Private In Plain Sight.

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

The hum of the civilian liner was a steady, numbing drone, a dull backdrop to the quiet murmur of passengers lost in their own concerns. Serina Calis sat motionless, her hands lightly clasped in her lap, her fingers idly resting against the intricate, armored bodice that concealed the true weight of her presence. To the untrained eye, she was nothing more than another traveler, a lone figure wrapped in the guise of anonymity, adrift in the vastness of space.

But they did not know. They could not know.

The passengers around her—merchants, pilgrims, exiles—existed in blissful ignorance, unaware of the corruption seated among them. How strange it was, to be so utterly unknown and yet to carry within her something that could unravel the very fabric of their fragile lives. It amused her, this paradox. The idea that she, a being of such boundless potential, could be hidden in plain sight, her true nature cloaked beneath layers of elegance and shadow. A monster wrapped in silk, a storm within a whisper.

Her hood cast a deep shadow over her face, but stray locks of golden hair spilled forth, catching the dim cabin lights. The contrast pleased her. The image she presented was carefully curated, a delicate balance between allure and menace, drawing the eye while forbidding it from lingering too long. Even the patterns that adorned her armor—sharp, intricate, pulsing with faint magenta glow—seemed to whisper of something beyond mortal comprehension.

No one here could see it. No one could feel it. But the darkness, her darkness, coiled beneath the surface, ever-present, ever-watchful.

Serina's piercing blue gaze flicked across the compartment, measuring, assessing. The people around her were little more than fading embers, their lives small and fleeting, their thoughts narrow and predictable. The Outer Rim attracted many kinds: the desperate, the hopeful, the broken. Easy prey. And yet, even among the mundane, there was always the possibility of something more—someone worth breaking. Someone who could taste the shadow she carried and long for its embrace.

The thought sent a slow, knowing smile curling across her lips.

To take a soul, to mold it in her hands like wet clay, to pull them into the abyss with gentle whispers and careful strokes of corruption—that was power. True power. Anyone could destroy. The Jedi preached restraint, the Sith reveled in domination, but they all failed to grasp the truest art of influence. True power was not in the crude application of force, nor in the mindless pursuit of control. It was in the slow, deliberate unraveling of another's will. It was in the careful erosion of certainty, the invitation into something forbidden, something intoxicating. It was in the moment they realized that they had already begun to fall—and that they wanted to fall further.

How she longed to see it again.

The ship's gentle vibrations carried the occasional murmur of conversation, the clinking of glass, the distant shuffling of crew. The atmosphere was dull, placid. A still pond before the first ripple. Serina leaned back slightly, the glowing accents of her armor catching the low lights, the designs seeming to shift as if alive. There was no hurry. The Outer Rim was vast, and its depths held secrets she intended to unearth.

Somewhere, out there, was her next project. Her next unwitting acolyte.

And when she found them, when she reached into the very core of their being and made them see—truly see—there would be no turning back.

Her smirk deepened as she closed her eyes, letting the hum of the ship lull her into stillness. The hunt would begin soon enough.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Helen waited patiently at the starport, sitting with one ankle slung over her knee as she sat back comfortably in her chair. In her hands, and resting on her lap, was a dataslate that she was reading from. Helen was not your average Jedi. Instead of the demure, humble robes that one would expect from the order, she wore her old rogue's attire. A cropped bodice that left her toned midriff entirely exposed, and tight leather pants, fitted with tall leather boots that reached her knees, all hugging her form, showing off a body built like tank. Certainly not what one would expect from a jedi. In fact the only that marked her as one was the lightsaber that hung at her belt, right beside her trusty blaster pistol. A weapon that she was still more comfortable with than what she called her "flashlight". Her long auburn locks fell around her shoulders and nearly down to her elbows, concealing beneath them a smothered padawan's braid. Her dark eyes focused on the datapad in her lap that she was reading from, her lips curled up in a satisfied smile.

She'd been waiting there for a little over an hour for the shuttle to get there, and all the while she had been reading off of some baseline Jedi doctrine. Not her favorite subject, and certainly not one she was going to adhere to too strictly, though she could certainly see the values behind some of their philosophies. But with the upbringing she'd had she had a few thoughts of her own on these subjects, and she would argue to the death with whatever idiot philosopher wrote this crap.

This particular sentence made her laugh, "Do or do not, there is no try?" She read out loud, "What kind of senile old coot came up with that?"

She continued her amused readings for another few minutes before the shuttle finally came in to land. She put her dataslate away in her bag and stood up, stretching out a moment before making her way to the boarding area. She showed her passport and got aboard, taking a seat and pulling her dataslate back out. If nothing else it was good comedy to keep her entertained while they were in transit.

The smile on her face widened at the thought, this was the last transit before her final destination. It had been a few months since last she'd been this far out, and she was eager to meet up with one of her old compatriots. She'd left her crew to her second in command a long while ago, and she wanted to catch up with whomever she could. It was high time she checked in, saw how they were holding up. If she was lucky she might run into some of her old crew too. It had been too long since she'd shared drinks with them.

