Ask Sunrises and Daybreaks

[Iymril]

Thule l Death Enabled​

The Daybreak Cafe was one of the few places outside of the Sith Quarter and the Dark Lord’s palace that the sun was visible on Thule. The only reason for that was because the Cafe was built in a flotilla that housed a massive garden that had been constructed in honor of Arcanos. Once known was Azarishar Peak it had been renamed once the man was reborn as Arcanos. It was now known as Arcanithar Peak and a massive statue of marble had been built in honor of the living god.

The Daybreak Cafe had been built in the shadow of that mighty statue. Iymril found that ironic, given how now all Sith lived in the shadow of the Sith Lord. And if rumors were to be believed, that included Tempest herself.

But that wasn’t what had brought Iym here. No. They had made this reservation months ago, simply to enjoy one of the best brunches on the planet. One that boasted a beautiful view of the skyline without the ever present smog of industry. The fact that their reservations had been expanded to include another being didn’t bother them. In fact they were looking forward to meeting this particular peer.

Vander, a Sith that had unexpectedly worked with their slave Zira. (@Sreeya) He was one of the few beings that she had decided was worth them knowing about. So, the invitation had been extended to him to join them for a pleasant meal.

Iymril had come dressed in one of their newest sundresses, a pair of white open toed flats, a white wide brimmed ladies lounge hat, a matching white leather purse, and an assortment of silver jewelry. Of note was a pendant and matching set of stud earrings made from bled kyber. Their hair had been braided into a single long tail that was draped over their shoulder. Opulence and Grace were synonymous with them.

Iymril couldn’t help but take in the sight before them as they were brought to their outdoor table. As they took their seat, the afternoon hymnals singing praises to the glory of the Sith echoed up and reached the Sephi’s sensitive ears. This is why they lived on Thule.

Utter perfection.

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

Vander looked out and blinked at the statue of Arcanos. Sith Lords were... a strange lot. He knew that he shouldn't have expected them all to be one-dimensional, but it was still a bit hard to believe that this stone-carven person was also the same person who had been running around as a Zeltron woman on Umbara. All things said and done, he was glad he had survived that run in. It had been - at times - a little close for comfort.

He'd been invited to a brunch with another Sith whose acquaintance he made through Zira. It left him with a... taste in his mouth at the relationship between the two. His jaw tightened and he reeled in the... twitchy thoughts.

Everything about this meeting unsettled him. Was it proportionate to the event itself? Probably not, but Vander thought it was. It was a rarity that that shield around himself ever dropped, and he had yet to find a Sith who it dropped around. Sith were by their nature deviant serpents.

His hood was thrown back as he waited, having arrived quite in advance to spot out his target. He watched the other Sith arrive and take a seat, settling in for a nice comfortable brunch. Vander waited several minutes longer, studying acutely each of the people who came and went from this place. Even being so overtly a Sith-supporting planet, most people here were not Sith, and picking out other killers from a crowd was something Vander had become very good at.

When he was satisfied there was no one else there, he finally made his way down, practically just appearing out of nowhere to slide into the seat across from the other Sith.

You must be Iymril, he said.

@Apollyon

 

[Iymril]

Sephi hearing was incredibly sensitive, it picked up on details that most other species couldn’t fathom. That being said, Iymril didn’t hear Vander’s approach until he had neared the table. Instead, they had been listening to the singing of the people below and reading their menu.

Their ears twitched slightly when Vander slid into his seat opposite of them. When he spoke, addressing them, Iym would gently lay down their menu and remove their wide brimmed hat. Ruby eyes that betrayed nothing examined the man. They drank in everything from his face to his outfit to the way he sat in the chair.

“And you must be Corax.” They replied calmly. “Zira told me of your exploits together.” They told him. “You made quite the impression.” Iym complimented. “I trust she was an adequate stand in for me?” Iym asked.

