Private Wine, Whispers, and Wanton Memories

[Orika]

ACHERIN

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER OCCUPIED SPACE

SOME SEEDY TAVERN​

Wine, Whispers, and Wanton Memories

​

A soft sigh escaped slightly parted lips as a woman in a soft gold dress twirled a chilled wine glass between her fingers, her angular chin resting against her palm. Crimson eyes flicked around the room, waiting, watching, as she took in her surroundings. One man sat in a diluted state, surrounded by the laughter of his comrades. Too foolish, not quite to her tastes. Another huff filled the air from her parted lips as she slowly tipped back her glass, long tendrils spilling over her exposed shoulders at a tantalizingly slow pace. The grinding scratch of metal on concrete echoed in the small tavern as another young buck thought to make his move on her. Long, dark lashes veiled a somewhat irritated glare as her gaze flicked over to him.

“Pardon, ma’am, is this seat taken?” He slurred, a half-grin plastered on his average-looking face. Tragically, it was not, and perhaps this was the single thing that irritated her most of all. Never-the-less, she painted on a pretty smile, her nails tapping against the counter as she set her wine down and turned her body to face him.

“Not at all. Please, make yourself comfortable.” One long, slender leg slowly crossed over the other, the skirt of her dress riding up just enough to expose a geometric tattoo on her outer thigh. To say her figure was immaculate would be a gross understatement, bearing a silhouette that only lived in the day dreams of those who would desire her. Her voice was breathy and coarse, years of one skeevy bar after another and more cigarettes than she had care to count giving it a naturally husky timbre. Such a thing only served to add to the mystery of the elusive creature, leaning forward on her knee to peer directly into the blood-shot eyes of her aspirant suitor. “What brings you to this run down planet? We drink on Acherin, resident of New Imperial Order owned space, surely you’ve a unique reason to approach me?”

“Rumors, Lady. Rumors bring me here.” He leaned forward, the stench of alcohol fumigating from his form. Orika recognized the specific response, nipping her lower lip and tugging it between her teeth before slowly nodding.

“I’ll bite, what news have you to give?” She tilted her head, the scent of lilac and rose wafting from her ebon waves, the only respite she had from his odorous form.

“An entire group of Chiss diplomats, refugees from Csilla. They’ve maneuvered to meet with the Imperator on the Dissident Aggressor. I’ve got no clue if they actually succeeded, but word travels fast.”He responded haphazardly, his tone low and even. This was daunting news indeed. Orika’s lax features tightened in discomfort. If the Chiss Ascendancy were already reaching out, it wouldn’t be long till they established a place for themselves, especially if they were as high ranking as they appeared to be.

“Got it. Thank you for this.” She tossed him some unknown form of currency, the man catching it and quickly tucking it in his back pocket. As she turned, carefully groomed black-painted fingernails reached out to grip his chin, a pleasant smirk on Orika’s face. “Get me a meeting with the Imperator, and I might grant you a reward far more spectacular.” Her voice grew low and whispery, honey-thick with promises of decadence. Her right hand moved up to trail the tip of her nail along his jawline, halting right beneath his chin. “Are you not as capable as you claim?”

“I..err...I don’t have much standing on the ship, Lady. There's only so much I can do…”He gulped, and her perfected vision almost immediately caught the rising of temperature in his face. He was flustered. Men, so easy to read. Her grin spread, the pale blue vixen lowering her head just enough to gaze up at him sensually.

“What a shame, I do tend to fancy a man that stands out above all this rabbel and normalcy.” She leaned forward the slightest bit, her ruby painted lips stopping just to the right of his ear.“Surely you are not like the others? You’ve found me, after all. Now impress me.”She smirked, giving him a little kiss on the cheek before leaning back and returning her hand to her wine glass. “When shall I expect word of your success?”

He immediately stood from his barstool, nearly toppling it over in the process. She had him right where she wanted him.“I’ll get it set up before you even finish your next thought, Lady. Don’t worry about it. I am the best, after all.”He gave a proud, cocky grin, though the effect was somewhat lost from his stumbling. He quickly bolted out the door, and Orika turned in her seat, returning to finishing off the last few droplets of wine.

The best, he had said, they were all the best. But...she was better. If Chiss diplomats had truly set foot upon that ship, she’d be damned if she wouldn’t be next to board.

Irveric Tavlar

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
ACHERIN
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

Acherin was hardly an epicenter of Imperial authority under the demesne of the Iron Sun. However, anywhere the Dissident Aggressor went, that certainly changed. The vessel never operated without the implication that the Imperator was aboard, even if he wasn't. This was due in part to sway foreign intelligences in multiple directions regarding the presence and location of the New Imperial head of state.

