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 Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2012 10:13 pm
Orion
"Has it ever occurred to her lady-ship that she might be a bit of a show-off?" Orion asked, faking a pout as he followed her to, and through, the doorway. Any following quip was lost on him as he entered the greenhouse. It was larger than even the estate grow-houses on Naboo, and those were actually functional. Most of what was grown here seemed to be dead, though. With no one to tend them the moisture distribution systems must have malfunctioned... that, or whoever had inherited the lucky job of managing the menial facilities of the temple had decided that a derelict temple had no more need of the plumbing.
Some things were still alive though, thing that seemed to have taken deeper root somewhere... and just like that a lightbulb clicked on inside of the Nubian boy's mind, chasing away any lingering feelings of doubt or dread that had been building up til now.
"Let's go this way!" He cried out excitedly, grabbing a fruit from one of the larger trees in one hand and Liesa's hand in the other.
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Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2012 10:26 pm
Eden
Black eyes fixed on the Bimm and stared.
...straight up of her rocker...
It couldn't be the same... could it be so simple? Still staring, Eden's vision turned inwards to the image of the woman that was burned into her memory. It couldn't be so easy... but then, why not? She'd spent years looking for the woman, tracking her movements to the best of her ability, and then she'd simply disappeared before Eden could catch up with her. For five years the woman that Whitesun had so hated, so despised, had been gone without so much as a whimper... so why wouldn't she come back into Eden's life so easily, and why not be practically handed to the Vigo.
If that was the case then her plans for the Black Sun would need to be put into play soon. Now.
"Okay." She said, coming out of her own thoughts. "I was going to have them imprisoned for some sort of ransom, but I'm sure this Sith of yours can compensate me. " Without a doubt, she will. Turning and lowering her eyes to the wall-safe in front of her, Eden took a moment to enter the pass-code and withdrew the large bag of credits that was stashed within. When she turned again she made to toss the bag to Maedris but paused, "Where you seen at Zietta's after we spoke?"
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Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2012 10:35 pm
Malo
"No."
Malo raised a hand and the cuffs in the troopers hands fell to his feet while her other hand brought up a small, physical barrier between herself and their rush. Nerves tingling, mind racing, her brows furrowed and her gaze narrowed on the commanding officer.
"I don't recall you issuing my rights. Which, as it happens, I am perfectly aware that I do have."
She didn't move, though her hand itched to call her saber. It took a moment of slow breathing to calm herself before speaking again.
"Let's review the situation: I requested to dock at this station and you, instead of giving me a simple 'yes or no' decide to fire on my ship, which is not in the best of conditions in case your high-ranking 'specialists' up there forgot to read you the reports of my unshielded, civilian-model ship, by the way... and you muscle me into this hangar at gun-point, meeting me with even more guns just before attempting to illegally seize me, and probably my ship too, without any lawful warrant of arrest, search, or seizure." Stopping then, Malo turned to look at Querty and asked him seriously, "Querty, did we get the right address? I thought this was the Republic, not the dictator, military-state Empire where honest, every-day citizens are carted off to the window-less cells without at least being told why..."
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Posted: Tue Mar 13, 2012 10:39 pm
Sam
"Don't be too hard on yourself, Cole. I'm still getting used to being back too. Besides, you can just call me Sam like everyone else." It would keep it simple, anyways, since she wasn't even sure what she was ready to be called. Certainly not any form of the title 'master.'
"I've been given permission to borrow an aid from the Jedi here..." She continued in answer of the question, though she had to turn and look for the Mandalorian, Seron. "He was right behind me..."
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Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2012 3:55 pm
Missing Score, Hangar Bay
Saul saw the blonde woman standing at the bottom of the freighter's boarding ramp tense up as the troopers jogged forward.
"I don't recall you issuing my rights, which, as it happens, I am perfectly aware that I do have," the woman said, her gaze narrowing down on Saul.
The troopers both stopped, wary of any hidden weapons they had yet to relieve her of, and then started forward again at a walk.
"Let's review the situation: I requested to dock at this station and you, instead of giving me a simple 'yes or no' decide to fire on my ship, which is not in the best of conditions in case your high-ranking 'specialists' up there forget to read you the reports of my unshielded, civilian-model ship, by the way... And you muscle me into this hangar at gun-point, meeting me with even more guns just before attempting to illegally seize me, and probably my ship too, without any lawful warrant of arrest, search, or seizure."
The woman stopped. Turned to her droid.
"Querty, did we get the right address?" the woman asked sarcastically. "I thought this was the Republic, not the dictator, military-state Empire where honest, every-day citizens are carted off to the window-less cells without at least being told why..."
"Privates halt!" Saul called out.
Just a couple feet away, almost in arms length, the troopers stopped. One of them already had the cuffs out. Saul offered a tight, small and insincere smile at the woman and approached her up to the point where the two troopers were positioned.
"I am First Lieutenant Saul Slade, XO of the Republic space station Missing Score," Saul declared, introducing himself. "You requested a meeting with Commander Cole Barranks, and subsequently offered a call sign, which, presumably, we should have recognized, except for the fact that there is no living person in our database with such a name. As such, pursuant to the Enhanced Security and Enforcement Act, which is only active during war time, and states that the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic has the legal authority to approve searches and seizures without due process and order the unlimited usage of observation droids, we are conducting a search and seizure of your ship and weapons. Whether these possessions will be returned to you, is entirely up to how you choose to handle this situation."
