Poisoned Honey

[Darth Vulcanus]

It was a pleasure watching it burn. To watch the temple fade away behind columns of black smoke and glowing embers. Even now the chorus of screams rippled across time, caressing the parts of his psyche that had been unchained from Republican propaganda. Freed by the searing flames spread by the @Kiera Ticon 's Clone Army. Of course, those things were long in the past now with his last sighting of Keira having been six years prior to today. He was a far superior man to the cowering fool he had been before, he was pure now. A man of Imperial High Culture, the strongest people the Core Worlds could offer to this fleeting excuse for civilization the galaxy had fallen into.

He had gone from slave to conqueror and his justice was all that mattered now and he was about to offer the woman who had set him on this path the greatest gift he could offer anyone. The opportunity to become something, the opportunity to continue the work she started all those years ago on Ossus. She would become a member of the High Culture and together like he had long planned, they would bring a new state of order to the galaxy and those barbarians she led around by the nose.

Standing stiffly on the bridge of his command ship, every fiber of his uniform tucked into place, Irridius sent out the most important holo-message of his recent years. He sent a call request to the holo-communicator his intelligence agents had dug up for Kiera Ticon and he had marked it the call with one line he knew she'd recall.

"RN-327" the Republic designator for his old Republic carrier.

 

[Keira Priest]

Music

It had been five years, but Keira could still recall it in almost perfect detail. There had been no talk on the short ride in the gunship down to the planet, all of the typical comms chatter silenced without her having to say a word. All of them knew what was going to happen, and while each may have had their own private reservations against it, they knew that going through with their orders was the best way to protect their brothers and sisters in the long run. There was no telling what the next move of the tyrannical Prime Minister would be, and it was better to follow along with what she said to the letter than defy and reap the consequences. She had been no different, even as their commander. All she had wanted was to keep them safe, and if that meant killing a few Jedi, then so be it.

But there had been no need. Instead of the fight all of them had been anticipating, they were met with brief confrontation and a simple surrender. Certainly she had been disappointed, but it was better that than waste lives on an offensive that was at the very least partially preventable. None of it had mattered in the long run. Their orders had been carried out, and they were allowed to return to the capital of the Republic, Chazwa. And not a moment too soon, as the Sith had taken the opportunity of weakness to strike at the Republic. It was the army that had played a decisive role in pushing back the invading forces, ironically enough after trying to destroy the galactic power not long before. And then the nightmare had ended, almost as if it had never existed in the first place.

However, none of that was truly her concern anymore. After serving a further tenure in the Republic she had eventually left their ranks entirely, making the decision to join the Mandalorian people that would change her life forever. With open arms she had been accepted into House Verd, granting her a family and a purpose far larger than she could have ever imagined. Along had come her time spent with the Crusaders, a nation she would come to lead before its eventual collapse and her absolving of their one true mission. Then there had been silence, until recently. Once more the drums had been beaten, a new Mand'alor at the helm with a fresh rallying cry: reconstruction.

And for as long as she could recall in the past month or so, reconstruction had been her focus. She'd joined the rest of the vode in seizing new planets for their people, speaking diplomatically where she could and utilizing force only rarely, which was something new to all of them. They were learning to be themselves yet different, realizing that there were more approaches than just a hail of gunfire to greet their enemies. This was a new era, a new face of their culture, and she was proud. In a way they all were.

At the present moment, however, there was rest. After a brutal clash with a Sith Lord on the jungle world of Dathomir, she had spent some time in the medbay before being mostly confined to her quarters as she healed, only venturing outside of the outpost on Dxun on occasion, each time outside of the doctor's orders, as was and had been typical throughout her life. But there would be none of that today. Instead she was holed away in her quarters, dressed in her plainclothes with bandages across her chest and right shoulder, the bruising and burns across the former still tender, while the latter retained limited mobility after nerve damage brought about from getting too friendly with a lightsaber.

All she was doing at the moment was all that could really be done, which was cleaning her kit methodically, the maintenance most certainly needed and appreciated. It was an almost meditative process, and she was in the middle of reassembling her EE-3 when the holoprojector she had detached from her armor chirped on the desk before her, sitting on the other side of what remained of the rifle to piece together. Stifling a sigh she reached out to answer the call, freezing when she recognized the designation, brow knitting in confusion. "That's a Republic identification number."
"Yeah, I know. It used to be ours. Well, our transport."
"The last remaining records classify that vessel as having been decommissioned when the clone army was put out of service."
"I'm aware. Which means whoever has the tags has access to old Republic intel, and, more importantly, knows about my connections."
"Friend or foe?"
"I guess we'll find out."

And with that she finally picked up the call, "This is Keira Ticon."

