Whispers of the Past

[Kyyrk]

Voph stood on a balcony overlooking the capital city of Abridon, musing quietly to himself. The planet's recovery had gone smoother than most. Voph was not quite ready to withdraw the Bastion and move on to the next planet, however. There was still work to be done. The planet's economy was in a poor state. It had very little resources to become self sufficient. Voph's mind was placed at ease, however. Certain elements from the Confederacy had taken note of his mission here.

Madalena had joined him to help improve the state of the planet's defense force. Or that's what he had believed when he had first learned she was coming. And yet, she used the other name. [member="Scherezade deWinter"] had regained her mind, it seemed. Voph would certainly welcome the help either way. Her presence meant he was able to focus on negotiating trade agreements with the nearby planets.

But as with all things, there is always time for reprieve. And so Voph stood on the balcony of the small living quarters he'd borrowed during his stay on the planet. And so little of it had been used. The signs of activity in the kitchen were practically the only signs of life across the small space. The table undisturbed, the chairs gathering dust, were it not for the efforts of the cleaning droids. The bed, likewise, had remained untouched, inspite of Voph's nightly retreat to the room. Whatever it was he spent his nights doing, it wasn't sleeping.

Though he did not turn from his post looking over the city below, he saw her approach. Voph had summoned Scherezade for conversation, and likely a meal. He wanted to know more of this being that had been re-introduced to the galaxy. And just who exactly was helping him on his quest to stabilize the ruins of the First Order. He gestured with his right hand, opening the door before Scherezade had a chance to signal her arrival. As his hands returned to their folded position at the small of his back, Voph said, "Welcome, Miss deWinter. It pleases me to see that you have been returned to the land of the living." Only then did he turn, a grim smile on his face. "We've not been formally introduced. I am Voph Sitdrisa'yr. Leader of the Octarchy Covenant Task Force. An honor to meet you."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Abridon. One of the planets that up until recently, had been property of the First Order, and all that entailed from being under their reign. Frankly, there was little that Scherezade knew about the First Order and what they did, besides the usual rumors that everybody regularly heard of. Tight iron fist, concentration camp, micromanagement rule. But actual details? Things that were more than whispers or memes on the holonet? She'd never even thought to look into it.

Which was part of why she was surprised at the opportunity to actually go and help one of the Confederates who was apparently helping the recently freed worlds out. Sure, Cardinal had gotten involved to make sure she didn't actually have to server time for the things she'd done, and most of what she'd done had been kept off record as well, but… But she hadn't actually expected to be called in for her experience, for the things she knew how to do. Before the dying and before Madalena and before everything, she was mostly called in when cheap human shields were needed.

So yes. She'd been summoned.

Not precisely knowing what the schedule was or what to expect, she'd arrived in her new armor, and most of her weapons. Despite the skin tight appearance of the suit, she'd found multiple ways to hide blades beneath the skin tight apparel, knowing the importance of having hidden blades for the way fought. For despite her being with the Pathfinders, Scherezade was, almost first and foremost, a blade. And a damn effective one too.

Upon arrival, she offered a nod as she was greeted. Ms. deWinter. It always sounded so strange to her ears, no matter how many times she'd heard it, it always felt like it was directed at someone else and not towards her. The comment about the land of the living made her pause for a moment, and she couldn't help but wonder just how much the Mirakula before her either knew or sensed. But when he turned to her and smiled, she smiled back, despite knowing he couldn't see it.

"Do I call you Voph orVicelord Sitdrisa'yr?" she asked, her pronunciation on key as with how he had pronounced it, "or something else?" Taking another step, she did her best to keep her voice calm, to not let it show was she actually nervous about it; it was the first mission she was on as herself – and with all that entailed.

[member="Voph"]

 

[Kyyrk]

Voph chuckled quietly at the girl's query. "Vicelord, I am not. I believe Darth Metus is the only among us to hold that honor. I, by contrast, am nobody." Voph said this so matter-of-factly that it was impossible to assume he spoke from self-pity. More an emphasis on how low his rank was in comparison. How disposable he was in the grand scheme of things. He stepped inside from the balcony, and gestured to the collection of chairs by the fireplace. Not a real fireplace, sadly, but the holoflames and simulated crackling was calming enough. The silent offer for a seat was soon followed by Voph stepping over towards the counter, and collecting a bottle of some kind. As he poured a pair of drinks, he continued elaborating. "If you must use titles, I have been granted the rank of Fleet Marshal. A formality bestowed upon me as I officially merged my personal fleet with that of the CIS. And with great effect, I would observe."

