Foreshadowing: The Child of the Ocean

[Raif]

Royston Spektor strode briskly through the halls of The School, a secure interrogation facility that was known to only a handful of beings in the galaxy. He had a serious look on his face - not that uncommon for a serious facility like this, but it would look very out of place for anyone that knew Royston at all. There was no spark of mischief in his eye, no barely-there twitch at the corner of his mouth as if he was barely able to suppress a grin.

Today, he didn't look jovial; he looked like a man on a mission...and not a particularly enjoyable one at that.

Thankfully, he didn't have to interact with a single living being. At least not yet. His status as not only the Head of the Ubiqtorate but also a member of the Dark Council had meant it was relative child's play to arrange so that this particular wing of the Facility was abandoned for a brief, undetectable 5 minute window.

His status as a brilliant spy blessed with genius-level technical ability has meant it was also relative child's play to hide his tracks. He didn't need anyone digging into what exactly he was doing here, after all.

His walking stick tap-tap-tapped along as he walked in otherwise total silence, finally stopping in front of a non descriptor blast door. The Spymaster telekinetically tapped in the security code to make the door whoosh open, then stared for a moment at the sole occupant that had just been revealed.

The Jedi sat restrained to a slightly-reclined medical exam chair, the likes of which were common in dental-cleaning facilities across the galaxy. He was slight of build, with lightly-tanned skin, light brown hair and a shadow of scruffy facial-hair growing in as a result of his captivity. At his wrists and ankle were industrial-grade stun-cuffs, and around his brow was tightly clamped a neural inhibitor - designed to give an electric shock to prevent the concentration necessary to utilize the Force, this device had proven invaluable for keeping Jedi, Sith, and everything in between...calm.

Royston blinked once, then allowed his serious expression to melt into a friendly grin before he spoke.

"It's your lucky day, Mr. Jedi. You're coming with me."

 

[Elijah Brockway]

"Not to rain on your parade, sir, but at the moment I'm really not capable of going anywhere," Cotan replied, looking over to where Royston stood in the doorway. "Of course, recent events have made me rather leery of cooperating with a Sith anyways, which I have no reason to believe you aren't, so there's that too." He fiddled around in his restraints for a moment, and sighed. He'd gotten tired of being locked up even without his body being restrained to a chair. Now that he was stuck in a chair, in a rather featureless, blank room...it was even worse.

They wouldn't even let him feed himself.

"You know, if you let me go I might be more willing to talk. Key word might."

 

[Raif]

"Are you kriffing with me, kid?"

Roy looked at the Jedi with an amused grin on his face, twirling his walking stick in one hand as he took a step into the cell and allowed the door to close behind him.

"I say I'm taking you out of this Hutt-hole, and you give me lip? And now you're haggling with me?"

Roy laughed, genuinely amused. The kid didn't lack for guts, he had to acknowledge that much at least.

"Ok, let me explain to you how this is going to work: I'm taking you out of this room, and you're going to keep your mouth shut and do what I say, got it?"

The package in the breast pocket of Roy's suit seemed to press into his chest, just begging to be used. Not yet, though. Soon, but not yet.

Roy stepped closer, his walking stick once again coming to a rest at his side as he now stood right next to the Jedi's restraints. He waited to hear the response before he began removes the stun cuffs.

 

[Elijah Brockway]

"And how long until you say I can open my mouth, only for you to pull a breath mask out of one of your pockets while the room pumps full of anesthetics?" Cotan asked, narrowing his eyes. "I've been captured by the Sith once. I know better than to trust a single one of them at face value. So how about you let me out, tell me your plan, and we'll see whether or not I'll be willing to work with you." He knew, locked down as he was, that if Royston decided to do anything he had no way to defend himself, and that even if he was freed he'd probably still have no way to defend himself, but that didn't matter much. He would either stall for time until somebody else could come and get this man out of here.

Or, at the very least, tell Cotan who he was, which would be important. Because Cotan doubted that the man he was speaking to would freely give his name.

