Public A New Order Rises - Diarchy Grand Declaration Ceremony

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 2 - BACKROOM POLITICS

---

CURRENT MISSION - Collect Some Interest
Immediate Goals -
1: Ensure that the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan gain a favorable deal (Optional)
2: See what these Diarchs are really about.

BLUFOR - Too soon to Say

OPFOR - Enemy Unknown

TARGETING ACTION(S) - OPEN FREQUENCY

---

It was just like the old song said - the times, they are a-changin', and so Trayze must change with them. But change often occurs in the most subtle and unforeseen ways.

Officially, Trayze was here on behalf of the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan, as they would be the most stable financial power on this side of the Outer Rim, and something told him that the "State of the Dark Empire" didn't really care for long-term investments.

Unofficially, Trayze was here to size up the Diarchy. All of his battles had given him perspective on his own mortality, and perhaps, due to being confined to one work desk or another, he had begun to grow existential - and so he decided to look into the more mystical paths of the Force. Was it heretical? Perhaps. Would it yield fruit? Hopefully. Would Darth Malum of House Marr approve of subtly guiding a naive faction dedicated to "order" under his thumb? We'll see.

But for now, Trayze waited, hobnobbing with the usual sorts of folks you see at these parties - while taking a note in the Force who was there. Were there... other Acolytes? Actual acolytes rather than people who remained in the position out of stubborn pride like a certain nameless Kiffar would do?

Well, this'll be interestin'.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Idolatry.

The place was rife with it.

As the Shadow moved through the wide halls of the Crucible of Order, it became all the more apparent. Black cloak dragging along the floor, the dark figure moved like a vision out of a dream. Once, this had been the center of an Empire greater than those that had followed it. Now, it was a hollow shell, a corpse picked apart by vulture and other vermin. This latest mockery, this Diarchy, had fit to send invitations across the wider galaxy, inviting their enemies into their very heart.

But whether it was arrogance or foolishness, the Shadow could not say.

From around a corner, emerged one of the Diarchy guardsmen on their routine patrol. They spotted the Shadow and came to a stop, surprise and then confusion dancing across their youthful features. "Hold, guests aren't allowed in this sector. You'll have to return to the reception area." Before they could take a single step, their entire body tensed and froze in place. Only the frantic movement of their eyes was permitted, but their body was now made slave to a darker cognition.

Against their will, the guard's arms moved against the tide of their own electrical impulses. Reaching for their service dagger, they unsheathed it, and carefully plunged the sharpened blade into the meat of their neck. Rending the weapon sideways, they carved a gaping cavern into their own esophagus. Blood spilled out like wine, staining the front of their uniform and pooling on the floor at their feet. Yet, as the light began to dim, they remained standing as they had been before this dark power seized them.

Approaching slowly, the Shadow extended a hand. From their robe's voluminous sleeve emerged a spindly, arthropodan creature. It skittered out and onto the guard's chest, climbing up and into the gaping wound. It would dig deeper until it found the guard's spinal column, chewing through the vertebrae until it found the spinal cord and latched onto it with its mandibles. The rest of the creature nestled between the bone and the soft meat, articulating its legs until they fit perfectly between each vertebrae.

With a wave of the Shadow's hand, the wound stitched itself closed. The blood drained from the uniform, fizzling away into a mist of steam before disappearing complete. So too did the blood that had spilled upon the floor evaporate. The guard, now freed from the dark power, slumped forward slightly before suddenly righting himself. His eyes, unfocused, stared at the Shadow before rolling around in the sockets, coming to stare straight ahead with a steely gaze. It then moved past the Shadow and continued on its way, as though the entire encounter never transpired.

So thus did the Shadow continue on its path as well.

Darkening all that it passed

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Objectives One & Two | Liin Terallo , OPEN

"Unexpected? How so Director?"

Judah knew this was a wider invitation to see the Diarchy, extended to some of the larger players in the universe. Perhaps it wasn't quite his 'scene' but he had wanted to see what this new government was all about. He found the first steps to be a positive one. Not every government threw open their doors and allowed those to come and party and ask questions.

"Good to hear business is smooth. No trouble with the various warlords and governments then for you. I can't say I've had any trouble myself. Focused right now on helping my sons and working with the Commonwealth in the Sith Order. They have some ambitious ideas, you should come and explore sometime. I have an island home you're welcome to use."

Judah could see the use of the biomolecules in the Commonwealth, it would just be a matter if Director Terallo was comfortable enough to take on such a venture.

"You look lovely this evening by the way."

 

[Liin Terallo]

Objective: 1&2

I did not respond to his first questions. Instead I had another sip of my wine. Afterall I was not expecting to see many familiar faces here at all. I do not visit the territories of the major governments. I have no business dealings with them for I am far too small for them to hold any interest in. I am also not a Force wizard like all of them are. Therein also gives them no interest. I cannot wield any of the powers that they possess and hold so dear.

