Private City of the Dead

[Thelma Goth]

Thelma's Tailoring was a little shop with a quaint painted sign hanging above the door. Inside the recently repaired display window, a droid was changing the clothes on a pair of pale, faceless mannequins, swapping them for the latest fall fashions.

The surrounding businesses were in worse shape. Smashed windows, battered doors, and scattered trash made it clear this was a sketchy part of town. Yet the tailor somehow remained untouched, a bright spot amid the downtown grime and muck.

Though Griffin had told Alicio to meet at this place, no friendly face came out to greet him. The parking lot was deserted, apart from a single speeder that sat idling. A cold breeze swept fallen leaves across the pavement. The droid smoothed out the wrinkles in the last sweater, then disappeared behind the curtain backdrop. Either Alicio was meant to head inside, or something had gone wrong. The Force was uncharacteristically silent on the matter.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

A dark-cloaked man paused at the awning of the quiet little boutique, taking a good long look at the signage. It was certainly a low-key meeting area, even if the name Thelma and the displays of beautiful dresses in the windows seemed to set off some distant memory in Alicio's mind. He took it in a moment longer, peering into the Future, and finding a stale frown at what he saw. Or, more accurately, what he didn't see.

Perhaps on any other planet, the nondescript flowing cape and dark face obscured by a shadowed hood would've seemed a little out of place. But this was Necropolis. Dark and mysterious was the norm. Alicio fit right in.

A small group of young women swept past him, parting around his form, not even seeming to notice the cloaked man. Their expressions seemed to stare through him, as if the nobleman were invisible. Or, more accurately, as if they forgot him as soon as they saw him. Alicio had made more use of the skill since becoming... considerably more ubiquitous in recent days. He never felt entirely good about using his particular brand of stealth, affecting others' minds so their perceptions slipped off of him... but the day called for secrecy. There could be no room for error.

The security of an entire planet hung in the balance. It was not the time for half-measures.

Chancellor Organa pushed through the doorway.

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

A soft bell rang as the door opened, signaling that a customer had entered. A very petite young woman with long auburn hair came from the back of the shop, her quick movements and darting gaze immediately betraying that she was on edge. Something would tell Alicio that he ought to let her see him—and not just because it would be cruel to hide himself when the chime had already summoned her to the entrance, expecting to greet a visitor. It was the day after Hallowe’en; the time for scares was over.

"Hello, how can I help—" She paused upon seeing Alicio, recognition crossing her features. "Oh, Your Maje—Chancellor Organa!" After a stumbling start trying to remember how to properly address him, she swept into a curtsy, smiling bashfully. "I'm the—I'm Thelma. Your wife Amani has commissioned me before. How can I help you today?"

Thelma did not seem to fit the rogue's gallery of vampiric thugs, voodoo sorcerers, and rogue agents Alicio had thus far encountered in his Necropolitan adventures. She was so very small and pitifully thin, her wasted body indicative of long, slow starvation—yet she was too well-dressed to be impoverished. An elegant green dress hung from her skeletal frame, draped in such a way as to give the illusion of more bulk. But not even the richest fabric could hide her hollow cheeks and sunken eyes.

Was she the heir Griffin had spoken of? The eddies of the Force now seemed to hone in on the tiny seamstress, though what role she had to play in their plans remained unclear. Neither Griffin nor any of Sycorax's other allies were here yet to confirm it.

Were Alicio to look deeper into his surroundings, he would notice something else that was strange—a lingering essence, like the sillage of a scent. While faint, it was instantly recognizable as belonging to Valery Noble —and it wasn't vanishing the way it would if she had merely been there recently and left. Whatever was generating the impression of the Jedi Grandmaster, it was still here.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio removed his hood after stepping in, his obscuring mind-haze dropping without a second thought. Dark spots lightly touched the spaces under his eyes, his expression tired, yet resolute. Like the wall of a mighty castle, cracked and eroded, but standing all the same.

