Gutter Goddess
Mercy
in that underwater lab on Tython, Arris started to wonder if she had to explain her appearance to everyone in the Covenant.What was there to say? She was a cyborg, which wasn't new. Though usually she had synthflesh and threads to cover her body from the neck down. Not anymore. Right where her neck and jaw met, the metal began, and it continued all the way down. In place of clothes, her body was cast in a flexible armor, shaped to her strong, feminine form. Her face had changed, too. The skin she wore was a bit fairer, and the shape less sharp. Then there was the dark bob, which had completely supplanted the blonde pony-tail that people had come to expect. Of all the things that hadn't changed, were her eyes. They remained the same. Cold, grey, and haunted with the certain lethality that screamed Arris Windrun.
She found herself within a palace on Empress Teta, a world now under her purview, ever since Mercy bestowed the title Princess of Empress Teta upon her - it was an insult, a tease, and a challenge. But Arris had neglected her duties to this burgeoning ecumenopolis to Coruscant's galactic southwest. There were many problems to tend to. Least of all, the fact that some (read: most of the aristocracy) were less than thrilled to find Arris Windrun on the throne.
Were she not a Triumvir of the Sith Covenant, their displeasure might've taken an active role when she finally arrived to announce herself. A great fleet of warships hovered above the heart of Cinnagar, led by Windrun's flagship, and a legion of stormtroopers marched through the square beneath the palace steps, a symbol of power and a quiet threat of retaliation to those who would oppose her.
Inside the palace, the cyborg lazed on the throne, cut from a single block of ancient stone.
She wanted none of it. Which is exactly why she took the excuse of inviting Varin Mortifer to the occasion, just so she might ask after his journey to ascension.
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