Hunter's Harp (PM for Invite)

[Neology]

Darth Novus sipped from a mug of warm tea and pulled the fur mantle tighter around her narrow shoulders. The bay window in her purloined chambers offered an excellent view, if anything on this frozen planet could be called such. Skeletal trees and crumbled stone stretched on forever, as much a wasteland as the harsh sands of Korriban.

Somewhere out there, in those ruins of such a shape that they had hurt her eyes to look upon them, she had met a specter of her past life. Trinsik Revere, Jedi Knight and once her dearest friend. She had let him go, when duty might have called for something else.

”The Council said you had perished – though your body was never found. … I searched for you.”

The memory sent a shiver down her spine that had very little to do with the cold. Two years. It felt like a lifetime. She vented a sigh, warm breath fogging the glass.

Motion drew her eye. Imperial supply shuttle, half an hour late. It touched down, disgorging soldiers and crates of goods from it's belly. Everything a growing outpost needed and more, sustained by the will of the Empire. Without regular deliveries, even this grand citadel of Iniquitous's new Sith would wither and die. The evidence was all around, in the crumbled ruins of previous settlements.

A voice at the door pulled Novus from her thoughts. “My Lady. They need you downstairs. To sign for everything.”

“Oh. Yes, of course. I'll be right down.” She dismissed the attendant with a vague gesture of one hand and slid to her feet. For once, for this planet, she found the elaborate robes of the order quite acceptable, though she supplemented the attire with an outer layer trimmed in thick Nexu fur.

A few moments of wandering led her to the main hall. The double doors had been propped open, admitting the stream of young men and women and their various burdens. Mr. Feskin, one of the citadel's few permanent residents, appeared to be directing traffic. He stood up straighter when he spotted her, his rough features composing themselves into a grotesque facsimile of a smile.

“Darth Novus, ma'am, ah …” He searched the line of soldiers and grunted something impolite under his breath. “I'm real sorry, ma'am. One of 'em had a datapad for you, I'm sure he'll be right back.”

[Faeruy]

Llokin stepped off the shuttle, breathing in the bracing air of Ziost. For the Chiss, it was a welcome change from the oppressive heat of Korriban. The ice made almost feel at home; dilapidated ruins notwithstanding.

The Chiss could make this planet home.

He stood a moment and considered the ants scurrying around him. Various aliens moving crates, and one of the most disorganized group of soldiers he'd ever seen. He wondered how humans managed to take over so much of the galaxy. The Chiss could do it better, if only they weren't so cautious and timid and conservative in their approach to the galaxy at large. The people around him couldn't even handle the cold. They were bundled up against the chill, like little round furry creatures. Llokin wore only his black, military-style uniform. He stood out, and for once it wasn't just because of the blue of his skin.

Even in his short time at the Sith Temple, Llokin had heard much, including talk of Darth Novus. The more he heard about her, the more Llokin thought she could help him. There were still too many questions in his search for justice, and she seemed like the kind of person who could find the answers. It was part of the reason he wanted to join the Sith in the first place. He was aware that nothing came for free, however, but he was prepared for that as well.

He moved through the crowds easily; most parted their way at the sight of the imposing blue man. He walked straight to the front doors, not paying attention to the people surrounding him, but he seemed to be concentrating nonetheless. His mind was focused on the other Dark presence; and who could it be if not for the woman he was searching for?

Then there she was; in front of him; pale as the ice itself, and dressed finer than anyone else in the room. She was talking to a nervous mouse of a man who seemed overawed in the presence of such power. After listening to just a few moments of his inane obsequiesceness, Llokin had enough and stepped forward.

"My Lady Novus." He inclined his head slightly as a gesture of respect. "I am Frell'oki'nashandu, Initiate to the Sith Order. I apologize for the interruption, but I was hoping to get a chance to speak with you." He surveyed the room with his glowering red eyes. "If now is a bad time, I am willing to wait until you have a moment free."