There were a lot of questions about his meeting today. Too many, for his liking. But situations like this required a personal touch. So here he was.

Alicio canted his head as a young woman entered, finding a pleasant, half-sad smile. It was her. "Alicio is fine." He'd had his fill of titles. "It's lovely meeting you, Thelma. I thought I recognized your name." He knew a bit more about her, thanks to Amani. Like how last he heard, she was a fugitive on the run from the Jedi Order.

But she certainly didn't seem like a fugitive.

"Would you mind if I browsed? I'm supposed to meet someone... here." Then, he tasted a familiar flavor on the air. A dear friend, unmistakable. Val.

What did that mean?

"If it isn't an inconvenience."

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

“Alicio,” Thelma corrected herself, her voice soft. “It’s lovely meeting you as well.”

Please let him just be here for clothes, she silently pleaded. Something I’m actually good at, rather than all of this intrigue!

"Would you mind if I browsed? I'm supposed to meet someone... here."

While Alicio was distracted, Thelma’s expression crumpled. By the time he focused on her again she had hidden her feelings behind a friendly mask. “Of course,” she replied. “In fact, I-I may have something that would interest you. Wait here…” She scurried off into the back, leaving Alicio alone.

The shop was dimly lit, old bulbs flickering softly like candles within sculpted glass fixtures. There were many mirrors, as one would expect of a dressmaker’s shop; walls painted black were reflected again and again, making the space seem more vast than it was. There were various garments on display, both men’s and women’s clothing, for customers to browse. And somewhere in the back, there was another unmistakable signature in the Force—though this one was less dear.

Byron Devorak's Cloak. It was lying on a table, the layers of colorful fabric full of bullet holes.

Its presence could be coincidental. After all, if Thelma was as good a seamstress as her reputation would claim, he might have simply brought it to her for mending. On the other hand, if Alicio would recall from his wife's sparse retelling, Thelma had been cast out of the Order after it was discovered that she and her master were secretly vampires.

Were they walking into a trap? Or was something else going on?

The Force offered no answer to that question, though the future was growing steadily clearer. In just a couple minutes, two men would enter the shop looking for Alicio. One of them was Lon, so the meeting was still on. Then Thelma would return shortly after, carrying a little black velvet box in her thin white hands. He could even glimpse what was inside it, if he tried. And then...

Byron was there, though Alicio could not sense him. He was there, in the future, coming from the back. Coming up behind Thelma. Lon, thinking he had been betrayed, would reach for his blaster. Alicio would be caught in the middle of a firefight between parties with far too much bloody history to not immediately be at each others' throats. Still, he had a little time before everyone converged upon the shop. Enough to prevent a catastrophe, if he acted... now.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

“Of course. In fact, I-I may have something that would interest you. Wait here…”

"Of course," Alicio repeated, regaining his attention in time to note... some hesitation in the former Jedi's voice. He didn't have much time to ponder it's source, however, before he was distracted yet again. This time by something a bit more... pressing.

A lot of things were about to happen. Very few of them good.

Thankfully, Alicio was used to thinking on the fly. Using what little time he had, the Chancellor projected his thoughts out the door, attempting to connect his mind to Lon's. <This is Alicio. Byron is here.> His voice was quick in his head, decisive. <Assuming you didn't double-cross me, hold position, and get ready.>

He knew Lon hadn't called the man on him. And he hoped an early warning would let the mist-man know the reverse hadn't happened, either. But he needed time to figure out why the hell an assassin was about to nonchalantly walk through the door, why he felt Valery's presence and how the hell Thelma factored into all this.

The vampire of the hour walked through the doors yet again, coming back to a considerably more grim Alicio. He was holding the strange bright cloak, examining the multitudinous colors, folds, and bullet holes with a scientist's scrutiny. The Force flowed sharply around him, as his attentions were focused entirely on the way ahead.

"It's an interesting design," Alicio said, looking pointedly at the cloth as he knew Byron came within earshot. "Though I don't think it's quite my style."

