Private Echoes of Forgotten Thrones

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Old Manufacturing Hub, Ferrix
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad.
Tag: Mesmerelda

The shadows of Ferrix stretched long across the cobbled streets as the sun began its descent, painting the sky with streaks of crimson and gold. The air carried the scent of machinery and burnt fuel, remnants of the planet's industrial soul. Ferrix was a world of stubborn resilience, where survival was its own art form, and where the galaxy's more subtle battles played out in forgotten alleys and sprawling scrapyards.

Reicher Vax stood in the shadow of a towering, rust-stained structure that had once been a manufacturing hub. Now it served as a clandestine meeting point, far from the prying eyes of those who might interfere. His Sith Legion armor was polished but purposefully understated, the crimson glow of his visor dimmed to a soft ember. The markings of the old Sith Empire were still visible, though weathered by years of wear and war. He carried himself with the quiet discipline of a soldier, his vibroblade sheathed at his side and a datapad clutched in his gloved hand.

This meeting was unlike the others. Mesmerelda was no mercenary, no hardened warrior of the galaxy's endless wars. She was royalty from Raxus Secundus, a planet steeped in history and privilege, and her decision to step away from that life intrigued Reicher. The mission he was proposing was as much about testing her mettle as it was about achieving their goal: exploring a forgotten section of the Outer Rim, rumored to hold ancient ruins predating even the Republic's golden age. Such a venture required more than brute force—it required diplomacy, knowledge, and finesse. Qualities he suspected Mesmerelda possessed in abundance.

Reicher glanced at the datapad, reviewing the details of the expedition. The ruins were buried deep within an uncharted jungle world, its atmosphere hostile and its terrain treacherous. It was the kind of mission that could unite disparate talents—soldiers, scholars, explorers—and remind the galaxy of its shared history, a purpose Reicher had come to cherish in these fractured times.

His squad of Legionnaires waited nearby, blending into the shadows with the ease of veterans. They were a stark contrast to the mechanical, industrial backdrop of Ferrix, their presence a silent assurance of safety and efficiency. Reicher's orders to them had been clear: remain unobtrusive, but be ready to act at a moment's notice. This was neutral ground, but trust was a currency too often betrayed in the galaxy.

As he waited, Reicher's thoughts wandered. The galaxy was a vast, chaotic web of alliances and betrayals, empires and republics, but it was also a place of discovery, of forgotten knowledge waiting to be unearthed. That was why he was here. To find something more—something that transcended the endless cycle of power and destruction that had defined his life in the Legion.

​

 

[Mesmerelda]

TAG: Reicher Vax

---

Mesmerelda had boared a Public Transport that had taken her from her home, Raxus Secundus. A world she had only ever known, to take her to a world that could not be more the antithesis. She had made a contact with someone her Father would not approve of, a Sith Trooper, named Reicher Vax . Making contact was not easy for a Princess, she knew if she was to explore the galaxy she needed someone with survivalist skills, and a keen sense of defense. In other words she needed a knight. She could not contact the Jedi, who would be the normal choice of escort, because then would ask many quesitons and discern that she had made these plans behind her Father's back. Deception was not allowed for Jedi, at least not in this manner, and so she had to find another. Her knowledge base on the Sith was very.. academic. She knew of the Rule of Two, and some infamous Darths, and some smattering about the dark side. The Force, while she had to admit there was something holding the galaxy together, it was in same way tearing it apart, in all her years she never had anyone test her sensitivity. And the little things she could do she kept to her self, such a levitating a comb to her hand.

As the Great Transport arrived on Ferrix, The Princess arose in her disguise, a cloak of gray and black, rather Sith like by design. All her ornmanets, jewlery and royal garbe unearneth, concealed so that no attention would be drawn to her. Only her braided locks broke the threshold of her hood, and her tiara of gold with its great Sapphire of her House could be seen only when light breached beneath the covering. She could not forgo her crown, it was part of who she was. Another thing which she concealed, slung in the fold of her side, and moving with the cape unseen was a Weapon, a Sword forged of Phrik ore, which like its cousin Beskar was able to withstand the laser swords of the Force Users. All around her were a sea of faces, many of them in humble garbe, some bright green skin Rodians with those eyes like honeycombs that never blinked, others more exotic, like the Tail headed ladies that were called Twi'leks, a pair of them, twins were consorting with a man whose intentions seemed rather carnal in nature.

Stepping out across the deck of the ship on to the space port ground that was rusted and covered marks from all the hauling of heavy crates. There were little droids skipping across the ground, beeping and flashing their blue and red lights. Walking very softly and slowly, Mesmerelda began to look for her contact, for the Sith who would be her guide and champion. In turn she promised to help him with her talents, which was related in their correspondence. This place was far cry from her beautiful world, it was dirty, full of dust, and the sound of grinding metal, and the sounds of street people peddling their trade.. it was glorious! So different from anything she had ever seen, she became lost for a moment in this grungy local, walking up to a stand that was selling some meat on a stick, she took a wiff of it, as the grill of dark metal steamed and gave off the smells of spices, and grease. She lifting her gloved had ordered one of the Kebab like dishes, and began to eat, the meat so succulent and tasty, not like the dinners her Matroness had her eat.. including the morning raw egg in a crystal glass.. disgusting!

