Verse had stopped only to change into something nicer before flying to the bar Cyrian had told her to meet him at. She figured a couple drinks wouldn't hurt, especially considering the victory they had achieved earlier.
She walked into the bar wearing a blue pencil dress that she had bought on her way here. Her silver hair was still braided into a bun military-style. She was glad she hadn't overdressed; others seemed to be dressed in a similar style. Verse slid into an empty seat at the bar and ordered a cocktail while she waited for Cyrian to arrive.
The bar on the station was actually quite nicer than most of those that one would find at similar transit and defense hubs. The fact that they had one at all was interesting as it got passed many of the ration laws based on the status of people that ventured there. They were mostly Imperial Military connected. Many officers, but some non commissioned officers and general troopers were allowed to participate.
That was one of the perks of being a trooper with a history as long as he had been. You learned where they nice spots were and the ones that were a bit loose when it came to the social rules. And for the circumstance that he was walking in to that was likely essential.
Cyrian was meeting a full fledged Sith. Not just some acolyte but a real Champion. That was a scary thought in many ways, but there had been many more situations that were more intimidating.
He wore an off duty uniform that did not stand out as striking. It did not denote his rank, but it certainly made him easy to recognize as Trooper off the line. Blending in was not something Troopers were particularly good at, but here Cyrian did not stand out at all.
He took in the scene and saw the lady at the bar. For a moment he thought about what he was doing. Considering what she wore and her stunning image this could get far more dangerous. But turning back now could lead to a demotion or worse. And in that way he wondered what the worst was that could happen.
"I'm not used to superiors blending in so well, yet standing out all at the same time." Cyrian spoke in complement to her dress and manner.
Verse could detect Cyrian's hesitation as he walked up to her. "For tonight, I'm not your superior," she said. From him, it was hard to tell if it was a compliment or not. It didn't matter.
Her expression was calmly blank, but she let the corner of her mouth tilt upwards. She had just finished her cocktail; the empty glass taken away by the bartender, who turned to Cyrian expectantly. While she waited for Cyrian to order, she actually took a second to look at him.
His hair and eyes were dark, and his muscles were tensed, as if he was expecting her to laugh in his face and walk away. She did neither.
This was quite a first for Cyrian. He had experienced a lot in his life but nothing quite that amounted to this moment. He opted to look at it from a more practical perspective. He was not on duty, and she was not a part of his units chain of command.
By all accounts she was just a silver haired woman in a cantina with a blue dress that he had agreed to meet with.
"Rilzyth on ice." Cyrian told the bar tender when he came by. A rough and old fashion sort of drink that not many chose to drink unless there was nothing to mix it with.
He looked back to the girl in the blue dress. "I suppose not, since I'm not particularly used to superiors taking my suggestions." Cyrian noted that being there was technically his idea.
The drink was given to him and he took a sip of the harsh burning orange colored unmixed drink. It tasted as good as it always did and he had little reaction to it. "So what brings an all powerful creature such as yourself to spend time among the lowly laborers of the Empire? I thought that you all had palaces and planets to rule?"
Cyrian opted to dive straight in. If she was not interested in rigid trooper he'd happily take his limited off duty time to be more a human.
Verse held her glass, swirling the liquid in the bottom. She did not order another drink. When Cyrian spoke she found herself internally amused. His words sounded almost mocking. "Just delegated all my important duties to the lowly laborers of the Empire," she said, the beginnings of a teasing smile creeping across her features. "What about you? Why so interested in people who wield a weapon you can't see?"
She had answered his question without really answering it, waiting to see how he would react.
Her response prompted a chuckle from Cyrian. He was not expecting that approach. He had hardly come across a Sith that would give him the time of day so he was not very certain what her station was. He had always been told that their awesome power was not to be questioned, and he was a dutiful trooper. But here he was now just a man who was a alone and unafraid in a bar with lady in a blue dress.
"That may be a bad call." Cyrian responded. "We have a bad habit of letting Empires fall apart when we aren't supervised." Cyrian was not very studious, but he knew basics of the thousands of years of governments rising and falling when the Sith weren't around.
"I can't help but be curious. You call it a weapon, but I've never known a weapon I couldn't see and touch." Cyrian responded. "And I've never seen someone like you who wields it that well and then speaks to others like they're..." Cyrian considered his wording. "people."
Verse let herself smile as he carried on the joke, but there was a note of truth to his voice. "Same goes for the Sith," she said. Just because some could wield the Force most automatically expected them to be on top, incapable of mistakes. Which Verse knew personally to be a lie.
What Cyrian said next made sense. It would be quite hard to believe or trust anything you can't see. It had been her biggest struggle when first learning the ways of the Force. She tilted her head at his last words. "The Empire would be nothing without everyone else. I would not have lasted long by myself it had been just me against those rebels," she said truthfully. She even knew some Force-less servants of the Empire that were higher ranked than her. Not that she liked them much, but still.