Anyone coming off or on the ship which was not a stationed crew member of the vessel was due to raise eyebrows as foreign presences were typically only allowed under the authority of the Imperator or the commanding officer to the Dissident Aggressor or the Admiral of the Seventh Fleet. There were few exceptions and thus, before Orika was allowed any initiative in meeting with the Imperator, a proxy was sent in his place to the surface of Acherin.

AGENT 'ANIMUS'
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
THE COOL
​

The main entrance way to this indescript cantina opened with a metallic hiss. While most circumstances called for the nigh entirety of the patrons to ignore the new comer, offering if only a glance in passing interest, the figure that appeared managed to draw a shroud of silence over the establishment.

A Nova Commando, a Stormtrooper cast in black and gold. They were the unit selected from the best of New Imperial Special Operations Command with one sole aim in mind.

The protection of the Sovereign Imperator.

Most all of these drunkards, spacers and travelers had never seen one in person or could recall someone that had. ANd here, there was two. One entered, clutching a particle beam carbine in his hands as he looked over the tavern, his visor visibly illuminating with the thermal filter. And then the next entered, standing at the opposite flank of the doorway only to make way for-

A shrouded man, donning a silver, reflective mask over his face entered with a black trench coat over completely black ISB fatigues. There was certainly New Imperial business to be done here and at his arrival, many of the patrons went back to their drinks and conversations in an attempt to ease the present tension in the air.

But this agent seemingly had no quarrel with any of them, only a singular soul in her did he fixate on at all. The very same who sought an audience with the Imperator to begin with.

Tracking her down seemed to be a task of much ease to the man and soon enough, one of the Nova Commandos had her by the arm, to escort her to a private booth in the Cantina, while not out of total eye or ear shot of the remaining patrons, it offered a heightened degree of subtly, something this man clearly didn't care for in spite of his enigmatic and secretive demeanor otherwise.

"Someone has told us you wish to be brought aboard the New imperial Vessel, 'Dissident Aggressor', explain your name, identity and purpose for doing so." Chiss space was not a soft topic in recent weeks, with the New Imperial Order's strengthened presence in the region there was no telling who might be seeking to infiltrate and sabotage their military assets, be they Maw, other Sith or terrorist aligned. Had this been any other circumstance, her request might have been very well ignored.

But the annihilation of Csilla changed everything in how the New Imperial Order operated in the Unkown Regions.

 

[Orika]

ACHERIN

A NEW YET ANTICIPATED MEETING​

Three drinks in, three more in the queue, the azure woman for not the first time tonight cursed her particularly high alcohol tolerance. Every time she closed her eyes, old memories flashed in front of her. Sounds rang in her ears, echoing throughout her body, sounds of screams, crying, desperation, and death. All these years, and those memories still plagued her. Someone sat down beside her, whispering in her ear as her eyes flicked back open. News, and good news at that. For now, the memories would have to be held at bay. The message was direct and to the point. She would be expecting company, a different meeting she had set up weeks ago, a very old friend's face projecting to the front of her mind. Her eyes narrowed and she went back to her drink, till a cold chill ran up her spine.

Orika's gaze tilted back, her head pivoting slowly, but not enough to make her actions obvious. The silence was deafening, the usually obstreperous rabble of working men and underground thugs put to quiet by the group's sheer presence. It was enough to make a woman's skin crawl. The information she had been so graciously passed would have to wait, for a much more interesting action had finally yielded a response. Her crimson eyes closed, a small smirk tugging at her lips as she took a deep breath in, it was time.

As the hand of one of the Nova Commandos gripped her arm, she shrunk her shoulders in close to her body, a language that screamed both fear and intimidation. She turned to the silver-masked man, her eyes widening in terror.

'IBS, Black fatigues. Yes, this is exactly who I'd hoped to encounter.' She thought to herself, glancing over his entire visage and mentally calculating his measurements and over all stature.'Cold persona, likely will not react well to arrogance or back talk.' She continued back to the private room, sending a tremor through her body for added effect.'He might not be easy to convince.'

"Where are you taking me? Who are you?" She stammered out before being placed in the booth, a hand still gripping her arm. "Please, I had nothing to do with the attack, or anyone involved. I swear. I mean no harm." Her voice was reduced to an almost whimpering tone, quiet enough to maintain discretion, but audible enough to drive across a frantic appearance. The sleeve of her dress slowly slid down over her toned arm with her shaking, exposing far more than what would be considered decent of her chest and shoulders, her collarbone glistening under what little light penetrated the booth.

At his words, she slowly nodded, taking a small breath in and calming herself to some degree. "I am called Orika, a refugee who fled from the aftermath of the destruction of Csilla. I had no where to go, so I hitched a ride and was left here. I wanted to offer my aid to the Imperial New Order. I heard you were harboring refugees and I..." She halted, taking a shaky breath, as if the memory alone was enough to cause her physical pain. "I just want to avenge my family." She choked up a bit at the end, as a tear welled in her vermillion eye, leaving a hot trail down her cheek. Thick, carefully groomed brows furrowed in wrath incomparable, her teeth gritting as a scowl took over her expression, her pouty, red-painted lips barely parting as more tears quietly streamed down her face.

