Populate A Change is Gonna Come | THR Populate of Iphigin

[Pillar of Fortitude]

THE JEDI SEEK NEW PATHS

Vendaxa has been suggested as a possible future home for the Jedi Order. Before any decision is made, teams are being sent across the planet to explore, survey and determine whether Vendaxa could safely support a permanent Jedi presence.

Players can choose from several objectives:

• Acklay Survey: Locate breeding and hunting grounds, track how acklays move between the oceans and plains, and identify areas that should be avoided.
• Temple Sites: Explore possible locations for a future Jedi Temple, including elevated plains, forested highlands, coastal cliffs or more isolated wilderness.
• The Caves: Investigate a cave system where unusual Dark Side resonance has been detected. Vendaxa once fell within the ancient Rakatan sphere of influence, so there may be more beneath the surface than expected.
• Wildlife Survey: Catalogue dangerous native creatures and determine whether settlements could safely coexist with Vendaxa's ecosystem.
• Pathfinders: Establish safe landing zones, routes between potential sites, water sources and locations suitable for future infrastructure.

Vendaxa has not been chosen as the Jedi Order's new home. This thread will help determine whether it should remain a candidate.

We also encourage players to suggest other planets. Further exploration threads can be run throughout the year, before we eventually hold both an OOC and IC vote on where the Order should settle.

THE HIGH REPUBLIC AT WAR

The Sith Order’s brutal attack on Thyferra has ended any remaining illusion that the conflict with the Sith Order can be contained at the frontier.

In the days since, the scale of the invasion has become impossible to ignore: the dead in their thousands, critical infrastructure in ruins, and one of the High Republic’s most strategically important worlds in flames and under enemy occupation. The enemy shows no signs of stopping there. Across the Republic, planetary governments are demanding answers, military commanders are seeking authority, and citizens are asking whether their worlds are the next target.

The Senate has been summoned into emergency session.

Before a packed chamber and a Republic watching live across the HoloNet, High Chancellor Dominique Vexx will address the attack on Thyferra and seek to chart the High Republic’s course through a war that they did not choose or seek, but cannot afford to lose.

Knowing the diverse interests of the Senate, it is likely that Vexx’s speech will not end the debate, but begin it.

Senators must now decide what war will require of the Republic: how far its military should be mobilized, what resources must be committed, what powers the government should wield in wartime, how vulnerable worlds will be defended, and what sacrifices can reasonably be demanded of the citizens they represent. Allies and diplomats must reckon with what the war means for their own governments. Military leaders will hear the political mandate under which they are expected to fight.

For some, Thyferra has made war unavoidable. For others, the greater danger may lie in what the Republic is willing to become while fighting it.

Either way, there can be no return to the politics of yesterday.

The Chancellor has the floor, and the High Republic is watching.

BRING YOUR OWN OBJECTIVE

It’s a great big universe out there, and there are plenty of ways to interact with this story, even if you write something other than a Jedi or a Senator.

Tell your story and have fun.

 

[Tiberius Rath]

OBJECTIVE: BUILDING TASK FORCE MORIDENA
PEACE THROUGH SUPERIOR FIREPOWER
​

"You are sure you are recovered? I hear it was quite the engagement," asked a Chandrilan senior officer who stood with Tiberius Rath on the bridge of a supercarrier, staring through the viewpoert at the shapes converging on the deepspace docks.

"Hardly," Tiberius grunted, dark eyes narrowing at the memory. He wore a simple officer's uniform, with his rank insignia over the chest. "Just another ache to the tally, Rahj."

Commodore Rahj nodded, "They have enormous vessels, but few capable commanders. We have capable commanders, but few warships."

"Quite. Something I hope this task force will remedy," Tiberius replied stiffly.

"A carrier centered task force... do you really think it can stand up to their heavy dreadnoughts?"

"Why? Do you think the Senate will authorize funds to construct an axial superlaser?"

The Chandrilan blinked, "A joke? You must have hit your head along with your back, Tiberius."