"The Sith have a Commonwealth? And what does that entail? As you well know, New Cov is neutral and has no enemies. However it was a Sith Lord that attacked Ilic City in an attempted hostile takeover. So I am sure that you can understand my apprehension in stepping into their territory. Just as I would think twice before going into Dark Empire territory due to the embargo." That is not to say that the Dark Empire have not come to New Cov since then, for they have. In very small numbers. Allister McAuliffe is one of them. However he did so in a scientific capacity, instead of any official Dark Empire business. At least as far as I am aware.

To his compliment I dip my head in thanks. "Thank you, Mister Dashiell. To parden the pun, your suit suits you well." I do my best not to roll my own eyes at that horrid sentence that I had just uttered. So I quickly change the subject. "Do you think that it will be a long speech, or a short one?"

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Varis Oakertain]

The Games Begin​

Objective - Three // Food & Games
Tags: Open

At his Diarch's request Varis was to open the arena for food and games. Typically in sync with his good friend Rellik, he determined the time was now.

The theater itself was a large circular area where people could sit from any angle and watch the show below with staff that would come by periodically during the event and ensure the guests were not left wanting.

Invitations to suites were given out to all high end parties who were invited. These would be stationed between the first and second floor of normal theater seats. Fully garnished with food and drink with several monitors for watching the events unfold.

Those who wanted a break could go out of the doors to find a wrap around hallway that went along the arena where artifacts, trophies and other show items could be studied with plaques for those who were interested in Diarchy history.

Varis first went out to the bar area. The logistics had finally finished, the last item to arrive were the Lava extract from Taspir III for Relliks personal favorite - the Fiery Mustafarian. A beautiful bartender in red robes staged them behind the counter and began to give out orders to her staff in preparation. They than dispersed moving to their appropriate stations.

Than to the local vendors. The Diarchs had personally been out into the streets of Revelin recently and worked with local civilians to ensure to garner quickly assessable fresh fruits, meats and hand held food for the guests. The citizens respected them, either through meeting with them in person or seeing the displays of might from the Sloan Naval Academy. They were on their best behavior and brought a lively aura of what it meant to live within their Diarchy space directly into the fold.

Than it was time to move beneath the arena; Varis would walk among the combatants and gauge their prowess/competence. On one side a tight nit group sat together in the corner discussing tactics and sizing up opponents. These were the Mandalorian's; an obscure unknown clan rising up within Diarchy space that were looking to make a name for themselves. The other side of the room had a large group of smugglers and pirates. Loudly drinking and probably only here for the chance at coin. The unique members of the cast were the Xeno's. The Diarchy was more open to non human species than most "Empires" and it was a welcoming site to see a Wookie, Trandoshin and some from of Machine each standing on their own away from the rest.

Leaning in to the pin on his chest he relayed a signal to the handler on the other end of the line. "Inform Darius Vex - Varis gave out his codeword for the appropriate party (Not Darius's real name) - all preparations have been set and the games are ready to begin."

 

[Tertius C. Nargath]

Location: Grand Ceremony
Tag: Liin Terallo | Diarch Reign | Judah Dashiell

While the ceremony had been under way, Tertius was quite busy with handling a few matters in regards to the finances of the Diarchy itself. He had taken upon himself the honor to not just be one of the Diarchy's main corporate sponsors, but also to advise the twin throne on matters of finance and help out with the numbercrunching aspects whenever possible. As such, it was no surprise that he himself first made a detour towards the Diarchy's Council offices to at the very least know just how much the Diarchs had spent on the ceremony, though this was but a small part, since he also needed to know whether or not the Diarchy's finances would be healthy enough to carry the sudden expansion.

Because of this, the Marquis was forced to delay his own attendancy to the party itself and as such sent his personal assistant Amalia to at the very least greet the Diarchs and let them know that he was present within their domain but would not be arriving at the ceremony itself due to him utilizing his position and status within the Diarchy to make sure the newly founded major power would not be swindled by its older and more experienced galactic counterparts.

As soon as Amalia entered the space where the ceremony would be held, she looked around to see if she could find Lady Liin Terallo , who she noticed was talking to Judah Dashiell who was considered one of the founders of the CIG, thus thinking this was a business talk, Amalia decided to simply look for the Diarch Reign or Diarch Rellik to explain her employer's current absence...

 

[Nyva Shei]

As always, I've been given orders. I put on a beautiful evening dress so as not to stand out in the crowd; I'm wearing a quite lovely black outfit and have made an effort with my appearance. My mistress said she would be positioned up high to get the best view of the ceremony.

I look up and indeed see her filming the scene with her datapad. For my part, I'm holding a glass of champagne, blending in and pretending to be a guest.

This also allows me to hear the crowd's murmurs and ensure that the message the diarchy wants to convey is understood by everyone.

I take a sip this thing has bubbles. I'm not used to drinking champagne; it's always the other one who does it. Perhaps she wanted to relax the usual setting by letting me have some champagne. I must admit, it's quite good.

Both Diarchs are present, and their speech is expected any moment now. Security is at its highest. I keep an eye on my communicator in case my mistress sends me orders.

