Print Page - CC: Imperial March

WILDSPACE TALES => Star Wars: The Crimson Covenant => Topic started by: Medivh on August 05, 2012, 11:03:27 PM

Title: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on August 05, 2012, 11:03:27 PM

Imperial March

(http://fc00.deviantart.net/fs71/i/2013/168/3/e/galactic_empire_by_emperorrus-d30lsem.jpg)

Byss, Capital of the Imperial Remnants

"Ten years have gone, and where are we? The Republic has continued to grow, continued to swell its ranks, while we are fighting for survival. Ten years since our fleet was devastated, and yet still we have not been able to regrow to our former strength. We still fight to hold onto our worlds, and the Republic has sent ambassadors to the outlying worlds. Emperor Schrag, you have failed to live up to the expectations of your post. You may have served as a tactical leader under Dementat, but without him, and without Saevia, your tactical abilities are shown to be somewhat lacking. We need new leadership if the Empire is to survive"

The discontent by the Moff Council had slowly been growing over the past years, and now, they felt confident enough - no, brazen enough - to actually make their claim against Emperor Schrag. It was in the throne room on Byss, of all places, but they had come in large numbers. Twelve Moffs, each with their own honor guard, nearly 100 troops in all, standing in front of the throne room. The Moff Council was officially a group of advisors to the Emperor (as well as regional governors) and were responsible for selecting a new emperor should the prior one die. They had selected Schrag when they and the Empire were at its weakest. The rare moment when internal intrigue gave way to a fast decision to save the Empire from total destruction.

That was long gone. Emperor Schrag rose from the throne, staring down at the room full of enemies. He was no Dementat - they could not be killed with a stare or lightning from his hands. Their act was treasonous, but if he ordered their deaths, he would be dead before the order was carried out. This was true despite his own personnel stationed about the room. His eyes glanced at the balcony were his troops stood stationed, then flickered along the base of the walls where they stood at perfect attention. How many Moffs would die before he was dead? How would his own men react if he died? would they keep fighting? or would they relent?

No, the confrontation could not end here, not like this. Instead, Schrag stared down the mutinous Moff.

"Is it you then, Moff Anish? Are you the savior of the Empire? You hold yourself out as the champion, but when I'm gone and you are in my place, would you be any better How would the other Moffs feel under your rule, as opposed to mine?"

There was an almost imperceptible murmur in the chamber, Moff Anish bristled slightly, and Schrag smiled to himself. Unified against him, they were not unified in their choice of replacement.

"Tell me, Moff Anish, when did you last command a starship? a platoon? A fleet? What military experience would help you lead us to victory? Or yourself, rather - how would you bring glory to your post, and to the Empire? And how would the other Moffs feel when their regional complaints are brought before you?"

Schrag took several steps down now, eyes glancing around the room before focusing on Moff Anish. His guards - a group of eight - placed their hands on their weapons, and the room grew tense. Schrag paused only a minute, smiling as he drew closer, but instead of approaching Anish, he turned to the soldier beside him, leaning in, and speaking, his voice calm, but loud enough that most in the area could hear.

"Soldier - you are an honorable guard of the Empire, yet you hold your gun against the Emperor. Would you shoot? Would you really kill your Emperor?"

The soldier seemed taken aback by the question. It was one thing to shoot the enemy of your leader - another to kill someone who was already your leader. The soldier shook his head.

"I thought not. Moff Anish has provided well for you, but if you are loyal to your emperor, you would turn away from him now."

The soldier seemed confused, and frightened by the prospect of choosing wrong - going against either man had its dangers. But Schrag was the Emperor, and after a few moments, the soldier nodded.

"Yes sir - I stand with you, sir"

Schrag nodded.

"Good. Then kill him"
"Sir?"

The other seven soldiers around Anish held their weapons tighter, and Schrag turned to them.
"I reward loyalty and punish those disloyal to the throne. I would choose wisely"

Anish himself was speechless as Schrag turned and began moving back toward his throne. Finally, Anish himself gave in to temptation, pulling a blaster from his side, raising it and pointing it at Schrag

Fire.

Moff Anish crumpled to the ground, the soldier's weapon still raised. None of the other seven honor guard had moved. Schrag, now standing back at his throne turned back to the crowd.

"It is an act of treason to raise a weapon against the Emperor. Moff Anish was subject to death. Does anyone in this room disagree?"

The room was silent.

"I thought so. I trust that the rest of the Moff's Council is more loyal than Anish was. That they are loyal to the Empire, to their Emperor. Moff Anish is gone. There are no more excuses. if any of you wish to be held responsible for treason as well, stand your ground. If you wish to remain uncharged, turn now and go back to your sectors, and be grateful for my mercy."

It took a great deal of confidence for a man to order others away when he was out gunned, but he had just managed to have a man with an eight-soldier honor guard killed while having his back to him. One by one, the Moffs left the chamber, leaving the eight soldiers from Moff Anish.

Shrag walked up to them, first to the soldier who had fired.

"You have protected your Emperor, despite immense pressure. You will be rewarded to join my guard post"

"Thank you Emperor"

"As for the rest of you - I will give you the benefit of the doubt that you would have done the same. I am ordering you back to your ship, your sector, to serve a normal tour of duty. I trust I will have no complaints"

They nodded, saluted, and departed, leaving Schrag mostly alone in his throne room. A red-robed imperial guard approached from the side, Schrag turning to him.

"See to it that each of the Moffs get safely aboard their shuttles - and then shoot them down. I will not have dissension in the Empire. Not from individuals who think themselves greater than the Emperor"

"Yes, your highness"

TBC

Title: Re: Circle of Freedom
Post by: Medivh on August 19, 2012, 11:12:39 PM

Byss, Capital of the Imperial Remnants

Emperor Schrag sat in front of a massive holo-board, studying the intelligence that had been provided to him on the whereabouts of Corellian and Republic vessels. The enemy's defenses were formidable now, and initiating a campaign against them would be hard fought.

Still, when one can move through space, there were always weak spots, and Schrag was determined to find them. The western border of the Republic - made up of the planets of the Corellian Sector - was among the most formidable, but the southern border, republic's connection to the unaligned worlds in the south, were much more sparsely protected, the naval forces focusing mostly on anti-pirating action, protecting convoys and the like. North and northwest were also not so strongly protected, facing the outskirts of space, though an imperial assault from Bastion might be able to make good use of the republic's weaknesses. It was in the northwest where the defenses were weaker due to republic offensive maneuvers - pressing into imperial worlds that were waivering in loyalty.

He sat alone in his quarters when he heard a knock at his door.

"Enter"

A man, bent low and covered in a cowl stepped inside.

"Darth Erinbol"

Emperor Schrag stood and made his way to the old man. With the death of both Dementat and Darth Kyja at the same time, the normal order of Sith had suffered some. Emperor Schrag was never much of one for the Force, preferring more reliable, stable tactics. Still, he recognized the strength of the dark side, and had sought to have a counselor at his side who could be trusted and knowledgeable in the Force. Dementat, in his wisdom, had formed an academy, taking those with the power of the Force to Byss and having them trained there. Never given the attention of Darth Kyja, he had left them in the capable hands of Darth Erinbol, a sage who had helped Dementat master his own abilities, and stayed out of the public eye. Schrag had drafted the old teacher. ANd now, here, he had come to see the Emperor.

"I have felt a disturbance in the Force Emperor - a great burst of power, a flash of raw, unbridled energy, just as quickly gone"

"someone has used their abilities in the Force somewhere in the galaxy?"

"oh no, Emperor - this was quite unplanned. Too unrestrained"

"many in the galaxy have the power of the Force without training. Is it so uncommon?"

"Oh yes, Emperor. This was quite uncommon. This Force signature - the feeling that I felt has rippled across the galaxy, has only been felt before by those of the house of Winton"

"Winton? You mean"

"Yes, Emperor - Darth Kyja was not the last of them. Somewhere, there is another"

TBC

Title: Re: Circle of Freedom
Post by: Medivh on November 12, 2012, 08:31:06 AM

Byss, Capital of the Imperial Remnants

"Emperor Schrag, we have received word from our contact. The Corellians have been officially admitted into the Republic, with full voting privileges"

Schrag nodded. He had hoped that being treated as second-class citizens would encourage Corellians to relinquish their support from the Republic, but Artemis Soldys had apparently been a force to be reckoned with. It meant that the Western border was all but closed off to him.

"What of the deals with the Trade Federation and the Corporate Sector?"

"Our agent in the sector has informed us that negotiations are ongoing. The Federation's work undermined Gellar's position slightly, but several other matters seem to have taken precedence, and he predicts a final deal will be coming very soon. As for the Trade Federation itself, they are still seeking approval from the Republic to trade within its borders."

"Send an envoy to the Wheel - see if we can benefit from the Federation's technologies. And maybe learn something new about their negotiations as well. I don't want to be at a disadvantage"

"Of course sir."

The officer bowed and left and Schrag again glanced over at his map. A few minutes later, another officer appeared.

"Report"

"Emperor, the ships you asked me to commandeer have been assembled. Over one hundred neutral capital ships, and a variety of discarded fighters."

"All in working order?"

"Yes, M'lord"

"Excellent - Divide the ships up into a dozen combat groups, non uniform. Order the crews to begin raiding the Republic's northern border. I don't want imperial formations being used - the Republic is to mistake them for pirates"

"Understood, M'lord. It shall be done"

Schrag was left alone again - or almost alone. He turned away from the map now to the figure in the shadows behind him.

"Darth Erinbol, some might find your presence a bit unsettling"

"Silence is a virtue, your highness"

Schrag shook his head, lightly rolling his eyes. Erinbol deigned to use theatrics to seem more impressive, but in truth, he was an old man. A gifted old man, but not the force to be reckoned with that Dementat, Lady Kyja, or .. well almost any other sith had been.

"What more do you have to tell me?"

"I have learned that the girl has begun expanding her influence. One day, a social pariah at school, destined to be suspended or expelled. The next, the school's little darling, worshipped by those that had been her enemies"

"Such is the nature of high school, Lord Erinbol."

"not quite like this, m'lord. She has used her abilities to change her fate. It is a sign that she is aware of her power, and how to use it"

"Do I need to be worried?"

"Only if she falls into the hands of your enemies, Emperor Schrag."

"If she has the blood of siths in her, wouldn't she be on my side?"

Darth Erinbol smiled.

"The Sith are not so black and white, Emperor. Their allegiance is to the dark side, not to the Empire"

"I shall have to remember that when deciding whether or not I should trust you"

TBC

Title: Re: Circle of Freedom
Post by: Medivh on November 19, 2012, 11:49:28 AM

Mimban, Sector O-12

Mimban was a damp world - covered in forests and heavy clouds, it had only a small population, mostly colonists who were seeking to exploit otherwise untapped natural resources.

Still, over the course of the past few decades, the world had prospered, largely from its lack of a role in the many wars between the various government powers. The planet's greatest threat was from pirates.

The southern portion of the galaxy had fallen into chaos years ago, with the larger, organized governments - The Republic, The Empire, the Hapans, the Corellians, the Corporate Sector, and the Trade Federation - focusing their expansion efforts on worlds north of the 12th Lateral. Mimban was one of several worlds located in that gray zone, along the border with the chaotic southern regions. As a result, it was the target of regular piracy raids. It had joined the Republic about eleven years ago, seeking the protection of republic ships from those pirates, and had grown under that protection ever since.

Piracy had dwindled against Mimban, and with other threats looming larger, the Republic had reduced the planetary defense forces of the world by three-quarters, leaving only one medium capital ship, an aging MC-60, and a few smaller craft. Fighter squads patrolled less frequently, and the world in general had gotten lax in its defenses.

When a dozen capital and auxiliary craft appeared out of hyperspace, it thus came rather unexpectedly.

The captain on the MC-60 was walking his rounds, when suddenly, the alarm went off. He ran to the nearest comm-station.

"Report"

"Captain, we have a number of ships appearing out of hyperspace. They appear to have weapons and shields active"
"Do they have any affiliation markers?"
"No, sir. It looks like a pirate raiding group"

The captain frowned. It had been some time since they had been raided - and this force was larger than they had faced in a long time.

"Order all ships to red alert - raise shields, weapons, and hail the ships, ordering them to power down"

"Aye sir"

The Captain ran up to the bridge of the ship, arriving just as the vessel shuddered

"Report"

"Sir - we weren't able to get our shields up in time. They've disabled several power conduits"

"Return fire - see if we can get those shields online, and move other vessels into position to support us."

The ship continued to rock as it was fired upon, weapons finally returning fire. The other PDFs were spread out around the planet, and it would be some time before they would reach the attacking party.

"Sir - the raiding party - they have just deployed what look like seven auxiliary craft, protected by two fighter squadrons. They are approaching our docking bay"

It seemed impossible that a party would be so brazen as to try and steal a republic cruiser, the captain shaking his head.

"Order troops to the bay - and concentrate fire power on their party"

Even as he gave the order, the lights flickered and burned out, leaving only the redish glow of auxiliary power.

"Sir"

"Yes I know ... they were using ion cannons against us?"

"Yes sir - interspersed with the turbolaser fire, it seems. We weren't ready for the fight"

The ship jerked again, the captain looking out the viewport.

"What the hell?"

The ship was moving - sideways. A dozen pirate capital ships had locked onto the Cruiser with tractor beams, pulling it out of the gravity well. As the enemy landed in the docking bay, the ship was pulled into hyperspace, the raiders taking their prize before reinforcements could arrive.

Ruuria, Sector Q-3
On the opposite end of the Republic, near the Corporate Sector, Ruuria was suffering a similar attack. Better defended and better manned, the planetary defenses were putting up more of a fight against the unknown intruders.

The PDF captain watched from the Starfighter Platform as the raiders attempted to destroy or disable the Republic defense ships.

By the time the battle was over, two attacking ships and five PDF ships were destroyed, the enemy disappearing into hyperspace before the battle could be turned against them.

"Contact Chandaar - notify them of the attack, and the need for replacements"

"Yes sir. Who shall we say did the attacking?"

That question was left up in the air.

The Wheel, Trade Federation HQ
Unlike several other targets, the Wheel was not assaulted by raiders. Instead, they were engaged by a single lambda shuttle, exiting hyperspace and disappearing into the traffic lanes leading to the massive structure.

Upon landing, a man dressed in imperial officer garb disembarked, flanked by a single stormtrooper. it was not unheard of for imperials to visit the Wheel - it was a neutral party that did business with the Empire, after all - and so his visit mostly went unnoticed.

The officer made his way through the cooridors, past the massive trading center, to the executive hub, where he was stopped by two young security officers, bathed in dark-blue uniforms, the trade Federation logo on their chest.

"May I assist you, sir?"
"I am here to meet with the Wheel Administrator"
"I'm sorry sir - Administrator Faram may only be seen with an appointment"
"Please convey to the Administrator that Officer Iam Patynt from the Galactic Empire is here to see him"

The security officer frowned - imperials tended to be so pushy - but nodded, standing and moving to a comm-unit while the second officer remained in place.

The first officer returned a few minutes later.

"Officer Patynt, the Administrator is unavailable at the current moment - he is able to meet with you this evening, at around 1800, galactic standard time."

Patynt nodded.

"Very well. I look forward to the meeting"

TBC

Title: Re: Circle of Freedom
Post by: Medivh on April 17, 2013, 01:13:11 PM

Byss, Capital of the Imperial Remnants

Things had been going so well. The pirate fleets created by the Empire had raided many of the Republic's outlying worlds, crippling defenses, commandeering ships, and weakening the perception of an increasingly strong Republic. Even with the addition of the Corellian Sector, the view that the Republic was unable to defend its own had been spreading.

Then, they went and did something bold - though perhaps it was not those stupid rebels who had been bold.

With the now famous speech given by the Federation ambassador, a new twist came to the imperial campaign, and it was not long before the changes were noticeable.

Reports were coming in that the attacks were being stopped dead in their tracks. Where before, imperial pirates had moved in and out, swiftly, Suddenly, they were pulled out of hyperspace prematurely, often within close proximity to a waiting republic fleet. Corellian vessels augmented the republic ships, and with a small but effective gravity well, ships were being decimated.

Now, Emperor Schrag was staring at a vast galaxy map, eyes fierce and cold watching a date indicator move forward as indicators turned from green to red - from ripe targets to blocked off - until the present day. A brief pause before starting the motion over again.

"The Federation has managed to get production up and running very quickly, considering they claimed to not have the technology readily available"

An aid next to the Emperor glanced down at a datapad.

"Based on our current information, the initial 'gift' that ambassador Tacofer spoke of was pulled from Federation storage. No way to confirm this, of course. Production of new gravity-well nets began approximately two weeks later, and is now taking up the bulk of the Federation's production capacity. The New Republic has put in an order of over one hundred nets."

"Where precisely is the Trade Federation building these things?"

"The Federation has a dry-dock orbital facility within the same system as the Wheel, plus more expansive capacity at Junction, a short distance away"

"And what kind of security do these facilities have?"

"It is believed they could withstand a small fleet, and the Federation itself produces some of the best anti-espionage security systems in the galaxy."

"The Trade Federation doesn't build everything for itself - who supplies their needs? Who supplies their ships?"

"When the Federation voluntarily collapsed over a decade ago, they consolidated their fleets to the few primary locations they still held. Junction and the Wheel are among their primary holdings, and so much of the relic ships are located in those two places, some serving as active security, some have been transformed into floating platforms for expanded trade. But on the whole, lucrative contracts - with various entities, including the Empire - have yielded them the resources to update and maintain their own security and military forces. The Republic contract just entered will allow them to expand further along the Perlemian Trade Route."

"Are they trying to break into corporate territory?"

"That is what it appears like, Your highness. In the past few weeks, the Federation have slowly been taking larger and larger market shares of what had formerly been corporate dominated fields of trade. The Federation pharmaceutical company is rapidly moving to the number 1 spot as ChemiX has suffered repeated setbacks, not the least of which was the recent break-in at one of their main facilities."

"So it seems the Federation decision to work with the Republic has suited them well. Now, how can we punish them for it?"

"We can withdraw our own contracts with them, sir. Rely more heavily on Kuat, and Siennar"

"Can we take out the Federation's gravity-well production?"

"It would be a costly endeavor, sir, and one not certain to succeed. It is possible the Republic would aid the Federation to protect the new instrument"

"We are only a few months away from the Republic sealing off their entire territory. At that point, the element of a surprise attack will be gone. They will know anytime anyone enters or exits their space. This is unacceptable. It gives the damn rebels an advantage that we will not be able to counter. Put together a plan to stop the Federation's production or the Republic's ability to implement those gravity well nets. The Empire will not sit by idly while our destiny is stolen from us"

"Yes Emperor Schrag"

The aide disappeared and Schrag turned back to the board, studying Republic weak points. His thoughts were interupted by a voice behind him.

"I know where you will find your victory, Emperor"

Schrag turned to face Darth Erinbol.

"You have been telling me about the Winton girl for some time. Has something changed?"
"Every day, my lord. Every day, she grows more powerful, her presence stronger. She is becoming a strong warrior"
"She is fourteen"
"She will not be fourteen forever"

"I only have months to find a way to destroy the Republic, and you tell me I have to wait for a high school student"

"You under estimate the power of the Force - you don't need to destroy the Republic. It will, as it always has, destroy itself. You need to be ready to pick up the pieces. And you must be patient. The Winton child is the key to creating a lasting Empire"

"Perhaps, but whose empire will it be? Mine? Her's? Your's?"

"You are the Emperor, my lord. the child is but a tool in your arsenal"

"I've seen how tools can turn on their masters, Darth Erinbol. And how Siths do as well. Perhaps it is time I relieve you of your role as my counselor"

Erinbol frowned.

"Let me be plain, my lord - you can have the Empire you seek. Dahlia Winton will help give it to you. Just as long as you do not make her your enemy. Be patient, my lord. You will soon see her for yourself"

TBC

Title: Re: Circle of Freedom
Post by: Medivh on May 21, 2013, 10:04:05 AM

Byss, Capital of the Imperial Remnants

The Emperor sat patiently in his chair as the aide approached.

"Report"

The aide bowed low before rising.

"Emperor Schrag, we have calculated that the Federation has nearly completed the Republic order for gravity well nets, and will be sending the shipment to Republic space within a few weeks. Our estimates have calculated it takes the rebels approximately a week from receipt to be able to position, activate, and fortify a gravity well net, though they have grown more efficient in the process. We believe that within 60 days, Republic territory will be completely encircled within gravity well nets, save for the Corellian adjunct. The Corellians have adamantly refused the protection of the nets."

"They don't need them - they have ships enough to deter most attacks. Still, a matter worth remembering. But for now, how can we disrupt this process?"

"Our sources indicate most of the nets are in fact being produced in orbit around the Wheel itself. The production facilities are heavily guarded. However, we have devised a plan that should allow us time to either disable or destroy the facility"

"For how long?"

"it's hard to say - depending on our success, it could be several months."

"That is insufficient. what of a larger assault?"

"We have calculated a force depletion of anywhere from 10-30%, my lord. The Federation territory, though small, is very well protected"

"What percentage of our fleet would be involved in such an assault"

"Not counting the dozen pirate fleets that are still conducting raids, the calculations would involve approximately 50% of our mainstay ships"

The Emperor leaned back in his chair, lifting a hand to rub at his chin.

"Prepare a scenario involving 100% of our mainstay ships, plus the pirate fleets. Use whatever calculations or maneuvers are necessary to reduce force depletion, and come back to me. I think I have a scenario that might be acceptable"

"Yes, Emperor Schrag"

********************

Darth Erinbol had been watching and counseling Emperor Schrag for several years now. But of late, his attention had been elsewhere, and that is where his attention was turned to now, staring at the blue holographic image of the woman standing before him.

"Lady Adubell, it has been too long"

"Indeed, Lord Erinbol. But we will be meeting soon"

"The child?"

"She is almost ready, My Lord. And she stands to be the one we have been waiting for. Soon ... soon it will be time"

TBC

Title: Re: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on June 06, 2013, 03:42:32 PM

Title: Re: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on June 12, 2013, 03:40:47 PM

Title: Re: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on June 20, 2013, 02:23:03 PM

Title: Re: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on June 26, 2013, 04:12:24 PM

Title: Re: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on July 03, 2013, 11:01:44 AM

Sketchy Map for purposes of this and subsequent posts.
W= The Wheel space station
N = Gravity Well NETS
D = the Droid Control Ship
P = Defensive PLATFORM
C = Construction Platform - specifically, the one that was attacked, and is where the gravity well nets were mostly built.
O = Space (filled with ships and other fun stuff)
I = Imperial's Main Fleet
R = Imperial Pirate Fleet
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOONOOOOONOOOOOONOOO
OOOOOPOOOPOOOODOPOOO
OOOOIOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
OOOINOPOWOPOOOOPONOOO
OOOOIOOOOPOOOOCOROOOOO
OOOOOOPOOPOOPOPOOOOO
OOOOONOOOOONOOOONOOO
OOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

The Wheel

Emperor Schrag was standing on the bridge, commanding his forces in much the way he had done as the Grand Admiral of Emperor Dementat's forces. His people feared him for his ruthlessness (as did the moffs), but he was respected because he didn't send others off - he led them into battle.

This battle had been carefully planned out, each attack and counter attack, and had been going well. The imperial fleet significantly outnumbered and outgunned the Federation's defenses, and had successfully thrown them off with a series of attacks from multiple directions - and then with the boarding of the target, rather than continuing efforts to destroy it.

Now, he was focused on gaining control of the Wheel's systems and executive areas. It was a massive station, and it could take days for an imperial army to sweep through it in its entirety, but if he had access to the primary areas - like with any ship - he could control the movements of his enemies by sealing off portions, or venting the atmosphere in specified areas. No doubt the executive control rooms were the most heavily guarded, but his forces were sufficient to be able to deal with any security and still be able to secure the necessary areas.

Then, the battle would be effectively over, and without the Wheel, the Trade Federation, with just a handful of exterior assets, would fold. That would be its end. His thoughts on the battle were interrupted by General Kwotes over the comm unit

"Emperor Schrag, we have taken a captive. He is already aboard Shuttle 5-9-7, headed for your ship"

Taking captives was not a part of the plan - captives slowed down a mission, and while Schrag was not utterly heartless, he cared little for the peons aboard the station. Even the administrator wasn't really worth saving. He was a businessman at best, and after this battle, he would be worth less than the Federation itself.

"General Kwotes, such is outside the parameters of the mission"

"I understand, sir. However, I don't believe we knew he was onboard. We've captured Rutherford Gellar, sir"

Gellar.

Schrag knew him well enough, at least by reputation. A successful member of the CSA Direx Board, made wealthier and prominent by ChemiX pharmaceuticals, and of course, involved in the recent scandals erupting in the Republic. A man, apparently so ruthless, he would hijack his own children to blame it on competitors.

"What's his status?"
"He's unconscious, sir. He seems to be in an induced comma"

Ah. intrigue - it seems the Trade Federation was to blame for the whole scandal - and had taken Gellar captive. Schrag wanted to make sure the Federation continued to suffer, even as they crumbled in the coming days, weeks, and months. Having Rutherford at his side might assist in that matter.

It also might give the Empire a leg up in negotiations with the Corporate Sector in the future. Savior of Rutherford Gellar. Brilliant.

"Very well, General Kwotes.. You are to continue with your mission. I will have Gellar dealt with once he arrives"

"Of course, Emperor"

Emperor Schrag turned to a lieutenant, one of several standing at the ready to obey his commands.

"Have Gellar escorted to the medical unit. See to it he is kept under guard, but made comfortable"
"Yes, your majesty"

The lieutenant bowed and disappeared.

Schrag had a smirk on his face as he turned back toward the battle. The Federation battle ships were starting to lose their line, their conbat space patrol diminished, making them vulnerable to attacks by imperial fighters and bombers. They were trying to reform the line, trying to maintain some sense of discipline, but the Empire was now advancing, aggressively. Schrag could see in his monitors that behind the Federation line, there was a flurry of activity - small tugs were hitching on to various federation platforms and pulling away, in the opposite direction. An evacuation plan, as good as any they could hope for.

It mattered not. Even if everything else in the system was saved, the Wheel (and perhaps the ancient droid control ship) were the only assets that could keep the Federation going.

"Emperor, we are getting reports of various explosions across the system"
"What is the source?"

The officer was punching in numbers, staring at his screen.

"the federation gravity nets, your majesty. They appear to be exploding"

There was a jolt on the bridge as a fireball, about five-meters in length erupted nearby, disappearing quickly in the vacuum of space.

"They are destroying the nets in preparation for departing the system. Have all ships stand guard, but proceed with activity. Send TIEs past the Federation defensive line - see if they can destroy some of those tugs. continue the boarding process. The Wheel won't -"

But the Emperor did not finish his sentence. Even as he was speaking, the vast space filled by the Wheel suddenly became empty. The huge station had disappeared into hyperspace.

The Emperor's smile vanished.

"Report"

He already knew what would be said, but he listened anyway, lest he missed something. The Wheel had entered hyperspace. Onboard the enemy target were dozens of imperial boarding squads, many of whom wouldn't even know they were no longer backed up by reinforcements. Two imperial shuttles that had been docking with the Wheel were now spiraling out of control, leaking oxygen.

"Run a trajectory search - I want to know where they could be headed. Send a scouting party to Junction. It's a reasonable target, close by, and with a damaged station, they won't want to risk a huge trip. Whatever hyperdrive they have, it will be slow, and it will need time to recharge and re-calibrate once it reaches its destination. With any luck, we will reach it beforehand and finish the assault. Keep comm signals open for General Kwotes, or any other imperials logged as aboard the station"

"Yes Emperor"

With the main target suddenly vanished, the entirety of the battle had changed. The Federation ships were holding their ground - or trying too, and the flurry of activity that had been behind the line now looked chaotic.

"And destroy everything that's left"

****************************
Fitful dreams and nightmares, images of dark creatures, his children in distress, and Dahlia - Dahlia being tortured, screaming for him, calling for him, begging him to save her.

"DADDY!!"

His eyes opened with a start, and he found he was staring up at a bright examination light. He was strapped down to a gurney, but could turn his head, finding himself in a medical wing.

Standing beside him, an aged man, apparently a doctor, but Rutherford noted the imperial insignia on his shoulder.

"Where am I?"

The man smiled.

"Don't worry Mr. Gellar. You are aboard the Imperial Star Destroyer Vengence. We've saved you"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on July 08, 2013, 10:52:26 AM

Besh Gorgon System
(formerly The Wheel)

Rutherford Gellar still felt woozy, but without the chemicals inducing his sleep, he was waking up, trying to grasp the situation. His last recollections were confronting Circe Prescott for her apparent betrayal of his family, conspiracies and murders. He had watched her storm away, then seemed to lose himself. He had trusted her, and his trust had led to everything that happened.

It had gotten worse over the subsequent days, until Garron suggested a sedative. One that apparently had kept him sedated for not just a few hours, but weeks. Only to find that the world had once again turned over in his absence. His children were - where? He had gone through a great deal to rescue them. Two of them, his biological children, unable to save the third, adopted one. And now, they were missing again. The imperials who had supposedly rescued him knew nothing of his children, only saying that they believed they had rescued him from the Trade Federation. Was that true? His recollections were that the Trade Federation, and Ambassador Mara Tacofer had aided in rescuing his children. But of course, maybe it was all a lie, and no one could be trusted.

He was fed and monitored, and given good care, but he was unable to leave the medical wing, both for his protection, and because apparently, there was a battle going on outside. The Wheel had disappeared, or so rumor had it, but otherwise, the Trade Federation was in shambles, its primary location - the Wheel and everything else in the Besh Gorgon system, destroyed in the ongoing attack. It was hard to believe less than a year ago, he had come to Chandaar to fight the Trade Federation for Republic contracts, and now he was a rescuee/prisoner sympathizing with them and distrusting them as they fell before the Empire.

If Mara Tacofer was right, this was all part of punishment for his past sins. And punished he was. With the sedative leaving his system, he could focus clearly enough to again be racked with the guilt of letting his children get stolen, and failing to bring them all back - and letting them get away again. He kept hearing Dahlia's screams, cries for help as he ran from her. And he would weep.

***

It was sometime later, when he had collected himself, and his nightmares had given him a moment's reprieve, when an imperial officer entered the medical wing.

"Mr. Gellar, I hope you are feeling up to a walk. The Emperor wishes to meet with you"

Rutherford nodded his head quietly, rising from his seat and taking a few shaky steps forward before getting his confident stride back. He could not allow the Emperor to see him weak, or he would just be a bargaining chip.

He was led out of the cooridors, through a turbolift, and up to the executive wing of the bridge. Four red-robed imperial guards stood at the sides of the hall, and another imperial officer, younger, stood immediately outside the door - younger ranked, obviously an errand boy for the Emperor.

"Lieutenant, please inform the Emperor that Mr. Gellar is here to see him"

The young imperial nodded, disappearing into the chamber before returning a minute later.

"The Emperor will see you now, Mr. Gellar"

The escorting officer stepped back as Rutherford moved forward, entering the room behind the young lieutenant.

The room was about as grand as a star destroyer would allow for without sacrificing tactical use of space. Transparisteel windows offered a panoramic view in a semi circle at the front, and the flicker of laser lights could be seen, reflections of the still ongoing battle outside, a dias platform with a seat/throne, carrying a variety of control panels. And upon it sat the current imperial Emperor.

Rutherford bowed his head in respect before approaching.

"An honor to meet you, your highness"

Schrag's gaze was not entirely unfriendly, almost amused as he took stock of Rutherford.

"And a surprise to meet you, Mr. Gellar. I must say I did not expect to find you aboard the Wheel"

"Yes, well, much of what has happened to me in recent months was not expected"

"indeed - you represented the Corporate Sector before the rebels, did you not?"

At this point in history, calling the dominant government of the galaxy 'rebels' was not accurate, and Rutherford knew the Emperor knew that. It was a test, to see his reaction.

"I was sent to Chandaar, yes. As I'm sure you are aware, we had a number of contracts that were possibly being threatened by the Trade Federation"

"You know how I feel about the CSA working for the Republic"

His acknowledgement of the legitimacy of the Republic was enough for Rutherford to know he had 'passed' whatever the test was to find out.

"It has never been a surprise that CSA works for whoever will work with them. We appreciate all business we get"
"I destroyed the Trade Federation because they worked with the Republic"

So that's what this was about?

"You have always gained more from working with the Corporate Sector than having us as an enemy"
"Are you threatening me, Mr. Gellar?"

"No, of course not, your highness." Rutherford declined to point out the Emperor had seconds earlier threatened him. "I am just stating the reality. CSA is stronger than the Trade Federation - we have our own active fleets, and many more worlds. We aren't your enemy. I must admit, I'm surprised at this attack. The Trade Federation, according to our information, has worked often and well with the Empire."

"Until recently"

"What changed?"

"The Republic contract was unacceptable to us. The Trade Federation gave the Republic an advantage that we could not tolerate"

"The gravity well nets"

Schrag smiled

"Indeed - among other things."

"The Empire was planning to attack the Republic soon?" It was a guess.

"Mr. Gellar, you are not a member of the Empire, or my military, and I am not inclined to divulge imperial plans of conquest. At the moment, I am trying to figure out what to do with you. We rescued you from the Trade Federation, and I imagine you want to be returned to your family?"

Family ... returned to them? He wanted them returned to him, all in one piece

"Emperor, I don't know where my family is"
"Your wife is at home in the Corporate Sector. Your daughters are both missing, but my intelligence reports indicate that your son Dane is on Corellia"

"Corellia? What? How?" he was both relieved to know where his son was, and worried at Gemma disappearing again, unaware of her new training schedule - nor would he mention to the Empire the assistance provided by the jedi.

"I don't have those details, Mr. Gellar. Nor will I be taking you to Corellia, an enemy world, to meet him there. I am however, prepared to help you get back to corporate space."

"On what condition"

"As I've said, the Empire doesn't like CSA working with the Republic"

"I don't think I'm worth that much to them, that they would drop such a lucrative market."

"Perhaps we can think of something then"

"Am I a prisoner until then?"

It was a direct question to ask the head of the Empire, and Schrag's eyes cooled considerably, but he kept a smile.

"A guest. I want to hear all about your last few months, but I imagine you still need to recover, and I ... well, I have a battle to win. Please feel free to travel the ship in any non secured areas, and I will have quarters arranged for you. I am having our liason with the sector, Vex Sienna, see what he can negotiate on Mondder. So, Until next time."

With the dismissal, the lieutenant appeared beside Rutherford, guiding him out.

Rutherford had been rescued from those who helped him, and was being kept a prisoner by an ally and business partner. His children who had been rescued were gone - as was Garron, who he hadn't even thought to ask about.

He was escorted back to the medical ward for now, where he spent the next few hours trying to stay awake, to keep away the nightmares.

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on August 07, 2013, 12:16:30 PM

Besh Gorgon System
(formerly The Wheel)

After his last encounter with the Emperor, Rutherford Gellar was mostly ignored by the imperial warlord, and given freedom to move about the ship. Limitations included the obvious - he was prohibited from accessing any sensitive or restricted areas, any armory, and above all, any communications port. The room he was given was the largest available officer's quarters, enough to comfortably hold a bed, desk, chair, lamp, dresser, and even a window - a luxury aboard a war vessel. He had his own refresher as well.

He had also been granted, albeit monitored, access to the library aboard the ship. And Gellar took advantage of it, spending his time reading everything from fiction to philosophy (apparently a favorite among imperial readers was 'Imperial Monarch: Why Republics Always Fail and Empires Thrive). It helped keep his mind busy, and the nightmares at bay.

Sleep was fitful, and it seemed like every dream ended with the sound of Dahlia screaming, of him, Dane, and Gemma running. The doctor refused to provide any more sedatives, indicating he had been on too many for too long, and was vulnerable to addiction.

All the while, he was also trying to glean news, trying to figure out what was happening outside of the ship - in the Corporate Sector, the Republic, and Corellia, where supposedly his one child was located and under the watchful eyes of the Corellian Security Force.

He could barely remember what his life had been like before this ordeal had begun, and didn't know who to blame. He was sent to the Republic to stop the Trade Federation, but was it the Direx Board or the Federation, or the unknown menace that was to blame?

Or was it himself, the thought that kept coming back to him. He had caused this upon himself and his family. he could blame others, for sure, but he had been responsible for setting things in motion. And while he was sure of very little, he was certain that he wanted to remedy his mistakes, make up for his past indiscretions

Seek atonement, and be forgiven.

*************************
Elswhere on the ship, the Emperor was overseeing the last pieces of the battle. The last of the Federation defensive line had broken, many destroyed, many fled into hyperspace, leaving the remnants of the system open for the Empire. Explosions of some craft that tried resisting, but that wasn't much.

The last real Federation threat, the ancient and massive droid control ship on the opposite side of the system, more a relic and museum than anything else, managed to enter hyperspace after sustaining notable but not fatal damage. Where it went, Schrag was uncertain, but at the moment, he didn't care. The Wheel and the Control Ship by themselves could not sustain the Federation, nor bring them back after this assault. They were relics of a now dead entity.

An imperial prison ship appeared in the system, and soon, transports were moving to and from it, collecting remaining federation troops, civilians, consumers. Some would be replaced, many would be impressed into imperial service. Scrap ships also appeared, going for the hulking remains of vessels destroyed beyond reuse. And tugboats - imperial tug boats - were deployed to collect the useable facilities that had been taken over by landing imperial troops. As each was secured, it was taken into hyperspace, and the cluttered Besh Gorgon system slowly emptied out.

Schrag smiled as he watched the vestiges of the Trade Federation be wiped away.

"Emperor, we are receiving a transmission - it appears to be from General Kwotes"

Schrag turned his head to the lieutenant, a fire in his eyes.

"And from where is the general transmitting?"

"We believe - and its hard to be certain sir - we believe it's from the Korriban system."

"Patch him through"

Schrag turned to the holo display as Kwotes appeared in bluish tint

"Emperor, our situation is most ... interesting. It appears that the Wheel entered hyperspace without Federation authority."
"Then who, General, took the station into hyperspace?"
"They claim to be sith, your highness. They have managed to subdue my troops and take control of the entire Wheel space station. They have battle droids active, sir."

Schrag frowned. This was certainly not what he anticipated.

"And they are letting you contact me?"
"Yes sir - they wanted me to tell you that they are requesting an audience with you aboard the Wheel"

Aboard the Wheel was apparently their territory, not his own.

"Did they give a reason why I shouldn't just take the Wheel for myself"

"Emperor, they said-"

Kwotes was cut off and pushed out of the display. Instead, a woman in striking black garb appeared.

"Because, Emperor, we've managed to pull the station out from your imperial armada and subdue some of your best troops. We COULD do it again, but believe we better serve the cause working WITH you rather than against you. I have with me the one you have been waiting for, Emperor, and we seek a meeting with your excellency. I would prefer to do it with minimal guns involved, but can understand the need for at least some protection. I can tell you, it will not be needed."

"I have limited reason to have this meeting"
"On the contrary, Emperor Schrag, you have everything to gain from this meeting. An ally who will help you destroy the Republic - from the inside"
"And who is this ally? Who are you?"
"I am but a servant, and am unimportant. The ally you seek, you know already, the legacy child, and daughter of the late Alexander Winton."

Schrag's face hardened as he heard the name, recalling all the words his own sith advisor had said, and how he was being played quite against his will. Still, they had proven quite capable already, and if they were an ally ...

"I will be there in three days time. I assure you, if I come to regret this meeting, so will you"

"We look forward to it, your excellency"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on August 14, 2013, 03:20:08 PM

Besh Gorgon System
(formerly The Wheel)

Rutherford was pulled from his monotonous routine and brought before the Emperor.

"Your excellence, a pleasure as always"

"Indeed - I am informing you that we have reached a deal with the Corporate Sector for you to be returned to them"

"May I inquire what the deal is?"

"The Empire has successfully gained a number of shares in Corporate Sector companies. Including ChemiX. Apparently, there has been a huge shift of corporate stocks, and with the fall of the Federation, many have soared. Even your own, which had been damaged in recent months. The Empire will benefit significantly from this deal. Financially, of course, and strategically, with the influence those shares bring. It was very considerate of the Direx Board to agree to this deal"

The idea of imperial control or influence over him and his company left Rutherford with a feeling of dread.

"I imagine mine and my company had little say in the deal?"

"Enough say, Mr. Gellar. I am confident we will meet again soon. There is much we can negotiate about. In the meantime, I have to depart on business, and I would prefer you be returned to your family as quickly as possible. A shuttle is already waiting for you."

Rutherford had little to say, and anything he could think of would probably get him in trouble. He was therefore mostly silent as he was whisked from Emperor Schrag's presence, to the docking bay, and bustled on board.

As soon as the vessel departed, Schrag turned to the lieutenant next to him.

"Prepare the ship to depart for Korriban"
"Yes, your highness"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on August 20, 2013, 12:51:14 PM

Besh Gorgon System
(formerly The Wheel)

The absence of the Imperial Star Destroyer Vengence did not significantly reduce the imposing nature of the imperial fleet now in the Besh Gorgon system.

The Emperor had departed just a short while ago, and left in charge of 'cleanup' was Admiral Barc Anida, who had been a lieutenant under Schrag when he was head of the fleet.

Anida had learned from the same school of military thought as Schrag, and viewed the Emperor as a role model in military and government. He also took great pride in the perception of the imperial navy, and so despite the clear victory here, he maintained formal battle lines among the larger ships while smaller craft patrolled about for any vestiges of the Federation.

There was almost nothing. Scrap metal and a few stranded ships (that became scrap metal) were all that remained. Anida was preparing to move on to the next phase of this attack.

Preparing Besh Gorgon as a staging area for attacks on the Republic.

The plan made sense - whereas the Empire would have difficulty striking at the Republic from outside the territory, especially with the Republic's now increasingly secure border thanks to the federation gravity well nets, by setting up a staging post within Republic territory, the Empire could strike with relative ease. It meant resupply only needed to find a single weak point in Republic outer defenses, to reach Besh Gorgon, rather than figure out ways around with each assault. Less fuel was required in the hyperspace jumps as well.

The victory here had also resulted in some key useful facilities. A dozen supply platforms and a half dozen starfighter platforms that had serviced the Wheel, were now under imperial control, and would assist in maintaining the fleet. The Wheel itself would have better served that purpose, and explained why the Emperor had departed so abruptly - he intended to get the Wheel back for himself.

Of course, with that easy access to the Republic, it also meant the Republic had easy access to the imperial fleet, and by now, no doubt, they were planning to somehow counter the imperial menace in their midst.

Therefore, while preparing for the next attack, Anida had the system on high alert, with regular patrols of outlying areas. Admiral Anida was standing on the bridge of the Imperial Star Destroyer "Behemoth" when the report first came over the channel by a nearby lieutenant.

