Private Parley

[Visanj T'shkali]

P A R L E Y

Who: Alkor Centaris , Visanj T'shkali
Where: Visanj's Office - Ministry of Science Headquarters Facilities, Golbah City, Geonosis

​

Visanj stood there, looking over the preparations for the coming sit-down with the newly-minted Exarch of the Confederacy, Alkor Centaris. She’d last seen the man addressing the Confederate Viceroyalty, sitting there on the dais, legs swinging over the edge, toying with them like a Loth-Cat with its dinner. The Exarch, she surmised, was not one to stand on formality, nor on pretentiousness. This was not the time to attempt to dazzle him with Bantha fodder. The Confederacy First declaration had sent ripples throughout the galaxy. Closed borders and tariffs have an unmistakable way of putting people off. The looming threat of sanctions and trade wars would precipitate increasing tensions in all corners of Sky River. For people back home, those tensions were palpable. Dagata System makes its living on the export of resources, everything from tibanna to ore, and it relied on trade for luxury goods and other items that drove its marketplaces. Visanj missed home. Right now, she thought, the flowers would be blooming and the white blossoms of the fruit trees would be blowing throughout the city. She loved that time of year, the rains washing away the old year, people beginning to fill the outdoor markets. This year, they were worried. Not to mention the hundreds of messages her Blood Captains had sent. The closed borders and restrictions on through-travel would make life harder for smugglers and pirates, and while for most that meant the fringe, for Dagatans that meant friends and family.

She’d opted to wear a tweed three-piece suit, something classic with a nice splash of color – patriotic purple [x], with a pair of heeled calf-high leather boots, and had her styled back into a ponytail. Casual, traditional, and professional. Exactly like me, she thought, smiling at her own joke. Visanj had taken the liberty of ordering a light lunch for the two of them from the restaurant downstairs. Naos Sharptooth, smoked, with Byss and Neonan Red Cheese, served with crackers, and assortment of berries and fruits, and of course, a fully-stocked bar. The lighting was good, incense softly burning, and all things seemed set.

If this Exarch was willing to talk, then Visanj would take the opportunity. Dagata had fought with the Confederacy, traded with them, and their Baroness was the Confederacy’s Minister of Science, and that should count for something. Yet, Dagata was not part of the Confederacy. Rather, it was a truly independent system. It wouldn’t hoist the purple banner, certainly not after almost nine centuries of living, fighting, and dying beneath a black one. Still, there was much between them to found a friendship on. She had to make him see that. Vis had worked too long, too hard, to bring Dagata back into its rightful place in the galaxy, and she was not going to stop now.

“Kark, I need a drink.”

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The actions of one Visanj T'shakali had not gone unnoticed by Darth Metus.

Her extensive legend- as some of the more vocal Confederate enthusiasts called it- regaled the Defense Force outposts and charged the efforts on the front lines following Tanaab. Her elevation to the position of Minister won the Vicelord widespread approval; but to hear about Confederacy First sent ripples through space.

Dagata was remote, further away and near the Outer Planets' Alliance rather than the Confederate border. Alkor and Isley spoke at length about the situation, and finally, with some concessions and authorizations agreed upon, the Dark Jedi moved toward the Ministry with a plan.

He had not met the Baroness. Alkor was a creature of the Confederacy that moved mostly in shadow, even now that he stood in the spotlight. Where he did go, he did it methodically and with purpose- lest he could have left it to Exarch Talon, or Exarch Locke.

Alkor entered the room with a finely tailored top and a pair of pleated, black trousers. His gaze found T'shakali immediately, and he wasted no time greeting her. "Minister, it is a pleasure to finally meet you. I've heard so many fascinating things."

He extended his hand as the gap between them closed. Admittedly, he'd heard the few words that escaped her before he entered, and Alkor could honestly say he shared the sentiment. The bar was an excellent touch.

"Shall I pour us a drink?" he invited. After all, alcohol was one of the few languages of the Galaxy that the Jen'jidai spoke fluently.

Visanj T'shkali

 

[Visanj T'shkali]

P A R L E Y​

Vis had heard the Exarch enter and turned to meet him. A firm but sincere handshake, a good beginning. Vis sighed in relief when the Exarch turned his attentions to the bar and grinned.

“Yes, please. Whyren’s. Six fingers. Neat. Thank you.”

She motioned to the table.

“I took the liberty of ordering us a light lunch. I hope it’s satisfactory, and please, if it is not let me know. I’ve placed the chef downstairs on ready alert if you desire something else.”

Visanj took a seat at the table, and allowed herself to relax some. She waited for the Exarch to make his drink, and hers, and then began again.

“Exarch, I am honored you have agreed to meet with us today. I say ‘us’ because this day, I speak to you not as the Minister of Science, nor even as a citizen of our Confederacy, but as Dagata, as all Dagatans, and in my place as its Baroness. We wish to extend our most heartfelt gratitude and appreciation for the burgeoning friendship between our peoples, and our wish that it should continue. However, the recent actions of the Confederacy have alarmed many of us. Closed borders, trade tariffs, these things are signals, and it is those signals that we should discuss.”

Visanj raised her eyes to meet the Exarch’s own, allowing a pregnant pause to intervene before going on.

“I’ll dispense with formality, Alkor. This is not the hour for pretense, Dagata has always made its living through trade, and frankly, those trades have not always been approved by law in every circumstance. Piracy, smuggling, as well as legitimate spacing and commerce, these are the life’s blood of my people. Since I have come to the Confederacy, you have seen that not a single ship in Confederate space has been touched, nor a single Confederate ship has been attacked anywhere else. You have my assurance this will continue. Further, what smuggling has been done has been has never included slaves, and I believe you know our stance regarding that vile practice. Most of the galaxy, I should think, are aware of the justice that will be felt by those who continue it. So I am not talking to you about permission to practice our…less conventional enterprises…as for the Confederacy, these things are not in its concern. But Dagata trades, it is a port of call for merchants, traders, and spacers of every stripe and a nexus from which trade throughout the Outer Rim permeates. That is the agenda for our negotiations now.”

