The Hound of Blood and Rank (Tegaea)

[Avicus DuSang]

Coruscant - The DuSang Estates

The wine was flowing. Overlooking the citywide planet, the nobility celebrated their wealth and prestige. Servants were everywhere, accomidating the guests to the best of their abilities. The host of the evening spared no expense. Each of these parties were a grand spectacle to narcissism.

Commoners whispered of them in the streets below. But, their wildest expectations proved to be but a miniscule amount of the extravagence found here. Millions was spent on the feast alone. The finest ingredients shipped in from all corners of the Galaxy. And most of the food wouldn't even be consumed, discarded shortly after the last guest departed.

Surrounded by a flock of noblewomen, most younger then his daughter, was Avicus DuSang. The head of the Noble House of DuSang. A respected and feared member of the House of Lords. A breaker of hearts. Most of these girls were here through the will of their parents. A marriage into House DuSang would be a dream come true. It was all about prestige.

But, these were the same girls that grew up with his darling Ophelia. And, no matter how beautiful they had become in adulthood, he saw them still as children. Still, he entertained them in conversation. Danced the night away with them. But always sent them home with their parents.

No matter how much they begged to retire for the evening.

He wore a white silk suit. A glass of brandy in one hand, and a cigarette in the other. His entourage was hushed as the nobleman recounted a tale from his time with the Empire. How they ate those stories. They hung on every word. Through his empathy, he could feel their admiration for him. Most of them had fallen in love with him. All wanted him to take them. A combination of his dark aura mixed with tales of his prowess they had overheard from their mothers gossiping to one another.

He'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy the attention. And some nights, it was difficult to resist their advances. But, that was due to an abundance of alcohol. Captivated by their beauty. He simply had to tell himself he would regret it in the morning. For these women didn't hold a candle to the many fine jewels of the Galaxy. Jewels who had stolen his heart.

The most precious of those stones was Ophelia's mother.

Tonight, however, was different. For the first time in centuries, an outsider would bear witness to the excess of the nobility. A representative of OmegaPyre, the private military company that had been growing in power and noteriety within the Galaxy, had received permission from Avicus himself.

A week had passed since the company contacted him. They requested to speak with him. He accepted after much thought. Not because he felt a strong desire towards the company or their goals. But because he was bored. These galas were a weekly event. The only reason he attended or hosted was because of social requirements.

Attendance was status. Hosting the grandest parties of the month was status. Being the most active dancer in the hall was status. Every blunder in etiquette lowered status. And status was everything to the nobles. Status even carried over into the House of Lords.

But, over the years, it had all grown so stagnant.

 

[Valiens Nantaris]

Tegaea Alcori entered the party with a considerable amount of reluctance. She wore a dress which was as formal as she got. Frankly she disliked the whole formality of these occasions. On the other hand, this was an interesting opportunity in potential.

Omega Pyre had grown much, now merely part of the larger Omega Protectorate which was now growing exponentially in the south of the galaxy. But still, she had received an invitation to come here, to meet with this man who ruled as a noble here.
For protection...knowing of her host's history...she had brought along Colonel Maelion Liates, a woman who was far more than met the eye. Being immune to Force suggestions was a good thing.

So Tegaea mingled with some reservation at the party. She disliked most aristocrats on principle, which might not bode well for Lord DuSang when he chose to come and meet her....

 

[Avicus DuSang]

Damian LaBlanche, the nobleman's assistant approached Avicus and whispered in his ear. His guest had arrived, plus one. Snuffing out his cigarette, he finished his brandy. "Excuse me, ladies. I have some business to attend to." Smirking, he made his way to the two women of the Protectorate, mingling as he did so.

Yellow eyes fell on the pair. They stuck out in a crowd of familliar faces. Approaching them, he bowed his head. "Exarch Alcori. Colonel Liates. I am Lord DuSang. Welcome to my home. Please, indulge in any and all luxuries provided as you wish." They were his guests afterall. He had to be a proper host.

"Of course, we'll retire to my study to find some peace and quiet. No sense talking business amongst all the festivities." The Exarch held such reluctance to being here. He held an outstretched hand towards her. "Would the lady care for a dance?"

 

[Valiens Nantaris]

Tegaea was not one for dancing. Unlike her host she had not grown up in a world of parties and balls, but on battlefields and slums across the galaxy. Moreover, she was not especially keen to dance with someone who might end up her subordinate. He was altogether the wrong type for her. The wrong gender for a start.
"No thank you, Mr DuSang, I would prefer if we discussed out business," she replied politely. "If you wish to finish what you were doing first, by all means do so." She smiled diplomatically.

 

[Avicus DuSang]

"Do all the women of the Protectorate possess the frigidness that comes with ruthless business? Also, you shouldn't flatter yourself so much, Exarch. I asked your hand for a brief dance. Not wedlock." He gave a pleasant smile as he turned around, olive fingers motioning for his guests to follow.

