Foothold settlement
Kiast
37 ABY
Foothold was typical of the lowermost settlements on Kiast. Nestled in the uppermost peaks of
the mountain range, it hung just above the rolling steel clouds of toxic gasses. The dull glow of
an atmospheric shield surrounded the range, its energies catching the late moonlight. Built with
practicality and need over any desire for an aesthetically pleasing design, its blocky grey
structures had been seemingly hammered into the mountain itself. Towers of rusting metal,
repurposed ships, and disc-like landing platforms circled the peaks, some displaying old
iconography or new declarations in thinning paint. Most were supported in place by a network of
durasteel struts and repulsorlift engines, each working to prevent the township from tumbling
down the slopes and into the blue clouds which covered much of Kiast’s surface. A web
of bridges and walkway rings linked each building, with some rising and falling to let airships
pass between them.
The Sentinel Network had learned of a possible meeting of Quorahi leaders, largely those dissatisfied with the nobility. With nothing definitive known of their actions and most of their agents offworld, the duty of finding and recording information from the meeting had been left to whoever was left to execute the mission with anything they had on hand. Tarvitz, Sirra, Essik and Rhan had all arrived separately. Essik had spoken with Foothold’s de-facto mayor - a balding zeltron by the name of Jalan - who he had helped to resolve a series of murders the year earlier, using it to guess the man’s disposition and possible involvement. Some information gathering and telepathic scans had helped the group to discover that the meeting was likely to take place on Foothold itself, and had eventually pinned down the exact starting date.
This had all led to Sirra - the only member of their group with any real skill in stealth and a
strong telepathic connection - to infiltrate and spy on the meeting; then to broadcast any
information she gained back to Rhan Nikora. Rhan was noting these down rapidly in what
seemed to be a raw stream of consciousness, bereft of structure and only vaguely coherent. .
Every word was what Sirra was picking up from the building and those within, emphasizing
emotions, thoughts and details that her senses that she could pick up. It hardly helped that the
girl was extremely reliant upon her telepathic abilities for communication; to the point of being
illiterate and inarticulate when it came to anything beyond the most basic of terms.
“The moment this is done,” Rhan said through gritted teeth, “I’m going to pay for that girl to get
some damn lessons in Basic.”
Tarvitz suppressed a smirk at that comment. “Is she inside?”
“Almost,” Rhan managed, the words she noted covering sounds as much as internal thoughts.
“They had a few guards on the roof. Now she’s inside.”
Getting inside the building had proven far more difficult than Sirra could have predicted. Initially
hoping that the cold night air would keep the guards from straying too far from their posts, she
had been surprised to find several waiting on the rooftop. Worse still, one of which had been
carrying a remote scanner, covering the surrounding area, which had easily seen through the
cloak Sirra had projected over herself. It had only been thanks to sheer fortune that she had
escaped capture, as the guard and uttered a few dark comments and slapped the machine,
mistaking its readings for a malfunction.
Carefully edging her way about the roof, and keeping her distance from the remaining sentries,
Sirra had kept to the edges of the roof. Dilapidated and weakened by rust, its surface was at risk
of caving in at various points. It had taken Sirra some time to find somewhere which could both
sustain her weight and had a hole large enough to permit her entry. On its northernmost corner,
the metal had given away entirely, exposing a stacked pile of crates within to the elements.
Spending a moment judging distance and tugging the thermal cloak close to her body, she
dropped through the hole and caught onto the edge of the roof. Swinging inward, she eased
herself down atop of the uppermost crate and dropped prone.
Sirra waited a few moments, listening and half expecting to hear the shriek of alarms, or even
the thoughts of surprised guards within. Instead there was nothing.
Raised voices could be heard echoing throughout the broad warehouse interior, emanating from a makeshift table which had been assembled in the far corner. She could see them now, one among them in particular was yelling, his face red and spittle flying from beneath a bushy mustache as he bellowed at another individual sitting on the far end from him.
___
“... And I tell you that this is the height of stupidity!”
Jalan had been yelling for some time now. As the current leader of Foothold, and its position of
importance as a larger settlement, he had been granted the right to speak in full with their
meeting. Only now, he was objecting to much of what was being put forward. Heavy-set and
balding, the zeltron’s orange complexion was showing the first signs of age, but his successful
tenure as an airship captain had earned him some degree of respect. That was quickly being
put to the test.
