Taking Wing (Ali, Closed)

[Professor Mors]

Sa'ato sighed in relief, leaning back in the copilot's seat. As he had suspected, or rather sensed, there were no drastic turn of events back in Sith Space that would require the duo to hasten back to The Reach. Of course, there was always more work to be done, but the Neti's swift and unquestioned elevation to the position of high priest was not without its benefits. At the least, delegation was usually an option for less pressing tasks– not that the professor was opposed to getting his hands dirty. Nonetheless, regardless of her own physical enthusiasm, or else indifference to climbing the ranks, the academic would not drag a wounded Aliclair back to the gundark's nest so soon.

Much more imminent than the Dark Siders' return however, was the continued need for discretion. For months, Sa'ato had worked closely with the more technically-minded cultists to rig a Sith-based communications system routed through the Outer Rim. The result had been a seamless hijacking of one of the larger sports-news broadcasters based in Hutt Space. If the Auschian's Jedi-Minded Queen, or anyone else happened to be scrutinizing or monitoring transmissions to and from the ship, it would merely log as the old academic updating his fantasy league and messaging on an adjoining fan board.

Having accomplished his tasks thus, the Neti then turned to procuring a slightly-less formal outfit for the impending festivities. He quickly settled on a deep emerald green vest with a matching silk undershirt, and a pair of brown dress trousers that neither masked nor horribly clashed with his oaken complexion. Serendipitously, or else nudged by The Force, the professor was just disembarking back onto the docking bay when he spotted his princess-ward in the distance and politely waved her entourage down. "M'Lady-", he bowed courteously to the Felidae, before narrowing his eyes momentarily at her companion.

"-And General, a pleasure to be sure", Sa'ato concluded with a friendly smile. Learning foreign rank pips was not the most arduous task– but given their short interval on the planet, inwardly, the retired teacher was pleased with his progress…

[Aliclair Austjor]

The two cruised in simple conversation. They were mainly updating the heiress on what happened between the leave of her planet and her sudden appearances over the past few months making headlines; it sparks many controversies and theories amongst the people, and Aliclair couldn't help but to chuckle in amusement. It was rare for her to smile and laugh but the people never failed to put a genuine one on her face. It was a nice walk to the royal shipyard where they reached the Professor's ship where, luckily, they came after his report. Ali's smile stayed on her lips seeing him, offering him small but meaningful ballerina bow and the General a simple head bow. "Are we ready to depart? The festival starts soon." Ali said softly.

"Before we do, I must say something." the General said, roughly. Not like his usual self and a similar Sith shade loomed over the area, his wing blocking their path. "I know what you are. Don't think I will not take manners into my own hands if you decide to act on your malicious intents, no matter status in life. I swore to protect the throne, and I hope for your sake, your Lord doesn't have their eyes on this planet." he rumbled through narrowed eyes before withdrawing his wing. "Does.. my mother know?" Ali asked with her ears dropped, the sterling earring latched to them jangling lightly. "No, but she suspects. And I will need to confirm it. I don't know how she'll react but I suspect it'd be very bittersweet. And I also hope this whole heroic act wasn't a facade-" he continued but Ali offered him a serious glare, her teeth slightly bared. "My parents' lives were at stake. Moreso my father; I will not hear of my 'heroic acts'! I foresaw the events of their assassination and came to prevent it, and that I did. They are my parents. I love them and I will always put their needs over my own. Even if I am an heiress, they can always make another. Yes, we are Sith. I was... changed into one from a Padawan. Nothing has changed; I don't intend to sell out my home for them so enough of this!"

There was an intense silence until Gattgrou's aura withdrew into himself and he offered a sincere head bow toward Ali. "Forgive me... I was brash." - "Forgiven." She snorted before looking toward Sa'ato. "Shall we?"

[Professor Mors]

In spite of his refined intellect, Sa'ato was immune to neither failure nor miscalculation. Having flown under the Jedi Queen's radar, the Neti had let his guard down. Now, inwardly, he cursed his inadequate foresight. Of course there were bound to be other Jedi sympathizers so close to the Alliance capital. The professor would have to think– and act fast. Thankfully, the grizzly general felt confident enough to monologue his discovery. As he did so, the retired teacher drew upon his natural shapeshifting, and filed his index finger into a minute but razor-sharp spike. It would all be over in an instant: one good thrust through the nasal cavity and into the brain…

Sa'ato, for all his scheming, was cut off by the conflicted heiress just before he could deliver the manufactured hemorrhage. Though the Neti did not will his jaw to drop to the floor, it certainly felt as though it had. Nonetheless, as Aliclair angrily revealed the duo's tableau, the retired teacher's trepidation flared to frustration, anger– and then surprise. Though her reprimand was brief, the professor could see that the princess' future servant had been sufficiently cowed. Such being the case, Sa'ato let his claw wilt and relax into a normal digit, before nodding and taking his place alongside the Felidae and her unruly escort.

"I don't know if it was wise to confirm his suspicions", the Neti counseled Aliclair, speaking directly to her mind with his thoughts, "That said, you have done well–". Sa'ato floated a gilt eye over to his feline companion, and psionically concluded, "I wonder though, do you mean to discuss this with Their Highnesses before we depart?"...

[Aliclair Austjor]

"Worry not about that," she stated with half vexation, nott targeting toward the Neti professor. His concern well placed; the Sith relied heavily on their secrecy to survive and maintain order. This was not wise to do but Aliclair knew no news would spread. There was too much at stake with the history of the Kingdom surviving and actively protecting and having a strong distaste for Sith. Exhaling and shutting her eyes for a second, she met his eyes with slightly swiveled back ears, the jingling of expensive jewelry coming off them as they dangled from her leaflets. "They all have their own secrets to bare for the better of the Kingdom. This one is mine. They know, and honestly it's better if they do. They can be good allies if we need them. But I do apologize for acting rash. He overstepped." She added, quirking her brow with epiphany. Her mother and top General knowing definitely would have it advantages in the future. "I'm going to need to after all that's happened. And, of course... to bid them farewell." She finished, sadness lingering in her opalescent before they dissipated.

[Professor Mors]

Once the general had retreated some, Sa'ato ventured a step forward, and placed a gentle, rootlike hand over Aliclair's shoulder. "You owe me no apology– it's been a long few days", the professor continued, squeezing ever so softly with sympathy, taking care not to ruffle the Felidae's outfit, "I shall be at your side if and when you need me– do not fret about politics or long farewells for now". The retired academic offered another encouraging smile, "I meant what I said early. As you… advance in your studies, in our organization, there will soon be little if anything to detain you. Your future, the future of your dynasty, and of this world, are entirely in your hands– I know it".

The vibrations and noise from the imminent revelry quickly rippled through the duo's quiet moment. Looking ahead, Sa'ato could see that the pair had nearly reached the main hall where the celebration and merriment was to occur. To Aliclair's previous point, apart from the lavish nature of the decor, the setting was vibrant, colorful, warm– all she had expressed of her people and their culture. The Neti was not usually one for large parties and raucous crowds, but he trusted the Felidae to be his guide, and, failing that, it was far easier to disappear and seek refuge from big gatherings rather than small ones.

Thus, Sa'ato once again released his hold over his companion, and instead swept an emphatic hand forward, "Shall we then?"...