Duel Diarchy Law meets Legacy

[Diarch Rellik]

LOCATION: Paradisum – The Aureate District, Central Gardens
Inventory - Conviction - Blooded Seer Cloak - Spear

Paradisum was a world that allowed the Sith but there was one here that would not be tolerated much longer.

A crown jewel of the Diarchy's pleasure worlds, Paradisum shimmered in the midday glow. Gilded spires rose behind beautiful pavilions, their mirrored glass catching the sunlight in a thousand warm hues. Perfumed wind curled through lush public parks. Everything smelled of wine, flowers, and money. And strolling through the park was Diarch Rellik. He was looking for a Sith. Presumably simply enjoying the planets many benefits. Yet those benefits were coming to an end. The Diarchy had declared all Sith who are not authorized or members of their faction to be hunted down.

He walked alone, no RDB-Sentinel droids or Diarchy Preservers. Just a long black cloak kissed by wind, the curved hilt of Conviction at his hip, and the Spear of the Star-Fallen King slung across his back. This was his world, his mandate and he walked with inevitability.

The locals had whispered. The Network listened. A Sith who was not a local had been moving around. Scherezade deWinter was the name given on the dossier but he did not know her. It did not matter at this time. She had no clearance to be in Diarchy space.

He passed a colonnade of gilded statuary, eyes flicking over every couple, every performer, every ripple of Force presence.

"Show yourself, witch." The words merely murmured to himself under tense breath. He did not want some catastrophic event on the serene world but he was ready for a battle.

Then he stopped beneath the largest tree in the center of the park and looked around.

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

They called this a pleasure world.

Scherezade could smell the rot under the perfume.

Sunlight caught on everything, from glass, to gold, to sequins, to smiles… but it was too clean. Too curated. Reminded her of Eve, but not in the right way. The kind of place where people didn't bleed when they were stabbed; they leaked scandal. Where the grass was clipped to the same length as the lies, and the trees whispered secrets only to those rich enough to plant bugs in their leaves.

She hated it.

Not because it was beautiful. Beauty, she could handle. But because it felt like pretend.

A fat-bellied wind drifted past her, heavy with citrus and wine. Darn. She was hungry. She wasn't even trying to be subtle. Her eyes continued to glow in their green light, people got to see her face, and she was currently chewing on an unexpectedly great kabab she'd gotten at a vendor's stall.

But to the best of her knowledge, she hadn't actually drawn attention. Not the kind that mattered.

Not yet, anyway.

Beneath the biggest tree in the park (a monstrosity that looked like it had opinions about proper tea etiquette) Scherezade stopped. The shadows here were softer. Not darker. Just… more honest.

A whisper stirred in her blood. Not the Force. Not her instincts.

Something older.

She smiled.

"Not a Witch," she said aloud, to no one. Or maybe to someone who hadn't stepped into view yet.

Her green glowing eyes didn't scan. That would be giving too much away. Instead, she crouched, and then turned to sit beneath the tree, her back resting against its bark, and pulled out a snack from her jacket.

"You think I'm just another Sith," she said to the air, rolling her shoulder before taking another bite from her food. The words weren't loud. They didn't have to be. She took a bite. "You're adorable."

And she smiled like a girl who had brought glitter to a funeral.


Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Inventory - Conviction - Blooded Seer Cloak - Spear

The wind shifted again. Not the fat, citrus-laden breeze of the rich park. A current cut from something deeper. A presence in the force. Rellik did not move when the voice came directly to him through that flow of the force. He scanned with his head and eyes. Ready to cut the now classified criminal down.

Not a witch huh, perhaps the reports of green shifting eyes like a night sister were wrong. Or she is toying with me. We have had so many reports to the network with the new mandate, things might be intertwined. Either way, I must be on my toes.

His reply was silence. For now. He needed to uncover more. Hopefully pinpoint his target before things escalated with words. All he needed right now was another upset Chancellor in the forum talking about how he destroyed an entire park... or city.

Deciding to step around the park in a wide arc he looked with his eyes and the force for the one who spoke back to him. His boots moved soundlessly across the perfect lawn. Then her voice came again.

"You think I'm just another Sith."

Rellik exhaled. A man who had heard similar things before and now getting irritated by it. Replying this time he spoke out into the force. "If this is another - You have never met a Sith like me - I can promise I have. And just like them, you will fall all the same."

