Private Not a Day Goes By | Invite

[Antares Demir]

THE CITY - IRVULIX V

The City, with its ancient high walls, had cracked like a walnut under the fist of Antares Demir's revolutionary force, Rising.

It had not always been his, but he had more or less taken over by acclamation following his bold actions in the wake of his sister's death and The City's callous response. Lightning strikes against The City's holdings and patrols and a strategic, methodical march across the continent had put him here, in the tallest structure he had ever been in by far. The capital building of Irvulix V towered over the other buildings in The City, but it was very different from what he expected. The subtle vertigo from the height was nothing to the surprise of what he had found here. The City was all ancient duracrete and reinforced transparisteel and utilitarian railings. Not quite the luxury and ease that he had expected to find here.

So, even though his body ached and he bled from more than one wound, Antares had climbed to the top of the central tower, to the very top.

The room was all windows and computers, although the computers seemed to be in varying states of disrepair. What looked like radios stood silent. What is this place? he wondered idly as he turned. A door led to a catwalk that ringed the windowed tower, and Ares let himself out. The catwalk groaned at his step, but held. He looped the tower once, taking in The City as the sun sank below the distant horizon. There was surprisingly little damage to The City itself. The main gate had been the site of the most chaos. Rising had sent in a dozen operatives under Josha and Tiny, incognito, to infiltrate The City's garrison through the filthy river on a commandeered skiff. Either The City had been bluffing about its forces, or it had sent the bulk of its forces out against Ares' marauding force.

Or, he amended as he watched a small trail of smoke rising from the direction of the gate, The City had pulled their forces back to their reinforced estates to the north. His spies had reported broad, flat duracrete platforms surrounded by brightly lit buildings, stockpiles of food and weapons and luxury goods. The City living fat and happy off the backs of everyone else. There had been reports even of flying machines swooping down onto those flat duracrete platforms, their bellies disgorging crates and satchels of goodies. Impossible, he had thought at first, but his own village's mining chief had muttered something about not being so hasty. Evasive.

He thought back to those reports now. Crates of goods from somewhere in the heavens. Propping up those City bastards.

Not for long, he thought darkly.

Entire villages had joined Antares' march on The City. Villages whose generations had been ground into the dirt, forced to work the mines or the land or the filthy waters and send away their gains to The City to profit from, and who each had suffered tragedies like Antares' own village. Siblings and spouses, parents and children dead because of The City's greed.

Antares had been so eager to reach The City, so ready to crush the bastards. But The City was nothing. Almost empty, crumbling, in as bad a state of repair as Antares' own village. Neither the glittering metropolis nor the shining fortress he had been led to believe, The City was home for a few dozen functionaries and a handful of droids who processed the shipments of goods received by the villages and send out the shipments of rations and the occasional tool or vehicle to help with their work. They were as much slaves as any of the villagers, but they were kept in closer check by the presence of The City's soldiers, armed and armored, part policemen, part jailors.

That was what gave Ares pause. Jailors. The City seemed more designed to keep people in than to keep people out. Every entrance was controlled and guarded -- on the inside of the walls, not the outside. The buildings at ground level had been a warren of small corridors, easily controlled; he could tell because the scars of where the small rooms had been joined were still evident. Now the rooms had been repurposed, reworked into commissaries and taverns and marketplaces and whatever else. Antares didn't turn when he heard footsteps coming up the stairs behind him. Somehow he knew it was Tiny.

"Got the gate repaired and all the guards have been handled," Tiny said, coming to lean over the railing beside him.

"And the -- I don't even know what to call them," Ares replied, gesturing vaguely to the city below. "The bureaucrats and their families."

"We've got them in the brig for now," Tiny said. "Until we can determine their, uh, loyalties."

Antares frowned, his eyes fixed on the column of smoke rising from the gate. For a long time he didn't say anything; the sun sank lower, and the light went from yellow to orange, then a strange violet. Their village didn't get this color because of the Blight. At dusk, their sky went to an inky almost-black. "All right," Ares said. "Good work, Tiny."

"Come down," Tiny said, clapping his friend on the shoulder, giving him a tug. "We've found a stockpile of booze and food and clean water. We're going to get absolutely pissed."

Antares resisted, straightening but making no move toward the door. "Go on without me," he said.

"They want you," Tiny said simply. "You're the one who did this. They want you."

"None of this would have been possible without you. And Josha and Jaska. And all the others," Antares said. "You go."

Tiny shook his golden head, chuckled, then grabbed Ares by the scruff of his neck. "You're not going to get out of it that easily. Come on."

With one last searching gaze toward the north, Ares thought he could see lights in the distance. The estates of The City, the true powers behind this efficient regime. Soon, he pledged. And then he could rest. He turned, put an arm around Tiny's shoulders. "All right. Hey, listen," he said once they were back in the room at the top of the tower. "Not to put a damper on the whole thing, but -- just... if something happens to me -- " Tiny made a noise as if to interject, but Ares steamrolled over him. " -- just listen. I want to be buried with Andy and Atlas. Somewhere my parents will be able to stop by without too much hassle. OK? Promise."

Tiny swallowed audibly. "Promise," he replied. "What's brought this on?"

Antares glanced back towards the door, then they began down the stairs. "Just a feeling I have today," he answered, evasive as his mining chief had been. "Like someone walking over my grave." They descended to join the festivities, to enjoy The City's food and drink as the spoils of their victory, to celebrate living another day, but neither Tiny nor Ares could quite shake the feeling of feet upon their grave.

Perseus Kotar | Andromeda Demir​

 

[Perseus Kotar]

----- LNDG SEQ ----- << INIT >>
1. APRCH PH: Sublight spd aprch to LNDG ZN - Nav sys online
2. ATM EN: Shld active vs ht & frict - Ctrl surf for stblty
3. DSCNT PH: Thrstrs & AG engaged - LNDG gr prepd
4. LNDG ZN CNFRM: Scan for suitblty - Bkup zn ID'd
5. LNDG GR DEP: Gr ext for surf cntct - LNDG thrstrs prm'd
6. FINL APRCH: Precise dscnt - Grav comp active
7. SURF SCN: Detect obs & hzrds - Hzd avd engaged
8. TD: Gentle lndg - Gr abs impact, thrstrs off
9. PST-LNDG PRCS: Env sys adapt - Crew prep for tks
----- SCSFL LNDG ----- << WLCM >>​

Two Weeks Ago...

A violent decrescendo echoed in Perseus' ears as his vessel powered down. A sigh of relief escaped his lips as he disconnected his seat's harness. A skilled pilot he wasn't and so he'd let his automated landing program run - unfortunately the terrain was much rockier than it had been designed for which had caused him some stress as the vessel came nearly down in the center of a canyon. Shaking off the rough landing however, he quickly tucked a blaster pistol into his belt and grabbed his pack. He'd been smart enough to set down outside the visual range of his destination but what lay ahead was a fairly long hike. It was standard protocol, observe from afar before exposing oneself to danger. It irked him that he couldn't just fly in but Zevran's instructions had been clear. He'd ignored them before and learned the hard way that it would be much better if he didn't. Of course, no scars were ever left but the pain retained nonetheless. Disembarking from the small shuttlecraft, Perseus put his thoughts aside and trekked onward in the direction of the city. He'd need to locate a place to stay first, then once that was accomplished he'd be able to begin his task in earnest.

-

Today...

So much had happened over the last few days, the last week even. The fighting had been bloody for some, less so for others, but they had all experienced the rush of battle and the painful moments of waiting. Brief flashes of intense action followed by an uneasy period of silence, such was the way of war. Perseus himself had been on the delivering end of some of the violence. It had been necessary. Things on the ground had changed rapidly after he'd arrived. The apprentice had needed to deviate from the original plan as a matter of survival, things on the ground had deteriorated since Zevran had last checked in - apparently. Tensions had been high already as Perseus had arrived on world and only a day or two later things had begun to kick off. Stuck between a crumbling upper society, if one could call it that, and a restless peasant class Perseus had to make a decision. Stick with the uppers and hope they could wrest control back from the rebelling faction or join the rebelling faction and survive. Turns out he bet on the winning podracer.

