Junction THE TRINITY AFFAIR | TSC & THR Junction of Commenor and New Plympto

[Verity Stuyveris]

​

If she wasn't so surprised, Verity would have been outraged. The outrage would come later -- a punishment in its own, because it was accompanied by the hard truth and deep shame that her outrage was entirely impotent. But in that moment, when the vile woman had the Senator pinned against the bulkhead, with Verity's heart hammering in her throat, it was only fear and surprise and a particular revulsion that came with being up-close-and-personal with the Sith's eldritch arm.

Verity would be impressed with herself, later, that she managed -- albeit after a delay caused by shock -- to bring her carbine up under Mercy's chin. But she could not force herself to name an ultimatum like put me down or I'll blow your ugly face all over this fucking corridor or is your stupid arm faster than a blaster bolt? because fear gripped her so tightly. It was hot and cold, somehow, speeding up time and putting Verity in slow motion. It was probably good that she couldn't speak, because it was unlikely that the so-called Empress of the Core would appreciate being invited to fuck herself and the kaadu she rode in on.

And Verity Stuyveris would have hated being dragged down to the Sith's level. She was born better, and demanded more of herself.

And then it was over, and Verity dropped the gun as she clattered to the deck.

Verity's hand shook until she placed them flat on the deck, but her pulse continued to pound. She slowly raised her head, wary eyes tracing the beast's back. I'm going to have front-row tickets to your execution, she vowed to herself, her lip curling. Such an indignity would not go unpunished. Verity Stuyveris would not allow it. She would bide her time for now because that's how she got through the day, but she made a vow to herself that she would see Mercy suffer for her many crimes.

The Senator collected herself, took a deep breath, and pushed herself back to her feat, collecting the gun on the way up. Her fingers found the safety, switched it off. All the better to be prepared the next time the hound slipped the leash of her good sense.

Verity followed, keeping a slight distance between herself and Mercy, and blue eyes like shards of ice glaring at the back of the Sith's head.

Mercy​

 

[Mercy]

Verity Stuyveris

"Do let me know if you decide you are more useful to me dead, darling." Mercy said absently over her shoulder, as if the Sith Lord could reach out into her mind and pluck those pesky little treacherous thoughts straight out of it. But that couldn't be the case, because there was nothing in the records or dossiers to suggest that Mercy had access to mentalism.

Then again who knew what a monster like Mercy was truly capable of, especially with an arm like that.

She lit up another cigarette, the third one now, and drew from it deep.

It helped calm down her hunger, choking it down.

Verity had an idea, but she would never truly know how close she was to death in that moment. If she did she may have turned around and run away instead of sticking to the Sith Lord as she walked down the corridor.

"Blaster marks..." Mercy gestured towards one of the walls, blackened and scorched, which was difficult to see in the constant red flickering. "Seems the battle started here and ended where we came from." She talked like the moment before had not happened. And in truth for Mercy it was settled for now, because it was like having a snarling dog.

You put it back in its place and reminded it of the pecking order.

Then you moved on.

Anything else was beneath the owner.

"Trickle of blood here... its leading into the maintenance shaft..." Hands settled back on her hips as she studied that hole. It was like right out of a horror scene, but Mercy never really understood the point of horror movies.

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

​

Verity didn't answer.

It wasn't fear, exactly. That was a part of it, but it was small, like it always was.

The more she observed Mercy, the more she decided that Mercy resembled -- at her core -- one of the string of mediocre men she had dealt with over the course of her life. The bravado -- the sleaze dripping from sweethearts and darlings -- the easy violence that came when she mouthed off. It was all of a type. Verity would have liked to say she found it all so terribly dull, but since Mercy was not just one of the stupid, privileged men she had dealt with in university and since -- instead being a leader of a demented Sith death cult -- her behavior was tiresome but her power was terrifying.

