Ascendancy

[Elias]

Since the inception of the Rebellion, and the rise to prominence of a particular Chiss, the formerly isolationist society let the door crack open slightly. Seeing value in spreading their influence out into the galaxy, while still maintaining isolationism in the interest of preservation of culture and values, the Ascendancy began to allow the various political and economic factions of the galaxy to attempt to court their people into employ. The Gala organized on the Dawn’s Edge space station in orbit of Csilla welcomed visitors from across the galaxy to socialize and enjoy a taste of Chiss culture, without allowing them on the planet’s surface.

A plethora of species and factions were represented among the gathering, most wearing some identifying marking, but not all. The Gala had been on-going for approximately an hour now, and Xare’lia’sabosen had yet to find a single individual that piqued his interest. Most, with what little research they were able to glean about the ruling families, assumed he was most interested in trade factions or educational academies. He listened to the offers made without betraying any of his wishes, and subsequently they were all turned away, one by one.

This was his third function now in the past five years he had attended, and like all the rest he found them droll. The reception hall that welcomed the guests was lavishly decorated in a marble-like appearance, with unnecessary pillars rising to equally unnecessary heights. The chamber was meant to be awe-inducing to those unfamiliar, while also putting them off balance with the grandiose decorations and magnitude of the hall.

Xare’lia’sabosen had since retired toward one of many central bars, where a circular marble counter-top held a lone Chiss bartender to take the orders of any patrons. These bartenders had the secondary task of gathering information that might assist any other of their kind in any decisions about their fate in the galaxy. Xare’lia’sabosen had just finished gathering information on the faction that had made the latest failed attempt to court him, and with a stoic impression that hid his disappointment, turned towards the rest of the chamber with an arm rested behind him on the counter and a blue index finger tracing a circle around the rim of his glass.

[Veresmya Altairus]

Tonight, she was a Countess of Serenno. No expense had been spared in preparing her appearance; her dress cascaded down her curvaceous frame, her hair expertly curled and otherwise left to flow lustrously along her back, feet clad in heels that were the peak of modern fashion, and a matching clutch to tie in the shimmering splendor that was her jewelry. Were it that she needed a confidence boost to perform the task set out before her, the sheer opulence of her attire would have sufficed. As it was, Veresmya had been at the game of subterfuge most of her life and she did not lack in self assurance.

Arriving fashionable late, her honey colored eyes slid across the room. A bejeweled hand darted up, promptly silencing the man at the door about to announce her presence. His sudden intake of breath and then the ensuing silence as the patrons swiveled their attention was more than enough of an impromptu introduction. She looked bored but not altogether unimpressed by the event, foraying into the crush of delegates and Chiss that loitered about the main room. She was handed a beverage ensconced in a crystalline glass and then made her way deeper into the throng; nodding this way and that as people more familiar with the roster of attendees gathered who, exactly, she was. Modifying the guest list with the Countess' name had been the simpler part of the mission. Now, the game was truly afoot.

At once she probably stood out as an oddity. No physical markers of her allegiance like the vast majority of the delegates present, seemingly no interest whatsoever to simper and preen over the decorated Chiss on display; in fact, her gaze didn't seem to linger with any measure of interest on one Chiss over another. Anyone who knew the Countess of Demici could automatically assume three things; she was recently widowed, she came from one of the most wealthy and influential families in the galaxy, and she had absolutely no reason for being here other than to make the other delegates nail-bitingly nervous. Who didn't love a good mystery? Veresmya was a convoluted one, to be sure.

She made her rounds, even going so far as to offer an aloof but cryptically perfect greeting in Cheunh that was superbly stylized by her rich accent. Eventually, she moved to one of the centralized bars for a refill of her beverage. Judging from a short-lived silence and the looks she received, information gatherers had undoubtedly detected a new lead. She wasn't interested in entertaining bartenders and the look she sliced the one serving her clearly took the hint.

The first time she had espied him, it was from across the bar. Stoic, bored, seemingly wearing disappointment like a cloak around his broad shoulders. Her right eyebrow lofted and then promptly slid back down, lest she give the game away.

She crooked a finger at the bartender and he approached. "I believe some of my couriers stocked this bar with wine. Demici Vigneto, year zero. I'll take a glass and you can bring one to him, over there." She said, indicating the Chiss with his back to her. Her eyes narrowed slightly. "Bring the whole bottle, actually."