"We are picking up outlying ships. Starfighter class, six or twelve. Shall we pursue?"

The admiral made his way over to where the lieutenant was preparing to respond.

"Order two squads each to circle around. Don't scare them away, not yet"

The lieutenant nodded, relaying the command to the patrol commander.

"Roger that"

Anida moved closer so he could watch the monitor, tracking the vessels in system.

"Admiral, sir, if we take our time, aren't we letting them get a better picture of our forces?"

"Yes, lieutenant. But they already have that information. The battle here was watched across the galaxy. They aren't trying to discern our size - they want to know what we are doing next. I'll give them the time so we can trap them, and learn who precisely THEM is"

It was a good few minutes later when the fighters indicated they were in position.

"Order the fighters to launch torpedoes"

Again the order was relayed, and a minute later, space in the distance was lit up by a line of explosions.

"Fighters, converge on the enemy"

The enemy fighters hadn't anticipated the attack, and were barely able to escape from the torpedoes, forced into last minute diversions that didn't work - the result of being stationary moments earlier. Many were damaged, and unable to maneuver as the fighters moved in and attacked.

"Make sure we ID the craft before they are all destroyed"

The comm rattled with battle-chatter as the imperials did their work.

"This is patrol commander - the fighters appeared to be X-Wing, Recon type fighters."

Anida nodded, stepping away from the lieutenant
"The rebels are preparing a strike against us. Let's make sure when they arrive, they get exactly what they deserve"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on October 02, 2013, 01:57:58 PM

Besh Gorgon System
(formerly The Wheel)

Dozens of republic ships had appeared in the Besh Gorgon System, forming a heavy line as they advanced on the imperials.

Admiral Barc Anida had deployed heavy combat space patrol around his capital ships to protect from the Republic's fighters, and had deployed dozens of assault shuttles for a counter assault.

The first skirmishes were blistering, as the outlying fighters intermingled, even as the capital ships drew closer together but still out of range. Ships on both sides winked out of existence.

Then phase two, as turbolasers began spanning the distance, capital vessels giving and receiving equally. The Imperial fleet was massive, due in part to the original strategy of the Empire. However, the Republic's fleet, only a portion of the full fleet, was managing to hold its own.

It was a long battle, and after hours of fighting, there was a brief lull.

"Report"

"Admiral, we have heavy casualties. We have some lost ships, and a number of vessels reporting hull breaches, lost weaponry, lost systems"

"In the next attack, order those vessels to act as decoys, draw the enemy fire away from our ships that are still functional"

The aide paused only a moment, before nodding his head

"For the service of the Emperor"

Just as the aide began to move away, another approached.

"Admiral, I have a connection from the Emperor"

"patch it through"

A moment later, a hologram of Emperor Schrag appeared before the Admiral.

"Your highness, we have engaged the enemy - the Rebel forces are strong, but we are a match for them."

"Withdraw the fleet"

"Sir ... I'm sorry - did you say withdraw?"
"Yes, Admiral. We are to suffer no more casualties"
"But, with all due respect, we can have victory"
"And we will - but today, I have made an alliance that will make us stronger and more victorious in the days to come. Save all ships and spoils that we can, but don't suffer any more losses. am I clear?"

"Yes, your emminence"

The Emperor's image disappeared, and the admiral, confused, gave the new order.

"All craft - order an organized retreat."

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on December 08, 2013, 02:44:02 AM

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Tarkin Academy

Barrett Trevaithan is sucker punched by a fellow student and staggers sideways as colorful spots appear in his line of vision. He adjusts then rights himself and dodges the second and third swings before spinning, landing a solid blow with his right elbow then twisting around to land another square in the jaw. His opponent springs back and flails before falling to the ground.

The fight broke out as Barrett was walking alone between classes. He didn't have many friends and loathed the pretense and swagger most of the students had. Everyone felt entitled to something. He just wanted to get through the day. The majority of the student body came from families who lived in the Emerald Splendor Estates and were fueled by the selfish stupidity that kind of money brings. Barrett is different, the one who does not belong. He is here by the grace of someone else's charity and that was something of a point of contention with his classmates.

That is when the other boys emerge, surrounding him. Barrett is lean but muscular, nearly fourteen, and in serious need of a plan. He clenches his fists and assesses the situation, surprised they would even stoop to his level to engage him. Most of them barely speak to him, let alone risk injury in a fight. It is then he feels it, like a bolt of energy that provides calm and clarity. He cannot explain it. It just is. Barrett is moving before the attack begins, casting off the flying fists as if they were nothing. He blocks and parries before striking back mightily. They go down one by one and in the end, he is the only boy standing. He does not know how it happened. He had always been scrappy and good on his feet but this was a level of coordination and skill outside his wheelhouse.

The campus security whistles are blowing and Barrett bolts as it begins to rain. It is late fall in the Imperial capital and he feels he is in for an interesting term.

*

Surface: Emperor's Citadel: Sith Chambers

Darth Erinbol is startled from a deep meditation. His dark eyes flash open as his mind seeks out the source of this disturbance in the Force. All children born within the Empire's boundaries are tested for midi-chlorian levels along with the standard vaccinations and examination. There had been few and far candidates that Erinbol had trained under him as Emperor Schrag saw less value in the Sith than Dementat had before him. He and Darth Kyja had been the pinnacle of dark powers and the galaxy had suffered a great loss with their tragic demises. He had not felt power like theirs until the Winton girl's signature called out to him six months ago. She had been identified and reported as Kyja's sister, Dahlia. This disturbance is similar yet closer, emanating from somewhere on Byss and the signature is human. A boy. How could they have missed this?

Darth Erinbol rises and moves swiftly through the chambers.

He would find source.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on December 31, 2013, 02:30:53 PM

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Tarkin Academy

Barrett Trevaithan eats breakfast alone in the dining hall. While most students commuted from other regions of the capital planet some, like Barrett, were boarded on site. The few others that were live on other Imperial controlled worlds or had parents who simply did not want to deal with them at home. His parents had died when he was an infant and after spending his early childhood in a rather unsavory orphanage, he was suddenly plucked from the masses and placed into the Tarkin Academy. The outrageous expense was mysteriously covered along with his upkeep which he had only recently come to question. He does not know much about his parents and had always assumed this was provided through some sort of inheritance.

No one has confronted him about the fight. The other students keep even further away from him than they did before which suits Barrett just fine. He is confused by what happened and tries to forget it. There is a projector at the far end of the room which plays the news channels throughout the morning. Tarkin Academy prides itself on raising disciplined yet informed students. He pays only mild attention to the somewhat sensational stories from around the galaxy. The most incessant is the breaking news out of the Republic about a pesky registration law for Force users. Everyone seems to have an opinion about it but most believe the Republic is becoming paranoid and mistrustful of the Jedi. His professors seem delighted with this progress as the Jedi are viewed as antiquated and ineffectual in modern society. Barrett has never really given them much thought outside the classroom where they have been discussed in history lessons. From what he understands, they had taken a much more secretive approach in years past and stayed largely out of the public eye. Now that appears to be working against them as the public believe they harbor some secret, mind-controlling agenda.

He shakes his head at the stupidity of a mob mentality. It reminds him of his own surroundings – the cliques, posturing and judgment – all from a bunch of stuck up little bitches.

The news shifts to more local stories; a murder here, a robbery there, and of course the Emperor's propaganda which touts their expansion efforts to combat the Republic menace. The student body was confused by the altercation at The Wheel. They had so completely destroyed the Trade Federation yet bowed out before serving the Republic any real damage. After what happened to the Moff Council, no one is going to question the Emperor's tactical decisions.

The reports then revisit a name he has heard a lot of in the past several weeks.

Dahlia Winton.

Apparently, her very existence is the bombshell of the season. At least that's what the entertainment commentators keep saying. Everyone knows the stories of the Winton family as they are tied so heavily to Imperial history. The love story that was Dementat and Darth Kyja. The Four and their sordid lives. The countless victims slain throughout the saga.

Deception, celebrity and horror!

It was all so stupid to him. Gossip was a needless distraction and one his fellow classmates could never help indulging in. Barrett doesn't have any friends so he is rarely bothered. He is about to turn away when they flash a picture of the girl in question. Dahlia is outside a courthouse, frozen with her head turned over her shoulder, staring intensely into the cam. Even injured and slightly disheveled, she is gorgeous. Barrett cannot tear his eyes away until the sound of his own name blaring through the com-system breaks the spell.

"Barrett Trevaithan, please report to the Administrative offices immediately."

He clears his tray and makes his way out of the dining hall with all eyes on him. Great, he thinks, someone ratted him out about the fight. The school was pretty strict about contact with other students given their family status. No one wants a lawsuit when little Tymm takes one to the face for being the spoiled shit he is. Barrett grumbles to himself as he ascends the stone steps to the ominous entrance of the Admin offices. It is not a fun place to be for a student. They only go there during registration or for disciplinary action. He enters and stops near the reception desk where the secretary stares straight ahead without blinking. She directs him to the Dean's office and he reluctantly enters. The Dean is a shrewd and hulking man in his late fifties who now stands on the other side of his desk in some kind of daze. The door closes and Barrett approaches the desk slowly. It is not the Dean who speaks but someone behind him.

"Welcome, mister Trevaithan."

Barrett whirls around, fists up and ready.

There is a tall, thin man dressed in a faded gray robe hovering above the industrial carpeting. He is older with ashen skin and dark eyes.

"Who are you?"

"My name is Darth Erinbol and I have not come here to hurt you."

"Could have fooled me," Barrett quips, not letting his guard down. "What's wrong with the Dean?"

"He's reviewing student files….at least in his mind. Forgive the theatrics but given your record this office is not entirely unfamiliar to you. It is the perfect place to meet without drawing any unwanted attention."

"Why would you want to meet me?"

Erinbol gestures as if it is obvious.

"You are special, young Trevaithan. Your performance in the fight is proof enough of that."

"Performance?"

"You have been feeling different lately. Stronger. There are things you are able to do but you don't know why. You single-handed bested a group of larger students using combat skills you have not been traditionally taught. You have a strength and dexterity that comes from somewhere…inside."

"So?"

"So, you are probably asking yourself how or why this is possible. I am here to provide you with those answers."

Barrett sneers, "Like I need answers from you. I don't even know you."

"You don't, not yet anyway, but believe me when I tell you we share a connection."

"To what?"

"The Force."

He laughs, "The Force? You have got to be kidding me, right?"

"Consider what you know before you deny the possibility. I felt you through the Force during that fight. Your signature led me right to you."

"What…signature?"

"Every living creature has a unique signature through the Force. Some are stronger than others and can be felt over great distances. Calling upon your connection to the Force, consciously or not, caused a disturbance. What I cannot understand is how we did not catch it until now. Most potentials are identified through testing during infancy but you, it seems, slipped through our system."

"Yeah, well, I don't want to be part of your system."

"Of course you don't. That's what makes you so intriguing. You are an outcast, lost in a sea of your own peers. They don't understand you and you loathe their arrogance. Search your feelings, mister Trevaithan. This place is not right for you. You deserve so much more. You need to be in an environment where you can be challenged and your skills utilized effectively. You are scrappy and clever yet you are stifled by a curriculum that does not serve your needs. The Empire cannot attain its true glory on the selfish whims of the idle rich. Everyone wants to find their place in these worlds. I am here to offer you a different option."

Barrett lowers his fists. The words have struck something deep in him, a yearning he could not put into words. He feels trapped here, unappreciated and bored. And above all else, he had been questioning much about himself. The strange power, an uneasy restlessness, and his uncertain past. He glances up and holds the dark gaze.

"What kind of option?"

Darth Erinbol smiles slyly.

"One that begins with the Carida Academy."

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on January 26, 2014, 12:57:15 PM

Carida

Surface: Spinara Plateau: Carida Academy

Darth Erinbol delivers Barrett here under the cover of darkness. The jagged peaks surrounding them appear like teeth against the pale moon. There is a hasty meeting with one of Sith's contacts before he was whisked away. Erinbol's last words are that he would see him again soon. Barrett follows the contact across a courtyard and into a secure building which is revealed to be the student barracks. The academy's reputation throughout the Empire is legendary. It is where boys become men and men become soldiers. The kids at the Tarkin Academy had little desire to attend, given its harsh reputation for discipline. Some would not have a choice but most could avoid it with their parents influence and money.

Barrett accepted Erinbol's offer more out of spite than curiosity. He wanted to vanish from the lives of his stuffy classmates and explore another avenue of opportunity. Something strange and dangerous. The reference to a power he held unsettled him but he was interested to know more. First, Erinbol had said, he must become strong. The contact stops at a door and punches in a code. He is told to report with the rest of the cadets in this unit to the training center in the morning. Before he has a chance to speak, he is tossed a jumpsuit and shoved inside the room. He quietly passes sleeping cadets in bunks until he finds an empty one to climb into.

As he drifts off to sleep, Barrett wonders what he'd gotten himself into.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on February 02, 2014, 12:36:37 PM

Carida

Surface: Academy

The month had been a grueling mix of drills and exercises. No one ever said basic training was glamorous but Barrett finds comfort in the routine. There is no time for inane banter on the field, only to press on in spite of the fatigue. His unit is mostly male and varies in age yet they are all strikingly similar in the fact that they loathe pretense and seem to enjoy the structure the Academy program provides. He thinks he may be the youngest by a few years but isn't sure.

Physical training is woven in with the Imperial curriculum that would serve to complete the form college portion of their education. It is the equivalent of high school for the younger cadets as the Academy is primarily a university and training center. There are many areas of focus and study which are matched to the cadet's individual strength. For now, his unit remains in basic Storm training which covers a bit of everything but more than anything serves to break anyone of their problems with authority. Barrett keeps out of the way and channels the rage Darth Erinbol found so keen into each lesson presented. He has mentioned the Sith to no one, nor has he made a show of any abilities he may or may not have. He does, however, heed Erinbol's words of focus and clarity. It helps him to succeed where others fail, granting him high marks from the agents assigned to train them.

In the rare moments of free time, Barrett wanders around the Academy grounds. He maps the layout in his mind but always returns to The Great Hall. It is there statues of the Imperial legends reside. At the far end, of course, is Emperor Schrag who is well-known for his military intellect and ruthless political tactics. The extermination of the Moff Council last year is still a primary motivator for success. Fear often is. Other notable statues include Landon Price, a commander and alumni who gave his life destroying the Centerpoint Station before it could completely annihilate the Empire. This directive was issued by Darth Kyja whose statue stands beside Dementat's. He graduated from the Academy, she did not. But her sister did. Alexia Winton's statue is a bit further down the hall, past Moff's Tarkin, Kaine and Veed. The rumor is that Alexia never officially "graduated" but was pulled out of the Academy by Palpatine himself and used as a secret weapon against her own family and friends. The Event at Five Hundred Republica is a well known tale shared amongst classmates on Byss. Many stories from the ruins of Coruscant became whispered legends and cautionary advice to anyone who thought circumventing the Empire's influence and authority was a novel idea. The spectacular murder of five North Coruscant students at the hands of Alexia Winton to spite her sister and her scheming friends is not something to take lightly. Barrett finds it rather amusing as the story varies from person to person when it is told. How large the fireball was when D'Arcy exploded in a shuttle in front of her boyfriend or how long you could hear Skyler scream as he was tossed over the edge of the luxury tower. Serves them right. Melanie was working with the Alliance and Karen knew about it which is why they were made to suffer.

They say Alexia Winton was crazy, possessed entirely by the dark side of the Force. Barrett thinks she may have been given a bad rap by the media's fascination with The Four. Everyone loves a pretty victim. They are much easier to root for. This brings his mind back to Dahlia Winton and the photage on the Holo he had seen before he came here. Why can't he get her face out of his head? She was painted as a victim as well, one the media was more than happy to clamor around, but her eyes told a different story.

Barrett returns to the student barracks and joins his unit as the supper bell rings. Quentin Swire, one of the only cadets he could stand, falls into step beside him.

"Where ya been, B?"

"Nowhere, Q."

"You are always nowhere."

Barrett smirks, turning into the mess hall.

"Ain't that the truth?"

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on March 12, 2014, 12:06:47 AM

Carida

Surface: Academy

"My name is Burke Pallus and they tell me you little shits are the best and brightest we have here. We're going to test that theory."

Barrett Trevaithan glares at the smug ISB Agent from the rigid line he and several other grunts stand in. It's true, they had been plucked from different squads to participate in the rotation training provided by senior officers and agents traveling in from other assignments. From what he gathers, being asked to teach here is a prestigious honor and he can tell that sort of thing goes straight to their heads. The first cadet is called from the line to spar with Pallus. He does not last long. Quentin is next and despite his efforts, Pallus bests him in short order.

He isn't sure how long he's been here - weeks, months - the days all bleed into one another. It's been an unending carousel of drills and exercises and courses. The history of the Empire, the hypocrisy and lunacy of the Republic ideal and the quest for galactic dominance. Barrett isn't sure who they are trying to convince. They are preaching to the converted. He's all for the Imperial way. Everything else just seems sort of lame. The Republic has always struck him as a revolving door. A few who oppose the order of the Empire break off into Separatists which then becomes the Rebellion or Alliance, depending on who's leading the charge. They unite to topple the alleged tyrants and once everyone is done cheering, they expand to the point of no longer being able to function at all. The democratic order they rallied so hard behind is rendered useless by bureaucracy. Barrett isn't the sharpest tool in the shed but he's smart enough to know that. The Empire is where it's at.

Barrett had not seen Darth Erinbol since he arrived yet he knows he is being watched. He can…feel it. This is not something he can easily explain nor is he entirely comfortable with the concept of the Force. These things are hardly mentioned on Carida, despite some of their finest possessing these abilities. Fundamentals first, he supposes.

His name is called and he steps forward.

Agent Pallus has bested his classmates in the close-quarters hand-to-hand training exercise. The point is that not everyone can rely on a blaster or have the space to plot out an elaborate attack. Everyone needs to be ready to duke it out if it comes down to it. Barrett assumes a defensive stance as Pallus begins to circle. He faux lunges in an attempt to make Barrett react. He doesn't. Pallus reaches out and grabs his shoulder in a take down attempt. Barrett's adrenaline is rushing and the anticipation of the move forces him into action. He steps over Pallus' leg as he sweeps then angles back, twists his arm and throws him over his shoulder. Pallus lands on the mat but springs back, snaring Barrett's neck with his legs and drags him over in a barrel roll. The other cadets are now watching excitedly at an actual match.

Barrett struggles momentarily in the hold but slams his head into Pallus' groin, causing his legs to release. He rolls away and flips into a standing position. Pallus is upright as well, moving in quick. Barrett is immediately on the defensive dodging and slapping away at his fists as they attempt to make contact. It's as if he can see them coming in slow motion, giving him ample time to deflect. He catches Pallus' fist and spins inward, slamming his elbow into his face. This sends him reeling off balance and gives Barrett enough time to step back, turn and kick. Pallus tumbles across the mat, pauses then pounces into a tackle. Barrett falls back but throws Pallus up over him with his legs but uses the momentum to roll with him. He winds up on top, pinning his arms down with his knees, fist up and ready to strike when the whistle blows. The class is dismissed and Barrett stands, reaching out to help Pallus up.

"Not bad, kid."

"Not bad?" Barrett says. "I had you."

"You've got moves. I'll give you that. Now get going."

"Yes, sir."

Burke Pallus groans as he leaves the training room and ascends the stairs to the viewing chamber above. This is where the higher up's come to see potential without becoming a distraction. He enters the darkened room to find the Emperor staring contemplatively through the one way window.

"Your Highness."

"Excellent work, Agent Pallus. I've seen what I needed to see."

"The boy has skills. Much more so than any new cadet I've encountered."

"The Sith seem to think so."

"You do not believe them?"

"I've never been one to rely on their superstition," Schrag says distantly. "But in this case they may have a point. The future of the Empire depends on breeding capable leaders and one with Trevaithan's combat savvy along with a connection to the Force may prove advantageous against the Republic and the floundering Jedi."

Pallus smiles.

"I hear they have grown weary of their secrecy and anti-Jedi sentiment runs rampant within their borders."

"That it does. With any luck they will be expelled from their ranks and on the run. They are one embarrassment away from complete humiliation."

"We can help with that."

The Emperor nods.

"You have your orders."

"Yes, your highness."

Pallus leaves the room and the Emperor returns to his thoughts. Erinbol seemed hesitant to bring the Trevaithan boy to his attention but he is glad he did. That is not something he would admit publicly, of course but having a protégé ascends the ranks of the Empire would bring a certain sense of satisfaction. To Pallus' point, the Republic outrage over the "dark Jedi's" manipulations of some of its most respected citizens is true genius. The Winton girl knows how to pull off a PR stunt and she should given her lineage. The choice phrasing of "dark Jedi" in place of "Sith" was exactly the kind of fuel the public needed to run with the story. The quiet security the Jedi's mysterious presence once brought them is replaced with fear and suspicion. Civil unrest is something they so richly deserve.

The death of Adubell at the hands of Dahlia Winton does give him pause. Clearly the teenager is not to be underestimated. For an apprentice to slay their master is commonplace in Sith lore but the production of it all – the bruises and heart wrenching testimony – was simply inspired. Schrag had been wary of the Winton girl at first given that she appeared much like her vapid, socialite sister but she has proved herself to be quite the conniving asset indeed.

More alarming than anything is that after the Federation defeat in the Besh Gorgon system, the Corellian's swooped in to the save the day. Even though the Corellian's are stubborn and martyr's to the cause, that Ambassador Tacofer must have really sold it to them. Most wouldn't touch the Federation brand but the CEC needed a boost to really prove their entry into the Republic was worth the wait.

Then there is Rutherford Gellar. The titan had made quite the impression during his recovery aboard his command ship. He managed to be an authoritative presence without coming off as arrogant as so many of the Corporate Sector blowhards tend to do. He considers the investment into ChemiX a wise one now that they are going to require something special. He hopes Gellar's profit driven persona would not conflict with his recent attachment to his family's emotional well-being. ChemiX has had much success with Force vaccine and the painkiller Capra. These were intricately designed and potent drugs. The Imperial scientists do not have the brilliant minds behind ChemiX but have outlined a potential new cocktail that could help build the next generation of soldiers and spies. Stormtroopers were a spectacularly orderly distraction in terms of infantry and the special ops and covert agents serve a distinct purpose. The trick is infiltrating a larger organization or government. Bribery and blackmail isn't always as effective as it could be. Even the shadow ISB operatives, Max and Xam had problems controlling the subjects of their mind implants. There were certain complications and side-effects. They needed something that would inhibit natural functions like pain and fear in order for any implants to correctly modify behaviors. This would also serve to make their agents more effective, less prone to feeling anything other than accomplishing the mission. A ChemiX contract for such a drug would help immensely to further this goal.

One among many.

Emperor Schrag smiles deviously.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on August 20, 2014, 09:07:16 AM

Bastion: Northern Imperial Stronghold

Two months had passed since the failed rebel assault on Bastion. In addition to being a decisive strategic victory, it boosted the morale of the millions of individuals in the imperial armed forces. What had been a slow withdrawal from the Republic border, losing territory little bits at a time had turned around immediately. When the rebels lost, momentum shifted away from them, and they were forced to pull back their remaining forces, or risk being routed. Garqui, which had been under pressure from the enemy was relieved, Generis and Phaeda were reclaimed with almost no fight, and the imperials were pressing forward at Agamar and Ithor. In a few months time, Bandomeer, which had been the key border world and the launching point for the Republic offensive, would be again in the thick of battle.

And again, the Empire would not press too far, too fast. The young Winton girl had in fact begun doing as she had promised - damaging the Republic from within. Emperor Schrag could hardly believe how successful it had been. By pulling back from the Besh Gorgon system, where he would have had a small albeit important victory, he had set the stage for a republic attack that was doomed to failure. The brightest and most powerful of the Republic - the jedi - were being ostracized, losing face, losing influence, losing access. All thanks to his sith allies - Dahlia Winton, the sith woman Adubell, whom Winton had killed, and his own advisor, Darth Erinbol.

He watched with joy as the news was reporting the new actions against the jedi - being evicted from the basement levels of the senate building, and subject to even greater restrictions. At the same time, Dahlia Winton, who was herself clearly connected to the force, managed to avoid any of the stigma her fellow force users were facing. Her face was now plastered every few minutes on the holo-channels associated with teen celebrities and rising stars.

Yes, she had been good to her word, so far. And with his continued passive-aggressive assaults on the Republic, they would continue to demoralize.

"I told you that we would be successful."
"Quite cunning. The way you gained that captain's loyalty - the way he was made to betray his people"
"The Force has a strong influence on the week minded"

Emperor Schrag turned to face Erinbol

"How do I know you aren't influencing me?"
"You are not weak minded"
"So says you - how can I know for sure?"

Erinbol laughed. "The Lord Dementat, a powerful sith, gave you command of his entire fleet. If he thought you could be influenced - at all - thought you were weak, he would never have given you command."

"That is reassuring. Then again, you managed to undermine an entire fleet led by the most powerful jedi of the day, all by whispering into the ears of one weak link."
"True - but it is not in our best interest to undermine you"
"For now"
"Your concerns are unwarranted, your emminence. The sith have no intention of hurting your Empire."
"Maybe not mine, and maybe not now - but what when I am old and frail, or passed on? Who will rule after me?"
"Perhaps, in the absence of a biological heir, you would be in a position to decide who that person will be. Make the decision now that will carry on your legacy for at least another generation, make the Empire even stronger"

Schrag turned to face Erinbol, his lips pursed in quiet frown.
"You think I should choose Winton as my heir, don't you?"

Erinbol shook his head
"Admittedly, she is suited for the task, and will be more so as the Republic begins to fold in on itself. But her role in the demise of the Republic and the resurgence of the Empire must remain clandestine, completely, even within the Empire itself."
"But you do have someone else in mind? You have someone you think will be suited to replace me"
"I do have someone who I think is suitable to serve under you, loyally, and take your place when you deem appropriate"

Schrag watched Erinbol, at first with an inquisitive look, then a nod as he understood.
"The Trevaithan boy"
"He continues to excel in his studies - and you yourself saw his prowess. But even at Carida, he is only training to be an elite subject. For him to be a leader, a ruler, he needs to receive more specialized training."

The idea of creating someone to replace him had its own negative implications, but Schrag - always a military man, and (to his knowledge) never a father would only be able to shape the galaxy for so long. By setting up his heir, he had the chance to continue molding the galaxy even in his absence.

"Have the boy transported to Bastion. I think it's time he and I met face to face"

"Of course, your majesty"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on November 04, 2014, 12:44:35 PM

Carida

Surface: Academy

Barrett Trevaithan excels in his studies and training to become one of the top cadets in his class. He has earned the respect of the instructors and rotating Imperial agents who visit to teach courses. He has even won over the hardened Burke Pallus who had taken a special interest in his training. The other cadets scowl and hate save for his only friend, Quentin Swire. Together, they could rule this place but instead choose to absorb every last piece of knowledge from their professors. They both have a deep ambition to rise in the ranks and there are whispers the powers that be have taken notice.

The past month has been exceptionally busy but he always manages to catch the Holo reports in the evenings after dinner. Barrett has never been one for keeping up with the news but he figures it's better to be aware than in the dark. Word out of the Republic has been overwhelmingly negative which makes him smile. A week ago, the reports were flooded with their new obsession: Dahlia Winton. She made her debut after returning to Chandaar. The Winton name is a big deal in the Empire and people love to talk about what this could mean. There is no indication she is anything other than a vapid model but the way she gazes into the cam never fails to hold his attention. She carries herself with a confidence he appreciates. Given all she's been through, it's amazing she picked up those pieces and made a go at life in the public eye. He and Quentin agree they have a crush on her even if it will never happen in a million years.

The most recent report covers an explosion that killed a host of people. Speculation leans toward a terrorist attack but Quentin laughed it off as a transparent attempt to slay a Jedi and a mouthy Counselor that had been causing a lot of problems. Barrett wonders if the Republic would go that far. If so, there may be hope for them yet.

He leaves the dining hall and swings by the bathroom to wash his hands. When he turns around, Darth Erinbol is standing near the door.

"Creep much?"

"The time has come, young Trevaithan."

He sighs, "Meaning what, oh-cryptic-one?"

"The Emperor requests an audience with you."

"With me? Why?"

"You have shown great promise here. He has watched you from afar but feels it is time for a personal meeting."

"Does he now?"

"This is a great honor, one that should not be taken so lightly."

"I'm not," Barrett says. "It's just heavy, that's all. What do I even say?"

"Let him lead the conversation. He has great plans for you."

"I've heard that can mean many things."

"You are different, special. We must leave now."

He follows him out into the hall, "Wait, I've got to let my friend know I'm taking off."

"The Emperor does not like to be kept waiting."

"Where are we going?"

Erinbol levels his gaze, "Bastion."

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on March 04, 2015, 09:36:58 AM

Bastion: Northern Imperial Stronghold

Barrett Trevaithan's transport descends through the atmosphere, past the layers and layers of defenses protecting the planet, through clouds until the city appears below, growing by the minute. Bastion's capital city was reminiscent of imperial city on Coruscant, with vast, impressive buildings shooting into the air. The palace rises above them all.

The shuttle descends to a docking bay near the south-western corner of the complex. It lands smoothly, and Darth Erinbol, without a word, leads him down the ramp and into the bay itself.
Save for light filtering through the opening, the bay is dark and empty. That emptiness continued as Barrett was led into a corridor, dimly lit in emergency lights.

"Is my coming here a secret"
"The Emperor has plans for you, and it would not serve his purposes for those plans to be revealed"

They walked in silence through several more corridors, all empty, finally reaching a small room, empty save for a monitor, two chairs, and a table. The monitor was huge, covering the majority of the far wall, and was streaming news from the holonet.

"Wait here"

Erinbol exited the room, closing the door and leaving Barrett alone to his thoughts. This wasn't quite what he pictured when he thought of meeting the emperor. Emperors had grandiose throne rooms, imperial guards. Not dark rooms with holonet.

Time passed, and he waited, finally taking a seat in one of the chairs and watching the holonews.
Of course, the biggest story was the murder of Republic Speaker Shale Apteen, amidst giving an impassioned speech to justify the measures he had been taking. The footage of the actual shots played every so often, but the discussion was focusing more on the follow up: the investigation into the murder, the chaos of unrest and brutality that resulted, and of course, the politics.

Analysts were discussing who would be chosen to be the next speaker of the senate in Apteen's absence. He had served strongly for a decade, holding firm a republic made of many disparate parts. But the recent tensions had caused huge rifts in the Republic, and finding a similarly strong and influential leader would be difficult. Possible contenders had not even declared yet, but the news was intent on making guesswork.

One they guessed was Artemis Soldys, the war-hero and senator from Corellia. The press pointed out that he was an outspoken opponent of the Force User Registration Act, and had made many enemies in the senate, but he was known for having the political savvy to navigate through the senate, having arranged for the Corellian Sector to join the Republic. He also was presumed to have the support of the entire Corellian bloc, as well as others allied with him against the FURA, a good start, especially amidst the havoc.

Then there was his opposite in the senate, Senator Ingrat. Ingrat had become a strong ally of Speaker Apteen's in pursuing the FURA, and was chair of the Senate War Committee. Ingrat was constantly opposed to Soldys, and had been able to go around the Corellian's efforts to arrange for research at the centerpoint station wreckage. Ingrat could easily line up a large bloc of senators to support him.

There were a handful of others as well: the local senator from Chandaar itself, a wealthy senator from Iego, a long-standing diplomat turned senator from Vena near the Hapan star cluster, and a well-liked senator from Mon-Calimari, with connections to the ship-building industry there.

Barrett listened to the pluses and minuses of each, not hearing the door behind him open.

"Who do you think should be the speaker for the Republic?"

Barrett turned, startled, and jumping out of his seat as he saw Emperor Schrag.

"Emperor Schrag, I apologize, I didn't -"
"Answer the question"

Barrett silenced himself, then turned, looking at the screen.
"Soldys is the most suited for the job of governing, but he won't get elected. He is too much of an outsider, especially now. Ingrat is strong-willed, but would be horrible at building coalitions. He would just stir up trouble. The rest of the likely contenders - none of them have the kind of gravitas it takes to lead a huge group of politicians"

"So your answer?"
Barrett turned back to the Emperor
"It would need to be an unlikely contender. Someone not tied to the current controversies on either side, but able to stabilize them."
"And who would that be?"
"I don't know. I don't think that person exists."

Schrag never looked away from Barrett.

"How should the Empire respond?"
"My first reaction would be to use the current chaos as an opening - swiftly attack the Republic while they are disorganized"
"Your first reaction?"
"Yes, sir. The problem with that plan is once the Empire can be perceived as the worst threat, the Republic is likely to put aside internal issues and unite to fight the common enemy - us. The Empire should wait - wait until the Republic is in total chaos. Till it impacts their ability to defend themselves. Then move in"

Schrag nodded.
"A prudent course of action - could it not backfire?"
"of course it could, your highness. If the Republic finds the right candidate for speaker, who is able to end the unrest, we would lose our opportunity to strike when they are weakest"

"So again, what should the Empire do?"
"Whatever we can to make sure the Republic doesn't find a unifying figure. Or choose one for ourselves"
"We do not control internal Republic politics"

Barrett heard the Emperor say that - but it seemed - incorrect. His gut told him that the Empire did have internal connections.

"I would not be surprised to learn the Empire had ways of influencing the enemy from within. The ability to establish a single individual to run the senate ... there is no reason even us, as their enemy, would not have a few openings into the process. If we found those openings, use backdoor connections, we could either choose the individual ourselves, or create a candidate strong enough that any new speaker would need to listen to him."

Schrag again nodded, otherwise maintaining a poker face.

"I want you to find out which individual will serve that purpose for the Empire. An individual we can control sufficiently, and who can wield necessary influence in the Republic senate. You will have whatever resources you need, but you are not to leave the palace. Do you think you can fulfill this task?"

Barrett nodded his head, the enormity of the task weighing in his thoughts. But if the emperor asked, you don't say no. And the fact that the emperor asked him, a mere soldier - that meant something more than this brief exchange.

"Of course, your highness"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on March 19, 2015, 02:41:07 PM

Bastion: Northern Imperial Stronghold

Once he had made his selection, Barrett wondered how it had taken him so long to make it.

Senator Gil Leeds. Of Contruum.
The world had a history of strong industrialization. A decade and a half ago, it had fallen under the control of the Empire, and the Empire had established a strong, forceful presence there. With the decline of the Empire, they had withdrawn, and the Republic came in, but the world still had imperial sympathizers.

Barrett had managed to do a fairly extensive psychological profiling of the man, and found he was perfect. The senator from Contruum was not overly arrogant or ambitious, but understood his role to be to make Contruum a more powerful contender - no matter who it was under. As a senator, he was successful at lobbying for his world, and had made friends on both sides of the current debate. He could effectively communicate, but at the same time, could follow his peers, if it was advantageous.

Contruum could argue about the importance of fighting against the Empire ... and could equally argue about the necessity of conceding against them.

He had prepared a lengthy report for Emperor Schrag, utilizing the data available, and was making his case.

"We still have contacts on Contruum, some that even work in Senator Leeds' office. All we need to do is convince him that it is in Contruum's best interest that he run for the position. Soldys will back him in a second if it means Ingrat won't get the seat. Ingrat may, reluctantly, accept Leeds so Soldys won't gain power. The rest of the senate will fall in line."

"And once he is in that position?"

Barrett smiled.

"Then we have our foot in the door. And we can start making changes the Republic should definitely have."

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on May 08, 2015, 03:08:56 PM

Bastion: Northern Imperial Stronghold

Barrett Trevaithan had been upgraded. No longer was he stationed in a cell-sized, windowless room with just a monitor. Now he was in a cell-sized, windowless room with a monitor and a tactical board. The board was in the center of the room, and offered a three dimensional holo-projection of the galaxy that could be zoomed in and out. Additional light sources indicated the locations of imperial and rebel forces.

Barrett was paying particularly close attention to reports from Bandomeer, where imperials who had briefly made an attack in orbit, were now retreating up the Braxant Run to Garqui or the imperial fleet at Dathomir. He was swiping his hand through the monitor, grabbing a ping of light and moving it. When he was finished, his orders would be transmitted to imperial high command for review and if approved, then obeyed by the fleet. If disapproved, the Emperor would make the final decision.

The Emperor entered the room, and Barrett stood up.

"Your highness"

Emperor Schrag's face was stern, emotionless, his voice stern and unforgiving.

"Your chosen speaker has rallied the rebels against us"

Trevaithan nodded.

"We have started to lose our gains along the border"

He nodded again.

"Apparently, your plan backfired."

"No, your emminence. My plan is working out perfectly"

"Your plan was for the Empire to suffer"

"No, sir. It was to continue with the same imperial strategy that you yourself implemented. Which was to appear as less of a threat than we are. If we combated the rebels, there would be a great war, but right now, they out resource us in every way. But if we relinquish and lose to the rebels, then there is no war. And we cease to be the enemy."

"We need to lose the war?"

"No, your highness. We need to end the war. Let the Republic win a battle - a real battle - and then sue for peace. The Republic won't know what to do. We'll become guests of the Senate, and Speaker Leeds. We'll be right in their heart. We just need the right negotiator to convince them of our sincerity"

Schrag finally cracked a smile.
"Indeed. And I believe you are the best suited for the job"

Barrett looked confused as the Emperor handed him a datapad. "This was my own assessment for how the war should proceed. See how it lines up with your own strategy?"

Barrett glanced down at the datapad, skimming it quickly.

"You already had the same plan"
"Yes"

He looked up at the Emperor "You were testing me?"
"I've always been testing you, youn Trevaithan. I wanted to see if you were as cunning as you were made out to be. You also have a convincing dialect. You will be my emissary to the Republic. Soon - in the coming months - we will sue for peace. And the rebels, so self-righteous, will be obligated to agree."

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on June 01, 2015, 05:30:16 PM

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface

Deep within the Emperor's Citadel, two of the most vicious Imperial agents tinker away in a classified lab. A search for either agent would turn up nothing. No bio, no dossier, no pictures. They are the phantoms of the regime and had been since before Dementat. Their experiments had yielded some interesting results through the years in a quest for one thing; a programmable soldier.

Clones were so basic. Droids too finicky. The Guri Project was a significant step in the right direction but certain variables still caused both PHAGE and the Infiltrators to lose focus of their primary objectives. Early versions of the brain implants resulted in too wide a variety of results. While Tenley Price remained stable and obedient until her end, the Hapan Admiral, Rana Ohtar, faired far worse. Not everyone was susceptible to the stimuli. The later generations, utilized on Centerpoint Station during the Confederation, worked well for a time but in the end were exploited.

That is why the agents known as Max and Xam suggested a partnership with the only company with the biomedical research to pull it off. Emperor Schrag had seen tactical advantages in having potential sleepers at Imperial disposal. Therefore, Rutherford Gellar was rescued and rehabilitated aboard Schrag's command ship, released back to the Corporate Sector for shares of his company, ChemiX, and leverage to obtain what they desired. The order was given and facilitated through their CSA liaison, Vex Sienna.

Ibellum, as the serum was dubbed, utilizes nanotech as a brain-computer interface (BCI) with the ability to upload data from anywhere in the galaxy into its host. The nanomites could alter brain signals, amending both personality and muscle memory to the given specs. Once the host was activated, they would carry out their assignment without question or qualm then all traces of these actions and memories could be wiped away, leaving the host intact but unaware.

No emotional consequences.

Manufactured ignorance is bliss.

Of course, there were several losses among the early test-hosts. There is always sacrifice in experimentation and those sacrifices are necessary for advancement.

Max and Xam had to work out the kinks of the interface, uploading and overlaying traits and skills without frying the host's brain. The first two had bled out through their eyes, nose and ears. Messy but telling. The third suffered a brain hemorrhage so severe it practically burst through his skull. The forth proved more promising and was the key to perfecting their methods. The sixth, seventh, eighth and ninth smoothed out the controls and lucky number ten, the first post-beta host, now sits with the Sith advisors. The Emperor doesn't entirely trust Darth Erinbol and requested a sleeper in the event their council displeased him.

However, Erinbol was useful. They needed a Republic host but had yet to find a suitable subject that wouldn't draw the wrong kind of attention. Janessa Kain's name came up more than once as she had been made to do wicked things. Unfortunately, she was already flagged by the RSB. Her movements and motives would be questioned. A handful of Senator's, including Artemis Soldys, were briefly considered and discarded. A Senator would pose too great a risk. The tech had not been field tested for longevity. A Senator's meltdown would cause alarm but a model's would make for fantastic gossip yet still seem organic. Something people expect. From the intel Erinbol received from the Voss-Ra on the Winton royal, the assassinations of Counselor Prescott and her Jedi companion had been committed by a simple yet beautiful girl under the Sith's influence. Her mind was pliable enough to be forced into committing acts of treason and murder.

This impressed the Emperor and excited Max and Xam.

The pretty girl could cause all sorts of mayhem and still be adored.

They arranged for the serum to be transported to the Voss-Ra disciple on D'ian who then ensured Dahlia Winton would discover it. They could not communicate directly therefore a series of clues led her to the challenge, one she completed more promptly than anticipated. The bio signals for Quinn Cavanaugh poured into their systems and were then filtered and categorized for programming. They had their Republic host, a host that could go nearly anywhere she pleased. Moreover, Dahlia would have a partner who would remember nothing in the end.

Max's fingers glide across the keyboard below a swirling map of Quinn's brain. So simple, streamlined and sweet.

They would take great pleasure in defiling it.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on June 16, 2015, 04:29:38 PM

Bastion: Northern Imperial Stronghold

Planning to lose was an art. It required just the right amount of finesse. Fight too hard, and you may actually win. Play too weak, the loss seems inauthentic, staged, and leads to suspicion and questions.

We couldn't have that.

Barrett was analyzing the make-up of the fleet that had retreated to Garqui from Bandomeer. An imperial star destroyer had been successful in holding off rebel counter-attacks until the rest of the fleet got away, but at a cost. The massive ship had suffered significant damage, making it only about 60% combat ready, and its fighter compliment had been all but destroyed. The rest of the ships included two victory star destroyers, and about two dozen smaller ships, supplemented by a number of starfighter and defensive platforms that had been constructed in orbit.

The ISD was kept present at Garqui to bolster the fleet, construction crews scrambling to repair damaged weapons and systems.

Perhaps not as effectively as they could have.

High command had been very reluctant to keep an imperial star destroyer so close to the front line when it was in such a vulnerable state. Why not replace it with a more combat ready vessel? But the Emperor went with Barrett, leaving him doubly satisfied that the Emperor chose his strategy over theirs.

