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Private Off Track




Coruscant // Underworld // Swoop Track
Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra
Song 2
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She rationalized that it wasn’t just carelessly freeing, but it was good to revisit the track. Good to use her instincts, the skills she'd earned from tirelessly fighting the good fight, and manning the sticks to a standard that’d inspire a squadron. Good to navigate with intuition and a single goal. To drive and to drive fast.

No kills counted here. None were necessary. It was just her and speed.

Formerly still, the bike activated with an adjustment of her heel and she jolted forward, the lifters roaring and transitioning into a smoothness only something levitating could deliver.

The world blurred. Streaks of colours that had once been painted walls were nothing but racing hues alongside her. Like her surroundings, her thoughts melted. There was no thinking about friends lost, accusations against The Order, and no death. No war.

The only constant was the blue sky above. A cerulean streak like a brushstroke. And even that flickered in and out of view in the underworld –– like something untouchable.

Speeders ranged into the hundreds of kilometers per hour, and she was accelerating rapidly, the needle shakily quivering past one hundred, two, three... the only thing to hold her back was herself. Flexing her legs and rocking her hips forward, she eased against the bike as if the closer she pressed the more likely the bike would adopt and meld with its driver. A more aerodynamic position.

The wind whipped and stung at her eyes and cheeks, eventually forcing her to close the visor of her helm lest she be blinded by residual dirt around the track that picked up with the speed.

After the first bend, it turned into surefire joy.

Hands off the throttle, Loske stole a second to spread her arms wide and lean back in the seat with a shrill whooping sound. Air whipped and hungrily tore at her silhouette while she extended her wings before being forced to lean back down and focus on the track ahead rather than the minimickery motions of a mynock.

The forty-degree turn was a snap, no sacrifice to speed necessary. With Amea’s touchups, she bet it could take almost a ninety without fishtailing too much. Up ahead, there was something sharper and she refused to reduce the pressure on her throttle. The bike objected, the backend wavering in protest and she wrenched her arms to keep it straight, fighting against the odds of inertia.

It took a handful of seconds to rectify, and after the contest of wills between machine and racer, Loske admitted to herself that her technomancing friend could maybe let her take a 70-degree at most.

The rest of the track was a cinch. She’d done it several times before, and by now she was only in it for the thrill less the competition.

After several exhilarating, much needed minutes, the grounded pilot came to a stop at the end of the line. Loose dust curling beneath the swoop. Lazily inching the bike forward with rocks of her hips into the designated space, she split her attention between parking and reviewing the results with tempered glee. Frank’s feed was faster than the track’s, but she didn’t mind waiting the extra few seconds to compare against the catalogued results on Blue Sato –– her racing moniker.

With a swing of her legs, she hopped off the bike.

“Haven’t seen you in a bit, Blue.” One of the track’s hands asked. A skinny rodian with an affinity for machines. They held out their hand for the top curl of their fist to meet the bottom of hers in a friendly bumping exchange.

“Heh,” Removing her helmet, she ran her fingers through her hair to unstick the strands from her scalp, and set the protective gear back on the saddle. “Thanks for keeping the track open the extra hour.”

Happily, the alien’s snout twisted as if to dismiss the appreciative proclamation as no issue: “You going to make an appearance this weekend?”

Could she be so irresponsibly nostalgic?

“Yeah, I’d..I kinda hope so. When’s the latest I can sign up?”

“Between you, me, and the referee..”
the helping hand’s miniature trumpet nose twitched suspiciously “Probably day of.”

“You’re a gem, Neeld. You know that?”


Interrupting the conversation, Loske’s knee-high companion came whirring in. The astromech delivered a scolding: If you are, you need to shake that rust off. That was fourty-two seconds slower than last time. The little arm-waving stunt? That can’t make it into any races.

Obviously, Frank. Thank you.” With an apologetic roll of her eyes and headshake combo, Loske ushered the droid away with her toes, walking the speeder back to the stall for a more permanent parking spot.





