Throne Room

Aderon carefully watched Mariah, attempting to pick out more details on her face. Another smile seemed to flash across her features for a brief instant, before being swallowed again by the same unsettling gaze that she had fixed upon Aderon for the duration of their conversation. It was likely that this wasn’t the sort of challenge she would have normally given, as by now he had established well the fact that the crimson-haired Empress preferred far more direct methods to test the mettle of an individual, when she needed to. Perhaps that would be a future challenge she would impart upon him, when she felt the time had come for that to be tested as well. He would be ready for her, for as sure as he was honing his skills with his current craft, the arts of manipulation, deception, political engineering, he would further his skill in combat, and he would anticipate the day the next challenge would come. For now, though, there seemed to be another task, and one that was far more suited to what he was best at.

There was a spy in their midst.

Spycraft and betrayal were not new to Aderon; on the contrary, they were quite close subjects to him. Perhaps too close. It was, after all, by way of the betrayal of the Harch known as Krennel Gulch that he found himself onboard the Munificent Cruiser, the Expansionist. How he met Ifrit, and, indeed, how he had ended up in this room right now, discussing the very topic with Empress Shadows. It was ironically fitting, in a way. The Force certainly had an interesting way of going about things, and often times brought events into full circle in order to teach an individual a lesson. Perhaps this was the Force acting to try and teach the young Count a lesson, perhaps it was just a coincidence. However, knowing the Force, Aderon suspected it would likely be the former rather than the latter. After all, it certainly had a way of haunting you for your past mistakes.

But, to a point, all that was irrelevant. After all, it really didn’t matter what had granted him this opportunity, for now it had appeared. A chance to redeem himself in this field. To prove, once and for all, that he would not be betrayed again, in all his life. After all, he had made this mistake once, but never again. If he was a weaker individual, Mariah might have been able to pierce his mind to sense these thoughts. But not him.

“A spy, you say? How interesting that he managed to evade being caught all this time. And to infiltrate a faction so young... to what end?”

He paused for a moment, musing over his words, considering what to say. It only took him a moment, however.

“To defeat an enemy, you must know them. Their motivations, what drives them to do what they do, and this is not more true than in the business of spycraft.”

Motivation was everything. With someone’s motivations, you could figure out how to turn them from a liability to an asset. To turn someone from an enemy, into an ally. Mariah’s motivations, even, were something of a mystery to him. A mystery he intended to eventually dissect, and ascertain himself of. On the surface, her motivations seemed simple enough. To ensure the survival of the Dark Jedi Order. But he had been lied to before, and it had cost him everything. Rather than allowing it again, he would instead seek out the motivations of every individual he chose to deal with. This was, after all, the great conundrum of spycraft. To know when to talk, and to know when to kill. After all, a spy exposed is one of the most useful assets imaginable, second only to a double agent. To turn what an enemy believes to be their ultimate weapon, into the engineer of their own destruction. To allow them to construct their own downfall. Poetic, in a way. And of great use to whichever faction discovers the agent first. After all, in a war, intelligence is everything, and almost all battles are decided before a faction even spots their opponent. As he continued to observe Mariah’s features, he was still trying to gather intelligence, to, in a manner of speaking, feel her out. For as sure as he would like to trust the woman standing before him, implicit trust had not gotten him anything in the past but betrayal, hence this analysis.

However, his heart briefly skipped a beat when Empress Shadows called him “Count Dooku”. While it was technically his title and last name, there was more to it than that. The name Count Dooku represented a man who had been dead for many years at this point. A legend among the galaxy’s political figures and Force Users alike. A year ago, Aderon would have been horrified to be compared to the Count by Mariah, even if it was an unintentional occurrence, having shunned his legacy. But now, he was met with a mixture of pride and awe. While he was certainly proud to be compared to such a great man, questions floated at the back of his head. Questions surrounding if he could live up to the legacy left behind by Darth Tyrannus. After all, the man reached a lofty position indeed, only being defeated, ironically, by the treachery of an ally. Not unlike what had happened to Aderon.

After a few seconds of these pontifications, he nodded to Mariah.

