Castles in the Sky

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

It wasn't often that she found herself on Dac.

A beautiful planet, but one that she rarely had cause to visit. Her duties and posting afforded little time for trips to the more inner portions of Alliance space. Her usual routes were along the Border, and that was where she mostly stayed. And admittedly, the times that she had visited Dac, the circumstances had been much less than pleasant.

The nature of her presence here, now, was of a very personal type. She'd requested a small amount of personal leave, and the powers that be had been kind enough to grant her request.

And so now, on Dac, the Lupine strode calmly through the halls of Alliance Intel's sprawling complex. Her uniform was spotless, her features set in a neutral expression. She was here for one woman.

Grace Van-Derveld.

There was a small bit of nervousness in her mind, but it was held in check with tight control, and as she stepped onto the lift that would take her up another few levels, she waited in patient silence to be deposited on the floor she'd selected. It didn't take long. A soft ding, and a moment before the doors opened. Stepping out, s'Il continued her short journey.

It would not be long now.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

Alone in the dimly lit office sat Grace, nursing a tumbler of whiskey as a beast of a storm tore up the coast line. It had come in about an hour ago, black clouds rolled in with nefarious intent. Waves soon kicked up with intensity, plowing into the platforms and causing Alliance crew members to scurry about to secure equipment from being blown or washed away. Rain pelted the windows, its shadows streaking along the Director's face like tears.

Director Van-Derveld? Captain s'Ilancy has arrived.

With a sigh, she reached behind the chair to set the glass aside. "Send her in."

The crisp voice of authority was not unusual, but there were bags under her eyes that make-up pretended away. Grace had not gotten a decent night's sleep since returning with Dasquian. Thoughts were consumed of his recovery and every need requested was personally fulfilled. Most of it was behind the scenes because the last thing he needed was Grace hovering over him every single second of the day, but she could ensure he was comfortable. So little things that Grace was normally impeccable about regarding her own personal care fell by the wayside. She'd forget to shower, skip a meal here and there, or how she had taken to wear her uniform on a daily basis because it was easier than picking out clothing.

With the storm still raging behind her, Grace stood and readied herself, glad for a distraction with the captain.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

There was a slight hesitation before she walked through the door's threshold. Not many times found her on Dac, and never once had she had cause to step foot in Alliance Intel's headquarters. Perhaps it was a healthy bit of nervousness, as her history with Intel had not exactly been the best due to still semi-recent events. She knew that their were eyes watching her every movement, and that a good portion of those eyes belonged to Intel. But, she was steadfast in showing her renewed dedication to the Alliance. She had thrown herself into her work, determined to prove herself all over again.

Of course, there were times when matters of the more personal nature took over, and that was what sent her through the door and into Director Van-Derveld's office.

There was a gloominess to the office's interior, and s'Il briefly wondered if she had made a mistake; if right now, of all times, was the worst possible time to request a meeting.

Her eye fell on the Director, and slowing to a stop, the Lupine bit her lower lip before leveling her expression into a neutral mask, gaze locked with Van-Derveld's.

Grace held a passing resemblance to her brother, but that vague likeness was where the similarities ended. s'Il was thankful for that.

"Director," she started quietly.

[Grace Van-Derveld]

If Grace had picked up on that brief moment of hesitation before speaking, she made no mention of it, even if the truth was her obliviousness.

"Captain," she stated firmly, sizing up the s'Ilancy.

Grace couldn't remember the last time they spoke, let alone on friendly terms considering her people were keeping a watch on the lupine at all hours. Thus her surprise with the request for a meeting, here, on Dac in her office. Face to face time meant that this was important. That meant it would be up to the captain to persuade Grace's cooperation and the Director of Intelligence wasn't in a very giving mood as of that.

"A drink? Or are we on duty?"

Except for some alcohol. She could offer that.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

A small shake of her head.

"Thank you, but no."

