Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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'He' will not happen again. (Ask)

Aleidis Zrgaat

Young soul from an older generation.
@[member="Genesis Rostu"]

I've snuck in and out of a few places. Sometimes, it's difficult - I practiced for months to make it from the front doors of the Jedi Temple, through the Council Chambers and onto the roof without being detected. That was Je'Gan's introductory course, years ago. Since then, I've been more in plain sight with my obfuscation and duplicity. Fits my particular idiom.

That said, creeping through the Jedi Temple wouldn't be too hard for me these days. It'd be as easy as walking unseen through a crowd, or through a Starship. When only a handful of people in the Galaxy understand what you do, and even less know how to stop it, sneaking becomes somewhat simple. Past cameras, between guards that can no more see me than they could see the shadow of their shadow. Droids don't acknowledge my presence. The White Current is a dangerous thing, which is why Je'Gan Olra'En entrusted me with all he knew - because I won't use these skills the way he did. He created a perfect Assassin, one refuses to kill.

Except for that one guy.

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Granted, Aleidis didn't have very much resistance. She'd done a little research, and as it turned out, the man she was looking for didn't have some palatial mansion or glorious holdings in a secluded paradise. Genesis Rostu, leader of the Confederacy, maintained a modest apartment on Bothawui as his residence. She approved of the selection, and once she got around to talking to him? She'd likely let him know.

But first, there was business that needed to be addressed.

Velok had kept laboratories and holdings scattered across the Galaxy, the locations of some of which she'd gleaned from the Tsil in which his soul was kept captive. Aleidis had resolved to end his legacy before some chucklehead picked up the idea to fill his twisted shoes and continue his work - but doing that required more means than a seventeen year old girl from a primitive, backwater planet had. Especially since she'd launched her shuttle into the heart of a star to destroy the Darkstaff and had gotten fired.

Heck, she couldn't even afford a prosthetic arm to replace the one that'd been blown off. How the hell was she to charter a ship and buy enough explosives to launch a Galactic campaign against one of the most prolific evils the Galaxy had seen since OMNI?

Easy.

She'd have to get by with a little help from her friends.

But those were in short supply, these days. The senators of the Republic were busy dismantling her work and laughing at her, the Sith Empire had decided to go back to being boring machines of hate, and the Fringe was... sketchy. Her options were somewhat limited - while she might be able to rally the Jedi to her cause, Aleidis doubted it. She'd failed what Grandmaster Watts had asked of her, resulting in deaths. Perhaps a war they'd get dragged into. No, she couldn't go to the Jedi.

And she didn't have any contacts with the Renegade Jedi that she knew of.

Aleidis needed money, and she needed friends. So, she'd decided to come to Bothawui to attempt to win over Genesis Rostu. The man had seemed good at heart and kind enough when she'd met him as the Supreme Chancellor, but it remained to be seen if that kindness had been a farce or limited to the respect of one leader to another. Then, she'd been the greater or equal power. Tonight, she was a homeless, peniless girl with one arm and high ambitions.

After sneaking past the security of Genesis' building, Aleidis Ijet took her hood off and collected her thoughts. She'd lost weight since he'd seen her last - not including her arm. The expensive blue-and-white veda cloth robes were gone, replaced with a white hooded sweatshirt and plain black trousers. Hair tied back in a ponytail, Aleidis ijet took a breath and then knocked four times on Genesis' door.

Hopefully, he wouldn't mind an impromptu visit in the middle of the night. She HAD brought him a gift.
 
What is it that a leader does once the office is closed for the evening? Does he sit in the darkness, with papers and forms piled high? Does he return home, only to busy himself with the affairs of the state? Or, does he take this brief span of time to actually relax for once. In the months prior to the events which had transpired on Zhar, that had resulted in the loss of his close friend @[member="Zev Stargo"], the former options characterized the daily life of the Grand Marhal. He spent his days and nights working himself to the bone in the name of the Confederacy, sometimes foregoing sleep in order to attend to matters, both large and small, despite the hour. However, ever since the passing of his friend, and the near death experience on Utapau, Genesis Rostu had turned over a new leaf. Yes, the Confederacy was his primary concern and he continued to lead it with the utmost vigor...But as of late, the Vong-shaped clone spent the latter portion of his evenings the way any man would.

