CC: The Crimson Covenant

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Valor Preparatory Academy

The return of the Gellar-Masterton children had been discussed intensely in an emergency meeting called by the school board. Further complicating the matter was the admission that they had a Winton enrolled the whole time. Opinion varies widely but the focus remains on reintegrating the children back into a safe learning environment. The school counselor, a child psychology specialist, had also been briefed on the situation with specific instructions to tend to the possible backlash of the trauma they suffered. No one on the board could see any reason to bar Dahlia Winton from attending, despite her namesake. She was, after all, not raised in the same environment as her sisters and the press conference called by Rutherford Gellar stated she had been relocated for her protection. In the end, they side with the best educational interests of the children and send word that they would be welcomed at the start of the fall term.

*

It is more than just a little uncomfortable. Gemma stares through the window of the hoverlimo as it idles in the drop-off zone. It had taken some coaxing to even get them into the transport given how their last ride ended. Celeste had been assured facing this part of the trauma would help build confidence. Gemma seems less certain.

"What if they forgot about us?"

"Yeah, right. Like that's gonna happen."

"I do not think that is possible," Celeste says gently. "I understand you are all nervous but the counselor said you did not have to discuss anything with anyone you did not feel comfortable with. Her offices are open to all three of you. She wants to make sure this is a smooth transition. Your father and I want that as well."

Dane groans and taps open the door, stepping out and walking confidently toward his classmates. Gemma glances at her mother then follows. Celeste touches Dahlia's arm softly.

"Sweetie, take your time getting back in the swing of things. We just want everything to return to normal."

Dahlia smiles, "Thank you, mother."

Normal. What a joke. If she only knew how abnormal things had become. She was still smarting from the lack of conclusion within the holocrons. The story was compelling but told her virtually nothing of use. Not yet anyway. There were more important and pressing appearances to keep up at the moment which include regaining her social position while carefully evading the newly increased security detail. Thankfully, one of the Voss-Ra disciples had murdered a key agent and replaced him using his talent for shape shifting as part of the ruse to ensure her mobility while feigning security. Her "parents" were none the wiser, consumed with relief yet shackled with uncertainty and guilt. She would add to that distraction later. Now, it was time to shine.

The time spent as a captive left little room for the pampering and grooming habits she had become accustomed to which is why she spent most of the weekend under the care of their personal stylist – hair, nails, waxing, the works. There is no rule that says you can't be attractive and popular whilst plotting to take down the Republic, right?

Right.

Dahlia steps out of the limo a new woman indeed but would conceal these talents beneath the guise of a delicate flower, traumatized by her kidnapping and torture. The professors and staff would need to believe the ordeal was life-changing and, even as a Winton, she was not a threat. To them, her confidence would return slowly. To the student body, she would manipulate her way back into that arena. The kids of the Corporate Sector are fickle and cruel. These were attributes which could be exploited for personal gain. With things set in motion in the Republic, much to Emperor Schrag's liking, she was free to focus on the here and now. Eventually, she would have to find a way to legitimize a presence within the Republic capital but she would crib that avenue of exposure from Karen. After all, everyone loves a pretty face.

These evil inner working are shaken when she spots Muriel lingering nearby. She had forgotten all about her best friend and the void her absence must have left in her life. Muriel already struggles with abandonment issues with her mother and Dahlia can only imagine someone as self-absorbed as LeVanya Monroe would not have been much comfort or support after she was kidnapped. She bounds up to her and throws her arms around her. Muriel clings tightly, trying not to cry. Dahlia steps back, still holding onto her hands.

"I missed you."

Muriel's lip trembles.

"You have no idea…"

There is a moment when the darkness clears but she remembers that sentimentality breeds weakness and she forces herself to butch it up. Adubell would have beaten her for that lapse but that bitch is dead and there would undoubtedly be missteps during her reintegration. She may be wicked powerful but she's still a teenager. She must take the lessons learned and practically apply them, mindful not to care too much about any one person or thing. These are potential allies, not friends.

Gemma is having a similar bonding moment with Alka and Preston, gushing and laughing and crying. Dane slaps hands with Roman and they walk off together. Simple as that. Dahlia likes Dane's brash attitude. He's been a real pain in the ass since he got back. She wonders what he got up to on Corellia and makes a mental note to follow up.

The inevitable classes follow but, with her newfound abilities, retaining and applying knowledge is a breeze. School suddenly comes more easily to her, each subject more intriguing than the last. She had been a decent student before, not nearly as smart as Gemma of course but not as dense as Dane. Now she could put both of them to shame with a grade point average the school would celebrate and her parents would cheer. Captivity, torture and training make one smarter. Who knew? She suspects it is not a method the Valor Prep board would adopt.

During a break, Dahlia stops by her locker when she hears a familiar voice behind her.

"Welcome back," Trichelle says. "How was the kidnapping?"

Dahlia turns slowly, smirking.

"Probably not as fun as your meteoric rise to the top of the social scene but I appreciate you keeping my seat warm. I'll take it from here."

"You know, we've never been that close, probably because I can barely stand you but you do have a certain something."

"Oh, you mean class and charm? Those are things you might want to look up."

"I can hold my own."

"For now," Dahlia says icily. "But I doubt you have the stamina or the stomach to keep that little façade you call a personality going. So, you can give up the throne gracefully or be socially deposed."

Trichelle rolls her eyes up.

"Clever coming from an actual royal and a dangerous one at that. You think these people are really going to trust you now that they know who you are? Let us not jest. The Winton name is poison in these parts."

"Something I'm sure you had nothing to do with."

"Nope," she retorts with a sneer. "Dead daddy dearest took care of that all by himself."

"Harsh, Trich but as you damn well know, there will always be haters."

"For you, perhaps. My family isn't responsible for the lives of countless innocents. The Corinthos name is synonymous with integrity, pride and loyalty. Can you say the same for Winton?"

Dahlia purses her lips and narrows her eyes.

Trichelle's smile widens.

"I thought not. So, as far as your little plan goes, good luck with that."

Dahlia is left standing by her open locker, completely pissed. Sure, she could just up and kill Trichelle but a murder on her first day back isn't exactly subtle. She may not have anticipated any lingering resentment people here might have toward a Winton. Her father did pull some shady shit. Alexia was a certified sociopath and Karen, while popular and famous, did leave quite the body count in her fabulous little wake. Dahlia is not working with the most trusting or flawless reputation. She would have to be the bright and shining light to save the Winton name all while balancing the darkness of her maniacal plans, undermining her adoptive parents, school work and her social life.

Just a day in the new life of Princess Dahlia Denai Winton.


-TBC

[Medivh]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

Darth D'Cera closed her eyes, sitting in the hollowed tree, breathing in and out slowly.  She could feel the pulse of energy of the world around her, her thoughts searching out - toward her family's home, toward the neighbor, toward the cities across the world.  There it was.  For some, lingering in the back, for some, more pronounced.  Fear.  Anger.  Hatred.  It was remarkable how many people felt contempt for themselves or others.  Especially in the Corporate Sector.  And the young sith loved it all.

The school day had been draining, keeping up appearances, talking with those who still called her friend - or rival, for that matter.  At the same time, shielding her Force signature so the undetected user might not pick up all that she had become.  Especially in her own house, where her mother and sister had shown signs of Force use in the past, she didn't want anything to hint to them to the truth about her.

So here she sat, feeding off of the dark feelings, the raw emotions, giving her strength, rejuvenating her in a way sleep and food simply couldn't.  Her entire body felt the waves of energy wash over her, as she thought of her own emotions, her own contempt of the world around her.  And it strengthened her further.

Only when she felt ready, did she call on the holocron to see the next chapter of the story.

