Faction A Surprise; But A Welcome One [High Republic Senate]

[Ravion Corvalis]

The session had been scheduled light by design.

Naboo Municipal Materials Harmonisation: brick tolerances, façade density, riverbank load limits for heritage construction along the Theed waterways. The Legislation had been selected for its harmlessness. For its ability to not fill a room. The kind of matter that encouraged senators to loosen their collars, skim datapads, think of other things and make their excuses to not be present.

Ravion Corvalis had made the choice also by design.

The Naboo benches were occupied, but they sat incomplete. Interim delegates sat where permanent authority should have been. Acting stewards, committee liaisons; the people entrusted to maintain shape, not to exert force. To warm seats. The structure remained upright, but only because nothing leaned against it.
Ravion's eyes took in their corner and the seat that mattered the most, he smiled; it was empty.

The Senator of Naboo, the traditional holder of capital authority; had been reassigned days earlier. Dominic had been elevated publicly, praised generously, and was now being sent far enough away to be unreachable when proximity was about to matter more than he ever knew it would.

The vote passed quietly with a ripple of assent. A tidy tally. No raised voices. The historical value of Theed's main streets would be protected for years to come.
The chamber exhaled.

"Before adjournment," the Speaker of the Chamber said, a stern woman who in the absence of the Interim Councillor had presided over the sitting, her eyes flicking across her docket, "there remains a matter of procedural clarification."
The noise did not return. That was the first warning.

"The enactment conditions of the Magistrate Administrative Continuity Act fall, by statute, under the authority of Naboo's capital holder, she continued. "In the Senator's absence, it has been suggested that contact be made to confirm intent."

Several heads turned. Not sharply. Not suspiciously. It was part of the article that Naboo as the capital planet held authority over the Magistrate position in all intended purposes. It was Dominic who was supposed to take the role without a vote.

Expectantly eyes fell upon the Naboo seat. The empty seat. The position having been sent on the Outbound Flight. The position is busy with all that preparation and planning. That empty chair of design

Ravion then rose as though answering a question already posed.

"Speaker," he said evenly, "approaches have already been made."
The words landed with careful weight.
"The Senator for Naboo has been fully briefed. His present assignment places him beyond immediate reach, but not beyond awareness."

Their was a pause as the aides and interims on the Naboo bench did their expected closing of ranks as discussion overtook their composure.

"But the Act does not require confirmation," Ravion continued. "Only the absence of objection from a seated capital authority."
He did not look at the empty chair. He did not need to.
"At present," he said, gesturing towards the Naboo bench, the chancellor's chair, and various other empty seats , "there is no such authority seated."

A clerk murmured. Text scrolled. The chamber shifted, not forward, but inward.

"Under the Act," Ravion went on, "jurisdiction passes to the Capitol Council in instances of extended absence. Malastare presently holds the third active seat upon that council."

This was not rhetoric. It was careful and instrumental bookkeeping.

"As Malastare's representative," he said, "I am empowered to speak into procedural activation."

The speaker nodded slowly.

"And," Ravion added with a gentle, almost reluctant tone "as a native of Naboo myself, I occupy a position explicitly anticipated by the Act's authors."

That did it.
There was no overall notion of ambition. No it was merely words of eligibility.

"The Act was written," Ravion said, "to prevent paralysis, not to invite contest. To rectify things to their rightful place and put the power back into the hands of voted representatives until such a time that order could resume."

He inclined his head.

"So with the powers at hand. I am invoking it. I stand the order of the Magistration Act and as representative to the Capital Bloc reluctantly but with great honour and respect take upon the seat of Malastare the position of Magistrate of the Senate."

No one objected. There wasn't anyone in session who could.

"And as Magistrate," Ravion continued, "my first obligation is constitutional balance."

He let the word settle before continuing. There seemed to be hesitation coming from the speaker's chair, like she had just realised what had happened.

"At present, Naboo maintains an overlap between ceremonial sovereignty and executive advisement. An arrangement sustainable only when its institutions are whole."

At present they were not. The Chancellor remained missing, the elected king sat upon her chair and the Voice of the Naboo people sat upon the throne not elected for her. It was time to separate the Republic from the traditions of Naboo once more.

"The Crown remains intact," Ravion said calmly. "Its legitimacy is not in question."

He paused and locked eyes with the speaker, so far nobody had said a word. Ravion's voice having fast secured all authority in the chamber from everyone else.

"The following action does not diminish it." The chamber waited, they wanted this. "It restores it."

Under the Restoration Provision, executive hold over the senate was withdrawn from the monarchy for the duration of the Magistrates ability to act as Interim Councillor, the power was not revoked, not censured, simply relieved.

The King would return to his throne and remain crowned. Seated and revered in his position chosen by the people of Naboo and most importantly removed from the head of the Republic.

"The Crown shall stand as sovereign above politics," Ravion said, "not entangled within them. As Magistrate I issue a period of Interim holding, in which candidates for Chancellor shall be selected by my office and placed into vote within the next ten day cycle. At the end of this ten days I shall retain the position of Magistrate under the guidance of a duly elected Head of State."

All executive authority vested itself elsewhere now; precisely where the Act had always intended it to go. Into the hands of the Magistrate.
The Speaker reviewed the statute once more.

"So entered into record," she said.

No vote followed.
None was required.
Ravion sat.

The only man who could have truly opposed the moment was about to be light-years away.
Aurelian was removed and yet remained enthroned, therefore making him now unreachable, yet less dangerous than he was before.
And the Act, long ratified and long delayed, had finally been allowed to complete itself.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Sometime later, in hyperspace heading to Abednedo

Aurelian stood in the narrow office as hyperspace light washed the viewport white and blue, bands sliding past like a pulse he could not slow. The message still glowed on the console. Administrative notice. Procedural activation. Relief of duty. He read it once, then again, jaw tight, breath measured. He had expected this. He had felt it circling for weeks. Too much reach. Too visible. Too young. They wanted him back where they could dress him in tradition and call it balance.

