Resistance Meeting 35:01:25

The Baron puts together a steak dinner with his caterer, Pohni Kor'al, and when everyone arrives at The Reactor Core it's sizzling and smelling great. This Kor'al guy must have a really large debt to the Swift family. It's such a big meal his COO cook droid is there, too (crazy little guy), and is busy using his mini flamethrower to sear the various cuts. And then juggling the meat in the air while serving it - some barbecue sauce may be flying through the air. Marv wanted to contribute as well, so he has spent the day mixing up all kinds of unusual drinks from across the galaxy.

Brown Fox had wanted to excuse himself from attending this event (shampooing his fur takes a long time, after all), but reluctantly agrees to at least put in an appearance. However, he doesn't get much in the way of “excellent food” and he is soon won over by the evening. Plus, he keeps close to Via (that perfume she's wearing is ravishing) which doesn't hurt his mood at all.

Sprend sits far away from the door, rifle out in front of him with some cloths and oils, slowly going about polishing and cleaning his equipment, frequently eyeing down the sight and making sure everything is to his liking. As the food is ready he saddles the rifle over his shoulder and enjoys it all. Seeing the lack of trust on people's faces he starts telling stories about his past, not hiding anything, referring to many encounters with Storm Troopers as he sought vengeance for the murder of his family. Vengeance that he still seeks. He explains how when he looks down the scope of his rifle, it's to protect the family that he has, this one.

Tor-nenko mostly spends the evening to himself, sitting at the end of the bar near Sprend and seeming to be largely lost in thought when he isn't enjoying the surprisingly tasty meat samplings of the droid cook. He occasionally turns his sight to Via, but his interest in her is something best not explored in this time in place. He does his best not to sour the mood of the gathering though, offering occasional chuckles in retort of deserved wit of the others while throwing his own comically dry observations himself. It does him a fair bit of good rather than continuing to stew in his workshop, although he still has a good bit of work to do and long overdue work orders to fill. He finds himself longing a bit for the silence of his workshop but chides himself over allowing another distraction to come to the forefront of his mind and just continues to make and effort to enjoy the night.

Brown Fox doesn't say much, but his mood is lighter than it has been in a while. The story Sprend his telling has at least some of his attention. Still, he remains on guard with the Baron and Damaria. It's clear that they each reek of secrecy, and Fox wants nothing to do with it. His profession obliges him to discover secrets, and he digging into the closets of his acquaintances will do nothing to further his end game. Best to avoid the temptation all together. Between bites he takes occasional, surreptitious glances about. He hopes he can find an opportunity to speak with Via in private.

During the meal Via stays at the Baron's side, clearly flirting with him (though she definitely spreads that around the room, too - he just seems to reciprocate the most openly) and laughs at his political humor.

---

Not everyone has arrived at the Reactor Core yet, and those that are here are busy setting tables or watching the boisterous COO cook droid flipping steaks.

D'Gane casually steps over and sits beside Tor at the corner of the bar. She is glamorous, as always. She puts her hand on his shoulder, and quietly says, “Something's been bothering me for the last few days. You really look like someone I know well. Does the name “Manya” ring a bell?”

Tor appears unresponsive until hearing the name 'Manya', and then immediately freezes. His sense of guard is in overdrive to the point that in not trying to give anything away he essentially gives it all. His mind races until he is able to focus on one question that could give him as much information as possible without revealing too much. He had not heard much from the Baron himself or his sources and he isn't sure how trustworthy this woman is, and he hasn't even revealed his true identity to the rest of the crew.

In a measured of tone, he attempts to ask a casual question. “Tell me, that tattoo of yours, where did you get it?”

D'Gane smiles broadly, and the smile seems quite genuine; “Cautious. Manya keeps telling me to be more cautious - maybe I am a bit overconfident. But even when we went into hiding I knew she would make it through. Manya is like a sister to me, and we've worked together for years. I was one of her personal bodyguards, but once she settled me into her current location she sent me here… I managed to infiltrate the ISB and quickly rose in ranks so now I'm in a position to smuggle weapons schematics to Merr-Sonn. I've told all this to Baron already.”

“We knew the family was in disguise, but you - your mannerisms are just like her's. And you have the cleanest clothes I've seen on any mechanic anywhere - it had to be you - Manya always laughed at that,” she grins, and Tor relaxes slightly. (While the relaxing is due somewhat to her pheromones, she can't control them - it's a natural thing)

“I got the tattoo in case I came across others from the family in my travels. I can hardly just start dropping passwords to anyone who might have been connected - all of you are in hiding, after all.

