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Private The Sand-Panther and the Nightshrike



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Dagon Kaze Dagon Kaze
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The Coruscant skyline was a wonder to look on. Vessels from across the Galaxy moved through its skylanes. In the distance, he could see the five great spires of the Jedi Temple. As he watched those spires through the beautiful orange light of evening his hand found the kyber crystal that hung around his neck by a leather cord. The un-bonded kyber was a translucent white showing a tinge of green when the light hit it just right. He played with the crystal between thumb and forefinger, his steel eyes lost in thought.

Trust. It was something that the Alliance had been in short supply as of late between the Jedi Order and the Senate. Aerarii Tithe and his cronies had cared more for lining their pockets than the safety of the Alliance or the Balance of the Force. War was good for the economy after all right? Well now the Alliance stood on the brink of war with their old allies, the Empire. It seemed that only through the combined efforts of High Admiral Hoid Hallafax and Chancellor Denko-Durren did the Senate not simply declare war on the Empire. At the very least Pryce assumed that Senator Mazik Stazi Mazik Stazi and his bill to set place embargos and limitations on Imperial immigration along with the GADF's heightened readiness along the Alliance-Imperial Border would stop the war from taking the people by surprise.

All of this was going on at the same time as the Crimson Lance moved prepared to strike against the Final Dawn and the Maw, closing the Maw Corridor for good. Just when they had those monsters on the backfoot. Now their past losses made so much more sense with the information that the Empire had been sandbagging this entire war, leaving the hordes of the Maw to the Alliance. Bastards.

"Sir, your 5 O'Clock is here," one of his aides said from around the corner of his office. Pryce turned from his reflection at the window.

"Send him in," Pryce said before turning back to watch the currents of traffic.

Pryce's office was very open. A decent-sized Wroshyr wood desk with a trio of comfortable-looking chairs in front and a tall office chair for Pryce centered in front of a chromed terminal and holodisplay. The walls were decorated with Corellian art pieces, schematics of old CEC freighters, and his awards from the Alliance and the Empire for his service during the Sith-Imperial Civil War. A podium near the door to his private refresher held an uneti bonsai tree and a podium near the entrance to this more private office within the Corellian suite held a wooden carved statue of a convor in flight above a howling loth-wolf. He had eschewed the colors of Corellia proper, green, gold, and white, for the black and orange of the Corellian Defense Force in his decor.

Dagon Kaze. A member of the Jedi Council and Jedi Knight. He was the man who had overseen the initial mission for the Padawans on Ilum, a mission that had gone terribly wrong and nearly gotten his son killed. Zark trusted the Knight well enough, even if Pryce had his misgivings about the man. But a little trust could go a long way.

 

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THE SAND-PANTHER AND THE NIGHTSHRIKE
EMPIRE AT THE GATES vol. I
Issue #3 w/ Dracken Pryce Dracken Pryce

What kind of temperature were they keeping in here?

He zipped the jumpsuit beneath the iconic New Jedi leather jacket that had become a symbol of hope across the galaxy after decades of Jedi passivity against the Sith's genocidal aggression. Blue eyes examined the waiting lobby. The intricate architecture and decorations always seemed so foreign to the unassuming, almost spartan ways of the New Jedi. Even to this day, after so many years, the boy from Ruusan seemed struck in wonder at the sight of cloud-cutting spires and skyscrapers reaching for the stars.

It was in the underbellies of these large megastructures, in the deep shadows their pristine forms cast, where he found his calling as a bringer of justice, as a Jedi. The high echelons piercing the skies, where the fates of trillions seemed to be decided, always remained distant from the Knight. Power was not what Jedi strove for, such ambitions could not only blind one from walking the straight path but divert them into the claws of the Dark Side.

And yet, here he was in the chambers of the Vice-Chancellor. Auteme's right hand in laymen's terms. Dracken Pryce, the famed admiral from Corellia. A man he had met in passing mostly during the Stygian Campaign. A veteran who had left the service in pursuit of politics -- the notion only left a sour taste in the distrustful Knight's mouth. Frankly, anything related to the Senate and the government as a whole left a sour taste. The bloodshed on Coruscant still dampened his hands.

"Master Jedi." the aide's voice broke his ruminations and Dagon stood up to follow their gesture inside the Vice-Chancellor's office.

He stepped inside a world brimming with Corellian patriotism. Dagon glanced at the wide windows to double-check he was still on Coruscant before his eyes trailed across the plethora of awards hanging on the walls. Neatly placed by the hands of a pedant with an eye for detail; perhaps it was the tangent point between the raven-haired Knight and the Corellian admiral. Ironically, though, it was the awards and medals Dagon had accumulated over years of service that remained the sole items that remained completely disorganized and huddled in a pile somewhere in his and Yula's bedroom on Denon.

