Do Robots Dream of Electric Sheep?

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


If Naamah had been a wet hen she would have felt sulky about Mirien not trusting her. However, she was not, just a Chaotic Evil psychopath. Besides, the feeling was completely mutual. She needed Mirien to get to Maddy and kill the queen. Once they were off from Atrisia all bets were off. The toys Madeline had hidden in her laboratory would be...very useful. Oh, the fun she could have with them! Without missing a beat she headed towards the back corner both of the bar, which contained the usual sort of rif-raff that such establishments frequented.


Twi'lek dancers, scantily clad as could be expected, were on performance, acrobatically gyrating on poles or gracing the laps of Reeki gangsters, who could be clearly identified by their tattoos. Most of the criminal scum in the bar were humans, though some Rodians and Trandoshans could be seen and Naamah was certain that one of the Reeki gang bosses was in fact a Clawdite. As certain placards outside of the bar had shown, anti-alien legislations had been tightened on Atrisia but Euclid Avenue was a very lawless area and in any case close to the Alien Quarter. Way back when the Gulag Virus broke out the alien population of Atrisia had been given a district 'of their own', which happened to be in a dilapidated sector of Jar'kai that was so run-down the humans would never live there. It had not been racism at all.


So she disentangled herself from the advances a Togruta courtesan was making on her - the girl seemed on spice and judging by bruises that were badly obscured by makeup she had not been treated well - and was soon in the booth that Mirien had indicated. Incidentally outside of the bar there was a rather unflattering placard hanging from the wall of a building. It read 'DEATH TO ARCH-TRAITOR MIRIEN VALDIER. MASS MURDERER AND WITCH' and portrayed the former Inquisitor as an evil witch, listing up a long series of crimes she had supposedly committed. These included leading a secret cult of force-users that under the guise of protecting Atrisia planned to enslave the common people, corrupting Emperor Akio so that he would make an alliance with Fringe and the Confederacy, then selling vital intelligence to both enemy nations so that they could invade Atrisia, collaborating with the 'near-Sith harlot' Siobhan Kerrigan so that she could appear the heroine during the battle, detonating an anti-matter bomb in Jar'kai instigating the assassination of Akio after he found out about her evil plans and in the process killing hundreds of Atrisian citizens and soldiers. Oh, and these days various basic consumer goods were in short supply for common Atrisian families. That was her fault as well.


With featherlight steps Naamah entered the booth, looking over her shoulder to make sure she had not been followed. She had been giving off serious don't mess with me vibes but then it was best to be cautious. Very discreetly she took ahold of a small, i-phone like device she had hidden in her pocket and activated it. It would sweep the room for bugs and hidden listening devices. Of course such a check was not perfect, but it should give them a certain measure of security.


"We're clear," she said laconically, keeping her voice low and discreetly putting the tiny device away.

 

[Madeline Kahoshi]

Madeline bowed her head ever so slightly as Moira left the room. Soon enough men from various organizations filed into the small library to give their reports on the current situation with security. She quickly filled them in on her current plans regarding Mirien Valdier and the current threats to the government and herself.

It was a simple meeting in truth, as it should have been. Soon enough the Empress was ushered out, and down the hallway into a private room, to help prepare her for the events of the day. The opening of the festival after all, required a certain regalness from the queenly figure. And even as much as she hated the fuss over her looks or how her hair had to be done a certain way, it was only her adherence to the ancient traditions that kept her seated in the salon chair while a woman took to sweeping her hair up into an elegant look for the young scientist.

Looking into the mirror, seeing herself done out, with makeup, and jewels, and even the hair all felt so wrong to her. No longer could she be certain of who the woman in the mirror was, for it was not Madeline Kahoshi any longer. Empress Kahoshi, certainly. Even Madeline did not like that person. Every part of her just wished to return to her days in the lab and escape the fuss of the public spotlight that shined so brightly upon her.

Are you who you want to be? A sigh followed that thought. No, but there is no going back, now is there? You did volunteer after all. A mistake, and one I cannot remedy now. A most unfortunate mistake.

"Are you alright M'lady?" The women doing her hair asked quietly.

Madeline managed to fake a smile. "I'm fine, thank you. Just have a lot on my mind."

"I'm sure you do your highness. It cannot be easy what you do for us."

"No, no it's not." She said softly as she returned to her thoughts.

[member="Moira Skaldi"]

 

[Mirien Valdier]

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

Mirien sighed and dropped the shadows around her as she pulled up a scarf she carried around her face to still remain hidden somewhat. At least it made her feel a little safer in this situation, even though in truth it probably did her little good. "What I'd give to have the skill set you were born with, to shapeshift." She said quietly.

Keeping her voice low she leaned closer to Naamah. "We must exercise extreme caution from this point forward. Either of us get caught, everything goes to hell and neither of us are likely to get off the world alive." Well Naamah had a better chance than she, and really Mirien was only speaking what was already known.

Slowly she pulled a datapad from her pocket. "Two events come to mind where the queen will be vulnerable." She tapped the screen and handed it over to Naamah, it showing the schedule of events for the next few days for the Cherry Blossum Festival. "The opening of the festival and the ball this evening would be the best bets. They both offer plenty of opportunities to get close to her. It should be a simple matter.Thoughts?" She paused, "The other matter is the how."

