Private Déjà Vu

[Damsy Callat]

A N T I C I P A T I O N​

Location: L'enfer station, Illyrian space​

Wearing: ~ x ~​

Tag: Adron Malvern​

"This is Damsy Callat Vi'dreya, Akaa'kalyr of the House Verd Ma'ramikad. To whomever this may reach first if not the Vicelord - Alor Verd, my father - pause this recording and pass it into him with no delay."​

​

Damsy stepped from the cargo hold of the transport that had brought her to L'enfer down its boarding ramp to the station floor below, but not before bestowing upon the pilot who had come from the cockpit to see her off the largest tip he had probably received in a while. Since Dressel, newfound honour had been burning quite the sizable hole in her pocket. She meandered her way through the bustling hangar bay crowd, taking extra time to appreciate the station's construction. It was all fairly new, as she understood.​

​

"Now that I have your attention, Father, I will get to the point. I cannot be Warmaster any longer, nor can I stay in Confederate space."​

​

She also understood, or rather remembered, that the planet situated below fell under the rule of King Malvern, exarch no longer, or so had said the missive sent from Luna Terrik to ex-Dauntless Adjunct-Major Callat. Damsy supposed in that way the unlikely two now had something in common - though it was doubtful the nullification of his title happened just as hers had.​

​

"The reason is...selfish, I will admit."​

​

She finally through a short line to an Illyrian customs agent. A pleasant smile and a handful of (mostly) helpful answers expended, the sithspawn likewise passed the inquisition with her rucksack of curiosities such as a chipped electrotrident and a set of beskar'gam. Into the central concourse she walked, not particularly bothered as the realization that Luna's instructions had been incomplete dawned on her.​

​

Ah, well. She could figure it out with all her tactical know-how. And perhaps aid of the Force if Syreni was feeling particularly domesticated today. ​

​

"We have our personal issues, so that'll be that, but I wanted you to know this time around. I realized the universe has been giving me a chance to redo Rodia, specifically how I handled the aftermath. So, this is how it’s going down: . . ."​

​

Damsy found an empty bench on which to rest, an oasis among the Tatooine Dune Sea just like the Upasi Homestead, one of the many would-be homes left in her uncommittable wake. She propped her things up against its legs on the floor, but then knelt before them. She rummaged around in the pack until she produced a worn durasteel container.​

​

". . . I’m treating you better, and treating my soldiers better, but still being true to myself in walking away."​

​

Only when she sat on the bench did she open it.​

​

Pazaak cards.​

​

"I won’t expect you to respect my decision, but acknowledge my resignation, which is effective immediately."​

​

She slid the box closed again, sniffed, and looked away.​

​

Oh, Jorgen. She still missed you and the rest.​

​

"If we meet again, I don’t know what I’ll have made of myself, but I do know it needs to be something more."​

​

But there was more.​

​

 

[Adron Malvern]

A U D I E N C E​

Tags: Damsy Callat ​

"Damsy Callat."

The name was disruptive and spoke with a harsh tone. Clad in a black cloak flowing over jet black armor, Sir Allard called out to the woman with his usual curt and militant demeanor. To either side of the man were two Armored Knights who stood silently behind them, their amethyst sashes displaying their allegiance to the crown of Illyria.

"Ma'am you must come with us immediately to Dragonne Palace. The King has summoned you." He said, before gesturing down the length of the hall before him. "Your ship will be fueled and detailed in our absence and shipped to the Royal Palace." He promised before allowing the woman to join him. Once Damsy rose to join the Knight he would lead the way down the hall, the other two knights trailing behind the two as they moved deeper into L'enfer. None of the customs officials or security personnel dared to halt the progress of the Royal Guard.

The guard brought the woman to a private hangar with a small, luxurious shuttle prepared for departure. The two members of the guard halted at the door, however Sir Allard kept a steady pace up the loading ramp. The loading ramp led into a passenger bay where the Knight gestured to one of the many seats within. "Please, take a seat." He strode to the door to the cockpit before tapping his knuckles over the metal door. ​

 

[Damsy Callat]

D R E A D​

Tag: Adron Malvern​

Perhaps the summons hadn't been as open-ended as she had thought after all.

Damsy's head snapped to the direction of Sir Allard's hail. What in Panthalassa...? she thought. Though she bit her tongue as he relayed his message, but allowed her eyes to dart across his entourage. Though it had been a small squad of Knights Obsidian that had retrieved her on orders of Malvern before, the tinges of purple on today's Illyrian guards were enough to remind her of that fateful day in Netra'yaim.

Indeed, when all was silent, she rose, pushing off her knees and then tossing the card deck back among her things. "Uh, the ship that brought me ain't mine, but I'm sure Alek'd appreciate it 'fore getting on his way, if it's all the same to you." She threw the pack flap down over it's top before slinging one strap over her back. The physical weight was no object, but something she hadn't sat down with consolidated like lead in her shoulders. Something else fluttered like flying fish in her stomach.

She followed obediently all the way into the shuttle and into a randomly-selected seat. Then she propped her rucksack up against her legs again.

