Faction The People v. Lysander von Asacania

[Astra Sadow]

Astra hadn't missed Lysander's remark about letters, or Verity's casual dismissal of them. It wasn't that she could pierce the other woman's veil of secrecy and divine some hidden truth; but Lysander was her client and doubted he'd start making up facts unless he wanted to sabotage his own case. So, if the letters existed and were presumably cordial, and Verity declined to comment at length regarding them... Well, it was something to keep in mind in case it became useful later. Perhaps a little extra to push the Judge across the line of tolerance to supporting one of the motions that truly mattered?

"The sort of person that warrants parading before the public and denouncing atrocities of the Sith is often one connected with their inner workings -- the planning and execution. A proper ruling body, some might say. Were that the case, I wonder how many government officials can truthfully claim to possess clean hands?" Blood on his hands wasn't as damning as it sounded. Oh, it played well in the Court of Public Opinion, but then you just had to help them understand the world was painted in blood. Statistics often helped dull the emotional knee-jerk reaction after acknowledging the seriousness of the subject matter.

Verity wasn't taken lightly no matter how casual or relaxed Astra might seem. It was obvious shed done more than merely attend law school.

Before that very opponent could finish her claim that the Defense refused to participate -- a pretty narrative to persuade the Judge they had "tried" -- the door to the conference room opened and all eyes drew to the intruder. One Aurelian Veruna, King of Naboo. And the Voice too. How delightful. Astra's expression didn't darken with near the intensity of Verity, though Lysander's Counsel did lift a brow in askance.

"Or stand and speak," Astra invited with a more cordial tone than her opponent. "Either way, what brings such majestic company to our humble conference room?" Ordinarily she wouldn't be inclined to humoring an intruder any more than Verity; however, given the intensity of the emotional reaction to the man's presence, Astra couldn't help but want him to stay. If it threw Verity even a little off balance it benefited her client.

Verity Stuyveris | Lysander von Ascania | Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow Srina Talon Verity Stuyveris Aurelian Veruna Sibylla Abrantes Corazona von Ascania​

Across the table, Lysander's gaze caught on Verity just as her answer landed. There was something familiar in it, familiar enough that a reply jumped to his tongue before he could catch it. Fortunately, he bit it back just in time.

Focus folded inward once more. Definition bled from the edges of the conference room as Srina slipped into the channel left open. On this pass the images came back wrong, or rather.. more honest. Water poured over upturned hands once more, only this time the Empress stood inside the memory itself. Watching her reach, fingers closing around wrists, pulling those hands away from the current, left a strange lurch somewhere. With that same motion the stream cut off.

That landed much harder than the first exchange. Understanding lived there, and perhaps the terrible part was how precise it felt. What a strange, bruised thing, to feel so thoroughly known and still not forgiven for it.

Under the table, palms turned upward of their own accord, fingers curling as the next image bled back in. Nightstar lying just within reach, a weapon that only asked for direction. Then the colorless road wound forward, but now his footsteps stilled. Somewhere beyond, the voice kept pulling.

<<…Let me take you home…>>

Home became echoes down familiar halls, the floors of training rooms where countless hours disappeared, meals taken shoulder to shoulder, faces filling doorways. One face refused to blur with the others; with that came the sick twist of what leaving would truly mean.

Astra's voice gradually drew attention back to the room, only the latter half of her counsel catching. Glancing sideways toward the attorney, he gave a small nod. She knew this battlefield better than he did. Letting someone else hold the line while he sat in the room was strange, stranger still that he trusted her enough to do it. Probably best not to antagonize the prosecutor, he told himself.

For a little while, just listening seemed enough, until the door opened. Looking up, confusion furrowed Lysander's brow the instant Aurelian Veruna entered, and deepened further when Sibylla appeared at his side. Everyone seemed to have an opinion about what should be done with him. When a monarch got involved, that usually meant things were about to get much better or much worse.

<<…I will take you home…>>

Her position eluded him beyond the conference room, though he could tell she wasn't distant. A clench of the jaw marked that unspoken bond. Within irises of emerald, gold spilled outward like ink dispersing in water.

Then the last vision slipped through. The Hall of Justice as it stood now, pristine and orderly.. until fire took it from the inside out. Flames chewing through columns, racing down corridors and galleries, dozens trapped under that very roof with nowhere to run.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

William Thule Srina Talon Corazona von Ascania Andromeda Demir
CC: Lysander von Ascania

Bright blue eyes clashed with emerald green for a second as the prisoner looked their way. Though Soph knew his attention had to be on his sisters. Tension she hadn't known she'd been holding slowly released from her clenched frame as Lysander and the rest of the party exited the courtroom. Murmurers rose up. Many stood and crossed corridors to talk to others. While others began to leave. She lost site of her brother and cousin.

Bandaged neck craned behind them then shifted back to Cora as the jedi spoke.

