Rally Round

[Tiberius Anar]

"...scanners at all the entryways and a rapid response team of five in each section should those operating them require back up."

"Good," Colonel Anatoly Breber, the head of the guard detail asigned to protect the Chancellor looked over the plans in front of him, "And the punch out?"

"If we have to move him quickly the carriers will take him out through this door along this corridor and out here," a finger traced a path across the plans, "He'll be in the air in three minutes, fifteen seconds. Then five minutes to the Chancellery, six to the lift point."

The carriers were the guards detailed to take the protectee to safety in the event of an attack or other emergency. Their name came from the fact that it was not unknown for bodyguards to literally carry their guy out of danger- politicians are not always the quickest people when it comes to moving. As for the lift point was where a shuttle was kept ready to take the Chancellor off-world should an emergency warrant it.

"Ok," Breber looked down his list. Only one detail left. "Where's the nearest hospital?"

* * *

"I don't want the cameras to pick them up."

"They're the Party Chairs."

"And I don't want the cameras to pick them up."

The arguement had been running on for quite some time, at ever increasing levels, for a week. Now it was the turn of the Deputy Directors of Communications to fight over it.

Adol Sul tried again, "Why?" He asked and then cut across the answer, "Because you don't want him to be upstaged."

"You're damned right I don't," shot back Arak Moss, "He's giving the speech. We want the focus to be on him."

"No we want the focus to be on Party unity."

"We want the focus to be on national unity."

"Which comes through the unity of the Party. That unity is best shown..."

"Which is best shown by having one man on screen."

"No!" snapped Sul, "It is best shown by having the Party bosses behind him."

"To look bored."

"To look supportive."

"Which we will get at the start. Then we should cut the angles so that we just get him."

"Oh come on..."

***

"No! No! No!" the irate band master, "You're coming in too slow. Bassoons keep up!"

***

"This is a reminder to all viewers that this week's episode of the drama Secton 12: Counter Espionage will be shown tomorrow. In its place, Datacast 32 will be bringing you live coverage of Chancellor Anar's address to the All Party Rally..."

"Aw great!" growsed a heavy set maintenance worker to his neighbour at the bar, "And I really wanted to see what happened to that mongrel spy. Can you believe that, guy?"

The last episode of Section 12 had been a real hit, with the daring Security Agent Dana Ulick moving to uncover a halfbreed humanoid turned spy at a government support agency. The second part was being eagerly awaited.

"I know what you mean." The neighbour was a recent convert to the programme. "Shouldn't have let him in, that's the problem. Need everyone to think the same."

"So now we have to put up with Party propaganda, instead? It's just so blatant..."

[Tiberius Anar]

Tiberius Anar was accustomed to travel in a certain style. His position entitled him to it. A fast vehicle, escorts in front and behind, bodyguards, intersections closed, his path cleared by Imperial Centre's traffic controllers. These were the signs of his rank, the tangible benefits of years of devoted service to the people of the Empire, the Emperor and the New Order. After all, didn't he deserve a little comfort?

Not that he felt terribly comfortable right now. His rapidly moving hovercade was transporting him to a converted grav-ball arena. In place of the playing surface there were now seats. One side of the arena's tiered seating had been re-arranged to accomodate a stage. A stage he would be walking on to in a little less than an hour. A stage on which he was going to give a speech.

Speeches were not unusual in his line of work of course. As Chancellor he had given a fair number of speeches. As Party Gen-Sec he had made more than a few forays into demogogery. This speech, however, was rather different.

In the past he had been addressing audiences of a certain intellectual calibre. Audiences who could appreciate the finer points of ideological debate, who could wrestle with the intricacies of policy, who could sit through an hour of detailed policy analysis and think it worth it. Audiences he understood. Not today. Today he would be addressing an audience of people he could barely understand and who could barely understand him in return. Today he as going to be speaking to the plebs.

"I hope this works," he sighed to himself as he re-read the text of the speech for the fiftieth time.

[Tiberius Anar]

The banked seating facing the stage was packed with people. Almost all of them was in a uniform of one sort or another.

Here was a block of black clad stormtroopers attending as part of political indoctrination. Over to their left a massive patch of pale blue marked members of the Sub-Adult Group of COMPNOR. Here a knot of red, where members of Imperial Intelligence had installed themselves, there a strip of grey where sat a contingent of naval officers, elsewhere a bank of olive green wearing army men stood.

The sight was amazing. The noise was immense. Chants rang out from enthused youths. Greetings were exchanged. Disputes were had, whilst around it all moved a seemingly impenetrable sheild of protection agents and stormtroopers.

[Byl Laprovik]

They all looked like ants. All different kinds of ants milling about. Red, black, etc. The Empire had a panache for that kind of uniform color coordination. Somehow, the most evil people in the galaxy were also some of the best dressed. They must be compensating for something they're missing, trying to make the A-list into heaven. Douchebags.

A blonde lady caught Byl's eye a few rows down from him, and he caught hers. They exchanged a friendly smile, and as she turned back to look at her Chancellor, Byl lingered a bit to check her out. Pretty hot little thing.

His high collar began to chafe at his neck, and he adjusted it. According to his bars, he was a second lieutenant, which struck him as a bit offensive. As if joining a hallowed cadre of washouts, retards, and closet homosexuals wasn't enough, in this Empire's army, he got a demotion from his commission in the Alliance.

The uniform had cost him fifty credits and ten grams of glitterstim to buy off of a washout who'd apparently gotten lost in the Imperial army somewhere on the way to a free college education. Had to buy some bigger boots elsewhere, but everything else fit to some degree. Of course, all the fitting in the world doesn't mean a damn thing when you're wearing a suit of pure starch.

He tapped his wrist comm and spoke into it, slightly over the din of cheering around him.

"You there?"

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Wouldn't be anywhere else if you paid me." Lilaena brushed back her ash blonde hair and adjusted her uniform. "Everything is good here."

