The journey from Tython to Nar Shaddaa had been anything but eventful for Bryethe. She had spent most of her time meditating upon her encounter with the Dark sider, Selene, and the words that were exchanged during that encounter. Her mind wandered over everything she had learned as a Jedi Padawan, and reflected upon her time under the tutelage of Satele Shan. She trusted the Grandmaster with her life, and would fight her hardest in return for one of the few people she could call a true friend. But words ate at the back of her mind like an Anoobis hound would to a fresh kill. 

Should she speak to Satele about the conversation with Selene?
What would this knowledge do?

Many of these troubles were pushed to the back of her mind as the [i]Starshine[/i] emerged from hyperspace above Nar Shaddaa; Brye thought it best to leave her concerns for another time. She knew Satele had much more pressing matters to deal with.

Following closely behind Satele as they entered the casino, Brye paid no mind to the guards as they walked past, knowing very well what Satele had done in a split second to allow their small party entry. Adjusting the robe over her shoulders, Brye made certain her lightsaber was hidden as they started to meander through the crowd; pickpockets were never fun to track down. 

The Padawan couldn’t say she had been to very many casinos, some would say that she needed to get out more. In truth the world of gambling and drinking was never missed in her mind, it only distracted from reality and was a breeding ground for greed and lust. She had been in her fair share of casino’s whilst she completed an assignment on the planet of Coruscant. Immersed in the gambling and thieving underbelly whilst chasing individuals she’d rather not be acquainted with. There was a reason Brye looked as though she hated her life in that moment.

[i][b]"You two go find Roana. I don't know how many are with her."[/b][/i]

For a split second, the Padawan eyed her master. [i]I don’t know how many are with her.[/i] While she wanted to argue, Brye simply let that uneasiness settle in the bond between them. [i]'I thought we were only meeting her.’[/i]
Not much more was said between Padawan and Master before her back turned and she joined Knight Balthasar, the duo disappearing into the casino crowd. 
Bryethe felt a few long moments of silence as she walked alongside Balthasar, her ears open and listening to the people and conversations around her. Arms held casually behind her back, saber hidden beneath her robe, Brye attempted to fit the part of party-goer. She was more oblivious to the fact that she was not fitting in one bit. 

She cleared her throat before glancing over at the Knight beside her. 
“So, erm, Master Balthasar-” Brye started, but her thoughts were interrupted as a large Ithorian nearly backed into her, causing the girl to step back and walk behind Balthasar for a moment. “How long have you known Satele?” 

Balthasar smiled. It was a big, earnest, easy going smile with just the right amount of restrained amusement. "I am no Master. I am a humble Knight of the Order. I take no Padawan. I had a number of Masters, personally, but..." The Jedi trailed as his gaze flicked about the totality of the casino floor with the suddenness and quickness of a candle flame caught in a breeze. Every glance was purposeful, from the direction of the first glance to the time it took him to reach the second glance, and so on. His long robed arm pointed out, to the western wall: lifts with signs that read "Rooms" on it.

Set upon their new direction, cutting through a honeycomb of quick lever games, avoiding a cocktail waitress, Balthasar dipped his head a touch and rubbed at his chin, as if he hard considered his next words. As if words much harder to him than smiles. "They died so quickly during the war. Our losses were horrifying. Combat became my obsession out of necessity--personally I'm rather fond of my connection to plant life, but it's less renowned a skill than my connection with the Force when it comes to combat." Big brown eyes looked over to the Padawan.

"That is how I met your Master. I was one of the many who followed her. Some nights she and I would talk technique, spar, and discuss our minds and hearts." [i]Some nights[/i], it went unsaid by the Jedi Knight, [i]Satele Shan was kept preoccupied by Jace Malcom.[/i] "She more than any other is who I would consider a Master--but then what is a master but a friend you can share wisdom and knowledge and duty with?" 

Brye snickered at the words of the Knight, her feet leading her around a Twi’lek who lay passed out on the Casino floor, drink in hand and snoring peacefully. 
“Words well said, she is a Master but indeed a friend as well. I see her as both, especially considering what she has done for me. There is a time to be a friend and a time to be Master and Padawan, and she has shown me both.”

Bryethe reflected upon her time as Satele’s padawan as the pair walked, her eyes set upon their new destination. No doubt she exaggerated at times, but being the Padawan of the Grandmaster did make Brye feel like there were many eyes on her at times, watching, judging, expecting something more; and other times Brye forgot just who her master was. Satele treated her as any other Jedi would; she received no special treatment aside from the fact that she was able to learn from the Grandmaster of the Order, something the Padawan did not take for granted.

Despite the loss she had experienced, she was thankful for the will of the Force.  

“Sometimes I find myself taking a step back to look at all that has happened. I try not to get too sentimental about it but I’m grateful for what I have learned and I feel indebted to her as a friend.” 

Brye grew quiet as they approached the lifts, attempting to avoid any eavesdropping from those coming off and those loitering around, trying to decide if they were done drinking and gambling for the night; but for many, the night had only just begun.

“The war is not over. I would take the chance to reflect while you have it; I fear soon we will have few chances to do so.”

Balthasar smiled softly at the end of the sentence, trying to soften the blow perhaps? Not that there was much softening their current goal. The lift they shared with a quiet green skinned alien couple, “pro-am” gamblers judging from the few words whispered between the couple. The couple got off at the 7th floor. The Jedi remained until the 20th.

When the door hissed open the Jedi Knight’s eyebrows perked. He saw six Mandalorian warriors in the hall. “I don’t believe the one we want is among them.” So the Jedi Knight smiled wide and bright and waved his hand, palm out, towards the group. “Howdy fellas.”

