Spadecraft and Tradecraft

[Meira]

Dromund Kaas was, for lack of a better word, a difficult planet. It rebelled, sometimes with stunning violence, against the offenses of civilization. It was a perfect place to serve as the Sith Capitol. It was the living embodiment of the struggle that all Sith must overcome. Though the humidity was often nearly unbearable, the planet was preferable to Korriban, at least in the eyes of the Empress. Yes, it was hot. And it often felt as if one was drinking the air rather than breathing it. But the heat of Korriban was like a painful sting to her fair skin. The desert planet's sun was unrelenting. And Korriban was, for all purposes, a dead planet. Dromund Kaas was so very much alive that it practically made her skin crawl with energy.

Renata sat back on her heels, pulling dirt covered gloves from her hands and dropping them into the basket at her side. Perspiration dotted her brow and she dabbed at it with a clean rag. Before her, several rows of -now, weed free- tomato plants stood tall and proud, not yet needing the support of their trellises.

"Soon enough." she cooed.

The garden had been one of the first things Renata had installed upon her move to the palace in Kaas City. She'd never been able to maintain more than a few potted plants on Korriban. This garden, however, was sprawling. It was divided into several sections, from a small orchard, water gardens, decorative floral patches, and produce patches like the one in which Renata now worked, all contained under a vast dome of glass to protect the varied plants from the encroaching jungle. Renata had graciously opened the use and enjoyment of the gardens to all of her subjects and had been content to see that many enjoyed the space, and some even endeavored to work in it... to varying degrees of success.

Renata's eyes narrowed as they swept over another small patch of tomatoes. These poor things were stunted and wilting. And no wonder; they were tucked under the shade of taller, leafy plants. Pushing herself to her feet, Renata moved over to them, kneeling down and looking at the small sign stuck into the dirt next to the plants. Karen. With a huff, she reached her hand out, calling her basket toward herself and settled it next to her. Tugging on her gloves and pulling the small spade from the basket, she set to work on moving the plants further out, where the overhanging leaves would not block the sunlight.

"Tomatoes need full sun, Karen." she grumbled to herself as she worked.

[Neology]

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When it came to gardens, Imago had very little practical knowledge on the subject and even fewer useful opinions. They were pretty enough backdrops for all sorts of interesting or sordid things. A green and rather illusory sort of privacy. It was important not to mistake that illusion for the real thing. Imago hoped he would always know how to tell the difference – Knight of Truth sounded rather hollow otherwise. Though this one was easy: any place the Empress frequently visited would be observed. It made getting new orders rather tiresome at times. He’d walked through this garden every morning since returning to Kaas City so that one interaction might look convincingly incidental. Alas, it was hot and muggy most days and he’d sweat through some very fine clothes until he’d learned to dress down. Today he wore trim black slacks with green piping down the sides and a loose green shirt, collar unbuttoned and sleeves rolled up almost to his elbows. She was here today, though. Imago could sense that much, though he refrained from any further examination. No need to put the idea of a return look into a more powerful telepath’s head. ”Your Radiance.” Imago stopped at a polite distance and sketched a quick bow. The plants the Empress was tending were unfamiliar to him, rather pale and shrunken, with each inside a wire trellis. She seemed to be … Digging them up? That seemed sound – since they were clearly unhealthy – but a little disappointing just the same. He would have liked to imagine a fairytale nightmare worthy of a Dark Empress, all bloody beating hearts and live snakes. ”May your humble servant be of any assistance?”

[Meira]

Aside from the taller, leafy plants positioned at the back of this particular plot, the space around Karen's stupidity patch was mostly clear. It seemed others did not want Karen's incompetence to infect their own hard work. So there was plenty of room to move the mistreated tomatoes forward and into the sunlight. She was gingerly filling in the dirt over the roots of the third plant when she felt an almost imperceptible tickle at the edges of her awareness. Usually, such a sensation would go unnoticed. Kaas City was full of Sith who were always putting out little feelers to get a read on those around them. In her chambers high up in the palace, she could tune out the static of their ethereal measuring contests. But today, she was down in the thick of things, and she had arranged to meet with someone. She was waiting for that careful grazing. She felt it once, and then not at all again. She smiled. A cautious soul? It was a good thing.

”Your Radiance.”

A smooth voice, steady and confident. Formal, but comfortable all the same.

”May your humble servant be of any assistance?”

"The hose, please." Renata said, gesturing over her shoulder to her right where a water hose was curled in loops on a stand near a spigot. She stood, brushing the dirt from the long apron she wore over her simple green dress. She turned, looking at this man now for the first time. Her electric blue eyes moved over him quickly, making those initial judgments one could make from sight alone. Well dressed, comfortable in finery, but dressed down surely, for this environment. Very well groomed, meticulous even, with just the right dash of scruff. He was, for lack of a better word, beautiful. And he knew it.

