Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Skye is Fallow (Fringe: Lucien)

Looking down at a planet from Sumatiyara's bridge has become a minor fascination to little empathic me. Most folk don't realize I can feel the planet from here, the millions-billions of lives peek and prod at my inner conscience before we reach orbit, which is a blessing. I decided to call it a blessing anyway. It's been months since I've seen another member of the Fringe High Council, months since Lipsec and its' violent aftermath and months of isolation and healing. Reparations for the loss of my young unborn child were costly on my conscience and the sorrow was great, but as the Force is a noble Master it left me derelict of pain. For a symbiotic empath, each encounter mars, shifts and estranges my mind from what it had been, what it was. There is no backward, no in between and no backing out. There is only grace, and the grace which has been given me in my time of reflection has been the largest breath of mercy my tender years have felt.

I didn't know peace flowed like a river, that healing came as the wind comes to a parched, stagnant field. I was content to stay in the womb of the Force's Light, coaxed by its particular light and solar emanation but my sojourn was to end. 'Permanent seclusion isn't for you, little one. Time to wake up now' the Light said, soft as a mother is soft to her newborn. [member="Mikhail Shorn"] knocked on the bastion of the Wise and Noble Thought, my Sumatiyara. I am happy for the meeting.

And now another soul comes forth. Another moment of blessing from the isolation. [member="Lucien Cordel"] has been pressed against the sides of my mind and in my growing perceptions I know this to mean he needs me. Or better put, he needs someone. I pull on a button down, cargo trousers and a leather jacket, pull my long hair behind my ears and leave my perceived face as that of Anders, Son of Naboo.

It takes no time at all to get passage coordinates to Cordel's palace and my sunny disposition is clip-clopping down the hangar ramp in tandem with the smile on my face. Yah, I dig good days. I dig them old school. And new school. "Here to see Lord Cordel and yes, he'll see me."

A mental projection touches on the outskirts of Lucien's mind, to let him know I'm here.
 
The months since [member="Anders Sivas"] had retreated from civillisation , were characterised by change. Non were favourable to lucien, he had once heard it said that the nature of ruling was laying in a bed of weeds and tearing them out by the roots one by one before they grew up and strangled you in your sleep. Lucien could feel himself loosing that battle.

He had grown to lose trust he saw knives in every shadow and enemies in every stranger, of late whispers of men and women in dark clothes had been seizing those who became too loud in secretive dawn raids luciens fear bred fear in his subjects and to make matters worse a war seemed to be on the cards and Lucien would be dammed if he didn't make preperations .

The Skye Andra encountered would be vastly different to the one she had visited in the aftermath of the lipsic incident as it had come to be known. Lucien had dismissed or earased some of his servants,he still retained a great many however, police presence was up and a deathly rigidness had begun grip the population of course non dared mention the change the world was undergoing... Not in public hearing any way.

A solider wearing the uniform of Lucien's household guards stepped forwards to greet anders. This guard was one of those who had seen Lucien change first hand. He smiled weakly at anders, he couldn't show the cracks in the foundations. When Anders began in his bubbly tone the guard just frowned he mourned the time when what Anders said was true " his grace has been reluctant to accept any but the first inquestitor , however you are welcome to try" he said leading the high councillor into the passage to the main house.

They filed past riged guards and blank eyed servants but the guard stopped suddenly at the base of the main staircase, A sour faced man in black was dencending. The gaurd came to a stance of rigid attention "Hail first inquesitor " the guard barked as the shadowy figure reached the bottom of the stairs the inquesitor just grunted and continued out of the front door. Then as if nothing had happened the guard just continued up to the east wing and Lucien's office.

They were stopped in the ante chamber by Lucien's assistant she was a fixed entity even in this time of turmoil it was said that even a black hole couldn't remove her from her place at Lucien's left. " High councillor Sivas to see his grace" the guard said trying his best to sound confident. Lucien's assistant glanced up "His Lordship has not taken an unannounced visitor in a long time, however he may see the hounrable councillor ... Remain here. " she replied before she rose and strode across the room and into Lucien's office careful to close the door tightly. Moments later she returned "Optio you are dissmissed , my lord his grace will see you now go on through"
 
"Oh, he'll see me. Don't worry Optio. I got this." I take a deep calm breath. In, hold, out. Sure I could tell the man to take one, but this was far more respectful to his veneer. Wonder how his kids are doing?