Even now she exercised restraint. She knew well enough that countless eyes were upon her, and some of those eyes undoubtedly belonged to the Director. There was at least a sense of honor still in play, and the Lupine was determined to throw herself into her work; determined to prove herself all over again. She had been with the Rebels since the earliest days, fighting alongside them against the Empire. And yet every ounce of trust that she had earned was dashed to pieces by a single man and the iron hold he held over her. She had agreed to be at his side to keep her own daughter from such a fate, but as time went on she had become a twisted wreck. She was as much to blame as Dan Thrule, truth be told. And now she was reaping the consequences.

"I'm not on duty, but I'd still rather not."

Still she clung to the uncertainty. And within it she found a strange sort of resolve. A desire to walk that old path alongside the right cause, and atone for her dark deeds.

s'Il gave the Director a courteous nod of gratitude.

"Thank you for agreeing to meet with me."

[Grace Van-Derveld]

"Alright," she said about the drink and her playing a nice hostess was at an end.

She waved a hand at the pleasantries. "Just ... have a seat and tell me what I can do for you."

Grace was usually upfront and direct so the sudden shift in getting to the immediate point was not unusual. It was not out of spite or distrust for the captain, though their relationship was complicated because of their lupine heritage that Grace did not wish to embrace.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

She sat. What was there to say in following the brusque order that obedience did not display?

Of course, she knew that words would have to come sooner rather than later, and the elder Lupine folded her hands in her lap even as she leaned back slightly into the confines her chair offered. Her shoulders seemed to loosen however, the knots that had been slowly stitching together over the last few days began to unravel with such a simple act as sitting. But, it was a feeling that she didn't allow herself to think too much on. After all, the level gaze of Director Van-Derveld was not forever patient.

s'Il felt her features fall into a frown, steeling herself as she met the Director's eyes.

"There is a woman that I would like to find... "

A pause, but she went on regardless.

"... a woman like us."

[Grace Van-Derveld]

And just like that the favor had to deal with precisely what she abhorred - the untapped power that lay within her. The Force and her genetic lupine heritage lay waiting for the day when Grace would embrace who she was and meant to be. Despite the good she could do with all that power, all Grace had to do was think of her brother's abuse of power to give that potential the finger.

"You mean, a woman like you," she corrected unusually harsh, even for her.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

The pushback was immediate, and the suddenly much more hard edge to the Director's eyes was unmistakable. It was enough to make s'Il hesitate, unsure if she should press the issue. In any other situation she might have, but right now, and owing to the position that she was in, she let it go. Perhaps in the future she could try to work past Van-Derveld's defenses, but this moment was not the time.

She bowed her head.

"Very well. A woman like... me."

A deep breath, and s'Il pressed on.

"She used to be aboard Dauntless. With the myself and the General."

Pursing her lips, she pressed on.

"I do not know what happened to her in my absence before the battle over Ossus, only that she was not listed among the surviving or the dead. I think that she was sent away just before then."

[Grace Van-Derveld]

The Captain had lost her pet, she thought as another sip was had. This was a curiosity for Grace for the mere fact if this woman was just important to s'Ilancy because of her lupine genes. Did the woman actually care about anything else except to preserve her race and live in a state of penance for the crimes committed against the Alliance and Jedi. Then there was the fact that this woman was aligned with the traitors.

"You say she may have been sent away," she said crisply. "By whom?"

If it were the General, this woman would have a death mark on her with no questions asked.

[Loklorien s'Ilancy]

"I... don't know."

Which was the truth.

"It's very possible that I sent her away myself, to keep her from the... "

There was no need to finish that particular sentence, and s'Il let her tongue run along suddenly dry lips. She saw before her mind's eye the scattered and frayed ends of each notion and thoughts of her own mind, and with a deep breath she closed her eyes. This was no good. She needed focus. An exhale, and order began to call each errant strand into place.

"Permission to speak freely, Ma'am?"