"I would say 'long time no see', Mr. Devorak. But that's not entirely true, is it?"

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

<This is Alicio. Byron is here. Assuming you didn't double-cross me, hold position, and get ready.>

Lon's presence in the Force seemed slippery, Alicio's telepathic commands sliding off him like water. The future was changing with each new action and decision Alicio made, but one thing that remained constant was Lon's arrival. Less than two minutes away, now.

---

Moments earlier…

In the back of the shop there was an old safe allegedly made of Mandalorian steel. Thelma used it to hold all her most valuable stock—the bolts of rich and rare fabric, the exotic metals and stones hammered into beads and sequins, the spools of gold and silver thread. Her hands shook as she took the key from her pocket and inserted it into the lock, opened the door, palmed the small black velvet box holding the ring—then felt hands gripping her shoulders, jerking her around until she was face to face with Byron.

“What is he doing here?” he demanded. There was confusion in his eyes—desperate, willful confusion. An accusation of treachery lay tucked beneath his tongue, but he was giving her the benefit of the doubt, holding out hope that the truth would be kinder.

“I...“ Thelma began falteringly. “He said he was meeting someone—”

"It's an interesting design," Alicio said, looking pointedly at the cloth as he knew Byron came within earshot. "Though I don't think it's quite my style."

Byron’s head swiveled to look at Alicio, now standing just a few feet away. His fingers twitched, but he restrained himself from reaching for the blaster at his belt. "Hands off the threads," he growled.

Without his Cloak, he seemed naked and exposed, his physical presence much reduced. After all, underneath those layers of colorful fabric he was just a lanky boy barely out of his teens. A lesser vampire who happened to be born with magic powers.

He had obscured his presence in the Force, but he couldn't hide what he had done last night. The scent of Valery Noble 's blood clung to him like a cloying perfume. Her essence coursed through his veins, warming his cold skin, adding luster to his dark hair... and increasing the tension in the room.

"I would say 'long time no see', Mr. Devorak. But that's not entirely true, is it?"

"Things have changed a lot since we saw each other last," Byron said. "I'm not under orders to kill you anymore. And I see you've met my little seamstress." He mustered up an artificial smirk, but the mask of careless bravado couldn't quite hide the heartbreak and anger in his eyes when his gaze flicked toward Thelma. "He wouldn’t hold a meeting here unless you agreed to host it. So tell me the truth. What the hell is going on? Have you been playing us for fools all along?”

"No!" she exclaimed, pressing a hand over her heart. "On my life, I haven't betrayed you or anyone. I've been trying to help. This pointless war, with all its needless bloodshed, has gone on long enough."

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio did not, in fact, take his hands off the threads.

He looked up, giving the assassin a severe look. He didn't seem worried for his safety in the slightest, Alicio had picked up on Byron's reliance on his cloak. He could feel the power interwoven into each patch of fabric. But he was worried. There was no clean way of doing this. He couldn't give Lon any forewarning, which meant Alicio would have to act fast once the agent entered.

There was something here. Alicio had become adept at sniffing out opportunity, and he tasted it in the air. The next few minutes could spell Necropolis' doom... or it's salvation.

Alicio folded up the patchwork cloak, draping it on one arm, his lightsaber jumping to his other hand.

"You orchestrated this." Alicio let his eyes fall on the young vampire, dialing back his severity ever so slightly. "I want to hear what you have to say. But my contact will be joining us soon, and I don't forsee him sharing my open-mindedness."

"So you have very limited time to convince me, Thelma, that I shouldn't just take down this man that works for a known crimelord, sent a Senator into a coma, tried to kill me, and has recently fed on a friend of mine." He frowned.

"You have a minute and thirteen seconds."

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

"You orchestrated this. I want to hear what you have to say. But my contact will be joining us soon, and I I don't foresee him sharing my open-mindedness. So you have very limited time to convince me, Thelma, that I shouldn't just take down this man that works for a known crimelord, sent a Senator into a coma, tried to kill me, and has recently fed on a friend of mine."

