Invasion Total Eclipse of the Heart || Objective 1: And I Need You Now Tonight

[Sibylla Abrantes]

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O B J E C T I V E - 1
W I E L U

Interacting with: Aurelian Veruna Cassian Abrantes Mauve Viktor Sylvain Arcadian Dominique Vexx
Nearby: Velok Brokentusk Decarii Tithe Annasari Arrik Straden
Named NPCS used: Vessa Minari, Tirum Dehn, Krenn Lido, Yalel Dray

"Such things have a way of malfunctioning ahead of events," Dominique replied quietly to Sibylla, "but I will do what I can." A hand slowly lifted to adjust the shades on the bridge of her nose with a lone finger.

Sibylla gave Dominique a subtle nod of gratitude, reminding herself that she needed to maintain her composure and the perception of firm, rational authority. This situation had escalated into a theatrical performance that required her to keep her racing thoughts and emotions tightly locked away.

In her mind, she viewed the scene like a Dejarik player, noting the positions, allegiances, and thoughts of everyone involved, while contemplating how their arrangement on the Dejarik board might shift.

It was proven that Dominique and Aurelian worked well in tandem with her, providing support and assistance as they presented various reasons why it wouldn't make sense for the Republic to jeopardize negotiations with Wielu -- especially after the prosperous year they had experienced together.

But if this Mauve and the Nar Shaddaa Bank -- or more aptly with every second that passed, very likely the peon of Black Sun Syndicate -- thought they could just bring up records, twist words, and label the Republic as lax in its duties and oversight, well then, they had another thing coming.

Which was a good thing that J'dor and Mauve had done their best to spew such lies, for while the scent of jasmine also hit Sibylla with that wake of sympathy and fear, the audacity of her claims managed to rile her up enough to rise above her need to lose her composure completely and try to comfort. Doing her best to calm her thundering heart and the same anxiety sensation left in the wake of her own internal struggle.

For the High Republic was, first and foremost, the Royal Republic -- elevated by courtiers of Royal Houses in liege with corporations and worlds who relied on their cleverness and eloquence to gain influence and power.

And if they had ever selected the worst Royal House to try and smear with a campaign of doubt and intrigue, then House Sal-Soren was it. Sal-Soren, despite its colorful history, had been one of the most transparent regarding the skeletons in its closet.

As the sound of blaster shots and ongoing fighting echoed in the distance, Sibylla lifted her chin. Her hazel eyes narrowed and sparkled with a kind of calm confidence characteristic of a woman seemingly unfazed by the fluttering in her throat and the twisting knot of anxiety in her stomach.

"Do not twist history and piecemeal it at your leisure, Ma'dam." Sibylla firmly retorted with a calm surety that belied her young age as her hazel eyes bore from J'dor to Mauve

"Every Royal House knows that story well -- one that is easily verified. Brandon Sal-Soren killed terrorists who assassinated his mother and father in cold blood. He was arrested and brought to Coruscant by his own sister, detained within the New Jedi Order in the Galactic Alliance, where he was then placed on trial and made to face his crimes, as required by the laws of that governing body."

Her eyes flickered over toward the councilmen and women and finally to Viktor Sylvain .

"Let it be clear. Bran Sal-Soren conducted such an act and served his time long before the Royal Naboo Republic charter of Crown Worlds was created -- and certainly long before it transitioned into the High Republic. Any responsibility and oversight was long since enacted by the Galactic Alliance and the New Jedi Order."

She turned her attention back to the councilors.

"Do not be fooled. For Brandon Sal-Soren's sister is none other than the Grandmaster of the Jedi Order -- and if she was willing to bring her own blood to trial, do you truly believe she would allow him to walk free if justice had not been served?"

A ripple of murmurs followed her words, even as her comm sputtered and gave a buzz. It was from Cassian. She read the contents quickly and gave a sigh of relief...just as another call seemed to be trying to come in at that exact time.

However, the sway and scent of Jasmine wafted through the air, and a wave of pity ebbed from the councilors like tidal waves. Pity. And fear.

"So then... what is going on here then? Why was Dumas killed? And who is responsible for it?" Councilor Dehn's emotions were heightened, and sympathy hit, but the sense of anxiety and alarm lingered, uncertain on whom to believe.

Yalel Dray's expression seemed clouded with those high emotions, but no longer hostile, "Well, when did it happen then?"

"Anyone can say things. We need concrete information! How can we trust them?!" But Krenn objected again, clearly unwilling to leave Mauve's side of the issue just yet.

It was Councilor Minari who, as ever, cut through the noise with clarity, her will stronger than the rest.

"If this occurred during Alliance oversight, it should be visible with a HoloNet search into the public records to verify the timeline, shouldn't it?" she said evenly.

x | x | x | x | x | x
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[Annasari]

CORPORATE COUNCIL CHAMBERS
CONFERENCE ROOM 2
ALEKIE ISLAND, WIELU
Decarii Tithe | Quinn Varanin | Velok Brokentusk

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The room around her may as well have been another galaxy, for all she noticed. Annasari's hand, covered in crimson, still held the offered pen. Blood pooled at her knees, a sea overtaking cheap carpet. It grew with every second as the councilor's body drained it's full capacity. The senator had seen blood before. Born to nothing, the streets of Nar Shaddaa were not kind - and the places that would put a roof over your head were worse. Yet, none of the patrons she had seen bruised, battered, or slain were quite as graphic as Durnas was.

How funny, that thieves and bounty hunters should get a prettier death than a rich and powerful business man.

Blood dripped with the shake of her hands.

“Senator?”

