Age Before Beauty

[Nicolás Cormond]

The Coruscant Museum of Arts was, like any other planetary museum, a symbol of the planet’s wellspring of various cultures, ideals and illustrations. However, unlike any other museum, this was home to far more pieces and far more priceless designs. Given Coruscant stood at the center of the galaxy and as the nexus of a million different threads that tied the known universe together, from the backwater worlds of the Outer-Rim to the crammed planets of the Deep Core, artworks and sculptures had come from all over. Pieces from the renowned statues of Donatella to the abstract murals created by none other than Elysar del-Nevarez checkered the walls and floors of the museum lobby, enough to strike awe into any who entered. But Nicolás? He could have cared less.

Who cared about the late “whoever-they-are” de’Giovanni? What mattered about the elaborate, kaleidoscopic illustrations of some dead, age-old starving artist? They had all amounted to nothing more than creating art for other people to gawk at and forget for a moment later. Nicolás, on the other hand, wanted to be more than that. Their paintings might have evolved in value, but their own name? It was nothing but a forgotten epithet. And Nicolás wanted to become a legend, an icon for centuries to come. Not just for the Republic, but particularly for his homeworld, Brentaal. As the bastard to the famed House Cormond, he was always looked down upon, always scorned. But if he rose in power and influence, unlike these mythical artists, then he could rise from the stereotype, from the labels.

That’s why he was meeting with yet another Senator of the Republic. This time the Senator of Chandrila. While he represented a prestigious and well-known planet, the man was as old as the paintings speckled throughout the museum. To boot, he was also another self-righteous politician with a moral compass, as if he could lead the Republic from the maze it was in by that alone. He was caring, loving, and a honest man. Traits that embodied almost everything Nicolás despised in a rival politician, and everything opposite to his own. The only honesty the young man represented was his honesty in sarcasm, in speaking his mind. He lacked a filter between mouth and mind, and often insulted the same people he was meant to befriend. Hopefully, he would not do the same with Terminus Faunus of Chandrila.

He required his help, or at least, a contact in the Senate to help coalesce and construct his influence. If Nicolás ever wanted to regain his position back on Brentaal, he would need to build himself a foundation from which to leap from. Perhaps, if he played his cards and his charm right, Senator Faunus could as well be apart of that very foundation. Of course, Nicolás was not going to just outright ask him for his undying loyalty and fealty then leave. It would be more like a trade, a possible favor for a favor, and the stepping stones to a potentially powerful relationship. In other words, if the young man pushed aside the pleasantries and introductions with Terminus, he might just one day call upon the man for support. And in the Senate, alliances meant everything.

As the Senator of Brentaal caught the older man standing inside one particular exhibit of the museum, he quickly approached him and flashed a friendly smile. “You must be Senator Faunus. It’s an absolute pleasure.” He offered a brief bow with one hand over his chest. “I’m Senator Cormond of Brentaal. But you can call me Nicolás.”

@StratusGold

 

[Terminus Faunus]

Terminus’ black leather dress shoes clicked softly against the large marbled tiles of the museum which spanned across the vast open spaces between each of the great works that people of all ages, races and genders huddled around to see. Some, of course, were far more popular than others. Just one or two of these works could draw in an entire day’s worth of tourists, without them ever actually being in the line of sight of any other art. Terminus hated those kinds of people. He tried not to show it, but oftentimes he simply couldn’t help it when his distaste to those who had the audacity to be so disrespectful toward other artists who have legitimately accomplished more than they possibly ever will, shone through his soft exterior. To this end, Terminus could be found in one of the rear atria of the Coruscant Museum of Arts, his hands clasped behind his back and a datapad tucked under his arm as he casually strolled through the almost empty chamber.

