Ord CantrellThe Assasins Nakia Yoru and Sint Yoru did not care about the Imperial Remnant. They had lived through times when the very notion of an empire was centuries away and they would live on for centuries after the current leaders would be long forgotten. They were Anzati and this was the way it was supposed to be. All they cared about were each other, the soup of their victims and a challenge.
The two assassins.
And the security system of the Remnant had been a great challenge indeed. It had taken them one month and all of their experience to even attach their cloaked shuttle to the outer hull of the luxury suite. Had the Imperial Council not departed, they would not even have gotten near the suites. But with the council at the Core alliance signing, air patrols and security personnel had been reassigned to the Skyhook, with Ord Cantrell security being rather diminished. Taken advantage of that fact, their shuttle had managed to sneak near the luxury complex housing the Ruling council.
Attaching their shuttle to the outer hull had been another challenge. For the hull was clustered with contact sensors and beams of light swept the building in a seemingly irregular pattern, destroying everything in their path. It had taken them another month of observation before they finally managed to break the computer pattern that set up the light beams and managed to program their shuttle to avoid them. The contact sensors had then been put out of commission by placing small forcefields around them, making sure that no thing would come in contact with them.
Breaking into the suite had been another challenge. The suite was clustered with sensors that monitored even the slightest change in air and inner pressure. Only by setting up a precise anti-pressure field had they been able to make sure their cutting into the hull would not be recognized. To prevent any change in air, they breathed through breathing apparatus. The motion sensors inside the suite had been another problem, but as Anzati they could stand perfectly still for hours and days. When the council had finally returned and the Baroness-designate entered the suite, they made perfectly clear they only moved after she had entered the suite, thereby disabling the motion sensors. Feena D'Asta's sense of privacy had played into their hand – for the audio and camera sensors had been shut off as she did not appreciate being watched or recorded in her private rooms. Of course, there were sensors listening for a specific number of sounds – like a blaster being fired – but the Anzati assassin stun blaster was soundproof.
All of this had combined into the very unconscious bundle of flesh that was Feena D'Asta being carried off by two Anzati assassins into their shuttle. Getting off the planet was surprisingly easy for them – the system after all was designed to keep spacecrafts
out, not
in. It only took them four hours of precision flying to get into a major spacelane, attach themselves to a container transport carrying holonet parts and detaching as soon as the transport had cleared the atmosphere.
(a container transport)
Only then did they devote some attention to their prey. “Sint, her soup....I can smell it from here. It is delicious.” If Nakia had one weakness, it was to kill a target instead of capturing it alive. Sint knew this, but he did not particularly care about it. “I want it.”
Nakia had almost invaded Feena's brain with her proboscises when her husband knocked her away. Before she could say anything, Sint produced a scanner. “Be careful, my darling. These Imperials are devious people...I heard something about a special security system against us which all high-ranking Remnants had been implanted with. Let me check....”
He ran the scanner over the head of the still unconscious baroness. After a while, the scanner beeped. “There, you see? A single lining of outer brain cells have been modified...most likely now carrying a poison engineered to only affect us. If you had even touched her brain....” He did not need to finish the thought. Nakia composed herself. “I owe you my life once more, husband of mine.” She hugged him, which he returned. “I suppose I shall have to restrain myself. What a pity.”
Sint smiled at her expression of misely, looking like a young child whose favorite pet had just died. “Don't pity yourself, my love. From our reward, I shall buy you a nice slave to drain.” “You are too good for me, darling.”
About half an hour later, they met at the Rendezvous point and handed the still unconscious Feena D'Asta wrapped in a holding blanket over to the Marauder corvette of Sol Mon, which then raced to Smarck at top speed, where Grappa and Macus Kayniph were anxiously waiting to meet their prisoner.
(Sol Mon, leader of Grappa the Hutt's pirate gang.)
Ord Cantrell
Outside Feena D'Astas suite
two hours laterMoff Saenger and Mirith Sinn were pacing outside. “Are you sure she did not go out already?” Saenger asked the guards once more. If they were bored and rolling their eyes at his admittedly dumb question, it didn't show for they were wearing their helmets. “Yes, Sir. Lady D'Asta entered the suite seven standard hours ago and has not exited it since.”
Strange, Saenger thought. For about six years now, he and Feena had always had breakfast together and since two years, this breakfast had been expanded to include Feena's childhood friend Mirith Sinn. And not once had Feena missed a breakfast without calling to reschedule.
