Lux

A steady pool of silver built on the steel plates beneath her. Each new addition scored her face with further traces of lacrimal essence, coloring obsidian with a map of streaks and lines. It was difficult to see the pool through the space between her knees, but dim light illuminated the liquid from the various fissures left in her posture. The pool glinted when his pale visage entered and shuddered as his feet clattered on the durasteel. Grief and darkness held her head low. The mop of matted charcoal didn’t lift to greet him. Morose staccato breaths were all that acknowledged his presence. The Commissioner drew closer still, but something was different. As he neared the heaving mass of limbs, Lux could feel a shift in his energy. He was timid steps; slow gestures, and gentle hands. It was… out of place. Even the warm tips of his fingers, hanging in the air and withholding the rage that sang so vividly before, felt wholly different. The thin skin of his digits drew close enough to disturb the air around her, sending rivulets of scalding sensation through her spine. But he stopped. Was he afraid? Walking down a moonlit road with nothing but the light of stars to find her, demons of the past crowded around, trying to swarm. Specters, ghouls, crazed spirits, and whatever else haunted her mind, sang with familiar tunes, trying to undo her. Their words held power she couldn’t imagine. And yet, his was the worst of all. Among the crowd of wraiths, his eyes were all she could see. The fury came with memory and agony soon followed. His presence begat pain and more sobbing followed. Still, Tenebris sat. Words were all he offered. And, to be fair, they were all he could offer. Each syllable crashed against her; a wave rocking against a crumbling pier. But, what could he do? This was all in her head. These were her demons. This was her fight. And she was sitting curled up on the floor like a frail vulnerable little thing. The Echani, used to fists and protocol, was given a fragile piece glass and asked to tend to it. It was natural to see his misgivings and confusion. And she, although strong in her own way, found herself trying to assemble a puzzle on the floor made up of nothing but corner pieces. Lux could respect his tenacity. He was willing to attempt delicate negotiation which wasn’t something he did on a whim. Recollections from her time on Corellia told her that. But, the fact that he took care to console her, told her everything. The Echani was trying to approach her level and reason with the tumultuous insanity warring inside her brain. Yet, she couldn’t afford to look at him. The contours of his face and the burning fire in his eyes etched themselves in the back of her mind and continued to stare at her with every passing moment. She didn’t want to look at him and confirm her nightmare or give power to her illusions. However, the concessions felt terribly one-sided. A ranking official, in charge of hundreds of thousands, took the time to come to her and make sure she was doing okay. Lux stuck her face in the padded cloth of her tunic and sobbed, refusing to budge. ...and you can forget this ever happened; forget Onderon, forget me… A shard of light pierced through the thick cloud in her mind. The Thyrsian’s heart skipped a beat as she sat and caused her to choke a little. Her expression sharpened, as if in insult, but softened when the genuine remorse of his words kicked in. Finally, not able to hold off anymore, Lux’s eyes met the Echani’s for the first time in almost a day. And, nothing. There was no crash of terror nor bursting of fire. It took her a moment to adjust to the dim light of the room. But when she did, she could see his silver eyes. Gone was the demon that sang with fire. All that remained was the boy who sparred with her two days ago. Youthful vibrancy crashed with a strong will and infallible sense of justice. Before Lux could process the change, her heart stuttered. Another choked sob came and she struggled to breathe for a second or two. Everything was going way too fast. She couldn’t keep up. A mere breath away from his forgiveness and silence was her only answer. Lux opened her mouth to speak, but a void of thought left her with nothing to reply. Instead, she reached out to his discarded left arm and pulled it, nervously rubbing the small black thumb of her right hand in the center of his white palm. For a few moments, she sat, looking deep into his pale eyes; silent opia filling the gaping awkwardness of the moment. When she did speak, she stuttered at first, trying to gather words together before stumbling. Her answer was wrought with hesitation and anxiety, but the Thyrsian mustered her strength. She returned his apology with as much acceptance as she could convey. “I don’t think you can do anything. I spent the whole day being mad at you; terrified of you. I was trying to think of what I would say, trying to think how I would say it, but I couldn’t bring myself to think of anything. You’ve been on my mind more than anything else lately – ever since our sparring match. I didn’t know what it meant to me at the time, but I was buzzing with a weird feeling since then… I uh… “And then. That. I can’t come close to describing what that felt like. But, knowing that someone who I thought I’d grown close to, could hurt me that much? It struck me to the core. It was scarier than Faust. It was scarier than standing toe-to-toe with the Dark Lord and facing death alone. I don’t think I’ve ever experienced anything like it before.” Lux turned away slightly, looking out toward the stars that glowed outside her viewport, then came back to Tenebris before continuing. “But, I don’t think I could ever forget you. And I don’t want to. I was dying in that bank. Day after day I was fighting against archaic ideas of gender discrimination, I was combatting monotony and warring with my own lack of self-worth. But ever since I left that bank and came on this journey with you, I have figured out so much more about myself. I wouldn’t give it up for anything, even with the pain. After all, you know what they say about risks. ‘To know what life is worth, you have to risk it once in awhile.’” A faint smile touched the corner of Lux’s face. “I accept your apology, as much as I am able to. I don’t think these scars will heal quickly, nor do I think they will heal completely. But I am ready to accept that. Thank you, for coming to check up on me. And… I would be more than happy to join your staff if you’d have me; emotional wreck and all.” Lux added, with a slight chuckle at the end.

