CC: Corporate Greed

[Syren]

“Lovely sewer, tragedy free
You cannot start a war
Just for the feeling.”

-Yves Tumor

Corporate Sector

D’ian

Surface: Dawning Estate

A light rain falls across the rolling moors of Concordia Township. It becomes steadier as the afternoon progresses and lends to the drama, something Alka Dawning was hoping to escape if only for a few hours. D’Ken is being formally indicted in the murder of Finnius Dyre thanks to communications the Espos magically obtained indicating threats leveled by the former. She does not believe that and has their lawyers all over it yet it feels like her life is being pulled apart anyway. Definitely not what she dreamed of as a little girl as she pirouetted effortlessly across her bedroom. A nice session in the studio would calm her nerves but she is instead derailed by an incoming call from Dane on Etti IV. Curious, she takes it but is not prepared for the leading story.

“Me? A Direx? You have got to be kidding.”

Dane’s ghostly image hovers above the holo pad, “Is this my kidding face?"

“No,” she admits with a sigh. “How is this a good thing? We were nominated and voted in because of a lie.”

“A brilliant lie, if I do say so myself.”

“Still a lie. I am surprised they entertained the idea at all given what happened to Ples and Trichelle. Our presence would only remind them of what they lost and can never regain. That stupid Imperial simp Barrett coerced us under the absolute worst circumstances. Neither of us wanted Gemma to be captured despite what that little bitch Demaris thinks. I am not second-guessing our decision but this…is a bit much. We are going to have voting power in a governing body we manipulated.”

Dane smirks, “Which gives us more power than we had before and power equals leverage. Besides, how do you think most of those people, our fathers included, got that gig? Their altruistic ways and positive attitudes? Come on! Even you know there are always trade-offs with these things.”

“Ethics and morals be damned, right?”

“Those only complicate everything when it really comes down to it. We have one of our best friends back and the protection of the Jedi. The Direx board membership gives us the opportunity to fight back against the tyranny of the Republic and the machinations of the Empire. Will you, at least, consider it?”

Alka leans against the exquisitely polished countertop, “What would I even do?”

“I believe Irulan said something about arts and culture. Could be fun.”

“Could being the operative word.”

“You wanted me to lean on others, let people in. This is me trying to accept that help. Hard.”

“Dane.”

“Real hard.”

“Dane! You are impossible.”

“To resist, maybe. If you do not want me to get all self-destructive then this is your way to keep an eye on me too.”

She cocks her head and crosses her arms, “Does this mean you have rethought your death wish?”

“Stop pretending me trying to spare you a tragic end is not wildly romantic.”

“Stop pretending that losing you to this insane bullshit wouldn’t kill me too!”

“Well…there it is.”

“I hate this and I hate you.”

He laughs, “You do not. Say you’ll consider it, the Direx thing? We are good partners. Let’s fuck some shit up while we can, really make our parents proud.”

“Fine,” she says with a wistful smile. “Consider it considered.”

“Good, I was hopin-”

Dane vanishes and the lights cut out.

Thunder rumbles in the distance.

Somewhere in the mansion, glass breaks.

Alka turns around slowly and mutters, “Are you fucking kidding me right now?”

She tries not to panic but fails spectacularly, frozen in place in the center of the kitchen. Relax, she thinks, it is probably your stalker. Most stalkers just want to be near their obsession. It will be like a really creepy meet-and-greet then everyone can move on with their lives.

Several of the kitchen drawers burst open on their own.

Or not.

“Gyger?” she calls, hoping the service droid had not developed a dark sense of humor. Her blaster is on the vanity in her room not doing a whole hell of a lot of good. Perhaps she should not have made such a hasty exit from the Jedi Gemma literally just sent to watch over them. No, she had to cause a scene. Make a point. Stick it to Dane and his ill-conceived antics. Despite her feeling like they totally fucked with her best friend, their spooky moves would come in real handy right about now.

There is a hum to the silence that follows then a tremendous clatter as the cutlery spills out of the drawers into the air to spiral in her direction. She gasps, moving quickly – a dancer's reflexes – evading each knife except for one. It cuts across the top of her right arm. She stumbles, briefly, as the top half of Gyger skids, sparking and smoking, across the great room floor.

Alka screams, bolting in the other direction further into the house.

As she takes a sharp corner, she slams into someone who clamps a hand over her mouth and forces her back against the wall.

“Quiet,” Garron Prescott hisses sternly, hefting a weapon in the other hand. “There is someone here.”

Fighting the urge to bite the shit out of him, Alka nods. Something else breaks, this time closer. Whoever this is is not exactly being subtle. It feels like she is being hunted which is far more terrifying when she acknowledges it. He leans close to her ear.

“Exit?”

“Study.”

She leads the way and together they traverse through the darkened house. The storm outside allows them some cover but not enough. Someone is closing the distance between them. As they near the study, there is movement from across the corridor. Garron kneels and turns to lay down cover fire as Alka unlatches the bookcase and enters the code for the blast door. He follows but waits for the door to lock behind them along with the click of the bookcase falling back into place. She tends to her wound and winces.

“What the hell are you doing here, Prescott?”

He heads down the passage, “Long story and we have to go.”

“Have you been stalking me?”

“Yes,” he says, shaking his head. “I mean, no. Not like that. You left. I thought someone might come after you.”

“Security would have taken care of it.”

“Your security is dead.”

 She stops suddenly, “How do I know you didn’t kill them?”

“You and your friends are in real danger.”