“Vaharian respects Jalan’s position, and she appreciates how difficult such a move must seem,”
one of the gand sitting at the far end of the table said, her words punctuated by this hiss of
ammonia passing through her respirator. “Yet surely you must see how necessary such a move is?”
“The hell I do, what you are outlining is open war!”
“It’s nothing of the sort!” another spoke up. A dark-skinned kyuzo, Mar Rahanis of Cainstead,
interrupted. He had been silent for much of the meeting thus far, but at Jalan’s latest outburst
his hand dropped to the table, silencing the zeltron with the noise.
“War certainly, but not a direct one. This would keep the nobility busy and make them far more reliant upon us to sustain their way of life. We would have the upper hand at last, and it would force them to alter the terms of our agreement.”
Rahanis had been one of the first to back an agreement of unification, but largely for his
settlement’s own benefit. Whereas Vaharian’s gand-dominated settlement - the name of which
was unpronounceable to most species - thrived in the lower reaches of the planet and Foothold
had managed to maintain its lofty heights, Cainstead was in a constant battle to remain stable
on its mountain. Greater unification among the tribes meant greater support for his town’s
precarious position given its extensive mining networks for nova crystals.
“And if they refuse?” another voice spoke up in the deep booming tones of a kel dor. “Would you
truly back an aggressive response, or harsher actions?”
“If pressed, of course,” Rahanis said, as if this was plainly obvious to all involved. “What does
maintaining the status quo offer us? We toil away down here, we are given limited support
off-world, room to expand or the benefits that the nobility take for granted. The Vatali Empire
has grown fat on our work, I say we are owed some of those benefits.”
Pinching the bridge of his nose, Jalan looked from one face to the next. Most shared this same
viewpoint, and the few that opposed it were remaining relatively silent. The more cautious
among them, particularly the kel dor - Vorvo Tulrik - were avoiding picking sides, but seemed to
be content to let those pushing for change to win. Most, it seemed, were interested in unity in
order to better support their townships and improve their lives than fully succeed from the
Empire. Yet that hardly improved what was being pushed for in their meeting.
“And we are certain that the nobles know nothing of this?” Tulrik asked, “Before we push for any
agreement, I simply wish to be certain that we will not be found out until the time is right.”
“We made certain of that,” Rahanis agreed, gesturing in the general direction of where the vast
air armada they assembled had disappeared off to, “The airships will hold the attention of their
spies for some time. If they do not, there are six meeting places that they are likely to pick out
over this one. Trust me, Tulrik, the Vatali will look here last.”
“Vaharian is sorry but, getting back to the matter at hand,” the gand interrupted, “Vaharian
wishes to make certain that all are agreed upon at least a number of basic agreements for any
unification. We are all in favour of this, and whatever follows should at least be decided upon
once this is settled.”
There was a general murmur of agreement from all but one individual, a sephi who seemed
increasingly bored of the proceedings. Jalan, for this part, seemed to appreciate that they were
backing away from the topic at hand, even if it was a simple reprieve rather than a true solution.
“Very well,” Tulrik spoke up. “Of those that we have discussed thus far:
Technological recoveries and salvage is to be shared equally among townships, dependant of
size and necessity.
Conflicts which require blood are to be settled by duels between chosen champions, either in
person or by airship rather than full scale wars.
Militia forces will stand as they are, but a yearly tithe will see airships and warriors leased to a
broader grand army.
Resources are to be split equally between city states, and nomad fleets will no longer be barred
from one another’s territories.
City states will be permitted to continue governorship, but wider judicial and planetary decisions
will become the jurisdiction of a unifying council.”
A chorus of ayes met each statement. Each was bold, but some seemed uncertain of the final
point. Certain definitions and the fine details had yet to be hammered out. Even as the leaders
of townships, cities and nomad fleets, each person at the table was all too aware of just how
such definitions could be stretched and loopholes abused. Sacrificing autonomy and personal
authority was something which could be all too easily turned into personal conquest.
“Then that’s at least clear,” Rahanis said, sounding somewhat more placated by this than
Jalan’s outright refusal previously. “If we can agree to at least these basic terms by the time
dawn rises, we can press ahead with our plans. But all of you know as well as I that the Vatali
will respond harshly to this, especially when we push for independence.”