Dornek Thursk was going to smite her when he finally got a peek at the budget she had set for herself. Ah, well...

[Elias]

The sound of the glass scraping across the countertop drew his attention, though he was well aware of the shuffling otherwise. He had assumed the bartender’s movement was for another, and surely it was until that point. “From the lady.” The Chiss bartender gestured with a sweep of his hand across the bar, Xare’lia’sabosen following the direction gestured to the dark haired, apparently human woman. He curiously appraised her, finding no distinguishing markings on her, nor recalling her announcement. What really piqued his curiosity, however, was how aloof she was. Most would send a drink, and not be far behind it. She seemed content to send him a drink for some mysterious reason, but then proceed to be content to remain alone.

Curious. His mind mused to himself, his gaze turning back away and the glass sampled from. It was the lasting effect that made a difference, because while he attempted to dismiss the woman from his mind since she seemed to hold no further interest, it was that exact reason he continued to contemplate who she was. His eyes cut to the bartender as discretely as could be managed, then drifted to the woman, and again back to him. He shrugged in response, apparently having as little information as he did.

An anomaly. He sampled the wine again, this time using her selection to appraise her. It was rich, bold, but delicious. It was also an expensive selection, and while he would have normally assumed a single sent glass meant she did it to make a statement, the purchase of an entire bottle sent a different message. It spoke to him that while he was a fleeting moment of her consideration, her tastes were expensive, and he needed to be just as worth her time as he felt she needed to be worth his.

Gathering the stem, he plucked it from the countertop and rounded the bar. ”Very well.” He mused to himself before he was in ear shot. ”You’ve succeeded in the one thing no one else has thus far. You have piqued my curiosity, and you have my attention. I would assume you are here for the same reason the other off-worlder’s are, and yet you are not traipsing about, making your bid.”

[Veresmya Altairus]

"Demici Vigneto, year zero." The bartender announced once he'd returned, rotating the bottle before her gaze to display the label. He then poured a serving halfway up the bowl of the wineglass and inched the vessel closer to her. Her index and middle finger alighted upon the base, giving the deep burgundy liquid a professional swirl. Then, she clasped the fragile glass by the stem and sampled her selection. Judging by the rich flavor, Dornek was definitely going to kill her when she returned; renewing her resolve to see this mission concluded in the Devout's favor. An estimation of the seconds it would take, to ensure the bartender had filled her mark's own glass and subtly steered his attention to her, had not been inaccurate. Honey colored eyes rose, melding with vibrant crimson as the Chiss made his approach. She fought back the impulse to let a victorious smile shine through.

"I could regale you with stories of the nobility of Serenno, try to coax you with tales of our riches and influence." She all but purred, circling her finger around the rim of the glass. At once, her expression hardened. "I'm not inclined to traipse about and unfortunately, if any of those stories might have even interested you in the slightest, the very thought of droning on like the rest of those desperate fools out there makes me wish I hadn't put in an appearance at all." She informed him coolly, sending a scathing glance toward the more populated areas they had both retreated from. Her mannerism warmed significantly the closer he got. She turned her body to face his approach and her eyes dipped across his form approvingly; an undeniable display of behavior typically associated with a woman used to getting what she wanted, when she wanted it.

"Do you enjoy the vintage, sir? I'll admit, it is one of my favorites..." She took another sip from her glass, her tongue darting across her lower lip to whisk away any lingering flavor she might have missed.

[Elias]

His wine glass was set down atop the counter, but his fingers kept the stem pinched between them. The marble radiated a cool sensation through the outside of his palm that came into contact with it, a not unfamiliar sensation giving the frigid climate of Csilla. The first thing he noted was where she was from, Serenno. He knew a little of the planet and catalogued her place in it away for the time being. Next was how she did not take offense to words that could have very easily been misconstrued as rude, which spoke to the idea that she was not one for pretenses. Good.

“If you wish you hadn’t attended, why did you come? Do you answer to others?” He was gauging her social standing on her world. She likely knew enough about the circumstance to know that his presence was likely a product of his ruling houses request, but given his disposition, he too was not inclined to be pandered to, or pander to others he knew nothing about. “Some people like to hear themselves talk.” He admitted, though in no way referencing her, and instead referring to her statement about how the other guests would drone on about what made them an ideal fit to the person they happened to be speaking to at the time.

