CC: Corporate Greed

[Syren]

"Got a taste for the cherry
I just need to take a bite.
Don't tell your mother.
Kiss one another.
Die for each other.
We're cool for the summer."

-Demi Lovato

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface

Dressed in their freshly pressed school uniforms, Dahlia Winton, Gemma Masterton and Dane Gellar ride in silence toward the high gates of Valor Preparatory Academy.

Their return to the Gellar Estate had caused some fanfare from both their parents and the surrounding community. Side effects to living a public summer vacation. With Kylie Miranda's assistance, Lady Masterton had decorated the mansion for fall. The colors and scents of the season gave the residence an inviting and magical ambience. The organization and shuffle toward a new term has always been something Lady Masterton loved. She enjoyed the mixture of emotions and the anticipation of new beginnings. She missed this part with Melanie and so she savors it now.

Falling back into a routine was met with a surprising lack of protest as they dress for school and eat breakfast. Lady Masterton watches them through the kitchen holding a cup of coffee. It seems like only yesterday they were just entering high school and all the awkwardness that went with it. They were finding their way. Now they are like old-pro's, meticulous in their own ways, as they banter with each other about classmates and upcoming activities. Lady Masterton kisses each one of them as they head out of the door, knowing that the days of seeing her children off were drawing to a close. These are the moments that make being a parent worth it.

The shiny black hoverlimo comes to a stop behind a line of similar luxury vehicles.

Dahlia slips on sunglasses and smiles.

"Showtime."

The walk from the administration building to the quad is met with the prerequisite stare as we cue the cliché slow motion intro montage set to the chorus of a trendy, sultry summer pop hit.

Muriel falls into step with Dahlia and Gemma and are soon joined by Trichelle, Alka and Preston. Behind them, Kier and Ples strut down the center of the hall with Dane and Roman between them. They move in unison, past the parting students staring and thus the social hierarchy is firmly established.

Tobias watches them as they pass, eyes fixed on Muriel.

The group approaches the open doors at the end of the hall when Demaris rounds the corner.

The soundtrack scratches off into silence.

"Hey guys. Miss me?"

Trichelle and Muriel rush in for a hug while Dahlia is staring with her head tilted slightly to the left.

What the f-

The recovery is swift but Gemma catches something in Dahlia's expression as does Demaris. There is no time to catch up as the calming alert chime echoes through the hall. They head to class where the tedium of a new curriculum begins. Shortly before lunch, behind the layers of curtains in the performing arts studio, Roman grips the base of Preston's waist, pulling him against him as their lips meet. The distant longing over the course of their childhood reached an adolescent crescendo at the end of last year. Although nothing more than a forbidden crush everyone but Alka was unaware of, Preston found that his feelings for the wayward Chiss are reciprocal.

"I couldn't stop thinking about you all summer."

"Even with your intended on Csilla?"

"She a pawn in the games my parents play. You know that."

"That isn't very fair to her," Preston says, frowning.

Roman touches the side of his face.

"None of this is fair. There would be so much trouble if they knew."

"Risk," Preston whispers. "Is sometimes its own reward."

Unfortunately, Trichelle knows this secret and has leveraged it to keep Alka at her side. And for her part, Alka has played the part magnificently if only for the social benefit and security of her friends. After she returned from Hesperidium, Trichelle named Alka her heir apparent at Valor Prep. This alliance serves to cement their group status. While kept in the dark on the reason, Preston is wary but Gemma sees advantage in using Trichelle's reputation for malevolence as a shield between them and the student body. The less people involved would minimize exposure and the dangers associated with it. It is the thing she agrees with Nevylinn the most. Her celebrity profile did raise her image but those that surround her are tightly controlled by Garron Prescott. Through Trichelle, she has the same contingency in her social life.

Dane and Roman are welcomed into the athletic elite by Kier and Ples. The boys club of billionaire parents with all the perks. With the first Chin-Bret game steadily approaching, the expectations are as high as the stakes. 

Demaris' strike had been tactically brief and she is welcomed back by her friends who would gloss over the details with their superficial agendas. She worries about her brother and the Jedi on Corellia but knows she has to focus. To be mindful is to catch every detail and Demaris absorbs each movement her friends make. She walks across the quad toward the large circular gray table everyone sits around. Muriel smiles and slides over. Ples seems strangely ambivalent to her presence. Demaris takes her place and stares at the animated faces that become the grinning masks of pretense and posturing. She has secrets of her own and she wonders what the others are hiding.



-TBC

[Syren]

"In a broken mirror
There are many things reflected.
Its one mistake
That cannot be corrected.
So now you feel
There are many things connected.
The moves you make
Will somehow be detected.
In future time
Where we will be projected
The words they fake
Will never be suspected."

-Random Factor


Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface

How is she alive?

Dahlia ponders the question alone in her room. She had grilled a stoic and unhelpful Georgie hours before but the issue remains steeped in mystery. Demaris' return had shaken things up. She claims to have needed time to grieve, a plausible blanket explanation the rest of the crew bought into almost immediately. Dahlia would shrug it off as well if she hadn't watched her shape-shifting Voss-Ra disciple hurl Demaris over a balcony atop the Bolerathon Tower.

That's, like, a million stories high.

There is no way Demaris could have brushed herself off and carried on. And where the hell did she go? She was gone for almost two months only to magically reappear on the first day of school.

The second thought that crossed her mind after the Valor Prep resurrection – does Adubell know? Dahlia had been ordered to kill the Atrii heiress after her also resurrected Master provided proof she was consorting with the Jedi Nevylinn. There is no telling in what capacity but no doubt Demaris would have been coached to say it was a form of grief counseling, something offered out of kindness and respect for the reeling family of her slain colleague. Or some equally smarmy and hopelessly optimistic reason the Jedi give when terrible shit happens.

The thing is, Dahlia felt bad about it. She didn't really want to off Demaris. She liked her, more than Trichelle but less than Muriel. The whole angsty rebel thing Demaris has going would be totally cute if she wasn't an emotional wreck. Adubell is alive, Demaris is alive; does anyone stay dead anymore? It's like a fucking soap opera with all the near misses and tales of disaster. With her father's quest for immortality horrifically realized, Dahlia is actually surprised Alexia or Karen hasn't materialized outside the confines of her warped little mind.

That's all she needs – someone else to rain on her parade.
 
Although she hates to admit it, the path to her ascension lies in patience. All that has happened has done so with a great deal of planning. She wonders if it has dawned on Rutherford and Celeste that their escape from one plot led them directly into another. That would be a tough pill to swallow if the power of their denial didn't always see them through each crisis. They want to believe the best in their children but it was never like they were dealing with the status quo. The Four had sway but the sheer gravitational force of their legacy is mind-blowing. There are so many that swirl around them, blind to the dangers and the sirens warning to stay away by the stage lights always shining. Her word may spark trends but there is a long way to go before it becomes law.

Dahlia draws strength from the abundance of anxiety and fear that runs rampant among their peers. There is so much pressure to succeed, to be the best at everything, command the greatest audience, and capture all the profits. The prep school is a breeding ground for unrealistic expectations. Not everyone gets to be at the top. Some of them know it, others delude themselves with fabricated futures of a corporate world that will do nothing but devour them whole.

She channels this fear through her dark connection to the Force. It gives her nourishment outside the physical to keep her balanced. Her focus involves tactful maneuvering and careful consideration. She encouraged Dane's fascination with Vex Sienna after he confided the Imperial liaison sought him out. Having Sienna in the back pocket couldn't hurt and she could use Dane to use him for information. She would bide time spinning that web while the Empire wormed their way into the Republic. Then there is Gemma. The blonde baroness had actually taken her advice and now she dominates the charts and channels. She's sweet, pretty and writes her own songs so naturally she's an inspiration to billions. Granted, she's got the pipes and not even Dahlia is immune to that spell. How she's managed to keep a lid on her light side inclinations while launching a music career is astonishing. Does she have help from Garron Prescott and Kylie Miranda? Those two meddle in everything. She imagines the Jedi can't be thrilled with the potential risk. A pop star outed as a Jedi would make for sensational headlines but it's not exactly the low-key role model the brown-robed brown-noser's probably had in mind for taking their religion mainstream.

Could Gemma share the same motive to influence and infiltrate from the opposite side of the Force?

That would be intriguing. It would also end badly.

For her anyway.

Now, back to the girl in question.

Demaris.

She saw the Voss-Ra in its true form and survived. Where did she run off to and who did she tell? Sharing this information could instigate a trail Dahlia does not want followed. Demaris' miracle makes her a liability and liabilities, much like plaids and stripes, are something Dahlia simply cannot abide.