Terminus stopped to more closely inspect the great statue positioned before him, its swirling lines of white and gold perfectly contrasting the haphazard flecks of black. In the corner of his eye, the ageing senator noticed a much younger looking fellow, with long, wavy hair that seemed to have a mind of its own, and a beard which sat precariously on the fence between well groomed and unkempt. That must be Senator Cormond..., he thought as a smile quickly appeared on the younger man’s face and his voice seemed to begin to bellow quietly.

As Senator Cormond introduced himself and did the niceties that this day and age required for you to come across as a respectable gentleman, Terminus returned the favour, “The pleasure is all mine! ... Please, call me Terminus” the senator chuckled. “Now, Nicolás, what was it you wanted to discuss today?”

@Deviant

 

[Nicolás Cormond]

Gawking at antiquated statues and sculptures. Of course, what more could Nicolás have expected from the older Senator? The young man wondered what was going on through the other’s mind. Interest, concern, or even regret. Was he truly observing the elaborate, overblown effigy that loomed above him like most other pretentious know-it-alls? Did he crave to one day have a statue of his own, to stand in these same halls, not only as a piece of marble for a tourist to look at, but an icon that would last for centuries, much like what Nicolás craved? That was why the Senator of Brentaal had come. He wanted to examine, inspect and determine what made the Chandrilan tick. He wanted to pry him open and read him like a peeled book. Because if he knew what Terminus wanted, then he could bend the man to his will.

Nicolás was not above manipulating old men so long as it advanced his own career. Then again, he had not arranged this discreet meeting just so he could play the Senator like a flute or sew in some strings and turn him into a puppet. He knew the old man was no fool. If anything, Nicolás would have to earn the man’s trust with honor and respect, traits he was not exactly used to. The young man always enjoyed brandishing a smile, beguiling his prey with either wit or charm. But the older man would likely be invincible to such parlor tricks. If he wanted to get the man on his side, he needed to sound genuine. Which was also why he continued to maintain that picturesque smile and that friendly tone of voice.

“There are a great many things I’d like to discuss with you, Senator Fau—“ He stopped, and chuckled lightly. “I mean, Terminus.” Head inclined at a dip, almost like he was admitting to the older man with respect, Nicolás continued. “A slew of problems continue to plague the galaxy, as well as the Republic. There is the case of corruption in the Kingdom of Alderaan, then the looming presence of the Exiles, now led by this former Jedi who calls herself Andraste. There is also the strained relationship we hold with the Jedi Order, and the approaching threat of the Hutt Cartel as they trickle through our borders and into our worlds like poison into our veins.”

“I’m sure you understand.” He smiled. Deep down, of course, Nicolás wanted to see how Terminus stood on these issues. He had to see what the man believed in, and then capitalize upon that. “Not to intrude, Senator, but I’m curious onto how you see these various problems. It’s no easy question, I know, so take your time.” Niceties— he hated it, but what more could he do?

@StratusGold

 

[Terminus Faunus]

