#galactics.task

zugzwang (german, n.) - a situation where every possible move or decision is a bad one, or one that will result in damage or loss

although it had been weeks since the riots had first hit the streets of coruscant as news of the emperor’s death had spread like wildfire across the galaxy, the streets were no more calm than they had been on the night it had first gone public. mas amedda was hiding somewhere, and troopers were thick in the streets, trying to maintain control. not peace: only power. it was only a matter of time before security was increased, undoubtedly because of how important coruscant remaining an imperial word was, and so second sister had been sent with another team of purge troopers. they excelled at riot control. 

still, the numbers of people fighting back against the empire only seemed to grow. the angry mob was fighting back against the purge troopers and the inquisitor watched the others work, waiting to step in only as needed. but the distraction seemed to strike just at the right time, moments away from withdrawing her blade. 

a familiar face. one thought to be long dead, just like trilla suduri.

hello all !  this weekend, the admins are coming at you with a new plot to progress the movement of the plot along.  there is no set time limit on it, but ideally this will play out across the dashboard and interactions over the course of the next two to three weeks.  all members are encouraged to include their muses however they can, but we understand that it may not be viable, as it is primarily the rebellion vs. the empire.  however, news of it will quickly spread across the galaxy !

additionally, beneath the event you will find an optional task.  this is unrelated to the event itself and therefore open to all muses, regardless of affiliation !

location: maz’s castle, takodana

rebellion goal:  find the defector and the datacube, return both safely to the resistance.

on the lush planet of takodana, maz’s castle remains a neutral safe for many in the war –– so hopes a recent imperial defector with the promise of a datacube on the empire’s hold over kashyyk, promising the information to the rebellion & new republic in exchange for clemency.  initial reports indicate that rebellion spy apollo corren has assisted in storying vital information related to the empire’s weaponry encrypted on the datacube.

han solo has been tasked with acquiring the information for the wookies & the rebellion.  but of course, trouble strikes !  imperial patrols quickly catch on, ready to fight to protect the information at all costs.  much to maz’s dismay, the rebellion quickly sends assistance with commander iden versio leading a fleet of ships to assist general solo & ensure the information is safely delivered to the rebellion.

imperial goal:  protect the datacube at all costs.  dispatch the defector.

stormtroopers posted on takodana fight back against the rebellion presence, however, they are quickly outnumbered and overwhelmed !  while it seems though the assistance they gain is too late … pouring through the wreckage of the fight, particularly an x-wing shot out of the air, imperial agents come across a datacube of their own.  the datacube contains information about the location of a private rebellion shipyard, where many pilots & mechanics alike flank to.

She barely held herself back from rushing towards him straight away, the sight alone bringing a fluttering of familiarity and hope to her heart. 

Could he really be here? Could he have somehow found his way into the past too? Or was she simply imagining what she wanted to see? There had been times, too many to count, when dreams slipped past her, longing to see him, or even Cere or Greez, where reality hadn’t been quite clear enough. Times when she had thought, at least for a moment, that she had seen a glimpse of him. But each time it had been fleeting and her hope quickly squelched. The same hair, the same stature, but it was never him.

But he lingered in the distance, and she could see his face now. Oh, it looked like him, too much like him. Either he had truly found his way to the past or she was officially losing her mind.

She had no control over her body now. She was running before she could ever process it, chasing after that figure that stood there still, that only became clearer with each step she took. It was him, it had to be.

Her arms were wrapped around him before she could even think to find words, eyes clenched shut as she simply held onto him, desperately clinging onto that one part of her past, of the future, that one thing that felt like home.

“Cal,”  it was all she could manage to get out, her voice was muffled against him, and she couldn’t seem to take in anything but the fact he was there. That maybe she wasn’t so alone now after-all.

The chilled plastic of the mask lay against his face solidly after he’d tied it underneath where his hair was pulled into a high bun of waves. He’d taken a page from Padmé’s book he’d left two small pieces to fall to the front loose and free and present even over the mask. With a sad smile at that move hidden by the mask itself, he moved through the halls of what had been the Jedi temple at one point. He could remember running after Ahsoka down that hallway jeering her laughing the whole way to the training grounds, watching Quinlan tease Obi-Wan by that bench about something small, there was the place where he’d hidden when the dreams of his mother and of Padmé had gotten too strong. 

The force screamed even now as he wandered slowly closer and closer to where the din of talking grew louder. It screamed in through his ear while also looping around his brain before it sent what felt like questing fingers around his lungs. He’d seen so many fall in these halls. People who had raised had helped him, people who had talked behind his back, those who were just as complicit in the fall of the Galaxy as him in their own ways. 

