A Stone's Throw

[Progflaw99]

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[ Theme ]​

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Outer Rim | Thanium sector | Galidraan​

Calavar | The Capital​

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There was a hop in his step as he exited his hotel room, the native Centaran closing the door behind himself as he slipped the access card into his pocket. Over his ears a wide banded headset, musical tunes beating loud despite the early hour. A knowing smile grew at the corner of his lips as he thought about the previous evening. *Now that was how foreign dignitaries were meant to party.* Emerson almost felt bad for the cleaning staff - in fairness however, they probably had droids that did that sort of work. He shrugged off the thought as his footsteps carried him down the carpeted hallway. Already the cleaning staff appeared to be making the rounds, a large cart occupied a portion of the hall, the sound of a loud vacuum escaping the partially opened door. The tray included typical findings of hotel staff, but more importantly the mints. Mischievously Emerson looked first over his shoulder and then peeked into the room. Seeing no one, he swiped a handful of mints into his large overcoat's pocket, a grin spreading across his features. Today was going to be a good day.

Almost dancing along with the music, the younger Cardiff made his way towards the lifts that would see him down to the main floor. He had things to do and people to see. Unwrapping one of the mints and popping it into his mouth, he crinkled the wrapper, casually tossing it into the rubbish bin just outside the lift. Only a couple minutes later he'd come out on the main floor. The lobby was empty this time of day, only a straggler here or there but as Emerson began heading for the door, the uniformed employee at the entrance knew what to do. By the time the diplomat reached the bottom steps, a small speeder had been brought out from storage, the valet gesturing towards the vehicle. Without a word, Emerson procured a small credit chit, leaving it in the valet's hand as he ducked into the speeder. What he wouldn't have given to pilot, but he knew that would never be allowed, he already got away with quite a lot. Shifting in his seat, the music stopped abruptly as he paused it, raising his voice towards the driver's compartment.

"I've got a meeting at the Capitol building. Office of Thaddeus Vitalis. Make it quick." a brief pause before the driver responded, holographic image of an older man appearing briefly. "As you wish sir." What happened next surprised Emerson, the rapid acceleration of the speeder catching him off guard. With a deep breath, he turned up the tunes again, content to look out the window as they made their way from his lodging towards the Capitol building.

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[member="Thaddeus Vitalis"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mjJmNjFQPWA​

The capital's streets bustled with activity. In the days since the departure of Governor Iain Delterra, things had gotten very much back to business as usual. The increased military presence in the city remained, but had been dialed back to in and around the military installations, and with Delterra safely off-world and without the ability to tell his story to the people of Galidraan, it seemed that, by and large, the official truth would remain unsullied by anything so pedestrian as the truth. Of course, there would always be exceptions, as some people seemed curiously well-informed about events to which they ought not be privy, but with the planetary defense forces in Vitalis' hands, it seemed that these all-seeing, all-knowing individuals had chosen, for the moment, to allow their knowledge to remain out of sight of the general public.

It was good to be king -- while it lasted.

But Thaddeus didn't feel right about staying in the Blue Palace. It was comfortable, luxurious, and stately, but it was a royal residence and he was, despite the best intentions and what he felt was a moral duty to the people, a usurper. Instead, he had directed the functions of the Governor's office to move to a location in central Calavar. A former royal residence, the River Palace had for centuries served as a meeting place for the parliament, but since parliament had been dissolved over a decade ago and not called back, it had been mainly empty. The Lords' Chambers had been opened to provide a place for the nobles, like [member="Beatrix Chaucer"], [member="Leah Winsclav"], and representatives from the other powerful noble families, to congregate and plan, and the place had plenty of office and conference space, as well as secure and encrypted communications services.

"Be sure to provide the latest readiness figures to the Noble Council," Thaddeus told his aide. They were in the old Speaker's office, on the opposite side of the building from the Lords' Chambers. "They should have the most recent information available, otherwise what's the point? What's next?"

"Mr. Cardiff, sir. In the Governor's Anteroom."

