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."

 

[Prystill Oasay]

Objective: Secure an Agreement for Non-hostility.
Location: Collaboration Tower, Corrox, Mahporeem
Outfit: Ministerial Uniform
Tags: Victport Graras | Quinn Varanin | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Lysander von Ascania | CT-312

Prystill Oasay had discovered that becoming Minister of Foreign Affairs involved considerably more meetings with people who, technically speaking, Mahporeem was still at war with than she had expected. Perhaps that should have been in the job description.

She entered the conference chamber shortly behind Victport Graras, the sharp click of black boots announcing her arrival before she offered the assembled Sith a polite smile. Pry had dressed for the occasion—or, more accurately, for the office. The black ministerial uniform was considerably more elaborate than anything she had worn during her years in COMECI, tailored close through the waist before falling into long split panels behind her. Dark purple embroidery broke the severity of the black, while polished silver trim, rank insignia, and the symbols of Mahporeem made very clear that she was not merely another aide accompanying the High Commander. Her green hair had been gathered into a long, immaculate braid. Even her usually expressive features had been encouraged toward something resembling proper ministerial dignity.

Behind her came MX-4X. The protocol droid carried a datapad against its chest and moved with the dutiful precision of a machine that Pry had already informed—twice—that it was here to translate obscure diplomatic terminology and retrieve information, not rescue its mistress from conversations it deemed awkward. Whether MX-4X had accepted that distinction remained uncertain.

Pry's golden eyes moved across their guests as introductions were made. Princess Quinn Varanin. Dark Councilor. Sith Order. Lysander von Ascania. Sith Covenant. CT-312. Names, titles, affiliations. Pry committed each to memory even as MX-4X quietly recorded everything else. The Sith had requested to come here rather than have Mahporeem travel to them. That interested her. So did the absence of anything resembling immediate hostility. There were undoubtedly enough weapons, Force abilities, security precautions, and contingency plans concentrated inside Collaboration Tower to turn a diplomatic incident into a very short war, but nobody appeared particularly eager to test them. That was encouraging.

Then there was Amalia Visconti. Pry offered the N&Z CEO the same pleasant acknowledgement she had given everyone else, though she regarded the corporation's presence with rather more private interest. N&Z had provided the venue and security. Now Amalia was apparently facilitating. Useful. It also meant Pry intended to remember exactly which interests in the room belonged to Mahporeem and which merely happened to overlap with them.

"Tea for me as well, please," Pry answered Amalia before glancing toward MX-4X. "And nothing for Max. He becomes insufferable when people pretend protocol droids need refreshments."

"Minister Oasay, I have never—"

Pry's smile widened. "See?"

She moved to her place beside Victport, allowing the little exchange to die naturally rather than attempting to manufacture solemnity afterward. Only when she sat did Pry become aware of how carefully she had been controlling her breathing. Annoying.

Her golden eyes returned to Quinn. Pry had known Sith before. Not across negotiating tables. Not from intelligence dossiers or diplomatic briefings. She had known one from the considerably less comfortable position of belonging to one.

It had been better than the Hutt. That was a sentence Pry rarely allowed herself to examine too closely. Her Sith master had treated her better than the Hutt who had owned her before, but there were certain standards against which being better meant very little. Kindness did not erase ownership. Neither did patience, gifts, privileges, or those moments when Pry had almost managed to convince herself that her circumstances weren't so terrible.

She remembered too well what it felt like when someone could be perfectly pleasant while possessing enough power to make your choices irrelevant. So Quinn's courtesy did not entirely reassure her. If anything, it was familiar.

Pry kept that recognition behind an easy smile. She wasn't a slave standing beside a Sith anymore. She was Prystill Oasay, Minister of Foreign Affairs of the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant, seated beside its High Commander, on Mahporeem, with MX-4X hovering faithfully behind her and an entire government recognizing her authority. Her mind understood all of that.

Some older instinct still quietly catalogued where the Sith were, what they were watching, the changes in their voices, and the little shifts in posture that might precede displeasure. Pry decided not to fight the instinct. Fear was considerably more useful when you gave it a job. She had spent enough of her life constructing the proper image for other people. Foreign Affairs, she was discovering, required something slightly different. Propaganda demanded that everyone hear what you wanted them to hear.

Diplomacy required discovering what they actually wanted. And perhaps, in one peculiar respect, Pry was better prepared for this particular diplomatic assignment than most. She knew what Sith looked like when they were angry. She also knew what they looked like when they smiled.

Quinn's opening question was therefore considerably more interesting to Pry than any ceremonial greeting could have been. How did Mahporeem intend to distinguish itself from the Imperial Confederation? Her gaze shifted briefly toward Victport. There were a hundred answers Pry could have supplied. Some flattering. Some ideological. Several that would have looked wonderful beneath a COMECI seal and survived approximately three follow-up questions from an experienced diplomat. She kept them to herself.

It was Victport's government. Victport's vision. More importantly, the Sith had directed the question toward him. Pry wasn't going to begin her first significant diplomatic engagement as Minister by answering for the High Commander. Instead, she settled back into her chair, one leg crossing neatly over the other as MX-4X took position slightly behind her.