There was...something.

Not quite as strong as that feeling she'd felt just before the killing began on Tapani. That feeling that had saved herself and her cousin, Loren Ardemark . And her brother Helios Ardemark . Either someone was very skilled. Or, Soph still had a lot of training to catch up on. Probably a combination of both. Frustration tugged golden brows together at the self-realization.

The murmuring of people. That lingering gaze of Lysander - his eyes like a ghost that wouldn't leave her and give her peace. The room suddenly felt very suffocating. Claustrophobic. Her dress felt too tight. The air too stale. The trickling crowds too much. The warning in the force too grating.

She pushed to her feet, hands smoothing down the sides of her dress.

"Cora. I'm sorry. I need to step outside. I-," she couldn't explain it. PTSD? A restlessness? A yearning to move on? Wanting to run and never look back while wishing she could go back to Tapani. Wishing for something she could never have. Knowing that even if she could go back to Tapani before that day or even visit it now. The version of herself then was long gone.

"I won't be far if...something happens."

Eyes holding back emotions she didn't want to or couldn't name shifted away from Cora's face as shame colored her cheeks. Turning, she began making her way to the exit.

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: D'Qar

Equipment:
Vanguard Robes | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | Tic

Lorn's arrival barely registered. Ace remained perched atop the broad stone while the holofeed flickered before him. Even the older man's joints popping as he lowered himself beside him failed to pull Ace's attention away.

Then Lorn opened his mouth. Ace kissed his teeth sharply and finally turned, dark eyes narrowing into a glare.

"Don't even make jokes about that." His stare lingered before returning to the feed. "Lucky we even made it out... Shouldn't you be interrogating Her or something?"

Tic glanced between them from Ace's shoulder before wisely returning his attention to the trial. Ace tried to do the same.

Arguments over the media quickly became arguments over jurisdiction. Most of the legal terminology escaped him, but Astra Sadow 's point was easy enough to understand. Lysander had been captured on Jakku, outside Republic territory, and she was challenging their authority to prosecute him.

Ace frowned. His own circumstances had been different. He'd willingly surrendered himself to the Republic. Lysander hadn't. Whatever Ace thought about Golden Boy answering for what he'd done, the law couldn't only matter when it was convenient. Apparently the judge agreed there was enough uncertainty to warrant a recess.

Then came talk of a settlement and Ace shifted forward. Maybe that was better. A trial risked leaving Lysander imprisoned for most of his life, if not all of it. But there had to be consequences, he just didn't want those consequences to become the end of Lysander's life.

His gaze settled briefly on Corazona von Ascania when the feed swept across the gallery. The bandages covering part of her face made his expression tighten. Lysander had always spoken about protecting his family, yet there sat his sister carrying wounds from the war he'd helped perpetuate.

Another sweep of the gallery had him searching unconsciously. Still no Fatine. Ace swallowed... maybe she wasn't there. Wherever she was, he hoped she wasn't watching this alone.

He leaned forward again, hands clasped between his knees as the proceedings continued.

"What do you think the verdict's gonna be?" He said, asking Lorn, eyes unflinching from the holo.

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

The chill radiating off Acier hit harder than the damp stone beneath them, and Lorn couldn't blame the kid for snapping. His joke had fallen flat, missing the raw nerve Ace was operating on. A quiet breath slipped past the Jedi's lips as he leaned his elbows onto his knees, keeping his gaze locked on the flickering blue light of the courtroom feed.

"I imagine he gets off free," Lorn admitted, his voice even and devoid of bitterness. "This Republic has too many people to answer to."

Experience had taught him how easily monsters slipped through the cracks of bureaucracy. He had little doubt these Sith would worm their way out of true consequences, much like Her before them. The law was a web, and men with power always found a way to tear through it.

Shifting slightly on the cold stone, Lorn glanced sideways at the quiet tension in the boy's jaw. "Have you heard from your friend?" he asked softly. "The Abrantes girl?"

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Outside the Room Where It Happened
Interacting with: Aurelian Veruna Verity Stuyveris Astra Sadow Lysander von Ascania
Items: x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x | x

One problem at a time.

Sibylla might have appreciated the sentiment considerably more had Aurelian bothered to explain precisely what this problem was.

She scarcely had time to question him before they were swept from the public galleries and into the judicial corridors, Aurelian moving with the confidence of a man who knew exactly where he intended to go. His credentials carried them past one checkpoint, then another, until even Sibylla began to realize they had ventured somewhere they most certainly should not be -- at least, not yet.

"What are you doing?" The hushed question barely escaped her before the doors opened. Sibylla followed half a step behind him, peering past his shoulder as he strode boldly into the conference room without a by your leave and Sibylla's face immediately blanched -- for there sat Senator Stuyveris, Lysander's counsel and Lysander himself.

