Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private Stellar Exchanges


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Astra didn't take it poorly, though she didn't quite understand the joke either. At what point had she suggested being extraordinarily ambitious? She'd made no claim over being someone of great power or importance Beyond. They'd only trained one power. Only spoke of her gaining influence on one other planet. Lysander seemed to have something in mind, but she wasn't aware of what it could be. Even saving him from the creature hardly spoke of ambition.

Of course, Astra wasn't fully aware of everything Lysander had seen. It wasn't amnesia. It wasn't a second personality. Madness came in many forms and accepting the 'absurd' as obvious was one of them. Her throne. The court. Each moment her eyes had been red had merely been them moving about on Had Abaddon's surface so far as Astra was aware. And of course she'd addressed one of her Daughters; what kind of Sire would she be ignoring someone she cared for?

Where were they now? Well, obviously back in the Court. What court? Don't be absurd.

There was a smile, but also a lack of mirth, outrage, or true recognition of what he'd said. Perhaps Lysander would get she wasn't quite aware of the nature of the joke. Or not.

"Perhaps. Corporate interests are as good a target as any other." Astra considered the idea. "In any case, I would expect them to be a port first and a military fortress a far distant second. That's why we build fleets." All those fancy ships had a job to do. The space station's job was to provide an open area for commerce, not take on an invading fleet by its lonesome. Though Astra would invest in shield technology. Those Mandalorian had cut through the common-variety shield generator's field far too easily.

Endless opportunities suddenly turned about and Lysander sought to get Astra to volunteer something for herself instead. Astra's lips parted before she gave him a secretive smile. What could she say? He wanted something that could be built. Something physical. Within reason as well.

"A world," she began softly, "where I could... form a bridge." Her voice picked up speed and volume as she spoke until confidence and desire were evident, "A place where They could belong. To feel them once again. To explore all that is trapped just out of reach. A world, Lysander, like the Nether tear formed over Abregado-rae, but for more than repelling mere Mandalorians nuisances. Yes, something for myself, and for Them. I think there are others that would appreciate the opportunities it would afford. Opportunities not found any where else in the galaxy." A dangerous world full of lethal creatures and consequences for those unprepared and believing it still just one of many in the galaxy.

A soft chuckle followed. "Somewhere other than Brentaal." Lysander would not like what might befall the gateway to the Northwestern sectors if they shared the same realm.



 


Perhaps the safety net of mutual need had been given a little too much credit. History was littered with people gleefully setting fire to the very branch they were sitting on. Long-term thinking was hardly the galaxy's greatest talent. Most of his lessons under Sith colors were learned with mud caked to his boots rather than staring dramatically out a viewport. Overlooking a detail or two from orbit wasn't exactly a blow to the ego.

A shrug rolled through his shoulders. "You know, you've got a point there. Corporate holdings burn just the same as anything else. Maybe we're not as far apart as that came across. Just want to make sure anyone who gets an itch to light that match realizes they're about to piss off a whole lot more people than Sanguine Enterprises and the Covenant."

Meeting her smile this time came warmer, like an attempt to fill in whatever had felt absent from hers. Missing the mark twice in a row? Wouldn't even crack the top ten for awkward moments.

On reflection, his joke lost some of its edge. He wanted Brentaal; Astra wanted a world of her own. Apparently, their collaboration had developed a shared weakness for planetary scale projects. Difference being, at least there was no personal need to go tearing holes in reality to get there. If that was the right read on things, anyway.

Lysander's support began with a dry glance. "Yeah, actually, far away from Brentaal sounds perfect to me." Contemplation settled across his features after that. "Is the whole point of the planet just to hold the bridge, or would the bridge be more like.. one piece of something bigger? A sanctuary, maybe. Somewhere to actually study Them without every attempt blowing up into another Abregado-rae." Not enough time had been spent in her Court to really get much of a handle on Them.

Astra didn't seem like the type to dream this big without already having a specific world in mind. "Seriously though, Astra.. if that is what you want to create, I want to figure out what it would actually take to make it real."

