CC: Circle of Freedom

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril


Artemis sighed at his desk, reviewing the legislation in front of him.  More restrictions on force-sensitive users.  The registration act that he had been fighting since its passage some years ago had been reinforced with additional regulations and rules.  Force-sensitive individuals needed to register, were forbidden from government-controlled zones, needed to wear monitoring devices, could be denied service at any public establishment, could be barred from public or private transport, could be searched without warrant, could not congregate in groups ... the list of basic freedoms somehow seemed to be washed away when it came to these force users.

The rules were most strictly adhered to on Chandaar itself, but other worlds close to the republic capital had begun implementing and enforcing them as well.  Only the corellian sector was still resisting entirely, and he had heard from Corellia itself that more people were entering the sector seeking refugee status.

A new piece of legislation was insisting anyone who had any level of force sensitivity would be required to wear an armband, and apparently, there were calls for them to be rounded up to be tested - supposedly, to see if midi-chlorians could actually be removed from an individual.

Soldys could hardly believe how dark things had become, and perhaps even more shocking, how few seemed to find it problematic or anything more than a nuisance.

His thoughts were interrupted by a chime at the door, and Artemis looked up.
"Enter"

The door slid open and in stepped Speaker Gil Leeds, flanked by a half dozen senate security personnel.

Artemis stood from his seat, warily glancing at the officers.

"Mr. Speaker - what can I do for you?"

"I've come to inform you that there is legislation being proposed to the senate, seeking to impose sanctions on the Corellia Sector"

"Sanctions!  On what grounds!"

"Failure to comply with the Force User Registration Act.  I have it on good authority that none of the rules are being imposed on any world in the sector.  Do you deny those allegations?"

Artemis shook his head, angrily
"No sir - Corellians believe strongly in the basic freedoms of all people, and -"

Leeds put up a hand
"I'm familiar with your views, senator.  But let me be straight with you.  You are on the wrong side of history on this.  Force users have brought nothing but death and devastation on the galaxy.  They are responsible for countless deaths, even here in the New Republic.  I may be able to stop the sanctions.  But you are on notice.  Either Corellia comes into compliance, or its role in the republic will be in jeopardy.  As will your privileges to speak before the senate.  I hope I am making myself clear"

"I have a right as a senator to speak and to disagree"
"but you do not have the right to disobey the law.  We are watching you, senator.  Your position has protected you until now; it will not continue to do so.  You have been warned"

The speaker turned and departed, his guards following closely, leaving Artemis Soldys, Senator from Corellia, fuming at his desk.


TBC

[Syren]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

Director Laird Drakos replays the message again.

As furious as he is, there is vindication in the knowledge that he had been right about Corellia and Veritaas’ loyalties all along. They had been Jedi sympathizers opposed to the F.U.R.A. but he did not expect one of their own to turn on them. Drakos was able to trace the source of the message and found that it came from Doctor Tivoli Cross, the CorSec medical director. Perhaps she had discovered something she was not supposed to and did the right thing. She is to be commended, that is if Veritaas and his allies have not discovered and neutralized her. She could be a powerful witness in their case against them. They had been warned and now there is even more damning evidence of Corellia trying to undermine the authority of the Republic. Copying the file to his datapad, Drakos knows just where he is going with this.

Speaker Gil Leeds is not in the best of states but agrees to see him. Dark circles ring his intense brown eyes. There is something about this office and Drakos always feels angrier when he visits but that is likely a byproduct of the Speaker's demeanor. What else could it be?

Leeds barely looks up when he enters.

“What is it, Drakos?”

“I received something I think may be of interest to you.”

“Then I suggest you disclose it quickly as I am very busy.”

He nods, withdrawing his datapad and playing the message. The expression on Leeds’ face is difficult to read but his body visibly tightens with a slender vein along his temple flaring up. He speaks in a low, constrained tone.

“Where did this come from?”

“The CorSec medical director.”

He inhales sharply, rising from behind the desk.

“I wonder what Senator Soldys has to say about this.”

Drakos flashes a sinister smile.

“I was just thinking the same thing.”





-TBC

[Syren]

“It’s a perfect world
I’m the perfect girl.
You’re the nightmare
And I’m the dream.”

-Sevdaliza

Chandaar: Republic Capital 

Surface: Ambaril 

Quinn Cavanaugh strides into a bustling office building during the morning rush. She wears a short-sleeved navy shift dress, oversized sunglasses, and white ankle boots. She swings by a juice bar in the lobby and browses a few shops until her Carteris chronometer reads nine. The cams would be looping now. Tossing the drink in the trash, she moves with purpose to a set of public lockers to retrieve a large, black bag and a pair of matching white gloves before heading to the lifts. 

The ride is uneventful with the usual corporate types not-so-subtly glancing her over. Her face is expressionless behind those sunglasses. She is finally alone when the lift stops at an empty floor primed for construction that is slated to begin at the end of the week, at least according to documents filed with the Ambaril city planning commission. Quinn slings the bag over her shoulder and struts through the empty corridors, veering into a small office. She drops the bag and kneels, pulling it open to reveal her tools for the operation: plasma cutter and a deconstructed DLT-19 heavy blaster rifle.

She gets to work assembling the blaster components then retrieves the plasma cutter, eyeing the window overlooking an adjacent office building for the right positioning before carefully creating an opening. Sliding the sunglasses up on her head, she hefts the rifle and slips it through the hole. It takes her mere seconds to find the targets through the scope and, with a steady finger curling around the trigger, Quinn opens fire. 

*

With Janessa on the way back from conducting business in the Corporate Sector, Counselor Kaytt Corinthos resumes duties defending those impacted by the ruthless F.U.R.A. She threw herself back into some semblance of a routine, propelling herself forward in hopes of unraveling the mystery before it is too late. It helps that she has Senator Soldys on her side. The added details he provided only further fuels speculation that these individuals have been specifically placed for a purpose far darker than they seem. She needs to get a better read on Janessa before crafting a plan to plausibly take her out of play, for her sake and everyone else’s. 

She tries to clear her mind as she arrives at the offices of Solem, Lancing, Wray, and Corinthos for the quarterly briefing. As a partner, she is obligated to attend although her contemporaries have begun to question her commitment to the cause. She cannot really blame them. Kaytt has been slipping for a while. Still, despite diminishing returns, she knows they must fight on. It is surprising that the other partners had been so willing to offer pro bono services to some of the most vulnerable among them; individuals with elevated midi-chlorian levels marginalized by an increasingly authoritarian system. The firm had lost more than a few high-profile clients who sided with Speaker Leeds on this issue. She is proud of the work they have done even though the Republic seemed to take an almost gleeful approach to thwart them with policy at every turn. 

Grabbing a cup of caf on her way to the executive conference room, she nods at a few associates scurrying in. Avery Olomos is already inside, flashing a reassuring smile. Brennen Shaw enters behind her and takes a seat at the large conference table. The remaining senior partners, meeting Kaytt’s eye, call the meeting to order. Per the agenda, they begin with earnings as Linden Wray pulls up the holographic figures at the center of the table. He barely manages to finish the qualifying opening statements when the conference room erupts in blaster fire. 

The large windows behind them shatter with the concussive spray. 

Shaw is cut up through the back, projector and table in front of him destroyed, and a riddled Wray thrown back against the wall. The stunned silence lasts but a microsecond when the assault continues in full force. Kaytt pushes back from the table and throws herself on the ground. Blaster fire rips through the room, systematically taking down each member of the firm. Avery is screaming, staring at Brennen’s face frozen in surprise and crumpled onto a table that cannot take much more damage. Dust and debris hang in the air but does not provide nearly enough cover to conceal them entirely. Keeping low, Kaytt grabs Avery’s arm and hauls her toward the door. As if anticipating this, the fire is redirected, taking down the last two remaining associates scrambling along the far wall before coming after them.

They are completely exposed in the conference room and so they make a break for it.  

Three more shots ring out; two slicing through Avery’s hip and upper back and the third through Kaytt’s left shoulder. The force propels her into the corridor, crashing against the wall and hitting the ground next to Avery’s outstretched hand. She is not moving and steam rises from the blast wounds on her back. Kaytt's entire upper body is burning, vision swirling with colored waves as she clings to consciousness. Wincing, she manages to turn over and use her right arm to bring herself up into a crawling position. She makes it about a third of the way toward the reception area when Kaytt collapses into the blackness of pain. 

*

Quinn withdraws the weapon from the opening, disassembling it quickly and dropping it into the bag. She slides her sunglasses down and heads out. Tapping the call button for the lift, she slips off the gloves and tosses them into the bag as well. She zips it up and dumps everything in the adjacent trash chute as the lift doors hiss open and she steps inside. 

Hundreds of floors below, Quentin Swire catches the bag by its strap before it falls into the building compactor. He hauls it to his speeder and hops in, checking the datapad screen until Quinn is exactly in the same position in the lobby before resuming the cam feeds. The operation, ordered from Byss, was the first he had heard in a while. Quentin was sure they would have Quinn eliminate him but, as days turned into weeks, he began to wonder what the plan for him actually was. He was too distraught to make a run for it so he stayed and accepted whatever fate awaited him. 

This operation was another attempt to undermine the Republic from within. The firm has had strong and vocal opposition to the F.U.R.A. which drew criticism and backlash from both the public and political sectors. An attack on them would trigger the RSB to cover and Leeds to likely cry foul play but the reputational damage would be done. Many more would begin to see the lengths the Republic was willing to go to in order to eliminate the perceived threat from Force users. It is the ruthlessness that they are banking on to ease them ever closer to a galactic civil war, one that the Empire is well-positioned to save them from. 

Quentin pulls the speeder around the building as she descends the steps and slides in beside him. For a moment she stares ahead before looking around, confused. She does not have a clue. Never does, apparently. It is a terrifying blessing and curse but the switch makes her an extremely valuable Imperial asset. Quinn tugs on a strand of platinum blonde hair, frowning. 

“Where are we going?”

“Breakfast, remember?”

“Oh….right. Cool.”

Quentin slips on his own sunglasses and speeds off as the wail of sirens grows ever closer.







-TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

Artemis was trying his best to keep some semblance of control on everything that was spinning out.  Della was regularly sending him updates on the investigation on Corellia regarding the attack on the Director and the skiff explosion.  Here on Chandaar, he was fighting to keep sanctions on the Corellia from being brought to the senate floor, let alone passed.

It was not easy.  It should have been, but it wasn't, the idea that his sector could be punished for protecting individual rights would have been a ridiculous notion only a few years ago.  He remember fighting for Corellia to join the Republic; now he could barely remember why.

Artemis could feel it getting to him. He felt aged by this endeavor.  All his efforts, his sacrifices at war, his sacrificed personal life.  He pressed his palms down on his desk, letting it take some of his weight, closing his eyes and taking a breath.

The door opened.  No knock, no chime, it just opened, and in walked Director Laird Drakos himself, a smug look on his face as two other officers stepped into the room.

"Senator Soldys - I'm going to need you to come with us for questioning"
"On what basis?"
"you'll find out soon enough"

Drakos nodded to the security who began to make their way across the room.
"My rights say that I cannot be detained without probable cause.  Either you are arresting me, or I'm staying put"

Drakos shrugged "your rights are not what they once were.  You are coming with us, whether it's willingly ... or not"

Artemis watched as the two officers drew closer, their hands close to their holstered weapons.  He slid his hand across his desk to the side, fingering a small switch near the underside edge.

"Director Laird Drakos, of the Republic Security Bureau, I am Senator Artemis Soldys of Corellia, and I reject that you have any basis to detain me.  I invoke Republic Rule  2-47736: No citizen or senator may be detained without probable cause or without being informed of the charges.  The penalty for such violation of basic habeus laws includes fines in the millions, and a guaranteed termination from the law enforcement agency.  The rules also require that any detained individual, upon request, must be granted counsel, of their choice."

Drakos shook his head
"Your rules aren't going to protect you this time, Soldys.  But fine, I'll play along.  Senator Artemis Soldys.  You want a formal arrest?  You've got it.  You are hereby under arrest.  You are being charged with the following offenses:
one, failure to comply with the Force User Registration Act
two, active attempts to subvert the laws of the Republic
three, falsification of official government documents
four, fraudulent statements, made across multiple sectors
five, conspiracy to harbor fugitives
six, conspiracy to commit arson
seven, conspiracy to commit murder"

Drakos waived his arm, and the officers reached Soldys, each grabbing an arm firmly and tugging them behind him.  Soldys' muscles clenched but he did not resist - instead, just glaring at Drakos who was smirking again.