“You are the one who told Swift the password, right? In that moment, I thought he was delivering a message from Manya, telling me my cover was blown. I nearly broke his ribs when he said he was just checking my identity. Poor man…” She gazes over at him briefly, an almost tender look on her face as he worked behind the counter with Marv, setting up tables. Swift glances back across the room, but just winks and starts chopping peppers, giving them space. “He refused to tell me how he knew the phrase, so I had to logically work it out.”

“Alright, silent one. Tell me the password, and I can tell you where Manya is and what exactly I'm doing here. And if you know the password, I bet I can guess your true name.”

As D’Gane finishes, Tor takes a very long drink of his tea, looking to prolong his decision as long as he can, hoping one doubt would come screaming to the front of his mind. However, gaining the trust of the Baron and her detailed account proves to be enough to allow him this risk. Setting down his drink, he continues.

“Would you believe, that the code-word came from the first transport my father bought with his own money? A MandelMotors LUX-3 with a modified open cockpit. Because of some issues with the delivery transport it didn’t arrive until near sundown but somehow the blue coating of the paint shone all the brighter. The Azure Sunset.”

D'Gane's smile becomes even brighter, and grabs Tor's hand with both of hers, and speaks quietly. “I knew it! Taloon - your sister is safe on Corellia. May I let her know you are safe, or do you want to lay low? I can send a message in code, but it's up to you.”

“It actually looks like our current jobs are in line - Merr-sonn is supplying the Rebellion with arms, and the data I was sending when we met was Intel on the Empire's latest weapons miniaturization program; if Merr-Sonn can advance past the Empire friendly suppliers we may give the Rebels an edge. It's a gamble to put our money on this Rebellion; we are officially neutral and the Empire will crack down hard if they find out, but Manya and a few other rogue Merr-Sonn execs are confident that this is worth the risk.”

Tor betrays a face of relief, not even realizing he was being held. “You can give her news of my safety and my gratitude for her own well being. And I thank you for providing that.” Tor considers asking Via about news of his brother, but thinks better to keep whatever small details under wraps even if it's between agents. “I think for now though, it would be for the best if we don't meet up just yet. We should avoid as much shared attention as possible - let's keep Merr-Sonn neutral.”

Tor stands up, regaining a little bit of his professional demeanor “I'll defer to Baron as to what we'll do next. Perhaps in the meantime while we're waiting for the party to start, could you give me a hand with a locked storage crate we pulled from an Imperial transport train a few months back?”

In the middle of one of Sprend's colourful narratives, Via gets up and walks over to the bar, looking over the collection of foreign concoctions Marv mixed up earlier. Marv is at the far end, polishing glasses, but quite engrossed in Sprend's tale. Fox leans back against the bar of drinks Via is perusing. Still looking towards the table he says, “Poor Swift.”

She slides a fizzy, purple-coloured drink with an umbrella sticking out of it over to Fox, with a slightly arched eyebrow, but says nothing.

“The occupation of this planet must have been devastating for him,” he begins, with sincere regret in his voice. “He had such a life of privileged before the Empire seized control. Wealth, influence, community, respect. And now that's all gone.” He expertly sips from his Plum Bomb with aplomb. “I guess when I see him like this, in shades and shadows of his former life, I feel the worst for him. He uses this Revolution like a holovid director. I think in his eyes, this hole really is Swift Manor. And maybe this merry band he's collected fills the void left by the sycophants who latched onto the Swift name. All his stirring speeches probably sound like the ones given in the old Assembly Hall. Which I suppose means he's filling the space left by his father. That is so sad. He's this lost little boy who's trying to bring back his father by building a little castle in the holo-sand. Poor guy.”

Fox turns and faces Via, and the sadness is gone from his face. “You know what? If all this pomp and circumstance makes the Baron feel better, so be it! Let him enjoy the little play he's writing. After all his hardships, he deserves some happiness. Even if it all make-believe. 'Whatever helps you through the day,' is what I say.”

Fox downs the rest of his drink, and turns back to the table just as Sprend describes the “cataclysmic explosion” that he expertly set-off at Sabik's. “I guess it's the others I should pity. If Swift wants to spend his days constructing castles out of the bits of debris down here, that's his business. But if everyone else actually believes all this talk about rebellion and revolt…” He sighs, just a touch dramatically. “The delusions of the former aristocracy is a horrible things to waste you life on.”

