The Rebel Faction

[size=2]"Yes, of course, Syren," the High Regent agreed, as he swept a hand subtly around the room. "And as you can see I have provided the best to do both, my lady."

Sully kept aware of the Tund Sorceror, but directed his attention to the dark woman. "But these things are neither for my comfort nor my vanity. They are for show. Some things are all the more impressive precisely because they are so extravagantly impractical. To build our Imperium, we have to win the hearts of the people whose planets we visit, and those of their leaders, as well.

"This is the symbol of power, of confidence, of victory. They will all be drawn to this, wish to align themselves with it, hope it will rub off on them. This is the pull that will bring our Imperium together.

"And with you and Zuinlan as allies, that's going to be the push."

Zuinlan rose an eyebrow and tilted his head. "What do you have proposed for me and our new guest?"

In spite of the question presented, Sully found himself smiling at her and admiring the way the light glinted off her hair. A servant walked over and Anre broke off his stare to turn to him. "I had a dark whiskey a few days ago. A nice smokey bite, but I don't remember the name."

The servant smiled. "Bakuran Reserve, Sir."

"Ah, yes, that one," he replied, "and whatever the lady wishes."

A minute later, it was served. He took a proffered tumbler, with its cubes of ice and deep amber whiskey. He held it under his nose, enjoying the wooden aroma, then sipped, feeling it burn smoothly down his throat. Either this whiskey was even better than he remembered, or it was a better brand of the same stuff.

"High Regent?"

Sully turned in response to the voice, and spotted Zuinlan awaiting his query. "Ah, yes, to business then"-- he glanced again to Syren and smiled-- "I believe it is the time the Jedi Order have been paid a visit by our Imperium to discuss matters of an alliance."

He looked around the room. "And if not, I am sure there are certain things in their temple that we can acquire without their consent."

He smiled and eyed Syren. "I am sure you have had experience in this?"[/size]

[size=2]She settled back in her seat as casually as one might in a comfortable armchair. She was clearly used to such comforts. Sully tore away from Syren to look out toward the crowds, watching the stranger disappear, then returned his attention to her. Whatever else she is, she's a smooth social operator, and I can use that.

The High Regent smiled. "You dance quite well, Syren. I hope I will be honored to be graced by a dance as well?"

He subtly eyed Zuinlan and pointed his gaze toward the mingling crowds. "Zuinlan, I insist you go and circulate. Make our guests welcome. I have to go set things up." The Sorceror of Tund nodded slightly and rose from his seat, making his way toward the same direction where the stranger left. Whether the visitor was a threat or not, he was one to be investigated. If he was an infiltrator, Anre would need to find out.

The band struck up a slow number. Now was the opportune moment to do so. Anre took her hand and stood. "Lady Syren, I believe this would be the moment I wish to see how many left feet I have. Shall we see what happens?"

She accepted his invitation and rose. They stepped onto the dance floor and he put his hand around her small waist, feeling the delicate curve of her back through the thin material on the dress. She stepped in close to him, and at the gentle urging of the music, they moved as one as they made small talk.

He was careful not to say anything that a spy-- or even an interested citizen-- might not pick up from other sources, or to provide any current information of strategic value. Yet he found that he enjoyed talking with her. She showed eager interest in his stories of battle and adventure. Though she didn't say so, he felt she'd lived a similar life-- perhaps too similar for his taste.

Though he told her freely about his own background, he seemed to learn very little about her personally, which bothered him. Not that he hadn't expected her to be evasive. His fellow Dragons in the Imperium were about the only people in Sully's day-to-day life who ever spoke the unadulterated truth, and then only because they sometimes couldn't help it. With nobles, politicians, and diplomats, what came out was shades of deception. He was entirely used to that.

It was the nature of her evasiveness that both intrigued and frustrated him, but he would not give up.

"Syren," he chimed as he dipped her, "so who was the gentleman that you were dancing with? Anyone that I should be aware of?"

