Private From Frost I Come, To Frost I Return [Watcher and Minister #1]

[Vyrien Paskal]

LOCATION: Bosph
TIME: Afternoon
TAGS: Isla Draellix-Kobitana

Life, it seemed, was a futile battle against the haunted landscape of the mind - least it was in the case of Vyrien Paskal. The deserts of Mirial, while low in temperature, did not fit the bill for the struggle and the meditations to contend with it. Nor did the countless nights spent running through katas in the relative silence of the grasses of Bopsh, a moving meditation that provided a small measure of relief. As brief as the reprieve was, and despite the worth that any respite, however small, held, he had grown tired of the scenery. And yet… leaving the Crusade to sort out his mind in the frigid, familiar climes of Arkania was not at all an option; this was a further struggle that gnawed at him, until one day he happened upon a discussion that caught his notice, on the way out of one of the mess halls that congregated the Ashlan host for meals.

'How could anyone want to live somewhere so cold' seemed to be the majority consensus, but the origin came from one female pilot, who gushed about the grand abode that her admiral, the Minister of Defence, had made her home in. Derisive guffaws told the girl to go and 'freeze your ass off in the snows of Lur if you love it so much', making Vyr of half-a-mind to clip the voicer of such impolite words upside the head… but it would be less wise to start an unnecessary fight. Instead, he caught up with the younger crusader as she stormed off in frustration.

He came away from the encounter having gleaned more information from the woman about Lur and this castle, in exchange for some guidance on how to handle such a situation better, next time - internally and externally - and answering questions about his katana and armour of all things… but to be fair, light armour of this style was uncommon amongst the members of the Crusade. Allowing her his patience with her starry-eyed questions gave him a poetic account of this place she idealised, and it painted a picture that the sterile information found through more official channels could not, but images of the castle and the surrounding landscape bore out the old saying: a picture worth the thousand words (give or take) that the young pilot spoke, of that place.

Vyr sat back from the terminal and sank into the chair, pale hand curled about his chin, and mused on what to do with this information, how to… approach the matter of this snow-blanketed world within the Crusade's borders being quite possibly just what he needed. Simply showing up announced to investigate and find a new home wasn't entirely proper, not when he now knew there was one of their number already present, and a ranking official, no less.

This in mind, he sat back up at the terminal and began to compose a letter. At the very least, she could very well be of assistance in the possible relocation, and knowledgeable about the place…

To: Grand Admiral Isla Draellix, Minister of Defence
From: Vyrien Paskal - Lieutenant Commander (Retired), Lightbringer Squadron

Minister Draellix,

We don't know each other, but my service in the squadrons of the Crusade somewhat predates your ascension to the top post of the Admiralty, and I never served under your command; as such, we have never had sufficient opportunity to cross paths... yet may have, if not for circumstances beyond my control.

That said, I hope this letter finds you well, and to get to the point, I write to ask for your assistance.

As of late, I have been finding myself in need of a change of scenery, and the ache for a long-familiar climate has settled into my bones. I would be loathe to leave the Crusade just to attempt to find clarity of mind in the freeze of my homeland, Arkania, but it has come to my attention that Lur, with a not too dissimilar climate is much closer… and within our borders, no less.

With this, I ask your assistance in finding a place to call home for my possible relocation, and would be grateful for your views on the local culture, as the resident official.

I await your response,

Vyrien Paskal

Thinking on the form of his letter, he reclined once again, sinking into the back of the chair. It needed... something.

P.S.

At some point, I seem to have come into possession of the knowledge that you're a student of the martial arts.

Should we meet... humour me, if you will?

Finding it satisfactory, he sent it onward and left the terminal with a rare upturn of the corners of his lips at the thrill of leaving a challenge on the table...

 

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

Location: Classified
Objective: Classified
Tags: Vyrien Paskal

A warm light bathed Isla Draellix as she stood on her command post on the hot and arid salt world, a few seconds later there was a rumble and a momentary shaking as the shock wave passed them and receded into the distance behind them. Loose salt filled the air and she was glad for her goggles and rebreather apparatus, but it was very uncomfortable in them with the heat here. As the glow settled, she looked through her binoculars and could see the test site had been vaporised.

"Hanaya my friend, as much as I hate this rock, you always put on a good show when you drag me out on here, what was the yield one that one?". The four armed redhead next to her ran through the figures and transfered then to Isla's pad. "Very impressive, a few more percentage points on that and I think we will be ready to install". As she looked at the numbers an icon appeared on her desktop, SAINT had detected an incoming message and flagged it as personal and important. "While you set up for the next test I am going to go and deal with something and grab a bite, want anything brought back?". The walked off the command post and found a table to have some food while she read her message.

