Session export: Prepare for Trouble
Despite the pain, Adele kept her head held high. Even though the hour was late, the labyrinthine hallways of her family home, which doubled as the headquarters of her family’s criminal syndicate, bustled with activity.
No one got in her way as she made her way to the great set of double doors of the cavernous meeting room where her father held court over his capos. She could hear the rumble of voices from behind the doors. It sounded like everyone was in attendance. Well. Almost everyone.
The doors felt unusually heavy as she pushed them open. As she stepped into the cavernous room, she tapped a small amount of Force energy to push the pain away, allowing her movements to become more fluid. If what she’d heard was true, then she’d been barely alive when her escape pod had been brought in. No wonder some of the people present looked like they’d seen a ghost.
Adele could not bring herself to look at the two empty seats near the foot of the table. Instead, she stared down each of the capos in turn, her gaze impassive. No doubt more than one of them would see her failure as an opportunity to advance their own position within the Cartel. She would not appear weak before them, and especially not in front of her father.
He was the only one who did not turn to gawk at her appearance. Instead, he stood with his back turned to the doors and table, hands clasped behind his broad back, gaze directed out the massive blast-proof windows that dominated the western wall. A pregnant silence fell over the room as everyone waited for Darius Valreyes to speak.
“Leave.”
The temperature dropped a few degrees with that single word. Adele felt a chill go up her own spine. She’d messed up, and had fully expected to be chewed out in front of everyone. She’d seen it happen to her brother so many times, She’d had an idea of what to expect. When Darius’s temper was fiery, things were safer because it was more predictable. But when his demeanor was icy, things became more dangerous.
The assembled capos knew this too. They departed, each trying in their own way to avoid looking like they were fleeing. Only Adele remained, her back straight and her heart pounding, but her face an emotionless mask as she prepared for anything.
Only after the doors thudded shut did Sarius turn to resume his place at the head of the table. He studied her coldly as he gestured toward the seat at his left. The one reserved for his second-in-command, the position she had only recently ascended to.
“Such incompetence isn’t like you,” he said at last, after she had taken the indicated seat.
Perhaps it was a good thing she was sitting down. His words, spoken so matter-of-factly, felt like a punch to the gut. She was more used to receiving faint praise.
But Adele could only avert her eyes. It wasn’t like she could deny that she’d messed up. “Forgive me, father.”
“There were some that proposed I remove you from your position as my second.” Adele’s cheeks flushed red as she felt a spike of rage. She pressed her lips together as her father continued. “They cited your inexperience, your youth, your lack of judgement.”
This time, Adele could not bring herself to even respond. Memories flitted through her mind. Fire. Blood. Split second decisions. She thought she had chosen right but… well… everyone was dead now. Her whole crew. Everyone but her.
“I don’t think you understand how dire this is.” Darius leaned back in his chair, his eyes narrowing slightly. “This war has weakened us. Your brother publicly undermined my authority. And now this. The men are now questioning your leadership, and my judgement. This is how coups start.”
“I…. I’ll find a way to make it right.”
There had to be a way. A show of strength that would be sufficient to convince the men that neither her father nor herself were to be questioned or trifled with. To eliminate any questions of weakness.
“I know you will.” Darius gave her one of her rare smiles. It was a wan, tired thing that looked strange on his craggy face. But it was a smile nonetheless. “Insubordination grows like a weed. It needs to be destroyed by its very roots. So to do that, you are going to kill your brother.”
Port Ol'val 43 ABY
The Blind Man’s one limitation seemed to be that they were isolated to the Dajorra system. It was whispered that if they had tried to push outward into Hutt territory, their influence could easily expand and become a real threat. And yet, their dealings never seemed to reach beyond this system.
Which also meant their domain was strongest on their home turf.
The streets of Port Ol’Val were bustling with life and fervor. Merchants, drifters, smugglers, and patrons moved through the asteroids interior feeding into the Selen subsidiaries economy. If ever there was a place to hide amongst the dregs of the galaxy, it was here. And it was here that the “prince” of the Ember Flame crime syndicate was waiting to finally meet his contact.
Anselm Valreyes was a tall, athletic looking man with piercing purple eyes and honey-blonde hair. What most people found remarkable about him was the ring of gold that orbited his pupils. He wore an old-looking cloak overtop his uniform to keep from being too obvious as to who he was as he sat and drank a cup of tea.
The beverage was nowhere near the level he was used to. It wasn’t bad per se, but he had been raised partially by his uncle, a man with a fondness for rare and delectable tea’s. His whole life he had hated the constant talk of tea leaves, steeping times, and spices, but right now those memories brought a smile to his face.
“Anselm, life is like a bag of tea. It cannot be rushed. It cannot be forced into submission. It requires time and care. You must let it steep and brew to find its true beauty and potential. You have so much more potential than you think. You are more than just your father’s son.”
Those words had played in his head repeatedly. Thoughts of his life with his sister, and their years of brutal training could never be fully overshadowed though. She was born lucky. She had the temperament, the innate skill, the brutality that their father craved. He was lucky to be born. He had the raw power within him that burned like dragon-fire, but he did not have a natural killer instinct and temperament. He was a disappointment.
And then his father went and planned this move. Getting into bed with slavers… Their syndicate was supposed to have honor. This was wrong, and Anselm had loudly said so in front of his father…his sister…and the other leaders of the criminal enterprise. He had never seen such wrathful anger on his father’s face. If looks could kill, he’d have been dead several times over.
