Private Of Empires & Lies

[Allyson Locke]

//: Gerwald Lechner //:
//: Attire //:

It came quietly, the message that she quickly scanned before it deleted itself. She was surprised the dog could do something so sophisticated as an auto-deleting message, even with spy encryption. The antics made the old spy smirk as she disposed of the device after annihilating its memory core.

Today, she would ascend the high tower to where the Dark Council sat on their small thrones. A group of individuals chosen by whoever was the governing body, crying to prove themselves to their Empress.

Allyson knew of the power the Talon woman wielded; she was fortunate to never have to be on the receiving end of it. Standing before the height of the Sith Tower, Allyson watched and took in the sight.

The path that led her life here was quite interesting. She wondered how the Jedi she left behind were faring. Last she heard, Valery had disappeared with the Alliance's collapse. Several others scattered to the wind, too weak to be testament to their discipline. Allyson sighed softly. She couldn't be too hard on them; she herself had given in to the ambition, the freedoms of the Dark Side.

But wasn't that the point? To finally break free and be something beyond a tool for war.

In reality, the Corellian chuckled at the irony of passing the leash from one hand to another.

Allyson shoved her hands into her jacket pocket and entered the building. Easily, the guards pointed her in the direction of one of the councillors' offices. She walked, seeing the professionalism that came with the Empire's government.

As much as they detested the Imperials, their influence was heavy on the current Empire. They had a rigid nature, but the power to influence. The Imperials seemingly lacked that, as evidenced by their initial phobia of force-sensitive individuals.

Paranoia, she liked to call it — perhaps jealousy?

Either way, she already knew who she was meeting; the man was a senior, on the council, and the known right hand of the Empress. Her own pet to do what she wished. Allyson frowned. If she thought that of Gerwald, did others think of her that way?

Clicking her tongue behind her teeth, she continued down the hallway and pushed through the heavy door that led to the man's office.

"So, what does the Great Wolf of the Empire want with someone like me?"

She asked, with a grin on her face, not caring what she walked into. He was (hopefully) expecting her.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Allyson Locke

Gerwald's office sat high within the Sith Tower, elevated not for spectacle but for distance. The walls were dark and unadorned, interrupted only by a broad viewport that looked out over the city below. From this height, the Empire reduced itself to motion and scale rather than noise, which suited the work conducted in this space. Nothing in the room suggested comfort, and everything reinforced restraint and authority.

He had been expecting her.

The summons had been sent because it would be recognized for what it was by someone who understood its intent. Anyone else might have dismissed it as interference or discarded it without thought, but Allyson Locke would not have done so. Her arrival confirmed the calculation rather than disrupted it. Gerwald did not rise when the door opened. He turned from the viewport instead, his attention settling on her with measured calm, as though her presence had aligned precisely with expectation.

Her greeting did not prompt an immediate reply. The grin, the provocation, and the casual tone were familiar enough that they required no acknowledgment. Gerwald had no interest in correcting the narrative she chose to bring into the room, nor did he feel compelled to challenge her framing of the moment. He observed her in silence, noting how she occupied the space, where her attention settled, and how readily she adjusted to the pressure the office imposed on those who entered it.

The room remained quiet, insulated from the broader movement of the tower, while the distant authority of the Dark Council lingered without intruding. This was not a meeting intended to impress or intimidate, and it was not an exercise in nostalgia. He had summoned her because she remained useful, and because she understood the implications of that usefulness without needing them explained.

When Gerwald finally spoke, his voice was even and unhurried, carrying expectation rather than justification.

"I need information, and you’re the one who can get it for me…"