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Coruscant - Galactic Throne


Exodus

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Azael raised an eyebrow. He was young. Barely into his adult years, if even that old. He flew in a junker, an old X-Wing, probably dating back to the Galactic Civil War. It's probably what he wanted the hyperdrive for- It was the right type, and it looked like he'd put a lot of work into the restoration of the vessel. She hook his hand firmly, motioning for him to follow her aboard her ship, where she had the hyperdrive stored. It was also soundproofed and nearly impervious to audio bugs, which would allow them to discuss business discreetly. 

 

"You can call me Azael, Jude calls me Aze, you can call me Zu-Zu if you want, doesn't really bother me. Now, if you've never done something like this before, I'll show you that I have the 'drive, you can inspect it, make sure it's the right type and in working order, then you'll give me the credits and offload it yourself."

 

She climbed aboard, showing him towards the cargo space where she had stashed the hyperdrive.

 

"Finding it was a pain. Had to dodge Sovereign patrols to get into the exclusion zone, and then I had to fight a starfighter that was in-tact enough to be a potential salvage option. Went through fifteen ships digging through hyperdrives to find this one, and even this one took a little bit of work to get back into working order. Here she is."

 

She gestured at the hyperdrive, stepping aside to give the boy better access.

 

"Why buy under the table? Why not a commercial model?"

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He peered around into the cargo hold with the drive core. It was well-intact, ready for installation. Elliot smiled upon seeing it, and he turned to Azael, quick to scorn his smile away before she could see his childish nature. He knew all about the scavenging of such a piece of tech, rolling through hundreds upon hundreds of downed ships on Bracca looking for specific parts and chromium pipes was his typical business on his homeworld. He approached the tech, and was impressed by how cleanly she was able to recover such a piece. Elliot began working almost immediately, strapping the core to a small dolly and wheeling it down into the hangar bay beside his own ship. He knelt over , squatting over the parts and popping open his X-wing with unreasonable speed. He stopped suddenly, and remembered to send the credits on his datapad before he returned to installation.

 

His words didn't interrupt his work, finally closing the long silence between them during his intense focus," Commercial model isn't powerful enough. I wanted military tech, regardless. What did you pull this out of? Looks like it came from an X4, but it's small. Had to be from a newer model, or from an S91? Lots of these Incom starfighters use hyper-cores like this."

 

He used the robotic dolly to install the hyperdrive core into his ship, fastening it in place and assembling it back with the plating after, taking a step back and admiring his ship, newly improved. After the installation, although awkward and impromptu, he turned to Azael again, finally seeing her and not right past her to the cargo. He hadn't seen many Chiss on Coruscant not in the Imperial Navy, and he cornered his gaze to her clothes, looking for an insignia or emblem. 

 

"Sovereign patrols, eh? Where should I avoid with this bad girl?"

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She followed him quickly out, resisting the urge to put a hand on her concealed blaster as he started to wheel the hyperdrive away. She had to remind herself that he was just an excited kid, not used to business like this. The problem with recruiting young is that many had potential, but lacked the experience to capitalize. As he spoke, she raised an eyebrow. He knew more than she did about starships, that's for sure.

 

"I wouldn't know, I know how to find one and how to take it out of a ship, but that's where my knowledge ends. I've always been better with software than hardware. For all I know I took it out of the Queen of Naboo's personal shuttle."

 

She checked her datapad, satisfied to see the agreed amount pending in her account. She met his eyes as he looked her over, crossing her arms as he spoke again.

 

"Well, anything over the crater is a no-fly zone. Too much old military tech for them to let civilians fly around. As far as traffic, in a fighter you'll need some kind of unit ID, either merc or official to not raise eyebrows and get yourself tailed or tracked. That, I can definitely help with. I can make you an ID real enough to get you offworld if you want, or just real enough to get you around the planet. It's up to you."

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He quickly shifted his eyes when she mentioned the sale of ID codes. Elliot thought for a moment, and decided that it would be ideal for him to have both counterfeit and legitimate identification for navigating the galaxy. His sovereign alliance registry codes were liable to bring attention, and worse, perhaps documentation. He did not want his family notified of his certain underhanded dealings, regardless of the danger. He pulled a death stick out of his pocket, and sparked it as he spoke," I'd like to get offworld," he said, looking back over at his ship, beautiful as she was," And I need to find someone who can update this thing with modern weaponry." 

 

Elliot thought for a moment, his mind flashing back to Bracca, and his experiences under the strict corporates that ran the planet. He wasn't looking to get harassed and bullied like that as soon as he stepped offworld into an even bigger pond, now. The woman he was with, however, seemed more well-armed than he, and fairly experienced, he'd hoped. At least the scar on her cheek lent to the idea, he thought. Elliot smacked his lips in frustration for a moment, crossing his arms as well," You're a freelancer, then? I could use an escort from a more well-armed ship."

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"If you want identification, I can do that. Hack into the local database, add a name, then whenever someone tries to check your ID they'll see it's valid and registered here on Coruscant. A planet like this, the chances of any local authorities noticing an extra name is pretty small, and even if they do, they'll write it off as one of the other thousand bureaucrats clearing the ID."

 

She motioned at her ship, chuckling at his next offer.

 

"No guns here. She's quiet, and discreet, but if a fight breaks out I hit the gas and run. I know a guy who may be able to help though. His name's Jude, he's a shock trooper for the Sovereign Alliance. We used to run together, take out bad guys the rebels couldn't touch. Smugglers, mob bosses, slavers. We were really good at it, too. But that was years ago by now. Not to worry- he's good people, and he still owes me."

 

She pulled out her communicator, staring at it for a small moment before sending a message to @Larvee.

 

Hey Jude, been a while. I have a job for you on Coruscant if you're interested- Maybe get the old system going again, killing bad guys and saving civvies. Let me know if you want in.

 

"I'll even throw in an offer- Like I said, I'm no good with hardware. Give me a datapad or a keypad and I can hack into just about anything, but if my ship takes a hit or I need to do something mechanical, I'm no good. I could use an engineer. Work for me for a little bit, and I'll get you hooked up with everything you need to be a freelancer. Guns, training, contacts. Credits."

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Jude was stirred by the navigators soft pings, he sat up straight as the McFerrin dropped from Hyperspace. Taking a moment to drink in the sight of Coruscant, the giant cityscape visible from orbit, and the scar still left in its crust. With a gentle hum, Jude began plugging away at the console, transmitting ID codes, making contact with Tower, and preparing for the ride in.

 

He turned back to the cabin where his client slept. The privacy curtain was closed, but could hardly muffle the man's snores. "Hey, Jaque! We're coming down now, should make surface in less than Five!" There was a stir from behind the curtain, Jude turned his attention back to his flightpath. A few moments later, a slightly short human stepped up behind the helm. "Well? Were we-." "Nobody's behind us, or waiting at the port for us. Try to enjoy the ride, we'll be on solid ground again before you know it." Jude interrupted. Jaque had been stressed for the whole flight. To Jude it seemed irrational, that for some reason his co-researchers would send an assassin, or bounty hunter to steal his work before he could present it. He shrugged, thinking to himself that he maybe just doesn't know this persons working environment. Jude chuckled gently, the thought of some sort of Scientific Thunderdome sounded funny to him.

