CC: Corellian Birthright

[Syren]

“You’ll see, it’s a matter of time
Can’t keep on ignoring what’s in you
Runs deeper the harder you try
Might as well just surrender, you want to.”

-Biig Piig

Corellia

Surface: Coronet City

The warning lands as intended.

There had always been a dire quality to her demeanor, one that took him some time to understand. In their time together and apart, he has grappled with what it means to be a Patten. Her revelation had not deterred his love for her or diminished the great lengths she had gone to protect him. Instead of protesting, he moves forward and embraces her. He was once a boy, someone who fits neatly into her arms, now a man whose arms encircle the whole of her. 

Riley takes a step back and directs them to the chairs nearby where they sit beside each other, her hands in his.

“Aunt Mara,” he begins with a smile. “Thank you for always putting my safety first even if it seems as though I do not appreciate or deserve it. I would not be here without you. I want you to know that I do not believe this life is guaranteed or that, through these plans, I would squander it so casually. The contingency is just that – a contingency. In case of emergency. In case we fail to stop Adubell or the Voss-Ra. I know what she is, what they are, and that this has been in motion far longer than any of us.”

He looks away briefly but returns his gaze to the grave expression on her face.

“I also know that in the prophecy there are loopholes. I am one of them. The reason the cycle began again. The reason so many have died in the name of that prophecy as others have again used it to their advantage and agenda. As much as I do not want this to be the case – as much as I want us to survive – we must plan for any outcome. Even you cannot know what will happen and we cannot assume anything. In some ways, I think we are more alike than we may have realized. You wish to spare me these horrors and I want nothing more than to end it so that no one else has to suffer as we have.”

He takes a breath, widening his smile on the exhale.

“That has not come without reflection. Taking stock of what I have and want. Funny you should mention humanity and what it means to be alive. That is something I’ve been thinking about a lot lately. What it comes down to, at least for me, is honor, integrity, respect, and love.
Whatever happens in this life, I know that I do not want to experience it alone…which is why I asked Gemma to marry me and she accepted my proposal.”

He feels her hands tighten in his. Even though he has all the credits in the worlds, there is no time for such a spectacle. The grand wedding of their dreams. There may be greater dangers to face together but he and Gemma would declare their love for one another in front of those closest to them, at least the ones who could reasonably do so. He laughs, in spite of everything, because his heart is full. He has Mara, Gemma, his friends, his mentor, his duty, and, for the moment at least, his life.

There is so much to be grateful for.

“Nothing extravagant. We were thinking of something small, tasteful, in the gardens of the Patten Ranch. I would very much love for you to be a part of that, Aunt Mara. Celebrate our humanity and the love that comes with it. What do you say?”







-TBC

[Medivh]

Corellia

Surface: Coronet City

"…which is why I asked Gemma to marry me and she accepted my proposal.”

THAT was not the direction Mara anticipated this conversation going, and part of her wanted to scold him for being such a romantic when she was busy scolding him for not being careful.
He really is such a Patten ...

Her fingers tensed briefly before relaxing.  The truth was, the announcement was not unexpected, even if the timing was.  He had seen the two of them together, and though there was a tension that Mara and Gemma had, she also had spent a lot of time with Gemma, especially as Gemma was healing, and as the Mara, Gemma, and Nevylinn had been training together.  Gemma was more strong-willed and stubborn than Riley was, but the two of them together made sense, and their love for each other was apparent and genuine

“What do you say?”

Mara sighed softly, then smiled.

"You cannot get married ..."  She felt Riley's fingers tighten as she shook her head. "No, let me finish.  You cannot get married until I get back.  I have a mission with Senator Soldys that I need to handle.  But you cannot get married until I get back.  I need to be there when it happens. I need to see you and Gemma be married."

Mara brought her hand up to Riley's cheek, looking into his face.  He had grown so much.  From the infant, crying in her arms, to the boy in need of rescue, to the man before her.  How could he have grown up, so much, and so fast?
"Gemma and I have our differences, but I think she is perfect for you.  And I would not only love, but insist on being part of that celebration"

She reached over and wrapped her arms around him, much like he had hugged her just a few minutes earlier.  She could not really articulate the happiness she was feeling right now.  It was immense, over-flowing, among the strongest emotions she really had ever experienced.  Just knowing she had a small part in bringing this boy to this point in his life.

