Private Once Upon A Time In Epica

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: Epica | Direct Tags: Taera 'Calypso'​

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She had promised Arris Windrun that she'd let her run the Alderaan front and with it the strategies they employed against the High Republic. Then she had also promised she'd start to take the reins of the Covenant more directly. No longer running away from the Core on vacations every few days. Instead she'd rule, she'd be the Face and point the Covenant into the direction that they needed it to take.

That is why she was on Epica.

One of the many worlds on the direct border between the Sith Order and the High Republic. But this one was corrupt, more mafia-state than actual run government and that presented it with opportunities for creatures like Mercy.

The Covenant itself was primarily a mafia-state with additional steps.

So she was scouting things out. Scoping as one said. But after a long day of observing, Mercy decided she deserved a few hard drinks at a local bar in the capital of Epica. They didn't often get a Mountain over the doorstep however and from the moment Mercy stepped inside the tension seemed to rise. It was one of these moments when predators had to suffer a larger predator entering their territory.

They weren't happy about it, but they also couldn't really do anything about it, lest they become prey themselves.

All of this was either lost to Mercy or she didn't care- she was in the corner of the bar, feet on the table, ordering herself one drink after another while smoke ran from her pipe up to the ceiling.

Things were great when you were on top.

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ERASE THE PAST

 

[Taera 'Calypso']

Tags: Mercy

There wasn’t a bar that Calypso could enter that wouldn’t know her face or her name. Firrerreo, at least in House Atria’s territory, weren’t the most common. In fact, she hadn’t seen one in the years she’d been on Epica. Still, she needed a stiff drink. Several of them. The last few months had been hell, and there were a couple bars that knew better than to acknowledge the golden boliphant in the room.

The moment she stepped through the door though, the atmosphere was different. And not just the normal crowd’s behavior. The Force felt darker, the Dark side hung like an expectant storm cloud over the bar, charging the whole building with aggression and fear. Cal cracked her neck and walked up to the bartop, nodding at the bartender. The Twi’lek glanced at a corner behind her before pouring a glass of the local Lomin ale for her, her usual poison of choice. Not that it had much of an effect, it was too weak.

Cal turned to survey the bar, half-bored and half-curious about why the change, why now. Dim lighting offered the illusion of privacy for most of the patrons. And most carried the tension of their routine having been disturbed at best. But a smoke-hazed corner table held the answer. Even sitting, the customer dwarfed most if not everyone in the bar. They sat with feet on the table, an ease in their posture that said nothing could touch them. It explained the tension in the air—people spoke the language of power on Epica.

More relevant to Cal’s interest, they were Firrerreo.

Cal ordered a glass of whiskey on the rocks, a bottle from the top shelf. After dealing with the Ten, she learned that even hospitality could be wielded like a weapon. She made her way over to the table easily, less because people moved out of the way for her, and more because they wanted nothing to do with the outsider.

“Been a while since I’ve seen one of my own kind,” Cal said. She set the glass of whiskey on the table and slid it towards the stranger. “What brings you to Epica?”

Something lurked under the surface of the Firrerreo, something more than strength and stature that gave her the predatory presence. Cal wanted to know what, even if curiosity killed the tooka.

 

[Mercy]

Taera 'Calypso'

Her head shifted before her eyes did.

Listening the approach and then the voice as a golden fucked up hand caught the glass sliding her way. Only at the words did Mercy finally bother to take in the new guest at her table. Eyebrows rose at the appearance, golden eyes scanned the flesh, the membrane, everything. It was the very first time that Mercy encountered a Firrerreo, a fully-blooded one at that.

“Been a while since I’ve seen one of my own kind,” Cal said. She set the glass of whiskey on the table and slid it towards the stranger. “What brings you to Epica?”

"First time I ever met another one." Mercy drawled as she accepted the glass and took a heavy swallow with a satisfied hum. She gestured towards the place next to hers.

"Trouble." The smirk coming easy as she made a little space for Taera to join her. "But trouble always follows my wake."

She took another deep sip.

"I am looking for inspiration, I suppose... to see how other planets handle their affairs..." Very vague, very ambiguous. "And you? What is a Firrerreo doing on Epica?"

The smirk got more pronounced.

"Another Firrerreo, I suppose."

 

[Taera 'Calypso']

Tags: Mercy

"Trouble." The smirk coming easy as she made a little space for Taera to join her. "But trouble always follows my wake."

