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The coronation ball had come and gone, the city of Avalonia had both cleaned and sobered up from the celebrations. It was the middle of Evdomos and autumn was starting to turn into winter and the temperatures had already begun to drop. The leaves had more than already turned their colors, they fell so easily from their branches. Gray skies were clear, and the bustle of people in the streets seemed to pay no need to the diplomatic motorcade of the CIS rounding through the streets toward Governance Row, and more specifically the Ambassador Hall. Street vendors offered a wide array of morning meals, drinks and cold weather clothing. Newspaper made from durasheets were offered at the street corners.
Towering sky scrapers mixed and matched with the old style Galidraani architecture, subtle influences from Bakura might have been noted. The people of Avalonia were as diverse as ever, between the Chiss and Echani some walked side by side as they headed down to the metrolines that ran beneath the city proper. Humans still made up the majority here, but even so - the sight of a Zelosian and the one or two Pantorans, perhaps a Mirialan here or there. Not too far from Governance Row laid Victory Park where those who enjoyed the brisk morning walk or jog could be seen.
As the motorcade pulled up toward the round about, various media outlets had already set themselves up. Avalonia was playing host to another diplomatic summit and they were quite proud to do so. Security was tight, just as it had been before, members of the First Imperial Army accompanied the Avalonian Constabulary and Stormtroopers served as walls of alabaster plastoid between the CIS delegation and any would be attackers. One by one they would be escorted up the steps and into Ambassador Hall where they would be led into the main conference room.
There awaiting the CIS Delegation, were members of the First Order's Moff Council, along with a special guest who requested to join - Mr. Bloodborn who had been there to help young Moff Ariel Yvarro bring the First Order back to its feet. Mr. Bloodborn's previous relations with the CIS aided in his being at the summit. Lastly, and perhaps most importantly Her Majesty the Supreme Leader also awaited the delegation. To say that the galaxy would be curious as to what the First Order and the Confederacy were to discuss, would be an understatement. Thus, began the summit, while the galaxy seemingly waited outside the room where it would happen.
Gerwald sat on the ship as it began its descent. No matter how many times he found himself flying in a steel trap, he had never quite gotten used to the feeling of it. His life on Stewjon had been simple, and there was something very unnatural about the ship to the wolf within. Yet, duty had called once more. Another power had risen in the galaxy, or as some would say, it had reemerged. This meant another delegation would be sent to come to terms with the First Order. Gerwald would provide security.
He was glad his role would be mostly background. A politician he was not. The wolf had always spoken his mind, and never coated his words with the pleasantries that others in his position might have. Gerwald was a warrior and a predator. He knew nothing of the fine dance which was the political playground he often found himself on more and more.
Perhaps this was why he was asked to accompany the politicians more and more. Whether it was heeded or not, when his council was sought, Gerwald seemed to feel as though it was was genuinely wanted. It also helped that at least one of the members of the delegation he was close to. Srina Talon
had been the one to save his life when a reckless and rash decision had left him on the brink of death. It was her efforts which had seen the damage to his mind restored, as well as the physical healing which was need. He owed much to the Echani.
This meeting, Gerwald was unsure of. He did not know what to expect. All he knew was that despite any offer for peace talks and diplomacy, one was unwise to travel without protection. The lupine's presence was specifically for that, as were the dozen or so Black Knight droids which accompanied them. They would remain where the First Order wished them to, but Gerwald would accompany his delegation all the way to the place of meeting.
There was a familiar scent on the air, a familial scent.
<<"Var...">> he reached out to his brother through the force before entering the room. It was a simple thought, a greeting, amicable. Gerwald did not hold any ill will toward his brother. Their sister on the other hand... he hoped it would be some time before their paths crossed again.
As the delegation entered at took their place, Gerwald came to stand behind those he was there to protect unless he was invited to take a seat at the table.
The motorcade drove into the roundabout with near-rehearsed precision.
The Confederate delegation had been well treated by the First Imperial Security teams and their representatives. Their needs and wants had been well met, all interactions had been prompt and respectful, it held all the beauty and luster of the political surface. Still, it was always what laid behind that elegant surface that gave Adron Malvern cause for suspicion. It was not that he could readily identify such actions or intentions, it was that experience had taught him that they were always there.
For the occasion the Exarch had chosen a suit with a subdued purple blazer and a striking black vest underneath. The emblem of The Confederacy of Independent Systems was in plain sight, pinned to his lapel with a metal button. Even on the transports within the motorcade there were a number of flags that flew the proud standard of their state. It was their pride and pleasure to serve The Confederacy after all, never did they allow others to forget their boisterous loyalty to the Souther Systems. When the motorcade came to a final halt, the Exarch turned his eyes to the window. They were keen amethyst orbs that absorbed all within their gaze. From where he sat he could see the Moff Council displayed as if a set of fine ornaments, crafted as a testament to the Bulwark government that led the First Order. At their center the Supreme Leader, a woman of elegance, mystery, and most importantly to Adron, danger.
He was eager to make her acquaintance.
Of course, she would not realize until he told her that the Vicelord would not be attending this summit. Instead it had been decided that Adron would serve as the head of the CIS delegation. His door came open and he abandoned the inner thoughts of his mind for the more pressing matters before him. He stepped from the speeder and turned his eyes to those around him. He quickly spied the form of Gerwald Lechner
, a senior member of the Knight's Obsidian who had been specifically picked out to serve as the head of Security for this meeting and representative of the Knightly Order that kept a balance of justice within the Confederacy. Adron regarded the man with a subtle nod before stepping forward.
