Private Promises Made, Promises Kept

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: THRONEWORLD | Tags: Vesper Thrace​

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The battle of Humbarine had left Mercy severely wounded to the extent that even her healing factor was having trouble keeping up with the damage. The constant exposure to White Noise had effected her cells on a molecular level. It was one thing to eat a blast point blank once. It was another to be constantly irradiated with its effects, while she was protecting Srina Talon so she could kick-start a ritual. So it was that her body was working overtime to put itself back together. Alas, the duties of rule did not stop, simply because your body wanted to rest for the first time in its existence.

No matter if the Blackwall Empress berated you, not with words, but with sternly disapproving looks and glances. Several days into the healing process the Core Empress had to get on with it, or go stir crazy.

She was stealthy about it however. Who knew when her sestra would be back to echani-handle her back to bed.

Vesper would find Mercy on the Throne. Half her face was still melted off, but in the progress of knitting itself back together, slowly. Her shoulder was badly burned, as was most of half her body. It was the side that she had shielded Srina with from White Noise. It was the side that had been worst afflicted by the anti-force projection. There her cells were battling against one another.

It was disgustingly weak, but Mercy had to accept it for now.

"Ah, look who it is." Mercy said by way of greeting as her remaining eye tracked the entry of Vesper. "My blade, my corsair... welcome home." She rose up herself, steady, but Vesper would see the signs of strain.

It was a wonder the Mountain could stand and walk with all the damage incurred.

"How do you fare, daughter mine?" A reference to the cheeky name that Vesper had given the Hellmouth given to her in good health. And some smaller mentions in the past.

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ERASE THE PAST

 

[Vesper Thrace]

Vesper had never been one to be over-awed by the whole Mercy thing.

She was a big woman, yes, and very impressive, yes, but the pirate captain had never quite understood the breathlessness with which her sycophants raced around her. Yes, your worship; no, your worship; tell us how low to go, your worship; give us a kick if you please, your worship; give us a kick if you would, your worship. Some Sith they were.

So Vesper Thrace approached, casual-like, hands slung in the pockets of her clean jumpsuit, and neither knelt nor bowed.

For her ordeal at Humbarine, Vesper had suffered a few minor scratches, and a fracture in her wrist. She wore a small black brace there. Otherwise, she was in perfect health, which is more than she could say for Mercy. "Better than you, que?" Vesper said, head canting to one side. Concern? Maybe. Maybe not. She observed flatly: "You look like shit."

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Mercy​

 

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: THRONEWORLD | Tags: Vesper Thrace​

An arm, the good one, the golden eldritch one wound itself around Vesper's shoulders.

She didn't lean, but Vesper would feel the tension in her stance. The strength required to keep upright as the Empress walked them both towards the viewport. It was her favorite thing about Throneworld. Watching Coruscant below, with all its splendor, all its wealth and all of it belonging to the Covenant.

For now.

"I feel like shit." Mercy confirms there lightly as she watched the planet. "I am glad you are okay, Vessy." She murmured a bit absently while studying the pathways made by the ships going back and forth.

"A Netherworld rift though? You like to make things interesting, don't you?"

She grunted there.

"How are you really? The effects of Netherworld travel are not trivial."

It almost sounded like Mercy truly cared.

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ERASE THE PAST

 

[Vesper Thrace]

Vesper had wondered if she was going to get a ticking off about the Netherworld rift.

She wasn't offended by being questioned about it. She questioned herself. The natural tilt of her mouth made the slow grin that spread across it look a little like a grimace, but the delight in her eyes was unmistakable. "For all their talk about honor and tradition and things being the way, at heart all Mandalorians are some of the galaxy's greatest cowards. I knew they would run like the big girls' blouses they are, and I wanted to stop it. They still managed to get away, but it was not for lack of trying."

She didn't flinch away from Mercy's horrorshow of an Eldritch arm. Not externally, anyway.