And knowing that her own fate, her own destiny, was moving steadily and seemingly faster to its end.  She would live long enough to see Riley married, and with that, be content that sacrificing her lifewould allow him to continue his.

-TBC

[Syren]

“Looking deep into my eyes
Could you face the truth?
I know I’ve tried
I’m burning from the inside
And that’s why.”

-San Cisco

Corellia

Surface: Coronet City

To hear that she believes Gemma is right for him and insists on being a part of their union fills him with a kind of happiness he thought he might never find. The Four are not destined for happy endings, and that very well may still be the case, so he will take these moments and feelings when he can.

Riley’s smile widens, “Of course, Aunt Mara. Of course, we will wait for you! I couldn’t imagine not sharing this with you.”

As if on cue, the High Commander appears in the corridor, flanked by Sixta and Cassidy. No sign of Inspector Thekla which is only slightly worrisome. Soldys surveys the scene and Riley catches the crease of suspicion at the corner of his eyes as they land on him. No doubt he is still sour over their contingency pitch. He saw firsthand what a sentient droid with a mission could do although Riley is quite certain that is not the avenue through which Dane’s considerable corporate resources meant to circumvent the prophecy. At least he’s mostly sure. Frowning slightly, Riley makes a mental note to verify that – to assuage his own curiosity but hopefully the High Commander's fears.

“Well then,” he says, acknowledging the others as they approach. “I know you both have some work to do.”

Soldys nods curtly, eyes shifting to Mara.

“If there is anything we can do here to support you, we are at your service."







-TBC

[Medivh]

https://swsfonline.com/index.php?topic=787.msg19330#msg19330
Post from December 17, 2020:
"As the VCX auxiliary fighter slipped out of hyperspace, Artemis was shocked to see not only that the gravity well net location had been moved.  it was accompanied by what amounted to a fleet. Republic vessels. And almost twice as many imperial ships, including an interdictor cruiser.
"They let the imperials bring one of those into Republic territory?"
"Half the fleet is made up of imperial ships now.  And it's been increasing ever since you were detained.  Quietly, of course, sir, but needless to say, with you out of the way in the senate, others were taking full advantage."
Their comm suddenly lit up, and they could see a mix of X-wings and TIE fighters approaching from the fleet's location.
 ...
There were too many fighters, enemy ships.  The distraction was appreciated but ... so many would die just for him?
"They know what they are doing sir.  We need you, alive, free, and on Corellia.  Corellia needs you to prepare for what's coming"
A moment later, Artemis was watching as one of the 'calvary' exploded, just before their vessel again dipped into hyperspace.

Corellia


Surface: Coronet City

“If there is anything we can do here to support you, we are at your service."

Mara shook her head

"Just try not to get into too much trouble, at least until I get back"
The wry grin on her face said all the words she'd left out, all the feelings, all the worry, all the excitement.  She'd only be gone for a little while, really.

What could possibly happen?
=============================================

2 days later ...

BORDER DEEP SPACE BETWEEN REPUBLIC and CORRELIAN SECTOR

The ships of the Republic and Imperial combined fleet had grown since Artemis made his escape from here, however many months/years had passed since then.  The Corellian scout ships had made the prudent decision to slow-walk to the border region, not only to avoid getting trapped into those gravity-well nets, but to avoid being detected altogether.

That was crucial for the mission to succeed.
The distraction had to be meaningful - Enough Corellian ships to hold their own; not enough to trigger all out war.
And for the Corellians to make it meaningful, they had to play their trump card.  It was something that was sure to cascade into even more chaos and enmity.  Mara had asked Artemis if it was worth it.

Artemis still wasn't sure.  This encounter might be enough to push the Republic over the edge it was already so close to.  And in return, Corellia would get some protection ...
But it was finally decided, they would go forward.

The scout ships hovered at the outskirts of the territory, taking in passive scans of the ships.  The imperial interdictor was the most formidable looking vessel present, but there were also a handful of Republic cruisers and Victory Star Destroyers in the mix (the ships looked remarkably similar to each other).

"No large Mon-Cal vessels"
That the Mon-Calimari senator had been arrested was enough for their shipyards to pull any support they had for Speaker Leeds and his military efforts.  The only Mon-Calimari cruisers present were smaller, and much older. Pre-purchased.

