CC: The Crimson Covenant

[Syren]

Outer Rim

Lur

Surface

The shaken crew unloads in the docking bay which opens into a much larger hangar. Taarek had been tight-lipped about their destination, sharing only that it was a safe place. Lur lay just beyond the CSA but, they were assured, held solid alliances with the ways of the Republic. Not the Republic as it stands now, but as it once was. The Lurrians were peace-loving and very intelligent, adept in bioengineering and genetics. The base below the frozen world offered a sanctuary of sorts to those fleeing the unrest in Chandaar and had aided Taarek in helping Force-sensitives escape.

Medical attention is dispatched to the injured while others are shown to quarters in which they should wash up and rest. The journey had not been a peaceful one as Taarek had questioned Gemma as to how she knew the Inquisitor was privy to their hideout on D’ian. When she told him, a solemn look crossed his face. Her first concern was that the Inquisitor would go after Dane but, after some discussion, it was decided that his profile is much too high to risk something so brazen. Gemma’s reputation was in shreds and, with whereabouts unknown to the public, it would be easier to target her than her brother. The revelation of their discovered activities within the CSA is a setback, for sure, but this would not stop Taarek from doing what he felt was right.

Demaris helps get the others settled, guiding a surprisingly mute Alia down the corridor. She hands Gemma the bag containing the crystals and nods to Taarek. Gemma holds it gingerly, slipping into the pocket of her jumpsuit. It was a small victory but a victory none the less. They would need to construct weapons in order to fight what is to come. The Inquisitor may be trapped but it was unclear if it remained alive within the cave. She knows Circe may have answers but it may not be safe to contact her, especially if it puts Riley in danger. She would have to play this carefully now.

Taarek pulls Gemma aside.

“I don’t need the Force to tell me this is more complicated than it seems.”

She swallows hard, “You have no idea.”

“Care to let me in on the story?”

“You know the story.”

“I know what’s been publicized. That isn’t the story, that’s the spin. It goes deeper than that. Much deeper, I suspect. We’ve built some trust, Gemma. I can’t help you if I don’t know the truth.”

Gemma tucks a blonde curl behind her ear and nods.

“Let’s find somewhere quiet to talk.”

“Why do I feel like we’ve only scratched the surface?”

“Because most of it lies beneath.”




-TBC

[Syren]

Lur

Sub-surface: waystation

Their Lurian hosts have been gracious, giving them space to process what they had gone through. While the injured recovered, Gemma and Taarek are shown to a private area to speak. The small conference room is freezing and a silence has fallen. Her thoughts drift to Riley, their night together, how her heart races for him but she knows there are more important matters at hand. Gemma tells Taarek everything she knows or thought she knew. Her upbringing, the dissonance between her and her siblings, the Jedi and her concerns, her pop star cover plan, suspicions about Dahlia, the original Four, what she knew of the prophecy, the secrecy around her father’s business, seeing Melanie, the death of her parents, her first encounter with the Inquisitor, her ties to Riley, the fight on Corellia, the survival of Circe and Donovan, and now the disappearance of Garron Prescott.

It is not a light load.

The impact is about as she expected.

Gemma does not shy away from accountability and accepts responsibility for the mistakes she made. She knows she didn’t cause this but their actions, hers and others, put this in motion. A part of her feels this has been in motion for years, awakening after a period of hibernation. Now they are being hunted and there is a very real danger for everyone involved, Taarek included.

“Now you know,” she says. “If you want out, this is your chance.”

He smirks, “You think it would be that easy? Like I would even go. I’ve been smuggling Force Sensitives out of Chandaar for a while, long before I knew how deeply this was rooted in your past and your families. I’m on your team. Thank you for trusting me.”

She nods, feeling somewhat relieved. She needed to unburden herself from the information, get it all out there for someone else to help her make sense of. Demaris is keen but she does not want to believe that the Jedi may not have their best interests in mind.

“What of your Master?”

“Gone dark,” Gemma sighs. “We haven’t heard from them in months.”

“And those on Corellia?”

“Secure from what I know.”

“But for how long? It is dangerous harboring them there beneath the nose of the Republic. If they are discovered, it will not end well.”

Gemma levels her gaze, “I know. We have allies there. Senator Soldys, Della Avers, Director Veritaas – high ranking officials within their government. They will keep them safe.”

“You said the vid they played at your concert showed others on Corellia. That alone should have compromised them. It didn’t. That worries me.”

“You think they are lying in wait?”

“This Imperial truce has muddier the waters far darker than I’ve seen. I thought we were past this, that we would never return to this point of indistinguishability. We lost people in that fight – you a sister, me a father – only to wind up back in the same precarious place. Light and dark, right and wrong – everything is grey once again.”

“Demaris and I have to go back. To D’ian.”

“But you said-“

“I know what I said. It’s been compromised. The Inquisitor knows we were there. But the longer we stay away, the more suspicion will grow. We already missed the beginning of term. People will be asking questions.”

Taarek crosses his arms, “Appearances don’t matter anymore.”

“They do,” she says. “So long as we’re visible under the guise of normalcy, it allows us time to figure this out. You said it yourself; Dane is too high profile a target. That would extend to me, Dahlia, and Riley. The worlds are watching whether we like it or not.”

“The fascination with The Four.”

“Exactly.”

“What about Demaris? That does not extend to her.”

“I will protect her.”

“No offense, Gemma, but the Inquisitor nearly killed you twice. Our entire team was nearly killed. Do you really want to take that chance?”

Gemma nods, “It’s me the Inquisitor wants.”

“The Inquisitor wants the Jedi wiped from existence. They are in as much danger as you are.”

She slides the bag with the crystals across the table.

“Then we need weapons.”




-TBC

[Syren]

Lur

Sub-surface: waystation

The peace and quiet have done them good.

They heal, train, meditate and reflect. It had been a difficult loss, one that almost cost them more dearly than it did. That fact has settled over them. However, something about the altercation with the Inquisitor has also bonded them. There is a deepening feeling of comradery between them. Even Shendo is warming to a light frost around Gemma and Demaris.

It’s progress.

Lysette has kept a careful watch over Oz as his arm healed, running her small hands over the skin until the ache subsides. Sirona is back at weapons practice. She, Shendo, and Demaris spar with Taarek, keeping up their strength. Alia hasn’t spoken since the attack and keeps mostly to herself. Thank the maker for small miracles. They could all do without her snark for a while. Not that anyone can blame her. For all her bravado, being confronted by something as heinous and terrifying as the Inquisitor struck a chord of fear she never knew she had.

Gemma has spent much time in meditation and knows she must rally the team together. There is a long road ahead but she feels conflicted. There are significant abandonment issues, tying back to her growing resentment of Master Nevylinn and the Jedi’s silence which is very obviously fueled by the untimely death of her parents. She’s gets it. She acknowledges it but this sensibility only marginally diminishes the anguish and confusion. She draws deep, reaching out through the Force for a measure of calm. The sensation is like a gentle breeze that tapers into a sputter. Maybe she’s losing it. Or maybe all those complex emotions are fracturing into a million shards of uncertainty.

Whatever the case may be, Gemma needs to deal.

She sits on the floor in the center of her dimly lit, makeshift quarters. Her breath is steady and then she hears it, a voice she recognizes.

“The doubt is what gets you. Every time.”

Gemma raises her head as the shimmering pale blue of Melanie Masterton’s Force ghost appears before her. She is more transparent now, almost like a whisper of an image crafted in smoke that radiates with a fine glitter.

“Sister. You are stronger and more capable than you think you are, even though it may not seem so right now.”

 “We’re in trouble.”

“I see that,” she says, almost amused as if remembering. “We had a knack for trouble too.”

“That did not turn out well.”

“No changing it now. All I want is for you to make better choices than we did.”

Gemma pushes back her blonde curls, “We’re being hunted. The Jedi has been framed for crimes they didn’t commit and the Republic is buying every word of it. Our masters are missing in action, my reputation is trashed and we barely escaped an encounter with an Inquisitor. So, frankly, I don’t think we’re doing that well.”

“That depends on your perspective,” Melanie says. “These setbacks give you an opportunity to look at everything from a different angle. You are going to have to lead this charge.”

“I know but I’m not sure how.”

“There it is again, the doubt. I know that feeling. I felt it too when I questioned the Jedi’s motives for us. They did not intervene when I thought they should but in reality, it was up to us to make our own fates. By then it was too late. It is not too late for you.”

“You know things that can help us.”

“I do.”

“Tell me how our parents died.”

She regrets it the microsecond she asks it but the thought had been bubbling beneath that beautiful surface for a while. There are so many questions surrounding their deaths that no one had dared to ask. She feels they had been pressed with duty at a pace where they never really had time and she suspects there is a reason for that: they will not like the answers they find. Still, she asks.

“It doesn’t work that way,” Melanie says evenly. “None of us have all the answers you seek, only the wisdom to guide you…or lead you astray.”

How strange to think they could be manipulated by their counterparts beyond the grave.

“You mean you and the others.”

“Of course, you are all tied to us just as you will be tied to the next four.”

“The next?”

Melanie moves away, “You are on the right path but need to execute in order to move forward.”

Gemma fingers the bag of crystals, raising her wide blue eyes.

