Space Side Construction

[Corey's OOC]

At least there wasn't a problem with this new meeting. Marek Starchaser was spending more and more time in the Confederate space and not among the stars like he preferred. Hell, he was even piloting a tug earlier. Though, it was nice to get his hands dirty, the workers seemed to respond to that well. And one the days he was running crews from the shakedown stations out to the work site? That definitely made him a fan favorite. Plus, seeing as how he made the rules, bringing a keg out for a shakedown of some 20 hardened construction workers was a smart play.

He knew that he was supposed to be meeting at least one person up this way, to discuss something about the ground forces. At least they had that. He was dealing with the Bothan and Santhe to redo the fleet after how The Verd left it. Now it was time for the ground forces, and armor. As far as he remembered, [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] was not bringing anyone else along with her. And that was fine if she did, but really, Marek was trying to do his best to work with the crews out here, and that meant staying aboard the temporary float-tels that Arceneau Trade had so graciously set up.

They had creature comforts, but still, coming out of a day of moving gear, even one was the pilot had a lot of engine dust, oil, and long hours on a person. It was still better than the post-Druckenwell stress, and allowed Marek stick time. Stepping into one of the more quiet establishments, he nodded to the bartender, taking the second best bottle of whiskey in the house, two glasses and buying the first round of the most expensive whiskey in the house for the next three shifts to come, he took a seat off to the side, where he could see the entire place. Now it was just a matter of how Anesia would show up, and hopping to the Force that his construction men had the foresight to keep their mouths shut when there was a woman around. Leaning back in the booth, he poured himself a four finger pour and started sipping it.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

How she had arrived mattered very little in the grand scheme of things. The why was more important; for months she had made arrangements to meet with the dubious Techno Union Foreman and for months other things came up. Druckenwell just about summed it up- the preparation, the invasion, the aftermath, and the Lord Commander's assassination. The trail of those flames steadily licked at her heels and every now and again they caught up with her. Anesia supposed it was just the way of things. Her past seemed to do just that too. Everything burned and the Sith Master just so happened to have an unhealthy obsession with fire.

"General," a man acknowledged, lifting his sweat soaked head for a moment to make eye contact and nod.

Bright viridian duos captured his for those handful of seconds and she smiled in kind.

Now, since this was business, the Master had dressed accordingly, complete with the renown deep red lipstick and her lavish dark lockes of hair pinned up and away from her face. Instead of the normal skirt-suit, Anesia donned a simple, though well tailored black dress with a hem stopping just past her knees. Heels of the same hue click-tapped all the way down the walkway, announcing to the men that a woman was present.

Not just any woman they would soon come to find out. The clinking and clanging had halted for the most part, but the Sith Master paid little mind. Anesia could have asked where the Foreman was, but it was just plain better to feel him out. There were other Force users about, many signatures, but [member="Marek Starchaser"] 's stuck out like a sore thumb upon a white backdrop. There you are.

Upon entering the same establishment that Starchaser was inhabiting, she painted on a fresh smile and aimed her footing in his direction. She stopped, standing perhaps half a meter away, "Foreman Starchaser," the voice was cordial enough, but she leaned down so they were eye-to-eye. Slender deft fingers coiled about his drink in hand and before the man knew it, the glass was gone.

The siren had all but washed it away and passed off the empty tumbler to a passing waiter. "Another for the foreman," she added before the man whisked himself away.

 

[Corey's OOC]

To say things came up was pretty ironic. The reason he wasn't able to meet with General [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] was because someone dropped a station DOWN on a world. And he had to deal with that after math. Which, short of ensuring trade lines, and making new points of contacts for contracts, he needed to make sure that they were working on securing the rest of the factories and trade lines. The military will take care of the military, as it were. With the General arriving in the midst of a construction zone, he was only imaging how dire the situation was.

He wasn't quite sure it was a social call, hell, Anesia could reach him for a quick drink. But typically, the Foreman mantle was put away after hours, and he preferred to not mix business in his after hours life.

Looking up at the sound of her heels, and the nudging feeling that someone more powerful than he was in the Force was around, the Foreman couldn't help but smile. This was, of course, after giving her a potentially too long observation. To say that he didn't like dark hair was definitely, definitely a lie. Marek was the type who, if he didn't have the job, would probably have a few too many children in a few too many star systems.