"Oh, while I'm sure you already know this, my name's Cotan. What's yours, mysterious benefactor of mine?"

 

[Raif]

Royston held his forehead in one hand, eyes squeezed shut as if he was fighting off an on-rushing migraine.

"You're brave, kid, I'll give you that."

Roy's hand moved, fast as greased lightning, and seized the syringe from his pocket. Faster than you could blink he had the needle plunged into Cotan's neck and the plunger depressed, sending a powerful sedative into the Jedi's bloodstream.

"But you're also just a bit annoying, and I don't have time for this."

The drugs would be kicking in, but Cotan wouldn't quite have lost consciousness at this point. He would be able to see the man quickly begin removing the restraints, muttering under his breath as he did.

I can't believe this, I'm going to have to carry this schutta out of here like a sack of bantha poodoo, he's going to pay for my dry cleaning after this, ugh he stinks..."

 

[Elijah Brockway]

After Cotan found himself being jabbed with a needle and heard Royston complaining about him being annoying, he almost sighed.

Kidnapped again...Truly, the Force must love me, if I'm going to become part of a game for the Sith, he thought, before slipping into unconsciousness.

 

[Raif]

Once Cotan was fully unconscious, Royston finished with removing the restraints and then withdrew the Nueral Inhibitor. Laying his fingertips lightly on the Jedi's forehead, the Sith Lord closed his eyes slightly.

He scrubbed the young man's memories, removing not only the specifics of the last few minutes but also of the last few months. His knowledge of Royston, The School, and Geist Weiss would be erased.

The Spymaster then lifted the other man onto his shoulder, carrying the limp form with Force-assisted speed out of the cell and ultimately out of the facility entirely.

---

They were safely away on Roy's ship, The Doppelgänger, with the Spymaster engrossed in concentration at a data terminal while the Jedi slept peacefully in a sedative-induced coma on a bed in the living area.

Roy's eyes stared at the screen, a window open for a simple anonymous-holonet-chat site. He was anxious, waiting for a response that he worried may not be coming any time soon. This method of communication wasn't exactly the most efficient or fool-proof, after all.

Despite the nerves, though, Roy remained mostly confident in his plan and his abilities; he'd been doing this sort of thing for a long time, after all. And so despite how hair-brained the scheme might initially seem, Royston was confident that the message he had anonymously posted to the holonet would ultimately find its way to its intended recipient. After all, if the woman he was looking for was half intelligent as she had seemed back on Anoth, then the words that Roy had chosen would be sure to catch her attention.

Spoiler: The Message

To The Child of the Ocean,

I am so sorry that our dance was prematurely interrupted - the Anoth Waltz is my favorite, and we never made it to the good part. Also, I found a stray cat that I think may belong to you, his name is Cotan; he looks like you may have been missing him for some time now. Please, let's arrange a meet so that I can return your pet, and who knows? Maybe we can finish that dance.

Sincerely,
Tired of it All

 

[TweedPawn]

She was in one of her many glittering places of refuge. This one was one of her more sparsely decorated lofts, however. The coordinates were not given out, not even to those who asked to bring her home for a quick tumble in the sheets. She was in her night dress, a long satin affair that afforded her comfort as the planet she was on was in the midst of summer. Her flat had windows to tease a breeze in.

It was possibly one of the only locations that did not house some obscure artifact or remnant. It was wonderfully comfortable. She was enjoying the lights of the city with a good martini by her side. The sweet smells of summer wafted through translucent curtains. She looked ethereal.

Then she got a strange message. She frowned. Her former dance partner had found a way to reach her. Further confirming her beliefs that he had not been some ordinary sith that fought her. Furthermore, he was requesting a meet up. An important one.

She hardened her heart at first. A trap. It had to be. That poor jedi was so stuffed with detonators that he was lighting up like a decorated tree. But the Force then whispered to her. She softened. Her heart felt sympathy for him.

Something must have been different. Something changed, but she wasn't sure what it could have been.

she responded with one simple message: her location.