For reasons that would completely fall apart under any real questioning, Lysander extended one finger toward her side and attempted an experimental poke. "A whole world, huh? Very humble."
 

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"I want," Astra lifted a hand as if to grasp at something. Her fingers curled in and she withdrew her hand only a moment after it'd been extended. A hike of the corner of her lips followed the withdrawal. A sigh escaped her lips as she turned to look off to the side and up at the sky above. "I want a world free of the constraints and shackles of the every day. A realm where people can be true to who and what they are. As limitless as it is endless." The golden rings fell behind her eyelids as Astra drew in a deep breath.

"Chandrila is ripe, Arkania ironic but frigid, Metellos..." Astra voiced aloud several choices while avoiding those too obvious for words. Coruscant was Mercy's though it would have been quite the morsel. If Lysander could see what might be and all the riches that could be plundered... he might well want it further away than Chandrila or Arkania.

Her eyes fell from the heavens back to Lysander. "It would spark an alchemical revolution any Sith Lord could only dream of. It would awaken the creativity and passion worthy of entire civilizations. Everything would be possible. Nothing would be out of our reach. There'd just need to be a place to see it done. A place with people that could come to understand breathtaking new sights and ideas that violate every preconception...."

Astra blinked and then gave a soft laugh. "I should stop. I could go on far too long. I'll just say there is more out there than we dare realize, Lysander. Isn't it our responsibility to try and bring it to fruition?"



 


Lysander's hand slipped back to his side. This time, listening was all he offered. Some of her words landed closer than he'd braced for.. freedom from shackles, the right to exist as one truly was, possibility without someone else deciding where the walls belonged. Familiar territory to be sure, even if he suspected he and Astra would draw those walls in very different places.

Chandrila was a bold pick. Arkania had a strange pull of its own. The last name was the one that slipped out. "Metellos will belong to another soon.”

He hoped that hadn't sounded like a brush off of her idea; that was the last thing he wanted.

"Imagine if you could make the unusual repeatable, Astra. That's when I think real change would begin. Most knowledge almost always becomes tradition. Someone discovers a method, then another eventually refines it.. and then a hundred years or so later, people are debating the correct way to do something that nobody remembers was ever thought impossible in the first place." The enthusiasm in his voice should’ve been hard to miss. "But give enough capable people a space to test ideas, and before long you could have entire schools of thought before anyone realizes what's happening."

Of course, alchemy already held his interest. Knowledge was another matter. Whatever he'd picked up in recent years still left him aware enough to recognize how enormous the distance probably was between his understanding and Astra's. And no false humility there either.

For a moment, Lysander wore the look of someone who'd stumbled upon a small mystery. “No, go on, if you'd like. It was my question to begin with." One shoulder lifted in a half shrug. "And if you ever settle on this new place to call home.." The sentence stalled long enough for him to glance aside. He could easily think of a dozen ways to finish it and every one of them sounded painfully formal. "I don't know. You would tell me, wouldn't you?"
 
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"Really?" A clarity returned to Astra's burnt, golden eyes as she looked at Lysander with the news Metellos would be claimed. "That's too bad." Though, strictly speaking, ownership wouldn't matter. Abiding by it would be unfortunate news, however. All those people would have made excellent... inhabitants.

Arms crossed, Astra's eyelids fell half-way as she seemed to consider something. Her eyes snapped open when Lysander asked if she'd tell him. "You're the only one that would appreciate the news. Everyone else would learn of it in time, but as rumor and tall tale." She uncrossed her arms and reached forth toward one of his hands to take it. "Somewhere that isn't at risk of Jedi pests. Somewhere Mandalorians won't stumble upon it -- they wouldn't understand the humor. Somewhere... Selvaris. Do you know much of it?"