She exited the vehicle and leaned against the side. The noise of the rally was loud enough that she could hear it from where she was, even though she was well out of the security perimeter. The only problem with this partnership was that while she'd provided the information and given Byl a way into the rally, he'd insisted on being the one on site. She was relegated to a back up position where she couldn't see anything.

Should be able to hear it though. She pulled out a stim and lit it up, letting it dangle from her fingers at her side. "Did you straighten up the house before you left?"

[Lamar Starworth]

The day was long, like all the rest. Nothing eventful seemed to happened, even with the monstrous crowd in the background. All the same routines that he had seen before. This lifestyle was becoming tiresome. Being a stormtrooper carried a career of religious rituals all for one Deity, the Empire.

Lamar was just another face covered in the white shell. He had accomplished a few things since his start, but still he was nothing unique. Just another body to be disposed of by a Rebel adversary. Somehow he had managed to conquer a few of the challenges, but as he had started he was on duty of security. After all the claps, and stations he encountered, he was still just a petty stormtrooper, with a blaster and a squad to move around perimeters.

Security wasn't pushover work, but definitely not exciting. Right, left, right left it went. The trots leaving stamps in the ground, mailing nature the Imperial presence. Although the ground around the stadium perimeters was not soft, the boots were harder. Dust continued to kick up as Lamar led the small fleet. Despite the normality of the security measures, Lamar was dressed in the least likely attire. Draped in the normal shock trooper wear, he was distinguished amidst the rest of fellow troopers. The modified helmet were embedded with vents, allowing the air to slide smoothly into the covered nostrils. Even the left shoulder held a difference to the normal stormtrooper attire. A bulge of disfigured white, resembling the tips of mountains, was plastered at the joint of his arm to collar bone.

Nonetheless, he was just another face--no matter what fleet he led. The memorable faces were inside, on a stage. He was on different stages, one where death seemed always imminent and his life was the least favored.

Pressing his hand to his earpiece, Lamar requested orders. After a rant from the commanding center, he headed out. Hopefully a stray cat or something was in the area to cause some excitement. There certainly wasn't anything else to do when all the fun was inside.

[Tiberius Anar]

A party official of indeterminate rank and possessed of indifferent oratorical capacities was treating the vast crowd to a tirade against the evils of diversity. Seated behind him on the stage was a glittering array of party leaders. Among their number could be found several ministers, four agency directors, four admirals and seven generals. Like the crowd they applauded at the right times, occasionally coming to their feet when the official made a particualrly good point (no doubt thanks to help from a team of well-paid speech writers.)

The final ovation rolled around the stadium as the call went over the earpieces of the various security forces that the Chancellor was two minutes away. The Imperial machine was working with its usual clockwork precision.

[Bette Davis]

Bette stood at attention at the back of the stage, her dress uniform clean and pressed neatly and her hair fastened securely to the back of her head. As one of the higher ranking female officers in the fleet as a Flight Commander of Shadow Squadron, she was acting as a poster child for the 'new' Empire.

Not that the bigotry or sexism of the Imperial Navy had changed, but it was important how things appeared. Shadow Squadron was effectively dissembled for the time being, due to heavy losses at Endor and a lack of strong leadership. Her current assignment was training new TIE pilots, which of course was more trouble than it was worth. Until TIE fighters were all equipped with shields the turnover rate for pilots would start to outstrip their recruiting efforts.

Bette's head pounded with the leftovers of last night's binge drinking episode. Val had finally left her for good and had been transferred off of the ISD Termagant, and Captain Kellison was making her life miserable, as per usual. The cherry on the cake was being assigned to this rally. She closed her eyes lightly to block out the harsh sunlight and wished she was dead.

[Byl Laprovik]

Originally posted by Lilaena De'Ville
"Did you straighten up the house before you left?"

"Of course I did, sweety. I know we're expecting company later."

Byl smiled a fake smile, looking about at the assembled ranks with casual interest. The dry speeches were beginning, so it was time to at least feign a little interest in what the Imperial brass had to say at this little rally.

"Can't talk much. The speech is starting. I'll see you after it's all done. We'll have a blast later tonight. Love you, peaches."

Byl kissed into the comm and closed the channel, resuming his vigil.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

"Love you too." She clicked off the comm and placed it back on her belt. Tapping the side of her spectacles, the local holofeed flickered into existence where only she could see it.

The speeches were starting, and she felt her pulse rate quicken. We'll have a blast.

Indeed they would.

[Tiberius Anar]

Yet another official approached the podium and began to extoll the virtues of the next speaker. His voiced echoed around the stadium and along dingy corridors and out over to the streets around.

"Members of the Party! Our next speaker is one well known to us..."

The first of the procession of vehicles bearing Anar to his destination slid into place at the back entrance to the stage. Lights flashed, doors opened and slammed, the feet of heavy set men smacked the pavement.

...a close ally of our late lamented Emperor...

The limosine pulled into place. A bodyguard moved to the rear door, jerking it open and standing to attention. A highly polished shoe swung out to the paved space before the door.

...a leading scholar of the New Order...

A procession of feet made its way down a linolium lined corridor. Aides jostled for space near the centre of the group. The centre of the group marched on.

...gifted with insight and wisdom...

Up the stairs went the procession. Bodyguards, aides, Anar, aides, bodyguards then others still.

...an orator with style and grace...

Anar rolled his eyes.

...our friend...

An aide straightened the tailored suit.

...our guide in time of need...

A folder was pressed into the manicured hand of 'the guide.'

...the Chancellor of the Empire...

"Oh, gods," intoned the august figure under his breath.

Our General Secretary, Tiberius Drusus Nero Anar!

The applause were like a wave washing across the vast crowd, it moved as a fluid disturbed does- rippling back and forth. The cheer that went up was thunderous, cracking across that immense space like a force of nature but it did not die, continuing for a long time. The sound rushed forward to meet the Chancellor as he strode out onto the stage. It drowned out all other noises even that of his heart which, moments ago, had been beating a raucous tattoo against his ribs.

