Foerost

The blazing stars seemed to flicker in her grey eyes like a multitude of bonfires. Casimir let her eyes drift down from the night sky towards the steaming cup of caf in her hand. Dawn will be here in a few hours. She took a sip from the cup and set it back down on the table. And with it, the election results. The coffee-skinned woman picked out a set of glittering stars. And the stars foretell my defeat. And with it, any hope for Foerost’s survival. Letting out a sigh, President Harloch (if only for a few more hours) strolled down the stone-paved paths of the luscious Presidential Gardens. She plucked an orange orchid from foliage as dense as durasteel. And yet you little one survive in that bramble of thorns. And so shall I. Not for my own sake, but for that of Foerost. Foerost needs me. And it will get me.

“Miss President?”

Casimr spun about on her heel with a knowing smile. “Come now Kristof, you know I hate being startled…”

The Revolutionary Guard commander merely smiled. “Well miss, I never try…”

“Pish-posh,” grinned the woman, “but tell me, what can I do for you?”

The alien hesitated. “It’s rather what I can do for you. Pre-liminary exit polls say that we’re going to lose the election…”

“They have been wrong in the past…”

“And they will be wrong now,” stated the commander, “the people do not realize what is at stake here. You cannot simply demobilize a military when you are surrounded by enemies…and I admit that I’m surprised that they have not supported your social welfare problems with much zeal.”

“My faithful are still with us,” said the President, “the stars tell me as much. It is unfortunate that we will have to cheat to survive. But the ends justify the means, I guess.”

“There will be allegations-”

“And there will be allegations and recounts,” added Casimir, “believe me. I know what we’re getting into, and do not trouble yourself. The courts and the review council are on our sides politically. They cannot fully wrench us away from duty.”

“And force is on your side,” pledged Kristof, “I will mobilize our loyal militia and the police if it comes to riots.”

“You may have to do more than that.”

“Activate the droid armies?” questioned Kristof, “if nothing else, we can depend on their loyalty I suppose.”

She let a wan smile crease her face. “Sometimes its hard to know who’s on your side. Come, walk with me a little longer.”

Harloch neatly tucked the orchid flower into the top of the alien’s suit.



The next day…

“Liars! HOW CAN YOU-”

The young man had barely completed the statement before he hit the plaza’s duracrete pavement. What the hell? He stumbled up, dazed and confused. And all he saw around him was red: the color of the Couric Party. We should be elsewhere…in their congress, in their Presidential Manor. His bleary eyes struggled to make the riot policeman who had just beat him back. The line of shields and stun batons formed a literal phalanx around the Presidential Manor. Stones flew at them, and tear gas grenades flew out of them. Some odd system of reciprocity was at work here, but what exactly it was, Mike had yet to figure out. All around him, the disharmonious chorus of chanting and yelling continued to break out at full blast. A dizzy smile wrinkled his face. Yeah, they know we’re pissed now, even that tight-pants President Harloch and her lapdog…Kristof…you had all these guys here at daybreak. You knew we were coming…but how? You knew about the election fraud…she would trust you enough to tell you that…and to save her own hide.

“Citizens of Foerost, stand united!” demanded a thunderous presence.

Mike jerked his head about to face the speaker: a somewhat pudgy man with a thin, bearded face. There’s the man of the hour, Lucius del Styx. The Couric Party candidate raised his hands in acknowledgement of the cheering and clapping around him. He lowered them again, attempting to silence the crowd, but a drone of murmurs and sporadic shouts permeated the piled up mass of a crowd. He cleared his throat.

“whether you are a Couric, a green, even a supporter of Harloch, know that this is Foerost gravest hour in millennia. Invaders have come and gone, foreign governments rise and fall all around us, but Foerost has always survived because it faithfully followed the will of its informed public. An informed public which has been swept away without regard for constitutional rights or common sense morality. Let it never be said that I do not doubt that Harloch has had good intentions for Foerost when she first entered office. I admit to even voting for her. But things have changed, and so has she-”

A crescendo of screams and yells cut off his speech as a brigade of Revolutionary guards charged into the crowd of protesters. Del Styx paled and scampered off his impromptu stage. Mike swore. Frak the Guard. And frak me. With thousands of other protesters, he fled the scene of the crime.



