Star Wars: Swords of the Force

[Armphid]

OCC: Closed for Hookerboots and myself.

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

STAR WARS: SWORDS OF THE FORCE

14 years after the fall of the Galactic Empire and the formation of the New Republic, the galaxy is more or less at peace. The Imperial Remnant still asserts that it is the rightful government but there are no currently open hostilities and the Republic still opens it's arms to the thousands to systems that remain independent following the Empire's collapse.

Filgaia, a powerful and highly skilled industrial planet with a great deal of natural resources, is considering joining the New Republic. Diplomats from the Republic, the Imperial Remnant, and other governments have flocked to the planet to influence Guildmaster Phacia in making her decision. As the Guildmaster's request, Jedi Master Jahara Shahazdra has been sent to act as a mediator in all negotiations.

In addition to Master Shahazdra, another Jedi is sent. A young knight is undercover as a delegate, in order to make sure that no harm befalls Guildmaster Phacia or Master Shahazdra, and that no dark forces try to influence the outcome of the negotiations.

Unknown to all, a dark force has taken notice. There is a new Jedi Order, and their shadow has returned as well. A new Sith Order has taken root, much like the Jedi, discarding and reinventing their traditions. They too have an interest in what happens on Filgaia, and they too have an agent inside...

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OCC: Profile

Name: Ramza Balbanes Orlandau
Race: Human
Homeworld: Thyferra
Affiliation(s): The Jedi Order, The New Republic, House Orlandau
Age: 25
Height: 5'11"
Weight: 170
Hair: Black
Eyes: Emerald Green
Distinguishing features: Small scar on one cheek

Appearance: Ramza is lean, but strong with a wiry but powerful build. His black hair is spiky and falls to just below his shoulders. He usually wears in bound in a ponytail. Instead of the traditional Jedi robes, Ramza wears more 'normal' clothes, depending on the situation. The one piece of clothing he is rarely without is a black sleeveless duster that has silver runes of the ancient Jedi/Sith language embroidered into the trim. He is handsome with sharp, clear features and clever eyes.

 

[HookerBoots]

Bio:
Name: Irina Farlander, or Darth Xeres
Age: 23
Race: Human
Height: 5'4"
Weight: 120
Hair: Light brown
Eyes: Hazel
Loyalties: Herself, her master, and the Empire. In that order.

Appearance: Short and pretty, with long hair, Irina looks nothing like a Sith most of the time, which is why she was sent on this mission. Ready smile, delicate features, and a feisty attitude usually convince people that she's all bark and no bite - which is usually when she kills them. No matter what else she has, she's never without a hair pin that her father gave her before she left home; her home planet was destroyed shortly afterwards.

 

[Armphid]

Adelhyde, capital city of Filgaia was a massive metropolis of gleaming towers of steel and plastic. Speeders and atmospheric craft shot through and above the streets. Among the gleaming urban cityscape, was a massive park, an oasis of lush green in the bustling capital.

High on one of the tallest spires, Ramza Orlandau took a long drink of amber Twi'lek whiskey from a thick sided glass. Leaning against the wall, the young nobleman watched the delegates, guildsmen, and all the rest of the high profile guests whirl and move through the great game of politics. On a raised platform sat the highest officials of Filgaia, including Guildmaster Phacia and the special mediator of these negotiations, Jedi Master Shahazdra. They looked oddly comfortable together, the Guildmaster in the plain gray jumpsuit of a guildsman, only a patch on one arm the sign of her station, and the middle aged Corellian Jedi in her clean but plain robes.

The two were getting on very well. It was almost a pity that Master Shahazdra was here to mediate instead of negotiate. If it were the other way around, Filgaia'd be in the Republic by now. He smiled into his glass, noting two of the Republic delgation speaking softly together. Good. They'd been at each other's throats over something. It had threated to cause a great deal of trouble for the negotiations, until he'd managed to defuse the trouble. Of course, that's why he was here. To work undercover as an 'agent' of the Bacta Guild of Thyferra and secretly watch out for any dark doings that could affect the process.

There'd been a lot of incidents he had to defuse too. This was just the latest. Which to his mind meant that someone else was here deliberately to make things break down. Probably someone in the Imperial Remnant's delegation.

He adjusted the deep blue jacket he was wearing. Time to get in and mingle a little. After all, he couldn't be seen being too serious. Everyone knew that Ramza Orlandau, smart but pampered son of the wealthy House Orlandau liked a good party. He moved out into the crowd, beginning his act. A few smiles here, a little joke or two, some flirtation, all the while his emerald eyes watched, saw, and remembered.