Iymril was aware of the stigma behind owning a pleasure slave. They knew some Sith would believe them a degenerate for owning her. Iymril personally, didn’t care about what they thought. Zira was an important part of their power base, she was an already trained agent, ready to enact their will. That alone made her an invaluable resource.

“I’ve taken the liberty of ordering us mojitos.” Iymril said after a moment. “The avocado toast and the roasted potatoes with mixed greens are delicious here.” They suggested. “Or so I’ve heard.”

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

Vander gave a silent nod at the speculation from the other Sith.

She did very well, he agreed, never one to say more than he needed. He was a strong believer in keeping his cards close to his chest, and thought back to the lessons he had learned from his master: where words abound, foolishness is close to follow. He was still... probing this situation. The dynamic between himself and the other Sith. The Sith and Zira.

The entirety of what he know about Iymril was that he owned a pleasure slave, and that was something found distasteful in a seat of his soul that was set in concrete. It wasn't a glowing endorsement, but Vander wasn't one to react rashly when he could avoid it.

I looked into that thing you sent me, he said, opting - as was his wont - for for sticking to the task at hand and revealing as little of himself as he could. His statement referred to an auction being held on Omega that Iymril had pointed him toward in the coming weeks... a sort of joint operation between the two with a common goal. Very Sith. Vander had inherited many of his Master's former contacts since entering into the wider galaxy, and it had proven quite useful for digging up more data on their target.

Even as he sat there, he couldn't help but think that he was being weighed by the other Sith. It was... to be expected.

The mojitos were delivered, and Vander took his glass in hand, swirling the liquid slightly as he continued to speak.

I got the time and place. Security will be tight, he warned.

 

[Iymril]

“Good.” Iymril replied simply. “I trust she didn’t suffer any disrespect that I should be aware of?” They asked evenly as they glanced down at the menu to continue reading.

Zira did well in representing them at these sorts of social gatherings. Iymril usually attended galas and balls themself, often allowing Zira to attend as well. However, lately they hadn’t been able to make these sort of soirées. And so, Zira was sent to attend in their stead. Unfortunately, this meant that she was often openly mocked or disrespected by Iymril’s peers. Something they intended to begin rectifying.

Pleasure slave or not, Zira represented them. For that simple fact alone, she’d be given respect.

When Corax began to speak of business, Iymril felt a little disappointed; not that it showed on their stoney features but their fluted ears did dip slightly. The younger Sith was handsome, tone, athletic. A bit broody, but what Sith wasn’t from time to time? Inwardly, Iymril sighed at the pleasantries being cut short so they could attend to business matters.

Outwardly however, Iym slightly cocked an eyebrow and glanced up at Corax. “Well that was certainly fast.” They commented as the mojitos arrived at the table. If they were talking about Corax’s investigative prowess or the speed the drinks arrived, the other Sith would never know.

Iymril took a dainty sip of their beverage as Corax gently swirled his in his hand. If Iymril was pleased to hear about the information gathered, it didn’t show. Instead, their left ear simply twitched as they listened and enjoyed their drink.

“Well,” They began after placing the glass on the table before them. “This is an auction catering to elites and socialites, I’d assume exclusivity and security are synonymous.” They pointed out. “Do we know who’s sponsoring the event?” Iymril asked more pointedly.

The auction had many Sith “collector’s items” which usually translated into artifacts and forgotten lore. Both of which interested Iymril. Neither of which they intended to pay in order to get back to the Order. No, Iymril would prefer to simply take what was theirs by right.

However, knowing which, likely criminal, organization they both were about to slight was a wise move. If it was a member of the Five Syndicates, caution would be advisable, if not? Well, Iymril did have a few more experimental powers they’d been itching to try. And if that was the case, what was security but test subjects?

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

Vander considered a moment the answer to the other Sith's question. He was sure there was more layered into that question than was on the surface, but Vander had never been much for those types of games.