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

Music

A ghostly white smile was the first thing to materialize in the hologram, then came the piercing emeralds of his eyes and the consuming black of his hair. He was positively delighted to see the state of her form, bruised and bloodied. He'd come hunting for the killer he remembered, the destroyer of lies that had brought the Jedi to their knees in a single night and it appeared as if he had found her exactly as he knew he would. But of course that was no surprise, he was always steps ahead of everyone he spoke with.

"Keira Ticon, I'm not disappointed. You look just as exquisitely dangerous as I remember from the holovids of the Ossus march." Irridius jumped right into the conversation as if Keira had been expecting this moment for the past six years. How could she not have? He was surely a mark in her memory "I've heard that you've become quite the busy woman in the galaxy."

Irridius was alone on the bridge, but it was blatantly visible behind him in the holo. The sharp, utilitarian designs were all distinctly Imperial; from the wall implanted holoscreen to the command pits that flanked either side of the Star Destroyer's bridge. Even from the other side of a holo, the flawless sheen of Irridius' floors was apparent, something that would strike anyone who'd ever seen the inside of a Star Destroyer as odd. Yes, The Imperials put a high importance on the cleanliness of their vessels, but scuff marks and blemishes were something that military vessels had in plentiful supply.

Not this one, however. It glowed almost ominously, buffed to a shine that was almost unnatural. It complimented Irridus himself, who had always had a disdain for filth, but even he seemed to have jumped to an extreme of cleanliness that Kiera would find foreign to the man she knew in The Republic. No fiber was out of place, not a dirt mark could be seen.

He held himself above normal men and it showed in every stitch of his uniform.

 

[Keira Priest]

As the caller materialized from the holoprojector she continued to piece the rifle back together, sliding another component into place and looking up at the figure that had finally revealed themselves. Dark eyes squinted slightly in a way he would recognize, one that meant she was trying to discern just who the person before her was. As he continued to speak recognition dawned on her but her gaze didn't waver, remaining steadily on the man that stood before her until he finished speaking. There was no retort made in the seconds that followed, and for a moment or two she seemed to concern herself more with the weapon before her as if she was assuring everything was in its proper place thus far, when really she was just buying herself time to formulate a response to a man she hadn't seen or spoken with in years.

Thus far Thalia was remaining decidedly quiet, though Keira was well aware the AI was either recording the conversation or deciding to listen silently for once, or more than likely doing both. Had she been thinking she would have asked her to trace the coordinates to the origin of the transmission, but hopefully they had been working together long enough for that to be inherent. Not that she had much time to worry about that, since he apparently wasn't much of one for introductions - had he always been like this? - and had immediately initiated the conversation as if it was the most normal thing in the galaxy, having someone you once served alongside in a nation you'd tried your hardest to forget show up out of the blue.

"I've been around." To say the least. Since last they'd spoken she'd fought on at least nine major battlefields, excluding any minor conflicts she'd gotten herself into in between her time being formally deployed. That and six years of absence left her plenty of time to forget the man before her, but what he'd said about the coup had sparked her memory. This was the man that had once piloted one of the cruisers that carried the clone army into battle, once Captain Irridius of the Republic but now seemingly having found a different calling. Apparently he remembered her, and she wouldn't have exactly minded that, had it not been for all the wrong reasons.

"The coup was six years ago. I've long since moved on and found myself a better place to be. The Republic got what they deserved." For the moment her tone remained fairly neutral despite the feelings of regret and frustration that mention of the coup dredged up. She still regretted that she hadn't done something more to keep her men safe during the ordeal, but it was far too little, too late. All she had now were the memories, and they were something that would never leave her behind, no matter how hard she tried to erase all recollections of that failed galactic power. Though the Republic was long dead its memory still lived on in the worst of ways.

There was nothing she had to say to him, but she was trying. During that brief moment of silence she allowed her eyes to wander to what scenery she could make out behind him, finding nothing but the bridge of a vessel that she almost instantly recognized as a Star Destroyer. There was only one possible conclusion to be drawn, but she made no mention of it, no hint of animosity showing on her face despite the disdain she held for each and every individual that claimed such a banner as their own. This was her giving him a chance, and hopefully he had the sense to play it wisely.

"Is there something I can help you with?"

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

The snake charmer smile only grew longer as Keira spoke, the blaze of the Jedi temple still reflecting in his eyes. Of course, Irridius already knew that Keira Ticon had been much more than just another droning citizen of The Galaxy. She had disappeared many times throughout public record, only rematerializing where the scales of Galactic power were concerned. He wondered, was her coyness just modesty or was she intelligent enough to refrain from speaking of her past. He assumed the latter, after all, this was the woman who turned the Republic's lies to ashes for the whole galaxy to see; she was much more clever than the legged fish stumbling about the galaxy and that was why he managed to respect her.