[/size]

[size=2]He smiled. Skillfully dodged. "Indeed, it was, Lady Syren. My two left feet didn't intrude in your dance, after all." He found himself wanting to know about her. Everything about her. He got little in return as she was still close-mouthed about her family and personal history. Yet there was a connection. They shared something in common, even if it was unspoken. He knew in his heart that they were somehow very much alike.

But now was not the time. He had a flash of guilt, and his sense of duty tugged at him as they settled at the table. "Well, now that we have known a bit of each other, we can continue." Sully casted his eyes at the returning Sorceror as he approached and whispered an update on the stranger. Apparently, he had vanished into the night when he left the grounds. Anre simply nodded at the news.

So it seemed he was no threat after all. Just as Syren had pressed.

He beckoned Zuinlan to sit across from him at the table. "Now that we have indulged in matters of pleasure and Zuinlan has mingled enough, let us finish what I wish to propose," he announced quietly.

He faced Syren, then the Force-user from Tund. "Zuinlan, the Order of Sorcerors would like to schedule a meeting with the Jedi Order on Naboo, concerning a possible exchange of information. If the diplomatic end does not serve us-- acquire it through other... radical ways." A servant stepped into view and handed both of them a datapad. A display opened up and Sully explained. "This is a draft of what the Order-- and the Imperium-- would like to acquire: several holocrons that contain the knowledge of several Jedi in order to implement it into the Tund Order. Most likely, it will be stored in their Jedi libraries. I am sure it will be well protected, so both of your skills will be needed to retreive them."

Sully's eyes shifted to Syren's. "Understand, Syren-- that you were brought here because of your skills at infiltration. Be wary of your dark ways as the Jedi will sense this. Cloak them as the Sorcerors do. You will be posing as one of them to represent their order as ambassadors."

Despite the many things already troubling him, Zuinlan was able to maintain a proper poker face. The addition of Syren's role in this mission had been intentional and carefully calculated. The High Regent had gambled that it might work. He hoped it would.

As he scrolled down the list, Sully addressed the dark woman-- his smile returning-- and pushed an envelope containing thousands of credits. "Here is a fair amount of credits to repair your ship and for the journey. Zuinlan will accompany you to Naboo. And remember-- the Imperium has no knowledge of your intentions... nor involvement.

"Is there anything else before we conclude our lovely evening?"

[/size]

[size=2]"Excellent, dearest Syren," the High Regent replied, thus confirming the pact she had commited to. "This went most well."

Zuinlan nodded once, not speaking. Anre turned to him.

"You have assembled all the information on the Jedi Temple on Naboo?"

"Yes, High Regent."

Sully stared into his glass. The Black Dragon Empire was massive, the souls working under it numbering in the millions, but some things he had to deal with personally. Especially something this... sensitive.

"All of the material concerning Leia Organa Solo has been checked and rechecked?"

"As you ordered."

"Very well. Then I believe our evening here has concluded," Sully declared. "Realize the Imperium's hand must be invisible. There must be no mistakes."

"There will be none, High Regent."

A servant was waved over to the table. Sully addressed him in a low whisper. "I would like to speak with General Grevious. Have him meet me in the balcony outside. I will speak to him personally."

"As you wish."

The Sorceror of Tund remained silent as Sully considered his plan.

The High Regent wanted the secrets of the Jedi, wanted them to give to the Taj Dameun. Sully's memory of that conversation he'd been privileged to partake some months back was that the Dameuns very much wanted their secrets to use for their own purposes on Dameo.

Yes, it was a good plan. A bit complicated, but all the possible sequels had been examined and considered and covered.

In the end, he knew he had found the perfect weapon with which to finally have the upper hand over the Jedi Order.

His latest acquisition, Syren.

The High Regent rose from his table. "Now if you will permit me, I must retire for the evening and attend to important matters of the Imperium." His offered his hand to Syren and she accepted it. A light kiss was placed and a smile accompanied it. "It was a pleasure meeting your acquaintance, Syren.