Byron scowled, oddly defensive when confronted with his list of transgressions. “First of all, you—”

"You have a minute and thirteen seconds."

The starkly short time limit sobered the bocor. One minute and thirteen seconds. Setting his jaw, he stared at his Cloak in Alicio's arms, filled with loathing but desperate for answers.

"I don't know if I can convince you," Thelma said softly. "I couldn't even convince the Jedi Council that I deserved to live. But I can explain a few things." She glanced meaningfully at the bocor before turning back to the Chancellor. "Byron saved my life. Mr. Werdegast financed my shop and placed me under his protection. I am very grateful to him, but I don't approve of his methods. I don't approve of Senator Laveaux's either, but she was the only one still standing in opposition to him.

"I was an informant for both. I tried to control what they knew about each other in order to avoid bloodshed. I would warn them if the other was plotting an attack, and I even planted the idea of a peaceful resolution in each of their heads—"

The mausoleum meeting, the Force seemed to whisper. Byron felt it too, judging by the look on his face. Not even the best diplomat in the galaxy could save a forced meeting between parties who weren't ready to reconcile.

"But in the end I only prolonged the inevitable. Now there is another problem. Marya Werdegast. She was her father's pawn, but she betrayed him. Last night, she..." Thelma trailed off, faint from speaking for so long without stopping even to take a breath.

"Han is dead," Byron finished for her, his gaze dark and tone bitter as he crossed his arms over his chest. "While he was dying he told me to find you, Thelma. That's why I'm here, crashing your little party with the enemies of our race. Care to explain that?"

"I don't know why." Shaking her head, her expression scrunched up with strain as the final seconds ticked down. "Please—Everyone wants me to be something I'm not. I just want the fighting to stop before both sides destroy each other!"

The door slid open. Byron immediately dashed for cover, his blaster drawn. Thelma stayed where she was, her pleading gaze fixed on Alicio.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio was still as the dead as Thelma petitioned him.

He'd been a senator for a long time; exposure to that sort of company had trained him to get a good read on someone. He could see the desperation in the vampire's eyes, as she laid bare her deceptions, all in a bid to curb the violence about to happen. She'd done a lot to shape the events of the planet, as Alicio slowly realized she was behind the meeting in the graveyard, and was likely a large part of why neither side had annihilated the other, yet.

She was craftier than Alicio had initially given her credit for. He made note of that.

The news of Han's passing earned no look of sympathy from the Chancellor, but it did darken the man's mood. He could see the writing on the wall. Finally he understood the gravity of the situation.

The doors slid open behind him, but Alicio didn't spare a look. Instead, he held up a hand, as if to tell Lon to stay. "Stand down, now." He hoped the severity of his words would cause the smoky man enough pause to listen.

"Marya Werdegast is perfectly positioned to take over the power bases of both Han and Sycorax. If she is allowed to do so, she becomes the uncontested ruler of Dahrtag, to do with as she pleases. The balance of this planet will tip, and people will die."

He gave Thelma a small nod, before raising his voice. "If we want to avoid catastrophe... I think we have no choice but to work together."

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

"Stand down, now."

After dashing across the threshold and locking the door behind him, Lon came to a confused halt. Alicio may not have spared him a glance, but Thelma breathed a startled gasp at his appearance. Lon's clothing was disheveled and singed by blaster fire. A skull-like mask—the remnants of an elaborate disguise which might have once made him resemble a Givin—clung in tattered remnants to his head, tufts of graying hair peeking out through the torn and scorched prosthetic. In his hands he clutched a submachine gun.

Despite the dire looks of the situation, Alicio could see the future, so he knew there was time for a short speech.

"Marya Werdegast is perfectly positioned to take over the power bases of both Han and Sycorax. If she is allowed to do so, she becomes the uncontested ruler of Dahrtag, to do with as she pleases. The balance of this planet will tip, and people will die." He gave Thelma a small nod, before raising his voice. "If we want to avoid catastrophe... I think we have no choice but to work together."

