Drink Up Me Hearties Yo-Ho!

[Caid Centurion]

FIV Adjudicator
Sanctuary Pipeline
Near First Order-Galactic Alliance Border

"I will return to Endelaan when I deem it to be necessary, Captain. If the Clans are in distress, then it is to be handled in accordance with our customs."

The Captain of Caid's Guard on Endelaan was probably one of ten people with access to any one of a handful of holocom transceivers located on the planet. However, as the planet itself was so distant from any hyperlane and, therefore, access to the holonet, messages were generally delayed by several days. This did not present a sweeping problem as Caid placed his trust in an exceedingly capable Regent during his time away, that of his cousin and the former Queen, Nessarose deWinter. Her refusal to accept a new mate was a driving reason behind her removal from the throne. Rather than banish her into obscurity or kill her per custom, Caid had offered mercy and the right for her to continue as her blood demanded, in the service of Endelaan. "The Princess Regent can reach out to me with her concerns directly in the future, Captain. Your place is merely to keep the Warriors in line."

After deactivating the recording function, Caid dispatched the message with a rotating encryption algorithm. No sooner had he finished his task than a red light began blinking on his desk, indicating the Captain of the Adjudicator was attempting to contact him. Depressing a button on the holocom console, Caid sat rigid in his seat, hood of his cloak pulled low over his silver-green eyes. "Commodore."

"Lord Ren. We've picked up an active distress call just down the Pipeline. It's originating from just over the border with the Galactic Alliance..."

If there was one thing Caid truly was not, it was a savior...or a knight in shining armor. However, his practice kept him from giving much indication of his indifference. "Galactic Alliance territory." The statement, however, dripped with irritation. "Why are you on my holocom about a distress call from inside Galactic Alliance space?"

"Forgive me, Mi'lord. There are standing orders from the Minister herself. All distress signals within range are to be investigated."

"I rather doubt that applies to distress signals emanating from the territory of a nation we are presently at war with, Commodore."

There was only a slight pause. "Are you concerned about the ability of a First Order Task Force to perform during a brief foray barely inside of enemy territory."

Oh good. He's brave. That'll make the justification of killing him much easier. "I suppose the next part of this call is to gently remind me that I, technically, do not exercise military command over this vessel or any other?"

Another pause. "I would never be so crude, Lord Ren. You represent the Supreme Leader and, as such, I do not deign to go against the Will of the Supreme Leader. However, I do believe the Supreme Leader has placed a similar degree of trust in the Grand Moff and her direct advisors. I have no intention of presuming to have the insight to decide between the two - that is why I have presented the situation to you for your expert opinion."

That was a little much. Waving a dismissive hand, Caid rolled his eyes slightly. "Bring us within range of long-range weapons. Ensure the Interdictor initiates the field immediately upon reversion."

The Commodore brightened slightly. "As you command, Lord Ren."

The holocom went dead as Caid lightly drummed his fingers on the desk. No doubt the Commodore thought himself absolved of all decisions. The man had probably even recorded the conversation. This created a problem in covering up the entire incident. It would require silencing the entire bridge crew and wiping the data logs.

Maybe not so complicated.

In less than ten minutes the two Executrix-class Star Destroyers and Assimilator-class Interdictor initiated the microjump towards Alliance space.

-------------------------
Six Hours Later

Caid had just emerged from the refresher after a training session and workout when the Adjudicator reverted back to realspace. The sound of klaxons going off filled his cabin and the rest of the ship. The Commodore had ordered the crew to General Quarters prior to the reversion, and Caid could practically feel the vessel being brought to full power on all generators as it hummed towards the distress call's point of origin.

No sooner had Caid finished getting dressed than an audible beep sounded from the room communicator. Obviously, the Commodore didn't have the time to initiate a holocom call. Depressing a button, Caid spoke simply. "Speak."

"Lord Ren. You might want to come see this. Initial IFF probes received a spoofed return recorded during an earlier incident in the Panatha system. The vessel is wanted for piracy...among other things."

