SAM: Socially Acceptable Monsters

[Syren]

Coruscant



Surface: Imperial Palace

The vid plays seamlessly.

Maxwell and Masterton enter the shot heading for the speeder. The photage is paused when Masterton slows, falling behind Maxwell. Then he turns to face the table full of the Emperor's advisors.

All eyes are on the Director.

"It is here she first senses the disturbance. At this point our agent is on the next block over heading toward the target."

He taps on the photage again.

Masterton seems to be in deep thought, face contorting before snapping into action quicker than they expected she would. She reaches Maxwell in time and pulls him back the moment their agent's craft hits the speeder. The orders had been specific to come from an unseen angle using the roar of the surrounding traffic lanes to cover the approach.

They had to be sure.

The photage continues in the background as he addresses them again.

"This act suggests precognition, a powerful talent that can and will be used to our advantage. The tests done as infants only confirmed the sensitivity and until recently we were uncertain as to what direction each would take their ability. There is an exercise scheduled on Carida which should indicate the range of one Winton. This photage displays both Masterton's awareness and specialty. The Emperor is wise to keep them close. There may be a day he will need their services in ensuring the New Order remains the only order in the galaxy."

There are murmurs from the table.

Behind him, Maxwell and Masterton are talking and gesturing before the tipped off ISP Centurions arrive on scene. The agent had survived the "crash" and the report was filed using a false ID and the scripted story of a businessman leaving a work function after having too much to drink. There was even a staged apology issued by the "company" to both families. No charges would be brought against the "businessman." Henrick and Celeste believe it to be just one of the many dangers of the capital life and are so thankful their precious daughter is unharmed. People will believe anything. They just have to want to bad enough. Two down. One to go. A case must be built around their potential. It will keep them relevant and lucrative to the Empire so that all can transpire as it is written.

Finally, one of the advisors speaks.

"What of the third? The other Winton?"

Alexander flashes the same dazzling smile that has secured him everything in his life. The words of the prophecy burn brightly in his mind with visions of an order to end all orders rising from Palpatine's ashes. Nothing lasts forever and someone must plan for the inevitable fall.

"There will come a day when the other is awarded a chance to prove her purpose."



-TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant



Surface

The call comes through to the Masterton residence in 500 Republica. Celeste answers and casually takes a message before clicking off and keying up Melanie's com channel. She relays the information and tries to gauge her daughters reaction. It sounds promising and she can tell Melanie thinks so too. Celeste hangs up and goes back to her bedroom to mentally prepare for the afternoon session.

In the adjacent Hyperion building, Melanie turns around and screams. The girls hover nearby with expectant looks.

"It was Raga'Ana Haute Couture. The sales girl saw Kimber and I trying on dresses and called the marketing director at corporate. Apparently we "personify the image the company is trying to project" and "wanted to schedule a meeting." They said similar friends may join us."

Melanie's pulse is racing at the notion of setting a standard both in school and life. The ominous capital needs a few rays of sunshine.

Kimber claps her hands together as she bounces alone in the center of the living room. Finally, something that doesn't involve studying.

Karen is stunned but not like, really. This will seal their legacy at North Coruscant for the rest of fucking high school.

Valerie smiles then rolls her eyes, looks away and says she'll think about it. Shamelessly exploitative publicity aside, they will probably get to keep the clothes and those are some precious threads.

"So, should we return the call?"

It is returned within the hour. The meeting is set for the end of the week.

Not too far away in the Imperial Palace, Alexander is late for lunch with Monica and tells the hologram of Major Tanner Graves to proceed as planned. The test will be conducted at the end of the week. There is a message from Henrick on his voicemail but Melanie has already proven herself and more pressing issues beg his attention. His two daughters face challenges. One of combat. One of character. Both will benefit him and further solidify all of their positions. The Empire would have its weapons and the faces to glamorize the horror in just the right way so the public can't get enough. The New Order will consume a whole new demographic. Everybody wins and he'll be crowned father of the year for both discovering things that truly make his family happy and boldly using it to manipulate them.

He calls Monica to cancel who in turn calls Celeste to bitch about it. Vicious cycles.

It is truly a blessed modern age.


-TBC

In two part season finale of Socially Acceptable Monsters - Will Kyri move against Alexander for the murder of Jerico Gellar? Can Monica, Celeste and Henrick be kept in the dark forever? Who knows more than they are letting on? What darkness lies beyond the fashion and fame?

Find out next time on the Galactic HoloNet's leading Holodrama..

Socially Acceptable Monsters.

[Syren]

Series 1 - Season Finale - Part 1



Coruscant

Surface: Glitannai Esplanade: Raga'Ana Corporate Offices

The executives are clipped and professional but more than accommodating to the four "visions" that sit before them. The fiercest of these is the Marketing Director Maxi Marx who towers in front of the stark white minimalist chairs wearing the tightest blue couture suit and perfectly polished round-toe heels those girls have ever seen. She is one of the most powerful women in the Core under thirty and looks like she could praise or pounce at any moment for any reason. Landing her was quite the coup for Raga'Ana since they were in danger of folding at the time. She had been a fan of the lines but always considered their scaled back, non-intrusive methods of marketing combined with the price would be the cause of eventual downfall. When it turned out she was right, she saw an opportunity to be responsible for turning a fading staple into the an elitist beacon of glamour and wealth.

"You know why you are here. It seems our associate was in fact acting out of the company’s best interest when she alerted my office. Security vids of miss Masterton and miss Patten from the store floor was more than enough to convince my colleagues but seeing you now in person, with others who compliment yet add contrast, that I am convinced you all are what we are looking for."

The girls know who is best to respond to this which is why Melanie sits relaxed yet postured in the chair and speaks softly.

"We are deeply honored and highly flattered by your interest. May I ask what specifically you would like us to do for you?"

Maxi's polished lips form a dangerous smile.

"We want you to be our brand, of course. The premiere Imperial fashion house is expected to capture, project and personify all that is style. We can set the standard one season and shatter it the next. You will be the four faces that tell the public exactly what we want them to wear."

Karen makes direct eye contact.

"And who we want them to be."

Maxi nods.

"Exactly. Now we will, of course, need your parents' permission prior to signing a contract."

Valerie tilts her head to the side, "Contract?"

"What would be the terms?" Kimber says.

"You are sharp, ladies. I like that. It's nothing heavy and certainly something we can coordinate with your school schedules. Let me break it down for you. The contract would run the remainder of your terms at North Coruscant and would then be up for renegotiation should you decide to continue in the industry. It would mainly be spring-fall standard with summer-winter specials and the occasional event or premiere. It'll be pretty straightforward your sophomore year but kick into a higher gear for your junior-senior years. We will fully sponsor your outings and style you accordingly. With any luck you'll be able to get into any place at any time as well as be the envy of every girl in the Core."

The words and inflection in which they are spoken dazzles their senses. They are struck numb with the potential influence outside that they wield in their parents' names. It's a chance to do something for themselves not to mention the plethora of perks and doors it will open. They share knowing glances before bringing their eyes to meet Maxi's again.

Karen arches a brow and mirrors the Marketing Directors devious grin.

"Thank you so much for this opportunity. Please have the documents sent to our contacts and we will be in touch."

*

Two weeks later...

Surface: Imperial Palace: Bakur RepulsorCorp suite

Alexander skims over the signed contract. Of course she accepted. As if he had a doubt. As parents, he and Monica taught them to go with their strengths and it just so happens that one obvious talent tends to cover the other even more obvious terror. Between school, fashion and whatever the hell else kids do these days, Karen is properly distracted from all that transpires in the background. Thankfully, Monica keeps herself dazed enough not to ask many questions these days which has eased the household pressure immensely.

Word out of Carida puts a song in his heart. The Emperor is also pleased with the situation.

The door chime sounds, a distant echo throughout the multi-room suite and he already knows who it is. He was alerted as soon as the clearance code was used entering Coruscant. If he was anyone else, he might be afraid of this confrontation but is honestly surprised it's taken them all this long to give him some serious resistance.
Major Kyri Patten strides into the foyer past Alexander.

"It's nice to see you too, Patten. I didn't know you were making a visit to the Core."

The Major stops and turns on a heel that squeals against the slick floor.

"Yes you did."

"I'm sorry?"

The door hisses closed and a dreadful silence fills the space.

"You knew I was coming here. You always know."

"I'm not sure I follow.."

Kyri's jaw tightens as he moves to strike.

"The agent you planted on Corellia is dead. My movements both on and off world are being tracked by the Imperial network and somehow my daughters images will soon be broadcast to all the known worlds. I want to know why. Are you following now, Alex?"

He expected the blunt approach from the Major. Hard line is the only way the man knows how to play it but there is still a limit to what he thinks he knows.

"I don't think I like what you are implying, Patten."

"I'm not implying anything!" he roars. "There is proof, Winton. Evidence my department found."

"And what will you do with it, I wonder?"

"Use it to make you tell me what the hell is going on. We were to spare no detail, remember? Total disclosure if memory serves. Yet somehow I get the feeling we're not being told the whole story. There was no need to murder "Gellar" after he'd already been extracted successfully without some motivation. Valerie must not be more suspicious than she is already. And the modeling contracts? Where in the prophecy does it say our daughters become the poster girls for the Empire?"

"It doesn't. It says those named will be worshiped. Do you see?"

"What I see is a man whose hands we've put our children's fates in who has little to go on beside whispers of an ancient text no one has even seen!"

"What is it you want?"

"I'm trying to understand what your bottom line is, Winton. The prophecy, the ever-watchful Imperial eyes - what's in it for you?"

"The same thing that's in it for all of us."

"Which is?"

"Everything and more. We are men of the Empire, Patten. We have careers, positions and families to build and protect. Many have died for less than being one step ahead of the game. I've ensured we never have to worry and have we? No. CorSec operations flow smoothly at your stern command. Masterton's practice flourishes. My BRC contracts continue the corporate legacy of my father before me. It is because of our children that we avoid being targets ourselves. Palpatine is notoriously paranoid and his closest enforcers ruthless beyond all reason. The last thing anyone wants is Vader making a house call."

"We're using them as shields."

"You make it sound like that has not always been true. Not even the Emperor can deny they each play a significant role in the future. So we keep them safe until we have a better idea of what that may be."

"You still don't know."

"No."

"I don't believe you."

"I don't blame you. Is there anything that I could do to sway you?"

"Show me the prophecy."

"It isn't finished."

Classic Alexander response.

Kyri scoffs disgustedly.

"Translating or writing it? I know the editing process can be the most difficult part. Must have been tough deciding how to tie up all those loose ends. The Gellar's finally handled once and for all and the characters in their respective places."

"You are suggesting something, Major?"

"In fact I am. What's to stop you from writing us out? Lilandra? Henrick? Celeste? For Maker's sake, Monica? I know how far you will go to get what you want. There is genetic evidence to prove it."

