Ruminations of a Jedi Knight (Darth Mephirium).

[WolfMortum]

[member="Darth Mephirium"]​

​

It felt like an age since the name Cyrill Grayson had crossed paths with Veiere Arenais; they last served during the battle of Gyndine in which they had been seeking to reestablish the ways of the former Jedi traditions that served to aid alongside the people of the now broken governing body. Commenor had been where his path had led the Jedi Knight, alongside that of [member="Lady Kay"], they had sought to find a middle ground using the trade world as the center-piece in what would hopefully keep the many encroaching powers that were, communicating through civility and neutral ground where hostilities might be avoided. This was a task by no means easy yet they had earned themselves many friends, many contacts and many avenues of intelligence, one in which had passed on the name of an old friend and former member of the Jedi Order to Veiere.

The Vegabond drifted in deep space, Veiere standing within the cockpit while Cillian the younger male handled the controls somewhat anxiously, uncertain of why exactly they had exited a jump before reaching Commenori borders. Turning in the pilots seat, the youth of his young twenties turned to look in shock as he watched the Jedi move towards the communications hub and begin to adjust the frequency clearly seeking to hail someone. "Do you know what you're doing, Master..." He asked, knowing full well how frustrated technology made Veiere, not having the technical know-how that Cillian had. "I'm sending a broad range message hoping to gain the attention of an old friend, Cillian relax. Cemmenori Intelligence contacted me, someone I fought alongside in the battle of Gyndine seems to have turned up again and I'm not honestly certain as to why...-I'd thought that he had seen the last of these parts following the collapse of the Jedi of the Republic...-He also had ties deep in the Sith Empire" his voice quietened a moment, turning briefly to gauge the look on the younger pilots face as Cillian seemed to finally understand why they were meeting out in the middle of nowhere as opposed to Commenor itself; "You're worried, aren't you?" the lad questioned hesitantly, to which Veiere replied fairly dismissively; "He's an old friend with a complicated history behind him, no different than many of us. I have nothing to fear from him; I only wish to see that we meet on neutral ground. There are other concerns than my friend here while Kay has the Hutt Cartel trying to extort and marr her position as Lady President".

"If you say so, Master Jedi...".

 

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Of all the people in the galaxy, Mephirium had expected contact from Veiere the least. The Jedi Knight had proven to be a valuable ally, and more importantly, a good friend. Together, they had fought at Gyndine and attempted to save the flagging Republic. That had, of course, failed tremendously, but Mephirium had walked away with with a profit. A number of the Republic's military personnel had gone along with him, and they now made up the bulk of Mephirium's supporters. He had made little attempt to hide what he had been doing in core; a small numbers of politicians, businessmen, and even force sensitives had pledged themselves to the cause. It was only natural that Commenor hear of it eventually, but the reply to his interdictions could not have been any different from what Mephirium had come to expect.

From what he knew of Veiere, and he felt that he knew the Jedi well, he knew the man was a staunch follower of the light. Mephirium had since learned not to refer to the ethereal realm as such rudientary terms, for to limit its expanse to the simple titles of light and dark was to do it a disservice. Even still, the description hung in the back of his mind, even as he hurried to meet his old friend's summons.

Would Veiere agree with his logic? The Essonian could only hope so. Veiere had always been as expansive in mind as he was dutiful in his cause. If he could convince his old ally that his way was correct...well, Mephirium doubted there would be a force in the galaxy that could stop their combined might.

He translated to real space shortly after the transmission had been sent. The vessel he traveled upon was a sleek, arrow-shaped amalgamation of a shade black as the void itself. A simple code of confirmation was sent, to the Vegabond, and the vessel began to move into position to extend a docking tube.

"Hello count," Mephirium chuckled through the local comm, "May I come aboard?"

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

"Count?" Cillian turned to glance back over his shoulder to the Jedi Knight once more, this time a little curious and possibly not sure whether or not he should even ask, by the expression he held, there remained a sort of reluctant amusement for the title. Unfortunately, [member="Darth Mephirium"] hadn't forgotten their last venture together in search for one of the lost Jedi Holocron during the slow descent of the Galactic Republic; "It's a long story..." Veiere paused to reply under his breath, his gaze dropping a moment in the moment of nostalgia that he really didn't need. Cyril's people had tracked down the artifact on the home-world of some old count and former Sith Lord, his plan had of course been to swoon in on one of the relatives and naturally he had pegged Veiere to be the suitor.

