Men just love their power take that away and someone always winds up paying.

Andromeda Delion Age: 64 Homeworld: Bastion Rank: Vice Minister of Ubitorate Faction: Imperium Species: Human Gender: Female Height: 1.65 meters (or 5'5'') Weight: 55 kg or about 120 pounds Hair: Blonde Eyes: Blue Skin: White General Description: Short and lithe though much slower in her old age (the spirit is still willing.) Once a very attractive woman, but now her beauty has faded somewhat. Light blonde hair and cool blue eyes. Generally angular features. Given to presenting herself in a warm fashion. Comes across as almost matronly, but can flip in an instant to cool and calculating. Utterly inscrutable, even (or perhaps especially) to those who know her best. Strength: 4/10 Average for a woman of her age and lifestyle (light exercise, sedentary job.) Unimpressive by most other standards. Dexterity: 4/10 Average for a woman of her age and lifestyle (light exercise, sedentary job.) Unimpressive by most other standards. Constitution: 4/10 Average for a woman of her age and lifestyle (light exercise, sedentary job.) Unimpressive by most other standards. Intelligence: 8/10 A highly educated lawyer and economist with years of analytic experience at the highest level for the Ubiqtorate. She never forgets a face and rarely a pertinent fact and her ability to synthesize information and come up with plans is impressive on a galactic scale, with few others comparing. Wisdom: 10/10 Ruthless and cunning. She's survived (and risen) in the intelligence community by pairing an unstinting ruthless, with incredible intuition, and fiendish cunning. She also possesses a keen understanding of people, knowing what makes them tick good, bad and everything in between. Despite being ruthless,

loathes unnecessary cruelty. Charisma: 8/10 Command enormous respect from her people through cunning and force of will. At one time ran (successfully) for public office but realized that my best work is done in the shadows. Strengths Incredibly willful and ambitious. Willing to make any play to meet her objectives. Not easily intimidated. Patient. Prudent. Weaknesses A tendency to treat people in the abstract. Arrogance. Paranoid. Skills Highly educated in the fields of law and economics at the best institutions in the Imperium. Decades of experience as a spymaster for the Ubiqtorate at the highest levels. Widely considered one of the, if not the most effective, spymasters in the Imperium. Highly advanced strategic skills. Polyglot. Basic Imperium training in most other areas. Has a particular affinity for philosophy, the arts, and psychiatry, believing that the key to defeating one's enemy is empathy and understanding... and then ruthlessly exploiting that knowledge to crush one's enemy. BA Economics Imperial University MA Economics Imperial University PhD Economics Imperial University JD Bastion College of Law Gear: Imperial uniform. Modded, state of the art datapad. No weapons: If I'm ever directly in a firefight where the outcome is not foreordained, I've already lost. Personality: There were always a few competing impulses in Andromeda's psyche as she grew up that shaped her into the woman she is. The first is an abiding idealism that posits that society fails when it does not take care of its weakest. Her mother, a teacher, and her father, an incorruptible judge and tireless advocate for the poorer members of Bastion taught her that and led by example, choosing to live in a poor neighborhood, despite their middle-class incomes. Her father's brand of idealism, though was the one that was most imprinted onto young Andromeda: unrelenting, compromising. He prosecuted the powerful fearlessly and gave clemency to those victimized by the system, but was in the end destroyed by the callousness of the system itself. This led to the second impulse: one that in the beginning served the first. Power and control. Andromeda craved it and believed that only a powerful state could provide power and control sufficient to make a fair society. Her impression of people was always mixed: she pitied and resented them for