They'd captured several of the uppers and their families during the "Taking back" as some were calling it, locked them in cells once used for holding their own people. Perseus was an off-worlder and not known to many, two less now that he'd eliminated them. Zevran had been careful never to reveal his own face to the Uppers, instead dealing with them via proxy and Perseus had no such protection. By the time he'd arrived things were already too developed to make contact but they knew his face and if those Uppers were to talk... there was a very real chance he'd be in trouble. He'd managed to track down the two known to him, two he knew without a doubt would be able to ID him - unfortunately there was one left. It had taken Perseus too long to figure out where his final target was before they'd won, now tucked away in a heavily guarded area there would be little to no chance in getting to him. This trip was going to be longer than he hoped.

For now, Perseus took part in the celebrations. Raising a glass to his fallen "Comrades" and in celebration with these rebellious peasants. It was hard not to get swept up in the emotion of it all, people finally breaking their chains and becoming free. Or, so they thought. They were oblivious, most of them, to the Force. Beyond their comprehension even. Not all though, for that was why he was here in the first place, to secure an agreement with the Uppers in the first place, provide a market for those force sensitives they were wasting by execution. Zevran had some other purpose for them unknown to the apprentice - that knowledge was irrelevant. For now, he stood quietly off to the side of a large fire pit, scheming about how to deal with that final wrinkle.

Antares Demir | Andromeda Demir ​

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

Four Days Ago...

The delivery of mail -- even electronic mail -- was a matter of some excitement to Andromeda Demir. So when she powered up her datapad to check her morning schedule, she was pleased to see a small badge indicating an unread message in her personal inbox. Personal -- that meant not Temple business. She sat up straighter and, pushing glossy black hair behind her ears, she touched the key and opened the inbox. A broad grin broke across her face when she saw the sender. Endaln Baig had sent her mail.

She could hear it in his voice as she read it to herself, as if he'd dictated it, brogue thick.

Right Lass, it read. It's your old pal Cap. Baig. I'm sure you're very busy terrorizing the Jedi Temple with that droid you fixed up and much too busy to see an old man like me. I'll be in the neighborhood of Coruscant at the weekend and thought I'd take you for a cuppa or maybe a bite to eat if you've got the time. Let me know and I can drop by with a speeder. Best regards etc. from your friend Baig.

It was all Andy could do not to be distracted the rest of the week. Her lessons were engaging, true, but her chores were less so, especially when she had a visit from Baig to look forward to. The man had smuggled her off Irvulix V and had been very nice about it, actually. His kindness and generosity had smoothed her path from backwater mine village girl to -- well, backwater mine village girl in a great big galaxy.

She had tapped back an enthusiastic acceptance and set about to wait.

Today...

It was what passed for sunny on Coruscant.

Andy sat at a small table with Baig at a café, outdoors. Baig sat opposite her, and the droid that Andy had rebuilt was folded up on the chair on her right. Their drinks had been delivered and they had agreed to share a flatbread. Baig leaned back in his chair, elbows resting on the metal armrests, fingertips brushing at his mustache as he grinned over at her. "Weel, let me get a look at ye, lass," he said. "Bein' with the Jeedee certainly agrees w'ye. Put on some weight, I'd wager -- och, don't look at me like that, ye needed it, all skin and bones ye were."

"There's so much food at the Temple," Andy said, folding her arms over her midsection, as if to check for a bulge there. No, she was still pretty trim. "And you don't have to forage for it or anything. And it's actually nice, not like -- well. You know." There was something in his eyes, some mixture of pity and relief. Andy cleared her throat, took a sip of her drink. "Have you -- been back?" she asked quietly.

"Back to Irvulix? Oh, nae, nae. Heard some things, though -- ol' friend o'mine took a run of -- uh -- some'n-or-other there, week or two back. Said there was some trouble."

"Trouble?" Andy echoed, swirling the straw in her drink absent-mindedly. "What -- what kind of trouble?"

"Just those in charge -- oh, I don't suppose it'll hurt to tell ye, not like ye can ever go back, reet?" A swig of his drink, a sigh. "Them that lives in that city there? Hands full of a rebellion, I hear. Oh, trouble indeed."

"Those poor people," Andy murmured, setting down her drink.

Baig raised his eyebrows. "Surprised to hear ye have sympathy for that lot," he said. "After what they did to ye." Andy looked quizzical, and Baig chuckled. "Och, I buried the lead, didn't I. The rebels? They're winnin'. At least so far. More'n any of us who know Irvulix V have seen so far. Pretty surprising."

She frowned a moment, thoughtful. "I'd heard rumors but -- well, then I had to go." Andy paused a moment. "Captain Baig?"

"Aye, lass?"

Andy looked across the table at him, her face frank. "Is there a way to find out who else got off of Irvulix V? You said I wasn't the first. My brother -- Atlas -- we saw his body, but maybe... maybe it wasn't? Maybe he's out here somewhere?"

Baig took a deep breath and reached over, covering her hand with his. "Oh, Andromeda."

Antares Demir | Perseus Kotar​

 

[Antares Demir]

THE CITY - IRVULIX V

The celebration went into the night, then into the morning. People filtered out, alone or in pairs or small groups. Plenty stayed, gorging themselves on the wine and food The City had hoarded for themselves. Ares had to admit that the food was delicious. Meat and vegetables -- food his village only ever had on the most special of occasions, and then gritty, underdeveloped, and nearly tasteless -- was tinned and plentiful here. Not to mention tasty. Even as he had mowed through his second tin of the stuff, the fury had grown. Hundreds of cans of foodstuffs, plentiful clean drinking water, and kegs on kegs of good drink that The City had sitting here. Just because.

While the hundreds of citizens of Irvulix V went hungry.

Oh, how he wanted to kill more of them. He wanted to kill all of them.

Dark eyes closed and he steadied himself, took a breath. The anger didn't dissipate.

At any rate, the group was shrinking, and Antares felt his spirits darkening. The conversation dwindled, but it wasn't uncomfortable; the little crew, the nucleus of his revolution, he had known for most of his life. They didn't need to speak all the time. Soon it was just Tiny and Jaska and Sorelien grouped around him, and he could tell from the frequency of Jaska's brushing Tiny's golden hair from his forehead that she was feeling some kind of way. Antares stretched and stood. "Go to bed, kids," he said, nudging Tiny with the toe of his boot. "I believe Jaska has been giving you signals for about two hours now."

"What about my signals?" asked Sorelien, her auburn hair almost red in the firelight.

Antares felt an uncharacteristic blush and brushed his stubble with his thumb. "Got some work to do first," he said, stretching again. His vertebrae popped in a very satisfying way. He leaned over, brushed his thumb over Sorelien's lips, then kissed her lightly. "Go. I'll come when I'm finished." There was a hesitant smile in her eyes, but she nodded and stood, linking arms with Jaska. The look that passed between Tiny and Antares was an assurance that the former would look out for her, and gratitude on the part of the latter. The two men exchanged silent nods.

He didn't have work, really, but he wasn't ready to go to bed. He was bone tired and was as likely to fall asleep on top of Sorelien as to make love to her, but either one was a level of intimacy that he found frightening all of a sudden, just today, just this evening. He had caught her signals, but something about being here in The City, being so close to their goal made him shrink from her. The likelihood -- not to say certainty -- that he would die made him recoil from the thought of spending one more night with Sorelien, this woman that he supposed he had to love in his way.

He had never thought about a commitment like that, not since Andromeda died. The thoughts were unconnected, ostensibly, but not. Andromeda had demonstrated the fragility of life and the emotional wreckage that death left in its wake. He had barely survived lowering his little sister into the ground. He didn't think Sorielen dying would cause quite the same thing, but he didn't want to be the reason someone else felt that, either. Could he inflict that kind of pain and grief on someone? Bad enough his death would impact his parents and Tiny. If Sorielen saw herself as just a girl to tumble, perhaps she wouldn't take it so hard.