“As opposed to the very fake danger we have always been in? You are not selling me on this, especially after…after…”

The image of him with his wrists slashed open on the floor of the Gellar Penthouse lingered longer than she would have liked. He tried to kill himself once, Dane twice, and now here he is a savior in this crisis – as he had been before. The protector and confidante she had known him to be her whole life. Whatever this is, she does not want to hang around and find out the alternative.

They escape through the tunnel, passing a slain private security agent near her mother's garden, to a speeder Garron stashed beyond the tall grasses at the fringes of the property. Soaked and out of options, Alka throws a look back at her home before sliding onto the seat behind him and speeding off into the woods.

Inside the Dawning estate, crushing needlessly expensive décor beneath her boots, Alia emerges by the window just in time to catch a glimpse of their daring escape.

“Pity but there is always next time.”







-TBC

[Syren]

“You think I’m living it, living it, living it up
In the spotlight
You think I’m living it, living it, living it up
It’s a lie, lie.”

-Class Actress

Corporate Sector

D’ian: Surface: Concordia Township

Demaris Atrii places a hand on the cool, stone floor and closes her eyes.

The Dawning estate is in quite a state of disarray. Signs of an attack. Cutlery lodged in the walls and floors. Décor crushed and scattered. A small splash of blood now dried a deep crimson against the light stone. Dane was right to worry. After his call with Alka ended so abruptly, he wisely went to the Jedi. He said something felt off but could not place it. Given everything going on with her father and the rather precarious situation they find themselves in, Demaris agreed and they hopped in the Gellar shuttle and arrived on D’ian to find their fears confirmed. The Dawning security team is dead and the place is trashed. The group fans out in an armed search of the grounds.
 
Alka is nowhere to be found.

Near the garden wrapped around the north side of the mansion, Taarek pulls on his gloves and inspects one of the bodies.

“No visible blast marks or signs of abrasions. Judging by their position, they were taken down at close range. Not an amateur job. Someone with skills, training.”

“Charming,” Dane mutters, sighing despite the rising dread within him. “But where is Alka?”

“She is not among them. Possibly a good sign.”

“Not dead but captured? I warned her not to go back alone.”

Roman, concealed in full armor, places a hand on his shoulder, “Your actions did not remove her from danger and only damaged the trust she once had in your word.”

“Cold, dude. But fair.”

The sting of it is very real. He should have known that trying to put distance between them would not make her any less of a target. Worth a shot though, if it could save her. She is a public figure, adored throughout the Sector and beyond for her magnificent grace upon the stage. A loyal friend to Gemma and so much more to him. Dane knows she thinks him and this plan insane – again, fair – yet the alternative, even the notion of perpetuating the ongoing nightmare from which they cannot escape, is so much worse. He ruminates on their last exchanges, heavy with fire and hurt, trying to recall anything that may shed light on how and why this happened.

“She mentioned something about a stalker, someone leaving her things.”

Taarek shakes his head, dousing his theory into smoldering ash, “This looks too elaborate for a crazed fan. The service droid was torn in half. All that destruction feels intentional, almost personal.”

There are several people within the Sector upset with Dawning over Dyre’s murder. He’s been indicted and awaits trial but that may not have stopped one of Dyre’s allies from going after Dawning’s family. People who would make others pay in both credits and blood.

“That is hardly comforting. Let’s check with the others.”

Inside, Shendo is waiting with Demaris as she kneels in silent meditation. He studies her closely. She is one of the only people he can stand in this group. Even though she is from this world, a child of excess, she does not exude the arrogance and privilege of the others. It feels frivolous and unproductive given the threats they face and it is, for all his mistrust and suspicion, something Shendo can appreciate. Demaris draws from the Force, reaching out for the emotional imprints of the shattered scene. The air around them hums with a palpable edge. A blade, striking skin. There is a scream, a blur of motion. Something else. Someone else. Demaris opens her eyes.

“She was not alone. An ally and an enemy.”

“Who?”

“I do not know.”

“Well, a lot of good those Force powers are-”

“Have you seen this?”

Shendo, with his deep voice like heavy wheels over gravel. They move through the archway between rooms, around the corner to find a message carved into the massive blank wall where a piece of now-smashed sculpture was previously mounted.

Liars

Plural, Dane notes darkly. Not a good sign but there it is. The why. Things snapping into place. It does not mollify him. Someone knows about what really went down in the Bolerathon Tower. Knows that Dane and Alka lied to the Direx Board when two of their own were grieving their children. A few more sacrifices heaped on the altar of the prophecy. To protect their companies, to shield Gemma from blame and litigation. Selfish motives, if there ever were any other kind here, not that the Empire made it any easier.
 
It was his choice to pin it on the Chiss, dragging Alka deeper into the lie with him.
 
Could it be the Empire fucking with him? They could be seen as a liable party had their deceptions about allowing Gemma to escape be revealed. At the very least the Republic would have wanted her to stand trial, to use her part in those lives lost as a symbol to further illustrate the need for their legislative terror. Look at the Force user. So dangerous! A menace! He may have no love for Barrett Trevaithan but he did keep his smart fucking mouth of his shut. They even held off giving a statement until Pallus went on record and chose to corroborate their story – a careful gamble or savvy business move? Their stake in ChemiX elicits skepticism as they look to climb further into bed with the Gellar brand. Why not if there is currency to be made? It is in their interest for Gellar Industries to do well. So, no, probably not.

Who else would even know?
 
“What the hell does that mean?” Taarek cuts in, addressing the group.

Dane shakes his head, “Nothin good.”

*

D’ian: Undisclosed

Garron leads Alka into a bunker deep in the Tyndarian Woods.

This is it, she thinks. This is where she dies. This is what she gets for following the severely unstable former right hand of Rutherford Gellar after escaping yet another near-death experience at the hands of an unseen assailant. Everyone’s luck runs out eventually.
 
