Second Star to the Right

[Atlas Drake]

​

Command Deck // KRV Utopia​

Arkanis Sector // Outer Rim​

FarStar Initiative: Day 36​

​

"Incoming transmission from CNS Dauntless, Captain! They respectfully request we drop hyperspace on their mark."

"Make it so helm," Atlas choked out a muffled response, still gnawing away around the core of an apple he had been working through, "Its their game now, let's do what we can to play ball."

He had personally overseen their first foray into foreign lands from the bridge's central command throne, although from the looks of things now he might have been better off finishing up on some datawork in his ready room instead. Ever since their rendezvous just beyond Drexel, their Confederate honor guard had handled all the heavy lifting. They had provided precise jump coordinates so that an unidentified star destroyer like the Utopia could arrive safely in Geonosis space without immediately getting shot to pieces by the system's considerable defense network.

"Reversion in three...two...." a small shudder punctuated the navigational officer's count, and starlines exploded into luminescent points that could only signify realspace. A massive burnt orange globe slowly rose into view, as if the planet of Geonosis was dawning over their bridge's main viewport. Even as they neared orbit on sublight thrusters, the Confederate capital's extensive metropolitan development was plainly evident. A remarkable feat in so short a span, there was nothing quite like it anywhere else in the Rim.

"Drop anchor and inform our honor guard their escort is appreciated," Captain Drake clapped his hands together in open excitement. There was a general buzz throughout the command deck, this was the type of assignment they had all trained for, "See if we can't track down Marshal Fyre, he should be here when the Exarch makes contact."

[member="Dax Fyre"] was the senior Coalition Judge on board, a temporary passenger only hitching a ride until they made planetfall. Atlas hadn't had much time to get to know Fyre in the brief time the two had been acquainted, but if he had to venture a guess he presumed the 'distinguished official' would be found in the Utopia's mess, the closest thing there was to a cantina on board. There had been more brawls under his watch since Dax had arrived than in the entire history of his service record as an officer in the Kathol Republic Navy combined.

"And uh...maybe get some stim caf in him."

[member="Srina Talon"]​

 

[Dax Perl]

Dax didn't know what it was about him that made the KR personnel want to fight him. Maybe it was the fact that he was so young to be in the position that he was and he needed to prove himself. Or maybe they just didn't like him. Either way, Dax was happy to oblige them. The sound of a body crashing against a table and the clatter of plates and forks accompanied the jeering of a small crowd. Dax had just thrown one of the crewmen onto a table and was poised to introduce the man's nose to his fist but was stopped by another man grabbing him from behind and attempting to put him into a choke hold. A moment of struggle was ended by Dax placing his leg behind the man's legs and twisting, taking both of them down to the ground. But the weight of Dax landing ontop of the crewman knocked the breath out of the man and loosened his grip, long enough for Dax to roll off and back to his feet to deliver swift kick to the man's stomach. Dax turned to the other man who had his fists up, ready to go again. Alrighty then. The other crewman attempted several jabs at the Marshall, only to be dodged or parried aside. A long windup was all Dax needed to end the fight. Instead of stepping away, he stepped towards the man, closing the distance, the crewman's attack only colliding with Dax's upraised arm, blocking and then coiling around the attacking arm, an elbow collided with the man's chest, taking him to the ground. A single jab to his face ended it all with crack and spurt of blood from the nose.

A voice cut through the noise of what had become any other bar fight and the crew members snapped to attention. "Marshall, you're requested on the bridge."

"Alright, I'll head up. Get these men some ice and a bottle of whiskey on me please."

[member="Atlas Drake"] | [member="Srina Talon"]

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Outer Rim Territories, Arkanis sector, Geonosis System, [Geonosis]
Meeting Place: Golbah City [The Citadel]
Intent: Diplomatic Renewal
Wearing: X-X-X
Tag: [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Atlas Drake"]

---

The ever silent Dread Queen of the Confederacy remained achingly inaudible while she awaited the arrival of their guests. Often, she found herself serving as a reception for off-worlders and dignitaries from all over the verse. The Vicelord was not shy, however, he preferred the package that she lay at their allies’ feet versus his own entirely corrupted nature. She was a precision tool, a scalpel, whereas he was far more of a blunt object. A hammer. Where everything, and everyone, was a nail. Silver eyes flickered over a multitude of holo-screens that portrayed the Utopia arriving right on schedule. Some security was always needed but the differences in protocol, depending on the nation, always struck the nigh albino woman as strange and inefficient.

Why could they not simply agree not to take up arms against one another? Already, they were in pacts to aid one another, to defend, and protect. Why did that not extend to their respective capitals?