While the Vegabond was little larger than the span of a light freighter turned private yacht, it held no armaments nor offensive capabilities in the least. The Vessel that would be recognized as a diplomatic ship registered under Commenor identification codes had likely not slipped his old friends notice; Veiere had half expected however to be invited once more aboard the Chimera rather than share the much smaller and less intimidating space of his own vessel; despite how comfortable Veiere was aboard the smaller craft. There was no need to relay a response, the Vegabond began to move with Cillian's hands at the controls to intercept and dock with the Dropship offering Cyril the courtesy of acceptance without a second thought. Already as the doors locked and sealed with a mechanical hiss, the Jedi Knight moved to leave the Cockpit cabin and the youth in his seat, moving in stride still baring the now worn garments of the traditional Order as he sought to meet the former Jedi Master at the Airlock.

Though somewhat anxious to understand Master Grayson's activities of late, Veiere remained warmed to the fact that they would have the opportunity to catch up on old times after such a length. Truly it felt like a different life since they had entered that damnable warzone aboard the flagship formerly of the Imperial Order; it had been an experience of it's own kind to witness the potential devastation such a vessel could unleash upon those wishing to do it and its people harm; such a craft that the Empire of old had been all too well known for creating. He wondered what had become of the Battalions of StormTroopers that seemed to serve under the old Jedi Master and had often questioned how a Master of the Jedi Order had gained such a following, yet Cyril had claimed to have quelled the old Sith Empire from the inside, infiltrating and creating a farce in order to separate loyalties and deter progress; this of course too could have been true for the Jedi Order that failed to come together in the final moments of the Republic. A possibility still very real though not one that the Jedi Knight wished to believe of his former ally.

 

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It was nice to get away from the Chimaera from time to time. She was an impressive beast, but her usual population could be stifling at times. Besides, it was better he speak to Veiere without anything to tip the Jedi Knight off as to his recent activities. Without explanation, the wolf would most certainly seek to incriminate him; Cyril did not have the patience nor the desire to allow such a rift to form between the two of them without explaining his purpose first. Veiere had always been an intelligent man, and Mephirium was confident he could make him understand.

He had absconded his more traditional cloak and armor for a simple black hooded jacket and combat boots. His lightsaber was left aboard the dropship, as there would be no need for it aboard the Vegabond. His trust in Veiere made it near impossible for him top consider the possibility that the Jedi Knight might take to his words violently.

He wore a warm smile as he crossed the umbilical into the Vegabond. Cyril looked akin to how he always had -- his features were sharp and young, though lined at the eyes as the creep of age began to effect him. His hair was still a short black mop, and his beard was kept cropped and well trimmed close to his chin.

"Veiere," he said, arms outstretched to embrace his friend. "It's good to see you."

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

Veiere smiled warmly as he stepped forward and took [member="Darth Mephirium"] by the wrist, offering a firm greeting in a warriors fashion; rather than taking the hand as you would a woman. "The feelings mutual, Cyril..." Veiere held an outwardly intrigued glint in his eye as he studied his old friend. It wasn't difficult to note the differences in density around the two's personae in the force; Veiere's aura seemingly lighter and not nearly so suffocating unlike Cyril's where the darker more malevolent nature of his personality had changed and inspired the shift in alignment that was commonly known of as the Dark Side of the Force, "It has been quite some time, I wasn't sure that we would cross each others paths again..." He motioned for Cyril to further enter the smaller vessel, Veiere turning to lead the male towards the center where the corridors intersected and split off to the four area's of the Vegabond; Cillian remained out of sight and busy with the controls within the cockpit and Veiere felt best not to disturb him with other priorities in mind, he therefore turned to the right and sought to lead the former Jedi Master into the formal lounge and conference room; the area set up for various delegations with politicians not of the same mind and simplistic taste that Veiere himself held.

"I heard you were in the Area through Commenor's Intelligence Agency..." He chose to freely elaborate on how he had known to seen out the invitation, moving towards the long table lined with chairs and taking the single seat at the far head; the polished wood reflecting the dim lighting reigning down from the roof above, it all looked very professional for one such as Veiere whom Cyril had known to be a much more hands-on approach to the path they had once led together; "The Chimaera's a war-ship isn't she..." He acknowledged the vast shadow that looped over the smaller personal yacht outweighing the Vegabond in almost every way. Cyril truly had no need for a lightsaber on board, his crew would be able to blow the smaller craft out of deep space without even a small effort; "What're you doing scowering the sector with a ship built like a brick-kriff house like that...-Expecting trouble, no doubt?".

 

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Things did indeed look a bit odd. Cyril had expected a utilitarian vessel that might have a refresher, and maybe a chair hidden away somewhere. The perceived extravagance of it -- for it was very much that by Veiere's tastes -- was surprising, but he felt he understood the reason for it. From what he knew, Veiere had gotten himself into cahoots with Commenor, though he did not know the details of the arrangement. From time to time, he'd been tempted to reach out to the Jedi Knight, considering how closely he was operating to Commenor. The reality of things, however had changed his thought processes. As strong as their friendship may have been, Veiere might not agree with what he was doing, and Commenor would be a necessary would for the new order.