He leads her inside, the situation looking incredibly dire. He’s been squatting and the place is a mess. If she had to guess, this was one of several safe houses the Gellar’s have in and around the Sector. Alka only knows because her father has taken the same precautions. For people in positions like D’Ken and Rutherford, they could never be too careful. It makes sense he would come here, somewhere familiar yet untraceable to anyone other than the Gellar inner circle.

She almost lets herself relax when she spots the various datacards spread out across a basic black table in a way that suggests mania she is not in the mood to deal with.
 
“I know why I was returned,” he mutters lowly. “Why they brought me back.”

Oh, boy. “Do you?”

“She wants me to kill Dane.”

Alka does not react, instead deadpanning. “Looks like you and Dane have that in common then.”

He does not ask and she does not elaborate. Alka is not entirely sure she can trust him in this condition. This woman sent him to kill Dane and Dane knows he must die – connected? Possibly. Garron escaped the Gellar Tower while in custody which is impressive in and of itself. He might be the only one that could with his knowledge of every corner and conference room. She is not sure if that makes him more or less dangerous so she treads carefully.

“You didn’t.”

“No,” he whispers. “No, but she will make me.”

“How…will she make you?”

Garron’s brow furrows deeply as he looks up at her, a stream of blood slowly appearing under his nose.

“I have tried over and over to replay what happened to me. Where I was. What I was doing. The blackness, the pain, is so profound. I have spent weeks forcing myself to push through it, to reach into the depths of my memory. No matter what I do I can only bring back bits and pieces. The gray-skinned woman came to me as people I knew, loved, lost – Kylie, Celeste, Rutherford. She wanted to torment me into submission and I fought to resist her. I heard screams and thought it was Janessa. I’m worried about her. It took time but then she was in my mind. Everything inside me drowned until there was nothing left."

Alka crosses her arms tightly, fingers grazing the shoulder wound, “If you are worried about Janessa Kain, I have some bad news for you.”

“Is she…okay?”

“No,” she says evenly. “She is not. She was killed in the explosion that took out the Republic President and a CSA delegation…”

I know why I was returned.

A chill slips along her arms and she feels vaguely faint. If Garron returned to kill Dane, did Janessa return to kill Inganarre? They were both missing, one shortly after the other. A convenient cover story neither she nor Dane really bought but everyone else seemed to accept as if people went missing without any notice all the time. She supposes in some circles, on some worlds, they do. The Corporate Sector is no different. People go missing or wind up dead in ways that render the Espos more ineffectual than usual. Both taken, she muses. Taken and returned by the same person? This gray-skinned woman. A common thread for general badness if it is the same one who came to collect Alia here, on D’ian, in what feels like a lifetime ago.

All he says is, “Yes.”

“What is the last thing you remember? Before you were in the Gellar’s living room?”

“Orange. The glint of light off orange armor.”

His description of the towering terror brings back a flash of the blade cutting through Ples and the monstrosity standing behind him.
 
“Sometimes, I am not even sure if that was real.”

“It was,” she murmurs distantly. “I assure you.”

Was this so-called Inquisitor working with the gray-skinned woman? Collecting key people to do her dastardly bidding by reprogramming their minds through magic? It seems impossible, almost silly. But she has seen enough to know that it is most certainly not – impossible or silly. The prospects only grow more ominous and she has to pull back to keep from spiraling.

“Why are you here? If you will try to kill him if you are near him, why not leave this place?”

Honestly, she is surprised he has not tried to off himself again. He clearly has the time and means. Perhaps a change of heart in the darkest of hours? Garron Prescott stares at her with bleary, bloodshot eyes, rimmed with shadows.
 
“I have to help him however I can.”

“Noble, but hard to trust given what you have done. He does not want our help anyway.”

“I could not save their parents, their friends, but I can save them. Dane and Gemma are all I have left.”

“I am not sure they can be saved,” she sighs, admitting to herself what had been there all along.

Garron sits at the table in front of the scattered datacards.

“Will you help me try?”









-TBC

[Syren]

"You can ask yourself
Are we having fun?
You can ask yourself
If I am the one
But all that I know
Is money and love
Love and money
Money and love.
Love and money."

-ceo@business.net


Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Mondder

Garron Prescott idles by the landing platforms across from Gellar Tower.

His jaw is set tight beneath a pair of dark sunglasses and a cap that makes him look like an anxious tourist which is not entirely unexpected given his daring escape from this very building not all that long ago. Alka Dawning sighs, something she has become quite good at, eyes rising slowly up the impossibly textured exteriors of the skyline.

“This will never work. Coaching me from the sidelines is only going to piss everyone off, especially with Jedi in the mix.”

“Perhaps,” he says, trying to keep his tone south of shrill. “But what alternative do you see? I am compromised so I cannot do it myself. If everything you told me is true then it has already begun. Closing in on those The Four hold dear is the precursor to a final confrontation, one which will determine an outcome that seems to have been in play for longer than anyone realized. I often wonder how much Rutherford knew, if he was not stuck in a different loop, one strengthened by ambition and grief. He had his motives. I suppose we all do.”

“How comforting,” Alka groans, rolling her eyes. “Wait, if I am telling the truth? Wow, you really are something lately. We are not imagining these things, Garron, despite what they may have done to your head.”

“I do not think you are lying but allowing for the possibility it could be misinterpreted. It would not be the first time. You need to be careful.”

“Yeah, no kidding.”

Garron manages a weak smile, “I need you to be a source of reason for Dane while infiltrating the Direx board for their connections and security. There is greater visibility and insight with that access. You already have an in, you just need to capitalize on the opportunity. Can you do that?”