The desk went first. He drove his shoulder into it and it skidded, caught, then flipped. Datapads burst across the deck. A shelf followed, then another. He swept a hand through a stack of files and watched them scatter, teeth clenched as the sound echoed too loudly in the small space. His chest burned. Not loss. He did not want the chair. He had stepped into it because the Republic needed a spine and its Chancellor was missing. He had held the line while they counted favors and sharpened smiles. He had done the work.

"Ungrateful," he said, low at first, then louder as he kicked a crate into the bulkhead. His knuckles throbbed. He welcomed it.

Tona hovered at the threshold, steady as always. "What would you like to do?"

He laughed once and dragged a hand through his hair. "What I like doesn't matter to them," he said. "It never did."

The message chimed again with a soft insistence. He crossed the room and slapped the console dark. His reflection stared back at him in the glass, eyes bright with heat. King again. Safe. Contained.

"No," he said, to the room, to the Senate, to the idea that he would sit still and smile. He turned and bellowed toward the cockpit. "Pilot. Turn us the feth around once we exit hyperspace."

Aurelian planted his boots and leaned against the wall breathing hard. "Cancel Abednedo," he called. "Send apologies. This is not my chit show anymore."

Tona nodded and moved to relay it.

Aurelian wiped blood from his knuckle on his sleeve and straightened, anger cooling into something harder. They had relieved him of duty. Fine. He would go home. He would sit the throne they were so eager to hand back. And when the Republic came asking again, he would decide whether to answer.

​

 

[Monaray Dod]

The dining hall of the Palace of Toshara was an exercise in Neimoidian opulence as the entire structure was designed to resemble the hanging cities of Cato Neimoidia, the planet he once represented within the Galactic Alliance. Dod sat alone at the head of a long, obsidian-glass table, the air cooled to a precise comfortable temperature that ignored the humidity of the moon outside. Before him sat a plate of delicate muja fruit compote and lightly seared guala fish imported, expensive and entirely tasteless to him in the moment.

His attention was fixed on the flickering blue glow of the nearby holofeed. Watching with fork raised in the air as Ravion Corvalis dismantled the Naboo-centric executive structure with the clinical precision of a droid surgeon. "Magistrate.." Dod said with a hint of annoyance, "Clever. Using the brick tolerances of Theed to bury a coup."

He set his fork down. The fish grew cold. Dod wasn't angry; he was calculating the affect this would have on the Trade Federation's ambitions within the region of the High Republic. The removal of King Aurelian from the position of Interm Chancellor was a double-edged vibroblade. On one hand it stabilized the Republic by separating the Naboo Monarchy from the Executive, a move the Trade Federation had advocated for internally.

On the other hand, Corvalis now held the keys to the selection of the next Chancellor. He stood, his robes whispering against the stone floor, and moved to his private sanctum. He tapped a sequence into a heavy, encrypted transmitter. The flickering image of Lodd Grimmin , the Trade Monarch materialized before him in the center of the darkened room.

"Senator Dod," the Monarch's voice rasped, heavy with the weight of Neimoidia's lingering debts to its creditors. "The feed from the capital is... illuminating."

"Corvalis has invoked the Magistration Act, Excellency," Dod reported, his head bowed slightly. "Aurelian is sidelined. The board is being reset for a new election cycle. Ten days."

Lodd Grimmin's eyes narrowed within the projection. "The High Republic is adrift, Monaray. Our influence has withered since the Galactic Alliance crumbled. We are being squeezed by Imperial Core regulations on one side and Syndicate ransoms on the other. Not to mention the fact that our motion to droid-ify the Outbound Flight mission failed to garner enough votes."

"The Magistrate will select the candidates," Dod noted cautiously. "He will look for stability. For experience."

"Precisely," the Monarch replied, his tone suddenly sharp. "The Republic is terrified of collapse and a possible invasion from the Black Sun or the Eleventh Sith Empire. They have tried a dreamer in Chancellor Kalantha and a King in Aurelian. Now they need a technocrat. Someone who understands the machinery of a multi-sector government. Someone who survived the Galactic Alliance Senate and understands how to navigate a crumbling state."

Dod felt a chill of realization at the thought of being asked to run for Chancellor himself, knowing that his colleague in Sentapoth Findos had failed before in securing the Executive Position. "Excellency?"

"You will announce your candidacy, Monaray. Do not wait for Corvalis to find you; make yourself the only logical choice. You are the Senator of Toshara a 'humble' frontier representative but you carry the legislative weight of the old GA. Remind them that while they play at 'High' ideals, you know how to keep the ships moving and the credits flowing."

Dod bowed low, his mind already drafting the opening lines of his address. "As you command, Trade Monarch. I shall prepare the announcement."

 

[Pillar of Faith]

Spoiler

Just a reminder we are running a thread here where Ravion has finagled Aurelian out of the Interim Chancellor position. He has assumed the Magistrate of the Republic role (Second only to Chancellor) and has put forth a time period of 10 IC days for Ravion to put forth candidates to be the Chancellor. Ravion will retain the second in command role but we fully intend to have a new head of government.

We currently have this NPC option that can be put in place for this in case no one is interested. However, we still do want to open it up to you all to be able to RP the position if so desired. So if this is something you wish to see a character of yours do. Let me know OOC and IC with Ravion and this thread.

