Years From Now...

[Kal Cimmerian]

Cimmerian/Kazaar's smile faded first. "Wanna tell me why you want me in on this job?" He lit up another cigar, ignorin' the glare he got from Estelle. "Ain't like ya don't have a ton o'wannabes running 'round lookin' t'earn their inked stripes. Or did ya get rid o'that little monument when ya kicked me outta ya little clubhouse."

"I thought it would be obvious." Russard answered sharply.

A snort. "What? Ya wanna 'catch up' on old times? C'mon, I ain't a complete moron. Ya pulled a frackin' power play on th'Belargics." Smoke billowed from the mouth of Russard's ex-partner and she could smell alcohol. "Just 'cause I decided t'go t'them with my info instead o'to you? Kad's destroyin' wave...ya really have become like 'im." Cimmerian shook his head. "Black Man got 'is frackin' wish. Helluva person t'take after...Kid."

[Master Laran]

For a moment, Serena did not know what was happening. It was like being inside the eye of a storm. One minute she was getting pressed back by the infected, and the next...

Everything exploded away from her - not into pieces but just thrown back like a giant had started throwing punches. Serena crouched down with her lightsaber at the ready, so close now to the children that she could hear their whimpers over the roar to the storm that surrounded them. The ripple affect continued for some time, and the windows of the stores that surrounded them blew out all at once when the wave of energy hit them.

A'na. The Jedi turned to look at the woman, the woman who had been able to hide her expertise in the Dark side from a master of the Force. The woman was slumped down, shot multiple times. Her daughter was clinging to her side, wide-eyed and silent.

There was no time. And yet, there was a little time, as the infected did not immediately reswarm. Serena gathered up the other children quickly, trying to access A'na's situation. Was she dying? The Jedi felt that the answer to that question was yes.

A shout and movement got her attention, and Serena looked up to see two figures sprinting towards them through the carnage. She stiffened, getting ready to defend... to attack... but one of the figures pulled off its helmet, revealing a mass of red-gold curls.

"Rhianna!" She didn't bother hiding her relief. "Thank the Force you're here."

[Emperor Ave]

Silence held in the Emperor's study. He looked up, to the window that afforded the tower a view of the world. In the distant sky, the dark shape of Bogden could be seen; it was a way-point upon the Hydian Way, whose course intersected with the Perlemian trade lines. If Brentaal IV was already falling into rioting, it was only a matter of time before the worlds of the Hydian hyperroute were infected.

Salem gave a hmph, a mixture of irritation and amusement. What game was being played here? Did they seek to trap him on Kohlma, or to smoke him out? The moon was well defended, he had made sure of that, but he had no desire to be locked in its ivory towers forever. He wouldn't be seen to-

The train of thought ended abruptly, unbidden, and a look of distraction crossed his features. He turned to Razielle.

“Beatrix..?”

Their daughter was on Arkania, completing her education. Although Salem had been assured that all traffic was on lockdown to his homeworld, he could not deny the strange and sudden sense of anxiety that had seized him.

[A'na]

A'na sighed, a globule of blood on her lip as she gazed at her daughter. "Go..."

The Jedi Master was gathering up the other children as two newcomers joined the little party. The children would be safe. As safe as they could be, in the circumstances. "Go with the Jedi, Jade."

The little girl nodded, her palest green eyes welling up with tears. "Mama..."

"I love you -" her voice broke, and with a last bit of strength A'na kissed Jade's forehead and then pushed her away. "I'll be right behind you." She looked up at Serena, who knew it was a lie, and shook her head slightly. There was no time for words, no explainations could be sought or given.

In that moment of eye contact, however, the Jedi seemed to understand. She gently tugged Jade away from A'na's side, and swept her up into her arms. "We will take care of her, A'na."

"I... I -" She coughed, spitting up a little more blood, and nodded. I know you will.

The children and the Jedi did not hesitate any longer, although the two newcomers might have given her a few strange looks as they left her behind.

A'na pulled herself up into a sitting position, back against a potted tree as she laid her blaster on her lap, waiting for the infected to come again. She was not afraid to die. She closed her eyes lightly and opened herself up to the Force, feeling the rage as it danced just outside the bubble of calm that centered around her.