“Yes, but not sure it will be enough if he is intent on nose-diving into Gemma’s fatalistic assessment of the situation. Also, we lied to their faces. The Direx board would willingly sacrifice us if we were exposed. Blood for blood.”

His voice is trembling, “I will try to help with that. Hopefully, it will buy you time. Dane has considerable resources which is why I do not believe he will be directly targeted first. It would be easier to eliminate Masterton and Patten…”

“But?”

“But that is not to say they will not make him suffer along the way to bend him to their will. He is not short on enemies. None of you are.”

Alka throws a glance behind her as she steps out onto the platform, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

The lift ride is spent in quiet reflection. Everything seems to be closing in but she pushes through with the same determination that makes her such a sensation on stage. She approaches Ximena’s desk slowly and watches the admin’s eyes widen at the sight of her. Alka only made a half-hearted attempt at pulling herself together after the attack and rescue.

“Uh, hey. Irunlan in?”

Ximena glances down at her screen, “She’s wrapping up a call but…”

“It’ll only take a moment.”

She nods, tapping away at her keypad. Ximena has a list of priority individuals Irulan can be interrupted for, something her boss was rather vague but stern about. She did not question the directive and looks to the shaken prima ballerina.

“You can go on in.”

Inside the cavernous office, light piercing the room in sharp angles, Irulan rises behind her desk.

“I must say this is a surprise, albeit a pleasant one. Dane and his companions think you have been abducted or worse. They are on D’ian freaking out as we speak but I will send for them. I am pleased to see you have not fallen victim to their worst fears.”

Alka approaches and falls gracefully into one of the plush chairs, “For the moment, at least.”

“Our people discreetly took care of your slain security so no worries there. Best not to involve the Espos if we do not have to. May I ask what happened?”

“I was attacked.”

“Anyone we know?”

“Unclear,” she says, sweater sliding down her shoulder to reveal the cut on her shoulder. “I escaped before I got a look at them.”

“Well done but it clearly warrants further investigation.” 

Irulan rounds the desk, removing the bandage Garron placed there to take a look at the wound. 

“This needs treatment.”

“So, you are a medic as well?”

“I can do many things. Help build then grow this company with Rutherford; teach Dane in these ways, and try to keep him safe so that he may run it if he so chooses. However, the success of any of our business ventures is not dependent on his survival – although it is preferable.”

Irulan retrieves a small medkit and meticulously sets the contents on the desk behind her. Alka allows her to work, wincing slightly at the antiseptic sting, “That is more consideration than we would likely get otherwise.”

“You are speaking of the troubles with your father and those scrambling at Dawning Enterprises in his absence.”

“I should not be talking to you about this.”

“We are not competitors, Alka.”

“More so investment opportunity or acquisition target. I know how this works.”

“Good, then you also know it is not personal. Would you rather D’Ken’s company be torn to pieces internally or continue to flourish with Gellar Enterprise capital?”

Alka watches her suture the wound carefully but quickly then apply a fresh bandage. She has endured worse through grueling practice sessions, pushing her body to the limits for a jump or turn that appears effortless to the audience. Dane had said as much about their position, as obvious and trite as it may be. Such is the way of things here and while she may be more jaded than she wishes to be having grown up in this world, it does not dampen the fight in her.

“You make it sound so harmless. Like it would not destroy his legacy in the process.”

“Is this a legacy you wish to inherit and continue?”

“I make my own way,” she says defiantly, a mixture of rage and sorrow glowing behind her dark eyes.

“Yes, you do. And you are lucky not to be tied to your father’s business materially. It gives you far more flexibility with your future outside the twisted webs the corporations weave. You are the principal dancer in the most prestigious company in or out of the Sector with more influence than you may realize. Considering I am a fan myself, I would not be betraying my duties by telling you that there is a silver lining here.”

“I know which is why we will accept the roles of Direx.”

Irulan steps back, “Interesting. I expected that of Dane but was not entirely sure you would.”

“We have an opportunity to do some good.”

“Is that all?”

“No,” she says, recalling Dane’s words.“These positions bring us power and power equals leverage. Also, I can keep an eye on him considering his more…troubling thoughts these days.”

Irulan replaces the kit in her desk drawer and then draws a finger across the back of her chair.

“You love him. That is a statement of fact, not a judgment. I loved once and was loved in return. What I would not give to feel that again but that is no longer my purpose. As I said, although preferred, his survival is not tied to a successful business outcome.”

“Ruthless.”

“Necessary, so consider this carefully: if he chooses this path and you follow him down it, will you die with him or for him?”

*

Beneath the tower, Dr. Maumbile has procured everything he needs. Cloning tanks, hibernation chambers, and an impressive array of tools to assist with any genetic tinkering. He has begun his work, the work that Rutherford Gellar first procured his services to assist with. Now, he would honor his benefactor and friend by ensuring that while the prophecy must be fulfilled, there would be a dormant contingency ready to counter whatever darkness may follow.

Maumbile holds up a vial, extracted from the blood of Dane’s last diagnostic sample, and smiles.

Rutherford would have his revenge.







-TBC

[Syren]

“Under the sun
It’s not what they can see
Until it’s done
Your secrets safe with me.”

-Mr. Little Jeans

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

The group is reunited with Alka atop the Gellar Tower.

They find her in an elongated stretch, using the small sill as a makeshift barre. She brings her arm across the air in a graceful arch and smiles. While relief is the shared emotion, Dane realizes how close he came to actually losing her and chides himself for foolishly thinking that pushing her away would save her. She is and always will be a target. He was foolish to think otherwise.