Certainly none at my hands, he said. I leave it to her to give you report on anything else, he said. The interaction with Acotwit, Red Bull, and the Hag... well, those were up to her to speak about. He wasn't going to get himself involved in her business. There was no version of that that was going to work out well for him.

Vander assumed the Sith's comment was regarding Vander moving right along to business, but that was Vander all over. Added to the fact that his general disdain for this Sith was still... fairly high. The fact the Limmerick at least seemed to care if others treated her well was... something.

Vander just shrugged, offering no further comment or explanation about his behavior.

Crimson Dawn, he said, the words hanging in the air for a moment after he said them. The organizations had declined in recent years, but they were still no small threat. Omega's remaining entities were loosely affiliated, but they still had a whole lot of guns on station.

I have no intention of paying, he said bluntly. He didn't have the money to pay the exorbitant amounts that CD would be asking anyway. Someone could say that it was very "Sith" to refuse to pay, but for Vander it was just practical.

 

[Iymril]

Iymril could read between the lines well enough. Corax’s answer aligned with the report Zira had given. There were inconveniences that had occurred. Some of which had been dealt with, in no small part thanks to this man.

Iymril had been preparing to order their food. An order of a sunrise salad, lightly tossed, with vegetarian substitutions for meat. They were excited for the meal. They had been looking forward to it. That was until Corvax uttered those two words. Crimson Dawn.

All thoughts of enjoying their lightly tossed salad died with those words. This meant there was no room for error. They couldn’t be caught on security footage. They’d have to eliminate anyone and anything that got in their way. That was if they got caught.

Iymril’s back straightened in their seat, they leaned forward slightly and gripped the edges of their arm rests. The sound of the rings they wore grating against the metal rest squeaked out as their demeanor shifted. This required their full attention, and it received just that.

“We are Sith, those artifacts are ours by right.” They replied cooly. “We are of one mind on this.” Iymril stated. “What do you suggest for our entry point?” They asked, figuring Corax had more experience with breaking and entering plus armed robbery than them. “Also, to blend in…you can’t wear, that.” They pointed out and gestured to their robe-suit. “Send me your sizes and I’ll have something perfect for you the next time you see me.”

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

”Agreed,” Vander said. It was almost a small miracle that they agreed on anything, but hey, take the wins where you could. Vander could certainly use some artifacts for himself if he were ever going to make his way up the ladder of the Sith and - more importantly - the galaxy.

“While the auction house is defended, it’s not impenetrable,” he said. “There’s an upstairs that could be infiltrated independently and let us either recon or make distractions ahead of time,” he said.

“I don’t really fancy having my face caught on camera even posing as a patron,” he said. And it was true. He didn’t want himself associated with any of this and odds were he’d even wear a mask or helmet.

The statement about his size left him… perplexed. He had no idea what his measurements were… he wore normal people clothing.

“Large,” he finally said after another moment not clear if it was a joke or not.

 

[Iymril]

Iymril gave a slow, polite nod when Corax simply agreed with them. The man seemed the strictly business type. Extremely secretive, uptight, or both. Regardless, so long as they obtained texts, scripts, or holocrons containing ancient or forbidden knowledge Iymril would be satisfied.

Iymril listened as Corax explained their plan regarding the upper levels and reconnaissance. Their grip on the durasteel chair relaxed slightly, their fingers began to thrum lightly on the arm rest as they considered what the man had said.

However when Corax mentioned not wanting his face on camera, Iymril’s ears twitched with amusement. None of those patrons wanted their faces on camera. Any with sense would be wearing a mask of some sort, Iymril would as well.

“You’ll find many beings will share that sentiment.” They replied casually. “Few patrons that are wealthy enough to attend these sort of events want to be publicly associated with organizations like the Crimson Dawn, masks are usually commonplace.” Iym pointed out. “Dressing to match the minimal standard is our best bet at avoiding suspicion and detection.” They continued to accent Corax’s need for discretion.

