Private Devil in the Details

[Alicio Organa]

Vandelhelm, Capital City
Metalsmith's Guildhall
​

Vandelhelm was the third planet Alicio had visited, on his grand tour of new Alliance worlds.

He stood in the grand entryway of a sizable estate, shaking hands with a grizzled human. The blacksmith's hand was rough with callouses, and left behind a smudge of grease on the nobleman's palm, but the well-dressed Alderaanian didn't seem to mind, his smile small yet genuine, like the first rays of the morning sun. He seemed... comfortable. At ease. In his element, moreso than on any debate stage or broadcasted pedestal.

Word had gotten out that the new Vice Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance specialized in the minutia of governmental structuring. King Alicio Organa, long-time senator and ruler of Alderaan, was a monster when it came to civic construction. He'd been a city builder, and a damn good one at that, before filling Alderaan's senate seat. At first, an agricultural planet on the fringes of Alliance space asked for advice on trade routes, which led to Alicio helping them reinvigorate their infrastructure and practically rewrite their trade doctrine. Then, a growing world had requested him personally to help with their overpopulation issues. He'd consulted on the creation of an entirely new city, and had apparently impressed them with the specificity of his instructions, down to company recommendations for sewage treatment. That was when he got the call from Vandelhelm.

They'd been brought into the Alliance after surviving a terrifying raid by the old Mandalorian Crusaders. Many of their orbital shipyards had been damaged beyond repair, forcing them to devote time and credits to reconstruction. They'd run into administrative roadblock after administrative roadblock, greedy corporations and uncooperative guilds who stalled progress for the sake of self-interest. So they called in Senator Organa to solve the gridlock. He'd been to five different union halls this weekend alone, weaving a tangled web of contracts and permissions that he hoped would straighten out if he braided them in just the right way.

He wondered briefly what his new Padawan escort thought of it all. He couldn't imagine any of the Jedi he'd met being particularly enthused by governmental tedium, save for maybe Corazona von Ascania . He'd only just met Roman Vossari that morning, and already he'd dragged the poor boy along on three separate meetings about alloy production, or starship manufacture, or some combination of the two. Cloudy grey eyes found wherever the Jedi learner was lurking, and silently, he excused himself from the Guild representative, and approached.

"How are you holding up, Padawan Vossari?" His smirk, just as genuine, turned sharp with humor. "Tired yet?"

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm | Guildhall
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

Roman stood to the side of the grand entryway, arms crossed, watching the exchange between Vice Chancellor Alicio Organa and the grizzled blacksmith with varying degrees of wonder and confusion. Dressed in his casual Jedi robes, he felt like an outsider among the nobles and bureaucrats, albeit one who had been born into a family that played the same game they did. But this was different--this was a real-world application of the myriad negotiations he had witnessed from the sidelines for years.

Truth be told, he found the humdrum tedium of trade discussions infinitely more engaging than the carefully staged power plays his father often engaged in. Where his father focused on winning influence, Vice Chancellor Organa was about getting things done--an idea Roman found refreshing. He had admired the man from afar, already beginning to internalize the lessons of tenacity and practicality that seemed to emanate from him.

As he felt Alicio's gaze settle on him, Roman was jolted back to the present. The Vice Chancellor's smirk turned sharp with humor, and Roman couldn't help but feel a spark of admiration. This was a man who thrived in his element.

"Long day might be an understatement at this point," Roman replied, a playful grin tugging at his lips. "But I'm quite thankful for the opportunity to witness this firsthand, sir. It's an honor to see how the Alliance operates behind closed doors, and I understand how crucial this work is for a world like Vandelhelm. Every detail matters."

He paused, steadying himself as the conversation effectively pivoted from pleasantries to the challenges that lay ahead in the negotiations. "Even if, I'll admit, there are moments I do find myself daydreaming--imagining what it would be like if we were discussing lightsaber techniques instead. Your approach to these negotiations is different from what I've seen. You seem to genuinely care about the impact these agreements will have on their lives, not just on the Alliance."

Roman glanced toward the arrays of polished holo-screens illuminating charts and graphs detailing trade routes, ship designs, and projections for recovery. "I can see Vandelhelm is in good hands with you, Vice Chancellor. Let me know if there is anything I can do to help."

He took a deep breath, appreciating the current of professionalism that buzzed between them. The day may have been long and mentally taxing, but it was a rare and golden opportunity to learn from one of the Alliances's best.

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio let loose a puff of air from his nose as Roman revealed his fatigue. Despite all outward appearances, he was feeling it, too. "I know what you mean. But we're almost done today, I swear."

He paid rapt attention to the Jedi as he spoke, his rainy-day eyes hiding easy warmth. He remembered his younger years, assisting his cousin Faith Organa in negotiations, following her shadow, and absorbing as much information as he could. The senator imagined Roman might have feltthe same he had, all those years ago. "We're told to look at the big picture. Especially in the Senate. But our details are these people's whole lives. Someone has to sweat them. May as well be us."

