Byllurun

While the trip back to Sullust remained uneventful, the same could not be said for the several days after their encounter with Bara’duun. Mariah had rarely been in a situation where she was free to roam a library and learn from texts. Everything that she had taught herself over the past short thirty years had been on a need-to-know basis, and it involved on the spot practicing. Many others who may have been thrown into such a situation would have found themselves in deeper messes than she did, but it spoke volumes to how quickly the woman was able to adapt and to learn. However, now with books sprawled around her, she found her training increasing tenfold -- at least with basic Force-related practice -- although she was still adamant in believing that all of this reading wasn’t worth her while. Nonetheless, she studied like any ‘good student’, thus focusing on this new Force ability that had been detailed under an area known as “Control”. It was a puzzling structure to the self-made woman, but still, she looked past it and continued. The more she learned about it, though, the more she couldn’t help but believe that the only good she could make of it was sneaking back into ecumenopolis slums and out-drinking any who might think they had an upper hand over such a petite creature.

In between Mariah’s delving through texts, she practiced those two spells and even went as far as learning more about the Force ability of Force Cloak that seemed to be held in tandem with the Spell of Concealment. Although her methods were less than pleasant in practicing the healing spell, Mariah found that self-mutilation was the only worthwhile way to truly practice and know that she was progressing.

In what little time she could carve in her busy, student structure, Mariah snuck off to meditate. She hadn’t forgotten Ifrit’s offer, his scheme, and his desire to build it, with her at the forefront. Although the simple thought of it made her restless, it was during these quiet moments that she could cease the yammerings of these idiotic concerns in her head. It had been a long while coming since Mariah had to even deal with something on this scale. She had grown used to what her life had become and the inevitability of the path she walked. This, however, was on a far greater scale than she had ever thought she’d face.

Then came the day. With scrolls and books and datapads scattered around the crimson-haired woman, Ifrit forcibly caught her attention and drew it away from her studies. As much as she didn’t want to be bothered while engrossed in an already taxing situation, he seemed prepared now to finally retouch that which had been briefly discussed already. With a wave of her hand, Mariah summoned the Force to sweep all the texts carefully off the desk to clear the way for her instructor’s datapad.

At the mention of that datachip from all that time ago, Mariah couldn’t hold back the twitch of a malicious grin to touch her lips.

“So that’s what was on it? The beginnings of this little plan in action?” she asked with a dark snicker. “If it was so important for you to keep, you should have said something before I crushed it.”

However, it also spoke volumes to how long Ifrit had been plotting this out -- since long before she had come around demanding to be his student in the arts of Sith Magicks. There wasn’t a doubt in her mind that the disposal of that information set him back, as well as the addition of taking on a new student.

“Circumstances change,” she challenged, her smirk faded ever too quickly with a loud roll of her eyes.

Still, she pressed onwards, flipping through the various schematics, the names, the lists, and she did so all within a silence, at least if Ifrit would allow her that much. The more she looked through it all, though, the more that one of those interesting points in her meditations seemed to resonate with a bit more clarity, that which she could help piece together with him. With a quiet sigh, Mariah kept her eyes trained upon the holograms as she spoke.

“It’ll suffice as a start.”

While it was clear enough to Mariah that Ifrit had put a great deal of thought into this, there was still enough that would need immediate tending to before she would even consider taking part in this scheme. It made her all the more curious, though, what his original plans for breaking free of the Blackguard rule contained. Curious, for the sole reason of, was there anything in that original outline that might have been overlooked or tossed out unnecessarily.

“Tell me more about your first plan, before... 'circumstances' changed.”

She issued the command as she lifted a hand, beckoning one of her own datapads back in front of her. Summoning it to life, she fell into utter silence and continued to go through each piece of information that was put in front of her. However, she was a woman who had often showcased her ability to split her focus and keep something of a critical attention to her surroundings. She could listen to Ifrit, scan through his notes, and make those of her own, seemingly effortlessly.

Mariah hummed her indifference as Ifrit went on to state his reminder to her. At the time, she couldn’t have been bothered to glance through the information of that drive -- or any other bits of information that wouldn’t have benefited her in any way. Looking back on it didn’t change her thoughts or feelings on the matter. Having that knowledge then may have been detrimental for her training as well as pushing Ifrit’s plan forward of ridding the galaxy of his prior master. Still, she believed he was only giving her a half-truth regarding his thoughts on her decision to destroy it so suddenly.

“Your exact phrasing was something a little closer to pushing me to read whatever nonsense was on it instead of destroying it if my memory serves me correctly,” she retorted with more snark in her tone than usual, perhaps from the hours spent in front of holograms and books already.