The Senator crouched to investigate the blood on the ground, eyes tracing it to the maintenance shaft. After a moment, she stood and smoothed her trousers and looked over at Mercy, one golden eyebrow arching sharply, the unspoken question hanging between them -- because Verity Stuyveris refused to dignify The Mountain with words that were not, strictly speaking, required: Well, what are you waiting for?

Mercy​

 

[Liana Organa]

​

Gram Arranda - Vestra Tane​

"Oh. Nice to make your acquaintance," Liana replied dryly. Their security team kept their eyes trained on the Sith in the room, but as it was there was little they could do but wait in tension. Gram took the opportunity to try and host a conversation. Liana wasn't eager to entertain the notion, but perhaps it would be a chance for some much needed insight. Know thy enemy, as it went.

"Liana Organa. And it's our turf you're in, actually. Alderaan's." The ship had stopped just within the borders of their system. The princess stepped forward, feeling a sudden surge of bravado, "What was the plan here. Just kill everyone who shows up?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

OBJ | 2
Delvin jeth​

"Oh dear," Cora murmured. "Well, this isn't ideal."

After their disastrous attempt at diplomacy on Moorja, perhaps the sudden deployment of ray shielding was a blessing in disguise. Perhaps it would be the demise of everyone in this building – something she noted privately as one hot-headed Sith tried to charge their way through the barrier, only to be left a smoking husk of flesh on the ground.

Cora's gaze flicked back to the man standing before her, separated by a thin band of red light. Tall, with pale features. Milky, pupiless eyes. She didn't need to try and assess how many fingers he had on each hand in order to understand what he was: Arkanian.

Arkanians with their penchant for eugenic pursuits posed a particular problem where ethics were concerned. Add in the Force, and she might've just come upon a rather potent foe.

Maybe their separation was a good thing after all.

Cora resisted the urge to glare at Lysander von Ascania , felt some feet away, through the shielding. She kept her focus trained on the Arkanian.

"I don't suppose that this is another attempt at Sith trickery? If so," she glanced again to the fallen Lord, watching as his limbs twitched to some unseen rhythm. "It seems a poorly thought out one."

 

[Dominique Vexx]

The Denonite made a show of turning her head and sighing off to the left side. "So, you're a Believer. I suppose I should be thankful you aren't simply a silver-tongued devil here to waste time saying one thing while meaning the exact opposite. Though you aren't above trying to couch your position in a cloak of reasonableness, it seems."

Dominique stepped forward to claim a chair and settled herself in it at no great haste. An open hand gestured for Lysander von Ascania to take his comfortable place at the table once more in turn.

"Some may find this outrageous, but it isn't unheard of for a Sith Officer to conduct themselves properly in times like these. How else are they to gain the favor of enterprising men and women throughout the galaxy? Credits only cover up so much bad behavior, however. And, yes, despite this nearly chameleon-like ability to blend in when it suits then, invariably that 'second option' always raises its head: to join you the 'easy way' or the 'hard way.'"

"You can decry the economic, social, and military pressures a State may exert on its peers as potential parallels, but you cannot deny when the fields are level within a region there tends to be a great deal less violence. Almost as though people don't want to risk more than they're poised to gain."

Dominique smiled across at the man. "Which brings us back to the Sith, the Force, and... Black Walls." Why stop at lightsabers? "Some factions believe they possess a trump card that makes them an irresistible force free to act as it wills. The Sith Covenant wouldn't be such a group, would it?"

 

[Delvin jeth]

Corazona von Ascania

Delvin stood there assigned to watch a rather new sith lord during this mission a rather unintelligent and hot headed sith at that. As he watched the sith with cold calculating eyes as he ran into the ray shielding and drop to the floor smoking and twitching. "I didn't figure i would have to tell him not to run into ray shielding no tellingfor" delvin said.