I stand in the middle of the crowd; there are no people to treat, so I'm technically out of work. Hopefully, it stays that way; I haven't planned any interventions today.

I just hope my mistress will be reasonable about how much alcohol she consumes. Often, she ends up with a hangover, much to my dismay. Just thinking about it makes me sigh.

I can't really blame her, though, as I tend to drink from time to time myself. Neither of us is better than the other.

 

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 2 - BACKROOM POLITICS

---

CURRENT MISSION - Low Profiles, Lower Chances to Die
Immediate Goals -
1: Ensure that the Sith-Imperial Banking Clan gain a favorable deal (Optional)
2: See what these Diarchs are really about.
1: DO NOT BE SEEN BY THE BUTCHER
1.1: IF YOU DO, DON'T DIE

BLUFOR - Most Sith, technically

OPFOR - Darth Carnifex (but don't say it to his face)

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Gavin Vel || Naamino Zuukamano || Ova Ziss

---

A shadow is upon this abode, and Trayze's throat tightened as he felt it coming. Plans needed to be changed, they needed to be changed rapidly - thankfully, he was on the payroll of one of Carnifex's many, many, consorts and so his presence wasn't treason; or at least, no more treasonous than whatever the kark those two acolytes were up to.

Find someone who looks wealthy, who's good with money, talk for a bit, and for the love of Bogan, don't speak unless spoken to.

Thank the stars that there was someone who Trayze could speak to, a well dressed man who was seated, coincidentally near the two Acolytes he sensed earlier.

"Quite the party, isn't it? - What brings you here?"​

"Business b'fore pleasure, sadly." Trayze answered, offering a handshake, before conjuring a business card in another hand in a clearly practiced maneuver. "Trayze Tesar, Fleet Captain Under Marque and Liaison fer the Sith Imperial Banking Clan." he introduced himself. This placement had to be strategic - firstly, he didn't hide his presence in the Force. To hide would prove he had something to hide - which he definitely didn't! Secondly, the two Acolytes may actually stop looking so karking awkward and relax a bit - at least for their own safety; he'd never seen these two before in his life, but the deaths of youths - especially for something they couldn't have known, would be a shame.

Thirdly, and to wrap his newfound associate into his alibi, Trayze would allow the Force to flicker ever so slightly. Gliding across the skin through a handshake, his species' inborn talent would serve him well. Some glib, some genuine interest, and perhaps a few well placed words may prove a more stalwart shield than prostrate grovelling.

"Who might Ah have th' pleasure of addresssin'?"

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Objectives One & Two | Liin Terallo , OPEN

"Commonwealth is an autonomous operating region. They seemed quite focused on the future and merely making a partnership with the Sith. A little less focused on the wizards and lightsabers and more on science and progress. I haven't had a problem out there yet but as you mentioned, the only government I have any real issue with is the Dark Empire. Being threatened with death puts a damper on my mood."

Judah stopped to take a sip of his whisky, looking around. This event invited those from all over, so it wasn't impossible that someone from the Dark Empire could be in attendance. He had no issue with a citizen of their borders, it would be more a government official wanting to get into a verbal sparring match.

"Oh thank you, just the standard uniform for men at these things." A small chuckle, it wasn't far from the truth. "As for the speech, I would say longer. This is their introduction to the 'verse. They will want to at least define who they are on the broader scale I would think."

 

[Liin Terallo]

Objectives: 1&2

I am still uncertain of going into anyone's territories. Most especially the larger governments. I do not know why, but but my gut instinct tells me to be wary. I am no psychic, certainly. But I do trust my gut. It has gotten me this far, at least.

The only one to have threatened death upon me was the Sith Lord that had attacked Ilic City. Although those threats were made over holotransmissions and never in person. I am not surprised at the cowardice that many overpowered Force wizards possess. You take away their powers and they would probably be at a loss and unable to live out a 'normal' life.

"Well anyone that would threaten death towards people like us are fools." There was no other way to say it. No sugar-coating it either. It was just a simple fact that I drink my wine to. "Yes and I suppose that it will be double the length, given that there are two of them leading. Unless one decides to take a back seat during the ceremony? Diarch Reign I have spoken with many times. But I have yet to even be introduced to Diarch Rellik , let alone see him in person. Have you, Mister Dashiell?"

Tag: Judah Dashiell

 

[Ova Ziss]

Objectives One & Two
Location: Grand Declaration Ceremony on Bastion​

"Ah, a Fleet Captain! Very good. Well met, Mr. Tresar" ( Trayze Tesar ). Ova looked at the man's business card, then pocketed it and presented his own.

Sith Imperial Banking Clan? Ova wondered in his head. He didn't have time to think about it, but he knew he heard that name from somewhere. And wherever that somewhere was, it wasn't good. He figured he would keep talking anyways. People aren't just their titles, after all.

"Ova Ziss. I am the President of the United Trade Authority on Dantooine. I'm the preferred candidate in the race for Governor of Dantooine."

