| abstract | - Coruscant: Ylaasin Parkway Tall trees with narrow trunks and pale bark line the southern side of this parkway as well as the bridges to the southwest and southeast. They open in well-trimmed ovals of dark green foliage, spotted here and there with tiny yellow flowers in the shape of stars. The traffic all about in slow and easy, and the towrs here are less densely packed than in other Sectors of the City. On the northern side of the parkway several slim towers present their facades. To the west, a modest silver structure, bulbous and set about with many balconies thrusts forth several sliding doors and to the east a taller spire stands with fewer balconies, but these are overflowing with lush green growth. A slender bridge passes between the two, joining in a covered landing pad. The ever-present sight of Republic Guards is perhaps a bit thinner here, where the crowds are less tourist and traveler and more long-term residents of the city-planet. Still, they are not so unknown that the uniformed figure of Briseis Karakas gets much notice, particularly given that she's found an out of the way bench on which to sit, hunched over with her elbows resting on her knees as she considers a line of trees before her, clearly lost in thought. Vathak Pree, on the other hand, is neither lost, nor in thought. He slips out of the vaulted entryway of one of the richer estates here in Coruscant, flanked on either side by a crimson clad noble. "Another donation to the cause," the man to his right says, obviously pleased. He punches a few figures on his datapad. The trio are headed in Briseis's general direction. The sound of footsteps earns Bri's glance, and her eyes first widen and then narrow as she places the crimson figures. Not difficult, really. They tend to stand out. She straightens, drawing her spine up as she watches them approach, and breathes out a long breath. "Ahhhh, hello, Captain," says the man to Pree's right. "I trust you are in good health?" Briseis stands, if a bit tiredly, to offer him a polite nod. "Quite, yes, thank you," she replies. "And yourself?" "I'm peachy," he replies. "We were just out and about, collecting donations from some of the noble Coruscant estates for the Red Guard." Pree stands silently in the back, and for the moment says nothing. Briseis' gaze flicks briefly to Pree and then moves with firm intention back to the noble with whom she converses. "Excellent," she says, and she manages to coax a touch of warmth into her voice. "I'm glad to hear it." "I hope you got my message," Pree says softly. The man who had been speaking glances up to his master, and then falls silent. Briseis looks back to Pree only briefly - long enough to not be rude. "Yes, of course, thank you Lord Pree," she murmurs politely. "And your gift as well. The Guard appreciates it." "Indeed?" Pree hisses. "I hope that the Guard will put it to good use." "Of course," Brisies assures, looking back to Pree for a moment longer. Her gaze lingers on him, tilted upward to meet his height, and for a moment's space, almost rude, she simply stares at him. Pree waves a hand slightly beneath his cloak. "Leave us," he hisses. The crimson clad nobles look from Pree to Brisies, and then back again. Their smiles fade slightly, but they bow and continue on their way along the Parkway, passing beneath the trees. Pree opens his hand in the opposite direction and begins to walk. Briseis is still for a moment, hesitant in her stare after the monstrous man. And then she moves, short-legged strides hastening to catch up with him in presumption that requires no invitation. "What's on your mind, Captain?" Pree hisses softly as he walks. Briseis responds with silence for a moment, pacing beside Pree with nearly two strides for his one. Her legs are short. Her head dips, chin tucking down as she considers the path before her. And Pree is content to remain silent as well, gliding along beneath the dappled light of a swiftly darkening sky through the leaves that brush almost comically at his hood. Crowds part in anticipation of him. Briseis eventually slows and then stops, steps drawing short as her frown grows deeper. She shakes her head silently. Pree halts and turns, looking silently at Briseis. There is no way to read his expression, but she might get a feeling from him of curiosity... "What troubles you, Captain?" Pree asks in that soft hiss of his. Overhead, dark clouds roll in. "What does not?" Briseis returns a touch dryly, her gaze shifted briefly to the weather overhead before it lowers once more to Pree. After a pause she admits, "I feel there are questions I wish to ask you. But I cannot find the words for any of them." A roll of thunder overhead. The first few drops of rain. One splashes the shoulder of Pree's cloak, and leaves a dark spot, the color of blood. "Tell me," Pree hisses softly, almost kindly-- or it would be