"They killed all of them...every last one..." Her red gaze then shot back up to the man in both fury and determination. "I cannot rest until what was done to my homeland is paid for. I heard the Imperator sympathizes with our pain. He understands us. I had hoped to share my story, and aid him in any way I can. A man with enough honor to protect those who remain surely would hear the words of a simple woman, cast out on her own with no where to turn. He has been painted as a villain by outsiders, I want him to know that not everyone is so quick tobelieve such slander."

Her eyes then slowly fell to her lap, fluttering closed. It was not the destruction of Csilla she pictured, but a fate far more gruesome...and personal. To any that looked upon her though, the vision of shock was sincere, fresh, and pointed. It was at this moment she remained silent, listening, waiting patiently for a response. All of her story held enough truth to it to come across as valid. That was her talent, give them just enough truth in the lies, and this was a story she had repeated enough times to nearly manifest it into reality. "I don't know anyone here, and every one I knew is gone, scattered across space itself. I have no one else to turn to..."

To them, she was just another traumatized member of the Chiss Ascendency, a fragile beauty of some lower rank, clinging to idealistic vengeance that may never come.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
ACHERIN
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

AGENT 'ANIMUS'
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
GOLDEN TAURUS
​

The silver hood pulled over the gaze of the agent revealed nothing of the emotional projection on his face as she made her emotional plea to him. He was hardly listening, he was reading. Reading each subtle give and draw of her expression with each word. She was seemingly genuine, or very good at lying. Either was concerning and either was useful. The former meant she was a truly desperate person and perhaps, slightly delusional. The latter meant of course, she was a liar. But compelling liars have their uses, certainly in the line of work Animus operated in and the means and needs of the New Imperial Order.

But even so, he'd hedge his bets on the former. The Chiss, while baring a decently influential diaspora across the Galaxy, were tightly knit and there were very few among them who were not impacted deeply by the destruction of Csilla. This sort of emotional distress would make playing a façade much more straining on the mortal consciousness.

Well, he was already here.

As she was speaking, he wordlessly held his hand out, as if asking for her own. Assuming she cooperated, he'd bring a scanner to her palm, the cold flourescent blue running a swift scan of her handprint before it relayed itself to his cyberntic heads up display.

And that, showed him all that was available to the Imperial Security Bureau's Q level database.

She was mostly a blank, sparse criminal or employment record. A Chiss 'shadow child'. While it revealed little to what her capabilities were, blank slate was a good foundation to build off.

He didn't seem to register any sympathy from her pleas, he was here on Order dime and had already held up two Nova Commandos in this presence patrol. He needed answers.

She'd already said she wanted to volunteer and thus- to the Dissident Aggressor they'd go.

He stood up from his seat, motioning for her to do the same before making their way from the Cantina. The Nova troopers fell in line in silence.

He spoke in apathy to anyone overhearing them now, his presence would cause enough chatter as is and if they needed to, COMPNOR could run misdirection. But all in all, he didn't care in the slightest for this backwater port beyond the obligation of the New Imperial Order to defend its soil.

"What is your skillset and why do you wish to encounter the Sovereign Imperator directly?" He asked outright.

 

[Orika]

The woman noticed his lack of empathy, but maintained the act, looking particularly uncomfortable. "Well, I did serve in the military for a while so I'm passable with long range and close quarters combat. Strategically, I can think rather quickly. Hmmm, I suppose that's about all though. Ah, and I know quite a few people."

She then turned her face up to him, giving a radiant smile. "I suppose I'm a fairly likeable person, if you would consider that a skill set." Her tone was somewhat innocent, and held a purity to it that was not often found in women over their twenties. Perhaps, one could assume her time as a shadow child left her sheltered to a degree, not bearing the typical cold and calculating demeanor of a Chiss.

She hummed a bit to herself, thinking carefully on her next words. "Like I said, I wish to speak with him myself before entirely swearing my service. As I'm sure you know, Chiss people must ascertain the worthiness of whomever they intend to aid directly. If the rumors of his personality and tyranny hold true, I would rather not make such an oath. However, if my hunch about him is correct, and he's an understanding and ambitious man, then I would not hesitate." Ruby-painted lips parted in a slow huff, having answered rather eloquently, or so she had thought.

Besides, enlisting in service to the Imperator would have far more benefits outweighing the down sides. Information always travelled more quickly when heard directly rather than through a line of unknowing informants. Plus, he would bring her closer to them, the ten. Her eye twitched slightly, that horrible memory constantly playing in the back of her mind.

She turned her head back up to the agent, tilting it curiously before looking back to the others and giving a weak, awkward laugh. "Have you any other questions for me?" The light click of her heels seemed to resonate against the surface as they walked, filling what felt like a tense, awkward silence with at least some degree of sound. She shied away, still looking quite anxious, as anyone would be when things happened so fast.