So lost was she in her hopeful daydreaming that she was utterly oblivious to the black void that was only across the aisle from her. Her feeling of joy at seeing old friends leaving her blind to any black spot on the day.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

The hum of the shuttle filled the space like a steady undercurrent, a constant, unremarkable presence. Serina Calis barely moved as the ship's mild turbulence settled, her posture still, regal, unassuming—yet she was watching. Observing. Feeling.

Across the aisle sat a woman who was, by every metric, something of an anomaly. Serina had taken note of her the moment she stepped aboard. Not because she carried a lightsaber—that alone was rarely enough to hold her interest—but because of everything else. The blaster at her hip. The way she carried herself. The way she didn't fit.

She was no Jedi. Not truly. At least, not in the way the fools of the Order tried to fashion themselves.

Serina could sense the discord within her, the rejection of dogma, the self-determined philosophy that bled through her every movement. The Force did not lie. It whispered truths in its currents, and the one across from her was a storm waiting to break.

Serina smirked to herself. Fascinating.

She shifted, just slightly, the elegant lines of her armored bodice shifting with her. Her hood remained up, casting a partial veil over her face, but her golden hair spilled from beneath it, catching in the dim lighting. She leaned forward, resting her elbows lightly on her knees, fingers lacing together, as if the movement were idle—unremarkable. But the shift made her presence impossible to ignore.

And then, she spoke, her voice a smooth, silken murmur.

"You were laughing earlier."

Her tone was not accusatory. It was curious. As if she had simply found the act itself… interesting. Her piercing blue eyes, sharp and knowing, locked onto Helen's with a disarming ease.

"It takes a certain kind of person to laugh at Jedi doctrine instead of absorb it like gospel." A smirk played at the edges of her lips, subtle but unmistakable. "A certain kind of person… or a certain kind of Jedi."

She let the implication linger between them, studying Helen for any reaction—any flicker of recognition, of understanding.

"'Do or do not,' was it?" she continued, tilting her head ever so slightly. "I've always thought absolutes like that were… well, naïve. Reality is made of attempts, of failures, of missteps and recoveries. Trying is everything. Without the struggle, what is the achievement worth?"

Her voice was smooth, contemplative, the kind of voice one used when inviting another into a conversation, rather than declaring a position. It was not preaching. It was understanding.

She let a small, knowing chuckle escape her lips, leaning back into her seat with a graceful ease, folding one leg over the other.

"But I suppose the Jedi have always been fond of simple wisdoms. Easy answers. Maybe that's why I've never found them particularly… satisfying."

She glanced toward the datapad in Helen's hands, then back up to her eyes, her own expression still relaxed, still effortless.

"What about you?" she mused, her voice just a shade lower, edged with something subtle but enticing. "Are you satisfied?"

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Helen looked up as she was addressed, not having expected anyone to be speaking to her. For a moment she wasn’t sure she had been spoken to at all, and had to take a moment to actually understand what was said.

But after a moment she smiled good naturedly, “yes, yes I was. To be fair this is old Clone War doctrine, not exactly the most up to date.”

Then she mulled over the question asked. Satisfied? What did she mean by that? She’d only just begun, she’d have to work at it a little more to get any satisfaction or fulfillment out of it. But this lady had started a conversation and she didn’t want to be rude by not answering.

“I’m not sure. I believe I made the right choice if that counts for anything. But real satisfaction comes later. I’ve only just begun. And honestly the Journey is more important than the destination if you ask me. So satisfaction isn’t quite what I’m after.”

She continued. “Ah, where are my manners? Helen, Helen Lupercal, it’s a pleasure.”

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

Serina let Helen's words settle between them, watching with quiet amusement as the other woman mulled over her own response. There was something earnest in her answer, something unpolished but refreshingly genuine. She wasn't one of those self-righteous fools who parroted Jedi doctrine without thought. No—Helen thought for herself. Made her own choices.

How delicious.

Serina's lips curled into a slow, knowing smile, her fingers idly tracing the glowing designs on her gauntlet as she let the conversation breathe. The journey, not the destination? That was something they could agree on.

"Now that," she said smoothly, her voice laced with quiet approval, "is something worth pursuing."

She leaned in slightly, her posture deceptively relaxed, but her presence—undeniable. The subtle shift in her weight, the way her hooded gaze stayed locked onto Helen's, the careful, almost lazy way she let her words drip from her lips—it all built an undercurrent, something felt more than spoken.

"Satisfaction is such a fleeting thing, don't you think? It never lasts. You reach for it, you grasp it for a moment, and then…" She lifted one gloved hand and let her fingers spread, as if releasing something delicate into the air. "Gone. Just like that. Which is why the chase…" she tilted her head slightly, the faintest smirk playing at the edges of her lips, "is always far more interesting."

Her piercing blue eyes flicked downward for the briefest moment—to the datapad, to the way Helen's fingers held it, to the belt where her blaster and saber rested—before lazily drawing back up.

