Nabbed (Makiro)

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((*blows the dust off of Sihara and cracks knuckles* okay…let’s see if I’ve lost my touch with her or not >_> ))

This was one time she wished she’d kept her lightsaber. Certainly Sihara was more than capable in melee weapons use and hand to hand combat…even a bit on ranged weapons…but a lightsaber was small, compact and easy to miss if a person wasn’t expecting to find one. Dressed as she was certainly no one would be expecting her to be carrying one. The long russet and tan dress that she wore belied her training in nearly every way. Long, graceful, steps carried her along with the senator in a swirl of cloth and the tinkle of metal and shells from her belt and headdress. Only the darkened scar on her rusty colored chest gave any indication that she had seen combat of any form, and even that scar was unlike anything that most would have ever seen…none save, perhaps, another force user.

From the time she’d met the man, Sihara had never once dawned anything even remotely resembling the traditional jedi robes…or even her own leather armor. He had expected to be kidnapped and so she didn’t wish to raise alarms to any would be kidnappers. If she stood out, they would simply bide their time and return when she had been dismissed. That was why, even now as the small group made their way from the private landing pad and into the senator’s home, Sihara remained in nothing but civilian clothing. Beneath the folds of that dress, however, were boots with daggers tucked away within them and her low-slung cargo belt that added only a little more curve to her hips than normal. As the doors slid open to the senator’s home, those senses were already pushing out from her in a wave that swept through everything within her considerable reach. Luckily, the force was quiet today and she relaxed ever so slightly, nodding to the senator with a slight smile.

I don’t feel any need to be concerned, Senator…all is quiet here for the moment, but I wouldn’t discount anything just yet.

Those black and white lekku curled slightly at the ends as she felt the echoes of movement within the estate drawing closer. Again those muscles tensed slightly beneath her outward appearance of utter calm. The brunt of those senses bore down on those approaching and thoughts of getting the senator settled in and fed filtered back toward her. Estate staff no doubt. As the two people rounded the corner with words of greeting, the sleek form of Sihara melted into the background of their consciousness at her will as she pressed their focus onto their employer and those guards attending him. She would follow silently wherever they led the Senator, a face among the small crowd, and then a simple shadow as the guards peeled off to check the rest of the house and alert the other guards of the senator’s arrival.

[Makiro]

((OOC: You don't have to read the family histoy bit >< I just included that as it seemed to be the sort of thing a noble would talk about ^^ Also, what would you say to Captain Taara - read on to find more - being behind the kidnapping?))

Sandarya, the Escara family's Summer retreat, was a vision of beauty. Pale golden walls curved elegantly amongst verdant gardens, overflowing with delicate, fragrant flowers; flocks of birds swept gracefully around beautiful turrets and towers which rose majestically amidst the verdant foliage, crowned with resplendent, verdigris roofs; the very air itself was perfumed with a myriad delicate scents, which spoke of long summer evenings spent strolling amongst perfectly manicured hedges and lawns, or relaxing by the glittering, placid lake, stained pink in the dying sunlight.

Senator Sarala breathed a sigh of relief as the anonymous speeder, in which they had travelled from Kwilaan Spaceport, drew towards the front door of the familiar sprawl of his home. Ever since he and Princess Sali of Onderon – Queen Sali now, he reminded himself – had been kidnapped from her homeworld over eight years ago, he had suffered from excessive paranoia – never letting anyone get too close, lest they betray his trust. Although Naboo was only an emerging world on the Galactic scene – a barely organised rabble of nomads, interspersed with a few perpetually squabbling city states and held together by a tenuous political union headed by the High King, Avirod’s father – there were still many reasons for which a prospective kidnapper might take an interest in the young Senator – not the least of these being credits.

As Avi climbed out of the sleek speeder and stepped across the threshold into the comfort of his childhood home, he breathed in the familiar smell: a heady melange of flowers and fresh air, which wouldn’t have been dissimilar to the smell of the gardens, had it not been permeated by an undercurrent of wine, and pears and people.

Looking around the circular entrance hall Avi smiled as he took in the tall rounded windows, the fluttering silk curtains, the elegantly carved furniture. He was home. He was safe.

I don’t feel any need to be concerned, Senator…all is quiet here for the moment, but I wouldn’t discount anything just yet. Said his Togruta bodyguard, her elegantly patterned lekku twitching in the way to which he had become so accustomed during their short time together.

Avi smiled at her. Not enough to be considered vulgar or overbearing, of course, but just enough to let her know that he appreciated her words. Despite the fact that the time they had spent together had been relatively short, he felt somehow connected to her in a way he could not quite fathom.

Two servants, arrayed in the yellow and turquoise livery of the Escara family, entered the room and greeted the new arrivals.

Good evening. Said Avi, I intend to give my new bodyguard a tour of the house myself, so please ensure that we are able to dine in an hour. Could you please also arrange for a meeting between Sihara and the security staff.

The servants nodded and left the hallway, heading off to their respective errands.

I do apologise for such formalities, but with my head of security, Captain Taara, in Keren acting as a decoy, it has been necessary to send the majority of my staff with her, to keep up the façade. Obviously that means that we have a limited number of guards and servants here, and so it’s absolutely necessary that you and they are in complete cooperation as regards my security. But for now I shall show you the house.

Leading his new bodyguard through the sumptuously decorated hallways of his home, Avirod chatted amiably about the history of the building.

Sandarya was built by my ancestor, Rhys Escara, whose father, Rori Escara came to Naboo over three hundred years ago on the refugee ship Mother Vima. Rori Escara, incidentally, was related to Queen Tasia of Grizmallt, did you know? And it has been suggested that he was the inspiration behind the name of our moon of the same name.

Of course, Rhys and his family initially lived on the plains, where all of our ancestors originally resided as nomadic wanderers. His son, however, was on of the many early Nabooans who advocated a return to a far more structured civilisation, and so founded House Escara as one of the leading political powers of the early City States. When his family settled down, Rhys had a house built in Keren where his family had establised their rule, as well as here. My family prefer the house in Keren, but I find the lake country relaxing - which of course is a nice change from Coruscant - and so I spend most of my time on Naboo here. Although I am, of course, officially in Keren at this time. As is my yacht!

Of course, initially the City States fought against one another constantly. This is the library, by the way. As you can see it has an unparalleled view of the lake. Feel free to read any of the books or holos kept in here. But eventually it was suggested that some sort of political union be established, and one of the State Princes was elected as “High King”.

I’m rather afraid… oh, this is the drawing room… that this union is still highly volatile, and it is feared that we will see a return to pre-monarchy City States within the next few centuries. But we shall see. This is the dining room, by the way. Being a merchant family, the Escara's were highly influential and the Escara Princes quickly grew in both popularity and power. My father is the third Escara to be elected in as Monarch.

Do tell me if I am boring you.

