An Unexpected Visit | PM to Join

[Progflaw99]

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The capitol of Naboo was a strange sight. In many ways, it was even more archaic in design than that of Dosuun, or at least it seemed so. Flowing arches, ornate architecture, it seemed the city was full of life - markedly different from the order and efficiency of the streets of Avalonia. Even the air here was different - some might say better but the man standing at the railing wasn't so sure. By all accounts, this place was orderly - the market district perhaps not quite as much so but here, everything was alive. He could feel it, taste it even in the air. Naboo was a planet of life, symbiosis of many species a staple of their existence, the Gungans for example. But that was not the purpose of his visit, however welcoming the native culture of the place might have seemed. Castor Ren wasn't on vacation.

The man known as Castor had fallen back on his given name, a name no one would know. Malachai Zevran. Standing beside the central channel which cut through the center of Theed, the view of the palace was clear, just beyond the water terminating at an enormous fall. The morning had passed without incident, his time spent primarily at the University library. The knowledge contained within the Bastion of Ren on Virgilia was vast, but far from complete. It had been enjoyable almost - an escape from the constant conflict they found themselves forced into. Things had finally begun to settle, allowing the Ren to take a step back from the fighting and focus on things that would in the long run prove to be beneficial. This was one such endeavor. It had not been commanded by their leader, it had little to do with the diplomats even now discussing terms of a cease-fire with the Galactic Alliance - this was of his own volition.

Unlike many of his other endeavors, subtlety was required towards his ends. It was with this in mind he'd gone through channels that would normally be inaccessible to someone of his order - luckily for him there were only three individuals that could possibly recognize him and even then, given his precautions, would be unlikely. He wore the clothing of a traveler, a wound swatch of fabric worn atop his head, flowing robe atop a well fitting tunic and trousers, a pair of leather boots adorning his feet. Around his neck, a simple amulet designed to mask his force signature - a necessity in a place such as this. Subterfuge had been well protected against on both sides of the First Order and Alliance conflict - he expected no less here. His appearance had changed drastically and at first glance, even had someone known him they may not have suspected. Even so - he was cautious about his movements. Around the city he had assumed an accent, one well practiced and sure to remove all suspicion of First Order citizenship, at least from the angle of speech.

Briefly checking the time, he noted that should he linger much longer, he would be late for his meeting. Through a complex network of connections, Malachai had managed to secure a meeting with the newly coronated Queen of Naboo. *Now that's something... the girl becomes a queen.* A smirk tugged at the corner of his lips and he set off. There would no doubt be a fair amount of security through which he would need to pass en route to his appointment - he did not wish to keep the Queen waiting, lest they revoke his appointment. Absentmindedly he clutched the small ornate box under his arm, engravings and markings appearing almost ancient etched across its surface. Wooden, gilded with silver and even gold. It was a gift - a relic of a bygone era - or so the story went. When presented to her majesty however, she would clearly recognize its contents. Narrowing his eyes and setting his course, he began the lengthy walk through the streets towards the Royal Palace.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

A time had passed since the rather unfortunate events of Mustafar and Hoth. The scars of those memories lingered still, and the lengthy locks of blonde hair having been reduced to a raggedy mess were now grown out and styled in an even neck length. Despite her election as Queen, a lot of her spare time had been spent mulling over what had happened, trying to understand. Less focus was spent on the very real fact that she nearly died at the hands of Castor Ren, and more on how things became what they were. Everything from the broadest of subjects, the First Order and Galactic Alliance, right down to the very specifics of their individual exchanges. Exchanges between herself and Castor, as well as Sieger, and the red haired woman who hadn't spoken so much as a word to Jamie.

Naboo, being on the farthest reach of Alliance space, had likely little to fear of the First Order, lest they make a power play through the heart of Alliance space, though with rumors circulating that the two superpowers were searching for a cease fire, the young woman was hopeful that perhaps her words had resonated with Sieger, and the Alliance, or at least someone thought to speak reason.

Whatever the cause was, though, the Jedi Queen hoped that it would result in a lasting peace, even if it was a naive hope.

Things had been quiet within the capital, a reprieve much needed for the people as well as Jamie. Theed was as active as ever, the late spring blossoming into an early summer with clearer skies, warmer and longer days, and vibrant colors at every corner made Naboo a popular offbeat tourist attraction. Being queen however was more than a full time job, one that demanded the presence and attention of one Jamie Pyne on a near constant basis. Meetings, hearings, deliberation, events, and so much more consumed the majority of her time. Though as stressful and busy as it were, the young blonde would not have it any other way. This had been her childhood goal, not becoming queen, but being the person others could turn to for help when they needed it.

"That will be all for today, councilors. You are dismissed."​

​

The assembly gathered within the council chambers departed after a brief adieu, leaving the woman to peer down at her datapad of things to do with a quiet sigh. One final meeting was left, thereby freeing up the remainder of her afternoon. Perhaps she would visit Mariya, her half sister, later, time permitting. Carefully the woman tucked the datapad into her handbag and made her way from the council chambers towards the main hall, escorted by her entourage of handmaidens.