her flaws and came to believe that whilst they could be improved, force would have to be used. Politically, this led to a belief that the decentralized state of the galaxy put everyone at risk. Not only because of the danger of an external threat (the Vong were surely not the only other highly advanced species out there in the inky blackness of space. She believes in the idea of a Manifest Destiny for the galaxy (encompassing all races equitably, so long as they join in the endeavor) fanatically and has already sacrificed many of her friends and family (in sundry ways) to meet that goal. She is not deterred or intimidated by any obstacle. Biography: Born in the latter half of the 10th Century ABY, Andromeda lived in the Ionko districts of Bastion with a loving father and mother, a judge and teacher respectively, who wished to teach their daughter (and remind themselves) how the other half lived. To something of a surprise (they were well-meaning but frankly patronizing, as Andromeda would wryly note in her latter years), they liked the community and settled themselves into the rhythms of Ionko: the joyous births and weddings, the delicious cooking of the elderly matrons who were the mothers of all the denizens of the community, the grief of the funerals, and yes, the anger and pain of the crimes that ripped apart families. Still, her childhood was basically without trauma and she developed into a brilliant young woman with bright prospects. So bright in fact, that she was granted admission into the best schools in the galaxy. She chose to remain close to home and to go (incidentally) to the best institutions in Imperium space, where should would study economics, reasoning that it was the most holistic way of understanding how people really lived. At this stage, Andromeda hadn't pondered much what it was she wanted to do with her life, and as she acquired her degrees in economics, the notion of a cloistered life in the technical field seemed stifling. Tragedy would be the catalyst for her career, as her father, a man whose unyielding stances of principle (his enemies derisively referred to them as grandstanding) who had made no shortage of enemies, agreed to try a local ward boss for racketeering after having a case brought to him by a fiery young DA (who would die in an 'accidental car explosion' some short time afterward), corruption and conspiracy. The ward boss' influence was enormous and he had friends in high places, who not only conspired to torpedo the case, but brought in evidence of judicial misconduct: including bribery and evidence tempering. To the scrupulous Delion patriarch, this was too much to accept and the man committed suicide, leaving the family name in disgrace. Determination, duty and rage compelled Andromeda to do one thing: go to law school. She did, excelled and graduated in short order to become one of the youngest District Attorneys in the history of the Imperium, succeeding (and proving more trouble, in time, to the unsavory elements there) the young man who had died in a car bombing. Her time in law school and her close examination of the legal system made her more cynical, and her father's death embittered her, and her office became willing to use... unorthodox methods. Evidence and witness tampering, jury nullification, bribery, yes she became all her father hated and more. But for one reason. To punish the guilty and protect the innocent. Her enemies tried to have her assassinated constantly, but she was always too shrewd. Politically she was untouchable given her popularity in the district (it was the one office she ran for and won with margins to spare.) Still, a sense of futility crept over Andromeda and she pondered suicide herself, knowing that at the end of the day, even if she were able to bring all her father's murderers (it was only technically a suicide) to justice

(whatever that meant now), there were still sundry injustices being committed all over the galaxy. And she knew that political instability, poverty, and other silent endemic monsters loomed over innocents all around her. Opportunity knocked on her door in the form of Orion Rex, a high-ranking young spymaster in the Ubiqtorate, which had been closely watching her crusade. Her war on organized crime in Ionko had been run much like an intelligence war, with covert operations, deception, interrogations, and all other manners of black ops work. The Ubiqtorate was definitely interested and there was so much good she could do from the dark. It took some convincing, but Andromeda joined Orion at the Ubiqtorate and together the two rose to the highest levels of policy-making there, her as his faithful subordinate and political squire, staving off political and bureaucratic rivals with a surgical precision. When the Sith appeared, Andromeda... survived. No. She thrived. She took the opportunity to prove her loyalty to the Sith, conduct and shape a great deal of the purge, and cripple any political opposition both within and without the intelligence community. How she did this is a matter of some... distaste. But she had no choice. Her political beliefs venerated something above the Emperor and the Imperium and she believed that the Sith could be both tamed (in a sense) and be used in a constructive sense. Andromeda also believed that history was cyclical and that the Sith were not to rule forever, but if the current political order could be shattered and the foundations of a true galactic state laid (the Wild Regions tamed, the Unknown fully charted and settled), the basis of her Manifest Destiny dream would be laid. Besides, there were threats out there. She knew that. And to meet them, unwavering will, a razor-sharp cunning, and a stomach for unbelievable sacrifices would have to be mustered. And she was just the one to do it. Family Leandros Dort (First husband, father of her children; divorced.) Augustus Delion (Eldest son; deceased) Mina Delion (Eldest daughter; alive) Livia Delion (Daughter; alive) Huxtaw Delion (Son; alive) Adonis Delion (Youngest son; KIA Imperial Service) It's come to this at last, old friend Orion Rex, Second-in-Command of the Imperial Ubiqtorate, stared at the stark black duracrete wall blankly. Not glumly; he was keeping his spirits up. Chipper in their dirty business, as he always was. But still... it was considerably harder when you were the prisoner yourself. He had never trucked much with Force philosophy, even if he respected and recognized the power of the Imperial Knights and their our-- he reminded himself, Emperor, but perhaps there was something to the notion that what one did redounded back. He didn't take it back. Any of it. Do it all over again? Hell yes. The Imperium had enemy and people like him had to be monsters. The bogeymen in the dark who did what the necessary warriors in the light could not.