He walked towards the podium...

[Tal Kellison]

The thunderous applause were echoed thousands of miles away, albeit at a much reduced volume. In his quarters, aboard the Termagent, lazily orbiting Coruscant, Captain Tal Kellison was watching the datacast with rapt attention.

Oh how he wished he could be there. Though he was easily one of the greatest officers in the Imperial Navy (in his own mind, at least), he also had very little seniority and was thus passed over when the guest list was being created. At least Commander Davis was attending as his proxy. He had no doubt she would represent him well; after all, she had learned a lot from him. He was like a mentor to her and the rest of Shadow Squadron -- they looked up to him.

Captain Kellison absorbed the pomp and pagentry of the rally like a tree took in water. THIS, this was the sort of day a man dreamed about. The glory of the Empire was on display for all to see and the Captain, for one, couldn't get enough of it.

Finally, the Secretary appeared before the podium, looking as dignified as anyone Captain Kellison had ever seen, his eyes clouded with loyalty and patriotism. True, Anar wasn't a military man, but Captain Kellison still respected the hell out of the man. After all, it took a real patriot to do what he had done to hold the Empire together after the unfortunate death of the late, glorious Emperor Palpatine.

[Lamar Starworth]

A bolt of sheer red dashed out of the blaster. In a blink a nuna's left leg flew off in solitary to the side. The blast had managed to leave the fragile, weak animal with only one stable pod to take balance. It was renown that a nuna had near to no intelligence, and with a matter of seconds it was onto the ground.

Chuckles and giggles blossomed across the headsets of Lamar's squad. They always got a kick out of such things. He didn't. Boredom was a sickness that he couldn't deal with, even with the protective armor of the herald Stormtrooper. All he could reserve was a frown, holding a stark contrast to his comrades. Albeit they were underlings to his operation, they were still friends. He couldn't share in the laughter and humor.

Not a single face had shown itself around the coliseum's perimeters. All the grouping had to deal with were stray animals and a few planted objects. It was completely embarrassing to be subjected to such foolishness. Yet, he had to deal with it. He was no Emperor, much less a Commander of much more than a platoon for today. He had no say in the situation, besides his men. And even they continued on with their idiocy in boredom when he beckoned a stop.

"Come on men, lets move out. This is cu pa fodder." He said, pressing into his helmet's headset.

[Tiberius Anar]

Anar reached the lectern from which he was to speak. From the other side (that visible to the audience) it looked rather grand- a large wooden pillar supporting a substantial looking black box on the face of which was the ubiquitous cog-wheel emblem of the Party and of the Empire. From this side it seemed not so much, grand as functional. The box like upper structure concealed a flat surface on which was set a loose leaf binder a pitcher of water and a glass- the box like quality of the upper structure was intended to conceal these mundane items.

With practiced ease Anar flipped the binder open. It contain a hardcopy of his speech- a safeguard against the failure of the prompter screens placed at intervals around an arc before him. Barely noticeable to the crowd these ensured that Anar would seem look at the crowd when he addressed them.

Anar looked at the crowd. He thought better of it. The size of this audience and their expectations were just a little too great for him to consider calmly right now.

Then he realised that they were applauding him. That was normal of course. People always applauded at these things- even if nothing had been said. It was what one did.

He acknowlegded the applause somewhat hesitantly. His hands went up into the air and he waved them back and forth. They were held parralel to one another and moved in synchrony as if he was shaking an invisible container of some sort. Nobody ever waves naturally when it is directed at a large body of people. Anar looked hesitant but dignified.

"Fellow citizens," his voice boomed out across the crowd and their aplause and cheers died down some what, "My fellow citizens, The Empire Endures!"

This set off another wave of whooping and hollaring. Anar was taken aback but did not show it.

"The dissenters and traitors have struck at us in every way imaginable and yet the Empire Endures.

"They have attacked our soldiers. They have attacked our ships. They have attacked our bases and our cities and, yet, the Empire Endures!" His voice gathered speed, the tempo of the words pulling him along as he spoke them.

"They have shot at us, stabbed us and bombed us. They have killed soldiers, destroyed ships taken from us our friends and our relations and, yet, the Empire Endures!

"We have lost people. People who were good and loyal comrades. Citizens of the Empire obeying the law and answering the call of the duty. We have lost our leader by the hand of a traitor assassin.

Yet, in spite of all of this, the Empire is still here! The Empire has Endured!"

The cheers which had not died away, only died down redoubled. Hands clapped, feet stamped. Cameras flashed and whirred. Others, more sober for one reason or another, hung on to see what he might say next. Or what might happen.

[Bette Davis]

We have lost people. People who were good and loyal comrades. That's for damn sure. The Empire never allowed inquiries into why they thought that shields for TIE fighters was an 'unnecessary' expense. The standard TIE was cheaper, and easier to build than the newer, shielded variants. That was probably the only answer needed.

But even with shields, there were deaths. At Endor the Shadow Squadron that was had nearly been wiped out.

Bette glanced to the side, noticed the other 'faces of the Empire' were clapping, and joined in until the General Secretary began speaking again.

[Tiberius Anar]

Anar felt a great wave of elation moving through him as the cheers of the crowd hit him. This was definitely different from a speech to the Party's Policy Forum or to a University seminar. This had an energy all of its own. It was like a drug. He carried on, his words coming with increasing confidence and increasing force.

"How has this been done, my friends?" he asked of the crowd- reverting for a moment to the teacher he had once been. With those words he caught the crowd's attention, quietening them as they waited to hear the answer.

"Through adherence to the principles of the New Order. Through adherence to the principles of Palpatine.

"Through unity.

"Through strength won by that unity.

"Through the central direction of that strength.