Caid's gaze briefly shifted to the tactical display on the large screen above his desk. The display didn't give a wealth of information, but he could plainly see that the Task Force had shifted into the initial stages of an assault formation. "Well then. Looks like your humanitarian inclinations just might pay off, Commodore. Disable the vessel and order it to prepare to receive a representative."

"A representative?"

"Just do it, Commodore."

"As you wish, Lord Ren." Seconds later, the Commodore ordered the vessels brought into ion engagement range as long range turbolasers targeted propulsion systems. Tractor beams would follow once they were close enough.

[member="Blackthorne"]

 

[Blackthorne]

Well, no one was suspecting a First Order Insurrection within Alliance space. The Harrowbane had its sensors aimed in Alliance direction as it fled the scene of yet another plundered caravan. Lo and behold, it found itself most expertly ambushed.

"Orders, Captain?" Kiin was at the helm while Blackthorne was busy in the cargo bay directing the crew as it sorted their latest bounty.

They were caught in interdiction lines of several vessels and damn near surrounded. Short of blowing everyone out of the great black beyond by poking the seething maelstrom that was the Harrowbane's reactor, there was little to be done for it. Now they wanted to sent a Representative.

"What does that even mean?" Blackthorne scowled as she ordered a crate of ship parts one their way to Ceto over to the area designated for the next station stop. This wasn't a situation you sent a Representative in. This was a situation you filled comms with the orders of PREPARE TO BE BOARDED.

This was the situation where they were finally caught, or so she believed.

So what the feth?

"They didn't exactly say...Captain."

Helpful...

"Get Ihmoen down here. We'll receive this Representative in the cargo bay."

The Representative would find themselves disembarking into a bay filled with crates and piles of looted supplies. Stashes of durasteel components, tech and weaponry, and a host of pirate crew spanning as many races as a man had fingers and toes.

Blackthorne stood atop a grated catwalk overhead with her red-skinned Dathomirian companion standing beside her. The woman handed him a datachip as she watched this First Order Rep stride into view, "You know what to do if it sinks."

"Aye, Captain."

She patted his chest and strode by, making her way down the stairway, "Welcome aboard the Harrowbane Mister...?"

 

[Caid Centurion]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Caid was dressed in a definitively simple manner; black pants and a moisture-wicking grey shirt underneath a black cloak. However, unlike his typical appearance when interacting with the overwhelming majority of the First Order, the hood of Caid's cloak was pulled back from his head.

As the Sith Lord stepped onboard the Harrowbane, his silver-green eyes slowly scanned his surroundings. Eventually, they settled on the form of a woman descending a set of stairs. "Centurion." No need for a fancy alias, he once again only resorted to such a thing when interacting with First Order personnel. Clearly - they were the ones he was most concerned about continuing to keep at arms distance. Besides, a simple surname would yield a great many potential results in a galaxy such as this. Cameron used it extensively, and there would no doubt be a wealth of information about the former Republic Supreme Commander named Centurion.

Caid presumed that the curious woman approaching him was in charge. "The Panathan authorities have registered this vessel as being part of a theft and similarly charged its entire crew with multiple statutes."

The Sith Lord paused only briefly.

"But you know that," he assumed really. Or perhaps it was disarmament by way of flattery? Most likely he just didn't care. Caid obviously was not there to make an arrest. The Zambranos could deal with their own problems. A thin smile slowly touched Caid's lips. "We are both presently somewhere we should not be, so you have two choices. Be destroyed or accompany me back to my vessel and the rest of your crew will be permitted to depart the area before the Alliance arrives and things get really interesting."

 

[Blackthorne]

"The Panathan authorities have registered this vessel as being part of a theft and similarly charged its entire crew with multiple statutes. But you know that."

"No idea what you're talking about mate," Dahl leaned against a nearby crate and idly inspected her nails, looking up with a sneer that said otherwise.

