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Equilibrium: A Star Wars Story
- Thread starter Effervescent
- Start date
Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
The Galactic Senate remains at an unease. Each day they lose yet another solar system to the separatist movement. Peace and order become more difficult to maintain as the Republic slowly descends into chaos defined by fear. Senators attempt to take matters into their own hands striking backwater deals and seedy negotiations to try and stop the separatist movement and sway the galaxy back in favor of the Republic. Some begin to wonder if this movement will result in war.
Knowing full well the magnitude of the situation, the Jedi advise against engaging in war. The peacekeepers struggle to adequately maintain order as it is with their numbers. But the Republic is very adamant against negotiating terms with the Seperatists with most desiring them to fall back into place as it were.
Under the advisement of the Jedi Council, Chancellor Palpatine has devised a plan to attempt to infiltrate the leaders of the separatist movement in order to dissuade or dismantle their organization from the inside out.
The Galactic Senate remains at an unease. Each day they lose yet another solar system to the separatist movement. Peace and order become more difficult to maintain as the Republic slowly descends into chaos defined by fear. Senators attempt to take matters into their own hands striking backwater deals and seedy negotiations to try and stop the separatist movement and sway the galaxy back in favor of the Republic. Some begin to wonder if this movement will result in war.
Knowing full well the magnitude of the situation, the Jedi advise against engaging in war. The peacekeepers struggle to adequately maintain order as it is with their numbers. But the Republic is very adamant against negotiating terms with the Seperatists with most desiring them to fall back into place as it were.
Under the advisement of the Jedi Council, Chancellor Palpatine has devised a plan to attempt to infiltrate the leaders of the separatist movement in order to dissuade or dismantle their organization from the inside out. It would be no easy feat, and it would be one that would require their chosen team to start from the bottom as a separatist smuggler and work their way to the top. Two candidates were chosen for the task, and when the time was right and the plan was set, they were called to the Chancellor's chambers at the Galactic Senate on Coruscant...
Knowing full well the magnitude of the situation, the Jedi advise against engaging in war. The peacekeepers struggle to adequately maintain order as it is with their numbers. But the Republic is very adamant against negotiating terms with the Seperatists with most desiring them to fall back into place as it were.
Under the advisement of the Jedi Council, Chancellor Palpatine has devised a plan to attempt to infiltrate the leaders of the separatist movement in order to dissuade or dismantle their organization from the inside out.
The Galactic Senate remains at an unease. Each day they lose yet another solar system to the separatist movement. Peace and order become more difficult to maintain as the Republic slowly descends into chaos defined by fear. Senators attempt to take matters into their own hands striking backwater deals and seedy negotiations to try and stop the separatist movement and sway the galaxy back in favor of the Republic. Some begin to wonder if this movement will result in war.
Knowing full well the magnitude of the situation, the Jedi advise against engaging in war. The peacekeepers struggle to adequately maintain order as it is with their numbers. But the Republic is very adamant against negotiating terms with the Seperatists with most desiring them to fall back into place as it were.
Under the advisement of the Jedi Council, Chancellor Palpatine has devised a plan to attempt to infiltrate the leaders of the separatist movement in order to dissuade or dismantle their organization from the inside out. It would be no easy feat, and it would be one that would require their chosen team to start from the bottom as a separatist smuggler and work their way to the top. Two candidates were chosen for the task, and when the time was right and the plan was set, they were called to the Chancellor's chambers at the Galactic Senate on Coruscant...
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
Aides had been dismissed. Councelors had been given administrative leave. Even the Royal Guard itself had been given strict instructions to not interfere with the meeting. The plans discussed would be of the utmost secrecy, requiring that only what ears were necessary be privy to the information. Besides, one of the individuals being given this mission was a Jedi; what did the Chancellor have to fear from a backwater smuggler?
His desk behind him, covered in datapads that needed an attention he could not muster, Palpatine sat in his simple office, watching Coruscant through the transpara-steel window of the multi storied administrative building. Dark eyes gazed out from narrowed eyelids, and he frowned. This whole business was getting out of hand, was taking too long. Hopefully, assuredly, these two would solve the issue for him.
And for the Republic.
He door chimed, and the Chancellor turned to face it, his back to the window and his worries.
"Come in," he answered, his voice bureaucratically smooth.
His desk behind him, covered in datapads that needed an attention he could not muster, Palpatine sat in his simple office, watching Coruscant through the transpara-steel window of the multi storied administrative building. Dark eyes gazed out from narrowed eyelids, and he frowned. This whole business was getting out of hand, was taking too long. Hopefully, assuredly, these two would solve the issue for him.
And for the Republic.
He door chimed, and the Chancellor turned to face it, his back to the window and his worries.
"Come in," he answered, his voice bureaucratically smooth.
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Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
She had expected Master Windu to attend the meeting. He was, after all, the one who assigned her to this mission. Ravara stepped into the chancellor's wide office that looked out upon the expanse of Coruscant's upper levels and grand skyscrapers. It reminded her of the view she saw within the Jedi Council chambers, and it served a great purpose to the young Jedi Knight. It made her feel small; one of many. The city scape gave her a sense of where she belonged, and for a moment she wondered if it served the same purpose for a man like Chancellor Palpatine.
He carried himself well and formal as she entered into his office. The door hissed to a close behind her, and they bowed to each other respectfully. Her briefing before this was clear. She was to act with the intent of peace and to keep the other party in line to insure the mission's success. They knew it would be no easy task for her. Ravara was known to be impatient, and perhaps that was a small reason to choose her for such a mission. She knew it was her skills in adaptation and infiltration that landed her this job.
"The other should be here shortly," Palpatine said to the Jedi with a friendly smile. His hand extended towards one of the chairs that rested before his curved desk. "Please. Sit."
Ravara stepped forward and sat herself upon the chair. It was stiff and curved in towards her small frame. "Thank you," she said, and left it at that. It was clear to her the chancellor wished to save the briefing for the other's arrival.
