The Courtship of Princess Palpatine - Game Is Closed!

Flint

The entire glade was aflame.



Belderone had long been an agricultural world, targeted by the Empire for that self-same reason, who had then built AT-AT factories, even a minor Stormtrooper training academy.

Flint remembered when he had been a simple Stormtrooper.

Before his Force sensitivity was discovered.

Before Vader.

Though the Rule of Two forbade Lord Vader from taking an apprentice, it didn't prevent him from having candidates, and shadow apprentices.

Much as Darth Tyranus had with Ventress, Savage and Quinlan Vos, so too had Vader considered a variety of others.

Among them Flint.

And so he became a Sith.

After Endor, he wept at the foot of his masters statue, only to discover that he was not the only candidate.

Indeed, he was merely third choice.

The first spot had always belonged to Luke Skywalker, eyed up by not just Vader but even by Emperor Palpatine as the new official apprentice.

And second place?

That had been given to her.

They duelled, Sith against Sith, for the right to be Master, and apprentice.

He lost.

Then, shortly after, while campaigning, he was defeated.

Redeemed, even, by Luke.

Years ago, now.

Inevitably, Flint had known she'd come for him.

The flames parted, and she stepped through.



Lumiya.

He removed his hand from his side, ignored the blood on his palm, and stood tall.

Strong.

She ignited her lightwhip and cut him down.

Satisfied, she paid attention to her comlink, quietly, insistently, seeking her attention.

A quick of her eyebrows, surprise evident even through her mask, had there been any witnesses.

Colla.

A pseudonym, using her true name?

Curious.

Lumiya hadn't thought of Shira Elan Colle Brie for many years.

And now here it was.

Apparently present at a meeting to decide who would be Emperor Consort.

Unacceptable.

Checking Flint was indeed dead, she turned to go.

TAG: No One

TAG: @CosmoHender, @darthbernael, @Silvertough, @Mitth_Fisto, @HanSolo29, @Lady_Belligerent

 

Re: Subject Zero

The project to combine the DNA of known Jedi and Sith sources with that of the late Emperor Palpatine has gone finally generated its first batch of viable subjects. While the loss of the source of the M-cell blood was a setback, it hasn't prevented us from using the remainder resources we have to generate eight clones. Recommend keeping them separate for the meantime, until we can ascertain their control of the Force. But do keep in mind that the return of Subject Zero to the Hand would make the risks considerably lower.

Yours,
Dr Gray

The reader of the datapad mused.

He had been indisposed for a time, but it was useful to know that the project continued.

Dr Gray and his team of similarly anonymously named scientists had been working with a single Spaarti cloning cylinder for some time.

Similar to the later Project Necromancer, this experiment required M-cell blood to progress, and fortunately the reader had secured one some years ago.

He placed the datapad on the desk, and began to wonder if he should act.

If he would be exposing himself.

The galaxy was still in the chaos of the Empire's collapse after the final death of the Emperor, with a dozen factions pulling it down, some obviously, like the warlords in the Deep Core, and some less so, such as Fleet Admiral Rax, withdrawing assets quietly to distant Jakku.

Could he risk pursuing Subject Zero now?

Would the other Imperials notice?

What of NRI? They likely had a stake in the Courtship.

Would the Far Outsiders notice?

No.

For now he would wait.

For now.



TAG: No One

TAG: @CosmoHender, @darthbernael, @Silvertough, @Mitth_Fisto, @HanSolo29, @Lady_Belligerent

 

Mega-combo with our esteemed GM Sinre as Mas Amedda, Cosmo as Sieg, Bernael as Sinclair, Mitth as K’zk, and myself as Sybelle “Ederlatth”. Thanks, guys!

IC: Mas Amedda, Sinclair Eldar, K'zk Vrai, Sieg Dren, and Sybelle “Ederlatth”
palace east wing, Naboo

The time spent in the assigned room, after the first meeting, was short. Possibly, Sinclair was beginning to believe, because whoever was orchestrating this was attempting to keep the suitors off-balance. He’d only had time to lightly sip from the drink he’d chosen before a pair of events had happened, the first was that he received a message and the second was yet another pair of droids coming to bring both himself and the man called Sieg to this gathering.

Following the droid, Sinclair read the message he’d received. After many years on the battlefield he’d learned many ways to school his features without revealing any emotion or what thoughts would be racing through his head. This time too, he found that skill useful, as he read the identity of the one who had sent it. Closing the message, he returned the datapad to its pouch on his armor.

With a calm expression on his face, the scar twitching slightly being the only exception, he returned his attention to the route they were taking. As he let his eyes rove the corridor his mind was embroiled. ’If the Mand’alor didn’t know how he was invited then who did and why him?’ he wondered. That suggested that whoever had sent it did either desired to give the Mandalorians an opportunity to expand their influence or that they wanted to expose them to further attacks against their worlds and culture.

He was still pondering when he was ushered into the room, the droid leaving him there. As he entered he looked around to see who else had been brought to this spot. Once again it was the scar alone that would give the others any evidence of his thoughts, the rest of his features still. ’Hmmm, almost the same group as before, I see…’ his mind mused.

He saw the Princess already seated, saw the table, and how her position had her facing the door. She was in the most defensible position of the room as well as the most dominating position at the table, which caused the corner of his lip to twitch upwards for a moment.

Still looking around, he noticed the Chagrian, who had an expression on his face that made Sinclair wonder, wondering what it was that had that being thinking. He glanced over at Sieg once more, remembering their own earlier encounter. Which drew his attention back to the Princess, the Imperials that had taken the pale, bald man wouldn’t have been allowed in the complex without her or her handlers permission.

He’d stopped, after he’d entered the room, having taken two steps to the left of the door, as he observed the room. That none of the others had taken any steps toward the table caused his lips to twitch once again. Stepping forward, he stopped at the table, gauntlets crossed over the back of the chair before him. The chair he’d chosen was at the foot of the table, one of the two seats relatively opposite the Princess. Which left one between the two of them on his right hand side and two between them on his left hand side.

He’d chosen the spot for a pair of reasons, to see who thought themselves so important that they needed to sit just beside the Princess and…because in the clans, in the Mandalorian Council, the Warleader sat opposite the chief or Mand’alor, so both commanded the room. He turned his attention to the Princess, nodding his head in respect. “I must apologize, I have not yet thanked you for your invitation to this gathering, Princess.” he said in a calm tone.

Slowly glancing up, Sybelle nodded once before she spoke. “While I appreciate the gesture, you’d have to direct that gratitude to the person who submitted your application.” She folded her hands in her lap before continuing, “thousands of beings sent in candidates the moment they knew I was to be betrothed.”

Her eyes were sad, because it was sad that Ederlatth would marry someone who was only interested in a title. Or maybe Sybelle was still bristling over Ederlatth telling her to leave Aryan to her. I think not, Princess.

“It was impossible to read all of them, so we chose all of you blindly. My assistant simply pulled each one at random,” she gave a small smile, “it was the best solution.”

Sybelle stood, smoothed her skirts and slowly stepped over to the side table. She studied the carafes of wine for a moment, the youngest suitor was in the other group, so alcohol would be welcome. She selected two and carried them back to the table.

Her own drink was separate from what the guests would be drinking, they couldn’t be too careful, of course.

Waiting near the entrance K'zk had hoped that there would be some sign of acknowledgment, but then again - what was a warning really worth? Surviving an assassination attempt? These things did not improve his currents in this situation, so be it. Mas was similarly here and by the lack of fear, K'zk was led to consider that he had not told any others. What had he done? Planned?

Perhaps his esteem would rise like the tides later if his plans like nets caught the fish he had hope they would. Blinking his second set of eyelids he gracefully walked toward the refreshment table and taking a plate he loaded some local foods upon it before moving to pour a glass of white wine. Returning to the table he settled down next to the Mandalorian on his right side. The most dangerous position possible at the table. Raising one hand languidly he pushed it out toward the table, not pointing at anyone before it moved in and out to the side as he spoke, "Forced and political betrothals I understand are such. Not for love, not for attraction, but about needs - power." With that he drew his hand back and studied his plate with another slow blink of his eyes.

Sieg was not thinking about the message he received. After all, it was far too vague for it to be something to be worried about. Instead, Sieg's attention was immediately drawn to the spread of food and drink that had been prepared.

Free food and free drink? How could be pass up on that?

After covering his plate with food and filling his cup with wine, Sieg took his seat at the table. He chose the chair that was to the left of Sinclair, directly next to the Mandalorian, who Sieg saw as the most interesting person in the room, even more interesting than the Princess. As Sieg sat, he glanced at Sinclair and acknowledged the Mandalorian with a nod.

Mas Amedda adopted a wan smile and smirked at K'zk. "Power, yes."

He swept forward to the table. "But is it not the power we can offer you, Princess?"

The Chagrian placed a hand on his chest. "I represent the Empire. Coruscant, Kuat, Fondor - and half of Known Space."

"I can offer more than an armour junkie, a fish trader and a..." He looked at Sieg. "A waif or a stray?"

Sinclair smiled slowly at the response from the Princess, which explained better why he’d been one of those invited. When she returned with the bottles, he waved a hand to indicate that he was not that much of a drinker.

He noticed the nod from Seig, nodding in return, the conversation they’d had returning to his mind. Taking the carafe the Princess had brought to the table that was closer to where he sat, he slid it over to Seig.

The aquatic being that was part of the crowd had sat down as well, beside him. Which was interesting as he’d pegged that one as more subtle and withdrawn. Thinking about what that one had said caused him to think, as Mandalorian marriages were about the strength of the clan as much as it was about love. So marriages of power were easy to understand.

Just as he was about to respond, to agree, the chagrian spoke, blustering and spouting lines that Sinclair had expected. His head tracked around to face the man. “You remind me of an old study that was done, where scientists parsed an entire speech given by a politician such as you, to see what they actually said, only to find two hours of dead air when they’d removed all the fluff.” His lips twitched in a slight smile, the scar on his face rippling, “And fluff is all you have after your sponsor died, you are nothing more than a figurehead.”

Beautiful. It would be considered an insult that anyone participate in a urination contest during an audience with the Princess, informal or not.

“Enough,” she said, sounding bored. “We are here for one purpose, and hurling insults is a bad look for anyone who considers themself a candidate for Emperor.” She smoothed her skirts and considered her next comments carefully.

“My future husband cannot be overly arrogant, and I expect him to act with proper decorum at all times.”

Her expression was serious, if not slightly pained. “Surely you can appreciate the great burden I must shoulder?” She sighed, “I will carry out my duties, as I was trained from birth to do what is necessary, and with that, we get back to the purpose for this gathering.”

Glancing around the table, her eyes settled on one she was curious about. “K'zk, forgive me, but I’m not overly familiar with your species. Do you share similar anatomy… down there, as a human male? For the purpose of procreation, of course.”

K’zk was surprised. Sitting back straighter from the plate he had just taken a bite from. Slowly he swallowed as he gently set down his fork, not at the Mandalorian bickering or Mas’ pontificating, but at the question the Princess of all people had form during an open meal. He had expected a private discussion or for her to have consulted with medical professionals on such things. His hands flowed on invisible currents as he repeated the refrain of “Well, ah-well…hmmm.” Before with a hard blink he looked at the human males present before looking at the Princess.

“I’m unsure. My kind keep such parts retracted behind a, well until needed.” He did a small wave between them before looking again T the Mando. “I’ve only seen stripped prisoners and corpses, the living complain of cold before covering? Dead do not inspire scrutiny. So…” hands waving he looked for inspiration before settling with a mouth smack on his hand with a blink.

“They. With ridge by knuckle.” He brought his right hand up with thumb raised, left struck just below the base of thumb and swished up like a wave meeting the shore toward the open end. “Mine, similar, but some ripples not ridge…” here he turned his hand sideways and chopped at his wrist and waved along his hand to his finger tips.

“As to make a child of us, I do not know. I expected if not and you chose me, a second might be chosen to supply an heir for high standing, preference, and knowing their genes would continue the line. I expect we would have power, we would have pleasure, but another may be added for offspring.”