'Am I bound for a full interrogation? How exhausting.' She thought to herself, internally rolling her eyes. Though it was understandable that they would take such caution, it was more than a little daunting. For how long would she have to keep up this charade? Well, hopefully the Imperator would not be fool enough to fall for it. Then again, most men were. If he did not, well, there was no harm in being honest with someone who just might be willing to turn a blind eye.

"If you do allow me to see him, might you consider giving me a chance to change?" She glanced down at her shimmery gold dress, the skirt far too short for something so formal. "I fear I may embarrass myself in such an ensemble." Her cheeks tinged a light pink, eyes still swollen from the brief shedding of tears. They remained down-turned, peering forlornly at the floor, as though she was mustering all of her confidence to maintain some sense of normalcy in her responses.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

AGENT 'ANIMUS'
IMPERIAL SECURITY BUREAU
​

Once more, none of what she said had proved to be a lie to this point. And nothing that she requested was seemingly so unreasonable. But the Sovereign Imperator, the head of state to what was now one of the largest Galactic powers meeting with this woman due to her own alien customs was not exactly something worth the time to a man of Tavlar's importance.

But they'd gone well out of their way enough for her by now. Being in the proximity she was to the Imperator and in direct contact with his proxy, his mid way point between the request and the meeting, there wasn't much else that needed to be done for her to be face to face with him.

"The Imperator will recieve your meeting aboard the Dissident Aggressor. Such has been the priority of his agenda in the wake of the tragedy at Csilla, sowing the hearts and minds of the Chiss in-exile. Show military decorum, respect, etiquette." Animus replies as they neared the shuttle that'd bring them back aboard the Imperator's dreadnought.

"If the Imperator does not deem you unfit to serve, you will enter the services of the Imperial Security Bureau and begin operation once your skillset has been verified." In these times of need, the New Imperial Order's armed forces and intelligence services were willing to expedite training pipelines if it meant getting assets unto the field.

Desperate times, desperate measures.

To her last comment, he gave one passing glance to her attire before nodding in agreement.

"You will be given the proper facilities to prepare yourself for this meeting." He conceded.

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
HYPERSPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

The Dissident Aggressor had long been one of the most advanced and heavily armed ships in the New Imperial Navy. The first star dreadnought constructed by what had now become Kuat-Entralla Engineering had since served as the Imperator's mobile command center. And aboard the bridge, the Imperator had seen a hectic fallout from the destruction of Csilla. After conducting its rearmament, refueling and other small scale operations on Acherin, a manifest reading had seen it ready to make the jump to hyperspace once more.

WIthin the command bridge of the Dissident Aggressor, the Imperator lorded over the holomap once more, the three dimensional table depicting a map of New Imperial space with the coded lense of strategic needs across its space.

It did not paint an endearing picture. The war with the Sith Empire had been the primary aim of its military doctrine for over half a decade now with maneuvers being dictated in millions of troopers and warfighting assets at once. On top of this, anti-insurgency internally and in surrounding systems demanded the attention of special operations assets, the New Imperial Knights had been deployed to Silver space in order to remain on call should the Bryn'adul strike their southern neighbors once more, the Imperial Military Assistance Group had been training foreign militants in Ashlan space and now, the Csilla had seen Chiss space thrust higher up New Imperial strategic priorities.

They were spread thin, any quick glance at this made the means of securing more manpower seem far, far less surprising.

Engaged in idle chatter with the Kel Dor Admiral of the Seventh Fleet, Var Koon, his attention shifted from the conversation at the sound of the metallic hiss of the door opening behind him. Var Koon instinctively flicked the overlay of the holomap to a standard regional scope as Tavlar turned to face whoever arrived.

His appearance was distinct. His sole, steely gaze embedded within his face marred with lacerations, scars, tibanna burns and other minor wounds across the skin, his right eye concealed with its ebon eyepatch with only the most keenly sighted able to catch the crimson glimmer of cybernetic beneath. And of course, the trait which had made Irveric 'the demon' to many who sought to decry him. The protruding horn of Beskar steel emerging from his flesh.

The last indicator of his strife came in the form of his right arm of crimson and black cybernetic, unconcealed by synth flesh with its brutalist, Imperial engineering and craftsmanship open for all to see.

There was no doubt this was the Sovereign Imperator in the flesh. Donned in his fieldgrey, black and crimson piped military uniform he was no doubt an imposing man, a man of a well controlled and deeply tempered raging fire within that only reverberated in a cold exterior. His

Animus, with the Chiss woman at his flank entered. The ISB agent offered a salute all but immediately from which Tavlar nodded once to be at ease.

"This is the contact who sought to meet with you, Imperator." Irveric nodded once more to him.