So, with a platter of snacks on the end table and the most recent game of Grav-ball playing on the holo-projector, the Grand Marshal mimicked a vegitable on the couch...while throwing his hands up every now and again in response by terrible defense on the part of the home team. Of course, he was not anticipating any distractions for the evening, hence the fact that he was garbed in simply a robe and pajama bottoms. As such, when the knocks sounded at the door, a look of surprise claimed his countenance. He knew that it wasn't security, for they were specifically ordered not to bug him unless Bothawui was on fire...so, the Grand Marshal arose from his seat and strode across the room. Upon arriving at the door, he lowered his gaze to the eyeport and saw a face that even his wildest dreams had not prepared him to see: the young, former Supreme Chancellor of the Republic was standing outside of his door???

"What in the world..." he muttered, immediately pulling open the door and thereby introducing himself to the chill of the evening. When his dark eyes fell upon the form of the woman, his heart sank. She had lost weight, the primp and proper attire was gone, and most of all she was missing an arm. "Chan-Er-Miss Ijet. What in the world are you doing here?" he inquired, nearly addressing her by her former title. The towering, Vong-shaped warrior then eagerly motioned for her to enter inside, then closed the door behind him. "I had not anticipated seeing you here...what brings you to my humble neck of the woods?"

And what a humble place it was, for where the Emperor had a palace and the Supreme Chancellor had his lavish quarters, the Grand Marshal chose a simple, studio apartment.

@Aledis Ijet.
 

Aleidis Zrgaat

Young soul from an older generation.
@[member="Genesis Rostu"]

Aleidis furtively stepped into the apartment, sparing only a glance over her shoulder at the door when it closed behind her. "I'm terribly sorry to interrupt you at your residence at such an absurd hour, Grand Marshal. I hope you can forgive the impertinence - I wouldn't be so rude if it wasn't important." The teeanger promised earnestly, slipping her hand into the front pocket of her hoodie. The empty sleeve on the right had been tied off at the shoulder and sewn up, but was perhaps more notable for the attempt to retain dignity by not letting it flutter freely.

"If it pleases you, sir, I'd prefer to just be called by my name - Aleidis." The Ghostling explained in an apologetic tone, offering a small smile as though sorry that she'd have to put him out in such a way. "I'm not the Chancellor, or a Jedi, or anyone important anymore; I'm just a girl looking for help." The Ghostling's black eyes flickered briefly to the Gravball game on the Holo before returning to Genesis.

When they'd met on Coruscant, it'd been as equals - leaders of two large factions sitting down to transcribe the future into treaty. They'd gotten along as well as could be expected, but the girl Genesis had met had been muted. Dulled by duty she didn't believe in, heartbroken at what she'd left behind, struggling to bear a weight she'd have been suited well for... in perhaps a decade's time. Time enough to gain experience and maturity, time for her skills and patience to catch up with the grand scope of her ambitions.

The girl standing in Genesis' parlor, in spite of her drab clothing and the loss of her arm, looked more the part of a leader than the untouched Supreme Chancellor who'd cheerfully shared the fruits of her garden with him months before. Stress and battle had put lines on her face, but she'd been tempered by the flames. A calm confidence exuded from her in spite of her polite, modest greetings. Renewed purpose had straightened her back and restored her confidence. Aleidis had found herself, and she was nearly an entirely different woman than she'd been before.

"All I ask is for ten minutes of your time, Grand Marshal." Aleidis promised with an eager smile, sliding the hood of her sweatshirt down. "I'm still working for peace in our time - but I need help. Ten minutes is all I ask of you."
 

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