Strategy Games

[Raif]

It was the middle of the night, and the Doppelgänger purred like a Nexu as it cut it's way through hyperspace.

In the cockpit of the luxurious-but-stealthy ship stood Royston Spektor, clad in smoking jacket and silk bottoms, sipping slowly from a bottle of sake. The clawdite Spymaster required very little sleep, and usually found the bluish-white backlighting of the cockpit during Hyperspace travel to be rather soothing. Tonight, though, it brought him no rest.

He turned and strode quickly from the cockpit and operations level, descending a ramp to the main living area. In stark contrast to the dark and ominously-lit upper operations level, the living quarters of the Doppelgänger were decked out to the highly-demanding specifications of Royston Spektor, all exotic hardwoods and hand-crafted leather upholstery.

And really, really nice liquor. Which Royston made his way towards in a hurry. He started to reach for his old standby, Chandrilan Brandy, when he stopped for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. He then moved with quick efficiency as he instead grabbed a dark, semi-spherical bottle, a couple of small glasses, and a wooden box from the wet bar.

He set these gathered items on a low table between a few leather armchairs, then reached into a cupboard in the wall and removed a small hookah. With practiced grace the Spymaster mixed a quick blend of blissweed and flavored tabac, added it to the Hutt-designed water pipe, and then made sure the smoking apparatus was lit and drawing correctly.

Holding the intoxicating smoke in his lungs for a few seconds, Roy then blew out a perfect ring. It floated for a second and then was scooped out of the air by the ship's exhaust system.

Roy went to "cleanse his palette" with the liquor he'd brought over, but poured two glasses and held them up toward the darkened corridor leading to the guest quarters.

"If you're going to lurk, Tiny, you might as well drink."

 

[Lucid]

"It's impossible to lurk in such a small space, jackass." Seamus said, moving away from the entrance to the ship's guest area. The small Jedi snatched the glass out of Roy's hand and took a curious swig...then spit it back out when the liquid burned his throat. "The ****?!" He gasped, his voice a strangled squeak. "Are you trying to kill me?!"

With his usual disregard for furniture, Seamus threw himself onto the nearest sofa and put his feet up on the coffee table. Without a shirt and without shoes, the already small man looked even smaller, dwarfed by the massive sofa and Roy's natural size. It was hard to think that he was the one who had just sent the Jedi spiraling into chaos only to wash his hands of the matter. The callousness of his actions was striking, to some, but to Seamus it had been a decision based on morals from eons ago. Regardless if he had made the right decision the fallout from it on a personal level was bleak.

"So now what?" He peered at Royston through the smoke. "While I appreciate your hospitality, I have nowhere to go. I have no money anymore...I doubt my bank accounts still exist. Not to mention," Seamus added with a scowl, "the closest thing I have to a friend is you.

 

[Raif]

Roy cocked his head back and laughed at Seamus' reaction, then tossed back his own drink, savoring the burn as the liquor entered his system.

"We've got to expand your palette a bit, kid. There's a whole galaxy of cool shit out waiting for you when you're not stuffed up in a Monastery."

Roy followed toward the lounge area, pouring more of the potent liquor into the two glasses as he went. He set one of the glasses and the bottle near and empty seat, then went toward a wood panel in the wall. Depressing it to reveal a concealed and refrigerated cabinet, Roy grabbed a small green fruit and a shaker of salt. He then set the condiments down near Seamus as well as his drink.

"Try it again with those - put the salt on the back of your hand, lick up the salt, drink the shot, and then bite the lime...

...I hear that's how pussies do it. I wouldn't know."

Roy laughed a bit more as he sat on his leather seat, sipping from his tequila a bit as he got comfortable. He arched his eyebrow as Seamus continued speaking, keeping his features blank as the ancient Jedi mentioned his bank accounts.

"First of all, Thumbelina, you're going to figure out pretty quickly that you're lucky to be where you are. I don't take on strays often, and those that I do tend to benefit from it greatly..."

Roy paused for a moment, finishing his second shot and pouring himself a third, which he promptly tossed back.

Andraste. Arcturus. Vica.

Empress. Dark Lord. Sith Lady and, if the rumours are true, my replacement on the Dark Council...

