Private Lifestyles of the Rich and Alchemical

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

NABOO

Much as Ashin had inherited her mother's love of the lake country, the region always struck her as suspiciously perfect. For good and ill, these beautiful waterfront estates concealed all manner of secrets. That was half their charm, in a perverse way. When waterfowl and pleasurecraft and sunlight on the waves failed to satisfy, one could always catch a whiff of upper-class skullduggery beneath the unimpeachably legitimate.

Not that Dissero hadn't legitimately earned his legitimacy as Amadeus Shamalain, professor and family man - but the galaxy's greatest alchemist enjoyed his secrets as much as any Naboo noble for miles.

Ashin pulled her speeder up to the gate of Lethe Meadows. She took note of the tasteful, surreptitious surveillance cameras, at least three of which kept an eye on her. The gate had a callbox.

"Shira Karrde to see Professor Shamalain."

She'd lived as Shira for years in the Unknown Regions; Dissero would recognize the alias.

 

[Dissero]

Shira Karrde, former Empress of the Sith Empire, received an extended boop as greeting from the callbox and a welcoming gesture of the gate slowly swinging open. How the times had changed.

The drive followed a looping curve where two other speeders sat gleaming in the sunlight; one a modern, utilitarian family affair, the other a restored classic timepiece of High Kuatian taste. Half a man hung out the side of the former, the lower half to be exact - pressed slacks and shined shoes. A small blond boy just south of 9 years stood nearby dressed in posh Nabooian school clothes looking red-faced and fretful.

"I don't see it anywhere, are you sure you dropped it in here?" Dissero called out.

The small boy nodded his head, golden hair flipping about his face, "Yeah." There was a whine to his voice that signaled rising levels of impending tears. He wiggled awkwardly on the spot, bleary eyes watching the speeder pull in.

"Alright, alright, I'll keep looking. I -" he heard the speeder, but more importantly he felt the presence of his visitor. Dissero moved to stand and whacked his head on an armrest in the process. Groaning, he shifted to the right and caught sight of what he was looking for, "Hey Bud, go say hi to the lady that just pulled in."

Never one to be shy, the boy walked over to the parked speeder and looked up at Ashin as she exited, "Hi," a blink, "who are you?"

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Dissero

Ashin gave her greeter a double take. In theory she'd known Dissero had a wife and kids, but this clean-cut little humanoid in a school uniform-

All Ashin's children were (on paper) adults. It had been quite a while since she'd interacted with someone this small and innocent. A pang of nostalgia couldn't quite overcome her usual challenges with children.

"Ah...Ashin," she said, entirely forgetting she'd given an alias at the gate. "My name's Ashin. You must be...?" She trailed off, forgetting not just the name but whether she'd ever known the names of Dissero's bountiful progeny.

He looked distressed, which made her slightly uncomfortable. She brightened at the sight of Dissero's legs protruding from the speeder.

"Professor Shamalain?" she said, entirely unsure whether his kids knew his other names.

 

[Dissero]

"Gabe," said the boy, having wrangled his runaway emotions in lieu of curiosity. He peered at Ashin, head tilting, "what are you doing here?"

"Just -feth- one moment, I've nearly got it," some strangled sounds from the speeder before the man finally popped out with a small yellow contraption in his hands. He sighed and turned it over, "Broken clip."

Gabe paled, forgetting his question immediately and shrank, "I dropped it."

"Right, well, we'll fix it later. Hold on to it for now Buck. Why don't you go inside and start your homework," passing off the box to the boy, he watched him sheepishly skitter off to the house. Dissero ran a hand through his hair and turned to look at his guest with a lopsided smile, "I'd apologize for greeting you in a state of Dishelveled-Dadness but I think you've seen me in far worse condition."

Dissero offered her his hand, "How are you, friend?"

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Dissero

"Envious of your parenting," said Ashin drily, shaking the offered hand. "And deeply pissed at the Sith Empire, more than usual anyway. They killed Spencer on Dubrillion, apparently. I wish this was a social call."