However when the other Sith said their measurements were large, Iymril was caught off guard. They blinked twice in rapid succession as they computed what they just heard. “Larg-?” They began questioningly, genuine confusion seeping into their voice for a moment. “No, your measurements. Inseam, waist size, chest measureme-” Iymril paused again as they spoke. “You have no idea what any of this means do you?” They asked in disbelief.

“It doesn’t matter, we’ll meet again and I’ll take them for you.” Iymril told Corax, their ears pinning back slightly. “And I’ll sew you a tailored outfit that will feel like a second skin.” They offered before shifting back to the mission.

“Infiltration beforehand is a risk but could ensure success.” They mused aloud. “Fortune favors the bold. I’m in.”

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

Vander was getting the impression there was no way he was getting out of wearing some ridiculously impractical clothing... again. Why did the galaxy decide that people's "fancy" clothes had to be so ridiculous?

He actually had to stifle a smirk though at how caught off guard the other Sith was by the statement that he wore "large."

Oh, no, I know what they are, I just have no idea what mine are, he said. Well... he knew in theory what they were. They were tailor's measurements. Unfortunately, he didn't like to be touched by people to the point of being nearly neurotic about it and stretching out his arms so he could be shanked in the side have his measurements taken was unappealing to him.

I'll acquire an appropriate outfit, he said begrudgingly. It might be the same one that he had worn at the last Sith party, but that was fine.

That was when he realized what he had just heard. Had Limmerick just volunteered to sew him a suit?

That's a... random and unusual skill, he thought to himself.

You sew? he asked. It was a momentary lapse from their business and one of the first things Vander had said that wasn't... just about business.

Without forward recon we'll be going in blind, he agreed. What's your specialty? he asked, knowing that what the other Sith did was going to likely shape how they went about this job.

 

[Iymril]

​

Iymril’s ears dipped at Corvax’s response. This was beginning to become an exercise in patience and Iym was not a patient person. Despite this, they remained perfectly poise and didn’t allow a mild annoyance spoil their brunch.

“Good, I’d rather us not show up in drab black robes with heavily distorted vocabulators that wheeze when we breathe.” They replied teasingly. “I’m sure you’ll look absolutely handsome.” Iym said with a small nod before they sipped their mojito.

Corvax seemed surprised by the revelation that they sewed. A glint of pleasure shone in Iymril’s eyes as they regarded the man. They placed their glass back on the table, propped an arm up on their elbow, and palmed their chin.

“Of course.” They replied smoothly. “We all have hobbies don’t we?” They asked. “I sew, tailor, and sketch.” Iymril told Corvax. “In fact, I designed my dress from paper and charcoal to fabric and needle, do you like it?”

Iymril’s ears perked slightly at their own question. They were shamelessly fishing for compliments from the other Sith. However, when Corvax asked for their specialty Iymril cocked an eyebrow. With their other hand they lightly touched a finger to their mojito glass. It froze almost immediately.

“The Force itself.” They replied breezily. “Consider me your artillery or whatever it’s called.” Iym continued as their finger left their deeply chilled drink. “And you?”

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

Ah yes, social banter was Vander's specialty. Words that would never come out of anyone's mouth, although he knew at least how to be polite in most given situations. The fact was that if Limmerick's assertion about the dress was true, Vander had to admit he was impressed.

Honestly, I have to admit I'm very impressed, he said. I never would have guessed you made it all yourself, he said. That was a skill that Vander most certainly didn't have. As it turned out, there were so many skills Vander didn't have.

Well, you know what they say about the Force, he said. Casters were capable of the greatest devastation, particularly at the upper ends of the capabilities of a Force-user. They could devastate or change the face of a battlefield.

I sneak and I stab things, he said. It was a reductive way to describe what he did, but he had no shame in it. He liked to underpromise and overdeliver. The other Sith seemed like the kind to look down on that, but that was what it was.

