Private Tending the Embers

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade's office was more of a mess than it usually was. Most often, she was simply content with letting things pile around. The sight was entirely chaotic, but she still knew where each and every item was. Hundreds of paper scrolls, numerous datapads, random weapon prototypes of weapons that were meant to cause mass destruction, and bags of cheese cubes decorated the otherwise incredibly pink room.

But right now, she wasn't working.

Right now, she had her gaming equipment on, her gaming chair folding to fit under the table while she got the VR goggles on and all things wrapped around chosen points where her muscles worked. A huge grin was spread on her face as she launched forward and punched like her life depended on it, sending her virtual opponent flying.

She loved those games; from various MMO's which she participated in between missions, to families she ran on HoloSims 17, and the occasional pilot simulator, it was almost any gamer's dream. Combined with the rest of the office that was full of things mentioned previously, the entire place was perfectly fit for someone like her, and gave a very small view for others to see what the inside of the Blood Hound's mind just might look like.

But only a small one. In truth, it was far more chaotic behind the glowing green eyes of the Sithling.

It seemed like seconds later her alarm went off, notifying her that she was minutes away from a meeting with Avernus .

After the actions of the Agents of Chaos on Ryloth and Siskeen, it seemed the comms would not stop buzzing. People wanted to meet the various faces of the Agents of Chaos, and despite the heavy damages sustained in the form of millions of refugees dead, still being collected from the space around the Scintilla, many more people wanted to work with them too.

But they would not trust just anyone. The betrayal of Derek Dib still stung, and they would be much more careful next time.

Scherezade switched the game off and grabbed a towel, drying her face off before scurrying off to get showered and dressed appropriately on time. One of the secretaries that worked in the Tower would know to let Avernus in when he arrived.

Scherezade sighed and sank into her office chair, opening a fresh bag of cheese cubes, wondering if Avernus might be hungry enough to be willing to go to the restaurant at the top of the Tower.

Avernus​

 

[Avernus]

[Giving Bad People Good Ideas]​

Avernus couldn't help but gawk at the less-than-subtle amount of pink included in the interior design. Sure, his flagship was a stark shade of crimson, but as a whole, it was arguably much less in-your-face. It was at the very least clear that the deWinter knew what she liked, and it was hard not to respect that. Many a fabulous ensemble would have never graced the eyes of those in Avernus' presence were he at all concerned what anyone else thought. This included the objectively ridiculous drip that he'd assembled for this meeting.

Being fashionably late was a habit, but he was running a bit more behind schedule than he had intended to. It wasn't exactly any fault of his own or actually, perhaps it was? He'd not thought to alert anyone to the drastic change in appearance that he'd undertaken recently.

"I'm sorry, she's supposed to be expecting Darth Avernus."

"I am Darth Avernus."

"You don't look like Darth Avernus to me."

"Oh really? What does Darth Avernus look like, then?"

"Ya' know, he's like, red and shit."

Convincing the secretary that he was, in fact, Darth Avernus had taken some time. He'd avoided getting into the subject of how Sith could, through certain means, could transfer the consciousness beyond their own brains. He feared the actual explanation would be lost on her, though. Had circumstances been different, he'd have just killed her for being in the way, you know, the usual Sith business. Luckily for the secretary, he'd rather avoid making a mess of the deWinter's tower. Killing an employee was a bad look for a business meeting.

He found his way into Scherezade's office with little other social turbulence. His shades of blonde danced in the cold, fluorescent light that illuminated the space. Quick maneuvering of his azure eye's observed the mess of papers and clutter that adorned the workspaces. His upper lip twitched slightly, resisting the involuntary response of curling it upwards. Shifting his gaze back to the deWinter he continued his approach, stopping only a few feet from the desk, standing behind the chair set up before it.

"Scherezade, I'm surprised you agreed to this meeting. I haven't seen you since Christophsis, after all. I was worried that Gat Tambor might have scared you off with his persistence," his voice was night unrecognizable. The flowery diction and ostentatious tone still remained, but the sounds the emanated from his vocal folds were much deeper and far less feminine than they had been previously. "Oh, right," he stopped himself, a small chuckle breaking up his explanation. "Forgive the jarring change in presentation, necessity dictated that I find more, uh, suitable lodging," he tapped his index finger on his temple a few times. "If you catch my drift."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Avernus​

"It takes more than what Gat Tambor showed me that night to scare me off," Scherezade grinned, reminded of the short meeting on Christophsis on what felt like several lifetimes ago. "Though I think if I hit back on him in all earnest he'd run away so fast there'd be oil drippings left behind."

