Public Matters of Geonosian Diplomacy | The Restoration of Geonosis

[Xazzex Xivar]

No regard was given for those that disagreed with Drazen and her confrontation, brief as it was. It was another opportunity for the Archduke to weigh the measure of the two parties; to show how different they were from one another. How could it be slander when Xazzex had only spoken the truth?

Xazzex's golden eyes slide back to the Archduke easily as he sought to draw attention back to him once more. She neither smile nor scowled, though her lidless gaze lingered on the man as he seemed disinclined toward her position. It seemed some believed the two Confederacies were one and the same. Part of that was because certain members, such as Vemric Keldra and herself, had belonged to both; yet neither the leadership nor the philosophical focus were the same. If they were then others present would have no doubt needled in on a Dark Lord's shadow over her words, which did not exist in the Confederacy of Wild Space.

That the Archduke then seemed to favor the Sith Order above the rest, with an invitation extended to some separately, did not sit well with the Falleen woman, but neither did she allow herself to bristle. Unlike some, she had been nothing but candid. If that was not enough -- if the Archduke truly thought to trust his future to the Sith -- there was little Xazzex could do to stop him. The Confederacy would have to continue to extend an offer that would benefit them both and hope for the best. Hope that the forges and factories they'd invested in even of late would not end up smoldering ruins before their fleet could arrive -- that history wouldn't repeat itself yet again on the industrious world.

"Archduke," Xazzex's gaze had yet to leave him even as others had spoken, "the Confederacy will continue to conduct business and invest in your world so long as you allow us. Perhaps, in time, we will establish a stronger relationship once more. Toward that end, I will remain, if you permit it, to enjoy your hospitality." The droids had just brought in refreshment, after all, and Xazzex had been missing a wine glass in her hand during these proceedings. There was a language to how one held a glass.

Ukvax the Gilded | Solidor Slane | Drazen Lutris​

 

[Feydrik Munin]

Feydrik couldn't help himself.

He chuckled.
​

"Heh, heh, heh, heh."


He looked down at Mandalore, almost apologetically. Again, he didn't speak to anyone else but the Mandalorians in the room, but perhaps, he did in fact, speak to the Archduke- albeit in a roundabout way. "The Sith- such famously good friends to their allies... their bones make for nice temple decorations, I hear." Another uncomfortably sinister chuckle, Feydrik said with a grin under his helmet. His helmet shifted in the direction of Drazen Lutris . The Sith was frail, skinny, pale and had one eye. Feydrik wanted to break his body, for projecting strength in his words but weakness in his body and actions.

His helmet shifted away, disregarding the Sith as much as he regarded him. Not a moment spared more than what he wanted to, no further thoughts. Feydrik turned to Mandalore, speaking again- never on behalf of the Mandalorians, never speaking over his Sole Ruler, only to him. He was not to speak for anyone other than himself, to the Sole Ruler. Anything else was tantamount to heresy. He lowered his tone, switching to his native tongue.

< "Sole Ruler- perhaps the Archduke should be made assurances by these Sith that they are unlike the others that came before them. They are of course, after all-" > He turned his head, looking at all of the Sith in the room. He said the last word in basic, to allow the conversation to be clear to them.

"Sith."

He said it not with entirely full of venom or malice, but perhaps... a bit of amusement. Perhaps Feydrik didn't care what happened here, and was only interested in the goings-on and to watch his rivals lose. Thus far, the touty, lawdy, uppity Galactic Alliance had shown itself out, along with the do-gooder Foundation, who seemed more concerned with refugees than they were actual, tenable practices. The Geonsians didn't care about refugees, morality, or friendships. They were industrious, they were prideful, they built some of the greatest and most terrifying machines in the galaxy. Asking them to aid in refugees... well, if Feydrik was bored and uncaring of the word, he couldn't picture the Archduke's position in his mind.

Refugee this, friendship that... what a load of bantha poodoo.