"Partially to be expected.  Final scans coming in."

A black screen with green-highlights began marking off the locations of the republic and imperial ships, swarms of them, as well as the location of each of the gravity well nets in the area, a string of them, like polka-dots across the expanse of space.

"Locking in target locations and transmitting to the fleet"

A red light began to flash.

"We've been detected"

As if to confirm the suspicion, they could see an imperial frigate rotate and begin moving toward their location, flanked by a half dozen TIE-fighters that were starting to pick up speed.

The comm chimed, and soon they heard the voice over the speaker.

"This is Border Patrol.  Identify yourself."

The Corellian scout turned to his colleague before pressing the button.
"Meesa so sowwy!  Meesa no understand"

The frigate was moving closer.
"I repeat, identify yourself"

The pilot grinned, placing headphones over his ears.
"THis is Corellian Scout Vessel Feedback"

"Feedback, prepare to power down and -"
The rest of the captain's words were drowned out as the Corellian pilot pressed a button, a loud screeching noise over the intercomm.
"Get it? Feedback?"
The captain on the other end was cursing, but now, they got the attention of a few more ships that were starting to move into position - including the interdictor.

"Alright, that did it.  Send coordinates to the fleet, and power up the engines"

The Corellian scout ship's engines roared to life, and the vessel began circling around, preparing to make an exit.  Green laser fire flew overhead as TIE fighters got closer.

"Confirmation. The fleet received the intel."

"Good, so calvary is coming in, in ... 10 ... 9 ... 8..."

A loud book as laser cannon fire struck the back of the scout ship.

"Deflectors down to 60%"
"Transfer auxiliary power to the engines"
"3 ... 2 ... 1..."

Blasting out of hyperspace, nearly 50 Corellian ships of varying sizes appeared, including at least one Executive-class ship, over 1500 meters long.

The broadcast message that came from the ship was sent out on all frequencies, just to make sure nobody missed it.

"This is High Commander Artemis Soldys of the Corellian Sector Defense Force.  We are hereby enforcing our sovereignty, under both the Republic charter and the intergalactic laws of governance.  We demand all non-Corellian vessels leave the system at once"

Artemis tapped the comm off, turning to the commander on his right with a grim smile.

"This is where the fun begins."

[Medivh]

Corellia

The Republic (and Imperial) vessels halted their progress as the Corellian fleet came into view.  this wasn't just one scout ship. It was an armada.  The TIEs that had been closing in circled back to form a defensive perimeter around their own capital ships.

It was actually several minutes before they could be seen reforming thier line, preparing themselves for a battle as opposed to patrol duty.

"They weren't ready for us to show up"
It was the commander next to Artemis who spoke as Artemis was staring out the viewport, lips pursed as he looked across at the opponent.  They weren't the enemy, at least, not yet. At least, he hoped not.  But for this maneuver, opponent would suffice.

Opponent, even though this skirmish could very well lead to the deaths of forces on both sides.

"We certainly hope not.  Begin pressing our ships forward - slowly - and keep an eye on our flanks. We will be entering the gravity wells of those nets, and won't be able to escape quickly if the Republic manages to have reinforcements close by."

Even as they maneuvered forward, the Republic ships were slowly responding.  The slowness told Artemis much about what was happening.  The border patrol unit here, while substantial in size, was never intended for a large battle, and they were not led by a commander skilled in this kind of combat.
The assumption was that as soon as the Corellian fleet appeared, they sent out a signal to Chandaar, both alerting them of the situation and asking for orders.  Their delay was probably about receiving those orders, and how to carry them out.

Artemis' eyes shot up to a counter-clock above the viewport.  8 hours, counting down.  It was almost a two-day hyperspace trip to Chandaar, even along the most favorable route.  But the Republic had a fleet that was about eight hours away, located at the planet Tanaab. A quick bump on the Perlemian Trade Route, then south on the Hydian Way to get to the Corellian Sector.  Artemis was betting that was their rapid-response.  The imperials also had worlds, much closer, but Artemis was counting on, first, those worlds being in the Deep Core, where hyperspace travel was more treacherous, and therefore slower.  And second, that the imperials wouldn't stick their neck out in a first-salvo like this, by reinforcements.  If they did ... that eight hours could be as little as 4.

Timing was everything.

