PUBLIC A Life Ended, A Life Begun [Fel Imperium Funeral]

Discussion in 'Open Roleplaying' started by Maxim Fel, Jun 24, 2021.

  1. Corin

    Corin Nomad
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    Corin straightened a tad, almost as if he were grabbed from behind and brought to attention. Still, he kept an even-keeled smile on his face. Her accusations and statements following directly after amused him, or so it seemed.

    "If that's what you've taken away from this little tête-à-tête, I've either poorly explained myself, or we've been having two separate conversations," his smile remained affixed to his face. He placed the two empty glasses atop a passing server's tray before continuing. "I'm certainly not a pacifist. If there is something in need of fixing and requires a more... abrupt approach, I take the time to enjoy myself. It's rare one such as myself can let loose on something other than old memories."

    Stepping around her, Corin placed his back against the wall, eyes left to wander across the growing crowd within the banquet hall. "And I make a habit not to kill people," he rested his hand beside the hilt of his saber. "It's not my place to play judge, jury, or executioner. Some people spend their entire lives in preparation for that very thing. I merely practice what I've prepared for. Which means" peering at her from out the corner of his eye. "You're zero for two, Princess."

    The stoic mask placed between them said enough. She was hurting.

    "Have you ever considered those rose-tinted glasses you speak of might not be there?" Corin watched Maxim depart the hall, his adopted brother at his side. He slowly turned his gaze back to Aella. "Your father sat on the throne of a nation currently undergoing Civil War. I'm not so foolish as to believe his hands were clean. But I do not fault him for punishing those who betrayed their nation and scrambled for power during all this chaos. Sometimes, mercy proves the better. And sometimes, justice demands blood."

    He took a deep breath. "Ultimately, he made his own decisions. Decisions that put him at odds with everyone closest to him. His children, his generals, his soldiers..." the kiffar blinked. He once more set his gaze afloat, searching for that familiar emptiness felt not long ago.

    A black plated Knight met his eyes.

    "... Well, it took courage to make those decisions. And right now, looking at you, I see someone who's making a decision for themselves, without worrying themselves with the opinions of others," Corin turned Aella's way. "Tomorrow will come, Princess. It is good that you've chosen to see it under your terms."

     
  2. Aella Fel

    Aella Fel Rotten
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    Her eyes followed him as he moved, and when he placed himself against the wall she shifted position to do the same, the cool stone a welcome relief. The corners of her mouth were tight, and it was plain she was wrestling with the barely contained flood of grief and disdain that made for a hellish combination even the drugs struggled to numb her to. There was a feeling in the pit of her stomach that was getting harder to ignore, an instinct that prompted her to run away from these feelings as she always did, leaving them behind for something far more palatable. So long as she was here, there was no such escape.

    Silence persisted for minutes after he finished speaking, and she released the breath she'd been holding in a long sigh, leaning her head back against the wall and closing her eyes as her face seemed to relax. In that moment Aella struggled to find the same apathy that had carried her up to this point, finding that it had been drowned by that same storm that hadn't stopped plaguing her mind since her brother had confirmed something she already knew deep inside. It would be easy to sense the resentful sadness, as she made no attempt to disguise the emotion rolling off of her in waves, both too preoccupied and caring little as to who felt it. He'd said it himself, she was long past caring what other people thought.

    When she opened her eyes that mask was still in place, half-broken and faulty though it was. "Don't compare me to him." Her voice was low, tone seething, and even she wasn't sure if it was a threat or another outburst of barely contained emotion. But it was the only thing she could think of to say in that moment, sick of hearing his allusions to her father and his claims of knowing the man better than she had, regardless if they were true.

    "I don't know what you're trying to do here, but you can't fix something he already broke." She looked at him then, her gaze more focused and intense than it had been during the entire span they'd been talking. "I'm not like him, and I sure as hell don't want to be."

    Her voice broke halfway through the final sentence, her teeth clenching and hands squeezing into white-knuckled fists, nearly trembling, as tears spilled over. Immediately she wiped them away with the back of her hand, cursing quietly and shaking her head, forgetting he was there for a moment. Despite all that had happened between learning of her father's death and now, it still felt like a waking nightmare, and she half-expected to wake up at any moment - one that would, regrettably, never come.

    "Don't fucking call me that. I'm not--" The words caught in her throat, but she forced them out, needing this, "I'm sick of just being Ronin Fel's daughter. I'm not, and if they don't want to acknowledge me as his kid, then I damn well don't want anyone else to either."
     
  3. Tyra Kadenze

    Tyra Kadenze Two-faced, like a coin
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    Kalja's insistence on talking through the incident vexed Tyra. She expected this to a degree, and without any knowledge of how much time she had left to escape, or if escape was even possible, she entertained Kalja's probe. She was at least a bit curious as to who she had just killed moments earlier.

    She answered with an inquisitive tone, "Purge..? Lose it all? What are you talking about?"

    The padawan started to get antsy upon sensing the approach of several others, "Actually, do we really have time for this? I really don't think we do!"