He glanced back at the gathering of metalsmiths. They were catching up with each other, or trading pleasantries with his senate aides. It felt very natural, which was a good change of pace from the posturing he suffered through in the rotunda.

"Even if, I'll admit, there are moments I do find myself daydreaming--imagining what it would be like if we were discussing lightsaber techniques instead. Your approach to these negotiations is different from what I've seen. You seem to genuinely care about the impact these agreements will have on their lives, not just on the Alliance."

"At the risk of sounding cliché or preachy... these people are the Alliance. Of course I care." It was the kind of line Alicio imagined millions of politicians before him had used to placate their constituents. But he did mean it. "And... my wife is a Jedi Master, you know. I might be convinced to give you a few sparring pointers, if you finish the day strong." His smirk only strengthened. He was downplaying his skills a little, but they'd only just met. He wasn't one to reveal his hand too early.

"If you're looking for something to do... feel free to join the talks." He gestured towards the grizzled man he'd just left. "Some of these people are skeptical of the Alliance. They think we're here to sweet-talk them into a bad deal. That a large government couldn't possibly care what happens to Vandelhelm. So... speak with them. Ask lots of questions. Be interested. Having a member of the Jedi Order, the Alliance's protectors, give them the time of day will do wonders for when we hammer out a deal."

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm | Guildhall​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

Roman nodded, a sense of determination settling within him as he listened to Vice Chancellor Alicio's encouragement. This was more than just a negotiation--it was a chance to foster trust, to bridge the divide between the metalsmiths and the Galactic Alliance. Roman recognized the weary expressions on the faces of the artisans but also sensed the zeal that flickered among them. They held the key to rebuilding the orbital shipyards, a task vital for the Alliance, and he wasn't about to let their mistrust stall the efforts underway.

"Alright, let's see if we can stir things up a bit," he said quietly to himself, stepping away from Alicio's side and toward the gathering of metalsmiths.

He put on his best approachable smile, adjusting his robe as he approached the closest group, an assortment of brawny men and women, their hands stained with the remnants of their trade. Roman could see their skepticism etched deeply in their hardened expressions. He knew that they were well aware of their worth in this galaxy desperately seeking to rebuild and innovate.

"Hello there," he began, his voice calm and inviting. "I hope you don't mind me joining your conversation. I'm Padawan Roman Vossari, and I've been learning a lot about your craftsmanship today."

The men and women glanced at each other before one of the older smiths, a burly figure with an intricate tattoo curling around his forearm, grunted. "What's a Jedi want with us? You lot are all the same--promises and sweet phrases, but no follow-through."

Roman's smile didn't falter, though he noted the hostility hanging in the air. "I understand your skepticism. Sometimes, we are too wrapped up in our broader goals, and we forget the individual stories that make up the galaxy. But I assure you, I'm here to listen--to learn about your needs and concerns."

The smiths exchanged glances, distrust written all over their faces. The tension thickened, and Roman realized that their past interactions with the government were haunting their willingness to negotiate. He had to break through their barriers.

"Tell me, what would it take for your guild to work with us on the orbital shipyards? I've heard whispers of your skills in crafting durable ship components," he ventured boldly. "Surely you command respect and want respect for your work."

The tattooed smith crossed his arms, unimpressed. "Respect doesn't pay the bills, Jedi. You don't know what it's like for us, scrabbling for contracts that cover our costs. We want longer agreements that ensure we can keep our fires burning--profitably."

Roman nodded, genuinely considering the smith's words. "What you've built here is invaluable. But when it comes to the Alliance, we are still in the early stages of rebuilding here; however, with what you've mentioned, I believe I can take these concerns back to Vice Chancellor Alicio. Your skills could shape the future of the Alliance's fleet, and with that comes stability."

The room stiffened; the mention of Alicio caught their attention. "You think he'll listen to your little wish list?" another smith scoffed.

"I believe he will. I trust him to negotiate for what is reasonable," Roman replied confidently, his sincerity radiating as he stood taller. "But we need to start somewhere. If you were to outline what's reasonable in your eyes... Perhaps even entertaining the idea of working with us? I promise to make your voices heard."

The group began to murmur amongst themselves, and Roman felt a moment of hope glimmering through the initial resistance. He pressed on, drawing on all of his diplomacy training from his past, letting his genuine interest seep into the conversation. "Your craftsmanship speaks volumes, but it also deserves to be celebrated. The Alliance wants to ensure that your legacy--the work you do--remains a foundation for Vandelhelm's future."

Slowly, the ice was thawing. Questions began to flow from the smiths, their wariness melting away under the warmth of Roman's dedication. He engaged them in discussions about materials and duration of contracts, ensuring they felt valued and heard. With each exchange, he could see the transformation beginning--the once-proud artisans were now open to the possibility of collaboration.

