point remains."

He steepled his fingers before him, undaunted by her vitriol.

"You have yet to consummate your fealty to me in blood. I think it is time you change this."

His mouth turned into a slight smile.

"Choose your instrument however you please. I want justification in the time I've spent on you."

[Darth Acera]

Her own eyes narrowed, and Acera settled herself at his side, propped up on an elbow so that she could stare at him.

"Justification... "

Her repeated words were whispered, and a disapproving twist of her lips marred her features. His behavior was infuriating, and the Lupine resisted the urge to bury her fingers into his chest, digging until his black heart was in her hand.

"Very well."