Then again, he thought with a rueful chuckle, maybe she only saw him as a boy to tumble, and he was overthinking it all.

There was a boy -- no, a man -- standing near the firepit, looking as deep in thought as Antares felt. He snagged a pair of fresh cans and walked over. "Another drink?" he asked, offering Perseus Kotar one. "I don't know you yet," Antares said apologetically. "I'm Ares Demir. Where are you from? What's got your brow so wrinkled with thought?"

Perseus Kotar | Andromeda Demir​

 

[Perseus Kotar]

Perseus had seen the man walking over though he didn't realize exactly who it was until it was too late. Well, too late to avoid anyway. He'd never met the man but his name was known well amongst those now belonging to this rebellion. He stood silent for a moment, swishing the small remains of his drink around the bottom of the can before looking back up to Antares and meeting eyes with him. "Sure," he nodded before tossing his own can into a nearby pile of other empties. "Shouldn't I be the one hitting you?" he lifted the can, snapping it open, a halfhearted smile cracked his weary expression. "Perseus." Taking a sip of the raised drink he let out a sigh, his shoulders sagging with an invisible weight. He shrugged. "All of this," he said, looking from side to side. He tried to match the tone of the locals, hoping that whatever inaccuracies might be mistaken for exhaustion. "All these things, all the dead," he shook his head.

A sort of wistfulness wove its way into Perseus' words. A sense of loss emanating from him emotionally though his thoughts rest on experiences of his own, not the readily apparent current events. It was a skill he had learned early in his training. Leaning on his emotions, using them to amplify and create a near false authenticity without speaking clumsily or cliche. It was a subtle art but one he took to easily. "The respite is nice, of course.. but what's next? What's next for any of us?" That was the trouble wasn't it. Once all the fighting was done, these meaningless rebellions led to what? A rebuilding? Not much to rebuild here in the first place, thought Perseus to himself. This entire ordeal had been an inconvenience from the onset. He'd put in the legwork, he'd identified who he needed to talk to and when and where they'd be alone - and then everything had gone to hell. Zevran wasn't going to like that. Whatever deal he could have worked out with the Uppers had gone up in smoke and here he was, trying to pick up the pieces; and get rid of the evidence.

"I overheard they took a few prisoners." he nodded up the way. "I wouldn't want to be them," Perseus mused.

 

[Antares Demir]

THE CITY - IRVULIX V

"Nah," Antares said modestly. He was aware that he was a leader -- well the leader of Rising -- and people looked to him. But he didn't consider himself above them, as such. It meant he was first in and last out more than it meant he was the king. "We're all digging together here." He took the last dregs of his drink before he tossed his can onto the pile of empties.

"This place is going to be a queen and a half to clean," he commented. "I'm not sure it wouldn't be better to just let this place collapse. It looks like a stiff breeze might knock some of these shitboxes down." Ares scoffed and sat on the edge of the table next to where Perseus stood. "Then again, it's got some kind of infrastructure. Water purifiers and hydroponics." He sighed, scratched at his stubbled neck. "Well, a problem for another day, I guess."

He took a deep drink of the beer. "Prisoners -- yeah. We put most of the people somewhere else. Under guard, but not quite in prison. From what we know, these people were as much slaves as any of us. Just with a nicer view." Antares cupped his knee, rubbing softly at a bruise that was developing. "But a couple... well, we have reason to think they've got information as to how to get into the estates and get these people. So -- yes. Prisoners, I guess."

Sipping his beer, he glanced over at Perseus. "Where'd you come from? You're not from my area." This wasn't an accusation, not even suspicion, just curiosity. "It's heartening to see so many people come out for this. Makes me think we've got a real shot at this thing."

Perseus Kotar​

 

[Perseus Kotar]

"Clean?" Perseus grinned. "There's no cleaning this - a proper scrap and rebuild job, this." he said, motioning his arms around. "Least the walls, and these things that barely pass as roofs, the piping might be nice though. Running water." Perseus mused aloud. Of course, Perseus wouldn't be around to see it if everything did manage to get cleaned up anyway. He could feel the tension in his chest rising already, the urgency with which he needed to silence a potential information leak quickening. Still, he calmed his heart, letting the weariness of the day wash over him. "Another day," Perseus echoed. Taking another swig from the can he kicked a piece of debris about, a small piece of durasteel rubble.

"You're not mad at them then?" Perseus questioned. "They let.." Us. Us. "..Us suffer while they still had full bellies?" That's it. Let down the wall. Perseus coaxed himself, allowing himself to absorb the very essence of whom he pretended to be fill him up. A small ember suddenly set alight in his chest and his words began to bite. He clenched his empty fist and looked at the horizon as if he was seeing things that weren't there. "They're just as culpable." The words felt forced, a bead of sweat forming on his brow before he took a deep breath. Slow it down now, let it go. Closing his eyes, Perseus sighed audibly. "What will you do with them? I can't imagine everyone would be as understanding as you seem to be." The can found its way to his lips again and in a quick moment Perseus emptied it, lofting it onto the pile with a clink and clatter.

"You probably wouldn't know it," Perseus replied. "Out that way, towards the Blight - small village between two hills. Not more than a few of us there anyway." Perseus kicked a small rock and sent it spinning and clattering. "Beats working in the mines, not always easy though - on the move and all." Perseus knew he wouldn't have passed as a miner, dirt and sweat of the last week could easily conceal the surface of his complexion but his hands told a different story - one not wrought with the callouses and scars of heavy mining. This at least, could be explained or believed. "Never set down for long but a chance to push back against the rules, a chance to become truly free? Too hard to pass up."

Perseus let the air hang between the two, his eyes gazing out upon the tents and fires of the others. "You know, if you're getting the feeling I might not be telling you something - you're right," he said abruptly. Turning to face the man, Perseus took a step closer. "These people, the ones we've been fighting for the last day or so.. it's why I'm here." Perseus took another step towards Ares. "They're the reason we've been living out there, scrabbling to get by," a raised arm pointed and his voice rose as he continued. "My father was a miner, till he wasn't. At least we'd had a roof over our heads, after he passed though they.." he paused, visibly searching for the word. "Re.. Re-allocated our hovel to another more productive family." Perseus took in a deep breath, closing his eyes for a moment before he shrugged his shoulders. "Had a brother too, 'cept they kept him in the mines. We got separated." It took all his energy to draw forth the emotions he sought, the sadness, the fear, the hurt - but it was effective. Fighting it back down just as he'd conjured it he flexed his jaw. "I was hoping... that I might be able to get an answer out of one of the prisoners. One of them knows something I'm certain of it."

Antares Demir ​

 

[Antares Demir]

LOCATION INFO

Antares felt his jaw tighten, and he had to remind himself that even here in this rebellion, not everyone would see things the same way or have the same lived experience. He took a drink and set the can to one side and then stood up. "Oh, I'm mad at them all right," Ares said quietly, his eyes dancing with the firelight as he gazed into it. "I could kill every one of them with my bare hands, if I let myself. Oh, my hands itch just thinking of it," he said. It felt dangerous to speak the thought into the world, as if it made it that much more likely to come to pass.

"But that kind of logic... yeah, it all fits together, but we gotta temper it a little, right?" He jammed his hands into his pockets, took another half-step toward the fire. They were almost alone, then, in the wee hours of this morning. Two others snored loudly in a booth across the room, while a young man and woman were huddled in quiet conversation and what looked like heavy petting from where Ares stood. "Because -- my parents put me in the mine. The village elders, who I respect, enforced the quotas. Do they deserve punishment because of that? We all do what we have to to get by. It's these bastards in their estates, with their magic machines from the sky, with their soft la-de-das. They're the ones pushing down on all of us."

He frowned and drew a hand from his pocket to stroke his jaw. "Something will have to be done," he said after a thoughtful silence. "I just don't want to become as bad as them, you know? Not when I've taught all these people how to overthrow tyrants." Ares chuckled, picked up his beer, and took another drink.