A grim, toothless smile peeled across Rath's lips in answer before he changed the subject. "Any word on the Jedi's response?"

Rahj grimaced and began massaging the bridge if his nose. "Mmmm yes, they are currently conducting an ecological survey of Vendaxa."

The dark eyes of Commodore Rath swung toward the Chandrilan like two gunports. "What?"

 

[Renard Fenn]

OBJECTIVE: SAFE HARBOR
LOCATION: MOBILE STARPORT
​

A diminutive Amaran in earth-toned robes padded through the corridors of the way station port. Every corridor seemed clogged with refugees from the worlds the Sith had just poured into, with most having nothing to their name but their clothes and the belongings they'd managed to fit into satchels. The resources of the starport were stretched to the limit and frankly so was Renard Fenn.

The Jedi Knight's sandy fur was ruffled and his ears lay flat against his skull, but he kept a smile on his face because he knew that most of the humanoids he interacted with saw that as a sign of good cheer, even if he didn't necessarily feel it.

Knight Fenn had mostly recovered from his fight with the Sith traitor on board the last Galactic Alliance Jedi vessel. He had thought there might still be some good in her, but she had crushed his throat and nearly killed him. He had failed. Thankfully, a bacta tank had brought Ren back to health and he had spent his days helping with agricultural work inside the Republic's borders.

If only he could believe that the refugees filling up the corridors could receive the same kind of bacta treatment. But no, they could not. Bacta production was cut off and the supplies they did have were suspect. Potentially poisoned. Kolto might offer an answer, but until that production could be spun up to sufficient levels the people had to make do. And right now those people were suffering.

Ren carried a box of hydropaks, handing them out to the refugees he passed.

"Here you go."

One looked up at him, a humanoid with eyes bloodshot. "Do you know when the Republic is sending shuttles for us to get out of this place?"

Ren's smile stiffened. "No, I am sorry. But we are doing everything we can."

The humanoid gripped his sleeve. "We have barely eaten the last two days."

"I know," Ren replied gently, "Please, trust us... trust me and trust the Force. We will not abandon you."

The words seemed to give the humanoid hope, which was the only thing Ren could truly offer.

"Thank you...." the humanoid slumped back against the wall. "Thank you."

​

 

[Gym Halpern]

PERSONAL LOG: HALPERN
DATE: [REDACTED]
PRIORITY: Secured / Personal Eyes Only
ASSIGNMENT: Discuss Task Force
STATUS: Working

This was not good.

He was reading the AARs and they were all of what could have been done, not what happened. Looking over what happened over Thyferra, he’d remembered something Admiral Angellus used to say…

“Don’t overthink it.”

This is something that it seemed everyone was doing. It was not that the man was some expert or something but Halpern saw what could be changed. There needed to be dedicated fleets, sector, defense, reactionary. It’s not their fault. The Sith don’t play, but this could be the opportunity that is needed to make a change.

Walking down the hall, he saw a few more of the AARs and saw that he was not alone in his thoughts. This would be a good time to make changes for the betterment of the Grand Army of the Republic as well as the Republic itself.

Ensign, take me to see Commodore Tiberius Rath . Yes, he was retired, technically, but he was still an Admiral and Rhys Gorne seemed to trust him enough to get things done. Might as well start now.

TAG:

 

[Guinevere Cavello]

​

Objective: BYOO - Viewing The Senate Proceedings
Location: Naboo | Theed Cultural Center

The Theed Cultural Center had hosted galas, operas, diplomatic receptions, and enough charity auctions to keep Naboo's social elite occupied for generations. Tonight, however, its grand halls had been transformed into something far more dangerous: a viewing party.

Across enormous holoscreens, the proceedings of the Galactic Senate played out before an audience composed of nobles, industrial magnates, financiers, and heirs to some of the galaxy's oldest Houses. Champagne flowed beneath crystal chandeliers while carefully cultivated smiles concealed calculations every bit as ruthless as those taking place on the Senate floor.

Here, however, the contests were different.

