Time, the ever-elusive and relative beastie that it was, ticked on. That is to say, it ticked on for the Verpine and his precious cargo in a manner perhaps different than it did for others, than it did for those he had left behind on the jungled moon of Endor, for those in great superstar destroyers -- or at least those left to them -- who yet encircled one world or another with their great blockades, or for those ensconced in a particular SSD who pondered the myriad possible fates the galaxy would meet, depending upon which road along Time's path it would finally travel.

This wonderful variance in the space-time continuum was of course known to the insectoid pilot of the little TIE fighter, which howled between the seconds of it in order that the half-conscious Daughter of the Sith be safely carried to a place where she might heal from her wounds.

From her physical wounds, that is; the Verpine could not help but shake his head, clacking his mandibles in a concerned manner as he wondered in what state her mind might be. That all was not right with the Galaxy was something quite obvious to him, and more than likely to her as well: whatever it was that had sent her sans her wonderful powers to the tiny forested moon was something he didn't want to contemplate too deeply at the moment. But more than likely, being something to rip the All from her, it would have been something which could affect her heart, her mind, even her very soul...

Time and thoughts carried him at length to Bespin, where the little TIE was met and, at first much to the dismay of the Verpine, escorted to Tibannopolis. En route to his landing coordinates, however, that dismay lessened, gradually vanishing as a memory of a name once spoken to him came to mind. He would have smiled if he could as he brought the tiny ship in for a landing, there to debark, and after exchanging a few words and a few more coins to the growly-looking Klatooine who met him was finally approached by a towering Besalisk going by the name of Driffane. That hulking being nearly cracked his carapace with the strength of his four-armed hug (meant more than likely as a weapons search); after pulling back to exchange more seeming pleasantries the gentle-being was led to the TIE fighter.

"Inside, needing assistance is She," K'kihl clattered, giving emphasis to the pronoun by both clattering his mandibles and nodding his head emphatically.

"Of awareness to Boss Sorben, this one is."

Even if he possessed eyelids he wouldn't have blinked one iota at his slight fabrication; let Driffane think that Tarnus was the one to have ordered her here for safety. The lack of any outright cruelties being imposed on this gas-world spoke worlds of how those currently in power were behaving toward it; chances were good that Graysith would be accepted without any messy inquiry wanting him to prove this or that.

The name of Sorben Tarnus would be enough, both as an old acquaintance of Driffane's from the man's bounty hunter days, and as his new position in the New Empire.

The Verpine, as usual, was right.

"Of course we'll watch over her!" Driffane's raspy voice boomed across the landing pier. "Not a problem, not a problem at all!"

With that he motioned to his ever-present Klatoonian side-guard, who hulked up with a nod and whisked the Chosen One into his muscular arms.

"Take her to the embassorial suites of the Blue Asteroid," Driffane ordered before turning back to the Verpine.

"Care for some lunch?" he asked as even more of his underlings materialized from the shadows, various appendages upon an even greater variety of weaponry as they joined their fellows in keeping a watchful eye on the little TIE.

K'kihl new a quiet ultimatum when he saw it. Nodding with a clack of mandibles, he was led off into the maze of yet another gas-mining city...

While the unconscious form of Jharmeen Jhin'Dar Q'taro was carried off into yet another.

[ 06-08-2009 02:09 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by K'kihl ]

--------------------

"K'khil, this is Shawn Petrolu. Just checking in to see how things are progressing there on Endor since we've not heard from you in some time. No news to report here either; all is about the same. Please respond ASAP. Petrolu out."

After completing this brief message, Shawn sent it off along the specified channel to the TIE K'khil had been using...

...and waited.

--------------------

"All right, youse louses!" His raspy voice grumbled over the other beings, who likewise were releasing their own weaponry to grab onto various and sundry tools.

"You guys oughtta know by now how da Boss likes it! Plant the homers and plant 'em good, ya hear me ya lazy scumbags?"

A generalized vocalization was his only reply as a few of the alien beings hastened to the task, planting not one but three nondescript homing devices where they hoped they would not be discovered. The others turned to the job boss.

"And as for youse, you guys get inta dat ship and set the mole! Da Boss ain't likin' it so well dat strangers just happen to be poppin' up here askin' about 'im; what dis Verpine is really doing here ain't gonna be a secret much longer!"