"If you weren't as capable as you were I doubt that you'd be out there fighting rebels alone." Cyrian replied. "But had you not been born with such ability, we'd have still been able to make a great Assault Trooper out of you. You have a knack for the fight. I can tell."
Cyrian shrugged at her comments on the lower beings of the Empire. "The Empire is a lot of people for a purpose. It does get a bit tedious though thinking about what it takes to keep it all together. I guess I don't blame you for wanting to take a break from all of that upper level trouble."
Cyrian then looked at her. "So what does the life of a Sith entail when they aren't hunting rebels and ruling a galaxy?" Cyrian was not sure how to ask personal questions to a girl that could cut him down with just her thoughts. But that was the gray area he was most curious about.
For likely the first time in her life, Verse felt warmth when Cyrian praised her. Not even her superiors had given her such glowing compliments. A nervous smile twitched at the corner of her mouth but it was quickly stamped down by the control she exerted over her emotions.
"It's quite boring, actually," she replied when she had gathered herself. "We are left to entertain ourselves," she continued.
The smile on the Sith helped ease Cyrians mind. It seemed that he was not immediately to be taken to be executed which was a good thing. He recalled in training that such threats were common should one step out of their place, and he'd also seen it acted on. This however gave him new hope that that was more a battlefield necessity, and that the Empire was actually the guiding force the galaxy needed, and this Sith was just a hand in that.
"I can't imagine being bored at the top of the pyramid." Cyrian noted looking across the bar. "Waiting for orders gets boring, but being able to go anywhere and do anything. A whole galaxy to see? I'd find a way to entertain myself I think."
Cyrian then got a hold of himself and realized that could be insulting. "Not that there's anything wrong with how you choose to spend your time. I'm sure it gets stressful giving orders all day too."
Verse tilted her head at Cyrian when he replied. "You would be surprised," she said, before he continued, seemingly correcting himself. She considered him once more. "Do you think all I do is give orders and 'be powerful'?" she asked. It was a genuine question; he kept repeating the fact that she was important, in almost a sarcastic, mocking manner. Maybe it meant nothing, but her instincts were rarely wrong.
That was an interesting question to Cyrian, so he thought that perhaps it would be a valuable moment for them both to be given a degree of transparency as it pertained to their background. He was getting the impression that their worlds were so separate that perhaps they each knew very little about the other and without any illumination on that they could get dangerously close to offending one another.
"As a rule, yes." Cyrian answered. "I come from somewhat low stock on the Imperial pecking order, Champion." Cyrian admitted. "The army was one of the few ways to actually find purpose, adventure, and meaning beyond work in a foundry. But every Imperial knows who's in charge, and they all know not to question it." Cyrian continued, holding his glass in his right hand. "The Assault Corps made that all the more clear. The Sith are the walking chosen on the galaxy to exact the will of the Empress and lead the Empire to greater victory. When they say jump you jump, when they say shoot you shoot, and when they say die... you do it with honor and distinction no matter the reason."
That was who Cyrian was. That was the stock he came from. "So as a matter of fact, I know it's what you do. And it's the way it should be for the good of the Empire. Because no matter what it is you choose to do, small or large in the grand scheme, you will do it with the grace of a ruler, and the power of a Sith."
Cyrian smirked and took a drink. In a way he was giving a round about compliment of respect, by drawing a line in their station, but expressing great admiration. "It's who we were born to be that define what we can live up to be. And I've never minded living a life to follow people that can have my back when rebels are firing like fools."
Verse was silent for a while after Cyrian stopped speaking. The kind of faith he was talking about was astounding, and Verse found herself a little reassured that he felt that way. That had to mean others did as well. "Your faith in the Empire is reassuring," she replied honestly. Although there was quite a bit of blind faith, it was better than nothing. Sometimes the most zealous Imperials who believed in the Empire so whole-heartedly they became quite uncontrollable and cruel.
"I was just doing my job. It would have looked bad on my report if I came back with a fraction of the men I left with," she continued, half-joking.
"The only thing I've seen matter on most reports was mission accomplished or mission failed. Typically higher has never asked about how many people came back." Cyrian replied matter-of-factly. There was no real accountability for losses, as the mission came first. The Troopers were well trained in handling situations, so they didn't scoff at the idea of danger. And their willingness to fight as they did certainly gave them a reputation of fierce fighters, at least for the Assault Corps.
Cyrian took a drink, and smiled back at the Sith. "But here's to getting more than a fraction back." He held his cup up to the Sith, celebrating their victory.
Verse knew what he was saying was true. To most powerful Sith, the Imperial soldiers were expendable. There were always more people that could be called on to fight and die. She raised her own mostly empty glass to Cyrian's. "To the Empire," she replied, beforing downing the last of her drink.