#galactics.start

Luke felt his eyes droop as his head rested in the palm of his hand as he slowly sipped on the drink he had before him. He had sat in this place for what felt like days, though he supposed it was a few hours at most. He had been told that someone would meet him here with information about the ancient Jedi texts. But he was getting quite tired, and truly wished his contact would arrive soon. 

He felt someone approach him before he heard the stool scratch against the floor. He perked up slightly, looking at the person, before speaking up.

“I suppose traffic must have been bad?”

“I... I see it. It all seemed such nonsense to me before, but I can see it now.” Hux is addressing no one, or perhaps the chandelier. Movement catches his attention. Hux spins toward the person beside him and stares, eyes blown wide to take in all of the everything just being all around him.

“The way the light moves around you, it’s... it’s in you. It’s in everything. The Force.”

high fashion and extravagance had been one of padmé’s many reputations during the years of the separatist crisis and clone wars. with the recent, public news about her own kidnapping, maintaining a bit of privacy had been the natural and safe thing to do while she physically recovered and mentally... well, tried to do the same. but she could not hide away, not them win by living in fear. perhaps it was silly, or childish, to throw a party like this. but she looked as though she had been pulled directly from a painting, dripped in gold like some kind of goddess. it was a high end soirée, as if her recent tragedy had not impacted her.

Adni felt it had been about a hundred years since she had stepped foot off base. Of course that was just an exaggeration, but she was more than enthusiastic to complete the menial task recently assigned to her if it granted them the illusion of freedom for the time being. They had convinced their master she would be more effective without the constant watch of stormtroopers but she knew she was being tracked in one way or the other. The First Order wouldn’t risk her running off from them again.

She decided to take a short break from her errand, finding a datapad, some sort of local publication, and deciding to look through the information it held. Maybe it would be relative to her task, but even if not, it would surely entertain her. There was no rush, especially with no interplanetary communication for the time being, they had been instructed to wait on this planet until a battery of x-wings would escort her ‘home’. She could finish her chore on her own time.

Looking up from the datapad, she saw a figure nearby she hadn’t originally noticed. 

---“Oh, I’m sorry, was this yours?” 

 It felt like mere moments, the Sith Lord had been on Scarif, Tenebrous standing over them as the last bits of their life slipped from their fingers, and then....then they had been waking up in a museum on Raxus Secondus named for the Char family. It seemed that someone had been kind enough to turn their collection into an art gallery which was maintained using the family’s fortune....Stassam’s fortune. Though it didn’t take much work, no one could deny that they were the last living member of the Char Family, that error was corrected and the accounts were restored to their rightful owner. The identity that was Stassam Char would have to serve Asmodeus for now, their identity as a Sith was never uncovered, and in the current time no one would question the return of a very wealthy, and very young looking for their age, art collector.

What had seemingly been a blink was actually a span of a century. The plan that Asmodeus had begun designing had fell into ruin because of the selfish nature of their successors. Apparently the Lord they would be the Great-Grandmaster of, Sidious had put his own selfish desires before that of the Order of the Sith, he had moved to prevent the natural flow of the Rule of Two and consolidate all power public and private in himself. Asmodeus could see how their plans could have been warped into this design, Tenebrous had killed them far too soon. 

Stassam sat, musing to no one, and everyone all at once. “Republic, Galactic War, Empire, Civil War, Republic once again. Though still a fledgling one, it makes you stop and wonder will this one persevere, and will it ever match the size, and power of the republic that came before? Or will we have another Emperor soon?” 

How long had it been since he had stepped foot on the surface of Coruscant without any malicious intent behind his actions? Surely it had been far too long. A planet so beautiful had once been on his destruction list but he's finding himself glad that it had survived. He makes his way towards the café, after all, he's here for leisure and pleasure and nothing beyond that. He's done with the war for today. No talks of such, no thoughts of it, either, he'd much rather be here, enjoying the sun and a cup of coffee outside. He takes a seat once he's arrived at the café and has placed an order, but what he's not expecting is the company. Dark gaze shifts upward, looking toward the new comer with mild interest. "Well, if you're not here about the war or the sides, take a seat and order a drink. I'll accept the company."