Noble Propositions

Posted on Tue May 14th, 2013 @ 12:01am by Thane & Morgo Le'Shaad
Edited on on Thu May 31st, 2018 @ 1:16am

4,596 words; about a 23 minute read

Chapter: Chapter IV: Rezer's Edge
Location: Red Raptor
Timeline: Pre-Chapter IV

The ship was quiet and full of gray shadows as Morgo shut the doors to the Medical Bay and slipped the datapad in her hands into the folds of her deep blue michiyuki, which stood out upon the white of her jumpsuit underneath.

“Lock.” She muttered quietly and heard the door’s locking mechanism slide into place. Many-a precious and sensitive things laid inside her lab in the medical bay. And it simply wouldn’t do for anyone who might go snooping to find such things.

Pushing a stray strand of blonde hair behind her ear, Morgo walked with languid grace down the corridor, barefoot. Anyone who could’ve seen her would’ve probably guessed she was simply strolling around aimlessly without a goal... when it was really quite the opposite. Morgo had a purpose. She always did. And today her purpose was a man—dark haired and vertically challenged. Thane.

There were more than a few things she wanted from him.

Coming to a stop in front of the Training Room, Morgo looked in, eyes flicking from one end of the room to the other only to find it empty, with no one sweating over the mats or pounding the stiff dummy.

“Not here then.” Morgo breathed to herself as she turned to make for the cabin’s hall. Upon reaching Thane’s cabin door, in the middle of the corridor, Morgo stopped, raising her hand to rap lightly on the door with her knuckles. She absently wondered whether or not Thane could feel her gaping void in the Force wandering around the ship looking for him, or whether he could feel her now outside his room. That is, if he was even in his room. Thick as the doors were, Morgo could hear nothing more than the sound of light music coming from inside—surely a sign that Thane was there. If not, Morgo made a note to check the Recreation Room.

“Are you there, your Most Honorable Lordship? Your Grace? Your Eminence? Your Serene Highness?” Morgo intoned through the door, her voice smooth as she pleasantly named off random honorifics in place of all those colorful things she wanted to say to Thane in their stead, “An audience with your Lordship is demanded.” Morgo continued, speaking as if she were some royal messenger, “I’m afraid there’s some miserable wench outside your quarters who refuses to leave until an audience is granted. Imagine that, my Lord!”

"Technically," came the measured and lightly irritated voice of the former Jedi from within, "a duchess outranks a baron in the traditional sense - and certainly their unlanded sons - unless, of course, they have been foolish enough to have their title removed from them." The cabin door opened, although Thane remained seated at the lone desk, examining one of three open tomes laid out upon the surface.

"What have I done to deserve this most magnificent privilege?" Thane then asked, now shifting his chair to part-face the other Human.

Her presence was now the most keenly obvious to him out of all of those on board, and was surprisingly becoming more so. Even though hers had always been the strangest, Bomoor's had remained the easiest to sense due to years of companionship, but the void Morgo encompassed was seemingly greater to him than it had then been, even beyond his apparent Force bond to Bería. Matched against her distinctive and uniquely beautiful (in her own untraditional way, at least) appearance, it was a disturbing combination to behold, as well as eerily enticing - not that he projected that, and particularly not to her.

Morgo eyed Thane from beneath her heavy bangs, blinking slowly as she stepped one foot into the room and leaned on the doorframe, “What have you done to deserve my presence? Absolutely nothing.” Morgo said, quite matter of factly as she subtly catalogued the little changes in Thane’s cabin since the last time she stepped foot here. With a bare perceptible quirk of her lips however, her pale eyes returned to Thane, the perfect picture of practised apathy, “However, it is what you will do that brings me here. That is, if you have the time to make history with me.”

His interest piqued, Thane turned himself to fully face Morgo, his eyes narrowing as he examined her physically and her words mentally. "I have the time to listen to sense, but not riddles," he said, "so say what it is you want, my Lady, and say it clearly." If there was one thing he was certain of with Morgo, it was that she would only approach him out of some purpose to herself. If it benefited him at the same time, that would definitely have to be the angle she now exploited.

