CC: Circle of Freedom

[Medivh]

Bastion Deep Space

Jedi Master Agnant stood at the monitor's status as the fleet entered hyperspace for the jump to Bastion.  Just another minute or so before they would reach the target.

But then, the proximity alarm started going off, and the ship lurched.

"What's happened?"
"Sir, we are being pulled out of hyperspace"

Agnant's body stiffened.  "Where?"

"navigational controls indicate we are in Deep Space of the Bastion system.  Scanners are receiving interference, but we are getting visual reads of the surrounding area."

"Have all ships report in - what happened?"

"Sir, visual reads are showing a large imperial fleet closing in on us.  They are opening fire"

"Raise shields, deploy fighter screens, and counter attack."

That was about all the time there was before space became a heated battlefield.  It was several minutes into the fighting that the exact circumstances of the situation were finally clear.

The advance fleet, led by Captain Fletcher, had been destroyed, apparently just after they sent the go ahead signal.  A series of small artificial gravity wells had been created around the deep space zone, which pulled the republic main fleet out of hyperspace, into the hands of the waiting imperials.

The fleets had been similar in size and strength, but the empire had the element of surprise, and utilized that to get a strong first round of fire.  republic cruisers were showing more damage than their imperial counterparts.

"Sir, we've run several battle algorithms.  Even if we win the battle, our fleet will be severely weakened. We won't be able to hit Bastion, and if the Empire had reinforcements, it could force us back significantly."

"We have to end this battle as soon as possible.  Order fighter squadrons to target and destroy the sources of those gravity well projections"

"Yes sir"

Agnant stared out the viewscreen, hoping it would happen in enough time.


TBC

[Medivh]

Bastion Deep Space

Each moment of the battle weighed heavily on Jedi Master Agnant, not only because he could feel the deaths of his troops through the force. It had been his plan to attack Bastion, and thus this was his failure.  Where had he gone wrong? Where had the Empire gotten their information from?

There would be time enough for that later - hopefully.  Reports were constantly coming in of the attrition being suffered.  And unlike Imperials, the Republic cared when their troops died.

"Any word on those gravity wells"

"We are receiving the first reports now, sir.  The source of the gravity wells are consistent with Trade Federation gravity well nets"

Master Agnant thought back several months to the imperial attack and surprising withdrawal from the Besh Gorgon system.  Had they left because they got what they came for?

"I thought they couldn't be hacked into"

It was true - the Federation's gravity wel nets were designed to avoid being captured.  But perhaps the Empire had gotten them before that fail-safe was in place.

"Destroy them.  All of them."

It was costly - having ships targeting defenseless platforms instead of fighting the Empire, and the Empire took further advantage of that.

What was worse, after the first several platforms were destroyed, new gravity well projections appeared, interspersed throughout the area.

"Sir, they've activated more of the nets"

"Order the fleet to move as far out as possible.  Every capital ship is to enter hyperspace as soon as possible.  All fighters are to cover us."

"We are retreating?"

The ship shook as if in response.

"Shields are gone sir.  We are taking damage to the hull"

Agnant nodded.

"Yes - pull out. everyone, everything.  Have our ship take the rear, and fire everything we've got.  Exhaust the projectile supply.  If we don't survive, it won't matter havng them left over anyhow"

The Republic fleet, in more or less disarray moved further away from the planet, toward the edge of the quadrant, where it was clear of gravity wells, Agnant's vessel reporting more and more damage as it took the brunt of the imperial attack.

"Ship integrity is suffering sir"

"Thank you, lieutenant - order personnel away from the outer hull, and divert controls directly to the bridge.  Once that's done, have continuous fire"

More shaking, more bursts of flames.  Up ahead, one by one, republic ships, battered and bruised disappeared, as the dogfight between fighters continued to rage on.

Finally,

"Sir, we've cleared the gravity well"
"order all remaining fighters to enter hyperspace - once the order is given, enter as well"
"Yes sir"

With a heavy heart, Master Agnant sat down, watching as they slipped into the sanctuary of hyperspace.

"Now what, sir?  Is that the end of the assault?"

Agnant shook his head.

"No - I'm afraid that was just the beginning."

TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

News of the disastrous battle in Bastion Deep Space did not take long to reach the capital, and spread among politicians, news/gossip organizations, and the public.  The dislike of force users, the jedi most notable among them, had already been growing steadily.  But with the jedi responsible for leading the debacle, overt hatred sprang up.  Protests began outside of the Senate Building, calling for the expulsion of jedi from not just Chandaar, but all of the Republic.

Senator Artemis Soldys had called for an immediate meeting with Circe Prescott, his ally in fighting the Force User Registration Act, and they were meeting in his office within the senate building.

Circe was looking out the window, down some thirty stories, at the crowd below.

"This is bad"
Artemis was still seated at his desk.

"It's only going to get worse.  That entire battle plan was arranged by Jedi Master Agnant.  His own jedi were dispersed in the fleet.  It was an overly bold risk to take, and there are multiple reports in the logs that captains - some who have survived, and some who haven't - protested the action, deeming it fool hearty and reckless.  Captain Fletcher in particular filed several reports with the senate in opposition to the maneuver."

Circe turned away from the window.

"Where did you get the reports?"
"They were declassified for republic personnel.  About an hour ago."

Circe's eyes narrowed.
"By whom?"
"Speaker Apteen.  He indicated that in light of what happened, the senators should be made aware of the previously classified concerns about the jedi master in command"

"So basically, he's asking for someone to come out against the jedi.  He used to be more reasonable than this."
"We cannot count on the speaker that used to be.  Right now he is too popular to try to vote out, and too dangerous to outright go against"
"You are"

"I'm not - I'm fighting legislation by other senators, but I'm afraid of what it would mean for Corellia if we questioned the Speaker's motives.  We need to round up allies, and fast."

Circe turned back to the window.

"How much time do you think we have?"

"With the public the way it is - and it's going to get worse, not better - there will be legislation out within the week."

"So we're already out of time for a law that doesn't even exist yet"

"Now you understand why I hate politics"

TBC

[Syren]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

The Naboo royal cruiser flares out of hyperspace above the bustling capital. Garron has keyed up the codes and transmits them when asked by Republic central command. The executives as VMG have taken care of all the clearances needed. One does not want to mentally tax the models too terribly much, he supposes. Dahlia is much cleverer but he is too preoccupied at the moment to wonder about her schemes.

The headlines would draw unnecessary attention to everyone, including back in the Corporate Sector. Lady Masterton would keep Gemma close but Dane, who is on Etti IV for the summer, will certainly be sought after by the press. Lord Gellar would have his swarms of security keep them at bay. Here it is just him to shield Dahlia from the storm despite her assurances that VMG would provide ample security of their own. He cannot even imagine what the press is going to say about this. They will have a field day, for sure. A new Four can mean many things to many people. Some will see credit signs everywhere while others will take it as an omen and want to stop it as quickly as possible. Either way, it leaves Garron feeling unsettled.

He follows the coordinates provided by Escara Wu but catches sight of a hoard of people waiting near the designated landing pad. It is too late to abort and so he sets the ship down. He thought this was supposed to be a secure location then thinks perhaps Ms. Wu tipped off the press herself. Anger swells but he clips his blaster to the thick black belt and stomps toward the ramp.

Dahlia passes casually, completely done up in a short Chiffon dress in a darker, rustic green with embellishments. Her crimson hair is down and tousled with touches of darker lipstick and smoky hues around her eyes.

Garron stares at her, arms out in disbelief.

"You knew this was going to happen?"

She makes a face.

"It's called publicity, Gar. It's how you build a brand. Just because I'm young doesn't mean I don't grasp these very basic marketing concepts. Maker Almighty, lighten up."

He groans and slams his fist against the controls. The ramp lowers and people begin shouting her name. Dahlia squares her shoulders and places one strappy heel in front of the other while slipping on a pair of shades. She walks right down into it all.

Flashes explode from every direction as she smiles, turns and pouts.

Garron hangs back, watching from the top of the ramp with a mixed sense of amusement and disgust. He knows this is in her blood, the vapid, attention-seeking self-absorption. He just never expected it to come quite as naturally as it seems to. She had been a bit of a handful growing up but it was only in the last year or so that her Winton heritage really reared its head. As Dahlia basks in the glow, Garron sighs and hates to admit that she was born for this sort of thing. Would she use this fame for good or evil?

Garron has serious doubts about any altruistic intentions the princess may have.

That's when he tunes in to the questions being hurled her way. People ask about the Patten boy, if she knew, what this means, how being called The New Four is going to affect her and her family. He bounds down the ramp and steps in front of her.

"Alright, that's enough."

He forgets his face is not unfamiliar to them either considering his sister, Circe, was part of the biggest murder trials of the decade. A trial Dahlia had essentially saved her from. His name is murmured through the crowd followed by questions on his new role and presence on the capital.

"We have no comment."

This is said sternly and with a sincere authority that surprises even him. He takes her arm and makes a path through the crowd. She moves as directed, past the throng of hungry press with a stoic Georgie following behind. They disappear into the first building, finding the sudden, stark silence startling.

"What a rush, right?"

"That was ridiculous," Garron quips, halting her. "You knew about the Patten boy."