"And if you've only just begun?" she mused, her tone edged with something almost teasing, almost indulgent. "That means there's so much left to explore. So many… experiences waiting to be had."

She let that settle, let it hang in the air just long enough to be felt before shifting her posture again, leaning back, exuding nothing but an air of casual confidence.

"Serina," she said at last, rolling the name off her tongue with deliberate ease. She lifted a gloved hand, offering it as if inviting Helen into something more than just polite introductions.

"And the pleasure," she said, "is all mine."

 

[Helen Lupercal]

"Tis a lovely name." Helen told her pleasantly, taking the gloved hand in a firm, friendly handshake. Thus far she was oblivious to her new acquaintance's insidious nature, and was all too happy to be friendly with her. "And I have to agree, satisfaction is a fleeting thing, in most cases. Long term satisfaction is achievable, though I would call that contentment. Something far harder to find, and far more worth finding for it."

"Tell me friend." She continued, putting her datapad back in the bag so she could more directly engage with the woman without distractions. "You seem like someone who knows more than most about the Jedi. What's your interest? What do you know? I'm curious. I've been with them a year or so now and there is much I have yet to learn."

Despite her independence Helen was determined to be a Jedi, though for reasons perhaps not within the norm. Though certainly not unique. The young Jedi woman was an open book, she didn't become a Jedi to be a Jedi. She became a Jedi for something else altogether. Her reasons were nonetheless altruistic in nature, she cared deeply for a group of people, and she wanted them protected. And she figured that if she could learn to use her gifts in the force from the Jedi, and use those skills to keep her friends back home safe. Hence her eagerness to learn anything that was put in front of her.

Unlike Serina's calm, cool confidence, Helen had a sort of flamboyant swagger to her. She tried to keep it down, but old habits die hard. One leg lazily crossed over the other, arms folded beneath her bosom and a smirk bordering on arrogance on her face. She had no idea just how dangerous her new friend was. And her demeanor showed it.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

Serina's smirk deepened ever so slightly as Helen clasped her hand in a firm shake. The woman was completely unaware of the darkness she had just so casually touched. It was almost adorable.

And yet, there was something about Helen that intrigued her beyond mere amusement. This one was not a blind follower. She had purpose, a drive that extended beyond the hollow ideals of the Order. A woman like that could be shaped. And that made her very interesting.

She tilted her head, considering Helen's words, the way she spoke of contentment as something more permanent, more meaningful. She didn't disagree, but the idea of settling for contentment was so small in Serina's eyes. Why seek mere peace when one could have everything?

But now was not the time to challenge that belief. No, not yet.

Serina exhaled softly, almost like a quiet, knowing laugh, before leaning back slightly in her seat, mirroring Helen's ease with her own perfectly measured poise.

"An interesting question," she mused, drawing it out just enough to add an air of intrigue. "I know enough about the Jedi to know what they are… and what they aren't."

Her gloved fingers drummed lightly against the armrest, her blue eyes never leaving Helen's. "They preach knowledge, but discourage certain kinds of it. They claim wisdom, yet fear too many of the galaxy's truths. And above all?" She smiled, slow and deliberate. "They deny themselves. Their nature. Their desires. Their instincts."

She let that linger just a moment before continuing, her voice measured, smooth, as if peeling back a truth that Helen had always known but never fully examined.

"You say you've been with them for a year. And yet, I wonder… how much have they truly given you? How much have they held back? How much of yourself have they asked you to suppress?"

Serina tilted her head, her golden hair shifting ever so slightly as she did. She studied Helen—not just her words, but the swagger, the confidence, the way she carried herself like someone who had once owned her own destiny.

"I imagine a woman like you has had to fight for everything she has." Her voice was lower now, more intimate. "That you do not bend easily to the wills of others. And yet, here you are, seeking their path, learning what they allow you to learn. Following rules written by men who do not know you."

Her smirk returned, a little more playful now, but no less dangerous.

"Tell me, Helen… are you truly satisfied with only what they are willing to give you?"

There was no pressure in her words. No accusation. No command. Only a question. One Helen had never considered before.

And that, Serina knew, was how it always began.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

If she were to ask Helen that particular question about having everything, Helen would have an answer for her ready and waiting. She'd been asked that question before. While Serina had hidden it from her Helen had encountered Darksiders before. Remarkably conservative ones but darksiders nonetheless. One of whom had even urged her to study the force more, to touch that gift she had and use it, rather than just let it exist. Thinking back on it she had much to thank Diarch Rellik for, she wouldn't have pushed this far without his initial urging and preliminary exposure to what the Force could be. Even if this wasn't quite the road he would have hoped she'd take.

"So far... they've given me what I came for. The means by which I can get stronger. As flawed as some of their outlooks may be they have figured a few things out. One of which seems to be the most crucial to me. And that much they have given me. I don't really care that much for their deeper secrets, they can keep them. As for your other question... honestly not much compared to some others. My master is not particularly rigid on rules and dogma. This isn't the era of the Clone War, there are rigid traditionalists and liberal chaos enthusiasts abound. Besides, most I've met knew fairly quickly that trying to change me wasn't going to work out that well."

