Private Frozen Bones and a Chilly Reception?

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Nordra
Time: Dusk, approximately 8:00pm local time

---

Rayia had been wandering for some time now. Rather than tie herself to one specific faction, with the exception of the wild space rebellion, she traversed the Middle and Outer Rims doing good where she could regardless of who offered it. She conducted such excursions carefully, often hitching a ride in the cargo bay of varying cargo vessels as an unregistered passenger when she could. In all honesty, she was a little wearied. Tension was high and it bled into the motions of everyone she interacted with, smothering her with the vibrations and motions of a system poised to snap.

Thankfully, she did have the occasional distraction such as the mission she found herself on now. One deeply rooted in personal desires yet important nonetheless. Her sources had finally tracked down a potent artifact relevant to her tribe- no, to the Felacatian people: a stolen Volusen or Bone of Gold. It was rooted somewhere within this very system. ‘Perhaps even on this frigid iceberg of a world,’ Rayia thought as she wrapped her fluffy tail tighter around her waist.

A small puff of steam trailed into the air as Rayia’s breath escaped. The corner of her lips pulled into a quizzical frown. Clawed fingers tapped idly on the metallic surface of her comms array as the Felacatian turned it over in her hands. In retrospection, she wondered if this had been such a good idea. Just a little while ago, her battered comms array had pinged with an encrypted signal. Having slipped off the ship and into one of the Nord settlements, Rayia had used her Felacatian ability to sense motion to avoid being seen by the locals. She had been careful to cover her tracks as well as she traversed the secluded settlement. Yet, someone apparently knew she was here.

Instinct, the Force, call it what you will insisted she respond. Something about it felt… familiar.

Click

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Unfinished Craftsmanship"

- TAG: Rayia Si

It had not been long after Rayia stepped upon the ice world of Nordra that Virelia was informed of her arrival. The Tyrant Queen had long ago marked the smith as a person of interest amongst her corrupt local officials, ensuring that if the magnificent artist of the forge ever wandered within reach of her claws again, she would not slip unnoticed through the cracks of the world.

And so Virelia moved to intercept the Jedi's journey through the bleak wilderness.

It was a dangerous path to tread. Treacherous cliffs loomed beneath curtains of snow, while volcanic fissures split the frozen earth apart with rivers of molten fire waiting far below for a single careless misstep. Yet Rayia had endured it safely. That, at least, did not surprise Virelia in the slightest. Those touched by the Force always seemed gifted with surviving conditions that should have killed lesser beings ten times over.

The trail led toward one of the scattered Nord settlements.

Virelia doubted the Jedi would reveal herself openly to the locals unless absolutely necessary. Choosing much the same, she wrapped herself within the Force and moved unseen through the settlement, a shadow drifting between snow-covered structures until she ascended a tower overlooking much of the village below.

Ahh… There.

Between the tavern and a small stone dwelling, Rayia lingered patiently, waiting for the drunken locals nearby to finally disperse. They were easy enough to distinguish: loud, stumbling fools against the poised, feline dexterity of the Felacatian standing amongst them.

Now was the perfect moment.

Virelia stepped from the tower and crossed the settlement in silence, using the Force to carry her through the air. She leapt across rooftops and narrow streets alike, levitating just enough to mask her landing while her Force Cloak concealed her entirely from sight. Slowly, deliberately, she approached from behind the smith.

There were many possibilities here. Many paths this meeting could take, but Rayia had remained a particular fascination to Virelia for a very, very long time.

Click.

The sharp sound of defensive systems activating broke the silence as Virelia allowed her Force cloak to fall away just behind Rayia. There would be no interruptions now. Not when the prize that had captivated her for so long had finally wandered onto Nordra of its own accord.

Like a predator savoring the moment before the strike, Virelia allowed the Jedi a brief instant to gather her senses. And when Rayia inevitably turned, she would be greeted by the sight of the six-eyed mask staring back at her through the falling snow.

Virelia's voice emerged smooth and noble as ever, touched by that familiar sultry cadence.

"Rayia… it is a pleasure to see you again."

 

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Nordra
Time: Dusk, approximately 8:00pm local time

---

Rayia had felt a presence moving behind her as she had entered the settlement. Her finely tuned Felacatian senses could register and interpret vibrations of motion, after all. Being followed had given her a measure of pause and she had stepped into the alley to be discreet. If she was going to fight, the fewer witnesses the better. Her fingers had tightened on the hilt within her cloak. But she had not sensed a Force signature. Not until the click of defensive systems around her sprang to life and a familiar, metallic tang roiled in Rayia’s mouth.