At his side were John Locke
and Srina Talon
, Adron's closest partners and those who shared the mantle of Exarch. The wintry Echani woman and the cyborg statesman were two individuals Adron was glad to have at his side during this event. Not only for their political prowess but their martial might as well, in the event this summit is more than it seems. Close by, Faye Malvern stood beside her elder brother. Francesca's presence was necessary in all diplomatic matters as it was her office that officially drafted all foreign policy at the behest of the Vicelord, or in this case the Exarchs.
They would quickly close the gap between the motorcade and where the Supreme Leader and her council stood in preparation. Adron showed the group something of a warm smile before speaking in greeting. "Supreme Leader, it is an honor for The Confederacy to be welcomed to Avalonia once again. Unfortunately the Vicelord will not be joining us this evening. I am Exarch Adron Malvern and I will speak for the Office of the Vicelord for this Summit. With me are my cohorts, Exarch Srina Talon and Exarch John Locke. Also, the Minister of Influence and Foreign Affairs, Francesca Malvern. Gerwald Lechner is the lead for our Security Detail this evening and representative of the Knight's Obsidian."
The Exarch seemed to waste no time as he clasped his hands together. "With pleasantries out of the way I would like for us to begin immediately. Thank you." He insisted.
It's beginning to look a lot like Life Day, everywhere you go. Take a look at the sov and quid, it's glistening once again. With candy canes and gold lanes that glow. It's beginning to look a lot like Life Day, toys in every shop, but the prettiest sight to be is the holly that will be on your own front door.
The song ran over and over like an old long playing record in Ariel's mind, and in fairness the capitalist drive, the consumer focused economy that drove Dosuun had been everywhere for quite sometime. Ariel rose when the CIS delegation had arrived and smiled as the introductions were given. From introducing the Moffs that had been in attendance, to Mr. Bloodborn and Knight Lechner who had arrived on behalf of the First Imperial Knights. Finally, the Supreme Leader had been introduced and then the CIS delegation was introduced by their Exarch.
The Exarch apologized for the Vicelord, and so the meeting went forward. It seemed the Exarch had somewhere dire to be, so Ariel thought she would get straight to it. "Then to it we shall, here I recieved a small missive from the Office of the Vicelord wherein it is inquired if we could establish a trade agreement between our two nations, and there are a few things that we would like to discuss as well." She began and set forth the small data tablet with the information regarding a trade agreement. "I'd also be curious as to inquire what the Confederacy looks to gain out of this summit."
She wondered if outside of the trade agreement there was anything else to be gained here. Ultimately though it would be up to the Supreme Leader. It is after all, Her Majesty's Government and her word was final on all matters in the First Order. Curiously, Ariel looked between the Lechners as it was quite clear that they were brothers.
Faye had always loved the colours of autumn. Vibrant hues of yellow, orange, red and brown had always rung of home in her mind. People talked of the beauty of summer, but for Faye, true beauty lay in the slow change to fall. When the leaves were pocketed with splashes of colour, puckering as the chill in the air nipped at their roots. When the ground became littered with the ones that simply could not hold on any longer. A season that seemed to radiate a unified feeling of comfort across the entire galaxy.
The motorcade’s tinted windows did nothing to amplify the colours of fall. It made Faye rather miserable as it trucked slowly through the winding streets of Avalonia. What was the point of a window if you could not gaze out of it? She recalled attending the ball, vaguely. They all merged into one eventually, just like the meeting the motorcade headed toward. Faye admitted to her brother when he had revealed the plans to approach the First Order, her heart had sunk. There was no end to the long, unforgiving rooms dominated by tables and chairs. No ending to the talking, of statements, words, and promises that could not be trusted.
It was a dance she knew well, but one that had grown exceedingly tiring in recent days.
With the gentle tug on her belt signalling that the motorcade had stopped, Faye braced herself before stepping out. The flash of cameras and glaring lenses flickered off the blacked-out windows, which changed Faye’s opinion on them entirely. Adron went first, followed by the other Exarchs, then it was Faye’s turn. Thankfully, it was a short walk from the motorcade to the room where the meeting would take place.
Introductions were made, and the talking began.
A second woman the delegation now recognized as Ariel Yvarro sat forward to begin the discussions. Faye was immediately pleased. Women tended to possess cooler heads in these types of situations. There were many times that she could cut the tension in the Viceroy chambers with a damp sponge. Or feel the anger in the pits of stomachs in a bid to fight for what they justified as rightful condemnation. Thus far, she could count the number of level-headed male politicians she knew of on one hand. So, when Ariel began to speak, Faye offered her a warm smile.
She waited until her sentence had come to completion and then spoke herself. “Exarch Malvern is far too hasty, and I believe there is always time for pleasantries. Myself, my fellow delegates, and the Confederacy expresses its thanks to the First Order, and your Supreme Leader, for agreeing to meet with us today.” As pleasant as she would like to be, Adron was right. They had spent their time enjoying Avalonia thoroughly, but now it was time for business.
