Private Politics of Polis Massa

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

The Masquerade dropped out of hyperspace, de-cloaking just outside of the system's defensive perimeter, it's pilot immediately hailing the station.

"Masquerade to docking control, requesting permission to land, how copy?" came the clipped voice of Darth Anathemous.

::Docking control to Masquerade, state your business::

...

There was a pause as the young Darth carefully considered her response. She had taken great care that she was not tracked nor that the Kainate could identify her presence here if tipped off, and she was well aware that, though these men were supposedly Tsis'kaar, loyalties could be bought just as easily as information. Governor Vax would have to forgive a little secrecy then.

"I have an important meeting with the governor."

::Masquerade, we are not expecting visitors at this time-::

"Docking control, inform the governor that this ship was sent by one Serina Calis, how copy."

...

::Wait one::

Anathemous sat back in the corellian leather seat, idly drumming her fingers across the arm rest whilst waiting for what she assumed would be permission to dock unimpeded. Her two guards meanwhile sat in identical seats on either side of her, carefully watching the ship's guns and scanners for hostile activity beyond simple flybys and escorts who were no doubt cautiously watching The Masquerade in kind. It had the makings of a tense situation and Anathemous would not begrudge them their concerns. Non force sensitives especially had more reason than most to be cautious in sith space, especially in these trying times, of which she had a hand in.

Although Governor Vax too was in the business of "liberating" territory through craft and guile as well, or so she'd heard.

Today would be most interesting indeed.

​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher Vax sat in his private chamber, the room dimly lit by a single glowing datapad on his desk. His crimson visor was absent, his helmet resting on a nearby stand, revealing sharp features carved by years of command and war. Across from him, Elara Thryne reclined in a chair, her blonde hair cascading over one shoulder, her fingers tracing delicate circles on the surface of his desk as she leaned forward with a playful smirk. The datapad between them displayed detailed mining claims across Polis Massa's asteroid fields, the holographic interface glowing faintly as the two discussed how best to allocate the resources.

"You know," Elara said, her tone dripping with licentious humor, "if you want Polis Massa to stay competitive, you'll need to play the market just right. Divide up the claims among multiple companies, but make sure they're just hungry enough to keep outbidding each other. Let them think they're rivals. Competition keeps profits flowing—and it keeps them too busy to think about anything other than making you richer."

Reicher smirked, leaning back in his chair as he studied the holographic display. "Intelligent and shameless," he remarked, his tone teasing but warm. "You know, if I didn't already have a dozen advisors, I'd put you in charge of this entire operation."

Elara tilted her head, her grin growing wicked. "Who needs a title? I'll settle for being your personal advisor, Commander. Though I must say, I'm much better at 'private consultations.'"

Reicher chuckled, shaking his head as he returned his attention to the datapad. "Focus, Elara. This is about economics, not... whatever you're imagining right now."

She leaned closer, resting her chin in her hand as her eyes sparkled mischievously. "Oh, I'm imagining a lot right now, Reicher. But I suppose I can behave—for now. I just hope those companies know how lucky they are to have your attention. And mine, by proxy."

Before Reicher could respond, his commlink buzzed sharply, interrupting their moment. He straightened, reaching for the device as the voice of his lead officer came through.

<Governor Vax, we have an unexpected visitor. A ship has arrived unannounced, hailing us under the name Masquerade. The pilot claims they have a meeting with you, and they mentioned… Serina Calis.>

Reicher froze, the name catching him off guard. Serina? What could she possibly have to do with this visitor? His thoughts raced as he stood, his expression hardening into one of curiosity and suspicion.

<Permit them to land,> he ordered, his voice steady. <Escort them to the administrative dock and direct them to my office. Ensure they are not disturbed or intercepted along the way.>

<Understood, sir.>

Reicher ended the transmission, his gaze narrowing as he turned to Elara. "Serina's name is not something I expected to hear today. Whoever this is, they've already piqued my interest."

Elara leaned back in her chair, her expression shifting to something softer, though no less intrigued. "Should I come with you, or is this one of those mysterious, brooding moments where you handle things alone?"

Reicher shook his head, grabbing his helmet and securing it over his head. The familiar hiss and click of the seals activating gave him a sense of readiness. "I'll handle this myself. Stay here and finish the allocations for the mining claims. I trust your judgment."

Elara pouted, though her eyes gleamed with approval. "So bossy, Commander. Fine. I'll stay and behave. But if this visitor is trouble, you'd better come back in one piece."

Reicher smirked faintly beneath his visor. "Always."

With that, he exited the room, his crimson visor glowing faintly as he strode through the polished halls of the station, accompanied by two guards. The journey to his office was brief, the footsteps of his retinue echoing against the metal walls. When he arrived, he dismissed his guards to wait outside, preferring to meet the mysterious visitor alone.

