Deals Between Devils [R.S. Esalis]

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon shoveled another spoonful of the cold, semi-solid sweetness into his mouth and idly kept the spoon on his lip as he walked and read the datapad that had been left on his desk that morning.

He mumbled inaudibly to himself in a baritone rumble. The man’s gray eyes dissected the report line by line and his mind digested it faster than his body would the iced treat he now consumed.

Walking through offices not of your own can be a little odd—especially when they look exactly like your own. If you’d seen one Imperial building, you had honestly seen them all. The dramatic light contrasts, the over-utilization of drab colors, endless corridors with seemingly infinite doors.

Eventually the Executor reached one secretary, ignored her, and walked up to a door. “Sir? Sir! You can’t go in there! Do you have an appointment?”

Khendon frowned, turned on his heel, and brought the pad to his side. “Are you talking to me?” Anger flared and his face’s muscles tightened in perturbation. Without warning, a slim, grim grin slid onto his visage.

“I don’t need an appointment, I’m the Executor.”

“You don’t need an appointment, you’re the Executor.”

The doors made a hushed sound like a stifled whimper and parted for the Sith. He marched into the office like a conquering hero.

[R. S. Esalis]

Her back was to him as he entered, but that mattered little.

Director Esalis' office was spartan, to say the least. Even the walls were nearly bare, giving the whole interior the illusion of having more space than it really did. The few possession that were on display offered no real insight as to who the Director really was persay, but to her that wasn't an issue. Her personal tastes had no business - for the most part - belonging in her professional life.

A statuette of a twisting torso, arms thrown out as if in agony rested on a pedastal beside the door, while across from it another torso with arms spread in joy sat on a matching pedastal on the opposite side.

Supposedly they represented life and death. Esalis didn't care much for their meaning, but they did hold a rather intrisic value that she found herself in appreciation of.

A large teekwood desk occupied the back portion of the office, and the Director sat comfortably in the leather-backed chair, currently facing away from the door that Khendon Sevon had just entered.

Without looking up from the book she was reading, Esalis spoke, mirth clearly evident in her voice. "One of these days you're going to fry my secretary's brain by accident."

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon set the empty container of iced delight in the hands of the joyful statuette. He rubbed his sticky fingers together and made a face. “It would be an improvement. As is, she can’t even recognize the Executor.

“What’re you reading?” The Imperial strolled forward and leaned over the woman’s desk, his gray eyes narrowing with mild amusement.

He didn’t particularly like Esalis, but she had her varied uses.

[R. S. Esalis]

"Nothing too terribly important," she sighed, "just a journal of sorts."

The leatherbound book was closed, then set gently atop the glossy surface of her desk. She cast a refreshed look up to the Executor. "You have escaped your doctors early - I was going to visit you this afternoon and bring you a box of sweets... "

Her eyes were drawn behind him to the empty bowl resting in the arms of one of her statuettes, and Esalis blinked. Puzzlement mixed with frustration passed over her features as she slowly finished her sentence, "... or a bundle of flowers with a clever limerick attached."

The Director leaned back while looking once more at Sevon with a single brow ticked upwards.

[Khendon Sevon]

“No doubt both treats would be to die for, Director, no doubt.” He grinned and brought himself up straight. Stormy eyes sized up the woman and he nodded in silent confirmation of his own thoughts.

“I’m going to try something. I’ll say,” he gesticulated as if looking for the word, “something and you’ll respond.” That easy smile slid onto his lightly tanned face.

“Let’s try this,” he allowed a pause, one hand held up for silence. It rumbled from his voice like threatening thunder, “S’ilancy.”

[R. S. Esalis]

There was a hesitant breath between the two as Esalis digested the word he'd spoken. Finally, she clicked her tongue and leaned forward, folding her hands and resting them over the journal.

"An interesting way to get to the heart of a matter," she remarked casually.

"I know the name, yes."

Another brief lull, and she went on. "I will not deny that it is on the forefront of my thoughts, so it comes as no surprise to me that you would pluck it from my brain so easily.

"Is this your way of telling me you want this," she tapped at the leatherbound book with a slim finger, "... so you may peruse the diary of a dead padawan?"

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s smile slowly shifted to a lopsided grin. The whites of his teeth caught the light for a moment and made his face appear contorted in an animal snarl. Clearly Esalis knew more about this woman than he. In fact, there was internal shock that she would be already studying the mad Force wielder that had bested him.

She did not know about who inflicted his wounds. It was an interesting situation. If the Executor really wanted, he could play this to his advantage and not let Esalis in on his information while gathering hers.

Khendon thought for a moment about these and other things and nodded slowly, his jaw forward slightly and lips pursed. “Interesting, but no. I have a policy of not ‘skimming’ the minds of fellow Imperials. It tends to make the bodies pile up, you know.

