@Dauthis @Jago @Cara @Mistiel
Grand Senate Hall, Coruscant
The vast Senate chamber on Coruscant was renowned for its magnificent size and stark beauty. The disk-shaped black pods, each and every one of them outlined with sky blue neon light, spiraled in tiers around the central dais. Upon that central dais stood an elderly Ithorian, supported by a human aide on one side and a younger Ithorian on the other. As Supreme Chancellor Wherd Trasso addressed his people through the Senate body, he looked up toward the highest tiers of seating near the roof.
It seemed as if the Senate, and the Republic, were shrinking with each passing day, every passing moment. Though it was not yet visible to most of the general galactic populace, the Republic was beginning to weaken. Years of peace had begun to stagnate the political and economic waters. It was only a matter of time before ordinary citizens, or even an external source, took it into their own hands to flip the galaxy on its head once more.
"Chancellor? Chancellor are you listening to us?" barked the senator from Anzat, his pod parked in midair just meters in front of the Supreme Chancellor's dais. The old Ithorian blinked his milky eyes, an acknowledgement. His wheezy voice rang out over the Senate intercom. "I heard you, Senator. Yes I am well aware that tensions are high in Hutt Space. What we need to do is wait and..."
He was interrupted as another pod swung down from a middling tier of seats. "With all due respect Chancellor, all you want to do IS wait! All you EVER want to do is WAIT! We need to act!" The brutish, vaguely canine Klatooinian senator smiled wolfishly as the chamber erupted in cheers. The old Ithorian merely held up a hand for silence. He did what he did best and waited for the silence to die down. "Are you done?" he asked tiredly, glancing in the Klatoonian pod's direction.
When no response was forthcoming and the Klatooinian's pod withdrew, the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic continued. "I said we need to wait...for the Jedi strike team I authorized two weeks ago to garner results." A hush fell over the entire Senate chamber. This was unprecedented.
In his long career, the Chancellor was known for strict adherence to policy. The Jedi were no more a part of the government than any of these politicians were Force users. Trasso himself excluded of course. He had been informed at a young age that he could have become a Jedi, but he had declined and never looked back. He didn't need to use the Force to gauge the waves of disapproval radiating back at him from nearly all the Senate pods. The Zeltron, Naboo and Alderaanian pods all pleasantly smiled back at him. He wasn't surprised given their species penchants for political subterfuge. They probably thought his actions smart and prudent. A pity the rest of the chamber was in uproar. The galaxy had stagnated, and Chancellor Trasso had tried to make the first move, to dictate the direction it would move, but the galaxy could not be manipulated so easily.
For the next two hours, he had to calm several angry senators down, explaining to them why he did what he did, all the while praying to whatever Force gods existed that his team could uncover what the Hutt Cartel was truly up to. If they were still alive that is....
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Jedi Master Sa Tomar stood before his honored guests, his dark-skinned, smooth-shaven Padawan, Mace Windu, at his side. Unlike Sa Tomar's defensive folded arm, feet spread posture, Mace stood feet together, hands folded in front of him, eyes watching the proceedings intently. Whereas Master Tomar's gaze left emotional scorch marks wherever it fell, Mace's gaze was one of cool neutrality.
Among the beings arranged in front of the renowned duo stood another Master-Padawan team. At the forefront of the group stood the tall, silent, somewhat imposing figure of Menn Lutaro. His Zabrak horns gleamed in the light of the stark white shipboard glowpanels. Next to him, a young human girl, Menn's apprentice Sia Awen. To Menn's other (left) side stood a menacing combat droid holding what appeared to be its primary weapon.
Sa wished there were more, but the strike team assembled before him would have to do. He uncrossed his arms, stepping out a little ways in front of his apprentice. Mace's eyes only flickered to him for a microsecond, then resumed their patrol of the room and its other occupants. "As you all know, we're here to investigate - and possibly engage - a rogue group of Dark Jedi hiding out in Hutt space. Many of our Order have fallen to temptating before, so it's impossible for the Council to speculate as to who this group is comprised of, but rest assured, that is what we shall discover!" He paced in front of the makeshift line of his team. The starboard lounge that they currently occupied was empty save for these four beings and one droid.
Menn Lutaro crossed his own arms, shooting Tomar a disapproving look. "Remember Master Tomar, we are going to assess the situation and report our findings to the Council. We do NOT yet have orders to ENGAGE." His right eyebrow began to lift up at Tomar's initial feline expression of disbelief and anger. Master Tomar's fur flattened almost instantly, though when he spoke his voice was calm, serene even. "Ah yes, Master Lutaro, of course we're going to just assess. However," he lifted a fur-covered finger, "if we are attacked, I intend to show our provokers no mercy."
Menn sighed. "Whatever you say, Master Tomar. As long as when we report any findings to the Council that I too am present." His small grin was far outshadowed by the positively sinister feral one thrown his way by Tomar. In his peripheral vision, Menn eyed his Padawan Sia for her reaction to this exchange. He was worried that by accepting this mission, Sia might learn a bit too much from Master Tomar's more....aggressive negotiating style. She was already enough of a handful for him.
He didn't even want to see Sia pick up on Tomar's aggressively different fashion choices. The navy Jedi robe instead of the traditional, simple, homespun brown that Menn himself wore spoke volumes about Tomar's state of mind. Menn attributed the aggression to the other's Cathar hunter-gatherer roots, but was left with a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that hoped Master Tomar wasn't on a slow path to the dark side.
Prologue
A long time ago in a galaxy far, far away....