After showing Sihara around the bottom floor of the house, and directing her to the entrance to the kitches and servants rooms, Avirod led her up a sweeping staircase and showed her to her room. The floor was covered with a soft green carpet, and the tall windows – which had been left open by one of the servants – were curtained with delicate green silk. Apart from the corners, where ornate red and blue marble columns supported the beautifully carved ceiling, the walls had been left bare, the golden stone showing not a speck of dust.

This door here leads to my room. And this one leads to your private bathroom. I hope you will be comfortable here. A servant will fetch you for dinner, after which you may hold a meeting with the staff.

So saying Avirod went through the door to his own room. Shutting the door behind him he sighed heavily. Hiding was a hard business.

Still, at least he was safe.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((I have to say, you always do come up with the most interesting posts, Makiro. Lol, this one made me giggle in so many ways, and i'm fine with her being it, but let's have her believing the cover story rather than knowing what she really is, or the whole thing is kinda bust. doubt she'd try anything with sihara around if she knew >_>))

A sigh was withheld as he introduced her as his new bodyguard to his servants. Well, she could just reach in and extract that informa…no…no she wasn’t going to sink that far, but…what if one of them leaked her identity to whomever might want to take the young senator hostage? Could she really afford to allow them to possibly spread the her affiliation to the senator to someone who might wish him harm? Just because they meant well, didn’t mean that they couldn’t do harm on accident. She nodded slightly to his apology and explanation before folding her hands into the belled sleeves of her dress much as she had with her former robes.

I quite understand, Senator, but I need to remind you that I am NOT your bodyguard…not to anyone you may speak to, at least. I still believe there may be an attempt to take you hostage, and even if you trust your staff completely, I do not. They may not wish you harm, but should their mouths speak before their minds catch up it could prove harmful to you. I warned you of this when I returned your request and then introduced myself to your Captain Taara and security as a visiting diplomat from Shili.

She paused a moment and offered him a small, but kind, smile of reassurance.

I understand this will take getting used to, Senator, but believe me…it’s in your best interest for as few people to know my true reasons for being her as possible. I just wish that now I didn’t have to have a talk to those two servants…ah well…not to worry.

She held out a slender hand, motioning for him to lead the way. As he walked her through the lavish estate and chatted about the history of the place and his family, hazel eyes flickered about memorizing the layout as best she could and noting possible danger zones. There certainly were a number of places that would cast deep shadows in the night and be prime hiding places for any “uninvited guests.” Despite the majority of her attention being on the estate’s layout, the “typical” reverberations that the walls and furnishings created as they walked by to get a good sense of what the place felt like through her montral when it was calm and there were few around for later reference, and the general atmosphere of the area through the force, the togruta nodded, made typical ‘listening’ noises, and occasionally chuckled or commented when it seemed appropriate as she also (vaguely) absorbed some of the information he was giving her.

Well, Senator, change is never easy, as I am re-learning myself. That seems especially true with politics. That is one reason why I tend to shy away from getting entangled in it, and I applaud those who can do so and still attempt to keep their morals and wits about them rather than bending to popular opinion or “peer pressure” at every turn. I have faith that Naboo will settle its differences eventually…though it may not be an easy road.

As they strolled up an elegant stairway, Sihara finally managed to pay some attention to the surroundings. How did anyone get used to living in places like this? Certainly it was beautiful but…wouldn’t this kind of wealth be of better use helping those who needed it? She just felt so out of place in all of this wealth and luxury! As he showed her to her room and then vanished into his own, she sighed and stepped inside and gazed about at the lush furnishings, which only earned a heavier sigh. Give her a hut and tall rustling grasses and trees any day. Well, since she was here she may as well take advantage of the situation at the moment. Unpacking a few items, she lay them out on the bed and went to investigate the bath and shower more closely than her initial glances. Like the time she’d been in Xander’s shower, she completely enjoyed the time she got to soak her muscles and the scented soaps and bath salts that seemed to be a staple for those who led these kinds of lives.

An hour, a long bath, and one fluffy towel later, the turu-grass marked woman had re-dressed herself in a simple and sleek dress of flowing material the color of candlelight. Her togruta sash hung simply around her trim waist, a simple choker of dried turu-grass and shells from Shili tied about her throat and the elegant headdress she had created over the years crowning her head. The small straps that held the dress up and criss-crossed along the back of the dress were barely the width of two fingers leaving much of her shoulders, back and upper chest (modestly) exposed. Certainly it fit the pleasant atmosphere of both Shili and Naboo, but left her quite aware of the scar along her back and the blackened one on her chest. Despite this inner uncomfortability, Sihara seemed the most serene being in the world as she made her way down the stairs and to the dining room, meeting one of the servants from before on the steps.

“Oh, Miss Sihara, I was just coming to fetch you!”

Yes, I'm sure…I do have rather good timing, yes? I actually wanted to speak to you and the other one I met before when we first arrived. Do you think there is time for that before the evening meal?

She smiled and sent forth a wave of reassurance as the young woman seemed to waver nervously. As she calmed once more, Sihara smiled more brightly and rested a hand on the girl’s shoulder, squeezing it lightly.

“Well…”

I promise you, it won’t take but a moment.

“If you’re sure…”

A dip of those gracefully curved montral and she followed the younger woman down toward the kitchens. Several minutes later she had the two in a small side room alone and sighed slightly, gazing at the two of them. It didn’t take long for her to explain to gently probe their minds for any possible deception and, once she was certain that they were not affiliated with the potential kidnappers, she explained to them exactly why she needed them to not breathe a word to anyone about who she really was to the senator and what her cover was. It also didn’t take long for her to impress upon them how important it was, especially for them, that they didn’t disobey her instructions as far as revealing her cover to others. This wasn’t to say she was unkind toward them, or that she made open threats to them, but it was quite obvious that she was very serious about the whole business and that if they were the ones to cause her charge to come to harm they wouldn’t be happy with the outcome. With that done, she let them go about their business and found her way to the dining room where she felt her employer’s presence. Entering, she bowed slightly and smiled before walking closer to him.

Forgive my tardiness, Senator, I don’t mean to be rude but I needed to have a talk with the two servants from earlier. Luckily they were quite understanding about the situation and everything is smoothed out.

Another kind smile and she slid one hand along her montral to ease its humming into her mind and gazed about the room a moment before looking back at him.

I didn’t really get a chance to tell you earlier, but this truly is a beautiful estate.

[Makiro]

((^ ^ Thanks - assuming the word “interesting” wasn’t meant sarcastically, of course And yeah, I think she probably should believe the cover story… I never thought of that >.<))

Avirod was slightly taken aback as Sihara entered the room. He had known she was an attractive female – most Togruta were – but this change of clothes certainly flattered her. Gathering his thoughts, he rose respectfully from his seat and nodded in reply to Sihara’s bow.

, Sihara. I am sure it was a most pressing affair.

I didn’t really get a chance to tell you earlier, but this truly is a beautiful estate.

Why thank you. As I said earlier my parents and… well, my parents much prefer our home in Keren, but I find the city to be a little overbearing. I always have done. Please, be seated.