The elder senator stood there for a short moment, hands clasped loosely behind his back, his eyes moving so quickly that it was as if he were attempting to blink the problems away. We can’t deny these problems, people know that. It’s why they’ve been discussed so f*cking much in meetings and snoore, damn those are boring Terminus had, of course, had his opinions taken before, but the questions had never been so... forward. As with much of politics, the true meaning of questions asked by others was masked behind layers upon layers of assumptions and implications, being played to their advantages. This senator, however, wasn’t trying to his anything. Terminus couldn’t make up his mind whether he liked that in the man or not, Only time will tell, it seems.
“Nicolás, the galaxy is a complex machine, with billions upon billions of moving parts, all delicately intertwined. If one cog, one gear, were to fall out of alignment, then the whole machine breaks for a time... then someone comes along and fixes it. Now, if many large gears were to not only fall out of alignment, but to break away from the machine entirely, what then? Who puts the parts back in their rightful places? Who decides their rightful place?” He sighed, collecting his thoughts, before continuing, “I one day hope to be the man to put the galaxy back together again - piece by piece.” He nodded, as if approving of his own statements to calm himself down. “Alderaan: An unexpected series of events. The investigation into Queen Lucille will be... interesting, to say the least. If no connection is found between the elections and the Hutt Cartel, then we continue with out lives, possibly with a greater trust and respect for Alderaan’s Monarchy. If a connection is found, however, then it’ll just be more screws to pick back up, one at a time. “The Exiles: Cunning and devious. What more is there to say? The Non-Aggression Pact that has been offered to us by their leader, Andraste, could be a political breakthrough for the Core Worlds, but if it falls through it turns out to be a plan to double-cross the Republic in some way, then...” he held up his hands in the universal sign for defeat, before letting them drop back to his sides as he continued, “We must be very careful with how we proceed, while also making sure that we move quickly enough to sure up our weaknesses.
“The Hutt Cartel: A filthy parasite feeding off the prey far outside of our reach. I fear that they could be a heavy hitter if galaxy-wide conflict were to break out once more.” He shrugged, signalling that he didn’t know what else to say on the matter. Terminus had been purposefully ambiguous, for opinions are a large part in what builds up political power, and he wasn’t ready to reveal his cards just yet... but Nicolás might… “And yourself, Senator? I, too, would like to hear your opinions on the matters at hand.”
@Deviant

 

[Nicolás Cormond]

Cogs in a machine. The Senator had a point, a good one, only to throw it away the moment he insisted the removal of one cog would mean the destruction of them all. The man was unbearably naive, at least to Nicolás. To the young man, taking one cog out could instead help, to smooth out the machine, to fix the flaw. Nothing was perfect, and nobody was either, especially in this galaxy. In his opinion, Terminus was both right and wrong. The pieces that fall apart, however, are not meant to be put back. They need to be reshaped or reformed, or a new cog should take its place. That was how Nicolás saw it. That was how he saw the galaxy, and how to make it the well-oiled machine it was meant to be.

The corruption that now grips Alderaan? While Nicolás cared little for the threat of the Cartel, given his previous dealings with the Hutt’s during his time on Brentaal, he knew if Lucille was truly a danger to the Republic, she would have to be deposed. If innocent, no matter. She was still a threat to him and the stability of the Republic with her and her upending of the status quo. And the non-aggression pact with the Exiles? Impossible. Absurd. Andraste was another risk, and she was not only a broken cog. She was covered in rust and mold, an infection that would continue to spread the gears around her until the whole machine was consumed. Those pieces were faulty, and the screws impossible to pick up. They needed to be destroyed, thrown back into the furnace. Perhaps not even replaced at all.

But Nicolás was not looking to reveal his own cards, minor or otherwise, just yet. Making his real opinion known would only endanger his potential relationship with the Senator, who he now saw as a man of compassion and reason— dangerous characteristics in a dangerous time. He would have to tread carefully. Still, there were some things the two could agree on: the survival of the Republic and their individual worlds. Working at that angle, surely, he could gain the man’s trust without a hitch. Despite all of Nicolás’ forethought, there only came a momentary pause after Terminus’ question, followed by his very own, carefully crafted answer. “My opinions vary greatly. They move and evolve along with the people of Brentaal, as I’m sure you well know as an elected politician.”

A lie. While an election and appointment for him was made, Nicolás cared little for the opinions of his people. Because, unsurprisingly, they cared little for him either way. A strange case that Terminus probably wouldn’t understand if he knew, but a case that also made an excellent excuse for flexibility. “As for Andraste’s non-aggression pact, that I can’t say for sure, but I know the woman is not to be trusted. Ever. She might present the Republic with a chance at peace, but I feel that once she hits her peak, she will follow the steps of her predecessors and raze our worlds to the ground—” Of course, Nicolás knew next to nothing about the young Exile woman aside from the fact that she was kinda hot. Perhaps she really did mean peace with the Republic, but how could that possibly benefit him?