    She turned again, this time intent on making an escape regardless of Kalja's protests, but before that could happen there was an interruption. The doors were forced open completely, and dust clouded her vision. She covered her eyes with arms in response. Adrenalin begun to pump as Tyra prepared for a fight, but that wasn't going to happen with the amount of ignited lightsaber blades she saw piercing the cloud.

    Tyra had gone from the exciting thrill of murder, to irritation, and now to dread. Her face was dead serious, no fear was apparent. The padawan had assumed a combat stance with her sabers in her hands as the doors had burst open, but she relaxed, looking almost defeated. She wasn't in Republic space, where the justice system was exploitable and escape from the law was child's play. Here she faced Imperials. Just who had I murdered? Is a death sentence waiting?

    Tyra would not answer, instead she slowly outstretched her arms, and allowed them to drop to the floor with a clang.

    "I surrender."

    Had her other personality been in charge, she might've taken the fall for Kalja and her Jedi Order, owned up. But this Tyra was selfish. Escaping a prison cell was easier than explaining this mess.

     
  4. Corin

    Corin Nomad
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    "Sounds to me like we've had a bit of a breakthrough today," Corin mused.

    Only time will tell if Aella understood the intention behind his words, be they the connection to her father or his simple response to her emotional outburst. It didn't matter at that specific moment.

    "What is it you want then? I can feel your urge to be somewhere else. You don't like this place. Hell, you probably don't like the planet altogether. Why not leave now?" he asked. There wasn't much reason for her to stick around as far as he could tell. Her siblings seemed far more inclined to lead the Imperium than she did. The ceremony had come and gone. Ronin Fel had been laid to rest before their very eyes. Now the loyalists of the Empire rubbed shoulders under the pretense of mourning. A gaudy, if not a necessary end to the evening.

    "If you don't want to be known as Ronin Fel's daughter, what are you doing to create a meaningful distinction? It's not like boozing around the galaxy, chasin' your next high will do anything for you," he sighed. "I'm not going to pretend to know who you are, Aella because we've truthfully just met. But I do recognize something behind your eyes. An emotion that once dominated every waking moment of my life. It never did me any favors, and I can tell from lookin' at you right now, it isn't of much use to you either."

    He pushed off the wall, his eyes set on one of the many exits within the banquet hall. "I've paid my respects, and now I have places to be. Wanna tag along?"

     
    #44 Corin, Jul 5, 2021
    Last edited: Jul 5, 2021
  5. Aella Fel

    Aella Fel Rotten
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    "Fuck you." Anger was better than tears, better than guilt, better than grief. It was easier to bear anger than anything else, and so that was what she turned to. In that respect, she was more like Maxim than she would admit. Aella rounded on him then, standing directly in front of him and glaring up into his eyes. "If I wanted a lecture from someone who barely knows me, I'd go ask Ronin." That made it simpler to distance herself, calling the man by name rather than acknowledging him as what he'd really been to her - if he'd been a father to begin with.

    For his own part, Barron still stood behind and to the side of his sister, a look of uncertainty on his face. It was safe to say he'd never seen her like this, and he didn't know whether it was best to intervene or let her say what needed to be said first. And so for the time being he remained silent, quietly backing her up in one of the few ways he knew how and simply observing.

    "If you're going to pretend to know me then stop while you're ahead. If you're trying to act like you care, this is a backwards way of doing it. I'm here to mourn my father, not get preached to by some asshole that's just like him." Her right hand formed a fist, and she was just about to show him exactly how she felt when the would-be fight was interrupted by something more pressing.

    At that moment the commander of the Praetorian Stormtrooper Legion entered the banquet flanked by eight similarly armored soldiers, and they halted in unison as their leader raised his voice to be heard by those in the crowd that hadn't noticed their entrance. "Ladies and gentlemen, your attention," All at once a hushed silence waved over those in attendance, "There is a situation developing inside the city, and for your protection we're placing the mausoleum under lockdown. Stay calm, as everything is under control. For your protection…" The rest of whatever speech was being given was quickly drowned out by a crescendo of voices as conversation began anew, this time speculating what had happened to warrant such a response.

    Aella had turned away from Ryv the moment she heard the familiar sound of armored footsteps, and she barely paid attention to the warning as it was given, having heard similar as a child. Instead, she combed the crowd for her other siblings, cursing when she couldn't find them. Hardly a glance was spared in his direction before she walked in the direction of the troopers to hopefully begin making sense of what was going on.
     
    #45 Aella Fel, Jul 6, 2021
    Last edited: Jul 6, 2021
  6. Corin

    Corin Nomad
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    "Suit yourself."

    Corin looked around the room in silence, considering the few options presented to him when the announcer began overhead. Exits were being blocked off almost immediately. Soldiers began rounding up MVPs to likely bring them where they'd be safest, while the masses were probably handled with even less enthusiasm than those of higher standing in the Empire. His options narrowed with each passing second. It brought a smile to his otherwise dour demeanor.