She watched Quinn. Not suspiciously. Carefully. There was a difference, and Pry knew it better than most. Because beneath the princess's pleasant delivery was the first question that actually mattered. Was Mahporeem merely the Imperial Confederation with a new flag? And, perhaps more importantly, Pry wondered what answer the Sith wanted to hear.

Her fingers rested lightly against the table as she waited for Victport's response. She noticed only afterward that her thumb had been rubbing slowly against the side of her forefinger. She stopped it. For once, Prystill Oasay was perfectly content not to be the person speaking. She could listen. Watch. Remember. And remind the frightened little part of herself, as many times as necessary, that nobody in this room owned her. She suspected that wouldn't be the only thing she learned before the meeting was over.

 

[Victport Graras]

VICTPORT GRARAS
CORROX, MAHPOREEM
COLLABORATION TOWER

They were at least cautious coming into the meeting, despite having asked Victport to host it on Imperial soil.

Quinn Varanin , CT-312 and Lysander von Ascania , the Sith delegation, had arrived. The first thing that struck Victport was just how young the entire group looked to him, in stark contrast to himself. Still, he knew better than anyone that age was not an indicator of skill or ability, and the Sith would not have sent them had they not been serious about meeting with him. Granted, when it came to practical experience, Victport probably had them all beat, but he couldn't underestimate them for even a second or take them lightly.

He would not make the same mistakes here that his predecessors had.

Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , who had come in The Lord of Hunger 's stead, was quick to offer the group refreshments, which Lysander von Ascania quickly took them up on, much to Victport's surprise. Granted, this was a diplomatic meeting, and the Sith had come under no false pretenses, but even Victport would not have had anything to drink until he knew that the beverages weren't poisoned or laced with some kind of chemical. Either Lysander von Ascania was far more foolish than Victport thought, far more trusting, or somehow already know that the drinks were safe to consume. Or maybe he didn't care, considering that company that he kept and those who he traveled with. Yet Victport feld that Quinn Varanin and CT-312 were not much different from himself, the aura and presence being nothing like that of The Lord of Hunger . Were they masking their abilities, or were they truly that weak in the force.

His musings were interrupted when Quinn Varanin began to speak.

"Thank you for having us. "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."

"The pleasure is all mine", Victport returned warmly as he started to mentally size up the delegates opposite him. "I am of course High Commander Victport Graras of the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant. With me is Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , who has already introduced herself as CEO of the N&Z Umbrella Corporation, and Foreign Minister Prystill Oasay , one of the integral members of Mahporeem High Command".

Victport waited for Quinn to take her seat, which she did.

"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."

"That is certainly quite generous of you, Dark Councilor Quinn", Victport replied, still trying to feel out what Quinn's intentions were and what she was thinking. "We are humbled by your praise, though I suspect the reason you are here is not simply for congratulations. Surely a call over comms or a holo-recording would have sufficed if all you had meant to do was say hello."

Perhaps Victport's statement had amused Quinn in some way, because he could hear it in the way she spoke.

"I find myself curious as to how you intend to distinguish yourselves from those who came before you. "Though I confess, you have already made a better impression. Your predecessors were never quite so willing to talk."

"My predecessors had a number of practical concerns that fed into their decision making, though they were perhaps a tad bit overzealous with their actions", Victport replied evenly, having taken note of the slight change in Quinn's tone of voice and how she had allowed the silence between them to linger uncomfortably for just a moment. Regardless of her age or looks, she was just as cunning and vicious as the rest of them, and Victport didn't doubt that she would have his head if things didn't go well today.

"Still", Victport continued, choosing his words carefully, "you can't fully fault them for their actions. After all, they were simply doing what they believed to be in the best interests of the Imperial Confederation. But of course the Imperial Confederation is no more, haven fallen apart and faded away into the annuals of history just like so many factions before them. My intention is that Mahporeem lasts far longer than they ever could have, naturally. One thing you'll find about the Mahporeenian people that you seldom find elsewhere is our ability to endure, to outlast and pass the test of time with flying colors. Our management here is no passing fad or mere circumstance of luck, but rather the deliberate result of hard work and an unyielding spirit, something I'm sure your people would appreciate."

"After all, one does not close itself off for a thousand years without learning the true meaning of patience, and one does not simply succumb to the challenges of the galaxy when its people have built up such a culture of resilience for all this time. Mahporeem will endure, no matter what it may face. That is the power of my people and my governance, and that is but one of the many differences you will find between me and my predecessors."

"But enough about me and my people. As I said before, if we had wanted to chat about our cultural differences, we could have done so over the holonet. I imagine your time is quite valuable, and for you to come all the way to us means you believe your matters are quite serious and worth discussing. I agree fully. So..."

It was now Victport's turn to lean into his dramatic side as he himself leaned forward, almost mirroring Quinn's action as she herself had leaned backwards.

"...what is it that you would like to discuss with us, emissary of the Sith Order?"