"You know what they say. No omelet without breaking some eggs." Vesper had shared with no one what she had seen and heard when the rift was open, and she would not. Not even Tavi. It was handing a weapon to someone who, while not inclined to stabbing you with it today, may well to decide to stab you with it tomorrow. "It's always something with you people. But nothing I can't handle." She folded her arms over her midsection.

"We have successfully repelled the invaders," Vesper said, matter-of-fact. "What's next?"

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Mercy​

 

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: Throneworld | Tags: Vesper Thrace​

Mercy was never gonna give her people shit for being loud and aggressive with their actions. She squeezed Vesper's shoulders and shook her head with a chuckle.

"What a knife you are, Vess. If only I had a hundred of you, the things I could do then." There was no mentalist bone in her body, so Vesper's secrets were safe, but Mercy didn't quite believe things had been as simple as 'breaking a few eggs'. The Netherworld could be a terrifying place if you didn't have the proper mindset and even if you did, it could still be incredibly dangerous. But Mercy also wasn't going to poke too deeply into it.

If Vesper wanted to share, she would. If she didn't, then she'd only get annoyed at being poked at.

"Just make sure you take it easy for a few days." Opting to say that instead. "Even the most experienced Sith Lord can have their mind totally turned inside out from the experience. You are doing better than most, but no reason to push it."

Her nostrils flared at the invaders.

"First we investigate where the fuck they came from. I have spoken to the Blackwall Empress, she is close to Mandalorian Empire's leadership and does not think it likely to be the same group, but we will investigate regardless."

And then... then they'd experience what it meant to have the full-focused attention of Mercy.

"So, nothing with you is for free." Mercy teased her lightly. "My little mercenary corsair. What do you want this time for your suicidal run and timely arrival?"

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ERASE THE PAST

 

[Vesper Thrace]

Vesper knew she had walked into that one. Asking 'what's next' without a modifier opened the door to being inundated with information about all that mess. She resisted the urge to roll her eyes; as if it was her business what the enemies of the Sith Covenant were up to. Her loyalty to Mercy was what some might call theoretical. Vesper would call it transactional. It was the only honest description.

Mercy was a scary woman. She did not engender loyalty as much as fear. Vesper preferred to keep the terms of their relationship businesslike. As long as Mercy's checks -- well, cred transfers anyway -- continued to clear, Vesper would continue to appear when Mercy snapped her fingers. Tendrils. Whatever the fuck was at the end of that monstrous arm.

Honesty made the best relationships, Vesper always thought.

"First things first," Vesper said, her voice low and tense, like a drawn bow. "My ships need repairing and replacing, and my crew needs recovery and replenishment. So, either I need priority access to your drydock facilities or lots of credits. If it's the former, then a medium-large amount of credits will suffice. Crew willing to potentially go mad are not easy to come by."

Vesper glanced at Mercy. "And perhaps there is something else you can help me with. We recovered a shard of metal from the Mandalorian flagship. Some sort of magic alloy that is impervious to all damage except on the second Taungsday of every third month. Want to see if it can be synthesized or improved. And perhaps plate some of the Raiders in the stuff. Maybe the prow of the rammer. What d'you think?"

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Mercy​

 

[Mercy]

Vesper Thrace

Mercy did not think of their relationship as transactional, but she was aware that Vesper coated it that way. For herself or for her people. Either was fine, whatever allowed Thrace to sleep at night.

No, Mercy considered Vesper one of 'her people', which was a nebulous and frankly contentious category.

Creatures like Arris Windrun were 'her people'. So were people like Srina Talon . Somehow, with all the power and might they had, they still weren't able to dodge getting themselves hurt and tortured whenever they were in proximity to Mercy. So being part of Mercy's people wasn't a gift, as much as it was a nightmare that kept on giving.

"So, either I need priority access to your drydock facilities or lots of credits. If it's the former, then a medium-large amount of credits will suffice. Crew willing to potentially go mad are not easy to come by."

She clicked her tongue.

