The gunmetal and grim giants of buildings, industrial magnificence marching street to street with the perfection only a complete and total dictatorship could compel, were trussed up with small decorations like the nest of a shrike spearing its kills on curious thorns. Lights guideposted acceptable and planned paths that lead to participating shops and activities. The Dark Ascent, being so dismal and dark, would not play host to something so pedestrian and foreign. But a perfectly cozy, military bunker-turned-temporary hotel and conference center was available and spilling entertainment and simpering attachés of all kinds.
Disgusting, they thought, grinding needle-like, viperous teeth over the thought that, at the moment, she might as well be one of those aide-de-fools herself.
“If you try to put a badge on me,” hissed the cyanotic-pale Shani, crowned in a diadem of bright feathers, golden eyes narrowed, “I will leave your putrid fingerprints all over the body.”
Beside them, far too close, was a wretched waif of a woman with one golden, skeletal cybernetic arm and chaff hair straight and falling as boringly as her expression.
<@371402534973341696>
So as it turned out, Kalens next assignment was hopefully going to be less combat oriented, and would likely draw on more of what his aunt has taught him in the Consular tradition. He had been to 2 briefings on his next job, 1 at the Citadel on Cilix with several of the Hohse leaders of Ventress, and then another more insidious sounding one at the Pinnacle on Aliso.
The first meeting on Cilix had seen him volunteer for a role on a delegation to the capital world of Arx. He had been there only once before, about a month and half ago, just before taking his first few contracts from middleman Dath Kossir. Furious and a few other members of the upper echelons would also be a part of this delegation, or atleast be heading to Arx for the summit. As Tahiri had layed out each person’s assignments, Kalen was given the task of leading the procurement and diplomatic engagement side of the delegation. Furious was to be the overall leader, but would not ‘be allowed anywhere near a conference room with diplomats present”, his skills leaning more to the martial side of things.
And now here he was, in his GX1 short hauler, along with Karracca, the silverback and slightly overweight wookie, on their way to Arx. Karracca was one of the House’s senior Envoys, and had been assigned as the diplomatic aide de camp. Along with him and D, a few other diplomatic functionaries who Kalen had volunteered to ‘give a ride’ were also aboard.
Karracca grumbled with a low tongue role. Saying ‘I’m going for a nap’ in his language.
Kalen who had started to pick up a few words of Shryiwook during the cartel job a week before, and with the help of D-3po, was starting to learn some of the syntax as well. Still, he thought Karracca had said ‘I need a snack.’
“There’s some leftover nerfloins in the fridge if you want.” Kalen said to the massive wookie as he got up and left the cockpit. They would be arriving at Arx in about 2 hours, and they would all be staying at the Flitz on Arx Minor.
As many of the diplomatic events would be happening there or at the adjacent Brotherhood Envoy compound.
Kalen had read the itinerary, and he would have to make 2 trips down to the main planet/capital for a meeting and a conference later in the week, but for the most part he was looking forward to enjoying the sub-penthouse suite at the Flitz that he and the wookie would be sharing. ‘Take advantage of room service since House Ventress is picking up the tab’ were his thoughts. His only regret was that Corra had been too busy at her father’s shop to take the week off and join him on this trip.
Suite 1807, Flitz, Arx Minor
As the 2 oddball buddies opened the door to their suite, Kalen whistled in amazement, and Karracca churled in approval. It was ornate and austentatious to say the least. It was a 2 level suite with 2 bedrooms upstairs, and a large kitchen with and an even larger living room area on the lower level. The entire exterior wall on the lower floor was transparisteel windows with a big double door leading out onto a 30x20 foot patio adorned with plush tables and chairs.
The wookie dropped his bags at the base of the L shaped staircase and went and layed himself out on the massive sectional sofa in the living room. He grunted and yawned as he stretched out.
“Yeah, I think I could get used to this too brother” Kalen said as sauntered around and took a tour of what would be home for the next 8 days.
“`All Hands on Deck-
A large summit consisting of politicians, diplomats, bankers, financiers, and business magnates from all over this side of the galaxy is taking place on Arx. Apparently the Brotherhoods Envoys efforts over the past few years have finally started to pay dividends. The view of the Brotherhood in this corner of the galaxy was slowly starting to shift. This large series of bi and multi-lateral meetings, conferences, presentations and symposiums was designed to continue slowly shifting the perceptions of governments. Another goal was sell important players on the interstellar scene on the upside of working with or at least continuing to turn a blind eye to the brotherhood.
For the 8 days the summit is being held and for several days before and after, the streets of Arx seem much more crowded and cosmopolitan than usual. The Brotherhood was rolling out the red carpet, betting that goodwill and positive actions would lead to investments, sanctions relief and new territories in which they could operate. The Council has asked the clans to send a delegation of diplomats and a small security contingent each to help provide a safe and secure environment for the summit to be held.”`
“Wait. I need you to repeat that.”
The Deputy Grand Master was already half out of the taxi transport when he paused with his question. He held a gloved finger up to his ear, triggering a communicator there.
“A betting pool? For that?” Thane asked, actually surprised for once. He shouldn’t be, but he was. Finally, he sighed and closed the taxi door with a quick gesture. “Send the details. The data could be of use.”
With that, the Firrerreo dropped his hand. He surveyed the crowded space, taking in the temporary displays and decorations that sought to distort the depressing grey of the streets. Well, depressing to most. If others could see what Thane could—or any other species that could view the ultraviolet spectrum—then they’d see all the variations of colour. Much like the cloaks adorning Umbaran representatives.
He quickly plotted a route through the crowd that would result in minimal delay and executed it, heading for the temporary conference center. While Thane’s steps were solid and sure, he was annoyed internally. He would much rather be walking in the opposite direction. Away from the pending headaches claiming to be diplomats and representatives.
Hello Migraine, how are you and Brain Aneurysm doing today? Annoying me? What a surprise! Not.
Thane had already pulled out his datapad (which had decided to remain fully operational for the time being) and was reviewing his pending agreements and proposals while waiting for admittance.
“Weak threat,” Iphis said flatly. “Half the point of murder is everyone knowing you did it.”
The Hapan was doing what any veteran of Arx social functions would recognize as The Scan: half-engaging in a conversation while sweeping the room for somebody more important to talk to. Her efforts were hampered by the fact that she knew none of the clan delegates, much less the foreign ones.
“Is that Renatus?” she asked the quasi-Shani.
Serpentine saffron eyes flicked over to the indicated individual, and the slightest, bird-like tilt of the head made long, whispy tail feathers sway.
“That would indeed be,” confirmed the changeling, similarly scanning. Their thin lips twisted in a fanged facsimile of a smile. “He and the pirate queen-cum-shipwreck of yours share an Anzellan tailor. Perhaps they could make something that would suit for your funeral garb.”
“An Anzellan? Someone of our height? The mind boggles at the logistics. Still, I am in the market for a tailor if you have recommendations that aren’t centered around assassination.”
“If I had recommendations for anything in this world, I wouldn’t give you a single one.” A saccharine smile accompanied this before their face fell utterly blank again, and back they were to standing about watching people and perhaps chatting in hallways. “Is a little anooba on a leash like you even allowed to speak to o Lord Renatus?”
Suite 1807, Flitz, Arx Minor
Karracca was snoring on the couch in the living room. Kalen was reviewing his comm and datalinks. The summit officially began the next day. D-3P0 was shuffling around the kitchen preparing dinner.
The droid was wearing a cooking apron that he had found in one of the closets, that was red coloured and had ‘I COOK MEAT’ boldly scrawled across the front.
“Master Joss due you know to what temperature Master Karracca would prefer his nerf fillets cooked?” The droid said as he twitted about cutting vegatables on the counter.
“I don’t but I’ve learned you never go wrong with medium rare D.”
“An excellent suggestion Master, I will cook his fillet medium rarely sir.”
Kalen just shook his head and went back to his datalink and went over the itinerary for the next day again, his datalink read:
Day 1 Itinerary, Brotherhood Summit of ABY 43…..
Scheduled events:
-Opening session, Multi-lateral Regional Security Conference
-Opening Session, Brotherhood Military Attache’s Roundtable
-Economic and Business Developement Presentation- Titled ‘Increased monetary fluidity in diverse markets open windows for every business to increase profits; how to maximizs yeilds across your portfolio’
-Meet and Greet, followed by Opening Banquet
-Golden Envoy Lecture Series, first day of talks, titled ‘The Brotherhood and You’
The locations and times of the events were listed in a column on the side of the page, and after locking in reminders for the 3 events he would be attending he put the datalink down. Kalen pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed…maybe Karracca had had the right idea, it had been a long trip from Aliso, and a pre dinner nap might be in order.