Reports had come in from Garqui of rebel spies and scanning vessels. Barrett responded by ordering the construction of a half dozen Golan platforms. Expensive to be sure, and formidable when completed. But once the rebels saw the defensive steps being taken, they would strike, and strike hard, long before the Golans were able to fight back.

Building Golans instead of capital ships also would tell the Republic that the Empire was moving to a defensive posture.

Barrett was reviewing the schematics for Garqui's defense, when an aid rushed in.

"Sir"

It was a recent change - him being called 'sir', or him having underlings. His official title was 'Special Advisor and Envoy' an ambiguous title that told no one anything, but gave him a great deal of authority.

Barrett turned to the aid, three years older than him. Barrett had learned that in the Empire, respect came with fear. Make it clear who was in charge.

"I don't believe I gave you permission to enter"

The tone was even, cool. It was not about being petty - it was about asserting the command order. The aid seemed even more flustered.

"I'm ... I'm sorry, sir. Special Advisor, sir. I .."

Barrett cut him off - it was already clear why this individual was NOT advancing.

"Remember for next time - get to the point"

"Sir - the rebels have attacked at Garqui."

Barrett nodded his head and dismissed the aid, waiting until he disappeared before letting himself smile.

Just wait till High Command saw what he had in store.

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on June 18, 2015, 12:27:34 PM

Garqi

Garqi was a mostly agricultural planet in the outer rim of the galaxy, about halfway between the Hydian Way and Bastion. It was fairly deep in the heart of imperial territory, and a launching point along the Braxant Run straight to - and from - Bandomeer. From a strategic standpoint, it was the main point of offensive into the Republic, and a key defensive position for the Empire. After the Republic had attempted to bypass Garqi in its assault on Bastion, and after the utter failure there, Garqi became a focal point of attention. It had to be taken if any attempt was to be made to rout out the Empire from the Repbulic's northern border.

The world's increased significance had also resulted in a stronger defensive fleet present, augmented with the forces that had retreated from Bandomeer only a few months ago. Extensive repairs were being done on the damaged ships, and new defensive platforms were mid-construction.

That was the setting as the Republic made its assault on the imperial-held world.

It was no small force: A half-dozen corellian cruisers exited hyperspace with their support craft, including two-dozen corellian corvettes, five Mon-Calimari MC-60s, an array of other capital craft, not to mention a variety of X-Wing, Y-Wing, A-Wing and B-Wing fighters.

The outer comm relay was taken with only a minimal fight, the imperial ships moving into a defensive position. Closer to the planet, the behemoth that was the Imperial Star Destroyer was covered in scaffolding as it underwent repairs. According to republic intelligence, the right side had lost most of its weapon-firing capabilities in the last battle, a fact confirmed as it was the left side that was facing out toward space.

A full gross of republic fighters and bombers skirted around the imperial capital ships to sortie with the combat space patrol around the ISD, letting loose dozens of projectiles into the vessels hull.

Further out, capital ships collided. In terms of numbers, the Republic and the Empire were almost evenly matched. Had construction on the Golan Platforms been completed, the Republic would have a much harder chance of succeeding in taking the planet. As it was, those platforms were still only half-completed shells, and only cursory, temporary weapon emplacements were any threat from there. The battle was a spectacular display of death, destruction, and fireworks, as imperial ships and republic ships exploded.

The CSP around the ISD was dwindling, and the massive vessel was beginning to show signs of damage. With a roar, the ISD's engines burned to life, the scaffolding around it shaking away as the ship began to move.

More republic fighters were suffering as weapons fire increased from the destroyer, a sign that whatever was functioning was being activated. The vessel pivoted and turned, now facing space and the republic fleet. Like a two-faced monster, the star destroyer had significant contrast between one side and the other. One side had the smooth, sleek, deadly look of a star destroyer; the other, a patchwork of metals that were meant to serve as temporary replacements while the hull was being repaired. Weapons batteries, even as they fired, were more exposed than ever before, and a scar of damage could be seen in several places. But it was the largest class of ships in the galaxy, and certainly one of the most deadly.

Republic forces began to shift, preparing to deal with the more severe enemy, taking hits from lighter foes and responding with only auxiliary weapons fire..

The ISD belched out a spread of torpedoes, and that moment of pause between one target and the next ended, orbit erupting into back and forth fire. republic starfighters emptied their payloads on the ISD, returning to their carriers for replenishments before heading back out. Imperial vessels targeting those carriers to reduce the fighers effectiveness, other imperial vessels involved in heavy fire with the corellians largest ships.

THe corellian largest of the cruisers, the corellian dreadnaughts moved forward to take on the imperial star destroyer, and anything in between became quick debris, adding to the field of scrap metal that was forming.

One dreadnaught was gone, the second taking a heavy beating as chunks of the ISD fell off the vessel.

Second dreadnaught obliterated, the third now being targeted. Firepower from the ISD was beginning to show signs of slowing, as damage that had just been replaced to its systems seemed unable to handle the new onslaught. Ion cannons were fired at the star destroyer, as if only to make matters worse.

The third dreadnaught fell under the ISD's onslaught, but a fresh wave of bombers came in, targeting the ISD's vulnerable command bridge and letting loose. Sparks flew, and the ship stopped firing.

A few more hits, and additional chunks of the ISD came apart. And with a final barrage of fire from republic vessels, the ship imploded on itself, then a series of small explosions rocked orbit, sending additional damage to nearby ships.

With the Imperial Star Destroyer out of the way, the battle turned in favor of the Republic, just barely. It had been costly, losing three full sized dreadnaughts and dozens of fighters and bombers. But it had been worth it, and necessary, for the Republic to hold back the Empire, prevent them from strengthening their hold on this sector.

The remaining imperial ships, dwindling slowly, began to retreat, falling back to Bastion to tell the Emperor what had happened here.

The Republic, meanwhile, began to process of securing the world for themselves, and letting Chandaar know of their victory.

Hard fought, and well won.

Sure.

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on July 17, 2015, 02:25:34 PM

Bastion: Northern Imperial Stronghold

Imperial High Command had protested with the Emperor that the young, inexperienced Barrett Trevaithan had set up the Empire to fall. Tehy objected to the imperial star destroyer being left at Garqi after it had already been severely damaged, and had all the more to say when Garqi fell to the rebels, the imperial star destroyer turned to scrap metal, and new pressure felt on a dozen worlds along the Braxant Run, all left vulnerable by the now deeply held position of the enemy.

Agamar. Phadea. Generis. Ord Canfre and others had reported rebel scout ships in their systems, and small raiding parties aimed at weakening defenses one by one and disappearing before reinforcements could appear. It was a tactic the Empire had used until recently.

There were also reports from the Southwest, that worlds in the Deep Core portion of the empire were also beginning to see signs of rebel scouts. The Empire's border had grown long and thin and in various places was weakly defended. According to reports from throughout, only the very core base of the Empire, where Bastion was located, and the area around Byss itself, were still heavily enough defended, while the imperial fleet was spread out. Even newer holdings further south - worlds conquered far from the meddling rebel hands - had not bolstered the Empire's standing much, as those worlds needed defense from the lawlessness and piracy that plagued the southern hemisphere of the galaxy.

And still, Emperor Schrag seemed to follow the advice of Trevaithan.

They decided for the good of the Empire, they had to take matters into their own hands.

With an armed contingent of two dozen hand-picked stormtroopers, the members of the high command moved through the bowels of the imperial palace on Bastion, heading to the tactical room where Barrett Trevaithan did his work.

With luck, the encounter would be short, with no link back to them, and they could go on with the work of repairing the Empire.

They reached the solid durasteel door. First, the door was locked. Blasters raised and fired, and finally, after much convincing, the door gave way, hissing open.

The stormtroopers filed into the room.

Inside, a dozen monitors were displaying the broadcast from around the galaxy, and in the center of the room, a holo-projection. Barrett was nowhere to be found.

The troopers were about to leave, when the holo-projection began to shift, zooming in.

"Commander, you had best come see this"

The top-brass shuffled into the room after the troopers, watching as the holo board zoomed in on Bastion, displaying the planet's defenses in imperial blue. Then they saw a blinking red light, indicative of enemies.

"it says there are enemies on the surface of Bastion - but how can that be? we've had no reports"

THe image zoomed in further, and they could see a schematic of the palace itself. Various blue dots scattered throughout, and still, a clump of red dots. The room grew quiet as it zoomed in further, the red dots were clumped in a single room deep in the bowels of the palace.

"Commander - the red dots ... it's us. WE are the enemy."

The holo-image showed dozens of blue dots moving closer and closer to the position of the red dots, and suddenly, they heard the whine of blasters being charged behind them.

"Drop your weapons"

THe commanders turned to find nearly 50 elite guards standing at the door, weapons raised. Outnumbering their stormtroopers by at least 2-to-1.

One by one, the commanders, and their trooper squad dropped weapons to the floor. That was when the monitors on the wall changed, showing instead of newscasts, the face of Barrett Trevaithan.

"You should have trusted my judgment. But I knew better. Your arrogance has blinded you to see what I am doing is best for the Empire. And therefore, you will no longer be of use to Emperor Schrag. You don't have the vision needed. And you tried to destroy the ones who did. By the authority of Emperor Schrag, I convict you all of treason and sentence you to death"

The screen went dead and the commanders looked, horrorstruck as the elite guards opened fire.

******************************

Trevaithan turned away from the comm unit and faced Emperor Schrag.

Your highness, we should leak these deaths to the rebels. Let them know you acted against your commanders with poor advice. And then order me to send the message to the repbulic, asking for a meeting.

Schrag nodded his head, his mouth upturned in a tight smile.

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on August 19, 2015, 02:51:43 PM

Garqi

Trevaithan spent most of the trip locked away in his private quarters, reviewing his notes. He had spent all of his time studying the Republic, and the specific delegates who he would be interacting with. The high profile ones mattered the most.

Senator Artemis Soldys was likely to be a skeptic, and would be even more so if he came on too strong. Suspicion ran deep (and rightfully so).
Senator Ingrat would likely feign protest, but would be the easiest to win over, with promises of more power and influence.
Secretary Brad Neis, though not the most outspoken of the group, was the most important. He was the head of the rebel delegation, and had the ear of the Speaker. Win him, and these meetings would be a success. Neis would respond to cordiality - show him that Trevaithan, speaker for the emperor, was not a stingy military type. Break with formality, and that would appear endearing. Barrett Trevaithan was young, and that would help his image.

Trevaithan also sized up his own delegation. Most of the commanders with him were newly promoted, after the previous ones had been summarily executed. They were older than him, yes, but they knew he was in charge, and while they each were given specific tasks and had their areas of expertise and concern, no one would contradict him. He was certain of that.

As the ship exited hyperspace, he rolled his eyes at the abundance of precaution and effort put in to make sure his little ship didn't mean sabotage or a trick. The rebels were foolish in their own way. They didn't understand patience - yes, of course this was all a ruse, but the Empire wouldn't waste their trap by springing it now. Not now, or even in the next few months or possibly years. This was a trap that would spring when others had forgotten there was any thought of concern. The beauty of the plan.

Stepping out of the ship, he couldn't help but notice his soldiers seemed figity - they didn't know how to stand without a rifle in their hands. Best not keep them prone for too long. He immediately approached the lead delegate, putting out his hand.

"My name is Barrett Trevaithan, Special Advisor to the Emperor and Envoy for the Galactic Empire."

The Secretary seemed slightly taken aback by the casual nature of Trevaithan, who smiled and turned introducing his subordinates before turning back to the secretary.

"I look forward to our conversations here. I have been hoping for peace for a long time"

"The empire instigated the war. We could have had peace long ago"

Trevaithan nodded, respectfully, then added in his own tone of annoyance, all the better to appease the rebels. "It's hard for the Empire to let of the image of the republic as anything but rebels. I wish we had learned sooner. But Emperor Schrag agrees that the best interests of the Empire would involve peace. It's time for us to repair. To mend. I hope these talks will be the start of that"

"I hope so too"

With that, the imperials were invited into the station, and Barrett's work was really about to begin.

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on September 03, 2015, 01:56:45 PM

Garqi

The table was filled with delegates - mostly uniformed men on the imperial side, Barrett alone wearing less formal garb, while from the Republic side, a variety of senators and counselors, with Secretary Brad Neis sitting directly across from Trevaithan. It was Neis who started the conversation, and Barrett was all too happy to let him take the initiative. For now.

"You said that Emperor Schrag wants peace. He wants to end the war. But what does peace mean to you? If peace is just a stop in the Republic offensive, time for the Empire to rebuild its fleet, and then end, than that is not a peace the Republic can accept. These are the terms that we are proposing in terms of a peace agreement"

He slid a datapad across the table and Barrett picked it up, glancing down at the list with his best sabacc face on.
Conditions of Peace:
-Official declaration of end of war
-Reparations for damages suffered from imperial attacks on Ithor, Vinsoth, Dathomir, Bandomeer, Taris, Junction, Besh Gorgan, Bastion
-Withdrawal of imperial claim of sovereignty over all territory north of Nirauan (grid 5-I) and all territory east of Ylix (grid 7-M). Including Bastion and the entire Braxant Sector, all worlds in the Tingel Arm, and all worlds along the Braxant Run excluding Phaeda
-Demilitarized Zone in all outer-rim and mid-rim imperial holdings
-Dismantling imperial war fleets to defensive capabilities only
-Refrain from future expansion of territory
-Republic inspectors to have access to all imperial worlds and fleet logs to ensure compliance

The list of course was absurd. Asking for reparations from Bastion, a world long held by the Empire, because the rebels had attacked and lost, and then asking the empire to give up literally the entire northeast portion of their territory was a deal breaker. Barrett was certain this was just the opening salvo. Tough terms to start, so they have room to negotiate.

After several minutes of reviewing the list, he put down the pad, shaking his head.

"We haven't lost the war yet. These are terms a victor might impose on a soundly defeated enemy."

"We are poised to win this war, within striking distance of Bastion, a growing fleet."
"You've had a handful of strong wins - and some equally strong losses. Death on both sides, but the Empire is more disciplined. And doesn't require popular support for successes. Peace benefits the Republic just as it does the Empire. So let us discuss this as equals - as two parties seeking a common goal. Or else we are wasting our time"

Secretary Neis had on his sabacc face on as well.

"Perhaps we are wasting our time. Let me put it straight to you, Envoy Trevaithan - we don't trust you. The empire has proven time and again that you are untrustworthy"
"So let's negotiate as two peoples who don't trust each other - but equals nonetheless."
Neis paused before speaking again.
"Do you have a counter offer?"

There it was - the negotiations. The trick was always not giving away everything at once.

"Establish the border between the Empire and Republic along the Hydian Way. Bandomeer, Taris, Null, Junction all will be Republic worlds. Dathomir, Vinsoth, Erkit, Kataar, and areas further north will be imperial. Bogden, Brentaal, and the Corellian Sector will be the Republic's western border, and worlds east would be imperial, including Anaxes, Vulpter, Ebaq. Each side withdraws any claim of sovereignty over territory belonging to the other.

As for reparations - the empire will pay for damage done to the republic in the Besh Gorgan system. It will not repay any reparations to any successor to the Trade Federation, nor to any planets that were significantly disputed, including Bandomeer.

The Empire agrees to maintain only a defensive fleet in the north."

Barrett paused for a minute, gauging the reaction from the other side. So much for hiding feelings - Barrett could detect the distrust and suspicion on Neis's face. Or maybe that was the Force-sensitivity thing that Darth Erinbol had told him about - the intuitive sensing of what others thought or did. He would have to ask the sith-lord about that when he returned. For now, he had one other item.

"And we want a representative in the republic senate"
"The Republic doesn't allow non-members a vote in the senate"

"The Republic has in the past invited various entities to have representation, voting or not in the senate. Corellia for ten years had non-voting privileges, and two years ago, gained not one but several votes, basically as a bloc. The Empire is not part of the Republic, doesn't want to be a part of the republic, but wants a voice to be heard, to negotiate, to maintain the peace. And unlike the corellians, we are asking for one individual for the entire empire, not one for each imperial world."

This was when Artemis Soldys spoke up. Representative from Corellia, and defacto head of the sector's caucus, comparing the empire to the corellian sector made sense to trigger a reaction.

"Corellia disbanded the Confederation before joining the Republic. Would the Empire disband as well?"
"Certainly not - that is why we are asking for one representative"
"Voting or non-voting?"
"Just a voice. We don't need to vote on your internal politics" not yet, at least "We just want to be present for the conversation"
Artemis was about to speak again when the secretary raised his hand to stop him, turning to face Barrett.

"Your proposed terms leave much to be desired - but we can review your proposal and see if there is ground for us to work with. Let's reconvene tomorrow at the same time"

Barrett smiled.

"That would be my pleasure"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on September 17, 2015, 01:27:16 PM

Garqi

The initial meeting had been relatively short - each side offering their best (or worst offer), each claiming that was what was necessary to end the war - and of course, each willing to give and take.

Negotiations were all about giving away as little as possible, treating each concession as valuable, and only acceptable for equally valuable concessions from the other side. A good negotiator could sneak in more, and of course, most of the issues had no objective value - a planet might have certain worth in terms of incomes, but it's strategic location, political muscle, etc., could all be measured against different sized sticks.

For days and days and days, the negotiations went back and forth, each side moving a little closer to the other - but not too close. A suggestion of "let's meet in the middle" would be seen as a mark of weakness, and negotiations would then proceed from that as the starting point. So it was all painstaking.

The Republic, for it's part, did not oppose an imperial representative, an ambassador, on Chandaar, so long as it complied with security protocols, and the Empire did not really care if it paid for additional reparations. The Empire would not hand over the north out of hand, and the Republic would not simply maintain the status quo.

Barrett had been playing his cards close to the vest, worming his way forward on each step.

Still, the negotiations were painstaking, slow. He had limits to what he could authorize, though not many, but if he gave away too much too fast, it would look suspicious.

It was two weeks in to the negotiations when the territory in the north was again being discussed.

"Again, we aren't just giving away worlds"

"These are worlds that have been subjugated by the Empire and would be free under the Republic"

"It's not freedom subjecting yourself to the wills of another government so far away. The Empire has greater stability, structure, justice. That's more valuable than the chaos of democracy. But besides, if you use the argument 'republic is better than empire' you are effectively saying that the Empire should be dissolved - and we cannot negotiate with anyone who thinks we should cease to exist."

"You feel the Republic should not exist"

Barrett stared, letting the silence seep into the room, making everyone feel uncomfortable. And then he nodded. He couldn't argue otherwise - the Empire had been hell bent on destroying the Republic (and vice versa) for the past two decades, depending how you counted.

"We felt that way. Not anymore. That's the point of this peace attempt. To say 'we recognize your right to exist.' That has to be the starting point. We are willing, as part of these negotiations, to recognize your right to exist. But you need to do the same. You need to accept the legitimacy of the Empire. If you cannot, than we are just wasting our time."

Barrett rose, his uniformed men standing as well, the Republic representatives staring shocked as Barrett walked out of the room, one commander moving to his side and whispering.

"Sir, was that ... wise?"

Barrett stopped walking turning to the commander, cold fury in his eyes.

"You will never question me like that again, commander, or you will find yourself where your predecessors are"

"Sir, I just meant ..."

Barrett's look silenced him.

"Of course, sir. I apologize, sir."

Pathetic - this was an imperial commander? He did not have the strength to speak up, nor the cunning to realize what Barrett had done.

Barrett turned and continued walking back to the imperial quarters. And waited. It was an hour later when he received a note, slipped under his door.

as part of any deal, the Republic will recognize the legitimacy of the Empire's right to exist and it's form of government

Even without a war, he was already winning.

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on October 20, 2015, 01:58:11 PM

Garqi

"You would give them a choice?"

"Absolutely - let the decision be up to the citizens. which government is best suited for them. The Empire, with its order, stability, justice; or the Republic, with its cacophony of voices. If they want to be in a democracy, then so be it."

It seemed like too simple a solution for what to do with the northern worlds between the Hydian Way and the Braxant Sector. Weeks of going back and forth on what worlds like Garqi, Ithor, and Dantooine would do, and under whose authority, solved with the simplest of notions: let them decide.

The idea had the air of democracy and choice that would be appealing to the negotiators from the Republic.

"But - there can be no question of leaving them as second hand worlds. If they choose to join the Republic, it will be as full members. Not languishing like Corellia did for ten years."

The Corellian Senator nodded his head in agreement. Artemis Soldys was well aware of the feeling of second-class status. All the easier to get this part of the agreement through. The other negotiators took the cue, and one more item was checked off the list.

"So, the Hydian-Way worlds will remain under Republic control. Bastion, Kalee, Muunilinst, Valc VII, Yaga Minor and Borosk will remain under imperial control, and all the worlds in between - regardless of who currently commands them - will have their choice. We have already settled on the Empire paying for reparations to the Republic for Besh Gorgon, Junction, and Bandomeer. And we have agreed that Bastion and the Northern Empire will maintain only a defensive positioned fleet. The Empire will have a non-voting representative in the Republic, accompanied by an embassy, with a combined imperial/republic security attachment. Each entity recognizes the borders with the other, and the other's sovereign right to exist, and agree to an end of hostilities indefinitely."

"And republic inspectors"
"Still a lack of trust? Very well - republic inspectors will be permitted into imperial space on a routine basis - once every four standard months - to ensure no military build up in the north. That is the best offer I can give"

Secretary Neis leaned back in his chair, raising a hand to scratch his chin.

"Very well. It looks like we have a deal."

"It does appear that way"

"It will need to be ratified by the senate before we can make it binding"

Barrett smiled.

"The task is easier for me - I need the approval of a single man."

Neis shook his head, beginning to rise, Trevaithan standing as well.

"Perhaps, to help spur the approval of said agreement, we can arrange for the Emperor or myself to come to Chandaar and appear before the senate? it would be a signal of our trust and mutual desire to end this conflict"

"I will have to speak with the Speaker about such an arrangment"

"Excellent."

The Republic representatives made their way out of the room, Barrett watching them shuffle out, then turned to an aide.

"Ready my shuttle, and inform the Emperor that I am coming to see him"
"Yes sir"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on December 24, 2015, 02:00:17 PM

Chandaar: Republic Capital
Surface: Ambaril

The Emperor's presence had created tension among the senators. Barrett could tell which ones were skeptical and which ones were hopeful - there really were only two categories, though a handful of people were both.

Like Senator Soldys of Corellia, whose support was essential to making the treaty go forward, but who clearly still had his reservations. This visit would help assuage some of the fears held by the lawmakers of the democracy. The Emperor took the opportunity to meet with dozens of senators, Speaker Leeds moderated, careful to ensure the hatred and resentment held by some parties did not derail the conversations. The Emperor took the chance to discuss the details of the deal, answer questions of senators, and seek reassurances of his own.

it was part of the strategy - make sure in every conversation it was clear the EMPIRE was concerned that the REPUBLIC would be the deal breakers. It put them on the defensive, and allowed for a more smooth path toward ratification. The Emperor was scheduled to appear before the full senate tomorrow, to give a 'prime-time' speech. He had just finished his last small-group session, and was traveling in his armored transport back to the N'Diya building.

Barrett was glancing out the window, watching the buildings go by when the emperor spoke.

"I cannot abide by this method of governance. Too many heads, arguing, bickering"

Barrett turned to the Emperor.

"It is the REpublic's weakness. The Empire is strong because it has one voice, strong and unwaivering. The Republic cannot make up their minds because there are too many"
"Unless they have a common enemy. If this deal fails, they will have that in us, will they not?"

Barrett gave a thin-lipped smile.

"If we attack them, yes. But until we are aggressors, we are not an enemy they can unite against. Besides, we have the votes needed to win. Senator Soldys and Senator Ingrat command huge caucuses at opposite ends of the political spectrum. Their continued agreement to this deal, and the momentum we have will ensure a vote in favor. And if it takes longer ... it just shows the Republic as weak. Speaker Leeds will use what influence he has to shorten the process as much as possible."

"I will want you to stay on Chandaar when the deal goes through"

"Of course, your emminence"

The silence returned until the vehicle reached their destination, and they filed out. Once inside, they were greeted by Darth Erinbol. The sith had insisted on coming on this trip,a nd Emperor Schrag indulged him. Nonetheless, he was not allowed anywhere near the buildings of governance - nothing would spook the republic from the deal more than knowing a Force-wielding sith was among them. Barrett himself, though still weak in the abilities of the Force, had spent the last few months training with Erinbol to hide his own Force signature so he could get past the detectors. Erinbol decided it would be unwise to risk discovery more than necessary.

"Your highness" Erinbol bowed low.
"What do you have to report?"
"We have been invited to Escara Wu's fashion show, scheduled for later this evening."

Schrag lifted an arm dismissively.

"I'm not interested. Do you have anything meaningful to report?"

Erinbol grinned knowingly

"I foresee everything going to plan. There is one in this show that you might be interested to meet - again"

Barrett glanced from Darth Erinbol to the Emperor and back again. Schrag's face was emotionless as he looked at the sith, but finally nodded.

"Very well. Accept their invitation, and make arrangements for us to meet with her after the show"

The Emperor moved down the corridor and out of sight, Barrett turning to the sith lord.

"Who are we meeting?"

"Princess Dahlia Winton"

Trevaithan gave a look of annoyance.

"the tragic fashion model? I think I'll pass"

"I insist you go, young Trevaithan. The meeting - the Emperor's presence is not as important, but it is time you meet her."

"Why? Who is she?"

"She is your destiny"

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on January 05, 2016, 11:40:15 AM

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Serinus

The evening after the Emperor's speech to the Republic Senate, the fashion show commences in Serinus. All the glitterati are there. The convention center, not far from The Menagerie, has been transformed into a luxurious setting where guests arrive to a crimson carpet and lifestyle and culture Holo reporters clamor for a sound bite. Spotlights sway above the venue, giving it all the glamour it deserves.

Kinsa Cavanaugh attends with Janessa Kain and Kaytt Corinthos.

The most important designers are showing this evening and with the New Year comes a shift in fashion. It is more a return to form, an elegant simplicity that defines the upper class. Escara Wu greets celebrities, dignitaries and a few fashion savvy government officials and corrals them into the reception hall.

A section is cordoned off for the Imperial delegation but all that arrives is the Emperor, his young Ambassador, and an ominous looking security detail. The Emperor seems out of place, too rigid for this kind of nonsense. He appears annoyed with the Republic liaison that arrived with them and so Escara steers clear for the moment.

Backstage, everyone is appropriately freaking out.

Quinn paces in a bra, panties and heels in front of Dahlia who sits with her legs crossed in the makeup chair.

"Stop pacing. You are driving me insane."

"What if the Emperor hates it? What if none of us please him and he goes on some psychotic rampage and kills us all?"

"Seriously?"

"I heard he had the Moff Council killed."

"Military advisors are expendable, especially when they don't perform tactically. We're just pretty things wandering around on a glowing stage. Trust me, he doesn't care."

Frankly, she is surprised Schrag is even here. She imagines the conversation in which he was convinced to come and how poorly it went. It makes Dahlia smile that he is taking one for the team and feigning an interest in Republic life when it is quite clear he'd rather be anywhere else. You have to commit to the role in order to sell it. If it's peace he wants, he's going to have to suck it up for the sake of the deal.

Electronic music pulses and lights are dimmed around the stark white runway.

Dahlia walks four times during the show. The lights are too bright to make out anyone in the crowd, reducing the audience to faceless silhouettes. She closes out the show in a Nalaa Grey black, strapless mermaid evening gown. When the lights go down, the applause is deafening. As it should be. These lines will set the stylistic tone for the year.

Afterward, a production assistant hands her a note that directs her to one of the interior conference rooms. She finds Escara Wu coming out of the door.

"Oh, Dahlia! The Emperor wishes to speak with you. What a coup, if I do say so myself. The publicity from his presence is priceless."

Dahlia smiles wanly, waving a hand in front of her face. Escara's mind is frantic but accessible and it clears easily.

"You never saw them here. They never spoke to me."

"I never saw them," Escara says dreamily. "They never spoke to you."

"Good, now go tend to the others. I'm sure someone's had a panic attack by now."

Escara leaves and Dahlia enters the room.

Emperor Schrag stands in the center of the room with a brutally hot boy standing beside him. She is stunning but Barrett has serious reservations about this, made all the more confusing by Erinbol's comments. He had been drawn to her before, on the Holo, back in school, when her kidnapping and subsequent failed rescue attempt made headlines. She appeared next in the Republic capital, having murdered her way to freedom. This was followed by the revelation that she was the last Winton royal.

He had high hopes until she became a model and It-girl for the media. Barrett dismissed her exploits as vapid and wasteful, perpetuating a stereotype about wealthy socialites he found repugnant.

"Emperor Schrag," she says with a flawless curtsy. "How lovely you could join us this evening. We are all honored."

"There is something to be said for certain appearances."

"I could not agree more."

"I do not believe you have met my Ambassador, Barrett Trevaithan. Barrett, this is Princes Dahlia Winton."

She smiles. He does not.

"Yes, I know who you are. The question remains…why are we here?"

"She is an ally."

Barrett's face twists in disgust.

"Her? Forgive me, your highness but I do not see what she can bring to the table."

With a flick of her wrist, Barrett is thrown back against the wall. He slides up toward the ceiling, thrashing, as she closes her fingers together constricting his breath. He gasps and the Emperor watches, amused.

Dahlia arches a brow.

"For starters, I helped rid you of the Jedi by influencing the powers-that-be into passing the F.U.R.A. With the Jedi expelled from Chandaar, it cleared the way for your presence here, one that would not be possible with them meddling in everything. By now Speaker Leeds has been saturated with enough dark energy to make him more susceptible to our agenda."

Barrett is choking, his face turning purple.

"Enough," Schrag hisses lowly. "Dahlia, release him."

She steps back and Barrett crashes to the floor. They wait as he collects himself.

She flashes a satisfied smirk.

"Have you any other questions about my usefulness of shall we play again?"

"Dahlia," Schrag warns.

"I'm just asking. He seems unconvinced."

"No," Barrett sputters, clearing his throat. "I misjudged your strengths and abilities."

"Appearances are made to deceive."

"So I see."

"Is that an apology?"

His jaw tightens, glancing at Schrag whose face is a neutral mask. He then returns his gaze to Dahlia.

"I am sorry I doubted you."

"That's better," she says. "Now, how can I be of assistance?"

Emperor Schrag turns.

"I have a task for you. The intent is to leave a liaison on Chandaar, someone to oversee our interests. I intend to leave Barrett but any Imperial diplomat or ambassador will never be trusted. Our treaty is too new to be widely accepted. There are so many who disapprove, so many who find our motives suspect. While it may appear outwardly shallow, I do recognize your talent for marketing. Perhaps with your profile and the regard in which the public holds you, Barrett's image could be neutralized."

"You want me to make him popular?"

He grimaces.

"A socially accepted liaison would hold more favor. His negotiations with the Republic Senators were tense. They remain wary. I need this to change. Can it be done?"

Dahlia looks Barrett over, "With the right moves."

"I leave that to you."

The Imperial guards collect the Emperor and Barrett is alone with Dahlia.

"This is ridiculous," he says with barely concealed contempt. "I do not need you to legitimize my presence here. I took on Senators twice my age and convinced them this is the best course of action. I can hold my own."

Dahlia glares at him.

"In a board room, perhaps but changing the hearts and minds of the public takes a certain skill set you simply do not possess. When I revealed my identity, there was also backlash and suspicion. A Winton on the loose is a variable that makes some uncomfortable. Now they hang on my every word. The public roots for me. They want to see me succeed. They love a tale of redemption, a story of the victim who overcomes the crisis and rises above it to do something great. All they needed was a change in the narrative, a different perspective from which to view me."

"I think you mistake adoration with sick fascination."

"I think you need an attitude adjustment, mister."

"I don't like you."

"I don't like you either but you are taking me to dinner."

"What?"

"You heard me," Dahlia quips evenly. "You are far too upright. With that approach, no one will ever see you as anything other than an Imperial blowhard. They won't respect someone they can't relate to. In order to alter the public perception of the Empire, you need to humanize it. They need to see you as a reasonable person, not someone full of ulterior motive waiting to exploit this deal for your advantage. Right now, they are waiting for the other shoe to drop. You have to eliminate that fear and to do that you need to appeal to a wider audience."

Although he hates to admit it, there is tactical advantage in her plan. Superficial as it may be. How could Darth Erinbol really view her as his destiny? She is so self-involved it is almost unbearable. She knows nothing of the intricacies of politics or what it takes to deal with a government as large and complex as the Republic. Still, her dark powers are considerable and may be a useful asset to them. Would her talents soften his image enough for the Republic to actually trust him?

Emperor Schrag seems to think so.

"Fine," he sighs. "Dinner it is."

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on January 11, 2016, 02:09:02 PM

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface

Barrett reluctantly joins Dahlia at the after-party where she introduces him around to various celebrities and influential Republic society. Her presence seems to negate the Imperial prefix to his title in a way he finds mystifying. No one seems to care about his affiliation as much as they do that Dahlia's hand is on his arm. The reception is warmer than expected and she expertly evades all inquiries. He speaks only when spoken to and even then his responses are carefully measured.

Everywhere they go, people call Dahlia's name and there is a seemingly endless barrage of air kisses and idle gossip. He tries to keep the distain from registering on his face.

As a student on Byss he had never been one to socialize. Barrett never saw the value in cavorting around with the privileged and entitled. His only friend at the Carida Academy, Quentin, is really the one person with which he found camaraderie. The Emperor and Darth Erinbol had to be interacted with tactfully as each held their own agenda for him.

Now he feels like a prop in Dahlia's pretentious little world.

The only one who seems remotely alarmed at his presence is the Corporate Sector liaison, Janessa Kain whom Dahlia swears would be a vital contact in the future. Everyone else treats him like a shiny new toy and they want to know all about him.

Dahlia senses his discomfort and steers him out of the party.

"That's enough for now," she says, pulling a shawl around her shoulders.

"You could have just shot me. That would have been less painful."

She rolls her eyes up.

"Don't be so melodramatic. People need to see you actually participating in and enjoying Republic life if you are going to have a presence here. You need to appear receptive and conciliatory to their ways. Embrace them and they will embrace you. Also, it wouldn't kill you to smile."

"It might."

"Scowling causes wrinkles."

"I'll risk it."

She crosses her arms.

"Well, I certainly have my work cut out for me. Maybe a nice meal will soften your mood."

"Couldn't hurt."

They take a hoverlimo out of Serinus and return to Ambaril. Inverness Park East is the latest in the food scene and they stride into the packed lobby of the newest hot spot, Humboldt. She takes his hand and moves right through the crowd to the host stand. He tries to pull free but her grip is like a vice. The host glances up and smiles.

"Princess Dahlia, will you dining with us tonight?"

"Yes, for two please."

"Right this way."

No one in the crowd even blinks and he follows them through the packed space in confusion.

"Don't you need reservations?"

"Normal people do."

"Wow, bitch much?" he mumbles as they arrive at the table.

She nods to the host and then narrows her eyes at him.

"A bitch who can snap you in half without lifting a finger. Now sit."

Barrett sits without another word, his throat still tender from when she nearly Force choked him to death. She smiles and leans forward.

"I'm trying to help you so do me a favor and lighten up."

"I'm not…this isn't really my thing."

"What? Eating? Maker, I get enough of that from Quinn. I thought the way to all boys' hearts was through their stomachs?"

"You're trying to get to my heart?"

"No," she says quickly, sitting back. "It's just, like, a thing people say."

"Interesting."

"Oh, get over yourself."

Barrett studies her closely, "You don't date much, do you?"

"This isn't a date, its dinner and strategy. However, we will let people believe it's a date because it will be widely discussed and raise your profile. We need the Holo to talk about you in a positive way."

"I'm not sure dining with you is the way to go then."

"Why do you say that?"

"Well, didn't your family do some fucked up shit?"

"So?"

"So, you aren't as adored as you think you are. People are suspicious, possibly even terrified. You said it yourself; a Winton on the loose is a variable not everyone is comfortable with. They may be waiting for me to have an ulterior motive but they are also waiting for you to go bat-shit crazy and take a whole lot of people down with you."

She smiles tightly.

"It is nice to know you understand how this game works but you are forgetting one thing."

"What's that?"

"I wasn't raised by my family. I was raised by upstanding and well respected people in the Corporate Sector before I was kidnapped and tortured but somehow managed to survive and fight my way to freedom."

"Yes, by murdering someone. Cheers!"

"Since when does the Empire have the moral high ground?"

Barrett shrugs.

"I'm just saying, the Republic is as wary of you as they are of me."

"Point taken but only one of us has done anything about it. I've worked long and hard to ensure they hold me in high regard. By all outward appearances, I'm a role model who may be a bit superficial but doesn't invite much scandal. I've intentionally made myself out to be benign, the antithesis of my family who left nothing but a trail of blood and tears where ever they went."

"As long as you believe that."

"You are infuriating."

"And you can't take it. I have to let you boss me around for the sake of some reputation but I'm not allowed to point out the flaws in your logic?"

"It's not flawed," Dahlia hisses contemptuously while still managing to look incredibly poised and beautiful. "You are making this more difficult than it has to be."

"I think you need someone to knock you down a few pegs."

"That someone has to be you?"

"Might as well be so long as I have to suffer through this."

She groans.

"It's just so terrible that you have to act like a civilized person to win the favor of your newfound peers. No one is ever going to want to deal with you if you act like some pompous jerk."

"Says you."

"Look, the Senate is divisive and more conniving than you even realize. They have the home field advantage here. They will take you down if they see the slightest opportunity so now is not the time to get cocky. Not everyone wants peace with the Empire. They feel you are too great a threat. I can help you change that."

Barrett levels his gaze across the table and ceases posturing.

"So what do you want?"

"What?"

"You heard me," he says evenly. "Everyone may not want a truce with the Empire but what about you? The Emperor said you are an ally and a secret one at that so I have wonder what your angle is."

She goes for coy, acting offended.

"I have to have an angle?"

"I am not that dense, Princess. Everyone has an agenda. I want to know what yours is. Why help our cause, what do you get out of it?"

"The satisfaction of knowing I helped topple the Republic from within."

"You hate the Republic?"

"I hate what they stand for. It's so provincial and altruistic I could just puke."

He smiles for the first time.

"Then what?"

"That's none of your damn business but….you are much less hostile when you smile."

After dinner, she has the hoverlimo drop him at his hotel.

"This evening wasn't entirely unbearable."

"That's a start," she says.

"How much longer are you in town?"

"Aw, missing me already?"

He sighs, reaching for the door. She grabs his arm.

"Another week or so. We can work on your image in the interim. I will give you enough pointers to make due until I return."

"What would I do without you?"

"Sarcasm doesn't look good on you."

"Who are you kidding?" he says with a sly smile. "Everything looks good on me."

Dahlia watches him walk up the steps and disappear inside the hotel lobby. He doesn't even look back which annoys her more than it should. She instructs the driver to take her back to The Menagerie. The multi-colored lights blur as the limo weaves in and out of traffic lanes. Barrett had hit a nerve and made her question just how secure the worlds are with her in it. True, the name Winton does conjure some pretty unpleasant things but she has spent a great deal of time and energy shoring up her reputation to set it apart from her family. The Emperor has faith in her and that says something. Still, she wonders what Adubell has at stake here.

As she refuses to be used by her Master, she doesn't want Barrett to be used by Schrag or Erinbol either. They throw around the word 'destiny' like it's inevitable but Dahlia has a more direct approach to her future. She doesn't want it being decided by everyone else, the same way it was with Karen and Alexia. The Emperor, Adubell; they are means to an end so she would play her role and play it well.

Barrett Trevaithan will be the toast of this town.

Dahlia will make sure of that.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on January 31, 2016, 06:39:47 PM

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Over the next few days, Emperor Schrag and Barrett meet with many Senators as well as Speaker Leeds. There is much to discuss in the terms of the truce, semantics and practicalities that would forge lasting peace. These conversations are often contentious and grueling as the opinions and suspicions make their way into the discussion.

There is a reception to be held with several prominent government figures following the peace talks but the social aspects of such an event give him pause. He is calculating and formidable with the Senators but the notion of hours long polite small talk requires reinforcements. He reluctantly calls on Dahlia. They had seen each twice since the night of the fashion show, each encounter furthering his integration into the collective consciousness. She is not at all surprised to hear from him but plays it that way.

"You…want me to attend the reception with you?"

"That's why I called, didn't I? Also, this isn't a date either. In case you were wondering."

"I wasn't."

"Okay good, glad that's cleared up."

"Tell me again how you can wheel and deal with a bunch of politicians yet somehow fail to convincingly interact with others in a social setting?"

"I'm hanging up."

"No, you aren't. I want to hear you say it."

Barrett mumbles something.

"I'm sorry, what?"

"I need your help."

He can almost hear her satisfied smile across the channel.

"There it is. Pick me up at six."

Hours later, dressed in a fitted black tuxedo that Dahlia had sent over with a tailor who was a little too hand-sy, he waits at the entrance of The Menagerie. She takes an excruciatingly long time to come down, a deliberate move to make him anxious. He is pacing in front of the transport when she appears through the door. She is effortlessly stunning in a tight, black, strapless mermaid gown. Her crimson hair is left down with classic waves that pull into tighter curls near the ends. Her eyes are shadowed with a gradient of charcoal and black, setting off her emerald eyes that not surprisingly match the jewels on her black clutch. Then there is her mouth, stained a deeper red, which he cannot help but stare at.

"Well?"

He snaps out of it and shrugs, "Eh."

Her face falls.

"I hate you."

"Don't be mad I'm not one of your many minions fawning over you with compliments. Being hot doesn't make you a better person."

"Doesn't it though?"

"Trust me when I tell you that your delusions are in no way endearing."

She takes his arm, "We all know that's not true."

In the transport, they are taken out of Serinus and back through Five Points to the government district of Ambaril.

"I hope you brushed up on current events."

"The what?" she feigns, rolling her eyes. "Why yes, mister Trevaithan, I am knowledgeable about a great many things."

"I am certain you will regale them with your vast expanse of popular culture."

"Give me some credit."

"Contrary to popular belief, social climbing is not a skill set."

"Seldom right and wrong again, B. You are going to have to perfect it in order to navigate their endless array of bullshit speculation and paranoia. The Republic isn't going to wake up tomorrow and suddenly trust you. That trust has to be earned and since I don't see that happening any time soon due your stunted emotional range and general lack of basic social skills, we're going to have to resort of manipulation in order for them to believe it."

"Believe what?"

"That you are serious about wanting this. Peace. To them, peace isn't a word they thought was in your vernacular. They need to be reassured you aren't holding out or planning to take advantage of this opportunity to prove them right about you. They have such low expectations of you as a person. Surprise them."