She took another deep sip.

"I am looking for inspiration, I suppose... to see how other planets handle their affairs..."

Cal smirked and slid into the space provided. So she was here on business, of a sort, politics or corporate interests perhaps. Epica was an interesting choice, to be sure, if she was looking at politics. It was a civilized planet but the oligarchical government wasn’t quite the usual political sphere elsewhere in the Republic. The Ten Families held absolute sway and fought against each other and lesser families for power and influence. In some ways, it reminded her of her last master and her former fellow apprentice.

"And you? What is a Firrerreo doing on Epica?"

The smirk got more pronounced.

"Another Firrerreo, I suppose."

“Making the most of things,” she said. The other’s ambiguity hadn’t escaped her notice. Cal took a drink of the lomin ale. “Been a few years since my… arrival, but I’m leaps and bounds from where I started.”

Although with the legal debate around who was to inherit the noble title left behind by Faustus, she was still not where she wanted to be. Added to that was the poorly arranged marriage between Lancel and some princess. As much as Cal hated the betrothal, she didn’t hate the girl. The brief meeting with her parents at the funeral had been rather enlightening.

Still, the girl was an obstacle.

“And have you found Epica to be inspiring with how it handles its affairs?” she asked. “I might be able to assist if you need it.”

 

[Mercy]

Taera 'Calypso'

She watched her with interest as she smoked from her cigarette.

Once Cal sat down Mercy would offer her a smoke as well. If accepted, lighting it for her on top of it, but otherwise she'd simply keep drawing from her own smoking poison.

And listened.

Not just to her words, but also to her heart, her breath, the stress that hid between the seams if there was any.

Superficially speaking Calypso didn't seem afraid of her. Which made her brave, stupid, or a whole range of emotions in between, that added up to one particular quality that Mercy valued. She was interesting in a room full of faceless figures that didn't matter. She relaxed, one leg crossing the other under the table, lounging almost.

As if this corner was her throne away from Throne.

"And where did you start then, sweetheart?" Then a stretch. The corner underneath her groaned at the shifting in weight foisted on it. "And where did you land?"

Mercy downed half her drink in one go without skipping a beat. Smacking her lips at the burn, enjoying it thoroughly.

"I find it interesting, yes. In a different life... I might have settled on Epica. It is... the way I enjoy doing business. Up, close, personal. Dirty and bloody." Mercy smiled there. "Sadly my life took me in a different direction altogether."

Her eyes met Cal's.

She seemed far too lively for a place like this however. Which was curious.

 

[Taera 'Calypso']

Tags: Mercy

Cal took the offered cigarette, holding it steady as it was lit. It had been a long time since she’d had one. Not since her days in the Aurodium Guard. Faustus had condemned the habit as filthy and if she had wanted to increase her influence over him, sacrifices had to be made.

"And where did you start then, sweetheart?" Then a stretch. The corner underneath her groaned at the shifting in weight foisted on it. "And where did you land?"

Her eyes flicked down to the furniture and floor as it creaked beneath the Firrereo’s shift. There had to be some mixed blood going on, for the other to be as massive as she was. Cal sat back, committing to her course. There was no doubt she was in the presence of a predator and one that could easily snap her bones like a toothpick. But she’d walked into the viator’s lair; she’d be damned if she didn’t see this through.

The question was a bit harder to answer. Cal brought the cigarette to her lips, buying time. Very few knew about her past as a slave, if any at all. And Epica was a world where secrets were currency. If anyone else overheard, that would complicate matters for her significantly.

“A survivor,” she said, flicking ash onto the floor. “Only one that made it to the escape pod before the ship crashed. Now? I've finally made it to a place I can call the shots for the most part.”

Although that had already gotten complicated. More distant relatives with “secret wills” had climbed out of the woodwork, trying to finagle the title of nobility into their grubby little hands. It had been hard enough when Cal’s competition for the inheritance of the title had been her in-laws.

She shrugged. “It’s a work in progress. Always room for improvement, you know?”

So the Firrerreo was no stranger to Epica’s methods of conducting business. Underhanded dealings, agreements made, allegiances bartered. Cal could think of a few planets she’d heard of like that but they were mostly Hutt space. She took a drink of her ale, consuming it considerably slower than her guest had downed her own drink.

“Life has a nasty habit of delivering the most disappointing twists,” Cal said. She couldn’t keep the bitter edge hidden, much as she tried. “But such is life. A work in progress.”