SAM: Socially Acceptable Monsters

[Syren]

Bakura

Surface: Salis D'aar: RepulsorCorp Headquarters

The reports are streaming in from the Core, some of which sound promising. The Empire thrives on the carnage it creates for itself and mixing in a few models, attractive adolescents and a security agent will certainly get things going.

Alexander Winton's secure personal com unit bleeps at him.

"Yes?"

"St. Claire here, sir."

"Ah, the wayward agent. How does it feel to be back on the capital?"

"Not entirely unpleasant."

"Worry not, the project will continue as scheduled. You will be back there soon enough. I don't think I have to tell you what a great service you are doing for the Empire. The Federation is not to be trusted. Viceroy Medivh, as shrewd a businessman as he may be, maintains certain disturbing allusions about a droids place in a humanoid universe. Yet his brilliance cannot be denied. Nor can the depth of Major Patten's interest. Your technical skills will be invaluable should this project get out of hand. Do you understand, Agent St. Claire?"

"Yes, sir."

"Good. What have you discovered about the attack on the Glitannai Esplanade?"

"Reports of an armed aerial drone, sir."

"Do they know it was Imperial issue?"

"Unclear, sir."
 
"Then make it clear. Has there been headway regarding the occurrence?"
 
"Most of the victims do not remember the flash. Witnesses further down the Esplanade claim to have seen it but we have yet to find any digital proof. All cams and devices were disabled."

"Have you spoken with Agent Venko?"

"His statement matches that of the other victims but we believe he was knocked unconscious by a projectile from the aerial prior to the flash."

"And Winton?"

"Similar story with even less detail and she was typically hostile during questioning. She claims to remember nothing after the attack began."

Alexander cannot help but smile, "I imagine so. Do you believe her?"

"No."

"You seem worried. Tell me what troubles you."

St. Claire's face tightens, "Permission to speak freely?"

"Of course."

"It just seems that if Winton retains no memory of these actions much the same way her sister doesn't, is it not possible we could be heading toward the same problem?"

"There is no indication of that. I have my bases covered but I appreciate your concern. Anything else?"
 
"Yes, sir. Valerie Gellar."
 
"What about her?"

"She seems to think she knows what is going on."

"Does she?"

"In regards to the attack, yes. She was able to make connections Agent Venko did not."

"Impressive but consider something for a moment. Is this sudden suspicion of Gellar something you truly believe is a security risk or simply a byproduct of the project? Given its subject I am not surprised she is on your mind."

"I suppose it could be both, sir. Gellar is more tactically aware than the others."

"Which is why she was chosen."

"What would you have me do?"
 
"Stamp out any doubt she may have and ensure Venko isn't withholding information. If she recognized something, it is likely he did as well. I don't want him getting any ideas or developing an adlibbed sympathy. When you have concluded the investigation, return to the Wheel and await further instruction."

St. Claire nods, "As you wish, sir."

The image fades and Alexander leans back into his office chair. The thought of Karen badgering St. Claire amuses him. The notion that Gellar may be onto something or that Venko may be hiding it does not. The Masterton overdose was the real kicker. Whatever his wife said to her must have really pushed her over the edge. There were even reports that Stratford fought for them valiantly. He and Gellar assisted Venko in defense of the group. Perhaps a little too well. Now they know who the real fighters are. More disturbing is the fact that the insurgent made contact with Maxwell. With the timetable set and chronometer counting down, paths continue to cross effortlessly as if following the script.

Life is trivial.

Reaction is priceless.

The com bleeps again. Groaning, he glances down to catch the incoming caller. Speak of the devil.

"Mr. Stratford, so nice to hear from you again."

Reef's face is bandaged and bruised, "What the hell is going on?"

"With what?"

"Come on, the attack? Was this one of your stunts? You could have gotten us all killed! Then where would your master plan be?"

"The master plan is not up for debate or any of your concern. As I've previously stated, your role is very specific. You keep them all together. Nothing more. You were never in any real harm, I assure you."

"It felt real."

"Reality is what you make it. Do not get attached to them. After all, they are only means to your end. The ticket to a better life for you and your family. All you have to do is keep them together. As long as they are together, they can survive anything."

Reef nods quickly, apologizing for disturbing him. Alexander understands completely. It's amazing where people go with only some of the information. There are so many assumed truths. Reef thinks he means together as in all of them.

Alexander is only talking about The Four.


-TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

The sky is hazy and tinged with violet.

Maxi Marx spins her brilliant lies to turn the attack on the Esplanade to Raga'Ana's advantage. The circumstances serve only to deepen their mystery and appeal. Offers abound and the press beg for more. She never fathomed The Four would generate the kind of attention advertisers and investors dream of without much provocation. Maxi ensures brand recognition is attached to their every enigmatic move. Shares skyrocket, merchandise moves faster than they can stock it, and business, as they say, is good.

The capital kids are less enthusiastic about their growing roles as fabulous targets. They were sought after before but now the public's interest borders on fanatical. Reporters stake out the IMPC as Karen waits by Skyler's bedside until he is well enough to be taken home. He kind of likes that fact that she dotes on him but tries to make her understand this wasn't her fault. She wonders if that's true.

Agent Scott St. Claire calls them into the Galactic City precinct. His initial report sites evidence that links the attack back to a separatist faction operating out of the capital called La Révolte. They are shown photage of known associates and Melanie watches with dread washing over her as he points out one of the faction leaders.

Castin Donn.

Valerie, Lucas, Skyler and Karen manage to conceal their awareness and horror while Reef, Billy, D'Arcy and Kimber stare blankly at faces that simply do not register. St. Claire informs them that Agent Venko and his team would be actively pursuing these members for questioning in association with the Esplanade attack. Security details would be tightened during the investigation. There would be no exceptions.

Reactions are mixed in the face of the truth being offered them.

Karen is vaguely flattered.

Billy, Kimber and D'Arcy want to know why this group would bother with them at all.

Lucas and Skyler suddenly wonder what kind of people Melanie and Karen would associate with.

Melanie does not believe it. The faction is against the innocent lives lost to the Empire. Despite their doubts about her, they are not the type to strike so directly. The Faction deals mostly in information. Their network of sources and slicers provides them access to lesser known truths. She feels a compulsion to warn Castin but considers that may be exactly what they are expecting.
 
Valerie is on to them as well. She knows St. Claire is only throwing Melanie's boy toy under the speeder as means to scare them in the wrong direction. This has nothing to do with the separatists or naysayers and everything to do with an Imperial agenda. Could there be forces conspiring against their Force-friendly cohorts?

Reef is starting to have a bad feeling about the whole thing.

Satisfied, St. Claire bids them farewell and walks back out of their lives as quickly as he had reappeared leaving the capital kids confounded and more than a little paranoid.

At North Coruscant, gossip runs rampant. Lines between fear, adoration and jealousy become less clear. Everyone wants to know what happened but most are too afraid to ask. They put on a good front and act as though all is well but the looks and whispers cause them to withdraw further from their classmates and turn to each other.


-TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

In a miniscule yet immaculate apartment, Agent Nikoli Venko changes the dressing on his arm and considers the facts. Thankfully, he and the others had escaped with only minor injuries. Not that there was a lack of trying to cause more harm. Many had died that day, fourteen in total including their driver. The attack had been swift and precise, something coordinated and planned. The security speeders had been targeted and hit without incident and the fact that the hoverlimo survived raises all sorts of alarms in his head. They should have been destroyed just as easily yet somehow the transport remained intact.

Valerie had riled all sorts of people up the command chain in acusing ISB of intentionally allowing harm to befall them. She would be out of line if she and the rest of The Four did not generate a significant amount of revenue for the private sector. They are valuable in more ways than one. Gellar is starting to realize it. Considering what he knows, this line of thought had not escaped him but he had yet to voice concern. St. Claire came down hard on Venko, stressing the need for compliance by all Imperial assets. He seemed particularly interested in the Esplanade attack and pushed Venko to remember details he could not recall. His memory has been filled with darkness upon waking in the IMPC.

Now, in his own residence, he struggles to remember what happened after the crash.

The destroyed storefront, spotting the drone, a wave of consistent fire – these are all things he can picture clearly. He remembers spotting the mag-lev station and rationalizing it would provide the best coverage. The trick was to get across the plaza without being leveled by drone fire. The drone itself was odd, something completely out of place, but stranger still was how it seemed to know to keep them pinned down in that specific area. He remembers Kimber screaming and wanting nothing more than to protect her but his mind was focused on the group as a whole. His only thought was to ensure they all got out of there alive. The missile strike is where his memory begins to falter. He can see the bistro patio explode and recall trying to get them away from the planter as it was hit but once on the ground surrounded by flames things fall away. There was something else, aside from the dull roar in his head or the searing pain on his arm that he can’t place. He pushes himself, trying to see what he saw on the ground after the explosion. He saw bodies, heard screaming, and then there was blackness. No, not blackness. There was a light, bright and shining, before everything faded to black. Its source is unknown and the next thing he can remember is waking up in a hospital bed.

