Hammering The Durasteel Of Accord [CA, FO]

[Matt the Radar Tech]

CHISS SPACE​

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Undisclosed Location; Space.​

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Alliances are useful in some situations. In others, they are vital; however, it is wise to approach all such agreements with caution. ​

A single Ticsuti-Class Chiss Star Destroyer floated in the void of space.

Standing alone at the bridge viewports, dressed in his military uniform of a pristine black-and-burgundy color, Mitth'orn'eruod stared at the stars. The deck was silent, save for the humming of holographs and whispers between crew, as the Chiss Captain continued to muse, gloved hands at the small of his back. Following the successful conclusion of the alliance with the Sith Empire, it had been a simple process to convince the other Ruling Houses that aligning in a similar agreement with the First Order was prudent. After all, not only were the First Order close to the edge of Chiss space, they were also non-hostile toward the Sith; and with that combination, the Chiss Ascendancy simply needed to reach an accord with both groups, to avoid upsetting either.

Unlike the Sith, Mitth'orn'eruod could more fully understand the First Order. The military, the ranks, the focus on technological advancement mostly beyond the grasp of the mysterious Force. The Dark Side was an unknown for the Captain, however it was not an unexpected quandary - one could expect certain things from a Sith, certain behaviors, as was their nature. But the First Order, Mitth'orn'eruod had had little dealings or knowledge of them, beyond what was publicly available.

It would prove an interesting meeting.

"Commander, sensors indicate vessels approaching from hyperspace," The crewman said from behind, eyes studying a panel of computer screens. "Communications preparing to contact and direct our guests to the appropriate hangar."

"Thank you, Ensign," Mitth'orn'eruod responded, offering a glance over his shoulder and a nod to the Chiss. "I will meet them in the conference room. Have Ensign Mesa'ebito'puze meet the delegates and escort them to the meeting area accordingly."

Mitth'orn'eruod let out a low exhale, red eyes bright, as he watched a moment longer, before turning his back to the stars and walking off the bridge...

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[member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]​

 

[Asharad Graush]

CHISS SPACE
UNKNOWN REGIONS
FIV MERCILESS

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The games of politics was one the Supreme Commander was evidently not finished playing.

With the Iron Empire gone, the Chiss were entering the Galaxy in force, very much unlike their previous M.O's of being isolationists, which the Iron Empire had adapted to just as well.

Undoubtedly the Sith Lord hadn't needed to come, some trusted advisor of his couldn't come in his place, but it was silent on the Alliance Front. War would likely re-emerge under their own terms, if the past was to be any indicator of the future of the outcome with their enemies to the East. Still, Graush sought to meet the Chiss. There was a curiosity that spurned him on as to whether the Chiss could pose a threat to him and the Order. Though more so, he wanted to know more about these... Expansive Chiss, that actively sought out alliances, rather than being the targets and victims of growing empires.

"Your ship's pilot reports completing the pre-flight check."

"Send for Governor [member="Madelyn Lowe"]. Direct her to the Hangar with the rest of the delegation."

Rising from the command chair, the near seven foot armoured being that was Graush departed from the Command Deck and was enroute to meeting with the rest of the delegation.

"Reversion to realspace in ten seconds," sounded over the intercom, but he paid it little mind. Drawn from his internal reverie as the doors cycled open, the Sith Lord came out on the Hangar Deck, marching straight for the troop transport, and barely registering the ship reverting to realspace, even as the hangar bay doors opened, the osmotic field the only thing maintaining their atmosphere, as he marched up the ramp, he turned, when he realized he was being followed, and nodded to the Captain of the black garbed troopers, a crimson sigil upon their shoulder pauldrons.

"The troopers are in position, my Lord."

"Join them," he answers, a gauntleted hand hitting the disengage button by the ramp, and it began to raise soon after, followed by the transport vessel doing the same as it vacated the safety of the Merciless' hangar and into the unpredictable void of Space.

​

[member="Kyrel Ren"] - [member="Thorne"]​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Chiss Space,
aboard the FIV Merciless.

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Governor Madelyn Lowe stalked down the halls of the FIV Malice, having been summoned from her quiet quarters a few minutes earlier. She was to join the delegation here to meet with the Chiss and join them aboard the second transport.