STAR WARS: The Shadow Covenant
Grand Senate Hall, Coruscant
The vast Senate chamber on Coruscant was renowned for its magnificent size and stark beauty. The disk-shaped black pods, each and every one of them outlined with sky blue neon light, spiraled in tiers around the central dais. Upon that central dais stood an elderly Ithorian, supported by a human aide on one side and a younger Ithorian on the other. As Supreme Chancellor Wherd Trasso addressed his people through the Senate body, he looked up toward the highest tiers of seating near the roof.
It seemed as if the Senate, and the Republic, were shrinking with each passing day, every passing moment. Though it was not yet visible to most of the general galactic populace, the Republic was beginning to weaken. Years of peace had begun to stagnate the political and economic waters. It was only a matter of time before ordinary citizens, or even an external source, took it into their own hands to flip the galaxy on its head once more.
"Chancellor? Chancellor are you listening to us?" barked the senator from Anzat, his pod parked in midair just meters in front of the Supreme Chancellor's dais. The old Ithorian blinked his milky eyes, an acknowledgement. His wheezy voice rang out over the Senate intercom. "I heard you, Senator. Yes I am well aware that tensions are high in Hutt Space. What we need to do is wait and..."
He was interrupted as another pod swung down from a middling tier of seats. "With all due respect Chancellor, all you want to do IS wait! All you EVER want to do is WAIT! We need to act!" The brutish, vaguely canine Klatooinian senator smiled wolfishly as the chamber erupted in cheers. The old Ithorian merely held up a hand for silence. He did what he did best and waited for the silence to die down. "Are you done?" he asked tiredly, glancing in the Klatoonian pod's direction.
When no response was forthcoming and the Klatooinian's pod withdrew, the Supreme Chancellor of the Republic continued. "I said we need to wait...for the Jedi strike team I authorized two weeks ago to garner results." A hush fell over the entire Senate chamber. This was unprecedented.
In his long career, the Chancellor was known for strict adherence to policy. The Jedi were no more a part of the government than any of these politicians were Force users. Trasso himself excluded of course. He had been informed at a young age that he could have become a Jedi, but he had declined and never looked back. He didn't need to use the Force to gauge the waves of disapproval radiating back at him from nearly all the Senate pods. The Zeltron, Naboo and Alderaanian pods all pleasantly smiled back at him. He wasn't surprised given their species penchants for political subterfuge. They probably thought his actions smart and prudent. A pity the rest of the chamber was in uproar. The galaxy had stagnated, and Chancellor Trasso had tried to make the first move, to dictate the direction it would move, but the galaxy could not be manipulated so easily.
For the next two hours, he had to calm several angry senators down, explaining to them why he did what he did, all the while praying to whatever Force gods existed that his team could uncover what the Hutt Cartel was truly up to. If they were still alive that is....
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Two Weeks Earlier, Aboard the Hammerhead Cruiser, Dominant
____________________________________________________________________________________________________________
Jedi Master Sa Tomar stood before his honored guests, his dark-skinned, smooth-shaven Padawan, Mace Windu, at his side. Unlike Sa Tomar's defensive folded arm, feet spread posture, Mace stood feet together, hands folded in front of him, eyes watching the proceedings intently. Whereas Master Tomar's gaze left emotional scorch marks wherever it fell, Mace's gaze was one of cool neutrality.
Among the beings arranged in front of the renowned duo stood another Master-Padawan team. At the forefront of the group stood the tall, silent, somewhat imposing figure of Menn Lutaro. His Zabrak horns gleamed in the light of the stark white shipboard glowpanels. Next to him, a young human girl, Menn's apprentice Sia Awen. To Menn's other (left) side stood a menacing combat droid holding what appeared to be its primary weapon.
Sa wished there were more, but the strike team assembled before him would have to do. He uncrossed his arms, stepping out a little ways in front of his apprentice. Mace's eyes only flickered to him for a microsecond, then resumed their patrol of the room and its other occupants. "As you all know, we're here to investigate - and possibly engage - a rogue group of Dark Jedi hiding out in Hutt space. Many of our Order have fallen to temptating before, so it's impossible for the Council to speculate as to who this group is comprised of, but rest assured, that is what we shall discover!" He paced in front of the makeshift line of his team. The starboard lounge that they currently occupied was empty save for these four beings and one droid.
Menn Lutaro crossed his own arms, shooting Tomar a disapproving look. "Remember Master Tomar, we are going to assess the situation and report our findings to the Council. We do NOT yet have orders to ENGAGE." His right eyebrow began to lift up at Tomar's initial feline expression of disbelief and anger. Master Tomar's fur flattened almost instantly, though when he spoke his voice was calm, serene even. "Ah yes, Master Lutaro, of course we're going to just assess. However," he lifted a fur-covered finger, "if we are attacked, I intend to show our provokers no mercy."
Menn sighed. "Whatever you say, Master Tomar. As long as when we report any findings to the Council that I too am present." His small grin was far outshadowed by the positively sinister feral one thrown his way by Tomar. In his peripheral vision, Menn eyed his Padawan Sia for her reaction to this exchange. He was worried that by accepting this mission, Sia might learn a bit too much from Master Tomar's more....aggressive negotiating style. She was already enough of a handful for him.
He didn't even want to see Sia pick up on Tomar's aggressively different fashion choices. The navy Jedi robe instead of the traditional, simple, homespun brown that Menn himself wore spoke volumes about Tomar's state of mind. Menn attributed the aggression to the other's Cathar hunter-gatherer roots, but was left with a niggling feeling in the back of his mind that hoped Master Tomar wasn't on a slow path to the dark side.
