Private Hello, Throneworld

[Arris Windrun]

THRONEWORLD
Srina Talon
​

Arris had returned from Corellia - a little detour that didn't do her much good when Mercy was still recovering from Humbarine, because it meant one thing for Windrun:

Business.

Always.

More.

"Business," Arris breathed.

Through the glass, her eyes looked on the curve of the Coruscanti atmosphere, as the skylift carried her up to the gaudy, orbital monstrosity that Mercy called Throneworld.

When she stepped off the lift, the gargantuan skyhook responded to her presence immediately. Some sophisticated automation that Mercy reckoned would give her - and all those she wished - a certain level of impulsive control over the complex and its many, many systems; as if the technopath needed that in the first place. Though... It was all surface-level stuff. Millions of slaves still toiled to make it all work.

"Gross," all of it was gross. She was still just whispering to herself.

The cyborg marched down the grand concourse, which wrapped around the central structure, joining other massive corridors connecting the various wings and towers.

Oh yeah. Arris had changed since the last time Mercy (or anyone else, for that matter) had seen her. Traded blonde for black, ponytail for bob, and dropped the pretense of wearing flesh to hide the extensive modifications. How many times had someone asked, or just outright assumed, she was a fancy HRD? Too many. Still wore a face, though. Synthflesh and skin that ended where the jaw and neck met. Everything else? Black metal, fibers, and flexible armor plating. Might've looked like a battlesuit at a glance.

It took her a long time, too many steps, to reach the place where Mercy rested. Arris had passed trams and speeders, ignoring every insistence from the synaptic connection that the station could ease her journey if she just let it. As if it really, really wanted her to fall into the sand trap of Mercy's decadence.

But when Arris had nearly arrived, a woman was standing in the hall. It took her a few seconds to process who she was. "Oh. Hello..." Empress? Mercy's Friend? Just... Hello.

For now.

 

[Srina Talon]

LOCATION: Throneworld
TAG: Arris Windrun

For a moment, the pale woman didn't look up from the encrypted datapad that she held. It was her lifeline back to Jutrand while her Dark Councilors argued about the fate of the Order in her absence. They were remarkable in their opinions. Less forthcoming when it came to sensible decisions that benefited the whole rather than a sum of parts. Hawkish eyes lifted from the glowing screen and settled on the cybernetically enhanced creature for longer than what might have been socially appropriate.

It took Echani eyes longer than she wanted to admit to place the changed features.

"Hello, Arris."

Srina's presence seemed almost unreal against the polished corridor, soft as snowfall, and no less cold. The way she spoke the name of the dark-haired human implied some level of knowing that wouldn't necessarily make sense. They hadn't really spoken despite her twice-over efforts to secure victory for the Sith Covenant. Both on Coruscant—And now cursed Humbarine. "I was beginning to wonder how Mercy would recover without her favorite source of aggravation…"

The words might have seemed harsh, but there was something beneath them that resembled partiality. A ghostly smile pressed by the kiss of her mouth so swiftly it might have never existed at all.

"My sister is resting. Against her will, which means she is insufferable…But I can be very convincing."

There was something strangely gentle in the way she said it, despite the darkness that lingered beneath every word. She let the data bad close down on itself before folding it into the hidden pocket in her clothing, whilst turning slowly. "Come…", her tone was decisive, with long white hair spilling over her shoulder like moonlight. Golden eyes lingered on the black metal of Arris Windrun that was more pronounced than she remembered, without judgment or surprise.

Mercy was every bit the collector that she was, arranging things around herself, from monsters to warlords to broken things, trying very hard not to be. "Let us not wake her."

The last thing she wanted was for her battle-sister to rediscover an attitude problem while still attached to medical equipment. The Titan would rip it out just to prove a point. To show that she wasn't weak and didn't need any of it, to ensure that everyone knew the Core Empress was almighty and unstoppable. Only…That wasn't quite true. Even with the flippant and grandiose statements she made about the Field of Blades…They all had their limits. Humbarine had pressed her battle-sister as close to that limit as Srina had ever seen.

The Echani stepped softly to the side, then, confident and sure-footed.

She looked pristine among the Graspborn, out of place, but the Throneworld…Did not react as if she were merely a guest in foreign space. The Daughter of the Six Sisters had always owned any space she entered, head held high, a little warrior queen before any titles had ever been uttered.

One elegant hand raised and gestured toward a corridor that led to a sitting space and private kitchens where they might find some sort of refreshment. Srina had been on the floating palace long enough to know where all the good tea and treats were kept. "You have traveled far—Have you not?"

Her words were an invitation…But was there really an option? Delicate eyebrows drew together slightly before her face eased of any emotion and her wintry expression settled. There was a trace of exhaustion before it vanished with everything else...Leaving only perfection behind.

"Sit with me a while...I would…Enjoy the company."