-TBC

[Syren]

"When you seal it away and you're on your own
And you brush away the old war zones."

-Silversun Pickups

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

Irulan Reeves emerges from the Gellar lab holding a datapad full of notes. Her heels echo as she walks down the polished corridor and into the lifts. She adjusts the white lab coat and steps out onto the executive floor. The receptionist smiles as she passes. Irulan pauses outside the door, exhaling slowly before entering.

Rutherford Gellar sits behind his massive desk, glancing up as she approaches.

"You've come to share your results?"

"It appears promising. Using the nano-technology developed for Ibellum, we successfully spliced in the legacy gene extracted from Dane's samples. Given its unique ability to interface with complex technology, the results indicate a potent regenerative property."

"Could it replace traditional methods with bacta?"

"Potentially, yes. The healing would be exclusively internal and circumvent the need for tanks depending on the severity of the injury. Thus far it has been successful in healing cuts and burns while also fighting the infections so often accompanying them."

Rutherford muses, placing a hand beneath his chin.

"Have there been any adverse effects?"

"None of the subjects displayed negative reactions. They were, of course, extensively tested for allergies prior to beginning the trial. Anyone with allergies to the components may experience adverse effects but we do not know to what degree. The team is working on that now."

"Imagine if we were no longer reliant on bacta."

"We could save so many lives with just an injection."

"And break Thyferra's monopoly on that market."

"Also a win."

"Let me know what you discover."

Irulan nods and leaves the office. Rutherford swivels around in the chair and stares out over the vast expanse of Mondder. Irulan is a trusted confidante but he had not shared with her the extent of the legacy gene's power. Alexander Winton had discovered its potential and leveraged it so that the former Federation Viceroy Medivh could create PHAGE who, in turn, created Mara. And so on. Winton also saw it as a key to immortality but was mercifully stopped. The similarities in their ambition are not lost on him but where Alexander used Valerie to save himself, Rutherford uses Dane to save others. Ominous or not, the legacy gene is too profitable to sit on especially when a sample had already been stolen.

Alexander Winton wanted eternal life.

Rutherford Gellar wants everything else.



-TBC

[Medivh]

Corporate Sector
D'ian: Surface

Dahlia is the queen bee, no question about it. As if being a celebrity wasn't enough, she was also a senior, which held considerable clout over underclassmen.  She was also the daughter of one the most powerful families in the Corporate Sector, and adopted sister to another celebrity.

It was no surprise therefore, that Ms. prom queen was the target of adoration and infatuation by many. Students, male and female, offered to carry her books, run to get her drinks or snacks, bought her coffee, or sent her love notes.

So it was no surprise when a young freshman boy, face red with embarassment, approached Dahlia as she sat the the lunch table, surrounded by those privileged enough to be part of her posse.  Trichelle rolled her eyes, but Dahlia, ever the diplomat, smiled as the boy handed her a heart-shaped card.

"That's very sweet of you"

The boy stammered a thank you, then ran away as Dahlia opened the card, expecting to read the boy's affections.

To Her Royal Weakness,
Meet me tonight at the tree.
~Adubell


A million thoughts passed through Dahlia's head.  Adubell was here?  on Di'an?  Did she know about Demaris?  Why else could the be meeting?

Her thoughts were broken by Trichelle

"What's the little tike say? he wants to marry you? They all seem to want to marry you. It's disgusting"

Dahlia's face hid her reaction, as she smiled up at Trichelle.

"It's sweet. I'm sorry you don't have the same kind of adoration.  Maybe I'll send the next one your way"

Without waiting for a reply, Dahlia rose and hurried away from the table to the girls restroom.

There, she stared at the mirror, then back down at the card.

Before leaving the room, the card had been flushed down the toilet

*****************
It was well past midnight when Dahlia slipped out of her home and made her way to that dark tree far off on the Gellar estate.  The place where she had studied the sith holocron, learning the secrets they carried, the prophesy...

She was equipped - her tri-saber in her hand, ready to be ignited at a moment's notice as she made her way into the shadow of the hollowed out tree.

"Ah, her Royal Weakness"

Adubell, cloaked and cowled emerged from the gloom, gray skin of her face glinting slightly off of the strands of light that penetrated the tree.

"What do you want?"

"So demanding, Weak one.  What are you going to do, kill me?  Even if it could be done, it wouldn't be done by you"
"I've done it before"
"Because I let you.  And you've grown soft since I returned you to your parents.  Too soft"
"Your talking about Atrii"
"The little padawan is alive, Dahlia.  You were supposed to kill her"
"I had arranged for her to die"
"I didn't tell you to order her execution. I didn't tell you she merely needed to die. I told you that YOU had to be the one to kill her.  You passed it off to a servant.  You couldn't do it yourself, and your servant failed to do it for you."
"I don't know how she lived"

"No - because it wasn't you.  You wanted her dead?  You look her in the face and thrust your weapon through her heart, watching the life go out of her eyes.  That is how you make certain someone is dead  You need to be hardened, like durasteel. Killing is how that is done.  Atrii is your ENEMY, Dahlia.  And your weakness will get you killed"

"I'm tired of listening to your lectur-"

Dahlia's voice was cut off as Adubell backhanded her, the feel of metal jamming into her cheek gave her pause even as she ignited her weapon, the crimson beam of Alexia shining bright, Adubell's gray face now glowing in it's light.

"Your reflexes are slow as well.  The jedi - the surviving jedi could kill you. I bet even Demaris Atrii could kill you if she wanted you dead."

Adubell's hand lifted, and suddenly, Dahlia was lifted in the air, an invisible hand closing around her throat.

"It would be easier for me to kill you. To kill Demaris Atrii myself."

Dahlia's empty hand grasped her throat, closing her eyes and pushing out with the force, giving herself needed air to breath, but still hovering in the air.
"then do it - stop all this talk.  Thats all you do"

Adubell flung her hand outward, and Dahlia felt her body crash against the inside of the trunk, before she slid down, using the Force to cushion her landing onto her feet.

"I would, but you have a destiny"

"I'm not going to be a pawn in your game."

Dahlia had regained her footing and was now advancing on Adubell, her weapon protectively held in front of her body.

"pawns are dispensible, weakling.  Though I think you are unworthy, the sith lords still see potential in you. They still see you as the daughter of darkness.  They believe you can take over the galaxy.  And whether you believe it or not, I am their servant.  It is my job to make sure you succeed. To make sure your weakness is eliminated, and you are the daughter of darkness."

Adubell withdrew from her cloak and mini holo projector, activating it to reveal a spherical image, tinted slightly blue, but otherwise, an orange shade.

"What is that"

"That, young apprentice, is the world that you will take credit for rebuilding.  the very heart of the galaxy.  When the time is ripe, you will be hailed as the woman who rebuilt Coruscant.  A world that will see the end of galactic war, and end of strife, a rebuilding of hopes and dreams of many, and a world so steeped in the Dark side that it will blanket the entire galaxy.  If you listen to the weak voices in your head, this will never be yours.  But if, like the forge, you can eliminate those impurities, you might be able to grasp it."

Adubell deactivated the projector, returning it to her cloak, and drawing out a saber, activating it.

"In the meantime, I think you need some practice"

An instant later, Adubell's face and body disappeared, replaced by the face of Demaris Atrii.  It was Demaris' voice that called out to her as their blades came together.

"Try to kill me, Weakling"

[Syren]

"You gave me a taste of a life I could lead.
You gave me a face for the fools to believe.
Now I’m changing,
Becoming one of you."

-Big Data


Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface

The hiss and squeal of the sabers connecting produces an intoxicating melody. Dahlia may be out of practice but her instincts serve her well. She puts "Demaris" on the defensive and advances steadily. The sting of Adubell once again appearing in her fantastical little world brings anger to the surface. She uses it well, channeling the rage toward her opponent. Only she isn't angry at Demaris. She rages at Adubell, a Master who should have stayed dead.

Dahlia bears down with her saber, parries and leaps backwards to land on the other side of the clearing.

"Enough."

"Demaris'" image vanishes and in its place the hideous monster that is Adubell.

"So weak," she cackles. "You will never rule with such restraint."

"You know nothing of the intricacies of this world or what it takes to sway the hearts and minds of the masses. You operate in shadow, free of the watchful public eye. I'm not surprised given the company you kept. Sneaking around pulling strings. It strangled Alexia. He had Karen so tangled up in them that she never knew which way was up. They never really had a chance if the game was rigged for them to fail."

Adubell begins to circle her.

Dahlia moves to counter, saber up and ready.

