Best Keep It Straight

[Valencia Hadley]

Location: The City of Aroo, Manda
Tag: [member="Darth Metus"]

​

She kept her head bowed as she continued to struggle with that anger, seeing what it had cost him those years ago and knowing what it cost him now to think on it - it was hard not let that anger manifest itself in her. It wasn't often that she let these sorts of stories of hardship affect her so wholly and so quickly, but something about having him in her mind had made it all matter so much more... It was hard to think past the rage that was building in her chest and it felt just as real to her as it must have to him. It was suffocating.

It all stilled as his hands left her's and encircled her, however. His grip around her waist lifting her to sit up as he leaned down and pressed his lips to her hair. The anger that had built in her chest seemed to lift and disperse like all that ash on the wind, leaving a calm in its place that felt much more like herself. She let loose a shaky sigh as she felt his fingers along the underside of her jaw, her head tilting up as she returned his offered kiss with that same gentle energy. When she leaned back a bit she offered him a tired smile as she lifted one hand to gently rest against the side of his face, her palm warm from having been clutching at his hands.

"I'm sorry... I'm not sure what that was all about. It's not my place to be taking all that anger, not when you were the one that liv-" she caught herself, offering another of those tired smiles. "Not when you're the one that survived it." She glanced up as she lifted her hand to trace her fingers across his hair and bring her hand to rest against his shoulder. "I hope you can see that you're not alone, as well as feeling it, Metus." She gently rested her forehead against his for a brief moment before she extracted herself from his arms and pushed herself to her feet.

She turned instead and claimed one of his knees, taking a seat and reaching across to collect her datapad from the seat she'd vacated. Her hands danced across the screen once more before she tucked it neatly into her lap and turned her attention back to the Vicelord. "Well - trusting that we likely don't want to stay on that topic for both your sanity and by extension mine; what would you like to do with your day, Vicelord? As previously stated, I'm at your disposal, as are the resources of Manda." Her smile was kinder than it was playful this time around, but still, she had eyes only for him.

 

[Malok]

Location: The City of Aroo, Manda​

Tag: [member="Valencia Hadley"]​

I'm sorry…

Though her lips had departed from his own, the warmth yet lingered. Her touch upon his cheek was the definition of comfort - a testament to the truth that he had uttered a moment ago. Though he had only known the woman before his burning gaze only a smathering of hours, the Sith did not feel...alone. There were very few moments in his recent history where he could honestly say as much. And most notably, the only person who made him feel remotely whole was his alabaster apprentice - Srina. But what he felt towards the Echani and what bubbled within his chest for the Viceroy were two different typhoons. With Valencia, a part of him that had slumbered for decades had begun to stir. And with each passing moment, the word fancied did not seem to do the pristine woman justice.

As Valencia composed herself, Darth Metus offered a smile to match the tired one which had claimed her features. "I disagree...I think, if there was something that caused your grief, I would feel your anger as my own as well. You've managed to sneak your way close, Valencia." his tone was alive with bemusement - an attempt to lighten the mood given how they had literally stared into the face of death only moments prior. And, as the Viceroy stood to her feet and righted her mind, the Sith rolled his shoulders back. Both made meager attempts to put the flames out of their mind, and the Viceroy was the first to suggest physically, and literally, moving on with their day. A slight chuckle escaped the Sith before he tapped his chin slightly.

"I had read a report about Manda's efforts to be...environmentally conscious before coming here yesterday." he began, formulating an itinerary of sorts. "There was this lovely, beautiful Viceroy who made it a point to institute green zones throughout the city. And one was conveniently placed a few buildings over. At the very top, no less. One might even think it was the Viceroy's personal escape when the office became too crowded." He offered a wide grin as he jumped to conclusions. "Anyway. From what I hear, the rooftop garden is more of a grove these days. And there is an Atrisian teashop atop it. Perhaps we could go there and spend the afternoon?"

---

The simpler times died shortly thereafter.