She sighed thoughtfully, then shrugged, "So far. The Jedi aren't home to me like they are to many others. I don't need everything they have. Honestly I just need a compass to orient me in the right direction, so I can go off on my own. I don't imagine I will be a Jedi in the same vein that they want me to be. But for all intents and purposes, I have what I need."

The long-term contentment that she spoke about earlier was ultimately her end goal, and she wasn't looking for it from the Jedi.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

Serina devoured Helen's response, not just with her ears but with something deeper, something more intimate. The way she spoke, the way she carried herself, the way she had a ready answer, as if she had been tested before. It sent a slow, molten thrill curling through Serina's spine.

She leaned forward again, her movements deliberate, her gloved fingers resting against her chin, her blue eyes drinking Helen in.

"So that's it then?" she purred, her voice like warm silk, low and laced with something decadent. "You have what you need, and that's enough?"

Her lips curled into a knowing smirk, her tone teasing, indulgent. "How very… practical. But I wonder—are you really so pragmatic, Helen? I don't think so."

She let the name roll off her tongue, slow and deliberate. There was a pleasure in saying it, in tasting it. Serina's eyes half-lidded, watching Helen like a hunter watching something exquisite.

"You strike me as the type who was never satisfied with what was merely enough." She exhaled a soft laugh, tilting her head, golden locks catching in the dim cabin lights. "You could have stayed where you were, kept your crew, your independence. But you came to the Jedi because you wanted more. And not just for your strength. No…"

Serina's gaze was unrelenting, stripping away layers with quiet, unspoken promise.

"You want control."

She shifted, rolling her shoulders, her cape shifting like liquid shadow around her. "Not in the way the Sith do—crude, mindless domination. And certainly not in the way the Jedi do, with their chains of doctrine and duty." Her smirk deepened, eyes gleaming. "No, you want something more refined. More… intimate."

Her voice was thick with something velvety and dark, creeping into every word. She let her fingers slide from her chin, resting delicately against the armrest, her nails tapping in slow, languid rhythm.

"You want to touch the world around you and feel it move at your will. You want to shape it, bend it, not through force, not through duty, but through understanding. Through presence."

She leaned in, the air between them charged, thick with something unseen but undeniably felt.

"You don't need the Jedi. You don't need the Sith. You don't need anyone to tell you how to walk your path." Her lips parted, a hushed whisper now, as if she were telling Helen something meant for her alone. "But you do need something else, don't you?"

Serina let the moment stretch, the weight of her words hanging, her smirk unwavering.

"You need someone who sees you. All of you. Who understands exactly what you are, exactly what you could be. Someone who won't try to change you, won't try to break you… but will show you everything you don't even know you're missing yet."

Her fingers curled slightly against the seat, as if resisting the urge to reach out. But her eyes? Her eyes were already on her.

"You say you have what you need. That you have enough." She smiled now, slow, indulgent, indulgent in her, in this.

"I wonder…" her voice dropped to a sultry murmur, "have you ever let yourself wonder what it would feel like to have more?"

Serina let the words sink in, let them settle in the space between them. It was not a challenge. It was not coercion.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Helen considered this and mulled over what was said. It didn't quite click, but it was certainly speaking to her. It wasn't too far off the mark, but her ambitions were nothing so grand as that. As she had told the Diarch when he had challenged her this way, she didn't want anything big. She'd looked at the big, imposing, gargantuan empires, syndicates, crime rings and their leaders all the same way. They all went down a slippery slope, every time they got more it wasn't enough and they kept trying to grow, trying to hold more and more and more, until it all fell apart under its own weight. Her only real ambition was to gain strength and knowledge so she could better protect her friends back home.

The way Diarch Rellik had tried was suggesting an empire, building a system beneath her like he and his were trying to do. Like so many had before. Their Diarchy was not the same as many that had come before, but in a number of ways it was the same too. That held no interest to her. She didn't care for grand empires, secret syndicates that spanned the galaxy. She wanted to be neither an Empress nor a Hutt. Both seemed in equal parts exhausting and fleeting. She wanted neither.

It all boiled down to impermanence, she knew that everything ended eventually, and the more complicated the system the more ways it could go wrong. The bigger it was the harder it fell, and the sooner. So she aimed to keep her circle small, sustainable for the longest amount of time. She didn't want power, influence or greatness. At least not for its own sake. Her end goal was to keep her home prosperous and it's people safe, she didn't want to expand her sphere of influence or make things greater on the galactic stage. She wanted to keep her little niche the way it was. A little isolated bubble of calm amid the turmoil. A little fish that lived comfortably and happily among the violent riptides. Nothing more than that.