 

Jaque jumped as Jude brought the McFarrin down onto the landing pad a little less than softly. He laughed "Don't Worry, Be Happy!" Jude smiled wide, standing from his seat and gesturing to the airlock. "C'mon, I'll see you to your shuttle and make sure you're off safely, alright?" Jaque frowned, mildly annoyed at the Devaronian. "You're not helping." The man turned to the airlock, the ramp had already come down for them to step off to the pad. The shuttle wasn't far from the port that was burried under the city that sprawled infinately in every direction. The sky was thick with traffic and noise. Jude couldn't help but lose himself in the sights, a feint feeling of pride washing over him as he stared into the increadable progress that this planet has experienced.

 

Jaque waved gently as his shuttle departed, which Jude repaid. He'd stand and watch the shuttle disappear into the distance before turning back towards his landing bay. He had the day to spend, and intended to stop for something to eat before leaving again. On his walk he checked his communicator, not having realized he missed a message. His face lit up as he listened, and he smiled wide. He wasted no time responding to Azael, reminiscing about the friendship they'd shared.

 

Hey!! I'd absolutely Love to come mess up some bad dudes! And by chance I just happen to already be on Coruscant for business! Shoot me your local and I'll be there ASAP.

 

With excitement in his breath and a skip in his step, Jude made his way back to his pad, eager to hear back from his comrade.

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Guns.

 

Elliot could use some guns. He'd not spent much time with a blaster, nor had he much experience dog-fighting in his starship. Both of which were going to surely prove integral.

 

Training.

 

His mind flashed, and he was back in Bracca.

 

The taste of blood had just touched his lips, his arms were up to cover his jaw, but the Sullustan kept lining up shots to his body and side of the head. Elliot lifted his left leg and kicked the man from off him, affording himself a few extra feet to work with. Elliot was younger then, but still held a significant advantage in height. He sprung forward, throwing across his body, down through the chin of the sullustan bully that he'd gotten far too used to being harassed by. Bloody nose and bloody teeth, Elliot closed the distance, cornering his enemy with a left hand swung down under the guard to the liver. He swarmed, dropping his shoulders and leaning a front elbow into the temple of the man. With a groan, the sullustan knelt and punched below the belt, sending Elliot to his knees. He winced, and inhaled sharply before feeling another punch, this time on his jaw. He was flung to the ground, then, and barely was able to scramble to any semblance of balance before he was run after. 

 

His trip home on the tram from the scrapyard had ended in violence once again, and his head slammed into a seat on the tram as he was tackled down. With the pang in his ears and an inscrutable sting below the belt, Elliot barely thought out his reactions, simply slinging his body off to the side and rolling over his shoulder to avoid being hit. Bumping into a few more people, he was lifted and shoved by the others on the tram, annoyed by such pedestrian violence. He regained his footing, leaning over the back railing of a seat. The sullustan slowly approached, hands up in guard. Elliot exhaled and took one step forward, shuffling to keep his footwork proper. He ducked his left shoulder down across his opponent, lowering his head just under a fully wound swing from his opponent. Still weakened, he pushed his head into the chest of the sullustan and shoulder the man into the seat behind him. With a weak fall, he fell to a seated position, and Elliot was there to capitalize. An elbow across, his whole body finding a way to crash into him, and followed by a long swinging knee to the gut, finished the fight quickly. Elliot fell back, further still onto his butt, exhausted and in no small amount of pain. 

 

Contacts, Credits.

 

He snapped out of it. He could use all of those things. Anyone could. 

 

"I'll fly with you for a little while. I'm no datapad engineer, but I know ships."

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  • 2 weeks later...

"Sounds like a deal then. it's gonna take me a few hours to cook up passable identification, but while you wait, I can tell you what we're gonna be doing. If you have any questions, feel free to ask."

 

She heard a quiet beep from her communicator, and was relieved to see that Jude had responded already. He was already on world, surprisingly, and willing to meet up. She quickly sent him her coordinates before moving on. They would have time to catch up on their travels. Pocketing the communicator, she motioned for Elliot to follow her aboard her ship. As they walked, she spoke.

 

"I work as a mercenary of sorts- really more of a bounty hunter on a wider scale. The Sovereign Knights offer top credit for anyone willing to help them finish rooting out the influences of the Sith, whether it be pirates and criminals that festered under their watch, or remnant cultists themselves. I heard they found actual Sith at Falleen too."

 

She took a seat at her desk, pulling up a number of documents as she began to work.

 

"It's good money, and it's work that lets us sleep at night. You'll earn equal parts as the rest of the crew, and I'll teach you everything you need to know about this life if you stick around long enough."

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  • 3 weeks later...

The room felt hollowed out, at least to how Beck remembered it. The audience chamber of the old Imperial Palace used to be able to hold over six hundred dignitaries from all over the galaxy. Now, it was lucky if the room was filled with even fifty bodies. It had been the main hub during the Imperial era of control, and was abandoned when the Republic took over. However, since the destruction of the planet, the senate building had become unusable, while the Palace took minimal damage. How it held up as well as it did almost surprised Beck. Although his own memory of the Palace was only a fleeting one at best. His time on Coruscant was limited, and his time at the Palace was even less.

 

The noise from the speakers in the audience chamber echoed out off the walls, as the noise amplification and reduction equipment was never installed after that section of the room caved in. As he looked around, a few windows let in what little sunlight was out and about today, showing off the pillars of offices that lead up to the Palace. Many of those had been rebuilt first before anything else. The thought made him roll his eyes slightly, as he had never been one to lavish upon himself or anyone else. It was a mentality that was driven out of him through his training. If he was lucky enough, he would slowly change the mentality around here about such lavishness. 

 

He was almost bored sitting within the throne of the audience chamber, ears perking up every so often upon hearing words or phrases from senators that he knew he would be rejecting their proposals. More so of the fact that none of them fully understood what was about to transpire in the transition of a new government. He knew such a lack of understanding was present mainly due to buzz words like ‘diplomatic’, ‘imperial flare’, and ‘new republic’. It made him wonder why no one else bothered to fully change it before. 

 

It was then that some senator or representative from some shipyard world was proposing legislation on ship usage, tossing out some fairly uncontrolled words. “... The reform only promises at most new imperial flare at best. As it is, the last regime was more focused on using imperialized ships as the helmed frontline, and truly didn’t bother to enforce any signs of cohesion between the two factions. I am still very hesitant that this new reformed ideology of government has the ability to maintain any sense of protection to those it now has to look out for. It is why I believe heavily that this bill would help create what has been lacking in years past." Beck turned and gave a quick glance at Tylsar, who in return only gave a look that hinted that she didn't even know the best strategy to use. The common response to the words within the room were almost a flat out agreement. It became clear that the mindset of what was actually happening was something that needed to be addressed. 