After his first night in the plush, soft and cozy bed, Kalen made a note to buy the same type for the place he was having built for him and Corra back on Aliso. The 1000 thread count sheets and pillow cases were just the icing on the Thyferran cake.
His first event of the Summit(his first event as an official diplomat of his House/Clan ever in fact) saw him and Karracca attending the multi lateral Regional Security Conferences first session.
Mostly this was local and neighboring worlds and interstellar powers going through long lists filled with minor and often trivial security concerns they had. Each Clan of the Brotherhood had representatives there. The goal of these particular talks from a Brotherhood standpoint, was to hear what the weaknesses of their neighbors were under the guise of offering to hear them out, and offer symbolic or token assistance. In exchange, the Brotherhood would presumably gain greater access and influence within the neighboring regions.
It could be seen as a win win situation, but it was actually a calculated and well thought out deception campaign by the Brotherhood. It would cost them little, but the areas that would opened up to them could be priceless. At the end of the first session, the only thing of consequence to House Ventress thst had occurred, was Karracca agreeing for them to send a few ships to investigate a smuggling ring operting near Oar'anthor 4 that was driving down the price of their main export.
After the nearly 5 hour session adjourned until the next session on day 3, Kalen and Karracca did some shopping in the large mini-mall at the base of the Flitz and headed back up to their suite. The next function they’d be attending was the Diplomatic meet and greet followed by the official opening banquet. Their would be 2 banquets, one for diplomats and their staffs on Arx Minor in the Flitz’s banquet hall. And another bigger one on Arx for the all the politicians, bankers, and businessman.
Aa they go back into the suite Karracca growled and stretched before laying out on the sofa again with his Datalink in hand, reviewing diplomatic notes from the session.
‘He’s certainly getting his moneys worth out of that couch’ Kalen thought.
The wookie growled ‘I sure am’ in response, having telepathically sensed what Kalen was thinking.
“Don’t be so jealous, dear. It’s unattractive. Besides, from what I hear, you don’t talk with Renatus so much as at him.”
She paused. “What’s the speculation on who he’ll bring in when he finally bumps Victae off?”
The Flitz, Arx Minor
It was something to see. A bunch of the upper echelons of the Brotherhood in the same room with delegates and representstives from 18 star systems, 8 megacorps, and 6 ‘minor powers’ from the regions around the Brotherhoods various clan holding. With diplomatic and event staff the room would have well over a thousand people, broken up into 12 person tables.
A Byss 6 piece band was playing on a stage at the front corner of the room next to a large head table. At that table on the rostrum sat the primary reps from the Brotherhoods leadership and the leaders of the 5 minor power along with the CEOs of the 3 largest megacorps. The other 5 megacorps delegations had been purposefully relegated to a few tables in the back of the room due to running afoul of the Brotherhood at some point in the recent past. This in itself was a diplomatic statement by the Brotherhood to those corporations.
Kalen and Karracca found themselves at a table with members of both Scholae Palatinae and members of their own clan(Plagueis).
The decorations were easy thrown up tassles and banners, with a large red curtain hung on the wall behind the head table. The wait staff were all thoroughly vetted for security reasons and an entire battalion of Brotherhood troops were on perimiter security outside the event. There was a festive atmosphere in the banquet hall though, and this facade was all apart of curated atmosphere that the Brotherhood had cultivated for this event.
Looking out at the sea of tables, Alethia wasn’t sure if she felt worse for Tameike or Adenn. The entire affair was simply too big. It made sense from the diplomatic angle, but the logistics of securing this event—or collecting against the attendees—must have been a nightmare.
Even the limited details within her purview had been a headache. Case in point, her nameplate at the table:
Headmistress Alethia Archenksova
Trustee, Aurora Collegium of Sciences
A sizeable portion of the attendees represented Collegium interests, which is why they were invited in the first place. But the entire point of the Aurora Collegium was that it wasn’t publicly affiliated with the Brotherhood. Offworld, it was a non-issue, but this was Arx: it was utterly implausible to get through the event under the pretext that none of the Brotherhood attendees knew the Headmistress.
Which raised its own problem. Although Nehalem and Victae had removed most of the gratuitously evil names, she was still head of the Shadow Academy. “The Brotherhood” already sounded like a cult, and the general foreign policy these days was to not come off as a sinister conspiracy of evildoers.
Hence the gymnastics. She was Headmistress Alethia Archenksova, headmistress of nothing in particular. Her actual position was listed as a trustee of the Aurora Collegium, important enough to be the top representative but not explicitly in charge. Nevermind that she was the only trustee.
A ping from her datapad broke Alethia out of her ruminations. She looked at it, then at the empty seat next to her. She picked up her comlink.
“Please don’t tell me you’re actually waiting in line to get into your own event.” <@185936112441622529>
Thane blinked for a moment, looking up from his datapad at no one in particular. He hadn’t realized just how long he had been waiting. Then he sighed and raised a finger to his ear. “Fine,” he answered. “I will not tell you.”
At the same time, some of the ushers must’ve grokked to who he was. A few panicked faces rushed through the crowd and started directing the Deputy Grand Master into the building proper.
He said nothing, but he did affix one attendant with an unblinking stare when they tried to place a “Darth Renatus” name tag on him. Once they shied away, he finished his approach to the main table.
The banquet started well for Kalen, he had greeted his fellow Plagueians at the table and made pleasantries with the Scholae Palatinae members that they would be sharing it with. Karracca had sourced a few bottles of wine, and the appetizers platters were served about 10 minutes after they had all sat down.
While everyone was nibbling away and making small talk, a junior military attache from SP who was seated across from Kalen, voicef what many of his collegues were thinking “So, uh, Kalen was it…yeah, are you some sort of Jedi Knight or something or did you think this was a like some sort of Maaquerade Ball.” He laughed along with a few of his friends.
A few of a Kalens Plagueian associates stopped and listened as they heard The question. Kalen did look out of place wearing Old Republic Jedi Order robes with weird unfamiliar medals and pendants. “You could say I’m a grandfathered Jedi Knight yeah, that’d be accurate.”
He didn’t want to quibble over the fact he was made a Master Jedi about 7 months prior. Kalen met the young attaches glare after he had finished his chuckle with his pals.
One of the other members of the Ventress diplomatic delegation who had hitched a ride to the summit with Kalen spoke up, “He’s not that kind of Jedi pal.”
“Oh really, well then what kind of Jedi is he then? And where do the hokey looking medals come from. Where did you serve to get those?” The attache retorted snarkily.
Kalen didnt seem phased by the question at all, even taking a second to dip a vegetable into some spicy sauce and taking a bite. “Fair questions, I would describe myself as a member of an offshoot of the Jedi Order that was…seperated from civilization for about 70 years, to make a long story short….as for where I got these, I got them while serving with the 17th Frontier Squadron. How about you? Where’d you get your medal?” Kalen said emphasizing the singular in a calm but slightly defensive tone.
“Whats that supposed to me….”
The junior attache began to make a choking sound for a second before making a short sharp gasp for air.
The senior SP member at the table swiftly changed the topic to an idea for inter fleet training exercises between their 2 clans navies some time in the next year. The junior attache went to the ‘washroom’ about 20 minutes later and mysteriously never returned.
In orbit above Arx, the Raider II-class corvette Geirskogul dropped out of hyperspace, steadily approaching the world that headquartered the Dark Jedi Brotherhood. From a hangar on the ship, a chromium-plated H-Type Nubian Yacht took off and cruised toward the planet’s atmosphere.
As the silvery ship soared across Arx’s skies, a few kilometers from the ground, the pilot informed the singular passenger of their arrival. Furios Morega di Plagia nodded in understanding. “Fly over the city. I’ll drop in,” he explained as he headed for the exit ramp.
“You’re not going to wait for us to land?”
The Sith didn’t break his stride. “You can just land and come find me later.” Within moments he was activating the controls to lower the ramp in midair. The pilot came in over his comm link, yelling over the roar of the wind.
“Aren’t you going to bring a parachute?!”
“Parachutes are for wusses!” Furios yelled back before he jumped.