[member="Castor Ren"]

 

[Progflaw99]

The steps were something reminiscent of the palace in Avalonia, though older - much older. While maintenance no doubt was commonly performed on them, the wear of footsteps could be seen in the ornate steps leading to the palace. Small indents worn into the stone - indicative of a passage of time, footsteps of diplomats, soldiers, citizens. How much history was in this place? Naboo had long been touted as the origin of one of the galaxy's most powerful Force User - the Emperor of the ancient Galactic Empire. What secrets did this place hold?

Castors thoughts were interrupted, a small child running across his path almost upended the man. Catching himself mid-step, two other children passed by, their giggles and laughter filling the air. Happiness. These children seemed happy, and in a place so full of life, how could they not be? The First Order had been at war with the Galactic Alliance, still were - though conflicts seemed to be ramping down across the tumultuous border worlds. Naboo, specifically Theed appeared untouched. No surprise, as it resided on the opposite side of Alliance held space. It brought things into perspective, having served firsthand on many of the front world conflicts. The surfaces of those planets were marred, space surrounding littered with pieces of scrap. War was messy. It was exactly why he was here, or perhaps the opposite could be said - to avoid messes.

Though an agent of the Supreme Leader, his purpose today was his own. The man's footsteps carried him upward, ascending the staircase one step at a time. His eyes never stopped moving. The man several yards behind, the woman kneeling by a large planting potter, the security officer at the top of the stairs - none escaped his attention. He was there in peace, however his mind had been trained, molded into that of a hunter. An enemy deep within Alliance space, an agent of Sieger no less. He couldn't risk being careless. As he neared the top of the steps, he clutched the wooden box just a hair tighter. It was something he'd had to think on, the contents inside had been a trophy of sorts to the man - but it did not belong to him. Not truthfully.

Reaching his free hand up, he stroked his beard. Taking a relaxed stance just inside the main rotunda, he checked his datapad one more time. Here he was - and it was not a moment too late. Across the main hall, his eyes were drawn to a small group emerging from another part of the palace - at their head the woman he'd met first on Mustafar - Jamie Pyne. A Queen? He thought bemusedly, Had he known of that detail perhaps Sieger himself would have seen to it that she should not escape as she had on Hoth. It was strange - this time when they met, he would be woefully unarmed - though that was the point, wasn't it? It would be unexpected no doubt, the woman understandably cautious, and there was always the off possibility she simply called security once she recognized him. With luck, he had predicted her response accurately, or at least to a point. Then again, he'd not been terribly merciful - only one way to find out. With several wide steps, he brought himself behind the group - following in their wake as they presumably made their way to the appointed place - his meeting had been scheduled for less than three minutes from now.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The councilors would soon break away from the small group, each going their separate way to tend to other business, personal or otherwise. This left Jamie with three handmaidens in tow, garbed in their typical robes, faces obscured beneath hooded veil. They walked in silence behind the Queen, though with pride and purpose, unlike servants typically found elsewhere in the galaxy. Where others were seen as subservient or beneath those they served, this group of women were every bit an extension of the queen. Their words and council were reserved for the woman they followed, and thus had garnered the reputation as being mute among the rest of the palace staff. On the rarest of occasions when one would speak in public, it was always a mere whisper in the dialect of the ancient Naboo language.

The Jedi wandered through the great hall, offering those she passed a warm smile and a small nod. A "Good afternoon" followed several of the nods, while a polite waive proceeded others. By her side lazily swayed her lightsaber, Rominaria. The new blade of which she'd constructed from Zaela wood, Sonsteel, and both Ankarres and Bondar crystals. Those attuned to the Force would sense the aura of tranquility surrounding the young blonde, as well as the mild beacon of light side energy exuding from both the weapon and herself. The burgundy hilt made for a stark contrast against the ivory dress the blonde wore. Her face, paler than her own complexion due to the makeup, sported the twin cheek-spots of balance and symmetry as well as the scar of remembrance, a bold red parting of lipstick along her lower lip.

A strange tradition to some, but one that held great importance for her people.

Turning down one corridor off to the right, the group approached a door secured by a single RSF guard that promptly saluted the Queen and extended his free hand outwards, scanning his security card over the panel to release the lock. "Thank you, Yolan" Jamie had made a point to learn the names of every staff member and guard within the palace. It was only right, in her eyes, that she learn at least the names of those who both resided within the palace as well as were responsible for protecting both it and she, as well as the people. Whenever time would permit, the girl had made it a point to try and learn a bit more of each person. Yolan was a twelve year veteran of the RSF, and had been her personal escort on several off world visits. The man was in his early forties, had three children and a wife that would frequently visit the palace for lunch dates. He was a good man by all accounts.

"Your guest has not yet arrived, my lady, though I will be sure to escort him in once he arrives and passes his security scan."

The woman nodded, allowing the door to close behind her handmaidens as they entered.

[member="Castor Ren"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Lingering only for a moment, Castor set his mind to task. It was time. Casting his reservations and second thoughts aside, he moved towards the door. A single guard stood watch outside the chamber the queen had just entered. And so his day began in earnest. He approached with a purpose, his footsteps carrying him towards the lone sentry. With a practiced accent he spoke.