"I can read, thank you. It's not like I spent the entire trip primping in my chambers. I wanted to see what was happening in the capital before we arrived. From the looks of things, it's not great. It's better to be prepared so I wouldn't be caught off guard. Surprise is not an expression that looks good on camera."

"This is serious, Dahlia. His existence could mean a shift in public opinion, even yours."

She smirks, "Not if I shift it elsewhere first."

His eyes widen but before he can speak, they are interrupted by a gorgeous blonde in a shimmering slip dress she is far too young to be wearing.

"Are...you the princess?"

Dahlia turns, a smooth yet practiced gesture.

"Why, yes. I am.

She curtsies flawlessly and smiles, "Hi! I'm Quinn."

"It's lovely to meet you, Quinn. I'm Dahlia and this is Garron and Georgie. Muscle, you know. One can never be too careful."

"I saw," Quinn says, nervously glancing behind them. "Scary. Ms. Wu is very particular on proximity. It's strictly look but don't touch."

"I should hope so," Garron mutters.

Dahlia throws him a look.

Quinn beams, extending a hand which Dahlia takes.

"I'll show you around."

The girls walk briskly down the hall with Georgie hovering a comfortable distance behind. Garron reluctantly follows, carefully considering her angle. Dahlia is well educated and sly but the whole production of their arrival reeks of professional orchestration. He wonders just how trustworthy Escara Wu and the executives of VMG really are and if they have Dahlia's best interests in mind. Or it could be Dahlia used this all to her advantage. Make an unforgettable entrance at exactly a time where her name and that of the other three would be on the lips of everyone. It's so calculating it's almost brilliant. Leverage a revelation about someone else as it directly relates to her. Chances are Dahlia is the first one of The New Four anyone had a chance to interact with after the story broke.

There is no way they would be able to get to Gemma, Dane or Riley. They would be immediately shielded from this kind of circus. But not Dahlia. She was already on her way to Chandaar, a scheduled visit, most likely leaked by someone within VMG, to test the waters of the fashion world. This ensured she would make a splash, garnering exactly the type of publicity company's would kill for. He remembers how calm she seemed on the cruiser after they landed, all made up and ready to shine. She knew it was going to be a madhouse. She knew this was her way into this world.

So Garron really has to wonder….who's playing who?


-TBC

[Syren]

"Explosions on TV
And all the girls with heads
Inside a dream."

-Lorde

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril: Serinus

Serinus, otherwise known as the Garment District, lies seven kilometers northwest from the center of Ambaril. This is where the studio's, warehouses and corporate headquarters for the Republic labels all reside. Imported fabrics from other planets all pass through to be bought and sold by the next up-and-coming designer. The major houses parade models into the studios for fittings and shoots before the runway shows twice a year. Fashion is a quiet yet extremely lucrative industry in the capital that has considerable influence over many systems throughout the Republic and beyond.

The Menagerie is a brilliant, shimmering tower in the core of Serinus that houses the talent VMG represents along with their corporate offices just above the main lobby. Several stories up, on a secure floor stationed with silent yet heavily armed guards, is where Quinn Cavanaugh shows Dahlia Winton their sleeping quarters. VMG does not skimp on the perks for their clients, especially the most profitable ones. Quinn is two years older than Dahlia but has already made a name for herself. It helps that she comes from a high profile hotelier family which made her fore into modeling that much more interesting. People already followed the Cavanaugh brand and Quinn has appeared in many of their promotional materials and advertisements. She is the face of their loyalty and rewards program and has done work for several of the most prominent designers.

Unfortunately, Quinn's mother is dead, her father is always off on another world closing a development deal, and her sister, Kinsa, is too busy with her own career as a socialite and media fixture. Dahlia's arrival could not have come at a better time. She cannot stand the tedious banter of the other models that are so dense they sometimes need to be reminded to breathe. Dahlia is intriguing and mysterious, a true royal and survivor of some pretty horrific stuff.

"Do you like it?"

Dahlia moves around the huge space, twirling.

"No, love. I love it. This is all for us?"

"Yes," Quinn says. "They want us to be happy."

Garron frowns.

"Who's "they"?""

She turns, shrugging.

"Management?"

"Is….that a question?"

"Oh, leave her alone, Garron. We don't want to overwhelm her. This mood-killer is Garron Prescott, an associate of my father's."

"Prescott….I think your sister knows my sister."

He narrows his eyes, "I doubt it."

Dahlia shakes her head and motions to the agent.

"And this is Georgie. No last name. Just Georige. We find it much scarier that way."

"I agree," Quinn says. "He's terrifying."

"Isn't he though? It's adorable."

Georgie sets her luggage down near a bureau and returns to his post at the door. Garron sighs, crossing his arms.

"I think I should have a word with this manager of yours. What's her name?"

Quinn nods, flipping white-blond hair off her shoulder.

"Escara Wu. I can call her for you."

"Please do."

She moves to a consol on the wall and speaks in a hushed tone Garron finds irritating before turning back to them.

"She's in her office downstairs. Level three."

"Stay put," he instructs as he heads past Georgie to the lifts.

Dahlia throws out her arms, "Where am I going to go?"

"Nowhere, that's where."

*

The lift doors open to a sparsely lit corridor with deep purple walls and charcoal gray trim. There are mirrors of varying shapes and sizes lining the walls which he glances in as he passes. He assumes this is an ego thing since their clients are most likely just as shallow as Dahlia pretends to be. He follows the hall until he comes to a corner office with the initials E.W. in bold letters on the door which hisses open before he can even knock.

Escara Wu is petite and gorgeous, rising from the chair behind her massive desk with a sensual authority. She smiles tightly as she looks him over.

"Well, well, Garron Prescott. Your photage doesn't do you justice."

"I would be flattered but you saw me on D'ian."

"Briefly," she says dismissively. "I was there for a specific purpose."

"To recruit Dahlia. I was there."

"This upsets you?"

"The madhouse upstairs, when we landed, that upsets me. We were given assurances this was a highly secure location not one where random reporters wander in and out whenever they damn well please. Surely you know what's she's been through."

She rounds the desk but leans against the front with her arms placed firmly on either side of her body.

"The princess was abducted from her own residence, a residence you are responsible for keeping secure, so I must ask – where were you when this all went down? The white knight routine didn't save her then. What makes you think it will save her now? Dahlia freed herself from the clutches of that sociopath - not her father, not his agents, not you."

Escara's smile becomes a scowl with an uncomfortable ease.

"The media was only allowed access to the landing pad after being thoroughly vetted and submitting to a rather invasive search. They showed true dedication to their work to jump through those kinds of hoops just for a chance to speak with Dahlia. It serves as a testament to her capacity as both a model and a powerful brand. You see, mister Prescott, the world is divided into two groups. The cool kids and, well, everyone else. People try to tell you this is just a phase, something everyone is subjected to in school but in reality the social hierarchy exists well into adulthood where the beautiful and special are rewarded while the others are left to envy and aspire. Inspiring envy in others means you are winning and that's who we represent here. The winners. So try not to worry that finely chiseled head of yours. We'll take good care of her while she's our guest."

Garron scoffs, "That's quite a philosophy you have there."

"I like to think so."

"There's a hole in your theory though."

She arches a brow, "Oh?"

"While she may be beautiful and special, Dahlia is also a Winton. The stories you read, the images you've seen, none of it compares to the spectacular horror of those who barely escaped endured while caught in their web. Karen was a model too and the blood-sucking marketing executive trying to pull those strings wound up exploding all over Galactic City before the destruction of Coruscant finished off what was left on the brand. So, if you think you can control a Winton, you've got another thing coming."

Escara holds his gaze.

"I'll take my chances."

Garron smirks.

"Don't say I didn't warn you. Goodnight, Miss Wu."

He leaves her office briskly, hoping his words broke through the vicious exterior she presents. She may talk a good game and may even believe it but if he were her, he would be wondering what the chances that history will repeat itself. He shutters while fumbling for his com-link to try Mara again. Nothing. He has not been able to reach her at all for a while now. Has she forgotten the connection they had, the time spent together, the kiss they shared? He considers calling the CorSec Director just to make sure she is okay but feels that may be pushing it. Mara is a highly capable woman who can take care of herself but would it kill her to reach out, especially in the wake of these revelations about Riley's true identity? It is something she confessed has haunted her Riley's whole life as the promise she made to Kimber hangs in the balance with the public knowledge that he made it off the station alive. There are so many questions, too many angles to cover. He wishes he could help with some of that burden but perhaps she doesn't want that. Maybe she doesn't feel for him at all. Was it all in his head? It's not like he has a shortage of available women. He just wants Mara.

The com bleeps in his hands.

Speaking of women…

"Janessa," he says lowly. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Saw you on the news. Looking good. I didn't know you played bodyguard to dangerous teenagers. That must be a new addition to your list of duties."

"It was a personal favor to Lady Masterton."

"With good reason," Janessa says. "I saw Dahlia on the report as well and I have to say…"

"She plays the part well."

"Un-believe. She was dazzling."

"And her new pals at VMG stand to make a fortune from it. You should have heard this executive. Talk about delusional. She doesn't know what she's getting into."

"She will soon enough."

"I suppose you had a reason to call."

"I need reasons now? However, there was a point I was getting to. Your sister is in some serious shit but I'm running late. Meet me tonight?"