"The influence of the Yuuzhan Vng remains. A dangerous people, but one I think that could appreciate what I have in mind. Their inhuman sense of aesthetics and bio-technology would serve them well. It would serve us well; what couldn't we accomplish if we fully realized their potential? And there's the leftovers of the Brotherhood of the Maw -- whatever the 'New' Jedi didn't ignorantly purge."
It was a world already steeped in darkness and alien design.

"You could count on it becoming a boon for the Covenant," she added in case Lysander was doubtful of the so-called "backwater" planet.



 


Another deep breath drew into Lysander's chest, then left through his nose. "Yes. Really." Lysander was meant to sit down with its Neimoidian Governor soon enough, which would probably tell him whether the whole affair ended across a table or somewhere.. less civilized. The family connection to Lodd hadn't escaped him, either. Strange little detail, that; enough to introduce doubts. Enough to also make revenge sound all the sweeter, too.

All he'd really wanted was to be kept in the loop. Learning about things thirdhand was rarely pleasant. His lips parted before closing again. Probably for the best. The morning had already been enough of a rollercoaster without him tossing something overly sincere out there just because she caught him off guard.

“I know the name, and I know a fair bit of the history that goes with it. But if you're telling me you need a shortage of Jedi and Mandalorians, well, you're already shopping in a pretty niche corner of the galaxy." For the near future, at least, Lysander didn't expect either group to become an immediate concern. That wouldn't last forever. Sooner or later, someone with a grudge and a fleet would arrive.

“You wouldn’t have to break its understanding of what life and technology are supposed to be. Someone already did that generations ago. Grim way to put it, but it leaves you with a foundation other worlds simply wouldn’t have.” His most honest opinion on the Brotherhood of the Maw would benefit no one right now.

Twin emeralds dropped to her hand before climbing back to those strange golden eyes. “Selvaris may become a boon in time, but I suspect the greater one would be you.” Because some part of him believed there was more range in her than just being Sanguine’s chairwoman.

His own hand finally moved out toward hers but stopped short. The curve that graced his lips suggested she could do the rest if she wanted.

A remark from the cyborg at Lysander's first meeting after returning to the Covenant echoed in his mind.

"We're surrounded by enemies, Astra. It's just us, and them." He'd always been tribal at heart; few were ever invited within that small circle.
 
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"No, such understandings must be broken from time to time, Lysander. It is how they are broken and to what end that matters." Not that the galaxy would probably understand the truth Astra could reveal to them. No matter. They needn't visit her realm and have their precious preconceptions challenged. Those of sterner material would find their way to them and carry wisdom out to the stars in due time.

Astra's hand lifted to close the gap and gently take Lysander's fingers in her own. She lifted his hand up, but stopped chest-high as their eyes met. "All the better. Enemies are opportunities to test new ideas. A resource rich environment no one will begrudge us exploiting. Let us, you and I, assert our domains and still order in this chaos. Not the order of conformity and 'proper' living, but of truth and understanding." Though the sentiments might not manifest in the same way.

Lysander's hand was lifted further still and then turned ninety-degrees. "I told you I would not lie, Lysander." And she had not stolen his life despite many opportunities to do so even just recently; even that very moment it would not be so difficult to exsanguinate the man before her. "We have done well together. Let us go further. Let us achieve our vision of prosperous worlds."



 


The disagreement wasn't really with the first half of what she said; he'd spent too much of his own life kicking at walls for that. "If the truth you're offering is worth anything.. then people should be able to reach it because you've given them something better to stand on, not because you've torn everything else out from under them. Change the rules and prove them wrong if you can.. but the manner does matter because people aren't just the ground you build the next idea on."

“Fear buys only obedience until someone finally decides dying is preferable. Dependency would last far longer, no? Give them enough reason to need what we build, and they’ll police those borders for us.”
He suspected much of this she knew already, but giving it voice simply felt better than letting it wander about the mind. He'd seen enough Sith become consumed by the very chaos they wielded. So far, Lysander had done well enough skimming that line himself. Whether that was luck, or borrowed time was another question.