kind if his empty voice could manage such a feat, "It disturbs me to sense the distress in your voice." "Does it?" Bri's gaze sharpens upward. "Why?" "I am confused, Captain," Pree says softly, "Is it strange that I should be concerned over the welfare of so loyal an Officer of the Republic?" The rain begins to fall harder now, splashing into little puddles on the walkway. "You did not particularly care yesterday, when you interrupted my meal solely to insult my companion," Briseis reminds a bit hotly. Perhaps a bit rashly. "That was not the reason that I interrupted your meal, Captain," Pree hisses. His voice sounds mournful, now. The rain colors all his cloak a deep, dark hue, and it hangs heavily off his massive shoulders. Rain darkens Bri's uniform as well, deepening the olive grey into something darker. She squints upward, water clinging to her lashes as she watches the tall figure. For the moment, she is silent again, questions unasked and comments unmade. "I am sorry," Pree says softly. "I did not mean to interrupt something with a person you cared for. I was only happy that I had my Letter, and I thought you would be happy, too. We share a hope, do we not?" The rain has begun to fall in sheets now, and the more rational sentients have run for cover in the awnings of the nearby apartment buildings. The water runs off the top of Pree's helm, trickling into the dark shadowy space within. It makes his armor glitter and glisten. "I barely know Mr. Arc," Briseis corrects swiftly. Contrary to Pree, she has no protection against the rain save her Guard's cap, and she's soaked through in a matter of minutes. Still she stands, ignoring it save for the fast swipe of a hand over her face to wipe away water that quickly accumlates again. "Tell me, Lord Pree," she demands. "Why do you do this? Is it hope? Really? Or is it simply bitter revenge?" "It is more than either hope or revenge, Captain," Pree replies. "It's... complicated." A little crackle of lightning glints in strange highlights off the curves of his helm, and in a flash reveals the emptiness of it. Then it is dark again, and the rumbling reaches them a moment later. "I should get you out of the rain," he hisses. "I am not going to melt," Briseis dismisses swiftly. "What is complicated about it? Explain it to me, Lord Pree. Explain to me what you fight for, if not to protect and serve and provide for all those the Republic covers." "I fight for Peace and Order," Pree hisses softly. He gestures with one of his massive hands, perhaps a little helplessly, "What shall I tell you? Do I fight for King Bail Organa? No. He may fight for himself, and I do not think he loves Peace. He speaks of it often, but I do not think he loves it enough to have Order. You cannot have the one without the other. I do not fight for him. But whether I like him or not, I obey the Law-- and I will always obey it. I do not wish to take it into my own hands." "Does the Republic itself mean nothing to you then?" Briseis challenges, and she's forced to narrow her eyes as she looks up as streams of water flow from forehead to the slopes of nose and cheeks in tiny rivelets. "Not the Peace it provides, not the Order it inflicts, but the /Republic/, and everything it stands for." "The Republic means so many things to so many people," Pree hisses softly. He takes a step forward, "You are becoming drenched. Please, let us discuss this matter in doors." Briseis looks hesitant for a moment, clearly unsatisfied, but the plain truth of the chill of rain finally urges her to concede with a short nod, silent acceptance. As they walk, Pree continues to speak, "You do not understand. It is not that the Republic means nothing to me, Captain. It is only... it is only so vague. Have you ever asked a Jedi what the Republic meant to them?" He walks at Briseis's pace, to the southwest. Vathak Pree heads across the tree-lined bridge to the southwest. Vathak Pree has left. You head across the tree-lined bridge to the southwest. Coruscant: Jossan Thoroughfare Upper-class neighborhoods, small shops and exotic groceries line the western side of this cheery thoroughfare of white stone. There's always a fair amount of foot-traffic here, much of it aimless and as casual as the languid flow of aircars overhead. Dominating the eastern side of the thoroughfare, the massive dome of the Hotel Gerndaru towers over most of the structures in the Sector. Famous among the upper class of the Republic, the great golden dome has been intricately wrought, set about with beautiful carvings depicting the heavenly skies above. Just below the dome, the hotel in ringed with balconies of polished durasteel, and facing west a great open gateway stands ready to greet its patrons. "I have never seen a Jedi act with such rudeness to another," Briseis replies stiffly, head ducked to keep the rain from her face. As they pass beneath an