"We are both presently somewhere we should not be, so you have two choices. Be destroyed or accompany me back to my vessel and the rest of your crew will be permitted to depart the area before the Alliance arrives and things get really interesting."

Interesting choices.

"Well, I'm fairly certain that I do not speak for myself when I say that getting blown to smithereens isn't on my list of things to do for the day," she glanced around at her crew, pools of acid scaling the myriad faces surrounding them. Most of her crew had signed on with the understanding that their untimely end was a likely result of their work. Piracy was, after all, a high risk-high reward sort of career. Given the nature of their rewards and the ... abundance of them lately, none of them were particularly keen to see this ship evaporated in the middle of space.

"So let me make sure I have this clear," the Captain pushed off from the crates and began stalking towards the man, "I go with you all by me onesie while my ship and crew are allowed to leave in one piece - no attachments, scruples, or fine print to be had."

"And I am joining you for ... what? Tea? Testimony? Torture? Interrogation? All of the above but not necessarily in that order?"

 

[Caid Centurion]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Caid's bright gaze remained focused on the woman as she spoke. When she glanced around at the rest of her crew, Caid did not follow suit. The crew, this vessel, they meant quite literally nothing to him. Truthfully, the woman before him didn't yet mean anything to him either. However, he was keen to have a conversation about her activities throughout the galaxy. The Sith Lord fully expected this conversation to be executed in rather general terms.

As Dhal approached Caid and began her queries, Caid's large frame rose and fell steadily to his measured, casual breathing. Whatever hint of a smile had appeared on his lips mere moments before had completely neutralized to a flat expression by the time he responded to the woman. Raising his arms to indicate the ship around him, Caid's silver-green gaze focused intently on Dhal's eyes. "Given your current predicament, I think it's safe to say you are joining me for just about whatever I desire."

Lowering his arms back to his side, the Sith Lord turned, retreating back towards the airlock to board his transport once more. "You can settle your thoughts on whatever it is you desire, I do not care."

Naturally, Caid's words did not indicate when the woman would be released...or even if she would be released. The Sith had not asked for any identification, not even so much as a name. He did not care. Not in that precise moment. What he did care about, however, was the woman's other successes throughout the galaxy. There was no intent to turn her over to Zambrano, but he might yet have use of a pirate acquaintance.

 

[Blackthorne]

"Given your current predicament, I think it's safe to say you are joining me for just about whatever I desire."

Blackthorne's expression brightened momentarily before wilting, just slightly, in a pause of reconsideration.

"Well," she began, casual shrug in accompaniment as she moved to follow him onto his shuttle, "sounds like a plum time to me, mate."

Could be worse. He could be a Starweird. Now those frakkers were freaky.

Cool as a cucumber in an igloo on Hoth she strode up the boarding ramp, coming up short to throw a hairy glare at the crew to "Mind the ship," and a short glance up at Ihmoen before disappearing inside. A seat was found and taken - the Captain was comfortable with one leg crossed over the other in short order. All she needed was a set of handcuffs and this trip would be positively scintillating.


[member="Caid Centurion"]

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid did not offer the woman much in the way of a response as they boarded the shuttle. Once they were aboard, Caid actually left Dhal alone to make a short trip to the cockpit. "Take us back to the Adjudicator. Inform the Commodore that he is to make preparations to depart the system immediately." The spacecraft commander didn't choose to get involved in the minutiae, simply relaying the instructions.

Making his way back to the main cabin, Caid took a seat across from the woman, silver-green gaze sliding slowly over her frame. The transit was less than ten minutes. The Sith Lord spent it in silence, never once diverting his gaze from the woman opposite him. What would be the point? There was nothing else to look at, and he preferred to keep his awareness focused on the greatest threat. At the moment, that was Dhal.

Once the shuttle had touched down, Caid came to his feet and pulled the hood of his cloak over his head. "Follow me." Stepping down the loading ramp, the Sith Lord didn't seem to have an issue showing the woman his back. In truth, his senses were very attuned to what was happening around him. Bright eyes immediately found the Commodore on the hangar deck with four armed men. Caid had no intention of stopping to even address the man.