TAGS:
CT-312
Quinn Varanin
Prystill Oasay
Lysander von Ascania
Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin Lysander von Ascania Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory Victport Graras Prystill Oasay //:
//: Attire //:
//: Collaboration Tower //:

There was another Imperial power in the galaxy now. The Mahporeem Imperial Remnant. During her service with the Sith Order, diplomacy was not an opportunity CT-312 encountered particularly often. Usually, by the time she was involved, negotiations had already failed or someone had decided that going into a full scale war offered a more persuasive argument. It seems the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant had already shown themselves to be different from the other Imperials by choosing diplomacy first.

CT-312 followed a couple paces behind Quinn as they moved through the Collaboration Tower. Her camouflaged plated Halcyon Armour stood in stark contrast to the building's polished floors and pristine walls. Beside the Queen walked a man the Scout recognized from BARCA’s accumulated reports. Lysander von Ascania . Sith Covenant. CT-312 had never personally met him, but his name had appeared more than once in reports. Naboo during the Exhibition of Light and Voss-Ka.

Her visor angled briefly toward him before returning to the corridor ahead. Noting how the Mahporeem Remnant did not appear careless about its own security. Armed guards occupied nearly every junction they passed and squads of Enforcer droids were seen throughout the building. Surveillance cameras watched them from ceilings and scanners were incorporated into every entryways, checkpoints, and doors that lead further into the building.

BARCA quietly recorded everything and began organizing the information it processed. Small indicators flickered along CT-312’s HUD as cameras were identified as well as security positions. The corridors were mapped along with entry points, BARCA simply continued to gather information as they moved. CT-312 did the same, anything that could become relevant should the nature of the visit abruptly change.

However, through the bond, nothing suggested that Quinn expected it to. There had been a small flare of irritation, but it was brief enough that CT-312 wasn’t too alarmed. Replaced, was a calm warmth that occasionally passed. The Scout’s brow rose slightly behind the visor. Watching the brief exchange between Quinn and Lysander ahead of her.

Interesting. Whatever history existed between the two appeared to have been favorable. Quinn carried herself differently when it came to the opposite gender. Though the distinction was often small and unnoticeable, CT-312 had learned to recognize it. There was a less guarded tension around Lysander. It seems the two interactions went well. CT-312 caught Quinn’s glance and small nod when mentioning her role. A sequence of restrained electronic chirps sounded privately inside CT-312's helmet. Her eyes narrowed. BARCA decided this was an appropriate moment to remind her of several diplomatic behavioral recommendations it had compiled of the years. CT-312 dismissed the suggestions before BARCA could finish.

She knew how diplomacy worked… mostly.

Lysander acknowledged her involvement without objection, her visor settled on him properly for the first time. CT-312 dipped her helmet in return. “Likewise, Lysander.” BARCA gave another quiet chirp. “And thank you for accompanying the Queen on Naboo and Voss-Ka. I was occupied with other assignments during both.”

By the time they entered the conference chamber, BARCA had brought forward the available information concerning those expected to attend. Names appeared briefly beside images and condensed notes before minimizing along the side of CT-312’s HUD. Victport Graras had been inside waiting for them. The Scout stepped inside after Quinn and Lysander, her eyes swept across the chamber noting everything in the room and if there was anything unusual. BARCA conducted its own examination. Nothing immediately warranted concern.

CT-312 moved closer to Quinn, her gloved hands carefully gathered the Queen’s larger cloak from her shoulders. She folded it neatly over one armored forearm before using her free hand to draw Quinn’s chair outward as the Queen began introducing their delegation. Once she had settled into it, CT-312 smoothly returned the chair to the table. Taking a step back, she positioned herself behind Quinn and Lysander. Close enough if needed to intervene, but without looming directly over either of them. Her posture settled into an attention: one arm carrying Quinn’s cloak nearly across, while her other rested freely at her side.

Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory was the first to address them directly. She greeted the delegation and offered refreshments as the meeting prepared to begin. CT-312 kept silent at the offer, declining without interrupting. The sound of approaching footsteps drew her attention towards the entrance. Boots clicking rhythmically against the floor and a protocol droid followed close behind. Its purpose appeared to be of a personal assistant as it carried a datapad and remained attentive to its charge. BARCA shifted one of CT-312’s visual feeds to the newcomer.

Prystill Oasay . The available information appeared beside her HUD before collapsing once more into the Scout’s peripheral display. She watched behind the visor as Prystil took her place with the others. It didn’t take long for something about the woman to stand out. It wasn’t casual attention that was expected. CT-312 observed how Prystil seemed to quietly study each member of their delegation. From Quinn, to Lysander, then her. The Scout’s visor remained motionless when the attention reached her.

She was… observant. Perhaps the most perceptive of the three. BARCA continued recording unobtrusively while CT-312 watched the woman’s mannerisms. Something small caught her attention, a thumb brushing repeatedly along the side of her forefinger that lasted only for a moment before it stopped. Perhaps a habit or simply a nervous tic.

Victorport soon began speaking about Mahporeem and those who preceded them. Drawing a distinction between them now of endurance and resilience. As the meeting would continue underway, BARCA became the second pair of eyes and ears as everything was recorded and the information accumulated. CT-312 remained motionless, standing attentively as she simply watched and listened.

If the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant truly intended to prove itself different from what had come before, she was curious to see precisely where that difference began.