As he looked at The jedi before him "I dont believe so although most who fall into the sith ideal are power hungry this might be a power play" delvin said plainly. As he studied the shield array and listened to the droid voice "or someone or something triggered this security system" delvin said standing there as he looked at her studied her appearance clinically. Before meeting her eyes "my name is delvin jeth" he said giving her a bow he was polite and curteous

 

[Arris Windrun]

Aurelian Veruna​

Arris, like her Sith compatriots, had boarded the Trinity incognito. She and the others waited on the other side of the stateroom for a sign that the Republic delegation had arrived. To the Covenant's luck, not only had they, but it was a grand entourage -- the Chancellor and the King of Naboo?

The doors slid open, and in she walked with a shit-eating grin. They were pack predators among the flock. Within moments, she stood face-to-face with Aurelian Veruna. A man she had met once before, back when she was a mere Black Sun enforcer. How the times had changed.

But before anything fun began, ray shields flickered into existence, and to her left, a fellow Sith tasted retaliation for his attempted violence. She looked down at his incapacitated body and scoffed, then back at Veruna with much of her earlier, self-satisfied expression washed by disappointment and confusion.

"Well, aren't you lucky, yeah?"

This was the first time they spoke to each other. That wasn't a luxury back then, when Arris was summoned onto the scene to deal with some manic whipid and his obsession with Zeltrons. At least, that was how she remembered the whole ordeal.

"Y'know, I'm almost tempted to try it anyway."

But as soon as she clenched her fist, the floor beneath her buzzed. A warning, not an activation. She relaxed her fingers and sighed.

 

[Jett Aurin]

Ives
​

In the bowels of the Trinity, where the violence of Jedi and Sith was safely ignored, Jett Aurin was none the wiser. She had stowed away in steerage on a forged ticket. Not terribly hard if you knew a thing or two about sneaking aboard civilian vessels, which she did. Her plan was to ride it out until Alderaan at least.

But the difference between plans, delusions, and wishful thinking was starting to become a venn diagram she found herself exceedingly at the center of.

First, it was the lights - they flashed from orange-white to faint red. The oxygen recyclers hissed as primary power switched to auxiliary. A single redundancy that made all the difference between life and death. Then, several of the bulkhead doors slammed shut, separating her from the worried lot she had been traveling with... it was a good idea to blend in with a crowd of refugees, or a large family at least, when you were a stowaway. She tried the whole pretend to be someone important routine once, but she lost a weeklong girlfriend that way.

She walked down a dark and empty hall until her boot stepped in something that made a splash. Jett looked down and saw that all-too-familiar body fluid.

The blood didn't just pool there. It streaked across the floor, likely in the direction of where the body was. Too much spilled, she reckoned, to be a wounded survivor, which made this discovery all the more concerning. She slowly backed away before bumping into someone. With a startled yelp, she turned around.

"Aaa!"

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Tamsin Starfall

"Surik's Blade!"

Master San Tekka lunged for the blast doors a second too late. He was plunged into darkness for a few moments before the burnt yellow glow of the Jedi's lightsaber bathed his immediate surroundings in soft radiance. The energy blade raised to cut a path free when he sensed a disturbance in the Force and heard the faint sound of muffled screams.

He was here on board to protect Lorn Reingard and Chancellor Dominique Vexx but both of them resented the implications of his presence so Zark had been maintaining a respectful distance. He regretted that decision in this moment. Cut off from the Republic diplomats in a strange and hostile environment. Not ideal.

The way his lightsaber reflected off the gold and white hues of his temple guard death mask in the dark was oddly beautiful. Both eye lenses glowed the same shade as Zark's weapon. His old armor was too damaged after confronting Zambrano on Moorja so the old man wore a simple Jedi tunic instead. He still felt naked without it.

Not enough time to cut through every blast door in his path so San Tekka looked for another way instead. He sensed a presence in the Force that felt wrong somehow. Instinct warned the Jedi that he was not alone.

"Show yourself, witch."