As he entered the office, he took his place behind the large, imposing desk that served as the room's centerpiece. The air was tense, anticipation thick as he waited for the Masquerade's pilot to arrive. His mind swirled with possibilities—who could this visitor be, and what did they want? More importantly, how did Serina Calis fit into this equation?

The door slid open, and Reicher's crimson visor fixed on the figure entering the room. The moment of truth had arrived.

​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

Kaila donned her mask, it's dark red visor not out of place among the legionnaires but no less alien in it's visage, the mark of an heir to the inquisitorius who no longer existed. To the rest of this empire, it was a new face among the sith, a face of steel and polarized theadian which Anathemous had purposefully kept off camera so that she may adopt this one in the public eye when the alternative best left out of sight and out of mind.

Aside from the cloaked commando droids following her black armored figure, and perhaps the blonde curls cascading from the helm's back, there was hardly a trace of the governor's presence to those who were not already familiar.

The droids were dismissed with merely a gesture as she entered the office, the metallic figures taking position opposite from Reicher's own guard, white optical plates staring unblinking and unmoving until further notice.

For her part, Anathemous otherwise entered without introduction nor fanfare. Gloved hands were clasped behind her back and at comfortable distance away from her lightsabers, and the governor was given a quick once over to make sure she was meeting the correct person. It was always interesting to see the difference between the dossier and the real thing, and truth be told, the documents didn't do him justice.

"Reicher Vax," she began, her voice hardly recognizable under the vocal modulator.

"Formerly a legionnaire of the of the Dorvalla garrison under one Major Gorran Trelix, briefly a commissioned lieutenant before leading the coup here during the incident on Echnos, capitalizing on the divided attention of the dark council, before being legitimized by assembly vote, backed by the Tsis'kaar."

"Quite the résumé." she hummed, though if she were genuinely impressed or not was difficult to tell with that mask on.

"A kindred spirit, perhaps, or merely an opportunist I wonder. Though your friend certainly spoke highly of you."

"I... would like to trust her."

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher leaned back in his chair, his crimson visor catching the dim light of his office as he studied the masked figure before him. The vocal modulator and polished armor gave Darth Anathemous an imposing air, but he could see through the layers of artifice to the purpose beneath. Her carefully chosen words, precise posture, and even the calculated timing of her arrival spoke volumes about her intent. Yet, despite the veneer of formality, Reicher approached the situation with the same calm, analytical charm that had earned him his position.

When she finished speaking, he allowed a brief pause, letting the weight of her words settle in the room. Then, leaning forward slightly, his tone was warm but laced with a sharp edge of wit. "Darth Anathemous," he began, his voice carrying a note of dry amusement, "I must say, I'm flattered. It's not every day one gets their résumé read back to them by someone of your stature. Though, I can't help but notice you left out a few accomplishments—modesty on my part, no doubt."

His words hung in the air, his tone neither defensive nor boastful, but rather one of a man fully aware of his own worth. He gestured lightly with one hand, a subtle wave as if brushing away the formality. "But let's not dwell too much on the history books. They rarely get the full story, and you seem like someone who prefers to hear things directly from the source."

Reicher leaned back again, his posture relaxed but his mind sharp. He was already processing everything she had said—and everything she hadn't. The mention of Serina was telling, as was her apparent uncertainty. He knew exactly how to bridge that gap.

"Word travels swiftly in the Calis-Vax family," he said, his tone softening as if to reassure her. "Serina reached out ahead of your arrival. She spoke highly of you as well, which, as I'm sure you know, isn't a courtesy she extends lightly. Whatever trust you've earned from her, you've earned from me as well."

His tone shifted dramatically to a low, deep, introspective tone, not to threaten, but to inform. “However, I understand that there are names better left buried, Kaila. We know this. The first rule of our family is simple, we hide nothing. Everything Serina knows, I know. This isn’t her not trusting you, or her betraying, it’s a matter of family.”

“We would give our lives for each-other.”

Beneath the surface of his words, Reicher's mind worked swiftly. He noted her deliberate phrasing—"kindred spirit" and "opportunist"—and the way she left room for interpretation. It was a test, and one he intended to pass with flying colors. She didn't know everything about him; that much was clear. He realized, with some satisfaction, that he had far more cards in his hand than she likely anticipated.

He tilted his head slightly, his visor catching her masked gaze. "As for what I am—whether kindred spirit or opportunist—I like to think the answer lies somewhere in between. I see opportunity where others see chaos. I seize it not out of greed, but because I know what can be built when the right people take action. And from what I gather, you're someone who understands that better than most."