Venko sighs, falling into the office chair.

His mind wanders back to Kimber and the things she said at a party last season. He scolds himself for thinking in such terms. Exposure to the capital kids has had some lingering affects. He pictures her perfect face, the button nose and adorable grin that fell as she whispered about a catastrophy on Corellia. Tapping on the desk consol, he pulls up the top stories coming out of the Corellian Sector over the last several months. Nothing in them relates to Kimber or Valerie. Then he remembers she said something about her parents – an ill mother and missing father. Venko does not have access to the CorSec database but stumbles across a name he recognizes: Frank Farmer. He makes a note to follow up at a later date but would first confer with Kimber about what exactly she would like him to do.

Padding into the kitchen, he gets a glass of water and ponders the investigation. He is not certain how St. Claire made the connection to La Révolte, a well known separatist faction who deals mostly in information. ISB is insistent that the attack was their next step in undermining Imperial operations. It would be logical if Karen and Melanie’s Force-ability had been made public. They would be prime targets for a lot of people. But this information is kept tightly under wraps per the Emperor’s wishes. It would make an attack against a group of priviledged students inconsistent with La Révolte’s goals.

The faction would have no use for them.

Suddenly, something about the attack strikes him. He returns to his desk and pulls up a list of names of the lives lost. He opens a secondary window which lists the names of those attached to security details. The groups are broken down by person. All but the hoverlimo driver match one specific group. Everyone who died the night of the attack had been part of Agent Ames’ security detail guarding Melanie Masterton. Those with any information in regards to her potential whereabouts during the time of Ames’ inquiry are now dead.

Venko’s heart pounds in his chest.

What exactly was she doing that they would need to cover it up? And what does La Révolte have to do with any of it?

Despite previous warningsfrom the Director, something tells him to dig.


-TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

Winter 3ABY

Professional and academic duties are tempered with parties and school functions but none more important than the North Coruscant Winter Formal. The event is a cotillion of sorts where the young ladies of the junior and senior classes are introduced and the young gentlemen treat them to a dance in the presence of esteemed alumni. This tradition has been held annually since North Coruscant's construction during the Old Republic and falls just before the seventeenth birthday's of The Four.

The Old Orsic Theater is chosen as this year's venue. The style is a take on holoplex noir, a classic elegance from a different time. Agent Venko shutters at the memory of Carli Cole's grisly murder at the Maranski premiere, his first real glimpse into the twisted lives of the rich and beautiful. There would not be a sequel to that night and he pulls several of his men off the faction investigation and has them scour every corner of the theater. Every staff member is screened and security tightened. No mistakes and no lives lost. If La Révolte truly wants the capital kids harmed, Venko would never let it happen.

Kimber drops by the theater after practice one afternoon as he and the team are finalizing preparations. Her smile can brighten even the worst day and he cannot help but stare as she saunters up casually in her cheerleading uniform. He excuses himself and leads her to into one of the grand cinema halls where crimson drapes lined with gold hang all around them. She runs her fingers along the soft fabric and giggles.

"I thought I might find you here."

"There is much to be done."

"All work and no play?"

"Sadly, yes. I am still trying to find out who attacked us and why."

"That sounds exhausting. You deserve a time-out."

"Imperial agents seldom get those but I'll entertain the idea. What did you have in mind?"

Kimber's wide violet eyes blink expectantly.

"Come to the formal with me. As, like, my date."

Venko's pulse quickens.

"I'm flattered, truly I am, but I simply cannot do that."

"Is this like, an age thing? You're only twenty-two!  Right? And I'll be seventeen in a little over a week. That's not even that bad. Besides, I like you."

He touches the side of her arm but rethinks it, dropping his hands.

"You have no idea how pleased I am to hear that and I will be at the formal. I just can't accompany you in the same capacity. It's not an age thing. Well, it is but that's not all. There is more at stake here than you realize."

"Like what? Your job?"

He grins madly.

"For starters."

She tilts her head and gazes as him quizzically, "Don't you like me, Nik?"

In that moment he realizes he doesn't.

"No."

It's so much more than that even though it can't be. She is everything he has ever wanted but can't have.

Kimber flinches, face falling.

"Oh."

There is an awkward silence. She turns to leave but he grabs her hand, halting her. He pulls her toward him until she is staring up into his face. Emotion overpowers every sense. Venko kisses her softly and lingers before breaking away. Kimber's eyes flutter open and she takes a step back, reaching out to steady herself. She giggles again but this time it's in confirmation of something.

"Tease. I'll see you there."

Venko smiles.

Kimber turns and walks out of the theater on a cloud. She may not have a date but she still got what she came for.

**

Valerie shows up at the Masterton suite. She waits at the door while casually considering how to best phrase what she has to say. Melanie is moderately stunned to find her standing there and reluctantly invites her inside.

"I think you know why I came."

Melanie sighs, moving further into the living room.

"Actually, I don't but if you are here for social blackmail I'm not interested."

"Not a bad guess but still off the mark. I'm here about the reports St. Claire showed up."

She turns quickly.

"What about them?"

"You know as well as I do they are complete bullshit. The Empire knew about your relationship with Castin."

"What? How?"

"Perhaps you weren't as careful as you thought. Lucas saw you sneaking around with him. What's to say they didn't see you too?"

Melanie is swimming in thought. Her stomach sinks.

"Why didn't they stop it? Why are they only bringing it up now?"

Valerie closes the distance between them.

"Because they are pinning this on his little faction to cover the fact that there might be something else at play here. Something or someone else responsible for the attack."

Melanie's hands are trembling.   

"Is there something else?"

Her blue eyes shimmer in the light.

"Isn't there always?"

"Well, at the very least it's good to know everyone is capable of scandal."

"You make it sound so lurid."

"So you didn't sleep with him then? Forgive me if I don't drop dead of shock."

Melanie bristles.

"Contrary to popular belief, closeness isn't always measured in the physical."

"If you say so. Speaking of levels of intimacy, does Castin know about your Force shit?"

"Why does it matter?"

Valerie strikes a pose and breaks it down.

"It matters because the faction has powerful and potentially dangerous contacts. That information would be worth something to a lot of people and that's how they are going to play it. They are going to use your relationship with a known insurgent as the leak for sensitive Imperial intelligence. Castin and his associates will be taken out so they can continue to fuck with us and blame it on the dearly departed dealers of information."

Melanie is completely floored, mouth hanging open in shock.

"Where do you come up with this stuff?"

Valerie shrugs.

"Corellian blood. CorSec ties. Morbid curiosity. Repressed anger. It's not all that unbelievable, Mel. Our whole world is based on appearances. People believe things because it looks a certain way. The Empire has done much worse in its day."

"So, since it looks like the faction leaked this information it gives every enemy a motive?"

"And it gives them grounds to suffocate us with security under the pretense of protection. We are just means to an end."

"What end?"

Valerie arches a brow.

"Funny, I was just about to ask you the same question."

"What makes you think I have an answer?"

"Because of what you can do. You feel things, sense them and while you may claim otherwise, I think you know more than you let on. You're relationship with Castin, the overdose. That's some heavy shit for an honor student and begs the question of who's side you are really on. If you know anything that could quell the massive freak out now would be the time to speak up."
 
Melanie shutters, trying to keep a lid on the rising dread that is no longer held securely in place by medication. A part of her wants to confess, to spill everything and let others shoulder some of the burden. The other part knows what might happen if she does. It takes all she has to keep the sickness at bay and face completely neutral.

"I appreciate you coming to me with this but I don't know what to tell you. Right now, you seem to know more than I do."

"I don't think that's true but if you want to keep it all on the sly I can't fault you for that."

"Since when?"

"Since I discovered you weren't - and I mean this in the best way possible - an uptight self-righteous bitch with an ice queen complex. I like you better as a coconspirator."

"I'm not-"

Valerie holds up a hand, "Don't. Just remember the faction isn't the only one with allies."



-TBC

[Syren]

Bakura

Surface: Salis D'aar

The RepulsorCorp offices are dark except for one.

Alexander Winton is working late. He glances through the reports forwarded over by Agent St. Claire and wonders how the fabricated connection to La Revolte would affect the capital kids. He suspects predictability on their parts and a paranoia stemming from the reactions of their peers. With any luck, the situation will solidify their bonds to each other just in time for the bloody spectacle that awaits them.

St. Claire has made contact from The Wheel. Administer Vital Ezee will be returning him to Viceroy Medivh where he will serve as head of his personal security detail during the final stages of the project. The information he gathers will be essential if what has been alleged comes to pass. If anyone can accomplish such a unique and dangerous merger, it's Medivh. Time will tell. And if success is on the horizon then the futures of both Gellar and Patten will be set in durasteel.