Everything was a blur. Taut muscles, fervid passion, and seething rage filled the air like thick gelatinous sludge. It threatened to swallow Lux whole and inundate her with chaotic energy. A horde of ragged, ravenous talons clung to the outside of her skull, attempting to pierce the veneer of her scalp with whispers of power; irascible thoughts collided with the strong crystalline defense arrested by the fragile skin of her palm. The square was electric and tumultuous. But, to Lux, everything gleamed with intense lucidity. Her luminous snowy gaze took in the scene as if it were behind a thick sheet of glass. The surreal irony of her emotional detachment played on the tiny hairs of her forehead as the groups split apart. And the awkward silence that fell between them, was the loudest silence she'd ever witnessed. Although conflicted, the Thyrsian took her leave with a benumbed stride and headed straight for The Raisonneur. No words were shed, nor consolation required. Lux walked with purpose toward her chambers, said a small piece to Lorecait and her family, and closed the door behind her. When she was finally settled; when the world around her stopped pounding against the hollow shell that surrounded her, Lux released the crystal from her hand and let it drop to the deck plates with a small clattering sound. It was a simple thing -- the sound of rock hitting bare durasteel. But roaring fires pushed inward, violently chasing the Thyrsian that thrust herself into the raging inferno. “THIS JUST IN, THREE OF CORUSCANT’S BIGGEST SKYSCRAPERS WERE CUT DOWN TODAY!” … the Marie… “I am so glad you came to get me. I thought I was dead.” "I'm...I'm sorry. I'm not trying to take all this out on you. I promise. You're ...the closest person I have to all this in my life right now..." “You spar with spirit and fight well… for a Thyrsian.” "I can feel your fear for your master. Your anger. Your hatred of powerlessness. It makes you stronger, but you deny it." "Run along now and dwell on your failure to protect her, and reflect on what it means to be a Jedi." “..I can set you free. You know nothing of the danger you are in...” Without defense, the Thyrsian embraced her vulnerability. The frigid hand of regret and sorrow tore across her obsidian face and ripped away the facade. Burning lacrimal stars streamed from the corners of her eyes, lit only by dull fluorescence. A miserable dance of memory and woe played on the dearth of joy that fought to regain her heart. The frail ballerina, at the mercy of her danzatore, struggled to regain the vivacity she had only a week prior. The Thyrsain bound herself in her own arms and curled up by the wall, trying to muster the strength to stand.