*****************************
300 years ago ...

Imri stood in what looked like a closet, D'Cera's presence, in the close-quarters seemingly unnoticed.  Along the wall, vials of red liquid she assumed were blood samples, each labeled, and on a small table beneath, with a desk-lamp lit up, a series of petri dishes.

Imri's eyes were closed, one hand on one petri dish, the other on a second, and at first, nothing was happening.  Then, D'Cera felt it.  Soft at first, then the pulse of energy, the Force, flowing back and forth between Imri and the two petri dishes.  That Force presence was growing stronger and stronger, Imri's hands trembling ever so slightly.  And then, after a few minutes, it diminished, Imri opening his eyes and glancing down, pulling out a microscope from a side cabinet and placing one of the dishes beneath it.  Studying for several minutes before smiling as he took out a notebook and began writing, speaking out loud as he did.

"The Force proves to be the most effective method of instilling the enzyme into human tissue.  it keeps necessary cells intact, rather than destroys them.  Unfortunately, indirect contact is insufficient for purposes of transfer.  Furthermore, for genomic activity necessary to activate the enzyme, the gene carrying the enzyme must be mass produced.  As the enzyme is recessive, activation requires a carrier to have no dominant gene counteracting the effects.  Proposed solution: utilize sperm and egg cells to establish enzyme in new fetus.  Will need test-"

His thoughts and his writings were interrupted by a loud bang behind him.

"Imri!  your shift is starting!  Time to stop playing with microscopes!"

Imri let out a frustrated sigh, turning his head behind him.

"I'll be out in a minute!"

He closed the notebook, tucking it into the cabinet, turned and opened the door, a shaft of light blinding for a minute before eyes adjusted.

There stood Rand, the same partner from the previous experiment, worse for the ware.

"Rand, you need to be more careful. People don't know about my experimentation, and if they find out, they will shut it down. I don't appreciate you shouting at me either."

Rand took the scolding with his own sigh.

"Sorry."

Imri shook his head, turning and closing the door to the small closet behind him, and making sure it was locked.

"How's it going in there?"

"We don't talk about it out here.  What's on my list for today?"

Rand grabbed a datapad from his belt, beginning to scroll through it.

"You have a few people here suffering from cancer, one or two burn victims, and a couple with fertility problems"

"Are any of them cases we should be dealing with?"
"Your the healer, Imri.  What do I know?"

***
A few hours later, Imri was about ready to strangle his next patient - some of those burn victims deserved their morsel of pain, for the things they did.  Not to mention curing diseases wasn't exactly the jedi's main task.  Remarkable what rules the so-called masters chose to follow.  He was on the last appointment, glancing down at the datapad.

"So, what seems to be the problem?"
The man and woman were both younger looking, but both had pained looks on their faces.  it was the man who spoke, ever glancing back to his wife.

"We ... we aren't able to have children.  None of the doctors we've seen have been able to explain why, or how, or what we can do.  There are fertility treatments, but ... well, we don't really have that kind of money"

Imri nodded his head, listening as patiently as he could.

"We were hoping, maybe, the jedi could figure out what's wrong - and make it better.  We've always wanted children, ever since we got married.  Is there anything you can do?"

Imri was prepared to respond no, and possibly, how stupid it was for a family who cannot afford to get treatment to try to have a family, which costs money.

But at that moment, he felt an intuition - a presence in the force, telling him to pay attention - and his eyes turned from the husband to the wife, silent as she was.  She glanced back at him, her eyes filled with hope and despair, all at once.  Imri could see something, deep within, and he could practically see his covert experiment come into play.  He smiled, turning his gaze from her to him and back to her.

"I think I can help you - but it will take time.  It's an experimental procedure I've been preparing.  So long as you agree to abide by certain conditions, I think I can help you have your dream."

Both of them smiled broadly at the thought, glancing at each other with love before turning back to him.

"Anything we can do, we'll do it"

"Excellent."

Imri shook their hands.

"By the way, I am called Jedi Imri.  What are your names?"

The husband again spoke.

"My name is Darryl Winton.  And this is my wife, Persephone"

TBC

[Medivh]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

School certainly seemed like a dull waste of time - who had time to study, when you were busy trying to take over the galaxy and exact revenge on, oh, just about everyone?
Being at home was little better, with the over-protective, over-attentive 'mother', the brooding 'brother', the distant 'sister', and (despite his claims to change), the seemingly ever absent 'father' - now busy reclaiming his corporate empire.

Darth D'Cera had never been a nature-freak, but this rotten tree where she was spending her time had become a place of solace and sanctuary, to get away from the mundane.

That, and the compelling tale that was slowly unfolding before her, each new chapter revealing something new about herself, her past, and the keys to power.

As she took hold of the holocron this evening, instead of the vision appearing in a blur of smoke, it appeared as if the hollowed tree itself was expanding, growing wider and wider, the open space ballooning outward.

The wood, smoothing out, and cracks forming into windows that revealed the Coruscant skyline ...

*****************************
300 years ago ...

the Jedi High Council Chamber, at the top of the Jedi Temple, Darth D'Cera finding herself standing in the middle of it, the afternoon sun casting an orange glow in the room, illuminating the faces of the council. The faces were solemn, and even slightly accusatory, and not yet had a word been spoken.

In the center of the room, the Jedi Imri stood, awaiting some fate or judgment.

One master spoke first.

"Jedi Imri, we have learned that you have been attempting to manipulate cells, to use your power to cause an infertile woman to become pregnant, and create a specifically designed fetus.  Is this correct?"

Imri remained silent, and his silence was taken as admission.

"Unacceptable, this behavior is"  The wrinkly, short, green jedi master rose from his cushioned seat and walked several steps toward Imri.
"Interfere with the balance of life, the jedi do not.  Servants of the Force, are we, not its masters"

Imri stared down at the floor in silence, and the little jedi master returned to his seat, the others on the council nodding agreement with the sage words.

"Jedi Imri, your behavior here is one of a long list of acts that go against the jedi code.  Your skills in the clinic are admirable, but your behavior and attitude cannot continue.  This is your final warning.  If we find that you continue with your experimentation, you will be expelled from the jedi order."

Imri raised his gaze, his face blank of emotions but his eyes spoke of defiance.  Still, there was little he could do, standing here surrounded by the leaders of the order.  Without verbalizing a word, he simply bowed stiffly, turned, and stepped out of the chamber.

Darth D'Cera watched as he walked around the bend in the cooridor, then broke into a sprint.

"Who do they think they are?  Telling me what I can and cannot do?  Those old fools don't realize what we could do, what we could have!"
"No, they don't"

Imri stopped short, turning around, and finding no one in the cooridor with him.

"Who ...who's there?"

Imri could see no one, not at first, but then the voice again.

"You need to ask yourself, young jedi ... how is it the council learned about your noble quest?"

Imri kept looking around, but then his eyes lit up with awareness - and anger.

"Rand"

"If you are to continue with your experiment, he must be dealt with ..."

Imri looked around again, still hunting for the voice.

"Don't linger, jedi.  You have work to do"

And Imri nodded his head, heading to the turbolift and disappearing, leaving Darth D'Cera in the cooridor, the image beginning to fade away.

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

"Who's voice was it that spoke to Imri, in the hallway?  I saw no one there."

The holocron in her hands flashed.

"The sith learned long ago that the best way to hide is in plain sight.  The Jedi never suspected their temple was home to so many dark spirits.  Spirits that watched the jedi Imri, and would encourage him in his quest."

"What became of the jedi Imri? of his experiments?  what about Rand, and Persephone Winton?"