“Our lightsabers? We don’t have the materials.”

“The Lurians will provide it, if you ask them. They are sympathetic to your plight and know you must be able to defend yourselves.”

“Even if they did, I don’t know how to construct a saber myself. Our masters are supposed to show us how as part of our training.”

Melanie’s smile is benevolent and strangely calming.

“Darling sister, why do you think I am here, now, at this very moment? I will show you.”





-TBC

[Syren]

Lur

Sub-Surface: Waystation

Gemma’s hands slide over the glossy hilt, thumb activating the device. It hums to life: a blue as infinite as her eyes. Her face is backlit by the glow, features caught in near surprise that she has accomplished such a feat.

“There,” Melanie whispers as her ghost begins to fade. “Now, show the others. Do not be afraid to lead.”

Gemma produces the weapon for the gathered team. They listen raptly as she tells them how it came to be and the Lurians provide all the materials they need. Gemma spends time with each, guiding them as Melanie guided her. They spend days constructing and testing. The vast array of colors is impressive and indicative of their personalities. The team trains with their new weapons, hours upon hours spent improving their fighting styles.

It comes easier to some than others.

Shendo is the most proficient, followed by Alia, Demaris, Sirona, and Oz. Only little Lyssette, trying her best, is more suited for other talents. Taarek assists where he can, impressed that Gemma had been able to find a way where they thought there were none. He should not have doubted her. She is a Masterton, after all. They are more resourceful than cunning with a reputation for compassion and understanding.

Taarek Cirque knows how much this weighs on Gemma. He’s seen, first hand, the horrors that the Force User Registration Act had caused in the Republic. Their numbers dwindle and the path ahead is filled with uncertain challenges. In watching them together, moving as one with their colored blades cutting and spinning through the still air, he finds a hope he thought was lost.

Maybe they have a shot at this after all.

He finds his gaze drifting toward Demaris. She is scrappy and acrobatic in her movements, parrying then attacking with a saber as deep a purple as her hair. They had grown close in their short time together and although he has always had a sense of duty, instilled in him by his father, there are feelings blossoming beneath the surface he cannot deny.

Seneca Cirque had pledged his life to the Republic and to the cause of Jedi Masterton against the Empire and prophecy that held them all within its deadly grip. He had taught his young son, Taarek, to do what is right and to live with honor. Losing him in the Battle of Centerpoint devasted him but he took from that loss the mantle of protecting what is good and right.

The Republic’s truce with the Empire has marred that vision but he found a way forward which led him to the side of another Jedi Masterton. He was never one who fancied himself someone of fate but their paths crossing – like his father and Gemma’s sister – seemed destined.

*

Later that evening, Gemma returns to her quarters after an intense bout of training and a shower. She rummages through her belongings, trying to bring some semblance of order to the chaos they find themselves in. Her com-link slips out of her purse which she absently grabs. It had been off for some time now out of fear they would find them. Gemma shakes her head, knowing that these devices were provided by their father. Rutherford Gellar was not a man to take chances and their coms have always been secure. She powers it on and is bombarded with a deluge of messages, mostly from Dane.

Her brother. He must be going nuts right about now. Or not, depending on his mood. Dane has the Gellar temperament to a tee and it shifts as quickly as the passing of the sun. Gemma should really reach out to let him know they are okay. Goodness knows the Holo like to make a fuss over everything that has to do with them. She owes him that much. 

“Gemma?!”

“Hi, Dane.”

“Holy shit,” he snaps. “You blast off with your band of misfits, leave us hanging and all you can say is “hi”?”

“I’m sorry, it’s been-“

“There isn’t time. Listen to me; you need to get back here now.”

“Dane, that may not be-“

“I don’t care if you have to hitchhike across the galaxy, you need to appear on D’ian pronto! Whoever is hunting your asses blew up the lake house. We thought you were fucking dead, Gem. Roman’s family knows Alia is mixed up in all this and has threatened to kill Preston if she’s not returned. You know the Nash’s don’t mince words and always follow through on a threat. To top it off, no one’s found Garron which leaves our guardianship up for grabs…which Vex Sienna is now petitioning for. Are you, like, understanding the magnitude of the situation?”

Gemma’s mouth has fallen open, feeling foolish she never considered the repercussions on those left behind. She never wanted to put Dane in a difficult spot and hoped his plausible deniability would protect him. Now it seems that is not exactly the case. 

“Why would Sienna want guardianship of us? I mean, can he ever do that? He’s not a relative or even a close family friend. He has no grounds.”

Dane is beside himself, “Like the Direx Board cares! The Empire has acquired a substantial stake in ChemiX. Irulan kept him from hedging close to the majority shareholder. If he wins this petition, he’ll have my half the company and everything the Empire owns in his pocket. He could do some real damage! And that’s not to mention what he could do to you.”

“Like what?”

“You are wanted for questioning by the Republic and the Empire, through the truce, may just hand you over as a sign of good faith. You told me yourself that they were exterminating the Jedi. Is that what you want? To be exterminated? I don’t think I can bury another family member. Not this close to Prom.”

“Dane…"

“No, Gemma, seriously. Get your ass back here and bring that bitch Alia with you.”

She sighs, “Can you at least stall while I arrange this expedition?”

“Alka, Preston, and Roman are already hounding their parents about the guardianship. Finn Dyre is a sure bet in our favor but D’Ken Dawning and Baltazar Nash aren’t exactly fans. They would love to see us fail. We need to rally the troops and find a way out of this.”

“Let me guess, you have a plan?”

“You aren’t going to like it but yes. Get here. Now.”

He cuts the com and Gemma is left in silence. This could not come at a worse time but Dane is right, this is critically important to their futures. She wonders, darkly, if Garron was taken by the Inquisitor for this very purpose. His absence leaves them exposed, vulnerable in a way she is just now coming to understand. The team isn’t going to love the idea but she hears Melanie’s words echo in her mind.

Don’t be afraid to lead…

…and leading means having to make the tough calls.

 

 

-TBC

[Syren]

Lur

Sub-surface: Waystation

The team is understandably not keen on the change of plans.

Even though Gemma outlines the “how” and “why,” Taarek is still not sold that separating is the best thing for them right now. The Inquisitor has clearly been to D’ian and destroyed their old training ground. It’s not safe. She knows. No one is disputing that. Dane isn’t safe either and this is something she must do…for the both of them. Just when they are beginning to understand that, Alia interjects with her refusal to accompany Gemma back to the CSA.

“If you don’t, Roman’s parents will kill Preston.”

“Then I guess it’s time to say goodbye to the vicious little waif.”

“Alia,” Gemma says crossly. “I find it difficult to believe that’s what you’d actually want.”

Demaris steps in, offering a more reasoned approach.

“You know that would hurt Roman and regardless of your complex relationship and arranged whatever, he’s still one of your only friends. Someone who truly understands you. Given all we’ve been through and how easily it all could have been taken away, I think you may want to put aside those indifferences and really consider what’s important to you.”

“You all want me gone, that’s what this is about.”

Shendo huffs loudly, Taarek shrugs, Oz and Sirona glance away, and little Lysette pulls her hood down over her face.

Demaris sighs, “No one is saying that-“

“I am,” Gemma says. “I’m saying that. Your resistance to direction is a liability and until you can get that under control you risk the safety of the team. If you want to be a part of this, you can show it by doing the right thing. You will be able to find your way back to us if and when you handle your business.”

Alia rears back, looking ready to strike.

“Looks like someone grew a backbone but I don’t buy it. Humans don’t change like that, you just grasp at your convictions like reeds in the river your mother drown in. They just snap or slip through your fingers and you drift away.”

Gemma’s hand finds the hilt of her saber but she pauses, holding it there.

“Ah, ah, give in to that anger and the Jedi will be so disappointed…if they cared which, by the looks of things, they’ve all but given up on you.”

The stinging statements hang there as the horrified team looks on.

Gemma’s blue eyes are fixed on Alia’s sinister smile.

The tension is thick but the response holds an anguished yet measured tone.

“You are entitled to your opinion but do you know what I think? I think what happened to us on Jedha scared you in a way you never expected. It scared us all. And now you are angry and lashing out because the Inquisitor is something you can’t control. You are used to being in control, using your wit and wiles to manipulate everyone into doing exactly what you want them to. Admittedly, that’s a useful skill – just ask Dahlia. It serves her well. But you know what it doesn’t do? It doesn’t buy you any respect and certainly doesn’t make you any friends.  So, do us all a favor, Alia, and drop the act. If there’s anything no one is buying around here it’s your bullshit bravado. Now go pack your things because we’re leaving.”

Alia scoffs then storms off laughing.

Demaris crosses her arms, “I’m not one to condone infighting but she kind of deserved that.”

“Are you coming with us?”

She shakes her head, “I called after we first got here and tested out. Valor Prep will send my diploma to the Atrii estate, not that there’s anyone ever there to get it. I was going to tell you but you seemed so shaken…”

“It’s okay. The more of you that stay together the better but you do realize you are leaving me to face the tribulations of the final month of our senior year alone, right?”

“You’ll do great,” Demaris says. “Besides, you can always call on you-know-who to break up the tedium of all those guardianship woes.”