The Commodore figured on this response from the Ren, so he stepped into the larger man's path. "Thank you for delivering the prisoner, Lord Ren. Unfortunately I cannot author---"

As the Commodore's voice caught in his throat and he began choking from some unseen force, Caid exhaled slowly. Casually, he stepped forward to whisper into the man's ear. "You are important to the Supreme Leader's cause, Commodore. You will die by my own hand only when it is ordered. Your subordinates, however, easily replaced. For every time you go against my directives, one of them will die. This will be the first and only time we have this conversation."

Stepping back slightly, Caid released his hold of the Commodore just as the hilt of his lightsaber was in his hand. The silver blade ignited with a snap-hiss as the Sith Lord was already initiating the strike to the nearest trooper. The man's head was severed immediately. The moment the energy had left contact with the trooper's body, it was deactivated and Caid stowed the hilt once more. When he spoke, his voice had returned to a normal volume. "Return us to our patrol route, Commodore."

Soft footfalls echoed against the durasteel deck as Caid resumed his casual progress towards the hangar's exit, never once checking to see if Dhal was following.

[member="Blackthorne"]

 

[Blackthorne]

Blackthorne watched the proceedings with the same poised detachment a cat might watch a barking dog far out of reach. Casual, even, given the manner in which a sigh escaped the woman and her attention briefly turned to taking in her surroundings. Assessing structures and nearby crafts, counting faces, bodies, droids, defense emplacements, an abrupt bat of her eyes at the ignition of the plasma-blade, rolling heads.

"Hm," brows lifted, a smirk appeared on her lips at the crumpled body. He fell funny.

Wasn't quite what she'd been expecting, but given her only run-in with the Order thus far had been pilfering ships from the Panathan fleet, Dahl wasn't entirely set on what to expect. [member="Maleagant"]'s summary of their obsession over order and militant gains seemed apt, but he apparently left out the part concerning the rogue Sith amidst their numbers throwing lightsaber wrenches into the works. Intriguing, to say the least.

"Nice ship," she uttered to the Commodore as she stalked by, taking a moment to toe the helmeted head now lolling several feet away and punting it back towards him with the heel of her boot like the armored, fleshy soccer ball that it was.

She followed the hooded man, but not at a particularly close distance. Green eyes lingered here and there, studying the route as they walked. At certain times it was necessary to share space - lifts being one such place. The Captain was complacent to remain silent so long as her host did, far more interested in the ship itself. In comparison to the Harrowbane [nearly a respectable 500m] this craft was massive in scale and engineered completely unlike the 'Bane. Indicative of its militial purpose, it had very little in the way of decor. Straight lines, sharp corners, and impeccably posh portraits of notable Order commanders lining an impossibly long hall.

Having fallen behind by a dozen yards or so, Blackthorne came to a pause before the portrait of a rather boorish looking man in crisp uniform. Cleanly shaven with a hooked nose and close-set eyes, she though he bore a close resemblance to bird. Not in a flattering way, either. Dahl found herself stroking her own nose absently as she peered at the painting.

It was missing something.

 

[Caid Centurion]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Caid's footsteps ceased to echo lightly around him as he sensed that his guest had stopped. Turning his head, he regarded the woman for a moment before turning his body completely. If there was one thing that the Sith Lord was not, it was in a rush. At present, it would take time for the vessel to even return to First Order space. Outside of that, it would take even longer before it was truly within range of a location that Caid cared to disembark upon. He'd thought about how the woman would get back to her vessel. Surely she is capable enough.

After several moments of simply watching the woman, his hands clasped behind his back. The Sith Lord allowed his thoughts to reach out to her mind until he spoke directly into her mind. It wasn't the typical overbearing weight of his full presence, having learned to control such methods of communication during his extended time sequestered on Endelaan. Apparently, it had been a talent his father taught his cousin quite some time ago. She was happy to extend the favor to Caid. So are you a fan of white uniforms or old men? There was no real inflection of a joke to the communication. We have plenty of both for you to sate yourself with in any case.