He threw back his head and howled at his own joke, a rumble of mirth obediently followed by the workmen. Then a couple of them headed to the main hatch of the TIE, and one of them scrambled aboard, calling out over his shoulder to the other to hand him what tools he needed.

Suddenly he popped back out again.

"Hey boss, da comm system is out!" he hollered over to the job boss. That worthy merely cast a scathing look back upon him.

"Well, re-engage it, ya louse!" he hollered back. "Ya can't integrate a comm-mole if'n da system ain't workin'!"

"But boss, it's got parts all missin n' ever'ting!" the other lamented as, cuffing his partner upside the head he headed past him to face the underling boss. "How'm I supposed ta fix it, if'n I don't got all I need?"

The job boss scowled ferociously and planted his ugly mug smack up against that of the whiner.

"Den I'd be gettin whatcha need, and pronto!" he roared. "Da Boss ain't gonna like it if'n dat mole ain't installed, and we ain't got all day to get to it!"

It was a major effort for the worker to keep from hauling off and belting his job boss, but he managed it and pulled away from him. Opening up a link on his own comm, he contacted one of the myriad junkyard Ughnaughts who seemed to inhabit every floating city Bespin possessed.

"Hey, I'm needin' some stuff, and you'd better get it here like yesterday!" Those words were followed by a lengthy list of components, to which the Ughnaught grunted in affirmation before breaking contact. The worker turned back to his boss with a snarl.

"It's comin', it's comin'!" he grumbled as he hauled out a deathstick to puff upon while they waited.

"It better not take forever, ya dirt-for-brains!" The job boss shook his head and fluffed out his facial fur, making himself look even more ferocious.

"And ya'd better be quick as a womprat doin' this; ya gotta dis-assemble the unit back to how it was, remember!"

The other merely ignored him, and continued to puff away.

[ 06-11-2009 12:56 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by K'kihl ]

--------------------

"Get on it, ya imbicile!" he screamed, angered that this had to happen because it cost him money. Not that he wouldn't get it back from Driffane, in one way or another, but it had to happen. The job boss didn't like being taken by anyone or anything, least of all those scruffy Ughnaughts.

The worker casually ground out his deathstick and took the anti-grav unit in hand.

"Yeah, yeah," he grumbled as he returned to the TIE, there to take his own turn yelling at his associate who had nothing better to do while waiting than to simply laze about. That low-life snapped (somewhat) to attention and began ruffling his fingers through the heap of electronic components littered across the floating unit.

"Ready!" he finally announced, materials in paws.

The other merely growled something obscene and re-entered the TIE. From there he began a litany of desires, objects which the other duly handed forth. It really didn't take too great a time for the communications panel to be back to specs again; Driffane's men might be a part of the general scum and villany of the universe, but they were good at their jobs, and performed them with alacrity.

Moments later the worker popped out of the TIE again.

"Hey boss!" he hollered, not coming up to the job boss this time but merely remaining by the TIE, appendages a-wave.

"C'mere n' get an earful!"

The job boss frowned more ferociously yet, and stomped over to the little craft.

"Wha'? It better be worth my time!" he shouted before climbing aboard.

Silence ensued, silence broken only by the soft sussuration of a received signal, looping over and over.

He backed out quickly.

"Get a copy of dat, n' see if ya can find where it's comin' from. It sounds fishy ta me, all secretive n' da like; I better clue da Boss in on dis!"

With that he raised his own comm-link to his lips and sent a call out to Driffane on his private, scrambled frequency, while the other being went to work on what he had just been told to do.

[ 06-11-2009 01:22 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by K'kihl ]

--------------------

"Umm, 'scuse me," he said politely enough before departing from the undoubtedly confused Verpine to go stake a claim in the male-being's room. The comm chirped an worbled, scarcely able to be heard. When it had quieted, he raised it to his lips, actually brushed them lightly against the surface.

"You got that copied?" he asked, barely above a whisper.

Squeech. Wurbble. Bleep.

"Yeah, ok. You got it traced n' all?"

Woofle. Blingo. Whine.

His eyes popped open wide at what he heard.