After helping himself to some food and drink, Sieg cleared his throat.

"Pardon the interruption," he said while turning to Mas Amedda and smiling at him. "But I wanted to address what our blue-skinned friend said earlier. What was it he called me?" He chuckled. "Ah yes. A waif or a stray." He shook his head. "Pardon me, but I just such ignorance to be very amusing." He lifted up his fork, pointing it at Amedda. "I knew your former boss, you know." He looked around the room to gauge everyone's reactions. "I knew the late Emperor. Did him a favor once, in fact."

Mas was about to respond to being insulted by the Mandalorian and was sidetracked by the segue. He was still busy blinking his way through Ederlathh’s comment as to biology, and was promptly drawn from his stupor to address Sieg, who had apparently focused on the food, which was probably for the best to prevent recursion of the same.
Th
“My Emperor would have very little to do with a child, unless…” his eyes lidded slightly.

Was that the Force that stirred?

His lapse was covered by a rap at the door and the swift entry of Grand Admiral Rae Sloane, who bowed deeply. “A thousand apologies, Princess.” She stood upright, eyes flicking to K’zk and Sinclair. “I had expected the non-Imperial options to be off the menu, so to speak.” She beetled her brow, but spoke firmly. “My apologies, again, your Highness, but I must tender terrible tidings; I have been recalled to stymie a Rebel offensive in the Bormea Sector, and I would not want to weaken the stability of your regime while here.”

This time she looked at Mas, who paled, ever so slightly. “If I may take my leave?” This time she stopped in front of Sybelle, dropped to her knee, and sought her hand with her own.

To kiss, of course; a sign of respect.

Sybelle allowed the woman to kiss her hand.

“Your devotion to peace does not go unnoticed, Grand Admiral. You are dismissed,” Sybelle said.

This was a curious development, as were Rae Sloane’s comments about non-Imperial options. This would be included in her report to Ederlathh, but she needed to get the discussion back under control before the males stooped to hurling insults again.

“I’m sure we would all like to hear your tale, Sieg, but I hope you’ll hold that thought while I back up a moment.”

Sybelle looked to K’zk and said, “Your anatomy details are most helpful, and I’m pleased that we need not be concerned over matters such as propagation. That is something easily solved since you expressed that you are agreeable.”

That brought her to turn her gaze to Mas Amedda. “Let’s discuss your physiology, Mas Amedda,” Sybelle said, brow raised in anticipation of his discomfort. “I am slightly more informed on your reproductive system, and I believe we would be unable to have sexual relations, making a paramour necessary,” she said thoughtfully. “I would need to know if that is an issue, if you were Emperor?”

Mas spluttered, looked to Sinclair for support. "I would be agreeable to you having a Consort, if I was Emperor, of course."

He didn't feel like he could look to Sieg, what with his age.

But nor could he hope for K'zk to work with him if neither of them could create a heir.

By the time the Chagrian turned to glance at him Slnclair had regained his composure. The irony of the Princess dressing them down for the tension and then basically asking the fish man about his…member…wasn’t lost on him. He was simply glad that he’d not taken a drink as he’d needed to take several deep breaths, listening as that one responded, to calm himself.

Sieg’s comments had drawn his attention, given the content of what he’d said. It seemed to imply that the man had been close to the Galactic Emperor, close enough that he knew that being to some personal degree. He wondered at that. But the Princess, once again regained control of the conversation, turning on the Chagrian to ask him something similar to what she’d asked previously.

A small smile that didn’t reach his eyes was on his face as he met Mas Amedda’s glance. “Let us just say that Mandalorian customs are a little different.” he stated, in a somewhat flat tone, a slight concern at what had felt like a chill in the air that had come from the man he’d begun to consider an acquaintance.

K'zk sat back and began to rather enjoy his meal. Gently popping small bite sized pieces into his mouth and savoring them. Chasing them periodically with small sips of wine, every few sips of which he would pause to savour the aroma and flavor a little bit more. The anatomy questions no longer bothered him as he wasn't the focus of them, and neither did the chest thumping or whatever it was they were doing now pass by. Time would tell whether that Imperial Admirals words held weight. Perhaps this was just the jewels in the muck category that was being weighed to find if there was anything worth keeping before they were all tossed out, kept for ransom, or summarily executed.

“Do you mean to say that you would have an issue with me taking lovers?” Sybelle asked Sinclair. “Surely you must understand that you would abandon your customs if you were selected. The person I marry will adopt my culture,” she said firmly. “If I decide it, you will no longer consider yourself a Mandalorian, those past ties will be severed for anyone I choose.

“Sieg,” she addressed the young man, “tell me what the favor was that you did for the late Emperor.”

Sybelle had enjoyed watching Mas Amedda squirm, he’s such a prude. K’zk managed to answer, maybe he was slightly taken aback, but his recovery and reply was admirable. An Emperor must be able to answer difficult questions under pressure without appearing agitated.

Sieg resisted the urge to chuckle at Sybelle's comments about Mas Amedda's physiology. When he heard Sybelle address him, he turned to the woman and smiled.

"Ah yes," he said. "The late Emperor. First, you should know of my family. I was born to the Drens. Have you heard of the Quintad? The Drens are one of the five ruling families of Eriadu. They have a long history, dating back to the original settlers of the planet. Of course, I am currently... estranged from the rest of my family, though I am still entitled to the Dren family name should I choose."

He paused briefly, thinking about his family name before he continued. "Anyway, I left Eriadu sixteen years ago and struck off on my own, trying to make a name for myself without having to rely on my family's identity. And I... succeeded. I met new people and created new connections. It was through these connections that I met the late Emperor... and secured an invitation to this courting. As for the favor... I helped him out when a criminal syndicate was giving him an unusual amount of trouble. What was the name of that syndicate...?"

He paused again for a moment before smiling again. "Hmm, the name seems to have escaped me. Though the Emperor has had so many enemies over the years, it can be so easy to get them confused." He looked back at Mas Amedda. "Perhaps you know what I am speaking of..."

Sinclair’s mind was awash with what the Princess had asked when Sieg replied to her question to that man. He listened and, as he did, his eyes narrowed slightly, as he pondered the specifics of what Sieg had said. There were a couple events that he could have been referencing but that Sieg included the Chagrian in the comment made him wonder, with a slight unease, as to what Sieg meant.

He sat back, the chair creaking slightly, as he continued to ponder the Princess’s comment to him. Sighing, stroking his chin, he looked up, with a small nod. “I find it interesting how you put that, Princess. Underlying your statement is the unspoken question of how political such a union between yourself and whoever becomes your spouse will be. If it is simply to be a personal joining it still has its implications. The Imperials among the suitors,” he glanced at Amedda, “would have little to ‘abandon’ if you chose one of them. However, those of us who are not represent our people as much as just ourselves.”

Thinking back to the message he’d received from the Mand’alor, he shook his head. “It stands to reason that any of us of non-Imperial ties are as much representing our entire culture as ourselves and that any ties that happen would also include our society becoming a part of the Empire that you rule as Empress. Which means requiring that whoever becomes your spouse, as a non-Imperial, give up that culture would make that spouse be seen by that culture as a traitor to their culture and the use of having chosen them, to increase your polity, would then become moot as their people would have no reason to remain a part of it. Is that your intention?”

Ederlatth suddenly grew solemn, she stood and tilted her chin so that she looked down on those sitting. “You insult me, Sinclair,” her voice was now regal, gone was the charismatic hostess. “This process is for me to ask questions, and you are being judged not just on the answer, but on your reactions and body language.”

She leaned in slightly before continuing, “maybe you aren’t aware of protocols, so I shall explain it, I am not to be questioned. I hold the highest rank here, and your overly verbose answer, posed as a question directed to me, says that you are only here to gain power for your own political gains. I find that insulting.”

Her eyes then switched to Sieg, “forgetfulness is not an acceptable trait for an Emperor to possess. I do not mean that as condescending, it’s simply a fact that must be considered.”

Shaking her head slowly, she began to circle the table while speaking, “It did not matter to me if K’zk and a human could procreate, I simply asked an awkward question to witness his reactions. As Emperor, one will face all manners of people that often are blunt and ask uncomfortable things. I need to know the future Emperor can handle himself with grace and dignity in all situations.

Mas Amedda was beginning to feel himself uncomfortable, and drew the topic back to that Sieg had raised. "I know the organisation you speak of, and appreciate your candor, kind sir." He attempted to mollify the Princess on Sieg's behalf. "Ma'am, one would not want all the Empire's secrets passed to your suitors, after all."

He twisted his lips slightly, reappraising. "Might I suggest myself as Emperor, you as Empress, and Sir Dren here as your procreator. That would unify three of the more powerful groupings in the galaxy together, no?"

Coruscant, Naboo, Eriadu. A dynasty.

His tone was light. "I would merely point out that you were rather estranged from the Empire of late, and indeed missing for, what was it, three, four years?" He demurred. "While I as Grand Vizier have a clear and unpalatably legal claim to the Throne. We are merely strengthening each other's positions..."

The wily old Chagrian knew that Dren would have issue with that. "I believe the position that Lord Vader once held would be available, no? Executor of the Imperial forces?" His eyes took in the boy. "Lord Dren?"

He referred to the title formally bestowed upon Luke Skywalker during his brief time as Palpatine's apprentice, and then subsequently given to a trio of lesser Dark Jedi who were relatively unimportant. But had Palpatine died and Vader lived, most would have followed the position...

He was cutting K'zk and Sinclair out of this - making an artful political move.

Sieg gave a small smile of amusement. He could sense that he had made Amedda uncomfortable and he knew that it was because Amedda at the very least had a good idea of who he really was.

He chuckled playfully. "Executor of the Imperial forces and the title of Lord? My, you are feeling generous." While he actually hadn't been expecting this, he knew this was an opportunity he could take advantage of. "But you definitely have my interest..."

He gestured to the Princess. "Though the question is if the Princess is interested or not." He smiled at her.

Sieg gave a small smile of amusement. He could sense that he had made Amedda uncomfortable and he knew that it was because Amedda at the very least had a good idea of who he really was.

He chuckled playfully. "Executor of the Imperial forces and the title of Lord? My, you are feeling generous." While he actually hadn't been expecting this, he knew this was an opportunity he could take advantage of. "But you definitely have my interest..."

He gestured to the Princess. "Though the question is if the Princess is interested or not." He smiled at her.

Sinclair had sat through the Princess’s quite vehement response to him without having moved a muscle. The passivity of his face was as much a sign as if he’d let emotion wash over it, a sign that the warrior was holding his own thoughts close. When she finished, accusing the warrior of attempted politics when he merely meant exactly what he’d said, what she’d offered had been nothing more than subsuming one’s self to be nothing of what you were simply for the privilege of being her lapdog.

His palms were laid on the table, about to rise, to excuse himself from the gathering as he had no desire to continue a conversation where the subject was the only one allowed to know anything about those being interviewed, where the answers were turned back against the one responding, where it was truly…abnormal politics.

However, the former Chancellor took that opportunity to speak. Settling back in his seat he listened, with a fractional smile. That the Chagrian had decided to cut both himself and the fishman out and focus solely on Sieg as his aide as it were was another interesting datum that others might be interested to know. Staying silent he listened as Amedda spoke before Sieg decided to reply, going along with what had been proposed. His eyes were hooded as his gaze turned on the Princess, all potential trust or belief in what she might want having flown the roost.

She managed a patronizing smile and answered Sieg, “I am not. This is not something I will decide on quickly,” she said glancing around the table, “and I can assure you that I am not willing to make a deal for titles bestowed, or for who will sire my children. This is solely my decision.”

Sinclair’s movement had caught her attention, so she settled her gaze on him. Unless she was mistaken, he had almost decided to walk out, which would be a major breach of protocol. Only someone of higher rank would stand and leave before she did, she almost sighed over how uneducated these candidates were.

“K’zk, do you have a large family?” She asked, hoping to get back to learning more about the suitors.

