Jackdaw

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[Coruscant, 6 ATC 4] A House Divided II: A Little Wrong

A House Divided

I: Instrumentalities of Secession

"[The Contemplanys Hermi] does not provide to the Corellian Sector an instrumentality of secession."
- Corellia v. Galactic Republic, __ G.R. *14 (6 ATC)

- - -

Dramatis Personae

Senators and Staff of the Galactic Senate
Janai Avala, Undersecretary to the Chancellor

Tychus Alastor, Senator for Alsakan

Fosten U. Towler, Senator for Loronar
Paulen Roker, Chief of Staff
Iyla Tyndulla, Deputy Chief of Staff

Eyri Pharliis, Senator for Pantora
Iri Mosvaine, Chief of Staff

O'Keemi T'Sombe, Senator for Amar-in-Exile
Tasha Jinn, Chief of Staff
Keyjin Seikow, Deputy Chief of Staff
Sora Naokey, Legislative Director
Sen'sha Tanoor, Communications Director
Additional Staff

Shae Yun, Senator for Castell

Sadt Domask, Senator for Skako

Neah Lyannis, Senator for Farstine

Casmir Covost, Senator for Byblos

Tarth Kolat, Senator for Iridonia

Doriah Castal, Senator for Dorsis

Private Entities
Veralai Brax, Executive at Corellian Engineering Company

Callum Rensler, Lobbying Partner at Ku'lya, Kast & Vosadii LLP
Pai Gen, Senior Associate
Narayana Navi, Mid-level Associate
Ben Croya, Junior Associate

Jacen Jast, Director at Coronet Analytica, Inc.

Akira Zexal, Information Broker
Various Analysts

Jen Surve, Editor at the Galactic Times
Aylara Tewoe, Reporter at the Galactic Times

Government Agents
Trist Menron, Commander with CFSEU-C013
Urik Rholar, Sergeant with CFSEU-C013

Leena Mala, Detective with the CSS Homicide Division
Sev Wera, Detective with the CSS Homicide Division; Leena's partner

[Coruscant, 6 ATC 4] A House Divided II: A Little Wrong

Towler, Senator for Loronar

---

Name: Fosten U. Towler

Occupation and Affiliation: Senator for Loronar, Caucus Whip for the South Colonial Caucus

Description: A little heavier set than he or his wife would like, more than tired around the eyes, but a friendly looking, likable fellow who represents Loronar on the floor of the Galactic Senate. Fosten U. Towler is a consummate politician with a way of winning the minds and votes of his fellow senators and his constituents, but those who work directly with Towler know that the impressive unity of the South Colonial Caucus's voting history is due to the man's tireless work, discipline, and unyielding resolve to achieve results at any cost necessary.

Background: Fosten U. Towler is a career politician, having served as the Senatorial representative for Loronar for over two decades. Over the years, Towler has become one of the most powerful politicians in the Senate for his prominent position as the caucus whip for the South Colonial Caucus, an informal political alliance within the Galactic Senate composed of worlds in the galactic south's Colonies region, though its influence stretches far beyond its astrographic scope. A powerful and influential senator with two decades' worth of powerful and influential senators for allies, any bill backed by Senator Towler can depend on the backing of hundreds of worlds.

[Coruscant, 6 ATC 4] A House Divided II: A Little Wrong

Callum Rensler, Lawyer & Lobbyist

Occupation and Affiliation: Partner at Ku'lya, Kast & Vosadii LLP

Description: Tall, dark, and not too bad to look at, Callum Rensler wears expensive suits, drives an expensive speeder, and smiles with pearl white teeth and friendly eyes. Charismatic, bold, and intelligent, Rensler is a keen negotiator, talented talker, and fierce advocate for his clients at Ku'lya Kast, who range from the galaxy's largest corporations to the galaxy's largest special interest groups. He's the picture of a senator, but he gets paid much, much more to make his clients' political ambitions come to fruition on the floor of the Galactic Senate.