It is a biological fact that compassion breeds compassion. In the hottest situations, where by rights anyone could be vindictive or violent or afraid, a simple act of compassion could help breathe life where tension was sequestering it away. The Skye before me is a macrocosm of someone's terrified, fear-warped mind. Lucien's mind if i have half a guess and more than a dim-wit's sense. As I smile and prance down the runway past the armed guards and strangled presence, I'm not immune to the sheer amount of held breaths in this place. Is this what people get when I'm gone? Sure I know I'm by far and wide not the most important piece in the puzzle but gee. Seems to be I left Lucien and Darien on a friendly father-son adventure, not the next step to rage-stomping an entire planet. Wonder what the cause is.

And then the Inquisitor. I press my lips together as he passes by, suppressing a nervous albeit untimely giggle. I would so get shot if I giggled. Shooting hurts! "Thank you, Ma'am. Good to see you." I salute at the Assistant. She is the crux point. I have a strong feeling if Lucien lost her, his worlds would crumble apart so fast even Manu Xextos' head would spin. Spin clean off. Okay I have got to stop almost making myself laugh. The last few feet into the office are the hardest. The closer I get to Lucien the more I feel the depressive tyranny of his inner emotional turmoil. I gasp with a small cough, my smile turned down only a touch to the quiet concern of a friend.

"Dear Goddess Lucien, the collective breaths of everybody on this planet could cause a hurricane if they let them all out. You going to start at the beginning? What's happening in this place?" I keep walking, the veneer of my force-given male projection fizzling off now that we're alone and I can be honest. If I'm asking him to be honest, I'd better be. "I'm fine, by the way. Complete rebuild courtesy of the High and Mighty Force. Sensed something was up here from several sectors away so, what can I help you with? Is Darien okay?"
 
Lucien looked up from his paperwork stamp in hand, façade prepared smile afixed to his face. He had developed a talent for faking emotion. He stood up pushing his chair under his desk and moving down from the platform "I'm sure I don't know what you mean, things are just tense because of the shadow of war that's looming over us" he moved over to his drinks cabinate "Darien is fine thanks for asking ... We are all fine, can I interest you in a glass of claret Lady Sivas?" He said with a false cheeriness.

Lucien couldn't and wouldn't Allow his image to fall into doubt. He must be ironclad and bullet proof if he was to remain in his position. One show of weakness and they would fall upon him like dogs in heat. He poured a glass of claret for himself and Andra if she wanted one before moving over to his armchair by the fire and took a seat. "Now you simply must tell me all about your adventure and how lord Ovmar is doing we have been at loggerheads recently"
 
"How was your vacation with your son? Any news on young ladies?" Oh how talented the grinning man, who can smile and preen himself on the fears of the people. How Noble, how Sith of the prim and proper Lord of the Estate. I envy his resolve, but for the cracks and shimmering creaks in his restraint. Too restrained for the emotions roiling around the planet. A man at ease is a man in harmony with his surround. Lord [member="Lucien Cordel"] is nothing of the sort, although he's good. Oh yes, indeed if I knew him less, if I felt the people less. . . he would have gotten away with it.

"Thank you, claret would be lovely. You must congratulate your Butler for his selections. I assume you use his advice in all things sommelier?" Haven't had a good drink since the last time I saw Lucien and it seems since the last time I saw Lucien things were far more chipper in Skye. Course my personal life was the worst it had been but that moment was the crux point in my healing process. I needed to feel justice had been done. Scales balanced. I could never have done so myself, a healer turning the darker path was the model of decimation: a cruel and wicked psychopath with no sense of which echo was the one too far. I would have glassed Lipsec.

"Lord Ovmar has disappeared. He's gone, just like before except I know he's not dead. Death I can feel from a planetary system away. Just like lies. I didn't leave my deep space retreat to say hi over a glass of claret, I do have some news of a rather fantastical nature. I was quite content in my hermitage aboard the Sumatiyara, meditating constantly on the Force and refining my gifts when I received in the deep fallow of space a visitor. [member="Mikhail Shorn"] found me in the nebulous passages of the badlands. We made peace. And oh what a peace we made." I can't help but laugh softly, shake my head as I sip my claret. I can still feel the buzz of him on my skin: dangerous and sudden. The Lost Man found his passage and I cannot believe my direction through the Force. It's not luck, for a coincidence of that nature was far too serendipitous. "I was able to forgive him, and he was able to release his faults in those . . dark matters, to the Force at large. It all feels distant and lighter, cleansed and rectified. Although I'm certain there will be times the man makes me want to pull my hair off my head, I'm glad he found me. I'm hoping this brings you a great deal of relief."

