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

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Objective 1 Side Story //:
//: Allies: //: Mauve //:
//: Enemies: //: Annasari //: Decarii Tithe //:
//: Target: //: Velok Brokentusk //:

Zeltrons, Fallen, Bith, Rodians, and the Aing-Tii are some of the few species known to use pheromones for communication or mating rituals. Zeltrons, however, were exceptional in their ability to control the release. But no matter how special any of them were, Quinn Varanin was highly allergic.

Fortunately, she escaped the worst symptoms. No swelling, no sores. She could breathe fine. But her mind? Vulnerable. Despite the near-perfect mental control drilled into her since birth, Quinn had never been able to resist. Her will bent—molded—under suggestion.

Because of this, the young Princess had a strict routine: one allergy suppressant every day without fail. It had been that way ever since they'd discovered she inherited her mother's sensitivity.

But today, they failed her.

Mauve was different. Her pheromones didn't operate like a typical Zeltron's—not in a way Quinn could easily categorize. As she watched the woman confront the councilor and two Republic representatives, Quinn took a step forward…

And that's when it hit her.

The air bloomed with jasmine. Sweet, rich, and unexpected. Quinn inhaled without realizing. It was lovely—a scent rarely found in her world. The softness of it wrapped around her senses like a warm invitation. An involuntary grin curled on her lips. She let out a light, giddy laugh.

"Mauuuve~" she sang, stepping closer, eyes only on the Zeltron. The others faded into the background.

It wasn't until one of the representatives opened the door that she noticed the visitor.

"Who's this?" she asked, blinking slowly, gaze falling to the Whiphid.

He held a weapon. Somewhere, a warning flared in Quinn's brain. But the haze churned. Why were they here again? Why had Mauve brought her into a conference room?

It didn't matter.

Only one thing pierced the fog, something Mauve had said. Something with intent.

And maybe then we can discuss..." she trailed whispering fingers across Quinn's arm as she walked past, "who missed who."

The memory flared. Combined with the pheromones and the heat behind Mauve's words, it snapped Quinn to action. Her fingers sparked. A crimson bolt of electrical energy surged between her hands, forming into a sphere.

She didn't hesitate. Quinn quickly hurled it toward the Whiphid and the representative.

"At least he knocked," she said with a smirk, her judgment still swimming in haze.

They were enemies. All of them.

All except Mauve.

 

[Mauve]

Conference Room 2
AKA
Red Room
(As opposed to Conference Room 1 - Blue Room)

SOLE OCCUPANTS: Councillor Durnas, Decarii Tithe , Annasari , Quinn Varanin , Velok Brokentusk ?
​

It’s just, the name you know. Nar Shaddaa. Doesn't exacly conjure images of financial stability does it?”

Mauve's lips turned into a pout at Tithe's words. She'd an idea where this line of dialogue led and Tithe's companion, Annasari, only confirmed it. Peace, Stability, Security. Of course. These words were music to an investor's ears. Volatility was a death knell. Unless, that volatility brought you staggering returns. Two hundred percent pure profit returns. As both an artist and an art dealer, Mauve knew exactly how those sort of returns were achieved. Blind luck, to the one in a billion. And to others? Crafted through ruthless schemes that twisted laws into loopholes or outright broke them in the pursuit of profit.

Buy a painting from an up and comer for 15,000. Have it priced by a close friend at 15,000,000. It was all about who you know.

And Mauve had friends everywhere.

She opened her mouth, then heard Annasari's next words.

“Expecting someone?”

Frowning, Mauve looked toward the doors and beheld a nine foot monstrosity in a trench coat. Oddly familiar.

Then it hit her.

The Whiphid with the bloodstains.

The stains Mauve still hadn't been able to scrub off. Her heart leaped into her mouth. Things happened quickly and before she knew it, Quinn was in action.

"Quinn - WAIT!"

Too late.

A crimson bolt of electrical energy surged between her hands, forming into a sphere.

She didn't hesitate. Quinn quickly hurled it toward the Whiphid and the representative.

No. No. This couldn't be happening. She couldn't lose control of this situation. She had been so close.

"Stop!" she cried, sliding off the desk and having the presence of mind to tap her bracelet, activating her personal shield. She stood close to the Councilor. Very close.

Reaching out with her empathy she felt the swirl of emotions from the Whiphid, from the Republic officials, from Quinn herself. She tugged on those, pushing them toward obeisance even as the smell of jasmine - pheromones - grew thick in the air.

"QUINN, STOP!"

Holding out both her hands, she raised them in a gesture of surrender.

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

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

Interacting with: Aurelian Veruna Dominique Vexx Viktor Sylvain
Arcadian @

Nearby Cassian Abrantes

Sibylla's lips quirked at the humorous remark regarding her questionable need for a babysitter.

No, she didn't need one, but she understood Cassian's concern -- and to be honest, with the growing unease she was feeling regarding the matter, perhaps not unwise to have additional surveillance.

As it was, there was no time to continue the conversation; they had the upcoming meeting with the Council to consider as well as to determine just what was going on.

Too many factors and variables were being juggled, and Sibylla did not like them one bit. It made her wish to be able to message Senator Dominique Vexx had the blackout not snuffed out that option. The young Ambassador knew that if there was anyone who might have an idea of what was going on, it was she. Or at least, perhaps, a backup plan on hand for what or where to look. Dominique was the one person she knew who was equally skilled at technology as she was in the Assembly chamber. There was a reason why the woman of Denon was the Senator of that planet, and Sibylla had every confidence in her.

Needless to say, once the duo entered the chamber, warmth lit her gaze upon noticing Dominique seated in the chamber, already making conversation.

Good. So they were not caught unawares, and very likely that the woman had already had some idea of what was going on -- especially as Sibylla's hazel eyes swept across the room to take in who else was present.

Aurelian's theatrics were part of the theater, letting his dramatic entrance draw the eyes, the attention, and the pressure of the room exactly as he intended. Meanwhile, Sibylla entered with quieter gravity, her expression cordial and pleasant, her steps light with every swish of her gown as they stepped inside.

As her gaze drifted and swept across the room with a practiced calm, looking for the familiar faces she had spent time researching on, reading over their profiles, desires, wants, platforms, and previous decisions regarding Wielu, as well as with their public and not so public corporate interests.

Because these were not just Corporate executives, they were council members, and each would be swayed based on different considerations.

Just like Viktor Sylvain. Now why was he here?

Where was the Senator? From her understanding, the Denonite was part of the Direx Board...

There was a slight narrowing of her eyes. That unease swept down her spine again, reminding her of what happened back on Cularin and the Senator who had conveniently been indisposed during Senator Vonn's bid for her amendment. The one currently facing alleged charges of working directly with Black Sun Syndicate.

Her eyes lingered on the unfamiliar pair, Arcadian and then at the Nikto standing guard near him. Or was he more than a guard? She studied the set of his shoulders, the tension in his stance. He had the look of someone prepared to speak....or strike. The body had a way of giving tells, and with kinetic communication, more was relayed in regards to intent than met the eye.

The Nikto and Arcadian were hiding something. It was all the more evident when those they represented came forth.

The First Bank of Nar Shaddaa -- a world deep within Black Sun Syndicate territory.