-
On the ground below, Arx News reporter Jalen Koss was speaking on the presence of so many of the galaxy’s big wigs in one place for the Brotherhood’s summit. He was in the middle of narrating live updates to the audience on the other end of the holo-recorder when a giant armored Sith suddenly fell into the recorders view from the sky. The Plagueian face-planted on the duracrete ground behind him with a loud thud.
Jalen turned to see what the noise was and confoundedly uttered “Oh my Force!”
-
The following morning, an unconscious Furios awoke. He was in a medical bed, his right leg wrapped in a cast. “That was fun,” he muttered through his sedative-laden haze. He looked at his suspended leg. “That’s new…” The Sith proceeded to enter a Force-induced trance to heal the broken bones.
Kalen, just so happened to be looking in the direction of a large screen on a side wall that was covering news of the event live from outside. The coverage was interupted by the sight of Furios, Kalens House Aedile, biffing it and ending up in a heap mere feet behind the reporter. The cameraman knew the assignment and kept the holo vid rolling filling Furios’ lifeless body on the duracrete until the feed was cut a few seconds later.
Many in the banquet hall had seen the coverage and were gasping in shock.
Karracca telepathically said to Kalen ‘Boss is gonna need many bottles of clear liqour tomorrow’
Kalen said out loud “He sure is Karra, he sure is.”
As he heard Kalen called him him Karra he let out a muted growl.
“What? Its a nickname, its a cool…you know, nickname, come on bud, you’re not gonna make me say that third syllable every time are you?” Kalen had been learning the wookies native language oretty quickly after all.
Karra grumbled the shryiwook phrase for ‘just keep it to a minimum’.
The Epicanthix awoke for the second time that day as the sun was setting on Eos City’s skyline. His leg was fully healed and now itched a little in the cast. He groaned a bit as he struggled out of the bed and rose to his feet. He sighed at the large mass of plaster on his previously injured limb and forcefully bent his knee, snapping it along the joint. “Where’s my armor?” he asked nobody in particular, hobbling toward the door with broken cast in tow and his rear slightly exposed by the partially open hospital gown.
-
At the summit’s dinner, Furios looked annoyed and hungover, though the latter wasn’t actually due to alcohol but rather the sedatives from his little hospital stay. He’d never been one for these kinds of gatherings, but attending this event was required of his station as Aedile. Thus he agreed to show up and behave, though the ‘behaving’ part was easier said than done. So long as these rich saps didn’t decide to mess around and find out, or the servers didn’t run out of food, the Sith figured he could maintain his composure.
“I hear you had a fight with the ground and lost,” a familiar and melodic voice called to him, causing the Epicanthix to turn toward the approaching sound’s owner. .
Zandra Esanis looked stunning dressed in a sleek, yet long and flowy, black number that modestly covered her tall, lithe physique. It went well with the small, matching clutch purse hanging over her shoulder on a slender, silver chain. Her black hair with violet streaks hung to her lower back with a single, loose braid draped down the middle. It was a stark contrast to her usual style, which was almost always tied up and hidden beneath a helmet. The black dress also paired well with her pale-olive skin and matched the dark red lipstick and violet shadow that accentuated her mouth and eyes. Furios’ look of annoyance instantly transformed into a smile.
“What’s this I hear about you skydiving without a parachute?” she asked with a smirk of amusement. “The pilot informed me you said they’re for ‘wusses’ before you jumped?”
“It seemed like fun at the time…” the Sith offered.
“After all the times we’ve dropped into war zones over the years, I’d think you’d have at least a little respect for the necessary gear.”
“I didn’t have it so I went without,” he replied with a bemused smile.
“So what was the damage?” she asked while reaching into her bag.
“Just a compound fracture or two,” the di Plagia answered casually. “Already healed up.”
Zandra pulled a small case from her handbag and opened it to reveal a number of small medals that the Sith had earned over the years.
“Why do you have those?” Furios asked curiously.
“We’re at a formal event and you’re one of the few in armor,” she replied, attaching them one by one to his chest. She deftly pinned a number of different accolades to the Sith’s cuirass: various crosses, a few Gold Novae, and some of the more impressive ribbons from the Dark Crusade. “People love and respect war heroes,” she added, closing the medal case and returning it to her purse.
“Oh hey, I haven’t seen some of these in ages.” Furios craned his neck to eye the shiny adornments on his chest as best he could. “I forgot I even had them.”
Kalen was half cut by the time Furios had came into the Banquet. The organizers had planned 5 rounds of appetizers. It was over an hour and a half of nibbling on finger foods interspersed with some speeches before dinner was even served.
The disappearance of the you attache had disturbed Kalen slightly. Though the alcohol and the shesr spectacle of having 1000 people of this high status in the same room sharing a meal was almost inspiring to him. Eventually after dinner Kalen decided to go and try to find some members of this Clan Odan Urr he had heard about at the bonfirenparty from a few weeks before.
Karracca, being a bit of an old letch was busy hitting on a younger wookie female from one of the megacorp security details over at another table.
It appears The Asphalt-eater, as some of the public has started referring to him, has stabilized and is recovering at a swift pace. No further details have been released about our news interloper, but officials assure no foul play or dangerous vehicle malfunctions are at fault here. Now, onto the weather…
The holovid player clicked off, followed by the soft clack of a remote being placed on the dresser. Several quiet footsteps grew closer until familiar fingers fought off her own for the laces of her dress. Diyrian Grivna exhaled with a smile on her face and relented, welcoming the assistance. She smoothed the front of her rose colored dress, fixing the wide folded collar that wrapped down to her side. Still shocked, she was to find something formal like this that she actually liked, with the hip height slits of the dress and the pleated pants giving life to her already lively saunter. The color contrasted perfectly with her forest green curls currently pulled back into a modest but proud updo.
“It looks good on you. Told you Marroulo does quality work.”
Diyrian pivoted and faced the Mirialan woman behind her with a grin, “Thanks for the recommendation,” she paused, “and for your help lately, Izzie.”
“Which kind? Don’t mention it,” Elip Isysna joked briefly with a smirk before dismissing the other possibility, her assistance with some info on the new Kessel spicers. Her inked orange-tan hand offered out several gold bangles instead that Diyrian took and slid on. With a couple last touches done up, the Kiffar had no reason to delay going to the banquet any further.
“Are ya sure you don’t want to come? I could bribe the guards, get ya a plus-one ticket,” Diy asked as she watched pale blond braids swing when Izzie stooped to grab her bag. The Mirialan paused briefly, considering. .
“As much as I’d love to exercise some old skills, I’m needed elsewhere tonight.” Izzie made her way to the door with one final look back and a playful grin. “Plus, I saw an old friend I’d rather avoid.”
“Do they have to do with that tattoo, on your hand?” Diyrian called out the door and heard the chuckle before it shut behind the Shroud Syndicate smuggler. She shook her head with an amused smile, reaffirming her vow to find out more about the lass. Until then, she had dinner to go to, negotiations to make, and another galpal to support. With a final check on her precious bargaining weight, the small blue crystal suspended in a vial, she grabbed her hand purse and left.
The turbolift’s door opened up to the somewhat busy main lobby of The Flitz. Most of the crowd had already made their way to the banquet hall, but there was a few Diyrian knew were lingering still. It didn’t take her long to catch a sandy tail swishing anxiously against a dark blue skirt. The half-Ryn was on alert, understandably when one with high senses and a smidge of paranoia is placed in a conference of high and powerful figures. A sympathetic smile played on Diy’s lips before she called to her longtime friend with a warmer grin.
“Jeanie!” She watched the shoulders release a fraction as Zujenia Bleu turned and accepted the offered hug. Diy was careful not to smush the corded sleeves and crinkly golden top of the other woman’s dress. She offered a wave and greeting nod to Ruka and Socorra lingering nearby, a promise to talk to them shortly before being released from the embrace. The Kiffar smoothed down the sleeves she barely wrinkled and tucked an ashen white bang behind one of the half-Ryn’s pointed ears, the rest of that thick wavy hair done up in a bun. “You look stunning. I’m surprised Kord let you leave the house.” .
“He almost didn’t, I had to convince him to stay with the kids,” Zujenia replied with a small frown, missing the intent behind Diy’s words at the moment. She paused and a faint purple hue lit those taupe cheeks. “Oh, heh, yes.”
Diyrian chuckled and then exhaled, her hand snagging Zuji’s vine inked one as it fell, squeezing it. “Hey, hun, you’re gonna do well out there. I know you and your passion, there’s no reality you don’t walk out of here without securing some funding for the Lotus.”