Alexander leans back in the chair and sighs.

Images of his wife's gorgeous and tear streaked face flicker through his mind. She was once so carefree, so unattached to any kind of government machine that the current circumstances are almost laughable. Monica and their closest friends are in so deep there is no way for them to dig out. He knows Monica and Celeste think they have it all figured out but Henrick remains steadfastly loyal. Soon it would all become clear but it will be much too late.

Communication out of Korriban, scarce as it may be, is highly encouraging. The dark energy of the Sith world has clouded Dementat's mind to the truth about Alexia. He only trains her so that she might be unleashed into the Core. When he discovers her true purpose, he will be compelled to intervene. Alexander is convinced he can be swayed with the reality of his involvement. If Dementat wishes to be Emperor after the fall of Palpatine, he must act swiftly and return for Karen only when she is ready.

The door chime sounds, rousing him from thought.

"Enter."

A strikingly beautiful young woman steps into the office followed by a tall angular man.

Alexander smiles, rising from behind the desk.

"Miss Price, so lovely to see you again. Nice work on the capital."

Tenley, now a blond, offers a simple nod. She was a brunette for the Ames assignment. There were so many questions following that afternoon but not anymore. The weekly sessions with Max and Xam have done wonders. It appears as though their tech actually works. The implant is holding steady and the subject is in full compliance.

Her handler, Marius Guile, is a covert operative of an undisclosed branch of Imperial Operations. He is loyal only to the Director and carries out plans set forth to help maintain Alexander's double life. Marius has been a great many people over the years and remained close to the assets without ever being identified. He confirms the assignment went well and that Tenley performed to expectations.

Marius crosses his arms, "The team assigned to the Strike-Cruiser Abyss are all in place per your instruction. St. Claire will join them once the Federation project is complete."

"Excellent," Alexander says. "I have high hopes for them when the time is right."

He dismisses Tenley and Marius and sends them back into the Core for observation and one last assignment before the school year concludes. Loose ends make marvelous examples and would promote a fear and isolation that will set the stage for Alexia's grand entrance.

*

Coruscant

Surface: Underworld

The shadowy depths of the twilight place. An abandoned warehouse shot up by Stormtroopers months before. Castin receives an urgent call from Melanie as the stranger meditates in the corner. The call comes from the cloned com device he had given her when they first met. She is breathless, frantic and issues a warning.

The Empire knows. They are coming.

Most of the faction had moved on the night he entered the glitz and glamour of Galactic City and led Lucas Maxwell to the IMPC. He had intervened in Melanie's world after she walked away to spare him the inevitable repercussions of their involvement. This choice finally gained Melanie the respect of the faction but they could not understand why he couldn't leave it alone. Why he couldn't leave her alone. The stranger only tells him what his heart already knows.

Without her, no one stands a chance.


- TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

Tonight's the night.

Karen gazes at herself in the mirror as she fastens a chandelier earring. Thankfully the bruise healing on her cheek is defused by makeup. She doesn't want anything getting in the way of them having a good time. After all the excitement and horror and questions, they deserve a lovely night amongst their peers. Skyler appears in the mirror behind her wearing a fitted tuxedo. He looks so dapper that she can feel her heart expanding with love.

"Well, look at you. So debonair."

He laughs, moving closer.

"You are rather stunning yourself."

"Thanks. The stylists do work wonders. Is the limo here?"

"Not yet but I must say I'm surprised you are so willing to get back in one of those."

"It's just a transport and we're going to a formal event. You don't expect me to take public transit now do you? It's practically required we arrive in style."

"You bounce back remarkably quick."

Karen purses her lips, blots and turns around.

"The public wants to see us fumble in the face of tragedy. I am not going to give them the satisfaction."

"You are skilled at covering."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

He shrugs, "You handled the whole ISB situation pretty well considering you know exactly who they are talking about."

"Who do I know?"

"Castin Donn."

"I don't know him."

"But you know of him."

"Are you alluding to something?"

"I would prefer if you would just tell me."

Karen laughs, "There's nothing to tell!"

"Oh? Not even the fact that Melanie has been secretly dating this guy for who knows how long and you seem more than happy to keep that to yourself despite the warnings of Imperial Security? The guy's a criminal, Karen. I believe they even used the word insurgent. Now he's being blamed for the attack and still you say nothing?"

"Spying is so not your style."

"Not spying. Overheard."

"Tactful phrasing, babe. Who exactly did you share this juicy bit of information with?"

"I'm sharing it with you now."

"So I should be like, glad or something?"

"No, be serious with me for a moment. If you know this guy has a rep, why let your best friend go out with him?"

"It's not like I can forbid her from seeing him, Sky. Melanie has always had a thing for the righteous types. The guys who want to save worlds. Sure, he's kind of Rebel and that's so not okay with me but he's really not. La Revolte doesn't associate with the Alliance. They just...make a similar kind of noise."

He gasps, "ISB says they almost killed us."

"Oh, really, do you actually believe that?"

"Don't you?"

"I'm not sure but if it wasn't them then it would have been some deranged fan or an animal rights activist. We're popular! The capital is a crazy place. That's why we love it, right? Anything can happen."

"No offense, my love but I think you might be in serious denial."

"You would say something like that."

"Are you actually trying to convince me you don't sometimes see and hear what you want to?"

She grins, grabbing her purse, "Selective reality is a viable option."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really! Don't you want to stay in the bubble with me forever?"

He leans forward and kisses her softly, "I most certainly do."

*

"You think our parents would let us change schools if we told them the truth?"

D'Arcy struggles to slip into her heels, "What?"

"The truth," Billy says. "You know, that our friends are actually Force sensitive celebrities who constantly put us in danger? That truth."

"They told us that in confidence and applies to only two of them. You know how much trouble they could be in if that gets out. Frankly, I'm surprised the Empire has been so relaxed about their abilities but seeing as neither has pursued this I don't think it's an issue. That is, unless you have one. You are being kind of ridiculous and more than a little judgmental."

He pulls on his jacket, "Am I? Sometimes I don't think I'm being ridiculous enough."

"Bill, NCH is the best school in the Core. Almost all of their graduates go on to first-rate Universities or Imperial Academies-"
 
"And that's all its about, right? Good school, good university, good life. A little violence justifies our superior education?"
 
She softens, turning to face him.

"Of course it's not everything. There is more to life than academics."

"Yet you are willing to risk that life on a daily basis to associate with them?"

"That's harsh and you are generalizing. They care about us. I know you care about them too. You know how difficult it is to find good friends let alone ones who will stand by you no matter what? It's not common in our bourgeois world. They don't judge or think less of us. They've supported us in everything we've done. That's got to count for something. Karen told me things wouldn't be the same without us."

"And you believe her?"

"Yes, I believe her. I have faith in my friends."

"You aren't jealous? Just a little bit?"

"Jealousy is petty. We get enough attention without all the binding clothing. The whole glam life has never been my thing and you know that. I'm happy being who I am and being with you. Doors are opened for us. We can grow up and be whatever we want. Doesn't that excite you?"

"The perks of association are starting to rival the negatives."

She frowns, "What about Skyler? Reef? Lucas? These are your best friends. Would you really walk away from them out of some underlying fear of the unknown?"

"I don't want to die, D."

She touches the side of his face.

"Neither do I."

"Then why do I feel like our friends are going to end up costing us everything?"
 
*

Reef watches Valerie pad casually across her bedroom nude, completely blown away by how beautiful she actually is. He can hear Kimber giggling with the Raga'Ana stylists in the living room over the steady electro beats. The tux he has on is freshly pressed and tailored to his frame. He looks good and he knows it. There is a flicker of worry as he ponders his role in the plot he's been keeping from everyone and how it would affect his relationship with Valerie.

Despite her brashness and his temper, something about them works. They are both aggressive and passionate, favoring to live in the moment as opposed to questioning every move they make.

"Val..."

She pauses, barely. "Yes?"

"What if I wasn't who you thought I was?"

"No one is."

"And you're cool with that?"

Valerie pulls a shimmering black slip dress over her curves slowly and methodically, making sure he catches every moment. She adjusts her breasts accordingly for maximum spillage.

"I'm cold as ice, baby. Lighten up."

The words are lodged in the back of his throat but he stops himself. There are others at stake here as well. His boys mean a lot to him. More so than he would ever admit. They make him feel less alone in the Core, far from his family on Mandalore. He thought he could skate this without getting attached. Without caring for any of them. He's not sure he can say that with absolute certainty anymore. Almost losing them in the attack struck deeper than he wishes to acknowledge but there it is.

His assignment is to keep them together. Suddenly he wonders what happens if he does.


- TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

Lucas arrives at the Galatea Suite uncertain but hopeful. He taps the door controls and waits patiently. The evening had not started out quite as planned but there is still time to turn it around. His parents had insisted he attend the cotillion despite the circumstances. The door hisses open to reveal a stunning Kimber. She dons a flowing pink gown and a perplexed expression.

"Lucas, hi! Like, what's up? I thought we were meeting you there."

"Can I come in?"

She steps aside, "Of course."

The suite is warm and filled with a mild yet intoxicating floral scent. He walks into the living room. She has followed him and looks just as confused.

"Do you have a date tonight?"

"Uh, no. Mine...couldn't make it."

"Same here."

"I thought you were going with Melanie?"

"Yes but she's not feeling well and canceled."

"Canceled? But this is like, super important!"

"I know. I'm worried."

Kimber moves toward the table consol, presumably to place a call but Lucas stops her.
 
"Did I mention how amazing you look?"

"No but feel free."

Lucas smiles, "You are gorgeous. A vision. Venko is a fool. Care to be my date?"

"Wait, what?"

"Come on, Kim. Everyone knows about your crush."

"That's not the part I need clarification on."

"Oh, right. Unless you want to go alone?"

She sighs, "I really don't and it's not like I can just take anyone. The boys in our class are so...icky."

"Then go with me. Look it doesn't have to mean anything. We would just be going as friends. Friends doing a favor for each other."

"And they say romance is dead."

"Play the part for tonight. It's not like this is outside your range or anything. Like you said, it's important. Athletics is only part of my application process. I can't rely on it though. My parents stressed the need for a strong social presence since so many Academy recruiters are alumni."

"I wish my parents made such a fuss about it but they do have a point. We're being judged tonight."

"So you'll go?"

"Yes, I'll go with you...."

"But?"

"I still think what you did with Valerie and Reef is detestable."

The moment the words leave her lips, Valerie and Reef appear in the hall. Kimber and Lucas turn around and flash unconvincing smiles. There is an awkwardness that permeates everything.

"So," Valerie says slyly. "What are we discussing?"

"Lucas asked me to the formal."

Reef nods, "Right on."

"What about Melanie?"

"Yeah, what about Melanie?"

Lucas frowns, "She's not feeling well."

"Oh really?"

"That's...what she said. Why?"

"No reason."

Valerie storms back down the hall into her bedroom and closes the door. Reef shrugs, adjusting his tux. Lucas retrains his gaze on Kimber and lowers his voice.

"You are completely entitled to your opinion but I'm asking that you forgo the distain for one evening. Please?"

"I already said yes."

"Thank you."

Reef groans, fishing the flask out of his suit jacket.

"Enough with the cutesy bullshit you two. It's time to shine."

*

Valerie is stomping around her bedroom with Melanie on speaker.

"Do we have to have the talk? You remember what I said? I'll tell Karen and have her so far up your ass you won't be able to think straight!"

"I'm not on drugs!" Melanie screams. "And it's because I stopped taking the pills that I can't be out in public tonight. I look horrible and can't keep anything down. There is no way I can perform in front of high society like this!"

"Withdraw is a bitch. Say no more. I'm just..."

"Concerned? I'm touched. Just go to the formal and cover for me. I'll be fine soon."

She smirks, "Good cuz you are just getting interesting."

*

Karen struts across the platform with Skyler in tow. The hoverlimo is idling, ready to go. When she slides inside, she takes a cursory look around the interior and immediately notices what seems to be missing. Before she can say anything, Valerie clutches her wrist.

"We don't have time for a fit."

Karen nods and takes Skyler's hand as the door latches and the limo begins to ascend. It pulls away from the platform and slips across the skyline of Galactic City.


- TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Old Orsic Theater

Spotlights sway across the stark night sky.

Throngs of press clamor to capture photage of the prestigious alumni. Grand Moffs, Academy Dean's and high ranking Imperial officials are all in attendance. This spectacle is softened by the bright-eyed student body walking the red carpets in pairs toward the theater. As soon as Karen steps out of the hoverlimo the media goes absolutely ballistic. Flashes explode from the cams. The Esplanade attack is still fresh in their minds and no one has gotten the exclusive. No one has talked. To anyone. Their names are shouted out followed by questions that are impossibly complex. The public demands a statement but Karen will give them no such thing. She smiles broadly and waves before being ushered through the polished double doors. Caprial Bronson falls into step beside her, clutching the arm of Crusader Chin-Bret forward Blake Tyderian. They exchange excited compliments as they move toward the security checkpoint.

Inside, Agent Venko is waiting for them. He nods professionally until he catches sight of Kimber on the arm of Lucas Maxwell. While his face remains a mask, his stomach clenches into knots. She briefly makes eye contact as they pass into the grand banquet hall and for a moment he wishes he had accepted her invitation.

Strains of music pour through the lavishly decorated room as the young couples greet and bow before extending a hand to have the first dance. The alumni applauds from the sidelines and watch closely as the Imperial youth twirl around the room in a carefully coordinated routine passed down through the generations.

Billy makes a face and D'Arcy tries not to laugh. He is beginning to loosen up and she is grateful. Reef's hand slides over the curves of Valerie's ass. She glares seductively at him which only causes further tightness in his pants. Karen spins outward before being pulled back against Skyler and dipped low. She is determined to present well while he ponders what greater danger lies beyond the beautiful surface. Lucas and Kimber admit truths to themselves. He would rather be here with Melanie and she with Venko. He whispers that if they are patient, perhaps both their dreams will come true.

As they change partners for the second dance, Valerie stops in front of Lucas and extends a hand. They step slowly across the floor in continuous patterns. She leans close and tells him Melanie is meant for another. This runs deeper than his infatuation. He wants to know how she has come to this conclusion. Valerie tells him she doesn't need the Force to have a feeling.

The evening climaxes in the arrival of Emperor Palpatine who sits at the head of the room as the ladies are introduced. Escorted by their dates, the names are announced and they bow before the Emperor. It's all pomp and circumstance but tradition none the less. Vader stands silently beside his master, Karen's crimson hair reflected in the slick surface of the mask as her name is read aloud. They spend much more time gazing at her than any of the others. The moments seem to drag on for an eternity. Skyler tries not to shiver as he struggles to maintain composure. Karen is radiant and oblivious but perfectly presentable. They move away unobstructed but Skyler cannot shake the lingering feelings of dread. He does not want to know what those looks mean or what possible role his girlfriend, the only girl he's ever loved, has to play in their increasingly twisted games.

In the cotillions conclusion, several key alumni make speeches about the importance of youth as the future of the Empire before presenting both classes in their entirety. The hall erupts into thunderous applause. Key figures have taken mental notes that shall be discussed for weeks. Bidding will begin for coveted spots in specialized programs. Recommendations for higher education hinge on this evenings performances. For some, this was their last chance. Others get to do it all again the following year.

Either way, the pressure is on. 

Agent Venko and his team whisk the capital kids away. He allows himself a small smile in the face of such a perfectly executed evening. Not a single hitch. What would comfort some only make Venko more suspicious. If La Revolte or any associates really wished them harm, they would have seized such a spectacular opportunity. Another attack, this time in the presence of the Emperor himself, would have made a powerful point. Yet it all unfolded so seamlessly.

Who really lurks in the doorways of decadence?

*

Surface: Five Hundred Republica

In the low-lit Masterton suite, Melanie is in the throes of withdraw.

Stomach cramping, she lies curled up on the cool tiled floor of the bathroom. A thin layer of sweat lines her brow as she begins to writhe and shake. Pulling herself up, she manages to make it to the toilet to vomit. Her fingers slip from the basin and she falls to the floor, golden curls matted and tangled. She gasps for air and wonders how she got here.

Visions of darkness, swirling around the corners of her mind, reveal nine friends illuminated by overhead lights. Soulful shrieks fade into choir music as the bass of a familiar beat rises up. Something stirs in the pulsing blackness. It pulls away five and leaves The Four. A mechanical arm snatches Valerie by the throat, dragging her into the darkness. Kimber jumps, startled, before scampering off. The chiseled frame of a uniformed man flashes through the sliver of light before it winks out. The darkness closes in as Melanie stares across at an eerily calm Karen.

"It's just you and me, best friend."

"We can't let this happen."

A gloved hand reaches around to clamp over Karen's mouth and wrench her head back. Alexia's face appears just over her left shoulder.

"It can. It will. And there is nothing you can do."

Melanie shutters, balling her hands into fists.

"Yes there is..."

"What?"

"I can stop you."

"You don't have the guts, blondie."

"You don't know me."

"Neither do they. Not really."

Alexia's smile is nothing short of sinister.

"Playing for the other team will cost you everything."

"I don't believe you."

"Wait and see."

"No..."

"Oh, yes. Soon. And the beauty of it all is that you can only save one of them."

Her eyes widen as Alexia steps back and pulls Karen into the darkness with her. She is left alone illuminated in the light with nothing left to do but scream.

