Hyperspace

"So I am. Touch├â┬®."

She says with a mildly seductive air about her as she looked at the bed and traced the pattern in the stitches of the mattress through the sheet.

"So you like women? I'm not sure I would have guessed that offhand."

Well I assumed, but you don't need to know that. Your job, the armor, strong silent type. Not that it's a bad thing, just interesting.

"I also wouldn't have pegged you for a talker either, you seem so---all business."

And of course I'm sure I seem like all play, my marks always thought that, now their wallets are a lot lighter and I'm here on the most important mission on the galaxy, go figure. But someone has to do it right, and while the boys all just sit around measuring their little soldiers I get the job done. I wonder if you've ever noticed that it's women who get the real work done in the galaxy after the boys have had their fun destroying it? I should focus more on the conversation, and I'll have my answers soon enough.

*Neassa only smiles enigmatically when Isabelle, apparently having taken her rolling with the game Isabelle had set in motion as revealing an interest in women, says that she would not have made the assumption based on her first impression, neither confirming nor denying the validity of her guess and instead, letting Isabelle keep wondering, says cryptically,* "Like you said, not everything is in a file."

*Setting her right thigh armor down, Neassa begins unbuckling her shin armor as she laughs when Isabelle says that she finds it surprising that she is talkative since she had been all business before and, tilting her head to the side, reminds Isabelle,* "You've read my file, *then crinkles her nose and goes on,* you should know I can be pretty much whatever I want to be. *Setting the shin guard down beside the thigh armor, Neassa folds her right leg beneath her and, bringing her left leg up to her chest to begin removing the thigh armor, looks down at it as, her hair falling to curtain her face, she says,* You may be surprised that I'm talkative, but, *she looks up at Isabelle through the curtain of her hair without lifting her head and smiles inquisitively,* I'm just as surprised that you're so interested in me when I had you pegged for only being interested in personal gain. *Tossing her head back to get her hair out of her eyes, Neassa smiles playfully and then adopts a theatrically curious expression as she asks,* I wonder, then, what exactly it is you think there is to gain by pretending, *she arches an eyebrow as though to challenge Isabelle to contradict her,* to be interested in me? So, *she rests her chin on top of her knee after setting her thigh armor down on the bed, hugging her leg to her with her wrists crossed over her ankle,* why don't you stop trying to come at it sideways and just tell me what it is you really want? *Batting her eyes playfully, Neassa says,* Maybe that's all it would take for you to get it, you never know."

What is it that I want? I don't really know.

"How do you know I just don't want to get to know the person I'll be following on this mission on a more personal level?"

She sat up on the edge of the bed and looked around the room appraising it and then to Neassa once again appraising her once more as well.

We really aren't all that different, she is whatever or whoever she needs to be to get the job done and my job is much the same. Even our living areas are similar, neat, clean, organized, lacking personal items. Mine of course has my earnings displayed, but so far I haven't noticed anything out of the plain and simple here. Maybe I'm overlooking something. Oh why am I still in here?

The answer to Isabelle's question wasn't one that she had, not consciously anyway. As similar as her and Neassa were, Isabelle's subconscious could recognize something different about her selected Shepherd. Perhaps it was a secret desire to know why the Mysterious Man didn't allow her to lead this mission, and instead had her select one from a list of potential candidates and then subject her to following their orders. Or could it be that no matter how often Neassa became someone else she always reverted back to herself at the end of the day, something that Isabelle stopped doing long before leaving Onderon, though unbeknownst to her. It seemed that she was constantly being someone else. It was a defense mechanism, and perhaps that explained her initial reaction to Siroun, her subconscious was defending itself from a possible breach in security.

She turned to face Neassa, sliding one knee onto the bed and sitting on her foot while the other foot brushed the floor as it swung from the side of the bed. Her hand rested on the bed, supporting her weight while the other lazily lay in her lap.

I suppose I should go ahead and ask her a seemingly important question to move along.

"We all want something, even out of something like this mission. So I'm curious, what is it that you hope to gain from all this?"

*Neassa arches an eyebrow with a skeptical smile when Isabelle suggests that her interest is motivated by a desire to get to know her better, crinkling her nose as she concedes,* "Anything's possible I guess," *noting the change in Isabelle's posture, which seems to Neassa like, with the focus having been turned on to her, she is almost anxious to leave and wondering why that would be when, having evidenced what Neassa had taken as a sense of self confidence bordering on arrogance when they had first met on Perses Station, she would have though the woman would welcome the chance to talk about herself.

