CC: Corporate Greed

[Syren]

“Rage is a quiet thing
You think that you've tamed it
But it's just lying in wait.”

-Hayley Williams

Corporate Sector

D’ian: Surface: Concordia Township: Gellar Estate

Dane is the king of his castle.

Turning eighteen was a bit of an anticlimax but he made it work. Now he spends his days alternating between business and conspiracy. The latest swerve came in the form of Dahlia’s belongings from Chandaar. They had been packed and sent by that smug bastard Quentin Swire. He stares at the boxes for some time, unsure about what to do with them. There are still mixed emotions on her demise and a part of him thinks everything that happened was her fault. She allowed the Empire to court her but he knows it began further back than that. His father made a deal and now he has to navigate those terms in his own way. Dahlia was just a convenient scapegoat.

He settles on chucking the boxes in her room which had been left untouched. Gemma’s too. Dane, on the other hand, moved into the master suite. It was something he had been wanting to do but there was a reluctance that bordered on guilt like he was somehow betraying their memory by assuming his rightful place as Lord of the Gellar Estate. He did not feel the same way about his father’s study which he has occupied since shortly after their deaths. Now, he spends hours there, beneath the steely stares of Gellar’s past, envisioning a plan for his company that will fulfill Rutherford’s vision and innovate their way into a sustainable future. That is the business part.

Conspiracy consumes everything else.

After finding the bugging devices, Dane sweeps the house regularly but has found nothing more. How many juicy bits of gossip had been overheard? His hazy memory knows there have been more than a few choice moments. The explanation requiring the least assumption is usually correct. Therefore, he figures, it must be the Empire keeping tabs on their investment in the most Imperial ways possible. Kind of like the strangeness of Janessa Kain turning up on the arm of Imperial Ambassador Burke Pallus. There is something up with her, likely the same something that is up with Garron. However, it seems to be impacting them in different ways. Janessa appears highly functional with a more threatening presence. Then there is Garron who continues to be an anxious wreck, unpredictably moving between emotional states seemingly at random. It would be annoying if it was not so tragic. Dane has kept his distance while trying to figure out what to do with him. There are no easy answers here.

Doc Daaé says there is nothing wrong with him physically so the damage must be strictly psychological and emotional which, in his mind, is way worse. With an injury, you would know the extent of the damage and odds of recovery. There is no such test for his trauma. To his credit, Garron is trying his best to muddle through it. Admittedly, not even all that well. Dane has a meeting with Irulan to discuss his proposal but he is unsure about what to do with Garron. Lately, he has been leaving him behind but he is not so sure how good that is for his crumbling stability. Perhaps he would ask Garron to join him for the trip to Etti IV. He finds him at the bottom of the grand staircase in quite the state. Garron holds his shaking head in trembling hands. Dane quickens his step and reaches the foyer to kneel down in front of him. It had become something of a ritual, an unnatural role for him to play, but one he feels compelled to continue playing.

“Garron,” he says, perfecting a soothing tone that usually stirs him out of this kind of episode. “Garron, it’s okay. You are at home. You are safe.”

“But I am not,” he murmurs. “We are not.”

“What do you mean?”

“There is nothing there, Dane. Nothing. All I feel is pain when I try to dig into those blank spots in my memory. I do not know where I was or who I was with. Janessa says I was with her but all I can see is grey…

Through clenched teeth and what looks like considerable anguish, Garron continues.

…grey skin.”

This triggers something for Dane, something Gemma said before they all left for that fateful trip to Hesperidium. Gemma and Riley had gone to look for Alia and returned saying they were fired on and that the cantankerous heiress fled in a shuttle with...a grey-skinned woman.

“Holy fucking shit."

His first urge is to reach out to Gemma but that may compromise her cover. She is supposed to be dead, after all, but surely this means something. Could the same person who absconded with Alia have taken Garron and Janessa? He quickly assesses the similarities and differences between them and concludes that after what happened to Roman, Alia would be more likely to go with this person willingly. She was devastated. Well, as devastated as the Chiss get. Who was this woman anyway? What did she want? Was she the one who bugged the estate? He should inform Kaytt as it was a detail he had concealed until now out of fear it would further compromise Gemma. Garron grabs Dane’s arm forcefully, startling him from the thought spiral.

His eyes are wide and a thin streak of blood drips from his nose.

“I think,” he sputters. “I think I was sent here to kill you.”

“I think you might be right.”

“You have to stop me.”

He struggles in his grasp, “What?”

“Dane, please. I beg you. Kill me before I kill you.”







-TBC

[Syren]

“We’ve been here before
Like a book I read.
In the hall that leads to the door
My words hang in the air.”

-Bent

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

It had been an uncomfortable trip.
 
Dane piloted the shuttle in silence while a sullen Garron stared dejectedly through the viewport. He revealed something Dane began to suspect was true, that his most trusted protector had been returned with a far darker purpose. A purpose meant to do him harm. In a way, it was the ultimate fuck-you. They took someone he cared about, turned them against him, and carefully placed him back to watch it all burn. Dane would be more furious if he was not so damn sad. And horny. There is nothing he wants more than to drop a visionary business plan on Irulan’s desk, get Garron some help, and then bang Alka, his classically trained dancer girlfriend, six ways from Sunday.

Preferably in that order.

Dane would punish the Empire and that grey-skinned woman who hurt Garron. He just does not know how yet. Their stake in ChemiX complicates matters which is central to his plan. Janessa is also problematic on many levels. She continues ingratiating herself further into their circles, as is the nature of her role, but the endgame is unclear. If they were indeed taken by the same person and reprogrammed somehow, it is unlikely they would both have the same directive - unless, Dane thinks ominously, one is a failsafe for the other. Maybe they did not trust Garron’s ability to go through with it, even with the push from whatever psychological torture he endured. Perhaps those recording devices were meant to be discovered and Garron sent in only when they learned what they needed to know.

He guides the shuttle down onto the landing pad atop the Gellar Tower and descends the ramp with a listless Garron trailing behind. This meeting is important so Dane stashes Garron in the Gellar Penthouse where he will be safe and heads downstairs. There is a buzz in the air, anticipation around the prospect of change that he finds exciting. He nods to several colleagues on his way to the executive offices, winking at Irulan’s admin, Ximena, as she waves him in.

Irulan Reeves rises from behind her massive obsidian desk wearing a belted V-neck dress in a shade of yellow that would look garish on anyone but her. Her dark hair is pulled back into a series of intertwining twists held together with tactfully placed, embellished clips. Coordinating nicely, Dane approaches in a perfectly tailored black suit with a viridian green shirt and no tie. Classic but not too formal is what Alka had advised, giving off a confident yet creative vibe.

“Good afternoon, Dane. Before we get started, I have some news.”

“Good news, I hope.”

“Extremely,” she says. “Your unexpected gambit has the full attention of Palace Arms. No one has enough shares to force a takeover so that gives them options. From what I understand, their board has heard many pitches but seriously entertained only ours. With investors jumping ship and sales tanking due to a now-toxic association with a disgraced Balthazar Nash, the sustained success of ChemiX and your positive ethos apparently make us a more viable option for them. I have drawn up all the paperwork. It just needs your signature.”

“Fantastic but I hope we did not overpay. Their market value has plummeted.”

“We intend to acquire for a fair price, one that is sure to make it worth their while. As well as ours, of course."

“That brings me to my proposal,” he says, sliding his datapad out and casting to the projector on her desk. “Presently, our eggs are all in one proverbial basket and that poses a problem considering the Empire’s equity in the company. It will also be difficult to acquire Palace Arms without a proper place to put them. My father wanted to diversify and this acquisition provides a unique opportunity to do so.”

She eases down into the chair with a smile, “I am all ears.”

“We rebrand with Gellar Industries becoming the primary holding company. ChemiX and Palace Arms would become pharmaceutical and weapons subsidiaries respectively. It diversifies our holdings, minimizes the risk if one were to go south, and gives us more leverage and control from shareholders with less than honorable intentions. Also, the liquidity of both allows us to pursue additional profitable ventures while maintaining a careful distance as the holding company.”
 
“I am impressed,” Irulan says, leaning back to scan his figures. “Your father had wanted this, diversifying beneath a central holding company, but I was reluctant to pursue it without your involvement. ChemiX is doing well and, as the entrusted steward of this company, I would prefer you had a hand in shaping your legacy not have it shaped for you. You just needed time.”

“So, you agree?”

“Yes, and I see how this could separate us from certain unscrupulous characters. There is an area of concern that I feel must be addressed.”

“Of course.”

She sighs, rising from the chair and walking around the desk.

“On one hand you have science and on the other technology. Both of those things would now be under a single, corporate umbrella. Do you see where I am going with this?”

Dane nods, “The danger in combining the two.”

"Biological weapons are not something to casually dabble in. There are implications far larger than profits, responsibilities I do not believe you want to shoulder. I can understand the appeal, having both at our disposal, but I would advise against any unethical inklings that may lead us and the galaxy at large into peril.”

“What makes you think I would want even want to explore that option?”

Irulan holds his gaze, “Because I know you know about the legacy gene.”

“I know of it but no one has bothered to fill me in on the details of what is essentially a weaponized version of my biology.”

“And you have every right to be angry about that. Rutherford kept this from you to protect you and Gemma. It’s application, in the wrong hands, has the potential for destruction.”

“More than potential, from what I hear.”

She does not miss a beat, having anticipated this conversation for years.

“The way it works with technology is unique and it was used to create several techno-organic beings, the most lethal of which murdered Valerie Gellar on Corellia. Your father took great care to ensure it would never again be used for such evil. These were lessons he learned the hard way, ways he regretted forever. I do not want that for you. I know he would not want that either.”

“I imagine not but what about Gemma? Does she have it as well?”

“No,” Irulan says. “Only you and, we assume, Riley Patten possess this gene.”

Ugh, Riley. Of course they share something like this.

“You assume? Based on what?”

“Traces found in his mother’s biological sample. It was never enough to do what was done with Valerie's. It is difficult to explain and there are many details I was never privy to but what we know is that, of the original Four, two had elevated midi-chlorian levels and two the legacy gene. It appears that pattern held true with you, Riley, Gemma, and Dahlia. While Gemma and Dahlia are sadly no longer with us, I know Director Veritaas has been diligent about protecting Riley on Corellia and your father implemented security measures here to prevent your biological material from being exploited.”

“You make it sound as if someone tried to.”

“That is because someone did. When you were younger, the lab was breached and your sample was stolen but the countermeasures rendered it useless. There has not been another attempt.”

Dane smirks, “I suppose it is not surprising that a sample of mine resides here.”

“Necessary in the event of illness or injury.”

“I get that. So, the legacy gene interfaces with technology in ways that can create life from nothing. Would that be considered a form of nanotech?”

“Not exactly,” she says. “Nanotech deals in the supramolecular and can be operated externally whereas the legacy gene is hereditary and its interactions with technology are distinctive.”

“Externally. It can be used to control others?”

“Particles introduced into a biological host could bind to areas that would make control possible. Why do you ask?”

“Hear me out, okay?” Dane takes a breath. “I am pretty sure Garron Prescott and Janessa Kain are being controlled.”

Irulan takes this in stride, “What would lead to believe that?”

“Both were missing for some time and now they are behaving...strangely.”

“I thought Garron joined the Republic liaison on sabbatical.”

“That is the story anyway.”

“You do not believe that?”

“No.”

“May I ask why?”

“If I disclose this theory, you will no longer have plausible deniability. Are you sure that is what you want?”

“Dane, you are scaring me. If I can help you, let me.”

He tells her that Garron went missing first, having never made it back to D’ian with Gemma. He sent Janessa to look for him on Chandaar but she vanished as well. When he returned from Hesperidium, Garron was waiting at the Gellar Estate with no memory of where he had been. His personality was different, timid, and cagier, which their physician believed to be an impact of post-traumatic stress. He divulges he has a source in the Republic who told him Janessa also magically reappeared and seemed devoid of empathy. He witnessed this himself interacting with her at the Imperial gala where she appeared cozy with Burke Pallus.

Irulan takes a moment to assess this information before responding.

“I suppose I do not have to tell you how concerning that is. Anything else?”

“Garron attacked me, having been activated by a phrase I did not recognize that originated from two-way listening devices I discovered hidden throughout my residence. I destroyed them and tried to keep him contained but I fear they were both sent back with a purpose.”

Worry begins to crease her delicate features, “What purpose?”

He is not sure she is ready for the grey-skinned, possibly Sith angle just yet. He would wait to see what Kaytt turned up on Chandaar before layering that into the mix. 

“Garron thinks he was sent here to kill me. I cannot speculate on Janessa but I do not trust her motives, especially if there is someone else pulling the strings.”

“Rightfully so given her history. I am sorry about Garron as I know how much of a beloved member of your family he has been. Do you have an idea who may be behind this?”

“It has Empire written all over it. They leveraged my father’s freedom for a stake in this company and have been eager to exploit it further. That is why we must acquire Palace Arms and spin-off ChemiX. It gives us power over their supply."

“Understood but why the inquiry about nanotech?” she asks carefully.

“I know the Empire was interested when they acquired equity. I overheard my father say as much which is why I am going to ask you now; did they pursue it?”