“Very well. I accept your task,”

Aderon considered for a few moments. It was very likely that her appraisal of the situation, if not completely true, did hold at least some truth to it. Younger recruits were much easier to sneak into fortresses like this, as one bad egg among a few dozen, or even hundred, would have a lesser likelihood of being subjected to scrutiny as, say, someone a recruit joining with some degree of talent. It was a fairly standard tactic as far as subversion went; but one that was no less effective no matter how much time went by. Indeed, as he reached out with the Force, he could certainly sense that something was afoot within the walls of the temple. Something that did not belong among the Force Users that continued to arrive even now. The entire temple was, to be fair, heavily saturated with the Dark Side of the Force. But this presence be felt was different. Normally, to him at least, the Force parted ways, allowing him to see into the motivations of all but the very strongest minds. Serving as a gateway to many things that may have remained unseen otherwise. But now... right now he felt something different. A section he could not see through.There was certainly a veil concealing this matter, shrouding it in the Force. He could even sense it in this passive state, standing in the throne room. By briefly concentrating, a hazy cloud was revealed around the presence of the new recruits. Breaking through such a veil would likely prove difficult even for Aderon.

However, difficult was not the same as impossible, and he was confident in his ability to unmask this bad seed. His abilities had developed far beyond what they had been during the foundation of the ill-fated Confederacy, and whoever the spy was was clearly not skilled enough to use Diminish to hide their presence entirely, instead focusing on hiding their identity over hiding their intentions. Thereby, it would likely not be as difficult for Dooku to unmask the traitor, and unmask the traitor he would. It would be a bad reflection on both himself and his House if he did not. While Dooku always had some degree of respect for his more skilled opponents, the unskilled novices were beneath notice, as far as he was concerned, and this was certainly an amateurish attempt at infiltration, if nothing else, and, as they were dealing with one who did not fully understand the subtleties the Dark aside afforded them, likely had the skills of an apprentice, or, at a push, of a low-level knight.

All of which made his life that much easier.

“I’m inclined to agree. Someone who attempted to infiltrate at a higher level would likely either be too obvious a target, or would prove far more elusive then our spy has been. And considering our spy has allowed themselves to be revealed this soon in their operations makes me inclined to believe the latter is the case. Whoever our spy is, they clearly have an... at best limited understanding of the power afforded to them, and more importantly, a lack of understanding on how to use that power for their own goals. That is something that leaves them... severely hampered in their efforts.”

Ultimately, despite their cooperation on this matter, the unseen, unheard duel of speaking continued, with Mariah now reining in her emotions, a stoic expression crossing her face. He turned away briefly from the presence of the mysterious infiltrator and back on Mariah, not wanting to let this conversation pass by without a final glimpse into, if nothing else, her general emotions. One could learn quite a bit from the way someone felt about a situation, and, as this was more or less their first impression, it would be prudent to establish some sort of standard for how behavior would be judged, especially if he planned to ascend in the ranks of the Dark Jedi Order, which, indeed, he did strive to do.

However, he did not attempt to feel her emotions as he would, say, during an interrogation. Rather then using some level of overwhelming force, attempting to annihilate the resistance that her mind had to offer, it was more of a passive, unseen hand, grasping at those small whiffs of emotion she let out into the Force. After all, short of cutting oneself off entirely, there was really no way to prevent these sort of passive emissions, and such passive emissions could prove useful.

Especially if the other person was unaware that you were looking for them.

“Very well, Empress. I accept your task.”

“Keep an eye on him.”

Mariah kept her pace, not even looking back at the woman who accompanied her. It was a simple enough answer to Eris’ question as to what more she could do for the Empress. Knowing anything about the crimson-haired woman’s past made it an easy enough command to follow without question. The Count had yet to prove himself to her, and although she doubted that he was the source of this particular disturbance, it wouldn’t pardon him from the critical skepticism Mariah had over new arrivals in general.

“If you’ve retrieved all the information you need on my performance, though, then you are free to go and leave me to my solitude. Until next time, Lady Eris.”

It was only then that Mariah paused briefly to turn a stare towards Eris. After a simple nod of her head in dismissal, the smaller woman returned to her usual pace, heading in that ever-familiar direction that would lead her towards her chambers.

The desert wasteland stretched out in all directions, leaving a barren landscape hardly worthy of anyone’s attention. However, Mariah had traversed it frequently, finding that the nothingness of the land soothing in its own right. There were days where she was able to bring back something notable, such as a certain crash survivor. Other times, it simply allowed her the chance to create a mental map, one which she could mark out and share with the Fallen and Void Knights, on the off chance that someone dared come to claim this land that they had already marked as their own.

When it was all said and done, though, Mariah’s entrance to the Temple hardly ever consisted of a typical one. The hangar or front entrance led to eyes finding and following her. The rumors of an Empress even existing were founded in the fact that few had ever laid eyes on her. Her coming and goes from the Temple only supported that lack of knowledge from the Dark Jedi acolytes.