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Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2012 7:11 pm
Malo
...during war time, Malo glared openly at Saul, crossing her arms over her chest. Since when is the Republic at war... Then she remembered that planet and the Sith she'd found on the surface. Of course. If she hadn't spent the past five years gallivanting lawlessly around the universe then she might have clued in before...
"Listen," She started, her tone calming substantially, "There's no reason we can't cut a deal here or, at the very least, reach an understanding. "
"Now, it's not my fault that your public records on what Jedi are still alive aren't up to date... don't put my head on the butcher's block if communication between Republic and Jedi have been less than ideal over the past five years since your big break-up. However, " She paused, raising one hand to ward off any more advancement non-threateningly, "If all you wanted was a validation of my identification then that's easy. My mother is a very important Senator on Coruscant and my father is a fairly well-known business man and ex-military officer himself. If you want to confirm my identity with one of them then I'm willing to wait."
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haphazardly parked Vice Captain
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Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2012 7:26 pm
KNIGHT ARMINA RAHL -- cypher
nar shadda
--------------------------------------------
The screaming man doesn't seem like he's about to get up any time soon, but just in case Cypher kicks him squarely in the gut - it'd be a terrible pain to be stabbed in the back by a man with only one operable wrist - and twists under a fist she sense coming from behind. Straightening and taking a step forward to stand abreast with him, she knocked the man solidly on the side of his head with her elbow and thrust her free hand in front of her, fingers splayed as a Push knocked two brawlers into the crowd behind them -
Then something was wrong in Cypher's senses, not as acute Mina's, not as attuned to a particular Falleen, but still sharp enough to know that Kennero was in danger. Spinning, Cypher turns to find him halfway to his knees when someone nicks her with a blade - but she's already two steps forward, leaning towards Kennero to pull him to his feet before she's practically falling on him instead.
Cypher doesn't panic -- Cypher drops to the floor easily, letting the effects of the drug take hold and appearing as subdued as possible. It'll help later - there will be a later, and she knows this because because she's clinging to some sense of confidence she'd earned from that split-second of clarity she'd still had after she'd been poisoned...
They want something from us, too.
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Posted: Wed Mar 14, 2012 8:16 pm
Tython
Master Joelk turned around and looked at Seron squarely. He jumped at the realization that he was being put in the spotlight and took two big steps forward. He opened his mouth, ready to introduce himself, and hesitated. What was he to Master Sam? A Mandalorian? A padawan? An aide? He was under the strong impression that he was assisting Joelk's discreet leaving of the planet, which was now FUBAR. He was of no more use to her, and yet still she was stringing him along. Seron felt as though he were in both a peculiar and precarious situation. He opted for offering his name only.
"Seron Crodo. I serve the Jedi in... Multiple capacities, at this juncture."
Seron resisted the strong urge to turn and look at, or even glance at Master Joelk. She was insisting on avoiding the word 'Padawan' while doing her best to keep him within reach. This gray area was worse than the one that the companies of Mandalorians on Tython still occupied in insisting that they were Mandalorian.
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Posted: Thu Jun 08, 2017 3:48 am
The Corruo - 5 years later. Irella / Ensis
Sparks blasted from the damaged console, adding bright flashes to the orange and red hue that bathed the bridge of the Corruo. Flames ate away at the navigation sector, as small maintenance droids scrambled in an attempt to douse the fires, with little success. While the orange hue obviously originated from the burning equipment, the red light fiercely danced throughout the open space, brightening at every crackling sound of collision.
The amount of damage was certainly a waste, but nothing that couldn't be repaired in the future. You know, if there was going to be one. She wasn't too worried, though.
Irella took one step back with her right foot, bracing herself for the impact of her opponent's weapon, then pushing it away from her reach as she twirled the opposite way in order to slash at her enemy's side. The move was blocked and countered with a wide arc slash aimed for her, but Irella easily ducked under it and continued her own attack. The movement of her opponent was brutish, strong, fast, but little control to it, just a desperate, wild and violent need to kill her in every move. Irella herself, however, moved about graciously. She smiled as she danced about, for that was all this was to her, just a dance with death, to music only she could hear. An adventure unlike any other. She couldn't help but wish her teacher would be here to witness it, after all, it was for her she was here in the first place. Her mentor, her guide, her sister, her everything. Mabysyn.
She owed everything she had become to that woman. She loved everything she was and stood for. Did she love Mabysyn herself, though? She wasn't so sure. She poured everything she had in order to keep being interesting to the Anzat, an effort that had been well rewarded, but she couldn't help but think that should the Anzat ever grow bored with her, she'd have no calm about casting Irella aside. That was acceptable, though and it only gave Irella the incentive to keep moving forward at all times, to never back down, never fear. She might just be a pet, a plaything, to her... sister, but it had always been of her own free will. Mabysyn had made her powerful and in return, she would deliver her the person that had attempted to lock her up. Kept her as a some trophy. Kept her starving. Ronyo Storm.
The Corruo was still one of the largest and most powerful warships in the known galaxy and most important, due to Ensis' war with the republic and the Jedi, it contained all the information needed to find the Jedi's location. Their home base, Tython.