As she reached across the table to retrieve the data tablet, she responded to Ariel’s question. “I'm pleased you asked, a topic far better discussed before the subject of trade agreements. We would like to extend a formal contract of neutrality between the First Order and ourselves.” Faye took a quick glance down at the data displayed in blinding blue light, before sliding it over to Adron. Numbers and trade routes were his forte, Faye’s lay in the words that still rang in her ears. “Considering an impending trade agreement, it only seems right. We’re certain that this would be of mutual gain to both the Confederacy and the First Order.”
As the woman began to speak, the Exarch merely inclined his head to his sister. He had absolutely no intention of breaching the realm of her duties without due cause. When Francesca spoke up, the Exarch could not help but show her a very knowing smile, the kind of smile that bordered on a smirk, the kind of smile only an older brother could bestow upon his sister. He placed a single finger along his temple while his eyes remained firmly fastened on the First Imperial delegation. As Francesca spoke, the Exarch nodded in agreeance. An official declaration of neutrality existed merely so each entity had a firm understanding of where the other stood.
When Faye slid the datapad over to Adron, his hand came down from his temple to take the device into his hands. Amethyst eyes gazed from one end of the datapad to the other, yet his expression did not falter, not even once. He set the device back on the table before glancing over to Faye.
"The Confederacy has no reason not to enter into a commerce agreement with the First Order. So long as we are given certain assurances that your borders will never supersede our own." He said, simply.
The Exarch returned his eyes to the datapad, clicking through it briefly before turning his eyes back to the young Moff. "In the event any grievances are formed between the two of us then we will meet in the same manner as we have today to settle them." He explained, before gesturing to his sister so she may take care of the conversation from there.
Either blisteringly hot, agonizingly cold, or hellacious storms. She wasn’t fond of the tepid in-between states that others found agreeable simply because it lacked anything invigorating. It was boring. There was a soft exquisiteness to be found in witnessing autumnal scenery bleed together from the tinted-windows of their designated hover-craft, but her gaze inevitably waned as they passed.
How could it not?
Diplomacy in all its necessary splendor was not a gift that Srina believed she possessed. Despite everyone informing her of the contrary. She spoke plainly. Bluntly. Most either thought her impersonal, arrogant, or irreparably insolent. The truth was complicated. Srina viewed others in ways that most wouldn’t think to, dare to, if only because that abstract perspective allowed her to perceive the whole. She could never debate in terms of the singular. There was no “I” in her decisions. It was always “We” when the sword fell. When the Viceroyalty cast their votes. When the Vicelord made a particular call—It was for the collective. She spoke not for herself but the citizens that her presence had come to reflect.
She was not herself. It made her strong as stone; but it also made her enigmatically distant.
The silvery woman would have likely arrived late, separately, were in not for Adron Malvern
smoothly and efficiently reminding her of the event. Their work was never done. He had even gone so far as to arrange a selection of proper attire. If the Coronation Ball was an example of the expectations of their hosts, she was certain that plain Obsidian Strike armor would not do. She was comfortable in familiar hexagonal patterns and armor that fit like a glove. Finery and mercifully plain silver charms that dangled from elegantly scrolled ears felt like a hazard. Silver eyes glanced down, briefly, at the hands that sat innocuously in her lap.
She felt that she would be more competent hidden amongst the Knights Obsidian. Carrying a sword. Instead, she was bare, without even the smallest blade, and in a rather unfair exchange, words would be her weapon of choice. The wintry Echani looked and felt the part of endless composure and cultured grace; but that was the Exarch. The Dread Queen. Not, Srina Talon.
She could never be her. Never, be that. Not a simple, unimportant, genetically altered near-human that had grown up training with her siblings. Using small practice swords, still, almost too heavy for their hands to hold. That person didn’t exist. It wasn’t simply for the benefit of the First Order or the Supreme Leader. It was because, in the end, the entirety of the galaxy was watching, both here, and abroad. Perception was often far more important than reality. This was most definitely one of those moments. Her face schooled itself into skillful silence and the few, quiet emotions she exhibited, washed themselves clean. Pure, severe, and as prepossessing as the first rays of dawn.
When the door opened to their vehicle she wished, briefly, that Darth Empyrean
could have been present. They often had vastly differing opinions when it came to politics and the general state of governing powers, however, there was something uniquely comforting about such dichotomous thinking. He would never agree with her; simply to agree. His thoughts were his own and she appreciated that more than he would ever know.
This was one event, sadly, that he could not follow.
Srina seemed to glide just a few feet behind Adron, beside John Locke
, at a perfectly measured pace. Every movement was deliberate. No energy wasted. Her lips might have flickered in vague amusement when the Illyrian King seemed all too eager to get started. He was, more than anything, equal parts curious and wary about the Supreme Leader. It was no small wonder. Her head inclined respectfully when her name was mentioned to the First Order delegation in polite introduction. She noted familiar faces.
Familiar bloodlines. She knew what it was like to have a sibling estranged. Several, actually.
Gerwald Lechner
and Varick Lechner
were an interesting flavor to an otherwise professional opening. She knew Gerwald very well. She had never met Varick. It left her with no less than a dozen apprehensions, considering, that sanity was not a gift that all members of his family held. She could remember one in particular. Still. Srina was never one to judge too quickly.
“Mr. Bloodborn.”, she greeted lightly, almost soundlessly, and without the evolution of conversation. He had been one of the first members of the Confederacy she had met so very long ago. Somewhere between the disastrous Golbah Games and the Exodus on Eshan…Things had changed. She did not know if Kurayami Bloodborn
was still the man she had once known. Just as Kainan Wolfe
had become someone she no longer recognized—Time altered all.