Melanie thrashes out, slamming into the bathroom walls. She sobs uncontrollably, clinging to the memory of Castin as means to calm herself down. Fear is joined by the crushing guilt that she has turned her back on the awesome responsibility entrusted to her by the Queen. The reality is she has the power to stop it.

The question is, will she?


-TBC

[Syren]

"Oh, there's a hellhound on the loose. Better put on your dancin shoes. Yeah, she's comin down after you. Better put on your dancin shoes."

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

The consecutive seventeenth birthdays of The Four arrive to mixed reactions. Everyone is feeling a little exposed given the increased media attention following the attack. The pressure of their peers combined with the paranoia that they are being hunted by an unseen enemy continues to plague them. Instead of a blowout party, they opt for a quiet dinner with the crew at Flux. The fusion restaurant opened last week to rave reviews. Once they expressed interest, the public relations reps get on the com to make arrangements. They do not need to ask for the A-table.

It is offered without question.

Dressed to the nine's in the very latest Raga'Ana couture, Karen, Melanie, Kimber and Valerie stand in a line outside the restaurant as the prerequisite photage is taken. Most of the restaurant stares at them through the walls of transparasteel. D'Arcy, Billy, Skyler, Lucas and Reef hang back patiently knowing this is all part of the package. There is only mild annoyance now. No statements are issued as the group saunters into a packed dining room filled with onlookers who seem to be waiting for something terrible to happen.

Melanie feels it instantly as conversation around them falls into hushed whispers. She missteps and almost takes a tumble but Valerie is there to steady her. A part of Melanie feels grateful that some of the walls between her and Valerie have come to down. The other knows damn well there is always something in it for her. Valerie can be motivated by extremely superficial things. The continued gawking draws her back into the moment and she maintains a focus on sitting upright at the massive circular table they now surround. Two of Venko's men stand on either side of the booth with steely gazes powerful enough to drive the diners back to their own lives and meals.

Karen is determined to keep the good times rolling. The outrageous fun had by all at the cotillion gives her hope everyone will ditch the stigma attached to their near-death experience and move on. Although Lucas is sitting beside Melanie, his eyes find their way to Kimber who giggles at the joke Billy just finished telling.

What do Star Destroyers wear to parties? A bow TIE!

Reef groans, leaning into a smirking Valerie. Skyler shakes his head. D'Arcy taps a spoon against her glass as she raises it to the table. A toast to friends. To each other. May they always be there for each other. Everyone joins in, smiling and laughing, as they revel in their camaraderie.

Pause. Cut. Print.

*

Later, riding high on the moment and champagne someone convinced the wait staff to bring them, Karen finds a message from her father on the central com. Alexander warmly wishes her a happy birthday as if everything is as it should be. There is no apology or explanation for missing the event nor any indication if her mother shares this sentiment. She taps the com on and keys up his channel. It goes straight to voicemail. Scoffing angrily, she deletes the message and wanders around the inside of the cavernous and empty residence.

*

A similar message awaits Melanie.

Celeste sounds clipped and strained but trying desperately to be cheerful. This unsettles her even more. The words of the Queen echo in her head as she confessed that her husband had been playing them all along. She is racked with shivers. The room is suddenly freezing and she hugs herself tightly. Pieces of the information contained within the holocron are sinking in. Without the pills keeping things loose, she is bombarded with waves of truth.

Overwhelmed, Melanie rushes through the residence into the master bathroom where she digs through a cabinet to retrieve her emergency stash. Valerie had come over after they were released from the hospital to ensure Melanie flushed everything. The afternoon was filled with surprise and shouting. She even took away her mother's prescription datacards. The hypocrisy alone was enough to choke on. But she did not take this last bottle. Can't take what you can't find. The last of the numbing agents to take the pain away. She fumbles with the bottle, roughly snapping the top off. Dumping several out into her trembling hand, she stands and moves to the sink. There is a pause as she glances up at herself - the wide and shimmering blue eyes, the quivering lip, golden curls swirling around her perfectly oval face.

The tortured soul.

Some Imperial she turned out to be.

It's in that moment she realizes this isn't what she wants. None of it. Some she must deal with purely out of contractual obligation. The rest can be set aside for the sake of the greater good. Screaming, Melanie hurls the pills against the wall and storms out of the bathroom. Tears well up in her eyes but she doesn't even bother containing them. The vision of Alexia stings deep and she grinds her teeth at the accusation, real or imagined.

You don't have the guts, blondie.

Her sobs morph into kind of a cackling as she finds the purple shoe box in her closet. She pulls off the lid to reveal the off the grid com unit she's not supposed to have. A relief washes her.

One of the pretty faces of the Empire no longer wants to play.

Melanie remembers to breathe as the line connects.

"I need to see you."

*

Valerie pulls the smoldering pipe away from her polished lips and smiles. A thin trail of smoke snakes its way up into the humid room. Reef licks the liquid candy they just ruined five thousand credit sheets with off the underside of her chin. She leans forward to kiss him, passing the hit between them. He is still cuffed to the bed but doesn't struggle. Arching her back, Valerie sets the pipe on the nightstand with the lightest touch before she demands he fuck her again.

*

Slipping the security detail after they dropped her off at the Hyperion building, Kimber pulls on a red hooded cape and boldly ventures out into the night. She arrives at Venko's apartment with purpose. The door is slightly ajar and porch light smashed out which instantly dents the mood. The passion is replace by a low-level fear she is about to walk into a holoplex slasher.

Hesitantly, she steps through the door and into the apartment.

Agent Venko is hunched down over the ground holding the remnants of a monitor. The entire residence is torn apart, pictures smashed, clothes strewn about, drawers pulled out, the works. The reports Ames had on Masterton, information on the Linus slaying, the datacard containing the vid of Alexia Winton's NCH indiscretion, possible leads in the Price cold case, articles on the Cole murder, alleged information tying the Esplanade attack to La Revolte - gone.

All of it.

Something becomes very clear to him. He stands, turning to find her there.

"Kimber..."

"Nik, what happened?"

"I found it like this. Someone broke in."

"Did they, uh, take anything?"

"Yes."

"We should like, call someone. The authorities maybe."

He stares through her momentarily.

"I am the authority."

She frowns sharply.

"Then who do you call?"

"The Director."

"Sounds serious."

"I may have been compromised."

"What...does that even mean?"

"We have to get out of here right now."

Kimber starts shaking her head and backing away. He closes the distance between them and kisses her fiercely. This calms her down and keeps her firmly in place. He holds the side of her face as he breaks away.

"It's going to be alright."

She clutches at a button on his shirt, glancing around the room.

"Is it?"

He takes her hand and leads her back through the door.

"It is now."





-TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Underworld   

Dressed in all white at the stroke of midnight, Melanie Masterton returns to Castin Donn. She weaves her way through the depths of the twilight place to find him, pulled by strings no one can see. He is waiting anxiously when she appears. They run to each other. A feeling passes between them, one that alleviates and absolves. All that matters is that they are together now. She clings tightly to him.

"I can be part of this Empire no longer."

He whispers softly in her ear.

"Then come with me."

Castin leads her through a set of decaying tunnels until they arrive as his current safe house. If one could even call it that. He has had to change locations several times over the last few weeks. The members of his faction are being hunted down by Imperial death squads. Thanks to Melanie's warning, most were able to get out in time. Still he must remain and fight to get the truth out. The public needs to know what kind of people govern their every move. His love for her is more than worth the risk. He brings her here so that she might also find her calling. Her true purpose.

A destiny realized.

Inside, the stranger awaits. He stands calmly in the center of the room wearing brown and tan robes. Melanie glances over him, trying to get a reading but there is nothing but a warm neutral haze. It's like he's not even there.

"Who are you?"

He unfolds his arms, robes parting to reveal a thick brown belt to which a telling accessory is clipped.

"They call me Master Corrin."

Melanie gasps.

"Jedi? We were told there were none left."

"The Empire lies but I think you know that now. "

"How are you here? Surely the Emperor-"

"Palpatine is blind to many things but his singular focus can work to our advantage. They do not fear you or your friends yet. Not the way they should."

"How do you know?"

"If they did you would be dead. They can't see past their own power, past the Alliance trying to take that power from them. This mistake will be our opportunity."

Corrin pulls the holocron Castin had kept hidden for her from a bag, holding it out.

"Your mother first showed this to me when I met her on Naboo. A rather twisted tale, isn't it? One that holds potential for darkness the likes of which we have never seen. Your father provided the scientific means through which I am able to move about so freely."

"You saw...my parents?"

"Only your mother. You look just like her. She and the Queen are deeply concerned about choices they have made. Choices they cannot take back. To right these wrongs they must place hope in one. They place it in you."

Melanie sinks slowly to her knees, tears spilling down her flushed cheeks.

"What if I can't? What if I am not worthy?"