"Oh, and eight - treason against the Republic.  By the authority vested in the Republic Security Bureau, and as indicated in the Constitution of the New Republic, Amendment Sixty-Two, You are hereby stripped of your authority to speak or vote in the Senate, are hereby stripped of any diplomatic immunity, and will be held, without bond, until your trial."

Artemis' hands were cuffed behind him, and the officers led him out.

"How's that for your probable cause"

****

Artemis was taken to a small cell at the RSB headquarters, where he sat for several hours before finally a clerk came up to him.

"You wanted to call an attorney?"
Artemis nodded. He could have shouted or fought, but right now, he needed an ally on the outside, and he had to think clearly.  Plus, the clerk really wasn't to blame for all the hell that was occurring.
"I need to get in touch with Kyatt Corinthos, of the firm Solem, Lancing, Wray, and Corinthos"
The clerk tilted his head, an odd expression on his face.
"Um ... I don't think I can do that, sir"
"What? why not.  Ms. Corinthos is my attorney!"  Maybe Artemis would get angry at the clerk afterall.

"Um.  That firm - the one you just mentioned - they've been on the news all afternoon.  Someone shot up the firm.  All the lawyers in one room.  I think they said everyone, or almost everyone was ... well .. dead"


TBC

[Syren]

“Could tell you that I’ll find another way
This can’t be the price you pay
Tell you that I wanna stay.”

-Bob Moses

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

She wakes with a start.

Confusion sets in quickly. Her mouth is dry, tongue thick, and heavy. She does not know where she is but images of the attack flash across her mind, vividly replaying themselves over and over again. She knows she was wounded but that is where everything gets hazy. There is no pain, strangely enough, but she is too distraught to wonder why. With blurry vision, she catches a glimpse of something moving in the space near her. As it begins to clear, Kinsa comes into view.

“Oh Kaytt,” she says, gripping her hand. “I was so worried.

“Where…am I?”

“Ambaril General. They had to rush you into surgery but the doctors think you will make a full recovery. That is about as much as they would tell me.”

“The others?”

Kinsa glances down, face falling, and Kaytt nods slowly as a tear slides down her cheek.

“How did you even know I was here?”

“I am your ‘in case of emergency,’ remember? You changed it after…”

“Right,” Kaytt whispers bitterly. “After Trichelle died.”

“The things they are saying. Everything is a mess."

“What are they saying?”

Kinsa shifts onto the bed next to her, tucking a strand of blonde hair behind her ear.

“Well, the attack caused quite a stir on the Holo and in the Senate. The leading theory is that this was an attempt to silence your firm for the work you do but the conspiracy theorists most loyal to the Speaker claim it was the work of Force users trying to undermine him. I have never seen it like this before - everyone driven solely by politically tinged feelings that are not remotely supported by facts or logic. It is sheer madness. Neither side is willing to back down despite contrary evidence and frankly, it scares me. I am scared for you. For all of us.”

“Listen, you need to do something for me.”

“Anything.”

“I need you to find Selene Silvestri.”

“The disgraced Holo reporter? I thought she went into hiding.”

“You have connections, Kinsa. Use them. Selene broke this story before it took a darker turn then she was silenced and driven into exile because she saw the truth.”

“Of course, I will see what I can do.”

“Great, we will need her help….”

The door hisses open to reveal Director Laird Drakos who steps inside like a predator that has cornered its prey. Kaytt’s words trail off as her mouth tightens into a grimace of disgust. Once the door closes behind him, he approaches the bed, glancing over the screens monitoring her vitals and the bag of fluids with a slow drip of narcotics to numb the pain of her ruined shoulder. He sighs as if inconvenienced, shifting his gaze to Kinsa.

“I would like to speak to Counselor Corinthos in private.”

“I am not going anywhere.”

“Do not make me remove you, miss Cavanaugh. It will not be pleasant.”

“I am well aware of the RSB’s methods but I will be damned if I let you question my friend while she is sedated and recovering from surgery. Whatever you have to say, it can wait. She needs to rest.”

He smirks, “Compelling performance, as always but you should really stick to celebrity and leave the rest to the professionals.”

“My status does not preclude me from having informed opinions, Director. I am staying as her witness so you do not misrepresent anything that happens here.”

Kaytt is proud. She had taught her well. She is also grateful as Drakos is volatile and she does not know what he would do in an attempt to take advantage of the situation. Despite the danger, Kinsa must remain.

“Very well,” he concedes reluctantly, returning his attention to Kaytt. “I need to ask you a few questions.”

“Out with it already. Your forced bravado is not intimidating anyone.”

“What do you remember about the attack on your firm?”

She swallows, “We were there for the quarterly meeting when the entire board room was shot up.”

“Do you know where the attack came from?”

“I assume from one of the other surrounding towers. I did not see a shuttle or skiff outside the windows but I imagine that tracks with what you already know.”

“Did you happen to see anything else? Something that may lead us to a suspect?”

“I was a little busy trying to stay alive.”

“And you did live,” Drakos says in a tone she does not care for. “In fact, you were the sole survivor of the attack.”

“What are you implying, Director?”

“I am considering the coincidence. One of the most vocal opponents of the F.U.R.A. miraculously survives an attack that kills every other member of a firm representing potentially dangerous criminals that mean to undermine the law and order of this Republic. Some might say one of these criminals was not able to beat the system with your help and retaliated.”

“Conveniently proving their inherent danger? I think not, Director Drakos. I propose it is more probable that someone in law enforcement found us too great an obstacle for both narrative and policy and attempted to tactically eliminate the threat.”

“That is an outrageous allegation, Counselor!”

“Struck a nerve, did I? Perhaps you are not as certain in your theory as you would like to be so if I were you, I would do your goddamn job and investigate. Otherwise, unless you have something official, leave me in peace.”

He seems calmer than he would normally be in these circumstances, squaring his shoulders as a smile spreads across his face.

“You are awfully smug for someone with a client in lockup.”

Kaytt glares, “What are you talking about?”

“You must not have heard. I took Senator Soldys into custody earlier today.”

“On what charges?”

“Conspiracy and treason, among others. It is a shame you are incapacitated. With the amount of evidence against him, he will need someone in his corner.”

He steps closer, leaning over her face.

“And know this, Counselor Corinthos – if I find so much as a trace linking your activities to his I will be back here to arrest you regardless of your condition. You can heal just as well in custody. Do you understand me?”

“That is enough,” Kinsa gasps. “Get out!"

Drakos steps back toward the door but pauses briefly.

“As a person of interest in this case, we ask that you not leave the city. I have a feeling we will be seeing each other sooner rather than later. Enjoy your day, ladies."

Once he is gone, Kaytt breaks down. Kinsa is at her side, trying to console her even though she is way out of her depth. The sheltered bubble that she and other Republic elite have enjoyed to keep them out of the fray has burst and the reality laid bare is nothing like she imagined. The world has become a dark place and for the first time, she is not sure what her place in it is. After a while, the drugs take over and Kaytt eases back into the bed.

“What am I going to do?”

“Janessa arrives later this evening,” Kinsa says hopefully. “She will help us sort this out.”

With a sinking feeling that threatens to drown her, she knows that is likely not true. Kain compromised and the Senator arrested as she lies recovering from what increasingly feels like a hit. The intrepid reporter had found more than she bargained for and it cost Silvestri but Kaytt hopes to help break that story open even wider, exposing the Speaker and complicit RSB. Her mind wanders to Dane Gellar and their deal. He would be too high a risk for the RSB to eliminate in the Corporate Sector given the lucrative commerce between his company and the Republic. Still, she knows his suspicions are more than founded. The Senator’s arrest proves they are close to discovering the Republic’s true motives. She and Soldys have been fighting for so long across different fronts, trying to make a difference for those who believed in the dream that was the Republic. Now they face their own perils, ones she is not certain she can get them out of this time. Moves have been made and a terrifying certainty becomes clear.

There is always a price for the truth and she and Soldys are about to pay it.





-TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

It had been days since Artemis was arrested, held in a prison somewhere in an RSB facility.  Thankfully, due to his high profile, he couldn't be whisked away to a black-site, and though his cell was bare of any comforts, it was not torturous

At least not yet, he thought to himself.  He had spent much of his time trying to learn about the attack on Kyatt's firm.  Thankfully, the clerk's desk was positioned relatively near his cell. If he stood by the bars and craned his neck, he could see their television screen, which was almost always on.  The clerk himself didn't seem to take much interest in the vast conspiracy of his employers.  He got paid to make sure Artemis was fed, clean, and alive.


It was the television that told him that Kyatt Corinthos was alive in the hospital.  No reporters had been allowed in to see her, thanks to the hospital's rules, and the reporters filled in the gaps of their story with guessing and conspiracy theories - who attacked her firm, why, what did they plan next.

There was apparently no effort on the part of the government to protect her from future attacks, something that did not surprise Artemis in the least.

He also got to hear the news on his arrest, often narrated with the most unflattering picture the media could find of him, next to the charges.  Always, they referenced how he championed force users, including clips of speeches he had made on and off the senate floor, often taken out of context.  There was no word on when he would be facing trial, but Artemis guessed it was not going to happen soon.  They were probably still gathering so called evidence.  Plus, realistically, they just wanted him out of the way, for whatever it was they were planning next.

Finally though, the monotony  of his days in jail were broken, about a week into his stay.  Two men, clad in blue-gray uniforms appeared at the far side of the lockup, approaching the clerk.

"We are here to speak with the senator."

Artemis immediately recognized the two men, members of CorSec and part of his personal security detail here on Chandaar.  Jason Kalaf and Shawn Kumasar

The clerk, bored as ever, glanced up at them.
"I'm not authorized to allow any visitors"
"I'm his attorney. I have a right to speak with my client"

Artemis knew well enough that  Shawn was no attorney.  The closest legal training he had was a CorSec Academy course on criminal justice and legal rights.  Probably not enough to fool anyone under normal circumstances, but the clerk did not know or care enough at the moment to put up a fight.

"You can have five minutes"
"Thank you"

The two officers approached Artemis, who grasped their hands between the bars.
"I'm ok.  What have you heard?"
"Nothing yet sir.  Only that you were arrested.  What do you want us to do?"
Artemis nodded, glancing at the clock quickly.

"We don't have much time.  First, I want you to station around-the-clock security at Ambaril General.  Outside, and at Kyatt Corinthos' patient room.  I don't want anyone to get a second chance at her life.  Make sure she knows you are there, but make it clear to her that no matter how adamant she may be that she doesn't want or need the security, we are providing it anyways.  If she has a problem with that, she can take it up with me when she gets out."
"understood.  I'll make the arrangements"

Artemis looked away again.

"We also need to prepare.  I've put plans in place, in case of an eventuality like this.  I hoped it would never be necessary ...  but we need to activate the protocols for a final and complete evacuation of Chandaar."

"Sir, I'm not sure this is the right time for that.  Any evacuation of force users right now will look -"

Artemis interrupted him
"No.  Not an evacuation of force users.  An evacuation of Corellians"

"Sir?"

"Something terrible is happening. And it's going to happen soon.  We need to get every Corellian off of Chandaar and back into the sector.  As soon as possible."


TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

It was like a subtle murmur, whispered in crowds throughout Ambaril and the rest of Chandaar.   
Time to get out.  Before it was too late.

CorSec maintained records of Corellian visas, indicating which of the sector's residents had come to Chandaar and how long they intended to stay.  It was no small number.  The Corellian Sector had bustling trade throughout the Republic, and as the capital, Chandaar was the hub of much of that activity.

Even with all of the ongoing tension, business was business was business.  Not to mention there were exchange students attending university, artists traveling the galaxy, family, friends, tourists ... certainly no shortage of Corellians mixed in with the rest of the Republic's residents on Chandaar.  Senatory Soldys had warned of urgency and immediacy, but evacuation of hundreds of thousands of people is something that would take time.
Even more so if it was meant to not draw any attention.
In plainsclothes, CorSec traveled throughout the capital, dropping off small datapads to Corellian residents, with a single simple message:
"Corellia has determined that it is dangerous for all its citizens to be on Chandaar and recommends all citizens make plans to leave immediately.  If you have any difficulties making arrangements, please reach out to the Corellian consulate for assistance."