    A good old-fashioned escape. Nothing too over the top. No real danger to himself or anyone else, which made it all the more worthwhile. He didn't want to be there after lockdown really kicked off. Bastion was nice, but it wasn't that nice.

    He maneuvered his way through the crowd carefully, chin low, eyes locked on some distant point ahead of him. Going through a window seemed like an unwise decision. People would hear it shatter. They'd mark his exit with relative ease. Of course, that meant cutting his way out was equally foolish. A giant hole in the mausoleum wall by a lightsaber wouldn't go over well with the latest Emperor. Especially since, well, it was his father's passing being celebrated. That seemed like some unspoken taboo.

    "We'll go for one of the classics, then," Corin muttered to himself.

    It didn't take long to place one of the numerous ventilation shafts feeding clean air directly into the hall. He slipped one foot in front of the other and casually changed directions, now moving towards a far wall. More people bumped into him as he went, their attention diverted from themselves to the growing confusion. Rumors began to circulate almost immediately. Theories about the nature of the emergency ranged from an injured guest to Emperor Maxim Fel's assassination. Corin chuckled to himself. The overactive imaginations of random partygoers proved more entertaining than he expected.

    By the time he reached his destination, one of the black-plated soldiers had positioned himself between the Jedi and his goal. "Typical."

    Approaching the guard, Corin nodded his head.

    "What's going on?" he asked.

    "Lockdown. Rejoin the others," the soldier answered about how the Jedi expected. Curt. Straight to the point.

    "Typical imperial," he murmured to himself.

    "What was that?" the praetorian inquired, his hand tightening around his rifle.

    "Oh, nothing, nothing," Corin raised both hands, doing his best to appear nonthreatening, though it was more misdirection than anything else. He waggled his fingers towards the soldier, the same easygoing smile from his earlier conversation returning to his lips. "Someone from the New Republic delegation has gotten into a tussle with one of the Emperor's guests. You should go handle that."

    "The Emperor's guests... under attack," he stumbled a bit, one hand going to gently pat the side of his helmet. "I need to go deal with that."

    Corin said nothing as the soldier departed into the crowd. He looked up at the metal grating and smiled. "Easy enough."

    A few minutes later, the Jedi wandered up the ramp of his ship, Memory Lane, and smiled at the BD unit resting at the top of the ramp. The droid eagerly leaped to its feet. It began to run circles around the kiffar as he wandered towards the ship's controls. It beeped a chain of quick, pointed chirps not unlike an excitable bird and jumped into the co-pilot's seat a split second before Corin took his seat.

    When the Jedi finished preparations for take-off but did not set the ship into motion, the droid whirred up at him, confused.

    "Well, Chief, we could just get rolling and say goodbye to Bastion for a while, but..." the Jedi shrugged. "I've got a feeling, that's all. I'll give it another ten or so minutes, and we can head out of here if it turns out this one was wrong. Sound good?"

    The droid nodded its little head.

    "Great."

     
  7. Kalja Tal'Vera

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    Kalja stood motionless, a few feet from her wayward Padawan. Her hand shook as she gripped the hilts of her sabers, her teeth remained clenched and eyes brimming with tears. ~Why have you done this?!~ She screamed through the Force, her wispy presence echoing through the mind of Tyra. She would disengage both lightsabers, slowly reaching behind her to return them from where they came. Her arms and hands moved slow enough as to acknowledge the severity of the situation, and any sudden movement might set someone off.

    She merely shook her head, and moved away from the Emperor and his guard. She climbed over debris, and to her Padawan, an outstretched hand would grasp her shoulder and bring her close. Arms would wrap about her form, and embrace her. She could feel something in the Force, a stir, perhaps a thought of escape. Kalja shook her head, whispering as she held her friend tight. "Please don't do this..."

    She reached out through the Force, touching the chaotic tendrils around Tyra, attempting to soothe them with her warmth. She pushed hard, moving the tendrils away from the bright essence that was Tyra. As she would soothe one, two more would appear, lashing harder and faster than the ones before. Acts of desperation by the Dark side that lingered within. Kalja would would immerse herself during their embrace, trying to calm the storm that was brewing through Tyra.

    She felt another flicker, and her eyes opened quickly.

    "Don't you dare..."

    Maxim Fel | Aella Fel | Nikitis Fel | Tyra Kadenze | Corin

     
    #47 Kalja Tal'Vera, Jul 9, 2021
    Last edited: Jul 11, 2021
  8. Maxim Fel

    Maxim Fel Imperator
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    [​IMG]
    Sabers clattered to the ground as the young blonde declared her surrender, conveniently neglecting to answer Maxim's demand for an answer. He could feel himself growing angrier, but he slammed on his internal brakes - forced himself to drown the anger back down and think clearly. He could force her to answer any questions he wanted once she and the Jedi from the wake were detained. The order to arrest them both was on his lips when suddenly the Jedi from the wake began to move. The blades of her sabers melted back into their hilts with a sharp snap, before they were returned to their place somewhere behind her back.