Roy mused a bit inside his own head as he refilled his drink for the fourth time, taking an appreciative sip of the flavor which his taste buds were rapidly losing their ability to detect. He was in the mood to get drunk.

With a kriffing 14,000 year old Jedi. Planning to assassinate her. I feel like any second I'm going to wake up in a gutter on Nar Shadaa with Thaed laughing at me and Varek glaring disapprovingly, liquor on my breath and spice in my veins...

Those days were long gone. No need to think about them now. Besides, there was something more important to discuss. As Roy had been sipping from his drink and chatting along inside his own head, he'd also been flipping open the arm rest of his lounge chair, pulling out a sleek data pad. As he continued speaking to Seamus, he let go of his tequila glassing, holding it with his mind next to him as he held the tablet with one hand and typed alarmingly fast with the other.

"You know...you mention your bank account..."

Roy chewed his lip for a moment as he looked down at the screen, then nodded his head in apparent success and handed it over to his guest.

"Among the stupidly rich, like myself, there's always been a bit of an urban myth. There's all sorts of boring back story and myth to it, of course, but the gist is that some ancient emperor or warlord or Jedi superhero --"

Roy waved his hand in the air in quotation marks as he said that last pronoun.

"-- stashed away some money in one of the Banking Clan's earliest branches a couple thousand years ago. And then died, or flew into a sun, or was defeated by somebody or other - the point is, the vault was agreed upon to last for perpetuity or whatever, and the Clan is all superstitious with their regulations, so it's never been opened. Whatever had been left in there, if it were ever opened, would have appreciated in value thousands of times over."

Roy leaned forward in his armchair, lifting an eyebrow again at Seamus and grinning as he watched his new friend's reaction to the article on the data pad.

"I swear on every bottle of liquor I own, if you turn out to be that damned superhero I will throw you off my ship."

WOOKIEEPEDIA​

The Mystery Vault of Muunilist.

Though the origins of the vault steeped in mystery remain unclear, this much is known to be fact - the earliest records concerning the vault could only be traced as far as the First Galactic Civil War, when a Neti recalled that the vault had never been opened in her near-600 year old life............................................

 

[Lucid]

Seamus chewed his lip as he thought. There was a possibility, just a slight chance, that it had survived...but it would mean telling a Bogan--Sith, he corrected himself--about Jedi affairs.

That happened fourteen-thousand years ago, you idiot. Like it matters now, he chided himself mentally.

"You know Roy," Seamus said slyly, a grin sliding slowly across his face. "When the Shadow were first created, Talzea and I agreed that I should regularly launder funds into an account under an alias so Shadow financing couldn't be traced. We made an agreement with the clan that held the account that it would never be opened, never removed or otherwise re-purposed unless they received a very specific order."

Without thinking, the young man grabbed his glass and downed the liquid in one. Though it looked like tea it tasted like fire, but Seamus had already been caught off guard once by Roy's beverages so he struggled to show no sign that the drink effected him at all.

"Is there any way," he continued, voice slightly hoarse, "that your hedonistic ass could pull up the the account? If I'm right, we picked the right bankers for the job."

 

[Raif]

Royston pulled deep from the hookah, feeling the tabac and blissweed hit him with a pleasant buzz to go along with the warm feelings caused by the liquor. He grinned as Seamus described his financial activities back in his previous time.

"Not bad, kid, I'd have done the same...though for possibly less-altruistic reasons."

Roy gave an impressed face when Seamus drank the liquor quickly and held back from retching. The recovering Sith reached forward and refilled Seamus' now-empty glass as an unspoken challenge to keep drinking. Roy then sat back in his seat, taking the data pad with him. A slight wuff caught his attention, and as Roy turned his attention toward the hallway leading to his quarters he saw his two recently-acquired hounds staring at this middle-of-the-night chit-chat with curiosity. The former Spymaster stared at the beasts for a second - he hadn't even come up with a name for them yet, and he surely hadn't taken the time to ask his brother before the elder Clawdite's grisly demise - then snapped his fingers once and pointed at the carpeted area of decking at his feet. Immediately the canines came silently trotting over, ears back and tongues lolling, before collapsing in a heap and settling in to nap. The larger of the two, the male, gave Seamus a very intense glare before settling down and closing his eyes.

