Heavy Falls the Crown

[Dissero]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Wild Space[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Dreadlady Sable’s Flagship [/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Location Unknown[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Present Day[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Was it necessary to hold me prisoner for this?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Darkness had been his life for some time now. A small cell on a bleak ship that had long since lost its infamy to greater people, greater things. How long he’d been there Dissero couldn’t be sure. It had felt like days, weeks perhaps - he hoped only the former but his gut told him it wasn’t the case. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Hapes was a long way from...wherever it was they were now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“There was no way to confirm the ring’s ability until its use. I had to be sure.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Sure of what?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“That you did not betray me.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Pale green eyes watched him from behind a darkened cowl, a face no longer displayed to the world for the corruption he knew hidden beneath. He could make out the black veins surrounding those eyes, the tinge of yellow where once they were white. Even her voice had changed - such was her inescapable connection to the Dark Side. Fated by the Force, she’d said to him some time ago.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“And if I had?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]She did not answer but he felt the presence of the Dreadlady’s husband somewhere off to his right. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“It worked then?”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Yes,”[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] she said, drumming the fingers of her blackened right hand along the armrest of her throne, there the Master Ring glimmered at him, teasing for its power. He wanted to know the story and yet … it disturbed him to know that he was still part of such heinous deeds. He could never tell Verie. Never.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I will not lament never seeing your precious trinket again,”[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] Sable tossed another gleaming item to the floor at his feet and he bent to pick it up. The Traveler’s Locket fell into the palm of his hand, warm and agitated. It never liked being leased out. [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]“Nor the loss of Silva Talith, though Hapes will rue the name for centuries to come. No Talith will be welcome there again.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“What did you do…” he thought of his family, of the extended Talith children that could have, might have enjoyed the beauties of Hapes in their own time. Would that their name be stricken from all records, none of them would mourn this loss. But to be blacklisted, perhaps even hunted, and never understand why?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]They would one day, maybe.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“...nevermind, I don’t want to know.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“But you will[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px].”[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] Her shadow was upon him, blackened fingers and the cold chill of the Master ring encompassing his scalp. Dissero grimaced as the images flooded in.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~[/SIZE]
2 Weeks Prior
Hapes


[SIZE=14.6667px]Painted lips. Golden hair. A custom fitted red gown that obstructed her breathing. Staring in the mirror of her transport, Silva Talith looked on impassively as she applied the last bit of rouge to her cheeks. The occupational hazards of playing at Moridin’s game were nothing compared to the degradation she’d endured during her time spent on Hapes as the Lady Talith, heiress to the royal throne. One of many. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Quietly she slipped the Traveler’s Locket beneath the bustline of her dress, pulling a golden chain and pendant over top gifted to her years prior by the Queen Mother herself. The Hapan Court was one of deceit, no different than any other, but the Hapan Courtesans were some of the most lecherous, conniving people she’d ever met.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]And she grew up with Sith.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]A streak of silver crossed the royal Hapan skies, descending upon the Palace in the waning hours of the day. Lady Talith’s transport set down within the hangar, greeted by an entourage of Royal Guards.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Lady Talith, the Queen Mother bids you a most warm welcome. We had feared the worst for you after the fall of Byss to the Sith. To hear of your continued safety and health is most relieving.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“My husband spared no expense to see me out safely. I lament my losses. Byss had great promise.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“The Queen will receive you for dinner. Allow me to take you to your room.”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]@Persephone Callais[/SIZE]

 

[Lana Carde]

[member="Dissero"]


The Fountain Palace
Hapes
Present Day

---

“Our Most Revered Ereneda is dead.”

Few of the Queen Mother’s royal court would know of the wasting sickness that seemed to have taken the Queen. It had come fast and hard, much to the suspicion of those who were close to her. Few would know the truth; or at least, the version of a truth that would be spread in order to promote their own political agenda.

The former Senator of Hapes, Duch’a Callas of Selab, stood quietly in the wake of the news. Her thumb and forefinger would rub against each other, her aquamarine eyes peering out beyond the ornate window towards the gardens of the Fountain Palace.

“Has the Royal physician established a cause of death?”

“...There is a thought at a potential rare disease….”

Those aquamarine eyes shot over towards the man. “ Come now, what rare disease would take our beloved Queen from us so quickly and not affect others?”