A servant stepped out from an alcove at the side of the room and pulled a seat away from the table, allowing Sihara to sit down. Avirod motioned to the servant to leave the room.

I do apologise for my faux pas earlier on, Sihara. I’m rather afraid the necessity for secrecy in this matter had completely slipped my mind. It’s a wonder I’ve survived thus far in politics!

The servant re-entered the room and placed steaming hot bowls of golden soup in front of both diners. A second servant entered after him bearing a dusty bottle of ruby-coloured wine. After Avirod had tasted a little, he turned to Sihara.

I hope you will forgive my presumption, but I rather think this wine is best for what chef has prepared this evening. However, here at Sandarya we have an extensive wine cellar, as well as a wide range of fruit juices, if they are more to your taste. Or, of course, you could have water.

The servant waited for the Togruta’s response and then left, bowing respectfully. Sihara and Avirod were now alone. Avirod took a mouthful of soup.

There was silence.

He coughed.

He took another mouthful of soup. Blast it! What did one talk about with ones bodyguard?

Is this your first visit to Naboo? He asked at last.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

She nodded to both Avirod and the servant that appeared, brushing through the man’s thoughts inconspicuously as she sat down. Those long lekku twitched slightly, curling at the ends as she listened to his apology. A tranquil smile brushed itself along her lips and softened her features further as she shook her head and held up a hand.

It’s understandable, Senator. You might be surprised at just how many of those in some form of power don’t truly practice the concept of secrecy when it counts. Too many use it to further their own ends and not enough to keep themselves safe. I have had to use it many times in both fashions, so I find it more easily accomplished with less, conscious, thought. Consider yourself lucky that secrecy is not your way of life, nor the only way you continue to survive.

As the soup was brought out those predatory senses caught the familiar smell of it and she sighed slightly, gathering control over her emotions. It was an unfortunate reminder of what she had left behind when she left the temple. For half a heartbeat something akin to sadness or regret could be seen on her features only to vanish again as she stilled and listened to him speak, one hand stroking along the end of her lekku subconsciously. There is no emotion…there is peace…

I will try some of your wine, of course.

There is no ignorance…there is knowledge.

But if I may also have a glass of water, it would be appreciated.

The drink was poured and a water glass brought over. As the two began to eat, the senator seemed uncomfortable with the silence between them. Sihara, placid as ever on the outside, remained quiet and savored the soup with bittersweet recognition. Yes, it did have a spicy smell, and yes, there were a few strange-looking lumps in it, but over all the golden liquid tasted good. A small smiled formed on her face for a moment as she remembered the boy downing the same stuff like he hadn’t eaten for a week and then continuing on with some of her offered plate. With a tiny sigh, she shook her head and took another bite.

There is no passion…there is serenity.

“Is this your first visit to Naboo?”

Golden green eyes looked up at him from her food and she nodded once, slightly, those montral dipping and making the small gesture seem much larger than it truly was.

Yes. I have heard much about it, but never in my work have I had the reason to come here. From what I have seen thus far it is as lush as stories and documents state. You said earlier that you are not one for cities, though. I cannot imagine any city on this planet to be as tightly packed or hurried feeling as Coruscant. Certainly the country is more appealing, but I should think that after a stint on that city planet you would welcome any city here.

[Makiro]

Avirod smiled graciously at Sihara.

It is certainly true that, after the hustle and bustle that is Coruscant, even Keren seems the epitome of peace to the outsider. You must remember, however, that the people of Naboo are, for the most part, farmers, herders and fishermen. We have no major settlements to speak of – save Keren and Dee’ja Peak – and so, to us at least, even those few gatherings of civilisation seem crowded and noisy, especially when compared to the tranquillity of the Plains or the Lakes.

I, for one, was brought up in Dee’ja Peak from the age of about six. It wasn’t our home country, but my father wanted me to receive the best political education possible, and my sister had an arranged…

Avirod fell silent, his face grave. He never mentioned his sister. In fact, this was the first time he had actually spoken the words “my sister” in almost a decade. What was he going to do?

He made a decision.

What I am about to tell you has been kept secret for nigh on ten years. It is a sad truth that it has to be thus, but I can risk neither my duty to Naboo nor to my father. I believe I can trust you, however, and I suppose that any information you discover about my family may prove invaluable at a later date.

I have a sister: Essa. It was arranged that she would be married to the son of the Prince of Dee’ja Peak, that my father and the Prince might form a political union. It all went wrong, however, when she initiated an affair with an impoverished teacher. Ruwee something, I think his name was. Of course, my father disowned her and she moved to Theed.

She had a child – a young boy – but he was taken to Coruscant, to become a Jedi. I don’t think my father even knew that, you know? I supported them as far as I could, of course, but in the end they decided to move to Chandrila with their two remaining children. I think they both became teachers there in the end.

I do apologise, Sihara. It is not a pleasant matter to discuss, and I fear…

That was the moment all Chaos chose to break loose.

Blaster fire erupted from the direction of the Entrance Hall, and Avirod jumped to his feet. He looked imploringly at Sihara.

What do we do?

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((I uh...just kinda ran with it....>_>...so...yeah.))

Sihara listened silently, only half of her mind on the conversation. Her emotions were pulling her thoughts in the direction of two others…two still with the Order…one whom she’d severely let down…had betrayed. She would never forgive herself for it…of all the things she’d done, that was another thing she would never forgive herself for. The last bit of her mind was shouting at her that the time was nearing…that the kidnappers were coming at last. The bait had been set and they were ready to bite, to spring the trap upon themselves.

“She had a child – a young boy – but he was taken to Coruscant, to become a jedi. I don’t think my father even knew that, you know? I supported them as far as I could, of course, but in the end they…”

Her mind stopped, suddenly, like a speeder slamming against a wall at the end of a crash test. It was a painful thought that had just sent her mind reeling so, triggered by his words and further fueled by the force. She had been about to ask if he knew the boy’s name when, as if on cue, the sound of blaster fire echoed down the front hall, sending her montral thrumming with extra sensation. Calmly she stood and paced toward the only door to the room (aside from the one to the outside patio), and stopped just out of sight of the hall outside.

Stay with me, unless I tell you otherwise. Remember our cover story, Senator, no matter what happens. I will do what I can but it feels and sounds like there are quite a few of them. For now, stay behind me and find some cover.

She’d barely finished her words when the first of the kidnappers poked his head around the wall to see if it was clear or not. All he found was the senator in question and a very calm looking Togruta standing in the middle of the open space just inside the room. Seeing as the two were unarmed, he stepped forward and waved a few of his companions in behind him, and Sihara simply held up a hand and shook her head.

I wouldn’t rrecommend you trry anything foolish. This is yourr only warrning.

The men stopped, hearing the lightly trilled words, that thoroughly torgruti accent, and looked at her as if she were an idiot. A few of them chuckled or shook their heads, grinning.

“That so? And who’re you to give us a warning? We got the weapons, you don’t, you’re nothing but a diplomat by the looks of you…what’re you gonna do? Bite us with your poisoned fangs?”