Passenger Liner Adjuvant Savior, en route to Foerost

This is without a doubt the most lethal passenger liner in the core. And it’s not because it’s been repainted sky blue. Sturm glanced about him. And I want to trade seats, that Wookie smells. The three-hundred meter long passenger liner was completely packed with Alliance mission personnel. Perhaps the largest Alliance Special Operations team in history, but Foerost was a tall order. He glanced around him. Many volunteers and first-timers, but there are a couple of veterans around me. Let us hope that we don’t get vaped by a single turbolaser bolt. There go some hundreds of dedicated operatives. The former slave ship’s intercom buzzed.

“Attention passengers, we are about to exit to Foerost, please have your papers out, and your equipment in the designated smuggling compartments. Thank you for flying Alliance Air, where you get service free of charge. Most of the time.”

The liner exited hyperspace at the outskirts of Foerost into the midst of the system's heavy traffic. Sturm glanced around the people in his compartment. Sure, we don’t look blatantly like military types or have military gear around us…It’s just underneath our seats…now whose’ around here that I know?

Whisper awoke gently at 6 am Foerost Standard time. He sighed gently as he saw the sleeping form of President Harloch as he smiled and watched her rythmic breathing.


The things I do for my Alliance.... Whisper thought.

He slipped out of bed, showered, and dressed. He then looked at the datapad that his aide had set out detailing the latest security briefing. He had been flown in especially, because the President had feared for her own security. All these seperatists made her uneasy.

It didn't hurt that he was around 6'4 with deep blue eyes that women seemed to get lost in. It was no time at all before the President had fallen for him, and while he maintained his duties as her head of security, he had also become her lover.

Truth be told, it wasn't such a bad gig...she was an incredible lay, if a despicable person. He was exactly where the Alliance needed him to be, right on the inside, able to bring everything down at the drop of a hat.

"Andrew!" He could hear her sweet but viscious voice calling out to him from the bedroom.

"I'm right here, love... What did you need?" He rolled his eyes when he looked away from her, wondering sometimes how he managed to keep himself sane, playing with women the way he tended to.

"What do the reports say?" she asked in her normally wonderful voice.

"Trouble in the East Corridor, and, it appears that the droid armies are going to be a couple hours late. I've already admonished the captains of the vessells, but they say they'll have them here about 5 hours behind schedule.

"Also, I've been working on the transport routes so that we can sneak through without being mobbed by these frakking protestors..."

Aboard the Liner

A young girl yawned as she looked at a holographic pad; on it was an image of her second in command - relaying information that anyone not within the Serendivus wouldn't understand - after all, it was encrypted.

Lavality smiled as she listened to her XO drone on about the recovery efforts, they had gotten into a massive skirmish with pirates as they moved deeper into the outer rim. They hadn't lost as many ships as she had thought, but they still couldn't get out without losing some people.

With a sigh she put the pad away and got up from her seat. Amongst all of the alliance personnel, she was the smallest and had the physic of a twelve year old. It was a deceptive apperance, she had recalled the journey she had taken with Asri and the others to uncover her past. Realizing that Asri was, in fact, her mother and that she was an artificial being created to serve a crime lord.

She flexed her hand and smiled; she wore a blue robe that came down to just above her knees. The robe made it seem like she was on a trip somewhere, beneath the robe she wore what most would think was normal everyday attire, but beneath that was where she hid her call-sign. A body suit that was dark red, two lightsabres were snuggly placed into special holders. A third lightsabre, a two-bladed one, was hidden in a back pocket that she could readily get to if the need arrised. She knew the firepower might not be needed, but she didn't want to take any chances.

Standing next to the porthole; she crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot impatiantly.

The liner pulled into its slip at the Hajibar Veteran's Memorial Starport. Sturm's forest green eyes scanned the horizon. Looks pretty nice. Hajibar looks like comparitively green city compared to Coruscant...sure, it has skyscrapers and what not, but you can actually see the ground, and it gets light. By the maker, that's a miracle this deep in the Core...The liner rapidly decelerated, pressing the man into the back of his seat. Really? Must have a former fighter-jock in the cockpit...The ship ground to a complete halt, causing most of the heads of the passengers around him to rapidly snap back and forth. The intercomm buzzed again.

"Welcome to Hajibar..."

That's not our crew's voice...

"...my name is Elijah Cohir, and my team and I will be checking your passports and baggage. We look forward to meeting you all personally. However, I regret that our fine city is currently experiencing a slight public disturbance. For your own safety, we recommend that everyone stay away from the public demonstrations, lest they take you hostage, or you accidentally be identified as a violent offender and deported or imprisoned. Thank you for your understanding and patience..."