 

Standing up and moving towards the main podium speaker, he made sure to straighten himself upright to show the strength he held. Upon reaching the podium, he stood and looked over the entire room, glancing over many faces and repeated the same movement until the entire room fell quiet and had eyes locked upon him. He was not dressed like any other typical Emperor, not did he hold too much decorum upon his uniform that would even hint at him holding a high Imperial loyalist stance, even though deep down he did. He understood all too well what was needed of him and what the galaxy needed. Such desires were something to daydream about when he had the time. Once the room was fully locked on him and silenced, he projected his voice, even though the microphones at the podium would have easily amplified his voice regardless. 

 

“The reform that has been stirred within your minds and hearts is not something we shall worry about. This new Sovereignty is not the Empire. Nor is it the Republic. We are a new entity all together. We stand on the brink of a galaxy that needs something new. The old ways do not work, at least not for long. What is expected is for these legislations and bills to be handled at a much smaller scale. Upon the consortiums forming, each one would hold its own resources of taxation, rules and fleets. The only galaxy wide affairs and governing processes would be handled by those who need to be apart of them. As in each leader of the consortiums. So allow for me to end this session today by saying, no bills are being passed at this time. No movement is happening on this floor. We will gather tonight for a less formal dinner gala. But in the meantime, if anyone does have extra time or wants to fully put their credits where their mouth is, we have many projects to actually get this planet and a few others back up and running the way they should be. Stop by my office when you have the time...."

 

Beck looked around the room again, making sure that his words were clearly noted by everyone as final. To maintain the final note, with his voice still projected loudly, he spoke and then turned. "All Hail the Sovereignty." As he turned to leave the room, Tyslar lead the room in a recourse of what was now becoming the slogan of the Sovereign Alliance. "LONG LIVE THE EMPEROR!"

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“Making touchdown in 10…9…8…” 

 

As the GR-75 began to touch down on the limited area of stable ground, Warhunter Qessax remained still. Even as the winds from the ship’s engines blew all the dust nearby away, Qessax remained stoic. He smirked under his mask slightly as the other Kaleesh nearby braced themselves from the dust going into their eyes. True, Qessax would love to do the same, but he knew he had to keep up an image for his men in order to keep their respect. 

 

“...and we have landed. Everything looks stable.” The comm at the Warhunter’s side continued.

 

“Agreed. Start the unloading process for the security equipment and supplies first. And get those hunters out as well. I want the ship more secure than a Mumuu pitt”

 

The acknowledgement from the pilot made Qessax feel slightly better about the situation. The one non-Kaleesh on the ship was an ex-imperial officer, and one who understood the importance of procedure. Many Kaleesh back home were still coming to grips with how things needed to run. In their lifetime, they had seen their planet become more and more industrialized every day, and those who weren’t adjusting well needing a guiding hand occasionally. Qessax was fortunate enough to find his old colleague to help out on this mission. Despite not being an imperial any longer, Qessax was determined to carry out this mission like a seasoned spymaster. 

 

The transport ship began to open up. Numerous droids and Kaleesh workers exited and began to unload the cargo. However, one figure broke away from the croud. A hunched over woman, dressed in animal furs, bone necklaces and a very elaborate mask, was hobbling with her walking stick directly towards Qessax.

 

Qessax smiled and rushed forward, kneeling before the shaman woman. 

 

“It is a great reassurance to have the spirits with us, wise one”

 

The woman made a chuckle under her mask and flicked the backside of Qessax’s exposed ears, a sign of love from an elder. 

 

“Like you really mean that little one. Come on, give auntie a proper greeting, i’ve had enough of people groveling for my approval”

 

Qessax laughed as he stood. Nephew and aunt braced for a few moments, sharing a moment of warmth between the two.

 

“It’s been a long time my little Tokin Crab” Auntie chuckled as she looked up at Qessax. She reached out and began to feel the skins decorating the Warhunter’s sides. “I smell approval from your father. It’s well earned”

 

Qessax almost blushed under his mask. Despite being an adult, the fact that his aunt still called him  that childhood nickname always had the effect. The benefits of family he supposed.

 

“If you say so auntie.”

 

“I do say so! After all, I speak with the weight of our ancestors!” the elder Shaman laughed as she began to hobble away from the shuttle. 

 

“ What are you doing here? I wasn’t told there would be any advisors coming to this mission.” 

 

“Technically i’m not here. Your father still thinks I’m near the Jaruda's lands, trying to convince the tribes their to send their males to the capital. But I knew my words wouldn’t change their minds yet. They’re still sore from losing their leader. So I’m giving them time to mourn before I go back.”

 

Auntie stopped, panting slightly from her movements. Qessax quickly took off his cape and laid it on the ground before helping  the elder to a sitting position, facing the waters before the two. Afterwards, Qessax sat cross-legged next to her on the moist ground. 

 

“But if your father asks, I was with your mother, alright? Your ancestors will understand.” She commented with a wink from under her mask.

 

Qessax laughed again.  Despite all the time away from the old woman, he still couldn’t believe she was the way she was. His mind flashed back to his youngling days, when auntie was instructing Qessax on the stories of his ancestors and deities and all of their mythical feats. Next to his own father and Kolchak, auntie was probably the most influential person in his life. 

 

Auntie reached into a pouch at her side and produced a few hard shelled bugs. While popping them into her mouth one by one, crunching each one between her teeth, he gestured towards the large body of water before her.

 

“Little Tokin Crab, what is that?” 

 

“The Great Western Sea auntie.”

 

Auntie wrinkled her nose as she popped another bug. “Doesn’t look that great to me…”

 

Qessax had to agree. The once mighty and massive reservoir had become greatly damaged by the fall of Hesperium. During the crash that shook the planet, most of the infrastructure became damaged and at risk. The battle with the Mandalorians only escalated the damage, for one large battle cruiser had plummeted through the atmosphere into the Ocean. The tidal waves created by the ship flooded entire districts of coruscant. And the radioactive waste from the ship was still active in the waters, killing all the aquatic life inside. 

 

Still, in Qessax’s mind, he also saw something else. He could almost see the Jenuwa sea back home. 

 

“No, auntie, it isn’t that great anymore. But it will be again Auntie. But it will be. Once we’ve secured an area, we will begin building temporary factories to begin fixing the structures nearby, so the nearby communities won’t get flooded anymore. Then we can get to work on some of the housing and get the communities better adjusting to fixing the planet themselves.  After that, we will assist the alliance with purifying the waters again, and then the… ”

 

“Yes yes, you and the Alliance are going to fix the land and all that, good for you…” Auntie interrupted, waving her hand. “I’m sure this will make Kalee look more favorable for the galaxy or whatever. But tell me little Tokin, what about the dead?”

 

Qessax paused and looked at the elderly shaman. “The people here have different beliefs than us. You know that”

 

“So? Doesn’t mean that their ancestors are resting easy. If Kalee was wiped out, do you think the dead would rest?”