"Now please, don't let me end this evening for you. Enjoy the rest of the night and Zuinlan will be summoned tommorrow when you are ready to depart." With that, the High Regent savored the last of his drink and dismissed himself, leaving the pair behind.

Zuinlan turned to Syren. "If it is acceptable, I wish to return to my quarters to prepare. I will leave this night to you..."[/size]

The planet-glow of Argai was so bright, the incoming and outgoing ships so plentiful that it never truly got dark here on Sully's private balcony. There was apparently a brisk convection-downdraft blowing, generated as the buildings cooled and the night air slid down into the artificial canyons toward the streets far below.

General Grevious approached from behind him, his footsteps barely audible but the sound of his cape was heard fluttering in the breeze.

"You summoned me, High Regent?" the towering cyborg menace questioned, as one of his metal clawed hands wrapped the cape tightly around his skeletal body.

"I did, General. Is the plan in motion?"

"All is as planned. Vos has retired for the evening and so has our latest acquisition," he replied in a smooth, synthetic voice.

He nodded. Waited a moment, then said, "I wanted to invite her up there." He waved at the view. "But I would think it would not be appropriate for a man of my position."

There was a pause, longer than Grevious would primarily allow before speaking. "You attempted to woo this women, but failed, High Regent?"

"I tried to make the attempt."

"This failure has then made her more appealing?" he questioned, the tone lowering an octave.

Anre replied, "Your point?"

"One wants more what one cannot have. As long as she ignores your advances, her charisma grows stronger. The more she ignores, the more you desire her. It has become a contest of wills."

He smiled. "So it has. Which I will win, eventually."

The cyborg general said nothing, blinking his serpentine eyes once behind the alloyed mask.

"You doubt me?"

"You have never failed before."

Not really an answer, but true enough. "And you, my ever-vigilant General, you do not approve of Syren?"

"The more intelligent and dedicated someone is, the more dangerous she can be when threatened."

Sully watched a particularly congested lane of ground-to-space air traffic. The running lamps of the vessels seemed to form an almost continuous line of colored lights.

The High Regent declared, "You of all beings should understand. Much of life is about the search for equals. You are unique. There are others similar to you, but none exactly like you. You are superior to any other clone ever created by the Daemuns. Not even the Kaminoans could replicate a being from so long ago, much less implant the memories of your predecessor."

"Yes," Grevious said. A glow of pride blossomed subtly inside him.

"Don't you ever want to meet one who is capable of moving, of feeling, of thinking up to your level? An equal?"

"Not particularly. What would be the point? Greater than I, lesser than I, what does it matter to my being?"

Anre turned away from the traffic in the skies and looked at the cyborg. "Yet, you wish for tasks that will challenge you."

"Of course." A glimpse of his lightsaber was caught as the cape opened from a wisp of air.

"It is the same thing. Yes, it is dangerous to contend with one who might defeat you, and perhaps it is even more dangerous to consort with one who might someday stab you as you lie sleeping next to her; still, the possibilities are so much... more."

"There are billions of women, many of whom are more beautiful, more adept physically, even more dedicated," he continued. "Maybe even all three. But this one is the one I want and I <I>will</I> have her."

General Grevious nodded once. "Ah. Is this is why you have summoned me?"

He looked at him. The cyborg clone did understand, at least on some level. He nodded. "As much as I fancy her, I do not wish my emotions to cloud my judgement and compromise her mission. If she by any means makes any intention of treachery against me or the Imperium, then you must eliminate her."

"As you wish, High Regent. Vos will give me updates when called for."

He returned to his skygazing. "You may go now, General. There are expansions to be done in the name of the Dragon."

Grevious nodded and withdrew into the shadows of the balcony, his cape fluttering again in the soft breeze.

The party was over. It was time to turn in for the night...