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

Theme: War Pigs
OBJ: Sabotage
Equipment: Twin Omens | Multi-Tool | Stars Enchained | Mind Crown | Wrist Lanvarok
Tags: Zark San Tekka

The War Machine was ever churning; it never stopped whirling. It held no definitive conclusion, unyielding. Yet so many kept fighting or tried to flee it for safe havens that did not exist. Politicians were the worst of the lot; they threw the mindless ants to slaughter. Hiding behind grand speeches of courage and sacrifice. Yet so few of them were willing to die by the sword they wanted others to pick up in their names.

Here the covenant was, taking out ritualist politicians that fed the God of slaughter eternally. His high priests that worshiped him like Naïve children. As darkness fell and the crimson sabers came to life all around the chamber bathing them all in a red glow. The witch looked on not in awe, but disappointment. Not in the covenant but in the fact the signal meant the supposed heroes of the Galaxy had arrived.

Jedi coming to save their benefactors, the politicians that worshiped slaughter blindly. She had hoped that maybe just this one time the Jedi would see what they were doing was wrong. See that they were just as wrong as the sith. She whispered to herself as her eyes flashed vibrant fiery orange.

"Time to feed slaughter."

She then moved from the dark corner she was laying in wait in as the shield doors slammed shut. Trapped now, she thought to herself walking through the darkness the glow of her eyes. Not to concerned with the jedi and sith clashing sabers sparks flying causing shadows to dance.

The small girl stopped in her tracks as someone called out. Called out to a witch, telling it to come hither. Like she was trying to hide herself, no it was just a consequence of being shorter than most people.

"Down here, Jidai." She remarked as her orange eyes side eyed the man. "Didn't realize this was a masquerade ball." Her voice cheeky but soft, as her head turned revealing her painted face. A smirk crossed the young girl's face.

"I will make you a deal, you and your friends surrender and I won't kill everyone on this boat." She eyed the Jedi before her, she already knew the answer. They would never take the easy way out.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Arris Windrun

Something had smelled wrong the moment the meeting began. While the diplomats droned on, Aurelian stood near the viewport, half listening, half watching the stars slide past the glass.

Then the doors opened and the Sith walked in. Of course.

He turned slowly, more annoyed than surprised. They fanned out like they owned the place. One of them stepped forward wearing a grin that suggested she already knew how this would end. Aurelian studied her face, searching his memory. Something about her tugged at a loose thread in his mind.

Before anyone could make a move, the generators kicked on. Ray shields slammed down across the room with a crackle of blue light. One overeager Sith lunged forward and immediately dropped to the floor, twitching before going still.

Aurelian blinked once. "Well," he thought, that's one way to open negotiations.

He folded his arms and glanced back at the woman in front of him as she scoffed at her fallen ally. Her earlier confidence had dulled into irritation. "Well, aren't you lucky, yeah?"

Aurelian tilted his head. "You know," he said calmly, "I wouldn't call being stuck in a room with you lunatics, particularly lucky."

Her voice stirred the memory harder now. Not the voice exactly. The attitude. The look of someone who enjoyed breaking things. Wielu. Right. The mess with Mauve. Or Quinn. Some cybernetic maniac with terrible aim and worse manners. And her standing behind it all like a very amused bodyguard.

He watched her fist tighten. The floor hummed in warning beneath her boots. Aurelian smiled wider. "You should try it," he said. "Maybe it'll work out better for you this time." She relaxed, annoyed. The system dimmed again.

He paced slowly within the edge of his ray shield, studying her with open curiosity now that the memory had clicked into place. "You've come a long way since the last time I saw you," he said. "Quite the chaos you've caused."

His eyes narrowed slightly. "Windrun, is it?"

Aurelian stopped, "So go on then," he said. "What's the grand plan here, genius?"

Inside, the question amused him more than it worried him. Because if this was the plan, he thought, glancing at the unconscious Sith on the floor, it's already going spectacularly.