"Sure, bigshot," Lon replied in a growl. "But we've got a problem here—"

A sudden crash cut him off. The window behind Alicio and to Thelma's left exploded inward, the glass shattering amid a hail of gunfire. Thelma hit the floor to avoid being shot, while Byron took cover behind the beskar safe. The sound was deafening as bullets and bolts sailed past them, destroying furniture and shelves and riddling the walls with holes.

They were under attack.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"Sure, bigshot," Lon replied in a growl. "But we've got a problem here—"

Alicio's eyes narrowed, stepping an inch to the right, and pulling up his hood. Well, that went smoother than expected. Perhaps being pursued had tempered Lon's... well, his temper.

As the window shattered inward, Alicio watched as a knife of glass spun through the space he'd just occupied. His lip pursed, he rolled with supernatural grace over the counter, landing on a knee next to the seamstress, a storm of blasts and bullets littering the space above them.

"I don't suppose you have another way out, Ms. Goth." Chancellor Organa was the picture of grace under fire, as he rolled up the patchwork cape in his hands, stowing it somewhere within the folds of his own cloak. "I'd rather not fight through a kill squad today."

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Thelma's ears were ringing, the sounds of gunfire leaving her temporarily deafened. She covered her head with her arms, shielding herself from the shattered glass. It wasn't that she was incapable of protecting herself. She had been a Jedi, had fought in battles and survived the war against the Maw. Perhaps that was precisely the problem. Not every veteran returns a hardened soldier. Some just come home traumatized, liable to curl up into a ball and weep when they hear a loud noise too reminiscent of a blaster or a bomb...

Through the floorboards she sensed the impact as Alicio landed beside her, and felt the tickle of his cloak against her side. She raised her purple eyes to his, looking even more small and frail from her cowering position.

"I don't suppose you have another way out, Ms. Goth. I'd rather not fight through a kill squad today."

"There's another door," she replied, pointing. It was across the room from the safe, and led out into an alleyway behind the shop.

Just then Lon came barging into the backroom, barking orders into his comlink as he took cover behind the counter with the others. Byron gawped at him, blaster in hand, clearly expecting the other man to take a shot at him. Lon's lips pulled back in a hate-filled snarl as he ground out the words: "The Chancellor said don't shoot."

Reluctantly, Byron lowered his weapon. "They've got this place surrounded," he pointed out. "If you give me back my Cloak, I can teleport—"

"Yourself and the lady, while you leave us mere mortals here to die?" Lon interrupted him harshly. He turned to Alicio. "I've got a getaway driver waiting just around the block. Think you can get us there in one piece?"

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

A back entrance? That would do.

Alicio nodded in solemnity to Thelma, unflinching as a bullet splintered the wood above his head. It would be unlikely a hit like this would leave an alleyway completely uncovered, but since they seemed to have chased Lon here, maybe they had some time to get ahead of their attackers.

"I've got a getaway driver waiting just around the block. Think you can get us there in one piece?"

"I can do my best." Alicio frowned. "I'd rather not use my saber, in case they haven't actually realized I'm here. Stay close. We're going to try to sneak our way out."

As uncomfortable as Alicio sometimes felt altering the minds of passersby away from noticing him, he felt no such reservations touching the minds of Lon's pursuers, as he tried to muddy their perceptions, make them focus on continuing to fire, and forgetting their peripherals. He was acutely aware they may have some kind of protection from the planet's loa, but he would be a fool not to try.

Then, keeping his head down, Alicio led the procession of strange bedfellows to the back of the shop. using the Force and his Future sight to lightly scan the back alley beyond the door, to ensure nobody was there waiting for them.

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

"Stay close. We're going to try to sneak our way out."

In the absence of a preferable alternative, the group more or less fell in line with the Chancellor's plan. Thelma pulled out a key and inserted it into the lock, while Lon flanked her with weapon drawn. Since Alicio had refused to return his Cloak, Byron grabbed one from a nearby rack and threw it over himself to shield his body from the sun.