Sturm snorted. Yeah, now you could shut the frak up. And I hate to disappoint you, but I'm sort of a mob man. Within two minutes, two men wearing teal uniforms entered his compartment and quickly inspected all of the passports. Alexander eyed them carefully. They're not being that careful...obviously in a hurry, but why? One of the officers peeked out of the viewport, and hurriedly strode into the next compartment. Sturm glanced out of the viewport. That might do it. Several of the more violent protesters from the Couric campaign trying to break through a barrier of police landspeeders, which acted as a wall for a variety of police and other customs officers trying to hold them back from the airport. The remaining officer cleared his throat.

"You are all free to get off when your captain permits you too."

Most of the passengers murmured half-hearted thanks to the retreating man. Sturm let out a sigh. I can't disembark yet...the customs officers all have to leave so everyone can get their equipment out without attracting any unwarranted attention...except for a few people that don't have obvious objects to conceal. A quarter of the people rose from his cabin to walk off the ship. There goes the first wave for the liberation. He turned back to reading his datapad. Perhaps fifteen minutes later, the intercomm buzzed.

"All customs officers have left the ship. You may now disembark and pick up any extra lugguage you have in the bottom hold."

Next to no-one had any real luggage in the bottom hold, which was filled with civilian luggage recovered from a recently wrecked liner. Instead, everyone rose and pulled their extra equipment out of the hollow chairs in what appeared to be run of the mill civie luggage. The Alliance wasn't willing to risk the chance that someone was listening onto the ship's wireless communications. Thus, there would be no overt announcements about the mission, or any discussion of it until everyone was with their units at the units' individual safehouse. Sturm exited the craft with a duffel bag slug over his shoulder, and a briefcase in the other hand. Several others joined the resistance fighter, members of the squad that the Alliance had designated to protect Lucius del Styx, the Couric Party candidate who was leading the protests, or was at least their figurehead. The security team piled into a rental landspeeder at the edge of the space port and dissipated into the rest of the capital city's ground traffic.

Lavality scowled as she watched the officers leave; she could feel tension in the air from what was going on in the city. But it wasn't just that, she had a gut instinct that told her that everything was henging on a very thin thread. It could erupt at any moment she thought and watched as the security team left in a landspeeder.

She knew what her objective was - because of her stature and child like appereance, she could easily fit into a crowd of people and no one would suspect that she was apart of the detail to protect Lucius Del Styx.

With a grunt, she slipped her backpack on and walked a short distance from the liner. She looked like any other kid getting ready to head home after a long flight through space, but she kept one of her hands near her side, just inches away from her lightsabre and the other on the strap of her backpack.

When she got close to another landspeeder the lady at the controls gave her a curt nod and she got aboard. "Take me home," was all Lavality said before the landspeeder took and off became just one of many vehicles prowling the capitals roads.

Whisper stood and stretched, as he stepped outside surveilling the situation from President Harloch's balcony as she showered and dressed, and momentarilly joined him.

"To think that a world so beautiful as this is in constant strife...perhaps one day they will all come along to my way of thinking..." Harloch said with a sigh, putting her head on Whisper's shoulder.

"Yes, Ma'am...it would be delightful." Whisper could not contain his disdain, but, tried anyway, hoping that this assignment would make a motion towards the end sometime soon.

“What do you mean that there’s been a change in plans? A little late notice, huh?” swore Sturm, “they’re that much of a threat? I see, well, I’ll see what I can do. Right, I’ll talk to you later and tell you how things are going.”

Sturm tapped the comlink’s button and looked around the rest of the safehouse. Nearly three dozen people lounged around in the large rental home, most of them cleaning their weapons. He let out a sigh and raised his voice.

“Can I have your attention peoples? That includes you there with the-hey, don’t point that at me you lout,” teased Sturm, “there’s been a change in plans. Red team, with Lavality in charge, are still going to meet up with Lucian del Styx and protect him. The Revolutionary Guard is out hunting for him, so it’s going to be tough to find him to begin with. So you guys will be meeting a mutual contact called Shorty who will take you to him. The rest of you, blue team, you’ll be with me. We’re going to help del Styx by disrupting the Guard’s hunt against him. All right, let’s get going blue team.”

While some of them grumbled, Blue team piled out of the house with most of their weapons in their duffel bags. Sturm hopped into the driver’s seat of the cargo landspeeder, letting another Thyferran cell member hop into the seat next to him. Sturm gave the other man a smile.