And here they were, with no signal, no exit, no oversight. Now, more than ever, Sibylla's suspicions became more concrete in the wake of the communication blackout. Connecting the Navpoints didn't require much. A lack of communication and a missing Senator... then the arrival of representatives of the First Bank of Nar Shaddaa. A thoughtful, quiet glance was sent to Dominique and Aurelian in knowing.

With Shiraya's blessing, Cassian will find the origin and resume connections to find out exactly what was going on and fix it.

She took her seat beside Aurelian and Dominique with quiet composure, giving a cordial smile, setting her own data tablet in front of her. While comms may be jammed, direct messaging was not. Perhaps they'd be able to communicate among themselves.

"Ambassador Sibylla Abrantes, I am here in stead of Senator Sarn of Enarc, who is indisposed," she said, her smile easy, inviting, but watchful as she turned slightly to Arcadian, offering a diplomatic incline of her head.

"Of course, competition is healthy," she said smoothly, gaze sweeping across the table. "But so are the certainties that come with trusted infrastructure and reliable markets. The Republic offers a foundation not of theory, but of results."

She folded her hands gently in on top of the table, tilting her head in composed curiosity.

"Perhaps we can begin this conversation on what are the concerns the Council has that resulted in the composition of this meeting?" She asked, looking at the panel of council women in the chamber... but missing one. Durnas.

"After all, the High Republic's expansion has brought a measurable increase in trade stability and planetary tourism across multiple sectors. The markets we've seen open are not collapsing but thriving. Profit margins, as I understand, are quite generous…"

Then, her tone warmed again, seamlessly, the way her mother once taught her to guide a conversation from edge to ease.

x | x | x | x | x | x
​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Aurelian leaned into Dominique, like they were gossiping at a gala instead of navigating a high-stakes summit, where syndicate whispers hung heavy in the air. "You handled the room well, Senator," he murmured, a faint grin touching his lips. "I hope you weren't too bored without us." His fingers idly traced the edge of his datapad, eyes still sweeping the room, his easy charm a thin disguise.

Then Arcadian spoke again, and Aurelian fought the urge to roll his eyes right there in front of the Corporate Council. He turned his head slowly, the smile that met the Ubese's gaze polite, practiced, and completely fake.

"Ah, yes. Future King. Not a common title, I agree. And that's rather the point," Aurelian said, tilting his chin upward. "I speak it into existence, just as the Republic once spoke 'unity' across the stars and made it real. That's what great architects of peace do, isn't it? We shape possibility into legacy." His voice had the rhythm of performance, but none of its emptiness.

"I don't hide behind any throne," Aurelian continued. "I work for it. Every day. On worlds like this. In rooms like this. I stand here, unguarded, not as an heir, but as a servant of my people. Naboo demands leaders willing to stand on the front lines of diplomacy, not just sit in marble palaces and send emissaries to do the bleeding."

He let that thought linger for a moment, then softened his expression. "That's why I'm here. And why I wasn't aware the First Bank of Nar Shaddaa would be joining us," he added with a light shrug, as if an uninvited guest had raided his private bar. "But I too welcome the challenge. If this council seeks the most prosperous future for Wielu, then let every offer rise. Let the best one win. I have no doubt the Republic's will stand tallest."

He glanced at Sibylla then, a genuinely respectful look in his eyes, an unspoken nod to proceed. This wasn't a solo act. Not today. As she spoke, he watched her weave steadiness and subtle pressure into each phrase. A perfect tempo. A steady hand on the tiller. Measured grace hiding sharpened points.

He waited for her to finish, then leaned forward slightly, addressing the Corporate Council directly, fingers lightly steepled. "What my colleague says is precisely what's at stake," he stated, his voice calm but cutting. "Certainty, stability, credibility. The Republic's strength is its partnerships. Look at Denon."

He gestured lightly to Dominique with an open hand. "Denon is no stranger to enterprise or self-governance. Their factories run, their shipyards flourish. Why? Because the Republic didn't come to shackle them. We invested in their independence. We gave them the tools to grow without letting the galaxy's underworld dictate their balance sheets."

He turned his attention slowly, deliberately, to the end of the table where the Bank's entourage lingered like carrion birds. "And now Wielu faces a choice: legacy or leverage. A galaxy of open ports and rising markets under Republic stability, or backroom dealings and quiet debts owed to syndicates dressed as lenders."

His gaze never left Arcadian. "The Republic may not offer the fastest credits, but it offers the cleanest." Then the smile returned, warm and laced with challenge. "Besides, Councilors, you strike me as the kind who prefer to run your own planet. Not answer to one."

He leaned back again, crossing one leg neatly, as if he hadn't just lobbed a thermal detonator onto the negotiation table. He shared a sidelong glance with Sibylla and Dominique, a spark of mischief beneath his polished facade.

Dominique Vexx | Sibylla Abrantes | Arcadian | Viktor Sylvain | Cassian Abrantes​

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

The seat slid back behind her as she rose and opened the door. A tusked, hulking monstrosity with a gun met her face first. Swallowing, she stepped back, allowing him uncontested entry.

A crimson bolt of electrical energy surged between her hands, forming into a sphere.

She didn't hesitate. Quinn quickly hurled it toward the Whiphid and the representative.

"Stop!" she cried, sliding off the desk and having the presence of mind to tap her bracelet, activating her personal shield. She stood close to the Councilor. Very close.

Reaching out with her empathy she felt the swirl of emotions from the Whiphid, from the Republic officials, from Quinn herself. She tugged on those, pushing them toward obeisance even as the smell of jasmine - pheromones - grew thick in the air.

"QUINN, STOP!"

Holding out both her hands, she raised them in a gesture of surrender.

VELOK BROKENTUSK
BOUNTY HUNTING LICENSE #006
SEEKING: 5 million credits
TOGGLE: Verified

CORPORATE COUNCIL CHAMBERS
CONFERENCE ROOM 2
ALEKIE ISLAND, WIELU
Quinn Varanin Mauve Decarii Tithe Annasari

Grandson of an old Sith lineage and once a Sith marauder of renown, he recognized the kinetite lashing out at him and the representative. It sparked dread, and there were other feelings too, an urge to stop, to obey that command-

At nine hundred pounds, he was not fast on his feet. The kinetite preempted and blotted out all feelings through noise and pain. He stood stupidly in the doorway, looking down at the ragged mess it had made of his blasterproof vest and the shirt and pelt underneath. At his mass, kinetite didn't send him flying, which risked increasing the damage, and that risk was currently shrieking its fulfilment right through his nervous system. He felt like he'd been hit by a charging mastmot.

He did however have that scaled-up Geonosian sonic gun, and he did not like the way this conference room was looking at him.

Geonosian sonic guns shot big green spheres of distortion, not too dissimilar to kinetite in their way. They just made an objectively better noise. He aimed at Mauve and her personal shield and wondered how well that shield would do in confined spaces against

WIBBLEDY
WIBBLEDY​

 

[Dominique Vexx]

OBJECTIVE I​

Dominique's smile widened a hair at the sight of Sibylla as the enterprising woman entered the chamber before she'd sat down. The young woman's discretion was a tribute to her House. She was even delightful and capable company. How it was she found herself in Aurelian's orbit so often... outwardly they were complete opposites. Looks could be deceiving, of course. Still, it wouldn't hurt if Sibylla hung around the Board more often; and they'd just have to visit a club one night together as they'd discussed.

