Junction The Divide | TSC & TSO & ME Junction of Carratos, Ank Kit'aar, Sarka | IC

[Mercy]

OBJECTIVE 1: THE WAR COUNCIL
IMMEDIATE TAG: Lysander von Ascania Cassilde Vortayn Aria Talorien Srina Talon Astra Sadow Leontis Antalis
LOCATION: On board the Tyranny

OBJECTIVE TAG: Srina Talon Arris Windrun Quinn Varanin Aether Verd Ivalyn Yvarro Nagual Aria Talorien Lysander von Ascania Cassilde Vortayn Varin Mortifer Helix Adonis Angelis IV Taeli Raaf Gerwald Lechner Amelia von Sorenn Astra Sadow Leontis Antalis Zeptepi Zambrano CT-312 Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Siv Kryze Darth Reign Veyla Krinn Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Lirka Ka Adelle Bastiel Mia Monroe Lily Rhodes Nephthys Nardithi-Verd I am so sorry if I missed anyone needed, tag list BIG CHONK.

"So…I'm afraid your standards are suspiciously low, sestra.", the deadpan quip was met with a phantom curve of the kiss of her mouth

A head tilt there and Mercy leaned in to kiss Srina's cheek. "You sell yourself short, darling. As you always do." And unlike others making compliments, Srina knew that Mercy wasn't simply trying to make her happy. Whilst others might not see the difference between one Echani and the next. The same could not be said for the Empress of the Core.

Her heartbeat, the way her blood ran through her veins, her scent, her breath... all of it was unique.

"You will take my compliment and you will like it. Otherwise I might decide you need to go get some more rest after all." Was this vengeance for the time that Srina had become Mercy's caretaker after Humbarine? No, certainly not. Mercy was not that petty. Except for that evil gleam in her eye... that looked at least a little petty.

"Empress of the Throneworld, Ruler Victorious of Abregado-rae," Astra paused to give the woman a polite bow and flourish of her jacket without letting her eyes fall from the other woman. "Everything is to your specification, I trust? No need met unsatiated?"

Astra had a way with words that pleased the gigantic ego gathered within Mercy's massive frame.

She smiled, predatory teeth exposed, as she inclined her head towards Sadow.

"Chairwoman, as gregarious as always, your executive board must be positively pleased with you. And yes, you did very well stocking things up, thank you, Astra." Then she squeezed Srina's hand and gestured towards Astra and Leontis Antalis when he joined them. "Astra Sadow and Leontis of House Antalis, darling." Murmured in her ear. "They were instrumental in capturing the spaceport being used to evacuate the civilians."

Her attention returned to the duo in front of them.

"Just as your executive board, I have been very pleased with the both of you. Seek me out after the War Council... you will find that I always reward those that serve me well. Until then... enjoy the gathering and do try to stay out of trouble. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." Her eyes gleaming at that. Everyone here knew that if anyone caused trouble for fun it was Mercy.

Her attention shifted briefly to Cassilde Vortayn strolling away to merge into the crowd. Then to Aria Talorien . "Keep an eye on my cupbearer, Aria. Any hints of sedition... I expect you to be truthful with me."

"I think…We did well, sestra."

Mercy nodded and smiled. "We did, didn't we? Let's greet our people before we retire for the war council."

___​

They cleaved through the crowd of gathered warriors, Sith and Mandalorians alike, until they reached center from which they'd be seen and heard by all in the room.

"We have not seen a gathering like this in a long time." Mercy called out once the crowd quieted down before the two Sith Empresses. "Sith, Mandalorians, rulers and lords, warriors and destroyers. Our way is war. Our hunger for blood unmatched." Amber eyes ran along the crowd, taking it all in, soaking in the attention.

Once upon a time she had been nothing more than brawler in the fighting pits of Nar Shaddaa. Fighting for glory, for cash and for vanity. The Mercy of then would never have imagined herself here, now, next to her sestra... gathering the strongest and most powerful of the Galaxy together... to try and forge an alliance that would make the Galaxy tremble.