Frowning at the thought, Cyril took the man's hand in a similar gesture, and found his misgivings fading away. Veiere was his comrade, his friend. He could make the man understand, and together, they could make the core a safe place to live once more. "I figured you'd found me with their help. Granted, I'm not exactly being quiet," Cyril mused, "Well, not that particular branch, but Commenor itself. I've heard you're in good with them. I was going to reach out, but my schedule is busy almost every waking hour of the day as of late." He offered his friend a smile, "Nevertheless, when you reached out, I couldn't not answer you."

A brow was lofted as Veiere brought up the Chimaera. The man had a point. "She is. You know the core is hell right now. So many warlords and despots running around these days that it's safer to live in the outer rim. You know one of the old One Sith generals is running an empire all his own in the north?" Cyril asked, keen to make small-talk and prod his old friend for what he might have known.

"I can't rightly leave my people undefended. The Chimaera is not the only ship in the fleet, but she is my favorite. Of course, you know that already -- you know her better than most."

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

Veiere chuckled at the notion that he might be 'good' with them; the Commenori people. "I would certainly hope so..." He offered a sideways smirk in confirmation, "The [member="Lady Kay"] is seated as Madame President after all. You would recognize her from the Conclave of Yutan; she was there in support of the reformation of the Order...". Cyril understood that the Conclave had been a very big play for the Jedi Knight, formerly of self-exile and knowing few, he had stepped forward with little in the way of personal gain to seek the profit and unity of the Jedi once again; they had been opposed however and met with arrogance in their refusal to act when it was again so vital that action be taken for their continued survival. And now look where they were, no more turning back as their opportunities had been stripped from them and their failing complacency had lead to their downfall. It was a sad loss to Veiere, one that could have been far grander in the scale of things yet pushed out, there was little he could do but leave them to their decline.

[member="Darth Mephirium"] soon mentioned the core worlds and how they were spiraling into equal descent without the governance from either the Sith Empire nor the Galactic Republic anymore; these two powers having been at the center of the map of politics and now no more, the people were left to govern their own worlds while any man with a strong arm and confident mind could claim the seat of power. "Yes, we're aware..." he spoke for both himself and Kay Larr in the moment, offering a firm nod in acknowledgement of all that was wrong with the galactic core; "Commenor has reached out to a number of others. We house a variety of embassies on our world to represent the other governments so that when the time comes, they can communicate with each other on a neutral ground and we might mediate any argument not having already reached an accord...-You might find this surprising but currently our biggest supporters are the First Order as well as the Silver Jedi Order, it's a very interesting alliance but it also earns us our share of troubles. Lately many of those troubles hails from the Hutt Cartel...".

It was too, no surprise that someone of the former Sith Empire had risen to try to claim what had been lost to them now; in fact it seemed to be a requirement of the Sith that they backstab their own to take the throne and further the cause. A double edged sword in itself but history always seemed destined to repeat itself. "Do you know the name of this General...-If they're affecting the North then it seems likely that eventually their actions will come to affect Commenor. There's been a foreboding and uneasy sense of peace about our world, trouble is coming our way and I believe that when it does hit, it will strike from all angles...".

 

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Oh, he most certainly knew of [member="Lady Kay"]. The woman had spoken up for both himself and Veiere at the conclave, back when he'd been doing everything he could to hold the flagging Republic together. In the end, that had led to naught but wasted time; at the very least they could say that they had tried. "Oh, I remember her. She had a pretty smile," Cyril flashed his friend a knowing smirk. "You two getting on particularly well then, count? Trying to find a new noble woman to claim for your house?" A chuckle followed his words, and he reached out to lightly elbow Veiere in the ribs.

"That's smart of you, reaching out. It seems like most everyone else is keen on turtling in on themselves. Apparently, they all think they can fend of potential invaders. I'd call them naive, but that would be a bit of an understatement. I pity them." The core was a volatile place as of late. Trade had fallen drastically, and some worlds were going without basic needs for their citizens. Cyril keenly recalled reading about two or three that were going through a famine now that supply lines were effectively cut.

He lofted a brow as Veiere asked about the general's identity. He knew it, of course, and he decided that sharing it could do no harm. "The one called Baelor. Started his own little rump state, or so I've heard." Cyril snorted, his amusement obvious. "Evidently they're saving the north, or something like that. I give them a year."

Shaking his head, he continued. "Perhaps I can help with your issues. I've a sizable fleet at my disposal now. We were planning on visiting Commenor a visit anyway. If your people need assistance, we can accommodate."