"Salutations, I have arrived for counsel with the Queen - I am Malachai."​

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With a low sweep of his arms he bowed before the guard. Rising, he tilted his head inquisitively. Almost ironically, the man's cover was one of education and research - a historian. It had been a small matter on Castor's part but he would wear the disguise well. The box itself was made of such a material that scans of any sort were likely to be ineffective, but he knew there was no way he could have gotten through security with a weapon of his own. And so as he stood there, he extended his hands from his sides.

"The search shant take long I presume, as for the case..." He motioned with his free hand. "A gift for the queen, a relic she will be most pleased to see."​

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Castor would submit to a search, the amulet resting neatly against his chest, the box held up for inspection. He was unsure if the guard knew the saber inside or if he would recognize it - he was hoping not. Perhaps it would pass as a simple relic though only time would tell. Should the guard be satisfied, Malachai intended to enter the room.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The RSF officer observed the man standing before him. The accent caught his ear, and if the man's clothing did not give way that he was not a native, the voice did well enough on its' own. Yolan carefully removed the small scanner in the shape of a paddle from the leather hide pouch on his hip, opposite the holstered standard issue blaster that all RSF carried. The man's thumb slid past the activator, and a small beep preceded the low hum that now called out.

"This will just take a moment, sir."

The officer raised the device above head, and slowly swept down and up several times from both front and back, as well as side to side angles. A few squelch blips and pops came from the device, but otherwise remained quiet, save for the low hum that continued until the device was powered down and set back into the man's holster by his side. The guard then carefully lifted the lid to the box, revealing the contents within. An eye raised, and his gaze passed from the lightsaber in the box to the man standing before him.

"This is a lightsaber." He stated simply, though it didn't appear that the man had any idea of its' origin, meaning, or symbolism. Likely the only reason the man knew it to be a lightsaber was due to Jamie having always carried hers publicly. "Security dictates that if you wish to present this to the queen I will need to be its' escort into the room."

The officer would allow Malachai to pass should the man consent to protocol, taking from him the box to act as the envoy of the package during its' presentation.

[member="Castor Ren"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Internally he grimaced, though he though it like to be the case and so had prepared for that contingency. He would concede, and with a nod he blinked slowly, accepting the security officer's words. As the scan commenced he stood still, allowing the security officer to perform his job, allowing the scan to complete. The officer would find no weapons on him aside from the saber in the box, for he in truth had no weapons on his person. That was the measure of a true Knight of Ren - to be able to use anything as a weapon, to improvise when necessary and not to fear the disadvantage but turn it to your strengths. Much had changed over the last few months, not only for Castor but for the Ren as a whole. This was just the beginning.

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"Of course - I would expect nothing less."​

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He would allow the officer to deliver the saber to the Queen, the question then would be whether Jamie recognized him for who he was in that moment and how she would respond. He had contingencies for that should the situation turn sour, but he was committed to seeing this through peacefully first. As the box left his possession he smiled, bowing at the waist. Patiently he waited as the guard secured the box. Taking a footstep towards the door - he would continue the short distance. A few seconds later, Castor found himself opening the door into the chamber beyond.

It took him a moment to get his bearings upon opening the door but as he stepped in his eyes were drawn to the woman who now stood Queen. How strange, that she had been but a child in the Caves of Lothal, even so on the rocky surface of Mustafar - but here, on Naboo, she looked everything an adult. Her royal garb, meticulously fashioned, makeup carefully applied - her demeanor was one of power, less of uncertainty. Here at her home, the tables had been turned. As he entered the room, he took position before taking a knee and bowing his head towards the woman.

"Salutations your highness, I am Malachai - I have traveled far to gaze upon you and present to you a gift."​

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With his final word, he motioned towards the security officer and then to the Queen. Rising to his feet he clasped his hands before him and waited. The next few moments would tell him all he needed. No doubt Jamie would recognize the saber, but would she connect the dots? Even with his disguise he imagined she might recognize him - but would she oust him immediately? Those would be the actions of someone who was afraid, and here among her people, inside her palace, would she feel threatened enough to do so? He hoped for dialogue but as always he'd planned for the off chance he'd misread the woman during their encounters.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie had been seated at the far end of the table, opposite the door. Her handmaidens accompanied her just behind, standing two to the left and one to the right. Their faces were kept obscured by their hooded veils, and one might actually take them for statues if not for their fair complexions not dissimilar to Jamie's own. Atop the elongated conference table sat only the woman's personal datapad, with four chairs on either side that ran parallel with the table. Deep azure eyes lifted from the screen to the two men that entered. A warm smile stretched across the blonde's face, seeing Yolan escort her guest, along with a small ornate box in hand.