"All in good time, D'Cera.  All in good time"

TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

The grand tones of the door chimes echo throughout the main floor of the house. There had been an increased security presence surrounding the estate since the children returned. No one could get onto the grounds let alone near the house without passing through the checkpoint. A visitor at the door would mean they had been cleared. Kylie wanders through the foyer, half expecting to find Muriel or Roman standing on the steps but is surprised to find a young woman dressed in neutral robes.

"Good afternoon," she says. "May I help you?"

"Yes, I am looking for Lady Celeste Masterton."

"And who may I say is here?"

"Forgive me, my name is…"

"Nevylinn?" Garron says from behind them.

The girl smiles, "Mr. Prescott, how nice to see you again."

Kylie turns, confused.

"Friend of yours?"

"Kylie, this is the Jedi Nevylinn."

Garron had mentioned her many times when recounting the tale of how they rescued Dane and Gemma from Korriban. They were sent away with her to Naboo.

"Oh, right. The one who let Dane traipse off to Corellia by himself. Please, do come in."

Nevylinn walks past her and follows Garron deeper into the residence. Kylie closes the door and sighs. They had had enough unexpected visitors causing undue stress on the Lady of the house. As perturbed as she is that Dane, a child, had managed to escape their hideout and flee hundreds of thousands of lightyears alone, Kylie is more alarmed by what she saw Gemma do. She always knew the Force was strong with Lady Masterton thus it was passed to Melanie. Gemma was a Force sensitive and Lady Masterton had taught them about it but that was as far as it went. There had been no formal training throughout their childhood. Then Gemma returns and wields Melanie's saber as if it were a mere toy, giving Kylie reason to believe she had spent the ensuing months doing far more than hiding. This concern is tempered with a notion that someone with those particular set of skills may help prevent any future harm from befalling them. She wonders if Lady Masterton knows about this.

Kylie trails behind as Garron speaks to the Jedi.

"We were all surprised to hear about the recent registration laws enacted on Chandaar. I hope the public sentiment has not turned too far out of the Jedi's favor."

Nevylinn frowns.

"The New Year has begun and the first mandates have taken effect. Registration across the capital is already underway. The Jedi have voluntarily registered but the Speaker has taken a hard line approach to the issue."

"Then you will be pleased to know my sister has recently returned to Chandaar to help appeal those laws."

"I heard," Nevylinn says. "I was relieved to see she and the CSA liaison were exonerated in the trial. Counselor Prescott is said to be backing Senator Soldys of Corellia's push for a full repeal."

"Has any progress been made in discovering the identity of this dark Jedi that kidnapped the children?"

Nevylinn swallows hard, still unable to admit it was her own flesh and blood.

"We are still investigating."

"What a surprise," Kylie murmurs.

Garron throws her a look.

They enter the formal living room to find Celeste reading a book. She glances up and sets the book aside before standing.

"Lady Masterton," Garron says. "May I present the Jedi Nevylinn."

Celeste's clear blue eyes brighten and a smile spreads across her lips. Nevylinn is stunned by how beautiful she is in person. She had seen pictures, photage but they scarcely do her justice. The genes that made Melanie and Gemma are undeniable and striking. Celeste embraces Nevylinn tightly.

"Thank you. We owe you all a debt of gratitude for your help in rescuing our children."

"It was our pleasure."

Celeste steps back, flustered and emotional.

"Where are my manners? Welcome to our home. Is there anything we can get you?"

"Water would be great, thank you."

She nods to a service droids who disappears into the hall.

"What brings you out to our part of the galaxy? The Corporate Sector is an unusual venue for the Jedi, is it not?"

"I understand how it may seem that way but I have been asked to liaise with the Direx Board. The Republic does regular business with the Sector, even more so after the Imperial assault on the Federation, but it has been some time since we have had anyone here to represent our interests."

"The Speaker sent you?"

"Speaker Apteen outlined a number of tasks for the Jedi but the Council assigned me here where I can facilitate operations on the Republic's behalf."

Celeste nods.

"Before you move on to Etti IV, you must stay with us this evening. I insist."

"You are most gracious, Lady Masterton."

"Kylie will make up a room for you."

Garron smirks.

Kylie and Nevylinn exchange glances before the former leaves the room. Voices can be heard coming down the hall.

Celeste smiles.

"That will be the children getting home from school."

Dahlia, Dane and Gemma bound onto the scene but are startled by the presence of someone new. Gemma lights right up.

"Jedi Nevylinn!"

"Yes," Celeste says. "She will be staying with us before conducting business on Etti IV."

Dane makes a face. He briefly considers she may still be pissed about being stranded on Naboo then remembers he doesn't care.

Dahlia narrows her eyes. A Jedi? Here?

Gemma rushes forward and hugs Nevylinn.

"I'm so happy to see you!"

"I am too, Gemma. How have you all bee adjusting?"

"We're good," Gemma says proudly. "We got back just in time for school to start but there was a lot of make-up work that we missed at the end of last term."

"Which you all completed promptly. We are thankful the ordeal did not set them back too terribly much. Valor Prep is a rather intensive learning environment."

"Speaking of," Dahlia interrupts. "We have homework."

Dane waves and follows Dahlia out of the room.

Nevylinn watches Dahlia leave with Master Agnant's words lingering in her head. On the staircase, Dane is vibrating with hostility.

"Hey, bro. What's your prob?"

"She is so annoying."

"The Jedi?"

"Yeah," he grumbles. "She's the one who took us off The Wheel and don't call me bro. We're not even related."

They hadn't really had a chance to discuss things since they had been back. Dane had been reclusive and aggressive since they returned. The school counselor said it was part of his coping mechanism as he processed the trauma. Dahlia thinks its wildly amusing.
 
"True, not biologically."

"Not at all."

"That bothers you?"

"Whatever," he says, rounding the corner at the top of the stairs. "It doesn't matter."

"Clearly it does."

"No, it doesn't and as long as the Jedi doesn't make us do those stupid exercises and meditations again I'll be fine."

Dahlia stops, "Wait, what exercises and meditations?"

"You know, Force stuff. Stuff I can't do but Gemma can. It was always about her anyway."

"Why do you say that?"

"Because it's true. She has powers just like you do but here's a newsflash, Dahl. No one cares."

Dane slaps the control as he enters his room and the door hisses shut behind him. Dahlia turns, eyes lowered. This was certainly news to her. She knew Dane and Gemma were relocated for safety reasons prior to the attack at The Wheel but assumed they had laid low with some rigid Espos agent while she was being tortured by Adubell. The adults had not discussed any of the specifics in front of them in fear it would further traumatize them. Now it seems there is much more to the story. But how much more?

Maybe it's time she found out how Gemma spent her summer.



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

Later that evening, Dahlia pads down the hall and taps on Gemma's door. She hears a voice faintly from the other side. She enters to find Gemma in her nightgown, brushing through her long, blonde hair.

"Hi, Gemma."

"Dahlia," she says, turning on the vanity stool. "What are you up to?"

She shifts into a casual tone.

"Nothing much. I was just checking in, seeing how you are doing."

"I'm good, maybe a little sleepy."

"There was quite a bit of excitement today what with the Jedi coming to visit. I always assumed you and Dane got stuck with one of dad's boring agents after you left The Wheel."

"Garron and the Espos agents stayed to look after dad. Nevylinn took us somewhere safe while the others decided how to go back for you. I'm so sorry, Dahlia."

"For what?"

"That they couldn't get to you when they got me, Dane and Riley out."

"I managed," Dahlia says evenly.

"You shouldn't have had to."

She moves to the side of the bed.

"That's sweet but it all worked out in the end. Where did the Jedi take you?"

"To mother's Estate on Naboo. It's by the lake and so very beautiful."