Voph stepped over to the chairs and offered [member="Scherezade deWinter"] the glass. "I hope you enjoy Dosuun swill. Only thing they have around here, it would seem." Voph took a seat, and took a cautious sip from his glass, face twisting slightly at the bitter liquid. Not one of his favorites, but it was better than nothing. "You are lucky to have friends looking out for you, Miss deWinter. I was first made aware of your...plight by an associate, Miss Lechner, well before I even thought to join the Confederacy. She never mentioned you by name, very careful to observe the utmost discretion, but...well shall we say I am far smarter than I appear." Voph grinned. "So, I want it understood that I care little, and know less, of this situation you found yourself in. How you came to be there, and how you became removed from it, are your business, not mine. If there is something you feel compelled to share, I would hear it. Otherwise, I have every faith that you will live up to the expectations I have placed upon you."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade looked at the glass for a moment, but then shook her head. Liquor was… A sensitive subject. Before she had removed herself from existence, she'd drunk herself night and day attempting to reach the brink of death that had never come. Since returning, she had not had as much as a single drop. Now did not seem like good timing to take that first drop and see if she could handle it or not.

As the Fleet Marshal continued to speak though, Scherezade froze in her place. Friends that were looking out for her? What friends did she have when – wait. Lechner? Not a Mr., but a Miss. So Alwine, who was Gerwald's sister. What did she have to do with it? Scherezade did not know about the events that had occurred after the key had been sent to Alwine and Varick; no one had told her, and in the mess of attempting to keep on pretending to be Madalena, she hadn't even thought about it. And apparently Alwine knew… More than Scherezade thought she did.

"Understood," she said quietly, "I'm not here to share or discuss any of that. I'm here for the mission and for that purpose alone." Sighing, she shook her head before straightening up again. Her mess had become more widespread than she'd feared. "How do we go about it?"

[member="Voph"]

 

[Kyyrk]

Voph shrugged, setting his glass aside. "That's your problem." Voph looked at the girl as he leaned back in his chair, bringing his left leg up to rest his ankle on his right knee. His fingers met under his chin as his attention returned to the girl before him. Of course, he wouldn't just leave things at that. Even if he had no time to deal with such matters. "This planet, along with many others, are left floundering without the guidance of the First Order. Their military is...lacking. I would help train their soldiers myself, but I am otherwise occupied with trade negotiations, re-establishing planetary government, so on and so on."

Voph arched a brow as he looked at the girl. "I've seen your file. And in spite of your....shall we say, liberal use of pranks as an offensive method, you do seem to have a knack for what you do." Voph picked up a datapad that had been sitting on the table beside him. "Mission success. Mission success." He began listing off, as he glanced up at [member="Scherezade deWinter"] already knowing full well what he was reading. "Mission success. So on and so on. And, you've earned the ire of the Jedi. To have them hunt you down by name speaks volumes of your capability."

Voph set the datapad down, still open on Scherezade's file. "And, possession or not, attacking the Vicelord takes balls. That's why I picked you to step in, and help train a new army. Among....other things, if necessary. With luck, nothing will come of it. But I have the feeling you and I both know that luck is hardly an agent in our favor."

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

Scherezade bit her tongue as the word pranks was used to describe her methods. They were not pranks. Pranks were usually harmless things that people did to each other. The Blood Hound in the room was far from harmless, and much experienced in working with unconventional methods that more often than not were deliberately deadly to the enemy. And yet, she took the praise for what it was. Mission success after mission success. It was rare that anyone within the Confederacy bothered to even acknowledge it in any way, and she wasn't about to start an argument about it now.