And Aurelian, apparently inviting himself into their plea negotiations as though he had merely arrived late to dinner.

She caught her mouth before it fell open in shock, trying to keep her composure even as her eyes widened at the revelation.

What in Shiraya's name was he doing?

"Your Excellency." It was a familiar voice from farther down the corridor that snapped Sibylla's attention sharply to the right to catch Corde approaching her with a hurried pace.

Sibylla cast one last bewildered look into the conference room, an apologetic expression briefly crossing her heart-shaped face before she stepped backward. The doors slid shut between them, leaving Aurelian inside and Sibylla very firmly outside the room where, apparently, something was about to happen.

Her gaze lingered upon the double doors, unable to help the way a concerned frown pinched at her brow as unease went curling through her stomach.

This was why he had been behaving strangely earlier. Why he had seemed to have his mind elsewhere, talking about friends and having to stick his neck out. There was no opportunity to puzzle it out. Corde reached her, and one look at the woman's expression swept every question about Aurelian aside for a moment.

"What is wrong?"

Corde leaned close and murmured into her ear... and then Sibylla went utterly still.

Acier Moonbound and Knight Lorn Reingard had been accused of assisting in the escape of a dangerous Force User from a Jedi Order holding cell.

For several seconds, she could only stare at Corde. Then the implications struck one after another, and with Acier already a fugitive, this piled atop everything else. The twisted, acid-churning sensation swept over her stomach as it dropped and ever so slowly, Sibylla closed her eyes as she drew one sharp breath through her nose, jaw tightening until it ached.

Ace.

Of all the reckless, impossible, catastrophically ill-timed things he could have done...

Hazel eyes snapped open again, disbelief giving way to a flash of genuine anger as the repercussions and consequences of such an act in the midst of this trial would mean for the blasted man who had said he had wanted to make things right.

What the hell are you thinking?

There was now little time to worry about what Aurelian was about to do. And with a purse of her lips, Sibylla motioned for Corde to follow her. Aurelian could answer her later.

"Come. We need somewhere private. I want every detail of what happened."

~ Thread exit

 

[Srina Talon]

LOCATION: THE HIGH REPUBLIC HALL OF JUSTICE [Courtroom]
TAG: Verity Stuyveris - Astra Sadow - Lysander von Ascania - Corazona von Ascania - Acier Moonbound

The wintry woman remained as she was, still as stone, but her exterior seemed pristine. Most figured that a Sith would be grotesque, mutated from corruption, but the ugliness that the Empress held lingered on the inside. She passed for a concerned citizen, focused on the severity of the trial. Just like everyone else. Even in these Southern Systems, an Echani seemingly of noble birth was far from out of place. Her people, apparently, multiplied exponentially.

Her gaze drifted over the sibling of Lysander von Ascania , whom she recognized, and inevitably her thoughts turned to Acier Moonbound , who had masqueraded for quite some time beneath the banner of the Sith Covenant. She had known his truth because she had witnessed him in both settings but had never spoken of it. He was her nephew—But knowing his fate…

It was just as bad as Lysander.

Sith were rotten things. Her choices did not elevate her, but damned her, and left her forever scarred by the daily decisions she made. Often…She suspected that these younglings would think that she did not understand. They thought that she didn't know…But perhaps that was her folly for leaving the past where it was, or not being more available. Regardless…

Srina had tried it their way.

She did, know. But...The Light never changed, never listened, and crushed anything that didn't fit a predetermined mold. It wasn't even specific to the High Republic, but something she had witnessed time and time again over the decades. In the end…The pale creature didn't want her children to suffer the same inevitable damage that she had endured.

Sith were what they were.

They weren't pretty, merciful, or kind. They took what they wanted, needed, with fire and harsh hatred that ran deep enough to turn their blood black. They were liars, criminals, with a penchant for violence that bordered on the psychotic—But she knew what to expect. They did not promise warmth, the sun, then take it away.

They promised pain, power, and the consequences of seeking both.

The judge called for a recess, and many of the gawkers got up to stretch their legs, and the crowd thinned. She listened to the little pockets of conversation while her eyes fluttered down to her lap. The runes sewn into her clothing had stopped trembling while layer upon layer of delicate stitching held the truth of her being close to her skin. It left her…Unremarkable.

Elegant but dull…A painting, where the color had been washed out.

She could still feel the boy she had come to take home, even when he was no longer in proximity. The dampeners, annoying technology, made it so that he could receive her, but he could not easily reply. Not with words, anyway. His uncertainty had a weight that reached her in fragments that were difficult to distinguish from her own thoughts.

Home, Nightstar, the road leading…Somewhere. Then…

Fire.