Standing the queen nodded to Malachai as he introduced himself. As he lifted his head and their eyes met, something in the back of her mind awoke. That feeling one got when nearly submitting to unconsciousness at night yet suddenly and inexplicably startled. The voice sounded vaguely familiar, yet the accent was one she was ignorant of. But it was not the voice that drove that feeling, but the man's eyes. Jamie had begun to trust her gut more as of late, and though she couldn't exactly pick out just how she knew this man, she was without doubt when it came to having seen this man somewhere in her past.

Taking in his appearance Jamie noted the amulet around the man's neck, plain as it were, the garb he wore and the facial hair. Every detail she took in, but nonetheless returned to his eyes. Perhaps he might pick up on the fact that she was studying his eyes, or perhaps not. Perhaps his reaction to her studying him would endear her with a few more clues. Though it would likely become unnecessary once she opened the box. Yolan set the gift down adjacent to the woman's datapad before stepping back, awaiting instruction. Jamie mouthed a silent Thank-You to the man, complete with slow nod and that same genuine smile she sported. The security officer took that as his cue to return to his post and promptly turned to Malachai. "Sir." He said as his parting word, before shuffling himself back into the hallway, the hiss of the door closing behind him marking his exit.

"It's a pleasure, Malachai. Please, have a seat."​

​

The blonde would wait for the man to select his preferred chair, curious to see where exactly he might position himself in relation to both the exit and she, before sitting once more herself. Once she had, her elbows would rest gently on the table behind the box in front of her, fingers steepled. It was rare that a man not of Naboo would travel any such distance to meet a young, unwed queen if not for one of two simple reasons -- An attempt to bed and marry her, or to influence her for personal or political gain. A gift in this context had strings that far outweighed any value contained within, this much she knew. Before the girl would even open the box to view its' contents, she wanted to determine just how she knew this man.

"Tell me Malachai, what brings you to Naboo? Surely traversing the galaxy to flatter a foreign queen with a gift is not your trade."​

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[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

With feigned excitement he smiled, half bowing once more at the waist before stepping towards the end of the table. Four chairs, four choices, each one subtly suggesting something about himself should he choose it. Behavior was a quirky thing, telling even. Castor knew well about the dangers and advantages of body language - the FOSB even had trained agents in reading body language alone to a point they could tell you a fair amount about a person just by sight. Without a pause in his step, he took the seat towards his right - closest to the woman. His posture was one of strength though specifically he avoided looming over her. Were he to come across as intimidating it would be mere moments before she recognized his familiar height or stance and for her to recognize him yet would be perilous. Instead, he quickly and carefully slid into the seat, leaning against the table and interlacing his fingers.

"Thank you, thank you."​

​

It was uncanny, to be this close to Jamie again. He felt naked without a weapon, without a sword - his presence in the Force was muted certainly, and yet a certain anxiety gripped him. The key was not to let it consume him, use it. He looked towards the box again, ornate as it was. As the Queen began speaking again, he turned in his chair, his eyes meeting hers again. Familiar, yes, though time had passed and she was by no means the same girl he'd encountered on Lothal. The rigors of war, of capture, of conflict bore their own weight - not incorrectly the eyes had oft been referred to as the windows of the soul. The question hung in the air for a moment before he responded, his posture adjusting as he straightened his back and lifted his arms from the table to rest in his lap. An amused smile crossed his features.

"Would you believe me if I said the green?" His hands motioned towards the exterior. "This planet is full of life, full of knowledge... Vitality.." He paused. "...but perhaps the nature of the gift would be - revealing?"​

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Malachai motioned once more towards the box - almost eagerly.

"My trade..." he paused - waiting for a moment. "...Is something delicate, not so easy to put words to. Something one as well traveled as yourself might understand... and respect. Please, do indulge yourself."​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The man spoke in circles, never actually answering a question, but instead deflecting towards something else. It was a mannerism she was not unfamiliar with, given the nobility and how they interacted with one another on this very planet. Typically this game of back and forth would continue throughout the course of a meeting, neither side having won anything meaningful, and both sides having wasted the others' time. The purpose however wasn't to win some grand debate, or change the course of history. No, these were intended to gauge the strength of the other noble houses and their ability to formulate fabrications to deceive everyone else of ones' true intentions. It was a tale as old as time, song as old as rhyme.

This man however was not of Naboo, though he clearly understood the game. Perhaps it was played wherever he called home? Jamie averted her eyes' focus from studying Malachai now that he was a bit closer for a moment, glancing at the box beneath steepled fingers. According to him, she might better understand if she opened the gift, rather than to try and explain. The blonde was thoroughly curious now as to what the man had brought with him, though as to the reason for bringing the item, she did not believe in the slightest that it was due solely to the lush scenery the world provided. Plenty of planets in the galaxy had similar characteristics, many of which were untouched by civilization. If he had desired to visit Naboo, he could have done so like the tens of thousands of others had, never needing to bring a foreign woman a gift in the process.

"Very well. You've piqued my curiosity."​

​

Setting her hands down with the greatest of care on either side of the frame the woman used her thumbs to press on the wooden lid, tilting the cover back on its' small brass hinges until finally it would travel no further. Within, a soft layer of velvet lined the walls of the box to protect the contents from being scratched or damaged. The gift itself it seemed was further obscured by a blanket of deep maroon satin, though the cylindrical shape of the object was obvious enough to see disguised beneath the fabric. For a second the girl paused, her index finger and thumb already pinching the satin to uncover the gift itself. Gently lifting away the covering what she revealed left her feeling instantaneously perplexed.