Ariel Yvarro was a young woman she recognized from the Coronation Ball. Her speech that had been neither too short, nor too long, had left a positive impression. She had pride in the First Order. Faith. Equal to what they held within the Confederacy. Faith, pride, and beliefs were incredibly powerful tools when wielded by hands that knew their worth. Srina believed beyond a shadow of a doubt that Moff Yvarro knew. This made her twice as interesting. Respectfully, twice as dangerous.
It was for that reason that she remained quiet while Faye Malvern stepped into her designated role. She had a softer approach than her elder brother, though, none should be fooled. There was a will of iron behind such winsome features and charming words. The query that Moff Yvarro made was fair. It was also fair that the Confederacy ask the same, though, it should be quite clear.
They hadn’t come for blood. Neither side seemed to desire open hostilities. All of the posturing, spectacle, and excellently arranged meetings boiled down to one simple thing.
What was best for their nation?
Adron stepped in again. Still, Srina said nothing.
Silver eyes pierced the assembled politicians without apology or shame. Her expression was empty, clear, and sharp as only glass could be. She had not yet come to full terms about the First Order. She had expressed as such to Maliphant at the Coronation Ball. He thought that their time in the sun had faded into the annuls of history where it would, once again, be buried. Srina, found strength in their resurgence. With that—She simply did not have the information required to decide their path one way or the other. This was why she listened and her tongue remained still. She was slow to choose. Nothing was ever exactly as it appeared to be. Yet, the Exarch would gain clarity.
Every word, every response, aided in that endeavor. It was only a matter of time.
Sorry for the wait, and, the length. I'm really rusty at the moment and haven't written a post in about a month due to work but wanted to hop in....
Kurayami was standing near the entrance, awaiting the arrival of their esteemed guests. Mostly he was here due to helping retake Dosuun and his ties to the CIS. He had never cut ties with them, nor any within their ranks as he'd had no reason to do so. Factions mattered little to the man he'd long ago stopped giving a damn about borders and who said what. Politics bored him to no end and he was only here in an advisory capacity for all intents and purposes. He had no reason to get all fancied up for this meeting and it showed. Black slacks with the red stippling of a Corellian first class bloodstripe down either leg, well-worn black leather combat boots polished to whatever degree they could be, his standard utility belt with empty holsters, a plain white t-shirt, and his old Aquila Squadron leather flight jacket. His saber was held in a specially made pouch on his utility belt, but was well out of sight. He had enough sense to not try and fight here, it was simply due to the emotional connection that he still carried it.
Still he stood, silent, sipping from his flask when he got a ping on his datapad. Who needed to message him now? Maybe NSD had something to ask him about an order? Whatever it was, he placed the flask back in the inner breast pocket of his jacket and pulled his datapad out to check. A message from his cousin. A warning to be more precise...not to trust the motives of Metus or his ilk. Most interesting. The Corellian narrowed his eyes as he closed the message and put the datapad away as he returned to his drinking for the time being.
It seemed an eternity, though it was likely only a few minutes before he saw speeders with deeply tinted windows pull up. He stood and made his way back inside the meeting room putting the flask away once more. He remained standing in the meeting room watching as those who were to do politicking re-read and got everything in order as best they could. It was not strange to him to see the CIS representatives escorted in. No, that was not strange to him in the least. What did strike him as a bit odd was the fact that one of the addressed him. One of the higher ups in fact, Srina Talon
. She would see the flash of a quick smirk right before he replied to her in an even tone, though perhaps what would be considered too informal for such a gathering, but the discussions hadn't started just yet. Thank the Force for that. "Srina." After speaking the single word the smirk would fade from his face as he prepared himself for a likely endless amount of circumlocution and back and forth about trade deal, borders, what would or wouldn't be considered an act of aggression, so on and so forth ad infinitum.
If she truly remembered the man then it would be easy to tell that he had not changed too greatly since their last meeting, even his aura in the Force was similar. He was still a pilot-for-hire, though he did have a very nice contract with FIolette as of right now. Besides, the First Order let him train some of their TIE pilots so it wasn't a bad gig, just not really an official part of the military structure of the First Order. That was how he preferred things as it allowed him the freedom to take other contracts without fear of repercussion as long as those contracts did not interfere with his existing line of work.
He let his mind wander over the time spent with both factions that were gathered at this table. Pretty wild ride to get to where he was now. He listened as introductions were taken care of and as the discussions began in earnest leading him to scan the table of delegates, his gaze lingering only moments on each participant. Much like the Dread Queen in white, he was for the moment naught but a silent observer. Though she was the only one whom he knew well enough to have any level of trust in from the CIS' side of things. The others he was still extremely wary of no matter what their tone implied. There was always an undercurrent with politics and it was rarely a good thing.
Renata smiled across the table at Adron Malvern
. "To business, then. I admire a direct approach." Renata took up her seat and listened to the rest of what Malvern had to say. She nodded her head in agreement. "The First Order is respectful of all our neighbors' sovereignty, including the sanctity of their borders and, of course, we expect the same in return. So you'll find no trouble from us in that regard, I can assure you." The First Order was not in the habit of interfering in the business of other nations, and she didn't think they were about to start now.