The business card Ova gave to Trayze had a circular golden shape with wings around it, with a golden U on a red background. It also stipulated a discount at the UTA's online store, valid for one purchase.

Ova reached forward to shake Trayze's hand. When he does, the whispers of the force enter up through Ova's arm and through Trayze's hand during the handshake, as Trayze's special power activates. Trayze would feel...something...that is related to the force inside of Ova Ziss. The force pulses only weakly inside of the mineral baron. Ova's power - if he had any at all - was untrained, untapped, and naive.

And then, Trayze would feel something more: a more overt, vicarious impulse from Ova's brain.

It was... Suspicion.

Ova seems smiley and "normal", as far as you can see. It's likely that he did not notice what just happened.

"Cheers, to the Diarchy." He raises his glass in a friendly gesture, and he would hopefully clink glasses with Trayze. "So, a Captain, huh? I'm sure you know all about spacing and fleeting. How far did you have to come to get here? I was recently on a hunting trip to Kashyyk." Ova wasn't gloating, but merely making conversation. He did tell the truth: Ova was recently in Kashyyk, but it wasn't entirely a hunting trip. Ova would spare Trayze the sordid details. Ova took a good long sip of his gin and tonic, trying not to remember what it was like to go without hot water.

Imperial Banking Clan...where have I heard that name?, Ova thought to himself.

Ova continued to make conversation with the man, eagerly anticipating the speech and the festivities to follow. He soon spots a familiar face ( Liin Terallo ) a few tables away standing with a man ( Judah Dashiell ) who looked suspiciously like Makai. Ova was grateful to have a potential excuse to leave his current company, if need be, but he didn't take it just yet. His glass had just been filled.

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Darth Malum of House Marr //:
//: Bastion //:
//: Obj 1 //:
//: Dress //:

Bastion, a place where she should be happy to revisit. On Bastion, Quinn Varanin grew into the person that she is today. Her schooling and blissful youth were spent in the halls of the Bastion Academy. Unfortunately, Bastion held painful memories for the young Echani Princess.

Quinn sat comfortably in the back seat of the elongated speeder, her eyes watching the familiar buildings pass by as they headed to their destination. Sighing softly, she forced her gaze from the window, particularly the moment the remnants of the Bastion Academy came into view. Hands in her lap, she looked to the youngest of the Dark Councilors, who had decided to grace her with his presence as her escort. Quinn forced her red-tinted lips into a small smile, "I never thought I'd be back on Bastion in this lifetime." Quinn watched the man, remembering his mentions of Bastion being a home for his family. She wondered how he felt knowing that the Empire hadn't reclaimed Bastion. One day, if the Empire ever returned to Bastion, she knew she would have a fight in its claim. Though deep down, Quinn knew she would step aside for Malum, allowing him to rule over an ancestral home of his family.

It was an honor she'd never get to have. Even now, Eshan was far beyond her reach, with the Alliance controlling its government through her sister.

She let her eyes leave Malum, focusing again on the buildings they were passing. Bastion had been rebuilt by the Imperials after their betrayal. Quinn had only been a young girl and nearly lost her life at the hands of a Sith that sided with the enemy. She fought for her life and survived only with the aid of her Zambrano lover. Remembering Vesta caused her to feel the cool metal of the locket she wore around her neck, fingers caressing it gently, wishing it still summoned the Shi'ido to where she was.

"Sorry, I don't want to bring down the mood," Quinn laughed gently and waved a hand in his direction. "Look at you, all dressed to impress." Tilting her head, she continued to smile with a small shake of her head. "You even did your hair." The Princess teased, remembering one of the last times they had seen each other. After Alisteri's death, Malum seemed to have lost himself. She didn't poke more, knowing that while he seemed fine, there was more under the surface.

"Do you know anything about this Diarchy?" She asked, remembering small conversations she had with Gerwald about them. It seemed the Sith weren't too worried about their existence. Still, she remembered what it was like not worrying about the cries of the Imperials.

While she focused and continued to discuss with Malum, the speeder began to slow down, announcing that they were arriving at the location of the party of sorts. She sighed and shook her head once more with a smile, despite how many times she had been to such events, she still had butterflies. It was odd being escorted by a friend; she would have preferred a partner, but only for appearances. Being alone was a new adventure for her, but Malum had been kind and unknowingly a rock for her. Looking at him as the vehicle stopped, he saw a moment of vulnerability and a smile he had never seen before. "Thank you, Malum." There was no context, but she hoped he knew what she was alluding to.

Leaving the speeder, Quinn easily slipped her arm in his while her free hand grasped the white fabric of her dress. She allowed Malum to walk her in, and as they entered, she let her arm slip from him as her eyes scanned the large room before her. Quinn wondered if there were any familiar faces. As quickly as she entered, she easily spotted Alina and the acolyte ( Adean Castor ) from the Academy. She wondered if Alina had taken a shine to the student, which benefitted them. Alina Tremiru was smart and strong - able to teach anyone. She found herself admiring the woman while her heart ached simultaneously. Quinn turned again to Malum and forced her smile again.