He carried himself well and formal as she entered into his office. The door hissed to a close behind her, and they bowed to each other respectfully. Her briefing before this was clear. She was to act with the intent of peace and to keep the other party in line to insure the mission's success. They knew it would be no easy task for her. Ravara was known to be impatient, and perhaps that was a small reason to choose her for such a mission. She knew it was her skills in adaptation and infiltration that landed her this job.
"The other should be here shortly," Palpatine said to the Jedi with a friendly smile. His hand extended towards one of the chairs that rested before his curved desk. "Please. Sit."
Ravara stepped forward and sat herself upon the chair. It was stiff and curved in towards her small frame. "Thank you," she said, and left it at that. It was clear to her the chancellor wished to save the briefing for the other's arrival.
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
She didn't have to wait long. From outside the door, the sound of voices filtered through. The second voice in particular, raised in frustration, could be heard more distinctly than the other, while the first was indistinct.
"Inside, you tin can. Where do you think I'm going?" A male voice, gravely but not unpleasant, cut through the door. A vaguely robotic voice responded in monotone. The other voice grunted. "Look, when the Sithing Chancellor requests you, you damn well make it a priority to come say hi. Now outta my way before I move you myself."
There was a pregnant pause, followed by a metallic thud against the hallway wall. The door slid open, entirely without a warning chime as courtesy usually demanded, and a human stepped in. "I tried to warn you," he muttered.
The man was wearing a black long coat which hid most of his features. But the face was discernible: a casually slicked back mane of black hair was accented well by a thin jawline beard, and some kind of metal crescents seemed grafted to the skin on the outside of his eyes, with the points of the crescents facing inwards. He pulled up short when he saw the others, and his eyes roved between them. They examined Ravara far longer than strictly polite, and when he finally did look back to the Chancellor, it was with an eyebrow raised in incredulity.
"A Jedi, Your Holiness? Really?"
"Inside, you tin can. Where do you think I'm going?" A male voice, gravely but not unpleasant, cut through the door. A vaguely robotic voice responded in monotone. The other voice grunted. "Look, when the Sithing Chancellor requests you, you damn well make it a priority to come say hi. Now outta my way before I move you myself."
There was a pregnant pause, followed by a metallic thud against the hallway wall. The door slid open, entirely without a warning chime as courtesy usually demanded, and a human stepped in. "I tried to warn you," he muttered.
The man was wearing a black long coat which hid most of his features. But the face was discernible: a casually slicked back mane of black hair was accented well by a thin jawline beard, and some kind of metal crescents seemed grafted to the skin on the outside of his eyes, with the points of the crescents facing inwards. He pulled up short when he saw the others, and his eyes roved between them. They examined Ravara far longer than strictly polite, and when he finally did look back to the Chancellor, it was with an eyebrow raised in incredulity.
"A Jedi, Your Holiness? Really?"
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Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
Ravara exchanged glances with the chancellor upon hearing the commotion outside. Palpatine seemed amused by it all, his smile still apparent as the rugged man entered his office. She noticed the chancellor had a particular interest in the man, but innocently so. Perhaps it was due to the boisterous nature of his introduction or the humor by which he was inclined. Ravara rose to a stand and inclined her head at his observation. He was going to be a handful for her, no doubt. It didn't make sense to her why Master Windu would place her in such a challenging role as to keep someone like him in line.
"A Jedi is necessary," Palpatine explained as he motioned to the other chair situated before his large desk. He walked around to his own high backed seat, his formal robes of his standing in the senate fluttering heavily as he sat. Ravara followed suit and adjusted her own cloak behind her feet, her grey eyes sparing a brief objective glance towards the newcomer.
"Ravara Lann," Chancellor Palpatine said, "meet your counterpart in this endeavor, Prexis Krayzen. Both of you were carefully selected to infiltrate the Seperatists based on your backgrounds. As I am sure you are both aware, this is a matter that is growing to a considerable concern. Tens of thousands of systems are breaking from the Republic which not only will disrupt our economy but billions of livelihoods presiding under our wing. Even the Jedi Council sees the need for this matter to be handled to return us to our peaceful state."
"A Jedi is necessary," Palpatine explained as he motioned to the other chair situated before his large desk. He walked around to his own high backed seat, his formal robes of his standing in the senate fluttering heavily as he sat. Ravara followed suit and adjusted her own cloak behind her feet, her grey eyes sparing a brief objective glance towards the newcomer.
"Ravara Lann," Chancellor Palpatine said, "meet your counterpart in this endeavor, Prexis Krayzen. Both of you were carefully selected to infiltrate the Seperatists based on your backgrounds. As I am sure you are both aware, this is a matter that is growing to a considerable concern. Tens of thousands of systems are breaking from the Republic which not only will disrupt our economy but billions of livelihoods presiding under our wing. Even the Jedi Council sees the need for this matter to be handled to return us to our peaceful state."
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
"Yeah well. The Jedi aren't what you call 'proactive'. Hence the need for an outside expert." Prexis strolled up to the pair of chairs, coming to a stop behind the empty one. Crossing his arms, he leaned on its back casually, smirking. "I mean, I haven't needed a babysitter in two decades, your Holiness. Those religious types talk big, but..."
He shrugged. With him stretched out a bit as he was in his position, some of his more peculiar features could be seen. First, his hands were entirely mechanical, the black metal dull in the casual light of the office. Secondly, his eyes were almost certainly artificial, and a close look would reveal the twisting of minute dials around his pupils as his eyes focused on various objects.
"I don't mean any offense, uh, Ms. Lann, but the Jedi aren't known for blending in." The Chancellor's brow furrowed, and the smuggler smiled. Big surprise; he doesn't agree. Whatever; he's the one that hired me. "Truth's the truth, Your Holiness."
Palpatine shook his head.
"The Jedi are far more interested, and far more involved, than you or most people realize. And they are most certainly as concerned as I about this movement. That is why I requested their aid in this."
He shrugged. With him stretched out a bit as he was in his position, some of his more peculiar features could be seen. First, his hands were entirely mechanical, the black metal dull in the casual light of the office. Secondly, his eyes were almost certainly artificial, and a close look would reveal the twisting of minute dials around his pupils as his eyes focused on various objects.