She sat with her iced coffee and read with interest, she had noted this man before as he had noticed, but her AI had automatically updated her pad with some of his details, he was considering relocating to her little iceball, he didn't blame him, it was a beautiful planet and the cold was so invigorating.

To: Vyrien Paskal - Lieutenant Commander (Retired), Lightbringer Squadron

From: Grand Admiral Isla Draellix - Minister of Defence, Grand Master of the Order of the Sisters of Ashla


Lieutenant Commander Paskal,

I enjoyed receiving your letter, it is nice to have something arrive as personal rather than specifically related to the Crusade. It is a shame we have not met, but maybe that is fortuitous as it would be more difficult for me to help with the rest of your letter if you were my subordinate.

I am sorry you pine for your home, I understand the feeling, the security situation makes it difficult for me to visit the planet I grew up on as much as I would like. Lur is beautiful, it is a mostly untouched and unspoiled wilderness, dotted with the most wonderful settlements, including the one located not far from my home. Would you believe I fell in love with the planet whilst chasing Sith out of an old fortress?

It is difficult to convey the beauty of the place with words alone so I would welcome you to visit me at Draellix Castle. I can introduce you to the planet and maybe help you find a residence of your own. There are plenty of guest bedrooms in my home that you could enjoy until you found somewhere. It would also be fun to have a new sparring partner to test myself again so I accept your martial challenge.

I will be at a military location for the next three days, then it will take me another two days to return home and wash the heat from this place away. If you would like to join me in five days I will look forward to it.

Isla Draellix

Isla sent the message to Vyrien and smiled to herself as she flipped through a few more details that SAINT had flagged up for her as she wrote. She was looking forward to having a guest, someone that would be under no obligation to call her by her titles. She also blushed slightly as she caught herself admiring a few biography photos, she would be lying if she said didn't find him a little attractive.

 

[Vyrien Paskal]

LOCATION: Bosph
TIME: Evening
TAGS: Isla Draellix-Kobitana

Final meetings and paperwork for his military retirement took up the remainder of his afternoon. He had been waiting a few weeks since putting in the decision to retire, which came months after the decimation of his squadron, in the early days of his personal leave. The associated guilt despite knowing, intellectually, that the unfortunate loss was pure coincidence deepened the weight of the nightmarish plague on his psyche, where until that point it had (mostly) been managed… it was difficult to not feel as if he was in some way being punished as night after night with little reprieve robbed him of rest.

Sitting at the terminal in his sparse abode, intending to check for mail after an evening meal he'd barely touched, Vyrien instead sank into the seat and deflated, holding his head up on fingertips, eyes squeezing shut, a deep, heavy sigh escaping him while his inner world burned with a choking kind of pain. Warm tears slipped free in the silence, provoking a whispered plea for the mercy of his Goddess. Time held no meaning in this darkest of places, and his head fell into the cradle of both his pale hands as he went forth to wrestle with his demons.

LOCATION: Bosph
TIME: Late

By the time the twin moons reigned in the skies, the fresh civilian, boots and all, could only be found curled up on a bed of his own making that was as tidy and orderly in how its corners were tucked, as he himself tended to be, its clean lines a contrast to his internal disorder. Eyes creaked open after the empty swatch of sleep; a faint, dull ache had settled into his head, but the heaviness was gone. After several minutes awake yet unmoving, the Watcher slipped from the bed to go tidy himself up.

Coming out of the fresher room some minutes later, feeling a little less like a husk, he scrubbed a hand through the ashen strands atop his head and looked to the terminal, noting a blinking light. He stared at it for a handful of moments, wondering how long the blink had been going on, only to go and seat himself at the terminal upon finding no clue from memory, sitting at first in an almost similar pose to when he had settled into the seat, that evening.

He tapped at the screen with his free hand and waited the scant moment for it to rouse and illuminate, whereupon he sought out the cause of the blink with eyes still a tad bleary; finding the notification to be a message caused Vyr to raise his head from its perch on his fist, and upon reading the name of the sender, he sat up much straighter to read her words, letting go of a breath he had been holding upon finding himself relieved by her response. Sinking into his thoughts around the message and the curious questions it brought up, it was several more minutes before he began to craft a reply.

To: Grand Admiral Isla Draellix - Minister of Defence, Grand Master of the Order of the Sisters of Ashla
From: Vyrien Paskal - Lieutenant Commander (Retired), Lightbringer Squadron

Minister Draellix,

I thank you for your prompt reply.

'A picture is worth a thousand words' as the saying goes, but neither words nor a photograph compare to firsthand experience.

He glanced at her bio, still open on the terminal from earlier in the day. Firsthand experience… he inhaled sharply, followed by a faint cough as if to interrupt himself from wandering, and turned back to the response at hand.