It is then Alexander's face hardens as his hands close out of several applications and key up a photage display of several shots taken from various angles of the same scene. The Major stands talking to another human male on a walkway overlooking unmistakable rows of Trade Federation battle droids.

After several seconds Kyri's eyes have registered what they are seeing. There is no covering his surprise and subsequent anger. His suspicions have been confirmed in a way that renders his leverage useless. A shot flashes across the screen showing the Major handing something to the other man. The next shows the other man holding up an object in between two fingers. And the next they shake hands.

"Speaking of genetics and ethics - Since when do you take meetings with MagnaCorp executives?"

"We've dealt with them for years."

"Not like this."

"Be careful, Winton."

"No, Patten. You need to be careful. You come here to call me a liar and accuse me of treachery only to have done the same. We all take measures of protection."

"Some more than others, I see. Well played.”

"Thank you. Obviously it was necessary but I do not place blame. Insurance is comforting, isn't it? Thankfully I also have the luxury of primary and secondary planning. That's the blessing of having multiple children. Masterton is shut out of that one but something tells me he won't need it. Clearly, Melanie is the brains of the bunch. No offense, of course."

"None taken."

"I tell you of the prophecy as it is told to me. All I know is that our children survive whatever is coming as long as they are together.”

“Yet you still don’t know what that something is. Or perhaps you do and withhold it from us for our so-called protection.”

“You know what you need to know for now.”

“What if I disagree?”

Alexander squares his shoulders and taps off the display.

“Then I suppose you can run around waving your evidence of my activities and I could do the same of yours but think about what’s at stake here. If the plan falls apart and the Empire decides to move in a new direction then our efforts will have been for nothing. People could get hurt. Should Valerie and Kimber suffer because of our differences in opinion?”

Kyri grinds his teeth.

A stalemate.

“No.”

“Then I suggest you lay down arms, Major Patten, march your ass back to Corellia and allow things to move forward as planned. With our children safely in the spotlight that will blind both them and the Imperial skeptics, we are free to go and do as we please. The future happens regardless of want or intention. It is our duty as parents and citizens to ensure the end result is favorable for all of us.”

Still, he will not leave without answers.

“Why did you kill him?”

“Who?”

So innocent.

“You know who, Winton!"

There is a touch of a smile to Alexander’s lips.

“Jerico Gellar was no longer content to stick to the script. His primary objectives had been completed and I think we can all agree he did a remarkable job under the circumstances. Valerie was not only accessible to you in every way but grew up to be quite the curious and clever girl.”

“You still aren’t telling me shit, Winton. He was a good man.”

“That he was. Past tense. Although it may seem like there was slight of hand, I assure you it was anything but. I kept his words and actions from you because I knew they would hurt you.”

“More lies?”

Alexander unlocks the second drawer on his desk, digs around and retrieves a datacard which he tosses in Kyri’s direction. It clatters on the floor by the Major’s polished brown boots.

“Hear for yourself. Jerico meant to undermine all we had built. He believed Valerie deserved to know the truth, that she would be better off hurt now by the facts as opposed to later.”

“He’s entitled to that opinion…”

“But to make plans to divulge a secret that wasn’t his to share? I don’t think so. Jerico was going to tell Lilandra. About the affair with Blair, the child she bore, and how she came to be in his possession, so to speak. He was going to ruin your life, Patten. Your career. Your world.”

“He would never….”

“He did. I tried to convince him otherwise but he was dead set. You said yourself he was starting to lose it there at the end. You blamed it on stress, on work, on anything other than the fact that the secret was too much for him to handle. Jerico was beginning to crack. He was a damn good agent but this assignment carried attachment risks. Once he made it clear he was going forward with what he knew, he became too large a liability to manage.”

“You should have come to me with this. I could have talked him down.”

“I don’t think that’s true. He was so far gone when we spoke I was certain he had already let it slip. Loose lips, as they say. One piece of information in the wrong hands could have started a chain reaction. Lilandra would throw you out right before calling to warn Celeste and Monica. Henrick would be up in arms and soon those who keep watch over us have enough to fuel the Emperor’s suspicion. Then we’d all be charged with conspiracy, murdered, and our daughters would be left at the mercy of the Empire.”

Kyri’s mouth drops open. Somehow, the words make sense to him. He does not agree with the practical application but the motive is more solid than the evidence suggests.

“Is that what you want, Patten?”

No matter what he came here with, Winton’s leverage still trumps his own. Acting irrationally could cost him more than he is willing to lose. He reaches to pick up the datacard and slips it into a cargo pocket.

“No.”

“Good. Now please, go do your job and allow me to do mine. No one is the wiser save for you and I. Our wives, our children, are all safe and blissfully ignorant.”

For now.

Alexander makes a persuasive argument. Without enough to move against him, Kyri is left with little option aside from conceding to continue on with the original plan.

“And what of the prophecy? How will I know you are telling me the truth if you refuse to show us the progress?”

“You can watch it happening with your own eyes. My people are working as diligently as they possibly can and if anything should surface that is cause for concern, we will call a meeting to discuss it. For now, I think we should celebrate our children’s successful endeavor and support them as best we can.”

Despite not leaving with the upper hand, Kyri departs newly empowered in light of the conversation. There is no fooling Alexander Winton or any plot or ploy to stop him. They are all in way over their heads and he hates himself for not recognizing it sooner. Alexander has had control since day one and he only hopes the recent lucrative valuation appraised and financially secured by MagnaCorp will not only find a way to spare Kimber but destroy Alexander.

Returning to the office, Alexander lets out a satisfied sigh. Round one in his favor. He saw Patten’s move from a star system away. They all think they know but have no idea because the truth is the ‘whatever’ that's coming isn’t just a vague and distorted menace.

It's Alexia.


-TBC

[Syren]

Series 1 - Season Finale - Part 2



Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City: 500 Republica: Masterton Residence

Celeste hasn't heard from Monica in a month and would be highly offended if work wasn't taking over every aspect of her life. She just put in a seventy-hour work week and for the first time has a moment to herself. The days seem to have flown by. The kids are in the home stretch of freshman year with a spring that is starting to feel a lot like summer. Henrick remains satisfied with the help he provides at the medical center but, like her, spends more time with patients than each other. They agreed to life in the capital because they thought they could help. And while they do help many people it is their relationship that now suffers. They never let their careers or goals get between them in the past but over the course of the last year separate interests have slowly become separate lives. She makes a firm promise to herself to change that. They need to allow time for each other.

The only thing they have been able to focus on together recently is the contract. Raga'Ana is a solid company that commands respectability and when a thoughtful Melanie sat them down to explain her reasoning behind wanting to accept the offer there was nothing left to do but be supportive. Their daughter is no fool. She wants to bring brains into beauty with an open heart in just the right place. After a detailed contract review and a solemn promise from Melanie that she can balance school and a job, Henrick and Celeste happily sign.

Naturally, Celeste wants to gossip about this with Monica. There is a certain excitability in the whole thing. Surely Monica would also see the connection to the prophecy. The girls are destined to be known. Alexander has been telling them that for years. They found each other and have been recognized for it. Everything has happened as it was foretold. Celeste is downright giddy but calls to the Winton residence go unreturned. Work keeps the mounting worry at bay yet a lingering dread creeps in the corners of her mind. Monica had been tenuous about how much of the prophecy had actually come to pass. She could barely remember what she saw in the vision. Faces, flashes, and feelings really. Nothing as promising as what they found on Korriban. The scrolls were supposed to fill in the gaps of her memory. Despite the sluggish process, Celeste had always hoped the translations would trigger details from Monica's vision. Something that would confirm what it says matches what she saw.

The more Celeste's mind wanders across what they have been told, the more she feels something peeking out from behind the periphery. Monica's silence leaves room for this inkling to grow and soon she is digging through her office for the pieces of translation Henrick shared with her. The first warning signs that not everything would be as mellow and balanced as they had been led to believe. Her blue eyes scan the words that hang eternally on the last.

..and on her head the names of blasphemy.

Blasphemy.
Blasphemy.
Blasphemy.

With breath caught in her throat, Celeste reaches for the com to call Henrick.

*

Surface: 500 Republica: Winton Residence

Monica grips the drink tightly as the uneven towers beyond the wraparound windows blur out of focus. She has officially stopped talking. To her husband. To her best friend. Even her children. Well, the one that's still around. It's like her family no longer knows she exists. They carry on with their days as if she were a ghost. Alexander is always at work or in a funk. Karen is more selfish and spoiled than she ever thought possible and until recently, she thought Alexia might actually be getting some help.

If she's learned anything from her life, the move to the Core and this forsaken marriage is that nothing is ever what it seems.

Shockingly, it was Karen who first tipped her off. In one of the rare conversations they actually had with each other, Karen mentioned something about a girl at school, some actress, who said she heard that Alexia had an affair with a faculty member and dropped out. She remembers it distinctly because Karen said it in such a casual way. Like it happened all the time. Perhaps it did. While Monica was careful not to divulge the dodgy reputation Alexia already had at North Coruscant, the affair part was news to her. Typically, Karen did not pursue the topic further but Monica felt there was more beneath the surface of the statement. All information in relation to the "accident" in the Alumni building earlier this year is somehow classified. She supposes it isn't so strange, what with the rampant liability lawsuits these days. Yet something lingers. The same way something lingers for Celeste but she wouldn't know that. Bitch ain't talking. Consumed with this piece of unshared gossip, Monica takes up tracing a line through when things went wrong. Alexia's troubled childhood, the move, the bouts of aggression, the following years of peace, the upstart at North Coruscant and finally, boarding school off world.

It is then two things strike her simultaneously.

1) She hasn't seen her eldest daughter in nearly seven months

and

2) She does not even know the name of the school she attends.

Surely someone must have said something. A mention here, a note there? Nope. Nothing. Monica draws a complete blank. What kind of a mother doesn't know something like that? Doesn't call? Doesn't write? Doesn't attempt a visit? The kind of mother who doesn't really want to know, already knows, or doesn't care.

Monica Greyson-Winton is having trouble deciding which is why she makes another.

Staggering away from the bar across the sunken living room, she narrowly avoids both the coffee table and a plant she does not remember putting there. Halfway down the hall she rethinks the heels but only manages to get one off and hobbles sloppily the rest of the way. She hurls the shoe across the room and storms to the bedside, firing up that inner suspicion directed at her very suspicious husband. She fingers through an expensive and impossibly slim purse before finding the com-link. In a display of effort that would impress the gods, she manages to key up Alexander's channel.

"Honey, I know I'm late. Crazy day at the offi-"

"Spare me, Alex. Where is she?"

"Probably out spending our credits this very minute."

"That I know. Our other daughter, however, not so much. So I repeat, where is she?"

"Alexia?"

"You have more than two? Forgive me if I don't drop dead of surprise."