Rayia reacted almost instantly. Feline reflexes firing as she spun around. Golden, catlike irises finding… Virelia. Rayia stopped in her tracks, letting Light Fang lamely find her hip again. She straightened, attempting to gather herself in the face of someone she hadn’t expected to see again. Yet she supposed she should have expected it, given the galaxy’s tendency to inspire their odd dance.

Face smoothed into something not quite unperturbed, Rayia replied. “Serina. This is a surprise.” As usual, Rayia did not bother with titles as most people did. The galaxy was more suited for blunt directness nowadays besides. Those golden orbs took in Virelia’s armor and weaponry, noting everything. Especially a distinct lack of one item in particular.

After a brief moment, Rayia’s lips pursed together. She didn’t suspect Virelia meant her any harm… directly. Not with -whatever it was- between them. Plus, Rayia had already hosted her twice and if there was anything a Sith hated it was being shown up. But Rayia couldn’t be too careful.

“So…what now?”

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Unfinished Craftsmanship"

- TAG: Rayia Si

It was all so very… casual.

A small disappointment to the Tyrant Queen, if she were being truthful with herself. Virelia had always adored dramatic flair—the sharp gasp of surprise, the shudder of anticipation, the delicious tension that came from prey realizing the predator had already cornered them long before they noticed the hunt had even begun.

Yet Rayia offered none of that, instead, there was only familiarity.

As though the Felacatian had long since accepted that Virelia would inevitably appear somewhere behind her shadow one day, waiting patiently for the perfect moment to emerge. Still, Virelia could not find it within herself to be displeased by such a thing. If Rayia expected her, then the Jedi had carried thoughts of her for some time now, and the Tyrant Queen was immensely fond of occupying space within the minds of others.

There were, of course, two ways this could proceed.

The first was dreadfully boring. She could simply instruct Rayia to accompany her back to the Nordra facility, and the two of them could endure the long frozen trek in near-total silence before discussing matters somewhere warmer and more private.

The second option, however…

Dangerous. Far more dangerous.

Not in the sense of violence—Virelia had no intention of harming Rayia—but dangerous in a far subtler way. The sort of danger that came from proximity, temptation, and the slow erosion of certainty. Whether the young Jedi could truly withstand that kind of pressure was another matter entirely.

Still, the choice belonged to Virelia, and she rather enjoyed that fact.

There was something deeply satisfying about holding complete control over the moment, about Rayia quietly surrendering the initiative into her hands. A devout Jedi allowing a dark and terrible woman to decide the course of their encounter—it was the sort of irony Virelia found endlessly amusing.

More than that, Rayia clearly understood she was not in danger.

Virelia had never desired her death. Quite the opposite. Rayia's craftsmanship alone had elevated her beyond the countless forgettable figures scattered throughout the galaxy. The way she maintained the halberd had ensured that much.

And so, after allowing the silence to linger just long enough, Virelia began to slowly approach the younger woman. Snow drifted softly between them as the sultry cadence of her vox-filtered voice returned once more.

"Well, darling, I am quite certain we have much to re-acquaint ourselves on. I have been a very busy woman since we last met… and I imagine you have as well."

She came to a stop directly before Rayia now, towering slightly over her. Six violet eyes stared down through the mask with a vicious intensity that somehow never crossed into outright hostility.

"Why don't you come with me?" she purred. "It would be such a terrible shame to see someone like you wasting away amongst the dregs of this world. Hiding amongst drunkards and savages…"

Her head tilted slightly.

"Someone as special as you deserves far more than that."

A brief pause followed. Then:

"Besides… I would be more than happy to help you." Her voice softened into something almost intimate. "People do not come to places like this without a reason, after all."

 

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Nordra
Time: Dusk, approximately 8:00pm local time

---

Rayia waited for Virelia’s response to her question. She was not surprised as the seconds ticked by. She knew her opposite’s proclivities towards dramatic flair and correctly guessed that Virelia was likely fuming over Rayia circumventing it. Oh well. Rayia had never been particularly eloquent or well versed in theatrics.