 

[Rackham]

M A T T E R S_O F_G E O N O S I A N_D I P L O M A C Y

EMPIRE REBORN
GEONOSIS, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

As the conversation continued, it appeared that the Archduke was leaning more towards the Sith Camp, and naturally some of the other delegations mostly from the Light-Side/Democratic-Aligned Governments along with the Mandalorians voiced their displeasure and concerns with such a decision, still attempting to counter-sway the Archduke to their side although that might only further push them even closer to the Sith. By inviting so many factions most of whom had conflicting interests with one another, the Archduke had turned Geonosis into a powder keg ready to be lit should one faction choose to directly oppose his decision to align Geonosis with the Sith.

While the other delegates would continue engaging in their talks, Rackham took notes on his data pad about every useful bit of information he could gain from this meeting. Even though the Empire was in no position to get directly involved in Geonosis, this whole ordeal could be potentially manipulated to their advantage and perhaps even provide Imperial Intelligence a means to test their capabilities with what limited resources they still had at their disposal. But for the time being they would silently observe from the shadows carefully watching any further developments that may potentially occur after this meeting.

[Tags] | Xazzex Xivar | Drazen Lutris | Jack Wright | Ilri Mel | Ukvax the Gilded | Corin Trenor | Darth Morta | Carduul Akahl | Serina Calis | Whottoomuzz Chantin | Nova Ka | Solidor Slane | Solaina Embarri | Delsin Shaw | Tertius C. Nargath | Phelixia Skirata | Feydrik Munin | Diarch Reign | Nos Voros | Nolan Knightfall ​

 

[Serina Calis]

Matters of Geonosian Diplomacy
Location: Stalgasin Hive, Geonosis.
Objective: Ensure my interests.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Ukvax the Gilded Ilri Mel Solaina Embarri Jack Wright Carduul Akahl Delsin Shaw Nova Ka Darth Morta Solaina Embarri Solidor Slane Corin Trenor Nolan Knightfall Nos Voros Diarch Reign Phelixia Skirata Whottoomuzz Chantin Drazen Lutris Tertius C. Nargath Xazzex Xivar Rackham

"The bloodied history of Geonosis has only just begun. The ancient battles across the sand swept plains will pale in comparison to the havoc I will unleash."​

There it was.

Victory.

A smirk tugged at the edges of Serina's lips as the words left the translator droid, each syllable a confirmation of the inevitable. She had won. The Geonosians, so cautious, so meticulous, so utterly predictable, had done as she expected. They had chosen the Sith Order.

But the game was far from over.

Because victory was never just about winning. It was about ensuring that, when the dust settled, the other players in the game didn't realize they had already lost.

Serina did not rush to respond. No, that was the mistake of the eager, of the short-sighted. Instead, she let silence fill the chamber, let the air grow thick with the weight of finality. She allowed Ukvax's decision to settle, to cement itself in the minds of every other faction present. She let them feel it.

Then, at last, she moved.

Not in haste, not with the bluntness of a warrior's stride, but with the languid, fluid grace of a woman who knew she controlled the room—who knew that every eye, whether in hatred or admiration, was locked onto her.

The glow of her armor shimmered with each step, magenta veins of energy tracing along the contours of her bodice like some living, pulsing force. The deep folds of her hood framed her face, her golden locks spilling like silk over her shoulders. She exuded a presence that was not just power but captivation, the lethal allure of a predator who knew precisely how to make prey walk willingly into her jaws.

She placed her hands on the conference table, the faint clink of her armored gauntlets barely audible over the silent tension in the air. Her piercing blue eyes, filled with wicked amusement, locked onto Ukvax the Gilded.

And then, in a voice that was honeyed velvet wrapped around a blade, she spoke.

"A wise decision, Your Eminence."

A whisper of a purr, a stroke of ego so gentle, so precise, that it felt more like a lover's caress than a political maneuver.

Her gaze did not waver.

"Caution is the shield of the strong, and you, my dear Archduke, have wielded it masterfully today." She tilted her head just so, letting the subtle motion of her lips convey the slightest of knowing smirks. "There are those who think strength is found only in the clash of blades, in the fire of war. But true strength?" Her fingers tapped the table lightly, the sound like the soft ticking of a chrono counting down to inevitability. "True strength is found in those who know how to choose their battles."