Her fingers loosened on the armrest and the Hall of Justice burned before her eyes. Pristine walls blackened and windows burst outward before flame consumed all. Was that his intention for her? Was that what he would ask of her? Hellfire and brimstone? Wrath burned at the edge of her fingertips, waiting for the moment when Lysander would finally offer the truth she needed. To turn this beautiful hall into a bonfire, a grave, or let it keep operating as if she had never existed.

<<Home.>>
​

Her mind whispered, softly tugging, because time was running out. The Sith had given him something…Purpose, perhaps. People. Yet, something in him felt, to her, that he was turning away from what he had become. War was never pretty, never fair—And there would always be blood no matter who started it. Where was his sharpness, his faith, his purpose?

Srina refrained from his vision for the moment, and her eyes flickered toward the doors through which Lysander had disappeared. They would not execute him behind that door; it wasn't the way of the Republic. But they would decide his fate. Years, of his life.

Her runes held…But a thread began to darken. Her heart…It grew cold.

Another thread went out…And something moved in the Force so faintly that it might have been mistaken for a draft slipping beneath the doors. The temperature did not fall, but several people in random spots of the room rubbed absently at their arms to chase the chill away.

Her lips pressed thin, and her shoulders rose, slightly, before falling again.

In his mind's eye would see her there, seated, knowing…How difficult it was not to act. The sensation of her memories would press against him. The reason she was so averse to leaving him in the hands of people who typically wanted to see Sith locked away for eternity or strung up and gutted like cattle. It all depended on which level of zealotry he fell victim to. Lysander would feel the ache it left her with, accompanied by something that was dangerously close to melancholy. Some version of this day asked her to give up something…Dear.

Even though he sent her flames…She knew him, the inquisitive scholar, the accomplished diplomat, the protector, the powerful, the dangerous, the murderer—Far more than she let on.

For him…She sighed. Almost, sounding as if she were in pain.

<<…I will wait…>>

 

[Persephone Dashiell]

Persephone raised an eyebrow. Mauve du Vain hadn't spoke. Didn't acknowledge her words. Interesting.

Zee had been forced to wait outside the courtroom so she couldn't ask her droid directly if Mauve was catatonic. Seemed that way. Or just focused on the situation. Did du Vain have the Force? Maybe she was lost in one of their weird trances.

"See you back at the gallery."

Grabbing her things, she walked out of the courtroom, meeting Zee outside the door. Her droid fell in place on her left side, walking just a half-step behind.

[ Where are we going Miss Persephone? ]

"I'm in no rush to head back to Nar Shadda. Horrific place. Let's go get a drink, got to have good bars around here with all this legalese occuring daily."

[ You think he will be released? ] Zee had been following on a HoloNet feed.

"Of course. I'll bet you a hundred credits the royal family on his backwater planet paid to get a sweetheart deal."

[ Do they have enough credits on that planet for such a thing? ]

"Probably flipped every couch cushion on the planet to get their precious murderous heir released."

[ Murder seems to a family trait. ]

"Doesn't it?"

THREAD EXIT

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: D'Qar

Equipment:
Vanguard Robes | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm | Tic

Ace's gaze remained fixed on the courtroom feed until he heard the words "gets off free" from the older Jedi.

His eyes shifted sidelong toward Lorn. "Not much different from me then."

There wasn't any real bite behind the words. Ace wasn't trying to pick a fight, nor was he pretending that his circumstances and Lysander's were exactly the same. But there was a reminder buried beneath them all the same.

Whatever Lorn thought about powerful people slipping through the cracks of the Republic's justice system, Ace was sitting beside him because Lorn had personally pulled him through one. Ace had surrendered and accepted imprisonment with whatever sentence eventually came his way. Then Lorn decided otherwise.

His attention returned to the blue projection without pressing the point any further. Lorn was smart enough to understand what he meant.

The next question caught him more off guard. Ace's shoulders lowered as a long breath escaped through his nose.

"No. Not since I joined up with you. Can only imagine how pissed she's gonna be after she finds out what we did at Shiraya's Sanctuary."

It was becoming a pattern. Every time he thought he might finally be giving Sibylla a reason to believe there was still something worth believing in, he found another way to disappoint her. Dathomir. The Covenant. Everything he'd admitted to her while sitting behind those dampeners. Now this.

Another reason for her to look at him and wonder whether she'd been wrong to ever have faith in him at all.

The feed swept across the gallery again. Ace barely paid attention at first until one face stopped him cold. Fatine. His eyes found her immediately, sitting beside Cora.

Something tightened painfully in his chest. For a moment, the courtroom, Lorn, and the distant sounds around them disappeared. Even Lysander's trial faded into the background as Ace stared at the flickering image of her.

He'd expected her to be there, but he hadn't expected the feelings that came with seeing her. His expression softened before he could stop it, whatever guardedness had settled over his features quietly fell away.

And with it went his control as the Force stirred around him. A wave of sadness slipped outward before Ace even realized he'd let it escape, threaded through with an aching, unmistakable yearning.