It had been easy to infiltrate the usurper Empress' stolen flagship. Ensis' distaste for the Imperial military had turned many against her. Ensis had only kept them alive in the first place, at the time, due to her apprentice, the former Grand Admiral. It had been easy to find many willing to betray her, many willing to proof their loyalty to their former and rightful ruler. Darth Venia. Ensis had thought not to need anyone to destroy both the Jedi and any Sith and though Irella had thought her foolish for it, perhaps she had been right. Ensis was a frightening entity in the Force, but Irella was a weapon created by Raven and Venia and forged by Mabysyn. She would not lose.
Ensis no longer looked the part of a beautiful ruler, her skin sunken and cracked, every bone visible in the husk that was once her body as the dark side consumed her very being in an unending rage. She was a behemoth of power, as frightening as her appearance, but her lack of control made Irella all the more confident as the battle continued on. She devoured every bit of energy lashed out by Ensis as Irella infilitrated her unprotected mind with tendrils of the force, continued to strengthen her own energy and vitality with every bit of power the Empress wasted. She didn't get hungry for it, like the Anzat did, but she craved it nonetheless, the rush of draining the very life force from your opponent. There was nearly nothing as intoxicating and thrilling like it, to be found in the galaxy.
At last, the opportunity presented it self. Ensis stood before on top of a row of consoles, ready to strike downwards at the petite blonde woman. Irella unleashed a powerful force barrier, deflecting the saber and leaving the Empress wide open. The blonde thrusted her saber forward and plunged the plasma beam straight through Ensis' heart.
Irella bit down on her lower lip, the body of Ensis falling backward down to the floor. She could feel the life force ebbing away, dying down as rapidly as Ensis' body hit the floor. It felt great.
A large blast of power took Irella by susprise and pushed her to the floor, a powerful wave of dark side energy washed over the bridge and shattered all window panels. Blast shields slid down in emergency as Irella tried to drag herself away from the whirlpool of darkness that errupted from Ensis' fallen form. She took a deep breath and coughed as her lungs recuperated from the sheer pressure of the hit.
"You little b***h..."
Before her, Ensis rose from the smoke and debris, lightsaber firmly clutched in her hand as she attempted to ignite the failing blade, it's crystal shattered in the explosion of dark side power. Her form was no longer the monstrosity she had become during the fight, if anything she appeared strangely mortal to the eye. No longer powerful, serene or confident like a queen, but broken and empty, yet angry still. She collapsed before Irella, not looking nearly as wounded as what Irella had caused to her, whom while standing up to her feet, hadn't even felt threatened by the surviving usurper Empress despite her miraculous survival. Irella's gripped her saber tight, contemplating on whether to still end her now or to bring her back as a throphy.
Either way, her mission was a success. The Corruo was under her control and she would return it to the rightful owner. Well, right after her crew and Corruo's crew still loyal to Venia, would be done with repairs.
Either way, she thought, brushing off dirt from her red leather armor. "I'm coming back home, Mab... please do be patient."
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Posted: Mon Jun 12, 2017 10:55 pm
"I'm not her damn cuddle-nexu," Kal muttered, deep in the bowels of Royal Testing and Training.
Royal Testing and Training was known as RTT in Royal Security Forces lingo. Kal did a fast reassembly on an S-5 heavy blaster pistol, hands sure and rapid as the pieces slotted quickly back into place. B Range echoes with the hard-alloy clack-ker-chack of weapons coming apart and going back together. RSF Seven had C Range, RSF Four's usual haunt, but schedules were tight these days. No one complained.
"Should have flattened her..."
Kal's commanding officer peered down the sight of her own heavy pistol, aligning the sight between targets on the far range wall. The pistol was gripped in her gloved right hand. She wore a headset eyepiece strapped across her brow that was connected to an insert socket in the back of her skull. Another of Kal's colleagues, off to the left, was reading an arms computer diagnostic off of his booth screen. The CO sighted calmly.
"Usually works for me... People have this idea that because I look like a cross between a baby animal and a teenage bikini slut, everyone can line up to have a pat," the CO continued. "I find a short, bone crushing, left jab to the solar plexus usually does the trick."
"Look, sorry, Lieutenant... You need tits to be a teenage bikini slut," the colleague replied.
"You'll need a windpipe to keep breathing," the CO responded brashly.
"Stang, I wish," Kal muttered. "Thinks I'm a fellow technology geek... Long live the march of rational cybernetic progress... I don't need it."
Kal finished his reassembly, activated his own arms computer, and shoved his right hand into the sighting-glove. He pulled the headset off the hook on the wall of his booth, slid it on, inserted the connection beneath his increasingly unruly hair, flipped down the eyepiece and raised the blaster. His hair had never been so long. It had grown to halfway down his back since he'd left Coruscant, and was becoming increasingly difficult to manage these days. He didn't need all this gear, nor the new cybernetically implanted insert socket in his skull, courtesy of the Naboo Royal Security Forces.