“I know.” As the words left him, his fingers gathered hers more closely. Nothing else seemed necessary there; if he still intended to hold any suspicions over Astra’s head, they had no business discussing worlds together, right? Hard to go forward if constantly circling.

Lysander suspected what he would offer next might sound unusual. Legacy interested him, but not for vanity's sake. Besides, there was no illusion about how lives much like his own usually ended. “Build it well enough, and one day.. when they finally comes for us, defending it won’t feel like just defending another border. It’ll feel like defending home.”
 

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Astra smiled across at Lysander. "Why take everything from them? Such a waste of resources. Even a merchant like myself needs to pace herself or she'll destroy the market." No, destroying the galaxy wasn't her intention. Then again, if They for whatever reason left the world she chose... well, the road to 'hell' was paved with good intentions. Astra was certain she was destined for such a place. What need did a monster have for idly sitting around beneath an overbearing sun in 'paradise'?

In any case, Astra wasn't a proponent of the Brotherhood's ideology.

Lysander understood dependency was better. Well, fear had its place, but you had to dole it out. "Like herbs and spices, too much fear ruins a dish." Though adrenaline certainly made a particular bite sweet. Well, it was too early for her to discuss the culinary tastes of something less... Human. Terrorizing an entire people though? That caused more trouble than it was worth. People clung to their credits when uncertainty and doubt ruled their hearts and minds.

"Home?"
Astra echoed with a slight raise of the brow. "Well, no one complains about protecting what they cherish most. If anything, you resolve yourself to committing everything to the fight. So they know never to try again." In that generation, anyway. "Keep me apprised what you consider 'well enough,' Lysander, and I'll make your every dream a reality."



 


At first, he answered with a laugh barely above a murmur at the sudden, bizarre comparison. “Then I suppose the trouble with most Sith is that nobody ever taught them to cook.” A little fear was good, enough to remind others of consequences. But those who lived terrified also spent their lives searching for an exit. Those who became comfortable, though, perhaps even prosperous in one way or another, tended to resent anyone who threatened to change things.

The hand that Astra held relaxed; had there been any tension, it bled out as his chin dipped. “You can stop flattering me now whenever you'd like. First anything in the galaxy, now every dream. You've become entirely too generous.” Expectations were rather dangerous things. Let them climb high enough and disappointment only had farther to fall. Not that he wasn’t guilty of prodding those edges often enough.

What he'd said probably wouldn't register with most Sith. Truthfully, it probably wouldn't register with most within the Covenant, or even the Order. Strange, then, that the ones who did seem to understand were often the ones sitting higher in the hierarchy. Their reasoning was probably very different from his own, of course. Sometimes, pragmatism could make neighbors out of people who otherwise shared so little.

"I'd know it when people stop asking who owns the world and start worrying about what they’d lose if it changed hands. When someone’s fleets arrive at last, and leaving feels less natural than staying.. that could be close. Maybe like how some shopkeeper who couldn't care less about Covenant politics starts boarding up his windows because some bastards in orbit decided his street belongs to them now." Lysander's gaze seemed content holding hers. "There was a time I always wondered what lay beyond the next departure. Not anymore.”
 

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"Have I?" Astra drew in closer and brought their hands up, forearm along forearm trapped between their chests. "I want you to know I am committed, Lysander. I am a woman that can go the distance -- no matter how far or how hard. You speak of our enemies? I'll tear them apart with my own hands and teeth, if necessary. Those that cannot adapt to a new world will be brushed aside to make way for those that realize its worth. No moralizing. No pleading to deaf gods in the dark for mercy or forgiveness. I am there, Lysander. All I ask in return is that you stand with me when the time comes." It wasn't so much to ask that the instigator be just as committed to the cause as she was prepared to be, right?

"This galaxy is full of people like me that say everything you want to hear, but don't show up when it matters. My words may sound sweet and be taken as nothing more than a saccharine dish for the ears, but you'll find out in time whether I'm one of them, or someone you've been searching for. I hope you've already decided on that, but I don't mind proving it time and time again." So long as the partnership was beneficial what did it matter if he needed convincing? If he betrayed her that was a different story, but she'd operate on the belief he had no such intentions.