He listened to Perseus; it seemed like everyone had a story like that on Irvulix V. "Not the first story I've heard like that," Ares said. "Not the last, either. I have -- well -- had... a brother and a sister. They both died in the mines. So..." He hesitated a moment, then nodded towards the door. "Come with me. These people aren't in good shape, so we can't really push them, but -- I don't begrudge you asking." He led the way toward the prison cells where they were holding the functionaries.

Perseus Kotar​

 

[Perseus Kotar]

"It's these bastards in their estates, with their magic machines from the sky, with their soft la-de-das."
​

The man's words reminded Perseus of exactly where he was, a jarring contrast to think that these people were barely aware of spacecraft let alone the greater universe. Incredible. Contrary to Ares' thoughts on the matter, Perseus very much believed those who were complicit deserved every bit of wrath as those pulling the strings. Of course, he had the benefit of being an external observer - save for the last week and a half. This wasn't meant to be some philosophical debate however, and so he conceded the point with a nod as Ares continued speaking. Setting down on an upturned crate he rest his arms on his knees.

A smirk stretched across Perseus' features as Ares spoke about his desire to not 'become as bad as them'. "Justice is blind, nothing bad about it," he commented. Looking up from the ground he nodded wistfully as Ares mentioned his siblings. It was a careful balance of being objective and yet allowing his emotions to breach the surface, too far one way and it would feel disingenuous, too far the other and it was far too robotic. Perseus didn't have words and so he let the silence hang as Ares pondered. As he made to leave, Perseus rose leaving his can where it sat. Progress. The next few minutes would be crucial and he'd have to stay light on his feet. Threads of a weave, the options ahead were numerous but Perseus reminded himself of the bigger picture. Situations had changed on the ground here but perhaps he could find some way to still come out ahead. First things first. There was still the matter of the liability, the only one who could identify him, the only one who had capital to trade for their freedom. If Perseus wanted to survive he couldn't afford such an outcome.

"So.. I hope it isn't too forward. Your brother and sister, what were their names? It's not always easy I'm sure but there's something about the 'membering." Quietly he listened to the crunch of their boots over the rubble and debris, fingers brushing against the vibroblade at his waist. There would be a time for it, but not yet.

Antares Demir ​

 

[Antares Demir]

THE CITY - IRVULIX V

Antares regarded Perseus curiously, sidelong as they walked over the rubble and wreckage. It wasn't even all from the battle earlier that day; no, The City had been succumbing slowly to disrepair for what must have been decades, maybe longer. "It's not forward," he told Perseus. "I'm a little surprised you don't know. We're all -- in each other's pockets. But if you haven't been with us long, I suppose that explains it. It's no big secret. My older brother -- Atlas -- died years ago. There was a gas vein and The City hadn't replaced our safety sensors." A bitterness crept into his voice that he couldn't repress. "A spark was all it took. He was one of nearly twenty who died that day."

He kept walking, taking a left at a junction, nodding to a pair of passing revolutionaries. Antares had been only eight years old when Atlas had died.

"Andy -- well, Andromeda, but only mother called her that -- is... was my baby sister. We all thought she might get out of things all right. She brought water to the miners. In and out. Less likely to be caught up in a blast or a collapse, we hoped, but -- " Antares' voice broke around the lump in his throat, and he looked away from Perseus, at the wall on his other side, even though there was nothing to see. He brushed tears from his cheeks, wiped his hand on his trousers.

"When the mine collapsed, she was one of the handful who -- well, she didn't make it," Antares said gruffly, finishing with a cleared throat. "That was just a few months ago. She was -- barely grown -- but these City bastards had her in the mines." Hands flexed; oh yes, he could easily kill every last one of them if he let himself slip. "What about your people?"

"Just in here," he said, gesturing to the area he had designated as a holding area. Inside, a woman in a tattered white coat looked up from a bag of medical supplies she was sorting through.

"Antares," she said, slightly taken aback. "What can I do for you?"

"We have some questions for these people," said Ares, hooking his thumb toward the quartet of rooms where the four City bureaucrats were being held. "Are they well enough to talk?"

The woman hesitated, glancing at Perseus briefly, then nodded reluctantly. "Yes, but just to talk. One of them is in particularly rough shape. I don't have the supplies I need, and I'm not sure if the stuff I've jury-rigged is going to cut it. So... be careful."

Ares ducked his head in a reasonable approximation of a bow. "Got it. Thanks. If you wouldn't mind waiting outside..."

She nodded and let herself out into the corridor. Ares turned back to Perseus. "You heard the lady."

Perseus Kotar​

 

[Perseus Kotar]

Good. It seemed the story had stuck, at least for now. Beyond watching where his feet were going there wasn't much to do beyond following a half step behind Antares and listening which he was happy to do; it served his ends. Well, someone's end, anyway. If it would help him get off this bloody planet then it was a worthwhile activity in his mind. The pair traveled through the mostly empty streets, the few souls lingering about receiving a curt nod or a tired wave. Perseus kept an eye on their route, mentally noting the turns and adjustments. It could never hurt to have an escape route in a pinch. Perseus nodded in silence as the other man spoke about his past, about his family. A haphazard thought entered his mind related to the mines. Crystals. So far off the beaten path, perhaps there were still crystals buried in its crust, unmolested from the hundreds of years of pillaging done by the Jedi of the past or their Sith counterparts. That was, assuming these oligarchs hadn't looted them all for themselves. It was an interesting thought, to be sure. Perseus was brought back to the present abruptly when Ares asked about his people. Biting the inside of his cheek, Perseus took a breath before responding. "I gave up hope a long time ago, but now... Maybe they're still out there. My brother and my mother."

Perseus trailed off. They'd arrived. Looking about, he swept his eyes across what had been turned into a small confinement area - hardly secure, but then again, after what had just happened no one was likely to put up much of a fight. By the sounds of it from the woman in the white coat it was unlikely any of the hapless detainees even could if they wanted to given their condition. After a brief back and forth Ares had dismissed the woman, her footsteps receding. Across from the two men, Perseus could see the four small holding cells. A quick glance around the room suggested that they were in what could have passed as a small substation once, certainly not a prison of any kind but Perseus had seen such temporary lockups on other planets. In its rundown state, it would be very temporary. At least, for one of the occupants.

Intentionally Perseus strode across towards the detainees in their rooms, eyes seeking out a face he knew soon to be a face he had known. Peering into the first room he laid eyes on the figure of an older woman, gray unkempt hair cascading across her hunched shoulders. Not this one. The next room held a younger man, thin, tattered clothing covered in a mixture of dust and blood, seated with his face in his hands. Perseus wouldn't have liked to have been any of these poor souls but this one too was not the man he sought. Fighting against a rising sensation of frustration he looked to the third, then paused. This room had a small cot, bloodstains, and discarded bandages littering the floor. A broken and beaten figure rested atop it. Narrowing his eyes Perseus tried to see the figure more clearly. A medium-sized humanoid frame lay still, clothing bloodier than the last, and bits of fabric were torn and cut away to reveal bandages. This must have been the one the woman had been referring to. How fortunate. "I recognize this one," Perseus turned towards Ares. "That's him," he said. "The man who upended my world." The man inside was a threat, a danger to Perseus. He could identify him, call him out, and expose him as an outside agent. The results of which would be dire. He could feel the vulnerability, a taste of iron spreading across his tongue as he stepped into the room. It stirred anger within his chest. Perseus didn't like being vulnerable. On the outside, he could feel his face flush red, inside a turmoil of emotion. He had no true connection to this man aside from their collapsed deal, it was the fear that drove him. It was the fear that consumed him. He had to control it though, channel it. Conceal it. The figure sat up at the sound of Perseus entering, his eyes searching the other man's face. "Baran Quell... You survived," Perseus said, sounding surprised. "I wasn't sure you would, just barely by the looks of it though." The injured man blinked a few times, failing to recognize the speaker for a moment but then his eyes widened.

