Private The Festival of Flowers

[Maeve Linahan]

The skies of Chandrila were a brackish purple that Maeve had never quite liked despite having spent most of her adolescence on the planet. Better perhaps than the artificially clear skies of Coruscant—always obstructed by a thousand metal spires and, in some places, volcanic plumes of refuse ejected from the countless factories in the Works—but still distasteful. Or perhaps she was simply conflicted about being home, this time on business rather than leisure.

The attack on Coruscant a standard week ago had put the Jedi Order on high alert. Knights and Masters had been dispatched to planets across the galaxy to investigate leads, however thin, into the origins of this ‘New Way.’ Maeve could not imagine Chandrila being a hotbed of such terrorist activity. After all, her homeworld was critical to the Rebellion against the Old Empire and had never any proclivities for fanatics, but she supposed she had to leave her preconceived notions out of this.

Fanaticism could crop up anywhere.

Her mission briefing had been annoyingly vague. She’d been partnered with another Jedi, Brandyn Sal-Soren, whom she saw briefly at the gala on Hapes. They were to meet in Hanna, where the planet held its annual flower festival.

Be it chrysanthemums, tulips, water lotuses or white roses, more than a thousand species of flowers were planted and showcased here. Petals blanketed the sidewalks. Trees bloomed with sweet magnolias. It was beautiful, breathtaking.

And utterly vulnerable to a New Way bombing.

The elaborate gown Maeve had chosen was designed to help her blend in with the locals instead of standing out like a raw nerve in her usual Jedi robes. Still, the cold metal of her lightsaber touched her thigh beneath the dress, which would allow her to become a warrior again should the situation call for it.

She had selected a fountain to stand by and was presently picking at a wreath of flowers some passerby had left there without explanation. She didn’t know how Brandyn was to find her. Perhaps he had her physical description, perhaps he would recognize her from the charity ball. All she could do was wait for now, and pretend at least to be enjoying herself like all the others around her.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

​

​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard Lightsaber
Location: Hanna City, Chandrila
Tag: Maeve Linahan


Padawan Brandyn Sal-Soren had been to many places in the galaxy over the last year. Having been dispatched and charged with the investigation of The New Way, his training had taken somewhat of a backseat. That is what it had felt like at first, but then after returning to the Order on Coruscant he had quickly realized that his experience in the field had offered a different sort of training. In many respects, the young noble born Jedi had become street smart, usually via the school of hard knocks.

None of that training seemed to help him find a way to carry the burden of knowledge that had been so unceremoniously foisted upon him. Gone was the quippy, self-assured and some-would-say cocky young Brandyn, and in its place there had formed a self-serious, brooding Jedi with what seemed a permanent thought provoked wrinkle on his brow.

Knowing beyond a shadow of any doubts that his father was involved with The New Way had sent shockwaves through his core. They had never gotten along perfectly, even to the point of Brandyn running away despite being on the verge of being old enough to leave freely. But even with all the arguments and the frustrations of a young man whose dreams had run counter to his father's wishes, Brandyn had never once considered that his father was bad enough to be a terrorist.

It was with surety but also a sinking despair that he had requested the assignment to Chandrila after the bombing on Coruscant. It seemed far removed from the main point of investigation, but the place held special significance in Brandyn's journey. It was Hanna City where he had been on assignment with Aeris Lashiec , where he had sensed and dismissed a feeling of familiarity in the Force and where his father's own tacit admission had placed him that same night. The fact that his father had supposedly been held prisoner and for ransom during this time now sounded like a cover story for his true purposes, as did every business trip he had ever left on throughout Brandyn's life.

Assigned to work with a Knight that was new to Brandyn, he felt that same annoyed twitch he got when he felt like he should be the authority on this mission, but due to rank had to acquiesce to a....Maeve Linahan? He looked over the datapad, and noted her appearance. Various factors at play prevented the usual internal assessment of her level of attractiveness, instead she seemed almost a roadblock he would have to navigate to accomplish his own purposes on Chandrila. He was not telling her about his father, but he was finding out what he needed to learn.

Despite the aroma of the flowers, and the beauty of their presence, Brandyn could have sworn that it was a cloudy day. He had little interest in the festival, or the peddlers and their wares. The only passing thought was that it was some place that Cybelle would love, but the thought brought a feeling of separation and longing that Brandyn could not have cloud his judgment and reasoning, so he had pushed it away.

