[center][b]Aboard the Dagda – En Route, Korriban[/b][/center] --- Azazel stumbles out from her holocron chamber rubbing her eyes groggily. Nothing. She was so tired from being unable to sleep now that she had heard not a word whispered. The promises of power alluded her this morning. She steadies herself against a wall and winces, massaging her sore legs. She frowns and leans against the corridor wall and sighs to herself. She was struggling to do things that should come naturally. She was always tired, sick and sore anymore. She was slacking. She should be doing something more meaningful. Unlocking the secrets and developing her own powers. Deep down she knew she was still an amateur with the arts of manipulating fire. Her skills were mediocre at best at times. She seeps down to the floor and draws her legs up as best she can with a wince as it strains a muscle. She frowns and rests her head back to the cold metal and closes her eyes. Five months. Four more to go. And she was growing fatter by the day. Weaker. The other siths must be looking down at her. Gra'tua was a fine general. Lena was an assassin to reckon with. Andrea and Traiserus had both excelled far beyond her in the force. Even Jacoiba who she knew so little of seemed capable of so much physical prowess and destruction. So what was she good at? Nothing. She sniffles and sits there, feeling sorry for herself. Kitt pauses, walking by and furrows her brow, backtracking. “I was just looking for you. Reports are in. No go with the spies. The smugglers got a message across to Zarra though. She'll try to be at The Wheel, but apparently she has bounty hunters on her tail sent by.. Jehemath.” She crouches down and looks at Azazel curiously, “Why are you on the floor.” Azazel huffs and shoos her away. “Just as I thought. I am sure there is someone helping him, that does not wish him found at this moment. Let him gather his allies and strength once more, I am sure. Of course... It was just a lucky cast of the dice we found the information on his planned assault last time.” Kitt rolls her eyes, “Come on. I want to see if my tweaking my shield did anything. Maybe it can offer a little more protection against you big scary sith. Up.” She lightly nudges Azazel with her toes. Azazel looses a small whine and tries to get up. She frowns and strains, turning herself a bit and tries to raise herself. “I'm stuck,” she finally sighs in exasperation. Kitt blinks before stifling a laugh, reaching an arm out and grasping Azazel's forearm. “Alright, come on. One... Two...” She hefts and with a grunt says, “Three.” Azazel staggers to her feet, near lifted clear up by the small Echani alone. She blinks and tries to catch her balance, using the girl to steady herself. “There. That wasn't so bad.” “I'd prefer not to need help doing something so stupidly simple, though,” Azazel snorts, straightening out her hair. Kitt rolls her eyes, arms still on Azazel. “You have a good excuse. Just watch. After this, you'll be a mother to two beautiful children and back to your good old self.” Azazel grumbles under her breath, “Sure, sure... Of course, their father is still off to gods know where with [i]Lena[/i].” She frowns and rubs over her face, “Of course, just watch, he is going to leave me for her... She's so much more skilled... And look at me, fat as a Jakobeast!” Kitt furrows her brow before sighing, “You aren't. And if he does, he is an idiot. Come on. Let's get you active. Maybe the endorphins will do you good. Pick you up, get you out of your head. You've been dwelling too much lately.” --- Azazel staggers and pants, reaching out and grasping the railing. The training saber visibly shakes in her hand before going out and dropping to the ground. She shudders and draws herself over to the waste recepticle, feeling nauseous and faint. Kitt comes up behind her, dropping her shield and scooping Azazel's hair up in her hands and holding it back if the woman was to get sick. Wrangling the mass of hair finally into one hand, she runs a hand soothingly over Azazel's back. “Going to be okay?” “No!” she snaps with a sob, feeling the nausea beginning to pass. For once without incidence. Kitt frowns and simply waits there beside her. The moment begins to draw on before Azazel shrugs Kitt away and stands, snapping the practice saber in her hand with a tug of the force. “Come on... Let's keep going...” Kitt steps back hesitantly. “I don't know... You look like you can use a break... We can stop for now. You can rest, get your feet up. We can always continue later.” Azazel wipes over her face with her sleeve and shakes her head, “No. We go now. I have to be better. I can't be so weak. What if we encounter Traiserus, hmm? Am I just supposed to roll over and plead for a reprieve so I can cool off? No. He will not stop, he will not hesitate. I hurt his pride. He will not be so easy next time.” Kitt frowns and draws herself into a pose ready to dash if need be. Azazel like this, she might lash out without intending to... And not in a friendly practice manner. “I thought you said you will let your disciples handle him... Them, myself, Xen. Not barrel in there recklessly and risk yourself and kids. What did your Master say.” Azazel glowers and strikes out with her hand, flames barreling out and going to envelop Kitt. The Echani was too slow to move. Instead, Azazel watches it wash safely over her form as she raises her arms to protect her face. Her shield was definitely seeming to work. “I am not my master! I could never... Never be that great. I already failed her expectations...” She grimaces and draws her hands to her face, flames flickering along her arms and beginning to burn away the cloth where it touched. “No, no, no... I will let them... But what if it is not enough... What if...” She frowns and swallows, “I don't want any of you to die, I can't let that happen, not like with Aggros...” Azazel continues in that manner, repeating her failures of late time and time again. How everything went wrong. That she was not good enough. That she was even having to rely upon Gra'tua for help by sending his disciples. She was so swept up in her own self-depreciating cycle downwards she does not notice Kitt close the gap. Or the scorched hands reach up. Not until they brush aside her arms delicately and cup her cheek. Azazel blinks, eyes following along the wrists and the reddened flesh that even now burned