His tone shifted, becoming more conversational, almost friendly. "But let's dispense with the formalities, shall we? I think we both know you didn't come all this way just to compare résumés. You're here because you want something, and you believe I can provide it. So, tell me—what brings you to Polis Massa, and how can I help?"

Reicher allowed a brief, thoughtful pause, his voice softening but remaining steady. "And, since we're being honest, I have to say—Serina wasn't wrong about you. You've got a presence that commands attention. But I can't help but feel you're testing me. That's fair—I'd do the same in your position. Just know this: I'm not a man who wastes time. If you need an ally, you have one. If you need results, you'll get them. But I suspect you already know that, or you wouldn't be here."

He leaned forward once more, resting his forearms on the desk as he met her gaze through her visor. "So, Darth Anathemous, let's hear it. What can Polis Massa do for you? And, more importantly, what can we achieve together?"

Reicher's tone was warm, almost inviting, but there was a sharpness in his words that reminded her he was no mere pawn in the greater game. He was a player, and one who had already calculated his next several moves.

​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

"Hmh."

Darth Anathemous was not a name she expected to hear from lips not her own, and though masked, it brought a knowing smile to her face. He was either quite clever, well informed, or both.

It seemed then there was no need for further deception with her identity kept safely within this room and helm to helm with a man who'd seen right through it, and so with a slight upward tilt of her chin, Anathemous removed her helm, affording him the honest courtesy of her expressions, and the ever vigilant stare of golden eyes which cast a light all their own in that artificially lit office.

She listened carefully to each shift in tone, nodding at the mention of Serina's particular characteristics and the nature of their family. While the concept of family was an alien concept to the peculiar Darth, causing her to glance elsewhere for but a moment, she could understand bonds which some may argue were family enough. The young dark jedi in the making was someone Anathemous had already grown quite fond of, and she could see why one might come to such an understanding with the young woman.

"It seems you lot are... quite fortunate."

"You are correct however, I will test you, and I do want something from you which Serina believes you will provide."

Anathemous took a seat, fingers drumming across the helm she laid on the desk before her.

"A simple defensive pact, you scratch my back should Echnos require aid, I scratch yours, everyone's happy."

"However..." the drumming stopped.

"You have me at a disadvantage that I must admit is unfamiliar to me."

There was a subtle vulnerability in the admission to follow, even hardly a fraction of what she and Serina shared on Ando. However there was a certain resolve in her eye, having accepted the peculiar position she found herself in and desiring to simply correct the situation to her benefit.

"Experience. Specifically, insight into the inner workings of a non-force sensitive soldier and how to lead them effectively. I shall be raising a force to accompany myself and the second legion on campaign soon, and though I have oft been the soldier, I realize that I have not yet led them as a commander."

"But you have."

"Show me how to lead them. Properly."

Anathemous leaned forward, fingers steepled, chin resting upon the resulting bridge.

"Your own forces are former legion, yes? No doubt a smaller bunch than the new legions I supply, though capable."

"I wonder what they could do with fresh, factory new equipment."

​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher leaned back in his chair, the crimson visor of his helmet glinting faintly as he considered Anathemous's words. Her unmasking was a gesture he appreciated—not because it revealed her identity, but because it symbolized trust, however tentative. Her golden eyes, filled with both intensity and curiosity, reminded him of someone who had just stepped onto the battlefield for the first time—confident but aware of the unknown. It was a look he knew well.

When she finished speaking, he allowed a brief silence to hang in the air before responding. "You know," he began, his tone lighter but still laced with that soldier's edge, "you could have just led with that. No need for all the posturing. I'm not here to test you or play games—I've had my fill of those during my time dealing with the Sith Order."

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk, his helmet still tucked under one arm. "A defensive pact? Done. It's practical, it's mutually beneficial, and honestly, it's the kind of cooperation the Empire needs more of if we're going to survive. You have my word: should Echnos ever call for aid, you'll find my forces standing with you."

Reicher's tone shifted, becoming more personal. "As for the rest—your desire to lead troops effectively, to understand them as more than just numbers on a deployment roster—that's something I respect deeply. Most Sith don't think twice about the people they command. To them, soldiers are tools, disposable. But you're different. You recognize that leadership isn't just about giving orders; it's about earning trust, building loyalty, and inspiring people to follow you into hell and back. That tells me you're already on the right track."

He straightened slightly, his posture taking on a more commanding air. "You're right that my forces are smaller than the grand legions of the Sith Order, but what they lack in numbers, they make up for in discipline and cohesion. These aren't just soldiers—they're people who've chosen to fight for something they believe in. That's what makes them dangerous. And that's what I'll teach you."