Jamie froze in place, dropping the satin sheet to the table beside the box, azure eyes staring down at what was unmistakably her lightsaber, Daylight.

Several seconds of silence passed, of which the Jedi spent staring down at the wooden hilt she had carved herself quite some time ago. It was her first lightsaber, one that she was infinitely proud of, one she carried everywhere. It had been stolen from her at Mustafar, turned on her even, to give her the shortened hairstyle that she now wore. Bright blues darted upwards at Malachai, piercing deep into his for an answer. That, was when it came together, how Jamie felt she recognized him. The slight resemblance in his voice, the way his eyes looked at her, the subtle similarities in his face, despite his disguised appearance.

Jamie felt the tiny hairs on her neck raise, a cold shiver shot down her spine. Her voice was barely a whisper "You."​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

His travel through Alliance space, his careful avoidance of setting off flags during, his meticulous planning - it had all come to a head in that moment. The woman before him had seemed almost reluctant at first, perhaps attempting to cut through the circular talk he'd heard so much about from the politicians of Naboo and other high culture worlds but in the end she conceded to her curiosity. A slow intake of breath relieved only a small amount of anxiety which had begun to build within the Ren's chest. This was the moment all facade would be ripped away, the moment his intention, or at very least his presence would be revealed. To this point his measures had done exactly what they were supposed to but what happened next was out of his hands and into the hands of fate.

He watched carefully as the woman opened the small box. As she paused there momentarily he sat up in his seat, eyes carefully examining her expression as she pulled the fabric away, revealing the saber below. How many times had he looked at the saber since that day on Mustafar? At first he'd nearly destroyed it but to do so seemed excessively wasteful. Instead he'd held onto the weapon, if one could call it that. The Bondar crystal contained within had removed any lethality the blade might have had but it served its purpose well, highlighting its owner's convictions. Lightsabers were highly personal, this one was no exception and as the hilt became visible he saw the recognition in her eyes, the crafted weapon undeniably a work of art as much as it was a tool. He'd studied it extensively, careful not to damage it in the process but Jamie would find it in the same condition as she'd left it, though along it's side there was a small scratch along the wood where it had clattered across the ground.

And there it was. The slow realization having crept into her mind. He could feel a shift in the Force - though largely unable to sense the so called light side of the Force, he could certainly feel the shift in his own self. It was something that simultaneously caused a chill to grip his spine. Castor's disguise, his ruse, all bared. As the quiet whisper escaped her lips he waited, letting the full realization of the situation come to bear - and then he spoke.

"Perhaps it would be best if your security gave us the room - as you've witnessed I am unarmed. Harm is not my intent."​

​

A quiet suggestion, though stated with a measure of forcefulness. Ultimately how she responded would remain up to her, though Castor hoped that his non-aggressive approach and current state of disarmament would work in his favor. He had not come for violence, nor had he come to gloat, but to move forward. Already there were rumors of a ceasefire between the Alliance and the First Order and with future uncertain it was the logical choice. He had no disillusion that they would ever be less than enemies, but perhaps even that could change in time - this was the first step towards a more common goal, that of peace. In fairness, Naboo had remained untangled, an unfortunate participant due only to Jamie's presence on Mustafar but now he had a chance to perhaps gain some measure of reconciliation for the time being.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Very quickly Jamie considered her options. The next few moments were incredibly important and would dictate how things proceeded from here. Should she call for the RSF and have him imprisoned? While it was true enough that he was physically unarmed, Jamie had confidence in her guard, a Force user such as Castor was hardly ever truly unarmed, lest they be bound by a suppression restraint of some kind. The Jedi knew this all too well, her past experiences with Vrak Nashar having taught her so. Alternatively she could arrest him herself, the saber at her waist or in front of her more than capable enough of seeing the job done, but more than that, the ring she wore on her left hand was more than simple aesthetics, but produced a similar brief paralyzing shock akin to her lightsaber, should she press the gemstone against his body with it active.

Jamie sat quietly for several seconds, cerulean irises stared across the table into the Ren's hard hazels. Her hands folded together in her lap beneath the table, though made no immediate move for either weapon at her disposal. She could feel the thumping in her heart about to push its way out of her chest. What she wanted to do was simply bind him in restraints and throw him in prison. As it were, an accusation by the queen would weigh heavily in court, when the time came for his trial. Difficult as it were, the Jedi resisted her own desire for the sake of hearing what the man had to say. With delicate care the queen raised her hands and slowly closed the box containing her lightsaber, allowing the clasps to secure the lid in place.

