Chiaroscuro

[Er'in Tenel]

The Hapes Cluster is a long way from anywhere, despite it's position along the Inner Rim and it's access to valuable trade routes. The current powers that be in the galaxy are fighting to the galactic west, with only the Sith Empire and the newly reborn Mandalorian Empire to even consider threatening Consortium space. So the Consortium goes about it's business, isolated from the politics of the galaxy.

The spires of Hapes stretch high into the sky, each building a work of art and beauty designed to compliment the planets overall appearance - the ugly, the poor and the downtrodden pushed into the canyons below, leaving glittering white marble and perfect black basalt to reflect the lights of the thousands of stars that glitter down through a night which is as well lit as the day.

Light is something eternal on Hapes.

But here, the light casts shadows that hide an ugly world.

Tonight's grand gala was in honour of some minor Admiral's defeat of a pirate raiding force made up of disenfranchised men who were tired of their place as second class citizens. A hundred or more of the minor Royalty of Hapes, all clustered into a mirror-polished ballroom with a domed ceiling to let the endless light bathe the elegant fabrics, stark uniforms and gilded armour of the ever present life-protectors.

Honestly, Er'in couldn't even remember the Admiral's name. All she could really concentrate on was that she had been due to enter into one of the solar gala races today, but this little police action against people who should have known better had cost her one day of genuine freedom for another evening of politics. Her heels tapped gently against the polished metal floor even as her daring split-fronted silver and blue gown swirled around her like an extension of her body, her face projecting endless smiles that didn't ever reach her eyes as she worked her way slowly through the selection of drinks.

Rumour had it the pirates had been backed by sources from outside the cluster - advanced arms and armour. People speculated about everything from the First Order to the Sith Empire. But Er'in considered both factions to be unlikely choices at best.

Distancing herself from another trivial conversation, she found a quiet spot by the edge of the dome, looking out over the vast city as she allowed her mind to work through the complexities. A move on Hapes was, in the end, inevitable - the space around the cluster, even the cluster itself had been occupied before. But none of the neighbouring stellar powers were close enough to exert true influence, and the Consortium was hardly defenceless.

She sighed, letting her gaze trace over the dark haired aristocratic beauty who stared soulfully back at her from her own reflection. The dress worked, she had to admit - she'd have to thank her stylist for that, and for the work on her hair.

It had to be a more distant faction, looking to unsettle matters. The Galactic Alliance seemed unlikely. One of the rim factions? The Sith would have little interest in somewhere with so few resources they wanted or needed, although predictability was not their strong point. No. Someone like the CIS, looking to stir the pot just a little. Yes, yes, they had a tedious motto of keeping people free. But no one was ever truly free.

The figure in the glass sighed as she sipped at her drink. Particularly not anyone on Hapes. From the poorest slave to the Queen Mother, everyone played their role to perfection.

Including her.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

What were the chances?

In most circumstances, the Vicelord of the Confederacy would not have been privvy to the gala unfolding on Hapes. He and his worlds were simply too far away for any whispers of such an event to reach. However. Fortune would have it that a single reality kept Darth Metus informed. For, prior to the rise of the Mandalorian Empire, there was a gathering of Mandalorians that he followed. The Mando'ade. Although reeling from the collapse of their homeworld, they managed to build Colonies across the stars.

And by the skin of their teeth were they permitted to erect one on Hapes herself.

Of course, with the Mandalorian civil war and the rise of the Empire, the Colony was now dormant. Deserted. Yet, the contacts made during its initial construction remained. Every now and again, the Sith would check in with the lower, Hapan noble who helped turn the dream into a reality. And their latest conversation gave Darth Metus pause. At face value, the defeat of a pirate force was not anything for him to be concerned about. However. The fact that they were armed beyond their means made the Sith think.

He had only just authorized his kinsman, Aedan, to privateer abroad.

He hoped that he was not preying upon the Hapans.

And if that was the case, then he had to clean up the mess. Quietly. Armed with this news, the Vicelord publicly did nothing. By all accounts, he was still situated in his penthouse on Golbah City, most likely strengthening the relations between the Confederacy and her newfound allies. However. Unofficially Darth Metus had arrived on Hapes. He and the freshly-formed Dark Acolytes descended upon the world in silence with infiltration as their primary motive. A number of their midst diverged, heading to more militant installations for direct records of the incident.

Whilst Darth Metus and a trusted few entered the Gala.

This evening, the Sith appeared as nothing. A simple incantation tricked the minds of those who bore witness to his coming - they did not see a dashing man of chocolate complexion, but rather what they wanted to see. Some saw simply an attendant. Others saw low nobilities. Whichever the case, they did not see Darth Metus for who he was. For some time, he navigated about the polished floors, attempting to overhear what details he could whilst his agents worked.

But, in time, he found himself on a balcony with no other company than [member="Er'in Tenel"]. She, like so many others, would see what she wanted to see.

