The Old Guard's Tears

[TAC]

Theme

That hour was a dark one.

The hour when the Galactic Alliance fell to the New Sith Imperium...

When the Jedi's backs were turned...

And when the Sith won.​

But the hour hadn't stopped there. The hour bled in to two, and those two hours into an entire day. And that day multiplied, slowly, into a week. A whole week had come to pass since the Galactic Alliance had felt it's death blow. The hallow remnants of Coruscant no longer claimed their majesty, the dominance they had once enjoyed. The left torn, ruined, a monument to the destruction that the world had seen with the falling of the Galactic Alliance. And even with all of that, it was far from over.

The era of the New Sith Imperium had just begun.

Around the galaxy, the remnants of the Galactic Alliance armed themselves. Prepared for the individual onslaught now that their combined defense had been virtually destroyed. It would be futile- they all knew it. But there was a hope just beyond the horizon, a need to stand and defend themselves in the face of this threat. So stand they would, and fall they would.

Somewhere in the mid-rim, far from the advancing lines of the Sith, a woman sat in a small apartment. The small living quarters did not see regular usage- but rather, was a place for those who needed it most to stop, and even hide. Few knew about it, and even fewer knew who inhabited it when they did. The woman was dressed like any other common woman might- a simple white shirt, jeans. A blaster hung on a holster at her hip, though, and a fountain of red hair sprawled down her back.

She had been on Coruscant, during those final hours. Had seen it.

It was horrible.​

Now, though, she simply sat. A warm mug of something delicious- although nonalcoholic- sat on the table. Her right hand was curled around it, her eyes glued to the HoloNet News. Images of a burning temple, a destroyed world, and a fleeting hope plagued her. Around her, a young boy of five years old ran around her stool and the table. He was the next generation of what she was- the old guard. Those that recognized the destruction that the Sith wrought. Those that didn't need to watch it on the HoloNet to understand it, but did anyways. She was an Imperial Knight.

And not only an Imperial Knight, but the second in command of that organization.

She was the Duchess of Arabanth.

Mother of Caleb Fel.

Defend of the True Throne.



But today, she was a woman with a tear in her eye.​

 

[Galavant]

It all seemed surreal to Enfali as she stepped into the main room of the apartment from where she'd been sleeping. She'd slept a lot in the past week, letting her injuries heal, and everything was still fuzzy. For the most part she was whole again, although her arm still felt a little tender, and the areas where she'd been burned hurt to touch. She was dressed in something akin to long sleeve pajamas with a robe over them both dark grey in color, and her hair was a mess, not that anyone was really going to care at the moment.

Entering the room, she saw the woman who had saved her life, and who's name escaped her, a small boy who vaguely remembered seeing a few times, and images on the holonet of the hell she'd escaped from. Seeing the burning temple on the screen made her shiver outwardly, and think of the transport she'd left that temple on, and that horrible feeling of falling from the sky. And she'd been lucky. How many Jedi hadn't made it off Coruscant? For that matter how many soldiers, criminals, parents, children, pets, and any other living thing had perished? Everything she'd known for most of her life was dead on that planet, buried under the rubble of buildings had stood for centuries if not millenia.

She cleared her thoughts with a shake of her head, averting her gaze from the holonet as she walked to the small kitchen area. She felt like she hadn't eaten any real food for days. Reaching into one of the cabinets, she grabbed a package of whatever. It was some sort of assortment of nuts, baked goods, and chocolate dusted with salt. She took a seat at the table a little bit down from the red haired woman and started snacking. She didn't say anything though. She didn't know what there was too say, really.

It was all just so surreal. And perhaps the most surreal thing of all was that they were Imperial Knights. That much she remembered pretty distinctly. And now, so was she.

 

[Lavi]

Her mother was unpacking groceries as Marisa approached her. The aged mother's silvery, Echani hair was untied and loosely draped around her shoulders as her pale hands handled cans of food. Marisa considered helping put away the groceries, reaching for the bag on the table. But she turned cold when she saw that her hand was already gripping an item. She unwilling took steps towards her mother, raising the knife in her hand. Sweat was beading down her face as Marisa told herself to stop: fighting the urge to stab her unaware mother. She wanted to give a warning, but not even a noise escaped her lips. With a stroke of luck, her mother turned to look at her, just as the knife closed in on flesh.