"Darling, my drydocks are your drydocks." The Mountain said gently as she looked down at Vesper. The longer she operated, the more she began to consider venomous creatures like Thrace as kin. "I will let the current steward of Kuat Drive Yards know to expect a horde of pirates coming down for repairs, so they don't shoot you out of the sky."

The matter of crew was a different concern altogether.

"Would you like some Graspborn, dear? They don't mind throwing themselves into the fire for me. And since you are my darling, they will consider you an extension of me." She patted Vesper's shoulder lightly. "I know you value your independence, I don't want you to think I am putting a leash on you. But if you fill a quarter of your fleet with Graspborn, I assure you... they won't disappoint with their ferocity."

Mercy doubted she'd accept the gift.

A woman like Vesper always needed to feel like she could split in a moment's notice. Having a quarter of die-hard loyalist zealots in her fleet would make her feel chained to a cause she didn't want to believe in.

Then Vesper surprised her a touch.

Brows furrowed as she considered it.

"Impervious, huh?" She wondered if it was akin to the beskar the Graspborn had been collecting on Humbarine. Every slaughtered Mandalorian had been stripped from their beskar'gam. Arris Windrun had been skeptical about using the beskar for their own gains. "I have alchemists under my control, I can lend them to you, they can investigate the likelihood you can replicate its durability. And then... well, if you are over at Kuat anyway for repairs, I don't see why their Orbital Yards can't get to work to make something new for you."

A sharp smile there.

"What's good for you is good for me after all. Yes?"

 

[Vesper Thrace]

"Nothing is truly impervious," Vesper muttered. "But they certainly acted as if it was. I'm not sure if you've had a chance to review footage of the battle -- such as it was -- but it was certainly... well I don't know exactly how to describe it. We should have cleaved through them like a knife through butter, but you know these Mandalorian recreants."

She nearly spat the final word, her knuckles going white in her fists.

"They'll always find a way around it."

Vesper might have spit.

"As for Graspborn..." She cupped her chin thoughtfully, dark eyes suddenly going very far away. "I appreciate the thought. It's... very generous. I would need to consult with my senior crew." She meant Tavi, of course. "There may be some thoughts. I need to take soundings. But... since you are feeling generous, Mother, there is one thing I might request."

She turned her face up toward Mercy, craning her neck so that the smaller woman could look the big woman in the face.

"I could use a home base. Somewhere my crew can recuperate between runs, where we can secure the loot before it's liquidated, where we can train and resupply without needing to rely upon some shadowport or another. Don't suppose you have anything we could use for that going spare."

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Mercy​

 

[Mercy]

Vesper Thrace

Yes, Mercy had first-hand experience with the impervious nature of their equipment.

Her fist had made direct contact with one of them. It should have caved in their chest irrespective of what armor was between them, but instead it had done practically nothing.

They had won Humbarine in the end, but that duel still ran through her mind, and all the ways next time would have to go better.

"They'll always find a way around it."

"Then we will just need to be more ingenious ourselves." Declared easily with a nonchalantness in her tone that Mercy didn't truly feel. She was just as furious as Vesper, if not more so. But her fury here would have no purpose besides potentially tearing another muscle. Then either Srina Talon or Arris Windrun would enter the throne room with an expression that said: I am not angry, I am just disappointed. Which as everyone knew was always worse than anger.

Vesper seemed more open to the Graspborn pitch than Mercy had anticipated, or at the very least less categorically denying it.

As such Mercy didn't go on about it and let the woman decide in her own time.

"I could use a home base. Somewhere my crew can recuperate between runs, where we can secure the loot before it's liquidated, where we can train and resupply without needing to rely upon some shadowport or another. Don't suppose you have anything we could use for that going spare."

Brows squinted at the request, thinking about it.

"We carved a whole swath of territory out of the Core when we beat the Empire." Mercy said finally. "Probably have multiple places that could fit that description. You got any specific needs? Specific locations near hyperlanes, focused on stealth or on armament? Size wise?"