His dark eyes remained fixed on Fatine, watching her as though everyone else in the gallery had ceased to exist.

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Verity Stuyveris | Astra Sadow | Lysander von Ascania | Srina Talon

A quick backward glance revealed Sibylla slipping quietly away toward the perimeter, leaving Aurelian without his usual tempering force. An amused smirk touched his lips. There would be no political restraint for this meeting then. He chuckled openly as Verity attempted to bark her order, catching her sharp shift in demeanor the second she recognized him. This was his conference room after all.

"You are feisty today," he laughed, shutting the door behind himself and taking a seat at the end of the long table with practiced ease.

Leaning back, his gaze swept across the room, lingering on the opposing legal team before settling on the defendant. The high-stakes tension in the air only fed his appetite for the game.

"He is a member of one of the Great Houses of the Republic, is he not?" Aurelian said, resting his arms on the wooden surface. "I am here to speak on their behalf. Quite frankly, it seems like both sides could use a little help navigating this."

He turned his focus directly to Astra and Lysander, a sharp glint in his amber eyes.

"So, what sort of plea are you seeking?" he asked smoothly.

​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

The sudden spike of grief and longing in the Force washed over Lorn like a cold current. He didn't need to look at the blue glow of the holo to know what had drawn Ace's focus. The kid was drowning in his own regrets, carrying burdens far too heavy for shoulders that young.

"You could just reach out," Lorn suggested quietly, his voice a steady rumble against the hum of the projector. "See what she has to say. Hearing it straight from you might beat letting her fill in the blanks." A faint, self-deprecating grimace touched his lips. "Though it's probably best if I sit that meeting out. Pretty sure she wouldn't appreciate my role in our recent actions."

Groaning, the veteran Guardian pushed off his knees to stand. His boots hit the floor with a heavy thud as his spine popped, every aching muscle reminding him of the long miles behind them. He paused, looking down at the quiet intensity in Ace's face.

"It'll work out," Lorn said softly, clapping a heavy hand onto the boy's shoulder. "Just trust the Force."

Turning toward the exit, he cast a final glance back at the glowing blue courtroom. "Let me know how the trial turns out."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

CC: Sophelia Ardemark Acier Moonbound Lysander von Ascania

So lost in the churn of her own grief and disquiet, Cora did not notice Sophelia's growing unease until the young woman stood and announced her departure.

"Oh," she said softly. Her hand reached for Sophelia's, giving it a gentle squeeze of reassurance before falling away. She managed a small, muted smile. "Take what time you need, my dear."

Everyone talked about the pain of war and loss. No one ever talked about the pain of waiting. It was a particular sort of discomfort, one that slipped under your skin and crawled along every nerve like thousands of tiny unwelcome guests.

As Sophelia left, Fatine returned from the restroom. She slipped beside Cora and began to lazily adjust her jeweled rings. Silence carried on between the sisters, punctuated by the murmur of ambient conversation around them.

"He's…he's not a bad guy, Cora," Fatine said at last. Her voice was quiet and subdued. Such a contrast from her usual projection.

Cora kept her eyes steadied on the door their brother had disappeared through. Fatine's breath smelled suspiciously of cotton candy and chemicals, but that was filed away as something to address later. If at all. If ever.

The younger of the two slouched back in her seat, dark curls thrown over the pew's backrest. She squinted up at one of the light fixtures. "Can they even prove that he did all that stuff?" she asked. "Like, would he have to confess to it?"

Cora let out a brusque breath as she smoothed her palms over the crown of her hair. Neat, immaculate. Everything she did not feel inside.

"I don't know," she confessed. "I suspect we won't know until they finish their conversation."

Oh, and how she was dying to know what was taking place in that quiet room to the side. Lysander in jail hurt, because despite the distance and his deeds, she couldn't find it in her to love him an ounce less.

Lysander going free also hurt, because a lack of accountability wouldn't truly help him.

Profound helplessness aside, Cora finally let her gaze leave the conference room's closed door. It fell on Fatine instead.

For all the betrayal she might've suffered, Fatine had taken two losses. First Acier, and now her brother. Suddenly, Cora felt guilty for thinking of only her own woes. Lysander's capture had sent ripples through the galaxy, but nowhere was it felt more acutely than among his siblings.

"Hey," she said softly, reaching for one of Fatine's hands. "You okay?"

Fatine's bejeweled hand caught the light, stones glittering at the slightest of movements. A sudden shudder trawled through her, cold air racing along tanned skin before fading away as eerily as it had come on.

She rubbed the back of her neck and sighed.

"Yeah," the younger sister answered, half-hearted. She laced her fingers with Cora's and squeezed. "Just wish none of had ever have happened in the first place."