My eyebrow raises, I know there's a lot of current affairs I need to check up on but a war? Bucket would have told me if there was anything too significant in the way.
"The oncoming war? To which are you referring? It must be putting a desperate sheen on the populace. Lucien, your planet's screaming. There's not a single person on Skye whose not on edge, afraid for their lives or dreading the days to come. You know me well enough to know I'm here not for the people of Skye but their sovereign."
 
Lucien's vacation felt like it was an eternity ago, he had felt eternal then, he was untouchable then. "It was relaxing ... Darien enjoyed it" he smiled when [member="Anders Sivas"] mentioned ladies "well funnily enough he brought a rather wet lady to me whilst I was hosting some dignitaries aboard my yacht , she is my apprentice now" he had almost forgotton to be wary , he couldn't relax or they would usurp him from his thrones. He looked to Andra she knew he was hiding ... He was a fool to hide but he would be a fool to stop.

"Of course , one doesn't have time to trouble with wine" he had far too much on his plate the high council were headed for war and he couldn't let them go unprepared the fringe had a reputation for being inpenitrable it was all that kept them safe ... He had tried to warn them but they wouldn't listen they were going to get rid of him ... He knew but he ran three planets they wouldn't remove him without a fight.

Lucien raised his eyes ... Disappeared but he had seen Jared, he had argued with him ... Why had he left Andra? ... Had he gone to raise forces to remove him ... He was ripped from his dark thoughts by Andra's mention of [member="Mikhail Shorn"] " where is he now?" He exclaimed. Mikhail could help Mikhail was strong he could protect him "It brings me more relief than you know, is he coming back?" He lent forward.

Then she concerned it, she knew. He lent back and sighed. She would have the truth out of him he was so tired "the council recently voted to give aid to the one sith, that threatens our peace with the republic , war is coming my lady maybe not today but it will be on us soon ... The people are doing what people do they gossip and whip themselves into a terror, they will recover when things are safe ... I will be fine , now tell me of Mikhail"
 
"Taken an Apprentice, have you? Ooooh, should we be watching Darien's hormones around this apprentice?" It does me good to see Lucien expanding his life after Meret, but I still get a gravel pit in my stomach. When things go wrong, there's always a mess to clean. Although I'm far more concerned with the mental and emotional messes the Lords Cordel get into, it does no good to leave the traces of long-standing misconceptions and hatred when the Fringe is full of Sith. I taste the claret on my palette and wish I'd taken his sommelier's advice on stocking the Su--oh I can still ask that. "You'll have to let me borrow your Butler's mind for an hour. I have a dainty little cellar aboard my ship that's nearly dry. I can't have company aboard the Sumatiyara with no victuals to give them. I'd love your Butler to make my servant droid a buying list."

Hey, The Lord Cordel's Household is one of incredibly good taste. It's a sin not to ask. I stand back and feel the weight of a jabbing pain in my ribcage, crawling toward my spine. Was there a shadow behind me, tasting the marrow of my bones and causing a chill? I rub the back of my neck. War. War coming and me gone too long. War coming and Jared gone again. Here I was exposed and bundled up in the High Council, rocked by the waves of decisions I should have been there to make. Had my absence caused this? Am I being really egotistical?

"I read the reports, but didn't realize it was so urgent. . . Lucien, I'll help in any way I can to protect the peoples of the Fringe. Wouldn't be much of a High Councillor if I didn't, eh? It comes to me, if we can strengthen the border worlds and put passive defences around Annaj we're at a good start. I also need your help activating the people. We cannot let them live in fear, Lucien. A people afraid are a people who bite the hands that feed them. Start training centres on Skye and Zaadja, voluntary of course, that start teaching the people field medicine, first aide, disaster response, communications, self-defence and mechanical repair. I'll take the initiative to the other Fringe worlds. Even if the people can't fight on the battle field, they'll make one hell of a fifth wheel and when war comes the people will be of use instead of being a liability. Educate them and let them feel there is something they can do. Remember it's far longer lasting to control a population through the velvet of diplomacy than the iron gauntlet of repercussive fear. . . also. . . we should plan a hold-out point. A panic-button location we can vacate our logistics to if Annaj falls. . . Without Jared I don't know how Annaj... I still have access to Jared's money but not him. Lipsec was probably too much and when I left to heal. . . maybe I was being selfish. I should have seen how you all needed me to balance things out. Forgive me?"