That she sized him up did not go unnoticed, and he frankly might have been disappointed if she didn’t take the time to gather all the information she could in whatever manner she could. Just as she now sized him up, he had done so in his approach, and mirrored her by giving her another once over. He sampled the wine once more to remind himself of the flavor. “It is good. Bold. I can’t say I have had it before. Should this reflect a taste for the finer things?” He eased the stem back down and gently spun the glass atop the surface. “So, what are your aims, if you are not going to subject yourself to the same as the other patrons? Is it a presence for the sake of making an appearance, or are you looking for something?”

[Veresmya Altairus]

"We all answer to someone." Came her swift reply, punctuated by the lifting of her wine glass to her glossy mouth. A cryptic response that did not entertain the real question he was asking; Who do you answer to? Or, perhaps he was just trying to find equal footing with her. The Ruling Houses of the Chiss provided a social and governmental structure she had familiarized herself with before infiltrating the gala, among other things. Each Family seemed to be dedicated to one particular sector of government. Which did he belong to, she wondered.

"And some people prefer to judge others not based on what they say but what they accomplish with their actions." She murmured quietly, almost certain that his off-handed comment was not directed toward her specifically. He seemed to be enjoying the pomp and circumstance as much as she did, nearly not at all. The intimacy of their conversation now was far preferable but still not ideal for the devil's deals she was looking to strike. He inquired about his taste for finer things and she laughed oh so softly, causing her finely curved cheekbones to raise in amusement.

"I am not here to seek out a fleet of a thousand starships or support in a war campaign that has been waging without Chiss influence in a tale as old as time. I am searching for an individual of untapped potential. Any one of those poor sods out there could throw enough Galactic credits and empty promises around to make clout in the Senate. But... that isn't how your people operate, is it?" A single step brought her closer to him, her tone growing hushed. "The galaxy has teetered at the precipice of change for too long. Those that I answer to are not blinded by xenophobia, mired in committees that inevitably halt the will of progress. I am seeking out an unmatched tactician, a resonant voice, a dedicated leader. What I seek is more valuable than anything those delegates out there are trying to coax out of the Aristocra. What I offer, tenfold."

She stopped, looking down into her now empty glass. Performing an elegant quarter turn that sent her dark tresses cascading over her shoulder, she took up the bottle of wine.

"I wonder where ... I might find someone like that..." These last words were purred over her shoulder, awarding him with a wink before moving toward one of the nearest exits.

[Elias]

He focused intently on her as she spoke, with a far different proposition than any others he had heard, while not actually being a proposition. Still, he did not perceive her as foolish, and thus did not perceive her spilling all of this information as being the boastings of a noble-born who’d had a few too many. Where she had hooked him, was the mystery associated with the entire exchange. He still had no idea who she worked for, or what her aims were, but they were apparently greater than the current warring factions, to which he had no interest in their conflict.

Just one person. Naturally, as she expected, her words evoked a pride that he could be that one person, and that her path might evoke a destiny few others were lucky enough to trod upon. Yet, he was still a practical man, capable of tempering his vanity when it was important to do so. The fact that she turned and departed was not viewed as a slight, but an invitation. He again was sure she would not have provided him such an information dump, only to leave and question what he would do with that information amongst his peers. It was a hook, and he was not ashamed to bite.

His hand pushed the edge of the wine glass towards the center of the bar, then foraged a credit chit out to discard upon the counter, before moving onward. His hands swept into the waist pockets of his tunic, carefully navigating the grounds with a gait the idea of anyone turning to grab his attention. Off-worlders looked but took careful note of his lack of eye contact and overall dismissal, until he found himself beside his previous company and just cresting the threshold out of the reception hall. “I see you like games.”

[Veresmya Altairus]

Perhaps it was his placid expression or the unreadable quality of his unorthodox eyes; Veresmya could not gauge the Chiss for his reaction regarding the information she shared. She could not even fathom why she was already willing to place all her Canto Casino chips on him. Perhaps it was the Force, the guidance of the ancient ones she served leading them both along the path of fate. Or, maybe it was the phenomenon of unnatural luck that had graced her ever since she committed herself to the Devout. Either way, she was certain he'd bite. She made it no further than the threshold of the ballroom when she felt his presence at her side. Her honey colored eyes cut across to him, crinkling in amusement as she swept past the porter holding the door open.

