The Road to Maturity (open)

[SashaKovalev]

Life was one thousand times better now that he didn’t have so much hatred. Years ago, as a member of the Sith Order, even as a member of the Hand, he had worn his anger on his sleeve – worn it like a badge of courage. He’d taken extreme amounts of pride in it, in the flurry of emotion, in simply losing his temper simply because…well…because he could.

The hatred had faded. The anger, oh, the anger was still there. Anger at not having a father. Anger with his uncle and his master for continuously treating him like a child. But it was toned down. He’d learned to control it. Learned that anger wasn’t the answer. In fact, it got him in to more trouble, than actually out of it.

He’d been taking classes at the Balmorran University – flight school to be exact, with a minor in Balmorran History. And on the side…well, when he wasn’t training, he did an awful lot of writing and reading. For fun.

Years ago, he wouldn’t have admitted to anyone that he was somewhat of a scholar. Call it the foolishness of youth, the cocky, forever young sort of spirit. He’d matured. No longer was he the kid that had once been a proud member of the Sith Order, known about the galaxy as Sasha Kovalev. He didn’t look back on his days with TSO with regret, but rather, with the feeling that he had come a long way since then. And now, he went by his given name, a name he felt he had earned the right to call himself. Because he did feel he had become a kid worthy of calling himself by the name his father, a great and brave man, had given him. Yes, Alexander Millard had matured a hell of a lot.

His expression might not have changed over the years – his face always echoing the somewhat serious nature within, but it did still serve him well. He reached to brush a bit of water from his shoulder that had dripped from the cooling vents in the building above as he walked down the sidewalk. A slight roll of his eyes and a sigh. Given. The cloak he wore was brand new – it was such a given that already, dirty water would have dripped down upon it. But no matter.

He was dressed as any other on the street, carrying a blaster, despite the fact that he would likely not need it. And beneath the cloak, out of sight, he carried a saber, which he did not intend to have need of either.

Violet eyes peered about, flickering from person to person, building to passing speeder. It wasn’t done nervously, but simply as one who was wise to being prepared might do. Or perhaps, he was simply observant and liked to look about. In his hand, he carried a book and a journal. A journal in which he kept notes of his readings. And the book he carried was on of Balmorran History. He’d read several volumes now, but there was always something new, he’d found, when the book was written from a different perspective. And more, a recent play he had watched had piqued his interest. Not only in the history of Balmorra, but the future of it.

His intention was to go somewhere quiet and read for a few hours. He had taken a trip and this was a bit of a layover while several of the hoses on his ship were replaced. He’d noticed the problem when the hyper drive had been slow to shift into gear. And certainly, it wasn’t a problem he wanted lingering about. Being lost in space wasn’t exactly on his list of things he wanted to accomplish.

He ran a hand through his tousled hair and continued down the busy streets, pausing at the door to a tavern of interest.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"That stuff will kill you, you know." A woman with laughing eyes and dark black hair was walking across the street towards him. De'Ville laughed at the look on his face, and pointed to his books. "Knowledge. People always die either from a lack of knowledge, or when they know too much."

[SashaKovalev]

That stuff will kill you, you know.

The voice had been familiar, though not one that he knew particularly well enough to recognize immediately. And he had turned at the sound of it, for he had felt it directed towards him. Violet eyes came to focus on Lilaena De’Ville. This was a woman he knew – if you could call it that.

His first few experiences with the woman had not been pleasant. The later few had been…well, they were on speaking terms, thanks, perhaps, to the fact that they had at one time both been members of a rather selective group of dark jedi and Sith called the Black Hand. Now all that remained of this group were shards…shards scattered throughout the galaxy. He did not altogether trust her, and didn’t particularly have a reason to do so. But he was not paranoid, and had no reason to believe she wished him ill will as she continued to cross the street, headed, it seemed, in his direction.

He might have given her an odd look, wondering what, exactly, would kill him.

Knowledge. People always die either from a lack of knowledge, or when they know too much.

He had offered her a faint grin at this, and the slightest roll of his eyes. True. Very true. And so then it must be that there was a very fine line to be walked in regards to knowledge. Too little would surely do you in. Too much made you, perhaps, lazy. And then, too, would bring about your doom.

“Lilaena De’Ville…” He stated in a greeting of sorts. Brown hair, blonded from the sun shifted the slightest from the breeze created by a rather large freighter speeder as it barreled through the streets not wanting to stop for the shift in traffic lights.
His smile broadened as she approached, and he held a hand up towards the sky to block the sun that shone into his eyes now that the clouds above had shifted.