My throat clears the passage of the oppressive shadow, I push the back of my palm to my lips and glance around Lucien's office.
"He's aboard my ship, and he's quite alright at the moment. He wasn't. . . Mikhail had been taken by the Dathomiri Witches. Mind-wiped, stolen, but it didn't stick. He was kidnapped again, tortured, wiped, defeated and then left to wander. He was very lost." I pace the floor, sipping my glass of claret and trying to comprehend all of this. "How the man came to find me I don't know. He . . he said he could feel me straight across the Galaxy and I don't know what that means, but I do know it's significant. This is Mikhail Shorn we're talking about. He found me in the deep and I forgave him of his sins toward me. I wiped them clean and he didn't get it, didn't know how or why I could but I do. I forgive him, and it must have meant something 'cause the next thing I knew he was talking about how he cared about me. Cared as he couldn't care to others." My head shakes and I glance up at Lucien, honestly a bit perturbed.

"I don't know what to make of it. Or what to do about it. It's not like he got down on one knee, he promised that some day he'd hurt me again but. . . I cared more about how to make him the better Mikhail than about some possible point in the future. I guess... we've all been through incredible pain and we will again, that's a given in this universe, but it's not the end of it, you know? There's always an after to wake up to, and there's always something to be done to make things better for the people you do care about. Mikhail said, for what it's worth anyhow, that my enemies are his, that my loved ones are his. So... at least we know going into this war we have the Throne Breaker and that is a load and a half off my mind, let me tell you. It's going to be okay, Lucien. I'm not going to let you go through this alone. You're stuck with me, and Mikhail is stuck with both of us. Do you want Darien to fight? Or become an officer, or ... is there some place you want Darien to be in all this?"
 
Lucien nodded "of course I shall have My butler give bucket an itemised list of recommendation" he smiled feeling calmed Andra always had that effect on him he suddenly felt very stupid for being evasive "you must forgive me I have been very stupid ... The war is only a dark suspsion it is still veiled in shadow ... My mind is troubled however lipsic is still a hot bed , one of my agents was dismembered recently he his the latest of manymany, our ambassador was attacked ... I have suppressed this information but there have been leaks there is outrage there are whisperings of riots that is why I have inflicted this harsh control on the city"

Lucien frowned "The king is to blame I am certain ... I am reluctant to kill a reigning monarch and yet something must be done I stayed my hand in the aftermath of the lipsic crisis ... I will not stay this time" he stood up and paced across the room "I suggested alittle harsh justice was inorder when last you came ... Come with me and we will enact my recommendation ."

"I need to see [member="Mikhail Shorn"] before we progress any further though , please take me to him" lucien said drinking long of his wine. He needed it he was bloody stressed .

[member="Anders Sivas"]
 
"It's all good, Lucien. Or it will be when we're done with it." It does my heart good to get the Butler's approach to a liquor cellar. Bucket whirs out and waves with a bow. The SC-1 Battle Droid is growing in quirks and personalities since the early days, and I'm glad in the long run. It's been good company. "I've been wondering how Lipsec was going. So what's your idea for getting the planet in line? Kill the King? We might need backup and I know someone who may be able to help us break thrones." I wink and rub my hand against the side of my feminine neck. "He'll help us. We all need each other, and all the more now."

'Mikhail I'm bringing Lucien over.'

Speaking of company, I choke on my sip of wine when [member="Lucien Cordel"] gets up to see [member="Mikhail Shorn"]. "Ah. . right! Yes. Yes I will take you. To my ship. The ship right over there. Yes, my ship Sumatiyara." I sip the rest of the wine in my glass and bite the inside of my cheek as my cheeks flare up bright red. "He's onboard my ship. The one that's docked let me ah, call ahead and make sure he's . . ah. . ."