"I don't mean any offense, uh, Ms. Lann, but the Jedi aren't known for blending in." The Chancellor's brow furrowed, and the smuggler smiled. Big surprise; he doesn't agree. Whatever; he's the one that hired me. "Truth's the truth, Your Holiness."
Palpatine shook his head.
"The Jedi are far more interested, and far more involved, than you or most people realize. And they are most certainly as concerned as I about this movement. That is why I requested their aid in this."
Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
"I assure you," Ravana responded calmly, "my presence is no slight towards your abilities, Mr. Krayzen. It is actually more along the lines of you assisting me. You underestimate the Jedi, but you are correct in that we require an outside expert. You were chosen for that very reason. I alone cannot convince the entire Seperatist Council that I am reputable to their liking as my history would have no readily available endorsements."
Prexis's opinion of her was very outward. Ravara didn't need the Force to see he didn't feel he even needed her to get the job done. But that was out of his jurisdiction and held within his employer, Chancellor Palpatine. The chancellor remained vigilant in his decision, his mind never wavering from the concept of the duo before him despite Prexis and his comments.
"Not to worry, Krayzen," he said assuringly. "There will be no babysitter for you. I need you two working as a team. Krayzen holds ownership of his own craft, to which I want you two to use for your initial introduction into the Seperatists. Intelligence has secured a shipment on Nar Shaddaa designated to be sent to a planet presiding in one of the systems just recently parted from the Republic. Your contact on Nar Shaddaa is Agent Dag'il. He should be waiting for you upon your arrival. Coordinates for the port on Nar Shaddaa have been sent to your ship's terminal. I hope you don't mind me taking the liberty."
Palpatine tapped a few buttons across the screen of his datapad as he spoke and gave strategic pause for any questions or comments. Ravara remained quiet and focused as she reviewed their task within her mind.
Prexis's opinion of her was very outward. Ravara didn't need the Force to see he didn't feel he even needed her to get the job done. But that was out of his jurisdiction and held within his employer, Chancellor Palpatine. The chancellor remained vigilant in his decision, his mind never wavering from the concept of the duo before him despite Prexis and his comments.
"Not to worry, Krayzen," he said assuringly. "There will be no babysitter for you. I need you two working as a team. Krayzen holds ownership of his own craft, to which I want you two to use for your initial introduction into the Seperatists. Intelligence has secured a shipment on Nar Shaddaa designated to be sent to a planet presiding in one of the systems just recently parted from the Republic. Your contact on Nar Shaddaa is Agent Dag'il. He should be waiting for you upon your arrival. Coordinates for the port on Nar Shaddaa have been sent to your ship's terminal. I hope you don't mind me taking the liberty."
Palpatine tapped a few buttons across the screen of his datapad as he spoke and gave strategic pause for any questions or comments. Ravara remained quiet and focused as she reviewed their task within her mind.
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
The cyborg's expression darkened.
"Nightfire is a precious friend to me; people should ask my permission before invading her data banks. Especially if they want me to do a job for them. So yeah, I do mind."
There was...sensitive material that he'd rather the Republic stay ignorant of. Criminals don't just go around talking about their misdeeds with government types, after all. In his emotion, Prexis had stood upright, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Finally he cleared his throat and resumed his initial position.
"But whatever. So, 'Dag'il', huh? I hope this agent isn't obvious as my friend here is likely to be. And what, he just finds us, hands over the crates, and we jet them to where exactly?"
Palpatine remained stoic throughout Krayzen's outburst, fingers interlaced on his lap in patient strength. He smiled.
"Dag'il will instruct you on the ensuing details. And don't worry: like our Jedi protectors, Dag'il is more capable than you realize."
"Yeah well, jury's still out, isn't it?" The smuggler peered down at his companion. Okay, so she was pretty: he wasn't made of stone, dammit. But from what he'd heard, the Jedi didn't put too much stock into that kind of thing.
No attachments, right? Shame. She'd really be a looker after a spruce and wearing something a little less...monastic.
"And what about you, Ravara? Space-cat got your tongue? Or does your code of ethics restrict speaking in the presence of men or something?"
"Nightfire is a precious friend to me; people should ask my permission before invading her data banks. Especially if they want me to do a job for them. So yeah, I do mind."
There was...sensitive material that he'd rather the Republic stay ignorant of. Criminals don't just go around talking about their misdeeds with government types, after all. In his emotion, Prexis had stood upright, his arms folded tightly across his chest. Finally he cleared his throat and resumed his initial position.
"But whatever. So, 'Dag'il', huh? I hope this agent isn't obvious as my friend here is likely to be. And what, he just finds us, hands over the crates, and we jet them to where exactly?"
Palpatine remained stoic throughout Krayzen's outburst, fingers interlaced on his lap in patient strength. He smiled.
"Dag'il will instruct you on the ensuing details. And don't worry: like our Jedi protectors, Dag'il is more capable than you realize."
"Yeah well, jury's still out, isn't it?" The smuggler peered down at his companion. Okay, so she was pretty: he wasn't made of stone, dammit. But from what he'd heard, the Jedi didn't put too much stock into that kind of thing.
No attachments, right? Shame. She'd really be a looker after a spruce and wearing something a little less...monastic.
"And what about you, Ravara? Space-cat got your tongue? Or does your code of ethics restrict speaking in the presence of men or something?"
Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
A smile spread across her features. As much as Prexis was likely to grate her nerves in the near future, right now she understood many of her concerns. Jedi weren't known to complete tasks such as these. They were more outwardly hailed as negotiators and mediators of the peace, as they are. But having everyone know of their more quieter tactics would negate the success of peace elsewhere. Sometimes this very tactic was called for to get the job done, and that was where Jedi like Ravara came into play. Peace was still the ultimate goal. Perhaps that bothered Prexis as well...
"Your concerns are noted," she said, "but you are going to have to accept that we are to complete this task together. I urge you to trust the chancellor's decision. I wouldn't be here if he didn't feel it was necessary."
Palpatine was pleased with the praise he received, but it was not for his benefit. Prexis didn't seem to regard Chancellor Palpatine in too high of a regard. He threw out titles in almost a mocking fashion. Ravara needed him to understand, however, that nothing he said would sway Palpatine's decision. She thought a man like Prexis would be a little more expendable given he wasn't the only shady pilot in the galaxy. Then again, in that very same light, she wasn't the only Jedi. For whatever reason they were chosen to be the only ones fit for the mission, and that was enough for her own resolve.