Once they were both outside earshot of the man, she slid her fingers beneath his elbow and nestled them in the crook there; the glass she'd brought with her and the neck of bottle nestled safely between the fingers of her other hand. "Games are only as interesting as the players make them. What is life if not an intricate game of strategy and survival?" She subtly steered them toward the station bays where her ship was docked. It would be a far more private setting for them to go over more details.

"You know far more about my goals and I still know very little of your own." She did not even know his name. Veresmya delayed her desire to ask it, however. In asking, she would only open the door for him to know her's, as well. If introductions could be prolonged, she may not need to lie anymore than she already had. "Tell me about yourself." She opted instead for a more broad inquiry, laying her head upon his shoulder and fluttering her eyelashes up at him in rapt interest.

[Elias]

He accepted the place as her escort, not shunning the touch of her hand looped in his arm, but not reading any deeper into it than a gentlemanly gesture. “I wasn’t complaining.” He assured her, sparing only a brief glance to her at his side. “What’s life without a little mystery, after all, and I see those are the kinds of games you like to play.” Chiss society was often too predictable for him, and while many were students of strategy and politics, that predictability would always hold them back from achieving true greatness. She had her own analogy, and he couldn’t help but agree, while finding it insightful. Definitely not just a pretty face.

He recognized the path she led them down, even without paying much mind to the placards that directed them about the station. While he had no intention of leaving the station presently, he was willing to hear her out, and he knew she would prefer to converse in true privacy; a difficult thing to come by on the station.

She eased into a state of comfort that he was not prepared for, but rather than show that he maintained a rigid posture that wouldn’t betray him. He wondered if she were trying to rattle him or test the limits of the vaunted Chiss composure. Either one could be useful for attempting to steer the conversation to her favor and find out some particular information. “Truly, I don’t know nearly anything about your goals. You are very adept at telling a person things, without actually telling them anything. Your words could have so many meanings, but very well…”

He recognized that this was not a one sided exchange, and they were both interviewing to see how capably they could meet the others needs. “I am of the Ruling House of Sabosen, but I have little interest in matters of social issues. I am also not particularly a fan of being labeled on where I belong for my name, hence my distance from the normal events of the Gala. I am also not interested in falling into the anonymity of the Republic or the Empire, to be another cog in their wheel. Who really is satisfied with mediocrity, though. What else were you wanting to know?”

[Veresmya Altairus]

Veresmya aimed an innocent grin up at him at his deduction but said nothing to defend herself against his accusations, given his acceptance. She was far too interested in what new information she might glean from his next words. The Sabosen Family, she was not unfamiliar with them. They predominantly handled matters of education, healthcare, and the justice system. While these things were not particularly tied to the role she was looking to fill with someone of the Chiss, they were not to be overlooked. Education and the structure of the justice system tied into every facet of government and leadership. Her companion was kind enough to supply even more useful data on himself regarding their current circumstance that could only assist in acquiring him.

They turned down a corridor that opened up considerably, giving way to lift access channels and hangar bay doors that grew in size the longer they walked. "You've told me a great deal of things you are not interested in. If not the sectors of government assigned to the Sabosen, what would you prefer to excel at? What are your ambitions, if you remove your innate obligations from the equation?"

Midway down the expansive hallway, she steered them toward one of the hangars. A retinal scan and code was submitted at the panel near the door, which then peeled open; gusting slightly warmer air over their forms and tinging the air they breathed with the faint smell of hyperfuel. She did not relinquish his elbow but encouraged him to step inside the empty bay with her with a slight tug.

[Elias]

“Astutely noted.” He remarked at how she dissected his words. He hadn’t even been aware of the direction he had taken when describing his goals, or in this case, what his goals were not. “Remember, this conversation turns the other direction soon.” He reminded her, just as the bay doors whooshed open. Sitting some thirty meters away was the familiar frame of a Lamba-class shuttle, it’s two side wings folded up to reduce its profile within the bay. “You sure you’re not Imperial?” He joked, given how they were often associated with the Galactic Empire.