No wonder her ego was the size of the Tyranny itself.

"But we have division. There is uncertainty between the Sith of the Order and the Sith of the Covenant." Her eyes met Aether Verd through the crowd and rested there.

"And the genocide of Mandalore, five decades ago, casts a shadow over Sith and Mandalorian relations ever since. But even with everything that divides us, we have more that unites us. We have the same enemies. Imperial blight. Renegade scum. Jedi heresy. Even the Mandalorian Empire has had to root out the Lighbringers in Hapes... and they will not stop, not unless we stop them ourselves."

Mercy plucked one of the flutes of drinks, comical in her large hand, and raised it to the crowd.

"Celebrate today, mingle, make plans for the future. And if I have my way, by the end of the day, there will be an agreement that will make the Galaxy quake in their fucking boots."

She swallowed the alcohol and gave Srina Talon a moment to add anything she'd want.

Only then breaking away to join the Sith Order and the Mandalorian respresentatives in the private room.

__​

SO representatives: Srina Talon Quinn Varanin Lirka Ka Gerwald Lechner Taeli Raaf
ME representatives: Aether Verd Mia Monroe Adelle Bastiel
SC representatives: Arris Windrun Mercy

On the way there, she noticed Arris Windrun , Lily Rhodes and Quinn Varanin - it made her happy that her friends were all getting along. Mercy would have to ask about how that was going later.

Her presence entered the room before she stepped foot inside. It was like the pulse of her heartbeat, each time a tide rolling off of her, the Dark Side flooding out from her.

Before sitting down in her chair, Mercy pulled the one next to her out for Srina, only once her sestra was seated... would the Covenant Lord sit down herself.

"Apologies for the wait. Duties of the host... but welcome, to all of you. Some I know, some I hope to get to know soon enough."

.

 

[Brool Koon]

Brool didn't need an explanation to feel the Force echoing from deeper in the tombs. What he did need an explanation for was the darkness that rode along with that echo. He nervously looked down toward the beast that stood guard over the young woman. It didn't look like any of the dogs they had back on Dorin, or even the creatures he had encountered while attending the various Jedi academies across Republic and Alliance space. It was something darker, darker like the pull of the tomb before them. Brool wasn't sure if the two were connected, but something told him he was better off not finding out the hard way.

It started as a ghostly sound, almost like someone saying his name but from much further away. Far enough away that he could ignore it at first, but it kept getting closer. As he made his way through the tombs, and especially once he found the Dark Sider and the Mandalorian, it had grown impossible to ignore. It now felt like someone was whispering directly into his ear, whispering things that only Brool should have known. His name was one thing, but then came places he remembered, pieces of conversations, and finally a voice whose cadence he knew well enough that he refused to acknowledge it.

The Padawan wasn't sure what kind of trick of the Dark Side this was, but he was positive it had its roots in something malevolent. Whatever was speaking to him wanted his attention, and for now Brool was determined not to give it any more than it had already taken. Nysa broke Brool from his spiral when she produced the crystals. After the time he had spent being abused by the Sith, he was not quick to trust something handed to him by one. Though his energy was too low to properly examine the item with the Force, the Kel Dor could at least rely on the Mandalorian's intuition. If he accepted, then Brool would as well.

He watched Sylor for a moment before reaching out to take one for himself.

There was no sense in working against himself. If he wanted to live, he would have to accept help from things much darker than Nysa.

TAG: Nysa Veilwalker Sylor

​

 

[Adonis Angelis IV]

The chaos and noise of the main hall drowned out anything over Adonis's comms. It felt like floodgates opened and everyone entered the fray. Some of the Sith faces were familiar, some of them were not, and a lot of them were hidden by masks. It was almost comforting for Adonis, he didn't feel out of place wearing his buy'ce like he did when he went to most non-Mandalorian events. Not that he would consider anything about this evening 'comfortable'.