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


"I like you looking just the way you do," Naamah said sweetly, though she had understood what Mirien actually meant. Maybe the former Inquisitor needed to learn the White Current It was the new 'in' thing these days. Much like almost every Sith Lord now suddenly knew mechu-deru, which had once been a rare skill.

She was quiet as Mirien moved over to her and spoke, then bent down to examine the datapad before looking up. "If possible we could hit her at the opening of the festival with Shadow rifles. If we get a good vantage point out of sight of the surveillance drones. Would be the easiest way." Almost too easy, as they both knew, but there was no prize without heavy risks. Personally Naamah would find it fun to slip some poison into her drink while pretending to be a waitress during the ball, but there were too many variables.

 

[Moira Skaldi]

[member="Madeline Kahoshi"]


The hour was coming closer and the reception area of the palace was being filled with dignitaries, some more relevant than others. Aristocrats of various ranks and titles, Atrisian generals and secret police chiefs, the few foreign emissaries who still visited Atrisia since the Fondor debacle, along with religious leaders from the few Atrisian folk religions that were still permitted. Likewise there were a few party bosses from the pompously named New Order Party of the Galactic Empire.


Oh, and there was a group of schoolgirls dressed in shiny uniforms and with badges that had small images of Madeline pinned to their chests. Undoubtedly they would start singing patriotic hymns and songs once the Empress emerged and present her with flowers, for they were carrying plenty of those. All in all it was like an ocean of shiny uniforms, robes, dresses and polished boots. For her part Moira had spent the last few minutes making polite conversation with pompous aristos and industrialists. It appeared to that there was a rumour she had the ear of the Empress and so naturally the underlings wanted to ingratiate themselves with her. While presumably trying to futilely plot of how they could eradicate her influence at the Atrisian Court.


In other words, it was almost cute and terribly dull. Silly humans. Even the waiters were dressed to the nines in shiny uniforms that seemed to glitter in the bright light. Naturally every Atrisian general wore a uniform bedecked with medals and ribbons. And so she blended in and socialised, appeared suitably appreciative of the attention whilst maintaining an attitude of haughtiness and sipping a glass of champagne. One day...none of this would be necessary and insignificant vermin such as these would be put in their place and serve their true purpose: Become fuel for the machines of a new age.


Time seemed to fly and finally a splendidly dressed lackey appeared, opening the large doors. "Ladies and gentlemen, Her Majesty Empress Kahoshi of the Atrisian Empire!" Immediately all of the self-important grandees snapped to attention as if they had been struck by a whip. Before the lady entered, four of the Empress' Own would march in and take up position, sentinels clad from head to toe in crimson phrik armour that obscured their features and made them appear like automatons.


"Ten thousand years for the Empress of Atrisia!" The cry rose up like a chorus and echoed across the halls.

 

[Madeline Kahoshi]

Madeline sighed as the woman finished her hair, touched up her makeup and then helped her find the appropriate jewels for the event. For the Empress had to look every bit the part for her Empire. Stepping out of the chair, two other women fussed over the gown she'd be wearing, quickly helping her from the business suit she'd been in for the earlier meetings.

Something about being a royal required the need for lady's maids to help her in and out of her clothing. An old tradition and one she particularly hated. It seemed frivolous, and useless when she was perfectly capable of dressing herself. But it had it's advantages for it gave her time to think, and not worry an ounce about her looks.

The dress they slipped her in, elegant, a gentle cream color to compliment her complexion as well as the tone of the event. With it finally zipped, she gave a last look to the mirror, still loathing why she felt like two different people trapped in one body. None of this was her.

Dismissing the women, she stepped outside her room where four of the Empress's own greeted and surrounded the scientist to escort her to the main ballroom where she was to greet the upper class, as well as a few important people of the public. Of course a few groups of school children had to be invited. One had to look like they actually cared about the people, and school children always seemed to be a good way to go. Kiss a few babies, and they just loved you, or so politicians seemed to believe.

If I just close my eyes? For one moment, things could feel different. I wish it would feel again like it was when he was Emperor, and I ... I was just a girl in a lab. I wish very much it was five years ago.... Just me and my work, and no one knew my name.... Random thoughts as they moved her slowly through the halls. Finally the group came to a grand set of doors, where they joined another four of the Empress's Own. A motion was made and they all stopped around her.

One had to reach out, and lightly touch her hand as she was lost in thought, nearly in another world. It was a rather common thing these days, Madeline seeming more and more distracted, more distant. The poor guards, used to her eccentric behaviors. "Empress, you must wait a moment, here. We have to take up our positions inside, to confirm your safety."

"Right, of course. Thank you." She said quietly.

Her name was announced, and she nervously straightened her gown out, before folding her hands neatly together at her waist. And with half the guards she waited patiently as the other four fanned out into the ballroom. Some talk on their coms was spoken, before they motioned for her to join them. With a deep breath, she stepped slowly into the room, smiling brightly as any ruler would when greeting their people. To her though, it all felt like one giant facade, a mask to hide what she was, to be what the nation needed her to be.