"But above all, through the certainty that our cause is just, that to save civilisation firm action is required."

A mass expression of approval arose from the crowd. They were more sober this time. Their hands pounded together more than their throats gave vent to cries of approbation. A vast wave of movement caught the speaker's eye as, across the banks of seating people came to their feet to applaude.

[Tal Kellison]

"How has this been done, my friends?"

"Through adherence to the principles of the New Order. Through adherence to the principles of Palpatine."

"Rest his soul."

"Through unity."

"Yes!"

"Through strength won by that unity.

"Exactly!"

"Through the central direction of that strength."

"Precisely!"

"But above all, through the certainty that our cause is just, that to save civilization firm action is required."

"Long live the Empire!"

Captain Kellison's glass of water tipped precariously. The table rocked underneath it, jostled by the officer as he stood. The room was filled with the sound of applause directed at the Chancellor's speech. Kellison couldn't possiby agree more; it was as if it was being drawn word for word from his own mind.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Master A'na Eldhil would be proud of me.

Lilaena blinked, refocusing on the minature holoscreen that was projected on the spectacles she was wearing. She had not thought of her old master in a long time. Too long, perhaps.

She suddenly craved the security of the rough woolen robe Master A'na had always worn, fingering the edges of her tunic like a small child might. But, she would be proud. Everything in her training was leading her towards this.

Would Master A'na really care? The second thought, on the heels of the first, made the Jedi pause. A'na Eldhil had devoted her life to the destruction of the Empire. She had raised Lilaena to be the instrument of its demise. Standing here, outside of the stadium, cooling her heels beside an ambulance... it was how Laprovik had wanted to do it.

What if he is playing you? He will get all the glory and you will get nothing! Lilaena narrowed her eyes as she continued to listen to the holofeed, trying to drown out the sound of her own thoughts.

[Lamar Starworth]

Not much had blossomed on the outskirts of the event. Only a few stragglers who had been demanded to leave before a blaster hole accompanied them home. It was the ritual, the norm, and Lamar hated it.

All the display of testosterone was too much for him, and despite his once attraction to threats, had was tired. The life as a Stormtrooper was becoming less lively, especially with the fall of the Emperor. During Palpatine's reign he had left a strong hold on many departments of the Empire, and the stormtrooper was one of the few that responded only to his call. Instead, in the days after Endor there was only a wage of foolishness at the head.

At times Lamar even forgot who was leading the campaign against the Rebellion, despite the survival of the Empire. There was not a strong personality, or speech to be heard by the Imperial citizen to claim to trust and dependence that was with the Emperor. In the young soldier's mind, the Empire had become weak, and he a long with it.

"Do not tell the superiors. I'm leaving the post. Kijic, intercept my comms. You'll take to response, okay?"

And so he was casted off with a single salute, and slowly strolled off around the stadium alone. Hopefully an unfriendly face could pop up to demand his attention, but for the present he would be alone. People just sickened him.

[Khaowan Tarbrea]

Zabrak were not common amongst the Imperial ranks, but the Imperial Intelligence was different. The agency carried a flush of irregular characters, all peculiar, but intelligent. If one hauled the talent and standard traits for an agent then they were taken in.

Khaowan was just another product of such clear cut concepts. A relevant addition to the Internal Affairs of the Empire, he was either overlooked or feared. People never grasped his presence without an Imperial rank aligned to their name. Instead they simply saw him as another Zabrak pressed up against a seat, watching and observing with the rest.

And he was certain to blend in. Why stand out? Throwing his hands up, he screamed with the rest of the crowd as his cool, collective eyes took in the moment.

Citizens certainly enjoyed the presence of the Empire for such a flock of Rebels terrorizing the galaxy. Khaowan laughed at the thought, but kept it in as he continued to follow the norm of the numerous other faces amidst the audience.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena frowned. Something wasn't right. The Chancellor was supposed to be blown to bits by now.

"C'mon, you told me this would work..." She muttered under her breath, resisting the urge to call Laprovik on his commlink. Furious that she'd agreed to wait in the wings, Lilaena could do nothing but watch the holofeed. And wait.

[Byl Laprovik]

Byl applauded loudly, raising his clapping hands above his head and pressing forward with the throng.

It was close.

He had to think about something else. Think about sports. Think about loving a woman. Think about that boring speech. Anything but what was about to happen. He needed to look just as suprised.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

She fingered her commlink as Anar seemed to be wrapping up his speech and nothing had happened to him yet. She was going to kill Laprovik.

[Tiberius Anar]

"How else would we have overcome the challenges of the last twenty-five years?

The Separatists!

The Jedi Insurrection!

Alien incursions!

Public disorder!

Disease of a million kinds!

Famine on a million worlds!

What else could we have done to meet these challenges? Sat down and talked them through? A committee meeting? Consultation with every citizen?

No! There was and is no other way to master such challenges. Only decisive action, commanded from the centre and directed with unwavering determination can win in such wars. That is what was needed and that is what the Party provided."

[Tal Kellison]

Exactly! Strong centralized power and military discipline -- that's what the galaxy needed to keep things in order. To Kellison, everything on the list represented his greatest fears: uncertainty and chaos. The Empire and the military were the rudder that kept the galaxy on a steady course towards progress and advancement. Without it, she'd spin out of control.

As if to confirm his approval, Kellison smartly saluted the screen.

[Tiberius Anar]

Anar allowed the audience to bellow its approval. As he waited for them to quiet down a bit he wondered, somewhat irrelevantly, whether the vendors out there had stocked up on throat lozenges.

Where did that come from? he wondered [/I]Must be the adrenaline.[/I]

He smiled beatifically at the audience and continued. Somehow they did not seem nearly as terrifying as they had done before.

"Could such great things be done by any other regime? Could peace, security, justice and prosperity have been won so comprehensively in so short a time by any other regime? No.