A soft hum followed his words. "Ownership of the plebs. Investment. A desire to do more than wait to be slaughtered. Make worlds where such people arise is it?" Astra studied Lysander for a moment with a smile on her lips. "Such a thing can take several generations, but if that is one of your requirements in this galactic Statement of Work... We'll need to hire experts on local cultures to help speed that effort along."



 


He listened longer than usual, a frown settling across his brow. Then his free hand lifted, palm opening in a helpless gesture, halfway between surrender and acknowledgement.

Since the beginning, she'd kept discovering entirely new ways of surprising him. The meaning behind her words were often perfectly clear. That was.. almost the problem. Because no one had ever really spoken to him in that manner before. Offering such sentiments came easily enough when he meant them; receiving them was another matter entirely.

Lysander's gaze strayed sideways, jaw shifting, while searching for an easier answer. There would be no deflecting this with a joke.

Beneath hers, his arm turned slowly, bringing the vulnerable skin of his inner wrist to rest fully against her own. "It's only that I've watched people bleed for causes that weren't worth the stain. So.. I learned to ask what the blood buys before I offer mine. You're not wrong.. hesitation is a luxury. But there's a difference between hesitating and knowing exactly what you'll do when the price stops being theoretical. I already know what I'll do for the Covenant. I know what I'll do for those I've chosen to stand beside."

There was nothing difficult about remaining where Astra had drawn him; touch was easier than finding the next sentence. So much for the poet with perfect words. "I.. the thing is, I don't think you're asking me to convince you of anything, are you? Proof arrives whether you watch for it or not, Astra. If I turned out to be less than I claim, you'll see it.. and lose nothing but time." No, that wasn't the right way to say it.

He rolled the thought around once more, then met her eyes. "Actually, no. If you betrayed me, I would kill you. So I suppose we would both lose something, which is hardly a comfort.. but at least it is an honest one."

The smile took its time returning. "I'm not going to be around for generations, Astra. Whatever I witness of this will only be the beginning.. enough to learn whether we were right. The first signs that something is growing." Cheating the timetable sounded lovely in theory, but he suspected she didn't understand the meaning behind what he'd meant only moments ago. Not every tree needed to be at full height to know it was planted well. "I don't need to see the ending to know whether the beginning was worth it, do you understand? That's enough for me."
 
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Astra had to hold herself back from hissing sweetly in Lysander's ear insisting his blood would buy everything. Far more than he might believe it worth. She was someone that understood the meaning literally and metaphorically, however. It wouldn't be spilled on the ground and wasted. Not so long as he held her attention.

Her lips curled upward as Lysander questioned whether she was trying to convince him of something. She wasn't. And she was. People were strange creatures capable of irrational behavior without warning. Sometimes, a woman had to convince even an ally they were still friends -- even when everything was going swimmingly. This early on and given the earlier spat, she wanted him to know what kind of monster she was. Hopefully, he'd understand her quality.

While it then took Lysander a little time to smile again, Astra positively grinned when he threatened her. Her wrist turn just slightly and her grasp tightened just perceptively as Astra stared into his eyes. "We are speaking the same language." As much as she liked him, if Lysander betrayed her she would enjoy tearing his throat out with her own teeth. It was only natural.

Astra's free hand rose and slowly brushed the top of Lysander's shoulder as if there were a mote of dust on it. "Whatever the customer wants, Lysander." Golden rings lifted from the mimed action back to his own, green gaze. "But I wouldn't be a merchant worth knowing if I didn't keep you up to date on all the choiest acquisitions and opportunities as our machinations unfold." Just as she'd felt during their drunken match, Astra wouldn't force immortality upon him, but that didn't mean she wouldn't dangle it before him time to time. No overtly, of course. It wasn't as fun if you told someone straight out all the benefits and costs. Alluding to them? Leading them to ask and yearn for it? Well, a blood-thirsty creature got their amusements where they could.