K'zk tilted his head slightly. "Family. . .is a handicap in. . .Entrepreneurial Liberative Venture Capitalism. What I have largely believes me dead, the rest pretend so." With a sigh he sipped his wine, "Much as your own existence was kept from general knowledge I'm sure. Although perhaps now that I have added Prime Minister to my titles I should not be surprised if a few come out of the cracks of the sea floor." Lifting his wine glass he nodded to her, this would be new information, "Blood is thicker than water, but bonds chosen are stronger than both."

Sieg didn't seem disappointed by the Princess's answer. Instead, he just shrugged and returned to his food. He barely listened to K'zk as he monologued, since the fish man hardly interested him.

Sinclair simply sat, pondering, as the discussion turned to other subjects, the Princess clearly guiding it only where she wanted. He was mulling the others, at least of the few he’d gotten to know so far. His opinions of that he kept to himself but it was interesting how the Princess already thought herself an Empress and that, at least some of them, were inferior to her, even though it felt as though each represented some other major or minor power, powers that had grown as the Galactic Emperor’s fall had allowed. He listened to K’zk as anything the others said was more information that could be used in discussions away from where they were now.

Mas nearly rolled his eyes as Sieg dug in, Sinclair went mute, and his aquatic companion tried to take the floor.

The Princess was clearly stalling for the best deal.

He absently checked his chrono. "Might I suggest this round of talks has gone as far as it goes?"

‘Ederlatth’ was fed up with the petty behaviors being displayed. She was angry that the fools didn’t stand when she did, and how they keep thinking they can tell her what to do. Sybelle was wondering how they all could be so clueless, even Mas Amedda dared to check his chrono. Then he made suggestions to her.

She had already decided that she had all she needed for now, but it wouldn’t do to let Amedda think he could be so pretentious as make a suggestion she had not requested one.

“Mas Amedda, you shall be joining your fellow suitors when all of you attend the class in Royal protocols. I’m most unhappy to witness how solely needed it is,” Sybelle said sternly, “you are here at my request, therefore checking the time, or daring to make unsolicited suggestions is unacceptable. Breaching protocol is considered an insult to me,” Sybelle sighed.

“I will arrange for guides of Royal Protocols to be sent to each of your datapads,” Sybelle said in a warmer tone, “I am hopeful that information will be helpful for when we next meet, good day.”

With that, Sybelle whisked out of the room with her escorts trailing.

K'zk blinked slowly at what could only be termed an outburst by the Princess. He smiled as he rose partially for her leaving. His hands resting on his vest until she was gone. That was certainly most enlightening. Outwardly he merely hummed an "Hmmm." at the whole situation of her being gone.

Sinclair kept a neutral expression on his face as the Princess stood. He’d already stated all he’d intended and her response to what Mas Amedda suggested told him even more about how she expected or wanted things to go. When her…response…was done and she’d stalked from the room, he felt a soft vibration on the datapad he had on his belt. There was no guarantee that it was what she wanted them all to read and follow but whether it was or not it didn’t matter to him. He heard the fishman’s murmur and that alone drew a fractional smile from him. “That was…informative.” he stated, in a flat tone.

Tag: @Sinrebirth, @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael, @CosmoHender

 

OOC: The following is a combo with Silvertough, CosmoHender, and Sinrebirth:

IC: Sulnerea Galrada etc etc, Aryan Graul, Mural Dren, Irek Ismaren, Ederlathh, and Ephin Sarretti
West Wing, Naboo

Sulnerea had arrived slightly later than the other suitors to the West Wing, not quite fashionably late nor particularly on time, garbed in a stark, iced blue robe. He regarded the other suitors with an easy-going, warm smile that almost appeared to be etched into his face. Such was even offered to Irek, even after he was struck from the Arkanian's list of candidates. A fact he still found somewhat unappealing.

The keen-eyed among them might notice a peculiar, tiny sparkle in the corner of his left eye as he looked to each suitor in turn. It belonged to a modification of his own design, wherein a tiny terminal screen was implanted directly underneath his pupil which allowed him to read or send messages from a linked datapad. It had proven undeniably valuable during long bouts of diplomacy.

Naturally, though, his attention was immediately lashed to that of the star of the show herself, Ederlathh. To her, he offered a respectful bow of his head. Before them all lay a circular table, with five open seats. A test, undoubtedly.

Sulnerea scoffed inwardly. There were always tests. What better way to keep them all on their toes? Better then that he play unpredictably. If he didn't appear to know what he was doing, then it would be more difficult to keep up.

So, without ceremony, Sulnerea glided forward and chose his seat, the 9 o'clock position in relation to the head of the table.

"I'm surprised to see you here, Mr. Graul." He said abruptly, turning his gaze to the older male human with a knowing smile. "Perhaps Nubia is more culturally progressive than I thought."

Mural kept glancing at Ephin, noticing the boy blushing. When he did not make a move toward the table, Mural moved instead, choosing a seat with an empty one left right next to her. An empty seat that she wished Ephin to fill. Of all the suitors, he was the one that she felt most comfortable around and would prefer to remain closer to. At the moment, she was even more comfortable around him than Ederlathh who, for the moment at least, still seemed completely unapproachable to her.

But Ephin had approached her first by coming to her room. And seeing Ephin right now gave Mural... ideas.

As Aryan stepped into the room, he chose the position directly across from the Arkanian entrepreneur, settling down into the chair without giving their placement any consideration. In fact, he hardly noticed any of the other suitors. He appeared distracted, his motions languid… and rightfully so. The information Lady Colla had revealed to him about a potential aerial bombardment of Naboo was at the forefront of his mind.

Even now, he could occasionally feel her eyes on him as she studied him from afar, though he would not grant her any satisfaction by reciprocating her gaze. That would raise suspicions, and he couldn’t afford to—

A subtle vibration from his pocket alerted him of a message from his comlink. It wasn’t an ideal time to answer any inquiries, especially if it was the foreman notifying him of a problem back home. He should’ve had the company well in hand; what could’ve possibly gone wrong in such a short span of time?

However, after fiddling with the device and confirming the identification code, he realized that it was much worse. It was from his wife. Aryan inwardly winced and instinctively clenched his fist around the comm, shoving it back into his pocket without glancing at the message. He couldn’t bring himself to deal with her now…

… or was that his guilt weighing heavily on his conscience?

Maybe she wasn’t even aware of the note he had left behind. Lyz had departed for Corellia the day before to visit universities with their daughter; there was no possible way she could've returned home so soon. It simply wasn’t feasible, which meant she was likely only checking in on his well-being—

Godsdammit.

His own paranoia prompted Aryan to retrieve the comlink once more, but before he could pull it free from his pocket, the Arkanian intervened.

"It’s, uh… Voldu—marr, right?" he stumbled over the name, not quite achieving the desired effect of the consummate businessman and politician. The awkward exchange brought a tense smile to his lips, though he quickly rebounded. "What can I say? It’s necessary to adapt to an ever-changing galaxy."

He canted his head to regard the man before glancing sideways at the Princess. "It would be… imprudent to get left behind in the modern era."

Sulnerea watched the two younger suitors with amusement. It almost appeared as if they were more interested in each other than the Princess herself. How adorable.

He was more interested however in how flustered Aryan Graul appeared to be. A man of his station stumbling over his words? How uncouth. Was his dig at the man's marital confusion truly that effective? He filed that away for later, just as a message began to scroll across his left retina. Well, attempted to, before his datapad's filters automatically blocked and deleted it, leaving only the sender's name briefly visible before it vanished.

Adasca.

A smile spread across his lips. A message from the home-world, right here, right now? How quaint. Undoubtedly someone high up wanted an in on his operation or were winging and whining about one of his many alleged transgressions. It must be infuriating for him to flagrantly ignore them such.

Now he almost wanted to unblock them, just so he could hang up in person. Almost.

Sulnerea bowed his head somewhat, choosing in that moment to offer Aryan a lifeline. "Please, my human friend, just call me Sulnerea. I've found that the eccentricities of the Arkanian Noble Houses play... rough, on the human tongue. But, if you wanted to play along, my full name, ignoring any honorifics or lordships, when translated to Basic, is simply Sulnerea Galrada Oolidu-Udee von Hytovin Voldumarr."

He waved away any perceived slight with a dismissive hand. "But please don't, otherwise we'd be here all day." He said with an easy-going grin.

Ephin positively skipped towards the seat to the right of Mural, but suddenly tripped.

Irek stepped over, and plopped down in the seat next to her, smirking.

The auburn-haired escort of Ephin stepped over, her green eyes shooting a glare at Irek. Lady Colla didn't look at Aryan, not directly, but her peripherals had him clocked. She tugged Ephin up, who looked abashed, and he slid into a remaining chair.

Ederlathh watched the interplay with no obvious expression and regarded the smirk on Roganda Ismaren's face with some disdain that didn't reach her face. The woman made her skin crawl, moreso than anyone in the other group, but Roganda wasn't a suitor.

They were.

"Thank you, all," she said lightly, musically, even. "I appreciate you travelling from so far and varied places, and risking the trip during a galaxy at war."

She pursed her lips. "I should ask you each for your view of that; the war between my Empire and the New Republic."

"What of it?" Irek sneered. "As soon as the Empire settles on an Emperor, then we'll crush the rebels."

"We had an Emperor," Ephin said, lightly, clearly attempting to undercut Irek. "More than once, and we're here."

"And we were most successful when we had one. Without, it's falling apart." Irek slammed a fist into the table for emphasis. "The sooner we select a suitably powerful leader, the sooner we can rally the Empire." A smirk. "The sooner an heir is borne, the sooner all the Empire's woes are over."

Ederlathh raised a hand to forestall a continuation. "I asked for the opinion of all my suitors, not just the two."

"Of course," Irek said, smugly.

"My apologies, Princess," Ephin said, cheeks scarlet again.

Lady Colla's face was rigid; her frustration evident.

Roganda continued to smile from her corner.

Mural frowned slightly when Irek took a seat next to her instead of Ephin. While Ephin felt very approachable to her, there was something about Irek that she didn't like and made her feel uncomfortable. When he smirked at her, she immediately looked away and tried not to give him any attention.

Her opinion of Irek only lessened more as she listened to him debate with Ephin. There was this... smugness about him that she found herself hating.

However, she was quickly snapped out of her thoughts when she realized that Ederlathh wanted her opinion as well.

"Well, I don't think that all of our woes would be over if an heir is born," Mural said, her voice surprisingly confident thanks to remembering her family's training. She knew that when Ederlathh wanted her to speak, she had to show strength, not weakness. "Even with a strong leader, rallying the Empire will take time and prolonged war with the New Republic is costing us resources that we cannot afford to lose. Even with an Emperor or an Empress, the New Republic will not be crushed overnight. They have, admittedly, proven themselves to be formidable opponents even if I don't think they would last long or do very well during a hypothetical peacetime. I think... I think we need more of a plan than just finding a new leader for the Empire. Perhaps a ceasefire with the New Republic would actually give the Empire a chance to recover from its losses?"

"The last time I checked Irek, it was the New Republic which held dominion over the Galaxy." Sulnerea mused, smirking. "Would that not mean it is the Empire who are the ones rebelling these days?" His previous conversation had formed the basis of his displeasure for Irek. This most recent outburst had only cemented it.

"Besides," He continued, "As our friend here so eloquently put it," Now referring to Mural, "Your Empire is in no state for a protracted conflict. If you went to war now, even with a so-called powerful figurehead, you'll be destroyed outright." A scoff. "And where'd the fun be in that?"

Sulnerea turned his attention now to Ederlathh, a saccharine smile on his face. "Of course, if you try to sue for peace with the New Republic, I'd imagine a number of your Moffs would try to seize power themselves. Quite the festival you've found yourself running here, eh Princess?" He would prefer to avoid yet another Imperial Civil War if at all possible. Such affairs had grown quite stale as of late. But if both war or peace weren't viable options, what was he to do?