A thought drew to her then.

“Lady Talith?” one of the many heiresses to the throne. One that Persephone needed out of the picture...

“Gone, your grace.” a pause.

Persephone’s lips gave a subtle twitch. Of course.

 

[Sadie Nova]

Hapes
Two weeks prior.

The room was lavish as it was contrived to provide an outlandish measure of luxury along with subtle bits of observation. Hapans were ever a conniving ambitious lot. Plots against the royal house and each other were the norm. Expecting a room to not be bugged was a rather foolish thought.

“I hope that this is to your liking, Lady Talith.” the attendant would state, opening the double doors wide with a flourish. It was an expansive suite. Aurodium plated amenities and wind crystal chandeliers. This wing of the palace was decorated in corseca reds, vivid emeralds, and framed with hand carved body-wood and velmstone sculptures.

Certainly it was far too large for one woman, but it would not be unoccupied for long.

“Lady Talith,” a new voice would call from the corridor. Dressed in a bright red and gold corseted brocade, the Duch’a of Selab, the Queen’s advisor would quietly and cordially amble towards the Talith. Her hair was coiffed in becoming waves, falling from a half up do decorated with emeralds. A wide gold and emerald necklace bordered her modest cleavage, and that unlined face carefully enhanced with dark kohl lined eyes, coral rogue, and a bright red bow mouth.

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

 

[Quietus]

The Lady Silva Talith entered the estate with a chill surrounding her reminiscent of the frozen tundras of Hoth. She spoke to no one, made eye contact with no one, and carried with her the aire of a Queen wronged and silently furious. It wasn't far from the truth nor, expressed by the murmurs and whispers rippling through the Court in her wake, was it wholly unexpected. The Queen of Byss - though a horrifically ugly planet if ever there were one under the scrutiny of a Hapan - unjustly threatened by the Sith and chased from her rightful place of power. Hunted, then, for many years until evasion lead them to Wild Space. There, presumably, she'd been forced to live upon a ship.

Not just any ship, a warship. Nothing luxurious about it.

How terrible.

"Do not speak to me unless spoken to," the scathing tone was hushed as she shot a molten glare at the Attendant, a male, before turning to the arrival of another woman. Her gaze did not warm nor soften. The disdain for the woman's opulence would not be missed. Silva had been touted for her beauty but often and privately derided for her lack of decoration. Her fashion was not of Hapan origins either, but of the sleek and militial tastes of Byss. A well-oiled fortress world, a war machine, a planet ruled by martial law under the Monarchy could not afford for the ostentatious when there were defenses to manage and soldiers to outfit.

Silva briefly imagined this woman and her beautiful outfit being shredded in a hail of mortar shrapnel. How quickly fire would devour the tulle of her dress and melt that painted face...

A gentle inhale broke the haze of malice forming around her like an unseen fog. The green of her eyes glinted as deep as the emeralds within the stranger's ensemble.

"Apologies," said Silva, turning to face the woman fully, "eight years of hiding from pursuers has ruined my social etiquette," she took several steps forward, expression of unyielding stone, "as well as my knowledge of current Hapan court affairs. Who do I have the pleasure of greeting?"

 

[Lana Carde]

[member="Dissero"]

There were always little bits of cues and clues one could pluck from the actions of others. All the more for what had not been said as well. Hapan culture demanded a measure of courtesy and proper etiquette; However, that did not mean that the gesture was anything more than superficial.

Every Hapan had their own agenda, as did every noble house. No one would publically admit it, but they were very well aware of it and perhaps, even expected it. A real Hapan born noblewoman would have her own elaborate plans to rise above her station or gain more power, all the while ensuring that not a single finger would be pointed in her direction at the end of it.

Of course, that didn't mean there weren't exceptions to the norm.

"No apology necessary, Lady Talith," Persephone would reply, keeping her voice cordial and pleasant.

"I apologize for the interruption, but I am here to personally welcome you upon your return to the Consortium." she'd add, her hands lightly set in front of her waist. "As well as extend an invitation to dinner with Ereneda."

 

[Quietus]

There was a saying on Hapes, something akin to You can take the Lady away from Hapes, but you can never take Hapes away from the Lady. An absurd quip considering the worth of Hapes; Silva might be as beautious as they but Sable knew just how ugly they truly were as a people. She would have no qualms setting this world ablaze.