In the span of a few short days, the budding relationship between the Vicelord and his special councillor was tested. Not by the typical trials of any fraternization, but rather by the literal fires of war. Eshan had become the epicenter of the Confederacy's efforts - for liberating the world from the clutches of the Mandalorians became the top priority. The southern systems knew victory in this noble aspiration, but it came at a cost of affections being placed on the back burner. Now, in the wake of too many after-action sessions in the Viceroyalty, Darth Metus finally pulled Valencia aside. Not to pour over datapads and reports. Not to discuss supply lines and the needs of Eshan. Not to pulse the approval ratings. But for them.

They had a moment, briefly, during the beach-centric excursion in recent history. But even that was fleeting. An appetizer to a greater need. The hour was mid-morning when the Sith called. The Viceroy would find that her schedule, which had been booked solid, had been overriden quite thoroughly. Every meeting had been delegated to someone else - namely her deputy-Viceroy or one of the Ministers themselves. In their place, the public record showed that she was working on a special project with the Vicelord. Something regarding a public works project focused on Geonosis as to better boost morale following such a large, foreign operation. In truth, this "plan" was one of the many things that Valencia had prepared in advance. She had a folder's worth of these that could be implemented at any moment.

And so, this time, they would meet in his office. Not to plan, not to work, but to breathe.

Compared to the modern aesthetic of Valencia's office on Aroo, Darth Metus' was a reflection of his deep and storied heritage. A resinwood desk - hewn from a tree native to Mandalore - was the centerpiece of the room. Advancing forth from it was a long, crimson rug adorned with a variety of bold symbols. Valencia would not yet recognize the Sith runes deliberately woven into the material, but she would feel a sense of security upon entering - as if whatever was said here would die upon the walls before prying ears could listen. A fireplace roared across the room, complete with a pair of seats and the pelt of a strange beast as the rug. And upon the walls hung a number of paintings. Armored men. Some Mandalorian. Some otherwise. Leaning upon the edge of his desk was Darth Metus himself, dressed in his usual, semi-formal attire.

And waiting for her were two glasses and a crystal vessel filled with Idlewil.

 

[Valencia Hadley]

Location: The office of [member="Darth Metus"], Genosis

​

Eshan felt like it had been a lifetime ago, and yet there was a piece of her that still stood on that hardpacked earth, watching it all unfold. Some piece of the Viceroy hadn't made it off that foreign planet, and she had been doing her best to pretend that it wasn't a loss she felt with every breath she took. Outwardly there was no difference, it wasn't like she'd left an arm or a pound of flesh behind, but something inside of her chest felt heavier. Thankfully it was a weight that no one but her seemed able to feel - so it had made putting a good face on everything seem simple. She still cleaned up well enough, and when her schedule had been unceremoniously cleared without notice, she was ready.

She'd arrived on Genosis in the early afternoon, and she attended to her summons immediately. There hadn't been a call that required her to enter the Vicelord's personal office in the past, but as she stepped passed the threshold and let her eyes wander across the interior, she could see why it was that he had asked for some assistance with decorating. It's not like it was terrible, but it certainly wasn't homey, nor overly inviting. It spoke to the power that the CIS could wield, and that flair for the dramatic was strong in every line, each colour choice, and radiated from the rugs to the ceilings. It wasn't unpleasant, but she imaged that it would be draining having to spend long hours in here if the topic was one that was stressful... And she assumed they often were.

She strode easily along the plush red carpet, curious about the runes etched into the thick fabric, but keeping her eyes on the man who leaned at ease against the desk that sat at the end of it. He wore something a bit less formal than when she'd last spent time in an office with him, though as she'd been coming on the pretense of her role as adviser to the Vicelord, she hadn't been afforded the same luxury. She'd chosen a dress that would not betray the reasoning behind her attendance in the capital, but would still allow her relative comfort is she ended up staying in the office for a prolonged period of time. Coupled with a pair of cream coloured heels that sank ever so slightly into the carpet as she strode towards him, she looked the picture of professional while not forcing herself into the gown she'd worn when they first met.