"But, if you did expire before the culmination of all your hard work," Astra added, "I hope you will leave your partner a detailed description of the future you desire. There is nothing more universal than miscommunication. I'd hate for your dream not to become reality because those that follow didn't comprehend what you truly wanted."



 


Few would look so openly pleased after a death threat, even here. And yet the frankness of it oddly reassured him. He'd been scrambling for footing, and she had handed him solid ground. Naturally he took it. At least there was no need for translation.

Astra's other hand caught his attention, even if he would almost dismiss it as imagination; he suspected there was nothing there to begin with. By the time his gaze found hers again, another inch or so between them disappeared. Lysander left the silence untouched as she spoke, since there seemed little urgency in filling it. He found himself studying those burning rings the way one might pore over a riddle whose answer had already begun to make sense in the quieter parts of his mind. Maybe some naive part of him was waiting to see if she'd breathe any more truths aloud.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, one corner of his mouth lifted. "I'm beginning to think your definition of customer service is considerably more aggressive than everyone else's. Most merchants send a catalogue. You apparently intend to rearrange entire worlds until something catches my eye."

A softer breath slipped through his nose, carrying the trace of a laugh. "You do realize there's a flaw in this arrangement, don't you, Astra? Every time you tell me I can have whatever I want, you only make me wonder what happens when I finally ask for something difficult."

There was nothing wrong with taking people at their word; promises became infinitely more interesting when someone expected you to keep them. Perhaps she ought to have known better than to place such enormous offers in front of someone inclined to test their edges. "And here I thought I was the challenging client. You certainly have a way of redrawing the map every time I think I understand the territory."

For all the conversations he'd navigated, the subject of his own absence seldom arose. There was something else beneath those words of hers, though, that turned over another thought, one attached to a suspicion that'd been gathering around the chairwoman for some time now.

"The trouble is, I'm not sure I can give you that description yet. There are… parts of that future I'm still trying to understand. Variables I haven't accounted for. Possibilities that only appeared recently. I suspect understanding them may require extended consultation with my partner. I imagine sorting through all of that will take time."
 

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Difficult? Difficult? Astra could feel the urge to... she didn't know what. An urge to make difficult happen. To demand he issue some outrageous request that she would fulfill and watch as everyone gawked and fell before her in awe. All he had to do was say the words and it would be done. Even a joke. A jest. An off-hand remark he didn't seriously intend for her to satisfy. It didn't matter if horror and revulsion would be the outcome of managing the impossible; all a part of her would want was seeing it done and laying claim as the one that made the impossible reality.

A dangerous part of her. One she sought to hide behind that mask Lysander suggested she put aside for him, and that Astra had warned not to take too lightly. Madness was a dangerous, terrifying, and uncontrollable thing once it slipped its leash.

Perhaps Astra did know better. Perhaps she knew exactly what she was doing even if she wasn't consciously aware of goading Lysander to say the words.

"Of course," Astra replied casually as if the Deep Urge hadn't stirred at all. "Why rush? But also... why wait? Unlike your standard contract, ours can be an evolving understanding. We'll pencil in the desired outcome. We'll accept the risks that come with inherent scope creep. I won't lock you in to your first inclination, but," and there had to be a but, "I do ask that you have a direction in mind. There's a chasm between saving the galaxy and annihilating it, Lysander -- just as an example. I'm fine with uncertainty at the start and adapting as we go, but radically changing direction... well that's asking too much of any merchant. Unless you have endless amounts of credits and infinite time, of course."



 


Amusement worked its way back into his expression. "Hey now, that sounds suspiciously impatient, Astra. I was under the impression I had an abundance of time. Forgive me if I think asking for progress reports feels.. well, sounds a little inconsistent with Sanguine's policy."