"And you are just full of surprises, aren't you?"

"You have no idea."

Barrett leans back and crosses his arms.

"What do I get if I succeed?"

Dahlia runs a hand across her breasts, down her stomach and into her lap.

"Not this, I can tell you that much."

He frowns.

She narrows her eyes.

"Focus! Emperor Schrag is never going to be seen as a viable confidante. He's all rough edges and ruthlessness. That's why you need to be the one who sells it. If you want to change the way they see the Empire, you have to be both intelligent and approachable. They have been receptive so far and that's a good start. Make them want to get to know you or at least the version of yourself we need them to believe. If they see you as a decent person, this can work."

"What if I'm not a decent person?"

"Then you are going to have to suck it up for the sake of the endgame."

The transport stops near the courthouse as the driver exits to open the door for them. Barrett steps out first then offers a hand. She steps out and stands beside him while the press turns to capture the moment. Their names are shouted, his as well as hers. She smiles demurely.

"They are curious. Don't disappoint."

Barrett attempts a smile of his own and she takes his arm in support, walking past the courthouse to the Ambaril Art Musem where the reception is being held. They are greeted by Senators, city council and nearly every facet of Republic society. Dahlia takes the lead, as most are familiar with her and her story of survival, and steers him through the welcoming committee. She holds her own marvelously with a robust knowledge of Republic affairs tinged with news from The Corporate Sector. Barrett chimes in at all the right times, taking cues as she squeezes his arm. He skirts having to share his upbringings with references to time at the Academy. Although not everyone can relate to the military experience, it is something they can respect.

As Barrett and Dahlia wander back through the exhibits, Senator Artemis Soldys stops beside Janessa Kain thoughtfully taking in an early impressionist work. She faces the painting; he faces the room with eyes following the liaison and princess.

"What do you think of that?"

She tilts her head.

"Troubling."

"I wasn't talking about the piece."

"Nor was I," she says, raising a glass of champagne before walking away.

Back in the abstract wing, Dahlia stops in front of a massive gray-washed canvas. It contains two sets of black, cloudy spirals on opposite corners with a jagged crimson streak running left of the center.

"Do you know who this is?"

Barrett squints at it, "I'm not really into the whole art scene."

"There's a shocker," Dahlia mutters. "It is a Bastien McNeal."

"Why does that sound familiar?"

"Because one of my sisters dated his son and the other threw him off a skyscraper."

"That's…teamwork?"

"Not exactly. My parents had a piece commissioned for their vacation residence on Hesperidium. This was long before the whole, you know, Coruscant boom thing. I got to see it for the first time last summer. It's one of the most moving pieces I have seen but this one may even be more stirring."

"Fascinating. I thought you said we had to focus."

"Relax, you did great. I told you being pretty and personable goes a long way."

"You talked around them and they ate it up like fools."

"I gave them nothing they could use, just an impression of who we are. The trick is to always have them wanting more. The Academy bit was an inspired touch. They think highly of valor and discipline."

"What do you think?"

"That you are full of shit but managing remarkably well."

"Are you always this frigid?"

Dahlia turns.

"Says the calculating Imperial cohort. Take a memo, sweetie. Get over yourself. We're here to create a positive public of you not shamelessly flirt our way into some kind of tryst."

"What? No fringe benefits? I thought that was the point of politics."

"I don't have time for boys."

"Then who is that boy I see you with on feeds from The Sector?"

"Cyber-stalking is not sexy."

"Don't flatter yourself. I needed some supplementary information seeing as you have given me virtually none about who you really are or what you really want. You may dazzle the crowds with your charisma and charm but I think the only reason you are helping me to further your own agenda."

"For the moment our agendas align. Pray it stays that way."

"Ladies and gentlemen, my mysterious date."

"This isn't a date remember?"

"I asked you. You came. There is food and activities. I'd say this qualifies so I'm revising my earlier statement."

"That's entrapment."

"Admit it; you are having a good time. You love soaking up all the attention that contributes to the expansion of your brand and I'm gaining invaluable knowledge on how to fake my way through a social event. It's a win-win."

Dahlia laughs.

"Am I having a good time or just making you believe it?"

"You aren't that good."

She starts to walk past him, "Guess you'll never know."

He ropes her waist with his arm and pulls her toward him. A part of him wants to strangle her but the other finds himself overcome with desire. As their lips touch, there is a spark accompanied by flashes.

blue smoke pulled apart into shapes, three sabers across a glowing orange sphere casting a shadow upon two thrones

They gasp, stepping away from each other. For a moment they stand staring at each other. The feeling was incredible but the images confusing. They return to the reception as if nothing had happened.

Dahlia leaves in the morning with Georgie piloting the royal cruiser.

As they make the jump into hyperspace, she catches a glance of Chandaar behind them and brings a finger to her lips.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Medivh on February 23, 2016, 02:13:51 PM

Chandaar: Republic Capital
Surface: Ambaril

The debate in the senate had been heated. Originally intended to last a day, parties on both sides gave impassioned speeches that ran almost a whole week. For. Against. For. Against. For. Against. Each speech was met with cheers from one side or another

It filled Barrett with contempt. Was this really how democracy worked? Get enough shouting, and the votes go your way? With an Empire, a strong hand made strong decisions. that was the way it should be.

Still, he put on appearances. If there was one thing Dahlia Winton had drilled into his head, it was that appearances were everything. He had played the politics well until now, but she had aided him in endearing himself to the greater public.

Barrett watched from an ante room as the winning votes were cast, preparing to step out to meet with the Emperor.

What he got was a barrage of press. Constant flashing of cameras, and reports of every shape and size trying to shove a camera in a gap between the bodies. Two stormtroopers are preparing to shove the press aside, but Barrett is thinking on his lesson, and holds them back. He offers a smile to the crowd, listening to the shouts of questions.

"Mr. Trevaithan, how do you feel about this vote?"
"Can the Empire truly be trusted?"
"What will this peace look like?"
"Who will be the imperial liaison to the republic?"

He tried controlling the crowd, offering platitudes of peace and prosperity, but questions kept coming, turning more personal.

"What do you think of Chandaar?"
"How do you feel being an imperial AND a republic celebrity?"

"What do you think of Dahlia Winton?"

He paused, listening to the click of cameras, his mind wandering to the date with Dahlia, their kiss. He absently raised a finger to his lips, before catching himself, lowering his hand and smiling at the crowd.

"I can honestly say, she is nothing like what I expected."

TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on September 19, 2016, 01:05:54 PM

Byss: Imperial Capital

Deep within the Citadel, Emperor Schrag wanders the dim corridors.

There is promising news out of every corner of the Holo. The Republic now looks to the Empire to assist in fortifying their borders while casting a negative light on a questionable Corellia. They had fought long and hard to be a part of the Republic yet now the CEC is withholding their resources. It only serves to strengthen their position to a still skeptical public. And while reactions may be mixed to their presence and intentions, Barrett's popularity is undeniable thanks in no small part to Princess Dahlia Winton. The younger generation sees them as part of a united future, one with so many possibilities. Even the highest ranking advisors see advantage in his tact. He has done well to ingratiate himself with their operations and way of life.

Speaker Leeds has been corrupted by dark energy flowing beneath his office, leaving him susceptible to their influence. A solution was offered to combat resistance to the Force User Registration Act and Darth Erinbol dispatched their asset.

Rutherford Gellar and Celeste Masterton are dead. Two of the last three with ties to the past are gone, clearing the way for unfettered access to The New Four. The final subject is the reason for his visit. Schrag maneuvers through restricted areas and stops by a lab where his dutiful minions toil away, pulling strings behind the curtain. Max and Xam are certifiable but their ethically carefree genius continues to make them useful. They were able to render ChemiX's tech, a feat that had won his praise. The investment proved more profitable than anyone had realized.

The long, black workbench is covered in microscopes, vials, and electronic chips and surrounded by monitors containing various algorithms, formulas and extrapolated data. There are two monitors that each have a humanoid face fixed in the left hand corner with vitals streaming below it.

They both look up at the same moment.

"My liege," Max says.

Xam bows, "How may we serve you?"

"An informal progress report, if you will. We rely on your machinations to tip the scales."

They both seem very pleased by the compliment.

"Vex Sienna is firmly under our control and has executed orders flawlessly. Three of The Four are much more accessible than ever before. The forth still has ties and is heavily guarded on Corellia although the loss of his aunt gives us vulnerability. We do not yet have an asset on that front."

"Are those in place currently stable?"

"No long term effects have been studied but Sienna appears to be holding up relatively well given the extreme shifts in personality, motive and actions."

"He remembers nothing?"

"We allowed him to remember Kylie Miranda as a warning but he has no memory of killing the others although he may suspect as much. It should keep him from getting close to anyone else but there is a new development we have our eyes on."

"Such as?"

"A new lady."

"Who?"

"Janessa Kain."

"She is the Republic liaison to the Corporate Sector, with a murderous streak if I remember correctly. Is she a threat?"

"Their positions with respective factions would require some interaction. However, we did an extensive background on her and the results were rather..."

"…colorful."

"Nothing that would be a liability to us with the exception of one connection."

Max taps on a keypad and brings up another face along with photage stills of a landing platform, interior of a bar, outside the Gellar Tower.

"Garron Prescott."

Schrag narrows his eyes – a potential loose end.

"Monitor them and report any anomalies. Sienna may be needed if the situation turns. I am curious about the application. What makes this different and how can you certain we won't lose control?"

They glance at each other with a menacing glee.

"Early versions of the tech were unsuccessful for a variety of reasons."

"Traditional implants placed directly in the brain were highly unstable and carried excessive risk of trauma or death."

"The Price girl proved much more promising given her extensive brainwashing in our chambers. We were going to use her against Sienna in the end but that would have been…."

"..Counterproductive to our current goals."

"This method contains fewer variables?" Schrag asks.

"The nano tech in Gellar's serum allows us to overlay personality imprints of anyone we wish. In Sienna's case, a ruthless killer with a vendetta against the Four families for their treachery against the Empire. The serum allows the upload and imprinting of education and skills that can act in tandem to their own or as a completely separate individual with an entirely different set of ethics and motives."

He glances to the other screen.

"Excellent. And her?"

"Quinn Cavanaugh is our sleeper in the Republic capital we used to carrying out the bombing."

"She will act as the princess' counterpart when she returns in the Fall."

"Miss Cavanaugh has been imprinted with latent advanced combat skills and weapons training which can be accessed through a coding sequence, turning her from clueless model to vicious killer."

"Her dormancy remains due to Barrett's success. If he had failed to convince the Senator's, she would have been activated to sway things in our favor. However, it appears someone else has taken up the mantle of further tarnishing the Jedi's reputation."

Schrag crosses his arms, "Operations outside our scope."

"We are monitoring that as well although the identity of the assailant does match that of a Jedi Master once housed on Chandaar. It could be backlash from their actions against Force Sensitive's."

"Unlikely," he says. "This is too extreme even for them. I need to know more."

"Of course, your Highness."

"What of the wayward Winton?"

"Reports indicate that Dahlia is grieving. Her enforcer in the Sector was eliminated and she is currently on holiday on Hesperidium."

"She should not be left unattended. We do not want these emotions to cloud her judgment."

"How would you like us to proceed?"

"Utilize the asset we have. Agent Swire was sent to keep her on track so I suggest he pay her a visit to ensure her vision aligns with ours. Have his transcripts routed to Chandaar where he will join her at University."

Max grins, "Positive reinforcement."

Emperor Schrag towers over the workbench.

"Only if she is compliant."

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on August 12, 2018, 05:39:42 PM

When I close my eyes

I’m climbing in the dark

Trying not to fall apart

Sometimes I get so high

Falling is the only out I see

And I don't wanna take you down with me

-Illenium

Hyperspace

Dahlia stares out into the swirling blue and white stars as they race toward the Imperial center on Byss. She’s never been but heard loads, mostly from Barrett, about the strangeness of the place. The glow, the dark energies, and so on. Her insistence to meet with the Emperor is marred by the shadows of her own family and only something she truly considered after they had departed. She had been distracted by Quentin Swire's shock at her request and he predictably tried to talk her out of it, to no avail obviously.

She's got other things on her mind.

The Winton’s have ties to Byss. That documentary, Bound by Blood, was fairly compelling if not entirely skewed to make The Four out to be tragic, beautiful, and flawed victims of a vast conspiracy beyond their control. Juicy drama aside, Alexia Winton was made out to be an unstable maniac obsessed with the life Karen Winton had but the truth was their father was behind it all. Most of it anyway. Everyone else was either an accomplice, patsy, or stooge; all of which was clearly expendable. The property on Byss, held in the Winton name, was apparently destroyed by Karen and a replica of Valerie Gellar. Even the knock-off showed up to cause trouble, what a surprise. The details on the matter were hazy and glossed over in the holodoc as part of Karen’s story of rebellion against their father and redemption arc which only ended with her death on Centerpoint.

No one alive knows how it ended.

No one except Dahlia…only because that bitch Adubell showed her.

The photage. Those last fateful moments. Karen Winton, redeemed and rational, was cut down by Melanie Masterton. The last of the information about what she had been doing on Byss and elsewhere in the galaxy blew up on that station. Hell, it may have even died with her adoptive parents. Who knows what they were holding close to the chest from all of them.

Now they are alone and careening toward a crossroads.

Barrett startles her out of her thoughts, “We’re almost there.”

He pulls on the controls as his shuttle exits hyperspace between their third and fourth moon. As they neared Byss, the blueish green haze becomes starker and alluring. She turns, glancing over at his stoic face as he navigates.

“Happy to be home?”

“Not entirely, no.”

It was rough for him on Byss, having a tumble of a time at the Tarkin Academy before being shipped off to Carida. He was all business all the time, conditioned to be a soldier and a ruthless killer. He had the chops and a little something extra – a connection to the Force no one could explain. Not entirely sensitive but enough in tune with it to leverage it to his advance in battle. Combined with his tactical prowess, this made Barrett Trevaithan a formidable adversary and one the Emperor quickly moved on. She’d pressed him on these details some time ago but he was evasive and inarticulate. Oh, those were the days before she taught him how to socialize like a normal humanoid. Popularity, she bemoaned, has its perks. Barrett was a quick study and it made him a far more interesting and even match for her and her cunning ways.

“Don’t be so glum, darling. We don’t have to stay long. Now land us safely while I freshen up.”

He laughs, “This isn’t going to be some kind of media spectacle."

“That’s what you think. Besides, I’m not going to argue with you again on the merits of looking fantastic everywhere.”

He is cleared to land in his secured spot in the Imperial Citadel and touches down lightly. Barrett has a peculiar feeling about all of this. He’d arranged the meeting half-expecting Schrag to turn her down but surprisingly he was up for it. Now he is curious to see how she’ll play it but he knows, deep down, Dahlia is going to get herself in trouble if she’s not careful.

Barrett waits for her by the ramp controls and when she appears, she is stunning beyond words. The deep blue gown tapers into flecks of green that not only amplify her crimson hair and emerald eyes but seem to be a polite nod to their sun.

As if reading him, she smiles deviously.

“Not an accident.”

She takes his arm and they descend to the bay floor below. There are a few rows of trooper standing at attention, befitting his position. There is a glint of light off the black cam-droids hovering above to capture the moment, just as she predicted. Barrett wonders why this would even warrant such coverage but her name means something.

It always has.

Darth Erinbol waits at the end of the receiving line, bowing slightly before raising his head to stare beneath the wide hood.

“Welcome home, Ambassador Trevaithan and welcome, your Highness. It is an honor to have you as our guest.”

Dahlia performs flawlessly, of course.

“The honor is mine, and I am humbled by your gracious hospitality.”

Erinbol motions through the blast doors.

Dahlia nods and follows him.

Barrett watches her walk away slowly, heels echoing on the polished black floor, glancing back and touching her chin to her exposed shoulder with a look he can barely decipher. He has seen her play many roles in many situations. She is more versatile and cleverer than he would have expected for someone who survived such torture. Perhaps it is what made her this way. He cares about her, dare he say loves her, but he doesn’t really know her. Not in the way he should by this point in their relationship. Which version is the true one? They had both grappled with and survived adversity in their youths but he leveraged it to become what he is now. She may have as well but in doing so, did it fractured that persona into a mysterious and surreal chameleon whose true colors will never be known?

She glazes into a blur on the periphery before vanishing around the corner.

Barrett knows that the most terrifying thing may yet be revealed as who Princess Dahlia Winton really is.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on August 15, 2018, 08:22:38 PM

Byss

Surface: Imperial Citadel

Barrett’s quarters are sparsely furnished but befitting his rank. Not exactly the kind of posh setting the princess is used to although she had toned it down a bit for the dorm suite in order to humanize herself in her role as an academic. Darth Erinbol had inquired if she preferred her own quarters but she declined and opted to stay with Barrett, a decision that excited him more than he anticipated.

Dahlia’s always been cagey about affection, despite their growing relationship, which he attributed to her torture at the hands of the Sith. She isn’t a prude, per se, but more measured than most of the girls her age. When they first met, he assumed she had plenty of suitors and while she admitted to some taking an interest, she had been more focused on her studies and the aspects of popularity he is still getting used to. Of course, this nonchalant aversion gives her an enigmatic quality that makes him want her even more.

Currently, she is standing in the bathroom in a towel within perfect view, staring at her own reflection.

“When do we meet with Schrag?”

“Tonight,” Barrett says. “He’s holding a dinner in our honor.”

“How fabulous.”

Her tone is one of casual annoyance which irks him but also brings a smile to his face.

“I do hope you are going to behave.”

“Do you? Or do you hope I rile him up into getting what we came for?”

“A little of both, I guess. The Emperor is a man of principle with little patience for your bourgeois antics.”

She turns from the mirror, “Fancy word for a fancy man.”

“He may have indulged you on Chandaar but he won’t here. You need to be tactful in your approach if you hope to get what you want.”

“I can be tactful when it suits me.”

“I hope it suits you tonight,” Barrett says, propping himself up on the bed. "Otherwise, you may find yourself on the receiving end of his wrath."

“Trust me, it pales in comparison to mine. He doesn’t trust me even though I’ve more than proven my value. The artifact has been seeping dark energy into the Speakers chambers for over a year because of which we have unprecedented influence in the Senate. The Republic has either eradicated or driven away anyone with Force sensitivity. I turned Quinn, one of my only friends in the capital, into a killer you can control. And what do I get in return? A vile babysitter who makes fraternity system look like saints.”

“Come on, don’t you think that’s a little harsh? Quentin’s a friend.”

“Not a very good one,” she mutters.

He shifts his weight on the bed, “You’re a complex character, Dahlia Winton.”

“That depends.”

“On what?”

“If you’re up for the challenge.”

“You’ll find I’m up for a lot of things.”

She slides a hand down the door frame slowly, “I’ll bet.”

“Tease. You really think the Empire has Garron?”

“Yes, and I think we’re being kept in the dark about what’s really going on. My sisters were kept in the dark and look what happened to them.”

Barrett regards her curiously, careful how to broach the subject of her family. Her biological family. She’s ever really only spoken of them in an abstract and detached way which makes sense because she never knew them. Not in the way she did her adoptive parents and siblings. He can’t tell if it’s a sore subject or if that cool exterior is just a mask for that indescribable rage.

“You aren’t your sisters.”

“Clearly,” she quips wryly. “I’m better.”

Her pink com bleeps from the nightstand. He glances over and slides it toward him.

“Speaking of family ties, it’s your brother.”

She groans, moving across the room to retrieve it, “He’s not my brother.”

“Biology doesn’t always make someone family.”

The concept resonates more deeply than she’s willing to admit but she ignores the comment and answers.

“Dane. To what do I owe this massive honor?”

“Shut up, Dahlia. For once.”

“Off on a positive note, I see. Are we in a mood?”

“We’re in trouble and I need your help.”

The blatant nature of the statement jars her into full attention. She straightens up, turning away from Barrett looking her over on the bed, and lowers her tone.

Maybe there is something to that family thing.

“What’s wrong?”

“I have a proposition for you.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on August 20, 2018, 10:06:06 PM

“I'd trade my money
And all of my youth
To settle the score with you.

Bang, bang
Pull the trigger, trigger.
Bang bang.”

-The New Respects

Byss

Surface: Imperial Citadel

Tonight’s the night.

Dahlia emerges wearing a beaded green gown with a plunging neckline and dark shimmering heels. Her eyes are shaded and smoked out, amplifying the emerald color. With lips stained a deep red and hair perfectly tousled and falling down over her shoulders, she is a striking vision of a singular statement: deal with this.

She takes Barrett’s arm as they begin to walk down the corridor to the lifts. He is outfitted in all black, an Imperial suit that seems made to accentuate his muscular features. There is only a low level of dread coursing through him as she has yet to reveal her hand. The conversation with Dane was heard only one-sided and she kept her dialog clipped and formal yet traced with an empathy he had not heard before. She agreed to something but remained evasive afterward.

The great hall has been set for their arrival; a feast with décor tailored specifically to royalty. Barrett is impressed the Emperor made these arrangements. Schrag is not one for sentiment nor does he care much for the material pleasures most rulers surround themselves with. This setup implies motive and he wonders if Dahlia senses the same. The dread begins to creep more prominently within him as he realizes why the meeting was agreed to: The Emperor wants something from her.

Dahlia and Barrett near the table when the door across the room hisses open. Two Imperial Royal Guards enter the room followed by Emperor Schrag then the remaining four guards. It seems excessive, given their compliment, which means more than he doesn't trust her.

The Emperor fears her.

There are the slightest pulls of a smile on Dahlia’s lips as Barrett imagines she arrives at the same conclusion. Aside from her assaulting him with the Force when they first met, he has not seen her display anything remotely alarming or dangerous. Perhaps Schrag knows better.

He nods to Barrett then trains his gaze on Dahlia.

“Princess Winton,” he says with a tone of amusement as if the words feel strange in his mouth. “You’ve called on me and I have answered.”

In truth, she is not the first Princess Winton he’s known. In fact, she is not even the second. Many years ago, he crossed paths with Alexia as an instructor at the Carida Academy. She was vengeful, defiant, and unstable but held a darkness so complete it humbled. She cared not for such titles whereas later, with Karen, those meant everything as she seemed to float across the bridge of the late Emperor Dementat’s command destroyer. Darth Kyja, she was called, but both were fools in their own ways. One sought revenge while the other sought redemption. Now, he stands before the third Winton sister. As vain as Karen and as venomous as Alexia, from what he’s been told. One can never be too careful with such a balance.

She bows regally, “Your Highness, I am honored you accepted.”

“Please, sit.”

They surround an intricately set table and enjoy the wine and an assortment of expertly prepared food. Conversation is light, to start, hovering mainly over sentiments in the Republic. Their borders are secure, fleets reinforced by the might of the Empire. Speaker Leeds keeps vigilant that the Force User Registration Act must be enforced to ensure peace. Chandaar is patrolled by a newly empowered and emboldened RSB, transforming their cosmopolitan democracy into something more militant-minded.

They toast to it but Dahlia holds her glass high.

“I have news that will please you.”

Schrag turns, “You have my undivided attention.”

“My adoptive siblings are still underage, at least for several more months. The issue of their guardianship has recently come up what with the untimely death of our parents.”

Our.

Barrett swallows most of his glass of wine.

If Emperor Schrag is unsettled, he does not show it.

“Your associate, Vex Sienna, has petitioned for their guardianship. As you can imagine, this news has not gone over well. Dane does not like to be controlled and has serious concerns about the Imperial stake in his company.”

“And Gemma?”

“Currently out-out-pocket but not for long. Once Dane was able to reach her with this news he convinced her to return to the Corporate Sector.”

Emperor Schrag allows a small smile, “Where Sienna will undoubtedly be granted his petition?”

“No, I’m afraid not.”

“Dahlia…”

“No?”

It is not a word he is used to hearing and his tone is reflective of that. She lets the pause linger just enough to be excruciating.

“Dane has asked that I assume guardianship of he and Gemma until they are of age. I accepted because although they believe they have wrestled control away from the Empire, they have no idea that they just willingly handed themselves over to us.”

The Emperor is pleased indeed and he calls for more wine to celebrate.

“You impress me, princess. More so than I anticipated. This is a tactical advantage that can further our goals.”

“And what goals are those?”

He takes a careful sip and regards her more seriously like he is debating a course of action. Can a Winton realty be trusted? Only if she plays a central role in certain plans.

“There is a reason we have such a pointed interest in ChemiX and it has everything to do with an enzyme in the Gellar gene that is extremely valuable. One that can bring life where there is none.”

Barrett has only heard this in speculation from the media, that Valerie Gellar’s genetics were somehow used to create the Baron Phage which led to the occupation of Corellia and her eventual murder at his hands. Dahlia has heard it before...from Adubell. It's how she exists in her current form. If Rutherford Gellar or anyone else knew about this, they kept it under wraps and well within the secured confines of the ChemiX labs.

Now things begin to make sense; Vex’s presence in the Corporate Sector, playing on his past proximity to Valerie, to ingratiate himself with the Gellar-Masterton family. Kylie Miranda must have been means to an end – her end, apparently. And both Rutherford and Celeste.

“As of now, Irulan Reeves controls ChemiX. Sienna does not have access and although there was a previous attempt to procure this material, the sample was not viable. We believe it was a decoy and that Rutherford Gellar knew exactly what this gene could do. Your guardianship duties provide you with a rare opportunity. We must acquire this gene with a fresh sample in order for our associates to test it.”

She seizes the opening.

“Of course, I can leverage my presence to acquire the sample but there is the issue of assurance and full transparency.”

The Emperor leans incredulously against the table, “You have stipulations?”

“Three actually,” she says evenly. “First, Quentin Swire reports directly to me. I understand he was sent to keep an ever-watchful eye over my activities but by now you realize I’m quite capable of handling myself. However, he and the nano-controlled assassin Quinn would be useful should any unforeseeable variables arise. I'll need them both at my disposal. After all, we don’t want to compromise Barrett’s position within the Republic government.”

Schrag glances at Barrett then back at her.

“I suppose you are right. Done. The second?”

“What happened to Garron Prescott?”

“Who?”

The flicker of memories from his mind are easy enough to pull. It is an automatic response triggered by the name and she knows exactly how to extract it without him ever realizing it.

“You know who. You relinquished custody of Rutherford Gellar to him after he was apprehended at The Wheel. He accompanied Gemma to Chandaar but never returned to D’ian.”

“And you think we have him?”

“I do.”

The Emperor taps something on the arm of his chair and within moments Darth Erinbol appears through the door. As Erinbol approaches, Schrag leans back.

“I may not share the devotion to their religion but I understand the value of the Sith’s power. There are some things better explained by those with commonalities between them.”

He motions and Erinbol nears.

“Our efforts to purge the Force users from the Republic capital has not gone unaided. There needed to be a guiding force, something that could grow with the whispers and drive away those it could not catch with fear. Before leaving Chandaar, Gemma Masterton faced Inquisitor Involis. It is Involis that has hunted the Jedi around Chandaar and throughout the galaxy. Involis sought to end Masterton but failed and captured Garron Prescott instead.”

“Failed? You’re telling me Gemma got the jump on an Inquisitor?”

Barrett stifles a laugh and clears his throat. Erinbol continues.

“A slight of hand cost him this victory but removed the last protections from Masterton and Gellar.”

Dahlia glares at him, “How fortuitous. Is he alive?”

“This I cannot confirm, only that he was taken and can be…useful.”

“Now you know,” Schrag interjects sharply, causing Erinbol to draw back. “What is your third stipulation?”

Dahlia sets her glass down and never misses a beat.

“Did you have anything to do with the death of my parents?”

Both Erinbol and Barrett are stunned.

It is issued almost like a challenge but Emperor Schrag does not break her gaze.

She wanted this; a showdown.

“If by your parents you mean Rutherford Gellar and Celeste Masterton then yes, I did. It may not have been by my hand but it was on my orders. They posed certain risks we could simply no longer afford. Not with the truce and certainly not with Gemma Masterton and Riley Patten running around drumming up sympathy for unworthy causes.”

“And just who, pre-tell, had the honors of carrying out such an order?”

“Why the very one you’ve snatched the guardianship out from under. He, like your model friend, can be controlled. Strange how cyclical life is sometimes.”

She smiles but really, she’s internally screaming.

“It is, isn’t it? I appreciate the trust you've shown me.”

“So, you will both do as I command. Barrett will continue pushing our agenda on Chandaar and you will bring me the Gellar sample when you return to D’ian.”

It is not a question.

He knows it.

They know it.

Emperor Schrag stands, nodding to each of them before turning and moving away. Erinbol’s glance lingers but he, too, follows. The Imperial Royal Guards file out behind them, leaving an emotionally conflicted Barrett staring at Dahlia and Dahlia staring at the door as it hisses closed.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on August 26, 2018, 06:14:34 PM

"Today
I've decided to hardly exist,
Decided to just not resist
I'm just gonna let go of this."

-Wild Moccasins

Byss

Surface: Imperial Citadel

They walk back to the stateroom in silence.

Barrett trails Dahlia slightly, hesitant to comment on what just happened. She may have wanted the truth, carefully laying traps within the conversation, but the reality of it all could not have been easy to hear. Emperor Schrag is no fool and he took her bait to see just how far she was really willing to go. All the way, apparently. Now she knows. The people who raised her were killed on his orders and despite that very cool exterior it has to sting. He can feel the waves of anger and grief pouring off her and, for the first time in their relationship, is afraid of what that may mean.

Once they are safely ensconced within the stateroom she turns to him.

“Did you know?”

Barrett knew the question was coming, swallows hard, and does not break eye contact.

“Yes.”

Dahlia’s hands fly up as she storms by him.

“Of course you did. I should have guessed.”

“Not the details but I knew they were loose ends and action would be taken. When I heard, I figured that was part of the plan.”

“And you didn’t think to tell me?”

“You seemed like you didn’t care.”

“I seem like a lot of things,” she hisses. “Read the room, B.”

“We don’t exactly tell each other everything, you know. You are full of secrets.”

“Yeah, well, you are full of shit! This isn’t some political detail from your meetings with the Senators you think would bore me. This is about my life. Schrag had them murdered by someone who had been sniffing around my family for far too long. Sienna has some nerve petitioning for the guardianship. That prick is in for a rude awakening when I get back to D’ian.”

It is then he realizes she is holding a bottle of wine from dinner. She must have grabbed it on the way out.

Smooth.

And absolutely necessary in this exact moment.

Dahlia pours and absently hands him a glass before pouring her own.

“I hope you aren’t planning on making a scene. Your mission is clear and covert.”

“Not the point!” she screams.

“What do you want me to say, Dahlia? That I’m sorry? I am, that it hurt you but you make it seem like we are obligated to run every piece of intel or proposed action by you when that is just not how this works. These are sanctioned Imperial operations, some of which are beyond my level of clearance. You don’t have to like every move we make but we’re looking at a picture bigger than just the two of us.”

Goddamn right they are.

There was another bombshell in Emperor Schrag’s cavalcade of information – he’s after the Gellar enzyme. She’s heard this shit before, from Adubell’s twisted mouth. Aptly titled The Legacy Gene, her biological father, Alexander Winton, had also sought the enzyme in order to escape death. It was his ultimate plan all along while, at the same time, manipulating his wife, children, and friends into a conspiracy far larger than anyone could ever fathom.

Alexander may have lived longer than he should have but he wasn’t able to cheat death entirely. He was finally stopped by Dementat aboard the Centerpoint Station; vengeance exacted for losing his lover Karen to Melanie’s warped machinations. Machinations and misinformation fed exclusively by Alexander through the Jedi. He was a craftsman of the highest caliber, Adubell told her, using an ancient prophecy as a platform to build the narrative necessary to keep the players moving forward across the galactic board. Everything tied back to him – all that blood on his hands. Adubell wanted Dahlia to hate Rutherford and Celeste for keeping the truth from her but she cannot bring herself to despise them entirely. Why wouldn’t they withhold that information? It’s terrible and serves no real purpose other than to destroy any images she has of her real family.

As inwardly devastated as she is, Dahlia understands Schrag’s position. They were loose ends, both formidable in their own ways, and served to keep the Empire and everyone else away from their children. How easily they slipped into their roles once left to their own devices – Dahlia’s social scheming, Dane’s need for control, Gemma’s self-righteous hope, and Riley’s plucky optimism. They really are The Four.

Tactically, Rutherford and Celeste needed to go just as Garron needed to be removed from the equation. Poor bastard. She wonders if he’s somewhere nearby being tortured out of his mind. She shutters, recalling her own torture at Adubell’s hands. It made her stronger but built walls around her ability to really trust anyone. Hence, her current sticky situation with Barrett and Quentin.

However, her grasp on the situation does not mean there won’t be consequences.

Sienna will suffer and so will Schrag.

The best part is that Barrett doesn’t even know what this means for him as someone being groomed as Schrag’s heir apparent. If the Emperor leverages the legacy gene for its true purpose, why would he need a successor? She bets her boyfriend isn’t going to be thrilled but that’s news for another time.

“You’re right. Big picture. Got it.”

He shakes his head, “Don’t do that, don’t glaze over this like you do when you’re done talking about something superficial. You’re upset, I get that. Now talk to me about it before you do something crazy.”

“Crazy? Oh, darling. You don’t know crazy.”

“Show me. I want to see you. All of you."

“I'm not sure you can hang.”

He moves closer to her.

“Try me.”

She squares her shoulders, glaring.

“Why do you even care, Barrett? I mean, really?”

“Because I’m fucking in love with you! You frustrate the shit out of me sometimes, I don’t get half the pop culture references you make, and I know I haven’t even begun to scratch your surface but there it is.”

She kisses him, quickly snatching his face in her hands and bringing their mouths together. She can’t help herself. All those hang-up’s melt away as they grope and claw at each other, glasses falling out of their hands to shatter on the floor. They stagger across the room until she falls on top of him. She has no idea what she’s doing, running purely on instinct and desire. The lights in the room dim slowly then flicker. Barrett grips the back of her neck with one hand, the other finding it’s way to the small of her back. She grinds into him, breasts swelling out of that plunging neckline, as she devours his mouth. His fingers slide up over the zipper of her dress, tugging it down. They swap places, allowing Barrett to peel Dahlia out of that dress. Her hand is on his belt as he strips out of his shirt. He pulls off his boots and socks and slides out of his pants. She is propped up on her elbows, wearing nothing but the tiniest pair of thin, black panties. As he crawls onto the bed, she tugs off his boxers as he slips a hand beneath her and pulls those panties up and off in one fluid motion. Those smooth legs, now relaxed, spread before him. A gentleman knows the lady is always served first and so he angles down, cheek nestled at the crook of her thigh, and-

[scene blurs with a moan before cutting away into darkness]

Distraught but purposeful, Dahlia and Barrett make love. Their combined dark energy, amplified by the planet, first pulse like a deep bass then surge outward in sonic waves. Byss becomes a conduit for their union, one that has been foretold and can be felt by all who are attuned.

*

Darth Erinbol falls to his knees, humbled but empowered. A smile comes to his face. It has come to pass.

*

On Dathomir, the Voss-Ra throw their heads back, a deep guttural chant escaping their mutilated mouths, as the fires before them burn tall with bright crimson laced with black flame.

*

The area formally known as Coruscant.

Masses of rock cease spinning. The ions storms quiet their endless raging. There is a gravitational pull toward what was once the remnants of a space station; Karen Winton’s first step toward vindication, Alexia Winton’s final resting place, and the site of a Sith artifact that was activated by Dahlia Winton’s surge of power on Hesperidium. It laid the foundation, slowly pulling together the bits and pieces of a planet destroyed by the Hapan Dark Queen so many years ago.

Their union binds it all, pulling the last of the ruins together and fusing them into something new.

The sphere takes its shape, finding an axis, and starts to spin.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on September 09, 2018, 10:57:20 PM

“I’m not who you think I am
Got closets full of bones
Not for show and tell
But just for show.”

-Jonathon Jircitano

Byss: Imperial Capital

The afterglow is hazy.

It was incredible. More incredible than either of them thought possible. Dahlia is sleeping, sheets twisted and snaked around her nude form. She is perfect, Barrett thinks, staring down at her. But there are parts of herself that she hides. He may not be as clever as she but he knows enough to know that. She came here to take on the Emperor and did not disappoint. However, that fabulous force was blunted by information he was privy to.

Does she hate him?

Hard to tell. The passion they shared could have straddled that line. He could have missed something, a cue of some kind, that indicates what really goes on inside that beautiful head. Barrett eases himself back down to the pillow, a smile tugging at him, drifting back to sleep. She's worth the wait.

The next morning, it’s all business. The business of getting the hell out of there.

He doesn’t blame her for that and gets it together quickly. The Emperor would not want them to meander now that they both have directives. She is sweet on the trip back to Chandaar, more affectionate than usual but quieter. He doesn’t press but she tells him anyway.

“I’ll get over it.”

*

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Dahlia kisses Barrett longingly before sending him off to work and heading back to campus to pack. He's hot stuff and she's spun, much to her surprise. There is a lot on her mind. Obviously. And she’ll be damned if she’s returning home without a little fashion and fanfare. She needs to take her own cruiser, a small comfort for the journey. Besides, it is stocked with a vintage wardrobe that simply cannot be left behind. The Holo is on in the background of the dorm suite, projecting a recap of all the things she missed. She’s nearly finished, tossing her bags on the sofa when her door chimes chirp.

Inevitable misogynistic tantrum in 3-2-1…

Quentin leans his head against the frame, “Welcome back, have fun?”

“You know I did.”

“I’m glad to hear it,” he says, moving inside and tapping the door closed behind him. “So. Glad.”

“No, you’re not.”

“No, I’m not. I’m furious. Yes, furious would be the word I would use to describe this feeling. You really know how to screw up a guy’s life, don’t you?”

“Oh, it’s not so bad,” Dahlia replies, tossing her hair casually over her shoulder. The outrage flooding through him is completely intoxicating. His eyes flash wide but he keeps his tone near a shrill, hostile whisper.

“Not so bad? Me, an actual certified Imperial agent, has been reassigned to some stuck up, spoiled little bitch with a goddess complex? I don’t think so. You aren’t even remotely qualified to call my shots.”

She smirks, “Mad I’m the boss of you? How original. Funny how you weren’t the least bit shy about putting me in my place when the roles were reversed and you were sent to my school on my planet as a poser spy and a shitty one at that. You aren’t the only one who can influence a situation in their favor.”

“This isn’t a game, Dahlia. This is my fucking life.”

“I know this may be difficult to understand for someone who virtually assaulted me the last time we saw each other but not everything is about you.”

“Oh no,” he seethes, shaking his head. “There were two people in that kiss. Only one of us is willing to admit it meant something.”

“Fuck you, Q.”

“I’m right here, let’s go.”

She exhales sharply, “I don’t have time to get into this with you-“

“Did you get into it with Barrett on Byss? Tell him you killed Muriel and lost your Sith shit all over your pad on Hesperidium? Did you show him all that darkness you were so willing to show me?”

“Cheap shot and you are just lashing out.”

Quentin’s face is a hideous mask of disgust.

“Didn’t think so. What exactly did you say to the Emperor in order to get your claws in me?”

“I didn’t have to say anything,” Dahlia fires back. “He knows all about your failures in keeping me contained so he handed you over. Just like that.”

“You’re so full of it.”

They both laugh when an image of Janessa Kain catches their attention. The report is cursory, adding that there is no trace of her and that the RSB have doubled their efforts. Dahlia’s mouth falls open, turning back to Quentin.

“Janessa is missing?”

“I guess,” Quentin says. “Apparently she didn’t show up for a dinner with that lawyer.”

“You guess? She was looking into Garron’s disappearance and let’s not forget this isn’t the first time there’s been an attempt.”

“The Empire didn’t take her out if that’s what you’re not-so-subtly implying.”

Dahlia grabs her bags and pauses by the door.

“Then that’s your first assignment. Figure it out before I get back. Toodles, bitch."

“What? Dahlia!”

She doesn’t break stride as she heads down the corridor and never looks back.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on May 03, 2019, 10:44:01 PM

Byss: Imperial Capital

Barrett does not go to Chandaar and instead diverts to the Imperial capital in Dahlia’s royal cruiser. He knows she is far too self-involved to check his meeting schedule. There is a pang of guilt over lying to her although, given the circumstances, it almost seems fitting.

The Emperor’s Citadel never fails to inspire – respect and fear. The gothic architecture detailed with dangerous peaks is an appropriate symbol. He lands the cruiser and walks the corridors to ponder the present events. Barrett’s read all the bio’s, knows all the major players. The Empire made sure of it. They would never let him go in blind. It was no accident that Barrett and Dahlia crossed paths. He could barely stand her at first but he’s let himself get to a place he was warned against, a place that many others have found themselves in when it comes to The Four. Seasoned agents, political figures, hardened criminals all put aside principle and practice to aide them. Call it a spell or simply a clever form of manipulation they have something, a power that cannot be denied. It is more than the Force abilities two of them possess. More than the secrets their genetic material may hold. More than the seductive nature of their plight as they clash headlong into galactic events once again. There is magnetism, an incredible pull, toward their inevitable black hole.

He loves Dahlia, hates Quentin, fears Quinn and now must do something to prove to himself he’s still loyal. That the Empire comes first. Quentin was briefed on the powers of the Winton sisters and warned against their charms when he was sent into D’ian. Dahlia was just as likely to possess the raw potential as both Alexia and Karen and they were right. Her spike in the Force and complete loss of control should have been reported…on more than one front.

He slows at the junction to the Emperor’s throne room.

Through his petty outrage, he knows The Four had been manipulated by the Empire in the past. He wouldn’t go so far as to say that isn’t in play here. Barrett is no fool and Dahlia’s words reflect what he has begun to feel himself: the Emperor fears her. Schrag has tolerated her frivolity more than he anticipated but he always believed it was because she had yet to become a risk. She, like almost everything else, holds a tactical advantage if leveraged wisely. She could be useful if she can be controlled. He also knows that constraints and subterfuge from multiple factions led to carnage and destruction. That's not what he wants to do yet Dahlia has moved from adversarial annoyance to full-blown threat, especially if that loss of control had anything to do with the reformation of Coruscant. He doesn’t want to believe that but there is much about their story that defies belief.

Quentin may have discovered her true powers but there is someone who surely knew long before that. Someone he is not is entirely convinced has their bests interests in mind. The slippery Sith seer that somehow remains close enough to advise the Emperor. If Darth Erinbol really means to protect Schrag’s claim, he would already be aware of this development. He and Quentin more than likely would have received orders…unless Erinbol wants this. He knows how close her sister had been to the throne and with the right direction Dahlia could bring everything Schrag built to the ground.