Slowly she was guided towards a throne that had been set out for her, but first a podium was set out for her. For she could not escape the duties of a speech. A moment of hesitation she took before stepping forward to the microphone. "People of the Atrisian Empire, dignitaries, emissaries, lords and ladies, I welcome you personally to the eight thousand two hundred and twenty first Festival of the Cherry Blossoms. It is an ancient tradition, that has been observed in one form or another since the beginning of our planet. It marks the changing of the seasons, and a new year ushered in. A symbol as well as a tangible sign of our prosperity." She took in a breath and smiled sweetly, "It is with great pleasure, that I welcome us into a new year, that I am certain will be full of change, as well as growth for our small nation. Please join me in the celebrations that will follow this grand day. Welcome the new year with excitement, and take joy in the beauty that this great season brings us." She bowed her head ever so slightly, nearly done with her small speech.

"And now we shall hear from the children of the Kahoshi Art and Music Academy as they have prepared a special concert for us all to enjoy." With that she smiled brightly, and ushered in the children as well as a group of young musicians to a stage nearby. The podium was pulled away as the Empress's Own urged her into her throne, and took up positions around her. It was now that all those who had come to visit the palace and seek favor with the Empress would have their chance to speak with her while they all enjoyed the lovely music that the children had worked so diligently on for them all.

[member="Moira Skaldi"]

 

[Moira Skaldi]

[member="Madeline Kahoshi"]


And so the grand ceremony began. As a matter of fact it was both a ceremony and a rather petty game about social status. The Empress, in her unending grace, was making herself available to her subjects to hear their grievances and petitions. Well, she was obviously only making herself available for those subjects who mattered since as Empress she only had a limited amount of time. It would not do to invite insignificant peons or otherwise, oh the horror, people might think this was a democracy. Or some sort of bizarre monarchy where the queen was elected by the peons and could only serve a 'two-year term in office' on the throne.


So while the schoolgirls and musicians entertained everyone with lovely music, one by one the mandarins, party bosses, clerics and generals came to the Empress, made obeisance and beseeched her to listen to their pleas after making effusive declarations of loyalty. Moira stayed on the sidelines and watched, making her own observations. Undoubtedly the amount of time the Empress spent with each petition would be seen as an indication of her favour and their respective status at Court, though whether the subjective perception was accurate was another question entirely.


Everyone wanted to partake in a share of the Imperial charisma. Now contrary to its depiction in certain video games charisma is not an inherent quality that magically allows you to sway others. The Empress did not somehow have fifteen charisma points that allowed her to convince people to do what she wanted even when their viewpoints were wholly contrary to hers through use of the 'persuade' option on the dialogue wheel. Or the 'intimidation' one if she wanted to acquire 'Renegade Points'.


Presumably the corresponding 'Renegade Interrupt' would consist of ordering 'off with their heads' and commanding one of the Empress' Own to use the impressive force pike they wielded to cleave an offending petitioner in half. Or order for them to be taken away for processing since that should make them less inclined to annoy Her Majesty with long-winded speechifying and give their meaningless lives something close to a productive purpose. Anyhow, back to charisma, it was not an inherent quality but a subjective one. Thus it is written somewhere important and scholarly, perhaps by Max Weber. To put it plainly the Empress received the adoration of millions of Atrisians. They had not just been cowed into submission through fear and terror, but many clung to her out of hope and love because after so many upheavals she was the last focal point of stability in their lives. A new generation of Atrisians was growing up in the belief that she was the mother of the nation, venerated by a propaganda apparatus that almost deified her, for it was under her watch that the witches who threatened all had been destroyed. Ergo she possessed charisma, even if she looked upon almost all beings with a disdain so similar to that of her machine friend and wanted to be free of her duties. This only enhanced the charisma possessed ex officio by being the one upon the Imperial throne. Ergo all the lackeys wanted to bask in the charismatic authority she possessed and go home in the belief that their own status had been enhanced.


And so poor Madeline would probably be thoroughly bored to death. One wealthy industrialist wanted to use alien convicts who had been put under lock and key during a recent purge for construction projects. Some of them were for socially useful things like creating factories, which would naturally be operated by his own corporation, others for things like building a golden statue of Madeline in his home town. An ISB General wanted to impress her with the number of dissidents he had arrested while stressing that there were even more heretics out there, which meant that he needed more power and a bigger budget. The Mayor of Guanghzhou had come to inform her that the Town Council had overwhelmning voted to rename their city into Kahoshigrad and humbly asking for permission. Oh, and there was a Count who after making the most effusive declaration of loyalty and undying adoration for her was being terribly subtle about the fact that it would be the greatest honour for him to be her husband.


So it went on and on, while the children entertained everyone with lovely music. Moira had never liked children much, though she was considering the possibility of giving them the chance to do something socially useful with their lives by processing them. No one would expect innocent schoolgirls to be murderous death machines!

 

[Mirien Valdier]

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

"Well, I appreciate that, but changing my appearance would be rather useful." It was something she'd not considered looking into, the white current really. It would have been an amazing thing, but she believed it beyond her limits. Truly Mirien just wasn't as confident in her force skills as she should have been. One couldn't blame her, much, considering she remembered nothing of her training, and only recently had actually undertaken training with Siobhan.