“Trouble finds me in the strangest of places….” He commented, suggesting that Lilaena herself, was a woman of which he was wary. Though, his words were in no way insulting. Rather, they might have carried an amused tone to them.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Yes, and when you least expect it, as well." Now standing beside him, just outside the tavern doors, she read the title of his book. "Balmorran history... must be fascinating." A barabel left the tavern and brushed by them, it's thick tail twitching slightly as it looked at her.

She was wearing clothes of a similar cut to Jedi robes, only done in black and red with ornate embroidery on the cuffs. De'Ville nodded politely to the barabel, who returned it with a gesture of respect, and moved on. "I did not expect to find you, Kovalev, but I do wish to speak to you. It is about Feliciana Devano."

[SashaKovalev]

Balmorran history... must be fascinating.

He did not respond to this. It was best, he had found, to wear his pride on the inside, rather than throwing it in the faces of all who came in contact with him. The history was fascinating – and what was more interesting to him were the prophesies – something which he was studying. By reviewing the history, he could see which prophesies had come true….and perhaps, from there, he could begin to guess what else might come to pass.

Not that he would ever assume to be able to see the future. He was not a seer by any means. He was simply a scholar. And a warrior.

Yes, he was maturing. He studied it because it did interest him. He was becoming more and more like his uncle – though a part of him, when provoked enough, revealed that he was indeed his father’s son. One of a firey temper.

As the barabel left the tavern and brushed by them, Sasha’s eyes might have flickered over Lilaena’s robes, and then back to her face.

I did not expect to find you, Kovalev,

At the mention of Kovalev, his expression had clearly expressed mirth. He had not been called such a thing in some time now – and Lilaena was the one who had always, always called him by this. He wasn’t sure he’d ever heard him address him otherwise.

…but I do wish to speak to you. It is about Feliciana Devano.

The amused expression vanished at this revelation. Visibly, he might have stiffened some.

“Then truly, trouble has found me….” He commented, his gaze flickering to the door of the tavern as he released a quiet sigh.

“Perhaps you’d like to join me for a drink…” The youngest (at this point in time) of the Millards suggested.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"A drink would be refreshing on a day like today." She walked in before him as he held the door for her, and found a quiet enough table. "Tell me, do you prefer going by Sasha, or Alexander? The Millards are a tightlipped bunch, and to tell the truth, I have never gotten used to your inherited last name. If you prefer it, I will try to stop calling you Kovalev." She smiled, "I just got into a habit. By your smile, I know you noticed it."

[SashaKovalev]

A drink would be refreshing on a day like today.

He had held the door for her, and as she had passed through, his gaze had lingered upon her. Oh, truly, trouble had found him.
The young man could honestly not remember a time when he’d had a normal conversation with this woman. He wondered what it was she had in store for him today.

As she took a seat at a quiet enough table, he too, pulled out a chair, and removed his cloak. He draped it over the back of his chair, and then took a seat across from her, wondering as he did, just what was in store.

Tell me, do you prefer going by Sasha, or Alexander? The Millards are a tightlipped bunch, and to tell the truth, I have never gotten used to your inherited last name. If you prefer it, I will try to stop calling you Kovalev.

He had given her perhaps a bit of an odd look – fully surprised by her offer. It wasn’t one he’d expected out of her, and perhaps she had noticed this.

I just got into a habit. By your smile, I know you noticed it.
He chuckled then, reaching for the cloth napkin that protected the utensils and pushing it a bit out of his way.

“Kovalev will be fine.” He replied with an easy grin, “I’m not sure I could get used to you calling me anything different.” He added, leaning back in his chair just a bit.

They were approached then by a server droid, who disappeared only moments after the orders were taken. The disruption behind them, Alexander focused his full attention on Lilaena De’Ville.

“You mentioned you wanted to speak with me about something….tell me, would you sought me out concerning this, or have the hands of fate simply stuck their meddling fingers in pot?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She watched him carefully as he placed his order. He was young and strong, and it was no wonder that Feliciana still held onto hope that they would still be together. Her conversations with the girl had gone differently that she'd expected - not that she'd expected much of anything, having gone into the entire situation blind.

“You mentioned you wanted to speak with me about something….tell me, would you sought me out concerning this, or have the hands of fate simply stuck their meddling fingers in pot?” He returned her gaze, and she shrugged her slim shoulders lightly.

"Perhaps if I believed in fate, I would say yes. But I believe in destinies. And I believe that meeting you here was fortuitous in that regard. As to seeking you out personally, I did plan my trip to Balmorra for that purpose." De'Ville folded her hands in her lap as she spoke, leaning back slightly and relaxing.