I do have expectations when it comes to this position as it is one of the busier areas of the faction. I would like you to have been active with us (10 posts in faction threads over 6 months). However if you have a new character that you think would be great for this role just DM me and we can discuss it. Going forward for the position, we would like you to be involved in most faction threads if you can, promoting Senate & Great House RP within and outside of the faction.

NPC: Damos Rennar

Damos Rennar had known this day was coming long before the chamber exhaled.

He stood in a quiet chamber of the Theed Royal Palace. The building carried memory in its walls. Naboo always did. It rewarded patience and punished spectacle. He approved of that. His hands rested behind his back, posture spare, controlled, the way it had been trained into him decades earlier when intelligence was still something you survived rather than administered.

Ravion Corvalis had been an expected variable. A capable one. Damos had cultivated that relationship carefully, feeding him precedent, reinforcing his understanding of dormant statutes, letting him arrive at conclusions that felt earned. Ravion's rise into the Magistracy had not surprised him. What concerned Damos was not Ravion, but the others. The ones who smelled vacancy and mistook silence for weakness. He had learned early that ambition was rarely announced. It moved through aides, committee chairs, quiet promises made after adjournment.

He had spent months closing those paths.

Files had been surfaced at the right time. Missteps contextualized. Old favors called in and repaid with distance rather than loyalty. He had ensured that no single faction could assemble momentum without exposing itself to scrutiny. If someone reached too fast, they did so alone. If they waited, they waited under watch. Experience had taught him that control was not about dominance, but about timing.

Damos's qualifications were already known to those who mattered. Decades of counterespionage. Crisis containment across three sectors. Wars that never happened because he dismantled them before the first declaration. He had advised leaders who never spoke his name in public and survived purges that erased louder men. His loyalty to the Republic had never wavered.

Today was preparation, not ceremony.

In a secured office overlooking the gardens, he reviewed final intelligence briefs. Not threats. Alignments. He adjusted messaging for the Security Council, drafted contingency advisories for the Chancellor vote, and authorized discreet movement of assets that would stabilize the transition period Ravion had just created. The palace guards passed without noticing him. That was ideal.

When the bid came, it would not feel like a grab. It would feel inevitable.

Damos Rennar closed his datapad and allowed himself a single measured breath. The weave was holding.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

A stylus tapped idly atop a datapad as Dominique lounged comfortably in her pod. This was the reason for volunteering the man to deep space. Not petty at all. To think they'd written all these procedures assuming the best of intentions. Naboo was a delightful world full of dreams, but not terribly experienced. And the Republic came out of all that with its foundations built on hope and expectation. Rife with opportunity for people with equally lofty if radically different visions than their predecessors.

Uncertainty. Anathema to profit. That's what this situation was. Someone had claimed the right to ascend to Magistrate and then immediately proposed to vacate the Chancellorship in favor of a new candidate.

With a flick of the stylus, a message was sent to Denon's fleets patrolling the edges of Republic space. They needed to be made aware of the turbulence in political waters. Certain parties might think now was their time to strike -- that its Senate would be too enveloped in process and procedure of selecting a new leader to be paying attention to anything else. Fortunately, their defenses were not directly managed by the bureaucrats. Unfortunately, they could disrupt an otherwise orderly system quite easily. So, what was it Ravion wanted, really?

Well, whatever his intention in those ten days, Denon's fleet answered to her.

But that was the smallest of matters to content with. The pressing matter was what followed those ten days. Something she'd contemplated once Aurelian confided this very maneuvering had been in the works. She wondered if he'd foreseen it happening quite like this, however. It was a grave matter. Pivotal even. The Chancellor might not be a dictator, but they exerted influence in social and economic life. While Dominique certainly liked Sibylla and Aurelian, her interest in the Republic for Denon's sake hadn't been because of friendship. Indeed, friendship did not need to abide political borders. No, it had been and would remain the government and its market's stability. If either of those began to erode, Dominique would find herself in an unenviable position.

"Ipola." Dominique quietly laid the stylus to rest, and reached over to draw flute of sparkling liquor to herself.

A slender woman with neatly tied back hair with an even slimmer nose bowed slightly as she came to a stop just shot of where Dominique sat. "Senator."

"Have a memo drafted for the Magistrate, Ravion Corvalis . Inform him Senator and Director Dominique Vexx of Denon, Crown Jewel of the Republic, submits herself as canadidate for Chancellor. Include an assortment of high value initiatives, projects, and exchanges this Office has brokered between parties foreign and domestic. Make certain the Mandalorian Empire and Imperial Confederacy feature prominently at the top. Add the terraforming effort of Kenari as well to demonstrate our contributions." Dominique took a slow, shallow sip of the electrifying drink. "Then book a moment of Director Ayumi Pallopides 's time."

"Of course, Senator. Shall I draft a memo for the Executive Board as well?"

A smile spread across her lips. "No need, Dear. I'll inform them myself. I'm certain they'll have as many questions about this as they did our Cloning project." And no small number would suggest trying to leverage Dominique as their way of controlling the Republic as well. The tail attempting to wag the dog. Their efforts to excise her authority were adorable. Something she'd have an army of analysts re-examine every stature to keep Ravion or anyone else from pulling a similar stunt with her should matters proceed.

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

​

Not for the first time, Verity Stuyveris found herself pleased that she was in no hurry to return to Druckenwell. Things at home remained in stasis, and no amount of her presence was going to chivy them along. In fact, she thought it was rather the opposite. The more that she was seen working -- doing the job that she was asking for the legislature's ratification to continue doing -- the more she looked like a natural fit to keep doing it. Which is why she was present at what promised to be a dreadfully dull session on Naboo Municipal Materials Harmonisation, which then became something else entirely.

Verity found Naboo's outsized influence on the affairs of a government that presently touted itself as a major player on the galactic stage to be charming most of the time. The monarchy, the magistrate, the senate, wasn't it all rather quaint. But something in this struck her as rather underhand.