When the CIS had first met with the Silvers, so long ago, there hadn’t been any need for this. What made their guests from the Outer Rim any different? Was it a general thought, a learned behavior from the Remnants of the Alliance, that the Confederacy was too dark for their liking? Srina did not yet know. She had participated, personally, at the side of [member="Darth Metus"] in the defense of Skor II. They had evacuated survivors from the ruins of Coruscant. They had taken in any refugees from the Core and offered them asylum, a new home, and protection. They had negotiated with Naboo versus resorting to a forced occupation. Srina herself planned to wed a fallen Jedi Commander in the near future. Yes. Their methods were unorthodox. But, were they the monsters of the southernmost systems?

Sometimes. To be entirely honest…Sometimes. Just—not where their allies were concerned. They honored their promises. Always.

She waved her hand over the holo-comm on her wrist and hailed the KRV Utopia. It was expected. More, protocol. The hologram of the woman that would appear first to [member="Atlas Drake"] did not truly do her justice. Her voice would carry as if it had a mind of its own, filled with quiet authority, and a practical reference point. It was light as air. Not at all the terrifying, wintry woman, that was said to hold absolute loyalty to the Vicelord. “Captain Drake.”, she greeted, gaze flickering, when she realized didn’t see her second contact yet. “I hope that your travel has been free of difficulty. Were our escorts satisfactory?”

She had met [member="Dax Fyre"] once on Skor II, briefly, offering to help him up after he’d been stuck in some sort of snot-grenade. She’d looked different then. Clad in the angry, brutal, demonic armor that was her Scarlet Vow it shouldn’t shock her if he had hardly recognized her later on. The second was a prisoner transfer on Askaj. The moonlit creature had torn through a group of slavers without an ounce of mercy, regardless, the system that she was fighting in. The Judges had granted her autonomy. She hadn’t wasted it.

“Where is my Judge?”

The word “my” should not be confused with a sense of ownership. Dax Fyre was simply the only one she knew. He was also the one that she had expected to see and her tone left no room for argument. It held the emotional capacity of a glacier. Regardless, she wordlessly had the landing codes transmitted to the Utopia. It would give them access to land and refuel after dropping off the beings that had traveled so very far at the private spaceport atop the Citadel. Guests need not wait and travel by land speeder or light rail. It was ineffectual. Srina had a sneaking feeling that if any of the ORC Representatives found the Bazaar before the Citadel she’d never see them sober again. “Regardless…We welcome you. Let your crew disembark once their duties are met so that they may rest and enjoy themselves. I will meet you on the landing platform at the coordinates you have been provided.”

Her ethereal form would disappear immediately afterward as the connection was cut. Pleasantries were not her strong suit.

 

[Atlas Drake]

"Greetings on behalf of Dayark and the Coalition, Exarch," Atlas dipped in a slight formal bow, a reflexive choice given his unfamiliarity with the local customs, "Your Defense Force has been exemplary, ma'am. And travel is what we do."

His lips splayed open into a playful smile, and a single eyebrow quirked in reaction to her next question. Nothing in his dossier had indicated [member="Dax Fyre"] and [member="Srina Talon"] had such a relationship, and he suspected this might be an inside joke between the two of them that he wasn't privy to. Well, it was conversation material for the shuttle ride over at least.

"Marshal Fyre is aboard, ma'am. He's on his way up now but to be honest, we weren't expecting to hear from you so soon. We're honored."

He thanked her for her welcome and flashed a knowing glance at the change in mood of his bridge crew in response to the Exarch's open invitation. As explorers, it wasn't always certain how comfortable cultures would be allowing many visitors, and the news that shore leave in Golbah City was authorized was sure to spread like wildfire throughout the crew. His Republic might have been a backwater star cluster, but even they had heard of perhaps the most industrious metropolis in the entire region outside of First Order space.

"Prep a shuttle team, minimal compliment," he ordered after confirming they had received Exarch Talon's coordinates, "I'll meet Fyre at the lifts."

Although only a dozen or so comprised the majority of Kathol's starfleet, at nearly fourteen hundred meters the Star Dragon-class was not a small ship, so by the time Dax had made it up to the bridge Captain Drake was already on his way out. He motioned for the Rogue Jedi to walk with him as they made their way for the hangar, where one of the star destroyer's handful of courier shuttles was already fueling up and in pre-flight in anticipation of their arrival.

"Marshal," he acknowledged Dax at last, after finally handing off a datapad one of his junior officers with some last minute protocols, "I'm afraid you just missed the Exarch, she's already awaiting us on the surface."

He adopted an expression as they rode the turbolift down to hangar level that was a mixture of friendly and conciliatory. Drake was aware his crew had given the Marshal a bit of a rough time, and while part of that may have had to do with a Judge's characteristic blunt nature, he also knew that for the superstitious Outback natives where Force adepts were by no means a common place, there were many in the crew who actively sought to test themselves against these so called superhumans. That was why he needed Dax here, not just to speak for the greater Coalition but to make up for his people's blind spots.

"I want you to know, I appreciate you volunteering to come along," he acknowledged the Judge's service before their boarded their shuttle, "This is my people's first diplomatic contact on this level outside the deep rim, I'm gonna be depending on you to keep me from making a fool of myself down there."