Passing through the myriad of aristocracy, he shook hands and kissed knuckles. Always with a smile on his face. As he reached the banquet table, a woman approached him holding a piece of exotic fruit. She moved it seductively over his lips before he took it into his mouth, licking the sweet juices off of her fingers. Biting her bottom lip, she gave him a wink and walked off.

Going up a grand staircase, the Dark God and his guests were greeted by Damian. The nobleman's asssistant opened a door for them, motioning for them to enter. Inside was Avicus' study. A large fire crackled in the fireplace, orange light dancing around the room. Most of the walls were built in bookshelves, brimming with leather bound tomes. There sat a desk, two chairs placed in front, one behind.

"Have either of you ladies ever been to Onderon? The jungles are infamously deadly, yet it holds the Galaxy's sweetest fruit." Walking behind the desk, he opened a drawer, producing three glasses and a bottle of brandy. Pouring out appropriate servings, he picked up one glass, the other two carried to his guests by black tendrils of the force. "But, back to basics, yes?" he asked, sitting down as he sparked up a cigarette.

"What niche do you need me to fill in your rapidly expanding regime?"

 

[Valiens Nantaris]

Tegaea gave Lord DuSang an unfriendly look. "We possess a desire to do business effectively," she corrected tartly. She reflected that she was sounding a lot like Maelion.

She took the glass from the air. The use of the Force for such trivial matters had always struck her somehow as a waste. Perhaps hypocritical considering Siobhan used it such sometimes. Perhaps she was just in a bad mood.
"I have been to Onderon, or rather the jungle moon of Dxun. Many years ago I worked on a job there. A very strange place. Dangerous."

She waited until Maelion drunk. When the Terminatrix detected no toxins or poisons Tegaea sipped. It was strong, but pleasant tasting.

"That is a question we had for you, Mr DuSang. You requested an interview. What do you have, in short, that we would want?"

 

[Avicus DuSang]

She had been to Dxun? The infamous moon that could kill someone a hundred thousand ways before breakfast? Perhaps he had judged her too quickly. Now he was interested. "The Demon Moon is much like a Sith Mistress. Ruthless. Inventive in the art of killing. And yet, her steamy landsape calls to you. Beautiful, and there is sweetness in all the right places."

The Exarch was an incredibly cautious, almost borderline paranoid, woman. No doubt, a product of his reputation. But, the notion he would poison a good bottle of brandy that he, himself, was drinking from was just silly. He took a drag off of a cigarette, sipping the contents of the glass. "Five sixty six. Such an excellent year." he mused to himself, the smoke rolling out of his lips.

His eyes closed, pondering her question. "The Galaxy is in a state of war, Exarch Alcori. Always has been. Always will be. The reason, of course, is the need to hoard. If you have enough resources and power, then you can throw them at the next pandemic or invading force that takes it's place at the top of our nightmares. There's something significant that sets us apart from most of the others in attendance here tonight. We three are killers."

He stood up, walking to the fireplace. One hand behind his back, the other resting on his goatee. "And that's just what you need. But, no ordinary killer. You need a killer with etiquette and grace. Someone who can be the politician once the smoke from battle clears. Someone who is deadly efficient, yet also dangerously cunning. A warrior. A politician. A philosopher. These were my roles in the Empire. And my skills in these titles have not grown dull in my years outside of the Sith."

Walking back to the desk, he sat back down. "Speaking of the Empire, you've proved to be quite a thorn in Her Majesty's side. You know it's only a matter of time before the Republic sees you as a threat. And when they do, they'll throw you to the rancors. Are you prepared for that day? Are you prepared for war in multiple theaters, against multiple opponents?"

 

[Valiens Nantaris]

Tegaea sniffed. "Dxun was more like a Mandalorian to my mind; brutal, bloody and covered in mud. I was there two months on contract before I joined Omega Pyre, hunting down some fugitives. Irony is of course that we never got to engage them. Like us, the weather, the beasts, the outlaws took care of them, and half my troops before we realised the targets were all dead. Not somewhere I'd choose to return to."

@[member="Avicus DuSang"] seemed to have misinterpreted the politics of the situation drastically. The Empire was a long, long way away, safely ensconced in the old Sith heartland and beyond. They had not only Mandalorians but the Republic and Jedi to pass through before they could ever come upon the Protectorate. Likewise the Republic derived so much of its supplies, raw materials and trade through the Corellian trade zones that war would be a foolish prospect. Especially since the Sith were a clear and present danger to the Republic.

Still, she did not correct him yet.
"I've killed, but I don't consider myself a killer, Mr DuSang. I kill in battle, in hot blood, not cold. it is true that we have uses for such people, but I wonder mightily if you understand what your role would be in our organisation. I will be blunt, we do not favour the Sith or their methods. In alignment and philosophy we are closer to the Republic, though still different in key areas. I will ask you straight up; how do we know we can trust you?"

 

[Avicus DuSang]

He chuckled to himself. She seemed to have misinterpreted the culture of the Mandalorian people drastically. They were a proud people. A legacy of warriors that filled any history book as often as the Jedi or Sith.