When Isabelle, turning the focal point of the conversation, which is starting to feel to Neassa like a verbal wrestling match, back onto her, asks Neassa what it is that she hopes to gain from having joined The Organization, Neassa purses her lips in thought, debating whether to deflect the question with a glib answer or answer honestly.* *Deciding to answer truthfully since, at worst, she invites Isabelle's mockery, which she has little concern for as what an aruetii might think of her motivations has never been of any importance to her, Neassa says almost apologetically,* "I'm not sure you'd understand, *since from what she has observed Isabelle's motivations are purely materialistic and she doubts any other motivation would make sense to the woman, and then explains in a tone that is explanatory rather than one suggesting she is seeking validation praise or any other response,* When you recruited me you spoke about the fate of the universe being on the line. If there are forces out there that threaten the fate of the universe, they threaten the Mando'ade, my people too. If I can stop those forces from doing whatever it is they want to do? Then I want to be a part of that. It's as simple as that really. *Lifting her right hand from her ankle, Neassa smiles as she gestures towards Isabella invitingly and says,* You can laugh if you want, *and then, tilting her head to the side inquisitively, knowing the odds of getting an honest answer are slim to none, asks anyway,* What about you? There have to be easier ways to get rich. Less dangerous ways. Why are you in this?"

Giving her undivided attention to Neassa as she gave her reasons for joining and only nodded to acknowledge what she was saying and to convey that she was listening. And then the question was turned on Isabelle and she looked down silently in thought.

I hadn't given it much thought, it doesn't make sense for a thief to get involved. I'm not a soldier and I'm not a mercenary.

"Easier and less dangerous? Yes-"

She nodded and glanced at the door before she looked back down as she thought about how to answer.

But that's not why I'm doing this. We really aren't all that different. I have people to protect, people that depend on me. Drake, Iggy, Quincey, even some others that don't deserve it as much or even know that I'd do something like this for them, like Rowyn. I've done so many things, taken from so many people--hurt others, but I always thought they'd have the chance to regain whatever I'd taken or I'd be able to make up for my past transgressions in some way, at least the innocent ones anyway. And until the moment I was offered this job those things were far from thought, something I would be able to do after I was done with all this. Maybe this is my way of gaining penitence for all of that. Or maybe I just need to protect the ones I care about. Or maybe both?

She looked up at Neassa, the sincerity in her expression quickly replaced by a smirk as she leans back and twirls a lock of hair on her finger.

"-but not as fun or exciting. Besides eventually the Sith will start dipping their hand in my cookie jar, and then what's a girl to do for work?"

*Gliding through hyperspace is the Remnant of the Overlord.*

Fleet: Lordess Crystal Byleth
Moderate Class: 4


Medium Class: 1


Light Class: 2


Support Class: 1

Starfighters: 76

*For a moment, when Isabelle glances towards the door, Neassa thinks that she is either about to leave, leaving the question unanswered or answer unguardedly, something in her expression suggesting to Neassa that, if only for that brief instant, the woman's walls are down or she is considering lowering them; but then the by now familiar smirk and cool nonchalance return and she is given an answer that fits with Isabelle's behavior thusfar and which may just be the simple truth after all.*

*Neassa arches an eyebrow, not in surprise or judgement, merely in acknowledgement and, fairly certain from the relaxed posture that Isabelle exhibits now as opposed to the previous almost skittish move to get up and leave that the woman's armor is now back on.* *Asking another personal question would, Neassa feels almost positive, either be answered from behind Isabelle's walls and therefore glibly and unrevealingly or cause her to end the conversation by leaving; her staying for the moment suggests to Neassa, however, that she is either bored and looking to entertain herself or genuinely interested in trying to learn more about her for whatever reasons she might have for wanting to do so. She and Isabelle will be, at least for the current mission to Korriban, have to have some basic level of trust and so, not sure yet whether either of them have it in the other, Neassa decides to try and continue the conversation rather than deliberately try and end it by asking a personal question.*

*Reaching up to unfasten her military half shelter cape, Neassa, finding what she thinks is a question Isabelle just might answer, begins by saying,* "You've been a part of this longer than me, *and then, revealing the reason for the observation, asks,* What do you know about M? Do you know long has he been at this? Why he's at it? That kind of thing."