‘Should I have collapsed into her arms with a hand to my brow, like in those holodramas? I still could- No, the moment has passed.‘

Rayia could also intuit that Virelia was relishing in her ceding the initiative to her. Though the fact of the matter was that the Felacatian had little choice if she wanted not to draw attention and remain on civil terms with Virelia. Someone she liked for reasons nigh impossible to explain or even understand herself. Perhaps it was their shared love of the craft. Fighting now would only draw unwanted eyes which Rayia blatantly could not afford. Because if she was right, well…

‘No, better to take the risks of whatever game Virelia is playing,’ Rayia thought, even as the beast within growled in her mind. Danger. She brushed it off for now and waited as Virelia strode towards her, craning her head upwards to look Virelia in the eyes. Small and slight as her humanoid form was, Rayia was fairly diminutive compared to the armored woman. What came next Virelia was sure to get a kick out of. It was one of the very few polite mannerisms Rayia’s Felacatian tribe had adopted from their Weikian neighbors and the rest of the galaxy. A hand extended demurely, waiting to be taken.

The other’s words earned her a frown. “Please, I am no better nor worse than them. Just a simple smith.”

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Unfinished Craftsmanship"

- TAG: Rayia Si

It was becoming increasingly easy for Virelia to ignore the bitter cold of Nordra. Rayia, quite unintentionally, was making the encounter far more interesting than the Tyrant Queen had anticipated. It was the outstretched hand, sitting quite elegantly, almost regal in nature.

The gesture hung between them as though Rayia were some noble queen from an old Naboo holodrama awaiting proper courtly attention. It was refined in a way Virelia had not expected from the Felacatian, and it immediately captured her interest.

Then came the Jedi's words, the humility of which drew the faintest irritation beneath Virelia's composed exterior.

Had the Jedi Order truly failed to show Rayia how exceptional she was? Had they not praised the gifts that set her apart from so many others? An expert smith. A capable warrior. Intelligent. Beautiful in her own quiet way. Very few within the Order could claim such a combination of qualities, yet Rayia still insisted on diminishing herself before her.

Oh, that simply would not do. Not at all.

Still, now was not the time to press such matters. The faint frown upon the Jedi's face was already enough warning for Virelia not to push too hard. Better to let Rayia discover her own worth gradually than attempt to blind her with truths she was not yet prepared to accept.

But the offered hand? That, Virelia could work with.

Slowly, the claws of her gauntlet retracted with a soft mechanical hiss. One armored hand rose and accepted the gesture offered to her. Somehow, despite the obsidian plating and hidden weaponry, the motion carried a strange grace to it—delicate and almost tender, yet unmistakably firm and possessive all at once.

For a brief moment, she allowed the silence to settle naturally between them. Snow drifted softly around the pair as they stood close together, the distance between predator and prey blurred into something far more intimate. It almost appeared as though they were sheltering one another from the brutality of Nordra's frozen winds.

Finally, Virelia spoke again.

"Darling… you really shouldn't have."

Dangerous words, allowing Virelia this close was likely not the wisest decision Rayia could make. Yet it was also precisely the sort of vulnerability the Tyrant Queen delighted in encouraging.

Her thumb shifted ever so slightly against Rayia's hand before she continued.

"A shuttle will arrive shortly," she purred. "It will take us somewhere considerably more welcoming than these frigid little winds."

Her six violet eyes lingered upon the Felacatian for another moment before her head tilted ever so slightly.

"But tell me…" she asked smoothly, "why come to a place like this at all?"

 

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Nordra
Time: Dusk, approximately 8:00pm local time

---

Rayia’s face remained the picture of calm concern. Yet, internally she was wincing as she read the puzzlement in Virelia’s movements. ‘Kriff, I forgot how sharp-eyed she is,’ Rayia thought. It really had been a while since their last dance and Rayia was rusty. The slight pause and turn of her attention towards the outstretched hand confirmed that Rayia had unintentionally divulged more of herself than she had intended to.

She waited, mistaking the stiffness entering her frame at her annoyance of Rayia’s avoidance of praise for offense taken. It had been a while since Rayia had need of these polite gestures. No, since she had even practiced these motions. Customs were different across the galaxy. Could it be that she was not up to date on matters of import and she had insulted Virelia somehow? Rayia didn’t know. What’s worse is that appearing indecisive would further pry away whatever remained of her guise as a mere smith. So she waited.

