What in my past work would give you that idea, @jcgoble3 ? And here are your updates for the day. This is the deleted scene, also known as "The Old Man from Scene 24". Not. Adding @Trieste Two Weeks Later This was the day. This was the day that she was getting married. Again. Me’lin stood in the back room of the main ceremonial hall at the palace, decked out in a fine white wedding gown that was perfectly suited for her body. The dress itself was superb in every aspect; it was super-soft to the touch, yet had the firmness and texture that made it so comfortable to wear. The lace that adorned it was also satin white in color, and curled around nicely in a fancy pattern. She didn’t know what the pattern symbolized, but it was obviously something important, so she didn’t bother to ask. It had been two years since she had last been in this position. Two years prior, she and Gark had gotten married back on Coruscant, back when she thought he was the right man for her. And she had believed that up until recently. He had been at fault for ignoring her, for making her feel unwanted, for everything she had tried to now escape from. The only thing that resonated with her now was Galin; yes, Gark had given her a son to look after, but she was now, at least for the present moment, a single mother, walking into a new relationship that would hopefully last for eternity. Allo Daraza was a good man; he had taken her under his wing when she needed someone to hold onto, and then she had been there two weeks earlier when he had needed the same support after his wife had died. They seemed like a perfect fit for each other, even more perfect than Gark had been when she had once loved him. The Bothan had been good, and he had been rich . . . but was that a criteria point? She had never been interested in marrying into wealth; her marriage to Gark was not over money, or fame, or power. It had been a mistaken decision based on what she thought at the time was love. But now it had just been a hollow dream, something that she had been steered along with in the wrong fashion and now forced to push behind her as she aimed to move forward. One of the workers at the palace, not really called a “servant” because they were technically salaried positions, came in. “It’s showtime,” he said. Me’lin just swallowed. She was really going to go through with this. It was what she wanted, to find a man who really cared for her. But it felt odd, in a way, to be wed under these circumstances. This is where Gark hadn’t been able to match it; he had just been a businessman, a friend. Allo, despite also being a businessman and a friend, was royalty. Even though it was the last thing on her mind on a day where she hoped to find true happiness with Allo, Me’lin knew that she was walking into a new situation, one where she would garner much respect as a royal family member-to-be. Gark hadn’t been able to give her the respect she craved from him, and that had cost him in the long run. Allo could promise her that respect, so she saw nothing wrong with going forward on this. She would, by the end of the day, have everything she could ever want and more. The Twi’lek could then feel a hand on her shoulder, and she looked into the old, tired eyes of the king. The old man was still smiling, though, so she smiled back. “Allo found a beautiful woman in you,” he remarked. “Thank you,” Me’lin replied. “You remind me of my wife,” the man said. “When I married her, we were much younger, so the energy was there. But she was also a radiant beauty like I could never have dreamed of. And I know I made the right decision, even though it wasn’t exactly my call to make. But Allo has been given this chance, and despite my weariness and old age, I know he made the right decision as I did many years ago. You will do this kingdom proud one day.” “Thank you,” Me’lin then said. The king took her hand and held it in his own. Me’lin felt a little odd touching his old wrinkled skin, but she knew that his hand carried with it a lot of pull in the kingdom that was in place here on Trimfi. “And now to meet your destiny,” the king said. “Come.” The music began to play in the main hall, and both of them went forward through the doors to the back room and then into the hall. The place was crawling with people, most of them nobles and businessmen, but also some commoners who had somehow been able to get into the palace to see the wedding take place. This was big news on the planet, because it had been several years since the last royal wedding. Oddly enough, that had been Allo and Lady Daraza’s wedding, but since she had now passed, it was Allo’s turn once again to find true love. Me’lin was unsure of exactly what the people thought of her as she passed by; most, if not all of them, were human, and she wasn’t. But they couldn’t deny her beauty, and that was probably what made them ease off criticism of her and of Allo for choosing this route. Up at the front were Allo, dressed in his fine dress uniform of the army of Trimfi, the well-kept groomsmen, who were also wearing army dress uniforms, and then the bridesmaids, who wore sparkling white dresses to match Me’lin’s. The king led the Twi’lek up to the front altar