The smile was gone and in its place was a mildly bitter scowl. “Tell me more about her and maybe I’ll tell you something of her that you have not yet divined.”

[R. S. Esalis]

Another silence as the Director looked up at the Executor. Finally, she leaned back with a barely audible sigh and indicated that her guest take a seat in one of the chairs on the opposite side of her desk.

"Loklorien s'Ilancy. Padawan of Mace Windu for the entirety of her time at the Temple up until the Purge. She had a knack with blades, and took to Windu's tutelage like a Hutt to crime."

Esalis slid the book across the desk toward Khendon. "But that's really not what interests me. Her abilities with the Force were considerable, but it was her other life that I have found more intruiging.

"To put it plainly, she was a folktale. A rumor. A scary story told to misbehaving children at bedtime. 'Be careful little Cindel, or the big bad Lupine will get you and eat you right up!'

"That, is the side of her that I am the most taken with. If nothing else, her old journal makes for some very interesting reading, and gives an insight into the mind of an arrogant, prideful, and so very nearly extinct species."

She waved her hand at nothing in particular. "Jedi lore holds nothing for me, but this," her finger loosely pointed to the book, "... this shows something so much more appealing."

[Khendon Sevon]

Not exactly what he expected. There were tales of lupines in plenty of the galaxy’s cultures. Khendon had always attributed the stories to a psychological fascination with animals at metaphors for human excess.

Director Esalis was not one to run around subscribing to myths—was she? “So,” he cleared his throat, “you believe Lupines exist?” He raised an eyebrow and allowed his head to bob slowly as he ran a hand over the worn cover of the book.

A tingle in the Force brought the Sith’s senses into sharp resolve. This most definitely was that dastardly woman’s words—there was a sense about it that held as testament.

He leaned back in the chair he had plopped himself in and said in his low baritone, “tell me more.”

[R. S. Esalis]

"Oh I should dare say that they do in fact exist."

The finality with which she spoke was unmistakable. "Or at least, there is only one left. Though sadly," she nodded at the book," the Padawan is not the one whom I speak of."

There was a quiet then, as Esalis allowed her eyes to rest upon the Executor. Something in his eyes pulled at her, and the Director inhaled deeply before expelling a long, barely audible breath.

Hands folding into a steeple, she idly popped a knuckle - a delicate sound coming from such slender fingers.

[Khendon Sevon]

“Director, this fascination is current. You yourself have admitted to having this S’ilancy woman on your mind. Would I be wrong to assume that you have a project that I am not aware of?” He inclined his head, brow woven in the text of the question. Gray orbs flickered with tempests.

“Tell me more.” The storm was no longer on the horizon. It was here.

Khendon’s posture and tone were intrigued and mildly reprimanding, like a boss having found his employee taking an early lunch during busy business time.

[R. S. Esalis]

A brow lofted at the tone of his voice, and Esalis merely let a shadowy smile drift across her lips.

"Executor, I have many projects, which many people are unaware of. This," she reached a hand out to tap the spine of the book, "has simply been an ecclectic read; a puzzle to wile away the hours. I could tell you the ultimate end product I would more than likely be able to present, but with my research still ongoing, I'm afraid it might seem like nothing more than the ravings of a lunatic mind."

She could tell that he would not be swayed.

"But, for your satisfaction, I will offer this. We have already had armies made up of one person; clones have proved most beneficial and we can tailor them to most needs. But what if we added a new facet to this little concoction of military muscle? What if we gave our troops something that was once only thought of in fairy tales?

"Selctive genetic re-breeding, of a sort. All of the attributed strengths of a Lupine, and none of its' weaknesses.

"Think of the fresh nightmares that would be created - instead of parents chiding children and scaring them with the bogeyman, governments would order their people to conform, else the Empire's shadow would befall them in a terrible manner."

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon looked deep into the woman’s eyes and tried to read her. The Executor had expected Esalis to turn him out of her office. Instead, she had provided him with all the cards he really needed to make a full hand.

“You’ve found lupine DNA, haven’t you? Otherwise you wouldn’t be pursuing this idea with such fervor. You’re a pragmatist, Director.” He cocked his head slightly to the side; a thin grin remaining perched on his features.

The genetic mixing of species was something that was generally frowned upon. Khendon had seen some amazing works of science in his time—and far too many were horrific and deformed. He was slowly becoming very interested in this woman’s work. Very interested, indeed.

[R. S. Esalis]

A simple nod. "I do try, Executor."

Satisfied that she had somewhat struck a curious chord within Sevon, Esalis leaned forward, one hand reaching out to pull the leatherbound book back in front of her.

"Now - you said you had some information on the author of this fine book?"

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon nodded his head slowly, “Yes, I do.” There was a twinkle somewhere in the tempest of his eyes. This was a game. All Imperials played games, even Esalis.