Marisa jolted awake from where she was curled up on the couch with a loud gasp of air. The dream was one that played out similarly a multitude of times, with the exception of her mom looking back. Her pondering was interrupted by the HoloNet newsfeed, to which Marisa only emitted a sigh. The fall of Coruscant meant the Alliance's back was broken, although the war was not yet over. She remembered that she was still wearing her black infiltration garb, having been scouting around for half of the previous night. Although not form fitting, there was also nothing loose about her attire.

Wiping her sweat away with one arm, Marisa checked her corner of the room to ensure that her collapsed bow and quiver of arrows were where she left them before getting off the couch and over towards the kitchen. The other two women there looked like they were in shock, which caused her to pause for a moment. It was a sight that did not happen very often, though she attributed it to something in regards to the Force.

"Mellow, ah? Is this not what happens in war?" she commented, reaching to grab some of Enfali's snack. Of course, Marisa never actually fought in a battle, or even was present in an actual battle, so her experience such things were purely speculative.

 

[Orbis]

Anya entered the room, "You have a point," she replied to Marisa, "this is exactly what happens in war." The young Echani inspected her combat knife and slugthrower pistol, the only weapons she had brought with her. Feeling confident that they were in working order, she continued, "I wasn't at the battle, myself, so I will try not to act as if I understand what it was like, though, from what I've heard, it was quite bad." She had only recently been recruited into the Imperial Knights, and here she was, in a small apartment, far from home, discussing a battle that took place a week ago. 'Not just any battle,' she thought, correcting herself, 'the Battle of Coruscant is certainly not just some battle.' Turning to Enfali, Anya said, "From what I understand, you were born on Coruscant, I'm sorry for your loss, it must've been hard leaving your homeworld behind." Anya sat, her hand resting near her holster, and waited to see what would happen next, secretly hoping that this was all a dream, though they likely all were. As she sat, she murmured, "Damn Sith."

 

[Wit]

The young boy, who had been running around the room, a small model starfighter in his hands, came to a stop next to his mother, intrigued by the new words he had just heard. "Damn Sith?" The sudden question from the so far silent child would be aimed at his mother, at which point he could see that she didn't look happy, and he would then notice it through the Force as well.

Not liking it when either of his parents were angry or sad, he might not know it then but he was didn't like how they felt through the Force, the boy would do the only thing he could think of to cheer her up. With a wide smile on his face he would hold up the toy starfighter to his mother. The toy was his favorite, en exact model replica of the hero's fighter from his favorite show. Playing with it always cheered him up, maybe it would do the same for his mother. "No damn Sith, ship!"

 

[TAC]

For the most part, the Duchess ignored what the rest of them had to say. Enfali had been there, on Coruscant, but the rest had not. They only saw the Fall of the Alliance through a tiny window of media, a small screen that could not depict the destruction and chaos that they faced that night. It was a terrible sight to behold. Something that would live with her forever. Something to always reminder her why exactly she fought.

One of the newer Knights, a young Echani by the name of Anya Eiswyn, swore concerning the Sith. The Duchess's eyes widened, her heart quickening as her young son took almost no time to take up the call. Throwing a quick glare at the Echani, a glare that could pierce any ore the Mandolorians could dig out of the earth, she scooped the young Fel up and off the floor.

The young mother made the noise Caleb's ship made on his favorite show, bringing the boy close to her face as she scrunched her face. She set the toddled on her one leg, then, on a higher rung on the stool than all the others. With one hand free, she grabbed the remote, flicking the channel on the HoloNet. The same spaceship noise she had made whirled from the audio projectors, as the title screen came on, "Tales of Baatch: The Dark Emperor." Before he did a backflip in her arms, Siennaa set Caleb down, so that his attention could be averted from his thoughts of damning sith.

"War is no easy thing," the woman said, to the other adults that were now collected around the table. "But what happened on Coruscant was not an attack on a military force. It was the slaughter, the massacre, of many innocents."

 

[Galavant]

Enfali was taken aback by the Echani invasion, especially the one eating her snack. But she seemed friendly enough, so Enfali held the bag in a way that both of them could eat out of it with no problem. The other one kind of unnerved her though. First she'd come in with a knife and a blaster and then started addressing her as though she were way more familiar with Enfali than she were. The child parroting what she said was funny though, and watching his (presumably) mother take him away to watch some holoprogram or another, made Enfali smile a little.