Virelia took her hand in her own almost delicately. The metallic surface of the gauntlet causing Rayia to shiver and wrap her cloak tighter about her shoulders. Virelia’s chiding admonishment caused Rayia’s lips to twitch. She was probably right. Allowing Virelia to draw so close, while calculated, probably wasn’t one of Rayia’s best decisions. Yet, the same could be said about her opposite. The vulnerability presented by Rayia’s humanoid form was a facade. Discarded should the need arise. And the Felacatian was a mere arm’s length away. Rayia supposed that it reflected their relationship in a way. Each exchanging roles between predator and prey. Each equally vulnerable to each other. Each…not acting on that vulnerability directly and yet attempting to influence the other.

Rayia was snapped from her musings by the sound of Virelia’s voice. Her ears twitched as she registered the statement regarding a shuttle and the question Virelia posed to her. Rayia considered her answers briefly. She would rather not reveal too much once again. Illuna knows Virelia already had a vested interest in her smithing and possessing it for herself. She could feel that in her grip. But should Virelia realize the extent of Rayia’s qualities, Rayia feared she would turn her attention fully towards making her hers.

“I was in system because I have a vested interest in stories from this region. I am here… because I presume, someone informed you to call for me.”

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Unfinished Craftsmanship"

- TAG: Rayia Si

Hmm... Stories?

That answer alone was enough to sharpen Virelia's interest further.

The Felacatian was beginning to stumble. Virelia knew the Nord well enough by now to understand that very little of their local folklore would hold meaningful value to outsiders. They were an intensely isolationist people, unconcerned with the wider galaxy and largely forgotten by it in return. Their stories revolved around bloodlines, harsh winters, drunken tavern disputes, ancient hunts, and the endless struggle against the cold.

Nothing that should have drawn someone like Rayia here.

Which meant, quite plainly, that something was being withheld from her. Rayia was carefully avoiding placing her cards fully upon the table, but Virelia did not mind. In truth, she preferred it this way. Games of restraint always revealed far more about a person than blunt honesty ever could. Every hesitation, every carefully chosen word, every omission—they all painted a clearer picture than confession itself.

And so Virelia allowed the conversation to continue naturally, even as her suspicions deepened.

Together they remained standing amidst the frozen winds of Nordra.

Rayia subtly pulled her cloak tighter around herself against the bitter temperature, while Virelia stood entirely unaffected by the climate. The Tyrant Queen's armor regulated its own internal heat with perfect efficiency, keeping her warm despite the snow gathering across obsidian plating. Comfortable conditions made it much easier to think clearly, to observe, and to dissect the tiny inconsistencies hidden within Rayia's answers.

An unfair advantage, perhaps, but Virelia had never possessed many moral objections to advantages.

From the edge of one of her six violet lenses, she finally spotted the shuttle descending toward the outskirts of the settlement. Black engines cut through the snowfall as it moved toward the designated landing area beyond the clustered stone structures.

Time to leave this desolate little village behind.

Her voice filled the cold air once more.

"I am here because I would never pass up the opportunity to see you again, darling," she said smoothly, almost amused. "Even if it means crossing the coldest and most treacherous mountains on this miserable world."

She allowed the words to settle between them for a moment. Then:

"I think you are worried about me," Virelia continued softly. "About what I might do to you."

She knew that fear well. Everyone carried some measure of it around her. Apprentices. Rivals. Allies. Even those fiercely loyal to her often wondered what Virelia might eventually demand of them, what shape her affection or attention might ultimately take.

And yet, more often than not, they eventually leaned into it willingly. Rayia, she suspected, would be no different. Not immediately, but slowly, carefully. Like shaping heated metal beneath a patient hand.

It had already begun long ago.

"My shuttle is landing just beyond the settlement," Virelia said at last. "You are welcome to join me, if you wish."

Then her voice dipped into something lower, more intimate, carrying that familiar sultry edge once again.

"Besides…" she purred, thumb still resting lightly against Rayia's hand, "I do not bite."

 

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Nordra
Time: Dusk, approximately 8:00pm local time

---

Rayia’s teeth chattered as she contemplated Virelia’s reaction to her not quite fib. Or rather the lack of reaction as cold, weighted silence pressed in. ‘Must be nice in that kriffing suit,’ Rayia thought. She may not have realized the extent of Virelia’s suspicion but she knew enough of the woman standing near her to know silence was never merely that. Already, Rayia imagined the machinations of Serina’s mind spinning furiously.

The soft sound of rumbling thrusters caught Rayia’s ears much as the shudder of the shuttle landing heavily on its support struts caused her tail to bristle. It was here outside the village. Her chariot to who knows where. Rayia mentally shook her head at Virelia’s words. She was fairly certain that they were past invitations. She could feel the bristling click of defense grids slowly funneling her towards the woman who now grasped her hand.

