Private Spector of Omman

[Scoria Harik]

Objective: Root out a threat to the Empire
Location: Harik Family Estate, Omman
Outfit: Fancy Local Dress
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bag of “dolls”
Tag: Drenn

Scoria muttered angrily under her breath as she paced the walkway between the main house and the small landing pad of the Harik estate. How did it escape her that another Ommani noble was able to touch the Force. How was it possible that a noble family on her home planet would oppose the rule of the Empire? Scoria had been trained to notice these things. And yet it had come to pass that there was indeed the high possibility that there was a treacherous anarchist in the midst of noble civility on Omman.

What made matters worse was that the news had made it to Lianna and to the Grandmaster of the Crusaders. Now she was sending one of her dogs to help make sure that nothing built from the threat. Leru Raste was the last person that Scoria would have thought even a twinge of connection to the Force. Most likely a ruse. But to what goal? Who would the Raste family betray the Empire to? The Sith perhaps. That would be a good reason to hide themselves from the loyal Imperials on Omman. Could there be another power at work here? Could they just want independence from the perceived outsiders that now sat on a throne on Lianna? There were so many possibilities and Scoria hated being the one kept in the dark.

The Crusader shuttle landed before Scoria who hugged her Force-imbued doll one last time for luck before she steeled her face and prepared for the meat-headed simpleton that the militant Crusaders had sent to trample all over the delicate situation that existed on her home planet. At least she had been granted the ability to liaison between the Raste and the Crusaders. As the shuttle’s ramp slowly descended, Scoria growled again, remembering the dances she had been forced to endure with Leru Raste. The boring conversations that he tried to keep up with and she desperately wanted out of. The brags of athletic prowess in school It was so disheartening to know he at some level was her equal.

There was a bit of shock and amusement that fell over Scoria however when the Crusader assigned to this mission revealed himself. Drenn, she believed his name was. Personal bodyguard of the Grandmaster. Someone that Scoria had encountered in the recent past. Someone that she had managed to get one over on when she convinced him and Zoltidas it was best for her to handle the holocron on Garel using her doll in order to avoid the madness that took all who handled it. In the end the Crusaders were given access to the information within the holocron, but the fact that Scoria was the one to hand it over was a win in her books. ”Welcome to Omman. Drenn I believe it was, I’m sorry if I don’t know what superlatives your Order prefer, or if you are deserving of any other titles based on your lineage.”

 

[Drenn]

Tag: Scoria Harik

It was only after the battle at Dac, followed by the journey to Lyana City, that Drenn finally began to feel like his former self once more; though the pangs of defeat still lingered, he began using them to fan the flames of his newly found determination. He pushed himself harder than ever before now, seeking to fill in the gaps with his skill set that had been exposed. His training was no longer limited to those of his natural talents, but now focused on all of his abilities, particularly of those that relied heavier on the Force, where he found himself lacking the most.

Amidst the many changes taking place, he also found himself also drifting further from his place at Teckla’s side, a role that had been short lived. Drenn decided to not allow it to bring any questions to mind; without hesitation, he simply embraced it, and adapted. No longer was he merely a shield guarding her; instead, he was slowly becoming a weapon in the Grandmaster's arsenal, to better serve both her and the Empire.

Omman was new territory for him. But then again, most planets within the Empire’s domain were foreign to Drenn. Briefed on his mission, just as any other, he was taken by a bit of surprise when he discovered who he would be working alongside, being the Inquisitor he crossed paths recently just outside of Garel City.

Within the Crusader shuttle during the voyage, Drenn found himself in a sense of calm, lingering in the depths of a meditative state. He lost track of time as he channeled his best efforts to understanding the true nature of this mission, and prepare himself for whatever lay ahead. It had a way of keeping himself grounded, for arrogance could cling to him like a shadow if he were not careful, being both a fickle ally and a threat, which required constant effort to tame.

Rather than donning the usual red armor that may be recognizable to some and draw unwanted attention, he chose a more casual appearance. A dark green tunic hugged his upper torso, paired with brown leggings, and leather boots of a darker hue. The lightsaber was still visible, however, being clipped to his belt.

