The Sentence

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The crime had been an unconventional one.

She'd been thrown into the nearest prison for the night, though the Archlord's hand had reached out to serve as a savior of sorts after hearing of the situation. Most people would have been given the pardon after a time given the circumstances - the case of this woman just made it so that news of her capture reached Cedric's ears sooner. A missive had been sent for the girl, and she would have found herself escorted to his office atop one of Ession's larger skyscrapers.

It was here that Cedric Grayson awaited her.

The office itself was sparsely furnished, its only key feature being the massive window that served as a portal to all of Ession below. The cityscape spread as far as the eye could see, and one could make out a million tiny light twinkling off into the distance.

Night had fallen over the capital of the Dominion, which suited Cedric better. He enjoyed doing his business during the hours in which the sun was hidden behind the stars.

Clad in a simple hooded jacket, Cedric awaited his companion for the evening. Stark gray eyes peered out at the door, ever patient.

 

[Atrina]

Atrina walked slowly through the halls as her escorts guided her. They were either unaware that she wasn't blind or making certain she did not stray. Truth be told, it was unlikely that many more of them could hold her against her will, though she wasn't certain they wanted to. It was a surprisingly quick holding period, relative to the other times Atrina had been remanded into custody for similar things. She'd been read her charges that night; reckless use of a weapon, destruction of property, assault with a deadly weapon, and false imprisonment(which was dropped after they read out the warrant she had provided).

"This way miss." The hall turned a corner, and her escorts pointed the way. Perhaps they were aware she wasn't blind after all.

Atrina entered the office presented to her, and curtsied. She was aware of the man seated before her and he felt... strangely good. She was expecting more a neutral or perhaps more evil than this - maybe some sort of backlash for collecting the bounty on one of the system's best drug pushers. "To whom do I owe the honor of releasing me?"

 

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Cedric had only come across two Miraluka in his life.

The first had been his great grandmother, whom had been been the source of more than a few troubles for his family. The old woman had claimed to be looking to preserve the sanctity of the Jedi Order, and had taken to imprisoning those that disagreed with her doctrines to do so. Needless to say, she'd been dealt with accordingly. The eldest of the Grayson line was interred within a home designed to keep her from hurting anyone else, where she passed away peacefully.

The second had been a whore, and Cedric had not given her the time of day.

"You can call me Cedric," His voice was like a river running over a mass of boulders. The youth gestured with a wave of his hand, and the guards left them. Alone with this stranger, some of Cedric's guard melted away. He drew back his cowl, revealing a youthful face with the eyes of an older, wiser man. His features were patrician in nature, and his hair was a mop of black cropped close to his scalp.

All in all, he looked about as regal as his line truly was.

"I read over what happened. Decided I wanted to see you for myself," he paused, eyes narrowing as he appraised his visitor. "I like the blindfold, it's pretty in its simplicity. Some Miraluka adopt these gaudy things laced with gold that just hurt the eyes," his nose wrinkled with distaste. "Anyway, yes, I am Cedric and you are Miss [member="Atrina"] according to this document."
A short pause followed.

"Would you like to explain to me what happened, coming from you rather than a piece of paper?"

 

[Atrina]

Atrina grinned. Not many paid mind to the garb taken up to cover the missing eyes of the miraluka. She waited for Cedric to finish speaking before moving forward some. Was he trying to garner her trust by sending the guards away? Or, maybe as more of a formality. Atrina was, however, slowly coming to the realization that Cedric was not simply a man with power over others, he had power himself. A fellow jedi would certainly be a welcome presence.

"There are many species in our galaxy that claim that the eyes are a window into the soul. How a person looks at your determines their truest emotions. To be honest with you, you have it backwards; I choose not to add jewels and lace simply out of necessity. To us, these covers are used as another bit of fashion, no different than the way noble ladies of humankind contort their hair into various buns and braids. I'm a functional lady, though that isn't to say I haven't played a bit of dress up before."

Atrina made her way to the front of Cedric's desk, looking out through the window and past the man himself. "Earlier this evening, I tracked down one of the lesser known drug smugglers that had been illegally moving spice, Darric S'sartin. He was looking to make another deal with a seller of his, and I was going to arrest him."