"Your sisters were distracted by attachments. That is why they failed. They cared for things that cost them victory. Attachment is weakness and will lead to your downfall."

"Is your brain as dense as that hide?" Dahlia sneers. "Those I surround myself will get me where I need to go. It's not all murder and mayhem, you know. There are connections and diplomacies through which to gain advantage. If my friends begin dying, much the same way Karen's did, there will be mass suspicion when it needs to remain elsewhere."

"Manipulations are for children."

"No, they are for the clever leader who understand it takes more than might to gain a following."

"Those who oppose you must be eliminated."

"Only when it serves me. In this case, it doesn't. I can use what I know to control the story."

Adubell twirls her blade, "Fool."

"Give me some credit. We don't know if Demaris has contact with the Jedi but if she does, nothing will confirm their fears quicker than her ending up dead. If she believes I am just some banal social climber-"

"Aren't you?"

"To the untrained eye."

"Stupid girl. You seek a balance that does not exist. You cannot be both ruthless and merciful. Mercy is weakness."

"Ambition can be weakness too. Look where it got my father."

"Your father-"

"Was a great man? Yeah, heard it. Don't buy it. He used you. He would have used me too."

Adubell smiles wickedly, pointing the saber at her.

"Is that what you think? So naive. So pitiful. There is not enough hate in you."

"Oh, I hate plenty. I hate you."

"Good. Show me."

Dahlia advances across the clearing, their sabers clashing together once more. She slashes and parries; spinning and dodging Adubell's precise attacks. She draws power from all around her. The megalomania and paranoia permeates Concordia as the wealthiest are never in short supply. Adubell spins away, bringing her saber down and across quickly. It slashes Dahlia's left shoulder and the top of her right leg. Grunting, she pushes away and brings the blade through two of the surrounding trees before darting past a third. She jumps and ramps up the trunk of another, Force leaping away as the two trees crash down into the clearing.

Dahlia lands atop one of the fallen trunks with her saber firmly out in front of her.

A hush follows the roar.

She reaches out with all her senses then turns sharply as Adubell steps up onto the trunk with her, blade still activated.
 
"I am almost impressed."

"You may be all resistant or whatever but I don't need a saber to kill you."

"You can't kill me."

"Yet."

"You can't even take the life of poor, sweet Demaris. You let Gemma roam free, the replica of the one who slew your sister. Every moment the Masterton's live is a slight against your family. It makes mockery of their sacrifice while you play little games with your friends and build your brand. You don't have what it takes."

Dahlia's body tenses, eyes pooling into sheer blackness. She clenches her fist, pulsing with dark energy, as the bases of the tree trunks surrounding the clearing splinter and explodes. A ring of foliage falls around them, neither one moving or blinking as they crash down around them.

"You don't know what I have."



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface

The most important of all fall events approaches: Homecoming.

Predictably, Dahlia and Trichelle are nominated for Queen and Kier and Ples for King. The campaigns for such titles are as fierce as one would expect in the Corporate Sector. Money is no object and is generally used to purchase loyalty from the posers and hangers-on. Trichelle and Dahlia are suddenly at each other's throats with the rest of the crew caught in the middle. Kier and Ples are more focused on the big game against Valor Prep's greatest rival, the Mondder Academy.

As much as Dahlia wants to win, she wants Adubell dead more. She's deliciously dreamed of the many ways to end her from sucking her out of an airlock to smashing her hideous face to bits with a hammer. Adubell is so keen on her committing murder that Dahlia may as well start with her. Her Sith-shaming former Master needs to be put down immediately.

It's not that she doesn't see the point.

Allowing Demaris and Gemma to run around conspiring with the Jedi does not bode well for her. Everything she does will be monitored and scrutinized. However, offing both would bring the Espos and the Jedi right to her doorstep. They all know about The Event at 500 Republica which Dahlia thinks is stupid since only one of the murders even happened at 500 Republica. The boyfriend. This is why she doesn't date. Whatever. The point is the Winton offspring have quite the blood soaked legacy and Dahlia is bent on breaking new ground. The slew of dead friend's thing is tired. Now, uniting the galaxy around a newly rebuilt and ultra dark Coruscant is where the new legacy begins.

Does she really have to kill to make it all happen?

She imagined there would be a body count once it was all said and done. Unavoidable collateral. She just hoped it would be low-impact with little risk of breaking a nail or ruining an outfit. That doesn't make her weak; it makes her spoiled and spoiled is a label she can live with.

*

Gemma watches Dahlia cross the main quad to schmooze a group of underclassmen no doubt in an effort to charm them into voting for her. She has mixed feelings about the whole tradition of Homecoming but enjoys the energy. The campus is buzzing about the ceremony and pageantry of it all. The Bon-Fire generally precedes Homecoming week which involves silly skits by the seniors followed by the formal announcements for the court. The fire itself is constructed in a giant pyre behind the school and set ablaze as some kind of ritual leading up to the game. It is a sort of cleansing that is supposed to bring luck to the team.

The larger her celebrity grows, the smaller her world becomes. It is the one thing they don't advertise: becoming a star means forfeiting pieces of your personal life and privacy. School is really the only place she is left alone. The campus is closed so no press and all her classmates have some claim to fame be it familial money or a corporate legacy. She is free to learn and enjoy the company of friends. Outside these walls, Garron Prescott ensures her safety with a band of special ops Espos employed by Rutherford Gellar. As far as security details, they aren't so bad. She knows every one of them by name and is hardly the brat they expected her to be.

Gemma is a low-maintenance singer-songwriter, if there even is such a thing. She loves what she does and finds happiness others enjoy it too. That doesn't deter her from her duties and the sacrifice of her cover grants her invitations all over the galaxy. She is still mindful of her surroundings and draws strength and peace through her connection with the Force. Her nightmares had tapered off in recent months but she continues documenting her dreams and revisits them to glean knowledge. Mostly they had been about boys, well, one boy in particular. Strange to feel so strongly about someone she spent limited time with. They talk all the time yet he has remained cagey about her visiting him. There are cute boys at school but they are all the same. Riley is whimsical with an adventurous heart and Gemma Masterton has it bad.

As unsettled as he is, Garron takes her out to the lake house to practice with the saber in secret. He rationalizes that her skill is valuable against the greater threat. He has seen what she is capable of and knows damn well the security detail is a form of posturing. She has spent so much time with Alka in the studio over the years that her reflexes are sharp and attacks fluid. Gemma can handle herself but he prays, watching her deflect blasts from a training droid, that she will not meet her sister's fate.

That night, the nightmares return.

Riley aiming a blaster, faceless agents storming a house, Nevylinn with her saber ignited, a lab with a glass wall reflecting Mara's face, a giant, gaseous sphere glowing orange, Demaris thrown back against a wall, liquid in a syringe plunging into skin, hands around Kylie's throat, Dane kneeling between two gravestones all while a cloaked figure stalks silently through shadows.

She wakes gasping for air, clawing the sheets back. The memories can fade quickly and so she taps on the datapad on her nightstand and furiously inputs what she had seen. There is no context, no way to make sense of the experience but she must remember what she saw.

Gemma falls back onto the bed, images still searing, radiating with intense emotional range. She curls into a ball and sobs into the sheets.



-TBC

[Syren]

"Let your tears fall off tonight
Joy rides on the sun."
-Mutemath

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface

On a blustery afternoon, Tobias Harkan sneaks past the security milling around the Monroe Estate and raps on the patio door of Muriel's room. Her face appears a moment later full of surprise but it is that amused half-smile that propelled him over here in the first place. She pulls him inside quickly.

"Are you nuts? My mother is serious about security these days."

"Not serious enough," Tobias says. "They look bored."

"Everyone is bored here. It's, like, an affliction or something."

"We've been sneaking around for months."

"That doesn't make it any less….dangerous."

"For who? You are afraid of what people might think. Your friends. Your mother. Your mom only showed up at the Bonfire to appear involved but where is she now?"

"Press junket off world? Actually, I'm not sure."

"Exactly and your friends only care about their reputations. You were robbed of the Homecoming nomination, by the way."

"Those kinds of things don't really mean much to me."

"That's why I like you."

"Because I'm indifferent?"

He touches the side of her face. She stares into his dark eyes.

"Because you are just as damaged as I am. Everything Concordia stands for is bullshit. They hide us away on D'ian so we don't see just how ruthless they are willing to be, all the terrible things they do to keep themselves in power. But I see it and so do you. This giant façade will end one day and we will be expected to be just as ruthless and terrible to maintain that power."

Tobias lights a joint and hands it to her. Muriel pushes back her blonde hair and tokes it twice before handing it back. He enjoys watching the smoke dance between her lips before curling out into the center of the room.

