Location: Bridge, UES
Requiem
Zlova's smile grew slightly at Tiber suggesting he might be inclined to some... experimentation. Unlike some, however, the man didn't make any moves -- large or small -- to suggest she'd gotten under his skin (or his clothes). How interesting. The seductress hadn't used her body to infiltrate an organization in some time now, but Zlova hoped she hadn't lost her touch -- or her sex appeal. Perhaps the man was just that disciplined.
Hm, yes, speaking of unpleasantness. The two of them were forced to turn their attention in the direction of a certain
Captain that wanted to make sure his guests knew the proper form of address. Tiber was quick with the remark, while the Twi'lek simply stared at Vemric for a moment. While she might need to look up slightly at the man to see his eyes, the Lethan wasn't the least bit intimidated by his physique. Nor cowed by his remarks.
Sir was entirely out of the question. A Sith Emperor would be hard pressed to get her to call them 'Sir.' Kneeling or bowing before someone of power was customary to show you didn't mean to tear their heart out of their chest and shove it back down their throat. Subservience, however, would not do. Even if an Emperor believed their subjects suitably 'controlled.' And as for Vemric, he certainly wasn't Zlova's ruler.
As for Governor... Zlova wouldn't even waste a spark of neural activity to humor that title on a battlefield.
Now, Grand Admiral she could live with. The man did understand he was the Captain of the Ship though, didn't he? Well, a man that ascended to such lofty heights didn't want their achievement to go unremarked. Zlova could appreciate that, so now that she knew what form of address the man desired... Zlova didn't really care if people liked her, but she had no desire to insult everyone she met. Unless she was in a mood.
Tiber's quip might earn another reply before Vemric turned back to getting in his armor and dealing with matters of real importance. Zlova held her peace, however, though her golden eyes did shine with promise if the man found her quiet displeasing. After all, especially seeing how the Grand Admiral Governor Sir was not yet in his armor, she could kill everyone on that bridge before the guards in the hallway finished scratching their balls.
Thankfully they all got back to what they were good at -- Vemric with his naval management, and the Dark Side users discussing murder and mayhem. On which, the Twi'lek shrugged and resumed smiling once more.
"If the intent was to create a perfect galaxy, you'd be right. You can always count on someone to screw that up, however, so it's a race to the bottom. The Jedi think they have all the answers, and the Sith enjoy building their strength. Both options are worthless to me. Conflict does allow for rapid growth, but burning everything to the ground is just a waste."
Oh, those monikers. Blood God. Immortal Ruler of the Known Universe. The Absolute. Some of the more palatable ones were those akin to 'The Red Death' or 'The Vanquisher' -- titles that implied a healthy campaign of victories without presuming no one would ever topple them. No one was immortal. Zlova, herself, expected to die (in battle) eventually. There was no shame in that as long as a warrior gave their all.
The red woman leaned in closer to keep her voice down,
"You say the sweetest things." Disciplined and perceptive? Not too many of those around in the Enclave; mostly because so few of them could use the Force. Pleasing to hear someone recognized her 'rank' as a Darth.
"Mm," Zlova reached up to stroke the breatbone region of Tiber with the tip of one finger,
"we would have to see about that." Master? Oh, no, she fully expected him to call her Mistress under those circumstances.
Then Tiber said the strangest thing. If he had to be remembered it would be as the 'Dark Master.' Not the sort of title, moniker, or name she would have expected. It was just too direct. Not even a humble flare to it.
"Well," Zlova smiled as she straightened up,
"I'd have to get to know you before offering any suggestions. Unless you're pledging yourself to me as an Acolyte, in which case I'll pick whatever I want." A small joke since she doubted Tiber had come on that ship expecting to bow before anyone.
She stepped in to close the distance between them as her voice lowered so it was just between the two of them.
"I won't bore you with the monikers, Tiber, but you were right earlier. I am Darth Siron. And I don't much care for the shape of Jedi-Sith-Galactic relations at the moment. The Mandalorians enjoy all the combat a woman could want without the constant backstabbing and undermining of every Acolyte and Lord trying to kiss an Emperor's foot or get some nameless deity's personal blessing. Once all of this," a flick of the wrist to gesture out over the bridge and the void beyond,
"is over, perhaps we can talk at length about such things." Though she wasn't against discussing some matters now to pass the time.
Near: Vemric Keldra |
Tiber
Far:
Verin Oldo
|
Balt Vizsla |
Tae'l Vizsla
|
Venari Krayt
|
Minerva Fhirdiad
Wherever You Are: Enclave & Imperials in Space