She would wait for him, with a martini just for him.

 

[Raif]

Roy was a bit shocked, to be honest. He had been expecting this little game of chat-and-mouse to go on for some time, as he slowly worked toward convincing the woman that he was safe to meet with in person.

The Spymaster frowned for a second, mentally chastising himself that he had just felt a moment of sadness that he didn't put off more of a dangerous vibe. He then shook his head, ridding himself of these distracting thoughts as he got to work. He plotted the coordinates for the jump to the Jedi's location, kept his little buddy on a chemically-induced journey through Happy Dreams Ville, and then caught as much meditative rest as he could. It had been extremely hard to come by since Anoth, and annoyingly wasn't any easier after his most recent 'chat' with Vica, either.

---

The Spymaster, dressed in warm-weather attire consisting of shirtsleeves rolled up above his elbows, linen slacks, and an unbuttoned waist coat, stared in a bit of chagrin at the high-end apartment building there before him and his 'friend.' Roy leaned his weight forward on the handles of the wheelchair in front of him, speaking under his breath to his companion seated in front of him.

"This is...not what I was expecting..."

Roy' friend didn't answer, because it was the Jedi - Cotan - and he was unconscious. However, he had on a large floppy hat and reflective sunglasses, giving the appearance of a medically-impaired summer reveler that had perhaps had a bit too many rum shooters.

There was no reason Roy couldn't try to find a bit of humor here and there, right?

Glancing about somewhat nervously, the Sith Lord took a deep breath to center himself, making sure his Force presence was concealed as always, before pushing the wheelchair forward and walking towards what would appear to an awful lot of people to be treason.

Royston found his way easily enough to the Jedi woman's quarters, seriously considering just letting himself in. He could do it, but he thought better of it. Breaking and entering wasn't the best way to start a meeting of this kind, after all.

So instead, he just knocked loudly on the door to her loft. Given that his Force presence had been concealed, this would likely be her first notice that he was there - unless she had him under surveillance, which was an absolute possibility.

"Special delivery for a 'Madame Murielle Ooh.' Wait, is that pronounced 'Oh?' Or is it Tanaabian - 'Eeh?' The O's silent, right?'

Roy chuckled to himself as he shouted through the door. At some point in the past week or two - he couldn't be sure exactly when - he just may have cracked up a bit.

That was a bad sign. He had barely begun this journey; he couldn't afford to let the pressure get to him now. With that thought in mind, he tried his best to get himself together while the Jedi woman hopefully came and let him in.

 

[TweedPawn]

She could sense when there were others outside her door. She opened a security panel with a camera view to see a familiar face with some poor bloke in a wheelchair. She hesitated. There was the possibility of a trap laid out for her. After Anoth, nothing was quite what it seemed.

Her perfectly manicured nails graced the control panel, considering just closing it and leaving the man standing outside. Instead, Murielle pulled her lightsaber towards her, ready in case of a fight, and used her other hand to wave the door open.

The sight of the stolen jedi caused pity in her heart.

"Dear, the poor thing. He looks like someone's incapable uncle. For pity's sake, couldn't you have found someother method? You seemed talented enough. "

Indeed, there was something about the way The Sith moved and blended around himself that caused Murielle to realize that she wasn't dealing with some ordinary darksider. She was too clever to not notice. He dressed too nicely, was too talented with the Force, had too much confidence, spoke a little too much. Yes, Murielle understood that this was a man who held a position.

"Lay him on the couch. There is much for you and I to discuss." she said, ready in case an attack was to be sprung.

 

[Raif]

"Well I wasn't expecting our meeting to be in quite such an...intimate location."

Roy gave the wheelchair-bound Jedi a good shove, letting him roll slowly but uncontrolled toward the couch.

"As for his get up, well, Madame, it's a wonderful thing; most sentients see someone like him and pay lots of attention...but they rarely give more than a glance or two to the being pushing the chair. It's called hiding in plain sight, and it's something of a specialty of mine."