Perhaps because it was rather underhand.

She listened intently, the cup of tea she had brewed for herself -- a second measure for Eharl Sarn remained in the insulated pot to keep warm pending his arrival -- cooling on her desk as her hands busied themselves jotting notes on her datapad. Her appointment was relatively recent, and she had limited insight into the personalities that dominated this particular institution. There were the ones who wore their intentions on their sleeves -- the Trade Federation envoys, the lobbyists, even Senator Sarn seemed rather scrutable -- but the Chancellor? Ex-Chancellor, now, she amended internally. It seemed rather an unceremonious way to show him to the exit.

Was there something there? Some private animosity? Some political vendetta? If Naboo was anything like Druckenwell, it could be either, or both, or some combination that had not taken shape yet. Verity's glacial eyes narrowed at the Magistrate's position as she considered what she was witnessing. Curious, she thought. Someone shrewd enough to know that an assassin never wears the crown, yet strikes anyway. Why? Why now?

At the announcement of a leadership contest, Verity heard an uptick in whispers and the fluttering of flimsiplast and the chimes of datapads. Her eyebrows lifted and she leaned forward, trying to see who among her colleagues had recently decided they were the natural choice for a promotion to the big chair. Verity wouldn't dream of it, herself. She was too junior to have any credibility as a candidate, and too tenuous in her position to argue her case with any degree of sincerty if she was inclined -- which she was not, especially. At a time like this the High Republic needed stability.

Not enough to retain its interim Chancellor, apparently. But enough that appointing an interim Senator as a Chancellor would have been a fool's gambit.

Still, as dear Senator Sarn had reminded her, Verity did have some responsibility to the High Republic, the institution to which Druckenwell did, invariably, pay a sizable tax bill. She touched her podium controls to indicate her intention to speak. A few moments later, when the signal was recognized, she rose. "Madam Speaker, thank you. I rise this morning to raise a Point of Information: are there now, or will there be made available, the criteria upon which the Magistrate will weigh and put forth his nominations? May we Senators gain some insight to this process, the better with which to inform our constituents? Thank you, I yield."

Ravion Corvalis | Dominique Vexx | Monaray Dod | Aurelian Veruna | Pillar of Faith​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

​

Location: Theed Palace
Items: x x x x x

The holobroadcast cast its cool light across the throne room, glinting off marble floors and the gold-threaded banners of Naboo. Sibylla stood before the throne room holo-array in full regalia, silks falling in careful lines, the circlet at her brow reflecting the light steadily even as her thoughts were not.

She listened as Senator Ravion moved the terms forward - - the ones she had already reviewed and she had signed because there had been no lawful means to stop them. Not because she stood against Aurelian, but because the law had been arranged to leave her no other choice.

Then came the second motion.

The Interim Queen's lips pressed together as a quiet, contained anger stirred beneath her carefully painted kohl rimmed eyes and composure. The winter session. The overburdened clerks. The timing was too precise to be chance. She had felt something amiss, something she had relayed to Aurelian, Bastila, and Dominque and now she saw it clearly. This was not only aimed at Aurelian. It was a deliberate narrowing of the Republic's future.

"What would you have us do?" Corde asked from her right, as the other Handmaidens stood attentively at her side.

Sibylla drew a slow breath, drawing her shoulders back. Then she released it, settling herself.

"Begin preparations to transfer the crown once more to King Veruna the Second," she said evenly. "The transition will be swift and free of obstruction. Naboo will be ruled by its elected King. I will serve as her Voice."

It was then that her hazel eyes returned to the broadcast with a resolved, determined composure on what would happen next.

"After that," she said softly, "we will act accordingly."

 

[Redak Boyd]

[Undisclosed Imperial Observation Facility – Sector Redacted]
Primary Feed Room | Level IV

The chamber was already dim when Commissioner Redak Boyd arrived. No alarms. No commotion. Just the soft buzz of filtered oxygen and the flicker of a dozen live feeds across the forward wall.

The largest screen was locked on Naboo, the Senate chamber mid-session, now slowly thinning. An aide stepped aside to let Boyd through. Another officer rose and cleared his throat softly, without turning.

"Sir. You'll want to see this."

He gestured to the central feed. It was their job, their primary focus, to watch the High Republic goings-on and prepare reports for Imperial Intelligence.
A man stood calmly where few ever did. Ravion Corvalis, Senator of Malastare. The view zoomed slightly as he spoke.
No theatrics. No debate.

Just language wrapped in law. And then it was done. The crisply spoken officer continued his rundown.

"He’s invoked the Continuity Act. Magistrate powers. Legal. Uncontested. Naboo's Senator had been reassigned off-world — Veruna. That left no seated capital authority." The officer gestured as he spoke as if detailing a shopping list rather than the political machinations of a superpower.
Boyd's jaw shifted slightly. He said nothing yet.

"Corvalis used the gap. Assumed executive procedural control. Stripped the monarchy from Senate authority. Crown remains, purely ceremonial. Called for new Chancellor elections. Ten-day cycle. He'll oversee them."

The voices overlapped, throwing in everything pertinent for the Commissioner to use in his assessment.
A short pause followed. Then:
"No one moved to stop him. Session was light. By design, we think."

Boyd stepped closer to the screen. Watched the empty Naboo seat. The stillness in the chamber. He let the silence draw out.
"Veruna?"
"In transit when it happened. Off to Abednedo." was the response.

A second officer chimed in quietly from behind a console.

"No doubt the Federation's already moving. Everyone smells the vacancy."

Boyd's gaze lingered another second on Corvalis' image.
He spoke finally.
"Keep a channel open. Watch who speaks to who."

