Another Day in the Empire (Warvanus, Rahab)

[Kell Sangros]

Inside the shuttle that Warvanus started to refer to as home, he had just returned to real space enroute to nowhere, he had been flying a lot lately ever since he acquired the shuttle that he liberated from the Malevolent and acquired his starfighter. He was heading to one of the data centers that were spread throughout the Empire. He had to follow up on an inquiry , he had been trying to find out information about the Revanites. He had secured a book that contained just about everything about them, initiation, rituals, their manifesto, everything.

However, he had found a curious map inside the book and sent a copy for the Sith’s scholars to provide some insight on it. It maybe nothing, it may not. Wouldn’t know unless he found out.

The shuttle had been in cruise mode as He continued to study the tome, page by page he had found it more interesting He was sure Lord Blood would enjoy this as well. Especially if the map inside bore any real fruit.

He was not far from most of the main Sith controlled worlds. Question is would he need to make planetfall?

[Rahab Aapofi]

A message was sent to Warvanus. If he accepted the transmission, he would see that it was text only.

It read:

A table has been reserved for you. Attendance is requested by the extension of the Will of the Dark Lord Dastan Imatari.

Glory to the Sith

Following that was a string of numbers, arranged in an archaic format. They were coordinates to the planet Bronsoon, to the longitude and latitude of the establishment as well as the (unreasonably soon as possible as in right now) time he was expected to be there.

[Kell Sangros]

The shuttle was inching along on it’s path, when the comm blipped. He hit the switch but saw the alert that it was text only. The codes matched those that were used by Lord Imatari. “It must be important” he said to himself. He hit a few more buttons and the co-ordinates were entered into the navicomputer it wasn’t far at all, with that he soon found himself in hyperspace.

Warvanus did find it odd that it was not a voice message. He would have to prepare for the possibility of it being a trap. He would be ready, the beeping from the navicomputer started beeping at him signaling that he was appraoching the planet Bronsoon. He admitted he was not familiar with this world. He would be ready for anything.

Clearing to land came with no incident as did the approach to land. Once landed he disembarked and donned his armor. Lightsaber hanging at his side. Once he was ready he entered the establishment and was taken to his reserved table. Just as he suspected Dastan was no where to be found. His senses were alert, but he sensed no danger but he would remain vigilant as he took his seat and waited.

[Rahab Aapofi]

It started to rain on Bronsoon.

The numerical instructions wove through back alleyways of the business district, to a street that went down, below the sea level of the city. He had come upon a hole-in-the-wall. The entrance was literally that; with building material stuck out jaggedly. There was no sign indicating what this place was, if it was anything at all, but there were sounds of beings coming from with in.

A few eyes looked up at him when he entered before their owner’s returned to their hushed, private conversations. Some soft, bell filled music floated from an unseen makeshift kitchen that a single overworked waitress who had taken Warvanus to the table was coming from and going to. She carried a tray; to low, ornate tables, that held large mugs, little plates of food and delicate, finely made hookahs. Each table was surrounded by decorative pillows, none of which looked very comfortable to sit on.

A woman with blue skin in a bright pink dress stood on low flat shipping crate which was serving as a makeshift stage, right by the door. She was reciting a poem about caste-crossed lovers in a clear, crisp voice but the microphone was of poor quality, it barely carried her words and crackled intermittently.

On the tables that weren’t being used for customers were candles that served as the only light for this place. They were tall and close together, melting into mounds that pooled dripping wax on to the floor. Any surface that was not being used for candles or customers sat bundles of burning incense. It was a heavy scent, warm and earthy. The floors and walls were both covered in mismatched squares of damaged woven carpet.

His presence there had created a tension. Those sitting around tables drew closer to one another without realizing why beyond the obvious, as he was lead to the furthest corner of the place. Even a cursory glance would reveal the customers to all be women. The table that had been reserved for Warvanus was the largest one there, with the most pillows. It was likely used for parties.

The woman in her bright dress and bright voice finished her poem and there was a clatter of small spoons against deep mugs. As she walked off the stage, the waitress was drawing near to Warvanus’s table and Rahab crossed the threshold of the café. She had been lightly rained on, entering just in time because now it was pouring out.

If Warvanus was attuned to such a thing, the levels of anxiety Rahab was feeling dwarfed all the other women there.

Rahab crossed the room to her table as the sounds of spoons slowed and ceased, and took her seat on the pillows across from him. Her face was covered by a veil of thick dark fabric in the style indicative of Theselon, with chunky lace known for its intricate beauty and also being itchy and unpleasant to the touch.

She was catching her breath as the waitress, nervous and eager to be away from this table, sat a mug of something dark in front of Warvanus and a hookah in front of Rahab, who was unslinging a teal satchel from her shoulders and situating it be sides herself.