"Janessa," he warns.

"At a party, Garron. Relax, I never sleep with the same man twice. Well, seldom. Leave the girl wonder in the clutches of those executives and come blow off some steam. It sounds like you could use it. Besides, we can talk there."

"What kind of party?"

"An industry function, lots of corporate representatives networking and congratulating each other on their successes. You have CSA interests so you won't be out of place."

He groans, "Where?"

"Five Points, a bar called Spectre. Why, where are you?"

"Serinus."

"Fancy," she says. "Be there at eight."

She clicks off before he can object. Garron heads back upstairs to find Dahlia and Quinn in robes getting ready for massages.

"Seriously?"

"What are you, like, the fun police? It's part of the package. We get pampered whenever we want."

"It's nice to know they are instilling realistic expectations in their clients. I need to go out for a while."

"Is that what you are wearing?"

"No, I was planning on….not the point! Think you can stay out of trouble for a few hours?"

Quinn looks confused, "Probably?"

"We'll be asleep before you get back. Right, Georgie?"

Georgie makes what they think is a nod but could have been a neck spasm.

"Go, have fun."

He reluctantly heads back to his modest accommodations to shower and change before heading out into Ambaril. The speeder-cab leaves Serinus and heads through downtown. He wonders what Circe is up to now. Before she left the Sector, she claimed she was heading back to fight the injustice of the F.U.R.A.. He had heard reports about riots and protests that clashed with the RSB as the issue has divided the population. He only hopes Circe hasn't done anything that may jeopardize her freedom after she had won it back after the trial.

Garron stares out into the city, the giant swirling capital of complexity and confusion, hoping they had not made a mistake in coming here.


-TBC

[Syren]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril: Spectre Club

Five Points is an area of Ambaril where five Burroughs literally intersect into a hive of music, arts and culture. The Spectre Club is one of the oldest in the city and has hosted some of the galaxies most famous musicians. While it is significantly smaller that most venue's, the intimacy and atmosphere make it perfect for a bunch of industry big-wigs to come and celebrate. Garron moves to the entrance and gives his name to one of the hulking masses guarding the door. He scans over a list and is granted access. Thankfully, Janessa had the foresight to add him as her guest.

Inside the club is very low lit in a crimson glow. Red booths surround groupings of smaller round tables that face the stage. The bar lies off to the side with a thin layer of smoke hanging in the air. A band plays some jazz that compliments the setting nicely but not so loud that the men and women present cannot make connections which will further their agenda's and bottom lines.

He finds Janessa Kain leaning against the bar wearing a tight deep purple dress and black heels. Admittedly, she is exceptionally attractive but she is also a notorious opportunist with whom he shared one evening of passion with almost a year ago. She brings out the baser instincts in certain people but Garron is not here for her games.

"I would buy you a drink but you seem to already have one."

She shrugs, "You can always buy me another."

He signals to the bartender and orders a bottle of ale for himself.

"This is cozy. Why aren't you the center of attention?"

Janessa narrows her dark eyes at him.

"Haven't you heard? I'm a murderer and despite the circumstances surrounding it, no one will let me forget it. They wheel and deal but treat me like I'm some kind of monster. It does make things less intimidating when they fear they will meet the same fate as Inspector Erbon should they refuse me so I suppose there's that."

"That's unfortunate," Garrons says, taking a swig from the bottle. "I thought the Republic was more forgiving."

"They used to be."

"What happened?"

"Corinthos got two high profile women off for murder and fraud with the help of the newly revealed Winton royal after she stabbed her way out of captivity then the Jedi sharply fell out of favor. Things have been….tense around here ever since. Suspicion abounds and trust is in short supply. Don't you watch the Holo?"

"I didn't know it was that bad."

"Yeah, well, you live in the idyllic D'ian where the largest concern is choosing between dinner parties. This is the real world, Garron."

"Project much? I'm not the enemy here, Janessa."

"I know," she says, sighing. "I'm sorry. I've been under a lot of pressure, especially after the Federation merged with the CEC. It put a major kink in the CSA's plans to dominate the Republic markets. Corellia has been surprisingly reasonable in pricing in some crucial areas. Needless to say, the Direx Board is displeased. I am working my ass off trying to score them contracts but this proves difficult when the Sector seldom waivers in their price points. People want well-built merchandise but they want it cheap and easy."

"And the Sector is expensive and difficult."

"Evolution is essential; otherwise certain companies won't survive in this climate. Others have adapted quite well and continue to thrive here in the Republic. It's just the nature of the game not that it makes my life any easier."

"Sounds harsh," he laughs, signaling for another round. "I'm sure you can handle it."

"We'll see."

"They have more alarming matters to deal with. Didn't the Republic just get their ass handed to them by the Empire?"

"Bastion? Yeah. It's bad. Lost a lot of good men and women. Everything is being pinned on the Jedi."

"Well, they were leading the assault, no?"

She leans closer to him.

"I guess that depends on who you ask."

"You suggest otherwise?"

"The Speaker has taken a hard line against the Jedi in recent months and the Registration Act has caused quite the divide in the public. There have been more riots and protests in the capital within the last six months than in as many years. No one can explain why he has become so stringent in his policies. Some say it's personal and that the Jedi are being unfairly targeted for discrimination."

"Are they?"

"Difficult to say. Most of what I hear are only rumors but the consensus seems to lean in that direction. Your sister has taken on a personal quest for the human rights of all Force Users, much to Apteen's displeasure. She has also aligned herself with the Corellian Senator, Artemis Soldys, who clearly shares her interest in these rights."

Garron sets down the bottle.

"This is a bad thing? Corellian's generally champion the individual rights of their people."

"True but Corellia is an interesting case. Their struggle to gain admittance into the Republic was well documented. Once they achieved it, Soldys caused some waves of his own in regards to the Republic inquest into the ruins of Centerpoint. He was reluctant to allow teams to explore the site which caused much speculation in the Senate. His strict sense of justice and flair for cutting through the political bullshit clashes with many of the most popular Senator's. They don't like his directness nor does he care for their pandering to lobbyists and special interests. He came to Circe's aide shortly after the trial and they both went before the Speaker to question the Registration Act's affect on the public. This meeting was not well-received and both have been active and vocal in their opposition to the law."

"Circe has always been drawn to personal causes."

"Exactly," Janessa says. "Even after her ordeal with Dahlia's captor over all those years, she still maintains a sense of freedom and fairness. This is made more complicated with her highly publicized association with the Jedi Melanie Masterton during the Rebellion. It would seem only natural for her to be defensive of any sanctions against them but it also makes her suspect in the eyes of the Speaker. People listen to her and rally's she has spearheaded have drawn thousands of people. The last of which was broken up by the RSB and Circe had to be evacuated by Senator Soldys when the clash turned violent."

"I thought the Republic allowed peaceful protests."

"They do but the RSB have become more….militant in recent months. Some say they have crossed the line and moved on these protests under orders from the Speaker. My spies tell me Apteen considers her a threat and if she is able to generate enough support, they may be able to repeal the law. Having Senator Soldys at her side jeopardizes relations with a very valuable Corellia. In a time when war with the Empire is imminent, this is not something he will let stand."

Garron is appalled, "To go after her would turn her cause into a crusade."

"I've tried to warn her but she thinks I'm playing into their agenda. Granted, I do have my own goals but they do not involve public policy. Besides we spent time together and I've come to appreciate her sense of nobility even if I do not share it. Circe's in danger, Garron. Real danger. The Speaker wants her silenced so he can paint the Jedi and Force Sensitive's as threats to the Republic way of life. From the sound of things, he wants them gone and anyone else with even remote ability tagged and monitored."

"A segregated society will only breed more dissent and anarchy."

"If the Republic falls into chaos, we will be an easy target. I'm speaking from a purely selfish point of view when I say that I am not equipped for a hostile takeover from the Empire or anyone else. I like my pretty things and the last thing I want is for everything to be torn apart by some paranoid ideal."

"Alright," Garron says. "Point taken. I'll talk to her."

Janessa nods.

"See that you do before it's too late."



-TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril: Senate Building

"I call this hearing of the war committee to order, to address the matter of the recent assault by our forces on the imperial world of Bastion.  Present at this hearing, for purposes of questioning, are Ven Agnant, High Master of the Jedi Council, and several other jedi masters of the Jedi Council. At the present time, this meeting is being recorded, but it is confidential until further notice."

The gavel was pounded and the room grew a bit silenter.  In the center of the main podium, Speaker Apteen glanced down at the jedi with an unreadable expression, various senators on either side of him.  And one seat notably absent.  Master Agnant glanced up at the chair for the Corellian delegate, at the end of the row.

"Master Agnant, you were the battle commander of the Republic fleet and made the decision to send the fleet against Bastion, is that correct?"

Agnant nodded his head.

"That is correct"
"And what was the basis of that decision?"

"The Empire was fighting a war of attrition - attacking slowly, and pulling out before we could counter. It was impacting resources, and morale. We-"

Speaker Apteen lifted a hand to cut him off.