He turned away, coat falling into step behind him as he moved toward the exit.
"And find out what Corvalis wants... before he tells the entire galaxy. We might be able to use this."
The chamber door hissed closed.

Boyd walked with a calm assurance, stern and assured as he entered his personal chambers.
The door sealed behind him with a hydraulic hiss, cutting off the faint hum of the observation deck. Inside, the room was cold, quiet, and perfectly functional. A study in calculated austerity.
The walls were slate-grey durasteel, broken only by narrow recessed alcoves housing modular data consoles and encrypted relay nodes. No decoration. No windows.
The air smelled faintly of copper and ozone, the scent of machines always working. A single light panel cast a pale glow across the matte-black desk at the room's center.
A central holoplate was embedded in the desk's surface, already active, its interface waiting. Beside it, a series of hard-coded comm switches blinked in soft amber, tied directly to deep-spine Imperial comms. No atmospheric bounce. No traceable traffic. Above the desk, a slanted wall panel displayed stacked feed summaries from Senate chambers, trade lanes, and listening posts. Names, faces, votes, troop movements. All constantly updating. All silent.

To the right, a long vertical terminal stretched from floor to ceiling, its screen segmented into quadrant analytics. Political pressure maps, Economic trend lines. Military forecasts. All with High Republic flags pulsing faintly in the upper corners.
Everything in the room was built for clarity and speed. No wasted space. No comfort. Only access.

Boyd stepped forward and placed his hand against the central scanner. A quiet chirp confirmed the imprint.

"Commissioner Boyd, clearance Theta Black. Connect to Intelligence Command. Minister L'lerim, direct channel."

The holoplate shimmered. The line opened.
He waited, hands folded behind his back, as the Minister was summoned. His eyes stayed on the feed overhead. Still watching Corvalis. Still calculating.
The room did not need warmth. It was designed for war.

 

[Eharl Sarn]

​

Senate Hall
Theed City | Naboo
Items: x
Verity Stuyveris

​

Senator Eharl Sarn's eye stalks widened a fraction as the chamber's murmurs resolved into meaning, the news landing just as the aide ushered him inside. A low, thoughtful hum vibrated through his chest as his tall frame advanced as he was led forward to meet Verity.

"Greetings, Senator Stuyveris," both of his mouths rumbled through his translator, the Ithorian inclining his head first to Verity Stuyveris , then straightening, gaze drifting briefly toward the Magistrate's seat.

"A most curious turn of events," Eharl Sarn rumbled, the hum carrying concern rather than volume. "I can appreciate the call for permanence in leadership. Even so, I have not abandoned hope of locating and rescuing High Chancellor Kalantha."

She had been, after all, his former Queen under the Royal Naboo Republic, and he his ever faithful servant in the transition to her role as High Chancellor before her kidnapping.

He would remain her champion as long as he needed to be.

The sound in his throat deepened with a restrained but insistent rumble. He had pressed for resources. He had argued after the broadcast, after the evidence of her treatment. Kenari had yielded nothing. The attempt at a Prisoner exchange with Black Sun had failed. Still, he would not let the search fade into procedural dust.

Amber eyes returned to Verity in an attentive and earnest musing and nodded.

"I would be so curious as well to hear, Senator Stuyveris, what criteria will guide these selections. Our constituents will ask and they deserve clarity."

Another rumble in the back of his throat gave way as his eyestalks narrowed upon that of the new would-be Magistrate.

"A most curious and unorthodox placement indeed. What do you make of it, Senator? A low attendance. Winter session. And not a single vote required..." he asked.

"And now, which candidates would be selected by the new Magistrate..."

 

[Ravion Corvalis]

Ravion Corvalis allowed the sound to finish, the shifting pods, the muted murmurs, the quiet recalibration of attention that followed the invocation of authority. It was important that the chamber adjusted itself before he asked anything further of it. He was already receiving a stream of information from Kayrce who was sitting silently as ever behind him. Reactions, movements, declarations; it was all happening as fast as expected. The rats would run and hide and the vultures would start to circle.

When he finally spoke, he did not raise his voice.
"Senators," he said, evenly. Not warmly or sharply. Simply with enough authority to reclaim the floor. "This session will continue. It will now be recorded as the authorities initiation of intent for High Chancellor. Questions and answers as needed."

Ravion Corvalis did not bother waiting for the murmurs to die this time. They were already irrelevant. Yet still they persisted.
"This session will continue," he said, flatly. Not a request. Not an invitation.

"The authority exercised moments ago is neither symbolic nor provisional. It is active. It is binding. And it exists because this chamber cannot function on custom when circumstance demands statute."

He straightened, the last trace of easy civility leaving his posture entirely. His eyes flicked with slow purpose to the empty Naboo bench. No commentary. None was needed.

"Let me be explicit."

The change was almost jarring. His tone was sharper now, gone was the charismatic art dealer, replaced instead by this, the Magistrate of the Republic.

"This Magistration does not replace the Chancellor's office. It prevents the Senate from stalling itself while pretending restraint is virtue. The Republic does not benefit from suspended momentum. It benefits from continuity."

He rested both hands on the desk in front of him, palms flat.

"There will be no recess called on the basis of uncertainty. There will be no speculative motions regarding succession introduced in bad faith. And there will be no attempt to weaponise absence as leverage."

The words landed with the weight of a bludgeon to the back of the head.

"If any delegate believes this authority has been invoked improperly," Corvalis continued, "they may challenge it through the appropriate procedural channels. Not through implication. Not through obstruction. And not through theatrics."

Silence answered his words, thick in the air as the room tried to make sense of what was happening.

"Until such a challenge is raised and upheld," he said, "this chamber will proceed under Magisterial oversight, with the full force of precedent and charter."