"No, because no other regime could ever have the will, to find the knowledge, to summon up the courage to achieve these seemingly impossible things."

The audience was carried away with its enthusiasm, scaling new heights of energy and new levels on the soundboards of the recording equipment.

In the wings, Arak turned to the nearest bodyguard. "Give your guys the high sign. He's wrapping up."

[Bette Davis]

Bette clapped dutifully, but the roar of the crowd was killing her head. She kept her smile pasted on her face though, and silently cursed the noise.

Chancellor Anar was wrapping up, but she still had to stand there while various other smaller dignitaries took the stage for presentations and speeches. The only consolation was that by then the sun wouldnt be in her eyes anymore.

[Tiberius Anar]

Anar was bit back on the desire to gabble the end of his speech. He had wanted to get off the stage as quickly as possible, but now he was enjoying himself. He was good at this. He was really good at this. He looked out over the sea of faces before him and set out on the last few lines of his speech.

"The achievements of the Empire have been great and good. Under the hand of the Party much has been achieved. We have every right to be proud of what we have done."

The yelling was really quite impressive, even by the standards of what had gone before. Anar looked at the text and continued his oration.

"And will what we have done be swept away by the pathetic rebellion?"

The audience actually answered him with a mighty shout of "NO!" Anar blinked. He had not expected that.

"No, indeed, my friends," he extemporised causing several speech writers to look up sharply at their vid screens in sudden alarm. They were relieved to discover that their boss was capable of the occasional improvisation as he swiftly got back to the text.

"No. For we are united! We are strong! And we know where we are going! And just as that created the Empire, so it shall save it. Just as it has endured, so the Empire.

"Will.

"Endure."

The audience rose as a massive wave. A huge roar of united voices went up.

Anar stood motionless for a moment, mesmerised by his own oratorical prowess. Then he realised how dry his mouth was. He reached out and took the glass of water on the lectern.

The adrenaline pumping through his body had made his nerves tense. His hand shook as he lifted the glass, water spilling over his hand. He decided against the drink. It would not look good on the cameras to see his hands shaking. He returned the glass to the coaster, spilling a little more as he went.

Then over it all the noise of the stadium came a terribly gratifying noise. They were chanting his name.

"Anar! Anar! Anar!"

This drove all thought of water from Anar's mind. He waved to his audience and then turned to find one of the party officials standing at his side ready to shake his hand and offer congratulations. That moment would become quite famous. It was one of the only pieces of footage of that particular official and would be played over and over in the coming days.

Anar waved to the audience again. The audience roared out its approbation once more. He turned to leave, walking back up the stage towards the massed ranks of party worthies.

Then it happened.

[Byl Laprovik]

The flash.

To my benefit, it caught me by suprise, just like everybody else. The sound boomed through the auditorium, reverberating in my ears as I braced for the inevitable blast of displaced air in the shockwave. It came, air rippling lightly over my uniform and hair, as a column of white smoke and lingering light debris took the place of the Chancellor's stage and podium.

I couldn't see him. He'd been walking away from the podium, but the blast was of good size. It had to be enough.

The pandemonium was beginning. I steeled myself as bodies began to press and sway around me.

[Lamar Starworth]

The flash.

It was not to Lamar's benefit. Surprise overwhelmed him into a shock impulse, his body flailing into a flinch as his focus diverted. Finally as his attuned vision captured the coliseum beside him, he listened intently for the change of affairs. There was certainly going to be a comm. coming in, and his body beacon at the inevitable.

Dashing across the parking lot, he ran through the cigarra free area. A leap and bound lifted him over parked speeders, his polished armor skidding over their hull. Combat and old teachings resonated as his body pumped through with adrenaline latent from the previous shock. He absorbed the event all he could. The numerous possibilities that swarm his mind gave him all the necessary commodities need to fuel him forth.

In record time he had reached the squad, their bodies showcasing fearful, while the standard helmets spelled terror. A very awkward sight to see, and so he still maintain a discomfort. Something had gone wrong.

"Kijic, what happened?"

"..."

[Bette Davis]

It was madness. Utter and complete mayhem. Picking herself up off the ground, her dress uniform ruined by the blast, Lieutenant Commander Davis thought she would remember the sound of the explosion for the rest of her life. Vaping a bogey in space was quiet, painless. As silent as everything around her was now. People were scrambling around. The people seated nearest the podium seemed to be scattered around the dias, in pieces.

She stepped on something: a finger. Shuddering, she knelt by the nearest body and felt for a pulse. The white haired man's heart was still beating, but from the back he didn't look too good.

Two uniformed officers rushed over, shouting at her, but she couldn't hear anything over the ringing in her ears. They helped her turn the man over. It was Anar, and his eyes were open. He was still conscious.

Bette took a moment to look the General Secretary in the eyes. He seemed a nice enough man.

[Khaowan Tarbrea]

He watched, carefully.

The static overwhelmed the traffic highway sent throughout the galaxy. A feed normally was smother with quality and quantity. People could be seen far and wide, but today there was a slight difference. There was an abundance of quantity. Steams of fume coated the vision as the Zabrak watched with sharpened senses.

Everything fell into a disturbance as the blast coated the air. Allowing the datapad to drop from his hand to the warmth of his pocket, he felt his cold blood run into a tremble. Albeit the event was right before him, he was in an audience of beings. A datapad was a commodity that allowed him to gain a better view.

Yet, the view had taken abroad. The change of affair painted the whole nation now. Reactions of the eruption shown in clamor and chaos. Khaowan simply gazed, but only for a moment. All he needed was a glimpse, and he was gone. Heading silently as possible through the fields of flesh, tamper by fear.

Not a pint of emotion took his face as he exited the building.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena wasted no moments after the explosion flashed on the holofeed, flicking away the stim and jumping into the ambulance. She waited only five seconds to flick on the sirens and lights, and then she pulled away from the pedwalk and headed in towards the stadium.