Still no sign of her but the park felt smaller now. He was nearing his prey, yet he did not feel like his hunt was trying to hide. In fact, he did not feel anger, pain, or any other thing he usually did with Sith. Just dark conviction. Honing in on that feeling his eyes flicked again... this time toward the tree.

A devilish smirk crossed his face.

"Stay seated, I hope to show you how adorable I am under the shade of the Boa tree."

He began his approach. Reaching out to all around the park and telling them to leave with Force meditation and Qâzoi Kyantuska. All intention in the world to start a fight. There would be no unsanctioned Sith in his space.

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

He thought she was afraid to stand.

Scherezade stayed seated, still biting into her snack, the meat now a little cold. A shame, really. The kebab had been good.

"You misunderstand," she said without raising her voice. She wasn't trying anything really. She just was different. But there was no point into dragging him into a battle of wits over it.

The park was emptying now. She didn't know exactly what trick he was using, but she felt it sweep past her, brushing the edges of her mind like a too-soft whisper. And the crowd responded like good little puppets. Eyes glazed, movements smooth, unthinking. Walking away with half-finished conversations on their tongues.

She didn't move.

Didn't need to.

The ground beneath her fingertips shifted slightly, as though something old and buried had turned over in its sleep.

"You've ruined the atmosphere," she sighed, plucking a golden flower from the grass beside her. She twirled it between her fingers, watching the petals bruised by touch.

Then, at last, she lifted her eyes to him. Green. Glowing. Bottomless.

"I'm not here for the Diarchy. Not here for your throne, your spires, your delicate little control games. I just wanted to walk in the sun for a bit."

The flower's petals crumbled in her hand. The wind picked them up like ash.

"But since you're insisting…"

She stood.

Not like a soldier. Not like a Sith.

Like a storm remembering how to walk.

"We can be adorable together."

But, she would insist. If he wanted to fight, he had to deliver the first blow. It was fun to make these Lightside types be the first ones to break into unprovoked violence.

The Sithling let her arms dangle by her body, muscles all relaxed, open for him to try whatever he wanted. If he dared at all.

Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik did not speak at first. He simply stopped, ten paces away, his cloak still as death behind him. His eyes locked to hers. Noting the green hue from the reports and determining she was the one he was looking for.

A humorless breath escaped his lips. Taking three steps closer while also unsheathing the spear from his back. Finally she had risen to her feet and as she did the Diarch did think for a moment that it was a shame such a beautiful woman needed to die. Yet, such was his goal n the galaxy. The Dark Side and those who practiced it would join him, or die.

"This is my atmosphere. If you want to walk in my sun, my gardens. Than you must have my permission. I do not know you, therefore you do not have my consent to exist."

In his other hand he ignited his gold blade. Instead of the deep gurgle sound it usually had when turned on, it actually sounded as though it was partially malfunctioning. Strange he thought to himself.

"To be here, among my people you must accept my law. Know you are being watched by my surveillance and swear an oath of peace. One that shows you lean more towards the mindset of the Diarchy than those of the Sith. To leave here alive, you must prove you are no savage. For I have spent the last few months of my time hunting down your kind and you will see no mercy from me today."

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade laughed. Not like the man had made a good joke. No, this laugh was quieter. Meaner. A sound that dripped like honey over glass shards. The kind of laugh that didn't ask permission, didn't pretend to be polite. The kind of laugh that knew how to pull teeth and wear them as earrings.

"You don't know me," she echoed, her head tilted ever so slightly. "And that means I don't have your permission to exist?" He was worse than those who had mistreated her during her time with the Confederacy. But at least he got cookie points for doing it right to her face, and that was something she could at least respect. But only a little bit.

He was also kinda full of himself. Whatever the history of the planet was, she knew he did not create it. Maybe altered its culture, maybe built some things. The sunshine was not his work to be proud of. Neither was the atmosphere. Maybe he had a really good taxing system that was the jewel of tax-focused lawyers? That was definitely a flex, in any day or age.

"Look," she said, deciding to try to use words another time, "You can keep watching me. I will swear to not shoot or hit or bite first. I have no idea with the Diarchy or what scratches your tuchas is so you'll excuse me if I can't attest to my mindset for it. But…" she paused, her glowing green eyes running openly over the weapons he had already drawn, "Just so we're clear, you're demanding me to prove I'm not a savage while you have weapons ready to use against me. You do know what savage means, don't you?"

Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Rellik]

She laughed.