    Just as slowly as she had placed both weapons behind her back, the Jedi approached the youngling and caught her in a tight embrace. Desperation wafted from the older of the two, and for a moment it gave The Heir pause. He watched them for a moment, unable to make out what the older was whispering to the younger.

    "My Emperor?" the words sent a jolt of shock through Maxim and turned toward the Praetorian who'd made the mistake...no, not mistake, not truly. Maxim looked at the middle-aged knight, black hair hanging just above his eyes. To these men he was already Emperor, even if the final ceremonies had yet to be done.


    He had to act like one, for their sakes.

    "Jedi..." Maxim called out in an even, but commanding tone to Kalja Tal'Vera as he gestured for his men to start moving in, "...I don't know who you are, but if you honor your code, then you will come with us."

    Carefully, the twelve knights crept closer, closing their crescent into a circle with every step so that they might surround the Jedi, "you have my word that you will both be treated fairly while we get to the bottom of all this. Cooperate so that a fair justice can be dealt."


    As the group closed in, Maxim reached out with the force to the woman he'd seen at the wake - offering her a glimpse into himself so that she might see the truth in his words, "no one else has to die here. You and your friend will be taken somewhere safe."


    [​IMG]

    As Aella marched over to the Praetorian Trooper, the soldier would stiffen - less out of respect for who her family was and more out of a sudden instinct that his boot may have to stamp out unrest. The black bantha of the Fel family inquired as to what was happening, where her brother was, a whole slooth of related questions that he was not at liberty to answer. Shaking his head, the trooper looked Aella dead in the eyes from behind his mannequin like helmet.

    "There has been an incident in the city. The Heir and the Praetorian have it under control - relax, partake in some food. It'll be over quicker if you don't concern yourself with security matters." The trooper spoke sternly, but not in such a way to imply insult. "The Praetorian are the most skilled knights in The Imperium, they will-


    Suddenly the trooper was cut off as another praetorian approached him, "Six-eight...the guests...they are in danger aren't they?"

    The trooper Aella had been speaking to suddenly perked up, his attention diverting completely from the Fel daughter, "what in Corellian Hells are you talking about? What did you see?"

    "I-no it wasn't me there was...someone saw danger? I was talking to one of the guests and-

    It was impossible to see the expressions of the troopers, but Aella would feel the dawning of understanding as it came over the trooper she'd been speaking to. "You dumb piece of- gah!" the trooper's outer comms suddenly cut out as he switched to the internal channels, relaying the danger to the rest of the Praetorian. They'd worked alongside force users, been trained by them in some cases. Recognizing a mind trick on another was not a hard deduction for the men and women of the Praetorian Legion.

     
  9. Tyra Kadenze

    Tyra Kadenze Two-faced, like a coin
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    Kalja pulled the padawan into an embrace she did not expect. This Tyra felt a warm, soothing experience she had never felt before. It was weird, but comfortable. There were many ideas running through her head before, plans to deceive, misdirect, and escape, but they began to fade as Kalja's words reached her ears, and her aura calmed the storm that had brewed inside her.

    If there was going to be any escape, it wasn't going to be here. This round was entirely lost, and Tyra had now accepted it in its entirety. Though Kalja's aura was undeniably soothing, the girl gently pushed her master away, this version of her was not the touchy type.

    Tyra would speak, but not in her usual loud tone, "Yeah, yeah. I've surrendered, drag me over to the dungeon already."

    She distanced herself further from her master, and would settle at the mercy of the guards.

     
  10. Aella Fel

    Aella Fel Rotten
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    Despite their refusal to tell her anything of merit, she gained at least one useful piece of information from the brief interaction. There was only one person in the vicinity with the capability or need to create such a distraction using the Force, and it seemed that he'd found his way out. Leaving them to bicker among themselves, Aella crossed the room to where she'd seen her conversation partner disappear, sighing as she looked up into the vent. "Barron, if anyone asks, you didn't see anything. It's better that way." She gave him a smile in an attempt at reassurance before using the Force to assist her in entering the vent and escaping much the same way her companion had.

    The wind whipped her hair into her face, and she reached up to brush it back, peering down over the edge of the roof. Getting down wasn't necessarily an issue, as she'd been taught how to survive jumps from this height by the Imperial Knights, but it had been years since then. "This seemed a lot easier when I was a kid." Taking a breath, she drew on the Force properly for what was the first time in a long while, her eyes falling closed as she did her best to shut out all distractions and focus. There wasn't any room for error, as a fall from this height would kill her, but at this point she figured something had to go right.

    After what felt like seconds but was nearly five minutes in reality, she opened her eyes, kicking off her heels as she stepped to the edge. Before she could hesitate any more she took the leap, unable to stop herself from grinning at the exhilaration and the sudden lightness in her chest. It was easy to see why she'd loved this as a kid, even though times were so different now. As the ground grew closer she turned in the air, sending out a burst of the Force a few feet before making impact, cursing as it threw her off course. "Son of a--"

    There wasn't time to finish that thought before she had to course correct, another push off the ground giving her enough time to wrap herself in a cushion of the Force as she finally hit duracrete in a roll, willing her speed to slow until she finally came to a stop on her back. Breathing heavily, she pushed herself to her feet, looking back up to the roof before continuing to her destination, looking a bit worse for wear after an eventful landing.