After the requisite embraces, something Shendo shies away from, the group retires to the casual comfort of the conversation circle in the living room to debrief about the attack. Alka walks them through it, careful to avoid her rescuer in outlining the escape but reinforces that she never actually saw her attacker.

“You mentioned you have a…admirer,” Taarek says. “Someone leaving you notes and flowers and gifts. Could this have escalated beyond admiration?”

“This seems too brutal but there is a lot going on. Maybe I missed it. Still, cutting the power, the flying knife fiasco, bisecting my service droid – it all feels so, you know, intentional. Personal.”

Demaris is quick to home in on the more esoteric aspect of the story, “Flying? As in, operating independently?”

“Yes.”

“That seems more like a telekinetic attack…”

“Or the Force,” Shendo chimes in darkly.

Roman folds his arms, “Perhaps this is not a stalker or a corporate rival.”

It resonates and settles over them in a moment of silence with implications their foe is working with more power than the average executive in these parts. Something more to consider. The conversation then shifts to the aftermath; the slain security team, the spectacular mess, and the literal writing on the wall. Dane groans.

“We had to obscure the message. It would raise too many questions if left undisturbed and someone found it.”

Alka levels her gaze, “We wouldn’t want that now would we? Considering we have our first board meeting in a few days, I don’t think I have to tell you how completely fucked we are going to be if this is made public. Someone could be setting us up to fail.”

They saw how quickly the board took action against Balthazar Nash once his part in the demise of their legacies was revealed – i.e. fabricated. While Dyre may be dead, Aguilar would gladly sacrifice them both if it brought him even a whisper of closure with Ples. Retribution in the form of making their respective holdings vulnerable. Gellar capitalized on that with Nash and now Dawning.
 
What is it they say? Turnabout…and all that.

Taarek breaks through their mental spiral, “If you believe this was intended as a direct threat, it is something they could leverage. I mean, extortion isn’t out of the question, right?”

“Right. This is a classic move. Hold it over our heads while we try to draw them out and negotiate terms. Only one problem with that. If all they wanted was currency they would have demanded it by now.”

“I do not like this,” Demaris says solemnly.

“What’s to like?” Alka hisses. “We are well aware of how things went down last time. The goal of elimination was preceded by shockingly violent actions against those closest to The Four. They want you dead, Dane, but they want you to suffer first.”

The iciness of her words catches his breath yet they all know she is not wrong.

The things they had seen and read painted a haunting picture of Karen, Melanie, Kimber, and Valerie being stripped of those they loved before ultimately falling victim to it all themselves. Made for good Holo. However, the pressure of a potential sequel in what is now known to be a series of horrific cycles seems quite a bit less glamorous as part of a lived experience.

Roman surveys the group, “Then we protect both. We split up the detail to cover Dane and Alka, each with a Jedi to accompany them. It gives them the greatest chance.”

“At the very least it would give Gemma and Riley some runway to figure out a better way.”

“Not that you have much faith in that,” Alka mutters.

He holds her stare, “We don’t deal in faith, babe.”

Demaris muses, “I would give anything to forfeit such an outcome so I think you are right about more focused coverage. But I do not wish to speak for others.”

“We will do what we must to protect them. We swore it.”

Roman runs a gloved hand over his helmet, “That we did.”

Shendo nods. These people are insane. He has come to care for some through their fight for survival in a galaxy that now fears and hunts them. Although he has learned much about himself and his gifts, there is a madness in their methods. The lies the Republic told to put them in danger are just as dangerous as the ones Gellar and Dawning told this Direx Board. He can see the distinction in judgment but begins to wonder if one set of lies predicated all the others. Yet here he is, still alive and kicking. He figures he should stay the course.

Once settled, the groups are formed: Demaris and Taarek will stay with Dane while Shendo and Roman watch over Alka.

“Between the board meeting and rehearsals, you shouldn’t have too much trouble I hope.”

“If you don’t wander off again in a huff.”

“Justifiable huff! My father is set to stand trial for a murder he didn’t commit and you were hardly what I would call comforting.”

Demaris slowly paces the length of the room, “Have we considered Dawning’s predicament may be part of this as well? After all, hurting Alka would hurt Dane.”

“It does destabilize her support network. Keeps her close.”

“How very reassuring.”

Roman stands by her side, “It is not a judgment, Alka. Whoever is doing this knows you are Dane’s weakness. They may be counting on it making him reckless, pushing him to further compromise himself to protect you.”

“Strategy wise,” Taarek cuts in. “It makes sense.”

“I will not be a pawn in a game I didn’t even want to play!”

Dane cringes, “Maybe a bit late for that. Do you think anyone unwittingly involved in the prophecy wanted this? Gemma called it. They cast these roles long ago and everyone around them is fair game.”

“Always so helpful.”

“You think I like this? Here I am still butt crazy in love with you and these assholes want to use you to get at me? It’s insane!”

“I’m sorry, what now?”

Taarek shakes his head, Roman and Shendo look away awkwardly, and Demaris bites her lower lip.

Dane throws his arms up, “Oh, don’t stand there and pretend like I’m doing all this for selfless reasons. I’m Dane Gellar for fucks sake! I love you – I am in love with you – and I don’t want you to suffer because my fate is foretold or whatever.”

Alka has never wanted this boy more than she does right now but stares daggers at him anyway.

“Alright,” Roman says lowly. “We know what we must do. We need to keep you both safe and we will.”

Demaris sighs, amused by the declaration, but weary, “Speaking of, we’re going to need more of the Force vaccine if Shendo and I are to provide such protection without being tracked through our Force signatures.” 

“I got you. I’ll have Irulan send some over.”

“Much appreciated. You know, this would have mitigated a lot of damage had it been more accessible during the Republic purge of the Jedi.”