"Not the Jedi," she paused the conversation to correct him though, "a Jedi. The Silvers quite enjoy my company and I'm a regular visitor on Kashyyyk. The incident you speak of was with an individual Jedi that used to be part of the Alliance." And there were things not written on that file, because she hadn't reported it. Perhaps she should have; let it be known that prior to her sort of killing herself, she had cut that Jedi's heart out of his chest. The heart was in a jar on a shelf in her ship – still beating. "Though if you ask me," she smirked, "I believe that's a bigger achievement, considering I'm all Sith."

"This army," she asked then, once they were once more on the matter for which she had come, "what can you tell me about them? Their experience? Their expectations? Are they former First Order soldiers, or local rabble hoping to make a difference?"

[member="Voph"]

 

[Kyyrk]

Voph regarded the woman silently for a moment. "Both. There are some that did not succumb to the indoctrination of the First Order, even when among their ranks. And there are still fierce pockets of resistance. Werewolves, they call themselves. People that would see the galaxy burn before giving a single meter of ground. You can only burn so many homes, and slaughter so many innocent families, before they turn against you."

Voph leaned back in his chair, taking a sip from his drink. "These soldiers simply seek to make their homes safe. But they're used to mighty empires with endless resources. Not a planet on the brink of collapse. They need to learn to adapt to having to rely on but their own wits." Voph stood, and walked over to the small kitchen area, and set his cup down on the counter. "Fortunately for you, time is more or less on our side. They do not have an army ready to destroy them at the slightest failure. Not yet." Voph paused as he glanced back at Scherezade. "Of course...that may change, depending on the efforts of certain...rogue elements. But for now, best to focus on the present."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]

 

[Scherezade deWinter]

At the mention of the word werewolves, Scherezade blinked. Of course there would be people calling themselves that at the place to which she'd been summoned. Of course. It seemed life wanted to laugh at her again. Ever since the whole thing with [member="Gerwald Lechner"] had begun, it seemed she could not get away. Werewolf, wolf-monsters, loth-wolves. There was no getting away. Wherever she turned, there was something that somehow connected to wolves that she had to deal with. It was infuriating, especially when she was actively taking strides to get away from it.

But beyond the blink, there would be nothing on her facial features that would give those quick thoughts away. Even when drunk, Scherezade had always dealt with things professionally. She would do so now as well.

"I can do it," she said with a confident nod, only then realizing that perhaps her usual physical cues might be lost on someone who had no eyes. But while she had much information about the Mirakula inside the memories that had been burned into her mind before she left the pebble, she didn't actually have hands on experience.

"Discipline, work out regiments, locating those fit for leadership, responsibility delegation…" she mulled over the short version of the list of what was to be done, "the resistance can be… Convinced. We've done this with several worlds already that were once not part of the Confederacy."

But now they were. Scherezade herself didn't really care about which planets were or were not Confederate space, but there were people who actually had feelings on those matters. "Do you know if there are any plans to bring this planet into the CIS?" she asked, "if these people fear losing their freedom once more, it should be addressed in one way or another."

[member="Voph"]

 

[Kyyrk]

Voph arched an eyebrow at the girl's gesture. An existing history with these werewolves, perhaps? Voph wasn't sure exactly what that gesture was to mean. But, he knew that his mention of the furred beasts of legend had evoked a response from her. He didn't ask, though. Just stood there with his brow arched in a clear, visible, and unasked question. Instead, he stepped back towards his chair. "Abridon is far removed from our borders. If they do join, it will be some time coming."

Voph shrugged as he sank back into the chair. "As for the implications of joining the Confederacy, I would make poor council." Voph watched the girl quietly for a moment, then began to speak frankly. And he could not describe it, but a strange feeling washed over him. Honesty, perhaps? This was, after all, the first time he'd begun telling someone the truth about himself. Even if some important details were....omitted.

"I, for all my talk and romance, have never been a politician. A negotiator. I am a soldier. Unto such was I born, and from which I shall die. I lead people, not for a desire to elevate myself, but because they need leadership. They need someone to see them through the hard times. What course of action would the Confederacy need to take on Abridon?" Voph shrugged again. "Your guess is as good as mine. All I can do is teach them to defend themselves, and pray that they are able to mind their own matters."

[member="Scherezade deWinter"]