The half-Ryn squeezed her hand back with a smile. A good chunk of that anxiety seeped away and replaced with strengthened resolve. “Thanks. You as well, Diy.”
“Right, so a banquet with free food that would cost us thousands in creds. Shall we?” the Arconan Consul asked of not just Zujenia but to Ruka and Socorra as well. She then led the way inside the din of the banquet hall.
<@244244163002892288> <@141239709291511808>
Breathe in.
One, two, three, four.
Hold.
One, two, three, four.
Breathe out, ay, one, two, three, four…
Do it for them.
…do it for you, too.
Misted lilac eyes opened, a breath, a gentle, easy wave of Dark rising water, like the tide slowly drifting in, taking in the sharp details all around them. It was only the space between heartbeats, a blink, but in that liminal whisper between blood and air came a world snapping into focus.
Arx, the Councillors, the other Clans, and all the various emissaries and rich kriffs here weren’t supposed to be enemies. He wasn’t supposed to need to see. But still he found himself wrapped in a complicated, gilded, deep mauve suit that was akin to armor, like his robes, with pauldrons and a half-cape, boots reminiscient of greeves, one sleeved arm like a gauntlet. The other was bare up to his shoulder, boldly showing off his Lotus tattoo, his heritage, his scars. It matched Diy, Cora had made sure of that, in hue and fashion, or something to that effect. Ruka had wanted to listen better to his husband, but the buzzing under his skin and in his chest was louder, making his thoughts skip.
He wasn’t Proconsul to his ‘adopted’ Clan anymore; he was an outsider. He and Qyreia had been fired for their constant hounding and protesting of Victae and others, fighting tooth and nail for – fewer war crimes, diplomatic establishment, bans on slavery, all sorts of things, kriffing pay your taxes – and it all still hung like a letter unfinished and unsent in the back of his head, nagging all the time.
Sometimes he was an Envoy. An okay one. The golden sash currently wrapped over his locs, which Cora had also wrestled gold bands to match onto even while Ruka whined, was supposed to mean as much. And he’d never stopped being a Lotus Knight, working with Zujenia…he’d just had other priorities too. Politics. War. Another coma.
Going blind.
Stray apprenticies.
So, what?
What now?
At least this whole thing, slap in the face though it felt, was better. It meant things were getting better, it meant progress.
It was alright that it hurt so much to see it when you’d been trying for so long, the therapist said. Cora agreed.
But this he knew how to do, now. Stand around. Stand on guard. Pretend, badly, he wasn’t standing on guard.
At least he wasn’t the only one really bad at it, even if his Zeltron wasn’t here anymore to elbow him about his performance.
“All kandosii, ay?” Ruka muttered to Socorra as they peeled off from where they’d parked to watch people like they weren’t both paranoid, scarred, burned, and linked by shared memories of horrible kist. He started towards Diy and Zujenia, smiling at them both, a real grin for them. Diy, something like an old friend, trusted and never once trusted and pressed between their palms with a ring; and Zuji, the incredible woman and mother he could never forgive himself for hurting but could definitely die side by side in the trenches of flour and berries while spending three days supplying a kindergarten bake sale.
<@141239709291511808>
Back at the CP/CSP table Kalen returned from the bar with 2 bottles of clear liqour and placed them infront of Furios with a smile.
“These are for you boss. I ordered one and when the barkeep heard it was for you he handed me a second one…said it would save me from making another trip 20 minutes from now.” Kalen shrugged at Furios.
<@882372854115610694>
Blackhawk amd Spokk entered the banquet. Neither one much bothered anyone, but Blackhawk was clearly more sociable than his Wookie companion. Exchanging pleasantries and introductions with others along the way, Blackhawk made his way to the Plagueis table. “Good evening, gentlemen.” the Clawdite greeted everyone as he took his place, Spokk electing to sit on the floor instead of using one of the chairs. “How is everything?”
After greeting Blackhawk and his wookie companion, Kalen asked “Been having any more fun since the last time I seen you Black?”
He was referring to the ‘cartel base job’ they had done together a few weeks prior.
Screen slide, meanwhile
Down on Arx, a black cloaked Zabrak with blue face tattoos hurredly checked himself in to a suite he had reserved at the Flitz Spaceport Express, a relatively new budget version of the Flitz that had been franchised near one of the capitals main spaceports.
He was a member of the small and reclusive Hassissi Clan of the Zabrak species. They were known for one thing and one thing only, murder-for-hire assassinations. He would be attending two symposiums about weapons manufacture and sales respectively later in the week. Those would be during the 3 day ‘combat systems’ trade show that began the next day. His cover was solid, operating under a fake identity and his target was a high profile public figure who would not be that hard to find. He wasn’t a Jedi, but he was an adept force user, and he was young and eager to prove himself to his superiors back home.
Slide screen, back at the banquet
Thom Gaark, the CEO of the Selonia Fabrication Corporation(SFC) was at one of the rear tables, his sales and outreach team and he were sharing their table with 5 of their counterparts from the Seinar Fleet Systems team.
Both mega corporations had recently run afoul of the Brotherhood in recent months. Seinar, for overcharging for modifications to some designs of ships they were building, and SFC for dithering on a massive sole source contract for large prefabricated structures. These weren’t major offenses worthy of the Grand or Deputy Grand Master forming choking a mother fliffer over, but still, by placing them at the back of the room and not at the head table, a strong message had been sent by the Brotherhood. Playball or else.
“So, Pers(the Seinar COO) were you all happy with those shipyard piers we shipped out to you a few months for that big new yard you are building there?” Thom said as he sipped some vintage Uvenan champagne.
Pers shrugged “Haven’t heard any complaints yet, so maybe you’ll avoid a back charge on that contract” the sarcasm was laced all over the comment. SFC had been flerfin the nerf on several major projects, with 2 major delayed and back charges, and a seperate overdue fine on a different contract.
“With the duracrete workers union strike in the core going on, we’re doing our best to make up time, you know that, but like we said to your guys on site. We can only make the stuff as fast as your parent companies mines will feed us the raw material.” Thoms response sounded conciliatory, but it contained the direct inferrence that he knew Seinars parent company was trying to squeeze them out of future contracts.
Pers got the hint and gave a side nod “I’ll talk to Jazh, see if he can increase how much of the monthly quotas you all recieve, all your had to do was ask.” It all sounded pleasant to the untrained ear, but the tension at this particular banquet table was palpable.
Karracca, the old, overweight wookie went to have a seat, and as his posterior landed on the chair, the rear 2 legs snapped like twigs under the nearly 400lb frame of the wookie. He fall backwards with a thud.
Without skipping a beating the old wookie just rolled to his side, stop up and threw the remmants of the chair aside, and had a seat on the floor like Spokk did a few minutes prior.
Kalen, had to stop himself from doing a spit take, as he was mid sip when this occurred.
“Nah,” Blackhawk answered “mission turnaround ain’t that quick. Pretty sure they’re still processing Intel from that interrogation. He was more than ready to talk when I entered the room ” The Jedi didn’t know it yet, but Blackhawk had arranged for a little surprise back in his room. A little repayment for that mission. Spokk didn’t bother hiding a chuckle as Karracca snapped the chair.
Karracca growled lightheartedly at Spokk in Shryiwook “You just wait a couple hundred years kiddo, and see how nimble you still are.” He was fat, he knew it, and he realized how ridiculous he had just appeared. He chuckled before retrieving a full bottles of wine and taking a swig.
“I’ll bet. I was worried there for a second when on Badge and Karra came running out after I landed.” Kalen said, the landing in question could only be called that because the ship hadn’t been a total write off. Kalen had actually sold the(heavily damaged) vessel and bought the new JV Corra II a few days after the mission had been completed.
<@280930981983289345>
“Landed… sure. We could call it that.” Blackhawk had a good idea what had happened, though he had been busy at the time. “At least it provide some cover.” “Those cartel guys were funny.” the mechanical voice of Spokk’s translator chimed in. “Happens when you float in with blood stained armor after you drop a damn bomb on them.” Blackhawk replied.
“Oh that was him? I thought one of our fighters had crashed into the ridge!” Kalen had be busy saving Karracca at the time. He nodded as a sigb of respect at Spokk.
“You mean the bomb that went off in that group in front of you? That was me. You actually heard me land in the mountain? ” Spokk replied, minorly impressed. “Someone pays attention at least.”