Background: Callum Rensler graduated from the Corsacsi School of Law on his homeworld Coruscant nearly twenty years ago, and from there made his way into politics. He spent years working on the staffs of half a dozen Senators, and eventually took a lucrative offer to join the Coruscant office of Ku'lya, Kast & Vosadii LLP, one of the galaxy's premier law firms, where he immediately entered the legally and morally grey world of corporate lobbying at the intersection of business and politics.

With years of experience behind him, and more than a few friends in the highest echelons of the galaxy's political nerve center, he quickly proved a valued asset to Ku'lya Kast as a lobbyist capable of achieving results while staying on the right side of the law. He was granted a partnership interest with the firm after a number of years as an associate, and has come to lead a team of some of Ku'lya Kast's best lawyers in their endless quest to bend the Republic to the interests of the rich, powerful, and well-represented.

[Coruscant, 6 ATC 4] A House Divided II: A Little Wrong

Character Template

Name: [Your Character's Name]

Occupation and Affiliation: [i.e. Journalist for the Coruscant Star-Herald, Private Investigator, Independent Smuggler, Republic Senator, Strategic Information Service Field Agent]

Description: [Include such details as age, species, clothing, weapons on person, details regarding appearance, whatever suits you]

Background: [A short and sweet, third-person account of who your character is, what he does, and what he's been up to prior to the commencement of his or her participation in this story]

[Coruscant, 6 ATC 4] A House Divided II: A Little Wrong

A House Divided

Rensler - The Law Offices of Ku'lya, Kast & Vosadii LLP

---

Callum Rensler leaned back in chair, an old, black leather thing that couched him very nicely, and waited for the newest addition to his team to speak. It took a moment, but the young man eventually got the sense that it was his turn to talk.

“Well, there are constitutional issues implicated here,” the associate said. Obviously. He was young. Very young. They get younger every year, and I get older. “But the Chancellor’s Article IV War Powers take priority over, well, almost anything, right?” he asked. The question was tentative. “That is, if the Senate passes a statute empowering him to,” the associated added. It was the oldest of balances to strike in this sort of conversation, for the junior associate to present himself as intelligent, casually, while also subtly acknowledging that he knew almost nothing.

The Chancellor’s Article IV war powers take priority over almost everything, yes, an answer straight from a lecture given in whatever law school this associate graduated. But do the Article IV war powers allow the Galactic Senate to pass a statute empowering the Chancellor to exercise seizure of property derivatively protected by the Contemplanys Hermi and its corollary accords? Maybe. It would make sense, on its face, but the outcome would make the guarantee to Corellia of its ability to suspend its membership of the Republic worthless. The lawyers were going to have a field day with this one if it passed.

“What’s your name again?” Callum asked.

“Ben. Ben Croya.”

“Right, Ben,” Callum continued. “Did you intern with us before coming on?”

“Uh, yeah, that’s correct. I was here two summers ago. For the program,” Ben Croya said.

“So, you’re a first-year associate,” Callum said. “You’ve been here, what? Three months now?”

“Uh, yes.”

“Alright, you know the drill then. I want you to go through Horvatz’s Treatise on Galactic Constitutional Law and give me briefs on every case on the Chancellor’s Article IV war powers with respect to the Contemplanys Hermi. You know what, look for anything having to do with the Contemplanys Hermi and the Takings Clause too. And drop some footnotes on general commentary from the Treatise while you’re at it, alright?”

“Uh, sure. When do you want that by?”

“Immediately, Mr. Croya,” Callum said, pointing at a holofeed in the corner of the room. Even on mute, they could almost hear the chants as the camera feed panned over thousands of protesters on the streets of Coruscant, Corellia, and a dozen other words besides. “If you haven’t noticed, the situation is a little urgent.”

“Of course,” Mr. Croya said hurriedly. “And when you say dropping footnotes…”

“Just ask Narayana,” Callum preempted him, waving him off. Ben Croya, first-year associate, scuttled out of Callum’s office. These kids. Callum keyed a few buttons on his desk terminal and put a call through to Narayana to warn her of her upcoming visit. As it rang, her profile came up on his terminal screen. Narayana Navi, graduated from Anaxes School of Law with the second highest honors available, certificates of excellence in corporate and securities, government, and real estate law, and a fifth-year associate at Ku’lya, Kast & Vosadii LLP.