The Outer Rim! And not just any ol' place in the outer rim; Dantooine was out there, after all. But this message came from that wild and unhabited sector, that place of mystery and myth, of ancient, frightening tales snaking along the spacelanes, some such tales being fairly recent.

Such as rumors that something, something BIG had happened to the Impys out there...

He blinked, cast a furtive glance about himself, then raised the comm to his lips again. This was big, really big, big enough that he probably should be passing it along to his own boss, wherever in the galaxy she might be at the moment.

He fidgeted, then smiled as inspiration struck. If anyone in the whole universe could find her, he knew exactly who that someone was.

The comm squawked for instructions, breaking his momentary glee.

"Ummm, make sure you got good copies of that message. Then delete--"

He paused a moment, dithering. If the Verpine should ever re-engage the comm system himself, how could he be certain he wouldn't find a ghost's trail of message deletion? He knew Verpines were damned good at what they did; he didn't want to take any chances.

"Leave it alone; just dismantle the unit exactly as it was. Good job; there's half-day's credit and a full day off for the lot of ya!"

With that he closed the connection, only to open another. A quick call was sent out over the spaceways to yet another private frequency known to him and a few select others.

"Don't answer me back. Just get to Tibannopolis asap!" he finished before closing the connection and returning to the table.

"Nerf?" he asked politely as he took a seat across from K'kihl, who only stared at him with his black and multi-faceted eyes.

--------------------

Time had passed quite uneventfully for the little Bothan, time which she had managed to put to fairly good use. Her newly upgraded ship was more than a dream to handle -- faster than she ever thought the ol' girl could be! -- if something of a nightmare to keep out of the hands of the various and sundry pirates whose paths she had crossed as she tootled about, simply enjoying life, going from system to system, looking for odd-jobs to pay for her ever beloved "blue stuff" to which she had become nearly addicted.

Then a peculiar chime interrupted her easy-going -- if boring -- existence, with a promise that life was certainly going to become a LOT more interesting.

Find where Mitra had dug herself a hole, and pass an encoded message to her? Then report back to Driffane, all for 800 thousand credits?

Piece of cake.

"A piece of cake, Sir," she replied politely before signing off and returning to her well-frequented barstool.

No more blue stuff; time to get back to doing what she did best!

"Thanks, Al," she called out to the bartender as she tossed him a handful of coins and left the establishment. She liked Bespin, Cloud City was so peaceful, almost surreal, floating in the sky the way it did. While she was thankful for the unexpected windfall, she hoped this job would be exactly as she promised Driffane: a piece of cake.

Surprisingly enough, she was getting to like life in the slow lane...

But now. It was time to speed things up.

Heading to the pad where Heaven's Forbiddance was berthed, she climbed aboard and requested a departure vector. Moments later she was airborne, heading out through the upper atmosphere, throught the ionosphere with it's accompanying crackling interference, and then on into the first wisps of space beyond.

There she put in a heading to Sullust, and soon afterward disappeared in the star-stretched lines of hyperspace.

((OOC: Follow Minna into Dark Destiny in the "CSWU" forums, thank you.))

[ 06-11-2009 02:17 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Minna Manth ]

--------------------

The man leaned in, apologetic look on his face.

"Excuse me," he said. "We have an emergency page from the healing center. Is one of you named Kik-kill?"

--------------------

He paused, manipulatory appendage outstretched, and looked up to fix a green-skinned individual with his multi-faceted eyes.

"K'kihl?" he queried, cocking his head a bit to one side.

"Found him you have; it is I."

--------------------

"Oh that's great news," he said. "I'm a page from central office of Sector 3. The healing center in our sector has been trying to find you for the last standard hour. There's a emergency situation for a patient registered with your name as the contact."

The man cast an unsteady look at K'kihl's company, then smiled back to the Verpine.

"If you'd follow me, please, I can take you there."

--------------------

"Is there?" he queried in reply, carefully setting down the utensil upon which was affixed another bit of overly-roasted nerf. His head tilted a bit to the side as he cast the Verpine equivalent of a sidelong glance toward Driffane, who was chomping heartily away on the other side of the table, seemingly oblivious to what was happening mere feet from his very nose.

K'kihl was not stupid, nor was he deaf. He had, after all, been standing smack dab next to the hulking Besalisk when that worthy had ordered his lackey to carry his charge to the embassadorial suites of the Blue Asteroid. But where that place was, exactly, K'kihl really didn't know.