One conversation turned into another as a small-scale negotiation initiated, the gathering bubbling with energy and enthusiasm. Roman felt invigorated, the Jedi ideals of service and humility reaffirming his purpose. He was not only a symbol of peace in this galaxy but also a bridge between experiences, facilitating understanding where barriers once stood.

Eventually, he excused himself to retrieve the Vice Chancellor, ready to connect the burgeoning relationship he had forged in that brief moment with the artisans to the broader mission at hand. Roman knew that if they could reestablish trust with the guild, it would lead to something meaningful--not just securing contracts for the shipyards, but weaving the futures of the Galactic Alliance and the people of Vandelhelm together.

"I don't know if I helped, but we've got them open to conversation at least." He whispered to Alicio.

 

[Alicio Organa]

"That's the spirit." Alicio's lip ticked just a little higher. Would any of the padawans he'd met in his time have jumped so readily into negotiations? No, he imagined, not one. Many people, Jedi included, were justifiably afraid of the Jedi Order involving themselves too much in politics. But they were supposed to be keepers of the peace. Learning to talk to people, soothing tensions, making friends, was a cornerstone of their duty.

Alicio went to stand by one of his aides, trading notes between their datapads. But passively, he kept Roman's conversation with the smiths in the corner of his perceptions. He was a silent observer as the redhead disarmed their fears, and cut through the Vandelhelmian's hesitance better than any lightsaber could hope to replicate. It was amazing what a bit of honesty could do.

Eventually satisfied that the padawan wouldn't be needing any assistance, the Vice Chancellor made for further into the hall, finding his own conversations with the metalsmiths as he helped set up for their meeting. His time was spent juggling sound issues, learning the names of the Guild members that helped him, and asking for their opinions on the tangled state their planet was knotted into. They were proud, unbroken... but looking for change.

When the Jedi came to retrieve him, Alicio was just standing up, glancing back without the least bit of surprise. "Trust me, you did wonderfully." Then, his expression became a bit sheepish. "I was listening in a little. Sorry for eavesdropping. But if you weren't a Jedi, I'd offer you a position on my staff."

"Invite them in. Time to make a deal."

The talks went about as smoothly as one could hope for.

Sitting down at a table together, Alicio laid out the situation as best he could, revealing his growing web of contracts, and outlining the specifics of how the guild fit into it. The metalsmiths were cautious, but thanks to Roman, not outright hostile. Demands were made, compromises were agreed upon, and percentages were quibbled over. Alicio was thankful he spent so much time in meetings about the planet's economy- the representatives from the guild seemed surprised he was so prepared to talk about the price of processing ore on Vandelhelm.

Alicio made a point to involve Padawan Vossari in the talks, asking his opinion, and prompting the delegation to clarify any specific language for him. The Vice Chancellor had a sneaking suspicion the smiths were overjoyed to have someone relatively clueless to explain things to.

The meeting ended with multiple metalsmiths signing in triplicate on his datapad, and a respectful handshake. Finally, the supply chain was complete, from the miners to the metalsmiths to the shipwrights, supplemented by Alliance suppliers only where necessary. Finally, work could resume, and Vandelhelm could rebuild.

"It may not look like much," Alicio said, handing Roman his sleek, black datapad as they walked out of the guildhall, and into a darkening city. They'd been in the talks longer than he'd realized. "But Vandelhelm's future is in your hands. Millions of people are going to get their lives back, in no small part thanks to you."

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm | Guildhall​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

In the aftermath of the negotiations, Roman couldn't help but feel a swell of pride at what he had accomplished. Despite being only a Padawan, he had played a crucial role in helping Vandelhelm's metalsmiths come to an agreement with the Vice Chancellor. Alicio's praise resonated deeply within him, a testament that he was on the right path in his training, even if he had only scratched the surface of true diplomacy.

"Thank you, Vice Chancellor," Roman replied, his cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment. "I didn't think I would have a chance to be involved in something like this. It was exhilarating!"

With a newfound confidence, Roman turned toward the remaining guild members. "If you all can spare a moment, I believe we can continue fine-tuning a few details," he stated, an eagerness in his voice. The metalsmiths nodded in agreement; they were ready for deeper collaboration.

As the dialogue reopened, Roman felt gratitude for the opportunity to engage, even if just to ask clarifying questions and share the weight of responsibility with the Vice Chancellor. Despite his limited capacity in the negotiations, he felt his presence mattered.

The meeting drew to a close with all parties standing up for a handshake, and Roman felt the unease that had flickered in and out throughout the discussions wash over him once more. He looked around, searching for signs of discontent. But the metalsmiths wore expressions of cautious optimism, and yet… a nagging doubt clung in the back of his mind. Had they truly resolved everything?