When he realized the other Mandalorians were tied up in their social responsibilities, the Warden decided he would just people-watch. Even if there was promise of peace, a Mandalorian wasn't truly content unless he had a headcount of everyone in the room. So he started counting. There were enough bounties in this room for someone to retire their grandkids' kids if they collected. He figured no one in this room, or likely the entire galaxy, was stupid enough to attempt that bounty, however.

The size of some of the Sith Lords was impressive, enough that even seven feet of armored Adonis felt a little below average standing among them. They would never be able to read that from his body language, however. Even through his beskar'gam you could see his back was straight and his shoulders relaxed. He had the posture of someone who had been raised to do this kind of thing.

Turns out, underneath that wardog's collar was a pedigree coat.

Shortly after the rest of the leadership arrived, their hostess called everyone's attention. Mercy and Srina Talon stood together at the center of the hall. Combined, they held a gravitational pull akin to standing inside a sun. Ironically, what radiated from them could be called anything but sunshine. There was a power that choked the air in the room. It pulled eyes away from conversations and drowned every other voice into silence. Calling their presence dark would be a disservice to what they truly were- wrecking balls.

Through all the flash and boasting, Mercy spoke to something Adonis hadn't heard anyone say outside of his own people.

the genocide of Mandalore

The words that followed that didn't register to the Warden. He was still trying to process that he had heard those words come out of the Empress of the Core- let alone while standing next to the Empress of the Sith Empire. Quickly, Adonis scanned the room for Aether Verd , wanting to see the Mand'alor's reaction.

If there was any hope for an agreement between the three powers, this was a hell of a way to introduce it.

__________________
​

Soon the speaking picked back up, with a new topic to gossip about, and Adonis was interested in what he could hear. So he decided to make his way through the crowd and see if he could tell what people were saying about it.

TAG: OPEN

​

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Mercy | Srina Talon | Quinn Varanin | Aether Verd | Ivalyn Yvarro | Nagual | Aria Talorien | Lysander von Ascania | @Cassilde Vortayn| Varin Mortifer | Helix | Adonis Angelis IV | Taeli Raaf | Gerwald Lechner | Amelia von Sorenn | Astra Sadow | Leontis Antalis | Zeptepi Zambrano | CT-312 | Darth Carnifex | Darth Prazutis | Siv Kryze | Darth Reign | Veyla Krinn | Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr | Lirka Ka | Adelle Bastiel | Apologies to any i may have missed this is the tag list I knew of

ABOARD THE TYRANNY

The decloaked 'Huxian' was a sleek, ship that was clearly of a TIE interceptor lineage. As Kurayami set it down in the designated landing bay, he listened carefully as the engine arrays spooled down and the hum of the other systems slowly retreated. Sure, the displays could tell him all he needed to know so far as the status of everything, but there was also a sense he had after having handbuilt and maintained the thing over many years. Each tick of the power couplings as the power came online or went offline told him whether or not the ship was ready or needed work still. Today it was the former. She was still ready after Thyferra's bloodbath. a slow smile played over his face as the ramp lowered finally. As he exited he leaned down and zoomed in with his cybernetic eye on a small area of the hull. "Those bastards scratched the paint! Damnit!" Because clearly that was worth the upset [[::R6, place an order wiwth Auaraxis for touch up paint to be sent to the Tyrrany so we can get this sorted.::]] A negative beep followed by the Astro mech bumping his leg from the side a reminder of 'hey down here.' A rapid fire string of whistles later. [[::Fine, if you have some to do the job then do it, and make sure it is perfect. I have a meeting to get to.::]]

The man inside the armor was not anyone overly impressive, and caried only a single lightsaber and two modified SE-44C heavy pistols, not like many of the titans in this room. Yet the presence in the Force was one that was undeniable. The eye of a storm, tinged with the feel of the Netherworld, and yet no one side dominated. As he stood in the middle of the gathering he scanned the crowd, picking out those whom he recognized amongst the crowd gathered. It seemed there were many, some of whom he had not expected to see here. Aether Verd, Mand'alor the Iron, his nephew. Ivalynn Yvarro, Grand Vizier of the Imperial Commonwealth of Dosuun and more family of his, part of him wanted to say niece but he always got confused if it was that or grand-niece officially. He shrugged it off and continued scanning the crowd, Srian Talon. Epress of the Eleventh Sith order now, and one of his oldest and most beloved freinds, closer than many whom he had considered family before. That was all the family or at least closest to family he recognized off the cuff. There may be more that he wasn't picking up right away, but there were still many others he recognized from previous gatherings and he now realized an interesting truth.