I look forward to seeing the lands with my own eyes, and I wish to thank you in advance for your hospitality, and for the opportunity to thoroughly stretch my limbs. I will see you in five days' time.

Until then,

Vyrien Paskal

 

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

Location: Classified
Objective: Classified
Tags: Vyrien Paskal

In orbit above classified location

It was a productive couple of days of weapons testing and negotiations with her Codru Ji hostess before she was finally able to sign off on the next installation, her new flagship was literally weeks from trials, having been built in secret at the Kuat Drive Yards. She figured he had one more day on this planet, work was done so she was going to relax a little before returning home. Hanaya's flagship was in orbit and its quarters had been set up for an important visiting dignitary such as Isla so she was alone in a fairly grand room. A room much grander than the type she preffered to keep, being fairly modest for a woman in her position.

She strolled across her well heated room on lush carpet wearing nothing but a wrap around gown. The staff had drawn her a bath and she was going to soak herself until the salt was completely gone from her skin. She went into the room, slipped off the gown and lowered herself slowly into the hot water. She smiled as the steam rose up to meet her body and she felt the aching of a couple of hard days melting away into the warmth.

Isla let herself relax now, and picked up her pad, there was a personal communication that had pinged up earlier in the day but she just hadn't had chance to read it. It was from Paskal, accepting her invitation. She had not expected such a short notice offer to be accepted. She was glad though, some non-professional company at home would be a nice change. She would make sure the gentleman knew she did not need to be called minister all the time. She sent the coordinates and landing details too him and just a short notice, with less formality this time as the usual addresses would likely be longer than the message.

To: Vyrien Paskal
From: Isla Draellix

That would be wonderful, I have attached landing coordinates and will eagerly await your arrival.

See you on Lur
Isla Draellix

She dropped her pad onto the side and slid under the hot bubbling water.

3 days later on Lur...

'Curse this timing' thought Isla to herself as she stood on the balcony of her castle watching a speeder leave the courtyard and dissappear into the snow storm. She had hoped to go and greet him herself, but security protocol dictated that she remains in the castle grounds during severe weather, apparently the crusade wasn't interested in losing an Admiral to frostbite.

She was making the best of a bad situation though, she had put the finishing touches to her outfit, she didn't know why she was so Intent on making a good impression, after all, he came to her. But she was a slave to her vanity some days even when there wasn't an attractive man coming to visit her. One of her assistants was a lovely young Lur girl that had just made up the guest bedroom for her and was now wiping some marks off of her thigh length leather boots. These were hand made in Atrisian leather and she wore them all the time, they were so comfortable and suited her legs well.

"Thank you, Jinni, you have been very helpful. Don't feel like you have to rush off home straight away in this weather, take a little while to get some hot food in you and make sure you are wrapped up warm enough OK." She got on so well with the locals here and felt they had welcomed her with open arms, she hoped her guest would find the locals equally accommodating wherever he decided to set up his home.

The speeder would take around fifteen minutes to get to the landing pad, Isla was aware that Vyrien's ship would land any moment and had made sure to warn their crew how bad the weather was coming in to the valley. She hadn't heard from Vyrien himself, but that wasn't particularly bothersome.

 

[Vyrien Paskal]

LOCATION: Lur
TAGS: Isla Draellix-Kobitana
TUNES: Tundra - Skyrim

After making the arrangements for his transit to Lur, since piloting the flight himself was not safe as of yet, the few days passed without any new incident. He packed his duffel well, as only one who had done it likely hundreds of times could do, and left his sparse abode to catch his flight at the appointed time, so as to arrive as on schedule as possible. Any anxious feeling that might have attacked an individual at the prospect of an unfamiliar place, and being in the company of an unfamiliar person, was absent; only mild agreeable anticipation of frigid air on his skin and the particular inherent solitude of the clime he was headed into settled on his mind as he relaxed into his seat on the transport, and with lift-off in the ensuing moments.

The transit passed uneventfully, and somehow he had managed to nod off during the latter half of the passage, only to be shaken awake by the storm that buffeted the vessel as it entered atmosphere and began its descent. A hazy half-second had his eyes flick open and fingers curl around the ends of the seat's armrests, his mind making assumptions of an attack, until a sharp cursing from the pilot at the storm floated back to him from the cockpit and he let go of a breath caught in the confusion, sighing it out and closing his eyes.

"Alright back there, sir?"

Vyrien opened his eyes and looked up to see the co-pilot twisting around the edge of his seat to look back at him. Sir? He wasn't certain how to feel about that term, now. A moment hung with silence between them.

"I'm only retired, not an invalid, Triest," he said, letting go of the other possible objection, "we have all seen worse than a blizzard," then only a second thereafter: "but thank you, yes. I'm alright."