"Understood, you're dismissed. Thank you, agent." He remarked to the man who promptly turned on his heel to take his leave.

Then, the Imperator's focus drifted to her, stepping forward once.

"And who are you?" He asked outright.

Orika

 

[Orika]

​

Orika had maintained her façade all the way up to those heavily armored doors, still looking anxious and skittish as a frightened cat. She had let her hair down, navy waves extending elegantly to her hip. She was dressed quite plainly, from what he could see. A long black trench coat concealed her body, buttoned tightly at the front. Two small gems, sapphire in color added a hint of luxury to her features, her long lashes painted a dark black only serving to further accentuate those deep crimson eyes. High cheekbones and a contoured jawline gave her a regal aura, even when displaying feigned anxiety and fear as she was. There was no doubt, she was beautiful, exceptionally so even for a Chiss. Despite being a member of a species that all looked relatively similar, she stood out.

The second the doors hissed back shut, she relaxed. Letting out baited breath before her eyes finally dared to settle upon the Imperator himself. Internally, she made her own judgements of him. Handsome, in a crude way. Perhaps it was his scars, which to her eyes served as a testament to his endurance and propensity to persevere through even the most lethal of situations, that drew her interest most.

It was the first time in a long time she had seen such distinguishable features, and it was clear that even as a human, this was not a person she would so easily persuade with falsities or petty flattery. So, she simply did not, choosing to neither lower her head nor give any sign of submission to the superior make of a man.

"You may call me Orika. A former member of the now fractured Chiss Ascendancy." It was after this that she took the initiative to slowly approach him, her hands clasped at the waist. With each step, her heels clicked against the metallic flooring of the ship. It was only once she was stood right in front of him that she stopped, only a step away from colliding with the man, her salacious gaze never leaving his face. "I had heard that you were welcoming refugees into your service, and hoped to speak with you directly myself. To be quite frank, I am beyond surprised that my goal was accomplished."

Her eyes then slowly trailed down from his own, glancing over his entire figure in deep interest before slowly returning back to his face, a small half-grin tugging at her full, pouty lips. It was at that comment that she took a casual step to the side, looking over to the Admiral and giving him the slightest nod of her head.

"I had hoped for a more private discussion, but seeing as I am the one intruding, I ask your forgiveness for such interruption." Her voice was breathy, refined, completely different from the demeanor she had presented all the way to this point. She then slowly extended her hand off of to the side, tilting her head and glancing up at him with some degree of playful confidence.

"Shall I wait for you to finish your discussion, Imperator? I have no desire to waste what precious moments can be afforded by a man with as many..." She slowly began removing her coat as she spoke, unclasping a button after every few words. Beneath it was a black silk gown that trailed to the floor, hugging every curve of her femininely shaped figure. A long slit on the side exposed her toned leg, the hints of a geometric tattoo peeking out from just beneath where it ended at the top. "...responsibilities as yourself."

There was a certain air to this woman that could interchangeably be described as either confidence or arrogance. The complete lack of intimidation or care for self preservation she presented even before a man whose very name could make a person tremble in fear or reverence was likely not to go unnoticed, especially if she truly was nothing more than a dispersed civilian with no particular rank or standing. Rather than wait for his response, she slowly moved off to the side, setting her coat over the back of a chair. With each step, her hips swayed, and there was no hesitance in her movement to turn her back to the man.

Orika slowly pivoted to meet his stare once more, that mischievous half-grin still plastered against her fair features. Her gaze never once left his eye-line. Waiting, watching, observing, almost predatorial in her assessment. In truth, she looked forward to his response. After all, it only took a few words for her to gauge the personality of a man.

Irveric Tavlar​

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
HYPERSPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

His immediate impression of her remained unclear. If Irveric could manage anything it was maintaining his icy composure at all times, if he had an impression of her at all. But she was clearly a bold character, to seek an audience with him directly. He was, by no means, afraid or suspect of her motives if only because this may very well be the least ideal circumstance to attempt assassination on a man who had already proven incredibly difficult to kill.

"We certainly are accepting the service of those evacuating Chiss space. If they want revenge...there is no more viable means than the New Order." Irveric stated outright, making clear of his intent. His actions in the past certainly agreed with the sentiment given the half decade long campaign and civil war he had continued to carry out in this form of devastating total war.

The Kel Dor offered a faint nod in reply before muttering something to the Imperator to which he gave a nod in acknowledgement in return, the Kel Dor Admiral then turning on his heel before stepping out unto the command bridge to take proper charge over his vessel and fleet, leaving the two effectively alone.

Her mannerisms and faint actions didn't visibly seem to pull his attention. He'd gotten good at this game. He had to, when a Sith Imperial Legionnaire, his Sith superiors would look for any lingering stench of weakness or indiscipline. And thus- he gave none. It was his means of survival.

