Private The Nocturne Covenant

[Srina Talon]

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TAG: Mercy
LOCATION: Jutrand [Private Quarters]

The balcony overlooked the seemingly endless onyx and gold sprawl of the Upper City of Jutrand. Jagged towers of polished obsidian reached toward the night sky like gnarled fingers while the light of artificial moons bathed the area in a cold silver glow. Hues of red lingered while thunder clouds rolled in the distance and smog hid the lower levels from sight…But it gave the synth world a quality that was almost dreamlike. It turned the Empress, silent and still, into a ghost.

One hand rest against a railing of carved stone while white-gold hair stirred like silk in manufactured wind. The pale fabric and armorweave she wore shimmered faintly with telltale runes pressed into cloth that caught iridescently along the edges before disappearing. She would seem beautiful, untouchable, and unreachable. Perhaps, distracted.

The gathering at the Spire had gone well enough…But her instincts were sharp. She did not have the luxury of lamenting what the return of her husband meant, nor was she swayed by grief or doubt. The Force rolled strangely tonight. It was uneven…

Like pressure building beneath ice.

Gold-hewn eyes looked toward the horizon beyond the city, though there was nothing to see with mortal sight alone. The shape of a city-planet in the Core lingered at the edge of her awareness like a wound that refused to close. Beneath the clouds, beneath the show of civility, she could taste the truth of them. Their blood—Treachery. Former Galatic Alliance idealists playing at virtue while hiding within the body of Imperial remnants. Filth wrapping itself in banners and speeches, pretending they were something new. Thinking, the dust had settled.

Cowards always gathered in ruin when all else failed.

And they were gathering, now.

Srina could feel them moving against the current of the Dark Side like oil atop water. Smiling.

Paying tax to the Sith Covenant for continued existence.

The jasmine-and-rain scent around her sharpened subtly as her fingers curled once against the tone railing, hard enough, for faint fractures to whisper beneath her hand. Slowly…She let go.

She exhaled.

"Will you remain in the shadows all night?"

 

[Mercy]

Srina Talon

A large shadow peeled away from the wall and stepped up behind Srina, her arms going around her waist and slowly pulling the smaller woman into her chest. They had played this dance before and back then Mercy had gotten herself burned.

It was different now however. They actually knew each other, more importantly knew what to expect from one another after waging battle after battle.

"Steady, sestra..." Mercy murmured in her ear as she held the other Empress in her arms and hugged her lightly. "I am here and you don't have to be a ghost for the night any more."

She breathed in and felt the tension in her battle sister.

Felt the fury that was skin-deep and wanted to spill out to ruin everyone's day. Srina could then this planet to ashes if she so pleased and it was a remarkable display of restraint that she did not.

It made Mercy curious.

"What has gotten you so riled tonight? As far as I know... The ball went rather well, nobody of important died... Should my sister not be pleased by another day passed without blood spilled?"

It was one of the few times the Mercy wondered if she had made the right choice all those years ago.

Reading minds right about now would be incredibly helpful.

 

[Srina Talon]

​

TAG: Mercy
LOCATION: Jutrand [Private Quarters]

She allowed herself to be moved, the cut flower, displayed in a crystal vase.

Her gaze remained forward with an expression that was tethered somewhere far away, empty, but whatever she saw that no one else could see…It mattered. Mercy was one of the fair few who could invade her personal space without consequence, though that had been a gift that was hard won. Fought for—With charred skin and a broken face. “That is my place…”

The words were uttered without any sense of bitterness. She was not her daughter, the sun, that lit any room she touched. Not her husband, who had the charisma to charm even the nastiest shrew. She did not have the cult following that Mercy or Carnifex boasted. She served her nation best when she operated in the shadows and arrived only when they required her, only when the wolves of war nipped and scratched at her doors.

“I do not require saving.”

"What has gotten you so riled tonight? As far as I know... The ball went rather well, nobody of important died... Should my sister not be pleased by another day passed without blood spilled?"

For a moment…She remained silent in the embrace of the taller woman. The weight at her back and the weight of another living thing grounded her to the balcony instead of letting her drift somewhere far uglier. Her eyes closed briefly at the sound of her battle sister speaking, though, the tension beneath pale skin did not entirely easy. “Mm.”