"Funny, Mon. I think your hilarity is directly related to your alcohol intake."

"So I've heard. Are you going to tell me?"

"We've been over this-"

"I don't think we have. Where did you send her, Alex? Just tell me where. It's all I want to know."

There is a longish pause. Monica utilizes the opportunity for another sip.

"Carida and there isn't a damn thing you can do about it."

Then he hangs up on her.

Several days pass before she finally brings herself to confirm it. Two out of three. Not bad. She didn't want to know but knew. Alexander sent their daughter to an Imperial training Academy. No specialized boarding school that catered to behavioral problems. She should have expected this kind of imaginative manipulation from him by now. So much seems to have been conveniently omitted. What else has been stricken from the record? How many lies does one have to tell before it becomes the truth?

He has his secrets. She begins to discover some of her own.

On nights alone in bed she dreams of a madness bathed in flame.

A girl in black leaves a room filled with screams and blood. Death is the price for her to live. There is a desperation in the sands of the dark place. It calls to them. To her. The girl in black stops in front of a robed figure and the beneath the robe glow eyes a brilliant blue. Electric. Magnetic. And she reaches for him and the world falls away. Somewhere in the distance, an infant wails. They are the end of all things. But there is hope and she is among them.

The girl in white.

*

Surface: Galactic City: North Coruscant High

The first wave of the new Raga’Ana campaign has hit the market. It is designed to pique public interest and involves a close-up shot of each girl focusing on a different feature - Karen’s emerald eyes, Melanie’s golden curls, Kimber’s button nose, and Valerie’s full lips - with a caption below each that reads:

Who is she? Find out: Fall 2ABY

At school, the buzz is massive. Classes fade into easily manageable blocks of time that build toward finals. The upcoming summer break has everyone in a much better mood and the girls revel in the newfound attention of their peers. The NCH Chin-Bret team, the Coruscant Crusaders, won city-state championship thanks to Reef scoring the final goal with seconds to spare. The rest of the crew continues to solidify their bonds with each other as some friendships border on angst-y and flirtatious. The semester ends on a high note for everyone. Clueless and happy about it. When the girls walk through HOME2 on the last day of school, they fall into an evenly spaced line that the whole school seems to make way for.

Carli Cole, having been in and out of class all semester due to the filming schedule on the Maranski movie, leans against a row of lockers and turns to her friends.

“Behold, the Fearsome Four.”

*

Corellia

Surface: Coronet: CorSec Headquarters

Major Kyri Patten sits alone in his office as the recording plays. These are Imperial interrogation tapes. In them "Jerico Gellar" growls and spits out his intent to take down Alexander Winton's operation and effectively compromise Kyri and Lilandra Patten. The bastard was right. The whole thing would have come crashing down. On the recording there is weeping and gnashing of teeth.

"Kimber will never forgive him...will never forgive you....no one, no one will be forgiven.."

During one of the more colorful periods Jerico can be clearly heard screaming.

"Valerie deserves to know! You can't do this to her! You caaahhhhhhh..you can't....! Ahhhhhh! Ah! AHH! She deserves to knoooooooooooww-"

The tape cuts into a hiss of static.

It has all gone too far to stop.

Kyri places a hand over his eyes and lowers his head.

[Syren]

Series 2 – Models and Mortals

Hesperidium

Surface

The Hessy is where the tragically hip summer.

This is their Mecca of decadence and relaxation – a tropical paradise the rich and famous flock to when things start to drag. Years ago, when the girls were still very young, Alexander Winton and Henrick Masterton decided to throw in together on a real estate venture. Through various contacts they were able to secure a prime spot on the then-sparsely populated Imperial Beach. It was a section of land on a small peninsula that extends down in every direction to gorgeous white-sand beaches. After permits were issued and contracts signed, construction began on the Bolerathon Tower. It took nearly two years for everything to be completed to their satisfaction. The residences were designed by the most expensive architects and interior designers who were instructed to maintain an upscale model with a carefree feel. The top of the tower was divided into only two massive residences for those who owned the building. Thus the Masterton and Winton suites were created on its own Penthouse level separated by a wide tiled hall and lounge that could only be accessed by unlocking the floor. Security was hired based on excellent referrals through the Imperial network with a minimal but highly trained detail to patrol the Penthouse level exclusively.

One can never be too careful.

The residences within the Bolerathon filled up quickly with the heiresses, business moguls and occasional arms dealer more than happy to shell out the phenomenal asking price for such a location. The Winton’s and Masterton’s vacationed there often and so summers came and went until the present summer at hand.

There is one massive alteration to the script.

This year, Alexander and Henrick decide to take their lovely yet increasingly difficult wives to the Outer Rim but drop the girls off on Hesperidium as promised. A whole summer without parents seems like the perfect present for an affluent teenager but it is merely a foreshadowing of things to come.

The Winton Residence @ Bolerathon Tower is quite an impressive space. Vaulted ceilings, large framed rectangular transparasteel bay windows, plush casually chic furniture, a massive wraparound terrace, and more bedrooms than anyone knows what to do with. The kitchen is stocked, Imperial Credit Cards on the table and nothing to do except two shoots and not much else.

Perfect setup. Perfect smokescreen.

*

1100

"The liquor cabinet is locked."

Karen turns to find Valerie looking disappointed. She and Kimber have been granted permission to stay on Hesperidium until the first shoot after which they would head to Corellia for a few weeks then return for the second shoot and fall semester at NCH. This took less convincing than anticipated.

Valerie is standing there waiting for something.

Karen pretends she didn't hear her, "I'm sorry?"

There is a flash of annoyance.

"Oh, come on. Practice makes perfect. How are we supposed to be hard partying seniors if we don't build up a tolerance now?"

"Cute. Did Reef share that poignant piece of information with you?"

"He may have mentioned it."

"I'm sure. Just how close are you two?"

"Close enough."

"There is something to be said for maintaining a little mystery."

"I'll take it under advisement and issue a memo to Skyler quoting you on that, thanks."

Melanie and Kimber happen upon the scene looking ready for serious beach time.

"What did we miss? More snappishness?"

"Wonderful. What's the big deal now?"

"Creative differences," Valerie says, glancing to Karen. "Well? About the cabinet?"

Karen sighs, "We'll work it out."

"Great, the boys will be here at eight. Thanks, Kar. Love ya, mean it. Buh-bye."

"Valerie!"

"Hold that thought, gotta change!"

Melanie whirls around to face Karen.

"What cabinet? Surely not the one I think it is because I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Why are you always jumping to conclusions like that?"

"So I'm wrong then?"

"That is so beside the point. Kim, we need you to weigh in here."

Kimber blinks, glancing around. The girl could not be more perplexed.

"We probably shouldn't. Someone might...tell."

"Tell who?" Valerie says, sweeping back into the room adjusting a bikini top. "Anyone who might care is way the fuck in the outer rim."

Kimber points to the door, "I'm sure the bored security team around here would just love a good story to report. It's like three transmissions away from me being lectured! My father will totally flip out if we get out of control."

"Excellent point," Melanie says, "They are putting a fair amount of trust in us."

"And we're not violating it. We're just having a little get-together. You know, intimate friends, intimate gathering."

"Not too intimate, I hope."

"Relax, reverend mother. No one is asking you to get frisky without consent. But at the very least consider it. Lucas is probably packing."

"Packing....what?"

Valerie and Karen share a laugh while Kimber scoffs and turns away. She finds this kind of talk flustering. They finally set out for a day at the beach but wind up on lounge chairs below massive umbrella's. The view can be enjoyed without sun damage. No one likes a charbroiled model. Once the ocean roar and salty air settles over them - everything just falls away. Nothing else exists except for them and a whole hell of a lot of blue sky. Then someone's com bleeps, a reminder of where and who they are.

Valerie rummages through a beach tote and pulls out the device. She scans it over but her face remains a mask. After slamming it closed and tossing it back into the bag, she lowers her sunglasses and smirks.

"The Alliance tried to stir up some shit on Corellia. They blasted out of hyperspace and broadcast a message before recalculating and jumping again. Defenses weren't able to reach them in time and no physical damage was done but it riled some of the locals. Got people talking."

Kimber sits upright quickly, completely horrified.

"Seriously? Is everyone alright?"

"I just said no damage! See, this is why the Major never tells you shit. You practically have a seizure."

"You say shit too much. Maybe it's time for a new word."

"Maybe it's time for you to form an opinion."

Karen moves between them, "Hey! Just answer the question, Val. Are they cool or what?"

"Yeah, everyone is fine. Wonderful, in fact. They send their love."

Melanie clears her throat, "What did the message say?"

"Huh?"

"The message from the Alliance. What did it say?"

Valerie shrugs, "Some shi, er, stuff about breaking free of our Imperial shackles. Started some serious discussions in Parliament. Bunch of bantha fodder. The whole lot of them. All talk and no action. Everyone needs to be respected while whining about it though. Like it's going to save them when it counts."

"So what are you saying? Like, no Parliament?"

"Why not? We're not bloody stupid! The Corellian Sector could totally stand on its own."

"Of course it can but it carries more clout and military power under the Empire. Allies are everything."

Valerie pretends to gag. Kimber puts her hands over her face.

Melanie waves her arm across the air.

"Wait a microsecond. Who is going to lead this Parliament-less Corellia sans alleged Imperial might?"

"Who do you think? I'm all about free thinking just as long as it doesn't make me look or sound bad in any way, shape or form. Haters can eat a dick."

"Wow," Karen says, semi-stunned, "You can put that in your campaign speech when you run for heartless bitch of the year."

"Wouldn't dream of stealing your spotlight, copper top."

Melanie shakes her head, "That would make you just like the Emperor."

"Like Palpatine's got such a raw deal. Power, possession and connections - bought and paid for. And how did he swing it? Probably by doing something terrible because, let's face it, that's how most people get what they want. They compromise something."

"Or someone. Is that what you would do? Compromise?"

"Screw mystery. It's all about opportunity."

"Yes, to be different! Not everybody wants more of the same."

Valerie rears back, satisfied with this response.

Melanie crosses her arms and turns over.

Kimber is clearly fretting, head filled with Alliance attacks and Corellian upset.

Karen leans back into the lounge chair and laughs.

The entertainment value alone is worth the price of admission.

"Not to break up this fascinating lesson in dirty Rebels and dictatorships but we've got a party to get ready for. Let's try and prioritize."

*

1400

Back at Bolerathon Tower, Karen and Valerie nap and shower in the Winton suite while Melanie and Kimber cross the hall to the Masterton suite. In comparison, the Masterton suite is a stark white museum. All look and no touch. The similarities between house and owner are lost on the hugely self-absorbed. A multi-ring chandelier takes up most of the ceiling in the foyer and gives the impression of diving into water. The individually carved shells that hang from the fixture are like bubbles rising to the surface. Kimber stands beneath it for almost five minutes, completely engrossed in her own imagination.