"More of what?" She asked, the philosophical part of her coming out to surface. The one that had been piecing through Jedi doctrine and trying to work through it to find something meaningful. She'd found much she could use, and there was much wisdom within Jedi writings. They'd gone astray every now and then, but then so did everyone else. "I've considered many things. What if I had more people? More ships? More weapons? More territory? But in the end I figured that it would just hurt me in the end. I suppose that's what attracted me to the Jedi, they, for all their shortcomings, understand the value of temperance and being content with what one already has. Wanting more... it's just more trouble than it's worth isn't it?"

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

Serina relished the way Helen thought, the way she weighed and dissected the world, the way she had already come to conclusions about power and its inevitable collapse. Small. Contained. Sustainable. Not out of fear, but from wisdom. From a fundamental understanding that empires fall, syndicates rot from within, and the pursuit of more was a game that never ended.

It was a rare kind of mind. A mind that did not crave dominion, but that understood it. That saw the cycle and refused to play the fool within it.

And Serina loved that.

She let the silence stretch between them for just a moment, savoring it, letting Helen's words hang in the air like the scent of a fire just beginning to smolder.

Then, she exhaled softly—almost a laugh, almost a sigh—as she leaned in just enough that Helen could feel the presence she exuded, the weight of her attention.

"More?" she echoed, tilting her head ever so slightly. Her golden locks caught the dim glow of the cabin, and her smirk was indulgent. Slow. As if she were enjoying something deeply personal.

"You're thinking about things. More people, more ships, more weapons, more territory." She waved a gloved hand lazily, dismissively. "I wouldn't insult you by suggesting any of that."

She watched Helen, sharp and hungry in her gaze, as she let the next words roll off her tongue, thick and deliberate.

"I'm talking about you."

The smirk that followed was not just playful, not just teasing—it was something richer, something felt. A slow drag of velvet against skin, a whisper just at the ear.

"Tell me, Helen—why is it that you count yourself separate from the things you refuse?"

She tapped a single, gloved finger against her knee, slow and methodical, as if she were peeling apart Helen's thoughts one by one.

"You've dismissed the pursuit of power, the pursuit of control, because you see the danger of expansion. Because you see how the galaxy devours the arrogant, the ambitious, the ones who believe they can hold everything in their grasp and never let go."

She leaned in closer now, her voice lowering, dripping with something dark and intimate.

"But what if the thing worth having more of… is you?"

She let that sit. Let it settle. Let Helen feel the weight of that idea before she continued, softer now, more indulgent, more pleasurable.

"Not influence. Not wealth. Not an empire. But… more of what you are."

Her eyes flickered with amusement, with something unreadable.

"I wonder—do you even know the depth of yourself? Or have you drawn an artificial boundary, built a little wall around your mind, the same way you plan to do with your home?"

Her gloved fingers curled slightly against the armrest, her smirk deepening.

"You tell me, Helen—have you ever touched the edge of yourself and pushed? Have you ever felt the limit of your strength and thought… just for a moment… what would it be like to step beyond?"

She exhaled again, a slow, satisfied sound, her presence practically draped over the conversation, subtle and commanding.

"Temperance is a lovely thing," she mused, her voice a low, decadent hum. "But tell me this… have you ever let yourself wonder—what would you be… if you stopped holding yourself back?"

There was no coercion in her words, no pressure.

Just a promise.

A promise that something existed beyond the horizon Helen had drawn for herself. That she could taste something deeper. Something richer.

Something more.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

That gave her pause. Of course she'd pushed herself to her limits and beyond, several times. That was the only way to grow. To get better. To find one's limits and push them beyond what they were the day prior. In a sense that's what she was doing now. But something told her that wasn't quite what her new friend was getting at. And that made her curious... dangerously curious. And the fact that she didn't see how dangerous it could be, only made it worse.

Was she holding herself back? how? She didn't think she was. She was putting all of the effort she had into her training, trying to get stronger, wiser, to accumulate as much personal capability as she could. She doubted she'd reach the heights of the true greats. She was no slouch, but she was no savant, no chosen one, no villainous mastermind either. She was, as far as she knew, normal. And all she intended to do was push her limit as far as her limit would go, and from there continue her life as she had originally intended. With a home and a family and the strength to keep them safe. That was all she was after, and she was definitely pushing herself a great deal to accomplish this goal.

But the seed of doubt was planted. Was she holding herself back? If she was... how could she get out of her own way?

"I'm... not quite sure what you mean." She admitted, "I've done plenty of training, I've pushed myself to my limit before and have worked diligently to extend past them. Though something tells me that's not what you're asking."

Helen was not one to be tempted by power for power's sake. But curiosity was a critical weakness of hers. And the prospect of finding out just how far she could go was not an unwelcome one. So long as she was careful not to fall in the trap that so many before her had. She didn't want to hurt anyone. She didn't care for control either. She was happy to live her life, live and let live, she wouldn't bother anyone who didn't bother her. But as long as it didn't do any harm to her or her friends... why shouldn't she see how far she could go?

