![House-Verd.png]](https://i.ibb.co/XY5FZ6c/House-Verd.png])
POLARIS COURT
Golbah Hill, Confederate Capital
Click. Clack.
There was something therapeutic about the movements on the board. Something satisfying about the sound of wooden pieces settling into place. The game was as old as civilization itself; and though there were countless "modern" varieties, the original was certainly the best. So excellent was the past time that it occupied one of the Vicelord's open afternoons. It was a rare occurrence that the schedule was clear. Rarer still that the sun was up when there was time to do nothing at all. Thus, he took advantage of the moment. A mere stone's throw from his office were the Rose Gardens.
There, alongside two souls did he sit. Before him laid the chessboard, settled neatly upon one of the many marble tables. The game was in its early phases - it was still far too early to tell which side had the advantage. Today marked one of the first times that his partner, Darth Elyria, had the chance to watch him play. And, it was the first time that John Locke played against the Vicelord. The afternoon, it seemed, was full of firsts.
Darth Metus slid his rook forward. His style was clearly the more aggressive of the two. John was far more calculated in his approach. Passive. Still sussing out how many moves ahead he could plan. He wasn't a successful CEO for nothing. "Your move." the Vicelord added, grinning, before treating himself to a drink from his water glass. The Exarch quietly pondered and moved his Knight on the far side of the board.
"Why do you do it?"
The question was seemingly out of the blue and devoid of context. Darth Metus raised his brow - his expression clearly asking do what? The Exarch's hands came to rest upon the table, one thumb neatly folded over the other. "I've been meaning to ask you for sometime. Since you made me Exarch, actually." he began, motioning towards the board as he spoke. Darth Metus set his gaze upon the pieces momentarily - a few options were immediately evident but he held his peace for now.
"On paper, everything I know about you is exactly opposite to who you are in person. Former Mand'alor. Sith Lord. Yet...here we are. Why do you do it?"
The primordial woman at the Sith's side stirred. Her patience for mundane things, such as chess, was limited to say the very least. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised the Vicelord if she vanished off to do...just what did she do to keep busy these days? He shuddered at the thought. Yet, for but a moment, she seemed...interested in the conversation. Her form straighted on the bench, gaze falling square upon her mate's expression. "Yes, why do you do it?"
The Sith moved one of his pawns forward. A simple move. His bishop would soon be unleashed.
"I do many things, you'll have to be more specific than that."
As his hand returned from the piece, his expression was not defensive in the slightest. Rather, he seemed amused more than anything. That was...positive...to say the very least. So, John felt confident in continuing. "Well. You're a Sith...but, you're in power for a few years at a time. Why?"
"You mean, why did I insist on the term limit for Vicelord?"
"Exactly."
"You do recall how annoying it is to deal with the Viceroyalty, right?" he began. "I distinctly remember you beating your head with your datapad when the last Bill from Ra'Katha was presented." He chuckled at the thought. Elyria's eyebrow raised.
"You told me datapads were for the huluwet. You never said they were a weapon." Her tone was a cocktail of venom and confusion. He had agreed to tutor her in the ways of modern society - and hiding any potential bludgeoning tool was a grave offense. Darth Metus huffed. "HoloNet, dear. HoloNet. And that's my point it's not a weapon. You're supposed to be gentle with it."
Crisis averted, for the moment. "Yes, I recall..." John said, steering the conversation once more.
"I've no intention of putting up with pompous bullchit for the rest of my life. I'd rather date a Jedi." The Exarch's face was immediately taken aback, for the object of his desire was a fiery-haired Jedi lass. The Sith chuckled, motioning towards the board. "No offense, of course."
"Uh. Huh." the retort was mirthless and coupled with the Knight crashing through his pawns. It was a clean kill, nothing in range to counter. Petty personified.
"I'm serious! I love what I do, but I don't intend on spending eternity behind a desk. One of these days I'll retire and kick my feet up."
"That sounds as appealing as dating a Jedi."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it."
Though answered in that same light-hearted tone that he had come to be familiar with, John was left...wanting. The path that he was one was home. Yet, on paper? He loved a Jedi. He had family pledged to the Light. He wasn't a bad man by any stretch of the imagination. Damn good at business? Absolutely. But there were morals there. Yet, his boss was a Sith Lord. Yet, his boss wasn't a Sith Lord. It didn't add up.
"I guess what I'm really asking is...why are you a Sith?"
Darth Metus' arms folded upon his chest momentarily. His expression was thoughtful, mostly due to debating on which of his plans he needed to execute on the board next. After a moment of pondering, he looked up. "That's a little personal, don't you think?"
"You told me to, and I quote, suck Gianna's toes. We're past personal, aren't we?" Check and Mate.
"Alright alright, you got me there." he said. His rook then sang across the board, ripping through an exposed pawn. His bishop now had a clear route..
"Firstly, do you know what Jedi and Sith are?"
John's expression said "duh", but that wasn't satisfactory for the Vicelord. After the move, he refolded his arms before his chest. "Most say Jedi are Light, Sith are Dark. Jedi are Good, Sith are Bad. But, historically, that perception is a crock of bull."