"I wonder," said the Foreign Secretary thoughtfully. "The First Order is rather isolated in this end of the galaxy. I don't need to tell you that our access to the markets across the galaxy depends upon the hyperlanes that can move goods and people. We would hope that any agreement would involve access to the hyperlanes that pass through your country in order to deliver and pick up trade goods both to your markets and to markets in other parts of the galaxy."
She clasped her hands, lacing her fingers together as she looked from face to face of the other delegation. "We are also hoping to secure an agreement to move along these routes for humanitarian purposes. As you are well aware, the Bryn'adul threat and ongoing conflicts have created countless refugees and will, I'm sure, continue to displace millions more. The First Order is interested in taking a direct role in reaching out to these refugees. We have secured agreements with other governments for these efforts, but obviously a direct route would make it all that much more efficient." She spread her hands and looked across the table at the CIS group. "Thoughts?"
Ariel listened and observed as representatives from the Confederacy spoke. She inclined her head slightly as Renata spoke and then jotted down a note or two in her datapad. She kept her expressions neutral as the Exarch spoke, part of her wondered if there was a reason why he was as vague as he was. Ariel wrote down how Renata responded and examined the responses. She thought about what the other woman, another Malvern had said regarding business.
When there was a small pause, the Home Secretary wrote down a question regarding the neutrality policy and trade agreement. She then interjected, "if I might ask, what would the Confederacy's policies be toward this proposed act of neutrality? How would this impact our efforts to help those in need, if it impacts us at all?" Ariel wondered if there might be a more direct answer from the Confederacy's delegation on the matter, rather than another vague answer.
It hadn't been lost on the young woman that Mr. Bloodborn had addressed the other Exarch as he did. She quietly looked between one then another and wrote down another note on her datapad with her stylus. She'd like to get Mr. Bloodborn's observations of the meeting written down, after it had concluded, of course.
Someone at the back of the room, standing upright with their arms tucked behind their back, spoke. It was a deep rumbling acknowledgement of Exarch Talon, but Faye paid it little attention. Whoever it was added nothing to the conversation at the table.
Another woman spoke, mentioning the First Order’s desire to make use of their hyperlanes. That was not exactly neutrality, but their reasoning was justified enough. If a trade agreement was to be made, then Faye could find no negative impact in allowing them to travel for relief purposes too. Perhaps an arrangement such as this would lead to a more beneficial relationship between the two factions in the future.
“I can think of no impact this agreement would have upon your efforts to aid refugees. On the contrary, in fact.”Faye leant forward slightly in her seat, to catch the eye of the blonde woman who had spoken originally. “The Confederacy would be more than willing to allow the First Order use of their hyperlanes for trade, and for the aid, you wish to provide. To add to this, I will investigate providing priority access to First Order ships using the hyperlanes for relief efforts, if at all possible. We only ask that all your vessels and their crews adhere to our laws during travel through our space and that they are appropriately registered, of course.”
Faye then turned her head back to Ariel, whose question she had already answered in part. “As I have outlined to your colleague, neutrality would have no impact at all upon your charitable efforts. I’m sure we can all agree, personal aspersions and opinions aside, the Galaxy must be united when it comes to helping those less fortunate than ourselves. As for the act of neutrality itself, it would be the very definition of neutrality. We have no interest in impacting the First Order’s vision for its future, just as I imagine you have no interest in impacting ours.”
“In short, it is a formal agreement of non-aggression. If our respective borders are never superseded as Exarch Malvern said, then we see no valid reason for the First Order and the Confederacy to have a negative relationship.” At this point, Faye slid a hand into her own pocket and produced a datapad of similar size to the one Ariel had given them earlier. As she slid it across the table with the tip of her fingers, she continued. “The only exception to this non-aggression pact would be if we set out to attack one of your allies, or vice versa, and you were expected to rise to their defence. The agreement on the datapad is a basic neutrality agreement. Special stipulations and addendums such as the trade and relief agreement will be added and approved by both sides before we sign officially.”
Sorry for the delay guys! Hope everyone had a merry Christmas and Santa brought you lovely things!
As always Adron's younger sister was comfortable in her element. The world of diplomacy was a difficult one to navigate yet Francesca made it seem as natural as breathing. As she spoke of an agreement of neutrality, Adron nodded at her words understandably. Still there was one thing left on his mind that would have to be addressed before this initial meeting could come to a conclusion. He remained silent until his sister completed her thoughts and then he spoke up, mostly in response to Renata Westaway and her inquiries on utilization of hyperlanes. "As the Minister has stated this is all possible. We are not interested in halting or slowing the First Order's commerce networks. In fact, I can assure that priority networks for those ships engaging in aid and relief efforts." He said, however his tone trailed off as if to continue.
"Recent years have shown that our Security within our space has been too lax. So the First Order, like the rest of the galaxy, will have the burden of adjusting to our newer policies." He said simply.
"That is why all ships registered through the First Order will be given specialized transponder beacons. While traveling through Confederate space these beacons will remain activated so that we can remain appraised on all First Order assets within our space. Once the ship has exited our space then it may deactivate and uninstall the beacon. Any of your ships that do travel into our space without these beacons may be impounded and the pilot and crew detained until they can be verified by our Security Division." He explained, before gesturing to his sister once again. "If this is agreeable to you then Minister Malvern can begin drawing up the official paperwork and we may conclude this meeting."