 
Chancellor Emerita / Advisor of State
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Coruscant // Underworld // Swoop Track
C R A Z Y

The Coruscanti Underworld was a part of the capital that most members of the elite classes preferred to forget - deep dark slums filled with crime and poverty, hidden far beneath the glistening city above. It was rare to ever see someone as powerful and important as Adhira Chandra lurking below the surface and yet that was exactly where Adhira wanted to be. Her people had been keeping tabs on Loske Matson, the Jedi she'd briefly spoken to during the funeral on Ragoon IV.

The Balmorran Senator was concealed in a heavy maroon cloak that obscured her face and form from prying eyes as she made her way into the stands of the Swoop Track, which was actually quite empty at the hour. "What is her position?" the woman rasped quietly into the comm in her ear.

"On the track."

As the reply crackled into her ear, there was a sudden whoosh of air as a bike sped past. "Ah. Found her." Adhira gripped the rail tightly with her gloved hands as she watched the almost blurred form of Loske speed around the track. "Going quiet." She reached up and removed the earpiece as she continued to gaze out over the track. The only people who knew where she was were her personal staff. Adhira reasoned that the Senate Guard might object to her presence so far below the surface and rather preferred her trip to be off the record. Officially, she was at a dinner party.

She continued to watch the girl, taking a moment to adjust the crystalline squares hanging from her lobes. When the bike finally began to show signs of slowing and pulled out of sight below her vantage point, Adhira pushed off of the rail and set off down a set of stairs to her left that led down to the track itself. The woman she'd come to see was busy parking her bike and conversing with a rodian along with her droid. The Senator kept a respectful distance as she carefully drew closer.

"Excuse me..." her voice was as delicate and unassuming as she could manage, most of her face still obscured in the shadow of the hood, "I'm looking for Loske Matson?" Adhira's deep purple lips curled into a gentle smile. Of course, Adhira already knew this was the person she was looking for, but she often found that playing dumb had its advantages.


Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
 
By the time she'd reached the designated stall and was locking up, the nape of her neck prickled. There was no alarm, just an indicator beyond recognizing the sound of footsteps. She turned an instant before the interjection was voiced.

While the figure that had approached was purposefully obscured, there were other insights that suggested who the woman was. Firstly, the expensive look to the cloak, not something typical to the underworld. Too pretty and too clean (in the word's of Asher Asher ). The second was the familiar voice. Nevermind Ragoon VI, Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra 's words were not often withheld and Loske had the opportunity to once be in a Senate Session wherein the woman's voice was heard in-person, rather than recorded holos. And there was of course too the night of the fundraiser for The Jedi Temple. As unexpected as the salutations was, it didn't seem unwarranted.

It was a puzzling situation, and while her senses didn't suggest any need to be alarmed there was noteworthy curiousness to the coincidence of being in such a random location at such a particular time. Why here?

The Underworld wasn't always a dangerous place, it just generally sucked. Especially for people who were stuck down here. Many who lurked around the race track were either adrenaline junkies to the sport, or to the gambling. Purposed to protect, Loske took a second for spacial awareness. As if looking beyond the woman, looking for lackeys or shadows, she eventually settled her gaze back on the concealed visage of the politician, befuddlement plain on her countenance.

Reaching Loske wasn't difficult. As a Captain within the GADF, her dossier was available to all Alliance personnel. All contact information available if someone were to simply ask or hunt through the catalogues. Which suggested the approach of the Balmorran had a more private nature, and a need of urgency.

"Senator.." Loske returned, with a cock of her head and a hush to her tone that mirrored the clandestine nature of the senator's cloak. The intonation of the title pointed out the obvious serendipity that could only be assumed as somewhat arranged. Her voice returned to it's regular, conversational volume: "Are you swoop racing fan?" She gestured aimlessly to their location as if indicating the blaring obviousness that Loske had somehow been tailed. Which was...embarrassing.
 