Alicio handed him the sleek black datapad and remarked on his contribution. Roman felt a warm swell in his heart, though the gravity of the situation weighed upon him. The datapad wasn't just symbolic; it contained contracts, signatures, and sensitive data crucial to the future of Vandelhelm.

They stepped out of the guildhall, the air heavy with anticipation of what the future held. As Roman exchanged pleasantries with Albion, one of the main representatives, he momentarily let his guard down. But just as the last words of kindness left his lips, his body tensed when he noticed movement nearby.

Outside, a quartet of armed thugs emerged from the shadows like a storm cloud sweeping over their victory. Their guns were drawn, menacing and determined. Roman's heart raced, his instincts screaming at him to protect Alicio and Albion. The sigil on the uniforms of the thugs sent a cold rush of dread through him.

"Hand over the datapad," one thug barked, the gun leveled at the Vice Chancellor's head. The command hung thick in the air, chased by the tension of impending violence. Roman felt the blood drain from his face as panic surged through him.

His fingers slipped around the datapad, and as fear coursed through him, he handed it over. The thugs took it without hesitation, their faces twisted in triumph. With rough efficiency, they grabbed Albion, dragging him closer as they pressed a pistol to his temple.

"No!" Roman shouted instinctively, stepping forward. But the thugs had already begun to retreat toward their waiting speeder, their focus solely on their prize..

The armed thugs made their escape, the speeder speeding off with Albion--now a hostage--in tow. Roman felt paralyzed. They needed Albion and that datapad; it held the signatures, the contracts that would rebuild Vandelhelm. As the vehicle vanished into the shadows of the darkening city, Roman's heart ached with dread and a sense of failure.

He turned to Alicio, a mix of fear and determination burning in his gaze. "They took it… we can't let them get away with this. We have to act."

 

[Alicio Organa]

"I've never heard a kid your age call a business negotiation 'exhilarating' before." Alicio chuckled a little, under his breath. "But yeah. Exhilarating."

After the talks, as the two of them walked out of the building, Alicio finally began to feel the pull of exhaustion on his limbs. It had been a long day, with a lot of thinking, and it's fair share of headaches. Now that it was finally over, and his plans for the next day began to overtake his thoughts... he felt truly tired. But seeing a flicker of pride behind Roman's eye, ignited some reflection of it in his.

He remembered that feeling, too. Something he'd helped build, would help build others up. That feeling was what propelled Alicio into politics in the first place.

So distracted was he, Alicio didn't notice the blaster pointed at his face until it was too late. He seemed confused for a moment, before his expression grew sharp with thought. He almost stopped Roman from handing over their hard work, then thought better of it. There were innocent people here. They could get hurt, if the Alliance representatives resisted.

Alicio was extremely still, as they stole a hostage, and sped off into the evening. Around them, people began to panic, calling for police that wouldn't arrive in time, talking in frantic tones, concerns and curses in equal measure.

"They took it… we can't let them get away with this. We have to act."

Alicio seemed to be staring into empty space, his eyes moving, tracking something invisible. Around him, the Force roiled, stirred by an unseen hand. Then, Alicio seemed to snap back into the present, nodding to Roman. "Get in my speeder." With purposeful steps, the senator walked to his vehicle, and flipped into the passenger seat. "You fly, I'll point you in the right direction."

The future flashed in his stormy eyes. Signatures could be replaced. Contracts could be redrafted. But they had to save Albion.

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm | Da Streets
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

Roman felt a surge of resolve as Alicio's command broke through the haze of panic that had enveloped him. The fear that had gripped him moments before was replaced by a fiery determination to act. He sprinted to his speeder, adrenaline coursing through his veins. The afternoon air felt electric, charged with urgency and the need to rescue Albion, who had been taken from them mere moments ago.

As he slid into the pilot's seat, his hands trembled slightly. He could feel the weight of responsibility heavy on him. Albion's life depended on their quick thinking and decisive actions. Roman shot a brief glance at Alicio, whose expression was steely and focused--his calm demeanor grounding Roman amidst the chaos around them.

Roman punched the accelerator, the speeder roaring to life and launching down the dimly lit streets. The city around them blurred into streaks of lights as he tightened his grip on the steering wheel, navigating the twists and turns with practiced precision. He could feel the adrenaline coursing through him, igniting a fierce will to chase after the thugs who had stolen their chance at a brighter future for Vandelhelm.

As they approached the industrial sector, the shadows grew deeper, the clanking of machinery and the distant hum of industry filling the air. Roman's mind raced with strategies and scenarios--what if they were too late? What if the thugs had already moved Albion to an even more secure location?

With every second that ticked away, the worry etched deeper into Roman's heart. How could he have let this happen? How could they allow a simple business negotiation to spiral into a hostage situation? The thought churned in his stomach, intertwined with the determination to make things right.

"Which way?" Roman asked, his voice steady despite the chaos still buzzing in his ears.