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

Baelor? Had he heard that name in the past...-Perhaps not? Veiere couldn't be certain, it did have something of a familiar ring to it and if that were the case, it would mean that the man being spoken of would certainly have a fair few connections, enough so to cause a scene should they so desire. "If they're truly intent on saving the North then I imagine they will seek out the Mandalorian Armies before they approach Commenor, too few recognize our world as an established power large enough to hold any sway and that is what's to be expected of us. Like I said, a neutral ground..." Though he did fear for the time where one of the greater powers in the galaxy would seek to take Commenor into it's own territories, expanding their reach around the trade and diplomatic world forcing the government into either action or submission. The people not likely to go down without a fight though it would be their allies who would aid in a decisive victory or otherwise result in a catastrophic defeat. Veiere neglected to bid [member="Darth Mephirium"] a response as to the matter of a housemaid; it was a jest of course though the Jedi Knight did not partake in it. Instead he was somewhat caught off by the offer of Cyril's help towards their current concerns.

"The Hutt Cartel is exactly as it sounds, I'm afraid" he turned to glance out through the viewing platform as the stars and the black of space drifted by them as though there weren't a single violent inclination out there within the Galaxy, "An organization of Criminals, slavers and renegades...-One [member="Flannigan Mcnash"] has targeted the Lady President because of her past interference with their slaving operations. You may know the name given your knack for all things troubling..." He half smiled, a wary sort of smirk as he knew well just how easily Cyril could take to the prospect of a fight where as Veiere himself was an idealist and a pacifist; recently [member="Lady Kay"] had informed him that Mcnash was hiding somewhere on the world of Sriluur. The likely hood of Cyril's company however would not likely see to the visit as civil and without violence as Veiere was intending for.

"Exactly what would you be expecting in return...-I hardly doubt you're in this sector to help a single world, your aspirations are much greater than that, or at-least they were the last time we met".

 

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Mephirium wished to speak of ambition. He wanted to show Veiere just how far his own went, and jist what they could accomplish if it was followed. With Veiere on his side, Commenor would soon follow, and so would the rest of the core. If Mephirium's sources were correct, and they usually were, the planet would be crucial in his designs.

That was not, however, why he had agreed to meet with his old friend.

He turned to watch the void drift past them, all promise of the coming conflict lost to nothingness. Mephirium almost envied that nothingness; to be so cut off from the ways of the galaxy would be a boon he was coming to crave as of late. But duty forever called. With a smile that might have been political, Cyril spoke, "I would not worry over them. There are other more violent despots in the area your people should be concerned about. At the very least, the Iron Empire, or so they call it, have a basic moral principle. Some of these men are just as keen to slaughter a city as they are to try and rule it." He spoke with obvious distaste, his lower lip curling with the words.

"I can't say I have. Truth be told, my eyes have been on larger things than criminals. Still, a slaver targeting your people is nothing to balk at. Should you need assistance, I am happy to provide." he did not mention that such assistance would likely end with the slaver's head being removed from his shoulder. Mephirium did not abide by slaver filth, or any similar law--breakers that targeted peaceful governments. Veiere knew that, of course. It was all in the details.

And so the greater topic at hand was finally brought to light. No doubt Veiere's intelligence friends had heard of Mephirium's recent activity in the core. Gyndine and the Legion of Ashes had sworn their service to him, and the knowledge was most certainly public to anyone who cared. It was only a matter of time before Veiere realized what was going on, if he had not already.

"Veiere," Cyril sighed, "I've been meaning to speak with you for some time. I cannot sit idly by as the galaxy is divided up by warlords, as I know you cannot. Commenor is your world, and the [member="Lady Kay"] is your lady, but I need you with me. I've gathered some old veterans from both sides of the war to restore a semblance of order to the core." He paused, reaching over to plant a firm hand on his friend's shoulder. "The Jedi Order is gone, my friend, as is the Republic, but our dream isn't. We can save this galaxy, you and I. We are two of the only men still alive from the order -- we are brothers. There are things I must show you, things you must come to understand. Together, we can protect Commenor, your lady, and the rest of the core."

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

His Brothers grip on his shoulder forced Veiere to turn and meet the gaze of [member="Darth Mephirium"] with a foreboding sense of unease; "The Jedi under the Galactic Republic may have become disillusioned and blinded by their politics but the Jedi Order is not dead, there are still pockets of Jedi in every far corner of the Galaxy. The Silver Jedi hold the North-east while there is another sanctuary for our people in the south under the Galactic Alliance's governance..." it was almost instinctual that he argue the death of the Order; though he had seen it himself and distanced himself from the other Jedi only to pursue the same cause under a different approach; he wasn't yet prepared to give up on the impact that the Jedi could have over the Galaxy.