Renata considered the Exarch's proposal. Tracker beacons, while an inelegant solution, were a fairly simple one. It was troublesome, giving another government insight into where their vessels were at any given time, but on the other hand Renata was a proponent that having nothing to fear meant having nothing to hide, but she was also concerned that these devices might prove disruptive, or to do more than intended -- like infect the First Order and its trade vessels with malware or be always-on, giving the Confederacy unfettered access to the ship locations at all times.
"I think we can tentatively agree to these terms," said Renata slowly, her gaze lingering on Malvern for a moment. "Contingent, of course, on the First Order Corps of Imperial Engineers examining these devices and ensuring their... functionality and compatibility with our vehicles and operating systems." She spread her hands. "Naturally, reciprocity would be expected. What's good for the goose, et cetera." She smiled broadly.
Signing such an agreement would not bind them to anything; the First Order would be under no obligation to install the trackers if they chose not to operate within Confederacy space, and vice versa. The obligations would attach when they were within the territorial space of others. Her gaze fell to her colleagues along the table. "Unless my colleagues have any objections..."
Her gaze lingered on Kurayami Bloodborn
for several moments longer than would have been considered appropriate by polite society. He openly nursed some form of liquor as he always had. Thinking back on it now, she couldn’t remember a single time she had seen him without some sort of beverage in hand or a flask. Maybe, with a little Namana Nectar. Strangely enough, his proclivities rarely seemed to impact his ability as a pilot. Sadly…She had learned the hard way not to fall into the trap of trusting most entities. No matter their intent, or history. It made her travels exceedingly lonely…But not even a Force Bond ensured loyalty. Srina had questions. Concerns. But, now was not the time.
At the very least she felt a forbidden seed of hope unearth itself as the mercenary addressed her by her first name. Informal. Perhaps, Kurayami had remembered that she preferred that. No matter her title, her station, there would always be some part of her that demanded her given name more than any honorific. Even more than being referred to as “Darth” which, certainly, would appall some of her mentors. It was not behavior befitting an Exarch but it was the only minuscule shard of rebellion she allowed.
Otherwise, she had to remain distant. Untouchable.
The ‘round the table’ negotiations moved forward swiftly and without delay. She enjoyed expediency; but she was also aware of delivery. The Confederacy had not traveled this far West simply to bandy about useless words and empty platitudes. At least, she hadn’t. She wanted to know of the nation that was rapidly expanding, very much so, close to home. It pleased her quietly that the subject of high-level agreements had strayed from the typical formula of reciprocity or an act of good-faith in the form of land, or space, for peace. The situation with Atrisia and Abregado-Rae still weighed heavily. It always would. She questioned if the correct call had been made; Or if there had been another way.
The arrangement that Adron Malvern
and Faye Malvern set forth seemed very similar to the contract that she had first enacted with The Sith Empire in what felt like eons prior. In Confederate Archives, it was known as the Kessel Accords. To this day, though, the formality of the non-aggression pact seemed to have dissolved naturally it still retained the desired effect. A reduction of tension between their nations, even, a working relationship that allowed a profitable and safe continuance versus the hounds of hell remaining at bay simply due to a piece of paper.
Silver eyes flickered to Renata Westaway, though, she held her tongue for a moment. It was easier for her to express what rolled through her mind over a dojo mat versus a wooden table. “The Confederacy has…”, Srina paused, her voice carrying through the hall easily, as if her words had wings, despite the fact that it was little more than a pin drop. The glacier tone contained neither hubris nor animosity—But remained devoid of warmth or basic human sentiment. It was the voice of someone who was used to being heard; even, when she had said nothing at all. “…anticipated reservations in regards to utilizing our technology on your vessels. Any nation, large or small, would be remiss not to. In that regard, we will see that your efforts in due diligence are transparently facilitated. The schematics for the beacons can be forwarded preemptively for examination, as well as live models. You will find that they are designed for security, to track flight plans within our sphere, and nothing more.”
No. There were no “hidden” explosives or kill codes embedded. It was true that John Locke
was certainly capable of creating something with that intent—But there was no need. The main focus had been wrapped around ensuring that such devices were marked, registered, and tamper-proof. Moff Westaway had not insinuated as such but the faint pause had not gone entirely unnoticed…And the Exarch did not find fault in any perceived reluctance. Srina breathed in deeply before releasing a delicate sigh. The bantha in the room during any negotiation these days seemed to circle around Confederacy First. She could feel it, in the relative quiet, even now.
“I am not as tactful as my companions nor do I believe that my strengths lie in diplomatic endeavors. The Confederacy, rather, the Vicelord disagrees.”, she offered, with the less than understated admission that she thought herself to be ill-suited for the task at hand. It was quite possible that Adron would scald her ears later on, though, he would forgive her. He always did. “Should Confederate services require passage through territory maintained by the First Order—We will observe any restrictions that may apply. True respect is not assigned through documents and contracts. It is not imposed, nor is it begged. It is earned, and through act, and deed, proven.”
“I do not expect glowing appraisals after our departure. In fact, I expect the opposite. We have many who occupy high-ranking governmental positions that openly refer to themselves as Sith. In the wake of terrorist attacks on our nation, we have, indeed, become far more insular. The existence of Confederacy First would lead most to spin a web about how we have turned our backs on the rest of galaxy. In truth, we have not. We have turned inward out of necessity. As Minister Malvern stated previously…We would never impede humanitarian efforts. We do not turn relief ships away.