 

[Alicio Organa]

As they flew, Alicio seemed to be in a different world entirely.

Not unfocused, he was quite the opposite of that. He stared ahead, past the windshield of his speeder, into the Future, working his jaw in thought. Many of the fears Roman felt ran through his own head, too. When he spent too long thinking about them, he went a little further in the Future than he meant to. Blaster bolts, the clank of chains, heavy footsteps...

"Which way?"

Alicio blinked. Stay focused, Organa.

"Left. Go slowly." Alicio directed them into the guts of the city. It wasn't as complicated as Coruscant, but the cities on Vandelhelm were multi-tiered marvels, with ship docks hosting the shells of massive dreadnaughts, and factories ringing with the sounds of metal on metal. Alicio could appreciate the industriousness, but perhaps not today, as he navigated Roman through the winding twist of the ground-level streets, and wished he'd had the foresight to rent an airspeeder instead.

The sun had finally hidden itself behind the towers around when Alicio perked up. He pointed up at an old shipbuilding factory. Recent battle damage left it derelict, with cracked walls, and cold, dark windows. Lifeless, breathless smokestacks crowned the squat structure. "There. They brought Albion there."

They'd kept him alive. Alicio could guess why. Either he was extra insurance, or they needed him to sign something.

"Sentry on top." Alicio suddenly said. "Ride casual."

"Do you have any infiltration experience, Padawan Vossari?"

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

Roman glanced sideways at Alicio, whose mysterious eyes seemed to peer into another realm entirely. It was as if the Vice Chancellor had momentarily detached himself from reality, lost in thoughts only he could fathom.

Slowly turning his gaze, Roman fixed his eyes on the factory, its crumbling façade and darkened windows evoking a sense of foreboding. How did Alicio know they had brought Albion here? Roman couldn't fathom how someone could simply know that. It struck him as a blend of intuition and experience, an older man's wisdom interwoven with the Force.

With a quick shift, Roman pumped the brakes in their speeder, and both of them were now acutely aware of the sentry perched on the factory's rooftop, a sentinel against intruders. Alicio's command had been clear, "Ride casual." But Roman could feel the tension in the air, electric and thrumming.

He shook his head slightly, acknowledging the truth of his own inexperience. "No infiltration experience to speak of, Vice Chancellor," he admitted, the words slipping out with a hint of sheepishness. The thought of his lack of preparation stung, but Roman was determined not to let it show. "But there's no better way to learn than real hands-on experience, is there?"

The thought weighed heavy in his chest, and he hoped he wasn't speaking too optimistically. Self-doubt gnawed at him, and a fleeting thought of being left behind flickered in his mind, but he quickly quelled it. Roman wasn't about to be the one left in a speeder while things got dangerous inside.

 

[Alicio Organa]

"No infiltration experience to speak of, Vice Chancellor. But there's no better way to learn than real hands-on experience, is there?"

"No, there is not." Alicio flashed his own smile. If he was worried for their safety, he wasn't showing it in the slightest. "Stop the speeder once we turn the corner. You're getting a lesson today after all."

Once the two of them pulled off into an adjacent street, Alicio leapt out of the speeder, his cloak fanning as he landed. Waiting for Roman to follow, the Count-turned-King walked with quick steps back towards the abandoned drydock, taking a winding path through darkening back-alleys towards the building's rear. As they walked, Alicio spoke, his voice low. "I've done more... clandestine operations... than I care to admit. Working closely with the Jedi, I've gotten myself in more danger than most politicians see in their entire lives. So... I have faith we can get out of this alright." His Force sensitivity wasn't exactly a secret- he made no effort to hide his abilities- but publicly, he made a point not to talk about it. Moreover, barely anyone knew he'd jumped into battles, led clandestine operations, survived assassination attempts with a flashing lightsaber... He knew a thing or two about all this.

"First step- plan your escape." He found a smirk. Most people that left that part for last, left themself with no way out. "I don't want to have a protracted battle with whoever these people are. Not with an innocent man's life on the line. So our best option is to sneak in, get Albion, and get out as quickly as possible." He'd let Roman strategize their escape. For now, he moved on.

"Step two- we find a way in. Of course, we could cut a hole, but that makes noise, and takes time. It's better to find an unlocked door, an open window, or... an unconventional entrance." Alicio paused, looking up at the target building. It cut an imposing figure, for sure. Squat, tarnished metal, with heavy loading bays, and dormant smokestacks, large enough for a Padawan and a Senator to climb down. Alicio nodded up to them. "That's our way in."

They would have to climb the side of the building, and get past the sentry somehow, a single man on the roof with a heavy repeating blaster. Whether they tried to sneak past him, or take him out stealthily... Well, he'd leave that to the Padawan, too.