awning, the rain is momentarily deadened, and Lord Pree's voice is made louder in the momentary silence, "I don't know what more I can say on that incident. If I cannot be excused for the pain that my past is wont to cause me, then I do not suppose I can be excused." He continues walking. Briseis frowns at that, brown eyes darkening as she moves beside him. Her footsteps are hurried but not quite rushed, a necessity when keeping up even with Pree's slower paces. As they move from the shelter of the awning into the downpour of rain again, her silence persists. Before long they come to a tall archway that runs up against the thoroughfare across from the famous hotel. Pree motions to the archway with a gesture of one massive hand, and slips beneath through a sheet of pouring rain. Vathak Pree goes to Coruscant: Sweeping Tower - Entryway. Vathak Pree has left. Coruscant: Sweeping Tower - Entryway Tall, cold, and brilliantly lit with white lamps that ring the floors of this chamber in a circle where they meet the walls, this place could be considered spartan were it not for the ample space. The floors are of a polished black durasteel, polsihed to a gleaming shine, and the walls are a silver durasteel, ringed with columns that alternate with the lamps in the floor. Between each column, fine works of art, all ancient, all exquisite examples of Coruscant culture have been tastefully displayed in fine wall alcoves. Directly across from the tall arch that provides access to the tower, the prize piece of this collection is displayed: a threadbare old banner bearing the original seal of Republic Law-- a wheel of black on a field of the deepest crimson. In the center of the room, a durasteel staircase spirals up like a helix through a hole in the roof above; this staircase has no hand-rail. Briseis follows Pree wordlessly, although there is a sigh of quiet relief as they duck out of the rain for good. She moves without comment, gaze quiet and interested as it sweeps around their surroundings. Once within, Pree turns to Briseis again, "What do you want of me, Captain?" Primly, Briseis replies, "A towel would be nice. Please." Pree motions for the woman to follow. As he heads towards the stairs, he presses a small button on his belt, and speaks softly. "Towels, civilian clothes, and some hot soup. And prepare to launder a uniform." With that, he ascends the stairway. Vathak Pree goes to Coruscant: Sweeping Tower - Grand Hall. Vathak Pree has left. Coruscant: Sweeping Tower - Grand Hall An antique Coruscant dining table dominates this hall, sweeping twenty meters from a wall shadowed with ancient tapestries to a wall centered with a vaulted arch that leads out onto a balcony. This room could only be considered cozy because of the vastness of the furniture which occupies it: massive old durasteel chairs, high-backed and sumptuous line the table on either side. Dimly lit repulsorlamps cluster and waver near the ceiling. Massive suits of blast armor linger in the shadows behind the table, each clutching an ancient Force Pike. The room itself is all a simple silver durasteel, with black durasteel floors, finely polished. But the light overhead is not enough to make the room seem large, and the ceiling is low enough to make the room seem somehow close. "Thank you," Briseis replies, her voice a bare murmur that coasts into silence as they walk the stairway. By the time they've reached the grand hall, her eyes have gone a touch wide despite her best efforts, taking in the area. Eventually she finds her voice with a clearing of her throat to murmur. "You have a lovely home." "Thank you," Pree replies simply, "As I have said, you are welcome any time. For refreshment, or whatever you may have need of." A few Lords look up at Lord Pree's entrance, seated as they are around the table. They begin to stand, and he lifts a hand, "As you were." They sit slowly and begin to talk amongst themselves again. A moment later, a crimson-clad servent appears, with the requested items-- all save for the soup. In addition, there is a fresh cloak and other crimson garments. Pree bows slightly to the fellow, and then pushes a button in a shadowed alcove, and motions for Briseis to follow. Vathak Pree goes to Coruscant: Sweeping Tower - Private Chambers. Vathak Pree has left. Coruscant: Sweeping Tower - Private Chambers Dim, these chambers are disconcerting in more ways than one. There is no artificial light in the chambers, and only a broad, sweeping window that provides a vista stretching from the Industrial Sector to the Government Sector. The only light comes from without, and sometimes that is very little light indeed. Beside the window, there is very little to see in these chambers. Low, each of them arches up to a vaulted point. Each is constructed wholly of black durasteel, though it is of a matte finish, unpolished. There is no furniture of any