She gave a small nod, shadow rifles would be the simplest method. With luck, they might even get away clean with Madeline dead upon the floor, with such ease. But the reality was far different, and Mirien didn't believe in luck. "I think it's our best chance. Everything else just has far too many variables and things we can't predict. Not to mention its not like we have the same connections here that we used to, making life much more difficult for us. Then there is the whole part where my face is plasters upon posters around town, that is one complication I did not need today."

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


Clearly Siobhan would have to help Mirien get a confidence boost. Of course the Countess did have her own ways to be...persuasive. This one still thinks Mirien with the power of the White Current would be awesome, though their personal favourite is alchemist Mirien. See, nothing says all alchemists have to be Sith.


"The posters don't do you justice. They caught your poorly," Naamah said, though her tone made it unclear whether she was trolling or hitting on her. Knowing the Clawdite probably both. That said she had liked the poster that blamed Mirien for the schoolchildren having no milk. Miri the milk-snatcher! "Sniping it is then. There's bound to be surveillance drones and gunships in the sky, but they'll have a massive crowd to monitor. If there's snipers on the roof we take them out and take their armour."

 

[Mirien Valdier]

Alchemist Mirien is this writer's favorite too!

Mirien chuckled softly, "It was a rather poor image I fear. Though I think the idea was to make me look like a pathetic crazed force user that'd kill anything on sight, in that they succeeded."

A sigh followed naturally, the whole situation stressing her out far too much. "Well, we did bring along a few toys with us. Did you bring the luggage to the hotel that we brought?" She said with a smile, "I left a few goodies in there." Well at least, Mirien wasn't one to come unprepared to such events. "Getting me from here to there, is going to be a bit tricky. Draining really, to conceal me from here all the way to there. But I suppose I'll get over that. We have to do what we have to get through."

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]

This one long considered it a terribly narrow-minded point of view that only Sith can be alchemists. Why, Hermes Trimegistus, Albertus Magnus and Robert Bacon would flip a table if they heard about it!


"I should give the Ministry of Propaganda a call and kindly tell them I'm the crazy one," Naamah said sardonically. Presumably her idea of giving them a housecall would involve carving up bodies.

"Which toys? I brought two categories," she winked at the former Grand Inquisitor. If she got grumpy about it Naamah did not care much since grumpy Mirien was hot. "I have the stuff at the hotel. Getting back and smuggling it out should be easy enough. Where do we meet up? Place is going to be crawling with goons and surveillance drones."

 

[Mirien Valdier]

"Well it would be the truth. After all someone needs to set them straight." She said with a smirk. Knowing exactly what such a house-call would entail and did not care in the least. This place, this planet, ruined her life and her family.

Mirien blushed a little, "The more lethal kind of toys, not the pleasurable variety." Not that she minded the pleasurable kind, but this was a mission and that came first today. "We could meet up in the tunnels beneath the palace. They are scarcely guarded and used these days. Madeline doesn't know much about them. It would be an easy way to sneak in and find a good position to take the shot."

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


"Come on, you like the crazy...just a little bit," Naamah purred sweetly as she leaned forward. But, as Mirien had pointed out, this was a mission and so there was serious business at hand. Namely the assassination of an Empress who had kicked them out and killed all their friends. Also the commitment of homicide in general, not to mention subsequently looting the ruler's secret laboratory. Naamah was looking forward to that part, though not as much as the sight of Madeline's dress being splattered with blood.


The only regrettable thing was that this would have to be a surgical operation that required precision, timing and focus. One slip and they would be doomed. This time there would be no escape. Ergo she would have to be killed quickly and precisely, rather than making her suffer in agony for hours on end while she...cut out all the bits that stuck out, then moved deeper and deeper inside with her razor...


Right, focus was what was needed. Even though Mirien was terriby distracting from Naamah's perspective. "Sounds good. I'll sneak back into the hotel." Theoretically every move a citizen made was monitored by state security. In practice the Atrisian mandarins were as corrupt as bureaucrats in every tin pot dictatorship. A credit chit could open many doors, until they decided to sell you out because they got a better offer. Naamah leaned forward to plant a loving kiss upon Mirien's lips, threading her hand through the woman's hair as she pulled her closer to deepen it. Then she arose, licking her lips. Mirien's lips did taste so sweet after all! "I'll see you later, darlin'."


Unfortunately, things were not that simple. For all of a sudden downstairs the door to the bar opened and four armed fellows marched in, carrying themselves with the swagger that was so common among thugs. Of course these were heavily armed thugs in uniform and thus authorised by the Imperial State to indulge in their acts while cloaking it in the righteous pursuit of duty. Each of them wore body armour that was modelled on that of stormtroopers, though of less refined quality obviously, and the crimson arm bands they wore marked them as members of the Imperial Revolutionary Guards. Each of the patriotic volunteers carried a heavy blaster rifle and from the window one could see that more guardsmen had assembled along with an APC. The roar of motors was heard as drones flew through the air.


Their apparent commander, a burly, muscular man with scars on his face imperiously marched towards the barkeep. The runes emblazoned upon his armour marked him as someone who had been at Ground Zero when the Imperial Tower exploded and suffered injuries, which explained the cybernetic enhancements he had and his rank.