Kal had enough combat experience and intuition with the Force to make a far cleaner shot than any arms computer could possibly calculate at close range, but it was a weapons check, so he was checking weapons, gear included, the basic RSF rule being that everyone checked everyone else's gear too, not just their own. He sighted down the open, eighty meter, low-ceilinged space, the targets showing bright and clear through the small scope. A range of holographic spheres and trajectories were portrayed, the latter according the direction the index finger of the glove was pointed in. He lowered the short ascension gun, activated the safety, and the long, empty, underground range turned blank once more, lit only by the reinforced inset glow-lights for depth perception down the length. There was a warning call down the row of booths, and then someone fired four staccato bursts that assaulted the eardrums with a familiar sound.
Splashes of vicious, smoking carbon scoring appeared in quick succession across the far wall, like splotches of quick-dry paint. Echoes racketed and then there was silence. Four holographic targets fizzled away.
"Not bad... Uneven rhythm, third out at point two, fourth scattered, adjust recoil, target acquisition down and left point four... Kal?"
The voice, calling from somewhere down the line, was a softer echo than the blaster fire.
"Trigger tension down five... Rounds per second up one... Compute it and watch the recoil on your transition," Kal yelled down the line of booths. "That E-301 kicks like a varactyl. Use a bigger power cell if you like. Keeps the nose down..."
"Gotcha, Kal..."
A deeper and stronger voice. No one ever questioned his fire analysis. He was quite literally the walking arms computer with his Sith spec ops training. He had no idea how other beings saw it, though even some Force-users seemed to struggle. How were these things difficult? Trajectories in a three-dimensional space... It was only data. Data was easy, visual data even more so, and of course if there was a firearm in Imperial or Alliance space he hadn't seen, he would have been surprised. Naboo Security Agency Royal Security Forces weren't as good as his old Imperial team at such basic things as shooting, and of course no Sith ever had to worry about recoil all that much. They made up for it in other areas, though, like lateral thinking, forward planning and the ability to avoid walking into traps because of things called "hunches"... All of these things were alien to the majority of Imperial and Sith soldiery.
So, Kal adjusted, and tried to accept their weaknesses while playing to their strengths, as he grew into this new role on Naboo.
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Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2017 12:57 am
Corruo - Sith Space
Admiral Rice strode along the vast, echoing expanse of the hangar, eyeing the commotion. The scene was a confused jumble of loading flatbeds and personnel carriers, amidst throngs of people. Most of the folks that were present were heavily armed, but some only carried pistols, bad language notwithstanding. About the hangar entrance to the larger Corruo, armored shock troopers formed a protective cordon, weapons at the ready. Cidreay noted that they were in full battle gear.
Cidreau pressed his lips to form a thin, hard line as he strode. He was losing patience.
"Admiral, what's the plan?" First Lieutenant Ajadana, a Falleen, asked.
The Falleen Imperial Officer was in standard "away dress" for on-duty personnel, light armor hidden beneath combat blacks, rank and Reborn patches prominent, as was the heavy blaster upon her right hip. About and behind, five shock troopers under Ajadana's command were similarly dressed. Cidreau could smell the tension as the echoing grew louder. These were men and women who had seen combat against the Alliance. They knew how to handle high-powered weapons and armor. An Imperial coup d'état was something else entirely. Neutrality was an odd concept to Cidreau. Him being neutral implied that the Corruo was not, and the implications of a split between two parts of the decrepit Imperial Fleet were frightening to any true servant of the Empire. He could feel the unhappiness radiating from his escort as they walked.
The First Lieutenant had requested full battle dress, like the Corruo shock troopers. The situation between the Reborn and the Corruo was becoming intolerable. It wasn't supposed to be like this. In all the military stories Cidreau had devoured as a boy, the various units of armies were invariably united, bonded together in the service of a great and powerful state representing great ideals. There had been competition between various units, and occasionally rivalry.
"Neutrality... We want confidence, not aggression," Cidreau said. "Aggression will provoke a hostile response. We are neutral. You shall only strike to defend yourselves. No more..."
There was never outright hostility. The Imperial Navy, however, had grown into a strange beast, indeed. During five years of war against the Alliance, individual ship captains were often separated from their battle groups for months on end. Command decisions were usually made in isolation. Captains interpreted orders and followed personal hunches.
Alone and isolated in hostile space, ship loyalties became fierce. Loyalties to one's own commanding officers was the fiercest, above all others. Now, to make matters worse, the Corruo had just cut off all official contact with the Reborn. After careful deliberation with his bridge crew and away team, Cidreau had launched a shuttle and broadcasted his intent to land peacefully aboard one of the ship's hangar bays under a banner of peace, garnering no response from any of the crew, although Cidreau took them not getting blasted to bits as a good sign. There was no welcoming party to meet their arrival in the hangar bay.
Cidreau arrived at the ramp that led up the entrance to the larger infrastructure of the Corruo. At the top of the ramp, the main airlock was magnetically sealed, and further guarded by several shock troopers. The foremost sergeant saluted. Cidreau returned the salute. He couldn't make out the face of the soldier behind the unwelcoming face plate and breather.
"I'd like a word with Empress Ensis," Cidreau said to the foremost sergeant confronting him.
"The Empress is indisposed, Admiral," the sergeant replied, his voice muffled.
"I have an urgent need to address the Empress in person, Sergeant," Cidreau responded. "A prolonged delay at your dock between me and you will surely reward you with demotion. Is it your duty to seek menial labor within the Empire?"
"No, Admiral," the sergeant said.
"Please contact the Empress," Cidreau ordered.