Half jogging to keep up with Virelia’s larger strides, Rayia managed an actual chuckle at her line of reasoning. She wasn’t wrong per se. “Considering the lengths you went to for such an endeavor, I’m a little surprised,” Rayia replied. Not good. Virelia was controlling the entire flow of the meeting and Rayia was off balance. Who could say what she would unintentionally draw Virelia’s eye upon. She needed to shift the focus of conversation quick.

“Where is your halberd? I see it isn’t with you.”

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Unfinished Craftsmanship"

- TAG: Rayia Si

As they made their way through the settlement toward the shuttle, Virelia could not help the soft chuckle that escaped her at the mention of Ebon Requiem.

Rayia's craftsmanship alone was what had elevated the halberd beyond being a mere weapon in Virelia's eyes. The balance, the artistry, the attention woven into every inch of its construction—it carried part of the smith within it. Perhaps that was why Virelia valued it so highly.

Or perhaps why she valued its creator even more.

The question itself, however, was clearly an attempt to throw her off balance. A subtle probe. A test to see how armed the Tyrant Queen truly intended to be during their little reunion. Virelia decided to indulge the game.

"Stored safely away for now," she replied smoothly. "I have no intention of shedding blood today… even if your craftsmanship would make it look exceptionally beautiful."

A low laugh followed beneath the distortion of her vox.

"Besides," she continued, "surprising you while visibly armed sounded potentially dangerous."

Her six violet lenses turned toward Rayia briefly.

"Who knows what ravenous little beast might be hiding beneath all that astonishing fur of yours?"

To Virelia, it was little more than layered metaphor.

Not merely for violence, but for the deeper thing she sensed resting within all—instinct, darkness, hunger, restraint. The part of every living being that wished to abandon control to their betters even while desperately clinging to it. Virelia had spent years coaxing such things to the surface in others, leashing monsters and molding Sith alike beneath her careful hand.

And someone as gifted as Rayia? Worth every ounce of corruptive effort.

The shuttle finally came into full view ahead of them.

Sleek and matte-black, it rested against the snow like some predatory creature crouched amidst the storm. The lowered boarding ramp cast a shield against the harsh winds, warm light spilling faintly out across the ice. No guards stood watch nearby, nor were there any visible within the vessel itself.

Virelia rarely concerned herself much with personal security, not when most threats ended up beneath her eventually.

Stopping just before the ramp, she turned slightly toward Rayia once more. Snow swirled around the pair as the howl of Nordra's wind echoed softly across the settlement behind them.

"I wonder…" Virelia mused aloud.

Her voice carried that familiar, dangerous amusement again.

"Are you more surprised that I allowed you the choice…" she asked, slowly tilting her head, "or disappointed that I still have not bitten you?"

 

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Nordra
Time: Dusk, approximately 8:00pm local time

---

Rayia found small relief in Virelia’s answer. She had not known the woman to be a liar. A manipulator, perhaps. But never directly dishonest. Which meant that Rayia could trust the statement for its worth, at least in the literal sense. No blood would be spilled today. Rayia was not nearly as naive to believe that meant she was safe in Virelia’s clutches. Already, Rayia could feel her claws worming into her very being, rooting out Rayia’s deepest secrets.

“Very wise,” Rayia said, almost immediately grateful for the distraction of the shuttle’s boarding ramp lowering. It gave her a moment to school her expression when Virelia did not appear to grasp how very literal her words were. ‘No, don’t turn towards her. Keep your eyes fixed on the boarding ramp,’ Rayia mentally reminded herself. Her one saving grace was that Virelia herself had named Rayia a Felacatian when they had originally met. Rayia assumed therefore that this was merely more insight into her species. Her astonishment, should it be read, could just be as easily be masked as annoyance.

Rayia shivered again at the sight of the shuttle’s interior. The warm light spilling from illuminating strips inset around the shuttle’s cargo bay doors did little to mask the coldness of its design. Neither did it dissuade the knot coiling in Rayia’s stomach. Unmanned with the exclusion of its pilot and entirely the picture of efficient utilitarianism, it did not fit within its surroundings. Moreover, it somehow felt colder than the wind nipping at Rayia through her fur.