The rooms aboard the Darr Itah were bright and sterile, like all starships on which the Governor had travelled. She hated space travel. It ruined her mood, and put bags under her eyes. She'd grown used to the softly lit, tastefully furnished office back in Edgefields-on-Varonat. Sure, she was a woman who valued practicality, but the plain desk and rigid bed in her quarters were just institutional.

She'd done her best to appear put-together. Her hair was immaculate, her conservative dress neatly pressed, black shoes polished to a shine. But, beneath her simple makeup the dark rings under her eyes shone through. The tension in her shoulders was apparent through her clothes. Madelyn was a woman under pressure.

There had been some cleaning house back home. She'd taken the advice of the recently excused Grand Moff, and made some adjustments to her cabinet. It hadn't been particularly difficult. Money had changed hands, promotions promised, the usual. Three ministers had received knocks on their doors in the early hours of the morning. The smarter two had resigned. The other was found by police the next day, hanging from an overpass.

Still, there was a politician on Varonat proving annoying. His name was Terron Hadfeld, and he'd emerged as a stubborn opponent to her economic campaigns, and had continued to be a thorn in her side ever since. Even worse, he was sharp as a tack, and her feeble attempts to buy him off had almost ended in disaster. He was an issue to be handled delicately, and any engagement that took her away from Varonat was a chance for him to run amok.

With her assistant and a guard in tow, she made her way into the hangar, nodding at a few of the diplomats she vaguely recognised, and boarding the ramp without fuss. She sighed over some papers as the ship rose up, following the first transport to the Chiss vessel.

[member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Thorne"]​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Aboard the FIV Malice
Chiss Space.

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Kyrel was not much for politics. He was a warrior plain and simple, a hand of the Supreme Leader, a weapon to be wielded by a strong arm outside of his own ambitions. He was not one for diplomacy and would have rather killed his enemies in fierce combat, then sit in a room in front of soft politicians who knew very little about the dark side. He had been aboard the craft of the Governor of Varonat, a world that was part of a second attempt by the Galactic Alliance to invade the Anoat Sector, and just like the Battles of Hoth, and Bespin they had failed. He had not had the pleasure of meeting Madelyn Lowe as the moment since he was brought on board he had been lost in meditation. He had come here as a representative for the Knights of Ren, with other Ren busy on assignments, he had recently got back from a journey into Sith Territory, and so was requested for this task.

His eyes snapped open beneath the mask he wore apart of the new armor known as the Raiment of the vigilant. Armor taken from a sect of Rogue Force User's, and added with modifications to make it look more intimidating, the mask a mixture of classic Sith Origin as well as influences from the Ubese species and Mandalorian Culture. Covered in a body suit with thick armor plating as well as being imbued with the dark side, the armor was as deadly as it was intimidating to the wearer's enemies. He looked from his seat to the saber that hovered in mid-air. Most meditation practices involved his saber known as Vader's Bane. The primary focus for sessions. The saber immediately deactivated with a hiss and was called forth back to it's master.

He could tell they had arrived in Chiss Space. Finishing up, he emerged from his quarters and proceeded to the hanger, following not far behind the Governor, once he had finally caught up he was able to be a few feet from behind her. Boarding the transport to the Chiss Vessel that could be seen from the transparasteel viewport. He gave the Governor a look before taking his seat in front of her. The transport exiting the hanger into the depths of space, and straight towards the Chiss Craft.

[member="Madelyn Lowe"] [member="Asharad Graush"] [member="Thorne"]​

 

[The Major]

Attached to the FIV Malice
The FIV Tortuga —Stealth Corvette
Chiss Space

Hitchhiking across most of space was no small feat; hitching that ride with the Malice, the vessel ferrying knights of Supreme Leader’s secretive cult, verged the boundaries of absurdist fantasy. However, with a Fallanassi aboard the violation of those boundaries were more trite, little lines, cobwebs suggesting a space not to cross, and were more like obstacles to plow right through.

Besides, it saved them a little fuel, and it didn’t hurt to be stingy during wartime -even if the front line was cold and static.