Chancellor Emerita / Advisor of State
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The deep purple smile that had upturned the corners of her mouth tightened into a more fitting expression, a smirk. She raised her gloved hands to grasp the sides of her hood and gently lifted it off her shoulders revealing her modestly painted face. Her eyelids were also colored in the purplish shade that had been used on her lips and her hair was pulled back tightly into a braided bun. All of this except for the cubic diamonds hanging from her ears were notably less flashy than her Senatorial finery.

"Ah- You remember me..." it was not a real question, just a bit of filler text for what was about to be a much more complex conversation. She gingerly stepped up to the bike and placed a gloved hand on the seat, marveling at the craftsmanship. It wasn't that Adhira wasn't used to seeing things like this, but everything in the Underworld had a much different nature to the luxury and expensiveness of the world above. "A fan?" She looked up from the bike and smiled again at Loske.

"I am afraid not, Miss Matson," she clasped her hands in front of her and scanned the woman's face, "No... actually, I was hoping we might finish up our little chat from the... well, the funeral." Her eyebrows moved in a way to convey her desire to remain discreet about the subject. Briefly, her eyes shifted around at any who may be within earshot.

"Alone, ideally," she added, pinching the fingertips of her right glove.



Loske Treicolt Loske Treicolt
 
"Too bad, I hear it's a good spectator sport." The pilot admitted, tugging at the fingertips of her gloves until they loosened around her knuckles and the encasings eventually slipped off. There was a small compartment at the lip of the saddle that she lifted and injected the gloves into. Absently smoothing out the hem of her leather jacket while the Senator explained her intentions.

Ms. Matson sounded so horribly formal. It's not that she was a stranger to formalities or titles but verily, she was used to Padawan or Captain, and the other title sounded so feminine that it might be something her mother might have donned back in the day –– if the surname had been the same. Alas, such was not the case. She was the first of her anagram namesake.

"You can uh..just call me Loske. Please.

And -- I'm as alone as I'm going to be now, given our surroundings. More alone than you, I think."
The silhouette of the helpful Rodian had disappeared from the garage's opening, busying himself in preparations for the weekend and other janitorial duties. Nevertheless, Loske could appreciate the request for privacy. Especially in an area so remarkably foreign for the bedazzled woman.

"If you want, you can walk with me. I can give you a ride back to the surface. That could offer a cone of silence."

As if to lead the way, she gestured for the woman to follow her. Keeping an easy pace, she shoved her hands into her jacket's pockets. The context to this interaction was alluded to, and the blonde should have assumed as much. It was unlikely the debate for Clone Rights would be so purposefuly clandestine as to seek her out in a moment of reprieve from the war. Certainly that would have warranted just a holo call. No, it was something more sinister. At least there was a modicum of reassurance that Adhira was on the side of the Jedi, she'd boasted so on Ragoon VI. Something Loske was grateful for. A bold defense and an ally in the senate would be helpful, and she wondered how much of that was in part from Auteme's influence.

"I'll admit, I was surprised you approached me on Ragoon. Like, of all people. Kind of a shame we got interrupted for...so many reasons." She'd never been suspicious of the Senate before, but given the recent aggressions of the Corellian representative on Ragoon VI, there was some reason to be a bit more wary. Even if Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra herself had stood up on behalf of the Jedi. On the nose, the Balmorran brought up the event and Loske gave way to a sharp inhale. What had been a peaceful, somber event had been tainted by the belligerent intrusion of the scarred Kaito. Maynard and Ryv had defended the collection of Jedi looking to respect tradition, but that didn't stop the ripples of uncertainty from spreading.

"Senator Kaiyoshi's allegations aren't easy to ignore. I guess for you too..is that what you want to talk about, then?"
 