"I want to know names of their leaders," Palpatine continued. He placed a comm device on his desk. "I want to know any pertinent information of what they are planning. Who they wish to sway. And when you infiltrate their leadership, I want you to crumble their operations for good. This device will send any communications directly to me. Don't lose it."
"Your concerns are noted," she said, "but you are going to have to accept that we are to complete this task together. I urge you to trust the chancellor's decision. I wouldn't be here if he didn't feel it was necessary."
Palpatine was pleased with the praise he received, but it was not for his benefit. Prexis didn't seem to regard Chancellor Palpatine in too high of a regard. He threw out titles in almost a mocking fashion. Ravara needed him to understand, however, that nothing he said would sway Palpatine's decision. She thought a man like Prexis would be a little more expendable given he wasn't the only shady pilot in the galaxy. Then again, in that very same light, she wasn't the only Jedi. For whatever reason they were chosen to be the only ones fit for the mission, and that was enough for her own resolve.
"I want to know names of their leaders," Palpatine continued. He placed a comm device on his desk. "I want to know any pertinent information of what they are planning. Who they wish to sway. And when you infiltrate their leadership, I want you to crumble their operations for good. This device will send any communications directly to me. Don't lose it."
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
Prexis stepped around the chair to retrieve the device. He examined it with an air of disinterest.
"So what kind of power does this thing use to boost a signal that far? Or is it update you through the HoloNet?" Weighing it in his hand briefly, he tossed it up in the air, caught it, and shoved it in a pocket. "Well, you've given us a good long grocery list. You need anything else while we're out, Your Holiness? A bag of Spice? A pet Rancor?"
But the Chancellor only smiled. Smugglers didn't belong in political settings, where courtesy and respect were necessary to maintain interoperability. No, they belonged in the streets and in the bars, rubbing elbows with their fellow criminals. Which was exactly the point. Ravara, for all her Jedi powers, did not know the underworld as Krayzen did. And the smuggler, for all his street smarts, did not understand subtlety and its benefits. Both were necessary to achieve this worthy goal; both were needed to achieve equilibrium in the galaxy.
When Palpatine failed to react appreciably, Prexis shrugged. The old man was his employer, and while the job was certainly one of the more...involved jobs that he'd ever encountered, it was nothing that a little smarm, a bit of wit, and a fair bit of luck couldn't pull off. With an exaggerated and badly performed bow, the cyborg turned to the door.
"Meet you at the Nightfire, Whitey," he called over his shoulder to Ravara. "She's docked at the old Proscenium building, in bay 72. We leave at 0500 hours."
And he walked out, the door opening and closing with its telltale hiss in response. The Chancellor shook his head ever so slightly, a tiredness in his eyes reflecting the exasperation that the young Jedi must surely have felt, and sighed apologetically.
"Capability can be found in many places, even smugglers of ill manners. Don't think him incapable. He has a reputation for doing the unlikely.
"All the same, I am truly sorry to ask you to work with him."
"So what kind of power does this thing use to boost a signal that far? Or is it update you through the HoloNet?" Weighing it in his hand briefly, he tossed it up in the air, caught it, and shoved it in a pocket. "Well, you've given us a good long grocery list. You need anything else while we're out, Your Holiness? A bag of Spice? A pet Rancor?"
But the Chancellor only smiled. Smugglers didn't belong in political settings, where courtesy and respect were necessary to maintain interoperability. No, they belonged in the streets and in the bars, rubbing elbows with their fellow criminals. Which was exactly the point. Ravara, for all her Jedi powers, did not know the underworld as Krayzen did. And the smuggler, for all his street smarts, did not understand subtlety and its benefits. Both were necessary to achieve this worthy goal; both were needed to achieve equilibrium in the galaxy.
When Palpatine failed to react appreciably, Prexis shrugged. The old man was his employer, and while the job was certainly one of the more...involved jobs that he'd ever encountered, it was nothing that a little smarm, a bit of wit, and a fair bit of luck couldn't pull off. With an exaggerated and badly performed bow, the cyborg turned to the door.
"Meet you at the Nightfire, Whitey," he called over his shoulder to Ravara. "She's docked at the old Proscenium building, in bay 72. We leave at 0500 hours."
And he walked out, the door opening and closing with its telltale hiss in response. The Chancellor shook his head ever so slightly, a tiredness in his eyes reflecting the exasperation that the young Jedi must surely have felt, and sighed apologetically.
"Capability can be found in many places, even smugglers of ill manners. Don't think him incapable. He has a reputation for doing the unlikely.
"All the same, I am truly sorry to ask you to work with him."
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Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
Ravara rose from her seat and respectfully bowed to Chancellor Palpatine once again. He stood and inclined his head, his lips pursing into a contemplative line. She could see the apology was genuine, but why the chancellor felt such was not something the Jedi Knight fully understood. It wasn't a lack of confidence in his decision that brought it forward. It seemed to be a little more, but what it was she couldn't place.
"No need for apologies, chancellor," Ravara said. "I trust your judgement. This is a good opportunity to bring peace back to the galaxy, and I will gladly take on the cost."
"Good," Palpatine said with a warm smile. "I look forward to what you may uncover."
She had the night to prepare for the arduous journey ahead. This was perhaps the most burdening task she had ever been assigned, and it was difficult to push back her nerves. Most of the night was spent in meditation, or at least attempting to do so to find calmness within. It became a more difficult task as the night grew eventually into the morning.
Her frustrations led her to the port earlier than Prexis had said. Adorned in civilian clothes, Ravara looked the part of an everyday commuter looking for passage out of the city. Her hair was tied back loosely against the nape of her neck and secured with a leather chord. She was dressed simply with a weathered looking jacket over her small frame that gave her a bit of bulk. Her lightsaber was tucked away in the satchel shrugged over her shoulder so as to not completely give herself away.