"You make it sound so sinister."

"It is," he replies, stifling a cough. "Here we are in our senior year with all the showy ceremony and forced camaraderie when we know damn well in a few years we will be tearing each other's throats out for the financial upper hand."

Muriel sprawls out on her bed, "Not everyone is ready to face those facts. Some of us prefer to stay cloudy."

"Cloudy doesn't have to mean uninformed. The people you hang with, all those stories. Tell me you haven't thought about what could go wrong there."

She takes another hit and giggles.

"Soooo many times."

"How are you and I more dangerous than they are?"

Muriel sits up then leans over to kiss him.

"You are so beautifully misunderstood but sometimes I think you don't want people to understand you. I don't really want to be understood either. I just want to…be."

"How can you be if you and everyone you know are keeping secrets?"

"I keep a low profile so no one bothers me."

"Of course no one bothers you. There isn't a shield generator stronger than Dahlia Winton and her faux-siblings. With those last names, you think anyone is going to ruffle your feathers?"

"Not bloody likely."

"It's not a bad plan, per se, keeping them between you and the cruel politics of high school. But their protection means you have to behavior a certain way. The illusion must be maintained."

"In public anyway."

"You think I jeopardize that?"

"You know you do and that's the thrill. I didn't know they were going to ice you from the group. They all know you didn't try to kill me. I tried to kill myself but having someone to blame is easier for them than dealing with the depression that caused it. We are all sad, disaffected clichés but some of us are much better at hiding it than others. I do it too but it's exhausting."

"Then why do it?"

Muriel falls back against two giant pillows and pulls her knees up.

"Making everyone believe it turns me on."

Tobias flashes a wide smile.

"Good to know but I don’t care what they think."

"If you didn't, we wouldn't be talking about it. Just because your father isn't a Lord of D'ian like Gellar or Atrii doesn't mean you can shrug off all those expectations without consequence. We make believe for a lot of reasons but at least we can be honest with each other about it."

"Each other but no one else?"

"They don’t understand," Muriel says. "Different priorities, I guess. I don't want to grow up just to be married off to someone I can't stand so that the Monroe's future is secure."

"So, you'd rather spend your time being in photage with Dahlia as part of her entourage?"

"You say that like I don't approve. She isn't the first girl to capitalize on her looks. I don't begrudge her that but if I wanted fame, I would just use my mother's connections in the industry. I'd be a starlet overnight. I like being left alone…with you. Don't you enjoy staying out of the fray?"

"For the most part but their behavior borders on the unbearable. They hide who they are in order to appease a system they don't even like. At least you can be real with me, more so than anyone else I know on this rock."

"You may be a little paranoid."

"We should run away."

"Where would we go?"

"Somewhere where we won't be victims of their circumstances."

Muriel frowns, "The royal "them" or the populous?"

"You know what I mean."

"Maybe…but probably not. My friends aren't out to hurt us, Tobi. We are just gossip and drama to them. We can enjoy the adventure and do our own thing."

"Easier said than done. I don't mind being your secret but I bet they would."

She tokes on the roach before stamping it out in a dish on her nightstand.

"Trichelle might but the others would get over it."

"I thought that too but they have their own interests to protect."

Muriel turns and stares dreamily at him.

"Don't we all?"



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Valor Prep

Colored lights swirl over the mass of dancing teenagers as the Homecoming Dance kicks into high gear. Lady Celeste Masterton beams from the punch table as she chats with others parent chaperons. She loves volunteering for these events as she is an active member of the Parent-Teacher Council. Celeste serves as chaperon along with Minda Aguilar, Dirk Kincaid, Grigoria Stanton, and the evenings sponsor, Alaan Aftar, founder and CEO of Aftar Pharmaceuticals. It is ChemiX's greatest corporate rival, sole viable competitor and resident poacher of the science department. Many of the rising stars are selected for the Aftar Collegiate Program with a guaranteed entry into the company upon graduation from University. It is also the main reason Rutherford sited in getting out of this event to a disappointed Celeste.

Lady Masterton thought it important to cheer Dahlia on. These are milestones they missed out on with Melanie and Valerie. It is very important that she participate and show support, stemming from the deep well of guilt she must continually work through. Her therapist calls this over-compensation. With Melanie, she was there for nothing and so with Dahlia, Dane and Gemma, she is there for everything. She looks forward to doing this for Dane and Gemma next year and pours punch for the excitable teens.

Across the room, Alaan takes a call and ducks out of the room. Celeste catches Minda's eye and shakes her head as the Dean steps onto the stage to crown the Homecoming court. Everyone gathers around, the court takes the stage. Dahlia is perfection in a simple black and gold embellished Nalaa Gray gown with Ples Aguilar escorting her. Celeste clasps her hands together in anticipation.

"Our Homecoming King," the Dean says. "Kier Kincaid!"

He steps forward, flexes, laughs and accepts the scepter and crown.

"And now, the moment we've all been waiting for – Our Homecoming Queen."

The auditorium goes silent.

"Dahlia Winton!"

Screams and cheers erupt from the crowd.

Celeste is teaming with pride, clapping enthusiastically. Demaris leans against the wall nodding slowly because it's just so typical while Ples grins vacantly. Trichelle storms off the stage in tears as the crown is placed upon Dahlia's head. She waves to her classmates and takes Kier's arm. Knowing that Aftar's speech is up next, Celeste glances around for him. The son-of-a-bitch couldn't even be bothered to at least feign interest in the defining moment of an event he bankrolled. Sighing, she crosses the room and pushes through the doors into the corridor.

"Alaan?"

The silence is more than a little unnerving.

There is something black in the center of the hall, obvious against the polished white tile. She notices a red streak beside it as she nears. Great, kids are wandering around spilling punch everywhere. Celeste kneels down to pick it up but the streak is much darker than the punch. The object is a com-link and now the streak looks like blood. Her back straightens and she stands quickly, reaching out through the Force. Sensing no immediate danger, she turns.

"Alaan, this isn't….."

Alaan Aftar's body is crumpled into a corner, neck twisted at an unnatural angle. She doesn't need her doctorate to know he's dead but the horror swells intensely as she reels away. His wide eyes stare off into space.

Celeste screams.



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Gellar Estate

Espos Elias Muir waits until Celeste Masterton places the saucer of tea back on the ornate dish with shaking hands before he continues.

"Lady Masterton, you saw no one else with you in the corridor?"

She shakes her head, eyes bleary and red from crying.

"No, he was in the auditorium with us the whole evening but he took a call."

"Do you know from whom?"

"He was on the other side of the room; it was loud with the music…"

"And then he left?"

"Yes, and never returned. He was supposed to speak...I went looking for him..."

Muir was on the first on scene once they received the call from Valor Prep security. Celeste was in shock and could barely speak so at the request of Lord Gellar, he brought her home. Her adoptive daughter, Dahlia, held her hand on the silent ride back. She seemed annoyed as this had no doubt ruined her evening as the Homecoming Queen. She mentioned something about a party but reluctantly parted ways with her friends. The Winton name gives him pause but Dahlia was on stage in front of nearly a hundred people so this faded as quickly as it arose. Once inside the Gellar Estate, Dahlia disappeared upstairs and they were joined by Rutherford Gellar and his associate Garron Prescott.

Lord Gellar is no fool and knows how this looks. Alaan Aftar was his greatest professional adversary and their exploits, including several heated verbal exchanges, were well documented on Mondder. However, Lord Gellar does have an airtight alibi as he was home all afternoon and evening with his son, Dane, daughter Gemma and their associate Garron Prescott.

This turns things to Lady Masterton and Lord Gellar is having none of it.

"She's already told you what she knows. The security cam's will confirm it."

"That's the problem," Espos Muir says. "All photage of that corridor is unavailable."

"Unavailable how?" Garron asks from the sidelines. "Surely Valor Prep is in full cooperation with your investigation."

"They are and surrendered the photage as soon as we asked but it appears that the two cam's that would corroborate Lady Masterton's statement are both dark. Some kind of malfunction, we're told. A glitch."

"A glitch?"

"Oh, it sounds suspicious to you as well. I'm glad you caught that."

"Now, listen here…"

"Lord Gellar, Lady Masterton, I mean no disrespect but you must imagine how this appears to someone trying to piece together a chain of events. The wife of Alaan Aftar's enemy discovers his body and the photage that would prove her innocence is conveniently destroyed."

"That's ridiculous," Rutherford snaps. "You said his neck was severely broken and I'm certain your forensics will find it highly improbable that someone of Celeste's stature could even accomplish such a feat."

