World Tree MUSH

  Coordinates had been sent to Talia Kyras, her ship, or her contacts; whichever had been most suitable to receive a heavily encrypted message delivering coordinates and a time. It's at least not Imperial in origin, but it would take some of their top intelligence analysts to find that it originates... from the Rebel Alliance.

  Just not their Rebel Alliance.

  Oh, and somewhere under all the encoding and encryption, there are data markers that suggest this stuff's coming from a general.

  There's a nebula not far from the planet of Dantooine, off the Outer Rim, away from the busy thoroughfare of the Hydian Way. The nebula is not particularly noteworthy at all in and of itself: A pretty light show, but hazardous to navigate, and not much else. To all intents and purposes, this sector of space is depressingly empty.

  That's where the coordinates lead. Huh. Strange. Why would there be Rebel communique leading Talia out to the space equivalent of the middle of nowhere?

  Well, that's because there's a ship hiding there. The Rogue Shadow is virtually invisible as it waits for the Paragon's Legacy. With its hyperdrives silent, its sublight engines down to minimal output, and its stygium-powered cloaking device active, there's nothing to detect here but a slight temperature fluctuation. The gases in this nebula should be cold; too cold for star formation, so a blip of warmer ambient temperature reads more like a glitch.

  This is where the coordinates lead, though. There's no mistake about that.

    ND-77 and Talia were quite puzzled by the coordinates indeed. Then again, the middle of space-nowhere was a common spot for clandestine meetings, this could only mean they had some interesting friends. Talia had a suspicion who this 'general' was. Ever since she had crossed paths with Juno Eclipse, the old general had 'spook' all over her. Thane agreed. It was decided Talia would go only on her own accord, with the Paragon's Legacy traveling as an envoy in the hopes this would be a meeting with those who had similar interests to them. It was already hard enough to get off of Balmorra with a military junta with just Talia and ND, but she had her ways. At the very least ,she could go as a go-between for Commander Thane.

    The Rogue Shadow's instruments would pick up the Paragon's Legacy coming out of hyperspace. <I don't detect anything, just a blip of thermal energy.> The droid blipped. <I think we're being had here. THis was a bad idea.>

    Talia frowned. The Force hadn't let her down yet, she wasn't going to doubt her instincts just on a glitch. "Perhaps our 'general' just doesn't wish to be found easily. We will wait."

    <It's your funeral.> En-Dee trilled, as the engines powered down and the ship lazily drifted in space, growing motionless.

  It's the right patch of nowhere, that's for certain. That slight temperature flux isn't enough to give it away, but something else will; something only Talia's senses can pick up.

  Emotion.

  Even from this far away, it's easy to tell that the old general is here, somewhere. The closer to the Rogue Shadow the Paragon's Legacy drifts, the stronger the sensation.

  Anger. Despair. Grief. Hatred. All the markers one would expect of the Dark Side of the Force, particularly in the measure they're in here. Yet there's a tension to those raw feelings; a tautness and a sensation of tightly-maintained control.

  <<Adjust your heading to three four three, and proceed forward at one-eighth impulse.>> It's the same clipped, very definitely Imperial vocal inflections of one Juno Eclipse. <<Maintain position and I'll handle the docking procedure.>> Static washes across the band. <<I've done this enough bloody times to know.>> It seems more a grumble under her breath.

  The sound of the ships closing the distance is barely audible, so smooth is the delivery. It's not long before Juno stands in front of the sealed hatch, waiting in the sealed tunnel between hulls, arms folded.

  <<Request permission to board, Captain.>>

    Those emotions definitely sound like Juno alright. Talia thinks, about how easy it'd be for this to be a trap. And yet...

    That voice is all it takes for Talia to reach for the comm before ND-77 reaches out with an appendage. <You realize this isa great place to stab us. Could be mimicking that voice.> En-Dee points out.

    "A little faith, En-Dee." Talia presses the button anyway. "Permission granted. It's good to hear you again." She answers.

    The ship lines up with the Rogue Shadow, and docking is initiated.

    Talia will answer Juno at the docking port, as the door opens. She's ditched her tunic and cloak entirely, just dressed down with her boots, leggings and compression shirt, casual wear for the Jedi. She's not even got her lightsaber on hand, a show of good faith.