This was no mere social gathering. This was to figure out a path forward. He had deep ties in two of these three factions represented. That made him wonder, would he be forced to represent a single interest in the discussions? If so which side would he represent in the end?

 

[Ives]

Corpo Datahive, Corpo City, on Planet Corpo (Abregado Rae)

The Rodian's blood dripped with a steady tap, tap from Ives' wrench. A green pool of it had accumulated on the floor. More had painted Ives' face and uniform. The first thing he really noticed about it was how cold it was. He'd worked on Rodians before, the cold blood wasn't anything new. This Rodian--no visible breathing, apparent heavy blood-loss, critical condition--wouldn't be making it.

Ives scanned the hallway. No one else was present, nor did he hear any footsteps. The walls were intact, no immediately obvious sources of danger he could identify anywhere. The dimly lit greys appeared more vibrant than they had earlier. He knelt to take the Rodian's pulse.

The wrench clinked as it touched the floor, and Ives grimaced. He noted he was still breathing heavily. He did his best to steady himself, to not misread the pulse, but even through a strong tremble, when he touched the Rodian's wrist there was nothing. Not even a faint pulse, just nothing at all.

"RNI," he whispered.

He hadn't fallen back on med-tech terminology in a while. There was no reason to go through the procedures with the Rodian, not really. He knew that.

Ives let the wrench clatter to the floor. His mouth was dry. He had more trouble standing up again than he should have. His feet carried him down the corridor, around the corner, and back into the alley. He'd fished out a cigarette and lit it. The first drag tasted like acrid dust. He coughed as he exhaled, then puked.

// cue the interlude

 

[Tobias Dib]

Objective: 3
Tags: Seren Gwyn

One giant hand moved to his belt and retrieved the hilt of his great saber. While the enlarged blade would typically be more difficult to handle for an average-sized person, he was anything but. Nearly seven feet tall without his armored boots, with shoulders the size of a door and a girth of two hundred and fifty pounds, Tobias was anything but average. His hair swayed freely to his shoulder pauldrons as he turned his glowing blue eyes to the woman beside him and listened to her words.

"Titles are irrelevant. They speak to positioning and not the character of the person. You didn't surrender to a Jedi. Nor did you to a Sith. I am neither. The same could be said of yourself." One hand on the lip of the raised sarcophagus, he lightly vaulted into the casket and descended toward a portal writhed with green and red energy.

His words drifted over his shoulder as he paused on the step above the portal. "The galaxy tries to put everything into columns because it is easier to understand something that is labeled. A title is only shackles that try to define and limit you. Break the shackles, Seren. Do not allow others to limit who you are. Then you will be free." First one boot, and then the other, stepped across the plane separating the physical world and the Nether Realm. His body grew cold as he crossed. Icy needles froze and burned his nerves as he walked down the stairs. When his head passed through, his eyes beheld a wasteland of sand and bones.

Long strides carried him to the earth, and he paused to turn, watching Seren appear between two totem poles of obsidian that pulsed with green energy. The stairs were nowhere to be seen. The skies were dark grey, red streaks of energy forked across the cloudless heavens. A low chuckle was allowed to rattle in his chest. Not the heavens. The belly of hell. The dunes to his left were windswept, a hot breeze that felt like the exhale of a demon—putrid stench, moistly hot, and unpleasant. To the right was a forest. Not trees, but upthrust spires that held black growth along their surface. Some form of vegetative lifeform that pulsed as it slithered across unnatural stone composites.