"No one leaves the building without our permission. This is an inspection by the orders of the Imperial Throne. You...a good human servicing alien rabble outside of the Quarter, you should be ashamed of yourself. Filth corrupting a good human neighbourhood," he pointed an accusing finger at the barkeeper. The finger, like his entire right hand, was made of metal. It looked like someone had chopped the hand off an old battle droid and glued it to the stump of his arm. "Get ID from everyone and frisk them for hidden weapons, lads. Anyone who doesn't have a valid permit will be sent to the Citadel and taught respect for the law!" he barked.

 

[Mirien Valdier]

Mirien chuckled softly, "Maybe a little, but only a little." She wasn't sure if she actually liked it, or was just stroking Naamah's ego a little bit today. Either way, at least the last words she spoke would not be all doom and gloom. If they were to be the last moments she lived in the galaxy, she wanted to make sure it was well spent. There wasn't time to be moody and broody here. Not now. Sweetly she returned the woman's kiss, allowing herself enjoy it for just a moment before pulling away.

And it seemed as if the Universe would have an answer for things going just a little too smoothly. Nothing could ever be simple. Never in Mirien's life had they been such, and the Universe wasn't about to change it's mindset today, on her part. "Looks like work's starting early today..." She grumbled as the Imperial Revolutionary Guards burst into the bar.

A grim smirk came to her lips as she wrapped the shadows around her. I can't let them see me, She thought to Naamah, I'll work from the shadows, take them one by one as I can.... Do the same, and we both shall get out of here reasonably well off. Neither of them had ID after all, at least none that would get them through this mess. With luck, it will be a distraction for those at the palace, to investigate whoever tore up this bar.... Or so Mirien hoped. The more guards and military away from the palace, the better. The trick was just to escape unnoticed, or relatively so.

The former Grand Inquisitor wasted no time as she got to her feet, and scooted out of the booth still wrapped in the shadows. Reaching up, simultaneously every lightbulb was crushed in the place, dropping the bar into a chaotic darkness in which Mirien could work from without fear of being seen. Pulling upon the tangled web of the force, Mirien clutched the commander firmly in the force, using a quick twist to snap his neck cleanly before letting his still warm body drop to the floor with a heavy thud. She was anything but efficient when it came to her work. After all, first and foremost she was a trained assassin.

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


"I have it on good authority that sometimes you like me more than a little," Naamah purred sweetly. She eagerly deepened the kiss and returned it stroke for stroke, lapping affection upon Mirien's lips and tongue before she pulled away with evident reluctance. Unfortunately for them, it seemed the universe was about to rudely intrude upon their private moment.


That was enough to put Naamah into a bad mood. No one interrupted her quality time with 'her' Mirien! Even if she sort of felt the urge to murder her...but no one else got to do that. As if her mood was not bad enough, the intruders happened to be members of the Imperial Revolutionary Guards. Suddenly all playfulness was gone from Naamah's features. Rather her expression turned cold and hard, for a moment her eyes seemed to flash a sulfuric yellow before they resumed the normal colour of the brunette she was currently wearing as a shape.


Suffice to say she had...bad memories when it came to them.


They'll all die, she those words through telepathy just as Mirien wrapped the shadows around herself. Unlike her, Naamah could not turn herself invisible...not yet. But she was good at stealth and had a working relationship with darkness. Thus she was quickly on her feet, her steps feather-light and barely making a sound as she snuck out of the booth, crouching and keeping herself low so that she would be less of a visible target.


The Revolutionary Guards were performing their usual inspection. Which consisted of shaking down the mostly alien patrons of the bar and taking any credits and valuables they might be carrying. A few patrons had been cuffed and were being led out, amidst a guardsman beating them here and there with a cane.


"If only we'd cleared out scum like you sooner, the Omegan witches wouldn't have snuck and blown up Jar'kai. Scum like you has never been loyal to the Empire," one barked out, taking evident delight in making an Ithorian shake badly by shocking him with an electro-prod.


Then all hell broke loose as every single light bulb was crushed and the room was dropped into complete darkness. The commander was the first to die as Mirien called upon the Force to crush his neck.


"What the...witches, kill them all!" one guardsman cried out. Not because he had any actual knowledge of witches being there but because that was the sort of people you tended to blame bad things on in Atrisia. He did not get any further because suddenly Naamah manifested from right behind him and the militiaman found his movement stopped and indeed his breathing stopped as suddenly powerful arms locked around his throat - and then with a snap brought about by the alien pulling upon the tangled web of the Force, his neck was broken.


Revolutionary Guards were firing blindly across the bar, with the darkness being lit up by red-hot laser bolts lancing through the air. Patrons were brutally cut down as blaster bolts seared and fried limbs, screams filled the hall as the wounded lay dying and others tried to flee.



However, there were those amongst the guests who were made of sterner stuff, particularly the criminals you found so often in such locations, and so they quickly retrieved arms from the dead and fired, creating a state of pure chaos. As the guardsman in her grip gave up the ghost Naamah grabbed his arm and with telekinesis squeezed the trigger of his blaster rifle, firing out a salvoe that hit a guardsman advancing upon her dead in the chest, then gave the neck-snapped thug a good hard kick that sent him flying into the fray.