"What is the greatest insult you can give an enemy?" He pondered aloud. "You ignore them. The Empire holds what borders it has, maintains the status quo, and ignores the New Republic. No more useless raiding border worlds or pontifications on the Galactic stage. You just, sit. The New Republic is floundering, at risk of breaking apart itself. Present yourselves as a better alternative, and worlds will defect and join the Banner of the Empire willingly."

"Ignore them?" Aryan leaned forward with an incredulous scoff, folding his hands casually before him. "Then I presume you still view the Republic as our enemies. That’s problematic in its own right, but if we sit on our hands and turn a blind eye to their operations, doesn’t that defeat the purpose of what we’re trying to accomplish? You prolong the war and waste more resources than if we had fought them outright. We are looking at decades before we see the returns you flaunt about." He narrowed his eyes as he turned a pointed gaze toward the Arkanian. "No, Mr. Sulnerea, peace does not always translate to weakness."

Between Sulnerea’s boasting and the constant bickering from the children, Aryan had reached his limit on how much nonsense he could tolerate. This was no longer a communal meeting to share ideas; it was a veritable madhouse. It also wasn’t the first time since arriving on Naboo that he began to question his reasons for accepting the invitation. As he observed his fellow participants around the table, he quickly deduced that he didn’t belong. The only reason he decided to partake in the conversation was to show his respect for the Princess. He owed her that much.

"A truce may be the most viable option," Aryan continued evenly, exhaling through his nose as he relaxed back in his chair. "The galaxy craves order and security; we can provide both through our benevolent Empire. It’s certainly a concept the New Republic could support."

Again, his eyes shifted to regard Sulnerea.

"And if your concern lies with the Moffs seizing power, then we merely replace them." He paused for emphasis and offered a small shrug. "Along with anyone else who adheres to the radical traditions of the old regime. I'm envisioning a reformed Empire for the new age."

Ederlathh nodded slowly. A truce, a reform.

But such things would undermine her power.

But they would also preserve her realm.

Four votes for a cessation of hostilities, albeit in differing manners, and one encouraging a lightning offensive when unity was assured.

"The war does seem to have run its course, and we're not getting stronger continuing it. Not a truce," she said, firmly, "but a line in the dirt. Recognition that the Empire needs time to stabilize."

Her voice was measured, and even.

"But -" Irek went to interrupt, and Ederlathh glared at him. Roganda tensed; Colla smirked.

"But the New Republic will not simply hand us that peace," Ederlathh continued. "They recently won the battles of Akiva and Phaeda, and have had Chandrila, Corellia, and Hosnian Prime return to them. Coruscant is embattled by uprisings that absorb millions of our soldiers, and the warlord states have taken hundreds of Star Destroyers into the Deep Core. Skirmishing in the Bormea Sector is back and forth and costly."

A succinct summary of the position they were in.

The chequered butler droid stepped in. "Your Imperial Highness, my apologies for the interruption."

Ederlathh's lips twisted in annoyance, but she accepted his handwritten note. Her expression didn't change, but a Force-sensitive would sense her dismay for a brief moment before that, too, was silenced. "Thank you." She handed the note back. "We shall have to recess for the day, unfortunately. A suitor is causing a problem."

"Before we return, I expect each of you to submit a plan to enable us to both manage the Moffs and to encourage the New Republic to cool the wheels of war. Consider it a test of policy." She indicated the untouched spread. "You may imbibe to your heart's content. I would not waste while Imperials suffer."

At that, she stood.

Her face turned to look at one of the suitors. "But not you," she looked straight at Irek. "Your attendance is no longer required."

She tilted her head towards Ephin. "Nor are yours."

Roganda and Colla hesitated, and while Roganda went red with rage, and then pale as Irek, too, went red and electricity coruscated up his bare arms -

Colla looked at Aryan sharply, green eyes cutting to him, expecting him to speak on Ephin's behalf. For his part, he looked at Mural, mouth gaping slightly, and the red hue to his cheeks embarrassment rather than anger.

Ederlathh was neutral in her expression, unimpressed by Irek. "I've been tortured, Ismaren. I fear not pain nor death."

For a moment, the Imperial Princess was truly formidable.

Mural was shocked to hear this, turning to look at Ephin. Their eyes met and her face fell. She felt... disappointed, despite Ephin being one of her rivals. She should be glad that he was eliminated and yet... she was not. But she didn't object. She knew that she couldn't, not in front of Ederlathh. So instead she stayed silent and respectful.

She also worried about the plan that Ederlathh would have her submit. No, she was not prepared for this at all…

A thin, hungry smile spread across Sulnerea's face as the night's events proceeded. Two suitors dismissed in an instant, one of whom was rather flagrantly displaying his intention to rebel.

No. His eyes narrowed slightly. Rebellion required more thought. Irek's outburst was that of a petulant child, nothing greater. His run as a potential suitor had been short, but his dismissal had revealed an important clue. Bloodlines were irrelevant to the Princess. She truly was considering all options.

Perhaps even a non-human? Oh, what a scandal that would cause for the human supremacists that so dominated the Empire.

Sulnerea's interest in this silly game was renewed tenfold.

"Every Empire requires an other to focus its citizen's anger on, from the lowliest dissident to the most zealous supporter," He replied, shooting an amused look at Aryan. "The Republic is as good as an other as one can hope for, putting aside whatever personal grievances you may hold against the institution. While the citizenry is focused elsewhere, reforms that may otherwise be, controversial, can be implemented without fuss."

He shrugged, happily taking note of how the annoyance his antics appeared to be causing the older human. He didn't personally hold any deep-seated allegiance to either the Empire or the Republic. Both had treated him well in some way or another. But it was only through the Empire that he calculated he could have the most fun. A benevolent Empire, as Aryan had called it, had the best chance for escalating the war to a degree not seen by the Galaxy in some time. But Sulnerea wanted something more. He just hadn't figured out who to nudge to get him there yet.

Sulnerea's attention returned to Ederlathh, now standing at the head of the table, and bowed his head respectfully, hungry smile never faltering. "Your ever-present hospitality, even for us non-humans, is appreciated, Princess. Your task is accepted."

As the Princess assigned them a supplemental task to complete in the interim, Aryan found himself wondering... once again why he had agreed to participate in this arrangement. He was not a child, nor did he appreciate the added burden of 'busy work' to compound the process. If Ederlathh wanted to know his thoughts on certain policies, she merely needed to ask. It would be his pleasure to share his knowledge in a civilized manner—but not as long as the Arkanian lurked on the fringes, waiting to pounce at the first convenient opportunity. The man was a nuisance, and Aryan had reached the end of his rope in terms of what he could tolerate.

To further complicate matters, the Princess unexpectedly dismissed two suitors at the conclusion of the dinner—Irek Ismaren and Ephin Sarretti. While Aryan was content to see the teenagers depart, the latter continued to cause him unnecessary grief. Sarretti was Lady Colla's ward, and she refused to accept such an insult. And so, it came as no surprise when she lifted her chin and practically begged him to intervene on the young man’s behalf. She undoubtedly believed that he owed her as a condition of their unspoken agreement.

Unfortunately, things weren’t that simple. It wasn't appropriate for him to interject and protest Ederlathh's decision. Despite the relatively relaxed nature of the dinner, it was still against protocol. If he wanted to retain his own standing in this contest, he needed to comply with all the regulations required of those in the Princess' presence.

Aryan silently conveyed those sentiments to Colla through a surreptitious glance, his lips firmly pressed into a thin line. He also wanted to further discuss his reasoning with her in private, though for the moment, it was crucial that he maintain his composure.

He hoped she understood.

To ensure that she did, he offered a small nod before departing the room.

TAG: @Silvertough; @CosmoHender; @Sinrebirth

 

Aftermath of the First Sit Down

Ederlathh dismissed them, and watched the proverbial daggers flying from the eyes of Colla at Aryan Graul.

She also noted that neither Sulnerea nor Mural stepped up to defend Irek or Ephin.

The spotted butler droid took one step from the corner of the room towards Irek as he postured.

Glancing to the droid, Roganda slapped the back of her wayward son's head, chiding him. She curtsied. "Thank you for the opportunity, your Highness."

Irek bowed, micrometer perfect, and Ephin stepped over and smiled warmly. Dropping to one knee he went to kiss her hand, Ederlatth let him. Irek seethed, but kept silent. Ephin for his part simply thanked her, and turned to go.

Roganda found the boy's perfect behavior so vexing, it was only acceptable he was gone.

But she kept it from her face as she frog-marched her son out of the room; Roganda was holding his ear as they went, almost comically.

Colla turned aside and didn't acknowledge the Princess, and Ephin gracefully departed.

Ederlatth's expression twitched; did she feel bad for him?

Not at all.

"You may remain here, and mingle, or return to your rooms."

A tilt of her chin upward.

"You are not to leave this wing of the property. I will be meeting with the other suitors in the opposing part of the building. Please do not disappoint me and not follow these instructions."

With that, they were left to their own devices.

TAG: @HanSolo29, @Silvertough, @CosmoHender (singles)
---

The other wing went much the same way.

Sybelle-Ederlathh brought it to an end swiftly, and was summoned by her Princess.

The little rabbit droid began serving them, but they were free to do as they wish.

The droid only made one line of conversation.

"You are not to leave this wing of the property. Her Imperial Highness will be meeting with the other suitors in the opposing part of the building. Please do follow these instructions."

Keeping them also together.

Whatever Sybelle had to say about Mas Amedda, Sinclair Eldar, K'zk Vrai and Sieg Dren would need to be shared with her princess in Ederlathh's personal chambers.

She had commed to say she was waiting.

Mas Amedda for his part, the aged Chagrian, hissed to himself and stormed from the room.

He managed not to glance at K'zk, focused on his own fate. He would be heading straight to the hangar.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael, @CosmoHender (singles), @Lady_Belligerent (combo)
---

Systems edge.

The Imperial Star Destroyer Judicator arrived.

Naboo was closer to the primary than this, and Brandei positioned his warship behind a distant planet to ensure it was not noticed.

The Naboo moon of Rori also blocked immediate scans from the surface, but the Royal Security Force would undoubtedly have placed sensors on the satellite itself to cover that blind spot. Brandei hadn't wanted to risk that the Princess had access to that data.

He wasn't going to come, but Rebels had forced him from Janara III and so he had very little else to do.

The Emperor's Messenger had merely loomed, seemingly content that he had delivered its message.

Brandei regarded his forces.

Thirty TIE Interceptors; six TIE Scimitars.

Four thousand Stormtroopers.

Two AT-ATs, four AT-STs.

Four shuttles.

It wasn't a full complement, but he understood Naboo merely had a squadron or two of defenses.

A Mon Calamari Star Cruiser had defended the world a few weeks earlier, but it wasn't present in orbit.

So.

The captain drummed his fingers on his command chair and wondered what best to do.

TAG: No-One

 

IC: Sinclair Eldar
Royal Naboo Palace

The Princess had departed, her last words still echoing in Sinclair’s mind. He still had not responded when she left, there was no need. So, when the small droid delivered food he did not pay attention to what was being served or to whom. He was deep in thought, collating his impressions of this first, spoken meeting with the princess as well as his impressions of the others he’d been paired with.

He was already certain what his next steps would be, while waiting for the next, surely to be fruitless, meeting with the princess. Glancing over at Sieg with a complex expression, mixing the displeasure of how the princess acted with a touch of humor that they were all in this situation. Which was when the Chagrian seemed to get an itch mite in his armor, hissing and stomping out of the door. That left him, Sieg, and the fishman whose name he was trying to remember.

“I suppose this means we’re allowed to return to the quarters they furnished. This conversation has…take any hunger I had.” he said, to the one who he’d connected with the most. He pushed away the plate that had been placed before him, standing. “Gentlemen, something tells me this little group will be gathered again. You both are good company but I have a few things that must be done.”