She was ready to die for her sins.

[A'na's story is continued here] (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=18369)

[Mac Ravenwing]

"So we've got a few hours before your mother gets here," her voice dripped with the very essence of conspiracy, and she let a hand wander beneath his shirt to poke at his belly button.

"Whatever shall we do?"
Mac grinned, pinning her hands and pulling her towards him. "I think we can figure out something to keep us from getting too bored..." Ne nuzzled her smooth neck, and time stood still, at least for them.

Two hours later, Mac and Teagan were walking towards the 'port that his mother was expected to dock in. They were very close when he suddenly grabbed her by the hand, pulling her up short in front of a large vid screen that was on GNN. "This can't be good... they're advising everyone to refuse ships that have come from Coruscant and Chandrila."

"Feathers isn't flying from either of those planets, she was at Kuat, right?"

Mac grunted in the affirmative. "Still, panic is going to start settling in. It won't be long until anyone flying from the Core is going to be getting less than a warm welcome." He grimaced, "Whatever the hell is going on, the Empire is doing a frelling good job of keeping the rim in the dark."

Teagan frowned, probably thinking what he was thinking - that her mom probably could tell them a hell of a lot. She was also probably up to her neck in it.

"Frell, she's here," Mac yelped, catching a glance of his mother's tug moving slowly past a transparisteel window. Tugging on Teagan's hand once more he said, "C'mon, we're going to have to hurry to meet her at the docks." The two Lupines broke into a run, dodging through the crowded streets of Cloud City.

[Master s'Ilancy-Prent]

Mon Calamari

Lok knew well enought hat she'd been seen by the Director, and gave the other woman a smile as she concluded her business with Arya. Switching off her comm, the elder Lupine replaced it into one of the many pockets hidden by her robes.

She approached Director Belargic with a genial smile, an expression that covered the far more disturbing notions going on in her own thoughts. She gave a small bow.

"Cousin."

It was one of the more customary greetings known to Lupine culture, and one that it seemed s'Il was the only practitioner of. It did not unsettle her in any degree. Moreso she held an underlying feeling of contentness at having discovered over the years that her people were not completely wiped out as she'd thought.

Of course there was the disturbing bit of knowledge that Grace's brother Vega had carried on in the traditional Van-Derveld insanities, but Grace herself had been wonderfully spared that sickness of the mind.

[Director Belargic]

Cousin. It was a greeting that s'Il had begun addressing her once the Director had accepted her lineage as part of the Lupine clans. It no way was she fully welcoming of it, but her own curiosity about the Lupines seemed to develop further throughout the years since s'Il approached her. It was the hesitancy that often the Master Jedi faced. Grace was too afraid of becoming lost in a sea of darkness like her brother.

It was why the Director never followed through with Serena Laran's invitation to join the Jedi. Laran had sensed great potential in Grace to become a powerful Jedi Knight, but all the Rebel Agent could think of was the destruction that Vega had caused and how inhuman he had become. He had turned into this generations version of Vader and anything that could link Grace to the same fate, she didn't want any part of it.

"Greetings, Master Jedi." Grace keyed pressed a button on the access panel that allowed the doors to her office open. "Is there something I can help you with?"

[Master s'Ilancy-Prent]

Mindful of the delicate nature of her business, Lok only gave a nod as she was ushered into the Director's office, and once the door had closed, she stood patiently. She would only sit when invited to, and not before.

In privacy, the Lupine bowed her head, eyes closing in contemplative thought.

Without looking up, she spoke.

"I felt it, before the Council met. Before your daughter brought the news. Many of us felt it, but Bryna was the one that put a face to our fears."

[Navaria Tarkin]

They kept a brisk pace, the four of them, and as they neared the hanger with it's modest bank of ships Wyl broke cadence and took the lead; Amira followed him and the two Knights boarded a vessel.

Wyl immediately strode into the cockpit and slipped into the pilot's chair; despite only a vague familiarity with this model of ship, he moved with the certainty of someone very much in their element. It was no surprise - the man had twenty-odd years of flying under his belt and it showed in the easy movements and efficient manner with which he began to prepare for flight.

