Private Paradise On Pelagon

[Lysander von Ascania]

Mercy | Madrona A’Mia​

Lysander arrived after the fires finished eating.

The platform beneath his boots was really just old money made solid. He imagined it was one of those places that had never expected to fall. But now, it would certainly learn how to rebuild. And the neighboring planets? They all bore the same mark of ownership. The Covenant’s shadow stretched across the Tapani Sector now.

He walked alongside Mercy, a presence that was unmistakable no matter what planes they decided to traverse lately. Strangely, Lysander had grown more accustomed to her presence, more than he would have expected. Time aboard the Siegemother assisted with that.

Pelagar lay around them.. or what remained of it. As he understood it, the capital emptied in a hurry, civilians fleeing in desperation. Those who hadn’t left fast enough were still here. For the time being, the bodies remained where they had fallen, sprawled across the ground.

Around them, blood stained the stones in carless streaks. It was further carried along walls once belonging to noble houses; now, their names meant nothing. Blaster fire scorched remnants of any finer architecture. Windows lay shattered.

The platform’s elegance had not been erased; no, it was violated.

And in truth? The scene unsettled Lysander more than he wanted to admit. Sure, he’d fought wars.. proper ones under different banners. Armies against armies. He’d even stood on Brosi’s soil holding the line in defense. The kind of purpose that brought clarity. But this.. this was different. A purge that was intentional. Darker than anything else he had ever witnessed up close.

The horizon of blues was at least still beautiful. Somewhere in the distance, waited a submersible already procured. There was a general idea of what was intended, but he also knew better than to start demanding, or even irritating Mercy, with endless questions.

If there was any sign to his growing comfort around the Sith Lord, then it sat in his hand. A carbonated beverage. Looted, obviously. A few stores he witnessed were already stripped bare. He could’ve taken anything, but this clear and foreign bottle with bubbles caught his eye.

Letting the straw brush his lower lip, curiosity took over immediately. He blew back into the bottle and bubbles bloomed.

Fascination stretched across his youthful visage, corners of his mouth twitching. But then again, if people could carve hyperspace lanes, he supposed trapping gas in water wasn’t that strange at all, right? Well, it was pretty cool to him, discovering a small little secret the galaxy had been hiding.

Another sip was taken before his head turned toward the other Sith.

“I guess when something’s been standing long enough, it forgets it can still fall, no?”

A few cauterized limbs lay in his path; he stepped over them.

“So I’m guessing whatever we’re diving for down there lasted because it didn’t live up here?”

He saw other figures ahead but couldn’t make them out yet; whether A’Mia was among them or behind him, he wasn’t sure. Even so, he found himself looking forward to seeing the Neti.

 

[Mercy]

Lysander von Ascania | Madrona A’Mia

Lysander was busy with his fuzzy drunk and Mercy was busy stuffing her pipe. Slowly lighting it. Soon enough she began to draw from the pipe, slowly puffing out some smoke.

"Mm, yes." Mercy responded after considering his words, but also the thought behind it. Clearly speaking about the Tapani and the ancient civilization that they represented. "Every ancient civilization forgets one simple concept, Lysander." She continued there, chewing on the start of her pipe, absently but with pleasure.

"The natural end point of existence is entropy. Death, destruction, chaos. These are the natural ways of life. That is why destroying is so easy and creating is so hard."

Then a shrug there.

"They believe their civilization will survive the test of time. They always believe that... and in the end their work is for naught." Mercy glanced around, noticing both the beauty but also the destruction. Both... were gorgeous in their own way. "This is why the Covenant was not made to build. We will restore the proper order of things, the way nature requires it."

She glanced to Lysander for the next question.

"I was told... our scans discovered some ruins. Apparently our bombardment caused some tectonic plates to shift, unveiling them." They came up to the submarine and Mercy looked up at it.

"I figured it would be a nice lesson. You are my Apprentice after all. And we haven't done any lessons yet... well, besides the bar session, when we first met."

 

[Madrona A’Mia]

"Only a challenge for some, dearest Mercy."

A'Mia rose from the water nearby, flowing so effortlessly from one environ to the other that it might seem as if the woman had always been semi-aquatic.

"To conjure life, I mean. Those of us familiar with the way that Death folds in upon itself to burgeon anew, who know Life and decay are intricately woven kin, creation is merely a question of conjuring one's vision to reality."

The woman smiled as she approached, her robes somehow appearing unburdened by the weight of water they surely ought to be soaked through with.

"But what's this, about Apprenticeship? Oh how thrilling, congratulations Lys."

She glided up beside Mercy to pat her on one thickly muscled arm.

"If you need any headache remedies, I have many," the neti teased mildly.

"While I awaited you, I took a preliminary look around. The sediment is still a bit too churned up near the surface for me to gaze into the depths so I have little to report as of yet."

Lysander von Ascania | Mercy​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Mercy | Madrona A’Mia
​

Smoke drifted across Lysander's peripheral vision; sharp and ever bitter, but then again.. it was something else he'd grown accustomed to around the Sith Lord. Her words settled. Sith did not fear emotion; they demanded responsibility for it. The Jedi preferred the illusion of absence, as if pretending not to feel were the same as being above it. Ridiculous, really. Fortunately, he too had an answer to such follies: the forging of Nightstar, to cut down Jedi and put an end to their dogma.

By now, Lysander had seen enough places fall to know the words were true. “I understand. I suppose breaking something doesn’t ask much of you. You just apply enough force.. and it answers.”

He took a small pull through the straw and the bottle hissed. “Yeah.. that’s just physics, isn’t it? Any system left alone eventually breaks down. Sometimes it just needs a little push.”

His head turned just enough to meet Mercy's gaze. Their meeting on Nar Shaddaa had been one hell of an introduction. Certain moments from that day always resurfaced, no matter how hard to tried to bury them.

“Whatever the lesson is,” stated calmly, carrying as the Neti neared, “I’m ready to receive it, Master.”

Death's dominion encircled them, and somehow Lysander’s gaze softened a few degrees more upon the A'Mia arrival. His head inclined. Apprenticeship.. especially under Mercy, felt like a thing to survive.. rather than celebrate.

“I intend to be worth the investment.”

A corner of his mouth twitched at her following comment before purposely rolling his eyes.. a gesture he was proud of teaching the tree that seemed immune to feeling just about anything other than joy at the presence of hideous looking Sithspawn.

“If it’s lasted this long, another minute or three shouldn’t change too much.”

He also remembered the call about Force-sensitive children, but chose not to overstep

Soon, they reached the submersible. Lysander keyed the hatch open, then waited for the others to board first.