As he knew, chaos was a ladder. With war, he could capitalize on the confusion and take back Brentaal for himself, as well as sending its profits through the roof. Not that Terminus would ever know this, though, as Nicolás continued, “—and as Senators, we must look out not only for our people, but for each other. The Republic is strong when united, and we cannot allow this proposal to divide us. That’s why I’m here. To reach out to you. Because we need each other.” He smiled. He wasn’t proposing an alliance just yet, but he was certainly getting there.

@StratusGold

 

[Terminus Faunus]

As the much younger senator spoke, Terminus nodded knowingly. What Nicolás was saying was completely true - Terminus’ political views, and opinions in general, had swung from one side of the political spectrum to the other over his long life, and more so in the past few months since he had taken up office.

“Yes, though while I do trust that she most likely isn’t who she presents herself to the republic to be, we must also understand that she’s human. Surely, her wants and needs do not completely surpass her compassion and logic. Though, who am I to speak about force-sensitives? They may always be a mystery to us - beings who seem to be just like all others in the galaxy, but really their minds are enigmas. However, it seems, there is one thing we do agree on: the Republic is stronger united. One twig alone will shatter easily, but a handful will be resilient and strong. And no matter the hardships, we cannot allow ourselves to splinter”

In his mind, Terminus smirked, his thoughts once again rushing through his mind like blood through an artery.

“We do need one another Nicolás, and I would be happy to work with you much more closely in the future” Terminus paused, appearing to be deep in thought, before continuing, “Would you like to catch lunch some time? Be it today, or another day?” He chuckled, “I can see by your eyes that this place isn’t one that satisfies your need for entertainment, young man”
@Deviant

 

[Nicolás Cormond]

Nicolás stopped himself from flashing the widest grin possible. It looked like he struck a chord with Senator Faunus, but only in the best way. The older man agreed with him on almost every front, from the dangers that the Exiles posed and the risk that came with Andraste’s non-aggression pact. Still, the man seemed to empathize with the woman. Not enough to sympathize with her cause, of course, but enough to see that she was human.

And, surprisingly, he was right. A force-sensitive human was no different from any ordinary human. Nicolás would know. And to hear it from Terminus felt almost reassuring. The older Senator had a heart of gold, even if it was aged, dusty and ready to fail. With how he looked, Nicolás was surprised the man hadn’t dropped dead from a stroke by now. Perhaps he was just overestimating his age, though.

“I completely agree.” He answered, nodding his head with his typical, tamer smile in place. “The Republic must stay together if it wants to survive this maze of obstacles. The Cartel, the Exiles, from domestic issues like disease or growing crime and political divides. The Senate must together. We must work together.” Nicolás glanced over to one of the murals on the wall, as if he was admiring it like Terminus, before moving his attention back to the old man. “And I’m glad you agree too. An alliance, a partnership, between us could just be the start of something new. Two heads, after all, are better than one. Maybe, in time, that could turn to three. Then four. Then a dozen. Until the whole Senate comes to realize the necessity of unity, as you’ve so eloquently said.”

With the man’s latter question and remark, though, Nicolás chuckled. “Alright, you caught me there. Museums are full of meaningful classics and symbolic pieces, but you can say I like to satisfy my body more than I do my intellect. If that makes any sense.” The underlying implications were there, but to the other Senator, all that could be said was that Nicolás was just remarkably famished. “But please, allow me to take you out for lunch. All on me. It’s the least I can do for meeting up with me, as I’m sure you have quite a busy schedule. And it’s also customary— for a friend.” He offered to shake the man’s hand, a sign of their newfound relationship. Whether or not he did, though, Nicolás beckoned him to join his side and to exit the museum.

Before they could leave, however, that was when the alarm resounded. Followed by shots, followed by screams. Down the corridor, men wrapped in armor and armed with blasters suddenly surfaced. And on instinct, Nicolás moved for cover. Who these assailants were, and why they had come, he had no idea. All he knew was that he had to find a way out of the mess— along with Terminus. “Kriffin’ hell.” He murmured aloud, a stark shift in tone from his previously friendly attitude. “There goes lunch.”