How heavily Ifrit seemed to want her to read those files back then remained ingrained in her memory. It was the exact reason why she chose to destroy it. His business was his; her business was hers. Only lately had she been haunted by the feeling that that line was blurring and much too rapidly. Still, the consistent drone of her lessons and progression continued, and thus, it kept her here. His words only further served as that reminder. Life was not static, and she sure as hell wasn’t expecting to get thrown onto this particular course. Learning magicks. An artifact missing. A new order breaking away from the Sith. Mariah couldn’t wrap her head around how she hadn’t faked her death and ran back off to Nar Shaddaa for a simpler life -- again.

In her seeming disinterest, Mariah still listened to Ifrit, which was only shown by the notes she began to take as he talked. There was the faintest twitch of a sarcastic smile, though, as he mentioned his prior means to get away from the Sith. Fake his death. In some ways, they were all too different; in others, they were too much alike. Although an easy way out, faking one’s death was simple enough to colorfully carry out in numerous ways. While it worked for her, though, she didn’t have a whole Sith Order that would’ve tried to knock on her doorstep. Not like they would have found her anyway had it been the case. Nonetheless, there were a few points that Ifrit had mentioned, all of which she had jotted down quickly into her own notes before verbalizing them with her instructor.

“You would have vanished across the galaxy and gone where?” she asked, finishing up one final bullet point before lifting up her gaze towards her instructor. Arching an eyebrow at him questioningly, her crimson gaze fell upon Ifrit and locked down on him before she continued, “Securing a new place to house this order would be the ideal solution to a particular problem of yours. Unless, of course, you plan to somehow house it here. It’s not what I would recommend but to each their own.”

Her words cut like glass shards being hurled into him. There was no ‘to each their own’ truly about it in her eyes. It wasn’t something she was going to stand for if she had any real say on the matter. As far as she was aware, Sullust was a Sith-aligned world given to Ifrit to freely use as one of them. The moment they tried to separate themselves from the Sith, they wouldn't exactly be a welcomed party here if Mariah had to make an assumption. The Sith were always about power and domination, no matter how much they tried to hide behind the guise of their 'new' ideals. She found it hard to believe that they would kindly give up a planet for a new and rising order. Politics. Oh, how she abhorred them, which led to the biggest issue she had with this whole scheme, the one stopping her from committing her aid past these planning stages.

“Have you also put any thought in how you’ll satisfy the concerns of the Sith’ari so that he doesn’t try to cut you, and your order down with you, the moment you bring this to light? I may have helped you take out your former master, but if it came down to it, I’d faster take Savage out in his sleep than face him in an honor duel.”

Mariah could have gone in circles with Ifrit when it came to the happenings of that day. The coup, retrieving the drive, and the conversation that happened thereafter in this very room. There had to be one who simply acknowledged that disconnect the two shared and remain silent. In the words of her sister and the Spellweavers before her, the word was mightier than the blade. While Mariah was one who wouldn’t stay her blade, however, she had learned when to keep her sharp tongue back, a hard-learned lesson from her earlier years.

Even if she had a moment to take a jab, however, Ifrit moved forward with the conversation. The secrets she crushed would still be unearthed, if not by her meddling but by his choice. Mariah paused from her diligent note-taking to turn to his holomap of the galactic system. Mariah’s nose wrinkled slightly in distaste as some systems of his original choice appeared with a vibrant hue. Perhaps they would have served Ifrit well enough if he was going into hiding. Mariah had always preferred the bustling cities as the perfect place to hide in plain sight. Then again, she was a human-enough looking creature to blend in well with a simple hooded cloak. Ifrit wasn’t so lucky. Somewhere far out of the reaches of the First Order and the Blackguard would have been his only option.

Again, though, she stayed her tongue to voice that distaste and allowed her instructor to continue without interruption. As he set a different set of planets alight, Mariah’s expression released itself from its otherwise state of perpetual condescending and twisted into something that could only be assumed as intrigue. Narrowing her eyes, she glanced over the list quickly, making note of a few and jotting them in her datapad. A few resonated closer to home for her than others, but for now, she opted to keep the path Ifrit led them on.

An odd Holocron, and one she could access if the time came. She only disrupted her notes briefly to enter the alcove, accept this object’s existence, and return to her seat at the desk, where she could go back to the matters at hand. There was still so much he didn’t know about her, things she had opted to hold back. Just as he had promised not to hold secrets from her, she pledged the same. However, she wasn’t the type to openly divulge information without a question prefixed. Still, she found herself muttering under her breath, just loud enough for him to hear her, as she made a personal note to the Holocron and where it resided.