Which was almost unfortunate. He typically preferred identifying problems before he started enjoying them. "I can narrow the field somewhat. I have no aspirations toward galactic salvation." The look he wore suggested he was entirely too pleased with himself. "Nor do I feel a pressing need to burn the whole thing down. We can search for options between philanthropy and annihilation."

"Hm. Beyond that... there are still a few unresolved questions. Opportunities that appeared without authorization and disrupted my projections. A few months ago, I would've dismissed them outright."


More inconveniently, some part of him preferred that a few questions remain unanswered. "So yes, I know where I'm going. One issue is that every time I think I've planned the route, you uncover another road worth considering." It didn't help that Astra made ambiguity harder to resent. Those detours weren't necessarily inconveniences.

"We should visit Selvaris at some point. I'd like to see how much of the legend survived the centuries before you decide what ought to become of it." Emerald brightened with the sort of absurdity that was neither entirely serious nor entirely a joke. "Imagine a throne made of beskar, Astra." For all that enthusiasm about Selvaris, he also saw no reason to hurry forward. That was also a recurring issue lately. She always found a way to make space between points entertaining.
 

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"Adaptation is a requirement for survival, Lysander," Astra said softly as they stood facing one another. "New opportunities arise daily." Not all of them were worth pursuing, of course. Still, one should always be prepared to alter course when a better route toward one's goals appeared. Yes, consistency in business operations was preferred, but sometimes you discovered a better way to reach the same conclusion; and in those cases, it only made sense to pursue them.

A ow hum followed. "A visit to Selvaris? Delightful. We'll head for the jungles where the Legacy of the Vong remains." They'd avoid the bothersome Jedi Temple the New Jedi had set up. Hopefully the planet had done her the service of consuming such a place. Jedi were the most closed-minded creatures Astra had the misfortune of encountering.

"Oh? You wouldn't want to bribe the Mandalorians with so much beskar? Not afraid they might start a war if they found someone like me ruling upon their precious metal?" Astra wasn't, of course. Let their ships burn. Let their people succumb. She'd gladly meet them in battle if they thought to take what was hers.

Though, Astra didn't see a need for a throne of beskar, of course. It was an amusing thought. A game.

If Lysander had unknowingly thought to pose a 'difficult' challenge to her it would need to be something grand. Constructing a throne of beskar would be technically challenging, but by and large the majority of the galaxy wouldn't notice. It'd be a footnote in a local paper at most. No, whatever Lysander had in mind to tempt Astra would need to be far greater in scope and impact.



 


Standing in the middle of a field, facing Astra, had slowly become one of the stranger comforts in Had Abaddon's strange world. Lysander considered staying exactly where he was, rooted in the grass.

"Adaptation, sure. But people love that word when they want credit for changing their minds. There has to be something underneath it, doesn't there? Otherwise you're not adapting. You're just drifting from one interesting possibility to the next and calling the detour part of the plan." The smile deepened. "Which is a perfectly respectable hobby, to be clear."

Only moments ago he had been fumbling through nonsense, grasping for something sincere and missing it by a few kilometers. Worth picking apart later with some reflection, when his pulse wasn't tangled up in her gaze.

"That does make me wonder where you draw the line. You clearly welcome new possibilities, Astra. So what part of your direction isn't up for negotiation?"

Selvaris did sound fascinating, more so than most worlds he'd heard of. Scars from another age refusing to fade, and Lysander found himself wanting to trace every one of them himself.

"Whenever the mood strikes you. I suspect the place deserves a closer look before you start making grand plans for it." Then he laughed under his breath. Every new piece of evidence only proved he was right to say Astra was stuck with him.

"Afraid? Never. Though I'm curious what sitting on their sacred metal would accomplish, aside from provoking them." The truth was, he knew very little about their warrior culture. He considered the image again. Well, sitting on a thing sent a very different message than simply standing near it. "If someone declares war because you sat on the wrong piece of metal, or furniture, I'm not really convinced diplomacy was ever going to be an option."
 

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Astra gazed into Lysander's eyes silently for a moment following his question.