[Tiberius Anar]

Pain.

That was all he was really concious of: pain. He could not localise it, he could not reason out his meaning. There was just pain. Why?

Then he saw a face, a young woman's face, framed by a spray of hair that seemed to be in disarray. What on the worlds?

Then there were more faces, familiar faces, the faces of his bodyguards. They reached out and grabbed him, pulling him up and bearing him away.

"Oh dear..."

[Lamar Starworth]

Not a soul had seen it.

Behind the white shimmer, and black lens drenched shock. Discord finger his mind, the music accord distress. A contempt fiddled his eyes and he grimaced at the thought. The subordinate had divulged the information quite hesitantly, but still the husk over his pores kept it's armor strong. There was no space for the truth to spindle a web into his memory banks.

He would not be tripped up by the truth. Not so readily.

Lamar's eyes shifted and blinked. Cautious glances captured the scenery as the nearby parking lot sustained the fill of speeders. Even a large shuttle hover over the surface closer to the frontier of the stadium. Only moments before the boom roared over the crowd, depleting all chances of normality. One causality still echoed over in his hear, and still his barren sense could not clasp the logic.

It took moments, but it felt like a decade. He had to age in that time, he had to swallow the situation whole and with common sense. A sigh drizzled over behind the vents of his Stormtrooper helm and he drifted forth. Commands were necessary to keep the growing hostility from becoming an utter catastrophic riot.

"Calls to the command base. Send riot control to the exit and entrance. Patrols to the exterior, and await the ambulance's exit before we are sent in for safe guarded deliverance of other officials.

Get in contact with the interior post. We need to converse with them about the current situation. Giving us updates every five minutes.

Move out, men. We must sustain post in patrols until the official patrol come.

Over!"

And they fanned out. Commission and drills practiced kept their steps intent and incisive. Determination instilled by the teachings back at the Academy formatted them with a morale that could not be tarnish by notice of infiltration. Much more was necessary to waiver their spirits completely.

Lamar knew this to be all too true.

[Stormtrooper]

Interior motives were to sustain. Much of the guards were there for the purpose of internal affairs. Most of the crowd could easily get out of hand, and the stance of the Empire was to command and control any chaos that might uprise. Albeit it was plausible that infiltration may occur, it was unlikely. Such an event would be casually decoded by the remedial basis of their schedule, format and job performance. There no requirement for extra acts...or at least normally.

The moment had turned to the worst, far from the norm. Stormtroopers spilled beyond the crowds, falling at the entrance as the command center roared over the channel. Sounds barraged their earpieces within the helms, and hands quickly struck for the standard blasters to maintain safety.

Floods of beings swung about in disorder. Struggle sped the movements up. Maneuvers and wards contained the doors as numerous troopers flush over from once invisible doors. Many had formed for such occasions. A host of Stormtroopers rested for back-up underneath the stadium's grounds for such unforeseen situations. Anything could happened on any day, especially with the tirade of the Galactic Civil War ravaging the planet.

Grace and effortless calm pressed through the highly appraised fleet.

"No one will be leaving under order returns to this coliseum."

The words were heard about the exits as platoons stood as statues. Blasters lifted to their chest, there was not a being in there that would dare test the might of the Empire. Not at this time. Not at a place so stressed. Even a flinch may merit a blaster burn.

Only seconds before they chanted the name of the Empire's beloved politician, and now they seemed to be at pathetic end of a blasters. Not that it wasn't to be expected. Most felt comfortable at this end. At least no one was going to die this way. All they had to do was shut up and stop moving about like little buffoons.

[Bette Davis]

Anar was being helped away, and Davis found her own way off the platform, a med tech finally coming to her side. Her ears had begun to ring loudly, which she supposed was a good sign, but she still couldn't hear anything anyone was saying.

Forgive me if I don't salute. Bette was laid down on a makeshift pallet, awaiting the emergency crews that were surely arriving.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The ambulance drove up to the stadium, about thirty seconds ahead of the fleet of emergency vehicles that were descending on the place. Lilaena was waved through quickly, and she was stopped by a squad of stormtroopers somewhere behind the stage.

She hopped out, dressed in her paramedic blues, and flashed the troopers her ident cards. Fake, of course. The panic of the moment was such that they barely glanced at it before pointing her in the direction of their most honored guest. Anar.

He'd survived, but seemed to be in bad shape. She ran to the back of the ambulance as his aides brought him closer, opening up the double doors and pulling out the gurney. Her hands were shaking, but she managed to disguise it with movement as she helped the aides get Anar settled on the gurney.

[Tiberius Anar]

The two bodyguards did not take time to consider the speed with which the ambulance had arrived nor the lack of additional medical staff with the vehicle. They were just too busy thinking about getting the Chancellor to a hospital to think about how they were going about achieving that end. They lept into the back of the ambulance, shouting to the paramedic to get them moving.

Later they would feel very, very foolish. One of them would also be very, very dead so he would not have to live with that feel for too long.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

Lilaena hopped back into the front of the ambulance, and the siren and flashing lights flipped back on as she pulled the vehicle out of the lot. She gave her commlink a triple-click, just in case Laprovik was still paying attention. Confirmation of package received.

[Byl Laprovik]

The slightest flash of a smile met Byl's face, and quickly vanished as he moved through the milling crowd. The Empire had predictably locked the premises down. Undaunted, Laprovik bided his time, playing the rubberneck as he pushed along with the crush of the crowd, craning to get a better look at the crime scene.

[Tiberius Anar]

The ambulance raced through the skylanes of Coruscant weaving and dodging, sending other vehicles reeling out of its path. Seated in the back, cushioned to some extent by the best inertial dampening that money could buy, Tiberius Anar's bodyguards were going through their.

The younger of the two, Jarek Onno, was looking at his shaking hands. He was barely twenty-five and his experience suitably limited. He had been rather shocked by the sight of his protectee flying through the air, by the mess and the noise. His training had, of course, kicked in and carried him through but he was now feeling the after-effects.