"Vice-Chancellor." Dagon cleared his throat.​
 

Dagon was much taller now than he had been in those early days fighting the Sith. He'd only seen the youth pass through the Jedi's ranks. So many from that time had been killed leaving the Order in a similar state to where it began. Jedi like Dagon were what remained. Zealous in their fight against the Dark Side, distrusting of the process, willing to take the Galaxy on their shoulders for no recognition. They were a strong generation of Jedi, but he worried if they were too lax within their order because of the heavy chains the Senate had placed on them. Those chains had partially been Corellia's doing, allowing a Dark Jedi and a criminal to represent them, even if unwittingly. Even so, his son, while awake and out of critical condition now, had almost been killed by their lax free-form nature. But he would trust in the Force. He had to.

"Master Kaze," Pryce said with a welcoming and respectful bow of his head. He took a moment to tuck the kyber necklace back into his military-cut suit. The waning sunlight gleamed off the Corellian general's pauldrons he constantly wore. "Please sit down. Did you want anything to drink? Water? Spirit?" A protocol droid who had been standing quietly in a corner shuffled over, and set a tall glass bottle of water down on the dark wooden desk.

"I'm sure being on the Council leaves little time for drinks in good company." The droid set down a second bottle. Whyren's Reserve. Not Pryce's first choice, but the bottle was brought out whenever he had guests. Senators and other dignitaries simply abhorred drinking on the job - that is unless the drink in question cost more than two month's salary working on a shipyard. Personally, he'd rather have a drink with a little more bite to it like a classic Corellian whiskey sour but that was the difference between being raised in high society and working class he guessed.

"Please, sit," He waved to one of the chairs as the protocol droid waddled up to Dagon, tilting its head questioningly.


 

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THE SAND-PANTHER AND THE NIGHTSHRIKE
EMPIRE AT THE GATES vol. I
Issue #3 w/ Dracken Pryce Dracken Pryce

He nodded a greeting back at the Vice-Chancellor, blue eyes subtly trailing the kyber necklace plucked beneath the man's suit. Ever the investigator.

A strict abstainer, whose sole vice remained the Hutta Burger cheat day once a week, there was no other possible response than a polite "Just water, thanks." The lavish bottle of liquor set on the table by the protocol droid did not escape his sight. He had seen it before. Third PD on Denon, Commissioner's office. A real fancy bribe sent down above from the heavens; the heavens being the hundred and plus floors from the ground up cutting the skies where the Corporate Authority was located.

Was it ironic that on his first meeting with the Vice-Chancellor, there was something to remind him of the rampant corruption back home on 'Non. Or was it a message?

Or was the maze of criminal cases and conspiracies just pecking away at his sanity with each passing day?

He swallowed the thoughts away with a sip from the glass of water the droid had poured him after sitting down on the chair Pryce had gestured at.

"Thanks." he repeated, then plucked an evidence bag from the inside of his leather jacket and slid it across the desk to the Corellian admiral. "I've been looking into the Imperial's attack on Ilum." he cut straight to the point. "The laser, to be specific. Not a lot to find in that scale of destruction that's not pretty much atomized."

"...except that."

Doonium.

He knew what it was, having busted an odd smuggling shipment of it on Denon before, but preferred to keep that knowledge a secret. See how far would Pryce go in his openness.

However, the application and details of the material did still remain a mystery to the investigator.

"Was wondering if you could help me out -- looks more than just standard military-grade material."​
 

Pryce sat and took the glass of whiskey for himself and took a sip, listening to what the Jedi had to say. It was good that the Jedi felt the need to investigate this. He knew the SIA were looking into it as well as every sub-intelligence group in the military. But they were all working together, why was Dagon staying out of their investigations? Pryce grimaced at the whiskey.

"...except that."

That?

"Was wondering if you could help me out -- looks more than just standard military-grade material."

"I'd be happy to give it a shot? What do you have?" Why was Dagon being so cagey about this? What was really going on here?
 

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THE SAND-PANTHER AND THE NIGHTSHRIKE
EMPIRE AT THE GATES vol. I
Issue #3 w/ Dracken Pryce Dracken Pryce

"Open it." he softly jerked his head at the evidence bag that had been slid across the desk at the Vice-Chancellor.

Upon unsealing it, he would find a piece of doonium.​
 

Pryce gave the youth a withering look but pulled the bag closer and unzipped it. His brow rose questioningly at the contents.

