Public Asphalt and Ablutions

[Wedge Draav]

DARKNESS REIGNS ON THE JEWEL
LEVEL 1142


Coruscant.
​

It was now a world dominated by Star Destroyers, banners, marching armies, and the ever-gnawing presence of Big Brother. The center of the galaxy- literally and figuratively, was a decisive, disastrous blow to the Alliance. It was a failure on every level of Alliance leadership, military, government- every bit was their fault. He was not there to defend it a second time. Perhaps, with Revenant Squadron and the Starfighter Corps under his leadership he could have prevented some of the losses, or even helped defend the Alliance's jewel in the Core.

But, such thoughts were pointless and fruitless now.

Wedge Draav was not among friends anymore. In fact, he was alone. They did not know he was here. Nobody did. He had pulled many strings, lied, and coerced his way to get to Coruscant. Despite all the machinations of the Empire, it was entirely not impossible to get on the planet without being noticed. Billions upon billions of ships, crafts, and trillions of people moved around, in, away, and coming into Coruscant. The Empire controlled much, and it was vast, but the system to control the entire planet was not yet there. Not yet, at least. Wedge had no idea what a surveillance state in the Empire looked like.

And he didn't want to find out.

He was on Coruscant for one simple reason.

Find Reima Vitalis . Find anything.

To that end, he had contacted people from all over- and was heading to one of the many lower levels of Coruscant that was sparsely under Imperial control to find some forged documents and hopefully, intelligence to lead him to her. Whether the Empire cared to even bother with the lower levels of Coruscant was another question entirely. Perhaps it was better to simply not waste the resources and let the rot consume itself. But he found himself here.

His contact was roughly five hundred meters away, and through hundreds of denizens on this level alone. He wondered if it would go smoothly- or a bullet, knife, or blaster was waiting for him at the end of this.

​

 

[Hubert Starhopper]

Hubert stands outside of some dive cantina on the lower levels, a deathstick hanging from his lips as he broods over his escape plan. There were a lot of parts to his plan, but ending up in Coruscant wasn't one of them in the slightest. He detests the Empire... The blind eye they turn- or rather, the eye they use to watch the credits stack in front of them, selling slave after slave. Unfortunately, he was one of them, and that old wound leaves a sour taste in his mouth any time the Empire is mentioned. So needless to say, being surrounded by them makes his face want to pucker in anger.

He was to meet a contact at one of the spaceports between here and Tatooine, but there were... Complications...

Upon arrival at said station, the Empire was already swarming the platforms. He had heard one of them shouting at an elderly Rodian. something about looking for someone. Hubert hadn't paid it much mind as he tried to find the nearest exit. That exit just so happened to be a public transport to Coruscant, that of which was already boarded and searched by the Imperial party.

Ducking the view of any Imperials, be it by grace or luck, Hubert snuck his way onto the transport, and hunkered down until it reached its destination. Now it seems the Galaxy is against him. Stranded on an Imperial planet, wanted for murder, smuggling, and a few other things, no allies to speak of, and no exit strategy, he feels an impending sense of doom, and it shows on his face as he contemplates his strategy.

His best idea so far is to try and sneak his way back onto a transport, but there is a very high risk there will be a group of Imps waiting on the other side to rip any and all passengers out of their seats and take their identification. A long exhale blows through his nostrils, and he looks to the Coruscant sky, watching the speeders whiz by overhead...

...And a smile appears on his face, along with an idea in his head...