The messages were received with a mix of reactions, from panic, to incredulity, to somber acceptance.
To think, Corellia had fought so hard to be part of the Republic.  And now ... now no one was quite sure what was happening.  The messages were also deleted once read by their intended recipient.  The last thing CorSec wanted was to tip of RSB of the evacuation attempts.


Meanwhile, the presence of CorSec at Ambaril General was less subtle.  A full squad of uniformed officers were dispersed around the entrances to the building, another four officers stationed outside of Kyatt Corinthos' room.

They originally wanted an officer in the room as well, but Kyatt had been adamant that was not going to happen.  Being outside her door was the compromise.  Thankfully, she was healing well and expected to be discharged from the hospital soon.  She of course, was worried, as she had not yet heard back from Kinsa in her attempts to find Selene Silvestri.  Kyatt supposed she was glad to have the protection.  Or perhaps more importantly, witnesses in case Director Drakos showed up again.  As of yet, he had not, but his threat lingered.

Right now, she was more restless than anything, eager to be released and feel less hopeless.  Until then though, the best she could do was keep up with the news, depressing as it was.

And hope that the sky hadn't fallen before she got out of this hospital.

TBC

[Syren]

“There is no point in fighting
We’ve already crossed the line now
So inviting
I’ve already made up my mind.”

Eli & Fur

Chandaar: Republic Capital 

Surface: Ambaril

Counselor Kaytt Corinthos floats in and out. 

The bacta treatments are hell but necessary after the doctors reconstructed her shoulder. Facing down the RSB Director was not well-advised for her recovery and really took it out of her. Drakos deserved it and much more but she was not in any condition to cross-examine his claims from a hospital bed. CorSec agents appeared not long after informing her of their surveillance and protection, something she is far too weary to protest. Senator Soldys sent them and she appreciates the gesture given that she has little faith the RSB will properly investigate the attack or go out of their way to protect her. She did draw the line at their presence in her room for the sake of privacy but knowing they are right outside brings some measure of comfort. They quietly disclose the Senator’s activated protocols, a plan she fully supports in the current climate. Before she can raise the requisite concerns, they assured her they were taking the utmost precautions. 

While a litany of theories bombards her, despite the chemical fog, she knows she must focus on getting well enough to represent the Senator in his trial. As far as she knows, no date has been set which strikes her as odd when she considers the alternative – Soldys out of the Senate takes away their most vocal opponent of the F.U.R.A. With his defense sidelined, Kaytt can only imagine the kind of legislation they plan to ram through while he is locked up. The grief over the loss of so many at her firm is oppressive, flattening her against the crisp white sheets. She would avenge them as she would avenge Trichelle. She has not felt this focused in a while. 

Her thoughts drift to Dane Gellar and their arrangement. She wants the whole story from him about what really happened on Hesperidium but the prospect grows dimmer by the day. There is no way she can flesh out Janessa’s predicament or work out the Imperial angle in all this while confined to recovery and Soldys in custody. Instead, she sent Kinsa back out there to find the wayward Republic reporter while placing her in Janessa’s path. She debated whether or not to share her concerns over their friend’s mental state and motives but recognized that while Kinsa is stronger than she thinks she is, she has only recently become aware of just how nefarious the Republic has become. If she knew they suspect her of being controlled again, it might impact how she interacts with her and that could be dangerous. Then again, so might being around her in general. Kaytt would like to believe Janessa would not harm Kinsa but they do not yet know why she was sent back or what specific directives she may be operating on. That is perhaps what scares her the most. 

Drifting back toward a fitful slumber, she hopes Kinsa conjures up a miracle. 

*

After she initially visited Kaytt in the hospital, Kinsa went to meet Janessa after she returned from the Corporate Sector. She was hoping to find a trusted confidante and friend with whom she could share this alarming news but instead found Janessa oddly callous, even for her. It was as if the news of the attack did not surprise her at all. She chalked it up to the trip but it bothered her more than she cared for. 

After Circe’s death and Janessa’s trial, they all just sort of carried on. She never quite realized how dangerous the things her friends did and continue to do actually are. After escaping the Battle of Centerpoint and building a respectable career, Circe was killed for protesting the expulsion of the Jedi from the Republic capital. Janessa was manipulated into murder with several attempts made on her life yet she dutifully - if not scandalously - represents their business interests. Despite personal tragedy, Kaytt relentlessly fights for justice and she nearly lost her life for it. What had she done? Kinsa leveraged her looks and family wealth into becoming a premiere Republic socialite-turned-serious actress. It was fun and rewarding but not exactly the same kind of crusades her contemporaries seem to be waging in their own ways. She had been insulated amongst the elite and the guilt of feeling useless while the Republic falls apart around her weighs heavily on her shoulders. Thankfully, she got a clue and a chance to prove herself through Kaytt’s request. 

Kinsa reaches out to the most connected people she knows, spending days on the com chasing down leads until finally landing a contact who knows a guy. They always know a guy. The guy in question would not speak over the com but agrees to meet at the grand pavilion in the center of Ambaril. She slips on a pair of giant sunglasses with a high collared jacket and heads out. This is a part she knows how to play. Shivering in the morning chill, Kinsa weaves through the rows of trees and down into the center of the pavilion. She sits on the bench as instructed and watches the morning bustle of the crowds heading to work for the day. Although all appears normal on the surface, she cannot help but confront the suspicious stolen glances between citizens against the backdrop of a seemingly ever-present RSB patrol siren. The nervous energy is palpable and she is so engrossed in thought that she does not realize someone has taken a seat at the other end of the bench. 

“Enjoying your morning?”

She turns, startled, “Oh, yes. It is going to be a beautiful day.”

“That depends on how you look at it but, judging by the expression on your face, I would venture to guess things are not as beautiful as you once thought they were.”

“An understatement, to be sure. I may have taken the scenic route but alas, here I am. Thank you for meeting with me.”

He wears a heavy coat with a scarf wrapped around the bottom half of his face and dark glasses that resemble welding goggles. It is what she was told to look for in order to distinguish the contact from others. Strangely, he does not seem out of place. There are no introductions, no casual chit-chat and she finds the lack of pretense refreshing. 

“I am not here because of who you are but because of who you know. You have friends that the movement considers allies.”

“The movement…”

“You know the one.”

“The Concealed,” she whispers. “I thought the RSB had driven you off-world.” 

“They cannot silence the truth and that is why we are here, is it not? You seek Selene.”

“Yes, one of those friends, your ally, needs her help.”

“What makes you so sure she can?”

Kinsa pulls the coat tighter, “My friend fights for the truth regardless of the personal and professional cost and has suffered greatly for it. She believes Selene recognizes the danger and has requested her assistance to ensure this story gets out before either the RSB can cover it up or whoever tried to take her out tries again. She believes in the truth.”

“And what do you believe?” 

“I believe I have sat on the sidelines long enough.” 

“Very well,” he says. “Glad to have you in the game.” 

He tells her about a party tomorrow night in Five Points, hosted at an underground club she has only heard about through more adventurous acquaintances. It is located in a warehouse near The Menagerie, an area with a rather sketchy reputation and alleged criminal elements. The perfect setting for a modern clandestine meeting. He sets a silver reflective card on the bench. 

“This will get you in. Take it and leave anything they can track you with behind. Selene will find you there.”

She slides it discreetly into her jacket pocket as he stands and walks away, staying seated until he disappears into the crowds. With her heart pounding, Kinsa crosses the pavilion and joins the other anxious individuals walking the streets of Ambaril. 

*

The following night, Kinsa wanders around her flat as she decides on an outfit for the party. Normally, she would have a team of professionals style her for an event but this outing was strictly off-the-books. The silver card lies on her bed, an unassuming yet ominous piece of the evening puzzle. Although she has pulled back in the last few years to focus on her acting career, Kinsa was a circuit staple and so she figures her presence would not raise too many eyebrows. If anything, it would be a return to form, a callback to her party girl past. 

She goes full techno-glam in a short one-shoulder metallic dress with an asymmetric silhouette and waist sash. Partnering the outfit with a pair of black, ankle-strap heels and a smudged, smokey eye, Kinsa dabs on a contrasting neutral lip shade and tousles her shoulder-length sandy blonde hair. Showtime, she thinks as she pulls on a shiny black jacket that is more for show than warmth. She drops the silver card into a black clutch along with a compact blade and heads out, leaving her com behind. 

The hovertaxi slows near the destination, the driver glancing warily at her in the mirror. 

“You sure, miss? This is not the best neighborhood.”

“Yes,” she says sweetly, flashing a disarming smile. “Right here is fine. Thanks.”

Stepping out in the night, her breath visible, Kinsa follows the instructions to the club through the warehouse. It is amazing what soundproofing can do as she hears nothing but the clack of her heels until she is standing in front of a giant steel door. Here there is the faintest hint of a baseline. Maybe she just has highly attuned party hearing. As if sensing her presence, a slat opens to reveal a glazed set of human eyes. 

“Please hold your invitation up to the light.”

Kinsa withdraws the silver card and extends it into a blue beam that appears above her. Under the light, the seemingly blank card reveals the raised outline of the mask associated with The Concealed. Wonderful. Now she is the criminal element in the area. The slat closes and the door unlocks, swinging open in front of her. The baseline is only slightly louder inside but once she descends a level and enters the club, the music truly becomes part of the ambiance. Blue and red lights swirl lazily over a decent-sized crowd but it is still relatively early for the scene kids. Swaying her hips to the beat, Kinsa slides out of the jacket and has a look around. It is a mixed group of age and species but it slowly dawns on her that if a card containing a hidden hologram symbol from the most persecuted protest movement in the Republic granted her access, she was probably among others who held separatist views. The risk, like ad-libbing an emotional scene, puts a charge in her step. 

After scouting the best location, she dances toward a small table near an exit door and the furthest from the entry stairwell as possible. She has a clear view of the whole bottom floor, both bar and dancefloor providing a welcome distraction while she waits. Smoke curls through the club, catching beams of light that reflect across the revelers. She smiles and has a twinge of nostalgia for her younger years as a Republic It-Girl fresh out of university and out on the town. 

“I hear you have been looking for me.”

Selene Silvestri is perched across the table, having materialized while she was lost in thought. She still wears the thick, dark glasses and that pinched expression of disdain millions of Holo fans once loved. That is until she was branded a separatist sympathizer by the Speaker and his loyalists. After that, her sponsors dried up and the network booted her but she remains a voice of reason in a world full of screaming liars. At least that is what Kaytt said. Kinsa gasps but recovers quickly, “Well, it was not an easy task.”

“If it was, I would be locked up by now. Much like the Corellian Senator.”

“We heard it from Drakos himself when he ambushed Kaytt in the hospital. It is just awful.”

“No doubt he visited the Counselor to rub it in her face. I assume that is what this is about.”

Kinsa nods, “Kaytt asked me to find you. I think she thinks her attack, the Senator’s arrest, and well, a lot of other shady things are all connected.”

“And what do you think?”

“That she is a damn good lawyer who is probably right. You know, I have been asked my opinion more in the last few days than in the last few years of my life.” 

She knocks back a drink she never saw her order, “Feels good, right?”

“It does,” she laughs, settling in but Selene’s pursed lips become almost a sly smile. “What? What is it?”

“You just surprise me, that is all.”

“How so?”

“Look at you,” Selene says. “You got all dressed up to march into a den of separatists, potentially risking your reputation and career to lobby my investigative assistance for a friend in need. Bold. I like it.” 

“As someone who seems to have recovered from fame, how does it feel?”

“Lousy but incredibly freeing. I am beholden to no one, just the truth. What motivated you to get involved?”

“My friends...they have all done some incredible things. I wanted to do more. Be more.”

“That is admirable, Kinsa. Many never try to become something other than what they are. Know more than they know. That is how we wound up in this mess with the F.U.R.A. Everyone was so willing to let themselves be deceived it was almost too easy to put legislation behind it. You know, one of the last big stories I broke was the disappearance of your friend, the Republic liaison.” 

“Janessa.”

“I see she is back now…from a sabbatical?” 

“So she says.”

“You do not believe her.”

“Kaytt does not believe her and I am more inclined to believe Kaytt than Janessa at the moment.” 

“If she was not on sabbatical then where does Kaytt think she was?”

“I do not know but it changed her somehow.” 

“In what ways?”

“She is distant yet determined. Even though she has never been the emotionally expressive type, I have never seen her so nonchalant when it comes to the horrible things that have been happening. She was shaken by something that happened to her in the Corporate Sector, almost vulnerable about it, but then nothing when she came back."