Our alteration in foreign policy was due to a vital lesson that was hard learned. By proxy, so have these experiences shaped the chambers of our Viceroy and the duties we uphold. As you have known loss; so, have we. We were delivered the exact price for over-extending our resources. It was a debt that was unwillingly paid in the blood of the people of Rodia. Of Ryloth. We cannot help others, if we cannot help ourselves.”
Her eyes closed for a moment before her hands moved to precisely clasp in her lap. The mere memory of the lives that had been claimed in the false name of liberation was enough to make the invisible weight on her shoulders grow, intensely, but she would neither bend nor break. Ever. When she looked up once more her gaze landed briefly on Ariel Yvarro. Silence was the trade that Srina found favor in. Silence was golden. But this negotiation felt stagnant. Incomplete. She would not leave Avalonia with her obligations seemingly only partially met. “I am uncertain if we fully answered the question that Moff Yvarro posed about what we wish to gain. Certainly, mutual economic gain. Yes. The continued sanctity of our western borders. But in truth?”
“War is here. It is present and it has been for quite some time. We bear no ill-will toward the resurgence of your order and see no need for our nations to clash. You will have what is required, within reason, as we strive to provide our citizens with safety and security. This summit is part of that. These are not state secrets that I share. You all have eyes, ears, and every nation has its emissaries spread throughout the verse.
From this…It should be more than obvious that amity is the commodity we seek.”
The snowy-white haired woman fell silent for a moment. She spoke with clarity and confidence because above all else the Echani warrior was honest. Logical. Brutally, so. “I realize that our words are simply that. Words. The reality is that the Confederacy has just as much to lose as the First Order should our negotiations fail. Perhaps, not in trade, but there are far more important things.”
Like the encroaching threats from the east.
Srina would have advised, truthfully, that both sides think it through for at least the evening to discern if there was anything else of import. What was the hurry? It wasn’t as if anything could be truly solidified without others weighing in. The Exarchs spoke with the voice and authority of the Vicelord. She did not know if the First Order worked the same way, though, given appearances, she fully doubted it. The best arrangements always tended to follow a pattern. Simple, cohesive, balanced, and flexible. Rarely, however, did outcomes become what they were wished to be. Hope and faith made for terrible diplomacy, in her mind. All that mattered was commerce. Give and take. They needn’t have faith in one another from across the table.
Only the appropriate set of rules to abide by and full knowledge of consequences if broken.
When he had been younger John had imagined sitting at the tables of kings and emperors, had imagined great feats of oratory and political intrigue that would shake the galaxy. Cunning strategies and insights the likes of which were portrayed in the stories and holodramas he’d watched. There was something about the vision of one man standing alone before a hostile senate and winning them over with his words, with the power of his vision that was stirring and epic. To the child, it had been a galaxy filled with wonder and potential, with vast galaxy sweeping plots and plans. A game of chess writ large against the stars.
Then he’d grown up.
Grown out of daydreams and holodramas to find that the real world was nothing like the fairytales that he’d imagined. Oh, there was the intrigue and drama, the silent whetting of knives and political jostling, that existed. In every space from the meanest bar to the loftiest ballroom, from the mayor’s office all the way up to the heights of galactic senates there was scheming and politicking without end. John had seen it all, had seen gangsters and socialites all circling like sharks when they scented blood in the water.
He’d witnessed Jedi confuscate and try to worm their way out of situations, sheen them ignore and gloss over that which should not, could not be forgiven. By the same measure, he’d witnessed Sith be more forthright and honest than their reputations would suggest. Seen them fight and bleed in the name of justice, in causes that weren’t their own. It was a strange world they lived in.
He wouldn’t have it any other way.
Though...perhaps he’d been approaching it wrong. Dark eyes observed the white-haired woman next to him thoughtfully, perhaps he shouldn’t have been looking for oratory tricks to change the world. The honest truth seemed to be far more effective. Maybe it was worth a shot.
“I know the quality of your engineers and shipwrights, their capabilities. I’m sure they’ll be able to understand the blueprints without any difficulty, but if you have questions about the beacons, their design or use then I’m happy to make myself available to answer them. I would never allow someone to install a piece of technology on my ship that I didn’t understand, didn’t trust. I wouldn’t expect you to either, but they truly are designed to slot in with minimal effort and inconvenience. And be uninstalled just as easily.”
One hand came up, gesturing outside at the motorcade that had brought them here as a soft smile touched John’s lips.
“You, more than anyone, understand the need for security, a lesson that we learned through far too much pain. Too many lives lost, too many lives that depended on us. None of us want another planet to suffer in the same way, to feel that loss again. No-one should ever have to go through that.”
Honesty right? Dark eyes settled on the face of the foreign minister, a small incline of the Exarch’s head.
“You mentioned refugees, of the humanitarian aid you would provide to the victims of the Bryn’adul rampages. You have already been assured that we will not impede your passage, prevent you from aiding those in need. I can think of few better causes to unite behind, but I’ve seen what happens when massive numbers of refugees start flowing, attracting pirates and worse. Those beacons, at least within our space, will help to provide some safety, some security for your relief ships and the souls they’re carrying to a better life.”
“I don’t ask that you trust us, just as we have the safety and security of our citizens at the forefront of our minds so do you. Actions speak louder than words, So, give us the chance to show you the truth of our words. That we don’t seek to impede you, that we don’t seek conflict with you but...”
A head inclined at Srina.
“That we seek amity. Friendship and security, for our citizens and yours.”