Reicher tapped his fingers lightly on the edge of the desk, his gaze steady. "We'll start with the basics. You'll learn how to read your troops, how to understand their strengths and weaknesses, and how to turn those into advantages on the battlefield. You'll learn to delegate, to trust your subordinates to carry out your orders, and to recognize when to adapt those orders based on the chaos of combat. Leadership isn't about micromanaging—it's about setting the tone, the example, and letting your people rise to meet it."

His tone softened slightly, a glimmer of humor creeping in. "And, since you mentioned 'factory new equipment,' I can tell you right now: gear doesn't win wars, people do. But new toys certainly don't hurt. If you're offering to upgrade my forces, I'm not too proud to say yes. Just don't expect me to trade discipline for fancy blasters. I’m not like Techie." He said that nickname is if Anathemous should know who it is, the recent battle against the incompetent idiot fresh in his mind.

Reicher leaned forward again, his voice steady and firm. "I'll show you everything I know, Anathemous. Not because I owe you or because Serina asked, but because I believe the Empire needs leaders who care about their troops—leaders like you. Together, we can build something stronger than either of us could alone."

​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

"Old habits, I suppose." a faint, knowing smile played at the corners of her lips.

"If it makes you feel any better, It's how I approach sith."

Or anyone deemed a sufficient enough threat to warrant reminding them who and what she was, even among allies. Sith respected a position of strength, or perhaps a certain attitude they associated with it at least. Governor Vax made the sort of waves which Sith did, and so she took a gamble treating the situation as if he were one.

Though she'd like to think it paid off in a way.

Otherwise, Reicher would find that she listened most intently, as Anathemous often did when learning new things, a sponge who's water was all knowledge pertaining to the dark side and combating it's enemies.

Even without the force, if need be.

Though she seemed to squint at the name "Techie", ignorant of context. However she understood the preceding statement, despite ruling a world whose entire economy was centered around that very gear which, alone at least, did not win wars. But could she better enable those who can? That was her hope.

"I'll show you everything I know, Anathemous. Not because I owe you or because Serina asked, but because I believe the Empire needs leaders who care about their troops—leaders like you. Together, we can build something stronger than either of us could alone."

"Hm."

Anathemous reclined in her seat, stroking her chin in thought as was a common sight around the warrior-sorceress.

"I never explained my motives." that knowing smile returned, rare as it had once been.

"But I think you are correct, or perhaps what Serina has told you, is correct. Contrary to the rumors surrounding Echnos, I value the stability and people of our empire. All our people."

Some would think her more imperial than sith, and perhaps they were right, though it seemed to her that long ago, the difference was not so easily defined as now. The barbarisms of the past were by no means glorious, but wisdom could be unearthed in even the darkest recesses of the past, if one had the talent to find it.

Though if she were to treat those unblemished by the force as equals, perhaps she must ask them the grand question.

"Do you believe in fate, Reicher Vax?"

​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher tilted his head slightly, the crimson visor of his helmet catching the dim light of the office. The question hung in the air between them, heavy and sharp, like a blade waiting to strike. He leaned back in his chair, folding his arms across his chest, the faint hum of his armor's servos a subtle reminder of the weight he carried—both physical and metaphorical.

"Fate," he said, the word rolling off his tongue with deliberate care. "The great cosmic chain that binds us all, or so the philosophers would have us believe. The Sith preach of power to break it, to bend the galaxy to their will. The Jedi claim to follow it, to align themselves with its flow. But me? I see it differently."

He paused, letting his words settle before continuing. "The Force exists, and so does fate. Denying that would be like denying gravity or the endless churn of war. But I don't see fate as a shackle, Anathemous. I see it as a post—something you stand at, something you hold. A soldier doesn't choose the battlefield; they stand where they're ordered, even if the sky is falling around them. And if that post demands my death, then so be it. I'll hold it."

Reicher leaned forward, resting his forearms on the desk as his voice lowered, becoming more measured, more personal. "But fate isn't just about the battlefield, is it? It's about people. Connections. Destiny. And sometimes, fate marks individuals for something greater—something that transcends the battlefield, the throne room, the council chambers."

His tone shifted, hinting at something deeper. "Serina… she's one of those people. She won't just survive the storms of this galaxy—she'll command them. She doesn't realize it yet, but she has the potential to become something greater than the Sith, greater than the Empire itself. She'll bend fate, not just for herself, but for all of us. A force like that doesn't just conquer—it redefines what victory even means."

Reicher's gaze was steady, unflinching. "Me? I'm not destined for that kind of glory. My fate is simpler: to hold the line, to ensure that those who can rise above the chaos have the chance to do so. If my death can pave the way for someone like Serina, or even for you, then I'll die with purpose. But until that moment comes, I'll stand at my post, blade in hand, and do what I've always done: endure."