And then Adele took on the job. He couldn’t stop her. She was bound by her need to prove herself to their father. She couldn’t see the truth in front of her, or the darkness such a path would inflict on their souls. But he could, he wanted to keep his honor.
So here he was, sitting in a tea shop located in a port controlled by a rival cartel. The Blind Man’s syndicate. He’d never met this Blind Man and had no clue what they looked like. He had only the message on his data pad to lead him. Coordinates…a message that said “You won’t find me. I’ll find you.” and an image of a bleeding eye. He didn’t know that he could trust this man, but he needed to get away from his father. What other choice did he have.
One moment, Anselm was sitting by himself at the side table— third from the back to the left of the bar as instructed—and the next, a man in a white suit was sitting across from him, legs crossed, reclining back in the chair.
The “Blind Man” looked to be a human of indeterminable age with smooth skin and slicked back, stark white hair that matched his suit. His eyes were a vibrant shade of green that seemed to change or shift in hue depending on what angle you were looking at him. He a black button down beneath the suit and a purple tie around his neck. He seemed to carry no weapons that were visible, which seemed strange.
There was also no guards, bouncers, or attendants. He was simply sitting there.
“Prince Valreyes,” a light voice said, carrying easily to Anselm’s ears without somehow fighting the din of the establishment’s ambiance. “To what does Port Ol'val owe the honor of your visit?”
Looking over the nicely dressed individual, Anselm felt several emotions and thoughts running through his brain. Surprised as he was, he couldn’t help but speak the first out loud.
“Huh, so the Blind Man isn’t that blind at all. Interesting theatrics.”
The embers of his power steadily burned inside of him, ready to be released at a moments notice if this turned out to be a trap. Drinking another sip of his tea he did his best to play the unbothered prince.
The Blind Man grinned lazily and stretched out like a loth cat.
“Please. I’ve seen how your father conducts business. Everything, all of it, is a performance. I’m at least self-aware of it.”
He sat up straight in the booth. “So, what brings you to my shadow port? I regret to inform you we aren’t big on slave trading…”
Anselm’s eyes darkened at thw mention of his father, and even moreso at the insinuation of his involvement with that business decision. The air around his clenched fists began to distort from the heat they emanated.
“I had nothing to do with that decision. In fact I spoke out against it quite passionately. There is no honor in forced servitude.”
Taking a deep breath, and another drink of his tea, he turned his eyes to lock in with the other man.
“I am looking to escape my fathers dominion. Your enterprise seemed to match my own point of view. So I ask for sanctuary in return for my services rendered.”
There was no response on the Blind Mans face at the offer, no overt change. The smile was natural, unchanging. There was no hint or tell to his stance or position. That in itself was a tell. They were good.
“Sanctuary, you say,” the Blind Man mused that over, tapping the table idly with a slender finger in a metronome. “I suppose that could be arranged. What does Darius’ second-in-command think about this. Your sister, if I’m not mistaken?”
The mention of his sister brought up a protective instinct within him. It also fueled a small amount of jealousy, and his purple eyes seemed to almost erupt into flames as he kept the gaze of the Blind Man. Adele was the only chink in his armor. The only pause he had in this endeavor.
“She… doesn’t know that I’m here. I told her nothing of this plan. I love her and I want nothing more than to keep her safe, but Darius has his claws in too deep. I fear she couldn’t refuse any order he gave her, even if she knew it was wrong.” His voice betrayed his attempts at stoicism. His sister had always been a weak spot for him.
Adele closed her eyes tightly as she tossed back the clear alcohol, downing the burning liquid in a single swallow. She felt it trace a fiery trail to her stomach. Her abdominal muscles clenched, and her throat tightened, but she managed to keep the alcohol down.
She was still healing. The Force augmented the speed at which she recovered from her wounds and ensured she could move around. But the pain was replaced by stiffness and a dull ache. No doubt the fact that her mouth was dry and her stomach churned was due to her injuries.
“This is utterly ridiculous,” Chazhao grumbled from the stool next to her. “You wasted thirty minutes selecting your weapons and now this foolishness. Do you hope that if you wait long enough, the prince will die of old age?”
Adele gave the older Devaronian a glare out of the corner of her eye as she contemplated another shot. “In case you forgot, my brother can light things on fire with his mind. I’m going to need to keep my wits about me, given my weak powers.”
“Well, at this rate you’ll have booze leaking out your pores. That’ll go fantastic in a fight against the firebug,” Chazhao said with a smirk.
Adele slammed her fist down upon the bar inches from his hand, with enough Force-added strength that it would have shattered his bones. “He may be condemned to die, but he’s still your prince. Show respect.” Her voice was a dangerous undertone.
“Fine. Of course” Chazhao had the grace to sound a bit chagrined. “I just don’t think your father would approve of these unnecessary delays. Everything I did was to help ensure the cartel’s survival.”
“And you think I don’t?” Adele finally turned to fully face Chazhao. “My brother may have the luxury of his morals, but someone has to stay and hold everything together.”
The Devaronian tsked quietly under his breath. “You’re acting as if I intentionally sabotaged the mission. I remind you that I warned you about the slave pens….”
Out of the corner of her eye, Adele realized that the bartender was watching her warily. Though she had tried to keep her voice down, it would not do to attract undue attention. Not until after….