With the crystal held firmly in her left palm, the spider’s touch felt distant – although, it still took her by surprise. The gentle grasp of his terrible power, suspending her fate inexorably between life and death with the delicate stroke of a trained hand, was cold on her shoulder. A disclaimer; a warning; or a spell, wormed its way into the depths of her mind. And it would linger. But with absolute clarity, Lux could see the extent of his wish as it was offered to her. Like the mynock to its diminutive rodent-like prey, the Dark Lord wished to draw her out and feed on the weakness inside. However, Lux’s fears were locked away for the moment. Her stress was compartmentalized and her passion was diluted. Her brilliant luminescent white eyes looked deep into the Dark Lord’s emerald malice and smiled. It was a simple gesture and one that would mean almost nothing to someone with so much power. But it was the only answer she could find to his offer. “You flatter me. But I’m afraid I must decline.” Lux said, bowing her head. Like a crash of lightning slamming into the great library of Ossus, a claxon echoed in the back of Lux’s brain. Something felt wrong. Even in the state of equilibrium, she found herself in, Lux could sense that the walls were attempting to close in and destroy what peace she’d mustered. The Thyrsian saw the world in every detail she wanted. The complexity of focus was at her fingertips the moment she needed it. So, when Faust pulled the disruptor out, Lux closed the distance between her and the Hunter. She locked her eyes on the offending weapon and grabbed at Faust’s arm, performing an Echani holding technique to stop his strike before it turned a peaceful negotiation into a bloodbath. <>

Another face was there to greet Ailbasi when she arrived. The palatial guards that were positioned outside the throne room, moved into the throne room to secure all of the Royal Family's assets. The Royal Family had been evacuated earlier in the afternoon when the threat of Sith incursion - ala Faust - was threatened and the CoreSec Commissioner requested a lockdown of the palace. After acknowledging the Commissioner's request and passing it to his guardsmen, Jarvok and his family left the palace to his guards. It was a contingency set up since one of the last monarchs was slaughtered by an unruly campaign of Mandalorians that waged war through the streets. The stand-in that was standing near the throne, was a grizzled middle aged man. Corporal Darius Lavok peered at the woman with cold blue eyes. There was no malice there; there was no hate. He simply had no patience left for much of anything. So, he cut right to the chase. This Cathar clearly had reason to be here, but he was sad to say she would not see what she wanted to see. For now, at least. "Apologies Miss Zirtani. The Royal Family evacuated some time ago due to the Faust threat. Darth Luciferian was in this very room not that long ago, so we are just now recovering the area and securing all the Royal Family's effects, to make sure he didn't steal anything. I do not believe that I am allowed such permissions, being in the position I am. But I can forward your questions and concerns to Jarvok if you so wish it." The palatial guardsmen eyed her warily. They wondered what happened to the perimeter guard around the palace, but chose to keep silent about it. They would watch her closely. But unless directly ordered to do so, there would be no bloodshed. Not in his Grace's room. __________________ Lux could feel the tension growing as she approached the growing group of people meeting in the square. And when she finally stood adjacent to them all, she could feel the palpability of it all, swirling around her. The conflicting feelings boiled together like a riotous soup that stank with an acrid foulness. Yet, Lux was extremely calm. The crystal clenched in her left hand helped clarify everything. Her mind was open to looking at everything with ease. And all the while, she broached each mental complexity in the depths of her consciousness with almost titanic indifference. Tenebris seemed to sneer inaudibly at her when she approached, but she didn't see it. She didn't look at him. The fear and pain that lingered there had not been properly dealt with, and now was definitely not the time to investigate that incident further. Any weakness or show for these people would give CoreSec a disadvantage; more than they already had. Instead, Lux stood and watched the altercation. The artistic side of her enjoyed the Operatic tune that Faust casually spoiled with his venomous tongue, but the curious and inquisitive side of her, watched the 'Dark Lord.' Although not fully trained, Lux could still feel a terrible power behind the man. But, unlike Faust, he didn't flaunt it. Even with all of his power, he didn't brandish or posture with it. It was a strange thing to see someone with power stand so close to breaking something, but be big enough to ignore the impulse. There was something eerie about it. But Lux could stand to respect it. The darkness that welled up beyond those green eyes was not something that she would wish upon herself. But the respect that he paid to them by remaining composed in the face of conflict, was admirable. When introduced, Lux bowed her head politely and offered her right hand to the Dark Lord as a token of good will. "Nice to meet you," Lux said, a small but genuine small crossing her features.