"Were we not winning the war?"
"We had turned back imperial attacks and had made progress, but the war was turning into a stalemate, not a victory."
"I have seen reports indicating otherwise"
"I have seen those reports."
"And have you seen the reports by your subordinates on their views of the attack on Bastion"

"Some of them - some I only learned about when you made them public"

The speaker's lips pursed into a thin smile, but his eyes glared.
"Are you aware many officers considered attacking Bastion to be either foolish, or suicidal?"
"The views of my captains were discussed, at length, both from my initial proposal on the attack, throughout the planning stages"
"I've heard otherwise"
"Well them, Mr. Speaker, perhaps you should be testifying rather than myself"

A moment of silence, again, that glare.

"Master Agnant, perhaps you do not understand the implications of what you did.  Your actions cost the Republic significant costs in terms of resources and thousands of lives."
"I disagree"
"Still?  Were you not present when the attack happened?  Reports indicate that you went into deep space and were surrounded by imperials and had to fight to get out."
"That is partially but not wholly accurate.  In fact, we sent scouts ahead to make sure the path was clear - and they gave the clear signal.  We were then pulled out of hyperspace into deep space."
"It was a trap"
"yes"
"and you fell into the trap"
"yes"
"So how was it not your actions?"
"Because, Mr. Speaker, it was the actions of whoever revealed our plan to the Imperials.  Someone among the captains must have fed the Empire our plans"
"Were the jedi among these captains you accuse? Or are only the non-Force sensitive among us candidates for treason?"

"I trust my jedi"
"I used to trust the jedi.  Now, I'm not certain.  Do you have anything else to indicate who might have revealed your masterful plan to the Empire?"
"Not yet.  But I have begun an investigation"

"Good.  But I am going to halt your investigation.  And at this time, I am going to appoint a member of this committee to oversee its own review of what happened.  Senator
Ingrat."

Ingrat failed to hide a smile as he stood, being recognized.

"I will accept this responsibility with humility, and get to the bottom of this matter."

The Speaker nodded.

"Good.  In the meantime - I am revoking all privileges and charters of the jedi.  You are no longer allowed entrance to the senate or any other government building, and your underground facility is to be vacated within 48 hours time.  Those jedi who were on the mission to Bastion are also prohibited from leaving the city, and are to wear tracking devices, pending further investigation."

Agnant rose from his seat "Mr. Speaker, what has become of rational responses? This is uncalled for, it is unjust, it is"

"Master Agnant, I trust you wil be cooperative with Senator Ingrat's investigation.  Security will be escorting you and your colleagues from the building."

Republic troops were closing in, Agnant staring at the speaker hard as they firmly began pulling him away from his seat toward the door.

When the jedi were gone, the speaker spoke again.

"In light of what we've seen here today, I'm afraid I have no choice but to allow Senator Ingrat's motion regarding the jedi to reach the full senate for consideration."

TBC

[Syren]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

Garron arrives to Circe's building around midnight. He did not intend to stay that long at the party but Janessa was just full of opinions. Her sources seem to think the Jedi are being set up and his sister is making them more sympathetic in the eyes of the public. He taps the buzzer several times until she answers. Circe invites him up and embraces him in the doorway of her apartment.

"I heard you were in town," she says. "With Dahlia no less. How is she?"

"Obnoxious but otherwise fine. We're posted over in Serinus while VMG sorts out the designers she'll be dangling in front of the masses come fall."

Circe moves into the kitchen to get him a drink. Her apartment is simple but spacious. She was never one for frills in terms of design but did have an eye for sleek and functional furniture. The apartment is spotless save for the clutter on the dining room table. There are data cards and notes strewn across the glass surface. She reappears with a glass of liquor on the rocks, just the way he likes it.

"I take it you don't approve?"

He takes a sip and sighs.

"I just wish she had been a bit more original. It's like Karen: The Sequel! Now with even more attitude."

"She's been through a lot, Garron. Give her a little credit."

"I'm not trying to minimize her ordeal but she bounced back pretty quickly."

"Kids are resilient. What about Dane and Gemma? How are they coping?"

He shrugs, glancing around.

"Dane has been a real pain in the ass and Gemma is full of surprises. Did you happen to catch the report on the Patten boy?"

"I did. Poor thing. I do hope all this attention doesn't damage him. They are using the term, The New Four. I'm not sure I like the sound of that."

"Who does? Has this place been checked for bugs?"

She makes a face, "Bugs? This is uptown. What kind of building do you think I live in?"

"Listening devices, Circe."

"You imply someone cares enough to bother?"

He turns, finishing off his glass.

"I hear you've been busy lately what with all the protests and rallies. How do you find the time?"

She narrows her eyes, "Who told you that?"

"Janessa."

"Oh, dear. That woman is a piece of work. Tell me you haven't been spending time with her."

"Actually," Garron says, somewhat salaciously. "I just came from a party in Five Points she invited me to."

"You and her? No. Please, Maker, no."

He laughs.

"It was a corporate function but it's nice to know I have your blessing. So, tell me, why have you been stirring the proverbial pot?"

"Because what they are doing is wrong. The Republic went from a peaceful albeit sluggish democratic system to some kind of suspicious police state. The RSB are out of control. They march the streets looking for ways to clash with the populous. Routine stops turn into agent involved shootings and protests get gassed with no provocation. Last week they broke up a rally and sent eighty-three people to the hospital. Inspector Drakos wants to introduce new enforcement regulations to the Senate and there are rumors he has already begun a list of suspected Force-Sensitive's. Even talking about the Jedi or the Force can land you on the list. This restricts travel and has the local agents watching your every move. You must have passed at least four of them on the way in. They already know you are here."

"Which begs the question – are they listening in?"

"It's checked regularly," Circe says. "It's fine."

"Is it? Something tells me it's more serious than that."

"I understand certain people are upset but this has got to stop. Anyone brave enough to come out as a Force Sensitive has been met with hostility and fear. The Speaker has made the public believe those with any kind of connection to the Force will use it against them, that they are not to be trusted. People have lost their jobs over this, their livelihoods, even their homes. There are no laws in place protecting discrimination against Force-Sensitivity. You can be fired, evicted and refused service."

"No way," Garron says. "The Republic is more progressive than that."

"They were but this has spiraled out of hand. Most of what people say isn't even based in any real truth or science. It's steamrolling into a much larger and fundamental civil rights issue. I can't let this stand. I won't."

Admittedly, he is thrown. Janessa's words made everything seem dark and terrible but he mostly thought she was tipsy and melodramatic. Now his sister is confirming these facts in greater detail.

What the hell is going on in the Republic?

There is a knock at the door. Garron draws his blaster.

Circe gasps, waving it away as she moves toward the door. He stops her.

"What is your problem?"

"You're in danger."

"Don't be ridiculous."

"The Speaker believes you are a liability to his cause and after what you just told me I'm inclined to believe it."

"Then I doubt he would send the RSB after me to knock politely. Since when are you so irrational?"

"Since the Republic has apparently gone to hell in a handbasket."

She rolls her eyes up and approaches the door, looking through the peephole. She inhales sharply, steps back and opens the door. A young man in a brown robes steps inside quickly. He has a tan satchel strung over his shoulder. Circe closes the door behind him.

"Master Atrii," she says. "Is everything alright?"

"Do not worry. I was not seen."

"Wait a minute," Garron says, leveling the blaster. "Who is this bozo?"

She glares at him.

"This is Jedi Master Donovan Atrii. Master Atrii, this is my overprotective brother, Garron Prescott. He's from the Corporate Sector so he's uptight but not in an oppressive Republic way."

"Atrii? I thought you were traveling the galaxy."

"My parents prefer that story."

He glances to Circe.

"Can he be trusted?"

She nods, "Yes. Tell me, what troubles you?"

"Something has happened. Master Agnant returned to the council chambers with orders to vacate."

"On whose authority?"

"Speaker Apteen. There was a special session called in regards to the loss at Bastion. We believe our plans may have been leaked but unfortunately have not been allowed to investigate further. The Jedi present in the battle must be monitored at all times and the rest evicted effective immediately. I did not know where else to go."

She brings him over to the couch to sit and fetches some water.

"I'm glad you came. You can stay here until we sort this out."

"It is too dangerous, Counselor."

"That's what I was just saying," Garron grumbles.

Circe ignores him.

"I'm not afraid of them. And If I'm not mistaken, the Speaker is the one who rallied the Jedi and sent them against the Empire in the first place."

Donovan nods, "To combat the threat to our borders."

"Convenient, especially if the outcome was rigged. You said the Jedi will not be allowed to investigate?"

"No, the investigation will be led by Senator Ingrat."

"To findings that will validate the Speakers concerns, no doubt. I will consult Senator Soldys about this matter and see if we cannot introduce some impartiality into the investigation. Come now, it's time for you to rest. I won't hear another word about it."

"You are most gracious, Counselor. Thank you."

She shows him to the guest bedroom and returns moments later. Garron follows her back into the kitchen, keeping his voice lowered.

"Have you lost your senses completely? Keeping him here is dangerous."

"I've merely invited a friend to stay with me until he is back up on his feet."

"Spinning it doesn't dull the implications. Don't be naïve, Circe. This will only anger them further. Do you want this militant RSB to come beating down your door?"

"If they do, it will only prove our point. The public will see that and they will not let it continue."

He holds her gaze.

"Inciting this kind of fight within the Republic will weaken it which I'm betting is exactly what the Empire wants. You are playing right into their hands."