She let that statement hang in the air, the implication dripping from her words.

Then, her gaze flicked to the others present, the so-called diplomats from the Republic, the Alliance, the Mandalorians, the Confederacy. She did not sneer, did not gloat. That was the mark of an amateur.

Instead, she merely smiled.

A smile that said: I have already won, and you are only just realizing it.

She straightened, folding her arms behind her back, the magenta glow of her bodice accentuating every sharp, angular detail of her armor.

"To those gathered here today," she continued, her voice carrying the weight of silk and steel, "let us be clear—Geonosis is not some prize to be claimed. It is not some nameless Outer Rim world waiting to be divided like carrion among opportunists."

She turned slowly, her expression calm, composed—indulgent.

"It is a world of builders. A world of visionaries. And it will stand not as a mere pawn in the games of larger powers, but as a sovereign force of industry, of innovation, of unparalleled military and technological advancement."

Her eyes met those of the Republic delegation, of the Confederacy representatives, of the Mandalorians.

"It will not be used by those who see only its output and not its people."

A pause.

Then she let her smile return, soft, suggestive, dripping with amusement.

"Ah—but of course, some of you knew that already, didn't you?"

She turned her attention back to Ukvax, as if this entire room, this entire game, was theirs to orchestrate, and the others were merely playing along.

"Your Eminence, it is not only strength that you have displayed today, but wisdom. And wisdom deserves reward."

She took a slow step forward, lowering her voice, letting it become intimate—as if this next part was meant only for the Archduke, though she ensured everyone heard.

"You asked for loyalty." Her fingers traced the edge of the holotable, slow, deliberate, "And that is what I shall give you."

She turned her chin up, her blue eyes gleaming.

"The foundries will remain under Sith oversight, but in full compliance with the governance of Stalgasin Hive." Her voice carried no hesitation, no room for misinterpretation. "The Archduke shall set the regulations, the oversight, the taxation." A pause. "And in return, the Sith Order shall ensure that Geonosis never again faces the threat of subjugation."

A glance—quick, sharp—toward the Republic and the Alliance delegates.

"By anyone."

She turned back to Ukvax, her expression shifting into something… softer. Calculated sincerity.

"I am not here to take from you, dear Archduke." A breath, slow and deliberate, her voice turning rich, warm. "I am here to ensure that what is yours stays yours."

Then, as if breaking the spell, she let out a soft, amused chuckle, stepping back slightly, hands folded once more behind her.

"I suppose that means we have much to discuss, does it not?"

A knowing smile. A game masterfully played.

Her gaze flicked briefly to Jack Wright as she passed him. A sidelong glance, a smirk teasing at her lips.

And then, just as she brushed past, she leaned in, the words slipping from her lips in a whisper, meant only for him.

"Careful, darling," she murmured, voice laced with wicked amusement, "You're looking at me like you missed me."

She didn't need to see his reaction. She knew it would be delicious.

Then, with that, she took her seat once more, reclining ever so slightly—comfortable, assured, completely in control.

And she waited.

Because the game was not over.

 

[Nova Ka]

TAG: Carduul Akahl Ukvax the Gilded Ilri Mel Solaina Embarri Jack Wright Delsin Shaw Feydrik Munin
Gear: Mantle of Ka, Edge of Oblivion, Star of Thustra

Nova's jaw tensed slightly, but she didn't rise to the bait. No pointed retort, but she has to poke back at the Mandalorian in question. She simply exhaled through her nose and glanced sidelong toward the Mandalorian, a flicker of wry acknowledgment in her eyes—like someone who'd heard this song before.

Rising from the chair, Nova donned her helmet, humming to herself as she moved over to the Mandalorians, letting the armor click with a hiss.

"While I don't speak for Sith doctrine," She said plainly, her voice low but firm. "I do speak for the House of Ka. And unlike some who've worn the name before, we didn't come here to make graves out of allies."

Her gaze shifted back to the Archduke, her words now spoken not as defense, but as clarification—measured and straightforward.

