For Amélie Biava - When you met Amarra, you were Imperial Intelligence and she was a powerful Sith Lord, with little if any restrictions on how she could treat you. With such a disproportionate power dynamic, how did things wind up going the way they did for you?
OC Interview
Thanks for asking @swtorpadawan!
Amélie leans back in her seat and chuckles darkly.
“Yeah that’s a fair question. I sometimes ask myself how I managed to swing it with the damned Wrath of all people. Talk about out of my league and a huge threat to my life.”
She hums faintly and gently thumbs at the polished band of black metal on her finger.
“I fully admit that I didn’t trust her when we were first properly introduced. I mean it’s like you were saying, Sith can do what they want and the Wrath? She sits outside of the Sith hierarchy and answer to no one but the Emperor. She even has enough authority to challenge the Dark Council. So really what chance did I have if I wanted off her ship?”
Her eyes become hard, clearly recalling stories of others that suffered at the hands of mad Sith but she shakes her head before continuing on.
“Now with any kind of relationship it takes all parties involved to make it work but I will say that she did most of the initial heavy lifting to try and reach out to me. Just looking at her crew spoke volumes about her. How many Sith do you know that have a free twi’lek with more tech skills than a Fixer, a Black Ops squad on perpetual standby, a former Jedi apprentice that happily engages in philosophical and political debates with her new master and a sadistic assassin droid? Hm... actually forget the droid. Lots of Sith would probably have an HK unit if they could. But the others? You won’t find many Sith that actually have a crew like that who are all loyal and don’t just trust but love the Sith that they follow.”
She sighs and stares wistfully off at nothing.
“You hear old stories of noble Sith and their cherished followers. Old Korribani and Ziosti legends of Sith protectors defending those that they love. Most of those stories are lost to time and Republic purges but the romanticism of those tales endure... Of all the Sith in the Empire, I've found that Amarra embodies those old tales more than anyone I’ve ever seen. She cares about those under her command and that apparently extended to me.”
A genuine smile spreads across her face, reaching her eyes and even causing her body to relax. Her deep sense of gratitude is very clear.
“So, like I was saying, once I was finally out of the kolto tank, she reached out to me. I've often wonder if she could sense that I didn't trust her and that made her reach out. Whatever the reason, she offered to find me a doc to clone me a new hand after I lost mine on Corellia. She also gave me the chance to transfer to any command I wanted. I could write my own ticket and go anywhere I wanted. She didn’t even know me at the time, just wanted to help out another Imperial citizen.”
Her eyes return to her wedding band and she cannot stop smiling.
“After looking at my options and taking a serious look at her file- which can I just say, was damned impressive? Defeated a well known Jedi Master before being named a Lord, took out the Republic War Trust, killed a Dark Councilor, won the initial battle for Corellia and personally ended a coup led by her former Master. And never once did she ever act out of personal gain. She had no interest in personal power and only wanted to serve the Empire. What an ideal,” she says with what could only be described as hearts in her eyes.
“So, I chose to stay on and became her official pilot and unofficial liaison to what was left of Imperial Intelligence before Sith Intel got set up. I worked hard getting her whatever information I could, because I felt she was the best chance the Empire had for moving forward. She took notice and made sure that my actions were always commended. Got a promotion thanks to my work and she eventually started trusting me with more responsibilities, even putting me in charge of her own personal spy network she took from her old master."
She pauses then and her face scrunches faintly as if in sympathy, likely due to truly understanding just how stressful a position like Keeper's had been, managing so many agents.
"So, truth? I got lucky. I could have died at the hands of my captors on Corellia, honestly that's probably what was supposed to happen, knowing the last two Keepers. But I was lucky because she found me. If I had been found by anyone else in the Empire, I probably would have been court martialed for being on an unsanctioned intelligence operation. But she got to me first. And I must say, I am eternally thankful that she did."