“Should that come to pass, I should have enough knowledge to have more reliable access to instructors of the arts.”

It was all she would say on the matter, although the real meaning could easily be misconstrued to being introduced to others who practiced the arts over time. It mattered very little, though, as the biggest issue of them all was finally hit with some sense of a solution. However, it was one that she abhorred. With a snarled sigh, Mariah continued with the never-ending note-taking to ensure that she didn’t miss a single piece of pertinent information regarding Ifrit’s new order.

It took her a beat after Ifrit finished this new answer to finish before she was able to snap herself to her feet and turn to face her instructor head-on. Looking at him as though she was about to sentence the very person who led to her own People’s demise, Mariah spoke out against him and this newest plan with an eerie calm yet strong resilience in her tones.

“So the ‘Dark Jedi Order’ is still to remain slaves under the Sith, under that man?” With a disappointed shake of her head, Mariah muttered under her breath, “Laxumque caput conpage soluta oscitat hesternum dissutis undique malis?” before turning her fiery gaze back up at her instructor to demand, “How long, Ifrit? How long will I and the rest of this Order be forced to live out a lie before we finally break free from their idiocy and tyranny? Do you think I allied myself to them without a timeline, without an end goal to reach before disappearing? I wasn’t going to stick around forever if it meant being at their beck and call. If you want me to help build this order, I need a deadline, especially that we’ll both no doubt end up persons of interests if you get his acceptance and approval.”

As Ifrit heightened his voice and sunk his claws into the wooden table, Mariah only offered the slightest tilt of her head. The warrior remained composed in an eerie example of confidence, as though he hadn’t spoken his piece at all. Still, the look in her eyes, trained upon the demon, revealed a darker conclusion to all that he stated. However, she had the flickering impression that he would damn the days when she did listen.

Her eyes only fell to glimpse at the troughs that were created by his outburst. She arched an eyebrow patronizingly, however, as she lifted her focus back to him. She remained otherwise unperturbed by his shouts, and his channeled frustration into the desk. If anything, she had finally lured out the beast that she needed to see to make her closing point -- the final nail in the coffin, at least for today.

“Then come up with a better plan.”

Her words were sharp yet quiet, a stark contrast between his prior volume. The fire in her eyes burned as brightly as ever, though, as she leaned back to set her weight back against the desk. Crossing her arms over her chest, Mariah shifted her weight onto one foot, the other dancing to cross at her ankles with her toe pointed into the floor.

“If you can’t even give me an adequate answer, how in hell will you give one to any others who come to you demanding one? If you think that anyone will remain under your banner for a single day, believing that they will still be chained down to the very people they fled from -- or better yet refused their loyalty to outright -- you’re sorely mistaken. If you’re still a Sith puppet on strings without a plan to cut them, then you’re one and the same in the galaxy’s eyes. You'll fail before you even begin.”

With a scowl and sigh, Mariah turned her gaze away from her instructor and down towards her datapad that rested upon the desk. Of course, he wanted to toss that missing relic back in her face. While she couldn’t deny him that point, he couldn’t deny the point she just made either. While in these early planning stages, she had strings of her own that held her in place, no matter how much she desired to cut them. After a few seconds deep in thought, the woman biting down hard on her bottom lip, Mariah made whatever peace she could with the matter and turned to scoop up the datapad in her arms.

“Don’t you dare bring up another matter of mine that doesn’t involve you. That relic is my concern alone. Understood?”

Her narrowed eyes fell upon Ifrit for one final second before she turned and ushered her way out of the study and towards any other section of the estate where she could continue her studies in peace. At this point, this was all going to go in circles, again and again. Mariah had no desire to waste her time nor her breath. Still, before she fully departed the room, she turned at the threshold to face her instructor one final time, to make one last point clear to him.

“As it stands, I have no other option but to remain here, to help you with what I see as a fruitless pursuit. Do as you wish, Ifrit, but here is your deadline. Unless you can prove to me that we are free and disconnected to the Sith, my current plan stands as though I remain bound to them.”

To train. To discover the state of the relic. To disappear into the shadows, her whereabouts a mystery to the Sith, to the Dark Jedi, to him, to all.

“Figure it out before then, or be grateful to be rid of me. Now, since you ruined my study space in your loss of control over yourself…”

Brandishing the datapad in a silent explanation to her current affairs, Mariah made it as transparent as she could without vocalizing another word to him. As far as she perceived it, studying for the imminent exercise of this detoxifying method was a far more beneficial way to spend her time. With a mocking bow and a prompt turn on a heel, she departed outside into the estate’s gardens, where she hoped she could keep working in peace.