[Sagas; IC] Ghosts of the Past - Act I, Part I

[MadMaeve]

Act I

“A word of advice, Inquisitor: Men ought either to be well treated or destroyed. Never simply 'injured.' They can avenge themselves of lighter injuries. Of more serious ones, they cannot. Therefore the injury that is to be done to a man should be such a kind that one does not stand in fear of revenge.”
-Emperor Palpatine, Taped Conversation (7 BBY), Imperial Palace.


A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away...

---

https://s-media-cache-ak0.pinimg.com/736x/74/7e/0b/747e0bb76c6d0a2e9d70363dce69017e.jpg

"... office of New Republic Intelligence, Winter Celchu. ... Please hold." (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=T1bAVncleFk)

Click.

"... office of New Repu- ... I'll transfer you to civil security, one moment."

Click.

It has been roughly a day since the Holonet hijacking incident. A day since a mad man's recording took over the news for a minute and a half. Twenty-three hours since New Republic officials attempted a coverup and news blackout about the incident at Coruscant. Twenty-two hours since a suspect was apprehended. And twelve hours since repeat footage was leaked in Hutt Space, and began to appear on local system broadcasts.

All ability to control the situation had failed. Through the power of gossip and public scandal, the urge to pass on information too good to leave alone, the galaxy has come to see another of the Empire's secrets brought up to the public eye.

A secret with no name.

Normally, projects like these would have names that could be sold to people desperate for a new story. Deathspayre. Lusankya. Byss. Something evocative, mysterious, dreadful, laughable, anything to make it sell to the right alien.

But this? This recording? The fevered ramblings of an imperial scientist, using coordinates so lost to time and the now defunct Imperial records hall, blathering about the Force and discoveries made in it as though it were a lab womprat? It was, at once, enigmatic and mysterious, but all of the relevant details had seemingly been removed. Not even the name of the suspect got leaked. You couldn't call it anything more than 'the hijack.' But it traveled. And it kept traveling until it was on the lips of every sentient in the known galaxy. Inspiring morbid curiosity, dread, fear, anguish anxiety, anger... even riotous moods.

"... office of New Republic intelli-... I'll... I'll tell Miss Leia to mobilize the civil police. Just try to keep things under control. Which sector is..."

Welcome to Coruscant, where this whole mess got started. The mood is tense, and the people are anxious. Rumor and misinformation is spreading quickly through the underground, spinning tales about the hijack and the New Republic's attempts to cover it up. Security forces are being blamed for letting something as small as one person break into the Holonet. Senators are pointing fingers. Some have even said that the Republic engineered this as a propaganda stunt to try to discredit the remaining Imperial remnant. Public opinion is moody, and the on-going riot in Juncture, the city's transportation hub, more than adequately illustrates how volatile the situation has become.

Through one channel or another, you have been contacted by New Republic security. You have been asked to come to the former Imperial Palace - a dark, mountain-like castle sitting in the heart of the Temple district - to meet with 'someone important' in the intelligence wing. There's no mistaking what this is about. The personnel in the palace are as anxious about this as the people outside.

You are ushered specifically to an expansive, garden-like space in the heart of the building, while this important person prepares to brief you. Rows of work desks and consoles are arrayed against either wall, separated down the middle by a verdant column of plant species from the core worlds. The whole building is busy, and this wing is no exception. Even Winter, Leia's handmaiden, is helping the civil defense and local intelligence departments handle inbound calls, audible from far down to the right. Meeting rooms - labeled 103-A through 103-D - are to your immediate left and right from the blast door out. Conversations go on behind ray-shields and sound dampening coils, for obvious reasons.

[esorscher]

The tall, lean man in Gray Jedi robes stands with his arms crossed, gazing with rapt attention on the green column of life amidst the center of the chaotic square. Two lightsabers hang in holsters on his hips, concealed by the robes draping from his crossed arms. His traveling bag is slung over his shoulders but beneath his cloak, the two gray straps on either shoulder almost camouflaged as they peek out from beneath the gray of his robes. Still, there is no mistaking this man as a Jedi, from his stance and carriage, if not the grimly determined look in his stormy blue eyes. In a practiced motion, he runs a hand through his long blond hair, then down his full beard, rubbing his chin thoughtfully as he considers the dichotomy of life present in this scene. On the one hand, the seemingly calm but considerably active plant life before him, working as tirelessly as the bustling people surrounding him but at a much slower rate; on the other, the nervous hustle of man and machine, volleying across the courtyard on missions and errands from their superiors, much like the ants crawling in the soil of this foliage.

Soren closes his eyes and breathes deeply, centering himself and reaching out through the Force. The Imperial Palace, inhabited by Darth Sidious for so long, might well have become a magnet for the Dark Side, and here, in the heart of the building, was as good a place as any to check. Moreover, he reaches out into his surroundings, seeing what he can glean through casual exploration and observation as he waits patiently for whomever he is meant to meet here.