With the rear of the vessel to them, he noted the lowered boarding ramp, likely left so open because of the security required to access the bay in the first place. “I see no crew. Are you a pilot?” Or perhaps she had a droid fly her. After a few paces towards the ship, the Bay doors swept closed with a tug of air behind them. “It’s hard to pin down exactly what my goals are. The easiest thing is part of what I said. To be relevant. If you are looking for a field of expertise, I’d say strategy.” Which, of course, tied into many different fields of battle, both the literal kind and the figurative.

He took the invitation into the bay as an open invitation to the shuttle and continued to lead them onward up the ramp. Extra attention was given to her pace as they ascended the grooved ramp, ensuring she didn’t lose her footing. Once inside, he noted the interior was not the normal spartan conditions one might expect of an Imperial Lambda shuttle, or a random Lambda, for that matter. Ahead lay the cockpit, which was standard in it’s design, but towards the rear the seating had been changed out for cozier accomodations.

[Veresmya Altairus]

"Certainly not." She assured him with a smile, knowing he referred to the model of the ship she had borrowed from the Devout's modest fleet. "And while I could muddle my way through piloting her, I actually have a droid on board handling it for me."

They approached the extended ramp of the shuttle and he offered her more information. Each word revealed made her heart beat a little faster, a little deeper; a telltale sign whenever that intrinsic force within her became acutely aware. She disguised her excitement well enough, carefully stepping along the rutted surface of the ramp with his gentlemanly assistance. Once within, she relinquished his arm and moved to the ornate, glossy-black topped table positioned in front of a plush couch in the cabin of the shuttle. She set down her glass, poured herself another serving, and then set the bottle down beside it.

"There are more glasses, just there." She motioned to a cabinet, with the same black lacquer as the table, as she took a seat on the couch. Slipping her stiletto heels off, she tucked her feet beneath her and propped one arm along the top most seam of the furniture, leaning her face into her palm and aiming a secretive smile at him.

"Your turn. Ask me whatever you'd like to know and I will answer truthfully."

[Elias]

She moved with the comfort of an individual in their second home, securing everything she needed that making herself comfortable and showing him just where they would continue their conversation. Per her suggestion, he strayed to retrieve a glass from the location she remarked, then moved back to join her at the couch. He sat himself but stayed leaning forward to pour a small bit of the wine into his own glass. He sipped briefly from it, then left it in place atop the table just before the couch.

He didn’t get so comfortable as to remove his shoes, but with her place beside him he did turn his torso to set his right side into the cushions. His leg was brought up to rest his ankle atop the opposite knee, with that same leg’s knee resting on the cushions. His wine glass remained out of reach briefly in favor of the conversation and the open invitation provided to him. “You work for someone; I think everyone does. Rarely do you see the person at the top handling things themselves. I want you to tell me a little bit of who you work for. Best to know who’s tempting me to get into bed with them.” The firmly stoic expression on his Chiss features easily suggested the statement was an analogy, not meant to be taken so literally, but he was curious if she could be flustered. “We should probably also introduce ourselves. I am Xare’lia’sabosen, or in core standards, Elias.”

[Veresmya Altairus]

She observed him silently as he moved about the cabin, fetching himself a glass and then making his way to her at the couch. He did not immediately speak, choosing to make himself comfortable after pouring himself a glass of wine. She leaned forward and snagged her own glass by the stem, lifting it to her lips and drinking deeply. His inquiries were what she might have anticipated and she contemplated for only a few moments how to introduce her organization. How exactly did one describe a group of devoted individuals who had recently reanimated a pantheon of ancient Sith for the one purpose of aligning the galaxy under their rule? It sounded like a cult when she ran through it in her head and in some ways, it probably was.

"My name is Veresmya Altairus and I work for an intelligence gathering organization called The Collective. It, in turn, was founded thousands of years ago when a very different Empire reigned over the galaxy. I'm sure even the Chiss have some experience with the Force, correct?" Whether he confirmed this or not, she moved right along.

"Things were quite different back then. Your worth as an individual was not determined solely by the amount of credits lining your pockets or what family you came from. It was weighed by your accomplishments. Valor, cunning, dedication, wisdom; every individual, no matter their origin, was granted the opportunity to prove their prowess in a variety of fields. The leaders of this sovereignty were looked upon as deities, their power was so great, and they sought to unify the galaxy under the ideals of each exemplar's realm of expertise."