and then walked away to his place next to the Queen on the far side of the formation. Then the music stopped, and there was a pause of a few seconds. Then the chaplain came forward. “Mawwiage!” he said. “Wuv is what bwings us together!” Both Allo and Me’lin gave him odd looks, and the chaplain then cleared his throat. “I am sorry for that,” he said apologetically. “I needed to clear my throat. Let me start over. Love is what brings us together today. We are here to witness to marriage of Crown Prince Allo Daraza, of the House of Creda, son of the King of Trimfi, to the dashing Princess Me’lin, today. These two are set to become Lord and Lady of the House of Creda, and someday the new rulers of Trimfi. But that is for another day. Today, we are here to witness the union of these two for all eternity, under the laws of the royal house of Trimfi, as members of the royal family.” The ceremony continued, and then came the rings. Me’lin noticed that Allo hadn’t replaced his old one, but she paid it no mind. It wasn’t about him, anyways. It was about her, and what she brought to the table for the people of Trimfi. Allo picked up her left hand daintily and then placed a huge ring on her finger, where the one she had received from Gark had once resided. But this one made her old one pale in comparison; there was simply no way to describe its beauty. It was a nice shade of blue, with several small diamonds encrusted in it. It was a ring befitting of a high-ranking royal family member, and she was now its proud owner. She looked into the eyes of Allo, who gazed back at her. There was something about him that she loved more than anything, but that trait she could not pin down. But it didn’t matter, because she loved him more than she ever thought she could a man. This was a new beginning for her life.” “Do you, Princess, take this man, Prince Allo, of the House of Creda, and the son of the King, as your lawfully wedded husband?” This was her last chance to back out. Allo was obviously going to agree, so it was all on her. She could walk out after all this. But why? Why should she walk away when she had such a man, such a keeper, right in front of her? There would be no walking away now. This was her soulmate, and she wasn’t going to leave him now. “I do,” she said. “And Prince Allo, of the House of Creda, and the son of the King, do you take the Princess as your lawfully wedded wife, to be yours forever and to someday be the next Queen of this land?” “I do,” Allo said, beaming. “I now pronounce you married. You may kiss the bride,” the chaplain said. “I love you,” Allo said. The two of them kissed for all to see, and the cheers in the hall echoed loudly as the people yelled out their congratulations. It was truly a good time for the kingdom. “I now introduce to you the new Lady Daraza!” Allo said to the gathered crowd down below. He stepped aside on the balcony so that Me’lin could walk forward, in her new green robes that flowed around her body flawlessly. The people down below cheered for the new lady of the house, who they knew would someday be their Queen. “As a member of the royal family, she is to be given as much respect as any other royal,” Allo continued. “Do not look upon her with any kind of scorn. Instead, look upon her as the face of new direction in the kingdom. The two of us will be your future, and I would hate to miss it.” More cheers came from the crowd. When the introduction was over, Allo looked at his new wife. “So, are you happy to now be a member of the royal family?” he asked. “It’s . . . different,” Me’lin replied. “Something I’ve never experienced before.” “I am sure you will enjoy it,” Allo said, grinning. “But first, we must eat. Come.” He then stuck out his hand, and Me’lin took it in hers. They then walked towards the dining hall, but were intercepted by an assistant. “You have some business offers, my Lord,” he said. “I see,” Allo replied. “Go on, darling. I’ll catch up to you after I’ve finished these matters.” Me’lin kept on going, and when she was out of earshot the Prince leaned over to his assistant. “What matters?” he asked. “The team, sire,” the assistant replied. Ah, the Senators, Allo thought to himself. What a way to really stick it to Gark to sell it from under his nose now that he was in no position to do anything about it. “What offers have you received?” “1.5 billion, from an investing group, 2 billion from a private individual, 2 billion again from another group . . .” “No, I must have more,” the Prince said. “Try to get me higher offers.” “My Lord, we can’t hike up the price that much . . .” “Raise it!” Allo said, agitated. “It shall be done,” the assistant said, his head bowed slightly. “Any news on my last acquisition?” “Profits are up due to new management. We’ve cleaned house on their staff, so we have our own people in there now.” “Good. I expect that such an operation will be profitable in the long run, yes?” “Yes, my Lord.” “Very well, then. We may now move on to the next phase of the plan.” And, by the same token, here is your actual story for the day. Adding @Admiral Volshe and @epithree Me’lin awoke, her eyes struggling to get used to the dark interior of the cellar as she tried to