It's Only Business

[Placeholder 018]

(Before the Event.)


Miss Lasedri.

I must say, your work has captivated me for some time. I ask that you do not mistake me for a simple admirer, though I do very much fit the bill, but rather as an associate of equal standing.

I am known as Sylvanan Tal'verda. Disregard the Mandalorian Clan name, I owe them no allegiance.

I run a corporation you might be interested in. We specialize in the cloning of living tissue and medicine, you see. A thousand others like us have likely contacted you, but I assure you, our product is much...more.

You and I have very similar views my dear. I'm sure you understand, and I would like to discuss such views in person.

My ship will be in wait above Ession. I am aware that it is a long trip from the core, but I assure you, you will not leave disappointed.

​

​

-Kindest Regards, Sylvanan​

The Conflagration hung over Ession like a tiny moon. It was a small cruiser of sixteen meters. The ship was noticeably rare, an Espada stealth ship, the most effective infiltration vessel in the galaxy. Only a few dozen still flew in this day, and Sylvanan owned two of them.

There it waited, a signal transmitting from its base coded directly for the Republic leader's own vessel. Sylvanan sat on the bridge alongside his two droid assistants. A scan would show him as the only organic aboard the ship.

"Ah, progress." He mumbled to himself, tapping his fingers on the sides of his chair. His adjusted this bio-suit to a new temperature, and affixed his helmeted gaze on the outer glass.

Any moment now...

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Geneviève was no stranger to unprompted, secretive messages. She had received letters of this kind from people ranging from the status of former Mandalore to shady mercenaries, all thinking she needed their hand to get a job done. To be honest, it was not always unappreciated. Sometimes it paid to accept help from even strangers.

Not usually. But, still...

Here she was in her modified corvette, Intangible, about to meet with some Tal'Verda guy she had never heard of before. Now, obviously she was in no mood to just swing by without taking some precautions, so the Prime Minister had her stealth ship's crew punch in emergency hyperspace coordinates should anything go sour here. In her experience, there was never such thing as being overly careful.

The pilot engaged an encrypted comms line with the specified ship Conflagration. That was who they were supposed to meet, according to the message details. Geneviève was very uneasy about this, to be certain. But she had done similar things before, and she was starting to become a little more vigorous in practicing mental techniques. The Jedi were starting to bother her.

"Conflagration, this is Republic vessel Intangible. Requesting beam of predefined code before proceeding." Always good to have things set up in advance.

Geneviève was busy in her quarters, burying her secrets in the back of her mind and locking them up where no Jedi could touch. If her contact was a Force user, they would be terribly disappointed.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

Here it comes.

"Transmitting." Sylvanan quipped into the comm. He punched in the required code, and pushed up from his chair. The security droids took over the intel processes of flying the stealth vessel; Sylvanan had a meeting to see to.

He strode over to the ducking tube of the Conflagaration and waited. If the code was accepted, the Espada would sidle on up to the Minister's vessel, and extend the docking tune.

The Arkanian drew in a deep breath. Another important meeting. Another loose end that might be tied up if he worded his intentions correctly. He went through a quiet breathing excuse use to calm himself: counting the constant ticks of the ship's sub-light reactor. The docking tube slowly slipped open.

"Let's make a show of it."




[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

She threw the tin can after crumpling it up with her fist--though it had not actually been within her physical fist. There was power she could utilize that went unappreciated; unknown by almost everyone. Yet she knew that this power was overappreciated by some. They were not invincible. There was greater power that any sentient could obtain without it, for she practically had done the same. The Force was not a way of life. It was simply a tool for emergencies.

Her comm sounded. "Prime Minister, our contact has given us the correct code and is now preparing to board."

She did not even bother responding, but simply opened her door and swept out into the corridors of her personal corvette, its polished white hallways in deep contrast to its nearly-invisible, matte-black exterior. Her matching white, elongated coat, armorweave pants, and trademark sunhat set her apart as the political figure amidst the rugged and armed military personnel who served as her guardsmen. She would look just like she did in the holos.

The two official Republic Senatorial Guards parted at the docking hatch and allowed Geneviève to open it up herself. One of the guards then stepped into the boarding tube to usher their 'guest' inside the Intangible. The last thing they needed was for some 'martyr' to dash in with a grenade.

"Train the turbolasers on the tube. We're out of here if anything even smells the slightest bit fishy." Hands on hips, she awaited her visitor's arrival.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

Not a moment's hesitation hindered the Arkanian. He strode purposefully through the docking ring, head held high. His hand was clamped to the epaulet of his coat, while the other swayed freely at his side. Miss Lasedri was as striking as she had looked on the holos. Perhaps if he played his cards right, there would be pleasure along with this business.

He followed the neccesary procure ducted that the guard pressed, holding up his arms for a pat down. The Arkanian was unarmed, which was a very odd state to be in for someone of his position.