The choice confronts him coldly; give Dahlia up to Emperor Schrag or silence Darth Erinbol for keeping the secret and holding this leverage over all of them.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on June 05, 2019, 03:19:20 PM

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Emperor’s Citadel

Barrett strides boldly into the Sith sanctum.

Through the darkness, interspersed with torchlight, he can see a figure knelt before what looks like an altar. The figure rises and turns around as if expecting him. Darth Erinbol’s gray skin is thrown into an array of shadows.

“Ambassador Trevaithan, to what do I owe the pleasure?”

His blaster is out and trained on him before he finishes the sentence.

“Drop the act, Erinbol. You are a traitor to the Empire who has conspired against Emperor Schrag.”

“As usual, dear boy. You do not know the whole story. Not because you cannot see it but because you do not wish to.”

“What are you talking about?”

His thoughts are easy enough to read.

"Dahlia has always been dangerous, Barrett. You understood that going in but now you know things about her. Things she has done. And you interpret that as a betrayal because it may pose a threat to Schrag’s rule. You think she’ll move to strike if she’s not contained. What you fail to realize, however, is that there is no containing her. There never was.”

Barrett searches his sunken features for traces of something that would reveal a motive, something clear cut and damning. Instead, he finds a neutral mask of certainty. A smile tugs at the corner of Erinbol’s thin mouth.

“You came here to sell her out, offer a symbol of your loyalty, but you cannot do it, can you? You are filled more with curiosity than conviction which means you may be starting to ask the right questions. Finally.”

“What do you know about her? About Dahlia?”

“She is a Winton,” Erinbol says evenly. “And a Winton is the crimson tip to the Masterton’s blue flame.”

“What about the others?”

“Patten is the spark and Gellar the accelerant. It has always been so.”

“The Four.”

“Yes, the Four. The stories you’ve heard are almost all true, unbelievable as they may seem. Even though it was not so long ago, the worlds have found a way to revise the fact that they were on the precipice of destruction. No one wants to admit how close it really was and, if it had not been for the Battle of Centerpoint, it wouldn’t have mattered. Now, it can go either way.”

Barrett inhales, keeping the blaster aimed squarely at the center of his forehead.

“If you knew how dangerous she was, why didn’t you warn the Emperor?”

“Why haven’t you? Why are you standing here and not before the throne?”

“I didn’t know until-“

“You only received confirmation of something you already suspected. You know something isn’t right here, things that are happening beneath the surface while you are safely distracted on Chandaar with the Republic. Schrag hasn’t told you everything but that is only because he knows both you and Agent Swire have been compromised.”

“I am not compromised.”

“Agents with far more experience and tenure have made the same claim and gone on to lay down their loyalty and lives for them. Although your meeting with Princess Winton was arranged, you have always been drawn to her.”

He thinks back to when he first saw her. It was on the Holo when he was at the Tarkin Academy. There was a feeling of both longing and connection within him, something he could not identify then let alone articulate it. He thought she was spoiled but strong, having survived a kidnapping and torture. She was someone beautiful but alone and that struck something in him.

“I was.”

“There is a reason for that as well.”

“And I suppose you are going to enlighten me on that too? You are crafty, Darth Erinbol, I’ll give you that but I will not fall for your mind tricks.”

“What motive do I have to deceive you? I’d be dead either way. Dahlia plays just as large a role as you do, only neither of you understand that yet. The Four has always posed something of a paradox, presented as the saviors or doom of our worlds depending on who you ask. The dreaded prophecy that drove their predecessors’ actions was leveraged callously but wisely by Dahlia’s biological father. He sought the same thing Schrag does, the very thing Dahlia herself delivered to him in exchange for exacting revenge on Vex Sienna.”

“Gellar’s sample.”

Erinbol nods, “Alexander Winton’s lust for immortality cost countless lives, including that of Emperor Dementat. Handled improperly, it will take Schrag as well. It takes all who seek it in the end. Remember, it killed Karen too. Do you want the same for Dahlia?”

Barrett’s grip on the blaster falters, lowering the weapon slowly.

“No.”

“Good,” Erinbol says. “As Dementat was for Karen, the only one who can temper Dahlia’s power is you.”

“I don’t have that kind of power.”

“But you do. Not light, not dark, but your connection to the Force is strong. It has been since you were a child. Think back and you will know this to be true.”

Barrett’s arm falls to his side, remembering his first fight at the Academy. All those skirmishes on Carida. His instincts were driven by something else, something beyond him. His prowess in the field and cunning in the Republic have always been fueled by something deeper. He’s tried to deny it and others have spun his gifts in combat and strategy on a tactical mind shaped by the finest Imperial education. The torches flicker then pulse brightly as if filled with new life.

“There. Do you see? There is a power in you too, greater than what you’ve been led to believe.”

He meets the Sith’s gaze, “Does the Emperor know?”

“Of course, he does. He’s always known. Why do you think you were hand-selected from the pack, chosen to be his right-hand?”

“Wouldn’t that…make me a threat?”

“Threats can be leveraged, as you well know. Risks are assumed if the reward is deemed worthy and having both you and Dahlia up his sleeve fall well within the acceptable range. Schrag has an out, a fail-safe should the tides turn.”

Barrett knows his words border on treason but they cannot be contained.

“I can understand that when it comes to me. Schrag knows where my loyalties lie. But Dahlia? Not so much. She is motivated more by self-interest than fealty to any faction. Then there is the question of the others. Gemma Masterton may be exiled from the Republic but that doesn’t make her any less of a threat. They all are in their own ways. Riley with the Corellian sympathies, Dane with whatever genetic magic that pulses through his veins. If the Emperor knows all this, why hasn’t he moved against them?”

Darth Erinbol places his hands together and moves back toward the altar and Barrett follows.

“That is an interesting question but one I think you already know the answer to. Imagine it. The Four of them together, sprawled out on the beach, makes for an easy target. Problem solved. Except, it’s not. Not with the truce with the Republic still tenuous and fresh. Killing the Four would jeopardize that truce and bring other factions into play. Factions we rely on for weapons, technology, and intelligence. From a strategic perspective, it would be unwise, especially if there are already others who have been vilified in their place.”

Barrett’s mind is spinning, snapping the pieces together as he would lay out a plan of battle. Keep up appearances, massage the misdirect, and give them another enemy to hate and fear.

“The Jedi are scapegoats.”

“Aren’t they always?” Erinbol says coldly. “Too passive to be proactive in their own downfall. It has happened before as it surely will again. Gemma, much like her sister, is the enemy with the face of an angel. She represents a power they do not understand and that which they do not understand is feared. Those on Chandaar point and blame each other, exposing and incarcerating anyone suspected of Force ability. Fear begets violence. The Jedi chase their tails while the real threat lies in wait right beneath their noses.”

“Dahlia.”

“The Princess has managed to make herself a hero of the people. Vapid as she may be, Dahlia is no fool. She was given something their predecessors were not – context. There is still much she doesn’t know but she at least has a better perspective from which to operate. That makes her as dangerous as it does valuable. In truth, Ambassador Trevaithan, it is why she is still alive.”

“What about Quentin? He knew the power she possessed and concealed it.”

“Ah, Agent Swire. He is an Unconventional Champion, wouldn’t you agree?”

He stirs at the phrase, something he has heard before. It was referenced in the Holo-doc about them, tied to a prophecy that engulfed the galaxy in turmoil. It was also designated on the file of Imperial Agent Scott St. Claire. He, too, was loyal but found himself protecting the Winton he was assigned to manipulate and control.

“The Empire knew he would fall for her.”

“Not entirely,” Erinbol says. “At least, not in a romantic way. It was presumed he would come to care for her, providing a shield for some of her worst impulses. Swire’s swarthy reputation on Carida made him the ideal candidate and his connection with you would all but assure your initial trust in the strategy. Schrag needs the focus to remain on the Jedi until we are fully ingratiated with the Republic.”

“Fewer and fewer Senators oppose the truce but there is enough resistance to undo what’s been done given the wrong move on our part.”

“The narrative against the resistance is nationalistic in nature, painting those who oppose the truce as against the galactic peace it brings. Even at the cost of their personal liberties, the public would rather have order over war. The Jedi became domestic terrorists many suspected they were. We brought the Republic the security they demanded and, with enough support, would willingly submit to leadership that can protect them from the Force-user-next-door.”

“A new Empire,” Barrett breathes.

It’s not like he hasn’t considered it seriously before. He even dreamt of a galaxy ruled by the Empire once more. Now, framed in such a way, he realizes he’s been part of that plan all along. Brash but practical, he humanized the Empire. Dahlia made him likable, just as the Emperor commanded and together, they changed the way the public saw the Empire – as one of them. Still, there is so much that was left to chance, so much that could have gone wrong, could still go wrong, that Barrett shutters at the possibilities.

“There is one complication.”

He snaps back into the conversation, “Which is?”

“The hunter.”

“I thought the Inquisitor was only after Gemma and the Jedi?”

“That is what you were told. Inquisitor Involis serves as…insurance. If given the opportunity, it would kill every single one of them. I’m surprised the Inquisitor hasn’t found them already given their recent media exposure on Hesperidium.”

He raises the blaster again, “You would send that monster after them? After Dahlia?”

“It wasn’t me who gave the order. Emperor Schrag did.”

“I thought you said-“

“I said he couldn’t move against them, not that they couldn’t be eliminated through other means by other, more familiar culprits. The Jedi would be stung by their expulsion with Gemma Masterton as the poster girl for their duplicity. Everyone else would be considered collateral damage.”

This was a revelation Barrett perpetrated. He released the photage that got her exiled.

“That cannot happen.”

“Then I suggest you get back there and break up the party.”

Barrett hesitates, lowering the weapon once more. Erinbol can feel the confliction in him, the doubt and anger growing. There is a question he cannot ask and the Sith does not make him.

“You want to know more about your power, your connection to the Force. And you will. I will show you. I can make you powerful too.”

“I came here to kill you.”

“I know.”

Barrett nods, turning to leave the chamber with Erinbol turning back to the flames.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on November 27, 2019, 10:07:00 PM

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

The teal sky is tinged with dark, jagged clouds as Bashqek slips below the horizon. Dusk in the Deep Core is nothing short of mystical. Barrett Trevaithan watches Agent Gris meet a contingent of Imperial guards and medical droids at the shuttle ramp who then whisk an unconscious Dahlia into the Citadel. As she floats by on an enclosed hover-gurney, his slumbering princess beneath transparasteel, he remembers the afterglow of when they were last here together. The first time they made love.

He sighs, never feeling quite like himself on Byss. There is something deeper buried within him.

Darth Erinbol had taught him to suppress his Force signature to evade detection in the Republic but he now knows that’s not where the connection ends. His abilities in the field, an inescapable pull toward Dahlia, are part of the twisted workings of the Force. It is a connection he mistrusts but one he cannot deny. From what he understands, every living thing is connected to the Force but only those with special attunement can influence it. Some bend it to their will while others gain a deeper understanding and purpose. The Force isn’t exclusively tied to the Jedi or Sith, despite the publicity and legend. There are sensitive species and even outrageous rumors of a sentient droid with abilities.

So, where does he fit into all this?

He believed those with exceptional potential were trained from a young age. Schrag took notice of him in the Academy but Erinbol didn’t show up until he was a teenager. He thought this was because he didn’t have…whatever it was. The Sith confirmed otherwise on his last trip.

Agent Gris approaches him in the corridor, “The Emperor demands an audience.”

“I know my way,” he says, leaving the agent behind.

The path is winding and devoid of any disruptions but he soon finds himself before the throne room doors. He should have had this conversation the last time he came. Barrett was planning on selling Dahlia and Quentin out as a display of his loyalty to the mentor that took him under his wing. Schrag had been like a father but all fathers are inevitably fallible. Barrett is angry and confused but he could not disrespect him. Taking a breath, he strides into the throne room where Schrag is waiting.

He kneels before him, “My lord.”

“Your behavior concerns me, Ambassador. Was I in any way unclear in my directive to continue pushing our agenda on Chandaar?”

Barrett rises, “No.”

“Then you can imagine my surprise when I heard about your little detour from the Holo. Dahlia had her orders and you had yours. There was no overlap. Your disappearance prior to the incident and reappearance afterward on Hesperidium reflect a suspicion we just as soon avoid at this critical juncture of the truce. If you recall your tactful negotiations involved systems not aligned with either faction being allowed a choice. More and more systems have reached out to join the Empire. You framed the deal around lasting peace but the Republic has taken it too far. Their version of peace borders on tyranny which was by design. It is only a matter of time before the collection of systems demands a solution, one we can readily provide. I cannot have your exploits jeopardize this.”

He treads carefully, “You sound as though I’ve been compromised.”

“Interesting choice of words,” the Emperor says. “One that belies your feelings more than mine. I believe you have allowed certain variables to influence your judgment. Would you disagree with that statement?”

“Not at all. It is within the scope of my duties to amend behavior based on new information.”

“And what new information have you received?”

“According to Agent Swire, someone attacked the Bolerathon Tower. The description matches that of Inquisitor Involis.”

“The Inquisitor is hunting the Jedi and Gemma Masterton is a known associate. Her presence was covered extensively by the entertainment channels but was picked up by some of the larger and more politically motivated streams. You can imagine what kind of position having a Jedi in our backyard puts us in, Barrett. Even under the guise of a familial holiday.”

“Masterton owns the building.”

“Politically, that doesn’t matter. Tolerance of her presence gives the appearance of taking a side, one the Republic does not share.”

“If we want the Empire to be viewed as more sympathetic, that would be in our best interests. Systems that had been oppressed and seen their planets stripped of resources by previous regimes need to believe we only want the peace the truce stipulates. Killing her makes us no different than what the Republic has become."

“She put out a call-to-arms of resistance against us and the truce. House Masterton is ruled by their ideals, foolish as they may be.”

“You ordered the strike."

Emperor Schrag’s jaw hardens, “I did and, tactically, you know why."

He does know. Dahlia leveraged her assistance in procuring the sample of Dane’s genetic material to personally eliminate Vex Sienna and seize control of the Gellar-Masterton guardianship. It was supposed to be for their benefit but she had expressed no plans to exploit it for Imperial gain outside the sample. As Summer gave way to Fall, they had run out of the little time she bought them. Once Dane and Gemma turn eighteen, they no longer have any direct control over either of them. Either Dahlia played it pretty close to the designer vest or she was running out the clock. It wouldn’t be beneath her to want to see what havoc they may cause for Schrag. After all, she’s not his biggest fan after he ordered the murder of her adopted parents.

“Gemma was the target but anyone slain could be blamed on the Jedi, further fueling the Republic’s prejudice without implicating us.”

“Exactly and now that Masterton is out of the way we can proceed as planned.”

“Yes,” he says, opting not to dispute him. “But consider the risks. Ples Aguilar and Trichelle Corinthos were prominent figures as their families hold controlling positions on the Corporate Sector Direx Board. Their deaths on our soil strain lucrative business relationships.”

“You know as well as I do the Corporate Sector would never put their children before profits. Unless, of course, our reputation was cast in doubt by an outside influence.”

“I instructed Dane to hold until we spoke.”

“It seems that he did not.”

Barrett tenses, “I was not aware he made a formal statement.”

“The Direx Board did not give him a choice. They are just as concerned with how this reflects on them but it seems Gellar and Dawning performed admirably. Ambassador Pallus was impressed.”

“They went with the power-cell failure?”

“Better,” Schrag says through a gruff laugh. “The Chiss with backstory built into their own infighting. I’ll send you the file which you will then use to legitimize the narrative as part of official record. Our business relationship will not suffer and gives us ample space to further explore opportunities with ChemiX.”

“Understood. What about Princess Dahlia?”

The Emperor’s thin smile is not reassuring, “The galaxy believes her dead yet she lies unconscious but comfortable and secure within the Citadel on a heavily fortified world few would dare visit."

“Dahlia completed her mission and delivered Gellar’s sample to you but I do not understand the expected outcome."

“That is not your concern. Your focus is on Chandaar and the Republic at large. This veiled hostility isn’t getting at the real question here and it is testing my patience.”

“The real question?”

“How did Dahlia end up on Coruscant? I can understand why you wouldn’t want to share this with the ISB but it is only us now. Tell me. I’m more than a little curious as to how she pulled it off.”

“I don’t know,” Barrett says.

Schrag contemplates this but goes in another direction, “You are familiar with Alexia Winton?”

“I’ve read the file.”

“Karen’s as well?”

He nods.

“Then you know they were both tested – in their own ways. The whole reason the Empire summoned the family to the Core was due to their potential. Two girls with midi-chlorian counts that high could never be left to chance. Alexia’s test came at North Coruscant High; Karen’s on her first diploserv assignment to Contruum. It was believed that introducing them to traumatic stimuli would reveal the truest manifestation of their powers in ways that would allow the Empire to assess the threat. As history reflects, you can never be too careful with a Winton.”

And there it is.

“This was Dahlia’s test.”

“The Inquisitor’s secondary protocol has always been to ascertain this truth. A truth that has been confirmed in more ways than one. She is powerful, yes. She destroyed a tower and ended the lives of several thousand. Her unexplained appearance on Coruscant, however, raises some very serious concerns.”

Barrett knows where he is going with this.

“With a midi-chlorian count higher than both sisters combined, you can see the problem. We don’t know the extent of her power and a threat that cannot be quantified must be eliminated.”

Emperor Schrag calmly taps open a compartment attached to the throne and withdraws a small blaster. He descends the jagged black steps and, upon reaching Barrett, presses the weapon into his hands. The young Ambassador raises his eyes to meet the Emperors.

“Either you kill her,” he says. “Or I will.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on March 13, 2020, 11:23:48 PM

“Isn’t it exciting? (what am I gonna do?)
Feels oh so inviting (just what you wanted to)
Is this what you wanted? (Mister Impossible)
No time for deciding (Mister Impossible)”
-Phantogram

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

Barrett Trevaithan is faced with a terrible choice.

The Empire or the Princess? The Inquisitor’s attack on the Bolerathon Tower turned out to be Dahlia’s test, one that proved she is too dangerous to live, at least according to the Emperor. The unbridled darkness and power of the Winton bloodline make Dahlia a threat to everything they have built. Now, he has been tasked with ending her life. This is his test. She failed hers but will he fail his? Duty propels him forward, drifting through the winding, tenebrous corridors of the Citadel. The blaster feels heavy in his hand yet he clutches it tightly and marches on. Only he does not go to the chamber where the Empire is holding Dahlia and instead finds himself before the doors of the Sith sanctum once again. He is drawn here. The snap and hum beneath his surface, just out of reach, give him reason enough to want to know more.

Darth Erinbol is standing over a small, circular pit while flames crackle and lick at his thin, gray fingers. The flickering reveals traces of a thin smile.

“I felt you return.”

He is not in the mood for Sith mind games. Barrett must find something to ground him in a life that has suddenly spiraled so far out of his control.

“You taught me before. Teach me now.”

“Change of heart?”

“Circumstance.”

He lifts dark eyes to meet Barrett, "I am listening.”

“I need to know how I am connected to the Force. It is not like others.”

“No,” Erinbol says, appraising him carefully. “It is not but knowledge of your own connection is not the only reason you are here. I trust it is not to kill me this time."

As much as he does not want to admit it, the words tumble out.

“I seek your counsel. The Emperor wants Dahlia dead. You were right, he sent the Inquisitor after them.”

“You already knew that. I just gave a voice to your thoughts. You were young and spiteful when we first met. Emperor Schrag molded that spite into tact but it has always been the foundation upon which you operate, Barrett. You would not have come before me then nor would you be standing before me now. There is something you have always feared and your feelings for Dahlia only amplified that fear.”

“You told me she was my destiny.”

It is time for him to know.

“Destiny framed around a prophecy that has been in play for far longer than anyone may realize. The original Four revealed its existence to the public because of who they were. They made for compelling Holo which, like any message, is filtered through its respective source. This is the reason why the new Four have been met with skepticism and doubt. Such is the nature of prophecies. They are often unspecific and easily crafted to fit the staged portrayals of those who see what they want to see and seek to rig the outcome in their favor. Alexander Winton and others did so in spectacular fashion but failed.”

Barrett drops his broad shoulders in a sickening realization, “We are the ones being staged now."

“As it was then, it is now. It has been for generations.”

“Generations? I do not understand.”

Erinbol moves slowly around the pit, “The Prophecy Persophonea was not nearly as specific as it was made out to be. It was not even discovered by Alexia Winton, as the sensationalized story goes, but merely placed there for her to find. Neither daughter of darkness or light were ever named, not in the original text anyway.”

“You have read the original…and never intervened on their behalf. That does not surprise me.”

“It is not our place to intervene.”

“Somehow I doubt that. Where did it come from?”

“I am afraid we do not have time for that now. What is important to know is that this cycle has happened many times before although none made it as far as Karen Winton did. Unfortunately, she was destroyed before she could assume the throne beside her Emperor who, in the prophecy, played the role of the Master.”

“What role do I play?”

“I think you know.”

He glances away, the entire concept too heavy for him to detangle at the moment. Barrett does not trust the Sith but he no longer trusts the Emperor either. The effort to coalesce around participants in a game they never knew they were playing is staggering. He wants to know how deep this hole goes.

“You called Quentin the Unconventional Champion.”

“One whose loyalties do not align with those of the primaries of the prophecy yet they forsake everything they know to protect them. Quentin could have – should have – exposed Dahlia last year but he did not. Why do you think that is?”

“He is in love with her,” he hisses lowly.

“In that role, romantic love is inconsequential. It is the purpose they inspire that truly matters.”

“You make Quentin sound noble when he is anything but. There is something else. From the clearly manipulated knowledge I have, there was said to be a catalyst. Someone who covets what the daughter of darkness has.”

“The Beast.”

“Is The Beast always a Winton?"

“It is.”

“You cannot possibly be saying..."

“I do not have to say what Gemma’s Jedi companions have already discovered to be true. Once again the Jedi acted too late to stop what is coming.”

This further complicates things but he forces himself to focus on the purpose of the visit, “And Schrag?”

“That is the question, isn’t it? The reason you are really here. It is believed the prophecy can only end one way. Any variant outcome dooms others to begin the cycle again. As I have said before, Dahlia is operating with knowledge and context those that preceded her were not. She was shown her father’s schemes and how he manipulated them all in an attempt to live eternally through the legacy gene found within the Gellar bloodline.”

“Then why give Emperor Schrag the sample?”

Erinbol chuffs, waving a hand across the air over the flames.

“To prove to you his intentions, of course. You believe you are all being tested. This was Schrag’s. He failed. The allure of the legacy gene was too strong a pull for a tactician who sees an advantage in the long game. You would never have believed it otherwise. He used Dahlia’s exposure to plant the artifact on Chandaar and your prowess to negotiate the truce with the Republic, letting them all descend into a slowly imploding paranoid mess. His steady leadership would be their only way out in the end.”

Barrett’s jaw tightens, “And the two of us?”

“Tools to be leveraged in a zero-sum game. If you do not kill Dahlia, Schrag will kill you both with the legacy gene as a failsafe. However, I do not think he has gotten far. Schrag knows battle but he does not know science. Still, once you have fulfilled your purpose, he will have no use for you. He would need no successor if he can live forever. Remember, Schrag is no fool. He saw this coming together; your roles being clarified through circumstances advancing the narrative forward with no intervention of his own and he fears it. He fears you both. And, just like the Jedi, he cannot stop it. Now you know why he wants Dahlia dead and you submissive to his orders.”

The anger rises in him, turning the glow of the fire into a brilliant inferno.

“I trusted him.”

The Sith is pleased but there is a difference between knowledge and action.

“Trust can be broken. Think of all you have done.”

“The truce? That only serves his ends.”

“Coruscant does not.”

“Coruscant?”

He turns the final card, the one that would solidify his purpose.

“You and Dahlia are the reason for its return. The Dark Queen of Hapes destroyed it trying to exact revenge on Karen Winton. Alexia Winton met her end amongst the ruins. Dahlia set in motion its reformation last summer but it was your union that gave the planet shape around a Sith artifact hidden at its center many years ago – an artifact called The Etheralis. That, dear Barrett, serves your end. Both of yours.”

Alarms rise in the distance, his eyes trailing from the angular Sith figure and the door.

“Go now.”

“We are not finished.”

“There is a more pressing matter.”

“More pressing than this insane conspiracy? I do not believe for a moment that this was not staged around your own motives. We will be used no longer, Erinbol.”

“Go,” he says. “And you will see.”

Something tugs at him, drawing him away. With the blaster still in hand, Barrett departs. There is a glimmer of red light, the faintest outlines of symbols across the air as he passes through the doorway. He is outraged over the things Erinbol told him but there is no denying the sense everything now begins to make. It certainty gives destiny a new meaning. The corridors begin to change in as much an architectural choice as a mental one. It does not take him long to realize he is heading exactly where the Emperor had instructed him to go – Dahlia’s chamber. He arrives to find it unguarded and alarms blaring over his head. The room where Dahlia was being held lies empty.

The princess is gone.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on May 20, 2020, 04:12:23 PM

“It’s all still the same
Everything’s untouched but forever changed.”

-OK Go

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

Barrett returns to the throne room knowing he would likely be walking to his death. Worth it, he surmises, if Dahlia got away. Come what may. No amount of tactical strategy would get him out of an order he was bound to disobey. Not this time. Not with Imperial motives called into question. His loyalties crystalize when he appears before a grimly expressed Emperor Schrag. The cavernous nature of the space only serves to amplify his isolation and determination. He would face this fate alone.

“It seems you have failed, Ambassador Trevaithan. The princess has escaped.”

“Was that not your intention?” he asks with a trace of accusation.

“You would be wise not to tell me about my intentions. Your conflict in this matter only reinforces its necessity. You do not see clearly when it comes to the Winton royal and that is a problem for me. She clouds your judgment; makes you question things that, until recently, had only been met with obedience and trust. These incongruencies are troubling as I have been more than clear with my orders. You falter under her influence and I cannot allow it.”

“Then why bring me to her in the first place? We were introduced to your behest.”

“A reluctant behest, mind you, and I needed something from her.”

“Gellar’s sample.”

“Among other things.”

“And now that you have it?”

The Emperor regards him coldly, rising from the throne to descend the steps in a menacing, measured pace. He knows the boy is compromised and at a precarious crossroads. That is why he was chosen along with Agent Swire. They each had roles to play but Quentin was expected to cross the line. Barrett was not. Now he edges closer to defiance that could undo everything they have worked so hard to build. He must remind him of their goal, an appeal to pull his protégé back from the brink of self-destruction. Schrag shifts his tone.

“You heard the stories as I have. Alexander Winton allegedly used Imperial resources for a special project through a joint and hidden venture with the Trade Federation. Nothing is on record, of course. Anyone operating at that level of risk would know to cover their tracks carefully and thoroughly. But there was enough anecdotal evidence to make it worth pursuing...and defending. We had to know for certain. When the first attempt at Gellar’s sample failed, the Sith managed to procure Patten’s. It was only after Dahlia delivered a viable Gellar sample that the two were compared and found to have identical components, only to a much greater degree in Gellar’s. These components were integral for replication and integration with technology in ways the Empire can leverage. It proved the stories to be true, bringing life where life does not exist. Imagine the possibilities, Barrett. Dahlia sowed the seeds and the Republic is collapsing in on itself. We need now only the right moment to emerge as their saviors to reclaim what is rightfully ours. The truce you constructed and negotiated was always meant to this very end.”

“As it serves your interests,” he counters. “Much like the legacy gene’s applications serves as a path to immortality. What I also remember from those stories is how it ended. Winton died and presumably his project did as well.”

“His daughter and their friends undermined him.”

“What makes you think his daughter will not do the same now? Or, is that why she must die? Her powers are dangerous but not as dangerous as the potential for her to replicate the plans that foiled her father’s obsession. He used them as you are using us and that is a problem for me.”

“Clever boy,” Schrag sighs. “I am disappointed but not surprised. You are not the first they have turned but rest assured you will be the last.”

The Emperor knocks Barrett’s blaster aside before he has it fully drawn, landing a solid open-handed blow to the center of his chest. Barrett tumbles backward, pulling himself into a roll to skid on his boots and rise in a fighting stance. Schrag advances on him.

“You would risk it all, everything we have done, for her?”

“I would. We were never part of the eventual outcome. This long con was only meant to bring you closer to a position where you could extend your own life and rule through the legacy gene the same way Winton hoped to.”

“Your deaths will ensure our dominance,” Emperor Schrag growls. “A sacrifice for our cause. It is a shame you could not see that. Not to worry, once I finish you, I will find Dahlia and finally put an end to the Winton name. It will only be a matter of time until I dispose of Gellar and Patten too so that The Four will never pose a threat to the Empire again.”

Barrett shakes his head, “That is where you are wrong. Underestimating them cost many lives in the past and you will fare no better. Change course or you will wind up paying the same price."

“I decline.”

They charge at each other with the ferocity of a soured father-son relationship. Schrag had been drawn to him and came to see Barrett as an equal and eventual successor. Now he sees that the boy is no different than Dementat; a brilliance and talent dampened by the seductive influence of that rancorous redhead. He would meet his end the same way, avenging her ambiguous honor. Schrag had been skeptical of the Sith's counsel, whispers that they, like the others, had been acting on some kind of cosmic loop. He did not believe it until this moment.

They are spiraling toward a future he can only prevent in one way.

Barrett slams into Schrag with his shoulders, forcing him back against the stone steps. The Emperor flips him around, tightening his arm around Barrett’s throat. Using the stairs to ground himself, he smashes his head into the Emperor’s face with enough give for him to escape his grip. Barrett whirls around, jabbing him twice but when he goes for a third, the Emperor lands a kick to the side of his head. He loses footing, staggering down the steps, and crashes on the floor. The Emperor towers over him and Barrett places a hand up in defense as he lunges forward. Inky black tendrils of smoke curl around his arm to form a staff with a pointed edge that plunges into the center of Schrag’s chest. The Emperor gasps and coughs a violent spray of blood across Barrett’s face. His head rolls forward, arms slack, against the weight of the imperceivable weapon. Barrett closes his hand and the staff vanishes in a wisp of smoke. Schrag falls forward, landing dead against the floor with a sickening thud.

Confused, Barrett scrambles backward. He does not know how this happened but one thing remains clear from the darkening pool of blood expanding around Schrag’s body: he has murdered the Emperor.

“Well done, lover,” Dahlia says, emerging from the shadows of the throne room in an impossibly tight black jumpsuit and heeled boots. Her lightsaber swings from an asymmetrical belt which she grazes with gloved fingers as she moves closer to him. “It was him or us and as I told you before, I will not be a pawn in the games of others. This is our path to forge."

“Where…did you even get that?”

She runs a hand up her thigh, “Oh, this old thing? Let us stick to the relevant narrative inconsistencies, shall we? We were being used to further Schrag’s endgame, one that included our deaths and countless others. You did the right thing.”

“But what did I do? I cannot explain it…”

“It is called the spear of midnight black,” Erinbol explains as he appears behind Dahlia. “The Darkshear. And it has always been a part of your connection to the Force.”

“No, I never-“

“You have. Think back to your days at the Carida Academy, fights you engaged in where your opponents sustained injuries that could not have come from the physical altercation alone. The spear is only one manifestation of the weapons you can conjure, only a fraction of your capabilities as a warrior of the dark side.”

Spun, Barrett’s eyes drop slowly to Schrag’s body, “He is dead, Dahlia. Once discovered, there will be a coup and we do not have the allies to formally succeed him.”

“We will not need them, not yet anyway.”

“Your cavalier and predictably glib response are, as usual, not helpful. Even if we claim the throne, we will be quickly overthrown and executed. The Republic will seize on this opportunity to further capitalize on the stage that we set.”

“Darling, you were just so adamant against underestimating me. Do not tell me you are having second thoughts now?”

“Your social scheming will not undo what I have done.”

“Do not be so certain,” she says, glancing over her shoulder as Emperor Schrag steps out of the shadows to join them. Barrett’s eyes widen, glancing between Dahlia and Darth Erinbol.

“What is this? A trick? A glamour?”

She smiles, “A stand-in. Our Sith allies have lent their talents to us before, infiltrating even the most secure circles. The strategy is simple, lover. The Emperor will be replaced with a Voss-Ra disciple to rule as a figurehead and remain here on Byss. With Erinbol’s assistance, we will be allowed space and time to execute Schrag’s plan, only without the immortality angle.”

Erinbol steps in and kneels beside the Emperor’s body, lowering his head and placing two fingers against the center of his back. Schrag’s body and surrounding pool of blood turn a pale grey, crack apart and begin to swirl in a cloud of ash that disappears into the darkness of the room. The Voss-Ra “Schrag” ascends the stairs to the throne, watching silently above them. Barrett turns to Dahlia with a renewed sense that they are finally on the same page.

“I love you but I need answers.”

Dahlia takes his hands in hers.

“And you shall have them but we must find and destroy any ties to the legacy gene. Going down that path will only lead to our demise as it has for anyone who ever pursued it. Promise me, Barrett. That is not our destiny. We will save the Republic in order to build and rule our new Empire but the legacy gene distorts any real sense of meaning. There are no stakes if we can live forever. So, when we die, we die."

"How...pragmatic of you."

"I know," she says, gently touching the side of his face. "It is why we will build a legacy worth remembering.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on July 01, 2020, 04:27:51 PM

“Just like a sin, those tinted eyes
Hold your disguise, I should know better.”

-DVBBS

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

“The end of the legacy gene,” he says. “I swear it.”

“Why do I feel like there is a ‘but’ coming on?”

“Because there is. I do not know where Schrag was conducting his tests.”

Dahlia gingerly wipes flecks of the Emperor’s blood off Barrett’s face, “Surely you have an idea, darling. You were closer to him than anyone.”

“I do.”

She smiles, “Let’s hear it then.”

“The agents who experimented with the ChemiX serum, Ibellum, operate somewhere deep in the bowels of the Citadel. They pulled the strings with Vex and continue to do so with Quinn. If we can find them, it is a good bet we can find where the legacy gene is being tested.”

She feels a pang, possibly guilt but probably not, of having thrust her vapid friend into a world of clandestine mystery and danger. So, it is just like modeling except everyone has weapons. It had to be done in order to get here.

“Let the hunt begin.”

“There is something I need to know first. How did you survive? How did you survive the destruction of the Bolerathon Tower and wind up on a recently reformed and somehow habitable Coruscant? You must tell me that.”

“I could tell you,” Dahlia says slyly. “But I would rather show you.”

Barrett looks confused but Dahlia reaches out a hand toward him and the other toward Erinbol. Once the three of them are connected, he gasps as his eyes disappear into a white flash.

*

Bolerathon Tower, interior. Winton Penthouse. Living room. Dahlia is hovering in the air in front of the Inquisitor, pulsing black sphere around them, one hand on the lip of its armor and the other bringing the pink saber down. The sphere winks out and everything goes dark. It materializes with both of them inside, only now they are in the center of a sprawling field. Four rock formations frame the pair and the Inquisitor seizes on the confusion to make a move, leveraging the distorted momentum to grab and toss her aside. Dahlia uses the Force to control the fall, digging in with those platform sandals to stop the skid and rises enraged in a fashionable minidress. Not exactly a battle outfit but it would do. She stalks forward, throwing out her free hand to send a powerful shockwave launching the Inquisitor back. In an instant, she is looming over it with a saber at its throat.

“You are beaten.”

“As it was written,” it says. “So it shall be.”

“I will never join you.”

“No, it is I who will join you.”

Dahlia backs away, keeping the saber out in front of her, “Get up, asshole. In the tower, you said the time of the Sith had passed.”

The Inquisitor rises and laughs beneath the mask, “What it once was, not what it could be. With you.”

“Who are you?”

“I am the Inquisitor Involis.”

“That part I know. Who are you really?”

The green saber disappears into the armor, reaching up to pull off the mask. Male, older, with features that are somehow familiar to her. All three Winton sisters share the same face and lips of the Queen, soft and full, but eyes, complexion, and hair come from Alexander Winton. Pale yet dazzling and bold. The Inquisitor has the same eye shape, the same oval face only with the olive complexion of her mother.

“Someone closer than you think. My name is Seif, son of Medivh Guldon of the Trade Federation and Elle Greyson, sister of Queen Monica Greyson and your aunt.”

“No,” Dahlia breathes. “That is impossible.”

“Is it?”

“I searched my records when I found out who I really was and my aunt died when she and my mother were teenagers, long before Karen and Alexia were born!”

Seif smirks, “Records, as you well know, can be falsified. I was taken from my mother on Naboo, someone plagued with the same visions as your own, and raised on Empress Teta. But it was not long before the Voss-Ra found me, told me of my true heritage, and I trained under the Sith.”

She shakes it off, the heavy familial weirdness, finally taking a moment to look around.

“Fascinating. Where the hell are we?”

“On the surface of Coruscant.”

“I’m sorry, what? How is that even, like, possible?”

“The Force has so much more to offer than anyone realizes or dares explore. Fortune favors the bold and you, Princess Dahlia, are the boldest of the Winton’s.”

“Obviously. Now, where’s my crown?”

“Waiting for you to claim it but there is work we must do first.”

“We?”

“You are the rightful heir, the one who will fulfill the prophecy, and I have been called to serve as your protector.”

Dahlia places a hand on her hip, “Ummmm, you, like, literally just tried to murder me.”

“And yet here you are. Think the others can say the same?”

She glances up at the glittering moon faded against the stark blue skies of Coruscant. She thought she had given them enough time to escape but now she is not so sure. Could she really be the last of The Four? To the victor goes the spoils or whatever. As he moves closer, a circular piece at the center of his armor glows a brilliant green. She cannot help but stare, mesmerized by a dark power calling out to her.

He brings an armored glove to it.

“It is connected to the Etheralis, the artifact you placed at the center of this system which, combined with the power of The Four, allowed for the reformation of Coruscant. It is your first gift to the galaxy, one of many your rule will bring. There is an undeniable power in your collective efforts, one that makes you target for elimination. The plan is in motion but dangerous obstacles remain, namely the Emperor which is why you will allow yourself to be captured by him.”

“I most certainly will not! He has had it out for me from the beginning.”

“Schrag is no fool. He saw the threat Karen posed and what it did to Dementat. Even though you have proved useful, he knows that if he is to keep the throne you must not survive. It will be either him or you. Your champion must choose.”

“My…you mean Barrett?”

Seif nods, “I am sorry, daughter of darkness, but your fate is tied to the Master’s.”

“So, in order to present that choice, I must offer myself up as some kind of sacrifice? That totally sucks!”

“Come on, Dahlia, everyone is dying to know how this ends.”

*

Barrett blinks, jerking away from them. Reality spirals back to him and the throne room slowly comes back into focus.

“You…you…set me up?”

“No, a choice was presented and you chose. Well done, darling."

He holds up a hand, mouth dry, as he processes everything he just saw and heard.

“Wait. You teleported to the surface of Coruscant and the Inquisitor is…your cousin?”

She flips her hair, shrugging, “Wild, right? The mystery deepens.”

Barrett turns angrily toward Erinbol, “How does that make him a Winton? You said there was another.”

“From a certain point of view.”

“Do not give me that religious perspective bullshit. How?”

He glances at Dahlia. She sighs, "Go ahead, blow his mind."

“The same thing that makes them all who they are. A single inception point, a shared ancestor, that spawned the four families over the course of generations. He is but one of those descendants, four families whose names we all know - Winton, Masterton, Gellar, and Patten – originated from the same individual, our reverend mother, the dark goddess Persephone.”

“You knew about this?”

Dahlia shakes her head, “I found out right before you did. Apparently, we are on some kind of cosmic loop. It does explain why some of the things that have happened, well, happened.”

Darth Erinbol continues, “Winton is Gellar is Masterton is Patten. They are one and the same. The Winton and Masterton lines possess Force ability while Patten and Gellar the legacy gene. Together, or used in combination with one another, there are extremely powerful yet unpredictable outcomes.”

“What about me? I am not…like…?”

“No,” Erinbol says quickly. “The Master has never been a descendant.”

While Barrett mentally spins out, Dahlia muses on it now that she has a moment. So, she is technically related to Dane which makes all his jabs about their lack of a biological connection all the more laughable. She cannot wait to throw that in his face. Well, if he survived their Bolerathon boom-boom time. The incestual twist in Gemma and Riley’s relationship is just too much. This shit just got interesting.

“The Voss-Ra saw in their blood magics the potential for The Four to unite the galaxy in peace, obliterating any chance for the prophecy to come to pass. They swore death on anyone who stood in the way of what they consider the essence, the philosophy behind fulfilling the Prophecy Persephonea.”

Erinbol’s eyes shimmer beneath the hood of his robe.

“A philosophy called The Crimson Covenant.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on July 29, 2020, 04:10:07 PM

“Feelin the pressure
Baby, know the pressure’s only coming from you.”

-James Vickery

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

Before they arouse suspicion by charging into unknown areas of the Citadel in a quest to destroy the legacy gene, they need a plan and plenty of practice. They could delve into the Voss-Ra philosophy when they had a better sense of their capabilities.

Barrett spends long, grueling days with Darth Erinbol honing his gift. The training is intense but rewarding as Barrett begins to finally understand his connection to the Force and what they may mean in the larger sense. The Darkshear is unique and holds more potential than anyone realized. It is slow going at first but Erinbol starts gradually, guiding Barrett to find a connection that has been ever-present just below the surface which is much more prominent when fueled by the dark power emanating from Byss. For every failure, the Sith builds him back up. While the boy may be older than most to begin such training, he is a soldier and tactician by nature. An experienced fighter with a formal background at the Carida Academy, Barrett learns quickly and is not deterred by the early setbacks. He approaches it with everything he has and progress is both swift and impressive.

By the end of the first week, he is able to produce an array of melee weapons, slashing his way through the training courses Erinbol sets with increasing levels of difficulty. By the end of the second, he can conjure a protective shield and set of kinetic axes to throw with a precision the Sith has not seen in some time. The boy is talented and determined. Even with the questions that linger, he can push them aside to complete the objectives set before him. For the next phase, Erinbol brings Dahlia in first as a sparring partner then to see how they work together. Although he manages to hold his own, Barrett is ultimately no match for the Winton royal. She had been expertly trained and remains remarkably versed in her skillset. As partners, their abilities complement one another nicely which is what Erinbol had hoped. His Darkshear weapons and combat skills combined with her controlled telekinetic and saber attacks make them extremely formidable opponents who leave the training room decimated. +

Darth Erinbol is pleased.