 

[Astra Sadow]

Astra regarded Aurelian Veruna as the man spoke, and glanced back over at Verity Stuyveris . When the King of Naboo inquired as to the state of their proceedings, she devoted her full attention to the man.

"My Client maintains their innocence in these proceedings, which the Prosecution finds an intolerable position." There was a brief pause for a smile of acknowledgement or mirth. "However, in the interest of reaching an accord all parties can live with," her golden gaze turned briefly to Lysander von Ascania , "I request a moment with my Client." It would be simple to say they wanted no time served, but Verity wouldn't accept that. It'd be the perfect excuse to scuttle any attempt at negotiation -- as she'd been on the verge of doing before Aurelian's timely entrance.

If either Verity or Aurelian chose not to read into the obvious implication, Astra added, "Alone." This would be where Astra was supposed to convince her client to give up any hope of evading the Long Arm of the Law and to serve out his time under the Generous Terms of Verity's Plea Deal. Whether she intended to actually do anything of the sort they would never know. Astra did need to know Lysander's thoughts, however, without the Prosecution hearing something else that'd only seal his fate.

Srina Talon​

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

LOCATION

THE HIGH REPUBLIC HALL OF JUSTICE

CORRIDOR & LOBBY

MORNING

♫ TENNYSON — THOMAS NEWMAN

x

x

Verity was already moving by the time Ms. Sadow had reached the end of her first request, and her addendum earned a rather bored-sounding, "Yes, Ms. Sadow, we all know what you meant." She went to the door, held it open, and jerked her head at the second and third chair attorneys, who quickened their step to follow her out. She let the door shut, heedless of whether Aurelian Veruna was following or not. It would butter plenty of Verity Stuyveris' parsnips if that velvet-upholstered jackass caught a face full of mahogany for his misdeeds this day.

Once in the hallway, though, something seemed distinctly amiss.

The explanation for how Veruna had foisted himself on the negotiations was apparent when Verity realized that the security personnel who had escorted the parties there were nowhere to be seen. "Where..." she began, turning first one way, then the other. At one end of the corridor was a dead end wall featuring a brass relief of some ancient Naboo goddess of justice or wisdom or civic virtue -- who knew with these provincials? -- while the other led back toward the foyer for Courtroom 2.

"With me," she snapped at her team. She reached the foyer and the security guards weren't there, either. The attorneys behind her were perplexed. One wondered whether they should be leaving His Majesty alone with the defendant. "At this point I am beyond caring what that rococo monument to avoidable consequences does." She paused a beat, venturing further into the foyer. "Where is court security? What is happening here?"

She stalked further, into the public lobby of the courthouse, glacial eyes scanning. The security seemed to be well-represented there, at least.

How very strange, Verity thought. Security hadn't disappeared from the courthouse. Just from the wing and the corridors where a dangerous Sith on trial was left behind. Something didn't sit right with her.

Not at all.

x

x

WITH

Lysander von Ascania • Astra Sadow • Srina Talon • Aurelian Veruna

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow Srina Talon Aurelian Veruna Verity Stuyveris Corazona von Ascania
​

That familiar Dark wove itself through his bloodstream, tainting every artery it passed through. Predictable but no less suffocating for its constancy. Coldness became a state of being. Lysander was certain the Empress would not retreat. The vision of the courthouse engulfed in flames, horrifying and immaculate, lodged itself behind his eyes and refused to fade, like a frame around everything that followed.

Prison cells filtered into view; they were so cramped a man couldn't stand tall. The jeer of a faceless mob. Somewhere in the distance, a Sith toppled. Perhaps that last part was his own embellishment, a desperate mind filling in horrors.. but the dread it provoked was unmistakable.

His throat tightened violently as he drew in air. There existed the absurd urge to avert the gaze from someone who was not physically present at all. To be perceived so completely was to feel a phantom hand laid over the mind, with fingers turning over every facet.

Twenty years. Another number in the back of his mind, too. And a tracker.. that was not a term; this was a line drawn in red across everything he was.

Briefly, his focus shifted to the Republic's monarch. Given their history and everything that had been said and unsaid, he prepared for sharper barbs. Noble Houses should've meant history, sigils, old oaths, though none of it kindled his loyalties. Even the suggestion murmured that softness could be the sharpest trick of all, that deceit thrived on both sides of the Blackwall.

When the woman beside him spoke again, others began to leave, but his attention never followed them out. Lysander stayed with Astra. "So what happens if there isn't a deal I can live with?" The question left. He flexed his wrists against the binders. Then, softer, "If that's the case I need you to understand what position that puts me in. And Astra, know that I do not undervalue your diligence." A pale substitute, those words, for the rise in his estimation of her.

What met her was a reflection of liquid fire itself. "I say this now so there's no mistaking my position. If we can't find another way forward together, there will be no path left for me."