 

[Blackthorne]

Me? I'm not the one with a ship full of their likeness.

Came the candid reply over a broad, fang-filled grin.

But they are charming ... sort of.

The same finger that rubbed at her nose faintly moved to stroke along the top of her upper lip, eyes casting off along this wall of old men in white uniforms. That's what was missing. But not yet ... later...

She sniffed, finger moving to tap at the smirk left behind. So, he could use telepathy - that was promising. Dahl slowly drew away from her musings and the stuffy portraits to join her host once more, green eyes sliding over him again with faint curiosity.

"White wouldn't look half bad on you."

There was most definitely a double entendre in that statement.

 

[Caid Centurion]

[member="Blackthorne"]

Caid's gaze shifted from the woman to the portraits along the wall as she returned to his side. "Haughty honorifics to equally supercilious individuals." Unlike most Sith, Caid saw little reason to erect monuments to anyone's greatness. He believed in only that which served a strategic or tactical purpose of some sort. Even on Endelaan, there were no statues to the warriors and sorceresses of the past. He rather certainly would not accept such a blight on their society.

As his gaze tracked back to the pirate, Caid held the woman's gaze for just a moment. Slowly, a mischievous smirk slipped over the exposed features of his face, but he did not say anything. Instead, the Sith turned and continued on their trek down the corridor. It was only a few moments before they had entered into a corridor that maintained the cabins of support staff for an embarked Fleet Commander. At present, there was not one embarked on the Adjudicator, so the rooms were empty.

Arriving at the end of the corridor, they made one more turn towards a large wooden door that marked the entry to the outer office area of the expansive cabin afforded to an embarked Fleet Commander - the room Caid had acquired for himself. After palming open the door, the Sith Lord stepped inside and pulled back the hood of his cloak. "Have a seat," he intoned as he motioned to a large leather couch.

Tossing his cloak over the back of one of the chairs opposite the sofa, the Sith Lord settled his large frame into the next chair. The short-sleeved gray shirt that adorned his upper body made the full-sleeve tattoo on his right arm partially visible as he leaned into the cushions of the seat. "What is your name?"

 

[Blackthorne]

"Thank you," a return to the offer of a seat, a brief and wily smile, Blackthorne remained standing and began slowly moving about the room. Green eyes inspected its contents with curiosity, roving across decor and appliance alike. In finding a particularly tall ornamental lamp the woman strode around it, fingers lightly tapping at the shade.

"Oh, Blackthorne," stated with the simplicity of as if Caid had asked her what color her hair was or if she breathed oxygen, "sorry," she leaned to look at him from around the lamp, "I'm sure you were expecting something ... more."

A brow batted at him, she flicked a section of black hair behind her shoulder and strode off towards a side table set beneath the windows, walking her fingers along the back of the couch as she went.

"You can always head it off with Captain if it helps it roll off your tongue better."

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid watched the alluring woman with mild interest. His attentions were more the result of a desire to study her movements, the way her muscles acted when she made even the most subtle of movements. This was a result of his life-long combat training, routinely sizing up friend and foe alike from a tactical perspective. That did not, however, mean he failed to listen to the woman's words.

"Captain Blackthorne..." It sounded awkward on his tongue, like a holovid character. Coming to his feet, Caid walked towards the woman. Once he'd drawn to within two feet of the front of her body, he stopped, gazing down at her with curiosity. "Well, Captain. I suppose to some extent you are curious as to why I brought you here." Perhaps she wasn't, but that was pretty irrelevant to the fact she was here.

The Sith took another step forward, effectively closing what little distance still remained between them. "I require your assistance in locating someone...a wayward family member, if you will. Her name is Amorella Mae Darke."