As Barrett continues to train, Dahlia catches up on galactic events. As far as everyone else is concerned, she went down with the Bolerathon Tower. So too, did Gemma, it seems. She has been confined to the Citadel for now as they could not afford to have her status leak just yet. There would be time for a grand resurrection, one that will both surprise and delight. She sees that Dane and Alka made it back to the Corporate Sector and testified before the Direx Board that the Chiss were responsible for the attack. Interesting. Ambassador Burke Pallus apparently circumstantially confirmed this account. The narrative details track as Balthazar Nash had a clear motive to go after them considering what happened to Roman. The body count of CSA offspring in connection with the Chiss would make for compelling drama and it appears the Direx Board members moved swiftly, all but crippling Palace Arms’ position within the sector. She is surprised to discover that they accepted a bid by ChemiX for acquisition…spearheaded by Dane Gellar. Well, wonders never cease. Guess Lord Gellar sobered up enough to exact his own revenge for Preston and Roman’s deaths, even if the foundation of the takeover was based on lies. Dahlia is actually happy for him, taking control of his destiny and plowing forward despite everything that has happened. His expanding power could be useful to them in the end.

Her feelings about Gemma, however, are mixed. They had always been adversarial given their proclivities and leanings but despite the hatred Adubell tried to sow in her, she never really blamed Gemma. Rutherford and Celeste, as nurturing as they had been during their second chance at getting parenthood right, had their own sins to contend with. Those sins led to Alexia’s insanity and Karen’s demise at the hands of Melanie. They both paid the price for it and she had grieved those losses. She scans the headlines for anything about Riley and while there are many theories about what the boy billionaire is up to, it seems no one really knows where he is. The official word is that he had taken time away to grieve Gemma’s death with the Holo nearly rabid with speculation about what he may do to avenge her. She wonders if he would feel differently if he knew where they all really came from.

On that note, Dahlia feels bad that she lied to Barrett about knowing the origins of The Four. Erinbol did fill her in when she came to him before the big Barrett-Schrag showdown but what he did not know was that it was not the first time she had heard the tale. Darth Immortus told her that she was the one who carried the full power of the prophecy within her. She just needs Barrett to believe they are on equal footing, at least until he grapples with the realities of who they are and what they represent – the end of the prophecy and future of the Sith. Immortus believes that combining two of the four could make her immortal but what served as the sole motivator for her father was not what motivated her.

Princess Dahlia does not want to be immortal.

The concept is almost repulsive to her – why spend your days watching everyone you love and care about die around you? Besides, such power was known to distort one's physical image, making them hideously deformed and there was no way in hell she would forgo these good genes for someone else’s grand vision. She and Barrett would make their own, rule their Empire, age gracefully, and hopefully, one day see it passed down to their equally attractive and talented heirs.

After a few unbelievably difficult weeks of training, they come together in his chamber. It is a bit sparse for her tastes but comfortable none the less, a sanctuary away from the rest of the worlds. They had made love more times than she can count and their bond had grown considerably. Each of them was still withholding information but they were getting closer to the kind of partnership that would make them the kind of rulers this galaxy needs.

“I never knew I had it in me,” he says, falling onto the bed completely spent.

She lowers herself down beside him, “I did.”

“Is that so?”

“I knew it would take you time to get there but I sensed it the moment we met.”

“I thought you hated me.”

“Oh, I definitely did. You hated me too. It is often the case when one meets their match.”

He laughs, “Match?”

“You can stop pretending like I did not wipe the floor with you during our sparring sessions.”

“This is all new for me!”

“Keep telling yourself that, darling.”

His smile fades as he rolls onto his back, staring up at the dark ceiling. She pulls her legs onto the bed.

“Too far?”

“No,” he says. “It’s just…Schrag. Can’t seem to get it out of my head.”

“He chose, Barrett. He chose himself over you or anyone else. If you had not stopped him, he would have created who knows how many clones of himself to rule forever. You would have outlived your usefulness eventually.”

“Logically, I know that. But he was my friend, a mentor that I trusted. How do I reconcile the fact that I murdered him?”

“You protected both of us."

“By killing him.”

She sighs, reaching out to run a hand over his arm. It is finally time to come clean.

“We have that in common.”

“What do you mean?” he asks, even if he has an idea.

“I murdered Muriel Monroe, my best friend. The one person I thought I could trust above all others. You know, after my kidnapping, I found Muriel floating in her pool. She had taken too many pills. I could have let her drown. In fact, the Sith had warned me against attachments but I just could not bring myself to do it and I rescued her. But in the end, Muriel and Tobias discovered what I was and I could not let them escape the Bolerathon Tower with that knowledge. True, Quentin helped me cover it up but I set that all in motion. I made the decision and it is something I have carried with me for years.”

Barrett turns over and sits up, taking her hands in his.

“Why did you never tell me? Why let me wonder what you were hiding? I feel like you never trusted me enough.”

Dahlia lowers her head, “The truth? I believed that despite your feelings for me, your loyalty was always to the Emperor and his agenda. Confessing this would have proved him right, that I was too dangerous and I feared you may turn on me.”

“I could have turned on you with your gamble in allowing Schrag to capture you.”

“You could have but this would have all played out very differently. The prophecy would remain unfulfilled and the cycle would begin again. All these people would have died for nothing."

He reaches out and strokes the side of her face, sitting up to bring his lips to hers. Barrett has never felt closer to her than in these past few weeks. Finally, they were getting to a place of trust but there was still one card not played. He would play it now. She risked it all for him and now he would return the gesture.

“As long as we’re being honest, there is something you should probably know too.”

“Tell me.”

“Gemma survived the explosion at Bolerathon Tower,” he says. “And I let her go.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on September 02, 2020, 05:34:24 PM

“Wandering stars, for whom it is reserved
The blackness of darkness forever.”

-Portishead

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

“I’m sorry, what?”

“You heard me,” he says, rising from the bed. “It was a choice made under duress. The tower had exploded and I found everyone on the beach. Trichelle was mortally wounded and they were asking questions, speculating over your motivations behind inviting them there. That’s when the others showed up.”

“What others?”

“Some guy with tats and a blaster and a girl with purple hair and a lightsaber.”

Dahlia hisses, “Demaris.”

“Friends of yours?”

“More like a self-righteous thorn in my side but who can really tell these days?”

Demaris would not be a problem if the Voss-Ra had taken her out but all they managed to do was drive her right into the arms of the Jedi. Adubell would be laughing in her face right about now but it is not like she has a reputation to protect. Everyone already suspects a Winton to do something crazy which is why she had to keep distance between herself and any adverse action taken against the Jedi. The goal was to keep this about the Republic’s vendetta, not introduce further doubts about her.

“It is not your fault but I was hoping to be down a couple of members of The Four by now. At least Gemma and Riley. They are definitely the most annoying. Dane is still useful. What was the consensus about the trip to Hesperidium?”

Barrett crosses his arms, “They were convinced you brought them all together because of Coruscant.”

“You and I reformed Coruscant.”

“But we did not give it life. The planet began rapidly terraforming after you four arrived on the resort moon. It baffled even the most seasoned Imperial scientists. Care to elaborate?”

She shrugs, “There was a mystical element to the Bolerathon Tower, no surprises there. Those that died within it were seemingly trapped in spirit form but Gemma found a way to release them. Combined powers of The Four, etc. etc. and poof – Coruscant lives!”

“Incredible. How did she do it?”

“A Sith incantation, if you can believe it. She did not seem to know or care where it came from as long as it worked. And boy, did it ever. It may have helped things along but it does not change the fact that the prophecy is pretty specific about the endgame.”

“Only one can survive, right?”

“Or so the story goes. I am supposed to be dead so it is not like I can go traipsing around just yet so we will have to engineer a way to eliminate the others by circumstance.”

Barrett cocks his head back, “This is your family, Dahlia. Can you really get rid of them so easily?”

“It is not like I do not care about them. I do. But this is bigger than them, than any of us really. The Voss-Ra is an ancient order who worshipped my sisters and now me. They likely had their hopes pinned on others in our bloodline as well. Whatever the Crimson Covenant is, I am guessing it centers around a belief that the true Winton will restore the Sith to power. We are talking True Believers with a capital T and capital B. They spent Maker knows how long cajoling things along only for the last cycle to come the closest and fail. There is a lot riding on this and it seems the only way to end the prophecy is to fulfill it. It is us or them, Barrett. I choose us.”

He extends a hand which she takes as he draws her against him.

“That is what worries me the most – the cajoling part. Who is to say they do not have ulterior motives and we are just means to their end?”

She smiles, “That is an excellent question, one I am certain Erinbol will clarify over dinner.”

“You trust him?”

“I trust that we want the same things. He leveraged the Inquisitor under Schrag’s nose and helped you find your power all so we could reach this point. I say that at least earns our attention and respect.”

“For now.”

*

Princess Dahlia and Ambassador Trevaithan join Darth Erinbol and Faux-Schrag in the Emperor's private dining hall. He sports a fitted formal uniform emblazoned with the Imperial sigil while Dahlia chose a shimmering aubergine gown from the collection on the royal cruiser. Her crimson hair is pulled back into a braided bun with black chandelier earrings and heels. Faux-Schrag sits silently at the head of the table, a stoic figurehead for their stage. Erinbol is to his left. Barrett takes the right and Dahlia sits directly across. The meal is delicious but soon the banter veers toward their mission.

“The operation on Chandaar is complete.”

“Good,” Erinbol says. “Might as well make use of the tools we have available.”

“What operation?”

“A hit on a Republic firm, one that represented opponents of the F.U.R.A.”

“Courtesy of the Q’s?”

He nods, “It will further divide them and prove a very fine point. The Republic can no longer be trusted. Their actions have become authoritarian, their worst fears realized, which is sure to cause an uproar in the Senate. I have already voiced my disapproval of their singular focus as it leaves them open to attack.”

Dahlia takes a sip of wine, “One I am sure you have already planned.”

“Their borders will be tested with Imperial forces saving the day. Further proof they need more stable leadership. Leeds has become the monster we wanted him to be, thanks to you.”

“The Force works in mysterious ways.”

Erinbol smiles thinly, “Everything is coming together as it should. For that, we are grateful.”

“As much as I appreciate the sentiment, there are still several loose ends.”

“You speak of the others. They will be dealt with.”

“How exactly?”

“Three assets have been released back into separate environments that should further tip the scales in our favor. The Corellian asset has been activated and their actions will draw the Republic’s scrutiny and wrath. As this is likely the location where Gemma Masterton and Riley Patten will reappear, they will be lost in the ensuing fallout.”

Corellia. What is it about that place anyway? Like, a shitload of people from their epic saga died there, including the original Four. It could be the perfect place for another slew of deaths, especially if it was designed with that in mind. Dahlia’s mind veers elsewhere.

“Is Garron Prescott one of these assets?”

“He is, Darth D’Cera. Please forgive my lack of candor during your last visit. The real Schrag would never have agreed to such actions given how they benefit both of you.”

“I see, so Garron’s presence in the Corporate Sector has Dane covered.”

“His companies’ acquisition of Palace Arms, at the suggestion of Ambassador Pallus, puts them in a lucrative position. For everyone involved.”

“And the third asset?”

“Janessa Kain in the Republic.”

“Pity,” Dahlia says. “I quite admire her.”

“Now she will be a vessel for your ascension. She fell in our lap after digging into Prescott’s disappearance, we believe on the directive of Dane Gellar.”

“That is bold, even for him.”

“If she found out we had him then Gellar could never be swayed.”

“Understandable. I was on the fence with you lot as well. I hate being kept in the dark.”

“Surely you realize things had not progressed to point where this information would have done what we needed it to. You may have reacted poorly and compromised events leading Schrag to kill you both. We could not allow that.”

Barrett clears his throat and smirks at her. Dahlia rolls her eyes.

“Although the F.U.R.A. gives us insight and locations of those with Force sensitivity and the Jedi’s numbers have been significantly reduced, they are still a lingering threat. Thankfully, it is being handled.”

The Inquisitor steps out of the shadows, an ominous presence in his glowing armor.

“So,” Barrett says. “This is the infamous Inquisitor Involis. I do not think we have been properly introduced given the cruel politics of, well, pretty much everything we do.”

“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Barrett Trevaithan. Your work with the truce was nothing short of inspiring although I much prefer to operate outside the system for obvious reasons.”

“And you are quite skilled at it from what I hear. I believe you already know the princess.”

He turns, bowing slightly.

“Yes, we share more than a common goal. I am Seif Greyson-Guldon, cousin of the daughter of darkness.”

“I take it the real Schrag knew nothing of this connection.”

Erinbol shakes his head, “I assure you he did not as the liability would have been too great.”

“I am here to serve you both,” Seif says. “In whatever capacity you need.”

“I am pleased to hear it even if I do not entirely believe it. If this really is a loop and you are the Beast in this cycle then you covet what Dahlia has as Alexia did with Karen. Forgive me if that does not inspire much trust.”

"Barrett..."

"No, let him speak. I am sure you are curious as well."

“Desire, yes as it is an enviable destiny yet it is not mine to have. Covet implies a begrudging of the one who has it but I do not begrudge you or Dahlia. You are the rightful heirs and I look forward to proving that to you both.”

Barrett and Seif stare silently at each other for an uncomfortably long time.

“Awkwaaaard,” Dahlia sighs dramatically. “We get it, you are skeptical, darling but do allow him a chance to show us what he can do. There are many moving parts with much we cannot leave to chance. Speaking of, how can you be so sure Gemma and Riley will end up on Corellia?”

“I would not worry about it, your Highness.”

“And why is that?”

“Because someone on their team is actually on ours.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on October 14, 2020, 08:21:29 PM

“We can’t escape who we are
Story repeating, circles are meeting
And now it’s taking us back to the start
We try to fight it, but can’t live without it.
The games (the games) we play (we play)
Are written by our dark, dark hearts.”

-Annie

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

A hush falls over the throne room.

The imposter Emperor watches closely with Darth Erinbol floating on one side and the Inquisitor a silent sentinel on the other. Below, Princess Dahlia and Barrett Trevaithan assume fighting stances on opposite ends of the room. Erinbol wanted to show the Voss-Ra disciple, as well as the Inquisitor, the progress the two have made and staged a sparring match for their enjoyment.

A command from Faux-Schrag starts the match and the pair charge toward one another. Dahlia’s pink saber connects with the arsenal of weapons Barrett produces through his Darkshear powers in a spectacular fashion. Erinbol has worked with him extensively and exhaustively to tap into his connection with the Force to conjure the tools necessary for the adaptive nature of the battle. He is impressive in his newfound powers, countering her strikes and forcing her back into a defensive position. When she uses one of his Force created weapons as a platform to flip over him, Barrett erects a protective shield around himself that looks like a framework of imposing black, jagged paint strokes. She lands solidly, eyes pools of darkness, as she collects kinetic energy in her free hand and uses the pulse to shatter his shield and send him skidding across the stone floor.

“Princess Dahlia wins.”

Erinbol and the Inquisitor applaud. They have been training daily, carefully honing their skills and powers to work independently as well as together. They are in the best shapes of their lives and more in sync than ever. Erinbol had programmed increasingly difficult and dangerous sessions for them to fight their way out of with marvelous results. They must be prepared for anything.

She bows deeply then moves to help Barrett up.

“I almost had you.”

“Did you now? I will admit changing up the weapons throughout the fight kept me more off-guard than usual…”

She stumbles a bit but he is there to steady her.

“Hey, you okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, this grueling training schedule must be catching up to me.”

Erinbol hovers down the steps to join them, “Well done, you two. Barrett, your adaptability and control has greatly improved. And Dahlia. You seem to have found a balance neither of your sisters achieved.”

“Is that so?”

“Alexia was reckless and allowed the dark side to consumer her while Karen was too hesitant and self-involved to explore the full extent of her range.”

“Something I suspect could have been rectified with more effective communication from those behind the curtain.”

“The wheels were already in motion, your Highness.”

She smirks, hand finding its way to Barrett’s as they return to their chamber. Dahlia shares some of those same concerns about her familial history with the Force, not wanting to lose control the way she did on Hesperidium. Ever since she wound up on the newly reformed and rapidly terraforming Coruscant, she has been at one with her power. She feels more in control. Her connection to the Force comes with ease and the dark current pulsing beneath the surface no longer holds the same sense of taboo and terror it once did. Still, she had begun to feel off in the past week or so. Fatigued, sometimes a little dizzy. She has been pushing herself beyond her typical physical capacity which is great for her capabilities but definitely starting to take its toll. She needs a long nap but first, a hot shower and a lavish meal. These had become something of a regular occurrence but she rather enjoys the opulence and, surprisingly, the company as well.

When she steps out of the bathroom, she finds Barrett already changed for dinner. She allows the servant droids to help her dress and style her hair but sends them away when she notices Barrett begin to pace while frowning at a datapad.

“What is it? You are making me nervous with that dour expression.”

He glances up, catching her eye.

“I must return to Chandaar. There have been…developments that need my attention. The Senate is convening and while I have been a consistent remote presence, something tells me these matters will escalate in our favor more quickly if I am there in the flesh.”

“Anything interesting?”

“The arrest of the Corellian Senator.”

“How thrilling,” she says, dabbing color on her lips. “I take it everything is going according to plan?”

“Indeed. There are rumors Senator Soldys is only the first in the Republic’s quest to punish those with sympathies for the Force-sensitives of the galaxy. Other systems that have sided with them on this issue are now on full alert. The Speaker is positively livid from what I gather. They are looking to make an example. I was hoping to have taken the Senator’s counsel out of the equation with the hit on the firm, leaving him floundering and exposed, but she somehow survived. I am not sure what good it will do him though.”

“The Corinthos clan is running short on heirs so perhaps it is for the best.”

“The Counselor may be heavily guarded now but we still have a way in.”

“We always do.”

He places both hands on the chair and leans down close to her face. She smiles at him in the mirror.

“Can I leave you here without worrying about you misbehaving?”

“Perhaps. If there really is a traitor amongst Gemma’s little band of Jedi misfits then I can quite comfortably keep tabs on her, Riley, and Dane from beyond the illusory grave. However, there is still the issue of the legacy gene program and our sidelined attempts at finding whatever it was Schrag was up to. That is not something we should leave unchecked for long.”

He stands and offers an arm which she gratefully takes as they move toward the door and head down to join the others for dinner.

“Agreed. We do not want whatever is in motion to continue.”

“So, what do you propose, darling? It is not like I can wander freely around the Citadel given that few know I survived the attack at Bolerathon Tower.”

“There may be a solution to that.”

Darth Erinbol and the Inquisitor are waiting for them with the latter awkwardly holding a black box.

“Darth D’Cera,” he says, voice lowered and muffled within his costume. “May I present a gift for you. The, er, ultimate fashion accessory.”

“You fed him that line.”

“I did,” Barrett beams, proud of himself.

“Smooth.”

She takes the box and sets it on the table, “I think we should reserve use of the word ‘ultimate’ unless it is that Carteris necklace I saw.”

“Just open it.”

She pulls off the lid to find a petite helmet nestled on fine silk. The faceplate is a smooth, polished crimson ombre that fades into black, giving it a whole posh anonymous threat vibe. It would look ominous beneath a hood and she is already plotting outfits to coordinate. She is pleased with how striking it is, lifting it gently from the box.

“This is so beautiful…”

“Wait for it.”

“…but will it mess up my hair?”

As if sensing the moment, Faux-Schrag draws near, “It is the perfect cover and befitting both your status and style. There are enhancements within for air filtration and vision acuity you should enjoy. I shall grant you the authority to act on my behalf and you shall be free to roam the Citadel or anywhere else you so desire with your identity concealed.”

Dahlia smiles, “Thank you. All of you.”

After dinner, she helps pack Barrett up to depart for the Republic capital. She hoped it could wait until morning but understands, given the pressing nature of the situation. They are pushing the Republic to act on their worst impulses, likely triggering further dissent and, hopefully, a civil war that the Empire is ready and waiting to win. It will be a tremendous reversal, an image rehabbing the likes these worlds have never seen. Barrett has been the public face of the Empire, positioning himself as a more pragmatic leader, driven by principle, which Dahlia then made socially acceptable and sympathetic. The public ate it up as they are wont to do. Her “death” is only temporary and a return predicated on the need to stay hidden in fear of retaliation against her family as well as concern from Barrett that the Republic may have somehow been involved. The details and spin should make for quite the reveal, carefully woven into the lies Dane and company have already told to cover them. The thought of the celebrations alone makes her weak with anticipation.

Barrett kisses her hard, “Watch yourself around your cousin. I do not trust him.”

“Neither of us knows him well enough to trust him, darling, but I will.”

“I will be back as soon as I can.”

“Say hi to Quentin for me,” she teases.

He makes a face that turns into a devious smile, “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

Once he has gone, Dahlia is left with her thoughts. She runs a hand over the helmet she set on the desk. It is practical as well as thoughtful although she never considered herself a mask person in the literal sense. They all wear masks, become different versions of themselves depending on the audience. She has had to wear many; a dutiful daughter, supportive sister, resilient hostage, empowered survivor, earnest student, passionate lover, secret Sith savior. She is better at wearing some over others but has become emboldened by the turning tide.

Barrett’s words linger with her; suspicions around Seif, Erinbol, the Voss-Ra, and the true meaning behind the Crimson Covenant. Dahlia does not want to be a pawn in anyone’s game but feels compelled to continue playing if the alternative is forfeiting the possibility of building something great. She thinks about how many others must have suffered through this process, disconnected and unaware, as the prophecy tried desperately to ensnare them. If they had known what she does, could they have gotten the upper hand, wrestled away control, and forged their own paths? Did Darth Immortus speak to others the way he spoke to her? She supposes not if she alone carries the full power of the prophecy, an amalgamation of those that came before.

The True Winton, whatever the hell that means.

As confusing and intoxicating as the whole saga is, she still feels odd. Drained. Dahlia discreetly summons a medical droid that enters the chamber and approaches her.

“What services may I provide this evening?”

“A simple diagnostic will do.”

“Please list any symptoms you are currently experiencing.”

“Tired, mostly. I had a bit of a dizzy spell earlier today.”

“Please place your finger on the sterilized pad.”

The prick is only minimally annoying and so she crosses her arms to wait for the droid to tell her she is fine. It is all in her head. A byproduct of the slave-driving Erinbol and his training. Nothing to worry about, right?

“Analyzing now.”

“Well?”

“Results found. There is slight iron deficiency which may be causing the fatigue…”

“Oh, that is a relief.”

“…but you are also pregnant.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on November 21, 2020, 03:39:32 PM

“I can’t carry all your data
I’ve downloaded your sins
It’s not fair, it wasn’t my idea to let you in
I don’t understand your problems
Or where the glitch begins
It’s not fair, it wasn’t my idea to let you in.”

-KLOUD

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

The statement hangs there almost like a threat.

“How…pregnant?”

“Based on the present hormone levels, approximately two weeks.”

Huh. She had not even realized she missed a period yet which is probably why the prospect never crossed her mind. What the hell did she expect with all the reckless banging and such? Dahlia had always bordered more on the cautious side when it came to sex. It is not like she did not have the thoughts and feelings prior to meeting Barrett but the drama it seemed to cause with her friends made it less appealing. Being desired is one thing but the turbulent emotions that come with the physical act gave her pause. Her siblings did not appear to rush into it either and each had their own designs on a specific romantic interest. Dahlia did not have that outside a passing interest in Kier and, later, tension with Quentin.

Despite the resentment toward Lord Gellar and Lady Masterton, they had actually been quite sex-positive. More so Celeste, obviously, given her profession in mental health. She had candid talks with all of them which she felt gave them the advantage of being well-informed and emotionally prepared. As a result, their approach to sex was slightly more clinical than intended. Dane pursued Alka with the zeal of a typical teenage boy but respected her enough to never cross a line. Consent, Celeste warned them, was an essential piece of the experience. Gemma dreamed about Riley even before she knew who he really was and so their star-crossed pairing was grounded in a genuine but ultimately doomed romance. The fact that all Four families were derived from one certainly gives their relationship a boost in the creep-factor department. Dahlia wanted sex to mean something, thinking she might like it a bit more if she fancied the person she slept with. That was not going to happen with a Valor Prep boy so she bided her time. The brutally hot Barrett came along and, despite his rigidness elsewhere, proved her theory correct. She loves being intimate with him. Okay, so maybe the thought of her and Quentin had crossed her mind too. Where Barrett is principled and dutiful, Quentin is brazen and devious. There is something inherently sexy about being bad but she made her choice and she is team-Barrett.

Pregnant. Fuck. She curses herself for being so irresponsible. Neither of them had even gone near the subject of children, not with this much going on. Besides, they are in the midst of a secret Imperial coup that would destroy the Republic and grant them both power to reshape the galaxy in their images.

The way it was apparently intended.

“Wait,” she says, glaring at the droid. “Where does this information go?”

“It remains in my internal storage before it is uploaded to the medical records system at the end of the day.”

She calls the saber to her hand, igniting it and slashing the droid to pieces.

“Fantastic. You have been so very helpful.”

With Barrett racing toward Chandaar, she takes a few days to consider things. He would be swamped with a myriad of issues in the Senate. She is not going to get less pregnant so she may as well reason out the options here. To be honest, she never really thought about being a parent. It was, perhaps, a distant and immaterial prospect often shattered by her selfishness before it ever became anything more. Having a child just seems so…inconvenient. Children, from what she understands, are sticky and annoying. Not exactly an image she sees herself enjoying. Then again, furthering their legacy could have its perks. The kid was bound to be gorgeous, genetically speaking, so that is something.

But is it enough?

She wanders the corridors of the Citadel in her mask, fitted armor, and matching cape as she mulls over what to do. Her feelings begin to give way to the reality of their situation and the prophecy looming over everything. Each of them plays a role but she does not believe it explicitly states which of The Four gets knocked up. It did use some creative language from what she can recall – baptized by the Force or some shit, the power to give back what others took away. There was something else, something even more jarring.

Emperor takes Empress and together they will rule eternally so long as the child does not live

That has to be bullshit, she thinks. Another trick up her father’s sleeve. There would be no way the Voss-Ra could have known with such accuracy although it is only a one-in-four chance. Prophesies are more about the interpretation and not meant to be instruction manuals. There are thematic elements and situations one could manipulate. Alexander Winton sure did to surprising results. He had each character pegged and prone to suggestion, moving them across the board until all that remained were those that could make-or-break it. Ultimately, Karen lost the crown but gained her soul or something. Whatever. She is not going to make that mistake again and was nearly absolved of having to deal with it at all in Gemma’s supposed death. Barrett may have doused that victory celebration but at least she has always known Gemma is full of it. The pregnancy in the context of the prophecy skews everything.

Could they still rule if she was the one having the child?

Princess Dahlia capitalizes on this question throughout Erinbol’s ongoing training. After each session, they would spend time meditating. The dark energy of Byss made this an otherworldly experience but she manages to subtly engage him about different elements of the prophecy. Erinbol is an expert at deflection which is why she opts to probe him for his understanding and not the Voss-Ra’s motive or philosophy. Not that she is not dying to know but that is not going to get her to what she wants to know. When they broach the subject of the child, he does not mince words.

“The child is the gambit. It leads to a choice – protect the child or sacrifice it. It is an offering the Sith demand in order to rise again.”

Cool, cool. The child is the second part of the winning formula. It must die and the Winton must live in order to fulfill the prophecy. She has heard and seen how the media framed the last Four. They were either sinners, saviors, or sacrifices. That makes things pretty fucking clear. She has traded places with a frightened and likely fashionably styled Kimber. Many people died trying to protect the Patten child and his survival started a new cycle. This bitch finds herself in a rather cringey conundrum. So, what does Princess Dahlia want more – the future the child represents or the future meant for her rule?

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on January 19, 2021, 08:06:35 PM

“Now it’s spinning out, all I want is to control it
I try to keep it down, put it in my hands and hold it."

-Molly Burch

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Imperial Citadel

Princess Dahlia spends the next several days living what feels like three separate lives.

In the first life, she lives in training with Darth Erinbol who seems consumed with preparing her for the fight to come. Zero context, just slay all day. His devotion to fulfilling the prophecy hedges a bit close to fanatical for her tastes but there is no denying the vast progression in strength and ability. Props to his slave-driving for giving her the greatest control over her powers. The second is lived trying to engage Inquisitor Involis, the familial twist she never saw coming. Even in their sparring, he seems curious but restrained. He is formidable with a saber but lacks her agility. No wonder with that hulking armor slick as it may be. Until the last day or so, the conversation had been less than productive but he is starting to come around. The difference in age does hinder their efforts to connect. She feels there is something more like he does not quite know what to do with the reality of her. That pesky cousin who gets to claim the throne and resurrect the Sith. Lucky him. The third is lived wandering the corridors in her mask and cape as the Emperor’s new Sith enforcer, Darth D’Cera, searching for Schrag’s legacy gene experiment while silently deliberating what to do about her pregnancy. Also, not something she saw coming. It is a lot to process but whatever passes the time. The baby thing casts an uncertain shadow over everything. She only spoke briefly with Barrett when he arrived at Chandaar but this is not the kind of chat you have over the com. If she even wants to have it at all.

She has to laugh. One crisis at a time, bitch.

For now, she would try to pry into the Inquisitor's past and make headway with the legacy gene threat. She and Seif frequently dine together, sometimes with Erinbol, but mostly without and so she aims that witty banter at his considerable emotional defenses. She catches sight of the piece of the Etheralis, shimmering deep emerald green, as he approaches. He notices and runs a gloved hand across the transparent casing, setting the mask down on the table. Hers also rests beside her, almost like its own dinner companion. He eases into a chair with beams of overhead light refracting off the artifact.

“It would make a fantastic pendant. Something bold. A statement piece.”

He does not bother to hide the incredulity on his face, “This is part of an ancient Sith artifact granting untold powers to those to wield it. It is not meant to be made into…jewelry.”

“Says you,” she says with a scrunched sneer. “Are you always this uptight?”

“Are you always this shallow?”

“Yes, but mostly for show. People are so easily distracted by stupidity. They never see the threat when they are too busy not taking you seriously. I asked you first.”

“Clever if not completely trite. I am focused on what must happen in order for us to succeed.”

“Perhaps a little too much. There is nothing that says we cannot have a little fun along the way. Otherwise, what is the point? You are the first biological family I have ever met.”

“The Four spawned from one so that is technically untrue.”

“You know what I mean. I never met my parents so this is kind of a big deal.”

“I never met mine either.”

“Well, look at us having shared childhood trauma. Did this impact the rest of your life or were able to shrug it off like a champ? I suppose this makes us stronger, more colorful contributors to the galaxy.”

He regards her curiously, unsure where this is headed but drawn to the comradery.

“One could say there were repercussions. Did your mother at least know you were alive when you were separated? Mine did not, or so I was told. It seems we were both raised in realities fabricated by others.”

“Ouch. Apparently, mine did but handed me off to Celeste Masterton to spite my father. I sure hope you gave the Voss-Ra hell for their role in your stunted childhood.”

“Who says it was stunted? I was well cared for on Empress Teta and performed my duties as expected. Their methods may be unorthodox but I have always had a purpose. Not many can say the same. You seem to have done alright for yourself.”

“Sure, after I was kidnapped, tortured, and forced into a game I never agreed to play. What the hell were you doing all this time, chilling on the sidelines while Alexia slowly slashed her way through Karen’s friends and allies? Not exactly showing the team spirit, cous. If this is all some predestined performance trying to nail the landing, and you are supposed to be the ‘beast’ in this incarnation, then I am supposed to defeat you and consume your rage. So it is written. That is what you said.”

Seif cocks his head to the side, “It is and you did.”

“Did I?”

“On Hesperidium. Defeat does not necessarily mean death. This is a prophecy and prophecy is about tactful interpretation. It was your power that activated the Etheralis and teleported us to the surface of Coruscant. You bested me and could have struck a killing blow with your saber. As for my rage, you now fully understand your purpose and what is at stake here. For the Sith to rise, you must fulfill the prophecy. You must succeed where all other Winton’s failed.”

Although this may technically check these boxes in the prophecy, there is a chance he could be manipulating them. Is Barrett right? Dahlia is still deciding, unsure of where his loyalties actually lie. She leans into finding out.

“No pressure or anything,” she sighs, helping herself to a second serving of greens. “This is not the time for withholding, especially if you do not want to wind up repeating this all over again with some other spoiled brat you can barely stand.”

Something resembling a smile creeps onto his face.

“I do not know you, Princess Dahlia. Family or not. You are like…a construct. Much like your sisters. Real only in the context of the prophecy. Characters acting out their parts.”

“No one is acting, Seif. This is very real.”

“Then might I suggest you behave accordingly?”

She inhales sharply, glaring intensely across the table.

“I have done everything asked of me and more including the perpetuation of the lie that I died in the Bolerathon Tower. Former Speaker Apteen and current Speaker Leeds would not have gone down this dark path if it was not for me. Without my access and intervention, there would be no truce nor would the Empire be in a position to leverage the Republic’s disorganization and tyrannical leanings in our favor. So, you can save the sass, darling. I have done my part which brings me back to you.”

“What about me? I take it you have your theories. So please, indulge me. Tell me what you think you know.”

“You expect us to believe you do not want the throne for yourself? Barrett was correct when he said the “beast” of the prophecy covets what the daughter of darkness has. Alexia’s jealousy combined with her connection to the Force drove her mad and she exacted her revenge on all that sought to elevate Karen to the throne. I have not decided on whether or not you would do the same."

Seif takes a few bites in silence, reflecting on her targeted verbal assault. He had often wondered what it would be like to engage his family in a meaningful way. Now he knows it is as dramatic and irritating as he imagined it would be.

“You are missing one critical piece in that theory, your Highness. Alexia was intentionally misled and manipulated. This was your father’s doing, not the Voss-Ra. He - to put it in terms you will understand - went off-script entirely for self-interest. She had been made to believe that she was the one the prophecy spoke of. Those expectations were set, an amazing future in power built up in her mind. When those expectations turned out to be untrue, well, we all know what happened next.”

He gives the information a moment to land before continuing.

“I had no such allusions of my role. In fact, I never knew if I would be called to play the part at all. I was content as an Inquisitor, hunting down the Jedi as they scattered to the furthest corners of the galaxy. It is what I was raised to be – a great hunter and warrior – but those plans changed when your sister failed. My path was diverted toward your own. So it is written, that much is true, but if you think you are on the only one who was forced into a game you did not wish to play, think again.”

There is a tinge of bitterness to his tone.

Seif watched his cousin's power struggle for years. When Karen defeated Alexia, as was foretold, he thought he was off the hook. Secretly, he was relieved not to have to play the part of the Beast. Alexia’s instability made her much better suited for it. The fact that they could so easily substitute one antagonist for another enraged him but he never shared this with the Voss-Ra. Not after everything they taught him, gave him, he thinks as he touches the Etheralis' casing again. Their belief is much too deep to be swayed. Alexia was meant to be the foil to everything Karen stood for. She nearly took everything from her but the precious Four survived the tribulation that followed. That is, until their pinned hopes on Karen that their cherished abomination would emerge victorious collapsed with the implosion of Centerpoint Station.

So began the new cycle and he was up.

The new Four were initially problematic as the Voss-Ra elders saw their potential to restore order and bring peace. The Gellar-Masterton’s were trying to atone for the sins of the past. This guidance could undo what those that came before them had done. If that were to happen, the Winton may never triumph over the others and bring about the return of the Sith. Once they were targeted in the Corporate Sector and Corellia, he was called to work with the Empire after the Jedi’s expulsion from Chandaar. Biding his time brought them closer to his orbit as they grew. He engaged with Gemma first, believing she would eventually lead him back to Dahlia. Killing her, or any of the others would put the Winton one step closer but Masterton proved more resourceful than he anticipated. That was his mistake. Instead, he turned his attention to the Winton and aimed to test her powers the way Karen’s were tested at Contruum. Much like her sister, Dahlia did not disappoint. She had the potential and the power but no one was really sure which way she would go. Despite her fall to the dark side, she remains more honorable than the Voss-Ra prefers but the lure of destiny proved too powerful and she is exactly where she needs to be – poised to rise and bring about the return of the Sith. He just needs her to stay the course.

Dahlia bristles, “I did not know that which is why I asked.”

“More like accused.”

“The scenic route is often more enlightening. It also gives you depth. Context is important here so I appreciate your perspective. Speaking of ventures of self-interest, are you aware the dearly departed Emperor had plans similar to those of my father?”

“I have a very specific function in this regime. Our professional relationship seldom included intimate details outside of how my missions aided in regaining galactic power.”

“That is not a no,” she quips evenly, dropping a hand so that her fingers caress the saber clipped to a chunky black belt. “In the spirit of sharing, let us try that again. What do you know of Schrag’s plans to scientifically circumvent a successor?"

He laughs, “Clearly not as much as you do. Like I said, I was merely a tool in his arsenal. If you are looking for answers, you will need a source closer than I ever was.”

“I am open to suggestions.”

“Suggestion is exactly what piqued their interest in the first place. I am surprised Erinbol did not tell you.”

“Yeah, well, he is not one for the hot gossip. If you want me to fulfill anything, you better step up. Or else.”

“I see we have moved from accusations to threats. Or else what?”

She leans forward and speaks lowly in a near hiss, “Or else this little prophecy will be unraveled by the same schemes as before. The “beast” is not the only one who may come to covet the prophecy outcome. One can see how even whispers of a Winton ascension may be…divisive. Schrag was never going to take chances with me in the mix. He planned for his demise much the same way my father did. They both wanted to reap the rewards of their efforts just in different ways. Absolute power or whatever. Is that what the Voss-Ra would really want? What you really want, a path that always leads to us? Schrag had a strategy alright and a part of that meant being the once and future Emperor. Like, forever.”

As much as he hates to admit it, she makes a compelling point. Her curated skills are now enough to even back up the threat with force. Eliminating unknown variables would be crucial to the prophecy. After all the faith and work the Voss-Ra have dedicated to its execution, the countless lives lost to it, this cycle must be the last. That is what he swore to them when they called on him. Snobbish as she may be, they must work together.

“Then you seek the agents of experimentation. If anyone would know, it is them.”

There is a fiery glint in Dahlia’s eyes.

“Tell me.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on March 05, 2021, 08:05:54 PM

“Now we’re too far gone
But maybe you knew all along.”

-Moses Boyd & Katy B

Byss: Imperial Capital

They make quite the duo storming through the Citadel.

Inquisitor Involis is concealed in hulking armor surrounded by the emerald aura of the Etheralis fragment while the petite Sith Enforcer, Darth D’Cera, struts her shit from behind the blank mask, flowing cape, and black, knee-high heeled boots. Being an agent of evil does not have to mean being sloppy. Sentient beings and droids alike practically throw themselves out of their way in terror. Seif only knew of their targets by reputation so there was not much to tell but that did not prevent them from setting out to find them with haste. It is a mission to make sure all this effort does not go to waste, derailed by yet another powerful man using things foretold in his undeserved favor. They have both the Emperor’s authorization and intimidation on their side which is why no one hesitates to give them the answers they need.

Deep within the bowels of the Citadel, the petrifying pair burst into a lab filled with active monitors, crudely written hypotheses, and what they can assume are equally illegible conclusions on large, rectangular boards. There are two inhabitants who rise from their work to acknowledge them but strangely do not appear in the least surprised. Their expressions are so stoic that it fosters a sense of anticlimax and disappointment. Dahlia sighs.

“We, like, stormed your secret lab and that’s it? That’s all we get?”

“Well yes,” the one closest to them says. “We have been expecting you, Darth D’Cera.”

The other nods, “Surprised it took you this long if we are being completely honest. I am Max and this is Xam but you already know that. Otherwise, you would not be here.”

Neither she nor Seif knows where their loyalty truly lies but, if Dahlia had to guess, they served Schrag faithfully from the confines of this dank place. It is unlikely they would give up his secrets easily, especially if it involves plotting survival beyond his potential death. They both look batshit crazy so chances are they do not get out much. With the Inquisitor looming silently behind her, she decides to keep them on the defensive.

“Is that so?” she counters, voice tinged with a rigid menace through the mask. “Then, by all means, tell us since you seem intent to presume motive for our presence.”

Xam throws Max a look that suggests they played the wrong hand, shifting toward a more suitable answer.

“My apologies. The Emperor no doubt sent you to verify our findings.”

She moves deeper into the lab, running her gloved finger along a narrow table filled with gadgets and models, “Among other things."

Max nods nervously and turns to a set of monitors with vitals streaming across the screens. As she nears, Dahlia reads the name in the top left corner of one screen: Cavanaugh. Well, shit. Yet another thing she was not expecting, facing down another misdeed. Quinn, Muriel; Dahlia has not exactly been the greatest friend. She hates herself for thinking it but Adubell may not have been entirely wrong about her.

“Of course. We now have two high-profile assets in the Republic capital.”

Two?

The second monitor also holds the same name. Kinsa. Wonder how they pulled that off. Did Quentin do the deed or did they make a mind-controlled Quinn turn on her own sister? Yikes. This is a path she set them on when she accepted the serum from Ambassador Pallus in exchange for a sample of Dane’s genetic material, a sample Schrag went on to use against them. But Seif does not know that. Or does he? Barrett’s words flutter through her head. Despite his assurances and stake in seeing this through, his own motivations may be more complex than he would ever admit.

“He will be pleased to hear it. Any further details his Highness should be aware of?”

“Oh, yes,” Xam says flatly, turning to a spinning hologram of a human brain. “The stability is remarkable with some impressive results. You see, the nanotechnology within the ICS allows us to imprint the assets with whatever we please. Whether it be a missionary or murderer, we make them what they need to be. They now have a default threat response, one of a survivalist and efficient killer, as we discovered the adaptive nature of the technology. Gellar's product was actually learning how to keep them safe, activating those same responses without our intervention. They still possess their own personalities, which are dominant when not engaged, but the missions leave them with holes in their memories. Blank spots where they have actual deniability for their actions. There are cognitive and emotional risks with this approach but otherwise, they are the perfect plants, beautiful and well-connected. Exactly as the Emperor had intended. It is only a shame the Winton royal did not survive long enough to see these results.”

A quiet horror builds within her, “And why is that?”

A dark glee pulls at the corner of Max’s mouth, “She was to be the final product, of course. The goal of the entire program – the most dangerous member of The Four entirely under Imperial control.”

Dahlia is almost flattered but she can feel the weight of Seif’s gaze behind all that armor waiting for her to react. If she had been dosed with a perfected Imperial Control Serum, Schrag would have not only had her but, by extension, Barrett under his thumb. He was planning on using her as both a weapon and leverage. What. An. Asshole. She could cut them both down with her saber. Scatter their appendages across this lab, rendering them a permanent part of the scientific clutter. Make them pay for crimes Barrett already punished Schrag for, intentionally or not. Maybe it’s the effects of being on Byss but the thought of bloodshed excites her. She has a few issues she needs to work out. Instead, she reaches for mindfulness that does not often suit her, knowing that without Max and Xam both Kinsa and Quinn may not be of any use to them. She could not jeopardize Barrett that way, not while he was navigating the delicate politics of the truce.