While her reply would find its way back to him on whatever wind carried such things, more pieces of the greater puzzle would thread back to Lady Talon. The archives within the Sepulchral complex on Jutrand. Brosi, undomesticated, the planet breathing wild beneath him. Coruscant, which he did not love and could not shed. Amid the haze of war, a violet Togruta emerged. Tsis'Kaar banners snapped overhead as Lysander stood shoulder to shoulder alongside Darth Malum of House Marr .

The road from earlier finally returned. Nightstar waited where he left it, faithful as ever. He slowly turned away from what the horizon promised. His hand lowered toward the hilt, fingers lacing around it one by one, until the grip was complete. The blade rose into the air, catching the dying light.

​

 

[Astra Sadow]

Astra turned to regard Lysander after the door shut and he spoke up. "What is a deal you can live with, Lysander? I'm operating on the basis of preventing them finding you guilty, but if you're prepared to suffer some humiliation to appease that Prosecutor then I'm listening. There's a chance they can get something to stick. Any of your activities been inside Republic space? Harmed Republic citizens?"

"That woman looks out for blood." Astra smirked. "She'll take an offer of serving no time as an insult. I could bribe that King -- find some kind of service, perhaps. He's a practical soul," she offered without reservation. What? Oh, her Legal obligations? No, Astra didn't care about that. What was a little crime to get the outcome they wanted? Precisely the thing that had Verity worried about the identities of the jurors earlier.

If Lysander hoped to get out of this a free man... well, it wasn't impossible. Astra could certainly pull out all the stops in an effort to make it happen, but he wouldn't know if it worked until the conclusion of the trial. Perhaps she should begin planning to influence the judge? Verity didn't seem the type to roll over no matter what threats were levied.

Lysander von Ascania | Srina Talon
Aurelian Veruna | Verity Stuyveris | Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Srina Talon]

LOCATION: THE HIGH REPUBLIC HALL OF JUSTICE [Courtroom]
TAG: Verity Stuyveris - Astra Sadow - Lysander von Ascania - Corazona von Ascania - Acier Moonbound

The Empress of the 11th Sith Empire had promised to wait. So, she did. Even when every instinct demanded otherwise, the snow-pale Echani remained in the gallery while the minutes drew thin and her patience even thinner. She listened to strangers' whispers about the unorthodox turn the trial had taken with the interruption of what she could only assume to be Nabooian Nobility. She did not know his face, though the name did ignite something cruel beneath her breastbone. Not for Lysander or Acier…

For her eldest daughter.

The ivory-haired creature focused on doors that refused to open and let the delicate runes woven through her robes carry the impossible weight of everything she kept contained. It felt like she had been waiting hours, days, but then something changed. Most wouldn't have noticed it, but security had lessened. Perhaps a shift change?

It was then that she distantly heard Astra Sadow ask to speak to her client alone, and opportunity presented itself. The Empress bent the Force around her, naturally, pressing her visage into nothingness so slowly that it would feel as if she had never existed. She didn't just fold space and wink out of existence or draw on massive amounts of power. It was as subtle as a sleight of hand trick during cards… She had just never been there at all.

The illusion of her presence eventually ceased, and the same pale figure appeared soundlessly within the sealed conference room. If anyone did remember her by some miracle, they would also see her walking out, stretching her legs, just like everyone else.

The silvery woman appeared behind Astra and Lysander. Ivory clothing, sacrilegious, with moonlit hair and silver eyes that slowly bled mercurial gold. The air seemed a bit heavier and the room smaller. As if something vast had been trapped within four walls and folded impossibly small. Her gaze fell to Astra Sadow first, and her head inclined in greeting, before those same eyes fell to Lysander von Ascania in equal measure.

"When we spoke in the archives…You stood so proud. What has made you this small?"

There was no cruelty or mockery in the question she posed. It would seem almost like she was addressing a patient in a medical ward, gently, probing for symptoms of some greater disease. His uncertainty lived and breathed with a life of its own, and that did not reflect the young man that she had once encountered on Brosi. "Surrendering to the Light…It is not wise."

Once again…Srina did not pretend that he was innocent by any standard of morality. She would not insult his intelligence. There were legions of dead who could not be restored by remorse or service, with wounds that would remain whether he served one year or fifty. There was no scale in the galaxy powerful enough to make those things balance, and no matter how he suffered in reverse—The Republic would never grant absolution.

To forgive and empower a former mass murderer? It was against all they believed in, even if they pretended that wasn't the case. He would be a dog for their boot, a blight at their table.

Her hand rose, and slender fingers brushed against his jaw for a moment…Softly trying to say what she needed to with the time they had. "I would take my leave of this place..."

"And I would prefer it if I did not leave alone. I will take you home regardless of the cost…If it is what you wish."

She sighed softly, and her eyes closed…Knowing that particular wavering in his chest. Few remembered or cared about her history, but there had once been a time when she would have laid down her life to protect this planet. Its people. She knew the guilt and every instinct he had to recoil from the darkness that clung to his soul—But it did not change the truth of what they were.

