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Sevin Pane steadied his tattered hood against the wind and peered into the lava stream. As always there was no reflection. An Incom T-47 airspeeder roared overhead. "Dank imports," muttered the Sullustan under his breath.
Unfortunately, he had been chosen. An elder Sullustan, he had seen two galactic eras of war. Now, his people were asking him to represent them in the senate on Chandrila as the next era began.
Garbed in a worn brown cloak, the old Sullustan strolled along the bridge toward the meeting place—the home of his old friend Fiev Fel, an executive of the SoroSuub company. The planet’s immense industrial corporation had existed longer than anyone remembered and had been on nearly every possible side of the last two galactic conflicts. Pane’s job was to ask Fel whether the manufacturing giant could tangibly support the people’s growing interest in arming the Freedom Fighters that had begun to crop up on Sullust and around the galaxy. If he were to fail, he had agreed to step down from his position as delegate. He was almost hoping for that scenario. In essence, today was the true Election Day.
Sevin had a feeling his friend would have said yes to “Sevin” but wasn’t sure how he would react to “Senator Pane.” The two had run guns together during the Clone Wars, and both had been less than fond of the politicians of eras past.
Regardless, Sevin believed in his current cause. The growing local support of the Freedom Fighters was not without reason. The people of Sullust had begun to sprout renewed faith in the Force as the Galactic Civil War ended. Sevin himself had started to feel it. The corruption of the past age was beginning to crumble in the light, but it wasn’t going to go away quietly. Admittedly he was new to the ancient faith despite his old age, and he was unsure what this “Force" had in mind for him in his dwindling years. "The Force will be with me, sometimes," he muttered to himself as he reached the residence, a small gray classical homestead, and entered.
“Senator Pane.” The hospitality droid’s voice was friendly. “At the order of Premier Fel of the SoroSuub, you are under arrest.”
This topic was modified 3 years ago by
RocketBoy
Posted : 24/02/2022 8:37 pm