She smirks a little, but does start to lead the way. "What do we call you?"

"We?" he deflects, to give himself a moment to think about his answer. "Is there a third party to this conversation that I should know about?" 

The droid creaks to life at that moment.

The Sith turns slightly to watch him. "Myself, the droid. And I have a few others who work for me, you'll meet them."

"—ah. My apologies for ignoring your companion, then." He nods at the droid in a way that manages to give the impression of a shallow, polite bow. 

"And you can call me Valara, for now." It's as much for himself as anything, a reminder not to drop his guard completely around the Sith. "Might I have names to call the two of you?" 

"Darth Pyktis," she points to herself, then to the droid. "HK-24."

The droid responds to the nod with a nod of its own, and a slight bow.

"A pleasure to meet you both," he says out of habit.

No name for the droid, just a designation. Curious. Or maybe Pyktis doesn't trust him with the name yet, just as he doesn't trust her with his.

"May I ask where we'll be going, once any tracking devices are dealt with?"

"One of my compounds," Pyktis says as she continues on their way. "It's secure."

That's fair.

"And will I be allowed to leave it alive, once I know its location?" he asks, tone light to cover his genuine worry. 

"I think that'll rather depend on whether you make me think you're going to run back to the Jedi."

Wry smile. "I think, at this point, they'll have to chase me down themselves." 

"Then I don't predict a problem. Except for a lack of transport on your part."

Speaking of transport, here's Pyktis' ship - a Corellian freighter from the look of it, not obviously modified.

"I expect that to be a solvable problem, particularly if we part on good terms." 

Nice ship. Less ominous than he might have expected, but he supposes that would hardly be good for stealth. 

"I rather expect it would be, yes."

It continues to be not very ominous, if somewhat stark on the inside. Pyktis leads the way into what appears to be a work room.

"Your communicator," she says. HK-24 appears to have gone in a different direction.

He hands it over, looking around the room with curiosity. He's still not quite turning his back on Pyktis, keeping her in his peripheral vision. 

She sets to work on it.

The room is well stocked, with supplies for a variety of repairs that would need doing around a ship, and a few things that might be personal projects.

After a few minutes, curiosity and boredom combine to set Jerex wandering around the room, not touching anything but peering with interest at the personal projects. 

Pyktis barely appears to be paying him any mind.

The projects vary: a few scale models of different generators or hyperdrives, a half-built blaster, some other weapons, but perhaps tellingly, no further lightsaber designs.

That is interesting, but not surprising given what he's seen of Pyktis' tactics so far. Jerex doesn't have more than a basic knowledge of generator or hyperdrive mechanisms, so he focuses on the weapons, assessing what he can tell of the quality.

They're good quality, despite the fact that some of them do appear to be attempts at amalgamations of different weapons. Assuming that they're functional, they all look, without fail, like they're designed to be deadly.

"I'm done here," Pyktis says, straightening up from her work bench and stretching.

He looks over. "Was our caution warranted?" 

"Yes. There was a tracker. You'd almost think they didn't trust you."

"Well, they weren't exactly wrong." 

He comes over to stand near Pyktis, looking down at her workbench. "Thank you." 

She smiles slightly as she pushes herself to her feet. "You're welcome. And now that that's taken care of, we can get on our way."