A soft sound, thoughtful.

“Perhaps that is precisely the problem.”

The Echani tilted her head slightly against Mercy’s shoulder…Still—Seeing something, Mercy could not.

“No blood. No screaming senators. No desperate final stands from the Galactic Alliance or the Faithless…”, she murmured, with a voice that was light as air, dry as ash. “They smile too easily, Sestra.”

“Vultures…Pretending to be songbirds.”

She drew in a deep breath, and her shoulders rolled once while the Force moved within her and gave new information, compounded, on what her intelligence division had discovered. Once she knew where to look? It wasn’t hard to see her enemies beyond the pale, linger within their nightmares and learn their secrets. She was not Sith Empress because she had wed their Emperor. Empyrean could have chosen anyone to stand at his side, married or not, but he had chosen the former Confederate Exarch for a reason. The heart mattered…But not as much as her ability. “You have Faithless hiding like rats in your backyard. Humbarine, festers…While the Triumvirate collects…”

“Tax.”

The word was almost a sneer, though it wasn’t really meant for the Sith Covenant. The Faithless, Imperial-Scum, brought out the worst in her because of what they had done to her children. But…She could feel it. Feel them. “Alliance loyalists turned Imperial because they have no other master to serve. Opportunists, trying to survive the grand collapse….”

She frowned as she leaned back into Mercy just slightly, lashes lowering, but her spine was still stiff.

Angry.

“There is something more…I just cannot place it, another entity…But it is not clear. Certain decisions have not yet been made, so I cannot see further than that.”

But that was enough.

“You should speak to Arris.”

 

[Mercy]

Srina Talon

Mercy looked out to the sky, following Srina's gaze.

She saw nothing besides the stars, ink black and peace. It wasn't particularly appealing to her, Mercy preferred fire, and blood, and ash in the mouth to root herself back into the present.

"Mm, I have said it before..." As Srina pointed out that the success of the night was not as reassuring as it might seem. Snakes and vipers in the nest, hungry to bite at heels and stab others in the back. "We should burn them all and start anew." She murmured that in Srina's ear, but it was more a teasing tone than serious.

When they had first met it had been serious.

But things were different now.

Coruscant and Brosi had changed things for them both. Mercy no longer pushed at the things that Srina thought important to get a reaction out of her. She would support her sestra, even if it made little sense to her. That was what it meant to be embraced by a creature like Mercy. Loyalty, undying, until the very end.

Perhaps ironic coming from a psychopathic Sith Lord who had burned the Tapani sector and the Core to the ground.

But contrast made things interesting.

“You have Faithless hiding like rats in your backyard. Humbarine, festers…While the Triumvirate collects…”

“Tax.”

The word was almost a sneer, though it wasn’t really meant for the Sith Covenant. The Faithless, Imperial-Scum, brought out the worst in her because of what they had done to her children. But…She could feel it. Feel them. “Alliance loyalists turned Imperial because they have no other master to serve. Opportunists, trying to survive the grand collapse….”

Mercy didn't take the sneer as an insult to the Covenant and even if she had, she wouldn't have really cared. She wasn't protective of it, the way that Srina was of the Order, if they couldn't handle an insult, they didn't deserve to rule the Core and beyond.

"Alliance..." Mercy grew thoughtful there. "And you wish to ensure they do not survive..." The hatred her fellow Empress held for the Alliance was known to Mercy. She understood it after her sister had explained it to her. They had attacked those she loved, betrayed, like rats under the floor boards. And Srina was not one to forgive betrayal easily.

“You should speak to Arris.”

Once upon a time she would have.

But her thoughts went to Vestra Tane , dead and buried while Mercy was gone.

"Humbarine lies within the Core and I am its Empress. Ask what you want from me, dear sister." Kissing her jaw and then her cheek, soft and gentle, always an irony from a monster such as herself.

"Ask and I will give you what you want."

 

[Srina Talon]

​

TAG: Mercy
LOCATION: Jutrand [Private Quarters]

Srina did not address burning it all down, though; that was only because she did not want to lie to her battle sister. It was a thought that had crossed her mind. Burn it down…Start over, for the betterment of her children. But…Would that really help them? Taking all they had and sending them back to the muck to scrap and scramble for less than a fraction of the power they'd once held?