Every entrance was noticed. Every dress, jeweled pin, whispered conversation, and strategically chosen companion carried meaning. Poise mattered. Grace mattered. Social capital mattered. A poorly chosen outfit could inspire more gossip than a senator's disastrous amendment, while being seen speaking with the right House at precisely the right moment could alter fortunes overnight.

For the galaxy's wealthiest citizens, even war was not merely tragedy. It was opportunity. Shipping contracts changed hands. Reconstruction required investors. Scarcity created markets, and instability opened doors that peace had kept firmly closed. Houses that understood how to position themselves could emerge wealthier, stronger, and more influential than before.

While senators argued beneath the domes of the senate, another kind of politics unfolded beneath the glittering lights of Theed.

The speeches had begun.

So had the judging.

Open to Anybody

 

[Ilsoon Jul]

Ilsoon stood near the window of his private office, watching the blue glow of a small holo-projector flicker across the dim room. A masked Mummer representative stood in miniature above his desk, its distorted voice carrying through the quiet as Ilsoon listened with his hands folded behind his back.

"The timing is non-negotiable," Ilsoon said quietly. "The Chancellor convenes the emergency session today. Everything must happen while the chamber is full." The hologram nodded, confirming that the cell was already in position. Ilsoon ended the transmission with a tap of his finger and turned toward his desk.

There was no dignity in using known terrorists to push policy nor did he want to drag the Republic into a full-scale war with an invulnerable Sith Empire. But the Trade Federation Directorate had been pressing his office for weeks, while the Neimoidian majority on Cato Neimoidia demanded action over the trade routes they had lost to the bacta-producing world.

Words alone would not force the more cautious senators into action, but perhaps a direct threat on Naboo's soil would. Ilsoon picked up his datapad and checked the live Senate feed. Chancellor Dominique Vexx had just taken the central podium, her image appearing across the building's monitors as her speech was broadcast throughout the HoloNet.

With the emergency session already underway, Ilsoon left his office and boarded his senatorial pod. He guided it into the crowded Convocation Hall just as Vexx began her address. ​

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique Vexx remain out of sight as the Chamber was opened for Senators to take their seats. Assistants hurried about trying to corral all those of self-proclaimed authority and self-importance to stop standing about in the hallway talking. They put it far more politely, of course, with something about the Chamber being sealed once the Session began. As they did so, the Chancellor occupied the strategic backroom of the center seat. A reclusive place to meet without needing to depart and miss someone motioning something absurd that required handled. No one would get a 'last second' word in with her before the pronouncement even if they had an inkling of the topic at hand. Nor could they get a 'preview' of what she was about to present.

Certain members of the Republic government had already been informed about their parts. None with the whole of it. They would be able to piece together where their part of the puzzle fell by the time the day was out.

As the time drew nigh, Dominique let her hands slide down the sides of her white uniform. Composure. Confidence. Command. She'd left the glareshades in a locked box for today's affair. Let the Chamber see the intensity of her gaze. The contact lenses would provide sufficient optical display for on-going reports in their place. Reports such as the Covenant threatening the Republic with a 'plague' ship, which just scrolled across her vision.

At the foot of the stairs, Dominique turned to look over at her Secretary, Kyrha, the crimson-eyed woman from the depths of Denon. "Do it."

The grand doors to the Chamber would begin to close. A pre-programmed routine had been fashioned and presently executed by Dominique's trusty assistant. It was intended to keep out unwanted disruptors as well as keep those conscientious objectors from fleeing out of convenience. It also imposed an electromagnetic interference field to disrupt wireless communication, while the hardlines were disconnected. Whatever was about to happen next, the assembled Senators were Dominique's captive audience. No tricks. No ploys. No running to the press to perform a one-person play.

They could perform their theatrics for the people of the Republic -- and beyond -- on the holofeeds from cameras throughout the Chamber. Their voices could howl and protest until one of Naboo's moons fell from the skies, if they wished. Once Dominique permitted it.