"We've reached the perimeter of the first gravity well, sir"
"Launch the Y-Wing fighters"
"Yes sir"

From the larger corellian carriers, dozens of Y-Wings emerged, quickly moving to attack speeds and heading toward the nearest republic vessels.  Blue energy jutted out as they let out salvo after salvo of ion-cannon fire.  They were followed by X-Wings, with standard laser fire, eating into the shields of the republic vessels, whose weapons were already moving sluggishly before ion fire made it worse.  The Republic was responding by sending out more fighters, hoping that larger numbers would help in their counter-attack.

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

Far from the battle, a dozen heavily-modified auxiliary ships were watching from the viewport as blue, red, and green lights splashed like twinkles in the distance.
Mara was sitting in the pilot seat of the lead vessel, eyes flicking between the battle and a red-light indicator on her dashboard.
When it ignited, she pressed down on the comm.

"We are go. Remember the plan.  Full speed until 5-klicks out from the gravity well."

each auxiliary vessel began powering their engines, moving forward, slowly at first.  They didn't make a straight line ahead, instead, each beginning to form large circles, picking up speed as they did.  It wasn't until each vessel was at its maximum speed that the vessels straightened out, making a bee-line toward the battle.

"Each team, line up your coordinates.  We each have our own target, but we won't be able to adjust our trajectories once we are in the combat zone.  We've got one good shot at this."

A few acknowledgements and Mara was checking her instruments.

It was only a few minutes later when she sent out another message.
"This is Surge 1. We are entering the combat zone. Going dark."

With a final check to ensure the ship's flaps were closed down, Mara shut down the engines of her ship, letting the inertia of the high speed send her forward into the battle zone.
"Lights out."
Her voice was now a whisper, and the lookout next to her nodded, shutting down more systems on the ship.
"Ready for inertial dampeners to be reactivated"

Around them, republic, imperial, and corellian ships twirled and spun and fired, but her auxiliary craft, with no power signature, looked like debris floating by, and was ignored.

Ahead of them, the gravity well net was visible and steadily filling up the screen.
"Get ready to activate dampeners on my mark ...
3 ...
2 ...
1 ...
mark"

Just as the ship was about to crash into the small platform, the inertial dampeners kicked in, using reverse-impulse engines to slow their approach.
"Magnetic clamp in 3 ... 2 ... 1 .... mark"
With a soft clang, their ship stopped moving, held against the platform on its side.

"Status?"
"We appear to be undetected, maam."
"Good  run a passive scan for the external power linkup.  Get everyone suited up."
"Yes maam"

TBC

[Syren]

“Maybe it’s perfect
Maybe I lack control
Coz you’re still the coin in the air
And I don’t know where it leaves me
Heads or tails
Wings or sails.”

Eli & Fur

Corellia

Far from the exercise, the faux-Agent Cale Theon keeps a steady system patrol aboard the Asunder.

The High Commander felt it best to keep Jedi out of the fray, something Donovan agreed was best. They had enough problems and handing them two living violations of their insipid laws would not be one of them. Not today, at least.

Gemma’s call took him by surprise. The loss of life was tragic and he is grateful his sister is not among the victims. The presence of a traitor raises more uncomfortable questions and reveals the depths of their situation with Gemma's controversial take on it. Prophecy as a stage play, a rotating cast across generations with characters that seldom escape their run. There are rare exceptions but there is no denying that those orchestrating horror behind the scenes take great care to close the loop when they can. Rutherford Gellar and Celeste Masterton are evidence enough of that.

For those caught in the prophecy’s glittering web, it is always a matter of time.

He turns his attention to more pressing matters. While Demaris may be in the Corporate Sector with a few potential suspects, Donovan finds himself on a ship with one. Gemma made it clear the Force-sensitive refugees may not be who they claim to be. It is a convenient position, possibly meant to exploit their assistance by ingratiating themselves and lulling them into lowering their guard.

Sirona has kept to herself since the desecration of Centerpoint Station. He left her meditating not long ago and would like to imagine that is what she continues to do. She has not made a move against them with plenty of opportunity to do so. She even had a chance to strike a more damaging blow to their efforts when the High Commander joined them. Sirona is the one who brought him from the surface. Donovan was nothing compared to a strategic target like Artemis Soldys. She could have taken that shuttle down before they ever reached his cruiser, or crashed the shuttle into the Asunder killing them all.