After several minutes, he felt eyes on him. Someone was watching him. He was tempted to reach out with the Force and see who, but he had to keep his cover. Which meant not using the Force...if anyone else here could, they'd notice. Instead, he casually looked about, trying to discover the one watching him.

 

[HookerBoots]

Irina sipped her drink and nodded along to the rhythm of the inane chat of the Filgaian Treasury Minister. Her orders hadn't included killing the man, but she'd do it happily if she got the chance; the lecher hadn't taken his eyes off her breasts since he'd approached her. While she plotted the numerous, delightfully torturous ways the Minster could die, her eyes scanned the crowd and settled on a man she didn't know, and hadn't been briefed on. Tall, black hair, blue jacket. Hmmm. He was cute, and she did like playing with pretty boys. Then he started flirting with the society dames, and she sighed.

Her family wasn't - hadn't been, she reminded herself - rich, and she'd grown up hating the rich playboys that she saw slumming with her friends, then dropping them when it was time to make a good marriage. This guy was obviously one of those, and her gaze became tinged with contempt.

She got the strange feeling that he noticed her watching him, however, which was unusual enough to pique her interest. Then he began to look around, and she was certain; was he . . . he couldn't be a Jedi. Not the spoiled, flirtatious nobleman she was looking at. Irina took another sip of her drink and excused herself as politely as she could from the old fart and headed over to see if she could figure out how the man knew she'd been looking.

She shoved her way through the women surrounding him, snarling at a woman to stepped on her green dress. Up close, he was even more attractive, and she took a mental hold on herself before tapping him on the shoulder. As he turned, she put on as vapid an expression as she could manage, and smiled at him.

 

[Armphid]

Feeling the tap of his shoulder, Ramza sighed inwardly. If this was another dried-up old trophy wife looking for a thrill, he'd...have to suck it up and flirt right back. Had to stay in character. "Excuse me, ladies." With a well faked grin, he turned. "Yes, miss, can I..."

Whoa. The false smile immediately became genuine. This woman was close to his age, and she was beautiful. Long, soft hair, warm eyes, delicate graceful features, and an elegant figure. "Forgive me, miss, but your beauty startled me." The best part was it wasn't even a lie. "I am truly sorry I haven't made your acquaintance already."

He took her hand, bending over it and kissing it. "Ramza Balbanes Orlandau, miss, at your service." "May I have the honor of your name, and...perhaps, a dance?"

 

[HookerBoots]

Irina was prepared to scoff at him, since she was a little startled herself and cynicism was her usual resort in situations like that. But she saw the jealous looks the other women were giving her, drank in their bile with the rest of her cocktail, and smiled at him with genuine feeling. "Irina Farlander, my lord. And a dance would be lovely." She remembered hearing gossip about Ramza Orlandau, and would even admit to herself that she was a little curious about him.

She'd heard that he was a playboy, but not as frivilous as most of the wealthy young men. An eye for ladies, and most ladies had an eye for him. Well, he was handsome, and she'd have danced with him regardless of his station; this just made it even better.

Without looking, she handed her glass to one of the women, who took it out of reflex, then glared even harder at her, and tipped her head to him slightly. There was nothing she liked better than tormenting the women that looked down on her just because she didn't have a title besides her appointed one. And even if nothing else came from this dance, the looks she was getting were more than worth the possibility of mindless chitchat from him. "Shall we have our dance now, or would you like to wait for a different song?"

 

[Armphid]

Ramza smirked before he could contain the expression. This Irina Farlander was very smooth. She'd just managed to insult everyone of the women he had been talking to without saying a single word. She'd also done it in a way that even he was uncertain if it was intentional or not.

And he thought this party would be boring.

"By all means, Miss Farlander, allow me to escort you to the floor now." He offered her his arm. Winking, he continued, "This way I can more easily try to get another dance when this song ends."

As they moved toward the dance floor, he spoke in a lower voice. "Thank you, by the way, for rescuing me." "You very well may have saved my life." "Much longer with those ladies and I was in danger of dying of boredom."

 

[HookerBoots]

"My pleasure. At least so far," Irina added with a smile. It was sort of novel for her to be told she'd saved a life, and she wasn't quite sure how to feel about it. Obviously, it was a compliment, but she just wasn't sure how to deal with this man. "I rather enjoy watching the rich 'ladies'," she imbued the term with only half the contempt she felt, "shoot daggers at me with their eyes."

She patted her hair as they reached the dance floor and smiled up at him. "And as long as you can keep the Minister of the Treasury away from me, you can have as many dances as you like."