A sly smile played across Morgo’s wine red lips as she arched an elegant brow, “We Dromacheans have an eye for history, and the makings of what will become history. My eye happens to be fixed on Axion and his cult—the first truly organized resurgence of Dark Siders since Krayt’s One Sith, as far as I know. And while they are not Sith, they still are of the Force, and thus they are of my concern.” Tilting her head as she studied Thane and his easy posture within the domain of his own room, exuding the subtle confidence of one in his own territory, Morgo’s voice became thoughtful, “If you remember reading from my file, House Le’Shaad was and is tasked with the responsibility of protecting and expounding upon the knowledge of the Force. And as the Scholar of my house, it falls upon me to do so. Imprisonment and my fugitive status are no excuses to idle.”

Flourishing her slender hand, Morgo’s laughing eyes locked with Thane’s—gray against blue, “Which is where you come in, Lord Verus.” Morgo said, not a hint of mockery in her low voice, “A Jedi Knight, gone rogue, consorting with forbidden Sith holocrons to learn its dark secrets for the greater good—the leader of our sad, rag tag company, in search of the Kaiburr shards to help him defeat Axion and his dark cult. Ever steadfast in his mission to save the galaxy from Axion’s destructive chaos.” Morgo finished, in a bard-like fashion, crafting legends and tales from her silver tongue.

Humming lowly, in a manner that conveyed undivided interest, Morgo stepped forward so that she was standing completely in Thane’s cabin, the smell of old tomes in the air and a subtly masculine scent that Morgo knew was distinctly Thane and no one else, the doors automatically closing behind her.

“History will want to know more, Thane.” Morgo said, something unreadable glinting behind her eyes, “And I exist only to serve Knowledge, in all her forms.” Sliding the datapad from within her wide, blue sleeve as she spoke, Morgo raised a dark eyebrow at Thane, “The only question that remains is whether or not you will be obliging.”

Throughout her monologue, Thane had listened with keen interest, eyebrows rising slightly as she spoke and mind absorbing the various points she made, the shifts and deft turns in her speech. A small smile had formed as Morgo spoke, partly because he found her points interesting, but largely as a result of the manner by which she was approaching them, impressed and disdainful of her charismatic talent simultaneously. He remained pleased that he had saved her from the authorities.

"There's no denying your persuasive ability, dear Duchess," he replied. With most people, even many of those with intellects that rivalled Morgo's, a Jedi of his or Bomoor's calibre could sense thoughts or at least intentions, able to know what general purpose drove them. Morgo, however, was something quite different. Her near-absence in the Force (because, in a way, it made her clearer in the Force) meant it was hard to sense those things within her, only every now and again grasping the odd thought or feeling, like a rogue object being thrown out of a vortex. For now, he had to rely on his own personal abilities of deduction, which were good enough, but nothing was quite certain with this particular individual. Even so, it was oddly refreshing.

"And I appreciate the flattery, as misplaced as it may be, and whilst I'm happy to go on at length about myself," Thane deadpanned, "what is it you actually want to know?" As he posed the question, he rose up from the chair and collected a bottle of blood-red liquid from a shelf by the bunk, as well as two metal tumblers that each cabin on the Raptor seemed to come with. "A spiced ruby wine," he explained, filling one tumbler and offering it to Morgo. "It is in fact a Caanan vintage I was recently able to procure, although it was more expensive than it had any business being." He would have preferred it in a flute, and made a note to purchase some later.

After considering the offered wine for a moment, Morgo accepted the metal tumbler—though did not drink. She was here on business after all. And while Morgo was certainly not against mixing business with pleasure (many of her fondest memories included debauching business), this was...different. For her purpose in this visit, alcohol was ill suited. Though Thane could most definitely benefit from a looser tongue, Morgo thought to herself, amused.

But there’s a special ring in whatever Hell exists for people who waste good vintage, Morgo's mind unhelpfully supplied. Resisting the urge to roll her eyes at what an utter lush her hindbrain was, Morgo brought the tumbler to her lips and sipped of the exotic spiced wine—which coated her tongue like the deepest velvet before sliding down her throat, leaving a pleasant tingle in its wake. There, Morgo thought testily to her hindbrain as she savored the subtly sweet after taste of the surprisingly good wine, nothing wasted.