You know that feeling when you want to tell a Sith that their plan is the dumbest fucking thing you have ever heard but you enjoy living? Amélie sure does
Send 🗡️ and I will rate my muse’s danger level in several category in a number of stars out of 5. (Max: ★★★★★)
All scores are mun opinion, don’t be a jerk.
Amélie Biava
Raw power - ★★★
Amélie is not force sensitive but she does have various cybernetic enhancements which make her physically stronger than the average human. Constant training also puts her in peak human physical condition and she can easily stand her ground in hand to hand combat with species that are naturally stronger than humans.
Formal training - ★★★★★
Amélie has had some of the best training in the galaxy. Before she joined the army, she underwent training to be a fighter pilot and became a certified pilot with both small and medium sized Imperial ships. Once she joined the army, she went through basic training and then sniper school. She later went through even more training when she was recruited into Imperial Intelligence.
Combat experience - ★★★★★
She has years worth of combat experience. Her initial career was with the Imperial Sniper Corps where she had hundreds of confirmed kills. Eventually she was transferred to Imperial Intelligence and became a Cipher where she eliminated enemies both outside and within the Empire.
After joining the Wrath’s crew, she took part in securing Makeb for the Empire, the invasion of Tython, the campaign against the Revanites on Yavin IV and fought against Zakuul when they invaded the galaxy. All of this experience has made her incredibly deadly with her quick draw even rivaling the speed of some force users.
Willingness to kill - ★★★★★
With all the training she has gone through, Amélie has no hesitation when it comes to killing. It is always an option open to her and she can do it without remorse or second thoughts.
Previous victims - ★★★
Before she ever joined the Wrath or Imperial Intelligence, Amélie was responsible for the death of a powerful Sith Lord who was misusing military resources for a personal war against another Sith. During that same time she killed hundreds of Republic soldiers as a sniper. After joining Imperial Intelligence, she killed traitors to the Empire, SIS agents and key Republic personnel. After joining the Wrath, she helped to take down the Hutt Cartel, Revan and numerous Zakuulans.
Amélie Biava, the former Cipher Twenty, thinks about the Sith whose ship she is on and makes a decision regarding the direction her career will go.
If someone had ever told Amélie that she would one day find herself serving aboard a Sith’s ship- and not on a dreadnought or a destroyer, but on a personal Interceptor, she would have laughed in their face.
Sure, she respected the combat capabilities of the Sith but a long career with the Imperial Sniper Corps and later Imperial Intelligence had taught her that Sith were unreliable at best and dangerous liabilities at worst. That was how Intelligence had recruited her after all. Pushed her into a situation where she had to either follow a Sith’s orders or do what she knew was best for the Empire.
She had chosen the Empire and sacrificed the Sith.
Keeper had been impressed and what followed was a long string of assignments where she had to carefully work to undo or circumvent the orders of Sith to ensure the safety of the Empire. She had been a sanitation worker as Keeper had been so fond of saying. An unglamorous but essential function of the Empire. At least she thought it had been essential... she thought that she had been essential.
She had been wrong.
Flexing her prosthetic hand, she silently cursed Keeper and his replacement, Watcher Two. They had sacrificed her like a pawn all so their precious Cipher Nine could carry out some unsanctioned mystery assignment.
Logically, she understood why they had done what they did. Information had to be compartmentalized for operational security. But their uncaring manipulations felt far too much like being back in the Sniper Corps. Sith and Moffs had often commandeered her unit to be used as pawns in their own personal power plays. Intelligence was supposed to be different.
Sighing, she rolled her shoulders and returned her attention to the ship’s controls.
It wasn’t as if she didn’t know she was expendable. Everyone in the Empire was expendable given the right circumstances. What frustrated her was that she still didn’t know what the circumstances were that caused her to be sacrificed on Corellia. She had no idea what Nine had been tasked with doing. If she did, then maybe she could accept what had happened to her. But it was that uncertainty that continued to gnaw at her. If she was to be sacrificed, tortured and dismembered then she wanted it to be for a good reason.
