INTERLUDE
Coruscant, moments earlier
Despite being the host of his own party, Luewet Wuul felt like an outcast.
As Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance, this was already a strange feeling in and of itself. In fact, he should have been the last person to ever feel like an outcast; he was president of the galaxy, for stars’ sake.And yet, he felt like he was being shunned by the very people he was supposed to represent.
Still, he would have been lying if he said he wasn’t surprised by the turnout of guests at this banquet he had set up. While he had invited members of both major political parties to this event, he had mainly expected members of the Populist party to attend, as they were perhaps some of his only supporters in the Senate. Indeed, the very reason he was hosting this party to begin with was to garner as much support as he could from his party in the face of rumors of a plot to remove him from power. The next election was not for another two years and yet there had been whispers of many in the Senate — primarily those from the Centrist party — moving to remove Wuul from office and replace him with one of their own.
As far as he and his intelligence agents could tell, there was no solid evidence of such a plot existing. Indeed, many of those who had been said to be behind such a plot — such as Senators Treen and Sindian — were here at the banquet, enjoying themselves, among others he had considered to be his enemies. Perhaps it was all just for show, to lure him into a false sense of security… or maybe he was just being paranoid. Still, that did not explain the cold shoulders that everyone appeared to be giving him….
A tap on the shoulder snapped Wuul out of the daydream-like state he had found himself in and he spun around to see a well-dressed Pantoran male standing in front of him.
“Chief Wuul,” the blue-skinned man said with a curt nod. He extended a hand to the Sullustan President. “An honor to finally meet you in person.”
Wuul carefully shook the hand, eying the silver-haired Pantoran in his maroon outfit warily. “I don’t believe we’ve been properly introduced…?”
“Ah, my apologies. Chairman Dryphan Lorr of Pantora, at your service. Senator Kivoda brought me here as her guest.”
“I am honored by your presence, Chairman,” Wuul said. “Since the founding of the New Republic, Pantora has been a close ally to both it and the Galactic Alliance.”
He winced inwardly at how vapid and cliché that sounded. Chairman Lorr seemed to notice as he smiled thinly.
“It certainly has,” he said dryly. “It’s been good meeting you.”
The Pantoran leader walked away and Wuul cursed to himself. Perhaps this was why so many people wanted him gone so soon after being elected; he was so bad at pretending to care that no one had the patience for it.
He continued to wade his way through the sea of guests, wandering over to a window that looked out from the 500 Republica into the streets of Coruscant. The lights of passing airspeeders lit up the night as they passed by.
“Ah, Senator Naberrie! Congratulations on your engagement to Lady Teramo.”
Wuul turned around to see a short, round man shaking hands with a much taller, much younger one. He recognized the short man as Harfang Nevis of Orinda while the younger man was unmistakably Darius Naberrie of Naboo, a rising star in the Senate.
“Thank you, Senator Nevis,” said Naberrie. “The wedding is in a few days. I must admit that I am rather anxious about it.”
“I’m sure plenty of us can relate,” Nevis chuckled, throwing his head back to drain the glass of wine he was carrying. “At least you have the honeymoon to look forward to, eh, eh?”
Darius smiled politely at the shorter senator but did not answer him. His eyes lifted up and briefly met Wuul’s before he walked off to speak with the Nautolan senator Vossa, who was wearing a dress that showed much more of her body than what Wuul considered to be appropriate.
Then again, what did he know?
Sighing to himself, Wuul continued to make his way through the party, looking for someone willing to give him more than five seconds of their time. Senator Roo Matha of Quermia was deep in conversation with the Caamasi representative Nithal Q’Arts, Senator Kersla was chatting with Senator Sindian… each person he approached, it was as if he did not even exist. Despite being one if not the most important person in the galaxy, he was being treated as if he was nothing more than bantha fodder. Such blatant disrespect was sure to be in violation of some kind of law… though, as Chief of State, he would surely know of such a law and yet none readily came to mind.
The next person to acknowledge his existence after Chairman Lorr was a young female server with vibrant magenta hair, who offered him a glass of wine. He accepted it before turning in time to see a sharply dressed man enter the room, a woman dressed in white attached to his arm.
“By the moons of Iego,” exclaimed Senator Nevis, raising a newly refilled glass. “If it isn’t Tyron Valrisa!”
Several heads turned to look at the Senator of Sedratis, who merely nodded in acknowledgment. As he accepted a drink from a Togruta server, Senator Carise Sindian practically sidled up to him and clung to his other arm.
“We’ve all heard the news about the Dowager,” she said in a voice that bordered the line of faux sympathy. “I am sorry about your loss.”
“So am I,” Senator Valrisa grunted in return. “But I am already past it. Better to focus on the present and look to the future, rather than glancing back at the past.”
Sindian made a swooning sound that made both Wuul’s eyes and sensitive ears twitch. “Such wise words. Words that all of us should live by. I think you would make a fantastic candidate.”
Tyron raised an eyebrow at her. “A candidate for what?”
“For Chief of State, of course.”
Wuul took in a sharp breath, the grip around his glass tightening. No one seemed to notice him as more guests began to crowd around Senator Valrisa, vying for his attention.
“I do believe this leaves you as the sole heir of House Valrisa, does it not?” asked Senator Nevis.
“It does,” Tyron confirmed. “Though my wife and I have been discussing the topic of children.”
“Ah, that must be this beautiful woman here.” Nevis extended a hand to the woman in white accompanying Tyron. “And you would be?”