get out of her sleep cycle. Galin was still asleep on his towel “blanket”, the youngster obviously trying to get as much rest as he could given the events the previous night. Gark was over by the shelving unit, using a disposable towel to clean off the blaster pistol and power pack that had been lying there previously. “Morning,” she said quietly. “Morning,” Gark replied, not even looking at his wife as he kept on cleaning. “This pistol is gunky as all get out, but hopefully I’ll get it to work.” “You think we’ll need it?” “I don’t know, but my instincts tell me to be prepared, just in case,” Gark said. The towel didn’t seem to be working as effectively as he hoped, so he finally used his suit jacket to clean off a troublesome spot on the carbine. Both of them were still dressed in their fancy outfits from the restaurant the night before, as they had left all of their travel possessions back in their hotel room. However, with no guarantee of getting back there to grab their stuff or to plan their next move, they both knew that they were stuck in these for the foreseeable future. Gark didn’t really mind too badly despite hating suits, but Me’lin would have to contend with the high heels the entire time. That wasn’t going to be good. Gark then placed the blaster down on the shelving unit and went up the stairs to peek outside. He did so, and took a long look around. The street seemed deserted; it was quite a haunting sight. What the hell was going on? He then closed the cellar door and came back down. “There’s no one outside that I can see,” he commented. “This might be our best chance to get out of here.” “But where do we go from here?” Me’lin asked. “I don’t think it’s safe to return to the room, so we may be stuck down here for a while.” “I’m just afraid that whoever owns this cellar might come down and find us,” Gark said. “We are intruding in someone else’s space.” “Do we have a choice, though?” his wife asked. Gark thought this over for a moment. She had a point; they were indeed trespassing, but what else could they do in this situation? Besides, they weren’t involved in the coup. What would an owner not involved in this whole mess do to them if they were caught down here? Besides, Gark knew he could take out most anyone before they could raise too much of a fuss. It wouldn’t be the preferable option to use force, but if the situation became necessary that they needed to stay here, then it would be employed. “I still think we need to get back to the room,” Gark said after this deliberation period. “What for?” “Because I can’t stand this suit,” Gark replied. “It restricts my movement too much, and given that we have no idea what we’re up against, I think it would be prudent of us to be properly dressed for combat.” “But is it worth going to all the trouble to get back there?” the Twi’lek asked. “I don’t know if we have much choice,” Gark replied. “Besides, we have some important items in our bags. We need to retrieve those so that we can plan our next move. I’d like to know exactly what’s going on, and what we can do about it.” “Are you suggesting that we take down the leaders of a coup?” Me’lin asked. “Not if there is a better solution, but if we have to go through them to get out of here, then we may have no choice in the matter,” Gark said. At this time, Galin decided to wake up. He obviously loved the paper “blanket” that he was sitting on, even though the towels weren’t exactly the softest things around. It was probably the novelty of it all that he was enjoying, rather than the towels themselves. Of course, couldn’t he just snuggle up in a blanket back at home and feel more comfortable? This cellar was nothing like home; it felt like a bomb shelter in comparison, and oddly enough, that was in the same vein what they were using it for at the moment. He then rolled onto his back, staring at the cellar’s ceiling with wide eyes. It must be nice, Gark thought, to not have to worry about a thing like that, to be able to look beyond the bigger picture and just marvel at what surrounded you. It was a sense of appreciation that he had never quite understood; perhaps Galin knew something he didn’t, and had a much sunnier disposition to work with. “I wish I had his attitude,” Gark commented. “It would make things a lot simpler, wouldn’t it?” “Exactly,” Gark replied. “I still think we need to get back to the room.” “And what if there’s something major going on that we don’t know about?” Me’lin asked. “I’d rather stay here than get back out there if there are major fights going on in the streets.” “Sounds clear out there,” Gark replied. “This may be our chance.” The three of them finally left the cellar and began to slink through the streets. Gark, holding the blaster at the ready, made sure to check for any soldiers or armed thugs in the streets before going through. It took about fifteen minutes, but they finally reached the hotel. The front door was locked, but Gark was able to smash his way in, knowing that the noise could startle someone and give off their position. This whole plan was operating on the idea that they were not being hunted here; obviously this was a problem for Trimfi, not them, this time around, and they were