Rayia blinked in response to Virelia’s amused question pausing as she followed her into the shuttle. Her ear cocked, twitching as Rayia tilted her head. Realizing she was going to end up inadvertently answering the question regardless, Rayia settled for the truth. “No, you’re smarter than that. And you’ve always been one to give choices.” The fact those choices were often curated to make sure the things or individuals Virelia liked stayed within her claws was merely the flavor of the day.

What did that say about Rayia then? The Felacatian wasn’t entirely sure she wanted to know.

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Unfinished Craftsmanship"

- TAG: Rayia Si

Virelia could tell Rayia was cold.

The bitter winds, the miserable conditions of Nordra, even the long walk through the settlement—all of it had begun to wear upon the poor Jedi despite her efforts to hide it. The subtle shivers betrayed far more than Rayia likely intended, though Virelia was courteous enough not to immediately call attention to them.

After all, she would vastly prefer the smith remain healthy. What use was there in brilliance made frail by sickness?

Still, Rayia maintained a brave face. Proud or stubborn creature that she was, she seemed entirely unwilling to grant Virelia the satisfaction of openly solving her problems—or perhaps even acknowledging them at all. Instead, she redirected the conversation with a faint compliment toward the Tyrant Queen herself.

That earned the faintest amusement beneath the mask.

Of course Virelia offered choices.

Even when those choices were carefully narrowed. She had long since learned that willing subjects were infinitely easier to shape than unwilling ones. Corruption worked best when the target slowly convinced themselves the path had been their own decision all along. The ideas had to settle naturally, gradually, until acceptance became indistinguishable from desire.

Though admittedly…

Virelia still found immense pleasure in breaking the unwilling.

None of that, however, prevented her from playing rough when the opportunity presented itself. Nor from employing dirty little tricks when they suited her purposes. In truth, she rather enjoyed both.

At last, she stepped onto the shuttle, bringing her newfound catch along with her.

The interior was pleasantly warm compared to the frozen wasteland outside. Designed primarily for military transport across Nordra's brutal terrain, the craft favored practicality over luxury, yet the controlled heat and low ambient lighting created an atmosphere far more soothing than the howling blizzard beyond the ramp. It was not Virelia's private shuttle—merely one of many operating throughout this icy world—but it served its purpose well enough.

As the ramp sealed shut behind them, the shrieking winds vanished almost instantly.

Virelia allowed herself the comfort of taking a seat along one side of the transport. The interior remained distinctly military in design: reinforced metal plating, harness straps, hard seating bolted directly into the walls. She preferred such things more than most realized.

Crossing her legs slightly, she finally looked toward Rayia once more before speaking.

"Rayia," she began smoothly, "you are going to have to be a little more specific about what exactly you want."

A soft chuckle escaped her.

"Besides, darling…" Her voice lowered with familiar amusement. "I am only here to help."

 

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Interior cabin of shuttle

---

Pride and stubbornness being equal aspects of Rayia, Virelia’s assessment of her wasn’t entirely incorrect. Though in this case, Rayia told herself there was logic to her reasoning. The Felacatian had ways to deal with the cold. Yet, one was impractical and another revealed more to her present company than she wanted. And so, Rayia forced herself to suffer through it. At least until she was led through the shuttle to its main cabin.

Rayia was not at all surprised to see that her initial estimate of the shuttle’s design was accurate. Durasteel seating and harnesses designed more for brief stints than extended stays. Which suited Rayia just fine, truth be told. Shaking herself dry, and thereby spraying droplets of water over much of her vicinity, Rayia reached into the crimson satchel she carried at her waist. Withdrawing a comb of fine bone, she began to delicately run it through the fluffy, voluminous fur of her tail as she took a seat. Though simple and worn from the appearance of the teeth, it was polished to a glossy sheen that indicated it was well loved. If Rayia didn’t act now however, the moisture and warmth would cause her fur to frizz. That would hardly do at all. Such was the price to pay to maintain the Felacatian’s most sensitive sensory organ.

Separated from Virelia by the tail she draped over the armrest into the seat between them, Rayia hummed in thought as she combed through a knot. Sighing, she reluctantly admitted, “Very well. If you must know, I am looking for remains. One of my people is said to be interred somewhere within this system.” Not technically a fib, though not the whole truth either.

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Unfinished Craftsmanship"

- TAG: Rayia Si

It was, admittedly, rather strange for Virelia to find herself in such company.