One hand was laid atop the other as Arcadian, Sibylla, and then Aurelian set the wheels in motion. Dominique calmly turned her attention from one to the next, but mindful to as discretely check on the Council members present. Their mood and reactions were more important than any "zingers" either side got against the other.

Even when Aurelia thought to call attention to Wielu's neighbor, Dominique didn't let her mask slip. A serene smile of rapt attention to the speaker, taking in their every word. Every thing Aurelian said was true and might even be convincing to Corporate interests... and it still might, but she had doubts about its efficacy. There were circumstances time didn't permit her to share with the man ahead of time.

"There are winners and then there are losers in a game," Dominique added in response to Arcadian's quip. "From my read of the situation, the stakes include the future of not only Wielu, but the Corporate Council itself. Your world is a shining gem that influential and wealthy people from across the galaxy flock to. It doesn't need an unrivaled industrial base that threatens the pristine shores that set Wielu apart from most other worlds. It doesn't need a massive fleet cluttering its skies. Or armed guards at every corner to maintain the peace. What it needs is opportunity."

"Republic modesty demands they downplay their capabilities, but I can assure you that Denon can furnish any financial needs Wielu requires to explore those opportunities. As a flourishing neighbor we would be remiss to overlook your success, and would be invested in wiping away all barriers to your continued rise. Not just of legal matters influencing transactions, but of the integrity and confidentiality of your accounts, your interests, and your persons. We have some of the finest slicers in the galaxy with peerless experience against capable adversaries." Embarrassing as Darkwire's rebellion had been at times, they had certainly forced assembling people capable of thwarting their efforts to breach the core of the Corporate Authorities of Denon. "After all, it is not enough to acquire a windfall only to lose it due to absentee partners too focused on finances to fully appreciate the risk to your business pursuits."

Viktor might mediate, but Dominique wasn't about to let these two governments claim sole authority in a domain Denon was intimately familiar with. If anything, Aurelian's comment had her thinking perhaps certain ideas presented to her should be followed up on in full. The Republic didn't have the fastest credits? That would not be a difficult problem to solve provided the Senate was willing to play along. In the meantime, perhaps they could be that third-option everyone wish they had when sandwiched between powerhouses. Why shouldn't she at least make the option known?

After all, Denon was as capable of whatever Nar Shaddaa had on the table. Including anticipating the criminal actions they no doubt had in mind to influence the outcome. The communication blackout would limit short-term response, but one way or the other the Black Sun wasn't the only one capable of doing whatever it took.

Arcadian | Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Viktor Sylvain | Cassian Abrantes​

 

[Decarii Tithe]

CONFERENCE ROOM #2
CORPORATE COUNCIL, WIELU

Annasari | Mauve | Quinn Varanin | Velok Brokentusk

The High Republic contingent moved into their sales pitch, adapting quickly to the unexpected arrival of the First Bank of Nar Shaddaa's 'representatives'. Senator Vahl raised with the Councillor the concerns that tourists, who represented the bulk of Wielu’s economic activity, might not feel safe visiting a planet associated with unscrupulous elements.

Decarii was about to build on Annasar’s argument, noting the compliance risks of an unregulated loan, when all hell broke loose.

The room quickly descended into chaos with the unexpected arrival of the bounty hunter. The blonde Nar Shaddaa representative launched a fireball attack on the Whiphid, revealing herself as a Force user. The Zeltron representative tried to stop her before activating a personal shield.

Decarii lost sight of the battle as she pitched back in her hoverchair, tipping it over and spilling herself onto the ground. The lawyer dropped to all fours and scambered under the hardwood conference table for cover, hoping that it was genuine kall nut hardwood and not a cheap imitation. The room exploded around her as the bounty hunter opened fire. Spying Senator Vahl, Decarii quickly crawled toward her.

“WE NEED TO GET THE KARKING SIGNATURE!” Decarii yelled over the electronic whine of the bounty hunter’s sonic blaster. “THIS CONTRACT, IT’S AIR. TIGHT. YOU HEAR ME. AS SOON AS THAT KARKER SIGNS IT, WE HAVE THEM. EVEN IF HE DOESN’T LEAVE THE ROOM ALIVE, IT’S OVER. DONE, DEAD OR ALIVE.” She waved the datapad before the Senator, trying to make herself understood over the cacophony. The Aargauun was no stranger to clients trying to weasel back out of contracts, and had designed this one to offer no escape clauses for the Wielu Corporate Council once they signed.

Could a lawyer try to argue that the document had been signed under the duress of a blaster battle? Perhaps, but with Decarii’s clean winning streak in the courtroom, she gave herself better than even odds of a judge ruling in her favour.

“I’LL BUY YOU SOME TIME!” Decarii yelled as she tossed the datapad toward Annasari, who was closer to Councillor Durnas.

The lawyer took a deep breath to try to calm herself. She’d survived the courtrooms of Corulag, dealt with the cyber-gangs on Trandosha, and negotiated tax-haven status for Aduba-3. She could handle one bountry hunter.

This was just another opening argument.

“Hold your fire! We are diplomatic representatives, on official business under Chapter 31B of the High Republic Charter,” Decarii yelled to the bounty hunter, rising from behind the table with both hands visible. “Whatever business you have here, let’s work through it this. You’re a professional, OK, I can see that. So let’s talk this out. No one needs to die here today, so how about we stop blasting. A room full of dead officials is the last thing your employers want to deal with, am I right?.”

 

[Annasari]

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

​

Disdain was not her immediate stance on force users. She and the Jedi had coexisted peacefully, on Jakku, for two decades. The Alliance had their New Jedi Order who lived beneath the eye of the law. They, like all tools, had their values. Yet, in the board room, grasping at the wall like she wished she could mold herself into in, Annasari felt nothing but utter loathing towards the white haired girl who threw around lightning like it was a normal affair. She sung like a bird toward her zeltron keeper, but acted a wild dog when her master was threatened. This was a board room, by the stars, a place of civilization. It turned into a warzone as the whipid raised his gun in response.

“I’LL BUY YOU SOME TIME!”

Decarii was the voice of reason that brought her off the edge of hysteria. Instinct still responded in catching the data pad. The senator dropped to her knees, humiliation and fear surging, and made a break for the table. She crawled through the trenches, past Mauve's pink ankles, and yanked the still woozy executive down to join her.

"Is this really how you want to do business?"

The man was shaken. The endorphins from the pheromones still glazed his eyes, pupils wide as frying pans. Some part of him must have understood the fear - Annasari made note of the stain blooming at the top of his leg. He could not even make sense of her words, whiplashed from the sudden high into a quicker drop. Stuttering and gawking and the tiniest of sobs was all the response he was able to muster. A brewing frustration within the senator led to a slap that could be heard above the wail of the gun.

"PULL. YOURSELF. TOGETHER."

She set the data pad on the floor and shoved the stylus at him insistently.

"We can get through this alive, but we only protect our own."

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Objective 1 Side Story //:
//: Allies: //: Mauve //:
//: Enemies: //: Annasari //: Decarii Tithe //:
//: Target: //: Velok Brokentusk //:

The air burned. She could smell it filling her senses. The air, the stench of burnt fur, it all mingled with the haze clouding her mind. Voices echoed around her, and she could already feel another crimson blast starting to form again in her palm. Quinn closed her eyes for just a moment as the entire room slowed. She felt Mauve move; she could almost hear the pounding of her heart—or was that Quinn's?