Those montral may not have been moving visibly, nor making any sound they could hear, but she knew they were vibrating, humming brightly into her mind and gave her a clearer picture of just what was moving around her. This, bolstered by her considerable senses in the force, gave her a distinct upper hand over her assailants…too bad for them they wouldn’t ever realize this…not until the trap was fully sprung.

Appearances can be deceiving, gentlemen, but do not underestimate me…on my planet even simple diplomats are not strangers to fighting.

It was no lie…not one thing she had said had been a lie, they had done the lying for her, she had simply warned them and corrected their thinking. Another, louder, round of laughter, and she could feel that the Senator had moved to a position further behind her. It was a good thing since they had decided to attack. The first twitch of muscle and she was moving. It wasn’t anything spectacular, not even a burst of force speed to aid her, and she was already within range of the first attacker, taking his weapon from him in one swift motion. A single thought as she turned it in her hands to come to bear on them and the setting had been switched imperceptibly to stun just before she shot the one in front of her in the legs. The others opened fire as one of the ones in the back spoke over his com-link before shouting for them to attempt to capture them both. Good…everything was working out as she’d hoped. The rounds of blaster fire shifted to stun rounds and she grinned slightly, flashing them a good view of those sharp incisors that they so falsely believed were poisonous.

Idiots.

She moved into them, sweeping through the blaster fire even as a few of those numbing bolts grazed against her arms or legs. They weren’t hit full on, so she could still move, still function…thank the force for saber training. One by one she would stun them slightly just to move through their guard and lay them flat, tossing away their weapons as she did so. Sending one of them in the direction of the Senator so that he might help himself should anyone get past her…but they wouldn’t get past her, not until she wanted them to. The swirl of fabric and the exotic coloring of her skin seemed to flow easily through her assailants, an almost ethereal calmness to her motions. As they attempted to attack her physically once she got too close for them to comfortably use their blasters, she simply seemed to turn their energy against them, forcing them to continue further through their strikes than they had intended and overbalance themselves before being sent crashing to the floor. A swift, demobilizing, blow or two and she was off to the next target.

It wasn’t until a new set of their companions had been called that she decided it was time to let the final rope snap and the trap close completely. She’d seen the man calling for their backup, but hadn’t turned her face or motioned that she had, and so, upon feeling the others arriving, she’d nearly completely turned her back to the door in the process of taking down one of the last two kidnappers in the room (there had been only four, not counting the one who’d called for backup). She’d turned back to face the new onslaught, but not before a wave of new stun bolts had been fired and the first of them had slammed against her, rocking her with that numbing pain. As the rest hit, she staggered back and attempted to keep herself up, hissing at them angrily and showing them a more feral side of her people, those incisors becoming the fangs of some wounded and cornered beast.

Go, Senator! Run!

A few more stun bolts to the legs and she attempted to get at them anyway before she was caught and knocked out with a heavy elbow to the side of her head. She knew they would catch him…she hoped they wouldn’t, but she knew they would.

[Makiro]

This was inconceivable! No one had known that Avirod was in Sandarya save Captain Taara and his staff. He trusted Captain Taara with his life, and he was sure he could trust his specially selected staff – for Shiraya’s sake, any staff who he and Taara had considered even slightly untrustworthy had been granted leave!

Then again, there was always the possibility that it had been Avirod himself who had divulged some sort of sensitive information. He had, after all, given away Sihara’s identity as his bodyguard.

Too distracted to properly focus on Sihara’s words, he was snapped out of his reverie by the appearance of a rough-looking face at the door. He knew instantly that this was not one of his servants. The man wore the shabby clothes of a spacer, and carried a large, angry-looking blaster pistol.

He barely registered the exchange of words between his bodyguard and the assailant, focussing instead on locating some means of egress from the dining room. Seeing the patio door behind him, he edged slowly away from Sihara, trying not to be noticed by the attackers. He knew at once, however, that he would not get far without being shot at.

Suddenly a fire fight broke out, and Avirod knew this was his chance to escape. He found, however, that he was quite unable to move. As horrific memories came flooding back to him – memories of a diplomatic mission to Onderon almost a decade ago – he found himself paralysed with fear, thinking of nothing but his imminent capture, torture and death. He realised he was sweating profusely. The cold sweat of sheer terror.

Barely registering Sihara tossing a blaster in his direction, he snatched it out of the air. Feeling its weight in his hand made him feel instantly more confident, and he once more began to consider escape. But when?

Go, Senator! Run!

Apparently now.

Turning on his heel Avirod hitched up his robe with one hand and dashed towards the patio doors. Luckily they had not been closed, merely pushed to, and they swung outwards as he extended his blaster arm towards them.

Out on the sweeping veranda, he noticed that the sun was just setting, framed on the far side of the lake by two verdant mountains. The placid lake acted almost as a mirror, and to Avirod it seemed that a second sun was rising from the murky depths of the lake to meet its sister. It would have been beautiful, had the Senator not spotted a trio of armed assailants sprinting towards him from the bottom of the sloping lawn, levelling what seemed to be vicious blaster rifles directly at him.

Wasting no time, Avi ducked to the side and ran along the veranda, taking care not to trip over any of the tastefully arranged pot plants or sculptures – Chaos take whatever artiste had designed this veritable minefield of good taste!

Coming to an ornate balustrade, the Senator peered over and was dismayed to see a high drop into a large ornamental pond. He turned round, and was equally dismayed to see the trio of armed guards – now accompanied by a good deal of their compatriots – running towards him along the veranda. He closed his eyes and began to hum the tune of “All Stars Burn As One”, the Republic’s Galactic Anthem. Drawing strength from the familiar melody, he climbed up onto the balustrade and prepared to throw himself over.

Unfortunately, guessing what he was about to do, one of the guards raised his rifle and fired. The blazing bolt – fortunately only set to stun – impacted with the Senator’s velvet-clad back. He crumpled and fell, face-forward, into the pond below. A startled duck, which had only just settled down for the night, flew off into the darkling sky, hooting irritably.

Pushee wumpah skocha-kloonkee! Watch out, exhaust-for-brains! Cried one of the attackers to the one who had fired the shot.

Two of the attackers vaulted the balustrade and dove into the icy water of the pond. Grabbing the sodden Senator under the arms, they hauled him out of the water and laid him on the grass.

It was the work of moments to drag the Senator to a waiting speeder at the front of the villa and haul him into the back seat. Two of the kidnappers climbed into the front seat and another sat himself next to the unconscious Senator. Then, withdrawing from the villa, the remaining kidnappers climbed into several other speeders and they were off, speeding out of the drive and onto the winding road beyond.

The sun finally sank behind the surrounding mountains and a velvety darkness washed over the land.