Stray blaster bolts being fired blindly through the room came her way and she ducked, rolling across the ground as the wall behind were was peppered and badly scorched with shots. The thugs knew attackers were here but neither of their faces had been seen. The Revolutionary Guards were overglorified thugs who received a government pay cheque, night vision equipment was not part of their inventory unless they managed to pilfer supplies meant for the stormtroopers. Naamah did not need high-tech to see in the dark, for she had the Force. Another militiaman, busy blasting away with a scatter gun suddenly gasped for breath and dropped his gun as a sensation of intense pain overtook him when Naamah stretched out to grip his heart with an invisible hand manifested through the Force. For a moment the heart simply stopped beating...then she crushed it.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


The eyes of the Imperial State were ever watching, though they were not as all-seeing as its masters, both organic and mechanical, would like to have it. It was in the office that she had commandeered for her purposes that Ms. Scarlett received word of a disturbance. A vast array of holographic projectors and computer screens had been set up and almost continuously bombarded her with information, both auditory and visual, which she processed, absorbed and analysed at rapid speed.


Information supplied by CCTVs, surveillance drones that hovered in the sky above the streets of Jar'kai, checkpoints of stormtroopers and Imperial Revolutionary Guards, supplied by informants at police stations. All of it eventually ended up here right before her cold eyes that were as blue as the ocean but held no life.


One particular source of information was from a surveillance drone that had been making its rounds in the Euclid Avenue, close to the basement bar Quantum's Quarks, a sector only a stone's throw away from the Alien Quarter. "Disturbance reported. Contingent of Revolutionary Guards sighted."



The Revolutionary Guards had not been ordered to go there. A detachment of regular Imperial soldiers had been assigned to patrol the sector, but it seemed the chief of the militiamen had decided on his own initiative. The surveillance drone hovered in on a clearly frightened patron running up the stairs out of the bar and screaming something about witches. Witches everywhere! Callisto tilted her head to the side as she absorbed the information just as she suddenly jolted and received a transmission, saying that a certain Lady Himura who was supposed to attend the celebration had not been found yet.


Callisto's reaction came swiftly and was fairly definite. "Find out at which place she is registered and send a team. And get me a Gunship." Never let humans do the job of a machine.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


Far away from Atrisia, which now had turned into a totalitarian theme park that was essentially Space North Korea with Madeline Kahoshi as the 'Motherly Leader', Siobhan was trying to concentrate on perhaps the most arduous task that could be imagined: Paperwork. Try as she might, she could not bludgeon through bureaucracy, though to be fair she could bludgeon pretty hard!


However, even she could not escape the large number of datapads, flimsi reports and datacards that had somehow ended up being stacked on her desk. One would think that being Vice President of a corporation would be less demanding than Exarch and second in command of an empire, but unfortunately Firemane was tier four now. Admittedly that was good for a number of reasons, one of them being that they had far more capital, resources and prestige, but it also meant that managing the company was far more less complex than when it had been small and easily governable. They might actually soon have a proper Board of Control that was a board in fact rather than just in name.


"The latest statistics from the Bespin cortosis mining outpost. Output is up, further resources are requested for expansion. Likewise a report on the bandit suppression campaign on Tabaqui and in an an hour you have a meeting with a Mr. Nkrumah of the Abomey Council concerning Firemane's planned fortifications," her ever-loyal, but sadly very prim and proper secretary, Maerys Medea, helpfully informed her. She was so kind to lay another pair of reports on her desk, as if it was not full enough.


Unfortunately for Siobhan, Maerys, while a gorgeous Eldorai of the hot librarian type, complete with nerdy glasses, was not the sort to provide...special services to her boss. At least she had shown no inclination so far. However, as boring as Siobhan found paperwork, the true reason for her distraction was another one. In truth her thoughts almost inevitably drifted to Mirien Valdier. She was scheduled meeet Mirien's deputy today to receive the standard intelligence briefing because the brunette was not there.


She was on Atrisia. On a mission to kill Madeline Kahoshi and avenge the deaths of her fellow Inquisitors. How did Siobhan know this? It was through the flood of memories she had received when the former Grand Inquisitor healed her mind. It had created a bond that had become more apparent with each passing day. However, this could not do much to avail the feeling of betrayal Siobhan felt, for she knew that the woman had intended to keep her excursion secret from her. Siobhan understood the desire for vengeance all too well...Madeline deserved to die and Siobhan would not shed any tears over the queen's tears.


But...if only a single thing went wrong, it could backfire on Firemane. Siobhan was not particularly concerned about the Atrisians striking back. Their terribly poor showing at the thoroughly ridiculous invasion of Fondor had not impressed her much, but theoretically they were still Fringe. Perhaps more importantly, Mirien had not told her. Loyalty was everything to Siobhan. In her mind it felt like a betrayal.


Why don't you cast her out then?
She saved my mind.
And you're sure she won't go behind your back again?
She can't. I know what she feels. Everything.
Sounds almost...romantic. And what about that psycho blonde? Mini Kaelin wannabe. You wanna be friends with her as well?
If I see her, I'll kill her.
And if Mirien takes her side? After all, she's one of her twisted, little family.
She knows what I'll do to her if that happens.
Of course...she knows Butcher Kerrigan better than anyone...


"A penny for your thoughts, Countess?" Maerys' words took her out of her musings and so Siobhan was forced to focus on the present once again - and on the tedium of bureaucracy, for there was a corporation she helped run and that she would do.