They stepped onto the dance floor, and she placed one hand in his, put her other on his shoulder, and felt him slide one hand onto her waist, as they merged into the intricate steps of the dance.

 

[Armphid]

"Then I will be a shield against him for as long as I am able." Ramza swung Irina into the measured, stately steps of an Alderaanean waltz. She knew it, and moved with an easy grace that came from much practice. Though he did not think it was dance practice, necessarily. The rancor in her voice sounded genuine.

"I don't mean to pry, Miss Farlander, but may I ask what has brought you to Filgaia?" The nice thing about a dance like this was it allowed for conversation very easily. "Are you a part of one of the delegations?"

 

[HookerBoots]

She coughed. "I am a delegate, yes. I'm a junior ambassador for the Imperial Remnant." She looked over his shoulder, letting her feet follow the steps without her brain interfering. "I'm not, however, nobility," she added with an arched eyebrow, looking directly at him.

Even though she knew he was there primarily as a playboy, she returned the question. "What about you? Are you here for any purpose?" The glimpses she was catching as they travelled around the dance floor showed her gratifyingly envious faces, and she smiled winningly at him. "You're an excellent dancer, by the way."

He was, but she was sure it wasn't for the same reason she was. Her grace was . . . well, partially natural, but substantially from her training with weapons and martial arts. It was all the same thing, really, dancing and fighting. And making love, she supposed, too. Find the rhythm and you had it down.

 

[Armphid]

The Remnant. He felt a brief dagger stab of disappointment. It meant that in his true occupation, they were enemies. The Imperial Remnant continued all of the Empire's policy of Force-users, and were no friends of the Jedi. At her comment about nobility though, he smiled. "Here's where I'm shocked and appalled at your low class, correct?" He held her out at arm's length, letting her spin once and then pulling her back to him. "Sorry to disappoint, dear Ms. Farlander, but a person's quality is far more important than who their parents' parents' were." "Blue blood doesn't make someone a worthwhile sentient, does it?"

Her smile was dazzling. What a beauty! "Thank you." "You're very good yourself." They crossed over once, then again, then turned into the main slow turns of the dance. "I am here to represent the interests of the Thyferran Bacta Guild in the negotiations." Thyferra was part of the New Republic, but sold bacta to everyone, including the Imperials. "Though really there's not much for me to do." "Bacta is only made on Thyferra, and everyone wants it."

Ramza hated saying that, largely because he knew it might be grounds for her to ditch him. A young noble in a job that did itself wasn't exactly the kind of person she would like to be around, from that he'd seen. If he could be friendly with her, it could provide him insight into the Remnant's tactics in the negotiations...and she was a very pretty, very interesting woman.

 

[HookerBoots]

"Tough work." She laughed at his obvious reluctance to tell her why he was there. "I suppose it means you have lots of free time, though." Oh, hell. Did that sound like a suggestion? And was it so bad if it was? Irina gave him a small smirk, and a little headtilt. "Incidentally, I'm with the Imperial Remnant for one reason. They hired me before anyone else."

That wasn't true, of course. She was there because her master had told her to be, and had contacts in the Remnant. But it was not the popular delegation to be part of at all. And he was charming. Very. And could get her closer to her target. Excellent.

"What do you do in your free time, Lord Orlandau?" Smiling at him, she added, "Or do you prefer Lord Ramza?"

 

[Armphid]

"A fair amount of free time, Miss Farlander." "I find many ways to fill it, but passing time with pleasant company is always the best." Let her interpret that as she may. It was a general invitation, but it was also something of a come on. He wondered what she'd do with the line...

"The Remnant hired you first, did they?" "Well, they're lucky to have you." He grinned as they moved through the final steps of the dance, the music straining away. "Perhaps I can sway you to consider other options."

There was that smile again. He felt a slight misgiving at it. He didn't really want to use her, but...he would. Just like she'd try to use him. That was the game, after all. Regrettable. "Lord Orlandau and Lord Ramza are for people I like to keep at arm's length, Miss Farlander." "Please call me Ramza."

 

[HookerBoots]

She smiled at him, slightly evasive. "I'm certain you're very persuasive, Ramza." And then her smile turned genuine. "And in that case, I'm Irina." Giving him a little curtsy now that the music had stopped, she took her hands back. "Have you decided if you'd like another dance, then? Or shall we part ways and abandon each other to our respective suitors?"

Irina half-hoped he'd decline her tacit offer; if they didn't remain together, they wouldn't use each other, and she - uncharacteristically - liked him enough to feel bad about knowing how she'd use him. And would be forced to kill him if he found out who she was. Most of her, however, was going to be highly disappointed if he said no.