[member="Blackthorne"]

 

[Blackthorne]

The Pirate remained standing in a state of amused, transfixed defiance to the man's imposing stature and presence, momentarily reminded of her Beast Tamer trials and staring down the hulking brute of a zakkeg. Her lips twisted upwards into a half smile, mirth growing in those mooney eyes until it spilled out in a laugh.

"You're joking, right?"

"Have you tried typing her name into a holonet search? I don't suppose being the name of the dead Sovereign of Kuat's daughter means anything to you. They were both killed during the Omega attack. Unless of course you mean some other woman named Amorella Mae Darke, I'm sure there's at least one more in the entire galaxy. Pirate might not be your best bet for tracking down a pebble in an asteroid field."

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid's expression remained flat throughout the woman's...revealing retort. If the Sith Lord stripped away the useless parts of the woman's response, he was able to reveal some amount of worthwhile knowledge. "No, I am not."

Inhaling steadily, Caid maintained his serious gaze in [member="Blackthorne"]'s direction. "However, in your very quick retort, you indicate much more than just a simple awareness of the woman's existence. Unless it is a hobby of yours to track the life and death of the abundance of royalty littering this galaxy? Or perhaps you just have an eidetic memory? In either case, you are very clearly an exceptional person for the actual task."

As Caid fell silent, he casually made his way towards his desk. Opening a drawer, the Sith Lord withdrew a single datapad. "Further more, the conditions of your crew and vessel being permitted to depart unharmed are not open for any level of debate." Raising his gaze to find Blackthorne once more, the Sith Lord returned to her with the datapad. After entering an activation code, he extended it towards her. For sure - Caid had several other entities engaged in the investigation, and it was all too likely they would turn up something on their own in rather short order. "These are surveillance stills from a recent encounter between the Galactic Alliance and First Order. I need you to find out who the armored individual, standing opposite a man formerly known as Cameron Centurion, is."

On the datapad, Blackthorne would find three images. There was no indicated time stamp or location information, but it was effectively three images from two different surveillance feeds in the corridor of what appeared to be a space station of some kind. The cameras were placed at what would be just above eye level for an individual of average height. The first image clearly showed a large, cloaked figure holding a crimson-blade sword opposite a shorter, armored individual with his back to the camera. The second image showed the same scene from a different angle, with the front of the armored figure more clearly displayed. The third was the precise same image but with a curiously dim figure bearing a definitive likeness to one Amorella Mae Darke.

A pebble in an asteroid field. Accurate. Caid just did not precisely care.

 

[Blackthorne]

"I do my research into companies I conduct business with, the KDY being the most recent, as it were. Pays to know who you're working with," green eyes coolly watched the man stalk across the room, "but I'm sure you already know that."

Wasn't a stretch at all to consider some short research into the Kuat Drive Yards. The Omega Invasion was still fresh on the minds of the Kuati and in the tabloids. Feth, the planet was still in the process of recovering from the excessive damages caused in the collapse and destruction of the Drive Yards. The death of the Sovereign, the disappearance of her Heiress Cerusia Darke and the death of her daughter and ex-heiress Amorella Mae hadn't exactly been swept under the rug. Kuat's people had enjoyed many years of healthy prosperity, economical growth and assured security under the careful reign of Lorelei Darke. Many, so far as the tabloids had said, were still in mourning despite the planet returning to rule by an Aristocratic Council.

She took the datapad with a sigh and gave it a considering glance, swiping through the images presented with faint curiosity.

Cameron Centurion. Now there was a name she knew, though she'd never met the man. Her mother hadn't made a great deal of effort to involve the extended family with her own kin, though Amore had been an exception to the norm for just about everyone. Dahldesa could remember the woman with great clarity; kind, caring, effeminate, and sickeningly good at remembering everything. The only one that had an eidetic memory here was the woman in question. Cameron, however, had been a name mentioned within the annals of the Pillar of Knowledge and one she'd overheard her parents discussing on more than one occasion.

"If I didn't know any better," the Pirate commented while looking up at Caid, "I'd say the former was standing right in front of me."