Irulan leans on her desk, “The Empire commissioned a nanotech product called Ibellum which was classified as ICS or the Imperial Control Serum. Our understanding of its purpose included eliminating fear responses from soldiers yet it clearly has other applications, including degrees of control over others injected with it. Your father had reservations, as did I, but the situation with his freedom and your safety did not allow for dissent or refusal. What you must understand is that this project came with a high degree of confidentiality but your role now makes all our dealings fully available to you."

Now things make a strange sort of sense. If the Empire could not bend or extort someone to their will then they had a method to ensure compliance. He also remembers something else. Back on Hesperidium, Quinn Kavanaugh displayed feats of strength and strategy that someone of her capacity and status could never possess. Hell, she took on their attacker and single-handedly dragged Quentin from the ocean after their shuttle crashed. Then she remembered none of it. Not the fight or the explosion. Nothing. Just as Garron remembered nothing after he attacked Dane. Was the Empire strategically embedding assets among them? He locks eyes with Irulan's.

“Can we test for it?”

“Of course.”

“Then I say we test Garron, if for no other reason than to rule it out. I do not know what we can do if we find it."

“I do.”

Dane’s mouth falls open, “You do?”

“Full disclosure, in developing Ibellum, Rutherford created a foil to their duplicity, an antidote called Corvais that renders the serum inert and flushes it from the host's system."

Irulan offers a hopeful smile.

“If they are being controlled by Ibellum, we have a cure."






-TBC

[Syren]

“You’re swept off of your feet
By superstitious signs
You’re blowing in the wind
Like you don’t trust your own mind.”

-Cold War Kids

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder 

With a satisfied sigh, Dane holds a trembling Alka against him. 

She smiles, curling into the nook of his shoulder. The Gellar Penthouse is quiet once again and he hopes their bedroom antics did not further disturb Garron in one of the guest rooms down the hall. The past few days had been a whirlwind but he had checked nearly everything off his mental list. The exception was getting Garron some serious help but first things first. Irulan presented to the board and they approved his proposal before making an official offer for Palace Arms. They would now become the weapons subsidiary under Gellar Industries. 

He feels both proud and vindicated. This is what his father always wanted for the business and it was an extreme pleasure to stick it to Baltazar Nash by stealing his company out from under him. If he dares return to the Sector, he will be apprehended or worse. There are a lot of members of the Direx Board out for his blood. He lost several friends in this ordeal and while the acquisition satiates some of his rage, it will never bring Preston, Roman, Ples, or Trichelle back. Their deaths would weigh on him forever. All he can do now is move forward – grow the business, cherish his relationship with Alka, help Garron, and thwart the Empire’s attempt at gaining leverage over him. 

Stepping out of the shower, Alka is beaming as she retrieves her outfit and dresses. 

“Someone is in a good mood. Guess I hit the spot.”

“Do not be so smug,” she says. “You are not the only one with good news.”

“Do tell.”

“I was promoted to principal at the company.” 

Dane’s face lights up, “Really? That is amazing! I get to tell everyone I am with the prima ballerina.”
 
“Primas are the female leads,” she quips coolly. “I am the sole principal dancer. There are not any male equivalents at the moment. Or ever, if we are being honest.” 

“An even higher honor. I hope there was not too much drama.”

“It is a theater company, Dane. There is always drama. The former principal retired and they had to promote another but I did beat out one with significant tenure and two others with considerable talent making me the youngest in their history.” 

He wraps his arms around her, “I am so proud of you. This is what you always wanted.”

“Look at us, becoming who we were meant to be.”

“You had doubts?”

“From a historical perspective of The Four, surviving high school was an anomaly and we barely made if off Hesperidium. Even though we are beating the odds now but, as heirs, you and I will always be targeted.” 

“Perhaps but can you, like, deal with that?”

“Only if we play the smart long-game. The Imperial Ambassador pushed you into this deal and I have not once heard you ask why.” 

“I know why,” he says. “The Empire is looking to get its hooks into the weapons supply chain. This acquisition allows me to set the terms. While they may have a stake in ChemiX, they have no such claim on Palace Arms or the larger Gellar Industries. If I control the supply of one, I can gain concessions on the other.”

“Are you not worried they will just contract with another dealer?”

“The truce may be hedging their bets but those aligned with the Republic may be less inclined to arm what was an enemy faction only a short time ago. They will deal because they have a vested interest in the outcome, including trying to control me.” 

“You and Irulan are already ready for that.”

“Exactly.”
 
She kisses him deeply before heading for the door. 

“Just remember to stay one step ahead. The last thing I want is to wind up another tragic statistic in this sordid tale.” 

Dane dresses quickly. She is not wrong. She was not wrong on Hesperidium either but he managed to get them out of that but it came at a price. It always does. He retrieves Garron and heads down to the labs where Irulan is waiting. She secured one for them to conduct testing in private. Dane is determined to get to the bottom of this and figure out what happened to Garron and Janessa and what exactly they are planning. If either was being controlled by Ibellum against their will, they would free them with his father’s anti-serum. 

“Are you ready?”

Garron nods, “I just want to be myself again.”

“That is the goal,” Irulan says. “Let us begin.”

She draws a few vials of blood and gets to work running the tests. While they wait for results, Irulan suggests a full body scan to look for any implants. Dane remembers reading about theorized Imperial experimentation. There were references to it in the holo-doc about their predecessors, once in relation to a missing student at North Coruscant High and another about a Hapan Admiral. Neither ended well from what he recalls. He hopes to spare Garron the same fate. 

The scan comes back clean. There are no implants but that only rules out one of three theories. Irulan pours over the data but sees nothing in his vitals or scans that would indicate any physical alterations were made. Once the test concludes, she pulls the results. Negative for Ibellum. Garron is not being controlled with the serum. It is possible that the same is true for Janessa. 

She asks for a sidebar, “If it is not Ibellum or an implant, what do you think has caused this change in behavior?” 

“If this is the work of the Empire, they must have known that anything they devised could potentially be undone by its maker so they may have gone another route.”

“Meaning what?”

“Meaning this may be a form of torture and conditioning…using the Force.”

“I do not suppose you have evidence of such an assertion.”

He smirks, “Call it a hunch now that we ruled the others out. This would be untraceable therefore absolving them of any liability. There are potential Sith in the mix so it tracks for me.”

“Sith? That is quite a speculation but for the sake of argument, to what end?”

“When Garron was trying to remember, he said that he believed he was sent here to kill me. The phrase that triggered him led him to attack me so I have no reason to doubt that. The question is what they would have to gain by eliminating me and what directive Janessa was given if she in fact was subject to the same process?" 

Irulan glances quickly at Garron then back at Dane. 

“With you gone, the company would be vulnerable.”

“My father’s written directives have it following a chain-of-succession beginning with me then Gemma then Dahlia. The company would still have familial representation and the controlling ownership stake.” 

“Not to sound insensitive but what good is a succession plan if the two following you in that chain are dead?”

“Well, one of them is.”

Irulan stiffens, “You mean…”

“Yes. Gemma is alive but must remain hidden. She is our insurance policy in all this. I need you to know that so in the event Garron or others are successful in taking me out, you have recourse against a takeover.”

“Clever,” she whispers. “I do not have to tell you how relieved I am to hear that.”

“I know and I apologize for keeping you in the dark for this long. It had to be done.”

“Understandable. What about Garron?”

Dane considers this, “Could the Force vaccine work? It is well-studied and readily available. Could it be used to disrupt any connection to the host?”

“As you know, the Force vaccine dampens one’s midi-chlorian count to undetectable levels that can prevent someone from finding them through their Force signature. It would not undo any psychological damage he has already endured. If he was tortured, he will need extensive therapy to heal. We have the resources for that. For now, we may be able to sever the location ties with the vaccine and keep Garron secure until we can engineer a workaround.”

He turns to take in the look of defeat on Garron’s face. His closest ally is slipping into insanity, unable to control his actions as he lingers in the uncertainty over what horror he may commit next. That is no way to live. If there was something they could do about it, even if it was a long-shot, they must save him from this hell. 

“Do it.”







-TBC

[Syren]

“Déjà vu
It’s holding me down
But I’ll come around.”

-Lastlings

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

The weeks are filled with business affairs.

Finalizing the acquisition and restructuring the companies beneath the Gellar Industries umbrella means Dane is front-and-center in it all. He and Irulan make the rounds on the CSA circuit. Meetings and interviews quickly consume his calendar with the hot story on the Holo focusing on the rise of the Gellar heir. Through all the tragedy and trauma, he finally takes his place in the world. With the exception of D’Ken Dawning and a few others with proverbial axes to grind with his father, the Direx Board largely welcomes him. The blame for the loss of the Aguilar and Corinthos heirs has landed squarely with Balthazar Nash, thanks to their carefully crafted lies. It leaves Dane and Alka the rising stars of the CSA, the former for his contribution to business and the latter for her contribution to the arts. They are focused on and fawned over, a position he feels more comfortable with over time. Although he puts on a good front publicly, he secretly frets over other matters.

They started Garron on the first round of Force vaccine and got him straight into therapy. It would not be easy or without pain but Dane is willing to try anything that will give Garron back some semblance of normalcy. His concern is coupled with dread over the news of the attack on Kaytt’s firm in the Republic capital. He is grateful that he has Alka’s upcoming performance to distract him, her first as principal. She had been on a grueling rehearsal schedule but he let her do her thing while he tended to business. Although he would not admit it when he was younger, Dane had a deep appreciation for dance. He was not graceful by any means but there was a profound respect for those that are. Something about the movements mesmerized him. Dane could watch Alka dance all night and so he gladly throws on a black Nurha’chi tux and heads out.

The Dream Emporium in the Mondder Spaceport is in full spectacle mode. The debut of the ballet The Shaded Solstice has apparently garnered quite a bit of attention. Anyone who is anyone in the Sector is here, mugging for the cams and mingling with other power players of industry. By now, Dane is used to the attention as he slips out of the hoverlimo and onto the crimson carpet leading up the steps to the performance hall. He nails all the poses Dahlia drilled into him over years then enters to find his seat. He spots Ambassador Burke Pallus across the grand foyer who makes eye contact and nods. He is not in the mood for all that tonight so he angles up the stairs. As an exclusive guest of the principal dancer, he settles into a cozy private balcony with a perfect view of the stage.

As the lights dim, he finds himself holding his breath. Alka is amazing from the moment she appears but it is her solo near the end of the third act that leaves the audience flattened with awe. She begins the dance in a white bodice with a small fringe skirt but, as she brings herself up into a relever and glissers across the stage, she begins a dizzying series of tourners that somehow turns the white outfit an ash grey that becomes black by the time she is just beneath him. She dips forward into a deep plier followed by a held étendre that sets in motion a series of masterful sauters that leave him stunned. When the curtain falls, the theater erupts in applause and he leaps to his feet, enthralled by it all. She has wanted this since they were kids and he has never been prouder or more in love with her than he is now.

Any erotic celebrations, however, would have to wait as Alka would be basking in the glow of her victory and rightful place in the dance world. He has arranged for a bouquet of rare flowers and a congratulatory note for her to find in her dressing room. This was her night and he was not going to spoil it with his urges or drama. Dane descends the steps of the performance hall and falls in with those exiting the Dream Emporium. As he approaches the hoverlimo, he finds someone leaning against it looking about as angry as he expected.

Kier Kincaid inhales sharply when he sees him, crossing sculpted arms across a broad chest.

“We need to talk.”

“I figured we might. Get in.”

Once inside and well on the way back to the Gellar Penthouse, Dane turns to him.

“What took you so long? I anticipated this confrontation months ago.”

“I did not want to do anything I would regret.”

“Smart,” he says, sighing. “This conversation may be better had over a few ales. What do you say?”

“I say that sounds like a plan.”

The Gellar Penthouse is quiet when they enter. Dane directs Kier to the kitchen while he checks on Garron who is asleep in his room. He hopes the treatments have brought him the beginnings of some peace. Back in the kitchen, he withdraws two ales and hands one to Kier.

“I suppose a toast would be inappropriate.”

“You could say that.”

“I get it,” he says. “You hold a grudge about Trichelle so you can say what you have to say.”

Kier grips the bottle tightly, “I have a lot of feelings about it. Even though we were not together anymore, I still cared about her. I told her not to go but she would not hear it. That place is wild. Bad shit happens in the Bolerathon Tower and I had this crazy feeling like I would never see her again. I did not expect to be right."

“You are not alone in your anger. Her sister will never forgive me, not that I can fault her for that. Or you, for that matter. There are many people who blame me for her death but you must know we did everything we could, man. I tried to get her out but it all happened so fast. The crash was…brutal. We almost drown in that shuttle. I do not know what else to say other than I am sorry.”

“I know,” Kier says after a long swig. “It was not you that I was really worried about. Dahlia and I spoke when she visited campus which led me to believe she may try to hurt Trichelle out of spite.”

“They seemed fine to me. This was not Dahlia's fault.

Actually, Trichelle was cozying up to Ples but that is not a detail that will benefit Kier at this point. He hears himself tell the lie and it lands like gospel truth. It was Dahlia, typically, of course, but few people know that. The lie is predicated on blaming a sole and familiar villain. For his part, Kier knows he may not have survived either if he had joined them. He seems lost since his glory days at Valor Prep, the shine of the being the golden boy tarnished by the reality of the Corporate Sector’s ruthless expectations. His face softens as he realizes why.

“I guess I am struggling to move on, find my place after the people I grew up with are now just…gone. Dahlia, Ples, and Trichelle are dead. No one has seen or heard from Tobias or Muriel since graduation. Then there is me. I survived but, like, so what? You know?”