Standing she kept searching for him, contemplating if they did not rendezvous what she would do? She had a handul of credits, and the gold and preicious gems on her person, nothing more, nothing less. She could not part with them unless absolutely necessary, and she shuddered to think of what trade she would have to pick up here if she did not find the Trooper. Still that uncertainty was thrilling. For most of her life everything had been planned for her, from the moment she woke to when she went to sleep. This was a chance for once to have some dominion over her day, to make her own choices without someone orchastrating everything. That was what made the little meal she was eating taste all the more delicious, it was not the time of day when she was required to eat, this meal was when she wanted to consume something. The feeling of having some control over her life was intoxicating! She was finally free of her royal cage, ready to brave the galaxy with her Sith Companion.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Old Manufacturing Hub, Ferrix
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad.
Tag: Mesmerelda

The clamor of Ferrix's bustling streets filled the air, the industrial symphony of grinding metal and hurried voices carrying a familiar rhythm. Reicher Vax stood at the edge of the crowded docking bay, his posture disciplined and his visor scanning the ebb and flow of the arriving passengers. Ferrix was no stranger to outsiders, but the woman he awaited would be unmistakable—a figure who, despite her attempts to blend in, could not fully mask the grace and refinement that came with her upbringing.

Then, he saw her.

The figure moving through the crowd wore a gray and black cloak, its folds concealing much of her identity. But there was an unmistakable air about her—a certain poise, a measured step, and just a hint of awe as she took in the gritty world around her. Even from a distance, Reicher could see the faint glint of something golden beneath her hood, catching the light at just the right angle. Her crown, he thought with a twinge of bemusement. She couldn't leave it behind, could she?

He activated the communicator built into his helmet, sending a quick signal to his waiting squad. <Eyes on the target. Maintain positions but stay alert.>

Reicher began moving toward her, weaving through the sea of pedestrians with practiced ease. He noted how she paused by a vendor, her gloved hand delicately lifting a skewer of grilled meat as she sampled the local fare. The sight of a woman born into royalty embracing the grit of Ferrix's streets was oddly endearing, though he'd never admit it aloud. It spoke of her determination to experience life beyond the confines of her gilded palace.

As he approached, he let the glow of his visor brighten just enough to catch her attention. When her eyes met his, he offered a subtle nod, his demeanor calm but commanding.

"Mesmerelda," he said, his modulated voice carrying easily over the din of the street. "You've made quite the entrance. Welcome to Ferrix."

He stopped a few paces away, allowing her to finish her meal without intruding too much into her space. The crimson glow of his visor flickered briefly as his scanners verified her identity, but his words were far more personal.

"You blend in well," he continued, a faint hint of dry humor in his tone. "Though the crown might've been better left on Raxus Secundus. It does little to help you disappear."

Reicher gestured toward the towering structure in the distance where his squad was stationed. "I've arranged a secure location for us to discuss the mission. Ferrix is... colorful, but not without its dangers."

He inclined his head slightly, a gesture of respect rather than submission. "Whenever you're ready, we'll talk about what lies ahead. But first, I imagine you have questions. Let's hear them."

His posture remained neutral, his hands resting at his sides, but his presence exuded the calm authority of a seasoned soldier. This was no idle conversation; this was the start of something far greater than either of them could fully grasp. And Reicher Vax, for all his cynicism, was determined to see it through.

​

 

[Mesmerelda]

The Princess did not have to wait long, she was almost finished with her stick of meats when she was approached by one in Shining Red Armor, addressing her by her namesake, and bidding her welcome.

She gave a nod,
"Thank you. We meet at last Reicher, after all our correspondences, now we are face to face."

His comments on her attempts to look less regal save for the tiara made her smile,
"This old thing I could not part with.. it was a gift from my dear Ma Ma."
As she spoke of her Mother, a tear shed and her eyes flashed red as blood, making one child nearby that was with a parent startle.

At his assurance of a secure haven for them, she gave a nod, though when he mentioned danger, she responded,
"Danger.. the very word stirs in me a thrill! Though I am sensible enough to know it is best we mitigate the chances of harm, something I depend upon you for in this arrangement."

Regarding a line of inquiry, she said,
"I think it is best we relocate to your secure location." Looking into the crowd she sensed something, or someone, and she did not feel it was safe to speak on such things. "Then when we are there, you can brief me on your plans and I can ask questions."

She then offering her hand to him, the white glove wrinkling at the wrist. He was Trooper, and in his armor he was as chevalier to her. That she had found his handle on the Dark Network seemed auspicious, or in the very least serendipitous. Getting involved with the Sith would no doubt make her Father furious. Fraxus Secundus was as of yet not plunged into the wars between the Space Wizards, as her Pa Pa called them. It was his disdain for the Monks and the Warlocks that made Mesmerelda hide her abilities, only her Ladies in Waiting knew of her powers that she had yet to fully embrace, at least in her Regal State.. she could not speak of the Twilight Self, as she had come to call it, her Ladies mentioning that she was in that state a formidable fighter, and spoke in a tongue unlike the one she did as a Princess. This distemper as they came to call it seemed to come when she was grievous, and any memory of what happens in the Twilight State was beyond her ability to access. So The Princess had her own secret, that she knew had a chance of being revealed in this place, in this intrigue and adventure. She chose not to care, she wanted to live and stop being so afraid...

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Old Manufacturing Hub, Ferrix
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad.
Tag: Mesmerelda

Reicher regarded the princess carefully as she spoke, noting the subtle shifts in her demeanor. Her regal poise was ever-present, but the fleeting moment when her eyes flashed red hinted at something far deeper—a mystery he hadn't fully accounted for. The child's startled reaction didn't escape him either, nor did the way Mesmerelda quickly composed herself. This was no ordinary royal, and that realization only made him more cautious.