Mariah scaled the side of the Temple with a precision of Force Jump and her knowledge in the Art of Movement. It was a feat not for the faint at heart, so the risk of a multitude of intruders managing it was hardly likely. From one floor to the next, Mariah’s life hung in each grasp she could manage as she pulled herself up and leaped from ledge to ledge. The reward? A chance to end her daily excursion with a few moments of peaceful meditation. With the canyon visible over the horizon, the edge of the vergence’s energies could still be felt radiating to the Temple. However, as Mariah climbed closer to the roof, there was something that disturbed the usual emptiness of the ziggurat’s peak.

Another presence.

Mariah growled lowly, but casting a downward glance, she had come too far now to turn back. Besides, one presence was far better than the hundreds. At least, that was what she thought, until she broke to the surface with a final leap, landing effortlessly at the edge of the roof as though she had done it a thousand times.

Another red-haired woman. A familiar presence. A familiar face. One from long ago, but one branded in her memory. Mariah would have rathered turned back to face the hundreds than to deal with this one. It was far too late now, and Mariah wasn't exactly the type to turn and run the moment a minor inconvenience was placed in front of her.

Mariah leaped down from the railing and purposefully let her feet hit the stone with a full force clattering to disrupt whatever meditation Luxeria had attempted. Mariah rose an eyebrow questioningly at her presence here. She had been made aware of Luxeria’s presence in the Temple, although she had hoped to avoid the Sith during the duration of her stay. She had even voiced that her preference that Luxeria was not to be open to roam the Temple. Yet here she was.

“Finding yourself at home?” Mariah murmured, her otherwise welcoming words laced with poisonous, judgemental tones. Crossing her arms over her chest as she cocked her head questioningly to the side, the smaller woman continued, “The room we set aside for you is a better place for any free time you'll have during your stay here.”

Shooing a Sith back to her cage was not what Mariah had in mind for fun at this moment in time. Seeing as the other leaders of the Dark Jedi hadn’t a care about it, if she wanted a job done right, it seemed she would have to do it herself.

Luxeria may have felt hatred, despising Mariah for her chosen words, attitude, and even her beauty for only the Whills knew why. However, Mariah harbored none such ill feelings for the young Sith woman. To allow such feelings to course through her over one such as her, it was a waste of her energy. To Mariah, Luxeria was still a child, one with more painful lessons still to come. The Sith may have recognized her as one of their elite, but to the Dark Jedi, she was nothing. An ally at best. Still, the memories of their run-in left Mariah more than displeased of her presence here within the Temple, and so long as Luxeria kept herself, there wouldn’t have been an issue.

Hatred, though, was a powerful tool, and one Luxeria revealed perhaps a bit too early. Attempting to match Mariah’s venomous tones was a dangerous game to play. In a way, though, Mariah thought it was adorable how she attempted to meet her at her own game, while unbeknownst to her, Mariah had walked through the darkest criminal sectors of the galaxy for longer than she had been alive. A sharp weapon and a sharper tongue were a woman’s best friends in that past life, and nerves of beskar were better than any armor riches could buy.

Matching Luxeria’s smirk with a wicked half-smile of her own, Mariah approached the woman, crimson orbs looking down at her with a shimmer of disdain. “I’m sure you bother enough academy boys in the hallway that it would be lost on you, even if it did,” Mariah quipped back, crossing her arms over her chest as she cocked her head to the side. “That said, it seems you’re under the impression I was asking. Let me clarify.” That dark smile of hers soon faded, replaced by a more stern look that spoke of a hidden warning. “It’s not a suggestion.”

Her gaze still locked on Luxeria, Mariah arched an eyebrow as she waited for the girl to move. Mariah had been around long enough to know that those who had any sort of fight in them like Luxeria did wouldn’t just keel over and listen so easily. It didn’t matter if she was addressing Mariah as the Empress or just another acolyte among the Dark Jedi. Either way, Mariah could only hope that Luxeria wasn’t as stupid as she presenting herself to be right now, choosing to go head-to-head with the Empress of the Dark Jedi. While Mariah would revel in shattering the falsehood of this treaty between the Sith and Dark Jedi, she didn’t exactly have the desire to do so through such an insignificant means through harming an “ally” she viewed as such an insignificant person.

Where Luxeria battled with her growing anger and hatred towards the crimson-haired woman, Mariah continued to hold herself with an eerie grace and apathy towards this rebellious Sith. Even as she pulled out what she believed to be her trump card -- the fact that Ifrit, the Fallen had granted her passage -- Mariah didn’t seem all that surprised. Mariah had already experienced a few… lingering issues regarding his decision-making process. Starting with naming her as Empress, leading into welcoming a spy into their midst, and now giving a Sith free-roam through their Temple while tensions were still high between the two factions -- Ifrit had a track record that made this newest revelation unsurprising.