 

[Vesper Thrace]

"You are very generous, Mother," said Vesper, her voice low but genuine. She didn't like being in anyone's debt, but she knew how much she owed to Mercy in principle if not on paper. And Vesper was someone for whom principle would trump paper every single time. "There is a saying where I come from -- beggars ought not to be choosers. I will leave it to your discretion wherever you may spare space. If you are feeling solicitous, then -- defensible, near enough to hyperspace lanes without being made a target."

She paused a moment.

"Something around 16 degrees centigrade wouldn't go amiss, but I am not too picky." An enigmatic smile, a crinkling around her eyes all but disguised by her prodigious eyeshadow.

Vesper remained in a companionable silence for a few moments before she glanced at Mercy sidelong again. "Are you going to be all right? Don't think I'm going soft, Mother. I am merely weighing whether your generousness outweighs the tribute we are happy to pay for the pleasure, and whether in your decrepit state I could take you."

She moved then, and if she had been even slightly more confident and Mercy slightly less terrifying, she might have made a joking lunge, but Vesper wasn't slightly more confident Mercy wasn't slightly less terrifying, so she simply produced a flask from her utility belt and unscrewed the lid to take a swig from it. "Some?" She shook the flask at her. "Tastes like deck-stripper but it will fuck you up five ways from Benduday if you're not careful. It's -- ah -- medicinal. Doctor's orders."

More like a doctor had taken one look at Vesper and decided not to contradict her when she took a swig, but that was almost the same thing.

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Mercy​

 

[Mercy]

Vesper Thrace

"You are no beggar, you are a daughter of mine." Not by blood, which was just as well, because it made it more meaningful. She had always liked Vesper but the whole Mother Mercy had pointed out something to her that should have been obvious.

Vesper needed someone in her life that cared for her without wanting anything in return for said care.

"And mine get what they need and want. They need not be satisfied with scraps on the table." She thought about it for a moment and shrugged.

The shrug send another flare of pain through her that was difficult to fully push down.

"I'll let my Butcher know what you need. He will make sure you get it. One way or the other."

The concern was amusing, almost as amusing as how Vesper tried to cover it up.

"Oh, you could probably take me in this state." Mercy drawled lazily, one large arm gently settling on Vesper's shoulders.

Gentle or no, that gesture alone would tell Vesper Mercy was full of shit.

There was power in that arm, weight. Even in this state she could probably tear a rancor form limb to limb. Even if it would end with her in a coma for the rest of the year.

"You are sweet to worry." Accepting the drink and taking a swallow without blinking. Even when it went down Mercy didn't blink.

"Mm, I remember drinking stuff like this during my Nar Shaddaa days..."

Her attention shifts fully to Vesper.

"Tell me, Ves. Are you happy? Truly happy? With what you are building?"

 

[Vesper Thrace]

"I don't know if it's sweet," Vesper answered, internally bracing herself against the meaty weight of Mercy's fucked-up arm. She knew it was something technical -- an Eldritch horror or something? -- but to a plainspoken girl from the slums like Vesper, it was really just plain fucked-up. Having it over her shoulder, close to her neck, made Vesper's skin crawl.

But what were friends for?

She went on: "You're the only one holding the leash of the rest of these psychopaths," Vesper said, gesturing broadly, but the message was clear. Sith without a strong limiting factor would run amok. Vesper didn't care for it. "Makes your health and survival important, que?"

The captain took her flask back, took another swig.

"Don't be stupid, Mother. Happy?" Vesper scoffed. "No such thing in this galaxy. Never such a thing. The minute you think you've got enough scratch to be getting on with, some fucker is there, waiting to take it away. But for the kind of life I have? Got some quality people around me. Reliable. And we got what we need to to get by."

Another swig, then another proffer of the flask to Mercy.

"What about you? Didn't think Sith Lords really went in for happiness. Am I wrong?"

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Mercy​