He leaned back again, exhaling slowly, his tone softening but retaining its steel edge. "So yes, I believe in fate. But not as a chain or a prison. To me, fate is a battlefield. You hold your ground, fight your fight, and hope that when the dust settles, you've done enough to tip the scales for those who'll come after you."

Reicher's helmet tilted slightly, as if appraising Anathemous. "The real question, Darth Anathemous, is this: are you fated to conquer? Or fated to serve?"

​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

"Endure."

she echoed almost mournfully.

It was a word with deep meaning to Anathemous, such that one might argue it was a defining characteristic of her tale. Though perhaps it was so for many Imperials, strengthened by their suffering, if dosed properly so that immunity may take hold, and standing defiant in the face of a universe which hates them. Theirs was a bitter pride.

Reicher however, had come to understand the cycle in a flavor young Darth had yet to taste before.

Somehow it felt so humble and yet simultaneously so ambitious as to be fitting of a sith imperial all the same. The measured response of a soldier tempered by experience, yet sharpened by passion. Indeed a blade of the imperium.

Perhaps the eternalist church was truly wise to extend sith customs to those unable to feel it's dark pull.

"The real question, Darth Anathemous, is this: are you fated to conquer? Or fated to serve?"

"Can one not do both, I wonder?"

Anathemous would stroke her chin in thought, her gaze distant as she recalled the many times she had been asked of fate herself. So many times had she failed to produce an answer, lost in the endless black sea between the stars.

She had since begun to chart a course.

"A shield serves, a sword conquers. Times are changing, and I believe our empire shall need both soon enough."

The petty factionalism needed to die, she knew this now. But even so, the ambitious would remain in their ranks and without vigilance they may cast the order into chaos once again. Surrounded by enemies abroad and domestic, more sith would find themselves taking up the shield to guard their backs whilst cleaving away the belighted rot of the jedi beyond their borders.

"Whatever her fate may be, I would like there to be a home to whence the girl might return from her crusade, and so we must learn to preserve and destroy in equal measure."

It was plain to see by the soft light of her eye that Anathemous seemed to care for the girl in her own way.

"How is she...?"

​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher's crimson visor tilted downward slightly, a subtle shift that mirrored the weight of the question. For a moment, the hum of the office's faint lighting and the distant murmur of Polis Massa's machinery filled the silence, underscoring the gravity of the subject. When he finally spoke, his voice was measured, but there was a distinct undertone—a sadness that could not be entirely masked.

"Serina's status…" he began, pausing as though choosing his words carefully, "…is classified. It's information that remains within the family for now. Not because I doubt your intentions, Darth Anathemous, but because the stakes are far higher than even you might realize. When the time comes, you will know, just as those closest to her will know. But until then… she walks a path that cannot be fully shared, not yet."

The crimson glow of his helmet caught a glint of light as he shifted his posture, leaning slightly forward, his tone softening. "I wish I could tell you more. I truly do. But to protect her—to protect what she's becoming—secrecy is necessary. Even within the family, there's an unspoken understanding that we don't pry too deeply. Not because we don't care, but because we trust her and the process she's undertaking."

He exhaled slowly, the sound carrying faint static through his helmet's modulator. "Serina's fate is… different. You see that, don't you? She's not just another soldier or Sith. She's destined to become something greater, something that defies the limitations placed on all of us. And that path, as much as it inspires, also isolates. It's a heavy burden, one that I can only hope she carries better than I ever could."

For a moment, he seemed to drift, his voice taking on a reflective quality. "We don't talk about it, but… every member of the family feels it—the weight of her destiny. It's both a blessing and a curse to watch someone rise so far above you, knowing you can only stand at the edges and hope your presence somehow helps."

Reicher straightened, the authoritative tone of a commander returning as he closed the personal moment. "Trust me when I say, Darth Anathemous, that you will have your answers when the time is right. Until then, guard her name with the care I know you can muster. She deserves that much—and more."

The slight dip of his helmet conveyed a rare flicker of vulnerability, the soldier who endured giving way, if only briefly, to the brother who mourned the distance fate had placed between him and Serina. "For now, let's focus on what we can control. And trust that she'll find her way, as she always does."

​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

"Classified?!" Kaila spat.

She gripped the arm rest, leaning forward as she if she spring up to bring Serina back herself.

But Anathemous relented, her features softening just a little as Reicher explained the situation in more— albeit somewhat cryptic detail. She sighed, drumming her fingers anxiously against the chair, though her rhythm slowed near the end of his explanation. There was a lot to consider. Serina's unyielding confidence, Reicher's understanding of fate, and even her own knowledge of the girl's abilities even if but a fraction of the true scope.

