Kayrce; the Chiss who had more recently been noted by members of the senate as the shadow constantly behind the Malastare senator, was already at the table as Ravion entered the office of his Naboo based manor house. He noted her holo-screens fanned out around her in a geometric bloom of blue light. Ravion often wondered whether she liked mornings because they washed her complexion in pale gold, or because they afforded her the only time she wasn't required to wear an expression.
"You're early," he commented, shedding his dyed-ceremonial jacket over the back of his chair and pressing a small switch to allow the blind that were casting darkness across the room to allow the morning dawn to creep in.
"I was awake," she replied simply. Her red eyes flickered toward him. "And you said we needed the preliminary data ready by dawn."
She was always efficient. Already she had dived into the Outbound Flight Project. The Republic's grand attempt to fling itself beyond explored space, it was an act half visionary, half desperate. A statement to the galaxy that even in times of political fragility, they still had the courage to look outward.
And it was an opportunity, Ravion knew, to change the board.
"Show me," he said.
At her gesture, the holos converged into a single image. The Outbound Fleet Manifest. Hundreds of pages worth of draft roles, crew designations, scientific positions, diplomatic liaisons, volunteer colonists, defence specialists. A staggering undertaking.
But Ravion's eyes fixed on a smaller, newer category that had appeared in recent revisions; Senatorial Representatives (Limited).
He did not smile, not outwardly at least; but something coiled pleasantly in his chest.
"Finally," he murmured, "the Republic gives us a lever."
"It is not yet confirmed."
"It will be," he said. "The Emergency Committee wants Outbound Flight protected from accusations of secrecy. A handful of senators onboard makes it look accountable."
"And exploitable."
"Exactly."
He paced once, hands clasped behind his back. Naboo would be required to assign someone. That alone was not enough. The High Council would expect a volunteer, someone competent, respected, likely to uphold the Republic's values.
But the Article of Magistration, the very same set of laws currently under debate due to Aurelian Veruna's increasingly tenuous position as acting Chancellor, included a subsection most senators never paid attention to:
A representative may retain their senatorial authority while serving temporarily abroad, so long as the function is deemed an extension of Republic service.
Outbound Flight qualified. Which meant, A senator could be sent away without losing his seat.
If that certain senator was from Naboo? Ravion's mind began to trace lines. Naboo's Senate delegation would become mostly symbolic in their absence, leaving a vacuum in their influential voting bloc. Ravion could align with or exploit the resulting instability as needed.
And Dominic; dutiful, earnest, keen to be seen Dominic, well he would never suspect it.
"Kayrce," Ravion said quietly, "let's begin."
The first step was simple, all they had to do was create momentum.
Ravion's had taken to writing blogs about his journey as a Senator within the High Republic, and its readers; a carefully curated mix of political loyalists, mid-tier bureaucrats, and the everyday people who liked to feel important but weren't, they always loved visionary rhetoric. So he drafted an entry about the promise of the Outbound Flight Project.
Making sure that his words were elegant enough to sound patriotic, yet vague enough to conceal motive. He had to make sure they were perfect.
He published it, watched it as it started to circulate through the minor morning news-spheres, and then calmly he immediately turned off his notifications. The public was useful, but it was often a noisy distraction.
After all, the real work would begin in the shadows.
Kayrce had compiled a list of all senators who had expressed praise for the Outbound Flight initiative. Dominic Praxon of Naboo appeared exactly where Ravion expected, firmly supportive, but cautious at the higher cost. He did always strike him as the kind of man who believed in the Republic yet had the good sense to read each line of a budget report.
It was all lining up far too easily, Dominic would be his ideal candidate for this accidental duty to the cause.
"Now we begin seeding the narrative," Ravion said.
Kayrce nodded once and moved with mechanical precision. Messages, all anonymous or ambiguously sourced, began drifting through the bureaucratic undercurrent:
Harmless questions. Offhand remarks. But in the Republic, and the wider galaxy whispers grew into winds quickly. Winds that if one knew how to shape could be devastating.
Ravion knew Dominic wouldn't respond immediately. He would assume the rumours were mere speculation. He would wait for an official request.
Ravion was already making sure that request was already on its way. However the hardest part of that plan was making it look organic.