Espos Muir nods.

"Perhaps but brute strength isn't the only means of dispatching a rival."

"What are you implying?" Garron asks icily.
 
He levels his gaze at Celeste.

"Connections to the Force run in your family, do they not?"

"I hardly see how that's relevant."

"I disagree."

"This isn't the bloody Republic," Rutherford bellows. "The Corporate Sector is above such pedestrian witch hunts."

"I must explore every possible avenue, Lord Gellar. Surely you realize what this could mean for you on Mondder? The loss of so formidable a competitor would present…an opportunity."

Rutherford already thought of that which is why he placed a secure call to Irulan Reeves immediately after speaking with the Espos. The ChemiX board would convene in the morning to discuss how this would work in their favor. The Aftar Pharmaceutical board would be distressed and potentially vulnerable without their genius leader at the helm.

He will not give the Espos the satisfaction.

"You will not insult me or harass my wife in our own home. You have your statement so, if you please, it is very late. Prescott will show you out."

Espos Muir rises from the table and follows Garron Prescott back through the foyer toward the door.

"Notify us if the Lady of the house decides to leave the Sector."

"You make her sound like a suspect."

"Right now," Muir says. "She's the only suspect."

*

He is sitting in his idling speeder in the middle of a dark road. He doesn't have the faintest idea of how he got here or where he is. The last thing he does recall is getting ready in his hotel room, a dinner reservation booked for seven-thirty. Now he sits in the middle of this road. He shutters and glances down, noticing he is wearing the suit he had brought with him from Mondder. His white shirt is creased and there is a dark stain near the forth button with crimson flecks surrounding it.
He inhales sharply, rubbing at it with his thumb.

It is still wet.

His arms are sore and his heart races. He pulls at the mirror, inspecting his face. He looks wired with hair that is surprisingly stunning. Outside the speeder, he pulls off the jacket and strips out of the shirt. The night air is frigid with the first signs of winter frost causing the blades of grass to shimmer beneath the moons pale light. He turns off the speeder and rummages around inside. It is a short walk through the field to the thick forest beyond and he walks through the darkness instinctively. He kicks together some fallen leaves and tosses the shirt on top of them. They catch fire quickly and he slips the lighter back into his pocket while he watches the shirt burn. He doesn't know why he does this but he does.

Once the shirt has burned down to virtually nothing, he stomps it out and scatters the remnants in the field on the walk back to the speeder. He straightens his under shirt and pulls on the jacket, taking a moment to appraise the look in the side mirror. Not as formal as he would like but it will do.

Back inside the speeder, he races down the unknown road until his computer recalculates the route. He follows it back into town where he arrives at the restaurant at seven-twenty-eight. The host greets him, glancing with concern at his lack of dress shirt while showing him to the table.

Kylie Miranda turns and flashes a smile, a vision in an amber dress.

"I thought you'd be late."

Vex Sienna kisses her and takes his seat.

"For dinner with you? Never."




-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

The murder of Alaan Aftar sends shockwaves through the corporate community. It dominates the Holo cycle in the days that follow with Celeste Masterton's name attached to the story. She was one of the last to see him alive and discovered the body. There are hints of suspicion in the commentators rhetoric as to the nature of her involvement but thus far, the Espos have released nothing of their investigation other than that Lady Masterton is a person of interest. Espos Muir believes it may be more than that but with so many others to interview; he has yet to present anything conclusive to the District Attorney.

Rutherford Gellar does not take this lightly and goes on record that his wife is innocent while mobilizing his board to strike at the heart of Aftar Pharmaceuticals.

His statement is firm but simple:

"This is a tragedy and the scientific community has lost a great mind but pointing fingers at pillars of our community will not bring the murderer to justice."

He knows this doesn't necessarily help Celeste's cause yet as a titan of Mondder; it is much too lucrative an opportunity to ignore. He would have done the same in any instance where a rival became vulnerable. Such is the way of things here. Fortunes are made on the missteps of other companies. ChemiX is thriving but assimilating Aftar Pharmaceuticals would bring them to another level entirely and give them a monopoly on the industry in the Sector.

This is best for all parties involved.

However, Celeste was an unexpected yet marvelous variable.

Reporters flock to D'ian but are hindered considerably by the restrictive privacy laws. So they go after the next best thing: Rutherford Gellar. On Mondder, he is fair game but he dispatches his most cunning public relations specialists and legal team to run interference while he meets with the Aftar Pharmaceuticals board. The proposition is simple, merge with ChemiX or be trampled in the take-down. Alaan Aftar was the genius behind it all and although his board is savvy, they are notoriously self-serving and lack his creative vision. Alaan did not have a right-hand to lead them in his absence the way Rutherford does with Irulan Reeves. He had made considerable contingency plans long ago when the threat of Alexander Winton's revenge was all too real. It is both comforting and profitable to see that Alaan had not done the same for his hypothetical doomsday scenario.
 
Of course, the media isn't all sensationalist hearsay and jump on the fact that Gellar is conveniently circling Aftar Pharmaceuticals. His PR team works their magic in reframing any moves made as Rutherford's way of honoring Aftar by preserving his legacy. They paint him as a savior in AP's dark times.

Vex Sienna tries to remember what happened that night but all he ends up with is blackness. The loss of time, burning the blood stained shirt, a corporate executive found murdered the same night. It doesn't take much for him to put the chilling pieces together with the haunting dread of not knowing what Burke Pallus injected him with. He has had lapses in time before but only briefly. He prayed it was not related but deep down, Vex knows the lengths to which the Empire will go to get what they want. And a ChemiX monopoly in the Corporate Sector was chief among them. Their investment in Rutherford Gellar's company, in exchange for his release from the Empire, had proved very valuable indeed. The Ibellum serum, purchased for experimentation, had tested well or so he had heard. Now he wonders if he may be the test. Seeking traditional medical treatment may garner suspicion but he if reaches out to Kylie for help, Pallus had threatened to kill her.

Vex is trapped without knowing what is happening to him.

On D'ian, a traumatized Celeste remains within the Gellar Estate. The community of Concordia is predictably skeptical. Although she is well liked and respected among them, they are always wary and quick to judgment. Her co-chaperons of the Homecoming dance have rushed to her defense, citing that Aftar had been gone far longer than the time Celeste left the auditorium and found his body. Others whisper rumors that she had used her Force abilities to eliminate her husband's rival. The subject was seldom discussed on D'ian.

Despite her powerful connection, Celeste only ever used the Force for meditation. She was not a practiced Force user nor had she received any training outside of what she had learned with Monica Greyson and what was shared by the Jedi Master Corrin. Still, the stigma persisted through The Four's legacy with Celeste tied directly to it. She taught her children about it and to always remain mindful. She had to take great care in any exposure both for herself and for her children. Over time, they had been weaned off the Force vaccine and Celeste kept her usage to a minimum.

To keep herself busy, she helps Kylie ready the house for the holidays. It is one of her favorite times on D'ian when the snow begins to fall. Dane is riding high after winning the Homecoming game against Mondder while Gemma wrestles with untangling her visions. Riley has been dodgy in her last several transmissions to him, avoiding any references to her coming to Corellia. Her management company thinks it’s a great move as her album is selling well there. She warned Riley about what she saw but he nervously laughed it off. Between keeping an eye on an ever-more-curious Demaris, deciphering Riley's oddly aloof behavior, and plotting out a tour schedule it is a welcome release to get back into the swing of things at school. Dahlia's popularity is soaring thanks to the newly minted title, dethroning Trichelle as the end-all, be-all of Valor Prep. This causes a compelling tension in the group and commands attention from all the student body. Trichelle plans to usurp this power back by Prom but Dahlia's eighteenth birthday party blowout that included almost their entire senior class puts that goal in serious doubt. Despite the spectacular veneer, she struggles with her role in things to come. She must continue to put one heel in front of the other and move forward.

 Dahlia focuses on the trip to Chandaar, now just weeks away. So many questions swirl in her pretty little head. If this is so important then she needs to be smart about but there isn't a law that says you can't be both smart and stylish.

And if there is anything Princess Dahlia Winton knows how to do, it's make a scene.



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface: Concordia Township: Gellar Estate

Lady Celeste Masterton wanders through the sprawling residence, admiring the festive decoration. They had done a fantastic job on the house this year. Everything is almost as it should be. She has been careful to avoid the Holo and the only time she leaves the Estate is to meet clients at her office in town. She evades the less-than-subtle suspicious glances while maintaining a flawless exterior of dignity and strength. Celeste preaches living an authentic life, true to ones feelings, but she also acknowledges the reality in which they find themselves. The truth is, the Corporate Sector is not the place for the sensitive or weak and while not everyone can be strong all the time, they must then learn to perfect the art of pretending otherwise.