Words failed. There was hopeless eternity in the moments after trying to muster them. Did she not understand they had lost?

"PULL. YOURSELF. TOGETHER."

Cold, calculating instinct screa, breaking the heat of the fluids which covered her. The stylus tumbled to the floor as she released her grip on it - and she grasped for any lifeline instead. Tithe was wrong - the logic returning insisted that. There was little hope in gathering a signature. In a matter of minutes, the building would be chaos, dreamy paradise interrupted by swarming security. This battle was lost... but the war was not over.

"No.... No. That won't happen. This deal died with him. If we win this, it will be through perception and sympathy."

Nudging past the body, the senator began to crawl, making her way to the broken glass and rubble that scattered across the floor beyond the table. Once, she had taken a flesh wound in an assassination attempt, shortly after she had started the guild. It had set Meera and Errant fussing about her endlessly with the way she bled. Lots of blood vessels, she recalled her Echani aid saying.

A sharp enough piece was identified. Without ceremony, Anna snapped the edge across her ear and side of her head. A sharp gasp was the only sign of weakness shown. She then took the shard between both hands, and thrusted it into her gut, just deep enough to hurt more than a sting. A shudder rolled down the course of her spine. Tossing the makeshift weapon aside, she fumbled for the edge of the table, then for Decarii's shoulder.

"You help me out of here." Anna's voice was low as she crafted their story. Blood oozed from her wounds, sprinkling the lawyer. "They tried to kill me. They wanted to shake our democracy. They wanted to destabilize the corporate council. We will not be intimidated, and we will protect Wielu. A member world will not fall to lawlessness."

The nightly news would eat it up.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Objective 1 - Side Story (?) //:
//: Velok Brokentusk //: Arris Windrun //:
//: Mauve //: Annasari //: Decarii Tithe //:

The collision was expected, and Quinn felt a sense of pride shoot through her. Not only did she block and deflect the blaster shots, but she also drove him nearly out of the conference room. The pheromones continued to swirl in the girl's head, latching onto that sense of pride and embellishing it. It was almost a guarantee that she would receive praise, and the thought warmed her heart.

What Quinn didn't anticipate was the reaction from the Whiphid.

The world suddenly darkened as Quinn couldn't change her direction in time to avoid his massive trenchcoat. In one fell swoop, she was swallowed by the fabric. Panic settled in as she tried to pull and tug at it. In any other instance, she would have pulled it with her as she tried to run or drew her weapon and cut through it.

Something lingered in her mind to keep her there, because if she moved, if she ran away — he would get Mauve. As the Princess became further tangled in the jacket, a loud crack echoed in the hallway. And what followed was something Quinn had only felt once before.

On instinct, she protected herself with Tutaminis. If it were a blaster bolt, she'd be able to absorb it and redirect the energy to help her escape the fabric hell. But, unfortunately, because she couldn't see the gun or the direction that it was coming from, Quinn was unable to sense through the pheromone fog the danger.

Arris's shot, while intended for another target, found its way through the tender porcelain skin of the Echani. The Tutaminis drained the bullet of its protective energy casing. Still, the bullet ripped through flesh and muscle as if it were paper.

A tiny, painful yelp came from the Echani as her brain registered through the mental fog that she had been shot. That the crack in the air, the stench of burning air, and now the taste of blood, all of it, hit her at the same time.

Another cry of pain as her hands cupped over the right side of her lower chest. Blood spilled over her hands, and she didn't need to see it as the warm, sticky liquid on her fingers was enough to know. Again, Quinn whimpered. It was happening again, the pain burning through her as every nerve and ounce of energy kicked into survival.

She was dying again. It happened once before, but this time Srina Talon wasn't there. No one was there. Before she could panic more, the Whiphid lifted her up and tossed her through the wall. The impact elicited a painful cry from the girl. She was unprepared, and her mind was in pieces.

Luckily, the throw allowed her to find an opening in the coat, and she was seeing light again. Her eyes were frantic as she looked. Mauve wasn't there, but the Whiphid still was, and so was the woman holding the gun. She coughed, and blood now spilled between her lips; whatever she was shot with was something meant for the beast.

Breathing became hard, every breath more and more shallow. She couldn't cry for help; she couldn't even beg to live. There was only one thing left, and suddenly she could feel the world collapse inward on her, but the body still moved.

Demeanor changed, and the fog lifted from behind the girl's eyes. Orange Sith corruption bled into her once viridescent irises.

The gunshot no longer mattered despite the blood pouring from the open wound. Quinn's feet settled, a stance widening as she exhaled, calming the short, rapid breaths she had been taking. It was as if the Echani were a different person; in reality, Quinn had retreated, handing off the reins to another.

The stoic yet relaxed stance mirrored Shii-cho; her feet dug in as the Force flowed through her. Her body hardened, becoming a weapon despite the weakness it felt. Death was imminent, but that wasn't the Echo's problem. It was here to finish the job.

Quinn once more shot forward, the Force enhancing her speed, but differently this time. Instead of being a blinding shot, she moved with power behind each step. She closed the distance as her fist sparked with lightning. As she planted her first foot, the Force focused on the fist and the lightning as she aimed to strike him once more where she had before with the sphere.

In the same stride, Quinn's free hand caught the hilt of her lightsaber. The empowered punch was a minor distraction. If it connected, it would be a bonus, but in a fluid motion, the saber ignited its brilliant amber blade. The blade arced upward, reversed grip, her arm snapping high — before she plunged it downward into the Whiphid's form.

The Echo of the Conqueror of Ten-Thousand Worlds, Darth Desimus, Sith Empress of the Eighth Empire, had pushed forward to protect her daughter.