Those things are a little creepy...

Roy shook his head to rid himself of the thought, then laughed a bit as Seamus asked him if he could access the account. His fingers were flying over the data pad before the ancient Jedi had even finished his request.

"You wound me, Arm Rest, by insinuating that I would ever engage in the sort of illegal network breach that you're -- Sweeat Baby Yoda!"

Roy had been multitasking, of course, and was busy engaging in exactly the sort of network breach Seamus was asking for when the results loaded on the screen. Understandably there wasn't much information, just an account number and a projected balance. It was the last number, of course, that had caused Royston to interrupt himself with that exclamation.

"Kriff me, Squirt, we've got to get your scruffy ass into that vault. You're about to go certified baller status. Huttspit, you're going to be richer than me...what the..."

Roy handed the data pad over so Seamus could view the account balance himself, the former Sith Lord sounding more shocked as he continued talking and his brain registered the number he'd seen.

It had a lot of zeros. Like, a lot.

"I'll tell you one thing - the Force can't hold a candle to the combined power of compound interest and time travel."

 

[Lucid]

It was amazing, really, to think that it had remained intact for such a long time. The Jedi Master snatched the datapad from Roy and looked at the projected value on the screen. The number was so astronomically large, that he had to read it six or seven times. Even then he couldn't fully grasp it.

Seamus reached for his glass and downed it in one. It got easier every time and he gestured at Roy to fill it back up.

"You know," said Seamus, "all we know is that it's still there and still collecting interest...but it doesn't look like the sum has increased for quite some time." He gazed at Roy, noticing, not for the first time how good looking he was, then shook his head...the drink had worked quickly it seemed. "I mean, it's not surprising, if the vault fell into control of some syndicate or something. They could easily use the interest to fund their activities even if they couldn't access the vault itself. We'll have to deal with that later...not something I can process right now."

Seamus set the datapad aside and heaved himself up off the sofa and headed towards the dogs. He'd always liked animals, and they'd always liked him. He found them easier to deal with than people, they didn't have hidden agendas or expectations of conduct the same way sentient beings did. The one that had locked eyes with him earlier stirred and opened its eyes as he approached, filling the room with a low rumbling as it growled.

"Hey!" Seamus barked to the dog. "You know better."

Showing no hesitation or intimidation he plopped himself down on the floor and reached a hand towards the big animal and held it in front of its face projecting calm an reassurance through the Force. The hound sniffed his hand and wagged its tail then promptly rolled over onto its back and fixed Seamus with an imploring look. The Jedi Master laughed and rubbed the hound's belly nearly being knocked over as the other one came round and butted his head into Seamus' chest, seeking the same attention. He scratched its ears and looked back to Roy who seemed slightly astonished.

"Hey, Mondo," he said playing with the dogs like they were nothing more than puppies, "you never said you had these guys!" The small Jedi Master was like a kid, rolling around on the ground wrestling with the savage hounds, the dogs and Seamus were the same breed after all.

"So what do you want to do now?" He asked from beneath the bigger one, voice muffled by fur. "Still going to go after Andraste? Or do you have bigger aims?"

He giggled as one of the dogs licked his ear. "Gerroff me!" Pushing the dog aside, he sat up and looked Roy square in the eyes. "You seem the type of guy who'd prosper from a galaxy of chaos."

 

[Raif]

Roy refilled Seamus' glass, taking a healthy swig of his own and raising his eyebrow as the Jedi shrugged off his potentially missing money. However small the missing amount may have been compared to what else was in the vault, Roy personally would have been highly interested in having a word or two with any being who felt fit to take what was his.

His other eyebrow raised to join its twin as Royston stared on in some shock at how comfortable Seamus was with the large, somewhat intimidating canines. He couldn't help but chuckle a bit as his memories played.

"Careful there, Junior Mint, the last guy down on the ground with 'em like that didn't get back up. He didn't have much of a face left, either. Hence why they're new additions to my menagerie, just like you - my pet Jedi."