He nodded respectfully to Sieg and then K’zk before turning and walking out of the room. Given the situation to date he wasn’t sure there was anywhere in the palace, at least the section they were confined to, where he could do what he needed to do without the sensation of someone looking over his shoulder. Just because he didn’t notice cameras or audio recording devices didn’t mean they weren’t there.

Finally reaching the room that had been assigned to him and Sieg, he sat in one of the seats, his helmet, open end facing him, on his lap. Pulling out his datapad, he set it in the helmet, as out of sight as he could make it, before he opened the encrypted channel.

Mand’alor,

I was just involved in an interesting and informative meeting with the Princess. Not alone, as with the last time that I was in her presence it was myself and several others. To begin with, having seen all the suitors as we arrived, I am quite certain the group I am a part of is what would be considered the secondary choices that the Princess would consider as a suitor. All of us are those who are older or of nonhuman species or whose polities have not had most amicable relations with the Empire.

I did find an answer to a statement you previously made. According to the Princess, the invitations were numerous and were made out to a wide variety of beings, then many were chosen at random. Which explains to me why my own name was chosen, when it was never expected.

That was just the start of all I learned. It seems that being who we are, that expressing ourselves as not just suitors but as warleaders, heads of commercial interests, as former viceroys, is unacceptable to the Princess. How the Princess expressed herself was that it was expected that anyone who would be her mate would have to give up everything of themselves, become no more than a pale shadow to do whatever she desired, not who or what they were.

Her questions ranged from subjects such as that to the ability of the nonhumans to be able to procreate with her, as well as the size of those beings anatomy. It was awkward, especially when attempting to answer a question her reaction as that of, in my opinion, a petulant child who expected everyone to immediately defer to her and act as though what they thought or believed did not matter, that only her own thoughts mattered.

Given the way the others responded it makes me wonder how much intelligence about her and what was expected they received as each of us was a target at one point or another. Even when the Chagrian present spoke of potentially including one of the others that seemed to upset the Princess, that others were thinking and having ideas about the future other than her.

The most humorous moment, however, had to be at the end when she ended the interview abruptly, demanding that we read and exactly follow an etiquette guide she was going to have sent to us, that unless we did exactly as it said our chances were much lower of progressing. I do understand the need to respect one’s sovereign but such respect is earned. Demanding it only causes friction, as I’ve seen before.

I remain the faithful Wardleader of the Eldar Clan,

Sinclair

With the ending of the message he tapped the icon to ensure it was not just encrypted but set to a code cypher that he knew the Mand’alor had before exiting the document leaving only the jumbled subject line visible, not even the recipient, as he took the pad from within his helmet. Outside the impromptu shield of the helmet it could reconnect to the Net and he swiftly sent the message, including his Clan Chief in a blind copy, before he closed the pad again, returning it to the recess in his armor.

Sitting back, turning the helmet over and over in his hands, he considered what had happened and the possibilities of the future of this endeavor. He was already sure that the group he was a part of were not among the primary suitors and that the attitude the princess had affected demonstrated that she had no problem causing strife with those who were most likely to not be immediately willing subject or immediately submissive to her demands and orders.

Sighing, he rubbed his face, closing the scarred eye, sure that the only reason he’d remain here was to continue to gather intelligence so that the Mandalorians were prepared when the event was done, to defend or protect themselves from an Empire that would be antagonistic towards them.

TAG: @Sinrebirth, @CosmoHender, @Silvertough, @Lady_Belligerent, @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto

 

An interesting combo with Mr. Never a Dull Moment @Sinrebirth. Thank you for the adventure!

IC: Sybelle and the real Ederlatth
Royal Palace - Naboo

Upon being admitted to Ederlathh’s chambers, Sybelle curtsied and addressed the Princess, “Your Royal Highness.” She couldn’t help but think of how ridiculous it was that the suitors had not been prepped of etiquette before they arrived. Royalty was to be respected, first and foremost.

“I am here to report on the meetings I have had with my assigned suitors.”

Ederlathh was looking out of the window for the moment.

"Go on."

Distracted, as befit her station.

“They are sadly unfit, ma’am,” she began, “the only one I’d consider is K’zk. He handles himself well, and it comes across in his speech and mannerisms. The only drawback is the inability for you to enjoy marital relations, many would consider the marriage void if it went unconsummated.”

Sybelle paused for a moment, she wasn’t sure if having sex with her future spouse would be important… so far the Princess had kept her own counsel on that matter. It certainly would matter to her. Her eyes cast down at the floor thinking of Aryan, and how Lyz didn’t deserve him, and that he certainly wouldn’t be here now if Sybelle was his wife.

She cleared her throat and continued, “the young Sieg might be an acceptable figurehead as Emperor, but I’m afraid he wouldn’t conduct himself in the manner one would deem appropriate. This is likely due to his age and upbringing.” Sybelle shook her head and continued, “sadly all, except K’zk, seem to ignore basic Royal protocols. I’ve sent them guides on that and assigned reading to be done, I fully expect at least a modicum of improvement when I next speak with them.” It was tempting to pace while she gave her report, but that would’ve been disrespectful, probably something else the suitors were unaware of she thought.

“One of my biggest issues is arrogance, it is quite off putting and I cannot imagine having a husband so full of himself,” Sybelle said being completely honest.

"K'zk isn't human," the Princess said, as if that was the end of the matter.

"Arrogance is useful in a figurehead, but not in a puppet," Ederlathh said drily. "My uncle told me that once, when he discussed Count Dooku." A shudder. "Memories."

Turning back, she looked at Sybelle fully. "You haven't asked about your childhood sweetheart."

Sybelle nodded slowly, her head slightly tilted.

“I’m impressed, ma’am,” she said respectfully, “I have not revealed myself to him, nor do I intend to.” This was unexpected, was it a test?

“My research on the matter of my past is that I am deceased. Considering how the Graul patriarch controls everyone within his grasp, I disappeared and later gained access to records.”

She bit her lip, that was all information Ederlathh must have known from the beginning, but how… or who told her?

“I’m positive that if he was aware that I am alive… it wouldn’t matter. He has a wife and family, which makes me wonder how he could legally marry you.”

"Yes, I did wonder about that myself," Ederlathh said lightly. "Your contact, the man who hired you for me; Pedric Cuf, he told me about you. About your parents. About your brief time with the Graul family... about Bedlam, though I gather your memory of the Asylum is muddied."

She didn't press on. "I don't care. I need to trust you to be my face for what comes next."

"So," her tone remained conversational. "Should I marry him? Encourage him to divorce his wife, abandon his children, become Emperor?"

Bedlam? The Asylum? Sybelle hoped the Princess were toying with her, because those names meant nothing to her. How could she drop that so easily into the conversation and then say it’s likely her memory is muddled?

All Sybelle could do was continue and try not to react.

“The best candidate out of the group is Aryan Graul. He is capable and would be an exceptional Emperor,” Sybelle said. “I’m sure you can be very persuasive, the challenge will be the wife. It was a marriage that was negotiated behind Aryan’s back and forced on him, and he had no say in it. Lyz is a manipulative woman, but maybe she could be bought off?” Sybelle speculated.

After a moment of silence she said, “he has changed significantly since I knew him. His political genius has remained, I meant his personal life. Lyz and Aryan’s father have an unnatural hold on him, they bully and guilt him,” she said. “You would be doing him a favor if you selected him as your husband.”

She really wanted to ask about the Asylum comment, but was hesitant.

“And how would your feelings for him work out? Me, Empress, him, Emperor,” she said, not pleasantly. “You, as my handmaiden?”

“Going to kiss him while being my handmaiden?” Ederlathh was mild. “Or are you going to use me to get to him?” She demurred. “I can kill Lyz with an order, after all.”

Sybelle smiled and shrugged, “then kill her. It makes no difference to me, and I would never kiss your husband,” she answered truthfully. “No matter who he is, but most especially if it’s Aryan Graul.”

This was getting more difficult, and perhaps Ederlathh knew it. She had to stay strong and professional.

The truth was that Aryan had been informed of her death, and it needed to stay that way. Being told she and Aryan were finished was something Sybelle never wanted to go through again.

“You can trust me that I will remain dead to Aryan, and I will not… uh, what will my name be when you introduce me as your handmaiden?” She asked.

"Sev'rance?" Ederlathh said, somewhat wickedly. She waved the notion away. "Don't worry about it, Sybelle. You can be whoever you want." A fancy took her. "Why not Braata? My uncle was always fascinated with the Sages of Dwartii. It would work for me to assemble a coterie of servants so named."

"But for now I won't order the death of Lyz Graul, nor any of the other suitors... and I'll tell you more about Bedlam Asylum in good time." Ederlathh turned back to the window. "So we shall be sure to notify the others to leave." A demurring tone. "How best to do that, and not ruffle too many feathers? Mas Amedda rules Coruscant, that Sinclair is in good standing with the Mandalorian diaspora..."

“Well,” Sybelle decided to address the last part, filing the rest for later, “I don’t believe Mas Amedda will be difficult, he can be told that you are obliged to produce biological heirs. You should’ve seen his embarrassment over my questioning his anatomy,” Sybelle managed a small laugh. The moment had been humorous, but she was worried about the other things Ederlathh had mentioned.

“I’m not convinced the Mandalorian would be terribly disappointed either, he hardly fits the mold to be an Emperor,” she paused a moment to consider how best Sinclair could be given the news. “I assume you have decided to take Aryan Graul as your husband?” Sybelle asked.

“If you have decided, then maybe we could tell Sinclair that you have fallen in love, no one should question a Princess’ decision anyway.”

She had no idea who Braata was or the Sages of Dwartii, or what they meant to her. Sev’rance was a name she knew.

Ederlathh tapped her chin. "Let me speak to Sieg Dren, then."

"We have cut at the pool of candidates sufficiently to reveal the truth of matters." A slight thought troubled at her. "In good time may introduce yourself as my handmaiden, Braata, to the others, when they can be grouped back together. You must remain attired to look like me, and none may know you are Sybelle."

It didn't matter, overly, but a shift to a southern Empire, based on Naboo, gave Eriadu credentials that perhaps Coruscant, the inevitable target of the Rebels, didn't. So it was worth discussing. "I will thereafter speak to the other Eriaduan. The young girl."

"But we shall be looking for confidants, Sybelle," Ederlathh said, firmly. "My uncle had his friends; Sate Pestage, Ars Dangor, Kinman Doriana and others, long before he was Chancellor. His fixers. If Aryan, or K'zk, or Sinclair, they can form those such people, then so be it." She looked slightly amused. "After all, my uncles statue collection had four other names I can pass to them."

"But first I expect you to reject Mas Amedda with poise and aplomb befitting your last performance as Princess Ederlatth Palpatine."

Sybelle nodded and answered, “yes, ma’am. I shall let Mas Amedda down gently.”

Researching the Sages of Dwarii was also on her list of things to do. There had to be records or articles she could dig up and read, it was maddening to not understand what Ederlatth was talking about.

“I’m a little confused, ma’am,” Sybelle said cautiously, “you seemed to be set on Aryan Graul, but you just listed him as a possible confidant. Does that mean you are still undecided on your choice of suitors?” She asked. “Because I still think he would be the best choice,” Sybelle added, unable to hide the sadness in her voice.

Ederlathh looked back at her, for her emotional reply. “I am undecided. I will decide when I am convinced it will not upend what I have built.” At that she firmly turned back to the window.

“Go.”

Sybelle curtsied respectfully and murmured, “ma’am.”

She quickly retreated, returned to her own room, and collapsed into a chair. The first thing she wanted to do was research on these Sages, but her head was aching. Ederlatth was making her feel like she was being used for more than just a convenient double. Sybelle groaned and wished she had told the mysterious Cuf “NO”.

Tag: @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29 @Mitth_Fisto @CosmoHender @darthbernael

 

IC: Aryan Graul
The Palace, Naboo


Aryan stood back and watched the awkward exchange as the teenagers bid farewell to the Princess. Their lack of decorum was palpable, even from this distance, causing him to inwardly wince. They were young and inexperienced, no doubt oblivious to the significance of this moment. All they cared about was ego—or rather, that was all their chaperones cared about. It was all rather embarrassing. Aryan might have felt sorry for them if it weren’t for his relief at seeing them depart.