“Are you sure she is alright, Mirith?” “Yes, Jurang. I checked with security and the audio sensors were clear of any alarming noises.” “Wait, audio only?” Mirith looked at him incredulously. “Tell me you did deactivate the visual sensors in your suite.” “No. Should I have?” “Unless you want to give a third-rate technician a free show every morning, then yeah, you should have.” Saenger looked her over. “I think he'd rather watch you than me.” “True, which is why I did deactivate them. And unless you do too, I am not going to be take part in any of your late-night meets anymore.”
Said meets usually consisted of large amounts of drinks, ancient opera and assorted drink-induced behaviour of usually at least one member of the trio. “Ah, c'mon. Even sensor techs need some enjoyment.” Mirith glared at him. “Well, they can get it from someone else. And kriff this, I am going in.”
She keyed in her intelligence override code and walked in, with Saenger in tow. And as soon as they saw the discarded clothing on the floor, their moods went from amusement to worry. It was not like Feena at all to leave
anything lying around on her floor, whether it be an item of clothing, a datapad or a drunk friend of hers.
“Feena?” Mirith Sinn drew her holdout blaster and motioned for the guards to follow, while Saenger studied the room. They both noticed that a section of the wall had been cut and reinserted about the same time. Saenger froze, his mind assaulted with memories, whereas Mirith sprung into action. “Guards. Sound the alert. Systemwide grounding of all spacecraft. The planetary shield is not to be lowered. All ships to be searched immediately. GO.”
As the guards raced away and fulfilled her orders, Mirith tugged at the sleeve of Moff Saenger, who had gone ashen. “C'mon, we have got to tell the Baron.” As she was about to half-guide, half-drag him to the exit, the Moff snapped out of it. “I have to tell you a story that only the Baron, Feena and I know about....”
Quote:
Coruscant, Imperial Palace
Year 7 ABYAs she looked over the nightlife of Coruscant, Feena D'Asta always felt a sense of wonder. To her, coming from a world of farming collective whose only other exports were starships, Coruscant was a miracle of Imperial might and civilization. A planet that never slept, a planet that spent more energy on lights than entire fleets did expend in a battle.
However, another miracle of Imperial might awaited her. And this one was definitely not one of civilization. Instead, it was exactly the sort of dishonourable things the current ruler of Coruscant, Ysanne Isard, was famous for. Feena had survived so far by forming a tentative alliance with Isard and not giving her an excuse to sieze the D'Astan shipyards, something the ship-hungry dictator desperately wished to do as she wasted aways the Imperial fleet in hopeless strategic blunders. And now she had to prevent giving her that excuse. And by prevent, she meant neutralising the person who might have given her that excuse.
She nodded at the D'Astan guard stationed next to the entry. “Bring in my...guest.” The guard saluted and within seconds, her problem stood before her.
It had been all too easy to give Isard an excuse. All it took was a research grant. From the vast fortune he owned, her father had seen it fit to grant the university of Charmath's historical facility – the best of its kind in the galaxy – a small sum to finance historical studies in military strategy. One of those studies had been made by one Jurang Saenger, who had chosen to analyze the military studies of ancient empires long gone. The only problem had been that somehow, in the 4500 page work he had handed in, he had described the situation of an empire without its head, being slowly ruined by the workings of the insane mistress of the former Imperator. Which apparently had caused a jealous person who had not received the grant to denounce him as insulting Isard. The charge was without any proof, but in these times one did not need proof.
None of this would have involved her if she had not signed off on it. Of course the study had been submitted to her as acting head of the house for review and usually her father would read the lengthy work and then comment on it, but he had to have another operation and she simply did not have the time.
Which meant that her signature was on a work that – if read with the eyes of a paranoid madwoman, which Isard certainly was – insulted her and accused her of dereliction of duty. So Feena had to fix it, even if it meant destroying every record of this ever existing. Which also meant having the good doctor disappear. Which resulted in the good doctor being "invited" to join her for the purposes of discussing his work. But Feena was not the kind of person who would force someone to be shipped off to a remote outpost on her whim. Of course she would do it, but her conscience told her she should at least talk to him and explain why she was destroying his life.
Which is why Jurang Saenger was now standing in front of her. “Doctor.” “Mylady.” The greeting was polite, if only Feena thought she detected a trace of venom in it. “You know why you are here?” Saenger shrugged. “I can imagine.”
Feena slammed down the datapad containing the work. “What in the name of all that is good possessed you to write it?” “I never thought some individuals were so literacy-challenged that they would think I was making a disguised personal insult on your behalf.” He grinned. “Usually my insults are more direct. And I am guessing you did not read it that way either because you signed off on it.”
Feena's reply was blunt. “I did not read it.” Saenger's smile vanished. “Oh.” “Do you think I would have the time for reading a work that large? Do you think I have that much time of leisure.” Saenger demured. “No, I suppose not.” The two looked into each other's eyes for a while.