“How does Kaytt think this is all connected?”

“Kaytt has been even less forthcoming since her sister died. It was kind of a mess there for a hot minute but she pulled it together. I did get a glance at a few of her scribbled theories, some more colorful than others. The impression I got is that she believes the Empire is somehow involved in this.” 

Selene’s face is suddenly very serious, “She is not wrong.” 

“How do you know that?” 

“The Empire has the most to gain from a Republic fall and their current course of action, as well as the political backlash and upheaval, would certainly work in their favor. I am going to show you something that recently came into my possession. Roll with me on this.” 

She withdraws a small datapad, taps the screen, and turns it toward Kinsa. It is a still frame of a landing platform where a masked figure with glowing green eyes holds the limp body of a man as a shuttle ascends into the sky. 

“What…is that?”

“We believe it is an Inquisitor.”

“A what?”

“A mysterious dark-side agent of the Empire with the specific purpose of hunting down Jedi.”

“Why would you think that?”

“Because that shuttle blasting away from the platform is registered to Gemma Masterton.”

Kinsa blinks, sitting back sharply, “A confirmed…”

“Jedi, yes. We all saw the photage, heard her speech afterward. It was both impressive and inspiring but not exactly shocking, given her familial history. Hence, the conclusion.”

“And the man?”

“Facial recognition scans indicate it is Garron Prescott.”

A knot begins to form in Kinsa’s stomach, “Janessa told us she was with Garron Prescott during her absence.” 

“The timestamp also reflects this took place before Janessa Kain was reported missing. They both returned, to the Corporate Sector and Republic respectively, within days of one another.”

“What are you saying?” 

“That they may have been together but not where we have been led to believe. It also underscores the larger point. This still was pulled from a security vid hidden in the garbage files of an old Republic system. The slicers were lucky to have retrieved it before it was erased but they did not know what to look for until I came along with my bullshit. This is a story I have been investigating for years with few breakthroughs, especially after I was let go from the network. It was not until after I was introduced to The Concealed and their network that I actually made some real progress. The slicers sifted through their breach hauls which led me to this. I considered reaching out to the Counselor but our last conversation happened so long ago I wondered if she was even still interested in pursuing it. Then the attack on the firm happened and you started poking around so I figured we were on the same path.”

“You spoke before?”

“We did and she gave me the recordings that implicated Director Drakos when he threatened her and Circe Prescott. Little good that did. If anything, it only emboldened the RSB. After Shale Apteen’s murder, Drakos took his vendetta with me to Gil Leeds and the rest, as they say, is history. That is why I cannot release this myself. Too much of the public has been compromised by the Speaker’s lies. No one will believe me but Kaytt Corinthos? The public knows she gives zero fucks about anything other than justice.” 

Kinsa is completely spun by implications she can barely comprehend. She really has been kept out of the loop. 

“What does this even mean?”

“It means,” Selene says, leaning into the table. “That either someone in the Republic did not want to public to know an Imperial Inquisitor was lurking around Chandaar or the Empire found a way to intercept the vid and conceal it entirely.”

“Would that not, like, destroy the truce?”

“Yes, it would, showing that while the Empire has taken a surprisingly contrary position to the Republic’s stance on those with Force ability, they have Sith mercenaries carrying out missions in the capital and beyond. The Republic may be using the law to identify and track Force-sensitive individuals but the Empire is acting on that data in what is essentially collaborative genocide. Willing or not, it furthers their legislative goals and any reasonably justifiable defensive action on the part of the Jedi or others only serves to deepen their resolve. The Empire has turned the Republic into a galactic villain all while eliminating any threats that may have the foresight to see them doing it.”

“I feel sick.”

“You should. I may not be able to report the news anymore but I can sure as hell find the goods that will blow this charade apart. Unfortunately, the fallout will not be without blood. There is always a price for freedom in truth.”

A canister falls from the metal walkway above, landing silently on the duracrete floor in front of the bar. The flash-bang stuns them, the music abruptly cutting out, and then the screaming starts. Kinsa leaps up from the chair, completely horrified. People are running, cutting paths through the smoke as the shadows of the authorities loom over them. 

“Go!” Selene shouts, pulling a small disk from the datapad and handing it to her. “Tell Corinthos she was not wrong and there is more where this came from.”

RSB agents rush the dancefloor, heading toward the bar. Selene has disappeared. Kinsa tosses the disk in her purse with the card and blade then turns and throws herself toward the exit door. 






-TBC

[Syren]

“I’m in the deep
(Keep) trying not to sink
(Need) one more chance to breathe
Please can anybody hear me
Crying out for help?
Or maybe I’m just talking to myself
Praying I might wake up someone else.”

-Theobuntu & ENROSA

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Five Points

Panic (and terror) at the disco.

With club patrons fleeing and shouting behind her, Kinsa crashes into the stairwell just in time to see the looming shadows of RSB agents storming this level. She shifts direction, sprinting down a narrow corridor toward the stairs at the other end of the warehouse. Most people would not be able to run in heels but not Kinsa. Her years as a party girl on the move make this a unique skill that serves her well. She hears one agent call out as he gives chase, closing the distance between them with frightening speed. There is an open gate at the end of the corridor, one she grabs on the way through and slams behind her. It locks as she hits the duracrete wall but drops her purse. The agent slams into the gate, demanding she stops right there. Not going to happen, officer. She moves forward and reaches for the clutch when he grabs her arm through the slender opening between the gate. Screaming, she kicks at it which pinches his arm enough to release her.

Kinsa grabs the clutch and dashes up the stairs.

Most of the doors along the way are predictably locked, forcing her higher until all that remains is access to the roof. She pulls the handle which comes apart in her hands and she lets out an exasperated whimper. This cannot be happening. Several stories below, the agents enter the stairwell and begin their climb toward her. Completely freaking out, she digs out the blade from her clutch and flips it open. Kinsa jams it into the hole where the handle used to be and turns, catching enough of the mechanism within to open it. The agent rounds the stairs below and so she hurls the handle at him and pushes out onto the roof. The heavy door slams behind her as a frigid wind whips at her exposed flesh. Her heart is pumping so furiously that fear threatens to overwhelm her entirely.

Do not stop, she tells herself. It is a mantra of encouragement that feels forced and hollow.

Kinsa pulls on the shiny jacket and quickly traverses the peeling layers and rusting ductwork with the agents banging on the door behind her. She skims the edge, looking for a way off but the warehouse is not close enough to the next building to make a jump. That would be insane anyway. Who does she think she is, an action star? Roles with dangerous physical activity usually involve coordination training and stunt work. This is real life with real danger and she needs an exit plan fast. Two large rungs loop over into anchors at the far end of the build, signifying a safety escape ladder. She runs to it but finds a rusted casing along the top to prevent access. Far below, bodies scatter as they flee the scene and she is determined to join them in the exodus. Still holding the blade, she stuffs the clutch purse into an inside pocket of the jacket and uses the weapon to pry open the casing. It comes free with less force than she expects but wastes no time sliding up onto the ledge, and swinging her legs over. Once her heels are firmly in the ladder’s rungs, she begins her descent, dipping below the ledge as she hears the agents bust through the door. She moves quickly but safely knowing that a fall would end this daring escape on a gruesome note. Kinsa dangles from the last rung before letting go and landing solidly in the ally. She then runs out into the night.

Five Points may not be a safe area but it borders Serinus with The Menagerie looming with its ethereal beauty in the distance. She formulates a plan as she darts between buildings, trying to stay out of sight. RSB sirens wail with patrol skiffs moving in a perimeter around the warehouse no doubt looking for separatist revelers to capture and interrogate. Kinsa does not think she would hold up well in custody and plots an escape. She could head to The Menagerie where Quinn would likely help her and not ask too many questions. From there, she could procure a ride back into central Ambaril to the hospital where Kaytt would be thrilled with her evidence of Imperial meddling. It is more than that, she acknowledges dimly. This was proof of Sith activity despite the F.U.R.A. and it could bring down a crowning achievement of galactic peace. Then again, it could also be proof of conspiracy which would spell even greater doom for the once-great Republic.

What the hell had she gotten herself into?

A patrol skiff roars over the building in front of her, causing Kinsa to stop and step back into the shadows. She pulls the coat tightly around her although it does little good to keep out the cold. There is no way she would be able to outrun the RSB on foot and she considers plausible excuses she could use to justify her presence here. The Menagerie is still too far away for a sisterly visit to work, especially since she put herself on the RSB shitlist standing up to Drakos. If she was found, she would be screwed and this whole exercise in enlightenment and political resistance would be for nothing. That is when a dilapidated hovertaxi sputters by but slows down just past the ally. She pokes her head out like a damn cartoon before making a break for it. She jumps in and is surprised to find the driver slide up his goggles and smile.

“You.”

“Yes, me.”

“Well, let’s bloody go then!”

He pulls away from the warehouses and joins a lane of traffic heading back into the city center. She slumps down in the seat, completely spent but grateful for the rescue. Given her conversation with Selene, however, she is also suspicious.

“How did you find me?”

“Chance,” he says. “I was hoping my ruse would be able to save a few from capture. You are my fourth pickup.”

“Thank the Maker."

“Did you find what you were looking for?”

She shivers, running a hand through her hair, “I am just the facilitator but there were definitely some revelations. Goodness, I must look terrible after all that.”

“Not sure that is possible but let us find the silver lining. You escaped a raid. Not everyone will be so fortunate."

“Do you think they followed me there? Was this my fault?”

“You left your com as I instructed, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Then it is only a marginal possibility given your associations but I would not waste time on blame or guilt. Anywhere we gather they eventually find. There are so few of us left but the fact that they continue to pursue us means we clearly represent a threat to their power. Where can I drop you?”

“Ambaril General.”

The stranger guides the hovertaxi through downtown but stops just short of the hospital.

“Best to keep a careful distance.”

“Agreed,” she says, stepping back out into the frosty evening air. “Thank you, really.”

“Kinsa, you cannot unknow what you now know. What you do with that is up to you.”

She nods and watches as he speeds away, hopeful others would also be spared an unenviable fate. It is only a temporary reprieve because that agent saw her. Dressed up or down, she is not a typical civilian and recognizable to most. The RSB could be after her. She heads toward the hospital, spotting Janessa emerging from the entrance. She waves at the CorSec agents posted nearby and begins to walk in her direction. For a moment, she is frozen, unsure about what to do. Selene’s words reverberate in her head, the image of the Inquisitor holding the limp body of Garron Prescott still fresh, the man Janessa claimed to be with on this mysterious sabbatical. What is she even thinking? This is her friend. Sure, she has been acting a little strange but these are unprecedented times and-

“Kinsa?”

She defaults to charming, “Oh, hi!”

“What are you doing here at this hour?”

“I was…going to see Kaytt. I imagine you were doing the same.”

“I planned to but she is sleeping. Those CorSec agents were fairly adamant about not disturbing her.”

“No, I, like, have to see her though,” she says, eyes drifting toward the CorSec agents. Should she call out? What would she even say? Help, I think my friend is full of shit? Janessa has always been secretive and they were spared the more salacious details of her exploits. Right now, though, she does not look amused but her expression grows more concerned as she nears. Kinsa is shivering with a scraped up knees and disheveled hair.

“Are you okay?”

“Of course, but I will just be a moment. I promised I would check up on her."

“Kinsa, they booted me. They are not going to let you see her right now. Come on, let me take you home.”

“No. Can’t.”

“What? Why not?”

“Uh, may have been at a party I should not have been. You know how it goes.”

“Old habits die hard.”

“Something like that.”

“My place it is then,” she says, linking arms and practically dragging her away. “Besides, you look like you could use a drink.”

Although that is literally the best idea she has ever heard, Kinsa throws one last look back at the hospital before being whisked off to Janessa’s flat. Alright, game plan. She sorts through the details of the evening, attempting to establish a baseline of truth without revealing the motives behind it. By the time they reach the flat, the events of the evening leave her close to tears. She falls onto the sofa and shudders as the adrenaline high crests into exhaustion. With her back turned, Janessa fixes them cocktails at the wet bar.

“Tell me about this party.”

“What is there to say? Underground club, good vibe, decent music, an untimely RSB raid. Your typical night on the town."

Janessa turns around, handing her a glass.

“A raid? With everything going on, why would they even bother?"

“Beats me,” Kinsa says, taking it with trembling hands. “It was unreal.”

“You are all banged up and dusty. What did you do, crawl through a sewer tunnel to escape?”