And yet, it did not solve his current predicament with Lady Colla. While he could walk away and allow her to slip out of his life, it wasn't prudent to betray her in these circumstances. Too much was at stake, especially if she decided to call in the purported airstrike. He could not be held accountable for any political ramifications or casualties that resulted from such an attack.

But most importantly, he had to look out for himself.

There was something about her demeanor he found intriguing… perhaps skirting on irresistible. She had offered him something in return for his assistance; something that she claimed he wanted. Although Aryan wasn’t exactly sure what she meant, the ambiguity enticed him.

It was enough to spur him into action—

To neglect the unanswered message from his wife—

To follow Lady Colla and her ward into the corridors beyond the dining room—

With an audible sigh, Aryan swept his hair back from his forehead and called out to the woman’s retreating back.

"Lady Colla, do you have a moment?"

TAG: @Sinrebirth

 

IC: Ederlathh

The woman stood alone for the moment.

Her hands brushed her arms, exposed in this moment of privacy.

The Doctors at Bedlam... they had taken so much from her. It was how she knew so much about the events there.



Involving Sybelle, and Aryan, and others, too.

The distant niece of Emperor Palpatine reflected on those dark days.

They had long left the facility before she was there, but the records were detailed.

What had happened, what she did, that was... the past. The recent past, but in her past.

Those six Doctors...

Dr Gray, the head of the project.

Dr Green, Dr Black, Dr Brown, Dr Red, Dr Blue...

They were his scientists.

A shake of her head, and she moved on.

What had happened at Bedlam to her, and before, to the prior six... that wasn't something she could bring herself to discuss.

Here and now, she needed to concentrate.

Watching the shuttles belonging to various rejected representatives depart, there was much to be said about those she had removed.

Sloane, Irek, Sarretti, Quest.

But there was also much to be said about those who would rebuild the galaxy with her.

Until then, she had her handmaiden, her her two droids, and had Palpatine's Estate on Naboo.

And her blood, coveted by so many.

These remaining candidates... they were enough to build an Empire.

TAG: No-one

Mentions for @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29, @darthbernael, @Mitth_Fisto, @CosmoHender, @Silvertough

 

IC: ORN-8 'Ornate' the Butler Droid



The droid wandered the halls keeping an eye out for waifs and strays and intruders.

It was not an unsurprising turn of events that the suitors were becoming more adventurous now they had made it to the second round.

With his counterpart, LEP-1 'Lepi' the Servant Droid, they had calculated their odds quite accurately.

There was a 90% chance that Sybelle would contact Aryan regardless of being forbidden to or not.

There was a 45% chance that they would all die during the process of this event.

There was a 70% chance that Princess Palpatine would be murdered; odds that had improved from 90% due to the diligence of Ornate, in his opinion.

There was a 99.9% chance that the Sieg and Mural were playing some kind of scheme.

There was a 1% chance of Mas Amedda winning the event, but it was in the 1% likelihood all other suitors were rejected and/or killed.

There was a 75% chance that two suitors would end up setting up a political and romantic relationship with the Princess to offset the two aspects and need for a heir to the Imperial Throne.

There had been a 100% chance that Irek Ismaren would act out and be kicked out. Ornate was very satisfied to see this had happened.

All suitors had a 35% chance of success, in Ornate's view.

Apart from Lord Sulnerea Galrada Oolidu-Udee von Hytovin Voldumarr, who likely had a 5% chance now that he had wandered a corner and located the man.

"You are in breach of the Princesses' request."

TAG: @Silvertough (combo)

Mentions for @CosmoHender, @Mitth_Fisto, @darthbernael, @HanSolo29, @Lady_Belligerent

 

IC: LEP-1, Lepi, the Servant Droid



The little droid was quite happy that the majority of the suitors left.

There was only one remaining to take the food, and that was K'zk Vrai.

Most appreciated.

The spread of food had taken some hours, ditto the preparation.

Most of them had probably had a bite, or a sip - a smackerel of the resplendent food to hand.

The little droid merrily, with a skip and a hip, served the nonhuman, for he was not inclined to the ruthless cynicism of Ornate, his counterpart.

Quite the opposite, in-fact, he had the view that all the suitors had a 99% chance of success.

Apart from K'zk Vrai, of course.

It wouldn't be obvious, but after imbibing a degree of the food - an especially set portion amount, miniscule in size in each individual portion of matter, be it solid, liquid or even gaseous, for some pipes were supplied for after-dinner relaxation - the poison would kick in.

Bloating was the first symptom; not the worst in a person.

Then a dry mouth.

Then dry eyes, which sounded awful, frankly.

Then the skin would feel like fire.

A stabbing pain in the chest as the poison struck at ones lungs or equivalent thereof, causing the production of chemicals that rendered swollen ones breathing apparatus; to the point one could not draw in oxygen.

Then, well, the bleeding from the orifices.

Following probably by death.

He wasn't precisely sure how the poison would affect K'zk Vrai, but it would kill a human.

Most of the suitors by this stage had been anticipated to be human, after all, what with Imperial bias.

But here we were.

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto (combo)

Mentions for @CosmoHender, @Silvertough, @darthbernael, @HanSolo29, @Lady_Belligerent

 

IC: Ephin Sarretti and Lady Colla

The butler droid had already arranged for their things to be transported to the landing pad.

Irek and Roganda Ismaren had already boarded their shuttle to leave, heading into orbit as they arrived at the hangar.

Conspicuously absent were the shuttles that had brought Rae Sloane and the others; though the shuttle belonging to Scarev Quest had been left behind, seemingly. The other various personal craft were evident, though Colla suspected that there was another private hangar for the Princess' own ship.

Lady Colla was absently tempted to whip out her lightsaber and disable all of their ships.

Let the military sort out their corpses.

But the Mandalorian dying might upset some people, let alone the nonhuman community that she was still prone to receive accusations of Imperial bias about. Which meant causing the death of the aquatic aliens or the Falleen would get her some grief. A slight sigh.

There was a sound coming down corresponding corridors; there were a few ways in and out of the palace estate, and from one came Aryan Graul and the other came Mural.

Ephin lit up like he had seen a deity, and Colla rolled her green eyes somewhat.

"Lady Colla, do you have a moment?"

Colla saw that Ephin was already rushing towards Mural, and she could keep an eye on him.

She stepped over to Aryan. "Of course, Senator."



TAG: @CosmoHender, @HanSolo29 (separate combos)

Mentions for @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough, @darthbernael, @Lady_Belligerent

 

IC: Moff Gideon

The response to the message forced it's way into Sinclair's comlink, a powerful signal that would use Mandalorian codes - some recent, some old - to overwhelm whatever he had in place to prevent such an intrusion. Seemingly the Mandalorian encryption had been breached, a wider battle in their war with the Empire and it's remnants revealed.

He already had the Darksaber ignited.

Of course he did.



"Your missives have caught my eye, Mandalorian. As the wielder of the Darksaber, I call upon you to answer to my call."

It was a complicated interweaving within Mandalorian society. The New Mandalorians and Old Mandalorians, with the Old divided between the Protectors commanded by Fenn Shysa and Death Watch, and then even Death Watch had schismed between those loyal to Darth Maul - the 'Mauldalorians' - and the Night Owls, loyal to Bo-Katan Kryze, and even then, a radicalised segment known as the Children of the Watch that was led by the mysterious Armourer.

They all co-existed, and while not all answered to the Darksaber, most answered to the command of Manda'lor, though who that was at any one time was forever up for debate - it had been since the Mandalorian Civil War began, and, technically, that had never ended.

Not with Mandalore having been glassed and the people drove into a diaspora.

"To obey my command."

Moff Gideon was formidable, and tilted his chin up to increase that sense.

"Kill the nonhuman suitors, bring me the humans from Nubia, Eriadu, and so on. They can die if they need to."

His tone grew dark.

"Bring me the Princess. Alive. That is an absolute."

TAG: @darthbernael (combo)

Mentions for @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough, @CosmoHender, @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29

 

IC: Mas Amedda

The Grand Vizier of the Galactic Empire was the last man standing.

He hadn't made it this long, living longer than Emperors, the other Grand Vizier, the Head of State, Darth Vader and most of the Grand Moffs, Advisors and Grand Admirals of the Empire by being a hero.

Mas Amedda was master of his own destiny.

Well.

Until Fleet Admiral Rax ordered him to do otherwise...

How had it all gone so badly?

He rued them all. The fellow aquatic, and his neurosis, the Mandalorian and his pithy commentary, let alone the Falleen or the teenagers annoying him so. Even that Corellian, he needed to die. That many of these were even here leant this to being one of three people and their little Master plans.

Or was Ederlathh playing with greater powers than even Mas Amedda dare?

Let alone the declaration anew of Operation Cinder...

As such, he was packing himself up to flee.

Alone.

No droid help, what was the de jure Emperor doing this for!

A rap at the door.

Could this be his help?

"Amedda, it's Dren!" he called out. "We need to talk!"

The Chagrian paused, and grinned to himself, readying his Staff of Sistros. "Sir?"

He opened the door, slightly, so as to conceal the packing for the moment.

TAG: @CosmoHender (combo)

Mentions for @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough, @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29, @darthbernael

 

IC: Queen Soruna

Even as Sybelle wandered back through the courtyard, her comlink went.

Or, rather, Ederlathh's public comlink went.

It was a Naboo code.

A royal code.

It was prefaced.

This is Soruna. The last suitor has arrived but landed at Theed. I have him at the Palace, besides me as I comlink.

The monarch.



I also have a late petition to accept another that is insistent I show it to Her Imperial Highness.

There was a request for an open channel.

The suitor's name, unknown to Sybelle before now but kept between Ederlathh and Queen Soruna otherwise.

His name was Pedric Cuf.



He was with the Queen right now.

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent (combo)

Mentions for @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough, @CosmoHender, @HanSolo29, @darthbernael

 

IC: Sinclair Eldar and Moff Gideon - Combo with our GM as Gideon
Royal Naboo Palace

Leaning back in the chair before the holoprojector, Sinclair swiveled his head back and forth, certain that there were also hidden holocameras even here. It made him doubly certain that there were more that encompassed the entire palace that someone with enough ability, which Gideon had just demonstrated, would be able to tap into them and be sure that Sinclair followed what the Moff had just ordered.

Turning his attention back to the holo he shook his head. The gaining of, the lore behind, and the meaning of the Darksaber, he knew too well. Which made this powerful man’s message odd, in a way, as the man had to know that there was a shadow over who truly owned that blade. “You wave that about as though it is a child’s toy and not the weapon, of the true owner, of the rightful ruler of the Mandalorians.” he replied coolly.

“I recognize that you wield it…even though you are no Mandalorian.” He’d faced the powerful and the bold before, including the one who had given him his scar, so he wasn’t one to bend easily to even a powerful being.

“You do realize that killing all those beings, including the former Chancellor, will cause outrage across the galaxy and both my people and yours to be targeted.” he went on, to see how this Moff thought that might affect the situation.

"But it will bring an end to this farce," Gideon said, drily. "You truly don't expect the Princess to unify the Empire, do you? It is broken. Soon, Mas Amedda will hand it over to the Rebels and the war will go underground." A chuckle. "Into the shadows, where I act." Another swish of his blade. "The sooner the better, in-fact. When the Rebels profess their victory, they'll be much easier to infiltrate."

"Any attempt which elongates this war, this lost war, is an impediment to my plans."

“Of course the Empire is broken, fragmented. I have fought more than one warlord who thought they could resurrect it without any more backing than their small fleets.” Sinclair stated calmly, matter of factly.

He waved a hand, “This…farce…as you called it has done more in two days than years at a negotiating table to create factions. Or to destroy those who seem against whatever this Princess is attempting.” Eyes narrowing, he sat forward for a moment, “Of course, she seems to be the driving force behind that, wielding her power like a dark lightwhip, trying to sever us from our own bases of power.”