With a determined stride, Brandyn walked through the crowd that seemed to part of him, and made his way through the festival until spotting what looked like Linahan at a fountain. It was a reasonable landmark to wait at, so he took a swing for the fence and assumed it was her. Her appearance seemed right at least.

"Maeve Linahan?" He said, still several meters away, "Brandyn Sal-Soren. Pleased to meet you." A quick bow was offered in greeting as he came to a stop a couple of meters away.

​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve glanced suspiciously at the civilians roaming around them.

"Brandyn," she repeated, in a way that sounded like she'd known him for the majority of her life, "It's good to finally see you." Instead of offering a handshake or a bow, she nodded only once in his direction. Not because he was a Padawan—certainly, he possessed twice her experience in the field—but she felt it was too formal here in public, when they were to be nothing more than celebrating city residents.

In three short strides, Maeve closed the gap between them. She wore a trailing dress that glittered in the light and a crown of jasmine flowers on her head, courtesy of a passing vendor, making her the ideal model of a native Chandrilan. Which was perfect. She looked the part, now all she needed to do was act it.

Never dropping her practiced smile, she brought her voice to a low whisper beside him, "Did you have to announce our full names aloud? Anyone could be listening."

Maybe it was her paranoia talking, but Maeve had lived and breathed a life in hiding. She was a Jedi Shadow, and shadows did not have names. They were lucky no one visible was within earshot. "Walk with me," she continued and offered him her arm. "Pretend, at least, we are childhood friends reunited."

Expecting Brandyn to slide his arm into hers, Maeve proceeded down the path into the festival. Many other civilians were doing the same: children chasing siblings, mothers holding newborns, couples leaning against each other's shoulders. It only made sense they blended in. Of course, she did not understand just how much she was asking from him.

Maeve hardly knew anything about Brandyn, or the Sal-Sorens, or the complicated web of his relationships. All she understood was that the New Way intended to make another statement today, and it was in both their responsibilities to ensure hundreds of more lives were not lost as a result. She expected he'd understand.

"Intelligence suggests there may be saboteurs at work today," she said as they walked down the flower-clad boulevard. "Let's not miss them like we had on Hapes."

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard Lightsaber
Location: Hanna City, Chandrila
Tag: Maeve Linahan


Brandyn bristled at the reproof. Even as he did take up the pleasurable appearance of childhood friends reconnecting, he still dropped a bit of hushed snark that was probably not appropriate. "If The New Way is watching us...they already know we are Jedi...and probably who we are. Trust me. They aren't exactly...here." He finished his statement with a sharp point towards the ground.

He took the offered arm, and slipped into a seemingly comfortable closeness with Maeve. Her comment about Hapes stung. He was after all responsible for some elements of security that evening. And he knew that nothing actually happened there. But he also knew that there were New Way operatives on site, a secret he held to himself even now. Maeve wasn't to know that he was actively hiding a clear failure in his procedures, while embracing the praise for a 'job well done'.

"I read the report. A few things didn't seem to fit the MO though," he said as he leaned in to whisper quietly as if a friend to a friend, "Chandrila has no significant Jedi training facilities...or Enclaves. All attacks to this point have taken place in or around locales where these exist. Almost like a show of force to say that not even the Jedi can stop them. Chandrila would...turn even some of their stalwarts against them."

A group of children with flowers woven through their hair ran past the two Jedi, giggling and playing among themselves. It was indeed a beautiful place. To see it damaged, or its people harmed, it would be something he could not stomach. He had better be right about his next words, or their would disastrous consequences.

"I think it is a play. They are playing us. Something else is going down here. While we are looking for explosives...or bombers...something else is happening here today. Something more important than a random, unfeeling show of aggression."

​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"We can never be too sure," Maeve said simply, although she had to admit Brandyn had a point. There were thousands attending the festival. The New Way had no reason of knowing who they were, not unless they had direct access to encrypted temple databanks. Even if they remembered their faces from the charity gala, it would be almost impossible to pinpoint them among the sea of celebrating Chandrilans. Not when they fit in like everyone else.

Arm in arm with him, Maeve continued down the main avenue, listening as he leaned closer to whisper into her ear, smiling like he was telling her some long-forgotten secret. Only when he was finished did she look at him, one eyebrow raised.