with heat against her face. She chokes back a sob and shakes her head. As she begins to open her mouth to begin anew, Kitt places a finger to her lips and gives her a stern look. “Azazel, shut up for just once in your life.” Shocked, and taken aback, the Sith falls into silence and looks at the officer uncertainly. She should punish her for speaking out against her... But then again, had she not told herself she would be better than that. She swallows and closes her eyes, nodding slightly. Kitt takes a deep breath of relief and resumes her hands to cupping her cheeks as she murmurs, her tone softer now. “You are not inferior. You are not a failure. You are a strong woman and from what I saw, Traiserus was struggling against you just as much. The only difference was you had, have, have more to lose. So what... You are carrying. Yes, it is effecting you... I have seen it... You aren't sleeping... You are all over the walls... You are not behaving as yourself. But you are not weak.” Azazel furrows her brow and nods slightly, “Perhaps... I am not... but... Maybe I will feel better... When we reach Korriban... Andrea...” Kitt growls and draws her hands away in a fit. She lashes out at the air as she turns about and paces. Wheeling back around, “Why?! Why Andrea. She is a horrible woman! She does not respect you. She doesn't respect anyone! She probably just wants to use you and keep you as some pet in her collection!” Kitt, fuming does not relent or give Azazel a word in edge-wise. “She does not care about you or she would not have lied! She would not stir up fights with you so often. She would have spoken plainly to you, and given you reason to trust her.” She clenches her fists, “Don't you get it, Azazel?! There are people here that care about you. That trust you with their lives and have been nothing but honest and true with you! They would die for you. They worship you. Some [i]love you[/i].” Azazel stands there, aghast and at a loss for words as Kitt strides back, squaring herself off to Azazel and despite her shorter stature almost seemed as if she was to loom over the sith. “So why Andrea... Why go back to her... Why do you give her your love... She can't possibly be what you deserve...” Azazel frowns, taking a step back, “What is this about... This, coming out of nowhere...” Kitt's outrage begins to falter as she takes another step forward.. And another... until she stands flush with Azazel and draws her close against herself. Standing on her tiptoes, she presses her lips to Azazel's in an awkward fumble. The sith hesitates. She fails to draw back, or respond. Kitt draws her mouth away, just a fraction and murmurs, “Can't you see what's here, right in front of you... Can't you notice me...” Azazel still does not respond, apart from a hand raising and lightly touching her own lips. Confusion runs across her face as her brow knits and she stares at the officer... No, Kitt. She swallows and crooks her head ever so slightly. Unsure what she was talking about. “Gra'tua... he's a nice guy... but he's a man obsessed... And Andrea just cares about herself... What makes her happy... Azazel... I love you... and I have... I used to try and get past it. You are older... You are my commander... And you are a Sith...” Her hands trace over Azazel's lips, alongside the sith's fingers before brushing back her hair and tucking it behind her ear. “You aren't like them, though... I see it time and time again... You can be so gentle and caring...” She loosely drapes her arms about the taller woman's shoulders, looking her in the eyes. “So why let yourself get dragged down by them...” Azazel's breath begins to quicken and come shallower as she closes her eyes, tears threatening to flow. “Kitt... You're still... still so young... I don't think you know what you're talking about... Andrea is... and Gra'tua... And I'm...” Kitt cuts her off, brushing her lips over hers once more, a little more certain in herself, “I'm not so young... And I've had a lot of time to think about this... So... What's wrong with me...” Azazel trembles, beginning to draw away, “Nothing... Nothing at all, little dove.” She takes a deep breath, “But you should not have done that... You... You do not understand my feelings about those two... Or truly how I am.” Azazel frowns and cups Kitt's chin as the Echani begins to tremble and tears threaten the corner of her eyes, “Hush, hush...” Azazel lightly pecks at the corner of her lips. “Do not cry...” She kisses the other side. “This... is not about any flaw of yours... You are strong...” Her lips curl into a smile, “And you are fierce...” She leans in a little closer, “Fearless...” Her eyes stare into the Echani's own wide pair, quivering and cheeks flared red. “And you...” Her lips were barely away from hers before her expression goes cold and she softly squeezes her cheeks together with her hand making her lips pucker. “Are still young.” “This is but a mere crush, little dove. For someone who has been there for you and showed you care... I am not saying your feelings are not real... Perhaps they truly are genuine... But you are neigh more than child and your heart is fickle and wild with youth.” She releases and draws away, capturing Kitt's arms and inspecting the burns on her hands. She sighs and lightly graces her fingertips over the injuries before shaking her head. “I am sorry for this. I lost myself... Come. We are going to the clinic, now.” Kitt whimpers and does not follow as Azazel begins to turn to leave. She closes her eyes and begins to feel tears ready to begin pouring. Yet she cannot. She sighs and watches the Sith, even as she turns and stops with realizing Kitt was not following. Thinking Azazel was too far away to hear, she mutters meekly, “But I do love you...” Azazel crosses her arms and balls her hand, drawing it inwards to herself and tugging Kitt forcibly to her side with the force as she hisses. “If you do, then prove it. Prove to me you aren't some lovesick child and I [i]might[/i] reconsider and take you seriously... Until then, though... You will behave yourself and listen to me. And right now...” She lowers her gaze, relaxing and picking a soft reassuring coo to address her, “Right now someone I have watched grow and come to care for has been injured at my hands and I will see it rectified. So come now before I have to drag you... And I would rather not, I really am quite exhausted.”