His gauntleted hand retired to his desk, meeting the Moff’s eyes. “I will…consider what it would take to do as you…request.” He’d said what he had to show the man that he wouldn’t take orders but would see if such a plan was even feasible.

“Don’t expect it to be swift but the Princess is certainly making an enemy of the Mandalorians with her actions.”

"So kill her," Gideon said, absently. "I'll reward you, even if you do it out of self-interest."

He tilted off-screen. "Perhaps I'll not glass the entirety of Mandalore, too. There are still some portions of Keldabe left to save."

A smile; carnivorous. "If you act as I ask."

Reaching up with one hand, Sinclair mimed cleaning out one ear with the tip of his pinkie. “I do believe I just stated that I would investigate the feasibility of what you ask. Of course, I could just play back our discussion to be sure.” He knew he was baiting the Moff but the man had this air that he believed his mind and orders were superior to all else, especially given the threat he’d just used.

“I didn’t rise to Warleader by attempting foolish assaults that would waste the flower of the clan. And suicide missions are just that.”

The Moff continued to smile. "And yet I offered to keep Keldabe intact for you with your cooperation as a further incentive. My words were not wasted, Warleader. You would make a truly wonderful leader of my own troops." A dry chuckle. "We shall see. Fail me, and I shall incinerate what remains of your homeworld."

His tone was darker then, and the line cut.

Sitting back, his lips twitching up in an almost smile, Sinclair stared at the spot the Moff had occupied by holo only a few moments before. “The galaxy does seem to be filled with little men who have more power than they should. Determined to watch it all burn. They must be humored to allow other plans to be fulfilled.” he muttered in a low tone before he pushed himself up from his seat, to reconnoiter the part of the palace that his group had been sequestered in, to learn all he could of it.

TAGS: @Sinrebirth, @CosmoHender, @Silvertough, @Lady_Belligerent, @Mitth_Fisto

 

OOC: Crazy combo with the GM @Sinrebirth

IC: Sybelle, Cuf and others
Ederlathh’s palace Naboo


Sybelle took her time crossing the courtyard, it was a welcome respite from being indoors all the time, and she enjoyed spending time around the foliage.

The palace courtyard gardens were lovely, but they didn’t offer Sybelle the comforting refuge that she had when living on the Graul Estate. She must take care not to appear maudlin, Ederlathh had cams hidden everywhere and wouldn’t appreciate her appearing out of character.

She stopped to touch the petals of a beautiful flower and smiled to herself. It would be a stroke of luck if Aryan chose to cross this same courtyard while Sybelle was standing here. It wouldn’t be her fault, and she certainly had not been seeking him out. It would be impossible to avoid speaking to him, and what if he wanted her to sit and chat? It would be bad form not to indulge him.

It was then that her daydreams were interrupted by a comlink alert, Princess Edderlathh’s comlink. Sybelle gingerly activated the device and listened.

She was shocked to hear there was another suitor, even more when she heard his name.

Pedric Cuf!

Sybelle moved to a nearby garden bench and sat down for a moment.

Why was the man who hired her now here to court the Princess?

"Your Highness, is all well?" The Naboo Queen enquired.

"Undoubtedly she is silently expressing her disapproval of my tardiness," spoke up Cuf. "I can only apologise for the delay. One had many matters at hand."

"And yet I couldn't find out much about you, Mr Cuf," the Queen said somewhat tartly.

"My business is in keeping secrets, your Majesty," Cuf said affably, even comradely. "I help move the galaxy along. I was just as surprised to be noticed by Princess Palpatine."

"She is perceptive," the Queen allowed, clearly covering for 'Ederlathh' to recover or to comment.

“I shall excuse your delayed arrival, you couldn’t risk the galaxy falling out of sync for me,” Sybelle answered.

“Your majesty,” she nodded in recognition of the Queen, “I’m grateful to you for extending your hospitality to my friend Mr. Cuf.”

Pedric Cuf's tone was satisfied. "Very well said, your Highness."

"Your Majesty, might I take my leave?" He bowed, over hand, to the Queen. She twisted her face, concerned, but nodded.

"Of course."

Her eyes took in Sybelle for a moment, and then she turned to leave.

That left Pedric and Sybelle alone on the channel.

She waited a moment.

Then finally asked, “I’m not clear on the rules of this game, so perhaps you’ll enlighten me?”

"What game would that be, Sybelle?"

His tone was light.

He saw through her Princess regalia.

“You hired me,” she replied, “and you knew Aryan being here could… no, would be a complication, but you clearly did that on purpose.”

Sybelle stared directly into the cam to lock eyes with him. She wished everyone else didn’t know her personal business, but it was starting to seem like a lot of strangers to her were quite knowledgeable of her past.

“If you knew that Aryan would recognize me, then why do it?” Her voice didn’t quite crack.

Her lips pursed, as a stream of curses flowed through her thoughts. She couldn’t allow these thoughts to take hold. Aryan had to know she had come with their daughter, all those years ago, and she waited for him to come to meet her… but he never did.

It was clear that he didn’t want the child, or Sybelle. Nothing had made sense to her until the threats, those were loud and clear. Sybelle never attempted contact again, and then years later it came to her attention that according to official records she was dead… and there was no record of Arabella ever existing.

The only evidence of her daughter was the ashes in the locket that hung around her neck, and was currently concealed under the elaborate dress of Princess Ederlathh.

"Aryan's appearance is part-payment for you," Pedric said lightly. "You wanted to be reunited, no?"

He was walking through the corridors of the palace, towards what was likely the Royal Hangar.

"Though I'm interested in whether you intend to avenge yourself, or not. It was his father who put you in Bedlam, after all."

There it was again, Bedlam. What, and where the hell, is Bedlam?

“Norin Graul would send me directly to hell if he had the opportunity, I would take my chances in a gundark nest before I’d go near him,” she said adamantly. “You wouldn’t be saying these things if you knew what happened, because Aryan and I cannot be together.” Somehow she said it, and hopefully it was convincing.

“Aryan was in my past, he chose his future, besides Princess Ederlathh has forbidden me to speak to him,” pausing for a breath, she quickly checked to be sure no one was eavesdropping. “A reunion was not part of my payment, we did not agree on that,” her patience was now sorely being tested. “I will do this job that you are paying me for, and then I will depart for my next job… that is far from here.”

She was tempted to sever the connection, but she didn’t… yet.

“What did you mean about Norin Graul putting me in Bedlam?” Sybelle asked quietly.

New
"I meant what I meant," Pedric Cuf said. "But you don't want to know; you're being paid for a job, not being paid in Intelligence." At that, he cut the channel.

He'd be here soon.

Another comm update.

This time from the droids.

Lepi, the bunny droid, had confirmed that one candidate had been poisoned as instructed.

Ornate, the butler, intended to kill one of the candidates for being out of their room.

Sybelle sighed in disbelief and asked the droids, “who is out of their room?”

Ederlathh must have ordered these actions, but it would’ve been nice to have been clued in on the plans. Sybelle growled and was tempted to toss the comlink into the fountain that was in the center of the courtyard.

“This place is insane… maybe this is Bedlam,” she said to herself.

The Falleen with the hugely lengthy name, confirmed Ornate.

The Lepi confirmed that the aquatic species, K'zk, was in the throes of poison.

The Falleen with the hugely lengthy name, confirmed Ornate.

“Who ordered these actions?” Sybelle asked. She wondered what these men had done to warrant being eliminated… by death. Would Ederlathh kill all of the suitors she rejected, or just the non-humans?

“Where is K’zk?” She asked.

"They were ordered by you," the data said. "The Princess."

K'zk was in the foodhall. He was the only one to stay to eat.

K’zk had been very respectful when they interacted, and his people would certainly take issue if he died here. Sybelle had to act, she stood up and slowly and left the courtyard.

She took a circuitous route to the food hall.

Tag: @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29 @Mitth_Fisto, @Silvertough, @darthbernael, @CosmoHender

 

OOC: The following is a combo with Sinrebirth – thank you so much!!

IC: Aryan Graul and Lady Colla, aka Mara Jade
The Hangars, the Royal Palace, Naboo

As Aryan traversed the length of the corridor and stepped out onto the landing pad, he noted that Lady Colla did not look pleased. She stood rigidly near the shuttle, the artificial lighting causing her emerald eyes to gleam in mild frustration. And really, he couldn’t blame her for harboring such emotions. The Princess had just unabashedly—and unexpectedly, dismissed her young ward from the competition. There was no longer a need for her services. For Colla, the trip to Naboo had essentially been a waste.

Rocking back on his heels, Aryan took a moment to observe the teen as he rushed to meet a young girl who had appeared from the adjoining corridor. He certainly didn’t appear distraught by his circumstances. In fact, it was the complete opposite. If his interaction with the girl was any indication, Aryan surmised that he would get along just fine. The boy had moved on to other exploits and had already forgotten about Princess Ederlathh.

Lady Colla, on the other hand…

Aryan cleared his throat as he approached, his arms hanging awkwardly at his sides. "About what happened earlier," he began quietly, his tone almost conspiratorial. "I didn’t have a choice; it wasn’t standard protocol for me to interfere. She would’ve eliminated us both. In that sense, I had to uphold appearances."

He shrugged, his posture relaxing a bit. "That doesn’t mean I’m not interested in your proposition. I was hoping there was still a way for us to maintain contact through the duration… and act as needed."

The woman slid a green eye towards Ephin and Mural and then stepped closer to Aryan.

"Is that me as the servitor of a future Imperial Moff, or me as the NRI officer?"

Her red hair seemed to flow with the rage contained in her eyes.

Aryan’s expression hardened, his gaze matching the fury in her eyes. "I didn’t intend for this to be difficult," he grumbled under his breath, idly reaching up to run a hand through his hair. Considering his refusal to defend the boy, he should’ve prepared himself for a curt response. Even then, he wasn’t entirely convinced it would’ve mitigated the situation. He had encountered her type before; she was stubborn.

"Look, all I know is you mentioned a specific outcome… an event…" He spoke vaguely, purposely omitting details to account for any listening devices. He also gesticulated with his hands in an effort to illustrate his words. Nevertheless, it was obvious he was referencing the airstrike she had alluded to earlier. "If you still intend to carry through with those plans, I want to come out on the right side of this thing. Whether you’re working for the Empire or the NR, I don’t care. We can sort that out later. For right now, you need an alibi; you said as much."

He angled his chin and maintained eye contact, his conviction unwavering. "I can help you with that," he said with a slight nod. "I made a mistake by coming here, so it’s the least I can do."

The boy and girl weren't evident, having snuck off. Colla followed them with her eyes but knew a young and romantic tryst when she saw one. Her green eyes refocused. "Well, let's get started with the obvious. One, you're Aryan Graul, a married man, former Imperial Senator said to be eyed by Palpatine to replace Mas Amedda when he aged out of the role."

"Two, I'm Mara Jade, and I can see right through you with the Force."

His brow lifted when she revealed her true identity, a wry smirk spreading over his lips. Aryan knew the name well. A former Emperor’s Hand and the infamous ringleader of the Smuggler’s Alliance, Mara Jade had a formidable reputation across the known galaxy. Depending on the source, it was a conglomeration of good and bad, though that didn’t stop Aryan from admiring her. Not only was she pleasing to the eyes, but he had spent years collecting anecdotes from various news outlets, taking every opportunity to pore over her exploits from the Outer Rim to the Core. In some respect, perhaps his inner child even yearned to experience her adventures vicariously through her.

Standing before her now, he was thrilled to finally meet her in the flesh. His demeanor also noticeably changed; he was more composed as he offered a small nod of acknowledgment. Not even her summation of his purported fate, which had Palpatine grooming him to become Grand Vizier after Amedda’s demise, could sour his mood. She knew who he was, and that’s all that mattered to him at that moment.

"No kidding," Aryan breathed in a sultry tone, still trying to process this news. He then chuckled lightly, his smile widening to reach his eyes. "It’s certainly an honor."