kind-- and the only thing that comes close is a sort of translucent black Corusica silk drapery that partially obscures the small arches that interconnect these chambers. In one of the dimly lit chambers, a large circle has been set in the floor, slightly elevated. A cunning eye might put it as a holo-communications system. "Er," Briseis says as she steps in after him. Her gaze skims the room, clearly curious but unwilling to ask and she clears her throat slightly. "You really don't need to go to the trouble," she assures. "A towel will do the job quite adequetely." Pree passes her the towel and the rest. He takes the cloak. "Use what you will," he says softly, "For myself, I will change. I can endure the moisture, but I like to present myself well before the men. And here we will speak privately until some food has been made for you and I can send you back dry. I would not send you back with questions unanswered." That said, Pree passes into one of the adjoining chambers, and is swiftly lost to the shadows of the place, though his voice remains, strangely disembodied. "We were speaking of the Republic," it hisses. Briseis nods, and despite her words she moves to finger the crimson fabric hesitantly, thoughtfully. She's lifted a hand to work at the buttons of her uniform when Pree speaks again, and her head whips around in instant paranoid search as she freezes. "Er," she says. "Yes." There's a brief crackle of lightning without the large window, and the barest glipse of Pree can be seen through one of the alcoves. He has removed his cloak, and his coat lies open. There is no skin, however-- only a hulking column of red durasteel that winks sharply in the glint-- a slight bulge over where his left 'breast' would be has a few yellow lights, blinking in the dark. And then all is dark again. "I will ask you: what is the Republic to you?" comes the voice. It hangs disemodied in the shadows again. Briseis 's gaze is wide-eyed as she looks through the alcove, staring despite what decorum might suggest. She startles backward at a clap of thunder and her fingers curl in the fabric of the towel she's now holding. The petite soldier lifts her chin and draws in a level breath as she presses her eyes closed. When she blinks them open again, she moves swiftly to strip her sopping uniform off and replace it with the dry fabric of crimson garmets that whisper warmth against her cold skin. It's some time before she replies, snapping the cloak about her shoulders with a bit of awkwardness as she draws a breath in. "The Republic," she finally answers slowly, "Is Peace and Order, yes, but also more. It is Justice. It is Opportunity and Freedom. It is Civilization and Education and all that is right with the universe. A galaxy without the Republic-- it would be chaos." "Civilization, Education, Justice," Pree's voice hisses softly from the other room. "All of these things I can stand for, and more. But they are won through the rule of law. Through Order." The voice approaches, and at the end it is back in the chamber with her. In the dim light, the outlines of Lord Pree can be seen, hidden again in cloak and crimson cloth, "Without the law, we have nothing." Anxious fingers smooth over the unfamiliar cloth before Briseis jerks the towel up again, this time working to squeeze the drip of water from her long braid. "Yes," she agrees as she works, keeping her gaze turned away. "But if all we have is the law, we still have nothing." "How can we only have the law, Captain?" Pree asks in reply, "The law must legislate something. Do not mistake me, I am neither a lawyer, nor a legalist. I love Coruscant. The Republic is Coruscant's first and greatest gift to the galaxy." "It is easy enough to become so enamored with Law that we lose sight of all else," Briseis disagrees, lifting her head and turning it to find Pree once more. She lowers the towel in her hand and straightens slightly, quiet for a moment. "That is where your heart lies, then? With Coruscant?" "Coruscant inspires me, Captain," Pree hisses, somewhat enigmatically. "What answer are you looking for?" "Whatever answer is true," Briseis replies simply. "Why Coruscant?" "Coruscant is the source of the Republic. It was Coruscant culture that brought the Republic into being; it is Coruscant culture which holds the barbarism of the galaxy at bay. All the respect I have for the Republic comes from my respect and love of Coruscant. We are the bright center of the Galaxy-- and so we must be bright, and share our Order with everyone," Pree replies. "You fight for Coruscant, then," Briseis surmises, watching him quietly. "The Republic is merely a byproduct." "I believe that Coruscant should continue to seat the Galactic Government, Captain," Pree replies simply, "And I will serve the Galactic Government of Coruscant. That is the Republic." "The Republic is not Coruscant." Briseis lifts her