She found herself agreeing with what the Duchess said, but didn't say anything on the subject herself. She didn't think there was anything she could say that would really add to what the red haired woman had already said.

"Uh hi," She said instead before shoving more food in her face. She didn't really know anyone here and the conversation was getting a little too heavy for her taste. She just wanted to get some food and enjoy the peaceful day. She hadn't really had a chance to do much of the latter since Coruscant fell, and for all she knew there might not be many nice, quiet days in her future. So she wanted a chance to just sit back and take this one in a little.

 

[Ten10dix]

Leroy opened the apartment door and entered silently. He had been walking around the area, taking in the views and the people. They all tried to look casual, but even they knew that if Coruscant could fall to the Sith, couldn't they? The fact that nowhere was truly safe was a frightening prospect. The Duchess had just sat her boy down. He went over to the table, nodded at her and sat down. He didn't know anyone else around the table, but presumably they were all Imperial Knights. It was disconcerting to see some of them were so young. One of them was barely a women! His faith in the Knights had never truly shaken, but he was disappointed that not all of them were the legendary warriors he had heard about back on Bastion.

"You should of seen their fleet. By the Force, I knew about the Imperial Armada but facing it was an entirely different matter. They tore us apart, quite literally. My entire crew was vaporized in a mere second. Four survivors, including me. Do any of you know what happened next? The planet just seemed to... Implode. It just seemed to, I don't know... Engulf itself in chaos? I know Imperial Military tactics well, and I realize that sometimes you have to make tough choices to ensure a mission's success, but... They just tore the planet apart! Billions, perhaps trillions, of lives just... Gone."

Leroy shook his head, still finding it hard to believe. He was not a man easily shaken, but Coruscant had definitely woken something up inside him. This just proved that the Sith had corrupted the Empire.

"What are your plans? Resistance at this point seems difficult... No military could face the Imperium, not using conventional means. I'm not normally this pessimistic, but it does seem we're in quite a bit of trouble..."

 

[Lavi]

At Enfali's greeting, Marisa looked around, not entirely sure if it was meant for her. Maybe it was for the newcomer who sat down by the Duchess? Regardless, the general negativity in the room was irritating. Although she was only an ally of the Knights for a short time, Marisa never realized how low morale has gotten among her peers.

"A bundle of string is strong, but it can be cut by shearing its pieces," she muttered out loud, to no one in particular.

Although it was a war tactic, it also applied to her work as a thief. A security grid is a daunting system to overcome, but a grid consists of many components, each of which can be eliminated. Even if a security measure is protected by another measure, there is an end to the line of overlapping systems that can be exploited. Being outnumbered and outgunned was part of being a thief. Perhaps they should have followed her line of work for a time.

After graciously grabbing another bit of Enfali's snack, Marisa dismissed herself to take a shower without explaining her analogy, feeling filthy from waking up in a sweat. As she dried her hair after the quick and refreshing shower, Marisa sighed as she realized that her hair, dyed black, was growing to the length that a new application of hair dye would be needed to keep her hair a uniform color; a small patch of a grey-white was forming at the roots. However, Marisa didn't have hair dye with her at the moment: her last batch was depleted a few weeks ago, without any opportunity to restock.

Dismissing the annoyance, Marisa put on a dress shirt and jeans, throwing her black garb into a bag and returned to the table. She tossed her bag back onto the couch she was sleeping on and sat down to watch the Tales of Baatch​ with Caleb. The episode was showing an episode where Calid and Mira formed the Wardens. They were forming the organization to prevent a dark force from overcoming the galaxy, which sounded a lot like the original goal of the Imperial Knights.

Marisa didn't feel that her input had much value just yet, being a newer face and largely unproven among the Knights.

 

[Orbis]

As the Duchess gave her a glare that could shatter beskar, Anya could not help but think, 'Whoops, I shouldn't have said that last part.' She didn't apologize, though, there would be time for that later. Enfali obviously wasn't interested in speaking, and seemed to simply want to be left in peace. Anya would leave her to her own devices.

As they sat there, a man had opened the door quietly and sat down at the table with them. Shortly thereafter, he had started talking about the Battle as Anya listened intently, trying to get a better understanding of what had happened. When he had finished, the other Echani had spoken, herself, before departing the room.

