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| - Alderaan: The Royal Palace - Private Landing Pad The private landing pad of the Royal Palace of Alderaan sits just atop one of the lower-spires of the palace itself, and just behind the High Council building, accessable via a small repulsorlift. It is supported by stabalizers and short beams and repulsorfields which prevent any crashes from damaging the palace itself, and colored landing beacons blink incessantly along the edges of the platform. A number of maintenance droids are housed in a quaint shed for repairs and refueling of ships which belong to the various justices and lawmakers which frequent this pad, and occasionally a repair technician or important dignitary can be seen wandering around as well. The tarmac has been divided into three sections allowing for optimal use. Often gone unnoticed is a tremendous view of the mountains in the west, the dark forest to the north and the sea extending far into the eastern distance. Twilight on Alderaan is a beautiful sight to behold. No moons detract from the beauty of the stars, and from landing pad,the dimming lights of Aldera can be seen, mirroring the sky. It is on this beautiful night that a Firespray Transport touched down on the pristine tower. Now, its engines cool in the evening breeze, and its occupants, at least one of them, gaze around in unsuppressed curiosity. Liam is a small, slight pre-pubescent, facial features still effeminately childish, and bear a vague resemblance to deceased relatives. Gray eyes take in the area. Doesn't matter that it's a school night, the boy is just too excited to care. A singular figure enters from the steps below. There is a soft clash of armor on armor and a reflected light glows in the archway of the stairwell. A slender female shape appears, clad in full golden armor and majestically equipped. As it glances, it becomes clear that this is a young woman, not quite twenty but her eyes flash with a fierce and commanding light. The clang of armor draws the boy's attention. His eyes shift from the ship he arrived on, to the hallway, clutching his medical paraphernalia to his chest. But, a single woman, Liam wasn't expecting to greet, and therefore, just stands there, mouth gaping, trying to find the right words, until, "... Ugh, hi?" The golden eyes of the woman glide to the boy, wandering over his freckled face, taking in his school uniform, and lingering for a moment on his eyes, before her mouth turns up at the corners. The soft Alderaan breeze picks up a lock of hair from beneath her helm and sets it fluttering, stirs the scarlet feather on the helm's crest. The woman says, "It seems I have a guest. Did you come in that ship?" She nods toward the firespray, and her plume bobs. "I.. ugh.. yeah. The older kid brought me... I don't know his name. Wolf? I think, the Jedi called him," Liam suddenly has to check to make sure his unruly blonde curls are in place, running a free hand through them. "Are you here to... take me to the Black Lady?" There is a soft, rich laugh. "To the Black Lady? What does a youngster like yourself know of the Black Lady? Perhaps," There is a glitter in the armored woman's eye, "you have heard stories about her." "I'm not that young!" Liam says hotly, setting his back straight to appear taller. "I'm -twelve-." And, what a twelve-year-old, with hands faintly colored with drying blood and medical tools held to his chest. "I've kept up with the news... She's pretty." The armored girl gives the twelve-year-old a skeptical look. "But she has a soul of ice," she says. "Don't you know she slaughters armies and has hordes of orphan attendants?" The boy frowns in response. "The others might call my sister a traitor to the Republic, but she wouldn't have worked with someone like that!" Liam replies defensively. Effie's eyebrows rise, and she takes a step toward the boy, her golden eyes narrowing to look at him more closely. "Oh, you are a visiting relative? I should not tease you so, then. Welcome to Alderaan, young man. Wolf's guest. Is your sister one of his many lady friends?" The boy's eyes travel from Effie, to the Firespray, then return to the armored woman. "I... don't know, maybe? She's dead." Liam lets his tools slip from his grasp and clatter onto the marble landing pad. Taking a deep breath, he fights the tears that threaten to spill from his gray eyes. "I don't know.. why he brought me here, to see the Lady. Need to get back to Coruscant!" The woman takes her helmet by the crest-guard and removes it from her head, shaking a spill of golden hair free. Some half-covers her face, blown by the wind; through it, her eyes gleam golden. "I am the lady," she says gently. "Who was your sister?" The youth opens his mouth in a whisper, lost in a sharp whistle of wind. It tosses his curls astray, brushing aside just enough to draw out his childish features. In the low light of night, he is a pale, silver-eyed ghost of a Lady Admiral. Effie gives a soft cry and seems to rock backwards on her feet a moment, but she regains her balance. She takes a half-step forward involuntarily then says almost to herself, "She never mentioned a brother." Liam sniffles and squares his shoulders. Mustn't cry, he's all grown up. His voice, when he finally finds it, is soft, "She... never really talked about anything at home, either." But, taking a good look at the famed woman behind the militaristic force challenging the Republic, the young nurse notes, out loud, "I thought you'd be older..." Euphemia's eyes narrow. She laughs a short, bitter laugh. "I say