Watching Thane over the rim of her drink, Morgo blinked, “What do I want to know?” she repeated, setting the tumbler full of wine down before inviting herself to sit on Thane’s bed, feeling the mattress dip beneath her weight, Thane’s scent wafting into the air again from his sheets, “I want to know everything.” Morgo hummed, gray eyes content and watchful, “Starting with why you are hunting Axion and his cult. If I may.” She added, unerringly polite with a faint smile, readying her datapad for use.

"Is this truly for posterity's sake or your own?" Thane asked, not aggressively but truly out of interest before he waved his hand slightly lazily. "I suppose it does not matter." He took a breath and leant back, considering what he was going to say. "The Reborn Jedi Order would have people believe I do this purely out of revenge," he explained in his clear voice, maintaining eye contact with Morgo, "for the very fact it was Axion who attacked my home when I was but a young child, stealing away my mother and brother and leaving my father emotionally in ruins. Sufficed to say, it was Axion's actions - to get the Kaiburr shard that I now know was the jewel within the Sceptre of Saaphia - that more or less led to my membership within the Order... and I suppose it is now this resurgence of his cult that has aided in my departure from it."

A slight smile touched upon his pale features as he considered that ironic thought, taking a sip of the win before continuing. "But it is not because he simply inherently wrong or immoral that I hunt him now - otherwise I would be gutting next to every member of the Senate - nor is it simply for the revenge the Jedi fear so vehemently, for whilst such a motive is pure and driven, it would indeed lead to self-ruin and would make me no better than Axion himself. I hunt him now to end something that could do tremendous ruin to the galaxy and trillions of innocents for no good purpose." As the Caanan Human spoke, his voice had become slightly sterner and he was sitting more forward and upright. "He is a man driven only by his own selfishness and self-serving desires for power and twisted glory, and in his hands the Kaiburr shards could provide him with immeasurable power, and therefore allow him to immeasurable damage as well." Thane shook his head. "It cannot be allowed, for too easily could he abuse that power - and I am certain he would - for no noble or even misguided reason."

Thane's disgust for such individuals was clear in his tone, but he let it pass as he settled down again on the chair. "Finding him would also allow us to locate at least some of the Kaiburr shards in the galaxy, to protect them from people such as him abusing them." As he said the words, he began to wonder what he would indeed do with the shards should they come into their possession. He certainly had no intention of handing them over to the Jedi, but equally had no wish to entrust them to any other. Arguably, destroying them would be the best course of action - although they may serve other more practical purposes, if utilised correctly. He frowned at the thought... but did not dismiss it.

Casually, he brought the wine to his lips again and drank slightly more deeply, enjoying the spicy richness of its flavour as it slithered down his neck. One of the many pleasures the Jedi had always discouraged him from enjoying, but amongst those he was quickly indulging more frequently. The operatic music that he had quietened when Morgo entered picked up a notch, reaching a dramatic climax (that truly deserved more volume) that pleased him.

Morgo nodded to herself as her fingers danced away on the datapad. So Thane meant to kill Axion then, and somehow end his cult. Pale eyes flitting up to meet Thane’s, Morgo crossed her long legs as she spoke, voice level and somewhat distant.

“So you have given up on your mother and brother? Is justice and galactic order all that remains for in this quest?”

"They're certainly more important than my personal problems," Thane retorted quickly, although he settled again as he considered what she had asked about his family. He thought about what had become of his father after Axion's attack, of what had first been an obsession with uncovering the truth behind accounts of his wife and youngest son's capture but soon turned into depression as he resolved they had been killed, that the ones who said they had been taken were mistaken.

As he considered how he might properly reply, he then kept his gaze level on Morgo, asking, "And what motives would you have for me in this 'quest? What do you believe I should be doing?" As he drank from his tumbler, he looked at the other Human with keen interest, not aggressive in his queries.

‘Thane considers his captive family to be of a lower priority than galactic order and justice’, Morgo typed, ‘His wording suggests that it is still a personal problem for him but that he doesn’t give it much thought. Is he suppressing his concern? Believing the happenings of the external world more important than his internal reality?’

Switching to the margin of the datapad, Morgo added: ‘Make note to not be around when Axion inevitably uses Thane’s captive/dead family as a taunt/threat in a suitably climactic battle. Suppressed emotions make for an explosive show. Tedious, really. But entertaining.’