"My handmaidens will remain. You're not unarmed, you simply have no sword at your hip."​

​

Harm wasn't necessarily his intent back on Mustafar or Hoth either, but he had brought himself to cause it nonetheless. In her eyes, it was no different here. His words were that of a serpent, forked and with double meaning. The mere fact he came to her without a lightsaber or sword did little to elevate her trust in the Knight of Ren. Jamie knew well the only reason he hadn't brought a weapon was because had he been discovered with it, this meeting would never have happened. The woman wasn't about to let go of any advantage she had simply because he wished it so. The look on her face and tone in which she spoke suggested Jamie was anything but pleased to see Castor again.

"What business do you have trespassing now upon my home? I should see you imprisoned."​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

With bated breath the man sat exceptionally still, a feigned smile still plastered across his features. To give up the ruse would invite disaster, should a guard or security personnel notice though there was no doubt there had been a change in the atmosphere of the discussion. It almost felt as if a chill had entered the room. For several tense seconds he waited, eyes boring into the woman sitting beside him. This was perhaps the most dangerous part of his endeavor - how easy it would have been to simply alert her guards or even plunge the blade of either of the woman's sabers into his flesh. It was a risk, and as she spoke, a risk he'd calculated accurately at least for now. Her words uttered caused an amused tug at the corner of his lips.

"You should, but you won't." He stated matter-of-factly. "I wouldn't say this was business so much as pleasure - though even that isn't entirely accurate."​

​

A sneer formed briefly as he spoke. It was true, officially he had no business here, at least not at the behest of Sieger nor any of the other Masters of Ren but to call it pleasure left a sour taste in his mouth. He was simply doing what needed to be done, whether he truly felt that was the right thing to do or not. Even still he struggled with the thought of reclaiming the saber and instead melding it to his own purpose, the desire for dominance near consuming - but no, that was not how things were to play out should he wish to keep his head. It was a step in what would no doubt be called the right direction. The simple return of an enemy's weapon was by no means outright reconciliation, but it was an attempt, a gesture towards such. The war had been expensive, tribute paid in both monetary cost and blood. Now that it had begun to wane, this was what needed to be done.

"I am sure you recall the events which transpired on Lothal, Mustafar, and finally Hoth." His voice carried a significant lack of accent, reverting now to a quiet timbre of his natural tone. "I would bring your attention to the latter, as it is what seems to have spurred my sudden appearance here. Did not you yourself utter a desire to return the soldiers in this conflict to their homes? Beneath the propaganda war between the Alliance and the Order, I think you know as well as I that both sides of this conflict are hemorrhaging, and if nothing is done to stem the tide it will see us all lost to time."​

​

Castor leaned back in his seat, eyes rising to meet the woman's. Contrary to what most might believe, the First Order didn't want war, just as the Alliance claimed - they wanted order. Peace. Prosperity. So far, it had been a rocky road, a lot of bloodshed for a little gain, but who was he to measure success or failure on such a scale?

"You carry some weight I imagine, with the Alliance. You've stayed out of their war, but you have a voice. This..." He nodded towards the ornate box before looking to Jamie again. "...is a token gesture in hopes that you will agree to use that voice in efforts towards peace. If what you've said before about your thoughts on the matter remain true, I would beseech you to take your voice to the powers that reside over your Alliance."​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

If there was one thing missing from the atmosphere in the room, it was fear. At least on the queen's behalf. Where before in all three occurrences Jamie had been nervous, uneasy, or outright afraid, here on Naboo she was none of those things. Every advantage was hers. She knew the palace, the planet, the system. The woman had control of the RSF and Theed's defenses, and she herself had not one, but two lightsabers at her disposal, along with three of her handmaidens. There was little need for Jamie to fear the man sitting across from her, despite all he had done to her in the past. The blonde moved to gently secure a stray lock of hair behind her left ear before she considered the words of the Ren.

His words were cryptic, as they had been on Mustafar and Hoth. She did need to concede a bit of credit on his behalf however, for the courage and bravado spent by showing himself at her doorstep in such a manner. Jamie half believed there was an ulterior motive at work, given their past. And while unlikely as it seemed he would try to reclaim her as a prisoner, given the circumstances of the state of the war, she couldn't help but feel as though he was still the same disingenuous man that had attempted to kill her on Lothal, beneath the rocks, on Mustafar, by his sword, and Hoth, during her escape.

"Do not presume to know what I will and will not do, Castor." ​

​

Her words were cold in response, the arrogance of his stating her recollection of what had unfolded back on the three worlds of their prior meetings brought out a similar sneer of dissatisfaction to her expression. Her hair which had been a tattered mess of disarray when she returned home had been remedied by a corrected style, though the missing lengths of locks still reminded her of the damage done by his hand. Her subsequent imprisonment on the desolate snow capped world nearly saw her life cut short by the First Order's attempt to recover her as a bargaining asset. Now, it seemed, he was apt to utilize her own words and political position as a means to coerce the woman into reinforcing a form of armistice between the two massive superpowers. It was a proposition easier said than done at this stage in the conflict.