While the odds were not favorable, there was still the off chance that this family were more than deluded cultists obsessed with using their only force sensitive to achieve their own perceived greatness.

It was possible, she supposed, that they were both telling the truth and had Serina's best interest at heart.

The sorceress had seen stranger things after all.

"Very well, I... will ask her myself, when next we meet." she pinched the bridge of her nose.

"But if you find that she requires aid, do call on me."

"She is-" like family.

Could she say that? Anathemous hadn't the faintest clue if that was what one called this feeling or not, for she had nothing to compare it to, not since her memories were stolen. Did she ever have a family of her own?

Kaila folded her arms, unsure how to answer her own question, nor how to express what exactly Serina meant to her. Could she even trust the ears around her with these thoughts?

"She is important to me."

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher's crimson visor snapped toward Kaila, the faint hum of his armor's servos barely masking the sudden intensity of his movements. The measured calm he had maintained shattered in an instant, his voice rising like a storm breaking against a fragile shore. Reicher was a quiet man, an epitome of calmness and serenity, but when his wrath was incurred, no mortal could dare to stand against it.

"Classified?! Yes, classified!" he roared, his modulated tone cutting through the air like a blade. "Do you think this is a game, Darth Anathemous? That Serina's fate is some trivial detail for you to pry at? You presume to spring up, storm out, and demand answers like some self-appointed savior? You forget yourself!"

His fist slammed against the desk, the sound reverberating through the room and sending his elite, veteran guards, warriors of countless campaigns, cowering before him, it was clear they never had seen this man truely angry before. For a moment, his anger filled the space, an unrelenting force born of frustration, fear, and an unspoken guilt that had festered for far too long.

But then, just as quickly as it had come, the fire dimmed. Reicher's shoulders slumped ever so slightly, and his voice softened, weighted now with a sorrow that seemed to age him in the span of a breath.

"You don't think I want to tell you everything? That I don't want to scream to the galaxy what Serina is facing, what she's becoming, and how much it terrifies me?" He exhaled shakily, his helmet tilting downward, the red glow of his visor casting a faint, somber light on the desk before him. "But I can't. Not because I don't trust you—Force knows, Serina trusts you, and that's enough for me—but because I don't even know if I deserve to know everything myself."

He paused, his hands gripping the edge of the desk as though it were the only thing keeping him upright. When he spoke again, his tone was quieter, almost hollow. "I wasn't there for her when it mattered most. When she needed a brother, I was too consumed by duty, by the damnable machine of war, to see what was right in front of me. And now… now she's walking this path alone, a path I can't follow, no matter how much I might want to."

Reicher lifted his visor, allowing it to be seen through, meeting Kaila's gaze with a vulnerability that seemed almost foreign to the hardened soldier. "You say she's important to you? Good. Because I need you to be there for her in ways I never was. If she needs you, you better move the light and the dark to answer her call, because that's what I'd do if I could. That's what I'd do if fate didn't have me stuck here, playing governor while she faces force knows what."

The room fell silent, the weight of his words settling like ash after a fire. Reicher straightened slowly, his posture regaining some of its former strength, though the cracks in his armor—literal and figurative—remained visible.

"So, yes. Ask her when the time comes. Be there for her. But until that moment, Never, ever question the choices this family has made to protect her. Because we're all she has."

His tone became sharp, deafeningly threatening, but it was extremely easy to tell this came from the side of an overprotective brother-in-law who just wanted to keep his sister-in-law safe, not out of any hate or malice towards the Sith who had brought herself before him.

“If you ever try to question my commitment to her, our commitment to her safety and her preservation, or her commitment to us again…”

“Echnos, the Kainite, the Tsis’Kaar, The Jedi. Everyone who has or will wrong her.”

“They. Will. Burn.”

​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

If only he had been Sith, he would have felt the cold shift in the air as Anathemous fell back on the silence which once characterized the young Darth. Yet he was not sith. The governor of Polis Massa had forgotten himself.

Anathemous leaned forward, her lips veiled behind steepled fingers, and once she had settled into that deceptively neutral expression for which she was known, Anathemous didn't move a muscle. She didn't need to. Even before he had finished, consumed by the protective passions which with any other approach would have been admirable, the walls began to subtly rattle around the office.

“They. Will. Burn.”

Several lights suddenly shattered around the room, leaving him alone in the dark with but the hunched silhouette of Darth Anathemous, and her molten glare which shone clear as stars in the nightsky which stared back at him unblinking, inhuman in their primal focus despite the control she was exhibiting by remained seated there.

Even as the glass hovered gently around them, bathing the office in an eerie chime as shards drifted aimlessly around them, Anathemous showed no other outward signs of her outburst.