Perhaps it would make them stronger.

Perhaps it would be their undoing.

It was something to consider.

For perhaps the hundredth time, silence reigned supreme between the pair…With thoughts running rampant right off the edge of the world. The wintry Echani wasn't startled by the kiss to her cheek, nor was she dismissive of it. Mercy communicated best, often, the way an Echani youngling might...Openly. Honestly. There were no speeches or vows, but there was sincerity in every brush of skin. Presence—That did not require overly worded poetry to be understood.

Srina had learned that much, at least.

Her hand lifted slowly before it came to rest on Mercy's wrist, where it circled her waist.

"You should not be so generous with things that do not solely belong to you…What of the Triumvirate?"

The knowledge that she held about the hierarchy of the Sith Covenant was rather fluid, changing with every interaction. The red-haired woman was the Empress of the Core, but did that mean she had the final say when it came to a foreign power essentially creating a warfront on a world that taxes guaranteed sovereignty? At the question of the Alliance…Hawkish eyes snapped back to the present.

Hatred pulled her home.

Her ivory head tilted almost gently while something else felt…Unspoken. The suggestion of speaking to Arris Windrun was not one born of doubt but that of efficacy. Nations moved with skill and precision when they were all on the same page. "Did you two have an argument?"

The slender creature turned slowly in the arms that held her to look up at the face of one who, despite being so loud to the point of vulgarity, often kept her innermost thoughts to herself…Almost like a deflection. If she was so blunt…What could she have to hide?

More than the space between stars.

"I will destroy the remnants of the Alliance and the Faithless with or without your consent. They came for my children…I cannot forgive that.". she offered, soft, but that was her way. The Empress was not known for loud outbursts and killing at random, but rather, taking a scalpel to that which she deemed cancer so that it might be excised. These two groups were the epitome of malignant and mutated cells. They could not be allowed to exist, even, on foreign soil.

"If my actions displease the Covenant, I understand…But…"

Srina paused, lightly, stepping back. Not so far out of reach…But enough that Mercy would understand that she was speaking as the Empress of the Blackwall. Not merely her sister, even if they were one and the same. Both women knew that instinct told them to fight in tandem…

But this was different.

"I would rather we do this together. Destroy them, with me."

Not simply for her—With her.

 

[Mercy]

Srina Talon

Where Srina's hand shifted to cover her wrist, Mercy's hand responded, lacing her fingers into Srina's.

It was funny, seeing them pressed against Srina's core.

Mercy was the symbol of her own belief in power. Huge, hulking, a mountain that could not be ignored. And yet in that large hand fit a smaller one that could tear down Empires and burn planets alive. The size difference didn't matter, they were both at the apex of their strength and that realization on Brosi had made all the difference for Mercy.

It had allowed her to see Srina for what she was. Her sister, first bound by appetite, but since Coruscant bound by blood too.

"You should not be so generous with things that do not solely belong to you…What of the Triumvirate?"

@Arris Windrun was not one born of doubt but that of efficacy. Nations moved with skill and precision when they were all on the same page. "Did you two have an argument?"

"The Triumvirate is no more." Mercy finally said, in the wake of her initial silence, but answering two questions in one there. "Vestra got herself killed. Stupidly, brashly..." The large woman was insulting Vestra with her words, yet, her tone was that of pride. Her apprentice, through and through. With large balls of brass that didn't know better.

Maybe it had been her fault. She had always encouraged her apprentices to reach high and damn the consequences, because that was what worked for a creature like Mercy. Maybe she should have taught them consideration too... contemplation, to know when to pick your target.

But how could Mercy teach caution when that did not bleed into her flesh whatsoever?

"Windrun killed her after Vestra came for her." She loosened her grip so Srina could turn around and face her. Mercy looked down at her, her face was as it always was.

Smirking, arrogant and full of self-confidence.

But beneath those fiery amber eyes Srina could see something that few ever would.

Mercy was grieving for Vestra. Her apprentice. The first to have the boldness to grasp for power and claim it.

"I don't blame either. This is our way." Mercy said before leaning in to rub her nose against Srina's. "But after that, I will be as generous as it pleases me. And for you, dear sister, I will give what you desire."

Lips cut deeper, more smugly, if that was possible.

"Including my hand in combat as a battle-sister should."