She had a habit of keeping a hard-edged face, or at least dispassionate. That wasn't an option when she thought of Spencer Varanin dying alone to that Achlys twit, saving a planet that nobody cared about. There were cracks in her mask. Wrongheaded, instinctive privacy said she should have worn the actual one. But it wouldn't be polite or friendly to meet Dissero as Anger, so the lesser evil was that he'd get to see her half-buried pain.

"I could use your help bringing her back. It won't be easy. I'd owe you any favour you could name, tomorrow or a thousand years off."

 

[Dissero]

The man's hand paused mid-shake at the mention of the Sith Empire. How many times, how many incarnations of that thing had he run from? Just when he thought he'd gotten away, it somehow still managed to seep into his life. But his concerns of the Empire vanished at the news of Spencer and he found his hand squeezing Ashin's just a little tighter as the words hit her teeth.

The woman had never been bright-faced for as long as he could remember her, but now he thought he understood a curious cloud hanging over her expression. Why was it that the bad news between them always seemed to be really bad news?

"Ash..." Di placed his other hand around her own to offer her silent condolences and then released her from it. She didn't want his pity, she wanted his help. The ask felt big but he couldn't be sure how big without more details.

"Let's uhm... let's go inside, yeah? I need some caf ... and a different outfit."

Inside he lead her straight to the kitchen, "Make yourself at home. What can I get you? Caf? Tea?" he glanced at her, "Something stronger? You talk, I'll pour."

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Ashin's life hadn't exactly been replete with a cornucopia of actual friends with actual feelings. She blinked away tears and squeezed his hand in return, and followed him inside. She didn't trust herself to speak.

The kitchen had the same understated elegance as the rest of the place. In theory it shouldn't have been comfortable, but she got the feeling this kitchen had been host to all sorts of genuine and impassioned conversations; it felt like a home. She settled into one of the leather stool-slash-chairs and rested her elbows on the kitchen island.

"The last thing this house needs is me in an altered state, but...well, I suppose tea would be..."

She grimaced at a thought and left the sentence unfinished.

"I'm still piecing events together and my sources conflict. Right now it looks like Spencer and Achlys, or Alekto was the name by then apparently...Spencer and Achlys killed each other on Dubrillion during a Sith Empire incursion. I've leveraged every bit of my skill and access and our Force bond, and I can just barely tell that she's out there somewhere, buried in the Netherworld in some way, trapped way past what I can unpick. I'm mustering the girls to help as much as they can, but they're limited." She realized she'd been staring at the countertop, eyes unfocused, this whole time. "I need advice. I need to bring her back. I'm giving up my...role in the Cosmic Force to defy the Way Things Should Be, and that's set things in motion, but..."

Dissero

 

[Dissero]

A sympathetic smile answered the unfinished sentence. Tea it was. Dissero set about pulling together the ingredients for a soothing Honoghran tea leaf, one that his wife liked to mull over after a long day. It would take a bit of time, Honoghran tea. He'd be remiss to make it any way but the old fashion way with a native Noghri Priestess living under his roof, so on went the stove and on went the kettle.

He listened as he worked, trying his best to keep his own thoughts and emotions from showing through on his face too much. He'd never mastered the poker face, hadn't inherited that skill from his mother.

After scooping out loose ingredients from earthenware jars into a mesh capsule, he hovered by the stove to wait for the water to boil.

"It's funny, my mother always said news comes in threes. You're the second person in a month to show up at my home, looking for help in finding a lost one. The circumstances are ... oddly similar, except I didn't find you raiding my fridge, unannounced, in the middle of the night." Spencer, still out there somewhere. He couldn't help the echoing of Cameron's voice from Micah's mouth, words speaking similar sentiments about his lost love Amorella.

Out there, somewhere still.

He frowned, expression falling, "I brought my sister back from the Netherworld and it never sat well with me. Felt wrong. She'd been dead for ... a long time. Didn't come back the same. Like she was broken, a shattered image of the woman she'd been before. I failed her."

Water boiling, he pulled the kettle to the side and dropped the capsule in, "I would hate for Spencer to suffer the same fate."

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"Then I'll mourn what's missing and treasure what's left."