Cyril had justified the concern in Veiere the moment he made mention of these Veterans of the former war, soldiers certainly though no doubt too, those of both the light and the dark side of the Force. While Veiere himself had met and spoken to several of those under the strong influence of the Dark Side during such times in formal events as the recent Commenori celebrations, it did nothing to help him forget the pleasure that the Sith had taken in the ruining of his former enclave on Svivren, nor the pride in their eyes during the assault of Mimban. "We can save this Galaxy...-You and I?" He questioned with disbelief, eyeing his brother now in something of a different light; with Mimban now in mind, Veiere remembered the Stormtroopers that followed Cyril's orders and landed on the dead world alongside the Jedi himself, Veiere fighting beside them and watching as they moved into battle at his friends very command.

"You're building an Army...." He muttered under his breath, loud enough for the two to continue to converse though the words were spoken reluctantly and his eyes were drawn back to the viewing platform to which he searched the stars for some sort of answer as to what this all meant. The fact was that he knew his friend well enough to know exactly what it meant for those around him. "The Galaxy is divided by Warlords and your answer to it is to become one?" He questioned, speaking nothing in the means of an accusation but rather curious to understand the mind of the other; "To bring one more sword to a field of swordsman will only provoke further chaos...Would it not?".

 

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It had only been a matter of time until Veiere came to understand. Their attempts to bring some semblance of unity with the Galactic Republic had been slowed by the corruption of the ruling class. Every beneficial decision they had tried to make found itself shoved through the gears of bureaucracy, only to emerge months later as a completely different construct. The Republic had resisted change; it had become inflexible. That had been its ultimate downfall. the war played a significant part in its death, but in the end, the Republic's leadership and the failure of the Jedi Order had slit the aging government's own throat. Cyril would be the first to admit that he was bitter, but was Veiere?

"The Silvers are complicated. They have odd beliefs and a terrible track record. They've proven numerous time that they will seek to preserve their providential power rather than the lives of galactic citizens," That much was no manipulation on Mephirium's part. He truly believed his words; the sincerity with which he spoke was inarguable. "And the Galactic Alliance is a different beast entirely. Its central government is poorly built. I give twenty years before it collapses in upon itself -- not to mention the militarization of their every facet. They are an empire with no emperor, and an empire with no strong leadership is an empire doomed to decay."

He gazed out into the abyss as he spoke. Mephirium was, above all else, a politician. Before he had ever sworn himself to uphold the Jedi mantras, he had studied under the tutelage of his mother; arguably one of the greatest galactic leaders to grace the galaxy in the last three centuries. She had accomplished all her deeds through pacifism and compassion. His father had accomplished similar things through fire and blood. Darth Mephirium was the middle ground, and that was why Cyril would not fail.

"I do not bring a sword, but a quiver of arrows. My strokes are calculated and precise. We do not raze civilian settlements. We do not force people to change their laws, customs, or views. We only bring security. Furthermore, I carry the pen and the voice in alongside that quiver. To this day, all that have joined us have done so out of their own volition. We have not fired a shot; save for at pirates and raiders."

Cyril cast Veiere a half-smile. "I will not restore the Republic, for the Republic was a failure, but I will build upon its failures to create something for the betterment of all sentient-kind. I would have you with me to accomplish this, old friend."

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

"Swords, Arrows...-It makes little difference, these are weapons of war, Cyril" Veiere shook his head slowly, turning to glance back to that of [member="Darth Mephirium"] now suddenly feeling the need to distract his mind from jumping to the worst of conclusions. Moving away from the window looking out across the black abyss, he instead moved to the nearby counter carved into the far wall housing a small alcove of glasses and drinks; a particularly flash looking bottle glazed though almost opaque showing the blue liquid that almost seemed to shine from within. The drink itself was non-alcoholic, though the ingredients within did boast for ones energy levels and more often than not lately, Veiere had been resorting to the small comfort to keep him through his later evenings dealing with the affairs of the Commenori; pouring a glass for Cyril, he returned to sit it upon the nearby table and take a seat his seat looking across to his old friend with something of a concerned gaze; "The truth about my position alongside [member="Lady Kay"]'s is that it does not compromise our former ideals as Jedi. Yes, I may be more involved in politics than I'd have liked but we seek only to lead our world, our reach to the other systems and governments is out in search of unity, understanding and the pursuit of peace and diplomacy", none of which involved them needing to enter into conflict with anyone but the criminal syndicate that was seeking to undermine the Lady President.