@StratusGold

 

[Terminus Faunus]

Terminus chuckled as the man spoke. Every minute that he spoke made him seem more and more of a child to Terminus - a child with huge ambitions and the time and influence to make his dreams come true. Terminus wasn’t sure what to think of that, for only time will tell. “Ah-haha, well, child you may not enjoy this thus far, however in time you will come to understand such a place and see it through wiser eyes” he smiled greatly, tapping the corner of his eye with his right index finger. “Besides, we’ve got a lunch to go to!” He exclaimed, clapping Nicolás on the shoulder and seemingly doing some sort of small dance - a jig, possibly - for a moment.

As the two men were walking toward the grand arch at the front of the building, alarms sounded throughout the building, klaxons screeched, and bright red and white lights flashed blindingly for just a few seconds. Screams followed, of course, as a small group of no more than seven or eight men proceeded to march down the long corridor confidently, brandishing their weapons, as the light streaming in from the large windows reflected off their pristine armour. Feeling an arm tugging at his elbow, Terminus snapped a look at whoever it was, his mind a million miles away, as the situation unfolded. The man turned out to be his new-found friend Nicolás, attempting to pull him out of sight of the gunmen, and hiding behind a large statue of some scholar. Normally, Terminus would’ve been intrigued, but today was quite far from the day-to-day lives of the senators. Huddled behind the statue, Terminus could see others doing similarly around the room, and his fellow senator could be heard cursing aloud - he didn’t blame him. A hush fell over the museum as one of the assailants began to speak, “The situation is simple, fine citizens! Do as we say... and no one is harmed. Understood?”

@Deviant

 

[Nicolás Cormond]

Armed to the teeth, the assailants made their way through the elaborate museum. Nicolás, meanwhile, settled behind the cover of some age-old statue. With a sword in one hand and a book in the other, the sculpture was enough to help hide both Senators. It’s meaning, however, the man cared little for. The matter of the fact was: terrorists or burglars were going through the museum, shooting those they suited. Unlike what Nicolás originally expected, the assailants were not here to ransack the museum of all its worth, to steal the paintings or the fine jewelry. Instead, they were here for a certain someone. Or worse, they were truly terrorists, here to kill as many aimless civilians they could to get word out. Could this really be the state of the Republic?

Nicolás shuddered. The assailants were getting closer. He had to do something. As his eyes wandered above, he noticed an approaching reflection in one of the glass exhibitions: an armored man. Blaster in hand, the stranger spotted one well-dressed nobleman perched behind similar cover. The man smiled. Not long after, a shot rang out through the hall, sending another shudder climbing up the Senator’s spine. Again, the voice from before resounded. “Didn’t you hear me? The situation is simple. Get out of your hiding places, your corners, your guards— and no one is harmed. Was that so hard to understand?” But, Nicolás sensed something else. They were not here to raze and loot and kill aimless people. Perhaps, instead, they were here for someone in particular. Or certain someones.

“Senators, bureaucrats— make yourself known. Come meet your inevitable judgement, and everyone else will not be harmed. That, is a promise.” The voice, again, reiterated, this time far darker and demanding than before. No one is harmed— what a load of shit. Still, it seemed the men were just here for men like Nicolás and Terminus. But that was little thought to find relief in. If he didn’t do something soon, he, along with his newfound ally, would meet a bitter end. But what more could they do other than to make themselves known? Just sit back and watch more innocent people die?

Nicolás eyed one of the assailants seize a young woman and toss her out into the open. A blaster rifle quickly pointed toward her. “We know you’re here. Come into the open, or the girl gets it.” The Senator watched as the young woman cowered, begging for her life. It was an Image all too much for him to bear. He wanted to leap up and save her, but he knew doing so would cost him his life. Instead, he slunk back, just to wait for another moment in a fruitless hope that they were bluffing, and to glance over to Senator Faunus to see what he would do next. Was he going to put his life on the line for the sake of an innocent stranger? That was completely up to him, it seemed.