"I'm fighting for equality, Garron but if you think this has deeper ties then bring me something I can use."

He leaves the apartment before one-thirty in the morning, passing two undercover agents sitting in an unmarked speeder. He pretends not to notice as he calls for a taxi. They would not suspect much considering he was already scheduled to be in Chandaar as Dahlia Winton's escort. A visit with his sister is not immediately alarming. At least it shouldn't be. The Jedi's presence in her apartment disturbs him and he wonders how far back their association goes. They seemed fairly familiar with one another. If Circe is consorting with members of the Jedi Council, she is in a lot deeper than he realized.

Garron returns to Serinus and The Menagerie where he finds Georgie silently guarding the room where Dahlia and Quinn sleep peacefully inside. It had been a long night and there is much to consider. His mind is racing now. Does it go deeper?

Doesn't it always?



-TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril: Senate Building

Artemis Soldys was fuming as he stepped into the room where Speaker Apteen and others from the war committee were speaking.

"What is the meaning of this?"

Apteen turned from one of the senators to face to face Artemis.

"The meaning of what, Senator?"

"I was excluded from the hearing on the Bastion assault"

"You were never excluded, senator.  You just didn't show up"

"Perhaps that is because I was never informed about the meeting"

"Senator, i took every measure necessary to inform all of the committee members about the hearing.  If you were off, galavanting on some mission of civil rights, that cannot be blamed on me.  We've had this conversation before, you and I, about your priorities.  If you want to be Corellia's representative, you need to be there to represent it."

Artemis was steaming.  He knew full well that at the time of the meeting, he was actually involved in senate business, and that the speaker never informed him or his office about the meeting.  If only he could prove it.

The Speaker meanwhile offered a thin-lipped smile.

"Is there anything else, senator?"

Artemis stood silent for just a minute, contemplating the next move.

"As a matter of fact, I would like to address the matter before the committee now"
"That time has passed, Senator"
"With due respect, that's incorrect.  Senate Rule 50-2201 indicates any senator may address issues their assigned committees dealt with while they were absent"
"And subsection (c) of that rule says the committee chair may overrule that request if deemed redundant or wasteful of time. And I do"
"You aren't the chair of the committee.  The speaker may sit and oversee meetings, but is not the chair of any senate committee"

Apteen's face turned sour
"You think you'll win playing parliamentarian with me?"
"It's not about winning. It's about justice, and completing the process the way the Republic was meant to handle them."

Apteen stared at Artemis before turning to senator Ingrat.

"Senator Ingrat, I name you head of the Senate War Committee.  How do you feel about Senator Soldys's request?"

Ingrat just nodded his head, almost in mock solemnty.

"I deem it to be redundant, unnecessary, and a waste of time, and deny the request"

Apteen smiled as he turned back to Artemis.

"Well, there you go"

Artemis shook his head.
"Why are you doing this?  What are you trying to accomplish?"  He then turned to look at the other senators in the room.

"And you - all of you.  My colleagues.  My co-senators.  Don't you care about justice and fairness too?  How can you let this happen?"

Many of the senators in the room looked uncomfortable, glancing down, at each other - anywhere but at Artemis.  He knew he had many political enemies in the senate - people who did not like Corellia being a part of the Republic, or the way he handled things - but there were allies, and friends, and those who didn't have those agendas.  Where were they now?

"Corellians really do get dramatic, don't they"  The speaker rolled his eyes, and there were a few nervous laughs"

"I won't let you keep doing what your doing, Mr. Speaker."
"I'm trying to preserve the Republic.  Are you saying that is not a noble enough goal for the hero of Corellia?"

Artemis stormed out of the room to the sounds of more laughter.

TBC

[Syren]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril: Serinus

Flash!

That sparkling emerald gaze and highly glossed lips that purse and pout on command are all caught in a wide range of angles and lighting. Dahlia first models the darker neutrals of Nalaa Grey then daring junior formal wear from D'jour before finally showcasing the latest in schoolgirl vamp by Viu-Viu. Her crimson hair and fair, fresh face are done and redone depending on the image they want to portray. Escara Wu paces behind the scenes and juggles taking what seem like several hundred com-calls with pointing and snapping at photographers or models. On the other side of the studio, Quinn is finishing up a shoot for the bohemian chic line by Nurha'chi. She turns sharply, blond hair flowing around her face as the pale blue eyes that have become her trademark shimmer beneath the lights.

Garron Prescott lounges in a director's chair and wonders what the hell he is doing here. Despite his reservations about her choices, he doesn't delay the shoot and eyes Escara suspiciously each time she passes in front of him. His mind is elsewhere, obviously. Circe always had a strict sense of justice growing up but she had been more reserved about it. Even when she joined the diplomacy corps with what is now the Republic, she had taken a more passive approach to her work. Now she is leading rallies around what could be the civil rights issue of this generation and drawing the ire and possible retaliation of anti-Force groups and politicians alike. He fears she may be imprisoned again or worse, slain in one of the clashes between the public and the RSB. Circe is a grown woman who can make her own choices but she's still his sister and there is a dark feeling nagging at his gut that tells him she is headed for serious trouble.

Dahlia appears beside him, holding a bottle of water with a name he couldn't even begin to pronounce.

"Having fun?"

"No."

"You could at least pretend."

"Thankfully, that's your job. Not mine."

She smirks, a signature of the Winton family.

"And what is your job here exactly?"

He considers this and phrases in a way she will understand.

"I'm like…a glorified babysitter who makes sure you stay out of trouble and that no one tries to take you out because of who you are. Does that clarify things for you?"

"Mostly," she says, tucking a thick strand of hair behind her ear. "Are you planning on lightening up anytime soon or can we expect this charming mood you've adopted to continue throughout the rest of the trip?"

"I'm pretty sure you know the answer to that."

"Fine, be like that. What's wrong with you anyway? Georgie said you got in early this morning."

"Georgie told you that?"

She shrugs, "I asked questions, he grunted. It was, like, a thing."

"If you must know, I had a function to attend then visited my sister."

"Oh, how is the Counselor? She was so thoughtful to bring me back to D'ian after all that, you know, stuff."

"She's fine."

"Really? They mentioned her on the news last night."

"The news doesn't always tell the whole story."

Dahlia attempts to pry.

"If she's in trouble, you can tell me."

"Don't worry about it," Garron says, completely shutting her down. "Just focus on this campaign they have you strutting around for. Let me worry about Circe."

Quinn strides up to them and smiles.

"They are finished with me for today."

"Me too," Dahlia says.

"We can do lunch! The food here is amazing. It's like this whole macrobiotic culinary revolution or whatever."

"Sounds great. Can we go or do we need an escort to the salad bar?"

Garron rolls his eyes up.

"Take Georgie with you. I have to step out for a few."

"Where are you going?"

"Out. Stay in The Menagerie until I return. I don't want you roaming around the city."

"But I want to go shopping!"

She's whining and he is struck with a query as to why anyone would want to become a parent if this is the reward.

"Tough," he says.

"Can't Georgie just go with us?"

"Georgie doesn't have the credit cards."

Quinn is suddenly activated, "We get an expense account."

"A per diem on clothes? Of course you do. There is time for all that. Take a few and get to know this place, mingle and do whatever it is girls your age do."

Shop, Garron. We shop. That's what girls our age do."

"Quinn, help me out here."

"Um, what?"

He sighs.

"Go eat lunch, chill out from your exhausting hour of work and I'll be back when I can."

Garron gives Georgie the orders as he is headed out. Georgie glances across the room at Dahlia who nods. She knew Garron would be pulled in many directions when they arrived and she wants him distracted. The release of the Patten story and ongoing situation with Circe would be more than enough to keep him occupied. The news is teaming with headlines about her quest to repeal the Force User Registration Act, an idea she foisted onto Speaker Apteen after he had spent months under the influence of the dark side of the Force. She just plays her part so she would be able to come and go as she pleases in the future. This is more of an establishing trip, one that would put her on the map in the modeling and fashion world but also grant her access into the city on her many returns.

Emperor Schrag would be watching and she is here to prove she could infiltrate the Republic in ways the Empire could never dream of.

Perks of popularity.

Quinn takes her hand and they wander toward the lifts.

Garron is on his com as he exits through the front lobby.

"Solem, Lancing, Wray and Corinthos, where may I direct your call?"

"Kaytt Corinthos, please."



-TBC

[Medivh]

Chandaar: Republic Capital
Surface: Ambaril: Senate Building

Speaker Apteen was looking out the window from his office, high, high abovethe street below.  The area around the senate building was a no-fly zone for security reasons, giving him an unobstructed view of the crowd massing below.

Another protest.

"I have to admit, Mr. Speaker, I am surprised by your recent turn of heart"

Apteen turned to face Senator Ingrat, who continued speaking.

"You used to have a soft spot for the jedi, and the Corellians. Now you are spearheading efforts that will affect them both negatively"

"I'm not spearheading anything - I am just letting your legislation through"

"Still - and don't think me ungrateful - I wonder why the change?"

Apteen turned away, again glancing down.  The question was one he knew the answer to, but couldn't quite place into words.  So he settled for the next best thing.