Perseus could feel the energy welling up around himself, inside of him even, and now his target lay before him. How easy it would have been to simply slide a dagger between the man's ribs, a quiet pillow pressed into his face but no, those would be obvious. No this required a subtle touch. Gently at first, he clenched his fist, projecting the power of the Force towards the man, opening one of the stitched wounds on his leg beneath the bandage. A crimson spot began to appear immediately. "Pity you didn't escape," mused Perseus. "Look at you now, you can't even get up can you?" he asked mockingly. A twitch played at the edge of Perseus' lips as he focused in again, deeper this time. A pained grimace flashed across the man's face as Perseus sought to free him of his misery, tendrils of the Force silently boring into the man's leg. With an near imperceptible flick of his wrist, Perseus felt something snap and the man's mouth opened as if to say something but nothing came, instead the man collapsed back to his prone position. It's finished. The small red patch had gone darker now, an artery severed by shattered bone. Something perhaps the medical staff had overlooked. Quickly turning towards Ares Perseus stepped backwards from the man's body. "You might want to call your medic... I didn't even touch him." An expression of surprise remained painted on Perseus' features. Shock even, the manufactured opportunity to get some answers and enact his own vengeance seemingly slipping through his fingers. "I... Tell me where they are!" he shouted at the now unconcious man, reaching for his shoulders. "Tell me!!"

Antares Demir​

 

[Antares Demir]

THE CITY - IRVULIX V

Ares averted his attention, shifting to lean against the doorway to the room where Baran Quell was being kept. The man had had a rough go of it during the battle; Ares' men had pulled him from the wreckage of the administrative center that had collapsed after a fire caused by the fighting. He felt a certain amount of empathy for the fellow, but no more than any of the others in The City who had suffered in the attack. Casualties of war were a tragedy, but a necessary one.

He didn't want to watch Perseus' interactions with the man. That felt like an intrusion on something intimate. He was sure he wouldn't want anyone to watch what he might do to the people responsible for Andy's death. So far it had been a fight against the system that all of Irvulix V had been under for as long as anyone could remember, but when they reached the estate district...

Perhaps it would be best if he avoided any situation like this. Being alone in a room with any single one of them. Again, his palms itched, itched in a way that only wringing a neck could scratch.

He felt a flicker of something -- apprehension? -- and the next thing he knew Perseus was calling out for help. Ares turned to look inside briefly, but was already moving toward the door to the corridor. "Doc," he called. "Doc, something's up with one of them!"

The medic hurried back in, pushing Perseus out of the way to crouch beside Baran, who had already lost consciousness, never to regain it, try as she might. When she had done all she could, she straightened and went into the main room to wash her hands in the sink. "Sir," she said to Ares, nodding him over. A soft whisper: "What happened?"

Ares offered her a towel when she was finished. "I don't know. One minute he was sitting up, the next -- " He shrugged. "We didn't do anything to him, if that's what you're asking."

Her eyes narrowed a little. "I know you didn't. But -- him? Haven't seen him around much."

"He's not from our little cluster of villages," Ares murmured. "But his story isn't so different from ours. He just wanted to find out what happened to his mother and brother. Anyway, I was there, he didn't do anything to Quell."

The medic didn't look satisfied. "Watching all the time?" she asked quietly.

Ares met her gaze stonily. "Of course," he lied. "Watching all the time."

The medic's face finally softened and she turned away from the sink, flopping the towel over her shoulder. "Right, then. He was all but crushed under that building, so it stands to reason there would be... complications. We did our best with him, but with internal injuries, it's hit or miss..." Her voice trailed off. "I'll take care of disposal and notifying his next of kin, if we can find them."

Ares felt a stab of icy vengeance when he realized he didn't care a fig about Quell's next of kin. He licked his lips and nodded. "Right. Good. Thank you. We'll get out of your hair." He turned to Perseus, beckoned him over. "We'll leave the good medic to her work." He led Perseus into the corridor and began weaving his way back towards the center of the city. "Have you got a place to sleep?"

Perseus Kotar​

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

She was in the mine again.

Andromeda frequently returned to the mine. Tonight, like the other times, she was fully unaware that she was dreaming, safely asleep in the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Despite the warmth and comfort of the bed she had, the full belly, the shine of comradery she enjoyed from being with her fellow padawans, in the mine she was cold and achy, hungry, desolate. She was lonely, despite being surrounded by people who, by and large, she had known her entire life.

The people weren't always the same. Most often, her beloved brother Antares was there. Often Atlas, too, his features matching to the sketch she had made of him as a girl, because he had died before mother had saved enough for the family photograph. Mother and Father were there less frequently, which only made sense, because they didn't work in the mine, but rather in the packaging facility. Tiny was there, and Jaska and Josha.

She shifted the water keg on her back, careful so as to avoid losing her balance under its ungainly weight. The journey was treacherous, but she had just about learned to descend the ramp that led down the main vein of the mine. Things got more dicey when she had to get off the ramp pathway and over the rocky tunnel floor. Her fingers tightened on the straps of the water keg backpack, and she ducked to get into a lower tunnel.

There was a figure at the end of the tunnel. She felt uncertainty radiating from this figure, overlaying the familiar presence of her brother Antares. She smiled broadly, her pace increasing. "Ares," Andy called jovially. Her voice echoed off the tunnel walls, distorted. As she got closer, she saw Ares was not alone; he stood with -- a shadow. A dark stain, that articulated into a humanoid form as she got closer. The tunnel seemed to elongate, so the closer she got, the further away she was from Ares. She watched with mounting horror as the shadow turned on Ares. At first they embraced like old friends, but then one of the shadow's hands took Ares by the throat, while the other hand jammed into his mouth.

Andromeda increased her pace, her knees aching under the weight of the water keg. It sloshed about, making her unsteady on her feet, but she kept her eyes on Ares. The shadow was slowly pushing itself into Ares' mouth, arm disappearing up to the elbow, then deeper. Ares struggled, struggled -- his arm flew out towards Andy, and a muffled, panicked cry escaped him.

I'm coming, Andromeda shouted back, her voice echoing, distorting once more. Hold on!

And like it always happened, the mine collapsed. Andromeda flung herself to the ground, willing the rocks not to fall, just like that day --

She sat bolt upright, cold sweat trickling down her neck and back, heart pounding in her chest. Andy was alone in her small room in the Jedi Temple, the all clean lines and modest comfort. The moonlight and the ambient light of the planetwide city slanted through the half-drawn blinds of her window. Her blanket was tangled around her calves.

"Ares," she whispered to herself, putting a hand to her chest. Something was heavily pressing there, and she was halfway to her small desk before she could put her finger on it, name it to herself: a certainty that her brother was in mortal danger. She found her datapad and rapidly tapped out a message to Baig: I need to go home. It's an emergency. Please come. Please please come. Your friend Andy.

Perseus Kotar | Antares Demir​

 

[Perseus Kotar]

The doc pushed past Perseus and he took two steps back, once again fighting back against his emotions and quelling them deep below the surface. He took several more steps back out into the room and ran his fingers through his hair in apparent distress. Simultaneously his eyes flicked to the room where Ares and the doctor were conversing. Occupied. Perseus saw an opportunity. Left on the large central table of the room he was in lay the supplies the doctor had brought in, an array of bandages, dressings, but more importantly medications. A swift glance and a quick walk past the table found several of the vials of liquid gone from the kit. Thievery wasn't exactly in his nature but given his current circumstances and the new parameters for his mission, let alone survival, necessitated some deviations from his normal routine.

He paced quietly as he waited for the doctor and Ares. He felt relieved, that was the only loose end and something no longer to worry about. A few moments later Ares emerged. "He's gone then?" Perseus took a deep breath. He didn't have any other words and so nodded silently as the pair departed. They began tracing their way back towards the part of the city where a defacto camp had been erected. It was probably the least damaged area during the fighting which meant there was plenty of disrepair but at least it was safe. "Just wherever I've been able to find a corner, honestly." he replied to Ares' inquiry. "Is there a larger plan? I can't help but feel like we've only just scratched the surface of this whole... thing," Perseus motioned to the space around them. He'd managed to tie up the loose end but he still needed a way off the planet and he still needed to figure out a way to return to Zevran without empty hands. Perseus would need to bide his time, wait for the proper moment to strike whether that was in moments or in days or even weeks. It went against every bit of his nature which was to act swiftly and deciseively.