The sergeant retreated several steps up the ramp, turning his armored back to further muffle any conversation that followed. Cidreau folded his hands to the small of his back, and waited. Ajadana and her shock troopers continued to scan up and down the enormous hangar bay, looking for anything that might give vantage to a hidden observer. While relations between the two ships hadn't turned violent, his escort wasn't taking any chances, or rather, as Ajadana had curtly observed in private aboard the shuttle, no one except her stupid, stubborn Admiral Rice was taking any chances, ordering an away mission without full armor, and wouldn't it just be her luck if a Corruo loyalist managed to achieve what Alliance soldiers hadn't managed to achieve in five years of war...
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Posted: Tue Jun 13, 2017 4:50 pm
Naboo - Royal Administration
Director Nahs Mihabri was not impressed at being called away from Operations Control to attend to his office, and the desk that resided there. It was his enemy, that desk, a broad, powerful ayalayli thornwood, made from regional plantations. Built into its firm frame was the latest communications gear with a full holographic interface. It enticed him to sit behind it and bureaucratize. Mihabri did not like to bureaucratize.
Mihabri liked to work. Bureaucracy was Captain Eirad's job, and she did it well. Mihabri preferred to work from Operations, where he could talk to his people, and benefit from their observations. He preferred to work from Intelligence offices, where he could judge firsthand the latest data, rather than briefly view what his assistants would sift for him, secondhand. Mihabri liked to feel the gears working, and watch the progress made. He did not want to read about it on his terminal. He did not want to be "informed." He wanted to know, personally and immediately.
Now, though, he sat behind his mostly bare, infrequently used desk, and waited for his office door to open. The two agents in suits who waited to the side of the room offered no conversation, nor would he have participated had they done so. Mihabri merely examined his terminal and read the latest piece of bureaucratic irrelevance that Eirad had sent him, waiting.
Mihabri was not impatient. He merely wanted the door to open soon. With a hiss, it did so. Rem entered. Orange eyes, hot and effortlessly penetrating, immediately flicked to the suited pair. His stride did not waver as he walked to a particular spot before the desk, and halted there. It was the same spot, Mihabri had noted, upon which he always stopped. Everyone had one. Familiar coworkers and acquaintances came close. Rem's spot was unlike all other spots chose by friends, distant coworkers and the fearful. It was a shade back from middle distance, but precisely to the center, unconcerned of the door.
Rem's eyes never left the two agents, until he looked toward Mihabri. The Director pushed back in his chair, studying the cyborg. In his dull RSF-issue pants and jacket, and standing, perhaps, middle-height for an Echani, he cut a less immediately intimidating figure. He looked, in fact, incongruously young, with his penetrating orange eyes framed by increasingly erratic silver hair that fell loose about his brow. Rem could have been someone's adolescent child, Mihabri thought, going through a rebellious streak against the more typical elegant masculinity found in Theed. Only the military calm in his posture, and the almost unnatural, unwavering steadiness of his gaze, put the lie to that. It challenged the mind of even the most perceptive person to comprehend precisely what he was. This middle-sized, slim, attractive young man with the mild demeanour was the most dangerous thing on two legs on all of Naboo. If he wanted any single individual within Theed dead, with the possible exception of the Queen, Mihabri doubted very greatly that it would be beyond him. Even the Queen could not be guaranteed. It was not a curiosity as to why the Royal Advisory Bureau was so frightened.
Rem's stance was more than passingly military, with his feet apart and hands clasped behind his back. Mihabri sighed. He disliked this unasked-for bureaucrat's role even more, at the moment.
"You wanted to see me," Kal said flatly, in an inexpressive tone.
"Kal, these are Agents Naraksahb and Rellum, from the Royal Advisory Bureau," Mihabri replied, flicking his eyes briefly to the pair of waiting agents.
Mihabri looked back at Rem. Rem gazed back at him for a moment longer, eyes narrowing slightly. He then looked at the pair of agents. He did not blink. Agent Naraksahb frowned.
"Mr. Rem, weesa been sent here by our superiors because today, merely a matter of hours ago, yousa caused severe damage to a Royal Advisory Bureau monitoring craft, and in fact used a restricted, military-grade application of the Force in order to do so," Agent Naraksahb began. "As a result, yousa directly caused an in-flight emergency to be registered with Traffic Central, endangered the civilian skylanes and potentially placed lives in jeopardy. Do yousa agree that yousa did, in fact, do these things?"
"No."
"Yousa deny this?" Agent Naraksahb asked, her Otollan features thoughtfully incredulous.
The Gungan was expressing a superior frown. Mihabri disliked it.
"I deny that lives were placed at risk and civilian skylanes were endangered," Kal said. "I would correct you in saying that the RAB, since you say that it was the RAB, were the cause of any endangerment or damage. I had not known that the RAB were monitoring me until now, and they have only themselves to blame. That's all."
"You just said that there was no endangerment," the agent named Rellum replied mildly, thinking himself very clever.
"Given the degree of the RAB's incompetence I've witnessed so far, anything's possible, but I can hardly take responsibility for other people's stupidity, can I?" Kal asked derisively.
"What type of Force technique did yousa use?" Naraksahb asked, unperturbed.
"It was combative telekinetics, a 'Force Pull'," Kal answered quickly.