 

“Well no but…”

 

"But what?”

 

 Qessax shrugged. “If it was Kalee, the survivors would declare an unending war against the madmen who did it. These people are… Krrthalk” Qessax said in pure Kaleesh, unable to find a word that meant both non-native Kaleesh and unfaithful. 

 

“They do not have rights for their dead. Their ancestors are not our concern.”

 

Auntie tsk tsked several times at this line of thought. “Your ancestors are back home on Kalee little Tokin Crab. It might be good to make the ancestors here happy with you here.

Qessax sighed at his aunt's words.  Before he could answer however, a new voice interrupted the conversation. 

 

“Sir?”

 

Qessax and Auntie turned to a Kaleesh hunter, no older than a boy.

 

“What is it?”

 

“I’ve been told we are being hailed by the Alliance. They want to speak with you directly.”

 

Qessax nodded and stood up. Auntie stood up as well and handed the cloak back to the Warhunter. 

 

“Go ahead without me little Tokin. I’m going to stay here for a little while. “

 

Qessax nodded, hugged the woman one more time and turned back towards his command base. Once inside on of the tents he gestured to his personal astromech droid. Secretary, always ready, beeped a few times and began the holo transmission before the Warhunter.  Technically, this was one of the first times Qessax addressed anyone from the Alliance as just a representative of Kalee and not an Imperial soldier.  

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  • 3 weeks later...

A lone freighter exited hyperspace and in good timing as one of its engines failed with a small burst of momentum. Lok cursed beneath his breath as he opened a transponder comm to the Sovereign Forces and identified himself, complete with his Imperial Authorization Code and Empirical Identification Number.

 

"Imperial Knight Authorization Delta 8-6-7 Alpha 5-3-0-9.....

 

Empirical Identification Number Zeta Omega 2-5-1-0

 

Identity verified: Lok Skyshatter... Sovereign Knight.... Missing in Action after Cloning at Nar Shadaa under Empirical Protocol Revanchist...

 

As the transponder briefed the Sovereignty upon his spontaneous arrival, Lok gazed upon Coruscant from the freighters viewport, Hesperium still lingering upon the cuspise of Coruscant's upper atmosphere and the remnants of where the two collided dotting its orbit. 

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The Star Destroyer Reverence emerged from hyperspace over the once capital world of the erstwhile Galactic Alliance. Savaged by the Sith in an act of violence that had left the entire galaxy stunned. The already weak republican government, then deprived of the few remaining strong leaders swiftly collapsed and surrendered. The world itself still bore the scars of the decade ago act of cruelty, but the population was slowly filtering back. Still nothing like before and large swathes of the world remained eternally dark and unlit. The only remaining population the sewer rats and gangs of anarchists. 

 

Nothing like home. 

 

The cityscape turned a stomach long accustomed to the wide valleys and clear blue mountains of Chandrila. But there was duty to be done and Raphanel would answer as his family always did. 

 

He stepped off the transport craft and made his way to where the Sovereign was awaiting him and the rest of the called upon Knights.  

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Lord Commander Raphenel Karlovci Contispex- Imperial Warden

 

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Beck slowly walked the floor, a great sea of people moved and interacted with each other. Everyone seemed to be more on the hesitant side in regarding him, either through sheer fact that they understood what he would do to their precious systems that they all profted from, or perhaps that they feared what would happen to them if they did approach him. There were a few guards nearby, a much smaller security detail within the halls of the once great palace than what was outside. Yet he did not fear any death or ill fate within these halls. Maybe ill will and ill intent. But he could always handle that. 

 

Tylsar stood nearby, engaging those that she could and making ever so small subtle gestures to the Emperor as to whom he should attempt to connect with and those that he should avoid. Overall, he was slightly bored by the entire experience. He knew he would have to endure such things taking on the role. He always made fun of others within the military and navy ranks that rose to such positions as this one. Now he pitied them. It wasn't something that he would want at all for his worst enemies, as it was a completely different beast than the world he was used to. But he found comfort in knowing that he held a will to endure it, and a mind that was always learning and absorbing new information. He would be successful in this role the same way he was in every other assignment handed to him. With strong precision and an iron will.  

 

He went to grab a drink when he spotted an advisor approach him rather quickly. A quick bow, he stuttered out information quickly. "My lord, many of the Imper-Sovereign Knights and military leaders are arriving. Should I have them meet you in your office?" Beck turned with almost a scowl of disappointment. He glanced around the room before returning his full attention back. "No. Have them meet me here. This whole thing is for the entire Sovereignty, not just the policial ones." A quick bow and the advisor turned to leave to let the others know that the Emperor would see them in the grand hall of the old Imperial Palace. As the advisor left ear shot, Beck spoke out loud to himself. "And it would be most amusing to me to see everyone's else faces upon their party getting interrupted." 

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On his decent, Lok's mind moved toward the last time he stood on Coruscant. It was a different time, a different Galaxy. It was was right he walked away from the Jedi Order and before he was the man he was today. This was where he met Alekseyev, where he first set upon his journey with Kyrie. It was her introduction that would forge him as an Imperial Knight. And it was broken before it very eyes.

 

The anger within wanted to boil and his plight upon the Sith felt only more determined. He sighed outward, letting his breath flow for a single six count before inhaling for four. As his demeanor calmed and the surrealism set as reality, he turned his heading as the Command Tower determined his destination. The Imperial Palace. To meet with the Emperor. A man who was not Lady Raven. 

 

He looked back at his life, son of a beast rider, a student of Ossus, a renegade Jedi, and now Imperial Knight... or was. Now that he thought about it, his life was anything but the stability that he thought it was. And the possibility of Raven's passing was always out there, a customary tradition that had been set as a trend for the last hundred or more years. In truth, without the technology that was readily available to him, he wouldn't stand here at all. And whether or not it was a blessing or a curse, or right or wrong, wasn't a subject of debate. You lived as many lives as you possibly could in order to stabilize and defend the Galaxy until you won or wore out your DNA sequences.

 

And this was the weakness he saw in Jedi, especially one's who gave themselves entirely to the Force. It was cowardice, it was giving up. Whether they became one with the Force, or walking away from the Galaxy, it was letting the Darkside further rein by not standing their post, and taking from those they left behind. It was selfishness. With a rocketed landing, Lok clunkered the old freighter down and turned off the remaining engine. It was time to meet this man who would be King.

 

Lok was fresh from the pod, hair clean, high and tight, with a drapping locket of hair twisted up at the center and braided down. His crimson armor glistened anew, and his Saber and shoto were clipped upon his right hip with the Imperial Cloak adorning his attire. Not since his rising to Knighthood, had he been so pristine. Guided into the Grand Hall from the ship, updated on what was transpiring as he walked.

 

When he arrived, he stood at the entrance a forced smirk upon his face, an instantaneous surprise by the number of Imperial subjects present at the galla. Coruscant laid most in shambles, and here it was business as usual.

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Inside the Grand Hall, the little astromech beeped a few more times at the technician working. 