"Surely you understand how oddly coincidental I find it that only now you come to me seeking peace. Should I not have escaped you on Hoth, I sense our discussion would be far more one-sided."​

​

Not to mention sleeping in a prison cell within a stronghold built atop the frozen arctic of a desolate planet was not her idea of a pleasurable experience. It was plain to see however, the reasoning behind his desire to use her as a means to broker some kind of cease fire, truce, or peace between the First Order and Alliance. Naboo itself was an influential world by its own account, yet the currently elected monarch was more than just a native of Naboo -- She was a Jedi Knight and asset to the Alliance as well. A voice twice as loud as other systems in the region would hold some degree of weight during negotiations. Perhaps Castor, or Sieger, or the First Order entirely sought to use her to their advantage.

"You are correct in your assertion, however my voice is still but one of many. My position has never changed on the matter of war, yet it is not my position that must be convinced, but the whole of the alliance.So tell me, Castor Ren, how do you envision a brokered peace between the First Order and the Galactic Alliance? What does Sieger see that will stem the bloodshed between us? And where would you propose these negotiations take place? "​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

A silent smirk and a knowing nod of his head towards the woman indicated his acquiescence to her words. A neutral, cold tone - it was obvious to Castor that she was unnerved by his mere presence here, but she did well maintaining her control. Even sitting across from her he could sense the Force around him, around her, and the tranquility she sought from it. It was something he held no connection to through personal experience but he surmised it was likely not much different than his own personal meditations though augmented by the Force. It almost intrigued him - tranquility through silence as opposed to tranquility through pain and fear. A twitch of his eye brought him back from the brink of the rabbit hole. Her words moved now towards his intention once again. To her merit, she spoke the truth. Had Jamie remained in the custody of the First Order this conversation wouldn't be happening now, and it was even likely that the conflict would have continued - but there was a chance. A small glimmer of hope that reason could be seen by the First Order's neighbor the Alliance shone through her. Of course should this method fail, end states could always be obtained through other means, but Castor had hope yet.

"What could have been is inconsequential to the futures that lie before us.." He paused, frowned, and then continued. "..but you would be right, the conversation would be entirely less equitable."​

​

As she continued to speak, he leaned back in his chair. He was no longer listening to retort or simply respond, he was listening carefully - processing. That was the tricky thing with Confederations and Alliances, they rarely had the authority or the power to simply mandate something. Everything a vote, a thought to be considered - there was no such bickering nor consideration within the bounds of the First Order. Sieger said one thing, and that's the way it was. His eyes met hers once more, an intense gaze boring into the woman's blue eyes. This time there was no hate, no malice or intent to injure, merely a genuine interest. Young though she may have been, she carried herself more confidently and expressed herself more effectively than even some of the Moffs Castor had heard talk over the State Media Outlets. Far from bumbling idiots, though even so Jaime spoke with a purpose beyond her years. With a deep breath his eyes diverted towards the table, an almost pained sigh escaping his lips before he spoke.

"You know as well as I that total peace is an unlikely outcome, our very ideology is incompatible." Gently he stroked at the hair upon his chin. "But that shouldn't keep us from coming to a temporary accord should it? A ceasefire would benefit both our people, economically, socially - perhaps even deeper than that. I of course have no authority to speak for the Supreme Leader directly, though is it not clear that if we continue on our present course, there will be little more than ashes left? Already we've pushed the Alliance back, but at a cost - a cost that is in question. Blood of both our peoples has been shed, and perhaps your words with Sieger carried more weight than you know."​

​

He paused, a genuine moment of thought as he carefully worded his answer to her question.​

​

"Perhaps the former is true, that we will never see eye to eye on the methods with which we employ our order, but bloodshed for bloodshed's sake is futile. Negotiations on Dosuun or Sullust would be inappropriate by nature, one side naturally maintaining the advantage for each - however there is a place more monumental than that."​

​

Slowly, carefully he rose. Gently sliding the chair backwards, he stepped slowly towards the doorway towards the terrace attached to the room, small though it was. His eyes looked out over the city of Theed.​

​

"This place in differing circumstances may have been just such a place for talks of peace - however too far across Alliance space to allow any reasonable travel by First Order vessels. Perhaps something closer, more organic to the conflict at large." He looked to her once more. "Kaeshana. The place where this miserable conflict began. Yes, it is located within First Order space, though arguably one of the least militarized border worlds. Fitting that Kaeshana could be the very site of an accord - the conflict would have come full circle, beginning and ending at the place of its inception. And what of your thoughts, Jamie of House Pyne?"​

​

​

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie sat quietly, her eyes briefly flashing between Castor and the box before her in between the man's pauses. All the while he spoke she dissected his words, searching for the same cryptic meanings buried beneath kinder words that both he and Sieger had offered to her back on Mustafar and Hoth. The young queen watched as he stood, observing the city before them from just a few feet away. Still he spoke with the confidence of a man that did not face the possibility of incarceration on a foreign world. It spoke to the Ren's confidence, or perhaps ego. Perhaps fortunately for him Jamie was unwilling to imprison the man based on his prior offenses to her person on the fire and frost planets, both of which came before her electoral reign as Queen of Naboo. Her stance may even have been further compounded by the values instilled in her as a Jedi, however loosely affiliated with the order she was.

Gently the woman set her hands atop one another in her lap, strumming her fingers lightly over her the fabric of the ivory dress covering her knees.