He lifted his gaze fully now, he didn't scan the room. He now looked upon his chamber. They all had to know it, that for the foreseeable future, he was the Senate.

"We will maintain the existing docket. We will conduct ourselves as legislators, not mourners of an empty chair. And we will remember that the Republic's legitimacy does not reside in a single seat, but in the continuity of this body."

He allowed a moment, already names were coming through. The ones who were quick on the uptake for their chance at power, influence and position. His mouth curled slightly. So, so quick.

"The Magistration offers clarity on the selection of candidates for the High Chancellor's office and will publish them by the end of the session. However it is clear that we need a leader not of tradition but one who has the experience and resolve to lead our Republic forward. One who alongside the Magistration will allow the Republic to prosper and defend it's own."

It was an intentional use of words. Kalantha's abduction was still fresh on everyone's minds, the Republic's inability to rescue her more so. Many things had erupted from that calamity, Ravion had made sure he had filled the gaps the best he could. A true hero of the Republic.

"I assure you that we will not cease our efforts in finding the current High Chancellor. In fact we will double them. Criminals and terrorists have no place within this Republic nor existing along our borders. It is time we look outward, and begin to think about our options of removing this cancerous mass of lawlessness that continues to exist unopposed."

He allowed Kayrce a brief part of his time as she relayed information to his display screen. Information they had suspected, or had intelligence on, but no concrete confirmation until now.

"In fact, using my executive powers as Magistrate I put in place the creation of a Grand Army of the Republic. No longer shall we be limited to the defense ideals of Naboo."

He pressed a button on his pod, it was time to distract. A large image of the recent death star that had appeared within the now collapsed Alliance projected into the center of the chamber, Ravion's pod passing through it silently.

"This alone should give us cause. We can no longer be a target. We must be the threat. As such I call upon our member worlds who have the means to pledge to our armament of this Grand Army. Coordination is a must, agreement is honoured, allegiance to this chamber is rewarded."

A pod moved forward.

It was not fast moving, but it was deliberate; the kind of movement made by someone who wanted it noticed.

"Point of order," came the voice, already leaning forward. "While the Magistrate's interpretation of continuity is… inventive, this chamber has not…"

Corvalis did not look at the speaker.
"Denied," he said the word landing before the sentence could finish.

That alone stilled the room.

Only then did Corvalis turn his head, not his body and regard the senator who had risen halfway from their seat.

"You are not raising a point of order," he continued, voice level, almost bored. "You are attempting to introduce a challenge to Magisterial authority without filing notice, without citation, and outside the recognised interruption window."

He glanced down at his datapad that was still scrolling information.

"Page eighty-three. Subsection four. You'll find it under 'Improper Interjections During Active Continuity.'"

The senator hesitated and sat back down an inch.

Corvalis did not let the moment breathe.

"If you wish to contest this Magistration," he said, "you will submit a formal challenge through the Clerk's office, with supporting statute, and wait your turn. You will not audition objections in the aisle."

A quiet murmur rippled through the chamber yet again, it flared something in Ravion yet he would not allow it to show, instead he would have to recalculate.

He continued, eyes still on the same delegate.

"Now," Corvalis said, "if your concern is that this authority somehow disadvantages your delegation."
He did not wait for confirmation.
"Then allow me to reassure you."

He looked up fully now.

"The docket proceeding today does not touch trade quotas, shipping lanes, or representation weight. Your interests are unaffected. Which means this intervention is not protective."

His eyes stared at the Senator with a shred of violence that was so out of character for the bubbly, talkative representative of Malastare that it quietened all debate.

"It is opportunistic."

That word did damage.

"If you have something relevant to add when the chair recognises debate," Corvalis finished, "you may do so then. Until that moment…"

He turned away.

"…you will remain seated and you will remain quiet."

Silence. Absolute silence as no rebuttal came.

Corvalis exhaled once, it was slow and controlled, a man regaining his composure; then addressed the chamber again, as if nothing had happened.

"The record will reflect an attempted interruption, denied under statute," he said calmly. "The proclamation of the formation of the Grand Army of the Republic continues as does the putting forward of candidacy for High Chancellor."

He gestured to the room without looking at the room again.

"The Magistrate chair recognises the opening of the floor."

Aurelian Veruna Sibylla Abrantes Eharl Sarn Verity Stuyveris Dominique Vexx Monaray Dod

 

[Monaray Dod]

Ravion Corvalis Aurelian Veruna Sibylla Abrantes Eharl Sarn Verity Stuyveris Dominique Vexx

The flickering hologram of Lodd Grimmin soon faded entirely from view, as Dod now stood alone in the center of his private chamber. The Trade Monarch's command to seek the Chancellorship echoed in the room but the Neimoidian's mind was already recalibrating to ensure the Federation's interest were protected in this new era of uncertainty.

His boney hand soon touched the holographic display as the feed from the Republic Assembly came through, Ravion Corvalis had not just taken the title of Magistrate but had fundamentally rewritten the rules of engagement. The " Grand Army of the Republic. ", the summary denial of points of order, from no less than Senator Verity Stuyveris .

It was less a functional democracy and steadily becoming a dictatorship with a autocrat in a freshly pressed velvet suit. To run for Chancellor now, as a Neimoidian with Trade Federation and Banking Clan ties was to put a target on his back for a Magistrate who was currently hunting down "opportunists.". Dod knew he didn't have the military backing to challenge a man who had just authorized a Grand Army.

He needed a shield. He needed a partner whose teeth were as sharp as Corvalis's, but whose interests were anchored in the same corporate reality as his own. He sat at his desk and opened a high-level, encrypted channel to the Denon delegation lead by Director Dominique Vexx .