She looked up at the knight when - if - he returned to the main cabin, but wouldn't speak until spoken to.
​

 

[Adron Malvern]

L O R D​

Tags: Damsy Callat ​

The shuttle ride to the palace was a quiet one. When Sir Allard did return to the cabin he found his seat across from Damsy and sat there silently for the remainder of the shuttle trip. The shuttle came down in the city of Azurine, flowing past the tallest buildings with a rehearsed ease. When it finally did come to settle down on the planet's surface Damsy would look out the window to see the beauty of Dragonne Palace. It was a grand structure that soared to heights that could easily dwarf the rest of the city.

As the rear loading ramp lowered onto the planet's surface, Damsy would be met by a fair skinned man with flowing silver hair. As she rose to disembark he would bow low at the waist, his gloved hands clasped firmly at the small of his back. "Lady Callat." He greeted her warmly with a tone that suggested a servant, however his clothing was made of fine silks of white and gold. "I am Magnate Jean de'Luo, Keeper of His Majesty's affairs and Chamberlain of Dragonne Palace. Welcome to Illyria my dear, I am sure you are weary from your travels. I am afraid you must wait to rest, his Majesty insists upon seeing you in the library immediately. Please come with me." The man turned on his heel, leading Damsy towards the interior of the palace. As they passed through the threshold, the Chamberlain spoke simply. "A room in the guest wing is being prepared for your stay as well as a magnificent meal. After his Majesty has finished speaking with you, we can direct you to the sauna or perhaps a nice hot bath to help you relax?" He suggested, holding a single finger up as if to accentuate his point. "We are host to a number of pleasures for you to enjoy, you need only breathe life to your desires and I shall see them fulfilled."

The man's pace slowed as he approached a large wooden door at the end of this particular hall. Standing before the door was a single armored knight with his hand wrapped around the hilt of his vibrosword. Without prompt the Guardsmen stepped to the side for Damsy to pass. Jean did not budge, instead only offered the girl a slight smile. "Here we are. Do take care, Lady Callat." He said with a bow of his head.

When Damsy approached the door she would feel the stirring of the Force before her. It was a chilling coldness that fell over her shoulders, wrapping itself around her and calling her within.

Once inside she would step into a large chamber filled with books and tomes of all kind. The center of the room was an open space, where the King could be found. He was suspended several feet over the ground with glowing eyes of amethyst. They gazed out straight ahead as if he was lost in the dreams of a trance. Several books floated around him slowly, their pages open and flipping slowly as they revolved around him. As he spoke his voice was not the one she would remember. It was deep and seemed to speak from within her own mind as a whisper, as well as a deep, mystical baritone in the world before her.

"You are the Vicelord's daughter and yet I am informed that you have decided to leave The Confederacy behind..." As the light in his eyes faded his voice slowly returned to normal. The Sith Lord's eyes gazed down at Damsy before he called on the Force to bring him down only a few steps before the young woman. "Why?" He demanded. ​

 

[Damsy Callat]

D R E A D​

Location: Dragonne Palace, Azurine City, Illyria​

Tag: Adron Malvern​

"Right..."

Damsy barely got the word in edgewise as the chamberlain spoke about being at her beck and call. It wasn't that she doubted his words, but that she doubted she would take him up on them. For, Bet there ain't a thing in the entire damn kingdom that could help me relax, guy, neither for the stress of Syreni nor now Adron. Plus, just the idea of being attended to reminded her of being an aquatic guinea pig on Kamino. Never again. No thanks. A tinge of hate for her father and his reckless ambition that had sculpted such a physically painful existence, then and even still now, surfaced in her mind's sea.

She didn't have time to drag it back under the surface before she was left at the library doors. Whatever gripped her sent the relatively calm waves into choppy turmoil that instead of drowning Syreni allowed her to rise. Emotion crashed like water hard against her temple, which caused an intense pain coast rocks would surely experience too if only they could feel. Damsy hissed in through her lips as she pushed into the beckoning room.

Magnitudes of Darkness met her and she had no time to think anything cohesive before stumbling back into the door falling closed behind her, less concerned with the unexpected realization of Adron's second brand of lordship than her own momentary wellbeing. If meeting Ala Quin and Aida Aquila had made made her sick in the process of staving off Syreni, then this here was the inverse perfect in all ways but one:

The alter was finding power in the very thing Damsy shirked from.

Syreni recallsssss that one...

Not consciously, but un. She had always swam Damsy's mind even if she hadn't done so independently of the latter herself.

"...no." All she could manage was a whisper as the king took to his approach. "P-please stop. I-I can't..." She paused to swallow hard. Her eyes were searching the floorboards to his right, gears turning in her head, grasping for clarity. A moment on, she found it in a sand grain of determination - enough to turn into a shining pearl. Yes. That's right. He had asked a question. Perhaps she had never been in a worse way throughout her many tenues, but they had taught her obedience above all else. She dragged her ocean gaze to Adron's.

"This.

"Is why."
​

 

[Adron Malvern]

DEJA VU​

Tags: Damsy Callat ​

There it was.