“Now, here is what will happen. You will be taken to - “ “Forgive me, mylady.”
This interruption came from a member of the Coruscant guard.
(The Coruscant guard, elite stormtroopers dedicated to defending the Imperial Palace.)
“Yes, trooper.” Feena's voice was straight, but inside she cursed herself.
Isard has already found out. The trooper entered and then stood at attention. “Forgive me, mylady, but you have to come with us. Sources indicate that the rebels will stage an attack on Coruscant and we have orders to escort you to a safer place.”
Relief and doubt flooded Feena's mind.
Can it be that this is a ruse? Is Isard toying with me? Or have I dodged the blow?. “Very well, I shall come with you. Doctor, I am sorry.” Strangely, Saenger nodded and gave a bow at the waist. A bow so deep that he could have almost kissed her feet. “Will you mind if I escort you to the shuttle?”
To say that Feena was confused would have been the understatement of the year.
Is he trying to get me killed? But before she could respond, Saenger had already taken her arm and the two had reached the door, where they were joined by five more guard troopers. Her D'Astan guard was nowhere to be seen.
Just by accident, Burr Nolyds, a wealthy noble who had bribed his way to the heart of power on Coruscant, turned the corner with his cadre of bodyguards. And as he passed the two of them, Saenger suddenly yanked the arm he was holding, causing her to lose her balance and the two of them crashed to the floor in a split second, him covering her, with Saenger yelling “Imposters” from the top of his lungs.
Both parties froze. Then suddenly, as if on command, the corridor lit up with blasterbolts.
The next time Saenger opened his eyes, he noticed three things. 1 – he was in a hospital bed covered with bacta patches, 2 – his shoulder ached and 3 – the Lady D'Asta was reading what appeared to be his study. He smiled and tried to say “fascinating read?” but due to his sore throat he croaked more than actually said the words. This however was enough for her to reach over and give him some water to drink through a straw.
“You are awake. Good.”
“What happened?” “You were right and I owe you my life.” “Might I trade it in for mine?” Feena laughed.
After a short, but comfortable period of silence, she asked: “How did you know they were imposters?” “I am a student of history and I once read that the protocol of the Coruscant guard was derived from the guard protocol of the Empress Theta. Which says that when entering a room, the guard has to keep an honour guard both inside and outside the doorway. They did do so from the outside, but only one trooper went into the room. I am guessing they either did not have the manpower or were to busy making your guards disappear.” “So you were gambling on something that you once read and you were willing to commit assault on the person of an Imperial Council member?” “That and the guardsman had the tiniest bit of blood on his left shoe, which is why I bowed so very low to verify that it was not a simple colouring mistake of the armour.” “Impressive.” “And they say men don't look at shoes.” Another smile by the Baroness-designate. “Can you fill me in what happened after I dragged you to the floor? I blacked out.”
Feena nodded. “Apparently the kidnappers were better shots than Nolyds and his bodyguards, who all perished. But the sound of the blaster shots alarmed the real Imperial guards, who showed up just in time to see you get vibroknifed in the shoulder as the kidnappers were trying to pull you off me. Suffice to say their aim was a lot better.”
“That explains why my shoulder hurts so much. Why didn't they blast me and who were those guys?” "Whoah. Slow down." Feena laughed. "As for your first question, they apparently wanted me alive and therefore couldn't blast you, as you were lying on top of me. As for your second, we do not know. They were professionals, that one is for sure. Their ship got away – we do not know who was on board. And two days after this the Rebels conquered Coruscant, so we will likely never know." "Coruscant – but how..." Feena pointed at the study. "Ah. The insane mistress who ruins the empire." "Exactly." "If we are not on Coruscant, then were are we?" "We are on the way to Nez Peron, in my private marauder corvette."
Saenger nodded then remembered something. “Why Nez Peron?” Feena nodded. “Because my father wants to meet you and he wants to personally give you a crash course in politics. Not that you probably need it, judging from your work, but that is his way of showing gratitude, shower you with more work – and he likes to talk to a fellow student of history.”
Saenger smiled. “So you did eventually read my work?” “I did. And I liked it, even though the prose is repetitive, too analytical and filled with obscure references of which I only get half, never mind my general ignorance about the subject.” “So you like it.” “I love it.” The two smiled at each other, then Feena squeezed his hand, her eyes silently saying thanks, and then left. As she was almost at the door, Saenger remembered that she had mentioned something else. “But why do I need a crash course in politics?”
Feena did not even pause but called out over her shoulder: “Because you have been drafted to serve as my new aide.”