It was not the laughter that made him narrow his eyes but like she'd grown so used to being the storm that she'd forgotten some skies bite back. He did not flinch. Did not interrupt. He simply let her speak. And when she finished, he moved once more not with aggression, but with slow, undeniable steps. Until he was close enough to smell the spice of her now-cold kebab.

The spear remained steady in his hand. His blade, still ignited, hummed a low, mechanical growl. But he made no strike. "You stand here, drenched in the Dark, trespassing on sovereign soil, armed with talents that make entire systems bleed and I am expected to lower my weapon because you haven't bitten yet?"

His eyes darkened not with rage, but judgment.

"It is my responsibility to take care of all the people of this world. Of every world that lays under my domain... I am no saint that lets pain come to them before doing something about it myself."

There was a pause. He was debating her words. His saber - was attuned to his psyche. If he was not unsure of killing her outright at first, it would not have had any trouble igniting. It was this very trick that he thought she could be playing on him.

"You may continue about your business." Rellik moved a few steps away. He knelt down in a meditating position. "Now though, all of it will be in the pleasure of my company. And if I am to leave, be assured that you are in the company of those I deem enough to keep you busy long enough for me to return." He looked at her sternly. It was an olive branch. That is what the Diarchy was built on and he would give it another chance despite the new mandate. Peace in one hand, war in the other.

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

"You stand here, drenched in the Dark, trespassing on sovereign soil, armed with talents that make entire systems bleed and I am expected to lower my weapon because you haven't bitten yet?"

Well then. Scherezade almost blushed. It was rare that people showered her in so many compliments without even seeing her in action. In some old group she'd been it, it had been mostly nose wrinkles and casual side steps to get away from her. In another, almost holy. But holy didn't mean respect. This guy… Whatever his deal was, respected what she was.

He moved closer. Her gaze didn't flicker. Not at the blade. Not at the self-righteous speech. His breath smelled like politics. When he finished speaking, olive branch and all, Scherezade blinked once. Slowly. Then tossed the skewer into a nearby bin like it was a decree.

"Wow," she said, "that was the most passive-aggressive truce I've ever been offered. Do you hand out pamphlets with that? 'Welcome to Paradisum. Kneel or die, but, you know, politely.'"

With a grin, she offered him a curtsy. A slow curtsy. She didn't want him thinking she was manoeuvring herself just before an attack. And then she turned away from him, to dismiss an imaginary threat, but because it bored her now. Whatever drama he thought he was playing out, it wasn't hers.

"You can keep me company if you want. I'm sure you're delightful at dinner parties."

She paused, took a single step, then glanced over her shoulder with that slow, wicked smile that never reached her eyes.

"C'mon, let's walk," she offered with a motion of her shoulder, "You explain about your word, and make sure to specify why you think it's in any way under your domain. Except for the part where you get to sit on top of collected taxes, that's a part I already understand."


Diarch Reign

 

[Diarch Rellik]

He watched her curtsy like a predator studies the flash of a colorful bird. The realization that so much war and conflict had started turning him into the thing he hated the most. A monstrous Sith with no inhibition's. Was he not the leader of so many "Sith" and "Jedi" alike, just under a different name. The Brotherhood. His heart ached and he wondered about the decision to send out the declaration against all other force organizations. At the Grand Declaration of the Diarchy he called for peace and understanding. Now he was the harbinger of so much death. The Diarchy was founded on the principle that they wanted to end the cycle of children without parents. He did not know if this woman had a child who would be found in a well of hate, all directed at him.

What have we done.

When she turned and invited him to walk, he followed. Their steps cut across stone paths veined with ivy. He broke the silence with words, but not the ones she might expect.

"You know, we used to meet people under much more amicable standings. This approach is new to us and one I am not quite fond of. I was pragmatist once. A strategist. A ruler who made peace with the Sith of the galaxy because it was useful. Because people needed order and second chances. Now... the wars worsen. The masks fall. Jedi and Sith alike burn systems to ash chasing ghosts of power, and my people look to me. A vote had passed that all non sanctioned Jedi or Sith within our space are to be killed. Although I am Diarch and I spoke my concerns, the bill was passed." He paused and looked at her for a moment. "People like to say a lot of things about us, but we are no empire. In my effort to appease everyone, I have damned so many others. Forgetting that I am not fighting only for the Diarchy but for all life."

There was a look of genuine disgust on his face. He did not know this woman, nor well and he just disclosed that he was not all powerful, that there could be what seemed as dissent in the ways they should move forward in the galaxy. It was a dangerous discussion.

