Whiskey and Philosophy

[Eralam]

The room was dark and smoky. For all appearances, it was your average swanky bar. The droid bartender would mix just about any drink the customer desired. The humidor had a large selection of products for the discerning smoker to choose from. The furniture was all dark-stained hardwood and leather, comfortable, worn, and inviting. The floor was also hardwood, waxed and polished to a sheen, not that you could tell in the dim light. In the corner was a pool table. Soft jazz played from hidden speakers, and you could take it or leave. There were no vid screens, no jukeboxes, nothing electronic save the bartender and the lights.

Well, the lights, the bartender, and Eralam.

The old Iron Knight sat in a booth, resting comfortable with his back to the wall, a glass of something dark and amber that smelled of peat smoke and sin in his claw-like hand. Every now and again, he'd take a sip, the liquid disappearing into...somewhere. No one really knew how he managed to consume alcohol, only that he could.

The bar was empty at the moment, aside from the hulking war droid. It was never exactly busy, as only a select few knew it existed. Money meant nothing here, nor did power, or the Light Side, or the Dark Side. This was a place of mingling, of quiet rendezvous away from the prying eyes of society. There was even a room in the back for those who wanted a more intimate setting.

Eralam never really made much use of that room. As a Shard, there weren't many who would consider even trying, and he had never particularly had the urge himself. He was here for the whiskey and the company.

 

[Sinistra]

The instructions she received to find a very secret meeting were almost a little asinine. Almost. As a spymaster on her own, she knew the value of a good safe meeting location. The harder to get to, the less likely that it will be discovered. This place was nearly mythical apparently. It was luch and richly appointed, reminding her of something she couldn't quite put a finger on. It was familiar and yet unknown at the same time. She noticed that she was not alone in the establishment, if it could be called one. It looked like a very exclusive, private social club.

She ordered three fingers of whiskey, neat and the droid behind the bar poured her an impeccable drink in an exquisite cut crystal highball glass. She took it over to the only other being in the place and slid into the booth. She was wearing a very well tailored business suit, cut Kuati style, in traditional colors of House Corsai. Her eyes were searching for something in his form, something that would give her information on him. A scuff in the metal, a ding on a corner. The whirring sound of the servos.

She took a sip of the whiskey, letting the burn of the alcohol descend her throat, warming it like a fiery stone as it hit her tummy and she relaxed. The first sip of the night was always her favorite and she tended to savor it in her own private way. The glass was returned to the table and she leaned back into the cushions, her hands folded in her lap.

"I assume that by walking through that door, we can dispense with the charades. We both know what we are here."

There was a cryptic smile on her lips, eyes searching again.

 

[Eralam]

There was a hint of a smile about the Shard, languid and lazy. This, despite no face. No mouth with which to sip the scotch in the glass, not that it stopped Eralam from enjoying his drink.

"Hello, Sinistra," he drawled, his mechanical voice buzzing pleasantly. "Yes, I think it's safe to say we do. Please, have a seat."

The jazz softened a little before giving way to a swinging big band number, lots of brass and energy. It was bright and cheerful, and not at all at odds with the atmosphere, somehow. Eralam's posture was relaxed and friendly, but his scarred and battered chestplate a monument to past violence. There were no weapons on his belt.

"So, what do you think?" he asked, gesturing expansively. "I'm told the owner spends more in bribes yearly keeping this place clean of outside surveillance than he paid to build the place."

 

[Sinistra]

"I think it's money well spent, wouldn't you agree, Eralam?"

There was a gleeful grin on her face, one that almost lit up her features. While the Shard would be ageless inside his metal from, the brushes of time were working upon her face. Nothing so deep and disturbing as a disfigured Emperor from time long past, but a crease here, a wrinkle there. The kind of subtle aging that surgeons wish they had a hand for.

"Unless, of course, you count as outside surveillance."

There was a chuckle from her, and she reached for the whiskey again, looking for the distinctive bite of the carefully aged and crafted liquor on her tongue once more.

"To what do I owe the invitation? Your name has been known for years as something of a legend in the intelligence field. I am but a lowly servant to the whims the Sith."

She liked to sell herself short in conversation, to see if the other party would tell her of the reputation she carried elsewhere. Sometimes, it could be beneficial. It depended on the company.

 

[Eralam]

Eralam chuckled.

"'A legend in the intelligence field' is hardly a sign of success, wouldn't you say?"