Their mission was almost complete.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

They’d gotten both targets…the Senator and this newest addition, the togruta (after all, two diplomats were better than one, especially when it came to getting money). Having hauled both of them outside and into the back of the speeders, the two unremarkable vehicles sped away into the verdant lands of Naboo. It wouldn’t be until later, when the cold metal of the floor pressed against her skin that the togruta woman would wake with an aching head. For a moment she lay there, taking in her surroundings with closed eyes, allowing her senses to flow outward into the gloom of the building, brushing against the various consciousnesses of those within, sifting through the rooms and corridors, the ceiling, the…ground? Those hazel eyes opened and blinked up at the duracrete ceiling. Well…at least she knew they were below ground, and past that it almost felt as if there was a bustle of life. Could this be in one of the larger towns?

Pushing herself up so that she was sitting, she gazed around the cell she had been put into and caught sight of the Senator. It was unfortunate that he had been caught, but at least now she could fully protect him and could keep an eye on him. A force-field barred the door, but it wasn’t anything she couldn’t work through, work around. With a quiet huff of air, she stood and stroked one hand along her lekku and montral to calm and soothe the harassed appendages. It was a shame Theron wasn’t around…that little trick of his for soothing them would have been much appreciated at the moment. Ah well…do for yourself what others can’t do for you. Pressing a hand to the tender bruise forming along her forehead, she allowed a flow of healing energy to flow into the damaged and swollen skin, mending it and ridding herself of the pain. Turning, she headed to the Senator and knelt down beside him, searching him for any serious damage first.

He was…wet…but other than that he seemed not to have been injured more than a few scrapes and bruises which she healed easily before standing and pacing back over to the door. Keen eyes scanned the area outside of it and caught on the man dozing behind the consol that she could only imagine controlled the field to this door and the one across the way. Why hadn’t they put the senator in that one? Why put him with her? Stretching out with her senses again she probed around the area again, more specifically the other cell. It did, indeed, have it’s own occupant…but who?

Yawning a bit, she set to work worming her way into the mind of the man behind the desk, hoping to find a reason behind all of this. A motive, a method, a number of guards, access codes, details about their current whereabouts…anything that might help…the only problem, she wasn’t the best at this sort of thing. Sense, telekinetics, healing…those she was good at…telepathy, not so much. She would have to be extra cautious or risk waking the man or harming him beyond use to her…or worse…triggering something in him that might alert the others in the bunker, building, wherever they were.

[Makiro]

It's a good job Gungans can fly! Shouted Avirod to his companion - a beautiful Twi'lek female - over the rush of cold wind. Their giant flying mount flapped his colossal ears once more and the trio lifted higher into the cloudy sky.

His partner nodded, her teal lekku waving hypnotically with the motion of her head. Senator Poodoo will be pleased!

Who?! Shouted Avirod, as the giant Gungan performed a perfect loop-de-loop. He had certainly never heard of a Senator Poodoo before. After all, he was certain that someone with such an amusing name would be quite memorable!

The Gungan exploded in a shower of purple stars, and Avirod found himself falling. Falling towards what looked like a lake of... what was that?

Oh. It was a lake of bright orange Gooberfish. Apparently the Senate office party was taking place this year.

One of the Gooberfish looked up as the Senator plummeted towards the writhing orange mass. Except, now it wasn't a Gooberfish, but a giant Space Slug.

I do wish you'd make up your mind! Shouted Avi as he plunged into its cavernous maw.

Senator Sarala sat bolt upright and yelled.

Looking around, however, he saw that he was not currently in the stomach of a rogue Space Slug, but was instead sat on the floor of a small, dank cell.

He noticed with a sigh of relief that Sihara, too, was in the cell. He stretched his legs tentatively, hoping to return some feeling to the tingling appendages, and realised that they felt very wet. In fact, his entire body felt very wet.

Suddenly the events which had led up to his being here flooded into his tired mind. He brushed a wet strand of hair from his forehead and sighed. He had been an idiot, hadn't he.

He looked around the cell again, and noted that he and Sihara were its only occupants. Still, he reminded himself, at least their assailants had been foolish enough to leave the two together. At least that showed they had not learnt of Sihara's true identity yet.

Outside the cell his bleary eyes could just make out the shape of a man sitting at a desk. Clearly their guard. Avi hoped that this was their only jailor - though he seriously doubted it. Any group organised enough to discover the Senator's true location was hardly likely to leave him that unguarded - even if they didn't realise exactly who his Togruta companion was.

Suddenly he realised his head really hurt. He clutched at his damp forehead.

Sihara? He said tentatively, his voice sounding unfamiliar - and strangely echoey - Where are we?

He paused.

Also, my head really hurts.

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

“Sihara? Where are we?”

Immediately her mind tensed, stopping her movements in the thoughts of the guard so as not to accidentally damage or disturb him. He had to choose NOW to say something…well, it couldn’t be helped. All she could do now was wait…she could feel him preparing something else to say.

“Also, my head REALLY hurts.”

One hand raised itself, index finger held up to keep him from any further words. Her eyes were closed, obviously concentrating on something…that something happened to be the guard. Hidden within the shadows of the cell where she could see the guard easily, she kept searching, probing, seeking. They were still on Naboo, Keren…somewhere…somewhere in Keren…right under the noses of the royal guards! Where was the best place to hide something? The last place you would ever look? Right under your nose…right in the open. Pulling away from the man’s mind, she sighed and opened her eyes, then looked back over at the senator before walking over to him and kneeling down again and putting her hand against his forehead.

Mine does as well, but yours I can ease more simply than I can mine.

She’d already started pushing that healing energy in, seeking out and soothing the pain, and dampening what she couldn’t easily soothe. She needed to reserve as much energy as she could for their escape. After a moment she pulled her hand away, settling it on her knee as she looked at him…studied him…seriously.

We are in Keren, in an underground facility of some kind. There are multiple guards, and someone in the cell across from us. I'm working on a way to get us out of here, but I'm not prepared yet…I need more time to figure out what, exactly, is going on here before I can assure your safety. Please bear with me.

With that she stood and turned to go back to the door of the cell, but paused. Turning back for a moment she looked down at the senator. Now may have not been the time but she needed to know…if he had the answer to her question, she needed to know.

Senator…the boy’s name…do you remember what it was?

It was a long shot, next to impossible really…at least a dozen force sensitive children were located a day and brought back to the temple. What would ever make her think that it was the same boy? Similar features, perhaps? Some almost motherly instinct? Perhaps. The force? Most certainly…it was gnawing at her mind like a kath hound on a bone. Nothing in her life was coincidental; it had become more and more blaringly obvious to her as time went by.

She had to know…she had to know if he knew anything.

A name…she just wanted a name.

If it wasn’t him, well, she could live with that. But what if it was? What then? What difference would it make? None…none at all. Shaking her head, she turned her face away and walked back to the door of the cell calmly.

Forgive me, I shouldn’t have asked.

[Makiro]

Avirod smiled warmly.

There is nothing to forgive, Sihara. I have come to trust you, and I know that you would not have asked this question so earnestly had you not a reason of the utmost gravity.

I assume the “boy” to whom you refer is my sister’s son – my nephew? If I remember correctly, we were discussing Essa and her son before… well, before this happened.