    The metal of the ramp was cool on her bare feet as she entered the ship, meandering to the cockpit and leaning against the wall. "A piece of advice: next time you wanna make nice with someone, try not to come in all high and mighty. It'll do you some good." She waited for him to turn around, but regardless of whether he did, she would continue, "Got a favor to ask, princess."
     
  11. Corin

    Corin Nomad
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    It felt like a faint whistle carried across the wind.

    A burst of something metaphysical. Invisible to the mundane world, yet seen by those with a greater understanding of the ethereal. Like a stone dropped into a still pond, ripples spread throughout the Force. They washed over the Jedi Master as he waited patiently within his ship, eyes closed, silent.

    He felt her long before he saw her. An errant silhouette casting a long shadow over the empty horizon. A cold wind crept up alongside her, stifling the warmth brought about by the great blue Azure. Her control was lackluster at best, but Corin expected such. He could see it behind her bloodshot gaze. Drugs, alcohol, pain, loneliness. They left their mark on the woman and turned her into something inching closer and closer to rock bottom. But he could sense something else, too. The desire to fight. Inch by inch, she fought back against the inexorable pull into the depths.

    Soft steps up the length of his ship's ramp heralded her approach.

    "A piece of advice: next time you wanna make nice with someone, try not to come in all high and mighty. It'll do you some good."

    Corin smiled.

    "Is that what you think I was doing?" he asked. "I've been known to philosophize from time to time."

    He pushed himself to his feet and turned to face her.

    "Got a favor to ask, princess."

    His brow furrowed. "I might be able to spare a few minutes. Might not," he crossed his arms over his chest. "Depends on the nature of the favor."

     
  12. Aella Fel

    Aella Fel Rotten
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    It was difficult to stop from rolling her eyes at his first words, and so she didn't, crossing her arms in return. "Save it. Next time I want to get psychoanalyzed by a Jedi know-it-all I'll give you a call, yeah?" He could insist to the contrary all he wanted, but Aella had dealt with his type before and refused to put up with it if she had a choice. She wouldn't deny she had a problem - there wasn't a point - but she didn't want to listen to someone else tell her why she had it either.

    "I need to get to the Palace." It was a lofty request on a normal day, let alone with the quiet chaos that encompassed Ravelin just then. "Don't say shit, because I know you sensed it too. I've got no idea what happened, but I know my brothers are there, so that's where I need to be." For a favor she phrased it far more like an ultimatum, not because she was spoiled and used to getting her way but because she'd long since figured out how to get her way regardless, circumstance be damned.

    Without waiting for him to respond she moved around him to look outside and into the skies. TIEs circled overhead, alert for any imminent threats, something a ship taking off right now would look an awful lot like. "Just get me close enough so I can jump." She turned to face him. "Then you're gonna want to get the hell out before they bring in something bigger than a squad of TIEs." Pulling a stunt like this was something she could walk away from unscathed, legally speaking. He was another matter altogether. Everyone was already on edge before this had happened, and now they were almost looking for an excuse. He'd be lucky to get away as it was, let alone without lingering consequences.

    "So." She sat down, wincing as she began to feel the damage her semi-graceful landing had caused, filing it away as a problem for another time, whenever that happened to be. "What do you say? Not too tall of an order, really. And I'll owe you one, if that helps."
     
  13. Nikitis Fel

    Nikitis Fel The Illustrious High Moff
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    They had arrived at the palace, and while Maxim had rushed ahead he’d left Nikitis behind. In one hand the Chiss held a disruptor pistol, his other raised to his ear as he listened into the com chatter of the Praetorian guard and stormtroopers that were still arriving. Troopers moved forward taking up positions outside the palace, above in the skies surrounding the palace there was a shuttle on overwatch equipped with some of the finest marksman within the imperial military.

    This was all they could do to secure the scene without raising too much suspicion and even then any who were passing by would see it. Eyes looking to the entrance of the palace, Niktis’ crimson eyes narrowed. It had only been a few minutes since Maxim had entered but the Moff couldn’t stand to have let his brother go in alone. He was not in the right mental state. The death of their father had left Maxim stressed, emotional, volatile. Yet the words that Maxim had said before leaping from the shuttle echoed through Nikitis’ mind.

    All said before Maxim leapt from a still lowering shuttle proving just how vast the difference between his own abilities were and the chiss’. Without even meaning to, Maxim had said and confirmed Nikitis’ feelings on the force. How he couldn’t hold a candle in comparison to the other Fel children. How no matter his genius, his cunning, that he would never be able to outshine the force. Nikitis had at one time held doubts in continuing his experiments, this sealed the nail in the coffin. He would never again be the weakling of the family that needed to be protected.