When she extended her gloved hand, Reicher hesitated for the briefest of moments, a soldier's instinct cautioning him against unnecessary vulnerability. But then, in a gesture both calculated and genuine, he took her hand in his armored gauntlet. The contrast between her delicate glove and his cold, unyielding armor was striking—an unspoken reminder of the vastly different worlds they came from.

"Very well," he said, his voice modulated but steady. "We'll move quickly. Ferrix doesn't wait for those who linger."

He released her hand and gestured for her to follow, his posture shifting into a protective stance as he led the way through the bustling streets. The towering structure he had pointed out earlier loomed ahead, its rusted exterior blending seamlessly into Ferrix's industrial sprawl. The building was an old maintenance depot, long abandoned and now repurposed by Reicher's squad. It was secure, inconspicuous, and perfect for their needs.

As they walked, Reicher's squad emerged from the shadows to form a loose perimeter around them, their movements silent and disciplined. They were veterans, hardened by countless skirmishes, but their presence wasn't overtly threatening—just enough to deter any would-be troublemakers.

They reached the depot's reinforced doors, which slid open with a mechanical groan. Inside, the dim lighting of the maintenance depot cast long shadows across the walls, the faint hum of concealed machinery blending into Ferrix's ambient noise. Reicher's steps echoed in the vast, hollow space as he led Mesmerelda deeper into the building. The interior was unassuming at first glance—abandoned crates, rusted machinery, and walls streaked with grease and age.

Reicher stopped near a nondescript section of the floor, where a large, rusted platform sat under the guise of a loading dock. He gestured for Mesmerelda to step aside momentarily as he knelt down, pressing his gloved hand against a concealed panel in the floor. A faint click followed by a low hum filled the air as the false platform shifted slightly, revealing a hidden stairwell descending into darkness.

"This way," Reicher said simply, his voice calm but laced with authority. He descended first, his armored boots clanging softly against the metal steps. The narrow passage was illuminated by faint crimson lights that lined the walls, their glow casting an eerie ambiance that contrasted with the industrial grime above.

(Credit)

As they descended, the air grew cooler, the faint hum of power conduits becoming more distinct. The stairwell opened into a hidden base—an unmistakable remnant of Sith engineering. The room was larger than expected, its walls reinforced with dark steel and faintly etched with ancient Sith script. The lighting was sparse but purposeful, but now with a nice white lighting highlighting key areas of the base.

Workstations lined one side of the room, manned by Reicher's Legionnaires who worked with quiet efficiency. Maps of the Outer Rim were displayed on holographic projectors, their surfaces littered with notes and markers. A central table dominated the space, its top a large, interactive tactical map that displayed their mission objectives and current intel.

On another side of the room, several lockers and weapons racks were neatly arranged, stocked with vibroblades, blasters, and survival gear. Despite the utilitarian setup, there was an undeniable air of discipline and readiness—a hallmark of Reicher's leadership.

Reicher stepped aside, allowing Mesmerelda to take in the scene. "Welcome to our true sanctuary," he said, his tone still formal but with a slight edge of pride. "This was once an outpost for Sith operatives, long abandoned until we repurposed it. Now, it's our base of operations—secure, hidden, and fully functional."

​

 

[Mesmerelda]

He took her hand, a gesture of a gentlemen, though wither he knew it was not certain to her. They made their way to the Building, when a retinue of his guard came out with weapons poised, none of them pointing at her, their visors fixing on the alley way, and in directions from which they might need to tend to threats. Once inside, Reicher Vax uncovered a hidden panel, and pressing it, a stairway into shadows emerged. The Princess following her knight in red armor down below, where she found a room full of technology, test tubes, and screens. She examining it all leaned her head, her long braided tails swaying out from her hood as she looked at something in a container.

Turning to Reicher she said,
"Sanctuary. Intriguing name for an outpost." Her attention was now solely fixed on him as she sat down in a chair with wheels and crossed her legs beneath her long cloak.
"I suppose now is as good of a time as any to discuss the plan and ask my questions. First, I want to say that as I stated in our correspondence, I do not want my father to be privy to my involvement in these schemes."
The idea of her consorting with Sith would cause her Father are cardiovascular event, and knowing that she was no longer on Raxus Secundus would make him preform a search. Thankfully, one of her ladies in waiting was a remarkable likeness to her, and she had trained the girl to mimic her pattern of speech, syntax, and tone. The Handmaiden had agreed to this on pain of death, not that Mesmerelda would have her executed, that was so "uncivilized," rather she needed her to have some fear to complete her task of impersonation. This would buy them some time, though not long, for her Father would be able to discern it was not her.

After a pause she continued with terms,
"Secondly, I wish to have a proactive hand in this work. I did not leave Raxus to remain as I was, sheltered and above tasks. I want to contribute to the effort. That is non-negotiable."
It was an ironic paradox that what she was requesting was to be like everyone else, and yet the way in which she demanded this was no doubt from regal sense of being granted what she wanted.
"If these terms are agreeable, then I would like to hear the Plan."
She shifting in her seat, her tiara visible beneath the floor light that was upon her. The process she was hoping to undergo, to become not a Damsel in Distress was going to take a lot of work. So ingrained was her royal privilege that she scarcely saw how she commanded even when she made requests. As if she expected to receive an affirmative every time. That would change, it had to, if she was to survive...