“I…didn’t think of it that way.”

“Big picture, Dane,” Demaris says, voice free of any scorn. “You may be central to the plot but it is not only you who risks harm.”

“That’s not what I…”

“I know. I am only reinforcing what you already feel. A call to action to stop what is coming. I believe Gemma and Riley will find a way but until then those we know and love will continue to be targets for agents of the prophecy. We must do what we can to protect them all. You are not naïve, Dane. Neither am I. Lives will be lost but we must minimize the damage the prophecy has the potential to cause however we can.”

He nods, despite not quite believing it himself.

Dane excuses himself to hit up Irulan for the meds, finding a quiet moment in his office. Formerly his father’s. It is not nearly as stately or impressive as the one at the Gellar Estate. He would generally head downstairs to his actual office for official matters of business. This served as more of a safe space, something away from the corporate chaos below. Dane had more recently used it to play virtual multiplayer games but often found himself in his father’s old chair, staring out into the bustling cityscape beyond the massive windows.

He taps on the console and sees a message alert…from Gemma. As usual these days, she leads with an ominous tone.

Dane – something happened on Corellia. You need to be careful.








-TBC

[Syren]

“Yeah, she’s a death wish
I don’t think we’re ever gonna fix this
Backtrack ‘til we’re dancing on the kill switch
What’s the point of praying for the wicked?
Don’t think that I wanna know.”

-Vampire Disco

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

Gemma fades from view.

So. A spy in the mix, and a dead one at that.

He replays the message several times in his father’s office. She looks harder now, even as an ethereal hologram. Her words are sharper and in a tone he did not hear very often growing up – the crispness of Gemma at the end of her rope. She must really have seen some shit, Dane thinks as he absently grips the chair. She tells him to be careful, and to trust sparingly, but the subtext is there.

Watch your back.

Shendo and Taarek are the ones he knows littlest about with Demaris closer in social proximity and Roman a true bro. It was the quiet one that got them, Gemma said. Off to the side but always with a front-row seat. They aren’t an overly talkative bunch, but he hasn’t seen or heard anything that would rouse suspicion yet. Dane knows Gemma has legit problems with the Jedi that cut deeper than bone and cross into an existential whatever so he contemplates options. Could one of those assigned to protect them be a plant and killer? An agent of the prophecy, a term they had so ominously spoken aloud earlier? He shudders to think.

The simple chirp of his com jolts him back into reality. The meds are ready. Irulan says she will have them sent up but Dane declines.

He would pick them up himself.

In the lift, he chews the tip of his thumb. Something Demaris said stuck with him. The Force vaccine could have saved a lot of lives. If they had flooded the markets, perhaps the Jedi would not be down to such a small number. Hunted, slain, and scattered. Those that remain…if they remain. Normally this passing comment would not have cut as deep yet the sentiment lingers for an uncomfortably long time. Despite her inclinations now, Demaris is one of them. She came from this sociopathic corporate scene so she would know that if they did not flood the market there was generally a self-serving reason why.

This was merely a polite way of making him aware of it - and he does not appreciate it.

Xemena has gone home for the day but Irulan still toils away in her office. As always, she looks impossibly poised with features that signal concern as part of her primary programming. Impressive elements of the person she once was. She tosses him the bag of pills that he snatches from the air on the way to one of the statement chairs positioned as an audience in front of her massive desk. Being an executive was definitely her thing.

“Thanks for the meds.”

“You came down here to tell me that?”

“I needed a little walk. Also, Gemma was attacked. One of the Force-sensitive refugees turned out to be evil. She was injured but thankfully saved by Riley’s…aunt. Apparently, our family tree is pretty wild. It was, from what I gather, a whole thing. Given she sent a security contingent our way, she wanted us to be aware. Consider this something of a debrief.”

Irulan folds her hands in front of her, “I am pleased to hear she is okay although the circumstances are certainly troubling. Considering Alka’s recent brush with death, I’d say that puts the threat level higher than it has been.”

“It does feel like an escalation.”

“What do you plan to do about it?”

“Still deciding. I may be skeptical of the Jedi ways but I do not feel Demaris would intentionally put us in danger.”

“Unless she is unaware of the danger amongst you. The Jedi seem to have a habit of being blind to the things that are right in front of them. You may want to broach that with her to be sure.”

“Good call,” Dane muses with a shrug. “She’s fairly reasonable…for an Atrii.”

“The Atrii’s are flakes. Powerful flakes and some of the oldest money here but flakes none the less. Even I see the irony in Demaris shrugging off their family privilege to serve the Jedi but I do not need a mystical energy force to know that is not why you really came here.”

“No, it’s not.”

He holds up the pills, shaking them lightly for effect.

“The reason so many Force-sensitives were identified when it all went down in the Republic was due to a lack of options. Our vaccine, a potentially life-saving drug that would have allowed them to avoid detection and escape, was nowhere to be found. I dunno, I just feel like…we could have done more.”

“We could have,” Irulan replies coldly after a significant pause. “But we didn’t.”

Dane goes there, “Intentionally.”

“When you came to me with the diversification pitch, surely you realized that would require investment. By restricting certain supplies, the prices fetched for such a drug netted a substantial sum and drove up our value across the most strategic markets. It also created the liquid capital used to acquire Palace Arms outright and further diversify our holdings in companies like Dawning Enterprises among others. This is not a new practice and restrictions around the Force vaccine supply were authorized by me after the Jedi were expelled from Chandaar in anticipation of future diversification efforts to ensure we had ample capital to do so when the time came."

She rises and rounds the desk with menacing precision.