Thaddeus made a face. "Move it to this end of the building. I don't want every visitor parading in front of our noble friends. Not until we know where everyone stands." He straightened his uniform jacket. "We'll meet in the old library. Have them take the dustcloths off. I'm sure Mr. Cardiff will understand. if there's some disarray."

He was pleasantly surprised when, a few moments later, he walked into the library to find that the dustcloths were removed and a fire had been lit in the fireplace. The books were all gone, and the furniture was sparse -- a pair of chesterfield sofas facing one another across a small coffee table, a side table near the window with hastily laid-out refreshments in the form of coffee, tea, a few pastries, and a pitcher of ice water. The looked empty, but not dusty or shabby. He had no idea where they had found a janitorial team at such short notice, but whoever it was was doing a fantastic job. Thad poured himself a glass of ice water from the pitcher and walked over to the window, pushing the dark green curtain aside to look out. Boats were making their way along the river, as if nothing had happened.

 

[Progflaw99]

It had only taken a few short minutes by speeder car to reach the River Palace, certainly a far shorter ride than it would have taken to reach Blue Palace, the official residence of the planetary governor. It was almost a shame. After reading about the history of Galidraan, or a sizeable portion of it, he had been almost curious as to how the nobility of the planet lived. Even so, as they'd pulled up to the ornate architecture of the ad hoc government headquarters, he was struck dumb. In many ways, it reminded him of Centares, though admittedly dated. Avalonia, deep within the borders of the First Order was more akin to the architecture found here than Centares. Part of him wondered if it had to do with the Order's Grand Moff, he had it on good authority the woman was Galidraani - seeing it for himself he was obliged to agree.

Removing the headset from his ears and running a quick hand through his hair, his eyes gazed upward towards the main entry of the building. According to the briefing he'd received prior to travel, the planet had recently undergone a quiet coup of sorts, even Emerson wasn't exactly sure of the details. Atop that, there seemed to be a rising Sith presence in the region, the Sith Empire had expanded rapidly in the Galactic Northeastern sectors, spreading almost like a plague across the stars. It was with bated breath that Emerson watched world after world fall to the influence of their empire, either by coercion or by the sword - so had the world of Thyferra fallen. The ire of the Sith Lords had been drawn. *And quartered.* thought Emerson, darkly. What world would become the target of their fascination next? He could only hope that Centares remained obscure enough to avoid the jaws of the beast. Galidraan however seemed likely unable to escape that fate. It was that inevitability which had sparked the sudden extension made by the Trade Council. Not far off the Perlemian Trade Route and the Mara Corridor, Galidraan had a bounding history, colorful tales splotching the canvas of time - not only this, but it was of strategic importance, at least to the lesser known Trade Council agencies. It was certainly a risk, and there was no telling if the government was even sympathetic to the Sith Empire, but there was only one way to be sure.

It was thus that Emerson found himself ascending the weathered steps, eyes set on the ornate double doors before him. Escorted by two guards who'd seen to it that he wasn't armed, he was lead inside, towards a small waiting room. After only a handful of minutes there, another came to retrieve him. A smart looking lass by the name of Eveline if her name tag was to be believed. *Tawny little thing.* thought Emerson. *At least they're not on the opposite side of the spectrum.* Memories of Emerson's first meeting with a Hutt was enough to turn his thought from that memory. He wasn't openly xenophobic, but he found it particularly difficult to suffer a handful of specific alien races. As any good politician however, he'd learned to hide his thoughts behind a nigh impenetrable veneer. Leather soled shoes traced across the carpet softly as they traveled to another wing of the building, this one much older - almost appearing as if unused. Even so, it was ornate, opulent even - at least by most standards. It wasn't long before they'd reached the end of a long corridor, a wide frame holding yet another ornate door, the gold trimmed handle engraved with some manner of beast. "The Chairman will see you now, Ambassador Cardiff." The young woman's singsong voice pierced the silence. An outstretched arm motioned for the Ambassador to proceed. "Thank you kindly sweetheart." Emerson bowed his head. As his hand grasped the handle, he took a breath and stepped into the room. From behind him, the woman's voice spoke once more. "Ambassador Cardiff to see you Mr. Chairman."