Silva eyed the woman where she stood, greeting her with practiced cordiality.

A twitch of her lips, the barest ghost of a smile. It lasted less than a blink.

"You have not answered my question," Silva replied shortly, voice flat, "who are you?"

[member="Persephone Callas"]

 

[Lana Carde]

“I am Persephone Callas, Duch’a of Selab.” the redhead introduced herself along with another formal curtsy. There were standards to upkeep and all. Rising to her feet, the Hapan lady’s aquamarine eyes studied the woman with what appeared to be cordial pleasantry. Of course, it was always more than that.

If Sable had kept up with Hapan politics, then she would recognize that this was the woman who had been the Senator of Hapes and the voice that spoke to the Queen Mother’s ear. Policy and the stance the Hapes Consortium took had the Duch’a to thank for. From its isolationist platform to its current stance at stepping away from the taint of the Galactic Republic.

[member="Sable"]

 

[Quietus]

"Well met," Silva replied shortly, "Senator Callas."

A briefing had, of course, taken place before her arrival, though Sable could not attest to paying particular attention to the faces so much as the names and roles they held.

"Dinner with Ereneda would be welcome. It has been a very long time since we have spoken. Nearly seven years by my recollection," one year spent unraveling the grasp of Darth Moridin on the galaxy and ending his reign of terror, another five spent in cryostasis to keep his corruption from claiming her, as well. Then, of course, there had been the mishap with the One Sith. Her right hand brushed at her hip where the Truesword normally hung in its scabbard and instead smoothed the material of her dress there.

Silva persisted with a tight and failing smile, giving a glance to her reflection in a nearby full length looking glass, "I have need to find something more appropriate for the dinner hour with the Queen Mother. I am certain everything I own is unapologetically militant and far out of Hapan fashion."

[member="Persephone Callas"]

 

[Lana Carde]

[member="Sable"]

Seven years? Interesting. Tidbits of information Persephone would store away; although she'd already been inquiring on the Lady in question. Time would bring more to the matter but for now, all formalities were to take place. They weren't heathans after all; even if they plotted behind each other's back for ambitious escalations of power.

"If m'lady would like it, I can have my personal dressers visit to provide options for you to wear?" And it would serve as another way to gain information.

"They are quite skilled and fast with their talented fingers."

 

[Quietus]

"That is well, Duch'a," said the Lady Talith with a slow nod, "how much time do we have?"

~~~

Silva stood upon a dressing stand before three floor to ceiling mirrors some time later, blue eyes passively watching the Duch'a's handmaidens buzz about. They were quick, graceful, and every shade of lovely - everything a woman of Hapes should be regardless of her station. They were quick to learn that they were not to touch the Lady Talith's jewelry - one of them might've melted under the glare received when she went to unlatch the hook and loop closure of the choker.

That was given to me by the Queen Mother herself, Silva hissed, and this a priceless family heriloom. They are not to be touched.

"Yes, of course Lady Talith. My deepest apologies. We will not touch them."

And so fastened around her neck they remained.

"Shall we dress you to the color of the amulet?"

Silva looked to her reflection again, lifting a delicate hand to touch at the heirloom piece that hung just between her breasts, "No, I suspect this would be a bit dark."

"The Queen Mother's Gift, then, perhaps?"

"That will do."

"You look so lovely in red, afterall M'Lady."

And so red they dressed her in.

[member="Persephone Callas"]

 

[Lana Carde]

[member="Sable"]

Instead of the red, Persephone was draped in silks of the finest aquamarine vine-silk. A rather extravagant fabric but what was a Hapan Noblewoman other than a walking advertisement of ostentatious wealth and prestige? It was all about setting a point on ones status and position. Every meter gained through ambition and guile was meticulously defended through plastered smiles and flutters of a delicate lace fan.

At ten minutes to the designated time, a knock would echo upon Silva's chamberdoor. It was her escort - as suited for her station of course - set to bring her to the dining room chamber. A proper proclamation of attendance would follow, allowing for the proper introduction.

At the far end would be the Queen Mother herself. Much like the ladies in waiting her attended her, her expression would be shielded. What exactly would this meeting result in?