“If we push for independence,” Jalan interrupted, glaring at Rahanis. “Kiast cannot stand alone,
even with all of our resources, and isolating ourselves from the rest of the galaxy would be
tantamount to suicide. I am not willing to starve my people out of petty pride, and I would hope
the same of you.”
“And I am not so blind as to ignore how the Vatali might respond,” Rahanis continued, one hand
balling into a fist at Jalan’s verbal jab. “They will not sacrifice control willingly, and they have
been mobilised for war for several years now, with their forces bolstered by a new influx of
troops. Whatever you might think of the Jedi, they are now a house of the Empire, and bound to
the Empress’ wishes.”
Rahanis remained silent, allowing that last point to fully sink in. Each person at the table knew of
the Jedi and their abilities. For decades they had been considered a myth more than anything
else, with abilities which seemed like they belonged in a fable more than reality.
“I still say that this is too much,” Jalan eventually spoke up, shaking his head. “The Jedi are
peacekeepers before all else, if Vatali did push to subjugate us with violence they would oppose
it.”
“As has been stated before, the Jedi of Clan Odan-Urr are now beholden to the Empress and
her will,” Tulrik said, “that will certainly influence their decisions. Even if it did not, for
peacekeepers they have fought more wars in recent memory than I would expect of any group
that values nonviolence. Several of our wars were caused by their simple presence.”
“Please, consider this to be a worst case response,” Vaharian said, directly to Jalan this time,
“We will only be responding with violence if the Vatali seek to control us through force, nothing
more. Until that moment, we will not press for any further actions.”
The discussions went on for some time after this, as points were traded back and forth, with
some objecting or raising their thoughts on the risks or implications of each decision. As the talks continued, moving onto matters of supply, trade routes and stockpiling resources, none noticed the footprints mysteriously appearing in the warehouse floor, leading back to the crates stacked on the far end of the building. The momentary bleep of a motion sensor detecting a possible new arrival was all that hinted of Sirra’s departure, as she exited the building and disappeared off into Foothold’s night cloaked streets.
Written by Essik Lyccane
____________________________________________________________________________
Throne Room
Voraskel Palace
Kaist
37 ABY
Amongst the ornate etchings of the throne sat the leader of the Vatali Empire. Empress Kaltani Anasaye. This Sephi woman was born from a royal bloodline that can be traced back to the formation of civilization on Kaist. Respected and loved by her people, the Empress has a firm yet caring hand in matters concerning her people.
Cousin and close advisor to the Empress, a Sephi male named Teron Dest, walked the long carpeted path of the grand throne room to bring news of the Jedi visitors that are waiting to meet with her. He approached her throne and bowed before speaking.
“Your Highness, the Jedi bring news of a meeting of the Tribes.”
“A meeting? What are they trying to do this time?”
“Not sure, your Highness. Should I send them in?”
“Please, do.”
Teron waved to the armed guards standing near the heavy durasteel doors. They nodded in unison before pulling the doors open.
This was the first time the three Jedi have had an audience with the Empress. Though familiar with their customs and edicate, they were still a little nervous as the newly formed alliance between the Vatali Empire and Odan-Urr was still in its infancy. Revak Kur choked down his nerves and pressed forward with Essik Lyccane and Tisto Kingang following behind.
The Jedi stopped before the throne and as is customary, bowed before addressing the Empress.
“Greetings Jedi, what news do you bring of this meeting?”
Revak lifted his head, “Your Highness, we have seen that the Quorahi have begun uniting under one banner.”
The Empress shifted in her seat. “They have done this from time to time. Their terms begin to break down shortly after they are discussed. Why should I be concerned?”
Essik cleared his throat, “Apologies, but after the attempt on your life by the Dominion, and the current hostility in the area, we are concerned that another attempt will be made. We wish to prevent another insurgency.”
“I understand your concerns Jedi, but unless you have solid proof that these United Tribes are a threat, I wish to not be bothered by news this insignificant.”
Tisto clenched his fist trying to suppress the anger that was building inside him.
“Revak, Essik and myself wouldn't bring this to your attention unless we felt it posed a significant threat to you and your people.”