[SashaKovalev]

He failed to see how destiny and fate differed –but it wasn’t worth arguing. Such philosophical discussions were, in his mind, a waste of time. Everyone had their own beliefs, their own gods to believe in, and really, he wasn’t on any sort of campaign for Fate. Destiny would do just as well.

At her suggestion that she had been about to seek him out on Balmorra, he leaned forward the slightest bit. His elbows came to rest on the table, his hands plainly in front of him – in full sight. One hand crossed over the other, his thumbs forming a bit of a steeple.

“Very well.” He replied to the silence she had allowed to follow her words, “I’ll bite.”

Broad shoulders were still held proud, and his violet eyes looked to her, his head held only slightly canted in a mixture of curiosity and confidence.

“What is so important that you would have sought me out on Balmorra to discuss it?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"It is a proposition, of course. But first I must know, your feelings for the Devano woman. Do they still run strong?" She took a sip from the water a serving droid had set in front of her as she waited for Kovalev to sort out his answer.

[SashaKovalev]

“Lady De’Ville….” Alexander began, his violet eyed gaze fixating on her, “You think me a slow learner.”

He knew, at first, that she did not comprehend the meaning behind his comment, and so, he continued, his next sentence intended to explain.

“I haven’t forgotten your warning to me in Bast Castle, you know, about the dangers of relationships.” This was said rather pointedly, and was intended not only to explain his earlier statement, but also why he was not, just yet, going to tell her anything in regards to his feelings for Feliciana Devano.

“Perhaps you might tell me a bit about this proposition, first….”

He was maturing, that was for sure. For him to remain so calm, so collected….surely his uncle, Taylor Millard, was beginning to wear off on him just a bit. And it was...perhaps, a good thing.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She grinned at that. "Ah well, yes, enough about her. I wonder how you would feel about taking on an apprentice."

[SashaKovalev]

This was an interesting proposition indeed. And entirely unexpected. During his time with the Sith Order, he had, for some time, taken apprentices. The first had perished during a training mission. The second had turned traitor and perished as a traitor should. The third had needed some time away, for her own personal demons were interfering too much with her ability to learn. All in all, taking apprentices had not been, for him, a good experience, really.

It took time and effort. And it truly was a lot of work.

And it was essential that he balance the flattery of Lady De’Ville believing him a capable master, and the seriousness of such a commitment. And certainly – and perhaps most importantly – who this apprentice was to be. And why…why Lady De’Ville felt him the appropriate person to teach the art of using the force.

“I’ll admit that you’ve perhaps surprised me….” He began with a somewhat amused expression. It was then that the droid arrived with their drinks, and conversation paused for a moment. When the droid had left, Alexander Millard was left with a pint of ale, on which he tapped his fingers somewhat idly.

He was yet to earn the actual title of master – and knew it was perhaps a long time coming with a master like Wargrave. It wasn’t that Sasha lacked he skills, but rather it was that Wargrave was particularly hard on him. And perhaps withheld the title simply to make Alexander Millard work just a bit harder than he might have worked under the tutelage of another. One day, Sasha would understand the motivation behind this, but for now, he still remained in the dark.

This did not, however, prevent him from having the knowledge and the skills to teach another.

"How would I feel about it?" He shrugged a bit.

"I wouldnt rule it out." He replied with a somewhat thoughtful expression.

He picked up his glass and leaned back in his seat. The fingers of his left hand, a mechanical one to replace the one he had cut off with his own saber for his former master, Lady Vader, tapping on the scarred wooden top of the table. The other raised the glass to his lips and he took a drink as he considered her proposition.

“Why me?” He asked.

“Why would you need me to take on an apprentice for you?” He did not ask this to be flattered. He asked it because truly, he did wonder why. And if he was to teach someone, this was something he felt was appropriate to know. It would not necessarily change the way he taught them, but it would, perhaps, have an influence. If....he agreed to take on such a project.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Her eyes betrayed nothing to him as she sipped her water, watching him mull over what she'd said. "Why? Because I cannot train everyone. I find it nearly impossible to be in two places at once. The Force is strong in me...but not that strong." De'Ville winked.

[SashaKovalev]

Her answer made sense enough. But still, a part of him did wonder why she had come to him. Afterall, they had not ever really been close. And beyond being part of the same group of individuals, a group that had since disbanded, he hadnt had an opportunity to learn to trust her.

She was one who seemed to keep to herself – at least, where he was concerned. But then, the opportunity had never really arisen for him to get to know her well. But she – she had trusted him enough to let him beyond the threshold of Bast Castle – that experience, he remembered vividly.

And so, he supposed, it was worth it now to give her the benefit of the doubt.

