The Nature of Relationships

[TweedPawn]

Sacul was a jewel hidden in the folds of wild space. It drifted along, with shimmering blue waters, pristine emerald forests, and bright cities. But the rare touches of the Galaxy the planet experienced had always brought misfortune. Every time, the Snamreg grew more cunning, swifter, and less afraid of the shadows where they hid. It should have been considered a marvel.

The largest city, Skagrit, was a capital of shining blue glass tiles and silver steel. Everyone wanted an ocean view, almost to defy the hypnosis of the night time waters, where ancient monsters still lived and ate. Della herself was sitting in a restaurant that overlooked the evening waters, but her gaze was not towards the ocean, it was towards the sky. Dangerous stars that hid more than her people could ever know. To her, they were a reminder of darkness, love, chaos, order, and the friendships who helped her survive.

Friendships that kept her connected. By her people's standards, she should have been approaching middle age. Even with the increasing quality of health care, the Snamreg were still at a lifespan of sixty years. Della knew she would live longer than that. Soon, her people would as well. But yet, the friendships she forged in those stars were warning her. A friend was in dire trouble.

Della's mind saw images of chaos and pain. She knew where it was coming from, but she couldn't simply just leave the planet. No, she was a prisoner on her homeworld. Bound by a bargain that kept her people safe.

She was waiting for the arrival of the one who wrote the contract.

The restaurant was elegant. Golden in its interior and dimly lit. Della knew she would not recognize her guest when he arrived. He had that sort of habit. Her glass of ice water rested. The menus remained untouched. Della had ordered a bottle of beachberry mead. A sweet, vanilla like fruit that was expensive to bottle. It sat uncorked in its bucket of ice and next to two glasses.

As for Della herself, she knew her own celebrity caused attention. She didn't need papers to gossip about the latest potential suitor. She had her hair tucked elegantly into a a small heart-shaped hat with light blue netting to partially cover her face. Her facial tattoos were important, but hard to cover. Her outfit was modest, lacking anything couture. She nervously fidgeted her her napkin.

 

[Dmitri]

A Nestis called the Empyreal exited hyperspace in the outskirts of the solar systems that cradled Sacul. The ship was vessel to the Dark Lord of the Sith, taking a long detour on his way to a war trust meeting. He had departed early to calculate in the trip. Halting his ship, the Dark Lord coalesced the Dark Side into himself. Through concentration, he materialized an illusion of Kugelschrieber in Skagrit. It would appear in a dark alley, normally abandoned. There was a homeless man present, though his professions of the 'sudden arrive of the Dark Hound's avatar' would ultimately be brushed off as insane ranting.

The Kugelschrieber doppelganger made its way to a restaurant where the real Kugelschrieber had once visited on multiple occasions. Walking past waiters and hungry customers, careful to avoid contact (where no contact would exist), to weave over to a table where Della Frey sat. Kugelschrieber sat down at the opposite chair.

"You seem nervous," observed Geist's voice from Kugelschrieber's lips. It was no difficult task to guess why. Still, the pact that rooted her to her planet had also barred Geist from setting foot on it. As such, illusions were the closest he could get.

 

[TweedPawn]

"aj-aj." Della started in her native tongue, before remembering to switch to basic.

"It has been a long time. I was not sure how you would arrive, or if you would arrive." The possibility of Geist coming with a small military had not escaped Della's imagination. Her memory still pieced together Geist's cold metallic face. The nightmare of his wrath still chased her. What made her truly fearful was the thought of him finding her children, and deciding that their abilities were not reaching full potential on their home world.

A plate of hot bread was brought to the table with a pat of fresh butter. Yet, Della found her appetite waning.

"I understand that recent events would test your patience with my people. I apologize for their actions" The fact that she even had to apologize made her stomach turn. The part of Gaunerei that lingered still, the memory of his personality, wanted to shove that baguette where the sun never shined.

"And it is because of those actions that I choose to be formal with my own request." She stated. She had mentally rehearsed this. She could do it. She had toppled slave drivers and survived wars. She birthed children, and escaped poisonous gases.

"I still choose to be connected to the Force, and it has revealed that a close friend of mine is in terrible condition. With your permission, I wish to leave my planet and find her."

 

[Dmitri]

The way she apologized, though subtle, hinted as an insult rather than an apology. The Dark Lord ignored it. He knew he deserved it. He had wronged this planet, further than he had done elsewhere (unless one counted the Mandalorians). His machinations had led to altering changes to plague the planet of Sacul. It was in fact these issues that he hypothesized why she had called for this meeting. Instead, he was thrown off-guard by the request.

"I see," Geist said simply, gathering his thoughts. He paused, collecting his thoughts. The pronoun clue disqualified the concern about the Black Hound or Gaunarei. Lain was still on the planet, if memory served. Of his limited knowledge on Della's relationships, he could only think of one possibility: Ebberla Daw. Guilt riddled the Dark Lord. How would she respond to learning that Geist was again responsible for her woes.

 

[TweedPawn]

He was thinking. Calculating. Della was doing the same as well. She was trying not to recall the monster that haunted her childhood. So, it was odd that she thought she sensed a form of guilt coming from Geist. It made sense, after his fall on Sacul, he asked for forgiveness. It was perhaps unjust to dehumanize the man before him.

The waiter interrupted the awkward silence.

"Are you both ready for your order?"

"Just the soup please." Della said. The waiter took down Geist's request and also poured the Beachberry mead into two glasses. Della took a sip, recalling how she used to be so childish around such drinks. She carried herself differently now. She was harder, more resilient. She had survived the loss of her best friends.

Della wished she knew exactly what was going on. His silence was often used as a tactic. Della knew that much about him. He was much more powerful now. Della could feel it in the Force.

"If that is all right, with you?" she replied. Her confidence was returning. She had a little more proudly now. Her nervousness started to flutter from her. Let him try to steal her children, or kinsmen. He wouldn't be the first animal she gutted.

"I see that you are quieter these days."