"In the last few month, I have killed more than I did in the years leading to the Diarchy's current standing. I would be lying if I claimed it has not begun to warp something in me. Twist it. It might be hard to believe due to our discussion today, but I have always tried to bring joy and light to our sector of space. Firework show's over Bastion, parades and parties, where everything is paid for by the treasury for the Diarchy's citizens. I have sang and danced as we celebrated victory. Yet, I have also held them after the bombing of their homes. The loss of their loved ones and children."

Then he continued walking with her. He had no weapons out and his tone had shifted. A man who has finally broken after months of vicious conflict. Scherezade was the first person to actually just calmly confront him on the hypocrisy.

"I have fallen to the more malicious urges of the Dark side in my pursuit to protect them. Thank you for showing me that. The homes raided, families butchered and entire towns left in ruin has taken its toll. - This sector of space is not under my domain because people fear me. It is because they trust me to do what is right and I think I have been straying from that path... It is good to be feared if you can not be loved but it is better to be loved than hated. And I have no intention to make more hate and orphans if possible."

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

As the man continued to speak, Scherezade swore she was listening. She was listening in between the steps she took as she led the both of them among the stalls. She was listening as she gingerly collected a few items of food, slipping them into her bag after exchanging them for some hard coin. She was listening as he decided to open up and let the barrage of words out. None of them were an answering to what she'd asked, but… There was something there.

And that something was, among other things, that he wasn't a Lightsider type. Oops. Better not mention it though, the poor shmuck had enough chewing through his nerves already. By the time he was finished, Scherezade was just standing there, a paper bag filled to the brim with bantha wings in her hand, one of those wings in her mouth as she chewed thoughtfully.

He was not a tyrant wrapped in delusions of grandeur, not a monster born of ritual and fire, but just a man with the weight of a galaxy pressing on his lungs and the blood of too many innocents turning his dreams to ash. He was crumbling. And he was telling her.

Beneath the fine clothes and practiced stride, he wasn't gloating about victories or barking threats like most did when they had power. No, he was confessing. Speaking of parades and fireworks like they could offset the scent of burnt homes. Of peace once dreamed, and decisions that broke his spine under the guise of compromise. Of votes passed in rooms too clean to know war, and of hands that had held children one day and ended lives the next. Priestess of Chaos to the rescue.

He called himself a protector. A pragmatist-turned-bloody blade. A ruler trying to sew joy into a people stitched with grief. And somewhere between all the damnation and duty, she saw it: not weakness, but regret. And maybe, just maybe, the last gasp of a man afraid he'd become the thing he rose to fight.

He hadn't asked for her forgiveness.

But Scherezade wasn't in the business of handing it out like candy anyway.

"So you chose to lead people and you're upset that leading people also involves their occasional death?" she asked after swallowing her bantha wing, "I don't think I've ever even seen Jedi be so much in pain over just some collateral damage."

The philosophy was right there for the taking. It wasn't even a complicated one. Every moment in their galaxy, people were born, and people died. Usually not due to natural circumstances.

A second bantha wing made it into her mouth before she offered him some as well from her paper bag.

"I've been part of the whole 'government' thing before," she said after clearing her mouth. "One group tried to bring peace through finance and paperwork. The other one tried by setting empires on fire. Wanna guess who racked up the bigger body count?"

She laughed, letting the question hang in the air.

"But listen, dude," she went on. Casual, perhaps too casual. But that was just her. Her tone didn't lack respect. Didn't offer any, either. "If people dying hits you this hard, maybe you're in the wrong business. You ever thought of opening a food truck?"

She gestured to the wings. "As a gesture of good will, I'll be your first paying customer. Hey what's your name, anyway?"

Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik took one of the wings without ceremony, biting into. He chewed, swallowed, and gave her a side glance."I'm upset that some of them die for reasons that don't matter. There's a difference." Another bite.

Smirking faintly. "That is because once Jedi's ideals are actually challenged they show their true nature of un-caring and philosophical fallacy. Honesty to a Jedi is like drinking poison."

He took another wing from her bag, as if they were also his.

"If people dying hits you this hard, maybe you're in the wrong business. You ever thought of opening a food truck?"

"Sure. I'll put it right here in the park. You can be my taste tester, then you will be a sanctioned Sith within my space. We'll make a fortune."

There was no sass or annoyance in his tone but he was done trying to be melodramatic with her. He was simply being.