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Old Manufacturing Hub, Ferrix
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade,Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad.
Tag: Mesmerelda

Reicher stood motionless, a sentinel of quiet authority as Mesmerelda spoke, his polished armor reflecting the cold light of the command center. His crimson visor betrayed no emotion, yet behind it, his sharp eyes assessed her every word, every nuance of her tone. She exuded a natural grace, her movements poised and deliberate, but Reicher could see beyond the royal airs. Beneath the refined exterior, there was something far less delicate—something resolved. Her voice carried a quiet determination, like the measured steps of someone who had decided long ago that retreat was not an option. This was not the whim of a pampered princess; this was conviction wrapped in satin and jewels.

When she finished, he let the silence linger deliberately. It wasn't the sort of silence that invited hesitation; it was heavy, deliberate—a pause that forced consideration. The low hum of the tactical map filled the void, the holographic display flickering faintly like a heartbeat. Reicher's armored fingers tapped lightly against the edge of the console, his stance unyielding but his thoughts racing. His gaze, though concealed, rested squarely on Mesmerelda, as if trying to measure her against the task ahead.

Finally, he spoke, his voice emerging steady and deliberate, each word carefully chosen and shaped by the modulator in his helmet. "Understood," he said, the weight of his tone carrying both acknowledgment and subtle warning. "Your father will remain unaware. Discretion is a skill my team has honed to perfection, and it will serve us well. As for your involvement…" He paused, inclining his head slightly, a gesture that was both acknowledgment and challenge. "I would expect no less. You did not leave the gilded halls of Raxus Secundus just to watch from the sidelines. With an attitude like yours, you will fit right in."

He straightened, his movements fluid yet deliberate, and gestured toward the central tactical table. With a tap of his gauntleted hand, the hologram shimmered, its image resolving into a rotating model of a fractured world. Peragus II. The planet's jagged surface spun slowly, each crater and chasm a testament to catastrophic destruction. Bright markers punctuated the display, highlighting key points of interest, but the eye was drawn to a single pulsing beacon near the planet's equator. It flickered faintly, a persistent call from a world long thought dead.

"This," Reicher began, his voice carrying the gravity of the mission to come, "is Peragus II. Once, it was a thriving hub of galactic fuel production, a beacon of industry that powered the great engines of the galaxy. Now, it is little more than a graveyard. Centuries ago, greed and recklessness led to a disaster that obliterated most of the planet. The surface is a barren wasteland of craters and drifting debris, abandoned by all but the desperate and the damned."

"This was not my initial target, plans change."

He allowed the image to hang in the air for a moment, its stark desolation speaking for itself. Turning his head slightly, he regarded Mesmerelda, watching her expression for any flicker of hesitation. "But," he continued, his tone sharpening, "Peragus II holds secrets the galaxy has forgotten. Buried beneath the ruins, our intelligence points to an ancient structure—intact despite the destruction. Its origins are unclear. Its purpose, unknown. What we do know is that it predates even the Republic's golden age. This is no ordinary ruin. This is history buried in the ashes of ambition."

Reicher's hand moved again, manipulating the controls with precision. The hologram zoomed in, focusing on the beacon and revealing faint outlines of a subterranean complex hidden beneath layers of rubble. The faint glow of ancient power conduits traced paths through the structure, their purpose enigmatic but undeniable.

"This is our target," he said, his voice steady but carrying an edge of excitement that rarely surfaced. "We're not searching for trinkets or treasure. We're searching for knowledge—technology, records, anything that can illuminate the galaxy's forgotten past. And, if fortune favors us, something that can shape its future."

He stepped back slightly, his presence towering but not oppressive. His tone shifted, hardening with the realities of the task. "The journey will not be easy. The surface is unstable, riddled with tectonic shifts and volatile gas pockets that could ignite with the slightest spark. It is not just the planet that poses a threat. Illegal scavengers and corporate interests still raid what remains of Peragus. They won't take kindly to our presence, and I doubt they'll leave room for negotiation. Worst, the core hasn't been snuffed out by the dead cold space around it, scouts seem to put it down to a foreboding dark side presence on the world..."

Reicher paused, the dim light of his visor reflecting off the hologram. His words hung in the air like the faint hum of the base's machinery. When he turned back to Mesmerelda, his voice softened just enough to be sincere. "This is no gilded adventure, Mesmerelda. This is peril at its purest—a place where power and history collide with chaos and danger. You wanted to contribute. This is your chance to prove that resolve I see in you. But you must understand: the unknown offers no guarantees. Only risks, and the rewards we earn by facing them."

"Any questions?"

​

 

[Mesmerelda]

The Princess looking at the maps as he gave the briefing felt her heart begin to beat wildly in her chest, her bosom rising and falling as he breaths became more numerous. Leaning in to look at Peragus II, her eyes flickered between the lavander to the red as if they were made of Alexandrite. A smile painting her face as he said, "this is peril in its purest form." She felt herself becoming hot with excitement as she turning to him said,
"I understand.. knowledge is precious, I was taught this by my tutors. Though this means of access.. the threat of danger is.. exhilarating!"
She was behaving somewhat as Spice Junky that had gotten their fix, this Regal Lady writhing in passion display as she considered just how unknowable their fate would be. Trying to compose herself once more, she turned as she wiped her brow with her glove and said,
"The only question I have is when do we begin?"