@StratusGold

 

[Terminus Faunus]

Terminus’ heart ached to reach out toward the young girl, pull her close, wrap his arms around her and never let go, tell her that everything would be alright. In reality, however, it wouldn’t. People were going to die today; have died today. Terminus’ eyes snapped shut and he winced at the unnecessary loss of life that the prestigious museum was plagued with; the bodies of loved ones, young and old, men and women of species heralding from all corners of the galaxy, strewn across the floor disrespectfully.

The elderly senator glanced, fear hard set into his eyes, through the gap between the statues’s legs, catching the gaze of the young girl, and being unable to tear up. He simply couldn’t hold it back any longer: the urge to roll up into a ball, sob, and hold someone close. F*ck it, he thought, the rash decision coming into fruition quicker than his own mind could comprehend.

His legs were shaking; a lump in his throat was forming. It was time to do what was right.

Rounding the corner of the statue carefully, Terminus raised his hands above his head, in the universal sign of surrender, and sighed, a single tear rolling down the cheek closest to Nicolás, it catching the light just so, that it could be clearly seen by his companion. With a broken voice, he began, “She didn’t deserve this, nor did any of these people here today to enjoy the great works of our ancestors, or, should I say, the people that were here...” he paused, the words painful to usher out, “... But I did. Take me, and leave them be.” Terminus wasn’t sure how the assailants would react to such a demonstration. He could feel the eyes of the remaining civilians boring into his skull, analysing his every move. Would the terrorists shoot him the moment they got the chance? Would they betray their deal and shoot the rest of the visitors, anyway? Was Terminus, a man who might just be able to change the course of galactic history, giving away his life, or what was left of it, recklessly?

@Deviant

 

[Nicolás Cormond]

Nicolás watched as the Senator of Chandrila, old and petty as he might be, step from the safety of the statue. The younger man tried to reach out, to pull him back from the apparently terrible mistake, but his fingers came just out of reach. Terminus was making himself known. He was placing his life on the line for the sake of a stranger. Now, if that was not bravery, if that was not true public spirit, then he didn’t know what was. The fact that a man twice his age was choosing to exchange one life for his own stunned Nicolás. And for the first time in a long time, he almost felt ashamed. He was a Senator too, and what was he doing? Sitting back, doing nothing. Watching a newfound friend die. That couldn’t be how this story could end, could it?

To the assailant, it was. Grinning under their visor, the armored man shoved the young woman aside and approached Senator Faunus. Behind him, two other men followed. After the older man made his voice known, the apparent assassin only chuckled. Dark, cold, without fear and remorse. “Take you? Oh, Senator Faunus—“ He answered, revealing that this whole mess was made just to hunt down the man personally. “—I’m not here to take you anywhere other than to the grave.” The man raised his blaster, finished monologuing. It seemed he had been sent to this museum, either on their own accord or by the word of someone else entirely, to kill the Senator of Chandrila. Perhaps to strike fear into the Senate, or maybe out of some aimless grudge against the Republic. The reason didn’t matter though. Only the result.

And the result was that Nicolás would be damned to see Terminus fall. And before the assailant could fire, they were met with the full force of a stone blade. Ripped out from the grip of the statue they had been hiding under, Nicolás leapt out of nowhere to attack the man. The antique sword easily met the attacker before they could fire, but given its age and frailty, the blade did not cut past his armor. Although it made an excellent blunt weapon, smashing across the man’s visor to send them sprawling into the floor, unconscious. And the Senator, now with half a stone sword, continued through the motion. Throwing the broken blade, it crashed into the second assailant and shattered into a hundred pieces. That force alone was also enough to send them into the ground. But the third attacker? They were too far, and Nicolás was without a weapon.

