Pomp and Ceremony

"The food is getting worse at these things, we will have to impeach the council for serving this swill," the speaker lamented and motioned to a plate of food on a nearby table. The crowd responded with a polite round of applause and laughter. Geda Kallo looked over to the five robed figures sitting at the head table on the far side of the room. They were all clapping politely but she could see the distaste plain on their faces. Tusta, the white skinned Zabrak, was becoming a favorite amongst the organization. Despite years upon years of democratic elections for the Council, there was always a desperate scramble for power amongst the Council member. It was an unfortunate reality that most Council members died before vacating their position. It had been suggested at almost every meeting that a term length be imposed to encourage "new blood" and limit the stagnancy which inevitably arose from extended tenures but the Council always used their veto powers to overrule the motion, thus extending their position indefinitely. Still, Tusta would have to be careful. He was cherished amongst the newer generation of the organization. 

A round of applause jostled Geda from her thoughts and she blindly joined in. Tusta was waving and bowing from behind the podium and motioning for the older man at the center of the table to come forward. After politely dismissing the invitation, he 'reluctantly' stood up and feigned surrender. Geda rolled her eyes and joined in the applause again.

"I hate all this ceremony," she muttered. 

"I do think the black looks good on you though," a voice said from behind her. She turned slightly and saw Tusta grinning from ear to ear. She snorted and adjusted the black tunic which she had on. Only the council had to wear the full ceremonial robes with the golden hem. As an acolyte, she was privileged to wear the black tunic and pants. They were made of a coarse and uncomfortable materiel with boxy triangular shoulders meant to symbolize something she never understood. Tusta made they seem stylish somehow. She was sure he had his own robes tailored. She didn't exactly know what the Zabrak was outside of the organization, she assumed some sort of political figure or maybe even an actor. Most members elected to keep their personal lives secrets as it added to the forbidden allure which drew them to the community in the first place. She didn't see why now though. She had heard from some of the older members that as little as fifty years ago there used to be Galactic Republic and CIS members, both part of the organization and while war still raged silently. After the eruption of the Clone Wars, it was difficult for these two warring factions to be seen together, let alone cooperate, so the left. This severely diminished their ranks but the recent destruction of the Death Star had roused a spirit of rebellion amongst the political leaders and elites - this community provided an outlet for that spirit while not at all placing them in any real danger. Geda leaned back and smiled at Tusta.

"Quiet now, we wouldn't want to anger Elder Orus any more than he already is. He could hurt himself you know. He's quite delicate at his age," she mused. 

"There isn't enough bacta on Thyferra to keep that old womp rat alive," Tusta muttered in reply. A few of the members around them snickered and covered their mouth quickly with their sleeves to hide their expressions. 

The applause quieted at the older man took up position behind the podium. He was an older man and seemed to be a mass of wrinkles. He had beady little eyes that had sunk back into his head and a wisp of hair covered his pate. He smiled at the crowd, a look he intended to look jovial but that Gedo could only categorize as senile. 

"Good evening brothers and sisters. It is my great pleasure to speak to you noble men and women of the cause. For over three-thousand years. We have kept the faith, stayed vigilant, and remembered why so many before us have perished in the defense of those who cannot defend themselves," he said, quoting the old texts. Gedo sighed, she had heard a similar lamentation nearly a hundred times in her service. 

Like many others, Gedo was drawn into the organization by the allure of the unknown. The cause itself was enough to draw even the most placid of parties in. Join an ancient order, thousands of years old, in the defense of the galaxy against an evil greater than anyone has seen before. Those were the words which had drawn her in. The initiation served to heighten the anticipation. A series of rituals and combat-centric tests which built the question of what do they do once they are full-fledged acolytes. She remembered all too well her anticipation when she was invited to her first meeting. She had maneuvered her way to the front of the crowd so she could be as close as possible to the Elders. Elder Ti Wonb, a female Sullustan also late into her years, had taken to the podium - and then delved into a ninety minute presentation about the appropriate allocation of tithed credits within their bank account. All members were expected to tithe a hefty 15% of their income towards 'the cause'. Other than providing mediocre food at the gatherings and paying comfortable salaries for the Elders, she was unaware where the credits actually went. They were even expected to purchase their own robes. The next 10 years remained a disappointment for Gedo. She would have left the community; however, where they lacked in surreptitious clout, they made up for in political connections. Anyone who left the organization was often subject to personal and financial ruin due to the extensive network that the organization provided. So she was stuck, as a loyal acolyte and subject to listen to Elder Orus prattle on once a month at the gatherings. She supposed there were worse hobbies she could have; like spice. 

"-it was the height of the Old Republic, a time of opulence and innovation, when our benevolent founder struck down the Enemy," he said and emphasized the words. She always thought it was amusing that they never spoke the name, as if it granted the long-dead Sith some semblance of power. 