"The jedi were treated on an exalted status.  And I realize they don't deserve that.  Allowing through this legislation will make it clear they are not a higher class citizen than the rest of us.  The Corellians are fine, but their opposition to my attempts to strengthen the republic have grown wearisome. I'm tired of dealing with Soldys and all of his whining.  I know you two have been at odds - giving you that position of strength will irk him, and maybe teach him to hold his tongue a bit more"

He turned back to the senator.

"But as far as I'm concerned - as you are concerned, as the rest of the senate is concerned - I am acting in an unbiased, neutral manner to protect the Republic at all costs."

Ingrat smiled.

"Fine by me"

Apteen nodded his head. "Good.  have you finished drafting the legislation?"

"almost.  It has to be tailored to gain more support from those still on the fence. Too many people still support the jedi.  The protests are indicative of that"

"I've heard news that might make things easier.  There is a rumor going through some holo-channels.  Circe Prescott under the influence of another Force user.  We have footage of her harboring at least one of the evicted jedi. I don't know how it was leaked, but it serves well enough.  if her credibility is tarnished, she won't be able to maintain the following she has"

"excellent."

TBC

[Syren]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

The offices of Solem, Mack, Wray and Corinthos are about as posh as he expected them to be. It seems high powered attorney's have a fondness for solid, dark furniture and an affinity for office foliage. Garron is directed down a long corridor after he was granted an appointment, surprising even to him. He finds the corner office befitting a senior partner and enters. Kaytt rises from her chair and extends a hand.

"Garron Prescott," she says warmly. "It's a pleasure to finally meet you."

He takes it and nods.

"The pleasure is mine. I appreciate you seeing me on such short notice."

"I saw you were in town. Actually, everyone did. Dahlia Winton's return to the Republic has caused quite a stir. People are skeptical yet strangely curious. I suppose that sort of thing runs in their family. I've already had flowers sent over to her at The Menagerie. It's the least I could do considering she saved my case."

"I'm sure she'll appreciate the gesture even though more attention is the last thing she needs."

Kaytt motions to a chair which he gladly accepts. 

"I take it you are a skeptic as well? Although, as the confidante of Rutherford Gellar, I hardly suspect her identity came as any real shock to you."

"The jury is still out, if you'll excuse the pun. Dahlia is, well, complicated."

"Not surprising given her lineage. You have nearly a full house in the Corporate Sector; Winton, Gellar, and Masterton all under one roof. And now these explosive claims about the Patten boy. Something tells me this isn't news to you either."

He shrugs, evading the bulk of the subject and those it entails.

"A lovely piece by Selene Silvestri but the Corellian's have confirmed it."

"The New Four," Kaytt whispers ominously. "At least that's what they say."

"They?"

"The Holo-fanatics herald this as some kind of omen. A second coming of sorts to polish off what their counterparts started."

"Is that your professional opinion?"

"It's circumstantial at best but I suppose we’ll see. Whatever the case, the timing could not have been more perfect. Whoever is pulling their PR should be congratulated. I don't think I've seen the networks so lively in years."

This strikes a chord with Garron as she does have a very serious point. Timing is everything and it has all unfolded so seamlessly, as if perfectly on cue. The pause in the conversation grows, prompting Kaytt to interject.

"So, what can I do for you?"

"I need to retain your services."

"I'm expensive."

"So am I. The credits can be in your account by close of business."

She folds her arms, "Sounds serious."

"Have we crossed into client confidentiality?"

"Yes."

"Circe may be in considerable danger. Based on what I've heard and what she's told me, my sister is not making many friends within the Republic Senate. I applaud her sense of justice but she on a razor's edge here. I fear there may be backlash."

Kaytt frowns, "You haven't seen the news this morning, have you?"

"No, I came straight here after I called. Why?"

"It seems a new theory is being introduced, one that involves Circe still under the influence of a Force User, this time the Jedi Council. The networks are claiming a tip was received that indicated this influence was the sole cause of her crusade."

Garron scoffs.

"That's ridiculous! She returned to the Republic to fight these laws of her own free will. Ask Janessa, she was there. The Jedi were nowhere near the Sector when she came to this conclusion."

"Perhaps not then," Kaytt says. "But her passion has only intensified as she's been in the capital."

"As a result of the increased lawlessness of the Senate and the restrictions of this so-called Registration Act."

"There is more; photage of a Jedi entering her apartment early this morning…right after you got into a cab and left."

Garron's eyes widen.

"I was recorded?"

"By two agents of the RSB."

"Those bastards."

"I must ask - did you know?"

"About the Jedi? Yes. He came knocking after I was already there, claiming they got kicked out. Of course, Circe offered up her place to stay."

"Why would she do that?"

"I suppose they are friends," Garron says. "This Jedi, Donovan, is actually from the Corporate Sector. You know him."

"Donovan Atrii?"

"Yeah."

She shakes her head, "Figures."

"Problems?"

"He was less than helpful when I requested the Jedi come to Circe and Janessa's defense. They wanted to remain in the shadows, out of the spotlight."

"I see that's working out for them."

Kaytt smiles slyly, redirecting.

"The networks used your exit to segue into the mysterious figure slipping in to Circe's apartment under the cover of darkness. The narrative is shifting out of her favor as we speak. They say she is a Jedi pawn to spread propaganda and poison the Republic."

"Mother of the Maker," Garron mutters. "She's not their pawn!"

"To be fair, Counselor Prescott was unaware she was being used by the dark Jedi who held the children captive. This lasted for years. Even Janessa was manipulated into doing unspeakable acts, things that will linger with her reputation forever."

"You think Circe is being controlled?"

"I am only arguing both sides. You would be surprised what the public is willing to believe these days. They are mistrustful, even fearful, of the Jedi now. They no longer hold the sacred place within the Republic infrastructure they once did. Now, as your counsel, I will defend her to the best of my ability but even you must see how this will severely damage her credibility. Those who rallied with her will now doubt if her intentions were true and the fabric of her movement will begin to unravel."

"That is exactly what Speaker Apteen wants."

"You think he is targeting her specifically?"

"Yes," he nearly shouts. "Her and that Corellian Senator, Artemis Soldys. Apteen can't directly attack her without compromising his impartiality but he can influence what the public thinks the same way he did with the Jedi."

"To what end?"

"She stands in his way of ridding the Republic of the Jedi entirely. Clearly this is where this is heading. Their reputation has been tarnished; they were blamed for the recent losses against the Empire and now evicted from their sanctuary. Circe's message makes them sympathetic and the public relates to a group of people being marginalized by big government. If she is discredited then the whole of the general public will turn on them."

Kaytt taps the com on her desk and makes a request.

Within minutes, a young man and woman enter the office.

Kaytt stands and motions to them, "Garron Prescott, this is Avery Olomos and Brennen Shaw, two of our best and brightest associates. As part of your retainer, I can have them assist in looking into these claims regarding your sister. If there is any truth to it, they will find it."

"I appreciate that, thank you."

Kaytt shakes his hand once more.

"We'll be in touch."

"Yes, please let me know what you find."

As he begins to leave, she calls after him.

"Just remember," Kaytt says, "You are on the RSB radar now. Director Drakos is not a man you want to cross. If Circe is a target, so are you."



-TBC

[Syren]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Serinus: The Menagerie

Dahlia lounges around watching the Holo as Quinn sways languorously across the expansive suite. So much drama unfolds on the screen that creating more seems like a waste but, really, it’s not. The more complicated the better. The Republic needs to be choking to death on its own inability to function that a collapse is the only logical next step. Being evil is so much cooler than being nice. She imagines what it must have been like for Karen getting through that much of her life being so stupid. Not like Alexia was any better, having gone off the rails nearly from birth. Dahlia likes to think she is the perfect balance between them with just the right mixture of vanity and venom.

A commercial for a sugary sports drink fades into a breaking report out of Corellia in which the former Ambassador of the Trade Federation and current Vice Present of the CEC, Mara Tacofer, is pronounced dead by the CorSec Director.

Truth be told, she didn’t see that one coming.

Sniped down by the Corellians? Harsh. That’s going to throw another wrench in Garron’s gears as Dahlia knows they spent time together when he was sent to retrieve Dane. She senses feelings but his knack for evading topics altogether makes it difficult to read clearly. She smiles knowing Garron is going to be spread so thin he won’t even have time to realize her motives or actions. Dahlia still needs to pay Speak Apteen a visit. After all, he’s been so unwittingly instrumental to their plans.

A voice she recognizes smoothes over the scene.

“Everyone thinks that I have it all but its so empty living behind these castle walls. These castle walls.”

Dahlia jumps up, “Turn it up!”

Quinn is confused, turning on impossibly high heels and short shorts.

“What?”

“The media player,” she says. “Turn it up!”

Quinn taps the volume up as Gemma’s voice rings through clear as day.

“If I should tumble, if I should fall, would anyone hear me screaming behind these castle walls? These castle walls? These castle walls.”

Dahlia squeals, clapping her hands together.

“What is it?” Quinn asks.

“That’s Gemma! That’s my sister!”

“No way!”

“Yes way!! She recorded a single with Sur-Maaj.”

Quinn is moving to the smooth lyrics in the verse, “Solid.”

The bridge is where Gemma adds her piece.