"Turn away their stalwarts?" she replied in a low voice. "Whoever's supporting The New Way, I doubt the murder of a hundred more innocent lives will sway them to turn. Just because the last attack was done outside the Coruscant temple, doesn't change the fact they killed strictly civilians. The bombing had been to make a point. So why not make another here, to prove we are even weaker than we seem?"

"They've already committed treason and mass murder. They have no reason not to continue spreading their vile message elsewhere, no less on a world with a long standing history of support for the Jedi."

Maeve shook her head and observed the festivities with a blank expression. Children playing tag. A couple sucking each other's faces on a nearby bench. A young girl passing flower wreaths from a basket. Anyone could be a suspect. Anyone could be a New Way saboteur, just waiting for the right opportunity to strike. She had to be on the lookout, or she risked the worst.

"You speak as if you know The New Way intimately." She let the words hang. It was not an accusation, but a question. "What makes you think they have something else in mind?"

She did not think Brandyn was paranoid, or even wrong. Little was known about The New Way, despite all her leads and investigating. She'd only encountered a member of their organization on one occasion, a slippery bastard that had given her no information or results to work from. She had nothing on them besides clues and assumptions.

Brandyn, perhaps, knew more.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Hanna City
Tag: Maeve Linahan


How could he tell Maeve that it was purely the thinnest of hopes that made him believe what he was saying. He had to believe his father wasn't privy or openly condoning of the bombing on Coruscant. The rumours of the fractures in The New Way had to be true, and his father surely had to be on the less violent side of the fracture. Small mercies were mercies nonetheless.

"For six months, I lived amongst members of The New Way, various worlds and assignments. Many of the people I met were thugs, ruffians and hired muscle that either cared not for the cause, only money...or they were anarchists looking to raise hell and finding The New Way as a convenient place to whet their appetite. But then there was another group. Larger. Less ardent, but nonetheless real. They were the marginalized, the hurt and the aggrieved. While I disagreed with their reasoning, they were not intrinsically bad people. They just have ideas that are not our own."

It was true. Conveniently so. It meant for a reasonable statement of facts that avoided discussing his father.

"Coruscant was a statement. Not the endgame. There is something else they are planning that is more in line with their stated goals. I was on Vulpter a few months ago and drove getaway for a pair that were toting a case from a medical facility here on Chandrila. This lead has yet to be followed up on despite my persistence. The bombing has distracted the Order. Cast their gaze upon overt aggressive acts being the MO. They don't want to kill people. They want to control...Force Users. Or eliminate them. At the very least suppress their influence on the galaxy."

Brandyn leaned into Maeve, as if enjoying a good natured story of times gone by. His smile was beaming, despite the nature of their conversation. More than once his words had grown hushed, as he seemed to whisper sweet words into the ears of a long lost friend.

Their path had taken them towards an intersection where a juggler and other street performers plied their trade. Brandyn grimaced. The man with multiple objects in the air at once? How fitting.

​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"So you're saying The New Way is made up of fractious cells?" she murmured, considering what Brandyn said. "That would explain the mixed messages we've been receiving from them. Would also explain why they've so far been impossible to pinpoint."

The distinction should have been obvious from the start, but Maeve rarely saw in anything besides black and white. When it came to the Sith, she only saw the worst of the worst. For smugglers, scum. And for terrorists like The New Way? She didn't see people who wanted to peacefully rid the galaxy of the Force, she only saw murderers and monsters.

Even then, Brandyn's words didn't change how she felt about them.

"If what you're saying is true, then we can't afford to let them win. If they manage to find a means to control practitioners of the Force, or a way to dampen us, then they will lay the galaxy open to forces infinitely worse. The Empire. The Hutt Cartel. Corruption. The Jedi have historically been responsible for maintaining peace and order in the Core Worlds. What happens if we just up and disappeared?"

The thought deeply concerned her. They, and the Galactic Alliance, were the one thing keeping the Maw and the Empire from crashing into the Inner Rim like an axe into a tree.

Maeve paused, realizing her mask of indifference had slipped, revealing her usual, resting grimace. Quickly, she brought on another smile, as if they were not talking about the most troubling news in the galaxy yet. "Sorry," she said. "I'm rambling."

