Junction Mother Knows Best [ ME & TSC Junction of Hapes & Empty Hex ]

[Leontis Antalis]

LEONTIS ANTALIS

For the first time since approaching her, Leontis seriously considered conceding the conversation. Not openly, of course. He would excuse himself with a practiced smile, offer some polished observation about the coronation, and depart with his dignity intact. Later, he could tell himself that the young woman was simply too thoroughly Sith to understand power that did not announce itself through lightning, blades, or conquest. It would be a comforting explanation. It would also be defeat.

Leontis remained where he was. He lifted one hand and wagged a finger gently between them, more amused than admonishing. “In every good lie, there is a measure of truth.” His tone remained light, though the argument beneath it was not. “A lie without truth is crude. Fragile. It collapses under the smallest scrutiny.” His hand lowered, fingers curling loosely around the stem of his glass. “The finest deceptions are built from facts arranged with purpose.”

A reluctant pause followed. “Though I will concede that there are those so certain in their convictions—or so indifferent to the judgment of others—that they will reveal the whole truth. There are also those who feel they have nothing to lose by revealing the truth.” He inclined his head slightly toward her. “That is a rarity.” A faint smile returned. “One I would welcome experiencing.”

Her accusation that he was privileged and out of touch drew a quiet chuckle rather than embarrassment. “I am privileged.” He saw no reason to deny what was obvious. “As for being in tandem with the populace, that has not historically been the preferred method by which the Sith rule.” His gaze moved briefly across the chamber, taking in Covenant dignitaries and armored Mandalorians gathered beneath Hapan banners. “On that matter, I find myself in agreement with them.”

His dark eyes returned to Eira. “I am above the populace. I was born above them, raised above them, and I expect to remain above them.” There was no cruelty in the admission. Only certainty.

When she suggested he intended to plead with the Sith for power, however, Leontis slowly shook his head. “No.” The single word carried more firmness than anything he had said thus far. “I will prove my worth to the Sith. I will not beg them to recognize it.”

His thumb passed idly over the edge of a signet ring. “Personal might has many definitions. Mine may not resemble the traditional Sith expression of it, but I will display it over time.” He possessed no lightsaber. No command of storms. No ability to crush an enemy's throat from across a room. He had names. Debts. Votes. Trade routes. And people who believed their decisions were their own.

“What I offer Chandrila is strength and prosperity, provided its people follow my lead.” His voice softened, becoming almost conversational again. “I offer them a voice among the Sith.” A slight smile touched his lips. “That voice will choose for them, naturally. But it will be Chandrilan. It will come from Chandrila, and it will act for Chandrila.” Or, more accurately, for the House that best embodied it.

At her correction concerning the Force, Leontis offered a small bow of his head. “Then forgive my ignorance.” The apology sounded sincere enough, though not submissive. “I grew up surrounded by the corruption of the Jedi and their admirers. Their insistence that the Force binds and defines all things has infected much of Chandrilan thought.” He raised his eyes again. “I am willing to accept that I have misunderstood it.”

The question of what protected him finally earned a genuine smile. He glanced toward the chandeliers, then back to her, before shaking his head once more. “Not those.” His smile widened slightly. “From you, I suspect what protects me is that you have likely never heard my name.” He allowed the implication to settle. “And the hope that a disagreement in philosophy is not sufficient cause for you to end me.”

There were political assassinations on Chandrila, certainly. They were merely conducted with more respectable instruments. A ruined career. A poisoned reputation. A convenient accident discussed over breakfast. Physical death was often needlessly final.

Her sharpened question about station made his expression more thoughtful. “To some, any Sith would be beyond my station.” He did not retreat from the admission. “You are correct. I made assumptions.” His eyes remained upon hers. “And that game can be dangerous.” The smallest trace of satisfaction entered his expression. “But power cannot be attained without risk. Nor can it be acquired without playing games.”

Then she explained that a simpler compliment might have carried him further than laying bare his intentions. Leontis released a quiet sigh. That, more than any threat she had implied, seemed to wound him. It proved that the being who revealed their whole truth for not fearing there was something to lose, who he spoke of before, was a fool. There is always something to lose if you aren’t careful.

He glanced aside for a moment, as though contemplating the tragedy of honesty being punished after she had objected to his suspicion of lies. When he looked back, the smirk had returned. “I am here to network with Sith.” His words were direct now, stripped of ornament. “I will not apologize for judging you approachable by someone of my station.”

The smirk widened. “I am standing in a room filled with Mandalorians, Hapans, and Sith.” His gaze swept across the coronation gathering. “Some might call it a room full of vipers.” He lifted his glass toward her in a small toast. “I would not argue vehemently against the description.”

His attention settled fully upon Eira again. “You, my lady…” There was challenge in his smile now, but no mockery. “…are someone I would welcome a bite from.”

Eira Dyn

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