In their field, anonymity was the highest compliment. Eralam, however, had been around for so long that it would have been a true miracle if his name wasn't known in some circles. The fact that it wasn't known to the public was some small consolation.

The Shard took another sip from his own glass.

"Lord Sinistra," he said mildly, "I do believe you to be the rarest of Sith: a modest one. You've quite the reputation yourself, you know."

His voice was as relaxed as his posture, with a mild drawl normally associated with more rural planets.

"But I'm sure you already know that.

 

[Sinistra]

"Depends, reports of you have surfaced from time to time but you are so long lived, they are mostly written off as rumors and never traced. There are some who believe that there are several Eralams, scattered across the galaxy, never knowing if any are truly the one of legend. Or perhaps all of them are. It is an entertaining tale for rookies."

She shrugged, her eyes glancing to the rest of the room then back to him. Always be aware of your surroundings. It was far more subtle than my words do justice, as she was a consummate professional.

"To tell the truth, most of the Sith have no idea who I am. I am but a small blip. Easily forgotten. It's part of my success. I give them the information they need, and for the most part, they never see my face. For the most part. I'm horribly underestimated in their ranks. And I like it that way. I ma much more well known as a master of other arts. I believe you poached one from my stable once. I could never prove it though. Dax vanished like he never existed. Most intelligence agencies aren't that thorough."

 

[Eralam]

"I remember Dax," Eralam said.

He drained off the rest of his glass and motioned for another.

"Hate to break it to you, but he wasn't in your stable. Or at least, not for the reasons you thought. He was feeding information back to a Sith cult that weren't exactly happy with the way the One Sith did business. I, uh, told him if he fessed up, I'd make him disappear. I'm sure vaporization wasn't what he had in mind, but a promise is a promise."

The Shard chuckled, low and gravelly.

"I like double agents just fine, My Lord, but I cannot abide a bad one."

 

[Sinistra]

"Oh I knew he was a bad agent, that's why I gave him shitty assignments and fed him bad information. He was gonna get greased one way or another and I need to entertain myself somehow."

Most of the time, she managed a calm, enticing demeanor, without a hint of malice. Charm and grace personified. It was all an act. She started to let her guard down a bit, letting her Sith show, so to speak. After all, if this were about a hit, she'd already be dead.

"So what do two old spooks talk about? Or should I ask what a Sith Lord and an Iron Knight talk about?"

She gestered at the bardroid and he came over with a fresh round of drinks, placing them neatly on the table and removing the empties before retreating back to the bar. Iron Knight was on purpose. They were lightsiders. Jedi or something approximating it. Not that she thought Eralam leaned that way, but it must have appealed at some point.

 

[Eralam]

The impression that Eralam was smiling grew more intense, though it took a more feral edge.

"You make Iron Knight sound so dirty, my dear Sith. I assure you, they accepted me into their ranks because they couldn't afford to turn me away at the time, not because they had any great love for my philosophy."

The more staunch Jedi apologists had been deeply apposed to the idea at the time. Never mind that he could give any organic fighter a run for their money, Eralam was a dangerous apostate who refused to accept the supremacy of the Light. Never mind that he was equally as disdainful of the Dark.

"I called you here because I find you interesting, My Lord. The Sith know little to nothing of your activities, and yet you've built an intelligence network from scratch that, in a few short decades, has come within a few parsecs of rivaling mine. I'll grant that my people tend to move slowly under the best of circumstances, but that doesn't make your accomplishments any less impressive. I wished to try to get a feel for you, to see if you were someone who might be a potential ally."

 

[Sinistra]

Her lips pursed at his implication, eyes narrowed in thought.

"I have no authority to speak for the One Sith, as you said, most don't know me. I am not so dissatisfied that I would become a double agent for another service. What kind of ally are we talking about?"

She reached for the drink, although she kept her eyes on him as she took a sip of the absolutely, perfectly aged whiskey.

 

[Eralam]

"Nothing so crass as asking you to flip your allegiance, My Lord," Eralam said, the barest hint of emphasis on the honorific.

The Shard produced a pipe from one of the folds of his cloak and lit it. The sweet fragrance of the tobacco quickly wafted over the booth. Much like the drink, it wasn't entirely clear how he was smoking it, but smoking it he was. He blew a large smoke ring, and quickly exhaled a solid stream of blue-gray smoke through the center.