But she offered little military or official decorum to his presence, she did not make herself 'smaller' in his presence, out of the respect to his authority and command. He respected this- after all, Irveric was not an overly formal man. Those who had gained his trust knew better than to go through the motions every time, he was a pragmatist at heart. If you needed to say something he needed to hear, say it. If you needed to do something to forward their mission, do it. Bureaucratic barriers held little sympathy from him.

Fortunately for her, all of Irveric's short term commands were set into place and the Dissident Aggressor was currently enveloped in the electric blue star stream of hyperspace.

At this point, she already had his attention...for several reasons. Thus- he might as well indulge the request.

Var Koon had the bridge and with that he nodded once to her.

"Follow." He said before moving to walk past her, offering a visual appraisal of her form with a brief gaze before moving past her to leave the command bridge.

He turned to take a stairwell in descension from the command bridge, to the level just beneath it. The Imperator's office and quarters aboard the Dissident Aggressor, his home away from home.

"It is incredibly rare someone supposes they can meet with me directly but clearly- you have a intent...and connections. If my agent believes you have use to my Order then it is so." He said, pressing his sole organic hand against the handprint scanner before the door opened to his office. Large, certainly so for a naval vessel, but not anything that flaunted grandeur. If anything, what was more prominent was his war trophies.

Behind the chair of his desk itself, strewn over the wall was a tattered banner, black whilst depicting a green Mythosaur, the symbol of the Mandalorian Creed. On his desk, a lightsaber of seemingly Jedi make. The scars told as much of a story of his past strife as these seemingly obscure objects did.

He sat himself down, leaning back into his seat before looking over her once more.

"Merely wishing to work for the Order is one thing...wanting to meet with me- another. So tell me what you're seeking, exactly."

Orika

 

[Orika]

SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'

RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET

HYPERSPACE

NEW IMPERIAL ORDER​

Orika's teasing little grin remained on her face, her head tilting back just slightly, elongating her neck and lifting her chin to maintain the air of luxury and dominion that she manifested so effortlessly. At the word revenge, she quirked a brow, tilting her head once more to stare him down. He was...difficult to read. The light red and gold tinges to his eyepatch indicated the heat-signature from his cybernetic, yet another thing that piqued the woman's curiosity.

Upon his speaking with the Admiral she patiently waited, before giving a nod at his order to follow and pivoting on her heel, having to take longer strides to keep up with his self-assured pace. As he spoke, she listened intently, picking up on his reasoning for granting her audience at all. Though he did not show it, he was curious, at least somewhat intrigued by whatever unseen potential his agent had spotted. This pleased her.

The variety of trinkets and safe-kept belongings that were settled around his quarters were of little surprise to the rather enigmatic woman. It was common for an individual to keep meaningful objects from their scattered victories. Orika gave a contented hum, approaching his desk before propping herself up on top of it, her arms extended out to support her weight. The provocative Chiss woman then leaned forward to respond, her near-shimmering hair falling elegantly over her shoulder as she did. Her crimson glare once again locked with his almost challengingly, ascertaining his worth before cracking yet another trademark half-grin.

"I will not waste your time with theatrics as I did with your agent. There is something I want, and yes, vengeance plays a large part in it. Ten individuals of standing, council members that held seat in the Chiss Ascendancy twelve years ago." She then pushed herself back up off of the desk, her back arching enticingly with the motion as her heels clicked once more against the floor. Slow, careful steps around the room granted her time to observe his possessions, attempting to piece together the pictures of his past.

"As you may or may not know, I am a shadow child. A member of a family who exists for the sole purpose of continuing our legacy, and in no other context than just that." She paused, turning then back towards the stoic man. "In the Chiss Ascendancy, the wrong-doings of one family member is the equal responsibility of every other member of the 'clan.' My brother was involved in an 'accident' that claimed the life of the son of a higher ranking family's head. In retribution, my family members were judged, lined up before a crowd of sneering civilians, and systematically executed. The eldest was in her eighties, the youngest had just celebrated his fourth birthday only a week prior." Orika approached his desk once more, leaning forward on it, and staring him down. This time, there was a palpable rage in those pretty eyes of hers.

"I want them dead. Every last one of them. Innocents died that day. The color of their blood, the sounds of their screams and cries of despair. I will never forget them. Whenever I close my eyes, the faces of those damnable council members glare back at me. The same blood that flows through my veins stained the floors that day, and I will ensure the price for that sin is paid for with the same consequence." She then leaned back, closing her eyes, momentarily collecting herself as a trembling breath departed from her ruby lips. "Now, with the destruction of Csilla, the rats have been chased from their holes."

Taking a smooth, fluid movement to settle back onto the desk, the woman crossed one long leg over the other, her dress-skirt sliding haphazardly open once more. "However, the New Imperial Order happens to be the place of refuge for those very same rats. I want to protect the innocent, those who did not deserve such a tragic fate. And I will extend to you every resource I have and more to aid in this purpose. Which, believe me, can produce a highly valuable asset. On the condition that if I meet these ten, I will be granted permission to carry out their execution with my own hands. No one else need know of this agreement, I have my own ways of covering my tracks. I came to you directly, however, because becoming a criminal in New Imperial Order owned space does not make my goal any easier to achieve."