Via pouts facetiously, “Here I thought you were coming to talk about me.” Then she looks back to the table where most of the group is laughing at a particularly funny part of the story, and turns to Fox with a glint in her eye and a hint of a smirk. “He is an intriguing figure. If you truly believe what you're saying, I suppose you have taken your training to heart. I have pored over the various Imperial dossiers on him, and they come to these conclusions as well. In fact, I imagine even he would agree with you during his darkest moments.”

“And you?” he asks, slipping her a small, wolfish grin. “What conclusions have you come to?”

Via stirs her drink for a moment, soaking in the chatter around her. “On almost every Imperial-controlled world, humans hold the highest positions of power. Even near-humans like Zeltrons are seen merely as tools or possessions. Now look around this room. A Duro, Rodians, a Zeltron and a Shistavanen eating together. I've seen your file. This would never happen in Brask's Kennel. You get the human scraps, and be beaten if you even thought of complaining.”

Sprend was nearing the end of his story, all attention on him.

Via's eyes glistened slightly, staring into space. “When I first met the Baron, he looked me in the eyes and introduced himself. Spoke to me like an equal, with courtesy and respect, and then actually listened to my response.” Then she chuckled, “Usually the only ones who treat me with respect have a blaster under their chin or a knife in their back.” She stirred her drink and picked up a second fluted glass. “The Assembly is mostly powerless on Balmorra now. But ask the locals; the poor, the marginalized, the “aliens” - they know who speaks for their benefit, who actually listens to their complaints and problems. That's fascinating enough for me to at least try to get to know him - beyond the image he's crafted, that the Empire has swallowed.”

Damaria had hesitantly agreed to come to the party, more to assuage the Baron's concerns than any desire for merriment. She spends much of the evening quietly watching the others, and trying to avoid D'Gane's attentions… not a hard job, given how interested the Baron and the others seem to be in her.

Slowly her mood starts to lift a small bit… this IS why she did what she did. To protect the group. To protect the Rebellion. And it sounded like Sprend (of all things!) would understand why it was necessary, the need to protect everyone… maybe Brown Fox too? But Brown Fox seemed quite cautious around her still – clearly there were still trust issues there. As soon as Via gets up and leaves the Baron's table Damaria sees her opportunity. She steels herself and contemplates a discussion with the Baron.

Damaria caught the Baron's eye right as he nods towards the seat just vacated by Via. Using the short time to walk to the other side of the table to try and calm her thoughts. Aand then remembered that, as far as she knows, he doesn't have the ability just to read her… just maybe control her. She quickly pushes that thought aside and sits down.

“I know you're not happy – neither am I. But we ARE safe now, or at least safer,” she said just loud enough for him to hear, her crossed arms belying a defensive stance.

Swift looks at her for a moment. “Damaria, I understand that you thought you were protecting us. And he was dangerous, and violated our privacy - that bothered me, a lot.”

“I had a speech in my head about being different than the Empire, but it does not really matter right now. I just want you to know I do trust you and your judgment, even if I disagree and would do things differently. I may even be wrong - my father always said it was wise to…” he begins with a grin, but then stops short and clears his throat.

“Well, in any case; how are you holding up? It has been a rough week or three.” Another wry grin, but concern in his eyes.

“And here I thought you tended towards overstatement,” Damaria chuckled drolly. “I'm worried about the attention we're gathering… but also slightly relieved to see the group seems to be handling it relatively well and starting to act a bit more like a team.”

A quick glance into his eyes told her that wasn't quite was he was asking, so she sighed and looked around to make sure no one else was listening before continuing. “I'm worried about the Force. On our last mission using it felt… different… a few times. On one hand easier, but only when I let my frustration and worry feed it, and that can't be good. I think we need to pursue both the holocron and the supposed temple more seriously - I don't know about you, but I'd prefer to be less in the dark about how it all works and what we can do with it.”

Swift nods. “I know a little, from my research and childhood. My parents strongly disagreed with the Jedi; they never trusted the pro-Imperial Council. But they did their best to help me manage my powers, though I was never formally trained. My father told me that the Force is a bit like all of our talents. If I use rhetoric in anger or fear, then my judgment is clouded and the consequences can be disastrous. The Jedi talk about a Dark side, and when we lash out in anger or fear, with dark intentions, it changes us. There are ancient stories on Balmorra… we need to talk more later. Maybe our rescued Jedi will recover and help us out - he should know a lot. Though I still will not trust him entirely.”