“Hi Cal,” the Mirialan said, voice cheerful and strained simultaneously. It was a busy day for all of them.

“Hey Raya, I sent down that first-year to you. Roya, I think his name was?”

“Ben Croya. He’s a good kid.”

“Sure. I have him briefing cases on Article IV and the Contemplanys, he has some questions on formatting for you, I think.”

“That’s not nice, Cal,” she said, scolding but almost laughing. Callum smirked, looking out over Coruscant through the sliver of window which passed for a luxurious amenity on this most densely crowded of worlds. Mr. Croya would find frustratingly little to present in his memo. He’d probably end up panicking a bit, Callum imagined, wondering if he were missing something hugely important that was sure to get himself fired not even three months into the job. Callum remembered being an associate.

“It’ll keep him busy. We’re paying these kids too much, Raya,” he said. “Where are we at on the backers for this thing?”

“I have a list of senators supporting the resolution ready, but I’m still compiling their financial donations over the last few months. I have a few of our guys in data analytics going over the statistics and, uh, they think they’ve found something interesting,” she said.

“Yeah?” Callum asked, perking up a little. ‘Interesting’ was good. Maybe. ‘Interesting’ could be bad, too. Very bad, if it was the wrong kind of interesting.

“We’re seeing some deviations from traditional voting patterns on this. A lot, actually. Senators going cross-message, flip-flopping. More than usual,” Raya said. “More than you’d get from lobbying under normal circumstances.”

“Well, these aren’t normal circumstances," Callum said, but thoughtfully. They were extraordinary circumstances, really, but the analytics these days had a real way of cutting through the muck and mire. It couldn't be ignored. "You don’t think people are being bought, do you?”

“No. I mean, maybe, but I don’t have anything definite for you,” she said. Callum nodded.

“Send me that list, Raya.”

- - -

So, this is an investigative mystery RP focused on corruption and politics in the heart of the Galactic Senate that will played out in-tandem with a developing plotline revolving around Corellia.

The main thrust of the RP is straightforward enough. Through the exercise of the Galactic Senate’s War Powers clause under Article IV of the Galactic Constitution, a weighty number of powerful senators have introduced a bill to the Senate floor authorizing the Chancellor to seize the Corellian Engineering Corporation’s shipyards in response to the developing Free Corellia crisis, which, it seems, is bordering on outright revolution.

The problem with this proposal is the Contemplanys Hermi, an obscure clause in the Galactic Constitution that allows the Corellian sector to suspend diplomatic relations with the Republic and temporarily declare itself a neutral, independent state separate and apart from the Galactic Republic. The resolution in question, Resolution 4-1138-95, raises constitutional issues on the grounds that the ability of the Galactic Senate to seize Corellian assets protected by the Contemplanys Hermi renders the sector’s ability to separate itself from the Republic entirely ineffective, reducing the Contemplanys to an unenforceable promise on paper.

While Corellia—and indeed, many of the more independently minded worlds in the Galactic Republic—are outraged at this turn of events, all legal precedent suggests that the War Powers afforded to the Galactic Senate take precedence over such constitutional concerns in the event of an emergency such as the one brewing on Corellia.

As irreconcilable differences are wont to do, the resolution threatens to make the Galactic Senate—and the Republic itself—a house divided.

While to the eyes of most this political drama is unfolding in the due course of politics, one lobbyist in a corner office of the politically-oriented law firm Ku’lya, Kast & Vosadii LLP senses that something is amiss, and endeavors to sift through a web of corruption, greed, and illicit profits to determine who, exactly, stands to gain from turning the Republic against itself.

If you’re interested in joining, drop a little interest-post below and feel free to either draft a full character for the RP, or participate through the drafting of a supplemental character you’ll use for this RP alone. A brief template for such supplemental characters will be provided in the near future. Obviously, supplemental characters can be drafted into fully fledged PCs whenever you like. Whatever works for you.