Directly ahead lay two enormous mountains; a dark valley filled with black mist nestled between them. A fortuitous placement in the Nether. He would find what he sought in each biome. The Sith troopers came after Seren, their number enlarged to thirteen. A good number, Nemesis mused silently. He shifted his stance in the soft sand, looking toward the dunes of despair. "Troopers. Stay, defend the gate, and wait for our return." His gaze fell on the woman beside him.

"In this place, the dead do not hide. Here, they are the predators, and we are the prey. But they are unaware that today, the prey wants to be found." His long strides began to consume the distance as he walked with purpose toward the Dunes of Despair.

 

[Lyssara Talis]

The earth had opened.

Lyssara stood near the edge of the rupture, silent beneath a sky still scarred by what had befallen Abregado-rae. Far below, ancient stone emerged from between broken shelves of earth, architecture that by all accounts had no reason to exist here. The shifting of the continent had torn away whatever had concealed it, leaving broad stairs descending toward a structure that had apparently waited beneath the surface for longer than anyone knew.

To most, that would have been the strangest thing about it. It wasn't.

Long raven hair stirred gently behind the Miraluka as she stood before the descent, dressed in black with the familiar velvet covering bound across the empty wells where her eyes would be. Intricate Dathomiri symbols had been worked into the sable cloth, nearly invisible until the light caught them just so. She made no effort to remove it as her attention remained fixed upon the darkness below.

The Force painted the world differently for Lyssara. Stone and earth were merely shapes within something infinitely larger, while the people preparing for the expedition behind her burned brightly with the unmistakable presence of life. Beyond them stretched the wounded landscape of Abregado-rae and the scars left upon the Force by its destruction.

Ahead was something else, and Lyssara tilted her head slightly. The Netherworld had a presence she knew intimately. She had walked beneath its strange skies, listened to the whispers of its dead, and learned at the feet of a woman who had belonged among them. Even after returning to the realm of the living, some small part of that place had never entirely released its hold upon her.

What she felt below wasn't unfamiliar. That was precisely what intrigued her. She descended the first few steps, the soft sound of her boots against ancient stone disappearing into the opening. One hand drifted along the wall beside her, fingertips brushing dust from markings exposed for the first time in untold years. She lingered over them briefly before withdrawing her hand.

No Sith presence should have existed here, yet someone had built this place; perhaps more importantly, something had revealed it now. A faint emerald flame appeared above Lyssara's palm. It burned without heat, casting sickly green illumination across the stone as she continued several steps farther before stopping at the threshold. Beyond it waited a passage swallowed almost completely by darkness.

The flame bent toward it.

Not with the movement of air.

Toward it.

Lyssara watched the reaction quietly before closing her fingers around the flame and extinguishing it.

"Interesting."

The word was spoken softly, and to herself she. Without concern, she stepped into the darkness; she was shaped by the nether; only those who couldn't see needed to fear the dark.

Tag: Rorie | OPEN

 

[Quinn Varanin]

Direct Tags
//: Arris Windrun //: Lily Rhodes //: CT-312 //:

There it was again.

That flicker of emotion she had recognized on Abregado-Rae. Quinn had locked most of her empathy away, keeping that part of her protected. Too easily could it be used against her, a direct path into the depths of her mind. But the rolling and violent hatred that loomed thick in the Force caught her attention. Eyes flickered towards the blonde next to Arris once more, the source of it all.

What did Quinn do to this woman for all of this to be directed towards her? This was only the second time Quinn had met her; perhaps it had to do with the moments whispered between the Echani Queen and Arris? It was the only thing that crossed Quinn's mind in this moment.

What followed the hate… intent…

A choice in those few moments was made, and Quinn held her breath as she tried to think of what to do. There were too many people in this area; the Tyranny was in so many words, closed off for escape. If this choice included whatever her intent was…

Quinn braced herself, muscles tensing and her jaw tightening—waiting.