She didn't know.

"QUINN, STOP!"

Mauve's voice echoed in her mind, stronger than the others. On command, the energy that was forming in her hand ceased to exist. It dissipated, returning to the Force as if nothing had happened. Her head throbbed as her will clawed its way forward, pushing through the fog.

She groaned, and the world snapped back into motion. Opening her eyes, Quinn realized she was staring down the barrel of the Whiphid's sonic blaster. There wasn't enough time for her to figure out how to avoid it or realize where Mauve was. Quinn knew this gun; the weaponry was well known and often used over conventional blasters.

Though its energy was still that energy.

Quinn, finally having a bit of focus, moved in a fluid motion. Stepping into the shot, absorbing it through the Force. If anything, she prevented the first shot from finding its target. Despite her recent clarity, the Echani was still heavily under the influence of the Zeltron. Yet, the order to stop wouldn't be obeyed; she knew that the woman was in danger.

The energy from the shot was recycled and fueled the Echani, who suddenly darted forward. Her instinctive force barrier deflected the second shot, forcing it to go stray and find another target. One that may have been moved away from the protective cover of the Zeltron.

Quinn didn't care; the Republic representatives were foul, taking away the councilor to scheme. She had no dog in this fight, and her mind focused on one entity's safety.

Mauve's.

Instead of her typically trying to avoid a counterattack, Quinn instead knew she needed to push the overgrown shag rug out of the conference room. It was the only way she could guarantee the safety of Mauve, and unfortunately, the others in the room.

With the Force fueling her, speed became violence—her lithe frame transformed into a battering force of momentum. Quinn dropped her shoulder and aimed to drive her entire body into the Whiphid, hoping to push him out of the room and as far away from his intended target.

Sorry Mauve.

 

[Mauve]

Conference Room 2
​

Mauve watched it all unfold in a daze.

This can't be happening.

The Republic officials were shouting over the chaos, panicked but professional as one of them tried to haul the counselor down to safety. Some distant part of her acknowledged their calm under pressure, admired it, wished she could emulate it, but she stood frozen in shock. She felt a cold sickness in her stomach and her skin clammy. Violet eyes stared wide into the barrel of the Whiphid's gun. Panic surged in her and almost without thought she tugged at the emotions of those in the room.

Help.

Help.

Please.

WIMBLEY

WIMBLEY​

I'm going to die.

Then Quinn was there somehow sucking the first blast into her, then deflecting the second orb of hard sound wobbling from the weapon away from her and into... and into-

Something sprayed across Mauve, spattering her clothing and face. It was warm. Why was it warm. She looked at her hands, coated and dripping with red, and choked out a disbelieving sob.

The headless corpse of Councilor Durnas slid sidewise, collapsing to the ground. Some part of her brain still capable of processing information told her that he must have half-risen from cover at her silent plea for help. Empathic telepathy.

Her vision hazed and tears slid down, tracking through the blood on her cheeks.

She saw Quinn charge straight for the Whiphid.

Mauve had never considered herself brave. Never been in a real fight, not like this, not even that Sith vault with the flesh clones.

She ran, kicking off her heels, gasping as she stepped in shattered glass. One of the panes must have broken from the energy blast Quinn through. Mauve hadn't noticed. Now she did, jagged edges cutting into the soles of her feet as she staggered on, tracking blood stains as she ran as fast as she could. She managed to squeeze an earring, activating a commlink.

Between snatched, sobbing breaths, "Arris, help. There's s-so much. So much blood."

Where to go... she didn't know where to go...

CONFERENCE ROOM 1​

Thoughtless, she burst through the doors of the primary board room - and petered to a halt as a dozen faces in business attire turned to look at her. She stared back, mind blanking out as blood seeped out around her bare feet onto the floor around her, face coated in someone else's.

Taking a shuddering breath, Mauve tried to steady herself, swaying where she stood, barely able to see through the mist in her eyes. Desperately, she thought. Something. Anything. How to explain? How. To. Explain.

"Republic," she panted, "Assassin. Killed Councillor. Durnas."

Arcadian | Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Viktor Sylvain | Cassian Abrantes | Annasari | Quinn Varanin | Decarii Tithe | Arris Windrun

 

[Velok Brokentusk]

“Hold your fire! We are diplomatic representatives, on official business under Chapter 31B of the High Republic Charter,” Decarii yelled to the bounty hunter, rising from behind the table with both hands visible. “Whatever business you have here, let’s work through it this. You’re a professional, OK, I can see that. So let’s talk this out. No one needs to die here today, so how about we stop blasting. A room full of dead officials is the last thing your employers want to deal with, am I right?.”

A brewing frustration within the senator led to a slap that could be heard above the wail of the gun.

Quinn dropped her shoulder and aimed to drive her entire body into the Whiphid, hoping to push him out of the room and as far away from his intended target.

The headless corpse of Councilor Durnas slid sidewise, collapsing to the ground. Some part of her brain still capable of processing information told her that he must have half-risen from cover at her silent plea for help. Empathic telepathy.

She ran, kicking off her heels, gasping as she stepped in shattered glass. One of the panes must have broken from the energy blast Quinn through. Mauve hadn't noticed. Now she did, jagged edges cutting into the soles of her feet as she staggered on, tracking blood stains as she ran as fast as she could. She managed to squeeze an earring, activating a commlink.

Thoughtless, she burst through the doors of the primary board room

VELOK BROKENTUSK
BOUNTY HUNTING LICENSE #006
SEEKING: 5 million credits
TOGGLE: Verified

CONFERENCE CENTRE HALL
UNEXPECTEDLY DEPARTING CONFERENCE ROOM 2 (RED ROOM)
Nearby: Quinn Varanin Decarii Tithe Annasari
Less Nearby But Likely Very Audible (Conference Room 1 (Blue Room)): Mauve Arcadian Sibylla Abrantes Aurelian Veruna Cassian Abrantes
Others: Arris Windrun

Several people were yelling and the Sith Lord appeared to have kinetited someone's head off. Or maybe the Geonosian sonic blaster hit harder than anticipated. In the old days that wouldn't have caused much guilt but it actually did now.

At which point Quinn Varanin struck Velok's traumatized chest and knocked him off his feet. The back of his head struck the doorframe and then there was no longer a doorframe.

He fell on his butt in the hallway outside the red room, now significantly redder. Having a Sith Lord or equivalent at close quarters blotted out all other concerns, including his sense that his blood trailed target was escaping and also quite a lot of pain.

His sonic blaster was a ruin embedded in the doorframe. He grabbed the broken frame for help getting to his feet and lashed out at the very small, very blonde person ( Quinn Varanin ) whose p=mv had somehow overridden his. He lashed out not with a punch - that would miss - but with a huge sweep of his titanic, tarpaulinic trenchcoat. Given the close quarters of what had recently been a door, he aimed to befoul and wrap her up and then punt her through the nearest available wall. It seemed best for everyone.

 

[Davik Haize]

...story continued from here!

---

An impenetrable silence swallowed the Duchess whole; an impregnable veil that suffocated all sound, all noise, even thought and clarity of mind. The essence of the void that was space: death made manifest. A foul sense of danger, of hunger never truly sated, permeated what little remained of the air pouring in from the remnant of the ship’s life support systems.