"You are... fortunate, Reicher." she began, somewhere between a soft whisper and a dragon's hiss.

"That I am nothing like my master..."

"...and that you've... convinced me, of your faith."

Though her anger at being threatened as if she was still that pathetic acolyte first brought to Carnifex continued to radiate through the force like the cold breeze which heralded a winter storm, Anathemous slowly exhaled, exiling some of the tensions from her body as she took a calmer, yet no less commanding tone, in that it was controlled but broached no argument.

"You would do well to remember, as governor, that you will encounter sith more brutish than I."

"And that I am sith."

Anathemous allowed her eyes to close for but a moment, exhaling a little more of the... excitement out of her system.

"Perhaps we should collect our thoughts and do this again sometime."

​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher sat motionless amidst the quiet aftermath of shattered glass and the eerie hum of tension still clinging to the air. The faint red glow of his visor illuminated the jagged shards that floated around the room, casting fleeting reflections across his armor. He inhaled deeply, the weight of his outburst pressing heavily on his shoulders.

When he spoke, his tone was devoid of its earlier fury, stripped down to something raw and fragile—a melancholic murmur that seemed at odds with the stoic figure he usually projected.

"You'll understand, Kaila," he said quietly, his modulated voice softer now. "When you're told the truth about Serina… when you know what happened, you'll understand why I lost my composure. Why the mere thought of her being unprotected shreds every ounce of restraint I have."

His gaze, though obscured by his helmet, seemed to bore into the woman across from him, lingering on her molten eyes. The silence that followed was heavy, almost suffocating, as if the room itself mourned the weight of unspoken truths.

Reicher leaned back slightly, his fingers resting on the edge of his desk as he tilted his head down, as though the act of maintaining eye contact would betray more of his vulnerability. The faint hum of the shards slowly subsiding to the floor punctuated the stillness. He let the quiet stretch for a moment longer before his voice cut through, a question that seemed to come from a deeply personal place.

"Do you have any family, Kaila?"

The question hung in the air, not as an interrogation but as an invitation—an offer to share in the understanding of what it meant to carry the unbearable weight of protecting those you hold dear. It was an olive branch, a small gesture meant to bridge the gulf left by their clash, and perhaps, to remind them both of what they stood to lose.

​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

The glass dropped to the floor around her as Anathemous' eyes opened again.

"I never did." she said flatly.

"And if you want her to have one when she returns, I suggest you tread more carefully around sith."

Anathemous departed her seat with a regal grace uncharacteristic of one so filled by jagged ice as she, approaching the door as if there was simply nothing left to say. It wasn't that she didn't understand, Anathemous did in her own way, having formed a few fleeting bonds of her own, however a faint residue of pride remained within the sith's cold heart, and she knew furthermore the inner workings of imperial culture.

Had he chosen to speak to her this way in front of another, she would have been forced to crush his windpipe right there.

She could not afford to look weak, and already afforded him a mercy which few of her peers would. Better that she leave now with a threat of her own already delivered, lest she be responsible for another national incident.

But not without imparting what she believed to be hard earned wisdom.

Anathemous stopped at the door with a sigh, leaning forward with one hand against the door as she regarded him over her shoulder.

"...I may not understand family, But I know bonds." she began almost tiredly, recalling bitter memories.

She didn't hate the man, but rather that he reminded her of both who she had once been, and the sorts of behavior she once put up with. Still put up with, it seemed, if his continued breath was anything to go by.

"...I had a lover, once."

She glanced over her shoulder, a little bit of that fiery glow having since dimmed.

"And I learned the hard way that sometimes, endangering yourself needlessly, can sting them deeply as betrayal."

​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher remained seated as the glass settled with faint, melodic chimes around them. His posture was still, almost contemplative, as he listened to Kaila's measured words. The rawness of her tone, the weight of her memories, resonated with him more than he had anticipated. He didn't speak immediately, letting the echoes of her past linger in the air between them like a fragile thread neither dared to sever too soon.

When he finally spoke, his voice was softer, stripped of its earlier fire but filled with genuine understanding.

"I appreciate your candor," he said gently. "And I understand more than you might think. I don't fault you for how you feel, Kaila, nor for the advice you've given. I know what you're saying is true—recklessness and pride have been the undoing of countless bonds, and I've spent my life trying not to repeat those mistakes."

He leaned forward slightly, resting his arms on the desk as if the act grounded him. "It's just… sometimes I wonder if anyone will truly care about her. Not because she's a symbol of power or fate, not because she's the key to something greater, but because of who she is. Because of Serina, the person—not the prophecy."

Reicher paused, his helmet tilting downward as though the weight of his thoughts pressed heavily on him. The silence stretched again, and he let it, finding solace in the quiet before he finally continued.