She put the thought of what she had to do out of her mind and tossed some credit chips onto the bar. Enough to cover the tab with a bit of a tab, but not extravagant enough to cause notice.
“My only regret,” she hissed at the Devaronian, “is that I didn’t get more time to kill you.”
Adele turned on her heel to stride out without waiting for a response. Despite her quick pace, she still caught sight of the three blaster wounds that were burned into the back of the Devaronian’s skull. His was the only death from the incident that she did not regret.
But the ghost had been right. She could not delay finding her brother any longer. Once she reached the street, she turned down side streets seemingly at random, until she found one that seemed deserted. Then she closed her eyes and extended her senses…
The “boy” was easy to read. The intel hadn’t been too hard to ascertain, and while he hated using the data to manipulate someone genuinely well meaning, this was part of what had to be done.
“I see,” the Blind Man steppeld his fingers then continued to drum them idly on the table. “Alright, you have my interest piqued. Perhaps we can aide one another. However, you will need to work on convincing her to join us as well, because…”
He trailed off, as if hearing a noise far in the distance. But it was no noise, but a clear ripple and disturbance in the Force.
“Speak of the devil…” the Blind Man murmured.
Gradually, she began to see faint lights against the darkness of her closed eyes. They were all around her. Reds, blues, greens, some as brilliant as a sun while others were no brighter than a candle flame. There was one that was brighter than the rest. That brilliant violet flame edged with gold. She would recognize it anywhere. He was four… no, about five blocks away.
Her heart sank. She’d been half hoping he wouldn’t be here.
When Adele opened her eyes once more, the lights remained. She could see them even through the rough stone walls that lined the alleyway. She picked a direction, and began to walk.
“Stop, Adele, please! You know you don’t have to do this.”
She froze, her heart sinking at the familiar voice. Though she and Anselm had been inseparable when growing up, they had other friends.
Adele turned to see Tairia standing a few feet behind her. The slender girl had always favored pink, but her once pretty clothes were not burned and bloodied. Her face was a mess of bruises and cuts. It was a wonder she could talk through her broken jaw.
“I have to,” Adele replied roughly. “You know I have to.”
“You’re being stupid.” May was the only one, other than her brother, who’d been brave enough to talk to her like that. She too, bore grievous injuries. The left half of her face was badly burned, revealing scorched bone underneath. The right half of her face held her usual dour scowl. She stood in front of her, blocking her path.
Adele pursed her lips. “You know what my brother is like. He will never give up on us in favor of his precious morals. He will never stop fighting for them. He’s already turned his back on us. On me. His being here is proof of that!”
“Maybe you just don’t understand what’s going on?” Tairia suggested.
Adele laughed wryly. “Ever the peacemaker. Besides, it doesn’t matter. Even if I were to abandon this mission, Father would just send others. Worse people. My brother deserves better than that.”
“Oh, well, so long as you have noble intentions,” May replied, her voice laden with sarcasm.
“Noble? No. You two of all people know how many lines I’ve already crossed to get here. So what’s one more?”
“But… you’ve never won against him when you sparred. Not a single time.”
Adele grit her teeth. “Well. There’s a first time for everything.”
It was clear that this conversation would carry on for awhile, and Adele was in no mood to have it. The distant lights flickered as she drew once more of the Force and vanished from between the two women, only to appear several feet from her position.
She did not look back at her former friends. Instead, she began taking the circuitous path through narrow streets, making her way toward that bright violet flame.
It flickered within a tea shop. Because of course he would be there. Their ‘Uncle’ had become more of an influence in his life, so it seemed only natural that he would choose to hole up in a such a place.
Adele pulled her hood low over her eyes as she lingered across the street. She could not actually see him through the windows, but she could see enough to know that the place was not crowded. Hopefully, the people who were inside would be smart enough not to interfere. She was well aware that Port Ol'val belonged to the shadowy Blindman, and she wanted no more trouble with him than she was already inviting.
Her feet felt leaden. Crossing the street felt like she was swimming against a strong current. It took both an eternity, and no time at all.
She opened the door and pushed inside.
At the Blind Man’s words Anselm froze. He felt her. She couldn’t be here now, could she? Time seemed to slow for the young “prince” and he turned his head to face the cloaked individual who just walked into the tea shop. His eyes me hers, and their familiar connection felt hot within his chest. They had always been close. Two halves of a whole. Two sides of the same coin. The only division between them had been caused by Darius, their father, who treated their lives as constant competition for his approval. Anselm no longer craved it, by Adele seemed addicted to it.
The look in her eyes is what caught his interest the most. He saw anger…pain…conflict. But most of all, he saw fierce determination. As their gaze locked in this stilled moment he could feel it, what she wanted, or rather what she had to do. What she’d been ordered to do. He really should have expected it. Darius was never one to let anyone disrespect him, especially in front of his followers. In his father’s eyes, Anselm’s life was forfeit the moment he refused to take part in the slave trade mission. It was his final disappointment.
“So, he sent you to kill me.” His words were not spoken, but a message sent between the twins through the Force. They’d always been able to talk like this with each other. Their close bonds. “Are we really going to do this, Adele? You’re going to kill me…for him?”