"I've seen pictures. What did you guys do there?"

Gemma sets the brush down and stares into the mirror. Dahlia is watching her very closely.

"Well, we were upset and scared. Nevylinn taught us some exercises to calm ourselves down. Dane wasn't having it at all and behaved like a real jerk."

"What kind of exercises?"

"Deep breathing and meditation. Simple things to help keep my thoughts and fears off you and dad and everything else that was going on."

Dahlia narrows her gaze.

"Did she teach you anything else?"

"No," Gemma answers with a sincerity that surprises her. "After Dane stole the shuttle we decided to make the best of things. We took a lot of walks, played games and read some of the classics mom had lying around. It was nice. Why do you ask?"

"I'm just curious. You are special, Gemma."

"So are you."

Dahlia steps forward and wraps a blonde curl around her finger.

"Sleep well, sister."

"Goodnight, Dahlia."

And then she is gone. Gemma sighs as Nevylinn emerges from the closet.

"That was curious, don't you think?"

"Both she and Dane have been acting strangely since we've been back."

"Now you see why you must keep your abilities hidden. There is concern that something stirs in the Corporate Sector which is why they sent me here. I am to watch over you while maintaining a presence to represent Republic interests in Mondder."

"You think something is wrong with Dahlia?"

"The Jedi believe something may have happened to her on Korriban. It has been suggested that you, Dane and Riley were meant to be rescued and Dahlia left behind. We do not know the extent of what the Sith did to her which is why you must be extremely mindful."

"I've kept up on my studies and practice. I grow stronger each day."

"And no one knows of these abilities you have?"

Gemma frowns, "Only one."

"Who?"

"Kylie. She saw me with Melanie's saber when I first got back."

Nevylinn inhales, considering this.

"That explains her demeanor toward me. Is this a secret you believe she will keep?"

"I think so. Kylie has known us since we were infants. She's like family and she is very protective of us. She knows the history, the stories and the danger. She doesn't want anything to happen to us."

"I am glad to hear it but until we know the extent of Dahlia's experience with the Sith, it would be wise to limit your exposure."

Gemma nods, "Of course, Master Nevylinn. I won't let it happen again."

"I must travel to Etti IV in the morning but we will be in touch. You have the com I gave you?"

Gemma extends a hand, calling the device to her palm.

Nevylinn smiles.

"You have grown strong, young Masterton. Your connection to the Force runs deep. Sleep now and we will speak again soon."

As she slips silently from the room, Gemma takes comfort in the Jedi's praise. She had worked hard to grow in her abilities but it had been difficult to keep it all hidden from those she loves. As much as she wants to confess to Alka or Preston, she knows it may put them at risk. So she carries on alone. As she curls up on in bed, drifting off toward sleep, her mind cannot help but recall Nevylinn's words about Dahlia. If she was never meant to be rescued, what did they do to her and why?



-TBC

[Medivh]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

"She's lying, isn't she?"

D'Cera was pacing in the cavernous space of the old tree, the hovering image of the sith from the holocron giving an almost arrogant smile.

"What do you think?"

"I think of course she is - but I wanted to confirm it with you"

"And how am I supposed to do that, Darth D'Cera?  I am not omnipotent.  I am just a memory.  It is your own observations you must use to determine the truth.  Your adopted sister was with a jedi for months.  Do you believe all she learned was meditation?"

D'Cera stopped pacing turning to face him.

"No"

"So the question is not whether she was telling the truth - the question is, why was she lying to you.  And more importantly, how much is she hiding from you."

That thought made D'Cera take pause.

"If she was lying, it's because she doesn't trust me"
"astute"
"Could she know that I have become a sith?"

"It's possible - but how?  Unless you gave it away"
"No - I've been careful.  But perhaps I need to be more careful.  And keep a closer eye on that sister of mine."
"And her jedi friend"

D'Cera nodded - Nevylinn's presence here was a nuisance, and possibly a danger.  She had a social ladder to climb at school, and other pieces to move into place.  Dealing with jedi now, this early in the game was a complication, to be sure.  But If she had learned anything while on Korriban, it was adaptability.  And she would.  For now, though, she still had to learn about the past.

"Show me the next piece of the story."

The tree faded to the tale from the past ...

***********
300 years ago ...
Jedi Imri was standing at a window of the clinic, looking out at the night sky of Coruscant, watching the entranceway carefully.  His voice was firmly set, but he allowed himself a smile as he saw Darryl and Persephone Winton making their way up the path.

Imri stepped away from the window, heading to the door and opening it just before the couple had reached it.

A bit surprised, the two stopped suddenly.

"how did you know we were coming"

Imri smiled

"I could say it was the Force - but truth is, I was waiting by the window.  Please come in"

They stepped inside and Imri led the couple down a cooridor toward an examination room.  The two were holding each other's hands, glancing about.

"It's quiet"

"The clinic doesn't have a lot of night time patients.  You two are special"
"How is that"

Imri paused a moment before answering.

"Because you are helping me too.  And there are some who don't like the idea of the jedi helping in the way I am."
"oh"

They reached the room and Imri had Persephone get on the examination table.

"Now, we did the procedure last time, but this is a follow up.  If things went the way we hope, I'm just going to repeat the steps, to make sure any fetus is viable, strong.  If not, we'll arrange for another session to try again"

Persephone lifted her shirt away from her stomach, and Imri placed a hand just beneath her naval, Darryl holding Persephone's hand.  Imri closed his eyes, a look of concentration on his face.  Darryl and Persephone watched him, expectantly, anxiously, as sweat began to roll down his face.

It was several minutes like this before Imri finally opened his eyes, a triumphant look on his face.

"Well?"
"Well, Darryl, Persephone - I have unexpected but good news for you.  You aren't having one baby.  Not JUST one baby, that is"

Persephone's voice had trepidation and curiosity as she spoke
"What do you mean"

"You are having four."

TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Concordia Township

Dahlia stares at herself in the large, oval vanity mirror in her bedroom. She dabs a bit of crimson lipstick and makes a face. The family is being forced to attend the Annual Atrii Fundraiser and while the Atrii Estate is by far the most grand and on the outskirts of Concordia, none of the children are thrilled about it.

Dane threw a giant fit which finally caused Rutherford to haul him by the arm into his room for a stern talking to. The kid had been increasingly defiant and the excuse of the kidnapping and trauma was wearing mighty thin. They had made allowances for all of them but Dane is the only one who had yet to settle into a more traditional routine. He was sullen, snarky and prone to bouts of extreme apathy when even the smallest request was made. Normally, Celeste would attribute this to the burgeoning quest for identity in the early stages of adolescence but even she grew weary of the spectacle.

Gemma's behavior is perfectly polite and she acquiesces without as much as a whimper or whine. Kylie helps her into a simple, white dress but seldom makes eye contact. She feels that she may make Kylie nervous given what she knows but Gemma isn't about to cause a scene before a party. Dane was doing enough of that as it is.

Dahlia is not in the mood for casual banter as she views all the parents and executives as nothing more than socially acceptable monsters. They tear each other to pieces on Etti IV then return to D'ian where they grin and complement one another in expensively tailored suits and evening gowns. The charade must be exhausting but Dahlia considers it practice. It is a skill she would also need to master as she moves forward with her plan. Besides, she is curious to see how the upper echelon of society would react to her presence now that they know who she really is. To add fuel to the fire, Dahlia returned to the Winton cruiser on a landing pad behind the Gellar Estate and rifled through the closets of Karen's wardrobe. There are over two million credits worth of vintage Raga'Ana couture carefully pressed and hung on racks. She is a little young for some of the designs but she finds a tight, black and gold beaded mini dress that is sure to spark more than just a few conversations. She pairs the dress with simple, strappy black heels and gold hoop earrings. Her crimson hair is pulled back and pinned with several loose tendrils. The makeup is shimmering with smokey undertones and a matte finish. The gold and black above her lids make her emerald eyes vibrant and predatory.