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

Serina could see it. The pause, the flicker of curiosity, the moment when Helen's mind opened just a sliver—just enough for her to slide inside. It was beautiful, intoxicating, delicious.

This was how it always began.

She did not move for a long moment, letting the weight of Helen's thoughts settle around them, letting her stew in the doubt she had planted.

And then, she smiled.

Not a triumphant smirk, not some overplayed grin of manipulation—no, something softer, something genuine. Because it was genuine. Serina took pleasure in this, in guiding, in revealing.

"Oh, Helen…" she breathed, her voice rich, sultry, like a slow, curling ribbon of heat in the cool air. "I believe you when you say you push yourself. I believe you when you say you train. That you work. That you bleed for your growth. But growth—" she leaned in, just enough to bring them closer, just enough to invade her space while keeping it feeling casual—"is not the same as discovery."

Her blue eyes gleamed, drinking in every flicker of Helen's reaction, her hands resting lightly on the armrest, fingers curled in lazy relaxation.

"You've spent your time building yourself up, refining your edges, honing your craft, reaching for the next step, the next milestone." Her smirk deepened slightly, just slightly. "And that's admirable. Truly."

She let that settle, letting Helen bask in that moment of praise, in that perfect moment where she was seen, acknowledged.

And then, she struck.

"But tell me… have you ever let go?"

She let the words drip from her lips like honey, slow and deliberate.

"Have you ever stopped fighting, stopped training, stopped controlling every single movement, every single step of your path—and just felt it?"

Her smirk turned into something more indulgent, something sinfully pleased, as if she were unwrapping a gift, savoring every layer.

"You say you want to see how far you can go. But tell me… have you ever truly let yourself go? Have you ever let your body move the way it wants to move? Let the Force take you, let it flow through you, not as a tool to be trained, but as something deeper—something untamed?"

Her voice was a whisper now, just for Helen, a conspiratorial murmur, rich with promise, with pleasure.

"Because, my dear Helen, that is where the real limits begin to shatter. When you do what you haven't done before."

Her gloved fingers traced lazy circles against the armrest, her smirk one of quiet amusement.

"You're so careful, aren't you?" she mused, tilting her head slightly, her voice practically stroking Helen's thoughts. "So controlled. So measured. You don't need control, Helen. Not with me. Not here."

She let that sit, let Helen feel it, feel the temptation not of power, not of dominion—but of freedom.

"What if I told you," she murmured, her voice almost deliciously secretive, "that there are places inside you that you've never even touched? That everything you think you know about yourself is only the surface?"

Serina smiled again, slow, indulgent, letting her blue eyes glide over Helen's posture, her body, her form, in a way that was equal parts admiring and unspoken invitation.

"What if I could show you?"

The words weren't just a tease.

They were a promise.

 

[Helen Lupercal]

That... wasn't a bad idea. She didn't think. Some very small part of her was beginning to grow suspicious of this rhetoric that was being presented, it sounded eerily familiar. But that small part of her was quiet, and not large enough to really occupy her thoughts at the time.

Let go? She was just growing more confused. It was a tempting prospect. Nebulous enough to evade description yet promising and convincing enough to be compelling. She found herself wanting to explore this avenue. To learn more in a different way.

"I'm not so sure about that." She confessed. "Control is always needed. If I don't control what I do then I risk becoming little more than an animal. It is conscious, measured decision that separates us from the beasts, that allows us the mastery that we can achieve."

This was something she truly believed. She might be misunderstanding, but what she was hearing was something that drew red flags as dangerous, and not because the Jedi said so. It was a lack of control, precisely that which had lead so many others down the path of ruin.

But at the same time it was said in the context of the force. Letting it be her driving motivation. Being a vessel through which the force could move, not a director of its powers but an avatar for it to take in this physical plane. And the Jedi had many things like this put into their writings. One Master in particular, Qui Gonn Jin came to mind, who had been a nigh perfect vessel for the force that he transcended the material world and lingered long after death. Some rumors, unconfirmed of course, suggested that his consciousness persisted even today. Was that what she was talking about?

And was she willing to make such a commitment?

"I... Don't know." She answered hesitantly, clearly intrigued, but not quite convinced. Though a few choice words might just pull the uncertain woman over, convince her to begin exploring.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

Serina could feel it now, taste it. That slow, delicious unraveling of certainty, the delicate balance of hesitation and intrigue. Helen was close—so close to something she had never touched before.

And Serina was going to bring her there.

She did not smirk this time. Did not gloat. Instead, she simply watched Helen with an expression of gentle understanding, her blue eyes calm, steady, as if she knew this was where the conversation had always been leading.

"That's the difference, isn't it?" she murmured, her voice softer now, as if speaking to something deeper than Helen's mind—something that wanted to listen. "Between you and them. Between the ones who seek only power, and the ones who kneel before rules they didn't write."

Her gloved fingers traced slow, absent-minded circles against the armrest, a quiet rhythm as she let her words settle, build, sink in.