Lux clasped the crystal close to her chest and felt a wave of cold roll over her wearied mind. The throes of anxiety struggled to keep her, but the cold weariness of fatigue fought harder. And the peace that flowed through the pads of her fingers was a strong note amidst the torrential symphony of dread and despair that surrounded them all. A thick quagmire of putrescence hung overhead and threatened to swallow the square, clouding the stage with thick obscurity. But the light of Skye’s will, glittered like so many stars in the sky. It was breathtaking. And now that the Thyrsian could see the healer, standing on the stage, without the fetters of life’s cruelty bearing down on them, the Thyrsian could truly understand why Jedi valued the force as much as they did; why it meant so much to them and the galaxy as a whole. A small smile lifted her fragile ebony lips as a familiar shadow crept overhead. That ship… She felt the cold steel of the impromptu deck plating wrestling all the heat from her skin. The little color she had, blew out. And her whole world stopped spinning for a few seconds. Silent as space, and still as death, Lux sat for what seemed like an eternity. The crystal granted focus, Skye granted peace, but the galaxy was still cruel. Bare moments from Skye’s saving grace, Lux was thrust back into the spoiled depths of depravity that consumed a great deal of her childhood. The Marie… What drove anyone to do those terrible things? Lucinda… The motes of dust and debris that floated aimlessly in the bright command center floodlights, separated. Something worked its way through the emptiness and brushed a tear from Lux’s cold cheek. Peace gave it shape, focus gave it clarity, and despair gave it depth. Lux, you must remember… The Galaxy will be cruel. You can do little to stop the cruelty of people from affecting you. But, you can affect you. You can be your own light. You can be a light to others. Ultimately, my strong little girl, you need to push on. This world won’t do you any favors… The Thyrsian coughed for a moment and looked around, fruitlessly trying to find the phantom that just spoke. But when she shook her head, the vision ceased and she saw Skye standing, looking out toward the square. Whatever misgivings she had about the commissioner; whatever anxieties she felt in the pit of her stomach and the fitful beating of her heart; whatever terrible pressure consumed her, Lux clasped anew on the crystal in her hand and stood. She refastened the strap that held her sword in place but did not draw it. “Yes, let’s.” Was all Lux said before she and the Jedi Master proceeded out to the square. The CoreSec agents attempted to stop them, but Skye and Lux pushed until they gained access. No weapons were drawn, no rude words were exchanged. We all got into this mess together, we’ll get out of it together too. Lux and Skye crossed the distance with little difficulty. They didn’t want to start a fight or stir the pot. Tenebris was their ally; simple as that. Foolish as it may have been, Lux was ready to stand by his side and help remedy whatever she could. Lux nodded to the Sith as she approached and nodded to Tenebris as well. She took up a non-aggressive posture on one side of the Echani and Skye did the same on the other. “Evening Commissioner.”

The night was cold and biting. Whispers of winter chill pulled at the fragile Onderonian fibers that clung to Lux’s body. Her charcoal mop of hair blew in the breeze like frail ribbons. The strands of silver that normally sat obscured in her ponytail, were allowed to shoot outward and glisten in the twinkling starlight. The skin of her tear beaten face was matted with half-wet and half-dry tears. Lack of rest and worry marred the corners and creases of her expression. And, as she sat, keeping a watchful eye over the Jedi Master. The deep lines of worry that defined parts of her face, darkened. Her mouth was hard and her eyes portrayed a stony evocation that broached no argument. It wasn’t until Skye’s eyes started to flutter, that a warm smile pierced the hard granite of the Thyrsian’s countenance. Lux’s eyes swelled with water once more. This time, however, joy was the catalyst. Impulsively, Lux embraced the Jedi Master and let out an immense sigh of relief. “Master Skye! You have no idea how glad I am to see that you’re alive.” Lux exclaimed almost breathlessly. Too late the Thyrsian realized how hard she was squeezing the woman and let go of the Jedi after taking a moment to enjoy their minor success. She bowed her head out of respect and found herself suddenly nervous to begin. The strain of events that wove across her recent past impacted the nerves that floated through her brain. Conclusions and impulses fought to maintain control over her mind, but peaceful clarity pierced it all with Skye’s crystal clear presence. Timid hands wrestled with nervous excitement as the warm metal cylinder, held in her right hand, came to her mind. In a shaky and hastened gesture, Lux clumsily offered the cylinder to the master with a quirky half-smile. “Sorry… You-uhh… might want this back. And, uh… Welcome back.” Lux was suddenly at a loss for words and internally griped to herself about the verbal folly.