“Edi,” she said, shaking the proffered hand. “Short for Ederlathh, though I never cared much for that name.”
“Ederlathh,” Nevis repeated, tugging on the edges of his mustache. ”That name sounds familiar. Where have I heard it before?”
“You say that to all of the attractive women you meet, Harfang,” guffawed the Senator of Kedorzha. He raised his glass to the ceiling. “A toast to Senator Tyron Valrisa! And to Senator Darius Naberrie! These strong young men represent the future of the Galactic Alliance!”
The rest of the room joined in on the toast and Wuul found himself reluctantly partaking. He took a small sip from his glass, savoring the bitter taste of the wine.
As he returned his attention to the rest of the room, he noticed that everything had suddenly gotten darker. He blinked and rubbed his eyes, only to be greeted with the same darkness. Everyone’s voice started to become more faint and distant, as if they were coming from another room. Setting down his glass, he tried to speak but the words came out as a garbled mess. He stepped towards the Kedorzhan senator, his feet feeling as if they were being weighed down by cinder blocks, and tapped them on the shoulder.
“WHAT DO YOU WANT?” a dark voice shrieked in his ears.
Wuul yelled out as his vision was soon filled with demonic figures with glowing red eyes. One by one their heads turned to look at him, tendrils of shadow trailing out of their shapeless bodies and reaching out towards him.
“IS SOMETHING WRONG, CHIEF WUUL?” the voices said in unison.
“Get away from me!” Wuul cried, staggering back. He tripped over his feet and fell onto his rear. “I said get away!”
The demons did not heed him, continuing to close in on him. He reached into his coat and drew a holdout blaster. His hands shook as he raised the weapon at the approaching creatures.
“Don’t make… don’t make me….”
“WE ONLY WANT TO HELP. LET US HELP YOU.”
Luewet Wuul, Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance, let out a bellowing cry as he fired his blaster. Green bolts of plasma rang out from the small silver weapon, only to be knocked out of his hand by one of the tendrils. A strong hand then pushed him to the floor, holding him in place.
“IT DOESN’T NEED TO END LIKE THIS.”
“Please,” Wuul whimpered. He felt saliva begin to bubble up in his throat, froth forming around his mouth. “Make it stop… make it all….”
The darkness heard his pleas and heeded them. The shadows closed in on him and Luewet Wuul allowed them to take him.
* * *
A sea of senators and security officers had crowded around Luewet Wuul’s body, marveling at the show he had just put on before expiring. Nearby, medics were tending to the wounds of two Senators that had been singed by Wuul’s blaster, though none of their injuries would be fatal.
With the rest of the room distracted, Vixen had managed to slip out and rush back to her quarters. Typically, a server like the one she had dressed as would not have been able to afford a room in a building as prestigious as the 500 Republica. However, one of the senators had taken a fancy to her and bought her a place to stay for the duration of the party. No doubt they had been expecting something in particular from her in return… but with the Chief of State of the Galactic Alliance now dead, they were sure to have more pressing matters at hand.
As soon as she was in her room and the door had closed behind her, Vixen fished out her comlink and raised it to her mouth. “It's done,” she exhaled, releasing the breath she had been holding in. “Luewet Wuul is dead.”
“You’re kidding,” responded Sal Orbego. She could already picture the shocked expression on the Pa’lowick’s face. “Are you sure he’s dead?”
“I’m sure,” she said sharply. “If you don’t believe me, you can check the HoloNet in the next five minutes or so. Anyway, I’m going to need someone to pick me up. They’re surely going to start locking down the building, if not the entire planet.”
“Uh, right.” Orbego went silent for a moment. Vixen figured he was speaking to someone else on the other end. He then came back and said, “We have already arranged for someone to retrieve you. You will be seeing them shortly. Malvis will then give you your next task… though, after this one, I doubt it will be that difficult for you in comparison.”
Vixen smirked to herself. “Good. I look forward to it.”
As soon as she ended the call, the door behind her swooshed open and her heart skipped a beat. She stood there frozen in place as the newcomer stepped in before closing the door again.
“Well done,” a familiar voice graced her ear. “The fate of the galaxy has been sealed.”
Vixen allowed herself to relax before turning to face her senator benefactor. “I don’t suppose there’s time to give me my reward before we leave?”
“Oh.” Darius Naberrie smiled. “I’m sure there’s plenty.”
* * *
“Well, she wasn’t wrong. It’s all over the HoloNet.”
“Excellent,” Malvis rumbled from behind Sal Orbego. “The pieces are falling into place. I’ve already gotten word that the forces of the First Order are moving to occupy the Dominus and Ojoster sectors, as well as the Tion Cluster.”
Orbego frowned as he processed this. “Won’t that be basically boxing in the Calamari sector as well?”
“Yes?” Malvis replied.
“Mon Cala is a major world of the Alliance. It’s home to the Mon Calamari Shipyards, for stars’ sake! As soon as they learn what the First Order is doing, they’re gonna mobilize their fleet and—”
“They won’t,” Malvis said sharply. “By that point, they will be helpless to do anything. Because the Alliance will already be dead by that point.” He gestured to the viewscreens displaying the HoloNet’s reports on Luewet Wuul’s death. “As you can see for yourself.”
Orbego folded his skinny arms over his barrel-shaped chest. “You seem pretty confident that this is all it will take to bring the Alliance to its knees.”
“It was already on its knees, my friend,” Malvis chuckled. “All we’ve done is deliver the killing blow.”
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