Mesmerelda did not let the details about a Dark Side vergence, or the threat of gas pockets that could swallow them As she imagined this world, she became more ecstatic inside. The thrill of what was about to transpire already taking her, and she then said,
"I want to extend my deep appreciation for this Reicher, that you have included me on this mission. I do wonder what convinced you to agree? Most seem me as a helpless Damsel in an ivory palace."
She turned to look at specimen in a tank, the bubbles floating upward as her eyes fixed on the creature. She had wondered why she had been drawn to the dark things, to ruined, and spoiled. Was it a rebellion against her upbringing or something else? There was this place in the back of her mind, like lead, though when disturbed she felt a fire inside her rise that betrayed the tiara and her sweet continence. She had endeavored to keep it under control, though when it wanted out, it would come out and she wondered if she should tell The Trooper. She decided against it, for he might then reconsider taking her on this quest. Instead she would allow for things to reveal themselves in time, maybe nothing would trigger "The Change" as her Hand Maids had come to call it. She thought that was something to do with a woman's cycle, perhaps it was, she did not know. What she did know was she was happier than she had ever been and it was do to him, this Sith who had given her a chance to spread her wings and soar.

TAG: Reicher Vax

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Old Manufacturing Hub, Ferrix
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad.
Tag: Mesmerelda

Reicher stood silent for a moment as Mesmerelda's excitement unfolded before him, her words infused with an almost infectious energy. His crimson visor remained fixed on her, unreadable, but behind it, his mind worked with the precision of a vibroblade. Her enthusiasm was genuine, a spark he rarely saw in the galaxy of schemers, cowards, and opportunists that filled the ranks of both allies and enemies. Yet he did not share her exuberance, his own demeanor remaining calculated and composed.

When she finished speaking, he inclined his head slightly, a gesture of acknowledgment rather than condescension. His voice, cold and deliberate as always, broke the ambient hum of the command center. "Exhilaration is an apt response, Mesmerelda. The unknown holds a unique power—a call to those willing to face it. Few understand its allure, and fewer still have the courage to answer. It would seem you are among those few."

Reicher's armored fingers tapped against the edge of the tactical console as he gestured toward the rotating hologram of Peragus II. "You grasp the risks, and I have no need to lecture you on their severity. You've stepped into this knowing full well that the path ahead is treacherous. That speaks to your resolve, and I respect it." His voice softened ever so slightly, a subtle shift that carried no warmth but a kind of measured sincerity. "I chose to include you because resolve like yours is rare, even among those who claim to walk the path of power. You may have been born into privilege, but you understand its strengths and weaknesses. That, Mesmerelda, is strength."

He turned slightly, his armored boots echoing faintly on the reinforced floor as he moved toward the weapons rack along the wall. Selecting a datapad, he returned to the tactical console and placed it before her. The device displayed mission details—logistics, atmospheric data, and contingency plans. He pointed to the display with a gloved hand, his tone shifting back to its usual sharpness. "This contains all the data you'll need to prepare. We leave at first light. The shuttle is being readied as we speak, and the team will begin final checks within the hour."

Reicher straightened, his imposing frame seeming to fill the room, though his presence was more of a sentinel than a tyrant. "I won't insult your intelligence by coddling you. You've asked to stand as an equal in this endeavor, and I will hold you to that. You'll carry your share of the burden, Mesmerelda, as I will carry mine. Whatever we face on Peragus, we face together—not as ruler and soldier, but as allies." He allowed the weight of his words to linger, their gravity clear and uncompromising.

His visor tilted slightly, fixing on her as if piercing through the layers of her regal façade. "You're right to wonder why I agreed. Most would see a royal figure as a liability, but I see potential. Not just in your ability to contribute, but in your willingness to confront the unknown. That is what separates those who merely survive from those who shape the future."

Reicher paused, his tone softening again, though his cold confidence remained unwavering. "You've made your choice to leave the palace behind. Now prove it was the right one."
​

---

Reicher paused for a moment, his crimson visor casting a faint glow on the tactical console before he turned to the far end of the room. "Come," he said, his tone commanding but without malice. "There's something you'll want to see."

He gestured for Mesmerelda to follow, leading her toward a reinforced door on the far side of the hidden base. As they approached, the door slid open with a soft hiss, revealing a room illuminated by strategic overhead lighting that gleamed off meticulously arranged rows of weaponry and equipment. It was an armory, but not one of simple practicality—it was a display of preparedness, a testament to the discipline and precision that defined Reicher's leadership.

The walls were lined with racks of blasters, vibroblades, and other weapons of both Sith and Alliance design, each polished to a pristine shine. Lockers along one side of the room housed survival gear, medkits, and tactical devices, their contents organized with almost obsessive care. In the center of the room stood a long table, its surface neatly arranged with datapads, maps, and prototypes of advanced equipment. The faint hum of energy shields and repulsor technology filled the air, a subtle reminder of the power contained within these walls.

Reicher turned to Mesmerelda, gesturing toward the room with a broad sweep of his arm. "This is our armory," he said, his voice carrying a note of restrained pride. "Everything you could need for the mission is here. Weapons, armor, survival kits, rebreathers for hazardous environments, oxygen tanks with breathing masks, and more. This isn't just about surviving, It's about thriving, even in the harshest conditions."

Reicher stepped aside, motioning toward a row of lightweight body armor. The designs varied, from simple chestplates to full tactical suits. "Pick something that fits," he advised. "Protection is key, but mobility is just as important. The surface of Peragus is unstable, and you'll need to move quickly at a moment's notice, a Pilot suit might be a good idea, although if you do not require a uniform change, we can simply organize an oxygen tank and a mask."

He thought to himself, Maybe if this works out I can get her something custom made, Dominion Arms would probably give it to him for free, for his action in giving the Iol Mining Consortium rights to Polis Massa's rich mineral belts.