Then, Anya spoke up to give her own input, directing her statement towards the newcomer, " I am sorry to hear about your crew and the planet itself, all those innocent lives lost, but you are absolutely right, we can't stop the Sith outright, though that has never stopped people from stopping them in the past. We can stop them as long as we stay in the shadows and never lose hope, for if we lose hope, then the Sith have already won. You may argue that the Sith have already won, but I beg to differ, for we are still alive, and as long as one of us is alive and has hope, the Sith have not won. The Sith may be large and imposing, but, that means they cast a large shadow that we can fight them from. We can't afford to attack them at all, really, not directly. We can, however, afford to cause revolts, and possibly even full-scale rebellion. This is how we can win this war, though for now, survival alone is a victory. That is my opinion, at least. Name's Anya, by the way, Anya Eiswyn." As she finished, the other Echani returned and sat down next to Caleb.

 

[Ten10dix]

One of the women got up and left, muttering something about strong string. He barely caught what she said, but it seemed a nice comparison. The girl, Leroy guessed she was around 17, began to speak. She couldn't of been on Coruscant, she couldn't of seen the horror that had befallen the planet. Too much spark in her eyes, too much hope. Leroy smiled, however. This small glimmer of hope she spoke about was a refreshing change. He scolded himself for his pessimism in his mind. what had his father used to tell him? "Your only limit is yourself". Or something like that. Thinking about defeat inevitably meant they would be defeated. Then again, they did have to be realistic.

"Captain Jonas Leroy, ma'am, at your service. I don't doubt there will be resistance, and I want to be right there on the front lines."

Instead of continuing, he changed the subject.

"Where are you from, ma'am, if you don't mind me asking?"

He wasn't normally one to chat with people, but what the hell. He needed to take his mind off of things.

 

[Orbis]

The man now identified himself as Captain Jones Leroy and had asked where she was from. To this, Anya responded, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Captain Leroy, I was born on Eshan, though I don't live there anymore, not since just the Sith declared martial law, anyways." It seemed that everything now revolved around the Sith. Then, she addressed everyone, "If anyone wants to learn the Echani martial art, Mando'a, Huttese, or Hapan, I can help, and I recommend we all try to train each other in new skills. The more skilled we are, the better. After all, hope alone doesn't win wars, though it is certainly a major factor, troops need morale, after all." With the last word, she fell silent to allow someone else to speak up.

 

[Lavi]

Marisa shook her head at the Echani, signalling her disapproval of Anya's offer. Although it is not a terrible idea, there is still a major flaw that Anya is overlooking in her logic.

"I'd practice a single move a thousand times than practice a thousand moves once," she said, tilting her head back to look in Anya's general direction. She could not quite see the Echani from where she was, but it was beside the point.

After giving Caleb's hair a quick ruffle, Marisa got up and walked back over towards Anya. The way she walked should pick up with Anya as a warning.

"With that in mind," she began, then quickly thrust a clenched fist towards Anya's face. She fully expected that Anya would block the attack if she truly knew the Echani art, therefore she would have read the message projected in the simple palm strike. Her skill in Echani is rudimentary, unfocused. Novice-like, even. But she understood the rudiments of overcoming an opponent, albeit through opportunistic, sometimes underhanded, tactics. Also, it wouldn't hurt to expand from a single move to several. All of this, Anya should be able to read, though it would be an different story for the others.

 

[Orbis]

As the other Echani got up and started to walk toward her, Anya noticed from her stride that she planned to attack, and so prepared to block or dodge and counter-attack. She knew the others around her wouldn't see the subtle gestures, as it took an eye trained in the Echani art to spot. When the other Echani got close enough, she attempted to land a punch on Anya, who jumped out of her chair and spun in the air, redirecting the attack with her arm so it hit the chair beneath her before landing beside the chair and assuming a defensive form, though she predicted her opponent would not attack again, so she said, "Finally, a chance to communicate through combat, even if your form was a little sloppy. I read from your that you were only testing me to see if I truly knew Echani. So, are you done testing me?" She had said it aloud since none of the others could read combat and would likely intervene had she not, though the entire exchange could've been compressed into one counter-attack. "Your attack was way too easy to predict, though that was the point, so good job, but you didn't assume a defensive stance afterwards, had I chosen to counter-attack, you would've had difficulty evading, and remember, the Echani martial art is focussed on momentum and redirecting or dodging attacks, not blocking. All in all, your attack was solid, but everything else needs work. I'd recommend you practice more frequently, it will make you more nimble and could save your life." With that, she dropped her defensive stance and took her seat, hoping the other Echani would take her constructive criticism as well as it was Anya had meant it to be.