“I know.”

“Right, sorry. You have lost more than most.”

“Actually, it is remarkable I function at all,” Dane says wryly.

“How do you do it?”

He pulls from the bottle, reflecting on Alka, Garron, and the business. It gives him an idea that could benefit both of them. Kaytt Corinthos may have survived the attack, just barely if the Holo is any indication, but there is no way she can stay in the game. She has been stirring up trouble long before Dane offered to help stick it to two galactic powers. There are more ways to Janessa than through Kaytt.

“A purpose helps. You just need to find yours.”

“Oh yeah, where?”

“In an organization that values your talents as well as your history in the Sector. You are in marketing at university, something your family is known and respected for. What if you could gain experience alongside your education and position yourself to take this place by the balls when you graduate?”

“How? Working for you?”

Sales and marketing are the family business for the Kincaid’s, not all of it on the up-and-up according to some of the whispers. Kier is dense, yes, but hard-working and amenable to a shifting moral ground that operates on a level he does not comprehend enough to capitalize on. Most of the staff at Palace Arms had been expunged or self-ejected out of deluded solidarity with Nash. It is just as well since Dane could not trust them anyway. He needs a square jaw and wandering eye to sell it, someone even an allegedly programed Imperial plant could not resist.

“Think of it as a new purpose with potentially significant returns for you.”

“What would you want me to market and sell?”

Dane leans back on the counter, “Weapons.”

“Playing on base fears and tribe mentality is easier than you think.”

“Which is why I think you would be great at it. Palace Arms could use your expertise with a particularly tricky account. Those overseeing it are some of the best and there is a lot of experience to be gained.”

“Sounds interesting. What account?”

“The Republic account.”







-TBC

[Syren]

“Light lit, no cap, heart spilled all over the floor mat
Tongue out, I don’t know how to hold that
Nowadays I don’t really want to hold back.”

-PawPaw Rod

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

Terror comes when he is in the throes of a fitful slumber. 

Garron is bound in a dark room, strung up against a stone wall. He does not remember how he got there or how long it has been. The grey woman claims she wants to be his friend and urges him to trust her. To confide, confess. He resists which only causes more pain and he can only steel himself against it for so long. He is not a Jedi or an HRD. He hopes his body gives out before his mind. That is when she appears, coming in the night after the torturous searing heat of the lightning subsides. He knows it cannot be real but a part of him wants to believe it. Kylie Miranda kneels beside him, stroking the side of his dirty face and telling him everything will be okay. She talks of Celeste and Rutherford, conjuring pleasant memories that turn to ash in the stark reality of it all. 

“You let us die,” she says as the edges of her mouth come apart to reveal a horrifying row of jagged teeth. “And in order for the galaxy to truly be safe, Dane Gellar must die as well.”

*

Dane readies himself for the relaunch party for Gellar Industries. He has grown quite adept at styling himself these days, pairing monochromatic suits with striking shirts in a complementary palette. Muted blues and greens seem to work best. He pads around the living room of the Gellar Penthouse barefoot, enjoying a pre-game ale, when an incoming transmission disrupts the quiet. He moves to the console and taps on the display which causes a ghostly blue hologram of Gemma to materialize in front of him. 

“Not exactly covert, Gem. You are supposed to be dead.”
 
“This is one of the most secure channels we have and it is important. Hey, you look nice.”

“Thank you,” he says, tugging on the lapel of his jacket. “Party tonight for our rebrand.” 

“I saw. Congratulations, dad would be so proud. How is Garron?”

“Not great, unfortunately. He tried to off me and continues a downward depressive spiral from the trauma he suffered. Testing revealed he is not being controlled through the nano-serum but it does not rule out psychological torture through the Force so we started him on a round of Force vaccine to sever the ties and keep him hidden. He sleeps a lot and I am worried but not much we can do until we figure out why he was sent here. Something tells me it was not just to kill me.”

Gemma frowns deeply, “I am so sorry to hear that but I am grateful you are unharmed. If he tried to kill you, he may be operating on a directive that would further the prophecy.” 

“As much as I do not want to believe that, you may be right. What little Garron can remember is telling as he spoke of a grey-skinned woman. Ring any bells?”

“No…”

“I know, right? Sinister to the max. We also have another problem in the form of Janessa Kain. Shit has gone south in the Republic in more ways than one and my contact is no longer viable to continue pursuing the case. Currently working another angle but hoping for no other surprises so I can get to the truth of where they were and what they actually want.”

She makes a face, “Well…”

“Oh boy. What is it?” 

“For starters, Dahlia is alive.” 

He does not even blink and instead moves a finger around his head, “See this face? This is my not surprised face. But if she survived, can the same be said about our attacker?”

“Probably.” 

“Wonderful. You need to watch yourself, Gemma. If that thing was sent to kill us then it is unlikely to stop until it succeeds.” 

“Us being the operative word. What about you?”

“I have tons of protection here. Less so back on D’ian but success waits for no one.” 

“You are taking this better than I did. I believe the Sith are behind this and they must have something to gain from the prophecy being fulfilled which brings me to my next point.” 

He takes a swig from the bottle, “Why do I get the feeling it is a doozy?”

Gemma outlines her theory, complete with the loop, ties to the Voss-Ra, and outlandish plan to thwart the prophecy through their own orchestrated demise. To his credit, Dane takes it in stride, considering the implications and possibilities of these actions. He does not even call her out on getting information from the Force ghost of her sister considering phantom-Valerie led him on his own adventure to self-discovery years ago. An adventure that brought him full circle as the head of the newly minted Gellar Industries and keeper of the legacy gene. Instead, he settles on practicality and compartmentalization, a trait inherent to the Gellar’s. 

“Holy shit, Gemma. Okay. Although I can certainly explore that option with Irulan, I would prefer to focus on taking out the Voss-Ra and, like, not dying. I have things to do, you know. However, there are certain variables that may jeopardize your contingency. Cloning in and of itself is not new. The data on my genetics and its applications are a different story unless they are buried somewhere in these labs. Knowing our father, that is entirely possible. Irulan seemed hesitant to discuss it and got cagey when I pressed for acceptable uses. Clearly, she knows something. There is also the question of our memories. Even if we mapped them, there may be a significant gap between that point and the possible activation of our hypothetical second-selves. Those blanks could be difficult to reconcile if this all falls apart.” 

“Understood. Is there a way to map our memories remotely?”

“Ill-advised,” he says, falling into a chair to pull on a pair of black socks. “From what I understand, it is better to have them on secure hardware. That is if you even have the right equipment to perform that kind of procedure. Where are you anyway?”

“Best not to say.” 

“Let me rephrase. Will you be in a location that has advanced tech?”

“Yes.” 

“Good. Check out your options and let me know. If you did manage to pull this off, how would I get them?”

She smiles, “I will send someone. With Garron compromised, you may have protection but I would feel a hell of a lot better with a dedicated and trusted protector watching over you.” 

“A protector with a deadly light sword and self-righteous inclinations?” 

“Bingo, brother. Last thing…”

“There is more? Glad you are staying busy in purgatory.” 

“Plotting to stop a galactic threat does help pass the time. Given your recent acquisition, we have come into possession of something that could help us. If I gave you the specs of a weapon, how long would it take to reproduce and manufacture it on a larger scale?”

“It would depend on what it is.” 

“Say, a superlaser.”

“Wow, you are dabbling in mass destruction now? Does that not violate some bullshit Jedi code or something?”

“We no longer share the same vision of justice and self-preservation.” 

“That is new. Look at you going rogue.” 

“Much to their chagrin. They are not fond of independent thinking. Besides, they abandoned us, Dane. We have been on our own for a long time. Too long. The Republic is crumbling and the Empire is waiting in the wings to seize on this opportunity. The fate of The Four depends on us. Dahlia is a Sith and as they are behind this plot to see us perish and put her on the throne I will do everything in my power to stop it. The prophecy must end.” 

“I hear you. I do not want to be trapped in this cycle any more than you do but it sounds like there are forces far greater than we realize at work here. Who is to say they have not already thought of these counter moves? What if we are just spinning our wheels and everything that happens is meant to happen?” 

“That is deeply disturbing but I have hope. Our predecessors did not realize their situation until it was too late. Those that came before them probably never knew anything at all. It is up to us. I pray that we have enough information and foresight to prevent the cycle from starting again. I love you, Dane.”  

“I know,” he says, standing and stepping into polished loafers. “I love you too. Be fucking careful, okay?” 

“I will. You too."  

The hologram fades and Dane sighs, finishing the bottle of ale. It is a lot to digest and quite the divergence from the sister he once knew. The Four survived. Again. Gemma was right about the loop and they are once again playing a game their parents tried desperately to keep them away from. Her plan may be bold and more than a little insane but not more insane than their actual lives. He applauds her newfound willingness to break the rules when others have refused to play by them all along. If this was all rigged in Winton's favor then they are going to have to resort to drastic moves. Dane is more concerned about broaching the subject with Irulan and glances at himself in the mirror. At least he looks damn good. 

Alka would be arriving momentarily so he cracks open another bottle and waits. 

*

The party itself is fairly typical; a slate of questionable allies intermingling before the announcement followed by a champagne toast. Irulan is cordial and a consummate professional, keeping others at a careful distance. Alka radiates and commands attention wherever she goes, mercifully redirecting conversations she knows they just as soon avoid. Ambassador Pallus makes an appearance but wisely avoids engaging him. The venture that kicked off the corporate restructuring may have been his suggestion but he also thinks he has Dane under his thumb. The stupid rich Baron with a company to throw around. The Empire may have shares in the ChemiX but he will not let them get their hands on Gellar Industries. They are just as implicated in the lie as he is and this whole thing unravels with the mere suggestion that there was Imperial involvement in the deaths of two of the most prominent Corporate Sector heirs.

Kier leaves for the Republic in the morning and he would feel bad for sending him into an extremely volatile and potentially dangerous situation but the guy needs a purpose. There is only a little guilt over the fact that all Kier’s friends are dead or missing and he is in the midst of an existential crisis. Better to channel that energy into a project that can help them. In Dane’s devious little mind, the ends almost always justify the means. 

As the evening winds down, Alka dances with him to the music of a classic four-piece band. It was Irulan's idea to class up the event and a good one at that. For a moment, everything is just as it should be. They have each other and endless possibilities in their respective careers. He is riding high but has enough sense to remember that, in the previous loop, Gellar was the first to die. Gruesomely and publicly. Perhaps Gemma’s offer of protection is not such a bad idea after all although the thought of a Jedi hovering around judging his every move is super cringe. Alka’s lips brush his ear. 

“Take me upstairs.”

He smiles and guides her back toward the lift, waving at Irulan as they pass. They make out fiercely on the way up, his hand sliding into the slit of her dress. She playfully squeezes the bulge in his pants as she steps out and heads toward the penthouse door. Dane is rearing to go but follows slowly, admiring the way she leans seductively against the frame. Anticipation is everything. Inside, he takes her hand and leads her toward the bedroom but the pale beams through the skylights reveal droplets of dark liquid in an uneven pattern leading toward the kitchen. He hits the lights and sees that is a trail of blood, some of it larger and deeper than it probably should be. Alka stays behind him as he creeps forward, rounding the island to find Garron on his knees staring at the floor. 

There is a large blade beside him, stained crimson, and both wrists are slashed open vertically. The pool of blood around him is unnervingly dark and growing as he raises his head slowly until their eyes meet. The look of desperation is crushing. 

“I am sorry but I…I do not think that I can do it…”

He slumps forward, hitting the tile with a wet slap. Dane is frozen in place, staring at Garron bleeding out in front of him as Alka claws his sleeve to shreds and screams. 






-TBC

[Syren]

Let's go paint the town
On our way home
The blinking lights
Are breaking bones
Cast all your spells
And then you have
That good old fashion razzmatazz."

-I DON'T KNOW HOW BUT THEY FOUND ME

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

Given the nature and severity of the situation, Dane has Garron committed to the private ChemiX medical wing under close psychological observation. The reality is heavy. He almost lost him. If he and Alka had arrived minutes later, they may be mourning him now instead of watching his vitals. He may look peaceful now but Dane knows that is not true. Whatever Garron is fighting against mentally, it drove him to attempt suicide. Drastic measures. Still, Dane cannot get those words out of his head. Not sure he could do what? Kill him? Garron already attacked him once but it has become frighteningly clear a traditional path will not solve the problem. The hold on him is too strong. If this is not medical, it could be mystical. There may be something to Gemma’s offer as sending a Jedi his way could help to unravel this mystery and free Garron from the anguish and suffering.

Gemma’s overarching agenda and ask, however, could pose a problem as he would first have to get past Irulan.

There are far too many nuances and variables to circumvent her entirely. Despite what he told Gemma, Dane is unable to execute something this technologically insane on his own. They would need Irulan’s access and authorization. Dane calls a meeting and engages her in Gemma’s plight as well as the planned solution. Initially, she rejects it outright, predictably claiming the whole thing unethical and grotesque but he urges her to keep an open mind. After he explains what is at stake here – a powerful, dark force determined to end them either way – she softens.

But only slightly.

“A loop theory, Force ghosts, the Sith? Surely you must realize how this sounds.”

He shrugs, “I am sure my father thought the same when he was first presented with the prophecy. Look how that turned out.”