    "It's good to finally see you face to face properly, we didn't get to have much time to talk when everyone came to the settlement." Talia said with a smile. "Come in. Can I get you anything? Tea, refreshment? Our supplies are hardly luxury, but I did get some meilooruns the other day amongst a good supply of instant pashi...I suppose it'll have to do for us."

  There's a slight flare of annoyance from outside the boarding hatch, and as the door slides open, the general stands there with her arms folded. Juno looks about as short on patience as she always is. Her clothing is more smuggler's attire; a reinforced leather jacket over a sleeveless white tunic, tucked into cargo pants, a blaster pistol holster at each hip, and combat boots. The buckle on her belt clearly identifies her as a Rebel to those who know the signs; and a ranking General, at that.

  The blasters are in their holsters, but they're powered off. Going without weaponry would probably be a bit too much to ask of this skittish Rebel.

  "Too much to do." Last time, that is, and why they couldn't meet face to face. Juno's statement is somewhere between a gruff rejoinder and an agreement; it's hard to tell which. There's no answering smile, though maybe there's a bit less of a scowl. "Thank you, but no. I'm here to discuss business. And presumably, so are you."

  It's okay. She's only like this with, oh... everybody.

    So this isn't a social call. Natural. Juno wouldn't go to this much trouble to get to Talia if they were going to have lunch, after all. Still, Talia couldn't be blamed for trying right?

    En-Dee, a boxy droid akin to the Astromechs Juno is more accustomed to, wheels along. <Don't mind her, she's new to this secrecy thing. Jedi make poor spies.> The droid beeps in droidspeak.

    Talia lets that one slide. She nods regardless, and she motions for Juno to enter. "Alright then, business it is."

  A brief glance is cast over the droid, and Juno regards the astromech flatly for a moment. Can the woman actually understand Binary? If she does, she doesn't respond directly to the droid. Maybe not.

  "Since I don't need to trust speaking to any communication relays, this time, I can formally introduce myself: General Juno Eclipse of the Rebel Alliance." The woman snaps off a razor-precise salute before resuming that straight-but-slightly-tired posture. "While I cannot promise any ships or troops, what I can give you is intelligence on Imperial operations within my home galaxy... and who they've been dealing with lately."

  "I want to know what the First Order is up to." Juno folds her hands behind her back as she walks. Her eyes are cold, flat; there is a sense of tight-wound anger restrained below the surface. It's like the tension building on the magnetic field lines of a star: The lines tense and twist, and eventually, they'll snap violently back into place.

  "I want to know all of their offworld allies," Juno states crisply. "Who is sympathetic to them. Who is providing them with materials, personnel, and support. Then I will target those allies and neutralise them. The only way out of this is to strangle the First Order of their support." Again that anger roils below the surface. The field lines twist. "When they are without allies, then they may be divided and conquered."

    By the Stars, that's a lot to drop on someone. Talia and En-Dee exchange a blink before the Jedi regards the general. "Alright...I have...some questions about where you're from. You're obviously from a point in time either ahead or behind mine. I believe some answers are in order." Still, she can sense all of Juno's feelings about both of these factions. A long, simmering hatred that's like a knife in the stomach. It's a dangerous obsessive feeling, the kind Talia can relate to deep down.

    She remembers that bloody day, the look on Angither's face as he cut Master Furiel down after he and his Sith slaughtered her surrogate brothers and sisters...how he broke Runs-With-The-Wind's neck like he was slaughtering a lamb, how Jovan's head was lopped from his shoulders and kicked aside.

    Talia breathes in deep. "Alright. I'll help. You've proven yourself a steadfast enough ally so far. Your expertise against General Garo has been welcome so far, and will be in the coming fight. I help you, you help me."

    "Name your targets, and I'll see what I can do. That said, it might help if I know exactly who the First Order and this 'Empire' are."

    And then Talia cuts right to it. "When exactly are you from?"

  That dangerous, obsessive feeling is exactly why most Jedi Knights are cautioned against emotional attachment. While it can lend strength, it can also become a cycle of self-sustaining toxicity. Juno Eclipse is a case study in what happens when a person lives on thirty-five years of that poison.

  It does make her a really effective general, though.

  To the mention of being a steadfast ally, Juno's mouth twists. It's almost a smile, although it's more cynical than genuine. "Talia Kyras, I am a professional. If I go through the trouble of starting something, I'm bloody well going to finish it." All the mirth just sort of melts away, like sun on snow. "What I know is a bit left-of-centre, but the intel still seems valid."

