Private A Conversation in Corrox

[Victport Graras]

VICTPORT GRARAS
CORROX, MAHPOREEM
COLLABORATION TOWER

They had insisted on coming to Mahporeem.

Victport Graras was not one to show weakness, and he had been more than willing to go into Sith held territory to meet with Quinn Varanin and her negotiators. But they had insisted on coming to Mahporeem to check the planet out, and Victport, despite his misgivings, had relented, allowing the Sith to come to Mahporeem for the first time since the fall of the Imperial Confederation.

This meeting was perhaps one of the most important for Victport and his fledging Imperial Remnant.

Technically speaking, the Imperial Remnant and the Sith Order were still in a state of war. The Mahporeem Imperial Remnant, having been recognized as the legitimate successor state of the Imperial Confederation, inherited with that title all of the wars that the Confederation had gotten into during its final days of existence. As such, the Imperial Remnant technically found itself in a state of conflict with the Sith Order, the Sith Covenant and the Mandalorian Empire, having yet to sign any sort of ceasefire agreements or peace treaties with those factions. Though the Imperial Remnant had no love lost for the Sith and the Mandalorians, practical considerations were weighing heavily on Graras, and should the Sith and Mandalorians team up to finish what they had started with the Confederation, it could prove to be disastrous for Mahporeem. The Diarchy had already been completed destroyed, and unlike Mahporeem, no successor state had taken its place. Victport very much wished to avoid the same fate for his fledging empire.

The place of the meeting had been selected as Collaboration Tower, who's environment had been built to impress visitors from off planet. Naturally, Victport had secured the full cooperation of the N&Z Umbrella Corporation, who were undoubtedly eager to jump at the chance to be able to sell their wares within Sith territory after their failure to convince the Sith to allow them to do so during their last meeting with the Sith Order's council. Of course, that came with the stipulation that The Lord of Hunger be allowed to attend as a dignitary, something that somewhat worried Victport. Still, Victport had agreed, and with him he had also brought his Foreign Affairs Minister Prystill Oasay to ensure that negotiations went as smoothly as possible.

Of course, Victport was no fool, and he realized that Mahporeem was likely to be in direct conflict with the Sith and Mandalorians sooner rather than later. Still, the more time Victport could buy for himself the better it would be for Mahporeem, and the more time it would give him to make alliances with some of the other major galactic factions and prepare his people for any upcoming conflicts and wars. The real question was how the Sith would react to him and his faction. Victport, for his part, refused to show any sort of fear or weakness, which is why he had elected to go into this meeting without any Ysalamiri or force defenses. He didn't want or need them, and given the bloody nose that Mahporeem had given the Sith at Brosi despite the Confederation's loss, he didn't think the Sith would try anythings themselves.

Still, it remained to be seen if his gamble paid off at all, and for Victport, only one thing was certain: that nothing was certain after all, and that he wouldn't know what to expect of the Sith until they arrived here in the meeting room...

TAGS:
Quinn Varanin
CT-312
Prystill Oasay
The Lord of Hunger

 

[Quinn Varanin]

//: Victport Graras //: Prystill Oasay //: The Lord of Hunger //:
//: Lysander von Ascania //: CT-312 //:
//: Attire //:

Duty and Diplomacy.

Two things rarely spoken of when discussing a Sith Lord, yet both were constants in the Echani's life. Duty to those she served—the people, the Empire, and everything in between.

Diplomacy, however, she hadn't fully understood quite yet.

Her mind wandered back to previous incidents. The plan had always been for her to talk, to discuss, to listen—yet others inevitably arrived with agendas of their own. It was frustrating, but something she just had to accept.

Part of her wondered if it was all for show. A performance that allowed the Sith to pretend they had a soul. Quinn scoffed at the thought, knowing all too well that some of her kind would have laughed at what she was doing, mocked her openly for it.

But brutality had its place, and diplomacy had its own.

She left the brutality to the uncouth.

Like a certain Sangnir.