What he did realize was the fact that the term "ambassadorial suite" in no way equated to "healing center." Unless, of course, it was code utilized by Driffane, although why he would have deemed it necessary to use said code utterly escaped the logical thinking processes of the insectoid.

Then another thought struck him.

Perhaps the Lady had been transferred to the healing center after having first been placed in the suites? There was a way to verify the words this stranger was saying.

"To a healing center, this patient was taken? From where?" he asked politely, conveying a sense of concern and restrained urgency as best he could.

"And... my name it was, as contact for this patient... who is?" he finished, cocking his head a bit and falling silent with a final clack of his mandibles.

--------------------

Another glance around the table and the man leaned in closer. "They paid in advance, sir, and specified that the patient should be placed into the care of 'the dark lady', listing you as a contact. I know no more, except that the patient is rather -- unusual."

The silent look from the Verpine led the man to sign and lean closer still.

"He is of a race we know nothing about, sir. Humanoid, but red-skinned and -- well, he has horns."

--------------------

It is-- it is... material. A drowsy portion of her mind shook itself enough to become aware of at least this little thing. It awoke further, sending a demand to investigate. Her fingers responded sluggishly but curled further, grasping the coolness and playing with it a bit.

It is material, the drowsy portion of her awareness confirmed as another wash of lucidity rose up within her. It suddenly occurred to her that she was in a horizontal position; from somewhere nearby came soft, steady ticks and whooshes, as if something mechanical was... was...

She hadn't any idea at all what those sounds meant; this of course required further investigation. At the insistent prompts coming from her brain, she dragged her eyes open, slid them to the side, and found the source of the soft noise. It was indeed some kind of machine; a thin line snaked from it, coursed its way across the gap to the bed--

I am laying upon a bed.

--and disappeared beneath the coverings that encompassed her slim form. Lucidity strengthened with an attack of questions; groaning, she found the strength to sit up and did so, letting the sheets fall down to her lap. Blinking, she raised a hand to her forehead--

The line, it is adhered to my hand...

--and took a look about herself.

That she was not in a medical center as first supposed was evident by the richness of the decor surrounding her. Thick carpeting padded the floor, well-crafted art adorned the walls. The bed upon which she was laid was made of richly glowing greelwood, covered with silks and satins. A warm-looking furry coverlet lay folded upon a nearby chair; nearby a simple but elegant glass table sported a silver tankard and glass.

She blinked with confusion, trying to make sense of it all.

What had happened? It seemed she had the strangest dream, a dream filled with strange horned people, red of skin, fanged and clawed. And she... she was of some importance to them, they who were- were-- Sith--?

But that was silly. Sith were not demonic in appearance, although they had certainly proved themselves to be in character. Something must have happened to her when-- when--

Oh yes, when she went into the cave, following Father. That was it, that was why she had such a silly dream: they were investigating the Sith; Father was so adamant about proving his speculations to be truth. But everyone knew that just wasn't so.

Silly indeed. Of what possible interest would she, a human female, be to a race of powerful beings? Wait-- something else, there was something else...

Else. Else... ness. Something about that word, it linked up with something else, something different, something that affected everybody in the universe, everything, all that ever was...

All.

She blinked again, removed her hand from her forehead and studied it as if the answers she was seeking were implanted upon her skin. Waved it about, feeling silly. When nothing happened, downright embarrassment reddened her wan cheeks, pushing her back against her pillows once more.

Silly--

She sighed then and closed her eyes. Soon, she was certain, Father or maybe Galen would come in and explain to her what had happened to place her in this situation. But in the meantime, she would get a little more rest.

Muzziness descended upon feathered wings, once again scooping her up and taking her into the realm of darkness.

And of dreams.

[ 02-08-2010 10:31 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

--------------------

They stopped before her, multi-colored eyes staring at her with unspeakable meaning, unguessable intent.

Four beings. All strangers to her, yet she somehow knew them:

Lords Roan, Aelvedaar, Q'utaro... and Darth Wicked.