“And who is the one that you would entrust to my teachings?” He asked, leaning forward again, his elbows coming to rest on the table in interest.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She saw that she had his interest piqued, and smiled inwardly. "A very important man. His name is Giran, but I cannot tell you much more. Unfortunately, the cliche strikes again. I could tell you, but if you turned on me I would indeed have to kill you."

De'Ville smiled a bit, "And I really do not want to have to do that. Suffice to say he is a leader of sorts, and of course Force sensitive. I discovered him on a planet not too far from Balmorra." She leaned in a bit closer. "There are others of us on the planet as well. Your uncle was going to join us, but I fear he has been waylaid by his responsibilities to the Empire once more."

[SashaKovalev]

A very important man. His name is Giran, but I cannot tell you much more. Unfortunately, the cliche strikes again. I could tell you, but if you turned on me I would indeed have to kill you.

Alexander Millard was a humble kid. It was difficult not to be, with the sort of life that he had lead. Raised by a heartbroken single mother without much of a means of support, he had always been a hard worker. He had left his left his last year of schooling to take up a job to support his mother with her illness, and after her death, finally left the remote planet in search of something more.

Driven by anger and a knowledge of his sensitivities, he had sought out the Sith Order. His time there had been well spent – working hard for a master who was as kind as a woman like Lady Vader could be. And now, under the tutelage of his uncle and Wargrave, he was still a hardworking kid. Living in a castle didn’t change that about him – he’d come from far too humble beginnings for it to affect him.

And so at the mention of teaching someone very important, he might have had doubts. Who was he, but one man in the galaxy of millions. Who was he to teach someone important?


And I really do not want to have to do that. Suffice to say he is a leader of sorts, and of course Force sensitive. I discovered him on a planet not too far from Balmorra.

He found this piece of information interesting, and reserved this thought in the back of his mind. He would have to ask his uncle of such things when he returned.

His interest piqued particularly more as De’Ville leaned in a bit closer, as if to tell him something she did not want others to hear.

There are others of us on the planet as well. Your uncle was going to join us, but I fear he has been waylaid by his responsibilities to the Empire once more.

His green eyes might have narrowed a bit. Always, always, he
felt as if he were treated as a child. As the young one who needed guidance. And…true. He did need guidance. But sometimes…sometimes he wished his uncle would trust him to handle things on his own. His uncle had been planning to be here…to overlook? But then….he wasn’t. He wasn’t here.

So...perhaps this was the opportunity for Alexander Millard to come into his own.

“You’ve spoken with my uncle about this?” He asked, curious to hear what his uncle’s thoughts might have been.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

De'Ville shook her head, "No, as far as I am concerned what goes on between you and I is not his concern. You are not his apprentice anymore, and therefore someone at one time deemed you capable of making decisions on your own."

He was sitting back now, trying to appear casual about this, but she could sense some of his emotions. He was interested, and curious. She sat back in her chair as well as their food arrived. The droid server refilled her ice water, and De'Ville picked up her sandwich. "I can give you coordinates if you wish to...check things out."

[SashaKovalev]

I can give you coordinates if you wish to...check things out.

To trust….or….not to trust. Taking coordinates and going there was…well…it was either something he could trust or something he couldn’t.

Essentially, he was either going to honestly find an apprentice there, or he was going to find himself in a trap. Understandably, and perhaps intelligently, warning flags did go off in the back of his mind.

It wasn’t that he was inherently distrustful – but rather, he was cautious.

Violet eyes glanced down at the food in front of him. He lifted the bun of the sandwich, as if checking to be sure it was what he ordered, using the moment to stall as he considered his next few words. And then, his violet eyes lifted to look back at De’Ville.

His uncle was an important man. And Sasha knew that as his nephew, he was vulnerable to being used as bait from time to time. His thoughts flickered to the time he had given coordinates to De’Ville to meet up with Feliciana – she had trusted him. And it was possible now that she was banking on the idea that he would trust her in return. It was possible he was walking into a trap. Only, for the life of him, he could not think of a reason why De’Ville would have such intentions.

But just as prominent on his mind, was why she would select him to take on one of her apprentices.


“The coordinates would be helpful.” He replied with the smallest of nods. He reached for the ketchup. Some had been rather messily spilled down the bottle and he grimaced as he now found it on his hand. He reached for a napkin to wipe it off as he continued, “Why is Giran the apprentice you’ve chosen to give to someone else as opposed to teaching him yourself? Why not one of the others?”

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She had just taken a bite from her sandwhich, and used the time she took to chew and swallow to think over his question. Why indeed? Giran was the king of Onderon. It would make sense for her to ally herself most closely with him.