 

[Galavant]

Sith, hope, resistance, victory, rebellion, front lines.....

Did anybody plan on taking a minute to not discuss the war? Or the lack thereof now that Coruscant was gone in a fashion only exceeded by Alderaan, and possibly matched by Taris. A the temple, Enfali hadn't heard so much talk about the war. Oh it was there certainly, but it wasn't a typical topic of conversation. Even the short conversation here exceeded most of the war talk she'd heard before the fall of Tython and Empress Teta. It was just too much for her right now. Not with her wounds still healing, not with that twisted sense of all encompassing darkness she'd felt in the force still fresh in her mind.

If she were at the Temple, one of the masters would probably be telling her to meditate right now. And surprisingly she felt like meditating. As the Echani started to hit each other, Enfali stared straight past them. Taking another bite of her snack, she found herself thinking back to something a Master had said during a lesson. She didn't remember what the lesson was, who the master had said it was, or anything like that. The only thing she remembered was phrase the Jedi Master had used; moments of transition. This certainly felt like one of those, things were on the move. The Alliance was falling, the Imperium was ascendant. The Jedi were on the run, the Sith in power. The one Echani had gone from sitting to blocking a punch, and talking a lot. But none of these things had happened, not quite yet at least. They were transitioning. The action had been taken, but the fallout from it had yet to truly be reached. Everyone knew what was going to happen but they were still in a state of flux. In much the same way, Enfali was in a state of transition. She'd gone from with the Jedi to being with the Imperial Knights. But she wasn't really a Knight yet, but was most definitely no longer a Jedi. She didn't think she could back to that life after what she'd seen on Coruscant and experienced since. She was in a state of flux, within a moment of transition.

She sneezed. Rather violently, this place was hell on her allergies.

 

[Lavi]

Marisa only shrugged in reply, turning away as Anya sat down. She did not mind the criticism, regardless of how constructive it was. Yes, her form was sloppy. Yes, she should have been prepared for Anya's next move in the split moments as her punch collided (rather painfully) with the chair. But her formal training in Echani is virtually non-existent. To add to that, Marisa spent more time running than fighting, providing even fewer opportunities to practice. One thing figuratively struck her though: testing Anya was not her intention. In fact, she had no reason not to trust Anya's claim of her skill set. Did the Echani have something to prove?

As for herself, Marisa sat down on the nearby countertop, momentarily distracted by the sound of the holoprogramme. She suddenly felt like she didn't want to be here. The atmosphere bore down like a weighted bell bar, with thoughts hovering around what happened on Coruscant. Although Leroy did try to change the topic, it does take longer for minds to change their attention.

 

[TAC]

The Duchess was quiet, when the spoke of Coruscant and war. Quiet even still when they spoke about the might of the Sith, and what fighting them would be like, which was somewhat uncustomary. For days- weeks, months- she had been thinking. Discussing. Trying to figure out the next step the Imperial Knights would take. Both she and the Knight Commander were concerned, as they should be, with what was ahead of them. It seemed almost complete foggy, unclear, except for the fact that the Sith would again be able to deviate more resources to hunting them down.

Siennaa didn't like to think about that.

When she thought of her friends- who had become family now- within the Imperial Knights. These new members, young, inexperienced, idealistic, and fighting for a cause that was not plausible. But that didn't stop them. Here they sat, she with them, and spoke of war, and redemption, and the next step in their fight to rid themselves of the Sith plague. And it brought a smile to her face.

As it touched her lips, she looked over towards the TV. There sat the true reason she never lost sight of hope. A young boy, her son, who would grow up with the threat of the Sith constantly hung above his head. What was his future, though? A life of hiding from those that wanted nothing more than to kill him and everything he knew?

No.

The smile widened on the Duchess's lips.

If his mother had anything to say about it, that would be far from the reality.

Marisa and Anya exchanged quickly, and the Duchess stood up, confused at what the two of them were doing. Realizing it was some sort of... test... or experience... or whatever it was, just so long as it wasn't aggressive, she took her hand off of her lightsaber. "Do not do that again," she warned. Her eyebrows were raised at the two of them, like a scolding mother. "If you want to train, don't do it here. This isn't a place to throw each other about."