 

[Arris Windrun]

Srina Talon
​

The Empress's response startled her, though Arris wasn't one to show the contents of her heart on the surface. Call it a lack of nerves; literally. But in the Force, she was a volatile cocktail: hate for herself, fear for others, and the kind of sadness that rendered one empty. Her presence in the Force... the way the Dark Side touched her... was more like it would an entity, or a Sithspawn, gorging on the wealth of her emotions, whether she wanted it or not. Had there been any organic flesh on the surface, the corruption would've been an ugly sight.

"I was beginning to wonder how Mercy would recover without her favorite source of aggravation…"

Her eyes flicked past the Empress for a moment.

Arris considered a response, but then the woman urged the cyborg to leave Mercy to her rest and beckoned her to follow. She hesitated for a moment, not even meeting the eyes that lingered on her, before finally acquiescing.

In contrast to her, Arris wasn't one to dominate spaces. She was more like soft lighting, shy to even cast a shadow, but there, present, all-consuming in its passivity. Something to be noticed by choice.

She followed the Empress into an area of Throneworld she hadn't been before. It was... quaint. Yes, that felt appropriate.

The question caught Arris on her back foot, unsure if it was pointed or just making small talk. "Not really - I just came from the Empty." Which wasn't strictly the truth, but she wasn't particularly inclined to discuss her recent detour in the aftermath of Humbarine.

The cyborg took a deep breath and sat at a small parlor table fit for two. "I'm not sure you'll appreciate my company..."

She paused for a moment. "Actually, what do I call you? I don't think I've heard Mercy refer to you as anything except sister and 'Blackwall Empress' when she's feeling fancy."

 

[Srina Talon]

LOCATION: Throneworld
TAG: Arris Windrun

The silvery woman moved fluidly to interact with the cabinets with precision, as if she knew exactly where everything was without looking. The area was made for comfort and functionality rather than sheer opulence, which seemed to be the exact opposite of everything Thronworld stood for. It was connected to another room with wooden doors that had opaque sheets covering a lattice framework. There was a painting on it in blank ink, depicting a sliver of moon, overlooking a large cliff with a lake and forest beneath it. It was tranquil...

Not at all like the Graspborn that had flooded the floating palace in droves the moment the Star-Arm returned. “Really. You return from the Empty...”, Srina breathed, light as a feather, but there was something within the Echani that seemed to express an overly exacting sense of awareness. As if she knew more than she let on, but respected the present company enough not to pry without necessity. She considered words to be an inferior form of communication that held about as much weight as sunlight...It was the young Sith Lord she watched.

Preferring to listen with her eyes rather than her ears.

"I'm not sure you'll appreciate my company..."

“No? Why would I not?”

It amused her that Mercy had given almost the same response, but there was no offense taken at the possible dismissal. Only, quiet curiosity. She pulled down two porcelain teacups and a manual kettle that she filled with water. Most would have simply made a drink with the shining auto-chef that sat nearby, but Arris would note that the pale woman gave it a wide berth. She set it on the burner before returning to the small table to begin to set it. It was methodical...First matching saucers, then teacups, then silverware on soft cloth napkins. The mention of “Blackwall Empress” drew a soft sigh from somewhere deep in her chest.

“I have accumulated far too many titles over the years. They are useful in council chambers. In war. Less so..over a cup of tea.”

For the first time since Arris had arrived, something genuinely warm, human, touched the kiss of her mouth. It was the slightest edge of a ghostly smile that was there and gone in an instant. It would almost seem as if she had forgotten how. She was so many things, to so many people, that she often forgot that some...Didn’t know her at all. “You may call me Srina.”

She didn’t insist on Empress, Eternal Mother, Darth Omnia, Silver Dragon, Worldbreaker...Or any other long, long list that had unfortunately been burned into her memory. Instead, the white-haired woman turned toward the cooler and retrieved several items, only stopping to wash her hands. “...Do you eat?”

It might have seemed like a strange question, but in their world, some who seemed more automaton than flesh and bone actually had their stomachs removed. They received nutrition elsewhere or replaced it with power sources. Rather than waiting for a response, the cold woman began to slice bread and add meat, cheese, and a little leafy greens to it. Thoughtfully...After Mercy had nearly choked to death on how dry her sandwich was, she placed a few condiments to the side. Srina could do many things, but her culinary prowess was extremely limited. She had learned how to feed her children, as a mother should, but her repertoire was still regulated to cold dishes, raw, or burnt toast, and bland soup.

The moment she added fire to food, things tended to go terribly, terribly wrong.

Srina cut the sandwich diagonally before setting it down in front of Arris. It seemed plain...So she moved toward a basket to pick up an apple, and neat slices would eventually find their way onto a small plate nearby. “I haven’t been back to Jutrand since Humbarine...”