'Mikha, please have trousers on. Please! Lucien'll die of shock.'
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
"Decent?" came a sly suggestion from behind Lucien.

A Sith Lord shivered suddenly into existence, as Sith Lords often do, digital static becoming a cohesive whole. The raven-haired man was of average height and strong, though he did not possess a muscular frame. Lean muscle bore nor trace of former scars and his right hand was no longer a numb, metal appendage. Born anew in body, yet could the same be said of his soul? His blue eyes shimmered with an electric aura of mischief and spite.

Mikhail walked until he stood at an angle equidistant to Andra and Lucien, the three of them forming the points of a triangle. He wasn't wearing a shirt.

"Lucien... did I catch you talking about getting your hands dirty?" He waggled a finger at his one-time apprentice.

[member="Lucien Cordel"] [member="Anders Sivas"]
 
Lucien returned to his chair and sat down again "badly, very badly" he sighed. Then Andra made him chuckle in spite of himself "If only it were as simple as putting the royals before the executioner, no they are only the start we will need to shuffle the ministers, the media , the bourgeoise and the oligarchs. No Lipsic must be flayed before it will yield to reason " he rubbed the arm of his chair deep in thought "Yes lord [member="Mikhail Shorn"] will be most beneficial, we can't bring more than a token force this can't become an invasion"

He arose once again with a start as [member="Anders Sivas"] argreed to take him to Mikhail. He supposed he missed his former master , for all his flaws. He moved swiftly to his desk thumbing his intercom "Have ashwick bring my coat and gloves and make sure he's quick about it" he had only just released the button when the voice of the breaker of thrones broke the silence. Lucien span to look then tutted, canceled his valet and retreated back to the fire.

"Yes Mikhail I will be in among the mire for this ... Operation, one can't trust to the discretion of a lesser agent and besides I want mine own personal vengeance ..." He poured himself another glass " now cut the theatrics, get in here and for goodness sake get dressed ... This isn't a brothel despite your endeavour " he sighed "I have whiskey and I refuse to humour you whilst your stood there like a telvised rent boy. "
 
I toy with the rim of my glass, staring down at its dwindling collection of liquid at its bottom. "The media will follow the oligarchs in charge. And the oligarchs are joined with the corporations. If we get them, the people can follow easily enough. Even if I have to go proclaim myself Queen of the dastardly place. I've got some troops in the area, if we need reinforcements there's the Vi'Nu from the Sv'Yato fleet. I believe you know its' Captain. [member="Livia Maddox"] is an old friend from Naboo. She'd give her left heel to conquer a planet with twenty people or less."

A shy smirk falls on my face for the girl I knew in our childhood. She was lonely and withdrawn, I was all over the map, how we stayed companions I'd have no clue but for my symbiotic collections. Halfway through my stammer, Mikhail appears in the glory of his shirtless skin and the sight's more welcome to my honey-hazel eyes than I want to admit. The line of his collarbone has this . . . oh gosh. It's a hickey. I gave Mikhail Shorn a hickey!

Thank the goddesses I rolled a 19!

"Awake." I cough and clear my throat as my fingers stroke down the side of my reddening cheek. There he is, [member="Mikhail Shorn"] with a fresh and lively glow standing beside us.

"I came to Lucien after Lipsec, Mikha. To catch the real perpetrators of the events. We were drugged, all of us were. If not for those xhar'chath. . . well. I ah, I wanted justice, I wanted the people who caused this mess and this pain to feel it, like I felt it. I didn't know who else to go to and Lucien, well, Lucien is a friend. Want to help wreak justice on the sods? Seems like Lipsec is giving us more trouble."

I reach out for his arm, and a flush of blood hits my cheeks. My lips part and I sip my wine glass dry as Mulligan the Servant Droid whooshes in. "Oh! Oh! Oh my! Master Mikhail! Master Mikhail! You left without your proper casings, Sir! Proper casings! I brought one! I brought a chest casing Master Mikhail! This one makes Lady Andra's pupils dilate the most when you wear it."

"Oh lord. Mu-Mulligan how did you . . ." I whimper. Why did I have to run out of wine?
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
"Whiskey?" A corner of his mouth quirked up. "Well why didn't you say so?"

The doppelgänger faded.