"Not worth that much, I'm afraid, Maerys. Uh, who am I meeting again, dear?" Siobhan asked, a bit embarrassed about the fact that she had clearly lost the plot.


"Mr. Nkrumah, Senior Councillor of Abomey. He is well-connected to important native interests we want on our side. While Firemane holds a semicolonial sway over Dahomey, it is important that it..."


"Does not look that way. Indirect rule, I know. I'll be diplomatic," Siobhan said with a sigh, pinching the bridge of her nose as she focused on reading the paper before her. You better come back alive, Mirien.

 

[Mirien Valdier]

Pure chaos reigned supreme as blaster bolts sprung through the darkness and lives were stolen from the patrons of bar. Under any other circumstances it might have been a sad situation, but there was no time for our intrepid adventurers to ponder upon any of that. And it's not like either really would have mourned the loss of the bar's regulars. The kind of scum that Mirien regularly kept an eye on back in the day.

Mirien ducked behind a table for cover as the shots leapt through the bar. Reaching out in the force it only took her a moment to find one of the guards and reaching out she wasted no time as she clutched his chest and crushed it with a sickening sound of bones breaking as the poor creature suffered for a moment before she let him drop to the floor, dead.

As far as she could tell there were only a few more inside, outside, was concerning and at the back of her mind she did wonder how exactly they were going to deal with that. If they could manage to draw most inside and kill them in the darkness, then all would be well and she could keep her face hidden from sight and no one would know the brunette witch had returned from exile to exact her revenge upon the Empress.

Somehow across all the distance of time and space, Mirien felt an anxiety that was not her own, though familiar. Siobhan? She wondered to herself. Even through the battle, it was undeniable. Only she could be what she felt now. A part of her bothered, almost flustered by the worry she was causing her. It was not her intention. Never. Somehow, someway, she knew in her heart she had to make it home. Make it home and put all of this behind her. She'd never do this to Siobhan again.

With that thought she reached out and clutched at another of the men, slamming him across the room into the far wall before she snapped his neck with a simple wave of her fingers and let him too, drop to the floor, uncaring manner. He was just one more person between herself and Madeline. One more thing in the way of her and getting back home.

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Darth Libertas]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


Unsurprisingly the mayhem and chaos was by now attracting a good deal of attention. It was quite possible that the sounds of battle were drowning the hail of sirens and the roar of engines out, but there was no escaping the fact that the cavalry was arriving in form of a horde of speeders carrying Revolutionary Guards and even regular troopers. Then again, this might actually work to the advantage of our ladies because security forces in totalitarian states have a habit of waging turf wars over who 'gets the glory'. Yes, petty disputes like that happen constantly. You see, contrary to popular belief, totalitarianism is not efficient! The ability to get thousands of people to dress in silly uniforms and goose-step across town does not constitute efficiency.


However, this did not change the fact that they needed to get away - and soon. The Revolutionary Guards stationed outside were breaking down the basement door and lobbing in grenades. Whilst the militiamen were not that well-trained or equipped, they apparently understood that blindly death charging was not that smart. Of course, Mirien Valdier was a telekinesis master, which made chucking things at her less than efficient, especially since they would not have access to anti-force user grenades.


Naamah cut a fleeing trooper down by lobbing a chair at him and then firing a blaster she had grabbed from a dead Trandoshan before rolling into cover as blaster bolts whizzed above her head and shot past her. As she felt the ripples resonate through the Force she reached out with her powers to grip incoming grenades and violently toss them back to from where they had come. Explosions ensued, along with screams of the wounded that were very pleasing to her ears. Some of the fleeing patrons, those who had not been gunned down by the troopers, had been torn to pieces, though she cared not. However, more soldiers could be heard arriving.


Brace yourself, It was time to leave. Naamah sought cover behind a partially blasted table as she heard them coming. Taking a deep breath she filled her lungs with all the air she could gather inside her as fast as she could and then roared. Very, very loudly. It was a deafening scream, an outburst of sheer rage and hatred amplified by her prowess in the dark side, that tore across the room like a powerful shockwave, sending bodies flying along with chairs and tables if they were torn apart outright. Soldiers who had come to close to the basement entrance would find themselves gripped by the wave and thrown through the air. Probably not strong enough to kill them given the distance, but enough to cause hurt. As it happened, a hole was torn into a portion of the ceiling...

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Mirien Valdier"]


In the meantime Callisto had commandeered a Gunship and was speeding towards the bar, guided by what the surveillance drones had picked up. To be more precise, the flying craft in question was a Hell Hawk Airspeeder, a multirole aircraft originally created for the Imperial Force Recon to serve in both transport and fire support roles. The craft itself was very fast and bristling with firepower, heavy repeating blasters, blaster cannons and even rockets. Designed by Imperial Shipworks at the directive of former Grand Admiral Cyrus Tregessar, it still served the Empire well, even though its creator had long left Atrisia and had been last heard of serving the One Sith.


A squad of soldiers had boarded the craft along with her, though she paid them no mind as she stood in the cockpit, clad in ultrachrome armour and with a bolter at her side. As far as the stormtroopers knew, she was working with Imperial Intelligence and they knew better than to question that. The past Purges had taught them to function like good cogs in a machine. Her impassive eyes flared for a moment as the latest image picked up by the aforementioned drone was fed directly into her mind, for they were linked now.