"You'd be insulted if I asked, and I'd be insulted if you accepted. We may not know each other, but we know each other better than that. No, what I have in mind is something like an armistice. When two networks of a certain size begin to come into contact, there is almost always friction. Instead of getting in each others' way and risking everything on petty conflict, I propose we skip the fighting altogether and admit that neither of us has a distinct advantage. Instead, we stay out of each others' way for the most part, cooperate when mutually beneficial, and when conflict is inevitable, you and I settle matters like adults rather than risking the lives and covers of agents we've spent years cultivating."

 

[Sinistra]

There was mock surprise on her face as she retracted her fingers from the glass and produced a small silver cigarette case from an inner pocket of her overcoat. She produced a black, spiced cigarette and lit it, savoring the taste of the sweet cinnamon and cloves on her lips. She licked them before she exhaled a fog of grey smoke.

"My dear Eralam, you are asking a Sith to be reasonable. What ever will this universe come to next?"

She took a sip of the whiskey and let it linger on her tongue, mingling the favors together before she swallowed it.

"I can be reasonable when the alternative serves no purpose to me. Very well, a gentleman's agreement then? We remain cordial with regards to ops, and never question the motive of our respective organizations. As if I could tell you what they are doing to begin with."

Another drag on the black clove cigarette, another exhale of grey, curls and wisps around her head like a dirty halo.

"Although, I must admit, the interest in my accomplishments is a little surprising."

 

[Eralam]

"It's no secret that females in our line of work are often relegated to little more than courtesans," he said.

The cigarette and the pipe smoke mingled pleasantly in the air, though Eralam suspected that one that didn't share their vices would be trying really hard not to sneeze right about now.

"Especially, if you'll forgive my presumption, attractive ones such as yourself."

There was nothing untoward in Eralam's assessment, simply an honest evaluation from one spymaster to another.

"For your to rise above that speaks of skill and ruthlessness uncommon in our world, and that is something I admire. I was very much hoping you and I could be friends, as much as two leaders of rival intelligence agencies with vastly different philosophies and worldviews can, at any rate."

 

[Sinistra]

"Flattery will get you everywhere with some Sith. Not with me."

She blinked at him, with a look of sarcasm on her face. He had a point, as forward thinking as some planets in the galaxy could be, there were just as many that were misogynistic. Often times a spy succeeded because they were seductive and used that to get ahead. Sinistra never had. Not once. Maybe it had to do with her being Kuati. They were matriarchal. She was never groomed to be second to anyone but her own ambition. It had cost her some deals, some missions, but it never cost her something she couldn't overcome.

"You know, first you ask me to be reasonable and now you want to be friends. Did they not teach you that Sith have no friends? Either you think they are wrong, or you think that the tenets of the Dark Side are not so dear to me that I have eschewed them."

She exhaled another puff of smoke and ashed the cigarette in a crystal ashtray. They really did think of everything here.

"So which is it?"

 

[Eralam]

"And here I was, thinking that Sith were masters of their own fate, not the other way around."

There was the barest hint of a smirk in the Shard's voice.

"The pursuit of power for power's sake means that you utilize any tools necessary. Passion. Aggression. Hatred. All tools of the Dark Side, no?"

Eralam knew he was walking a fine line here. Many Sith would scoff at the very idea of friendship, but he figured they were fools. He certainly didn't take Sinistra for a fool, but there was always the chance that she might bristle at his interpretation of what it meant to be a Sith.

"What's a friend but another tool, an asset kept close and loyal? Honestly, I know Sith these days are all about pain and sacrifice, but once upon a time they took the Dark path not because it was easier, but because it was more fun. What good is power when you can't enjoy it a little? You are a Sith Lord, one who fought tooth and nail to get herself into the position you're in now. What's the bloody point if you can't enjoy the privileges of your station every now and again?"

He gestured to the room.

"This place was created to be a sanctuary. No violence is permitted within these walls. No tradecraft, no skullduggery, just professionals looking to have a quiet drink. Business is permitted, but only after pleasure has been attended to. If there is one place in the galaxy where you can let your hair down, this is it."

Eralam took another sip of his drink.

"And I will admit, I like what you've done with your network. Most Sith don't know the meaning of subtle. They may play at it when the mood hits, but they're about as smooth as sandpaper against road rash. You are an exception, and I'm sure that will make you enemies down the road. Since I'd much rather work with you than take a risk on your successor, I'm offering my personal friendship, knowing that your beliefs will almost certainly lead you to try to betray me in the future."

 

[Sinistra]

"Firstly, yes we are masters of our fate, but I also know that you don't climb ranks in groups of hedonistic sycophants by openly flaunting their ideals."