Only.

The edges of his person would be whispy. Wavering. As if a mirage in the distance. The power slumbering in her veins would afford her this much insight that something about this man was ary. Nonetheless, Darth Metus proceeded as if his magick were infallible and greeted the woman with a light smile.

"Good evening." he began. "Enjoying the festivities?"

 

[Er'in Tenel]

The silver light of the thousand stars seemed to waver slightly as Er'in turned to face the man, a faint frown on her face for the briefest of moments. Not only was a man addressing her, but there was something... the shake of her head was almost imperceptable, the flicker of hair crossing her face marring her expression only for a moment. Clearly she was either more tired or more drunk than she thought.

The smile was entirely false - there wasn't even any pretense to the falsehood, after all he was only a man and no one else at this party had been honest - or done an honest days work - for a day in their lives. But they had been trained from birth to avoid assassins and a quick - if entirely inaccurate, given the circumstances - glance assured her that this man posed no threat to her.

"It would be indecorous of me to admit otherwise." Which was about the closest she might come to swearing and pitching a fit at the pointlessness of it all. "So yes, I am. I must confess, you have me at a disadvantage, lord..?"

Whomever she saw, it was evidently someone of rank. But who else would address a princess of the blood, no matter how minor a relation?

 

[Malok]

False Smiles.

It seemed as though the Sith and the Hapan shared a similar pleasantry. While, for Darth Metus, the act was to keep up a flawed ruse, the Hapan might have presented hers for reasons of court or something. Yet, that didn't matter to him in the slightest. What did matter were a set of very unique circumstances. One, the mission at hand. Two, they just so happened to be alone. Here, the quiet of the balcony was a divine contrast to the pleasantries occurring just inside.

Darth Metus saw an opportunity.

"Bartholomew Akorne." he came his response - a smooth, practiced lie that had rippled off the tongue all evening. Yet...there was a weight to this deception. A crushing weight that would make itself very apparent to the Hapan as soon as the final syllable slithered past his lips. For, although it appeared as though they were the only beings physically present, there was another. There was always another. The Force.

And by the whim of the Sith did it begin to weigh heavily upon the woman's mind. His collosal will worked against her psyche, attempting to lower her guard and inhibitions. Attempting to make her much more agreeable to a line of questioning. And, if he had succeeded, a truthful answer would be given to the followup inquiry.

"And who might you be?

[member="Er'in Tenel"]

 

[Er'in Tenel]

The faintest of frown lines creased Er'in perfect forehead, almost as if she had a headache. There was no concious awareness of the psychic effort, but something about the weight, the pressure made her unconciously angry with the man.

And Er'in, beneath all the smiles, is a very, very angry woman. The psychic upwelling from her subconcious as her concious will and falsehood was sharp and firey, like a stiletto of rage that snapped back - untrained and weak, but present none the less.

She didn't even notice the shift in her posture, the slightly more passionate tone in her voice - the smile that came was easy, much more natural and much more attractive. She didn't notice the faint tone of anger edging her voice for the first word - the almost furious disgust, or if she did, she attributed it to her dislike of her exalted title, rather than the odd sensation that had run through her and the momentary sense of red behind her eyes.

"Pelin’a Er'in Tenel of Hapes." She replied with absolute truth. "How may I help you, Mr Akorne?" The notable lack of the standard 'pleased to meet you' was oddly, a sure sign the Sith Lord's will had worked. She wasn't pleased to meet him, and more agreeable to speaking didn't mean she wanted to bother with pointless pleasantries.

 

[Malok]

This was...different.

For quite some time this evening, the Sith Lord had minimal difficulty getting the information that he needed. And this case was not any different in that regard. The truthful answer on the part of the Hapan was a clear sign that his tactic, yet again, had worked. However. Not once had any other "victim" responded as she.

Firstly, there was fire.

An inferno which bubbled underneath her psyche in response to his presence. It was almost as if he had triggered a reflex that she was not aware she possessed. Furthermore, that fire manifested physically. Her body language. Her tone. All were colored with venom as the truth formed and fell from her lips.

Perhaps...she was more than met the eye. Her presence was...meek to say the very least. If she was sensitive - or trained for that matter - she was doing a damn fine job of hiding it. However, the fact remained that her response led the Sith to wonder.

No matter.

"This gala was thrown to celebrate the defeat of pirates. Was the name Miles ever brought up? Was Blood Fleet ever mentioned?" His line of questioning was blunt and deliberate, for again he sought the truth. Yet, as he had the woman where he wanted her, the Sith posed an additional inquiry.

"And tell me, Pelin'a Er'in Tenel of Hapes, what do you know of the Force?"