The ‘mission’ used to be reason enough for her to make sacrifices of herself. She was a patriot and loved the Empire and its people. She had been prepared to die defending her people from the Jedi and Republic that had tried to exterminate them. But other Imperial citizens were far less patriotic than her and far too often acted only in their own personal interests. She wanted to think that the Keepers were not like that but she didn’t know.
The faint hum of lightsabers swinging through the air and the sound of several training remotes firing bolts caused her to frown.
She had met Sith before. Most of them were egotistical megalomaniacs. She never trusted them.
But this one... well this one was different.
The Wrath. She was proud of the straight face she maintained upon first hearing that title. Normally she would assume a Sith with a title like that would be a bloodthirsty berserker but she had been surprised.
This Sith actually seemed- well sane. She had witnessed the Wrath thinking critically, often acting more like a Cipher than a Sith. There was no rushing headlong into combat but cold and calculated decision making. It was refreshing to say the least and she had actually found herself developing a begrudging respect for her.
That respect was helped when she examined the rest of the Wrath’s crew and found that they seemed to follow her because they believed in her as a person rather than out of fear or because of her position.
The twi’lek, Vette, for instance would typically be in a slave collar and suffering the prejudice of being an alien in the Empire. But the Wrath had instead removed the collar and accepted the twi’lek for who she was, which gained her a fiercely loyal and exceptionally skilled thief and tech expert. Truthfully, Amélie felt that Vette's skills rivaled some Fixers that she had known.
Then there was the apprentice, Jaesa Willsaam. Outwardly, the young Sith seemed rather reserved and often deferred to her master. But, if rumors were to be believed, this quiet and dutiful apprentice had managed to single-handedly kill the bloodthirsty Lord Cendence. If that were true then the young Jaesa was far more powerful than she let on yet she showed no signs of wanting to eventually usurp her master’s position. If anything, Jaesa and the Wrath appeared to treat one another as respected peers that trusted each other. Oh what Amélie would have given to have that level of trust in someone during her Cipher days.
Pierce was... well he was what she would expect from a man in black ops. But he was undoubtedly skilled and she respected that. Her contacts had informed her that it was Pierce and his old black ops team that had taken the Bastion. Impressive work and she could certainly see the value of keeping such an effective squad on standby. He was certainly no Cipher but sometimes a hammer was needed rather than a scalpel. And this particular hammer only seemed to come down on the Wrath’s order and not before.
And of course the less said about that assassin droid the better. HK-51 was undoubtedly useful and she would kill to have the freedom to call her superiors a meatbag. She just didn’t much care for having a sadistic killer droid watch over them all as they slept even if it was now hardwired to obey and defend the Wrath and her crew.
They were an impressive group. All were extremely talented and all were personally loyal to the Wrath. She wondered just what it was that caused such loyalty. Vette had once mentioned something about checking in on a sister, Tivva. The way she spoke it sounded like this Tivva had been freed from slavery by Vette and the Wrath. If that was true then perhaps the Wrath had done personal favors for the rest of her crew too? But who had ever heard of a Sith doing favors for aliens, apprentices and non-force users?
She looked down to her prosthetic hand again and considered her own treatment by the Wrath.
As far as first impressions went, the Wrath had certainly endeared herself to Amélie with the unexpected but very welcome rescue on Corellia. Her memories of the actual event were still foggy but she recalled seeing the black and red blur as the Sith had cut through the people torturing her. She had never been so happy to see one of those mad force users.
After Corellia, she had awoken in a kolto tank to find her wounds in the process of healing and her hand missing. By the time Amélie had recovered enough to move about on her own, Corellia and the new unit she had been assigned to had both been lost. Not that she would have been able to return to active duty anyway with her missing hand. But that had been when the Wrath really surprised her.