A tactical victory that would have robbed Corellia of further hope to combat the imminent Republic threat.

That is not a phrase he ever thought he’d think. The Republic, a galactic enemy. He never cared much for politics in his old life, much too busy with the salacious duties of a Corporate Sector heir. It never touched him, all those happenings outside their opulent little world. Such privilege, the luxury of being an Atrii. To not care simply because it did not personally inconvenience him in any way. Let others suffer so long as he did not have to deal with it. That seems like such a very long time ago. The Jedi set him on the straight and narrow. Something else he is grateful for. They are not perfect, nor is he, but their ways allow him a chance at real purpose. A path to absolution. Yet, his mind drifts to other things.

Circe.

It turns out path and purpose come at a price. Feelings that are felt and acknowledged but must not be acted on. It helps that they are both playing other people since the galaxy believes them long dead. Lives lost in the early days of the Republic’s swift and spectacular downward spiral. For many it made it real. If they could kill someone like Circe Prescott, in principle, as a symbol of dissent in a democratic society, then they could do the same to anyone else - and they did. There are the true believers out there bent on ensuring this all goes south and, so far, they are making great work of it. Threats near and far.

Near being his primary concern.

Donovan rises from the chair and retrieves his saber, stashed away to complete the CorSec ruse but always nearby. He clips it to his belt and steps into the corridor. It is quiet, as the cruiser tends to be in their patrol of solitude and reflection most days, but now that silence is laced with suspicion.

Do other enemies masked as allies walk among them?

He is relieved to find her exactly where he left her, meditating in the galley with her back turned to him. He approaches slowly, rapping on the archway with a knuckle to signal his presence although he knows she already senses him. Her body stiffens.

“I have news. Not good, I’m afraid.”

She lowers her head, “Tell me.”

“We’ve lost Oz and Lysette,” he says, choosing his words carefully. “It seems Lysette was not on our side after all.”

“And now you have come to see if I am?”

“I would like to know where you stand, Sirona. You have been through a lot and it would be understandable if your feelings are…complex. Nothing we’ve experienced has been what anyone would consider normal but know that I am here to check in and support you.”

“I will be fine."

“I am pleased to hear it but not certain I believe you.”

“You do not know what I felt when what was left of that station imploded. The things I heard. Madness. It was pure madness.”

He eases further into the space, curious.

“Madness?”

“The spirits of those trapped within, no way out, so much fear, confusion – they did not know it would end that way. In an instant, so many lives cut short. Everyone’s last thoughts bombarding me, invading my mind, and then…then there was her. They told me she was waiting there.”

“Who? The one who attacked the Republic?”

“A voice clearer than the others, cutting through the noise. She spoke directly to me.”

Donovan is so close to her now. Was this who she referenced before? The one who had come to let the darkness out? Perhaps she had…in ways they had not considered. He moves closer still.

“What did this person tell you?”

In a single fluid movement, Sirona rises and ignites her saber, twisting around with a controlled strike. Donovan jerks backward reflexively, hand finding his weapon just as her blade clashes with his in a sickening hiss. Her eyes have a green glint to them that he has not seen before, expression determined but faltering.

“She told me to turn on you,” Sirona says evenly, advancing on him. “To prevent you from trying to take what is rightfully hers.”

“Sirona, stop this! This is not you!”

“None of them deserved it. Not one worthy enough to claim victory. We are but mere mortals, and she a goddess. Soon…she will reign.”

Donovan pulls back and flicks his wrist to create some distance between them. She rights herself quickly and attacks. He engages her defensively as their sabers clash.

“Fight this, Sirona!”

“She is still in my head…whispering…willing me…”

“No, she does not control you-”

“That is where you are wrong. She controls all of us.”

He parries and steps back, assessing the tremors of expression flickering across her face. She may be fighting but she is losing. He had only heard rumors of such possession, the Sith inflicting their will upon others, but he had never seen it manifested. She may not have been sent as a sleeper in the same way Lysette evidently had been but she arrived here vulnerable, her defenses down, and within the psychic attack left open the opportunity to strike. Donovan must disarm her before she hurts anyone.

“Sirona, listen to me. Hear me. You are safe here with us. We will protect you!”