"We came because we see opportunity—real, tangible opportunity. The Unknown Regions are full of what most in this galaxy are too timid or too proud to claim. We have the means to reach it, and we offer what we find to those who stand with us."

She gestured slightly with one hand, a practical, workmanlike motion rather than anything theatrical.

"Call it what you want. But if you're asking what sets us apart from the Sith who came before—it's simple. We didn't come here looking for war. We came looking for opportunities."

Another pause, her tone softening slightly—not warm, but steady and grounded.

"You speak of assurances? Then judge us not by the words of old ghosts—but by the weight of what we're willing to share, and the strength of what we build…perhaps in time, you can rebuild Mandalore, again.”

She left it at that, giving a shrug as she let the facts settle there. Her mother wasn’t there to prod the Mandalorians, so she had to do so in her stead.

 

[Allyson Locke]

//: OPEN //:
//: Ukvax the Gilded //:
//: Geonosis //:
//: Attire //:

The factions' chatter echoed through the chamber, a constant murmur of negotiation and power plays. Everything moved quickly for the planet's leader, but Allyson wasn't in a rush.

She hadn't returned to Geonosis since the final days of the Confederacy when she found herself running with them toward the end of their reign. Now, from the way those who had claimed the carcass of the CIS spoke, it was clear they were still alive and kicking. Their faces were primarily unfamiliar, though she figured they were simply lucky enough never to have crossed her path before.

Thinking of the past was a mistake. It only dragged her back to memories of a failed marriage and a redhead who had once held her heart. Allyson sighed, wondering would things have been different if the woman hadn't forced that ultimatum on her?

Pushing the thought aside, she ran a hand over the leather eyepatch clinging to her face before carefully removing it. The familiar weight disappeared into the pocket of her jacket. The new cybernetic eye whirred softly as it adjusted, syncing with her natural one. It had been a long time since the Corellian had gone without the patch, but oddly, she felt more complete without it.

Her attention returned to the room, and her enhanced vision scanned each face, cataloging details and searching for anything worth noting. Most were unremarkable, either already in her files or people she had encountered before.

Then she saw her. Serina Calis .

Allyson exhaled slowly, a sigh of reluctant recognition. She hoped Serina wouldn't notice her hiding at the back of the room. Their last encounter had been unsettling—Serina's peculiar fascination with her during the Tsis'Kaar meeting had made her skin crawl. And then there had been the way the others had stared when she was introduced, announced by their leader like some spectacle.

A hand covered her face for a moment. Allyson hated feeling seen. Truly seen. At least, for now, it was over. Allyson could retreat back into the shadows where she belonged.

She remained at the periphery, watching and listening. She observed the way each person carried themselves, spoke, and treated the Geonosian leader, reading between the lines. Then something interesting happened.

A voice rose above the political hum. A Selphi, ( Nova Ka ) or someone who appeared to be one, had stepped forward. Allyson's gaze locked onto her; things were about to be interesting. The Mandalorian ( Feydrik Munin ) had thrown down the gauntlet, and the Selphi had picked it up without hesitation. The words were sharp and full of undeniable truths the warrior clans likely didn't want to hear.

Allyson smirked as she crossed her arms. Things were getting interesting, and she was happy she had decided to return to Geonosis.

 

[Ilri Mel]

It was clear where the winds were sailing, in this barren wasteland of production and conflict.

Ilri sighed, realizing no headway would be made today, even with her call for cooperation. The Kiffar hoped she could stall, but it delayed the inevitable. History was doomed to repeat, it seems.

Nevertheless, it was his world. And if the leader thought it was best for his people, however misplaced the faith may be... They couldn't intervene.

For now.

Rising up from her chair, Ilri remarked with diplomatic smoothness, "We will respect your decisions, Archduke. I only ask you know the Galactic Alliance will be ready to aid whenever, wherever. I hope this will not be the last time we speak in this lifetime."

Side-eyeing Solaina Embarri, waiting to see if the Nubian Senator would join them in departure, or stay to try and improve relations more effectively than she can, at the present time.