 

“I know, I know! Just stop activating your…”

 

The astromech beeped again and shook violently. 

 

“I literally just said to stop…”

 

A bolt came loose. The holoprojector activated, sending the technician backwards onto his rear. Before him, the life-sized holographic image of the Kaleesh Warhunter came to life, looking down at him. 

 

“I was expecting someone of higher rank” Qessax glared from behind his mask at the technician. 

 

“Uh, sorry sir!” The technician stammered as he got into a salute for his former spymaster. “Our astromech was suffering difficulties. We thought it would be more time before you would broadcast”

 

Qessax waved the excuse away, still glaring slightly. “It seems my leaving the Alliance had more of an effect than I initially thought.”

 

 “No sir! Um, I mean yes sir, but um…” the technician stammered on a bit more. Under Qessax’s gaze, he recomposed himself. “Sir, the Emperor will be here shortly as well as the Sovereign Knights. We contacted you because as previous spymaster and representative of Kalee, you have insights and opinions people value”

 

Qessax sighed. The little blurb the technician gave was clearly rehearsed. The one thing to fall back on in his moment of unpreparedness. 

 

“I understand. Dismissed”

 

As the technician scampered away, Qessax looked around. Using holo transmitters was always a novel experience in his opinion. While most of his species viewed the technology with an eye of suspicion, Qessax himself enjoyed it. The droid could only reveal what it chose to reveal, and the parameters couldn’t be easily altered subtly mid-call. As a previous spymaster, Qessax had many trainings finding loopholes in such transmissions to get the maximum amount of data possible. 

 

Still, Qessax couldn’t help but adjust his cape, showing the few Imperial badges he kept on his shoulder. He was an outsider here, but he wasn’t going to let anyone forget that he, and all of Kalee, were part of the Alliance. And if the newly appointed Emperor took notice of the Warhunter, all the better. Still, he hoped he could hurry this along if possible. Every second not overseeing the Great Western Sea reconstruction made him nervous. 
 

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A Gala. Some imperial tendencies never died, no matter how many times the royal households were laid to ruin in a galactic war. Here in the heart of the core worlds, diplomacy, angling, and all the other fine arts of advancing a household up the imperial ladder continued unabated. Much as it had under the short reign of the Sith Lords and much as it would in whatever damned future the galaxy would throw at the fledgling government. Raphanel took a deep steadying breath and threw his cape over his shoulder before walking towards the head of the table. There would be time to socialise with the others later, for there was someone much more important to talk to.  

 

He swept by the dancing and talking to where the emperor sat. Raphanel bowed deeply as was fitting of someone of such rank.

 

“My Lord, I hear that you have need of the Knights?”

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Lord Commander Raphenel Karlovci Contispex- Imperial Warden

 

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Beck turned with a hard look, allowing for his face to show how much he was quickly judging and summing up the Sovereign Knight before him. He was grateful to some extent over the appearance of the Knight, as it meant he now had an excuse to forfeit such a ridiculous gala event. Three times now in the past year he had to attend one. He'd rather die than attend another. But he already knew his fate upon accepting the role he currently occupied. Taking his eyes off of the Knight, he could see others in uniform starting to enter to room. It was enough to begin to have the senators stir uncomfortably within their own party. A small grin came to his face as he turned back to the Knight. 

 

"Yes indeed. We are in the middle of establishing new orders and systems of things. As consortiums are being formed, I doubt many would have the ability to establish rules and maintain law. I have a need for the noble Sovereign Knights to maintain this gap, especially in areas where there was a strong Sith presence before hand." 

 

He turned his head to glance at a few of the dignitaries and other officials of state throw glances his way as he talked to the Knight before him. Letting his grin become even more apparent, he turned back to focus. 

 

"And I would like it for the Sovereign Alliance to get use to seeing the Knights out and about, taking on a more active role within this new formation of governing style."

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As the ship entered the system, Talyn pondered just what role he might play in the new government. For he had used the time in hyperspace to catch up somewhat on current events and to clean himself up from the blood he had previously been caked in. From what he could gather the Sovereignty was now governed by an Emperor, which to him did not bode well. For he remembered the lessons of old, last time the galaxy had an emperor the galaxy had paid a heavy of and suffered in darkness for decades.

 

Would this new emperor be the same? He did wonder. 

 

As he took a shuttle to the surface and sent his authorisation code, he also wondered who would he report too. For he had also found out his previous boss Qessax had since been replaced. He didn't know the reasons, and he didn't particularly care, only that whoever replaced him knew what they were doing.  As the shuttle landed, after restocking his ammo and equipment, and debriefing, he was approached by a important looking official who informed him that his presence was required by the new emperor.

 

Which was most unexpected. He had not expected to meet the new emperor so soon, although it did provide an opportunity to get to know him and see if he was different to the last. To see what made him any different to those before him in power.

 

Walking with a quick pace, his guns upon his back and slung across his side, Tayln made his way to the palace. He could still see old signs of the wars that ruined the planet and brought the moon crashing upon it. Just as he could see countless refugees, victims of the Sith with nowhere else to turn. 

 

As he entered the main hall,he noted the gala in progress but paid it no mind. He cared little for the plays of power those here orchestrated. He was above such frivolous behaviour. He was a soldier and not a bureaucrat. As he approached closer, he noted a Imperial Knight. He hadn't met one before but knew them by reputation. They were more willing to remove the Sith by any means, more so than the Jedi at least which afforded them some respect.

 

He waited his turn to speak to the emperor, as he removed the helmet that had previously concealed his features. Looking upon the emperor, he looked younger than he thought he would be. In many ways they appeared similar in appearance. He took a sit as he waited, placing the helmet under the chair until he would rise.

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Galas as always were a colourful affair. Growing up in such a house as Contispex had seen him at hundreds of such events and after his joining to the Knights, he was glad that he did not take a hosting role in one. THought perhaps the Emperor intended to change that. 

 

“We will of course serve as you so desire my Emperor.” He brought his right arm up across his chest in a diminutive salute. “We will be your hand as we were Raven’s. Where can you best use us?” 

 

There were of course rumours abounding across the galaxy of some remnant Sith that peeked from the shadows. Mostly false of course, but his inquisitors were investigating every substantial one.

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Lord Commander Raphenel Karlovci Contispex- Imperial Warden

 

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Inside Star Destroyer above Coruscant that Agent Orin left: 

 

>Please just let me attach an arm on…< Fera buzzed again for the 8th time. 

 

Ruin, standing inside the workshop, tossed aside the piece of machinery designed for some Darktrooper chassis like it was a piece of junk. The technician standing by flinched at the noise of the metal clashing against the ground. 

 

“I’m sorry, um, droid?” the technician stammered as he went to pick up the fallen arm. “Our options for a droid of your calibur are somewhat… limited. With your chassis designs kept private on Mechis III, we don’t have the clearance to fetch them at the moment.”  

 

“Bullets and casings. Shells and mortars.” Ruin commented as he walked around the workshop, stopping to pick up random pieces of metal and comparing them to his shoulder. 