His gaze lingered on her for a moment, as if assessing her readiness, he spoke to her with dignity and respect about these equipment matters, acknowledging that even though she hadn't used most of the equipment before, she had the intelligence to figure it out. "You'll also find climbing gear and repulsor packs in the far locker. The terrain on Peragus is treacherous—ravines, unstable rock formations, and shifting gas pockets. We may need to traverse areas where even the most careful footing won't be enough, I am also taking a wild guess that you won't be wearing any clanky armor, you won't have any Magno-Grip equipment, so its necessary to have at least something to allow you to move with us."

"Once you have what you need we can leave, but I hope it is to your liking?" he asked, a tinge of pride in the armory escaping his cold and calculated self.

​

 

[Mesmerelda]

He gave answer to her query, that she had a resolve, that she was proving herself not to be a Damsel by throwing your crown into the ring of this perilious mission. Her eyes lingered on him as he said,"potential." It had long been since anyone believed she had any, other than the life that was chosen for her. Though his words were dispassionate in tone, her own reseviore of feeling was moving and she did her best to conceal a blush when he complimented her. She was glad that her excessive excitement was seen by him not as something to be embaressed about, rather to commend. When he offered her the datapad, she took it in her white gloved hand and gave a nod, scrolling across the information on the tiny screen she replied,
"I hope that I can live up to your praise. For as long as I know people have lauded me for my title and looks, this time I want to earn the applause."
She did not need to express to him that she was not doing this for the clapped hands of comrades, she simply wanted to make clear that she would endeavor to live up to the potential he spoke of.

---

Coming into the armory, she walking up to the rack of weapons and gear, she ran he gloved hand over it when she came to jumpsuit with mesh protection and yet it was light, and just her side. Taking her gray and black robe, she pulling it off revealed her regal dress and gems. Her pauldrons of gold with kyber of ruby hue, and her partial breast plate. She pressing a hinge, let the suite come loose. She took the chestpiece with its rings off, and said, "This will do splendidly, pardon as I change."
She took her dress off, and underneath was a silk night dress which she left on with undergarments. She took the suite leggings of gray and black and began to pull them over he white stockings, and then she began to fit the rubber and plated armor over her torso, the metal was had some red linging around the breast guards, which reminded her of her pauldron crystals. She then fit the nape rubber and kevlar. He long blond hair now fully exposed, she took a knife from the rack and cut the long back strands that fell, as she severed those locks she closed her eyes for a moment and then opening them was blood eyes, she was shedding her old self and adopting this new post. Her two braids at the front she shortened like elogated side burns at her pointed ears.

Turning in her transformation she took our Phrik Sword that she had brought with her, the blade shimmering magenta as she looked ato Reicher Vax , her eyes turning back to lavender as she held in her other hand a helm of Sith make, with a visor, a breather and oxygen take attachment.
"Were you lead I will follow, may we together plunge into the unknown and find what you seek."

The Princess no longer looked like one, her new look made her seem a Drop Shock Trooper, only the sword and her tiara were signs that she was royal. Her eyes fixing on him, the one that had given her this chance to become something more, to grow in the shadow of struggle, and become a formidable warrior that could protect her planet not with diplomacy alone, but with aggressive negotiations as well...

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Old Manufacturing Hub, Ferrix
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Oxygen tank connected to armor.
Tag: Mesmerelda

Reicher's visor scanned Mesmerelda from head to toe, taking in her transformation with a silent, almost imperceptible nod of approval. The royal trappings were gone, replaced by practical armor that spoke of purpose and resolve. The sight of her severing her long locks, a symbolic gesture of leaving her old self behind, wasn't lost on him. She was embracing the path ahead, one defined by action rather than privilege.

When she turned to face him, her phrik blade shimmering magenta and shortened hair, she was no longer the princess who had stepped off the transport on Ferrix. She was something new—unpolished, perhaps, but undeniably determined. Her words carried the weight of conviction, and for a moment, Reicher saw not the symbol of royalty she had been, but the warrior she sought to become.

He inclined his head slightly, the faintest hint of respect in the gesture. His voice, when it came, was measured and deliberate, carrying none of the warmth one might expect from such a moment, but imbued with an undeniable sincerity. "Red suits you better."

He gestured toward the equipment she now bore, the subtle glow of her sword catching the pale lighting of the armory. "You've made yourself ready for what lies ahead. The armor suits you—not just in appearance, but in what it represents. You're preparing to stand on equal footing with those who will face the dangers of Peragus alongside you. That's no small thing."

Reicher stepped toward her, his boots echoing softly against the reinforced floor. He paused just within arm's reach, his imposing figure casting a faint shadow over her as he spoke. "I trust you, I am sure it will pay off."

He turned slightly, motioning toward the exit of the armory where the faint hum of the base's machinery underscored the weight of his words. "The shuttle is ready. The team is prepared. We leave now, before the galaxy can conspire to stop us."

Reicher's visor tilted back toward her, the crimson glow reflecting faintly in her lavender eyes. "From this moment forward, there are no titles. No ranks. Only allies facing the unknown together. You've asked to join us. But know this, Mesmerelda: where we're going, there's no room for hesitation. Only action. We are a team, we act like one."

He stepped toward the exit, his posture disciplined and unyielding, his presence a silent command to follow. "Let's move. Peragus waits for no one."