 

[Feydrik Munin]

(you get a post before I go for this it was too good before my LOA)
​

He looked over at Mandalore, seemingly for approval. No objection was raised, at least, not verbally yet. Feydrik chuckled again.

Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh.


He held his tongue, stepping back- only to stand closer to his Mandalore. Not out of fear, no, out of respect- any step forward further towards the Sole Ruler, and he would take her very existence, not just her words, as a threat. Feydrik was more than capable of handling the woman- after all, he had killed Jedi bare-handed. Despite her size, he was a fast, lethal machine. He had no fear of the Sith- nor anyone in the room. Especially, being unarmed. Out of all the people in the room, it was perhaps Feydrik who was the most dangerous unarmed. He could kick with well over four-thousand pounds of force, and punch with almost three thousand. In under a second, he could deliver well over six thousand pounds of kinetic force to his opponent.

So he had no need to get upset, to get angry, to respond with anything other than a slight. He couldn't help himself.

"Ah yes, the famously successful and wonderfully united Sith... Which Sith Empire or Kingdom do you come from?"

Another chuckle.

Heh, heh, heh, heh, heh.

 

[Delsin Shaw]

The proceedings were rather... quick. Talk back and forth of which galactic power would be the ones to work with the Geonosians. Large words, grand speeches of power and how power is not from conflict but choosing which battles to fight and which to not. Even as the other came over to me and placed a hand on my shoulder, I shifted myself. Letting his arm drop off of me and gave him a stare.

The Sith were a cult of power and dominance. People who saw themselves as a Religious Right way to do things. It was interesting that they believed this was a victory. To have the Geonosians side with them instead of some other power. A roll of the eyes and release of any kind of attachment to them. Responding to the question of the Brother.

"Killing them does us no good. Rein your chariot or you will over extend yourself."

A smile playing on my face and spoken through teeth so that others would not hear me. Killing all the others here would not benefit us. We would be exposing our Sabak hand to other players before the score was taken. My eyes then looked to his. Not caring of his nepotism to get him where he is.

"Speaking of such only gives others knowledge and power. Keep your words on the speeches and not in the back rooms."

Drazen Lutris Serina Calis Nova Ka Darth Morta Ukvax the Gilded

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Geonosis
Stalgasin Hive
Tags: Ukvax the Gilded , Ilri Mel , Solaina Embarri , Jack Wright | @Everyone Else

His gaze had briefly met the man who nodded towards him, Tertius C. Nargath . He knew not who he was, but there was a mere tilt of his head in curiosity. It was difficult to say if the gesture confused him, or was appreciated somewhere amidst that. Again, his gaze turned upon the next mention from the representative of the Confederacy, Xazzex Xivar . “Stranger alliances have been made.” Was a curt statement. Many Mandalorians had taken shelter with its previous incarnation in the past, as mercenaries. Perhaps not the most glorious work, but something that allowed that few more to survive, nonetheless. It may be that agreement with them was not the most outlandish thing for the Mand’alor.

Carduul had taken stock of what was said. A decision had been made rather swiftly, it seemed. A laugh came from Feydrik Munin —perhaps at the mere notion of thinking to enter a ‘partnership’ with the Sith. He would’ve shared in the laugh, had it not been a genuinely unfortunate sight. Such genius, such drive, wasted. He had allowed it for some time, if only because he too found the reactions amusing. A hand raised to silence further incense.

Words spoke in response to the other; <“The decision is made. I will not grovel for them to change their mind. They will understand their mistake in time, when the Sith turn unto them once more.”> How rarely he spoke his own native tongue. Modernization meant it so often was forgone for the sake of efficiency.

Gaze briefly tilted towards Nova Ka , her words only eliciting a stare, and a soft hum in return. Not anger, outrage, or a snide comment in return; but rather curiosity. “In conflict we are reforged anew.” A hand gestured towards her. “Here we are, again. Different people, whom never even met—yet old wounds lie all the same. Strange, that yours seem as deep as ours.” Never fading. Never fully. Connected, despite the disparity in person and time. A perpetuation of an endless cycle. That was as much of a fact as the suffering Mandalore had endured. It would continue to endure. He left the peculiar words at that.