Once the shuttle made a soft landing, he finally opened his eyes; pushing himself upwards from a kneeling position, he became aware of the present moment and could feel the weight of his responsibilities beginning to press down again. Inhaling a deep breath, he slowly descended down the ramp, his piercing green orbs fixing intently on the person that would be awaiting him. Drenn stopped only a couple paces before her, and didn’t bother to offer his hand. A subtle nod was given in acknowledgment to her greeting, and as his gaze shifted for but a split second to the doll the woman carried, he couldn’t help but find it to be a rather odd sight.

“I am here simply as Drenn. Nothing more, nothing less," he said, his voice steady. With a soft smile he would continue. “However, I must admit that my lineage is rather ..unremarkable.” The Crusader momentarily began to observe their surroundings. “The atmosphere here is already more enjoyable than from our first introduction. And while I’ve been brought up to speed on the recent events, I would appreciate your insights as well, to ensure I have a better understanding of everything that has unfolded.”

 

[Scoria Harik]

Objective: Root out a threat to the Empire
Location: Harik Family Estate, Omman
Outfit: Fancy Local Dress
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bag of “dolls”
Tag: Drenn

Scoria was puzzled by the attire of Drenn. That didn’t happen often to the noble witch Inquisitor. She had always connected the Crusaders to a blunt direct show of power. Drenn arriving without even the hint of armor was a relief in some respects, but also something that had Scoria unsure. And that she did not like. ”Don’t simplify yourself here Drenn. Omman is thought of by many as just a bunch of farmers. In the presence of the small nobility however it is quite a sophisticated place. If you’re going to properly hunt your target you’ll need to take a little more pride in who you are. The nobility respects the Empire. Your position will be admired and your association with me can only help things.”

The fact that Drenn did not come from a well to do family was not a terrible shock. Though Crusaders seemed to come in all sizes and social standing, just like Inquisitors, Drenn had given her the vibe of someone who suffered a bit to get where he was. That was a foreign feeling to the spoiled noble, and not one that she wished to delve much in. ”Last we met was in a realm of darkness with fighting going on around us. Omman is a place of peaceful labor and commerce. Though recent discoveries have proven that even the most unlikely places have unknown threats.”

Having Drenn ask for her take on the situation was also a bit of a surprise. She honestly expected the Crusaders to arrive and ask to be pointed in the direction of a target with death in their eyes. That was what Leru Raste deserved. But it appeared that Drenn’s orders were to be a little bit more inquisitive about things. ”The threat, Leru Raste, is a childhood…well most people say friends, but he was merely an associate due to his family’s equal footing with mine. Leru was too dense to be a friend or a rival. I could hardly believe it when I heard the rumors. But he did have other talents that seemed to be in access while growing up.”

Scoria shifted herself to Drenn’s side and with her doll in one hand she slid her other hand through his. ”We should talk more inside. This is not the proper place for a discussion. Are you hungry? I can have the servants bring you something? Thirsty? I doubt that it is widely known, but my family has imported emerald grapes from Lothal and have had some success in vinification. I’m told that Harik Vineyards is slowly making a name for itself. I coild get a glass if you’d like.”

 

[Drenn]

Tag: Scoria Harik

As Drenn tuned in to Scoria's words, a wave of realization came over him— a stark reminder that this mission was unlike any he had ever encountered. It would require more than merely acting as a shield against threats or relying on brute strength to conquer challenges. Instead, he found himself embracing a challenge that demanded a different approach altogether, one that called for patience, and more wisdom. Admittingly, he had gotten far in the Crusader hierarchy without using much of either. "I was born in a position lower than a farmer," he said. His voice was steady, but also carried humility. The weight of his origins was always present, with the memories of humble beginnings on Nar Shaddaa. “But I’m certain I will learn more in the ways of courtly politics from you.”

“Peace often carries many unseen threats,” he continued, “but even the brightest of kingdoms can hide shadows.”

Scoria’s words gave him a hint of understanding, but it was not quite the information he desired; still, it was a good beginning. The initial assessment he made of the woman so far was favorable, for she was easy to communicate with, and it brought forth a flicker of hope-- that their collaboration may flow smoothly. Luckily, in the grand scheme of his duties with the Crusaders, there were very few instances that left a foul taste in his mouth. “I admit, it doesn’t sound much different than many associations I have within the Empire, as they’re simply forged by circumstances, rather than any sense of camaraderie.”