"Meesa not a Force adept, Mr. Rem, but weesa own experts said they could not recognize what was happening," Naraksahb said, blinking. "They suspect it was in fact something yousa learned from the Sith."
"It was," Kal replied calmly.
"In which case, Mr. Rem, I am instructed to remind yousa that Section Five, Subsection A of official Security Act 91... That's the act by which yousa now legally a citizen of Naboo," Naraksahb continued. "Yousa may remember that it states that yousa continued inclusion into the ranks of the Naboo citizenry is conditional upon yousa continuing to behave appropriately and upon yousa continuing to refrain form using any of yousa so-called special skills in any manner that may adversely affect Naboo. This matter clearly qualifies. Given that the RAB and RSF are indeed working together on this matter, meesa here to lodge a formal procedure with Director Mihabri directing yousa surrender all knowledge of the Empire, the Force and yousa personal capabilities to the people of Naboo. This incident clearly demonstrates that yousa potentially lethal Imperial indoctrination and Sith training is a danger to the security of everyone on Naboo. Here is the request. Weesa trust that it will be given yousa utmost attention."
Mihabri did not like this pair of RAB agents. Naraksahb produced an official plastic folder from her bag and laid it open on the table. It contained a single flimsi sheet printed in official format, along with a storage chip in a separate pocket. Mihabri looked at the flimsi, lips pursing with mild consideration. He looked back at Rem. Rem was gazing at some point beyond Mihabri's head, out of the window. Mihabri doubted Rem was admiring the view. For a long moment, the room was silent.
"Mr. Rem, do you have a statement you'd like to make about this?" agent Rellum asked then.
Rem looked at Rellum. He did not give the agent the kind of look that most people enjoyed receiving from lethally capable Sith of any measure. Rellum, to his credit, did not flinch. He glanced at Mihabri. Mihabri leaned back in his big leather chair, steepling his fat fingers, and looked at Rellum.
"You want me to spawn a Force-sensitive, Naboo, paramiliary force?" Kal asked mildly. "Make me."
"Would you be making a threat, Mr. Rem?" agent Rellum pressed, looking back at Rem.
"Not at all... You want to learn all of my secrets and get me to transfer them to the Naboo police and military apparatuses at large," Kal said, fishing for discontent. "You make me train your people, then. You'll have to use a torture regimen to break me, or else find a more powerful Force-user than myself to read my mind. You'll also have to keep me confined, since I will surely flee if you continue on this course of action. So, you'll have to use drugs and restraints, which won't be pleasant for me. Don't let that stop you, though. Where are the troops? Are they waiting in the corridor?"
"There are no troops, Mr. Rem," agent Rellum began. "Under the written act by which you are legally a member of the Naboo citizenry, you will be required to..."
"I'm trying to protect the Naboo citizenry, you pointless sleemo," Kal interrupted coldly. "I'm the main key in the ongoing investigations to break down the remnants of the Empires undercover adept ring in Theed. You'll remember that. It was the third-biggest security breach this city's ever seen. It killed a hundred and thirty-two Theedians that we know of, and so long as the same systemic flaws remain, this entire planet remains vulnerable to further Imperial infiltration. That's my job now. It's what I'm paid for. If anyone manages to knock me off, it'll be a big loss to Naboo security, because... I can tell you, this place needs a lot of work done. As such, I'm obliged to defend myself against possible personal security breaches. So, imagine my surprise to finding an unidentified airspeeder tailing me. If I'd left it alone, I would have been derelict in my duty to Naboo, and then some other lizard from some other department would be over here screaming at me for failing to comply with the other bits of the security act."
"Yousa knew very well it was a government vehicle before you attacked it, didn't yousa?" Naraksahb countered.
"Would you like me to list the number of ways government facilities can be infiltrated?" Kal retorted. "Did you guys learn nothing from what happened a month ago? No government operative can afford to get into the habit of being tailed by people of unconfirmed identity. It's a very bad precedent and it clearly intereferes with my ability to do my duty to this planet. If you'd like to tail me, give your identities first, and I'll track you so I don't confuse you with the bad guys. I assure you, though, if I get attacked, I am required by my obligation to the RSF to eliminate all direct threats. If you're tailing me with no identification, that'll include you."
"Mr. Mihabri, can weesa expect your reply shortly?" agent Naraksahb, who had been attempting to ignore Rem for the last several seconds, asked.
Mihabri looked at the Otollan Gungan. His fingers remained steepled. His fat, jowly face conveyed a great authority. Naraksahb waited, that being her only option. Finally, Mihabri took a deep breath.
"Yousa might not like my reply," Mihabri said, the baritone of his voice quelling any immediate retort. "Meesa agents have standard to maintain. They must be allowed to maintain full security at all times."
"Mr. Director, Mr. Rem has detection capabilities far exceeding the security standards of yousa other agents," Naraksahb began. "Weesa are not requesting that Rem's security be degraded below the standard of others. Weesa are merely asking that it be equalized."
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Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2017 8:38 am
The Corruo Irella / Ensis
Ensis sat on her knees, arms held behind her back by a set of cuffs, as she peered up in to Irella's eyes the very moment the force field of her holding cell activated.
Long ago, Ensis had defeated her own Master by the order of her council's true Sith and he had drained her master of his energy to give to her own, to increase her potentiol, just as he had done for every student. She and eleven others became the new council to the one that called himself the true Sith, but only one day later, Ensis would be the last one left standing.