The Senator gestured emphatically around the dank cell, rolling his eyes as though their incarceration were nothing more than a minor inconvenience – a relaxed façade betrayed only by the beads of nervous sweat forming on the young man’s brow.

There could be any number of reasons for which his Togruta bodyguard wished to know his young nephew’s name, he decided. Perhaps she was simply curious? Although, judging by her generally efficient and professional manner, Avirod highly doubted this was the case. He was sure, however, the reason would be explained as, when and if appropriate.

My nephew’s name was Makiro. Makiro Variyas. His parents called him Kiro, though – before he was taken away, of course. I don’t think Essa ever recovered, you know? From him being taken, I mean.

Something – some subtle nuance in the atmosphere of the room, perhaps – told him to stop talking. And, for the first time in his political career, Prince Sarala of Keren, Senator for Naboo listened to that voice.

Why do you ask, Sihara? Are you okay?

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

Intently she stared up at the ceiling of the cell, the fingertips of one hand running along the low roof, half berating herself for asking him such a question for such selfish reasons and half stretching her senses in that, specific, direction. When he spoke she turned her eyes upon him calmly and sighed. Those sleek features tightened slightly. No, it wasn’t for any reason important to this situation…it had been a selfish question…one that she likely shouldn’t have asked. At his question, she nodded slightly and let her senses ease back toward her again.

Quietly she listened, the force pulled around her, comforting her and supporting her as it always had when she were troubled, and silencing the stormy emotions in her…muffling them from those who might be able to sense them. When he spoke that name, though, she nodded and turned away from him, feigning as if she were studying the guard and the short hall that she’d already studied earlier when he were unconscious. She winced then, and shut her eyes tightly for a moment before recovering. She had her answer now, but it hadn’t helped anything…hadn’t done any good to her or anyone else…it had only reaffirmed the suspicions she’d already had because of the force.

“I don’t think Essa ever recovered, you know? From him being taken, I mean.”

A little, rueful, chuckle escaped her and she nodded.

Yes…I understand.

Her voice was quietly bitter and self depreciating. What a fool she was…not able to feel comfortable in the Order or out of it…other than abandoning her padawan (the very boy who she now knew was related to her current charge), what was she accomplishing? Well…right now she was supposed to be accomplishing the Senator’s escape and the capture of the ring leader of this little band of kidnappers. She just had to find the way to go about it…unfortunately she didn’t believe their leader were here at the moment.

“Why do you ask, Sihara? Are you okay?”

The slender form of the former jedi stilled at his question, stiffening, tensing, as she leaned against the wall of the cell with one hand. The blue glow of the force field bathed the skin of her face in gentle light while the shadows behind her outlined her darkly, giving her the oddly suiting appearance of one trapped between the two extremes. How could she ever hope to answer that question? What did one say in a situation like this? She could only hope the force would lead her to the correct words to explain her thoughts and actions to him appropriately.

I asked…for a selfish, personal, reason Senator. I…needed to know...no, I needed to hear from you…what I’d already guessed to be truth. I had to confirm Makiro’s identity with you.

The air around her was silent…intense, but silent…like the stillness and pressure one feels in deep water, where all you can hear is your own heartbeat. She couldn’t have helped to feel otherwise if she’d tried. While she was keeping her emotions, her shame and sorrow and frustration with herself under a tight reign, it also served to thicken the atmosphere as she attempted to soothe out the pain once again. She could wrestle with it later, now…was not a good time.

In answer to your question, Senator…no…I am not okay. Makiro, however, is in good hands…I was certain to leave him in the care of a master who could teach him far better than I ever could hope to…

Those eyes slid closed and she gave a pained little smile.

…but like all bonds broken…it is still painful for me to have left him.

The subtle glistening of water on her lashes as she opened her eyes were the only sign of the tears she held back as she returned to her work somberly. Using the new sensation of anticipation from above their holding cell as a focus for her mind, she calmed her emotions again and focused back on the new task at hand: figuring out what the anticipation their captors were feeling might mean.

[Makiro]

Captain Yvissa Taara smiled to herself as her speeder sped through the darkened streets of Keren, accompanied by two well-disguised guards. It was finally time to teach the monarchist slugs a lesson; time to show the Galaxy that the people of Naboo were not afraid to stand up for themselves.

After years of planning, the Nabooan Liberation Front were finally facing the crowning moment of their dream. They had captured the king's son, and were ready to make an all too public announcement of their intention to take control of the planet, freeing the oppressed masses from the tyranny of the debauched nobility. All over Naboo, NLF agents waited in hungry anticipation for the call-to-arms of their leaders, and the inevitable surrender of the corrupt Nabooan government; after all, what king would allow his only heir to be executed, not, of course, that the king's signing of the official surrender would save his son. Nothing would save any of the fattened pigs who ran this planet now.

What's more, an offworld hostage would add weight to their case. Even a cold-hearted Nabooan noble would not let an offworld dignitary be killed on his watch, even in the unlikely event that he would put his "duty" before his own flesh and blood; it would simply damage Naboo's reputation far too much, as well as the reputation of the holier-than-thou Escara swine.

Turning her speeder into the small yard in front of the abandoned dockside warehouse she had called home for the past five years, Captain Taara switched off the humming engine and climbed out onto the dusty ground, followed by her two guards. An old man, dressed in the scruffy coveralls of a Nabooan dockhand, emerged from the darkness to greet them. Although he looked innocent, even a little vacant, perhaps, Taara knew that, concealed under his ragged uniform, he carried a small arsenal of blasters and vibroblades.

After a ritualistic exchange of precise phrases and passwords, perhaps unnecessary given her position, but performed nonetheless, Taara and her men were allowed inside.

Soon they were walking briskly down a dank corridor, which Taara knew led underneath the murky depths of Lake Varum. At the end of the corridor, where there was nothing but a dead-end, a man dressed in the same dirty overalls as the one who had greeted them rose from a spindly chair and approached them cautiously. Seeing Taara's face, however, he pressed his hand against a palm-scanner, concealed as a fire-safety sign, one of the more expensive pieces of technology acquired by the NLF, and a hidden door slid aside, allowing them access to the base proper.

More winding corridors, this time filled with NLF soldiers proudly wearing their deep blue uniforms, led Taara and her group back upwards, twisting and turning back around towards the town. The base had an odd layout, to be sure, but the strange and confusing network of narrow corridors and oddly shaped chambers ensured security in the event of a raid.

Soon enough, the group came to a halt outside a well-defended door. After a few short words, they were let inside.

*******

Senator Sarala nodded in what he hoped was an understanding fashion.

Do not worry, Sihara, I trust that whomever you left him with is taking good care of him. I know you are responsible and caring enough to ensure as much. If you don't mind my asking, however, he said, after a moment's consideration, what exactly is it that …

Before he could finish his question, however, he was interrupted by the arrival of his chief of security.

Captain Taara! He said happily, as the uniformed woman stepped out of the gloom. How did you know I was here?

He rose from the floor and stepped over to the glowing forcefield which blocked egress from the cell.