The waitress hurried away the moment the bottom of the hookah hit the table.

“Ah, there you are,” She said softly from behind the veil, as if she had been the one sitting waiting for him. In her mind she had been, and she could not be still the very few moments it took him to get here. There had been something that caught her eye in one of the stores and she went back to go get it, “I was beginning to think I was chasing wild birds.”

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus could pick up on the increased tension. He attributed it to the fact that a Sith was sitting amongst them. People feared the sith, some revered them, some loathed and outright hated him. He expected it, he drank in their fear. He looked around the establishment, He found it odd indeed that Lord Imatari would want to meet him here. However, he did not sense his presence anywhere, so he knew he was not coming. Question is, who wanted him here. He would wait a few minutes then he would either kill everybody in the place or he would simply leave. Whatever inpulse struck him is what he would do. The waitress left him a drink, he could see her fear he didnt need the Force.

He would not remove his helmet here. If he did then he would most certainly slaughter everybody in this hole in the wall. Then he felt a presence approach and a second after he sensed the presence he heard a voice address him. He then saw the person, it was nobody he had ever met before. He narrowed his eyes though they would not be seen as he was in his armor and the helmet hid his face. His voice was mechanical and menacing as he spoke.

“Who are you?” he barked “You have ten seconds to explain why you impersonated a Sith Lord and called me here” he was not a summoning dog. He was Warvanus, he was the embodiment of war. He was a killing machine, not a courier. He did not move, he did not change his body language but those who would pick up on such things would know that he was annoyed and getting impatient. After all he did have a pickup to do before he returned to Sojourn.

He stretched out with his senses and he had a suspicion on what this was about as he could sense the Force within her. Aching to be released, to be honed. He would not let on about his suspicions.He would let this young woman tell him why she has decided to play with the sharp end of the blade that was Warvanus.

“You now have 8 seconds” he stated.

[Rahab Aapofi]

Most of the customers were smart enough to keep their eyes away from the corner where Warvanus and Rahab were seated, but a few did look over quickly before looking away. Some closer to the door were attempting to make casual exists but other than that the café’s activities continued on around them. A different woman took the stage. A different poem about caste-crossed love.

“My master,” She started, her soft tone hadn’t changed but her heart was beating so fast she was sure he would be able to heart it. Her words were slow and deliberate. If this man had known her at all he would have noticed the half step in speed she was picking up between each word. It was a miracle she wasn’t stammering.

As she spoke, Rahab moved very, very, very, very slowly towards her bag, as if she was afraid any fast movements would startle the man into a regrettable action, “The Dark Lord Dastan Imatari did issue a decree until me that I am to locate the man who hails by the moniker, Lord Blood. And I have been told that you possess the knowledge of his whereabouts.”

She undid the bag’s zipper, just as slow as she was speaking and moving, “As my Master's apprentice, I am an envoy of his will. When I move, it is an extension of his movement. I move because he wishes it. I had no intention to mislead you.“

Rahab knew, more or less, that she had and was playing a dangerous game of wordplay. But she had little desire to be told no and even less of desire to fail this quest she had been sent on. She had brought no weapons with her to this place, only the clout that she assumed came from serving under someone in such a high position that she planned to swing about to get what she wanted. She pulled a chess board from her bag. It was carved in the same material as the tables but a great deal plainer. Just a simple black and white checkered board, designed to be folded and hold its own pieces on the inside.

[Kell Sangros]

Warvanus watched and listened as this young woman spoke. One of Lord Imatari’s apprentices, he sensed no deceit in her words as she spoke. He had also been told by Lord Blood that someone might be reaching out to him and if it happened that he had specific instructions on what he was to do. He had noticed that the being in front of the mic changed and began reciting some awful poem. Why did it seem that beings focused on romance and love? It sickened him and the scent of this place was beginning to get very foul to Warvanus.

“Obeying your Master is a good trait in an apprentice” he said. Warvanus was a special case, the beginnings of his training he did have a Master who vanished without a trace. He had been duped by some Esoteric cult in making him think that he had found him it was a ruse though. For most of his training he had learned on his own, he had wrestled many secrets from the Force. Now he was under the tutelage of Lord Blood. He was guiding his training though at times he was still left to his own vices but he had someone who he could discuss these things with. A sense of belonging, now that he had gotten his own training back on track his sole focus now was increasing his power and knowledge in the Force.