"I'm just glad she has you. Even if you don't call it family, even if the word feels foreign to you, I think you might be the closest thing she has to someone who truly cares for her, without strings or expectations."

His voice dropped further, filled with a sincerity that was impossible to deny. "And I hope—truly hope—you'll never stop being that for her."

Reicher allowed himself a faint sigh, his visor tilting up to meet her glowing gaze, though his own expression remained hidden. "I've already arranged another meeting for us," he said, his tone matter-of-fact but not without warmth. "You'll have all the time you need to prepare, and I'll be ready and organised, not surprised next time, I promise. We'll discuss strategy, logistics, and whatever else you require."

“I just wasn’t… I wasn’t ready, I wasn’t in the mindset today.”

As she turned to leave, he stopped her with one final, quiet statement, his words carrying an almost wistful weight. "Serina described you once," he said. "She called you the kindest, most compassionate person she's ever met."

He leaned back slightly, his voice steady but tinged with a hint of melancholy. "You might not think of yourself that way, Kaila, but I believe her. And I think, deep down, so do you."

Reicher let the silence envelop them once again, his words lingering as a quiet acknowledgment of respect and gratitude.

​

 

[Kaila Irons]

Location: Polis Massa
Wearing: Armor
Tag: Reicher Vax

Kaila's sigh was pained, her hand against the door clawing into a fist as she turned away.

"She... she makes me feel very selfish things, talking like that."

She smiled faintly, but Kaila could feel the tear welling in her eye, and was glad for the darkness which wreathed the room around her, lest once again allow a stranger to see.

"I don't know anything about a prophecy. I don't even know how to describe what she and I have."

"I just know that she isn't here, and that it bothers me."

Comrade, friend, or something more, she enjoyed the girl's company and now Kaila had no idea where the bloody hell she was. Either of those things were difficult to find among the order and she had lost too many already. Betrayal, sparks grown cold, death. These things so far beyond her control had robbed her of too many people already, and the one man who could tell her if it was too late to act or not refused to explain what the frakk was even happening.

It was selfish to demand more of him, she knew, just as her reasons for doing so were, perhaps.

And that knowledge did little to comfort.

"I'm tired of losing people, Vax..."

"I am sith. Nothing should be beyond my control, not even fate."

"I should... be there, for her."

​

 

[Reicher Vax]

Polis Massa
Equipment: Standard Issue Sith Trooper Armor, Vibroblade, Standard Issue Blaster Rifle, Datapad, Cloak
Tag: Kaila Irons

"Unexpected guests."
​

Reicher sat in the dim light of his office, her words hanging in the air like the aftermath of a storm. He leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders easing as he processed what Kaila had said. Her pain, her frustration—it wasn't unfamiliar to him. In fact, it echoed his own in ways he hadn't expected.

For a moment, he stared at the empty wall beyond her, his mind drawn back to the question she'd posed earlier: Do you believe in fate?

"I don't think any of us want to believe fate controls us," he began, his tone steady but introspective, tinged with the weight of his own regrets. "We tell ourselves we're strong enough, smart enough, capable enough to bend it, to shatter it if we must. That's the Sith way, isn't it? To conquer everything, even the will of the universe."

He paused, glancing down at his gloved hands resting on the desk, hands that had held weapons, carried comrades, and now carried the burden of leadership.

"But there's a cruelty to fate, one we can't always fight. It doesn't care about our strength or our ambition. It doesn't even care about what we love. It takes from us, Kaila, again and again, without mercy. And every time it does, it leaves us with nothing but questions. Could we have stopped it? Could we have saved them?"

He sighed, his visor tilting up toward her, though his face remained obscured. "I've asked myself those questions more times than I care to admit. And the answer's always the same. I can't change what's already happened. I can only stand my ground, hold my post, and do everything in my power to make sure the next person I care about doesn't slip through my fingers."

Reicher stood slowly, his imposing frame casting a faint shadow in the low light. His voice softened, carrying a quiet conviction. "You want to be there for her. I know that. And if anyone can defy the will of fate to do it, it's you. But you can't carry that burden alone. No one can."

He stepped closer, his tone losing some of its somber edge as he tried to reach her, to reassure her. "That's what she sees in you, you know. That stubbornness. That defiance. It's why she trusts you. Why I trust you."

Reicher let the silence linger for a moment, then spoke again, his voice resolute but not without compassion. "You'll find a way to be there for her, Kaila. I believe that. And when the time comes, I'll make sure you have everything you need to make it happen. But for now… trust me. Trust her. And trust yourself."

He straightened, nodding toward the door. "Fate may not be ours to control, but if we stand together, we can damn well make sure it works in her favour."

​