"They have faith in you as I have faith. The Jedi scattered throughout the galaxy have been working on a way to extract you when the time is right. We wish to train you so that your light can shine brightly throughout the galaxy. You are more than worthy."

She glances at Castin. He flashes a reassuring smile.

"You were never an Imperial. It's not in your heart."

"You believed in me..."

"I believe in you now. I knew you would return. You just needed time."

"But I almost-"

"I know."

"I'm so sorry. For everything."

"Don't be. I'm not."

Master Corrin kneels before her, taking her hands in his.

"You must let go of the past and focus on the moment. The present is where it will all take place. There are dark times ahead and you will need to be aware of what surrounds you. Keep watch for the signs, you will know what to do when you see them."

Her eyes burn, lip trembling.

"Will they die?"

"More will if you turn away."

"My visions say-"

Corrin grips her hands firmly.

"So much of this is subject to interpretation. Prophecy is seldom clear but the Jedi are working hard to pull meaning from these passages. The only central unifying theme is that you must remain close to those who are named. You and three others."

"What will you have me do?"

"Return to your friends, your life, as if nothing has changed. They and the Empire must suspect nothing if any of you are to survive what is coming. Heed the signs, let your mind be your guide and protect them as best you can. We will be waiting on the other side."

Castin swallows hard when he realizes what he is asking her to do. The Jedi are sending her back in. They have to. She is only one who can move about with her Force signature exposed. The Empire already knows about it. They aren't looking for her and would not expect it. Not with the fleets chasing rebels across the galaxy. Melanie gazes at the Jedi Master, everything suddenly rendered calm and certain. She feels all roads have lead here and allows acceptance to wash over her. The warmth of the light fights back the fear. Her heart pounds in anticipation.

"I will do my part but I need something from you."

He tilts his head.

"Get my parents out of there."

"It has already been arranged. We wait on the Queen's signal."

Corrin freezes, hand automatically going to his belt. Castin draws his weapon. Melanie turns.

"What is it?"

"They are here."


- TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

The light of morning produces shades of gray.

Valerie wanders into the living room of the Galatea Suite to find Agent Venko slumbering peacefully on the couch with Kimber curled up next to him. For a moment she's overcome with pride until Kimber opens her eyes, smiles, realizes where she is and bolts upright.

"This isn't what it looks like."

"Oh?" Valerie says with a smirk. "What does it look like?"

"His place got robbed."

"And he just had to stay here?"

Kimber carefully extracts herself and talks in a frantic whisper.

"Well, it was an option. The safest option! I was scared someone was coming after us again by trying to get to him. I felt better knowing he was nearby."

"Clearly."

Reef pads out completely naked with binders dangling from one wrist. He freezes, assessing the situation and grabs a pillow to cover his junk.

"I was just, uh, you know, getting some water. Who's thirsty?"

Kimber crosses her arms, "I suppose there's a reason for him too."

"We're...complicated."

Reef laughs, "That's how we like it."

"I'm so glad. Now, let's try not to make a scene-"

Venko rouses, blinking rapidly at the movement and conversation. He sits up, smiles at Kimber, nods to Reef and then glares at Valerie.

"This isn't what it looks like."

"So we hear. Having security issues with your residence? I thought you'd at least have someone posted outside. You are the head of our security detail, are you not?"

"Resources have been allocated elsewhere. Your safety is top priority."

"I'm flattered."

"No, you are snide and completely out of line. Again."

"Says the agent in bed with a minor."

"We weren't-"

Kimber steps in front of them, "Hey! That's enough, Val. Nothing happened. And if you want to blame someone blame me. I asked him to stay. He works really hard to keep us safe. You think you'd be able to cavort with Reef, Lucas, and Maker knows who else if it wasn't for him? Not a chance."

"Ooo," Reef says lowly. "She's on fire today."

"Point made, Kimmy. Calm down."

"Calm down? Calm down?! You dish and awful lot of shit despite everything that's happened."

"Did you just hear that?"

Reef nods, "Kim cursing. I never thought I'd live to see the day."

"Stop treating me like you do Melanie."

"Trust me, I'm not."

Kimber makes a face, "That was hardly convincing."

"I can do better. Want me to try again?"

"No, I want you to consider the situation before you start pointing fingers. Not everything has to be a dramatic free-for-all. Some things are plain and simple."

Valerie purses her lips, "Maybe to you."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

A huffy standoff commences. Reef backs out of the room slowly, slinking down the hall. Venko's com is bleeping loudly from the table. He grabs at it, noting the twelve messages and all the calls he missed. Grumbling, he lumbers up off the couch and motions to the girls.

"I'll...just be a minute."

Valerie sneers, "Take your time, lover boy."

Kimber snaps, screaming up an adorable storm. Outside, Venko listens to the reports from his agents in the field. Masterton was not in her residence come morning. They are actively but discreetly searching for her now. There are many apologies but no explanation as to how she eluded an entirely new detail. He is angry but hardly shocked. The break-in crosses his mind but he dismisses Masterton as a suspect just as quickly. It doesn't fit her profile.

The latest message is from The Director demanding he make contact immediately.

Moments later, Venko is being connected. The Director is none too pleased.

"Where have you been?"

Something tells him to spin it.

"My apologies, sir. Break-in at my personal residence. I had to ensure the protection of Imperial assets as this could have been another attempt by La Revolte. Imperial agents have been their targets before and I could not risk it. Security was tightened and I came in to personally oversee their safety."

The Director seems calmer now, as if something had been confirmed.

"We concluded the same but uncovered a larger connection. We believe La Revolte sold information about the assets to the Hapan Consortium."

Venko is caught off guard with the development. Hapes is a twist he didn't see coming. The Dark Queen's malevolence and power had been widely discussed through various channels that bordered on superstitious gossip. There was never any real indication that her minions would leave the Cluster or that she would be concerned with the happenings of nine schoolchildren.

"Sir, is the information viable?"

"I do not appreciate your lack of faith but yes, Intel picked up signals from Consortium spies within Galactic City and when ISB moved in to apprehend they had fled leaving only surveillance behind."

"That's very troubling."

"There's more. The surveillance photage had a focus."

"Do we know the target?"

"We believe their target is Winton."



-TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City: Five Hundred Republica

Karen stares dreamily through the massive windows of the Winton residence at the slate gray Imperial sky. Her life couldn't be going better. Well, okay, so it's not entirely perfect. There are always setbacks, minor as they may be. Strange and macabre occurrences, an astounding lack of parental involvement, the occasional attempt on her life. The typical Coruscanti teen! Fame and credits really do make it more tolerable. There is only the allusion of an invasion of their privacy. The media doesn't know everything. Most of their moves are carefully coordinated. They have weekly meetings with an image consultant. No one says anything they aren't told to say. To the press, at least. The brilliant system has kept their biggest secrets safe and the public crying out for more.

Life is so much easier to live with a publicist, stylist and soundtrack.

Still, there is much more bubbling beneath the slick veneer. Those issues she is hesitant to address. She often wonders what her parents are doing. They always seem happy to hear her voice although they seldom call and never answer their com units. They could be traveling the worlds while one daughter is used as an instrument of pure evil and the other shops herself into a coma. She wonders if it even matters. Maybe everyone is getting what they want. Alexia gets go nuts, courtesy of the taxpayer. The parental units have rendered themselves obsolete in most ways. Karen can buy whatever she wants whenever she wants it and has a fleet of personnel at her disposal. The executives at Raga'Ana sign her permission slips and excuse her absences. Maxi Marx attends parent-teacher conferences. Venko's security detail transport her everywhere. Her friends are always available for advice since they seem to come from parents with equally askew priorities. Throw in a loving boyfriend, impeccable style, social status, the adoration of millions and the scales slip back into a sick little balance. Can there really be a loser in a game with so many prizes?

Karen tries to remember the last time she heard the word 'no.'

The front door unlocks and hisses open. Someone stumbles into the foyer, crashing against the wall. Karen lunges from the couch, ready to do some serious damage or at the very least scream bloody murder. Blonde curls spill over the figures hunched shoulders.

"Mel?"

Melanie is panting, out of breath. The white outfit she's wearing is wrinkled and singed. She holds her right arm tenderly. The door closes behind her, the foyer filling up with silence. Karen moves toward her instinctively. Melanie shutters violently and nods as the tears spills down her cheeks.

"They got out."

"Who? Who got out?"

That's when Karen notices the sleeve is ripped beneath the smudged fingers that cover it. The flesh is rigid, burned. Karen breathes in a gasp and rushes to her friend.

"Oh shit, you're wounded. Melanie, what happened?"

"I was shot."

"Shot? Holy Maker mother of the universe! How the hell did you get shot? I thought you went shopping?!"

"I bought shoes."

"What color?"

"Purple."

Karen tilts her head, frowning.

"But what will you wear with them?"