As they continued down the boulevard, Maeve pressed her search of the crowd, even as flower petals rained from the sky. "Have you noticed anything suspicious yet?" she asked Brandyn. "I'm not sensing anything out of the ordinary." She wrinkled her nose. "Besides the smell of way too many lilies." Maeve was grateful she was not allergic, else she would have been a disgusting, sniveling mess by now.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Hanna City
Tag: Maeve Linahan


Their path had taken them beyond the intersection and into a small grassed area that one might dare to call a park. They would be wrong though. It was too small. There was however a tree in an advantageous position. He moved quickly towards the tree, pulling Maeve as a lover would to a more private locale. When he turned about, the moment had somewhat caught him up in his imagination and he expected to see a shorter, dark haired young woman looking back when he pulled the blonde Jedi into his arms. The look of disappointment was momentary. The feeling of awkwardness was permanent.

Try as he might, and as he had done on many such occasions before, he struggled to be comfortable in the faux-lover's embrace. It wasn't that Maeve was Maeve. It was who she wasn't that made it feel not right. Brandyn pushed through the growing feel of guilt, a burgeoning sense of betrayal.

This was the mission. This was the cover. This is what he had done not just a few times in the past months. Still, he almost felt an apology was necessary to both the woman in his arms, and the one on his mind.

His distraction was probably pretty obvious at this point. So Brandyn determined just to push on and get on with the purpose of their stationing at the tree.

"Put your head on my left shoulder, looking away...you see the tech repair shop across the way?"

The small store had a large windows giving full view of the internals. A small customer greeting area was at the front, followed by a long work bench spanning the width of the shop. Behind the bend was a single worker, googles affixed to his head and soldering some small item to another.

"Zaken Pavere. Has done regular work for The New Way over the last several months. He was getting paid from us to give us small pieces of information, nothing major...just profile building intel. He got spooked a while ago, and has refused to help anymore."

Brandyn lent his face against Maeve's hair. He closed his eyes, pushing past the guilt caused by the closeness.

"If there is something suspicious to go down. It will likely go down here."

​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve was surprised when she felt the tug on her arm, pulled towards a looming tree covered in pink and gold blossoms. Slashes of sunlight poured in between the branches, and it was like she and Brandyn had stumbled into a perfect romantic hideaway—except neither of them had anything romantic on their minds.

Maeve could sense his discomfort. She had to wonder if he could sense hers too, but she made no show of it. This was the mission. This was the cover. So, she sank into his arms and placed her head on his shoulder, surveying the repair shop across the avenue.

"Hugging you feels like clutching a wet blanket."

The statement slipped out her mouth by pure instinct. She couldn't help it. Maeve was not built for romantics. She was a Jedi Shadow, yes, and a spy with years worth of experience, but she'd only ever worked alone on missions like these. She'd played the role of a harmless shopgirl, a lost tourist, a ditzy partygoer, but not a childhood-friend-turned-lover with someone she'd only just met.

Still, it shouldn't have been a problem. And it wasn't. Maeve simply found it increasingly difficult to act the disguise she was given: someone in love. Because, in all honesty, it was a role she'd never experienced herself, and not one she was researched well on.

Hoping to clear the tension in the air, Maeve cleared her throat and changed the subject, keeping her focus on the repair shop and the man inside.

"If this 'Zaken' is refusing to help, maybe we should have a word with him." She made a quick gesture with her hand to imply what she intended. "I'm sure I can persuade him to offer a little more information, free of charge."

Perhaps it was crude of her, but sometimes, a little violence was needed.

She lifted her head and looked Brandyn in the eye. "We should head inside. Unless you were his Jedi contact, I doubt he'll recognize us as anything more than a pair of… very close friends." She leaned away at that, averting her gaze. To the outside spectator, they looked far from just friends.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Hanna City
Tag: Maeve Linahan


A wet blanket?

HIs cheeks flushed red with annoyance, offence clearly taken, before his eyes darted away from Maeve and he regathered his thoughts. Sure, it made sense, and honestly he was sort of glad that it was difficult for her as well. It made the fudging of boundaries less likely. Still, he did feel a sting to his Sal-Soren pride that she would say something like that so bluntly.

"You'll live, Linahan," he muttered in response. he thought it best not to add barbs to any retort lest the insults only spiral further.

"Yeah...let's have a chat...but keep it cordial will you?" He said, smile as fake as a native Coruscant flower. With that he spun out of their limp embrace, and took her by the hand, to walk her across the way to the store in question.

"You must be a riot at parties," he said with a laugh that was finally genuine. Clearly, he could not keep the barbs away entirely.