    Taking steps towards the entrance the High moff found a soldier quickly striding up to him. “Sir we can not permit you to enter. We do not believe it is safe for you to enter Moff Fel.”

    “I care not about how safe it is. My brother is in there! Your Emperor is in there.”
    Nikitis said his tone even, yet his visage was anything but. Looming over the trooper, his crimson eyes boring into the helmeted figure. Nikitis took another step forward, stopping himself. The hand that held his disruptor shaking from how tight the grip had become. His knuckles darkening from the effort. The trooper spoke truth, and it hurt to admit it.

    “Carry on trooper.” Turning away, Nikitis moved a few steps back from the building to lean on the railing surrounding the palace. There was nothing to do for him to do but to wait, and to think about his next actions.

    Aella Fel | Maxim Fel | Corin | Kalja Tal'Vera | Tyra Kadenze
     
  14. Corin

    Corin Nomad
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    "Quite sure of yourself, aren't you?" Corin leaned back to rest against the chair. "Good trait to have, all things considered... but uh, what makes you so sure I can get you to the palace? Leaving Bastion is one thing. Bringing you to its heart is another entirely."

    Of course, he sensed it. Death wasn't a faint tickle in the Force. It was like a sudden and short-lived burst of could striking with the speed and intensity of a blizzard, only to vanish in the blink of an eye. A feeling like that was impossible to miss for an empath. Death always brought out the most powerful in one's emotions. The grief, loss, pain, anger... and worst of all, the acceptance. An inherent understanding that they stood at the precipice between life and death.

    His head tilted to the side, his gaze coming to rest on his co-pilot's seat where the BD unit now resided.

    "Look," Corin began while rubbing at his neck. "I don't do debt. Don't live on IOUs, either," he nodded towards a third seat within the cockpit and climbed back into his chair. Unlike the two before Aella, her seat wasn't raised nor within the glass cockpit itself. The over-the-shoulder view sat lower than the other seats, but it did provide her a clear view.

    "Consider this a freebie and just do yourself a favor instead, alright?" his fingers traced a panel beside him, tapping away quickly at a smooth screen. The engines whirred to life far behind Aella. Something creaked, and the cool metal beneath them began to tremble as Memory Lane slowly ascended from the landing pad. It hovered in the air for several seconds while Corin mulled over some point in the distance.

    "Make a decision for yourself and stick with it. It'll do a lot more for you than whatever back and forth you're trying to manage."

    He pulled back on the sticks, and the ship tilted upward.

    "Hang on."

    And everything burst into motion.

     
  15. Kalja Tal'Vera

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    Kalja mused over the statement, as she embraced her Padawan. ~His word. Last time I trusted the word of a man - well, wasn't exactly fun.~

    Kalja reacted to the intrusion, and the world around Maxim would shrink - and then abruptly expand into a star filled void. Before him, about three or four meters was Kalja, meditating. A white aura surrounded her form, flickering for a second before fading into the surrounding environment. Kalja would sigh, standing up slowly from the Force-induced meditative state. On the outside world, Maxim would appear frozen in his stance, he would appear fine, atleast physically.

    Where he was spiritually? Metaphysically?

    Somewhere completely different.

    When he breached the outer membrane of her ethereal being, and spoke with her directly through the Force - he triggered a defense mechanism that Kalja had mastered in her youth.

    In the moments they would have the ensuing conversation, only milliseconds would have passed in the real world.

    It would appear as if Maxim had a momentary hiccup, very discrete.

    But for now, in this plane of existence, he would be nearly powerless.

    "So, welcome to my domain - you'll find it not as comforting as your home - but, it'll do..." Kalja said confidently.

    The throne room had melted away before Maxim had a chance to understand what was happening...then he was gone, swept away into a world not his own.

    When the grand master spoke, Maxim would turn and bring his hand up to defend himself - only to find the weight of his saber had left his hand.

    "What...what is this?" Maxim's eyes drifted about the ethereal plane before landing back on the silver threads veiling the Jedi's face, "this is some kind of mind trick, isn't it? Why? You gain nothing from resisting like this."

    "This?" She would gesture around her slowly. "This is my...presence within the Force. When you took it upon yourself to touch my mind - you triggered a defense mechanism." Kalja shrugged softly and moved to a chair that seemed to materialize out of nowhere. She would gesture, and another chair would appear before her. Her hand would extend, inviting him over to take a seat.

    Maxim eyed the Jedi for a long moment, but knowing he could little else, accepted the offered seat. "Some defense, you must be quite the Jedi" Maxim said as he leaned his elbows into his knees and focused on the woman, his mind still teasing the boundaries of the cage he found himself in.