Gemma grins and they embrace.

“Be safe.”

She says her goodbyes to the team but Taarek walks her back to the shuttle. Alia is already on board, probably fuming and plotting her death. He turns to her and she knows what he’s going to say but she lets him.

“This isn’t a great idea.”

“Probably not but you know it’s what has to be done. I’m not going to risk Dane’s and my future or Preston’s life to stay hidden.”

“It feels like a trap,” Taarek says. “Tell me you see that too.”

“If the Empire is trying to draw me out then it’s a smart way to do it. I’m not oblivious to the timing but I also can’t let it happen either. I’ll set up a contingency if anything were to happen to me so you can get them out.”

“Let’s aim for not having to do that, okay?”

She smiles, “Take care of them.”

“I will.”

Gemma ascends the ramp and hits the controls on the way to the cockpit. One of the passenger cabin doors is closed. She just sighs and shakes her head. Alia can be as hostile as she wants. Deep down she knows they are all fighting the same battles. Gemma falls into the pilots seat, running through the pre-launch systems checks, thinking about all the things she’ll have to do when she gets back. The school is probably furious with her and there is no telling what kind of reception the government offices will have to Vex Sienna’s petition. Dane’s plan better be a good one but, knowing him, it’s going to be a real pain in the ass. There is something to what Demaris said. Ol’ you-know-who. She keys up the media console and taps out a message to Riley, giggling in spite of it all. Just one word.

Prom?






-TBC

[Syren]

Hyperspace

Gemma lounges in the cockpit, catching up on the assignments she missed. With any luck, she’ll be able to submit them and test out the same way Demaris did. The swirl of blue and white through the viewport calms her as she collects her thoughts until that peace is disrupted by her reluctant passenger. The door behind her hisses open and Alia appears, wearing next to nothing. Even though it’s damn near freezing it’s not nearly as cold as Csilla. 

The tension between them is palpable.

“How far out are we?”

“Oh, are we being civil again or did you have more barbs to trade?”

Alia sighs dramatically, “About that…I didn’t mean it.”

“Yes, you did.”

“You’re right,” Alia says. “I did. And you deserved it. I’m not used to be being bossed around by a human.”

“It would help if you felt the least bit bad about it.”

“I don’t. I don’t feel much of anything, actually. I knew it would hurt you because you are weak. Humans, by definition, are inferior emotionally and mentally to the Chiss. You let your feelings get the best of you and it often, if not always, leads to trouble.”

Gemma swivels around in the chair.

“I’m not going to argue that but the one thing we have control over our responses to those feelings. It doesn’t have to be this way, Alia. If you truly want to harness your connection to the Force you are going to have to try harder than that. Allowing yourself to feel your emotions, understanding them, and controlling your reactions are what makes you whole. It makes you better.”

Alia leans provocatively against the wall.

“Does it? I’m not so sure. Look at what it did to Roman. He was raised among you and now look at him – fearful of his parents because of his feelings for that…boy. I mean, I get it. He’s in love. Love is not a foreign concept to us. It’s just not something that overrules our ability to make both rational and tactical decisions when the time comes.”

“You make it sound like a side effect. Love is greater than that. It can give us purpose and re-frame how we approach our decisions because of how we feel about certain people.”

“Isn’t that a big Jedi no-no? To love? I thought it clouds your ability to see clearly.”

“Only if you let it.”

“Playing it kind of fast and loose with the rules, aren't we? You say that like you have any control over such things. When it comes to those you love you will compromise, blinded by truths that are right in front of you.”

“Don’t you care for Roman?”

“In the most practical sense. Our parents promised us to one another, an arrangement that benefits them more than us. Our houses need this alliance.”

“Let me guess,” Gemma quips. “You could not care less?”

“Bingo.”

“We aren’t that different, Alia. Your people hate you just as mine hates me. Why? Because of our ability to see and feel something deeper than they will ever know. And that scares them. They think we will use it to harm them, to try and gain control over them. So, we must show them there is a different way. We can coexist with each other peacefully, as we have for centuries. Embracing our differences is what makes us stronger.”

“I disagree; In my culture, the strongest and most cunning survive. Fear keeps others in line. I was raised a weapon on many fronts but they did not know what to do when my power was discovered. In some ways, I think it pleased them that my ability gave me an advantage the others did not have but they only know what they glean from the outside and it’s not much. They see the Force as something that deceives or destroys and that simply cannot be. Not when there’s this much as stake.”

“So, you ran? That doesn’t sound as fearsome as you’d like everyone to think you are.”

“I needed space to think.”

“And what conclusions have you drawn?”

“That you don’t even believe in what the Jedi stand for. Not anymore, not after everything that happened. You may think I was out of line but that doesn’t make what I said any less true. Your “masters” abandoned you to remain in hiding, leaving everyone else to find their own way. The sooner you deal with that the better off we’ll all be.”

Gemma slips one leg over the other, “What do you mean?”

“Stop waiting for them to show up and tell you what to do. We all saw you back there; you are perfectly capable of deciding. They look to you for guidance. You got us this far. We’re all still alive, armed, and trained…because of your leadership. This is an admirable quality where I come from. Screw Nevylinn and the others. Who needs them anyway?”

Gemma burst out laughing and Alia, confused by the reaction, smiles awkwardly. She needed this. A sweet release. Everything she pondered that was all bound up in her head laid bare by Alia’s directness. They had gotten this far without Nevylinn, Donovan, or any of the Jedi. They are better for it, thanks to an assist by the spirit of Melanie. She needs to trust herself more. Doubt is hampering her ability to lead and that needs to stop. First, she must mend fences.

“A truce then?”

“I’m listening.”

“If I agree to lean into this new role instead of questioning my every move, will you at least attempt to use measure in your actions?”

Alia considers this then shrugs, “I suppose it wouldn’t kill me to try.”

Gemma smiles and Alia falls into the chair beside her, neither of them really knowing what lies ahead of them in the Corporate Sector. 

They were going to find out: together.




-TBC

[Syren]

“You never act aloud the way you appear
My every breath awakes alarms in your ears
I'm not confused, it's just you're making me think
Of all our conversations missing their link.”

-Prelow

Hesperidium

Riley’s shuttle flares out hyperspace above the glittering resort world.

As breathtaking as The Hessy is, it is difficult not to notice the rust-colored spectacle in the distance. Gemma feels an ominous wave of dread wash over her yet she cannot tear her gaze from it. There is no rational explanation for what is essentially new Coruscant. Planets do not simply reform after they are destroyed and the multiple physical laws it’s mere existence breaks raises more questions than the seeming miracle answers. Neither she nor Riley has been this deep in the Core before. They are in unfamiliar territory now and the danger is not lost on them.

Using the codes provided by Gemma, they are granted clearance. He guides the shuttle down and across a brilliant seascape. The shimmering ocean draws them in as Riley finds the monolith of the Bolerathon Tower and sets the shuttle down on the Masterton landing pad. The air is clean and salty, bringing a smile to Gemma’s face as she steps off the ramp and crosses the latticed walkway to the exterior door. They enter a massive, circular turret made entirely of transparasteel that narrows into a corridor beyond which lies two doors.

One contains a cursive W and the other, a cursive M.

“Guess this is us.”

She taps in the code and the door hisses open. It would be a lie to say she wasn’t nervous. This place contains parts of her history still unknown to her. Riley follows her inside and allows the door to slip closed behind them. The penthouse is spotless, decorated in an extremely modern style with functional minimalist touches. Gemma runs a hand along the white stone counter, bombarded with emotions that are not entirely her own. Celeste Masterton had rarely spoken of the residence, almost as it had been too painful to remember. It was a symbol of her past, one she could not bear to let go of despite all the anguish it brought her. In a way, Gemma is glad. This makes her feel more connected to her mother and sister but in ways she could not really articulate. Riley allows her space as she takes it all in. He knows this must be strange for her.

The door chimes crisp synth tones rip through the silence, startling them both.

She sighs, moving back through the foyer to find Dane and Alka standing out in the corridor with all their luggage.

“We are so not staying with those Imperial bitches. Mind if we crash with you?”

She nods, stepping side.

“Of course.”

“Wow,” Alka says, moving through and into the living room. “This place is amazing.”

“We’ve only just arrived so what do you say we explore together?"

Dane and Riley scramble off to stake out the bedrooms but Gemma takes Alka’s arm.

“How are you doing?”

“Not great,” she admits. “But I’ll get there. Preston and Roman did not deserve to die and I can’t reconcile that right now. I guess I’ve always known the lengths our families will go to protect the power they have…but it never became real until now.”

“You take all the time you need. I’m here for you.”

Alka smiles wanly, “I know, thank you.”

She doesn’t have the heart to tell her that losing their friends was most likely the catalyst Demaris spoke of, a precursor to Maker only knows what. All they can do is be vigilant and forge onward to whatever may lie ahead.

Dane returns with news of their fantastic sleeping quarters, deferring the master bedroom to Gemma and Riley. Not like the guest arrangements are anything to complain about. There are four bedrooms in each the Masterton and Winton penthouses, eight sleeping quarters in total. Riley hauls their bags inside and everyone gets to unpacking. Gemma opens the place up, allowing the fresh air to sweep any residual stuffiness. The wraparound patio is identical to the one on the other side along the Winton penthouse, offering incredible views out over an ocean so incredible that it seems to stretch into eternity. She grips the railing as the breeze pulls blonde curls across her face, steadying her breath to fortify her for what is sure to be a treacherous path ahead.