The technician looked at Fera confused. 

 

>Too small< Fera explained from her tabletop. 

 

The technician flinched again as another piece of metal was tossed aside. 

 

“Well..uh, i think we have an old model of a B2 somewhere in storage on the planet. I might be able to get it brought up…”

 

Fera shook her body. 

 

>Negative. Such hands lack digits for fine motor manipulation.<

 

The technician sighed. “That limits our options extremely then. Honestly your best bet for a perfect  is to get a flight to Mechis for a replacement. But until then, he will have to make do with either this modified dark trooper hand, or go without a…”

 

“Blood and guts!” Ruin exclaimed from the other end of the workshop. The two turned and looked at the Terror droid. He was standing and pointing at a glass container mounted on the wall. Inside the large container sat the remains of something old. 

 

“That? Ya, that’s mine…” The technician exclaimed as he rushed over. “I’m a bit of a collector, and the commander finally let me put this on display. If i get enough of the right parts i might get it to work again, but honestly I doubt that'll happen. 

 

Ruin stared at the thing inside. The Warden 10-24 sat inside motionless, not a spark of life in it. Despite its advanced age, the remains of the body were well taken care of. It was missing a lower half body as well as part of its head and one of its eyes, but the red shine its outer plates had helped explain the reason why the droid model was nicknamed “RedTerror” 

 

Without warning, Ruin smashed the glass with his good hand and grabbed the dead chassis arm. With a yank and a tug, Ruin ripped the droid’s arm out of its socket and dragged it to the nearest workbench.

 

“B…b...but that’s…” The technician stammered. 

 

Fera crawled over to a computer console and began to type something in. >I am uploading several codes. Take these to Mechis III and the droids there will give you everything you need to repair your Warden 10-24 completely, as well as some credits for your troubles<

 

With that taken care of, Fera crawled back over to Ruin, who had sat down with his shoulder against the table where the arm lay. 

 

“Rip and tear. Blast and smash…” Ruin commented.

 

>Indeed. Please stay still while I operate. < 

 

Fera stopped and buzzed at the technician. >I also need a battery pack from one of your laser rifles. Just the power pack will do.< 

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For the first few moments, Lok simply strolled the Gala as he summed up the atmosphere. There was unease amongst the party goers at seeing the arrival of the Knights, some of which he knew, and others he only he knew by reputation. This Emperor, however, was not one of the Imperialist he knew even vaguely and he waited to make his own approach until @Raphanelhad.

 

Catching the tail end of their conversation, hearing the last remnants of it as he gave a formal bow, nodding casually at Raphanel afterwards. Raphanel was a being he had seen mostly in passing, but never personally met. Similar to Emperor @Beck Pilon, albeit he knew more the name than the actual person. And not one he expected to take up Raven's mantle. In truth, Raven's mantle was a heavy burden he didn't expect many, if any, to carry. Let alone a former subordinate. In truth, it just didn't sit right with Lok, and his eyes likely spoke of this.

 

"It's our duty to safeguard the Empire..." Lok spoke, quickly realizing his misspoke, and coughed to correct himself. "Forgive me, the Sovereignty." After offering his apologies with a bow of his head, Lok continued his original point. "That will never be in question. Our loyalties lay in that unbroken promise with little doubt, if any. Those were Lady Raven's wishes, and we shall carry them out until our last breaths."

 

"You must forgive me however." Lok's eyes narrowed and his brow furrowed as the tension in his face became apparent and his following question grew visible even before he spoke it aloud. "We are not political pieces to be paraded around. We take our duties seriously. What is your real reasoning for calling us here before the Great Houses?"

 

Lok's words could have been taken as insult, but that was not his intent. He was Onderonian, a son of the Beast Riders, and warrior of the now labeled Sovereign. Politics were not his forta and as with his time in Jedi, this moment felt very political. Given his forthwith nature, he spoke openly about what he felt and saw around him. Raven knew this and respected it. Now he pondered on how Emperor Pilon would accept his openness. Had Politics became his life? Or was he still a soldier at heart.

 

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************************************************

 

While the Droid remained above, Æquitas took the time to distance himself and took the shuttle down with Agent @Talyn Orin. He needed time to think, to recenter himself after Korriban and ponder on the words that were spoken to him by the spirit of the Jedi he felt. All that war, it had taken its toll on the young Jedi Knight and it showed visually. 

 

War... it was never a Jedi's path. Or at least shouldn't have been. His Master had taught him this until their departure. And even as he departed the shuttle, he couldn't help but wish his council and even looked for him as he stepped upon the streets of what remained of Coruscant. Even the scar of Coruscant that led to this bloodied war echoed in his connection to the planet and he felt more of the weight that burdened him press down upon his tired form. He had tried to rest on their way back, but the screams of war had echoed in his mind.

 

Gazing out across Coruscant, he let himself go upon the Force that swirled and lashed outwardly across its broken surface. And yet, despite this, life was beginning to return, and with it, the light. After Korriban, it felt rejuvenating to feel the lightside of the Force in nearly full strength and the memories Mjan shared flowed alongside him. A member of the Sith species, he had always fought his darker nature. And it's weight was akin to what still pressed upon Æquitas' own soul. So how did he find his fight? What made him, a Jedi, use the darkness of his species in the service of the Light? How was he able to overcome?

 

How was Æquitas meant to find his own will to fight? Defending was second nature to a Jedi. But the Jedi Order now served a more aggressive nature, one on the offensive. And for Æquitas, it felt overwhelming. Opening his eyes, he brought his lightsaber up and activated it, feeling the kyber within harmonizing with his own presence as the emerald hue pulsated a calming hum. Questioning the crystal, he wondered. "How are we supposed to adapt and overcome the years we have been the same, harmonic and peaceful? Or should we even try?"

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  • 2 weeks later...

Beck felt almost certain that he understood the sheer confusion that rippled throughout the entire room. Politicians and officials confused by him hosting meetings within their once sacred halls of parties and power moves, now to only be upstaged by the Emperor dissolving the atmosphere through sheer will power of letting the not typical type remain openly within the halls. The Sovereign Knights were not used to being summoned in a show. It was a mix of breaking both standards with a quick stroke. It was needed and something he intended to quickly. The whole thing was bound to piss people off. He didn't much care for feelings of others at the moment. 

 

Turning to look at some of the others now slowly coming to form a line to see him, he knew he had the attention of many. He turned for a moment to look at Lok, the other Knight present. His words seemed to hint that he was unhappy with him using them in part as a show to break the old broken system. So he returned to the first Knight who approached first. "Onderon is in need of some strong presence. The former home of the Sith still has plenty of struggles. I want for them to be fully swayed back into the fold. Help the Sovereignty by showing up and providing assistance to officials already on site. It's too critical of a system to remain in tarry state." Now turning back to Lok, he narrowed his eyes. "And with it, your very presence is being used as a blunt force to change what doesn't belong. Raven held ideas and established many good things. But I am not Raven. If you wish to discuss your personal preferences, feel free to arrange a time with me after you successfully complete this assignment."