Her characteristic fierce determination was there, but it was like a thin layer of ice rather than its usual wall. Beneath churned emotion. Rage, pain, grief, sadness, despair, emotions as dark as the deepest ocean all churned within her, held in check only by strength of will alone. It seemed that Anselm had been quite correct about the darkness that their cartel’s new activities would inflict upon the soul.
When their eyes met, it was accompanied by a stab of pain more agonizing than the shrapnel that had pierced her body… what? Only a few days ago? Part of her wanted to run up and hug him. She savagely shoved that impulse down. He had left her. He had started talking to others outside the Cartel without telling her. He had abandoned her. Chosen honor instead of her. He had made his choice.
Yes, he sent me, was the only reply that came through their link.
She took a deep, steadying breath. Violet eyes flicked around the tea shop, taking in the white haired man that Anselm was sitting with, the employees and other patrons. Measuring. Strategizing. Finally, apparently, coming to a conclusion.
Her hands remained relaxed at her sides as she crossed the length of the room to approach their table. As a result of years of brutal sparring against one another, Anselm would know where she kept her weapons sheathed, yet she did not reach for any of them.
“Excuse me,” she said with a stiff formality to the white haired man, before settling into a chair. She gave Anselm a critical look. “You’ve been skipping meals again. You shouldn’t do that.”
Anselm couldn’t help smiling at her concern for his well being, even if it seemed strange given the current situation. He looked her over and raised an eyebrow her way.
“Well, sweet sister of mine, you should take your own advice. You’re looking a bit worn down yourself.”
He wouldnt hide to tone of concern in his last statement. No matter what else, he loved his sister. She was his only real family, aside from their uncle.
A ghost of a smile flitted across her face at the all too familiar back and forth. “I’ve consumed calories recently,” she replied. Surely alcohol had more calories than tea.
But that pale smile vanished almost as quickly as it appeared. Any element of surprise was utterly gone. She should have counted on the fact that her brother would sense her as soon as she got near. Plus, there was the issue of the strange, smiling white-haired man. Given the rumors, there was a strong likelihood that he was a member of the Blind Man’s cartel. Things were just getting better and better.
How to proceed? Beginning another conflict with a different Cartel would be… ill-advised. Which limited her options significantly.
“I apologize for interrupting. But my brother and I have urgent business to attend to,” she said, turning her attention briefly to her brother’s companion. “We have things we must… discuss.”
And perhaps such a discussion would buy her time to figure out how to do what she had come here to do.
The Blind Man quirked a perfectly trimmed eyebrow. “Oh? Well, what a coincidence, we were just having a discussion of our own. Did you want to join us? We were actually just talking about your father, actually.”
There wasn’t any mocking in the tone, but there was a bit of…playfulness? Probing, perhaps, as he studied her reactions.
Anselm moved his hand, and a chair slid out for Adele to take a seat. He passed over newly placed cup of tea.
“Are you really?” The look she shot her brother was sharp enough to cut flesh. Still, she sat down in the proffered seat after another wary glance around. The tea, however, was ignored.
“In that case, I would love to hear what you have to say, Mr….?”
“…Man. Blind Man, if you would,” he bowed his head politely, then leaned back. He did not have a drink in front of him.
“Ah.”
The picture was becoming clearer by the moment. Her brother had fled the Ember Crown, and had been communicating with members within the Blind Man’s Cartel. Father had informed her of that much. No cartel would shelter a fugitive from another out of the goodness of their hearts. Doubtless he was seeking sanctuary in exchange for… what? Intel?
“You don’t waste time, do you?” she said to Anselm as she pushed the tea away, toward the center of the table.
“In his defense, very little goes on in Dajorra that isn’t filtered back to me in some way,” the Blind Man explained.
“He should not have been in the Dajorra system in the first place,” Adele replied. “At any rate. I’d say it’s a pleasure to meet you, but, well, given the circumstances…” she shrugged.
“I told our father that I wouldn’t be part of his new enterprise. I refuse to continue burning my soul for his greed and hunger for power.” He gave her a hard look, while filled with familial affection, there was also anger. “People are not cattle to be sold to the highest bitter, Adele. We are better than that. At least I hoped we’d be better than that.”
His voice trailed off, leaving somethings unspoken. He couldn’t bring himself to directly insult her for her actions.
“I couldn’t live under his thumb any longer. And I couldn’t ask you to turn against our father. I love you, Adele. I want you with me. But I can’t make decisions like that for you. I won’t take away your choices. Even if I disagree with them.”
His words stabbed her in her heart, twin daggers of grief and anger. Once again, he was arguing based on his emotions. His honor. Unfortunately, she did not have such luxury.
“Yes, brother. You’ve made yourself abundantly clear,” she replied. Her voice was almost a monotone. “I won’t bother to appeal to your sense of duty or family, as you clearly value your honor more. That’s your prerogative.”
He really couldn’t see. In speaking out the way he had, he HAD removed her choices. Had he the good sense to hold his tongue when their father had first proposed his plan in front of them and all their capos, it would have given them the chance to appeal to him privately. But in publicly disagreeing with him, her brother had ensured that her father would NEVER change course. It would be seen as weakness, to bend to the demands of an underling.
And then he’d fled. He hadn’t even told her he was leaving. Not that she was certain she would have gone with him. But…
She shook her head to avoid going down that particular path.