Walking into Bay 72, Ravara gandered at the ship he named Nightfire. It was smaller than she expected, and she wondered if the chancellor was even aware of this fact before assigning them to a mission that would start with logistics. It didn't seem like they would be able to carry much apart from themselves. Jedi luckily packed very light.
"No need for apologies, chancellor," Ravara said. "I trust your judgement. This is a good opportunity to bring peace back to the galaxy, and I will gladly take on the cost."
"Good," Palpatine said with a warm smile. "I look forward to what you may uncover."
She had the night to prepare for the arduous journey ahead. This was perhaps the most burdening task she had ever been assigned, and it was difficult to push back her nerves. Most of the night was spent in meditation, or at least attempting to do so to find calmness within. It became a more difficult task as the night grew eventually into the morning.
Her frustrations led her to the port earlier than Prexis had said. Adorned in civilian clothes, Ravara looked the part of an everyday commuter looking for passage out of the city. Her hair was tied back loosely against the nape of her neck and secured with a leather chord. She was dressed simply with a weathered looking jacket over her small frame that gave her a bit of bulk. Her lightsaber was tucked away in the satchel shrugged over her shoulder so as to not completely give herself away.
Walking into Bay 72, Ravara gandered at the ship he named Nightfire. It was smaller than she expected, and she wondered if the chancellor was even aware of this fact before assigning them to a mission that would start with logistics. It didn't seem like they would be able to carry much apart from themselves. Jedi luckily packed very light.
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
The bay echoed with her steps as her feet made impact with the metal surface. Bay 72, and indeed the old Proscenium building itself, was a shadow of its former life, standing testament to the decline of economic power that the Republic now suffered. Little in the way of tools of repair or outfitting stood within the much too large space, and the little cargo freighter was dwarfed by the emptiness around it. It certainly stood out: the ship was well cared for, and apart from several gouges in the hull and scratches on the paint, the Nightfire looked to be a worthy ship. But for now, it lay as quiet as its surroundings, and as oblivious to the chaos beginning in the galaxy as its owner was to the fact that his partner had arrived.
Inside, Prexis sat slouched in his bunk. His head was tilted downward at an awkward angle, and he snored loudly. About his bunk and strewn across the durasteel floor were empty bottles of alcohol, speaking far greater volumes when taken in context of the datapad on the floor. It lay where it had fallen some hours earlier, dropped from its unconscious owner's artificial hand, and the screen fuzzed off and on with a partially corrupted data picture file. Several different persons stood in a group picture arrangement, Prexis among them, and they were all smiling.
The proximity alarm beeped at the Jedi's approach, and the ship locked down its entries as it was programmed to with a clack, but still the cyborg slept, wandering halls of drowsy regret and memory.
Inside, Prexis sat slouched in his bunk. His head was tilted downward at an awkward angle, and he snored loudly. About his bunk and strewn across the durasteel floor were empty bottles of alcohol, speaking far greater volumes when taken in context of the datapad on the floor. It lay where it had fallen some hours earlier, dropped from its unconscious owner's artificial hand, and the screen fuzzed off and on with a partially corrupted data picture file. Several different persons stood in a group picture arrangement, Prexis among them, and they were all smiling.
The proximity alarm beeped at the Jedi's approach, and the ship locked down its entries as it was programmed to with a clack, but still the cyborg slept, wandering halls of drowsy regret and memory.
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Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
The door to the ship hissed closed quickly after a small chime of an alarm. Ravara huffed a sigh through her nose, lips pursing ever so slightly as she approached the ship'd entrance and pressed a button to open the comm channel. "Prexis?" she called. Already her patience was wearing. She could feel it thin as though it were a tangible object within her grasp. It wasn't helping that there came no immediate response. Was he even there? Her head shot back to look over her shoulder. Displayed on the far wall towards the elevators to the main hall was a display in bright orange, and upon it was the time. It was clear she wasn't too early, nor was she late. But where was Prexis?
Closing her eyes, Ravara reached out for the Force. Perhaps there was something she missed, and as her sense honed she felt for disturbances. Nothing seemed out of place. There was no indication of foul play that she could sense. There was the trace of a single life form, calm and... Asleep.
Ravara's brow lowered to a furrow, eyes opening and jaw setting as she fought back her irritation. Her connection with the Force dissipated as she could no longer hold back how she felt. They were about to embark on a mission that would require great care, and he even suggested an early start. Yet there he was asleep and locked away in his ship. She wanted a good night's sleep, too, but there she was bright and early.
"Prexis!" she called through the comms once again. "Open the door, please."
Closing her eyes, Ravara reached out for the Force. Perhaps there was something she missed, and as her sense honed she felt for disturbances. Nothing seemed out of place. There was no indication of foul play that she could sense. There was the trace of a single life form, calm and... Asleep.
Ravara's brow lowered to a furrow, eyes opening and jaw setting as she fought back her irritation. Her connection with the Force dissipated as she could no longer hold back how she felt. They were about to embark on a mission that would require great care, and he even suggested an early start. Yet there he was asleep and locked away in his ship. She wanted a good night's sleep, too, but there she was bright and early.
"Prexis!" she called through the comms once again. "Open the door, please."
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
He stirred in his sleep again as she called his name a second time. Five more minutes... But someone was being persistent. His eyes cracked open, his optics shifting from hibernation to wakefulness. Time to get this show on the road. Mashing the intercom response, Prexis muttered a response.
"I'm...I'm coming. Hold on."
Pushing himself out of bed and ignoring any kind of daily hygienic routine, the smuggler stumbled to the entry hatch. He slapped his hand at the switch to lower the ramp, then slapped his hand about several more times blearily until he finally activated it. With a hiss it lowered, the leftmost servo groaning in protest. Prexis frowned; one more thing to fix. Eyes open in narrow slits against the dull light of the bay, he looked out.
"Yrr-uuurly," he mumbled, ignoring the giant clock in plain view on the bay wall.
"I'm...I'm coming. Hold on."
Pushing himself out of bed and ignoring any kind of daily hygienic routine, the smuggler stumbled to the entry hatch. He slapped his hand at the switch to lower the ramp, then slapped his hand about several more times blearily until he finally activated it. With a hiss it lowered, the leftmost servo groaning in protest. Prexis frowned; one more thing to fix. Eyes open in narrow slits against the dull light of the bay, he looked out.