Lucky for him, and the females of the galaxy, he had a job that kept him busy enough, and actually worried about his ratings in the public eye. And then she did the other thing that really grabbed Marek; displayed confidence. That was definitely his drink. Yes it was. Looking up at the waiter after she ordered another drink, he nodded and held up two fingers. He'd cover the tab. After all, it was good to be king.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

The words she knows, the tune she hums...

It was as if time had stopped; from the clinks of glasses to the shuffle of feet. The noise... you waited for it, expected it. One moment she was there and the next, even before the skin of your lids could meet in a blink, gone. This was in the middle somehow. "Don't fight it," said the voice and even though you willed your body to move, for your eyes to find the face to go with it, everything was stuck. At this rate, even the particles of dust were visible. Lights had cast shadows that were otherwise invisible.

"Marek," the woman repeated, "Marek."

One long limb had crossed over the other, her back against the chair. She looked positively comfortable in a rather uncomfortable piece of decor the bar had to offer. "How are the current relations between companies?" her hand came up, albeit cradling a short, almost square glass filled a quarter of the way. The procured drink of [member="Marek Starchaser"] still setting atop the table between them, untouched.

"Is something wrong, doll?"

Long, crimson manicured nails tapped the tumbler in anticipation. The contents were swiftly made an offering to her painted, full lips and then sucked back, leaving not a drop. "The Army needs upgraded equipment, new equipment," she gave pause, watching her own finger swirl about the rim of the glass. "It has been long overdue, before Verd even."

A tongue must always be careful, lest it get swallowed. "I was told you were the man to see such things through." Finally, Anesia sat the glass down and folded her hands just atop her knee. In a slow saunter of sorts, her jade gaze wandered from the tops of his shoes to his own eyes. The light smirk displayed upon her saucy mouth could only mean she approved. Never had the Sith Lord been the type to play coy. "Was I led astray, Mr. Starchaser?"

It was a dangerous game she played.

 

[Corey's OOC]

The energy that was in the bar was something else. He knew that it was just that, energy. People, beings, going through their lives. They had loved ones, dreams, bills to pay, people to miss, people they couldn't stand. Something was pulling him to the Force, and he thought he was pretty confident he knew what it was. Marek was part of the Starchaser line. They weren't always the strongest of Force users, even the one who sided with Palpatine hundreds of years ago wasn't the strongest Force user, but they made the Force work for them. Who they descended from were part of the Jedi Sentinels, the types to use technology to approach their ends. It was fitting that Marek was now the Techno Union Foreman, then, wasn't it? But still, it almost felt that they were more focused, more... pushed to the Force when they were around those that used it and were stronger in it than they were.

Did that have anything to do with the latent Drain and Tutaminis powers? Perhaps, perhaps...What was pulling at him?

The drink had arrived, and he was pulled from... wherever by @Anesia Vy'Jun speaking his name. "Huh?" He muttered, shaking his head, the cobwebs needed clearing, apparently. He forgot how much work these construction projects were on a being. Looking at the General, he shook his head, hand reaching for the glass before him. "Nothing is the matter." What was that? He didn't like it.

Felt like when he first started to learn from Ket.

Right, business call. Watching her drain the glass, he pulled his up to his lips, tanking the amber liquid and licking his lower lip, to clear any residue. Army, and their equipment, right. He was rebuilding this position from the ground up. What contracts there were before he took the office he was not sure, but he wanted to make sure he knew that the companies who worked for him were taken care of. He should speak to Santhe. "I've realized. With the war goin' on, we'd been worryin' on our shipyards, and the fleet." Because when someone came calling? The fleet was the one to guard the doors and windows.

"I know our army has been lackin', I've just gotten away from myself wit' all dis." Yeah, he'd been on the project again, his drawl would come back in. And with Verd. Yes, before he left things needed rebuilding. Looking around, he was hoping that no one was paying attention. Any mention of the government bothered Marek a bit.

Running a hand over his scruffed up, however maintained, chin, he was watching her watch him. Traditional Starchaser blue eyes met her jade eyes when they scanned him. Sure, maybe the Starchaser line was of the blue eyed variety, but he had the steel eyes, not the warmer, almost tropical sea color that his uncle had. The one that remained in the employ and guise of an Imperial officer. His were gunslinger eyes. Steel blue, and ready, albeit finding himself in a desk job.

"Well, I'm definitely the one that can help." He grinned. "Do ya have ideas on what we're lookin' for?" Hopefully keeping things simple. With Verd there were so many frelling tanks and a variety of things that were just a little tweaked from its nearest cousin. They didn't need that many frames, just different load outs. Like his new fleet idea.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

Really, her mesmerizing gaze said, but when her lips parted, "Good," was the response that came out. After all, Anesia was not here to play with the Foreman. It was goods she was after; ships, vehicles, armor, weapons. It was not only The Confederacy's men, but her men that were on the ground fighting. They were the ones who often died in battle; the numbers. The cost of war was high and the Army took the brunt of its payout in blood. Casualties, most would say. The least she could do was supply them with better toys to make that already signed death certificate worth while or too good to pass up. Simply, they were hers and she took care of what belonged to her. [member="Marek Starchaser"] would likely find this out sooner rather than later.

Anesia was all about sacrifice and making it look good.

There was a hint of a smile beginning to tug just at the corners of her lucrative mouth. "The best, clearly," she grinned back and leaned forward, placing her elbows on the table. "Would I be anywhere else if that weren't the case? Upgrades are good, but you can only do so much to crap and it still does not change the fact of it being crap." A single painted nail tapped on his glass, her other raising with two fingers signaling for the next round.

While they waited to be served, the General's hands topped his to slide the empty tumbler away. The wake of the Darkside rolled in soft, generous waves of what could be described as electric from her touch. It was a cool power, a seductive one with just enough pain that it rode the line of pleasure. "I was hoping you could help me with that, Starchaser," not to be confused with Starkiller, or she wouldn't be here right now.

"I need to see what is available," nestling back into the bar chair, she passed the dead glass onto the waiter that appeared in exchange for the freshly filled one. Her green eyes were still locked onto his almost metallic blue gaze with an unfettered intensity. "I trust you can make that happen? As it goes, your judgement and opinions matter to me. You would not be in your position," a single, dark brow lofted, "if you were lacking in that area of expertise."

 

[Corey's OOC]

Wasn't it a fun thing, being here and being in charge of more? Maybe. It made it so people weren't listening in. Being the Foreman was hard to find, but one thing that Marek did have was his astromech, the one who had been upgraded to counter any kind of bugs, and notice patterns. Patterns of beings following him. So he could get some peace and quiet, and not have to worry about sounding like the revolutionary he was. Maybe they were claimed to be terrorists, but the blight of the Verd leadership needed to be pulled from the Confederacy. And the best way? That was at the point of a gun.

Or lightsaber.

Starfighter.

Or tank.

The latter one was what he needed more of. That and the BlasTech products. "Aye, any thin' than can be upgraded can only git so far." He nodded, agreeing. And while the fleet was the one that was first in defense, the army was the first in offense. He hadn't had anyone come to him for this, and sometimes working with the Techno Union meant working in tandem with so many other people. Within the Confederacy, from out of the Confederacy but willing to share technology in the Techno Union, or at least collaborate.

Feeling [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] in the Force was something... exciting. Really, that was the best term he could come up with. Exciting, pleasurable, dark, and powerful. All the feelings he enjoyed and searched for. The feeling of passion, was that? Passion. It had to be, that was what he craved in life. He nodded.

"Right now we've got a contract filled from BlasTech, to replace the aging slugthrower weapons from Czerka. The CEO was kind enough to provide us with updated versions of our energy weapons as well. Those will be sent off to your units after this conversation." He grinned, grabbing his datapad. Were they really not given out yet? He needed to discuss with his contact in the Intelligence wing.

"And tanks... We're dealing with a lot of products from Santhe, and they create very solid products, quick production, and very, very solid." He opened up the Santhe manifest and slid the datapad across the table, reaching out to her in the Force. Needing to feel that again. He watched her, his steel blue eyes tracing her features.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

A salesman. "You're not selling me, Mistah Starchaser," Anesia said, pulling the drink in for a taste, masking a rather demure smile. As a woman quite in favor of narcissism she could not very well show such a response. "What do you want protecting you?" slender fingers drew to her neck, brushing away the stray strands of dark hair, transfixed one even behind her ear. "You are the man with the answers. So tell me, Marek, what would you like?"

Another tip of the glass spilled more amber down her throat. "Mmm." The datapad slid across the table then assumed course, floating to her lap. Ferrius glanced down, curling her arm in as if to cradle her drink. The first bits that were visible, she read through rather slowly. A brow would raise, then fall. The same with her mouth; a corner would twitch, then assume the position of just being enticing. Nails tap-tapped upon the tumbler.

Even though she was very aware of the foreman's eyes upon her, Anesia made no protest. Nor did she seem uncomfortable.

"Whatever they got," she paused, sliding the too smooth pad of her finger down the screen, then enlarged the description of one of the tanks by adding in her thumb and dragging it away from the pointer. "...hmm." Double tapping the screen and drawing the page down further, "I want repulsorcraft. They're more... versatile, in my experience."

Long black lashes fluttered in a blink and Jy'Vun peered up at the man across from her. "I suppose we could put orders in for all types of ground vehicles, but that seems a touch too much and unnecessary. What do you think?" In a single fluid motion, Anesia stood, balancing her drink with her hand, the datapad with telekinesis, and then the chair, dragging it with her foot to rest just alongside [member="Marek Starchaser"].

While she had experience, ions of it even, with technology, it was not exactly her forte. "Show me which you know to be the best, most solid tanks. If they are not up to the specs I want, can they be modified?" She settled in her seat once more, allowing the datapad to land upon the larger space of the now shared arms of the chairs. Anesia angled her body towards him, catercorner, so that he had room to move and crossed her left leg over her right.

 

[Corey's OOC]

That was the one big trick. Marek Starchaser was not an engineer. He was someone who ran a business. He made things work, and made sure the right people were in touch with the people they needed. That was running the Techno Union. Spotting companies out, getting them contracts, and sending people who needed advice to them, for new products, gear, or tactics. To say he enjoyed his work, well, it was networking, that was nice. When @Anesia Vy'Jun put the ball in his court, he nodded before taking a sip of his own drink.

"We're working to tighten the belts on the Confederacy. With what has gone on, we're trying to downscale our military and cut the shear variety of products." He was sounding formal now, go figure. "We're looking for fast attack tanks, heavy artillery, and armored troop transports, both on land and in the air. Combat airspeeders would not go amiss." Plus, they were buying Tenloss Skocha's for some of their military.

This one was different. Something about her. Marek wouldn't lie, were the table not here and they were meeting on other circumstances, he would be acting different. But the public's eye was here, and he was trying to not get himself killed, mostly. She had a confidence to her that he was starting to crave.

Or that was the Force, whichever.

Grinning, he nodded. "Repulsorcraft are definitely better. Plus, less moving parts." No need to that much of combat repair training. That was one reason he loved the twin ion engines, it made things easier. When she stood, he watched her, feeling the Force around and grinning. As she sided up to him, he nodded.

Grabbing the datapad, he opened up the contract from Tenloss, for the Skocha tanks. "We've got these coming in." But for the remainder of the gear...? "You're the tactician. What do you prefer to work with?"

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

A single bewitching digit scraped along the rim of her glass, it still turned in with her right hand at the base of her neck, clinging to it. She nodded when he agreed. "The frakkin' things are so bulky," Anesia said on a sigh, referring to tanks in general. She preferred sleek and maneuverable. Alas, sometimes bigger things just needed to hammer down and crush the opposition. The chunks of an orbital ship yard falling, while not a vehicle, came to mind and the Sith laughed abruptly. She shook her crown of dark tresses side-to-side, dismissing the scene.

Meanwhile, [member="Marek Starchaser"] had claimed the datapad and when he mentioned an arrival, she peered over and caught the glare from the dim lighting upon the screen. This meaning she had to move from the comfort she had just created. After stealing the last of the liquid from the tumbler, she ran her tongue across her lips to catch the the residue of what was left and set the glass aside. Artificial appearing green eyes moved over the graphics and she slid closer to get a better look and rested her elbows where the datapad had been so her chin could cradle in her palms.

"My hands," Anesia answered and gave a light, beguiling smile. "Ahh... you meant types and materials, I imagine," her laugh was innocent, but her smile had grown a shade darker than it had been. "Armor wise, I would love to get my hands on the Mandalorian variety. Phrik and cortosis are arguably better... but I thought to maybe combine at least two of..." pausing, she glanced up at him, "meld Mandalorian armor with Phrik."

Phrik meant mining and she was not entirely sure there was time for that. "Then again, if we were to go through all that, why not powersuits? It would cost about the same after it is all said and done." While she wanted her men protected, the thought of picking what could be their life savers in the event of war, suddenly felt all too consuming. Her hand moved, crossing over his wrist to move the page down. "So many things to do, so little time."

Both brows drew together, then one perked. "Marek, let's take a walk. Show me the progress thus far."

 

[Corey's OOC]

It wasn’t his place to make choices, he was just the one who followed the demand. But he did have a need to keep repair costs down. Probably why he was enjoying Santhe, he… well, Santhe was a company he was hoping to work further with. And they had cheap goods, that was nice. Cheap, mass produced and frakking wonderfully constructed. Solid pieces all around. It was a matter of making the right call,

He did have the datapad, sometimes he preferred to drive. Hell, most of the time he preferred to drive. Watching his new companion finish the liquor, he nodded. More a notice of her being finshed, and if he could just grab the ‘tender’s attention. They had work to do, but why not relax while doing it? Pulling up the Skocha he made sure that she had a look. “Tenloss developed this piece of machinery, and my predecessor ordered a bunch of them.” So they might be renewed, he enjoyed them, at least. That was before he returned to the Santhe stock site.

Taking a second, a bit space weary, to say the least, he shook his head when he go the joke. Clearly, his attention was brought to her hands, and that lead to him giving her around look over. Both with his eyes and the Force, reaching out and giving a light tug to her aura. Sensing where she was, what she was and that intoxicating power that she had. Materials and gear. “Beskar, huh? I’ll need to do some heavy hunting to find that, cortosis however, we do own a mine for that.” And he was hoping to push his company that way. Haor Chall and Resource Chasing were developing linked products, after all.

“If you can get your hands on Beskar, I know several engineers that would love to play with it.” Play here being an adjective for work with, but she was going to understand that, he assumed. Though, melding, that could be a very strong tool in the Techno Union. “I’ve been playing with power suit ideas, keep our men and women alive longer.”

He needed to put her in contact with some of the direct contractors. That was doing well for the Fleet, for sure. Watching her hand move, he tipped his head at her. Steel blue eyes watching her, he pressed his aura to her again, red tendrils pulling at her. “Let’s.” He nodded, motioning for her to lead the way, or at least holding his hand out for her to use to get to her feet. Gentleman, after all., but something about @Anesia Vy'Jun brought it out.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

"That," she pointed at, finger wavering above the screen at the Skocha, "I like. You say they've been ordered already..." curious, she blinked up at him. "When do we expect to receive them? I would like to be there when they do." The toe of her stiletto moved in circles. "If that is... a reasonable request, Mr. Starchaser?"

Cortosis, right. How had she forgot? "Speaking of cortosis and being that we mine it, who do I speak with to get a small shipment," the question was odd, "to my residence?" The alchemist in her wanted to experiment and as it were, could not hurt to ask since they were upon the subject already. It also brought the idea of a lab to the front of her mind and she smiled at the thought. That was a different discussion for a different time.

"If I could ge-" the darkness that slumbered roused. It roused just enough to strike with the inky, wanton power of the dark lady in defense. The tendrils of her own so deep a purple it appeared black. "If I could get a merchant in that sector willing to sell to us, would you mind overseeing the transaction?" The barest hint of devilry shone through the means of a lopsided grin. Her hand had fell on the datapad and with light pings of her fingertips, she pulled up The Confederacy Armory. "We need to sell, trade, or break some of these ships down." Surely the pieces and systems could work with other things...

While she was lost in thought, Anesia felt it again. Him rather and it stirred her own from its restless state. Ferrius' green gems flicked to him, the barest flecks of violet shimmering in those alien'esque' pools. Her small, delicate hand was then placed into his and she stood, untangling her long legs in the process. The power of the Darkside ebbed and flowed from, what had to be every pore of her alabaster skin. "Hmm..." her gaze dropped and the little space between them closed.

It was only for a minute. Enough to lean in, press her saccharine mouth to his ear and speak below a whisper, "Careful, [member="Marek Starchaser"]." Sweet, sweet madness. Power trailed, licked along his skin, spreading like sin upon the moon, Nar Shaddaa. Anesia pulled back at his aura, only in strings, and the fingers she created of the ether began to strum and pluck as if it were an instrument to be played.

 

[Corey's OOC]

He looked over at [member="Anesia Jy'Vun"] and grinned. “They’ve been being delivered in small numbers, I’m just waiting for the right units to use them. I will have them delivered wherever you’d like them to go?” He nodded, simple and clean cut. He was trusting the Force on this, and well, Salem’s calls on connecting these two. It had to mean something.

Pulling up another screen on his datapad, he typed in a name and frequency, before sending it to the dark haired woman’s personal inbox. “That is the foreman over on da Katannos… six mine.” He almost sounded sure on the number. “They’re accomidatin’, and there is also equipment that one of my ventures have developed on the surface for private mining, if it’s a personal project.” It was armor, he wasn’t so sure. A discblade was personal, for him.

He closed his eyes for a second, more than a blink, and took a deep breath. There was power here. That was a game, wasn’t it? The power, and the nudging? He opened his eyes again as she continued to speak. Really, this was an intoxicating power, that she had to her. “If you find someone to sell, I’ll make sure we’ve got a fair deal.” He nodded. Watching her fingers, he nodded. “Its been a projec’ ‘tween me and fleet command, so far, to ramp down our offerin’s. Havin’ a half dozen frigate frames ain’t all dat good. One er two be fine, with a variety of trim levels.” He wasn’t catching his speech as well around her.

What WAS that?

“We are able to cannibalize them, and see what profit we can make, or emplacements on stations and worlds.” Right, business. Focus. And then that was gone. Feeling her hand touch his, and watching her legs, and her curves. Marek was definitely appreciative of a nice body, however its make. And the damned extras on this one. He was standing up after her, still reaching, through the Force, as she leaned in.

Words spoken, not meant for others, and even if only a warning, were something private. Something powerful. Something primal. That was how he always sensed that through his wanderings of the galaxy. He was entering a heady space right now, and he wasn’t wanting to come down, still, his eyes wandered from her towards the door, while the tendrils entwined, private to them, unknown to the outside observer.

Who was playing who, here?

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

"You've really," her hand grazed his cheek, fingers playing on the scruff, "no idea." So young, she thought as they trailed away, dropping, flitting over the fabric of Marek's shirt before vanishing to her side once more. The power, like slivers of ribbon followed in the footfalls of her wake when Anesia moved away towards the door. Too close. Too many listeners, viewers. There was just no telling where deceit lied and truth grew anymore. Both shared the same turned up soil, the same seeds.

What would flourish depended on the environment and passion on either side of the spectrum bloomed both light and dark.

With a toss of her head, mesmeric green eyes were cast over the line of her thinly veiled shoulder. This time it was her turn, but she did not make an offer; her finger crooked and she beckoned [member="Marek Starchaser"]. There was nothing courtly about it, it was a command however inviting it seemed.

The automated durasteel doors slid open, revealing the same hallway as before. She did not so much as wait, but stepped towards one of the massive expanses of transparasteel to view space beyond. "Beautiful," whispered the woman, appreciating the endless inky blanket of stars that seemed to be on display just for her in those few moments alone. While Anesia favored the surety of the ground and the gravity, there was a certain allure to eternity that only space could offer. And a certain fear, she remembered, pressing her soft hands to the clear alloy.

Those who played with fire, often ended up burned.

 

[Corey's OOC]

No idea, huh? He couldn't help but smile as he watched her. Watching her body, watching her face, feeling her power. He had no choice but to follow her, no desire to do anything less. He was going to follow, and watch, observe, taste, and bind to. It was how he worked. People got stuck in his head, and there was an intense... passion that laid beneath the surface. Something that didn't come out when he was just dealing with the day. He closed his eyes, taking a breath to center his headspace. Bring him back to the here, to the now.

There was the physical touching, that was something. And then there was the feeling radiating off of her. That was what he wanted. He wanted all of that, that power, the radiation. He could just take it in, and use it for himself. He needed a source like this, somewhere to pull power, to give himself more. It was almost an empty feeling when she let go.

That was not a fun feeling. Still, he was going to follow, had to follow.

He knew that control was never definite, it was almost always fluid, battles, space, the Force. For now, he was following. And he would take what he needed, what he was desiring.

That was definitely his key word.

Desire.

Yearning.

Stepping up to the transparisteel, he nodded to her adjective. "It really is. I've spent a lot of my life between the stars. Its home." And dark, and fulfilling and terrifying, and comforting. Everything that home and belonging needed to be. When there was that feeling, between beings, about a place, it should hit the whole range of feelings. He couldn't help but nod as he looked at her, standing close, arm touching hers, his eyes scanning the reflection of the hallway in the viewport. Empty. Just the two, and really, that was all that was needed.

It was a dance, after all.

"You're more for planetside, aren't you?" His voice clearing up.


[member="Anesia Jy'Vun"]

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

A hint of a smile, the shadow of one, touched her lips and Anesia watched his reflection. "Sometimes," she offered to his inquiry honestly, but gave no details. It was all really according to what needed to be done and what she wanted at the time. While planetside offered a singular center to pull from, space boasted endless possibility. It was more enticing than any being she ever had the pleasure of crossing paths with. Gravity offered control. She turned to [member="Marek Starchaser"], a chemical fire burning in her gaze, "You look, but do you really see?" The great expanse of infinity did not hinder. In fact it was made for creation and destruction and exploration. Not a soul could grasp the entity completely; it was not corporeal. It just simply was.

That in itself is what made people desire it. To covet that to which was not theirs or unable to be. It was the process though, the grand chase, the power that surely came? The mystery and the dream.

Giving a soft, satisfied laugh, Anesia drew her vivid depths away from the stars and settled them on [member="Marek Starchaser"]. Like pages in a book, flashes- mere glimpses - of her rather vulgar, dark past; a variety of scenes that placed her far above and then atop a pedestal brandished in deviance, hunger, and power. Those pieces of vivid and uncouth truth clung to his thought like ridged teeth and proceeded to tear away at his metaphysical walls. The great maw of the darkside opened and closed, inserting it's venom with each new score of aura it pierced anew.

The monster was ravishing, but spawned from the very bowels of whatever nightmare haunted you and then suddenly became your salvation. She was whatever you wanted her to be, where you wanted her to be.

Just like that, the darkness crept back, slithering to where it belonged.

Marek had wanted a taste, perhaps only thought he did and she served it to him over a pyre of dancing flames. "Shall we?" plush, decadent lips were pressed at starting of his jaw, just at his ear in a chaste kiss. Anesia's ambition truly knew no bounds and her appetite for power ever insatiable. Stepping away, the dark master began her slow saunter down the barely lit corridor.

 

[Corey's OOC]

This was what he liked, subtly, body language and cues. Reaching for @Anesia Jy’Vun, he wasn’t letting go. The Force was going to find her and keep him rooted here. If rooted was even what was going on. He wasn’t quite sure, but still, it worked. It was keeping his head where he wanted it, and he was getting his fix. The fix that he knew there wasn’t a cure for. He was, in a word, screwed. There was probably a way to get over this, and he would need to discuss what the hell the Force was telling him to his Master, even if Ket might not be able to help.

Not that he believed that. Ket was ancient and highly intelligent. He knew his art. Does he really see? Looking over at her, his steel eyes tracing her features and finding her verdant eyes, he blinked slowly. See? He was here, he was in the here and now. For Marek, like most Starchasers there was never any connecting to the Unifying Force, just the Living, the passionate, raw, emotion filled part of the Force. The one that fueled their thoughts and feelings. “What am I seeing? I see the world, I see the ship yard, I see a power source, I see war and preparation and security.” And hopes, dreams, the lives of thousands. He could feel them, he could reach to them and take. It was right there.

He just needed the power. The strength. Desire he was never shy on. When she turned to him, he was opening to sip from the power she was unleashing, and that was when he was falling. Falling in, falling through, feeling everything. The power, the rage, the envy, desire. There was so much. He could feel it tingling, crawling through his being like blue electricity. His hand found the sill near the transparisteel as he watched her. The empty feeling coming when she pulled away.

What was that?

And how did he get it again? “We shall.” He nodded, breathing catching up again as he watched her begin to walk. There was only the momentary stall to give her the proper glance before following.

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

Ambition. [member="Marek Starchaser"] had it. But would he dare to plunge head on into the abyss? Loose it all for the sake of power?

"So," she began, giving a sideways glance to the man beside her, "how is Ket these days?" Anesia had previously met the renegade Sith, ions ago really. The scent of Van Derveld hung like drapes about Starchaser's aura. She remembered the ambiance of a crowd and suddenly smiled. It was so very long ago, the master hand nearly forgot. Loud-mouthed and rude, but they had a certain respect for one another and tended to stay out of each other's hair.

On another note, "What brought you to The Confederacy, Marek... under Isley Verd, moreover?" The mere mention of them man soured her face; incompetence. Footfalls turned into more of a smooth glide upon the shiny, dark gray flooring of the walkways. "I suppose the right dose of charisma could cloud a... person's judgement for a time." Anesia for one though, never liked the man, felt him inferior. Isley Verd may have very well had the 'qualifications' for a Sith down, but the same could not ring true about his tried and tested failure at leadership. The dichotomy between Verd and Noronganchi was so substantial that The Confederacy itself was being completely thrown asunder and brought back out as something entirely different. It had not the same face, nor the same feel.

As an alchemist, the woman merely frowned at his 'works'. She could not even respect what he had done there. Pale hands clapped, then folded together as they walked. "I never understood how such a feeble man could hold office for that amount of time." Perhaps the people liked being manipulated. Anesia would test that theory soon enough.

 

[Corey's OOC]

For the sake of power, maybe not. Power for its own sake wasn't something the Starchaser wanted. It wasn't what his family did. As much as he was all for learning and growing and NOT being the Imperial inspired and governed Starchaser, like his cousin Jared, he was still a Starchaser at his base, and for better or worse he still had the morals that seemed to be passed down. He would sacrifice it for a taste, to feel and fall into the passion and power. To try to work it into his very being. It wasn't safe, but very few things that were worth anything in this galaxy were.

Asking about his Master now? "He's... Ket." The one time Confederate full time outlaw and Sith was a great Master, there was so much power in him, as well as his mate. Marek missed traveling with them, but there were times when he needed to be here doing his job. Looking out to the stars, he nodded. He really wanted to be out there. "He does his thing, and seems to allow me to live when i'm with him, so I can not fault him there." Simple enough, really. Marek was hoping to provide the Master with a replacement to the ship he flew, once

"Traveling with him is a bit better of a move though. The reason I'm here? Thats the Templar. My father raised me to always question and always improve myself. For me, that meant doing what I could to learn where I could. And the Templar Seekers, with their focus on uncovering the secrets? Well, it fit." He was still looking out to the stars, the aura about him pulled a little closer for his introspection. He really was like a shark in a pen here. "Verd put me in charge of the Techno Union once I succeeded my father as CEO of Haor Chall, and I've still been trying to figure out why." It wasn't that Marek disliked the man, initially, Verd confused him. And later on? He learned to not trust the Sith Mando...thing. Marek was more motivated by credits, and with Norongachi in charge now? It felt that the Confederacy had found a leader they could rally behind.

Until the assassination. Now? The Starchaser was a bit lost.

"Honestly, I really don't think it was him. His cabinet really did the work, and part of them failed at it. The changes are going to be welcome." That was, if they rallied and overturned the old guard. He looked around, knowing they weren't being followed, but still, he was pulling himself in far from the Force, just in case. And feeling starved.

@Anesia Vy'Jun

 

[Anesia Jy'Vun]

"Not all," she commented, just under her breath, touching on both Verd's cabinet and the welcoming of changes. "We all have to play our part and even then," her arms came up, one to cross just under her chest and the other's elbow perched upon the wrist, motioning with her hand past her face, "it usually isn't enough." There were always those few restless souls hellbent on ruining plans just for the sake of ruining plans. The darkness in her eyes twinkled with the eternity of stars laid out before them and she sighed in anticipation.

The taste of plot thickened and curled on her tongue, "When is this shipyard due to be complete?" Companies, projects, they all often had a dead line and what with war being in the air, this was exceptionally true. They moved along the hall at a slow pace, leisurely, both gathering a feel for one another and their surroundings. "You're young," Anesia made note, "very young to have already succeeded your father. It is clear to me that you are ambitious, but still, it seems unlikely that you would want to be piled up with work at your age? But rather out enjoying life.?If I may be so bold as to ask, what happened to your father?"

So far what had been completed of the shipyard seemed solid, well-made. Through the use of the Force, her sights had swept like a microscope, searching for flaws. Anesia had found none yet. Her attention drew back to [member="Marek Starchaser"]. "That brings me to my next question, what are your connections with Miss Arceneau?" The gods knew the business woman, Danger, had her pinky in every cup galaxy-wide and while she could appreciate ambition-again, there's that word- it made her wonder.