The Sith had offered to find specialists that could clone her a new hand.
That had caught Amélie completely off guard. In truth, she had been concerned that the Wrath might be planning to do something perverse to her. Why else would a Sith take a single lone soldier back aboard their ship? But no. The Sith had apparently saved her simply because she was another Imperial citizen that happened to need help. It was all so bizarre.
Preferring to get back to the fight as soon as possible, she had turned down the offer in favor of the prosthetic she now wore. The Wrath had accepted her decision without question and had even given her a free pass to transfer to any posting she wanted. It should have been the chance of a lifetime, something to instantly jump at. And yet she found herself uncertain what to do. She wanted to serve the Empire but where could she go that wouldn’t see her exploited like the Sniper Corps and Intelligence had?
Nowhere, she realized.
There was nowhere in the Empire she could go where her superiors would not one day choose to make a grab for power and use her as a pawn in their plans.
It was a depressing realization that left a hollow feeling in her gut as she considered her options.
She would never defect and desertion was not her style but what could she do for the Empire when it so often refused to help itself?
And so she found herself here, piloting a Sith’s ship and with no idea what she was going to do next. And yet...
She again listened to the swinging of the Sith’s lightsabers.
This Sith had eliminated the Republic war trust. She won the Battle of Corellia for the Empire. She had killed Darth Baras, ending his attempted coup. And she was now heading to Ilum in order to secure valuable resources for the Empire. Not once did this Sith show any interest in personal power. Everything that she had done and continued to do was done for the Empire not for her personal glory or ego.
It startled Amélie to realize that she didn’t really want to leave this ship. Whatever other Sith and those in leadership might be, this one actually seemed to care about the well being of the Empire. And perhaps more importantly to Amélie, she also cared for her crew.
She glanced over to the datapad with her blank transfer orders. Of everyone she had met over her career, this Sith showed the most care and dedication to the Empire. Not to any one particular Lord or even to the Emperor whom she nominally served but to the Empire itself. Maybe she couldn’t trust the military or this new Sith Intelligence to use her skills for the Empire but maybe she could trust this one person like the rest of her crew seemed to.
Making her decision, she picked up the datapad and filled out her request, hopeful that this was the right decision both for herself and for the Empire.
DEFENSIVENESS. arms crossed on chest / crossing legs / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / karate chops / stiffening of shoulders / tense posture / curling of lip / baring of teeth
REFLECTIVE. hand-to-face gestures / head tilted / stroking chin / peering over glasses / taking glasses off; cleaning / putting earpiece of glasses in mouth / pipe smoker gestures / putting hand to bridge of nose / pursed lips / knitted brows
SUSPICION. arms crossed / sideways glance / touching or rubbing nose / rubbing eyes / hands resting on weapon / brows raising / lips pressing into a thin line / strict, unwavering eye contact / wrinkling of nose / narrowed eyes
CONFIDENCE. hands behind back / hands on lapels of coat / steepled hands / baring teeth in a grin / rolling shoulders / tipping head back but maintaining eye contact / chest puffed up / shoulders back / arms folded just above navel / wide eyes / standing akimbo
INSECURITY & ANXIETY. chewing pen or pencil / rubbing thumb over opposite thumb / biting fingernails / biting lips / hands in pockets / elbow bent / closed gestures / clearing throat / “whew” sound / picking or pinching flesh / fidgeting in chair / hand covering mouth whilst speaking / poor eye contact / tugging pants whilst seated / jingling money in pockets / tugging at ear / perspiring hands / playing with hair / swaying / playing with pointer; marker; cane / smacking lips / sighing / rocking on balls of feet / flexing or cracking fingers sporadically
ANGER & FRUSTRATION. short breaths / “tsk” sounds / tightly-clenched hands / fist-like gestures / pointing index finger / rubbing hand through hair / rubbing back of neck / snarling / revealing teeth / grimacing / sharp-eye glowers / notable tension in brow / shoulders back, head up; defensive posturing / clenching of jaw / grinding teeth / nostrils flaring / heavy exhales
— LIGHT SOURCES
SUN RAYS. effervescent smiles, dandelion puffs, bare feet, beach waves, flowers pressed into books, champagne glasses, rose-gold eye shadow, boho skirts, wire-rimmed glasses, hair in loose waves, kaleidoscope eyes, sunshine in your hair, fire in your soul.