“Practically.”

The liquor feels good on her throat, a pleasant warming sensation spreading across her chest. It beats back the numbness of the cold against her skin. She finishes off the glass greedily in an attempt to counter the lingering sense of dread. It had been a narrow escape but she is not out of the woods yet. The sensation becomes something else. Her limbs feel heavy and so she sets the glass on the table in front of her before slumping back against the sofa.

“I am just so…tired. I guess I did not realize it until now.”

“Of course you are,” Janessa says evenly as she rounds the table. “You had a long night.”

She smiles lazily, words becoming thick on her tongue, “I guess I cannot hang like I used to.”

“It happens to the best of us.”

“Please do not let them get me,” she whispers softly, drifting off.

Janessa watches her lose consciousness with a curious stoicism. Earlier this evening, after returning home from the office, an ancient phrase was waiting for her in a message that sent her to the hospital looking for Kinsa. It was compulsory, like being along for the ride in her own body. She grabs her purse and fishes out the tiny black case containing a syringe filled with an amber liquid. A tool she had been sent back with. Flashes of a dimly lit room replace the posh living room where she lay shaking and traumatized by the lightning attacks that never seemed to end. A place where her screams became almost a comical part of the soundtrack. The grey woman knelt beside her, leaning close to her face to reinforce one of her objectives. Something repeated gently after a vicious attack.

Unite the Cavanaugh sisters as secret allies of the Sith.

Janessa snaps back into this reality and plunges the needle deep in Kinsa’s arm, watching the liquid disappear without so much as a pause.

“They will be the least of your worries.”







-TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril 

At Ambaril General, the CorSec officers that were part of Kyatt's security detail had a fairly strict routine, which included reporting to their charge who was either there to see her, or who had attempted to see her.

"Miss Corinthos, while you were resting, there were a few individuals who wished to make contact with you"

Kyatt appreciated the security, but not the formality as the officer read off of his list.
"Your nurse came to check on you. We did monitor her activity while she was present, and everything seemed in order.  A news reporter requested an interview with you.  We declined on your behalf.
A Miss Janessa Kain also requested to see you, but we insisted she return when you were awake.
We also saw a Miss Kinsa Kavanaugh approaching the hospital - she waved at our officers by the main entrance - but she left at the same time Miss Kain was leaving,and they appeared to depart together."
Kyatt sat up in bed so fast, she almost fainted. This.was.not.good.

=================================
Officer Shawn Kumasar had returned to visit the senator, despite the risks involved, with an urgent message.

"Senator, we've begun putting the plan into place.  We've already started getting people off-world.  A few at a time.  And none too soon either.  We've received word from the senate.  They've passed new rules of enforcement regarding the F.U.R.A."

Artemis had seen reports on the screen about the new rules, nodding his head solemnly

"Enhanced interrogation ... yes, I know"
"I expected Director Drakos is going to be moving you soon, sir.  To a less public location."

Officer Kumusar glanced over at the guard/clerk who was not paying attention at all, then reached in and grabbed Artemis' arm.  Before he could protest, Kumusar pulled from his pocket an injector gun, pressed it against Artemis' skin, and fired.

Artemis felt like his entire arm was on fire, but Kumusar was already putting the gun away.
"I've just inserted a tracker in your arm sir.  It will hopefully allow us to find you if they take you away. We also have an officer stationed on the roof across from the building, so we hopefully will know if anything happens"

Artemis pulled back his hand, nursing his arm. "next time, warn me."
"Sorry sir. I was worried about timing"
Artemis shook his head
"Any word when they plan on moving me?"
"nothing definitive sir. But it is going to be soon. Very soon"

TBC

[Syren]

“Tell me what is real
Stop chasing bad habits
Tell me what is real
Follow the white rabbit.”

-Nadine Lustre

Chandaar: Republic Capital 

Surface: Ambaril 

Kinsa Cavanaugh wakes with a start. 

Where…is she? Oh, right. Janessa’s flat. The memories of what led her to this moment creep back into the fog surrounding a heavy head. She is extremely sore from the extreme cardio in her great club escape. What did she expect as a thirtysomething? She is not as young as she used to be. Kinsa rubs her arm and sits up, finding herself nestled beneath a blanket on the couch. Her ruined heels lay next to the table with the shiny jacket neatly folded over a sitting chair. Oh shit, the jacket. The flat is quiet and she realizes she does not even know what time it is. There is light seeping through the sheer fabric behind deep purple and haphazardly drawn drapes. 

Sliding her legs onto the floor, she attempts to stand. It is more difficult than she anticipates with her calves and thighs tight in protest. Kinsa settles for crawling and pulls the jacket off the chair, digging inside to find her clutch. Blade, card, and disk – all there. She relaxes and tries to shake off the grogginess weighing her down. Did she fall asleep or pass out? Hard to tell after all that. She does not remember drinking heavily, just the glass she gulped down when she got here. The combination of alcohol and exhaustion must have knocked her right out. 

She pulls herself up and moves around, loosening up the muscles in her legs until they regain some feeling. There is a note on the counter from Janessa – off to work, relax, get some rest and they would meet up later. Kinsa knows she has to get this datacard to the hospital but a cursory glance in the mirror tells her that would have to wait until she is more presentable. Her smudged look and torn dress would elicit too much suspicion. She showers and changes into one of Janessa’s many pantsuits, something that would cover her scraped knees and inevitable bruises starting to form from the rooftop hijinks. She pulls her hair into a simple, twisted high bun and dabs on a soft pink balm before gathering her things. They all have access to each other’s places, a necessity for flat-sitting and random crashing among friends. This kind of morning was not uncommon as they came up through the Republic in their own ways. Now it holds a more ominous undertone that she cannot seem to shrug off. 

The stranger’s words return to her – she can never unknow what she now knows. Boy, if that is not the understatement of the moment. One cannot un-ring a bell. Kinsa purposefully left her com-link at home so she scribbles out a simple thank you note and heads to the hospital. It is marginally warmer today as the deep fall ebbs into winter but she is grateful she chose a layered look in contrast to the strictly ornamental getup from last night. At Ambaril General, the CorSec agents greet and clear her, announcing her arrival to a relieved-looking Kaytt Corinthos. 

She nods to the agents and they leave them alone in the room, “Are you alright? I was worried.”

“Fine, fine, I crashed at Janessa’s. Last night got, uh, a bit complicated.”

“That explains the white pantsuit. What happened?”

Kinsa rounds the bed, “You tell me. Something is clearly going on there but I cannot place it. Judging by your reaction, I am guessing it is not good.”

“We will get to that. How did you fare otherwise?”

“I found Selene, as you asked.” 

“Kinsa, that is wonderful! What did she have to say?”

“Our chat was enlightening but it was soon crushed by our friends at the RSB. Tear gas and everything. I barely made it out and despite what sounds like a miraculous getaway, I may be in some trouble. An agent saw me and my fingerprints are likely on a door handle I threw at him on my way onto the rooftop. It was a whole thing. I may be sore as hell but I am alive and here to deliver some unfortunate and disturbing news.”

Kaytt smirks, “Trouble I can help you with. As for the disturbing news, it cannot be as bad as I have been imagining for the past few years.”

“Potentially worse, actually. Selene has taken up with The Concealed which apparently has slicers breaching Republic databases on the reg scouting for damning intel.” 

“I take it they found some.”

Kinsa lays out everything she and Selene discussed in the club. The Inquisitor. Garron Prescott. Gemma Masterton’s shuttle. The possibility of Republic conspiracy or violation of the truce or both. It seems to activate and confirm something for the counselor, her expression barely concealing the rage. Before Kaytt can ask the inevitable question of proof, she withdraws the datacard from the clutch purse and hands it over. 

“This cost me a designer dress and possibly my rep so I hope it is worth it.”

“Hand me my datapad.”

Kinsa grabs the device from the nearby stand and hands it to her. Kaytt quickly slips the disk inside and opens it, waiting for something to happen. Except nothing happens. 

The datacard is blank. 

Her face sinks in a way that Kinsa follows instantly.

“Fuck, are you serious?! I could have been caught and interrogated last night. I pulled muscles I never even knew I had. No, no, the photage was there. I saw it myself.  I swear it, Kaytt. The Inquisitor had this kind of burnt orange and black armor and glowing green eyes beneath a terrifying mask. It was insane. Selene is on the same wavelength. The Empire is involved and this proved it. It was there on the disk!”

“I believe you,” Kaytt says in as calm a tone as she can manage. “But it is not there now.”

“How could this have happened?”

They find each other’s gaze and the name appears without either having to utter it. 

Janessa. 

“Tell me exactly what happened last night.”

“First tell me what her deal is because I thought she was just being extra bitchy but she seems much more calculating. I thought she only reserved that approach for work and sex but never with us. It is totally freaking me out.”

“We think she is being controlled,” Kaytt mutters bluntly. 

“Again? That girl needs a therapist like yesterday. Wait, who is we?”

“I was contacted about Janessa’s behavior at a business function and learned that she had been sent to find Garron Prescott after he disappeared.”

“Then she disappeared.”

“Exactly. Theoretically, if this Inquisitor took Prescott, it is possible she was taken too.”

It would also explain why no one in her office seemed to know about her sudden departure and the sabbatical angle materialized only after her presence was publicly confirmed. Even with privacy laws, her office could still disclose she took a temporary leave from the position given the business deals at stake. Deals with the Corporate Sector where a recently appointed Imperial ambassador replaced the bastard that tried to kill her. The shuttle bombing reprise failed and even though she refrained in her testimony before the Senate, she must have been getting too close to the Imperial involvement at play. So, they took her off the board, reprogrammed her, and put her back where they need her to be. The same way they appear to have done with Prescott. 

“Well, according to Selene, they both resurfaced within days of each other. This could make things here even worse.” 

“I imagine that was the purpose, a blatant slap in the face to the opposition who are fighting for Force User rights. Classic misdirection. This is not the Jedi trying to strike back at the Republic for being shunned, it is the Empire fueling a bigoted movement through deliberate action. Janessa has been compromised before so another turn under the thrall of the Force would not be shocking to many. If anything, it would validate the critics who called for her resignation after she was acquitted. The trial set legislation in motion as well as the moral and ethical resistance to it, creating a cleverly constructed crisis in the wake of the truce.” 

Kinsa shakes her head, “These are people’s lives they are messing with.” 

“It does not matter when power is involved. The Empire saw no other option against a unified Republic. The truce was a bait the Republic could not resist, a best-case scenario after so many years of conflict. Pragmatically, I understand it but the switch was only revealed after Apteen was gone and Leeds took up the cause with reckless zeal. Now it is spiraling out of control with people like Selene vilified and systems like Corellia being scapegoated. Sides will be chosen and violence will follow because destabilization is exactly what the Empire needs to emerge victoriously.”

“That is awful but where does Janessa fit into all this?”

“Good question which is why I need to know about last night.”

Kinsa gives her the run-down from the club to the hospital to Janessa’s flat. The details that stand out are the lateness of Janessa’s visit coinciding with Kinsa’s arrival and the fact that Kinsa was asleep so quickly after the drink. It is not out of the realm of possibility that she was exhausted after the ordeal at the club but it is the wording that sticks. 

“I felt…strange. Heavy. I could not keep my eyes open. Honestly, I do not even remember falling asleep.” 

“That is because she probably drugged you.”

Kinsa gasps, “Way harsh. Why would she do that?”

“She may not have been in control. Someone must have known you made contact with alleged separatists and needed to ascertain what, if anything, you discovered. Did you see her make the drink?”

She struggles to recall but flashes to her turning around before inquiring about the party. She had been so shaken by everything that she did not register Janessa’s behavior as odd, almost stiff, and singularly focused on Kinsa’s evening.  

“No.”

“Then it would stand to reason that with you unconscious, she could search anything you had on you. You did say your heels were off and the jacket hung on the chair. Under normal circumstances, this would not seem out of the ordinary but given the context, Janessa may have found the disk and erased it even if she did not know why.”

“Why not just take it then?” 

“Too suspicious. Right now, she has plausible deniability. We cannot exactly confront her about something she can easily claim to know nothing about. She may not even know she did it. A confrontation would also tip our hand. If she drugged you, I am grateful that is all she did. When the CorSec agents told me the two of you left together, I was fearful something worse would happen.” 

“Do you think she would hurt me?”