It is exactly the look she is going for.

She joins her family at the bottom of the stairs. Dane stands next to Rutherford, both in tails. Celeste wears a pale blue, floor length gown with a white fur wrap around her shoulders. Her blond hair is pulled back tight into a perfect bun. Gemma looks like a dainty school girl as Kylie helps her into a fitted white trench coat. Garron is out near the hoverlimo as the family descends the steps. Rutherford helps Celeste in then Dane and Gemma. He appraises Dahlia skeptically.

"You don't think that's a bit…risqué?"

"For who?"

"A fourteen year old girl."

She shrugs.

"If children are supposed to be seen and not heard, then why not been seen in something fabulous?"

"Can't argue that, princess."

She curtsies and he grins. Despite his trepidations, she always did have a sense of humor that amused him to no end. Yet he cannot get the conversation he and Nevylinn had out of his head. It weighed on him heavily but he had yet to see proof even though the Jedi suggested he didn't need to see something he knew was true.

Garron holds the door for him.

"Have fun tonight."

"We will," he says, sliding into the limo. "We shouldn't be back too late, depending on the weather."

"Take your time. We'll be fine here."

He nods and the door closes. The hoverlimo idles momentarily before racing off down the long, stone drive. Garron watches the red tail lights grow smaller and fade into the distance as Kylie stops at the bottom of the steps. She pulls her shawl tighter around her.

"Let's go then. It's freezing out here."

Garron scoffs, turning to follow her back up the steps.

"Aren't we bossy today?"

"Like it matters to you."

"It does," he says once they are inside and moving through the foyer. "You've been edgy lately and borderline inhospitable. That's not like you at all."

Kylie groans, "I always did love your little lectures."

He stops her in front of the main staircase.

"I'm not lecturing, I'm just concerned. We've all be through a lot but if something is bothering you I want you to tell me. You and I run this household so we need to be on the same page."

"Who says we aren't?"

"I do."

"You're wrong."

"Am I? Then why are you suddenly so distant? Is it something your Imperial beau did? Forgive me if I'm not completely shocked. And before you get outraged and tell me to mind my own business, I'm not going there. I've never seen you this cold before. Lord Gellar and Lady Masterton may be too preoccupied to see it but surely you realize the children must. They rely on you, Kylie."

"They are more resourceful than you realize."

Garron draws back, narrowing his eyes.

"What do you mean?"

Kylie's face is slack and serious.

"I think the children may have learned a little more than how to pass the time."



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D’ian: Surface: Concordia Township: Atrii Estate

The hoverlimo approaches the high gates of the Atrii Estate that begin to open when the driver verifies their identity and invitation. They travel several kilometers up through a dense forest road until they come to a clearing in which the Estate appears. It is brightly lit and decorated as a heavy snow begins to fall, slow and silent. Rutherford exits the limo first and helps Celeste out. Once the children are situated, they head as a collective up the steps and are granted access by two well-dressed but heavily armed security agents. With all of the dignitaries and officials present tonight, the Espos would be out in full force.

The family moves through the foyer and onto a carpeted landing above the massive ballroom where everyone has gathered. The ritzy crowd is dressed to the nines, holding glasses of champagne and conversing amongst small groups. It is the grown up version of high school, cliques and clans, all for a good cause. Dahlia steps between her parents and stands front and center, a move that catches more than just a few glances. Conversation throughout the room falters momentarily as all eyes turn in a singular direction. Dahlia purses her lips and sets her steely gaze over the crowd. It goes over about as well as one would expect and exactly as she hoped.

A Winton among them.

Murmurs follow the silence and Rutherford takes the lead with Celeste on his arm. Gemma is on one side and Dane, who rolls his eyes like this is the worst possible thing he could ever be doing, is on the other. Dahlia sashays her way behind them. There is admiration in the way Rutherford and Celeste allow these stares to deflect off them without so much as a frown. They will be a united front as a family for the sake of their children – at least that is what they believe in their minds. It’s noble if not somewhat naïve. Celeste waves at Miranda Aguilar and they begin to veer off as if on auto-pilot. It will be a lot of forced grinning and polite but clipped conversation for a while and the children mostly perform as expected. It is over relatively quickly and they are released to their peers, relegated to another part of the estate.

Dahlia weaves methodically through the crowd, watching the bewildered and frightened expressions cease the features of the CSA elite. She does have to wonder what they are thinking; she can read them like articles on a datapad. So obvious, so trite. They think she is beautiful, dangerous, evil, and suspicious. The things they think about Rutherford and Celeste are worse, like they had been harboring a fugitive or killer for all these years. Some radiate with pity and others curiosity. Either way, she has made the impression she needed to.

Gemma practically has to drag an apathetic Dane with her. He only livens up when he sees Roman standing near Kier in the next room. She lets go of his arm and finds Alka and Preston at a table with plates of small snacks. Dahlia walks boldly up to Trichelle who looks as if she is holding Muriel hostage in a conversation. She turns, glancing over Dahlia.

"Love the dress," Trichelle says. "No, seriously. I love it."

"I believe you. It's.."

"..a Raga'Ana. Vintage couture. Part of your sister's collection, no doubt. It's stunning, Dahlia. People are still staring."

Dahlia smirks, "I'm sorry, are we friends now?"

"For tonight at least."

Muriel forces a smile, "You do look lovely."

"Thank you. So do you. One of your mother's?"

She nods, "From the set of The Coruscant That Was."

"Steamy."

Trichelle wastes no time shifting topics.

"You're parents, excuse me, you're adoptive parents are certainly going to take some heat over your presence tonight. The Winton thing is kind of a touchy subject."

"It's called generating a buzz."

"A buzz for what?"

Dahlia shrugs, batting her eyes.

"You'll see."

Tobias appears, holding two glasses of champagne. He hands one to Muriel.

"Where did you get those? I want one."

"So get one," Tobias says. "It's not like anyone is paying attention. They are here to be seen and throw credits around."

Trichelle excuses herself.

Dahlia tilts her head.

"So, you're drinking now? That's new."

Muriel laughs nervously; clutching the stem of the glass like it might float away.

"You were gone so long…I just…it's nothing."

"Relax, Dahlia. It's a party."

That's when she feels it. There are no exact words for the feeling but it encompasses almost all of the senses. She turns, glancing back over her shoulder to find a rigid looking Gemma staring in the same direction. She narrows her eyes. Breathing exercises and meditations, my ass. She knows what the feeling means. It means there is another Force sensitive here tonight. Probably more than one but only one that registers with any intensity. She cannot place it exactly but it's coming from within the estate. The crowd in this room is mostly peers, some a little older or younger but before she can really seek it out; it fades into the white noise of the chatter.

Trichelle returns with a glass of champagne and Kier. He looks at Dahlia longingly yet with guilt in his eyes. The revelation of her identity makes her even more attractive to him. There is a danger there and he doesn't quite know what that means. It is electric and primal and Trichelle glances menacingly between them. Behind them, Dane is excitedly talking with Roman but Roman's eyes wander across the room to Preston as he leans against the far wall in his tailored tux and melancholy expression. Alka takes his arm as Gemma slips away, around the corner and down the hall. She follows the feeling, faint as it may be, up the stairs and across a long set of corridors. She comes to a door and raps lightly as she enters.