The door slid open with an audible ding. The Jedi entered before Linahan could have a chance to continue their trading of words. An older man, greying hair and long handlebar moustache, looked up from his work. His goggles magnified his eyes to the point of absurdity. He blinked a few times, as if adjusting his focus.

"Oh."

Zaken pulled his goggles off, and placed them gently down next to the servomotor he had just been working on.

"I don't do datapad repair. Just buy a new one...save yourself the bother."

​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

"I make no promises."

Maeve was not going to bind herself to a vow not to get violent. She was a Jedi Shadow. Half her days were spent being violent, and with what was at stake, she had every intention of getting the information they needed, no matter the cost and no matter what was required.

"Oh, and I don't do parties," she added, completely missing his sarcasm as they strode across the boulevard. By the time she even could, it was too late. With the ring of a bell, they had crossed the threshold into the engineer's modest shop, the door already sliding shut behind them.

The technician was what Maeve expected from a man who stayed in a repair garage for most of his life. Old, unkempt. She caught silver wisps in his hair, shadows under his eyes, and a mustache that would've looked far better shaved. The urge to lunge at him tugged at her like a cord, but as little as she cared for Brandyn's advice, she could respect it this one time.

"We're not here for a datapad fix. My… fiancé and I were actually looking for some information." Maeve had to stop herself from gagging at the thought of Brandyn as her soon-to-be husband, but she had to come up with a quick cover, so she concealed her disapproval with a warm smile, as if the idea of marriage genuinely delighted her. Which, of course, wasn't true.

"We were referred to you by a mutual friend. Said you might be able to help us with… a special project." She let the words hang, not sure what to more to say. Pleasantries and conversation were not skills she'd trained for back at the temple. Now, lightsaber combat and Jedi mind tricks? Those were talents worth sharpening.

Maeve elbowed Brandyn in the side, expecting him to fill in the silence before it soured to an awkward note. Between the two of them, he was clearly the more persuasive one. Probably a better liar, too.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Hanna City
Tag: Maeve Linahan


Zaken seemed uninterested in the two 'love-birds', though he did offer a slight grin at the elbow in Brandyn's side. Sal-Soren resisted the urge to snip back at Maeve for the sharpness of the 'attack', but he held it at bay. Briana would have been proud of him.

"Tevio sent us."

The older man became rigid, his face showing a subtle wash of recognition. "I don't know no Tevio."

Pulling Maeve along as they bridged the short gap from door to counter, Brandyn rested his free arm on the counter. "She seemed to know you quite well."

"You ain't getting married...are you?"

Brandyn winced but the question remained unanswered. "You have some very dangerous friends, Zaken."

It was the old man's time to wince. "I don't do nothing with that stuff anymore. Nothing...you hear me?"

Zaken moved away from the counter and turned to go to the back of his small workspace. To Brandyn's surprise, his hand was already on his arm before Zaken could move far. The old man turned quickly, moustache whisking through the air. "Let go of me," he said, fear evident in his tone.

"Zaken. Innocent people on Coruscant died. We think Chandrila is next. You can help prevent it. Please," Brandyn said. The young Corellian's eyes fell on a small holo of a young woman and what looked like Zaken's son...or maybe even a young Zaken. "What if it was them...that we were saving?" Brandyn said with a lift of his head.

Zaken looked over at the holo and became silent again. A heaviness fell over him. There was a quiet whisper of a woman's name, and a soft lament about what he had done. Brandyn released his grip on Zaken's arm. Without hesitation, the older man moved to reach beneath the counter. Brandyn stepped back sharply, arm instinctively rising to be between Maeve and Zaken.

A red light in the back of the room began to strobe softly.

"What did you do?" Brandyn said, voice straining.

"I'm sorry. They said you might come."

Clunk

The door at the shop's entrance locked with an unmissable noise. Without a moments hesitation, Brandyn turned, saber coming to hand and igniting. The blade sliced easily through the window, which was followed by a Force push that saw the glass shatter outward.

​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve watched the conversation unfold with increasing doubt. Although it'd only taken them two minutes to fabricate a cover, she was surprised how readily Brandyn had cast it aside in favor of being upfront. Honesty, perhaps, might've been the right card to play on Zaken, but she was a Shadow, and shadows didn't talk. She didn't believe the man would give them what they needed without a little nudging, without intimidation.

But by then, it was already too late.