A coy little laugh disrupted any tension her words might have caused. She leaned forward once more, her face mere inches from his. With an idle hand, she reached up to brush her hair back from her eyes, pushing the long tendril behind her ear. "So, with proof of the benefits I can provide, might you consider such a deal, dear Imperator?" Honey-thick words whispered from her mouth. There was a hint of danger to this woman, behind all the beauty and relatively collected temperament she was a huntress. A certain sincerity in her eyes, the flare of ambition and absolute decisiveness was all consuming, adding authenticity to her words.. She knew what she wanted, and there was nothing that would stop her from getting it, with or without his help.

Orika was playing a bargaining game with this man, and a risky one. She has just admitted openly to her desire to murder priorly high-ranking officials of the Chiss Ascendancy, some who may even already be dead. It would take little more than a few movements for the Imperator to destroy a potential future threat then and there, but she was confident that her cards were the right ones to play.

After all, she was charismatic, enticing, and where there was potential for threat, there was also the potential of reaping quite the reward. This woman had spent most of her life in the darkest corners of the galaxy, and had been hardened by her experiences, learning things that no military academy could ever hope to properly teach. However, at the end of the day, it was his choice to make.

"Think carefully." She whispered out, nipping her lower lip and tilting her head to the side, patiently awaiting his response. " I am at your mercy."

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
HYPERSPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

DEVIL IN A NEW DRESS
​

He leaned back in his seat, pulling a metallic canister from the surface of his desk, unclasping it before producing a cigar from the box, sparking it alight and placing it between his lips as she spoke, taking a long draw of the sweetened herb before his gaze shifted back to her crimson eyes. The Chiss always had a nigh...entrancing look to them, in that crimson gaze. It always fascinated him as he idly peered into the barely present irises as she spoke.

His guard did not seem to be very high, even as she continued to close the space and garner more intimacy between them, he clearly wasn't particularly worried in the slightest.

But worry and fear were long calcified in Irveric's mind, long before he ever stood as Imperator. His service to the Sith Legions necessitated this or his resolve would've slipped and he would've been executed years prior.

She told a half lie, that vengeance was only a part of it. In truth, vengeance seemed to be the sole aim of her ambitions now. Oh how he could relate deeply to it. Vengeance drove a great deal of his actions, a great deal of his violence.

He took in a deep draw of his cigar before nodding once in understanding to her request.

"You want...immunity to murder ten individuals I've never heard of, whose names I don't know...with no proof to their crimes." He'd killed for less, that was certain. But a decision like this had dire consequences. These ten could very well be political rivals to internal interests or perhaps- his very own allies. But assuming she spoke the truth, her seeking their prosecution in public, knowing well Tavlar could have inflicted justice by his own will...could prove troubling.

He'd hedged his bets so far on her. She was certainly making herself comfortable in this space, in his space. She certainly did not shy from intimacy and closeness. If anything, she was far more vulnerable to him than the contrary. Her body language and mannerisms spelled that out clearly, that there was a drive in what she desired.

His gaze seemed to warm if only slightly before he spoke up once more.

"The ISB will track your targets, your movements...and verify the validity of your claims. Should it all line up...the New Imperial Order is not favorable to the morally corrupt. Justice will be done." Tavlar replied, seemingly indulging her request if only with alterations to the agreement.

"But from now on...you are Imperial." He said, ashing the cigar out in a nearby tray before slowly standing himself up before her, offering a brief appraisal of her figure once more before his gaze locked with her frigid crimson eyes.

"Something tells me that isn't all you've come to speak to me about." He remarked.

Orika

 

[Orika]

SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
HYPERSPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

​

Noticeably contented, Orika moved a hand to her neck, rolling it slowly as her eyes fluttered closed while he spoke. She halted at his calling her Imperial, giving a soft chuckle before nodding. A wide grin has spread upon her face, satisfied with such a thing to a degree. However, the man was not incorrect in assuming she had more to speak of. It was a simple stipulation, really.

She leaned closer to the man, entirely closing the distance between the two as her hand moved to just beyond his chest and whatever might be covering it. Her fingertip extended to press against his form with her next words, adding emphasis to their meaning. The entire lack of reservations this woman had was truly astonishing,

"I will agree to such a term. Imperial. I suppose it is not the worst thing I've been. On a singular condition, and in fact the reason I sought you out directly. I will serve only you. If I am to pledge my loyalties, it will be to you alone." She then trailed her carefully polished nail down just slightly before withdrawing her hand with a small sigh out, her eyes following the motion. "I have judged you, and your merit, and have determined you more than worthy."