They were led down a long hallway, Quinn's attention occasionally straying toward the windows and the landscape beyond. The world belonged to the so-called 'scrapper' Imperials, a moniker she had seen repeated with pride while researching their territories. It was interesting, even if she didn't pretend to fully understand it.

But when people took pride in something, one didn't necessarily have to understand it.

One simply respected it.

Her attention shifted to the blonde man beside her. Despite her natural instincts, she kept pace with him. Rumors or truths, she understood enough to know he had endured much since she had last seen him. Her brow furrowed as his profile briefly reminded her of someone else.

An annoyance burned at her core.

Then quickly fizzled.

"Lysander," she started, stepping closer until her stride matched his as she handed him a datapad.

"It seems we're meeting with quite a few people today." A soft smile touched her lips, her attention remaining on him as they continued down the corridor.

"I don't fully trust them not to have anti-Force measures in place. If something is missed, please take care of it." She paused, exhaling softly as her gaze returned ahead. The meeting room drew closer.

"And don't feel as though you're not allowed to speak. I trust your judgment." Her smile returned. "I've heard great things about you."

As pleased as she was that Lysander had accompanied her, Quinn would have preferred being somewhere else with him entirely — riding speeder bikes, perhaps, pushing one of his creations until either the machine or one of them finally found their limit.

Her smile curled a little wider at the thought. It became a small comfort before politics.

"312 will be checking for anything unusual as well. She's head of my security, so don't hesitate to communicate with her."

Quinn nodded toward the stoic Trooper keeping pace a step behind them. Her gaze followed for only a moment, carefully minding the affection she allowed herself to show. She didn't linger, but through their bond, 312 would feel the quiet gratitude radiating from her.

Quinn felt safer knowing the Trooper was close. More often than not, when they were separated, things had a habit of going poorly.

They arrived at the meeting room, the doors opening to admit Quinn and her delegation. Her eyes swept across the room before she crossed the threshold, taking in the individuals waiting for them and allowing those accompanying her the briefest opportunity to judge the space.

Once everything appeared safe, Quinn stepped inside and 312 removed the large cloak from her shoulders.

Unlike many Sith, Quinn's presence within the Force was quiet. Small and nearly nonexistent.

A stark contrast to the oppressive presences these Imperials may have encountered before, whether across negotiation tables or battlefields.
One hand brushed lightly down her skirt before she waited to take her seat. Her attention settled upon the man she assumed commanded the others, offering him a slight bow of her head and a warm smile.

"Thank you for having us."

She cleared her throat softly before gesturing toward those accompanying her.

"I'm Quinn Varanin, Princess and Dark Councilor of the Sith Order. With me today is Lysander von Ascania, a trusted advisor and a delegate from the Sith Covenant, and my personal guard and head of security, CT-312."

She suspected the Imperial delegation already knew her name and titles. Still, manners were manners.

Once introductions were finished, Quinn took her seat.

"We have several matters to discuss, but first, allow me to offer my congratulations. To establish yourselves as a galactic power is no small accomplishment, and whispers of your success have traveled far enough to catch even my attention."

Quinn spoke gracefully, with a hint of amusement.

"I find myself curious as to how you intend to distinguish yourselves from those who came before you."

Her gaze settled on Victport, lingering for just a moment longer than necessary. A hint of a smile played at her lips.

"Though I confess, you have already made a better impression." She leaned back slightly.

"Your predecessors were never quite so willing to talk."

 

[Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory]

LOCATION: Corrox, Mahporeem - Collaboration Tower
TAG: Victport Graras - Quinn Varanin - Lysander von Ascania - Prystill Oasay - CT-312

While security was being handled by Mahporeem's own local security and military detachments, the building itself found its security being handled primarily by the N&Z, with squads Arbalesk Enforcer droids supplementing the already standard N&Z security Teams.

In the meantime though, as the meeting between the High Commander and a member of the Sith Order's elite was a somewhat delicate subject, it had officially been decided to keep it within a small group of people. Though originally, her own superior was meant to take up the role of facilitating the diplomatic talks and attending as a neutral party... given the fact it was a member of the Sith Order, that was asking the impossible.