Spoiler: SECRET MESSAGE DON'T LOOK

PRIVATE ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION:

Director Vexx,

I watched the Magistrate's performance today with the same... admiration for efficiency that I suspect you did. However, efficiency without oversight is merely a well-lubricated slide into autocracy. The invocation of a 'Grand Army' and the suspension of traditional parliamentary challenge suggests that the 'ten-day cycle' for a new Chancellor is not an election, but a coronation.

The Trade Federation and Denon have often found our interests aligned in the preservation of stable markets and the limitation of state-sponsored interference. A Grand Army requires a massive tax base, one I am certain neither of our sectors wishes to provide without significant control over where those credits flow.

I have received word that you have submitted your candidacy for Chancellor. It is a bold move, and frankly, the only one that offers the Republic a return to technocratic reality over Corvalis's martial theater.

I am prepared to withdraw my own impending announcement for the Chancellorship and instead throw the full weight of the Trade Federation Bloc and my own experience within the former Galactic Alliance behind your ticket. I propose a joint candidacy: Vexx for Chancellor and Dod for a newly created Vice-Chancellor Position, which would push the Magistrate down the chain of command to an appropriate third.

My presence provides the legislative continuity, while your leadership ensures that the Republic's executive power remains in the hands of those who actually build and sustain the galaxy. Together, we move the Magistrate back into a purely procedural role. We provide the 'resolve' Corvalis spoke of, but with a commercial soul he lacks.

I find myself on Toshara, but I can be on Denon within the standard transit window. I believe a private consultation is... mandatory.

With respect,

Senator Monaray Dod

He leaned back, the blue light of the terminal casting long, thin shadows across his face. He found Director Vexx's company grating with her elitism and Denon focused ambition, but he was a Neimoidian. He would dine with a krayt dragon if it meant the dragon ate his enemies first.

He looked at the cold guala fish on his plate. He had no appetite for dinner, but he had a sudden, ravenous hunger for political stability. He waited for the chime of a reply, knowing that if Vexx was as shrewd as her reputation suggested, she would realize that a Queen needs a Vizier who knows where the bodies and the credits are buried.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique watched as Ravion sought to cow the chamber in the wake of his declarations. It seemed the man desired a straightforward, organized effort rather than one filled with countless proposals and objections. In short, to keep the Republic functioning rather than get mired in minutiae. All well and good if his intentions were honest. Humorous, if they were not. How could someone not at least mentally raise a brow at Ravion talking down 'weaponize absence as leverage' given recent events? Well, perhaps not everyone had yet made the connections.

She sat back and listened as Ravion waxed on about securing the Republic. Even when he unilaterally declared creating a Grand Army of the Republic, the Denonite remain patiently and calmly seated. It was a curious move to be sure. Having only just assumed power he made no effort to solicit feedback or buy-in by those present. Of course, she couldn't help but notice it was an announcement that followed on so much hard work that came before as well; all but ceremonial in nature to claim the accolades of work done by others. One politically minded couldn't help themselves.

And while it was of mild annoyance having been a backer of those efforts, Dominique would not openly oppose his 'command' nor point out how it was even possible with a simple statement alone. It was a continuation of what had been intended. Though who would end up in charge of it remain in doubt, and to what true purpose. Therein lay the danger... or the futility.

The corner of her lips turned upward at Ravion trotting out the Death Star as a cause. The Grand Army had nothing to do with that, but instilling fear required a visible deterrent and so very visible soldiers made Senators feel safe. In coordination with Republic Intelligence, and Rhys Gorne in particular, certain... 'coordinations' were already in motion. Some simple paperwork. Others kinetic. And a few were deterrent, but not ready for public consumption.

A slow shake of her head followed the spat regarding procedure and power. Interests were unaffected? Ravion had a way with words and authority that could put people in their place, but he didn't honestly believe everything he said, surely. A Magistrate suddenly arising from the void to assert power having no impact on trade or representative weight? After he just declared the creation of a Grand Army? But, again, there was no need for Denon to step forward and raise hell over the way in which he applied the legal authority given to him. If anything, a Denonite only appreciated the manner in which he conducted these affairs. And he was a native of Naboo? One might have thought a lineage traced back to Denon.

As Ravion, at last, opened the floor, Dominique found an encrypted message sent to her directly from Monaray Dod . She opened it and quickly scanned its contents in the way only someone used to reading lengthy legal documents could. Curious. They did share many values, but they were equally opposed at times. Findos and now Dod pursued matters that never quite benefitted Denon, which at times led to them being on opposite sides of an issue rather than united as most civilians believed Corpos were in all things in 'squeeze' every credit out of them possible.

Spoiler: To: Senator Dod

PRIVATE ENCRYPTED TRANSMISSION:

Senator Dod,

Your proposal intrigues me, and we should meet outside of chambers. For now, let us declare separately to learn the shape of the Magistrate's plans.

Sincerely,

Director Dominique Vexx

There was always time to reorganize and ally with another candidate before a vote. If they came together now, Dominique suspected Ravion would put up a fight. Not literally, of course, and perhaps not even openly in this very session. Worse, he'd have the advantage of knowing their intentions while his remain nebulous. She knew well all his public relation efforts to make the Republic see him as a champion for their sake, but words were cheap. It would be worthwhile to meet with Ravion privately to see what truly drove him before his guard was any higher than it already was.

Dominique rose from her feet and glided over to the controls to signal Denon's interest to address the chamber, and for her pod to move forward when so acknowledged. It hardly hurt to show a little respect to the Magistrate's position at the start.