"Ma'am." He bowed. "My name is Sylvanan, and I've been absolutely dying to meet you." He approached slowly, offering his left hand.

He was clad in a bio-suit, recognizable by the mismatch of regular clothing mixed in with the shining plates of durasteel. The obsidian faceplate that his expression brightened as tad. For a moment, it might have looked as if it were going to become transparent, but it simply stopped.

"You and I, my dear, have very similar views. I would like you to know that you are not the only one."





[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

This was the second visitor who had come calling on one of these increasingly strange rendezvouses with a mask covering his face and an odd vocal pattern. The Prime Minister was almost suspecting of a conspiracy, and that made her all the more on-guard for this encounter. Unlike her previous caller, however, this one seemed to have a formal flair about him.

The first words to escape his mouth were rather unpromising. In fact, it almost seemed as if this crazy goon had perhaps called on her only to ask for an autograph and a few pictures to take home. This meeting was very odd indeed. Not to mention that he assumed he was on the same page as she idealistically. Many considered themselves to be so intuitive, but Geneviève had never shared her deepest motives with anyone. She highly doubted he could possibly be aware of her true plans.

At least he was not a droid. She despised droids.

"That's interesting. It seems like everyone knows my mind these days," Gen scoffed. Even if he did have an idea of her personal views, he would have to prove himself worthwhile by having satisfactory answers without pause. "It has nothing to do with the Opportunity and Optimism Act, does it?"

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

And so began the game. A battle of wits in its purest form; a tug of war won with words rather than physical strength. It was the sort of game that Sylvanan never lost, for if he did, there could be dire consequences. Here, with the jumpy Prime Minister, that was doubly true. He lofted a brow as she brought up one of her more recent acts, and fought the urge to snicker.

As if he cared about the Republic's politics.

"I don't have many cares to give about how you run you government, Miss Lasedri." He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug. "So long as it isn't falling apart anyway, or falling under Jedi control. I doubt you would allow either."

The obsidian faceplate he wore suddenly flashed white, then became transparent. A man of his late twenties stared out at the Prime
Minister. His hair and skin were white as snow, and a mess of stubble lines his chin. Eyes so blue that they were luminescent, even in this light, glowed at her.

"I've come to bring up two things. One, I believe we can do business together, and two, our goals are one in the same, I hope you'll come to understand that in a few moments."







[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Her goals were, quite frankly, nothing sh shared with anyone. And so Gen still considered him to be quite mistaken. Even if he knew of her more externally relevant goals--for the moment, at least--there was still more to her deep inside. No one was going to find those things out until it was past relevancy.

He was right about the Prime Minister's dedication to keeping the Jedi subdued. They had risen to power in prior days of the Republic and caused severe trouble unchecked. But not now. She would see to that. "The Jedi have no place in politics any longer. They are under my authority and I will see to it that they don't overstep the bounds I have laid."

She was afterwards surprised to see his face revealed. It looked pale and sickly; almost uncomfortable to look upon. Still, she held nothing against him on that part. It was probably nothing he could help. What annoyed her was his continuing assumptions about her. "I think it's safe to say you can drop the mysterious act now," she grumbled, brown eyes (one of them fake) needling. "I have no idea what 'business' you're looking for, but if you'd prefer, we can take this conversation to the command room. Though don't believe I trust you in the least." Not yet, anyway.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

A big part of this game was to keep your adversary uncomfortable. Whether that be annoyance, dislike, keeping them flustered or otherwise did not matter. So far as Sylvanan looked at it, he was being quite successful.

Then she offered to take him to the command room. Privacy was necessary with what he had to say, and so he heartily agreed. With a nod of his head, the Arkanian sidled up alongside the Prime Minister, and folded his arms behind his back.

"By all means." He murmured, steadying to follow her wherever she chose.





[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Now, privacy they would have, but there was no way Gen would be without protection. While her minimal Force training could probably prevent any sort of attack this odd man was capable of, there was always that one chance--the one that bothered her. And so she would have guards positioned outside the command room, just in case. Private, but not alone.

The train of her white coat flapped against the backs of her legs as she strode back down the spinal corridor of the ship, a subtle whine audible through the durinium walls of the tunnel. They passed several doors--all shut--before the hall opened up into a circular chamber filled with displays; a holoprojector in the center. Geneviève motioned for her guardsmen to take position in the hallway that wrapped around the command room, and then entered the area without taking a glance at her company.

Halting near the holoprojector, the Prime Minister turned around and folded her arms underneath her breast, an ever-wary look never leaving her eyes. It could be noted to one who had keen eyesight that her right pupil never expanded nor contracted like her left did--the only physical indicator that things about her were not as they seemed. Then again, she was a politician. Most probably suspected some sort of ulterior motive from her. But most had no idea what that could be.