What else might a Senator first notice except the control to broadcast their voice for all to hear didn't work. Was it just you? Oh, and the person next to you? And next to them? What was going on? Perhaps they'd catch on, but they wouldn't have time to organize before Dominique crested the stairs and took her place in the Chancellor's podium.

"Gentlemen. Ladies. Sentient creatures of the Republic," Dominique's voice boomed throughout the Chamber and across the stars. "You have been called here today for one purpose -- and one purpose only. To determine the fate of the High Republic and its many worlds."

Golden rings slid over the rows of pods to give them a moment to mentally refocus their attention.

"You have heard time and time again Representatives and Officials in this Chamber and abroad speak of the danger beyond our borders, and the threats stirred up within by the very same. You have listened and tolerated legislation and redistribution of resources, military personnel, and financial aid under the banner of securing our borders and our many worlds. And, in the wake of recent events, some of you have begun to question what it was all even for."

"Certain elements among you have begun to speak of the Republic no longer being of the people. Not listening to your concerns. Of selfishly hording resources while you and yours go without. Stories of corruption and decadence have sat like lead in your heart or invoked the fires of revolt. I have heard these words as well. As your Chancellor, I have not turned neither my gaze nor my ear from you. What they said. How viscerally you responded. I see it. I hear you."

"And now, you think, I come asking for more." Dominique set her hands atop the poidum as she looked out at those assembled. "And I do not. I come before you now not to ask more than what I, myself, am willing to give. Not more than that which I proclaimed as the battle for Thyferra unfolded. Not one inch more than what you, yourself, demand of your civil government."

"I too demand it." Both hands lifted and clapped back down again atop the podium. "I demand that we do now that which we have fought to avoid knowing its cost. I demand that we do now that which our people expect of us. That we move united against the enemy that does not stand idly at the gate -- they have torn down the gate! They are here. With us. Now! A people that do not care for righteousness, justice, or equal measure. There is no limit to what they will take. No satisfaction that brings an end to the savagery. We are at an end with polite discourse. At an end with tolerance in the hope of reconciliation. At an end to that knot that grows in our bellies every day, worried what tomorrow may bring."

"Our people deserve a future without endless war. A future where we do not expect to hear that a city or a planet is on fire because of an incursion across a border on a map. To know their young can grow up in the peace and comfort we ourselves have enjoyed."

Dominique stood up straighter, her hands lifted from the top of the podium. "But to get there we must do what is necessary. What is right. Not what is convenient. Nor easy. The tempest has arrived, and there is but one course left before us -- through. We shall not merely weather this storm, but carve a path through its dark currents and break through to the other side. We shall reclaim what is ours by exhausting Evil at its source, and laying waste to their industries of war. We will no longer respond, but act without delay."

"Therefore," Dominique paused as she took stock of all those before her, "it is with the heaviest heart that I seek, I ask, I demand that this Chamber declare War against the Sith. Not any one Sith. All Sith. For it is not just the Order, it is not just the Covenant, but all that have sought our destruction and shall do so again. Elements of all Sith factions have appeared on the field and therefore all have earned our ire, our scorn, and our enmity."

"Vote to move forward together, and we will all secure that future we all hold dear."

With that, the interior broadcast and debate system was reactivated for the Senatorial pods.

Open | Senators | Representatives
Ilsoon Jul | Guinevere Cavello​

 

[Anet Raine]

Dominique Vexx Ilsoon Jul | Guinevere Cavello​

For so long, the Sith Covenant had wanted to draw the High Republic into wider acts of aggression. To see the psychology of war spread across their many systems and worlds. For it to be on the minds of ordinary civilians as they go about their days, ever mindful that somewhere in that very moment, the Republic was fighting. To have younglings make-believe, imagining themselves fighting alongside heroic Jedi. For Padawans to be thrust into battle, ever vulnerable to the reach of the Dark Side.

The Chancellor's speech was a thrill. Anet shook in the legs. Even her hands could not idle. Her heart raced - it pounded in her ears. She did her best not to smile. She did her best not to squeal with delight.