“Where do you think all those credits came from, Dane? I certainly did not conjure them out of thin air.”

“I get it but did we, uh, happen to enable genocide in the process?”

“Don’t be ridiculous! The Republic Speaker did that. We merely profited from it. Significantly, if I may say so. Someone would. They always do. Do you now have a problem with that, given all you have and stand to gain?”

“No. Well, not…entirely but-”

“But nothing. You may have known it before – peripherally, perhaps - but now I see that you understand. It is something you and Alka will need to get over. Everything has a price. On that point, Rutherford Gellar was perfectly clear. He may have lost Abra, Blair, and Valerie, but he had Celeste, Gemma, and you.”

“The great karmic wash.”

Irulan sighs, easing down into the chair beside him.

“You know that is not what it was. Rutherford and Celeste made terrible choices based on a promise manipulated by a duplicitous, megalomaniacal brute and they both suffered dearly for it. Your father may have known he would not be able to protect you from it entirely but he did set you up to be a true contender.

You swore you were proceeding with this contingency to avoid any further generations suffering the fates of The Four. It did not please me but I agreed and summoned Doctor Maumbile who is, at this very moment, cloning three of you far below the monolith we are sitting on top of having this conversation. We must do our part. Do not tell me you are having reservations now.”

“A bit late for that,” he mutters.

“Exactly. Do not get yourself lost in the details. Your father tasked me with that. The focus must remain on your appearance for the Direx Board and the public. Ethos goes a long way and your name carries a certain cache.  You may have been nominated to serve on that board but that does not mean there are not enemies in every other chair around that table. This may also be an elaborate trap, one that the likes of the Imperial liaison and others will look to capitalize on. You and Alka must stay alert.”

“Someone knows. About the lie.”

Irulan waves away the notion, “Knowing about the lie does not necessarily mean they know the truth. Without corroboration, everything is hearsay. Pure speculation. These are things that can be spun to our advantage.”

“It could be enough for them to reconsider, make us both targets. I can’t do that to Alka.”

She grows quiet for a moment, eyes drifting to the windows as nightfall deepens over the city.

“Not an option. That is an inevitable burden for any heirs born into this world. An heir is the promise of a future, a continuation, and an extension of power and wealth unto the generations unfolding before it. It is its own form of capital, untoward as that may sound, which is why the loss of one – Aguilar, Corinthos, Kincaid – inflicts a different kind of damage. Not just the loss of a child but the loss of that promise and the future it holds.”

She smiles, something almost wistful, but there is something more sinister beneath it. The reason she was Rutherford Gellar’s right hand.

“The fundamental truth here is that their losses are our gain. The fewer the heirs, the less likely they will be able to maintain their grip on power over time. Not all can stomach these brutal realities but we must. This is the price for profit, and our endeavor needs multiple revenue streams to function both publicly and privately while protecting us from the raiders always waiting just outside the corporate compound gates. I need to know you can do this, Dane.”

A bit harsh, if he is being honest but he gets the point.

The deal with the Empire, involving Kaytt after everything, virtually sacrificing Janessa and Kier, handing the Direx Board a familiar villain to exact retribution upon, "handling" their would-be blackmailer; everything in the name of the almighty bottom line. Shareholder value, etc. The thing is…he is not sure he is quite that far gone. But what does feeling bad about it get him? It doesn’t change anything and there is value in scarcity.

The Jedi are a rare commodity now. They have something many do not and can use that to topple the Voss-Ra or leverage their expertise to dispatch the person who knows about the lie and buy them enough time to pull off the contingency. Demaris may be right about needing to mitigate the damage from the prophecy any way they could which means there would be difficult choices. Ones they would have to make based on what best served the outcome they favor. Dying is still not his preferred option but there would be a smug satisfaction popping up after the fact and sticking it to Dahlia like, surprise, bitch! Gellar in the house! Spite alone may make it worth it even with the added Sith element attached to a Winton victory.

Not their problem. At least not yet.

Irulan does not relent, “Can you do this?”

Dane’s dark eyes go blank as he leans back and flashes an easy smile.

“Yes, I can.”









-TBC

[Syren]

“In a state of confusion you made an illusion
State of confusion you made an illusion.”

-Elsiane

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

The implications of his conversation with Irulan weigh on him but he knows what he must do.

He is many things, of course; dashing, spoiled, selfish, and wealthy. All the things a good corporate heir should be – at least the ones that make headlines on the Holo. He also isn’t entirely foolish which is why he goes to Demaris. With Alka at rehearsals with Roman (as Avenarius) and Shendo, it leaves him time that evening with Demaris and Taarek in the Gellar Tower.

He excuses Taarek, asking to speak to Demaris alone.

She nods and he takes his leave, disappearing into the expanse of the penthouse.

“I am telling you this because you need to know and because I trust you. Not that Gemma doesn’t have legitimate concerns with your Order and the way of things but the Jedi, on occasion, have saved the galaxy and stuff so here we are.”

Her expression tightens, “Damning by faint praise. How very…you. What is it? Sounds serious.”

Dane outlines everything Gemma told him about what happened on Corellia after the group dispersed – the betrayal, the appearance of the freed Infiltrator, the fight that ensued, and the injuries and death that resulted from it. All stemmed from a traitor among them, the seemingly meek Lysette, who had been manipulating them the entire time with the intention of striking Gemma down before doing the same with Riley.

“As far as agents of the prophecy go, I’d say that pretty much covers it. You want to stop what is coming, so maybe we start here. With us. How well do you know everyone you brought with you?”