The planned Outbound Flight slots were limited; many of the names had already been locked into place on the creation of the project, and each participating system could nominate only one senator to attach to the diplomatic core of it. Many worlds had obvious candidates. Naboo did not. There was Briana Sal-Soren or one of the Jedi ilk, but they were too high profile and too essential, besides Ravion already had plans for the Sal-Sorens. That left many of the other senatorial adjuncts, yet they were too old, too inexperienced, or too politically compromised.
Dominic Praxon was, by quiet, conveniently constructed process of elimination; the "only logical choice."
Kayrce had laid the groundwork perfectly. Using a network of junior clerks with more ambition than sense, she delivered a set of "projected efficiency values" that argued strongly in favour of diplomatic representation aboard the mission.
Notably:
Which was simply a polite way of saying that he is popular, he is trusted, and he will not sabotage the initiative.
Ravion reviewed it all, every bit of information that scrolled before them tapping his ring lightly against the desk.
"Do you think he will suspect manipulation?" Kayrce asked quietly from her position behind him.
"He might suspect pressure," Ravion admitted with a shrug. "But not manipulation. Praxon is earnest to a fault. He sees meaning where others see manoeuvre."
Kayrce considered that. "He's idealistic."
"He's inconvenient," Ravion corrected. "Which is why he must be elsewhere."
But one thing remained, they needed plausible necessity. A reason Dominic could not publicly refuse and Ravion found it in the most surprising of places. The newly published Articles of Magistration.
The Magistration debate had become one of the most contentious legal conflicts in recent Senate memory. Should an elected monarch be compelled to step down pending a suitable system be in place? Or was such a measure destabilising in a time when stability was already slipping?
Dominic had been vocal in supporting stricter accountability, a stance that won him praise among reformists and suspicion among loyalists. Ravion realised he could combine these threads.
The Magistration Committee needed "external ethical oversight" for the Outbound Flight resource allocation. It was almost laughable how easy it was to just take these little words and insert Dominic's name into the shortlist for that rarely-scrutinised requirement. After all it was Kayrce handling this for him and she executed the insertion expertly. Three other senators' names appeared alongside his all of which had vast art collections in their respective homes and as such Ravion knew each would conveniently decline the shortlist within forty-eight hours for various fabricated reasons.
Then once the list reached the Committee, it would be time for Ravion to make his final move.
All it would take is a subtle nudge. A quick strategic remark, a solid reminder that Naboo had always championed fairness.
That would be all it took.
It wouldn't however remove the fact that Kayrce was studying him, her eyes digging into him like an execution order. It made him pause, made him realise that for all her worth she was also probably his biggest threat. "You seem pleased." She said as she took a seat near him. Voice calm, yet with a slight questioning tone.
"I am," he said simply. Resting one hand on her shoulder, fingers tightening reassuringly. "Are you not?"
"He is not our only obstacle," she reminded him as she felt his fingers loosen with the remark.
"No," Ravion agreed. She really had everything worked out in her head, apart from him. "But he was the most… symmetrical."
"Symmetrical?"
Ravion released his hold on her shoulder and walked around to his own chair at the desk, rolling the words between his teeth like wine. "Removing him from the Senate without weakening his legitimacy preserves the appearance of fairness. It keeps Naboo stable while rendering it directionless. And it positions us…" He sat and gave a long look out of his window, towards the distant cliffs where Theed sat like a glittering prize. "...for the moment Aurelian Veruna falters."
Kayrce nodded once, yet couldn't quite hide her tone of surprise, "This is still about the Magistration?"
"It will be our stage," Ravion said. "Dominic's absence gives us room. And the Republic loves a power vacuum almost as much as it fears one."
"And what of the third party?" she asked quietly, leaning into the conversation as well.
Ravion's expression shifted, subtle but real. Concern crossed his face for just enough of a moment to be seen by his Chiss attendant.
"Yes," he said quickly to hide it. "It is time we consulted them."
Kayrce activated the encrypted channel without needing further instruction.
The holotable flickered to life. A form appeared, no face, no outline, only distortion given shape. A voice, modulated into a half-whisper, pulsed from its centre.
"Senator Corvalis," it murmured. "We have much to discuss."
"You're early," he commented, shedding his dyed-ceremonial jacket over the back of his chair and pressing a small switch to allow the blind that were casting darkness across the room to allow the morning dawn to creep in.
"I was awake," she replied simply. Her red eyes flickered toward him. "And you said we needed the preliminary data ready by dawn."
She was always efficient. Already she had dived into the Outbound Flight Project. The Republic's grand attempt to fling itself beyond explored space, it was an act half visionary, half desperate. A statement to the galaxy that even in times of political fragility, they still had the courage to look outward.