Resisting the urge to tell Thane that his personal problems were in fact, no less important than galactic order in the long run—that believing it to be trivial was probably going to come back to bite him in his pert, ex-Jedi ass, Morgo sighed (she wasn’t his therapist after all—that she did for a fee) and looked up at Thane, his expression expectant. Steepling her fingers, Morgo quirked an eyebrow.

“What I believe you should be doing doesn’t matter.” She said simply, only because the things she really thought he should be doing were either far too ridiculous to even be conceived, or far too wrapped up in her own schemes for her to reveal.

“But I will say that you’re well on your way to becoming a heartless bastard.” And raising her hand as if to stop him from rising out of his seat in fit of self-righteous rage (which many were prone to do when Morgo informed them of this fact about themselves), Morgo smiled, “But no need to worry. That’s a good thing.”

Thane raised an amused eyebrow. "I wasn't going to disagree," he said simply. "It's the ones who let their hearts rule their minds - particularly in terms of policy - that end up making the galaxy a worse place for us all; pretentious, naive, ineffective and chaotic. Of course," he went on, almost conversationally, "there are those amongst us who fancy themselves heartless and subtly in-tune with all around them, when in reality they are more opaque than they believe themselves to be. 'You can always trust a dishonest man - or woman - to be dishonest'."

He offered a small, sarcastic grin as he raised his wine to her before finishing off the last of tit. Rising, he put the empty tumbler on the side to be cleaned later. "Perhaps we could speak now about more practical matters?" Thane turned back around and reclaimed his seat. "Like ensuring your continued usefulness beyond that of medical purposes - not that I'm not grateful for your kind and charitable contribution to the team," he added with a raised hand, mockingly delivered albeit in a serious tone.

Morgo smirked as a dark eyebrow raised on its own accord. So Thane was trying to get cute now, was he?

“Trust a dishonest man or woman to be dishonest? I suppose.” Morgo said cooly, “Except of course, if he or she has been dishonest about being dishonest—then who can say what you can trust and what you can’t? Both honesty and dishonesty would abound together, intertwined. Hardly opaque I’d say, Thane.” Morgo tsked as she crossed her legs the opposite way, taking up her tumbler and running her fingertip across the rim in an absent manner.

“And on the matter of my continued usefulness,” Morgo continued, recognizing the beginnings of someone about to ask something of her, something that always made Morgo wary, “I wasn’t aware I was required to do more than I already am.”

Morgo would have outright refused whatever Thane was about to ask had she not been aware that her favor with him would have suffered. Not that Morgo would have cared much either way, but she was not blind to the reality that the moment Thane ceased to be amused by her intelligence and insolence was the moment she might be left on the nearest inhabitable moon—or prison cell. He seemed to be reasonable enough in taking her in, but Morgo did not mistake that for kindness. Here but for the grace of Thane, Morgo thought dryly.

Wonderful.

"No," Thane conceded, "but you're intelligent enough to recognise that you remain here largely at my pleasure, because I find you useful and amusing with interesting insights. Certainly, there will probably be opportunities for you to betray me or the others in the hopes of escaping, but I'm certain that's far more dangerous than whatever existence you forge alongside us. Besides, what I'm to ask is hardly pushing the boundaries of our 'relationship' too much, although you might have your own twisted reasons for deception - belief that you're withholding cards that might win you whatever game you are playing at a later date. I would like you to dig about within your plethora of contacts and secretive webs to see if you can uncover anything about the Cult of Axion or the Kaiburr shards."

The former Jedi pulled a data chip from within his dark grey tunic, presenting it within his fore and middle fingers for Morgo to take. "It has all of the information I've managed to drag together in the past few weeks concerning Axion, his cult and the shards. It's not as much as I would like, but if it were truly that simple, he'd have all of the shards he was after by now. I'm not asking you to divulge the names or locations of your contacts - I would of course appreciate them - but to simply learn whatever you can for us. You never know, if we manage to defeat Axion and move on from this mess, I may well be able to help you... Well, not necessarily clear your name, but certainly improve your situation." Thane left that last part purposely ambiguous. He had no genuine plans as for what he would do following their potential success against the Cult of Axion, but something about Morgo's situation presented itself as a challenge, or at least something that could be used in some ulterior way.

Those, however, were details for a later time.