Melanie shrugs helplessly, crying harder.

"I don't....know."

Karen eases Melanie down into the living room and helps her onto the couch. She turns and taps on the desk consol to order a medi-droid on the downlow.

"Let me see."

Melanie removes her hand. The skin is seared and blacked across her upper arm.

"How did this happen?"

"You can't tell anyone!"

Karen holds up a hand, "I swear."

"I was with Castin."

"Castin shot you?! What an asshole! I'll kill him!!"

"Castin didn't shoot me. I was just with him when I got shot."

"Wait, I thought you guys broke up?"

"It's a long story, Kar and beside the point. I went to see him and that's when the death squad showed up. You know, those dark troopers. They have been hunting his faction for weeks now."

"Oh my, St. Claire's report..."

"Exactly. I don't even know who they take orders from but all they are meant to do is exterminate. The blaster fire was deafening. Castin got me out."

"You said 'they.' Who else was there?"

Melanie tenses, "No one."

"You're sure?"

Flashes of the troopers bursting through the door of the safehouse. The green glow of Master Corrin's saber as it twirled through the air, finding their targets easily. Castin grabbed her hand. Corrin deflected most of the enemy blasts and shouted for Castin to get her to safety. As they ran, more came. The streets were filled with dark troopers. They almost cornered them in an ally but Castin had a shortcut. A stray blast bounced off a crashed speeder and took Melanie down. She screamed as Castin kept firing.

"Positive. We were alone."

Karen cringes at the sight of her arm, "And what happened to Castin?"

"I don't know. He got me back to the Esplanade and I couldn't find him in the crowds. I managed to get back here without being spotted."

"How did you do that? Venko's team has this place covered."

"There are ways. Sometimes I think it's too easy..."

Karen looks confused.

Melanie shakes her head.

"Never mind. You can't say anything. They are only going to ask me questions I don't want to answer."

"I get it, I get it. No questions. No problem."

The medical droid shows up and lumbers rigidly toward the couch. Before it can ask, Karen clamps her hand over the rectangular opening where its mouth should be.

"This is how it's going to go. You are going to fix her up as best you can and there will be no questions. Understood?"

The droid nods. She lets go of the metallic face she didn't realize she had been squeezing. Melanie holds out her arm for the droid to scan. It pumps her full of painkillers, both Karen and the droid unaware of her recovery, and sterilizes the wound. She slumps against the couch, wincing, but the pain begins to subside into a familiar haze.

"I'm afraid she will need further treatment at the hospital. The wound is not critical but would require bacta treatments to restore the flesh."

"I can't go to IMPC!"

"But you'll never be able to go sleeveless again!"

"The hospital is going to want to know how it happened!"

"We'll make something up."

"Like what?"

"You could have been accidentally hit when a blaster went off on the Esplanade. That place is totes crazy! Never underestimate a desperate shopper at a one day sale."

"Karen, there are cams everywhere. If shots were fired there are going to be reports. It's too heavily patrolled for an incident like that to go unnoticed."

"No one came running when we crashed and burned all over it."

Melanie attempts a laugh, "Kind of makes you wonder, doesn't it?"

The door chime sounds. Everyone freezes and glances toward the foyer. The medical droid is about to speak when Karen kicks it over and pounces on top of it. She reaches around the back of its neck to switch it off. The droid goes slack in her arms.

Melanie is freaking out, "What do we do?"

"Hide in my room! I'll ditch the droid. And don't worry about the hospital. I'll get Maxi on it right away. She's the best person to know if you want to cover something up. We'll have you good as new before the next photage shoot."

Karen strains as she drags the medical droid across the tiled floor and Melanie staggers down the hall. She is going to have to think of something and quick. The door chime sounds twice in a row. Someone is impatient. She drops the metallic body behind the couch and rushes back into the foyer.

Agent Venko waits on the other side of the door, strumming his fingers on the frame.

"Venko! What a lovely surprise."

"Good day, your Highness. May I come in?"

She looms in the doorway, trying to take up as much space as possible.

FAIL.

"I'm in the middle of something."

He notices she is flushed, sweating.

"I can see that. May I ask what?"

"Exercise because....fitness benefits everyone."

She is wearing a pleated miniskirt, a fuzzy button up sweater and heels. His brow furrows in suspicion, voice dropping several octaves.

"Really?"

"Yes, really! Oh, the heels? I've got to practice my balance. No one wants to face plant on the runway."

"I see. Have you heard from miss Masterton today?"

"No, why?"

It was too quick, almost rehearsed.

"I'm curious as to where she has been all day. She did not return home last night."

Karen tugs on a strand of crimson hair, pulling at it.

"That's sooo weird. Should I have her call you if I see her?"

Venko narrows his eyes and smiles.

"That would be most helpful, thank you. There were reports of a girl matching her description involved in an incident early this morning."

"An...incident?"

"Yes, involving La Revolte. You do know who they are, don't you?"

Karen smirks, "I sat through the lecture."

"They are very dangerous, your Highness. Not because of who they are but because of what they know. Information is more powerful than you might think."

"What do they know exactly?"

"Possibly things about you."

"Well, it's not like it's a crime to be well-dressed and popular! I doubt anyone will even care. I mean, aside from those that already do."

"It is, however, a crime to possess certain abilities," Venko says sharply, arching a brow. "Abilities which have been deemed illegal by Imperial law. In the past those with said abilities have been...handled."

Karen's eyes widen.

"And if someone were allowed to possess such abilities without consequence then that information might be worth something to someone. Worth enough to kill for."

She is gripping the doorway tightly, mouth open.

"Well, I'll let you get back to your routine. Do let me know if miss Masterton turns up. Good day, your Highness."

Agent Venko turns and strides down the hall, leaving the princess stunned and speechless. A semi-sinister smile creeps onto his face. It should shake her into a state of awareness he had hoped would come a lot sooner than this. She is lost in the delusion of it all, completely oblivious to the real and true threats swirling around all of them. There is a premeditation in the direction this is heading.

Cole. Price. Linus. Ames. La Revolte. The Consortium.

Nikoli Venko gets the distinct feeling they are all being led astray.



-TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

Maxi Marx handles everything. She pays off a private bacta clinic and orchestrates the healing of Melanie Masterton's wounds without so much as an errant whisper. She covers it all up. Maxi turns and clasps her hands together, large chunky bracelets sliding off her thin wrists.

"I want to thank you for coming to me with this, Karen. It's important that you do. I can keep you all safe."

Karen is staring at Melanie's form floating in the glowing pink liquid.

"That's what Venko says."

"And does he?"

Karen smiles slyly, "We're not dead yet."

"Yet you're not entirely safe either."

"As safe as we'll ever be in a world like this with a life like ours. There is always a level of acceptable risk."

Maxi laughs, "True enough. Popularity has its price."

"We can afford it."

"But can you handle it? The load isn't light."

"We're tougher than we look."

"Oh, I'm well aware of that. Resourceful and profitable too. If you continue dominating sales, the four of you will own the Core."

They lock eyes.

"Plan on it."

Karen is grateful for the fashion director's praises but the whole moment is oppressed by the baggage Venko dumped on her and rendered surreal by Melanie's brush with the death squads. Things are getting weird again. What the hell did Venko mean? Their powers are supposedly confidential. The Emperor preferred it and her father insisted. The crew signed notarized agreements. No one gives the press anything anyway. They know how to work it, how to play to game. Karen suddenly wonders just how much Melanie told this Castin Donn person. More importantly, who did Castin tell?

At school the following Monday, everything seems right as rain. People keep their usual distance with the flow of wonderment and jealousy uninterrupted. Melanie resumes the pretense of a normal life just as she was instructed to do by Master Corrin. The crew is none the wiser. Karen considers confronting her about the whole Le Revolte thing but their first world problems are derailed by the arrival of standardized testing. If it wasn't so damn important she would just skip it and cause a scene but alas, she isn't completely devoid of priorities. The crew is totally freaking out. People forgo the nightlife for study groups and personal tutors. Credits can only buy you so much in this world. After all, everyone who attends North Coruscant is wealthy. There has to be something more. Distinction is everything. Something to set them apart from the crowd. Athletic, artistic, academic or musical ability take those who possess such skills quite far. Others have to get creative. A solid exam score coupled with, say, Varsity Cheer squad and a lucrative modeling contract with a staple that has a reputation for generous charitable donations would be just the thing an academy dean is looking for. Karen hits the material with Skyler, Kimber and Lucas. D'Arcy presides over the other study group with Melanie, Valerie, Reef and Billy. They felt it was best to split up based on area of expertise. Skyler retains a surprising amount of historical facts for an artist and D'Arcy excels in math and science. The group rotates every other day in hopes everything will stick.

The week of exams, a fevered hush falls over the campus. If one listens close enough they can almost hear the synapses firing. A faint burning scent lingers as the junior class exhausts all mental efforts.