She hesitated a moment, as if unsure whether to continue. “I think we might also need to bring it up with the rest of the team soon… I've seen glances among some of them, and the way you got Seth to talk was hard to hide for one. It's only going to get harder – I'd thought maybe I could keep it secret, but if we're going to go forward as a team then I'm starting to think we can't hide any assets. Not just from a tactical point either – from a trust point,” she said, locking eyes with the Baron before continuing. “Although I'll admit to being nervous about how they're going to receive the news – working with someone who can control you and another who knows what you're thinking?” A brief smile flickered across her face. “Dash is already nervous enough around me…”

Swift nods in agreement, and smirks at the comment about Dash. “I was planning to tonight. From a tactical standpoint, it is like pretending we do not have a sniper. From a trust standpoint; I suppose my power has been growing, and there is no disguising what happened to Seth in any case.” He looks up apologetically, “Could I ask you to get a sense of the reactions? After our recent incident with Seth we must be careful. I would like to trust everyone…”

Damaria considers briefly before replying. “Normally I'd agree to anything that'd give an advantage… but I'm not sure that's a good idea here. If I start reading minds in the middle of a speech about trusting each other and hidden powers, it seems a bit… hypocritical.”

“Perhaps,” is the Baron's reply. “I cannot do what you do with the Force, but even so I try to read faces and discern how someone reacts to what I am saying. To me that is being an effective communicator, and no one has an issue with it. When I inspire others without the Force I am also instilling emotions and create a mood with my words; in all these cases, I believe the motivations matter most - a non-Force user can manipulate others or discover secrets for good or evil. But I think you are right - we at least need to hear what the others think, and maybe together we can agree on the boundaries for our group…”

Meanwhile Dash comes bounding through the door with a quizzical look on his face. Catching the air of awkwardness in the room, he sees Tornenko sitting by himself and hops up on the bar stool next to him.

“Ummm, Tor? Is that a new front door? What happened here? I got the Baron's message but could only get away now. What's all this talk about mistakes and failure? And what was that about forces? Did the Rebel Command send some sort of special forces unit here? And why is everyone avoiding Damaria?”

Not wanting to bother Marv, he leans across the bar and pushes the button on the automixer. He grabs the dispensed fizzlepop and looks up at Tor, hoping his barrage of questions didn't overwhelm him.

Tornenko is startled out of his train of thoughts by the sudden barrage of questions from Dash, although he only manages to let out a defeated sigh accompanied with “We'll talk about it later” as he slides a plate of steak skewers towards his companion.

Via turns back towards the table with the Baron and Damaria. Brushing past Fox she murmurs, “The Rebellion might be a delusion, but it's a delusion worth dying for.”

Arriving at the table with the Baron she winks at Damaria and drapes an arm across the Baron's shoulder from behind and holds a cup to his lips. “I picked out something special for you; I spoke to Marv about some of my favorite drinks from Zeltros. What do you think?”

The Baron flinches a bit since he hadn't seen her come up, and he blushes as he looks back at her since she is leaning forward in a rather provocative way. He stammers thanks and takes a sip - by his reaction it's powerful stuff. She whispers something into his ear - more blushing - and as she takes a seat on the other side of Swift he turns and waves Brown Fox over to the table.

Fox watches Via go, his eyes impassive. “Hm,” he says after she's seated. He notices the Baron waving him back. He turns his gaze to the door. He looks back at Swift. He takes a deep breath, grabs a drink, then walks over to the table. He feels as exhausted as he looks and would love nothing more than curling up in the Den and sleeping for a week. But he's stuck it out this long and will stay as long as he needs to. “For the team.”

---

As Fox arrives, Swift clears his throat and calls for attention and stands. He begins with a brief preamble, thanking everyone for coming, and talks a bit about how proud of the group he is, and recounts the good they have done so far.

He isn't dry or forced, but very sincere and well-spoken, and he singles out each one with a compliment. When he turns to Grexi, he says, “Grexi, I am very grateful for the way you and Chulo have treated Jumper (the ISB safehouse guard) - I believe the way to long-lasting change begins with how we treat our enemies. The Empire wants to simply eliminate all who oppose them and stamp out dissent, but unless we want to simply replace one despot with another, we have to learn how to get along with those who disagree with us. Fear and the desire for safety cannot overrule our compassion and consideration for others. I believe that anyone has the chance to change for the better.” At this, Swift glances over at Damaria briefly, not a look of judgement but a smile of encouragement.