“I won’t air dirty laundry in front of your new friend, brother,” she said. Even now, looking him in the eye, she couldn’t bring herself to say his name. Saying it would make what she had to do that much more difficult. “We have already taken up enough of his time.”
“Politely, Ms. Valreyes, I would have to disagree. Honor aside, the slave trade is something even the Hutts have been backing off from.” He paused for timing before continuing. “Times being what they are.”
He idly tapped the table with his fingertips, silently drumming them. “In fact, only those that were desperate, to begin with, would engage in it, in this econmy. Trafficing will always be around in one way or another, of course- good and bad. The galaxy is far too grayscale of a place to pretend otherwise. But as I was just telling your brother, Port Ol'val profits without resorting to that sort of business. It’s often hard to see the full size of the castle from inside it, but Ember Crown wouldn’t last a minute in Hutt Space.”
He steepled his fingers calmly, keeping eye contact with the violet eyed woman specifically.
She took a deep breath through her nose and leaned back in her chair. “It’s not my place to debate my father’s decisions on the matter. You of all people should understand that a group is only as strong as the bonds that hold them together. The Ember Crown is held together by duty and loyalty. It would'nt last long if each member cut and run the moment things got… inconvenient for them.”
She gave her brother a cutting glance once more.
“As for our ability to survive in Hutt space,” she smiled, but it held a jagged edge, “I suppose we shall have to see.”
“I suppose we will. In the interest of transparency, because I do respect you both for coming, I will say it was fairly easy to convince one of your men to feed me information ahead of this meeting. Cenric was fairly forthcoming. So, while I respect your faith in those bonds- everyone has a price and a breaking point.”
When he said the last part, however, there was no bravado or arrogance. It was a calm, subdued spoken word, as if the words themselves were simple facts.
Adele paused, studying thr Blind Man for a long moment. Finally she sighed. “Well. That is most unfortunate. I do appreciate your candor, though.”
As her father’s second in command, it was also her duty to deal with traitors. They did occasionally crop up. And so she would deal with Cenric when she returned. In the back of her mind, though, a niggling thought occurred to her. Why would the Blind Man tell her this?
“Such a shame. But, as we have already discussed, not everyone values loyalty.”
“Why are you loyal to him? What has he done to earn that loyalty other than demand it and punish us for failing to live up to his standards. It took me too long to understand. He doesn’t love us. He doesn’t respect us. All we are to him are weapons to mold, sharpen and wield when he deems it necessary.”
Anselm looked his sister in her eyes, their twin souls almost connecting as he did so. He began to remember moments of their lives. Children playing together, training together, mending eachothers wounds when their father punished them. And a dream they shared. The ship they always wanted to buy and sail the cosmos, free from the Ember Crown.
“This could be our chance. Our opportunity to be true to ourselves. To be who we want to be. To be loyal to our hopes and dreams.”
Adele took another slow deep breath. But her brother’s appeals set a flame to the emotions she had been keeping carefully distant.
She whipped around and fixed him with a glare, the Blind Man temporarily forgotten.
“Why am I loyal? How can you even ask that? Neither of us would even be here if it weren’t for him. Who taught you that honor you value so much, before Uncle came along and karked with your priorities? He was hard on us because the galaxy is hard. To survive and thrive you have to be strong. You know this.”
Adele balled her hands into fists. “And what’s this ‘we’ nonsense? You have never bothered to keep your emotions under control. You were ALWAYS true to yourself. He was hard on you because you were the one he wanted even though you two fought all the time. The male child with the flashy powers to be his strong successor. But you couldn’t even be bothered to put in a fraction of effort, so I had to hold things together. And I continued to do so, even after you left.”
And just like that, the anger was spent. She found herself standing, clutching the table with both hands so tightly that her knuckles where white. She sank back into her chair.
In the ashes of her rage, two realizations remained. The first was that she still loved him. Despite everything, he was still her brother. They had shared too much for her to just throw all that away. The galaxy would be too dark of a place without him.
The second was that she could not bring herself to kill him. She’d fail her father once more. Yet another failure.
She sighed and reached into her pocket to pull out a cred card and dropped it in front of her brother. “It’s the ship money. Take it and run. Father will simply have to settle for the child he deserves.”
The Blind Man followed the conversation mutely, but did raise a hand. “He won’t need any if he joins us. Our organization is…unique when it comes to knowledge of the Force. It is not merely a tool for us, but a part of our life. The whole system probably heard your little sibling-sense off. You both have raw power but lack control. ”
And with that, the image of the Blind Man simply…vanished. No gust of wind, smoke, or flicker of light. He simply faded away until the chair was empty.
Then a dark haired man appeared from the other side of the bar and walked over to stand before their table. He wore a leather jacket with cross-blasters on each hip. He folded his arms. “Name’s Wyndell Tyris. Sometimes the Blind Man, sometimes the Quaestor of House Qel-Droma of Clan Arcona. Sometimes a simple tea house patron. Depends’ on the hat, really.”
He wasn’t wearing a hat.
“I’d invite both of you to come see what we have to offer before, because power comes in many different forms that may be of interest.”
While he looked to be a fairly normal looking Human, his green eyes shone brightly and the aura he gave off through the Force was so heavy that it seemed that the siblings felt their awareness through the Force not dissapear, but severely dampen.
Anselm’s hand never reached for the chit. He wouldn’t take his sister’s money. He wouldn’t force her to fund his choices. He resented much of what she said about his actions, but he could see the hurt in her eyes. The fierceness of which she was lashing out to protect herself as well.