But it never came.

Arris' voice brought her back to the reality of the meeting. The sounds of mingling and conversation echoed around the Echani once more. She released the breath she had been holding with a smile as she now looked between the two women.

Arris promptly introduced the woman beside her as Lily Rhodes, her apprentice. Quinn filed the information away, still feeling the silent contraction of emotion and intent. Arris' gaze locked on the Echani as she nodded, almost understanding everything that was happening.

She smiled at the rest of Arris' words, but it wasn't her smile — it was the one that was crafted for events such as this. She was, as Arris had pointed out, the Sith Princess and Queen of Eshan.

And finally, a very important friend.

Connections… a warning.

"I'm also a Dark Councilor," Quinn teased, her eyes following Arris' towards the apprentice, then back to Arris, but not before she looked towards CT-312.

She knew the guard would be on edge especially feeling the feed back from the Echani. She brushed her hair back, a subtle gesture that she's okay.

Before the subject changed, the Echani slipped in something valuable, hopefully to Master and Apprentice. Lily's emotions flaring and her intent screaming in the back of Quinn's mind was dangerous. Some would… could glean this and assume it a threat. Like Arris had pointed out, Quinn was connected, too many strings attached to her for her to be so easily erased.

The High Republic struggled with this, too.

"Pleasure to meet you, finally, Ms. Rhodes." Quinn continued to smile, never faltering, perfectly practiced.

"I offer my help if you ever wish to learn any protection and control over certain gifts." She smiled at Arris now, letting it shift into something more familiar for the Cyborg.

"Your Master knows how to contact me."

Arris mentioned the victory over the Republic, a wound that still ached in her belly as she nodded. Winning Thyferra brought power and resources to the Order, something they needed especially after the Republic had wooed the Thyferran government to side with them.

The death and destruction sat uneasily in Quinn's stomach.

"Why are you jealous?" Quinn teased as she leaned closer in turn. She let her affections towards Arris distract her from the annoyance she felt with her own emotions towards the victory and the situation with Lily. Too many unknown factors: the source of Lily's hate and the device that was a 'contingency' plan.

"While you're jealous, I'm relieved to see that you're okay…" Her voice lowered, quiet enough to be left between the three of them.

"I'm sorry; what I gave you wasn't much help."

Spoiler: Tag List

Mercy Srina Talon Aether Verd Ivalyn Yvarro Nagual Aria Talorien Lysander von Ascania Cassilde Vortayn Varin Mortifer Helix Adonis Angelis IV Taeli Raaf Gerwald Lechner Amelia von Sorenn Astra Sadow Leontis Antalis Zeptepi Zambrano CT-312 Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Siv Kryze Darth Reign Veyla Krinn Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Lirka Ka Adelle Bastiel Mia Monroe Lily Rhodes Nephthys Nardithi-Verd

 

[Ives]

Corpo Datahive, Corpo City, on Planet Corpo (Abregado Rae)

The holo-recording replayed the scene. The moment the sec officer bit the tibanna, to the brief pursuit, to the moment Ives dropped the wrench. Watching the entire exchange back was surreal. What had felt like an eternity took barely two minutes on the recording.

The holo froze. The door had swished open behind Ives, though he hadn't registered who'd entered.

Ives sipped from the warm cup in his hands, staring at himself mid wrench-swing. It registered that he'd been fighting for his life in that moment, but looking from the outside in, something in his heart tugged at rationality of that wrench-swing. His stomach begun to curl, but a hand on his shoulder snapped him out of his spiral.

"Good job, kid. You saved me a lot of credits with that stunt you pulled," the voice belonged to Callo, Ives' foreman. The Umbaran was being uncharacteristically...not-choleric.

"Took some guts going at him with only a wrench," Callo continued.

He gave Ives a pat on the shoulder, and turned to leave.

"Oh, that server rack you dropped, don't worry, I'll cover it," Callo said.