A minute later, a fully dressed and entirely physically present Mikhail entered the room wearing casual pants and a mostly unbuttoned black tunic. Cold blue eyes washed over Andra and Lucien, mischief glinting in them like a flash of sunlight off a glacier's surface. Strolling over, Shorn picked up the first bottle of liquor he saw and poured himself a glass before plopping down onto the sofa.

"So... you want me to help you kill a bunch of random people," The faux smile upon his features was just that, fake. Andra brought him here to help Lucien slaughter an army on Lipsec... for what, vengeance? He didn't care about them. They'd drugged him, sure, but it'd been Jared who'd ripped his mind to shreds, not the citizens of Lipsec. But here he was again, just a weapon that a Sith political figure wanted to use. Did anything ever change?

A stabbing in his heart reminded him of guilt and regret. He smothered it with apathy.

No, things never changed... and neither did he.

"When do we start?"

[member="Lucien Cordel"] [member="Anders Sivas"]
 
Lucien rolled his eyes it seemed to him that mikhail must have a sever allergy to shirts. He never seemed to wear them properly. Never the less he supposed this was the best he could hope for, at least he had somthing on. He drank then looked to mikhail.

"No Mikhail" he sighed "I do not want you to kill random people , I am no monster I do want you to kill for me though ... I trust this is still within your capability" he hoped mikhail had not gone soft or worse still crazy " I seek to usurp the royal family of lipsic and put the leading ministers to death, I was too lenient with regard to their treason, shatter their thrones for me" Lucien tapped the arm of his chair " but enough on such unsavoury topics I will write to lipsic now and invite us to the royal palaces." He had very little doubt the king would refuse him, and even if he did the guards at his door would not. He rose and walked over to his writing desk and began his message. "now I wish to hear of your adventures " it had been much to long since Lucien had seen mikhail.

Lucien much in the same way as mikhail had changed little he was still an insufferable snob , he was still rich and he was still well mannered. Had mikhail vocalised his view that he was once more a Sith Lords attack dog would probably have caused offence, Lucien rather hoped he was more than just a Sith, especially to mikhail.
 
I pour another glass of brandy as Mikhail comes in and I busy my lips with the glass to still the flattering grin that wants to plaster on my face. Bucket shakes its head and slaps its' face plate. He stands tall, but what I wouldn't give to know what my SC1 Battle Droid Bodyguard is thinking.

"Mikha..." Lucien coined it, but the fact settled ill with the resting coil of doubt in my gut. I glance over at [member="Mikhail Shorn"] fondly, comfortable enough in this place that I can unfurl my emotional net and be Andra. Mikhail Shorn is the kind of man who needs but doesn't ask. I sit on the arm of the couch, drape my hand on his arm and give him nothing but openness. "I didn't bring you here for Lipsec. I brought you here 'cause I could sense [member="Lucien Cordel"] needed us. We're all each other's got. If we don't stick together what are powers and riches and postures of grandeur? Other than good fun." My thumb rubs along the fabric of Mikhail's shirt and the act calms and thrills me. It hits my chest with a flutter of contented and glorious emotions. "If you don't want to go down to Lipsec, we won't go. I can send Maddox. She can help Lucien. Don't do anything you're not ok with doing, please, Mikha."

'Do you need a hug? I wasn't trying to trick you. Lucien needed to see us. Is it ok?'

I push my lips together, looking up at Lucien for some slim hope that he'd be able to convince. . . no, not convince. That our direction is set at the right trajectory. Death of a King, his council, selective execution. . . all because I asked for justice for my unborn son.

I started this.

Maybe I should be the one holding the bloody knife. Bear me a bodkin that I might thrust it in this pain Mikhail is feeling and shave off the apathy that holds him together. Lucien goes to his desk, and I let out a sigh. Lipsec cannot fall out of Fringe control. It's too integral a border world. The closest world I've been to my homeland of Naboo.

Who am I kidding? My home is the expanse around the Fringe. I slide onto the couch beside Shorn, my hand slipping up his arm to his shoulder and I sip my wine. "We might have another reason for the King of Lipsec to hear us. . . Bucket go ahead. I know you're dying to do it even once."

The droid snaps to attention and sweeps into a bow. Bucket's nearly buzzing his bolts loose, with what I hope is excitement and not some incredibly ill timed repair need.