His companion, an older man called Xel Marr, or "Bruiser Marr" to those in the know, was doing somewhat better. His hands were steady and his breath controlled. He had seen a few incidents of this sort before so he was not so surprised. Of course, he would succumb to the same after-effects later on, he was sure, it would just take a little longer.

Right now, Xel's mind, temporarily overriden by insinctive reaction, was coming back to its rightful place. He lifted his sleeve to his mouth to put in his call to control. They would want to know that the Chancellor was en route to a hospital.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

The ambulance slowed, pulling over and slipping between two buildings. Lilaena flew into an alley built into one of the 'scrapers, and backed the ambulance up towards a pair of double doors.

No one came running out to greet them, but she hopped out as quickly as she could and came around to the back of the ambulance, pulling her blaster out as she came around to the back of the vehicle.

[Lamar Starworth]

Everything had grown stagnant.

Motion had ceased within the coliseum and the ambulance had drifted off at the push of the fuel engines. Haste had brought the calamity under cold scrutiny. The icy stares of the Stormtroopers sent frigid trails down the backside of any perpetrator that be. Many candidates and officers took up arms for that strong feeling of superiority, and finally the goal had been fulfilled. The rush of adrenaline pumped inside the thorough veins, and so many couldn't help but smile at the newfound high.

Lamar wasn't of such a breed.

Unlike the many vile critters hidden behind the horrific shells, he had been raised properly. At least enough to regard fellow beings with respect. Throughout the bustle of the hushed coliseum murmur sounds of disgust. Civilians spat, and grew with disdain at the push and shoving of one another. The true catalyst of the distinction flowed from the Stormtroopers.

In only a matter of seconds the units had grown rough, or disrespected the many aliens about. The COMPNOR had swindled the men of their senses. Some how they had configured the concept that they were better than anyone else. Funny how in only a second a superior could walk in and the fools would go fumbling to a salute.

Lamar could only shake his head as he continued on with the procedures. He felt wrong...he allowed it all to happened.

He allowed it ALL....

[Byl Laprovik]

"Pardon me, excuse me."

I stumbled along through the crowd, milling my way toward the exit and nearest access to the restroom. Unfortunately for the people I'd jostled nearby, I'd grazed their ankles with a barb on my shoe, containing a fast-acting cardiotoxin. Within thirty seconds, three people would be going into early cardiac arrest. Entirely treatable if caught early, but to do so would cause a massive distraction. Not that I gave a damn who lived or died in here, but sometimes the melodrama was more desirable than the end results.

Fortunately, the guards were interested in keeping people indoors, and little else. I exited the amphitheatre and circled about for the nearest refresher sign.

[Khaowan Tarbrea]

Outside the theater laid silence. The congested insides continued to be consumed by ruins. Few ears could evade the barrage of bawls, or calls for change in the distance. Inside remained the shuffle, but many of the citizen were loyal. No fool would dare contest the presence of the Empire at such a sanctum. Imperial City was sacred grounds, untested and impossible to penetrate. Fear strolled the pathway of any ordinary Rebel insurgent that remained. Even the brave were restrained by an element of caution.

The evidence even lay in the contradictory occurrence at hand. No face reached the crowd to remark of a Rebellion. The Alliance was a string of guerrilla attacks, aimed for the small and deadly. In event of an assassination, the Imperial Intelligence would be converged into a whirlwind of trouble. Not a man would rest until a trail led back to the vice within the system.

Rarely had such adversity staged itself against the Empire. On the scale of a Galactic presentation overcame an explosion that would rattle the galaxy. Despite the endless reminder in the air, the Zabrak could not help but smile on his solitude outside. Alike many of his profession, his mind did not heed in thought. Contemplation wasn't even a word he could regard. Endless meditation deviated his maneuvers. He was a controlled substance, a material of the New Order, prepared for all situation. Even the unexpected would not disturb his keen foresight.

Moments enrolled the pleasant Zabrak into a patience. Seconds had separated a quick beckon through his comm. unit. In a blink a speeder blasted through the stuffed lot, halting quickly before the agent without a stop to the engine. A calm step separated Khaowan from the turmoil behind him and off into a concentrated next move.

[Aminn]

"What now?"

The traffic beyond the central profusion remained a cataclysmic influx. Idiotic lament proclaimed man's anxious souls. Gloom bellow from the planet's footing to the chaotic head. Craziness enamored the Imperial City, blessing every spirit with dreadful kiss. Demise had not struck the core so callous since the Emperor's departure. Palpatine sustain eternally a grand figure amongst simpletons. No commoner could rival the adept aptitude of the Emperor, but the uncommon seemed likely to.

Surprise arose about as the word spread through the city in push by the explosion. Winds casted currents a long, allowing the awful horror to terrorize every figure. Some men had diverted to defense as the possibilities arose of an invasion. No longer was the Deep Core secure. Few could alter their scrutiny from the adversaries of the Galactic Civil War. Before the bout engross the galaxy, but the possible notion engraved even Coruscant.

No one was safe anymore.

At least Imperial civilians weren't.

The fine, contrasted visage yanked back to the rear of the speeder. Tinted windows curtain the scene as the youth's eyes devour the Zabrak's image. Khaowan was a familiar face, but the Arkanian had learned well to define the details. A derailed mind could fall on the wrong track, and the boy could not fail as a conductor. He observed as the Imperial agent flung his rugged attire off and changed quickly. The Imperial Palace was off a little way, yet it was necessary with the city's military downpour.

No umbrella could cast away the Empire's reign.

"Imperial Palace, right?"

A smirk perched on the kid's lips. Despite his age, the Arkanian had dealt with the galaxy's extreme daily. The Imperial Palace was just another place he had visited on more than a few times on official business. Once again he and Khaowan would be making another unexpected drop-in, but day shaped well for unpleasant surprises.