As the two settled into a pace weaving through the rubble and debris filled streets Perseus couldn't help but feel a little apprehensive. It started as a small buzz in the back of his mind, an irritating sound he knew wasn't real. He could feel... something. A small twinge upon his sixth sense, a shift in the Force as if for a fraction of a second he was being watched, seen, observed. Then, it was gone. A perpelxed expression had begun to appear upon his face though he quickly turned away from Ares, stuttering to cover up the strange sensation. "It's.. It's a hard thing you know, the killing." Despite his actions over the past week the killing still weighed on the man, thoughts renewed by this latest. "I don't think I was ready for it when this kicked off but now..." It felt almost natural. A sense of innocence had been lost, the power of life and death held firmly within his grasp - it was almost intoxicating. "...It's survival."

Antares Demir | Andromeda Demir ​

 

[Antares Demir]

THE CITY - IRVULIX V

A dull nod. Almost sullen. "Gone," Ares confirmed, his jaw tightening. After a moment, he reached over to clap Perseus' shoulder. "Don't blame yourself. He'd been through the ringer before we even got here. It wasn't your fault." They left together.

Antares didn't know where to go. He thought Sorelien might well still be awake, waiting to celebrate their great triumph, but his concerns were unchanged from earlier. Better to give her some time to fall asleep. To that end, he led Perseus away, towards the outer wall of the city, and out onto the dock where the commandeered boats were tied up. The guards on the gate let them through. "A larger plan? I mean..." Ares blew out a sigh and jammed his hands into his pockets.

"Take over the estates. Take back every last thing they've got. Whatever they have as a result of exploiting us will be redistributed to the people. And I keep hearing little -- snippets -- about these big, metal... things. They come from the sky and leave things. Food and whatever. Want to get to the bottom of that. If there's food from..." He paused, eyes rolling skyward. The stars glared down, eyes without pity. "...up there. Then we can ease up on production quotas. This whole -- what's the word? -- this whole economy of starvation and rations and they've got access to food? Definitely want to get to the bottom of that."

With aching bones, Ares sat on the edge of the dock. The river was low enough that his boots didn't come within a foot of it, but it was nice to imagine dangling his aching feet in the cold water.

"We're going to have to go back to our mines," Ares conceded after a moment. He drew a packet of cigarettes, hand-rolled, and a book of matches from his pocket and lit up. Offered the packet to Perseus. His new -- compatriot. "And the fields. And the lumber yards. All the things that make this place go. But without a class of people living high off the work of everyone else... we shouldn't have to work people to death. We shouldn't have to go fast and cut corners and kill people to do it."

He took a drag, and the embers at the end of the cigarette glowed, illuminating his face in a weak orange light. Staring into the reflections of the stars in the river, he contemplated -- not for the first time -- what would need to be done. Ares had led this rebellion, and it seemed like people were expecting him to be in charge after, too, but...

"Hell," said Antares, exhaling a mouthful of smoke. They were looking to him, but he was just a guy. A guy mad enough to kill people, sure, but still just a guy.

He tucked the smokes back into his pocket. Smoked in contemplation as Perseus spoke. He didn't answer, just nodded, letting Perseus get his feelings out in the open. Head jerked to the side; had someone called his name? Somewhere -- over the river? He tilted his head, straining. Nothing. "I know what you mean," he finally responded to Perseus. There was something about the dark-haired man; despite himself, Antares felt some kind of connection to him, like they were kindred spirits somehow. After a moment, he stood up, brushed the seat of his pants off. "I know exactly what you mean. And -- you're right. Sometimes it's kill or be killed for people like us."

He headed back toward the gate. "Come on, let's get some shut-eye. There should be a free couch in the flat my crew and I are in. I'll introduce you in the morning."

Perseus Kotar | Andromeda Demir​

 

[Andromeda Demir]

​

"Ye'll wear a hole in my deckplates."

Captain Baig didn't look up from his datapad, upon which -- as far as Andromeda Demir could tell from where she was pacing -- he was playing some sort of block-stacking game. "I -- sorry, I didn't think -- "

Now he did look up from his datapad. "Twas on'y a joke, lass. Somethin' has ye spooked." Baig nodded encouragingly to her, and Andy immediately resumed pacing, secure in the knowledge she would not break his deckplates with her treading. "Can ye tell me about it, lass? Have ye remembered anythin', anythin' that could help us prepare?"

Andy's fingers knit together in an anxious pattern. "I can't -- I don't remember, only -- I know Ares is in danger. He's in such terrible, terrible danger." She glanced at him; he looked... if not suspicious, then certainly skeptical. "I feel it," she snapped. "Right here." Her hand went to her stomach, splaying across the flat of her abdomen, where even still there was a dull ache of dread in her very core. "The Force -- it can show you things, it can warn you about danger and -- and the future."

This last sentence was choked around a growing lump in her throat, and she turned away to hide the tears of frustration that spilled down her cheeks. Hurriedly, she wiped them with her sleeve. "He could be -- like me -- with the Curse. They could be executing him. He could already be dead -- can't this damned ship go any faster?"

"Lass," Baig said, a little exasperated. "Ye need to burn off some nervous energy. We're hours away still." He paused a moment, drummed his stubby fingers on the table. "Tell ye what, lass. If ye can promise not to cut a hole in the ship, why not do some o'those drills ye was talkin' aboot, with yer droid drone."

Andy's hand went to the lightsaber dangling from her belt. She had been trying to put it out of her mind; she had never used it against someone before except in drills and spars. In truth it wasn't even hers, but one she had been supplied until she built her own. "Really? You'd -- you'd trust me to do that without damaging the ship?"

Baig raised an eyebrow. "Ought I to be worried, wee miss?"

Despite herself, Andy offered a toothy grin. "I'll do my best." As Baig lifted a hand, she cocked her head to the side. "Twas on'y a joke, lad."

She picked up the drone from her bag and activated it, letting it lift into the air. A moment later, the vivid blue of the lightsaber bathed her features. There was a moment of tranquility, when Andromeda drew upon the Force, centered herself...

And then the drills began.

Antares Demir | Perseus Kotar​

 

[Perseus Kotar]

Dawn - Before Sunrise
Antares Demir | Andromeda Demir​

Perseus slept uneasily that night. His accommodations were surprisingly decent given their overall circumstances but it was the lull in activity which put him on edge. For the last week it had been engagement to engagement, one fight to the next but now that the adrenaline of the past few days was finally wearing off he found himself feeling anxious for what was yet to come. The killing hadn't phased him much in the moment but that too ate away at the back of his mind. It was no surprise to him then that he found himself up early, following the smell of caf. Neatly leaving his linen in a pile at the end of the bed he'd slept in, Perseus had wandered into the hall and down a few corridors in search of the aroma, eventually ending up in what passed as a makeshift cafeteria area. Rows of metal tables had been haphazardly thrown together on one end of the open room and an array of burners and portable stoves had been set up on the other, behind which stood a few haggard figures as they prepared for the morning rush. Food. Something easily overlooked in the heat of the fight but critically important not only for the usual reasons but also morale.

"Food ain't ready 'et. Caf is though." a voice cut through the quiet.

Perseus looked up from his half slumber, shuffling over towards the lit cooking area. Behind the row of stoves and cooking equipment he could see a few figures, the one who spoke a rather tall woman with a violent shock of red hair peeking out from beneath her cap. "Come on then, grab yerself a mug," the woman motioned toward a stack of metal cups. Blinking a few times and nodding, Perseus grabbed one of the cups and moved over across the table from her. "Morning," he mumbled and lifted the cup. Taking a ladle from a nearby pot the woman poured the steaming hot caf without spilling.