"Yrr-uuurly," he mumbled, ignoring the giant clock in plain view on the bay wall.
Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
By the time the ramp lowered, Ravara was able to bring her emotions back in check. Her master arduously tackled her issues in that regard early on in her apprenticeship giving her focusing exercises and methods to deter her irritations before it got out of hand. It was a constant problem with Ravara, and one she was often embarrassed to admit for it displayed she was not always up to the same standards as her kin. While public opinion did have its place for the Jedi, that was merely all it was. It was common to believe Jedi were emotionless and incapable of feeling.
"On the contrary," Master Ballae Dran said to her long ago. "We all carry emotions we have to set aside daily. It is a sacrifice we take to keep our minds clear not only to tackle each mission without bias but to insure we perform our task as peacekeepers in this galaxy to the best of our abilities. The Dark Side clouds many things, including our own judgement if we let it. Be mindful of your feelings, but don't think you are alone in the struggle. Patience is key."
Her former master's words carried weight even to this day, and helped ground her mind. Ravara calmly ascended the ramp and entered the ship with a soft nod of her head to Prexis as she passed. "I am on time," she stated. "Per your request, it is 05:00 hours. Do you require any assistance in preparations to depart?"
"On the contrary," Master Ballae Dran said to her long ago. "We all carry emotions we have to set aside daily. It is a sacrifice we take to keep our minds clear not only to tackle each mission without bias but to insure we perform our task as peacekeepers in this galaxy to the best of our abilities. The Dark Side clouds many things, including our own judgement if we let it. Be mindful of your feelings, but don't think you are alone in the struggle. Patience is key."
Her former master's words carried weight even to this day, and helped ground her mind. Ravara calmly ascended the ramp and entered the ship with a soft nod of her head to Prexis as she passed. "I am on time," she stated. "Per your request, it is 05:00 hours. Do you require any assistance in preparations to depart?"
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
On time? She thought he was serious? What kind of masochistic- And did she have to talk so loudly? The pounding in his head threatened to destroy what little good nature he'd awoken with. Wincing as he tried to subdue the headache, Prexis slapped the activation for the ramp once again and turned to follow.
"Yeah, go find a bunk and get yourself situated. I think the first one to the left is the cleanest." He made the opposite turn from where he'd directed Ravara. "And stay outta the way."
He'd walked this path plenty of times. Hell, he'd done it drugged to hell on some concoction some son of a Bith had given him once. But those damn stairs bit into his shins every time. They'd have to be removed.
Whatever.
The cyborg climbed into the cockpit nursing his sore leg. It was something of a cramped space, with only three seats available: pilot, copilot, and navigator situated behind the copilot's seat. It made sense, for the ship wasn't designed to care large amounts of persons or cargo. It was instead made for quick runs of small amounts, the freight usually expensive and wanted quickly. Thus, while the weapons systems and hull and shielding weren't anything special, the engines were fast. Remarkably so, and Prexis had always let that fact slip more than once. But he knew that was a good way to get a blaster bolt to the chest, and he liked living.
He cast himself into the pilot's chair and swivled to face the console. A single light flashed, indicating standby mode. Wrinkling his nose at the effort of being up so damn early, Prexis reached up and began starting up the system.
"Yeah, go find a bunk and get yourself situated. I think the first one to the left is the cleanest." He made the opposite turn from where he'd directed Ravara. "And stay outta the way."
He'd walked this path plenty of times. Hell, he'd done it drugged to hell on some concoction some son of a Bith had given him once. But those damn stairs bit into his shins every time. They'd have to be removed.
Whatever.
The cyborg climbed into the cockpit nursing his sore leg. It was something of a cramped space, with only three seats available: pilot, copilot, and navigator situated behind the copilot's seat. It made sense, for the ship wasn't designed to care large amounts of persons or cargo. It was instead made for quick runs of small amounts, the freight usually expensive and wanted quickly. Thus, while the weapons systems and hull and shielding weren't anything special, the engines were fast. Remarkably so, and Prexis had always let that fact slip more than once. But he knew that was a good way to get a blaster bolt to the chest, and he liked living.
He cast himself into the pilot's chair and swivled to face the console. A single light flashed, indicating standby mode. Wrinkling his nose at the effort of being up so damn early, Prexis reached up and began starting up the system.
Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
This was often a situation where the Jedi's presence was not particularly desired. Most had their own methods of working in their familiar environments, and the Jedi always took the stance of melting into the background. Out of sight and out of mind. Being any sort of an irritant would be counter productive, and it was an eye opening lesson for Ravara in her younger years, one that stuck with her due to her own emotional struggles. She bowed her head respectfully to Prexis and headed for the bunks, her footsteps light and her mouth shut.
The cleanest room was more of a mess than she anticipated. Items were discarded and in disarray that collected in piles throughout the room. There was at least a semblance of a path towards the bed that rested inlaid within the wall. Ravara dragged a foot across the flooring to scoot a pile of expended blaster packs away enough so that she could place her small satchel next to the bed. As much as she wanted to clean, it was not her mess, and she remembered from past experiences even cleaning could result in unrest.
Nar Shaddaa wouldn't be too far of a flight from Coruscant. She had only been to the planet once in an effort to track down a Republic official that had been kidnapped. Her visit was brief and obvious as they had made no efforts to conceal their identities during that mission. But even in that short time in the expansive, seedy city, she got a good understanding of the corruption brewing outside Republic jurisdiction.
The entire flight, if left alone, would be spent attempting quiet meditation. The Force would guide them whether Prexis wanted it to or not. Sitting herself upon the bed, she connected with the Force and began to quiet her surroundings. It flowed through her like the gentle trickle of water downstream.
The cleanest room was more of a mess than she anticipated. Items were discarded and in disarray that collected in piles throughout the room. There was at least a semblance of a path towards the bed that rested inlaid within the wall. Ravara dragged a foot across the flooring to scoot a pile of expended blaster packs away enough so that she could place her small satchel next to the bed. As much as she wanted to clean, it was not her mess, and she remembered from past experiences even cleaning could result in unrest.