She attacks again, this time more aggressively, but he is careful to deflect and keep her at a distance as he tries to reach her. What he does not know, what he does not yet understand, is the piece of an artifact this dark visitor had come to collect from Centerpoint and the power it holds. Adubell’s words, imbued with the essence of the Etheralis, coil deep within her mind – she no longer has control.

“The Jedi can’t protect anyone,” she laughs coldly, voice octaves lower than it had been only moments ago. “Not even themselves.”

The glint in her eyes flares a brilliant hue. He gasps, hesitating for the briefest moments but it is enough of an opening. Donovan feels the sear of saber upon flesh, into his forearm, down across his thigh, and he stumbles back. The Twi’lek comes at him hard now, swinging more wildly, sparks from contact with the walls showering across the narrower corridor he’s been forced back into. He brings his blade down against hers, both sparking against the floor as she whips a headtail against his face. Flinching, he throws himself forward, slamming her against the wall, their sabers tangled dangerously beneath them. She shoves him back and he staggers then spins to the right into a crouch, feeling the heat of her blade as it passes over him, and thrusts his hand outward to send a concussive Force blast that sends her tumbling back into the open space of the galley.

Donovan sags against the wall. His leg is screaming, realizing now it may be deeper than he thought, but manages to drag himself to where she lies still. He holds his saber out, not yet raised. He believes there is still a chance they could save her. He is not going to give up on her now-

She springs upright at an almost unnatural angle, gripping his throat and hauling him forcefully back across the room. Sirona almost seems to float as his legs scrape helplessly across the floor. They crash into the far wall with enough force to smash his head against it. Colorful spots explode in front of his eyes and her saber tip pierces his shoulder. Crying out, vision clearing, he watches the fury drain from her face.

His glowing saber is lodged through her chest, casting shadows on her features from behind. The glow dims but remains present in her eyes. Donovan deactivates his weapon. Hers drops to the floor and snaps off. Grabbing ahold of her as her knees buckle, he cries out again.

“No, no, no….Sirona, no…you were safe here…”

“No one is safe,” she sputters, weakly. “Not from this. From her.”

She sinks to the floor in his arms and a small, nearly guttural laugh escapes her lips. She raises her eyes to his as she begins to fade from this life.

“Really, Jedi. Do you think your sister is safe…with one of them?”









-TBC

[Syren]

“But there’s no need to worry
Confusion has its own embrace
Your mind needs to worry
Your heart loves a race.”

-Folk Implosion

Corellia

Surface: Coronet

Riley Patten promised he would stay out of trouble.

Since Mara departed, this had worked well. Inspector Thekla backed off, apparently swayed by whatever information she and the High Commander shared. In turn, Riley was given a wide berth and returned to regularly scheduled duties. Veritaas was reinstated – ensuring that Project Succellus, and the latitude it brought to address their situation with the prophecy remained intact. Soldys needs people he can trust in the right places, despite any missteps in the past. He took accountability and assured the High Commander his judgment would not be compromised in the name of secrecy again. For his part, Riley jumped back into patrols with Cassidy and Sixta, something he thoroughly enjoyed. 

Even as the specter of the Republic loomed over them, he took comfort in keeping the streets of Coronet safe.

In the evenings, he spent time catching up with Gemma. They may not be able to be together physically but grew even closer through their support of one another. Admittedly, the physical distance was starting to become intolerable, the need to touch and kiss her sometimes overwhelming. Soon, he told himself. Gemma was deep in training with Nevylinn at the moment, and their fractured relationship found a middle ground in honing their respective skills as Aunt Mara worked with High Commander Soldys. She confessed it was difficult to engage the Jedi otherwise since so much of her trust in them had collapsed completely. She knew they meant well but those intentions were constricted by rules that always seemed to wind up in some self-sabotaging fiasco: e.g., anything they had ever done. There are no apologies for her cynicism and he doesn't expect it.

She was not trained as a child, only ever on the periphery of their teachings through her mother’s recollection of the knowledge the Jedi who delivered her and the infant Dahlia to Rutherford Gellar imparted to her. This was not typically their way yet, as she sarcastically intoned, none of the refugees or some of the newer members were trained as children – they only found their way to the Jedi at different times and through very different circumstances. The point of contention, once so stridently enforced in the past, seemed now to be overlooked given their dwindling numbers. Gemma knows not everything they believe is rubbish but the galaxy and their role in it most certainly do not align with their ideals and assessment of the matter. 