Roy laughed, finishing off his - what was it now, fifth shot? sixth? - before hastily and somewhat sloppily refilling his glass. He also took the time to take several deep breaths from the hookah, getting the good tingles as he listened to Seamus speak. The Clawdite's features hardened quickly, though, by the time Seamus finished with his final question. The former Sith paused for a moment, chewing over his words a bit, before he spoke.

"You've got no idea, kid. Eighteen months ago I would have been having a field day amidst all this nonsense. It's funny you refer to it as chaos..."

Royston's wrist flicked and in a blur of motion his most recent shot of tequila had been swallowed. They were going to need a second bottle soon - and hope that Murielle didn't wake up any time soon. She'd probably be upset at them either for being up this late drinking or for doing it without her. He didn't let his thoughts get sidetracked, though, and he quickly continued speaking.

"...years ago, when she came to me - Andraste, I mean - when she placed me on her council and raised me to the rank of Lord, she gave me a new name - my Darth name - to signify this ascension. The name she chose, and the name I went by until very recently, was Tarak. It's Old Clawdite for chaos."

He giggled a bit at his words, enjoying the mellowing effect that the combination of tequila and blissweed was having on him.

"As for what's next, well, as far as I'm concerned it's the same thing we do every night, Pinky - we try to kill Andraste. In the mean time, though, I'm going to call in every favor and wrangle every tin-pot political leader I can find with a grudge against the Imperium, and I'm going to weave together some sort of bastard monster of a coalition to make sure that once I equalize that bitch -"

Roy's hand jabbed forward for a second, fingers stiffened into a knife's edge, as if he was plunging a blade into Andraste's heart right then and there. He then blinked, realizing what was going on, and quickly licked up a bit of the liquor that had spilled out during his demonstration.

"- where was I? Oh yeah, once I take care of the Empress, there's got to be something in place to keep all the little dogs from killing each other while fighting over the scraps. So I'm going to try my damnedest to build something good, and lasting...for the first time in my life, probably. But hey, who said you can't teach an old Gundark new tricks, eh?"

 

[Lucid]

Chaos. Andraste. Rebuild.

Maybe it was because of the secondhand blissweed and multiple shots of tequila, Seamus just couldn't get those thoughts out of his head after his friend had stopped speaking. There was something about this whole situation that bugged him. Something he had sensed back in his time that had been so faint..so faint. But it had been there.

Seamus opened himself fully to the Force. He pulled it through him as he lost himself in that secondary plane, searching always looking. He was trying to pinpoint just what he had been sensing for millennia. He didn't even notice when the dogs, who had been lying on him snoozing peacefully, sprang up and backed away growing. Faint shimmers of green fire began to run along the Jedi's body as he drew even more of the Force into himself. The carpet began to smoke, but he still didn't seem to notice. Images of the past present and future assailed his mind as green fire began to dance in his eyes. Seamus looked far down the spectrum of the Force. Then, just as he felt himself reaching a threshold that he didn't quite want to pass he felt it.

"Roy!" He breathed, not noticing his friend's horrified expression. "Do you remember what we were talking about on Ebberla's ship? How the Force is starting to move of it's own accord? That it created Andraste?"

An animated light came to the young Jedi's face, the pieces finally clicked into place in his mind. "Well that wasn't quite right, there's more to it than that. The Force--" He cut himself off, finally noticing that his pants were all but non-existent and that Roy was still looking at him as though he had grown six heads. "What? What happened? Are you alright?"

 

[Raif]

Roy had seen a lot in his day. To put it more frankly, he'd been privy to some pretty weird shit over the course of his life. But nothing quite prepared him for Seamus' little melt-down.

Reacting like the trained soldier and assassin that he was (though rarely acted like), Roy tumbled backwards over the sofa he'd been lounging in as a pulse of energy threatened to set his own trousers ablaze. Amazingly enough - or perhaps, given that this was Roy we're talking about, it should be expected - he managed to neither spill any alcohol or knock over his hookah during his acrobatic evasion. The two silver-grey canines fled to join their Master behind the relative safety of the couch.

As Seamus looked at Roy questioningly, the former Sith picked himself up, running a quick hand over his hair and his loungewear to make sure that nothing was amiss.

"What happened? Let me answer your question with two of my own:

First of all, I hope you realize you owe me a new rug..."