"Rellik," he said simply.

He gestured for her to keep walking.

"Your turn, Scherezade. If you are not here to be a proto-typical Sith and harm my people. What is it you do?"

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Still chewing with glee, the Sithling grinned from ear to ear at the same time as she followed the man's fantasy about a food truck, nodding enthusiastically as he said she would be the sanctioned food taster. If she hadn't had so much bantha wing in her mouth she would have properly told him right there that she had good ways of dealing with most potential poisons, so she was going to stick to such a position for a seriously long time. Like, at least a full month!

Their walk continued, the bag now empty. She tossed it carelessly into the nearest bin, still walking with that stride that showed complete casual-ness, entirely at ease with where she was and probably who she was in it. She knew there were many Sith who abhorred sunny places, and while she wasn't a fan of being in direct sunlight for hours, she could never claim to hate it. Sunshine was home.

He gave her name. Rellik. Cool. And then he said her name, though she hadn't introduced herself at any point. The shock lasted less than a moment. Only the very perceptive might have caught it, if they were looking at her at the right time. And then she remembered that he knew who she was. He had come to find her, after all. So sure, he knew her name.

"Literally just came to enjoy a sunny day," she said with simplicity, "I was born on a warm planet. One of my few memories from it are the smell of a sunshine, and my mother. This planet was the closest one to where I was when I decided I want it, so I figured, why not."

She sighed, still walking with him, her fingers looking for something to fiddle with. Perhaps more food? It wasn't like it'd be taken well if she took out one of her blades and started playing with it, even if she had no violent intent.

"Not that I don't harm people," Scherezade quickly added, trying to save face, "I do that quite enough. But I need a reason, you know? Random deaths just don't cut it."

---

Diarch Rellik

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik listened, weighing her words the way he weighed everything.

"Fair enough," he said, glancing around at the manicured gardens. "Paradisum has plenty of those. You'll please forgive me for assuming you were here to ruin a nice day instead of enjoy it. We have not ran into someone sensible in sadly to long."

They kept walking, the crowd slowly bleeding back into the park now that the tension had eased. At the honestly she was okay with violence it actually eased the Diarch. Something something the devil you know. It would be a giant lie to say Rellik had not partaken in his share of it either.

"That already makes you less reckless than most Sith I've met," Rellik said dryly. "Some of them thought random deaths were reason enough. One even called it art. You can imagine how quickly that ended."

He gave her a sidelong look, his tone lighter now. "Besides, if you need a cause before you draw blood, then maybe you're not the kind of savage my people need to worry about. Instead, I believe you fit in here well."

He gestured faintly to the families returning to their strolls and the children chasing each other through the grass. "These are the ones I answer to. If someone like you comes here and starts trouble without reason, then it's my problem. But if you're really just here for the sun, then fine. I don't need to make it harder than it has to be."

A smirk touched his lips as he added, "Though next time, bring enough wings to share."

Slowly he began to focus less on deWinter. His gaze turning to other things. "I hope you enjoy your stay within Diarchy space. If anyone asks, you are here under sanctioned watch to view the Sith culture of Paradisum... Enjoy your stay Ms. Scherezade deWinter"

Already the explanation was given that she would be under surveillance. There was no reason to layer that threat further or anything else. The Diarch had enjoyed her company for the most part. Even if at moments it made a fool out of the man. Sometimes, it takes another to tell you how dramatic, foolish, or crazy you are acting for you to truly see it. Overall, in his mind, lady deWinter was a unique and enjoyable person.

Scherezade deWinter

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Less reckless than most of the Sith he'd met? Scherezade blinked in surprise at that claim. That was not something many would say about her. She was a very reckless person. Had entire planets under terror by her pink glitter not that long ago in her own timeline… But maybe Diarch Rellik didn't need to know about that part just yet. Dealing with a fresh ban from a nice and sunny planet sounded like too much trouble.

"I'm a creature of chaos, not a savage," she said with a proud smile when he specified she'd fit in well.

Still, she understood what he was getting at.

And that the natural conclusion of their meeting had arrived.

"It was a pleasure meeting you," she said with an ear to ear grin, though her tone was simple and honest, "next time, you can come visit my ship. I'll bring cheese cubes!"

And she supposed that was that.

Almost.

From seemingly nowhere, she whipped a small metallic card between her fingers, and offered it to him.

"In case you ever come up with a reason to get in touch," her smile became a grin, "you know… If reasons present themselves."