Slowly, he stepped forward to close the distance between them. "And what does the Force tell you about me, Mara Jade?"

Mara sniffed. "No different an opinion than when you thought I was the Emperor's paramour."

He spread his hands slowly, a look of mock surprise coming over his features. "Hey, what else was I supposed to believe at the time?" he drawled in a husky baritone. "You thoroughly embraced the role."

A slight smile. "You're out of your depth, almost entirely."

Aryan actually laughed, hooking his thumbs into his pockets as he adopted a more casual stance. Despite the magnitude of her proposal, he found her presence soothing; something had changed when she revealed her true identity. It was more of a superficial thing, fueled by his own sensuous desires—or was it more of an infatuation? Whatever the case, he quickly brushed it aside to focus on the moment. He hadn’t felt this way in a long time, and it felt good... almost revitalizing. It was exactly what he set out to rediscover when he had accepted the invitation.

"You make an astute observation," he replied dryly, angling his chin to regard her carefully. "I’m not going to argue with that. I already admitted to my mistake; in fact, I think I came to that realization as soon as I stepped off the shuttle and saw how young the Princess was. But I had to satisfy my curiosity all the same."

Pursing his lips, his expression turned serious once more. "It’s not every day you receive a report about the apparent heir to Emperor Palpatine’s legacy. The man was deranged, and I never supported his personality cult, but I had to see for myself; if there was a remote chance for the Empire to rise again." He shrugged and rubbed a hand over his jaw. "Honestly, I still don’t know the answer to that question."

"The Empire lost the war at Endor," Mara said drily. "Thrawn and Palpatine and the rest just haven't accepted it. Without Byss, I doubt the war will last months more. Unification might bring it to an end quicker, but I think we can both see Ederlathh isn't going to manage that."

A slight sigh. "I heard Chancellor Mothma refused to accept Mas Amedda's surrender until he could deliver the whole Empire. So don't be surprised if unification is just a prelude for surrender."

"I'd like the Empire I believed in to come back, but... I'm not convinced it even existed. Palpatine lied to me, Senator," she used his old title like a knife. "I am sure he did you. The Empire we wanted was never supposed to be." She paused. "So, did you want to come with me while you still can?"

Her green eyes sparkled. "Or do you think that idealised version of Empire can truly exist, once all the Sith and Dark Jedi and warlord influences are cut out?"

"I think it’s possible, sure," Aryan answered carefully, his expression sobering. "But I agree with you about Ederlatth’s capacity. She’s our biggest obstacle. I don’t think she has the experience or the mental stamina to carry us through to achieve that goal. She’s too… impressionable? Naive?" He waved his hand as he sought the right word to describe the child. "It wouldn’t surprise me if we discover that the Princess is a mere puppet and someone else is pulling the strings from the shadows."

Jade’s assessment of their circumstances was fair; their prospects for a restored Empire did not look very promising. He acknowledged that simple truth with a slight nod. Nevertheless, he knew it wouldn’t be as straightforward as him turning his back on the whole ordeal and walking away.

"Unfortunately, I can’t join you," he continued with a rueful smile. "I’m a wanted man. The Republic will arrest me if I wander into one of their strongholds. It’s complicated, but it all stems back to the Senate; they condemned me for staying at my post for as long as I did. Ironically, the Empire didn’t approve either. They would’ve preferred if I had fled and taken my treacherous views about democracy with me."

Aryan chuckled lightly, somewhat embarrassed by the pitfall of his situation. "That’s why I opted to remain on Nubia for all of these years and work in my father’s company. It’s neutral ground. Hell, I’m taking an awfully big risk by simply coming here."

Mara looked at Aryan with some curiosity. "There does seem to be a point where Imperial Senators should have jumped, but hadn’t. So they were arrested by Palpatine and condemned by the Rebels." A slight shrug. "Clearly you hung onto power for too long."

She cut him off before he could reply. "NRI is mainly concerned about where Ederlatth has been for the past three, four years. Roughly the same time Zsinj died, and about six months before Thrawn launched his campaign, Fleet Admiral Oxtroe bypassed the Ruling Council and offered the New Republic Ederlatth; as an eleven-year-old Empress. Mon Mothma would have been Regent and the Empire reformed into a constitutional monarchy."

Mara wasn’t sure whether telling him this was advisable, but there was something missing in this story. "The first round of secret talks went very well; but the second round never happened. Oxtroe was murdered by an assassin's knife, and Ederlatth vanished…"

She trailed off to see if the man could supply a theory.

A shadow seemed to pass over Aryan’s countenance as he considered her words. He didn’t appreciate her criticism of his past actions in the Senate, which momentarily soured his mood—however, he was able to retain a rational mind and focus entirely on her narrative. He viewed it as an opportunity; not only to help clear his name but appeal to Jade’s sensibilities.

Besides, he simply couldn’t help himself.

The story of one Imperial Officer’s crusade to legitimize the Empire was rather intriguing. It was an impressive feat for such an ambitious project to progress as far as it did with the New Republic leadership, but ultimately, a shame that she had met an untimely fate. At least he now had a basis for Ederlatth’s motivations.

"I had a front-row seat for the start of the Thrawn crisis," Aryan noted casually, downplaying the effects of the resulting conflict, particularly the loss of his son as one of the early casualties. The tragedy impinged on his memory, causing him to falter, though he quickly recovered. "As I said, I was on Nubia, but the frequent raids that preceded the war affected the entire Corellian Sector. I remember one on Corfai in particular; it seems relevant to your case."

He angled his chin as he studied her, hoping his words had some kind of impact. "It’s a supply depot, so naturally, we had one of our company fleets docked there. They were conducting a transfer on a purchase order destined for Coruscant when the attack occurred." He exhaled sharply and shook his head, still in disbelief. "We lost two good barges and thousands of credits worth of bronzium, which set us back for months until we could recoup our losses—but the part that pertains to you appeared in the incident reports.

"When the Empire boarded our vessels, the surviving crew described the assailants as small, gray-skinned bipeds; muscular, but with no hair on their bodies. They were ruthless but effective when they cut down our security officers. We cross-referenced the species with our database during our investigation and concluded that they were Noghri."

Meeting her gaze, Aryan nodded with a faint smirk, clearly proud of his discovery.

"I was thinking if the Empire utilized these creatures to execute their raids, why not for other assignments? Such as… assassinations?" He shrugged. "The timeline fits."

Mara's strategy of irritating her opponents to keep them off-balance seemed to have worked, but Aryan drew upon hidden composure and recovered. He also provided her some interesting titbits about his company in the Corellian Sector, but that wasn't overly relevant now. Tucking away the information for later. she gave him a slightly superior smile.

"You have it. The knife used to kill Fleet Admiral Oxtroe was a Noghri design, so it was definitely Thrawn behind the assassination, and that means he had the Princess for all those years. The Ruling Council was based on Orinda and fell to the New Republic, then Reborn Empire, and is currently back in New Republic hands. It's not revealed anything about her. The Chimaera, Thrawn's flagship, we captured at the Battle of Duro, and its databanks didn't tell us."

"So where was she? And how is she free now?" Mara twisted her lips. "Did she wait for the Emperor's clones to die off? Her DNA would have been key to continuing the clone line." She leaned forward and whispered. "Especially as members of the current Ruling Council, led by Scarev Quest, sabotaged those clones."

"Which means we have to wonder where Thrawn kept her."

Her green eyes focused on Aryan. "And I've just been asked to leave Naboo. Which means you need to find out for me. Do that, and I'll get the New Republic arrest warrants dropped."

His eyes seemed to gleam at her proposal; it would be a difficult task, but well worth the risk if it absolved him of the false pretenses that marked him as a criminal. That didn’t even take into account the rest of her statement, which included the revelation that Ederlatth had ties to the infamous Grand Admiral Thrawn. It was certainly an interesting development, one that reinforced his decision to distance himself from this farce and assist Jade on her mission.

"Alright… that sounds reasonable enough," Aryan drawled evenly, nodding his head to reaffirm his words. "I can do that. You get your information, and I regain my innocence. But, uh…" He exhaled softly and scratched at the back of his neck. "What about a plan to extricate me if things go south? You still intend to… carry through with the airstrike, right? I’ll also need a way to contact you directly."

He then pressed his lips into a thin line as another thought crossed his mind; perhaps the most critical of all.

"Do you think it’s possible for the Princess to be a decoy?" Aryan asked carefully, his gaze turning hard. "Maybe Thrawn is still out there, serving as the mastermind behind this whole thing… and we’re just along for the ride."

"We're 99% sure Thrawn is dead. The Imperial response sells it, and their own data too." She twisted her lips. "Let alone the state of the Empire in his absence."

Mara refocused. "I'm worried Ederlathh is the mastermind. The airstrike... I won't be calling it in if I have an asset on the ground. The Wraiths aren't pilots I can just feed targets to without Face Loran wanting to know why."

"But, a decoy..." Mara paused. "Very Naboo, I gather. The Queens often switch with their handmaidens, and Palpatine, he used to have body doubles... let alone those clones." She sounded fairly distasteful. "What makes you think that?" Mara's eyes narrowed.

For the moment, she was focused on what Aryan was saying, but there was something niggling at her…

Aryan opened his mouth to speak but then stopped himself, dissolving into a soft scoff. She had misinterpreted his meaning of 'decoy', though she raised a relevant point all the same. It was something he hadn’t considered before. Was Ederlathh truly the architect of this elaborate scheme? And was she using a body double as her proxy to perform her dirty work?

A frown creased his forehead as he pondered the possibilities—

And then he remembered his arrival and the strange presence he had felt upon stepping onto the landing platform. His muscles had gone rigid, and the hair on the back of his neck had stood on end. He had dismissed it at the time, attributing it to his nerves, but now he wasn’t so sure. It was as if someone had been watching him from afar… someone familiar.

He returned his attention to Jade and exhaled softly, eager to share his revelation—however, he still had to practice caution. "It… was more of a feeling," Aryan said tentatively, wincing slightly as he tried to formulate his thoughts into words. "I sensed it from a distance. A presence, really. You know, like when you have your back turned and someone has their eye on you. It’s that odd sort of tingle… when you know you’re not alone. It was like that. I guess you could call it intuition."

It was likely the Force, but he purposely refrained from mentioning it by name.

Biting his lower lip, Aryan shook his head slowly. "I just wonder if that was our culprit."

TAG: @Sinrebirth; @Lady_Belligerent; @Mitth_Fisto; @CosmoHender; @Silvertough; @darthbernael

 

IC: Mara Jade
Skirmish at the dock

"I just wonder if that was our culprit."

Mara began to wonder.

It wasn't unheard of in Naboo custom after all for a noble to deploy decoys. Padme Amidala had turned the practice into an artform, while Palpatine had transmogrified it into a line of clones. Would the Imperial Princess do the same?

Her gut said that Aryan was right.

"You need to stay, and figure this out. Whomever is speaking to the real Ederlathh is an actual candidate. The decoy is just being used to run circles around the others, and its generating chaos."

There was suddenly a commotion off to the side, and Mara was surprised to have been caught off-guard by it -

She turned -

Her eyes cut to the shuttle where two individuals had just tumbled from.

Ephin, yes, but also Mural.

There was an interplay with a shadowed man, and Mara thought she recognised the telltale attire of a Knight of Ren -

Ephin fell off the ramp, crying out, as it lifted to trap Mural inside.

Hang on, that's my ship they're stealing -

Mara was already running forward. "Aryan, run!"

She thumbed her comlink, lowering the ramp again, and a Knight leapt out. He drew a lightsaber, and she recognised him as Skoll, from outdated Intelligence reports.

Cursing, Vicrul leapt from the Jade's Fire, and gestured with the Force to seize Mural and try to draw her towards him -

In Aryan's distraction, he wouldn't notice until a few moments later that a blaster was pointed at his waist.

Small, it prodded him, held by the droid Ornate.

"Come with me."

TAG: @CosmoHender (one combo), @HanSolo29 (separate combo)