Normally, the passengers aboard these cold, utilitarian shuttles belonged to her world—soldiers, officers, apprentices, acolytes, creatures already woven into the machinery of her growing dominion. Outsiders rarely crossed the threshold willingly, much less someone like Rayia.

And yet here she was.

The Felacatian settled herself into the shuttle with a casual ease that contrasted sharply against the grim military interior. After shaking loose the snow gathered upon her cloak and fur—scattering droplets of melted ice across the compartment, several of which struck harmlessly against Virelia's armor—Rayia chose a seat that left precisely one empty space between them.

Virelia noticed immediately.

Then came the tail.

Rayia draped it carefully across the empty seat and began tending to it with delicate precision, producing a small comb carved from polished bone. Every motion carried patience and familiarity, the practiced ritual of someone who took immense pride in maintaining herself properly. The fur was groomed with near obsessive care, each stroke measured and deliberate.

It fascinated Virelia far more than it should have. A tiny crack through which so many other desires could eventually be reached.

Her thoughts were already spiraling through possibilities when Rayia finally offered the explanation Virelia had sought from the very beginning.

An interned Felacatian upon Nordra.

Now that was interesting, almost suspiciously so.

But it explained enough to satisfy Virelia for the moment. Why else would Rayia travel willingly to such a desolate, frozen wasteland if not to pursue something deeply personal? Stories of the lost and forgotten had always drawn people like them eventually.

And Virelia herself had always possessed a particular fascination with the damned.

Such places were fertile ground for the Dark Side. Ancient tragedies, forgotten secrets, abandoned graves—all of them left impressions upon the Force that lingered long after civilizations had collapsed into dust.

Virelia leaned back slightly in her seat, considering the implications.

"And what was so significant about this person," she mused aloud, "that their story survived long enough to be passed down, I wonder?"

Her gaze drifted downward once more toward Rayia's tail as the comb moved through pristine fur.

"Pretty, darling," she remarked smoothly. "You are going to make me jealous."

A faint amusement touched her features before she continued.

"Is your species always so meticulous in maintaining itself? I feel many across this galaxy could learn from such discipline."

Then, slowly, Virelia raised her gauntleted hands toward her helmet.

A sharp hiss escaped the armor as internal pressure seals released. The six-eyed mask disengaged and lifted free, revealing her face beneath before she carefully rested the helm beside her waist. Blonde hair framed striking blue eyes now fixed fully upon Rayia.

Beautiful, unfairly so, perhaps.

Even the Dark Side had failed to rob Virelia of that particular advantage, though many had likely prayed it would. Glossed lips curved faintly as she studied the Felacatian openly now, making no effort to hide the fact that she had very intentionally chosen to look her best tonight.

For Rayia.

"I must admit," she said softly, "I am rather interested in where this journey of yours may lead."

The shuttle rumbled faintly as it cut through the mountain storms outside.

"Once we arrive at CENTCOM high within the mountains, I will arrange supplies and whatever resources may prove useful. If your ancestor truly existed here, then perhaps we can track down what became of them."

Then that familiar sultry cadence returned to her voice once more.

"Of course…" she purred, "CENTCOM possesses many facilities that may appeal to you, darling."

A devilish smile touched her lips now.

"I still cannot quite believe you came willingly." Her eyes narrowed slightly with amusement. "Do you have any idea what I usually do to beautiful things that catch my interest?"

 

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Interior cabin of transport shuttle

---

It was nearly impossible for Rayia not to notice that Virelia’s attention was fixed upon her. Nothing particularly unusual in regards to that. Rayia had faced such stares before, lingering eyes unable to pull away from the sight of her fastidious routine. On occasion, people had even attempted to touch her tail without permission, earning a baleful glare from those golden, feline eyes. Given their tail was a Felacatian’s most sensitive sensory organ, earning the right to touch it was a massive display of trust.

“The smart ones do,” Rayia responded to Virelia’s query regarding if other members of her species were equally as involved with maintaining their appearance.

Those fine hairs with their metallic sheen quivered and bristled in the wake of Virelia’s movements. Ferrying the vibrations to Rayia’s nervous system to be interpreted as they rippled. Thus Rayia paused, sensing Virelia removing her helmet. Golden eyes glanced upwards, studying Virelia’s face intently. It was the first time the woman had removed her helmet in front of her. Glossy, smooth skin. Noting the blue eyes, Rayia’s fingers twitched as she saw those pristine locks. She had been expecting mussed hair, crammed within the confines of the helmet. Slicked with perspiration in the way that tended to happen when you placed so much volume into so small a space. She pulled back, hesitating only a moment before switching her attention to the tawny, auburn gold mane of hair cascading down her back. ‘Was I really about to offer-?’