Gaze tilted towards Ukvax the Gilded . The Crusade’s policy was simple. If you worked with their enemies, then you were as good as one. They had made that clear with the Imperials of the Dark Empire already. Why draw an exception now?

“Very well. The choice is made, then. Our doors remain open, should you realize the folly of a relationship with parasites, Archduke. The Mandalorian people seek to provide strength back to the Galaxy, so that all might one day defend themselves from any threat. Thus, I caution thee to the noose that will inevitably be wrapped around thy neck, for it has been before with your predecessors.”

There were no threats from him. He didn't need them. All he stated were mere facts from his purview; the Sith did nothing but siphon power and resources for themselves, to continually ensure they stayed at the top. It was their nature. Their way. He had no use for an Archduke who did not consider such things. For their own sake, he could only pray to the Manda that the Geonosian people would not be too far gone the day they may yet arrive to excise the blight. Even the Confederacy would be a better result.

Alas, the fate of Geonosis had been decided in but a few mere minutes.

 

[Drazen Lutris]

Drazen rolled his eyes. Eye, rather. He squeezed Delsin Shaw 's shoulder again despite him squirming away, then let the boy escape his uncomfortable touch. He 'tsk-tsk-tsk'ed him for a moment, as though chiding him with the noise of sucking teeth, then offered him a low, disappointed tone;

"Knowledge it gives them, it tells them what I'm going to do to them. Power, however, comes from the hand.", he said, squeezing his hand into a fist.

"The Jedi, the Imperials, the Confederacy, the Mandalorians: each of them have some grand ambition here, but none of them have any doubts of our intentions. We are creatures of habit, and habits demand we kill - that is simply the nature of a predator, and the Sith are as apex as they come. Don't be so juvenile, murder is as good a negotiation tactic as any other."

He offered that same, toothy, over-confident grin, then walked away to harass some geonosian wine tender for another glass.

 

[Ukvax the Gilded]

Ukvax the Gilded Ilri Mel Jack Wright Solaina Embarri Carduul Akahl Delsin Shaw Nova Ka Serina Calis Drazen Lutris Phelixia Skirata Xazzex Xivar Feydrik Munin​

Corin Trenor Solidor Slane Darth Morta Rackham Whottoomuzz Chantin Nos Voros Nolan Knightfall Allyson Locke

It is finalized, then. Perhaps there could have been a lasting interest, but with the combination of the Sith's proposals, and the other factions, the Geonosian Archduke knew where the winning hand laid. It did not matter if the Confederacy promised support (though he agreed to accept the Hutts' offer, as evidenced by a datapad being slyly slipped to him), or if the Galactic Alliance, or if others desired it. The Geonosian Archduke knew the Sith Order was winning. Better to stand with the Merdeth at your side, than the promise of democratization and freedom for his drones that would only further unnerve and unsettle the Geonosian apparatus of industry as a whole. He could not afford this.

So, with that, the Archduke settled, nodding to the Mandalorians (though not before slyly disclosing the location of a Mandalorian fortress long-abandoned on the planet's own barren lands via datapad), and then with it, turned to address the room. Mandibles, both sets, clicked out in concerted effort.

[GEONOSIAN]: "Krrrrrrrot, wrr'heyuek-sokeye. Vrrrrrti ma-he-geyh."

The protocol droid turned to face the others, and with it, clarified its words onward.

[BASIC]: "His Eminence, Archduke Ukvax of the Stalgasin Hive, thanks you for all of your time. He has agreed to allow lodging, if desired, for as long as business is desired to be conducted. Likewise, there will be consideration of other offers beyond the Sith's own proposals; the others may feel free to supply delegations as needed. However... The Sith delegation is asked to stay, in order to speak on more pressing issues."

With that, the Geonosian Archduke nodded, and the others, beyond the Sith Delegation, would presumably be fanned out of the room. Any planted listening devices are swept for and destroyed, as the cane clacked, and he responded.