(Both swift actions)
Sense Force: [roll0]
Sense Surroundings: [roll1]

[Getsugaru]

Examining the various plant species in the garden was an unusual figure, one that never would have been allowed within during Palpatine's rule. A feline figure with a long tail stood in the middle of the garden, inspecting various species of plants with clawed fingers. Despite being a Trianii and covered in fur, the individual wore simple garments fitting a trader; sturdy boots, a knee-length skirt, a belt with many pockets and various tools mounted upon it, a loose short-sleeved shirt, and a pack slung across her shoulder. Underneath her clothes was a black bodysuit of some kind which covered everything from the neck down. On her left arm was a bracer-computer, and on her right an armband that covered her wrist to her elbow. a pair of bracelets adorned her wrists, and part of her long black hair was braided on the right side with a bead to hold it in place.

Using her bracer computer to access the net, the Trianii watched the video again, checking if any important clues were still audible through the wind and static. Thinking she may have found one, she decides to follow up on a lead. After, she decided to see if she could dig up any new information about the mysterious hijacking and message; the more information she went in with, the better.

Uses bracer computer to access the holonet [Use Computer DC 10]; skill rank is 15, so success is guaranteed.

Follow up on a possible lead [Knowledge Galactic Lore; can reroll and keep the better result] [roll0]+16 or [roll1]+16, use higher.

Check for new information related to "the hijacking" through the holonet [Gather Information?] [roll2]+16

[Princess]

A young woman with black hair bound in a ponytail struts in, her soft boots soundless as she enters. Most of her body is contained inside a snug, dark grey flight-suit, and a small blaster is strapped under her left arm.

Looking around, Veira nods to the others present, but doesn't say anything just yet - she's curious why such an ostentatious location was chosen for this meeting, and figures she should take in the scene before asking any questions.

[roll0]

[MadMaeve]

Sensing around the building is like reaching one's hand into the cage of a wild animal. Every 'step' you take is met with an aura of unease and distress, the fear of being bitten by something feral and rapid. Not the dark side, but... something still foul and raw that still lingers years after the animal has been put down. The mental shades of students appear here and there in the complex, not unlike opening one's mind at the Praxeum. Their signatures are weak. Candles in the ambient dark.

One presence stands above them all. Soren has sensed someone like this before years ago. Back then, it was filled with vigor and raw energy. Now, it is worn, but nonetheless filled with an unconquerable mental strength. It pulses in conference hall 1-C, drawing inward...





Using a little deductive reasoning, the list of suspect systems that the recording could be mentioning thins until only one remains - Thanium Sector, or the former Thanium worlds. Currently empty space, save for the trade lane worlds leading to Mon Calamari.

Reading up on recent news reveals little Shyrrana didn't already know, save for one thing. A Duros sound engineer who had examined a raw copy of the hijacking deduced that the recording had been gain-boosted and doctored to improve the quality. Overexposure of the wind on the record was a telltale sign. Whoever worked up the current copy of the recording knew at least how to bring out the voice of the subject, and either knew how to do it himself or knew somebody who could help him.





Veira's eyes and ears catch quite a bit. The bags under Winter's eyes, the distressed and nervous former Spec Ops grunts trying desperately to respond over holocall, the speculative chitchat of bureaucrats trying to filter the news. The sound cancels out just enough to hear something low in the back cubicle:

"Skywalker?!"

"Keep your voice down, you moron! You're gonna make everybody get jumpy."

"He's not even supposed to be here..."

"Well, he's here now, and he doesn't want any attention. Just meeting a few people."

"Who?"

"How should I know?"

"You mentioned it!"

... and so on and so on.



After a few minutes of servicing calls, the white haired woman heading the calls, Leia's confidant Winter, finally depowers the holoprojector. She sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. "Ugh... what a mess..."

Her eyes lift back up. It takes her a moment to realize that the 'special group' she had been informed of was already putzing around the lobby.

She does not miss a beat - Winter pulls herself out from behind the desk and approaches the group. A crease of her dress and a refolding of her hair, and she is back to her stoic, regal self. Her eyes jump between the three as she addresses them. "If I have your names correctly - Soren, Shyrrana and Veira. You were contacted by the intelligence office this morning, yes?"

[Getsugaru]

Deactivating the holo-screen of her bracer, Shyrrana looks over to the well-dressed human and nods in affirmation. She shifted her position, taking a casual stance facing towards the aide, a hand on her hip and her tail swinging back and forth in small movements.

[Princess]

Veira's slack posture straightens up as the other woman approaches.

"Yes, I'm Veira," she responds with a nod.

[MadMaeve]

"As stoic as ever, I see," Winter notes to Shyrrana, with a lack of affection. The silver-haired Leia-double was never very emotive. Even in the face of stress and frustration, her face betrays little but a professional attitude.

To Veira, she smiles, but only just enough to make it curt. "Good to have you working with us again. Apologies for the sudden notice."

"I... don't believe I have to say why we've called you here. You have probably seen all of the commotion yourself."

[Getsugaru]

"The cargo," the Trianii remarked, about as emotionless as Winter's own remark.

[esorscher]

While Soren dithers over what to do about who he suspects waits in room 1-C, his attention is drawn back to the present at the approach of the princess's aide. His reflexive nod is nonetheless almost imperceptible as he remains reserved, refusing to show any sign of emotion nor recognition. "Perhaps we should take this conversation out of the open," he says grimly, looking toward room 1-C with a knowledgeable air.