[member="Thaddeus Vitalis"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Thad looked away from his brooding at the window to see [member="Emerson Cardiff"] and Eveline in the doorway. "Thank you, Eveline," he said as he tucked the datapad he had been holding absently into his coat pocket. He crossed the room towards the door, extending a firm handshake to the ambassador. "Ambassador Cardiff, pleased to meet you. Come in, please." He released the man's hand and took hold of the door handle. "That's all for now, Eveline. Would you see if Lieutenant Alderny could use you in my office?"

"Right away, Colonel."

Thad pulled the door shut behind him as he turned back to the young man from the Mara-Perlemian Trade Council. He didn't know enough about the fledgling government -- not as much as he should, anyway. They had sprung up in the wake of the Silver Jedi's retreat from the region, banding together as an economic and defensive block against the pirates and scoundrels that took advantage of any such change. Thaddeus admired the civic-mindedness and egalitarianism as much as any silver-spoon-sucking aristocrat could.

"We've been hearing good things about our neighbors in the Mara-Perlemian, although I must say I was surprised to hear that you were interested in a sit-down with us given the galactic-political situation." Vitalis gestured grandly to the sideboard stocked with goodies. "Can I offer you refreshment?" When all had been settled, Thaddeus took a seat on one of the chesterfields, his arm draped along the armrest. He looked confident, as though he belonged, but not so comfortable as to slouch as he crossed his legs, and expected [member="Emerson Cardiff"] to take the opposite sofa.

"So, Mr. Cardiff, how can Galidraan be of assistance?"

 

[Progflaw99]

"Galactic-political situation?" he replied, eyebrow raising in feigned ignorance. "We can't all let appearances dictate our actions. I will say despite the rumors however, things seem to be shaping up nicely here. We'd heard there'd been some changes in leadership recently?" It was a statement disguised as a question. If nothing else, the Trade Council's intelligence community was a deeply rooted one, one that had fingers all along the trade lanes and major hyperspace routes. Sure, you got a lot of spacer talk and unfounded rumors, but every now and then you'd find a gem of indisputable intel. They'd been lucky in that regard. As the man offered refreshment, Emerson smiled, his eyes landing on a particularly familiar hard candy, the wrapper indicating it was of the same brand he had on his own desk back home on Centares. "Looks like you've found my sweet tooth.." he said jokingly. "..Join me for a drink?" Nabbing a pair of glasses with his extended hand, he reached for a bottle of what appeared to be scotch, the label marking it as a 12 year blend. "Never could say no to a scotch, local or foreign." Propping the bottle against his chest, he moved his thumb, popping loose the corked lid before he paused. "I suppose I should ask, on the rocks, or straight?"

Emerson preferred his scotch straight, on occasion however he found it beneficial to drink it on the rocks. Couldn't be too careful, especially given the galactic-political situation. Fetching ice from the adjacent bucket, Emerson dropped a few cubes into his own glass, hesitating over the other. Technically, the Colonel hadn't even accepted the offer. It might have seemed odd for some, but Emerson had always been taught to act like you were at home, even when off world. It was a cheap ploy, one to set the tone for future conversation as well as to keep your hosts off balance. Continuing, Emerson poured the liquid expertly. Politics weren't the only thing he'd learned under the watchful eye of the elder Cardiff - no, he'd been taught quite the plethora of tricks and etiquette, despite his somewhat rebellious appearance. Replacing the bottle, Emerson shuffled over towards the unoccupied sofa, opposite Thaddeus. Settling in comfortably, the second glass found itself placed on the table for the other man. Lifting his own, Emerson spoke. "To friendly conversation." Waiting only a beat, Emerson tipped the glass to his lips, sipping from the glass. He swished it subtly before swallowing, the familiar alcohol burn sending a chill down his spine.