Kaytt sighs, “She murdered someone under the influence of the Force, Kinsa. Agent Erbon had no reason to believe she was a threat to him but he stood in the way so he was eliminated. I do not want the same to happen to you. We must be careful.”

“Oh yeah, right. If I try to avoid her, she will know something is wrong.”

“You are an actor, Kinsa. Use that talent along with your busy schedule to circumvent any chances she may have to get you alone again. Stick to public places, crowds, exactly the kinds of venues you frequent. It is not foolproof but active mitigation will protect you.” 

“I do have a few scripts to consider and meetings with producers so that should not be a problem. What are you going to do?”

“Defend Senator Soldys against these insane charges and try to get my hands on some actual proof. I am feeling stronger every day but I must work quickly as there are rumors the Imperial Ambassador is on his way back to the capital. That little shit probably does not want to miss this abortion of democracy.” 

Kinsa withdraws the silver card from her clutch and shows it to Kaytt. 

“This was my way in. Under certain light, there is a hologram of The Concealed mask. If I can score another meeting, I am sure I can get you what you need.” 

“I am wary of involving you further but I am not exactly going anywhere without an entourage. How can you even be sure there is more to get?”

She smiles, feeling more confident in her new purpose, “Selene told me there is.”

“Alright but for goodness sake be careful and call me immediately if the RSB shows up with questions.” 

Kinsa kisses her softly on the cheek and flitters out the door. Kaytt should be thrilled for the assistance but the confirmation of Imperial interference does more to convince her they are working toward an untenable situation with the Republic. The final pieces are moving into place and the next steps could be swift and brutal. The setup was there all along. Kinsa is right. They are messing with people’s lives. Destroying them in some cases. 

If the Republic falls, it is going to get ugly. 








-TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

The jail cell seemed to grow smaller each day as Artemis paced back and forth, nothing to do but listen to the news of the Republic teetering on the edge of ...

Artemis couldn't even finish that sentence, because he wasn't exactly sure what it was. The Republic was turning to a dark place, but the source of that darkness, how they were influencing so many, and what the Republic would eventually turn into - all of that was clouded in mystery.  All he knew was that more and more people were not safe.  Corellians. force users. anyone who stood against the supposedly free New Republic.

His thoughts were interrupted by the clang of the station door, as Director Laird Drakos entered, making his way past the silent clerk toward Artemis' cell, flanked by a dozen heavily armed agents.

"Senator Soldys, you are coming with me"
"For trial?"
"Not yet.  We've determined that this cell is not adequately secure, and will be moving you to a more appropriate facility"
Artemis shook his head
"Isn't this beneath you? Don't you care about the Republic?  Don't you care at all about what it is turning into?"
Drakos smirked
"Tough words from a traitor like you.  My job is to keep this Republic safe and secure from the likes of you.  Now come on"

As the cell door opened, Artemis thought for a moment about fighting his way out, but really, what was the point?  He was unarmed, and they would overpower him before he took two steps forward.

He was quickly cuffed and escorted past the again, silent clerk, this time down the hall to the station's back door.
"I suppose you don't want the press seeing you taking me away?"
"Oh, the press isn't a problem.  The courts have instituted a gag order prohibiting all press related to your detention"
"Is that another freedom you protect?"
Drakos paused, turning, lifting an arm, ready to swat Artemis' in the face.
But then he stopped himself, content with a grin.
"You'll find that upsetting me is not in your best interest.  I'll have time to show you just how I deal with traitors soon enough"

He turned and continued leading the way out to the back lot, where several enclosed transports were waiting.  It was night time, the parking lot illuminated by the harsh glow of overhead lamps, casting circles of light that were punctuated by the surrounding darkness.
Artemis glanced up overhead, hoping to see some stars, but the sky was overcast, and there was too much light pollution anyway on Chandaar- the only way to see the stars was from space.

Artemis was placed in the back of a one of the larger transports, his cuffs secured to the side wall with a bracket clamp, leaving his arms uncomfortably above his head.

He glanced over at the back doors, briefly catching a last glimpse of the outside before they slammed shut, leaving him with a single RSB agent sitting across from him.  The agent's face was hidden behind a heavy helmet, his firearm casually gripped and loosely pointed in Artemis' direction.

"Better get cozy."


It was a few moments later that Artemis felt the vibration as the vehicle started moving.

The trip was uneventful, almost smooth, as Artemis tried to guess where they were taking him - and more importantly, how far away.  Leaving the city would be a risk, even for RSB, but if they succeeded, it would be hard for him to be found.

Suddenly, there was a loud boom from outside the vehicle, causing the whole cab to shake.  The agent across from Artemis tensed his grip over his weapon, knocking on the small slab between the holding cell and the driver's section of the transport.

"What's going on"
"We've been ambushed!  We're under attack"

=================================
EARLIER ...

The CorSec agent glanced down at the convoy of vehicles that approached the station, watching as none other than the Director, Laird Drakos exited and made his way inside, flanked by a dozen armed troops.

Carefully, he ducked down, whispering into his comm.
"This is Raines.  We've got movement at the station"
"Kumusar here. Report"
"Drakos just arrived, a good half dozen vehicles, including two large transports.  He just entered with a dozen bogies."
"This could be it.  Keep your eyes peeled and let me know if you see the senator"

Agent Raines poked his head up, lifting a scope so he could see more clearly.  He didn't have to wait long.
"Raines here sir.  Confirmed.  Senator has been placed in transport.  Fourth vehicle in convoy.  Vehicles appear ready to move out."
=================================
Kumusar listened to the report, glancing up at the screen in front of him.

"Is the tracker working?"

"Yes sir.  We are picking up movement.  They are taking the senator west, out of Ambaril"

"If they get him to their destination, it will be too hard to extract him.  We're going to need to grab him mid-transit.  Prepare the evac team and move to intercept."

"Aye sir"
=================================
The convoy was driving at a brisk pace into the night, wary of prying eyes - media or otherwise - that might not like their treatment of the senator.

As they reached the more remote highway, a brief twinkling of lights could be seen on either side of the convoy, off in the distance.

Before the convoy could respond, a VCX-100 light freighter was diving out of the cloud cover, firing a series of lasers at the front vessel in the convoy.  Despite the armor on the vehicle, it was not equipped for the aerial assault, and soon exploded into flames.

The convoy didn't slow - in fact, the remaining vehicles sped up as they navigated around the first vehicle's wreckage.  Two of the transports sides opened, revealing side laser cannons that began firing at the attacking vehicle.  The freighter ducked low, flying behind the convoy now and firing at the last vehicle, quickly knocking it out of commission.  The convoy was picking up speed now, heading toward the tree line, where the road disappeared into the forest - and where the freighter would not be able to fly.

The twinkling lights from the shadows appeared again, and a dozen speeders began to close in, moving to intercept, each armed with a single laser turret, manned by figures obscured by the shadows.

The VCX-100 rose higher again, zooming ahead of the last vehicle in the convoy, then  down again, almost landing on the vehicle in front of it.

============================
Artemis could hear the firefight outside, but the last thud was the hardest of all.  Artemis would have been thrown from his seat, but for the cuffs holding him in place. As it was, his back swung out and then slammed back into the wall of the transport.

That wasn't a laser-blast - something hit them.

The driver immediately shouted back at the RSB guard.

"They've landed on top of us"

"oh no they don't"

The agent was barely looking at Artemis now, pointing his weapon up toward the ceiling of the transport.  Artemis was trying to figure out what he could be doing, but at the moment, he was stuck against the wall.

The agent began firing upward, almost with abandon, poking holes through the ceiling, apparently in hopes of damaging the freighter above them.
============================
"magnetic clamps engaged"

The freighter locked onto the transport with a vice grip, not withstanding the firing coming from below.  The transport was too heavy for the small freighter to lift, but it was able to turn the transport, causing the vehicle to swerve off road, and away from the protection of the rest of the convoy, now engaged in a full blown firefight with the approaching speeders.  A hatch opened in the back of the freighter and two ropes extended out.  Two figures carefully maneuvered out, making their way to the rear of the vehicle.

============================
Artemis felt as the transport jerked off the road, the RSB agent losing his balance and landing near the senator.  This was his shot.  With a quick swing of his legs, Artemis kicked high into the agent's face, sending him swooning backward, the gun falling from his hands.  Artemis stretched his legs as far as he could, tapping the firearm and dragging it closer to him.

Meanwhile the driver was trying, desperately, to regain steering of his vehicle, back toward the armored escort, who was just now beginning to realize their cargo was not with them.  Suddenly, he braked - hard, forcing the wheels to stop going along with the pull of the freighter.

The freighter kept moving though, and with the roof of the transport weakened by the agent's firefight, a circle of metal ripped off as it did.  Artemis glanced up as shards of metal ripped away from each other, glancing at the rear of the freighter - and then saw the two ropes, hanging loosely from the back.
=============================
The two agents felt the freighter brake from the transport, releasing their grip on the ropes and letting themselves land (hard) on the back corner of the transport. The driver, seeing he was free of the freighter, quickly moved his foot from the brake to the throttle, redirecting his vehicle toward the road.  Glancing in his mirrors, he saw the two shadows hanging to his vehicle, and he rattled the wheel, hoping to shake them off.

============================
Three of the convoy transport vessels were now moving to intercept the one holding Artemis, dozens of soldiers and guns firing at the forces that were both behind and in front of them.

The freighter had released the loose metal and was now zooming around for a second pass, firing back at the oncoming escort.  It had taken a few hits, and its shields were flickering, but there was no attempt to retreat.
============================
The two soldiers clung to the transport as the driver tried shaking them off, but they slowly began making progress, clawing their way up on the roof and then climbing in through the now convenient hole in the roof.

One moved quickly to the still open slot between the rear and the driver, firing a stun shot at the driver.

"Senator Soldys, we are here to evacuate you"

Artemis had managed to get the firearm between his legs, and had been bringing it up in hopes of using it to free his arms.  He smiled at the Corellian soldiers, even as the vehicle began to move unsteadily.

"Don't suppose you could help with ..."

One of the two soldiers quickly climbed back up, and dove into the driver's seat, taking control of the wheel.  Once the vehicle was moving more smoothly, the second soldier moved and dismantled the clasp holding Artemis in place.

"How many do you have"
"Enough, sir.  But we aren't staying in this transport long"

The freighter had realigned now  and was flying directly overhead, the two loose ropes still hanging from its rear hatch.
One soldier quickly attached a harness to Artemis' waist, grabbing one of the loose ropes and attaching it through the loop.

"Good luck sir"
"Wait - what happened to Director Drakos?"
'Sorry sir. Not part of our mission"

The soldier stepped back, lifting his comm
"Package is secure"

The VCX-100 began rising, Artemis dangling through the air after it.  The freighter was still rising as Artemis glanced down, watching as the transport he had been on exploded below.

Slowly, the rope began to pull upward, and a few moments later, a hand clasped Artemis, pulling him through the hatch.

"Kumusar"
"Good to see you alive, senator"
"I owe you my life.  What about Drakos?"
"They were too well armed sir -we'd have liked taking Drakos, but our force was better suited for distraction then defeat.  They disbursed as soon as you were safely away.  We don't believe Drakos was among the casualties."

"Then it won't be long before we are hunted."

"We assume RSB will put out a BOLO on this vessel sir. That's why we've arranged alternate transport for you"

Kumusar led Artemis to the cockpit, where he could see that a small starfighter was beginning to hover over the vehicle.
"The VCX is designed to accommodate an auxiliary starfighter.  It can hold two - you and one other sir.  Once we are in orbit, you'll leave in the fither, and we'll take this vessel elsewhere, hopefully keep RSB off the scent until you can get to Corellia."

============================

Orbit around Chandaar was busy as ever, and their freighter was hardly easy to ID amid the traffic.  Artemis was moving through the starfighter's cockpit when he took one last look down.

"i think you need a promotion Kumusar"

"Thank you sir.  But let's save that for when the job is done.  We need to protect Corellia.  I'll see you there when the evac is finished"

The hatch between the starfighter and freighter closed, and soon, Artemis was launching into hyperspace.

Officer Kumusar watched for a moment before signaling to the agent beside him.

"Send the coded message.  the senator is going to need support at the net line."
"Aye sir"

As if the disappearance of the last voice of reason from the senate was not foreboding enough, it was only moments later that the space in front of them was filled with a new ship.

An imperial star destroyer.

"Looks like the Empire's diplomat is back"

============================
SURFACT: AMBARIL GENERAL HOSPITAL

With a knock on her door, a CorSec Agent entered Kyatt Corinthos' hospital room.