She turns and steps back inside, finding Alka and Riley standing on either side of Dane holding a picture with both hands. She is drawn toward them, peering over his shoulder. It is something Dane found in one of the bedrooms and shows a group of smiling teens in front of what appears to be an academic hall. They are staggered on steps, placed almost too perfectly. Everyone seems so happy but a closer look reveals the connections from past to present. Valerie Gellar is leaning against a handsome dark-haired boy with a hand outstretched and intertwined with one of Kimber Patten’s. The others, they realize, must be those they lost in The Event at 500 Republica. Five will die, The Four survive – or so the story goes. In the center of them all, Karen Winton and Melanie Masterton have their arms around each other.

Gemma’s jaw tightens, flashing back to what Dahlia told her.

Melanie killed Karen.

But why? There is surely some context they are not privy to. Dahlia’s captors wouldn’t provide it in order to ensure her feelings toward them remained spiteful. Those plans only carried them so far, it seems, as Dahlia wavers between hate and help. She wonders if Karen did too. How many of them lived on a blade's edge above the moral abyss? The picture unnerves them visibly and so Alka takes it gently from Dane’s hands and returns it to the bedroom.

Riley, Gemma, and Dane exchange glances loaded with emotionally charged questions no one can bring themselves to ask.

All that seems certain is that this place is so much more than it appears to be.






-TBC

[Syren]

Hesperidium

Surface: Diamant Island: Bolerathon Tower

A few days in, Dahlia proposes a dinner party in the Winton Penthouse.

The group had stayed relatively separate during their staggered arrival and settling in. Now that everyone is here, she thinks its time to mix it up. What could go wrong? Only everything but, she supposes, that’s the point. The wide disparity in personalities would, at the very least, make for interesting conversation.

Trichelle and Ples each claim a room while Quentin and Quinn take Alexia’s old room and Barrett and Dahlia take Karen’s. Inviting friends from high school is certainly risky, given that they had essentially managed to escape any of the horrors that befell others in a similar position. They have no idea what’s going on and she’s counting on their naivete in outside politics to bring some much-needed levity to what’s sure to be a drama-filled summer. Dahlia suspects everyone here has a secret and nothing brings it all to the surface better than dinner and drinks. It’s such a domestic and innocuous concept that she marvels at the potential. Dane, Alka, and Gemma are grieving and she’s not discounting that – Preston and Roman’s deaths hit her too. It was both highly dramatic and needlessly violent but that’s showbiz, baby.

Especially when it comes to The Four.

Quentin, for his part, keeps a wide berth as he is clearly still smarting over the fact that he now reports to her. Unfortunately, he doesn’t have any information to share on Janessa Kain although he claims to have exhausted his connections. To the best of his knowledge, the Empire did not take her which now begs the question: who did? Despite their distance, she and Quentin have an easy rapport, one Barrett finds irritating. They have may be friends from the Tarkin Academy but Quentin’s reputation always got under Barrett’s skin. Quinn floats around in a gorgeous daze, content with the atmosphere and company. She needed a change of scenery anyway. Things were really starting to harsh her mellow back on Chandaar.

The door chimes announce the arrival of the Masterton Penthouse occupants. It’s showtime! Watching everyone meet is like worlds colliding. Alka seems edgy, fragile, and Dane is in a funk (no surprises there), but Gemma presents formally, almost exceedingly cordial. No doubt this boost of civility stems from the presence of Riley Patten, someone with whom she’s not as well acquainted. He seems nice enough, maybe a little quirky and earnest but, then again, he is the son of Kimber Patten. Despite some controversy, Kimber’s legacy was one of idealism and hope. It is something that Riley very clearly shares with subtle, dry humor that gives him an almost mysterious quality. He is handsome, no question about that, and so Dahlia can understand what Gemma sees in him.

Ples and Riley hit it off immediately as they talk about the stats of Chin-Bret players and the odds of certain leagues pulling in greater talent. Trichelle tries to make sense of Quinn, broaching the subject of her modeling career and life in The Menagerie. It seems so glamorous in comparison to the sorority shenanigans and suitor plotting that defines Trichelle’s existence but they strike an uneasy but casual tone.

Dahlia opens the wine, a merciful gesture that does not go unnoticed by Barrett. Better to be lubricated for this. Although he’s made leaps and bounds since she first met him, Barrett has never been entirely comfortable in intimate social situations – probably because he’s never had to be. He only ever deals with military brass and the occasional Senate sub-committee because that minefield is one he knows. But he walks right into this one anyway.

“It’s nice to see you again, Gemma.”

Her head tilts sharply in his direction.

“Really? Considering I’ve been essentially exiled by the Republic I thought for sure you’d have your henchmen ready to shoo me off the landing pad.”

“Isn't that a little presumptuous?"

Dahlia could almost believe him if she didn’t know Barrett was the one who leaked the video of Gemma’s escape from Ambaril with a member of The Concealed, all but ensuring any privileges she held would be revoked. She lets him play this dangerous game.

“I suppose so,” she says evenly. “Given the state of things, I’d be surprised if you had time for anything other than passing those abhorrent policies.”

“Surely you realize I don’t influence legislature that way. My role is one of tactical assistance and maintaining the peace between our factions.”

“I think you may need to revisit your definition of peace.”

Quentin laughs, “Oh, she’s feisty. I like that. How come you weren’t this feisty back at Valor Prep?”

Riley makes a face, “You went to VP?”

“Barely,” says an extremely moody Dane. “He was there for, like, five microseconds and spent all of them hitting on Dahlia.”

Barrett’s eyes narrow into slits but Dahlia laughs while purposely avoiding Quentin’s gaze.

“He hit on everyone, Dane. Don’t be such a grump.”

“Our friends are fucking dead, Dahlia.”

This chokes off the conversation and she resists the urge to strangle him through the Force but, ever the socialite, Trichelle interjection a little empathy.

“You must all be hurting. We’re so sorry for your losses.”

“Yeah, man,” Ples says. “That’s rough. Hopefully, they get that bastard.”

Quinn looks confused, “Get who?”

“Something about treason in the Corporate Sector,” Quentin says.

“Oh. Right.”

“And murder.”

“Dane,” Alka warns.

“What? I’m coping.”

Dahlia tries to keep it light, enjoying the complicated dynamic of their extremely differing perspectives.

“Appropriately, from what I gather of your lineage. Who’s hungry?”

They eat in relative silence as it had gotten later than expected. That’s the thing about dinner parties. Sometimes the evening just gets carried away. The cool, ocean breeze keeps everyone comfortable but it is not long before the alcohol loosens everyone up.

Quinn leans forward, those wide blue eyes fixed on Gemma, “I have to admit, I’m totally fangirling over here. Your album was amazing and I speak for a lot of people when I say that we’re devastated you’re not touring anymore. I mean, I know your last show ended in, like, disaster or whatever but you’ve got a lot of fans out there.”

Riley smiles. Dahlia rolls her eyes.

Gemma handles it gracefully, “That’s very sweet, thank you. I’m just…taking some time to focus on other things.”

“Right on…”

Alka excuses herself and steps across the hall to grab a shawl. From this height, the coastal evenings could be a bit chilly. She pulls the garment around her tightly, wishing herself back to the night when she and her friends were together and happy. Back out in the corridor, she moves toward the door marked with the cursive W when she hears a whisper.

“Alka”

There is movement, or at least she thinks there is; a glimpse of someone out in the turret. She follows but finds nothing. As she approaches the center, she hears a giggle and whirls around. A shock of blonde hair, the glint of light off heart-shaped sunglasses, and the faintest of glimmers of a face no one has laid eyes on in over a year: Muriel.

Alka returns to the corridor but there is no one there.





-TBC

[Syren]

“Oh, and you're dancing to the sound
Of your demons falling down
And our past is going up in flames (flames)
The future will be rearranged.”

-Years & Years

Hesperidium

Surface: Diamant Island: Bolerathon Tower

Trichelle and Ples step off the lifts after a long day down on Imperial Beach. The corridor is cool and feels nice against their sun-kissed skin. As they near the penthouse doors, they see someone out in the center of the turret by the far windows that provide unobstructed views of the ocean below. Growing closer, the figure comes into view. At first, they think it is Dane with the dark hair but they see those classic red streaks. It is the jacket that really gives it away.

“Dude,” Ples calls. “Tobias! Where ya been?”

Trichelle rolls her eyes but follows him into the turret but the moment they step inside, they find themselves alone. He turns to her.

“You saw him, right? I’m not, you know, crazy?”

“Debatable,” she says. “But yes, I saw him too.”

“Maybe we got more sun than we thought.”

She flips her hair back and sighs.

“Sunstroke is not sexy. Let’s douse it with a cocktail. You know, Dahlia has a bottle of Idlewil liquor in there.”

“Is that really the best idea?” he laughs. “I mean, it could be dangerous.”

A man in an Imperial uniform walks past them.