*

2000

They are dressed to kill as the door chime sounds. Let's hear it for the boys.

Karen made sure to clear them all with security before they arrived knowing how protective her father has been since Alexia left. Normally, she would loathe the gesture and claim it was stifling her independence but the parental units have been surprisingly supportive and relaxed over the past several months. Even the Masterton's haven't been so uptight. No one gets in the way. In fact, they are barely around at all. It's all very strange and intoxicating but she is determined not to hinder the upward momentum of the group.

Cue the electronic beats.

Skyler, Billy and Lucas wander through and say hello, commenting on how lovely the girls look this evening. Formality goes a long way. Reef trails them accompanied by an auburn haired girl.

How did she get in? Access to this level has to be authorized.

Valerie's eyes narrow into slits of jealousy. Kimber perks up, sensing imminent drama. Melanie is still wondering what Lucas could be packing. Karen is about to call Reef out but notices the girl is wearing couture with fierce colors. Bold choice but tis the season. The others take notice too. Credibility is instantly established. Some more than others.

Reef smiles, "Everyone, this is D'Arcy Saunders. We bumped into each other at the spaceport."

"Did you? How....nice."

"Actually," Skyler says, "I bumped into her. Knocked her down. My fault, completely spacing it. Turns out-"

"She has a place in BT," Karen concludes.

This legitimizes her presence in the building but not the floor. Valerie is now staring vibroblades at Karen which derails the train of thought. An unfortunate oversight is made.

"Oh she does, does she? I don't remember seeing her on the list."

"Val, simmer. Her father is Ty Saunders."

Kimber twirls a strand of hair around a pinkie finger, "That loud analyst guy who is all over the HoloNet finance channel? He's got that show, um, what is it? Crazed Credit, right?"

D'Arcy flashes a warm smile.

"The one where he screams at you to buy and sell? Yup, that's the one. Pretty obnoxious isn't he?"

"Not at all," Melanie says. "Just a bit outspoken. He has given some pretty lucrative tips over the years from what I hear. I must apologize for the skepticism. We're not as aggressive as we appear to be."

"Speak for yourself," Valerie quips. Reef rolls his eyes.

"It's all good. I dig the loyalty vibe. I think I actually met you before, Karen. Some random summer like eons ago."

She nods, "Yeah, we were like ten. I didn't see you much after that though. Where did you go?"

"All over. Mostly mid-rim territories. My mother is a big believer in culture and travel but all that moving around wasn't really a stable environment. Their words, not mine. I went to school in several different places and it was all good in the diversity department but in the end my parents decided to get serious and return to the Core."

"So," Kimber says, "You are going to stay local?"

"Looks like. You guys are from the capital, right? What part?"

"Uh, part? Just, you know, around Galactic City."

"Well, what school do you attend?"

Karen and Melanie exchange uneasy glances. They know what the name means and most of the time are more than happy to throw it around. Now it just doesn't seem appropriate. No one wants to be labeled so quickly. Karen speaks lowly, barely a whisper.

"North....Coruscant High."

D'Arcy laughs, "I knew it."

"That obvious, huh?"

"Yes but you can chill out. Billy already told me on the way up and I wanted to prove a point. Sorry. I'm attending in the fall. Apparently, it's unrivaled in academic excellence. Again, not my words. My dad's industry connections scored me a spot. I'm going to need a crash course in private school politics so I guess it's a good thing I got run over by your friend here."

Skyler smiles sheepishly.

Karen nudges him playfully and turns to D'Arcy.

"We'll make sure you are up to speed."

"Thanks. I don't know many people around here anymore."

"You do now. Welcome to our world."

Reef steps into the center of the crowd, "Now that we're past the veiled threat portion of the conversation, let's take it up a couple of notches."

Everyone's attention is on him. He turns to face the hostess.

"Was I to understand there would be cocktails?"

Ignoring Kimber's fearful expression and Melanie judgmental stare, Karen makes a command decision not to be such a square.

"You understood correctly."

*

2100

They are spread out around the kitchen staring at the tall rectangular liquor cabinet. Still locked. Karen has tried every code she's ever known her father to use. She thought she knew them all. Her parents are so predictable in the things they remember and hold onto. Not this time, apparently.

"There has got to be a way," Reef declares.

"Is it really worth it at this point?"

"I dunno," Lucas says, "I've worked up a thirst in all this anticipation."

After a moment of deliberation, Karen turns on sling-back heels and stomps out of the room only to return five minutes later with a small personal blaster. They said for emergency's and in the moment it qualifies. She stops in the middle of the kitchen, aims at the black locking mechanism on the cabinet and fires twice.

Kimber gasps, "You like, broke it!"

The destroyed lock clatters to the floor.

"I'll buy another one."

Melanie grabs a bottled water and walks out of the room. Valerie is nodding victoriously.

Karen pulls open the cabinet to reveal the stash of a gentleman. Only the best. She grabs a bottle and turns around.

Bottle in one hand, blaster in the other.

"Who wants a drink?"

*

2300

Empty bottles and cups litter the tiled countertops. Music blares loudly throughout the residence. All pretense has been drown. It may or may not have been between the second bottle of rum and third round of shots. No one is really sure of anything other than mission accomplished.

Kimber and Billy are hitting it off nicely until she bursts into tears and disappears into one of the bedrooms. Melanie leaves Lucas dancing in the living room to investigate and catches Reef and Valerie making out against a wall in the foyer. Figures. Shaking her head, she tries three different rooms before she finds Kimber standing in a guest bathroom sobbing right before she throws up and falls down. Melanie spends the next two hours convincing Kimber that Valerie is not going to die.

Meanwhile, out on the terrace, Karen shivers as the ocean breeze cools her skin. Skyler slips a sweater over her shoulders and smiles. She is pretty sure they are both drunk but manage to hide it well. He holds her hand. She feels woozy. The darkness beyond is blurred by wisps of gray fog that float and curl across the air. She feels something she doesn't know what to do with so they stand in a comfortably numb silence.

The music drifts from the residence and beckons them.

Inside, D'Arcy is trying to pull Billy into the center of the living room where Lucas is still dancing. Karen leads Skyler toward the group and moves her hips, raises her arms and turns to face him. Billy relents and dances with D'Arcy.

Club Exclusive is in full swing.

And in a guest bedroom at the end of the hall, Valerie slaps Reef and pushes him down onto the bed. He protests and acts like he's upset but she's done playing games with this fool. She tells him if he wants to get lucky he'll do himself a favor and stop talking. Reef stops protesting, bewildered, excited and terrified as he gives in.

Nothing like the first time.

[Syren]

((Apparently there is a limit to how much you can post at one time.))

*

0000

In the Penthouse corridor, security operatives pass each other during patrol. Interior and exterior coverage is provided. Orders are to protect the Imperial assets under the highest authority. They were given four names and a series instructions. No additional information was provided. Imperial Intelligence has a way of making details scarce.

A particularly handsome operative strides through the hall reviewing the building sign in sheet. He taps the remote com in his ear.

"All players accounted for, sir. Sending confirmation now."

Agent Scott St. Claire clicks off, steps into the lift and wonders just how much trouble four little girls could possibly get into.


-TBC

[Syren]

Bakura

Surface: Salis D’aar: Bakur RepulsorCorp Headquarters

Doctor Henrick Masterton leaves the medical conference early to surprise Alexander for lunch. They had dropped the kids off on Hesperidium then their wives on Naboo before heading to Bakura to handle some business. The conference is on a new procedure to relieve chronic pain which many of his patients in the Core suffer from. Alexander, however, meets with BRC quarterly to discuss his progress on the capital. The continual expansion of his contracts there has generated more profits than the company has seen in its history.

Henrick is waved through building security having been a familiar face throughout Alexander’s rise to corporate power -a best friend, personal physician and partner in crime. He enters the lifts which take him to the BRC executive floor. The place is surprisingly quiet for the middle of the day but it is just as well. Hopefully that means it isn’t too busy and the friends would be able to grab a meal in peace. He knows how much these meetings tend to aggrivate Alex.

He slows his pace as he approaches the office. The tone of voice leaking out into the hall is enough to give him serious pause. Henrick stops just outside the door and can clearly see Alexander standing in front of a small holoprojection of what appears to be a teenage boy. Henrick is not close enough to make out the boy’s features but can tell they have been arguing.

“I don’t care who you are traveling with just make sure you are there. She must be redirected and it must appear coincidental. Improvise if you have to. This is not up for discussion. Is that clear?”

The boy crosses his arms and nods.

“Good. Have a nice summer.”

Alexander angrily taps off the projection and turns around to find Henrick looking stunned.

“Hello, my friend. What a surprise!”

“I came to take you to lunch,” Henrick says, slipping into the office further. “That is, if you are available.”

“I just finished with the last of my business and we can go now if you would like.”

“That would be great. Is everything alright?”

“Of course, Rick. Why wouldn’t it be?”

“You sounded upset and he looked a bit young to be an employee.”

Alexander smiles quickly, “Transmissions can be deceiving. He’s supposed to pick up a potential BRC client in the Core and running behind schedule.”

“Well, I do hope he makes it in time.”

“Time is money, after all. How was the conference?”

"It's going great, thanks."

Doubt would not normally linger but after the concerns Celeste brought to his attention just before they left Coruscant, he is starting to feel somewhat ill about the whole thing. He does not want to accuse his best friend of anything without proof but his behaviors are making it difficult to maintain neutrality. Henrick had been able to quell Celeste’s worry for the time being but knows that if these suspicious occurances continue he would be forced to have a discussion with Alexander.

For now, he lets it go and follows him back down to the main plaza. Over lunch they talk about their separate dealings. Henrick shares the insight he learned at the conference and his confidence in its successful implementation into his practice at the medical center. Alexander briefly summarizes the series of “ridiculous” and “unnecessary” meetings he’d been in all morning to forecast the financial projections of BRC for the next quarter.

Lunch at a local bistro is spectacular. By the time they have finished, Henrick has nearly forgotten about the earlier conversation. He really should not let his wife’s active imagination affect his friendships. Laughing at himself, he bids Alexander farewell until later that evening and returns to the convention center to conclude the conference.

Alexander walks steadily across the plaza toward the BRC building. His com vibrates in his pocket and he answers it briskly.

“Winton.”

“All players accounted for, sir. Sending confirmation now.”

“Good,” he says with a devious grin, “I’ll be expecting it shortly.”


-TBC

[Syren]

Naboo

Surface: Lake Country

The scenery is breathtaking.