"You on the other hand speak as if the galaxy is broken and that your cause is the one cause that will fix it. Others will disagree and the more ground you seek to cover, the more attention you will bring on to yourselves. The Core-Worlds are an important position for all matters of galactic needs but it is also the most sought after; those who hold the eye of the galaxy will also hold the most influence and earn the most scrutiny as well..." these were things that history had told him, Veiere knew that history often repeated itself and he questioned Cyril's eagerness to prevail, his readiness for conflict, "Many people have claimed to be the answer to the Chaos of todays Society after all...-Dare I ask, how this armada of yours would affect Commenor...-We are of the Core Worlds and every ripple that you make will reach us. How do you plan to lead, with a stone-fist or will you retain the importance of diplomacy and fairness to the people you look to reside over".

 

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Veiere would never be the type to march off to war for the sake of it. He was too good of a man; he stuck to his values even when it proved to be terribly inconvenient. Mephirium could sympathize -- he'd been the same for quite some time. It was only when enlightenment was forced upon him that he began to adopt a wider view of the world. Veiere would just have to come to see that too, though Mephirium had no intention of doing any forcing of his own.

"You're a good man, Veiere," he said, taking the drink with a thankful smile. He brought it up to his lips, sipping thoughtfully as his eyes met his friend's. "You follow the code well. Always so stalwart in what you do; what you believe. A model Jedi knight." he raised the glass, as if in a toast to Veiere's incandescence. "I was too. For twenty long years I served the order. Do you know what my stalwart agreement brought?" He lofted a brow.

"I fought an unwinnable war. I fell in love with a woman. I knew her as Silara, but most knew her as [member="Darth Vitium"]. When she offered to return that love, I rejected her for the order. I could have helped her -- perhaps stopped some of the atrocities she came to commit after word. I lost her because of my dogmatic adherence to an ancient religion not suited to modern times. My sisters perished fighting for Coruscant's independence when, in reality, the planet was virtually unchanged from when it was under Republic rule. The Galactic Alliance freed it afterword, yes, but what's changed there really? Not much, aside from whom is collecting the taxes."

A heavy sigh fell from Mephirium's lips. His words carried sort of despair that could only come from years of what he now perceived as slavery: slavery that he had willingly put himself into. "When we tried to save the Republic, what happened? The bureaucracy destroyed us. No one could make a decision, so we simply ceased to exist. People are dying by the thousands because of our indecision. No matter how you skew it, that is our fault."

The glass was set down with a definitive thud. "You know me, Veiere. Of course I intend to retain diplomacy. We're establishing a karking senate, damnit. I am no dictator. They have given me a title befitting an emperor, but I have limited my powers significantly. I am the middle-ground between our military and our civilian side. I reign the warriors in, and I make sure the rights of the people are not infringed upon by any group. I've set aside my place as a Jedi because I cannot help people that way. I control the Sith in my ranks; they call me dark lord, and all they do serves our people. The armies only march upon war criminals and tyrants."

"All that I do -- that I have done, has been out of service. I have given my life, my blood, my love for these people, and you accuse me of being some kindof power-grabbing tyrant?" The words spilled from his lips without thought. Mephirium was not angry; he was hurt. His presence in the force no longer retained its sense of calm, but rumbled with displeasure. Veiere's questions, while prudent, had seemed more akin to an attack on Cyril's character than simple thoughts.

Realizing his mistake, Cyril slumped drew in a deep breath and mumbled a quiet mantra to himself. The storm he had unleashed die more or less instantly, and he gave Veiere an apologetic glance. "Apologies. I deal with politicians and vipers every day. I get touchy with my friends sometimes," he sighed. "Commenor is vital, but we've no intention of subjugating the world. We will attempt to open talks with your Lady Kay, and if that fails, simple trade deals. Kay is no despot, and as such we've no reason to try and remove her from power. I did offer you my help, did I not?"

Such was the root of the problem.

"Veiere, peace is the noblest aspiration, but sometimes you must fight for it. I bring weapons because I know everyone else has them, and they will not hesitate to cut down an unarmed ambassador. I will speak whenever possible, but my sword will not leave my side, because I know it will find use in the coming days."

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

I lost her because of my dogmatic adherence to an ancient religion not suited to modern times.​

​

These were strong words, stronger than Veiere was used to hearing from the man he had served with in trying to restore the Jedi Order working alongside the Galactic Republic. Cyril Grayson seemed very focused on that body of Government, Veiere too knew their downfall and had more than his share of assumptions to cast against the people that turned away progress and yet he had not allowed it to sour his approach towards others, nor had it fueled him into a warriors crusade. His heart had never been in the politics, the Republic had always been an after thought compared to the Order itself of which Veiere had once known to be completely opposite of what it had become, in the past steadfast and firm in its ideal's as he was; only to become complacent, lazy and arrogant. Yes, Veiere had suffered from that failure, he felt insulted and cast away, denied by the Order he had served all his life...-Yet still he believed in the Force and in the Jedi Order. Yes the people had become corrupt and blinded by their lavish comforts but that did not eat away at what the Jedi Order represented, what it had stood for and would one day stand for once more if he could ever have his way.