But, even though she knew she was meant to meet Darth Avernus, and she knew what he looked like, the man standing before her wasn't the Ancient Sith hybrid, but rather a dashing looking young man with blonde tresses. She blinked, inhaling deeply, not using her nose to smell him, but rather, the Force. Scherezade deWinter was a blood hound, which gave her certain perks (and certain drawbacks), among them being the ability to sense and identify people by their blood. Unless she was severed from the Force, her readings were pretty accurate; only once had she gotten it wrong, and it was really a non-issue since it hadn't been her, but her sister in her body. Long story.

"Blonde suits you," she chuckled, and motioned for him to take a seat. "You know last time I was on Christophsis, things were different. It was, sort of, a game of hide and seek. If I try to make my way into the system now they're probably going to be shooting on sight if they realize I'm there, and for a change it won't have anything to do with all that Confederacy First bullchit."

Sighing, she waved her hand, and stacks of papers went flying to the side, making way just as her secretary entered with a tray of drinks, finger sandwiches, and cheese cubes. Scherezade nodded, letting Avernus know that he was free to take whatever he wanted from that tray.

Leaning back in her chair, the SIthling let her hands rest against her stomach for a moment.

"And since we both know the Confederacy would love few things better than my head on a stick, I kinda have to ask…" her voice remained light, almost bouncy. If there was a threat to her life that she knew of, there was absolutely nothing to indicate it from her body language. "Why is a Confederate Viceroy visiting me of all people? We're still not done colecting all the bodies from the vacuum of space if you want to go and see the Confederacy's handiwork."

Oh yes. She knew who he was. And considering the betrayal of Derek Dib not even a week ago, having a Confederate wanting to meet with her did raise a few eyebrows.

 

[Avernus]

[Three Bedrooms In a Good Neighborhood]
​

"Oh, come now," he took a seat leisurely. "Surely you don't take me for some loyal Confederate Official." 'Loyal' and 'Avernus' were practically antonyms, after all. Fidelity didn't exactly lend itself tor pragmatism, especially when the Confederacy was involved. "Or, should I say former Confederate Offical. My taking over for Gat Tambor was little more than a ploy to take advantage of the Confederacy's horrible foreign policy. The illegal market for foreign 'contraband' was incredibly lucrative while it lasted." A small wave of disinterest was given to the servant secretary when she gestured the tray his way. A relaxed lean back preceded the half-crossing of his legs, and the resting of his chin on his thumb, fist wrapped over cheek.

"My endeavors in planetary governance now lie elsewhere. Phaeda has proven far more fruitful in a much shorter time than Christophsis. Likely given that the New-Imperials don't tuck their tails at the first sight of foreign interaction," Avernus grinned, it wasn't really a joke, but he thought that was funny. The irony of 'independence' being locked behind closed borders and isolationism was amusing enough already. Adding the image of a scared puppy to it with the Confederacy crest stamped on its forehead when trying to invoke a mental idea of 'Confedarcy First' really added to the humor. Direct jabs had all but lost their touch, considering everyone and their mother had been dogpiling them with criticism.

"That- is neither here nor there, however. As for why I'm here, it's an 'enemy of my enemy' situation. Perhaps it sounds vindictive of me to admit a desire to see the Confederacy burn. Beyond the wish to rectify slights against my person, the desire stems from a very practical rationale." A pause took the place of the expected explanation. The Sky Blue eyes of his new vessel stared across deWinter down for a brief, silent moment. The influence of the dark side had yet to corrupt the yet untainted irises of this crisp, fleshy repository. His hand came away from his face, resting unhurriedly on the arm of the chair. "And considering your handiwork, with Ryloth and Siskeen having gone dark on Confederate territory, I figure you know how to make that happen. I also figure, the endeavor is probably unsustainable without a, how do you say, benefactor?"

Scherezade deWinter ​

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Avernus​

Whether or not Scherezade took him for a loyal Confederate was probably less relevant than Avernus might have thought. If he was, she didn't care. It was hard to scare the Sith Warrior from a fight, and while she did die or almost die (accounts vary) once, it really hadn't been enough to increase any sense of self preservation she might have had once upon a time. Still though, she had not taken Derek Dib for someone who would turn out to be a turncloak who trick them into coming and then demanding a peaceful arrest while doing all that other chit he'd pulled. That mistake was on her, and it had ended up costing the lives of millions, some of which were still floating not in space not too far away. Apparently collecting millions of bodies took time, and most people had taken it much harder than Scherezade had.