"Counselor.  We've evacuated Senator Soldys.  We are prepared to evacuate you as well. But we must go now."

TBC

[Syren]

“Old blood runnin’ thick in her veins like a muddy water
Closed eyes as you utter her name, she’s somebody’s daughter
The north wind comin, blowin’ a gale, so you better stay back
Old world comin’ tumblin’ down, you said we’d never see that.”

-Hot Since 82

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

The CSA delegation from Palace Arms has just arrived.

Janessa Kain waits with her small receiving team as they step off the transport to join them at the entrance to Tromperie, one of the most exclusive restaurants in Chandaar. The delegation came straight from the spaceport, luggage whisked off to their rooms at the Hotel Mermeia. The change in company ownership meant a change in leadership. In the Corporate Sector, these kinds of shifts happened with a casual frequency which meant that she, as the Republic liaison, had to reestablish a formal business relationship. This was, by far, the best part of her job – the schmoozing. She is quite fond of forging new connections which, at times, evolved from lucrative networking contact to a worthy linguistic adversary to thrilling sexual conquest. The charge came from never knowing exactly where it would go.

As far as she is concerned, work and play were never mutually exclusive.

This delegation seems fairly typical at first appraisal with representative corporate suits from various functional areas of the company present and accounted for. The difference here is that these players were curated by the cunning young Baron, Dane Gellar. He claims they had an arrangement but she remembers no such thing. There are many holes where memories used to be, now filled with dark compulsions she cannot articulate. It feels as though parts of her have been overwritten, tasks she must complete lingering like a word on the tip of one’s tongue with the syllables only cobbled together at the very last moment. She is a passenger on a strange adventure and, while the feeling is hauntingly familiar, the meaning escapes her. However, she is a professional with a morally dubious past so she attempts to take it all in stride.

Janessa’s layered robes are a deep purple and embroidered with woven gold patterns, black hair expertly piled into three perfect twists at the top, crown, and base of her head. Her umber eyes, heavily shadowed, flicker over a particular addition to the delegation – a boy, late-teens, possibly early twenties with a jaw that could cut glass and shoulders her sculpted legs would look marvelous resting atop of. The head of the delegation introduces him as Kier Kincaid which rings a bell. He is handsome, slick, and completely out of his depth. An entirely delicious combination. Kier notices her immediately and smiles broadly. No need to play coy. She is just as beautiful as Dane said she was, working the mysterious and aloof angle effortlessly. Outside the obligatory selling points, Dane charged him with discovering what she really wants from them and why – by any means necessary.

Kier hopes that will be as much fun as it sounds.

*

Midtown

At Ambaril General, Kaytt is just settling in on what she hopes will be the perfect closing remarks to sway the jury and free the Senator when there is a knock on the door. Agent Inchaite steps inside quickly, speaking in a low, urgent tone.

“Counselor. We have evacuated Senator Soldys. We are prepared to evacuate you as well. But we must go now.”

Well, there goes her brilliant trial defense and systematic takedown of the RSB not to mention the larger Republic justice system that has failed them so spectacularly. She was so looking forward to smearing Drakos and his minions all over the courtroom but justice would come another day. And it would come. The Republic would pay for what it has done. Now is the time to be practical and prompt. Evacuation in such haste means they probably attempted to dispose of Soldys discreetly which is horrifying in and of itself but hardly surprising given the lengths they have gone to thus far. She wonders how much evidence Drakos actually has if this was his default course of action. Perhaps he did not want to face her down in what was sure to have been a brutal spectacle, a test case to set precedent against the Republic’s abhorrent political overreach.

As she quickly dresses, shoulder still aching from the surgery, she glances at Agent Inchaite.

“I need to stop by my flat first.”

“Counselor, I do not believe we have much time.”

“It will only take a moment,” she says, tapping out an urgent message for Kinsa to meet her. He nods and she joins him in the corridor where they briskly depart the hospital together.

*

Downtown

Kinsa Cavanaugh has been losing time.

She remembers leaving the hospital and contacting the stranger, trying to go on with her life as if everything was normal. As Kaytt instructed. She took the meetings with producers but the stranger had not responded so she began to worry. When the RSB arrived at her door, days later as she suspected they would, she thought that was it. They were going to torch her pretty little life before she even got a chance to really live it. The next thing she knew, she was having dinner with a few fellow actors and socialites, seemingly coming to in the middle of the meal. They were unphased by her confusion, due in part to a lack of sobriety, which she recovered from quickly. She put on that flawless face and carried on. Only later did she realize that several hours had passed between the interaction with the RSB and the dinner.

What happened?

She was not in custody nor a person of interest, at least from what she could tell. That is…good? Maybe she charmed her way out of the warehouse party incident. After all, she was not the only one fleeing that scene and had no previous record with the RSB. Possible? Sure. Certain? Not exactly. What was she supposed to do – traipse into a precinct and ask? Overcome with dread, Kinsa tries to piece together the ‘how’ and ‘why’ of things. It is not like she was fucked up at the time. No underlying medical condition she was aware of. Those hours are simply gone. What she said or did during that time is completely lost to her.

The following day, the stranger finally makes contact through a mutual friend. He would deliver instructions to meet within the week. She is relieved, grateful he is not dead or worse. She would be able to meet with Selene and explain what they believed happened. These thoughts almost distract her from the alert – a message from Kaytt. She is staring down at the console in her living room one minute and the next standing in front of Kaytt’s door. Startled, she realizes she has changed outfits as well as location. She now wears a slender black jumpsuit, gloves, an asymmetrical coat with a high neckline, and a black purse slung over her shoulder. Kinsa has absolutely no idea how she ended up here. Less than an hour has passed but that provides little comfort.

She knows something is wrong. Something is very, very wrong but she needs to be there for her friend. She raps on the door and Kaytt ushers her inside where a CorSec agent waits with two packed bags. She glances from the bags to Kaytt with her face creasing softly in concern.

“What is going on?”

“I have to leave Chandaar.”

“Why? Did something happen?”

“Yes.”

“Kaytt, you are scaring me,” she says in a tone much calmer than she feels. “Is this about the Senator?”

“It is about the Republic as a whole. The path to justice is unclear and so I must go to regroup and strategize the next move. I cannot do so safely if I remain. You have risked a lot in the past few weeks and so I did not want to leave without presenting you with a choice - come with me where you will be protected or disavow me publicly so you can free yourself from the association.”

“That’s not…”

“Counselor,” Agent Inchaite warns sharply, signifying their rapidly diminishing timeline.

Considering what little she was told about the extraction operation; they would not have long before the RSB came looking for her at the hospital then here. Without the Senator in custody, she would be their next target. One more thing to leverage on their path to complete tyranny.

“There is no time, Kinsa. Stay or go?”

She takes a breath and locks eyes with her friend, “I do not want you to go but I understand why you must. The Republic is broken and The Concealed is losing the war against their oppressors. I must stay here and keep fighting in secret. Now that I know what I know, I will use my position for good. I am sorry that I existed in such ignorance for so long. If we do not stop what is happening, all the risks we have taken will be for nothing. This is bigger than us. I see that now.”

Kaytt is pleased. It is a selfless choice, finally, but one that puts her in greater danger than she may realize. Still, it is a choice that she made on her own, despite any prior avoidance of the realities of their circumstances. She is correct that it transcends both of them. They are merely tools through which the truth will be set free.

“Be well, my dear friend. May we meet again.”

Kinsa embraces her tightly before heading for the door. It would probably be best for everyone if she was not discovered here. Even though it will pain her, it would be easier to distance herself from everything if she was elsewhere claiming ignorance. Being who the public needs her to be; a vapid celebrity whose publically displayed privilege they could escape through. It is not beyond the RSB to try and make her an accessory, painting her as an accomplice in Kaytt’s escape. She would be ready for that. Kaytt watches her go with a heavy heart but then she stops suddenly in the small foyer.

She does not turn around, body rigid and eerily motionless.

“Kinsa? Kinsa, what is wrong?”

In a highly dexterous move, she reaches into her purse to withdraw a blaster and turns sharply to fire on Agent Inchaite. They are tactically mortal shots. He is down before he can even reach for his own weapon, leaving Kaytt stunned and exposed. Kinsa’s face is a stoic mask of determination, an expression she heard described to her in great detail. It is the same look Janessa claimed Vex Sienna had when he attacked her, transforming from someone she thought she knew into a vicious killer. Now, Kinsa appears compromised too. A well-played hand if she ever saw one. Although she is desperate to know who has done this and how they could have possibly moved all these pieces so delicately into place, she does not ask. Why bother? She knows how this will end, the irony of her journey from trauma to suicide attempt back to the civil rights warrior of their time not lost on her.

“This really is bigger than us. Bigger than anyone thought.”

Without so much as a trace of emotion, Kinsa trains the blaster on Kaytt.

“You have no idea.”

The headshot kills her instantly and she drops like a rag doll beside the fallen agent. Kinsa places the blaster back in her purse, stashes the two bags in Kaytt’s closet, and, returning to the living room, steps over the bodies to plant a small cam on the credenza angled against the far wall. Outside the flat, the door at the end of the hall crashes open followed by the synchronized thud of approaching footsteps heralding the arrival of the RSB. She slips out onto the small patio and pulls the slider closed behind her. Gripping the circular railing with one hand, Kinsa leaps up and over into space beyond. She lands in a speeder waiting just below. Quinn Cavanaugh, wearing an equally placid expression, is at the controls. She does not even acknowledge her sister and angles the speeder down and away from the residence tower, rejoining a busy traffic lane winding through the city.

Led by an enraged Director Laird Drakos for his failure in the Senator’s escape, the RSB unit storms the Counselor’s flat with what is known as an announcement-waived warrant. The Director would punish the Counselor for the Senator’s misdeeds, bursting into the residence with a smattering of blaster fire. Their motion activates the cam, blaster bolts blindingly bright, as Drakos emerges through the smoke to loom over both Kaytt and Agent Inchaite’s dead bodies.

Everything perfectly in the frame.

*

Serinus

With a clueless Quinn safely ensconced back at The Menagerie, Kinsa uses a public terminal to slice her way into Kaytt’s building cams and dumps any evidence of her presence. She keeps that of the RSB’s forced entry, splicing it together with the photage from inside the flat before blasting it out onto a channel frequently monitored by The Concealed. One of the larger networks would pick it up quickly with reporters from all corners of the galaxy gearing up for a pontification showdown rife with biased conjecture and wild speculation. As far as The Concealed is concerned, Director Drakos would now be separatist enemy number one and even those on the fence about his rumored ruthless tactics will struggle to justify these actions. There is also the timing to consider as her death follows so closely on the heels of the Solem, Lancing, Wray, and Corinthos firm massacre. RSB optics are not what one would call optimal.

The condemnation and spin will surely be swift and colorful.

*

Downtown

Cut to Kinsa on her own sofa, legs pulled up beneath her with Quinn draped in a throw blanket and mindlessly chewing on a strand of platinum blonde hair. A sitcom rerun about a corporate yet comically grumpy Trandoshan plays on the Holo. She sees the darkened skyline beyond the window, eyes darting to the chronometer on the wall. Another two hours have gone.

Nothing about this is right.

“How…did you get here?”

Her sister lazily angles her head in Kinsa’s direction, “Um, you, like, called me over to watch a movie but I am still waiting for you to pick one. I could be making out with Quentin right now.”

“Where were you before, when I, uh, called you?”

“My room. In the Menagerie,” Quinn says, visibly annoyed. “Why?”

“No, no this…this cannot be…this….”

The sitcom is interrupted by a news report. A breaking story. Kinsa claws at the fabric, unable to look away, as photage of what appears to be RSB Director Laird Drakos murdering Counselor Kaytt Corinthos and a CorSec agent plays. It is intentionally graphic and jarring with the network sparring no visual. A commentator makes the obvious link to the attack on her firm, posing it as a menacing question aimed at anyone tuning in. There is a flush of panic as she rises from the sofa struggling to breathe. She remembers being with Kaytt…then she was here. How and when did this happen? Kaytt was supposed to be leaving, headed somewhere she would be safe. Where was she when all of this happened? How could she have left her to die there? Quinn lets out a lugubrious sigh. 

“Super bummer. Drinks?”

Emotionally out of control with hot tears streaming down her cheeks, Kinsa sinks to her knees and screams.