[Tiberius Anar]

"What the frell?" demanded Breber, "What do you mean we've lost the Chancellor?"

Breber was standing on the stage near the charred remains of the podium and the rather grizzly mass of red that had been a mid-level Party official occupying the podium at the time of the explosion. The agent standing before the bemused colonel repeated his report. No sign of the Chancellor or any part of him either on the dais or backstage. The close guards were no where to be found either. The colonel swore again.

As colonel and agents puzzled over this mystery the comm crackled again. Breber paid it no mind, he was too busy trying to figure out whether losing his protectee was a shooting or resigning offence. He did not register what his deputy, Alak, was saying until the second attempt.

"I said, 'we have him, sir'. Ambulance picked him up, close agents are with him."

"Ambulance?" Breber's mind began to whir. He had a bad feeling about this.

"Yes, sir. Emergency lift arrived and collected him. I have Agent Marr on the line now sir."

"Ambulance?"

"Yes, sir," Major Alak's brows were furrowed, "Is there something wrong, sir?"

"I don't..."

A burst of noise and a yell of pain interrupted the colonel. It came from the commlink.

[Lilaena De'Ville]

After the doors opened, Lilaena shot the first bodyguard in the head. It was a messy shot, sending a spray of blood and brains all over the Chancellor's body and the second guard. She aimed quickly for the latter, but the guard threw something at her that caused her to flinch and miss.

A commlink bounced off her chest and fell to the ground. She stepped on it as she moved closer to re-aim, the decay of the obviously vacant building to her back casting a dreary backdrop to Anar's upcoming death.

[Tiberius Anar]

Jarek Onno was looking directly at his comrade when it happened. He saw it all. The look of confusion, of worry and then fear that had crossed Xel's face. The turn to the door, the mad grab for the blaster. The horrible, horrible end. The spray of red, grey and black that ended a long career and a life. He saw it all.

He saw it all and reacted in a surprising way. Rather than panic as he had always secretly thought he might, rather than vomit as he had when shown footage of an assasination as part of his training he reacted with speed and skill. It was, according to the report into the incident, quite laudible.

The distraction caused by the commlink's impromtu flight was enough to allow him to get to his own weapon. Even as the stranger with the blaster moved towards him his hand moved in a smooth motion he reached, pulled and fired...

[Lilaena De'Ville]

A swift jerk with the Force pointed the second guard's blaster towards the wall of the ambulance, and a bolt discharged through the side of the vehicle. Then the blaster ripped out of his grasp, to his horror, and flew upwards, catching him underneath the jaw.

His teeth clicked as his jaw was forced shut by the blow, and he reeled backwards, momentarily dazed. Lilaena hopped into the back of the ambulance and punched him in the temple. The guard's eyes rolled up in his head, and for a moment it was silent in the back of the ambulance. Silent except for the dripping sounds coming from the corpse closest to the doors.

Anar was awake, she saw, and feeble. She could have put a hundred blaster bolts into him before the guard came back around. There was a nasty head wound that had stopped bleeding but was no doubt making him woozy and unsure of his surroundings.

Please, just remember this. "Chancellor Anar, I have been comissioned to kill you." Lilaena gently slapped the older man's cheek as it appeared he too would pass out. "I am not going to. The Executor wants you dead, Chancellor, and so I think I will keep you alive."

She rummaged in his jacket pocket, and pulled out his commlink. Pressing it into his hand, she added, "Your guard fought bravely, and though he won't remember much, I believe he sent your would-be assassin packing. Do not trust anyone, Chancellor, if you wish to survive the end of the Empire."

Lilaena pulled out a non-descript blade, and nicked Anar's shoulder with it before slashing a cut across her own arm. Dropping the knife in front of the guard, who was coming around, she jumped out of the back of the ambulance and disappeared.

[Byl Laprovik]

Finding the refresher, I paused when I noted the stormtrooper standing guard at it's entrance. He leveled a blaster at me as I approached, but I raised my hand in protest.

"I gotta take a leak. There's no crime against that."

He lowered his weapon, but still seemed cagey.

"Two minutes." was his terse reply.

"Okay thanks."

I entered, and quickly went to work. If I'd read the layout right, this restroom was along the outermost facade. The urinals stood in a row on the far wall. Barring disaster, this would work.

I gave each of my bootheels a swift kick with the toe of the other, dislodging the heels themselves. A small hidden compartment held what looked like two small bars of soap. In reality, they were the same binary explosive compound used to destroy Anar's podium. These were encased in a thin layer of a gelatinous, water-soluble material. A layer I hoped for my sake didn't wear off too fast.

Being in a true, cosmopolitan Coruscanti refresher, there were no running taps. Everything was either vaporized or sonic-cleansed. All very clean and proper. Not very convenient for a guy who needed water as a catalyst for a bomb.

Fortunately, I wasn't lying to that stormtrooper.

I placed both binary explosive packs in the base of the urinal, undid my fly, and answered the call of nature. As I watched the stream, all I could think about was hoping the gelatin would last longer than I would. I could see it start to bubble. What a horrible way to go - being blown away bollocks-first by a quarter kilogram urine bomb. Not every assassin's tool could be glamorous I guess.

I finished up as the gelatin was starting to recede, and made my way out, not bothering to hit the vaporization button. Zipping my fly, I exited, nodding to the trooper as I went down the hall.

[Tiberius Anar]

The trooper felt just a little foolish about it but orders were orders. As the civilian headed down the hall, Trooper RS-190 stepped through the door into the fresher. He looked around. Nothing out of the ordinary. How ludicrous that he should have to check in the first place, in future he wouldn't bother.

He noticed that the urinal had not been cleared. Civillians have no sense of cleanliness. That could cause disease in the field.

He reached out to hit the vaporise button and something else caught his eye. Two lumps of something.

"Huh?"