“More dangerous than you know.”

They both gasp, jumping back. There is no sign of him. This is officially full-fledged weirdness. Trichelle turns and runs for the Winton Penthouse door, bursting into the room with Ples trailing closely behind. They skitter across the foyer and down into the sunken living room. Dahlia and Barrett are in the kitchen but glance up as they enter.

“There’s something out there. I mean, we saw something!”

“Someone, actually.”

“Two someone’s!”

Dahlia glares at them, rounding the corner holding two martini glasses, "You both look super burnt. Are you sure your brains didn’t get toasted on the beach?”

“I’m serious, Dahlia. There were people out there.”

"I thought this was a restricted floor," Barrett says casually.

“It is,” she says. “So, the only way others could get up here is if they came up here with…you.”

Ples and Trichele exchange horrified glances, failing to adequately describe what happened. Dahlia hands the glasses to them.

“I’m sure a namantini will make you forget all about it.”

“Aren’t these addictive?”

Quentin breezes in from the patio, “Only if you’re a pussy.”

“Can it, Q.”

Quinn strides in behind him, throwing herself across one of the couches with sunglasses still on, unamused by the commotion.

He smirks, “Eat me, princess. What’s the deal with you guys?”

“If you could not insult my girlfriend that would be great,” Barrett says sharply. “Ples and Trichelle say they saw people out on the floor.”

“Hot people?”

“Well,” Ples begins. “Objectively….”

“Does it matter?”

“It might,” Quentin says, moving toward the door. “Let’s check it out.”

Out in the corridor, Quentin walks around with his arms outstretched.

“Come out, come out, where ever you are!”

Nothing happens. No one answers.

“That’s the thing,” Trichelle says. “They kind of…you know…disappeared.”

Everyone’s face falls and Quentin groans.
 
“Oh, boy. Whatever it is you guys are on, you’d better share.”

Alka and Dane exit from the Masterton Penthouse, joining them in the corridor.

“What are you guys doing?”

“Looking for ghosts apparently.”

“I know how it sounds,” Trichelle says. “But we saw them. Some guy in an Imperial uniform…”

“…and Tobias Harken,” Ples finishes.

Dahlia stiffens, “Tobias?”

“Well, I thought I saw Muriel the other night if that makes you feel any better.”

Quentin and Dahlia avoid each other’s stares.

“We haven’t seen or heard from them in over a year,” Dahlia says evenly. “Are you sure it was them?”

Alka nods, “Pretty damn sure.”

“Wouldn’t you have been notified if they requested to land?” Barrett asks, sensible as always. “I mean, Dahlia would have to clear them, right?”

“Or Gemma,” Dane says snidely. “She does own the place, after all.”

Dahlia glares at him spitefully, the mere fact of the matter incensing her.

“I think she would have, at the very least, mentioned it. She knows we’ve been worried about them.”

Barrett sighs, “Aren’t there security cams everywhere? We can check those to settle this.”

Dahlia would be worried if she didn’t know Quentin had his team scrub the photage from the night of Muriel and Tobias’ murders. There should be nothing incriminating on any of them.

“Of course, we can pull it up inside.”

Gemma and Riley walk off the lifts as they are heading into the Winton Penthouse, following behind the group. Dane catches them up and Gemma denies having been in contact with Muriel beyond when she was last on D’ian. Dahlia accesses the security cams for this floor and finds the file for the night of the dinner party. It’s mostly uneventful after Gemma and company join everyone in the Winton Penthouse but she slows it down after Alka leaves to get her shawl. They see her coming out and stop. Switching to another angle, there is a blurred shape out in the turret that is not there when Alka moves through the space. The blur appears again near the corridor but vanishes just as quickly.

They scan through the following days to find several blurs appear, disappear, and reappear in various places on the floor. No one enters or exits the lifts during these times, some of which are in the dead of night. Some of the blurs wander the corridor while others collect in the turret. The photage from earlier this morning shows several blurs, seven maybe eight separate entities, forming a circle in the turret. They vanish as soon as Trichelle and Ples step out into the corridor and head for the lifts.

“Okay weird,” Quentin says. “But it doesn’t prove anything, especially if we can't see anything. It could be faulty equipment, a smudge on the lens, whatever.”

Gemma disputes him, “If that were true, we would see these blurs regardless of the time which isn’t the case. These very clearly appear at different points in time. Can you show us earlier this afternoon when they came back?”

Dahlia nods, skipping ahead until she finds the point when Trichelle and Ples return. A blur appears in the turret, just as they had said. They can see them become aware of it, Ples even calling out but it disappears when they approach. Trichelle and Ples talk and a blur appears to pass them, startling them both.

“Stop it,” Riley says. “Right there. See?”

Dahlia taps the controls, freezing the image.

"What the hell is that?"

"Is that...a face?"

"Holy shit."

Through the blur, they can make out the shoulder of an Imperial uniform and the face of a man. She tries to zoom in as much as it will allow and there is very clearly a man’s face, defined jawline, dark hair, with features that look…familiar.

"That's definitely a someone."

Barrett grabs his datapad, “Send me the image. If he’s an Imperial agent he’ll be in our database. I can run a facial scan to confirm.”

Dahlia snips a square around the man’s face and sends it to Barrett.

“Give me a moment, I’m running it now.”

Everyone glances between each other, a shared sense of dread washing over them. Dahlia knows bad things happened here but she did not anticipate any lingering energy. Why now? She’s been here before, often for extended periods of time, and she hasn’t seen anything. Her gaze travels across to Dane, Gemma, and Riley – the other three members of The Four. Could it be that these energies only manifest in the presence of all of them? As far as she can tell, their counterparts – Karen, Melanie, Kimber, and Valerie – have appeared to them individually. What if their collective energies, Force-sensitive, and touchstones, as the prophecy allegedly called them, can cause those that died in connection to them to manifest? This is not a line of thought she wants to pursue.

Quinn finally glances up from the couch, "The suspense is literally killing me. So your place is haunted? It's kind of cool actually."

“Got it,” Barrett says, ignoring her and turning the device toward them.

Navris, Mod. Imperial Security Bureau. Deceased. Dossier classified.

The name rings a bell, sending murmurs through some of them. It had appeared in the documentary as well the movie series based on it. Liberties had been taken, of course, but the ties were factually confirmed. It’s on record. Riley goes entirely pale. Gemma clutches his arm as it dawns on Dahlia who that is.

“Riley,” she whispers. “That’s…your father.”





-TBC

[Syren]

“You smiled at the sunrise
Longed for a last night
Baby you know

The diamond days are done.”

-Cruel Youth

Hesperidium

Surface: Diamant Island

Awkwardness ensues.

In the days following the strange reveal, some are hoping to write it off while others feel it deserves further exploration. Riley is stunned and confused. How could the ghost of his father be here? He retreats to the Masterton Penthouse where he remains in a quiet reflection. Gemma comforts him as best she can although she has her own questions, questions that Alka and Dane are more than happy to pursue.

However, the files on Mod Navris are classified as are most of the official documentation on anyone connected to the original Four. The documentary went only so far and the Holo-flick series takes so many creative liberties for the sake of a skewed narrative that no one can really tell what may actually be true. There are some similarities; Navris was part of a team that had Karen Winton forced on them as part of a stint as Imperial diplomat. That part always seemed strange – a spoiled socialite seemingly miscast as some kind of benevolent emissary. It had some successes as she negotiated Contruum’s alliance with the Empire which later held disastrous consequences for their former governor, Indew Strye and became the orbital grounds for a standoff with the Hapan Consortium. This is how, it is claimed, that Mod Navris met Kimber Patten. Their relationship was forbidden and was the second of two fated romances with Patten that ended in murder. Or so the story goes.

Dane pounds on the console, blowing air through clenched teeth.

“This is pointless. All we have is heavily disputed media. The Corellian reporter who gathered the intel is hardly reputable and those films are a joke.”

Alka tries to find a silver lining, “His sources included firsthand accounts from Melanie Masterton and Kimber Patten. That’s got to count for something.”

“The Holo is full of stories about how the Empire denied everything.”

“Of course, they would,” Gemma says. “They manipulated teenage girls into a galaxy-wide power play that cost countless lives.”

“I didn’t know he died here. Riley’s father.”

“How would you? Those things came out when we were infants. We only knew about them at all because Muriel’s mother played our mother in the series. But it makes sense if what the documentary says is true. Navris’ first team was destroyed on the Abyss but his second team was murdered here, in the Bolerathon Tower.”

“Not just here,” Alka says, pointing at the door. “Across that hall, in the Winton Penthouse. And they’re not the only ones. This place is filled with death. We’re staying in what is essentially a graveyard for the whims of your sister and her friends.”

It stings but it’s true.
 
“I’m sorry, Gemma. I didn’t mean that-“

“It’s okay,” she says softly. “You are right. It was foolish coming here, especially after….after…”

She doesn’t have to finish. The wounds of Preston and Roman’s deaths are still raw and would be for some time. This development only serves as a distraction from their pain yet it is one that is now worth their effort. Riley is hurting and Gemma wants answers.
 
“I’ll be back. Stay with Riley.”

“Where are you going?”

“To see if our Imperial friends can shed some light on anything.”