The fact that [member="Darth Mephirium"] had loved and lost was news to him and it was spoken rather close to home, in the sense that Veiere could relate to the fear of losing someone that he cared for. It helped to keep him quiet as Cyril spoke, it took his mind elsewhere to consider his own state of mind had he to lose Lady Kay to the opposition that was his morale alignment. For her to cross over to the Dark Side, to see the weight of the galaxy crush her and to churn her into someone else, anything but the caring and compassionate woman that she was now; Veiere knew the strength that it would have taken to remain beside the Order. Perhaps there was no alternative, he did wonder if there was no third option in being able to seek her out and help her as Cyril mentioned yet did not elaborate; knowing the man so much as Veiere did, Cyril would have naturally pursued her if it was a possibility...-And yet he had spent years as a hidden cell within the ranks of the One Sith, sewing dissent from within, or so he had told the Conclave of Yutan.

All that I do -- that I have done, has been out of service. I have given my life, my blood,​

my love for these people, and you accuse me of being some kind of power-grabbing tyrant?​

​

Veiere's words had been taken by personal insult and yet the assumption was not in truth to be correctly made from the Jedi Knights curiosity and concern around his old friends plan for the Core Worlds. Whether or not some of the Jedi were involved, Cyril hadn't yet mentioned, certainly not named any of those he had brought with him during the conclave nor the battle of Gyndine yet he had openly said that he was working alongside those of the Sith; long after rerouting their Empire and turning his back on the woman he loved for the life that she had chosen. Too easy was it to find loopholes in Cyril's story with so little details and no real idea of the length of time that passed during the days that he spoke of. Fortunate for Cyril that Veiere was not a man to act out of paranoia nor without solid evidence, he could not turn down the few positives that Cyril's plan offered yet again he found himself concerned for the prospective blood shed in the pursuit of peace. It was that same contradiction, the double edged sword that would only bring as many enemies to their door as they did attempt to fight for 'peace'.

Veiere, peace is the noblest aspiration, but sometimes you must fight for it. I bring weapons because I know everyone else has them.​

​

"And while everyone holds this attitude, who in their right mind would let them (The weapons), go..." Veiere countered, raising a hand in response to Cyril's emotions that had flared, reaching out half way in a silent notion suggesting that his friend find his calm once more. The problem was that he was talking to Veiere as if he was a soldier and not a Jedi Knight of the Order, a guardian of the innocent and a warden of the Force, not a foot-soldier to be thrown into battles at the demands of men and women who knew not the ferocity of combat themselves. "The Jedi that I remember were Keepers of the Peace, not weapons for war...-Back on Yutan, you put my name forward for the possibility of becoming Grand-master knowing that I am a Pacifist, that I will do everything to deter conflict but nothing to start it. The Jedi rise up in the Defense of others, they don't seek their enemies out to fuel further death and bring about the Chaos that your Sith are well known for, my old friend...". Veiere had said nothing against Cyril as a person but if they were going to talk ideals and moral views towards the Galaxy and how to help it, they would find themselves on opposite sides of the fence. As it stood, Veiere was doing exactly what he felt was right by the standards of the Jedi and the needs of the Galaxy, with his efforts on Commenor. It was a definite plus that it was [member="Lady Kay"] that he found himself working alongside day in and day out but beyond that, the work that they sought to share with the other bodies of governance in order to lesson the potential for further war was right on point with his desire to aid in the end of Conflict; not add another sword to challenge all the rest.

Lifting a hand to pinch the bridge of his nose, his gaze dropped in momentary consideration. He did not wish to seem as if he was arguing Cyril at every turn but he struggled to see the diplomacy behind his old friends need to justify another army, another body of soldiers on the cusp of war with those already to large in number and reluctant to cease their own battles for expansion. "Lady Kay will wish to hear of your offer, your desires for the core words, she is the authority on Commenor and has the political mind that I fear I do not..." He returned to look across the table to that of Cyril, offering him something of a sympathetic look knowing that his friend was copping his concern and his doubts for the future of their sector of space.

 

[Placeholder 04]

A quiet sigh fell from Cyril's lips. Despite how it may have seemed, he was not displeased with Veiere. His old friend had a strong heart and a sound mind; he stuck to his guns. for that, Cyril would eternally respect him, even if it did bring him no end of annoyance.