Beside him, in the co-pilot's seat, Amira brought the navcomputers online and raised an inquisitive brow at Wyl.

"I've heard you're something of a reckless pilot." She remarked offhand. It was common knowledge (to those that knew her, at least) that the Jedi was not a fan of ships.

"It's not recklessness if you know what you're doing."

"And you know what you're doing?"

Wyl nodded and replied simply, "Yes." I learned from the best.

"Well all the same." Amira's gentle voice held a hint of doubt overtop of it's grave seriousness. "I think I'll take point."

They lapsed into a companionable silence until Daria and Lianna entered the compact space. Wyl glanced up from securing his safety webbing and moved one hand to the ship's communicator. "What's Bryna's code?"

Navaria slipped in behind Wyl and fastened the harness, securing herself in properly. She was all too aware of how bumpy a ride this could be. Wyl enjoyed flying a little ... too much!

"Here." She swiveled the chair around and punched in her access code which brought up a list of transponder codes for the Jedi. Bryna's was highlighted and linked over to Wyl's controls. "I downloaded it onto your console. I felt her presence as soon as she entered the system, so it won't take long for a rendezvous."

[Director Belargic]

Mindful of the delicate nature of her business, Lok only gave a nod as she was ushered into the Director's office, and once the door had closed, she stood patiently. She would only sit when invited to, and not before.

In privacy, the Lupine bowed her head, eyes closing in contemplative thought.

Without looking up, she spoke.

"I felt it, before the Council met. Before your daughter brought the news. Many of us felt it, but Bryna was the one that put a face to our fears."

All though s'Il could not see it, Grace's face grew dour at the mention of her daughter. She was completely in the dark of what horrors faced her only child in the wake of the outbreak. It was only a handful of times when the Director felt utterly helpless. "I figured as much."

She took a deep breath and turned around, her professional exterior masking everything that was troubling her. "Now the question begs, what are the Jedi going to do about it."

[Master s'Ilancy-Prent]

Now came the hard part. The revisiting of that hurried comm from Master Henning that she'd recieved. It was not something that she wished to dwell on, but it was a terrible portent all the same.

"We are... unsure."

Not the answer that the Director would want to hear she knew, but Lok felt it the only fitting one.

"I was unable to fully participate in the Council's meeting, so I do not know of its' full outcome. There was talk of war, of cutting Coruscant off from the rest of the galaxy, and of blockading Vortex. I do not know the final decision, and I wish that I did."

The Lupine paused, staring at the regal carpeting beneath her bootsoles.

"One of our Masters was injured on Coruscant already. Another is on Chandrila as we speak. We are so far spread out, and this has caught us badly."

[Director Belargic]

Her lips fell into a sad smile. "It seems we have a lot in common with the Jedi, for there is similar talk amongst the Alliance. They are still in meetings deciding our fate."

The Director fell into the chair behind the desk and sighed, the weight of this problem etching into tired lines across her features. "But it looks grim."

[Master Nytherciria]

Daria took her seat alongside Navaria, behind Amira. Once upon a time, the Jedi Master had been much like the blonde-haired Knight sitting before her – terrified of space-flight, but with time it was an anxiety that she had mastered. Yet, in spite of this, her hand sought Navaria's for a moment, squeezing it, taking some reassurance from the contact. Her features, however, remained a picture of resolute determination.

“Bryna is already awaiting our arrival. We should make haste.”

[Master s'Ilancy-Prent]

For a moment Lok was quiet, unsure of what to say or do. It'd been a while since she'd felt such things, and it was a distinctly unwelcome feeling.

"I am taking my children to Schwartzweld. It is the only place that I know for certain will be safe. For now at least.

"Beyond that I... " she faltered then, but only for a moment. "Beyond that I do not know what to do."

Now it was time for more intricate and deep family matters to surface, and talk of the Jedi was pushed to the wayside for those that dealt with the two women's Lupine heritage.

"Your brother; he has done a terrible thing. I feel that he is partially, if not fully responsible for this. It is... unfortunate such a thing as he is counted among us."