Roy grinned, waving his hand lazily toward the wheelchair just before it careened into the living room furniture. Instead of knocking the unconscious former-captive onto the ground in a heap, the chair came to a slow, telekinetically-assisted stop and then the man himself lifted gently from the chair, coming to rest on the couch like a babe in swaddling clothes.

While he'd been busy running his mouth and 'showing off,' Roy's eyes and mind had been hyper-busy. He'd intentionally come to this little meeting without his lightsaber, not wishing to provoke a violent reaction on the part of his host, but he was already regretting that choice. Without his weapon handy, he couldn't help but glance around quickly towards everything he could see: knife set, martini shaker, bottle opener, fire poker - any of these household goods could be utilized by the Spymaster as an improvised weapon if things deteriorated to that point.

He really, really hoped it wouldn't devolve to having to defend himself with cutlery, however.

Now that the incapacitated Jedi male was dealt with and no longer a concern, Royston turned his full attention and stare on his 'host.'

Murielle Oe. It hadn't taken him long for him to piece together the 'mystery' of her identity after their last meeting; having access to pre-Coruscant Jedi records, combined with an eidetic memory, made things of that nature much easier for Royston than most beings.

The Spymaster stared at the Sagemistress, his eyes intent and locked on her own. He broke the gaze after a moment or two when he realized that his mind was becoming clouded by unnecessary and distracting thoughts.

She is striking, this woman...but I have to stay focused. This is more important - vitally more important - than just a romp in the sheets.

"You're right of course, Madame, we do have much to discuss. First of all, though, I want to say this: I'm glad you made it out of that hell hole in one piece."

The last time Roy had seen this woman, not long ago at all, had been in the dusty desert of Anoth. Something within Roy had snapped during their fight, and the Spymaster had just turned and walked away, pointing her in the direction of her best chance at safe escape. In the hours and days since then, Roy had pieced together everything that was swirling around in his mind and come to a very difficult decision.

That decision had set into motion a series of events that could have far-reaching consequences, and this meeting with Murielle was just the first of those events.

"Secondly, before we get down to the boring stuff...I find that rescuing your friend there -"

Roy again waved casually toward where Cotan was unconscious on the sofa, snoring softly and completely oblivious to what was happening around him.

"- has given me something of a thirst. Would you be so kind as to direct me toward the nearest libation?"

Royston could feel his groove coming back, the familiarity of having been in this situation before - well, not this exact situation, of course, but similar enough - allowing him to operate more on instinct, and get out of his own confused mind for a moment or two.

 

[TweedPawn]

She watched him very closely. Her expression remaining stoic as she watched the jedi safely get dumped onto her sofa. At least he was reasonably all right. He was like looking at a poor old stray dog. Pathetic, yet endearing.

A specialty. Yes, that was something that would be easy to note of her guest. One simply did not just walk out of a sith camp with a Jedi prisoner. Yet, she could tell he was unarmed. Being unarmed did not mean harmless. Many had fallen prey to "harmless" Force Users. Why was he really here anyhow?

She did not know what to say. She had assumed that he was a dead man for allowing her to escape. He had been confused then, and he was certainly confused now. Or perhaps his superior had prompted him to finish the job.

Murielle gracefully motioned towards the second martini glass on the table. There was a gentle glow in the room caused by outdated lamps and antiques. It was almost like meeting by candle light, yet wires ran through the lights.

"I made it in anticipation of your arrival. It rather traditional. An old recipe from a planet that has just recently discovered space travel. It was like finding a time capsule. A sip is like drinking the ambrosia of time." She encouraged her guest.

"and I noticed that you have discovered one of my many names. Interesting. You are no ordinary sith."

 

[Raif]

Roy raised his eyebrows in appreciation for the offered martini; he hadn't had one in ages, but now seemed like the perfect moment to indulge.

He raised the glass to his lips, assuring himself it was free of toxins before taking a sip and savoring the taste.

"That's actually quite good. This planet you mention, would that happen to be where you found that peculiar music machine of yours?"