You see, Ensis had a talent to understand and pick up on the intricacies of weaving the Force, usually only having to see it happen once and when she had...
For all that time, she had carried the potential of everyone's force power within her, of everyone from the council and their master. It had been this power which had given her the strength to wrestle control of the Empire away from Venia and her Sith and now, this small, arrogant and unworthy blonde had somehow managed to keep up every time Ensis had increased her output, until Ensis had burned through it all. Now her she sat, defeated not by Venia herself, nor one of her powerful and cunning students, but by the pet of one.
Yet all the anger in the world would not lit the flame of the force within her again, would not even recover her own strenght. She was confined within the force tendril's of the blonde, only feeding the one formerly known as Darth Visum every time she attempted to use the force for anything, but to sense.
"My men will destroy you, witch." Ensis spat. "Then your precious Venia will be next."
Irella merely chuckled at the notion. "Venia's not the one I'm doing this for. Well, not really..."
The blonde turned away from the force field as she made her way for the exit. "But that it is of little comfort to you, for you will be my present for her." Irella smirked, looking back one last time at Ensis as she walked back to the Bridge's communication station. She disrupted any and all ongoing calls and blocked any incoming transmission for the time being as she turned on the emergency broadcasting channel to inform the entire ship.
"This is Visum speaking on behalf of Lady Venia, to inform you that your former Empress Ensis is no longer in command of the Corruo, the Sith or the Imperial Forces. Those of you who have not remained loyal to Lady Venia would be wise to surrender now, for you will be executed otherwise. I expect all crew in a commanding position to be available on the bridge as soon possible." Irella spoke through the commlink, sending her message over every speaker on the vessel. "Do not attempt to try anything funny, though." She added. "You would not like to play games with me."
Irella switched off her input to the comm station and allowed communication traffic to resume as usual. She turned back to see the small mechanic crew she had brought along had managed to gain control of the fire on the bridge and keep all vital systems running. Hopefully, in just a few days, she would be able to present both the Corruo and Ensis to Venia... and hopefully, Mab would be proud...
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Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2017 12:27 pm
Naboo - Royal Palace
"I just don't like being passive," Kal sighed, taking a biscuit from the table.
"I know," Queen Aitaka Nalien assured Kal as he bit into the biscuit. "The best form of defense is attack and all that... It's a fine philosophy for a soldier in a war, but things here are different. That's how it is. Please don't antagonize the RAB any more than you already have. Consider that a direct Royal order. It makes my life difficult."
"I'll try," Kal said as Nalien sipped her Ansionian tea. "I'll try very hard. That's the only reason you asked me out here?"
"No, I wanted to ask you in person about Councilor Ilad, and some things I'd rather not discuss over any network," Nalien replied.
Kal nodded slowly, washing down his biscuit with a sip of tea. It didn't surprise him. Ilad had been a continuing thorn in the Royal Palace's side every since his Alliance-arranged takeover of government had collapsed a month ago, setting in motion the entire present mess over Article 42 and the proposed breakaway from the Alliance. No one wanted to remain a part of an Alliance that allowed its shadowy intelligence agency to overthrow democratically elected governments while committing crimes and murder among the populace. In order to make an informed decision about any possible breakaway, however, people wanted to know just how deep the whole plot with the Royal Advisory Councilor had gone, and just who knew what at the highest levels of the Alliance Grand Council back on Coruscant.
"He's still not talking?" Kal asked, knowing the answer well enough in advance.
"He'd be stupid to," Nalien answered, shaking her head. "The moment he opens his mouth he risks implicating the entire Grand Council bureaucracy, not just Alliance Intelligence, but the Alliance Council... Ilad's their boy. He came up all the way through the system, from Andoan civil service to Andoan ambassadorship to Grand Council officialdom and a Royal Advisory Council posting, only, somewhere along the way Alliance Intelligence got their tentacles into him, like they've got their tentacles into a lot of federal officials, we think... Twenty-two member worlds have already begun appointment reviews of their own ambassadors, and are demanding full records disclosure from the Grand Council. It's caused quite a stir."
"How much power does that give you?" Kal asked, trying to recall as much as he knew about Alliance government and internal power relations between them. "How many of the member worlds are behind you? How many of the member worlds are behind Naboo?"
Kal realized he didn't know that much about Alliance politics, except that there were fifty-seven member governments, comprising roughly eighty-billion people. Coruscant's population was hovering these days at roughly 1.6 trillion, immensely powerful, by the standards of any individual Alliance world or system. If all the other Alliance world stood together, though, even Coruscant's influence could be countered.
Unified cooperation, however, was no more of a common condition for Alliance members than it had been among Imperial holdings. Nalien shook her head glumly.
"Not enough... A lot of the border worlds near the Empire are very hawkish still, very pro-Alliance, and have always accused worlds like Naboo of being too withdrawn with the war going on, with some cause, too, I think. Others are totally dependent on trade with Coruscant and good relations. It's too risky for them to stick their necks out before they know exactly who holds what cards. Right now, it's us and about nine governments. Maybe twelve in a pinch... The other forty-five governments are all on the fence to varying degrees."
"Doesn't say much for the brave colonial spirit, does it...?"