As he spoke, Roy flicked his hand and one of the couch cushions flew none-too-gently towards Seamus' midsection as a make-shift covering for the Jedi's sudden nudity.

"...secondly, and only slightly more important...what the kriff was that?"

 

[Lucid]

Still lost in thought, not quite aware of exactly why Roy had sent a cushion driving into his midsection, Seamus stood up and started pacing back and forth. He felt more comfortable while in motion and with the last eddies of Force fire still alive within him, sitting still wasn't something that he felt like doing just then.

"That," he said as walked furiously back and forth, "was what happens when you draw too hard on the Force too quickly. I was searching for something that's bothered me since I first learned about the broader nature of the Force...and I found it!" He spun to face Royston and the motion made him finally realize why his friend had tried to stab him a cushion and sat down quickly.

"Anyway," he continued, trying to ignore how red his face had become, "how in the hell do you plan to tackle a problem like Andraste. If I'm right, she exists outside the realm of reason. She was created by the Force. She is a living manifestation of the Force and she, in her consciousness and lust for the power she commands, grew too strong. The Dark Side is winning this war and I feel that the Force itself has become aware of that fact.

"And it doesn't like it."

 

[Raif]

Roy just stared up at the ceiling as Seamus paced back and forth, waiting for his newfound friend to finally sit down.

Walking back around to take a seat on the couch once more - and glaring angrily between his scorched rug and Seamus as he took several deep breaths from the hookah - Roy listened as Seamus spoke. He could feel himself becoming rather serious, though slightly somber, as Seamus finished with his question.

The former Sith didn't look at the ancient Jedi as he spoke, instead letting his gaze wander off.

"You said it yourself. She's a living manifestation of the Force. I plan on making her un-living as soon as I can."

As Roy spoke he reached forward, almost mechanically, and grabbed his tequila glass.

"I'm going to walk right up to that bitch and cut her throat."

Roy knocked back the shot, wiping a stray bead of liquor from the edge of his lips with the back of his hand.

"And I may just be the only stupid mother****er in this galaxy who can actually pull it off."

Roy looked down, realizing that the glass was just about to shatter in his hand as he unconsciously squeezed his hands into fists. He took a deep breath, forcibly relaxed his hands, and then exhaled.

"Let's see how the Force likes that."

 

[Lucid]

"Can you?" Condesention dripped from Seamus' words as he spoke. Green fire danced in the Jedi's eyes as his hand snapped out and the Force slammed Roy into the far wall and held him there, immobile and helpless. "I exist on the side of reason and yet I can do that with only a thought. I don't know what the damned woman meant to you, but she's bigger than your problem alone."

Seamus released Roy from the Force hold, pinning him to the wall and floated him to the sofa and sat him down gently then sighed. He'd seen too many people try to do this, think that they could head forth into the world righting all wrongs only to die before they could do anything. "I had thought," the naked Jedi continued, "that you would at least have a plan of some sort rather than just 'make her un-living'."

He started to get up again, looked down, flushed red and sat back down quickly. Leaning over to the table he grabbed the bottle of tequila and downed half of what remained in one before turning back to Roy.

"Uh...could you grab me a spare pair of pants?" He asked sheepishly. "I don't really mind this," Seamus gestured towards his legs, "but it seems to upset you...and you are my host so it's best to play by your rules."

 

[Raif]

Royston rolled his eyes and had to stop himself from straight up yawning in boredom when Seamus threw him against the bulkhead. He'd been tossed around enough times by super-powered Force users for it to not really register much alarm.

As he straightened his clothing and walked back toward Seamus, a look of condescending annoyance on his face, he began focusing his Force energy inward. Often times, force sensitive individuals have a certain skill or ability that just seems to come naturally to them; for some it's telekinesis, for others it can be illusions - for Royston Spektor, it was the ability to hide his presence in the Force. He'd obviously made great use of the ability throughout his years as a spy - he'd even infiltrated the Mandalorians right under the nose of, as well as been personally trained by, former Jedi Master-turned-Mandalorian Mitya Ivanovna.