Rayia eventually circled round to Virelia’s initial question regarding the Felacatian interred on the planet. “No clue. The fact that there are even rumors of their presence here is a mystery.” Rayia’s people did not like to travel much. Not that she was planning on revealing that to Virelia.

Rayia’s lips twitched with the ghost of a smirk at the genuine surprise in Virelia’s tone. She wondered how she should respond to that. Eventually, she settled on something she thought might make Virelia laugh. “Well, if my experience is anything to go by, it starts by following them to their home and waxing poetic about metallurgy and smithery.”

 

[Darth Virelia]

"Unfinished Craftsmanship"

- TAG: Rayia Si

Rayia was teasing her now? Oh, she would be waxing poetically, certainly, just perhaps not about smithing anymore.

For the first time since stepping aboard the shuttle, Virelia let out a genuine laugh.

It was an unexpectedly soft sound, bright and utterly unguarded. For a fleeting moment, the carefully constructed image of the Tyrant Queen cracked, revealing something older beneath the armor, titles, and calculated elegance. It sounded less like Darth Virelia and more like the young woman she had once been—Serina Calis before the galaxy had sharpened her into a weapon.

The laugh lingered only briefly before settling into a genuine smile. It had been far too long since she had enjoyed company like this. Far too long since conversation had felt effortless rather than strategic.

The matter of Rayia's ancestor could wait. The mysteries of Nordra would still be there tomorrow.

For now, Serina found herself wanting to simply enjoy the rare luxury of another person's presence. Such moments had become increasingly scarce throughout the years. Power had a way of isolating people. Every relationship became transactional. Every conversation became a negotiation. Every kindness became suspect.

Rayia, for all her evasiveness, somehow managed to sidestep that. Perhaps that was why Serina found her so fascinating.

Her eyes wandered thoughtfully toward the Felacatian once more, first to Rayia herself, then to the tail, then back up again.

An increasingly mischievous expression appeared on her face. A dangerous idea had just entered her head.

"Girl," she said at last, shaking her head slightly, "do you have any idea how badly I want to touch that thing?"

The confession escaped her with almost comical sincerity, as she sighed dramatically.

"It has absolutely no right to look that fluffy."

Her gaze drifted toward the meticulously groomed tail again.

"Honestly, if it were practical, I would probably decorate half my wardrobe with material that looked that pretty."

Then she pointed accusingly toward the offending appendage.

"It is deeply unfair, and I would like that formally acknowledged."

 

[Rayia Si]

Darth Virelia
Location: Interior cabin of shuttle transport

---

Rayia’s ears quirked at the sound of Virelia laughing. No… Serina laughing. Somehow, the melodious noise carried with it a sense of authenticity. An echo of who the woman sitting near her was, now that she had shed her guard. Rayia was surprised to admit that an altogether sizable part of her enjoyed the sound. She decided she liked seeing the way the shell that Serina had been forced to throw up cracked. It was a pity that Serina felt she even needed this shell in the first place, especially around her.

Rayia doubted she could unmake the shell entirely. ‘Cast steel tends to set.’ But…reforging it in some small ways? It couldn’t hurt to try. And so it was that Rayia found herself grinning back at Serina when she spotted that genuine smile. At least until she was blindsided by the question Serina decided to voice right at that very moment.

Rayia could feel her heart pounding in her ears. She fought the flush of red that spread across her cheeks. ‘Stay calm, Rayia. She…probably doesn’t know what she’s asking. She wouldn’t have the context. Would she?’ It had been Virelia who had named her a Felacatian at their first meeting. The possibility wasn’t entirely improbable.

Suppressing the modicum of stiffness that had entered her frame, Rayia chuckled awkwardly as Serina chided her on the fluffiness of her tail and proclaimed she should apologize. Thinking on it, Serina had provided the shuttle, and had apparently promised shelter as well. Rayia began to genuinely feel a knot of guilt working its way into her gut. Scratching the back of her head with the claws of her left hand, Rayia dipped her head apologetically. “I’m very sorry-“

Pausing as she realized that Serina was likely messing with her…again, Rayia began to grin even as she kept her head bowed. “Yes, I deeply apologize that the luxuriousness of my tail has offended you so. Please let me know how I can make it up to you.”