And it was an opportunity, Ravion knew, to change the board.
"Show me," he said.
At her gesture, the holos converged into a single image. The Outbound Fleet Manifest. Hundreds of pages worth of draft roles, crew designations, scientific positions, diplomatic liaisons, volunteer colonists, defence specialists. A staggering undertaking.
But Ravion's eyes fixed on a smaller, newer category that had appeared in recent revisions; Senatorial Representatives (Limited).
He did not smile, not outwardly at least; but something coiled pleasantly in his chest.
"Finally," he murmured, "the Republic gives us a lever."
"It is not yet confirmed."
"It will be," he said. "The Emergency Committee wants Outbound Flight protected from accusations of secrecy. A handful of senators onboard makes it look accountable."
"And exploitable."
"Exactly."
He paced once, hands clasped behind his back. Naboo would be required to assign someone. That alone was not enough. The High Council would expect a volunteer, someone competent, respected, likely to uphold the Republic's values.
But the Article of Magistration, the very same set of laws currently under debate due to Aurelian Veruna's increasingly tenuous position as acting Chancellor, included a subsection most senators never paid attention to:
A representative may retain their senatorial authority while serving temporarily abroad, so long as the function is deemed an extension of Republic service.
Outbound Flight qualified. Which meant, A senator could be sent away without losing his seat.
If that certain senator was from Naboo? Ravion's mind began to trace lines. Naboo's Senate delegation would become mostly symbolic in their absence, leaving a vacuum in their influential voting bloc. Ravion could align with or exploit the resulting instability as needed.
And Dominic; dutiful, earnest, keen to be seen Dominic, well he would never suspect it.
"Kayrce," Ravion said quietly, "let's begin."
The first step was simple, all they had to do was create momentum.
Ravion's had taken to writing blogs about his journey as a Senator within the High Republic, and its readers; a carefully curated mix of political loyalists, mid-tier bureaucrats, and the everyday people who liked to feel important but weren't, they always loved visionary rhetoric. So he drafted an entry about the promise of the Outbound Flight Project.
Excerpt from Ravion's public blog:
"We stand at the precipice of a second Great Expansion.
Outbound Flight represents the Republic's courage to dream again, to believe that its influence can still be a force for connection rather than division. These ships are not merely vessels; they are the sculpted intention of a people who refuse to be defined by conflict.
As Senator of Malastare, I believe deeply in the necessity of unity behind this project. We must build, not fracture. Reach outward, not inward."
"We stand at the precipice of a second Great Expansion.
Outbound Flight represents the Republic's courage to dream again, to believe that its influence can still be a force for connection rather than division. These ships are not merely vessels; they are the sculpted intention of a people who refuse to be defined by conflict.
As Senator of Malastare, I believe deeply in the necessity of unity behind this project. We must build, not fracture. Reach outward, not inward."
Making sure that his words were elegant enough to sound patriotic, yet vague enough to conceal motive. He had to make sure they were perfect.
He published it, watched it as it started to circulate through the minor morning news-spheres, and then calmly he immediately turned off his notifications. The public was useful, but it was often a noisy distraction.
After all, the real work would begin in the shadows.
Kayrce had compiled a list of all senators who had expressed praise for the Outbound Flight initiative. Dominic Praxon of Naboo appeared exactly where Ravion expected, firmly supportive, but cautious at the higher cost. He did always strike him as the kind of man who believed in the Republic yet had the good sense to read each line of a budget report.
It was all lining up far too easily, Dominic would be his ideal candidate for this accidental duty to the cause.
"Now we begin seeding the narrative," Ravion said.
Kayrce nodded once and moved with mechanical precision. Messages, all anonymous or ambiguously sourced, began drifting through the bureaucratic undercurrent:
Naboo has such a strong diplomatic tradition; surely they'll send someone.
Praxon is young but accomplished. The face of new-era cooperation.
If we don't send someone from Naboo, doesn't it look like we're withdrawing from the galactic community?
Praxon is young but accomplished. The face of new-era cooperation.
If we don't send someone from Naboo, doesn't it look like we're withdrawing from the galactic community?
Harmless questions. Offhand remarks. But in the Republic, and the wider galaxy whispers grew into winds quickly. Winds that if one knew how to shape could be devastating.
Ravion knew Dominic wouldn't respond immediately. He would assume the rumours were mere speculation. He would wait for an official request.