“Mistakes were made.”

“Mistakes? He sacrificed Valerie to stay in power, Irulan. That is more than a minor character flaw. I am not blaming him for a terrible choice made under what I am sure was considerable duress but you cannot tell me that choice did not ultimately lead to the final outcome. The Four were killed along with almost everyone else who helped them. Gemma believes this ancient sect, the Voss-Ra, has been influencing these cycles for ages in order to secure a Winton victory – a victory that can only be ensured with the deaths of Masterton, Patten, and Gellar. Given all that has happened to us, I am inclined to agree. We cannot let that happen. I will not let that happen.”

Irulan stiffens, eyes drifting through the window to Garron lying unconscious in the hospital bed.

“You said the Jedi were going after the Voss-Ra to stop them.”

He recalls something Valerie’s snarky ghost once told him shortly after dropping the bomb about his father’s numerous misdeeds.

The blood that flowed through my veins also runs through yours

He did not need the Force when he had genetics.

“As much as I trust my wily sister and her annoyingly earnest boyfriend, there is no guarantee they will succeed. She is right that there has to be a contingency and we actually have the resources to make it happen.”

The ChemiX labs have all the tech they would need and the legacy gene gives them the ability to create life from nothing. It is an ability the others lack, have always lacked. Perhaps this is what Valerie was trying to tell him all along. Was his purpose to save them all from the prophecy through his genetic loophole? He could be the hero of this cycle, rising from the proverbial ashes with Gemma and Riley to destroy the Voss-Ra’s plan. Dane quite likes that idea, especially if it breaks Dahlia’s entitled stride. She is not as clever as she fancies herself to be.

Irulan, on the other hand, is on a more linear thought process, “What about Garron?”

“I think he is a tool in the conspiracy to fulfill the prophecy just like Janessa. They seem to have been reprogrammed with specific objectives. Garron’s is pretty clear but I am working on uncovering Janessa’s.”

“Tell me you did not send that poor boy into the Republic to find out.”

“Kier can handle himself and it is worth the risk. Over four thousand people died in the Bolerathon Tower. The Voss-Ra is clearly not fucking around, Irulan.”

“Why? Why them and why now?” 

“To force the desired outcome? They are playing the long game. It is the same as any hostile takeover – go to the source and convince them to replace one master with another. It seems like a choice when the alternative is to chip away until it becomes the only option. According to Gemma, they have been chipping away for generations but there are variables that may also influence the outcome. Others that can shift the balance out of their favor.”

“If Dahlia really is alive then…”

“Why not just kill her instead of going to these lengths?”

“I am ashamed to even think it but yes. Taking her out of the equation would be a much more direct path to your goal.”

“True but Gemma believes that eliminating Dahlia would only restart the cycle and any offspring we have would face the same shit. So, we attack the problem from two different angles; stopping the Voss-Ra or circumventing the prophecy by making them believe they won. Personally, I prefer the former but better to plan for anything.”

Irulan holds his gaze, “And what do you believe, Dane? You are taking an awful lot on faith here and asking me to do the same.”

It is a fair question; one he spent a lot of time avoiding. He did not understand his place in all this and thought their predecessor’s fates played out as a direct result of a zealous man. Turns out, that was only partially true. The Voss-Ra used Winton to try and fulfill the prophecy and they very nearly succeeded. They had used all of their parents in some way and he does not want to wind up perpetuating these events for another go-round. Gemma may be going to extreme’s but they either give it all they have or doom themselves and others to repeat it. On that, they are entirely aligned.

Fuck that noise.

“My father believed it enough to lose his wife and daughter thinking it would elevate Valerie to greatness. Instead, she was intentionally put in harm's way for something that was never really true to begin with. The real kicker in all this. The prophecy was never a Gellar’s to win.
Sucks for us? I do not think so. I may be a lot of things but I am no dupe. If we want our freedom from this, we are going to have to take it and I need your help.”

It is as certain of something as he has ever felt. She lets several moments pass before speaking again.

“You feel this is the only way to avail yourself of the prophecy and save your family?”

“I do.”

She nods, “Then there is something you must see.”

Irulan leads him back to her office, the one that once belonged to Rutherford Gellar, and then closes and locks the door behind them. He is intrigued but also terrified. Irulan Reeves has never been what most would call forthcoming and kept her cards close to the chest. This endeared her to Rutherford and made her someone both feared and respected within the Corporate Sector. She rounds her massive desk and touches the center of the milky stone slab accent. Dull red lights fade from the contact points of her fingertips. He is only mildly surprised to see a rectangular section in the center of the slab cave inward and slide open to reveal a small lift. She opens it using a biometric pad and steps inside, waiting as he reluctantly follows.

“Where does this lead?”

“Your father had many secrets, Dane. A must in his line of work. In the Corporate Sector. To win you must cover every angle, however grim or unlikely. Aside from myself, and now you, there is only one other person who knows about this.”

“About what?”

The lift descends all the way down the Gellar Tower and below the surface, opening into a wide access tunnel which she begins to move through slowly. At the end of the corridor, she opens two sets of doors that reveal a sterile lab. As the lights flicker on across the room in sections, something curious catches his attention – four cylindrical tanks illuminated by a ring of blue light around the top. They are empty, thankfully, but no less sinister.
 
“This.”

“Are those…?”

“Cloning tanks? Yes.”

Dane’s jaw tightens, “You said my father was against these things given what happened on Corellia. You called it grotesque, unethical, and dangerous. Now you are telling me those were lies as well?"

“No,” she says, unphased by his outburst. “He believed the same until…”

“Until what?”

“Until you were all kidnapped. Rutherford was beside himself with worry and had these chambers constructed out of desperation that he may lose you. He confided in me because he knew Celeste would never agree or understand, not after what happened to Valerie. To all of them. The legacy gene held the power of immortality and that kind of power corrupts, as the galaxy both witnessed and endured. He stored your genetic material for many reasons but there was always the possibility lurking in his mind that you would be taken from him. This was his way of ensuring he could bring you back. Mercifully, he never had to use them. You were returned safely shortly after their completion and they have lain dormant ever since.”

“Why not destroy them?”

Irulan turns to him, “For exactly the same reason you are asking this of me now. Somehow, he knew this was not over. Would never be over. I had hoped he was wrong, that everything he felt and did around the legacy gene was out of a guilt he could never let go of. Based on what you have told me, what I have seen throughout the galaxy, it is I who was wrong. So, I will help you.”

He steps forward to place a hand on one of the tanks.

“This…can recreate us?”

“Traditional cloning would produce a duplicate that lacked any of your personality or memories. Looking the same is not being the same. Even with the most advanced imprinting, the results are unstable and often lead to insanity. A technorganic clone, using the legacy gene, would be capable of handling and processing the memory flash although you would essentially be only part human. To the best of my knowledge, this process has never been attempted or tested and there is no telling what the end result would be.”

“But it is possible?”

“Yes,” she says, quietly horrified. “It is possible.”

“Can you do it?”

“I am afraid I have neither the experience nor skills for such an undertaking but I do know someone who does, someone your father trusted implicitly. Someone who helped create Corvais, the antidote to the Imperial-ordered nano-serum, Ibellum. Doctor Maumbile is a master geneticist who studied with the Lurian’s and assisted your father in this secret endeavor.”

“Perfect.”

“Not so fast. Doctor Maumbile must agree and you will need Gemma and Riley’s flash memory.”

"And I will soon have them,” he says, staring at the eerie blue glow of the tank. “We begin with me.”







-TBC

[Syren]

“In a way, it's all a matter of time
I will not worry for you, you’ll be just fine
Take my thoughts with you and when you look behind
You will surely see a face that you recognize.”

-Olive

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

Dane goes about business as usual - at least on the surface. His mind turns over the many angles of the path forward. There are no easy choices with risks piling up all over the place. Calculated risks, his father used to say. The pain would be worth it for the right results and freeing themselves from the shackles of this dreaded prophecy business seems well worth any suffering. Hell, they have suffered quite a bit already and they may actually have to die for this shit. Even that will be worth it to beat Dahlia at her own game and stick it to those damned Imperial bastards. He is driven by a smug sense of spite that would not only avenge them but Rutherford, Valerie, Blair, and any other Gellar caught in a game rigged by zealots that cost their family dearly. He hopes Gemma and Riley are able to destroy the Voss-Ra and burn every damn thing they believe to the ground. However, the thought serves as cold comfort to the other pressing matters at hand.

With Garron committed, he finds solace in the fact that he cannot harm himself or others. Unless the Jedi can conjure up a cure then he fears his lifelong protector would be doomed to this agony and torment. When he visits, Garron is withdrawn and riddled with guilt. He admits to a deep compulsion he cannot explain, one that is triggered by Dane’s presence. There is a need to end him and fighting it brings about waves of depression and hopelessness. The doctors are working with him on memory recovery but whoever did this inflicted immeasurable and lasting cognitive damage. He only remembers snippets through the pain, the gray-skinned woman an enigmatic but dominant presence but that recall lacks any context or motive. He does not know who she is or what she wants, aside from Dane Gellar dead. Given what Gemma has shared about the loop and his knowledge of their familial history (courtesy of Valerie’s snarky spirit), he deduces this has the prophecy written all over it. Garron must have been sent to finish off the second act by taking out the Gellar and put the remaining members of The Four on high alert.

The bloodshed that followed in the last cycle was nothing short of profound.

The contingency, fueled by Irulan’s revelations, still has a way to go. She reached out to Doctor Maumbile on his behalf who agreed to return to the CSA and meet with Dane. In the interim, there is another issue he must address. Something he has been dreading but knows he has to confront. He sets the stage, looking dapper in a fitted blazer and slacks, for Alka's arrival at his residence atop the Gellar Tower. She slips out of her coat to reveal a short, gauzy wrap dress in muted mauve that accentuates the nuances of her bronzed skin tone. He kisses her but her eyes drift uneasily toward the kitchen.

“This is the first time I have been back here since…you know.”

“Weird, right?”

“Knowing that Garron’s blood still stains your floor? Yes. Of course, it is. I am glad you are getting him the help he needs but it is still something I will not be able to get out of my mind for a long time.”

“Guess you’re not hungry then.”

“Are you kidding?” she says with an exasperated laugh, breezing past him. “I danced my ass off today. I’m starving.”

Dane catered in, something decadent and befitting the heaviness of what he must disclose. He stares at her across the table. She is so beautiful and he wonders if he has always been in love with her. They clashed as children but there was something there. He cannot imagine life without her after everything that has happened but it is a selfish desire. He realized that after facing the full gravity of what he felt he had been called to do. Staring at those tanks really crystalized it for him. His part in all of this. Despite the Gellar’s ruthless and tarty reputation, Dane actually wants to settle down. He wants to have a life, career, and family that is raised on D’ian the same way he was. A new generation full of possibilities. He spent much of his life up to this point bitter about Dahlia’s and Gemma’s connection to the Force and the incredible power that came with it. Now he knows the legacy gene is his power. The power to circumvent the prophecy through the failsafe built into his genes.

It is a choice he can make for himself but he cannot make it for her.

“I have to tell you something.”

"In an ominous tone, no less. This better not break my heart.”

“It might.”

And he tells her. Everything. Gemma’s theory, Dahlia’s survival, confirmation of the loop, the link between the prophecy and the Voss-Ra, and the insane plan to stop it all through their deaths and resurrections using a similar material and process that created a genocidal, sentient monster. The look of horror that causes her features to crease is deeply troubling enough but they merge seamlessly into fury. She wants to know how he can even think this plan could work, rising from the chair with the same intensity as her voice. She raises valid points but he must be prepared to do what is necessary. If they are unable to stop the Voss-Ra and he must die for the prophecy, it would destroy any chance they have with one another.

“If we want the same things then why are you doing this?"

He stares up at her, “Because I will not damn you and our future to be prey for the prophecy.”

“Gemma and Riley can stop this and when they do, we can be free. Free to do whatever, be whoever we want to be. Here. Together.”

It sounds lovely. Perfect, even. But he knows it is part of the lie they have been telling themselves since they returned to the Corporate Sector from Hesperidium. His father knew it when he refused to destroy the tanks and kept their genetic samples on hand. They knew it after Preston exploded, Roman committed suicide, Ples was cut in half, and Trichelle coded in a hospital. This is not over. Dane is a player in this game which makes Alka a target just like everyone else that was sacrificed for the ones who came before.

“There are no guarantees, Alka. We both know that. I did not want to believe it either but the prophecy looms over everything we do. Gemma is right, it will never end unless we end it. One way or the other.”

“And you would risk losing me to do it?”

The question hangs in the air like a bladed threat, full of both hope and dread.

“Yes.”

She shudders visibly, bringing a hand to her lips. He cannot tell if she is going to cry or scream. Instead, she glares at him as a tear slides slowly down a flushed cheek. Swallowing what feels like a myriad of mounting obscenities, Alka leans down to kiss him. It is deep with lips that tremble beneath the weight of what they feel. When she breaks she lingers.

“Fuck you, Gellar.”

Then she is gone.









-TBC

[Syren]

“A stone in the sea
Is swallowing me
Drifting into the ground
An incoming tide
So fierce you can’t hide
Takes you until you drown.”

-Wavves

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

Dane Gellar is still grouchy over his breakup with Alka.
 