"So, anyone you know? Is the dress too much?" She cringed slightly, with her voice cracking obviously feeling exposed with the deep slit at the front. The bangles around her arms and wrists shined, reflecting the room's bright lights. The dress was far from what the Echani typically wore, but she tried to feel more comfortable with her exposed skin.

As much as she wanted to deny it, she hoped someone in particular noticed.

 

[Astride Velvet]

All of this is way too much.

A village resident suggested I head to the northeast of the galaxy, specifically to the headquarters of the diarchy. Apparently, they are about to make a sensational announcement any minute now.

Unlike back home, it's warm here, so I didn't bring my traditional fur coat. I left it aboard my personal shuttle. As for the outfit I'm wearing, it's a purple suit with a white shirt and tie a simple choice. I didn't bother much with it. This outfit dates back to when I worked for the Empire. Especially in the offices, because no one appreciates a wild woman like me if I dress too lightly, and I need to cover my tattoos as well. That's is my outfit. Its time to party after all.

There are a lot of people here; it's been an eternity since I last saw so many people gathered in one place. Since it's a day of celebration, I also allow myself an alcoholic cocktail while looking for a good spot to listen to the speech.

With the frozen environment of my home planet, even when dressed, I don't feel cold at all in fact, quite the opposite, I feel warm and am eager to return home.

On a day like this, sometimes you have to make moves to stay informed about what the galaxy plans to do. I can easily sense some auras standing out from the crowd. One of the Diarchs passed through the crowd not far from me.

My glass holds an alcoholic drink with fruit juice, which suits me well in its classic appearance.

The wall I'm leaning against allows me to be comfortable while enjoying the event standing up. All I want is to return to my small winter home, away from all this noise.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

He wondered if it was idly an insult that it seemed the youngest of the Dark Councillors was so often assigned the task of diplomatic deployment. Of course, the logical and rationalising mind was able to make instances of which that was not the case, after all, it had been he and Darth Arc- Taeli, who had negotiated the entry of the Commonwealth of Dosuun into the Sith Empire... for all the good it had done him. And of course, there were other explanations, Taeli was disinterested, Gerwald was... himself, the Emperor was absent, and the Empress...

...Well as much as one was often far too willing to prostrate themselves towards Srina Talon, such behaviour may not exactly have been appreciated by their hosts.

Leaving him he supposed, the one on the periphery, the renegade, but one that... he supposed had shown to them a penchant for being willing for the diplomatic approach, such was he supposed... not exactly common amongst Sith Lords, so prideful, so arrogant, so sure of their own strength and power.

Such were where his idle thoughts took him, easier to focus on if insult was meant amongst the halls of power where much of them were thrown, than the prescient fact which was becoming more and more difficult by the second to deny.

He was on Bastion.

Unlike the companion that sat beside him upon cushioned leather seating, he was not gazing out the window of their speeder, his mind flicked with the remembrance of the history that the Princess of Eshan had upon the world... a history that he could claim to share in some regard, some time ago, in the depths of memory which had been lost in the evolution between childhood to adulthood...

...Bastion had been home.

Jutrand was the homeworld of House Marr, ever since the end of the Gulag Plague at least, where they had inhabited before then was... well difficult to truly place, Ios had been where they had fled to, not where they had come from after all, but regardless, even as Jutrand was their home, it had been Dromund Kaas and Bastion that had been made complimentary homes.

All in a bid to gain them recognition of their rightful positions, as the scions of Darth Marr. They had never succeeded, sure, some of them would accept their claims, yet, even as loyalty burned in their bones, their duty to the reigning Emperor.

One which had failed them.

And so they had to flee their homes, as Dromund Kaas and Bastion had burned.

In some way, he held no trauma of such events, the rise of the New Imperial Order, the fall of the Tenth Sith Empire, the invasions and rebellions, the failure of their leadership, the devastation wrought by their enemies, the dishonour of the Marr flight, the loss of their home. He was too young...

...But memories persisted beyond what was simply kept within his mind, he had no grandparents, killed in the Fall. Many Marrs remained ever missing, cousins, kin, who he would never know, as even though only spoken of in whisper, apparently some had chosen to defect... either way, he would never know them. Bastion would fall to the Imperial traitors, as Dromund Kaas and the whole Stygian Caldera was corrupted by the presence of the Crusaders of Ashla.

He held no memories of either event, but the humiliation suffered upon his people, the pain which was wrought upon families ripped apart, of homes desecrated.

He did not need memories of the events to feel them ever keenly.

And now he was here...

...And he had no idea what to feel.

Red eyes flicked upwards at the sound of a familiar... comforting voice, the words poised to him thoughts which he had long since echoed, "...I never thought we would be returned to the Stygian Caldera in my lifetime, but now, Korriban, Dromund Kaas, Ziost, and Krayiss Two, along with the entire Caldera has been returned to us..." Bastion was different, they both knew that it had not been returned to them.

Yet, now here they were upon its surface, welcomed, by misguided cousins.