While the N&Z could show the Sith Order why Imperials were superior in their conduct and their proper etiquette in diplomatic manners, The Lord of Hunger was fairly certain that if the person in question was of high enough rank, they might've been more than capable to figure out who and more importantly what he was. because of this, it was a better idea and a proper precaution to let Amalia take on the role he had managed to get for himself. As she had already been the only voice of reason in many a diplomatic talks beforehand, and was known to be levelheaded and surprisingly stoic, he was certain that the High Commander wouldn't mind.

However, there were still some issues...the N&Z wasn't keen on dealing with the Sith Order or their croonies in any capacity in regards to trade. They had resolutely chosen to shut out the N&Z and as such, the N&Z would clearly opt to shut them out of Mahporeem when it came to any talks in regards to trade.

Still, as a generous host who would serve rather than dominate those within the conference room, Amalia entered as Victport Graras and Quinn Varanin had at the very least been given the time to greet one another properly. calmly nodding towards the Sith representative and the High commander, she tilted her head a bit.

"Before I introduce myself...would any of you care for some refreshments," With her gaze turning from the High Commander towards the dark Councilor and her entourage, the otherwise neutral expression of Amalia only faltered slightly as she arched up an eyebrow in curiosity. "You have travelled for quite some time I might imagine, there is no distaste or dishonour in requesting something to slake your hunger or thirst in this meeting."

Smiling for only a second, the woman took place in a seat at the side, placing her hands across one another as she looked at both the High Commander and the representative. "I am Amalia Visconti, CEO of the N&Z Umbrella Corporation, here to facilitate and oversee these diplomatic talks at the behest of his Grace, the High Commander Victport Graras."

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Quinn Varanin | CT-312
Victport Graras Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory Prystill Oasay​

Walking alongside Quinn, Lysander found the notion of a diplomatic mission almost strange in its overdue quality. Minds that did not resort to violence first were few among their brethren; fewer still seemed interested in cultivating the habit. It did require modest effort, after all. The recent stint in Republic space left him disoriented in ways, and only now was he beginning to feel aligned with himself again.

The datapad was accepted with a turn of one hand as he regarded the other Sith. “Quite a few indeed,” the Emissary agreed. “Enough that I’ll probably need to remember everyone’s names, methods of lying, and whether they take their caf black.” Not so different from a bit of levity before battle; something to ease the nerves. “We should treat the meeting as a shared effort. Between your read of the people and my read around them, we may manage something useful. You won’t need to spend the meeting wondering whether someone has prepared a trap beneath the table.”

A thoughtful curve graced his lips before fading. The Imperials had never occupied a simple place in his mind. His view of them was mixed at best. Twice, Imperials he'd known targeted Brosi. The coincidence would have been almost absurd if the consequences had not been so personal, for Brosi was also home to Spore Industries, his own venture, and its Governor happened to be akin to a sister.

Those battles occurred when he was but an acolyte, back when he was still finding his footing in the galaxy. Time did not erase the resentment, but it did teach him better ways to carry it.

His gaze shifted over his shoulder toward 312, then returned to the hallway ahead. “312 has my respect. I’ll make sure she’s included if I notice anything unusual.”

The trust was recognized for what it was; rare, for those who walked in the Dark. “Some within the Covenant consider me the voice of reason now,” he added dryly. “I’m not entirely certain what they saw, but I suppose I should try to live up to it.”

As the meeting room doors parted, he deferred the next step to Quinn, following at a respectful distance. His attention swept across the chamber before crossing the threshold. Once his name and position were announced, Lysander offered the Imperial delegation a small nod. “Thank you for receiving us.” Only after the Dark Councilor took a seat did he claim his own, arranging his hands before him.

When Amalia joined them, his attention shifted in her direction. Courtesy eased the sharpness in his emerald eyes; he inclined his head once more. "Ms. Visconti. Tea, if you would be so kind, provided it causes you no inconvenience."