To make this idea work, I’d love to source some smugglers, spies, politicians, and the like for this story line. Hell, an investigative journalist would be an awesome addition. Dig up some dirt for the Coruscant Star Gazette or something. I imagine I might wind up playing most of the antagonists in this, but if you’re interested in playing a corrupt politician or businessman, an agent of the antagonists, or the like, let me know and we’ll coordinate something.

Once we have sufficient interest, we’ll kick this off with some story boarding sessions to get a sense of direction for the actual writing, and I have a suspicion the plot will take us from there.

Coruscant

Jast - The Trentara Café

---

The Trentara was a stratospheric, open-air café perched on a terrace high above the surface of Coruscant. Diners enjoyed the best of renowned Corellian chef Mara Sahlo’s expertly prepared cuisine and a well-appointed view of the city-world, overlooking some of the most famous skyrakers in the galaxy. That view included the domed Senate, the seat of the Republic, of democracy in the galaxy itself. Mara Sahlo was an excellent chef, but it was that view that made a plate at the Trentana so expensive.

That view also gave its occupants a similarly well-appointed view of a hab building, about a kilometer off, as one of its windows exploded outward in a burst of fire and smoke. A seemingly small, stark white figure plummeted through the sky into the sprawl below. Few noticed the flash, or the falling figure, but the sound, an acrid crack that cut through air, attracted attention. There was a collection of gasps and stifled screams from the array of diners on the Trentara, and all eyes were fixed on the distant building, the glowing blaze in one of its windows.

Jacen Jast, sitting at one of the outermost tables on the terrace, just finished with dinner, was well ahead of the crowd, a palm sized communicator to his ear as he watched the scene unfold. It was too distant to make out anything in particular, but something was going on at what he believed to be a military installation of some kind. Errol Barr, senior director of Coronet Analytica, disagreed.

“With all due respect, Jacen,” Barr intoned, most definitely without any due respect, “we’re still waiting on confirmation that there is a situation at all.” Waiting on confirmation. Jast had watched it happen before his eyes not ten seconds before dialing. If Barr was half as good at his job as he was at sounding like he had the vaguest sense of being in the loop, they'd all be working for him.

“With all due respect,” Jacen spat back, “I just witnessed a fucking situation first-hand, a munitions explosion at a military hab tower.”

“Jacen!” Carlotte scolded, hands over their daughter’s ears. Lyra turned to look up at her mother.

“Fuckin‘ sijuashun,” the girl repeated, excited at the commotion. Jacen mouthed an apology at Carlotte. She rolled her eyes and explained to Lyra in sweet, patient tones that some words are not to be used by respectable little ladies. Meanwhile, Barr continued his stonewalling.

“We will have a team on this as soon—” he was saying, but Jacen terminated the call and made another. Blirrun Cligh, a mid-level analyst on Jacen’s staff, picked up nearly immediately. Always by the comm, that one, which Jacen liked.

“Jast?” Blirrun asked.

“Yeah, Cligh, there’s been an explosion near the Senate square. I think it’s a military residential complex or similar,” Jacen said. “I’ve got eyes on the scene right now.”

“There’s a couple of those in the area,” Blirrun said, seemingly referencing a map of the area by the tone of his voice. “I don’t think we have anything on that. I don’t even think there’s anything in the news yet.”

“Of course not. It just happened. I’m coming into the office,” Jacen said, eyes flicking over to Carlotte. Her hands were up and her expression was twisted up in mock outrage. Maybe not mock outrage. It could be actual outrage. “Put out the word, I want the team in their seats before I get there. So to speak,” he added, knowing Blirrun often didn’t do well with hyperbole. He wondered if it was a cultural thing.

“Are you kidding me?” Carlotte asked as Jacen pocketed the comm and stood.

“What?” he said with a laugh, but she made it clear she wasn’t laughing.

“What do you mean, ‘what?’” she chastised him. “There’s a terrorist attack right there,” she said, jabbing an accusatory finger at the smoldering habit unit across the open air, “and you’re leaving your family.”