"If you were to lose Gianna tomorrow, you'd be sad right? If she were hurt, you'd be mad. If she said yes, you'd be overjoyed. Are those all accurate statements?"
"Of course they are." he answered, biting back a but what does that have to do...
"If you were a Jedi, you wouldn't. You wouldn't allow yourself to be sad. Or mad. Or overjoyed. You bury those natural parts of being Human. Why? Because Sith are the exact opposite. Sith embrace all it means to be Human, and then they do something with it. If you're sad, you do something with it. Mad? Happy? Action."
John's gaze slid to Darth Elyria, whose offhand rose as the Vicelord spoke. Her hand shook to side to side, denoting more or less. He took the chance to move - his Knight slid into place, blocking the path of the bishop. Darth Metus had to focus to keep his expression even. "In my case...I was angry. And I was sad. You know I was a card carrying Mandalorian most of my life. But, one day, the King decided to kick everyone who was force sensitive out. Including those who bled their whole lives for Mandalore."
"Lucky for me, I had built my home and raised my kids out here. And that's where I went after we got the boot. I took that pain and I did something with it. Here we are."
"But.
"But?"
"You're...decent. You don't order the army to genocide people. You-"
"The words you're looking for are 'you're not Sith-Imperial.' I was raised Mandalorian. A good chunk of my life was spent seeing what our angsty Sith neighbors did to get their way, and fighting against them. Not a huge fan of that methodology."
"But having fought against them, you ended up becoming one?"
The Vicelord shrugged his shoulders. "My conversion was made under duress - which is a story for another time. Took the lessons, as I figured they could be useful for back home. They were in the long run. Following getting das boot...it was all I had left."
John wagged a finger, jokingly. "Come now, there's always the Light."
"The Jedi Code prohibits sucking on toes."
The two shared a hearty laugh. Elyria, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. The details of her mate's ideals were interesting, but her time was better spent doing more. Such as plotting revenge against the oven and it's damn clock. "Are you finished? I'd like to go." Blunt, as always. But, at least this time there was no threat of spine removal.
"Almost. Just got one more move." he answered, before returning his gaze to the Exarch. "To put it simply, the Dark suits me. You can be a Sith, and not be an nerf herder."
"You can be a Jedi, and be an nerf herder."
His hand moved the bishop along the path, capturing the Knight. From that position, it would be easy for John to take it...but for every capture, the next move would result in one outcome.
"Check mate."
Golbah Hill, Confederate Capital
Click. Clack.
There was something therapeutic about the movements on the board. Something satisfying about the sound of wooden pieces settling into place. The game was as old as civilization itself; and though there were countless "modern" varieties, the original was certainly the best. So excellent was the past time that it occupied one of the Vicelord's open afternoons. It was a rare occurrence that the schedule was clear. Rarer still that the sun was up when there was time to do nothing at all. Thus, he took advantage of the moment. A mere stone's throw from his office were the Rose Gardens.
There, alongside two souls did he sit. Before him laid the chessboard, settled neatly upon one of the many marble tables. The game was in its early phases - it was still far too early to tell which side had the advantage. Today marked one of the first times that his partner, Darth Elyria, had the chance to watch him play. And, it was the first time that John Locke played against the Vicelord. The afternoon, it seemed, was full of firsts.
Darth Metus slid his rook forward. His style was clearly the more aggressive of the two. John was far more calculated in his approach. Passive. Still sussing out how many moves ahead he could plan. He wasn't a successful CEO for nothing. "Your move." the Vicelord added, grinning, before treating himself to a drink from his water glass. The Exarch quietly pondered and moved his Knight on the far side of the board.
"Why do you do it?"
The question was seemingly out of the blue and devoid of context. Darth Metus raised his brow - his expression clearly asking do what? The Exarch's hands came to rest upon the table, one thumb neatly folded over the other. "I've been meaning to ask you for sometime. Since you made me Exarch, actually." he began, motioning towards the board as he spoke. Darth Metus set his gaze upon the pieces momentarily - a few options were immediately evident but he held his peace for now.
"On paper, everything I know about you is exactly opposite to who you are in person. Former Mand'alor. Sith Lord. Yet...here we are. Why do you do it?"
The primordial woman at the Sith's side stirred. Her patience for mundane things, such as chess, was limited to say the very least. In fact, it wouldn't have surprised the Vicelord if she vanished off to do...just what did she do to keep busy these days? He shuddered at the thought. Yet, for but a moment, she seemed...interested in the conversation. Her form straighted on the bench, gaze falling square upon her mate's expression. "Yes, why do you do it?"
The Sith moved one of his pawns forward. A simple move. His bishop would soon be unleashed.
"I do many things, you'll have to be more specific than that."
As his hand returned from the piece, his expression was not defensive in the slightest. Rather, he seemed amused more than anything. That was...positive...to say the very least. So, John felt confident in continuing. "Well. You're a Sith...but, you're in power for a few years at a time. Why?"
