Private Daughter of the Seven Moons

[Mauve du Vain]

No night sky in the entire galaxy could hold a candle to Hapes, amid the swirling aurora mists of the nebulae watched the seven bright moons of the planet. The soft lunar glow lit up the ground, a natural permeating illumination as nothing Mauve had ever seen before, so used to the industrial neon and harsh glare of Nar Shaddaa.

She strode from her landing pad and stopped a moment, admiring the scenic vista stretching off into the distance. Hapes was a world of oceans and forests, cared for by those who admired beauty for the sake of beauty. The valley stretching out before her and the way the moons cast light through the trees, made Mauve wonder why she had never come here before. She felt an immediate kinship with the Hapans, for she too was a lover of beauty. That was why she had come, after all. Officially, at least.

Yes, officially, she was here to meet with an artist in Ta'a Chume'Dan, a sculptor of marble and stone. Highly sought after. Oh, you could make a machine-crafted piece that was perfect in every way and sell it well enough. But the true money lay in the buzzwords: Hand-crafted. The elite would pay far more to have something genuine, something beautiful because of its flaws, not despite them. And for all their precision, machines simply did not have the same artistic vision, the spark of genius. Well, not all of them anyway.

Wearing a simple black halter top and matching pants, over which she sported a jacket - though it simply rested on her shoulders, sleeves empty, Mauve made her way quickly toward the edge of the space port, surprised at how small it seemed, compared to the behemoth sprawl of the ecumenopoli of Coruscant and Nar Shaddaa.

"Ms. du Vain?" asked a waiting figure. A man. Mauve frowned. Her contact was not a man.

"Yes?"

"I am Tach, here to escort you to the Guild House."

"Wonderful, please lead on," Mauve followed her guide for a bit, unwilling to make any but the barest of smalltalk, remarking on the weather and like, for fear of what she might reveal.

Unofficially, she was here to meet with an artist of a different sort entirely. A woman whose craft was blood and death.

Eventually, Mauve said goodbye to the man, who left her standing in front of the open alcove to the guild hall. Incredible, that they would have an entire guild devoted to sculpting. Mauve found it wonderful. She wandered inside, coming deeper into the building, until she emerged into a courtyard. Mauve's eyes narrowed and she studied the surroundings, wondering if this was some sort of trap set by the Alliance.

She was, after all, here to fund a rebellion.

Aurellia

 

[Aurellia]

The clack of heels sounded Mauve's coming as thunder on a storm, a sound that manifested a smile across Aurellia's face. Good. She just couldn't have respected the zeltron had she chosen flats. All their intel insisted she was not the type. You didn't climb to the upper ranks of a major syndicate with the meekness required for that particular style choice. Her own battle armor was thoughtfully curated for this meeting. Clingy metallic blue flecked with gold formed a dress that was more appropriate for a party than treason.

"Good evening, Miss Du Vain."

A noble woman stepped out from around the grand fountain that sat in the center of the courtyard. A woman, only covered by sheet cloth made up it's center piece. Water flowed from a voluminous mane and over hips to settle at her feet in a 3 foot deep pool. The sound of bubbling drowned natural sounds of the night.

"Isn't she exquisite?" Aurellia's gaze floated to the statues face admirably as she began to make her way around the base. One hand lovingly trailed the marble. "Queen Mother Lin'ai Djo. It wasn't carved until after her reign ended, it's thought to be historically accurate."

Looking to Mauve for the first time, honey eyes trailed the woman's form.

"Though, she may pale in comparison to you. Your beauty lives up to my intelligence. I do hope our other reports are as accurate."

 

[Mauve du Vain]

Ah. So this was why they called her the Voice. She spoke with the confidence of a drawn blade, stern and bearing a razored wit. She looked a statue herself, wrought of metal, with copper eyes, bronze skin, and hair of a dark gold. Even her dress was a metallic blue. Toned muscles spoke of a warrior and her movements were that of a perilous lioness. Tall and august, she rounded on Mauve with words both fine and bold.

"Lady Revali, I presume," Mauve said, though she knew from her own dossiers that this was the self-same woman. She supposed she should curtsy, or bow, but Mauve had crawled her way from gutter to skyscraper in Nar Shaddaa and made no presumption on the ways of nobility. Much as she might envy some, raised to grace.

The Zeltron's lips, painted a deep plum, curved in a smile and she shook her head, wine dark locks swaying. "I would say so, but they are hardly historically accurate. Please, call me Mauve."