Lux smiled a little at Tenebris when she entered the Mobile Command Unit. It was a conflicted expression, but most of her mind was focused on other things and could not process multiple traumas at the same time. Not much came to mind when it was time to explain her actions, nor did she feel particularly chipper about the altercation. But, she knew that Skye was alright; for now at least. It wasn't an amazing consolation, but at least it didn't leave a sour taste in her mouth. Tenebris didn't reprimand her though, which helped. When provisional agent Lux made it safely into the sphere of CoreSec influence, she sat with sunken shoulders in a chair off to the side. Her luminous white eyes rested on the metal cylinder atop her lap. Regret and shame hung like dingy clouds over her head and threatened to swallow her whole as she recollected the recent past. But she denied purchase to any malevolence. Even as the weight of emotion started to increase exponentially, elusive puppeteers pushing potent catalysts from the sky, she remained persistent. Externally, she barely moved, save for adjusting the sleeves of her blouse every five seconds. Internally, it was a constant vigil. Tenebris’ sharp finger pierced the veil of her introspection. And when the Thyrsian’s eyes fell to the Jedi master sprawled across the square, her muscles were galvanized to action. Tenebris’ words were barely issued before the fleeting form of Lux shot past him. Barely held mental defenses, hanging off the small hairs on her arms, bolstered at the Jedi Master’s acquisition. She was still unconscious, but it was a trifle. Her life signs were normal and she was in - relatively - good condition. The Thyrsian’s hand tightened around the hilt of the Amethyst blade still in her possession and she nodded when Tenebris’ order finally caught up with her. “I will guard her with my life.”

His laugh was meaningless. She did not want to leave Skye. But, at this point, her sacrifice meant nothing. The Thyrsian wanted to charge in and save the day. But with a huge force bearing down on them and no means to ensure victory, her participation meant nothing. It was a trivial pursuit and wouldn't amount to anything more than a corpse on the marble floor. Or alternatively, if she'd won, that group of 'friends' would have surely seized the planet in recompense for their fallen. And her 'win' would have been a loss in the long run. Saving Skye wouldn't have gotten anywhere and Lux would be regretting her role in the whole catastrophe. So, not seeing a way out of her conflict, Lux dismissed herself from the room. She acknowledged the palace guards as she left and told them that the Hunter still lived. The Thyrsian quickly relayed her recall orders and then sprinted down the hall, lightsaber hilt in hand. Wisdom is hard to see. With the spirits of the catacombs returning to their slumber, Lux's mental hurricane was released. Tears leaked from her eyes with no regard to her flight. Her arms pounded with more emphasis than before. Hallway to hallway she ran like lightning. And when she made it to the main door she knocked, half expecting to get shot by the person on the other side. It was shaping up to be one heck of a day...

In the silence that reigned, precious seconds before the first bout, Tenebris’ baritone voice echoed from Lux’s communications device. //”Lux, this is the Commissioner. If you find him, do not engage. Repeat, do not engage. He brought some friends to this party we weren't prepared for..." "Get out of there and return to the square, now. That's an order."// His words lingered for a moment. The Thyrsian’s eyes, glowing with dangerous light, did not abate their lethal posture. But, she lowered the lightsaber blade to point at the floor, keeping her muscles ready for any outcome. Should the deranged man find opportunity in her maneuver, she would counter with virulent force. However, Tenebris was her superior officer. Although not aligned with CoreSec specifically, she risked a lot when she pursued Faust. The momentum she built still pushed her body to action. Whispers of wrath drew at her hand, and phantoms of power swirled around her. But their attempts were akin to puppeteers with their strings cut, flailing about with little result. Combat was the fire in her soul, but if she tried and lost, it would cost more in the end to those around her. Winning wasn't a surety and it would avail her nothing. Sorry Skye… She bowed lightly - more out of propriety than respect - and backed slowly toward the main door. “It appears I've been summoned.” Lux intoned silently. Her eyes strayed to the Hunter. Would he let her leave?