[member="Er'in Tenel"]

 

[Er'in Tenel]

"And tell me, Pelin'a Er'in Tenel of Hapes, what do you know of the Force?"​

​

She blinked, the final sentance coming as if it were in a dream. Deep inside, a very old sense of danger - one that had kept her alive as a Princess of Hapes - was warning her that something was wrong. Or right, actually, it wasn't really sure anymore.

"Miles? No." She didn't even have to think, besides, the last question was far, far more interesting for some reason. "Blood Fleet, yes. Admiral Tu-lin mentioned that some of the ships were reported to bear insignia like that. But they never caught any that did. Which is why everyone assumes it's the Sith."

They did blow our capital city into rubble, she doesn't point out. There are still some secrets surrounding that the anti-torture training every member of the Royal family gets causes her to auto-suppress. Although a shuddering wave of fear at the memory of the terrible training, which by it's nature, consists mostly of being tortured and fed truth drugs, wells up in her mind in its place.

But the last question is far, far more interesting - and she barely notices those images anymore, although what would trigger them now? Something she should be paying attention to, she was sure.

"The Force? It's the central object religious focus of the Jedi and the Sith, first thought to be discovered approximately 25,000 BBY. Several other minor force religions view it differently, but it is commonly divided into a 'light' and 'dark' side. Tenel Djo, may she rest in peace, was reported to be both Dathomri Witch, Tenel Ka a Jedi Knight and both were Queen Mother." She smiles and digresses briefly. "I'm matrilineally descended from both." Which, she doesn't know or point out, would explain her strength in the Force, didn't the Skywalkers breed into their line by accident? "I could go on for quite a while about the public history, but we mostly regard it as one of the sources of the galaxies suffering here on Hapes - Ka Chume and Djo Chume were not... well considered after her death, neither are my family for sharing in her line. The Ni'Korish - named after Ni'Korish Chume - seek to emulate her and hunt down and slay any Jedi or other Force user they come across and they hold a great deal of sway, particularly after the duration of the Sith Empire's occupation."

Something clicks, anger and logic fitting into line. This man wouldn't ask that question of a Princess of Hapes unless her was very much an outsider. And that question... implied... well, it was worth a shot in the dark.

"Which side do you work for? Alliance or Empire?"

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

Blood Fleet, yes.

Visible disgust washed over the Sith's face at the confirmation of his concern. He had hoped that the Pirate King would have shown enough restraint to not potentially bring trouble back to the Confederacy. However, given the rest of the noble's statement, Darth Metus was left with the impression that perhaps the natives would simply blame the Sith. As countless worlds often did. As quickly as it had appeared, the distasteful expression vanished. After all, it would not do to lower the illusion with such a...untactful display.

"I see..." he breathed, before hearkening to the woman's excessive truths. He could not blame her for the knowledge with rapidly flew from her lips - as he had compelled her to state what she knew regarding the Force. However, by the time that she finished, the Sith was left with an eyebrow raised.

And then she posed a question of her own.

Which side do you work for? Alliance or Empire?

"Please." came his response, amidst a scoff. "There's no need to insult me."

Something was...there inside this woman. She was much akin to a molten bar of steel - the burning personification of potential. To speak up whilst under his pressure...To challenge him in the midst of his illusion...He couldn't help but allow a light chuckle to escape him.

"If you must know, neither. I bow to no one." he began. At this point, there was no need in maintaining the guise - not when the information he had came for had been collected. Not when this woman burned the way she did. And thus, in but the blink of an eye did the glamour fall away. The exquisite persona of a Hapan noble evaporated, leaving Darth Metus in his wake. Against the light, sulfuric eyes bored into his skull. "I simply came to clean up a mess. One that you've helped put to bed."

He took a bold step forward.

"But you can help me further. Away from all this...waste. What enabled you to see me...what burns within you...that places you high above even your Queen-Mother. For what is a Queen to a God?"

His hand outstretched - an offer.

"I can show you. I can make you greater. All you have to do is come with me."

[member="Er'in Tenel"]

 

[Er'in Tenel]

Er'in doesn't flinch back from the burning eyes, but that's as much because she's trapped against the railing of the balcony than out of composure. Although to her credit, she does maintain a reasonable amount - her reaction is some odd mixture of fear, surprise and something that isn't quite arousal and isn't quite greed. Her breath quickens and she doesn't even seem to notice the faint tremor in her hand.

She obviously doesn't understand what she sees or senses - but her untrained potential is definitely there and active, eight or more generations descended from a line of Dathomiri Witches and Skywalker blood she may be, but it seems likely other force-sensitives bred into the line, because she's reacting to more than the physical presence of the terrifying presence in front of her.

She swallows once, then twice more to clear her dry throat before stepping forward to an intimate distance from Metus, not taking the offered hand and not quite embracing him either, but now well within both their personal boundaries. From this distance, she smells distinctly of honey and cinnamon, a scent Metus may well associate with her for some time.