Violet eyes shone, reflecting the light of the nebulae.

With effort, she pulled those eyes away from the noble to look back to the marble statue, supposedly the primary reason for her visit. This, she admired too.

"You know, I was just thinking what a shame it is that I'd never visited Hapes before, I love everything about your planet. The moons, the city, the art," her eyes roved over the marble figure's form, "the people. Everything."

 

[Aurellia]

"It's unlike anywhere else."

The idea of leaving the cluster filled her with utter loathing. On the most recent occasion, she was required to venture to Coruscant for swearing in to the Senate. Though vast, it left her wanting for what was required for a galactic seat. Aurellia took note of the woman's informality - but accepted it. From what they had gathered, she was in a position that mimicked lordship as closely as one could amidst the filth of Nar Shaddaa.

"It is for that very reason I seek to defend it."

The words were given without worry. Her loyalist had kept up bi-weekly sweeps for bugs, though had found none that gave them the reason. Aurellia was certain if the Galactic Alliance had knowledge of their cause, there would already be an armada in their atmosphere - but the moons still shone free of obstruction. Only once had a member world attempted to succeed. Byss, some three decades ago. The core worlds of old had made swift work of the Imperial separatists - and sent a message with it. You stand with us, or against.

"I do hope your stay is longer than our meeting. There's so much more to see.... to experience."

 

[Mauve du Vain]

"Oh?" Mauve's eyes wandered the rest of the courtyard, searching for holocameras by way of habit, "I think I'd like that."

No cameras that she could spy, but then there shouldn't have been. She stepped toward the fountain and ran her fingers through the stream, feeling the coldness of the mountain water against her skin. The Zeltron thought of activating the sound dampener hidden within her wrist bangle, but the babbling of the fountain drowned out most noise. A wise place for a meeting. Mauve looked around to the noblewoman, an apologetic smile on those dark velvet lips for doubting the locale.

"The fountain? An elegant solution to unwanted listeners. Can never be too careful."

The Zeltron leaned back, resting her palms on the lip of the pool behind her.

"So..." down to business, such as the Syndicate did it, "You seek to defend Hapes. How? I love investing in the latest fashions," violet eyes looked the bronzed warrior up and down, "especially when they're achingly gorgeous, but I have no inclination to throw money into a lost cause."

Even if such causes often proved hopelessly romantic. Mauve did love a good tragedy. Alas, she loved credits just a bit more. And her penthouse on New Vertica. And her wines. And her dresses. And her art. A shame to throw it all away just for a face with a cause, no matter how noble the cause, or how pretty the face.

Her whispers had told her of some inklings of the Hapan court, some rumblings. But she needed to hear the Aurellia say it.

High treason.

Aurellia

 

[Aurellia]

Aurellia drew her shoulders back, posture poised with pride and a touch of flourish , noticing Mauve's gaze. The movement of a woman ever aware of the angles that served her best. Any advantage, however small, she would not ignore - such was the art of survival among court. The phrase lost cause stirred something in her, lit a slow-burning fire beneath her every step as she begun a slow pace. It was the same notions several of the great houses still carried. They'd faced so much tribulation already. The mad Queen had terrorized their population at large. The pirate fleet made of men had done their own damage, with the gall to demand rights. In the end they had claimed them.

"The ordinances ruled by the Alliance stand to destroy our culture. The idea of a parliament is ridiculous in and of itself - the populace at large could never understand what qualified a ruler. Worse still, the idea men would ever be equal to us."

Contempt colored her words. The lamer sex were brutes, best suited to perishing nobly in defense of their nation. Femineity was a delicate duality they could never comprehend, only admire. On one hand, the power to love utterly, to nurture, to breathe life into silence and mend whole worlds with little more than a glance and grace. On the other, the sharpness of wit, the ruthlessness of reason, the very thing that kept bloodlines strong and empires thriving. Aurellia hoped it was a sentiment Mauve might share - especially when women were so dreadfully underestimated in the wider galaxy.

"It is my intent to declare the Consortium a free nation." Satisfied with whatever gleamed from stone, her focus returned to Mauve. An insolent smile played at her lips, like she had admitted to a sin rather than an endeavor that could bring ruin to her world. "Of course, I am not alone. Most of the houses are behind me, the navy with it. We will dispose of the woman who sold her morals for a crown - I will take it up instead. The Galactic Alliance will want to rip it from my head. Let them come."