"Yes, I understand that Mr. Kuat," Yora said for what seemed like the hundredth time that day. Indeed, the Falleen was the most understanding senator on Kuat, not to mention its only senator. Yet if one were to ask the New Republic, there was no senator for Kuat at all. Such contradiction was the focus of this meeting, as it had been for the previous meeting, and the dozen or so meetings before that. Inasmuch as the Falleen felt sympathy for the frustrations of House Kuat at the inaction of the Republic, she harbored her own at how often those emotions were taken out on her.
Such was the life of a public servant.
"I do believe," the Senator began, holding up a clawed hand to her lunch companion to dispel the diatribe he was about to launch back into, "that our goals are once again aligned." The practiced tact issued from Yora's mouth with ease, the product of the missteps of her youth and many prayers to Balagoth since. She rose, gathering the simple, unadorned robes about her, dipping into a short bow before saying, "I must thank you for the opportunity to do so once more, and hope that these discussions are always as enlightening for you as they are for me."
In truth, this meeting had progressed as the many before it had, with a pointless eulogy on the subject of Kuat's membership status within the Republic. A point of much contention between the two governments since the introduction of a new charter in the Senate many months prior. A charter that had thrown the very balance of the member worlds into a question that Kuat, among others, had taken seriously. The revision to the Republic's founding document shifted power away from the Senate, and thus from the member worlds themselves.
A shift which the member world of Kuat had taken a hard line against and refused to sign until the Republic made good on the responsibilities they held to the planet. Still reeling from the economic depression of the Sith's wanton destruction of the galactic core worlds, Kuat's numerous pleas for financial aid and stimulus had been rejected or stagnated in the Senate. A token relief effort was created, but its goals were couched in publicity and its actual efforts inadequate. Many other worlds also suffered, was the oft-used phrase to quell Senator Yora's many objections and proposals for resolution. We must all pull together so we can rise together, the needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few, and other condescending platitudes, were bandied about. Soundbites to be used as sweetener for the pallid drink the Republic was serving its worlds.
Meanwhile, the orbital ring remained largely in ruins. Meanwhile, the once-green farmlands lay scarred from debris and radiation. Meanwhile, the Kuati people starved as they watched society decay.
Seven years. That was how long the New Republic had promised to help restore Kuat to the grandeur and esteem once bestowed upon it. In an earlier age, Kuat had built the galaxy's most fearsome navies. The legacy Yora had inherited was a world removed but well-remembered from that time, one that could bank upon its reputation to sustain its business. With the ring cracked and its tattered shipyards in slow regrowth, the Kuat Drive Yards was all but bankrupt, pushing what meager funds it earned into maintaining what little facilities remained functioning aboard the broken ring.
Seven years of broken promises had not prepared Kuat for the utter betrayal of the Republic. Instead of yielding to Kuat and the other worlds that refused to capitulate to the government's blatant power grab, it turned its back on them and rescinded their membership. Now relegated to a mere economic partnership, the term served as an even deeper insult for Kuat than its entire tenure as a member world. Anger steamed not only from House Kuat, but from the Kuati citizens themselves. It was little wonder it had erupted into violent action.
It was only a tragedy that the target had belonged to a foreign power.
That selfsame foreign power cared little for the distinctions of the Republic's internal hierarchy. Kuat lay within New Republic space, Kuat flew the banner of the New Republic, Kuat considered itself a New Republic member world —despite insistence to the contrary— and so Kuat's actions represented the New Republic's actions. To be more precise, the actions of an errant few represented the actions of Kuat, to which the domino effect applied. Already, the news media spoke lively of political rhetoric flying in thick flocks and fleets of ships gathering both at the border and rally points, bearing not the colors of the Republic but that of the Confederacy.
Where was the Republic? Biding their time, no doubt. Holding yet another meeting of the Senate, no doubt, to which Yora was no longer allowed attendance. Any expectation that they would act in defense of their citizens would be met in failure, just as the Republic had failed to provide before, and failed to uphold its self-proclaimed duty to defend the Core. No, any saving grace would come not from the Republic but from the very hands of Kuat itself.
And with House Kuat's hands occupying themselves with profit and loss, it fell to the scaled talons of Sankt Yora.
Yora watched with weary eyes as her lunch guest was escorted out of the Senatorial offices on Kuat, which she had made her primary workplace for the past several months, and her staff began to clean up the remnants of the half-eaten fare. She dismissed them with a hand and request to address it later. Right now, the woman needed quiet and calm. The spirit of her guest still lingered, polluting the space she needed for herself with overwrought anxiety. The Falleen withdrew the chain of beads she kept within her robes, their symbols etched deep into their bodies. She chose the fifth among it, focusing on it, letting the will of another flood through her. The faint chimes of the past sounded inside her head, signalling the change that washed over her conscious mind.
Seating herself at her austere desk, she drew herself to the holoscreen present upon its surface, pressing a finger to a device nearby. "It is time. Make the call." In what seemed as no time at all, the Falleen Senator was presented with the silver visage of the Echani Exarch [member="Srina Talon"], the eminent power she represented was belied by the woman's apparent youth. Yora took little note of it in her expression, listening intently to the Exarch's words with dark eyes.
"Ms. Talon, it is a pleasure to speak with you, even in the wake of such confusion," the Falleen suggested in a furtive appeal for optimism, moving forward regardless. "I can assure you that Kuat is equally as mollified by the actions of a reckless few. Our diligent security forces are already searching for the identity of those responsible and to impede any efforts for them to act again."
She paused for a moment, allowing the Confederate woman to process the information. The language of politics was far from obtuse, and Yora had little desire for the words she used now to be misunderstood. When the signs deemed it appropriate once more, the Senator continued, "Still, our resources are stretched thin. The New Republic has been..." the Falleen woman's lips stretched into a thin line, "less than forthcoming in the wake of this tragedy. And so it is that time appears to be our predominant mutual enemy."