“Well, that’s the job,” he said, leaning in to plant a kiss on Lyra’s forehead. The girl giggled, not particularly fussed over the explosion or the commotion it had made on the Trentana’s terrace. “It’ll probably be a late night,” Jast said. “I’ll let you know what happens.”

“Fine, I-love-you-goodbye,” she said, rolling the words into one, and waved him off with an annoyed flick of the wrist. All the same there was a smile in her eye. Also on her face, but when Carlotte smiled she smiled from the eyes.

“I love you too,” he answered, and was off, pushing through the gawping crowd and making his way for the Trentana’s turbolift.

Nar Shaddaa

Garbella Memorial Starport, Hangar 141 - Jast

---

Jast nodded, giving Telsa a smile as she led their in-house slicing team away. Might have been premature to bring them on without getting in touch with Jacen first, but they needed to cover their bases both as fully as possible and as quickly as possible. The slicing team was only one of the bases, according to the plan. The team of bounty hunters was the second base.

"Right, the credits," Jast said, slipping his thumbs into his pockets. "You shoot as straight with that blaster as you do with the talk, I'm guessing you're gonna earn 'em. Just happens to be this is just the kind of job that needs your kind of expertise, too, which means a lot of credits. It's a hunt, more or less. We're tracking down a high level, low profile Pyxis Cartel asset, a scientist. The House is no joke, so we're going to need all the guns we can get, and an extra ship if we can get it. More than that, I need a bounty hunter, someone who can chase leads. People too.

"You've got a ship, more than a few guns, and the skills we need, Gleetch. I'm inclined to pay a lot for that. Three hundred thousand credits, if we bring in the target."

- - -

Garbella Memorial Starport, Turbolift Shaft 24 - The Mandalorian

---

"Ordo here," the Mandalorian said into the comm channel. Deklen stood in a rapidly descending turbolift, which, though large, was exceedingly cramped by a fully outfitted fire team of Sith soldiers and a handful of civilians too dumb or impatient to wait for the next lift. Maybe it was apathy.

The four black suited infantrymen, encased in milspec armor that would repel all but the heaviest and most sustained blaster fire, would have looked more at home on the front lines of the Galactic War than Nar Shaddaa. They stood out like anything on the Smuggler's Moon. Being noticed wasn't within Ordo's parameters of comfortable operation.

"Ordo, we are experiencing difficulties with our connections at the starport," Skadi's voice came through the commline. "The hangar is still open."

Ordo opened his mouth to pry into it, but thought better of it. "Orders?" he requested.

"Hold off until we can secure lockdown of the hangar," Skadi said. The turbolift came to a stop, and the doors slid open. Ordo and his team stepped out into Garbella Memorial Plaza, a massive, multilevel shopping center that would have been a city-square on another world, but on Nar Shaddaa was another passing fixture of the ecumenopolis.

"Negative, Command, we are in the open," Ordo responded. They were bound to be spotted. Four hulking, heavily armed Sith soldiers were no common sight on the streets of Nar Shaddaa, and as lost in the crowd you could get, you couldn't escape being noticed with friends like these. "We stand to lose the quarry entirely if we don't move right now," he added.

"Stand down until starport control cooperates with our directives, Ordo, that's an order." Until starport control cooperates, he noted. They'd forgotten to pay the rent, and the lights had gone out. Nar Shaddaa had rules and laws, and ways to wade through them. It took deftness, cunning, and an ability to respect the system while at the same time taking advantage of it. The Sith had no respect for the system. They'd expected to beat it into submission, and were now floundering in the face of uncooperative bureaucrats. If only the Republic had the Hutts on its side during the war.

Imperial Intelligence was not achieving lockdown on Garbella Memorial today, or any day, until they paid their betters their due.

Ordo shut off the comms, drew his blaster, and picked up the pace, pushing through the plaza crowds as he made way for Hangar 141. His four armored shadows followed suit.

[Approved] Jor'Kai Aurvandil, Ace Pilot

<Snipped quote by Jackdaw>

Obviously I was referencing Jedi Master Jesus Christ smh

@Deus Mortis

o well carry on champ