Yeah, yeah, he pulled the trigger for what feels like all the right reasons but it still hurts. They had been through a lot together, more so than most couples with a lifetime of adventures. That is unfortunately not necessarily a good thing. Perks of prophecy popularity, he muses bitterly. In typical fashion, the press was quick to notice their presence in high profile places without the other but, before speculation could run rampant, their respective publicists released a brief statement. It confirmed their separation but continued mutual love and respect which is true, at least on his part. Alka, on the other hand, hates his guts right now and that's fair.
 
He’s the asshole and it is a part he is willing to play. It sucks and he misses her but he would miss her more if she was dead. As selfish and self-destructive as he can be, he loves her too much for that. Dane needs to steer the narrative back to his day-to-day business dealings while plotting for their contingency behind the scenes. Not hard when Irulan has laid the groundwork for an impressive rise to prominence in his father’s long and dubious shadow. She kept Rutherford’s secrets and the organization moving forward while Dane dicked around in denial and grief. He owes Irulan everything for that so, while his name may be on the building and digital letterhead, it is her company.

Dane just works here.
 
After breaking from a series of surprising focused and productive operations meetings, he retreats to his office for a moment of peace. It is short-lived. A comm from Chandaar comes through. Finally, he hopes, an update from his amateur operative. Kier Kincaid’s form materializes in front of his desk, tinged a ghostly purple that cannot hide the sly simper. Feels promising already.
 
“How goes it?”

“Productive. I am learning a lot.”
 
“I'm sure. Well, let’s hear it then, and don’t skimp on the details. I am hard-up for salacious gossip that does not involve my personal life.”

“I heard. The Holo tabs is all over it. Sorry about Alka. I thought you two were endgame.”

“You and me both, man. So, what tales do you have to tell?”
 
Kier stiffens, conjuring up an appropriate summary of his exploits in the Republic capital. He had been spending quite a bit of time with Janessa Kain. Dane was correct in theorizing that she would be drawn to him. He was not counting on being drawn to her as well. She is striking, incredible, insatiable, but he kept the directives top of mind. He first engaged her professionally, subtly expressing Palace Arms’ reluctance to further provide weaponry with the rising levels of violence against Republic citizens. It struck a combative chord. She found it odd they would suddenly take such a morally superior stance given their previous nonchalance at internal Republic affairs. These matters had been brewing for years without so much as an objection from them. It was a valid point. New leadership, new focus, Kier explained but she remained unamused and called their bluff. She speculated that perhaps Republic credits may be better spent elsewhere. Thankfully, they armed Kier with more than just the echoes of Gellar’s meddling. He told her that the escalating clashes with protesters, outfitted with their products, have caused others to reconsider doing business with them and the sum of that whole far exceeded that of the Republic contract. Their corporate delegation came to see what could be done about it.
 
“Nice,” Dane interrupts with dark glee. “I bet that broke her smug stride.”

“Yeah, but only because it is true."

“Right. Consumers are increasingly aware of causes they personally support and are more than willing to spend or withhold credits accordingly. However, she also knows that they may have a difficult time obtaining another supplier that does not also oppose their tactics. Not like it is not going to stop her from insinuating action on their part. It’s the usual corporate two-step. We threaten them, they threaten us and we find a mutually profitable compromise. But we are better positioned here and I hope you were too. Their viable alternative is BlasTech Industries and they only still exist in two places. Druckenwell may side with Corellia in all this and Byblos has a history of suppression so they are unlikely to take kindly to the subjugation and violence that abounds. Palace Arms was their moral loophole in business and one that we can easily close if necessary.”

“Smooth. Janessa did strike a more conciliatory tone after that but remained, uh, skeptical of our misgivings.”
 
“Marvelous, we just need her to know we are not fucking around."

Dane smirks, settling back into the chair, hoping Kier’s reputation as somewhat of a player would find purchase in the nuanced trappings of Republic business affairs.
 
“And on a personal note? Tell me it got weird.”

“It got weird, man.”

“Kinky, I like it. How so?”

“I tried to casually engage her about Garron Prescott as you instructed but it was kind of difficult weaving the topic of a past lover into what quickly became a…heated situation. And it was hot. Mind-blowing, actually but she seemed to glaze over when I asked about their time on the sabbatical. Even then, the details were superficial at best.”
 
“Like she doesn’t remember?”

“Like she legitimately doesn’t know. The look on her face was…blank. There was nothing there. Her demeanor completely changed, almost as if she was trying to place it but never could. Then she snapped right out of it and back onto me. Mentally unstable women may be the best lovers but damn. What happened to her?”

“Nothing good. Nice work, Kincaid. Keep me updated.”

The hologram fades and his eyes drift to the spectacular views of Mondder beyond the floor-to-ceiling windows. For a lost and traumatized former jock looking to prove himself, Kier has done well. Even with Janessa stunned by the prospect of losing a valuable supplier, he still needs something more conclusive than a blank expression. He did not really expect that she would be able to recall the details of her “sabbatical” with Garron because it probably never happened. She was taken, just as Garron was, likely by the same thing. The Inquisitor. Janessa may have been brainwashed and fed that story to cover their absences but he suspects it serves as a cover for something far more sinister. Something Garron was willing to try and kill himself over. Kier would not be able to crack her surface much further but they do have a committed Garron downstairs. Could their psychologists peel back those layers to reveal the whole truth or would it harm him further? Dane tried pressing before with disastrous results. Would hurting him be worth it if they knew what they were sent back to do?
 
Dane is starting to think it might be but the desk console flashes, drawing his attention away.
 
“Gellar here”

“It’s Irulan. Our guest has arrived.”

“On my way,” he says, tapping off and heading for the door. His heart picks up speed as he breezes down the corridor toward the corner suite. Would he be receptive to their plan or reject them outright? The possibility that their contingency could all end here does not escape him. Everything hinging on Gemma's magic powers and Riley's quirkiness does not sit well with him so he needs to make this happen. He pauses at the door and takes a breath.

Here we go.
 
Inside, Irulan rises behind her massive desk, glancing toward an older gentleman slowly climbing out of a chair. He is human; short with worn dark skin, mid-to-late sixties if Dane had to guess, and what he thinks might be curiosity creasing his eyes behind a pair of thinly framed glasses.
 
“Well, hello."
 
Irulan smiles tightly, “Dane Gellar, I would like you to meet doctor Ulu Maumbile.”









-TBC

[Syren]

“The clouds are coming in and as she cries into her river
Stars are shining bright, only way you couldn’t see her
Oh, she’s hiding
Inside, you see she’s trying.”

-ZHU & Yuna
 
Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder: Gellar Tower

Maumbile appears genial, almost entirely unimposing, but if he is here then that is clearly not the case. In that mind lies an ability to bridge life and technology, a rare skill he hopes will buy them insurance against an increasingly growing threat. Here is to hoping he is up to blurring the same ethical lines he very nearly almost did with his father. Dane flashes a winning smile and clasps his hands over the doctors.

“It is a pleasure to meet you. Thank you so much for coming.”

“To be honest, I was not sure I would.”

“Curious as to which part of our situation changed your mind.”

“Miss Reeves kept the details sparse but relevant. Given how much trust Rutherford placed in her, that you no doubt place in her as well, I knew I could not refuse a meeting if the situation was indeed as dire as indicated.”

Dane’s face grows harder, “It is and exactly why we need your help.”

“You must have a million questions.”

“One or two,” he admits. “But I would love it if we could start with the equipment you built for my father.”

Maumbile glances at Irulan who calls the secret lift that would take them down to the lab. The cursory context conversation on the ride gives his already complex father yet another intriguing layer. The doctor was a prominent geneticist involved with something called the GURI project but balked at the implications and shift in a more nefarious direction. So, he left the project only for Rutherford Gellar, bitter at Alexander Winton for everything that happened with Abra and Blair, to leverage his vast network of contacts to discover the origin of the monster that murdered Valerie. He worked his way back to the GURI project and, eventually, tracked down doctor Maumbile. He carried an immense sense of guilt, knowing that handing Valerie over to Winton is what led him to pay the ultimate price in the form of his family. That choice nearly consumed Corellia and could have threatened larger galactic security had it not been stopped. The doctor rebuffed him at first, PHAGE was gone and the threat had passed, but Rutherford made an appeal that swayed him. It was a chance to use the process for more altruistic purposes.

They step out of the lift and move toward the cloning tanks that blink into view as the room lights come up.

“Did he tell you about the prophecy?”

Maumbile’s sigh implies this has weighed heavily on him, “He did which only proves there are some outcomes one can never plan for.”

“Think of this as us hedging our bets.”

“You have not convinced me yet, young Gellar. I know what your fathers’ motivations were both initially and when it came to his children. I cannot yet say the same for yours.”

Dane had prepared the pitch, anxiously reworking it over in his mind while they waited for the doctor to arrive. It had to hit the right notes. Pull just the right strings. Leaning on Gemma’s intel, he connects the previous Four to those currently in play and, most importantly, what is at stake if they lose - the Republic and galactic security. Rutherford believed it enough to risk almost everything in the off chance, however misguided, that the Gellar would come out victorious. He was not the only one to lose everything in that gamble. So, Dane makes one thing very clear. If they are killed, allowing Winton to claim the Imperial throne, that would be it. Game over. There would be no one left to stop them and the prophecy will have been fulfilled.

Maumbile considers this before responding but does not mince words.

“Winton’s treachery - the machinations and meddling of others - these cannot be your sole purpose.”

“He is right,” Irulan says evenly. “That vendetta almost ended your father. But he got a second chance with Celeste. With you, Gemma, and even Dahlia. I do not want to see you destroy yourself for the same thing.”

Dane, backlit by the glow of the tanks, squares his shoulders.

“I am not doing this to take up my father’s fight and avenge him by taking down Winton the same way they took down our family. It is tempting, don’t get me wrong but that is not what convinced me. It also does not serve anyone other than myself. I have been skeptical of Gemma and wary of Dahlia for a long time, unsure of my place among their powers and sway. Now I know the key lies within my own genes. The prophecy is something our parents kept from us, praying it died with the others but deep down I think they both knew. It would never be over until we took back control of our lives and stopped it ourselves. If this has been repeating these cycles with our descendants think of how many people died in service to something they willingly had no part in. They were sacrificed for the prophecy. I am doing this so we do not doom another generation to this bullshit. Even if I have to die to make that happen.”

“An impassioned plea but your logic is not entirely clear to me. How would this stop what you have said is already in motion?”

As Irulan looks on in quiet horror, Dane outlines the plan and contingency. Gemma and Riley, with the help of the Jedi, would seek to discover and destroy the Voss-Ra and their influence over the prophecy outcome. With Maumbile’s help, Dane would provide access to the legacy gene in him to create replicas of the three of them in the event they failed.

“Please. You know what we all stand to lose. We cannot do this without you.”

“There are so many things to consider and much you still do not know. During my work with the GURI project, what became known to the worlds as PHAGE was not the only success with the legacy gene.”

“What do you mean?”

“The Federation had become something else entirely and talk turned to their own contingency. If they were unable to control Valerie Gellar, they would replace her, and Corellia would be controlled by an HRD that would lead the way for the Federation’s rise and continued conquest. The idea was abandoned, of course, after she was murdered so publicly but the replica was already created, something they called…an Infiltrator.”

Dane’s eyes widen with realization. That is a term he has heard before, many years ago, when they were taken by an enemy with the face of a friend. In their case, family. Riley’s family which is technically his family so…holy shit. He swallows, trying to suppress the wave of panic that rises against his resolve.

“Do you know what happened to the Infiltrator?"

“I do not. But she, like the replicas you are asking me to create would only be a shell. Any HRD, imbued with the legacy gene, would be a being capable of sentience yet devoid of anything that makes you, Gemma, or Riley who you are now. They would live but remember nothing.”

“For that, you would need the flash memory.”

He nods, “Correct. It is the last step. Without it, they would be blank slates capable of being programmed or corrupted the same way the Federation intended to use the Infiltrator.”

It appears that they did more with their intentions than the doctor realizes but what good does it do to dwell? They have a problem to solve and this is the path forward.

“Understood.”

“Dane,” Maumbile says lowly. “You do realize what you are asking? What you may or may not set in motion regardless of desire or intention?”

“I am. This has implications larger than all of us and so it is a risk we must take.”

There is a twinge of a smile at the edge of his cracked lips, “Your father would be proud of your innovative approach despite the danger. He saw the big picture at a great personal sacrifice. I will need the biological samples to get started and the imprints to finish.”

“The samples we have,” Dane says. “The imprints for Gemma and Riley will be sent soon along with protection for our clandestine project. You can build mine here.”

Irulan excuses herself, “I will retrieve the samples as they require my access alone.”

She disappears back into the lift and Dane takes a breath, thinking back over the past few years and the events that led them here. Maumbile is right. His father would be proud. He is less certain about what his mother would think but if there is any hope for them escaping the clutches of the prophecy then this is what they must do. He was not lying when he said he was ready to die for it. It is not the most desirable option, obviously, but he will be damned if they sit around and do nothing. His faith in the Jedi may be minimal but he knows Gemma and Riley will do all they can. It is up to him to prepare for the worst, whatever that may be.

“Her support for you is unwavering.”

“Irulan? Yeah, she truly has been our champion throughout everything that has happened.”

“Yes,” Doctor Maumbile says with an almost wistful tone. “I helped your father build her that way.”