Saenger stopped as they had reached the suite of Baron D'Asta. “Intelligence later suspected that Black Sun was behind it, but the evidence was not conlcusive – and most of it was lost when Coruscant fell, anyway.”
And then they went in to tell a father that his daughter was missing.
Ord Cantrell
Imperial Ruling Council
Emergency sessionThe council had convened as soon as the Baron had composed himself. Most of the councillors had been awakened when the Red Guard had stormed their suites or when the Security forces had suddenly appeared at their workstations. There had been no incidents except when Mahd Windcaller had thought a coup would take place and dropped the first three guards who had entered her suite with her Echani skill. Consequently, the guards had no other alternative than to stun her before she could get to a blaster. Now she was nursing a few bruises and glaring at the commanding General of Ord Cantrell forces, who was sweating nervously enough. Being summoned by the council was bad enough, but being summoned after such a spectacular failure was worse.
Instead of the Regent, Mirith Sinn opened the meeting. This was unusual enough as she was a non-voting member and usual did not even speak unless spoken too.
“At approximately 07:10 hours, Moff Saenger and I discovered that the Lady D'Asta was not in her suits. Security forces were immediately notified, but a search has been unsuccesful so far.” Sinn paused before coming to her conclusion. “There is no other possibility than an abduction or assassination.”
The council was shocked. Several voices started at once: “What do you mean, abducted?” “Where was security?” “Are we at war?”
Sinn continued, her command voice cutting through the fray. “For the moment, I have ordered extra security for every other councillor. That is all.”
Moff Saenger started to speak, but Ragez D'Asta motioned him to be quiet. When he spoke, the room immediately was silent. “Commander Sinn will use all methods of Imperial Intelligence at her disposal and lead the search and rescue effort. Everybody will extend the deepest cooperation to her. Anything she wants from either of you, she gets. Lord Praji.”
Marshal Praji rose and stood to attention. “Regent?” “The Imperial military is hereby ordered to go to combat alert. All Imperial units not detached to other duties are to be ready for an immediate strike.”
Praji's spine stiffened. “Yes, Regent. Any particular target?” “Your target will be whoever Commander Sinn determines to be responsible.” Praji nodded. “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Marshal Jir.” “Sir.” “You will review the security arrangements for Ord Cantrell and determine whether General Eidone has failed in his duty.” “Yes, Sir.” The general, who commanded the red guard, almost sighed with relief until D'Asta announced. “If he did fail, he is to be punished as a traitor to the Remnant.” “Yes, Sir.”
“Good. Any questions?”
“What about our allies? Shall we tell them?” Saenger raised the question nobody dared to answer. “I mean, obviously we have to keep this a secret, but what about our allies?”
The Baron nodded. “Very well. Communiques to the CORE leaders, for their eyes only. Tell them what happened. We may go to war, but urge them to keep this secret.”
“Mahd Windcaller. You are our holonet expert. You will create a holoimage of my daughter, to be used in diplomatic broadcasts. Nobody should find out what happened. Use family holos if needed.”
The Regent paused. “As for the rest, continue fulfilling your duties. Thank you for your service. Meeting dismissed.”
Without pause, the Baron walked out, followed by Saenger and Sinn. Gaeriel Captison started to go after the Baron, but was stopped by Marshal Praji's hand. “Don't, Prime minister.” His touch was soft and for once completely non-threatening. “You were about to go and offer your support, weren't you? Do you have children, Prime Minister?” Gaeriel shook her head. “I do, Prime Minister. And while I do not know if I had his nerves, I sure as hell would not wish to hear empty words of comfort if something like this had happened to my Tyla. Let his friends handle it and let us do our duty the best we can so that he does not have to worry about that, at least.”
After looking into his eyes and finding no hidden meaning, Gaeriel nodded.
Results: - More exposition and fluff regarding the abduction. Also an explanation for why Gaeriel was not abducted in 7 ABY, as in the OTL.
- The Imperial military prepares for war
- communique sent to the current members of the Core Alliance:
Quote:
To: His Imperial Manticoran Majesty Emperor James I Manticore, Emperor of the Star Empire of Manticore, His Imperial Majesty, Aeron Bell, Emperor of the Second Corellian Empire and Supreme Commander, Imperial Corellian military, His Excellency Admiral Rowan, Head of State and Commander in chief of the Core Protectorate
FOR YOUR EYES ONLY
From: The Imperial Ruling Council, Imperial Remnant.
It is our sad duty to inform you since this morning, Baroness-designate Feena D'Asta has been missing. An abduction or assassination cannot be ruled out. Imperial Intelligence has been assigned to the case. We would be grateful for any assistance that can be made in secret, such as datafiles and dossiers on known asassins.
We request that you keep the contents of this message secret and do not share it with anyone.
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