With a metallic pop the stealth vessel, something borrowed, deployed from the Malice. Making its way against the icy expanse of the void, the ship provided whatever proper codes were necessary and docked with the Chiss ship. Once the hatch opened out came the putrid content of the Security Bureau. In this case: the malcontent of Operations, the mad mouthpiece, the woman whose sanity slipped with the passing weeks as setback after setback clung to her cursed steps. The latest being the resignation of Lady Natasi Fortan, former Grand Moff. With that departure a significant amount of curried favor within the civilian government against the military branches was flushed like so much stigma down the toilet.

Stocks and value always changed. So it went; so it goes. Today, the Major didn’t have some ulterior motive: she was just here on assignment, deciding that leaving the monitoring of this talk to some far flung spy or operator to be remiss. Dressed in her usual Sunday Best, the Deputy Director whistled a chippy tune whilst proceeding to the delegation without escort, a pink parasol tucked underneath the crook of her left arm. Once the gap was closed with the group in the hanger she realized that she was going to have to be on her best behavior thanks to the Supreme Commander’s presence. Usually she would offer some sort of characteristic, dandy bow to the group, but in this case some of them had a presence so foul that she could not bear to bring her nose closer to their person. Not to mention the serious manner in which this lot prescribed to diligently.

“Hm. . .” Her eyebrow twitched at the sight of Sycopha- Governor Lowe, but she managed to keep her mouth shut. With any luck, nobody would feel it necessary to address her presence just yet.

[member="Thorne"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]​

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

Upon arrival, the First Order delegates were greeted by a small gathering of Chiss soldiers in the hangar bay, each in immaculately pressed black uniforms, standing at attention on either side of a single female Chiss before the group. In much the same manner as the other Chiss around, she maintained a formal stance, face passive as she awaited the transport to land with the guests. When the representatives were present, the young female bowed her head and introduced herself in a low tone.

"I am Ensign Mesa'ebito'puze," She said, voice even, eyes level as she looked to the group. "It is an honor to have you aboard the Cart'ar, one of our many Ticsuti-Class Chiss Star Destroyers. I will escort you to Commander Mitth'orn'eruod."

Turning, Mesa'ebito'puze began to lead the group through the immaculate interior of the Chiss ship. If there had been a single word for the environment within, it would be pristine. Every plate of hull and decking aligned perfectly, creating near seamless corridors that maximized space, with intricately designed support bracketing that barely hindered the spacious effect. Were it not for the exterior view the arrivals had, it would be forgivable if they presumed they walked on a far larger vessel. The plating itself was an almost glowing white, with jet-black accents and walkways; those with the knowledge would likely realize that the hull was touching the infrared spectrum...

"We hope that our standard of military vessel and presentation is to your standards," Mesa'ebito'puze said, her voice cutting through the strangely quiet interior of the Destroyer. "We understand that the First Order is a highly maintained and military focused organization, and we seek to display a similar ideology to fine detail and adherence to rank. Captain Mitth'orn'eruod has set expectations high for the Chiss Expansionary Defense Fleet, and we are eager to prove we can excel on those expectations. This way, please."

A number of equally clean, broad and open corridors later, and the group arrived. The Ensign stepped cleanly to one side of the double-doorway, bowing her head again.

"I will be here to escort you at the completion of the meeting, sirs."

She then pressed a button beside her, and the doors opened, revealing a brightly lit room within.

​

Mitth'orn'eruod sat quietly, room dim, as he glanced over scans and readings on a holopad. A gloved finger absently swiped across information sections, as his red eyes scoured what information there was to present from passive sensors on the First Order vessels.

Impressive, He thought to himself, noting visible armament. Certainly above-average offensive capability, but also room for improvement?

Above the doorway, a light blinked, indicating the visitors were approaching. Putting the holopad down, Mitth'orn'eruod stood and flattened the front of his uniform with his hands. Clearing his throat, the Captain waited, as the lights of the room brightened, and the doors beyond opened to reveal the First Order representatives. With a motion of his hand to the round table in the middle of the room, Mitth'orn'eruod nodded.

"Welcome, representatives," He said, smiling. He would wait to sit once the others had. "Please make yourselves comfortable. I am Captain Mitth'orn'eruod, however you may call me by my core name of Thorne. It is a pleasure to finally meet with the First Order. May I kindly ask for ranks and introductions?"

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[member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="The Major"]​