A Galaxy that was now his. Or would be once he engineered the fall of Mas Amedda, someone who he was shocked was still alive. Though the other did always seem to keep up with politics well though if that was the man himself or the cultural influence of his species was something Anakin didn’t know. Shaking his thoughts off as if they were a grasp he was reluctantly caught in he strode quickly to what he assumed had been the room of a thousand fountains. It wasn’t as green as it had been processed as his first thought on the room, as Anakin took in the soft music and the soft of gently falling water under the sounds of people talking that it faded into a thing where individual words were rare to pick up.

 It wasn’t too different though the ground had been replaced with some type of shiny mineral and there were fewer platforms in the air with water falling from them but on the larger one you could see guests talking quietly or dancing in a slow graceful circle. It made something inside of him yearn to have been able to have Padmé in his arms like that. Seen. Happy together. But that was someone else's life, not his, and not Vader’s. 

Anakin walked through the crowd of people milling around on the base level to get over to the clearly sectioned off area where Emperor and his closest cabinet members stood while those who worked the event drifted in and out of the background. With a smirk, he grabbed a drink off of a platter that drifted by him. Biding his time and sipping slowly he watched couples twirling past, their formal wear flashing by in all colors of the rainbow, as the liquid in his glass slowly started to disappear and the taste of pears coated his mouth.

It was strange he decided as a dark green Rodian slipped past his thoughts once more ruminated over the dying words that had been spat at him. He’d been called sith shit before and had never ever wanted to live up to them yet here he stood in a room that had fascinated him since he’d arrived at the temple with his resolve burning as strong as his saber. He would do this as was his right and while he loved knowing those he loved were alive it wasn’t enough. It was time to go back and fix it before Sidious, and that was who he was Palpatine had only been a frightfully good mask, ever got his wrinkly little hands-on Anakin’s younger self. 

With sure and confident steps, he made his way into the bubble of importance as he mentally referred to Mas Amedda’s posse in his head, setting the glass down on a table as he passed,  his hand quickly sunk into his hidden pocket within his jacket to withdraw it. The cool metal of its hilt met his black leather glove and it seemed to him that his steps echoed off the mineral floors but he knew that was his brain becoming even more aware of his surroundings in the force sharpening his senses in preparation for a possible fight.

As he got closer he could hear their voices easier as they talked and laughed about how the Empire might have lost ground briefly but it would gain it all back with their plans. He stopped for a second as he recognized the person walking away from the Emperor’s table after serving them all drinks. Iden Versio. His spy and helper became a traitor. If she were here that meant the Rebellion had to be involved since she was clearly attempting to be undercover. Fuck. Was she alone? If she wasn’t who would be here? If they tarnished his plan he’d be pissed. His anger boiled up and irises melted from blue to a sickly yellow as his steps started up once more at a faster pace, glancing around attempting to quickly absorb any possible familiar faces. 

Seeing him coming two of the troopers tried to contain him by gruffly demanding this area was for those known to the Emperor personally. Too bad for them Anakin’s saber was drawn with the ignition being flipped mid slice across the first troopers plastoid armor causing their body to hit the floor with a thud as he threw his saber in the air only to catch it in a backward grip hand. Sliding his hand backward in a fast jerk, the blade slid into the second trooper’s torso with sickening ease. A second body hit the floor like a large rock in a body of water causing silence to spread like the waves on the surface. 

He had their full attention. 

Roguishly smiling at the silent crowd before he turned the gently humming saber off, keeping it loosely in his hand, “Lovely night, isn’t it Amedda? Long time, no see?” Chuckling as he stepped, and kicked a hand off his foot from where it had hit after it had hit the floor the plastoid leaving a short squealing sound in the silence making more than a few wince or cringe at the noise. “Don’t recognize me very well? That’s okay, it seems too many are used to me being in a larger suit. One that was likened to a dark shadow by some and others for its oh so annoying labored breathing. I just wanted to stop by for a visit to say the rumors of my death have been greatly exaggerated!” His voice echoed and bounced off the walls eerie in its rough cheerfulness between the water’s gentle roar against the rocky basins. 

“Seems as though that strength I carried has been sorely missed,” he brushed past the clearly in shock Amedda who had already drunk more than half of whatever Versio had given him. Anakin hoped it hurt. The man had stood around without a spine for over twenty years bowing to every whim of the law instead of finding the paths to actually help. Again, politicians didn’t seem all that proactive to him. The only ones he’d ever known to want to be proactive was Padmé and Bail Organa. And even Padmé hesitated on some things, saying that the ‘’proper’’ channels were needed first.