Content with the other conversation, about from where they had all come, she sat back down. "I'm interested to hear where you all hail from," she said. She made a statement, but the question in it was obvious.

 

[Ten10dix]

Two of the women, both seemingly Echani, suddenly and for no apparent reason started to fight. Leroy tensed, his hand going to his belt where he normally had his pistol holstered. He realized quickly what was going on, the Echani were very warlike by nature, this was probably just a means in which they communicated, a ritual of some sort. He glanced over at the boy, who seemed to be staring at the duo as they exchanged blows. He wondered if it was wise to have a fight in this confined space with a child a mere few meters away. Probably not. He looked over at the Duchess, who at some point had stood up, just as startled by the Echani as he had been. More so, he thought, as she had a child to protect. He was about to suggest that they take it outside, but they stopped anyway.

The Duchess sat down, and asked the group where they all came from, continuing the conversation Leroy had started a few minutes ago.

"I was born on Bastion, ma'am, in Sartinaynian, the Capital. My family were military, had been for generations. My Father was Admiral, a damn fine one too. A Loyalist, of course, if it wasn't for him I probably would not be here. You know, I just realized I haven't been home for years. I hope I can go back there one day."

He let himself indulge in a small, quick smile as he thought of home. The emotion swept over him and was swept back just as quickly. He couldn't afford to be distracted, not at a time like this. He cleared his throat, and looked around the table, wondering who would be the next to talk.

 

[Lavi]

In response to the Duchess' scolding, Marisa turned her head aside in recognition that she should have been more discrete. It was inappropriate, given the circumstances, regardless of how brief it was, since Caleb saw what happened. She huddled closer together to mask her moment of shame, only unraveling as the conversation switched back to where they came from. Even so, her own origins was a touchy subject: she didn't want to go too deeply into it.

"I don't have a place to go back to anymore," Marisa spoke up.

'And it's because I destroyed everything I had left.' she silently added.

"But I grew up by Crullov City on Corulag," Marisa quickly added, to avoid lingering on her previous statement. "You can call me Archer."

The area was rough due to the presence of various crime syndicates, but it did raise her to be street smart. Marisa avoided using her real name not to avoid giving her identity, but dead weight that needed to be cut loose. Marisa Serek was a thief who died from Gorabba the Hutt's schemes. Archer is a rebel with the Imperial Knights and the True Throne.

 

[TAC]

Quietly, the woman regarded each of the two who cared to speak up. The others didn't seem to want to, but that was fine with her. Increasingly, the galaxy was hard, cold, and full of memories that hurt. Home was often the center of that hurt. She understand- she wasn't very welcome where she came from other. It wasn't exactly easy, giving up the throne of the Hapes Consortium. People didn't understand that.

But everyone had decision to make.

Lives they had to live.

The man was obviously Imperial stock. He reeked of it. And yet, a smile touched his lips as he thought of home. The Duchess stared at him as she saw him bottle it back, shoving back his emotions. A military man for sure. But emotion had a time and a place, and if it was controlled, it was a very useful tool. It was what drove them all to be where they were, and continuing doing what they did even in the face of impossible odds.

Marisa, who now requested to be called Archer, piped in next.

"You'll do yourself no favor in bottling your emotions, Jonas." the woman said. She smiled warmly at him. "There is a time and a place for it, and it will sustain you when nothing else can. Remember the happy memories. We have a long road ahead of us." The bright haired woman wasn't finished, though. With a sly smile, she glanced at Archer.

"And the same goes for you, Archer." The Duchess paused. While she gave no emphasis on the word 'Archer," the pause seemed to give importance to the statement. "While you may not have a place to go back to, you have a place to be." The sly smile widened as Siennaa regarded the other woman. She obviously wasn't a mushy sort of person, and while the Duchess had a soft spot for any of the individuals under her command, that didn't man she would let that get between them. "You watch our backs, and we have yours."

Shrugging, she stood up. The smirk was gone from her face, and her lightsaber lept to her hand. She clicked towards the TV, indicating that it should be turned off. Seconds after, she was to the door, quietly locking it as she flicked the lights off. It was raining outside, just a drizzle, and the artificial light gleaned in through the tinted windows. Outside, now that it was quiet, voice could be heard.

"That apartment right over there, sir?"

With a quiet finger, the Duchess pointed to the back door.

It was time to go.