Once coming to a halt, they moved no more. They spoke no word... other than what their eyes were telling her. A wealth of memories and feelings and recognition burst upon her then, carried by the look in their eyes, and she actually staggered a brief step back before the onslaught. But even as she staggered, she knew precisely what was meant here, and what was being offered.

For it is for this that the motes within the universe scrabble. This, or--

She got a grip upon herself, straightened, and shot a meaningful look back into each pair of glowing eyes, lingeringly, one at a time. Paused while the universe revolved about its axis, considering.

Some would find succor in the mere offering... while others would reach for the stars, to put themselves against those flaring entities, screaming I am here! I am! I shall be! into their uncaring, nuclear faces. Some would be replete with the crumbs of miniscule contentment offered to one... others...

Not.

Her eyes darkened then as resolve thunked into her chest, spreading outward there from a tight little knot of growing darkness. Deep within her breast, the Beast raised its head in growing question and delight, moving aside a paw which had for so long hoarded a secreted little kernel... only to discover the kernel simply wasn't there. Instead a great fluttering of dustlike motes rushed upward, briefly dazzling and delightful to the eye, before they fizzled into obscurity somewhere within her psyche.

The Beast leaped to its feet, tossed back its head, and yowled in reply to the small, and effectively squelched, challenge.

Graysith smiled slowly.

"Not love," she uttered each word as though it carried the entire weight of planetary evolution upon its back. Perhaps it did. And it simply wasn't enough.

"I will take no profferred crumbs!"

With that she moved forward, rounding the foursome who merely stood there, turning as she did but not so quickly that she couldn't circle completely around them once. While the eyes with which each had looked upon her were lightened with the love each held for her... behind their backs each held a variety of weapons in his hands.

Her eyes slit more, a sneer curled her lips.

"Indeed...." she agreed then.

Then with a motion as quick as the explosion of tauri winds from a birthing star, she lashed out with her Claw.

The foursome dissolved into fluttering motes... to disperse within the darkness...

Jharmeen Jhin'dar -- and at the moment unbeknownst to her Q'utaro -- moaned, tossing upon the bed, sending the now sweat-slicked covers into a rumple before they were finally tossed off altogether. They landed on the floor in a sodden heap.

She didn't know. She didn't care. She was too lost in the dream...

...a dream that, being more than simply a dream, began to reach out to her, to pull insistently, to demand her attention, crying out to her faltering memory.

She moaned again, turned to her side, and curled up in a fetal position, hot beads of moisture wetting the pillow beneath her head.

--------------------

That in itself was something rather remarkable, considering who and what he was. For the Verpines were known to be not only one of the most logical races in the galaxy, they were also one of the most anal-retentive.

Even the tiniest discrepency concerning something known to them as being factual was enough to send them flying into analytical mode, inquisitive minds awhirl. Thus it was that K'kihl's initial reaction to all this was an initial raising of internal warning flags, followed instantly by an overwhelming sense of distrust.

But... there was something about the fact that this greenie was speaking of beings who more than likely were of the race of the Sith. And who but a very select few actually knew of their existance? Other than those who occupied this elite circle, beings he knew by name and by companionship, there was only one little loophole that could have led to others knowing of the Sith.

Aboard Hornett, another of this race had briefly arrived. Or so he had heard. Boss Sorben had known of them, of course, but he most certainly would keep his mouth shut. That was his modus operandi, after all.

Unless, of course, somehow Lord Aelvedaar had been lifted from the little moon, and had directed those who had located him to follow along to Bespin. Yet, that didn't ring quite true, either.

And so he dithered, unsure as what to do next. If it had been his place to do so he would have suggested a medical team to go with this green-skinned stranger, to see to the well-being of the purported Sith victim, a victim of who or what he suddenly realized he hadn't an inkling of an idea.

He dithered further, then decided to go with a delaying tactic.

"This patient, sick is he? Or injured?"

He cocked his head, keeping his body completely still so as not to send out any body language signals denoting the depth of his discomfiture and uncertainty, striving instead to ooze an aura of curiosity blended with concern.

[ 03-04-2010 01:52 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by K'kihl ]

--------------------

The man paused, chewing his upper lip.

“Sir,” he continued. “We do need a signature. If you would please follow?”