His eyes fell to the now-frozen drink, and he couldn't quite stifle a sassy comment.

Gonna make it a little hard to drink, he said, once again somewhere between deadpan reality and a joke. Between this and "large" it appeared Vander may have had a sense of humor, just one that was as dry as a saltine cracker.

Regardless, between sneaking, stabbing, and flinging ice we should be well equipped for whatever situation comes up, he said. Plus it seemed that Limmerick was well versed in all the "high society" things that Vander disliked.

We can meet on Omega a few days early for recon, then? he said.

 

[Iymril]

​

The tips of Iymril’s ears heated up and pinkened slightly. The compliments towards their craftsmanship made their heart flutter. They had always been a sucker for flattery, nothing had changed that.

“Thank you.” They replied with a gracious nod. “It has pockets.” Iym told Corax without realizing that probably didn’t mean much to the other Sith.

As the conversation continued, Corax described what he did in an extremely simple manner. Iymril didn’t judge him for how he used the Force or his skillset. They each had a purpose, they each had talents that compensated for another. Iymril had focused entirely on their command over the dark side, Corax had diversified. In theory, it would make them a potent pair.

“Stealth and shanking meets silver tongued sorcery.” Iymril mused aloud. “I believe I will enjoy this task.” They stated finally.

When Corax glanced to Iymril’s drink and commented on it being hard to drink, the Sephi’s ears twitched with amusement. They reached over and touched the glass once more and steadily heated it up until the ice melted into a slush.

“I can do the same for you, if you desire it.” They offered casually.

After a brief recap, Corax suddenly made it clear that he’d be leaving. Disappointing but he was his own Sith.

“You go on then, I’ll cover the tab.” Iymril replied. “It was an absolute pleasure meeting you Corax.” They continued. “And I look forward to seeing you in a few days.”

With that Iymril sipped their drink and focused back on the menu. Corax might not intend on staying for brunch, but they did.

 

[Vander]

Vander arrived on Omega just in advance of the auction, having done more planning and acquisition of resources.

He'd descended the ramp of his ship and waited outside the auction house. The recon portion was still in advance of the auction, and they would infiltrate to poke around as planned. If they got lucky, maybe an opportunity would even present itself to make out with some of the artifacts tonight.

His fancy clothes he had purchased and worn at the party on Korriban were the same ones he had brought to Omega, though today they were left on his ship. He wore a more typical set of equipment today, lightsaber concealed at his back as it always was, and today the pouches in his belt had a couple of extra surprises.

When he was sure that no one was looking, he produced one of these when Iymril approached.

Thermal detonators. Four of them. Remote detonated, 10 meter radius. Our back up plan in case things go sideways on us, he said.

Wipe out any evidence we were there, he said, tossing the detonator in his hand before tossing it over to the other Sith. It was probably a little bit reckless, but he was confident the other Sith would be able to catch it.

We can plant them while we're in there looking around tonight, he said. I tinker, you tailor, if you can be a soldier, I'll be the spy, he said, another deadpan statement. The tinkering he referred to was that he had custom packed most of this ordnance himself in the last few days, creating them so they would do precisely what he wanted.

We can get in through the upper windows, plant two and two: upstairs and down, he said. Had it been intended to turn into a bombing? Maybe not, but it was much, much. harder to investigate a collapsed building with a giant hole at its center.

In fact, talking about bombs seemed to be some of the most discussion Vander had demonstrated on a topic.

 

[Iymril]

​

Iymril glided down the ramp of their ship, they’d come dressed in an outfit that was a little pedestrian for their tastes. But Corax had instructed that they shouldn’t draw attention and so they trusted in his judgements. When they spotted the little human, there was a brief flare of irritation. He’d snubbed them at the gala to cozy up with Zira, it was an insult to them.