“I have alot to make up for sis…we both do.” he thought to himself before the Blind Man’s reintroduction.
Seeing the visage of the Blind Man vanish, and then Wyndell Tyris’s approach was a surprise to be sure. He hadn’t sensed any Force activity from the white haired ghost. And now his own power was dampening, probably to prevent any escalation. This was an opportunity. He was taking it. And maybe….
“Dele…let’s just hear him out. Please. You have options. You have choices. See what he has to offer. Set yourself free from our father’s expectations.”
As the Blind Man vanished from her chair and the dark-haired man appeared, it took all of her willpower not to glance at her brother. That had not been planned, and she was not proud of it. She did not want to see the effect her words had wrought.
Adele searched her memory for any mention of a House Qel-Droma or Clan Arcona, but could not recall any.
A secret organization of Force Users. The Blind Man’s true identity. The identity of an alleged spy within the Ember Crown. The fact that Wyn was being so free with the information caused her suspicions to only increase.
Those suspicions were not soothed when she felt her connection to the Force become muted. Her eyes widened slightly at the sensation. It was not a comfortable feeling; if anything, it made her feel even more helpless in a situation that she barely had any control in to begin with. Was this an attempt to prevent escalation? Or was this the jaws of a trap closing?
Still, she recovered quickly. His little jab about lacking control ranked enough to make her want to prove him wrong. So she buried her growing apprehension behind layers of anger.
Then Anselm spoke, and she closed her eyes tightly, gritting her teeth at his words. Even after she’d said what she said, he was still trying to reach out. What would it take to get him to hate her? To see the things she already knew about herself?
Of course, he didn’t yet know the full extent of her failure. Once he found out…
Adele quickly shut down that line of thought. She slowly rose to her feet, studying the dark-haired man intently. Her voice was icy. “An invitation? That implies it can be refused.”
Wyndell Tyris shrugged. “You’re free to do whatever you want. No one is bound here beyond their own goals. I may lead this group, but there are plenty who operate on their own, and those even above my reach.”
“Fair enough.”
He could have been lying. The simple fact was that it didn’t even matter. She was alone in the heart of his territory, and it was glaringly obvious that he was a superior in the ways of the Force. If things turned unfriendly, there wasn’t much she could do.
Stay or go? The longer she stayed, the harder it would be to leave. But she wanted to see this paragon of a group that her brother had chosen over her own family. Perhaps they were as strong as Tyris said. If that were the case, she could return and honestly report that he was out of the Wmber Crown’s reach. Sure, it would be a failure, but her brother would be alive.
“Well then, lead on. I’m sure this’ll be very enlightening.”
Wyn let the suppression field drop, slipping his hands into his coat pockets. His walk and posture was much different than the air of perfection the white-haired man had projected earlier.
There were legends about powerful Jedi being able to project their image across distances, so real that unless you touched or they interacted with solid matter you would not know the dfference. Mysteries that were beyond the tomes their father had squirreled away or managed to find. He was not interested in the Force or what it meant, just for the raw power it could bring him thanks to his “gifted” children.
The dark haired man seemed perfectly at easy, posture slack, as he hummed idly to himself as he lead the duo back towards the Docks.
“Uncle…am I doing the right thing?”
The thought washed over his mind as Anselm turned to follow Wyn. He wanted to reach out for his sister, but he didn’t think she would take his hand. Not yet. There was too much damage done right now. Work that needed to be put in.
He didnt even know if she would stay. But he had hope. More hope now than for awhile.
Adele let her brother go first and glanced back at the table, noticing that he’d left the credit chit behind. It held their combined savings, put toward a dream that, for her, was likely now only dust. But it didn’t have to be for him. She picked it up and stuffed it into her pocket before hurrying after them.
She lapsed into thoughtful silence as they traversed the busy streets, contemplating the events of the past few days in light of their conversation. She’d been to Port Ol'val before. Often enough that she had a couple of favorite food stalls and a favorite bar. She knew her brothers favorites too.
Perhaps it was Wynn’s veiled comments, or wishful thinking on her part. But as she looked around, she thought she saw signs of a larger operation at work, hidden in plain sight.
She was so deep in her musings that she didn’t realize they were heading to the docks until they were nearly there.
Indeed, Port Ol'val was much more than met the eye. While the mix and diversity of denizens was dizzying, considering how remote this Dajorra system was, showed all walks of life from young to old. While weapons were readily seen and visible, there did not seem to be an air of danger or strife permeating, no lingering auras of malice.
Everyone on Port Ol'val was there for a reason, and everyone on Ol'val knew who really ran the shadow port.
It would manifest in small details. Runners moving from stalls and marketplaces carrying cylindrical hilts on their hips. Blasters of a unique design, robes and armor mixed from the Clone Wars to contemporary styles.
Wyndell certainly walked as if he was unconcerned of the alleyways and shadows lurking around the winding passages left behind by the original mining operation.
They came to the docks, and…a space yacht. It was an actual Minstrel-class space yacht. It looks so out of place in a place like Port Ol'val, but the markings on its hull were distinctively…mundane. The logo on the outside was the only thing that stood out, a hammer with a serpent swirling about it.