Her gaze broke away from him, back to surveying the buildings, which... she looked upon with what seemed to be familiarity. A familiarity which he knew for a fact he did not share, but somehow... felt as if he could. He had left this world when he had been a child, he held no memories here, even as he could call it home...

...How could he call it familiar?

Her hands fell upon the amulet around her plunging neck, as even the reputation for lasciviousness he held, he gazed not for what was held beneath the white dress, which when he had first seen it had so easily taken his breath away, but very specifically for the amulet.

...They had not talked about what had happened on Echnos.

For what he had seen, for what she knew he had seen...

...Perhaps that was for the best.

Her gaze was back upon him, and quick as a dot his was to match, rubies meeting emeralds flecked with andalusite, as he offered the ghost of a smile to her entreaties, "You need not apologise for that... it is... odd for me as well," He readily admitted, as her hand waved in front of his face, as the smile became more certain, the more she spoke, her smile infectious in the way it was rare, "Thank you for your kind words, I aim to please and impress," The barest measure of a smirk twinged his features as the words of the noble emerged, "After all, we would not want this Diarchy thinking lesser of us."

It was the natural segway beyond the awkwardness, of the purpose of why they were here.

And what possible answer could he give? It would be difficult to confess his true thoughts without admitting how much of their ideology was shared by him, of course not all... but, they were well and truly, cousins, in a much different way to that of the schismatics of the so-called Dark Empire.

And he hoped, they might find common ground.

"...Do you remember learning about the Brotherhood of Darkness? For all I have heard of their movements within the Galactic Alliance, and the alliance they have made with Korriban, Skere Kaan's teachings seem to have lived on after all, despite Darth Bane's best attempts."

And the Brotherhood of Darkness had fallen, perhaps that would be the fate of this Diarchy. For all which Malum held that some precepts of the Brotherhood held value...

...They had fallen. Some change was necessary to the model, but perhaps the Diarchy had achieved that too.

If that was the case, what was he to do?

The deceleration of the speeder, allowed him thankfully to banish consideration of such thoughts, allowing himself a breath, as he reached down into the sides of his dress robes, the replica mask... the face of the Lord of Duty, which he wore over his own. How to explain to someone that he was comforted by being choked by the expectation and history that came along with this mask?

He gazed into the face.

The face that had determined all he was.

Until that same ever-familiar, ever-comforting voice strummed over his drums, gazing into another face.

One which he had never seen before.

He swallowed the protrusion at his throat, bobbing like an apple at a summer's fair, his mind frozen, as only one singular move felt appropriate.

"You're welcome, Quinn."

They exited the speeder, as the mask overtook his face, breathing in the fresh air, their final moments before they were to play this game in which these two noble scions had been trained for their entire lives. Masked eyes fell upon her, as her arm coiled around his own, his free hand resting easily upon the limb, their show of solidarity.

As they crossed the threshold of annihilation, and the dance began.

The heralds announced their arrivals, as they pressed inward, yet, even as they fluttered through his long list of titles, his only focus strangely enough, was on the loss of warmth, as her arms left his, his hand leaving hers, as they found themselves amongst the crowd, and masked eyes found themselves following the Princess of Eshan's.

Finding themselves upon one in which he had a keen interest.

Hopefully, she would swim rather than sink, so far away from home.

"...My cousin had mentioned he would be in attendance, mayhaps he is already here," He answered idly, before pausing at the end of her words, the tone was one which was not familiar coming out of the Echani... but the words were one which brought about a glimmer within his eyes, hidden beneath the mask.

He drew himself closer, the mask placed at her ear, to all others, as if the Dark Councillor was indulging the Princess of Eshan in some private joke, "...Your dress has left me dying of thirst, perhaps refreshments are in order?" For as scandalous as the words were, they were delivered entirely deadpan, even with the faintest twinge of the smirk invisible underneath, as he pulled away, and she was made to stare into the mask once more.

Quinn Varanin
Mentioned: Darth Carnifex Trayze Tesar Adean Castor Gerwald Lechner Taeli Raaf Srina Talon Darth Empyrean

 

[Shan Pellian]

Tags: Damos Vakaro
Objective Two

​

The rhythmic hum of the DSD Dominion's shuttle engines faded as the landing ramp lowered, revealing Shan Pellian descending with his usual precision and poise. His uniform was immaculate, the dark, angular design reflecting his position as High Admiral of the Diarchy fleet. The landing bay was a blend of activity and order, a testament to the efficiency he demanded of every operation under his command.

At the edge of the platform stood Damos, a familiar figure whose presence brought a rare note of camaraderie to Shan's otherwise rigid world. As Shan approached, the faintest smile crossed his face.

"Councilor Damos," he greeted, extending a hand in a firm, respectful shake. "It's been too long. Bastion seems to be thriving under your watch—no explosions in sight, which is more than most systems can claim these days."

Shan's eyes narrowed slightly, his tone sharpening with focus. "The fleet ensures the stage remains set for this gathering. It's the dialogue within the Crucible of Order that will determine whether the galaxy sees us as a passing shadow—or the dawn of a new era."