"Sip on that now, got 'er nice an hot this mornin'. Don't recognize yeh, new join?" she asked. Almost before he could respond she began speaking again. "Sorry, wouldn't you know et, been sipping on the juice myself too. Jessie's the name. Nice ta meecha."

It was all a bit much for Perseus, the high energy woman, Jessie, wasn't talking loudly but she might as well have been to his ears. Fighting back a wave of annoyance he obliged her. "Perseus," he said, introducing himself. "It's not a problem, I'm just a bit worn out, ya know?" He forced a smile. Raising the cup to his nose he took in a breath. Now that... that's refreshing. The woman returned a smile in kind, gently leaning on the table.

"Take yer time, I'm sure others will be along shortly. You're not the only early riser."

As if on cue a couple sets of footsteps echoed behind him. He turned to look a fresh set of faces emerging from the fleeting shadows of the night. None he recognized but the evening prior he'd had little time to socialize properly, speaking of which, wasn't Ares supposed to introduce him to a few folks this morning? It is early. Nodding and raising his cup to the woman, he took a step away and headed towards one of the tables he'd seen earlier. "Thanks Jessie," he said in parting. As he walked away the small group of rebels greeted the woman jovially. Shouldn't be too long now, sun's coming up. Perseus sipped on his caf, content to watch the sun rise while he waited for day to break.

- A short time later -​

Bright rays of light crept over the horizon, the sounds of the camp slowly beginning to grow as people awoke, guards changed, the smell of food began to fill the air. He'd only been sitting for about an hour before the food line started to take form. It wasn't excellent but it was far better than the off color synthesized protein packs they'd been eating during the worst of the fighting. This food actually had some flavor to it. A few bits of meat and flour made up what could roughly be considered gravy. Poured over the hard tack biscuits it was almost decent - at least Perseus had to assume comparatively. Hells I miss waffles. Perseus nibbled at one of the biscuits on his tray, forking around a bit of gristle he'd nearly choked on earlier. Raising another bite to his lips he stopped, interrupted by the shout of a loud voice.

"Groups Aurek and Group Dorn, report to the armory immediately! Mission brief at the Theatre in five minutes!"

A small wiry man appeared at the edge of the cafeteria, repeating his call followed by a few expletives. "Oi, if there's a P-p..." he stuttered. "If there's a Perseus here, head to the theatre right now, Ares is looking for you!"

Saved by the bell, I guess, thought Perseus. At least he didn't have to suffer through the rest of this slop. He did however quickly reach to his tray and pocket the other hard biscuit. If some of the other groups of rebels were reporting to the armory it meant there was a fight ahead and who knew the next time they'd get to eat. His own survival rations from aboard his ship had been lost during the start of the rebellion. Hells, they were probably still in the hovel he'd taken up residence in. Thinking about them made his stomach rumble. Alas.

Pushing up from the metal table and putting his feet to work, Perseus headed towards the open ampitheatre. They'd been using it as a base of operations since the previous day and it stood to reason it would stay that way for now. Plenty of open seating, natural acoustics, it made sense. After weaving his way through a few corridors and between a few still standing buildings he set eyes on it, rows of seats already starting to fill with fighters and their collected weapons. Ares, easily recognizable, stood at the center of the stage half-bent over a table pointing to a map. It took him another moment to descend the steps to the stage but when he did Perseus tried to get Ares' attention.

"Ares, what's going on? Another fight ahead?"

 

[Antares Demir]

​

THE CITY - IRVULIX V

"And you trust their judgment from that distance?" Ares' finger was on the map, but his eyes were on Jaska, who had brought the scouts' reports to him. "Understand that I'm really asking -- " he added, almost defensively, as he saw Jaska's eyebrows shoot up. " -- because look, it's a long way to look." His other hand traced a line between his first finger and the flat area on the topographical map the scouts had sketched out a circle.

"I do," Jaska said, folding her arms across her midsection. "They said the Uppers are using trucks to move what looks like furniture and cargo here. Almost like they're planning to move it somewhere, though I don't see how they'd manage without those trucks, unless -- " She fell silent as Perseus approached.

Antares wasn't sure what compelled him, exactly, to include Perseus here. He was certainly a fighter, though that wasn't it, because all of them were, and Ares wasn't especially interested in hearing everyone's opinion on what to do. Perhaps something had bonded the two men -- men, barely, but men still -- during the night. Their philosophical discussion, their shared history, familiar enough to be fable but distinct. Perhaps Anatres would live long enough to puzzle through it, but now, there was action to be taken. Orders to be given.

"Always," Ares answered Perseus dryly with a rueful smirk. "Jaska was just -- have you met Jaska? Jaska, Josha -- our best runners and head of the scouts division -- Tiny, my right hand -- Sorelien, electronics expert, she's the one who got our radios up and running, figured out the rechargeable batters. Everyone, this is Perseus. He was the one snoring on the green sofa."

The group raised their chins in greeting, one by one as Antares pointed at them arrayed around the table. None were sure why Perseus was there, especially, but none seemed particularly interested in questioning it. It seemed that the prevailing attitude was that Ares had gotten them this far on his wits and labors, so it wasn't much of a stretch to continue to trust him.

Little did they know it was to their peril.

"Our scouts returned. Jaska trusts their reports -- and so do I," he added in haste to placate Jaska. Antares pointed at the map as he described each location. "There's a main road from The City to the Estate District. Their defenses are minimal; it seems there is an informal kind of ruling council led by one man. We found his name all over the documents in The City and our captives confirmed that he calls the shots: Ames Guirale. They've drawn back what forces they have to this position, which the scouts describe as a kind of... staging area, I guess. Visibility was limited by distance and light, but best I can tell they're bringing their valuables there."

"A trap," Tiny suggested, hooking his thumb into his belt loop as he sometimes did. "They think we'll come for their ill-gotten loot and are planning an ambush." He glanced at Jaska, who raised her eyebrow but nodded. It's plausible, her reaction said, though she didn't say more. She didn't need to.

"Our scouts thought it looked like they were planning to transport it... somewhere. Where and how are a mystery, but the way they organized the piles... like they didn't want things intermingling," said Josha, rubbing his eyes. The tall, wiry fellow clearly hadn't gotten enough sleep. "But why use trucks to take them there and not to where they're planning to keep them?"

These people, in their final moments of relatively ignorant relative bliss, even aware of the snatched rumors of metal machines bringing goods from the sky could not conceive of the same metal machine taking goods back to the sky.

"We'll be on the march in an hour. Another two and we'll get to the first of the estates," Antares told Perseus, pointing again. A box sketched crudely by the scouts, ringed by another box for a fence. "From there -- well, who can say how long it will take. We'll take them if we can. We'll kill them if we have to."

"Here here," Josha said darkly. Ares commiserated. Josha and Jaska, the twins, were the only surviving children out of five. Their mother Iris had died in the collapse that claimed Andromeda; their only other sister, Jules, had died in the same explosion that had killed Atlas.

"We go house by house. We thin out their defenders as we find them. I'm more than certain we outnumber and outgun them, based on the papers we found here. We end this." The war council absorbed this, studied the map, and one by one agreed. "Right. Jaska, Josha, I need you two with your scouts teams. You're the best I have. Take radios -- Sor, can you get them set up?"

The City devolved into a flurry of activity as the people prepared for the final push.

​

The third estate was cleared, and unlike the first two, they didn't want to come quietly. The three men of the family were dead, along with three guards. A woman and her daughter had surrendered and were in custody. Antares was beginning to feel the fatigue. It had taken longer to battle through the the estates than he wanted, and they were well past midday now. He was starving, he was tired. He reached for his canteen on his pack, found it empty. He turned, glanced to Tiny, who was drinking from his own canteen, then to Perseus. "Have you got my water?" he asked, and took it back from his compatriot, took a swig before handing it back.

"Let's -- stop here for an hour," Ares announced, phrasing his order as a suggestion. "There's plenty of food and a water filter. We can eat, rest our feet a little. Be ready to move in one hour!" Ares took Tiny by the shoulder. "I'm going to go somewhere quiet, touch base with the twins and Sor." He glanced between Tiny and Perseus. "Grab something to eat, gentlemen, rest your bones."