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

Roman's mind raced, already mapping out their escape route like Alicio had suggested. The loading bays, at the far end of the building, seemed the most logical exit point. The guards inside were undoubtedly focused on securing their prisoner, Albion, and not anticipating any incoming shipments, offering a potential window of opportunity. A quick, unassuming exit. Perhaps they could even manage to acquire a keycard from inside to bypass any potential checkpoints and make their escape smoother.

His gaze shifted down the street, a flicker of an idea sparking in his mind. A bulky power conduit, a little farther down the street, was positioned perfectly to cause a distraction near the sentry. Roman quickly aligned the speeder they had arrived in with the conduit, a calculated plan forming in his mind. With a surge of the Force, he jolted the speeder's throttle, sending it hurtling down the street.

The resulting crash was deafening. The speeder slammed into the conduit, erupting in a bright, fiery explosion. The sudden chaos worked perfectly as intended. The sentry on the roof, and any other guards in the surrounding area, were instantly drawn to the commotion. Roman turned to Alicio, a look of determination on his face. "Now." he declared, his voice low and urgent.

Their ascent began swiftly. Roman and Alicio scaled the side of the building with surprising agility, the urgency of their mission fueling their movements. They struggled to shimmy down the soot-covered smokestack, the descent a slower and methodical one. The interior of the building greeted them with a cloud of dust and grime. Alicio's dark attire hid the effects of the smokestack descent, but Roman's clothes, unfortunately, bore a more visible testament to their entry.

They moved through the facility with careful, silent steps, pausing at every corner to scan for any sign of movement. A sense of anticipation hung in the air, each creak and groan of the old building a potential warning. Eventually, they stumbled upon a control room, the central hub with visual ofthe entire facility. Surprisingly, it was deserted, the screens displaying a comprehensive view of the complex.

Roman and Alicio stepped inside, their eyes scanning the monitors. It was then they saw him, Albion, being loaded onto a small shuttle, poised for departure. A glimmer of hope ignited within Roman. "Perhaps," a hint of excitement in his voice, "this could be our new exit strategy. We could simply fly out of here."

His words were barely out of his mouth when the sound of a keypad being punched echoed from the hallway outside. A guard, returning to his post, was attempting to gain access to the room. Roman's instincts kicked in. He reacted swiftly, pressing himself against the wall beside the door, his hand instinctively finding a hidden grip on his lightsaber, ready to disarm the intruder if he dared to enter.

 

[Alicio Organa]

That was certainly one way to make an entrance.

Alicio's lip pulled into a tiny smile as the two GA representatives scaled the side of the building, the senator taking the action with far more grace than many of his colleagues likely could. Making a distraction certainly had it's downsides, but they were trying to move quickly. A little confusion could be just what they needed. Now they just had to capitalize, before their surprise wore off.

It wasn't any time at all before both of them were sliding down the tall chimneys, and into the building. Alicio walked with an assured grace, walking past corners as if he knew there wasn't someone behind them, or pausing just long enough at an edge as if he knew there was.

Finally, the pair made it to a control center, where flashing cameras gave them a layout of the entire building. It was lucky that nobody had been here to see their infiltration- they must have been busy with the commotion outside, and their apparent hurry to leave town. Roman seemed overjoyed at the fact they were taking a ship out. Alicio just squinted in thought. "That's a good idea. If they don't see us coming, I bet we can take the cockpit and leave before they know what hit them. I'm more concerned about where..."

Alicio fell silent, sensing an arrival in the Future. A guard, coming to check the cams. Mirroring Roman, the nobleman disappeared into the shadows on the opposite side, gathering the Force around him once more. He held out a hand to the Padawan. Wait, he seemed to motion, before extending his consciousness.

He didn't like using this particular skill. But in a situation like this, where someone's life was on the line, he felt comfortable making an exception.

The guard walked in, his eyes focused ahead, not even thinking to look to his right or left. He glanced at the screens, pointedly avoiding the one where soot from the smokestacks still floated disturbed in the air. And he just so happened to forget his keycard at the table as he left, remembering he'd forgotten something important on the other side of the compound. It looked as if they'd gotten extremely lucky.

But if Roman was paying attention, he'd see the focus in Alicio's eyes, the subtle movement of his lips, as he implanted thoughts in the man's subconscious. His mental defenses were scattered with fatigue and distraction. It was easy for Alicio to weasel his way in, and adjust things.

After a moment of silence, to make sure his mind trick held, Alicio stepped out from his hiding spot, grabbing the card. "We need to go quickly if we want to hijack the ship. They're leaving soon."

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

Roman stood frozen for a moment, disbelief washing over him as he watched the guard slip into the room, oblivious to their presence.

He glanced sideways just in time to see Alicio's expression shift from tension to concentration. The guard's posture relaxed, his brow furrowing in confusion, and then he simply turned away, leaving behind the keycard like an abandoned toy.