  "Targets? I still have some information I have to line up, but I should have something to provide soon enough. If you want to help, you can accompany me to Nar Shaddaa. If I need information, it's probably circulating around there, for a price. Also, it wouldn't hurt to have the backup, because..." A faint sigh. "It's Nar Shaddaa." Some things are universal.

  "It's a long story. Sufficed to say, the Galactic Empire had the galaxy by the throat for a time until it was dismantled at the Battle of Yavin... and the First Order rose up from its ashes. They're not as widespread as the Empire ever was, but they're better equipped and somewhat more efficient, I'm sorry to say. That," she mutters irritably, rubbing at her jaw, "or the quality of our recruits is slipping..."

  She shrugs one shoulder, folding her arms and leaning against the bulkhead. "The year right now is 35 ABY. That's 'After the Battle of Yavin.'" Her eyes flick toward the corridor, off-handedly studying the ship. It looks a little less tired than the Rogue Shadow, she can't help but notice. "Good ship," she finally concedes, grudgingly. "She's in good repair."

    Talia...blinks. After Battle of Yavin...that's not any calendar she's familiar with. "It's currently...hmm. It's been two thousand years or so since the Mandalorian Wars were fought, between those clans and the JEdi who would later take the name Revan, and the War with the Eternal Empire...I can't imagine Zarkuul is involved with this new Empire of course. They've been reorganized into a Republic system ever since that war ceased."

    Regardless, they're getting off-topic. (And Talia's poor brain is about to short-circuit from the implications.) They need to get back to brass tacks. "Right. First Order. I'd need to know where to look, where they're most tightly circulated, how to identify them, that sort of thing. If you can spare any of that, I'd appreciate it."

  Both the chronology and the names are regarded somewhat blankly. Juno folds her arms and shifts her weight slightly, leaning against the opposite hip and frowning. Despite wracking her brain, thousands of years is a long span of time by anyone's standards. Her eyes slide out of focus as she calculates, briefly, in her head. How long ago exactly were the Mandalorian Wars? The whole messy issue with Revan? Hmm, and the Galactic Republic... no, she'll have to do some research, later, to connect all the dots and be sure of her answers.

  "I suspect there's a significant amount of drift between your galaxy and mine." Juno reaches up to rub the other side of her jaw, gaze straying to the middle distance of the corridor as she considers. "It's been a bloody long time since my history classes at the academy. I'm going to have to look this up, later. Too much to do right now."

  First Order. "Core Worlds. The Empire spread out from the heart of the galaxy. That's their primary base of operations. Worlds like Corellia are almost entirely Imperial in their makeup and their political climate." Juno's mouth twists. "It gets sketchier the further out to the Outer Rim you go, but that's the gist of it." Twisting her head, she reaches up to tap at her earpiece, murmuring into it in a brief but rapid-fire exchange with a polite, tinny voice on the other line. When she turns back, she gestures towards her ship. "I've got PROXY transferring the data to your ship's computer. He's also sending all of our valid navigational charts for every currently-mapped sector."

  "Right now I've been watching them on Tattooine. I don't know why they're on that sandy backwater, but I'm sure it probably has something to do with the local criminal cartel scene. I'll have PROXY send along the other information, too; I already have approval from the other generals to share the data with you. I'm taking a chance on collaborating with you," she adds, eyeing Talia flatly. "Don't make me regret it."

  It's just words. Her background level of annoyance hasn't really moved, so it's more of a bland statement of intent.

  "Beyond that, if there's anything else you need, PROXY and I will be happy to provide it."

  ...This woman looks like she hasn't been happy for at least thirty-five years. Maybe 'happy' isn't really the right word...

    "Indeed." Talia would have to play gumshoe on her own time. Regardless, they have much more important things to deal with at the moment. "I apologize, the whole world branch thing has been a lot to take in. We're off-topic."

    She listens intently, leaning against a wall as Juno explains, arms folded. "Tattooine...that's mostly Hutt clan territory, yes. I imagine they might be working together to some degree. I can look into it, I imagine you'd rather I keep my allegiances to myself there, which is understandable. I can at least blend in, if needed." She had been to Mos Espa before, mostly while tracking down spice smugglers who had friends in -very- high places, that had friends who wanted their vices catered to. It felt like such an innocent time by comparison, busting bad guys with her master and his other padawans...

    "Who do you have on-site?"