Gemma steps across the corridor and enters the Winton Penthouse, her stride is purposeful and determined. There are no signs of Quentin or Quinn and someone is taking a shower. She finds Barrett out on the balcony, staring out across the ocean below.

“I need to talk to you.”

He turns but does not look surprised, “I figured. How’s Riley?”

“Traumatized, obviously. And please don’t pretend you care. It’s cheap.”

“Always assuming things, aren’t you, Gemma? You don’t know me.”

“I know you can’t be trusted.”

Barrett’s features are tight around that chiseled jaw, “Even after I found out who killed your parents? I thought that bringing the three of you some kind of closure would establish some trust between us.”

“For Dahlia, sure. Dane, maybe.”

“And you?”

“It only leads to more questions.”

“Shoot.”

Gemma swallows, realizing she is here now so she’d better make it count.

“How did you even discover it was Vex Sienna?”

“It wasn’t that difficult to connect the dots, Gemma. He was romantically linked with Karen Winton who shut him down in favor of an Emperor. Sienna was obsessed. Once they were gone, he saw this as an opportunity and sought revenge.”

“A spurned Imperial agent murdering the parents of his dead lovers’ friends’ siblings? That’s a bit of a reach as far as motives go.”

“That's because you aren't looking at it from a tactical perspective. It wasn’t just about Karen. It was about all of them. The Four. You can’t stand there and tell me you really don’t know the power your names actually have. Sienna must have known that being able to control even a few of you could give him valuable leverage.”

“To whom?”

“Name it. The Empire, the Republic, the Hapan’s, anyone who was caught in their crossfire all those years ago. Anyone could bargain for power with you four in the palm of their hand. Riley’s parents were already gone, as were Dahlia’s. Celeste Masterton and Rutherford Gellar were the last two obstacles in his way. Think, Gemma. The guardianship would have sealed the deal and he could have used it to manipulate Dahlia and Riley. He would have had all four of you exactly where he wanted you.”

She is horrified by even the thought of it and even more so by the fact that he is right. They were so close to being in the Empire’s clutches. Gemma stares into his face, searching for some expression that would reveal an ulterior motive.

“Why? Why would you stop him if you knew what kind of advantage that would give the Empire?”

“Because I love her, Gemma. I wouldn’t let Dahlia or her family be slaves to Sienna’s whims.”

“How noble.”

“You don’t believe me?”

“Not entirely, no. You stand to gain just as much from controlling us as he did.”

Barrett crosses his arms, knowing she is as stubborn as she is clever.

“What do I need to do to prove it to you?”

She smiles, barely, those blonde curls caught in the breeze.

“Use your access to help us find out what happened here and why."

“Gemma, I’m not-“

“You are Emperor Schrag’s proxy in the Republic, Barrett. You have access and authority no one else does. So, let’s put it to good use. You uncovered the truth for us and Riley deserves to know what really happened to his father.”

“Even if you may not like what I find?”

She raises her head, defiant, recalling Dahlia’s quip about what happened between Karen and Melanie in the end.

“Not all truths are pleasant but it sure beats being lied to.”

Barrett considers something the nods, “As you wish, Lady Masterton.”





-TBC

[Syren]

“Is it me? Is it you?
Can I trust myself? I need somehow
I'm fine don't ask
The truth is. The nightmares underneath, it's useless
Oh well, who cares? The truth is the monster in my head is ruthless”

-The Moth & The Flame

Hesperidium

Surface: Diamant Island: Bolerathon Tower

“Are you insane?”

Barrett leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed as Dahlia carefully dabs on a frosted lipstick. He shrugs, irritating her, but he doesn’t see the point in her objections.

“Helping Gemma is like helping the Jedi, Barrett.”

“Aren’t they all but extinct these days?”

“Pretty much.”

“Then why does it matter? She asked for my help and, to be fair, I’d be freaking out too if I were Riley. I’m curious to know now.”

She sighs, “It’s not like you can just pull the photage from, like, twenty-some years ago.”

“That’s not entirely true.”

Dahlia straightens, turning to face him.

“What do you mean?”

He weighs his options here, knowing what he does about her and their current situation. Emperor Schrag allowed Dahlia to take Vex Sienna out in exchange for Dane Gellar’s blood. He was told Gellar’s genetic material contained something they wanted although the context of which was vague at best. Her victory in the guardianship would be short-lived as both Dane and Gemma would turn eighteen in the late fall. Somehow, she managed to wrangle the Four in one place, exactly as the Emperor wanted. There were no directives beyond that, no specific instructions on what Dahlia was to do with her newfound powers of attorney.

They have even more leverage than Vex would have had in their position but he meant what he told Gemma. He loves Dahlia and doesn’t want to see her a pawn in anyone’s game. Her sisters weren’t so lucky and that turned out terribly for everyone. However, his access allows them a deeper look into the Winton familial history and that is not a place he is certain she wants to go. He's not even sure what he'll find if he peeks into that black hole or if what she's shown him is really who she is. Still, he finds himself drawn into her mazes.

“The files from that time period were confiscated.”

“Celeste Masterton would never have let that happen.”

“From what I gathered, there was a lapse between the transfer of ownership of the Bolerathon Tower from Henrick Masterton to his wife. One was presumed dead, and the other missing. The Empire got the files before Celeste resurfaced in the Corporate Sector.”

“That’s bullshit. My real father built this place. It should be mine.”

“Officially, it was a joint venture between Masterton and Winton. An even split. When your parents were killed in that Bakuran speeder crash, ownership defaulted to Masterton. Celeste was just the next in line as was Gemma. You weren’t officially provisioned, only Karen and Alexia were.”

She smirks, knowing full well her father didn’t die in that crash. Adubell showed her that much. Now the same quest for immortality continues at the hands of Emperor Schrag. He doesn’t know what he’s getting himself into if what Adubell showed her is any indication. Nothing but horror and repeated death await those who possess the legacy gene. Barrett is tempting fate by digging into the Winton's...and that excites her.

“Thanks for sharing. How does that and your stolen photage help Gemma?”

“Not sure yet,” he says. “I haven’t gone through it all but I do know both of Riley’s parents were here the night his father died.”

She brushes up against him, “Ooo, how mysterious.”

“Dahlia, I combed over the photage from the other night. There were what appeared to be several other Imperial agents wandering your halls. All of them died here.”

“So? This place was a bloodbath once upon a time."

“So, some of the other guests claimed to have seen friends of yours that have been missing for some time. It makes you wonder.”

Quentin is hollering from the foyer, rounding everyone up for a night out. Trichelle and Ples join them as does a rather faded looking Quinn. Dane and Alka would meet them at the club but Gemma understandably would stay behind with Riley. Dahlia runs a finger down his chest then saunters away slowly in those heels.

“It does, doesn’t it?”




-TBC

[Syren]

Hesperidium

Surface: Diamant Island

Beams of colored light swirl over the writhing bodies on the dancefloor of Club Hex.

They needed this. A night out. There is so much tension that yearns for sweet release. A collision course. Dahlia couldn’t find the right moment to clue Quentin in on Barrett’s little investigation. His query would not lead to good things, that much she’s certain of.More than likely, Riley’s father met a grisly end. At least that’s what was implied in the Holo-doc. The big production of the story – The Coruscant that Was – displayed lots of gore on the set of the Winton Penthouse but left much to the imagination. It showed Karen and Kimber discover the scene in all its blood-soaked glory but only flashes of the bodies. There wasn’t any context either, only that this team had been murdered to teach them a lesson: none of them were safe. The singular detail on any of the agents was the doctor, Felicia Kensington, who had been slain aboard the princess’ flagship and staged for Karen to find in her penthouse. It was brutal but effective. There was a lot of screaming.

Dahlia knows Barrett’s heart is in the right place but asking questions about Muriel and Tobias may very well change that. He’s already made the link; those that were killed in the Bolerathon Tower remain there, trapped in some kind of spirit form. Had they really been here this whole time? Now, only with all four of them together, can they be seen. Something about their collective energy bends the laws they think they know. Dahlia doesn’t want him to know about her and Quentin’s drug-fueled murder spree. How sad for Muriel and Tobias…the two that were going to escape it all find themselves anchored to the tower forever.

Barrett sips what could be his forth or fifth cocktail from a private lounge, watching Dahlia, Quentin, and Quinn dance together. Dane, Alka, Ples, and Trichelle called it a night hours ago and wishes he’d done the same. He isn’t really into this scene. It’s much too chaotic for him. Barrett prefers the order of the negotiating, planning out detailed strategies to make good on the promises the Empire made. He’d won over hardened senators left and right. Their borders were more secure than ever but Gemma does bring up an interesting point – there was a price. There always is. The Republic is highly regulated with an anti-Force User sentiment that has bordered on paranoia. That was by design, of course. Gemma can’t go near the capital and therefore would not interfere with their plans.

Quentin is another story.