However, Iymril didn’t dwell on it for now. They couldn’t afford to let their personal slights dictate how effective they were. There was a lot on the line, namely untold amounts of valuable artifacts to steal. That thought quelled their grievances and their ears perked slightly.

“Coraxxxx.” They whispered as a greeting, intentionally extending the last letter of the man’s name. Despite the calm toneless cadence that Iym spoke in, there was a hint of flirtatiousness. “Looking as handsome as ever I see.” They continued with a dip of their head.

However, then he looked around and tossed a round metallic object towards them. Iymril froze the orb in the air for a moment before gently bringing it down and into their hand. The rolled it over to get a better look and then saw the trigger switch. A thermal detonator?

“Are you insane?” They half hissed. “This thing could have atomized us both!” Iymril reached up and pinched the bridge of their nose, closing their eyes briefly. They took a calming breath and then reopened their eyes. “Apologies, continue.”

Iymril listened carefully to Corax’s description of the detonators. It made them significantly less comfortable to know he’d made them at home but Iymril didn’t say anything about that. But the dry joke did get an amused ear flick and a tiny lip upturn from Iymril.

The Sephi did like how the man thought though. By using explosives there would be mass chaos. Patrons would be petrified and looking to flee a crumbling building. That would give them plenty of time to escape as shooting into the crowd was usually considered too high of a risk to be worth doing.

It was the perfect cover.

“Well sneak and stab, which position would you like me in?” They asked. “Top or bottom?” Their ears twitched with amusement as they spoke. “I’m comfortable with either.”

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

Good catch, Vander said, pointing to the other Sith, actually impressed it had been caught with the Force.

Yes, but it didn't, he said. It had been risky, but he was quite confident in his work. He didn't do shoddy craftsmanship, and they would be spectacular when they went off.

Wow, yes, that was a provocative way of putting that, and Vander paused a moment.

No, no, no, he waved a finger slightly. But, he added a moment later because the question was a real question needing answering.

To answer the question you actually asked... he said, pausing for a moment and frowning to think. ...probably top. I'll have you go in through the window and see if I can find another route inside on the lower level. If not, I'll have to double time through the upper window and downstairs, he said with a shrug. By his estimation, he was the better person to do the latter as well given he was probably a lot more experienced with climbing and sneaking.

He took another quick glance around and handed the second detonator across to the other Sith. Tuck them away where no one'll see, he said quietly, clearing his throat slightly and knowing that this - like a lightsaber - was something hard to explain away if it was seen in public.

Let's move, he said, flicking his head on and flipping his hood up. The meeting point wasn't far from the auction house, and within a few moments, they'd rounded the corner.

The building itself was three stories with a balcony on both of the upper floors one of which was quite close to a fire escape of the building next door. The second story was high enough that a Force-assisted jump would be difficult for people at their level, which was why Vander had scouted the entry point require a small climb. Vander's chin flicked up to the fire escape to indicate that was going to be Limmerick's entry point.

Auction'll be held in the center of the building, so try to pack both of them on the same side so we don't get blown up if we are on the opposite side of the building, he advised. Let me know which side you plant on and I'll try to do the same, he said, wondering to himself if Limmerick actually knew which side was "north, south, east, and west" on Omega. He pondered reviewing it but hoped that the Sephi would ask if they didn't know... hopefully.

I'll make sure no one sees you and then look for another entry point lower down. If I end up having to hop through the same window... I'd appreciate you not stabbing me, he said, slapping Limmerick on the back to indicate they should get going.

Now's your chance, go! he said quietly, keeping watch on ground level until the Sephi had made it onto the upper balcony and the - hopefully - open doorway before breaking his watch.

 

[Iymril]

​

Iymril’s ears dipped slightly as they listened to Corax’s plan. They would extend their hand towards him silently.