"Magistrate," Dominique gave a second's pause and smile for Ravion Corvalis 's benefit, "Senators," no need to dismiss everyone else present even if Ravion thought to hold all the authority, "it is undeniable that this High Republic faces unprecendented times." Another brief pause to allow the people to think what they will in that scant opportunity. "It has not been so long since the last interstellar governing body in this region has been beset by criminals and terrorists." To which Dominique referred to the Confederacy of Independent Systems and their fight with the Agents of Chaos. "Nor should it be tolerated to allow them to fester, or the external threat against our sovereignty and way of life to grow. The Third Death Star was a threat that will forever define this generation, and we must prepare ourselves against those that follow -- be they small cells, or superweapon."

"As Senator of Denon I have supported and championed this High Republic's efforts to bolster not only its security, but its prosperity. Our enemies do not need to use only blasters and bombs, but can attack our very institutions and economy; and our defensive strategy has reflected as much. Now is the time to continue moving toward a future of security while simultaneously ensuring the bedrock principles of this Republic remain as solid and unassailable as they have been since its founding." Scholars could argue about that until they were blue in the face, but civilians like feeling reassured everything was fine and would remain that way.

"To that end, Magistrate," Dominique paused one last time to help draw the attention of those whose minds may have wandered, "I humbly submit my personal candidacy as High Chancellor. To continue the work I -- and my colleagues -- have pursued in earnest for all worlds, and all peoples, of this High Republic. I can see nothing but strong and productive relations between Offices in our shared vision for the future."

Whether Ravion would feel the same would depend on how threatened he felt with a Director of Denon becoming Chancellor. Someone with their own fleet. Their own army. Dominique hadn't bluffed or been full of bluster when she declared Denon would pursue its own defenses whether the Senate chose to adopt Aurelian's naval overhaul. It was, after all, the very fleet patrolling the North and Eastern borders of the Republic at that very moment.

An invitation to meet popped up on the Office of the Magistrate's docket. Dominique's assistants didn't need her personally overseeing everything they did to carry out her wishes even while she was elsewhere. That's why she had so many of them.

Ravion Corvalis | Aurelian Veruna | Sibylla Abrantes | Eharl Sarn | Verity Stuyveris | Monaray Dod​

 

[Verity Stuyveris]

​

Verity had stood down from the podium and resumed her seat by the time Senator Sarn greeted her. She smiled fondly and immediately stood. "Senator Sarn, good morning." She crossed to the side and began to prepare his tea the way she had observed him the last time, and soon she was presenting the Ithorian Senator of Enarc with a steaming china mug. "The return of the High Chancellor is likely the optimal outcome for all of this," Verity agreed with him as she picked up her own cup and saucer and silently toasted him with it. After a sip of the tea, Verity took her seat and crossed her ankles underneath it. "To say nothing of the rightness of not leaving one of our own to the tender mercies of her captor."

For a few moments as she watched the interplay -- the eagerness of the Senator of Denon to make her opening gambit did not go unnoticed -- Verity was silent, as if lost in thought. Her glacial grey-blue eyes darted this way and that, watching the Magistrate, the Chair, her colleagues, occasionally flickering to Sarn as well.

"What do I make of it?" she echoed his question at long last. She exhaled briefly through her nose, steam billowing away from the surface of the cup, in what might have been a laugh. "I think we have witnessed the opening salvos of something bigger, though what I could not rightly say. I think the setting for this occasion was chosen with care for the factors you mentioned. And I am beginning to think," here, Verity's voice lowered ands he leaned closer to Sarn. Who knew who was listening? "That the survival of this democracy will now depend upon the election of someone with the backbone to stand up not just to the Empire marauding through the Core and the Sith on all sides, but to the Magistrate and the levers he exercises without so much as a committee motion. It is... troubling. The inevitability. The unaccountability. We have seen where this road can lead, time and time again."

Her eyes cut to Sarn's, glancing between his wide-spaced eyes the way one did when one was new to interactions with Ithorians. She meant well, bless her. "You know these people -- the personalities at play -- better than I," Verity observed to Sarn, then took another sip of her tea before continuing. "Am I being paranoid? Alarmist?"

Eharl Sarn | Ravion Corvalis | Monaray Dod | Dominique Vexx​

 

[Eharl Sarn]

​

Senate Hall
Theed City | Naboo
Items: x
Eharl Sarn accepted the teacup with a soft incline of his broad head, a low hum settling in his chest as he listened. His eye stalks angled thoughtfully toward the chamber before returning to Verity Stuyveris .

"You are not being alarmist, Senator Stuyveris," Eharl Sarn said calmly. "Concern is warranted when procedure advances faster than confidence."

The Ithorian took a sip of his tea, letting it linger before swallowing to give out another low, contemplative hum.

"My unease with Ravion Corvalis lies not in legality, but in context. He has held his seat for only a few months, following his personal accusation regarding his predecessor of treason, Black Sun collusion, and involvement in the attack that led to the High Chancellor Kalantha's abduction and the previous Magistrate's death. Now, he is to proceed in taking control and vetting candidates for the High Chancellor Seat himself. All combined, these provoke my desire for further scrutiny."

A quieter hum followed. "By contrast, Dominique Vexx has shown herself attentive to Denon's interests while acting in good faith for the Republic. In my experience, and that of others, her intentions have been consistent."

Those amber eyestalks solemnly gaze, flicked briefly back to the Magistrate's chair.

"While not incorrect, that Corvalis is referencing any objection to the Magistrate be formally challenged through the clerk's office is what troubles me. At this point, with winter recess, procedure may take longer, and we have only 10 days for the new election of a High Chancellor whose candidates were reviewed and admitted by Senator Corvalis alone..."

Sarn looked back at Verity.

"Perhaps it is best we speak with other like-minded senators. Not to obstruct, but to examine more thoroughly. An undertaking of such unorthodox methods merits shared vigilance."