The door slid open. At first, the alley seemed clear—until a trio of well-armed thugs popped into view, brandishing blasters. What happened next, happened fast. The three men opened fire, yet the blaster bolts which came hurtling toward the doorway seemed to vanish before they could hit anyone. Thelma's raised hands absorbed the energy, dissipating it harmlessly with the aid of the Force.

Lon was less merciful. He wasted no time unleashing his submachine gun, spraying gunfire in a wide arc. Two of the men dropped dead, while the third fled for cover.

"Let's go!" Lon ordered, charging ahead.

Apart from this confrontation, Alicio's efforts at influencing the minds of the thugs seemed effective. They were not pursued as they fled, their attackers preferring to keep blasting the little shop. Thelma couldn't help but pause and look back over her shoulder, wincing at the sound of gunfire. Every shot was a blow to her livelihood.

She felt a gloved hand grip her arm. It was Byron. "Better it than you, my dear," he said, pulling her along as they ran down the streets of Necropolis.

---

Lon's speeder sat on a street corner just where he said it would be. It was a common make and model, easy to lose in the skylanes. A perfect getaway vehicle, if a little small for five passengers.

Dashing down the road, Lon threw open the passenger side door. “Earl, get us outta here!” he exclaimed at the driver before flinging himself inside. The others crammed into the backseat, with Thelma wedged between Byron and Alicio. There was little time to get situated before the speeder took off, blasting into the skies above the city of the dead.

"All right," Byron said, his voice coming from somewhere amid a sea of sun-resistant fabric. "I want some answers now."

"Not so fast." Lon pointed his gun out the open window. "Chancellor, you can see the future. Did we lose them?"

Thelma twisted around in her seat, looking out the back to see if she could glimpse any pursuers. At Lon's question, she turned to Alicio with raised eyebrows. "You are a seer?" she asked curiously.

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio was quiet in the back seat for a long while. Too long, to be honest.

"Yes," he finally said, after staring into the middle distance. "We lost them. As long as we don't double back, or take the next exit to the concourse." He blinked. Or they stopped here, or if Lon started shooting his gun out the window...

He let a hand pass over his eyes. Too many futures.

"You are a seer?"

Alicio nodded, still rubbing the prophecy from his eye like sand. "It isn't as useful as one would hope... but it's kept me alive despite all the bad decisions I've made." He raised his voice, addressing the entire car.

"That was... more public than I would have ever expected Marya Werdegast to be. How did she know there was a meeting there today?" More concerningly... did she know the Chancellor was there?

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

"Yes. We lost them. As long as we don't double back, or take the next exit to the concourse."

"You heard him, Earl," Lon said to the driver. "Head for the mountains. Get out of the city."

Earl, a male Constancian with slicked back hair, muttered in agreement and steered them forward.

"That was... more public than I would have ever expected Marya Werdegast to be. How did she know there was a meeting there today?"

"I'm not sure if she knew about the meeting," Lon said, rolling up the windows. The sound of whistling air abruptly ceased, the quiet allowing for more intimate conversation. "But I am certain she knows about you, Thelma."

Thelma blinked. "Me?"

"Before he died, Han Werdegast discovered he had a great-granddaughter he never knew existed. Though it would be more accurate to say that we discovered her first, and waited for an opportune time to deliver the news to him." Lon rested the butt of his rifle on the floorboard between his knees. "Marya was his only surviving heir, and thus due to inherit all his wealth, power, and resources. But the existence of this great-granddaughter changes all that. I assume she went to the reading of her father's will this morning and didn't like what it said."

Though he hadn't come out and said who the granddaughter was, it was starting to click. The look on Thelma's face kept changing, going through a variety of emotions. Confusion, shock, terror. "But... That doesn't make any sense. I'm not even the same species as the Werdegasts. They're different types of vampires." She could sit in the sunlight, while Byron and his ilk shrank from it.