Atrina sighed and moved her gaze down to the man in front of her. "Things got messy. The police force must have heard something and made too much noise on the way in. In the ensuing chase, I might have used a little excessive force. But no one else was injured, that I can guarantee."

 

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"Oh, I have no doubt you can dress to impress when you want to Miss Atrina," the words hung there for a moment, though their intent was anyone's guess. "I'd say something more along the lines of human women wearing low cut dresses and showing as much skin as possible as opposed to actual accessories, but then that would not be gentlemanly." With a wave of his hand, a droid floating upon three cylinders hovered quietly into the room. The droid offered two glasses filled with liquid that was so blue it might have been neon.

Cedric took one for himself, brought it up to his lips, and smiled.

"Thank you. Would you like one Miss Atrina? It's Balmoraan Bluesky; a core world delicacy that I have shipped out for myself when I'm wanting to feel classy. Only slightly alcoholic." He waved his glass around, as if in invitation, and grinned.

His was warm and full of mirth.

"So you played the vigilante? I can understand the reasoning. These worlds have been lawless for many years, but I assure you they are well policed as of late." He drew the glass back up to his lips, "I would ask that you at least inform the PDF about what you're planning on doing first. We have many Jedi with us now, and they would understand. I hear many of them wish to reform the order," the glass tinked as it was set on the table.

"Either way, you did a good thing, and I won't have you punished for that." The Archlord rose from his chair, eyes folding behind the small of his back as he turned to regard the city beyond. "Anything that keeps things clean is something I can approve it. It's a lot of city to govern, and I would be a fool to deny help."

[member="Atrina"]

 

[Atrina]

Atrina grinned and gingerly took the glass presented to her. She sipped the drink and immediately regretted doing so. She was never much of a drinker in the first place, and despite the low alcohol content, was taken aback by it's touch against her tongue and throat. That, and the fact that he just said there were other jedi was simply surprising. The last time she had spoken to another jedi was many years in the past by now.

"It was.. less vigilantism than you'd think. He had a bounty on his head from some slightly less illegal operations. Many of the drugs he moved are medicinal in nature, depending on the method. I assume there are some under the table dealings in organizations that mine or refine the stuff, but a bounty is a bounty, and the cause was righteous enough." Atrina took another sip of her drink, this time more accustomed to the flavor and content. There would, soon enough, be a ball of warmth in her stomach.

"Of course, I may need to deal with their less than legal operations soon enough, though the task is moot enough anyway. Senators and politicians can deal with big money. I am more interested to hear about these jedi of yours though. I haven't seen another of my persuasion in quite some time."

 

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"A woman has to make a living one way or another," he muttered with a slight shrug of his shoulders. He settled back into his seat and leaned back far into his chair, his arms folding about his chest as he observed this woman that had been brought before him. She carried herself like the shadows of old, though most of their sort were long since killed in the great war. Still, the remnants of their ilk did pop up now and again. It may not have been forthcoming to ask the woman about it now, but it was a question to stow away for later.

"So long as you weren't murdering anyone, I can't really fault you." He paused for a moment, lips pursing as she asked about the Jedi. A difficult question to answer, but one that most certainly required an answer nonetheless.

"A few dozen actually," he began, "Mostly defectors from the NJO. They left after the Jedi of the Galactic Alliance committed genocide on Atrisia in order to kill a handful of Sith," the Archlord's nose scrunched up with disdain. "The others joined up beforehand. It's a movement looking to restore the order of old; solve some of the problems plaguing the Jedi these days. More tolerance than zealotry."

A hand went for the glass once more. It wasn't often Cedric allowed himself to relax, let alone in the company of another person; a woman even less so. "They tolerate the Sith within the Dominion's borders because they do not break the law. It's a far cry from what the old Jedi Order has become: zealots looking to wipe out entire civilizations because a few Sith were involved."