“Nobody knows I’m all alone, living in this castle made of stone. They say that money is freedom but I feel trapped inside it all. And while I sit so high up on a throne I wonder why I feel so low. On top of the world it’s beautiful but there’s no place to fall.” *

These words impress upon Dahlia as something deeper than just a hook to a hit song. Gemma may be young but she is hardly stupid. She managed to not only get herself trained as Jedi but then lied about it to everyone she knows. The altruistic and incredibly talented blonde is keeping secrets. On one hand, Dahlia is extremely proud. Such a feat of deception takes a stomach she was unaware Gemma possessed but in all fairness she does have help. The people of D’ian love to talk almost as much as they love lording their wealth over the have-not’s. She knows the mousy Nevylinn has been lurking about keeping Gemma from coming unglued under the guise of maintaining Republic interests in the Sector. She knows Kylie knows too. And if Kylie knows, Garron knows which is why they will both be kept in a state of panic and dread. Their confusion will keep things interesting.

Speak of the devil.

Garron strides in trying not to look anguished. Where ever he went, she can tell it didn't go well.

“If you are going to keep wandering off, I’m going to start feeling neglected.”

“You had Quinn to keep you company.”

“True but aren’t you supposed to, like, protect me or something?”

“Georgie is plenty capable.”

Georgie leans against the far wall and grunts what they believe is an affirmative.

“I guess,” Dahlia sighs, wandering through the room. “But with all things crazy things happening….”

“Oh, you’ll be fine.”

“…those riots, your sister and those terrible rumors, that CEC Vice President dying.”

Garron jerks, “What Vice President?”

Dahlia moves to strike.

“Mara something. You know, Riley’s aunt. Yeah, well apparently she got shot at by some rogue border patrol in the Corellian Sector and eventually crashed on Tynna. They looked for her but I guess she’s on the bottom of some ocean. Bummer, right?”

The devastation is almost palpable. Dahlia has to steady herself against the emotional shockwave emanating off of Garron. For his part, he seems to take it in stride but she knows better.

“Yeah. Bummer. Excuse me, please.”

He leaves the room while Dahlia makes eye contact with Georgie and smiles.

Quinn stands beside her, looking concerned.

“Is he alright?”

“Maybe…but probably not.”

*

Garron bursts into a stairwell and finds himself on an exterior terrace. He shouts obscenities into the air before clamping his hands on the guard rail until his knuckles turn white. His world is spiraling and for the first time in a long time, he has no immediate means to make it stop. Kaytt could only shield Circe from aspects of the law but not in the court of public opinion. The RSB is possibly watching his every move. Janessa is branded a murderer and clients fear an act she did not commit of her own free will. And now, Mara is gone. Gone before they ever really had a chance to test out the feelings they shared. Gone before they could ever really be together.

“It’s somewhat comforting to know there is a man who can express emotion.”

He turns sharply to find Escara Wu examining him.

“How did you know I was up here?”

She gestures around, “We have eyes everywhere.”

“Of course you do. You live in a voyeuristic little bubble.”

“It’s a cozy and extremely lucrative bubble,” Escara says.

“How much does a soul go for these days?”

“More credits than you can afford.”

Garron laughs hollowly, too tired to conceal his agitation, grief or disgust. He feels lost and detached. This trip had gone from a personal favor for Lady Masterton to reframing his entire life. He shakes his head while drawing in long, deep breaths.

“You never stop performing, do you? The mask you wear is sewn into your skin.”

She joins him at the railing, staring out into an orange sunset that illuminates her dark and vacant eyes.

“And you can’t even see the scars. We aren’t that different, Garron Prescott.”

“Oh, this should be rich. Enlighten me.”

“We serve our masters loyally even if it means compromising pieces of ourselves. Whatever qualms we may have with the means can be justified and rationalized. The lies we tell ourselves in order to press onward become the reality we live. It shapes our lives even if in the past we told ourselves we would never let it. Truth is inconvenient when it comes to protecting the world we have built for ourselves.”

Escara turns to face him.

“Don’t tell me you wouldn’t risk it all to save Dahlia from this Winton curse you believe has followed her from the past to the present. You would lay down your life to protect her. I would do the same to make her a star.”

“The joke is on you, Miss Wu. She already is.”

“We know that but it’s my job to ensure the entire galaxy does and never forgets it. Being a famous name takes absolutely no skill at all. She could coast on the legacy her sisters or parents left her. Building and cultivating a unique brand takes diligence and cleverness. The trick is to always having them wanting more. Dahlia Winton is a rare breed. She has what it takes to bring the worlds to their knees.”

Garron’s eyes meet her stoic stare.

“That’s exactly what you should be afraid of.”



-TBC

*Copyright T.I. & Christina Aguilera 

[Syren]

"I'm smiling while lying to you.
If you only knew."

-Mono

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril

Pale beams of moonlight illuminate a carpeted hallway leading to a set of ornate double doors. At the other end, a boy appears. He is blonde but with a shaved head, wearing a tank top and boxer shorts. There are dark circles under his eyes as he walks listlessly down the hall toward the double doors.

Alexia Winton leans against the wall, looking first at her nails then glancing up at the boy, her eyes wide pools of blackness.

That is when the boy reaches the doors. He touches the wall controls and enters to approach the bed where his parents sleep. It is his father who wakes first, sitting up and turning on the bedside lamp.

"Billy?"

It is then he notices the blaster clutched tightly in his son's hands.

"William, what are you doing? Where did you get that?"

His mother stirs, "Honey, what is it?"

"It's Billy."

She sits up, eyes adjusting to the light. She gasps at the sight.

"Put that down this instant!"

Billy sways in place, his face slack and devoid of emotion. He raises the blaster.

"Billy, please! I know what happened to D'Arcy was terrible but we can help you….please, let us get you some help."

Alexia's lips move but the sound comes out of Billy's mouth as he presses the tip of the blaster against his right temple.

"This is only the beginning."

The shot is deafening and the screams of an anguished mother rise to an intolerable level.

Alexia turns and walks down the hall with a satisfied smile as the screams follow.

*

Dahlia's eyes flutter open.

Moments later, Escara Wu retrieves her from the suite. Dahlia collects herself and pulls a cloak around her shoulders, lifting up the hood. Together they move past a dreaming Quinn and out into the corridor. Garron was emotionally drained and had taken an early leave. He fell into a deep slumber where visions of Mara's face beneath the thrashing waters of Tynna haunt him.

Once they are clear of The Menagerie and safely on their way, Escara turns to Dahlia where her face shifts and melts to reveal the horribly scarred visage of the Voss-Ra disciple Tvo'rask, otherwise known as "Georgie."

"Vaat wra'ahh, bris cava." (The plan proceeds, dark child)

"Basic, baby," Dahlia says. "This is the Republic. One has to make these adjustments. And for the love of the Maker, appear as something more pleasant to my eyes. I know it's your custom or whatever but yikes."

Tvo'rask becomes the hulking security agent Georgie.

"Much better. To your point, the plan is proceeding but it needs a little nudge. That Circe Prescott is too helpful for her own good. Someone that idealistic needs to be taken down a few notches or, like, taken out altogether. Accidents happen. People get mad, do crazy things. The Jedi is on the way out but the eviction is just the first step. They need to be exiled entirely, thrust out of the Republic so they can no longer protect them."

"You are the Abomination, the royal absolution, the true daughter of darkness."

"I know! You guys only sing one song. The big picture is much more involved, G. Get it together. Schrag needs vulnerability from within while he weakens their borders. For that to happen, we need the Speaker to further this purge."

They arrive at the Senate Hall just after midnight. Apteen always works late and she knew he would be here. She can feel him inside. Dahlia turns to Georgie who has now taken the form of Senator Ingrat at her suggestion. The Speaker's little lackey will surely be granted access without question. "Ingrat" walks steadily into the great hall with Dahlia trailing behind, completely covered by the cloak. Drawing on the immense power of the Force, she conceals herself from sight to anyone who might be up and about at this hour. They approach the secured entrance for the executive offices. The night security glances up, seeing only the Senator.

"The Speaker sent for me."

The security agent scans over a list on the screen. Dahlia's eyes disappear into pools of blackness as she clouds their minds. Ingrat's name appears on the list or at least they believe it does.

"Of course, Senator. Have a good night."

Codes are punched in and access granted. "Ingrat" and Dahlia breeze through the blast doors and head toward Apteen's office. She instructs Georgie to wait outside, turning from Senator Ingrat to an RSB security agent. She sweeps inside, allowing the door to close behind her.

Speaker Shale Apteen is hunched over his desk and the arrival startles him. She pulls back the hood and smiles.

"Princess Winton," he says, surprised. "What are you doing here?"

The orb given to him by one of the clones glows on the edge of his desk and permeates the room with dark energy. She presses him mentally, seizing upon his openness to suggestion.

"You asked me to come, remember? You knew I had returned to the capital and wanted to see how I was doing. It was a sweet gesture and I was honored to oblige."

"Yes…yes, that's right. I asked for you. How are you doing?"

Her eyes flare, holding his complete attention.

"I am recovering nicely from my incredible ordeal at the hands of that twisted dark Jedi, thank you for asking. Yet I remain concerned for the safety of the people of the Republic. The Jedi remain among us."

"I have ordered them to leave their sanctuary below."