"Oh, I am quite aware how long it has been since the march. It was the day My mind was finally freed from the endless toiling of Republic propaganda and make no mistake, the burning of their cities was far better than they deserved." Irridius spoke casually, his gloved hands making vague gestures that accompanied his words, "But we both know that.",he remarked factually

With a lazy, but purposeful, roll of his wrist, Irridius continued on in his imperious monologue, "It has taken these six years for proper preparations to be made, but the time is finally upon us, Keira. I come to you, bearing the gift of destiny. The accumulation of all that you have accomplished made manifest."

 

[Keira Priest]

The longer he continued speaking, the more it became apparent that the man before her was no longer the same one she had served alongside in the Republic. Something intrinsic about him had changed, and while Keira couldn't exactly discern what it was she knew that none of it was for the better. His demeanor was nothing she trusted, and she recognized from experience that it meant he was dangerous in ways most people wouldn't recognize but she did intrinsically. His idea of threatening differed vastly from the volatility she possessed, his own quiet and slumbering, lurking just beneath the surface, a snake as opposed to the barely restrained predator she always halfway existed as.

He continued speaking and she paid attention even as she kept repairing her firearm, clicking the final of the main pieces into place, leaving only the detail pieces such as the scope to be fixed into place. It was that she fiddled with for a moment, raising the rifle and sighting through it, reaching up to adjust the focus and zoom as needed until it was settled on a setting she was content with. That piece of her arsenal was set aside, and she next moved on to the CW-77, the carbon-fiber collapsible slugthrower pistol fickle in its maintenance. It was that she disassembled as she worked through her response, not quite looking up at him as she methodically disassembled it to clean each component.

The parts were sifted through as she finally seemed to acknowledge him for a second time, resting her arms on the edge of the desk before her and studying the bridge behind him once more, "You speak of the Imperials, I assume." It wasn't a question asked so much as a statement of fact made with absolute certainty in the words she spoke. She'd been on enough battlefields and involved in enough politics to be able to recognize what the uniform of an Imperial officer looked like, and she knew what cause the once proud Republican had turned himself to after the descent of his previous loyalties. It didn't disappoint her that he'd left the Republic, but she was more than unimpressed that he'd chosen their cause to pledge himself to.

"I want you to understand something, Irridius. I say what I do not out of any malevolence towards you, but out of experience from what I have seen on all of the battlefields I have walked. I have witnessed firsthand the supposed 'good' that Imperials claim to do for the galaxy. I have also seen the slavery and genocide they have committed in the name of peace and security. I have seen the unnecessary death they have caused." For all of the condemnation behind her words her tone was almost entirely casual, everything about her demeanor conversational. There was no ill will wished towards him - not truly, at least - and she only wanted him to understand from which position she spoke.

"I hold no interest in joining your cause. The Imperials have no true friends among the vode."

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

"You must be joking...you have to be." Irridius' calm demeanor had given way pure puzzled disgust. "You truly think those savages are your family?" Irridius had studied the Mandalorians both during and after his service in The Galactic Republic. It would be imbecilic of him to do otherwise. The barbarians of Mandalore were the proudest and savage of the galaxy's warrior cultures and they would no doubt try to spread their filth to The Empire one day. Know your enemy to kill them.

But this...this mockery was unacceptable. "You weak-minded, incompetent, ill-cultured queen!" Irridius screamed at the holographic woman before him, his eyes turned dark and veins bulging from the sides of his head. "'The Vode?' You think the 'Vode' can offer you what I can? You think those barbarian hordes are strong enough to deny us what is rightfully ours? I thought you were so much more than this, a true revolutionary mind. But no, you are no different than the rats that burrow in the dirt and mud!"

Irridius' demeanor had completely changed, almost as if a completely different man had taken over in the blink of an eye.

 

[Keira Priest]

In stark contrast to his outrage Keira was indifferent, simply watching him as he talked down both to her and the entirety of her people. This wasn't the first time she had endured the tirade of an outsider who didn't understand that which he spoke of, and it likely wouldn't be the last. But she hadn't intended to provoke him initially, and as much as she responded in kind was content with working through this as calmly as possible. There was no reasoning with those who had become truly irrational, but she had learned long ago not to challenge them either. "You would do well to hold your tongue. Such an attitude is unbecoming of an Imperial." Of course, her way of going about things differed from how most would approach the situation.

"I never claimed to be anything. I can't take responsibility for whatever labels you placed on me yourself, just as much as I can't take responsibility for your disappointment that I don't live up to the standards you set for me." That he'd thought of her as anything close to an Imperial was laughable in and of itself, given that in the past she had led the Crusaders in skirmishes against the First Order, even going so far as to crash a ship into one of their planets. What made him think she would agree with his ideology after reading that report was a thought process she couldn't grasp, but she wouldn't press an issue he was already more than upset about. It was better to talk things through, however unwilling he seemed.