The two began walking toward the conference center, their strides in sync as they traversed the sleek, polished walkways.

"I hear the preparations are progressing smoothly," Shan continued. "How are you finding the role of host to some of the galaxy's most ambitious—and suspicious—figures?"

As they neared the entrance to the conference center, Shan paused for a moment, his gaze shifting to the towering skyline of Bastion.

"Damos," he said, his tone lighter now, "it's good to see you leading from the front. This moment belongs to all of us, but the galaxy will remember those who stood firm in the early days. Let's not keep our guests waiting."

With that, Shan gestured for Damos to lead the way, his mind already turning toward the negotiations and power plays awaiting them inside.

Text: 797979

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Úlfs Reiði
TAGS: Darth Malum of House Marr | Quinn Varanin | Diarch Reign | Darth Carnifex | @OPEN

War was what Gerwald knew. Diplomacy was something Gerwald had learned. Remaining unpredictable was an art form. The Dread Wolf rarely broke from the character he played publicly, but certain occasions which tugged at his curiosity required he shed the mask of the barbaric beast and show a side only few knew existed. It was within his nature to be both beast and man. Why was it then unfathomable that he could be both barbaric and refined.

He was dressed in black from head to toe. The formal attire of the Sith Lord was nothing less than immaculate and pristine. Nothing was out of place, not even a strand of hair which had been pulled into a tight man bun. The Dread Wolf had taken the time to shape his beard, and save the scar down his right eye which he had acquired on Naboo during the cataclysmic event which brought the Confederacy of Independent Systems to its knees, his skin was without blemish.

A dark presence could be felt in the palace. It was strong and overpowering. Those who were not familiar with it would mistake it for the dark side itself. Knowing that Darth Carnifex was somewhere near caused a wolfish grin to appear on the face of the Dread Wolf. Gerwald moved about the rest of the room where other dignitaries were gathered. His head nodded to those heads of state which he knew, and longer pauses were given to those he did not. Introductions were made, contact information exchanged, and the obligatory promise for a future meeting which neither party truly expected to keep was made.

It was a battlefield of a different kind. The weapons of diplomacy were not as direct as the Dread Wolf preferred to be. It was why Srina Talon had often required Gerwald to accompany her on many of her meetings upon his appointment as Lord Commander. It had been the now Empress which taught the Dread Wolf the rules of this game. He would suffer through it, and none would be the wiser.

He caught sight of Darth Malum of House Marr and Quinn Varanin together. It did not surprise the Wolf to see either of them at the gathering, though after what he had heard from Echnos he did not expect to see them together. Malum would certainly do his best to secure favor with this nation as they could prove to be useful where the Empire of the Lost was concerned. In fact, if they could prove to be a distraction to the Imperial government, it would allow Gerwald more time to secure his own interests.

Gerwald was curious what the young councilor would see as the preferred outcome, and perhaps he would make his way over to the pair. For now, he was content to observe. His eyes were on the lookout for the esteemed leader of this fledgling power. The agreements which had been secured with Korriban needed to extend to the Sith Order as a whole. Whether Malum could extend the agreements or not, Gerwald was determined to ensure one outcome. If it meant allowing the youngest to appear as the kind one, so be it.

The Dread Wolf knew how to play the hound.

 

[Antipater]

Antipater was present. He stood at the fringes - arms folded impatiently across his chassis. He wore the neat, trim uniform of an Imperial functionary, with a rank insignia plaque that corresponded to a Moff.

His thoughts could not be betrayed outwardly, but his personality matrix was in a feedback loop of simmering contempt and apoplectic indignation. Longstanding plans to integrate Jaemus into the "Dark" Empire were now in dire jeopardy... To say nothing of the plans within those plans. Meticulous preparation was set to be jettisoned, all in the name of... What? Another pair of Sith Lords? Two tiresome men who had come from nowhere to accomplish nothing, hideously out of step with...

It wasn't important.

So far as Antipater could be concerned, there were two schools of Sith: the ones which recognized and acknowledged what they were, in all the grotesque splendor of their raw power... And the pretenders. The ones who danced around and denied their intrinsic nature. "Oh, no, we're not Sith Lords. We're diarchs. This is something new and different. We promise."

As if to magnify the distinction, many of the former school could be seen skulking around. It was only natural for them to wish to hear from their cousins, Antipater supposed, but it rarely boded well to have so many concentrated in one place.

He marked each exit and began calculating the most optimal path back to his shuttle. Just in case.

@Whoever, Man​

 

[Amara Zambrano]

Aceita​

"Thanks."

She hadn't more than glanced at the contents of the glass before she brought the cocktail up to her lips and nursed on the brightly colored drink, a Tarkenian Night Flower. Everywhere she looked there were women in beautiful, or sometimes rather dated, dresses or men in either suits or some sort of military dress that neither made sense to her nor fit the mood. There was little doubt in her mind that most of the people were here to try to worm their way into another government's graces, that or survey the diarchy for some form of vulnerability and the like, but, aside from speculation on the motives of the other people present, there was far less effort being put into being here from her. Living in the here and now, drinking just enough to feel that comfortable static buzz that made the droning these sorts of people made bearable, and getting into interesting conversations was all Amara was interested in.