But in order for Iziz City to remain as it was...in a permanent state of stalemate between the beastriders and the Mandalorians, it was necessary for her to remain only as Giran's advisor. It would be too hard not to start ordering him around. Not that she didn't, from time to time, but if the beastriders thought she had total control of Giran, then they would most certainly revolt.

It was a fine line. Giran needed to be trained, to be brought into the Circle fully. Then no beast would wrest Onderon and Dxun from their grasp. But in order to do that, she needed a third party. Someone she could trust, and who would make things interesting for the Beastrider officer turned king. Plus, Sasha was still young. Still mallable...

...if need be, she was sure he could be open to suggestions from time to time. It would have to be played carefully, if it was done.

Swallowing, De'Ville dabbed at her mouth with a napkin, and then answered. "Because I work for him, in a way. It is actually quite complicated. However, if you come to the planet I will be quite willing to explain it all to you."

[SashaKovalev]

He placed the ketchup covered napkin off to the side and twisted the cap from the bottle. As the red substance oozed onto the edge of his plate, he considered De’Ville’s offer. Certainly, anything occurring on a planet close to Balmorra was of interest to not only him, but his uncle, he was sure. And perhaps for that one reason alone, he was willing to take the chance to go there and learn a bit more, first hand, about it.

Aside from that, there were other reasons. De’Ville, he knew, was someone you would be better to keep as an ally than enemy. And this favor was perhaps a way to gain her trust and maybe form a bond of sorts. It was an opportunity that had not come knocking before – and besides, Feliciana trusted the woman. Though, he couldn’t always trust her judgment – afterall – she had followed Jeseth and joined the Krath….but then, everyone made mistakes.

And beyond all of this, he was reaching a point where there would be much to be gained from teaching another. Students, he knew, sometimes made the best teachers, as they sometimes asked questions to which answers had not yet been found. They forced the teacher to keep learning themselves.

He dipped a fry into the ketchup and took a bite. And when he’d swallowed, he nodded.

“Alright. I’ll come to this planet you speak of.” He agreed. His gaze flickered to his ale and then back to the woman before him.

“But Im not promising anything.” He added, somewhat pointedly. It wasn’t that he would refuse – it was just that he wasn’t going to agree to anything without first being fully informed.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Certainly. I understand." She put her sandwich down on her plate and reached into her tunic, pulling out a datacard. "The coordinates are on this. I assure you they are quite safe, and free of grav wells or black holes, and there is indeed a planet there. Once I give you these, you will of course be able to reference the name of the planet. And that will probably give you more questions for when you arrive."

De'Ville slid the card across the tabletop, and then tossed a credit chit on the table. "For lunch. I am afraid my time is limited and I must leave you."

[SashaKovalev]

Alexander looked for a moment as the card that was slid across the tabletop to him. And then he reached for it, studying it for a moment. A credit chit being tossed onto the table drew his attention. He raised an eyebrow in silent question.

”For lunch. I am afraid my time is limited and I must leave you.”

He leaned back in his seat then, the card still in hand. He sighed softly and nodded.

She was like this, he had noticed. Evasive. Always running off to somewhere. It had been like this in all of his interactions with her. He wondered if it would ever change.

“I have a few responsibilities at the moment, but I’ll see what I can do about getting back to you in a reasonable amount of time.” He stated as he watched her pull her tunic on.

“Had you anything in mind as to when you wanted the training to begin?” He asked this as he stood with her – not to leave, but out of gentleman’s courtesy. When a lady stood, so too, did the gentleman.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She adjusted her cloak as they stood, and smiled slightly. "Within the next month, if at all possible. Giran is eager to learn."

De'Ville nodded in good-bye to Kovalev. "Fare well, Sasha, and good skies until we meet again." Then she walked to the front of the restaurant and left the tavern. Her half eaten sandwich lay on her plate in front of the credit chit that was worth more than double the price of lunch.

[SashaKovalev]

He nodded and when she’d left, he sat back down again. He didn’t reach to touch his food just yet, but rather, he grabbed his pint glass of ale and leaned back in his seat, a thoughtful expression on his face.

This had been an interesting conversation to say the least.

It had been quite some time since he had been the teacher. And perhaps, a part of him was truly missing that aspect of his life.

He had been a student again since he had left the order. A student to Wargrave. To Taylor Millard. And at the University.

He took a good slug of his ale, the bitter finish of it awakening taste buds. Or perhaps, it was just that something else within him had come alive again. A challenge of sorts. Something of interest to him.

He would speak to his uncle, certainly. But there was no doubt that his curiosity would also lead him to the coordinates on the card that he now tucked into his pockets.