Gallen Triest's forthcoming apology only got as far as his expression. Firm of lip, the co-pilot gave one short nod, "good, sir," and turned back to the fore as the vessel escaped the clouds and made its final approach.

"Coming in to land, sir. Contact in 10... 9..."

A storm was little issue for some of the Crusade's best, and the transport set down rather smoothly, given the circumstances, with no damage to it or the landing pad that welcomed it. Once everything felt well and truly settled, Vyrien and the two pilots unbuckled and peeled themselves out of their seats; the half-Echani for his part shrugged his coat-tailed and embroidered trenchcoat back upon his shoulders, tightened the buckles of his boots, and fetched his duffel and katana, bracing himself as he filed out of the transport last, bracing himself for the howling wind and blowing snow. A couple minutes of this slow progress, step by step, saw him delivered to the speeder, leaving the pilots behind, who were checking the vessel over as was protocol before heading separately into the settlement itself for a reprieve, and to wait out the storm before departing on their next assignment.

"Welcome to Lur, Mister Paskal - settle in, and we'll be within the walls of the castle as quickly as the weather allows."

The speeder wasted no time cutting through the blizzard to deliver him to the castle, and aside from the speeder pilot's greeting, a conversation-less quarter of an hour left him to take in the blurred surroundings through the poor visibility. To some, such a situation would be a greater concern, but to Vyrien Paskal, a blizzard was insulating, a cocoon, and the isolation it could bring was no bother. Memory was rife with such times.

At the beginning of this last leg of his transit, a message would ping for the lady of the castle:

The weather appears to have impeccable timing.

It almost feels like home.

-Vyrien

 

[Isla Draellix-Kobitana]

Location: Draellix Castle
Objective: to welcome her guest
Tags: Vyrien Paskal

Isla's data pad pinged with Vyrien's message, it made her laugh, good job he enjoyed the cold, there was lots of it and satellites say this blizzard would likely go on until the morning at least.

Perfect isn't it, it bodes well that you welcome the cold. I will meet you in the courtyard, there is a fire waiting for you.

Isla

Isla walked through the castle, her heels alternating between clicking on the flagstones and muffled on the rugs as she went. The door was just ahead, she wore her thermal makeup and her dress had an Enviroweave layer but it was still cold outside. She opened the door and stepped outside into the blizzard. With the walls around the castle there was no horizontal wind, but the snow swirled around as it cascaded down around her and turbulence picked it up again.

Sue saw the lights of the speeder before she heard it, it had taken them over 20 minutes due to treacherous conditions, but the drivers were well practiced. Into the courtyard came the speeder and pulled up along side Isla. She couldn't see the occupant through the frosted windows but she nodded to the driver politely as he checked all his systems. As the door slid open she saw Vyrien Paskal for the first time, he was a tall, light haired man, well dressed and very handsome.

"Welcome to Draellix Castle!" she said with a warm smile but having to raise her voice over the noise of the wind. "sorry about the weather, it isn't always like this." it was like it a lot, but when the cool, crisp air was clear and she could see for miles across the nearby lake, there was nothing like. She loved it here.

She would help him out of his speeder and once greeted would lead him to her lounge where a large open fire crackled away, warming the air and casting very cosy light around the room.

 

[Vyrien Paskal]

LOCATION: Lur
TAGS: Isla Draellix-Kobitana

Perfect isn't it, it bodes well that you welcome the cold. I will meet you in the courtyard, there is a fire waiting for you.

Isla

Yes, it was perfect. The faintest of smiles appeared on his face, reading the words; so many preferred otherwise, and lacked understanding of what the colder climes could provide... regardless of the fact that most had not lived with it. When the door of the speeder moved away several minutes later, the howl of rushing gusts was the first thing to greet his ears, but within these walls he was not buffeted upon emerging from the vehicle, and the voice and and look of the woman to whom he was guest, she who had come to greet him personally, gave him a moment's pause.

Images… didn't do her justice. It was striking.

"The power and majesty of a storm," he said after that moment, ducking back into the speeder to fetch duffel and blade, "is nothing to be sorry for."

He handed her the blade, sheathed, only hesitating for a second: it was an extension of him, and this was not unlike putting a piece of one's soul in another's hands. He surmised that this was a thing she might know to respect. The duffel with its greater mass was what he carried into the castle and into the warmed lounge, taking in the space which was a stark contrast to the cold, uniform bulkheads and decks of each ship he had inhabited for over a decade.

"Thank you… Isla…" the verbal use of a first name in such short order had a strangeness to it, despite the disposal of all pretense by text before this meeting, "...for welcoming me into your home."

He shifted the duffel off of his shoulder, where he'd slung it to put the weight across his back.

"Forgive my bluntness, but I've spent many years living in quarters smaller than this room…" smaller, and not as inviting, "...how does one woman inhabit an entire castle?"