“You think we’re ready for this op?”

“What the hell? We don’t even know what we’re doing,” complained Wavy, “what is Alliance High Command telling you now? They want us to contruct a new safe house, don’t they? Perhaps convert the presidential Palace, right?”

Sturm snorted. “A bit easier. Redecorate the Revolutionary Guard Headquarters. If the Guard’s administration and control go down, the guard is going to be rather demoralized and uncoordinated. That should help the protests continue and ensure that del Styx remains safe.”

“So that’s where were headed then, boss?”

“Yeah, we’ll at least have to check it out.”

The two landspeeders lurched away into the fading sunset of Foerost…



Back at the Presidential Palace…

“Come on love,” smiled Casimir, “we can’t let people like them get us down. There will always be naysayers. Come now.”

Casimir tugged at his arm, trying to pull him away from the balcony, “you’re going to have to get all dressed up for tonight. I’m hosting a party for our supporters in the old ballroom; have to keep their morale up until this whole things fade away. Then we get can everything back on track…”



Back at Red Team’s Safehouse…

A shorter man knocked at the door, wearing the green armband of the Couric Party.

(OOC: I am introducing a blank character, just for this thread. Maybe he will survive, who knows?)

Lorn Savio looked around him. Being in Casimir's guards was dangerous enough. Being a spy in Casimir's guards was just suicidal. He sighed. Why did I join up in the first place? Money. Revenge. The sky hung above. Its calm seemed to mock the dissention below. Fighting, always fighting. Elections are always the cause of a general rabble. Especially rigged ones. Unhealthy for a policemen. Deadly for a spy. What next? More fighting. More protests. General Chaos. He remembered the good old days. When a police man on Foerost could get his job done without being hated. It wasn't like that anymore. Especially not for him.

" Major sir." Lorn turned. Ferec's grinning face. Young boy. Just an officer. Should have stayed in school. Lorn didn't make friends nowadays, or try to remember faces. They all died to quickly.

" What is it Ferec?" Lorn's face was tight. Strained against the sun. That rabble down below. A sea of red. Had to keep an eye on them.

" Sir, you don't look to well. Maybe you should take a rest." Ferec's face was red, as usual. Lorn looked at himself. Thin, a little pale. It was all the guard searching. Casimir was getting paranoid. Lorn sighed again.

" I'll be fine. Thanks Ferec." Lorn looked out over the sea of red as Ferec saluted again. Was it worth it? The money made it more than that. But what did he feel. Who did he support? Lorn thought. He came up with no answer. He was just doing his job. The sea of red swelled and chanted insults. What motivated them? Why were they so enthusiastic about a cause that not many believed in. Maybe he should find a cause. Maybe this was his time to choose the right path. But which one was it. Lorn picked up the macrobinoculars. He would find out soon enough

One of the men on Lavalities team grunted. "Why is a kid in charge?" this man said as he got up and walked toward Lavality.

"I mean, what are you doing here anyway?" he bent down to her height. Lavality mentally cursed. She hated being half human, half trandoshan. Not only was she already feeling the coldness in the air much sooner than most, but she was already getting a bad vibe of this all. Of course, she was also almost completely ignoring the guys comments about her.

When he finally shut his trap, she spoke up. "Trust me, I'd rather work alone - but in lue of that, we work together. If you have a problem with that, you should've talked to Sturm. Otherwise, shut that trap of yours or you'll get us all killed," she shot him a look. He gulped down and nodded.

With a heavy sigh, Lavality pulled out a shortened version of a normal katana. She stuck her hand into the inner pocket of her robe and pulled out what appeared to be a dirty cloth, and quickly rubbed the blade down to get rid of the shine. When she was done she placed the cloth back into her pocket and was about to get up when she heard the knock at the door.

She eyed the door; and moved her left hand close to one of her hidden lightsabres. She motioned to one of her team members to open the door.

Whisper, or General Andrew McKnight, the name he'd taken for this mission, though certainly not his real one, kissed Casimir on the cheek and smiled.

"You're quite right my dear, quite right indeed, what was I thinking? Should I go with the full on military uniform, or, just a simple tux? As I'll be there to escort you, I figure I should let you choose."

Whisper laid it on thick as he went, having developed this, for the last several months.
He was orchestrating the coup from inside the palace, turning her own forces against her, without anyone knowing it was coming from him. ]

Best of all, because she trusted him, she had HIM running the investigation onto who was causing all these problems.