They must take things into their own hands - agency above all else.

Their conversation inevitably wanders toward their pending nuptials. Things to do before they die. Regarding lists, declaring your love for someone is pretty high up there. Gemma agrees the gardens at the Patten Ranch would be perfect – a place they know both his mother and her sister held a fondness for. It would be a way to celebrate their love while honoring those who came before. Their path, contingency or not, may not be what they would have chosen but neither Kimber nor Melanie knew what they knew. Riley wonders if discovering the loop and the Voss-Ra’s hand in it would have changed how they approached their situations and, darkly, if it could have saved any of them. Would his mother have made it off Centerpoint had she known? Would she have even been there in the first place?

These are not questions that ever lead to satisfactory answers. No way to change the past.
 
They must only focus on the precarious present and potentially ominous future, ready to give up their own lives to fulfill the prophecy and return to counter the galactic threat of the Sith.

As Mara, unbeknownst to him, is ready to execute her mission within the display of the High Commander's boundary-pushing exercise, Riley swings by the People’s Council offices to deliver CorSec resources for new arrivals to stay safe in the capital. He makes a point to check in with Della to see if there is anything she needs - the organizations work well together while serving the people on multiple fronts. Unfortunately, but not surprisingly, she is in a meeting but he runs into Circe, as Octavia Valles, in the corridor looking somewhat panicked.

“Hey, you okay?”

Her eyes land on him, focus, and she reaches for his arm.

“I got a most distressing call from Agent Theon. He mumbled something about an incident then cut out. I cannot seem to reach him now. Given, well, everything…I’m worried.”

Riley tilts his head toward the entrance, “Well, come on. I’ve got my shuttle right outside.”

“What if something happened? We can’t just go rushing in there.”

“Do you want to stand around or find out?”

Circe sucks in a breath, letting her assistant know an urgent matter has come up, and follows Riley out of the building.

Deep Space

They race to the Asunder with little conversation between them. She is fretting, mind spiraling in all sorts of dark places. Everyone has been a wreck lately as the emotional toll of the Republic’s threats takes shape among the populous. She has had little time to process what happened after they left the larger group on the ocean cliffs. Citizens from all walks of life sought their services, so many of them fearful of what may come while others remained hostile and defiant. Admittedly, a more Corellian attitude about the whole thing which led to conflicts between those in the crosshairs of the same danger. The cognitive dissonance alone was staggering. The Republic is an everyone problem and one already on their doorstep. Now something may have happened to Donovan and it fills her with a sickening dread.

Once they dock, Riley pulls his blaster and steps in front of her, “You ready?”

She nods.

He enters the consular vessel cautiously. Nothing seems amiss at first glance although filled with the same eerie silence as when he spent time here training years ago. A ghost ship drifting through the stars, safeguarding Jedi through the guise of official, albeit secretive, CorSec business. As they move further into the ship, to the spaces the droids seldom came lest they overhear the secrets they exchange, it becomes quickly obvious something went down. There is a lingering, almost chemical scent in the air that reveals itself when they turn down the corridor toward the converted training area. The dark scorch marks on the walls and paneled floors confirm the sinister feeling tingling the tops of their spines. They exchange a tense glance. Riley braces himself against the wall before swinging into the open space. His trained eyes scan for a target but see nothing moving, only a thin haze of smoke in the air, and then…

The aftermath.

Along the left wall, Sirona lies still on her back, head turned away. Donovan is facedown, closer to the corridor, comlink clutched in his hand, looking as though this was as far as he could drag himself. There are two sabers nearby, both closest to Sirona. In a word, Riley thinks, fuck.

“Circe!”

She appears in the doorway, registers the situation, and drops beside Donovan. Riley moves to check Sirona. She is already cool to the touch and he lowers his head. Circe stirs behind him.

“He’s still got a pulse,” she calls hopefully, using the wall console to call for a medical droid. “What about Sirona?”

“She’s gone.”

Circe stifles a sob, finding herself clutching Donovan’s hand.

“How could this have happened? So few people even know they are out here.”

“Stranger things have, uh, happened.”

“What if we are not alone? Whoever did this could still be onboard.”