Wide meadows of tall grass and wildflowers seem to dance in the summer breeze. Several Shaak’s can be seen grazing in the distance and beyond them the dull roar of waterfalls cascading elegantly off the mossy hills into the crystalline lakes below. The Greyson Villa is nestled in the lush hills of Varykino Island and is accessible only by Gondola-speeder. Everything in that region of Naboo is isolated. Such is the appeal. People come here to abscond from society for a while and frazzled parents escaping the Imperial capital are no exception. Still, there is work to be done but Monica and Celeste refuse to accompany Alexander and Henrick to Bakura and instead remain confined within the comforting tranquility of the villa. The women kept up appearances for the insanely long journey but shared enough knowing glances to understand that a discussion was coming.

Once their husbands have gone, Monica finally turns to Celeste and sighs.

“Forgive my silence, I've been a terrible friend."

“Only if you honestly share what has you in such a state. It's not like us to go so long without speaking. We've had our moments but this is bordering on the ridiculous. A whole month felt like years. I was worried."

Monica smiles, heading for the kitchen.

"Tell me about it. I've been in agony over it. Over everything."

"Anything you want to talk about?"

"I was just about to ask you the same question. You seem particularly opinionated today. I still think and feel the same way I always have."

Normally this is the point in the conversation where Celeste would tell her to take a step back and view the situation objectively. To rationalize her thoughts and actions to know whether or not it's all in her head. Not this time. Celeste slows her step and falls behind.

Monica turns with a bottle of wine in hand.

"Cel, sweetie? What's wrong? Red or white?"

"White. These feelings you've been having...."

"Yes?"

"They are directed at someone specific?"

"The usual suspect."

Celeste glances down quickly. Monica uncorks the bottle effortlessly, pours two large glasses and drifts toward her best friend.

"I'm sensing you feel something too."

"It frightens me."

"What does, darling?"

Celeste's voice is but a gentle whisper.

"Your husband."

The gaze between them is heavy and knowing. Monica tips her glass against Celeste's.

"I'll toast to that."

"Mon, this isn't meant to be amusing. You've been having doubts off and on for years. There wasn't really enough of your vision or the prophecy to know for sure. Nothing to go on but what he said. And we listened."

"I used to listen too."

"I feels like a shadow has suddenly fallen over our happiness."

"Nothing this good can last forever."

Celeste laughs hollowly and swallows half the glass.

Monica smirks and finishes off her own. It took her long enough but everyone works at their own pace. Celeste is finally suspicious. She and Henrick have been talking psychobabble bullshit around what she's suspected for years. Alexander used to be brash and outgoing but never before had she witnessed him become so singularly obsessed with one plan. No one gets that anxious unless something huge is at stake. But she let it ride, she believed in what she thought she saw, what they uncovered, and what that meant for all of them. Set for life. It was all so perfect, so fitting, and far too good to be true.

For every action taken there is a price - A sacrifice for every step forward.

"May I ask what started you in this direction?"

Celeste frowns and begins to wander down the open air corridor. Monica follows but takes the bottle with her. There is a cool breeze that floats between the wide pillars to moisten their skin against the heat. After a few moments of walking in peace, Celeste manages to get it out. Her speech is soft and fluid.

"Something we already knew. It was right in front of us the whole time. Weeks ago on the capital I was buried in work and worried about you. I kept thinking about this whole year and how everything seemed to accelerate since the children started school. Then this Raga'Ana deal made me realize how busy everyone is. The girls have academics and activities. Henrick is swamped with patients. My client list swells with referrals. Patten is increasingly needed at CorSec and hardly comes to the Deep Core. Alexander travels more often for business. You have been a fortress in your own solitude..."

Celeste shakes her head and places a hand upon her chest.

"...then I went looking for the transcription Alexander gave Henrick. The words that initially won us over held the warning. I had only seen it once, years and years ago when he brought back the scrolls. I suppose I was too excited about the prospect of having offspring that would somehow shape the worlds we knew. I don't know. In that excitement I saw past what was really there. I saw what you have been questioning all along. What exactly are our daughters meant for?"

This is difficult for her. Celeste wanted so badly to believe the best of things to come. So badly that their children were meant for good. To shape things for the better. She had never once considered that the road to the future may be marred by something darker. Something less noble and virtuous than Celeste and Henrick had hoped. They had been blinded by the build-up.

The word is branded into her mind.

"It says they are the names of blasphemy, Monica. It means our children are irreverent toward something considered sacred or inviolable. It means they will claim the acts of deities. With the sensitivity in our families I shutter to think what that might mean. Or what ramifications these things might have."

"For all of us."

"Alexander swore this would make them invaluable to the Empire yet blasphemy against it would make them a threat."

"That is, if he told Palpatine the truth about what was written in the prophecy."

"How could he lie? Surely the Emperor would see through the ruse."

Monica considers this while refilling both their glasses. She sets the bottle down and motions for Celeste to sit beside her on the step down into the garden. Several moments pass lost in the sounds and scenery that take them back to a time when all was as colorful and calming as Naboo.

Finally, she turns and levels with Celeste.

"Sweetie, he may be a man of great power but he is still just a man. He can feel it just as we do. The girls are special.  No denying that. But the 'how' and 'why' are still vague concepts to all of us until the text is translated into something more definitive. Something that will answer questions some may not want answered. If what you are saying is true and it indeed contradicts Palpatine's vision then we're living on borrowed time. It means Alexander is tailoring what the prophecy says to appease the Emperor and keep us all safe until he figures out what the hell we're going to do. But do you honestly think he does this solely to protect us?"

"I dare say I am at a loss...."

"So much of what he does is double-sided. Always another edge."

"Then what should we do? What can we do? This is no way to live. How do we put an end to this wondering?"

"There is a way, a way to know for sure if Alexander has lied to us all."

Celeste turns sharply.

Monica's dark eyes reflect a chilling determination.

"I'm going to steal the prophecy."


-TBC

[Syren]

Hesperidium

Surface: Keoki Island

The Raga'Ana photage shoot is broken into two days and two different locations. The first is a beach/jungle spread on the island sixty-five kilometers off the coast of Imperial Beach.

Agent St. Claire leads a small security detail who forms a perimeter around the staging area. Three white tents serve as wardrobe, make-up and equipment storage.

Maxi Marx cracks the whip of perfection which motivates the girls to get it right. This is all about the group aspect. The four of them as a team, a brand unto themselves. They wear the latest for the upcoming fall season. Organic pants, skirts and jackets. Earth tones dominate the line. Lots of beige. There is a vaguely militant style to the outerwear that still somehow remains feminine. Maxi then pairs them off to pose and strut as they walk out of the reeds and grasses that line the beach or slouch seductively against the tropical foliage.

The ads will hit the Holo shortly before fall semester.

It takes six hours to get through the entire line before everyone heads back to the mainland as the sun slowly slips below the horizon.

*

Surface: West Iobatese Beach

The following evening, the girls grab a light dinner at Bistro Bibliotheca then saunter over to Club Hex. The six blocks leading up to the boardwalk are considered 'downtown' for Hesperidium. It's the center of all that happens on the resort moon. Posh boutiques, bistros, galleries, and nightclubs lure the wealthy out into the open.

It's freezing inside the club and no one seems to know why. This shoot showcases the signature eveningwear and includes individual spoken pieces from each girl. These ads will be the staple of Raga'Ana's image and broadcast to every system in the known universe.

Expand the market share in more ways than one. The lines, like the Empire, must appear attractive to all who behold it. This will further generate revenue for the company while appealing to a demographic largely overlooked by Palpatine’s Order. It is an all-encompassing Imperial marketing strategy and the girls hit their marks and say their lines without question.

The still shots will be splashed on billboards across Coruscant while the filmed scenes used as a series of commercials. Each one will be reworked to highlight a specific girl. There will be five commercials total, the last integrating shots from both this shoot and the first.

The swirl of lights and lasers over a crowd zeros in on four girls at different locations of the packed warehouse-style club.

Running in heels.

Lots of leg.

Smiles.

Dancing.

Turning, tilting and a copious amount of hair flipping.   

A pop song from another time blasting.

Highly glossed lips purring.


"We are living in an Imperial world and I am an Imperial girl."

Miss Imperial.

The Collection - only by Raga'Ana.

It's all so beautiful and easy and over before anyone knows it. Maxi and the crew shower them with praise. There wasn't so much as a tantrum! It is a rarity in the modeling world. Someone always has a breakdown and must be sent flowers. Not these girls. They are bent on maintaining an air of class and professionalism at all times and because of this, the shoot wraps in under two hours. Needless to say this is some kind of record and everyone goes gaga over it.

Agent St. Claire rolls his eyes and groans. After the well-wishing, screaming and squealing laughter fades, he finds them all sitting on a white couch surrounded by an obscene amount of roses. Once they manage to exit the room, which takes more skill and patience than necessary, St. Claire's detail escorts them home.

*

Surface: Bolerathon Tower

They are giddy as they step off the lift onto the Penthouse floor. St Claire bids them goodnight. They ignore him. The first shoot was an amazing success for everyone. They float on this cloud of achievement, drifting through the possibilities of such exposure. The outfits have already been sent over by Raga'Ana and lay perfectly folded in boxes on the kitchen table. Names have been placed on each to avoid unnecessary confusion. Karen divides them up into piles. Valerie strides into the kitchen and returns with a bottle of champagne.

No one protests. The feeling is too good.

She pops the cork and pours it into four flutes.

"To us."

Karen, Kimber and Melanie smile broadly as they touch their glasses against Valerie's.

It is the beginning of something wonderful.

Wonderful and dangerous.


-TBC

[Syren]

Hesperidium

Surface: Bolerathon Tower

sense something, copper top?

Winton Suite

The com bleeps around eight-thirty. Karen has been closely inspecting her face in a mirror for the past hour to ensure there are no visible pores. Checking the incoming channel, she laughs and taps on the consol.

A small image of her father appears.

"Good evening, honey. I'm not calling at a bad time, am I?"

"Nope. What's up? How are things on Naboo?"

"Everything is great. Doctor Masterton and I returned from Bakura last week."

"How's mom?"

"She's...good. It takes a bit time to truly unwind and relax. How are you doing? I trust all is well?"

Karen smiles, mildly touched by the concern. Maybe they really had turned over a new leaf somewhere in the time after Alexia left. She isn't as emotionally high maintenance as her sister and doesn't need as much oversight. Karen wonders if they had recognized her determination and thus allowed creativity to flow freely. They had been a lot more trusting with her lately.

"The BT is still standing. Val and Kim left for Corellia yesterday so Melanie and I have been at the beach getting that summer reading done. We're on the second novel. I don't know how I let her talk me into AP ImpLit."

"She knows you can do it, sweetie. I know you can too. Keep at it and you'll be able to get into any university in the galaxy."

"Hell-O! Can we save the college discussion until after standardized testing?"

Alexander laughs heartily, "Of course. I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to pressure you. I just know you have the potential to go far. Be mindful of your studies. You will need them later."

"Sure but right now, I'm on vacation."

"Which reminds me, how did the photage shoot go?"

"Beyond amazing. You should see the outfits."