"A fool's errand anyway. Dxun rarely gives up her living. She never gives up her dead. But, you felt her soil beneath your boots and are here now to tell the tale. That, in itself, is reason to toast to you. Cheers."

Finishing off his glass of brandy, he poured himself another glass. Sparking up his now extinguished cigarette, he took a long drag. "Then I shall be straight up in my answer. You can't." The smoke rolled out of his lips.

"Just as the same that I cannot trust you. That whole rhetoric about killing. Do you honestly believe that? You just going to throw gold paint on murder and call it good? Sorry to enlighten you, but motivation and reason are irrelevant when it comes to taking a life."

He took the final drag off of his cigarette, snuffing it out. "I haven't been affiliated with the Sith in.well over a decade. I am a representative in Coruscantian government. So, your opinions of the Sith and Republic mean little to me."

The smoke rolled out of his lips as he continued. "But if you really need assurance, the fact that I haven't dismissed you and your guest despite your run of offensive, xenophobic habits will have to make due. And here I thought we'd conduct business like professionals."

 

[Valiens Nantaris]

Tegaea rose to her feet and carefully put the glass down. "I see, thank you for your frankness. I am not entirely sure why you invited us here, if only to lecture us. We could certainly use your abilities in a contract role...if that is the case we will be in touch. Thank you for your hospitality, Mr DuSang. Enjoy your party."

She turned to go, Maelion falling in behind her.

 

[Avicus DuSang]

The door closed before she could leave. "Exarch Alcori, I believe we got off on the wrong foot. I didn't invite you hear to lecture you. And I certainly didn't invite you here to waste anyone's time."

Sparking up another cigarette, he took a long drag. "So, please sit and let us conduct business like two civilized individuals." The smoke rolled out of his lips before he continued.

"Just as your budding government likens itself to the Republic, just different in key areas. My proximity to the Sith is much like the same. Still, I grow tired of this stigma. It's bad for our business discussions."

He paused, sipping his drink. "I left the Empire on not the best terms. I hold no ill will to you or anyone in your company. So, betraying your trust in any way doesn't benefit me at all.

"Put me on the battlefield, and watch your enemies crumble. Put me on the Senate floor, and watch your rivals eat out of your palm. Keep a watchful eye on me. Keep me on a tight leash." Another sip of his brandy.

"I won't let you down."

 

[Valiens Nantaris]

Tegaea had the door slammed before she could leave. That annoyed her, though she was pleased he took a more conciliatory tone with her. She turned.
"So it seems. Still, the final decision is not mine. We have an upcoming operation which you will be offered a contract for on a temporary basis (Eriadu). When that is over, we will meet with the Protector and she will decide your final status."
Passing the buck? More, responsible and prudent. After all, a Sith Master was not one you willingly upset without backup, and a brief contract would allow her to see if he did indeed have the skills he boasted. If she was honest with herself she didn't like Avicus, and the feeling was probably mutual. They were from completely opposite sides of almost every spectrum. Although she could see Avicus as a useful tool, it was a tool with so many drawbacks as to be an uncertain bet. Still, she would pass the responsibility to @[member="Cira"].

 

[Valiens Nantaris]

((After Eriadu)) @[member="Cira"]

In the aftermath of the downfall of the last of the Tarkins, Tegaea had returned to Fondor with much of her forces, and had decided to bring @[member="Avicus DuSang"] before Lady Protector Cira. It was there two of them together which would decide what his status in the Protectorate was.
Sensing that things might not go entirely as planned...she'd asked @[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"] to be 'around' in case things got out of hand. Taking nothing away from Cira, but Sith Masters were not...predictable.

 

[Avicus DuSang]

Much of his stay within the Protectorate had not been friendly. Most viewed him with mistrust, animosity at times, it came through in their mannerisms and tone. Although it was never spoken, the general consensus seemed to ask why he was here instead of the Empire.

And now, he was about to go through his probationary review.

He scoffed at the notion. A whole five seconds of battle would determine if he was the right man for OmegaPyre or not. Shaking his head, yellow eyes closed. He was frustrated, but not broken.

@[member="Thadd Zarr"] seemed to be the only person in the Protectorate who held no ill will towards him. Even Exarch Alcori held hostilities towards him. And, although the Sith Master didn't much care for her either, he still respected her. She lead like she earned her position. And, she survived Dxun.

The latter always earned his respect.

Running fingers along his goatee, he waited his summons. Perhaps the Lady Protector didn't hold such hostilities towards him. But, that seemed to be a fool's wish.

Everyone in the Protectorate seemed to wish his leave, if not worse. Would @[member="Cira"] truly be any different? His fate within the budding government rested on her shoulders. Exarch Alcori would almost certainly want him out.

And if that was the decision of the Lady Protector, then so be it. He would take his credits and he would depart. He was, afterall, unarmed. Well, sans the Force, but his sabers were in his quarters.

His reputation alone earned much distrust.