INCANDESCENT BULBS. crop tops, floral print, dancing in the rain, quiet defiance, hand-knit beanies, rosé, painted bookmarks, marble floors, cirrus clouds against a blue sky, polaroid pictures, hands held, fingers intertwined, flower crowns, baby bluebirds.
STARDUST. lace bralettes, brisk breezes, jasmine-scented perfume, books with yellowed pages, tracking constellations, sterling silver, violin music, chess games, iced coffee, glittery dresses, high heels, secret grins, midnight meetings, wishing upon a star.
CANDLE FLAMES. denim jackets, gladiator sandals, braided hair, messenger bags, movies at the cinema, stolen kisses, wax-sealed envelopes, haiku poetry, cherry wood, succulents, fountain pens, jigsaw puzzles, soft tired eyes, hidden smiles, cuddling with someone you trust.
MOONBEAMS. newspapers, over-sized sweaters, dancing shadows, fleece throws, cutoff shorts, piano chords, red wine, messy buns, embossed journals, a hint of blush dusted across your cheeks, freshly fallen snow, tranquil solitude, burning incense, light hair and dark skin.
AURORAS. combat boots, burgundy lips, infectious laughter, spiral-bound notebooks, pencils used down to the stub, ripped jeans, painted nails, cloud-watching, summer thunderstorms, hiking trails, vinyl records, film cameras, skating on a frozen lake, hot chocolate by the fire.
FIREWORKS. dancing until the break of dawn, heelys, being wheeled around in a shopping cart by your best friend, the euphoria of soaring through the air, being excited for what the future holds, group hugs, colorful tattoos, bronzer-highlighted cheeks, hugging a stuffed animal, lifting a child onto your shoulders, space buns, bright streaks in your hair.
— SENSES
SIGHT. small towns. big cities. six thirty curfews. lights that take the place of stars. blanket nests. light through the blinds as a wake up call. found family. finding a single star in the middle of new york night city. window shopping. watching something terrible and enjoying it. growing numb to the sight of injustice. wilted flowers. faded caricatures.bright, bold colours.
HEARING. crickets and lightning bugs. car engines and a / c units. a phone call to mum / dad. laughing with friends. jokes that are so bad you have to laugh. the clicking of computer keys. noise cancelling headphones. the sound of silence. muffled music from another room. drumming fingertips on a table. clicking of pens. listening to a clock and swearing the ticks get slower. ringing in the ears. the voice of someone you love. pitch shifted songs.
TOUCH. being held close during a long night. fleeting reassurances. holding hands when you’re scared. brushing fingers through strands of hair. freshly dried clothes. bruises on your knuckles. silk and satin. your favourite pet’s fur or feather. wringing your hands anxiously. snuggles. comforters in the dead of winter. nails against skin. cold metal. leather in summer.
TASTE. coffee in the morning. tea in the evening. bubblegum that lost its flavor. alcohol burning the back of your throat. homemade cooking, no matter what’s made. blood in your mouth. stale air. mint. fresh vegetables. that processed taste of citrus candy. the first meal you cook by yourself that tastes good. foreign sweets. fast food. bittersweet. sour. spicy. sweet. bitter. too much salt on fries.
So trade that typical
For something colourful
And if it’s crazy, live a little crazy
(Fashion disaster icon Cipher Thirteen is probably petitioning for a new Imperial Intelligence dress uniform. Or maybe he’s just insisting that this is the dress uniform he was issued.)