"Out..fits? Was there a problem with the size?"

Karen gapes at his cluelessness, "It means I spend less of your credits on clothes."

"Well, that's wonderful news."

"I thought you might like that. Anyway, the boards should go up on Coruscant at the end of the season. We have to go back for the second shoot and the Maranski premiere. It was Maxi's idea but it is just a movie. Our first red carpet situation is actually happening."

"No after parties."

"Dad, they know we're minors. All we are required to do is put on a couture gown, walk in a line past a zillion flashing cameras in heels and not fall down then sit in a theater and watch a flick. It's entertainment not espionage. St. Claire will take us home afterwards just like he did for the first shoot."

Alexander's expression is difficult to gauge through the hologram.

"Agent St. Claire is my eyes and ears while I am out of the Core. He is there to protect you so I expect you girls to listen to him."

"We do. Why what did he say?"

"He says although you are surprisingly compliant there is an inordinate amount of sass."

"What can I say? I'm a sassy gal."

"Just be careful."

Karen nods, "I will. Say hi to the Masterton's and give my love to mom."

"Will do, sweetie. Goodnight."

She taps off, stands and pads out of the room. It was nice of him to check up on them. Not like anything is really going on. She didn't cop to the liquor cabinet incident because the lock has been replaced and the door permanently propped open. Reef has a fake and routinely stocks it each time he visits. She will have him replace the original contents, which Melanie insisted she write down, and lock it up. Her parents will never know. It sounds perfect in her head as she moves through the living room. She's got it all worked out.

The low gong of the main door echoes in surround sound throughout the residence. She changes direction and stops at the polished control panel. The door hisses open to reveal a startled D'Arcy Saunders.

"Hey!"

"Oh, hi!" Karen says, stepping out into the hall. St. Claire stands near the lifts looking bored. "How did you get up here?"

"He said it was okay."

"St. Claire did?"

D'Arcy looks mildly hurt.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean it to sound so accusatory. It's just that my dad is big on security and St. Claire usually has to be told things. I had to haggle him to get the boys cleared but maybe this means he's giving me a little credit in the company I keep."

"I'm on that list Valerie spoke of but if you want me to go..."

"No, not at all. Come in."

She steps inside and walks across the foyer.

"Actually I'm glad you came by. Melanie isn't feeling well and Valerie and Kimber left so it gives us a chance to catch up. I can't believe we've known each other for so long and never hung out."

D'Arcy laughs, "Tell me about it. We could have been childhood pals if I wasn't off exploring systems with my mother. But what's past is past. We can make a fresh start now and, like I said, there aren't many people I know around here. Those I knew as a child have all gone."

"You've got us even though everyone is a bit scattered for the summer. It'll all come together once fall semester begins."

"Don't remind me. I dread returning to school."

"NCH is pretty lush and transferring in with a social circle like us will make it a breeze."

"Jocks and models, I know."

"Those are things we do not who we are."

"I'm glad to hear it. You guys seem really solid and honestly that's something I've been looking for. Moving around leaves little time to build friendships that last."

"Well, rest easy girlfriend. Your time has come."

D'Arcy smiles, "Thanks. You hungry?"

"Actually  yes, I could use something sweet. Let me just check and see if Melanie needs anything."

Karen calls over to the Masterton suite. It rings seven times before clicking over to voicemail. She's probably resting. Maybe she would bring back a slice of pie as a surprise.

"No answer. Let's 'ruise."

D'Arcy follows her out into the hall but they are stopped by St. Claire.

"Heading out?"

"For desert. You want?"

"No thanks but you are still getting an escort. I'll make sure they don't intrude on your girl talk."

Karen narrows her eyes, "I would say that was sweet of you if you weren't being so damn sarcastic."

"What can I say? I'm a sarcastic guy."

"Whatev. D'Arc?"

"It's cool. I'm just going to ask her everything there is to know about Billy."

Karen giggles, takes D'Arcy's hand and leads her toward the lifts. She turns before the door closes.

"Don't wait up."

They burst into laughter.

St. Claire shakes his head and wanders back down the long corridor. He is starting to wonder if this detail could get any more irritating when the sound of an object shattering jars him back into the present. He is standing outside the Masterton suite. Reaching for the door controls, he rings the bell twice.

Nothing.

"Miss Masterton?"

Silence.

He is sure he heard something but there had been no proximity alarms. No reports from the rest of the detail. The rush of adrenaline keeps him focused. He taps in the lock override code and steps inside.

Melanie is lying face down in the center of the tiled foyer. Shards of a broken vase that sat beside the com-consol surround her.

St. Claire springs forward and drops to her side. He turns her over, pressing two fingers against her very warm throat. Strong pulse. He leans closer. Breath is shallow. She stirs, murmuring softly.

"Miss Masterton, it's Agent St. Claire. You are in your residence and you are safe. I need you to tell me what happened."

Her eyes flutter open and suddenly she begins to struggle. Panicked, she screams, arms thrashing out. He contains her easily and holds the sides of her face.

"What did you see, Melanie? What did you see?"

*


what did you see, blondie?


Masterton Suite

Melanie wakes up with a headache the size of an asteroid. She manages to choke down breakfast and take a Bakuran homeopathic remedy. The whole day is spent in a state of heightened anxiety. She calls Karen to cancel lunch plans, throws on a white sundress, opens some windows and curls up for a nap. Hours later, she cannot seem to shake the feeling. A vague and unknown threat. Her chest becomes heavy with dread. Something is happening. It's happening. What's happening? It's almost nine when the anxiety becomes a full blown terror and she rushes toward the com with a sense of urgency she has never felt before. It is as if her legs are being propelled forward, arm outstretched, mouth open in an attempt to call for help. Her voice fails. Her vision crystallizes and whitens before closing in entirely.

Then she is in a half-night standing on the shore of the sea. A brisk wind streaks across the surface of the water and in the wind there are whispers of the coming dawn. Her feet sink slowly into the cool wet sand as the waves break roughly - ever closer.

A com rings continuously in the background. Lightening looks like flashbulbs. Droids march to the thunder's steady beat. The waves crash against her exposed legs, wind howling, blowing the dress against her body, blond curls floating freely around her head. Shadows lurk and leap before her eyes. Something is out there. She cannot free herself from the sand and stands defiant upon the shore.

The body of a beast but the heads of a humanoid.

A woman.

A daughter.

A sister.

A monster.

Alexia.

The shriek from its mouths turns blood to ice and sets the sky on fire. Clouds turn to ash and swirl to the ground like confetti. The beast rises up out of the sea and bears down on the shore. Melanie throws her arms up as if to fend off the monstrosity but even the shadow of the beast is like a blanket of magma and she screams watching the skin sear and melt away until she stares at nothing but bone.

The next thing she sees is St. Claire's face. He is speaking but she cannot hear him. He leans closer as she whispers.

"Soon."


-TBC

[Syren]

Naboo

Surface: Varykino Island: Greyson Villa

Once Alexander and Henrick join their wives in the Lake Country, the summer seems to heat up much the same way it did when they all became such close friends years ago. Temperatures skyrocket into the triple digits but all is made manageable by the continuous breeze and afternoon showers that arrive like clockwork.

All is peaceful, all is well.

On the surface.

Monica had convinced Celeste to calm her suspicion for the sake of appearance. If they were going to get anywhere with what Alexander has been hiding, they needed to make him believe no one wants to ask any questions. That goes for Henrick as well. The good doctor does not have the best reputation for keeping secrets from his best friend. If Henrick doesn’t know anything is wrong, neither will Alexander.

That is exactly the way the women want it.

Alexander politely interrupts the happy hour conversation, which lasts from mid-day to last person standing, to let Monica know he spoke to Karen on Hesperidium.

“And how is she?”

“Fine, fine. She doubts her ability in that advanced literature course but otherwise, she seems good.”

Celeste smiles serenely, “Oh, she just needs a little encouragement. That’s all.”

Monica nods, “You did reassure her, didn’t you?”

“I tried my best. She seemed very excited by how the Raga’Ana shoot went.”

“Well, I hope its nothing too provocative.”

“I didn’t even think about that. Should I have asked?”

“We don’t want our daughters prancing around half-naked for the Imperial fleets to fawn over.”

Celeste throws a hand over her heart, “Goodness no! I thought the contracts specifically stated it would be kept tasteful.”

“I’m sure a call to Miss Marx will clear the air. She understands our concern.”

“It will certainly ease my mind about the whole thing.”

The com-link clipped to Alexander’s belt vibrates. He glances down and smirks. Not exactly a forthcoming expression even after all these years.   

“I’ve got to take this. Will you ladies excuse me?”

They nod as he wanders out of one room and into the next. All of the rooms in the villa are open-air and interconnected by a small corridor. He unclips the device and brings it up to his head.

“Winton.”

“It’s St. Claire. There has been a situation.”

“With whom?”

“Masterton.”

“That’s a first. What seems to be the problem?”

“Found her dazed and barely conscious in the Masterton suite. No signs of foul-play or forced entry discovered. She reported not feeling well earlier in the day which is why your daughter was absent at the time.”

“She’s ill?”

“Not physically, it seems. We took her the IPMC as a precaution but no issues or injuries were found. The doctors are baffled. Medically, she’s fine.”

“Then it’s metaphysical.”

“That’s what I concluded.”

“Did you question her?”

“I tried. At first all she would whisper is ‘soon.’ There was no context to put that in. However, after she was examined, she told me she saw a monster.”

“Monster? What kind of monster?”
 
“She stated she didn’t know.”

“Do you believe her?”

“She does not strike me as one who would see gain in lying.”

“Indeed but powerful flashes like this transcend precognition.”

“You think she has the sight?”

“Visions are common in empathic Force-sensitive’s. Most can barely recall what they saw at first but in time, the images begin to take shape - my wife being the prime example here. It took months if not years before pieces of what she saw became something she could communicate with words.”

“How would you like me to proceed?”

“Where is she now?”

“Back at home. Your daughter and the Saunders girl are with her now.”

“Good. Keep her calm and comfortable. I will alert her parents to the situation and proceed from there. And St. Claire?”
 
“Yes?”

“If she remembers anything, contact me immediately.”
 
“Of course, sir. St. Claire out.”

Alexander clicks off and lowers his arm. There is only one monster he can recall ever being aware of. It is the monster of the prophecy. The beast. He would never even think it if Melanie wasn’t involved. Her gift is proving more useful than anyone thought. She might be able to see the future but could she figure it out in time to prevent it? Monica couldn’t. Could Melanie? Only time would tell.

On the other side of the wall, Monica turns away. She had overheard enough of the conversation to know that Melanie Masterton possesses a potent and potentially life-threatening ability. Monica has been on the receiving end of that interrogation before and she would be damned if she would let Alexander do the same to Celeste and Henrick’s daughter.

Mind whirling, she escapes back into the villa unnoticed.