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Chancellor Emerita / Advisor of State
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The old woman chuckled at Loske's reply and watched patiently as she began to remove her protective gear. The Jedi had certainly started to diversify themselves under this new order that the Alliance had helped to build. She hardly would have thought it possible to take up swoop bike racing in between her exhaustive training sessions and accompanying her master on diplomatic missions. It was good to see the Jedi finally being treated like people.

"You can uh..just call me Loske. Please."

Adhira's mouth opened as if to say something - perhaps to object to the formalities or inquire as to why. It closed again quite quickly, however, and she nodded her agreement to the term. It was the mention of her supposed secluded nature that finally broke Adhira's calculated silence. "Ah, well you are partly right Loske," her voice was still soft, but she stepped closed like a friend coming close to share an exciting detail. "How do you think I found you here?" She gave Loske a moment to consider the question. "As we've established I am no great fan of swoop racing, but I do have a number of associates in the Intelligence Services who were kind enough to find you for me... Senator Kiyoshi has similar if not greater resources and greater desire to monitor those Jedi he found on Ragoon."

The senator was fairly certain they were, in fact, alone, but there was no guarantee her assumption was correct. "It would be wise you to assume you are never alone." Adhira gave a last knowingly look of warning before allowing a bit more distance between them again.

Happily, the old woman accepted the invitation to walk with Loske. There was a split second where she stopped to wrap her cloak back around her and drew the hood protectively around her facial features, but it did not take long to find herself in step with the Jedi again. "To be perfectly honest with you, I was not sure I would end up on Ragoon, either. It was a foolish move, but I needed to know the truth before I let Kaito wreak havoc on the fragile coalition we have built with the Jedi" she twiddled with one of the jewels on her right hand as they went along.

"I need to know more about the Jedi that made the attempt on Senator Kiyoshi's life... but I also need to know what he knew... and I think," she stopped and turned to look directly at Loske, "that you may have been one of the privileged few to speak with him for the last time."

 
Piecing together how Adhira had managed to find her on the Swoop Tracks was not hard to do. The senate were heirs apparent to clandestine activities and being the public faces they were inadvertently meant slinking around was...not for them. And for others. She tucked her lips together with a light shrug to the indicative notion that there were some in the shadows, watching them even now. It wasn't a desirable thought, so Loske opted to find the compliment somewhere within it.

"Oh." Though, the idea that the Senator from Corellia that had stormed Ragoon was tailing the Jedi sent a chill that coursed through her spine. In an instant, it felt as though her blood coagulated at the thought and her eyes darted about, as if the spies would pop out and announce themselves on demand.

By the time it was her turn to speak, they'd arrived in a lot where a collection of speeders had been parked. Some were sporty, some were banged up. Loske's was somewhere meekly in the middle of the scale: A rental. A convertible. The girth of the backseat allowed for Frank, and he gave a short burst of his side-rockets to give him the height necessary to navigate over the side into the padded cavity.

"Senator Chandra, it's a shame you didn't start following me earlier in either of our careers." Loske murmured, leaning against the frame of the driver's door and folding her arms briefly, before unfolding once more and running a finger along the "It might have saved you the trouble of today's tail. I wish I could help you. I'd like to say I could, but Lanik and I never interacted much. I attended his knighting ceremony and his funeral and...that's about it. But even then, I'd trust that he...he wouldn't do anything to put The Order in jeopardy. Or his friends. There's no way. Something about it seems so wrong." Her expression was painted with remorse, and her shoulders angled with the heaviness of disappointment's burden.

One of the final few to speak with him.

She perked slightly.

"At his funeral, he spoke to me. Maynard, Ryv, Bernard and I. As an apparition. Are you familiar with the concept of Force Ghosts?"

Feeling like she might still have merit in the conversation, she leveraged over the door and into the driver's seat, settling with enough time to give Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra the option to continue the chat as a passenger or not.
 