"You've always been a hybrid," Byron spoke up from within his cloak tent. "That hasn't changed. Maybe you're a quarter Vampirika, and just didn't know it."

Thelma continued to protest. "When I met Mr. Werdegast, he looked into his family tree and couldn't find a connection between us."

"He also said you reminded him of his daughter Luna," Byron muttered, his tone subdued. It grew sharper as he addressed Lon. "The one your son killed."

Lon had begun to peel the shredded remnants of his Givin disguise from his head, pieces of foam rubber coming away in clumps until the unremarkable looking man underneath was visible. "I know," he said. "I was there when he did it. And I was there when you turned Creighton into a rakghoul. I had to put him down. My only child."

"Ayo, cool it!" Earl interjected, hands white-knuckled on the wheel. "You all just got out of a gunfight, you wanna start another one?"

A few moment of awkward silence followed before Lon continued, "Werdegast searched your respective family trees for common ancestors, not descendants. That was the problem. He didn't know that his daughter Luna had given birth to a son. She had the child hidden away, his origins kept secret. Her son was your father, Thelma. You are Werdegast's heir."

Somehow, Thelma's pale face seemed to have gone even paler. "What... What do you want me to do?" she asked, in a tone which suggested she was dreading the answer.

"Right now? Survive. We can't do anything until Marya is taken care of." Lon turned to Alicio. "That's where you come in, Chancellor. Think you can get her arrested and tried? Or at the very least, expelled from the Assembly?"

Alicio Organa​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Oh. Oh. That was funny.

Alicio smirked. "So there was another heir." That had been Alicio's original idea to Sycorax. Find someone to succeed Han that was more agreeable. To think that someone had been there the entire time, under their noses...

It wouldn't have worked, even if Laveaux had known about Thelma. She didn't seem eager to mastermind a criminal empire. That being said, people were rarely ready for positions of power. Sometimes, you just had to build the starship as you were flying it.

"I can dislodge her from her political power." He had the full might of the SIA, shapeshifting spies, a galactic core's worth of resources, and future sight. Focusing it all on one dirty senator would produce results. "But I can't knock her from her throne. Not without disrupting the balance here, which I don't want to do."

Alicio thought a moment, then with slow movements, he passed the raggedy cloak back to Byron. "So until she's dealt with completely, and this planet is stable... truce?"

- Thelma Goth -

 

[Thelma Goth]

Alicio seemed to find the whole situation amusing. Thelma was terrified, but she at least seemed to be willing to cooperate. Byron was grumbling as he continued to shrink from the sun, and Lon was waiting with bated breath for an answer from the Chancellor.

"I can dislodge her from her political power. But I can't knock her from her throne. Not without disrupting the balance here, which I don't want to do. So until she's dealt with completely, and this planet is stable... truce?"

Alicio went to hand Byron his Cloak. A shadow passed over the bocor's eyes, his gaze hooded. He looked at the half-patched Cloak, wondering how far it would take him, then a quick calculating glance at Thelma as he considered dragging her with him. Thelma caught the look in his eyes and pursed her lips in disapproval. Byron turned away from her, cheeks flushed; the shadow passed a moment later. "Truce," he said, tucking the Cloak away. "And thank you."

To think this was all that Sycorax had hoped for. A suitable heir to replace Werdegast, and their ally Alicio Organa as leader of the free galaxy. Too bad she wasn't here to see it...

"Byron," Lon said suddenly. "Don't think I'm going to let you off the hook so easily."

The bocor scowled. "Is it to be an eye for an eye, then? My life for your son's?"

Lon growled something under his breath. "I'll always hate you for that, don't worry. But the eye was already taken. Creighton's life for Luna's. I know you were just acting on Werdegast's orders—just as I was acting on Laveaux's."

Byron blinked in surprise. But then his eyes narrowed. "What do you want from me, then?"

"Make sure Sycorax Laveaux wakes up. Then I'll agree to a truce."

/end thread Alicio Organa​