What was surprising was the emphasis Luxeria wanted to place on it. As though that precious answer was all she needed. Her make-believe skeleton key. One man’s word was all it took. Mariah sighed heavily, a sound that she made sure carried through the arid air to meet Luxeria’s senses.

“Tsk tsk tsk…” she reprimanded with an ominous calm about her.

The sound of another footfall hit the flat-topped roof of the ziggurat-structure and with it, Mariah tightened the Force around Luxeria’s neck. With each step approaching the young Sith, her hold on Luxeria tightened, until she had adequately cut off the passage of air to her lungs. By that point, she stood toe-to-toe with this troublesome Sith. Mariah wore neither a smile nor a scowl, but those crimson eyes pierced into hers with a level that could take someone’s breath away -- that is, if Mariah hadn’t forcibly done so already.

“You misunderstand the hierarchy around here, child,” she murmured. “The Fallen may stand in the public eye as the leader of the Dark Jedi, but when you’re here within my Temple, you’ll abide by my word and my rule. A lesson even Ifrit knows far too well." Mariah let that statement hang in the air for a beat, allowing its meaning to fully resonate and shatter that statement she clung to, before continuing. "If you have a problem with this, you have two options. You have your ship in the hangar that you’re welcome to take back to your miserable little planet to leave ours in peace. Else, I can ensure that you suffer in the deepest levels of Chaos. Understood?”

Once Mariah’s warning came as clear as she could possibly make it, she released her hold on Luxeria, allowing that precious dry, thin air to fill her lungs again. Killing Luxeria at present was far from the goal. Wasting that kind of energy to ensnare her so was also a bit beneath Mariah. However, she needed to ensure that Luxeria understood the strength, power, and resilience of the beast she was up against. The decision was then up to her, which path she would take. Mariah would honor whichever that path would be, whether her choice was to heed her warning or continue to stray down the path that would lead to her demise.

Mariah wasn’t a fool to how wars in this galaxy started, and typically, this was exactly the first piece to fall. One would walk onto grounds that were not theirs, assuming power that they didn’t have. They would refuse the multiple offers to leave in peace or to die where they stood, and when their sad little life was taken for their idiocy, the rest of their kind would assume some lost fight of misplaced nobility to avenge their rightful death. Generations would pass, and no one would know who was right and who was wrong. When Mariah had stated that final warning, she had every intention of following through. The more that Luxeria talked instead of walked, the more nails she put in her coffin, sealing her burial.

Luxeria was lucky that she was wrong on all of her assumptions and that she was too small a trophy for the aftermath of what would come.

Mariah’s lips twitched back into that glaring, wicked smile, one that rightfully lived up to such a colorful title. It was amusing to the older, although smaller red-haired darksider, to call her a bitch like it was a bad thing. Children would see it as such, but those who had even an ounce of power would understand. However, instead of adding more fuel to the fire to irritate her momentary, unwanted companion, Mariah let the smile flicker and dissipate from her expression as she stepped forward, brushing past this self-proclaimed goddess to look over the whole of the canyon that spread over the horizon.

“I want you to try to understand a few things before you leave, Luxeria,” Mariah murmured, further reinforcing that she would, in fact, leave, and promptly. “You clearly know nothing of me or the bonds which I’ve formed here. What the Fallen and I share is not a puppeteer with her plaything. It is an understanding that we would -- and have put our lives on the line to protect the other, and what we have chosen to build together. Something you, a small pup living in the shadows of the Sith, would never truly understand.”

Although Mariah made no additional advancements to attack, she had poised herself in a valuable position if this Sith woman refused again to leave. Luxeria had already attempted to play into something near and dear to Mariah’s heart, something that came far and few between. However, that source of ‘weakness’ as Mariah viewed it was something she refused to share, and her face remained as stoic as the moment before. If Luxeria thought she was the first to have preyed into Mariah’s past with such petty tosses in the dark, she had another thing coming. There was a quiet ‘clink’, a rattle of metal, as Mariah discreetly removed her saber from her belt. With a reverse grip, her thumb over the ignition, Mariah poised the blade to, upon ignition, pierce upwards from the lower rib, through the heart, and out the shoulder. However, she held her hand steady and her attention locked, so that even the smallest and most sudden of movements from Luxeria would be caught and acted upon.

“One other thing. A Sith would have already killed an insolent child like you by now,” Mariah corrected, her voice a quiet, rumbling snarl. “You strike me as a spoiled rotten one who was never disciplined and always got her way, so I'm giving you one final chance to wise up before I leave you with a lesson you'll never recover from. Leave. Now.”