    Kalja smirked. "You do realize, I can feel you..." She shook her head softly and chuckled, sapphire eyes staring into his very essence. "It's adorable, I must say." She chuckled again, crossing her legs at the knees, bouncing her free leg gently against the other. "So, tell me - what do you have to offer for assurance?" She went straight for the pitch, she knew her Padawan was guilty - hands down, but she also didn't look innocent either given the circumstances. She also knew, it couldn't have come at a worse time. The Republic was pushed from the Core, due to the distrust and anti-Republic sentiment in the core.

    Maxim's brow rose and he felt a tinge of irritation ride up his spine at the patronizing tone, but at the same time he wasn't nearly as powerful as he thought it should have been. He stifled the domino of emotion he knew would come if he continued down the same line of thought, "Something about pretty little Jedi must distract me from the obvious." he said in flat tone, in equal parts compliment and insult.

    Leaning back, Maxim crossed his arms and studied the woman for a moment - gauging her disposition. "I'm the Crown Prince, The Imperium is not The Republic. My word here is law and if I say you will not be harmed then you won't be. There will be an investigation and when the truth is discovered justice dealt accordingly...until then you will remain here on Bastion. That is the only offer I am willing to or can make."

    Kalja laughed out right. It had been a long time since she had been called such a thing - atleast to her face. She held a finger up, waggling it back and forth. "You're not going to allow any Jedi to assist?"

    "And how can you imprison me? What if the Republic demands to deal with it internally?" Kalja said with some tone of frustration.

    "Why would I? What if this is a plot by the Jedi? For all we know your order did this to frame the Imperium." Maxim hadn't returned the laugh and his face was stoic, though his feeling betrayed a certain fear it was coupled with absolution. As fearful as he may be of the Jedi or Republic response to such a decision, he sure in it.

    "The only way to maintain the integrity of an investigation is to conduct it ourselves. If the Republic wants to deal with it, they can deal with it once we have finished with you." Maxim looked Kalja in the eye, "My father's mistake was giving too much to the rest of the galaxy and never demanding enough in return. I will cooperate with your order and your Jedi - but I will not bow to them. Right now I would be more concerned with how today ends than how the Imperium deals with politics."

    "Your father was a great man, as was his father before him. You seem to forget how old I am, your highness." She shrugged softly and turned away from him, adjusting her body within the confines of the chair. "I suppose this is my fault, Tyra wasn't ready..." She would shake her head and turn her gaze back to him. "We will respect your laws and surrender peacefully..."

    At last, Maxim broke a smile "I'm glad you see it my way, you will be treated well."

    Standing, Maxim offered a hand to the phantom, "You have my word."

    Kalja rose from her own chair, and took his extended hand within her own. "We'll see.."

    Thanks to Maxim Fel for the contributing conversation and actions of Maxim.


    Tyra Kadenze | Nikitis Fel | Corin | Aella Fel
     
  16. Maxim Fel

    Maxim Fel Imperator
    - - -

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    Airspace Above the Imperial Palace
    Praetorian TIE Interception Unit: Crown Royal Squadron
    Aella Fel Corin
    [​IMG]
    "All hands this is Throne Command, silence comms. I say again, silence comms - more to follow." the calm, flat tone of the Throne Command operator buzzed through Royal 1's helmet. All chatter across the battle net went quiet at the word silence, and Royal felt her heartbeat skip as the adrenaline dumped into her veins. Her fingers tightened around the stick of her TIE Hunter as she led her squadron into a gentle sweep across the orbit of the Imperial Palace, their engines beating the buildings below with their familiar scream.

    "Royal One, Royal One - Throne Command, sensors have an unknown zero on approach to palace airspace - bearing 0-180 of your current position, how copy?" Royal 1 turned her head towards the bulkhead, the cockpit of her fighter fading away as her HUD replaced it with the images being fed to it by the exterior cameras. The skies were clear around the palace for miles - most of it grounded for the funeral and the rest after the Palace breach. Yet, far into the horizon, a blue triangle - itself centered in a red square - flashed across her HUD. Something was in the air and her shipboard sensors could pick it up.


    "Copy is good, Throne Command. I have your zero on sensors, should we move to engage?" the tie squadron continued their gentle orbit around the palace as Royal 1 readied her hand to switch to squadron comms,

    "Affirmative Royal One, approach the vessel and issue visual commands to change course and ground. If they fail to comply, assume hostile and engage, how copy?"


    "Copy Throne Command, approaching zero to issue visual commands - assuming hostile if they fail to comply, over"


    "Be advised, Royal One, if the vessel enters the palace perimeter ground emplacements will open fire - whether or not you are in range" always good to know when your life was forfeit, but for The Praetorian it was par for the course

    "Copy Throne Command" Royal One tuned to the Squadron channel after Throne Command confirmed that the transmission was out and took a deep breath as her heart started pumping harder against her chest, "heads up, Royal, looks like Command wants us to roll out the mat for some new guests"

    The squadron jeered and prodded as Royal One took a quick glance to the palace. Command hadn't been joking - the bristling barrels of turbo turrets, laser canons and flak guns started slowly shifting in the direction of the approaching vessel...she just wanted to make sure her squadron didn't get caught in the metal grinder if it came down to it. Turning back to the incoming zero, Royal 1 pinged the ship for the rest of her squad - "that zero at 40-180, it isn't supposed to be in the sky, we are going to fly-by and hail them. Command wants it splashed if it doesn't listen - but if it powers up weapons, slag it. Don't care if we've hailed it or not."