Red light blinked throughout the shop. Maeve whirled on Zaken, feeling for the lightsaber tucked up the sleeve of her festival dress. She mirrored the betrayal on Brandyn's face, but layered over it with obvious disgust. "Sorry?" she repeated after Zaken. "Is that all you have to say?"

Glass shattered behind her as Brandyn slashed an opening for them to escape through. They had little time to spare. Whoever Zaken had called, they would descend on the shop in moments, and at worst, surround and capture them. The risk was too great, and yet… if Maeve was one thing, it was insufferably stubborn, and she had no intention of leaving without answers.

"We can't leave! Not until he tells us what he knows!"

She fell into her training. Using the Force, she rooted Zaken into place and activated her lightsaber, raising it to his chin over the counter. Cold, blue light clashed against the red, putting the desperation on Maeve's face in full view. "What does The New Way have planned?" she demanded. "Tell us, or I swear by the Force, you will never see your family again."

It was a horrible threat, unbefitting of most Jedi, but Maeve was a Shadow, and again, shadows did not talk. They moved. They acted.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Hanna City
Tag: Maeve Linahan


"Linahan!" Brandyn called back, shocked by her words but also concerned for their escape.

"They will kill my wife if I say anything!" Zaken called, eyes widening at horror. It was clearly not what he expected from a Jedi.

"We have to go..."

Brandyn's words were cut short by the sound of a blaster shot grazing his ear, burning through some of his hair. He ducked, blade coming to bare in the direction of the shot. He glanced back to check on his compatriot only to see a burn mark, smoke rising, on the chest of Zaken.

A second shot from across the road, and the park, maybe three floors up. Brandyn blocked it before it could pass and his Maeve in the back.

"Shooter is in the apartment complex across the park!"

The bystanders had already scattered the moment a Jedi's lightsaber had slashed through the store window. Already, Brandyn could hear the approaching sirens of Chandrilan Security.

​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve heard Brandyn's call and the thread of worry running through his voice, but she didn't care. She needed answers. She was desperate for them. Months she'd been investigating The New Way, meeting one dead end after another, and now that she had an informant in her grasp, she was determined to learn more.

But by then, it was too late. She was too late.

A blaster bolt seared into Zakan's chest. The technician gasped, eyes wide, just before he collapsed against the counter and slumped to the floor. "No!" Maeve cried, scrambling over to examine him, but one look told her the man was gone. Dead. All because she didn't want to let him go, because she believed they had time before The New Way could get there. Now, thanks to her, they were trapped.

Maeve whirled, cursing and fighting back a wave of frustration. "I know!" she said over the sounds of screaming from outside. Panicked bystanders rushed to find cover as two more shots rang out. Angrily, she swatted the bolts aside like they were flies.

"I'm going after them," she told Brandyn. "Cover me!"

It was presumptuous of her to order him about, especially when this mission was utterly his field of expertise. But again, Maeve didn't think. She acted. With Zakan gone and the two of them under threat of assassination, she wasn't about to risk another New Way member slipping through her fingers. Else then this would've all been for nothing.

Else then there would be no one else to blame than herself for Zakan's death.

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

​

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Standard lightsaber
Location: Hanna City, Chandrila
Tag: Maeve Linahan


"Damn it," Brandyn said. No one heard, and it wasn't meant for anyone except himself. A tension release. A venting of frustration that was growing towards his partner. Was this what it was like to be partnered with him?

While Maeve began her pursuit, Brandyn kept his eyes fixed on the presumed location of the shooter. If the shooter was experienced, they were already gone, knowing that the Jedi would catch them if they did not run immediately. Someone of that experience would also have a quick exit planned. Someone less experienced might stay, trying to complete their full mission of taking out the Jedi. It was the latter for which Brandyn had to keep watch.

He moved to the left, strafing to avoid having to move his eye line. At all points, his saber was before him, ready to deflect anything sent his way. He thought maybe the fourth floor. It seemed to have the right angle for the shot on Zaken. So his eyes stayed focused...

A glimmer.

A reflection.

It wasn't quick computing of angles and Chandrila's star's position in the sky that moved his hands, but pure instinct. The person behind the reflection had ill intent towards Maeve.

His hands stretched out, grabbing through the Force to the highest limb of the tree across the road. The very same that had just recently been his vantage point for Zaken's shop. Pulling with mind and will, a loud snap was heard, before the branch fell in Maeve's direction. The crack was followed by a sharp sizzling sound as the branch itself caught on fire, having intercepted the shot meant for Maeve's head.