As she passed the fire on her way towards the desk, she slowed a moment, sparing the flames a glance before she continued on. There was something comforting about that heat and she hoped that with some time they may retire to sit beside it. But for now, there were other things to attend to. As she approached him, she offered one of those smiles she loved so much, all pearly white teeth and dimples as she took up a spot against the desk beside him, resting her hands so that her fingers curled around the lip of the dark wood, and she perched on the top. "You weren't kidding about your sense of style... Did droids honestly decorate this for you?"

She lifted one hand, motioning with immaculately manicured nails to the office around them, "I don't hate it, mind you. Just a little grand for my tastes, perhaps." She turned to smile up at him before glancing over her shoulder at the glasses that sat on the desk. "Round two then?"

 

[Malok]

His gaze burned upon her.

Darth Metus found that, when he tried to keep a neutral expression, there were times when he failed miserably but was unaware. This day, as the Viceroy of Manda graced him with her presence, was one such occasion. As the pristine woman stepped within the confines of his workspace, each step seemed to light up the room more so than the fireplace itself. Typically, her effortless charm and beauty were what drew the Sith's eyes first. But when his gaze swept up and down her form, he was not appreciating the way her attire fit her in all the right ways. Nor was he noting the way her hips moved in such a way that he wouldn't mind being caught staring. No, this time, he was checking for obvious signs of harm. He knew that she had been on Eshan. He knew that she had been in harm's way. And, as he did not emerge unscathed, concern wormed within his stomach that she had met a similar fate.

Yet as she joined him at his desk, remarking upon the decor as she walked, relief wormed its way into the Sith's tense expression. He could not see anything out of place with the woman. No burns. Scars. Not even any signs of fatigue (not that she would ever let any survive the makeup brush). By all accounts, his special counsel was whole. And Darth Metus released a breath he did not realize he had pent up. For the first time in what felt like a small eternity, his lips began to curve into a smile and he reached for one of the glasses, offering its pre-filled form to her. "Round two...Force above knows I haven't had a decent drink in awhile." he began, before motioning his chin in the general direction of the decor. "I warned you didn't I? I waarned you." His exaggerated speech was punctuated by low chuckles.

His dominant hand found and raised his own beverage to his lips. The sting of the liquor matched the sting of his arm as it accomplished the motion. By now, he had learned to ignore the pain; but the twitch of his chin was enough to denote that he wasn't able to ignore it completely at times. Valencia was as observant as he was as well; it wouldn't evade her notice, but he would certainly pretend that it did. Upon lowering the glass from his mouth, he faced the woman and settled his gaze upon hers. "Valencia." he breathed, relief yet invading his speech. "I was worried sick, I'm so glad you're alright." The admission was a touch heavier than he cared to admit, but given the fact that he took a Star Destroyer to the face, he was fine with giving himself a free pass.

"I...Well, there was something I wanted to talk to you about. Frankly, there are a lot of things, but, this one came to mind first." He punctuated his words with a sip of the Idlewil; this time he grunted in response to the pain, but played it off as if the liquor was just really good going down. "When I offered you this role, I had anticipated that there would be combat. That there would be risks. But I never foresaw Eshan - so I wanted to start by saying, I'm sorry for putting you in the middle of a literal warzone like that. Please forgive me."

[member="Valencia Hadley"]

 

[Valencia Hadley]

​

He was a fool if he thought he could get anything passed the Viceroy, even if he was doing his best to play it off as a really fantastic drink. As she reclined against the edge of his desk at his side, the empty glass clasped between her hands, she could see every bit of pain etched into the soft crinkling at the edges of his eyes each time he moved or the fatigue that was writ in every line of his body. The Vicelord wasn't in the best shape - and though she ached to tell him that she could see if easily, she held off. He knew what her gifts were... He'd been able to spot them long before even she had been aware of them. He'd know she'd seen it just from the way her eyes lingered on where his shirt hid the injury and the way her smile faltered at the edges when he moved too quickly or was foolish enough to try and use the arm to drink.