“Riiiiiight.” They replied airily. “I am supposed to go up to the top floor with two remote detonated thermal detonators.” They continued. “While you, what?” They questioned rhetorically. “Go in down stairs with two potential duds. Then blow me up to create a diversion and rob the place yourself?” Iymril shook their head. “I’ll carry the detonator. I’m in the upper level, I won’t be willing to send my floor collapsing into a lower one.” They explained. “So you won’t have anything to worry about and neither will I.”

Iymril would gently motion with two of their fingers to place the detonator into their awaiting palm. Once they had it, they’d pause one more time. As calm and polite as they might be, a healthy dose of paranoia kept them alive.

“And before I forget, you and I need to discuss something rather important.” Iymril told Corax. “What do you say about grabbing dinner with me after this?” They asked. “It’ll be on me.” Just to sweeten the deal.

With that, Iymril would climb up the fire escape to the third level to plant the bombs. They opted to plant in the northern section of the building. They slowly made their way through the northern end and began to set up.

“Plant on northern wall.” Iymril would whisper into communication bead and then wait for a reply.

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

In all fairness, Vander never would have gone for that plan either, but he knew plenty of Sith who would have.

Of course... the fact that Vander had been planning to either blow up Iym or at least use the bombs as leverage was something that Vander would absolutely never admit aloud. It was nice and all that the bombs were useful for their actual objective - what he would now use them for - but it would have been awfully nice if his plan had worked out. He had to give credit to the other Sith: they were paranoid enough to stay alive in this game.

There was a hint of internal disappointment - or perhaps a bit more than a hint - that would never make it to the outside. Instead he would, of course, put on the facade of it all being ridiculous. He feared that if the truth was found out it might have dire consequences for Zira. He was more than capable of looking after himself. Why do you care so much about that? he wondered to himself before shoving the thoughts aside.

That doesn't even make sense, Vander objected, and he... actually was kind of right. The person on the bottom floor was more likely to be crushed and there was one other crucial problem with blowing Iymril up now:

If I were going to rob the place now when no one is here, I wouldn't use explosives. Besides most of the artifacts aren't even here yet anyway, he said, shaking his head before waving his hand.

Fine, whatever, I'll just plant them all myself, he said, rolling his eyes and wondering what the point was in even having someone else here to help with the recon anyway. Whether or not Vander had untoward plans had absolutely nothing to do with whether or not he would be annoyed. Classic Sith move to be honest.

Kind of defeats the purpose of having two people, he muttered quietly and grumpily.

It was ironic in the extreme that Iymril's argument effectively boiled down to "well I don't want you to blow me up, but I'll be able to blow you up." Of course if Iymril had been watching closely - and Vander was sure they were - the Sith would have already noticed that Vander's paranoia was second to none. Iymril had no reason to blow Vander up either, but this was Vander, after all. He didn't even eat or drink anything in public that he didn't open himself.

With Vander with all four detonators and the trigger he started making his way toward the building when Iym mentioned something else unexpected.

Dinner? Vander frowned, at first thinking he was being asked on a date but then realizing this sounded more like a business dinner. Then he realized he still didn't like eating out.

Counter offer: high speed racing, he said. It was an activity and a very different one than having dinner. Perhaps a whole new world for Iym, but nothing cleared the mind like zooming in a speeder at 250mph around a track.

Perhaps their sparring match of what to do after they were finished ransacking this place would continue as Vander sprung like a monkey up the side of the escape hatch, swinging smoothly onto the balcony. He may have been hot garbage at parties, but man he was in his element out here.

 

[Iymril]

​

If Vander thought pouting or being upset about having to do the hard (and potentially lethal) work on his own would sway Iymril, he was wrong. They were perfectly content staying down here and playing look out while the other Sith snuck around and planted bombs. Plus, they were a seven foot tall, purple skinned, red eyed, Sephi. It wasn’t like they were unnoticeable.

Instead, Iymril played the role of spotter, they closed their eyes and extended their senses. Through the realm of the Force they would see and feel all things in the building. They’d keep Corax apprised of movements within the building, guard positions, when things were absolutely clear for him to move. Useful things for an infiltration.