"Presenting Her Radiance the Lady Andra Hadar Sivas, High Councillor for Military Affairs of the Fringe Confederation, Consecrated the Fifteenth Vision of the Goddess of Compassion by the Brotherhood of Cognizance, Abhayaradha Princess Emeritus of Theed, daughter of the Honourable Diantha Cynabel Naberrie and sired by the Venerable Baalam Sivas, Lord Sorcerer of the Nihil Retreat. Thanks, boss. I've been dying to say it and I know the likelihood of you letting me say it ever again is slimmer than Tus' stomach plates."

My cheeks flush a crimson red I'm sure is creeping around my entire body. "You kind of knocked loose a few things, Mikha. When you. . . you know. Kaboomed my Lifter. There were so many imprints in my head, I'd forgotten. . . Lucien, do you think the King of Lipsec will say no to two Councillors of the Fringe Confederation, one being a Duke twice over and the other being a Princess Emeritus and venerated of a sacred order, and the Throne Breaker? 'Cause it would take a loony toon to turn the three of us down. . . and I'm feeling self-conscious and silly right now and I never want to have to mention my political career on Naboo again. . . unless it helps our cause. What does it matter what I did when I was eleven, right?" I glance at the floor and mash my hands together, stealing a glance at Mikhail and raising my glass.

"Here's to friendship? And taming wayward royals?"
 

Lord Ghoul

Guest
L
The 'Thronebreaker' grit his teeth and forced a smile. Sometimes he loved the fear that name inspired, but mostly he hated the damned moniker. Titles were for nobility, for people who thought themselves elevated to a position of authority that they could- ugh, since when was he a philosopher? He didn't need a reason, just the deep feeling of revulsion in his gut that spat forth blistering hatred like chunks of molten rock from a volcano.

Still, making the bloated magpies squirm would be fun, even if he was doing it at the behest of yet another noble. A gleam of murder shone in his eyes as he stared at Lucien. Could he really? The thought vanished among other, viler thoughts. He'd killed Andra's unborn kid. The ache in his chest broadened, as though someone had shoved a vibro-spear in the wound and worked it around a bit. He'd killed her lover, almost twice, killed her kid, almost killed her, and now finally stolen her from an absentee Jared. Should he hate himself? No wait, he already did. It was just a lot harder to do with her around, loving him. How could a person suffer so much loss and still find the heart to give?

Well, he might be terrible at apologies, but nobody did indebted revenge better.

"The King of Lipsec won't say no, 'cause we're not asking."
 
Lucien affixed his seal to his letter "I have no doubt that his majesty will be hospitable to us, I just don't wish for it to be said that I came uninvited" he summoned his assistant and dispatched her with the letter and order to have his tings packed. He was careful to discreetly slip in a note reminding his servants not to forget his fuzzy slippers. He couldn't be certain of the quality of Lipsecs accommodation and it would be highly impractical for him to get cold feet.

Having handled the formalities Lucien returned to his armchair and poured himself another brandy. "I'm glad to see you haven't
gone soft Mikhail" he smiled "Andra please ensure he wears a shirt when go to see the king ... We have to keep up appearances" Lucien really hope Mikhail would be able to pretend to be highbrow for the few minutes it would take to carry out the greetings.
Hopefully Andra could restrain him.

A few moments later Lucien's assistant returned "All is ready your grace " Lucien nodded "I trust you and Lord Shorn will accompany me on my yacht" he stated before finishing his brandy and stood up.
 
I can feel the tension pouring into Mikhail's neck from the clench to his jaw. In moments like this I'm reminded on how Sith-like Mikha and Lucien actually are. I've spent most of my time in the Fringe protected and coddled away from the Darkness, here I am on my first weeks without my Mentalist Prince buffering me from the realities of life in the Unknown Reaches and I'm getting smacked in the face by the noble villainy of [member="Lucien Cordel"]'s sense of justice.

To Mikhail I push a sense of continuity and grace, the sensation of my care for him and my will that he go through this with what support I can give. After all, we're doing this for me. Should I feel the burn of guilt that seems so foreign to Lucien? My eyes cast from Lucien to Mikhail, I smooth a piece of his hair behind his ear and let my wrist rest upon his shoulder, pressing my chin on the back of my hand.