Not that she'd show it, of course.

 

[Armphid]

Ramza's smile in answer was genuine. "Thank you, Irina." "You do me a great honor." He bowed to her, drawing a few stares and mutterings. Rather than the modest incline due one of her station, he had bowed as low as one would for a Princess. That ought to make things interesting. It was no less than he felt she deserved at the moment.

Straightening, he took one of her hands. It was sad, really. But this was part of being in the Order. "My decision was made after the second stanza." "If you woud do me the great pleasure, I would indeed like another dance." "And another, and perhaps another yet, though it may be prudent to take a break on the balcony after that."

"Forgive me for being bold, Irina, but I've no intention of allowing any other suitor near you tonight."

 

[HookerBoots]

Raising one eyebrow to him, half of Irina's mouth curved up in a smile. "The second stanza? Ah, yes, when I told you I was part of the Remnant's delegation." Stepping into his arms again, she caught another furious glare from another noblewoman, and the rest of her mouth smiled. "And such boldness is only unwelcome when your intentions are not honorable."

That bit almost made her choke with laughter. She couldn't really have cared less if his intentions were honorable; she was a Sith, for crying out loud! Honor was almost a foreign word. And as a woman . . . well, these women were already certain she'd gotten her postion on her back, so it didn't matter at all. But playing the part meant acting coy and concerned about her honor.

 

[Armphid]

Hmmm, was that intended to show that she knew part of his interest was due to her position? Or just marking the moment. It was good recall, in any event. More and more interesting. Her comment about honor, well, it made the mask slip a little. His eyes narrowed just a little, and the muscles of her jaw tightened.

It was an issue he had with the Masters. He understood that by posing as the useless playboy he could do a lot of good for the Order. He understood he'd saved lives and untold millions of credits this way, gathered deep and important intelligence. But all at the cost of his reputation and his honor.

In less than a second, the mask was back in place. "Dear Irina, I assure you, I intend nothing nefarious." "Merely to pass the time in your most pleasant company, and perhaps woo you enough to consent to my presence on other occasions during our stay here."

 

[HookerBoots]

Her lips twitched again. Ah, the honor thing again. She'd seen his face shift out of what she was entirely sure now was just a mask of "foolish nobility" and into an expression she was familiar with. He was peeved, just for a moment, but Irina didn't feel the twinge of fear she sometimes felt when her Master wore that expression.

Nonetheless, she smiled sweetly at him. "I assure you, I meant no insult. Some men would try to take advantage of a woman alone. Clearly, you're not of that sort." God, guildsmen and their honor. Almost as bad as Jedi, but without the power to back it up. "And you're certainly doing an excellent job wooing me, as it were."

Irina smiled at him, genuinely. "Whenever you're ready for a break, please, let me know and we can adjourn to the balcony."

 

[Armphid]

"My heart sings to hear that," Ramza replied with an answering smile. He knew she hadn't meant to insult him. She had picked up on that momentary lapse though. She was very observant. Far more so than she wanted anyone to know, given the vapid way she'd approached him initially. "Irina, you become more intruiging with each passing minute."

A nice compliment, and very true. If she was a junior member of the delegation, the senior members had best be careful. As they swung through another stately dance, he felt another set of eyes on him. He glanced over Irina's head to see Master Shahazdra looking at him. She quirked one eyebrow slightly, then turned back to listen to Guildmaster Phacia.

Once a master, always. She didn't want to worry so much. Irina's bright and seemingly true smile was met by one of his own. "At the end of this dance then." "I'd like to breathe some air that isn't full of perfume and cologne." "And the city is quite striking at night."

 

[HookerBoots]

"At the end of this dance, then." Irina tipped her head to him and sighed. "It will be nice not to have my nose clogged with the heavy scents these women favor." It was nearly stifling in the room, and the smell was almost making her light-headed. She was sure it was the combined smells of all the perfumes and colognes, and the heat that was making her feel this way.

The music wound down again, and she smiled at him. "You know, don't you, that as soon as we head outside, every woman here will want to rip my hair out." Regardless, she took the arm he offered and they headed out onto the balcony. She took a deep breath and let it out explosively.

 

[Armphid]

"I'm confident you could take them," he responded glibly. "I imagine there's many a man who wants to punch me for stealing you away, so let's say that we are even, shall we?"

The air outside was a vast improvement over what was inside. True, there was the faint scent of industry, and even at this height it was still city air, but it was cool and clear and did not stink of flowers. He grinned as she let out a big breath, "It gets overpowering, doesn't it?" "One of the worst things about these soirees."