the same thing looking into my mirrors," she says. "But alas, I seem to be cursed with youth. What is your name, brother of Rem Dolor? How are your parents? Rem was always very concerned for their security, I didn't find out what happened after Corellia confiscated Rem's property." "... The Viceroy moved us places. It was okay, I guess. Until, the Hutts came..." Liam takes a deep breath. A cheek sinks in where he bites it from the inside. "My parents died during the invasion. And, Viceroy L'hnnar adopted me as his ward." Remembering himself, he bows and greets, "Liam Dolor-L'hnnar, m'am." FORCE: You reach out with the Force and feel that Liam is strong with the Force. FORCE: You establish telepathic contact with Liam and transmit a calm feeling. The young Admiral's eyes soften. Pensively she stares at the boy, her eyes trained on him. She says, "The Dolor family has suffered gravely. I am sorry. Perhaps -- I do not know -- perhaps if your sister had not joined us, you would have suffered less. What about your nephew?--" A pause, a frown. FORCE: You experience a gentle feeling and think of Liam. The doctor-in-long-training raises his gaze to meet the Mediator's, soft and warm. "... My nephew? My sister had no children, m'am. At... least I don't think she did." Euphemia shakes her head firmly. "That's not so," she says. "She was a mother, as she told me once." She half-turns away, a host of emotions chasing each other across her face in a moment: anger, nostalgia, amusement, calm, remembrance. "We were very tired. We were exhausted, I more than she. She had a great deal of strength. You," the young girl adds with a glint in her eye, "look like a stiff breeze might be the end of you! But you look like her. In a way." A stiff breeze tousles his curls, brings a shiver to his body, yet the boy looks on. His face bears the tell-tale signs of confusion: was he getting a complement or something else, entirely. "I don't know." Liam breathes softly. "She never mentioned... maybe the Viceroy knows?" "Maybe the Viceroy knows," Effie echoes with a frown. She takes a step closer to the bloody-handed boy and looks him in the eye, saying with impulsive calmness: "You are, by whatever genealogy, Rem's blood. If you ever need anything, or want for anything, or are in danger, or need to hide, or flee, or talk, or --" She stops. She adds quietly, clipped and cool, "You must come to me." She concludes with a question: "Wolf's blood?" Liam nods softly, unable to simply tear his own gaze away. "I.. ugh... yeah, his." A very quick glance back to the Firespray. "The Jedi... hurt him pretty bad. He's sleeping, now." "They don't like him very much," Effie says quietly. "It is a shame, really it is. How did you get caught up in all this?" "I... don't know." Liam replies honestly, blinking. "We met on Thyferra, when the Jedi shot him down, and... then he called to me, in my head." He pauses to scratch his brow. "Needed help, so... I came. The Jedi said he was bad, but he's just angry, right? I'd be angry too, if the Jedi were chasing after me all the time, trying to kill me." Euphemia laughs a silvery little laugh. "You are definitely related to Rem," she says. "Soft hearts run in the Dolor family. My dear boy," she adds, with a little smile, "thank you. You have acquitted yourself like a gentleman. I know that is something Rem would be proud of." The boy's lips and brows quiver with emotions long suppressed. Alright, a little under a day, but that's a long time for a young person, these days. Deep breath, deep breath. Mustn't let the pretty lady see him cry. His gaze finds the marble floor and his surgical tools, abandoned there. Blast, the holoscalpel's broken, now. He bends down to retrieve it all, motions keeping emotions at bay. Euphemia smiles. She takes out a small bundle and extends it to the boy. "Here. A present. Thank you for helping Wolf; always be sure to remember Rem Dolor. You will come back to me one day, I'm sure; wear this when you visit my courts." You give your Masterwork Pearl-Trimmed Cloak to Liam. You give your Feathery Red Boots to Liam. You drop your Microscope Unit with Laser Scalpel. Liam drops his Official Republic Microsurgery Kit. Liam picks up a Microscope Unit with Laser Scalpel. Liam takes the bundle with a smile of gratitude, cheeks dimpling. "Yes, m'am." Hefting the items in his arms carefully, he performs another bow. "I'd... better get back to Coruscant before the professors notice I'm gone again." "May the Force be with you," the girl says quietly. "The shuttles are open, if you don't want to use Wolf's ship." "He doesn't seem the type who'd enjoy being woken up until he's ready," Liam notes flatly. Effie laughs again. "Do you lack shuttle credits?" she wonders. "No, my academic stipend covers shuttle transportation." Liam grins cheekily. Impress a girl with grades, he can, when all else fails. "And, the Viceroy is generous with my allowance." Effie gives a final smile, and curtseys to the boy. Her armor makes a sound of clattering protest, but she makes the acrobatic gesture nimbly, and turns to go. But all is not well with her--her breath quivers once as she departs. FORCE: You establish telepathic contact with Liam and transmit a sad feeling. Tactful. Either too naive, or simply unaware of the woman's emotions until it is too late, Liam stares after the departing woman and chews on the inside of his cheek. A boy's got a long way to go to make good conversation with proper ladies. FORCE: You experience a loving feeling and think of Liam.
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