"I will never be persuaded that I am so monstrous I should allow fools to slaughter me, or be convinced to let the end come." There were stories. Jedi. Sith. Other creatures. Times when something powerful was at the cusp of greatness only to fall because of a few words of doubt or persuasion. Absurd. She was no Acolyte still in the cradle unsure how the galaxy worked or what she would become. Business ventures could fail. The Sith could fall. But Astra knew what she was, and unapologetic was but the start. Let them decry her true nature if they discovered it; their loathing and hatred would matter not.

A slight twitch at the corners of her mouth followed Lysander's remark of Selvaris. "I welcome it, Lysander." He wanted to conduct a survey. Why not? She hoped he wouldn't object too strenuously; otherwise she might seriously consider Chandrila. It needed to be somewhere full of sentient life. Somewhere that wasn't a ball of ice or a ruin of desert. Was that so much to ask?

"What it would accomplish? A sore butt." Astra chuckled at the light joke. Nothing less comfortable than an unpadded, metal throne. Well... one where you were to sit on spikes, perhaps.

Astra's hand patted the side of Lysander's shoulder gently as he contemplated why someone would go to war over metal. "Pride is a curious bedfellow. People have done far stranger for lesser cause. And Mandalorians are not the galaxy's greatest socialites." Short of a rancor they might very well be the worst. Oh, they would get along just fine in small doses, but they wouldn't engage in The Game. It was beneath them. Well, what could you expect from a warrior culture? They held to the fact they might die tomorrow so they had 'better' things to do. A Sangnir, on the other hand, had only masquerades to keep things passably dynamic over time.

"Are you concerned about which world might end up the object of my interest, Lysander? You should let me know now if there are worlds the Covenant would not tolerate a humble merchant exerting her control over it. Abregado-rae and Humbarine were both claimed by another even as my people help them rebuild. I wouldn't want to end up in a conflict with someone else because they had 'designs.'" Which was why news of another having interest in Metellos had been unfortunate. The Covenant had enough strife as it was. They didn't want a blood feud. Well, Mercy likely wouldn't care either way, but Astra would avoid it if she could out of... consideration for larger plans afoot.



 


He found no argument to seize upon. “That makes sense to me. Someone can despise what you are without getting to decide you shouldn’t exist at all.” His expression tightened. “And once they’ve made that decision, I’m not sure why they’d expect you to make it easy for them. I’d fight it too.” The sentiment struck close to home; more than one correspondent spent some part of the year putting him on trial from the safety of a letter.

The hint of another smile answered hers. Little thought had been spared to Selvaris, at least not enough to form any serious expectations. Even so, the prospect was becoming increasingly appealing. From his perspective, Astra had maintained a perfect record against dull moments.

Whatever dignified response Lysander might've had next was beaten out by a sudden laugh. A sore butt. Of all the answers he'd expected, that was not one of them. “A compelling argument against the throne, Astra.” His nose wrinkled as he gave the matter more consideration. “Hm. Long-term lumbar consequences weren't something I'd accounted for.” Just in case anyone ever doubted that training occupied far too much of his brain.

“Pride.. that I believe. People will sit in misery for years before admitting something bruised their ego. I've never been particularly charitable toward Mandalorians, but most of that comes from old history.” A story there, one he didn’t mind telling.

“Concerned? Not exactly. I just want to position myself to support your next move. I gain nothing by hiding my intentions from you.”

Attention momentarily slipped from those golden rings, sinking somewhere between them as brows drew together like storm clouds. "Fuck Humbarine." Few worlds had ever soured his mood so completely, and fewer still earned such a curse from those lips. Ambitions there, and everything that followed in its wake had sent him into months of questioning his role within the Covenant.

Eventually, the moment of reflection ran its course. “I failed you back then. I haven't forgotten. You put Sanguine behind rebuilding the Undercity while I was trying to prove there was more value in building something durable over just taking another world. I thought I could make that vision hold with the people above me and see it through.”
 

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