Ives met the man's grey eyes for the first time. He had a thing for reading people's intentions, and he could see the strings attached to this reprieve extended into a shadow-draped future.

Over the next weeks, Ives wasn't assigned any double shifts. Nor did he have to go through the usual song-and-dance of asking for his pay until the foreman finally coughed it up. Work didn't exactly improve, but Callo became much less of a headache.

// cue the exit

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: Vess Sadragen //:
//: Attire //:

Having a tag-along was not the plan for the Corellian. It had been too long since she had someone beside her in a sense like Vess. Too many memories came with her company, and Allyson did her best to push them down. She wasn't a mentor, she wasn't a Master, and she wasn't someone who could handle the ups and downs of this kind of relationship. At the end of the day, everything came down to one fact.

Zaavik was her mistake, one that she couldn't erase nor deny.

Keeping Vess at an arm's length wasn't easy. With the knowledge she had learned about the woman, she recognized familiar notes. She knew distance was something she couldn't keep. There was an annoyance to the Corellian, but she did her best to keep it silent, at her wife's suggestion. Vess needed someone, and Allyson had suddenly become responsible for the broken birdling.

Despite this, she didn't regret grabbing her from the snow.

Vess broke their momentary silence as she whined. Allyson looked towards the girl from the corner of her eye and shook her head with an amused grin. They had been walking for some time, but Allyson was often able to ignore hunger. But when it came up, the Corellian realized how hungry she really was.

"Heal faster?" Allyson shrugged at the notion of the woman's sling. She paused and realized the usual snark wasn't necessary.

Sighing, she shrugged.

"Doctors said you shouldn't need it much longer. And it doesn't affect your legs, so walking a few feet more ain't going to kill you."

Allyson looked towards where the smell of food was and nodded, "But you've convinced me; we can stop… Also, no need to keep saying thank you."

She frowned; being thanked reminded her of her old life, the one where she was considered a hero to those that knew her. Allyson wasn't the selfless type; she didn't do what she did because of some righteous need. The Corellian was more selfish than anything—having sold out those she served with.

Luckily for Vess, she had not been considered a Shadow.

They sat down, and Allyson quickly began looking over the menu. She glanced at Vess, who was struggling but still succeeding at her task. Her quip earned a smirk as Allyson let her eyes return to the menu, letting the woman have her moment with the folded paper.

"Yes, perfectly functional — I'll have you shooting arrows in no time." The Corellian teased as she continued to look through the different food items. It disgusted her how easily their conversation flowed, how simple Vess had fallen into that category. Allyson didn't know if it was because they got along well and shared an understanding of their roles as savior and victim.

Or Vess was slipping into the place that was left vacant by Zaavik's supposed death.

Feeling him being replaced tightened her throat as she wondered if this was something she should allow.

Eyes wandered towards Vess, who seemed to be focused on anything and everything that wasn't the menu. Allyson didn't need to follow her eyes to figure out what she was trying to do. She let her have her moment, let her look silly and suspicious as they sat there. Allyson figured out what she was going to have and then looked over the menu top once again.

"If you're going to do that," she glanced up towards the buildings that Vess was looking at. "Do try and not look suspicious. You look like you're trying to scope the place out to rob."

She settled into her seat further and put the menu down. Allyson knew already why the Keshian was doing what she was doing. Allyson had been in her spot a few times before. The desperate need to communicate with someone you care about drove many insane.

"I'm already two steps ahead of you; let's eat, and then you can call. The building you're looking at has what you want — but we're not going to slice it the usual way."

Allyson grinned. It was time to see how far Vess's mechu deru could go and maybe teach her a few things.

"Anyways, I think you're right about them being close." Allyson nodded.

"I can feel that little chit Arris Windrun a light-year away."

It was true, as much as Allyson didn't excel in the usual ebb and flow of the Force. Arris had been at her root, a creation of the Corellians. A piece of her was left within the Talousian. Even as Arris swapped parts and improved her build, whatever brought Arris back from the dead still sang for its creator.

It was annoying.