Instead, she moved her eyes to sweep the room, landing on the plush red carpet beneath their feet, "It's not all a tragedy at least. There are certainly some pieces we can work with. When you had to excuse yourself early from your trip to Manda, I was able to get some inventory of items before I was called to join you. There should be some pieces that can tie this... Aesthetic together." She dragged her eyes away from the rug to turn, just as he turned towards her, but instead, she continued to turn and grabbed the bottle off the desk instead. She didn't fill the glass quite as full as she had when they'd first enjoyed this particular drink together - but still enough for her to enjoy the flavour.

She then turned back to him, lifting the glass to her lips as her eyes found his, taking a drink and then setting it down on the desk beside her. Those clear blue eyes of hers regarded him carefully, a touch more guarded as she spoke, her tone conversational, "I'm not sure that you were the one that needed to be worried... I'm told that when that SD hit, it hit you. You are looking remarkably whole for someone who should be human rubble." The smile she gave at that didn't quite reach her eyes, and she felt something that had been wound tight in her chest release a touch. She immediately reached for the glass, however, and took a drink that nearly polished off what she'd poured for herself in one swallow. She didn't return her gaze to his and instead turned back to face the room as she leaned on the desk.

"You have nothing to apologize for. I shudder to think what could have happened to the city had you not been there... And I was..." A soft sigh escaped her as her head bowed forward, her free hand lifting to pinch the bridge of her nose tightly, the hand grasping the tumbler pressing the cool glass to her chest as she took a moment to gather her thoughts. "You tell me that I have some small gift with the Force... I need to be stronger if I'm going to truly be able to help people." She released her nose and turned a very tired smile to the Vicelord, this one easily reaching her eyes as she lifted her now free hand to push her hair back from her face.

"I will be more useful to you and to the Confederacy if I am stronger - and if it's okay with you, I'd like to spend some time working on that instead of..." Her voice trailed off at that thought. Was it what she really wanted? Perhaps not - but it was what she believed she would need to be okay. If she could have done more to help on Eshan, perhaps that ache in her chest wouldn't still feel like it was going to swallow her alive most days. "Instead of dessert."

[member="Darth Metus"]

​

 

[Malok]

Location: Sinner's Well, Ryloth​

Tag: [member="Valencia Hadley"]​

I will be more useful to you and to the Confederacy if I am stronger.

There was never a moment of waste when it came to the former Viceroy. Never an instant where her words did not matter. Never a second where her time was wasted. When she spoke, especially in the wake of the Hell that was Eshan, it did one well to listen. On that day, months ago, when the Vicelord finally returned to her - her desire was to grow all the more. Already, she was a master of all things political. She could navigate negotiations and any other interplanetary venture with ease. But when it came to surviving falling Destroyers or besting adversaries in combat, she was woefully unprepared. Yet, the gift rested just beneath the surface. Darth Metus could see it. Hell, any with the gift of perception could see the Wildfire of her potential.

Thus, when she made her request, the Vicelord moved mountains to fulfill it. At first, this required placing the world of Manda in the care of its Deputy Viceroy for the indefinite future. Her development in the Force was not something that a time table could be put on, for each and every soul grew at a different rate. For someone like Srina Talon, the Force came naturally - for she had a foundation of professional combat training to fall back on. Yet for others, such as the Sith's first apprentice Marek, a civilian lifestyle made development a touch slower. How quickly Valencia would rise to his challenges would depend upon just how much effort she was willing to put forth - and just how willing she was to cast herself into the abyss.

The demands of state saw fit to prevent Darth Metus from being as hands-on with her training as he would have liked. The Mission to Kuat, for example, had seen him delve back into the ocean of international warfare. As a result, the Sith would not leave Valencia in the cold with no direction. Nor would he relegate her tutelage to holograms or the gatekeepers of holocrons. For a time, he commissioned one of his finest disciples to shoulder the burden of introducing her to the most basic understandings of the Force. And, upon the second his duties waned in intensity, the Vicelord resumed that which he had promised the woman.

Thus, he had called her to the exterior of Sinner's Well: his personal residence. There were few within the Confederacy who knew of the fortress' existence. Fewer still who knew the exact coordinates and had the means to enter. This day, the former Viceroy of Manda would join that select few. The hour was early morning. The sun was just beginning to make its ascension into the heavens, and thereby bathed the desolate wastes with pale illumination. The sole source of beauty in this particular corner of Ryloth was the sky - for nothing save rock formations and sands existed here. This day, the Vicelord stood with his back turned to his fortress. They had walked together from the frontmost entrance to this spot in relative quiet...