Anselm looked over the large yacht with interest. This ship, like the man before them, was clearly not all that it seemed. He was so intrigued, and his thoughts so fractured amongst several threads, that he almost missed the sounds of footsteps approaching them.
Turning to see what he was hearing, his eyes turned to steel. Six figures bearing his father’s mark held blasters leveled at them. One of his father’s hit squad. It seemed he truly wanted his son dead.
“Princess of embers, we are here to assist in your mission. Former son of our Lord. Your life is now forfeit. For your crimes against the Crown, you are sentenced to death. And to you, whoever you are,” they lead assassin pointed to Wyn, “Leave this area and you will be allowed to live. Stay and your fate will be shared with our quarry.”
Wyn slowed to a stop but did not seem to act. Instead, he seemed to simply study the new gang that appeared on his turf. His blasters remained in their holsters, and he simply kept his hands in his coat pickets, Green eyes sparkling in the shadowports artificial lighting.
Adele’s head whipped around to stare at the members of the hit squad in disbelief. But there they were. She recognized their badges, and even recognized the voice of the man who spoke. Saldis. She’d trained with him, from time to time.
Her Father had made it abundantly clear that this was her problem to resolve, her punishment for her failure during the slaver mission. And yet here they were.
Their blasters were leveled on Anselm, and she could not help but to notice that a couple of them were taking aim at her as well. She’d been on enough missions with them to know that there would be no time for talk. No time to think.
“Like hell,” she snarled. She vanished from where she stood only to appear between the two that stood nearest to her brother. Twin lightsabers flared and hissed as they cut through armor and flesh as she struck at the outstretched arms of two of the assassins as they held out their blasters to take aim.
One stumbled backward, howling in surprise as he found himself suddenly without his arms or his blaster. The other stumbled backward, managing to avoid her strike.
Hopefully, it would be enough to get her point across. “Stand down. All of you!” she commanded in a voice that promised dire consequences to any that disobeyed.
“We will not, traitors!” One called out.
As the burning rage filled his veins, Anselm’s fists burst into flame. With feral speed, he threw his right first forward and followed it with a spun kick. Roaring flames lashed out, consuming half of an assassins body and charring the flesh off her face.
As he lashed out with another strike, his connection faltered, emitting no flame towards hos second target.
“Well that fracking sucked…” he swore in his mind.
“` The henchman feinted backward away from the pyrokentic lashing, and trained fire on the traitor Anselm. The woman mercenary also fired her blaster in retaliation.
Meanwhile, the remaining two flanking Adele also fired, but the one on her right had an unfortunate blaster jam. She growled and slapped the weapon to try and clear it. ”`
Adele tsked under her breath as she angled her blade, causing the blaster bolt to arc harmlessly away
Anselm’s focus was unbreakable. Hos body moved with years of training, swerving through blasterbolts as he anticipated the actions of the Ember Crown’s assassination squad.
“Pathetic.” He quietly murmured.
Wyndell Tyris watched the scene unfold. He blinked once. He had thought it would take a lot more to convince the twins to even consider joining up with House Qel-Droma. Was Darius that insecure in his position that he’d set him up for success? Lucky or not, Wyn wasn’t going to let the incursion into not just the Blind Mans territory, but clan Arcona.
He did have a reputation to hype up, afterall.
Wyn’s hand slid out of his pocket, but instead of going for one of his reliable twin blasters, he instead simply raised his hand, focused his will outward, and snapped his fingers with a purpose.
The entire docking area seemed to color-phase from dab undertones to bright pastels, each player still on the field appearing to become a drawn-version of themselves.
Anselm and Adele both exchanged looks of mild confusion, but watched as the remaining henchman and mercenaries turned on one another and started shouting, “Traitor, traitor traitor DIE DIE DIE” as they open fired into each other at close range. The blaster bolts from their carbines shredded the mercenaries and henchmen alike into bloody, hole-ridden paper dolls that crumbled lifelessly to the cold, colorful ground below.
Wyn snapped his fingers once more, and Port Ol'val reverted to its usual drab, artificially lit appearance. He slipped his hand casually back into his coat pocket and continued to walk towards the ramp of the Minstress-class space yacht docked ahead of them.
He glanced over his shoulder at the twins. “Well, I guess honor really is dead. But there’s always a place for those who are willing to take fate into their own hands in Clan Arcona.”
He turned to face both of them, and smiled warmly, as if he hadn’t just slaughtered four “deadly” Ember Crown agents in the blink of an eye.
Adele blinked, watching in amazement as the remainder of the hit squad dispatched one another amid a field of brilliant pastel colors. When those colors faded, the would-be assassins were lying slumped on the ground. Tyris simply smiled at them, clearly pleased with his handiwork. If anything, it vindicated her decision not to simply attack him earlier.
But now that her brother was no longer under threat and there were not blasters pointed at her head, the full weight of what just occurred began to sink in.
Why would Father send them? She’d always been loyal. It Didn’t make sense.
Then, she remembered what her Father had told her. About how come of the other capos had doubted her suitability to lead. The Blind Man, no, Tyris’s own words about a traitor in thr Ember Crown also returned to her. That, at least, made sense. Surely one of the capos was trying to take advantage of the situation to create an opportunity for themselves.
She growled under her breath and made a sharp gesture, causing the made who’d been ‘disarmed’ to slam into a nearby wall. She was on him in an instant, her fingers digging into his chin and forcing him to look at her. “Talk. Who sent you?”