Roy raised his eyebrow over the rim of his glass as he took another sip.

"It's quite an ingenious little contraption. I promise, I'll have it returned to you...as soon as I finish reverse-engineering it and selling it for millions."

Royston smiled broadly as Murielle brought up how he had figured out her identity, but it soured slightly as she finished he sentence.

"Yes, well, I think you will come to find that there is very little about me that is ordinary, especially in regards to my Order."

Roy took another sip that quickly turned into a mouthful, and just like that his glass was empty when he set it back down.

"I'm surprised you're not more inquisitive, Madame Oe. I know your name, I know where you live, but you know nothing about me."

Royston glanced curiously at the woman, taking time through this topic of conversation to prepare himself for what was to come.

 

[TweedPawn]

" I haven't had the chance to visit it personally. But it has been a pet project. The guests we have are very selective about who gets to be privy. The natives had terrible experiences with galactics."

She watched him. Observing the expressions on his face and how swiftly they changed. She sipped her drink much more slowly. She reached for the mixer and poured Royston another glass.

"I have been curious. But I have been going on a hunch about you. You dress remarkably well. Your manners betray your confidence. I recall your skills in the Force and combat. You are resourceful. You found me easily. Which tells me that my inquiries would be fruitless. For someone as skilled at finding, is excellent at keeping himself hidden."

She finally smiled, though briefly.

"Which means that my prodding could simply be a waste of time. Though I am very curious."

There would be a long moment of silence. The faint sounds of the city reached the loft, carried by the balmy air.

"But I only need to see the face of a man to understand when he is burdened. And you must be burdened greatly to seek someone who serves the Jedi. Tell me your troubles."

Her presence was firm, flowing over Royston like the tide over land. Her patience would be calming. A great soothing force to baptize. It would be serenity. It was acceptance. This was a safe place.

 

[Raif]

Royston accepted the second martini with a small smile, pacing himself this time as he sipped the drink. He raised the glass toward the woman in mock salute, muttering a quiet "thank you" as the Jedi complimented him.

When she paused, he didn't jump to fill the conversational gap with his own words. Instead, he just looked out the window at the city below, listening to the sounds of life nearby.

Tell me your troubles...

He let the words hang there for a minute, allowing himself time to reflect on all of the myriad troubles that he was currently dealing with. Where to start?

"I'm an old man, Madam Oe; older than I look, at least. And I realized, in the midst of our previous 'dance,' that I have dedicated so much of my life to a cause...a cause which I no longer recognize. Of course, a being like me, with the colleagues I surround myself with - such a crisis of conscience isn't exactly something I can idly chat about at the water cooler."

Royston took another sip of his martini, then turned to fully face the beautiful woman currently serving as his host.

"What I'm about to tell you...it's information that could make you a legend among your peers. I'm hoping I judged you correctly, though, in that you'll honor my wish that we keep this information between us for the time being. You, me, and Sleeping Beauty over there."

Roy waved in the general direction of Cotan, still sleeping and now drooling a bit on the couch. He was grinning, but the mirthful expression was short lived and his face soon resumed its serious look.

"My name...is Royston Spektor. I doubt your Order will have much tied to that name, aside from perhaps a brief appearance during the Battle of Saleucami...where, incidentally, I helped assure one Miss Ebberla Daw would be freed from captivity. I would ask you to tell the Grandmaster 'hello' on my behalf, but that would ruin all of this secrecy, wouldn't it?"

Royston turned from the window, keeping his whistle whetted via the martini as he paced back and forth.

"An even more closely-guarded secret than my name, believe it or not, is my title: Darth Tarak, Spymaster of the New Sith Imperium and trusted member of the Empress' Dark Council."

As Roy spoke he reached out via the Force to make sure there were no recording devices hidden away nearby. He really didn't want a holo of this conversation showing up on the Net.

"However, I no longer feel that I can follow that woman with blind loyalty, watching as she grows more and more dangerous; not just to you and your kind, Madame Jedi, but to the galaxy as a whole."