"What kind of government official is this?" Roman thought, still slightly stunned.

But there was no time to ponder the question, Alicio glided from his hiding place, snatching the forgotten keycard.

Though the urgency in the Vice Chancellor's voice snapped Roman back to reality, he couldn't shake a growing sense of curiosity with the man he was supposed to be guarding. "Right behind you." he said, following closely as they darted out of the room and into the narrowed hallways of the facility. Roman kept his gaze fixed on Alicio, trying to discern all he could from the man's fluid movements, how he navigated the spaces with a relative ease.

As they turned corner after corner, Roman found himself in an unexpected mix of emotions. The thrill of danger, the burden of the mission, and a deep-seated admiration for the Vice Chancellor he had only known from a distance until now. What had once seemed a typical security detail felt increasingly like something straight out of a holofilm.

The pair finally arrived at the hangar where the shuttle Albion was housed. Roman's heart raced at the sight of the small vessel, its hull gleaming dimly under the overhead lights. But it wasn't just the ship that caught Roman's attention. Two guards stood watch outside, eyes scanning the perimeter, armed and ready to react.

Roman turned to Alicio, his voice laced with urgency. "Do you have any tricks up your sleeve?" It was more than a question. It was a challenge, an invitation to reveal more of the man beneath the political veneer. The Vice Chancellor had maneuvered through the facility with an ease that astonished Roman, surely he had more plans in mind than simple stealth.

 

[Alicio Organa]

"Do you have any tricks up your sleeve?"

Alicio had been asking himself the same question.

He'd been staring at the two guards, already debating worming his way into their minds, but decided against it. The chance he could fail with these people, who were on guard and vigilant due to the pair's louder entrance, was too high for his liking. Not to mention the two extra guards he felt arriving in half a minute. So, the only other option...

"I do." Alicio nodded to a long-abandoned assembly line, complete with empty metal crates, free-hanging chains, decommissioned servo-arms, and molds to create starship components. "Use that to get closer. I'll get everyone's attention, lure some of the people on the ship out. If you sneak past them, and overwhelm the pilots, you can take control of the vessel."

"Then, you just have to swoop by me, I jump on, and we fly like hell to the capital building."

Before Roman could protest too strongly, Alicio finally produced what he'd been hiding in his cloak this entire time: a slender, elegant saber hilt.

"Questions?"

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

Roman couldn't help but follow Alicio's gaze, as he took in the forgotten assembly line. It stood silent and still, save for the gentle sway of rusted metal. He felt a mixture of nervousness and excitement bubbling within him, the plan was risky. Out of the corner of his vision, he caught the glint of the saber hilt as Alicio revealed it. Roman felt a flicker of admiration. Who was the Vice Chancellor really?

Alicio's confidence ignited something in Roman. The plan might not be flawless, but it was a good shot. Roman nodded resolutely, his mind racing with the complexities ahead. He swirled around the side of the assembly line, his instincts guiding him as he moved like a shadow among the crates.

He found a handhold among the free-hanging chains, feeling the grit of the metal through his fingertips. With a force-assisted leap, he swung himself upwards, landing softly on the hull of the shuttle. He held his breath, the world around him descending into a hush as he concentrated on the rhythmic pulse of his heartbeat, the distant voices of the guards still echoing in the ether.

Crouching low, Roman peered over the edge of the craft, ensuring the coast was clear. He was in position. He turned just enough to see Alicio through the maze of crates, the determined gleam in his eye a clear signal that the moment was upon them. Roman offered a slight nod, his heart thundering with adrenaline and anticipation.

It was time for Alicio to take charge. Roman could feel the weight of their plan, the air pulsating with possibilities. Holding his breath, he prepared to act once Alicio drew attention.

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio sensed a hint of nervousness in the padawan, and let shine an easy, if small, smile. To show that he was entirely confident, in control. He wasn't, not really. So much could go wrong here. But It would be better to be driven by self-confidence, than made slow with hesitance.

Roman took his leave, and Alicio crept ever closer to the two guards, heaving distantly the clanking of chains as Padawan Vossari got into position. Then, judging the time to be right, the Vice Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance dashed into full view of the criminals, hands extending, the Force rushing past them.

Before they could shout out in alarm, an invisible energy gripped their limbs. One of them had their foot wrenched from under them, making them drop to a knee. The other twisted sideways, yelping in pain and grasping his shoulder. The nobleman closed, leaping into the air, and landed a devastating kick on the standing man's sternum. He went down quick, letting Alicio land gently, and crack the kneeling one across the face with his other foot. They both went down clean.

Then, calmly, Alicio knelt, and released a bit of healing energy into both. Not enough to wake them, but soothing their pains enough to ensure no lasting damage.

He stood just as three more tough individuals peeked out of them ship to inspect the noise, and the two extra guards turned the corner down a separate hallway. Alicio rolled his shoulders, Introspect flashing blue and black in his hand.