"All we do is seek to defend. I have found a middle ground, Veiere. A center path," he explained, his eyes drifting shut as he savored the flavor of the Bluesky. He'd been speaking to Veiere like one of his men. The usual speech generally garnered support without all that much effort, but Veiere was not a usual man. He needed to truly understand where Cyril came from.

"I can protect people more effectively this way, than with the Jedi." He continued, "It's not that I've forsaken the Jedi -- it's that they strayed from the path. Come with me, Veiere, and I can show you how things truly are. The galaxy isn't all black and white. Something is going to happen to your lady, and you won't know how to deal with it. We can prevent that together, as brothers."

Once more, he reached over to squeeze Veiere on the shoulder. "We will be sending our envoys soon enough. Hopefully she'll meet with us and we can establish proper relations."

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

[member="Darth Mephirium"] seemed to connect the dots as if he were pulling Veiere's concerns for [member="Lady Kay"] from his mind and straight out onto the table before them; his hand landed upon Veiere's shoulder to which he did not pull away from, however the look in his eyes become harder as he turned in to meet the gaze with a hint of defiance and the almost instantaneous instinct to fight the idea that she was under threat. "As long as I am able I will do all in my power to ensure her protection..." he would remind his friend, the change in his body language giving more evidence to his affections for the woman that he had meant to; yet with the prospective movements of a new army around Commenor's sector of space followed by the suggestion that the galaxy would take one of the few people he held close to himself, his inability to guard his emotions and keep them in check echo'd just how long he too had strayed from the Jedi Order. His ideals remained yet no longer in service to the Order itself, their constraints and encouragement of the Jedi Code no longer reached him.

Taking a slow breath and needing now to regain his composure, he raised a hand in silent apology and glanced to the wooden surface of the table they shared, considering this prospective middle path, a potential answer according to Cyril, to the delimmer of war, both light and dark it would seem. "Show me then..." He spoke up, a glance returned as he slowly leaned back into his chair and resigned to accept the offer to at the least, witness the regime that his friend had begun to build; "Show me that what you are trying to achieve differs from all the rest out there. That you are not in it only for yourselves and the territories you can claim but seek to better the galaxy as a whole through diplomatic and moral standing...-That this movement of yours is in the best interests of the Galaxy and not to promote the further ensuing chaos of it all".

 

[Placeholder 04]

"I know we will be attacked. I know we will be brought into war, and I know that all we do shall be righteous and correct." Cyril spoke as if it were a mantra he told himself every evening. He met Veiere's question with a steady look and sincere words. "I cannot simply show you now. My words are hollow without action. That much, you know."

He flashed his old friend a grin.

"I will show you how we do our diplomacy in the future, Veiere. You don't need to worry. You'll have a front row seat." He clapped a hand on the Commoneri knight's shoulder.

"Right now? Let's just catch up. I've missed you, old friend. Has the [member="Lady Kay"] stolen your heart so far away from us that you can never leave Commenor?" He quirked a brow, "Or perhaps she keeps something just as important in a little leather bag back home. Tell me, did you let her have them willingly, or did she cut them off while you were sleeping?""

Cyril laughed.

Little did either of them know just how close Veiere would truly be when the galactic powers set their sights upon the Dominion...

[member="Veiere Arenais"]

 

[WolfMortum]

Veiere couldn't help but snort an abrupt laugh and retaliate with a smirk and a tone that echo'd the relief of a much lighter subject of conversation. The truth was he had told no one just how closely he held [member="Lady Kay"] to his ambitions, his passions often mediated, controlled so not to let any form of vulnerability show over top of his Jedi background yet his friend here had already guessed it almost immediatly upon stepping on board and their seemed little time now for such a facade following the prospect of their ([member="Darth Mephirium"] and his peoples) coming to power. "Honestly, I do not think Kay is remotely even aware of it" He bobbed his head to he right in a moment of indifference, "I've made no moves to push the matter and it's difficult to drop my guard these days. We've so many seeking to remove her from power from behind the scenes, I am first and foremost her bodyguard and there to protect her. In my absence, her security team are stationed to accompany her yet they do not have the same reach that a practitioner in the force does, nor the same incentive...-I can go and do as I see fit but the question should really be about my desire to do so...".

"I do find myself missing the old days, remembering those before me, those I've lost and how simple the life of a Jedi Knight used to be. The confines of the Enclave offered an isolated sanctuary where for a few weeks it would be broken down and entail a mission issued by the Jedi Council...-Training Students when home..." He spoke somewhat quietly, his eyes seeming to glaze somewhat as he practically looked through Cyril, his mind relaying images of old, memories of the path of the Jedi Order; how it once was. "It is hard to ignore the fact that in today's society everything burns at the notion of a single spark. Why is it so that war seems to be the only thing that gets peoples attention any more...".