Alexander returns with the “unfortunate news” that Melanie has “fallen ill” and is currently in the “best care credits can buy.” This frightens then calms the Masterton’s. It is for the best. Henrick would call home in the morning to ensure she is recuperating while Celeste and Monica would be meeting in the dead of night to discuss what was really said between Alexander and the agent assigned to the safety of their children.


-TBC

[Syren]

Corellia

Surface: Coronet City

They arrive via luxury transport and find the Major waiting for them in the spaceport. He embraces them like it’s been longer than a few months but the girls don’t find the gesture as cheesy as they normally would.

It’s good to be home.

Beaming, he puts an arm around Kimber’s shoulders and leads them out to the waiting CorSec speeder. The ride is short but the sunlight feels wonderful as they pass between the architecturally superior towers. Corellian pride shines in all that they do. Downtown Coronet is one of many masterpieces in terms of design second only to Coruscant although no good Corellian would admit it.

As they near One CorSec Plaza, two giant holo-ads on either side of the traffic lanes beckon the public’s attention. One is of Kimber’s button-nose; the other of Valerie’s lips with the tag-line: Who is she? The cam pulls back to reveal more of each face with the Raga’Ana label appearing below.

Then it reads: Imperial Girl Collection. Fall. Exclusively by Raga’Ana.

“Well,” Valerie says lowly, “That’s not completely embaressing or anything.”

The Major glances over his shoulder.

“You should be proud. I pulled some strings to have them put closer to work so I can see you both every morning.”

Kimber frowns, “That’s creepy, dad.”

“Is it? I just miss you. Can’t a father miss his kids?”

“You mean kid. Singular.”

“Kid, yes. You know Lilandra and I think of you as part of the family, Val."

“I’m touched.”

“No, you are snide but that’s part of your charm.”

Kimber giggles.

He adjusts his eyes back to the traffic. It could have been a tragic slip but his justification seems to warm something in her. He knows she struggles now that Jerico Gellar is out of the picture and he wishes her could offer more explanation.

They arrive at CorSec Headquarters and exit the speeder.

"Did you ladies want to grab some lunch?"

Valerie shrugs, "I'm exhausted. I think I'll just head home for now. Maybe we can do dinner."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, I'm good. I'll call you later."

Kyri nods, signaling to the driver.

"It's great to have you back. Let us know if you need anything."

"Thanks, Major Patten."

Valerie hops back into the speeder and the driver pulls away from the plaza.

Kyri turns to Kimber and smiles, "What do you want to do?"

"I'm starved. Let's get some lunch but first I want to say hi to all your friends."

They move along the walkway and enter the massive complex that houses all departments of CorSec. She waves and smiles at everyone they pass in the corridors. They have all known her since she was a child and have heard about the modeling deal. There are a lot of congratulatory well-wishes and compliments. As they near the Major's office, a tall and striking man rounds the corner. His face lights up when he sees them.

"Welcome home, Kimber."

She glows, "Thanks, Detective Farmer. How are things?"

"Keepin the city safe for you."

"I really appreciate that. Coronet just wouldn't be the same without you watching over it."

He smiles then nods to the Major, "If you have a moment, there is an issue that needs your attention."

"Of course. Kim, darling, would you mind waiting in my office?"

"Sure, daddy."

She hums dreamily and floats through the door.

Detective Farmer raises his eyes to the Major, "Rally's around the city have increased protesting Imperial control. Our liason from the Core is displeased we are not taking more ruthless methods to quell the incidents."

"These are peaceful?"

"For now, yes."

"Protesting is not against Corellian law but I can see how that would conflict with the Empire's views of control."

"The liason wishes to meet with you."

"Understood but it will have to wait. My daughter's homecoming is more important."

Farmer smiles, "I agree. I'll let him know you will contact him later this afternoon."

"Thank you, Frank."

"It's no problem. Enjoy your time with Kimber."

"I will."

The Major steps into the office. Kimber is staring through the window at the cityscape beyond.

"Ready, honey?"

She turns, rays of sun shimmering through her light brown hair, "I sure am. Is everything alright? I hope the Detective wasn't the bearer of bad news."

"Nothing that can't be turned around. You shouldn't worry yourself with these things. Enjoy the freedom of youth."

"But I do worry. I worry about you and mom."

He laughs, "We worry about you too. That's our job, remember?"

She hugs him tightly then slides out into the hall.

"Well, you can relax. Everything is falling into place on Coruscant."

And that is exactly why he worries.


-TBC

[Syren]

Corellia

Surface: Coronet City: Gellar Residence

A summer sun stains the sky orange and purple.

The Residence is located in a converted corporate tower just outside of downtown. It is much too expensive for a standard CorSec Agent and she had always wondered how her father had been able to afford it. There were rumors about swindling wealthy citizens out of credits in exchange for protection or special treatment but nothing became of these accusations. The Major has integrity and would never allow such a thing to exist within the organization. She believes in CorSec and all it stands for. One day she would be a CorSec Agent herself, albeit the most attractive one. This is not entirely unappealing to her as Valerie has no qualms with capitalizing on her looks. If nothing else, they daze people long enough for her to sort through all the options. She can be hasty and vindictive.

Valerie swipes her access card and taps in the corresponding door code. The loft is musty from the months away. She strides through the room opening windows and finally begins to relax.

Alone at last.

She tries to remember the last time. Fail. Shrugging, she unclasps her necklace and tosses it aside, wandering through the living room and down the hall. She pulls off her top and bra and drops it carelessly. A stiff breeze brings with it the whisper of the city. She unzips her skirt, letting it slip down her tanned and moving legs as she steps out of it wearing now only heels. They echo in the empty space. Turning sharply, she enters her room. It is exactly the way she left it. The walls are a color called delta fog with a brigade green border which gives it a somewhat somber tone. She is quite the angsty teenager and tends to brood and obsess about certain things. Things she dare not share with Kimber. There is definitely a limit to what the Major's daughter can handle and Valerie would just as soon avoid the panic attack these things will inevitably induce. It's all suspicion anyway. No proof, no lines to draw pieces of information together. Nothing that would make her sound any less paranoid or emotionally damaged. Parental abandonment promotes deviant behaviors which may explain why she is searching for answers in a self-made conspiracy. Maybe it is all really happening randomly - a life so sweet it has to make you wonder.

A part of her is waiting for the reality of it all.

What goes up...

She draws a bath and tosses in several foaming beads. She pads back into the bedroom, kicks off the heels and flips on the radio. Classic Corellian Rock. It's really the only way to go. Nude, she briefly jams out before kneeling to open the nightstand drawer. The back pulls away neatly to reveal a small rectangular compartment. Credit chips are stacked neatly next to a flask, a vibrator and five expertly rolled joints of the finest Corellian herb. She withdraws one and replaces the drawer.

Bubbles fill the tub and a thin trail of smoke curls above them.

Valerie drifts between the Coruscant life and the Corellian life before it. The primary schools she attended. All those rules. Birthday parties. Barbeques at the ranch. Field trips to the capital building. A particularly chilly winter. Her father teaching her how to fire his CorSec sidearm. The friends she had and let go after the capital switch. She was beautiful but scrappy. She was a different kind of girl. The polished version she stares at in the mirror now is something else entirely. The contract mandates composure at all times. If they are in public, they have to be pretty. No bad hair days or missed brow waxes. She looks subdued and spoiled. It doesn't suck by any means but it took some getting used to. This isn't the way anyone here remembers her and those ads, this deal, that contract, only add to the confusion. She did it to herself. Mostly for the free clothes but also because there is no way in hell she would let Karen have something to throw in her face. No leverage to hold over her. Even playing fields make for easier maneuvering. The politics of high school are irrational and cruel. Certain concessions must be made.

She slides into a little black number and pulls up the straps of her polished heels. Her dark hair is free-flowing and maxed on the volume. Face is natural with smoldering eyes, bringing those olive peepers to life. Her lips, the darkest of reds. Grabbing her purse, she heads out the door and down the hall. The living room is much more comfortable now that the loft has had time to air out. She checks her com and glances around for anything she may have missed. The sun is sinking and it muddles the sky, colors merging with clouds that become the thunderheads of an approaching storm.

Something drops from her purse, hitting the slick floors with a clang. It twirls on end for a moment before slowing to fall on its side. At first she thinks it's a misplaced bracelet and bends down to retrieve it. Only upon closer inspection does she realize it's not jewelry. There are distinct grooves from a cast mold. Something made in a factory. It looks like a joint casing...for a droid.


- TBC

[Syren]

Corellia

Surface: Patten Ranch

The sprawling equestrian estate was established by Colonel Parnassus Patten, grandfather to Major Kyri Patten. It lies twenty-four kilometers outside Coronet’s glowing metropolis and has twice served as a temporary command post during invasion-occupation crisis’ over the years. The grounds are lush and professionally maintained. Horticulture has always been part of the family and currently Lilandra Patten tends the massive gardens surrounding the property. Night blooming flowers fill the air with an intoxicating fragrance to mix with the mouth-watering scent of home-cooking that drifts from the open windows of the ranch. Lilandra has prepared a homecoming feast with help from the kitchen staff. Several hired hands from all around Corellia have been on staff for years. The Patten’s are notorious for their generous employment opportunities. They pay more than a fair wage and interact with each staff member like they are a part of the family. All who have worked for them sing their praises and find that maintaining the ranch has brought them peace in an increasingly unstable universe.

On the wooden wrap-around porch, Kimber sits perched on a railing and listens to the songs of night insects in the surrounding woods. They always calmed her when she was young, whispering a gentle comfort that would put her instantly at ease. In the spring and summer months she would ride horses if she wasn’t shadowing her father at work. She, too, has aspirations of one day becoming a famed CorSec Agent specializing in communications. The command center within One CorSec Plaza is unrivaled and she could spend hours on end watching officers transfer and connect transmissions to high-ranking officials. She dreams of being a part of her father’s elite team who would be responsible for all communications on his behalf. While Valerie has her sights set on being a field agent, Kimber wants to remain at her father’s side. Never in the history of CorSec has a man led with such aggressive compassion. The Major could be firm but it was always out of love. Being a popular high school model on the brink of universal success is a wonderful opportunity but these girls were raised to be grounded no matter how charmed life becomes.

Thus the difference that divides The Four.

Karen and Melanie were raised with far different values that seem to soften and change for the better around those of Valerie and Kimber.

They seem almost bound together….

“Credit for your thoughts?”

Startled, she turns.

Valerie is standing a few meters away with a devilish smile.

“You scared me.”

“What’s new?”

Kimber sighs, hopping off the railing.

“That’s not funny. So, do you feel more rested now that you got a few moments alone?”

“Actually, yes. It was nice to unwind at home. How does it feel to be back here?”

“Refreshing. I forgot how nice all this silence could be. Such a thing is practically unheard of in the capital.”