"The Jedi Code," she mused, her voice thoughtful, teasing at the edges of something profound. "You know it, don't you? You've read it, studied it. Believed in parts of it. But tell me, Helen—" she leaned in slightly, her presence wrapping around the conversation like silk—"the last line. Do you remember it?"

She let the silence stretch just long enough, just enough to let Helen answer in her mind before she spoke the words herself.

"There is no death, there is the Force."

Serina's eyes gleamed, her voice dripping with something rich, something deep.

"That is the heart of it, isn't it? The final truth. That in the end, all things are the Force."

She tilted her head, golden locks spilling over her shoulder, her smirk returning—soft, knowing.

"And the Jedi? What do they teach? They teach surrender. Not in the crude, base way the Sith do—their surrender is to emotion, to impulse, to desire. But the Jedi surrender in a different way. They surrender to the Force itself. They do not seek to direct it, nor to shape it, nor to wield it as anything but an extension of some greater current. They call themselves its servants."

Serina exhaled softly, almost a sigh, as if this thought was disappointing to her.

"Tell me, Helen… is that what you want?" Her voice lowered, intimate, smooth as flowing water. "To surrender? To serve? To be carried by the tide, drifting where it takes you? Or do you want to stand in the waters, feel their strength, and know that they move because you will it?"

She leaned back now, letting the weight of her words settle, watching, watching for the shift, for that spark in Helen's eyes that told her she had felt it.

"If you want control, Helen—true control—you must avoid the surrender of both. You must not be led by the leash of emotion, nor be shackled by the passivity of doctrine. You must become something greater than both."

Her smirk deepened, slow, indulgent, pleased.

"And I think you know that."

She let the words rest now, let Helen sit with them, let her feel the weight of the thought settling in her mind, curling around her thoughts like an ember waiting to become a flame.

"I don't need you to agree with me," Serina whispered, her voice laced with something just shy of affection. "I only need you to think about it. And if you do…"

She tilted her head, watching Helen with something almost lazy in her amusement.

"Then I think, my dear Helen, you may already have your answer."

 

[Helen Lupercal]

That was a lot more convincing. She didn't mean be without self control, but to be without outside control. To be unrestricted by external forces. It was very much the same thing that the Sith preached, "the force shall set me free", but it was different in a way. This one seemed genuine, and not just an excuse to satisfy one's impulses without oversight.

She did think about it, and she thought about it for a long time. Mulling it over, trying to argue for and against it, the little devil and angel (which still appeared very devilish) on her shoulders arguing back and forth. Weighing the pros and cons. Trying to discern if this could lead to an unfavorable end. If this could be a slippery slope. But... she couldn't find one. It genuinely seemed to be a reasonably safe rabbit hole to go down.

She was already not altogether one with Jedi doctrine, even if it wasn't so strict as it once had been. She placed immense value on personal freedom, and valued her ability to control her own destiny above almost all else. She knew that there were things she couldn't control, and control of the galaxy around her was absolutely something that would drive her down the dark path. But that wasn't this... right?

"I..." She hesitated, that one final moment of indecision before she crossed the threshold, this felt final, like she couldn't go back if she took the proverbial hand that was extended to her. Finally she came to a decision. "I think I'd like that. If I could be the truest and sole master of my own fate, then I can see no reason to refuse."

She looked Serina in the eye, searching for something. What she didn't know. But searching.

"What exactly does this entail?"

She was convinced. She knew that the force had a will of its own. But if it wanted slaves, and it was the source of all life, then why did it grace all other sentients with free will? Surely she was permitted these choices for a reason. And the seeming division between the dark and the light suggested a decentralized will, so perhaps this was what she was meant to do.

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

Serina watched her, let her linger in that space of hesitation, of uncertainty. She could see the war playing out behind Helen's eyes, the cautious calculations, the weighing of consequences, the careful examination of what lay before her.

And then—that moment.

The threshold passed.

Serina did not smirk. Did not gloat. Instead, she exhaled slowly, almost reverently, as if this—this single choice—was something sacred, something worth savoring.

She tilted her head slightly, her blue eyes locking onto Helen's, searching as deeply as Helen was searching her. And then, she smiled. Not indulgent. Not teasing. But pleased. Genuinely pleased.

"Good," she murmured, her voice low, rich, smooth as silk draped over steel.

She shifted, her posture open, inviting—not just physically, but in presence, in energy, in the way her voice carried something deep, something real.

"You already understand more than most," she continued, her tone edged with quiet approval. "You already see the flaw in surrender—whether it's to emotion, or to doctrine, or to the Force itself. You understand that free will is not some accident, not some mistake to be erased by asceticism or indulgence. It is a gift. One that so many squander."

Her fingers idly traced the edge of her gauntlet, her golden hair catching the dim light as she leaned forward slightly—not imposing, not overbearing, but in a way that drew Helen in.

"What this entails…" she murmured, as if tasting the words before she spoke them. "It is not a doctrine, not a set of rules or rigid philosophies. I will not ask you to kneel. I will not demand that you take an oath or wear a sigil. That is not what this is."