He gingerly rubbed his wrists, doing his best to forget the wracking pain all over. The Sith were the most subtle of interrogators, but they could inflict pain with considerable aplomb. In the cell next to him, he could see through the bars his best friend and right-hand woman. How you holding up, Andy? Not too bad. I had a tougher go of it with childbirth. Both my own and my daughter's. That's right. How are the grandkids? I'm still waiting for the part where they're better than kids were. That bad, huh? Hyperactive and nosy. Gotta love them. They're-- --outta here. Don't know where, but our contingencies for both our families-- are in place. Good. Good. Andromeda Delion nodded and glanced around her cell again. Orion smiled despite himself. He'd always been something of an old-fashioned gentleman when it came to gender politics, but had to admit that Andy was tougher than he had ever been. And smarter to. Doubtless she was already plotting how to get out of here and restore the Imperial Dynasty. Before summarily ejecting the Sith himself. He barely remembered this prison (the Imperium had so many facilities around the galaxy) but Andy recognized it. Said she remembered the blueprints. So that would be the first thing. She was already planning a way out of here. First, they'd go commando on this place, of course. Never mind that he and Andy were desk jockeys who hadn't fired a blaster since Basic so many years ago. Or that they were both grandparents and would be opposed by vigorous young warriors. Successs was the only option and Andy always got her way. He almost allowed himself to half believe it. It had been weeks now, and while at first their interrogator, a Sith Sorcerer (his lip curled in disdain at the lack of professionalism of being interrogated by a Sorcerers, but beggars can't be choosers when it comes to the murderous cult wanting to get vital information to break an intelligence network, don't you know) with features seemingly hewn roughly from stone, thick facial hair and and an even thicker accent, seemed to enjoy their pain. They never cried out, but they couldn't stop their synapses from registering every prod, every gash, every raw wound. The sensual pleasure the large Zabrak seemed to take slowly turned to rage and exasperation as neither broke. PsyOps was part of the advanced training in the Ubiqtorate and with respect, there were none better than them. So that was the way things had gone. Some torture in the morning, meals. And then speaking by code about certain matters when they could confer. Of course, they would sometimes break code entirely just

to rub it in the faces of the Sith that they had no leverage. Their families had been spirited away. And now? They were just two old spymasters with nothing much left to lose and the stubbornness of dotage to keep them strong. Conferring in code again: When I was younger, we had a different etiquette about blind dates. Their old network had largely gone dark, but their old recruiters and trainers were busily setting up new networks again. And there was always the matter of Watchtower. It wasn't something that they talked about often, though both were members. Andy and he were always the get it done type. Call me an old fogey, but I remember. The parents of a young lady I was trying to woo-- A chortle. Don't laugh! I was quite the charmer back in the day. Not nearly so much as you think, Or. I was there, back in the day, remember? That you were. But her parents insisted that we only date in establishments where family members were the proprietors and thus could keep an eye on me. So I assume you spent a lot of time in kitschy family restaurants and the like. Hardly. The only business the family availed itself of was a cobbling concern. Ah. The forging of documents. The conversation went in that vein for a while. Andy had managed to sneak out information periodically to the outside, and the two had actually managed to guide (insofar as they could to the largely decentralized process) the building of a new intelligence network. It would take hard work, and sacrifice, and a great deal of time. But with that crucial infrastructure established, they could hit the Sith hard. Perhaps even talk to their counterparts in the Alliance about some sort of alliance and-Orion broke off from his train of thought as he noticed that a deep sadness seemed to come over Andy. For only a moment, of course. She composed herself and then seemed to take on resolve. She broke off their conversation, stood up and said slowly. I'm ready. He frowned and then stood up. Andy... what are you talking about? They can't have broken you! He insisted, I mean, for goodness' sake, I'm a jellyfish compared to you and I'm still standing. Come on. I know you have more fire in the belly than that. She didn't respond, only stared at him levelly, before shaking her head, reaching into her pocket (she was still wearing the business suit that was the usual attire at the Ubiqtorate) and drew out... a key card.