Oh, shut up, Escara slime!

Avirod took a step backwards, as though he had been slapped. What did you say? He demanded angrily.

I said shut up! I see that centuries of inbreeding have taken their toll on you! The men behind her laughed cruelly. But enough frivolity, you're coming with me.

((OOC: Edit: Just noticed the changes the overzealous word censors had made to the word "sblack personed"...))

((OOC: Edit the second: Forgot that said overzealous word censors wouldn't let me type the word again, just because it was in OOC brackets...))

((Tal's note to Makiro: you had a lot of "â€" stuff in there where commas and apostrophes should have been so I cleaned that up for my own reading sanity...there's one in there, however, that I just didn't know what to do with...O.o))

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

The din of the force only grew louder as time went on, the thoughts of those above and around them growing more clear. Anger…so much anger and stubborn belief…blinding faith that what they were about to do was right; lust for revenge and blood and death and freedom…a resistance group? Amidst the din, however, there was an ever nearing calm brooding that starkly contrasted against everything else in the force. The very eye of the storm, it seemed, was coming toward them. Straightening, Sihara moved to the other side of the cell so she could see down the hall leading to the exit. If the predator in her was ever evident to the Senator, it would be now, as those eyes narrowed minimally, her head and neck slightly lowered, the very tips of her lekku twitching and flicking as she waited, probing out with those senses, attempting to sift through the multitude of information the force brought her to find the answers she desired. His words were barely processed, only coming round the front of her mind enough to be fully noticed when he began to ask her a question. That was when the door opened and the sight of the Captain filled her eyes.

If only Sihara could have said she were as surprised as the senator was. Certainly she hadn’t expected Taara to be the snake, but the togruta woman had suspected that someone close to the senator was the one planning this kidnapping. It had been eating away at her since she’d gotten the message from him and taken the job; the mounting suspicion was only confirmed by the precise planning and timing of the kidnapping. Why else would there have been no warning from the gate guards at the senator’s estate? Why else would they have had the door opened for them without security being there as well? Someone they knew had been part of it all along…but nothing had pointed to the captain. Not overtly, anyway. There had been moments, fleeting emotions or thoughts from the captain, that had raised flags for Sihara and so she had decided to watch and wait and bide her time, carefully formulating options and possibilities. Looking to the senator as he replied angrily to her first comment, Sihara shook her head slightly, warning him not to do anything foolish. He had trusted her to protect him, and protect him she would, but he had to be patient.

Their laughter at Taara’s next words had those startling eyes flicking back over to the woman and (now three) guards, the one from the control desk having gotten up and headed over to them. With a nod of the woman’s head, that same guard walked over to the key pad beside the cell and swiped the key card before punching in a few numbers. Just as the force field flickered out of existence, Sihara’s mind tightened down on the youngest of the guards, seeping through his minimal barriers and taking control of his actions. While in no way as good as others who used the force in the realm of telepathy, she knew enough of the body and mind to be able to work her way around her shortcomings given the right circumstances. As the two were pulled out of the cell, Sihara struggled only for a moment…enough to give them the idea that she in no way liked what they were doing. Despite that, the two were bound and dragged out of the cell and up toward the main corridors of the base.

[Makiro]

((OOC: Sorry :S I think it must be something to do with my computer, as it shows a lot of your punctuation as squares, too ><))

Avirod affected a look of haughty indifference as he was half-dragged, half-pushed through the dingy corridors of the underground lair. The ability of a Senator to deceive others with expressions and actions was surely rivalled only by that of an actor or a spy. The blue-uniformed revolutionaries past whom he was paraded spat at him, but he ignored them, determined to retain his noble composure.

Eventually, their captors brought him and Sihara to a large room, filled from floor to ceiling with blinking monitors, keypads and machines. On the far side of the circular chamber, Avirod could see what looked to be a holorecorder, with a crude transmitter attached to one side. He turned to Taara.

What do you want, traitor? He said, his voice quavering slightly as he considered the possible answers.

Taara giggled coquettishly. All in good time, Senator. All in good time.

Turning to a blue-liveried technician, she spoke to him briefly in a voice too hushed for even a Senator’s prying ears to hear. Avirod glanced at Sihara, wondering whether she had any idea what was unfolding around them.

Senator Sarala. Said Taara, not turning from the monitor she was now inspecting, Honoured Torgrutan guest. You will, of course, be wondering what exactly the purpose of your incarceration might be. Let me tell you.

She turned to the two captives, the cruel light of some sort of terrible passion in her steely eyes.

For too long this world has been lorded over by fat swine. When our forefathers settled here after their flight from Grizmaalt four hundred years ago – and this I say for your benefit, rusty – they hoped that they had escaped the oppressive government of that Chaos. Naboo was to be a paradise. A utopia! Her people free and equal, ruled by a government both fair and honest, free from the corruption and elitism of our old home.

But that was not to be, was it Senator? With that, she spat viciously at Avirod, her eyes still burning with fiery rage.

It wasn’t long before the old families – the Escaras, the Naberries, the Bibbles – all of the old set, the friends of royalty, of nobility – stretched out their gilded talons and claimed Naboo as their own, their prize. All of those who had dared to hope were soon crushed under the corpulent weight of the City States, with their Princes and their Lords, and Governors. They even “elected” a King – a King! We who had fled civil war and oppression were now being squashed under the heel of yet another debauched monarch – yes he was “elected”, but by whom? By the Princes – by the rich, and the powerful. It wasn’t fair!

And so now we plan to redress the balance. We shall create a fair and free society! We shall ensure a brighter future for our children, and our children’s children! Just as soon as we broadcast our demands to your father and his princely lackeys – with a little extra persuasion, of course – we shall march forwards and reclaim this world for the Nabooan People!

Taara fell silent, and looked, if anything, a little embarrassed. Spittle flecked her face. An uncomfortable silence fell. Then Avirod snorted.

And how do your propose to “persuade” my father to relinquish control of his entire world? He has reigned over Naboo for years, and his people love him! He has no reason to step down because of the depraved fantasies of a few delusional reactionaries! Even if you threaten to kill me, he will do his duty to his world and to his people!

Taara smirked. That may be. However, you dropped the solution to that little problem right in my lap when you invited that alien for tea and cakes. She scowled at Sihara.

Your father might be ready to cling madly to his despotic tyranny, but what will the Senate say when they learned he had a visiting dignitary murdered?

Avirod stared blankly at her. What do you mean?

She barked an order, and the technician to whom she had spoken earlier handed her a datapad.

On here, she said, smiling like a hungry kath hound, is an order from your father to have the alien murdered. Pretty damning evidence, wouldn’t you say?

Avirod scowled. My father would never order such a thing! And the Senate would never believe it!

That’s where you’re wrong, Escara. We have witnesses, informants, spies. They will all attest to the legitimacy of this document. It doesn’t matter whether or not it was real – the Senate will believe!