Her blue eyes gleamed, sharp, knowing.

"This is about understanding. About stepping beyond the lines that have been drawn for you—by the Jedi, by the Sith, by every philosopher who ever sought to impose their will on the galaxy and call it truth."

She leaned in now, slow, deliberate, her voice a whisper that carried the weight of something immense.

"You will feel the Force, Helen. Not as a tool to be wielded, not as a master to be obeyed, but as something greater. You will move with it, through it, not shackled by the fear of its light, nor consumed by the fire of its darkness. You will touch every part of it. You will know yourself—all of yourself—in a way you never have before."

She let that sit, let Helen absorb it, before her smirk returned, slow, indulgent, pleased.

"And most of all… you will never bow. To anyone. To anything. Because you will not be Jedi. You will not be Sith. You will not be bound by their histories, their wars, their endless cycles of failure and destruction."

She exhaled, closing her eyes for just a moment, as if savoring the truth of it. Then, her gaze was back on Helen, sharp and unwavering.

"You will be free."

She let the words settle, let Helen feel them, let her breathe in the weight of that promise.

Then, Serina leaned back, reclining once more, her posture effortless, but the invitation still there, woven into the very space between them.

"And all you have to do… is take the first step."

Her smirk deepened, her eyes glinting with something undeniably pleased.

"Are you ready for that, Helen?"

 

[Helen Lupercal]

Serina went on, telling her about how she would be setting herself free. That she would learn. Improve. That the force would become a source of true freedom for her. Perhaps something she valued more than anything else.

But then she was asked a question. One that , when answered, would determine her future. But she'd already made her considerations. She'd already weighed everything. Already thought about what could happen, and what would end. And her answer remained the same.

"I'm ready." She said resolutely, no doubt left in her tone. Whatever the future held, she had a feeling that this was the right way to go. She knew the dangers of the dark side and the limitations of the light. She wouldn't allow herself to fall to avarice or hate, and she wouldn't allow her self-control to turn into a prison. She knew that many people sought balance between the two sides, and maybe she would be one of them.

Or... perhaps that was the wrong way to see it. Perhaps dividing the force into sides like that was incorrect... mislead. Labels assigned to the same thing used in different ways by different people. It was an idea that she would have to explore later.

"Though I'm afraid I'll have to hold off on beginning this study for a little while." She told Serina with a smile. "I'm on my way to meet with some old friends, and I can't just call it off at the last second."

---

Serina Calis

 

[Serina Calis]

In Plain Sight.
Location: Civilian Liner travelling to the Outer Rim.
Objective: Find Prey.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Helen Lupercal

Corruption is not a storm, nor a fire. It is a whisper in the dark, a hand at your back when you think you stand alone. It is the moment you realize the path you walk is no longer yours… and that you do not wish to turn back.
​

Serina watched her closely, her blue eyes gleaming with something rich, something deeply satisfied. There was no greater pleasure than this—the moment of willing surrender, not to her, but to something greater, something beyond the constraints of Jedi and Sith, of doctrine and dogma. Helen had made her choice. And Serina had won.

She let the silence breathe, let Helen feel the full weight of her own decision. Then, after a long pause, she exhaled softly—almost like a sigh, almost like satisfaction.

"Good."

The word was spoken softly, but it carried weight. It carried promise.

Serina leaned back slightly, her posture still perfectly poised, her smirk slow, indulgent, pleased.

"You may think this is the end of a conversation," she mused, almost teasing, "but it's not. It never is. This is merely the first crack in the door, the first step into something far greater than you realize."

She tilted her head slightly, golden locks spilling over her shoulder as she studied Helen with something almost fond.

"And that, my dear Helen, is the beauty of it. You won't even need to rush. The changes have already begun."

She let that hang between them, knowing exactly how it would settle into Helen's mind—like an ember waiting to catch flame.

At the mention of her friends, Serina let out a soft, knowing laugh, low and smooth, as if amused by the sentiment.

"Of course," she said easily, waving a gloved hand in a dismissive, languid gesture. "You still have a life, after all. You still have your home, your people. I wouldn't dream of dragging you away from that."

Then, she leaned in again, voice lowering, just enough to feel closer, to feel more intimate.

"But let me give you one small piece of advice before you go see them."

She smirked, a slow, deliberate expression, her blue eyes smoldering with something unreadable, something just shy of dangerous.

"Watch how they speak to you. Watch how they look at you. Watch the assumptions they make about you. And then…" Her voice was velvet-draped steel. "Ask yourself if they see you as you truly are… or as who you used to be."

She leaned back again, giving Helen space, but her presence remained, lingering, seeping into the air between them.

"And if you ever find yourself wondering who you really are now?" Her smirk deepened, her voice honeyed with something just shy of seduction. "You know where to find me."

She settled into her seat with effortless grace, her gaze drifting toward the viewport, watching the void of space with the quiet patience of a hunter who had already set the snare.