Thus why Karen pre-planned a celebration at the Winton Suite for the coming Friday. The invitations have already gone out, giving everyone something to look forward to. The crew could really use a chance to unwind. After the final exam, Reef and Lucas head over to the Magnus Arena to blow off some steam in the gym. There are several hours to kill before the party and the girls need about as much time to get ready.

A tall, broad shouldered man in a pressed fleet uniform is waiting for them in the main lobby. He looks as though he has been carved from stone, flesh pulled over a statue. His nod stops them both in their tracks.

"Good afternoon, mister Stratford. Mister Maxwell."

They exchange glances.

Reef smirks, "Uh, hey."

"Hello."

"Congratulations on a great season. Both of you have taken the Crusaders far this year."

"Thanks and no offense but, who are you? I take it you aren't from the Administrative offices?"

"Not exactly," he says, extending a beefy hand. "I'm Agent Tanner Graves of Imperial Security Commission of Operations and I was wondering if you could spare a moment of your time."

*

In a posh sparsely furnished hotel room, Marius Guile reviews the belongings his protégé had confiscated from Agent Venko's apartment. There are pieces of the pattern in the young agent's analysis but not enough of it to uncover the true purposes of the assets. The vid of Alexia Winton is the real find. It also poses the biggest problem. Venko was never supposed to witness such a display of power. What's even more amusing is that he failed to see a similar spectacle out of the other Winton sister the night of the Esplanade attack. The devil is in the details and exactly the reason Agent Venko is still left wondering. Still, he hedges closer to an area he was explicitly told to stay away from.

The Director is displeased but still has them in a holding pattern. The objective is to continue observation as the web of deceptions is woven tighter around the capital kids and those who dare to associate with them. The time of the Beast is nigh.

Tenley sits with her hands folded in her lap, staring at a large freshly polished blade.

"Not yet," Marius warns.

She smiles innocently as she stretches out across the couch, "Pretty please?"

"Soon."


-TBC

[Syren]

Bakura

Surface: Salis Da'ar

Alexander Winton is greatly disappointed in Venko's sympathy for the assets. He is, however, amused by an attraction to Patten that borders on the indecent. He orders Agent Guile to continue observation in hopes to disprove the theory that those caught in their web are helpless to resist. Surely Venko could not be converted. There is business he must attend to elsewhere but the shrill cries of his wife from Naboo force him into acquiescence. She has suffered in solitude long enough. He takes the lifts down into the labs where Henrick Masterton wrestles with his own internal struggle over whether or not to mass produce his Force vaccine. There is a morality issue somewhere that Alexander simply cannot understand. He would leave his friend to debate this without certain influences. Choices must be made and he is anxious to see which side his friend will eventually fall on. Celeste is exiting the labs through an ante room and when she catches sight of Alexander, her face morphs into a mask of sheer disgust.

"What do you want?"

"It's so nice to see you too, Cel. I need you to go to Naboo."

"Is it Monica? What's wrong?"

"She's lonely and you have served your purpose here. You will go and calm her while I return to the Core."

She cannot hide her rising alarm.

"What are you going to do in the Core?"

He shrugs, voice even.

"Nothing that concerns you."

"You won't let us see our children!!" Celeste bites out. "That concerns me!"

"Oh, you'd only get in the way. Things are going well. The kids just finished testing and I'm sure Melanie did great. Her grades are back on track after that mild slip a few weeks back. Surely you've had a chance to glance over her latest progress report."

"Reports cannot replace them, Alex. Is this so difficult to understand, even for someone such as yourself?"

"I understand more than you think."

"There isn't a bone in my body that doesn't hate the fact that we ever trusted you."

"What are you going to do about it?"

Celeste's face falls, hands curling into fists.

Alexander smirks.

"That's right, nothing. Now go to Naboo. I'm sure you both have a lot of catching up to do."

Celeste storms from the ante room.

Henrick watches this exchange through the large rectangular lab windows. Alexander turns and spots him, waving as he walks away. Henrick smiles but an unsettling feeling has become more pervasive since the completion of the vaccine. Celeste is convinced Alexander has always been manipulating them and is deliberately keeping them away from their children. Henrick had never wanted to believe this. Deep down, he knew his friend and could not comprehend a reason Alexander would want to hurt any of them. Their children had active and interesting lives. Yet Alexander has dissuaded any and all attempts at returning to Coruscant with one excuse after another. Until now, Henrick's work had consumed his time and thought. He knows Melanie and Karen are highly capable young women under the best protection and care available but Alexander's continued reluctance to allow visitation has his mind creeping into frightening territory.

Does his wife's worry have merit? He would find out once and for all.

Once the building is cleared, Henrick leaves the labs and ascends to the executive offices of the main RepulsorCorp tower. His master card provides unlimited access which he took as a sign of trust. He would violate that trust under the pretense of clearing Alexander's name. Henrick would put to rest these outlandish accusations of their better halves. Entering Alexander's office, Henrick absently rifles through the large executive desk, finding nothing out of the ordinary. He tells himself this is ridiculous. Someone supposedly hiding something so sinister would not simply leave clues lying around an office.

That's what a blinking light catches his eye. Message waiting on the desk consol.

Henrick pauses, carefully considering this violation. He had known Alexander a long time but the similarity and frequency of Celeste and Monica's warnings have grown unbearably valid. He taps on the device. The consol lights up to display a small projection of a familiar boy's face, square jaw and narrowed eyes. He speaks low with attempted menace.

"You told me not to call here and I wouldn't if you answered your damn com once in a while. It's important. Some hotshot agent showed up at school today talking about Imperial service after graduation. One of yours? I thought we had a deal! I keep 'em together and get to go where ever the hell I want on your credit. If something has changed, I want to know why I wasn't told-"

The message ends abruptly, plunging the room back into silence.

The boy is Reef Stratford, a student at North Coruscant and friend to both his daughter and Alexander's. They had met briefly freshman year. Someone had mentioned athletics, a transfer for scholarship that had been a huge coup for the prestigious school. It didn't surprise Henrick. He'd known the type in his own youth but why was this boy leaving messages for Alexander? And what kind of deal did they make?

Think back. You know more than you think you do.

Henrick remembers walking in on the tail end of a conversation over a year ago. Alexander was sternly speaking to a projection of a boy far too young to be a colleague. Henrick had dismissed it then but now this detail seems increasingly relevant. Alexander and Reef have been communicating. But for how long? And about what? Perhaps he was keeping tabs on Karen through a friend but why not disclose this information to them? They had always had an open door policy with each other. Sadly, the good doctor wonders if that had just been one-sided.

In the message, Reef implies a ringleader role. Keeping them together. The purpose of this or to whom it extends is beyond him. He tries to remember how long it's been since Celeste returned from Naboo the last time. Weeks? Months? It was just before testing of the vaccine began. In fact, Celeste had reluctantly encouraged the project upon her return to Bakura. Now he questions if her support was orchestrated. When's the last time they even heard from Monica? The Queen had been in self-induced isolation. Who told him that? Alexander did. Now Celeste is on her way back to Naboo after a heated conversation earlier that afternoon.

How well can you know anyone if a relationship is founded upon lies?

The ramblings of a Queen.

Warnings from his wife.

Signs that have been present all along.

He had to speak to Monica. The Queen may have remembered more from her visions. They had meant nothing to him before, bits and pieces of delusion that made her seem paranoid and unstable. Celeste had always indulged her but never took much stock in their meaning. Now he fears these fragments of memory may hold the key to another version of this story.
 
The Prophecy.

Everything he has ever believed is suddenly called into question. He must act now. Henrick returns to the lab, packing up what data he can. On the way back through, he lingers as if forgetting something. Ah yes, a contingency plan. He steals several vials of his own vaccine and rushes to his shuttle. As he pulls away from the skylines of Salis Da'ar, Henrick realizes Alexander has fallen to the dark side. Seduced by the Imperial machine. All the things they prided themselves on teaching their children, the promises they swore to each other when they moved to the capital - was it all performance? For show? What does it really say about their children's futures? Does the darkness blot out the light?

*

Alexander watches the shuttle ascend with a tightened jaw. Stratford's message was the bait and the good doctor took it. The surprise gives way to anger. He thought their bond stronger than that. Henrick could always see the big picture. Not big enough, it seems. The betrayal stings.

This would make it easier. 




- TBC

[Syren]

Coruscant

Surface: Galactic City

Long after the party at 500 Republica dies down, the ridiculous drama predictably played out in front of all the right people, Melanie Masterton pulls the white hood over her head and disappears into the night. She stays in the shadows along the Esplanade, careful to avoid the cams mounted on the bright street lights. She rounds a corner, gliding silently down an ally before descending into the twilight place.

Agent Nikoli Venko watches with narrowed eyes and follows.



-TBC