Then he turns to the matter at hand. “I alluded to this in the invite; but in order to take the next step as a group, I need to become more open. Some of you may suspect already, but the time for secrecy is past - to be an effective team requires us to be open about our tactical assets.” Here he looks over at Damaria and nods.

“I am Force Sensitive - I can tap into the power that binds all living creatures together, and draw on its power to inspire emotions and ideas in others. Much like a great communicator, but I have slowly become even more powerful. Seth is clear evidence of that. To make others believe something untrue can be difficult, and lasts only a minute or two, but can be extremely effective on the battlefield. My growing confidence in the ability is why I have appeared reckless in marching ahead during several missions - if we can stop the enemy without violence or a protracted battle, my team becomes safer. I have lost enough friends in my life - you are all like a family to me.” He looks down briefly, and the observant among you may catch a glint of a tear.

But he takes a breath, continuing confidently. “This also means I am a wanted man, moreso than just being part of a Rebel cell. If my powers are discovered I will be hunted down by the top Imperial agents and either executed immediately or taken away. There are rumors of Force users at the Emperor's right hand. To gain a tactical advantage, the Empire has tried to mythologize any Force lore - convincing the people that there is nothing beyond the material world. Dash, you probably have never even heard about the Jedi; those of us who lived through the Clone Wars may have caught glimpses of these Force Knights. On Balmorra, we fought against the Republic and their Jedi attack dogs. My parents never trusted them and hid my Force Sensitivity from these Jedi - they actually used to remove children from their families to indoctrinate them at their temple on Imperial Center!”

“I still do not understand what happened, but my best guess is that the Jedi turned against the Emperor. It is likely they desired to rule the universe themselves, but I cannot say. My parents respected some of them - others were worse than Palpatine (in their eyes - they don't know he's a Sith Lord and pulling all the strings…). In any case, I am no Jedi. I ask you to judge me according to how I have treated you and others around me. I have no defense - if any of you betray me to the Empire, I am essentially a dead man.”

During the Baron's speech Dash looked around at the faces of the others. It didn't really make sense to him at all. Something big happened while he was away, and nobody seems to want to talk about it. The Jaboon in the room was overly large. In a flash of maturity he decided that they would tell him if he needed to know. Maybe he could ask the Baron or Damaria about it later too, but for now he would let sleeping Mooka's lie.

This Force stuff that the Baron was talking about didn't make sense to him. A power that connects living things? It almost sounded like a wizard from ancient fables. But that wasn't real, of course. Maybe the Baron was just personifying his theatrical traits. But why would the Empire be after somebody like him more than anyone else from the Rebellion? How could making one person feel a bit more inspired be more dangerous than taking out a train full of Stormtroopers or having a clandestine shoot out inside a casino?

The Rebellion was real. And dangerous. He knew people were going to lose their lives in this fight but he had never thought that it would hit close. That's kind of what it felt like though. Like there was some massive loss that everyone had experienced. But no one was missing. Yet.

Dash had managed to listen in on a few of the security seminars that his parents attended at the security symposium on their trip. A lot of it was pretty boring but one in particular was geared towards security procedures regarding the Rebellion. He listened attentively to that, trying to absorb the protocols they were outlining. The term 'lethal force' was used often. He wondered if he would end up on the wrong side of his mother's blaster one day. This made him angry. He could see the good they were doing. Chulo and Grexi were here because of them. He had heard about the 'rehabilitation internment centers' that the Imperials were setting up. Fancy words for 'prison'!

He remembered seeing a presentation holo outlining 'internment center population control procedures.' This chilled Dash to his bones. It essentially outlined the procedures for selling prisoners into slavery or even sending them to disintegration modules for the high level inmates! He was more sure than ever that the Empire was pure evil.

He knew he had to make sure Kay was all right back at his old home, but he still didn't know how to get there. With the Empire clamping down even harder on 'aliens' and the Rebellion, travel was impossible. He also thought about Koyi'Tarkona (the 20-something green-skinned Twi'lek Dash had rescued from the Stormtrooper harrassment). He wondered how she would feel about the Rebellion. Maybe he could talk to her about it. He still had her number…

Glancing up from his thoughts he caught the end of the Baron's speech. Something about an ancient secret order of monks called the Jedi. Sounded straight out of a fairy tale. Ahh well, how hoped he wouldn't start losing his mind too when he was as old as the Baron.

---

As Swift finishes up his speech, Fox collapses and The Balmorran Resistance rushes to save their friend's life… see "Mission 6 - Later That Evening..."