[GEONOSIAN]: "Mrrrrrk whe'ha-yeuk. M'geka ko-ke-ak."

The protocol droid nodded, before the Archduke returned to thought. The droid spoke on.

[BASIC]: "His Eminence agrees to the deals proposed by the blonde-haired Sith, as more thorough discussions can be had in regards to the matter of Sith Order involvement upon the world now. Likewise, the Sith known as Darth Morta is allowed to supply Geonosian laborers and scientists once the civil war is thoroughly managed, as well as architects and industrial overseers, to help construct her planned industries and shipyards. Ideally, the Archduke, His Eminence, believes the best way of managerial oversight is to allow Sith observers to participate with Stalgasin overseers on these worlds. There will be many Geonosians displaced, and not enough room to hold them when the world begins reconstruction. Likewise, we believe that a meeting of the Archduke and the Emperor will prove most ideal."

A nod given by the Archduke, as the droid continued to translate.

[BASIC]: "Finally, we believe the Foundation, as well as other powers within this sector of the Outer Rim's Slice, are planning or plotting to secure Geonosis. We request the Sith Order formally consider proposals to secure Geonosis - and quickly, in order to ensure ease of access to our wares. We do not believe the other powers will actually intervene in the civil war beyond to rescue non-Genosians. Thus, we are turning to you for military support, as well as aid. Stalgasin Hive's hold is tenuous, and a collapse of our rule means the planet falls to Gehenbar Hive; a situation none of us desire. With that said... any further questions?"

The Archduke patiently awaited their words, careful to ensure he did not agitate them. Not enough to soil the plotted deals, of course...

 

[Serina Calis]

Matters of Geonosian Diplomacy
Location: Stalgasin Hive, Geonosis.
Objective: Ensure my interests.
Allies: ???
Opposing Force: ???
Tags: Ukvax the Gilded Ilri Mel Solaina Embarri Jack Wright Carduul Akahl Delsin Shaw Nova Ka Darth Morta Solaina Embarri Solidor Slane Corin Trenor Nolan Knightfall Nos Voros Diarch Reign Phelixia Skirata Whottoomuzz Chantin Drazen Lutris Tertius C. Nargath Xazzex Xivar Rackham Allyson Locke

"The bloodied history of Geonosis has only just begun. The ancient battles across the sand swept plains will pale in comparison to the havoc I will unleash."​

There was a thrill in winning, but there was an art to it as well.

Serina did not rush to claim her triumph, nor did she erupt into celebration. That would be vulgar, crude, beneath her. No, she savored the moment, let it unfurl with the slow, inevitable grace of a predator tightening its coils. She let silence stretch in the chamber, drinking in the lingering weight of the Archduke's final decree. The Sith Order had won.

But more importantly—she had won.

Her blue eyes swept the chamber, drinking in every detail like a connoisseur sampling the finest wine. The way the Confederacy's delegates sat in calculating stillness, the flicker of annoyance in the Republic senator's expression, the barely contained restraint of the Mandalorians, and the impassive and defeated Alliance delegation.

And so she smiled.

Not wide, not triumphant. No, it was a small, secret thing—something that curled at the corner of her lips, a whisper of amusement, of satisfaction. A smile that said, Ah, but you already knew how this would end, didn't you?

Then, she stood.

The glow of her magenta armor shimmered with the movement, the runic etchings across her bodice pulsing softly like a heartbeat. The deep folds of her cape flowed behind her, its inner lining catching the dim light, hues of pink and violet casting flickering patterns across the chamber walls. The weight of her presence was undeniable—she was poised, exquisite, a woman who was both the artist and the blade, the seduction and the executioner.

And now, the room belonged to her.

"Ah," she sighed, "It is so very refreshing to do business with a man who understands the realities of power."

Her voice was rich, velvet and silk spun with just a hint of wicked amusement. She tilted her head slightly, her golden locks spilling like molten fire over her armored shoulders.

Her gaze flickered to the Alliance delegation first.