‘I didnt hear, I saw you land from the cockpit of my old ship. You came in so quick, i thought you were a Vulture droid who crashed" Kalen laughed. These Force users here in this galaxy sure did have some neat tricks.
20 minutes later
Kalen had wondered away from his table. He was intent on finding a member of COU, as he had heard that they had a catalog of partial Jedi personnel and historical records. Though he hadn’t been keeping up with his training or meditations in the past few months, he still considered himself a Jedi Guardian, and he had chatting with several others about how he might be able to find the some records from the time his grandfathers squadron had been lost. He had been told that the clerics from COU would be his best bet.
He was interested in learning more about his family and specifically about how far back the Jedi tradition ran in his family. It was a topic of conversation that was rarely ever discussed with his mother and father, and grandpa Torah had died when he was only 6. He did know that his grandfather did come from a well-to-do Balmorran family. So it couldnt hurt to check around and see if their was an unclaimed inheritance or 2 laying around waiting for him.
After finding a table with several members who appeared to be wearing Jedi-esque robes, he stopped and asked of they were from Odan Urr. He was in luck, they were.
Thane, or he supposed, Renatus (since he was at work and all that) adjusted the fit of his gloves while sitting next to Alethia. He exchanged several unspoken yet word filled glances with the Headmistress. He didn’t want to be there. He never wanted to be there. Yet he had been saddled with burden and responsibility by a Grand Master that thought it funny to do so.
The curse of competency.
Still, at least he wasn’t commanding armies. Or worrying about quarterly earnings reports. That had sucked. Keeping up communications with Clan leadership was far simpler in scope yet vastly more complex. Still, sentients were an occasionally enjoyable puzzle to solve. When they weren’t giving him headaches.
Darth Renatus’ gaze shifted from table to table as he continued to take note of who had actually attended.
Right infront of Renatus, Kalen finished his brief but insightful conversation with one of the COU diplomatic attaches, at their table. They were both wearing ‘Light side’ robes and this wouldnt seem odd at all. After nodding in deference and clinking glasses in a ‘cheers’, Kalen then went back and had a seat at the Plagueian table, as if he belonged there.
This, would appear out of the ordinary.
Black-gold eyes flit between the Odanite and Plagueian delegations.
That…was weird. Plagueis was one of the darker aligned clans. They didn’t exactly play nice with the goody-two-shoes, so to speak. And all that messy slavery business. Sorry, work for food and shelter.
“Bizarre, isn’t it?” Alethia said. “I hope Haku has exfiltration plans in place for when the Dread Lord tires of the novelty.”
“Expect the worst and you will never be surprised,” Renatus replied. It was so much easier to trust in the darkest side of everyone else’s nature. Events became far less surprising after that.
“They have the tiny forks,” Diy mused to Zujenia as she plucked one and the hors d'oeuvre impaled on it from a passing tray. Luck had it that it was a treat crafted from a folded leaf pinned onto a shallow stack of vegetables and cream spread, with not a piece of meat touching it. She popped it in her mouth and savored the treat.
The half-ryn glanced over at the mentioned tiny utensil and a nudge from the Kiffar, “A cocktail fork?”
“Mm, right, that. Do you want any?” Diy asked.
Zujenia shook her head and waved off the appetizers, the server moving on to others. The look Diy gave her was noted and appreciated regardless. Her tail flicked as she sighed. “I believe my assigned seat is elsewhere. I should go take it and start mingling, yeah? I think the Principate isn’t far from me, so… I’ll talk to you later.”
“Alright, hun, We’ll be over here if you need, just shoot a message,” Diy reminded her with a squeeze of Zuji’s hand before they parted.
A moment later, the Arconan consul was sitting at the table assigned to members of the clan. She picked at the vegetables around a chunk of marbled nerf for a bit before setting her fork down. Sipping from a cold glass of water, Diy observed the banquet hall, curiously taking in what bits of conversation she heard and idly commenting in those closer to her.
After the conversation at the CP/CSP table took on a more militaristic tone…with words like blasters, bombers, battalion, regiments, jetpack assualt companies, training doctrine, and operational fluidity being thrown around, Kalen decided it wasn’t really his vibe. He understood the basics of some of thenconceots, but he didnt want to look dumb in front of his superior and peers, so he politely excused himself from the table again and went off, intent on find some of those megacorp business types about buying s new ship. He had noticed that 2 of the larger and most reputable ship building companies actually had delegations in the room.
On his way he accidentally bumped into a platinum/white haired woman with pointed ears.
“Oh, oops, I’m sorry…please go ahead” Kalen stepped back and put his arm out to the side making way for her to pass. As had become instinct now, he surface scanned her and was suprised to noticed she wasn’t as ‘sithy’ and closed as many other had been so far.
<@244244400488710155>
“I’m Kalen by the way” said innocently yet idiotically, considering he was wearing a name tag already.
“Sorry,” the half-Ryn woman uttered near simultaneously, her sandy tail flicking more in surprise than agitation.
She adjusted the shawl draped over her arms as she recentered herself. While she wasn’t the most open of an individual, there was an aura around her that felt light and steady. It was warmer than some signatures around the banquet, not entirely unlike those of some of Clan Odan-Urr members. Her gaze lifted up from his name tag with the introduction with a light smile. She offered a hand out to him.
“I’m Zujenia Bleu, pleasure to meet you, Kalen.” She paused and stepped to the side of the walkway, out of the way of a passing group. Zuji glanced back at the man beside her. “I’m afraid this is my first dinner of this size. Are you enjoying it? Any recommendations?”
Kalen shrugged a made a penitent face “Enjoying it for sure, but this is only my second banquet ever personally.” He gazed around a bit, noticing there was groups mingling about all over the room now as dinner service was ongoing but demand for more food was lightening up. Some around where beginning to light cigars or cigarillos.
“Mm,” Zujenia nodded. “Mind if I ask who you’re affiliated with?”
“Oh of course. Here I’m an envoy of…Clan Plagueis(he wasnt even sure if he was allowed to mention the word Ventress in this hall). What about you? Are you with one of the delegations?” Kalen said as he sipped his fruity beverage.
Zujenia stilled briefly and her tail twitched when the mention of Plagueis was mentioned. It was a fleeting thing, something about Kalen’s uncertainty eased her shoulders. She reminded herself that things have changed over the years and to give the benefit of the doubt. Still, she would be lying if she denied putting up a fence now.
“I’m quite affiliated with the clans, although I work with several who are,” she chose not to mention connection with Arcona and Dajorra at this time. The half Ryn refrained from crossing her arms and gave a short smile, “I work in public service, humanitarian work. An interest in bettering the communities the Brotherhood serves, as we should.”
“Oh I see, well it is a pleasure to meet you Zujenia. I’ve been considering moving into diplomacy and envoy work in the future myself. Though the Order is no more, I still like to think I follow a Jedi’s path…well as much as pragmatism allows that is…” he shrugged, unable to figure out a better way to word it.
Kalen sensed that the women infront of him might indeed be able to help him answer some of the more inane amd eclectic questions he had about what had gone on the past 70 years or so. The tabloids he read and holos he watched were giving him only a jaded perspective, or so he assumed.
“If you are interested in diplomacy and aid work, I encourage you to reach out to the Envoys and the Embassy. I know the Exarch well and several other members. They do great work.” Zujenia uttered after recovering from surprise. A Jedi? In Plagueis?
She paused and thought for a moment, realizing now was a possible time to provide influence for the man and his path. Zujenia nodded sympathetically. “I am not a Jedi like my father before me, but I walk a similar path. There are cells of the Order that still exist, conclaves of them across the galaxy and friends among them. Hold on to your beliefs and find the shape in it that rings true for you.”
She smiled warmly, “If you find yourself questioning or need to talk, feel free to reach out to me or others who walk the light, Kalen…?”
A subtle attempt for a surname.
Hold on to his beliefs?…In the face of what he thought. Again Kalen started gettinf the feint sense that there was a sizable chunk of the ‘big picture’ that was so far eluding him.
“Joss…Kalen Joss. And thanks for the reccomendations, I will certainly look into them for sure. My friend Karra, the big silverback wookie over there” Kalen motioned back to his table, “He is a senior envoy for House Ventress, and apparently he seems to think that I saved his life and owes me some sort of life debt…” Kalen shrugged again.