The Illyrian King's gaze had always been harsh yet now there was something more behind it. It was analytical, piercing into the very center of the girl's being. He could see with the eyes of the Force that there was something within her, something that had not been there before.

There. His approach was halted as he was given a perfect picture of what laid beneath the surface. "Now I see it." His hand came up to where a single finger rested on the side of her head, pressing into her temple. He was silent for a moment and suddenly Damsy would realize her body was frozen, unresponsive to her motions or movements it would feel as if duracrete had been poured into every vein and muscle that she had. The King said nothing for a time as his amethyst eyes began to shine vibrantly.

"Where did you come from?" He whispered, speaking of what laid behind the wall of Damsy's being. His hand moved down, hovering over Damsy's neck as she could feel the Dark Side of the Force wrap itself around her like a blanket of freezing ice. Adron's hand curled into a fist and slowly a pitch-black, sandy substance seemed to flow out of Damsy's body. For her, it would feel as if something was being ripped from her very presence in the Force.

Adron pulled his arm back in a single motion, growling softly and in response the black sands exploded from Damsy. Her body would feel relief and control would flood back to her while the black mist exploded out into the library. A thin trail of the black sands still flowed from Damsy's chest, showing the tether of life that was yet bound. However, in a mist of sand this creature wildly swam around the library, letting out a viscous screech. Adron turned his eyes to the apparition with a mild interest. "I see you keep pleasant company." He said, before his hand outstretched to the form. The Force locked the creature in place, causing it to let out a terrifying shriek before it seemed to fall silent, it's ethereal head hanging low as if set to sleep.

"I sense a hunger from this beast. A need to feed unlike any other I have seen before." He turned back to Damsy with a loft of his brow. "You have felt it, haven't you? Bleeding into your very being."​

 

[Damsy Callat]

A G O N Y​

Tag: Adron Malvern​

Loss of control had long ago ceased to panic her, so neither did she now. She simply looked back at the King with equal curiosity, but hers intertwined with dauntless. Her body endured the rippling cold send through her, somehow reminiscent of a stray current deep in Kamino's abyssal sea. The incoming comfort of bygone childhood, emotionally warm even in the physical dark, pacified her while repelling Syreni. She took like a dolphin needing suddenly, desperately, to breathe air rushing to breech to the path out Adron was offering.​

​

When the grainy Darkness escaped her body, relief smooth and warm flooded into each internal fibre it had let from. She breathed the beginnings of a sigh of relief as her head and torso lulled forward, battered already. Her legs stepped to follow behind, but they instead crumpled underneath her. Fire sparked in her feet and burned up her spinal-columns-made-legbones. Her hair cascaded in front of her downturned face as she bit her lip and trapped the walking pains inside her throat. She hadn't experienced these in a long, long time - since her changing on Atrisia at least. Still, she managed to swallow the magma looking to erupt as a pained scream, brush her hair from her face and hold it to the top of her head, and look up to Adron as he addressed her.​

​

A curt nod, as efforted as she could muster. "I used to be...like that," she replied between alternatively clenching her teeth. He had obviously known at least the bear minimum about her when he had discharged her from the military, but she wasn't sure what all that had entailed, nor if he had had more background ever. Maybe Metus had spoken about her once or twice, though Damsy wouldn't be surprised if he had never. Her father didn't strike her as a particularly sentimental, not to mention prideful of anyone but himself or anything he had not accomplished alone, man. Surely the sithspawn's temper tantrum had brought her into Adron's spotlight for the first time. So, she summarized her biology as quickly as she could: "In the Kaminoan ocean, away from people. Call it, I dunno, shifter instinct. I've suppressed it for so long."​

​

She hadn't been in the position to hunt for years on end now. She the humanoid had gotten used to land food - that much was old news - even developing a taste for it. But maybe in a physical sense, she the squaloid had never stopped yearning. Maybe that denying of nature which Damsy had learned from Kaminoans like Naroh Se so that she might be docile like them whenever she sprouted legs had finally built to a breaking point. ​

​

Years of the Confederacy in which those in her pod inevitably betrayed her. Not all, but enough. Father, A'Runda, Naroh Se, Gerwald, Luna, Typhan. Her memories collectively boasted an ocean pressure all their own that she had never known. In the same way she had gotten accustom to swimming the Panthalassa, she had gotten used to operating in the Confederacy. The difference lay in the morphology: if the former was a wide sea; then the latter was a deep trench. She had twice cut short her perilous decent in favor of turning back to breach the waves above - first, when she had learned about her abandonment, and second, when she had gone AWOL following Rodia. But the third time she had dove, saddled with a Mandalorian title, the imaginary light of glory and glee lured her past her limit.​

​

Perhaps if Damsy had been allowed to continue unchecked into the liquidy twilight, she would have never resurfaced. Perhaps Dagobah was the best accident that could have happened to her. Perhaps Syreni had not been formed by him, but had been waiting to be unbridled by Bor Kordol. ​

​

That would make Syreni her saving grace.​

​

May the oceans be kind to Damsy Callat.​

​