“The High Republic may soon come to my doors, but that has yet to pass. I did not want to be far from the Covenant if the Mandalorians chose to escalate after they were...Evicted. Not with Mercy...”

Hurt.

Metallic golden eyes swept the table for a moment, and her brow came together in silent thought. In a form of survivor's guilt that could never reach the surface. No Empress, no Echani, could afford to let the truth of their weakness show. Mercy had accidentally killed her on Coruscant and now did everything she could to make up for it. Essentially, dying for one another. She breathed in and, rather than dwell on her thoughts, returned focus to Arris.

“I trust that you have not neglected yourself entirely...In the Empty...Are you well?”

 

[Arris Windrun]

Srina Talon
​

The way the Empress questioned her... whether she would be good company, that is... amused Arris a little. The cyborg would be caught smiling. Just barely.

"Srina," she murmured the name as if committing it to memory.

Then, the Echani asked Arris if she ate. That earned a more noticeable smile than before, followed by a dry chuckle. "I do," she replied. "Many people mistake me for an android, but my stomach is organic. So is my brain... but not much else."

Her smile vanished. When had she explained herself so easily to anyone before? As small talk, no less! Were it not for the strange, disarming comfort in Srina's presence, Arris might have panicked and run off at this point. Hell, she wanted to. But something kept her seated in that chair.

With the sandwich placed before her, Arris collected one half and brought it to her mouth, taking a bite. She chewed slowly. And at no point did her expression indicate displeasure. Though it might've been said - whether or not Srina realized - that a cyborg had control over many things. At the end of the day, taste was a chemical process. Signals relayed to the mind. And Windrun's taste profile had been modified so she could stomach anything. Literally. Even spoiled meat wasn't off the table.

When Srina mentioned the High Republic, however, Arris leaned forward with a hint of hostility. "I hate the Republic." The declaration came easy to her. "If you need a gun..." Her words trailed off, replaced by consideration when Srina explained that she wanted to be there for Mercy, in case the stranger Mandalorians attacked again.

She knew the two shared close bonds, but it was odd to see someone who cared for Mercy. Actually cared. Even Arris, her 'best friend' as Mercy would put it, had very complicated feelings about the woman.

But then the cyborg had to double-take when that concern was levied against her. "I..."

She was already spinning a lie.

"I'm fine. I take care of myself." Liar.

"But really, Srina. I don't offer much, but if you need a fighter, I'm your gal."

She was selling herself short, of course. But it wasn't an act of humility. Despite being the one behind the Covenant's strategy in Tapani, the Core, and more recently Humbarine, she considered herself little more than a foot soldier. Sith Lord she may've been, Arris Windrun never stopped being a street rat from Talus. The thing that came most naturally to her was service. Violent service.

 

[Srina Talon]

LOCATION: Throneworld
TAG: Arris Windrun

"I hate the Republic."

The words were a sentiment that echoed through many of her Dark Councilors, but the wintry Echani had no visible reaction. Her elegant brow came together in thought for a moment before it melted into something frighteningly cold. It was impossible to tell if she was angry, happy, sad, or anything other than severe. For that flickering instant she appeared wrong. Too still. Barely human. "The High Republic appears to have become a successor state of the Galactic Alliance no matter what they initially intended. Either that…Or they've become all they tried to get away from. The same self-righteousness, hypocrisy, and politicking.", The words flowed easily, not with damnation, but consideration.

It was likely the same sentiments that many had toward the 11[SUP]th[/SUP] Sith Empire, even though they were known as the Sith Order. Srina was often blamed for the sins of the 10[SUP]th,[/SUP] even though she'd barely been more than a slip of a woman when the worst of it happened and on the other side of the galaxy. That didn't make her observation any less true, however. "I suppose that a Sith should not condemn for hypocrisy…"

She paused, and the ghost of a smile tugged at her lips. There and gone in an instant.

"But if they begin to pose a threat to my children…I will strike first. They have already tried to corner my daughter, despite legally acting on the interests of Eshan. They cannot be trusted. It is not a matter of if the Sith Order will go to war—But when."

The Echani filled the silence while Arris ate, offering words that should have chilled blood. The Empress of the Blackwall choosing to go on the offensive was no small thing. She was a creature of pragmatism and logic, who acted based on her own warped sense of justice rather than pure vengeance or hatred. She was her own form of law—believing that most couldn't be trusted to make necessary or correct choices.

Humbarine was a perfect example. She had brought the sky down on beskar-clad invaders without a second thought for the "civilians" that might get caught in the crossfire. Srina had come to root out Imperial-scum that were so deeply embedded in the populace that it was impossible to tell the difference. So—It became a fire sale. All must go…

So that Brosi did not burn a third time.

The Mandalorians….Well, they were just in the way.

"I'm fine. I take care of myself."

Srina did not openly challenge the lie.