chin a touch and straightens, hands brushing lightly down the unfamiliar robe. "If this war has taught me anything, it is that." "What is the Republic, my dear Captain?" Pree asks. An unfamiliar robe. And unfamiliar place. And Pree takes a step forward. That voice of his never seems wholly unsinister... That chin edges upward a touch further, steadfast in outward appearance at least. Outside, another flash of lightening cracks through the air and throws the pair of them into momentarily sharp relief. Shadows cast long against the floor. "It is all those things I spoke of. And it is all those things for all its citizens. All of them. I have fought on Merr Sonn and I have fought on Ord Mantell, I have fought over Vanix and on it, on Alderaan. These places are not Coruscant. But they are the Republic." "Perhaps you mistake me, Captain," Pree says softly. "I believe that all of those places are the Republic... and that all of them are the Republic insomuch as they have been touched by Coruscant." "No," Briseis replies, drawing out the single word into a pause as she considers the man - figure - opposite her. "I think I understand you. Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Pree. It is greatly appreciated." "Polite as always, Captain," Pree hisses softly. He turns then, and his hulking form slips deeper into the shadows. Rain drums on the window, and there is the synthetic sound of a sigh from the shadows. "You must think me... some kind of monster." Briseis turns to watch after him, clearly startled into both movement and reply, "Of course not! What have I said to make you think so?" Her voice lowers, a touch defensive as she speaks swiftly and without thought. "But I am, aren't I? There isn't enough of me left to fill a cargo crate," Pree says softly. One massive shoulder can be seen silohetted against the window. "This isn't even my old voice. I cannot remember it." "We are what we make of ourselves," Briseis answers, and after a significant pause she takes a step forward, toward the shadows where he stands. Her voice is quiet when she adds, "I am sorry for what's been taken from you. It was wrong and evil. But the lack of skin and bones does not make a man a monster. /That/ is not what makes a monster." "What is it?" Pree asks, in that hollow voice of his. His great bulk turns, and the shadowed helm falls upon Briseis. "The men and women who wage war against us - the ones who sit in our halls and eat with us and fight with us only to feed information back to our enemies. Who created those /creatures/. They have flesh and bone." Bri's voice grows briefly fierce, and her gaze settles somewhere at Pree's middle. It saves the crick in her neck. "Do not call yourself a monster because you lack it. Actions determine the label." A massive hand reaches out of the shadows and rests gently on Briseis's shoulder. The lightning without crackles again. "Is it so? Perhaps time will tell," he hisses softly. Briseis startles at the touch, an unconscious jerk backward that speaks of her discomfort despite her heartfelt words, and it takes her a moment to draw herself still again. "What you do with yourself determines who you are," she states once more, firm and with the tone of an oft-repeated belief that lies at her core. "I fear... I fear that dangerous decisions may lie in both of our futures," Pree whispers, "But, we do share a hope." "Dangerous decisions?" "I... I do not know," Pree replies softly, "But it feels like this is a turning point. If only... there are times when it feels as though, if only I could see, I would know... but instead, I just have a feeling that nags at my gut. If only I had eyes." Briseis is silent at that, and she turns away to pace a few steps, her expression darkened with thought. Pree also remains silent, his helm cast into the darkness of the shadowed chambers; expressionless by neccessity. "I suppose," Briseis finally says, turning to look at him from a distance that makes it somewhat more comfortable to direct her gaze toward his helm rather than his middle, "That we are fortunate, then, that none of us are required to make them alone." "We are all alone, inside," Pree hisses shortly. Then he turns and casts his helmed gaze in the direction of Briseis again. He pauses for a long moment, and then gives a synthetic sigh. "I have spoken too much. Perhaps I should get your uniform dried and send you on your way, Captain." "If I believed that, then there would truly be nothing to fight for," Briseis counters in the space of his long gaze. At his sigh she stirs and straightens, abruptly military once more despite her clothing. Something snaps between them, a mood clearly broken, and her nod when she gives it is strictly polite once more. "I'm greatly appreciative, Lord Pree. You're right, I should be going. I have duties to attend to."
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