 

[Dax Perl]

Dax wasn't entirely surprised when he was met by [member="Atlas Drake"] on his way up to the bridge. It was a big, bustling ship, lots of moving parts, and something was always happening. He figured pretty quickly that the man had already spoken to [member="Srina Talon"]. The Rogue gave a short, but respectful nod. "Captain. I take it she was happy to see us," Dax said in a joking manner, knowing full well the cold-demeanor the Exarch had, so common of many Dark Siders, including himself at one point. But that was a detail about himself that was seldom shared.

Dax walked alongside the older Captain as the man spoke. "You shoulda bought Brill along if you didn't want foolish," he responded, "Things have a tendency to get pretty wacky when I'm around. Just...don't do anything to piss the Exarch off...she can be a scary lady." In fact, Dax wouldn't recommend pissing off anyone in CIS. Wonderful folk, but damn could they wreak havoc. And the Marshall was not excited to have to clean up that mess.

As the two boarded the shuttle, Dax peered out of the cockpit, leaning against the doorframe. Already he could feel the distinct presence of the Exarch creeping up on him. This was the Rogue's first time in Confederate space. Now that Dax had thought about, it was incredibly odd to him that he had not visited their space before, given how closely together they'd worked before. Although the two factions didn't exactly see eye to eye on all issues, they'd always agreed on one thing, freedom. And they'd continued to uphold that ideal. Personally, Dax didn't have any reason to believe that any 'official' deals needed to be struck. He trusted his counter parts in the Confederacy. But he knew that he and they wouldn't always be around to maintain the working relationship they had. Hopefully Srina wouldn't be too offended by his agreeing with official terms.

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: Outer Rim Territories, Arkanis sector, Geonosis System, [Geonosis]
Meeting Place: Golbah City [The Citadel]
Intent: Diplomatic Renewal
Wearing: X-X-X
Tag: [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Atlas Drake"]

---

Srina was mollified, slightly, by the notion that her Judge was somewhere on the KRV Utopia. Captain Drake seemed nice enough, however, she did not know the man outside of what information could be gleaned from public records. Silver eyes had analyzed his expression and stance as well as she was able but it was only so effective when it came to a hologram. It was a curiosity to hear that someone felt honored to speak to her. Why? She was glorified public servant who happened to be able to move things with her mind. This made her different. Not honorable.

When she disconnected from the channel her offices were launched into startling darkness. A sigh rolled through her. It would take time for her guests to reach the intended destination and it left her with a scarce few moments to breathe. When she did stand she smoothed the white shimmersilk skirt down neatly and headed toward the exit. Crimson-eyed Magnaguard shifted into place. They were at least a foot taller than she was and far more intimidating.

Nevertheless, on Geonosis, where she went—they followed.

By the time she made it out to the landing platform, she could see the shuttle beginning to touch down. A light wind pulled at her form, stirring her impeccable attire, before it gradually settled. Golbah City was hot. Blisteringly so. The Citadel was well air-conditioned but the arid atmosphere outside would give most anyone a reason to pause. Her arms locked behind her back and she stepped forward when the hatch began to open. “You’re both late.”

By minutes at most. But still, tardy. Her head inclined slightly in greeting, just enough, to acknowledge without giving any ground. Once they departed the transport ship she would await for both men and any of their intended people to make the approach. The pair looked, for the most part, different as night and day. There was something off about Judge Fyre. Mercurial eyes narrowed as she glanced between them. Echani eyes missed nothing. “Have you been fighting?”

His form, generally speaking, seemed to have been recently the subject of light trauma. “What happened...?”, Srina questioned, speaking now to Captain Drake, over the man that had arrived with him. He had been present on his ship. In her eyes, it was his problem, and now her problem. If a representative of the ORC arrived to CIS soil very recently with injuries it could cause an issue with their pre-existing alliance. “Do you require aid?”

He was walking fine. Nothing seemed broken. But, protocol was protocol. It was her duty to ensure that both of these individuals returned to Outer Rim space just as healthy as they’d left it. She turned, halfway back toward the entrance, and nodded her head toward it. “Come. Both of you, follow me.”

Once again the Magnaguard moved as she did. It was with an almost terrifying precision that bespoke both their superior programming and adaptive responses. These droids would respond only to her voice and movements. They took their cues from every move she made and acted accordingly.

“Our main hall has been arranged to your needs.”

Gone were the long, boring, metal tables and uncomfortable high backed chairs. Instead, they had been replaced with much more comfortable couches and low tables piled high with sweets that Srina had not made. Definitely, had not made. She had been warned that her cooking could kill. As much as she found individuals from the ORC rambunctious, and overly fond of eating whale, she did not want them dead. No, no.

They were better alive.

The portal opened at her presence as she led her guests into the rearranged meeting hall. They would even see, if they were paying attention, a fully stocked bar. “Make yourselves comfortable…”