 

Beck lifted his hand to wave them away and with the same motion waved up the other agent who arrived to see him. 

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The Akalay Light Freighter departed from a Star Destroyer that loomed over the planet. It's dark, steel gray coloring almost matched that of the standard Imperial equipment if not for the darker shading and the secondary orange and red accents. The Mantis was a battle ready vessel used by an aerial assault unit otherwise known as, "Bad Company," As they called themselves. A high risk three man team that dealt in sabotage and espionage behind enemy lines, hijacking and hacking of Intel, equipment, and vehicles, and most important jumping from high altitudes on unsuspecting enemies. While they could fit into any role, so far the unit had been involved in infiltration, hijacking, and assault, something they were very much used to. 

 

The Mantis approached the planet and was asked to give a clearance code which the pilot did, and from there the freighter was guided to a landing dock near a palace that seemed lively with activity. Once landed the trio of soldiers, Grand Republic Clones, had restocked munitions and supplies for any long trip and dire situation. The lead of this particular unit was one CT-0207, otherwise known by rank as Captain and by name, "Tilt," Who specialized in CQC, CQB, and anything almost assault related. Captain Thumper, or, "Second Captain," CT-1567 was one who utilized cyber warfare, reconnaissance, small scale explosives, and was an expert marksman to be the teams sniper. CT-0985, Sergeant Riggs, was the weapons expert and repairs, small to large scale demolitions, and artillery. They covered each others weaknesses and strengths, had each others backs since the day they were recruited into the company. 

 

The trio were approached by an important looking fellow, beckoning them to follow as ordered. From what the officer has stated they were to meet the new Emperor, there was info on the next objective after the Liberation of Falleen so it was to be expected that there were a variety of missions, always were. And the boys were always up for it. Following the officer did they walk through the damaged hall of the palace, guns holstered yet they remained ever stoic and alert just in case. Once in their designated area there appeared to be a gala going about, festivities of the elite weren't necessarily what the Clones were used to nor did they like it. Getting overtly drunk and starting fights? That was better. 

 

Once the trio arrived to their spot they could see the new Emperor speak aloud. The room was silent as he spoke about Onderon, the Sith world as far as they knew, but this wasn't the briefing but an announcement of the next siege... Tilt thought. It was clear that their next goal could surround Onderon, but he wouldn't know until the briefing itself. 

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As Pilon's hand waved them off, Lok simply placed his arm across his chest and gave a sweeping bow before turning to depart. So politics it would be, a notion that didn't sit well with the Knight, as it was politics that inevitably caved every Empire that had rose to power. Still, he would give this Emperor the chance to prove him wrong, albeit with lackluster and faithlessness. It was one thing to hope, but another to blindly place faith in another. Something that he and Raven always held in common and served as a foundation for their mutual respect.

 

As he made his gaze toward the door he entered, however, he could sense the presence of eyes upon him which drove the Knight to linger a moment in his step as he gazed about the room. It wasn't unusual for gazes to be upon him, especially in a place he knew he was unwanted. But this felt of Interest, of gain, and it sent shivers down his freshly cloned spine. Hastening his exit, Lok made a bee line for the door.

 

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************************************************

 

There were so many questions that flowed upon his mind with little to no answers that Æquitas felt overtly encumbered by the sheer weight of it all. Stepping toward a dented railing that held firmly after Hesperium's aftermath, he leaned into it if only to relieve some of the weight. It had been nearly twenty years since he last set footing upon Coruscant and even in its devastation, it was an alien world to him despite his beginnings here. It was the first place he came as his Master's Padawan, and yet, in the Forty plus years of his extensive life, it was a rare pilgrimage. 

 

Gazing toward where the Great Jedi Temple once stood as a beacon for his Order, he remembered the tale he was once told, of how the Temple had been built over a Nexus of Dark Energy to purify its presence in the Force and how the Fountains served as a reminder of how even in the darkest of days, its beautiful waters could rinse clean a being's soul. And yet, they stood no longer. Only in the memory of those who had seen them could they be pictured once again. With a deep sigh, Æquitas stepped back and knelt.

 

Placing his hand upon the ancient and enduring durasteel plating he stood upon, millennia of traversings having crossed this same pathway, Æquitas opened his mind deeply to the Force and let it traverse the numerous pathways that were and could be taken from here to the Temple as he joined his own memories with the ghosts of the past. He let the Force guide him, his questions placed upon its currents as he searched for their answers not only in the presence, but in the past as well for any Jedi who had ever traversed with thoughts similar to his own.

 

The reality of it was that there were no singular answer to be given, and there was no one right or wrong way for him to continue his path as a Jedi. Even those with the rank of Master knew this solemn truth. But it was Æquitas' hope, his prayers, that he could stem some semblance of which direction he should take to be found in the Force, one that would ease his mind and settle his fears after the plight of Korriban. Something, anything.

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Talyn was sat waiting a short while, observing the interaction. From the look of it one of the Sovereign 's didn't seem particularly pleased over something or other, but it was not his place to say or do anything. Instead he stayed where he was simply watching to see how the new emperor handled the situation and give him an idea of just what he was like from a certain perspective.

 

He appeared to handle the situation with grace and was apparently smarter than he appeared. Tayln approved so far but he would soon see for himself what the man was like. He soon noticed the emperor wave him over and so approached, carrying his helmet with him under one arm. Once he was at the correct t spot, he knelt affording the emperor of the Sovereignty the respect deserving of his station. Bowing after he placed the helmet directly in front of his body, by his feet until he was asked to rise.

 

He lifted his head only to speak.

 

"Greetings my emperor, I am Talyn Orin. Agent of the Sovereignty Intelligence branch of your government and soldier, I am unsure how much you know of me. But I have just recently returned to Coruscant after the last few years undercover among our enemy the fallen Sith Empire. Working within their own ranks upon Korriban to liberate that forsaken world. My return is twofold my emperor. Firstly, to report that with the help of the Jedi Knight, Sanguis Equitas and the droid R.U.I.N along with the rest of the troops of the Sovereignty dispatched to assist us with the task, we have successfully liberated Korriban. A hard fought battle as you can imagine.

 

My second reason for being here is to seek out my next assignment, now that my task there is done there. I am aware there have been many changes since I have been gone and so humbly request my next orders and ask to whom I will now report. Other than yourself that is, I wish to assist in whatever manner you think I may benefit the Sovereignty further."

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  • 2 weeks later...

Beck listened intently to the new agent before him. Or rather, old one that he was just now meeting. Most likely someone who did very well under the command of Kolchak, the admiral he served alongside within the Remnant. He wouldn't have heard of this Talyn due to the nature of the work Kolchak did. Plus, Beck was always more of the straight forward commander, leaning more into special forces and fleet play. At first, he didn't think there would be much for such an agent to do within this new form of governing, but then he remembered some of his old lessons within the academy. If someone strongly believed in something, they were most likely never to walk away from such beliefs so easily. 