The Mandalorians just glared, until one of the taller amongst them piped up, pointing at Brye, “It’s the Padawan. Jie, tell Roana they’re here.”

The hotel room door closest to their informal gathering, allowing the sounds from beyond the door free, desperate screams and impossibly deep moans, the sound of skin on skin. The Jedi Knight found himself blinking. “I don’t think they’re sparring in there.”

“She’ll see you. Come on.” The Mandalorian he presumed to be Jie motioned them closer, a half cape and full beskar armor, as he hung half out the door himself. When they arrived the sounds had mostly stopped, save for a naked brunette human woman covered with only a sheet upon the bed, covered in sweat, panting, and still allowing tiny moans to part high glossed painted lips.

Roana emerged from the bathroom, hair flowing long and wavy, her tall and strong figure covered quickly in a robe, a thin layer of sweat still clinging to her skin just as hotly as the scent of sex did.

Roana took a quick swig of something on the coffee table between couches in the small lounge of the Casino hotel room. Something that burned, given the sudden short lived wince her face provided, before it was gone fast as it had arrived, green eyes burning holes into the Jedi. Her lips slipping into a smile at the sight of the Padawan, body leaning back into the corner of the couch, legs crossed under the robe, side of her head resting on a hand as she grinned.

“Come for a different kind of training, Padawan?”

Jie chuckled as he slipped out, back into the hall. The woman on the bed simply stating in a weak voice, “I just need a minute. Oh, God…”

Brye took Balthasar’s words to heart. Her suspicions were confirmed, not that it was that difficult to guess the direction of the war. Dxun had only solidified what Brye thought of it. 

The younger Jedi was slightly alarmed at the sight of the six Mandalorians gathered in the hallway. At quick glance, she knew none of them were Roana. The one Brye could only guess as Jie was instructed to let Roana know they had arrived; but moments later Brye’s head was filled with sounds she preferred to have not heard at all. 

[i][b]“I don’t think they’re sparring in there.”[/b][/i]

The Padawan heard Balthasar’s comment but her mind was too busy trying not to imagine what was actually going on in that room. Those screams and moans, that brunette hair; suddenly Brye found herself walking into the room behind Balthasar. She blinked at Roana’s question. 

[i]More training? But, you’re a Mandolorian, what could a Mando possibly-[/i]

The woman’s eyes darted to the other woman on the bed, her body covered by a simple bedsheet, but also covered in sweat and the smell of love and lust. That smell filled the air of the room, a musky, thick smell that made the nose wrinkle a little. She took in a sharp breath as she realized just what Roana was getting at. She began coughing as she choked on her own saliva. Her cheeks blushed in embarrassment, covering her mouth as she coughed once more. 

“No, we- uh, [i]we[/i] came to find you because Satele asked us to. She’s down on the casino level.” she replied. Brye’s eyes darted around Roana, refusing to keep eye contact for a period of time due to the simple fact that she was [i]very[/i] embarrassed. 

"Everyone but the Jedi out."

The words were spoken so gently they might have sounded strange coming from Roana. The girl on the bed moved slowly and even more carefully, shot a glare towards both of the Jedi, but moved out of the room just the same. Roana knew the girl's "clothing" was in another room, but to the Jedi it might just look like the Mandalorian tossed the girl out unceremoniously. Didn't matter to Roana in the slightest. Her focus was singular, or so it might seem, as the Mandalorian woman stood from the couch and moved to the Jedi in just a few strides. 

The smile on her lips was crooked, and part grin, her darker red hair long and smelled like sweat and soap as she got close enough to the Padawan for the girl to smell it. Even without armor Roana was taller than Brye by a good clip, though Balthasar had more than a few inches on the Mandalorian out of armor. Yet Roana's posture said she towered over both, and it did so as casually and naturally as the woman breathed. 

When the room was cleared, Roana's smile played at the corners of her mouth, her tone more serious but her eyes a drunken mix of the playful and the serious. Green eyes that dove from Brye's jawline, to her neck, to her chest, to her midsection, hips, thighs...all the way down her eyes went. There was no effort to hide it, to be subtle about eyeing the Jedi Padawan up and down. Or the grin that resulted from it. 

Withouth warning the woman ducked in closer to the Padawan, her lips so close to the Padawan's ear the girl would feel Roana's lips vibrate against her ear when the whisper was voiced. The Padawan would blush again, and Roana would pretend not to enjoy it quite so much as she really did. Roana suddenly stepped back, making a wide sweeping motion with her right hand, towards the holoscreen in the room. 

After a quick button push on a small remote, the image of the casino floor played. "The one without eyes is one of you Jedi. He got here before your group did. Your Master Satele Shan you know. This one," she said, an unpainted nail pointing to the masked man in black robes, "is Darth Marr. When it comes to the chain of command of the Sith Empire, Marr is pretty close to a true second to the Emperor as exists. Shan and Marr speak a little, then quietly stare at another for twice as long--a conversation among thoughts is our thinking based on the eye contact she tries to make with his mask, and the way his face angles, even if just barely, right...there. Like he's trying to look into her eyes, too, and read her."

Her tone changed the moment her eyes moved from Balthasar to Brye, the Padawan. Roana reached out and grabbed Brye's hand, tugging at it gently, demanding the Padawan's eyes. "We're going out on a limb doing this. Sure it's paying off for Clan Madog, but you can't blame us for watching..." Roana leaned in close again, whispering again, though her mouth never got nearly as close to Brye's ear. This time. And this time even Balthasar could hear the whisper. 

"And you can't blame me for wanting to show you something I found interesting."