"What can Galidraan do for the Trade Council. Now that is a complex question indeed." Emerson twirled the glass momentarily before continuing. "Rumor has it there's a brimming market on the horizon, for Galidraan that is. It's no secret the Sith Empire's expansion towards your planet seems to go unblunted. Some might say there's something morally uncouth about the whole deal. War crimes, acts against humanity - I can't say one way or the other. The Jedi in our midst decry the Sith for everything they are, but I see things differently." Emerson took another long sip from the glass, cubes of ice rattling gently agains the glass tumbler. "I'm a businessman by trade, or rather by birth I suppose. What we want is for a relationship between our governments to form. Nothing unkind I assure you, but as a reasonable government, we could provide support that might help you retain some measure of control when the Sith inevitably find themselves at your doorstep. Nothing military in nature of course, but as I've said, I'm a businessman. Perhaps we could hedge the bet, ensure free trade flows between our worlds and Galidraan." There were obvious undertones to the Centaran's speech, but what exactly he had in mind remained carefully shrouded in obscurity. It was yet early in the conversation, plenty of time to peel away the layers and get to the heart of the matter.

[member="Thaddeus Vitalis"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"It's no secret the Sith Imperials have their eye on our section of space. Galidraan has the misfortune of being situated in an unstable region; we have thrived, thus far, by staying under the radar, so to speak." It was odd that Galidraan was coming full circle. Years ago it had been a loyal member of the Sith Empire, its aristocratic ways melding nicely with that of a galactic imperial state. In those days many Galidraani had come of age certain that the reign of the Sith Empire would last forever, not least among them Natasi Fortan, who had served that Sith Empire, then the One Sith, then defected to help found the First Order -- itself, in many ways, an offshoot of Galidraani notions of restraint, tradition, and service -- at least in the First Order's early, expansionary days. It had fallen under the power of the Silver Jedi who, despite purporting not to govern, still held sway over Galidraan and hundreds of other systems.

Their irresponsibility and failure to thrive had painted backs on all the systems they governed when the First Order and Galactic Empire had come calling.

And here they were, once again looking at an impending Sith Imperial rule. The more things changed -- well, everyone knew the cliché. He cleared his throat and inclined his head towards [member="Emerson Cardiff"]. "You are no doubt aware that the Sith Empire is heading in our direction. They are not the kind to skip over systems or leave business unfinished." This last bit was, he thought, perhaps not true - although he could now see the merit in hanging back while the Galactic Empire and First Order hammered the Silver Jedi. It was harder to govern a people peacefully when you precede the act with a full-scale bombing. "I've read the briefings about the MPTC -- scrappy, planetary-based defense and economic pact -- with some Jedi thrown into the mix. I wouldn't want to be a Jedi on Galidraan when the Sith Imperials show up."

The truth was, Thad couldn't care less who governed Galidraan, provided that it was left to its devices. He hoped to leverage the Grand Moff's relationship with the Sith Emperor -- he had always understood it to be cordial -- and the First Order's hold over the Pacanth Reach, to try to prevail upon the Emperor's goodwill in finding a place of relative safety in the Sith Empire in the event that their entrance to the Empire would be made compulsory. Of course, he would have been just as happy for Galidraan to rule itself under the umbrella of the Mara-Perlemian Trade Council, but it was looking more and more remote a possibility. Ever the realist, Thad had had to prepare for every eventuality.

He hesitated when offered a scotch. Colonel Vitalis did not often drink; he preferred to keep sharp at all times, even resorting to a pharmaceutical solution when necessary to maintain his edge. But this was a moment of kindling a diplomatic relationship, and he did not wish to get off on the wrong foot by seeming stand-offish with the potential new friend to the Galidraani people. "Go on, then," he said amiably. "On the rocks, please." Glass in hand, he raised it to Cardiff. "To friendly conversation. We know no other kind on Galidraan." He took a sip of the liquid, suppressing a grimace as it burned down his throat.

"As to trade, there's always a market on Galidraan. Our people are -- more or less -- comfortable, with a disposable income. Galidraan has some manufacturing, but it's not extensive and the variety isn't what you'd call groundbreaking. As to the Sith -- I am hoping that when they come (and it is when, in my opinion), we will be able to negotiate some sort of separate peace with them. Something along the lines of the privilege that the Tion Hegemony enjoys in their Empire, and what the Pacanth Reach enjoys in the First Order. So, provided nobody makes trouble, I don't foresee a problem with an understanding regarding trade. Provided, of course, that the levies are paid. And there is the matter of a market for Galidraan's goods. We have minerals, gems, precious metals, foodstuffs, timber, textiles -- you name it and someone on Galidraan is willing to sell it to you. I assume you are willing to discuss both imports and exports, Mr. Cardiff."