--------------------

K'kihl would have blinked if he could, so much did he yearn to outright ask the being a few pointed questions. But who knew where that might lead; he also couldn't help but feel that the general modus opperandi of Driffane was to feign ignorance... and glean every last lick of information that he could in that seemingly blissful vapidity.

Long do I dawdle, to gain more information myself do I attempt in this, he thought to himself. Much to this Beskalisk, now is being shown.

Not good.

He made a choice, one based on what to him appeared to be the lesser of two evils. At least in leaving with the green-skinned stranger he would be freed of the constant presence of Driffane. At least he hoped.

Turning to that worthy, he shrugged a chitinous shoulder toward the green skinned being.

"Of need is this one, in me with him going," he said simply, waving a clawed manipulatory appendage in the messenger's direction.

"Information as to where placed the Lady is, I am needing..."

Even though he strove to keep the tonal qualities of his voice as neutral as possible, he knew the question inherent in his latter statement was ringing out as clearly as the convection currents of a star.

Trying to maintain his neutral facade, he half rose from his seat, half expecting Driffane to shoot him where he stood, while his shoulder closest to the greeny fairly burned with the look he knew that being was inflicting upon it.

--------------------

"Ah, g'wan wit' ya," he slobbered around a mouthful of nerf. "Yer lady friend is in the ambassadorial wing of the Blue Asteroid, Section 34J, level 6."

He paused a moment to wipe a greasy hand against his shirtfront. Then after a bit of fumbling in his vest pocket, he drew out a small comm unit. He tossed it diffidently at the Verpine, who caught it with one claw.

"Here ya go. Ya c'n contact me if'n ya get yerself lost or anyt'ing."

Then he pulled his attention completely away from the pair and focused on his meal once more. Little did the Verpine know, but the comm unit was also an individual tracking device, one with a permanently opened transmit channel. Any conversation that transpired between the insectoid and the greenie would be automatically picked up by his henchmen, who then would be able to report whatever would transpire between the two of them.

He smiled smugly, and raised a brow.

"I said ya c'n shove off now," he said rather pointedly before taking another large mouthful of food. But his eyes never removed themselves from the other two at the table.

--------------------

One down, there is...

"Many thanks, to you I give," he said politely as he finished rising. Coming fully upright, he dabbed a napkin delicately against his mandibles before turning to the greenie.

"Go now do we, to this unusual patient see," he said, giving his head a small nod while he carefully attached the comm unit to the inside of a pocket on his utility belt. Closing the flap to further protect it, he waited for further directions from the messenger.

--------------------

That which some have come to think of as Which Was reared its wonderful one-ness back into the omnipotent non-ness of what it was/wasn't; cradled its quite unique non-ness into the accepting arms of the all-encompassing one-ness and let go a little, virtual smile. It took a look about its non-self, taking in the grandeur of ALL there was, the ALL of which some little portions of it were now being allowed to awaken to the fact that their gradually progressing perceptions of it were on the right track.

There was a time Man thought HE was the center of it all. In response to that silliness time was given; Man then thought his little celestial body was. Then his little stellar; oh, such wonderful beings those stellars. Perhaps one day their language would finally be deciphered by the other pieces at play.

He/she/it shook a figurative head, smiled more smugly at the Progression Of Things, which albeit slow was at least on an accurate track.

One day those little motes awoke to the fact that there was more, oh indeed quite more; their tunneled little view expanded its paradigms and took a leap of faith.

Stellars existed, vast quantities of them in wonderful pin-wheeling units. At first only each individual one was recognized by the motes inhabiting it, but slowly, bit by bit, in a manner yet evolving, each little bit grew cognizant of the fact that there were more, there were hundreds, millions, billions of those units, each in turn encompassing billions of stellar brothers.

That the stellars were the true Life of the Universe was not yet understood by the little motes dwelling in the All-ness; it was enough that they now looked out toward a universe with tiny eyes that were gradually opening in recognition of the fact that perhaps the better term was in fact Universes...

"Hey, unfair move! That's partiality!" The cry from him/her/itself came from behind him/her/itself.

That-Which-Was took up some stuff of what is, coalesed it into the brilliant ultraviolet-and-chrome Eyes of which he/she/it had become quite fond, and cast them behind his/her/itself.

A figurative sigh was heaved.

"We hoped we wouldn't have noticed..." it non-said, then muttered in further rejoinder, "But a fair move had been made."