Wyn tilted his head slightly but remained quiet, observing. Meanwhile dock workers all tipped their hats at the Quaestor, and began to drag the other dead bodies away.
Anselm watched the dock workers interaction and raised an eyebrow before turning to Wyn.
“Very smooth operation, this. I’m impressed.”
Adele paid little attention to the others. She was focused entirely on the would-be assassin, whose jaw she now held in an uncomfortable grip.
He stared back at her, eyes wide but unable to do much else. “Wh-what?”
Adele gritted her teeth. Clearly it had been too long since she’d reminded members of the Ember Crown why she was her Father’s second in command. Heat spread through her muscles in response to her anger, the Force itself lending her strength. “Who. Sent. You.” she repeated through her teeth. “I want their name. Tell me,” her fingers tightened, and she could feel his jaw creak under the pressure, “or you will spend what remains ofyour life drinking through a straw. And that will just be for a start.”
“The King…” the mercenary managed with difficulty. “The King of Embers gave the order.”
Adele froze, searching the man’s eyes for any hint of a lie in them. There was none.
Protests swirled in her mind like a dangerous current. Some gave the order in Father’s name, trying to cover their tracks. The man was lying. Information extracted via torture was rarely reliable.
It was impossible. Impossible. She was loyal. Sure, she hadn’t killed her brother yet. She wasn’t going to either. But to attempt to do so when he was under the Blind Man’s protection would be foolish. The Ember Crown did not need a two-front war. After all, their current conflict going so poorly was why they’d resorted to slave-trading in the first place.
She snarled and slammed the man’s head backward against the wall. Twice. A third time. The violence did little to ease her confusion or her frustration. She let the assassin’s limp body fall to the ground and began to pace, trying to work through her thoughts. Trying to understand what in the karking hells was going on.
Anselm watched his sister as she paced back and forth. She looked so confused, betrayed, angry, hurt. After a moment, he approched her and placed a hand on her shoulder, using their bond as twins to try and calm her a fraction.
“Adele…I think that you should come with me. At least for now. If you dont like what this…organization has to offer us, then we run. We leave. We buy that ship and run far far away. Far from our father. At least, either way, we are together.”
He tried to hide his hopefullness in his voice. As shitty as this situation was, this was a chance for them to chart their own course. And maybe heal the rift between them that their father, and their own actions, caused.
“I want you walking by my side, dear sister. I will not leave or betray you. Never again.”
Adele felt as if a giant hand was crushing her chest, squeezing the air out of her lungs. Did her father know she would fail? Is that why he sent the hit squad? Did he know the whole time that she was weak? Or… or… was this an attempt by one of the capos to oust her from her position? Or a trick by Wyn to sow distrust? If they’d been sent for her brother, then why try this foolish attack, in the middle of a busy shadowbox, in a rival gang’s territory. Why did they aim their weapons at her?
But it did not matter. The why’s and the wheretofor’s, they did not matter. Because when Anselm’s life had been threatened, she’d acted without thinking.
It didn’t matter if her father sent the hit squad or not. One way or another, he would hear of this. He would hear that she had defended her brother’s life when she should have been helping to end it.
Anselm had merely publicly questioned their father’s will. But she had directly disobeyed. Which meant the next hit squad would likely be coming for them both.
The thought stopped her cold.
No. No, she had always done what she was supposed to. Always obeyed her father unquestioningly. Surely he would remember that. Surely he would see that, and trust in what she was trying to do. She could fix this. She could fix this. Surely there was a way she could fix this. There had to be.
It was at that moment that she felt Anselm’s hand on her shoulder. She heard his words. What’s more, she heard the tremulous hope in his voice and it made her heart ache.
It had always been the two of them against the world. Sure, they’d had disagreements, but this was their first major rift. The simple fact was that she missed her brother.
Participating in the slaving mission. The subsequent explosion. Taking the mission to kill her brother. Her judgement had been extraordinarily bad of late. He, meanwhile, had chosen differently. She trusted him, she loved him, even if she didn’t necessarily like him very much at the moment. But, then again, she didn’t like herself very much at the moment either.
Adele turned to face him, staring up at him intently. Searching for… something. She wasn’t sure what. “Are you sure? After everything I…”
“I don’t care what you did.” He cut her off. And it was true. They’d been raised to be a certain way. And she’d faced a very different manipulation from their father than he had. He couldnt judge her. He wouldn’t judge her. “It’s you and me, Dele. I’m not leaving you behind.”
Not asking for permission, he wrapped his arms around her, holding his sister in a hug. He needed her to know he was serious. This was their second chance. They had to take it.
Their father would not easily give up what was “his”, but they wouldn’t be alone in this fight any longer. For the first time in a long time, he had hope.
Adele stood stiffly, her arms at her sides. Not knowing what to say. She was too overwhelmed with emotion. Hope and despair and dread and joy and fear all warred within her.
He said he didn’t care, but he didn’t know the full extent of… well, everything. What would happen when he did?
She closed her eyes tightly and brought her arms up to hug him. Hesitantly at first, and then more tightly.
Maybe he would reject her. Maybe he wouldn’t. But one thing was for certain, their father would not give up. More hit squads would come. And she would be there to protect him right up until he didn’t want her around anymore.
“All right,” she said at last after a deep, steadying breath. “You and me, Anselm. We’ll do this together.”