"Too close."

​

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve darted across the boulevard like a loosed arrow.

The shots had died down as she sped into the field, crushing petals under her feet, flowers blooming in her path, but she kept her guard up. Although local authorities were already on their way, she couldn't bother to wait for them to assist, no less explain the situation to them. She had to do this on her own, else she risked losing everything she and Brandyn had worked so hard for.

Maeve didn't catch the glimmer while she moved. The reflection. And when the shot came, for the briefest moment, she thought it would hit her—or so until the fallen branch of a tree met it, bursting into flames.

That was no dumb luck. She could sense Brandyn's handiwork there, and mentally she offered him her thanks, curt as it was. She might have been a terrible mission partner, but she couldn't say the same for him. He was a better comrade than she'd ever hoped to be.

At the building's front entrance, Maeve kicked the door in. Forget civilian protocol and property damage. As she always did, she was taking matters into her own hands, and she charged upstairs, buoyed by the Force, climbing four floors at a speed that most other Jedi might find insane even with enhancements. She would give her assailant no opportunity to escape.

Maeve burst into the room where she knew the New Way sniper had to be. It was the only place they could be. Whether or not she locked eyes with them, she'd aim her lightsaber like a blaster, her heart stony and cold.

"Move, and you die."

Brandyn Sal-Soren​

​

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Wearing: Standard Jedi Robes
Equipment: Lightsaber
Location: Hanna City, Chandrila
Tag: Maeve Linahan

An hour had passed. Security was on scene, as was a contingent from the Jedi that had been sent. Linahan had her part to play, and Brandyn had his. They had not talked while the scene was being marked off, nor while the on lookers had been questioned...with some detained. He knew though that he had not seen the last of his partner for the day. Their paths would cross again before their time at the scene had ended.

"All of a sudden the Jedi just cut the window open...and then there was shooting...the other Jedi went up to that building over there...I don't know what happened...but if you ask me, these Jedi are getting out of control...at the festival no less! Well I never."

Brandyn overheard the older woman speaking, and a chill ran up his spine. Sentiment aligned with The New Way was growing at a grassroots level. Some would believe today was a Jedi mishap, and overlook the other facets. A familiar stoic presence was felt on his left shoulder. Linahan.

"We are fighting the tide, Linahan. Trying to catch water with a net. Attitudes are turning against us," Brandyn said with a surprising degree of nihilism in his tone.

He cast a sidelong glance, but didn't properly turn towards her. Instead, he just looked out over the small crowd that was still assembled beyond the temporary barricades, and into the festival beyond. He really would like to bring Cybelle here.

"It was something. Linahan. Not sure what it was...but it was sure something," he said loud enough for only her to hear, "do you have your next assignment? Or will you be hanging out with me longer on Chandrila?"

 

[Maeve Linahan]

Maeve walked up next to Brandyn, a faraway look in her eyes.

The scene before her was a mess. Broken glass covered the street. Blaster holes marked the walls. Yellow tape wrapped around the shop, the site of Zakan's murder, now swarming with detectives and local authorities. A few civilians were still being interviewed, she noticed, including a crying woman with a child who bore an eerie resemblance to Zakan.

Maeve looked over them, burying the nauseous feeling in her gut.

At Brandyn's words, she said nothing for a while, then frowned. "Let them think whatever they want. As long as we stay on The New Way's trail and find out what they're planning before they strike again, I could care less what a few dozen people might think of me. We're Jedi. We are the tide."

She glanced down to her hands. Bruises purpled her knuckles, and suddenly, she thought of the man she'd cornered in that building. The sniper who tried to kill her. She had threatened his life, interrogated him, squeezed him like a wet rag for information.

At first, like the others, he wouldn't talk. But Maeve had met enough dead-ends to just let him be escorted away by police. So, she made him talk.

Maeve folded her arms over her chest, feeling cold. "I wouldn't mind staying here and continue masquerading as your pretend prospective wife, but I have actual work to get back to." She folded her arms over her chest. "The information I've learned—it's not much, but it's enough. I need to consult with the archives back on Coruscant to find out more."

She turned to him and offered a weak, rare smile. Then, removing the false wreath of petals from her hair, she set it on his head like a crown.

"Enjoy the flowers, Brandyn Sal-Soren. I'll be in touch."

End Thread.​

​