Demaris Atrii kneels on the floor in her sea-foam frilly party dress, hands outstretched and open, looking up at Gemma standing there. She recognizes the meditation from the pose and the connection through which it serves to achieve. Demaris gasps, standing quickly, unsure of what to do.

"I just needed to get away. Clear my head."

"It's okay," Gemma says softly.

"Is it?"

"Yes but we have to go now."

Demaris frowns, "Why?"

"Because not everyone will understand."

"What do you…?"

"Now, we have to go now," Gemma chirps, grabbing her hand and pulling her out of the room. Despite the fact that Gemma is a year younger, Demaris trusts what she says and begins to run without a real explanation. They round the corner and dart across another corridor. Demaris stops, her voice a hushed whisper.

"This way!"

She touches a panel on the wall which causes a section to slide open. The girls disappear down the stairs as the wall closes behind them. Dahlia rounds the corner, sensing something but seeing nothing. She had noticed Gemma's absence but no one seemed to have seen her leave. She follows the signature she has known her whole life which led her here, close to where the other signature had been. She returns to the party to find Gemma standing with Alka and Preston, just as she had been. That sneaky little bitch.

Trichelle is talking with Demaris. Kier is zoning out. Tobias whispers something in Muriel's ear.

Dahlia squares her shoulders and joins in the conversation.



-TBC

[Syren]

"Red alert! Red alert! It's a catastrophe
But don't worry, don't panic
Ain't nothin' goin' on but history, yeah
It's alright, don't panic."

 -Basement Jaxx

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

The murky outlines of a living room come into focus and a woman in a tight black dress and heels walks through it. Everything is slowed, distorted. The woman pauses in front of a mirror and leans forward to fasten an earring and her face becomes recognizable as that of Valerie Gellar. She pushes dark hair over her shoulder and turns, a cool smirk pulling lightly at the corners of her maroon stained lips.

"I'm never really gone, am I?"

Several other women enter the room, striding across the scene in a variety of outfits – an agent, a diplomat, a mechanic, and so on. They all hold a long wand attached to a mask of Valerie's face in front of their own. They take positions around the room and pose each with a different hair color and style.

"Like a god," Valerie says without a trace of irony. "So many created in my image."

Riley appears on the periphery, moving between each of the women who grasp and claw at him. He seems confused, interacting with each as though he knows them before walking to the next. He stops in front of Valerie and turns to stare straight ahead as she places a hand down over his chest.

The women laugh simultaneously but it sounds hollow, almost mechanical, as they tilt their masks to the side. A grid of circuitry sparks and flashes where their faces should be, their laughter turning into a high pitched multi-tonal shriek. Valerie's face melts off the bone along with the rest of her flesh leaving nothing but the dress hanging from the skeleton. Riley's hand moves up, fingers curling around her radius as he looks on, frightened and distraught. The shrieking fades as the women replace the masks and Valerie's mandible begins to move, her voice thick and slow.

"Did you really think he would be safe with her?"

*

Gemma's eyes pop open. She shutters deeply, tangled in the sheets and covered in a layer of sweat. She tries to swallow but finds her throat is dry and her tongue heavy. Her heart pounds in her chest and it takes several minutes of careful breathing and meditation to calm herself down. The images linger in the forefront of her mind along with what would appear to be another warning. She had warned her father of Riley's predicament once before…too late. Melanie's words reverberate past the mysterious symbolism.

"An enemy with the face of a fallen friend."

Valerie's face.

Mara's face.

The face of those who held them hostage.

How many of them could there possibly be? How many did they see bringing them food and water? They were dressed exactly the same. For all they knew it could have been the same one. Or meant to look that way.

Gemma is frantic yet cautious. She tries to remember the details of the nightmare, attempting to wade through the pieces that could tell her exactly what to look for. Her dreams have always been vivid yet vague. Not everything was immediately apparent nor was she experienced enough to spot all the clues. She considers calling Nevylinn but it would only serve to compound the issue and raise more questions she didn't have answers to. She remembers her training and eases herself back into bed. She would need to process what she had seen in order to be concise. Calling Riley would only scare him and could risk sounding crazy. She knows he is safe on Corellia with Mara under the watchful eye of CorSec.

But how safe?


-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

The fight started over dinner. Celeste's innocuous questions about their days had been met with yet another round of Dane's hostility. Rutherford had had enough and bellowed his protests to this behavior across the massive table. Dane erupts, screaming at his parents to leave him alone as he storms from the room. Gemma looks mortified but Dahlia watches with a growing amusement. Celeste and Rutherford are at the ends of their rope with him and, ever the performer, Dahlia offers to help.

"Let me talk to him."

She excuses herself from the table and saunters through the house and up the stairs. Her mind had been divergent as of late. On one hand, her family and social life needed careful attention. On the other, the holocron's revelations continue to amaze. Persephone. So, that's where the story began. She wonders if her predecessors had been smart enough to look for answers but then again, they would have had to know which questions to ask.

At Dane's door, she raps lightly.

"Go away!" he shouts from inside.

Dahlia ignores him and enters, waiting until the door closes behind her.

"You are a real pain in the ass, you know that?"

He sits up on his bed, glaring with a malice and rage that delights her every sense.

"What part of 'go away' don’t you understand? I'm not in the mood for you and your stupid crap right now. Save it for someone who cares!"

"Oh yeah? Tough. We're talking so deal with it."

He hops off the bed and attempts to move past her.

"Fine, I'll just go somewhere else then-"

She gives him a light tap which, aided by the Force, and sends him sailing back onto the bed. He crashes in a heap of surprise and alarm.

"I said deal. Now sit still and listen."

Dane tries to collect himself, having just been manhandled by a girl.

"What do you want?"

"Your anger is misplaced, Dane. It's not gaining you any ground. You have obtained no leverage with it. All you continue to do is dig your own hole deeper and unless you want them to yank you out of Valor Prep and send you to the Espos Academy or worse, an institution, you will listen closely."

"Like I want advice from you," Dane snarls. "You are a Winton."

Dahlia smirks.

"Is that what this is about? The real me? That's funny because you used to think I was so interesting before."

"I used to think a lot of things."

"Tell me about it," she says casually. "Everything is different now. The important part is what we choose to do with it."

"With what?"

"Our talents."

He laughs.

"I don't have talents like you or Gemma. Unlike some people, I don’t come from a line of Force-wielding maniacs."

"No but you do come from a line of leaders and corporate titans. The Gellar's are resourceful, powerful. They are inventive, devious and clever. You don't give yourself enough credit, Dane and you don't need the Force to be special."

"That's what Valerie said."

The instant he says it, he regrets it but it's out there. He clenches his jaw and tries to avert Dahlia's now very curious stare.
 
"Valerie? What does she have to do with anything?"

"Nothing."

"Do you see her, Dane?"

"Shut up."

"Does she appear to you? Tell me."

"No."

"I see Karen sometimes. She appeared to me after we were kidnapped. She showed me things…on Coruscant."

"Coruscant was destroyed."

"You are missing the point. They appear to us to impart knowledge, things they knew from the past that can help us in the present."

Dane recalls everything Valerie had ever told him, back on Corellia and here on D'ian. The pieces of their lives fill in the gaps between what he thinks he knows. The breakthrough to clarity is overwhelming.

"My family was manipulated by the Winton's, betrayed by the Patten's and seduced by the Masterton's."

"So they were. That makes you angry?"

"Very."

Dahlia nods.

"It should but acting out in such a way will not yield the results you seek."

"How do you know what I want?"

"I don't," she says. "I'm only here to offer my assistance to get it once you've figured it out."

"Like I would trust you."