And now she was meeting this man, and for all she knew, she could've been making the same mistake again.

Certainly, he was speaking of making more creds elsewhere. Credits were always good incentive - but she wasn't quite certain that the New Imperial Order had more credits to offer than the Confederacy did. Then again, she could've been wrong about that too. Scherezade had people who did the accounting for her, since her own grasp of finances was average at best.

But she knew what benefactor meant, and she knew why he was here.

"You're willing to sponsor our next battle against the Confederacy?" she asked, wanting to be on the safe side. For slights against the man, sure, that made sense. But usually people didn't pay to have entire planets go dark just because someone insulted their mother. "Let's assume I totally believe you," she grinned, "What's in it for you? Why would you be willing to spend large amounts of credits to have a planet go dark, when you're already affiliated with another interplanetary government already? Why not just invade with the New Imperial Order and take it for yourself? By the way, were you voted for, on Christophsis?"

 

[Avernus]

[Peace Sells]
​

Avernus shrugged lazily, a small smirk crawling across his face. "What's in it for me is less important than what's in it for the Galaxy," he remarked. A grandiose statement for sure, but Avernus wasn't trying to take the moral high ground with such a statement. In truth, Avernus had little care for the denizens of the Confederate worlds, or their struggles. The positive implications that the disappearance of an economic isolationist state that controlled nearly a third of the galaxy held was undeniable. "Do you know why, truly, I've grown to abhor slavery, Scherezade?" The subject change was rather out of place, and it was no secret that Avernus had held small armies worth of slaves in the past. The laws written for his governance of Phaeda should have well enough been proof of his stance-flip on the matter. Still, it would take a moment before the reason for the question's relevancy would become apparent. "When you turn people into commodities, you remove them from the economy. When you remove people from the economy, you shrink the market. When you shrink the market, well, you know the rest," a wave of his hand cut his explanation short as he got to the point. "While I wouldn't be so rash as to equate Confederate citizens to slaves, their isolationist policies have had the same impact on the wider galactic scale."

"Nearly a third of the known Galaxy, cut off from everyone else. Millions, billions, maybe even trillions of consumers and workers removed from participation in the galactic economy. The exports of One-hundred thirty major systems coming to a screeching halt. Billions of credits worth of imports into Confederate space, lost. Businesses fail, jobs disappear, poverty rises." His brow raised in a gesture as if to ask if she saw where he was going with this. "And inside of Confederate space? It gets even worse. Industries that relied on foreign exports die completely. Industries that relied on skilled foreign labor or external collaboration, almost all dead." Avernus shook his head. "Economic freedom is the stepping stone to independent freedom and prosperity as a whole. I won't deceive you and act as if we are moralistic equals that have the same or similar reasons for our opposition to the Confederacy."

"Frankly, I could personally care less for their freedom and prosperity. However, those who wish to act in their own best interest are often guided by the 'invisible hand' to act in the best interest of everyone else. That is, of course, if they actually wish to succeed. My wish to dismantle the Confederacy stems purely from a business perspective. However, it just so happens that my business and your 'business' need to reach the same initial goal to succeed. So, our needs just so happen to line up." It definitely didn't seem like a virtuous cause, but altruism with selfish motivations was altruism all the same, wasn't it? Avernus didn't believe for a moment that Scherezade didn't have some ulterior motive for targeting them, hidden behind a mask of morality and liberation. "And as far as the New-Imperials are concerned," he gestured up and down to himself. "I died on Dromund Kaas months ago, not too long after the New-Imperial liberation of Mygeeto, Scipio, and Muunilinst. Invading CIS for economic factors wouldn't exactly be something that would fit their MO. Even if it was, I'm far from the person who would have the authority."

"I'm sure you won't be surprised to hear this but to finally answer your question; No, I was not elected as the Viceroy of Chrisophsis, but then again who is? Though, I kept policies in line with the Gat Tambor 's initial vision of Christophsis. I doubt the people are as happy or nearly as free under whatever new leader they've installed. Chrisophsis under my administration was one of the only places where foreign goods could enter the Confederacy. My only regret is that my plans to further undermine 'Confederacy First' weren't able to come to fruition."

Scherezade deWinter
​