Visanj again looked into the Exarch’s eyes, grinning wryly again, “How’s that drink coming?”

Alkor Centaris

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor moved to the counter and pried open the cabinet, eyes already on the Whyren's. Between the exorbitant wealth of the Confederacy and what Dagata alone brought to the table, it was a small wonder that he spied a bottle of NN183 ready and waiting to pour. "Outside of the Confederacy, I'll speak candidly and say how Dagata conducts its affairs are none of our concern. That's the beauty of Confederacy First. Anything you did before, we looked the other way on- that's doubly true now. As for within the borders..."

He gripped the base of the glass between two fingers as the cork came free, and eyed the Whyren's as it matched level with where his finger stopped. He continued to pour until he had matched that amount five more times, and the glass was just over half full.

"Dagata's position and relations with the Confederacy are unique. While the defunct Galactic Alliance, the former Outer Rim Coalition, and the Silver Jedi Order reaped the benefits of our protection pact and did very little actual legwork to repay the kindness, Dagata never asked Geonosis to lift a finger on their behalf. Your people have bled for the Vicelord, and Isley Verd remembers his friends."

He spoke the true name of the Darth because Alkor knew more of Darth Metus than many, if not almost all of the Confederacy. "Where the world is concerned, it neither wants to be part of the Confederacy nor has been asked. They enjoy their isolation, and we are content to leave them to it for as long as that remains the case. However, we do not want to lose their support where it has previously existed. You are free to tell your people what the move is. And by my understanding, they will relate to it very endearingly."

He had taken the time to prime himself on Dagata and its somewhat bleak history before the meeting so that he could understand where Visanj was coming from. Her people were a solitary kind that existed within the Galaxy, but away from it at the same time. They were distrustful of outsiders, and with good reason. In much the same way that the former friends of the Confederacy had abused its self-sacrificing nature, Dagatans had been spurned nearly a millennia ago by Mon Mothma.

"It was our decision that the Confederacy knows what is best for itself. The rest of the Galaxy can conduct themselves however they like, but we will not cut ourselves open and bleed anymore for anyone who is not one of us. This is a sentiment I know your people understand. They have for centuries lived with that same reticence about the rest of the Galaxy, no?"

He offered the glass to Visanj and corked off the exquisite bottle from the homeworld he never spoke of. Alkor instead reached for a bottle of ale, simpler, and removed the cap.

"These tariffs exist to tell the rest of the Galaxy what they have lost, and to make them feel it. In time, they will loosen and go limp once more, as we find a healthy diplomacy and internal equilibrium that was stolen from us. But, these things do not effect our friends. Dagata is a friend to the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Perhaps the sole friend we have left beyond our own borders."

He took a sip of his own drink.

"I spoke with the Vicelord prior to coming here, and I am prepared to put that in writing for you."

Visanj T'shkali

 

[Visanj T'shkali]

P A R L E Y​

“The Vicelord is wise to remember those friends he has, particularly when he has so few at the moment. If this policy is, as you say, meant to bring the galaxy to the bargaining table to negotiate better terms, it’s a bold and risky move. I applaud the audacity.”

Vis took the drink, savoring the smoky, peaty aroma before taking a sip and letting the warm dull burn of the liquid coat her throat before she went on.

“Very nice, thank you. You are correct, the slap in the face we felt at the Jak – the Battle of Jakku – is a sting still felt, and no less bitter than the slap my ancestor gave to the coward Skywalker or the words spoken to the traitor Mon Mothma. Dagata has never forgotten it, and it never will. Even today, just the mere mention of that queen’s name will raise the blood of my people. I see you have done your research, Alkor. I am impressed, Dagatan history is not exactly a featured course at the galaxy’s universities.”

“As for tariffs, they are like promises. Ideals put into words. But how those words are read by others is what makes them real. I suspect, the words meant and the words read are not the same here. The Confederacy stands central in a galaxy of powers, each with their own purposes and aims. It is not a difficult thing to see that those aims may turn towards Confederate interests. The recent protests by the Spacing Guild are simply the cries of those who failed to read and listen. What you have done does not silence trade, nor even attempt to stifle it. Pulling your troops and ships back into your space is prudent. Policing the travel through your space is as well. Nothing has changed, save for the creation of layers of red tape. Nothing except perception that is. Nothing upsets a thief more than a lock, because locks imply the victim no longer trusts the thief. The Vicelord has made clear that this is precisely his position. I suspect the thieves are aghast.” She chuckled softly, taking another drink.

“You are right to point out that Dagata has never been a thief,” she paused then smiled, “at least... we have been honest about our thievery.” She smiled again, placing the glass on the table before her. “As for our independence, that has never been in doubt. It will either remain so, or else we shall all be dead. It’s a policy which narrows the options of those with designs against us.”

She breathed deeply, exhaling slowly and never taking her gaze from the Exarch’s eyes.

“I don’t need your assurances in writing, or those of Isley Verd. Words spoken, even words written, are still only words. Just what exactly is that you propose? Show me the actions on which our two nations’ bond may be built.”

The Exarch was too quick to offer an assurance on paper. He wanted something…more. The Confederacy had an agenda here beyond a mere reiteration of friendship and promises to uninterrupted trade. Visanj wanted to hear that offer. She smiled and waited for the Exarch’s reply.

Alkor Centaris