“Joss…” The name seemed oddly familiar but Zujenia wasn’t entirely sure from where. She racked her brain on it for a bit as Kalen continued, half paying attention and engaged while the thought tormented her to be known. The half-ryn followed Kalen’s gesture and swiftly located the Wookiee in question. “Saving one’s life is something pretty memorable, and Wookiees are known for their honor. How did the two of you meet?”
“Oh, well we actually met on the mission where he thinks I saved his life…he took a blaster bolt in the leg from a sniper at this target we were…investigating. I guess I had jumped out of the ship and deflected a few bolts aimed at him, helped him get back to cover as our backup was arriving…its was all a bit of a blur for me, really…” his voice trailed off a bit as he tried to recall the combat at the cartel base a few weeks ago. Everything had happened so fast and his andreline levels had been so off the scales, that exact details were tough to pin down.
“Mm, I see,” Zujenia nodded in understanding. The effect adrenaline had on one’s memory and the dept or kinship found in near death experiences were well known to her, even if she has avoided such scenarios for awhile.
The slow swaying of her tail while listening halted abruptly, and she turned to the Human. “Joss. Are you, probably not, but do you know of a Torah Joss?”
Kalen laughed in excitement as this was the first time he had heard anyone utter his grandfathers name while being back in this galaxy.
“Hahaha, thats my grandfather. He helped me build my first training lightsaber when I was 5. He was the Master of our ‘temple’ I guess you could say. How do you know of my grandpa?” He said in amazement.
“Your grandfather?” Zuji echoed. She examined the man’s features and did her best guestimating his age. He looked to be in his thirties, which could mean…ah, how reliable could memories twenty year old memories be?
“I remember reading his name, when I was little. Enamored with lightsabers and awed by watching those who used them spar, my father let me read a couple tomes about their techniques. Torah did one on Form Ataru. I might have been more interested in the sketches than the text itself at the time, unfortunately.”
She paused as if considering or less certain in her recollection before continuing. “I also recall his name being one Cohn was looking into, to find him. Something about him and several others disappearing and being unaccountable since I think…I want to say around thirty BBY? If you’re his grandson, that means, he must have survived.”
Kalen was shocked. He didnt think of his father as someone who wrote tomes about Form Ataru Lightsaber techniques, or be someone whose disappearance would be remembered 73 years later. He had known of the Jedi Order as an abstract concept, one that was taught to him by his father, aunt and older cousin. And he thought of himself a student of an offshoot of the Order. He hadn’t realized though, that his grandfathers rank as a Master and station as a member of the Jedi High Council, were ‘elite’ or especially noteworthy at all. He just knew him as the kind old man who told him exciting stories about monsters and morality tales about doing the right thing. Torah Joss had died in 10 ABY, at the age of 94.
“He definitely survived…he was lost in a far off galaxy in 30 BBY but the squadron survived the trip, he died about 25 years ago…” Kalen then gave Zuji the quick version of the story, which still took a few minutes to tell.
“…and uh, yeah, only about 1000 of us survived the trip him in the belly of the space whales…but please tell me more about where I can maybe find some info about these other septs and groups of the Order that still remain? All the holovids keep mentioning how they were wiped out twice in the last half century…which in itself has me confused. How does one get wiped out twice…” Kalen chuckled again nervously, hoping he wasnt boring Zuji.
The half-Ryn woman exhaled slow. That was…a lot, and she now had a reason to sympathize with her husband’s fear of space travel. Those majestic space whales were responsible for misplacing and killing so many people? It was a wild and terrifying situation. Wrangling in her mind after that, she reflected back on his questions.
“I suppose it’s because those who practice the Force or the Jedi sect are something akin to gorgs. You may think you wiped them out, only to find a new colony had formed. That and whoever writes the history tomes controls the narrative, yes?”
She paused and looked around before gesturing to the Odan-Urr table, where she recognized a couple familiar faces or at least the symbol of the clan. “As for where to learn more about the conclaves, Odan-Urr is a good source, they are allies of mine. The Aurora Collegium likely has a vast number of resources as well. There are several other lightsiders scattered through Brotherhood space.”
“I could reach out and ask Cohn about the info on your Grandfather, if you would like? Perhaps I could get a hold of the resources he has pertaining to him? I’m not sure what more it would give you, considering you know the true history of his disappearance, but perhaps having his own works would be nice?”
“Yeah that would be great, I’m curious to hear stories about what he did before he was lost…the old timers didn’t like to talk about their lives before they were lost much…atleast they didn’t by the time i was old enough to remember. Thank you though your assistance on this would be kindly appreciated.” Kalen gave a smile a slight bow.
Marick Tyris Arconae sat beside the Headmistress, but did well to blend in with the table thanks to his white, formal Exarch robes. The former Voice was not in his element. Yes, he could remain still and stoic through any politically charged or high stress banquet, but while he seemed perfectly at ease, his too-blue eyes were flitting between every minor detail. Every diplomat, where they were positioned, what they were wearing, how far or close were they from an exit or a window.
So many things that could go wrong…but that was not his charge here. Darth Amarok and the Arconae were not needed here. He was simply here to be what was needed: the Exarch.
“Hmm.” Marick offered a quiet agreement to Alethia and Thane. He worked hard not to fidget with the fancy fork on the table. He had a wine glass, but it was filled with water.
Elsewhere–dressed in his customary concierge attire–Charon Reddick ushed in guests and made sure those who needed guiding were directed where they need to go.
The dark skinned man locked eyes with the Exarch through his dark rimmed glasses and offered a confident nod. Marick returned the gesture subtly.
“I’m happy to be able to do at least this. I, hmm,” the woman paused after a smile to his bow. Despite her usual weariness, Kalen had been an exuberant fellow and she genuinely wished to assist him in some way with his ventures. “Let’s exchange comm numbers, so if I am able to receive those things, I can get them to you.”
“Sure, sounds great, thanks for even trying, I really do appreciate it.” Kalen exchanged comm #s with her.
“Gimme a ring anytime. Don’t take this the wrong way, but I’m actually pretty happy I accidentally bumped into you now.” He chuckled.
“Likewise,” Zujenia smiled and she took her device back. “It was lovely meeting you. Perhaps we’ll get a chance to talk more over the next few days. Good meeting you, take care.”
She gave him a nod before taking her leave, roaming off to eat and attempt talking to some other people.
After the dinner and a few speeches, MC’d by a low level Dark Council underling who also dabbled in standup comedy were done; the diplomats who weren’t there for enjoyment began to depart, the Byssian cantina band that had been contracted for two 45 minute long sets struck up again, and the table began to think out as people left or began mingling again.
Kalen had decided to head back to the hotel suite and get some rest, he knew if stuck around longer Furios would be constantly trying to feed him more liqour, and Kalen did not want a repeat if the hangover he had a few weeks ago. He had to participate in his second formal event and represent House Ventress in a regional trade and economic forum.
As he stepped into the suite he was reading his datalink and noticed he had 3 recent messages that had come in during his few hours at the banquet.
They were:
*To: Ventress Delegation Group, Director of Ops Inquisitores Group, Voice Group From: High Inquisitor Klub Time sent: Day 256 of 43 ABY 0034h CST Re: Urgent Security Meeting
Fair to everyone, we have several major security concerns that have arose today. Can each delegation please send one representative to attend a meeting at our HQ at 0600h CST to discuss these concerns. There is no direct known threats, but the concerns are real and sensitive enough that a joint briefing with all delegations is needed. Thank you for your attention to this. We will send our a list of increased security measures we will be implementing within the next hour. We ask for increased diligence until the regional summit is concluded.*
Kalen thought to himself for a minute for moving on to the next message. ‘Well that sounds serious….I’m glad I dont even know who or what the Inquisitores are, that sounds like a less then enjoyable briefing.’
He had recieved some messages on his data link from them regarding intel or security threats from time to time but that was about it.
*To: Kalen Joss From: Big Guy(Furios) Re: Super Secret Mission For You
Hey Kalen, can you take care of this?
Forwarded message below*
Kalen then saw that the forwarded message was the previous one he just read. Furios was sending him to the meeting as Ventress’s representative.
“Fluff me…” Kalen said allowed as he open the door to him and character.
As Kalen took a step inside he had apparently set off a booby trap that someone had left just inside the door. The device exploded with a loud bang and a glittering explosions that shocked him nearly out of his skin and into a force ghost. Kalen staggered back reeling as his vision was filled with sparkles, he immediately pulled out and ignited his lightsaber in response and whirled around looking for threats and tried to clear his eyes with his sleave.