The entire performance runs counter to her philosophy yet there is comfort in knowing others turn to her as a sounding board for their very real emotions. She may not be able to lessen the pressure mounted against them but she can assist in mitigating the damage by listening and offering sincere council. Her work has always brought her peace even when her personal life was spiraling out of control.

She runs her finger along the freshly polished banister as she ascends the stairs to check on the children. The semester is drawing to a close with holiday break only a few days away. Celeste first stops by Dane's room and finds the door locked. Mildly annoyed, she knocks until Dane opens it looking startled and guilty. She breezes past him with a curious look.

"What do we say about locked doors in this house?"

"It's, like, not good or something?"

Rounding the corner, she spots Alka perched on the side of his bed reapplying the lipstick smudged on Dane's mouth. Well, she can't say she didn't see this one coming.

"Miss Dawning."

She smiles widely.

"Lady Masterton. I was just leaving. I have…rehearsal."

"Have a good afternoon."

"Likewise. Bye, Dane."

Once she has gone, Dane makes the predictably faux-outraged sigh teenagers learn to perfect throughout adolescence.

"Thanks, mom! We weren't doing anything."

"That's a lovely shade of lipstick," Celeste quips coolly. "What color is it again?"

He whirls around to the mirror, wiping at it with the back of his sleeve.

"Aside from kissing."

"The start of so many adventures. You know…."

"Ohhhh nooo, we're not having that conversation."

"What conversation?"

"You know which one! The one we, like, cannot have right now. It's too embarrassing. Can't we just forget about the whole thing?"

"Was there going to be a 'whole thing?'"

"Mom!"

Celeste waves a hand through the air as if to halt the oncoming freak-out.

"If you can't even talk about it, you aren't ready for it. Just my opinion anyway. I am not saying it's bad or wrong, just that is requires a bit more consideration than that look you had on your face when you answered the door."

"I didn't have a look."

"There was definitely a look. I've seen a similar look before…on your father's face."

"Gross, mom. Can you just leave now so I can die of mortification?"

"Don't be so dramatic," she laughs. "Alka is wonderful. She's clever, creative, she keeps you honest. And she is a woman, Dane, a lady of D'ian, and deserves respect. All I ask is that you use sound judgment and stay true to how you feel. Okay?"

He crosses his arms and nods, "Okay."

She kisses him on the forehead and messes up his hair before heading down the hall to see Gemma. She is lying on her bed, tapping away at a datapad.

"Business or pleasure?"

"Business," Gemma says. "A report. The last of the semester, thankfully. Then I can worry about the tour schedule."

"I thought you had it all worked out?"

"With the exception of one thing: Corellia. The production company really wants me to go but I get the feeling Riley doesn't really want me there."

"Why wouldn't he?"

"I don't know. He's a boy and he's weird but in an infuriatingly adorable way, you know?"

"I know. So, go for your fans and perhaps he will come around. Garron will be with you and I'm sure you will love Corellia. When were you thinking of going?"

"Maybe over break."

Celeste frowns.

"Break starts in a few days. Is there some kind of urgency?"

Honestly, Gemma isn't sure. There may be given what she saw in her dreams but there isn't enough to produce a credible threat. Still, she must at least see for herself.

"You have to have a presence in the hot markets to grow your brand or so they say. I won't be long."

"Be back with enough time to prepare," she says, pushing the long, golden curls off Gemma's shoulder. "I don't want you falling behind next semester."

"I won't, promise."

At the end of the hall, Dahlia paces in front of three carefully designed outfits. She throws her hands up and sighs. Hers is better than Dane's, filled with a mixture of angst and a finely drawn concept of exasperation.

"I just don't know."

"Know what, darling?"

"Which one to wear when I arrive on Chandaar."

Celeste glances to the bed; an embellished romper, strapless dress with mini-sweater, and a vintage gown with cape.
 
"I suppose that depends on the statement you want to make."

"Somewhere between 'who me?' and 'I'm back, bitches!'"

"Dahlia."

"What? Sorry! This is important."

"There are a lot of important decisions to be made now that you are eighteen. You get to choose what you want to do, where to go from here, who you want to be – exciting times. Enjoy them."

Dahlia turns to look over her shoulder, "Oh, I am."

"I want you to be extra careful. I hear the Empire will be making a visit."

"I thought you weren't watching the Holo."

"Your father told me."

"Of course he did. The last thing I want is for you to get all worked up so can we just skip the tears and get to part where I tell you I'm going to be fine? Serinus is, like, way far from the government sector of the city. They can't even get there without going through Five Points and politicians hate that. Too many vices on display."

"That is hardly comforting."

"But it was amusing," Dahlia says, holding up the strapless dress. "I think this with the sweater is the most appropriate, don't you?"

"It's lovely. Have fun and make sure Georgie stays close. I am so proud of you, Dahlia. You've accomplished so much. I simply cannot wait to see all the great things you will do."

They embrace and Celeste takes her leave.

Dahlia watches her go with a conflicted heart but she turns back with the determination to explore a destiny that awaits her on Chandaar.



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

Etti IV: Surface: Mondder

Rutherford Gellar sits behind his massive desk scrolling through financial news.

The markets can be volatile but those are the risks. After some debate, the Aftar Pharmaceutical board voted in favor of the ChemiX merger and Rutherford approved the acquisition. This caused some backlash given the nature in which the opportunity presented itself but the Espos could provide the District Attorney with no evidence linking Celeste or anyone else to Alaan Aftar's murder. Therefore, she was dismissed as a person of interest and the case turned cold.

Granted, there is still public opinion with some of the more outrageous commentators speculating that Celeste committed the murder to give Rutherford a professional advantage and the means through which to acquire Aftar Pharmaceuticals. It is a lurid theory but one Rutherford finds ludicrous. Celeste has always been gracious in avoiding his business life and he, in turn, did not interfere with hers. He is grateful no charges would be brought and Celeste spared a messy trial. The divisiveness of the situation has no doubt put a dent in her social calendar but she's strong and would rise above it.

His admin puts a call through from Chandaar.

"Miss Kain," he says, swiveling around in his chair. "This is a surprise. How are the Republic markets today?"

"Strong in your sector. The Republic has taken the news of the acquisition well and it seems they favor Lady Masterton as investors would not lend credence to the recently dismissed allegations against her."

"She does have that effect on people."

"She's intrinsically good," Janessa says. "A rarity these days so they are wise to acknowledge it. Business aside, my call is more…personal."

"Oh?"

"I trust you've seen the Imperial delegation on the Holo."

"Who hasn't? Something so historic is bound to dominate. Or is it idiotic?"

"A little of both, I'm sure. Time will tell."

"Someone is always playing someone else."

"That's how the game works," Janessa says sly. "Speaking of peculiar appearances, I did attend Escara Wu's fashion show and Emperor Schrag himself was there. Surreal does not begin to describe it. Your daughter was marvelous, by the way. She stole the show."

"I am pleased to hear it. Were you able to see her?"

"Briefly and it is the reason for my intrusion into your afternoon. Dahlia attended the after-party on the arm of the Imperial liaison. It caused quite the stir."

"I saw," Rutherford says, having caught photage of them leaving a restaurant. "A striking boy who, if I'm not mistaken, got the Republic to agree to terms."

"His name is Barrett Trevaithan and yes, apparently, he's some sort of wunderkind and one of the Emperor's closest advisors."

"That does seem odd for someone so young. How did Dahlia even meet him?"

"He attended with the Emperor. They met at the party from what I can tell but, given the Winton history with the Empire, I thought it prudent to share it with you personally instead of having you speculate with what they run on the Holo."

"That is very thoughtful, thank you. Do you see a problem?"

"On the contrary," Janessa says. "Her profile and ties to the Sector could be good for Imperial-Sector relations. Everything appeared above board."

"That's your professional opinion but it isn't why you decided to make the call."

She had debated it but something about the ease with which Dahlia seemed to sweep him up bothered her. She paraded him around so boldly that it made her wonder what they were up to.

"No, it's not. Personally, it worries me. Emperor Schrag is a notoriously shrewd and secretive tactician. There is very little done without careful consideration. The Republic truce is huge and with all eyes focused on that, there may be other variables at play."

"I do not think he would be foolish enough to try something so soon out of the gates but I agree that there are layers to his motives."

There certainly were when it came to exchanging his freedom for a piece of his company.

"Exactly which is why I am leery of any untoward Imperial interest in Dahlia."