Roy stared intently at Murielle, taking in every physical and emotional sign he could see of the woman as she digested the information he'd just supplied her. There was no way for him to really know how she would react; there wasn't exactly a lot of precedent for barging into a woman's apartment and revealing that you were, in fact, one of the highest-ranking members of the Order that had been mercilessly hunting and killing her and her friends for over a decade.

There was a first time for everything, though.

 

[TweedPawn]

She had remained silent as she took in the information that was spoken to her. She felt conflicted. There was a conflict of emotions within. Part of her wanted to turn him in and make him see the consequences of his past actions. The room around them seemed to react to her. It seemed to close in and become distorted, even as she remained perfectly still.

She then recalled her humanity. This man was coming to her for help, and he must have been desperate if he was seeking her instead of his fellow sith. The room stopped its turning and twisting, looking as if nothing had changed at all. She recalled her calling. It wasn't just to seek the most rare of antiques, or the most elusive of knowledge. It was to help others. And there would be no one in greater need than a Sith in a crisis of loyalty.

"Yes, she is quite dangerous. I am surprised that you are not fearful of your life at this moment. For her reach is great, and her spies are many, as I am sure you know. Just by meeting me, you would have been punished. So, Spymaster of the Sith Imperium, what shall you do now? Where shall you go?"

She waved for another bottle of gin and vermouth to float to her. She mixed another drink.

"My duties ask for my humanity to triumph. And luckily for you, my humanity is a part of who I am. I thought just briefly of turning you in. Making you stand trial for those who died under your ruthless pursuit of us. But I see that you need me, Royston. And I will do what I must."

 

[Raif]

Royston couldn't help but scoff at Murielle's suggestion that he was in danger. He grinned even more broadly at the woman over the rim of his martini glass, the alcohol he'd consumed effectively loosening him up a bit.

"If, by some infinitesimally small chance our little rendezvous here were to be found out by the wrong people, I can simply say that my goal here was simply to seduce you, and then turn you unwittingly into my pawn."

He raised one eyebrow, a twinkle in his eye.

"Other than that, I am reasonably confident that the Empress is too blinded by her belief that she has me properly wrapped around her warped little finger to ever question her authority."

Where shall you go?

Roy lowered his glass a bit, a look of genuine confusion on his face.

"Go? My dear, I think you've misunderstood me. Do you think I'm throwing myself upon the mercy of your organization, hoping you'll take me in like that stray dog, Derisma?"

The Spymaster huffed.

"I have no intention of going anywhere, and why would I? I, perhaps more than any other being in this galaxy, am perfectly positioned to weaken, and perhaps destroy, that woman."

His eyes locked on Murielle's.

"But - despite appearances - I am not quite so full of myself to think that I could do anything alone. I will need allies, and perhaps friends, if what I'm envisioning is to work. Powerful, well-connected allies who share my desire to see stability brought to the galaxy...and perhaps more..."

Royston didn't elaborate on what he meant by more, nor would he if pushed. There was enough going on at the moment; it was not the right time. He smiled at her, almost shyly, as she spoke again.

"It is for your humanity that I sought you out - for the fact that you saw me as something other than the evil, monstrous fairy tale that so many of your kind believe mine to be. Even in the midst of everything, there was a...an openness, a fairness about you."

Royston took another sip from his glass, glad to see that he showed no sign of the electric, jittery energy that was running through him as he spoke. It wouldn't exactly project the right image if he was shaking so bad that he spilled his drink, after all.

"Unlike to many Jedi and Sith, you appear to have that oh-so-rare of gifts, Madame Oe: an open mind. And that, if nothing else, is why I came to you this evening."

Impromptu, passionate speeches of this nature were just one of the many side effects of being around Royston Spektor. If Murielle was going to be spending any time with him, she'd better get used to it.

 

[TweedPawn]

She remained quite serious. Knowing full well what the Empire was capable of finding out. He had sith arrogance, that was for sure. Too much time spent at the top of the pack. He did not realize how to act now that he was getting lower on the food chain. He spoke of allies, where should they come from? The Empress had done terrible things with great power, she was capable of anything.