As they conversed - if this could be called a proper conversation anymore - she began to clean each part of the CW-77 as if this was still an entirely normal encounter even after the slew of insults he'd thrown at her in such a short span of time. In most other scenarios she would have reacted just as explosively but in more of a violent manner, but in this one she felt no real threat from the man before her. He was best comparable to a child throwing a temper tantrum, and all in all she had seen better behavior from her eight-year-old twins. He was making himself out as a man to be taken less and less seriously by the minute, and it was still astonishing to her that this was what he'd become.

"I don't look to my people for offers of grandiosity, and I don't preoccupy myself with it. They're my family, my brothers and sisters. They don't need to offer me anything, because a home and a place to rest my head is enough." She had never been one to seek out spectacular achievements or awards, content with luxuries that were otherwise simple facts of life for most inhabitants of the galaxy. Early on in her life things often seen as basic necessities to others became nothing short of luxury for her, even something as simple as having a place to rest her head only having become common in recent years. "If you have nothing constructive to say, then I suggest you end the conversation now."

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Darth Vulcanus]

[member="Keira Ticon"]

"How dare you, sniveling rat!" Irridius barked rabidly, pulling on the ends of each gloved finger, "you obviously know nothing of what it means to be Imperial, to have a purpose and duty!"

A long, gloved finger shot up and pointed right between Keira's eyes. Irridius stared her down, the look of a crazed mutt drawing down on her with the intensity of a blazing wildfire. He would not stand for this, he would not stand for this insult to everything he was and stood for. He would end her people. He would make her kneel. The Empire would not be denied. He would not be denied.

"They are nothing and they will die without a name to be remembered, like the dogs they are." Slowly the blind rage receded, fading into something else...something darker. Something malevolent that held no pity, remorse or guilt. It was an evil that wanted to eclipse the sun and let the shadows swallow her whole. "Not you though. You will be made to regret this day for the rest of your long, miserable life."

 

[Keira Priest]

All she could do was smile and life humorlessly, shaking her head and looking up into his rage-filled countenance with a crooked smile that was a trademark of all Corellians but a quiet determination behind her eyes that hailed to the second chance she had found among the Mandalorians. Combined those two cultures made for a hellish cocktail no sane person would want to contend with, but apparently he'd made it his life's mission in those few seconds to bring her to heel. He would be far from the first person to have tried, and not the first to fail, either. Her scars were testament of her ability to survive, and in comparison to the monsters she'd faced in the past his danger was different, more subtle and slow-acting in its design, but identical all the same.

"You're right, I don't know what it means to be Imperial. I don't know what it means to have an overinflated sense of self, to commit genocide on a whim, to preach peace while in reality only bringing more war. No, I don't know what it means to be part of a regime that will one day be wiped out and subject to the same fate as the Republic and their Sith counterparts. But I do know what it means to have purpose and duty, because I finally have one worth fighting for." Keira spoke with a conviction that was rare, her words burning with a quiet intensity that was oftentimes afforded more attention that the simple shouting that he seemed to have ceded himself to as their talk wore on.

Throughout her career as both a warrior and a makeshift politician she had never had the opportunity to speak at length with one who called themselves an Imperial, and now she saw why her brother had been more willing to go to war than attempt to maintain any kind of peace between their two nations. There was no reasoning with someone who was so irrational as to see themselves as retaining the high ground even after such an outburst that, if anything, only proved their incompetence as a superior and commanding officer. But that was neither here nor there, because he wasn't her better, regardless of what he liked to believe. In these minutes he'd only made himself out to be another enemy, and one that she was resigned to facing one day.

"Do you know what happened to the last few nations that brought war to our doorstep?" It appeared to be a rhetorical question at first, as she only met his gaze and stared him down just as he did the same, only continuing to speak once he seemed to have composed himself to some degree. "All of those that wished war upon the Mandalorians have summarily fallen, and I see no reason why yours should be any different. You bring no more than the Republic or Sith ever did. If anything you bring less, because at least when we spoke they knew how to maintain their composure."

At his final, lingering threat she only shook her head, expression and tone of voice both having taken on an edge he would recognize, for it was the same she often wore when speaking to the men she'd been the closest to in the Republic, which at one point had included the clone army and all that served with and among them. "For one that claims to have once looked up to me so fondly, you've truly fallen farther than I ever thought possible. It's upsetting, Irridius, it really is. When first we met you were on your way to becoming something great. Perhaps that wasn't within the Republic, but it certainly wasn't among the Imperials, either. You had so much to offer the galaxy, but you've decided to waste it. I'm disappointed."

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]