Of what they had done—Of what they would do. A wolf in sheepskin was still a wolf.

There was something terribly quiet in the way she regarded Lysander. She could remember believing as he did now. That if one hurt enough, sacrificed enough, surrendered enough of themselves to something better…Eventually, the darkness would loosen its hold.

It was an attractive lie.

"But you must choose."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Astra Sadow Srina Talon Corazona von Ascania Verity Stuyveris Aurelian Veruna
​

Lysander did not answer right away; he sat with his forearms on the table. It was strange, this hesitation that dared to hollow him. Weeks since Jakku taught him how to dwell in silence. Time in transit, endless thoughts like vultures circling a carcass. Now that everything demanded an answer, his mind drifted back to all those unanswered questions carried across hyperspace.

"I'm not prepared to trade in my dignity. I don't care to stand before an open court and perform remorse to satisfy anyone. I have remorse. It belongs to me, not to the prosecution or the press." Her last question, however, arrested him more thoroughly than the others. At last, he leaned forward, focused fixed on a spot near the door before he answered, "Edic Bar."

The admission scarcely found breath before the conference room seemed to shift. Behind them, the Empress bled into being.. regality coalescing from air into flesh. The younger Sith's chin lifted, spine unfurling with grace until the chair he nearly vanished into was filled. Lysander refused to diminish beneath her sight.

"I wasn't giving up. I needed to know if there was another way to live. If I could actually walk away from this by choice, rather than staying because it was the only life I knew."

Maybe this was the point all along. Titles peeled, and with them the lie that his choices rippled no further than himself. Liberation was not always an act of gaining. Sometimes it required cutting away, excavating every personal truth until no mask remained to hide behind.

"I spent too many cycles trying to contort myself into something my family could stomach. Something they could look at without asking what had become of me. I had it entirely backward. I tried to shrink myself to fit their mold, when I should have realized I was never meant to fit it." Of course, he was still working through some of that, examining the thought from more angles, but this much already settled into something he knew to be true. Tracing the swell of his own breath, he admitted, "There was doubt in me, yes... but, there was never surrender. Now I know exactly what I am. I've come to accept there will never be a place for someone like me within the Light."

Beneath the brush of her fingers, a muscle feathered along his jawline. His eyes dropped to the table. Grim reflections churned in the mind that'd seen too much in too short a span. Knowing that Cora sat somewhere beyond these walls, in the gallery, watching, waiting, carved a cruel ache. The emptiness of this silence dug deeper than anything else, for the binders severed even a brush of reassurance through a thread that belonged sibling to sibling.

Attention caught and held upon Astra, before inevitably dragging back to the pale serenity of Srina. Lips parted, then pressed together, and when he spoke his voice was softer, "I've made my choice. Take me home, Lady Talon." Through their bond, images tumbled forth. A condo on Byss. A vacant home on Shoengen upon Brosi. And then.. the Throneworld, a place that would demand answers soon.

"And you're coming with us, Astra." The woman had entered this viper's nest as counsel, as shield at his side, so abandoning her here as scapegoat for his sins was unthinkable. Perhaps pack mentality snarled there, or perhaps something else.. but the result stood the same.

Palms came to rest flat upon the table, fingers splayed; the need to have those binders removed was almost animal.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Verity Stuyveris | Lysander von Ascania | Astra Sadow | Srina Talon

A smug expression settled on Aurelian's face as his gaze moved back and forth between the defense team and the prosecutor. Astra's request for privacy drew a slight nod of approval from him.

"I think that wise," Aurelian said, standing up promptly. He reached the door just as Verity pulled it open, slipping through the exit before she could rudely shut him inside.

Scanning the corridor, he noticed Sibylla was noticeably absent from the hallway. Good; she was out of immediate harm's way. Tona swarmed him from the shadows, her eyes knowing, and handed him a slim datapad.

"He doesn't plan on going to prison," Aurelian murmured, his fingers tapping across the screen to review the active schematics. "I can see it in his eyes."

The display showed an emergency evacuation system and a silent alarm primed to trigger. He activated it. Handing the datapad back with a subtle nod, he knew Tona would understand the implicit order to locate Sibylla and secure her safety.

They split directions, and Aurelian set off after the prosecutor. Shiraya, that Guarlara walked fast. He had to double time his pace just to catch up to her retreating figure. Reaching out, he firmly grasped Verity's arm and dragged her straight into an adjacent small conference room, ignoring her immediate protest.

Her legal team scrambled inside behind them, and Aurelian promptly locked the door. He threw a small holoprojector onto the middle of the table, illuminating a live blue feed of the room they had just vacated. The projection revealed a sudden appearance, capturing Lysander in all of his glory.

​