“That’s for sure.”

Kimber glances over Valerie’s chic ensemble, “You look lovely but you really didn’t have to dress up just for dinner. This is one of the few places we can still go casual and not catch heat from Maxi.”

“I know but I felt a little wild tonight. I was thinking I might hit up the downtown scene later. You won’t be too disappointed if I go out?”

“Not at all. I am totally looking forward to a perfect nights sleep in my own bed! Nothing sounds better right now…..except for maybe dinner. I’m starving yet again!”

“I dunno where you put it.”

“Hollow leg?”

“Pretty shapely for being hollow.”

Kimber giggles and stares longingly out into the darkness beyond the trees. Summer nights are so warm and inviting. Valerie’s expression changes, face falling. There is a hint of melancholy to those pouty lips.   

It takes several minutes for Kimber to finally catch this.

“Hey, why the long face? You aren’t getting super homesick are you? Cuz like, we still have three more years of school before we can even think about returning on a more permanent basis.”

Valerie clings to her purse, uncertain as to whether or not she should share what she found with her dearest friend. Usually, she only keeps obscene and perverse thoughts and instances from Kimber out of respect for the girl’s altruistic nature. She doesn’t want to shatter the innocence that keeps those violet eyes shimmering. But something about the find is weighing heavily on Valerie’s soul. There is no way a piece of a droid could have ended up in a purse she hadn’t used in almost a year by accident especially since the accessory had been buried in a walk-in closet the whole time. Finally, she takes Kimber’s hand and leads her down the steps out into the yard. They cross through a pruned shrub made into an archway then deeper into the expansive gardens. When they reach the two stone benches beside a carved stone bird bath, Valerie sets the purse down and opens it. When she turns around, she is holding the casing between two fingers.

“What is that? A bracelet? Can I see?”

Valerie hands it to her, “It’s not a bracelet.”

Kimber inspects it closely, puzzled. She runs her slender fingers along its smooth surface and over the grooves that give the casing a unique shape.

“What…is it? Some sort of machinery thing?”

“Close. It’s a droid joint casing.”

“And how do you know that?”

“I pay attention.”

Kimber arches a skeptical brow.

“Okay, so I pay attention when a hot guy is talking. That Trade Federation rep came to our middle school and virtually dissected a battle droid. There were diagrams. You were there!”

“I must have nodded off because that sounds dreadfully boring.”

“Beside the point. More important than identifying the object is where I found it.”

“Where did you find it? Please tell me this isn’t going to gross me out.”

Valerie sighs even though she deserved that one.

“It was in this purse which has been hanging in my closet since we left Corellia.”

“Maybe your dad stashed it there or something…”

“In my purse? Come on. Besides, I bought it after he took off.”

“I don’t know how it got there. I mean, who would even be in your house to put it there? No one is allowed access while you are off world. Well, accept my father of course but I don’t exactly see him having much interest in your accessories.”

Valerie frowns deeply, “So you think it’s weird, right? I’m not just being paranoid?”

“It’s definitely weird. Should we ask my dad?”

“No,” Valerie says quickly, “It’s best if we don’t mention it.”

“Why not? Maybe he knows something.”

Valerie is sure that he does but bringing it to his attention might in turn raise suspicion about her. She has been wondering how much the Major knows for a while now and had not been able to get the fact that he spoke both Karen and Melanie’s last name shortly before they attended North Coruscant. Add to it the fact that her father is still missing with absolutely no traces of evidence even with a vast amount of CorSec’s resources searching for him and there is something serious going on. Missing parents, new friends who may not have been the strangers they seemed, droid parts turning up in places they most certainly shouldn’t be.

“I don’t want to bug him. He’s such a busy man. Forget about it, Kim. I’m probably just leaping to conclusions like usual.”

“Are you sure? I would sure hate for this to be troubling you…”

“No, really. It’s fine. I’m sure there is reasonable explanation.”

Lilandra calls to them from the porch.

Valerie covers her doubt with a sincere smile and follows Kimber back through the garden to the house. It’s been a long day and the last thing she wants to do is cause concern when the Major and his wife are overflowing with excitement at their return. Questions remain. Questions she could only ponder in the privacy of her own home.

Perhaps there are more clues hidden amongst the possessions left behind by Jerico Gellar.

Major Patten sits at the head of the table with Lilandra at his right. He raises a toast to the girls and their safe return before the meal is served. Cheers echo throughout the house as the table digs in.

Welcome home indeed.

-TBC

[Syren]

Corellia

Surface: Coronet City

The endless bass of club music does not lessen the intensity. She had run into some old friends, friends she used to be close with who, after spotting the ads and running a HoloNet search, think Valerie is a sellout. They say she is a capital girl now, that her bravado has been diluted by excess. This is not what any good Corellian girl wants to hear. It stings even though she knows such opinions are usually motivated by jealousy.

So she tries to dance it out.

These friends catch up with her later at the bar where she sits casually sipping a mineral water. They want to know why she decided to grace them with her presence. She tells them it's called marketing and that they should really get a clue. There is speculation about her father, more ugly rumors to blast down. Trading barbs is her style and she handles the jabs easily. It isn't until one of them insults Kimber, labeling her a hapless follower, that Valerie is pushed over the edge. Technically, she is supposed to avoid situations which would reflect poorly on Raga'Ana's respectable image but that does not stop her from dropping some meathead fool to the ground clutching his junk for dear life. As he gazes up at her with tears in his squinted eyes she allows a satisfied sneer.

"If you think a year is all it takes to wash the Corellian blood from my veins - think again, asshole."

The surrounding crowd concurs with a round of applause.

Valerie turns him over and uses his shoulder as a resting place to adjust the strap on her heel. Someone steps out of the crowd and takes a picture. By tomorrow afternoon, this picture will be splashed across Imperial forums and finally make its way to the desk of Maxi Marx with a bi-line that reads:

Corellian Model Man-Eater Fights Slander with Style.

Maxi will find this strangely refreshing.

Valerie does not stick around the club to chat afterwards and heads home fully charged. She spends most of the night tearing the place apart in search of something that will dull the roar of uncertainty. Selling out, trading up, indulging in the opportunities afforded to them on Coruscant - it's all for nothing if she has nothing. No one. The Patten's are great and so are her new friends but there will always be something missing without any real family to call her own. She feels as though she's been living a borrowed life since her father flipped out and left. Not so much as a note. A goodbye. An apology. Nothing. The Major's explanation made sense and a part of her did not fault Jerico Gellar for the pressures of law enforcement weighing down on him. It's how he chose to deal with that pressure that is killing her inside. Normally this is when the daughter would bond with the mother but Valerie was told her mother died in childbirth. Her last breath was spent naming her daughter. So when her father suddenly vanished from the picture, she was left no choice but to suck it up and keep moving forward.

The Gellar's were known for being brash and stubborn and it was something she so admired in Jerico's work. She wanted to be just like him growing up but the events of the recent past have called his integrity and judgment into question.

Who just leaves a daughter in the hands of close friends?

Newly enraged, Valerie ransacks her father's office.

Everything is as it should be. Supplies, datacards full of reports, and a box of cigars. The residence is suddenly cold and unrevealing. How exactly does one leave without a shred of acknowledgement to those left behind? Someone on the verge of a meltdown would exhibit symptoms worse than those she saw. She does not remember anything close to crisis in the months leading up to that point in time. Yet he is gone. Did a damn good job of staying gone too but to vanish so completely would require a hell of a lot of time or some serious help. The Major said that CorSec's investigation has turned up nothing to suggest foul-play but this alternative rationalization also makes sense to her. Maybe Jerico ran and someone else covered up the tracks. Maybe there wasn't a choice involved. It all happened so fluidly. Now you see him, now you don't. He made it all look so easy. Still, there is nothing to validate this line of thinking and it only serves to frustrate her further.

Why does anyone do what they do? Can you really say you know someone? Space stations explode, people die, parents leave and maybe the sad truth is that Valerie simply will not accept that as an answer. There must always be something deeper, a motive to help others understand. But what if there isn't? What if Jerico Gellar just left and it is up to her to restore glory to the Gellar name? What legacy would she leave this world?

Disillusioned, she wanders listlessly through the house.

It may all be too daunting and there is only one way to gain a bit of perspective. High as a kite, she might stop to check you out...

The early morning air is crisp even in the throes of summertime. She stretches in a chair on the slim rectangular patio and watches the city rise and shine. Clarity happens upon her softly. She would bring fame and clout to Corellia's doorstep. Apparently there are prizes for being genetically superior and who is Valerie to refuse such positive reinforcement after all she's been through?

Maybe she would return to the capital and continue the indulgence...

...but not before she has one conversation with the Major.

Risk or not she must know.

*


Surface: One CorSec Plaza: Special Operations Division

The reception area is all fluff.

Large half-moon desk, perky blond receptionist, lots of plants, framed self-celebratory recruitment posters. Valerie marvels at the cheesiness as she clears initial security. This grants her access through two glass doors and down a long and boring hall to the official business offices of Major Kyri Patten. Nothing involving a mission is ever discussed on this floor. There are several "war-rooms" levels down that serve that purpose. She's not supposed to know that or know anything exists below the administrative level of this building but she's too curious for her own good and had discovered three other areas undetected. Secretly, she hoped the Major would discover this therefore making her that much more marketable in his eye for recruiting the best.

The Major's office door is open and he stands upon her entry.

"Good afternoon, Valerie. To what do I owe the honor?"

"First, you were notified the microsecond I set foot in this building and second, I need a reason to see you?"

He laughs. The girl is a whip.

"Security said you walked in here with purpose. A girl with something on her mind."

She taps the door closed and falls into a chair.

"That's a pretty fair assessment."

He rounds the desk and takes a seat.

"What can I do for you?"

"You can answer me something."

"I will try my best."

Valerie meets his steely gaze and speaks slowly.

"My father. He's never coming back, is he?"

Kyri takes a dreadfully long pause but in it his face gives away nothing. He does not want to lie but cannot tell her the truth.

"No, Valerie. He is not."

Prior compulsive speculation does not soften the blow nor does it dim any suspicion that something more complex transpires beyond the blinding lights of the main stage. She knows better than to ask for follow-up. She doesn't have to. He's confirmed enough to risk reprimand from the CorSec Director. Her skin hums with the effort it takes to keep it together as she rummages through her purse. She's a tough girl. She's going to knock 'em dead. The mantra's ring in her head like blaster fire as she stands in front of the desk.

"Well if you see him," she says, placing the droid joint casing in front of him. "He might want that back. It seems that is the only thing he left behind. Good afternoon, Major."

Valerie leaves the office but refrains from storming.

The point has been made.

Kyri lifts the object in front of his eyes, running a finger over the signature grooves before closing his hand around it. He shakes a fist and opens a secure line to his com-unit.

"Get me Viceroy Medivh."



-TBC