  Juno only dips her head and sighs, flicking a hand in dismissive gesture that's only... a little curt. She agrees with the sentiment, even if she's thin on patience. The World Tree is a lot for anyone to take in.

  "I'd assume that the Hutt Cartel plays for all the sides. They can't be trusted to serve anyone's interests but their own." That is to say, they aren't trusted with anything resembling intelligence, and that includes knowing who's a Rebel and who isn't. "In fact, every so often we make a point to feed the biggest cartels false intel, just to keep them busy on the wrong trails."

  "So. Yes. Blend in." That hand flicks again. A toss of her head clears her hair from her face; tied in a loose horsetail with the sides hanging loose at her face. The colour is a blonde a few shades shy of platinum, frosted in silver at her temples. "It would be easier that way, in any case.

  Who does she have on-site?

  "Nobody."

  Juno waits precisely three seconds, long enough to make the point that she's being entirely serious, before continuing.

  "Our resources are stretched pretty thinly, right now. We have allies from offworld, but the First Order does, too. It's become a bloody stalemate." The old general shakes her head, mouth twisting in displeasure. "However, one of our scouts was through the area a few days ago. According to rumour, there's a warehouse in Mos Espa's dockyards that has Imperial cargo. I don't know what it is, but it seems they're going to absurd lengths to keep secret what it is. If it's that important to them, I'm of the mind that it's worth our while to seize it. If we can't seize it, than we destroy it. Right now, what we need is more information on whatever it is they're storing... or building. They could be doing anything in that warehouse, but the security's tighter than a black market baron's on Nar Shaddaa. That in and of itself is unusual. Imperial presence on Tattooine was always light, even in the Galactic Empire's heyday."

    Well, stang. Talia grumps softly as she's confronted with the reality she's completely alone. Then again, she was alone until she reached Balmorra and met Thane. 

    Talia tightens her jaw a little, her expression neutral. "I understand, Juno. I'll make time to look into it. Thank you, Juno."

  "The Rebel Alliance is stretched too thin to play favourites." Juno's smile is blade-thin. "If it's any consolation, I'm on my own once we move into action, too; general or no. We've no additional resources to spare to stage any rescues in enemy territory."

  Juno snaps off a more casual salute, turning to walk back the way she'd come from the hatchframe. "Oh. One more thing." A data cylinder is offered. "Just in case the Rogue Shadow's transmission doesn't come through. This is all the data you requested. I'd prepared a copy of the data you'd requested; I'd had a feeling you might request it. This also has all the star charts I know to be accurate for the past month. There are also schematics for the common ship classes in my galaxy; Imperial, Rebel, and the most common of the neutral parties."

  The small item is tossed; evidently she trusts the Jedi's reflexes to catch it. In the same motion, she turns on her heel, boots ringing on the deck plating as she heads back towards her ship. "Stay out of trouble. PROXY and I will be in touch."

  Her voice is muffled by distance by the time she speaks her last.

  "May the Force be with you."

    Talia snags the cylinder handily as predicted. "One more question, do the Mandalorian and Kamoya know about this?" She wonders aloud, eyebrow arched as she hands off the cylinder to En-Dee to upload into the ship's computer. The boxy droid wheels off to do exactly that, whirring and beeping to herself.

    "I imagine they might be of use to us as well. The Mandalorian is predictable, he goes where the work is. Kamoya however is...I know her type. SHe tends be willful. It'll be a matter of time whether or not she aids us. I have hope that the Force brings our paths together."

    She also thinks about the little one, that tyke in the floating crib. At some point she needs to have a talk with the man in the Beskar about that little guy.

    That last word also gets a smile out of Talia. "And you as well, General." She bows her head in respect.

  "Not as of yet." Juno tosses the answer over her shoulder, casual. "I'm still piecing together the intel. Commodore Viedas thought it a solid lead, and I trust his provenance. Give it more time."

  On the others' usefulness, her answer is more distant. She's almost to the Rogue Shadow's hatch.

  "We can trust Mando." She believes absolutely in that assertion. "I've less experience with Kamoya, but one can expect Jedi to cleave to a certain moral standard."

  Juno pauses a beat.

  "Usually."

  "Well. Stay safe, until next time." Juno hauls against the hatch door, and it swings shut behind her with an imposing thud.

  It's a long time after she leaves that knot of anger, grief, and simmering hatred finally fades away.