​

 

[Caelian Tane]

ACT I -SURVIVE

Caelian is aboard the Trinity:
Coming here was an easy enough task, Just took a bit to unload all the supplies and items needed to get repairs underway

Caelian definitely wouldn't call himself any type of engineer but he learned at least a little bit in his solitude in the outer rim, So while everyone else was meeting with the Chandrilian government he was out handing out supplies and other things to crew members and fixing what he could,

And that's when he heard a big CLANG HISS as the doors closed and the lights went out and casted the room into darkness

"Hopefully that wasnt me-" he says as he ignites his Light Blue Lightsaber for some sense of light as he tries to find out what's going on..


Open to any SIth or Jedi on OBJECTIVE ONE​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Dominique Vexx​

A twitch of dissent touched Lysander's mouth. “Were I given to devilry, Chancellor, I daresay our discourse might take on an different tone altogether.”

Believer. A curious epithet, and surely ripe for interpretation.

By then, his head inclined before reclaiming his chair. Both forearms settled against the tabletop, fingers spread in openness. An olive branch of sorts in a chamber heavy with uncertainty. Words would unfold without opposition. After a slow breath, he shifted, adjusting the arrangement of thoughts in his mind.

The back of his neck prickled before something tugged at the corner of his attention. The Sith's gaze slid sideways, catching sight of Corazona von Ascania . The resemblance to his niece, Luciana, conjured another thought. One he could not follow right now.

His focus returned to the matter at hand. “Anyone involved in building governments inevitably believes in something. Without that common belief, progress across the galaxy would stall, and very little would ever get built. Commitment could be the more honest word you were searching for.”

“The ‘easy way or the hard way’ is not a Sith invention, nor some dark mantra. Every government eventually speaks this language. We only differ in presentation. Some prefer to dress their intentions in treaties and polite speeches, while others are more direct. When states understand the consequences clearly, they tend to avoid testing them.”

Lysander finally returned the smile. “Which, if I am hearing you correctly, is the principle you were outlining.”

A fingertip drifted slowly across the polished surface. “Every major power out there maintains advantages it would prefer its rivals not provoke. The Black Wall is one of those symbols in our era. I don’t believe it was created to win hearts or spark goodwill. No, it's about practicality."

Little elaboration was required. "It encourages caution.”

One shoulder leaned back into the seat. “Now I find myself curious. What interpretations of the Black Wall have reached the Republic? I admit, it fascinates me how different powers can stand before the same structure if you will, and perceive entirely different messages. Some see strength, others a threat. Then.. there are those who see something more complicated.”

 

[Dominique Vexx]

"Respectfully, I disagree on two counts."

"First," Dominique held up a lone finger, "that all governments speak the same language of ultimatums and differ only in presentation. The High Republic does not deliver ultimatums to those it wishes to induct into membership. We demonstrate value. Purpose. It is left to the people to decide in what manner they choose to engage with us. They are free to choose not to engage at all; unfortunate as that would be for all parties."

The Chancellor chuckled as her hand slowly fell back to the table. "If you think to bring up recent events involving the Confederation, just know that would be straying off topic and unrelated to the matter of membership." Well, the Corellian aspect was, but again that whole affair would be dreadful to a cohesive and well-organized discussion.

"Second," her other hand lifted with two fingers held up, "the Black Wall does not encourage caution. It was designed to keep as many people in as it was to keep them out. A means of control. Domination." Dominique's hand fell back atop her other hand upon the table. "I do not have to agree with it to understand why an Emperor would want such a thing. No doubt they tired of Jedi and democratic-government meddling as well."

"That said, I see it as having taken on a completely different purpose of late." The Chancellor paused to smile and regard the fetching if hard young man seated before her. "I see it as a fortress wall from which sorties are run believing those they harry are powerless to follow them back to the security of their camp. Not idle speculation. Simply a reasonable deduction given recent behavior in expanding their northern sectors." In a name: Moorja.