And Darth Metus theorized it was because of how much they had changed in their time apart. Since the wake of Eshan, a new adversary had wormed her way into the Sith's daily life. A literal god who demanded tribute by way of his warlike tendencies. As one devoted to not being the plaything of the gods, his daily moments were devoted to the study of the past. He was hoping to uncover some truth. Some trump card that could sway his sordid situation to his favor. But for now, he had no choice but to play along. Even now, he could feel the quiet leech of his aggression through the Force. Feeding. Sustaining. In light of this, there was a persistent tension upon his shoulders - even when standing in the presence of one as cherished as Valencia.

Conversely, the former Viceroy seemed to have taken to the path he laid out for her quite avidly. She had modified her locks of hair quite staggeringly by shaving off one side...and though it was different, it still turned his head all the same. But beyond the cosmetics, he could feel how the fire of her potential had grown. She had leagues to go - but she was closer now than ever before. After a few more moments of walking in silence, Darth Metus ceased his advance and turned to face her. "You've grown, quite a bit since I last saw you." he began, offering a light smile. "From here on, I'll personally see to the rest of your progress."

His hands clasped together. "Now, tell me, when you think of a Sith Lord, what immediately comes to mind. Don't overthink it, of course. Just tell me the first thing." There was always a method to his madness - and in this case, Valencia had only to answer in order to see.

 

[Valencia Hadley]

​

[member="Darth Metus"]​

​

​

The invitation had been unexpected, honestly. It had been months since she'd so much as caught wind of the Vicelord. Between training with the stand-in Master's that he'd supplied in a steady stream, and the many calls that his station had him running to, she was surprised he had found the time to invite her to Ryloth at all.

The conversation she'd had with [member="Cayde"] had been a short one, as was his nature - a simple direction that she was to attend to the Sith's business on the planet she knew to be his home away from Genosis. With that the bit of information her teacher had departed and left her with no avenue to inquire further, and no indication of when she may see him again. The whole situation had been as equally strange as her summons to Sinner's Well.

The former Viceroy was no stranger to sunrises - they were a constant companion to her in the years she'd spent scrambling up the political ladder to finally reach the heights she had. Early mornings were some of her favourite times, even after the last few months of dawn heralding long days of training. The stillness that dawn invoked was a comfort to her, now and hopefully always. Standing at the gate to Sinner's Well, watching as the familiar figure clad in clothing she knew for him signified comfort and utility more than presentation, Valencia had been relishing those moments of calm. He was just as impressive here as he had always been... She couldn't help the small smile that tugged at one side of her mouth as he motioned for her to join him as he walked away from the fortress at his back.

They walked in silence for a time, the soft sounds of their breathing the only accompaniment to the gentle crush of sand beneath their feet. It felt like the handful of mornings they'd spent in comfortable silence in her office, the Vicelord enjoying his morning caf and looking over his datapad while she attending to preparing she schedule to allow for time away from Manda... Neither of them knew then, how much time that would be. Though that was hardly his fault. If anything, he'd been the catalyst to show her the path she walked now - providing her with the means to bring purpose to the death and suffering she'd witnessed at his invitation to join him on Eshan.

Her eyes were distant then, as they continued on, thinking back to the horrors of that morning - not dissimilar to the one that was dawning before them. As it had time and time again following that day, Metus' voice called her back to herself, back to the dusty landscape before them, bathed in the warm morning light. She noted that he had stopped a pace or two behind, and she turned to face him, offering one of those kind smiles that came to her so easily when he was with her. The shine of it died as he spoke however, hearing what it was he had to ask of her.

Months... It had been months. Perhaps she'd been the epitome of naive to think of it as more than a few weeks of amazing company and evenings of... extracurricular activities. There was a soft flush she could feel crawling up her chest and neck, aiming to burn her cheeks, and she quelled in with just a touch of the energy she'd been learning to harness. A cold calm radiated over her as she spoke to him, her voice even and absent of that sweet tone she had loved to use on him so much.