Nothing back but a snort; he/she/it sighed, and then waved a figurative hand.

The fabric of Stuff which wove together existence of both forms, be it living or non, rippled, gathered into an immensely tiny little bunch, and exploded outward in the virtual equivalent of a Big Bang.

Here and there certain motes began waking up, some in surprise, some with regret, but one by one those certain few began to wake up as if from a deep slumber.

The Other still wasn't satisfied. "We're not just giving it away!" it protested, the non-words loud and born in total effrontery.

That-Which-Was merely snorted.

"Of course not. Balance must be maintained; it must always be maintained. We know that, and some of us still know it at different degrees, at different levels than others.

"We'll see now..."

The Other muttered beneath its non-breath. "We still think you're making up the Rules as you go along! But we'll wait.

"Now let us think..."

--------------------

Where was she?

Memory returned with the force of an explosion, sending the Glyph on her brow into brilliant and exultant life. If anyone passing outside beneath her window had looked up, they would have seen a blast of vibrant energy lashing out into the atmosphere of Bespin. But as luck would have it, the Blue Asteroid, being rather posh, was situated in the "outskirts" of Tibannopolis, backed by a low wall over which nothing could be seen beyond the ever-present clouds that enveloped the planet below.

The sudden flash flared out, only to dissipate among the gas molecules in the air, and vanish.

She took a deep breath, swung her legs around; winced as the movement brought sudden pain along her back, bringing in turn sympathetic pains which erupted from other parts of her battered body. She cast a look down at her hands, then quickly forced herself out of bed and over to a nearby mirror where she took a careful stock of her naked body.

So much injury--!

No matter; once learned, even though she was yet learning, that bit of the All which she had in fact mastered came to her aid in a response as natural as breathing. Her laboring lungs quieted as bones knit, muscles loosened their spasms, torn nails began to heal. The tiny particles of carbon and silicon and oxygen that she siphoned from her surroundings didn't even notice the loss as with those particles she instinctively finished the healing of her body.

Completing the act, she turned from the mirror with a smile. Now to--

She paused a moment, confusion settling down around her in a fuzzy cloud.

To... what?

Memory remained obstinate, unwilling to provide an answer of any sort. Although she had mended her physical body, there was more to being back to normal than repaired body parts.

She nodded at herself, recognizing the wisdom in further rest, to let her mind heal from exhaustive injury it had sustained by whatever it was that had caused her to lose contact with The All.

A short nap, that is all I need, she told herself as she returned to the bed, her eyes drooping, her body drifting off into restful slumber even before she had the chance to pull up the sheets.

[ 06-14-2010 02:17 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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Shayla.

"Shayla..."

Instinctively, she let the call leach out into the the beyond, into the Great Expanse of Out There, seeking the familiarity of the one whom she had come to love more than a sister.

More than her own sister...

Why this was suddenly of such importance to her, was something she could not begin to fathom. Whether it was something of meaning to her own heart and soul, or something else; all she knew was that there was a great and sudden Void needing to be filled, and that nothing would fill it as would the young human she had long ago taken under her wing.

Why had she done this?

The thought suddenly struck her, reaching down deep inside her in the attempt to wring her inside out. She clenched her teeth unconsciously, battling against it.
She needed to be taught.

The excuse filled her being, mocking her. She bowed her head in the darkness, suddenly feeling bereft, knowing that there was more, that there had been a reason why she had taken the young jedi padawan under her wing, only to change her world view so suddenly, so radically.

Yes. There was a reason. But... what?

Suddenly she found herself on her feet, the soft blanket and sheets flung aside like spindrift, her hand clenching beside her slim body which suddenly began shaking as though with the ague.

Shayla! Palomir!!

She crumpled to the floor of the posh suites in which she had been detained, her focus upon anything but the richness of her surroundings.

What is wrong with me? she couldn't help but wonder, sudden tears in her eyes.

Why does not anyone answer my call?

Feeling alone, she crumpled further into herself, and became but a small shadow in the greater shadow of the night.

Emptiness abounded...

Why indeed.

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She quieted then, her eyes remaining vague and distant...

...and out of the darkness a voice, one so longed for that she didn't even know it, rang out in the very fabric of Shayla's being. And it was so very, very real...