Both hands slowly spread open, palms up. "An easy mistake to make as few ever bothered to contemplate breaching that Wall. To do so would have invited the very conflict most seek to avoid. Why poke the Krayt Dragon, as it were? Of course, trump cards -- like Death Stars -- are only effective for so long. One's opponents that are capable of enduring a prolonged engagement have a nasty habit of adapting. Wouldn't you agree?"

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

The Trinity Affair: Objective One
Interacting with: Lorn Reingard Acier Moonbound
Open to TSC characters to interrupt at any time!

Experience had a way of sharpening one's habits, and recent events had ensured she no longer traveled without certain precautions close at hand. A quick tap against the slim device at her belt brought her personal shield generator to life. A faint wash of blue shimmered across her slender figure before settling into a steady, almost imperceptible glow that moved with her -- a quiet halo of protection that flickered softly with each motion.

The Voice of Naboo drew the compact ELG-3A blaster pistol into her right hand with practiced calm. YEt even so, when Knight Lorn Reingard moved past the fallen Royal Guards, Sibylla paused.

The sight of them stilled her for a moment.

They had stood watch outside her door scarcely minutes before.

She knelt beside them, her expression softening with quiet grief as she brushed a hand gently across each of their faces, closing their eyes with a small, respectful gesture. Naboo taught its people that dignity was owed even in death.

Only then did she rise.

"My friend?" Sibylla repeated, her hazel eyes lifting toward the Jedi with a flicker of puzzled curiosity. For a moment the noblewoman wondered if he spoke of another delegate aboard the Trinity.

It didn't take long to realize he had meant Acier Moonbound .

"Ace." her voice was a quiet whisper of confusion as well as alarm.

If he was here...

His debrief was enough to understand the situation. He hadn't provided an update to her since the last time they spoke. That was telling.

"Yes. It is." Siyblla replied, studying Acier as she took in the dark clothing, the tension in his posture, and the aura that radiated from him that even she, who wasn't touched by the Force, could tell.

He had sunk farther still.

Part of her was still upset with him. Another worried. Concern, frustration, and disappointment.

It all tumbled together and battled on which emotion would take control.

Luckily for Sibylla, she'd been practicing maintaining her composure for years. At least, in front of those who didn't know her well.

Eyes would flicker around them, taking in where they were and what they had to do next.

"How many?" she asked plainly.

"And if Covenant forces are truly aboard," she continued, her voice carrying the faintest hint of dry resolve, "I imagine it would be rather optimistic of us to assume they arrived alone." She added as she tightened her grip on the blaster, as she glanced between the two men.

"In which case," Sibylla finished, with the quiet practicality of someone already moving three steps ahead, "we must begin the unpleasant task of taking this ship back."

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Tamsin Starfall

She was just a girl.

"No deal."

She wore a death mask like his, only instead of cold duraplast this one was painted in vivid colors and disturbing imagery. Underneath his faceless veil the Jedi's expression was conflicted. Too young to fall against his blade and yet he could tell this one would not be redeemed by a few kind words. He sensed the foul magicks of her kind radiating from the Sith acolyte's presence.

"Lay down your weapons," San Tekka countered, "Or I will have no choice but to take them from you."

He raised the lightsaber's golden blade up high in a classic Djem So attack stance. It bathed Master Zark in radiance even as the light refracted off Tamsin casting strange foreboding shadows all around them. He felt ridiculous given her size, but the old man knew better than to underestimate an agent of the darkside. With a thought the shield gauntlet on his forearm hummed with power, still inactive for now but ready to be enabled at will.

"I'm afraid I can't allow you to harm any of the passengers."

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Ghruna

The moment the wall exploded open, Zaiya's entire nervous system did something that could best be described as interpretive panic. Because technically… yes… a warrior bursting out of a wall like a nightmare creature was surprising.

But also not surprising, because about half a second before it happened the Lovalla had already felt the emotional spike ripple through the Force like someone tossing a boulder into a still pond.