She had spent enough of her life around soldiers to know when one had answered on instinct rather than truth. I'm fine. It was the simplest shield ever forged and one of the hardest to break without doing unnecessary harm. It was especially difficult because they barely knew one another outside of their base connections with Mercy. While that bridged many gaps…It did not solve all ills. With that in mind—She quietly let it be.

Graceful hands plucked up an ivory teacup when the kettle began to whine, and she moved swiftly to stifle the sound. Even though the Core Empress was resting far enough away that it shouldn't wake her, the giantess had a habit of hearing things she should not. It was already a game of how well Srina could realistically threaten with a homegrown side of guilt to keep the woman in bed and off her feet. "I have no doubt that you are capable…"

Mercy did not favor people who were anything less than gifted and talented in their chosen craft. All things had their place.

"But that was not quite what I asked."

But Arris already knew that, of course. Srina quietly filed away the information about the woman's cybernetically altered form, mostly for battlefield purposes. It wasn't an intentional habit, but her Echani mind had a way of parsing information, taking people, and turning them into a series of scenarios that directly related to their wartime potential. It was the tactical side of her, the strategist, but it was the mother in her that kept the rest.

The offer to fight for her cause…

"I may take you up on that…But what shall I provide you in return?"

Srina's head tilted while she started to pour boiling water into her cup and let the tea steep. There were other beverages, beer, for instance, that the Empress did not touch, but it wasn't for her, and she wasn't sure which thing Arris might prefer. Her hand moved lazily, and the cooler opened and out marched a few options that hung neatly in the air for her guest to choose from. When done, they put themselves away, but the pale woman was still contemplating the previous conversation. "If Throneworld is anything to go by, the Covenant does not want for credits…"

When her tea was cool enough, just barely, she lifted it and took a sip.

"...Or ships. I am afraid, I am at a loss."

 

[Arris Windrun]

Srina Talon
​

Arris visibly perked up when Srina mentioned her - albeit brief - thoughts on the High Republic. It was refreshing to get an opinion that wasn't so basic as: jedi = kill.

It was interesting to hear her describe the Sith as her children. She wondered if that meant all Sith, but she did not ask, and really she didn't feel the need to. Looking down at her plate, at the nearly finished second half of the sandwich now crumbling in her hand... Well, some things were just self-evident.

But hey. Some things deserved to be said. To the eyes of Arris Windrun - Srina was a force of nature. A rule in the cosmos. Odd to her that it manifested as 'Mother of the Sith,' but then again, 'Mother' was an alien concept to Arris, who grew up on the streets of Talus, conscripted into the violent syndicate structure the day they declared she was old enough to carry her own weight.

She leaned back in her chair when Srina quietly called out her deflection.

Maybe Arris expected a lecture. Who knows. What she didn't expect was quid pro quo. The cyborg was suddenly less shy, revealing a toothy grin as suddenly the Empress spoke her native tongue.

She was right to say that the Covenant didn't need credits. Despoiling the Core Worlds had obvious benefits. She was right again to say they didn't need ships. Humbarine, Kuat, Fondor, Fresia, and N'Zoth provided the Covenant with a shipbuilding monopoly.

"Yeah - materiel doesn't interest us." She said.

Windrun had to think about it, though, even with an inkling of her ask. She always found it better to get a rolling start on things.

"So. I learned something ever since Mercy, and I started this little show. She was never the practical decision maker, but I'm sure that doesn't surprise you. She knew what she wanted, but I was the one who found the ways to get us there. Tapani... Sure, she might talk about it as some great project, killing nobles and replacing them with commoners, or whatever. But it was just a bank robbery, y'know? We had to pay for the war somehow."

And then even during the Core, while Mercy led the charge on Coruscant, it was Arris and Meliant that sealed the deal. Treachery of both kinds. One where a Dark Side Elite exchanged coats, throwing the gates open, and the other where Arris impersonated Solipsis, turning the Empire's cult-like obedience into a self-destruct switch.

Both campaigns - Tapani and the Core - rotted deep inside her. Crimes that could never quite be punished. Because even execution wouldn't change a thing.

There was a pause. Her smile faded. It may've been obvious in the Force and body language that Arris felt guilt. Though it wasn't as immense anymore.

Finally, she looked back up from the floor and made eye contact.

"But I said I learned something, yeah? None of this success made a genius of me. I'm incompetent. Truly," she chuckled again. "A girl from the gutter does not make a great general... But I think I got good instincts. And when I talk with you, when Mercy talks about you, my instincts are telling me one thing. Most people are incompetent. The whole machine runs on incompetency fuel... But you... You ain't incompetent, are you? Does it make you miserable? To realize the machine will always fight you, the one thing that actually makes it run better?"

She sighed and realized she sucked at making a point. But better than rambling on, she waited to hear what the Empress had to say first, because her actual answer to Srina's question hinged on it.