[Episode IV – Cat. A][K9 - Coruscant - AI] Echoes of the Separatist State

Echoes of the Separatist State

500 Republica – Office of Moff Cerato

Moff Cerato’s office radiated wealth—glittering reflective floors, rare art pieces and relics of wars long past, and a panoramic view of the Coruscant skyline. The sun was setting on a fractured horizon, smoke plumes rising between the towers from nearby districts.

At the center of the room, Moff Cerato stood behind his desk before four Outer Rim senators, each one of them shaken by the sounds of battle echoing up through the building.

Moff Cerato gestured toward the window as another explosion bloomed in the distance. “Behold the Core’s finest hour. The Black Sun tears through Coruscant itself—through their capital—while the Senate dithers over procedure and committee votes.”

Senator Rhyssa Voréll, a poised and unnervingly calm Falleen, stood at Moff Cerato’s side. Her voice smooth but ringing with conviction. “And if the New Republic cannot stop criminals in their own streets, how can they hope to defend the Outer Rim? Pirate fleets ravage entire sectors. Slavers take our young. The Night Prince controls more hyperlanes than the New Republic Navy. Yet still—still—they insist the Rim is ‘secure.’”

The Pantoran senator Sirai Rinoida folded her arms, the blue of her skin pale under the flickering lights. “Pantora’s trade routes are under constant attack. Half our freighters must hire private escorts because the New Republic won’t deploy a single patrol group to the sector.”

The Rodian senator Veela Soryn clicked in agitation. “Rodia has pleaded for support for years. Pirates strike with impunity. The New Republic sends us speeches instead of starships.”

The Aqualish senator, Phelden Ruskorr growled, tusks grinding. “Our loyalty means nothing to them. The Outer Rim bleeds, and the New Republic tells us to endure.”

Senator Voréll activated the holotable. A glowing blue map of the Outer Rim spread across the air—systems blinking red where pirate and criminal activity had surged. “This is our moment. The New Republic’s failure is laid bare for all the galaxy to see. While they lose their own capital to criminals, we will seize our future. The Outer Rim Union of Independent Systems will bring order where they have abandoned responsibility.”

Before the diplomats could respond, Cerato’s secure console emitted a sharp, urgent tone.

The Moff checked it—then straightens abruptly. “The New Republic has breached level 78. Their forces are fighting up the tower—they’ll reach this floor soon.”

The building trembled violently, dust drifting from the ceiling panels.

Cerato turned to Voréll. “We leave now. The Union cannot afford for either of us to be captured.”

Senator Rinoida's eyes widened. “And what of us!?”

Cerato gave her a thin smile. “You were never here for anything more than a diplomatic visit. Cooperate, and the New Republic will release you unharmed.” He pauses a few seconds. “If I am caught, however, this entire movement dies.”

Senator Voréll touched her Falleen bodyguard’s arm. “You stay. Protect them. And if the New Republic demands a culprit… you will give them one.”

The bodyguard bowed his head. It was the bow of a man who had already accepted his fate.

Cerato and Voréll vanished into a private escape corridor. The remaining senators waited as blasterfire drew closer—floor by floor.

Smoke pools against the ceiling like storm clouds. The emergency lights flickered, casting long, broken shadows that danced with every explosion from below. The senators huddled together, guided only by the steady presence of the Falleen bodyguard standing protectively before them.

The building shook again, and then—

The office doors blew open with a deafening crack.

Two New Republic Security officers charged in, rifles up. “New Republic Security! Drop your weapons! Senators—identify yourselves!”

The senators complied immediately, shouting over one another. The bodyguard stepped forward calmly, hands raised.

The Rodian senator grabbed his arm. “You don’t need to do this—” He silenced her with a small, final shake of the head.

The sergeant studied him for a moment, then nodded to the other trooper to bind his wrists. “Senators, come with us. We have an evac route cleared through the north corridor. Black Sun reinforcements are closing in—move, now!”

As they hurried out, the Pantoran looked back at the bodyguard.
He stood quiet and proud beside the troopers, accepting capture—perhaps imprisonment, perhaps worse—to ensure the Outer Rim Union’s secrecy.

Behind them, the tower shook once more as Black Sun detonated another barricade.

And every senator who fled the smoke-filled corridor understood the same, stark truth:

If this could happen in the heart of the New Republic, then the Outer Rim had never stood a chance.

As they ran, Senator Sirai Rinoida felt a cold weight settle in her chest—a shame she did not voice, but could not escape. Her father, a man who had fought tirelessly to secure Pantora’s place in the Republic, would have turned in his grave if he had known that his daughter now moved against the very government he had bled for.

But in that moment—surrounded by fire, fear, and the collapse of everything the New Republic claimed to protect—she wondered, with a quiet and terrible clarity, if he had been wrong.

///

Another office interior 😉
I spent a little longer with this entry combing over inspiration sources like Chancellor Palpatine's office and the interior of Senator Sejan's Yacht (from JEDI Survivor), trying to get some clever details in. See additional photos below, and let me hear what you think.