Instinct suggested boiling the water with a thought, but that would be impolite. Dissero was more than capable of doing that if he wanted to. Ashin fidgeted and did her best to respect her host's hospitality. It wasn't that she particularly craved tea: she just had no patience at the moment. Not without effort, anyway. She'd been clean going on twenty years, but by the left nut of the Left-Handed God, she could go for some glitterstim right now.

"Did you help them - the other one who came looking?"

 

[Dissero]

He set a metal stand on the table and the kettle on top of that, then fished in the cupboards for two mugs. He'd wanted caf, but the effort of making tea now made him want tea instead. The man tried at a smile for her understanding words, but he knew better than that. He'd circle back around to her reason for being here, just not quite yet. A plate of recently baked hana bread found its way to the table and Dissero chose a seat across from Ashin.

"Trying to," his brow pinched as he took a slice of bread and smeared a pat of butter across its face, "it's my nephew Micah. Showed up a few weeks back. Got himself into some strange circumstances. Did you..." Di looked at her, a probing sort of glance that measured the spread of Ashin's misadventures across the stars, "did you ever know a man that called himself Darth Ashmedai? Cameron Centurion? Dark skin, built like a mountain, creepy green eyes, thin smile..."

Tea poured, he slid a mug across to her. Didn't offer cream or milk or honey or sugar - all of which an affront to a Noghri's tastes and sensibilities in their craft of traditional tea.

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

She accepted the mug with a nod of thanks and breathed deep. The fragrant steam filled her. "I believe I met him once or twice when the Fringe made an alliance with the Moross Crusade - he was one of them, wasn't he? What does he have to do with your nephew? Is Ashmedai the quarry or the circumstance?"

Micah Talith - someone else she largely knew through others. The younger man had a reputation for innovation, the sort of being who knew a Marrow and Illskins shop like the back of his hand. A useful man.

"If the situation's unresolved, I'd be happy to help."

 

[Dissero]

A nod, "He was - and he's a bit of both at the moment. Always been a wildcard ... at least before he met my younger sister. You might also remember her, Amorella - Aesir Inari of Moross. Cameron fell in love with her. They married, but it was short-lived. She died a few years later on Kuat during the Crownfall. Her death broke him."

The man hid a withered frown behind a bite of bread, leaving the tea to settle and cool, "Micah grew up running amok in my archives and vaults, later on assisting me in my forges, learning as a pupil. I gave him one of my shops to run when he got older. He's a real natural at the craft, passionate about it. Lightside, like his mother," he was rambling. Never was very good at being succinct - didn't inherit that from his mother either.

His hands folded and steepled before his face, gaze wandering off as he wondered how best to summarize what had become a rather complicated set of events.

"Cameron ... did, well, I don't know to be honest, but he's attached his soul to Micah in the last pain of his grief. Micah claims in that moment that they both saw Amore, Cameron insists she is still out there," his gaze shifted back to Ashin pointedly, "and he refuses to release the boy until he finds what's left of her. Micah, for his part, came here for help in finding his sister. Because of Cameron he can't use anything he's crafted, and he can't craft anymore. Cameron's darkside presence has overtaken his own signature."

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"So Ashmedai is definitely the circumstance, then."

The tea had cooled a touch; Ashin took a long sip.

"Is this the same sister you brought back from the Netherworld already? And if you get the chance to bring Amore back to Ashmedai and release Micah, will you do it, knowing what Amore might be? Or are you and Micah looking for a way to scrape off Ashmedai, leave him unsatisfied, and let Micah get back to his work?"

 

[Dissero]

Di leaned back uncomfortably in his seat, a hand lifting to run through his hair, "He's definitely something..."

Cameron never did anything quietly in his life, why start now in his death?

"No, not the same sister. The one I brought back was my older sister, Cera." A light grimace shifted across his features, settling under the beard with an ease that suggested it was in familiar territory.

"The circumstances surrounding Amore are a bit different. We're not looking to bring her back so much as ... set her free. Cameron seems to think she became trapped somehow and was unable to pass on. If he can find her and free her of this entrapment, I believe he will pass on with her and then we can all go back to our work unhindered. The trouble is we can't know for sure until we find her, and we have no leads. Cameron won't give her up, though, and I'm afraid his presence will corrupt Micah the longer he stays."