"You come seeking not lasting peace, but armistice. Yet you do not convene on the authority of your dictator."​

​

Jamie was rather confident in her assertion that Sieger was the end all, be all of the First Order, that his word was law. It was a simple deduction, based on the circumstances of their interactions, the words he chose, the manner in which all other Knights of Ren answered to his authority and obeyed without question or hesitation. It was the mark of a dictator if ever there was one. It was in his tone of voice towards her. It was the sneer, the cold look in his eyes and the work of a fear monger. Sieger was everything Jamie was not. Despite everything, Castor's suggestion that her words may have left some sort of lasting impact on the leader of the First Order surprised her. The blonde expected little more than lip service at the hand of a tyrant so hellbent on subduing the galaxy that it gave little credence to a foreign noblewoman's counsel.

Picking herself up from where she sat the queen made her way to Castor's side, setting her hands lightly atop the sill.

"For thousands of years my people have lived this way. And a scarce few times has there ever been great strife. War is the greatest disease of life."​

​

The woman sighed, turning her head to peer through cerulean irises at the Knight of Ren beside her.

"Life is a precious gift, one easily stolen. To end it in conflict seems a terrible waste when there is always alternatives. To see none is to be blind."​

​

Her gaze shifted once more to the horizon stretching out further than her eyes could perceive. There were still a great many mysteries in the galaxy. People, creatures, planets and everything in between that she did not and would not ever understand. But what she was absolutely certain of was that life was a thing worth cherishing and protecting. Ego and pride were little more than obstacles of the mind that had to be overcome to find true, lasting peace. Jamie pushed herself upright, turning to face Castor, her soft features hidden beneath layers of ornate makeup and attire. She flashed a brief smile, one of hope and uncertainty.

"I will raise the request to the Alliance. Armistice is not peace, but it is a start."​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

As the woman's words carried to his ears, Castor's eyes peered out across the landscape. This place was serene. Almost as green as Virgilia, though nowhere near as dangerous or sinister as the jungles surrounding the Bastion. As he yet gazed out over the terrace, he felt the woman's gaze upon him. There were so many truths to her words, it was strange seeing them from the other side. On the one hand, conflict was something that Castor viewed as necessary, but was it not peace they truly wished to achieve? The end goal was not to end up in chaos, disarray, that would go against the very intent of not only the First Order but the Supreme Leader. It was in the method that the two individuals found their differences. What Jamie would call waste, Castor would call sacrifice - but despite their differences the two at present held a similar view as to what needed to be done. He met her gaze for but a moment before she looked back towards the horizon.

"I will raise the request to the Alliance. Armistice is not peace, but it is a start."​

​

An inward sigh of relief gripped the Knight of Ren. It would not be easy, the Alliance had bled dearly throughout the conflict and to sway them from attempting to exact revenge would require careful maneuvering. It was a task that even after his limited interactions with the woman, he knew she was capable of. And so when she spoke her agreement to speak to the Alliance on the Order's behalf. It was only one angle that the Order would take to secure a cease-fire, but an important one, one that Castor was glad he'd managed to secure. It was this initiative that would see him well rewarded should things go according to plan. The smile which threatened to mirror that of the Queen was suppressed, a neutral expression instead finding itself plastered across his features. What would come next was perhaps the most dangerous part of the plan.

Castor had been truthful in his intentions and while he'd known the woman before him wouldn't turn him in immediately, he knew now that he rest upon the razor's edge, all it would take were a slight misstep and he could end up in a cell somewhere - not only that but it could unravel the very effort he'd made. A twitch played at his jaw as he took a deep breath. Soon he would have to make an exit, one that would allow him ample time to escape. Hard to do from inside the palace - but he'd always had a plan.

" I can only hope they will be as receptive to the idea as you have been. "​

With that, his own hands found the balcony as he rest his weight upon it, a careful eye flicking downwards and then back up. His eyes narrowed once more as he set his eyes out upon the whole of Theed.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

Jamie stood beside the Ren, her cerulean irises directed out over the expanse of both Theed and beyond, the falls below the grand palace built along the edges of the very earth it stood upon. Armistice was hardly an end to war, in fact it was simply a tool to push it further down the line, likely until one side felt itself stronger than the other, strong enough to topple the opposing forces with a calculated, limited number of casualties for their own side at stake. While the queen was a young woman of nineteen, she was still perceptive enough to understand what was at stake, and what the intention of both the First Order and Galactic Alliance would be in the long run, to eliminate the other. Perhaps it was still the child in her that remained, hoping that this could actually be a means to a permanent peace, however unlikely it seemed. Perhaps it was the politician in her that dreamed of amends extended from both sides of the aisle. Perhaps it was the Jedi in her that strove to see the end of war. And perhaps it was the pacifist in her that sought to rid the galaxy of further bloodshed through negotiation and civility.

All of which hinged on a thread.​

​

The blonde mimicked Castor, resting her hands gently on the railing of the balcony. The man was still very much an enemy of hers, one of circumstance, but an enemy nonetheless. