First Reply Space

[Meya Liefi]

OOC NOTE: Anyone, regardless of faction affiliation, is welcome to join. Feel free to enter the thread in whatever creative way you can think of.

One of Meya’s vessels moved through hyperspace.

Far from the bridge and the occasional activity of the crew, one of its private quarters remained undisturbed. The room itself was modest by Meya's standards. Functional. Comfortable enough. Temporary.

Meya sat alone. Deep crimson fabric draped elegantly around her as she occupied a cushioned chair near the room's viewport. The dress was unmistakably Dathomiri in origin, as she was headed back home for a while again. Gold embroidery wound through portions of the fabric while thin chains rested against dark hair that had been left largely unbound for the journey.

An ancient tome rested open across her lap. Its pages had long ago yellowed with age. Diagrams filled portions of the margins alongside notes written in several different hands accumulated over centuries of ownership. Some passages had been crossed out entirely. Others had been underlined so aggressively the ink had nearly bled through the parchment.

Meya turned a page. The soft rustle of paper briefly interrupted the quiet hum of the vessel.

Her attention never wavered. Elsewhere aboard the ship, conversations were held. Crew members worked. Machinery operated. None of it concerned her.

Golden eyes moved steadily across the text. Occasionally, she paused, lingering upon a particular paragraph before reaching for a nearby stylus and adding a brief note of her own in the margin. Most were only a few words long.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Meya Liefi
​

The hyperspace lanes sang in a hum as he crossed the threshold into Meya's private sanctuary with a casual gait. The door behind him sealed with a more pneumatic sigh. Only a short time passed since the recent battle. Shadows of Humbarine remained.. the pulverized architecture and corpses that littered its streets. Reflections clung to him like dust. From his own perspective, most of the destruction had served little purpose other than an excavation of the Dark's insatiable appetite. It was.. weirdly clarifying. While many of his peer might've believed that as a reminder of what their path demanded, he saw a different map altogether. One he was attempting to decipher.. even now.

Perhaps that was exactly why he found allure in this brief exile from the Core. This little journey away from the more familiar duty and expectation. He would sooner lose his tongue than whisper it to Meya, but this stolen moment of respite tasted like a small victory in its own right.

Her presence during that battle was not lost on him, just as he recognized her presence in the governor's mansion during the aftermath. But obligations pulled him elsewhere. Their time on Byss had been different. Whether it was rapport or mutual awareness, he couldn't quite say. If anything, a willingness to tolerate her presence for a longer stretch of time. But here, amidst her ship, he was simply a guest. A transient shadow in a realm where, for once, the deck may have not stacked in his favor. Lysander chose a chair across from her, lowering himself into it in a way that suggested more fatigue over the usual discipline carried.

The silence stretched before he gazed to the book in her hands; this too reminded him of the tome on Byss when they'd worked against more nefarious works of the Collector. The emissary knew it wouldn't take much to irritate her. Breathing the same air might have been enough. The Sephi had a talent for making a room feel like a test one had not been told the rules for. That was putting it lightly..

To bridge that familiar gap, Lysander leaned forward, resting both elbows on his knees, steepling his fingers to mask the fatigue that would have otherwise been evident in one's hands. "Would you dare to explain to me what happened on Dathomir now?" A tilt of the chin accompanied a secondary solicitation. "Or perhaps," lips curled into a mirthless smirk, "does the standard of hospitality here remain perpetually.. impoverished? Nourishment is, after all, a rather fundamental courtesy." Tea would suffice, the galaxy's most reliable ally.

​

 

[Meya Liefi]

Tag: Lysander von Ascania​

Meya tapped the stylus once against the edge of the tome before finally looking up.

"Two Covenant Sith landed on Dathomir without invitation."

Her gaze returned briefly to the tome resting across her lap. In hindsight, she supposed she could have extended an invitation once she learned they were there. The thought had simply never occurred to her. Why, exactly, was it her responsibility to babysit wandering Sith?

"They proceeded to get caught lying, trespassing, and sneaking about the planet." A page rustled softly beneath her fingers. "When the consequences of those actions eventually caught up to them, they injured several sisters and brothers during their escape."

Whether the matter would eventually reach the attention of the Mandalorian Empire or simply disappear beneath countless other concerns was, as far as Meya knew, impossible to predict.

Politics had never been her speciality. That was more Lysander's domain, wasn't it?

She realised, somewhat belatedly, that she would not have shared this with most people. Their relationship remained difficult to define, but somewhere along the way she had begun placing a degree of trust in Lysander. The realisation was mildly irritating.

The primary concern, for Meya, was her clan. Some sisters might eventually begin urging her to distance herself from the Sith Covenant altogether. Meya had little interest in doing so. The organisation remained useful, and she was not yet prepared to surrender the opportunities and resources that came with it.

"You will be my guest on Dathomir." She studied him for a moment. "Your actions will therefore reflect upon me."

"As a male, you may find it more difficult to be taken seriously by some sisters."

The next observation arrived in precisely the same tone one might use to discuss weather patterns, crop yields, or the properties of a mineral sample.

"But if you choose to spread your seed, you will likely find yourself more appreciated. Introducing outsider genetics into a clan is generally considered beneficial, provided the male is healthy and Force-sensitive. You satisfy both criteria."

Meya considered the matter for another moment.

"You may not find your particular version of hospitality on Dathomir, though you may find nourishment in the attention of several sisters."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Meya Liefi
​

Leaning forward, elbows braced against his knees, a silence settled between them. An emerald gaze traced the lines of the Sephi, analytical and unblinking; the room offered little else of interest for him. But then a hint of movement summoned his gaze toward the ancient tome. Curiosity momentarily conquered his composure while studying it as well. How it rare it was, to feel parchment beneath one's fingertips. He imagined that was a superior sensation, compared to some glowing datapad. How many more of these mystical artifacts cluttered her private sanctum?

As she began to speak, it was almost.. ironic. Truly. Fresh alliances between the Covenant and the Mandalorian Empire were still in their infancy, particularly after Humbarine and those wretched usurpers. The Sith never took kindly to these things. Her revelation should've been concerning. War had been birthed by lesser secrets than these. So, a myriad of questions crowded his consciousness, though he buried the instinct to name them aloud. Surely that would've been insufferable for Meya. Still, another part of him wanted the Council to remain blind to this development.. at least for now.

Should Lysander have felt gratitude for her bringing this intelligence to him directly? Trust, or some woven deceit? One never truly knew with their kind..

"You're certain they lied," the emissary noted while tenting his fingers. "But Sith rarely act without purpose, and they also rarely act without signaling it. Tell me, what did your people miss?" At least the Sith from their Order. His tone remained gentle while brewing suspicions began piling. "A word from you might have prevented injuries, no?" He didn't wish to blame her, but there were some holes in the story.

For better or worse, their conversation took a small turn. "An entire clan of those just like you," added with notes of wryness,"And here I was under the impression being around you had already taught me what it felt like not to be taken seriously. But alas, I have no qualms living with skepticism."

There was a familiar pull to their dance, though the word 'guest' immediately fractured his casual indifference. "Then I suppose I'll have to behave as one," murmured thoughtfully, his thumb brushing against his jawline. "Though I imagine your sisters will find me a curiosity long before they find me a threat."

Glancing downward, he scrutinized his nails as if the conversation had lost its luster. "An entire world where men struggle. You know, Meya, this explains so much about you. However, if my actions reflect on you, then you should decide what you want them to say." That was giving her a lot of power in some sense, but it might prove to make things interesting, if nothing else.

A corner of his mouth twitched. "I genuinely can't tell whether you see me as livestock or a strategic resource sometimes. Though you do seem awfully invested in the matter. Which is it?" This particular exchange was certainly not something for the Council's ears either. Whether this served to build the necessary rapport between them remained to be seen. "As the Point Emissary, I'm obligated to carefully consider all opportunities presented before me." A smirk dared to grace his lips. "They should at least buy me dinner first."

Stepping into a den of nexu was a hobby he was often prepared for, but caution would still dictate the moment. "Well, before I commit to Dathomiri social customs, I do believe I'm entitled to at least one cup of tea aboard this little ship of yours. After that, I suppose you'll have another lecture for me to endure." He'd never say it aloud of course, no sense in encouraging her, but he did find their disagreements refreshing.