He shook his head, the drink somewhat loosening his lips. "As for myself, I...serve as a sponsor of sorts. I run the Dominion as a whole, though the senate has the final say in matters. My father a Jedi Master that set forth the motions that destroyed the Sith's empire over Coruscant - I inherited his titles, so I suppose you could call me a Jedi, though in the older lording sense."

[member="Atrina"]

 

[Atrina]

Atrina set her glass on the desk. Clearly this ran deeper than her own former enclave. "This is news to me, I'll be honest with you. I do agree with the idea those jedi held - that the sith are inherently evil - but genocide is a few steps too far."

She finally sat, taking the chair that had been placed in front of Cedric's desk. There were many more concerning things hidden amongst the man's words. Sith, in arms reach from jedi, simply behaving? Such a thing was almost to insulting to understand. The sith had many ideals that were benign, of course, but it was the commitment and utilization of those ideals and codes that led those that follow the darkness down the path of evil. Atrina hoped that these sith were, at the very least, being carefully monitored.

"I will admit, however, that knowing there are 'well-behaved' sith, is a little unsettling to me. I don't believe that I have ever seen one I have liked."

 

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"You don't have to like them, but the reality is that most Sith are simply selfish people. The vast majority don't have the power or the influence to be a real threat unless you force them to be one. They make lovely workers, and they spill their blood for the Dominion just as much as any other volunteer." Cedric intoned, a hint of amusement lacing his words. There was always a certain joy to be taken in the explanation of the current situation.

"The Dark Side is a natural thing. You can't kill it, and people are always going to be drawn to it. If you accept them, they'll work with you and can be decent people. Some, of course, will be problems, but the majority are more along shades of gray than total darkness. Evil, after all, is an abstract and relative concept." The Archlord waggled a finger about as if that helped to accentuate his point. "To kill a man because he has a more selfish set of beliefs is evil in our sense of the word, no?"

A brow was quirked as he leaned forward, gray eyes peering into the folds of her blindfold. The glass was drained entirely, and the droid swiftly hovered within to replace it. ",Stick around and you might meet a few of them. Most are relatively decent people," a second glass was offered to Atrina. "Another?"

[member="Atrina"]

 

[Atrina]

Atrina's own thoughts were not coursing through her mind, though she felt as though they should be. Perhaps his view of things was perfectly rational, if simplified for conversation's sake. She supposed most of what he said was correct, and there were plenty of times she herself had committed acts not wholly endeared by the light. These were necessary things, of course, but to what end were the means justified? This certainly was a topic of debate.

Atrina waved her hand, using the force to levitate the glass towards her. Despite her career, she had never needed to quiet her mind with such things as drinking or deathsticks. But this was different, a debate - namely one against an objectively stronger argument - was cause for a drink indeed. "I will be frank, Cedric. You astound me, and yet we've only just met. Perhaps it is a result of my teachings, but I believe trusting a sith would be a difficult task to accomplish. However, you can expect me not to attack one outright, not without reason. I should hope the same of any of yours."

Atrina tapped her fingers on her thigh before grabbing the drink out of the air and taking a long sip. "Your Dominion, however, is still very intriguing to me. If one were to want to observe the goings on, what would you think they ought to do?"

 

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A brow was lofted as she called upon the drink with the force rather than with her fingers. To do so was a character trait in and of itself, and one that Cedric often watched for when dealing with those that bore the same gifts as his own. He lifted his glass up and tilted it in a mock toast, the smile he wore something between amused and curious. The tone of his voice reflected the state of his visage, and while he was respectfully silent when Atrina spoke, he did not hesitate to reply.

"That's a strong word you've chosen," he drew on another sip. The familiar tang of his favored drink reminded the Archlord of a youth lost to him far too early - it set him at ease in a way that few things ever could. "You're intelligent not to trust the Sith. I only trust them to a certain degree. There are different kinds of Sith, you see. Some are ambitious and want it all, others just want to be above the crowd. The latter you can work with. The former?"

His fingers crushed themselves into a fist.

"Well, they tend to cause problems. Those Sith either need to be taught the error of their ways, or dealt with. An unfortunate outcome, but one that can't be avoided." He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug.