"...Surprise inspection?"

A firestorm of red bolts were their only response. Alicio danced through it, his blade growling in low tones, hoping that he could buy Roman enough time.

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm
Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

With the guards distracted, Roman seized the moment. He hopped down from his precarious perch atop the shuttle and slipped through the door, his senses heightened. Inside, he spotted Albion, bound and uncomfortable in the seating area. Swiftly, he moved to free him, mindful of the urgency. "We're going to get out of here." he whispered, hastily working to untie Albion's restraints.

Once Albion was free, Roman ducked into the cockpit like a shadow, sliding into the pilot's seat. Finding a singular pilot, he swiftly wrapped his arm around the pilot's neck, applying just enough pressure to send him into a gentle slumber. He dragged the unconscious man from the seat and motioned to Albion. "Help me here!"

While Albion quickly fastened the pilot's limbs, Roman adjusted the ship's controls, eager to lift the craft into the air. He kept a watchful eye on the hangar's entrance, out the cockpit window he noticed the Vice Chancellor fending off a barrage of blaster fire. The way Alicio moved, graceful and unyielding, impressed him.

The familiarity of the controls was somewhat reassuring, his training with Master Caltin Vanagor had prepared him for this moment in unexpected ways. Roman quickly assessed the console, fingers dancing over buttons and levers, revving up the engines with precision borne from repeated practice.

"Come on, come on." Roman muttered under his breath, urging the ship to respond more swiftly. The engines roared as he guided it upward, the ship groaning with the strain of lifting off the hangar floor. He maneuvered the controls carefully, angling the ship so that the hatch door remained open, ready for Alicio to make his jump.

Alicio was a whirlwind of motion, deflecting blaster fire effortlessly as he bore down on the remaining guards. Roman's heart pounded in sync with the blaster shots ringing out in the hangar.

"Just a little closer!" Roman whispered frantically, his heart in his throat.

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio moved like an experienced Jedi Knight. Which was odd, considering he'd never been a Jedi.

Or perhaps it wasn't that odd, considering he was married to a member of the Jedi Council, was close friends with the Grandmaster of the Order, and had worked with both for years to hone his skills.

He was the eye in the center of a storm of blue and black, wide flashes turning away red bolts, splashing them against the industrial-grade walls. What he couldn't block, he dodged, sidestepping and tilting his body with supernatural clairvoyance. In short order, his cloak was pocked with holes from close misses, but Alicio didn't even have the time to drop it, too focused was he on keeping himself alive.

Just a little longer. Just... a little...

Suddenly, the shuttle sprang from the ground. The criminals firing at Alicio paused in confusion, wheeling around to see their off-world escape leaving without them. It gave Alicio enough time to infuse his limbs with the Force, and dash towards them.

One turned around, bringing his blaster up in time to score a lucky hit on Alicio's cheek, but he didn't pay it any mind. The Vice Chancellor was a blur of movement, as he struck the man on the body, leapt onto his shoulders, and used him as a springboard to perfectly spin into the craft's open hatch.

Alicio landed hard on his shoulder, sucking in through his teeth, his lightsaber skittering from his grasp. "I'm in! Get us to the capital building!"

Then, he checked the item in his hands, that he'd managed to take from the gangster as he jumped on him. He smirked through the pain. It was a datapad.

His datapad.

- Roman Vossari -

 

[Roman Vossari]

Vandelhelm​

Lightsaber: X | Armor: X | Training: X | Casual: X
Tags: Alicio Organa

​

Roman's heart raced as he caught sight of Alicio tumbling aboard the shuttle. With a mix of admiration and urgency, Roman slammed his foot on the throttle, pushing the shuttle into overdrive. The craft lurched forward, the roar of its engines drowning out the chaos behind.

"Hold on tight!" Roman called back, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, buoyed by the adrenaline coursing through his veins. He swung the shuttle around in the hangar with a reckless abandon, twisting and turning to avoid the incoming blaster fire that lit up the space. Each deft maneuver made him feel alive, electrified by the danger and the thrill of flying like he had never experienced in the training sims. Navigating through the deadly barrage, Roman broke free of the hangar at last, the shuttle bursting into open space.

It didn't take long before they were near the capital building. "We're almost there!" he yelled over the hum of the engines, his focus narrowed on the descent. Roman guided the shuttle toward the landing platform. They hit the platform with a jarring thud, the craft rattling as he engaged the landing gear and carefully brought it to a halt.

Without wasting a moment, he unbuckled himself and moved swiftly to the hull, his concern for Alicio overshadowing the ringing in his ears from the rough landing. As he stepped into the cabin, his eyes settled on the Vice Chancellor.

"Sir! Are you okay?" he asked, taking the moment to assess both the man and the datapad clutched in his hands. So much for needing to protect him, he mused, seeing the man's unyielding spirit.