She gestured when she spoke of something passionately, pointing with the two fingers holding the black spiced cigarette.

"Secondly, I agree that there are tools to advance your power with the Dark Side, but they are all to be manipulated. Friend implies that such manipulation would be unfair. You don't kark over friends. You manipulate pawns. However, you still wish to know the Sith behind the spy? Why?"

She was looking up and away as though she was trying to reason out his logic for herself, a spoken alout rhetorical question.

"It is intriguing. The price of betrayal wrapped into the cost of doing business? With a proposition like that, who I am to refuse? I just have a question for you. If you know that somewhere down the line, I'm going to betray you, what exactly do you get out of this arrangement?"

It was a sincere question and she sat, her left arm crossed, the right propped on it, the black cigarette curling smoke around her head as she looked at him, searching for an answer in his features.

 

[Eralam]

"What do I get? I get a friend."

There was more than a little mirth in Eralam's voice, and his body language suggested he was on the brink of laughter.

"In all seriousness, I'm used to playing the long game. You're not the sort of Sith that has to sabotage herself just for the sake of being Sithier than thou. You'd chop off your arm if you had to, but not just because you're trying to meet your weekly quota of angst. If you were, you'd have run into one of my people years before, with the intent to leave you face down in a gutter. You'll get the absolute most out of a tool before you throw it away, and you'll only throw it away when it'll benefit you the most to do it. That means my goal is to make sure we're as useful to one another as possible, and hope that you stop being useful to me long before I stop being useful to you."

He polished off the rest of the glass and stood up, robotic joints creaking.

"At the end of the day, we are what we are. Nothing will change that except for the cold embrace of death. But until then, life's too short not to have a little fun in the mean time, and you'll be better for conversation than some terrified underling who just wants to make it out of the room with his head on his shoulders."

From behind the bar, the Iron Knight picked up a deck of cards. Not sabacc. These cards were paper and wouldn't shift values midgame.

"Care for a little poker?"

 

[Sinistra]

"Then it seems I have a friend."

Against all better Sith judgment truthfully, but to be fair, he was right. There might have been a point in her past when she was able to be Sithier than thou and angsty, but this was not it. She was misanthropic to be sure, and held no decent respect for life or the lives of others who stood in the way of her goals. The Shard played the long game and so did she. She'd been playing it since she was girl.

She had joined the spy game decades ago after she had indulged being a Sith lord out in the Unknown Regions. However, she had always known that a double life afforded her more opportunities to gain the thing she loved more than anything else in life. Knowledge. So she had taken great precautions to veil her face and features behind masks and hoods. Now that she had a life long-lived by Sith standards, her careful machinations to keep her identity secret were falling away. She could still lead her stable and be known to the Sith.

"Draw? Stud? Hold em?"

She butted out the sweet perfumed cigarette and gestured for him to deal her in as he took a seat once more. She recalled a spoken word recording once, that stuck with her as she moved through life.

"You don't trade money here, you trade information and skin."

There was a delectable smile on her face.

"Shall we bet secrets? Or shall we play with credits like they mean anything?"

 

[Eralam]

"Hold 'em to start with."

Eralam's claw-like fingers expertly shuffled the deck. He offered it to Sinistra to cut, and was not at all surprised when she took him up on his offer to cut the deck. Some saw it as a means of demonstrating trust to hold back from cutting it, but that would have been foolish here. They might have agreed to be friendly, but the Shard didn't trust Sinistra nearly as far as he could throw her. He dealt each of them two cards, leaving his own facedown on the table.

"Secrets, but only personal ones. We've got people to work on the state ones."

The music gave way to something more sinister, as if responding to the Sith's cue. Eralam didn't think that the contextual music selection algorithm was working, but apparently it was. Oh well, he liked this song.

https://youtu.be/XkNAL85Vc9Y

 

[Sinistra]

"High stakes then? If I can't share secrets with a friend, who can I share them with?"

She peeked at the cards dealt her and cocked her head sidesways, squinting and thinking how she wanted to play it. Ante would be silly here but there had to be degrees of secrets. Some were weightier than others. She decided to start small.

"We need a scale. Fibs, lies, secrets. Two fibs is a lie. Two lies is a secret. Beyond that, it's winner's discretion. So we are not divulging our life stories in three hands. Bets roll into larger secrets as the betting goes on. Ante up is a fib. Sound like a plan?"

She reached for the drink and sipped it smiling. He had a larger wealth of information to divulge, even if it was personal. He'd been around for centuries.