"As for the Dominion," his smile returned. "Stand outside in the plaza during midday. See how people live their lives. Attend one of the senate meetings; anyone can. Maybe speak with some of our people, the Sith, the Mandalorians - we are made up of many cultures, and we're the only democratic nation in the galaxy."

Again, he raised his glass. "Not to mention that we've some of the most beautiful women this side of Coruscant...but that's just my preference."

[member="Atrina"]

 

[Atrina]

Atrina raised her glass to match Cedric's. She smiled in reply, her free hand pointing to her eyes, "I wouldn't know."

For the first time in at least some while, she laughed. Maybe alcohol wasn't that bad. "Though, if you understand it, most of the women on Coruscant looked fake to me. A fake city filled with fake people."

Atrina took another drink, her coordination wasn't yet failing her, which was good, probably. She did not want to become one of those fools, slurring words and tripping over their own feet. She felt comfortable enough with Cedric's views on the sith to not bother pushing the topic any further. He was willing to deal with troublemakers, and she assumed that went for the jedi as well. She kept a mental note to look deeper into this genocide ordeal and discover the truth on the matter.

"And besides women, what other fun should I find here? I'm no mercenary, but my skillset is mostly combat oriented. I do still have to make a living, food and startship fuel aren't as cheap as I'd like them to be."

 

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"A Miraluka can't appreciate the curves of a humanid form?" Cedric sounded aghast, though one could hear the smile in his words. "You poor souls. I wasn't aware. We'll have to work on developing another sense for that as soon as possible."

The words about Coruscant hung in silence for a moment. Having seen the world and its inhabitants in his earlier youth, the Archlord found himself agreeing with that sentiment. Since the fall of the One Sith, it had become overrun with corporations and lobbyists seeking only suck whatever credits they could of the population's pockets. Tensions had not yet begun to boil over, though the youth was rather certain that a great change would be coming soon enough.

"Fun's a choice word," Cedric mused as he finished his drink. He gestured for a third - the one that he intended to be his last - and leaned forward. "The Jedi offer their services to the Dominion. In return, we fund them as a government sponsored organization. If that isn't your speed, we host the bounty contracts you've come across, the crusade will pay well for another lightsaber, and DSB is always in need of infochants if the information game is more your speed."

[member="Atrina"]

 

[Atrina]

"Oh, we most certainly can identify shape, and even color to some extent," Atrina said finishing her second glass and reaching for her third.

"It's that that sensations a being gives off tend to be more of an indicator of how attractive they are for us. I can differentiate faces and blemishes to a degree, but it matters less than how they feel. Scent, however, is subjective and important."

Atrina felt comfortable enough. She relaxed, crossing her right leg over her left. There didn't seem to be any reason to worry about money or sith at least not immediately. It would be a nice change of pace to simply have a conversation with a friendly face.

Atrina looked at her drink before taking another gulp of the blue liquid. "Of course, we do still have standards. Some well-raised Hutt may have a heart of gold by some miracle, but I would be dead long before I were in its bed."

She chuckled, "I have an open mind, but not that wide."

 

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"I don't think a Hutt would find themselves with another Hutt." Cedric mused, his nose wrinkling up in distaste. Such thoughts about Hutts and species like them were...foreign to Cedric. Needless to say, Atrina's words both made him laugh and perhaps even gag a little.

"I've always found one's presence within the ethereal realm to be the most important. Perhaps it was because I was raised to recognize them so efficiently, but I feel like I can understand a person better once I've seen what kind of impression they leave in the greater make of things." He explained, his glass being left upon the desk as he began to pace near the window. His eyes peered out into the darkness of night; into the sea of lights that served as markers of civilization.

"This galaxy has known unending war for over a century now," he mused. "Trillions dead. The galactic population is almost half of what it was one hundred years ago. Such mass loss has never been recorded before on the galactic scale. Our world is tearing itself apart with war."

A quiet sigh fell from his lips. "That's what I seek to prevent. It's why we formed the Dominion in the first place. Our methods may have to be seen as harsh at times, but we are faced with an enemy unlike any other. That is why we let the Sith thrive within our borders. We simply need them."