    The squadron whipped across their orbit and their engines flared to life, their gold and black frames becoming blurs in the sky as they pressed their hulls to the limit. In moments, six hunters would be upon Corin's vessel - screaming by in close formation before whipping in tight circles and assuming a loose formation around the ship. Two hunters on either side of the cockpit tilted their wings in either direction, signaling the vessel to divert coarse while Royal One attempted to hail -

    "Unknown vessel, you are ordered to immediately divert your course and ground your ship. Fail to comply, and you will be fired upon," the message would be repeated as long as there was no answer...but only for a time.

    [​IMG]
    Inside the Imperial Palace
    Throne Room
    All at once, the world came back to Maxim - the void of Kalja Tal'Vera 's mind melting away into streaks of color that became the throne room, the corpse of the Chief of State, his praetorian and the two Jedi standing in the center of it all. It was if nothing at all had happened, as if the conversation with the Grand Master had been nothing more than a fleeting dream. Maxim gulped and Axius turned, finally sensing that something was amiss with his Emperor.

    "My liege?"

    Maxim shook off the question and locked eyes with Kalja for a brief moment...then he spoke, "I'm fine, take them into custody. Bring them to the holding cells" the Praetorian commander raised an eyebrow, "the elder Jedi won't resist, but watch her padawaan."

    With that, Maxim approached the two, deactivating the elaborate saber in his hand and clipping it to his belt. The Praetorian, shocked at the sudden change, sprung to follow - closing in on the two as their Emperor came within arms reach of the two Jedi. Maxim passed by Tyra Kadenze without so much a glance, while Axius came directly to face with her, alongside three other Praetorian.

    "Turn around and place your hands on your head, Jedi" Axius ordered as Maxim and the rest of the Praetorian crowded around Kalja.

    "You and I" Maxim began as one of the praetorian stepped forward with a set of binders, "have a great many things to discuss."
     
    #56 Maxim Fel, Jul 17, 2021
    Last edited: Jul 18, 2021
  17. Aella Fel

    Aella Fel Rotten
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    "Well, I figured if anyone could it'd be the Jedi who talks too much. I could steal a speeder instead, but something tells me you'd rather risk it than have me do that." The unspoken challenge proved correct as he acquiesced, returning to the pilot's seat in front of her own chair. Aella had a feeling he'd agree besides, if just because she was doing what could be considered the right thing - or at least, doing a bad thing for the right reasons. Not that she'd ever tell him that, but the night had proven he would make his own assumptions regardless.

    For once she didn't have a response to his last words, the only indication she'd heard them a moment of eye contact that lasted a beat longer than standard. He was right and they both knew it. It was a prospect she had been struggling with ever since setting foot on Bastion, and there had been no time to come up with the right answer between first the funeral, and now whatever mess this was becoming. Maybe one would come later, when there was time. But that wouldn't be for a long while - at least until the legal predicament she was about to cause was resolved.

    There was no more time to talk as the ship lurched into the sky, speeding off towards the Palace. Leaning forward, she watched steadily through the glass dome of the cockpit, tracking the horizon for what she knew was coming. As much as things had changed much had stayed the same, including the point defense systems that would be greeting them sooner than later. She had only seem them active only a scarce few times in her life, but never aimed at her. There was, as it went, a first time for everything, including getting barraged with AA fire.

    Aella cursed quietly as she heard the familiar scream of TIE fighters closing in, catching a glimpse of them as they closed in around the ship and hailed them. "You've got about two minutes before they start shooting, and I'd suggest getting as far away as possible before that starts." She glanced at him before looking again to the Palace in the distance, keeping a close eye on their approach for one very good reason. "You've got about five minutes before we cross the perimeter and the real shooting starts. There should be a landing pad before we hit the Palace, just drop me there. And try not to get shot down on your way out." For as tense as her tone was, she still managed that same slightly crooked smile he'd seen earlier. "I'd hate to miss out on any future lectures."
     
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  18. Kalja Tal'Vera

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    Kalja sighed softly, looking to her Padawan as she was led away. She gently placed her sabers at her feet, nudging them away with her boot. She raised her hands, shifting her arm to pull the fabric away from her elbows as she interlocked her hands behind her head. She would turn slowly, sensing the rising tension through the Force and stare upon the durasteel wall before her. She could feel the cold steel of the binders, the gentle jolt intended to ensure compliance and that if she decided to get frisky - she would get quite a wake up. Kalja said nothing as her arms were lowered behind her, her body turned to face the darkened stare of Maxim and the jolt forward as the was marched out the broken doors to the Throne Room.

    They indeed had alot to discuss...

    Maxim Fel | Tyra Kadenze | Nikitis Fel
     
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