"Democracy is such a charming notion, isn't it? So full of optimism, so full of… belief in the righteousness of governance by the many." She let the words drawl just slightly, as if she found the entire concept quaint. "But here, in the Outer Rim, we know a different truth, don't we?" She tapped her fingers lightly against the table, letting the sound echo. "Power is not given. It is taken. And only those who understand this… only those willing to act… survive."

Her eyes flicked to the Mandalorians next, her smirk deepening.

"Ah, and my dear warriors. You of all people should understand this better than anyone." A slight chuckle, indulgent. "After all, you have carved your place in the stars not through honeyed words or promises of fairness, but through the simple, brutal arithmetic of strength."

Then, with deliberate slowness, she let her gaze settle on Xazzex Xivar and the Confederacy delegation.

"And yet," she mused, tilting her head slightly, "some still cling to the past." A beat, just enough for the weight of her words to sink in. "The Confederacy once stood as a bastion of independence, of strength, of a vision so very different from the weak-willed governments of the Core, however..." A pause, her voice dipping into something softer, almost disappointed. "Do you wish to know the fate of the Confederacy?"

"Look out the window."

Her smirk returned, a blade wrapped in silk, her arm pointed to the ruins that stretched along the planet, the markers of a Confederacy which no longer exists.

"The past is a lovely thing, really. It makes for such beautiful stories." A dismissive wave of her fingers. "But stories do not build empires. Stories do not bring order. Stories do not win wars."

She let those words hang in the air before she turned her full attention back to Ukvax the Gilded .

"But you, Your Eminence."

She took a slow, deliberate step forward, her hands clasping lightly in front of her.

"You have chosen the future."

A breath. A smirk. A promise.

"And you have chosen well."

She allowed the weight of that to sink in, let the others feel it.

Then, she swept her gaze across the room once more, as if addressing all of them.

"Make no mistake," she purred, "this is not just a victory for the Sith Order. This is a victory for Geonosis."

Another pause.

Then, in a voice laced with the softest venom, she let the final dagger slide between the ribs.

"And for those who would have seen it otherwise… well."

A smirk.

"Perhaps next time, you will play the game a little better."

Then, with that, she turned, moving toward her seat once more, reclining ever so slightly, exuding the very image of victory wrapped in elegance.

And she waited.

Because she knew.

They all knew.

This was Serina Calis' victory.

In just a few minutes, she had decided the fates of billions of lives.

And the galaxy had just karking watched, unable to stop her.

 

[Feydrik Munin]

​

Feydrik chuckled again as the Mandalorians began to take their leave. The Sith Order would have Geonsosis- until they all stabbed each other in the back, or found themselves at the barrel of the Alliance's gun. They were defeated- they, being the Dark Jedi types as a whole, at Tython, Coruscant, major, massive losses. And even at Mandalore. Despite the meddling of lesser Mando'ade like the New Mandalorians.

Feydrik, realizing that the Anointed said his piece, felt more free to speak. He looked over at the Archduke, chuckling, then laughing as the Sith carried on her monologue. In fact, he laughed through the entire thing as Serina Calis went on her whole lengthy diatribe.

"You belong on a stage, Sith." Feydrik shook his head, trying to shake the tears under his helmet from laughing so thoroughly at her speech. He didn't believe a word of it, of course. Sith were liars, and they were prone to infighting, murder, death, and the too-often defeat by the light-side users. Mandalorians survived, persisted, and terrorized. People trembled at even the thought of the Crusaders now, much less when the skies darkened with their ships and drop pods.

He turned to look at the Archduke, letting out a long, heavy breath to steel himself from laughing further.

"The Death Star builders. The great weapon that shaped the galaxy even today- what happened to your kin that the Sith asked to build and design it?" He laughed again, turning to stand beside Mandalore as he took leave. He was also laughing because this grandstanding speech came from a woman that was roughly half his size and weighed about half as much. He'd seen Mandalorian cafeteria workers more physically imposing than her, and the fact that she gave lengthy speeches when she was barely taller than the table she stood up from.

Her over-inflated viewpoint of herself was pure comedy to Feydrik.