A war not against nations, but against Sith. The entirety of their existence. Wonderful, wasn't it?

The Senator for Belazura rose unsteadily, catching herself on her aide, who incorrectly presumed that Anet suffered from anxiety.

"Madam Chancellor... Esteemed colleagues. Our noble Republic." She began.

"What happened on Thyferra and Abregado-rae was nothing less than atrocity and genocide. If this is how Sith wage war, then we must be committed. We must push forward without restraint. Without delay. We cannot afford to give ground. To allow more to suffer the burdens of undeniable evil.

"But it is not only Sith that trouble us. It is all nations that wage total war because they love it. It is that disgusting, inexcusable belief that continues to sow chaos across our galaxy - leaving billions dead and trillions more devastated by the consequences.

"I trust we have all witnessed the broadcast that went out from the Sith in the core. But I have also heard how others respond."

Through her pod's broadcasting system, Anet played a recording from another message that recently went out at a galactic level.

His holographic projection was seen across the galaxy as he spoke "I am Field Marshal Vreegan Fett," gesturing towards himself so there was no confusion. "The people of Abregado-rae were weak, vile and undeserving of Mandalorian protection. They allowed a sickening plague spread by the Sith to corrupt their world, and when the fight finally came to their doorstep. They fought and fled like cattle instead of dying to protect their homeworld. Cowardice is met only with a bolt in the back, exactly as Clan Munin delivered." His explained in a dismissive tone of voice beneath the vocoder of the helmet, blaming the people of the planet instead of the Mythos Fleet for being to ill-equipped to defend their own territory.

"To find that horrifying or beneath contempt is precisely why our culture can never be destroyed. Darth Carnifex failed to wipe us out. The Sith Covenant, for all their plagues and tough talk, will not wipe us out either. Time and time again, the galaxy is surprised by the conviction we carry, because they do not understand that we are culling the weak. So what? The galaxy will burn, and we will continue to fan the embers."

"An end to this senseless violence!" She called out. "Our Republic must stand for Peace. We must take up the mantle of a galactic defender against all nations, all creeds, all actors who want nothing more than to kill. To burn. To terrorize. To cull people who deserve a chance at their way of life. If not us, then who?"

She took a deep breath and quieted her rhetoric.

"Beluzara will vote yes."

 

[Ala Quin]

MISSION: Temple Site Survey​

The amnesty deadline had not left Ala's mind simply because she had left Naboo.

If anything, the quiet of the shuttle had given the matter more room to trouble her. There were decisions still to be made concerning the Vanguard, and people she dearly wished would make theirs before the Council was forced to make them instead. For the moment, however, Vendaxa offered the rare mercy of another impossible problem.

The shuttle settled upon a broad shelf of exposed stone, a natural platform so level that little imagination was required to picture transports coming and going from it. Ala stepped down onto the rock and immediately understood why Sira Esmeray had recommended the site.

Mountains rose around them in abrupt pillars, their faces falling almost sheer into valleys hundreds of metres below. Trees clung improbably to ledges and cracks in the stone, while thicker forests crowned the heights wherever soil had managed to gather. Mist wound through the valleys beneath them, obscuring their depths and leaving distant peaks floating above a pale silver haze. Water could be heard somewhere beyond the ridge, though the source remained hidden amongst the green.

It really was beautiful, stunningly so. But Ala knew, was not enough.

Acier Moonbound had joined them at her invitation rather than in any formal capacity. His pardon was still new, and Ala had thought it worthwhile that he see something of the Order beyond councils, and internal disputes. How much he chose to involve himself was his decision.

Her greater attention, however, settled upon Sira. "This was your suggestion," Ala said, turning slowly to take in the plateau again. "So I am going to be rather unfair and make you defend it."

A small smile touched her lips. "Tell me why we should build here. Then tell me why we absolutely should not."