"Entirely up to you but take note how the parents aren't breathing down my neck. It's called tact, Dane. You don't have it. You have raw, unbridled rage which isn't useful in this case. A shuttle all revved up but stuck in park isn't going anywhere. Your outbursts are just pushing them closer to the edge. Think about that. Are you ready for what happens when you finally push them over?"

The options present themselves and none are ideal.

"I don't want that."

"Then you have to be smart about it. Suck it up and bide your time. We're part of a legacy, Dane. Our names hold weight. They open doors. Imagine the possibilities if we play our cards just right. If we own who we are then there will be no one to stop us from getting whatever we want. I can help you."

"Why would you do that?"

Dahlia shrugs, "Just because we're not family doesn't mean we can't be allies."

"Allies," he says, considering it. "What's in it for you?"

"It's in my best interest."

"I'm sure that's what your father said."

"Ouch," she says. "I like it."

They both laugh.

"You're evil."

"So are you. I just wear it better. Now are you with me or not?"

"Fine."

"Good. Now, let's go back downstairs and apologize. It will be the start of your public healing process."

Dane slides off the bed and walks to the door. Dahlia follows and she could not be prouder. The kids got real potential. Gemma may be secretive and self-righteous but that doesn't hold a candle to the combined powers of their deception. Rutherford and Celeste will be so thrilled at the turnaround. They will have their perfect family back from the brink of disaster.
 
That delusion leaves plenty of room for her plans.



-TBC

[Syren]

"What lies beyond the fringe of the woods?"



http://youtu.be/bRazgMj_cfE

[Medivh]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

Dane being her ally was certainly key to future plans.  Needless to say, he would not be privy to everything, but he would be extremely useful when the time came at controlling the Corporate Sector, while she took hold of the Republic and the Empire.  Whether Dane would be a puppet or given the respect as a conspirator - that would depend on him, his competence, his ruthlessness, and whether D'Cera could keep him under control.

"You've done well, tonight, daughter"

D'Cera smirked as the image of her father appeared in the old hollow tree.

"I bet you've said that a lot to your daughters"

"Not as much - Alexia never accepted the compliment, and Karen never deserved it"

"So I'm like Alexia then?"
"Not quite so insane - be careful about that"

"You're one to talk about careful"
"I wasn't - I was clever enough until I grew too arrogant, then made a mistake. Now I'm dead"
"A lesson I'll take to heart"
"That - and be careful of the young Gellar.  They can be ruthless for you or against you."
"Noted"

Her father's image disappeared as D'Cera grabbed the holocron, activating the next chapter of the tale

***********
300 years ago ...

D'Cera heard the whisper, but the room she was in was dark.

"bound by blood ..."

She glanced around the room but couldn't find it's source.  Still her eyes slowly adjusted to the darkness, and she could see she was in a dormitory, with the jedi Imri sleeping.

The voice was his own, mumbling under his breath, sweat pouring down his face. 

"bound by blood ..."

At the same time, she heard another, similar whisper from behind her. She turned and found herself looking into another room, also dimmed.  Persephone Winton, noticeably pregnant was also sleeping, tossing and turning as the words escaped her lips.

"destiny ..."

She could hear them both, simultaneously, and then, as if their words condensed into a mist, she saw them, a pale grayish color of words hovering in the air between them.

And she could feel the weight of them, the words, spoken now in unison by these two people.

"Bound by blood, their destiny
Offspring of young Persephone
Found has been a power old
Never 'fore the secret told
Discovered by a jedi shunned
The ripples now have just begunned
FOUR won't see their mother's face
Separated by stars and space
FOUR names will be their own to take
and separate paths they each will make
The eldest boy shall keep the name
And  ruthlessly will rule the game
Daughter one will heal and save
And guard the light as one so brave
Daughter two will lack in trust
be strong and fierce with power lust
Daughter three, idealist dear
Will grow from love yet also fear.
These FOUR will span the galaxy
Till brought again to destiny
When Empire will burn to ground
The FOUR will be their tightest bound
Two of light and two of dark
the contrasts forever stark
Amidst betrayal, lies and death
Their names whispered on every breath
And whence the FOUR all die in vain
This truth will hold yet again:
 Master of darkness, rules beside
 Daughter of darkness, his deadly bride
 Eternity theirs, with one exception
 A child born of light's conception
Yet in their blood, there lies a key
to break free of this destiny
And darkness will consume the light
Defeat the enemies of night
Body's weakness, mortality
Will vanish with brutality
The light can end in triumph too
By breaking up the darkest two
And blotting out the evil name
So only memory recalls the same
Until one wins, the dark or light
Repeat, repeat eternal fight
Will shape the course of galaxy
A FOURsome they will always be
Bound by blood, their destiny
Offspring of young Persephone"

The words hovered in the air even as the rest of the scene disappeared back into the present and the hollow of the tree, and then they too vanished.

"What does it mean?"
"You've heard of the persephonea prophesy, yes?"
"Of course"

"That was just the tip of the iceberg - a prophesy for one time.  This is the original, the prophesy that spawned the one you know."
"But what does it mean?"
"you will learn soon enough"

TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Valor Prep

Alka Dawning arches back away from the barre to bourrée across the polished studio floor. She glides with an expertise of a ballerina twice her age and the instructors have all hailed her as the second coming in classical dance. There are rumors she has been mentioned by name within Olivette, the premiere company in the Corporate Sector. Their dance troupe is famous across the galaxy and many travel great distances just to see them perform. Acceptance into Olivette would mean great things for Alka, as if the pressure to succeed wasn't already intense. The Dawning's are highly competitive and are known for their tempers but Alka has always seemed to maintain a careful detachment from almost everything except her close friends.

Across the room, Gemma Masterton jots lyrics for a song onto her personal datapad. She is inspired by Alka's movements and pieces together verses to practice later on in the choir room. Everything had settled back into an eerily normal routine. Dane has calmed down considerably after his almost tearful apology in front of everyone a few nights before. He accepted the fact that he was not dealing with the kidnapping well which led him to lash out at the people closest to him. While Gemma was suspicious of these cleverly constructed phrases, their parents ate it up. Celeste, in particular, was thrilled with his progress and the emotional maturity he was showing by admitting his fears.

Gemma, for her own part, has been maintaining her double life. The nightly meditations keep her mind strong and she hones her fighting skills in the school fitness center. She is careful to ensure she is alone where as not to dispel her image as a delicate albeit intelligent flower. Dahlia seems less inquisitive and more distracted which is a relief since Gemma had been instructed to draw her attention away from the Force sensitive Demaris Atrii. There are plenty of things going on at Valor Prep to keep her busy. A few off-the-cuff remarks from Trichelle Corinthos and Dahlia was back on the snark-train to a typical teenage girl who appeared to put more effort into her outfits than her personal relationships. Gemma has her own selfish ways but those had been put in perspective by Nevylinn's teachings. It is difficult for her not to reach out to the Jedi Master knowing that she is so close.

Her mind drifts to Riley and the dream she had. She wonders if the woman Valerie spoke of was Mara Tacofer or one of the clones made to look like her. Either way, she is uncomfortable with the knowledge he may be in danger despite his rather secure location. Corellia would be difficult to infiltrate even though she knows darn well the Empire had done it in an attempt on Kimber Patten's life shortly before the Centerpoint Battle. She finds herself writing his name in a heart and feels silly, glancing around as if anyone would care. Alka continues her dancing, blissfully unaware. Gemma knows she cares for Dane but it's not like she would ever admit it. Why should she? Dane is a jerk.

They are all experiencing new emotions as they enter the throes of adolescence. Gemma tries to keep her focus. She stands and gathers her things, waving as she leaves the studio and moves out into the corridor.