-TBC

[Syren]

“Tell me how
It’s better if I make no sound
I will never escape these doubts
I wasn’t dead when they found me
Watch as they pull me down.”

-CHVCHES & Robert Smith

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder: Gellar Tower

The room blurs and tilts as he struggles to make sense of what the doctor just said.
 
“Whaaaat….the fuck? What do you mean built?”

There is no surprise or humor on his face, only the knowing look of someone with many secrets and talents that makes him as dangerous as he is useful.

“Is it not apparent now? The woman you know as Irulan Reeves is a replica, the first built in these tanks to prep for the possibility of having to do so in the event you and Gemma were lost.”

Dane moves slowly toward one of the tanks, running a hand along the chilled surface.

“I do not understand. How?”
 
“You know how. The genes that run through your veins grant life to things that were never meant to think or feel the way we do. Objects and artifacts alike become sentient and the Trade Federation was going to leverage that to grow their power and influence. Surely you can imagine what would happen if this got out into the open market – players clamoring to replace and control prominent figures across the galaxy or grant themselves immortality to continue their rule through science. Mercifully, there are limitations that would blunt such unethical aspirations.”

“Such as?”

“For one, the legacy gene cannot be synthesized. It must be taken and applied directly from a source. A blessing in disguise. Secondly, there are not many with the skills to manipulate these materials in practice. Even someone with raw genetic material would fail without the right hands guiding the process.”
 
Dane grimaces at the thought, envisioning the sheer chaos of it all. The power lies within him but he does not know how to use it. Only a select few, Maumbile among them, knows how to unlock these terrifying wonders.
 
“What happened to Irulan? The real Irulan.”
 
The doctor’s face falls and he shakes his head slowly.
 
“A tragedy, for sure. Irulan Reeves carried a very rare blood disorder. One that could not be cured by any known medicine. She was dying and your father did not want to lose her. Arrangements were made but it is important to note that she consented to this. She wished for her husband to be cared for and your father needed proof as well as insurance. Irulan was the key to both.”

“Ruthless to the last. So slick.”

The doctor continues without acknowledging the quip.
 
“His request was not purely selfish. Rutherford wished vengeance on Alexander Winton, yes, but his devotion to Irulan ran deep. Not romantic, if that is what you are thinking. He told me he would never blindly risk the second chance he had been given in your family.”

“Not blindly,” Dane says pointedly. “But perhaps out of necessity.”
 
“You said it yourself. He knew that one day the things that were written would come back for you again. He could grant her dying wish while gaining a means to keep watch over everything.”

He has to hand it to his father; Rutherford turned his dying protégé into the ultimate fail-safe, a way to ensure the survival of his empire even if he or one of his heirs did not. He told the doctor he confessed it all to the real Irulan before she died and this directive is part of what made her as effective as she has been. Rutherford became the mentor he always wanted to be but it was the cunning business acumen of her flash-memory combined with the singular drive to thrive and grow that kept them relevant and well-positioned throughout all of the personal turmoil. To keep the family legacy fortified and provide exactly the resources they would need if it ever came to it.

And it has come to it.
 
Irulan was also the test to see if the legacy gene really did what Winton boasted it could. He had sold his soul for it, after all. PHAGE was merely remote yet dangerous abstract to Rutherford and, for all he knew, was just another of Winton’s elaborate lies. 

The doctor meets his gaze.
 
“Irulan was the template of what he was prepared to do for his children.”

Dane’s expression hardens, “Do what? Rebuild us and send us after them again and again until we had extracted our pound of flesh? I thought you said his motives were more altruistic than that.”

“He wanted to save you. All of you. Like he could not save the others. Prophecies are, by design, opaque and I am a man of science not one of faith. I deal in the here and now. If what he feared, what I saw nearly destroy the galaxy, has returned then we do what we must. You must feel the same if you are willing to die for it.”

Across the lab, the lift doors hiss open and Irulan steps out carrying a small temperature-controlled case.
 
Of course. It had to be her.
 
The CSA is a vicious corporatocracy and anyone else in Irulan’s position would have seized control of this company the moment they had the opportunity. That’s how they roll here. Every blind spot becomes a liability and a wrong step could land you on the receiving end of the Direx Board’s wrath. In exchange for ensuring the man she loved did not suffer without her, she secured the means to protect them. The programmed primary directives and her flash-memory aligned and executed on their agreement flawlessly. 
 
She catches his expression while he works this out in his head.
 
“I see you told him.”

Doctor Maumbile nods, “It was time.”

“I am sorry.”

“Do not be. I chose this.”

“No, not that you did it. I am grateful for that. I am sorry that you had to.”

“Some things cannot be helped,” Irulan says. “Life is funny that way. Garron was tasked with protecting you physically while I oversaw other areas of security. I cannot be broken the way he is now but I am not invulnerable. We must be careful while constructing the contingency. If these Voss-Ra creatures have their claws in the direction of the narrative then you are not out of the woods yet." 
 
While he struggles to process everything, he wonders when the last time he saw the real Irulan was. Did he act like a spoiled jerk, not knowing the sacrifice she was about to make for them? Probably. His sister's words, heavy with the burden of wishing she didn’t know what she does, return to him. Everyone has an approximate counterpart in each cycle, at least that is a central tenant of Gemma’s insane yet unmistakably evident loop theory. The one who lives but does not have life. If the Infiltrator served that role in the last, does Irulan represent this attribute now? Are her directives as clear as they seem? Knowing his father, not bloody likely. 
 
“Guess that means we’re kind of related.”

His attempt at some levity is appreciated.

“Only in the most basic biological sense,” she says, handing the case to Maumbile. “We will need to map your memories.”
 
“With, like, what?”

She glances toward the far side of the lab where a simple yet ominous-looking contraption awaits. It is a black and grey chair attached to a circular cone with various electrodes nestled within. He does not slow his approach and hops on without hesitation. Fuck it. It is time to get this freak show on the road. Dane eases into the chair, stiff from so long without any pressure on it, and sighs.
 
“Will it hurt?”

She taps at a flat control panel and the machine snaps to life with a thick hum.
 
“Yes.”










-TBC

[Syren]

“You know, you know what I mean
So let it be, let me see what’s in between
You can breathe, break the silence of the scene
Wake up from sleep, let me taste what’s in between.”

-Maxim Lany

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

High atop the Gellar Tower, shades drawn, Dane groans and drapes a cold compress over his eyes.
 
Well, Irulan was not wrong. The memory mapping procedure hurt like a bitch but it was done. Dr. Maumbile now has Dane’s flash memory to upload into his new body whenever it is ready, should Gemma and Riley fail in this mission to stop the Voss-Ra. He is not unaware of the cutoff point, a lapse in those memories between when it was mapped and if/when the contingency is triggered. Dane would keep a log of events for reference so that the new version of him could get up to speed quickly. The whole thing is so unsettling that it makes him queasy even considering going through with it all. He settles into the couch, the powerful painkillers Irulan gave him only just beginning to wear the edges off the splitting headache.

For the greater good or whatever.
 
The revelation of Irulan’s sacrifice lingers with him. That was a doozy. Rutherford and his acolytes never cease to amaze and horrify, adding further nuance to an already complex man. It was probably the most selfless selfish thing he could imagine – using the Gellar legacy gene to grant her immortality in exchange for ensuring that legacy continues. He wants to tell Gemma but realizes that reaching out may prove problematic for their security. His list of confidantes has been slowly dwindling and now, after pushing Alka away, Dane realizes he is more alone than ever.
 
It is that loneliness, fueled by the pleasant haze of the painkillers, that drives him back downstairs. He pauses outside the door of the private medical suite where Garron Prescott has been committed for observation and testing. From what their carefully selected doctors have told him, Garron’s therapy has hit roadblock after roadblock. They are not making any headway into his distress and the deeper they probe, the more pain they seem to inflict. When the attending exits the room, he fills him on the latest – which is not good news. Whoever did this to Garron intentionally placed these mental blocks so that they could not be undone without first killing the subject. Only someone extremely skilled in brainwashing and torture could have pulled something like this off and there are few with the true means and talent to do so. This screams Imperial to him but they are dealing with these insane Voss-Ra cultists and possibility the Sith, as Gemma delightfully pointed out. There is nothing to say these groups are working together toward exactly the same things. 

The overlap between ally and enemy can be a rather nebulous and minuscule area.
 
Dane bids the doctor a good day and leans against the door. He would not go in. The last time he tried to visit, Garron snapped and tried to escape his restraints, popping several of the massive stitches along his wrists. He cannot help himself. He is only following the directives of the ones who infiltrated his mind, destroying the man he called friend and protector. If Garron’s objective is to kill Dane, effectively taking him off the board of the prophecy game, he wonders what would happen if he allowed him to believe he succeeded?

A dark theory, perhaps, but one possibly worth exploring if it meant getting Garron back since he is one of the few people Dane has left.

*

Mondder: Dream Emporium
 
Closing night of The Shaded Solstice.
 
It had been a magnificent run, both professionally and critically, sealing Alka Dawning as the Corporate Sector’s premier dancer. A principal in all senses of the word. She is a vision to behold and she gives it everything she has to make this last performance truly memorable. Alka is working through quite a bit of rage which she expertly channels into her craft. She knows Dane would not dare show up here, not after what he pulled, and she does not want him to. She did this entirely on her own. The sense of accomplishment hits home as the curtain falls, bringing down the house with a roar of applause and cheers.
 
Weaving through the wings, her fellow dancers shower her with praise and the director moved to tears with the outcome. They all have reasons to celebrate. Bringing this level of entertainment to performance art is something that the Corporate Sector has been sorely lacking. Everyone wants an opportunity to escape, and in this high-pressure, high-risk world they live in, Alka is grateful she is part of making that happen. Dancing is a form of escape for her as well, a way to detach herself from the shackles of everyday life and transcend to her most authentic self. The feeling is not something she can describe to anyone who has not experienced it themselves and she allows that mysterious glow to follow her back to her dressing room. It is empty, exactly as she had left it, except for one detail.
 
A single rose, dyed black, set carefully in the center of her vanity.
 
She approaches it cautiously, pinching the delicate stem to lift it up in front of her. Glancing past the rose, she can see her reflection beneath the brilliance of the vanity lighting, stage makeup giving her a much more dramatic look. In the world of entertainment, this means only one thing.
 
A warning.










-TBC

[Syren]

“I wanna stay, wanna say, I’m so sorry for everything
For my head’s up in the clouds, and not coming down
I hear you say: I’m not happy but it’s okay
It’s out of my reach now, it’s just too far away.”

-Shout Out Louds
 
Corporate Sector

Etti IV

Surface: Mondder: Gellar Tower

Dane furiously fiddles with a com-link while shaking his head at the latest Holo feeds out of the Republic. Uh oh. Did he just prove Gemma right in sending an unwitting peripheral player into the rancor’s den?
 
“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” he mutters. 
 
Ever since the RSB released the list of individuals in the President’s office at the time of the explosion, he has not been able to reach Kier Kincaid. They were scheduled to return soon so he figured he would debrief on any relevant details when they got back. Now, ka-boom! Every call goes unanswered yet he continues trying. Dane is still unpacking the contingency and reality of their completely bonkers situation. Were things always destined to be so dire? Did Valerie and co spend their days in a heightened state of existential dread? If so, they did make it work for them…until it, like, didn’t. He likes to think they have a leg up on things this time around, not that it provides much solace at the moment. Kier, uh, wasn’t great, to be honest, but he probably should not have gone out like that. Well, on the heels of what was also very likely the best sex of his life. So, yeah, silver linings? He struggles to see upsides outside his bottom line which is exactly how Rutherford intended it.
 
Conscience check in real-time.

Then there is another alert, security summoning him downstairs. All the way down. Into the labs. He moves with purpose but flashes that grin in passing to keep it all in perspective. Unfortunately, that all turns to shit the moment he winds up back in front of the medical suite that used to contain one incredibly unstable Garron Prescott. One guard dead, a medical droid dismantled, and a phrase that causes considerably more panic than it should.
 
“I’m sorry, he what?”

“Escaped.”

“From a secure room, in a secure building? Not computing, man.”
 
“He learned the routines, found the perfect opportunity. Poor son of a bitch never saw it coming. We tried to track him but he knew exactly where we would be looking. Garron Presscott is…gone.”

Wonderful. Psycho ex-whatever on the loose. He knows this building outside and in. Of course, he got away. He probably knows by now there is nothing they could do for him. Dane could not put him out of his misery and the medical staff dared not even insinuate it.
 
“If he can get out, he can get back in. I am going to need you to do something about that.”

The security lead nods as an aide joins them.
 
“Urgent call from the Kincaid’s rep. Kier’s family wants to know where he is.”

Without a word, Dane nods stiffly and follows her back toward the lifts.

*

D’ian

Surface: Dawning Estate

Alka enjoys being home. 

Sometimes.
 
Even stymied at his attempt to uncover their lies, her father is more tolerable when she is around. D’Ken never quite bought into their little misadventures, even though it cost the children's lives of those closest to him on the Direx Board. One of those could have easily been her. Hell, maybe it should have been. She will never be able to unsee Ples getting eviscerated by that saber or unhear Trichelle’s terrified screams as their shuttle went down into the ocean. The production helped distract her from that but now that she is home, alone with her thoughts, the details of their near-death experience find their way back to center stage.
 
A place that is difficult to ignore.
 