"As am I. She will be home soon with the semester starting but I appreciate your concern and your discretion. Please let me know if there are any other developments."

"Of course."

He taps off and scans across the pictures on his desk. Celeste and his children smile happily in a group shot, his second chance at a complete life. He unlocks and pulls open the third drawer in his desk and lifts out of a picture of Blair. She looks so much like her mother and Valerie like her that it is lesson in how strong genetics can be. His first daughter, the one he has never been able to forgive himself for losing as his eyes travel up to the roof above where she had leapt to her death. Her body had passed this very window. He replaces the picture with trembling hands.

As objective as he must remain, his family history with the Empire is sordid at best through the machinations of Alexander Winton. Winton played into his greed and cowardice at losing power that it drove Rutherford to forfeit Valerie and drove Blair to suicide. His revenge came in the form of betrayal by Winton's own wife. By helping the Queen and rescuing Celeste and Dahlia, he had taken back some of what had been lost. With the Empire entering Dahlia's orbit it presents an unsavory opportunity. He is unsure the Emperor would take it so brazenly by beguiling Dahlia with the charms of some boy but it is not entirely out of the question either. Rutherford is calculating enough to see the potential and with the truce such an ally could be profitable all around.

Dangerous but profitable.



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

Surface: D'ian

Demaris Atrii has kept an extensive field journal on her observations of Dahlia Winton. Most of her findings were inconclusive as the princess kept her cards pretty close to the chest. Although Dahlia did hold considerable sway with their classmates, she had never exposed herself in a way that could be construed as sinister. Demaris begins to wonder if the Jedi were wrong about her or if Dahlia was more cunning than anyone ever imagined.

For her own development, Demaris hones her skills daily and meditates every evening. She has plenty of time and space given her parents seldom makes an appearance at the Atrii mansion. She has grown rather acrobatic in her movements and challenges herself to push beyond her physical limitations. A surprising facet of her abilities came in the form of healing. She had taken a bad landing after several flips and sprained her ankle but with careful concentration and a command over her burgeoning skills in the Force she had repaired the damage entirely.

Curious to her response in a more serious crisis, Demaris went to the kitchen and sliced open the palm of her hand. As she watched the blood stream into the sink, she closed her eyes and directed her energy toward the wound. It healed without as much as a scar.

Was this her calling?

The most significant finding was in the weeks after Dahlia left for Chandaar. Since her return to the Sector, Ples Aguilar had been distracted and distant. He followed Dahlia around like a pet, igniting rumors they were an item which left Demaris heartbroken. She couldn't blame him, not really, given she had disappeared for months after they shared one kiss. It's just that Dahlia could have anyone and never so much as looked at Ples that way before.

In the days after she departed, he became more animated and engaged with the rest of the group. Even Kier mentioned it and he can be pretty dense most of the time. Ples began to spend more time with Demaris and although she was at first leery of his motives, she grew to see this return to normalcy only occurred when Dahlia was no longer around.

Acting on a hunch, she broached the subject over winter break. Ples seemed confused; unaware he had become distant toward Demaris. He remembers their kiss and her disappearance but then he described everything that followed as 'foggy.' This daze implied he was not in control which begged the question – who was?

There is no indication that Dahlia knew what had really happen to Demaris on Hesperidium or if she has any connection to those creatures. It just seems rather suspicious that Ples had been the last person to see Demaris before her disappearance then grew so close to Dahlia in the ensuing months. The thing she liked most about Ples is that he shared her distain for the casual cruelty of their way of life. Despite his title and considerable wealth, he never bought into the whole Corporate Sector mentality – the kill-or-be-killed way of things. Dahlia embodies the shallow charm of the idle rich and that was never something Ples found attractive.

Demaris pour back through her notes on Dahlia, scanning for any clues that might suggest she did something to him. What if he discovered what really happened in the Bolerathon Tower and she made him forget? Would Dahlia keep him in a haze to prevent him from digging into it further? This is all speculation but it's the best lead she's had.

She decides to alert the Jedi to the possibility.

Demaris uses the com-channels supplied by Director Elon Veritaas to try and reach her brother first then Master Nevylinn.

Neither answer. 

Next, she calls the Patten Ranch.

After several attempts, there is finally an answer. The static clears to reveal a striking woman with light hair and an expressionless face. There are sounds in the background, low and unclear.

"Hello."

"Hello," the woman says.

"Who are you?"

"Who are you?"

"I'm Demaris."

She pauses, as if recalling something.

"Demaris Atrii of the Corporate Sector."

"Yes, is Riley there?"

"Riley…" the woman trails off before flashing a hint of a smile. "He is unavailable at the moment. May I help you with something?"

There are more sounds, something eerily close to blaster fire.

Demaris suddenly has a terrible feeling.

"No, that's okay. I'll catch him later."

The woman's steely gaze sends shivers down her spine and she quickly cuts the connection. Who was this woman and why was she answering Riley's consol? The feeling of dread begins to spread and she backs away from the desk feeling very exposed. She tries Director Veritaas but the channel is busy. This does not ease her alarm but she has no one to turn to for answers.

What is happening on Corellia?



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface

The school semester begins without much fanfare and the students dive right back into the challenging curriculum. Gemma utilizes meditation to try and free her mind of the horrors she witnessed while trying to downplay her concern for Riley. It's not like she can tell anyone other than Garron without fear of upsetting them. Everything was so horrible she can barely process it. Lady Masterton wants to know all about the trip and the concert which they assure her was a great success.

Garron is more troubled by the revelation that the Jedi hunter is none other than Nevylinn's wayward sister. How long had Nevylinn known? Even after all this time and the lives lost, she had said nothing. And something nags at him in Mara's words – the hunter could be reborn to continue the fight. How was this continued resurrection even possible? Did this have something to do with the clone technology used to manufacture the Mara's out of Valerie Gellar's genetic material? He feels a large part of the picture is purposefully darkened which brings him back to the conversation he had with Gemma about the Jedi's motives. Are the Jedi just extremists with their own goals under the pretense of altruism and peace?

His mind wanders into an even darker place.

Could the Sith who abducted the children and Nevylinn's sister be one in the same?

Garron wonders how far down this hole goes.

At Valor Prep, Dahlia resumes her place as the end-all, be-all of popularity. Her foray into the world of politics, on the arm of the Imperial Ambassador no less, has caused considerable buzz. She decides to let Ples go in favor of the potential that Barrett represents. She is soaring high when word is sent through Georgie that Demaris attempted to contact Riley Patten on Corellia. Dahlia wasn't aware they had made each other's acquaintance but it does give a glimmer into how she had spent her days during her disappearance last summer. She considers if Gemma knows Demaris is gabbing away with Riley behind her back. There isn't much information on what was said but it appears brief. Georgie isn't exactly one for gossip, something about oaths and Voss-Ra ritual she doesn't understand and hardly cares about. The point is that Demaris is more complicated than she appears. Is she merely a fragile and emotionally damaged heiress or a spy consulting with the Jedi?

Given the ending Reef Stratford met in her elder sisters group, Dahlia knows what happens to spies.

This is why she accepts the invitation to a party at the Atrii mansion the following Saturday evening. It's not like she needs a reason to attend but a social event is just the thing to blow off some steam after the rigorous educational process. The party is an exclusive event but not restricted to just their immediate crew. All the most popular and attractive people are obviously invited as well as a few others crucial to a parties success.

One of these is Tobias Harkan, the chief supplier of all things illicit. Trichelle is furious but easily calmed with a few glasses of champagne provided by Kier. Alka and Dane brood and make out against the far wall of the drawing room. Although they haven't officially addressed their relationship status, something Alka finds tawdy and mainstream, they are most definitely a serious item. The lack of title bothers Dane more than he'd like but her father is already uneasy with their social proximity and an official announcement might push him over the edge.

Downtempo beats set a mellow tone as some dance in the living room while others find their way to the incredibly stocked bar. Gemma bumps into Demaris coming down the stairs.

"Have you seen Preston?"

"I saw him and Roman head upstairs."

"Of course."

"Of course what?"

"Nothing, thank you for hosting. It's a lovely party."

"My pleasure," she says. "Might as well make good use of all this space. How was your trip?"

"My trip?"

"To Corelia."

"It was…fine. Good. Everything went well."

"You sure? You seem kind of tense."

Gemma laughs, "It's been a long week. Back to the old grind."

"Right, the grind. You know you can talk to me, right?"

"I can't…I mean, I know. Where's the restroom?"

She points and Gemma scurries off.

Upstairs in Demaris' bedroom, Trichelle is pacing in front of the bed where Muriel and Dahlia are draped across.