Nar Shaddaa wouldn't be too far of a flight from Coruscant. She had only been to the planet once in an effort to track down a Republic official that had been kidnapped. Her visit was brief and obvious as they had made no efforts to conceal their identities during that mission. But even in that short time in the expansive, seedy city, she got a good understanding of the corruption brewing outside Republic jurisdiction.
The entire flight, if left alone, would be spent attempting quiet meditation. The Force would guide them whether Prexis wanted it to or not. Sitting herself upon the bed, she connected with the Force and began to quiet her surroundings. It flowed through her like the gentle trickle of water downstream.
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Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
She would, sadly, not be left alone.
The engines hummed to life. Prexis keyed up the liftoff sequence, threw a few more switches to activate repulsors and raise the landing gear, and placed his hand to the controls. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath; it was always exciting, beginning a new job. And this one took the cake: his employer was Palpatine himself, and he had a partner, and a Jedi no less! Yes, this be one hell of an adventure. I'm practiced fingers moved across the console. In response Nightfire rotated to face the bay exit. With a quick shove of the thruster, the ship blasted forward and into the early morning darkness. Slowly the glow of artificial lights was replaced by the natural glow of a billion brilliant suns, each an infinite distance away. Finally Coruscant's gravity well released its hold on them. A quick galactic coordinate recall later, the lines of hyperspace enveloped his view, and Nightfire was en route to Nar Shaddaa. And Prexis was en route to the refresher.
Truth be told, the smuggler really did hate being the seen in such disarray. A quick wit didn't win people over by itself. The fact that the Jedi had seen him in what he considered a fairly compromised position really bothered him. And while he couldn't recover that impression, he could certainly make a new one. The smuggler cleaned himself up as quickly as he could, threw on his typical garb, and was standing in front of the Jedi's bunk door fifteen minutes after making the jump. The hangover still haunted his brain, but he could manage well enough. A light clang echoed through the hall as the smuggler rapped on the door.
"Hey! You get situated?"
The engines hummed to life. Prexis keyed up the liftoff sequence, threw a few more switches to activate repulsors and raise the landing gear, and placed his hand to the controls. His nostrils flared as he took a deep breath; it was always exciting, beginning a new job. And this one took the cake: his employer was Palpatine himself, and he had a partner, and a Jedi no less! Yes, this be one hell of an adventure. I'm practiced fingers moved across the console. In response Nightfire rotated to face the bay exit. With a quick shove of the thruster, the ship blasted forward and into the early morning darkness. Slowly the glow of artificial lights was replaced by the natural glow of a billion brilliant suns, each an infinite distance away. Finally Coruscant's gravity well released its hold on them. A quick galactic coordinate recall later, the lines of hyperspace enveloped his view, and Nightfire was en route to Nar Shaddaa. And Prexis was en route to the refresher.
Truth be told, the smuggler really did hate being the seen in such disarray. A quick wit didn't win people over by itself. The fact that the Jedi had seen him in what he considered a fairly compromised position really bothered him. And while he couldn't recover that impression, he could certainly make a new one. The smuggler cleaned himself up as quickly as he could, threw on his typical garb, and was standing in front of the Jedi's bunk door fifteen minutes after making the jump. The hangover still haunted his brain, but he could manage well enough. A light clang echoed through the hall as the smuggler rapped on the door.
"Hey! You get situated?"
Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
The muffled words snapped her out of meditation with ease, her body tensing momentarily before her shoulders slumped. Surprisingly, Ravara didn't feel any semblance of irritation at the interruption. It was more curiosity that came forward. Prexis had seemed more inclined to segregation before, and yet he engaged her in even a small form of conversation. She rose from her bed and carefully moved towards the door to open it.
"I have," she said as the door hissed open to the hall. The ship's engines hummed softly in ambiance. She could feel the faint vibrations at her feet as they coursed through hyperspace. It was clear this man cared about his ship and was just lazy about other things in his life. Her gaze scanned over him thoughtfully as she noticed his appearance had changed since their departure, but now as close as she was to him, she could smell a tinge on his breath.
"I have a feeling we may end up traveling a fair bit," she continued. "Would you mind if I cleaned the room I am to stay in?"
"I have," she said as the door hissed open to the hall. The ship's engines hummed softly in ambiance. She could feel the faint vibrations at her feet as they coursed through hyperspace. It was clear this man cared about his ship and was just lazy about other things in his life. Her gaze scanned over him thoughtfully as she noticed his appearance had changed since their departure, but now as close as she was to him, she could smell a tinge on his breath.
"I have a feeling we may end up traveling a fair bit," she continued. "Would you mind if I cleaned the room I am to stay in?"
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
She was...asking his permission? Most people he had onboard just did what they wanted within the confines of their bunk. He'd assumed she would, too. So he shrugged in response.
"Do what you want to with it. Just don't throw anything out. Never can tell when some of that junk may come in handy, never mind that the stuff makes for easy credits in a pinch."
Prexis glanced past her. Ravara didn't seem to have brought much: a satchel? It seemed the reputation of the Jedi being veritable monks in their lack of possessions held true. It'd make traveling with her that much easier on him, that was certain. Nodding, he looked back at her.
"And, uh, I don't guess you're likely to screw with my ship, so feel free to wander around and familiarize yourself. You any good behind a ship's cannon?"
"Do what you want to with it. Just don't throw anything out. Never can tell when some of that junk may come in handy, never mind that the stuff makes for easy credits in a pinch."
Prexis glanced past her. Ravara didn't seem to have brought much: a satchel? It seemed the reputation of the Jedi being veritable monks in their lack of possessions held true. It'd make traveling with her that much easier on him, that was certain. Nodding, he looked back at her.
"And, uh, I don't guess you're likely to screw with my ship, so feel free to wander around and familiarize yourself. You any good behind a ship's cannon?"
Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
"I haven't," Ravara admitted as she crossed her arms over her chest. "I haven't been on many missions that called for such a need, and in those few I was with my master who took the lead. Let us hope we do not have to resort to such methods in our endeavors. We are to go about this mission peacefully."