She muddles through and finds some peace in the safety of this space. A childhood fortress, something comforting in its intentional excess. Alka wanders the corridors aimlessly but comes across a finely polished red and black GG-service droid her father dubbed Gyger holding a package.

“Mistress Alka, so glad I found you!” it chirps. “This arrived for your father.”

She smiles and retrieves it, “I’ll take it to him.”

“Thank you – so much to do!”

It is not terribly large but whatever is in it is an awkward shape and unwrapped from the sounds of it. Sighing, Alka heads toward her father’s study. A place he spends the majority of his time scheming up strategies that will keep those funds-a-flowing. She is grateful he enjoys it so much but wishes he would carve out a bit more time for himself. Growing heavier, she raps on the door as she rounds the corner.

"Delivery for you."

D’Ken is sorting through files on his desk and waves her over, “Open it, please. I am expecting a few pieces for the suite in Mondder. We need to liven that place up.”

She slides it on the desk, noting the subtle dampness on her palm, and pulls it open. The smell hits first before her eyes can adjust and then it registers. Gagging, she reels backward before screaming bloody murder. Like, literally. D’Ken rounds his desk in an instant, peering down into the cause of the commotion. The reaction, he decides, is not unwarranted.
 
On his desk in a box, staring back up at him, is the severed head of Cybot Galactica's CFO, Finnius Dyre.







 


-TBC

[Syren]

“For curious dreams that
Are haunted, disquieting, kind, or uneasy
I’ll wait till you break
And I got patience for years
Cos when your head is undone
I’ll get you right where you walk.”

-Kiltro

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

Watching things unravel in real-time is really something.
 
Nothing business-related, thankfully, as that is the one area where things are solid. His personal life, on the other hand, not so much. Dane Gellar blows out a long, slow stream of air while staring over the multidimensional cityscape beyond the office windows. The Kincaid’s are pissed, obviously but neither of Kier’s parents is on the Direx Board. Not as much a legacy house as Aguilar, Corinthos, or Gellar. A small but significant mercy. They could be satiated through compensation without the capital or clout to retaliate against Gellar Industries. Irulan shielded them admirably, positioning them in ways that any harm could mean harm to others. Not that it would stop anyone from trying if given even a sliver of a chance. That is how things work here. 

Always have. Always will.
 
The top story of the moment is the totally severed head that arrived at the Dawning’s.
 
Finnius Dyre was on the Direx Board so people are inevitably freaking out. He misses Preston and Roman in these moments. Finnius, unlike Balthazar Nash, was rather supportive of his son’s romantic pursuit of his highly respectable yet still highly suspicious Chiss classmate. How badly it all ended. Now the elder Dyre is dead too. The brutality and suspicion give this a seedier edge without the undertones of star-crossed lovers that made Preston and Roman’s story so compelling on the Holo. Finnius Dyre’s murder points to something more straightforward; a grudge, bad blood, or an off-the-books deal gone wrong. There is not a shortage of theories which is why Dane winds up down at the Espos HQ at the center of the city.
 
Shock quickly gave way to suspicion and D’Ken Dawning was whisked away by the boys-in-brown, threatened with being sent to Stars’ End if they found out he had anything to do with it. Alka leans precariously against the wall, biting a thumbnail and looking exceptionally hot. He makes his approach slowly and when she sees him, she stiffens.

“What are you doing here?”

“Offering support?”

“Is that so? How…kind of you. But you do not have to worry about me anymore, remember?”

“Hey, come on. That’s not fair. I was worried.”

“Oh, fuck you! And fuck fair! You do not get to jerk me around like that, Dane. Push me away one minute then show up here to be my shoulder to cry on the next. No. You do not get to have it both ways. They think my father did this!”

Dane leans on the wall beside her, undeterred.
 
“It hasn’t at least crossed your mind?”

While she does not move away, she keeps a careful distance and lowers her voice into an almost menacing whisper.
 
“What do you think he did, Dane? Kill Dyre, hack off his head, and then send it to…himself? Only to report it immediately afterward? That is ridiculous, even for the damn Espos and their insatiable itch to stick it to everyone. My father pisses me off sometimes but this is not his style. We both know that.”
 
She does have a very good point. D’Ken Dawning is one of the most uptight people he has ever known. His father could not stand the guy and he has not exactly made their lives easy either with all of his meddlings and snooping. He is much too controlling to throw in wild variables like shipping hassles or the possibility of traumatizing his own family without something to gain from it.
 
“Not the point,” Dane quips evenly. “He had both motive and opportunity.”

“Everyone has motive and opportunity here, dummy. That is kind of the point. They are going to have to conjure up something better than a business rivalry if they hope to pin this on him.”

“And if they do?”

Alka glowers out into the bustling station, “Then I burn this whole place down to cinders and dust.”

He has never been more turned on than he is at this very moment but he lets it lie, momentarily, before dropping his own bit of news.
 
“Garron escaped.”

She doesn’t even blink, “Neat. Guess you better watch your back then.”

“Oof. Not even a shred of concern?”

“Why? I am not his primary target. And if he doesn’t get you, maybe I’ll ask whoever carved up Dyre to put your head in a box too. Then you might finally shut the hell up.”

It stings more than he wants it to. Somewhere she has to know that separating meant protecting her from their destiny of blood splatter and bullshit. It appears a bit of time has not changed her perspective and he is a fool for thinking it would. With Garron on the loose and a maniac cutting off the heads of elite society folk triggers something in him.
 
“Alka, listen. I know what I said. Before. It’s just-”

“If you are looking for someone to absolve you of guilt about marching a clueless Kier straight to his gruesome death, as predicted, you came to the wrong gal. I am fresh out of fucks right now, Dane. You are going to have to deal with your shit on your own this time.”

Dane winces but leans in closer, “I never said I stopped caring about you.”
 
“Yeah?” she chuffs, pushing off the wall and weaving between the frenetic movement of umber uniforms. “Could have fooled me.”








-TBC

[Syren]

“When the storm decays and the sky, it rains
Let it flood, let it flood, let it wash away
And as we stumble through your last crusade
Will you welcome your extinction in the morning rays?"


-My Chemical Romance

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

The days are long and confusing, mundane meetings and power lunches smeared across the amalgamated persona he has created for the sake of appearances. Dane Gellar knows he must keep up the brave face even with Garron’s unknown whereabouts looming over everything like a specter. The prophecy and its trappings are not the only forces conspiring against him. The corporations are restless given the recent turmoil and they can smell even trace amounts of blood in the water. Altercation and acquisition reign supreme so he and Irulan form a united front to solidify their position.
 
Unfortunately, the same cannot be said for D’Ken Dawning. There are rumors of a confrontation between him and Dyre with the Espos hinting at digital traces in their possession that leave just enough doubt to question whether or not their professional relationship was as solid as everyone once believed. Everyone here has a motive but Dawning also had an opportunity just like he told Alka. It is not looking good and everyone knows what that means.
 
Irulan approaches him almost immediately, calculating as always.
 
“Dawning is vulnerable. We have to move on it.”

Dane leans back in his chair, “That is not going to endear him to me.”

“He already hates you,” Irulan says dryly. “Also, you are no longer dating his daughter. This is not personal.”
 
“Not to you but I get it. Go for it then. Rattle some corporate cages, snap up some shares, vie for controlling interest, whatever. Do your thing.”
 
Her smile is less than comforting.
 
“Excellent. With weapons and pharmaceuticals covered, we are still missing out on a considerable market with consumer goods. Dawning has an in there that we can leverage. Open up new revenue streams for us.”

“Those are my favorite kinds of streams. Not that it will buy me what I want.”

She approaches his desk slowly, “You cannot purchase your way out of who you are. Too easy.”

“One to talk. You have been upgraded. I still have to die to make this work.”

“I know.”

“Oh, right.”

“Death is merely one state becoming another. A rather transformative experience and freeing in a way. For you, like me, it will only be temporary.”

“I will be sure to let you know how it goes.”

So, she does her thing with his backing which the media gleefully articulates. The shakeup is good and bad for business with people placing their bets and taking sides, but she wastes no time investing in what could be a nice addition to the Gellar portfolio. Diversification is the spice of life. Not as good as actual spice but close. It does not take long for that news to hit the proverbial fan. More woes for a quickly drowning Dawning. That shithead deserves to squirm a little after all the grief he gives them. They have only been blatantly deceiving him and everyone else since they returned to the sector. The reality is that it could have been much worse but it did not come to that, thankfully.
 
Speaking of…Alka turns up to the Gellar penthouse livid.
 
Did he sort of authorize the whole thing on the off chance she would show up on his doorstep in a questionable mental state? Yeah, kinda. Worth it. He pushed her away to keep her safe but she is difficult to resist and his self-control wavers at best these days. It is just nice to talk to someone who is not a replica or trying to create more replicas even if that is part of the grand contingency Gemma cooked up. His loneliness may literally be driving him mad and her presence is a desperately needed antidote.
 
She is not – per usual lately – in a forgiving mood.
 
“You just had to be the first one to kick him while he is down. So typical.”

“Hey! A little perspective, maybe? I can shield your father’s interests from far more unscrupulous characters coming for him. We both know no one is going to let this slide, not when market share is at stake.”
 
She pushes right on past him with a huff, “I do not believe that for a second but I suppose I can acknowledge the gesture, hollow as it may be.”

He touches her arm, turning her slowly around to face him.
 
“There is something else. You were right. I should not have sent Kier to Chandaar.”

The tight pull of her full lips, although menacing, is unbelievably sexy.
 
“A little late for regret, no? Kier is dead. Blown to bits by that allegedly mind-controlled vixen, if you believe the press coming out of the Republic. You really can be so lousy sometimes, Dane. I hope it was worth it.”

“I can still feel bad about it!”

She pulls away, “And you thought I would, what, comfort you?”

“I would not object. To, you know, some comfort.”

“Un-fucking-believable!” she screams, storming back toward the door. “I do not know what I even came here hoping for. Dyre is dead, my father is in real trouble, I am pretty sure I have a stalker, and all you can do is swoop shares out from under him and try to seduce me?”

Dane crosses his arms, “I hate how you say that like it is a bad plan. I am trying here, Alka!”
 
“Trying my nerves. Tell me the truth, why are you being like this? What is really going on with you? The rich reclusive playboy act is tired and you wear it with such disgust that I know you cannot possibly enjoy it. We were a team! We lied to the faces of every Direx board member together after we watched two of their kids, our friends, die in real-time. That is some straight-up treasonous shit. So, tell me what your problem is and why you are shutting me out.”
 
He almost does but an alert momentarily shatters their tense showdown, an incoming request for permission to land in the adjacent Gellar pad. Alka miraculously does not leave and instead leans defiantly against the front doorframe as he taps the nearest wall comm.
 
“Who dare disturbs my incessant brooding?”

“Reinforcements,” Demaris laughs softly. “I hope we are not intruding.”

“On the contrary, you are just in time.”

He clears them to land and sighs deeply with relief.
 
Alka deadpans, “The calvary?”
 
“Gemma thought it best to send a little assistance our way. It is going to get bumpy in the home stretch.”

“Of what?”

“What else?” he shouts, waving his arms around. “The prophecy! I am fated in this but you do not have to be. That is why…that is why…”

Alka pushes a strand of dark hair behind her ear, “Uh huh, sure. I have heard this sob story before.”
 
“But were you listening? Anyone anywhere near this winds up dead. It cuts through emotional attachment like a blade to skin and the first of the last Four to go was Valerie. Time is a factor here. Forgive me for trying to spare at least one person a tragic end even if my own is inevitable.”

She does not say anything for a long time. From anyone else, that line would sound like a bunch of megalomaniacal bullshit. As much as she wanted both of them out of it, Alka has seen too much to delude herself into such a fantasy. She could leave now and never see him again but he is just as much a pull to her as she is to him. He is infuriating but complex and she did not think it possible to both love and hate someone so much. Or so intensely. She draws out the pause long enough to choose her words tactfully.
 
“Like most things with you, it is not the strategy but the execution. As noble as you can sometimes be, you do not have to be such a dick about it.”
 
“Yeah, well. Here we are,” he mutters.

She is still angry but the admission, forced and overdue, softens something. The weight of the worlds he carries is reflected in those dark, soulful eyes and so she drifts toward him while maintaining a careful distance.
 
“I can handle my own and if I have to go this alone so be it. I am not sure you can. Or should, for that matter. I am grateful Gemma sent help but do not make me an enemy just so you can feel better about the insane measures you think you have to go to. You may still have options if you surround yourself with the right people.”
 
“What are you saying?”

A shadow falls across the room as a small shuttle curves down onto the landing pad.
 
Her pinched smirk almost becomes a smile, “That we should go greet our protectors since they have come all this way.”

Outside, the evening breeze and waning light are the perfect compliments to a joining of forces. Demaris Atrii strides down the ramp, purple hair and Jedi robes flowing behind her. She introduces Taarek Cirque and Shendo then, almost reluctantly, Avinarius the Manadalorian hangs back from the group.
 
“Quite the motley crew you have.”

Demaris pulls Dane into an embrace, “All have sworn to protect you, whatever may come.”

It calms him to hear that even if he is not entirely certain they can. Not from this. But they have brought more than their skills and oaths. They brought hope, as he feared it grew too dim to light the way. He introduces Alka to those who do not know her and ushers everyone inside. It had been a long journey and now it is time to rest – and celebrate.
 