It stuns her momentarily silent as she processes everything he tells her. There is a flicker of anger that she did not sense anything amiss throughout their adventures - so focused on Gemma slipping effortlessly to the dark side and Roman spiraling into revenge with murderous intentions - that she did not even realize there was an even greater threat within the group. This is followed by profound grief at losing both Oz and Lysette, two who she believed they were able to save from the Republic’s purge of the Jedi and subsequent elimination of anyone who may possess any type of connection to the Force.

They have failed them.

She pushes a strand of purple hair away from her eyes and raises them to meet his.

“I could do without the accusatory tone but it is a relevant question given those rather horrific details. The truth is, I thought I knew them better than I do. That much is clear. We came together so quickly, separated into groups of Force-sensitive refugees pouring out of the Republic capital who were then shipped off to supposedly safer places. Oz, Lysette, Sirona, and Shendo remained with us, as you know. You were there at the Viperii Lakehouse when we left. Taarek was routing people out of Chandaar any way he could and joined us I believe in some part because of the devotion his father held for Melanie Masterton.

Although the refugees regarded her with suspicion, considering her background, public profile, and connection to atrocities sensationalized throughout the galaxy, Taarek saw what I saw, glimmers in Gemma that led us to believe she held a greater chance armed with the context Melanie so clearly lacked. That does not speak to motive to me if we are reasoning it out. I suppose you realize this puts Roman under suspicion as well.”

Dane folds his arms, “He faked his death to spite his shitty parents after their hand in Preston’s death. As grateful as I am that he is alive, it was not something I expected.”

“We were led to him – by Lysette. That detail holds greater significance now.”

“Not disputing that,” Dane says evenly. “If Oz was in on anything, he got a raw deal from the visuals Gemma so vividly provided. Sirona is with your brother but Gemma told me she already sent word so he is aware. We now know Lysette orchestrated this with help from the grey-skinned woman and that Infiltrator thing. Shendo is, well, something else.”

“He has always been the most skeptical of all this. Not making the kinds of connections we did with each other. The closest he came to showing any kind of warmth was when he banded together with the others to stop Roman from using that superlaser on his family. Not a small thing. However, it is slightly atypical of the Nagai to be so withdrawn. They are traditionally more charismatic, and engaging, but we must remember they all suffered extreme trauma from being turned on so ruthlessly by the Republic. They had citizens hunting them down in the streets. Shendo is a skilled warrior, best with blades so the saber comes more naturally to him, and yet he has not taken up against us.”

“Lysette had the same access to you as he did but did not strike until the time was right. Who is to say he is not lying in wait as the backup?”

“For what?”

He cannot believe that he, for once, gets there first.

“Gemma said the Corellian doctor freed the Infiltrator and likely tipped off the Republic that Corellia hasn’t exactly been operating to the letter of their stupid laws. That set in motion the conflict brewing between them. On the capital, it sure looks like Janessa Kain took out the Republic President, one of the last opponents to the Speaker's consolidation of power and increasing instability.”

He glances down and tries to swallow, mouth having gone dry.

“Garron has tried to kill me more than once and is now on the loose probably plotting to do so again. Two of those three people may be dead but actions were still carried out on who knows whose orders. The grey-skinned woman? Those Voss-Ra freaks? Other, still unknown creepers and prophecy hangers-on? What I’m trying to say is…if Lysette and her flunky-bot-thing succeeded in killing Gemma and Riley and Garron had killed me…”

Demaris’s mouth falls open, “Dahlia would be declared victor, as she would have survived the prophecy.”

“Full stop, no contingency plans. Game over.”

“And what they believe will happen with a Winton victory may come to pass.”

“Big time maybe, but yeah. They sure as hell think so and we would be unprepared to stop them. Any of them. I mean, holy shit, Dahlia as Imperial Empress? On the throne beside that nerd Barrett? Yikes.”

Demaris clasps her hands in her lap, “Right, but thankfully none of those things happened. They were stopped there and can be stopped here.”

“And what about you?"

“Me?”

“Yes, you, Demaris. You were missing for a time too. Gone after your incident on Hesperidium.”

“A few years ago, yes. The Voss-Ra tried to toss me off that bloody tower. I already explained this to everyone.”

“Janessa told me straight up she was on a fucking sabbatical with Garron so please spare me the indignation at having asked the question.”

“I was on Corellia with witnesses. You said you trusted me.”

“Trust but verify. It’s not personal.”

“I see. If we are reviewing our cohort as a whole, let’s look at the timeline. The stalker situation with Alka, and her father’s impending trial for the murder of Finnius Dyre, all happened before any of us arrived. Someone is targeting us, targeting you, but not someone in this group.”

He shudders, “Garron. It has to be Garron.”

“Why do you say that?”

“He could have left any of those things for Alka to find but Dyre was only murdered after Garron escaped our custody. You don’t think-”

“Garron didn’t do this,” Alka cuts him off, moving into the great room space with Shendo and Avenarius flanking her.

Neither Demaris nor Dane heard them enter but it could not have been long.

Dane recovers, averting his eyes from Shendo and Roman for now, and tries not to choke on his words.

“He’s done so many things that don’t make sense, Alka. Terrible things. He was sent here to kill me and he would destroy everything around me to do it. You said so yourself, they want me to suffer first. Screwing with Garron's mind, turning him against me? That has made me suffer because I can't help him, can't fix him..."

“Not untrue,” she says, still dressed in a black leotard with a thin, botanical print wrap tied around her waist.

Skin flushed, dewy from the exertion, impossibly hot.

Dane inhales sharply and concentrates on the topic, “How do you know? How do you know he didn't send you those things? Knows our secret? Attacked you?”

She contemplates, allowing the silence to become excruciating, but then she squares her shoulders and glares at him.

“Because he is why I survived."








-TBC