[Talau the Ever-Lurking]

((I’ve deactivated Sihara, so I’ll finish this thread with you and then unfortunately it’s off she goes once and for all))

Quietly she allowed herself to be led, that being a term loosely used, through the halls of the base and past numbers of revolutionaries who spat and jeered, but received only passing glances from the former jedi as her mind brushed along theirs, dipping swiftly into their surface thoughts to glean any information possible from them. Some recoiled from the foreign and unexpected touch, not certain just what to make of it, and feeling too self-conscious to speak of it to the other around them and possibly raise the alarm on her actions.

As they were pushed into the final room, golden eyes swiftly took stock of the control panel, monitors, holo-recorder and its transmitter. As the technician was called forward and spoken to, Sihara was gently probing around the man’s mind in such a way that he would not feel her, gaining glimpses of his surface thoughts as well. Distracted by her personal mission, she barely noticed the Senator’s attention fall upon her. Once the technician moved away from Taara once more, Sihara made her move…swiftly delving into the man’s fairly negligible mental defenses and wrapping her presence around the portion of his mind that controlled his motor functions and speech. Being a healer, she was well versed in finding such places to help make her job of healing easier…to keep a patient from struggling or crying out should they be in a dangerous situation that required silence to keep from being detected. Because of this it wasn’t difficult for her to lock the man out of his ability to control himself and his voice…forcing him to sit himself down and allow her to seek out what information she needed.

Certainly she wasn’t able to be as gentle as she would have liked, she wasn’t a telepath, skilled in gathering information from others minds without their noticing, or doing much damage, but thankfully what she needed wasn’t exactly hidden deep in the recesses of the man’s mind either. She moved swiftly, keeping her grip on the man’s mind as he struggled against her, while she swiftly honed in on the switches and keys she needed to bring her will about before pulling the memory of her ever entering his mind from him and letting him free with the thought that he’d dozed off.

Telekinesis was a wonderful, and valuable, gift she was blessed with…it allowed her to do all manner of handy things…from unlocking binders to moving furniture, flipping light switches to subtly turning on holo-recorders and their transmitters. She had already cut the feed from the recorder to the monitor that would show what it was recording, dialed down the audio in the room so that no one could hear that it actually was recording…but it was recording. Every sound, every word, every motion was caught and transmitted out.

“It doesn’t matter whether or not it was real, the senate will believe!”

Quietly the lock to one of her wrist binders clicked open, the cuff staying closed for now to keep the illusion. It was unlikely anyone had heard the subtle sound, since at that moment Sihara shifted, turning her head to gaze over at the Senator before looking back to Taara. ”Captain Taara…I can’t believe that you would turn on those who have employed you for so long…those who trusted their lives to you. Why? What wrong has been done to you that you feel you must forge such evidence? Why kill us? What do you hope to gain other than war and suffering? What would you replace the current leadership with? Anarchy? And do you truly believe that the jedi will not be sent to investigate our deaths should you succeed in killing us? These claimed actions are out of keeping with the typical methods of King Escara…what would he hope to gain by such an act that you could prove? Nothing…he would have nothing to gain and everything to lose. You trap yourself in your own lies by continuing this foolishness.” She paused a moment to allow her words to sink in, her calm and even tone working to press the woman into further agitation, to make her slip in her anger and admit to something she wouldn’t want to admit to on a live recording.

It had been her experience that those driven by passion despised the dispassionate and the calm…rankling them and forcing them to try that much harder to make their point or get a rise out of their counterpart. It was what dark jedi used when taunting others, when harrying jedi or other force users…trying to get them to slip up and make a mistake. Sihara was now employing the same technique…only subtly, calmly, using her soft spoken and even nature to hopefully off balance her opponent in this verbal game of djarik.

”My people have good relations with Naboo, we know King Escara well enough that it will be difficult for our senators to believe he would order such a thing, and even if your plan does work, you will be under scrutiny as well. You will be found out eventually, Captain Taara…this world will hear of your plans sooner or later, and while you may…in a way…have your people’s best intentions at heart, they will turn from you for your willingness to slaughter those who have no hand in your troubles. After all, if you are willing to sacrifice a diplomat from another planet, and potentially bring that planet’s rage down upon you…who else would you be willing to sacrifice? What else would you be willing to sacrifice? What else would you do to have your way? Would you turn to the Empire? Would you turn to the Dark Jedi, or this new ‘Sith Order’ and bring their tyranny instead?”

Quietly the tips of her lekku flicked to and fro, curling and uncurling as she watched the woman through calm and steady eyes. As she’d spoken, the other lock in her binders had been undone, leaving the cuff itself closed. She couldn’t yet safely do the same to Avirod’s binders for fear of him, one of the guards, or Taara herself, accidentally jostling them open. At least with her own binders unlocked Sihara knew that she had control over when and how the binders were opened.

[Makiro]

The slightest of frowns furrowed Taara’s brow as she considered the Togruta’s words. The alien did have a point… But still, she, Captain Evissa Taara of the Royal Naboo Guard had thought her plan through well enough… hadn’t she?

As Sihara ceased her verbal onslaught, Taara offered her a crooked smile, which suggested both a complete fanatical conviction and a sort of weary sadness.

Look, alien, I don’t expect you to understand. She said, with what could have been mistaken – by those who did not know Taara’s true nature – for warmth. Naboo… Naboo is sick. She is struggling under the disease of the Escaras and the cohorts, as the Republic spreads like a tumour across the stars. Thousands of worlds now call themselves members of the Republic. They speak Basic, and they use credits, and they bow down to the will of the Chancellor, and the Senators and the corrupt, decrepit old governments which preside over them with all the competence of an overweight space slug.

All I want for my people – all I want for Naboo – is freedom. Space to breathe. Sometimes sacrifices have to be made to achieve goals. You’re a Jedi, you know better than most that the path to freedom and justice isn’t always easy. Does a surgeon, faced with an infected limb, choose not to amputate lest his patient feel discomfort? No. He knows that, if he did that – if he let term compassion cloud his judgement – the patient would surely waste away and perish. Naboo is like that, Togruta. Naboo is an ailing being, and the Republic and all those who support her and who are supported by her – the Escaras included – are the gangrene which is slowly killing her. Would you suggest that I just watch as my homeworld is infected by corruption, and arrogance and injustice, and perishes? Or would you say that, like the doctor, I must sacrifice the limb to save the patient?

You say that the alternative is the Sith? Why? Why must Naboo bow to any interstellar community? We are the Nabooan Liberation Front, alien. We want liberty. Real, true liberty. Free from the Republic, free from the Sith. Free from any but ourselves and our own conscience.
Taara smiled crookedly once more, this time the same weary sadness threatened to overwhelm her features.

I’m sorry. But you must die – many must die – so that we can cast off the shackles of disease and pain, and welcome in a new dawn of peace and freedom. If that means that dishonesty and forgery are the necessary tools, well, then I shall not hesitate to use them. If framing the King means that the people of Naboo can taste the sweet air of liberty… well, I intend to frame the King.

She turned to a technician. Placing a hand on his shoulder, she said, for all to hear.

It is time.