ᴘʀɪɴᴄᴇss ᴋᴏʀɪᴀɴᴅ'ʀ (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
thenameofscreen) wrote in ![[community profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/community.png)
farbeyond2018-12-31 05:54 pm
thenameofscreen) wrote in farbeyond2018-12-31 05:54 pm
✦ •||• Fateful Meetings
(ooc: Just a note, I forgot to ask if you had a style preference, but I can match either action spam or prose! My default is action-prose, just because of the time I've spent on DW, but I also do a lot of prose on the side, so let me know which you like better. :) )
[ Most of her life had been spent living under Galra rule. They'd invaded her home world when she was still just a child, bringing the planet under heel through force and technology. Her parents had been among the first to fall, though not before sending her brother away for his protection. Her elder sister had inherited the throne after their deaths, and life as Tamaran once knew it came to an end in short order.
Exotic, deadly, tropical jungle was soon tamed and colonized, Galra structures dotting the landscape of the once savagely beautiful planet. The royal palace that had been her home no longer recognizable with the additions of Galra tech, spires rising from parts of the structure, and flags of the empire being flown where once there was no such heraldry.
The worst blow came, however, shortly after Koriand'r came of age. For the sake of their people, Komand'r had insisted, she had no choice. She had been presented with the ultimatum, her sister or her people. Koriand'r had fallen for the deception easily, and was taken into the custody of the Galra in short order.
Since her enslavement to the Galra she'd been forced to do many things. It largely consisted of fighting on their behalf, but never as an equal or even a soldier. She was treated as a weapon, to be deployed as they saw fit and stored away when not in use. She was never granted the freedom of roaming the ship on which she spent her days when out of combat, nor was she granted any level of respect for her service or skill. Once, the former princess thought that to be the greatest insult she was asked to endure, but she'd never protested such treatment, believing her cooperation to be essential to the survival of her people. She might have continued that life until her dying day, had the Galra not finally asked her to cross a line that she refused to cross.
Planet Atania was a harrowing experience, start to finish, but what stood out as the worst part of the whole ordeal was when the soldiers and sentries had turned their attention on the villagers. Their military forces had already been defeated, and the Galra had set about setting up base as they always did. When villagers were caught stealing supplies, however... she'd been ordered to track down the culprits and deal with them- under strict supervision, as always. Upon finding the thieves she'd been horrified to learn they were mere children, and yet the commanding officer accompanying her still demanded "justice", that they make an example of them for stealing from the empire. "Stealing", he'd said, as though the food they'd stolen hadn't been rightfully theirs to begin with.
There was no choice to be made. Koriand'r had done what she'd done, and the only regret that she had was knowing there was little that she could do to protect the village. In one last ditch effort to shield them she'd returned to the Galra base camp and wrought as much destruction and havoc as she could, to give them somewhere else to focus their anger, and a grand show she'd made of it, too, lest they think it had been anyone else's idea. Afterwards she'd fled in the opposite direction with the hope that they'd give chase, and they did not disappoint. Battered, bruised, and wounded, she'd been forced to take shelter on one of the planet's many moons knowing that it was just a matter of time before they tracked her down.
With Galra ship activity on the defensive anyone with a brain would keep their distance and give the area a wide berth. Neither help nor helpful distraction would not be coming, she's sure, wittingly or not. ]
[ Most of her life had been spent living under Galra rule. They'd invaded her home world when she was still just a child, bringing the planet under heel through force and technology. Her parents had been among the first to fall, though not before sending her brother away for his protection. Her elder sister had inherited the throne after their deaths, and life as Tamaran once knew it came to an end in short order.
Exotic, deadly, tropical jungle was soon tamed and colonized, Galra structures dotting the landscape of the once savagely beautiful planet. The royal palace that had been her home no longer recognizable with the additions of Galra tech, spires rising from parts of the structure, and flags of the empire being flown where once there was no such heraldry.
The worst blow came, however, shortly after Koriand'r came of age. For the sake of their people, Komand'r had insisted, she had no choice. She had been presented with the ultimatum, her sister or her people. Koriand'r had fallen for the deception easily, and was taken into the custody of the Galra in short order.
Since her enslavement to the Galra she'd been forced to do many things. It largely consisted of fighting on their behalf, but never as an equal or even a soldier. She was treated as a weapon, to be deployed as they saw fit and stored away when not in use. She was never granted the freedom of roaming the ship on which she spent her days when out of combat, nor was she granted any level of respect for her service or skill. Once, the former princess thought that to be the greatest insult she was asked to endure, but she'd never protested such treatment, believing her cooperation to be essential to the survival of her people. She might have continued that life until her dying day, had the Galra not finally asked her to cross a line that she refused to cross.
Planet Atania was a harrowing experience, start to finish, but what stood out as the worst part of the whole ordeal was when the soldiers and sentries had turned their attention on the villagers. Their military forces had already been defeated, and the Galra had set about setting up base as they always did. When villagers were caught stealing supplies, however... she'd been ordered to track down the culprits and deal with them- under strict supervision, as always. Upon finding the thieves she'd been horrified to learn they were mere children, and yet the commanding officer accompanying her still demanded "justice", that they make an example of them for stealing from the empire. "Stealing", he'd said, as though the food they'd stolen hadn't been rightfully theirs to begin with.