Fool? Is it a fool to hope for something more than chaos? For the laughs? Who is left to laugh when destruction leaves nothing behind? What kind of monster thinks this way? Silent instruments played a ballad for the man who was void of sanity. Dim light lit the stage. And the dancers took their places, opposite each other. Motes of dust hugged at Faust’s feet as he circled, the influence of his bellicose monologue lingering in the air, attempting to suffocate morality and clarity. But Lux, the presumed enduring optimist, attempting to pierce the cloud, was caught in a web of spiritual design. Wrathful spirits that were against the Hunter and his ilk, rose from the catacombs and filled her with vengeful thoughts. Feelings of pain and anger fought to the fore. Each sensation pounded against the walls of her mind, sending chaotic splinters of emotion cascading down the tenuous barriers she erected to halt Faust’s unconscionable advances. Memories, buried and reserved, were dragged from their rest. Terrible thoughts and evocative moments from the Thyrsian’s past flew before her in an instant. The warm touch of blue skin brushed her lips, exacerbating the delicate latticework that drew across the skin of her cheek. His smile, his turn, his strike… his callused hands rubbed against her fragile windpipe and closed around her neck; pugnacious faces and scornful words congested the space between her eyes and ears. The flash of lifeless eyes stared back at her in hollow misery. Goad. All of it is a goad. Powerful forces rushed toward her, a mirthless tide of passion. And she stood, a rock amidst the water, refusing to fall. The malaise of mental murkiness grew thicker with each passing moment, but Lux persisted. Her mind retained some measure of clarity and listened to Faust as the idea of a peaceful solution became nothing more than a distant memory. Spectral voices validated her mired doubts and helped her spirit run from hope. But, despite it all, hope found her. The glint of Skye’s amethyst saber hilt hit her eyes as the Hunter zeroed in on what he thought was a hapless naive fool. He continued his posturing, establishing his lack of empathy and his ultimatum. And, as his weightless words continued to fall from his contemptible mouth, Lux feigned attention. Her white eyes were glued to the shrouded figure while her thoughts focused on the hilt. Negative thoughts, positive thoughts and everything in between were drawn together in order to direct the hilt to her hand. A torrent of mental energy, channeled from the roaring furnace of spectral fury, built in the crux of her consciousness. But the hilt did not yield. Lux redoubled her efforts, drawing a bead of sweat across her ebony brow. The Thyrsian feared that her mental exertion would show at some point and give her away. The energy that continued to channel through her was a great deal more than she'd dealt with before. But she ignored her fear. Something wasn't working and she needed to focus. Slowly, so as not to break the fragile veil she made to deceive the deceiver, Lux added more memories to the tumult; recent memories of her touching the force for the first time and the stage she found. She pictured that stage in her mind again. Skye, a ballerina in peril, hung over the shoulder of a shadowy danzatore. The bright light of her starry presence was muted, but still endured through unconsciousness. When the image of the stage took hold, icy fingers crawled up her spine, following through the fibers of her arm to the tips of her fingers. An elusive string of sensation extended outward, and when the Thyrsian stretched her hand, she felt a metal cylinder nestled there. It was warm to the touch. The spirits of vengeance cried with righteous fury as the pads of her fingers gripped the ancient weapon. The Thyrsian’s luminous eyes narrowed dangerously. “You wish to fight, Vladimir Faust?” A snap hiss echoed through the chamber. And amethyst light shone brilliantly at the Thyrsian’s feet. The blade and its wielder entered a tight guard stance. “So be it…”