"Yourself, Metus. The Exarchs." She turned those icy blue eyes to the horizon where the sun was lifting, already full and shining in the distance.

 

[Malok]

Location: Sinner's Well, Exterior​

Tag: [member="Valencia Hadley"]​

Time...had changed some things.

But, there was still so much that remained the same. Though many days had spanned since they last had the pleasure of one another's company, the former Viceroy was still herself. Each step she took upon the dusty sands of Ryloth were alive with purpose. Each brimmed with a quiet grace that told the story of her steady rise upon the political ladder. Nothing was out of place. Everything seemed to just...flow when it came to Valencia Hadley. It mattered not how much her aesthetics had changed during the exposition of her training, she was still the pinnacle of grace in the eyes of a certain Sith Lord. Moreover...when he spoke, the smile that greeted him..

Radiance. Plain and simple. They had shared many moments such as this. Quiet seconds that punctuated the demands of their stations. After evenings spent getting to know just how much of the covers they would steal, daylight would always provide a snapshot of the morning. As sunlight would filter through the glass of her office windows, the Sith would always burn the first smile of the day into his memory. With hair spilled over his arm, her lips would curve and the sweet expression of happiness warmed him to the core. It set the whole day up right. And, while it had been literal months since he had seen a morning smile, this moment felt like nothing had changed.

It was an impossibility for Darth Metus not to allow his lips to curve into a smile. After all, he was with one of his favorite souls among the stars. However. As was the case with the demands of their office, time was precious. And as the inquiry fell from his lips, Valencia's response was devoid of the sweetness he had come to expect from her. It was professional - uttered as a student would her mentor. Long strides broke the distance between the Sith and the former politician. At first, he spoke no words to confirm or deny the validity of her response. Rather, he tilted his countenance slightly as to avoid her hair and settled his lips upon her brow briefly.

There would be time for more...but for the moment, it was okay for her to remember that he wasn't Cayde or any of the standin tutors assigned to put her through the paces. He was the same man who had cultivated a taste for Idlewil simply due to getting to know her. After lingering for but a moment, he righted himself and reached for his utility belt. There, she would notice the one armament he never left home without. Typically, it was hidden within the confines of his suit jackets if he were dressed for the affairs of state. But, otherwise, it hung from his belt in the open - a fact she would know more than most.

He then placed the weapon in her grasp. "You're not wrong in your assessment." he began, offering a small chuckle. "Generally, the first thing that comes to mind for those who do not personally know a Sith Lord...is their lightsaber. Unlike the Jedi, it is the color of devastation. Unlike the Obsidians, it is the color of blood. While intimidating, this is not something done simply for aesthetics. There is power in the saber - power in the way it is created. And, as your first step as my student, you will be creating your own. Now."

His thoughts were punctuated by a return to his belt. This time, he produced a storm blue crystal that was approximately the size of her thumb. She would sense that the stone was brimming with the Force. However, the saber in her hands would feel no different than her master. If not for it being cool metal within her grasp, her senses would be led to believe that he had laid his hand in hers. The weapon was, quite literally, an extension of the Sith who wielded it. Darth Metus offered the crystal to her, nodding.

"Jedi typically accept their crystals from nature the way they are. They form a...symbiotic relationship with their crystal and adapt its natural talents into the final product. We Sith however...we dominate our crystals. Break them. Bid them to serve our purposes and to assume the shape we dictate. The way to do this is by focusing the deepest, darkest parts of your being upon the crystal. In doing so, it will weep. It will bleed. This is how our lightsabers gain their bloodshine hue."

"My challenge to you..." He paused, only to retrieve his weapon from her grasp. "Is to close your eyes. You have been taught to meditate - so focus your thoughts upon the crystal. Focus on your pain. Your hurt. Your worries. Fears. All that draws you closer to the Dark Side. And feed them to the crystal." A final pause as the task lingered in the air. He didn't have to say it, for she would know this to be true. Yet his gaze spoke for itself: I believe in you.