Yet, within the cockpit, where a small, hovering droid whistled a low, petrified tone, an ethereal flame flickered to light. Slowly, it grew within the guts of the brooding man, fueled by a memory etched into the very fabric of his soul. Lungs balloon and burst in silence; skin cracks and tears like dry parchment; eyes freeze wide open, never to shut, never to find peace.

… the eyes of a mother and the eyes of a father.

Eyes forever staring, never able to bid farewell to their only child.

A stare that would never leave his psyche until the day the child dies.

A storm of wings burst into the cockpit, screeching in hunger, swallowing it whole.

But today would not be the day Davik Haize died.

The Force exploded like a torrent, blasting the gnawing tempest into scattered bits and pieces, and Haize’s fists and kicks tore like turbolaser bolts through the parasites.

All the while, the Duchess continued drifting, now slowly picking up speed as it broke the first echelons of Wielu’s atmosphere, and the world’s gravity slowly but surely beckoned it to follow.

--

I put tags later smile​

 

[Arris Windrun]

CONFERENCE CENTRE HALL
On Approach
Engaging: Velok Brokentusk


Arris's subvocal comlink had been connected to another tucked away in the conference room where all had gone to hell. She listened in, even as initial chaos unfolded, but the Talusian was paid to listen.

Between snatched, sobbing breaths, "Arris, help. There's s-so much. So much blood."

So she did. The cybernetic beast marched casually down the hall as sounds of weapons fire, broken glass, and screams replaced the quiet. She wore a leather jacket that did little to obfuscate her cybernetics, and a pair of gifted holsters on her gunbelt--each carried her favorite piece. Metal fingers reached into her jacket pocket and absconded with a cheap cigarra. She held it unlit between her lips for now.

Arris saw Mauve flee the room for another, and shortly after, Velok Brokentusk came crashing through in his fight with Quinn Varanin .

Wait a second... Is that blood boy? She remembered the sight of a very similar whiphid spraying blood on Mauve's monitor during the Kaggath. Although Arris didn't really understand the circumstances, she figured him to be at least some kind of stalker, now upgraded to a violent maniac.

Her left hand fell hipside and fondled the grip of her pistol. Part of her tried to come up with a quip, something about 'let's see if whiphids reproduce by budding' or another, but instead, she drew the gun, aimed at one of his big meaty legs, and fired. She hated to interrupt another's fight, but business was business, and psycho fans were the worst.

Her other hand plucked the cigarra from her lips and held it to the red-hot end of the barrel.

Decarii Tithe | Annasari | Arcadian | Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Cassian Abrantes | Viktor Sylvain

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

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 Arris Windrun Davik Haize

Named NPCS used: Vessa Minari, Tirum Dehn, Krenn Lido, Yalel Dray

The hum of the conference chamber had changed.

What once felt like routine discussion now clung to the air with a strange heaviness, like everyone could feel something turning beneath the surface, even if they didn't quite know what.

Sibylla let her hands carefully rest on top of the table while Aurelian's theatrical flair drifted alongside her like smoke. Her voice followed his and Dominique Vexx 's, butnot in volume, but in balance and reason.

"Senator Veruna speaks with no shortage of flair," she said lightly, casting a small glance his way before turning back to the council. "But if I may... allow me to ground that spark in something more tangible alongside Senator Vexx's excellent points."

Sibylla's gaze swept across the four councilors, each seated with the careful posture of powerful individuals trying not to betray which way they leaned. Councilor Vessa Minari gave a small nod. Dehn, tapping something into his datapad with one long finger, still trying to get a connection, while Krenn Lido, ever the impatient one, was shifting in his seat like a man trying to hold back his opinion and failing.

Sibylla's fingers interlaced gracefully as she addressed them.

"I understand the concern here. You're not just choosing politics, you're weighing your futures. Long term returns. Market health. How your industries survive the next five, ten, twenty cycles."

She let her gaze move between them, including the remaining Yalel Dray.

"Wielu has legitimate economic pillars as confirmed by the Direx Board and during its time with the Galacti Alliance up until the Convergence, as per Assembly member Amare Veyan of Wielu -- tourism and trade. These aren't speculative markets. They're solid, and they do best when there's something stable beneath them. Something predictable. Like High Republic credits."

"I'll admit it," Minari said softly, "Tourist numbers have bounced back since the hyperlanes were reopened and the Five Viels route may increase it."

Tirum Dehn nodded. "And freight stabilization's taken hold. Our quarterlies show it."

"But stabilization doesn't expand our reach," Krenn muttered, half to himself. "The Bank's deal puts credits in hand now -- not five years down the line."

Yalel Dray leaned back in her seat, arms crossed. "Unless that credit comes at a cost. You don't always see the trap until the door closes."

Sibylla nodded once, then leaned slightly forward.

"Which is why I'm not asking you to choose blind loyalty. I'm asking you to look at the data. To recognize what others already have. PRiddy General, Dashiell Inc., Dashiell Retrofit -- look at Jhaessa Prime. Look at Christophis. At companies like Hex Incorporated, Ando Mining. All in worlds that are corporate run, all aligned with the Republic now. I can assure you as well, now with the Treaty of Twin Crowns with the Mandalorian Empire and their spread into the Abrion Sector to include Scarif and Roon, an increase in trade is even more imminent, with a current retainer on file for Defense and Responsive Services."

That made a few brows rise.

Even Lido blinked. "Christophis?"

"Yes," Sibylla said softly. "If even a world like that, along with the rest of the Confederacy-aligned worlds along the Mara Corridor known for prioritizing corporate sovereignty, has found value in the High Republic, that says something. Not in rhetoric. In credits. In expansion. In fact."

The silence that followed was thoughtful. Heads turned. A few datapads flicked to new reports. Xie Zyan even paused mid scroll.

And then came a distant thud!

The sound was soft. Subtle. But Sibylla's head turned almost immediately. Her brow furrowed. Then another sound, louder this time. Distant voices, something falling, more thuds. Something clearly wrong.

Her gaze flicked to the doors, then to Aurelian and Dominique.

What is going on?

She reached for her datapad and felt her pulse skip as the signal flickered. A bar. Then static. Then connection.

Her fingers immediatlely flew across the screen to message Cassian Abrantes .

Cassian -- do you hear that? Disturbance near our chambers. Confirm safety. Possible altercation.

She hit send.

But then came the blast from Quinn Varanin 's Kinetite.

Louder, and distinct now. That was no mere altercation. Sibylla felt alarm rush down like ice down her spine in growing suspicion, but instead of showing it, the young teenager refused to let it show just how much her stomach turned, her back straightening as she flicked her gaze towards House Veruna's guards.

"Let's have the guards investigate the matter," she said, calm but sharp turning back to the council, she fixed her eyes on the Nikto and the Arcadian , "This blackout has become more than a curiosity in the as the absence of Assembly member Amare Veyan of Wielu in the wake of an active investigationinto treason, sabotage, and conspiracy with Black Sun affiliates alongside the Bank of Nar Shadda's sudden interest with Wielu..."

Then Sibylla swiveled her head towards the Councilors.