There was no choice to be made. Koriand'r had done what she'd done, and the only regret that she had was knowing there was little that she could do to protect the village. In one last ditch effort to shield them she'd returned to the Galra base camp and wrought as much destruction and havoc as she could, to give them somewhere else to focus their anger, and a grand show she'd made of it, too, lest they think it had been anyone else's idea. Afterwards she'd fled in the opposite direction with the hope that they'd give chase, and they did not disappoint. Battered, bruised, and wounded, she'd been forced to take shelter on one of the planet's many moons knowing that it was just a matter of time before they tracked her down.
With Galra ship activity on the defensive anyone with a brain would keep their distance and give the area a wide berth. Neither help nor helpful distraction would not be coming, she's sure, wittingly or not. ]
no subject
That being said, it doesn't take much for her to see some logic behind his claim. The Galra have an open disdain for ANYONE not of pure lineage. This young man, whomever he is, is clearly not pure Galra. He doesn't have the look, no matter how she tries to look at it- or him, rather. The hair, the regal bearing, the lack of distinguishing marks on his face, AND the lack of any sort of growths on his head are all reason to believe that he's half Galra, at most. He may be an outcast, so far as she knew, to have to stoop to deception. ]
And what is it that you desire of me, that you would go to such lengths to reach me?
[ Because she is smart enough to know that he's likely not here to help simply out of the goodness of his heart. More specifically, she suspects he wants to use her the same way that they did, though if that's the case he's certainly taking the much, much smarter approach. ]
no subject
I will address that shortly, but first—will you tell me your name? I would prefer to know who I am speaking with.
[For all the information he had received on her, it was all related to her capabilities, her genetic makeup, and the purposes she had been used for. There was mention of her origins, yes, but a name had been deemed unnecessary data. There was only a number assigned to her.
Their time is limited, and running out, but a personal touch can have its uses. It may make her more willing to listen to him, and will certainly set him apart from other Galra, most of whom don't even deign to speak to such "weapons".]
I am called Lotor.
[He doesn't mention his title. This is not the best time to bring that up. It's really just too much to explain in the moment (and might give a very negative impression).]
no subject
And a name is simple enough. He theorized correctly, too. It's been so long since anyone has cared enough to be so much as politely curious about her name- she'd almost forgotten what it felt like to actually converse with someone. ]
I am Koriand'r.
[ His name might have been familiar to her, if her guards had bothered speaking in her presence. More often than not she was left with sentries, however. She does note this, however, like the rest of him, Lotor doesn't sound like a typical Galra name. It's more elegant, much like its bearer, and lacks the sharper or harsher sounds she's come to expect when Galra speak their titles and designations.
Perhaps, just maybe, her luck is turning for the better after all, but it remains to be seen as it depends largely on his response, which she now eagerly waits to hear. ]
no subject
Koriand'r, then.
[For a moment, Lotor remembers his last assignment, the people he had spoken with—their names. No, he can't think about that now. He cannot waver. He will put it out of his mind.
He has practical matters to focus on.]
What I am proposing is a temporary alliance. You are trapped here, but I have a craft. You have certain talents that may be of use to me. Both of us would be best served by removing ourselves from the Empire's territory as quickly as possible, for our own reasons. It's simple enough. A purely practical arrangement.
no subject
She doesn't have the luxury of a reasonable deliberation time either, and so she decides that even if she cannot trust Lotor, she can at least trust her gut. Her gut is telling her to take the offer and go while they both still have their hides intact. ]
Then I accept your proposed alliance.
[ Resisting the urge to look back the way they'd both come from, she finally begins to draw further away from the crater, closer to Lotor. No sudden movements, but there is urgency and tension visible in the measure of her stride all the same. She regards him for a moment, then holds out her hand once she's within reach. She means to shake on it, to seal their arrangement. The sooner that they've sealed this deal, the sooner they can leave. ]
no subject
He studies her approach, watchful. Her guard hasn't dropped, and his won't, either. He can see her clearly, now. Her appearance doesn't surprise him in any way, it's simply of interest.]
I am pleased to hear it.
[He regards her hand. This is a moment of trust. He knows something of her powers, after all, and what she might do to him. Fortunately, she seems relatively rational, and he is her last chance of escape. He reaches out to clasp her arm, in the Galra manner. He thinks of how deeply this would displease his father, and he is glad.]
It is done.
[After a firm clasp, he releases her again.]
We can discuss the details later. We have more pressing matters to attend to.
[Escaping this moon intact, for instance.]
no subject
And now it is his turn to return her show of trust. For a moment she isn't sure that he will, but once he does there comes a modicum of relief. She clasps his arm in turn, mindful not to grip too hard, but firmly all the same, nodding once in answer. It's time to go. ]
Then you have my thanks. Let us leave, quickly.
[ Thank X'hal that the communication device they had forced onto her still functioned. It had been damaged in the fighting and it's difficult to imagine how this might have gone had it stopped working before he found her, or during their discussion. If it holds out just a while longer she'll be grateful. ]