"But does that go far enough to protect your people? They continue to control and manipulate to cover their devious actions. The Registration Act is a great start but now you have Force users among you lying about who they are and what they can do. It's outrageous and inexcusable. To make matters worse, you have people like this Counselor Prescott fighting against you. She openly defies your laws under the direct control of the Jedi. She may have been a victim once but now she has allowed herself to be a willing participant who is complicit to their schemes. Circe is dangerous and must be stopped or you risk losing valuable ground with your constituents."

Apteen nods slowly as this settles over him.

Dahlia smiles deviously.

"Her brother is here as well. While he may have arrived under the pretense of my escort, I believe he is helping the Counselor. Perhaps that is something the RSB should investigate further."

"Yes," Apteen says. "They should investigate. They should also look into Janessa Kain. My sources tell me he conspires with her."

"No. Janessa is not involved. She will be left alone."

"Left alone."

In truth, Dahlia is quite fond of Janessa Kain. She is beautiful, brash and drives people crazy with her unapologetic nature. She butchered a Republic Agent with her bare hands and still managed to look gorgeous throughout the trial. She is an inspiration. Even if she is involved somehow, Dahlia does not want her harmed. She will be useful down the road when shit hits the proverbial fan.

"Circe and Garron, however, are up to no good."

"I will look into it immediately."

"And the Jedi?"

"They will be dealt with."

"I am so relieved to hear it," Dahlia says. "These are dark times for the Republic. Only you can save them, Speaker Apteen. Only you can save the Republic."

"Only me."

She stands, pulling the hood over her head.

"I was never here. You never saw me."

Outside, the Republic Agent becomes Senator Ingrat again as they leave the Senate Hall. On the ride back to Serinus, Dahlia reflects on her visit. She has another days worth of shooting left before she must return to D'ian for Fall Semester at Valor Prep at the end of the week. Garron will inevitably be waylaid and Georgie will have to take her back. His predicament will alarm Celeste and Rutherford just enough to keep any suspicion off of her. Garron is like family to them and they will rush to his defense. With any luck, Speaker Apteen will go full throttle on the Jedi and take action against the pesky Counselor which will play out publicly for Emperor Schrag to enjoy.

She throws her head back and laughs as the wind whips through her crimson hair. Fictional headlines stream across her mind.

Teenage model takes down Republic while maintaining honor roll at school, galaxy applauds ability to multi-task!

And they say youth is wasted on the young.




-TBC

[Syren]

Chandaar: Republic Capital

Surface: Ambaril: Serinus

Republic Fashion Week is one of the most buzzed about events of the season. Large white tents are erected throughout Serinus that each house one of the featured designers and their runway shows. D'jour, Nalaa Grey, Viu-Viu, Nurha'chi, Yenvy Frost, Dada, Scovaii, and Umbrere are all main attractions. Naturally, the offices of VMG are up in arm's helping to coordinate this massive mess of melodrama. Lining up models may seem like an easy task but each one carries their own haute couture bag full of insecurities and demands. There are mini-meltdowns and wardrobe malfunctions that need to be addressed and Escara Wu is on a roll.

After talking a male model named Prestige off a ledge because he was unhinged about the sheen on his six pack abs, Escara tends to a wilting flower named Vixx who hasn't eaten in four days and is on the verge of losing consciousness before she can be sent down the runway in two different outfits.

"I said eat this," Escara coos, waving a piece of bread in front of her face. "Eat this or we get the clamps. You don't want to ruin your make-up, do you?"

Vixx smells the bread, heaves then slumps over in the chair.

"Fuck. Where is her handler? For the love of the Maker, find me one that isn't on the cusp of organ failure!"

She is now screaming into her com-link.

"What do you mean we don't have a replacement? Do you want to be the one to tell Valencia Scovaii she is down a model in her signature fall collection? I sure as shit don't. That woman will claw out your eyes and use them as a garnish for her martini. No, don't think! Just make it happen."

Escara is fuming, tapping off the device when the perfect solution presents itself.

"Dahlia!"

Dahlia Winton is roaming through the staging area after completing a shoot with famed photagapher, Maani L. With Quinn a featured model in the Nurha'chi line, Dahlia utilized her backstage access to scope out the scene. All the models she had idolized growing up are here. She hears her name and smiles as Escara waves her over.

"You are just who I wanted to see right this minute. I need a huge favor and it's not open for discussion."

"That's not really a fav…"

Escara inhales, dark eyes narrowing.

"More like a friendly demand. Semantics. We need a model for the Scovaii line since we had an…opening."

Dahlia glances at Vixx limp in the chair.

"An opening? Is she okay?"

"Oh, she's fine. In fact, she's so fabulous it's killing her. Literally! Look, we don't have time for the coy routine. I personally heard Valencia praise your look on the Viu-Viu shoot so I know she will be thrilled to have you. Will you do it?"

"Runway? Of course!"

The next thing she knows, Dahlia is thrown into a chair where a team of stylists descend on her. Her crimson hair is flat-ironed then braided across the top of her head with a few hanging, curled tendrils. The make-up is more natural which gives her a glow. She is zipped into a short black and gold embellished shift dress with a pair of shiny black peep-toe strappy heels. She is then hauled over to a line of other models, most several years her senior, and placed into position. Escara tell her exactly what to do.

"Use that inner angst," she says seriously. "I want them to gasp when they realize who you are. And they will. Do not smile; do not give them the satisfaction. Use that reaction and let it give you power."

It's like the Force except with, like, fashion.

"I can do that."

The lights surrounding the white glowing stage dim and the ambient house rises as the first model sashays down the runway. It seems so much longer from this vantage point. Model after model they go until it is Dahlia's turn. She adjusts her posture, takes a deep breath and steps out. She is halfway down the runway when the vibe in the room entirely changes. There is confusion, realization, surprise, awe. She does not let this faze her as she nears the end, pausing to glare out over the darkened audience before strutting back down the runway.

The second outfit is a green empire-waist dress with a black sash. They undo the braids and tousle her hair, dabbing on some darker eye shadow while adding higher gloss to the lips. She returns to the line and repeats the process. It all goes so quickly. Before she knows it, the entire line is displayed on the runway to thunderous applause.

Backstage, models congratulate her on a great show while every stylist tells her how great she looks. It is not a bad gig.

Escara materializes out of the crowd.

"You were amazing, a vision. I could not be more proud of you right now. Want to know the best part?"

"What's that?"

"You get to keep both outfits with many thanks from Valencia Scovaii."

"Really?" Dahlia beams.

"Yes, really. This is a huge step for you, Dahlia. Your name will be on the tip of everyone's tongue. Follow that up with the digital ads scheduled to run at the end of the month and you are well on your way to conquering this world."

"That's all I've ever wanted."

"Good," Escara says. "Now, the after party."

Everyone returns to The Menagerie where the bottom lobby has been transformed into a lavish lounge. Quinn finds Dahlia and throws her arms around her.

"This is so much fun!"

"I know! What a rush."

They are handed flutes of something bubbly but Garron intercepts, taking them out of their hands.

"I think not."

Quinn frowns, crossing her arms.

Dahlia gasps.

"I see you've come out of your slump to rain on our parade."

He smirks, "It's what I do."

"So, are you done sulking or is this the new expression you are wearing? You know those lines will set if you constantly scowl."

The truth is, he is still reeling from the reports of Mara's death. He watched the Holo coverage more times than he should have and he cannot get the images out of his head of her crashing, wondering if he was in her thoughts, if she died alone...

"I'll take my chances. Don't think you this party's a little…mature for the two of you?"

"Compared to what? A house party in D'ian?

"I grew up at parties like this," Quinn says, twirling a strand of hair around her finger. "At least here they pay attention to me."

Garron blinks.

"That's the saddest thing I've ever heard."

"Sadder than your dating history?"

"You need to worry less about the facets of my life and more about the upcoming semester at Valor Prep. Sophomore year is starting soon."

"Don't remind me," Dahlia grumbles.

Quinn sighs.

"I don't know what grade I'm in. My father just sends a governess to teach me things then I go on vacation or come here."

"Now why can't I do that?"

"Because your parents love you and care about your well-being. No offense, Quinn."

"What?"

"Never mind."

There is a commotion near the entrance as the sea of people spread apart to reveal an array of uniforms. The RSB surround them with weapons drawn. Quinn clings to Dahlia as Garron steps in front of them protectively. Georgie is at their side in an instant, hovering behind the girls.

"What is the meaning of this?"

One of the agents steps forward, "Garron Prescott, the Director would like to speak with you."

"He could have called. My accommodations aren't exactly classified."

"He wants to speak with you now. At the precinct."

"Am I being arrested?"

"You are being strongly urged to accompany us for a conversation with the Director."

"Garron?

"It's okay, Dahlia."

And then he reacts exactly how she hoped he would - noble and predictable.

"Georgie, take her back to the Sector. Tell Lord Gellar and Lady Masterton I'll return as soon as I can."

Garron squares his shoulders and falls into step with the RSB agents as they file out of the lobby. The crowd watches in a mixture of curiosity and shock. One thing is for sure, the drama of it all blends perfectly with the scene. Escara Wu's judgmental gaze follows but deep down, this entire thing has made him all the more attractive. Dahlia and Quinn hold hands and stare as Garron slides into an armored transport that speeds off out of Serinus, toward the center of Ambaril.



-TBC