Hope briefly rose in his heart. But a deeper part of him, a more cynical part, began to realize what was going on. Andromeda opened the cell and... there was nothing. No alarm. She waited before their Zabrak sorcerer interrogator, flanked by several Sith warriors in inscrutable metal masks flanking him. He was... grinning. Excellent work, madam, he said unctuously, You take to deception almost as naturally as we do. More naturally, she replied without missing a beat, We don't have the Force or any sort of ethos to rely on. No... nothing more than our wits. She paused, turned around and walked over to Orion's cell. Or rather hobbled. He was still staring, only now vaguely aware that he must have looked aghast. We had to make it look real, Or, Andromeda said at last, looking almost vaguely sheepish, It was, as far as the ops I've run, far more operatical than I wanted it to be, but effective nonetheless. Besides, we were trained to resist physical methods of interrogation, and no pain no gain, right? Orion managed to train his face back into a neutral expression, How? Why? The why of it is rather simple. What we are doing. What we have done, Orion, was always far bigger than the Emperor or any of the obsolete political arrangements we pledged our allegiance to. I calculated that the best means of continuing our very necessary work was to pledge my allegiance to the Sith. I would have brokered the same for you, but when they invaded our secret complex-- --That you gave up no doubt-- --Part of the price of doing business. And when I saw your face and that ridiculous heroic expression of yours, with the steely eyes and the set jaws, I knew I wouldn't be able to flip you. So you've been working me for information this whole time? I invested a great deal in transitioning to my employers... Andromeda looked off to the side, When I went to them, it was a great gamble, you know, she began to put on some nondescript black gloves she was handed, I had to give up a great deal before I got them to trust me. Insofar as Sith do, she added with a sidelong glance to the sorcerer, who was now over on his workdesk cleaning and storing his tools of the trade. What did you have to give up? Orion stared at her. Hard. There was a moment of silence. A flash of a mother's pain. But more resolve. My eldest. Gus? By the Force-- --The Force certainly isn't with us, Or. And I did what was necessary.

Your own son. My own politically ambitious son. Who held office. And who would get the rest of my children killed if I didn't make the trade. Sometimes triage is very painful. You've gone insane. No. I'm simply telling you this to remind you my resolve. Orion looked horrified, And my family. She frowned, but gave him a meaningful look, They are gone. He sighed and his head bowed down, You've at least done that much. Honor amongst thieves. Silence. So why are you telling me all this? Because I've finished plying you for information. Because the end is over. I won't promise clemency, as that would be a hollow promise. But I can promise a quick and dignified end. All you have to tell me is that I'm right. That there's nothing more to be gleaned from you. Nothing more than the usual, Orion sneered, Basic agent training. Never share everything. Of course. I calculated for that. You... calculated? You forgot my means of communicating outside. Hope, Or. It is that quintessential delusion that clouds the thinking of even very smart people. Like you. I've been coordinating the purge. It was part of how I paid off the Sith. I estimate that ninety percent of the conventional intelligence infrastructure has been neutralized. And Watchtower has essentially been broken. Orion chuckled wryly, Effective. I'll give you that. As always. For what it's worth, I take no satisfaction in any of this, Orion. Neither do I. For what it's worth, he echoed mockingly. Always the wit, Andromeda smiled despite herself and held up the blaster to her friend's head. And you were always tough, Andy. Good luck kiddo, he snarled, You're gonna-- Bang.

One shot. Center of the forehead. Plasma ripped through the cranium and melted the brain. Instant painless death. Andromeda calmly holstered the pistol. Aptly enough an officer's pistol. Her father's. From a war he had served in. That was apt enough. And so was her role as executioner. She owed Orion that much. More really. But moral debts couldn't hold much sway in wartime. See you on the other side, Or, she said softly, before turning to her escort, We're almost done here, gentlemen. Except for one thing. I am a professional. And one thing I don't expect... she eyed the hulking Sith Sorcerer, before nodding at the warriors, Is loose ends. The warriors nodded and set upon the hapless Sith Sorcerer, hacking and slashing. The poor Zabrak couldn't even light his saber, which he had stored moments ago in an onyx-black satchel, along with the rest of his trades. There was a moment of silence. The Sith warriors faced her. One removed his mask. A young man not much older than her youngest. Sallow skin and red eyes. Sad. But effective. What now, milady? The young man asked in a strange sort of sneering respect. Do with his body what you will, she pointed to the Sith Sorcerer. And the old man? She paused, buttoning an old Imperial overcoat. Will have to get the right crest sewed on that. It wouldn't do to make a political faux pas like continuing to wear the old Imperial insiginia. Take his body to the war service. Intern him with honors. He died a hero. Do him no dishonor. I owe him that much. And besides... he's a hero.