"You mean, why did I insist on the term limit for Vicelord?"
"Exactly."
"You do recall how annoying it is to deal with the Viceroyalty, right?" he began. "I distinctly remember you beating your head with your datapad when the last Bill from Ra'Katha was presented." He chuckled at the thought. Elyria's eyebrow raised.
"You told me datapads were for the huluwet. You never said they were a weapon." Her tone was a cocktail of venom and confusion. He had agreed to tutor her in the ways of modern society - and hiding any potential bludgeoning tool was a grave offense. Darth Metus huffed. "HoloNet, dear. HoloNet. And that's my point it's not a weapon. You're supposed to be gentle with it."
Crisis averted, for the moment. "Yes, I recall..." John said, steering the conversation once more.
"I've no intention of putting up with pompous bullchit for the rest of my life. I'd rather date a Jedi." The Exarch's face was immediately taken aback, for the object of his desire was a fiery-haired Jedi lass. The Sith chuckled, motioning towards the board. "No offense, of course."
"Uh. Huh." the retort was mirthless and coupled with the Knight crashing through his pawns. It was a clean kill, nothing in range to counter. Petty personified.
"I'm serious! I love what I do, but I don't intend on spending eternity behind a desk. One of these days I'll retire and kick my feet up."
"That sounds as appealing as dating a Jedi."
"Don't knock it till you've tried it."
Though answered in that same light-hearted tone that he had come to be familiar with, John was left...wanting. The path that he was one was home. Yet, on paper? He loved a Jedi. He had family pledged to the Light. He wasn't a bad man by any stretch of the imagination. Damn good at business? Absolutely. But there were morals there. Yet, his boss was a Sith Lord. Yet, his boss wasn't a Sith Lord. It didn't add up.
"I guess what I'm really asking is...why are you a Sith?"
Darth Metus' arms folded upon his chest momentarily. His expression was thoughtful, mostly due to debating on which of his plans he needed to execute on the board next. After a moment of pondering, he looked up. "That's a little personal, don't you think?"
"You told me to, and I quote, suck Gianna's toes. We're past personal, aren't we?" Check and Mate.
"Alright alright, you got me there." he said. His rook then sang across the board, ripping through an exposed pawn. His bishop now had a clear route..
"Firstly, do you know what Jedi and Sith are?"
John's expression said "duh", but that wasn't satisfactory for the Vicelord. After the move, he refolded his arms before his chest. "Most say Jedi are Light, Sith are Dark. Jedi are Good, Sith are Bad. But, historically, that perception is a crock of bull."
"If you were to lose Gianna tomorrow, you'd be sad right? If she were hurt, you'd be mad. If she said yes, you'd be overjoyed. Are those all accurate statements?"
"Of course they are." he answered, biting back a but what does that have to do...
"If you were a Jedi, you wouldn't. You wouldn't allow yourself to be sad. Or mad. Or overjoyed. You bury those natural parts of being Human. Why? Because Sith are the exact opposite. Sith embrace all it means to be Human, and then they do something with it. If you're sad, you do something with it. Mad? Happy? Action."
John's gaze slid to Darth Elyria, whose offhand rose as the Vicelord spoke. Her hand shook to side to side, denoting more or less. He took the chance to move - his Knight slid into place, blocking the path of the bishop. Darth Metus had to focus to keep his expression even. "In my case...I was angry. And I was sad. You know I was a card carrying Mandalorian most of my life. But, one day, the King decided to kick everyone who was force sensitive out. Including those who bled their whole lives for Mandalore."
"Lucky for me, I had built my home and raised my kids out here. And that's where I went after we got the boot. I took that pain and I did something with it. Here we are."
"But.
"But?"
"You're...decent. You don't order the army to genocide people. You-"
"The words you're looking for are 'you're not Sith-Imperial.' I was raised Mandalorian. A good chunk of my life was spent seeing what our angsty Sith neighbors did to get their way, and fighting against them. Not a huge fan of that methodology."
"But having fought against them, you ended up becoming one?"
The Vicelord shrugged his shoulders. "My conversion was made under duress - which is a story for another time. Took the lessons, as I figured they could be useful for back home. They were in the long run. Following getting das boot...it was all I had left."
John wagged a finger, jokingly. "Come now, there's always the Light."
"The Jedi Code prohibits sucking on toes."
The two shared a hearty laugh. Elyria, on the other hand, rolled her eyes. The details of her mate's ideals were interesting, but her time was better spent doing more. Such as plotting revenge against the oven and it's damn clock. "Are you finished? I'd like to go." Blunt, as always. But, at least this time there was no threat of spine removal.
"Almost. Just got one more move." he answered, before returning his gaze to the Exarch. "To put it simply, the Dark suits me. You can be a Sith, and not be an nerf herder."
"You can be a Jedi, and be an nerf herder."
His hand moved the bishop along the path, capturing the Knight. From that position, it would be easy for John to take it...but for every capture, the next move would result in one outcome.
"Check mate."