So, what did Royston expect of Murielle? She had her hunches, but certainly he realized that Murielle loved her Order too much to abandon it. But would helping Royston be considered such a fate? Ebberla Daw seeemed to have friends in strange places. Was Murielle so different with her strange friends full of money. Besides, a Spymaster now knew one of Murielle's aliases. He knew a flat. He knew how to find her. What would that mean for her safety if she refused?

She could sense his excitement. It was radiating off from him like particles of dust. There was so much he was telling her. He had yet to try to kill her, the thought of danger was in her mind. He seemed too calm and relaxed. He was allowing himself to be too easily read. He was really wanting her help.

"I am flattered."

Her eyes were graceful. They moved to look through her flat. Her hands gently traced the outlines of her glass.

"But outside the Order, I am merely a socialite. A girl with a hobby involving antiques. You however,"

She was choosing her words carefully. She understood how to speak to men like Royston. How to coax them in order to have them reveal more of themselves. She needed to relax him. She had to know if there was anything hidden in his intentions.

"have made actions that affected us all. Certainly, there could have been others more open minded than myself?" She found the room too quiet now that there were others here. A gentle motion of her fingers turned on a gentle recording of a quiet piano.

"I won't put you into the cold; I will gladly listen to you. What are you up to?" She was already pouring Royston a third serving of Martini.

 

[Raif]

Royston watched her make his third drinking, allowing the corner of his mouth to rise in a slight grin. He assumed she was trying to get him good and liquored-up, in the hope that he would eventually become incapacitated from the alcohol.

How cute.

Royston Spektor was a professional, after all; a professional spy, and a professional drinker. There wasn't enough alcohol in her entire building, let alone her flat, to get him passed-out drunk. Roy knew - he'd tried several times to reach that goal over the past several days, and had failed each time.

"Perhaps there are members of your Order that are well-suited to what I have in mind; by all means, if you know of individuals who fall into that category, and whom can be trusted, then I would love to meet them."

What he'd just said sounded ludicrous, but it was the truth.

"You see, madame, despite your self-described socialite lifestyle outside of the Jedi, it is what you can do from within the Jedi that is what will be key."

Roy took one last sip of his second martini, hopefully just in time to receive his third from Murielle. If she wanted to give away her liquor - vodka, not gin in this instance - then Roy would be happy to oblige.

"I believe - and have believed for most of my life - that the concept of Light and Dark sides of the Force is a completely man made structure. I think, no matter what you or I call ourselves, it is what we do with the Force that defines us. What I am proposing, this alliance for the future of the galaxy as a whole, could be a huge step in finally putting an end to this pointless war that our sides have been waging for millenia."

Roy's face grew more somber for a moment.

"I also believe, having rather intimate detail of exactly what the Empress has become, that it will take some sort of unified effort to stop her."

 

[TweedPawn]

"Yes, we are tired of this war as well." Murielle said quietly. How many had been killed? Murielle could barely keep track. But how much could Royston blame on the Empress before accepting responsibility for his own actions? He would have to come to terms with that. Murielle gazed out to her old friend, the moon that hung over the great city she was in.

"I don't know, Roy. You are not the first to make such an undertaking. We would certainly help you, if we can. But who amongst the Sith will follow you? Even the most fierce enemies of the Empire have had trouble finding help."

Now she took a sip of her martini. Her troubles weighing on her.

"I could have lost my life on Anoth. Many did. Perhaps, by your very planning. You spared me, though. Which is why I am listening to you. What you say is almost impossible to accomplish, almost."

The air would be silent and heavy, like moments before a storm. Yes, there had been many scenarios like this one before. One mighty Empire felled by a single person. Murielle wasn't sure it would be Royston. But maybe he could provide the vessel needed for this war to end. But who was she to say it wouldn't be him? But the odds were not in their favor.

"I have hesitations."