Although Dahlia is with Barrett, she seems more at ease with Quentin. It is as if he knows her better than he ever could and that troubles him. His jealousy is immature, he knows, but he can’t help it. He knows Dahlia isn’t telling him the whole story which drives the feeling that they are hiding something from him. He has been as open as he can with her despite Emperor Schrag’s cautioning against the Winton motives. Her personal branding aside, which rivals that of Karen, he wonders how much of Alexia lurks beneath that beautiful surface. The eldest Winton sister was always portrayed as the crazy one. Schrag told him that it was their fathers meddling that turned her into what she was. Dahlia is always so cagey when it comes to her biological family as if she is intent on replacing their legacy with her own. Both Karen and Alexia held a terrifying power, a power that has spawned rumors over the years he has difficulty fathoming. Tossing a Star Destroyer out of orbit through the Force? Come on. Murdering a professor and destroying an entire floor of their high school? Yeah, right.

Yet, there is mounting evidence to the contrary. He assumed Vex Sienna was her first kill but now he’s not so sure. He pulled the vids from the previous summer and found them clean. A little too clean. He knows Imperial work when he sees it. Dahlia and Quentin were both here during that time and any manipulations to the photage would indicate there was something to conceal.

They leave the club in the early morning hours, returning to the Bolerathon Tower. In the lift, Quentin pulls a squealing Quinn close with one hand while the other brushes brazenly up Dahlia’s thigh. He’s drunk, Barrett tells himself. They both are but that doesn’t stop him. He pushes Quentin’s hand away and shoves him back against the wall. Quinn moves toward a startled Dahlia and Quentin throws his arms up.

“What the fuck, man?”

“Don’t touch her.”

“Hey!” Dahlia snaps. “I can speak for myself, thank you very much.”

Barrett and Quentin are locked in an intense stare that signifies this is happening anyway. Quentin takes the first shot, the cheap bastard, but it’s all Barrett needed to go. They grapple in the lift, slamming each other against opposite walls. The scuffle is short and ends with them panting and glaring at one another.

Quinn yawns, “Boy, boys.”

“Knock it off. This isn’t like you, Barrett.”

“Yeah, what’s your problem, B?”

“You are, Q. There’s something between you.”

“Who?”

“You and Dahlia. The two of you are hiding something.”

Mercifully, the lift doors hiss open but for a long moment, no one moves.

“I like hiding,” Quinn says dreamily, sliding between them. “I hide from myself all the time.”

Quentin pops the collar of his leather jacket and follows her out. Barrett trails him and Dahlia rolls her eyes but follows. The corridor is eerily quiet with no sign of their spectral interlopers. He isn't about to let this go.

“You aren’t denying it.”

“Nothing to deny.”

“Really? Then why do your friends from high school appear with the apparent ghosts of long-dead Imperial agents who were killed in this tower? Something tells me you know.”

“You don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“I know what I saw,” Barrett says. “We learned the same scrubbing techniques at Academy, remember? You wiped the photage and I want to know why.”

“Why don’t you ask your girlfriend.”

“Barrett, you don’t understand…”

“That’s right, B. You don’t understand – her or anything else.”

“And you do?”

“Yeah, maybe I do. Better than you.”

“That’s rich, coming from the one who killed her parents.”

Quentin’s face falls, “You motherf-“

“What are you even saying right now? You told me Vex Sienna did.”

“Vex did the deed but who do you think gave him the order?”

Quentin and Dahlia turn to face each other and there is hatred in her eyes. The emerald color pulses brightly then darken into blackness. Never a good sign. His heart is pounding because he knows that whatever glimmer of feeling she may have had for him has been stomped out in just thirteen words. And she would make him say it.

“Is…that true?”

Quentin’s jaw is tight but he won’t lie to her, “It’s tru-“

She slaps him, hard and quick, cutting off his words. The air around them seems to ripple as she uses her power to lift and toss him down the corridor. Quentin doesn’t scream as he hits the slick floor, tumbling into a slow skid. She stalks toward him but Quinn darts forward, slamming and pinning Dahlia against the wall.

“Dahlia, enough.”

Her gorgeous face is slack and stern with a speed and strength no one was expecting. They have never seen her activated before and the impact is appropriately unnerving. Looks like the nano-tech they procured from ChemiX was worth the investment. No one expects the sullen model to be a sleeper. Quinn eases off and takes a step back, allowing Barrett to continue.

“Tell me what happened.”

“They’re dead,” Dahlia whispers. “Both Muriel and Tobias. I lost control of my powers and Quentin covered it up.”

The confirmation calms something in him although the fact that she turned to Quentin and not him still stings. He was here, Barrett was not. Up until recently, part of his orders involved keeping an eye on her. Now he knows why.

“Why didn’t you say anything? I could have helped you.”

She knows that now, she’s known it all along but something kept her from confiding in him. Feelings for a person she should never have placed faith in. A person she's covering for now. Quentin murdered Tobias. They share this burden and although she is furious with him now, she's more furious with Barrett.

Dahlia takes a breath before turning to him.

“Plausible deniability which you no longer have. A part of me doesn’t want you to think of me the same way the Empire does, as a liability that cannot be trusted. There is a lot I can control. I’ve trained in some form every day since my kidnapping. But there is something deeper, darker underneath that I…don't understand. The Emperor fears it. I saw it in his eyes on Byss. I don’t want to see the same thing in yours.”

Barrett extends a hand, “Never.”

She stares at it but does not take it, finally raising her eyes to meet his.

“I don’t know if I believe that.”





-TBC

[Syren]

Hesperidium

Surface: Diamant Island

The club is complete madness and Alka has had enough. She expected nothing less. This is the infamous Club Hex, a place where The Four once ruled the dancefloor. It’s no wonder the crowds came out in full force when they heard about the second coming. The media was all over their entrance with Dahlia in the lead. Of course. They are like accessories to her or at least that’s what it seems. Dane is wasted and she’s ready to go. Thankfully, Ples is also over it and the four of them leave the others behind.

Trichelle is about to barf so Ples rushes her back into the Winton Penthouse with a hasty goodnight. Dane and Alka stumble across the hall into the Masterton Penthouse, finding a scene they were not expecting. An ambient glow casts an array of shadows, distorting their movement. There are candles lit everywhere and they find Riley kneeling in the center of the living room. Gemma appears dressed in a gauzy white gown.

“What…is going on?”

“A séance, of course. Time to find some answers.”

“I thought you had Barrett on that,” Dane slurs, smirking.

“I don’t trust Barrett. And neither should you.”

“We don’t,” Alka says. “It’s just, well, this seems…extreme, don’t you think?”

Riley turns to look at them, “More extreme than seeing my dead father, a father I never met, lurking around this place? We can't trust the Imperial's will tell us the truth anyway, not if they were involved.”

Alka and Dane exchange glances, shrug, then join them to complete the circle. Gemma kneels and closes her eyes, drawing deep as the Force flows through her. They join hands. She has connected to everything around her and the rush of emotions is both jarring and comforting at the same time. She expands her radius outward, seeking the spirits haunting these halls. She finds one then another, a rush of cold pulsing through her.

“They are angry,” she whispers.

“Who wouldn’t be?”

“Dane, focus.”

“Mod Navris…if you are there, you have nothing to fear from us. I am here with your son.”

The silence prickles with static, building tension around them. A sound one would find difficult to identify permeates through the walls, slowly growing into a low, guttural hum.

“Reveal yourself. You are safe here.”

A form materializes in the center like a combination of smoke and pixelized color that begin to take shape. A man in an Imperial uniform, charcoal gray with black accents. The unmistakable wheel sigil is emblazoned on his arm. His face is unfamiliar to them but instantly recognizable. Riley may have his mother’s nose and eyes but he also has his father’s jawline and chin.

“Father…”

“Son?” Mod says. “I…never knew. Your mother? Where’s Kimber?”

Riley’s face falls and he shakes his head.

“Gone. Many years ago. I never knew her but she has appeared to me before."

Dane makes a noise. So, the ghost of Kimber appeared to Riley just as Valerie had appeared to him. Guess they all got visits from the specters of poor choices past. Mod gazes around the circle, lingering on the faces of Gemma and Dane.

“You are them. Masterton. Gellar.”

His vacant eyes return to Riley.

“And Patten. Where is Winton?”

“On Hesperidium but not here, why?”

“A new Four, a new game. Five will die. The Four survive.”

Dane gasps incredulously, “What the hell is he talking about?”

“The prophecy,” Gemma says. “It was not fulfilled. They all died and the child lived. That child is your son, Riley. He stopped everything from coming to pass.”

“No,” Mod says, his voice distorted. “It was just incomplete.”

“There’s more? Bloody hell."

“Another piece. One the father of Winton could never find.”

“A scroll?”

His figure dims, flickering into the shadows stretching across the room.

“An amulet, forged in the place of the prophecy but hidden on the world of an ancient order."

Riley’s heart is racing, his mind not understanding what his father was telling them. That prophecy killed their predecessors and everyone around them. Not a great clue to know the past is not at rest, nor would it be until they had all played their parts. Right now, he needs to know about his father.

“How are you here?”

Mod glances down at his son, “We were betrayed by one of our own. Agent Guile. They wanted Karen’s power, a dark and terrible abomination, and they knew I was going to run away with Kimber. To protect her. They could never have that. Gellar was dead and Masterton had amassed allies in the Jedi. We, our team, were liabilities that had come to care for them. Nothing could stop their plan and so Agent Guile eliminated us and we’ve been doomed to walk these empty halls for eternity.”