[Teagan Staedtler]

Cloud City

Teagan let Mac pull her along for the first ten paces or so, but it wasn't long before she felt her body easily fall into that familiar rhythm of a gentle lope. She dodged passerby and ducked around clumps of gathered folk all staring up at the holo-feeds. Already she could hear in passing their concerned mutterings.

Keeping pace with Mac though, the young Losstarot wasn't about to let herself fall behind. Seeing Feathers again meant that there would no doubt be some sort of message from her own mother, and Teagan figured that it'd probably be a good idea to check in with her. Last time they'd talked had been almost a week ago, and even that, that hadn't been for very long.

As they approached the docks, she slowed herself up, reaching a hand out to pull Mac with her down to a brisk walk.

[Director Belargic]

The Director's posture noticeably stiffened as she leaned back in her chair. Elbows at the arms, her thin fingers locked together while she looked deep in thought. The Jedi Master was probably right. Vega's mind had grown so insane over the years and the Dark Side only continued to twist his thoughts further. He was chaotic and unpredictable. The Empire was idiotic thinking they could control him. You would have thought they had learned from their mistakes when the former Executor Sevon failed to reign the monster in.

"Yes well," she waved off the reality with a hand as Grace sat upright, "That is how things turned out. There's nothing we can do except try and contain the damage he's caused again."

Sympathy washed over the Director suddenly. As a mother, she could appreciate Lok wanting to protect her children. Too bad she couldn't take Bryna with her, but the Force had other plans for her child, which was infuriating. She could never accept that an unseen power controlled dictated destiny. "At least you have a contingency for the children."

[Director BlackOps]

"Black Man got 'is frackin' wish. Helluva person t'take after...Kid."

As usual, Kazaar presumed to know what he was talking about, but, as so often was the case where bitter feelings were left to fester in a person's psyche, he did not have all the facts. Russard contemplated setting the record straight, once and for all. But, even now belting him across his thick skull with the undiluted truth, she suspected, would be a waste of time. And counter-productive to her own ends. Aurelias was the kind of man who needed to hold a grudge - it gave him reason to wake up in the morning (or mid-afternoon, as was probably more his habit). It provided an inner drive that remained when all that fighting for the cause had devolved into couldn't-care-less, who-gives-a-damn apathy.

No, better a Kazaar fueled by a wrong sense of injustice and personal injury, than one meekened by self-abjugating regret. Besides...Estelle did not care to ease his sore feelings. She had quite a few of her own.

"You'll be happy to know Othniel left his office in very capable hands. Many of our old enemies could testify, or would, were they alive to do so." Cold words made even colder for their truth.

"I have brought you into this part of the arena as I recall you being up for just this type of agressive mission. You like to give the enemy a bloody nose every chance you can. It is my intention to do just that, and worse, the Force willing. And I know you are the one person who will not be afraid of the fallout from on high." She dropped sticking it to the Belargics as an added incentive. Not a proud moment for her, but she'd gotten used to such moments in her life.
Estelle also knew Cimmerian was utterly reliable, though their rift from the past is still very much an issue, her old partner would never, ever let her down. She needed his fearlessness. His resourcefullness. His hard-headed brute will to succeed.

She passed the slip of paper to her old partner, verbalizing as he read, his eyes squinting to filter the rising smoke of his cigar, "This latest Intel gives us the position of the Miranda".

Cimmerian gave an unhelpful shrug, "Never heard of it"

"Its a dungeon ship - a prisoner transport, among other things, no doubt"

"So?" Kal drew deeply making the cigar crackle loudly, insubordinately even, as it burned.

"....Sooo, it had been holding its position for some time" she explained. More crackling, more obnoxious cigar fumes. "..And it is taking on some of the fleeing ships. There's a good chance one of the occupants of these craft is the good Inquisitor, or perhaps Salem himself."

Cimmerian peered at her through the thin slits of his eyes, smoke curling lanquidly up the sides of his head making him look akin to a fierce dragon eyeing his prey before he strikes. All he needed do was lick his lips and the image would be complete.

Russard pre-empted his unspoken desire.

"We shall board her and take some prisoners of our own"