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

"Let me tell you a story." The tea dulled the edge of her pain. She felt halfway relaxed.

"Three people much like us step through one of the remaining Netherworld rifts. They know they'll find themselves in a place that has seen at least a few travelers, and that to find their targets they'll need to go deeper, to levels and aspects past what even experts know."

"They carry something like a wayfinder, a compass, a scope. Perhaps there's a lighthouse or a searchlight at their backs. Maybe they use a local creature as a guide. They lose something of themselves along the way. They find their lost friends and put them to rest or bring them home."

 

[Dissero]

He listened, he took his tea and sipped, he gave the woman a wilted smile and chuckled.

Full circle, back to the reason she was here. He was hoping to put that off for a bit longer, but if he'd waited too long she'd have finished her tea and perhaps given up on roping him in. Truth be told...

"About 9 years ago Jared showed up at my home back on Rudrig asking for my help. I had to turn him away ... Ve was pregnant with our first child and I was still trying to prove to her I was better than what the Darkside made of me. I don't regret that decision, it was a necessary sacrifice and I knew Jared would understand ... or at least come to forgive me eventually."

He was having a hard time meeting Ashin's gaze. Bit too intense, too keen for his liking. He knew if he looked at her he'd see the call of things he'd put away on his shelves those 9 years ago. The man breathed a deep sigh, "But if it were my wife and I was sitting in your home asking the same of you, I know you'd do whatever you could in your power to help and I know I'd do whatever I needed to in order to bring her back to me."

His eyes finally met hers, holding under that stare, "I'll help you, but Micah stays and Gabe comes. Micah's sister is alive and he's got the best Tracker I know helping him look for her. Amore's been dead for years, she can wait a little longer."

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Sionoma: another unmet friend of a friend. Sheriff of Sullust's moon, some kind of twin or clone of the notorious Reverance. The man who'd taken Rave Merrill's Ankarres trees and made honey with them, of all things. Tasty stuff. Like Micah, a useful and gifted alchemist, but older and presumably wiser. Good judgment counted for much more than power in the Netherworld.

"My daydream story aside, I didn't come here to ask you to risk life and soul and so forth. I'm capable of walking the Netherworld. You're just my best hope for something like a compass."

 

[Dissero]

"You can't walk the Netherworld alone, Ashin. I went in there with Solaiel and we barely made it out with our own lives. I know where to go to find lost souls, do you?"

Maybe she did, maybe she already had, but he knew the journey and he could do it again. This time more prepared - a compass would certainly help.

 

[Ashin Cardé Varanin]

Ashin's mouth twisted sourly. She set the tea aside and bit back a few examples of things she'd endured. This wasn't about whether she could survive. This was about whether she could find Spencer before she ceased to be Spencer. And for that, she really did need all the trustworthy help she could get.

She looked up at Dissero and knew he understood without needing her to explain.

"No, you're right. You're right." She let out a shaky breath. "So tell me about Sionoma. I only really know the man by reputation."

 

[Dissero]

There was a moment he regretted telling Ashin Varanin what she could and could not do. It was a fleeting moment at best - Dissero was older now, wiser, more experienced in the challenges of the verse. He would never count himself her equal, but he felt much more confident in stepping up when he needed to. Ashin had helped him enough in his life, it was time to repay the woman.

If anything, he recognized a person who liked to think they could do it all. She'd done a lot, far more than he, but that didn't mean help wasn't warranted.

"Sionoma?" he broke from his tea, fully confused. When had that old codger come up? Had he misspoke? Gabe wasn't someone he'd drag-

"Oh," a fast blink, dawning realization, "no, no. Not that Gabe. I meant my son. Ve's off to Kuat to take care of her estate affairs with our three younglings, Gabe's under my watch. Where I go, he goes." A self-satisfied sort of smirk eked out the grimace that had been hunkered under his bristle, "Ironic though, that's who he's named after."