"Go ahead, now." She waited.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

Sylvanan breathed an internal sigh of relief. Finally, some privacy. He followed the Prime Minister with a smile on his face. It would not do to explain his purpose to her whole her guards were around - it was impossible to know who you could trust these days. He came to a halt as they arrived at the holoprojector, and lofted a brow. Time to drop the act.

"Right, let me be serious now." He replied, his voice heavy with purpose. Whatever he had been outside was gone now. Sylvanan was a new beast. "I want to provide you with an army of clones. Clones loyal to you, not the Jedi , and I want to build facilities within your borders."

That all sounded ridiculously pushy. The Republic needed soldiers, but this was certainly not the best way to tackle it. Not that Sylvanan cared.

"You're loosing this war. You don't have enough fit men in the service. I can provide you with thousands, millions." He mused, dropping his arms down to his sides. "But first, the reason why."

A moment's pause.

"I represent a group of people that would see our overlords undone. People from across the galaxy, Empire, Republic, Protectorate, all those who realize this war is a religious squabble between the Jedi and the Sith. All influential people at that. We will see this conflict ended, permanently."

The mask went transparent once more, and the Arkanian was smiling. It was not one of arrogance, or anything similar. It was genuine warmth, perhaps even camaraderie. "We're not the terrorists you see on the holonet. We are a political group that will bring this conflict to an end very soon, and we want to extend an arm out to you, Minister, because we believe you understand the dangers of the Jedi and their compatriots as we do."





[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Clones. That was not something she thought she would ever hear legitimately proposed. Not apart from history books, at least. It was a troubling thing to be laid on the ears of the Prime Minister. This was beginning to smell like something that the Jedi and conservative members of the Republic would be quick to protest. This was not good for her to be associated with, simply put. Luckily, there were no active recording devices aboard her ship, so this absurd suggestion would never leave this room.

"I can't support such a proposal," Gen retorted. Indeed, the idea even encroached upon her own moral bounds. "Not to mention, how can it be guaranteed to me that these... men would be loyal to me? If one person could control them, certainly another could weasel themselves into the equation. Overall, it's a disastrous idea." Who did this guy think he was, smiling so amiably behind that glass helmet?

For a moment, the Prime Minister of the Republic felt as if this Sylvanan was insinuating that she was an 'overlord', until he elaborated on the subject of the true heart of the matter: the Sith and Jedi Orders. "It's true that all of this nastiness gets started by the Sith, and even the Jedi on occasion, but I can't and won't approve of this imperialist approach." It had dawned on her that this man was insinuating she should commit high treason. "Not only that, but I can't afford to eradicate the loyal Jedi Order--not until the Sith threat is gone, to be certain."

Lasedri was almost ready to send her guest away, deeply uncomfortable with the way this conversation was going. "I think you might be better off seeking out someone else who might be interested in your quest to perpetrate a second Palpatine movement." She was already preparing to dispatch watchmen into the Senate's inner workings and clear out anyone who might have seen this man before. She was no Palpatine, but a coup was not something that could happen.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

Short sighted.

"I expected far more foresight from you." He grunted, the displeasure was clear in his tone. It was nothing threatening, more akin to the way one would talk about the loss of a bolo ball game.

Disappointed, but not wholly unhappy.

"The clones are for military purpose to repel the One Sith, as it's rather clear your Jedi are entirely inept at. Second, you are the one insinuating a Jedi purge, or anything of the kind. Your thoughts, your words, not mine. All assumptions."

He'd likely burnt this bridge now, but it wasn't one he needed. He'd had hopes that Lasedri would be receptive, that she might understand how planning worked, but if she couldn't infer that what he spoke of was not for the immediate future, then she was not the quality of person he needed.

The Arkanian stood up straighter. "As for loyalty, inhibitor chips. The clones respond to certain verbal commands, or other commands of your choosing." He turned partway about, toward the door. "I'll be going. Enjoy your further endeavors with the war and...whatnot."

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Had she really blundered? There was nothing she had compromised in her values--nothing that would betray her Republic. Who did this man think he was?

And yet she was disturbed at the realization that he had indeed caught something that would be difficult to reconcile. This Sylvanan had never mentioned a Jedi purge. Why had she assumed that? There was a tinge of guilt that swept over her conscience, and this needed to be remedied immediately.

The Prime Minister swiftl moved after the man before he exited the command room, coat swirling behind her in her draft. "Wait," Gen instructed, voice whispered but firm. "How are you proposing we end this war? Clones... I don't know..." The thought continued to nag at her mind, everything inside her screaming 'no.' Clones were a bad idea centuries before. They were a terrible idea now.