The Home Secretary listened to what was being said and unsaid, she pushed her lips to the side. There was an awful lot riding on such small devices, and there was talk of amity. Something that had not been earned, she started to suspect that the Confederacy and the Sith Empire had that in common. Expecting something, for nothing. The Confederacy had not earned anything from the First Order and the reverse was true as well. Yet, here they were in Avalonia damn near demanding if not outright attempting to coerce the First Order into installing devices that could very well inform the Confederacy of every nuanced detail of their naval forces.
"Pardon me," interjected Moff Yvarro, "but you'll forgive me if I don't seem so thrilled with the prospect of a foreign device installed on any of our naval assets." She took a breath and exhaled a way to clear her thoughts she looked at those gathered, surveyed their expressions for a moment longer before continuing on. "You speak of amity, and yet neither nation has done anything to prove to one another that we are amicable. Surely, yes, this summit is a step toward such relations."
Outside of that - nothing had been done.
"You are all placing a lot of value on one small device and while your intentions might be as you say are..." her thoughts trailed off she had hoped they could fill in the blanks for themselves. "For our citizens and yours," she repeated Locke's words and pushed her lips to the side. Why did that sound like such a crock of bantha dung? He sounded like a used shuttle salesman trying to reassure the prospect that what he was selling her wasn't a load of dung, when it was. "Am I to understand that this act of neutrality hinges on these devices?" If that's the case then this was a complete waste of everyone's time. Ariel under no circumstances would allow her nation's naval assets to be placed under a microscope of another.
The only thing that was obvious as the Echani called it, was one nation was seeking to control the other. The First Order would not be controlled, Ariel had given the Confederacy the benefit of a doubt by in large due to Mr. Bloodborn's relations with them and reassurances that this would not be a waste of her time. Second to this was the Confederacy's stance when it came to her mother and that her mother was allowed to have shelter in their borders. "Then you shall leave one of such devices here and give us time to look them over, I also want a physically signed agreement from your party to assure us that these will not be altered in any format and shall not be used to scan, investigate or otherwise detail to you the nature of our vessels outside that they are our own. Alternatively, you can simply register our vessels into your IFF transponders to know when and where we are anytime within your sphere of influence. Now, again, if you are as - it seems so, so eager to sell us on these devices."
"Then as I've mentioned, there should be no problem in leaving one here, and when we are done looking them over. We shall call you and reconvene this summit at a later date, perhaps this time on Naboo."
The words were stated plainly while Moff Yvarro seemed to bring forward many issues in regards to the tracking beacons that were proposed. She couldn’t have known what passed through the mind of the decidedly waspish young woman, though, she could take an educated guess. Srina was not a political genius like many others in the room; but she hadn’t been born yesterday. She knew people and recognized that it would be a tough pill to swallow. “Your concerns are noted, though, I find your statements both true and false. Perspective, pending.”
“The higher echelon of the Confederacy arrived to the Coronation in accordance with the restrictions on the invitation. While the Force was suppressed—We all know that there were individuals present capable of liberating the heads of their enemies from their shoulders with or without it. This is not a threat. Merely, fact. We believed that the offer of civility paved by the First Order would stand true and acted accordingly. We arrived here today, in the same manner. You have agreed to meet and speak with us today, hopefully, plainly. Our collective steps are small.”
“Certainly, not the grand display of a Triumvirate or a Pact—But they are, nevertheless, steps forward.”
Regardless of what passed between them, nor, what vague sense of irritation and distrust may have passed from the representatives across the table the pale Echani would exude none of it. It wasn’t that she didn’t hold a passion for her nation, nor her position, but simply because she had no motives that were not plain. The largest reason she was a poor diplomat?
She did not lie.
Srina would only speak when there seemed to be a break in the dialogue that flowed lest she rudely cut off their hosts. She did spare a curious glance to John Locke
, however, at the mention of a positive outcome hinging on an electronic device. It seemed a strange question to her but given the fact that it had been presented—Valid. “I am under the impression that this is an introductory discussion. If our terms cannot be agreed upon, I assume, that our work has only just begun.”
Another suggestion passed in regard to IFF transponders and she nodded her head slowly. It was something to consider. The beacons were supposed to be tamper-proof, however, that didn’t necessarily mean that was true. The terrorist attacks that had shaken the Confederacy to the core had left them overly wary, especially, when forming new relations with nations. There were many unanswered questions and many things that they did not fully understand about their new neighbor. “Whether or not the First Order chooses to accept the beacon implementation we will leave a few in your possession as well as the schematics for your perusal. As stated previously—They are exactly what they appear to be. Nothing more, nothing less.”
Though it seemed that the talk of security measures had soured this potential summit to the point of needing to reschedule for a later time; Srina did not yet move. The dismissal was all but there but she wasn’t quite finished. “We would also like to bridge the gap further between our people and create a space of safety, information, and any official dealings that don’t need to be handled by the head of state. An embassy, of sorts.”
Srina shifted in the chair and tilted her head to consider what the most beneficial location might be.
“You could request a specific territory but I would suggest, for solidarity, that it be placed on Naboo. Would that be of interest?”
Darth Metus
|
Srina Talon
|
John Locke
|
Gerwald Lechner
|
Adron Malvern
| Faye Malvern 
Natasi Fortan
| Ariel Yvarro |
Varick Lechner
|
Kurayami Bloodborn
| Renata Westaway 