His eyes met the end of a blaster. Now, it seemed, his own act of bravery would be met with an end he feared before. At least, if his newfound ally did nothing about it.

@StratusGold

 

[Terminus Faunus]

As Nicolás leaped out from hiding, wielding an archaic weapon in his hands, the two nearest assailants crashed to the ground in a thin haze of rubble. Terminus breathed a small sigh of relief. He, the girl and Nicolás were all safe, thankfully. He started to move towards the girl, pick her up and tell her it would be okay, but he was stopped in his tracks before he could even take a step. The third assailant, oh how could he have so recklessly forgotten about the third, cocked his blaster and aimed it toward the two men. Terminus ran the options through his mind quickly. There weren’t many available to him.

He closed his eyes and took a deep breath. The man was only a few metres away, blaster aimed and ready. Terminus considered his chances once more, before leaping towards the attacker. A weak arm caught the blaster pistol and attempted to force it to the ground, away from the rest of the hostages. But the man was stronger than Terminus... a lot stronger. The two struggled for a moment, wrestling the weapon between themselves, before Terminus paused. A cool metal cylinder could be felt pressed against his abdomen.

Two shots rang true, as subsequent bolts ripped through his body. The area fizzled and burned, felt like fire, and as if someone was tearing a hole through his stomach with their bare hands. The old man collapsed to the ground, clutching his abdomen and wincing from the pain as the man rushed to the door, clearly knowing that the situation at the museum was no longer under his control. Quick, sharp breaths followed as his body reeled from the pain. He peeled a frail hand from where it had been compressing the wound, and only found it to be caked in blood and gore.

The world went black.
@Deviant

 

[Nicolás Cormond]

Time seemed to careen to stop. Everything was now a blur, and at the same time, so clear. One second, Nicolás was facing down the barrel of a blaster and the third assailant. In the next, he watched as Senator Faunus leapt into action, much to his surprise, and attempted to rip the blaster away. However, the older man soon found himself now at its end, and this time, there was nothing the young man could do. The blaster fired, point blank into his abdomen. Terminus soon fell to the ground, sprawled over the polished floors now stained with a trace of his blood. Several of the hostages screamed in shock. But Nicolás? He didn’t stand around in shock. He was furious. Beyond it, even.

The young man charged ahead, also catching the third assailant off guard. His strikes and attacks were merciless, consistent. Subconsciously, the Senator fed onto his own reserves of the Force, hiding them beneath each coiled fist and each punch. Even with all the man’s armor, Nicolás left various dents, breaking several bones in the process. The terrorist stood no chance, and soon he also collapsed into the floor. But the young man wasn’t done there. The moment he now loomed over the attacker, he brought the heel of his foot hard. Not to smash their head in, but to snap his neck with a savage crack. Once the man was dead, Nicolás quickly moved to Senator Faunus, desperate to ensure he was alive and well. This wasn’t supposed to happen. It couldn’t.

One of his hands clutched at the older man’s wound as the other held his face. “Terminus? Terminus, no. Stay with me here. You’re going to be fine, it’s going to be fine.” He murmured, trying to remain optimistic when all hope had now faded. They had only just met. Exchanged pleasantries, become allies and friends. Now? He was a dying heap. “Senator Faunus, please— I still owe you lunch. You can’t kriffin’ go.” The Senator looked up, just as the Coruscant police force stormed in along with paramedics, who quickly whisked Terminus away. Whether he would live or die, Nicolás did not know. And for some reason, he didn’t want to know, because he feared only the worst.

“What have I done?” He whispered, already regretting their whole meeting. All the while, flashes of light from ambulances or other enforcers bathed the museum interior. Men and women rushed by him in a flurry of movement, a blur. Nicolás stepped away. Well, he knew now the older man probably wouldn’t be going to his upcoming party anytime soon.

End Thread.​