"But while that's being handled, I'd advise we come to a resolution. There's no denying that a generous offer from the Bank of Nar Shaddaa looks appealing. But what good is an advance if it leads to instability? There are other companies I mentioned -- Rimward Logistics, the Trade Federation, Arceneau Trade Company -- they're not naïve. They've chosen the Republic because the Republic works. It's not a bet. It's a pattern."

She paused -- then added with quiet conviction.

"You don't need a miracle investor. You need a proven partner."

And then the doors blew open.

Noise. Boots. Shouting, then the Zeltron who had left the conference room earlier came stumbling foward.

Mauve .

She was covered in blood, her bare feet slipping on the polished floor as she stopped, blinking at the dozen stunned faces around her, chest heaving and eyes wide in shock.

"Republic," she panted, "Assassin. Killed Councillor. Durnas."

Everyone froze.

Sibylla stood instantly, her chair scraping behind her as guards surged forward. Several councilors rose in alarm, one nearly tipping their seat over.

"Secure the room!" she ordered, voice rising with authority. "Protect the Council."

Her heart was pounding now but her face didn't show it. She looked at Mauve, really looked. The panic was real. So was the blood. But her words? Republic assassin?

No. That wasn't right.

"We will investigate what's happened," Sibylla said firmly. "After the room is secure. No one assumes anything until we know the facts. Provide the injured woman with medical treatment and get a complete statement from her. I want absolute clarity on the situation. "

She turned to the council once more, her voice steady even as the room trembled.

"I want to make one thing very clear -- the REpublic did not employee assassins to assassinate anyone. Whatever has occurred, who ever is involved with this, we will get to the truth. But I urge you, Councilors… do not let panic dictate your judgment before the facts are known."

The murmurs and tension swelled, but Sibylla stood tall, her jaw tight and her hands steady.

A head swiveled towards Dominique Vexx , knowing what she was good at and what may need to happen next, murmuring to her quietly "We need to secure any holo recordings and witness of what exactly occurred immediately."

x | x | x | x | x | x
​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Aurelian didn't stand, not at first. While others flinched, Aurelian Veruna remained utterly still. His hands rested lightly on the chair arms, ankles crossed, his expression unreadable. A slight rise of one brow hinted at mild curiosity, as if someone had just spilled a drink on his favorite rug.

Blood gleamed on the chamber's polished floor, fresh and stark beneath Mauve's bare feet. Her ragged, trembling breath echoed in the sudden hush. Her face was streaked with traces of someone else's final moments. Aurelian simply watched, remaining seated. This, he knew, was the real negotiation.

"I have to say," he began, his voice soft and slow, eyes locked on Mauve's panicked gaze, "this is the most persuasive counteroffer I've seen all day." The words hung like silk above a knife.

Then he rose, smoothly, as if gravity were merely an option he chose to entertain for aesthetic reasons. One precise step, then another, the click of his boots echoing through the room.

Around him, chaos erupted. Guards moved, councilors barked and gestured. Vessa Minari already shouted for medics. Krenn Lido, red-faced and rattled, demanded to know who had breached security. Tirum Dehn scrolled furiously, still searching for a signal that refused to appear. Only Yalel Dray remained watchful, meeting Aurelian's eyes across the table. Her expression plainly stated: This stinks of conspiracy.

"Let me be absolutely clear," Aurelian announced, his voice slicing through the panic like a vibroblade through lace. He turned to address the room, the heir of House Veruna in his finest theatrical form. "This wasn't part of our pitch. The Republic does not make offers at gunpoint, nor do we clean up after syndicates with diplomatic immunity and a body count."

He continued, "Councilors, you have every right to be alarmed. What just happened is terrifying. It's meant to be." He gestured toward Mauve with a flick of his fingers, as if indicating a prop revealed too early in a play. "A bloodied woman stumbles in, incoherent, panicked, naming the Republic as her attacker. And this happens just as we present our side." He smiled. "Convenient, isn't it?"

Yalel Dray now stood, arms still crossed, gaze sharp. "You're saying it's staged?"

"I'm saying," Aurelian replied, "that if for some insane reason the Republic were going to assassinate someone, we wouldn't send a saboteur to butcher a councilor in the next room, then send his remains here covered in plausible deniability. That's not politics. That's theater. Bad theater."

Dehn looked up. "Then who? Who stands to benefit from this?"

Aurelian didn't hesitate. "Those who can't win a fair vote. Those who silence opposition when numbers fail. Those who count on panic, on fear, on chaos." His eyes slid to Arcadian. "The ones who bring an army and call it banking." He threw out a hand. "You want to talk about investment? This entire farce is your risk profile. This is what you buy into if you secede. A world where the moment someone says 'no' to a deal, they vanish. Or explode. Or walk into a room soaked in someone else's blood, unable to explain whose."

Mauve had fallen quiet, perhaps too quiet. Her shock seemed real, but her timing was too perfect.

Aurelian continued, turning his attention toward Councilor Lido, the most excitable of the four. "Earlier, you said the Bank's offer puts credits in your hands now. That's tempting, I know. But what good are those credits when your streets are run by private militias? When the next financial disagreement ends in fire? This isn't just risk. This is destabilization." His gaze flicked briefly to Dominique.

"The Republic doesn't send gunships to board meetings," Aurelian's voice dropped, urgent now. "We send delegates. We send aid. We send partners who, like Senator Vexx's own Denon, can thrive and expand while keeping their autonomy, and without someone like this," he gestured to Arcadian, "looming over every transaction." He turned to Sibylla, catching her eye, a flash of shared understanding between them. "We cannot let this derail the work we've done. We finish this. Now. For Durnas, and for the people of Wielu."

He looked again to the Council. "The choice is yours. Panic and shadows, or structure and sunlight. But I urge you, for your sakes, choose before someone else chooses for you."

With that, Aurelian stepped back behind his chair, not sitting yet, just waiting and watching. Every board, he knew, had a tipping point. And every storm revealed who was always in control.

@Errbody​

 

[Dominique Vexx]

OBJECTIVE I​

It was all rather adorable.

The way the Wielu Corporate Council pined after an expanded "reach." How concerned they are with credits in hand today rather than the near future. Well, of course corporations on Denon thought of the short-term profits how else were they so successful? But they were also well-established powerhouses that could leverage any number of methods in the pursuit of acquisitions. Wielu... could not. Dominique had been ever so polite when couching Wielu's prospects in their strengths. Strengths that did not lend the world to being a financial power player as some of the Council yearned to be. They would have to sacrifice everything they had in the pursuit of everything they did not.

And they might just try. Certainly if the Black Sun got their way. Only, everyone on the corporate side knew the inevitable outcome. Wielu would be a corrupted ruin. They'd be on par with some of Denon's less reputable Districts, but without the benefit of its incalculably wealthy counters. The short-term gains game was not for these people. But that didn't mean they couldn't still rise as she'd suggested. A pivot here. A bolster there. The opportunities were there if they weren't blind to the precipice they stood upon.

Sibylla laid out sweet temptations and reassurances, which pleased the Director of Denon. You certainly had to show your would-be business partners what they'd get out of any deal. Convince them it was in their best interests. A splendid treat by the capable woman.