The Executor cracked his neck audibly and let out a breath. “But, that doesn’t mean I’m going to tell you this second. So, continue. Our discussion is just beginning to get interesting. Did the DNA come from a live specimen or already dead?”

He would tell her soon enough. First, he wanted to make sure he knew as much about this woman's project as she would let go.

[R. S. Esalis]

A lull in the conversation, and Esalis pursed her lips as her own eyes clouded with the beginnings of a mild frustration.

"The data I have collected thus far is for myself and one other to know about.

"If you came into my office today to try and throw about your muscle, then I'm afraid I have no patience to oblige you. You have caught me in the very beginning stages of something that I would rather not disclose to you for fear of raising hopes. What I said before is conjecture and the imagination of a loyal mindset. Nothing more at this point in time."

Esalis leaned back. "It seems that you have Ms. s'Ilancy on your mind as well, however."

[Khendon Sevon]

He wasn’t getting anymore out of her. She was trained, just like he, in interrogation—on both sides of it.

Khendon wet his lips, “Esalis, one of the requirements of being an Executor is that I be one of the meanest SOB’s in all genres of combat. I’ve killed special forces, expert assassins, heroic knights of dark orders, Jedi, Sith.

“Now,” he fidgeted slightly and took a breath to batter down the anger, “what happens when I lose a battle?” His eyes weren’t happy anymore. There was a grim look to his face. It was as if he would explode like a proton-torpedo at any second. Woe to thee that set off this bomb.

“Well, S’ilancy is alive. She’s dangerous. And she bested me on Cathar.”

He looked damned angry.

[R. S. Esalis]

She blinked, confusion replacing the annoyance in her eyes.

s'Ilancy? Alive? In her mind it was impossible.

And that's when she laughed.

"Alive? s'Ilancy? Khendon, I've already apologized for teasing you back when we were in the Academy. No need for your little jokes."

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon clenched his jaw and unclenched it.

“Do I joke, Esalis. Do, I?” His hand dove into a pocket in an almost menacing way and delayed there.

He withdrew a data crystal and threw it across the table to the woman. “Play it.”

[R. S. Esalis]

Still chuckling to herself, Esalis caught the data crystal with a simple flick of her wrist.

"A recording even," she mused with humor in her voice, "your trickeries are getting more elaborate and well thought out as you get older."

A look to Sevon showed him to be more than a little agitated at her reaction, but the Director thought nothing of it - after all, a good practical joke often needed a good actor. A few more silent seconds ticked by, and with a sigh she pulled a datapad from one of her desk drawers. Sliding the crystal into a waiting port, Esalis flicked the 'pad on and waited as it accessed the information the Executor had given to her.

Moments later and the screen flickered once as the recording began...

[Khendon Sevon]

It was a simple recording from the scope of a rifle. Specifically, it was from the Stormguardsman Harbinger’s assault weapon. The image was a bit grainy and low resolution, but that was to be expected. After all, the primary purpose of the device was to allocate kill credit.

There were two dancing figures that the view followed. They exchanged a flurry of moves and intricately waltzed in a deadly struggle of combating bodies.

The recording ended with Khendon’s back being sliced open and picked up from a camera perched in the helmet of the first on-scene medic.

“If you didn’t catch her face,” the Executor frowned slightly, “you can rewind, frame 214 has the best shot. You can also barely make out the sound bite ‘And in answer to your previous question, my name is Loklorien s'Ilancy.’ Of course, the eavesdropping package the soldier was carrying wasn’t the greatest, he was on a search and destroy op, not a spy mission.”

[R. S. Esalis]

Esalis replayed the recording, taking in any amount of detail that she could gleen from it. At frame 214, she pause it, scrutinizing the picture.

A few quick manipulations and she had seperated the audio from the visual feed. Pressing a button on the panel built into the desktop, the Director waited as a small panel slid away to reveal a small built-in port, and she fitted the 'pad into it with ease.

Anotherpress of a button, and the recording's audio filled the room. It was distorted, but the voices of the two combatants was still audible; if not minorly garbled.

And in answer to your previous question, my name is Loklorien s'Ilancy.

She stopped it.

Esalis leaned back, staring at the grainy still of the woman on the 'pad.

She was still more than skeptical.

"I won't deny that this individual is skilled - she would have to be in order to best you. But how can you be sure that she is who she claims to be?"

[Khendon Sevon]

Khendon’s shoulders rose then fell in a lazy shrug. The gray-eyed-man allowed a slim grin to form on his face, “Who really cares if she is who she claims to be. I just want to catch her.”

The smirk twitched into a lopsided smile. He leaned back in his chair and propped his shiny-booted feet onto the Director’s desk. “So, what’ve you been up to? Besides gleaning DNA from aliens.” He rapped his fingers on the side of the blaster holster at his thigh.

The irratable clicking soothed his chaotic thoughts.