"You understand that we all have moral boundaries that we cannot cross. If we didn't, we'd be Sith." Her brown eyes focused on the face behind the mask, eyebrows setting somewhere between a scowl and a showing of curiosity. "I only have so much power. I can do whatever I want--only until someone inevitably notices and has me removed; perhaps imprisoned for life. But tell me what you need, and I will do what I can do." There was nothing more important to her at the moment than to bring the Sith down on their own scalped skulls.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

It was a gamble playing the walk-off card. It was quite likely that the Prime Minister might just let him walk off, forget this business and go her own way. Yet she had not, and Sylvanan's gamble was won. It was not to say he had influenced her - though he might have a small amount. Miss Lasedri just saw the opportunity he presented, and was smart enough to jump on it. He could not blame her for that - no, he applauded her.

"Ma'am." He began. "Cloning is a controversial issue. So is rolling over to a war machine run by a murder cult." He turned to face her. "I offer you an army. One designed to halt your enemy, and perhaps push back while your Republic gets back on its feet. In return, these men will receive the same rights as all human men, and military benefits. You can spin the story easily enough that way - we'll even let them volunteer rather than forced into it."

He shrugged. "They will, of course, eagerly join. Inhibitor chips and what not. Once the war is over, you can even destroy the chips. They will be free, eager men, we'll just birth them." He cracked the slightest smile, though the Prime Minister would never see it. "We've longed progressed past the archaic days of the clone wars."

Yet, he was not done. "As for ending the war...that would require the expulsion of the force from governmental positions...and if you would wish to discuss that, then I offer a meeting to you with those of a similar mind to myself. Their politics, you will not agree with, but they will end this war, and bring us peace. Seven years is too long for a war of this scale, wouldn't you say?"






[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Geneviève nodded as she analyzed each and every word he uttered, the raven strands of her straight hair bowing against her shoulders. Seven years was indeed too long, but some had grown complacent as time passed and were opposed to anything that smelled of 'new'. "I will do anything to defend my Republic," she responded, hushed but full of conviction. "But sometimes that means defending myself from the inside. I can't approve a clone army, Mister Sylvanan." And that was for more reason than just facing disapproval. Again--the concept of a clone army contradicted her own ideals.

But something needed to change. She needed to win. Was it truly up to her in the end? The miracle of a political victory seven years ago had brought its perks and its restrictions, but it had never made her anyone's friend, no matter the smiles and greetings she received out of false courtesy. "That being said, I won't deny a trial of your clone army you claim to have--though it will have to begin on a much, much smaller scale. Is there any way I could acquire a 'sample' of these clones? A platoon, if you will?"

Lasedri was known for her stubborn, uncompromising stance on nearly every political and physical battlefield. But there were some cases in which compromise was a necessity.

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

His lips pressed into a thin smile. So the Prime Minister was interested then? Good, he would provide for her. He leaned forward slightly, and lofted a brow, though his expression was hidden behind his mask. She wanted a batch of clones? The Arkanian would deliver.

"I can provide you with a sampling...Two hundred men. Commandos. They will do whatever you wish, and free of charge. All I ask, is that you join me for an evening. There are people working on both sides to end this war Prime Minister, and we could use your help."

He was not lying. Gen was crucial to their plans, though things could still continue even if she did not join them. Sylvanan sincerely hoped she would listen though.

"We've eschewed political ties and religious views for one simple purpose. To bring peace to this galaxy, and stop any further religious wars brought about by radicals." He offered a hand. "Won't you at least come to see what we are about?"

[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]

 

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Two hundred men. That was not at all tempting--and quite simple to conceal in comparison to an entire army. No one needed to know. No one would know. Two hundred could not be so bad, right? She may be toeing the line, but she was not crossing it.

"Free of charge? Nothing is free, Mister Sylvanan," Geneviève retorted, though not with her usual minimizing tone. It was simply a fact. "But, since you are offering, I suppose it would be folly to decline." Fingers crossed.

Then came the little catch. She would have to meet with people--from 'both sides', as he put it--if she truly wished to grasp what was being proposed. An end of the wars brought about by the more-or-less religious affairs of the Jedi and the Sith through the cooperation of other parties within both warring nations. The thought of aligning with anyone of the imperial mindset that was layered into the One Sith's agenda nearly disgusted her. She had not started the Rebellion against nothing.

Decisions haunted one later in life. She did not regret the Rebellion. But would she regret this? Probably. But she went ahead anyway. "When and where?"

[member="Sylvanan Tal'verda"]

 

[Placeholder 018]

The Prime Minister would receive two hundred men. Sylvanan would commission two hundred thousand. The hook had been set, and once she had access to loyal soldiers - unquestioning, dedicated warriors, she would want more. They always wanted more.

"The men and women will be loyal. An elite force. A sampling, you could say." He said reassuringly, turning about toward the exit.

"Two weeks, these exact coordinates. I'll be looking forward to it."




[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]