The warmth that blossomed from such a pleasing turn, however, instantly evaporated the moment Lido echoed Christophsis' name, and everyone seemed to seriously weigh Sibylla's words with her name dropping the Mara Corridor as well. Christophsis? Mara Corridor? That was what got their attention? Not the powerhouse literally the next system over? Obviously these people didn't need any special treatment when it came to negotiations with Denon then, did they? They could go crawling to the other side of Republic space for favors.

Dominique wasn't that petty. Not that the thought didn't spring to mind, but prudent decision making didn't allow openly smacking the councilmembers in the face. Well, no going out of her way, perhaps, in lowering any interest rates at least.

A golden eyes peeked up from the narrow gap between her glareshades and her brow as Sibylla seemed to catch sound of a thud and soon looked at her companion. With a flick of her eyes, she had shifted her optics from information retrieval -- largely ineffective during the blackout -- to storage. "Let people say what they will, but the Republic does not have a reputation for ill-repute. Certainly not when it comes to financial matters. I can assure you, if Wielu requires an investment in the short-term for its pursuits, a way will be found." Dominique filled the moment that Sibylla took to send her message. Time to think was well and good for the council, but time to think too hard about the wrong thing was not.

And just like that little thuds became a muffled discharge. Dominique's lips thinned as her chin lifted a hair. She should have brought her CorpSec squad with her despite how it might have looked. They were well-trained, well-disciplined men and women just as suitable for this affair as Aurelian's host.

Sibylla's own effort to keep things on track was then interrupted as well, but with more dramatic flair.

Dominique turned her head slowly to the side in the direction of the door with her chin lowered. The glareshades hid the full view of her eyes, though her lips had once again lost the warmth of parlay and taken on a neutral line in the wake of the... unexpected guest and their halting accusation. Her chin rose slowly to level once more as Sibylla and Aurelian sought to take charge of the moment.

Mindful that Mauve had blood splattered across herself coupled with the sounds earlier that they all could be in harm's way, Dominique still managed to rise slowly to her feet as she pushed her chair away. Sibylla made the urgent plea and Aurelian would shortly address the council with a commanding persuasion, which left her free to do as she will. With one important ask.

"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.

"Dear, please," Dominique glided over toward the entrance where guards had begun to gather, her hand reached out to pull a chair closer, "sit. You're safe. Breathe slow and deep. Catch your breath and then tell us what happened." Her shades had dipped enough to visually cover the woman's entire figure before a broad smile graced her lips for Mauve's benefit. In short order there'd be a check on the entryway for signs of pursuit or scuffles with the guards as well.

If the pretty thing thought to take too much time to breathe deeply, or thought to evade an encounter, Dominique would only have that much more time to pursue the very thing Sibylla had asked. Wielu must have had decent security, but they weren't Denon. When you learned how to think and act like your enemy in the vain hope of getting closer to them, you picked up quite a few skills in slicing. If there were electronic evidence to be archived, Dominique could manage that much. After all, someone had gotten through the planet's security... how formiddable could it be?

Admittedly, that didn't bode well for the delegation, however.

Arcadian | Mauve | Sibylla Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Viktor Sylvain
Cassian Abrantes | Annasari | Quinn Varanin | Decarii Tithe | Arris Windrun | Velok Brokentusk | Davik Haize​

 

[Cassian Abrantes]

OBJ: 1
Tags: Sibylla Abrantes Aurelian Veruna Dominique Vexx

"Interesting....." The General whispered as he glanced down the hallway long after taking his leave from Aurelian and Sibylla. Several minutes had passed and he was already on the hunt and tracking down perhaps the location of this emitter that seemed to be jamming their communications. Cassian quickly passed from one room to the next. That was until he came upon the electrical room. Housing several components and devices for the maintenance of the building. Power, lighting and such.....

But how did it.....

The General's mind working out the problem one thing at a time as he followed the cable that led up and to the right of the wall.

"What do you know....." Cassian smirked as he looked to the right and could see a small device to the side. He removed it from the side of the electrical column and flipped the switch off. He glanced down to his communicator as he had then regained communication with the ship.

"That was either poorly planted....or...." Cassian felt a small chill creep up his spine before he turned his head, the tip of the blaster was pointed against his head.

"Back up, easy now. and turn around." Cassian complied and gave a small nod. "Alright, take it easy." Cassian turned around and before he could say another word, he reacted in lightning fashion. His hand grabbing hold of the blaster pistol tightly on his finger, as it wasn't on the trigger. And his right hand gave a quick succession of punches to his face. He fell to the floor and the General tossed the blaster into the room. He knelt down next to him as he examined him of any distinguishable armor or marks of any sort......

"Black Sun....." Cassian muttered as he shook his head. He placed the body of the Black Sun personnel inside the room and closed it behind him.

Cassian -- do you hear that? Disturbance near our chambers. Confirm safety. Possible altercation.

"I read you Sister, communications disruptor is offline. I'm heading your way, stay close to Aurelian." Cassian flipped his commlink to their shuttle as he voiced command for what household guard had accompanied them, which wasn't much. "Ready yourselves, if I give the signal the VIP's must be evacuated."

The noise was heard no doubt, however he was dealing with his own intruder. He moved with a increased intensity and quickness and it appeared he would be upon the disruption which was group of people. Quinn Varanin Arris Windrun Velok Brokentusk

Annasari

 

[Mauve]

Rumors were like a grease fire. Once started, no amount of watering it with truth could ever seem to quite put it out. The harder you denied, the more the fire seemed to grow. And right now there was one hell of a grease fire in the board room at Wielu.

"Dear, please," Dominique glided over toward the entrance where guards had begun to gather, her hand reached out to pull a chair closer, "sit. You're safe. Breathe slow and deep. Catch your breath and then tell us what happened."

Mauve nodded weakly and limped to a seat nearby, still struggling to catch her breath. Her mind raced, her heart felt like it would explode out of her chest. And as she thought, those thoughts began to spiral. If she failed here, the Underlord would know. If she failed, if she - as the target of a bounty - was responsible for the loss of Wielu? Mauve shuddered, cold fear leeching the warmth away from her.

But how? The Republic officials were all talking, all at once. So many words. So many pretty speeches about the way things were. Well suited to board rooms and high society, aristocrats all. Mauve was no aristocrat. She was just a girl from the gutter who had managed to crawl all the way up to the top of the skyscraper. And now she found herself looking over the precipice of that scraper. It seemed a long fall back down.

"The Republic doesn't send gunships to board meetings," Aurelian's voice dropped, urgent now. "We send delegates. We send aid.

Mauve's mouth opened and closed. How to respond?

Suddenly, she did not have to. Someone in the back cleared their throat loudly and stepped forward. Mauve's eyes widened. It was her manservant, J'dor.

"Esteemed representative, a thousand pardons, but your words are... lies."

And with that, the Nikto pulled up a handheld hologram projector and began to play footage. Footage from the Jedi Archives - the same Archives that Mauve had just recently acquired in their entirety. She had set J'dor and several others to the task of sorting through the data to compile dossiers on the Jedi. J'dor had done his homework.

Bless him.

The service record of Brandyn Sal-Soren, Jedi Master of the High Republic's Jedi Order, filled the conference room, scrolling until it honed in on his trial for murder. A sentence he never served.

He had terminated the human-like droid that had been the direct hand of assassination. He had battled with and terminated the man that funded the mission. But the scientist who had created the synthetic compound used to kill his mother…no one would argue that Brandyn had not committed murder there.