[MadMaeve]

"Ahh... agreed. I have been keeping you here for too long."

Winter motions toward room 1-C, off to the right. Her hands temple together as she leads them over. "Your contact is waiting for you. Your accounts have also been linked to the New Republic database for the time being. Should you need SpecForce's help or additional information, it's there."

She parts a lock her hair back with a near-regal flourish. "And, as with all things this sensitive, you weren't here, nor do you know the person in this room. Understood?"

[esorscher]

Soren gives another almost imperceptible nod and stands patiently waiting. A small smile crosses his lips in anticipation.

[Getsugaru]

Shyrrana nods in affirmation once again before following over to the conference room. With each step, her tail sways from side to side, its instinctive movements ready to assist with balance in case of trouble.

[Princess]

Veira nods, following the others along to the conference room and contemplating how much and what sort of equipment she'll be able to request for this little mission.

But she'll need details, first.

"I'll need all the intel you have."

[MadMaeve]

With a knowing nod to all three, Winter keys in a code in the panel next to the door. It opens with a delay and a long, sharp hiss.

There are two eye-catching things in this room. The first - the golden, beaming skyline of Coruscant, shining through polished ferroglass at the opposite end of the room. Shadows dance along an ovular conference table, the dots and squiggles of landspeeders and freighters going about the morning commute. It is a good enough view to see the all of this side of the city-planet, down to the horizon. For better or for worse.

The second? Luke Skywalker himself (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4Sdf3YNCk0Y). A little off-center, towards where one of the Grand Moffs would sit.

He's not a big man, nor is he that imposing. The loose Jedi robes didn't do him any favors there. It's the face that stands out. The eyes, blue clouds on faint air, staring off into the void. That smile. Even meditating, even radiating a ragged, worn aura, he could still beam a wry, knowing smile without thinking about it. There's a certain confidence with him, but also a sense of learned humility. This is a face that's seen a lot, and a lot of people have seen. Not personally, but through holonet transmissions, visits, apocrypha, the things that the galactic community sees from time to time.

The door whirrs shut behind you. His eyes refocus. The master's smile fades as he's brought back to the present. "... Sorry about the runaround. My name is Skywalker, call me Luke. If you don't mind, I want to keep this brief so you three can get this sorted out."

[Getsugaru]

Shyrrana pays no attention to the view; while it may have been stunning, it was still just an ecumenopolis. Despite being a trader, the Trianii had grown bored of metal spires long ago, seeing most of the planet as nothing but an eyesore. Instead, she turns her attention to the young man at the table.

Walking over to the table, Shyrrana slowly turns one of the chairs opposite the jedi around before setting herself down in it; the Trianii's tail wraps itself close to her body as she sits before unwinding and laying along the side. A slight twitch keeps her tail in motion, the end swaying back and forth off the end of the chair.

"The job then," the Trianii inquires.

[Princess]

Veira admires the view - Coruscant put the cities of Fondor to shame, really - as she proceeds into the room. Proceeding to have a seat at the table, she resists the urge to gush at one of the most famous fighter pilots in the Galaxy, and she wonders what the rest of her old squadron might say if they were here.

Ultimately, she settles on the simple statement, "I'd appreciate as many details as possible."

[esorscher]

"Master Skywalker," Soren nods with a slight smile. The two have met before, more than once, in Soren's training at the Praxeum. He says nothing on it, but sits down at the table across from Luke and waits for instruction--a familiar activity on his part in his interactions with the Jedi Master.

[MadMaeve]

Luke chuckles. "No need to call me master, Soren. Luke's fine."

He clears his throat, hands coming together over the tabletop. "You all already know about what happened. The holonet was hijacked, that message was broadcast all over New Republic space. It's gotten further than that in the past few hours. The whole galaxy thinks there's a new 'problem' to deal with, and they're petitioning the senate to look into it."

"I'm putting you on assignment to take care of this quickly and discretely. I have a feeling that whatever 'this' is, it's a scare tactic. With the Jedi order being so fragile, we can't let something like this stand. But if the New Republic responds, it only legitimizes whatever phantom menace our hijacker wants to seem important."

"Your mission, should you take it, is to interrogate the suspect for the hijacking and find out how deep this goes. He's currently in a holding cell in the basement. If you find anything substantial underneath this publicity stunt, report it to SpecForce. You have full authority to handle it appropriately."

[Getsugaru]

Shyrrana listens closely to the jedi's words, noting the specific wordings including "full authority to handle it appropriately." If such a big premium is being offered, then the difficulty could be expected to be just as hazardous. "Double my fee," the Trianii states, not a hint of emotion in her statement.

[MadMaeve]

Luke's nose crinkles. It seems like he expected this. "We have the credits to spend. Considered it doubled. I know all three of you are good enough to get this done without a hassle, so any cost is worth it."

[esorscher]

"Very well, Master Skywalker," Soren smirks. "If I may ask, why were we selected for this mission?"