just caught up in it along with all of the nation’s citizens. Gark located the stairwell as he ran through the lobby. No one was here, even though the lights were still on like it was business as usual. Me’lin tried to keep up, her heels clacking on the floor loudly. Gark hit the stairwell and opened the door; obviously the stairs weren’t used that often, but they had no choice. The lift would be too risky; they would have to sneak up the back way. They climbed and climbed up to the sixth floor of the hotel, at which Gark put his back against the wall and took a peek out the window onto the sixth floor landing. There weren’t any hostile operatives here as far as he could tell, so he opened the door and slipped out onto the landing. The three of them got to their room, and Gark quickly opened the door so that they could slip inside. “Quickly,” he said. “There’s no telling if we’ve been seen or not.” He popped open his suitcase and replaced his suit attire with a much more comfortable t-shirt, jeans, and sneakers. He also slapped a utility belt underneath his shirt, and placed the blaster pistol in the side holster. Me’lin changed from her dress and heels into similar attire to Gark, and then both of them locked their dress clothes in the cases. Gark then went into the ‘fresher and washed his face off quickly. The splash of cool water on his skin felt nice, but unfortunately the gravity of the situation was too much for him to really enjoy the moment. This might be his last chance to get cleaned up before things got hectic; he had no idea what he and his wife were up against, and what they could do about it. Then he heard a hard pounding on the door, which caused him to slowly turn off the faucet. Who was trying to get their attention? A gruff voice came from outside. “We know you’re in there. Come out with your hands up.” Gark left the ‘fresher and looked at Me’lin; she was trying to back Galin into a corner in case things got messy. The Bothan had a plan, but it would need the correct timing. If something was to go wrong, they might be captured . . . or worse. “Open up!” came the voice. Gark went to the door and unlatched it, then throwing it open as he jumped out of the line of sight and landed on the small counter next to the coffee machine. Two blaster-toting thugs now entered the room, serious looks on their faces. “Come out, you rats!” the first one shouted into the apparently-empty room. “You think they jumped?” the other one asked. “Nah, they’re here,” the first one said. “And we’ll get ‘em.” But before the other thug could do anything, Gark pushed the door back into the face of the back-end thug, bowling him over onto the floor outside the room. Gark, now exposed to the other thug, launched himself at the man’s chest, knocking him over with a solid hit to the gut. The trooper’s head fell onto one of the tiles in the ‘fresher, causing his mouth to start to bleed. But the man wasn’t finished; he brought his blaster to bear, and then the other thug came up and clipped Gark’s heels. The Bothan fell to the ground on his face, and then the other thug pinned his legs down to the carpet. “You thought you could outwit us, didn’t you?” the first thug asked with a malevolent grin on his face. “Well, it seems that you failed.” Gark tried to wriggle free, but his legs were being trapped here, and he couldn’t escape. There was no way he was going to be able to reach his newfound blaster pistol, which was stuck on his utility belt that was now being jammed into his side as he lay face-side down. The first thug brought his blaster down to shoot Gark, or so the Bothan figured, before one of Galin’s random babbling sounds came from around the corner. Gark didn’t like that; his son had been ratted out from his hiding spot around the corner of the wall. Both thugs moved up slightly, giving Gark enough time to move. He reached down for his blaster and then scooted it across the carpet. Me’lin dove out from the corner of the wall, picked up the blaster pistol, and then shot both thugs dead on the spot as they tried to stop Gark. The bodies of the two men fell onto the floor, the second one pinning Gark’s body once again. “Not bad,” Gark commented. “Someone will have heard that,” Me’lin said. “Then we need to move quickly,” Gark said. He pushed the dead thug off him and jumped back to his feet. They still hurt a little from being pinned, but the adrenaline was flowing now, so the pain had all but disappeared. Some shots were heard in the distance, and Gark got down near the floor, as did Me’lin. “What was that?” the Twi’lek asked. “I don’t know,” Gark replied. Both of them hurried to the window and peered out. In the distance, they could see some smoke rising from a large building that they later identified as the planet’s Senate chambers from a tourist pamphlet. Whatever was going down out there, it wasn’t good. “It looks like our work just got cut out for us,” Gark continued. As the three of them left the hotel, they were greeted rudely by some more soldiers who had heard the sound of blaster fire earlier and had come to investigate. Gark beat them back with ease, but knew that there had to be more troops nearby. They were running out of time.