After everyone settles into the various guest rooms, something the penthouse is not short on, Dane pops an ale and joins them in the sprawling, oblong living room.
 
“The last time we saw you, you were making off with Gemma and Riley. I was meaning to ask how you pulled that off anyway, infiltrating Imperial space for an extraction. Pretty slick.”

“Yes,” Demaris says softly. “It was. I am so sorry about Ples and Trichelle. They were good friends and it is shame they were lost in such a way.”
 
“You were not around for the aftermath,” Alka snaps icily, taking the bottle from Dane. “The Empire could have crucified us but instead sent us packing. Lucky break.”

Taarek knows better than to defend her, and Shendo watches the challenge with a detached curiosity. Demaris trains her gaze on Alka.
 
“You are entitled to feel that way. We did not have much of a window and they are clients of Gellar Industries and Dawning Enterprises. There is a vested interest in your safety given the precarious situation Ples and Trichelle’s deaths put them in. The chances of you escaping Imperial space were a lot greater than Gemma’s so that is the call we made.”

“You can take the girl out of the Corporate Sector,” Dane laughs, popping open another bottle and handing it to Taarek. “You better have a hell of a story.”

“We do, actually, but first, there is something you should know.”

Finally, the Mandalorian steps forward, slowly pulling off his helmet to reveal their very own ghost. Neither is prepared for what lies beneath.

“Hello, friends.”

The shock and surprise are palpable, creating simultaneous gasps as they whisper his name in disbelief.
 
“Roman.” “Roman.”










-TBC

[Syren]

“You know I’ve been fucked up, crazy
It’s been a little heavy lately
But you’re the only one who could save me
I know that isn’t fair, I know that isn’t fair.”

-Joesef

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

It defies belief.
 
Dane touches the side of his face to feel if he is real. Blue, tangible, familiar. A piece of his past he never thought he would see again. Roman stares at his friends - people he had come to love, people he had left behind – now standing before him stunned into silence and tears. Alka desperately clutches at his arm to steady herself as Dane’s eyes glaze over. Eventually, they merge into a messy embrace. This is not normally acceptable behavior among the Chiss but he knows they need it. A part of him does at well. Something to anchor him to this plane of existence.
 
Demaris excuses herself and the others as they retire to their rooms and allow them the space to get reacquainted. It had been a long journey and best to make the most of this happy moment. Besides, she had time to process Roman’s resurrection and was not nearly as close as they all were. She bids them good night and disappears down the corridor.

The trio retreat to Dane’s room with fresh drinks and some spliff. Like old times, piled into the center of his massive bed, getting high and talking shit. Old times, good times, and everything that came after. The marvelous blur of each plot twist sending them deeper into a fantastical, fabricated void. At least no one can ever say things were boring. They could use a bit of boring these days. It is a total mindfuck from here on out. Real pretty people in very real danger. Alka to his left, Roman to his right, and his dark little heart, for the first time in a long time, feels whole.
 
Tipsy, joint hanging from his lips, he leans toward Roman and says, “Literally what the fuck happened?”

The last time they saw each other was right before Preston exploded in his driveway on D’ian and he went storming off to confront his parents in a justifiable murderous rage. Predictably, Roman takes the blunt approach to bridge the gap: the initial confrontation and subsequent suicide attempt, the fall and awakening several stories below, stealing the armor, inventing the Avinarius persona, falling in with the spice runners to get out of the Sector, winding up on Kijimi gearing up to steal from the smugglers, the young Force-sensitive, Lysette, finding him in the tavern and leading him back to Gemma and Riley, their jaunt into the Unknown Regions, his quest for revenge, the Jedi stopping him, and their secretive reemergence into the galactic fray on Corellia.
 
“Destruction and drama pretty much sum it up. You?”

“Same,” Dane sighs wearily. “Only our adventure involved Imperial blackmail and lying to everyone to evade accountability for them and ourselves. Oh, and my protector pal Garron has been brainwashed into trying to murder me but somehow escaped and is now probably running loose around the Sector waiting to jump out and slit my throat.  Also, business has never been better but Alka may or may not have a stalker and her father may or may not be responsible for the death of Preston’s dad. Not sure if you heard that but it is so fucked. Dyre deserved better. Speaking of fathers, I kind of had to besmirch your father’s name and steal his company. Collateral damage of all the lying.”

“He deserves that and worse. I intended to kill him and my mother for what they did to Preston.”

“I am glad it did not come to that,” Alka says, plucking the joint from Dane’s fingers to take a hit. “There are less violent ways to solve problems.”
 
“Perhaps but this will at least ensure his exile is permanent. Even though Gemma told me it was the Inquisitor that attacked you, the whole of the CSA believing him guilty removes any hope he may have to regain what he lost. I may have let go of the need to be the one to punish him but I still believe that vengeance will be exacted through other means.”

“Cheers to that.”

The boys touch the necks of their bottles together while Alka rolls her eyes up.
 
Roman slides off the bed, “Well, I will leave you both to it. We can continue this conversation in the morning. There are still a few details to cover but best left to when we have clearer heads.”

“Hold up. I am not staying here!”

“I thought-”

Alka hops off and grabs her purse, “So did I but Dane here has grander plans of pushing everyone away so he can live out the dark future of the prophecy or whatever.”

“You say that without any context!” he protests. “Ro, surely Gemma gave you the rundown.”

“Of how you all must die for this to finally end? Yes, she did make that quite clear.”

Alka scoffs, handing the joint to Roman, “And you agree with her?!”

“I cannot say for certain nor can I truly attribute my survival to fate or fable but it proved the point she was trying to make. This is not the first time these things have happened. Not exactly the same but circumstantially similar enough to draw parallels to our current situation. Gemma knows there is outside influence using individuals with access to push things forward. I am sorry to hear Garron is unfortunately one of them.”

“Janessa too.”

“It only cost Kier to prove it,” Alka counters.

“Harsh,” he mutters, taking the joint from Roman. “But fair. I did not think it would go that far.”
 
“Really? After everything that has happened? This ancient sect you and Gemma go on about will clearly stop at nothing to get what they want. Over four thousand people died in the Bolerathon Tower! Blowing up a small CSA delegation does not seem like too much of a deterrent. You can try to push us away but we are already marked. We are a part of this whether you want us to be or not so let us help you.”
 
Roman leans against the doorframe, “She is not wrong, D. We all came here to protect you while Gemma, Riley, and the Jedi figure out how to stop them.”

Dane pulls on the joint and then stubs it out into a circular dish on the nightstand.
 
“As grateful as I am, these are powerful forces so we must plan accordingly. The Voss-Ra, the Sith, or even the Inquisitor are not our only problems. We have Dahlia to deal with too.”

“How the hell did she even survive? You saw it, Bolerathon was nothing but ash and rubble.”

He shrugs, “Wish I knew but it is hardly the point. She told Gemma and me that Melanie killed Karen so there is plenty of motive. Add on the prophecy and its winner-takes-all framework that may somehow bring about the return of the Sith and we have a fairly compelling reason why we need to be removed from the equation. It is kill or be killed and so long as Dahlia believes that none of us are safe.”

“Then it is fortunate we are here,” Roman says, tapping the door open. “It really is so good to see you both. I apologize if my presumed death brought you pain. All I can say is that I lost myself over losing Preston. It is not an excuse, I know, but it is the truth. The Jedi may have their faults but they pulled me back from the brink. Despite Gemma’s very legitimate qualms with them, I do not think we should be so quick to dismiss their guidance and protection. I will see you in the morning.”

He wanders down the hall and the door hisses closed.
 
“Well, that was not how I expected this day to end.”

Smirking, Dane pats the other side of the bed, “Who says it's over?”

“You really can be such a scoundrel. Think about what I said. What Roman said. There are other ways out of this even though it may not look that way right now.”
 
“Don’t go, it’s not safe.”
 
“For people like us, is it ever? We have been living under the threat of our parent’s corporate enemies our whole lives. We have been trophies and tokens leveraged according to what they needed to accomplish. This is not new.”

“It is not the same thing and you know it.”

“Never said it was.”

He frowns, “What about your stalker?”

“I have my own security, thank you very much.”

“Where were they when Dyre’s head was delivered to your doorstep?”

“Not funny. I will see you later.”

“So, this is goodbye and not go to hell?”

“This is…me being the ally you need right now. Things with my father aside, you need people around who can help you in this fight. Totally up to you to accept that or not but it is better than trying to go this alone.”

She heads for the door and he rises up onto his knees. 

“More people will die before this is over. You know that, right? I do not want it to be you.”

Alka throws one last glance over her shoulder.

“Never was there a tale of more woe than the prophecy and you damned Four.”

*

In the morning, Dane nurses a mild hangover with a glass of water until the powerful ChemiX painkillers begin to dissolve in his system. Perks of owning and operating in pharmaceuticals. Roman joins him in the kitchen while the others conduct a mindfulness practice or some shit. He sets a small, temperature-controlled case on the smooth, marbled island beside a datacard.
 
“What do we have here?”

“Tools,” Roman says evenly. “You will need them in your quest as will others to defend themselves against those powerful forces.”

The case contains fresh biological samples of Gemma and Riley, housed within neatly packed vials. A good start to their contingency plans.
 
“They were unfortunately unable to procure their flash memories. We encountered resistance from the Corellian Senator with considerable sway at CorSec.”

“The fugitive one?”

“Soldys, yes. The Jedi are not the only thing they are currently harboring. His history with HRD’s is rooted in their sector’s saga so he was understandably reluctant to allow Gemma to unleash that kind of variable back into the galaxy.”
 
Dane laughs. If only the Senator really knew. They already walk among us and he would heed Valerie’s warning that what runs through their veins is the key to finding their way through this. She knew it all along, not that she would just come out and say it. Cryptic bitch. The flash memory will be a problem to solve but unnecessary at this juncture to begin the work. His eyes wander to the data card.
 
“If that is not their memories, what is it?”

“Specs. For a superlaser.”

“Ah, right. The heavy hitter Gemma mentioned. Cool.”

“Stolen right from under my father’s nose. It was never put into production at Palace Arms due to its official classification as a planet-killing level weapon. Corellia has the prototype we also stole so they have at least some means of defense when the Republic inevitably turns on them. We want you to use this to build more now that you have the means and facilities to do so.”

Dane leans across the island, “You know that will be tricky to keep under wraps. Allocating resources for production will raise all sorts of questions.”

“Keep it under R&D and a small team with phrik-clad NDA’s. They will only need a few strategically placed within their fleets to repel the Republic.”
 
“Clever. I suppose you also realize that once this is out, we will not be able to un-ring that bell. If the Republic realizes where it came from, it could harm Sector relations. Like, irreparably. Our entire economy could collapse.”

Roman nods, “Very true but is the threat of a potentially rising Sith and-or the tyrannical Republic worth that risk?”

A very good question. They could always destroy the specs and decommission the weapons once they accomplish their goal but the theoretical profits are incalculable. So many credits to be made. Amass a fortune while the rest of the Corporate Sector burns down around him?  System-wide reputational damage would make rivals more attractive for acquisition – a Gellar monopoly. It does not sound completely unpleasant in his mind. Blast their adversaries into oblivion only to bite it and have their replicas rise to combat whatever comes once the prophecy is truly fulfilled. Stop the cycles, end it all, and give everyone that old razzle-dazzle. 

What a mess.

“Damn, you know I am happy to see you but did you have to come laying down the moral quandary?”

Roman is unphased by his attempt at levity, “Kill or be killed, Dane. This provides a recourse so best to build up those defenses and never need them rather than be caught without them.”

“Always the starkest of choices with you.”

“Always.”

*

Later, downstairs, in full corporate mode, Dane brings the case to Irulan’s office. She appears contemplative and he wonders how much of that nuance was programmed as opposed to residuals of her flash memory. The Irulan that was. She turns, glancing down at the case on her desk only to slowly raise her eyes to meet Dane’s.
 
“Present for doctor Maumbile, courtesy of our Gemma-sent calvary.”

“Sounds promising,” she says, pointing to one of two highbacked scalloped chairs. “Have a seat.”

He does as instructed, “You seem tense. What happened? Did you completely annihilate Dawning because there may be hope for me and Alka yet.”

“Not exactly but he does provide a through line to the topic at hand. The Direx Board is down two, possibly three voting members. Recent events have shaken up the balance of power, as you are well aware. Delicate alliances and coalitions now face…an uncertain future. A future we may able to reshape in our favor.”

“Fun,” Dane proclaims with only a trace of sarcasm. “But, like, how?”

“You and Alka Dawning were rather impressive handling the board during your testimony. It did not go unnoticed, nor have your considerable accomplishments and public profiles. You both have strong ties to the community and belong to prominent sponsor corporations which is why you were nominated. Even the Imperial advisor, Pallus, spoke in your favor.”

“I'll bet but Alka isn’t-”

“She may not be involved with Dawning Enterprises but she is the principal of a company owned by Harkan Entertainment. You know that name because their second son went missing with Muriel Monroe years ago.”

A chill coils its way down his spine, “Oh.”

“Yes, oh, indeed. The principal is an executive-level position as is yours at Gellar Industries and, despite the circumstances surrounding what happened on Hesperidum, ExO Aguilar was swayed. It went up for a vote.”

“Wait, what does that even mean?”
 
The delivery is deadpan but direct, “Congratulations, Dane Gellar. You and miss Dawning are the new Direx’s.”








-TBC