Security concerns indeed…someone had planted a bomb in his room.
Blackhawk happened to be stationed in the hallway around the corner when Kalen stumbled into the little surprise he’d arranged. As the Jedi rushed into the hallway, Blackhawk stepped out in front of him, chuckling alongside Spokk’s full throated laughter. “You’re actually panicking right now!? This is so much funnier than I thought it would be. Relax, Jedi. You’ll live… this time. I just needed to get you back for that little remark during our last adventure. Did I mention that Spokk here is pretty good with explosives?”
Karracca was standing behind them with a grin on his face to.
Kalens heartbeat dropped slightly, and he deactivated him lightsaber.
“You guys…Did you know about this Karra. D, did you know too?” Kalen saw D-3PO behind Karracca.
“Oh I so sorry Master Joss, but Master Karracca forbade me from mentioning ths planting of the device to you under pain of…certain appendages being forcibly removed from my frame sir.”
Kalen sighed “Hmmm…well, you all might aswell come in for drink then while I call a cleaning droid to come and get rid of…whatever this stuff is.”
“Never seen glitter before?” Blackhawk chuckled again, knowing the cleaning droids were going to have a challenge getting all of it. “A drink sounds like a good idea, considering the day we may end up having tommorow.”
“Yeah, i’ll be in meetings all day…a quick drink though, I have to be up in about 4.5 hours.” Kalen wiped some of the glitter off of his robes and tunic and lead the group into the suite.
Karracca growled a cheerful question at Spokk “So what kind of suite did they provide for you two?”
It had been a glitter bomb. As Kalens vision cleared, he noticed a bunch of small glittering particles on the floor and others still fluttering around airborne. He had never encountered or heard of such a device before. In an instant he realized with horror that this could be some new kind of chemical or biological weapon that had been invented some time after his group had been lost.
“Oh fluff…” he covered his nose and mouth with his robes and rushed out of the hotel room. When he got into the hallway he was meet with a chorus of laughter.
<@280930981983289345>
4 hours later
Kalen awoke to the sound of heavy fisted paws banging on his bedroom door and Karraccas anxious roars.
“What? Yeah, I’m awake…wha…whats going on?” Kalen said as he rose from bed and checked his chrono. It was 0546h.
“On no no no….Sith!” Kalen roared himself as he realized he was probably going to be late to the meeting Furios had told him to attend. He hadn’t set an alarm.
He ripped on his pants and a shirt, grabbed his robes and burst out of the room. What ensued was a dead sprint to the Corra III at the spaceport behind the hotel, a hot launch with zero preflight checks and a dash down to the planet. He hurriedly made communications to recieve the authorized clearances and then zoomed off at full throttle down to the Brotherhoods homeworld.
Arx, Dark Ascent, INQ HQ
Kalen had landed in the parking yard of the Inquisitorius HQ and ran into the building and asked the first person he saw where he should go for the security meeting. Luckily it was occuring in a large conference room down a corridor on the main floor.
As Kalen stopped at the door and caught he breath he saw a guard there and reported who he was, and the guard opened the door. Inside were serveral high level Inquisitors and a representative from each clan and society. Kalen only recognized 1 or 2 of the faces.
High Inquisitor Klub spoke “Ah, the honoured representative from Clan Plaguies has saw fit to grace us with his presence. Enter, sit please.” It was obvious that he was running the briefing, and words were sinister. Kalen quickly took a seat at the large conference table.
“Kalen sorry about that, slept in by mistake.” Kalen said sheepishly as he got a few dirty looks from around the room.
Klub sighed as the guard closed the door. “So, we have you all here to brief you on several sensitive security threats that arose. We have alot of press both here and up on Arx Minor covering the summit that is going on. A few incidents have even made it onto the holonews.”
Klub clicked a button on a device concealed in his hand. What played was the holo newscast of Furios face planting behind a news reporter that looked very much like Kalen. And had a very similar name.
“This video alone has recieved upwards of 3 trillion views as of about an hour ago. Accordingly, due to the fact this incident could imply weaknesses in our aerospace security around the Envoy HQ. We will be doubling security patrols and adding anti air missiles teams on the top of several structures both here and on Arx Minor. We have Clan Plaguies to thank for this… All unidentified intruders will be shot down, so there will be no more cavalier piloting around our sensitive facilities.” Klub stared right at Kalen as he said this, considering Klub had heard in his earpiece about Kalens quick launch and rapid trip down to this very meeting.
“Uh, sorry.” Kalen recieved several more dirty looks from around the room.
Klub continued “Also, we have reliable intel that suggests there will be an assassination attempt made on one of the ceo’s of one of the megacorps. The Intel did not provide specifics. Furthermore reports of high end illicit drugs in customs seizures and unrelated arrests has increased by 359% in the past 2 days, so there will likely be several major stings that occur both today and tomorrow. This kind of thing will draw negative attention to us and this region of space in general, so we must do it in a way that the press will not catch on to…”
Marick blinked once at the information. No other reaction seemed to register on his expression. He turned and whispered to the Headmistress, seated beside him for this meeting.
“Aren’t you glad to be back?” he said tonelessly, but he was more at ease than usual with the white haired woman next to him.
From a nearby table, being as the Councillors and Tribunes needed a More Important center stage table, the OG white haired woman by Marick’s side waved cheerfully at him. Almost as if sensing that he had turned to whisper to his friend. Beside her, their nine and three year olds sat quite properly, Weyne very quiet and focused on arranging his food symmetrically while his sister was explaining to some politician exactly what he was doing wrong in the world and advising him on how to repair his soul and the yams.
Some random person began looking back and forth from his datalink to Kalen and eventually said “Wait wait wait…the reporter from the Holonews vid you just showed us….isn’t that him right there.”
He was pointing right at Kalen. The cold glares of nearly everyone in the room aside from the children were soon looking right at him.
“I suspected the same thing myself earlier…but, we have Mr. Koss, the reporter from the newscast in custody in kne of our cells downstairs.” Klub said as he clicked another button on his hand held remote control. The middle of the large desk was over shadowed by a security cam holo of Mr. Jalen Koss sitting on a bench 5 floors below where they were all sitting.
“Apparently Mr….Joss is it? Has a doppelganger.” Another person in the room said.
“Hmmm, yes, quite apparently” he closed down the holocam footage and spoke into his commlink, telling the guards to release Mr. Koss with a warning about filming in restricted areas.
“I dunno what you all are on about, that guy doesnt look anything like me” He was in fact, identical to Kalen.
“I have a way different jaw and hairline” He didnt.
Klub sighed and continued the briefing.
Marick patted his wife on the leg, then shifted his gaze to his children, who were surprisingly behaved and not bored it seemed. He made a mental note. Maybe there was hope for them both to avoid leading the type of life he had. One of war, strife, death, loss. Bring-your-kids-to-work day was different when you worked for the Council, and typically didn’t involve your spouse. But Atyiru had insisted. And there was very little he–or anyone–could do stop the woman from going where she wanted.
His attention shifted back to the exchange. He had noticed the differences in the “imposter” but was only here for training purposes instead of action.
Klub cleared his throat and continued. Considering he had several drug dealers to interrogate and figure out which cartel they were with this time, a mountain of authorizations to authorize, agents to deploy and a host of other things to do, this meeting had been an unwelcome addition to his busy schedule as it was.
“All of these issues have forced us to raise the threat level to…” Klub continued rambling on about elevated security levels and heightened intelligence gathering, increased undercover patrols etc for the reminder of the summit.
A few hours later
That day had been one of the busiest days of the week long summit for Kalen and that was before he was called to the meeting at the Ascent.
First he went to meet a sales rep and estimator from SFC(Selonia Fabrication Corporation). Ostensibly his orders were to act as the number 2 for a Mr. Grilzan Breesh, Chief Procurement Officer for Hyperdyne Construction Ltd.
The task was seemingly simple. Sign a deal for an omnibus order of construction and building material along with several dozen prefabricated structures.
Kalens covert orders from Tahiri pertaining to this task however, were simple. Get the deal signed, the order placed and don’t exceed a budget of 6.2 million credits.