[Moonfire]

Richter Kast was rarely much of anything. Infact, if there was one thing Richter almost prided himself on, it was his ability to fade quite easily into the background and under the radar. He was neat, managed to pay his bills on time and in full and, generally, was quite punctual.

'Cept now, of course.

Richter Kast was actually quite delayed with some sort of shipment to some sort of Lord or Lady on Ziost from some horrible crawling part of the galaxy, and it, the crates that is, were probably filled with something equally unpleasant. And crawling. Most definitely crawling from the awkward, shuffling noises the containers had made when they reached the Imperial Space Station he'd picked them up from to escort this final leg of the journey to the new Imperial Citadel, capital or what have you. Those particular crates were rather unnerving, yet terribly thrilling besides the much more uninteresting supplies and rations.

It was strange, doing this sort of work. So used to sitting in the swiveling gunner-seat of a starfighter and trying desperately to blow up whatever was currently trying to kill him and his partner Lt. Farmer. But instead of being sent, rather last minute to organize some other grunts, much like himself, to help escort and unload a half-forgotten shipment to some frigid world.

"At least it isn't Korriban." Richter reminded himself with a goodnatured chuckle, helping a group of lads to lift a particularly annoying crate onto the hover-pad to easily lift up and out of the cargo bay.

Stepping out, Richter adjusted his simple Petty Officer's uniform and smoothed out the wrinkles before looking back to the datapads in hand, one for his personal use and the other to be given to the person accepting the shipment.

A glance across the steady glowing screen. Lady Novus. A Darth.

Spooky.

A small smile tugged at the edges of the soldier's lips before looking back towards the one, Mr. Freskin he'd spoken with shortly after landing, now engaged in conversation with a beautiful, blonde fur-coated woman and a tall, rather imposing Chiss.

With one more smoothing of his uniform and straightening of his cap the gangly young man stepped forward, attempting to look as professional and perhaps even commanding as possible.

"Pardon, M'am, Sirs. Petty Officer Richter Kast. Are you Lady Novus? I have some datapads from Lord Eurachis to come along with the shipment." He tilted his head to each in turn.

[Neology]

Novus turned at the sound of her name, lips compressing into a tight line, brows lifted in inquiry. By the indifferent look on Mr. Feskin's face, this was not missing soldier with the all-important datapad. Her eyes swept down to check – empty hands - and then back up to meet his eyes, deep red set against blue skin. The man had some very unusual coloring paired with a name unlike any she'd heard before. 'Interesting.' At length, she returned the nod.

“Very well. We may speak in my office momentarily.”

The words were barely out of her mouth when another man approached, a smiling young officer laden down with an armful of datapads.

“I am indeed.” Novus accepted one off the top, blue eyes scanning down the invoice “'Alchemical Divergence In the Korriban Desert Scorpion, Series 8.' Live specimens. Wonderful. Make sure those crates make it down to the laboratory, Mr. Feskin.”

“Should I have the boys start unpacking them, ma'am?”

“Oh, by no means. I've half a mind to have the things cast in duracrete and dropped into the ocean.” She glanced back to her pair of expectant guests. “Well, Petty Officer Kast, we are expecting an ice storm this evening. I recommend you delay your scheduled departure until it passes. Your men are welcome to the Citadel's hospitality for the duration, of course.” Despite the offer, she expected most of the enlisted men would elect to sleep in their ship.

“Actually, I want to go over these with you. Would both of you come with me?” She started back up the stairs without missing a beat, leading the pair back to her borrowed office. The room exhibited a bland sort of unpersonalized opulence, passed as it was between the attendant lords and ladies. As the only Darth in residence, it's use had lately passed to Novus. She crossed over to the desk, footsteps muffled to nothing by the thick carpet, and sunk down in her chair. A brush of her fingertips brought the console to life, waking the screen.

“Sit. Speak. I'm listening.”