He noticed the woman’s deliberate slow movements. He sensed no danger from her, he also could sense her anxiousness for lack of a better word but he pretended not to notice he would not give this woman reassurance. So she was trying to find Lord Blood. He sat there for long moments, noticing more and more people making their exit. Siths are bad for business he thought to himself. He wanted to laugh. He extended his senses opening himself to the Force, keeping them alert. Just in case…

“I know how to put you in contact with Lord Blood” he began “But I cannot tell you where he is” he paused as he rose from his seat. “Lord Blood is expecting you , and I have been asked to bring you to him personally, So if you have nothing left to do we can be on our way because trust me when I say, You do not want to keep Lord Blood waiting”

[Rahab Aapofi]

Rahab took his compliment in silence as she placed the chess board on the table. It was a relief, a terrible relief, to be under the command of someone else’s rule again. She couldn’t remember the freedom she felt being on her own, just how stressful; sore and strange, it felt. Lately, she was having trouble calling forth her memories, as well as holding on to present thoughts. Her feelings felt like jumbled messes that she couldn’t untangle and she couldn’t make sense of anything of them. It was like the red haze from her induction into the Order had settled behind her eyes and into her brain. Before contacting Warvanus, she had wandered about this city, fading in and out of a daze. Her feet somehow brought her to this little tucked away place. Rahab had nearly fainted over the threshold. The waitress and a customer (who had long since left) had helped her to the back table where she ate and drank for the first time this day. She had let the staff know what she was planning to do and had paid in advanced, that was the only reason why there had not been more of a scene when Warvanus had entered here; this place beneath the city where women of different castes could gather in secret.

The waitress was currently putting bags filled with sand by the makeshift door in an attempt to keep the rain water out. It was was collecting on the low-level street and was quickly forming an ankle deep puddle. The rain was showing no signs of letting up.

Rahab took the pieces from the box’s padded lining while she waited for the man’s response. The chess pieces were simple, carved from crystal rocks native to this planet. The black pieces were polished with flecks of white. The white pieces were semi-transparent stones with swirls of black. The set had been in the clearance section for being defected.

As Warvanus stood, Rahab brought the pipe’s mouthpiece to her lips. She inhaled and then exhaled, using the smoke to cover an exasperated sigh. If he had been expecting her, than what was all his fussing about? She wasn’t sure if that spoke to his temperament alone, or if it was a man thing or if this was just expected behavior of a Sith or maybe it was just—all of the galaxy itself. Back in her homeland; she had often been scolded for moving about too hurriedly. But now, everything around her felt too fast. It made her feel like she belonged no where.

Smoke rolled out from under her veil, curling mostly into the now emptied game box. It made lazy loops into the air before thinning out and becoming one with the incense around them. The smell of it was tart and floral, like the juices of a bitter fruit.

“That I do not doubt, but surely there is time for a game between us?” She said, her voice rough from the smoke. Rahab took the two queen pieces in her free hand and leaned forward, holding them up to him so that he could make a selection if he decided to humor her request. Her hand was trembling, “If the Lord Blood is cross, it would not be dishonest to tell him that I held us up, please, Warvanus, be still with me a while”

[Kell Sangros]

While Chess was a game he rarely played. He removed one of his armored gauntlets it revealed his forearm. On the forearm were scars from being burnt.

“If you value your life you will not keep Lord Blood waiting” he began “See these scars?, a gift from Lord Blood because I made him wait. This would have been my whole body had I not tapped deeply into the Force” after giving her a good look he secured the gauntlet back on. “I was barely an acolyte when he did this to me.” If he relented then they would both be punished he was certain, her for delaying him and him for letting her delay them. “I am leaving, you can either come with me and I can take you to Lord Blood or you can stay here and deal with the consequences of your irresponsibility” If she was Dastan’s apprentice she would know how the Sith work by now. Does she have really what it takes? That was what he believed was the purpose of her going to Lord Blood.
He waited for an answer, it was in her hands now either way he was leaving

[Rahab Aapofi]

There was a clatter of spoons on mugs around them when Warvanus removed his gauntlet. Rahab’s own arm was still up. She transfixed in the moment. When she realized she was staring, she pulled her hand back and started to put the pieces away much faster than she had taken them out. Rahab had been prepared to be turned down, expecting it and had been ready to take it as a slight but without meaning to she had gotten something of even greater value to her than she was even hoping to have gotten. She was not sure what she was feeling but she was feeling it in an overwhelming quantity.

“I-No-“ She started, stumbling over her words, some of them becoming barely audible above the music, “F-Forgive me, I thought, that we could have, we could, become to know more—to be more acquainted before departing—“ Rahab cleared her throat, putting an end to her clumsy apology.

Even in her hurry, she was careful to return the game into her bag as not to crush anything and stood up, slinging the satchel over her shoulder before joined him on the other side of the table, though at a respectable distance.