Thunderous drums beat with emphatic fervor as fiery anger built in her heart. A sheaf of moisture glistened on her ebony head, right beneath the wild mess of charcoal that billowed around her as she ran, like a chaotic crown. Footsteps clattered down the hall ahead of her, followed by cries. Pain, anguish, and shock followed behind the madman as he pushed his way, tearing through the palace with ill regard to those that kept it. Lux lent her thoughts to those she passed, but her quarry was what mattered. Yet, small fingers clung to the robes she wore. Palatial guards were running to and fro as the hunter rushed through the halls. And the reality of her situation pulled at her feet, slowing the sound of her boots clapping against the tile. How was she to approach this? And, with regards to Skye, what would happen to the Jedi Master if she were to intervene? Would Faust hand Skye over without resistance? Was he rational? Flashbacks of Tenebris with fire in his eyes did little for her mercurial psyche, but they were enough to provide her with a definitive answer. No. Stopping a short jaunt from the throne room, Lux spotted a few more Guardsman running feverishly around, tending to the wounded and doing what they could to secure the palace as Faust’s influence descended upon them. When it looked like one or two of them were free, she approached them and asked if they could help. They asked what she was doing in the palace and immediately offered to escort her out. But she interjected and told them a small summary of her role in the investigation. Their reaction was rife with incredulity, but Tenebris’ name helped her credibility. The palace guards that were stationed outside were already tapped for Tenebris' perimeter. But, with patience and a little coordination, the guardsmen started to form up around the throne room. They moved to each entryway and exit to block Faust’s advance. In the meantime, Lux sheathed her vibro-sword and walked carefully into the throne room. The guards closed the main door behind her and took up positions on the other side. They would likely not provide much in the way of a buffer if Faust decided to take off. But Lux was optimistic that they would help detain Faust if it got to that point. A lot of her plan was optimistic at this point. But, she was this far, why not risk it? Lux approached, her Onderonian disguise blowing around in the low wind of the throne room. Her glowing white eyes looked up at the figure carrying more than an average man could and stared at him for a good second before responding. “Why are you doing this? What do you have to gain?” Lux said, a touch of passionate zeal in her display. “You have Skye, you have presumably what you came here for, but all of Iziz is dropping down on you. Almost the entire city remembers you and what you’ve done. And, if any of them can, they will do whatever in their power to stop you. So, what is it, that you would risk all of this?” Lux’s hands were out. Her charcoal hair draped across her shoulders. No weapons were exposed, except the vibro sword that was sheathed at her hip, and no aggressive actions were taken. Her expression was only vaguely identifiable, but a single show of emotion glistened atop her cheek, drifting down toward the floor. As she spoke, her eyes kept a degree of attention toward potential traps that would get her should he attempt to catch her off guard. “Why do you destroy and continue to destroy? The force is still here. The people are still here. You are not all you used to be. Why do you do this?"

Oof! The landing was rough, but the battle ready Thyrsian rolled with the energy of her descent and made it to her feet with only minor bruising. The hall was strewn with debris, but no clear sign of her target. Mithwyr was surprisingly obliging to her outlandish request, but Lux didn’t leave room for complaint. Lorecait’s family was safe and after the Zabrak Officer finished reprising the situation, Lux was compelled to act. Was it hard-headed? Yes. Was it foolish? Yes. Was it impulsive? Absolutely. But enough was enough. Tenebris is gonna kill me. He’ll live… The dancer held her sword with a white knuckled right hand. The vibro-blade dipped a few millimeters toward the floor as she finished her roll, but the metal stopped just above the tile with the acrobatic grace of routine and practice. When she rose to her full height, she took off down the hall with renewed heat. Her movement would keep him on edge and would make her harder to hit. In the meantime, she was doing what she could to track him with the ability that Skye taught her. She opened her mind and tried to find the signal that the Jedi Master told her to find. The ‘bright light’ that she was expected to find before -- in the hallway outside Van Isel’s office. Vague stirrings threatened to re-emerge when she remembered that moment, but she fought the emotions that surfaced and channeled that energy into the fire of her rage. Because that was her motivation. Rage. Rage for the fallen and rage for those threatened by darkness; for potential friends cursed with malice; for loved ones killed by phantoms; for those slaughtered without consideration or thought. These were the people she fought for. These were the people that she worked to aid. These were the people that demanded vengeance; justice. Lucinda. Craig. Tenebris. Skye. I won’t lose anyone anymore. I can’t. I won’t. Lux’s eyes opened to the force’s grand performance, illuminating the levels that made up the palace structure in its entirety. Each landing was another stage. Each stage was filled with more actors, and each actor had his or her own glow. It was a little overwhelming to tap the ability after only minimal exploration, but anger brought an icy cold clarity to her search. Within moments, she pinpointed the Jedi Master’s energy and followed it with her mind as it moved through the halls. I’ve got you, you kriffing son of a Hutt. Lux took off down the corridor, her eyes peeled for surprises and traps, and her heart crying for Faust’s head.