And full of heart-ache that matched Shayla's own.

Shayla knew it had been there all along. But she hadn't truly felt it until now.

The voice, and the connection...they were real.

Without even thinking, Shayla responded to it.

Jharmeen...I am here...

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Jharmeen! My love, I hear you! Where are you? I miss you so!

Phalomir hoped he had sent his thoughts through. He knew Jharmeen had created a link with him, using the connection with all things to find him anywhere. He did not know exactly how she had accomplished this but at the moment he cared little for mechanics of it all. She was alive, and her powers must have returned. That itself should mean that she could heal herself, and she must be well.

Phalomir spoke words to ShaRhylla, but they came from his head and not his heart. That particular space was tied up with the link that connected him with Jharmeen. It had more to say, more to send, and it spoke freely through the link.

Jharmeen... I will return to you. My dear, dear love...

[ 07-19-2010 03:16 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Phalomir ]

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Shayla! Phalomir! Oh, my Sister, and my love...!

The rejoining words shot back unthinkingly as she took a moment to clamber to her feet. Once steadily upon then, she cast a glance about herself. It was as if up until this very moment she had been living in a fog, a miasma of one-ness, of alone-ness, of being separate from ALL and everyone and everything within it, and now with the return of her abilites she was suddenly reconnected. The jolt was lightning fast, painfully sweet...

And utterly, utterly welcome.

She paused, sensing along the link, and found to her dismay that a bifurcation existed.

They are not together, wherever they are, she thought to herself. Pursing her lips, she paused further, debating as to what it was she should do.

First of all, shadowy memories reminded her that K'kihl was quite probably somewhere about; at least she thought that was the case. Someone had taken her to this place, she thought it was him. But to be truthful, she couldn't be certain; that shady memory was umbrellaed by pain-ridden confusion and half-consciousness. At any rate, she had never created a link with the Verpine; thus she was unable to open one now. While she wanted nothing more than to open a rift in the fabric of time and space and step through to join those she loved, she didn't know if by doing so she would be putting the insectoid in any sort of risk, if indeed he was around at all to face anything. If nothing else, if he was here and returned to find her gone, wouldn't he be worried? Perhaps she should attempt to discover his whereabouts...

But then, what if he wasn't here? To whom then should she go? Every cell in her body ached to return to Phalomir, but there was Shayla's dear, sweet voice too, so much as it was so very, very long ago, a musical utterance in tones not felt for far too long a time. What had happened between them, to them? Her brow wrinkled a moment as she pondered; then she hmmphed and softened her expression.

This I can easily discover later; now the problem is:

Where do I go? It is but by a thought that I can return to either Shayla's side or Phalomir's. But how do I find K'kihl here on...

She cut herself short as another dilemma presented itself: she hadn't any idea where in all the universe she was. All she knew was that it was a very nice room, poshly furnished, and that someone had gone out of their way to make certain she was comfortable and well taken care of.

Undoubtedly to heal...

She cast a quick look upon herself, smirking just a bit when that look revealed her healthy old self again. Not a lick of any injury existed on her person anywhere she could see; a quick running of hands over her face proved it to be as unmarred as the rest of her body. She took a breath, feeling hale, whole, and totally fit.

Just... totally out of the loop about certain, very important things.

So she did the only thing she could. Closing her eyes, she let her head drop forward a bit, and addressed both Phalomir and Shayla as one, reaching out, digging the Link more deeply into their minds and souls, branching out rootlets from the initial tap so as to never let go of them again.

But something about the connection with Shayla made her pause again. There seemed to be a sly little aura niggling somewhere about her; she wasn't sure, of course, but somehow it didn't seem to be coming from her young Adept directly. But from somewhere or something close to her. She opened her thoughts, preparing to inquire about this, then shut them off quickly. Now was the time to gather information; then a course of travel could be mapped out.

Wh-where am I? Where are you? What has happened? Are you all right? she asked of them both, hoping someone would provide her with an answer so she would know in which direction she should proceed, which would be the most correct for the Good of All That Is.

((OOC: Graysith's queries go off to BOTH Phalomir and Shayla, who both luckily happen to be in Sweet Dreams Are Made Of This in the "Jedi/Sith" forums, thank you.))

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