“A shame indeed. I am certain we will make the most of it.”

“To wonderous effect. The Republic is crumbling before our very eyes.”

She considers this when the Inquisitor stirs.

“What of the contingency? Surely he does not need it with the princess dead.”

“The contingency…” Xam says, trailing off. “We do not know what you speak of, Inquisitor Involis. Forgive us."

“Of course,” he says, turning to her. “Shall we?”

“Absolutely. Thank you both. Be assured you have the Emperor’s deepest gratitude for your progress here. I will ensure you are both commended for it. Now, let us bring the Republic to its knees.”

There is a flicker of emotion across their faces a she turns and strides out of the lab with the Inquisitor following closely behind. They walk together in silence, winding their way back through the gothic corridors. Once they are within their exclusive corner of the Citadel, he speaks again.

"I trust you got it."

“Lifted it from their minds the moment you engaged them.”

“And?”

She pulls the mask off her head, crimson hair spilling down across a sinister smile.

“We find our answers on Prakith.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on April 22, 2021, 09:13:03 PM

“Don’t say a word while we dance with the devil
You brought a fire to a world so cold
We’re out of time on a highway to never
Hold on (hold on), hold on (hold on)."

-Duke Dumont

Prakith

After a twisting bent through the Byss run, Imperial Inquisitor Involis and Darth D’Cera flare out of hyperspace above the volcanic fortress world. Its pulsing glow seems to beckon them deeper into their dangerous plan. If Schrag’s minions unlock the powerful secrets of the legacy gene this whole thing could go up in flames. They need to make damn sure that does not happen. Dahlia returns to the cockpit of Seif’s imposing Delta-class shuttle with her hair neatly pulled back and dark, freshly glossed lips. His incredulity is never subtle. Not when it comes to her.

“Did you…get ready?”

She admires her reflection in the blank surface of her mask, “Let us not pretend this shocks you.”

He groans, turning back to the controls.

“I suppose not. Practicality is not exactly your focus.”

“Says the hulking mass of armor. How does it look down there anyway?”

“Cavernous,” he says flatly.

“I figured. So, the Asonel Caves – you know where they are, right?”

“I do but that is not where we are headed.”

“Oh? Pretty sure that’s the intel I lifted from those deranged scientists but if you know a quaint bistro owned by a fine purveyor of artisanal fare fire-roasted in a local volcano then, by all means, let’s hit it up.”

Ignoring the tedious barrage of sarcasm, he smiles thinly, “Have you heard of the Citadel Inquisitorius?”

“Until relatively recently, no one told me shit. So, no. Besides, the Corporate Sector is a long way from the Deep Core and its many secrets.”

“True but those far closer may only believe it exists due to its reputation. It is where they sent me when I came of age. Where I trained under other Inquisitors. Where I interrogated my first Jedi. While we may have served each Emperor faithfully, in our own ways, the Voss-Ra’s mission was never far from my mind. Restoring the Sith to power kept me going. It is my purpose so forgive me if I take this more seriously than you seem to be. The Asonel Caves are vast and treacherous. We will make a stop at the Citadel to see if we can learn more before charging into the unknown. Can you, how do you say, deal with it?”

Hilarious, she thinks, but his motives are always going to be slightly suspect. The freewheeling insanity of her family saga had given her a complex about it. Their goals may be aligned for the moment but she would be foolish to think that would always be so. Dahlia absently runs a gloved hand across her stomach as she stares out across the weaving, jagged canyons below. With the outcome falling to her, there is a lot more at stake so she tries to strike a balance with a neutral tone.

“Unlikely but I will give it a go. This is like a homecoming of sorts for you then?”

“In a way.”

She slides into the chair beside him. The piece of the Etheralis in his armor grows brighter with her presence, drawing her eyes to it.

“That would have been helpful to know sooner but I will defer to your topographical expertise. By the way, which one did you like more? I am dying to know.”

“Which what?”

“Emperor! You served at least two in your lifetime.”

“Loyalty does not always mean like. At least in the way you mean. Dementat’s goals aligned more closely with the Voss-Ra. Not that he was aware of such things. He had a brash and brooding charm, something people like your sisters found irresistible. Barrett has many of those same qualities which is why he serves the same function in the prophecy. Schrag was a Grand Admiral under Dementat first before taking the throne and he was on the command ship when the young Emperor departed to follow his lover to the grave. He believed him foolish in this way which explains his protective nature around Barrett and…apprehension toward you.”

Appalled at the generalization, she sneers, “He planned on pumping me full of my adoptive father’s mind-control serum and using me to blackmail my boyfriend into submission for the sake of Imperial conquest. Pressed for time, he ordered Barrett to kill me as some kind of sick test. That is not apprehension, that is an obsession and, well yeah, obviously but still. Not cool.”

“It no longer matters. He is gone. They both are. Dementat at least had imagination, saw the potential in the rising of the Sith, but he failed to realize the part he had to play in time. They were so close and still fell so short.”

“A heads up probably would have helped. Operating in the dark is not as easy as you all make it sound.”

“He would not have believed it. None of the principal players would have. It is only because elements of the prophecy leaked in that Corellian reporters’ story after the last cycle that any of you are even aware of it. You would have been operating in the same space all your predecessors were – with just enough information and intrigue to nudge events forward. The Voss-Ra believe in only minor intervention when necessary.”

“Minor interference is still interference. Is it really a win if you rig the outcome from the start?”

“Patience is a finite resource, Princess Dahlia, and I am approaching the edges of mine.”

“Fine, I get it. Thank you for the frightening context. Now, take me to your creepy little Inquizzy clubhouse or whatever.”

The Citadel Inquisitorius comes into view. Hard to miss it, actually, as it is even more imposing than the Emperor’s Citadel on Byss. Intentionally so. Whoever designed the tower clearly had a field day with their dark vision. Involis lands the shuttle at the end of a long, obsidian platform, wings folded up neatly above them in an ominous prayer. He glances over at her as she slides on the mask.

“What?”

“I wonder what they will make of you.”

“Guess we will see.”

The walkway is diminished by the tower as they both approach in a way she imagines slightly cinematic, all slow-motion hip sways and imposing swagger. He takes the lead, it is his turf after all, but she stays close. Something about this place gives her the major creeps. His freedom hinges on her survival so she has no doubt he will protect her here. At least for now. Inside, they are approached by two others dressed in nuanced shades of gray. Fitting, she notes. They exchange greetings with Involis. The first introduces himself as Inquisitor Allom and the other, Inquisitor Feraas. Involis introduces her but they seem to take offense to her presence, registering as a nauseating ripple through the Force. They feel threatened, insulted he would bring a lesser being before them.

And she is not here for it.

Princess Dahlia strikes first, violently Force pushing them away while calling both of their sabers to her hands. She ignites and crosses them slowly in front of one another for dramatic effect. They did not anticipate her attack and neither did Involis but the jarring nature of the action gives her a more compelling edge. Her voice, while still feminine, is lower, almost throaty, with a tinge of digitized crackle beneath the mask as she executes the threat with crisp annunciation.

“You dare speak to me in such a way? I am not here to play your mind games Inquisitors but, if you insist, I will remove them from your skulls and show you exactly how much fun they can be.”

They rise, incensed but unharmed.

“As I was saying,” Involis continues. “May I present D’Cera.”

“We have heard this name,” Allom says, dusting off his robe.

Faraas nods, “An adept fighter if the Sith advisors in the capital are to be believed.”

“She is one of the Emperor’s most trusted enforcers,” Involis explains, crafting the narrative they agreed on. “We were sent to assess progress on an Imperial project and require Citadel resources to begin our investigation. D’Cera has the full authority of the Emperor behind her.”

This resonates and they acquiesce but approach her cautiously. Their fear of Schrag must outweigh their reservations which work in their favor. She deactivates and returns their weapons and Allom leans forward as he accepts his.

"Anything you need will be at your disposal.”

“Excellent. What of the hunt for the Jedi? Is that not what you do?”

“It is, Darth D’Cera. Most who managed to survive have been driven into Wild Space. Few remain across the mid and outer rim, a handful on Lur that were dealt with, which just leaves Corellia.”

“Corellia?” Dahlia’s interest is definitely piqued.

“An alleged safe haven for the Jedi with a noticeable uptick in incoming traffic over the past month. We have been monitoring all channels across the Republic with well-placed sources confirming Senate leadership has pinned these defiant conspiracies on the Corellian Senator in conjunction with sector agencies. It is well within Republic borders but not yet reinforced by the Imperial navy. If the Ambassador to the Republic can negotiate our assistance, then we would have a way in to ascertain these allegations for ourselves and deal with them…accordingly. Either way, the end of the Jedi is nigh.”

“The Inquisitorius is always happy to oblige.”

They arrive at the repository and Faraas turns.

“Once we have learned all we can, of course. Access to the remains of the Centerpoint Station could prove to be most enlightening. We will leave you to it.”

Dahlia considers their words, watching them drift into the distance of the imposing architecture. Dementat died at Centerpoint as did a version of her father and three of the last Four. If Imperial capital ships provide cover for the Inquisitors to slip inside Corellia’s borders, Gemma and her little band of boneheads are not long for these worlds. This may actually work out after all. Her stomach grumbles in protest. Well, that part at least. They still have quite a way to go before anyone is awkwardly doing a victory jive. They enter the repository and Involis gets right to work. He is comfortable with the tools, using Citadel tech to pull up a hologram of the Asonel Caves region.

“What are you looking for specifically?”

“Energy signatures. An operation on that scale would require a lot of power which must be separated from the myriad of signatures from naturally occurring geothermal activity in the cave system.”

He identifies three possibilities and begins to eliminate each of them through activity in the area over the course of the past year. If Schrag was getting nervous about Dahlia, he would likely have increased his efforts to counter any moves she might make through Barrett.

“There,” he says, pulling the image closer to narrow in on a patch of caves lit in yellow.

She does not know what she is looking at but, left with few other options, she is going to have to trust him. Due to the unstable terrain, they would take one of the Inquisitor’s air speeders. It is a sleek transport that Involis guides expertly through the uneven canyons. She is pretty sure they are going to die but somehow, he prevents them from clipping the various serrated outcroppings along the way. He parks the air speeder in front of a misshapen opening, reviewing a miniaturized version of the map on a small holoprojector. She climbs out, kicking away a few stray rocks with her chunky heeled boot.

“Rather unassuming, no?”

“What did you expect? A sign welcoming us to the genetic freakshow?”

D’Cera shrugs, “Schrag never had that kind of style.”

“No, he was a man of considerable substance.”

“Past tense. Remember that. My patience has limits too.”

“Right. Shall we?”

They approach the mouth of the cave with sabers in hand. Behind them, the skyline of Prak City appears like the open jaws of a predator from the nearby plateau. The symbolism is not lost on either of them. He explained on the ride over that the caves were old lava tubes but, after the mining boom stripped them of their gemstones, it was left a hazardous nightmare. The perfect place for a secret lab as visitors seldom ventured in. Holding the small holoprojector in his armored palm, Involis leads the way. They traverse the winding path for nearly ten minutes before sloping down and into a larger cavern. She senses it the same time he does, igniting their sabers to deflect the first wave of blasts while falling back to defensive positions behind the tapered stalagmites. It is difficult to see but, using the advanced technology within her mask, she identifies the source; two Royal Guards, likely selected and assigned by Schrag himself. They do not wait for the intruders to respond and advance toward them firing with lethal efficiency.

As their cover disintegrates beneath the onslaught, they are forced to separate and disappear into the darkness of the caves.

-TBD

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on June 14, 2021, 09:24:05 PM

“A sort of stoned silence
Sat on that boat floating out
The waters left me open
All my emotions fog my lenses
Trusting in a stranger
There’s nowhere to run, enjoy it
It’s all about the here and now
Illuminate the darkness.”

-Morcheeba

Prakith

Surface: Asonel Caves

The attack is swift and brutal, forcing Dahlia into a defensive escape plan she had yet to erect let alone execute.

Even pausing for a microsecond brings another volley of blaster fire. The Royal Guards have a significant home-field advantage. The uneven surface beneath her is challenging to navigate in the heeled boots but she is not about to admit Seif was right about that. She taps off her saber and the firing ceases momentarily. No need to give them a blazing visual cue of her location. Dahlia would be dead for sure without the enhancements from her gifted mask, assessing and optimizing the terrain and best path forward right before her eyes. No doubt the Royal Guards have been outfitted with something similar so she does not waste time celebrating. Keeping low, she darts between the bulbous and asymmetrical stalagmites while keeping watch for the advancing enemy.

Pausing behind one of the larger organic pillars, she clasps her fingers around the hilt of the saber and draws on the Force to feel out her surroundings. There is a vibrancy to the cave but she works to peel back the noise until it lands. There. The Royal Guard stalking toward her position, weapon trained and ready. He draws nearer still until he is just behind her. Igniting the saber as she steps out and turns, Dahlia slashes through the stalagmite and the Guard’s weapon. He reacts quickly, tossing it aside and kicking a chunk of the crumbling pillar to knock her back against the cave wall. Her saber hits the ground and winks out. The advance is ruthless and it is very clear their orders were to slay anyone who dare visited here. Their hand-to-hand is fairly evenly matched, thanks to her training, but he knows these caves better than she ever will. He catches what would have been a solid blow to the head, twisting her arm around, and uses the momentum to wrap her fully around the column before sending her tumbling back across the ground.

Dazed with pain searing through her chest and abdomen, she rolls away just as he slams a heavy boot next to where her head had just been. Adrenaline pulsing through her, Dahlia pulls her shit together and springs upward to engage him directly. She twists tightly around a punch from him, smashing an elbow into his own mask which snaps his head back before spinning behind him to land a crushing kick behind his left knee. His muffled cry only emboldens her and she calls the saber to her hand and ignites it, time slowing before them. There is a flicker of the saber reflected in that mask and she knows, just behind it, he understands what is coming. And she delivers, bisecting him with exquisite precision. The charge is indescribably thrilling. A dangerous delicious.

The Inquisitor emerges from the darkness beyond with a mild limp but no worse for wear. She is still riding the exhilaration of the fight but finds herself pleasantly surprised.

“Oh good, you are not dead.”

"You sound disappointed.”

“Maybe a little.”

“Touching. After you.”

“Well,” she says, setting off as the body aches and battle damage begins to set in. “We sure as hell did not come all this way for nothing.”

Their sabers light the way and predictably come to a set of locked double doors. They make quick work of it, using the combined powers of their weapons to weaken it and the Force to pull them apart to step between them. Inside, a scientific horror show awaits – the former and present Emperor Schrag’s attempt at unlocking the secrets of the legacy gene Dahlia secured for him from the source – Dane Gellar. No expense was spared, apparently, as the cloning chambers and corresponding equipment are all high quality and in pristine condition. This was a priority. There are two short rows containing a series of Schrag clones floating peacefully in stasis with the closest one dark, body decaying within.

“That’s...strange.”

“You don’t say.”

“Schrag likely had a trigger, something to awaken the next body. The one apparently keyed up to replace him failed but others did not follow the succession."

"Lucky break?”

“Not quite,” he says, motioning to the severed wires and tubes that were once connected to the tank. “This was deliberate.”

“Ominous and unexpected but I say we take the win.”

“The saboteurs may still be nearby.”

Wonderful, she thinks, glancing around. He continues weaving between the tanks, searching for any other signs of foul play that may put them in danger. If someone had beat them to it, they may have laid a trap. She grimaces beneath the mask, stomach-churning in the aftermath of the altercation. She may not be as untouchable as she fancies herself but it is beside the point and so she checks out the rest of the lab with him but finds nothing that would indicate imminent danger. No secret collaborators waiting in the wings.

“The area may be clear but it does not explain how this happened.”

“One of the Voss-Ra could have easily transformed into Schrag and paid them a visit. For appearance's sake to pull the literal plug. You know how they roll. They must have known the clones would come into play soon.”

“But they could not know what choice Barrett would make. Or which clone was slated to come online first.”

“They are shape-shifting sorcerers! Surely, they could have conjured up some kind of precognition or inkling of the future in those dark magics. How do you think they managed to nudge everything along all this time? It was not their aesthetic; I’ll tell you that. They have power and connections honed over Maker knows how long.”

The helmet turns his sigh into a monstrous tune, “That is one theory. You know, just because they pulled off the cloning process does not mean they perfected working with the legacy gene. The way I was told, Gellar’s genetics gave life where none previously existed, creating an immortal sentient being that threatened the very foundation of the prophecy. Built by a Gellar, destroyed by a Gellar."

She motions beyond the tanks to several exoskeletons in various states of assembly strewn across a work table, evidence of mechanical intervention.

“Convenient. Think they were looking to pull off a similar feat?”

“Only one way to find out.”

He shatters one of the tanks and the nude body spills out onto the floor lying motionless at their feet. He ignites his saber and cuts into it, finding only flesh, blood, and bone. No technological terror waiting underneath.

“Looks like Erinbol was right. Schrag was no scientist and even those he had working on this had yet to find a way to replicate whatever process completely and free him of a mortal coil.”

“A silver lining but still suspect. There would be no way to know how long he had even with the Voss-Ra’s mystical insight.”

“You do not know that,” Dahlia counters with an arched brow. “Maybe they only told you what they needed you to know. We both know what kind of a man Schrag was. He planned on having me under the thrall of the Imperial Control Serum which would then be used as leverage to keep Barrett in line and executing his agenda in the Republic. That alone would have bought him quite a bit of time as you worked your way through what was left of the Jedi. Once the Republic finally collapsed and all external threats had been neutralized, he could have kicked back and waited it all out while his eternal replacement was perfected. He would have found a way eventually.”

“But Barrett wised up and chose you over him. Also pretty convenient.”

“With help from the Sith, of course. They are, after all, what this really comes down to. The Winton’s ascension heralds the return of the Sith. So it is written and all that. I am happy to do it, of course, because it means great things for both of us.”

“Us?”

“Come now, cousin. Do you think I would leave you out of the spoils of this long-suffering victory if you help us achieve it? The Voss-Ra took you from your mother and raised you to be a part of their grand plan. You did not have a choice in this and neither did I. Will it not be a relief once that role has been retired? You do not have to play their part forever. Threats will still exist when the Empire swoops in with the great galactic solution and we will need someone to lead that charge. Someone we trust.”

He considers this, uncertain if her statement is a glimpse behind the façade or part of her dark sarcasm. The appeal to position and power, sowing doubt about the Voss-Ra, shows she is not nearly as stupid as she presents. She told him as much but he had not seen it until now. It is tucked ever so neatly beneath the staged superficial veneer.

“How can you be so sure you can trust me? Barrett seems to believe I mean to take this from you both.”

“Trust is something that is built and we have to start somewhere.”

“That might be the most sensible thing I have ever heard you say.”

“So sweet. Now, we have to get rid of it. Of everything.”

“I say we bury this place and get the hell out of here.”

“So here for that.”

They retrieve charges from the shuttle and tactfully place them through the lab and surrounding tunnels that would ensure the place and everything in it would be entombed forever. They stand at the mouth of the cave and detonate, enjoying the growing concussive sounds of each charge destroying Schrag’s failed contingency. Son of a bitch deserves it after the things he had planned. Nice try, loser but they have a bit more perspective than the last bunch. And they would use it to their fullest advantage. With the Voss-Ra disciple as the Emperor's public placeholder, the Imperial throne now lies directly in her and Barrett’s sights.

Victory within reach but there is always a price.

Her stomach convulses to the point where she has to hunch forward, stifling a scream. This is more than a mere battle injury. She brings a hand down to feel the wetness between her legs, leaving traces of red on her glove. Never a good sign. He takes notice as she wipes it away quickly. Not quick enough it seems.

“You are bleeding. Are you injured?”

“Let’s just go.”

“D’Cera-”

“I said let’s go.”

In the shuttle, she pulls off her mask and cleans herself up in the small lavatory as he sets course for Byss. He raps on the door which, with his armored fist, sounds like an arriving thunderstorm.

“Are you okay?”

“Fine.”

“I do not believe you.”

“Never asked you to.”

“Open the door, Dahlia.”

“Go to hell, Seif!”

“I am not leaving until you do.”

"Better get comfortable."

The passing is unpleasant but mercifully short. She finishes cleaning up, staring down into the toilet at the remains of what she imagines was once she and Barrett’s child. It is so tiny - a cluster of stringy tissue - almost insignificant but more emotionally impactful than she allowed herself to believe. Mother fuck. The bloody discharge clouds the water, swirling into a pink abstraction. Dahlia flushes it away, thoroughly rinsing her trembling hands. She charged into that battle without thinking about this particular potential consequence. That in and of itself should have been a sign she was not ready. It was still so early and she was not even sure what she wanted to do about it. Now it has been decided, regardless of her or Barrett’s wishes. Poor B, come and gone without even knowing. Nothing for him to grieve. He never had a family so he does not know what he is losing. Nothing to compare it to. Still, it would be better if he were here. She tucks a large strand of crimson hair behind an ear as she straightens and inhales. The overhead lighting casts her in severe tones but she exhales and tries to carry on.

He is waiting for her on the other side, leaning against the wall with his helmet under one arm.

“You are not fine.”

“No,” she says, unable to conceal the strain in her voice or the sting of tears in those emerald eyes as they search for something, anything, other than his face. “No, I am not.”

The placement of her hands, one gripping the mask and the other curled protectively around her belly, tips the hand. She becomes, at that moment, more than a construct or vessel of the prophecy. Someone he can relate to and empathize with because they are family. Something he gave up on ever having a long, long time ago. It is a fatal mistake many others have made before him, letting their guard down enough to come to care about one of The Four. But this does not stop him from reaching out to touch her shoulder, a gesture of support amidst the emotional gravity of the moment. There are no words and she crumbles forward against his battle-scuffed armor, the glow of the Etheralis nestled within it illuminating her delicate features and breaks down.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on August 18, 2021, 07:21:12 PM

“River
Wash your blood over me
River
Why won’t you wash me clean?
Won’t you wash me clean?”

- PNAU & Ladyhawke

Byss: Imperial Capital

Princess Dahlia bleeds lightly most of the way back.

She is distant and withdrawn, resting on the small bunk with a thin sheet curled around her. Seif checks in occasionally but otherwise leaves her alone. He does not really know what to say. Nothing he considers feels worthy of the loss. He instead spends the journey reflecting on their exchanges as they got to know one another, culminating in the assault on the Asonel Caves. They have come a long way in a short time. A surprise to be sure but Dahlia’s casual quips revealed a breadth of questions he never allowed himself to ask. His path had been so certain yet the similarities between their stories, forged many years apart, have resonated in unexpected ways.

Are family ties really those that bind? He never had a chance to contemplate the answer until now.

They were separated from their mothers and raised by others who created facades around them which now manifests in doubt he never felt before. It is a foreign and uncomfortable state of being and he relies on his years of training to keep those feelings in check. When they land at the Citadel, he becomes Inquisitor Involis once more and helps Darth D’Cera do the same. He guides her back through the winding gothic corridors to the safety of their secluded area where she can just be herself and he something he was never meant to be.

A caretaker.

Seif is a bringer of death and she was quickly working her way onto his list. Once they all got what they wanted, of course. It is not like he does not see it – how easy it would be to betray them; help her take down the remaining three, stage a way for Barrett to be lost in battle, then strike her down after she ascended and the Sith rose. They are not wrong to be wary of him yet Dahlia continues to engage him as a whole person, something more than he was told he could ever be – catalyst, harbinger, symbol. He places her mask on the nightstand and helps her to bed, the piece of the Etheralis growing brighter with their closeness. She smiles thinly, running a finger across the case in the center of his armor, and turns over.

“Thanks, S.”

He steps back quickly, unsettled and uncomfortable, and turns toward the door. The princess is strong and would recover which allows him time to evaluate the larger canvas they find themselves painted on. The Voss-Ra entrusted Seif with a piece of the Etheralis, one of four carved from the artifact before being placed at the center of what is now the newly reformed Coruscant. Her connection to the Force and its power allowed them to create the dark sphere which transported them out of the destruction of the Bolerathon Tower and onto the surface where they laid their trap for the now-slain Emperor Schrag. He knew the potential applications of the Etheralis fragment if exposed to one of The Four, but the results, in reality, were both thrilling and terrifying. It is no wonder these pieces were separated and safeguarded but he had not thought to question where or with whom.

He has one but who has the others?

His faith in the Voss-Ra had been that strong, now shaken by a woman with more red flags than an Imperial propaganda parade. The Sith toy with her and the others. Are they toying with him as well?

Darth Erinbol lurks in the dimly lit corridor as he exits her chamber.

“You both returned safely, I presume.”

“D’Cera was injured but will heal. As will I.”

“The prestige of the Prophecy Persephonea is always paid in blood. What of your mission?”

“It was a success,” Seif says, noting the tragic tinge of specificity to his comment. “Schrag’s machinations threaten the prophecy no longer. We are clear to continue as planned.”

A flicker of what could be construed as pleasure crosses Erinbol’s scarred face, “Excellent. Walk with me.”

He trails the Sith back to the throne room where the Voss-Ra disciple, disguised as Schrag, sits unnervingly still upon the throne. Erinbol bows, as does the Inquisitor, and they continue on to the Sith’s inner sanctum. Appearances, appearances. He approaches a dwindling fire in the center of the room, waving a hand to bring it roaring back. The shadows retreat around them. Seif’s patience begins to deteriorate but he keeps an even tone behind the imposing mask.

“Is there something more you wish to know?”

“Yes, but then again, so do you it seems. I sensed this when you first arrived, a conflict I have felt from many others here but never from you. Tell me, what happened?”

“We found the labs within the caves, courtesy of our resources at the Inquisitorius, but they were guarded by some of Schrag’s most formidable agents. We fought, we conquered, and we destroyed.”

Erinbol stares into the flames, “What did you find there?”

“A series of fully grown genetic clones with evidence of further experimentation,” he says carefully. “None of which appeared to be successful.”

“Is that all?”

“No. We were not the first to discover it but you already know this.”

Finally, he turns to face him, “Do I?”

“You may not have been forthcoming with Dahlia, for obvious reasons, but I am the Voss-Ra’s chosen champion, the Emperor’s Jedi-hunting hand, an integral piece of the prophecy to restore the Sith to power. I will not abide games, Erinbol.”

“As you wish, Inquisitor Involis. Please continue. I am interested in your conclusions.”

“We also discovered evidence that the trigger of his death never went beyond the first clone and we were never really in danger of a true-Schrag reappearing to foil our plans. From the looks of it, he and his agents were not even close to achieving the kind of results with the legacy gene that he hoped and we feared. If this was the case then why encourage us on that trail at all, knowing what could have been lost? If Dahlia were killed the cycle would restart and all of this would have been for nothing. At least, that is my understanding. How am I doing so far?”

“Better than expected,” Erinbol admits. “The goal of seeking out the clones may not have been solely to eliminate them – the Voss-Ra already took those precautions – but to forge a bond between you and Dahlia.”

“A bond? I did not take you for the sentimental type. Well then, how did I fare on your little test?”

“Not so much a test as working out a hypothesis in real-time. You see, when it comes to the prophecy, the relationship between The Beast and Daughter of Darkness had never not been adversarial. The triumph, if it ever got that far, still led to failure. We needed to know what would happen if she defeated you but kept you alive – assuming she did defeat you. It has never been done before. Changing a variable of that magnitude posed a considerable risk for all involved but was deemed…critical on the pathway to fulfillment in this cycle given the failures of the past. Something needed to change in order to change the outcome. You are what needed to change.”

“I could have killed her,” Seif counters warningly. “Probing the limits of Dahlia’s power was only my secondary directive. Perishing in the pursuit of eliminating Gemma Masterton, Riley Patten, and Dane Gellar was considered acceptable collateral for the mission. Or, at least that is what you allowed Schrag to believe. I cannot tell if you had more faith in her or less faith in me. Either way, you gambled the entire future of the Sith on chance.”

“Not chance. Strategic risk cultivated over a longer period of time than you even realize. The Voss-Ra would not have made this recommendation without certainty it had a fair chance of success. Their trust in you is profound, to say the least. The Beast had always perished for The Daughter of Darkness to thrive – most recently, Alexia Winton. Although she was more difficult to kill than previous incarnations, she was still buried by the Daughter’s hand. You already reinterpreted the meaning of “slay” when the princess pressed you about it, as the Voss-Ra had instructed.”

“She needed context to better understand her role.”

“You did as well, once upon a time. As I recall, you were not keen on taking up the mantle of The Beast. Such is the fickle nature of prophecy. We are in service of something much greater than ourselves. As I told Barrett, this was not as specific as others were led to believe. Slay, in certain contexts, can mean to impress and Dahlia certainly did with her display of power and strength. She was underestimated on multiple fronts and bested you in combat, only for you to sway her to the cause with your connection. Circumstance required further evaluation and interpretation but the core tenants of the prophecy, around which the Voss-Ra built their philosophy, remain the same.”

“The Crimson Covenant.”

“Yes. This grew from the belief that one of the four descendants of Persephone held the power to restore the Sith. One that, over time, came to identify the Winton as the key component of that philosophy. Each cycle uncovered more knowledge about their unique abilities and contributions toward this outcome. Gellar and Patten were eventually ruled out, leaving Masterton and Winton as the viable alternatives. The daughters of darkness and light. Not every cycle aligned in this way but those that did were observed carefully for compromising trends.”

“And what did everyone surmise from these observations?”

“The Daughter of Light is and always has been operating on targeted disinformation often spurred by a kind of delusional, counter-productive self-righteousness so often associated with the Jedi. The Touchstones fall along respective faction lines, the embodiment of tyrant and idealist. It was The Daughter of Darkness’ approach to The Beast that was considered the most promising opportunity to leverage.”

“You risked our safety and the outcome of the prophecy on something with only a fair chance of success? The Voss-Ra are patient to a fault but they are not careless. Not when it comes to this.”

Erinbol draws his hands together in the folds of the neutral fabric of his sleeves.

“We are close. Closer now than we have ever been. Therefore, it was a risk we were all willing to take, one that appears as successful as your mission. Do you not care about her now, emotionally invested in her survival and wellbeing? She is family. The only real family you have ever known. Or ever will.”

Despite the finality of the statement, he is defensive, alarmed by how quickly his feelings turned on him when they served as the stalwart of his storied career as a Jedi-killer.

“She is a vessel of the prophecy, as all other Winton’s have been.”

“The way you are acting now says otherwise, Inquisitor. It radiates from you, the same way it radiated off all the others. Resist if you dare but something within you has changed. You can feel it as well as I. You will fight for her, for us, and for the Sith. This is uncharted territory and we need you to see us through. Will you see us through, for the Covenant?”

He moves to the other side of the fire, mesmerized by the glow.

The reflection of the flames dance across his titian armor. Erinbol is right. He does have questions that go deeper than his fascinating jaunt through exposition city. And he is protecting Dahlia, even now, by withholding the full story of what happened on Prakith. Seif always believed the Voss-Ra had been transparent with him. Now the revisions of their foresight douse everything in a greasy accelerant of fervor and dread. The way he heard it; the prophecy was not something they could improvise their way to realization. Each calculation moves them closer with reinterpretations of the text bending the path toward fulfillment. He trusts in that. In them. And Seif wants to be free – free of the role they cast him in, free to be who he is, and now he knows the one way to do that. Looking deeper, Dahlia’s face appears in the deep crimson tendrils of flame. It does not burn the doubt from within him – he is but a piece of their plans, they all are – but now the intersectionality of their destinies become intensely clear. The truth always known is her. She is the way.

“For the Covenant.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on October 21, 2021, 09:36:17 PM

“Strolling down these halls of rolling dice and waterfalls
I can’t help but smile
Troubled fortunes, lives in shambles, underneath the flashing lights
Gonna stay a while.”

-Gabriels

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Emperor's Citadel

The conversation with Erinbol shook him to the core.

Affirmation and focus. It is not what he expected but it is what he needs. Dahlia’s visage in the flames solidified it for him and, for once, the promise of something more takes shape in his mind. He trusts the Voss-Ra. Erinbol, less so. He senses the angles in both their motives. The risk, however, calculated, was considerable. But it does make a sick sort of sense. Definition of insanity, etc. Reframing who is ally and enemy may very well alter the outcome. How many cycles passed before they began tinkering, allowing others to believe they could somehow harness the dark power of the prophecy? Reap the rewards, even those they conjured out of clever misdirection and selfish greed. Everyone with something to gain. Still, something does not sit right with him as he replays the mission over again in his mind so he returns to the princess’ chamber the following evening.

She has had some time to recover and deserves her solitude in this. Grieving is such a personal experience, with gravity and nuance even between two who share a tragedy. At the very least, he hopes she has begun the process even though he comes before her now with more suspicions.

Dahlia stands near the oval window, draped in a thin black cape with a high, arching scalloped collar, staring out over the eerie glow of Byss.

“Come to check on me?”

“Not entirely.”

She laughs, “At least you are upfront about it. I am fine, by the way. Physically, anyway. Emotionally? Touch and go. I appreciate the, uh, support. You got me back here safe and sound. Nice work, Inquisitor.”

“You did well and we accomplished what we came for.”

“Which, I take it, is why you are really here?”

Seif studies her carefully, knowing that she is too self-absorbed not to be a little smug. The tight smirk, half-hidden with her head turned away from him, confirms it.

“You did not appear surprised by the lack of progress Schrag had made. I want to know why.”

Sighing, she turns and approaches him, cape dragging along slowly behind her.

“For the same reason I secured my position as guardian over Dane and Gemma until they came of age. I offered up something he could ultimately do nothing with, despite what might be in it for me. I ran out the clock on the guardianship with vague and mysterious intentions of keeping them in Imperial control. The legacy gene was no different, not really. Although I did not truly believe he would be able to find success with it the way few others had, I could absolutely not allow a project with that kind of scope to remain a loose end. You understand. It would only be a matter of time before Schrag found the right person or, worse, gone after Dane or someone in his organization himself.”

“That is precisely what we want. One less variable.”

“Yes, but Dane has control of something we need. Means and position to leverage a powerful monopoly in the Corporate Sector. Diversified assets and the like. Capital, tech, weapons – all consolidating under a neat little Gellar umbrella. Do not forget Rutherford Gellar raised me too. Never hurts to have contingent resources. I love me some resources.”

He is caught between impressed and stunned, “Conniving. And I mean that in the best way.”

“Not offended,” she quips casually. “It has never been an insult.”

“Point taken. And?”

“If I had my druthers – Gemma and Riley would be eliminated first, wherever they are, leaving Dane space and time to become the greedy bastard he was always meant to be just in time for us to take it from him. I know, I know, it’s not the order they died before but it makes more sense from a, like, order of operations perspective.”

“Thankfully, the prophecy is not so rigid,” he says, recalling Erinbol’s words. “The order does not matter as much as the end result. The Winton must be the one that survives.”

“And I bloody well will.”

“I believe you. We know where Gemma and Riley are. They have retreated to Corellia in secret.”

“Oh, right. Your little spy.”

“We needed eyes on them,” Seif says. “And they would not be able to resist a Jedi in distress, not with me lurking in the shadows waiting to wipe them off the galactic map. Erinbol is monitoring the situation.”

“Did you…?”

“Tell him? No. It is not my story to tell. Nor my pain to bear.”

“You almost sound like you care.”

“Almost. As for Gemma and Riley, they may become painted targets for a vengeful Republic soon enough.”

“With Barrett tactfully nudging them in that direction.”

“The Speaker’s corruption is complete, the Republic’s reputation in tatters and mistrust was sown deep across the Mid and Outer Rim. It will not take much to incite a conflict only the Empire can resolve.”

There is buzzy wickedness in Princess Dahlia’s smile.

“I had my doubts about the truce but grateful to be proven wrong. One spark, and everything they worked so hard for…all burns to the ground.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on February 04, 2022, 07:02:06 PM

“Save me, save me from the unknown
While I daydream, I leave this world to follow
My footsteps are sinking to the hollows
I can retrace the memories in my shadows.”

-Bonobo

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Emperor’s Citadel

It is as if they exist beneath the rippling magic of an eternal aurora. Say what one will about the spooky vibes and virtual inaccessibility in the Deep Core, the views from atop the Citadel simply cannot be beaten.

The perks of power reveal new perspectives but Princess Dahlia knows there is more to uncover. She resumes training with Darth Erinbol, starting slowly at first but quickly finds the distraction both welcome and calming. Drawing on the darkness that permeates this place helps her heal and soon returns to form. The escalating simulated scenarios, at times involving Inquisitor Involis, give her focus and means to work through a type of grief so foreign to her she barely knew where to begin. Hitting stuff generally helps but she is self-aware enough to know that would not be the end of it. The loss of an unanticipated pregnancy, especially one that may have factored so heavily into their scripted prophecy plot threads, is not so easily cast aside.

So, she goes harder and challenges herself to find her own way through it. Dahlia processed the loss of her adoptive parents and would now do the same for what would have been she and Barrett’s child. Easier said than done, of course, which is why the structure of the training is just the thing. She has honed her fighting ability and mastered the tri-bladed saber but now the focus turns to the telekinetic and mystical aspects of her power. Not only as a complement to Barrett’s Darkshear, but to try and better understand how her power interacts with that in another prophetic ancestor. They teleported from within the Bolerathon Tower to the surface of Coruscant, she and Seif’s powers intertwined by the essence of the Etheralis placed in the center of his armor. It was effective and saved both of their lives but still sufficiently gave them pause. It is nothing that had been tested before, at least nothing the Voss-Ra or their co-conspirators have let on.

It takes considerable effort to call or move something through the Force while on the defensive from direct attacks and she struggles and fails against some of Erinbol’s more devious gamemastering. Thankfully, she has the time and pent-up emotions to steadily gain confidence in her abilities. She recalls the night that almost was with Quentin and the purely unabated power that radiated through her. The night she truly turned. Could she really tap into that without being completely consumed by it? She is understandably hesitant to go there given that Alexia was driven completely mad. And not even in a cool way. Dahlia wonders how much of that was the Voss-Ra and how much was jealousy over Karen’s place in the prophecy? She would be pissed too. Maybe do something rash. Alexia may very well make a compelling case for justified insanity and any destruction she left in her wake. Dahlia wants to harness that same potency in the Force without all the psychodrama. Well, no more than is absolutely necessary. Inside, there is an underlying fear she would soon be tested to find out.

The third Winton’s the charm.

Back in her chamber, after a long and glorious soak to ease the aches of her training, Princess Dahlia pulls on a silver robe and heads to bed. A soft but distinct chirp draws her attention to the nightstand. It is the Imperial holocomm Barrett gave her for emergencies. Designed to be a fashionably mundane accessory that would not draw attention if discovered, it could only be activated with her biometrics. She palms and activates it with a thumb, smiling as a small hologram of Barrett appears above the pad.

“She lives! I am most pleased.”

“Pretty sure there is too much riding on me so let us cross that worry off the list for now.”

“Damn, it is so good to see your face. I had a strange feeling you needed me.”

“You do have a flair for understatement. It’s me, the walking cliché. A princess in her tower. How are things in the Republic? Crumbling, I hope.”

Barrett’s sculpted features still make her weak in the knees, even through the ghostly glow of the holocomm, “Productive. They took the bait. There has, however, been an interesting…development.”

“In whose favor?”

“It would appear ours. There was an attack on the Republic President, one that likely took his life. This was not us and, although not confirmed, Kain may be a victim or involved. I know you knew her. I am surprised you had not caught it on the Holo.”

She eases down onto the bed, “Been kind of busy training. Erinbol is relentless.”

“He only makes you more formidable.”

“That should scare him more than it seems to. It would be terrible if Janessa was caught up in all this so I hope there is no truth to it.”

“Thus, the reason for my call, aside from missing you, of course. There is something I hope you will do for me.”

“Name it.”

“Question Involis. There is someone else working angles here and I do not like the idea of unaccounted for contingents running ops on our behalf. Schrag only briefed me on the missions the Inquisitors were sent on but now I question what I thought I knew. It would make me feel far more comfortable with our position if you could dispel these lingering questions for me. I take it you have brokered some trust with Seif?”

“Mutually so but I get it. The Voss-Ra and company have been running covert on this all along so best to know now rather than later.”

A company that may or may not include her not-so-dead master, Adubel? It had been a long time since she had shown her scary face and she absently touches the bridge of her nose remembering it. What has this version of herself been up to? She shudders to think and mentally marks her as another loose end to explore, however seemingly unkillable she may claim to be in this form.

“I appreciate it. You sure everything is good?”

Dahlia does not want to do it this way but needs him to know.

“Actually, no. There is something I need to tell you.”

And she tells him in what feels like a confession. The discovery and mission were accomplished with devastating consequences. Any progress Schrag had made in experimenting with the legacy gene was destroyed but, in doing so, she lost their child in the fight to that victory. He grows very quiet at first, features tightening and softening until she finishes speaking.

“You do not know how badly I want to be there with you right now. You should not have to suffer alone.”

“We will be together again soon but I was not alone. Seif actually stepped up. No one else knows. He covered for me, for some reason, when it counted. You understand what the prophecy says about the one with a child. The child is not a blessed savior, it is the vessel through which the fate of the prophecy is decided. And it was gone before I could even come to terms with that. Before we could even…discuss, decide. Anything. It was awful but probably for the best, for now.”

“But Seif, he could have-”

Her tone grows sharper at the insinuation, “I was in bad shape, Bar. I lost a lot of blood. If he wanted me dead, I would be dead. That is the simple fact of the matter.”

“Just because he was there for you - and I am grateful he was - does not mean he is on our side.”

“Nor does it mean he is against us. Something has changed. I can feel it.”

“Fair,” Barrett says, pulling back a bit. They are both upset. It is an upsetting thing. But he does not want her to be complacent with the kindness she was shown, regardless of the situation. “There are other forces at work here and I want to make sure we are not playing into anyone’s hands but our own.”

“Understood. I am not keen on being manipulated either.”

“Then question him. For me. For us. We need to know if there are overlapping agendas to ensure a singular focus. You may be protected by their hopes of fulfilling the prophecy but not everyone may feel the same. You may be fabulous but you are also divisive. We must remain vigilant. Always.”

They say their goodbyes, something bittersweet given the course of their conversation but when she sets down the device, she is relieved. Relieved that he knows and they can share in this strange grief. It is not only her burden to carry and they would sort out the complex emotional details together later. Knowing that gives her something to look forward to.