Tiny nodded and turned toward Perseus. "Let's rustle up some grub. Something for the boss, too."

Barely a few minutes later, Ares came thundering down the stairs once more, shouting for people to make ready. "Jaska radioed," Ares told Perseus and Tiny as he found them in the kitchen. "Guirale is on the move. They think he's trying to escape with his men. We gotta move."

Perseus Kotar | Andromeda Demir​

 

[Perseus Kotar]

-​

The fighting had been intense as they'd pushed into the estates, the first couple were relatively quick to acquiesce but the last one had been a struggle. Thankfully they'd finally managed to breach the barricades and clear it out with only a few casualties of their own. Several of the Uppers lived, more died. The important part was what Perseus had begun to pick up on. It hadn't begun to click until the latest engagement but all the pieces made sense. What perhaps amazed Perseus the most was these Irvulixi could hardly conceptualize that that was actually what was happening. They're trying to evacuate. Not just away from the estates but off world entirely. It was the only rational explanation - it meant that Perseus needed to advance his plans sooner rather than later. An opportunity soon presented itself.

The canteen would have been an easy way to do it but with the rate they were drinking water he couldn't as easily gauge the time it would take for the drug to enter Ares' system. Too early and there was little doubt the man's friends would easily point the finger at Perseus, too late and the opportunity might slip his grasp entirely. It was a careful balance of risk vs reward. As such, he hadn't spiked the man's canteen - the water remained pure.

As they took a much needed respite before pressing onward, Tiny and Perseus beat feet to find food. Unlike their previous lodgings there were no field kitchens here, at least not in the conventional sense. Every now and then someone would procure a personal burner or food that was at least edible but there was a very real superstition that perhaps some of the food had been tampered with by the Uppers, leaving behind food to poison or somehow sabotage the rebellion efforts. Someone from another group had claimed sickness but given the state of disrepair and the extensive lack of modern medical technology, Perseus suspected it was simply a matter of eating spoiled food. Nonetheless, he and Tiny scrounged for packaged food if they could find it. A few sealed packages were found in some of the dwellings and a few vacuum sealed rations but by and large most of the food they found wasn't sealed. No matter, Perseus didn't believe the man was particularly suspicious by nature.

"I think there's one more unit past this one we can check, then we should probably get headed back," he said to Tiny. The two hadn't talked much, content to seek out sustenance in silence. Perseus couldn't help but wonder though. "So, how'd you get the name Tiny anyway - I assume that's not your given name?" Perseus asked. Ducking into the next unit, Perseus began to rummage through some cabinets to no avail. "I'm surprised at how little these Uppers really have, more than we ever did but that's not saying much."

Nodding back towards the corridor Perseus moved to head back. "Shall we?"

-
​

Perseus heard the shouts, surprised at how quickly they were to be on the move again. Blast. Only minutes had passed. He had to be quick. Now, there was no time. "I'll catch up Tiny, I gotta take a wiz." Darting quickly to the side around a corner, Perseus nestled up next to a wall where he retrieved Ares' canteen in one hand, a vial from his pocket in the other. A quick press on the top opened it before dumping the contents of the vial into the canteen. Resealing it, he gave it a shake and stepped back out into the open. He could see the others, grabbing their things, Ares directing traffic almost as people rushed to press the attack. "Ares!" he shouted, raising the canteen and a packaged ration bar. "Quick, you'll need the energy."

Antares Demir | Andromeda Demir
​

 

[Antares Demir]

THE ESTATES - IRVULIX V

Tiny regarded Perseus with wary eyes. It wasn't that he didn't trust the man. He just didn't trust anyone outside of Ares' inner circle and the village he had grown up in. But Ares seemed to think he would benefit from the views of an outsider, and it wasn't as if he wasn't there risking life and limb with the rest of the crew.

The story of Tiny's nickname was fairly straightforward, and nothing like a state secret. "I'm the shortest out of my friend group. Of the men, anyway," he amended, thinking fondly back to Andromeda Demir. She had been just a little bit shorter, the perfect size to sling his arm around her shoulder comfortably. She was the only one who hadn't teased him about his height, even in fun the way Ares and Josha had. "Tiny by name," he recited Ares worn-out bon mot, a melancholy smile spreading across his lips. "Tiny by nature."

Shaking himself out of his reverie as Ares' announcement boomed through the place, repeated on a dozen tongues so all could hear. Time to move. He stuffed a few prepackaged rations into his bag; there would be time to sort and distribute them later, but it sounded like things were moving quickly now.

"Saw a toilet room back that way," he offered to Pereus' already-retreating form, hooking his thumb over one shoulder. He was gone.

Bedlam.

Ares replaced his weapon's battery pack as he stalked through the unfolding chaos. His men ran this way and that, collecting their packs, finishing their meals as they went. The estate's rooms were large, but with everyone running at cross-purposes, it seemed cramped and disorganized. He turned when he heard Perseus calling out for him. He turned, made his way over. "Thanks -- haven't had the chance yet," he told Perseus, glancing around him as he raised the bottle to his lips. This estate water filtration, it hit different. "Seen Tiny?" He drank deeply again from the canteen, then slotted it into his pack and began on the ration bar.

"These are hideous," he confided in Perseus around a mouth full of the rations. "But -- I'm sure it's the same in your village -- they're miles better than the mush we had at home. Our mothers did the best they could, but it was grim."

He raised his voice, bellowed over the din: "We march in three minutes!"

​

The fighting was hard.

Guirale's men were no slouches, but they had never encountered numbers like this before. The troops got fewer as they approached their destination; either Guirale had pulled them back in reserves, or there weren't many left. But there were also logistical challenges.

It turned out the circle that the scouts had seen as flat in darkness was really a circular building, shaped like a donut almost, with a large empty space in the middle. The building -- labeled Corrections Spaceport, which was a foreign concept to Antares -- provided at least three benefits to Guirale and his men. First, it provided cover from fire. Second, it allowed them an elevated position on which to rain down fire on Ares and his men. Third, it shielded their numbers; he didn't know how many were inside. It sat in the bowl, almost a crater; his scouts had observed from a distant bluff, accounting for the distortion.

They were holed up in a guard hut near the spaceport; Antares had needed to see for himself what they were dealing with. The rest of his men waited, a short distance back on the road, out of sight.

"We have enough to surround this place," Ares told Tiny, Perseus, Josha, and Jaska. Sorelien was present via her radio, from the opposite end of the large building. Ares had finally raised her on the march, and she had brought another few dozen men on the river route. These were younger, less experienced, but eager to do their part. And if he could force Guirale to surrender by having a sheer numbers advantage -- which he thought he did, but wasn't entirely sure -- then it would all be worth it. "But not to surround it and take a significant number of fighters inside."

"We've still got explosives," Tiny suggested, thumbing over his shoulder toward the troops' staging area. "We could blow a hole in the wall where they're not expecting us to be. Or cause a diversion."

Antares considered this, biting his thumb knuckle. "Hmm." He studied the sketches the scouts had provided, augmented now with their new information. "We know Guirale is in there. We can't let him get out. But I don't want to blow up what's in there unless we have to. I'm sure there's plenty of food and resources that our people need. Still... if the cargo is on the inside of the ring, if we blast a hole in the outside..." He glanced at Tiny with a knowing smirk. Ares pointed at the map. "Here. And here. We'll do a pincer maneuver. And then... well, whatever's inside we'll just have to take as it comes."

He turned to the radio. "Got it, Sor?"

"Got it," she answered.

"Take your men to the north end. Set up a perimeter. Need to be sure Guirale doesn't run out that side." Sorielen agreed. Ares turned to his crew. "Right. We have our plan and you have your orders. Tiny, Perseus, with me. I'll take a squad. Josha, Jaska, take a squad each. One of you go to the other breach, the other to the door. And I'll have the rest of our troops form a perimeter and be prepared to reinforce us. If you have no questions, then now is the time."

Perseus Kotar​