“So yeah we’ve got everything included in the estimate here. All the stuff for the domes, the infrastructure, the materiale handling equipment, the pipes and tubing, the durasteel and duraplast molds…the one thing one oof our engineers noted was you guys are ordering the components for the large level 4 upper atmospheric repulsor barge, we could actually prefab that for you and ship it to you already intact if you want, oh, and the plasma exchanger units you’re ordering, there is actually a newer model available as of a few weeks ago, its a bit more expensive, but our field reviews on them so far have been really good, the newer types are a much more robust and reliable machine.”
“Sounds reasonable, got a price if we made those 2 changes to the order?” Breesh said.
“Yeah, I think we wo have a modified estimate with those additions.” Of course the sales rep had a revised estimate, he wouldn’t have mentioned the things if he wasn’t trying to upsell the customer.
“That brings the price from 5.9 and change up to 6.37 million.” The sales rep pulled up the page on his link and slid it across the table to Kalen and Breesh.
Kalen said “If you can make that 6.1 million on the nose I think we have a deal. There’s no need to grind us on the price you think?”
He did a slight wave of the hand under the table as he said the last bit.
“You know…I think we have enough room to make that work. You’re valued customers of ours, no need to chizzle you on the pricetag. Its a deal” They hands were shaken and contract was signed. In a few months the equipment and materials ordered would begin to be shipped to Hyperdyne’s transit yard in the San'Dag system.
With that, Kalen headed off to his next meeting at the weapons exhibition and trade show where he was tasked with negotiating a deal to buy several thousand new blaster rifles. This time his orders stated he’d be acting as an agent of Hyperdyne Tactical Inc.
Meanwhile, 14th floor, nearby hotel
The young blue tattoed Zabrak atared out of the window that he would eventually take the fateful sniper shot through 3 days hence.
“My honor will be secure…” he muttered.
4.5 days later
The rest of the summit occurred seemingly without incident, though much occured behind closed doors. The Arx Capital Exchange being one of then premier sponsors of the entire event was hosting a parade on the penultimate day of the regional event. Up on the rostrum sat several dozens of heads of state/planet, diplomats, megacorp CEOs and hangers on galor.
Kalen and Karracca both sat on one of the lower rows of a large set of bleachers to the side of the rostrum. Diplomatic staff, megacorp delegates, and Brotherhood dignitaries made up the bulk of those seated in bench style bleachers.
The Selonia Fabrication Corporation CEO and chairman was making a speech to the thousands lining the avenues of one of the main thoroughfairs on Arx near the central stock exchange.
“…We thank them all for their hospitality. The treatment we have recieved the past week has been top rate, and we look fo…” At that moment a heavy calibre blaster bolt ripped past the construction magnates head and struck an unsuspecting Sullustan(who was on the board of SoroSuub Exports Inc) right in the left foot nearly blowing it completely off.
“Mudika HAA deyab deyab…Ahhh!” The Sullustan wailed as he fell out of his chair on the rostrum clutching the stump of roasted flesh which used to be his foot.
Pandemonium, panic and perfidy thus ensued at a prodigous pace for the next hour or so, right in the heart of the Brotherhood.
“Are you just going to stand there watching like a voyeur, or are you going to help?”
The words were wasted, truly, a caustic and rhetoric expense of unnecessary air, capped with a grunt of effort and another brutal shove of flesh on flesh. On the other side of the lavish bed and strewn sheets, their partner for the evening barely bothered to feign a yawn, giving up halfway through instead to shuffle her birdlike corpse bones over to the wide, low-backed plush chair in the corner, an unlit lamp situated behind it, and dumped their scrawny ass down in it and what might have been, to some, the preeminent sapphic sprawl of a specific selection of holozines, with her arms and legs spread wide in a domineering lounge. One leg, slowly, crossed over the other as she reclined further back and flicked her skeletal fingers in a go on then, gesture, to which her companion only glared.
“You make a not boorish point for once. I will sit and voyeur.”
“You look like a cheap mannequin unfortunate enough to live.”
Iphis’ thin lips showed teeth, even if it did come with tonguing them when Imopea shoved yet again and this time a damp, squelching crack accompanied it.
“So who do you think is next in line for the Throne? I would find the Headmistress direly amusing. She could even keep the little wolf pup as a side piece.”
“The depths to which I do not care about your politics–” the faux-Shani hissed again, sweat starting to bead on their feather-crested brow, and finally gave up, letting off the thick leg they were riding. “–are far deeper than you will ever be in a woman with a heartbeat. You know, this is your job too, and this would go much more quickly with two people for leverage.”
A femur wasn’t going to snap itself into six piece with just her mass and the fulcrum of one lousy nightstand, after all. Not in an adult male Human of some generic look and decades-past relevancy still snorting his own power.
- Not that it had kept him from having his throat and groin slit.
“Mmmm. No. Say, bounce around a bit more, it was almost entertaining to watch.”
With a dead-flat stare, the ‘Shani’ finally just stuck out one arm, allowing putrid power to ripple through the limb and her flesh and bones to crack just like the corpse’s. Her arm surged into thrice its size, knobby joints, two clawed fingers and a rear digit, massive muscle and thick skin. The rancor limb grabbed the faceless body and crunched, all his broken and not so broken bits crumpling in her grip and being summarily shoved into the large suitcase she had been working slowly and methodically to fold him into for the last half hour.
Some viscera splashed across Iphis’ face, and she giggled, swiping her tongue across the gore.
“Oh, dinner and a show? Do that again, but harder.”
“Keep talking, and I will wear your face and go down to that gala, find dear daddy who doesn’t pay attention to you, One or Two, in fact, and ask to suck their shriveled ‘lightsabers.’”
It wouldn’t be a perfect imitation; she simply didn’t have the metal alloys in her body such that, even if she did pull back her flesh and manipulate a still-working skeletal arm, agony aside, she wouldn’t be able to convincingly plate its entirety in gold. Not even if she ate all the jewelry she was wearing now. The surface area exceeded the available material.
But she could wear sleeves, and it was tempting.
The microscopic smirk vanished off of the Lyctor’s face, and she instead sucked her teeth at Imopea, like the dressed up cur she was.
“Hurry along now, gal pal, or we’ll be late.”
- The Changeling finished closing the hefty case, contorted remains secure and with no oozing yet, and made a sound of satisfaction. Right on through the doors and out to a speeder, no pedestrian clogging up trash chutes or leaving discoveries for cleaning staff.
“This wine had best be worth it.”
“Oh, please. As if you didn’t enjoy that.”
“Not nearly so much as you.”
Their voices trailed off down the gilted hall and into the night.
Blackhawk reached out with the Force. Locating the sniper was the work of mere moments. “There. About a dozen or so floors up.” Blackhawk pointed at a building. “They’ll want him alive.” Spokk roared his understanding. Blackhawk took off, his jetpack propelling him rapidly towards the designated building. Spokk also took off, altering gravity itself to pull him directly into the side of the building. The sniper saw both of them of course. How could he not? Two beings suddenly taking flight wasn’t something one saw everyday. Even worse, they both appeared to be heading directly for him. The Zabrak wasn’t stupid enough to waste time trying to shoot them. It’d be a somewhat difficult shot to make anyway, and their armor was clearly blaster resistant.
Spokk was headed rapidly up the side of the building. Blackhawk was already high enough up the building to see the Zabrak attempting to flee. “Go on low and cut him off.” Blackhawk ordered. The Clawdite entered the building via the window the sniper used just as the would be assassin got to the door of the room. Spokk pulled a lightsaber and slashed out a tenth floor window and entered that way. He rapidly made his way to the stairwell and simply ignored the stairs, opting instead to float up the floors between him and the sniper’s position. The Zabrak entered the stairwell only to find the 8 foot tall Wookie floating in front of him. He turned to run down the hallway, hoping the elevator would lead to his escape. No such luck . “Enough running.” Blackhawk stated definitely. He reached out and grabbed the sniper with the Force, pulling him back towards himself. The Zabrak turned and attempted a roundhouse kick at the Clawdite’s head. Blackhawk ducked, avoiding the blow. Spokk came up behind the Zabrak and threw him down the hallway. The Zabrak blinked, blinked again, and finally realized that the Clawdite whom he’d flown passed when the Wookie threw him was now standing directly over him. Blackhawk picked him up with the Force and sent him flying back into the room from where he’d taken the shot. The would be assassin ran for the broken window and leapt. But gravity never took affect. He floated there, hanging outside the window. Blackhawk was standing behind him, arm outstretched, holding the assassin suspended in the air. “I’d have let you fall, but I’m willing to bet security will want you alive.”