-TBC

[Syren]

“Ghosts circle my room
Specter that looms from you, unsleeping
Your voice, echo the noise
Sing me a siren song, mislead me.”

-Kaskade & The Moth & The Flame

Chandaar: Republic Capital
 
Surface: Ambaril
 
Quentin Swire is in hell.
 
Bereft over Dahlia’s death, traumatized by the events on Hesperidium the previous summer, and remanded to the Republic capital, the secret Imperial agent is in class one day and covering up gruesome murders the next. Assassinations and strategic strikes abound; all in the name of further weakening the Republic from within. And it is working. A little too well if the extreme partisanship across multiple fronts is any indication. Diplomacy has long since given way to divisiveness with rational facts falling beside feeling and fiery convictions. The way Quentin figures, if he is going to be the Empire’s resident flunky, he may as well get an education out of it. He should take comfort in the fact that he has Quinn by his side but she could turn on him at any moment. There is a tense and erotic thrill to the dark technology coursing through her body, always ready and waiting to act when the situation requires it. He considers the potential details, often imagining the how and when of it all. She could end his life without so much as smudging that carefully applied eyeliner. Any movement she makes could be the beginning of his end and there is nothing Quentin can do about it.

Now they have Kinsa too.

The Cavanaugh sisters are officially Imperial assets and he is tasked with concealing their various misdeeds on their behalf. One of the most recent was overseeing a cleaning team to dispose of an RSB agents’ body while Kinsa showered obliviously before heading out to dinner. They were going to drag her in and use her as leverage against that lightning rod of a Counselor. She is too valuable to be sidelined and so she was activated to handle the issue. Quentin was called in to cover it all up from the body to the flat to the security cams. As far as anyone else knows, that RSB agent never even made it to Kinsa’s building and she came and went without incident. They did not send another agent to follow up and they likely will not be considering how everything played out afterward. If he is being completely honest with himself, there is a macabre curiosity to see how far down the hole this actually goes. No real worries about being in too deep, there is no soul left to save. He did not inquire as to how they managed to brazenly secure Kinsa and it does not really matter. From what he has seen, the Empire is in full control of this narrative.

Since the Corinthos story broke, the signature Republic security organization is under extreme pressure from all sides. The vid was damning enough with Director Drakos charging into a private citizen’s residence without announcing himself while blasting away recklessly. No wonder people wound up dead and those victims happened to be a CorSec agent and the Counselor in question – both Corellia and her recently-slain firm at the center of the FURA fight. But he knows that is not the whole story. He had plans with Quinn when she was activated and so he followed her, watching at a distance as she eased a speeder up the side of Kaytt Corinthos’ building. A few moments later, Kinsa leaped off the balcony and they raced off together only for Quinn to casually call him later as if nothing had happened. Once he saw the story on the Holo, he knew they had set the RSB up to take that fall. It will be interesting to see how it shakes out. Further inciting public violence would continue to escalate the frayed tension but the Empire always there, carefully moving pieces into place.

After an extended absence, Barrett is back, doing Maker knows what in the Senate. Hustling those deals while Quentin plays student and tries to manage the blonde destroyer and her equally destructive sister. They all have parts to play. Barrett walks a fine line by maintaining the need for the strong security the truce provides while casting doubt on the dubious actions Republic leadership has taken to accomplish it. He has not reached out but that is to be expected. There are more reasons than his cover identity in the Republic capital that would keep Barrett at a distance. He broke the bro code even though he feels Barrett never deserved Dahlia. She was far too good for him, had too much potential to be limited by such a dunce. He would never have embraced her darkness the way he could have if only given a real chance.

Now neither of them would have her and they both have to live with that.

*

The confusion and grief are palpable, stinging and strangling every sense.

Losing time, lapses in her memory; clearly, the stress was getting to her. Kinsa does not know what to do or how to rationalize the situation. She would normally turn to Janessa for guidance but, if she is working under some dark power, then she is entirely alone here. The thought is sobering and a situation she has never found herself in before. Ever. Being alone. Her fellow industry pals and celebrity hangers-on cannot help her now. Even Quinn was annoyingly flip. She expected more from her own sister, despite her nonchalance toward the more uncomfortable aspects of life. Modeling seems to have dulled her empathy although she has never really been all that great at relating. All Kinsa knows is that she is spiraling and she needs something or someone to ground her.

She frantically seeks out the stranger who finally agrees to meet. He is sympathetic but skeptical of the situation, considering her a potential liability with her proximity to the victim and identification by the RSB at the warehouse. She tells him they discovered their friend was compromised, possibly by a Force user, who intercepted and erased the evidence they needed to reveal the potential complicity of the RSB. Kaytt believed her more susceptible given her history which means The Concealed was right. Someone is pushing all the right buttons. The RSB may have eliminated the firm then the Counselor as means to silence their largest procedural critics. The Corellian Senator’s apprehension only adds to the theory. Without anyone to publicly and legally challenging them, the Senate is clear to proceed as they so choose. While she is crushed by Kaytt’s murder, she just needs to know how she can help. This is a cause worth fighting for.

Kinsa asks to see Selene again but he is reluctant. He knows she is angry and suffering. The stranger does not wish her further harm.

“Please,” she says tearfully. “I have no one else to turn to.”

After a while, he nods.

“Okay. Let me see what I can do.”

*

Through the doors of a dark, no-name bar, Laird Drakos stumbles out into a filthy, deserted ally.

He is wasted but trying to keep a low profile, knowing that censure and shaming are coming. What follows is likely the end of the road to his storied career in law enforcement. He handed Speaker Leeds the confirmation they were looking for – admission of Corellian conspiracy with the Jedi in violation of the FURA – but they would disavow him. Canceled by his very own even though their suspicions were true. They had always been true. Soldys was fucked and that bitch lawyer would not have a legal leg to stand on. Corellia, the traitor. They and the individuals they protect are a threat to everything they stand for. He is outraged over the blatant hypocrisy, wasting all that time trying to get into the Republic only to turn around and squander the greatest opportunity. They are a part of something incredible, a galaxy as peaceful and secure as it has ever been. Corellian’s have always been stubborn but their message and actions now border on sedition as other systems join their objections in the Senate chambers and on the Holo. They would pay. The whole lot of them. But first, Drakos must be the public sacrifice for their cause, a martyr for those fighting against Force users. It is a mantle he is proud to carry.

Something stirs ahead, drawing his attention. There is a girl, human in a tight black dress and too-high heels, probably freezing in this weather and clinging to the wall for dear life. He smiles luridly, making his way over. May as well get his dick wet one last time before the inevitable shitstorm he and the RSB will face hits. He approaches from behind, taking in the strands of long blonde hair, nearly white, as they slip over her shoulder.

“Hey there, little lady. Looks like you could use a hand.”

A small giggle rises into the air as she sags against the dingy duracrete defaced with colorful graffiti, only turning when he is standing over her. Her face comes into focus with a flicker of recognition.

“Wait,” he slurs, smile widening. “Aren’t you that-”

*

Later, a pair of scuzzy lowlifes stumble out into that same ally looking for trouble.

And they sure find it a few feet away. Something or someone seemingly in a bad way. They move closer, slowly but sloppily, and peer through the uneven lighting until they realize it is a person. A human male, by the looks of it, on his knees in a pool of something dark. One of them slips in it, awkwardly pitching forward onto the ground. He rolls over and groans when the other one sees how intensely red that liquid is against his comrade’s clothing and skin. That is when he spots the wound, the man’s neck slashed clean open. He is clearly dead, face covered by the blank, white mask of The Concealed, and they are freaking the fuck out.

On the wall behind and above him, written crudely in his own blood, the words; We Will Not Be Silenced






-TBD

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

To say Chandaar was in chaos would be an understatement.  There was a feeling of unraveling, and every day, things were getting worse.

After the footage of RSB murdering attorney Kyatt Corinthos, protests broke out throughout the capital and other major cities.  Some were organized by members of The Concealed, but others were ordinary citizens, who suddenly had awoken to the dangers of the Republic Security Bureau and the power they had.

RSB themselves couldn't manage to make a coherent response, making a lame statement that the video footage "did not accurately depict the events"  No one bought it.  Certainly not those who already saw RSB as an instrument of government oppression, but even some who had supported the Force User Registration Act and critical of Corellia's opposition.  Senators from across the spectrum were calling to investigate Corinthos' murder.

There was a brief attempt by the Bureau to declare that Corinthos has been a seditionist, working with Corellians to free the "traitor" Artemis Soldys - but of course, declaring the person they allegedly killed was a criminal didn't help their image.  Rumors were rampant that Laird Drakos was either going to resign or be fired.  It was a matter of when the announcement would be made, how high profile it should be.  Speaker Leeds made a semi-coherent statement, arguing that above all, the Republic needed to maintain order in the face of the events.  No, he didn't take questions.  Probably because he didn't have any answers.

Then everything changed again:  Laird Drakos was found dead, gruesomely, and with a message drawn in blood.  Now it was the Concealed who had gone too far.  And their own statement denying any involvement in his death was just as unbelievable as RSB's claim they hadn't killed Kyatt Corinthos.

The investigation into RSB had morphed into an investigation into RSB's director's murder; Leeds wanted to use this to go after the Concealed, but support for him was faltering.  Even on the senate floor, chaos had seeped in.  As Leeds was attempting to call the session to order, the back and forth chattering refused to cease.  It took a long, long time before he had everyone's attention.

Leeds, of course, constantly had his own demons and nightmares, ones that never seemed to escape him.  His eyes flickered to where the Corellian delegation usually sat.  Now, it was empty and dark, as it had been since Soldys was stripped of his speaking privileges.

"Senators - we are here today to address the distressing events of the past few weeks, and to make a path forward, for the good of the Republic.  This started with Senator Soldys' "

Before Leeds could say another word, he was interrupted by shouts of protest against Soldys' charges.  Then more shouts calling Artemis a traitor.

"Senators!  Senators, please!"

It was no use. Nothing was working.  There were riots in the street: pro-corellia, pro-RSB, pro-concealed, pro-force users, pro-FURA.  Or more accurately, groups that were anti every conceivable category.  anti-corellia, anti-republic.  Down with everyone.  

The senate couldn't function.  He needed to gain support for or against something.  Leeds was at a loss.  Until recently, he had been able to sway public opinion and most senators to his cause.  Finally, he took a drastic measure, one he would later realize was a mistake.

He cut off the microphones.

The senate was a massive chamber, and shouts echoing everywhere made it impossible to speak.  But now, everyone eles's voices were echoes.   His was the only one that was loud and clear.  And now that he had the only pulpit, he had to do the only thing he could think of.  Show he was in charge.

"As I was saying - the events of the past few weeks began long ago with the seditious acts of Senator Artemis Soldys and the worlds he represented - the Corellian Sector.  His guilt  was confirmed by his escape, too scared to face the evidence at trial.  RSB was investigating that escape when they learned that Kyatt Corinthos was a co-conspirator.  That Corinthos was killed before she could be questioned is regrettable, but not the fault of the RSB.  Rather, all evidence shows that the Concealed were behind her death and that of Director Laird Drakos, in an effort to bolster their opinion.  Let me make it clear: The Republic will not tolerate terrorism, and it will not tolerate treason.  We will investigate these matters until the truth is revealed and the appropriate people are brought to justice."

Leeds was hoping for a round of applause, or some sign of support.  What he got though was an incredulous silence.

When the mikes were turned back on, that's when things got worse.

"If this is the way the Republic responds to an internal scandal, then perhaps its time for new leadership"
"Or perhaps the Republic has gotten too bloated with self importance. We demand an independent investigation into RSB"
"And into the Speaker's office!"

It wasn't everyone.  There was no vast majority - but it was enough that Leeds realized he had overplayed his hand.

And in the coming days, more and more senators were calling for an independent investigation - one not handled by RSB or the speaker's office itself.  Leeds may have still had supporters in the senate, but they were associating with his handling right now.

What was worse, every time he returned to his office, he felt assured he was doing the right thing.  Ordering more troops and officers out to crack down on protests.  It was like a voice in his head telling him to keep going.
And over the coming days, what once had been a position of power, felt more and more like a lonely precipice. 


There was nowhere to turn.

Leeds was brooding in his office when his dark thoughts were interrupted by a chime at his office door.

"Come in"

In stepped Barrett Trevaithan, ambassador from the Galactic Empire.  He bore a confident smile on his face as he approached the speaker's desk.

"Mr. Speaker.  I believe I can help you out of your predicament."

TBC