Gemma raises her eyes, “We can free you. All of you. You do not have to suffer for their sins any longer.”

“Masterton,” Mod whispers. “You would do us great honor if you could but know that you are in danger. It comes for you. For them.”

“Who?”

“You know who. It will not stop because it is of you.”

“Wait,” Dane nearly shouts. “What about Muriel and Tobias? They were never part of your little team. Why are they here?”

“The newest of us were murdered here too.”

“When?”

“Time no longer has meaning but you cannot free us. Not without the forth.”

“Oh shit,” Dane mutters. “We need Dahlia.”

Gemma nods, “I promise. For Riley. We will set you all free.”

Mod turns once more to look at Riley, a faint smile creasing his solemn face.

“I never knew you, son but know that I love you.”

He chokes back a sob and nods, “I love you too.”

Mod’s form fades just as the candle flames flare high before being extinguished with a collective hiss. The tendrils of smoke curl through the air as Riley breaks down, falling onto his hands. It is overwhelming and wonderful and horrifying. Too many things to feel at once. Gemma comforts him but shoots a look across the circle at Dane and Alka. She does not have to say it to know what the look means.

Muriel and Tobias are dead. They came here on holiday but never left. According to Mod’s warning, that would bring the body count up to four – Muriel, Tobias, Preston, Roman – so who’s next?




-TBC

[Syren]

Hesperidium

Surface: Diamant Island: Imperial Beach

Tense does not even begin to cover it.

Their aura's positively dripped with suspicion, blame, and disdain. There are a lot of awkward silences as the beautiful creatures spread out across the deserted white sand shores of Imperial Beach. It’s not like there isn’t a good reason because Dahlia knew it would end up like this. Not exactly at each other’s throats but close. There is something almost sexy about the restrained rage and unspoken accusations. Dahlia smiles at it all despite her annoyance and frustration. She's pissed at everyone right now but no one is blameless here.

Riley seems at peace after his encounter with his father’s spirit. Noticeably so. He’s not exactly back to his quirky self but something has crystalized for him. This is as close to closure as he was going to get so he takes the win and tries to be grateful. Master Donovan had taught him that. There are so many things they take for granted, so much that they have others are denied. It was only some time after the fact that Riley realized some of the other things his father told them.

Five will die.

He’s heard it before. They all have. It was part of their legend. Everyone around the original Four was systematically exterminated. Their group of friends murdered several times over. Riley glances at and then over Gemma’s sculpted body to Alka and Trichelle splashing around in the clear water, Ples and Dane walking along the shore, Dahlia beneath a circle of shade staring out from behind giant black sunglasses, Barrett on his stomach sunning himself, and Quentin and Quinn kissing over a poorly made sandcastle. He may not like every single one of them but he doesn’t want to see any of them die.

Gemma isn't the only one who did the math. Four down, one to go. That is, if they really believe what his father told them. Dane thinks it’s impossible that Mod Navris, who died relatively early in their saga, would know about the concluding piece to the prophecy. As an Imperial agent, it’s unclear how much he actually knew. He was Security not Intelligence. Still, one more death on the list would mean that one of them may not make it off Hesperidium. Kind of like Muriel and Tobias.

If the Four survive then Alka, Barrett, Ples, Quentin, Quinn, and Trichelle have targets on them.

The larger threat than the kill count is the cause and motive. They knew how Preston and Roman died. There was context. For all anyone knew, Muriel and Tobias had been gallivanting across the galaxy for the past year. Instead, they were here, trapped in the Bolerathon Tower with everyone else who had been murdered on the very top floor – a collection of ghosts without any particular place to go. Is the killer among them?

Triggered by the revelation and still reeling from the loss of Preston and Roman, Alka demanded they confront the others. She wanted to march across that hall and have it out in the middle of the night. Dane was drunk and useless and Riley was emotionally distraught so Gemma talked her off that ledge. It wouldn’t be wise to go in there with accusations that could be so easily discounted. Not everyone may roll with the ghost-dad-drops-the-knowledge bit. Riley knows they need more than that and he knows damn well that Barrett isn’t about to give anything up that would incriminate Dahlia or the Empire. They would get the standard Imperial company line.

Gemma is more concerned about what is supposedly coming for them. She knows the Inquisitor would not stay in that cave forever. What she doesn’t know is how it is “of” them. It almost sounded like they somehow created it but that cannot be true. The Inquisitor operates on the orders of someone even if she doesn’t think that someone is here in the Hessy. Then there is the issue of the amulet, the piece of the prophecy that managed to stay out of reach this whole time. What does it mean? What can the amulet do? This other piece of the prophecy was never mentioned in any version of The Four’s story. She wonders if Dahlia knows about this as she’d already been tight-lipped about her knowledge of the Inquisitor’s mask. She is not the sharing type unless the threat extended to include her as well. This very well could.

Her blue eyes find their way into the sky to the faint amber sphere of the new Coruscant. So much of their past is tied to that planet, none of which they would ever know. It was destroyed so long ago and would keep its secrets forever. The Holo chatter indicates this caught everyone off guard. No one expects a planet to simply reform and resume its place in the galaxy. A heavy Imperial presence is reported around it with scientists rumored to have been dispatched to investigate. She doubts they would ever see those reports unless they could cajole Barrett or Quentin into revealing them. Barrett is the likelier candidate and she muses on how best to leverage his inevitable lack of findings related to Riley’s father. A rogue Imperial agent killed Navris and the others. That fact would cast further doubt over the others so it's unlikely Barrett would be so forthcoming. Coruscant looms over them, an ominous presence above their summer holiday.
 
One thing is for certain, they have to get onto that planet before whatever comes next claims its next victim.




-TBC

[Syren]

Hesperidium

Surface: Diamant Island: Bolerathon Tower

Another day, another dinner party.

It’s become woefully warm, typical of this late in the season. At night the heat breaks and a cool ocean breeze sweeps through the penthouses but does little to blow away the lingering tension that remains. Dahlia hates when men get petty and Barrett’s rivalry with Quentin is as annoying as it is unbecoming. He isn’t entirely wrong either. She feels…something for Quentin. Felt. He’d managed to kill off that doubt pretty quickly in Barrett’s revelation. She should have expected nothing less. They are Imperial’s, after all. She needs to remember the Empire is notorious for manipulating the Winton’s.

Not this time.

The malaise continues, exquisitely. Alka is easily handling Ples, Gemma, and Riley in a card game when her emerald eyes catch and follow Dane as he grabs two ales and joins Barrett out on the balcony. She moves to intervene but is sidelined by Trichelle, who pulls her back to dish on the new selections Quinn had been sent from a few choice designers.

Dane hands a bottle to Barrett, cocking his head to the side as he stares out over the blue expanse below. He’s not coping well, or so he’s been told. Alka is irritated and he gets that but his girlfriend is part of the prophecy hit list, a prophecy that just keeps on giving. He’s gotta process this in his own way. And right now, he feels like ribbing the rules guy.

“Enjoying your time here?”

“It’s more solitary that I would have thought but just as well. I’m not really much for the crowds anyway.”

Dane smirks, “You tolerate them well.”

“They are nothing compared to the conniving of the Senators. This is just white noise. Static. I can get lost in that. What about you, Dane? Or should I say, Lord Gellar? Your family is big on the titles, right?”

“Some more than others. I’m dealing. Mostly. It sucks losing friends.”

“We’ve all lost people close to us.”

“And who have you lost, Barrett?”

He turns, appraising him. “I suppose that depends on why you are asking.”

“Curiosity. Boredom. Pick one.”

“You don’t like me much and that’s okay with me.”

Dane shrugs, “Dahlia likes you and that alone is enough to make me suspicious. You agreed to help Gemma out of concern for Riley but that’s not really going to happen, is it? I’m sure there’s a lot of things you guys keep close to the chest when it comes to us.”

Barrett slugs from the bottle and laughs, “I feel like this is building toward something relevant so why don’t you just spit it out?”

“You aren’t going to tell us what happened with Riley’s father just like you aren’t going to tell us what happened to Muriel and Tobias. You could but that would make everyone look bad. It would complicate things. I mean, more than they already are. The Empire is busy rehabbing its image with the Republic and there’s no way you’d compromise Dahlia or your little friends.”

“What does Dahlia have to do with this?”

“Everything. She’s a Winton and we both know what that means.”

Barrett’s stoic features are reflected in Dane’s dark sunglasses, ones he never bothered to remove even as the sun slips further and further into the horizon. They stand in silence for a while. He’s got to give it to Dane. He’s sharper than he looks. Even through the alcohol haze. The apparitions of slain Imperial agents juxtaposed with the murdered teens is difficult to explain, especially now that he knows the truth. Dahlia is potentially unstable, dangerous, just as the Emperor said she was. He's grappling with that as well as his jealousy. The worse part is that Quentin knew and never reported it. Now he knows why. How long before Dahlia lost control completely? Quentin already got to him and he's not about to let Dane do the same. 

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

Dane chuffs, making a face.

"You forget I’ve known what my sister is capable of long before you did. Both of them, actually."

He taps his bottle against Barrett’s.

“Buckle up, bro. This doesn’t end well for anyone.”





-TBC