Once the bombs were planted and Corax was climbing back out the window, Iymril would withdraw their senses. They have a slow nod to Corax.

“See, that wasn’t so bad now was it?” They asked teasingly. “Plus, still have my own uses.”

When Corax suggested high-speed racing, Iymril cocked an eyebrow. “Do you mean like bumper speeders?” They asked, their monotone voice reflecting their unamusement. They would remain silent until they walked back onto the station’s busy street. “Why are you so interested in my servant?” They asked bluntly. “You walked away from a King and Lord alongside two newly minted Masters to greet her.” They pointed out. “And she seemed excited to see you.” Iymril continued.

As they spoke, their ears remained neutral, their face became stoney, unreadable. They glanced down to the other Sith, expecting a reply. Iymril didn’t understand the man’s fascination, Zira was one of many pleasure slaves within the Order. Iymril knew there were other Sith who owned harems of them and treated them like animals. At least with them, Zira lived in a home and was allowed fine clothes to wear without needing to sleep with any guests Iymril might have.

“Are you in love with her?” They asked pointedly.

@Phoenix

 

[Vander]

Vander moved through the building to see the explosives with surprising speed, but it really shouldn’t have been any surprise. The hardest part was setting them in places where they wouldn’t be spotted and measuring out the blast zone to know where would be safe and where wouldn’t.

When it was all said and done he dropped to the ground and smoothly fell into step on the street, throwing his hood back and not lingering in the area any longer than necessary.

Limerick clearly wasn’t going along with any sort of speed sport, which felt weird and didn’t make sense to him. What was he going to do, crash his own car just to kill the other Sith? Oh well, such was life. He just shrugged.

They made their way through the street and notably he didn't stab Iym in the empty portions of the street. To be honest, even in the crowded streets on Omega probably nobody would have gotten involved.

Vander had to admit he was caught off guard by the question that the other Sith asked. He shouldn't have been. The interaction on Korriban hadn't gone unnoticed by anyone.

And she seemed terrified to see you notice, he said without missing a beat, his voice even... if they were making observations. It begged questions of its own. Questions that had brought them to this point.

The final statement, however, caused Vander to stop and turn to the other Sith. His face was completely deadpan and unflinching.

Do I seem like the type to fall in love with someone after meeting them once? I know we don't know each other well, but come on, he said.

No, he added, making sure the answer to both questions was very clear lest he be accused of being evasive. It wasn't a lie, either. Vander wasn't even ready to admit to himself that he might have a bit of a crush, but he most certainly was not in love with anyone. Love had come and gone a long time ago and with another.

He kept walking and thought about just leaving it there. It shouldn't have been any of Iym business, but he owned Zira, which made it their business whether Vander wanted it to be or not. There were risks to being too open about anything with Sith, but there was also benefit.

And... if all else failed, there was always violence and the ultimate currency.

I enjoy Zira's company. And I do mean her company, he said, cutting off any accusations at the pass. Perhaps Iym would wonder about Vander's insistence on this point. Perhaps they would not. Perhaps they would ponder it in conjunction with the very first time the two had met.

How many people in our line of work - in this pit of vipers we work in - are truly pleasant to be around? I'm not, he stated bluntly. He wasn't - nor did he try to be - pleasant.

Everyone in that group was there to play a political game, he said. Sure, he knew that Zira was expected to observe and report to Iym, but for herself... she just was. There was no ulterior motive, there was no machination, there was just Zira. It was rare and refreshing, and it only occurred to him now as he verbalized it that her innocence was part of what drew him to her.

Now, is that a problem? he asked. Here they came to the crux of the issue. Limerick struck Vander as the jealous type. The type to find this revelation unacceptable just because it was. Vander didn't pretend he would guess at Limerick's reaction, but perhaps honesty was the best route in this case. Perhaps.