 

He raise his hand for a moment as Talyn Orin finished. "... I believe.... There may be..." The emperor let his own words stumble as his mind recalled all of the details of one of the most prominent and war mongering sites he had ever been apart of. With his hand still raised, he beckoned Talyn in closer. "Oovo IV is an old site once used by the Empire long before Raven. I know for a fact that there are files there that could become deadly if they fell into the wrong hands...." Beck leaned back into his seat. "I want for you to see that the facility and information within doesn't fall into the wrong hands."

 

There was some noise of laughter as a nearby group was getting more drunk by the minute. The emperor allowed for a brief eye roll at the sight before returning his attention ack to the agent. "You have full resources available to you from the Sovereignty. Under no circumstances can word of this mission leak outside of those that go with you to complete this task." Beck now turned and looked directly at Talyn to see if there would be any other questions from the agent. 

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So they would turn next to Onderon. The throne of the Spider. A planet now devoid of its princely class, whose people were without guidance. Without a hand to lift them from the void that they had been shackled to for the last decade under the rule of the Sith. He made a formal bow to the emperor, and strode towards the doors. It was time to gather the forces, and begin a formal presence in Iziz. 

 

He almost ran face first into one of his fellow Knights as he made his way to the doorway. He shortened his steps and held his hand out to the man as they walked together. 

 

“Knight Skyshatter, your reputation proceeds you. I am glad that we may work together on this affair. Do you have any insights into what we may need to bring peace to that erstewhile planet?” 

 

Aide was always necessary. Food, medical supplies, the rest. Not to mention a search party for recovering Alliance pilots, jedi, and soldiers that had been lost on that failed crusade. 

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Lord Commander Raphenel Karlovci Contispex- Imperial Warden

 

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  • 2 weeks later...

Talyn listened carefully to the young emperor, Beck Pilon. He nodded his head as he listened, taking mental notes within his mind, especially about the name. He was somewhat familiar with it. Oovi IV was infamous among the intelligence circles, a so called blacksite with a dark history. This would be no easy task but he was used to such high stakes.

 

It would be no different to any other assignment he had done before. He smiled a little as he was given carte blanche, with the full resources of the Sovereignty being put at his disposal. Good. That would make it a lot easier, especially if the facility had since been taken over. That and it would make keeping the assignment a secret much easier.

 

With the intelligence services full weight to hide it or silence if need be any interested parties. 

 

He spoke, still kneeling. Leaning close as the emperor whispered into his ear.

 

 "It shall be done my emperor, for the safety and security of the Sovereignty. If you can, have your men send me personnel files of all those who previously worked there and the facility layout. That would be good start my emperor. I just might be able to find someone who could assist getting us inside if I can look at those records. You have my word, this assignment will remain between us, and  believe I should be able to find someone we can trust. I will get on it as soon as I can. If you have no more need of me, it looks like I have alot of work to do to prepare."

 

 With that he gave another bow before moving away, allowing whoever was next to step forward. From there he set about finding safe and secure location nearby where he could view whatever information was sent.

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  • 4 weeks later...

Azael watched the entrance to the art expo she'd been tipped off to. While high profile crime like art theft was usually not the kind of thing she troubled herself in, but the thief she was asked to find seemed to have a particular skillset, and she was always on the lookout for new talent to recruit for her team. Apparently, the thief in question had managed to snag a valuable piece that the owner desperately wanted back. When she'd asked what he wanted done with the thief, he'd told her he didn't care what happened to her, just that he got his art back.

 

Honestly Azael didn't understand the fascination with expensive art. For the painters, the chances of making it big seemed relatively small. For collectors, they would always have to guard their collections and would only be able to sell to other collectors. But really it was the thieves who had it worst- They had to fight through all the security rich people could buy and then they wouldn't be able to sell the piece outside of already having a buyer set up.

 

Still, she had tracked the speeder that fled from the scene through Coruscant's traffic data, and it led here. Owned by a Rieva Celwik, which matched the owner of the speeder. Her best guess was that that was the owner of the art gala, and she either paid a thief to steal the art, or was a thief herself. Either way, this would be as a much a test for Rieva as it was a job for Azael. She glanced at the blueprint she had bribed a local official for- it was only two levels and a basement- If the stolen piece was still here it wouldn't be too hard to find.

 

The door panel was easy enough- It was a good system, enough to stop most street rats and even professional heist runners, but it wasn't up to par to stop her skillset. She was used to cracking Sith military hardware on the quick. Civilian software just couldn't compare. It was a two step process- First step was to tap into the connection with wherever the security call was routed to. It would probably detect being severed and trigger an automated response, but she was gentler than that. She tapped the line from her datapad, running a program that would quietly intercept any outgoing alarms and send its own confirmation that the message was recieved.

 

The second step was the easier part- Once the program was running, she could easily brute force the system open without fear of triggering the alarm, and that's exactly what she did. She typed in a few commands, overriding the requirement for a passcode through a manufacturer's key, triggering the door to unlock with a series of chirps and a confirmation message flashing across her datapad.

 

She slipped in, shutting the door behind her quietly- There had been no sign of anyone inside, but she'd only watcher for a few hours. Any longer would have roused the suspicion of any locals- something she wanted to avoid right now, given that she was technically committing a crime by entering the way she did. What she would give to have Jude here, watching her back as she made entry.

 

Still, she was armed, and she doubted her would-be thief was afforded the same luxury. All that was left now was to find the art.

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In Rieva’s line of work it was always best to assume that one was always being watched. You never knew who could be sneaking up and checking in on you; officers, thieves, nosey neighbors. The possibilities were endless, so it was best to cover your ass. That started with a good security system and a secret basement that no one aside from her knew about. Not even her closest colleague. Never trust anyone but yourself, that was her code, and she stuck by it. 

 

Rieva was working in the basement when she heard sounds coming from upstairs. Nothing incredibly loud, but noticeable enough for someone used to the sounds of light pitter-patter on wood flooring. How curious she thought as she gently set down the painting she’d been wrapping up, closing it safely in her safe. She was wise with her safes, opting for the blending-in approach in the hope that people would overlook it, and many did. There were a lot of naive fools who called themselves ‘thieves’ these days.

 

With the merchandise safe, Rieva made her way up the stairs, hand hovering over the pistol on her hip as she listened through the wall. Definitely footsteps, though not close. She felt she could safely slip out of the stairwell without being seen. Though waiting was a good option, just to see if they were clever enough to see past the bookshelf ruse, seeing the look on their face when they realized they weren’t alone would be priceless, she was sure. So she stepped out, quietly closing the bookshelf behind her, and crept her way toward where she thought the person was. ”If you’d like to see the art, you’ll have to come back during business hours”. The words slipped past her lips in a mostly professional way, though the sassy ‘I just caught you’ sass was definitely lingering in the air. She was ever vigilant of the person, eyes scanning for any potential others who could be around so she didn’t end up in a trap of her own. 

 

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