Private RecordNotFound

[IVI]

THE DIRECTOR
CORUSCANT | UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
Yula Perl

​

Strings and levers, strings and levers — all were put in place to keep something intact and secure. And both could be pulled.

M was a maestro of string-pulling. Especially for her own means.

Normally, those means were beyond her. Greater than the sum of her parts. Something that would, ultimately, benefit The Alliance. If someone mind-bent enough, made enough excuses, they might be able to categorize her current affairs to the benefit of The Alliance.

She did. She convinced herself that it was, and admired her own persuasiveness.

Recording after recording had been synthesized of the Denon riots. When it was time for M to digest them, they were clean, cohesive, and constructed a story without narrative. M had sat forward, the data images had shifted, and the visual telescopy shifted to dive toward the surface and chaos of all the people in the streets. Artificial intelligence had stripped out the background, rendered the vigilantes, and proved Yula’s alibi true.

M used this to her advantage, pulled the right strings, and had the Zeltron released from prison and delivered to an off-the-record facility that was, ultimately, like another jail cell. A huge, cathedral-like metal structure off the grid. Within its walls were countless unseen devices that M hoped to exploit.

When Yula was delivered, M was standing there with her hands folded in front of her. Straight shouldered, statuesque, and her stare fixated on the freshly-out prisoner.

“You were supposed to be there for a long time.

Good thing your truth was the real truth, hm?”

 

[Yula Perl]

Yula grinned, spreading her arms wide before the austere Chiss in front of her.

"What can I say, I'm a paragon of virtue."

She debated adding a little mock bow in for inane measure, but decided against it.

The Zeltron mechanic knew that she was on Coruscant, but that was about it. The viewports of her transport hadn't been sealed off completely until they broke through the stratosphere, and before then she'd recognized the strangely satisfying geometric patterns of the city-planet's urban sprawl during their descent.

Beyond that, she had no clue where they were.

Her attention rolled over the high domed ceilings, squinting into the distance before dropping her gaze back to her…benefactor? Jailor? Who knew how that chain of custody worked. Yula appraised the woman with a discerning gaze that seemed to linger.

"Am I wrong in hoping that my…previous work with the Alliance inspired this jailbust?"

Yula rolled a hand in the air as she spoke, referring to the handful of galactic conflicts she'd been bloodied in under the banner of the Alliance. Far from a Jedi, she was little more than a force wielding mercenary who'd been granted special treatment by being the lover of Dagon Kaze.

A feeling she couldn't ignore had ignited a spark of familiar energy that tingled her nerves. There was something alive in these walls.

"Or is this more of a private rendezvous?"

One corner of her lips tilted upward in a half-smile that was on the cusp of being salacious.

IVI

 

[IVI]

Slowly, M nodded.

“Discretion is the common denominator between my privacy and your freedom.”

The way Yula looked around was exactly what she had hoped to see. There was a subtle brightness to the Zelton’s eyes, a gleam, that M interpreted as an understanding that there was more to this vicinity than just the spartan atmosphere. It was wonderful to see.

As far as M understood from her youth with The Force, it was a living thing. As far as she was aware, machines were not living. How could intimate control be established with something outside the web of life?

“You can feel it, can’t you?” Ruby eyes followed the trajectory of Yula's appraisal of the space. “That’s why you’re here.”

In her early days with the SIA, M used people’s files, and all the information she had on them, as a scare tactic. It was scary for people to think their life was something seen, and with the foundation of their supposed secrecy devastated, most adopted a sort of nihilism, and cared little for withholding information when they already felt so exposed.

In this case, M only shared the obvious.

“The nature of your previous assistance to The Alliance suggests your virtuous and helping inclinations.” She allowed the jest to settle before she continued.

“Your file boasts your technopathic abilities. I’m interested in your expertise.”

Her hands moved from being folded in front of her to gesture smally to their shared space. Huge as it was.

“I want to know how you do what you do with technology. How you’re able to speak to it.”

---

Yula Perl