Morgo turned her head away as she smiled—a bright thing, with the barest hint of pearly white teeth, covering her amusement quite poorly with a sip of the Caanan wine. Then again, if she truly wanted to hide how completely hilarious she thought his attempt at persuasion was, Morgo would have tried harder. Though she really couldn’t blame the poor man. He’d been taken from his aristocratic home at a young age to become a Jedi, hardly enough time to fully learn the ways of the high-born and all their tricks, charms and wiles.

Turning back to look at the data chip between Thane’s calloused fingers, Morgo let his hand hang there in the space between them as she gazed at Thane, her spiky black lashes fanning low as she blinked slowly.

“Tell me Thane, if this is correct. You want me to sit at the center of my web, and pluck at every thread until they dance for you. You want me to, in a sense, lend you my inter-galactic contacts that I’ve spent my entire life ensnaring, all to help you in a quest that is not my own? And for what,” Morgo let out a short bark of laughter, “The vague promise that after this is all over, presuming you survive, you’ll ‘help’ me improve my situation? You, a lowly rogue Jedi with little to no galactic influence whatsoever?”

Setting her tumbler down, Morgo slid the data pad off her lap and leaned forward, bending herself closer to Thane, “If you’re going to threaten me Thane, threaten me.” She said, eyes bright with something unnameable, “But if you’re going to make me a deal, then you’d better offer me something better than that.”

Thane gave a small chuckle of his own in reply, a sound that had almost had an evil ring to it, and slightly unexpected. "You make it sound as though you already have a better offer," he chided her. "Besides, I didn't say that I would help you, nor to what extent - it was merely a courtesy that I may well indulge if the time and opportunity should ever come, because you never know when this quest for 'galactic order and justice' might turn into something more." He now rose from his chair and moved to stand by the door. "As for threatening you, there really is nothing I need to say to you on that front; you know well enough how precarious your situation is without me needing to remind you - I was merely offering you the opportunity to have a shred more dignity when looking to use you."

His tone had become sterner and his face lacking some emotion. The conversation with Morgo had taken turns he had not expected and that he knew they were ones that should perhaps bother him more than they were. In actual fact, they had simply led him down the trails of thought he had been having more and more of recently, of applying himself in more ways than self-appointed vigilante.

Pressing the control to open his cabin's door, he set his attention back to Morgo. "If you decide there may be some merit in assisting the sole heir to Caanus, rather than simply being a glorified prisoner, I would be happy to discuss any potential findings," he said politely, "but as always, it was a pleasure speaking with you, my Lady."

As Morgo stood, slipping her datapad back into her sleeve, her michiyuki flowing around her, she stepped around the bed so that she stood directly behind Thane by the door, his wish for her to leave apparent.

“And if the rest of Caanus bargains like its ‘sole heir’ does, abandoning the offered issue and repeating what has already been said and established, I fear no one will see merit in assisting her. Not in the real world, at least.”

Stepping around Thane so that she was halfway out the door, Morgo turned once more so that she faced Thane— his dark hair swept back, handsome in his own way, and blue eyed—looking so much like someone else she knew. Another overreaching, aristocratic bastard. Distantly, Morgo wondered if there would ever be a man in her life who wouldn’t try to use her for free. Without even the dignity of a two-penny whore. At least a whore got paid for her troubles.

My sons and my daughters. From your womb, Morgo. Whether you wish it or not.

Two syringes, my girl. This one’s for your cells. If you behave, I’ll give you the one for the pain.

Blinking slowly, trying dispel the smell of disinfectant, drugs, and expensive alcohol from her memories, Morgo smiled to cover the sudden, dull throbbing of her needle point scars.

“When you learn how to properly ask for someone’s help and the meaning of reciprocity between crewmembers, come find me. I may have something for you. Even without your data chip.” Pink tongue darting out to wet her lips, something hard flashed behind Morgo's eyes as she stared impassively down at Thane, “And allow me to clarify something. I am not your prisoner, for you do not hold my chain." She informed him lightly, as she would the weather, "Try to yank it again and you will regret it. You are not my only ally aboard this ship, Thane.”

And giving him her most artificial of smiles, Morgo inclined her blonde head and left, quiet as a shadow down the corridor.

As the door swept shut, Thane's typical half-smile took shape on his face as he reclaimed his seat and returned his attention to his tome. "You have no allies, Duchess," he said quietly with no fear at all of the others on board, the music once again building up to something climactic. "Not real ones."

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