"Just a splash for each." she added, gesturing to the line of tomatoes she'd finished replanting. "They'll need to be nursed back slowly."

Allowing him time to comply, Renata repacked her gloves and gardening tools into the basket she'd brought and then settled herself onto a nearby bench. She watched the younger man until he had finished before speaking again. It had taken some time to narrow down her selection. She'd had to be careful, and therefore slow, in her process. She could not involve any of the Inner Sanctum in her decision. They would no doubt attempt to influence her choice, ensuring that whoever she picked was in their own pocket first. And, considering her needs, she would likely choose someone from the Cult of Truth. If Solis had a chance to be part of that decision... There were many paths that lead to her downfall. Renata could see most, she believed, in her meditations. Ones that involved her dear former apprentice were always clearer than the others. More of a threat, but also easier to see and avoid.

"Imago." she said when he'd finished, as if testing the feel of the name on her tongue. "Our chosen names reveal an inner truth." she continued. "You have chosen to share an evocative truth." she smiled, patting the empty space on the bench next to her. "Tell me, Imago, are you content within your Cult? With your assignments?"

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

Imago fetched the hose as asked, though in no particular haste. He knew he was being watched and stole a few glances in turn. Why not? This was as close to the Empress as he had ever been – perhaps as close as he ever would be. Certainly the only time he’d ever been alone with her. ‘Radiance’ was a misleading title, she did not glow either literally or figuratively. But there was something else there, flinty and iron-tasting on the air, that seemed somehow befitting. A moment, a spark from flame. This woman had burned a path to Coruscant, presided over all the bloodiest parts of the war. What could she possibly want with him? ”As you like.” Burying his questions, Imago turned the whole of his attention to the simple task. Whatever this was about, he knew he didn’t want to fuck it up. Finished, he put a kink in the hose and carried it back, shutting the water off by hand when telekinesis might have saved the trip. Job done, he stood and waited, half-expecting dismissal. Strange or pointless assignments had not been unknown to him, under Lady Batriu’s teachings. It had been difficult to tell what was wanted, at times: subservience or arrogance. His back stiffened as the Empress commented on his name, deflections already on the tip of his tongue. ’I just like the way it sounds.’ ‘It’s easy to spell. The fewer letters, the better.’ She beckoned him closer. Imago scratched the back of his head and took a reluctant seat. ”They are … Tolerable, for now, of course.” This all seemed rather irregular for some kind of loyalty test. He tried to imagine Darth Solis hiding in the bushes and found that vision quite unassuring. ”I wouldn’t say content, though. We must always aspire to do more for the Empire, your Radiance.”

[Meira]

Her eyes did not leave him as he sat. They moved along the lines of his frame, studying, memorizing. She wanted to know, intuitively, the feel of him in the space around her. To know his presence. Renata had made a practice of this with many of her subjects. The Darths, of course, were as well known to her as any. Many aristocrats and planetary governors, corporate heads, and ministers were also subject to this intensive study. If eyesight were to ever fail, Renata would know who had wielded the knife or palmed the poison. Even as she crossed her legs at her ankles and settled her hands lightly in her lap, the Empress was preparing for the eventuality that Imago would be the one.

"That is an excellent answer from a Knight of Truth." she said, her thin lips curling into the slightest of smiles. "To rest is to decay. And we must always be striving to grow." Her eyes darted back to the rescued line of tomatoes and her thoughts flashed hot for a moment on the perpetrator of their near demise. She made a note to deal with that particular weed later and turned her attention back to the beautiful young man seated beside her.


"To that end, I will not waste your time or my own. I am in need your service, Imago. And of your discretion." Her eyes settled on his, her brow furrowing slightly to impart the serious nature of her words. "No other will do. And I can give you my word as the Pristine Heart of the Four Cults that your efforts will be rewarded beyond measure." Renata shifted her position slightly, bringing her knees closer toward Imago, so that she faced him more squarely. "Know also, that failure will not be acceptable. Your pledge to me, should you make it, will mean your life. One way, or another."

Renata allowed those words to settle with the man for a few moments. In that momentary pause, the Minister of Planetary Sanitation came strolling into view. At his side, arm snaked with his, walked his mistress of the week. Right on time. Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes at the practically scandalous outfit the twi'lek woman wore, Renata adjusted her position again and moved her knees back away from Imago to a more respectable distance just as the minister's gaze fell upon them. He was, to his credit, excellent at his job. But this particular Minister was also known for being an insatiable gossip.

"Melodramatics aside," she said, her form and features much more aloof and her voice lower now as the Minister and his mistress strolled not far away, "what I offer to you is a choice. I will not have you unwillingly. Tell me now, and be true. Are you at my service?"