He turned his head to eye his guest. "Them and everyone else we can find. People aren't having enough children to meet the rate of attrition. The Dominion's worlds thrive, but many others yet burn."

He paused, "So I suppose we'll see just how open your mind really is."

[member="Atrina"]

 

[Atrina]

These thoughts were sobering to Atrina. It had been a long time simce she had opened herself to the pain of the galaxy, to remember just how much death had occurred in such little time. She let it wash over her now, pulling back from the distractions she had been using to push onward in her exile.

Rather than sadness, she felt a smouldering fury, a righteous anger swelling beyond her perspective. She wanted to strike at evil as she did before, but with renewed vigor.

"You'll have my blade then, if you'll have me." Atrina stood, facing out rhe same window. She could see all the lives below dancing in the Force, breathing life itself into the air.

"I am convinced, your cause is noble if your methods are unconventional. I cannot say that I am without sin either."

Atrina sat back down. Despite her energy, she was still the lighest lightweight in the galaxy. She giggled a little at her self. "I am no frontline warrior, Cedric. I strike from the shadows. I'd feel much better with assignments than this freelancing business I've been doing, and I feel like I am not here by mistake."

 

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Rhetoric was something the young Archlord had always had a talent for. Be it with the written word, or those simply spoken. It was the kind of talent required of a leader, and fortunately one that the late Mephirium had passed down to his eldest son.

Cedric wasted no time in putting that talent to work now.

"Then I will find a place for you. The Jedi Shadows were a very useful component of the order in the past. Perhaps you can help them be so again," he mused, quirking a brow as he looked back at her. Already she was giggling along, evidently rather absorbed in the drink he'd provided.

He'd not intended such, but...

"No one is without sin Atrina," Cedric mused, "Not a soul in this galaxy. There is no such thing as the perfect person. Only the people that try." He paused, turning bodily to face her. "I think I might be able to hold my drinks a bit better than you can," he snickered, slinking back into his seat. "Is your home far? I won't send you off intoxicated alone. Not saying you must leave yet, of course, only asking before you might lose coherence."

[member="Atrina"]

 

[Atrina]

Atrina laughed, maybe a little harder than she meant to. Truthfully, she had been prepared to break out of custody had she needed to. "Uhh, no I'm not far."

She pressed a communicator hidden under her clothes, and a soft beep could be heard. "Nines, send the shuttle."

A second later, some excited beeps and whistles could be heard in reply. "No nines, just the shuttle. They let me out this time."

The communicator beeped again. "I tend to stay on the ship, Nines doesn't like to be left alone. Everyone tells me he's too agressive, but I think the offers of surgical strikes from orbit are his way of showing he cares."

Atrina stood and curtsied again, this time without the sarcasm as before. "I assume we shall meet again soon?"

 

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Cedric snorted.

"So long as you'll be safe. I plan to call the Jedi together here in two days. I do hope you'll be there," he paused, nodding toward his desk, "My comm information should have been sent to your own. You'll be able to contact me whenever you may need."

The Archlord bowed his head.

"Aggressive is just a fun word for love. Well, off the battlefield anyway," Cedric snickered. "We'll meet whenever you need to. I've preperations to make, but I am usually available when I am required. Don't be late for the meeting, Atrina."

[member="Atrina"]

 

[Atrina]

"Interesting choice of words." Atrina said as she walked to the window and pushed it open. She stepped up to the window ledge and turned around to face the man, holding the wall for support. She may have had a little to drink, but it would still take far more than that to completely kill her balance.

"I would never dream of being late," she claimed proudly, a smile on her face. She felt good again, in the company of good people she would undoubtedly grow to trust. Even if sith were involved, so were jedi, and at least one of them must have had some sense about them. She leaned backwards, allowing herself to fall slowly.

"Let's just hope my ride feels the same way!" She yelled, jumping slightly and curling into a back-flipping cannonball. Just below the vision of the window, a small shuttle cruised by, never stopping.

Anyone listening closely enough might have heard Atrina frantically yelling at Nines, "No! Power down the cannons! They're friends now damnit!"