“You are new to our system and our ways of life here Jedi. I am grateful to you for helping with the Dominion but understand that I will not force a war with the Tribes on my people. We are still trying to rebuild.”
Tisto began to speak but Revak nudged him slightly… “Understood your highness. We will continue to monitor the situation and report back to you if the situation changes. Thank you for your time.”
The Jedi bowed once more before leaving the throne room.
Once outside, the aggravation Tisto pushed down came to the surface.
“Does she not see that this is a problem? Essik, your spies mentioned an open rebellion but it's ‘Insignificant!’”
Revak tried to calm his Aedile’s frustration, “Tisto, the Empress has a point. Though the Empire is strong, her people have been through a lot…”
Tisto interrupted, “But there is a threat here. How can we sit idly by…”
“Who said we will sit idly by? We can’t interfere in their affairs, but we can look after ourselves which in turn looks after them. Essik, I need you and the Sentinel Network to maintain a close watch on the Tribes. Get me all the information you can about the key players and their tribes. I will put Striketeam Ooroo on high alert on VSD Sunrider and inform Commander Silvon to have Tython Squadron ready. Tisto do you still have contact with the Knights of Urr?”
“They are already standing by,” Tisto said with a smirk.
“Good. They will take care of immediate threats the Tribes pose to us in the system… I sense that things are going to get a lot worse.”
___
Palace Private Chambers
Voraskel Palace
Kaist
37 ABY
Empress Kaltani pressed against her forehead to relieve the throbbing pain that made it feel as if her skull was about to split open. Hearing news of the tribes unsettled her, but if like all the other times they had tried to unite, this wouldn’t be of any threat. Still, her guards were on alert.
Her alliance with the Jedi was still uneasy. Many of her advisers questioned the Jedi and their motivations. She herself still harbored some distrust for them. She heard the stories of what many Force wielders have done to other words. Bringing with them unimaginable horrors and destruction so the Empress kept them at a distance. Could they be manifesting a threat inorder to overthrow her? Could they be trying to gain strength and support to use their alliance for their own benefit? These questions she mulled over almost daily, looking for any signs of the Jedi’s bad intentions. She cared for her people like a mother cares for her children. She hated seeing them struggle. All she wanted for them was peace and prosperity. Little comfort could she offer though. All she could do was her best at protecting them.
For now though, Kaltani retired to her private quarters. Surrounded by the softness of fine fabrics and the various greenery that made the room feel more like a garden, she had this room decorated to remind her of her favorite place to play as a child. A place she could forget the days troubles and lose herself in its beauty. In the far corner next to a large fountain she found her bed. She sat listening to the flowing water. It calmed her mind almost instantly.
“Mom, you’re back!”
Anaya, her only daughter ran over and jumped onto the bed next to her mother, excited to see her after a long day of schooling. The 12 year old was the oldest heir to the throne and would one day have to contend with the troubles of running an empire. For now though, she kept her out of the throne room to focus on her education. The child was smart. Excelling in all areas of learning, she found the more physical lessons of fighting and wartime tactics of particular interest.
“Anaya, where is your brother?”
“I don’t know.”
Kaltani also had one son, Vosen, who was eight. Rugged and energetic, he always found a way to get himself in trouble. Unlike his sister, he cared less for his schooling and more about getting out and exploring Kaist. He showed no signs of wanting to rule an empire and found a new adventure everyday.
“Can you find him? It’s time for dinner.”
Kaltani walked into the small dining room that was attached to her quarters. While the palace had a large dining hall for large events or to host important quests, she performed the more intimate and family orientated setting that only a small dining table could provide. Her husband, Argen was setting down the last plate for his family. Kaltani shook her head.
“Why do you insist on serving us? I pay people for that.” She said jokingly.
“You worry about the Empire, let me worry about how dinner makes it to the table.” He replied with a smirk.
He walked over and held his wife tightly. He could feel the stress of the day still flowing through her body. More heat radiating off of her like Besh and Aurek combined. He knew that a good meal with her family would help her let go of the world she had placed on her shoulders.
As the family ate, the children told stories of their day. Kaltani took a minute to look at each one of them. A warming sense of pride radiated from her core. She thought to herself… “My children will one day rule. I must protect them. I must give them a strong empire to inherit.”