Per the latest image there must have been a sort of explosion inside the basement bar, for the drone had picked up on a hole being torn into the roof. Perhaps the result of conventional explosives, maybe the Imperial Revolutionary Guards had chucked detonators into the basement or due to the use of the Force. After all, 'traitor' Mirien Valdier was known to be a formidable telekinesis master. According the files she had been supplied with, much of her command of the Force was instinctual due to having lost her memory many years ago. However, imminent danger was bound to override such issues and she had spent a good deal of time on Kaeshana, where she may have received training.


If Callisto felt any anxiety at the prospect of possibly engaging in combat with at least one master level force-user - whether Mirien was acting alone or had a companion was unknown, though the latter seemed more likely and otherwise making a stop at a bar would seem ridiculous, especially for someone that professional - it did not show upon her placid, impassive features. The truth was she did not feel any fear because she was simply not capable of it. It was not part of her programming. Truth be told, it had been burnt out of her in those awful days in the Contruum underground as a child soldier, when she was still human. When she still felt idealism, anger...hope.


Idealistic outrage against a corrupt system that existed to squeeze all life out of the common people. "If you want a vision of the future, imagine a boot stamping on a human face. Forever," an interrogator of the Contruum People's Guard had told her whilst torturing her. She had eventually taken revenge...it had been very slow...and messy.


Cold eyes swept across the New Atrisia the Kahoshi Dynasty had created. Even as terrorists sought to undermine it, the celebrations were in full swing. A loud chorus of voices rose to the heavens as schoolgirls and schoolboys marched across the streets in perfect formation and chanted, singing as loudly as their voices allowed. Callisto was certain that many of these children had by now lost a parent or a sibling to the secret police. Perhaps they had even denounced some in the belief it was the right thing to do. Then there were columns of soldiers goose-stepping, clad in spotless uniforms, accompanied by patriotic music. Processions of Atrisian workers, civil servants and religious leaders, all clad in uniforms, as if the entire city had been turned into cogs.


It was supposed to be pure order and civilisation personified. A nation united in one vision and one purpose. Before a massive golden statue of Madeline Kahoshi, workers, schoolchildren and soldiers bowed, with selected individuals laying down wreath. It was completely and utterly disgusting. Calllisto experienced an urge she knew to be irrational, for Atrisia was an ally of Archangel. Well, eventually this planet would have to be purged of organic life as well, but until then it was a partner and Moira, her Creator, actually liked Madeline. But nonetheless Callisto found herself experiencing the desire to see the entire rotten edifice collapse, to behold the statues of the Empress torn down and the flames of chaos to engulf Jar'kai, as its leaders were pulled out of their palaces and executed, all the illusions being stripped from the minds of the people who, as organics were wont to do, were so easily deceived. The revolution would be beautiful...and end up devouring its own children, like all revolutions do.


This farce should be burnt down. In other words, Callisto's thoughts were illogical because they required Mirien Valdier to succeed in her goal. This was against her programming. Still, Callisto felt this illogical urge. It would not stop her from pursuing the rogue Inquisitor with the aim of terminating her.


The roar of engines would be heard echoing across the streets and alleys, coming closer and closer to the bar. Further reinforcements had been called in, so Mirien and Naamah had only a very limited amount of time to escape before they were swarmed, including light assault walkers. Callisto registered with a measure of annoyance that the Revolutionary Guards were bringing in troops as well. She knew enough about the inner workings of totalitarian systems to predict a high likelihood of a turf war getting in the way of mucking things up. Annoying organics.


Her words, she first she had spoken since boarding the craft, were devoid of feeling when she addressed the pilot, who controlled the rocket pods. "Once we are in range, bomb the building housing the bar. Instruct our escort Gunships to perform a strafing run. Target the roof. Ground troops are to form a cordon. AT-STs prepare to fire at my command."
"Yes...ma'am. But respectfully, we may still have men inside there. The Revolutionary Guards just sent in another squad," the gunner said carefully.
Callisto tilted her head to the side and the gunner found herself staring into eyes as blue as the lake of Theed, blue orbs in a pictureperfect face, yet devoid of life. "Insignificant. Casualties do not matter. They are distraction."
"Yes...ma'am. Suffer not the witch to live!" Perhaps the pilot was imagining himself gaining rank and coin by playing a role in extinguishing the arch-traitor Valdier, who, as every Atrisian schoolchild knew, had been a doubleagent who sold out Atrisia to the Sith.
Regardless, there was no conflict written upon Callisto's features as she acknowledged the pilot's words with nay a reaction other than a curt nod. The gunner was manning the blaster cannons while stormtroopers aboard were taking charge of the door-mounted repeating blasters, ready to rain down fiery death in a hailstorm of laserfire. She had her orders and she would carry them out with machine efficiency. The Gunship had reached the area by now and like a hawk swooping down upon its prey, descended down from its lofty heights as the building holding the basement bar came into view and its weapons were primed, moving very fast.
"Order has been passed to Razor Two and Three. Arming ordinance, preparing to fire...Ready."
"Fire..."


Would our ladies escape the firestorm? Would Gunships and walkers get chucked across the street? Would Mirien suddenly fly like a bird? Did Atrisian tea contain a secret ingredient tha turned you into an obedient drone? The truth is out there!