He led her to the railing, setting one hand on it to look out over the city. Outside, the call of the Force was very great. There were so many people here, so many animals, so many insects...he wanted to let the power in. But he had to keep his cover. If he did let it in, any other Force sensitive would know someone had. They'd have to be nearby to know who but...it was still too big a risk.

He glanced over at her, "It's impressive, isn't it?" "Even on this world so many don't even know exists, there's all this." He smiled a little sadly. The fate of all this was on him, in many ways. What a burden. "Forgive me, I get foolish at times." A lot of times, according to many.

"I hope I'm not prying, but...I'd very much like to learn more about you." "Are you from the Remnant, Irina?"

 

[HookerBoots]

Leaning against the railings, Irina gazed out over the city and sighed. "No, I'm not from the Remnant. My home planet is . . . gone." She looked through the doors and into the party, answering the curious glances of the people inside with a mysterious smile. "It was destroyed shortly after I left home to see what I could do in another system. My family . . . My sister was supposed to be on her way to visit me when I heard the news." One hand gripped the railing tightly. "I don't know that she made it, I've not heard from her at all."

She smiled at him, unsure why she'd just told him all that truth. "So, you could say I'm not from anywhere." Irina flipped her hair over her shoulder, and sighed. "More of an answer than you hoped for, I'm sure. What about yourself? How did you get involved in the Thyferran Bacta Guild?"

 

[Armphid]

There was more truth in that than she'd intended to tell him. Intriguing. Poignant as well. There weren't that many worlds that had been destroyed...which one could she be from? Unless she'd been very young when it happened, Alderaan was too long ago. Cardia? "It was more than I expected, but far from unwanted." "I'm sorry for your loss, Irina." She probably heard that a lot, but he meant it. What a terrible thing to experience. "I hope you find your sister." "...If you tell me her name, I can see what I can do." "Through my family, I have many contacts throughout the galaxy."

At her own question, he smiled a little. "House Orlandau has been part of the Guild since it took over for the Bacta Cartel that backed Admiral Daala and her final effort to restore the Empire." "My father flew fighters in the Rebel Alliance, and went home after Coruscant was re-taken." He probably shouldn't have told her that, depending on how loyal to the Remnant she was. "After it was all sorted out, the Guild was formed and took over the bacta trade." "I'm the oldest son of his, well, his mistress, Mother was low born so they couldn't marry, but he has two older sons by his wife, and they are more involved." "I suppose, he felt he needed something to do with me." Everything so far was absolutely true.

"So in addition to my other schooling and training, I learned diplomacy, and was sent to take care of assignments like this, where I can do no real harm." That was a lie. The Order had approached his father, both Ramza and his sister going to Yavin 4 to learn the ways of the Force.

He chuckled ruefully, "Hardly inspiring."

 

[HookerBoots]

She smiled at his offer. "No, but thank you. I already have feelers out for her, but there's not much hope." There really wasn't much, if any, hope; Lizeth was probably dead already. After this many years, if she was alive, even the limited power the Remnant still wielded would have found her. And Irina had more resources as a Sith than she'd ever have as a diplomat, and still nothing. She pushed away the thoughts, and smirked at him.

"I'm sure you're as dangerous as you need to be," she said with a twitch of her eyebrow. He was lying to her. Something in that last bit was a lie, but she couldn't figure out what. Yet. But she had yet to meet a bastard nobleman-turned-diplomat what wasn't dangerous in some way. "And I'm sure I could think of something else to do with you besides sending you on diplomatic missions."

Turning so that her hip and waist were pressed against the railing as she faced him, she smiled, a little sharp. "So what other schooling and training did you recieve? Besides how to tolerate the unsubtle innuendos of matrons."

 

[Armphid]

"Could you?" Ramza grinned, "There is a subject I would wish to explore further when time and circumstance permits." She was sharp, enough so that he could tell she knew there was more to him that he was putting on. She'd seen under the mask, at least a little. She was the first. Impressive.

"I learned all manner of things, much of which I've forgotten." He remembered almost all of it. "Planets and cultures, law, finance, dancing, how to enjoy subtle innuendos, and well, a few less refined activities." He felt almost like he was bragging. How much did she learn from this? It didn't seem like much, but...

"I learned to fly a ship, and manage long trips, I have a customized Lambda-class shuttle on my own, actually." "To shoot,ad even to fight." His hand went to the scar on his cheek, "Duels are not unknown in Thyferran noble circles, or elsewhere in the galaxy."