 

[Progflaw99]

The Colonel's mention of Jedi on Galidraan brought an amused smirk to Emerson's face. *I most certainly would not* he thought silently in response. The younger Cardiff kept his eyes on the Galidraani, observing every motion, examining every word and the tone in which it was spoken. If there was one thing about Emerson it was that he was thorough. Levies, taxes, those things Emerson was familiar with - not by choice however. His education had been borne on his back but at his parent's whim. It had been their prodding that he'd been forced to attend secondary education, as well as a myriad of other independent classes. In a way he supposed he should thank them, they'd unwittingly given him the tools with which he'd see them unseated someday - but that was far too ahead to worry about in the moment. "Of course, in fact I've already brought a measure of our own data. Percentages, combined statistics on current import export trends, as well as what we'd like to see between our member worlds and Galidraan. Of course this is all hypothetical. I've taken the liberty of having our analysts whip up a few different equations." He paused, retrieving a datapad from his pocket.

"If you'll look here, you'll see what levies our member worlds are subject to, as well as our primary and secondary imports and exports. I trust you'd be able to provide a welcome variance in our present stock. Attached as well are a myriad of security concerns that would need to be addressed, but I've left that portion to the egg heads in the TCN - the Navy of course. Other than the specifics, which I'm sure you'll want time to go over, what might the Trade Council be able to offer you in return?" Emerson took another sip of the scotch before setting the glass gently down and releasing the datapad to the man across from him. Curiously he wondered what would happen should the world fall under the Empire's ever growing swathe of influence. It would be interesting to see what effect it would have on the Galidraani's proposal, or adjustments to their own.

[member="Thaddeus Vitalis"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Thad leaned forward and took the offered datapad, setting it on the arm of the Chesterfield for the moment as he considered [member="Emerson Cardiff"]'s question. He rested his ankle on his knee and cupped his scotch with one hand. "If -- I should say when -- the Sith Imperials come calling, I'm sure they'll have something to say about what we can and cannot use to defend our territory. But if we had defenses in place already -- weapons, vehicles, whatever -- I don't think they could find anything to complain about. I'm not sure if your space has any corporations that can sell arms, but I can tell you that the government of Galidraan is prepared to drop some serious credits."

He raised his eyebrows across the room at Emerson. "I imagine in addition to trade through your space and, for our part, favorable tariffs for Trade Council-affiliated imports to Galidraan, the Galidraani Chamber of Commerce would have my head if I didn't try to negotiate some sort of reciprocal arrangement for selling their wares. Perhaps we can set up a free trade zone in the city, in exchange for a similar arrangement in your space? We could set up a quicker customs line for MPTC-related traffic, for instance. There are other ways to lower costs on both sides, I'm sure, no?"

 

[Progflaw99]

The conversation went back and forth several times over the next hour. A little give, a little take, but ultimately what the two discovered is that they were dealing in things yet to take place. As everyone knows, one must not count the chickens before they hatched. Even so, several minor trade agreements were agreed upon. With the Sith Empire looming just around the corner it was only a matter of time - though if they handled Galidraan the way they seemed to rule their other worlds, free trade would largely be uninhibited. The details they could discuss later, once the region had settled. For now however, Emerson was content with having merely touched base with the world. Little though it may have been in the galactic scheme of things, Galidraan was a place of culture and of history. It would serve their purpose well.

"Well, Mr. Vitalis, I'm afraid our time here has come to an end. You'll have to make the trip out to Centares sometimes, I'll show you the sights." A cordial smile followed the extension of his hand. "Until next time."

Having shook hands and parted ways, Emerson made the journey back to Centares. The pieces had been put in motion, what would follow was merely a matter of patience. The policy makers on both sides would do their diligence, what was to transpire was only the beginning.

[member="Thaddeus Vitalis"]​