Ravion was already making sure that request was already on its way. However the hardest part of that plan was making it look organic.
The planned Outbound Flight slots were limited; many of the names had already been locked into place on the creation of the project, and each participating system could nominate only one senator to attach to the diplomatic core of it. Many worlds had obvious candidates. Naboo did not. There was Briana Sal-Soren or one of the Jedi ilk, but they were too high profile and too essential, besides Ravion already had plans for the Sal-Sorens. That left many of the other senatorial adjuncts, yet they were too old, too inexperienced, or too politically compromised.
Dominic Praxon was, by quiet, conveniently constructed process of elimination; the "only logical choice."
Kayrce had laid the groundwork perfectly. Using a network of junior clerks with more ambition than sense, she delivered a set of "projected efficiency values" that argued strongly in favour of diplomatic representation aboard the mission.
Notably:
Senator Praxon is uniquely positioned to act as a liaison between expansion authorities and planetary interests due to Naboo's longstanding neutrality and emphasis on peace-first policy.
Which was simply a polite way of saying that he is popular, he is trusted, and he will not sabotage the initiative.
Ravion reviewed it all, every bit of information that scrolled before them tapping his ring lightly against the desk.
"Do you think he will suspect manipulation?" Kayrce asked quietly from her position behind him.
"He might suspect pressure," Ravion admitted with a shrug. "But not manipulation. Praxon is earnest to a fault. He sees meaning where others see manoeuvre."
Kayrce considered that. "He's idealistic."
"He's inconvenient," Ravion corrected. "Which is why he must be elsewhere."
But one thing remained, they needed plausible necessity. A reason Dominic could not publicly refuse and Ravion found it in the most surprising of places. The newly published Articles of Magistration.
The Magistration debate had become one of the most contentious legal conflicts in recent Senate memory. Should an elected monarch be compelled to step down pending a suitable system be in place? Or was such a measure destabilising in a time when stability was already slipping?
Dominic had been vocal in supporting stricter accountability, a stance that won him praise among reformists and suspicion among loyalists. Ravion realised he could combine these threads.
The Magistration Committee needed "external ethical oversight" for the Outbound Flight resource allocation. It was almost laughable how easy it was to just take these little words and insert Dominic's name into the shortlist for that rarely-scrutinised requirement. After all it was Kayrce handling this for him and she executed the insertion expertly. Three other senators' names appeared alongside his all of which had vast art collections in their respective homes and as such Ravion knew each would conveniently decline the shortlist within forty-eight hours for various fabricated reasons.
Then once the list reached the Committee, it would be time for Ravion to make his final move.
All it would take is a subtle nudge. A quick strategic remark, a solid reminder that Naboo had always championed fairness.
That would be all it took.
It wouldn't however remove the fact that Kayrce was studying him, her eyes digging into him like an execution order. It made him pause, made him realise that for all her worth she was also probably his biggest threat. "You seem pleased." She said as she took a seat near him. Voice calm, yet with a slight questioning tone.
"I am," he said simply. Resting one hand on her shoulder, fingers tightening reassuringly. "Are you not?"
"He is not our only obstacle," she reminded him as she felt his fingers loosen with the remark.
"No," Ravion agreed. She really had everything worked out in her head, apart from him. "But he was the most… symmetrical."
"Symmetrical?"
Ravion released his hold on her shoulder and walked around to his own chair at the desk, rolling the words between his teeth like wine. "Removing him from the Senate without weakening his legitimacy preserves the appearance of fairness. It keeps Naboo stable while rendering it directionless. And it positions us…" He sat and gave a long look out of his window, towards the distant cliffs where Theed sat like a glittering prize. "...for the moment Aurelian Veruna falters."
Kayrce nodded once, yet couldn't quite hide her tone of surprise, "This is still about the Magistration?"
"It will be our stage," Ravion said. "Dominic's absence gives us room. And the Republic loves a power vacuum almost as much as it fears one."
"And what of the third party?" she asked quietly, leaning into the conversation as well.
Ravion's expression shifted, subtle but real. Concern crossed his face for just enough of a moment to be seen by his Chiss attendant.
"Yes," he said quickly to hide it. "It is time we consulted them."
Kayrce activated the encrypted channel without needing further instruction.
The holotable flickered to life. A form appeared, no face, no outline, only distortion given shape. A voice, modulated into a half-whisper, pulsed from its centre.
"Senator Corvalis," it murmured. "We have much to discuss."