His gaze flicked down to the doll once more, a strange companion of sorts that seemed out of place. He tried not to appear too obvious. Surely, there would be time later in this journey to uncover the truth behind the mysterious object.

The only armor he had, the stoic demeanor so often clung to, threatened to crumble as she moved effortlessly to his side. His piercing green orbs softened for a moment while following her movements. When she reached out and took his hand, there was a tinge of uncertainty that coursed through him, something that was completely foreign to his usual composure. His instincts told him to pull away, but instead, he allowed the warmth of her hand to envelop his.

At first, he wasn’t entirely sure how to even respond, as he was unfamiliar with such treatment. Luxury amidst the chaos of the vast galaxy wasn’t something he understood. Still, Drenn found himself swayed by the offer. He gave a simple nod, his thumb grazing over the back of her hand, which betrayed his confusion. “Perhaps a glass will bring more clarity to our discussion,” he said, allowing a soft smile to grace his hardened features.

 

[Scoria Harik]

Objective: Root out a threat to the Empire
Location: Harik Family Estate, Omman
Outfit: Fancy Local Dress
Equipment: Lightsaber, Bag of “dolls”
Tag: Drenn

Feeling the realization hit Drenn that he’d drifted into unfamiliar waters was quite amusing to Scoria. Sure there was a part of her that felt sorry for him, but she had always felt the Crusaders limited themselves. So narrow focused on making war. The fact that at least one of them was going to delve into the deep end of noble intrigue made Scoria smirk. The fact that Drenn was able to admit where he came from was admirable. ”You will only ever hear me say this when we are alone, but there are more important things than your status at the time of your birth. Of course I’ve a reputation as a bratty noble to keep so in mixed company don’t be surprised if I turn my nose up at your presence, or we can lie and make up a title for you… she giggled teasingly and then gave a hum. ”Yes. That’s what we’ll do. We’ll say you're a powerful man from Amarin. As long as you’re not saying you’re from Folende no one will give it a second thought. And I will do my best to teach you what I can to get to the bottom of this Raste issue though.”

Drenn’s response to calling Omman peaceful brought forth another giggle. ”Is that your Crusader training calling on you to always expect the worst and see a threat around every corner?” In truth Scoria didn’t find that to be the worst philosophy to have. As long as even in the face of perceived threats one could find time to unwind. ”Omman is far from the brightest kingdom in the Empire. It is an agriworld with a few families that were lucky enough to gain a good deal of control and call themselves nobles. It’s good being on the side I am…but the rest of the planet isn’t much to speak about.”

Drenn’s simple assessment of her relationship with Leru was quite on the ball. Scoria had grown up in the middle of intrigue and had found a comfort in it. The Crusaders were a simpler group. A part of Scoria envied them. But she wouldn’t give up nobility or the Inquisition at this point to make things easier. ”I hope that does not mean that you shy away from camaraderie. It can be irritating when it is forced upon you, but it is a helpful thing as well when it comes naturally.”

The look from Drenn to the doll was ignored by Scoria. Everyone thought she was weird for keeping dolls. They didn’t realize the power that lay within one of her dolls. Drenn probably had a better idea than most, but it was still an oddity that Scoria didn’t much care to acknowledge the attention it brought.

A smirk formed on Scoria’s lips as she noted the tension within the Crusader as she closed the distance between them. The tension grew when she placed her hand on his. At this point Scoria did her best to contain another giggle. She’d not made a man this nervous in quite some time. She didn’t wish for it to be as amusing as it was, and she hoped not to make Drenn feel as if she were making fun of him. It just reminded her of her adolescence. Whether out of a sense of chivalry or growing comfort, Drenn did not pull away. There was hope for him to act as a noble yet. ”Don’t fear. I’m not flirting or anything. It’s just the way a noblewoman should be escorted here. Especially in her family home,” she replied to his continuing confusion and the touch of his thumb to her hand. His presence wasn’t actually half bad. Certainly beat Leru Raste. Though they would have to suffer that one before too long.