That deep glare of hers flicked back up to his own, her expression serious and resolved. "If you command me to obey whatever superiors I am assigned to, I will do so. If you tell me to capture, to kill, I will do so." Full lips remained slightly parted, her stare moving from his lips back to his eyes. This action alone held every bit of suggestion to it that her next sentence happened to include. "If you simply require company, I will hear your words without judgement or question. You might consider me a valuable soldier, or even a tool no different than the saber that rests on your desk. Either way, I do not care. I will train like every other agent, I will be the perfect operator for your cause, but I will do so because you have granted me everything I require to enact my vengeance by making me Imperial. Then, when it is over, we both can determine whether I should depart or remain. Till then, I am more than happy to be your weapon."

Once again, the woman tugged her lip between her teeth, remaining perfectly still, drawing out a moment of silent contemplation before leaning back on the desk, her arms settled behind her to hold her body up.

"If you should break this deal on account of my mission, my vow is void, and we will be on separate sides of the field. I do not take well to my loyalty being betrayed. Something I'm sure you can relate to." She flashed a quick grin, relaxing her form as she waited for his response.

"Are these terms satisfactory, my Imperator?" She purred out, her smoky voice barely a whisper.

Irveric Tavlar

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
SOVEREIGN-CLASS STAR DREADNOUGHT, 'NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR'
RECONSTITUTED SEVENTH FLEET
HYPERSPACE
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER

She was a truly enigmatic soul, even in how clear she seemingly made her intent to him. She held little to no restraint in invading his space in the slightest. It was a harsh contrast to most any interaction he'd had with anyone else...aside from Lyra. Everyone else had encountered him with a level of restraint, stiffness. After all, he was an abrasive and to some, an intimidating man. It was a presence he'd had to maintain in his position for nearly two decades as a military leader. As much as he'd adapted to it, crucifying his weaker emotional tendencies in favor of strengthened resolve and discipline.

It made him an effective leader but ultimately, a deeply vulnerable man past the steely exterior.

His expression seemed to warm to her continued advances, that deathly serious gaze fading to something more...human.

As she lingered closer to him, he reached a hand out, his crimson cybernetic to slowly and carefully grasp her chin in that metallic hand. It was a cold, heavy touch but even so, the sensory feedback was advanced enough to allow him to feel her as if it was his own flesh and bone.

"Why?" He asked simply. Though many had committed themselves to the government he'd led, the nation he'd built. None had expressed loyalty to him, certainly not in this manner.

"Why do you give yourself to me- like this..." He inquired, arching a brow to her, eventually easing closer to her with another step as he appraised her innate curious skepticism.

"I can't say it aligns with any other vow of loyalty...or service." He remarked, that cold military composure eroding down with those words. He seemed much more vulnerable now than he did in the command bridge not moments before.

"Regardless...I accept your conditions." He concluded, his gaze intently remaining fixed on her fiery crimson eyes.

Orika

 

[Orika]

D E S P E R A D O

​

A soft giggle bubbled out from her, her ruby lips parting into a genuine grin. There was a small dimple in her cheek, a noticeable little quirk to her expression that added a sense of sweetness to her more fiery disposition.

"Did I not state it clearly? You, are worthy of such a thing. Humans are an inherently corruptible species. Whether it be through ambition, greed, or desire..." Orika glanced him over pointedly at that last bit. "For the majority, they are fragile. Easy to break and manipulate however one might wish if they want to badly enough." She then turned her gaze right back to him. Behind the forward confidence and sensual air of the woman, something darker rested in her eyes. An almost inhibited sense of danger, one that slept until called upon.

"You are not like the majority." She wanted him, and everything from her expression to her body language made that fact abundantly clear. His past, his future, whatever stories had been hidden behind that now crumbled mechanical exterior he so carefully maintained. He had seen first hand the shadiest part of the world, and he had survived it, conquered it even. There was a strength in that fact that was all the more enticing to the elusive woman.

She then flattened her hand against his chest where she had once pointed. "You see the world as it is. Dirty, tainted, but not without it's worth. You're realistic, and that appeals to me. I would not serve someone with honey-coated ideals. In conclusion, I'm glad you accept. I believe you and I can help one another in ways that officers and soldiers cannot. And if I'm right about you, you want someone that might better understand your intricacies beyond the formal façade. I don't care about things like empires or great causes, I want to know you."

At those last words she simply stared in silence, awaiting his reaction, her crimson glare hovering slightly closed. There was an almost palpable tension in the air. Yes, she had little care for personal space, a formality that she found more a hinderance than anything else. Preferring the intimacy that touch could provide, a connection between two people that went beyond words, she was never hesitant to extend her hand.

"I want something more than chasing ghosts. A man like you might show me that." She then removed her hand, leaning back against the desk once more. "Then again, I could be wrong, but I rarely am."

Irveric Tavlar