“Can’t rule it out,” he says, keeping his blaster ready as he surveys the rest of the space. “Nothing else really here though. If someone boarded them, we would have seen evidence of a fight closer to the dock. An attack this far into the ship seems unlikely.”

Her face tightens, “You don’t think?”

“We don’t know. Let’s get him stabilized, check the rest of the Asunder, and see where things stand. I’ll notify Veritaas but no sense in calling reinforcements and risking exposure if we don’t need to. We’ll need discretion and hopefully a firsthand account. I know what it looks like but let’s try not to jump to any conclusions.”

She cradles her Jedi savior and murmurs distantly, “A bit late for that.”

Riley promised to stay out of trouble but - for a Patten - trouble always finds a way.






-TBC

[Medivh]

Corellia

The battle continued to range around the small platform, ignored intentionally by the Corellians, and by lack of knowledge by the Republic.  At least for the moment.  At some point, the Republic would figure out that something was up, probably as soon as that the artificial gravity wells that allowed for the controlled travel through this area were shut down.  Then they would send someone to investigate, and they would see those auxiliary craft docked ...

It was the High Commander's job to keep the Republic occupied and distracted while Mara did her work.
It was not going to be an easy task.  The nets were designed with counter-theft. A wrong move, and they would self-destruct.  They were also not built for boarding, almost the entirety of their size was devoted to the power source, electrical work, and of course, the gravity-well cone.  To make any headway, Mara had to essentially work on the system from the outside.

Everyone on her craft had donned airtight space suits, the oxygen in the docking-pod had been filtered out to elsewhere in the ship.  Mara too had put on a suit - afterall, most Corellians did not know what she was, and certainly many wouldn't trust a droid, especially one who looked like such a perfect replica of a human.  Her suit had a modified arm that would allow her to do her most critical work without raising the attention of her compatriots.

"Opening airlock in 3..2...1"
With a light hiss, the doorway opened, revealing the outer panel of the platform that they had docked against.  The gravity well net was still humming, and with the artificial gravity in the ship turned off, they could feel the pull toward it.  Mara had cautioned about possibly falling sideways, and her team was braced against the bulkheads.

The bolts on the side panel were loosened and the panel itself was removed, to reveal the power maintenance hatch. A long, thick hose was passed through the auxiliary craft and brought to the hatch where it was carefully attached to the input.

"Preparing for power-surge"

Mara glanced up from the hose that would deliver the disabling source of energy, up at the mechanical chronometer the hung over the airlock.  Again, timing was everything.  The plan was to disable every single gravity-well net at the same time.  They had worked quickly, ahead of schedule by enough seconds that Mara held up her hand for them to wait.

Click click click.  The chronometer hit its target and Mara lowered her hand.

"Go"

There was a rumble as the generator powered up, beginning to deliver the energy into the platform at their side.
"Increase the power to maximum.  We need to knock this thing out before it realizes what we are doing"
"Yes Maam"

The hum of the generator grew louder, Mara's eyes turning to the power maintenance hatch.  a solid red light would be good - meaning the system was overheating and shutting down.  A blinking red light?  That would mean the self-destruct was activated.

Mara watched intensely, waiting for the first sign of trouble.
"Maam, we are delivering at maximum capacity"

Then it lit up - the bright red light on the side of the hatch, along with a low, solid beep. And then a minute later, darkness, and silence.
"Confirm it's been deactivated"
There really was no need - as soon as the platform grew quiet, they could feel the gravity pull disappear, sending a few of them floating through the cabin.
Still, never too careful ... a quick readout showed the system was down.
"Alright.  Head back to the cockpit. Monitor comm chatter,and let me know if anything looks like a threat"
Mara took the place of the soldiers, unlocking the power hose and placing her gloved hand toward the socket.  A single finger extended, , the rubber exterior retracting to reveal a metallic plug, and she slipped it inside.

Almost instantly, she could feel the platform's coding, washing over her senses. It had gone into a kind of hibernation to protect it from the power surge, but there was enough underlying activity for it to respond to her biometric coding.

Her consciousness slipped through the dense language, finding the passwords and rewriting them, as only a programmer, no, as only a machine could.

It made her introspective.
SHe had spent so much of her existence trying not to be a machine, and yet here she was, once again, acting as little more than a computer.
Not that it really mattered.  She knew she had little time left. And her last act would likely be both her most computerized, and her most human at the same time.


TBC