At the acceptance of the wine Scoria gave a pleasant hum. She felt the need for a glass herself. Though because she knew that as soon as she passed along all her intel about Leru Raste they would be heading to the Raste estate. ”A bottle for me and my guest,” Scoria said with a nod to a servant as she led the way into the main house of the estate. ”A glass brings clarity sometimes. A bottle can go either way. Don’t feel peer pressure to partake in the whole bottle. I am not looking forward to visiting the subject of our investigation and loosening my lips will probably be helpful to get the full story for you…”

Soon inside the home, Scoria guided Drenn off to the right into a small room that looked like it could have been centuries old. The walls were natural materials with no computers or high tech gadgets. There was a small wooden table with matching chairs. Scoria motioned towards them and made her way to sit. Once they were settled the servant showed up with the wine, opened it and poured two glasses. ”Now. I’m afraid I won’t be able to tell you much of what Leru is capable of, but I can give you stories of what he was while growing up. And a slight idea of who he portrays himself to be now. Getting under that facade will be the next chapter of this book.”

 

[Drenn]

Tag: Scoria Harik

There was no outward display of reaction as she commented on his lowly birth. He knew all too well the masks they wore, the facade of superiority presented in the public, yet behind closed doors, they were generally no better than those that they despised. Since they both served the Empire, he hoped he could trust her, yet the Crusader couldn't help but also feel a wave of uncertainty at the mention of having a title bestowed upon him; the idea of carrying such weight sounded more challenging than any battle or skirmish he had faced. Power wielded through his lightsaber was one thing, but navigating the waters of politics was very much a foreign language to him, and one that he feared would only become a burden upon Scoria.

The giggles crept into Drenn's mind, clouding it with a certain haze; though there was a genuine hint of confidence in her laughter, it was a stark contrast to his more controlled demeanor. In fact, it was very different from many of those within the same ranks as him. "My Lady, I don't know the slightest thing about Amarin besides its location on a map. And educating me on how to fill such a role may require more time and resources than you can afford," he countered.

Her words on camaraderie arrived like a dagger to his mind. It even caused him to calculate and reflect upon the truth in them. He was all too aware of both the connections and relationships he had missed out on, his walls much like a fortress, protecting his peace. Even now, he was unsure whether the conflict that came with companionship was simply unnecessary, or just the cost for brotherhood.

Drenn could hardly believe that this noblewoman found his nervousness amusing. He glanced away for a moment, gathering his thoughts, trying to dismiss the hint of embarrassment creeping in. “Am I some sort of spectacle? This assignment is just slightly out of my scope of practice; I'm not used to this,” he started. It was certainly different from how he escorted Teckla on several occasions, merely observing from a distance that ensured her safety as tensions were growing like a weed in the Outer Rim.

In that moment, he simply let a small, gentle smile curl at the edges of his mouth, a modest attempt to make sense of the absurdity of everything going on. Perhaps, in the aftermath of this mission, he would finally break free from the shell that often bound him

His gaze flickered to the servant before he found himself trailing walking alongside Scoria. And as he followed, his eyes couldn't help but roam freely, taking in the new surroundings of this place, a stark contrast to the advanced technologies and innovations of the Empire. Here, it felt as though simplicity reigned, which was oddly refreshing, and almost foreign. and it felt oddly refreshing to him. Personally, he found himself drawn to it.

As the servant poured the deep red liquid into the glasses, he felt a touch of self-consciousness wash over him. “Thank you,” he said simply, as the servant placed a glass in front of him. His fingers barely brushed the surface of the glass. It was almost as if he was unsure of how to proceed with the drink. For Drenn, a life of complete discipline was his chosen path, rather than the debauchery that appeared to saturate the galaxy. But as he lifted the glass, his actions slow and displaying caution, he hoped that his natural aversion to alcohol was not too obvious.

“You mentioned stories… about Leru?” he questioned, unsure of how to navigate through this uncharted territory. “What was he like as a child?” Taking a sip of wine, he tried to mirror a sense of ease, but the taste instantly flooded his senses, forcing him to pause. He glanced between Scoria and the wine, his mind racing with questions as he tried to piece together the puzzle of Leru’s past. “And what do you mean by ‘getting under the facade’? What does he hide?”