"The King should know this was a long time in coming." My eyes shut as a flush of an odd emotion fluctuates from my mind and through the mental connection to Mikha. I'm angry. Angry that the King would let the drugging happen, angry that he did nothing about it. Angry that [member="Dissero"] had to clean up the bloody mess of my child's death himself. The anger is such a foreign sensation it burns at my eyes like swelling tears. Taking a tight inhale, I hiss it out slowly and the anger dissipates upward, washed away by the balmy Light of the Force.

A gift to the empathic symbiont girl, the Force bestowed upon me the succouring prize of passing off anger, fear, frustrations in another direction. Up and away, the anger spills over and is carried off to give me that lightness of being which saves me from the Dark and Angered path. "As you wish, Lucien. I'll make sure Mikha has proper dress along. It's his choice if he wants to wear it or not. Bucket, go grab Mikha an outfit or two and grab my Glistaweb dress. The blue and gold off the shoulder one. Oh, and my necklace and hair combs bearing the seal of the Brothers of Cognizance. Thanks, Bucks. We'll meet you on Lucien's Yacht."

Bucket goes silently off to fulfill my request and soon enough we'll find ourselves on Lucien's luxurious yacht. "Yes, I'll have Bingo on standby to pilot the Sumatiyara to follow in-system in case we have need." Stepping to my feet, I dust off my trousers and offer Mikha my hand. "We're not asking. He steps in line and rectifies the situation, or he dies." I wince. "I . . wow that sounds. . . I promise I won't wince in the Throne Room. Let's go."

Inside Lucien's yacht, I excuse myself from Lucien and stand behind a viewport watching the stars veer by the transparisteel barrier. There's a planet of memories about to take my mind, am I ready for it? Am I ready to feel the spiritual imprint of the place my son died? As if a cold breeze struck my shoulders, I pull my arms around my lonely chest. "This is right. It's the right thing to do. It. . . it's. . . what am I gonna do in front of hoitey-toitey real life Nobles, Bucket? Every title I have was earned, as all titles are on Naboo. Nothing's handed down it's on your merit and yours alone. They'll smell peasant on me... sure I can pretend, but... Guess I am pretty dang proud of my High Councillor title. Earned that fair and square. And ... okay it's not so bad. But still. Is it right to ask so much of Lucien and Mikhail?" My voice trails off, I don't even know who I'm speaking to. Does it matter?
 

Lord Ghoul

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He accepted her hand and soon they were hustling and bustling about with activity. Mikhail took a glassful of bourbon with him into Lucien's yacht, muttering,

"You do know I was born to a Tapani baron, right?"

I just hated every moment of existence as nobility.

Maybe Andra could hear the thoughts in his head, maybe she couldn't. He wanted to confide in her, but he'd grown used to closeting away his secrets that it felt uncomfortable to open up to anyone, even her. Except when he was drunk, then he'd confide in anyone... and probably snap their necks afterward.

He tossed the contents of the glass into his mouth in a smooth, practiced motion.

There'd likely be some neck-snapping before this was over. He pursed his lips, frowning as Andra's butler-droid-thing scurried around like a kowakian monkey-lizard with its head cut off. Sometimes he longed to make the metaphor more approximate.

"Hey, don't you think Bucket would look better without a head?" Shorn asked Andra from across the room as the droid kept trying to fit him for appropriate costuming, not cognizant of her lonely musings.

[member="Anders Sivas"] [member="Lucien Cordel"]
 
A nod was all Andra got before Lucien swept from his study to oversee the last preparations his long suffering servants were carrying out. Having watched the last cases being loaded onto the yacht he took one last look at his patch of paradise. His hands would be freshly bloodied when next he saw it.

Justice was such a bloody mistress

Andra quickly too her leave from them, she was troubled that much was plain to see. Lucien considered for a brief moment his actions , had he been too forceful , was this too much for her.

He was snapped out of his thoughts by Mikhail. The man was once more antagonising bucket , Lucien seemed to think that's what Andra's bodyguard was called anyway.

"Don't be rude Mikhail , I don't think lady Sivas Is in the mood "

Lucien spoke aloud with a hint of amusement present in his voice

Then whilst providing no visible indication he spoke into Mikhail's mind "Go to her, she is torn comfort her"

Finally it was time for tea , Lucien poured himself a cup put his feet up and closed his eyes. Mikhail was a stubborn old fool, he would do as he wished Lucien could only advice.
 

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