Her mind spins back to Seif: the cousin in question. What does he know? She scans through the headlines of the bombing on Chandaar. Lots of speculation but nothing solid yet. The investigation is still underway and it appears grim. If the President was indeed lost, it does bode well for pushing the Speaker over the edge into a complete tyranny. She expects Leeds, saturated with dark energy and what are, by now, his own grand delusions, to react accordingly. Point blame and let it rip. No one would be safe in their democracy again and the Empire will be forced to speak out to uphold their part of the truce. For, like, security and stability and stuff. However, if this forward motion was not an Imperially sanctioned op, who would go to such lengths to help them? The Voss-Ra, yes, but that, to Barrett’s point, is quite the gesture in furthering their goals. Taking out a head of state is not something you simply fail to mention. And Kain’s potential involvement, in whatever capacity, rouses even more suspicion.

She knows Garron disappeared, followed by Janessa shortly thereafter. Both have since returned. Explainable, perhaps, at least on record, but nothing has ever been so simple when it comes to the prophecy or those working in and around it. If Janessa was involved in something so destructive, she wonders if Garron is destined for the same. Even if these actions work in their favor, there is always the risk they could backfire or counteract something they have in the works. Dane could be harmed before he has a chance to acquire what will become their holdings in the Corporate Sector, not to say that what he has amassed so far would not suit them well. They need control of their destinies and have fought for every piece of it they have now. Are Seif or others orchestrating operations under their noses? Is Abudell still lurking about, tinkering with things from the shadows with judgment and scorn? If they all want the same thing, why not be on the same page? She would find out but with the respect Seif has earned.

Barrett is not wrong to ask but she is not certain she wants him to be right.

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on April 12, 2022, 10:48:13 PM

“And you know and I know
I don’t know me very well
And I know and you know
If they found me out”

-Tori Amos

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Emperor’s Citadel

Princess Dahlia Winton joins Seif Greyson-Guldon for dinner.

Since she cannot be seen outside their sanctuary within the Citadel, at least not without her mask and costume, these affairs trended toward the upscale yet sparsely attended. Darth Erinbol and the faux-Schrag would join them on occasion but generally left Dahlia and Seif to dine together. She had been infrequently seen outside of training lately, guised as part of her recovery from their mission, but she is beginning to venture back out. She has made peace with what happened although she would likely not stop blaming herself any time soon. Part of the process, she imagines. Sharing with Barrett had certainly helped but she does long to be with him again. This lack of engagement with anyone beyond their inner circle is literally killing her.

She appears at the edge of the room in a black, V-neck gown with embellished shoulder fringe. Seif has already arrived and stands dutifully by his chair as she approaches. There are many things she questions but their manners are not among them. He takes his seat after she does but seems uncertain as to where to begin.

“It is good to see you out and looking well.”

“A solid opening,” she quips lightly. “I am feeling much better, thank you. My social life, however, is on the critical list. Hopefully, I shall make my grand return soon enough.”

He raises a glass to that, “And here I was beginning to think I would end the last of my days on the tawdry gossip of a twentysomething.”

“Admit it, you live for the hot takes. This place could use a fresh bit of perspective. It’s so oppressive!”

“The Imperial aesthetic is simply that, but I suppose your perspective is not entirely unwarranted or unappreciated.”

She smirks and waits until their food is served and they are alone before continuing.

“That was almost a compliment which looked painful so do not strain yourself. Also, you do not have to remain cooped up here with me if you do not wish to. I am certain you have Inquisitorial duties to perform elsewhere.”

He reflects on his conversation with Erinbol, considering his words carefully.

“Those duties have changed in light of recent events. Our roles in previous cycles now take a different shape in the present one.”

The fare is delicious and they eat in silence for a few moments. At least they were not hurting in the fine dining department. The spread laid out for them has always been impressive.

“I actually do not know much of the Inquisitor's role, aside from legend and the little you have shared. Who sends you on your little missions?”

He smiles wanly, “You make them sound insignificant when they were anything but and you know we serve our Emperor well.”

“Yet this one did not know who you really are. Did the last?”

“Neither Dementat nor Schrag knew of my identity.”

“Interesting and duplicitous. I dig but since both are gone, who guides you now?”

“I feel an accusation lingering beneath your snide banter.”

Princess Dahlia curls a finger around the stem of her glass, “You were there for me when I needed it most and I will always be grateful. Barrett is less convinced. Given the complicated and rather bloody history, can you blame him?”

“I know what he thinks. What do you think?”

“I think that if our roles have shifted in this cycle then we ought to act accordingly. There is much at stake here, many plans in the works to nudge us ever closer to what we all want – a prophecy fulfilled and the Sith to rise again. Conflicting actions may have unintended consequences.”

“Such as?”

“The demise of a prominent political figure casting suspicion upon carefully laid foundational plans.”

He eases into the chair and laughs, “You think I took out Inganarre?”

“That is not a no.”

“It is, actually. Such a bold and dramatic action may serve our shared purpose but is far too dangerous to risk, not when many are now viewing the Empire in a new light. If you believe I did this to expedite the plan, you would be incorrect.”

“Then I ask again, without an Emperor, who do you serve?”

Seif holds her eye, “You.”

“I am not here to be flattered, cousin. We need to take great care in our next steps whereas not to derail what has already been set into motion. You expect me to believe this about-face plainly? After what we experienced together, I want to but I will not fall prey to the trappings that swallowed both my sisters.”

“I saw something,” he starts, gripping the edge of the table. “Something that convinced me you were the one they spoke of, believed in so desperately despite all their machinations and setbacks. You are the Winton to win the Prophecy Persephonea. You are the truth always known. I would not jeopardize all of that on some petty grievance or personal agenda. Of that, you can be certain.”

Dahlia, breathless, asks, “What did you see?”

“Your face. In the flames of Erinbol’s fire. It was then I knew. However, I understand the optics from your superficial point of view. No Master, others working in the shadows all along. You wish to know where my orders come from. They last came from Schrag but I was the only one with the context and guidance of the Voss-Ra, and they concealed who I am and the role I play in the prophecy. Dementat had greater value with his active participation. Schrag was more complicated but they managed to make it work.”

He takes a swig from his glass, relief flooding him at long last. The weight of his existence lifted from his shoulders.

“You want to know the Inquisitors role? We hunt Jedi, Dahlia. It is who we are. The last few years have proved the most ferocious campaign yet. There were five of us originally, working in secret for Dementat but his untimely death and Schrag’s rise left us little time to question anything except for where to go next. The plans were already in motion. Two Inquisitors are feared lost and have not made contact in some time. The third was confirmed to have been killed on Berzite at the edges of Wild Space in an ambush. Allom, Feraas, and I are all that remain. The Jedi have been slaughtered or driven out of the known galaxy with exceptions like Masterton, tucked away, as we plot out how best to strike at them.”

“You tried to kill me. We would have both perished if the Etheralis had not activated our powers.”

Seif sighs, “An unfortunate situation turned in our favor. I was not made aware of these changes until recently. Schrag wanted you dead, that is true, and the Voss-Ra did not dispute that. They had other ideas.”

“Do tell.”

“As you wish but I can only share what I know. I knew who I was and what that could mean for me but there is much I still have yet to learn. Initially, I was instructed to slay Masterton and abduct her protector, a man called Prescott. The curious Ambassador Kain came looking for him and, given her discovery of Ambassador Sienna’s…situation, was considered a loose end despite keeping the previous attempts on her life by the Empire quiet. So, I took her as well and you took care of Sienna. I do not know what happened to either of them until they resurfaced in their respective locations. I have seen the Holo, rumors of Kain’s presence or involvement in the bombing depending on your tolerance for conspiracy, but I did not send her after the Republic President if that is what you suspect.”

The thing is, Dahlia believes him, mostly because the Inquisitors were assigned missions and seldom asked questions. That much she does know. If the Voss-Ra gave those orders, they had their motives. Yet, while the two other Inquisitors are skulking around the Inquisitorius or off hunting any remaining Jedi, Involis remains here with her. Is this conversion to their side of things a result of new context or true belief? He reads differently to her now, less of a guarded mystery to wonder and worry about, but the purpose of taking those specific people still troubles her.

“Did they take anyone else?”

“A doctor from Corellia, someone close to the CorSec Director.”

She had heard about it; the Director attacked, badly injured. The doctor was killed with insinuations of a Jedi conspiracy. Splashy headlines that further drew the Republic’s ire, violations of their increasingly ruthless laws seemingly flaunted so brazenly in their faces. Bold moves for a sect that has bided its time. The acts feel impatient as if they are rushing so near the end.

“The Voss-Ra have nudged things along, all this time, but this grand gesture is reckless and unexpected. If our shared goal is to fulfill the prophecy then any move we make should work together in achieving it. I may not enjoy not being in the know but Barrett should at least understand any operations as they relate to the goal. I do not feel that is an unreasonable ask of them.”

“I do not disagree.”

“Then we must align on any further proposed actions that would further the prophecy.”

“Yes, it is reckless, which means you have failed to consider one thing.”

“And what is that?”

“It may not have been the Voss-Ra at all.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on August 09, 2022, 09:52:22 PM

“I don’t want another dead end
Get the shovel, I can dig in
You don’t wanna admit it
Let me be the one who did it.”

-Banks

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Emperor’s Citadel

Seif has a point. There is a distinct sense of escalation.

As Princess Dahlia continues her training, she mulls over the myriad of events in her life over the past few years. So enlightened, finally. Finally. Yet even all the context they think they have could just be an illusion. Enough to keep them satiated but pliable. Treading the same tracks in another cycle. How would they really know? That is all prophecy is anyway – smoke and mirrors that can be directed in the way that best suits the one clever and/or foolish enough to try and harness its potential and power. She is more than happy to bring about the darkness if she can help herself...and others. Barrett broke it down; there must be merit in any meddling. The Voss-Ra may have a singular focus but never explicitly stated they would not deal and trade with those who could help them, even if there were setbacks. Sacrifices they are willing to make in the name of fulfillment. The proof is in the pools of blood left in its wake. Her father had taken considerable liberties. Leveraging the prophecy to achieve immortality is hardly subtle.

Those Winton’s. Always too much.

Still, there is something bugging her about the whole thing. The Voss-Ra took a hell of a risk with neither she nor Seif killing each other. Schrag had motive and the Inquisitor had no way to refuse those orders. Their faith stopped them from intervening and the Winton fam has thus far proved that it has not been misplaced. The same cannot be said for the big boom on Chandaar. They have been claws deep in Republic drama for years. They would sense a scheme like that from a galaxy away.

Yet they seemingly did nothing to acknowledge or stop it.

If they did not give the order or stand idly by then they must have provided some kind of assistance or assurance…and there happen to be two assets currently in place on the Republic capital to do just that. How handy. Then there is Quentin; the handler. She has to laugh at the handful they must be but there are some roles people are just meant to play. The cynical, smoldering dummy is def Q’s destined doom. In another life, perhaps…

So, if not them, who? Her mind continually loops back to the same face. Only one person she knows is bold enough to go that big. The same kind of person who would blatantly kidnap school children in the middle of the day and blow up a rally disguised as one of the more recognizable Jedi. Someone who would casually pop up to snag a disillusioned Alia while the others were caught up in their own drama and grief.

Ever the opportunist.

Adubell.

Princess Dahlia decides to trust Seif with these conclusions but he seems dismayed.

More so than usual.

“What is it?”

“We have lost contact with our insider. She missed a check-in but we now know key members of Corellian leadership are either directly involved or complicit in defiance of Republic law. Elected representatives, the People’s Council, CorSec, maker knows who else – all conspiring against them. The story writes itself.”

She shrugs, flipping her hair, “It is certainly meant to look that way.”

To his credit, he hears her out. She knows how it sounds and he cautions her about overplaying her hand.

He also confirms her suspicions.

“The Voss-Ra is an ancient order and I have come to recognize that some things are not beyond them.”

“How far beyond are we talking?”

“Further than you would think.”

She searches his face, “You had no reaction when I mentioned my old master. You know her?”

“I know of her,” he corrects. “We serve different functions.”

“That response feels more evasive than it should but if she continues what my father started, we are not safe. Taking out Schrag’s little experiment means nothing if she has a network to resurrect herself and reappear at any given moment and wreak havoc whenever something does not go her way. She is kind of prone to doing that.”

“Some risks are more calculated than others but we are not operating blind.”

“Says you.”

His jaw tightens with the flaming truth, “I now see what is possible on the other side of everything I had come to believe. The victory and the reward. We can be free of it all.”

“The other side. How lovely a thought that is. Have you considered what they will do when they finally get what they want?”

He does not like what she is implying so there is a hint of warning in his tone even if he has come to question it.

“The Sith will rise but they want the Winton to rule.”

Her smirk is accompanied by a slow nod. Yeah, right. Okay. They seem like the sharing type. Perhaps their facilitation of her rise gives them hope they will find her favor, to be justly included and revered. A place in history.

Not a bad plan but probably not the only plan.

“Then I need them to cede some jurisdiction on a few things. We do not know what we think we do, especially if Adubell is involved.”

“No,” he says coolly. “They will not defer creative control to either of us. Different functions, remember? Everyone needs this to go smoothly.”

“Oh, do they? Seriously, darling. Focus on function is a distraction unto itself. And here I thought we were building trust.”

“It is your compulsive nature, not your capabilities that raise concerns.”

“I have to try, if for no other reason than their outsourcing puts Barrett at risk. We need everything for him to go smoothly too. Transfers of power at this scale are not often executed with grace. He cannot be a victim of the Republic’s unraveling.”

"Then I wish you luck."

*

In the vast yet vacuous throne room, she goes before the faux-Schrag Emperor and demands they turn control of whatever project Kinsa and Quinn belong to over to her. No small talk, just business. A bit brazen but she knows they are up to something hinky. It considers her carefully and quietly, almost unnervingly so, but finally decides and brings down the hammer.

“No.”

“I know their world better than they do. I can help you.”

“It is unnecessary. Despite the growing adaptability of your adopted father’s tech enhancing their abilities each day, these assets still require particular guidance to see them through to our ends. While you possess many abilities and skills, these are not among them.”

“Different functions?”

“Correct,” it says. “But we do understand. You want all traces of Schrag’s influence wiped clean and we can assure you that it has been done. The only thing that remains is achieving our collective goals. Now, we need you to focus on your return and how you will once again capture the public attention and adoration – first as a victim of the Jedi and again of the Republic trying to fuel the flames of fire they started.”

“That may prove challenging if your associates go rogue.”

“Our associates are not your concern.”

“Except they are,” she counters evenly. “Past or present, getting everyone on board has never been a guarantee. There are some that do not want this to succeed, and others who have tried to capitalize on your vision for themselves. I do not want that to happen again.”

Faux-Schrag apprises her with a mixture of surprise and wonder. In the beginning, this cycle held the ability to unite the galaxy in peace, to give back what those that came before them had taken away. What they saw in their rituals shook them deeply. But peace is no longer even a fleeting option. They have made sure of that but are pleased to see she is aligned with their ways of thinking.

“Nor do we, princess.”

Erinbol emerges from the shadows, impressed by her initiative, “There are much grander plans for you. No sense in getting tripped up in the details.”

“Tripping is the least of my worries with you,” she sighs in mock-weariness, not even remotely thrown by his mysterious appearance. They tell her things she wants to hear. Everyone believes they are doing this for the right reasons through different functions that become illusions of their own. Seif is right again; they are not operating blind. “And what of these grander plans?”

His scarred face seems to crinkle inward with a garish smile.

“You are the woman who is going to start the next galactic civil war.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on November 14, 2022, 06:41:41 PM

“And are you honest?
And are you free?
And do you trust?
You trust in me.”

-Boy Harsher

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Emperor’s Citadel

Princess Dahlia casts a pensive stare out over the ominous cityscape, framed perfectly against a bruise-hued aurora in the night sky. Same view, different day. What she lacks in meaningful social interaction is balanced by the stunning scenery and reflection time. Wink-wink, nod-nod. Super helpful though for dissociating after the reveal of their true plans for her. Soon she would be sent back to the Republic capital to publicly reemerge with information designed to formally divide a fractured government from its remaining allies. “Chaos incarnate” was a phrase thrown around, perhaps a little too casually. It is nothing if not dramatic. The peril of the pretty makes for such a spectacular show. That much the last batch got and nailed it. Although stunned, she is not exactly surprised. Should anything surprise her by now? Probably not but the scope of the ask is still…impressive. Even for them. The price of ascension. For all her self-absorption, she always knew this would never be a free ride and considers how to best approach it.

Conceptually and literally.

She momentarily muses how Karen would have handled this development. Shopping, probably, as Dahlia has a similar compulsion to blow off some steam. Not that she can with the nearest D’jour or Viu Viu boutique a gazillion lightyears away. Well, spiraling and self-loathing it is then. Her attention is drawn back to her own faint reflection in the floor-to-ceiling window. As it so often is. The Winton vanity is well-documented and totally warranted, in her not-so-humble opinion. Too bad it is being wasted languishing within this heavily fortified citadel.

Not for long…

The door chimes radiate across her gloomy thoughts, signaling the arrival of her escort. Typically, she would meet him downstairs but they must have figured she needed a bit of encouragement this evening. He enters and crosses the massive suite.

“Princess?”

Dahlia turns in an asymmetrical, sleeveless, floor-length gown - a glittering smokey gray - with her crimson hair falling freely over her shoulders.

“Here I am, ready for our little charade. Shall we?”

(https://64.media.tumblr.com/c2fcf9d3f9bbf8fe7453cbe08af88f3c/1718d7dcfc9d5996-1d/s500x750/6d202853ebbdc6ffe8e6a626b580f8baafbff659.jpg)(https://64.media.tumblr.com/d4a85fa1383363b451f016e540ce14bf/e43c6f8f220c14a6-c8/s500x750/802c423688d85d0b83a05b55219cea90ad196752.jpg)

Seif extends a hand as she descends the steps, “I would ask why you bother with such formalities if I thought you did not thoroughly enjoy the inane pageantry of it all. Have you been crying?”

“Only a little,” she says evenly. “I did not want my eyeliner to run. Besides, you clean up on command as well because we are both playing the same game.”

She takes his arm as they begin the journey to their usual spot, a converted conference hall in this wing serving as formal dining. They spared no expense in styling it to simulate something she would be comfortable in and the effort is appreciated although beginning to wear a bit thin.

“What game would that be?”

“The one we have been playing for what seems like ages. We train daily to hone our power and skills then get dressed up for dinner. Over and over again. No one outside these walls ever sees our faces or knows our names. Like, sure, it is mysterious or whatever but feels so calculated.”

“Now I thought that would be the part you liked best.”

Dahlia smiles tightly, “Gilded as this all may be, you and I are very much in cages.”

They arrive at the lifts and step inside. He stares only at their warped reflection in the polished black doors.

“It is about time you reconciled that fact. We serve different functions for a shared purpose. I told you as much and warned you that you would fail if you went before them. But you insisted and now you seem rattled by the bare truth of what you must do to survive. It is them or us and I know you well enough now to understand that self-preservation will eclipse any misgivings you may have about the methods. We can overlook things together if that helps.”

She keeps her head tilted high, fighting back tears that have threatened to erupt all afternoon. He is not wrong and she knows it. He knows that she knows it too, which stings even worse. Darth Erinbol pushes their limits daily but stops short of further exploring their powers with the Etheralis. If she were them, unexplained teleportation would give her pause too. Who knows what else they can do if they tried? There is an unpredictability there, something she believes frightens them. A point of exploitation, if necessary. Something to have up their sleeve. She would require Seif’s cooperation which, at the moment, feels tentative at best despite the inroads they have made.

At the doors of the conference hall, Seif nods to the royal guards as they pass through. He pulls out her chair and waits until she is seated before taking his own. A small quartet plays for them in the corner tonight, the notes providing musical cover as she delicately snatches up the flute of champagne parked to the right of her dinner spread. Sighing, she leans against the table.

“Sweet but no, it does not help. Failure only further solidified my suspicions. I fear they are working with individuals who may or may not share that purpose which significantly compromises the outcome everyone so desperately wants. They may not make the moves themselves but those moves are dangerous nonetheless. Tell me you see that too.”

He takes a slow sip of whiskey, head sliding back to consider it, “Deluded as you can be, I never said your assessment was off-base. Your efforts will only serve to anger them. Tell me why you continue to push this.”

“Everything the prophecy represents - where it came from, how it can and has been used – is alluring, difficult to resist. You watched all the players in the last cycle go down in flames because our fathers used it to serve their own interests so I marvel at how you can be so bloody flip. By your own admission, you considered taking it for yourself. It can mean so many things to so many people. Even Scrhag gambled with the potential perks but the truth is our victory and ultimate freedom rests on its fulfillment sans supporting cast side quests. Clearly, the Voss-Ra cannot control every aspect of how this all unfolds. If Abudell or others hijack this situation we are, like, totally screwed. They will have no use for us anymore.”

“That is not true.”

“I know you believe that,” she quips venomously. “But you cannot sit there and tell me you know that for certain.”

Well, this is awkward.

He is bound to her. He also swore an oath to the Voss-Ra.

For her. For the Covenant. For her. For the Covenant. Through the flames, drenched in blood; it makes this a rather precarious situation. She reshaped his perspective with her presence and influence, something he did not expect or welcome.

Yet here they are.

Seif finds himself horrifically torn, seeds of doubt taking root within him while raising red flags left and right. He wonders if the Voss-Ra leveraged the family angle to internationally cloud his judgment about anything else they may do. Or who they may use to do it. Provide the connection he always wanted in exchange for continued trust in their plans. They have done much worse, allowing atrocities to be committed for even minuscule steps in the right direction. Dahlia compromises his faith with her theories that happen to make a little too much sense. And it crushes something in him. The cracks in their foundation are now visible but he supposes they always were. He chose to believe. There is a part of him that still does. She may be flawed but so is the Covenant and the distorted logic behind it.

Faith is, after all, its own form of gaslighting.

The either/or aspect of their unfolding situation does not sit well with him yet he chooses to explore it. To allow for an alternative to the vision the masters he served for so many years drilled into him practically from birth. The face he saw in the fire. Her face. Seif sets the glass down on the table and studies her carefully. Something he has done frequently since they have been on Byss. Dahlia has come a long way in their time together here with every challenge sharpening her outlook and resolve. Yet, she continues to struggle with her fate resting on a seemingly nebulous framework.

He understands why yet ponders its possible futility. Once upon a time, Emperor Dementat and Darth Kyja believed they held the power to control their own fates and futures. Masterton crossed a line no one thought she would and brought the Voss-Ra’s hopes down around her. Those before the last Four, all the way back to Persephone’s original four offspring, all fell due to the shifting variables around them. The nature of prophecy, as Dahlia so bluntly illustrated. There are equal parts faith and scheming in these plans but how far in either direction would they go? He is curious about her next move.

“What would you like me to do about that?”

She finishes the flute and dabs a droplet from her lips, leveling a determined gaze upon him. She may be a lot of things but, right now, Princess Dahlia is not fucking around.

“You said it yourself; it is them or us.”

“That is not what I-”

“I know what you meant. And you know what I mean now. Them or us, darling. You decide.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on April 17, 2023, 06:22:50 PM

“Move slow, head home
Follow
I’ll lead you
True gold, stay low
Sorrow
Cuz I need you.”

-Float Fall

Byss: Imperial Capital

Surface: Emperor’s Citadel

Intrusive thoughts ascend into the pulsating borealis as a trio of Tie Fighters streaks across the sky.

Princess Dahlia wonders what would happen if they were all suddenly sucked into the nearby black hole at the center of their galaxy. Torn apart in slow motion, stretched and strangled across space-time. So, so close to destruction. She playfully muses that the only thing keeping them from doing so is the pure spite born from the dark side energies permeating the planet. Even with a bit of macabre amusement, it does not completely disconnect her from her loss or the fact that they are using her once again.

Twisted means. True belief. A dangerous combo.

She knew there would be casualties. A handful here or there, perhaps, but legions lost for them to rule? It feels excessive, even for them. All that blood on her hands - it is a good thing crimson is her color. Still, annoyance lingers. The Voss-Ra and their little plots. Their dedication to the cause is commendable but she questions their loyalty to her specifically. She is a Winton, yes, but one in a long line of Winton’s set up to take it all or take the fall – depending on how shrewdly they hedge their bets. She must know the extent of their plans yet they are rather adept at not showing their full hand.

The variable here is Seif. Will he or won’t he choose her?

He knows them better than anyone – or does he?

Her words infected him – just as she intended - an ultimatum to spur action. Sorry not sorry. His entire life and purpose have been called into question. It is only natural to want to explore that even if it was a bitch move to pull. She needs allies, not questionable groupies. This was the quickest way to ensure that – one way or the other. Barrett would be proud. Besides, the least she can do is cut some of Seif’s strings while they prep for her spectacular return. Mercifully, Seif is skeptical of the plan as well and left in a bit of a huff.

She sighs, turning back to her reflection in the mirror, “Drama queen.”

*

Several stories below, Seif Guldon-Greyson storms into the Sith’s inner sanctum. Drab, dark, perfect for their incessant brooding. Too much thinking, not enough action. It is why their paths have so seldom crossed. Only now that he serves an elevated function do they make the time. The source of light comes from a fire at the center of the circular chamber, a pit that seems to be lit by hell itself. He can sense it the moment he enters – a concept that slows his stride.

“Something on your mind?”

Darth Erinbol was waiting for him.

“Your insistence on playing games with me has grown tiresome.”

“Oh, I think we are well beyond that now. You are in this. Full stop.”

He turns from the fire. The glow creates chasms along the scars on his face.

“Would you agree?”

He evades the bait, “You have grand plans for the princess. A bold play to instigate a mechanism of death through her resurrection. There is something of poetry in it.”

“Life, death, rebirth – we are part of many cycles. She will be fabulous as always…with you there to escort her, of course.”

He scoffs, “The armor may prove a bit dramatic for a political setting. Too distracting. We want her face, not my glowing suit, splashed across the Holo along with all those accusations.”

Erinbol crosses in front of him, “Not as Inquisitor Involis. As Seif.”

“As…myself?”

He has never been just Seif. All he remembers is Involis. The Inquisitor; a trained killer, reluctant understudy, The Beast. Serving a different function, just as he has told her over and over again about the roles they play. The Beast never makes it very far which removes any historical data to compare and analyze. It would be easy to believe in their distraction as the Voss-Ra, through their Sith emissary, dangle his identity in front of him.

He leaves it there.

For now.

“I will accompany her for security - so long as you provide all the details. We do not want any surprises.”

It hits the nerve he hoped it would.

“You dare question the Voss-Ra? They have never steered you astray. They raised you, entrusted you with one of the Sith’s most precious resources in the Etheralis.”

“Yes, yes, as old as the Force itself, imbued with its very essence. I know the tale.”

“Too powerful to be kept whole so, like the four offspring of Persephone, it was separated. One piece on its own brought the power to channel the Force in ways no ordinary practitioner ever could. You have seen its many mystical properties, aiding you in your quest to seek out and destroy the Jedi.”

Yes, he has seen what it can do.

Its power transported him and Dahlia from within the Bolerathon Tower to the surface of Coruscant, a planet that should not, for all intents and purposes, exist anymore. They survived because of that power – and theirs. He continues the story, recalling it from his youth.

“And if all four are joined together the wielder of the pure Etheralis would be granted untold power.”

“Throughout history, the pieces have been gained and lost, used to amplify power or become a vessel through which Force energy can be channeled and directed. It does not destroy as much as it transmutes although one can so easily be mistaken for the other. You saw what can happen when influenced by players in The Prophecy Persephonea. Coruscant reformed as a result of The Four’s intersection. They rejoined the pieces but Dahlia and Barrett gave it life.”

“Each piece does more than that. More than you have been willing to share.”

“That it does. So much more. It is that power that will bring a new beginning for our Empire where the Sith will rise and rule as was foretold!”

“Rule in place of or alongside?”

Erinbol brings his grotesque hands together beneath the oversized fabric of a deep viridescent robe, his face becoming very solemn and still as the flames seem to bend around his form.

“Your candor betrays your true feelings about the outcome. You want this as much as we do. As you should. However, you are not wrong to ask. They asked the same of you. Will you acknowledge and accept that it belongs to another or will you try to take it for yourself? A tempting question. A test in the form of a trap. Rest assured, Seif. The Master and Daughter of Darkness will rule with the risen Sith at their sides. Together, we will vanquish the Jedi and purge the ways of the light. The galaxy will once again be ours.”

“I am grateful to hear it,” he replies sincerely, steering him toward a huge caveat. “If you do not first sabotage it with your misplaced faith.”

Erinbol visibly recoils, “What do you mean by that?”

“Not all may be so comfortable with this ending. Outsourcing has cost you dearly in the past. Barrett knows you would not dirty your hands with such a nasty task like taking down the Republic President. Tactfully placed assets feed flaming fears fanned through the Voss-Ra’s narrative consistency. Everyone jumps to exactly the right conclusions. Clever, as always, but still so blind to see how sideways it can go at any moment in the wrong hands.”

“You know what the elders saw. It spurred our actions in this new cycle. Alliances must be forged so that The Four can never bring peace. United through chaos, they will see us into the deepest of nights.”

“So you admit it. Another is working for you in the shadows of your shadows."

“To further this cause? Our cause? Always.”

“Convenient that it is also Dahlia’s former master.”

A tense silence falls over them with only the occasional snap of the flames to score their standoff. The gamble pays off and Erinbol blinks first.

“The Lady Adubell has been a patron of the prophecy for some time now. Someone with her own ends who possesses a talent we need right now. You of all people know how important it is to utilize all tools at your disposal.”

Seif presses him, “And if those ends interfere with ours?”

“We will eliminate her.”

“You presume she would give you such an opening. From what I hear, she has a talent for reappearing at the least opportune moments.”

Erinbol’s cackle is eerily crisp, “Her association with Alexander Winton may have given us pause but this was restored when she promised and delivered on turning Dahlia. It positioned her as the Daughter of Darkness perfectly and our partnership has been extremely beneficial for all involved.”

He follows the unanswered threads, “It was she who took the others - the Corellian medical director and Republic Ambassador? To use against them.”

“She is.”

Dahlia was right. Her old Master has been up to no good, allegedly on their behalf. She should be skeptical given how they both came to be yet he coaches her into his same compliance. Play the game to win. The Adubell threat jeopardizes that despite anything that Erinbol says. They are foolish to believe otherwise. He will not continue to be a passive participant and it is long past time he made clear an agency stripped from him by these alliances.

“What makes Adubell so different from Schrag or Winton or my father?”

“It is not the same.”

“Except it is. She, like the others before her, will come to want more. She will not accept her place in this as we have and that will be our undoing.”

Erinbol begins to speak but is cut off by a wave of Seif’s hand that closes into a fist and lifts the Sith into the air. The shock of the action causes him to gasp which is silenced by pressing into his windpipe. As Erinbol begins to choke, he rounds the pit and draws him closer to the flames.

“You are correct about one thing. I am in this and will do my part but I need you to do the same. For her. For the Covenant. We have come too far for this to unravel because you overestimate how much control you have over anything. What was lost before must be found through seeing things for what they are – and the dangers that lurk within your own schemes, threatening to again derail everything we have worked so hard to build. The Lady Adubell is a problem and you need to check your hubris.”

Seif eases the pressure off his throat and Erinbol sputters.

“W-w-we will do…what must be d-d-done-”

The Sith is close enough to the flames that his skin begins to sear and blister but he does not hold him there for long. Collapsing to the ground, Erinbol coughs violently as he scrambles away with wide black eyes that behold Seif framed by the fire between them.

The Beast in its truest form.

“Good,” he says with a profound rage churning inside him. “As will we.”

*

Back inside the princess’s chamber, Seif returns. She is not sure what she expected but the look of stoic determination seems at odds with the energy radiating off of him. Something has shifted, that much is clear, but in whose favor is anyone's guess. Dahlia must be ready for anything.

“So,” she says, rising slowly with a finger grazing the hilt of her saber. “What will it be then?”

“Us.”

She smiles, “Right answer.”

“We will see. Now, pull yourself together and stop gloating. We will be debriefed in an hour.”

“Then what?”

He pauses at the door, “Then we depart for Chandaar.”

-TBC

Title: Re: CC: Imperial March
Post by: Syren on July 18, 2023, 05:24:03 PM

“If looks could kill they probably will
In games without frontiers
War without tears
Games without frontiers
War without tears.”

-Peter Gabriel

Hyperspace

Hurling through the pale swirl of doom it dawns on her.

Princess Dahlia could use a gloss touch-up. Space travel always leaves this pucker parched! They took the Royal Cruiser, a bold choice in her opinion, with Seif seething silently as they prepared for departure. He brushed off her concerns about the ship being identified with a stern sneer and muttered something about handling everything. The debrief he mentioned was little more than a high level rundown of what was to happen on Chandaar. They would discuss details on the way. Something told her he desperately wanted out from behind those citadel walls and would use this opportunity as a way to escape. He would even shelve Inquisitor Involis in order to gain distance and take action – keeping the suit handy yet hidden for the mission at hand.

The urge to pry about what went down with Erinbol was threatening to overwhelm her so she dutifully packed it up to distract herself. She was positively dying for him to drop the hot goss but Seif was in no mood for spilling. Whatever it was has got to be juicy to put him in such a mood. She would get it out of him eventually unless he decided to take her out instead. Maybe the Voss Ra made him an offer he couldn’t refuse…except he likely would not have tolerated her forcing him into an exasperating game of "bring it or leave it" with specific pieces she procured while within the innermost galactic core. A miraculous feat unto itself. Trying to find classic couture on Byss was as useless as trying to teach a Stormtrooper to shoot straight.

Soon after, they are in her polished and fully charged up cruiser – off, off, and away!

Sighing dramatically, Dahlia glances over the coordinates, surmising they are not headed where she thinks they are, “Pit stop?”

“A brief but relevant detour.”

“Still being vague I see. Cool, cool.”

He smirks at the controls. She is rightfully tense. There is a lot riding on what she must do – is being forced to do. The Voss-Ra once again pinned their prospective triumphs on a perfectly executed performance. Flaws, obstacles, and variables be damned. The Four need to commit to their characters fully. The Covenant demands nothing less.

Seif draws out the silence before speaking again, “You were both right and wrong.”

“Do tell,” she breathes, fighting the urge to scream.

“The Voss-Ra wants you to rule. Sith cannot have power unless you have power. Your success is tied to their ability to rise and rule alongside you. That much they made clear. As you have proven yourself a worthy - if not irritating and spoiled – contender for the crown and throne, their allegiance has shifted from the Winton abstract to the Dahlia specific. You are the one they back with Barrett their chosen suitor.”

“How fabulous,” she deadpans. “They are so cringe.”

“You can be petty if you choose but this is a good thing. Such a structure works for them and for us. I do not believe you have anything to fear from them directly. That is where you were wrong.”

“Grateful to hear it in this case, even if it is a bit…convenient.”

“So it is. However, you were right about Adubell. They have been working with her for years.”

Her eyes flare with rage, “I fucking knew it! What a bunch of assholes.”

“Assholes who needed something done that only she managed to do.”

“Oh, yeah? Like what? Being a compulsively manipulative, immortal bitch who cannot stick to a script to save her life – or lives - for that matter? All she does is trample everyone’s lines to serve herself.”

“Turn you to the dark side. She brought you over. Whatever she is, your engagement with Adubell led you to accept your role as Daughter of Darkness. It is where you needed to be in order to take the next step, to become who you are, and be the one who fulfills the Prophesy Persephonea.”

Dahlia scoffs, stalking back and forth behind him, “So it is written, blah, blah blah. She kidnapped, traumatized, and very nearly killed me! If that is not a villain origin story, I do not know what is. Well, congrats, she gets points for following through but I am going to stop short of applauding my psychological dismantling so that she could successfully cast me in this role. They manipulated both of us! We were forced onto this stage but they still retain all the agency.”

“Wrong again,” he says gravely, finally turning to look at her. “I took that back. For us.”

Surprised and thrilled, she stops and asks, “Really? How?”

“A show of force, of solidarity. To remind them.”

“Of what exactly?”

“That I too have power. To decide for myself. To protect you. To punish them for using riddles and half-truths to push and pull us across the board to test out their visions and theories. They fear as much as they believe, which does not appear to align until you remember why they do anything. They fear the unpredictable nature of the Etheralis combined with multiple descendants as it could be turned against them but believe it plays a pivotal role. They fear Adubell, as they did Alexander and Medivh, yet also believe that her own selfish whims will prevent her from threatening your ascension.”

She gasps, “How is that possible? She is barely human anymore."

“She will enter the fray but never leave it. I do not know how.”

Dahlia rolls her eyes, “Until she respawns and turns up somewhere unexpected. You do not know what she is capable of.”

He stands and closes the distance between them, “I know that she, like our fathers, has fallen under the sway of what the prophecy represents. The test they and Schrag failed. They were not entirely specific about the means but, while she may have her machinations, her motives are not true. Not like us, like you. That is why they believe she will fail. The elders have seen it.”

“Erinbol told you all this? Voluntarily?”

He smirks, “With some…motivation.”

“I knew it had to be good. Holy shit, what did you do?”

“Made damn sure they know we are serious and have the agency to execute on it.”

She exhales deeply, pulling the dark robes around her. He had risked much to challenge them and someone in another position may have been struck down for it but they need him like they need her. It crystallizes something between them. All the selfish pretense, the vapid façade, falls away.

“Thank you.”

Seif bows and lifts his eyes to hers, “As I said before, your assessment of them was not wrong. I suppose I needed someone to voice my doubt and frustration for me to truly confront it. I watched from afar as everything fell apart for Alexia and Karen, never intervening because it was not my place to do so. That was not my role to play, not my function, and now I know why. This is where I am meant to be, who am meant to be. I will do so in service to you if you will have me.”

She embraces him tightly and he does not pull away.

“I will.”

They find comfort and closure in the ripples that follow. He never had a family nor was the one she belonged to really hers.

So many angles in so many vicious cycles. Barrett needs to get an Inquisitor back onto Chandaar which is why this opportunity was presented in such a way – so clever are the Voss-Ra to serve their future leader while leveraging a directive as further means of control over Seif. Stopping Schrag from trying to control Dahlia with their nanotechnology only so that they could do so with her fate and future.

Everything with them is transactional, an exchange of blood for progress.

The Voss-Ra has operated for centuries undetected, using their considerable magic to infiltrate elite groups and governments, arranging matches so that these lines would live on, presenting a new Four for each cycle with the fervent belief that Winton would one day prevail. A long list of family names all traced back to Persephone…and the Etheralis. The intersection of genetic superiority and mystic power beyond comprehension. Even though he did not want to believe it, he knew from the moment he saw Dahlia’s face in the flames that he would go to the ends of the worlds to ensure her safety. She will be the one who frees them from this shared madness.

“Come,” he says. “There is something I must show you.”

Seif returns to the controls as the proximity alarm begins to sound. He eases them out of hyperspace with Coruscant looming in the viewport.

“So pretty.”

His face grows more serious still.

“The power of The Four reformed it but your union with Barrett gave it life once more. Even with The Wheel, a piece of the Etheralis, and the remains of Alexia Winton at its center, Coruscant’s rebirth signifies a new era but therein lies a warning. In order to free us, you must be committed to ending all others. No second thoughts or hesitations.”

That is what got Karen killed. Dahlia reflects back on what Adubell revealed to her – Karen lowering her saber in an attempt to reason with Melanie and being slain for it. Karen knew they were playing someone else’s game but not for how long or who the game masters really were. That is the context the previous Four died never having. But not her. Not now. Dahlia would not lower her guard or be swayed by their past connections. Allies or enemies; the sting of Adubell’s words inflict new pain upon her.

Her old master was right about that too.

No one said she has to kill the others herself. That would be a bad look. Optics play a large part in winning hearts and minds. After all, Karen did not kill Valerie, Melanie, or Kimber. But she also did not survive. As far as she can tell, and Seif has confirmed, plans are already in motion that will orchestrate their demise. The real mystery is if these plans align with a Winton victory or one that a continuously resurrected and no doubt detached Adubell has up her dreadfully dated-looking sleeve.

“Got it. How is Adubell helping them-slash-us? That part I am not clear on and we should be.”

“Erinbol shared that she has introduced instruments of terror into the environment in order to reshape things to come.”

“That is bullshit evasion and only sounds promising until they realize she has an ulterior motive. Are they that bloody stupid?"

“They are not blind to it but allow certain interference in service to the final outcome.”

“Like blowing up the Republic President, perhaps?”

“For starters.”

“My,” Dahlia murmurs, considering how Barrett would react to the news. “This is getting messsssssy."

“Only for the others, if you can deliver on their expectations.”

“Yeah, okay,” she sighs, focusing on a black square marring the lush world north of the equator, fanning out with a golden grid of lights. “What is that? A city?”

“The beginnings of one with a palace at its center.”

She turns, a twinkle in her emerald eyes, “I love palaces.”

“Of course you do but look beyond that for a moment. It is a symbol of their trust in you. A sign of faith. A shrine to your greatness and glory. Believe me when I tell you this is not something they take lightly. They trust in you as I trust in you.”

She steps back, humbled and stunned all at once. It is slightly reassuring that they have placed their faith in her. They have witnessed what she can do and helped to harness her power through extensive and exhaustive training. Dahlia is, for all intents and purposes, ready for this. She has the knowledge, capabilities, and skills required to see it through. That does not erase the lingering doubt about what Adubell is up to. The fact that the Voss-Ra, through Erinbol, left much to the imagination means they either do not know the full scope of her plan or were led to believe otherwise.

“I am honored by that trust even if I do not entirely trust the trust - if that makes sense."

“It does, and I am not asking you to, but you must be prepared to do what must be done."

“I am!”

“Are you really?"

She locks eyes with him, “Yes.”

Convinced, he guides them down through the atmosphere to a landing pad beside the partially assembled tower which is when Seif finally reveals their plan. They would take a shuttle prepared by Imperial allies to gain access to Republic space and their capital world. From there, she would make a surprise appearance before a bitterly divided Senate that would further fracture the very foundation of their principles.

She listens closely and remains quiet for some time after he has finished, ruminating on it as they load up the shuttle. It is not an insignificant task and one that would inevitably incite war from within which is exactly what the Voss-Ra want. Erinbol was not lying about that. Livid as she may be at all the liberties they continue to take, the only way out is through. There is no disputing that. It is a game of "them" or "us" that grows increasingly smaller with each round and they are quickly closing in on the main cast. Seif nods at her and pulls back on the controls, blurring the stars back into that familiar pale swirl of doom. Dahlia dabs gloss on her lips and smacks them together.

True freedom comes at a price and Princess Dahlia is finally ready to make them pay it.

-TBC

Star Wars Sim Forum: Roleplay, Simming and Fan Fiction

WILDSPACE TALES => Star Wars: The Crimson Covenant => Topic started by: Medivh on August 05, 2012, 11:03:27 PM