She took another sip of wine, having not intended to reveal quite as much as she had about the Ancient Ones' former structure. Still, there was enough to ponder that did not dismiss the mystery he so craved. One question would lead to twenty more and she was very much looking forward to see what answers he'd prioritize receiving over others.

[Elias]

Elias intended to hold a stoicism to his features for the duration of her monologue, but just as she was worried about the portrayal of her organization as a cult, that was exactly the initial impressions he received. It prompted a raised brow but he kept himself silent, with only a nod of his head in acknowledgment of the Force, as she explained. His eyes searched her features, looking for apprehension in her delivery of the news. Any piece of information which might cast doubt on her confidence. He wasn’t certain if he wanted her to have doubt, because any reasonable non-zealot would, or if he wanted her to reflect an unflinching belief to convince him.

“Well, that is certainly different than anything else anyone has to offer.” He mulled her words over a moment, wondering just where to start. There was also the practical part of him that told him to excuse himself, but a deeper part that pushed him to be open minded, unlike the rest of his people. “All of these leaders are Force Users? Or…were Force Users? Who leads them now?” He realized that the group had existed in some fashion for generations upon generations, and such time was prone to change.

“Are you so certain the ideals of thousands of years ago, or the ones that persist today? That this group maintains the same vision, and it hasn’t been perverted by modern times?” Such was the way with many causes, and businesses, after all. “And if they are all Force Users, does that mean that my ceiling of potential ends always just beneath the current leaders? Or is there a means to push to be a non-Force User that is their equal? I tend to find those with power, are loathe to share it.”

[Veresmya Altairus]

If the unbidden force within her, that oftentimes rose to the fore in times such as these, detected any doubts within him, it did not make itself known to her. The stoic expression he wore and the knowledge that this man came from a long line of practical thinkers worried her; but, not a trace of doubt or flagging confidence could be witnessed within Veresmya's stalwart front. More questions would come with time and she merely waited, still interested to see which would present themselves as being the most pressing. Naturally, his first question revolved around the leadership of their group...

"The Ancient Ones, the founding leadership of our group, have been resurrected and shall resume command of their various fields of expertise." She answered concisely, uncertain if this would raise more questions or if he'd simply accept her answer for all the mystically happenstance that revolved around it. She had more answers to offer, regardless. "Their reign was long and lead to one of the most successful empires the galaxy has ever seen. There would be only one reason to change the formula for that success. They are powerful entities, to be sure, but their only shortcomings related to lack of naval prowess in a rapidly expanding galaxy and relying solely upon the Force to provide prophecies to predict enemy intent. The Collective was established to combat one such shortcoming. The individual I seek shall be one piece to correcting the other."

Another sip of wine was taken and then she set the glass down on the table, angling her body toward him. "They did not rise to their status simply because of their Force acuity, though I suspect that gives them an edge on the battlefield. There are those that bolstered the structure of our organization in the past without such capabilities who rose to prominence, as well. Those who were not able to be brought back with their sensitivity to the Force. It is all very complicated when explained this way. I am not asking you to commit solely based on my words. What I would like... is to show you. I can bring you to them and you can see for yourself what it is we offer for what we ask in return."

[Elias]

There was no helping the twitch of his brow as Veresmya mentioned they had been resurrected. In spite of the mysteries of the Force, dead was dead to him. It did adequately answer his questions on whether the vision would remain the same, and he was surprised to find that a pleasing answer, even for the absurdity of it. Where doubt lingered was when she mentioned that they had led one of the most successful Empires, and yet he was not privy to such knowledge. True, the Chiss had spent many generations in isolation, but he more assumed it was a matter of the victors writing the history of the galaxy.

“You pose the interesting point that the Galaxy they ruled, is not the same galaxy as today. I wonder if their methods will be antiquated or fit well into the current period. I as well wonder how they will adapt, if they find their ways antiquated.” All in all, he actually found himself curious to study the development of this group, and a deeper part of him nagged at him to see how far down the gundark hole this would all go.

“So, I go with you. If I decide it is not the proper fit for me, what happens? I am eliminated? Have I already sealed a fate just by being informed of all of this?” His lips maintained a tight line, playing his emotions as close to the chest as he could muster for the moment. “I will see for myself, very well.” Though, the skeptic within him wondered just what he could see that would make this all real to him, and something were involving himself in.