Her eyes trailed back over her shoulder into the room in disarray. Once she had meandered through the ship she was likey to tackle this mess. Was he that much of a credit pincher to need to hoard every scrap of junk he came across? It didn't look like some of the items would fetch much on any market, but she understood sometimes people get desperate. Who was she to judge?
"I will be sure to avoid removing anything from the ship," she assured. "How soon to Nar Shaddaa?"
Her eyes trailed back over her shoulder into the room in disarray. Once she had meandered through the ship she was likey to tackle this mess. Was he that much of a credit pincher to need to hoard every scrap of junk he came across? It didn't look like some of the items would fetch much on any market, but she understood sometimes people get desperate. Who was she to judge?
"I will be sure to avoid removing anything from the ship," she assured. "How soon to Nar Shaddaa?"
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
Ah. Usually the first question from those who didn't enjoy the journey. And it was never soon enough for them.
"Coruscant to Nar Shaddaa?" Prexis scratched his beard. "It usually takes four or five days for most ships. For Nightfire it'll take three. Not terrible, as far as trips to the Outer Rim are concerned, but even for her it's not a quick thing. Why, you have a boyfriend waiting or something? A mighty fine slug on Nal Hutta you just need to see? Or are you just antsy for the nightlife?"
Chuckling, the smuggler turned to go. But he stopped and looked back, his face somber and serious.
"That nightlife can get you killed, Jedi; be prepared for anything. You may want this to go peacefully, and hell, I'm all for avoiding needless bloodshed, but this is Nar Shaddaa we're talking about. I guarantee that something will happen, and when it does, I need to know you've got my back, as I have yours. Savvy?"
"Coruscant to Nar Shaddaa?" Prexis scratched his beard. "It usually takes four or five days for most ships. For Nightfire it'll take three. Not terrible, as far as trips to the Outer Rim are concerned, but even for her it's not a quick thing. Why, you have a boyfriend waiting or something? A mighty fine slug on Nal Hutta you just need to see? Or are you just antsy for the nightlife?"
Chuckling, the smuggler turned to go. But he stopped and looked back, his face somber and serious.
"That nightlife can get you killed, Jedi; be prepared for anything. You may want this to go peacefully, and hell, I'm all for avoiding needless bloodshed, but this is Nar Shaddaa we're talking about. I guarantee that something will happen, and when it does, I need to know you've got my back, as I have yours. Savvy?"
Effervescent
Rests Chin In Hands
Ravara chuckled softly at his jest. It seemed his little show with Palpatine was not a doubt towards their job working together or his skepticism in the Jedi as a whole. She was confident in her abilities to blend in with many tasks over various cultures. The fact that she was Echani could never fully be hidden unless she hid her hair, but traversing through a neutral planet like Nar Shaddaa meant she wouldn't really need to. No one was likely to give her a second glance, especially since she was no longer adorned in her traditional tunic.
Her impatience was apparently noted even just in one simple question. Even three days felt like too long, and she was ready to jump into the coming task without pause. She walked out of her bunk room and brought her hands to clasp behind her as she slowly meandered after Prexis. She scanned over him as his tone took a quick turn from playful to serious, and inclined her head in respect to his concern.
"I understand," she said. "I'll have your back. But I do not wish to use the Force offensively unless absolutely necessary as it could compromise our mission before it even begins. Do keep that in mind before engaging in anything unsavory. I believe it may be to our advantage to come up with a story for our presence should the need arise. We already have that we are picking up a shipment of goods to be transported off world. What is your standing in the galaxy, Prexis? Perhaps there is something there we can play off of. I'm sure that's one reason why the chancellor chose you."
Her impatience was apparently noted even just in one simple question. Even three days felt like too long, and she was ready to jump into the coming task without pause. She walked out of her bunk room and brought her hands to clasp behind her as she slowly meandered after Prexis. She scanned over him as his tone took a quick turn from playful to serious, and inclined her head in respect to his concern.
"I understand," she said. "I'll have your back. But I do not wish to use the Force offensively unless absolutely necessary as it could compromise our mission before it even begins. Do keep that in mind before engaging in anything unsavory. I believe it may be to our advantage to come up with a story for our presence should the need arise. We already have that we are picking up a shipment of goods to be transported off world. What is your standing in the galaxy, Prexis? Perhaps there is something there we can play off of. I'm sure that's one reason why the chancellor chose you."
Red Thunder
Two Thousand Club
Prexis shrugged.
"It was my irresistible charm, I imagine. Or perhaps that I was the only criminal willing to work with the Republic like I am. Who the hell knows.
"But you're right about having a cover story." He rounded the corner into the refresher. As with most of Nightfire, the room was a mess: a few food wrappers were on the floor near the disposal unit, having clearly fallen short of their target; a blaster pistol was broken apart, an old cleaning kit sitting near it; and a board of dejarik sat in the curve of a bench seat, its flickering holographic pieces indicative of a forgotten game upon the poorly maintained board. Prexis opened a cabinet at eye level and pulled out a bottle of Corellian Firewhiskey and a glass. He took a moment to pour himself a glass then turned to his companion.
"Ya know, your point about blending in, not using the Force or whatever, was a good one. You need to be able to fight back if you have to, and your laser sword will give you away." Eyes squinted as he looked hard at her. "You ever use a blaster before, Whitey?"
"It was my irresistible charm, I imagine. Or perhaps that I was the only criminal willing to work with the Republic like I am. Who the hell knows.
"But you're right about having a cover story." He rounded the corner into the refresher. As with most of Nightfire, the room was a mess: a few food wrappers were on the floor near the disposal unit, having clearly fallen short of their target; a blaster pistol was broken apart, an old cleaning kit sitting near it; and a board of dejarik sat in the curve of a bench seat, its flickering holographic pieces indicative of a forgotten game upon the poorly maintained board. Prexis opened a cabinet at eye level and pulled out a bottle of Corellian Firewhiskey and a glass. He took a moment to pour himself a glass then turned to his companion.
"Ya know, your point about blending in, not using the Force or whatever, was a good one. You need to be able to fight back if you have to, and your laser sword will give you away." Eyes squinted as he looked hard at her. "You ever use a blaster before, Whitey?"