Chancellor Emerita / Advisor of State
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The air on the lower levels of Coruscant - while not toxic up to a point - was much more stale and unrefined than the highly processed and artificially enhanced atmosphere above the surface. It lacked crispness and it felt almost heavy as Adhira struggled to force it in and out of her lungs. It had been decades since the poison gas attack on Plexis ravaged her respiratory system, but it continued to limit her in - mostly unseen ways. Usually, though she was flanked by guards and aides who could spirit her away for oxygen, but here she was completely alone saving a comm link and a pilot... er jedi...

Adhira smiled as it seemed to dawn on Loske the gravity of what she was implying about the possibility of unfriendly surveillance. The Balmorran found that all too often there were grave threats that went underestimated for far too long. Kaito was one who had managed to pass as benign for many years and only now had his malignance come to the fore. Adhira, though, had been watching him for quite some time. "Senator Kiyoshi has long been regarded as an unpleasant man with hidden agendas... unfortunately, that has become something of an epidemic in our young Senate. I do not believe any of my colleagues have quite realized how deeply unpleasant he truly is though, until now. Clearly he has been hiding something from us all and I believe that drew the ire of the young Jedi who attempted to slay him," she said quietly as they came to a stop at the collection of speeders. She placed a wizened hand on the haul of one to steady herself.

"Yes, I am aware the phenomena the Jedi refer to as 'Force Ghosts,' the ability of some powerful or particularly attuned Jedi to hold on to a part of themselves and manifest through living force... in the moment that Lannik spoke to you... I could sense his presence, though he remained concealed from my sight... whether that was intentional-" Adhira trailed off, seeming to peer into the middle distance at a replay of the events before returning to the present moment, "if only I'd had the opportunity to speak with him... well, no use fussing over it now, I suppose." It was never that simple when it came to things like justice. It would be too easy if every time a Jedi committed some seemingly treacherous but morally ambiguous act they could just be spirited up to explain themselves. Adhira was afraid she would not be that lucky.

When it seemed her interview with Loske had come to an end, the senator noticed her gesture to the other seat. Adhira inhaled in a way that made her shoulders rise up to her ears - the uncomfortable type on inhale. She glanced around the vast emptiness of the arena, a few shadows of people here and there but none of them interested in Adhira and Loske. After a moment she clamored into the vehicle and pulled the safety restraint tightly over her chest, giving Loske a worried look. "Well, I suppose I will be needing a ride back to the surface," she said as her expression cooled into a smile, "and... we need to discuss arranging a meeting with the other individuals who spoke to Lannik. If they can tell me anything to prove his innocence - or better yet, Kaito's guilt - then we will be one step closer to justice."

 
Loske felt the need to reassure the poised woman that surely it wasn't intentional, but realized she had no place to do such things. Maybe it was. Wasn't for her to say. The edges of her mouth pulled into something that looked sympathetic to Adhira Chandra Adhira Chandra 's plight but relegated the expression back to something more reassuring with a nod.

"If you could find a better ride back I'd be insulted." Without case for further introduction, she used the heel of her hand to press the stick forward and thumped the pedals to reverse, smoothly transitioning again to drive forward and out of the station. The street was private for a while before Loske was forced to merge with more traffic between levels that would slowly see their ascension back to the planet's top.

"Ryv's probably your best bet. On top of knowing Lanik probably better than anyone else, they were knighted together, he's a Kiffar and psychometry could be useful at a crime scene. Even after it's been cleaned up." Loske admitted, though her words were slow. He already had so much on his plate. "I mean, I could do the psychometery thing too, if it would be helpful. For someone else to talk to..there's Bernard...He and Lanik didn't seem to get along but, at the funeral, he was pretty moved. Which I'm sure you saw, of course." Her brows lowered, and mouth rose into something small and thoughtful.

"Kaito's guilt?" Her interest piqued, and she moved her gaze from the vehicles ahead of them to her passenger. That was a loaded statement, and as much as she and her friends might murmur about it, hearing it from a politician's lips almost gave it legs.

"Which...and, not to look a gift orbak in the mouth, but..why are you so generous with the Jedi?"
 

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