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Acier Moonbound Sira Esmeray | Equipment: Survey Equipment, Satchel |​

 

[Connel Vanagor]

BACK TO THE BEGINNING
VENDAXA
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION

Omega Squad Every Day Gear Locations

• Michael – Team Leader
  Gabriel - Tech/XO,
  Raguel - Infiltration/CQB,
  Raphael - Heavy Weapons,
  Jeremiel - Corpsman,
  Connel/Ariel - CQB/Explosives,
  Sariel - Sniper,
  Vigilant Reaper - Gunship
  
• 
  Rides
  
  • "Enterprise" Station Ship
  • Vigilant Reaper
  • Null Vector
  • Speederbike
  • Iron Psalm
  Gear/Armor
  
  • Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, link to Seraphim AI included)
  • Lightblaster
  • Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
  • 5 Throwing Lightknives
  • 3 Force Blinding Flashbangs
  • RI-17 Rifle-w-MS-0412 Grenade Launcher
  SURGICAL - CRYBERNETIC IMPLANTS
  
  • Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
  • Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
  • Muscle enhancements.
  • Hemo enhancements for blood flow
  • Hawkeye implants for eyes
  • Advanced Medical Implant
  • Scentzy
  • Injected Nanotech upgrades
• Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise

He was not interfering.

The Jedi Order was looking for a new home.

With a traitor like Acier Moonbound leading the way right now next to Aunt Ala Quin . She knew what she was doing and could handle herself so he trusted that. It’s what father would do, but there was something that was still “off” about all of this. So Connel stayed at a perimeter, keeping a sentry point.

Standing guard. Keeping his distance and not interfering.

Frankly, Connel “Disliked” this planet. Vendaxa was where it all began. Connel was long past what had happened to him, but still. This planet was not one of his favorites. No shame to Sira Esmeray .


(Tags made are only to show proximity)

[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
TAGS • ARE • OPEN
Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts​

 

[Arcelon Varellan]

LOCATION CULTURAL CENTRE, THEED, NABOO ◆ OBJECTIVE RUB ELBOWS WITH FELLOW NOBILITY

Sovereign Prince Arcelon Varellan arrived at the Theed Cultural Center before the Senate had given anyone much worth discussing.

That suited him well enough.

The formal coat he wore was ivory through most of its length, fitted neatly across the shoulders and waist, with deep burgundy worked into the collar and inner panels. Gold embroidery followed the cuffs in a restrained pattern, while a small Varellan crest sat at his breast. Arcelon had never cared much for appearing deliberately understated, though neither did he see much reason to compete with half the nobility of the Republic over who could wear the largest piece of jewellery.

An attendant met him shortly beyond the entrance, exchanged the expected pleasantries and directed him toward the gathering proper. Arcelon thanked the young man before stepping further inside, allowing himself several moments to take in the faces around him rather than the architecture already doing its best to impress everyone.

There were enough familiar names attached to unfamiliar faces.

Arcelon had spent much of his life being shown portraits, reading briefings and remembering which families carried influence in different corners of the Republic. It made events such as this easier. Someone could be unknown to him personally without being entirely unknown, and more than once he exchanged a greeting with an individual whose face finally matched a name he had carried for several years.

A server crossed his path with a tray of champagne.

"Thank you," Arcelon said, taking one of the offered glasses and moving it carefully aside as another guest passed between them. "You've saved me the embarrassment of wandering around empty-handed."

The young server smiled before continuing through the room. Arcelon took a small drink and continued further into the gathering, returning a polite inclination of his head when an older nobleman several metres away raised a hand in greeting.

It was difficult not to appreciate the theatre of it.

For the moment, however, his attention had settled elsewhere, upon Princess Guinevere Cavello. He knew the name and enough of Avalon and House Cavello to avoid approaching entirely ignorant, though Arcelon could not recall any occasion where they had been formally introduced. He began to make his way in her direction, passing between the small collections of guests without any particular hurry.

He had almost reached her when the room began to quiet.

Arcelon stopped near one of the taller tables and turned with everyone else toward the Senate feed, where Chancellor Vexx had taken the podium.