"-knowing that that the threat still existed, a bastion of defenders was formed, to protect the galaxy from this great evil and ensure that complacency did not render us ill-equipped for the Enemy's inevitable return. Thus - the Hand of Serocco was born," he finished and raised his hands in a reverent manner to the vaulted ceilings. His words were echoed by another polite round of applause and a low murmur of agreement. She had always found the name so ominous. She knew Seracco was some backworld planet on the Outer Rim which, according to the Elders, their founder had battled the Enemy three thousand years prior. From what she gathered, the battle was actually quite useless as they battled again on another planet, Corelean, where the Enemy was actually defeated; however, the Hand had chosen Seracco as their patron planet. She doubted anyone in the room had ever actually been to the planet as it was horribly inconvenient to get to, off any well known trade routes and lacking anything of value other than some alleged connection to their organization's past.

"-the quest of the Hand is not one to be taken lightly. It is ridden with hardship and strife. Only we understand the true nature of the Enemy and we must ensure we are prepared. For this reason, the Council has voted on increasing the tithing to 17% in order to ensure adequate-" he said but was drowned out by a chorus of disgruntled murmurs and shouts. Elder Orus frowned, as if he was aghast at the outburst. The remaining four Elders at the table stood up and started to yell at specific individuals to quiet down. 

"And now, the real fun begins, " Tusta murmured into her ear. She nodded with a smirk and settled in for a long debate now which would end with the increase of tithes, due to the ever so convenient "Council Emergency Powers" which could be called upon in a crisis. Fortunately for the Council, the definition of 'crisis' has never been truly fleshed out so she had seen them used from everything from disagreements about uniforms to the pursuit of a defector.  

The door to the chamber slammed open, letting out a deafening boom which silenced the crowd. The security guards watching the door stepped forward as a bedraggled old man pushed between them. He was wearing old padded armor which looked to be covered in dirt and grime. He had a long white hair and a unkempt beard. He seemed like he had just crawled out of a gutter but his eyes were wild with fear, excitement, and a deluge of other emotions. 

"She is gone!" he cried out. He stumbled through the crowd, which parted rapidly away from the man, and crawled towards Elder Orus. He had nearly made it before the two guards, now awake from the complacency seized him and hauled him backwards.

"She is awake! That can only mean one thing. Malefax has returned!" he bellowed. A gasp sounded at the mention of the name.

"You dare to speak his name and grant him power?" Orus shrieked. The old man frowned, clearly confused.

"What are you saying? Is this not the Hand of Seracco? You are duty bound to come to the defense of Jedi Master Kriegor when called. She has awoken and you must rally to her! Malefax has-" he began again but was cut off by a swift jab to the ribs by one of the guards.

"Heresy! You speak of things which you should not know," Elder Wonb called from the head table. There was a murmur of agreement from the crowd. Gedo realized her heart was pounding, this was by far the most exciting meeting she had been to in years. 

"I am the Caretaker. I have been on Rishi for 60 years now, serving the Order like my father before me-" he said but was interrupted by another jab from the guards.

"Rishi? What are you talking about. You're not making any sense," Orus said. "You are likely nothing more than an former member of the Order captive in your own fantasy. If the Enemy had truly returned do you not think the Council of Elders would have already known. We have systems and countermeasures in place to monitor these things". The Caretaker seemed confused. He shook his head and looked around at the others in the crowd.

"You must listen to me. My family was tasked with the charge of being Caretakers of the tomb of Master Kriegor. My name is Remus Aessian and my ancestor was the companion of-" he began again. 

"Silence," Elder Orus bellowed and the guards took that as a cue to hammer another fist into the old man's ribs. Orus stood silently for a moment, his fists clenched and his eyes cold. He stared at Remus with a cool anger.

"You desecrate - all that we hold sacred," he spat. "You will be punished for this," he finished and looked to the guards.

"Lock him away until we can figure out what else he knows and who he has spoken to," he said and the guards complied. They hauled Remus backwards who surprisingly didn't struggle. He let them pull him back limply towards the door and Geda saw a look of complete and utter defeat on his face, as if his entire world had just come crashing down. After he had been removed from the room an uncomfortable murmur wavered through the room. Orus surveyed the crowd and then motioned for them to be quiet.

"Ignore that prattling fool and take heed in the fact that the Council has considerable measures in place to protect ourselves and fulfill our mandate. These measures most certainly do not include the employment of heretical and insane men on distant worlds," he scoffed. His retort was followed by a chorus of laughter and then he continued on. 

Geda stopped listening and kept looking back to the door where the old man had been taken. What was he talking about? Rishi? Who was Master Kriegor? None of this made sense but what bothered her is that he had known the name of the Enemy. Geda studied people for a living, it was part of her job as a lawyer for the Imperial Courts. She had seen her fair share of liars and cutthroats try to bumble their way through testimonies. She could tell almost immediately when they were lying, she just knew. This man wasn't lying. She felt the truth in his words, his desperation, his frantic behaviour. She looked behind her and noticed that Tusta had a similar expression of intrigue on his face. He looked at her and flashed her another knowing smile.

"Shall we take a walk? I'd love to meet our guest," he mumbled. She nodded and they began to work their way through the crowd towards the door. 

Across the room another figure keyed on his datapad and hammered in a quick message:

"CARETAKER HAS REACHED THE ORDER. ALERT THE MASTER. KRIEGOR HAS AWOKEN."