"No, if someone's going to take a hit for this, it'll be us, not them, but if we look like we're winning, things will change," Nalien continued as Kal exhaled in mild disgust. "This is why we need to beat that extradition order so badly. If the Alliance gets Ilad back on Coruscant, it'll be the last we ever see of him or his evidence. If we can keep him here on Naboo, we can try him here under Naboo law and get some answers from him."
"He'd answer?" Kal asked as Nalien grimaced.
"If we're proven right in Alliance law, according to Alliance statutes, he won't have a choice," Nalien answered. "He's still a Councilor. He's legally bound by by Alliance statutes, though. For him to refuse to answer would be incredibly embarrassing for the Grand Council. It raises the question of what good the present Alliance system really is if its own appointed guardians won't even play by the rules, which is our entire point in threatening to break away, and if he does answer, then the whole Alliance system is discredited before everyone's eyes. Ilad's the key, Kal. Trying him on Naboo would give us the proof we need."
"To do what...? Breakaway...?"
"If need be... We'll decide when we get to it," Nalien continued with a shrug. "Any breakaway needs to go to a popular vote, anyway. It's not just up to the politicians, but public opinion would swing enormously if all of Ilad's evidence were revealed. We'd have the Grand council and all the vest Coruscanti interests wrapped around our finger."
"What do you want to know from me?" Kal asked.
"What do you think the Empire will think about the prospect of him testifying?"
Kal didn't like being mistaken for an expert on the Imperial government. He'd only seen it from a militaristic and religious stance, and only then a Dark Lord of the Sith that operated on the front lines. Kal thought about that for a moment. Something else occurred to him. It was an unpleasant thought.
"Your Highness, I don't think I'm the best person to ask," Kal said.
"Kal, there's no one I can ask," Nalien replied. "Everyone else is just as removed as you are, except that you've been there. You've spent most of your life in the Empire as a soldier, both as an assassin and as a Darth. I don't want accurate intelligence. I only want your gut instinct. You've got more of that than any of the RSF's Intelligence analysts."
"Has the Empire been talking to you?" Kal asked. "Is their ambassador here?"
"I couldn't tell you if they were," Nalien said with a smile.
Kal understood that well enough. The Empire never talked to anyone in the Alliance on serious policy matters without the condition of total secrecy.
"I really couldn't tell you what they'd think," Kal began. "There are some factions in the Empire who want to see a divided Alliance, member worlds weak and bickering among themselves. Others fear a divided Alliance would tear up the ceasefire treaty and cause Alliance hardliners to come to the fore. They don't want a new leadership when they've just made peace with the old one."
Kal smiled, pouring tea.
"I think the only thing you can guarantee with the Empire is that if they talk to you, it'll be with only one set of interests at heart: Their own," Kal continued, pausing to look at the Queen with meaningfully raised eyebrows. "The economy is in shambles. They'll be wanting a possible loosening of the trade embargoes, especially if Naboo becomes independent and starts making her own decisions on these things separate from the Grand Council. Right now that self interest might go well beyond any concerns about what Ilad's testimony might do to the Alliance, and thus to Alliance relations with the Empire."
The Queen looked serenely at Kal. He settled back, taking a pleasant , hot sip, savoring the mild fragrance.
"My guess is the Empire's had enough adventures for now," Kal pressed on. "They're pragmatists. They'll be wanting a nice, slow, quiet period to rebuild the economy. Any diplomacy they do will be simple little queries, feeling out the possibilities, but, on the other hand, I can't see them missing an opportunity to stick their nose into this present mess, sniffing around for a bit. They are talking to you, aren't they? You wouldn't be asking me, otherwise."
"I ask a lot of people a lot of things, Kal, but I appreciate your insight," Nalien said mildly as Kal shot her an accusing look. "You really were wasted among the Sith, weren't you?"
"So I've been told..."
"Do you feel fully utilized in the RSF?" Nalien asked, smiling at Kal.
"I'm happy enough," Kal said, sipping at his tea. "I am still essentially a grunt, Aitaka. I always will be."
"I'll always essentially be a politician, but that doesn't mean I can't aspire to greater things," Nalien replied as she reached for the tea pot.
"Do you?"
"Sometimes, then I get over it..."
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Posted: Wed Jun 14, 2017 2:36 pm
Corruo - Bridge
The bridge was as sparse and open as any Star Destroyer's. He followed the procession of officers in, some in full or partial battle gear, others in their naval uniform. Cidreau had his uniform adorned, minus the cap. He hadn't brought it with him to the capital ship in the first place.
Now he wished he was with his cap in the safety of his own carrier, several meters of thick durasteel, deflector shielding, and a legion of troops to protect him. The Corruo was the last place that he wanted to be right now. Cidreau had stepped right into the middle of coup and he had no way to escape it now. It did not take an expert eye to see that they were standing amidst a recently expired battle. Cidreau only hoped that it would continue in the immediate.
There were small clusters of engineers scattered about the bridge, not joining the formation of officers. Cidreau could just make out the inky blackness of the void with its distant twinkling stars past the view port, amidst the flashing red emergency lights and occasional flying sparks. His escort would likely not be able to see it, having found their place further back in the crowd with the rest of the junior officers. This would not be the first time in his life in which he had wished he was with them.
As the crowd slowly stilled and quieted, Cidreau waited.
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