She smirked. The resemblance was ... uncanny.

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid's attention to [member="Blackthorne"]'s explanation about her knowledge and ability to recall said knowledge of Lorelei and Amorella rather immediately was superficial at best. As was often the case in most incidents of social discourse, the true message lay not in spoken words but the subtle emotions and body language that accompanied the words. The Sith Lord was not really one to rely solely on assumptions, but he did believe in intuition, analysis. For the Captain's part, she did not exactly do anything to hint at any real level of deception and her words did make sense.

However, Caid was happy to move on. He blinked slowly as he permitted himself a steady inhale and exhale. "Yes, well. He was my father." The Sith took another step closer to the Captain though they were already easily within arms reach. In his father's personal records, Caid had recently discovered a lot, but the man had lived several lifetimes. Sifting through what was meaningful took time. The one archive he'd not yet uncovered, however, were records from his time as the Pillar of Strength. Records secured in one of the many subterranean vaults of his father's mountain fortress on Corstris.

The silence that followed Caid's statement ended somewhat abruptly as he snatched the datapad out of the Captain's hands and tossed against a nearby wall, causing the device to shatter on impact. "Forget the images and this mystery figure."

Turning from Blackthorne, Caid retreated to one of the chairs in the room and took a seat on the left arm. Silver-green eyes returned to Blackthorne in that instance. "My father is dead because of his obsession over one person, and his inability to appropriately handle her death." Caid had no real way of knowing that for sure, but this simple interaction with Blackthorne had demonstrated how ridiculous this entire investigation truly was. The man was dead, gone.

A smirk settled onto his lips, realizing he had very nearly marched down the exact same path of Cameron. For nothing. "Where are you from, Captain Blackthorne?"

 

[Blackthorne]

"Yes, well. He was my father."

You don't say. The smirk remained and so did the Captain. Content to hold her composure as the datapad slipped from her fingers and sailed across the room to decorate the floor with all manner of electric components. Green eyes fluttered briefly, fingers curling around empty air within them before finding some place better to be such as her hip and chin.

Curious. Had she struck a nerve? Must be an inherited trait. The smirk broadened, peeling upwards into her eyes as a show of cheeky mirth.

It was at that precise moment in time that Dahldesa Shamalain decided she liked the man, despite how snarky he sounded when calling her by her title. These things could be overlooked.

"Onderon," the most direct answer out of the woman of the entire evening. The Captain finally left her spot to take up the proffered seat on the couch where she sunk in with all the comfort of a coy, sprawling cat, "it's not quite Corstris but Lord Ashmedai liked it enough to visit my mother there on occasion."

 

[Caid Centurion]

Caid's gaze followed Blackthorne as she relocated to the seat he had originally offered. Shifting his body position on the arm of the chair such that he was facing the woman directly opposite him, the Sith's eyes went from holding casual interest to intrigue and finally settling on rolling altogether. "It's literally impossible to go half a day without meeting a female that knew Cameron on a...personal level."

Pausing for a moment, Caid narrowed his eyes slightly. "Wait. We're not...you know blood or anything, are we?" As Caid had yet to uncover the information from the Pillar of Strength annals, he hadn't yet put together that the woman known to him as Blackthorne was actually the daughter of Quietus and technically a relation of his by marriage of his father to her...great aunt? Family trees were complicated.

[member="Blackthorne"]

 

[Blackthorne]

"Uff, that's a good eye roll you got there," Blackthorne watched him amusedly, crossing one leg over the other and allowing her hands to settle on the couch cushions at either side of her, "you must practice it a lot."

"Don't get your Imperial knickers in a twist, I never met him personally. And no," the woman strummed her fingers along the cushions, sharpened nails carving marks in the sueded material, "we are not blood. He married what was my grandaunt and they never produced a child because she was barren. Considering both their deaths, I'd hardly call us related at all except by isolated circumstance."

She peered at her left hand and casually examined her nails, "although I wasn't aware of his death until now. That was a surprise. Pity. Shame."