"I don't want to be Queen Mother." She purrs, her tone perhaps as natural sounding as it ever has been - somewhere between seductive and furious. "And no Jedi or Sith is a God. Every one who claimed to be such has met a mortal end from what the histories say."

She pauses, then slides an arm around Metus' back. It's not exactly a lovers embrace, but neither is it entirely an act.

"But I am sick of this gilded cage and it's vapid heirs, so I am listening..."

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

Honeyed words formed and fell from her lips.

She was drawn to him. His words - his might - caused a drastic change in the woman before his gaze. Where once there was the epitome of Hapan tact now stood...something far different. Her response to his offer was neither traditional acceptance...nor was it an outright decline. By Darth Metus’ reckoning, what she did was an attempt to set the standard for what would come after. To take his hand would have meant submission. But to slither her arm along his spine...to invade his nostrils with her scent...was to offer something in return. A give and take.

For a moment, Darth Metus said nothing, allowing the Hapan a moment.

Yet his dominant hand did the speaking. His fingers, gingerly, slid down her cheek...before seizing her jaw in their grasp. He did not squeeze. He did not cause pain, nor discomfort. Yet a sulfuric gaze burned with gravity, conflicting with the honey that oozed from the Hapan. ”I make no idle promise.” he began. ”Only a God can taste the oblivion of Mandalore and claw himself back into the world of the living. Only a God can stare mortality in the face and laugh.” Every Hapan with a HoloNet connection would have heard of Mandalore’s destruction and the billions that perished.

He was one of them. And yet, he lived.

”Obey and I will share this power with you. Submit and I will show you to make it your own. Now, answer - will your evening end here, inside a gilded cage, or at the side of your Master?”

[member=”Er’in Tenel]

 

[Er'in Tenel]

”Obey and I will share this power with you. Submit and I will show you to make it your own. Now, answer - will your evening end here, inside a gilded cage, or at the side of your Master?”​

​

Er'in's instinctive desire was to spit in the mans face, then to wrench her head away and walk away from the... the... male who dared to treat her in such a fashion, let alone to speak to her that way. But she couldn't tear her gaze away from those burning eyes. It wasn't fear that held her still - truthfully she could not have said what the feeling was that kept her looking at him.

A long moment passed and she became very uncomfortably aware of the betraying sensation in her gut and in her knees. That might well be fear, it might well not be. Best to push it away and consider the offer.

Damn him. Damn him. Damn every man and damn every force user. Damn her ancestors and damn everyone else while she was at it.

She wondered if this was always how it began - and if every legendary Sith Lord who'd come to an end did so because they evoked such utter hatred in their students?

Student. Hah. Slave, more like.

Damn them all.

"With you..." The cut glass aristocratic accent sounded more like it was grinding shards. "...master."

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

”Good.”

The voice of the Sith Lord was a low rumble, like thunder in the distance. With her submission came the relaxation of his grip upon her jaw. So much so that his fingertips only gingerly touched her skin. He lingered there a moment, his gaze unwavering. ”So long as you are loyal, you will have nothing to fear of me. Nothing to loathe of me.” he began, guiding his fingertips under her chin gingerly. His point was very simple and very clear - so long as @Er'in Tenel kept her ambitions in check, she had nothing to fear of Darth Metus. He would be her greatest ally.

Only she would decide if he remained that way.

His fingertips eventually left her face and he turned, offering her his arm. ”Come, it is time we make preparations for your departure.” he began. ”We will go to your residence and acquire your necessities. Then, we head for Geonosis.”

”I’ll be relying on you to navigate these festivities of yours. Surely your people won’t bat an eye if you lead the way, no?”

[member=”Er’in Tenel”]

 

[Er'in Tenel]

No, Er'in definitely did not like these feelings, whatever they were. Being spoken down to by a man was quite bad enough, for part of her to scream at the offer she'd just accepted was worse.

No, not at all.

And as to his implicit statement... the only difference between one cage and another was what you could get within it. But was this really trading up? Well. She'd killed before, she could kill again if it took that to leave. Probably not this man, but she doubted she was about to be locked away in prison.

Beyond that however, she had standards to maintain and somehow, that life long training permitted her to act normally, regardless of how she felt.

"No, of course not. But I can have my belongings transferred to your vessel without any questions being asked. We can go straight to your vessel." She mused out loud as she carefully took her new... masters arm and guided him back into the ballroom with deft motions, navigating the crowd like she had been born to it.

And I'll need to arrange transfer of funds, accounts and the rest of my personal possessions that won't fit in his ship. She thought to herself. No sense in being dependant on him. Escrow storage through a fake company should do.

She absently pulled out her terminal with a free hand and began tapping orders. She didn't hide the commands from Metus - appears she has long had several escape plans setup in case she needed to leave Hapes, and was simply setting one in motion.

"What's on Geonosis?"

[member="Darth Metus"]