By the time the former Sith got back to the seating area - which had quickly been vacated by the two hounds, instinctively knowing better than to stick around when Force powers started flying - he would, for all intents and purposes, simply not be there in the Force. There were limits to the ability, of course, and Seamus for instance would have no trouble focusing his own senses and detecting Roy - but that was because he could see him, and knew to look for him.

"You know, all you mega-powerful Force using demigods are all the same - you get too wrapped up in all the flashing lights and special affects, and lose appreciation for the beauty in simplicity."

Roy retook his seat casually, puffing on the hookah as if he wasn't debating the finer points of his personal assassination technique.

"If Andraste was just a simply, every day run-of-the-mill despot, there's no chance someone like me could get within fifty feet of her without permission. But this is Andraste we're talking about - the thought that someone could evade her own senses doesn't even register as a possibility to her. As long as she doesn't see me, and I happen to be rather well-suited at making sure that doesn't happen, of course, then there shouldn't be a problem.

Beyond that, a simple ceramic blade and a fast-acting neurotoxin ought to do the trick rather nicely."

Roy blew out a smoke ring, a rather good one if he said so himself, and waited to see what Seamus' next over-the-top reaction would be.

These ancient time wizards are a feisty bunch it seems...

Roy simply raised his eyebrow as Seamus asked for a spare set of trousers, a look on his face as if he knew something the older/younger Jedi didn't. Which was true for a whole lot of reasons, but in this instance it was because within moments of making his request, out walked Nerb the butler with a pair of simple black slacks. The mute manservant would simply walk into the lounge area of the ship, drop off the clothing, and then walk back to his quarters adjacent to Royston's.

Roy stared at Seamus with a growing grin crossing his features.

"My boy Nerb's wicked good at his job. I bet you those things are custom tailored, too."

 

[Lucid]

Seamus regarded the pants with a look usually reserved for poisonous animals. Naked or not, he couldn't wear those. They were something Roy might wear. But he also didn't want to insult the butler any more than he already had. Burning a carpet and throwing people across a living room would surely make for more work for the man later. With a nod of thanks, Seamus took the offered slacks and then looked back to his friend.

"...turn around," he said flatly. Roy simply cackled madly and fixed his eyes on the ceiling while Seamus hastily donned the clothing. The dapper man had been right, they were custom tailored. Seamus was amazed at how well they fit, making a mental note to ask Nerb later if he would be able to come up with more clothes.

"Ok. You can stop checking the ceiling for cracks," the Jedi Master seated himself once again on the sofa and poured another drink, misjudging the distance from bottle to glass and nearly stained his new pants. Hastily he used the Force to lift the spilled liquid to the glass and knocked it back, wondering just how to tell his friend how idiotic he sounded. It was best to be blunt. "You're an idiot. A stubborn one too. When you fail, I reserve the right to say 'I told you so'."

He gave Royston a piercing look, maybe he could pull it off. Just maybe. "So, tell me your plan. Good comedy is always appreciated."

 

[Raif]

Roy smirked as he turned his head to preserve Seamus' modesty, then shook his head as he took Seamus' sarcastic rebuke in stride. He took another deep pull from the hookah, feeling good and lit at this point, and smiled like a cheshire cat as he blew the smoke out from his nostrils like some ancient draconic beast.

"And I reserve the right to refuse to acknowledge failure."

Seamus asked then for Roy's plan, and the former Sith licked his lips a bit before answering.

"Tell you my plan? That...could take some time. I have an idea."

Roy got up quickly and popped open a hidden cupboard, pulling out a relatively small leather box. He then set it on the small end table between them, opening it up to reveal a board game which he rapidly began assembling.

"This is an old board game I learned a long time ago in the Outer Rim. It's a good way to help get your mind thinking on the right levels to grasp everything I'm about to throw at you. Well, the blissweed may help with that as well, by all means take a hit if you'd like. Either way, I hope you brought a pad to take notes..."

Roy would then begin teaching Seamus the game while also unveiling the details of his own master plan. As the ancient Jedi became more familiar with the one, it helped reveal the layers and the depth involved in Roy's schemes. It was grand, it was ambitious, it was more-than-borderline-ludicrous - but if everything fell into place...

Well, it just may keep the galaxy from imploding. On a more personal note, it may serve to help erase the blood on the hands of one former Sith Lord and Spymaster. If only a little.