As he walked ahead, the door to the armory hissed open, revealing the path to the shuttle bay. Beyond it, the dim glow of the Ferrix skyline hinted at the journey they were about to undertake—a journey into darkness, danger, and the chance to reshape their destinies. Reicher didn't look back; he trusted she would follow.

​

 

[Mesmerelda]

As he examined her, she soaked in his words of affirmation, of encouragment at this metamorphisis. Standing there at attention, her now short hair blowing as a vent came on, she felt so free, so unencumbered by the former chains of the crown. Now she held a new one in her arm, a helm ready for battle, and as he did his assessment of her, she gave a nod and said,
"I understand, comrade."
She chose this venacular in honor of the equality he was proposing, this mission was not about lords and ladies, and underlings, it was about finding secrets and working as a unit. Shedding the pomp and circumstance meant they were be more effective, and she sensed it would also draw them closer together, a new brotherhood.

At his behest to get started, she took up and helm and pulling over her head, sealed it at the neckline, her visor of red now fixing on Reicher Vax as she took her blade and as she held it to her back it magnetically affixed to it and she said,
"How convenient."
She then began to march with Reicher towards the shuttle, her each step heavier and with purpose. She looking to him to discern the best path, and how to navigate in the armor, which if she was frank did not feel strange, rather she felt rather at home inside it. She took in breaths and let them out, her heart beat elevating a little as they came to the craft. There was no turning back now, and she was glad, she would not disappoint him. This was the hour to prove herself, that she was no Damsel, but a Dame (Knight), a warrior ready for battle. All her fencing lessons she would put to use. She banished all thoughts of her Pa Pa, or Raxus, they were part of her past now, not the future. This moment was all that mattered and then the next as they checked off what was needed to make their quest viable. Mesmerelda had not idea what to expect when they got there save the maps and intel on the datapad she had clipped in a pouch on her belt. She boarding the shuttle, sat in a row of jumpseats, and pulling up the pad began to look over some things to make sure she was going in with all the information she could glean.

Her screen lit up her helm as she scrolled with her cortosis gauntlet and devoured every byte of info she could find. She had always been dutiful student, keeping her studies a priority, though this was different, the thrill of life and death made her more inclined to disseminate the intel throughout her mind. Her swiping was as if a wiper blade on a vessel in the rains, she taking in all that was in the datapad until she came to the end and powering it off. Sitting there she looked for Reicher, who she would shadow, protect, and help achieve the ambitions of this mission.

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Transport Shuttle, Orbit of Peragus
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Oxygen tank connected to armor.
Tag: Mesmerelda

Reicher sat across from Mesmerelda in the dimly lit confines of the shuttle, the hum of its engines a steady undercurrent to the tension that hung in the air. The interior was stark and utilitarian, lined with jump seats and equipment lockers. Crimson emergency lights cast a faint glow over the soldiers seated nearby, their visors tilted downward in silent preparation. The Old Guard veterans made last-minute checks of their gear, their movements precise and methodical, the confidence of hardened warriors on full display.

Reicher himself was seated with his vibroblade resting across his lap, the weapon a silent testament to the violence that awaited them. His crimson visor was fixed on Mesmerelda as she scrolled through the datapad, her focus unwavering as she absorbed every scrap of information. Her transformation into a warrior was not lost on him; it was a process he respected, one forged in resolve and necessity.

When she finally looked up, her visor catching the faint red glow of the cabin, Reicher spoke, his modulated voice calm and deliberate, carrying the tone of a seasoned commander. "You're absorbing the data well, Mesmerelda. That's good. Knowing the terrain and our objectives will keep us alive out there. And on Peragus, survival isn't a given."

He leaned slightly forward, the glow of his visor accentuating the details of the tactical display projected in the center of the shuttle. The map showed a desolate stretch of Peragus II's surface, its shattered crust pocked with craters and jagged fissures. Key locations were marked with pulsing indicators, each representing a potential challenge or point of interest.

"Our objective is here," he began, pointing to a glowing marker embedded deep within a labyrinthine series of ruins. "An ancient vault, buried beneath the surface. The data we've recovered suggests it predates the Republic's golden age. It's been hidden for centuries, but its location became known through a fragment of a star map—one we've reconstructed."

Reicher shifted his attention to another marker, closer to their designated landing zone. "Between us and the vault lies a pirate hideout. These aren't ordinary cutthroats—they've made Peragus their home, fortified their position, and likely scavenged some of the planet's more dangerous relics. Their defenses will be formidable, and they won't hesitate to kill anyone who ventures into their territory. Clearing them out is our first priority."

He tapped a control on the holographic display, zooming in on a site near the vault. A makeshift camp appeared, its structures haphazardly arranged around a central bonfire. "Once we've dealt with the pirates, we'll move on to the vault. But it won't be as simple as walking through the front door. Salvagers have set up a camp just outside. They're likely aware of the vault's existence, and if they've breached its entrance, we may face resistance from them as well. Be prepared for traps—they won't want to share whatever they've found."

Reicher leaned back slightly, his posture steady and composed despite the weight of the mission. "Our primary objective is to secure the vault and recover whatever knowledge or artifacts it contains. These could provide us with technological advancements, historical insights, or even weapons. The Sith Order doesn't know about this mission—it's off the books. Whatever we find could shift the balance of power in ways they haven't considered."

The shuttle jolted slightly as it flew closer to Peragus II, the faint tremor a reminder of the planet's volatile nature. Reicher's visor tilted toward the viewport, where the cracked and lifeless surface of Peragus loomed below. "Final checks, everyone," he ordered, his voice carrying the authority of a man who had led troops through countless battles. "We land in five."