Whatever conversations remained nearby faded once it became apparent this was not another procedural address. Arcelon listened with the champagne held loosely at his side, his attention fixed on the Chancellor as she spoke of the dangers beyond the Republic's borders, the demands already placed upon its people and the consequences of continuing to wait.

By the time she reached the purpose of the address, Arcelon had stopped drinking entirely.

The Chancellor wanted war declared against the Sith. All of them.

His expression remained controlled, though his thoughts shifted immediately to Gan Moradir.

The planet had survived scarcity for generations because those responsible for it refused to treat tomorrow as someone else's problem. Water reservoir levels, imports, recovery periods and contingency reserves were monitored because they had to be. A conflict broad enough to interfere with major Republic routes could matter considerably, even if no enemy ever came within sight of the planet.

There would be time to examine that properly once he returned to his staff. For now, there was little value in reacting to possibilities before he understood which of them were real.

Arcelon looked briefly around the Cultural Center as the Senate regained its voice. The gathering had changed in the space of several minutes. People stood closer together, conversations returned with greater urgency and faces that had looked relaxed earlier were suddenly more attentive to those around them.

Guinevere remained nearby.

At least the interruption had saved him from needing to invent an opening topic.

Arcelon stepped away from the table and approached, keeping enough distance that she could acknowledge him before he entered her immediate space. The champagne remained in one hand, mostly untouched, while the other rested comfortably at his side.

"Princess Cavello?" he asked, offering a warm smile with a polite inclination of his head. "Arcelon Varellan, of Gan Moradir. I believe this is the first time I've actually had the pleasure."

His eyes moved briefly toward the Senate feed before returning to her.

"I had intended to introduce myself with something rather more interesting than galactic war," Arcelon admitted, the smile lingering. "The Chancellor appears to have made that difficult."

He shifted the glass slightly between his fingers, motioning toward the holos.

"What do you make of it?"

TAGS
Guinevere Cavello ◆ Open

 

[Makai Dashiell]

BYOO : CORPORATE ALLIANCE

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Tycho Irogane | Vira Halor | Lodd Grimmin | Nerys Ordon

​

IPHIGIN , TRADE CENTER TOWER

An odd collection of corporatists sat in the Trade Center Tower. Himself and three others were in the mining and resource industry, although he had expanded to agriculture and now kolto, along with a few other little dabblings in his subsidiaries. Grimmin was someone Makai never worked with personally but he admired the Nemodian for his sharp business acumen. Not to mention a sway in the Trade Federation to secure funding an influence where he could not.

Makai had encountered the other mining executives at an Expo bitching about caf. He was praying they were more focused today. If they could collaborate they would be on the cusp of greatness.

"I've brought us here today to discuss the kolto and medical industry in the High Republic." Makai paused. "Before you balk and begin to backtrack to mining, I think we can capture a market that is sorely under served while also opening the door for our mining industries and the Trade Federations many pieces of influence."

He motioned to the vital trade world outside their windows.

"The Republic expands quickly. War is continually knocking on their doorstep. Right now the Chancellor is giving an emergency speech. The government is gearing up for war, yet it is horribly unprepared. The Sith now control the supply of bacta. We can supply kolto. I've personally spearheaded a kolto farm in the Corporate Sector...trouble is I have yet to have any Senators or government officals to bite."

The half-Galan paused to take a sip of water.

"Part of it is pride, they just don't want to admit there is an issue. The other is influence. I sadly don't have the infamous bust of my mother-in-law. This is where I am hoping the Trade Federation can be of assistance. This is where your companies step in and make a subsidiary and corner the market with me."

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

Makai Dashiell

Lodd sat still in his mechno-chair, interlocking his fingers on the table as Makai Dashiell laid out the plan in full. His eyes were looking at the freighters and starships moving through the atmosphere beyond the confines of the trading tower. These were the everyday people that the High Republic would need to survive and if this conference didn't cater to them then this entire operation was worthless in terms of making credits.