She sings a few lyrics of a song she had sung long before their lives had changed so dramatically as she walks slowly through the halls. It takes on new meaning in the present.

"We drift deeper into the sound. Life goes on…"

Alka twirls across the studio in perfect form, poised and determined.

"We drift deeper."

Dane talks excitedly as he walks beside Roman. Dane nods to Gemma as they pass. Roman smiles but his eyes move beyond her to Preston as he puts something away in his locker. Preston smiles back. Dane rambles on, oblivious.

"Drift deeper."

Further down the hall, Ples Aguilar stands with Trichelle, Kier, and Demaris. Dahlia eyes Trichelle slyly as she wanders by with Muriel and Tobias. The tension is superficial yet palpable. So many avenues to navigate, angles to consider, webs to untangle and facades to manage.

"We drift deeper into the sound. Life goes on. We drift deeper into the sound. Feeling strong. So bring it on."

Gemma clutches her messenger bag and pushes open the doors at the end of the hall.

"Bring it on."



-TBC

[Medivh]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate


"The prophesy is about us, isn't it?"
"It's about you, your elder sisters, your father, the generations before you, the generations that will come after you."
"But I don't understand - the four come from DIFFERENT families, not the same family"
"So you were led to believe"
***********
300 years ago ...

Jedi Imri had been shaken by the dream, the words that had been haunting him, night after night now.  He knew it came from the Force, but didn't quite understand.  It frightened him, and excited him at the same time.

After night after night, he had almost committed it to memory, and had written the words down, studying them, trying to understand their meaning.  He was staring at the words now, when there was a loud, insistent banging on the door.

Startled from his thoughts, Imri quickly put the words of the prophesy in his pocket and made his way to the door, opening it to find Darryl Winton standing there.

"What have you done to my wife?"

Imri shook his head

"I don't understand"

"You told me you had done an experimental procedure to help her become pregnant - and we were overjoyed, if not overwhelmed when you told us how successful it had been.  But now she's having dreams. Over and over again.  Horrible nightmares about what's to become of the children.  So tell me now, WHAT did you do to her?"

The news that Persephone had been having the same dream, the same prophesy as him was a shock in itself, but also lent credence to his belief that it meant more than just random words.  He would have to study it even closer now, but at the moment, he had to deal with the irate over protective husband.

"I can assure you, Darryl, that I did nothing to harm Persephone, or the children.  Everything I did was completely safe"

"How dare you take me for a fool, Imri!"  Darryl pressed his way into the room, "You did something, and I'm not leaving here until you tell me what it was.  What is bound in the blood of my children, of my wife?"

Imri took a breath, frustrated at Darryl's insistence.  Should he say something? Nothing apparently was not satisfactory.

"I told you there was a special procedure I was performing, giving the embryos a special enzyme. I told you that before"
"You clearly didn't tell us everything"
"Please, let me finish - the enzyme is designed to make the embryos stronger, and able to do things other cannot. If it works. If it doesn't work, its harmless."
"And if it does work?  it's going to turn my children into what?  monsters?"

Imri was starting to grow annoyed.  Hadn't he given Darryl and his wife what they wanted? children? so what if there was an experiment - that was part of the deal.

"No, not monsters, just able to tap into greater potential"

"Potential? the dream is about them being scattered, about death, about horrible, horrible things.  That's not potential, that's madness"

"Please, Darryl, just listen to me"

"No!  No, I've had enough of listening to you.  I think I know why you were trying to keep this a secret now. It wasn't for us, it was for you.  And I'm not going to let you get away with this anymore."

Imri felt himself tensing up.

"What do you mean?"

"I'm not keeping your secret any longer.  I'm going to the jedi council, and I'm telling them what you've done"

Darryl turned and started to storm out.

"Wait!"

But he kept walking.  Imri watched him start to step out, watched as his chances of finishing the experiment were walking out with him.  And he reached out with his arm, grabbing Darryl Winton through the force by the scruff of his neck.

"Let go of me"
"No! Not until you agree to keep this quiet"
"Darryl struggled against Imri's hold, swinging his arms and his neck back and forth.

"Let go, Imri!"

Imri applied more pressure, holding on tighter.

"I cannot do that, Darryl"

Finally, there was a sickening snap sound and Darryl's held fell to the side, his struggle ceasing instantly, his body collapsing into Imri's hold.  As Imri released his hold, Darryl slumped to the floor in front of him, a trickle of blood coming out of his mouth.

"No ..."

Imri fell to the ground, checking Winton for signs of life, but to no avail. Darryl Winton was dead.

And Imri knew that his life as a jedi was over.

TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

The door chimes echo through the cavernous foyer on a sunny Saturday afternoon. Kylie Miranda finishes consulting with a service droid regarding the laundry schedule and moves toward the door. Leaving the last several com-calls from Vex unanswered, Kylie has thrown herself into her work. Her heart may tell her one thing but right now she is following her head. She is surprised to find the Jedi Nevylinn standing on the stone porch.

"Good afternoon, Miss Miranda."

"Well, it was."

"May I come in?"

Kylie moves aside as the Jedi passes, "I take it you are here to see Gemma."

"Why would you say that?"

"She's the only one home. Lord Gellar is still on Mondder. Lady Masterton had an emergency session with a client. Dahlia is seeing a movie with Muriel Monroe and Dane is at a team function with Roman Nash."

"I see. Is Gemma available?"

"That depends."

"On what?"

"On what you want with her."

Nevylinn regards her curiously, trying to get a read on the au pair's motives.

"I sense hostility from you, Miss Miranda."

"Do you?" Kylie counters, narrowing her eyes. "The Force must be working then."

"If you have something to say to me-"

"You think we wouldn't notice? The children came back different. Dane is much more aggressive and Dahlia, for all her charms, is incredibly secretive. But Gemma? She returned with a new set of skills, abilities she did not possess when she was taken. I saw her with the saber. I know what she is."

The Jedi does not mince words.

"Then you understand how important it is to be prepared for anything. The children were abducted from their home and I cannot imagine how terrifying that must have been. Therefore, precautions have been taken. Gemma is special."

"So was Melanie and she wound up dead."

"That is not what I want."

"Then what do you want?"

"I want her to be ready."

Kylie's lip trembles, "For what?"

"For whatever comes for them next."

Gemma appears at the top of the grand staircase and slowly descends.

"It's okay, Kylie. You don't have to worry."

"How can you say that? If anything else happened to you – any of you – I would be beside myself. Your parents nearly lost themselves when you were gone. I know why you would want to but Melanie gave herself to the Jedi in order to protect the others and failed. Almost everyone she knew and loved perished around her and that is not something I want for you."

"We can't escape who we are," Gemma says, reaching the landing. "The threats that came after The Four still exist. We have seen them. They have already succeeded once and we can't let that happen again."

Gemma reaches out and touches her arm.

"Please do not be afraid. This is what I want. I can keep us safe. All of us. Now we have to go, I need to train."

She nods, feeling a calm wash over her.

Nevylinn and Gemma walk back through the foyer and out the door. Kylie sighs, pulling herself together. Deep down she knows what Gemma's says is true. That is why she has not mentioned any of what she knows to anyone. A part of her resents the Jedi for exposing the young girl to dangers she would face just for being who she is. It is irrational and Kylie knows it. She cannot help but care. She has known the children since they were infants and they are family. She has clung tightly to the notion of their safety despite the fact that it had been shattered months ago when they were taken. Does their future security lie in Gemma's abilities? Perhaps she would succeed where Melanie failed. Kylie makes the command decision to trust in Gemma even if that includes the Jedi and goes on about her day.

Garron Prescott steps out of one the large archways, completely thrown.

"What. The. Fuck?"


-TBC