"Metal?" He asked. It was nearly slagged to hell, the reentry burns warping the piece far beyond his ability to tell what part of a ship it came from. He hefted it and eyed it again.

"Doonium?" He hazarded a guess. What did doonium have to do with anything? "Rare these days on a starship after it all got bought up. I'm guessing it's from an Imperial ship? They used to use a lot of the stuff for their star destroyers back towards the start of the Civil War. Paelleon IIIs out of Kuat." Now that he thought about it though, almost none of the newer ships used Doonium and Paelleons were almost extinct in both Alliance and Imperial navies. The report said there had been a few at the battle but even still Alliance Palleons had different paint. Even past the soot and carbon scoring, he could tell this wasn't from an alliance vessel.


 

Pryce shook his head and set the hunk back in the bag.

"Not since they started producing their own ships over Entralla." He said, leaning back in his chair to take another sip of his whiskey.

"Not many shipyards even have access to it anymore, and those that do have been trading it instead of using it. Too kriffing expensive. Some crackpot economist made a prediction and the moguls started buying it up." He shrugged.

"Well, there are a few shipwrights out there that use the stuff but not many in Alliance or Imperial space." He took another sip. "The Chiss use it on their big man-of-wars I suppose. Why? What's this all about Master Kaze? What does doonium have to do with Ilum?"

 

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THE SAND-PANTHER AND THE NIGHTSHRIKE
EMPIRE AT THE GATES vol. I
Issue #3 w/ Dracken Pryce Dracken Pryce

Dagon remained silent for a moment. If he could trust Pryce's words, then the question he never posed was answered -- the piece of doonium was no simple debris from a destroyed starship. He found out what he came for; no point of contact that Dagon knew had a detailed intelligence on the naval manifests of both states, hence why he'd come to the Vice-Chancellor, albeit warily.

The raven-haired Jedi could simply leave.

Whether it was that never sated curiosity of the investigator or Auteme's nagging face in his head, he chose to stay.

And talk.

There was only one thing in space over Ilum other than starships.

"I trust this does not leave your office, Vice-Chancellor." he said, then corrected himself, "Or rather, does not end up on the desk of the SIA." his own distrust of the secretive agency stemmed from discovering a Sith infiltrator in their ranks -- Lord Letifer Lord Letifer , along with the spooks' passivity during the Jedi witch hunt that had led to the near extermination of the Order.

It wouldn't be a stretch if the Imperials had their own moles inside.

He jerked his head at the evidence bag in the Corellian's hands, "That piece of metal in your hands had been used in the construction of the Imperial weapon." he stated his findings. "For what? I don't know--" he admitted, then, "--but if it's a key piece of that weapon, then finding out where they source the material from is a logical next step."

"I implore you not to take hasty, unmeasured action, Vice-Chancellor." Dagon narrowed his eyes at the man, "If one word of this gets out of here, the Empire will make sure our trail goes cold."

 

Pryce furrowed his brow and frowned, setting the hunk of slag on the table. It settled with a thunk on the wood.

"Dagon..." He folded his arms. "I can't tell you if the doonium is important for the construction of the weapon. But you're right, finding out where the Empire is getting its Doonium is a good place to start." He sighed in frustration and pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration.

"You've put me in a difficult position here," Pryce muttered. He glanced over Dagon's shoulder at the Loth-Wolf and Convor carving and shook his head. "But I'll trust in the Force that you know what you're doing. The road you're walking, its very dark and very lonely. You don't have to go it alone. We can work together." His thoughts drifted to the Kyber Arch. That was the whole meaning behind the bridge of kyber crystals pulled from fallen Jedi blades but it didn't just have to mean working with other Jedi. "The Order needs the support of the Alliance and the Alliance, well, we'd love the support of the Jedi. We've got too many threats coming our way to be at odds again."

 

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THE SAND-PANTHER AND THE NIGHTSHRIKE
EMPIRE AT THE GATES vol. I
Issue #3 w/ Dracken Pryce Dracken Pryce

Dagon believed the Vice-Chancellor's sincerity and he wanted to believe his sentiment could be extended across the rest of the Alliance's governmental structures. He wished to be that same starry-eyed padawan he had once been, but he could not. The divide had grown to the point where the other side was barely visible anymore. He was set on the path and he would carry that burden as he'd always done.

A thin, polite smile curved his lips, eyes cast down in contemplation before he rose and bid a parting nod to the Honorable Dracken Pryce.

"Thank you for your help and time, Vice-Chancellor." was all he could honestly offer.

The Jedi turned heel to leave the office.

Hope, even a kindle, should be preserved no matter what.

He dismissed the Corellian Whiskey from his thoughts permanently.​
 

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