Which is why Joran had taken notice of a particular case that was making its way around the Jedi Temple. A Jedi Knight who, according to the reports, had ended the life of an innocent man.

J'dor played several sound clips from the Archives in quick succession.

“You know my circumstances then, Master Jedi?” He said calmly, “you speak as one that excuses the line I willingly and knowingly crossed. The man I killed was guilty of much. But he was defenceless. I could have arrested him. I know this well enough. Another Jedi was there to prevent me from killing the man. And I had a moment to think. But I did it. And I would do it again…I know this deep in my heart. When I meditate…I know myself now. I also know it was wrong. It is only right that I be judged for my actions. Not absolved.”

"...the galaxy is better off without them. If that means it is better off without me freely walking the streets, then so be it."

The words hung in the air for a moment, then J'dor cleared his throat again.

"You may be wondering where Jedi Brandyn Sal-Soren is now. Prison perhaps? But no. He is a Jedi Master with the Republic." J'dor finished, then stepped back into line.

Yahlel snorted.

Dehn looked sharply at Aurelian. "Is this true?"

At last, Mauve inhaled a breath, exhaled, and spoke with a composure she did not feel, "The Republic representatives gild their words, but beneath their gilded words are knives. When they can't get their way... they kill. Just like their Jedi. Just like today. They were trying to get Durnas to sign some sort of document, then..." she looked away, "that beast came in and shot him when he wouldn't." She took another deep breath, then looked each of the councilors in the eyes. "You may have your doubts about Nar Shaddaa, but we know what we are - and you do too. And we don't murder people in board rooms in broad daylight. Please. Don't trust them."

The scent of jasmine hung thickly in the air and pity ebbed from the councilors like tidal waves. Pity. And fear. Mauve let the pity flow, let it rise high.

"Perhaps the girl has a point," muttered Yahlel.

"I still want to hear about this Jedi murderer on the loose," Dehn remarked.

Outside, the crack of gunfire punctuated the air.

Arcadian | Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Viktor Sylvain | Cassian Abrantes | Annasari | Quinn Varanin | Decarii Tithe | Arris Windrun Dominique Vexx

 

[Davik Haize]

Haize wiped the blood trickling from his mouth and shoved aside the smashed mynock carcass still draped over the control yoke. He slumped into the pilot’s seat and something squished beneath his boot – another dead mynock. With a grunt of disgust, he kicked it away, sending it thudding against the bulkhead. Around him, the cockpit had become a graveyard of ruptured leathery bodies and torn wings.

From somewhere within the pile, Skip surged free. The droid let out a jubilant trill, then, as it noticed the Duchess drifted silently toward Wielu, its tone shifted to a low, mournful whistle.

“Wait, what? Say that first thing again,” Haize muttered.

Skip hovered closer, emitting a string of beeps that seemed to radiate with pride (as much as a droid could radiate with pride). He’d recovered a partial feed from the Spacer Guild before the mynocks had hit, part of the data scrap Davik had deleted himself.

“An emergency political meeting between the Pubs and Wielu?” Davik raised a bloody eyebrow, unimpressed, “Why the hell would I ca–”

Skip cut him off, chattering sharply, then flashed a sequence of lights across his photoreceptor.
​

LAND. PLANET. RESCUE.

Davik paused.

“That’s what the Pub ship was beaming?”

A single confirming whistle came in return.

Davik scoffed and shook his head, turning his focus back to the dead ship. “Let’s worry about rescuing ourselves first.”

Rich dignitaries could rot for all he cared. Or so he told himself. But as he stared out through the cracked viewport, watching Wielu draw ever closer, something gnawed at his heart. As much as he pretended to be indifferent, the idea of vulnerable people down there waiting, helpless, wouldn’t leave him.

Later, he told himself.

Other things came first.

He glanced around the blood-stained cockpit: burnt metal, torn wiring, corpses, blood, many corpses – it was hard to focus, harder still to know where to start; helplessness pressed down his shoulders. And from that helplessness, anger began to stir, boiling up from his gut until its crimson smoke clouded his mind with a thick red veil.

Davik would kill whoever was responsible for this, kill him twice, thrice even–

“Damn it!” his fist came down on the console like a sledgehammer, making Skip jump startled.

The Warden of the Sky hunched forward, breathing heavily, fists clenching, unclenching, then clenching again.

“I need to–”

Breathe.

Huh?!

His eyes widened, and his head shot up as if the man stood right before him. The word drifted through his mind and away, gone as if it had never been there before.

Master?!?

But the presence was already gone. Waylon of Arkanis, his dead mentor, left only an echo of tranquility in his transient wake.

His wayward apprentice straightened. He drew in a slow, deep breath, letting it temper the rage inside him and dull the fire to embers. Just enough to revive his clarity of mind.

He nodded once in understanding.

“Let’s figure out how we’re going to make it down alive,” he said, voice laced with cautious optimism.

TAGS: Aurelian Veruna Cassian Abrantes Mauve Viktor Sylvain Arcadian Dominique Vexx Velok Brokentusk Decarii Tithe Annasari Arris Windrun Sibylla Abrantes ​

 

[Decarii Tithe]

CONFERENCE ROOM #2
CORPORATE COUNCIL, WIELU

Annasari | Mauve | Quinn Varanin | Velok Brokentusk | Davik Haize

Decarii’s attempts to deescalate the situation failed. The blonde Bank of Nar Shaddaa ‘representative’ deflected the bounty hunters’ weapons fire and changed the Whiphid, launching him back out into the hallway. The lawyer turned to see if Senator Vahl had secured the support of the Wielu Corporate Council, only to find a headless Councillor Durnas slumped on the ground. The Zeltron from Nar Shaddaa, covered in the councillor’s blood splatter, darted out of the room.

In an instant, the High Republic’s negotiation strategy had fallen apart.

Their plan was predicated on securing the signature of a senior Wielu official. With Durnas dead, they would need to find another suitably qualified person to execute the contract. Decarii began muttering to herself, recalling lines of the Delegated Authority Act No. 1 (High Republic) 901.

“A contract, once executed, is not invalidated by the death of one or all signatories,” she repeated, channelling her Chandrillan law lecturers. In the chaos of battle, the cold neutrality of the legal system provided a stable grounding. “Where two or more signatories must countersign a contract, the responsible party shall not cause the contract to be lodged until the required number of signatories has signed the contract.”

Decarii’s commlink pinged once, twice, and then a constant stream of notifications - the Wielu communications blackout had ended. The lawyer tapped the device to mute it. Her clients would need to wait.

“In the event of incapacitation, approval may be granted by a planetary official of equal or most senior posting.”

That was it.

With Executive Councillor Durnas dead, they would need to find another Executive Councillor from the Corporate Council to sign the contract, or even the Archcouncilor herself. With communications restored, they could transmit the document back to the High Republic the moment it was signed and witnessed.

“Ma’am, we need to find another Councillor, any of the old karkers will do,” Decarii explained as she gathered her personal effects and stuffed them into her bag. She noticed a stain on her jacket and tried unsuccessfully to wipe it off before she realised it was brain matter from the slain Councillor. “We can salvage this, trust me. Get the signature, send the contract, done deal. It's legally binding, Nar Shaddaa can’t come back from this.”

Annasari wasn’t moving and seemed to be deep in thought.

“Senator?”