"So, spill. What's the deal with the Imperial?"

Dahlia rolls her eyes, "You make sound so lurid. I was just showing him around, making things less awkward. You know, giving back."

"To what?" Muriel says skeptically. "The community?"

Trichelle giggles, taking a sip from her flute.

"Kind of, yeah! Barrett is a total project, completely incapable of sustaining a meaningful conversation outside negotiating terms. It's kind of sad actually."

"Well, not everyone can be as linguistically gifted as we are."

"Which is strange considering he went to the Tarkin Academy on Byss. That place is, like, the Valor Prep of the Empire. That is, until they yanked him out as a transfer to Carida."

"Why?"

"I guess he wasn't fitting in, no surprises there. It's like he's intentionally bent on not having friends."

"Clearly he's disturbed."

"He spends most of his time with Emperor Schrag and that guy is a serious downer. People were so freaked out at the show that they wouldn't even sit next to him. One of the models even passed out from nerves. Crazy."

"I'm surprised the Emperor even came."

"I don't think it was a willing choice. They both looked so bored."

"Then you met Barrett at the after-party?"

"Yes, also looking bored and out of place. I thought I could help."

Muriel lights joint, "Such a humanitarian."

"I do my part," Dahlia says faux-coyly, taking a hit.

Trichelle frowns, "Since when do you partake?"

"It's a party, Trich. I'm indulging."

"Whatever, tell me you didn't get that from Tobias."

"You are so judgmental."

"Excuse me for caring about the fact that he almost killed our friend!"

"Hello," Muriel says. "I'm right here and I think you need to find another cause because I am fine. Tobias is not the enemy."

"He's a drug-dealer."

"That is such a D'ian thing to say. How many pills did you take today?"

"So not the point."

Dahlia sits up.

"Pills? Now I'm curious."

Trichelle sighs, "It's for stress."

"Capra is a painkiller," Muriel says. "So let's not point fingers, shall we? Just because you stole it from your mother who was prescribed it by a doctor doesn't make it more socially acceptable."

"I'm pretty sure it does but fine, we'll drop it. What happened with Barrett?

"Nothing happened with Barrett. It was nothing."

"What was?"

"He kissed me. At the museum."

"And?

"How was it?"

"Really hot," Dahlia says, putting a pillow over her face and falling back onto the bed. Trichelle and Muriel scream and squeal while Dane and Alka walk down the hall hanging off each other. Further down, Preston steps out of a room.

"Hey, Preston!"

He jumps, startled and turns around to wave.
 
Roman comes out a moment later.

Alka smiles but Dane is confused.

"Roman, hey. What are you guys up to?"

"Just, you know, exploring…"

"…exploring, yes. This house is massive."

"Is your shirt on inside out?"

Roman glances down.

Alka mercifully interjects.

"Gemma is looking for you downstairs, Preston."

"Cool, thanks," he says, moving past them.

Roman nods, "That reminds me, seen Ples and Kier around?"

"By the bar."

"Naturally, later guys."

Dane turns to face Alka.

"That was weird."

"You are weird," she says seductively. "Now are you going to dwell on them or ravish me?"

He smirks, lifting her up and staggering back into a bedroom.

The bar is loud with Kier taking shots and shouting while Ples shakes his head and nurses a bottle of ale. Preston wanders in looking for Gemma when Demaris realizes she hasn't seen her in a while and heads back into the foyer and toward the guest bathroom. She raps on the door.

"Gemma?"

"Yeah."

Demaris comes in to find Gemma lying in the large empty tub. She sets a glass of water on the tiled edge.

"Thought you might be thirsty."

"Thanks."

Demaris sits, staring down at Gemma twisting a blonde curl around her finger.

"Look, something is very clearly wrong and even though you feel you can't talk to me about it…I just wanted to let you know that I am here. In case you do."

Gemma glances up, struggling to get the images of the Sith woman bearing down on her with the saber out of her head, and places a hand on Demaris' hand. They sit there, together, in the silent bathroom as the party rages on outside the door, pulsing with the intensifying music as the shot slowly pulls away.



-TBC

[Syren]

Corporate Sector

D'ian: Surface

Gemma maintains a good front but beneath the surface she is still grappling with the realities of the dangers they face. She continues to put in the work to train and meditate but her skills were no match for the Sith woman. She was easily bested and it had almost cost her life.

The fact that Riley is so entangled in this dilemma only furthers her worry. The Jedi are on the run again in a galaxy whose tolerance grows ever-smaller. It's not right to be shunned, feared and hated for who they are, especially within an institution as progressive as the Republic. Even after Apteen, the slide toward more conservative agenda's has nearly transformed the government into something antiseptic and sterile. She had watched it happen on the Holo, played out over the course of the past year.

The truce with the Empire falls in line with the new Speaker's pragmatic yet mysterious leadership. Leeds appears to be a solid, no-nonsense kind of man but there is an underlying rigidness to his addresses to the Senate. If this truce holds, she wonders how much the current landscape would change. The Empire has no love for the Jedi either and their paranoia about otherworldly aspects could leak into the ongoing discussion about the F.U.R.A. 

She considers her own feelings for the Jedi, troubled.

The origin of her speculation is much closer to home.

Dahlia had filled Dane's head with all sorts of stories about the Jedi and the Sith. Since Dane and Gemma share a religion and mythology class, it gave him a platform to rattle her beliefs. He did so vocally in class, challenging her and others that these opposing forces do little more than manipulate their pupils in their own favor.

They are all pawns to be used.

Dahlia knew Gemma would over-analyze everything he said and it would throw her into a state of introspection and doubt. If she is going to dabble, she thinks it best if Gemma confronts some hard truths before she follows Melanie down the self-righteous skyway. A bit of doubt can cause any Force Sensitive to sway.

Gemma leans against the wall in the junior-senior corridor and sighs.

"Credit for your thoughts?"

Tobias Harkan slinks out from around the corner.

"Hi Tobi, long day."

"I'll say, what with the double-life and all."

She frowns, "What?"

"A scholar and a singing superstar," he laughs. "That's a lot of pressure."

"Tell me about it."

"Everyone needs to slow down once in a while."

"I would but there's, like, this trajectory…always moving forward into the unknown without a real unobstructed purpose. You know?"

Tobias arches both brows.

"That's dark, G. You got darkness."

"I'm postulating," she says. "Can't a girl postulate? I thought people said you were deep."

"They say that?"

Gemma makes a face, "Among other things."

"It sounds like you need to mellow, take a break from all those thoughts."

"Really?"

"Yes, and I've got just the thing."

He pats his backpack and smiles a little too deviously.

"Thanks but I prefer to use my own resources to figure things out."

"I respect that," he says, moving away. "But if you change your mind…"

She waves him off as Demaris stops beside her.

"Was he bothering you?"

"No but I'm pretty sure he just offered me drugs."

"He's such a menace."

"How does he manage it?" Gemma says, pulling away from the wall to fall into step with Demaris. "I mean, they've got to know he's holding. They could bust him at any time."

"They could but then how would most of the administration staff maintain such a calm demeanor?"

"Get out."

"That's what I hear. The admin and quite a few parents too."

"What a scandal."

"More like a scandalabra. One scandal attached to many others. Anyway, let them have their chemical cloud. It gives us more time and less oversight to do what we wish."

Demaris has actually been a great source of strength since the night of the party. Her presence eased something in her which is nice, especially since Alka is deep in the sex haze with Dane and Preston is sneaking around with Roman. They are at that age when boys and girls fall victim to their hormones and she isn't immune. Gemma wants to be closer to Riley and loves the feeling her heart gets when his hand is in hers.

"Hello?! Still with me?"

Gemma giggles, "Yeah, just thinking about something."

"Or someone."

They laugh, veering across campus.

"Where are we going?"

"The quad," Demaris sighs dramatically. "Apparently, we're supposed to meet this new guy that Trichelle got her social claws in almost immediately after he stepped foot on school grounds."

"Why?"

"He's sort of big deal, I guess, another adorable and worldly heir to whatever. His uncle is in textiles or something in the Sector who insisted he matriculate with the spoiled morons of Valor Prep."

Gemma grins, "Lucky him."

Trichelle and Kier are sitting on the duracrete risers in front of the performance art building as they approach. Ples, Roman and Alka arrive a moment before Demaris and Gemma. Dahlia and Muriel swing by just as Ples, Dane and Preston walk up. There is a lot of chatter but soon introductions are going around before circling back to the tall, dark and handsome.

"Nice to meet you guys," he says with a sly smile. "I'm Quentin Swire."



-TBC