He turned back to Mesmerelda, his posture unyielding but not dismissive. "Stay close, follow my lead, and trust yourself. The unknown awaits, and we will meet it head-on."

​

 

[Mesmerelda]

Pirates.. did he say pirates?! Mesmerelda coukd hardly contain her excitment, her boot tapping the floor as she tried to control this impulse, and then could no longer.
"Pirates! I have always wanted to encounter them!"
She realizing that she had gotten carried away, tried to restore her composure, her mask concealing the blushes on her face.
"I mean.. we shall neutralize them and hit the vault. Do you intend an assault or.."
Her mind began to click like a clocks pieces as she considered,
"What if.. I have an idea! I arrive at their hideout dressed in pompery, distract their attention and perhaps get as parlay, if they fails you can send them to a shallow grave in space."
Already fresh from Raxus and she was throwing caution into the wind and making herself the very center of the conflict. She had never been among vagabonds, she had no clue what exactly she was was risking, pirates were known for being.. violent and cruel, and they treated women folk as property and well.. worse.

When Reicher Vax drew attention back to the main objective, she gave a nod and said,
"My distraction could give you ample time to breach the Vault without having to contend with the pirates, and if things turn agressive, you may very well have what you seek before a fire fight takes place."
She was trying to hard to be of use, and this plan seemed to make her piece that would be indispensable to this outfit. Though it also meant putting her in harm's way, and worse if she was captured. However, she had no intent of being capture. She had been taught by her Fencing instructor that in many situations death is preferable to capture, because the enemy will do far worse if you live.

She kept her vision focused on Reicher's, waiting to hear if he consented to this plan. She would defer to his judgement as Team Leader, and because he knew way more about what they were about to face. In a lot of ways she felt at ease around him, he kept paying her compliments over her transformation which had not gone unnoticed. She was fairly sure he meant this as fact, and no traces of underlying romantic feeling was there; no he was not like the courtiers of Secundus. Those men were always feigning love and falling all over her. Reicher was different, he prized more than looks, which she had in spades, but she wanted to be of value beyond that, to show that she could be an asset. She could only imagine Father, and how he would react to her being in a Sith Trooper platoon about to take on pirates. It probably would give him a heart event, and that gave her pleasure, that she was doing something that would never be permitted by the King of Raxus Secundus, that was dangerous and would be among not just men of low birth, but scoundrels! The pleasure she derived from these thoughts held her over till Reicher's response to her idea of using her as bait, to parlay, and well a distraction...

 

[Reicher Vax]

Location: Transport Shuttle, Orbit of Peragus
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Oxygen tank connected to armor.
Tag: Mesmerelda

Reicher regarded Mesmerelda with the steady composure of a man who had seen countless plans rise and fall on the razor's edge of risk and ingenuity. Her enthusiasm was infectious, though he didn't share her unbridled excitement. Instead, he studied her carefully, weighing the potential of her proposal. She was eager to prove herself, that much was clear, but eagerness alone wouldn't keep her alive among pirates.

When he finally spoke, his modulated voice carried a calm yet deliberate weight. "Your idea has merit, Mesmerelda. A distraction could give us the edge we need to secure the vault without a protracted firefight. Pirates are opportunistic; if they see you as a prize or an ally, it could draw their attention away long enough for us to gain the upper hand."

He leaned forward, the crimson glow of his visor catching the faint gleam of her helmet. "But make no mistake—this is a calculated risk. Pirates aren't known for their adherence to civility. They're brutal, unpredictable, and opportunistic. You will need to be sharp, confident, and ready to adapt. If they sense weakness, they'll exploit it."

Reicher gestured to the holographic map, zooming in on the pirate hideout. "Here's how we'll execute this: You'll approach the hideout dressed as you suggested—regal, with the air of someone who commands authority and wealth. Your goal is to buy us time, either by parlaying or drawing their attention long enough for us to infiltrate and neutralize their defenses."

He pointed to a pathway leading toward the rear of the camp. "While you distract them, my team will approach from the eastern ridge, where their perimeter is weakest. Once we're in position, we'll wait for your signal. If negotiations turn sour, you say the word, and we'll engage immediately. Until then, we stay unseen."

Reicher straightened, his tone hardening slightly as he locked his visor onto hers. "If things go wrong, you focus on escape. You're not here to prove your courage by throwing yourself into unnecessary danger. If you feel like you can take them, go ham."

He allowed a pause, his voice softening just enough to acknowledge her resolve. "I trust your instincts, Mesmerelda. You've shown you're willing to take risks, but bravery without preparation is recklessness. We'll provide the support you need to make this work."

Reicher motioned to one of the Old Guard nearby, who brought over a compact comm device. He handed it to Mesmerelda. "This will keep us in constant contact. Keep it concealed, and if you need to signal us, double-tap the side. It's discreet, and it won't draw attention unless you want it to."

As the shuttle began its descent, the vibrations of force created turbulence rippling through the cabin, Reicher rose and placed a hand on her shoulder—an uncharacteristic gesture of solidarity. "We'll make this work. You have the courage to face them, and we have the firepower to ensure you walk out of there. Stick to the plan, and we'll come through this stronger for it."

He stepped back, returning his vibroblade to its sheath as the pilot's voice crackled over the intercom. "Landing in two minutes."

Reicher turned to the rest of the team, his voice sharp and commanding. "You've heard the plan. Move swiftly, stay coordinated, and prepare for all contingencies. This mission doesn't fail."

​