Which meant Zaiya had just enough time to think: Oh! Someone is about to do something extremely loud and aggressive -- and then the panel burst open!!!

"EEP!" The squeak left the Lovalla instantly in a loud chirp, sounding like a startled loth-cat. The dozen bracelets chimed wildly as both hands shot forward on pure instinct.

Anddd all of a sudden another brilliant white flash detonated from her palms, the light washing over the corridor like a tiny newborn star deciding it had opinions about personal space.

A second passed... then two.

What just...

Zaiya blinked rapidly, bioluminescent freckles rippling in startled waves of pale gold and pink across her skin as the shielding field hummed to life around them and the cheerful brass of Bobolo Baker's All-Bith Band began playing like the galaxy's most inappropriate elevator music.

Across from her stood the enormous snarling warrior blinking rapidly. Well.. Zaiya did tend to go for the non-lethal incapacitating methods...

Very large.
Very angry.
Very… very familiar looking??!!??

Zaiya's opal-blue eyes widened another fraction as realization tried to assemble itself inside her brain like a droid missing several key screws.

"Oh--!" The Lovalla gasped as she lifted one hand in a small apologetic wave.

"Oh ooooh I am so sorry, you just sort of--" her bangles once again gave a jingle as her fingers pointed vaguely at the now-open wall panel. "--came out of the wall."

A pause, but then her mottled spots pulsed a citrine amber sheepish, but sincere hue.

"I mean that is a very alarming entrance strategy."

 

[Vestra Tane]

​

Objective: Lockdown
Tags: Gram Arranda | Liana Organa

All around Vestra, her comrades and their would-be victims chattered on. Of particular note was Arris, who was trapped with...

The Sith barked out a laugh.

Good for her.

She'd have to wait, of course, and that was frustrating...but maybe killing the king would be cathartic for the Dark Horse.

Meanwhile - the child, Liana, was questioning her. She had some grit to her, at least. That was good. At least in Vestra's experience, defiance in the face of certain doom rendered said doom significantly less certain. Still, Liana seemed to be operating under a particular delusion, and so...

"Everything you can't defend is ours."

She wasn't gloating; it was stunningly obvious when Vestra was rubbing someone's face in it. This was matter of fact. Almost monotone. It was the challenge laid out since the first Exiles conquered Korriban; we take what we please. The Sith were jaws clamped around the Galaxy's throat, and if the Galaxy couldn't shake them off...well, that just proved the Sith right.

As for the old man...

She turned to face him, and her eyes simmered with orange fire. When she grinned, the lump of scar tissue on her cheek made the expression stiff and ugly.

"Because mommy didn't hug me enough. Is that what you wanna hear, Gram?"

 

[Ayumi Pallopides]

Dominique Vexx

The debates she was listening to were rather interesting... some of the ones at least. The delegation that had brought them were of more interest while she sat there and was prepared for anything. Allowing the force to expand outwards as she felt more happening around the ship. Her movements small and subtle as she was sitting there and had a look at the woman. The woman now regarded herself with a look as she offered a soft smile. Her gown, a masterwork of Chandrilan refinement even in exile, traced elegant lines along her form in pale, luminous fabric that seemed engineered as much as tailored, its structure framing her posture with deliberate precision.

A high collar rose in a sculpted arc at her throat before giving way to a geometric opening across the chest, a design that suggested both restraint and intention, as if every angle had been calculated to draw the eye exactly where she wished it. Draped sleeves fell from her shoulders in long, uninterrupted lines, granting her silhouette a sense of quiet motion even while still. Her hair, a vivid and fiery red, was arranged with effortless discipline, each strand appearing guided into place rather than forced, lending her an air of controlled intensity that bordered on provocative. THe small lapel on a necklace of a BLUE HAWK in flight.

There was something unmistakably deliberate in the way she held her gaze as Ayumi offered just a grin and small look. "Well at least this isn't a total bust and I suppose I should try and pry information from you."