He returned his focus to the mining mogul, as the substance known as Kolto was mentioned as a possible solution to the ongoing bacta shortage. It sounded questionable on paper, as it was an inferior healing agent, slower to take and far less effective on severe battlefield injuries. Lodd couldn't fathom why any military force or citizen would willingly choose a lesser medicine when lives were on the line.

Still, he kept his mouth shut and simply listened. The doubts stayed behind his eyes while he measured the half-Galan across the table. Whatever flaws existed in the product itself, Makai at least understood who held the real leverage in the room. He was acknowledging the Trade Federation's weight, and that alone made the pitch worth hearing out to the end.

When Makai brought up the Chancellor's emergency speech and the Sith blockade on Thyferra's bacta routes, Lodd's fingers tapped once against his knuckles. A government backed into a corner by war was a desperate buyer, and desperate buyers eventually stopped caring about product quality when their stocks ran dry. Makai finished his pitch, took a sip of his water, and waited for a reaction. Lodd said nothing. He remained unmoving in his chair, his red eyes on the other executives in the room to see who would break the silence first.
​

 

[Guinevere Cavello]

​

Another party. Another social obligation. Another elaborate dress chosen to make a princess look suitably regal.

Gwen was beginning to wonder if any of it meant anything at all.

She arrived at the cultural center with Taza close at her side, her maiden's sharp, watchful gaze sweeping over the gathering with all the warmth of a circling vulture. Anyone who lingered too near the princess for too long received a look that made Taza's opinion perfectly clear.

Gwen had grown accustomed to it, or at least as accustomed as one could become to being constantly supervised. In her culture, a princess was expected to remain untouched and above reproach until her wedding night, and now that Gwen was formally engaged, Taza had taken that responsibility with renewed, and increasingly exhausting, seriousness.

What Taza did not know was that the engagement itself was little more than a performance.

Gwen and Lord Atria had both agreed they wanted no part of the arrangement and had been quietly searching for some way to escape it. Unfortunately, neither of them had made much progress. Their parents had crafted the match too carefully, and every avenue they explored seemed to lead directly into another locked door.

She did not expect Lord Atria to attend tonight, although he had surprised her before. Gwen found herself wishing he would appear anyway. If nothing else, he would give her someone to talk to.

Without him, the evening promised to be painfully dull.

The gathering centered around the pending war, of course. Holo displays illuminated the room with shifting maps, casualty reports, fleet movements, and borders that seemed to change by the hour. Citizens gathered around them, speaking in grave, confident voices while Gwen remained exactly where tradition expected her to be, near enough to be seen, but never close enough to matter.

The thought left a familiar bitterness in her chest. Women in her society were expected to smile, listen, marry well, and strengthen alliances through charm rather than authority. The idea of her father allowing her into an actual war council was almost laughable. She could attend functions like this. She could make introductions, offer carefully measured opinions, and cultivate useful relationships.

But when decisions were made, she was still only a decoration for the kingdom. A jeweled bauble with a title. Tonight, merely appearing in an expensive gown and looking appropriately serene meant she had fulfilled most of what was expected of her.

It was becoming terribly tiring.

When Prince Varellan approached, however, Gwen straightened and offered him a warm smile. She knew who he was, naturally, though they had never been formally introduced. It was pleasant, at least, to finally place a face to the name.

From the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Taza hovering several paces behind them, watching the prince with the intensity of someone prepared to physically intervene should he venture an inch closer than propriety allowed.

Gwen resisted the urge to roll her eyes. It might have been amusing if it were not so irritating.

"Prince Varellan," she greeted, inclining her head gracefully. "It's so nice to finally meet you." When he gestured toward the holoscreens, Gwen followed his gaze. The pleasant expression on her face dimmed almost immediately.

War had a way of making even the grandest rooms feel cold.

"It's dreadful," she said quietly. "I can only hope it ends quickly, before our people are forced to suffer any more than they already have."

Wearing: x | Tags: Arcelon Varellan