All Lux heard was, ‘Buckle up kid,’ before she watched the Raisonneur rise above the edge of the star port’s outer wall and start heading their way. She could hear the thrusters from the Taxi as they violently clashed against Onderon’s atmosphere. Oh no… Tiny little signals started to blare in the back of her head. Klaxons alerted various parts of her body and started to creep outward from her brain and her heart. But, deciding against her immediate anxiety response and stifling the violent bout of nausea that wrestled with her insides, Lux turned to the other passengers and offered her best toothy smile. Sweat broke a little at the top of her forehead, but her tone never wavered. It continued to be an adept reflection of her secretarial professionalism. “Alright, it appears we’re getting out early.” Lux turned to the Taxi driver and asked him to stop. Then she spent the next few seconds gathering up some money and gently encouraging Lorecait’s family to follow her out of the cab and onto the street as the Raisonneur came up with its docking ramp deployed. Mithwyr was on the ramp indicating with broad gestures toward the group. And, with his help, Lux and Mithwyr were able to stevedore Lorecait’s family onto the ship. Lux was the last to board, sweat covering her face in a sheen of anxiety. She turned to wave at the Taxi driver as he flew away and then entered the passenger cabin of the Raisonneur to help Lorecait and her family to secure themselves and get settled. Conflicted feelings of concern and derision bubbled in her stomach. And, although the monster was still fresh on her mind, concern won out. Her expression softened. Gentle touches flicked at the edges of her eyes and her thoughts wandered out to where Tenebris stood toe-to-toe with one of the most dangerous forces in the Galaxy. This does not bode well...

Something is missing… Lorecait’s parent’s secured and a cousin struggling to get out the door, Lux was silently praising her minimal success. However, a niggling sensation stuck to the bottom of her head, at the base of her neck. Dread hung over her like the blade of an executioner ready to swing. Something felt wrong. This was too easy. The hilt of the blade at her hip pulsed with the wary consternation that tugged at her thoughts. And although the others were engaging in sentimental reunions, which offered no end of pain to Lux’s struggling heart, the Thyrsian was twitchy. Her eyes swiveled back and forth as the Taxi took off with orders to head directly to the spaceport. As quietly as she could, she paged Tenebris’ ship the Raisonneur, notifying the remaining officers to be on the lookout for any suspicious activity at the spaceport. Lux wasn’t sure what this Faust character was capable of, but this felt way too easy. When the message was sent and Lorecait's cousin was securely fastened in the taxi, Lux looked them all over, nodded to them each in turn, and then instructed the taxi driver to proceed when he was ready to go. The Thyrsian kept her hands ready and her eyes focused. She couldn't afford to lose any more people. So she would do whatever in her power to make sure everyone stayed safe. Or as safe as she could make them.

The tone of her voice and the pain in her eyes gave Lux everything she needed to see Lorecait's bereaved tale. Weary as she was, she gave information to save her life and the lives of her family. It was not an easy thing to remain silent when the lives of those you cared about were hanging in the balance. Lux was uncomfortably aware of that fact. The Thyrsian needed only a brief moment as she felt the stress of the past few weeks catch up to her before the two of them took off down the hall. Sephrina looked as if she were going to try and offer a verbal rebuttal to the Thyrsian as she and Lorecait marched down the hall, but she was ignored. It wasn't important and there were more important things to be focused on. Quickly, Lux used her data pad and GPS device to track down the addresses of Lorecait’s family. When that was done, she escorted the wayward young woman to a taxi that the Thyrsian summoned moments before as they formulated their rescue plan. “I figured it would be better than trying to run around. Especially if Faust is as mobile as you say. Now, I think this means that your parents are closest, so let’s get them first and we’ll work out toward your cousin who is closer to the ship. Then we’ll all head to the ship and prep for whenever the Commissioner wishes to launch.” A tinge of worry tickled the edge of her expression at the mention of him, but the stress of the moment kept her from fully exploring the feeling that fought to the surface of her mind. Another time... With minor instructions, the taxi driver zoomed off and headed toward their first destination.