Amara been called a hedonist before, not that she'd ever disputed it.

"Could I get another one?" She asked, once one of the many bartending staff had came back around to her. For now she was just people-watching, a rather boring thing to do if she was being truthful but then few people were rather open to talking to her if her passing resemblance to her sister was what came to mind when they met her. Her cousin, Darth Carnifex , had made his appearance some time ago, not that the two had ever spoken - her father, his uncle, had made a point to make sure she knew he'd be there as a way to convince her it was worth the time and effort of showing up even if the sort of partying the people attending were getting up to weren't what she considered actual partying - but nobody else she'd seen walk by was anyone she recognized.

Similarly, perhaps pleasantly, she hadn't been mistaken for her sister yet in any of the conversations she had before now.

"Thank you, again." She said as she sat the empty glass down and reached for the next as the bartender returned.

 

[Trayze Tesar]

OBJECTIVE 2 - BACKROOM POLITICS

---

CURRENT MISSION - Low Profiles, Lower Chances to Die
Immediate Goals -
1: DO NOT BE SEEN BY THE BUTCHER
1.1: IF YOU DO, DON'T DIE

BLUFOR - Darth Malum of House Marr

OPFOR - Darth Carnifex (but don't say it to his face)

TARGETING ACTION(S) - Gavin Vel || Naamino Zuukamano || Ova Ziss || Open Frequency

---

Seriously did every Sith in the karking galaxy have to be here? There was the Butcher King, his cousin Darth Malum of House Marr , the two acolytes - what next? His boss, Darth Xyrah coming in to have a "chat" about his "work performance" and "opportunities" (read as, a more forward inquiry as to why he wasn't an out and out Kainite)? Was Srina Talon going to sashay in wearing the latest fashion forward attire? Darth Empyrean Himself on the ivory keys? It was enough to make a man sick with stress, but perhaps it can be kept at bay through good conversation.

Mercifully, it seemed that both he and Mr. Ziss seemed respectfully disinterested - so if the two peeled off, Trayze could excuse himself to the facilities. Until then, play polite, play nice, and don't get spotted.

Breathe in, breathe out, assess the gentleman in front of you - just a perfectly normal plutocrat turned politicia-Bogan's bollocks, was he Force sensitive too?!

Courage truly was not the absence of fear, but merely its mastery.

While the glasses clinked, Trayze did not cheer to the Diarchy - not even in his thoughts, because the big Panathan bastard would no doubt smell it. "Oh just out of Korriban, not the furthest Ah've travelled." He answered. "Though Ah'm a bit more curious 'bout yerself. Switchin' from profits to policymakin'... has that always been a calling of yers, or was there an opportunity that you just had ta' take? How does the President of the UTA find 'imself in the gubernatorial race?"

Keep the conversation on him, and away from the fact that you're technically working for the consort of the giant karking Force-tick in the room.

 

[Ova Ziss]

Objectives One & Two
Location: Grand Declaration Ceremony on Bastion​

"Korriban! Ah yes, a man like me can appreciate its history, and the kyber crystals that grow there. - It's been a calling, yes, it has". Ova chuckled. He leans in, remarking that "When you get to this high of an executive level, it starts to look a lot like politics."

Ova waved over one of the servers. They had mini sandwiches with fish in them, and he tucked into one. No sense being nervous on an empty stomach. There sure were a lot of Sith around. He gestured to the plate full of sandwiches, in case Trayze Tesar may have been hungry too. It was difficult to not be nervous, with so many people and dignitaries rubbing shoulders.

"Truth be told, I don't know how it happened. I suppose the people of Dantooine just needed me to be where I am. I am favored to win, after all."

Ova's already finished the sandwich.

Another person soon joins their table: a tanned man with black hair and green eyes wearing decorative red ceremonial Mandalorian armor. He looks to be dressed like a bodyguard. He slowly eases himself into the chair beside Ova and across from Trayze.

"Sorry I'm late", Grenz said gruffly to Ova and Trayze Tesar . "Couldn't find my pauldron again."

Ova blinked, wondering how the tall, skinny Mandalorian managed to forget a whole pauldron somewhere. "Mr. Tresar, this is my son-in-law Grenz. He runs the security division of my company. Pardon his manners."

"Hullo."

Grenz shook Trayze's hand, blushing slightly as he does. Trayze would feel a tiny little whisper of the force, and then nothing. ...unaware...

"Grenz tried fleeting once in the Unknown Regions. Tell us about it, Grenz."

"...don't wanna", said Grenz, his mouth already full of a combination of chocolates and liquor. He coughs slightly, and then keeps eating.

"Huh. Alright." Ova tilted his head, then turned to Trayze, kind-of-but-not-really changing the topic. "What about you, Mr. Tresar? What brings you here? You said you were here for business too, right?"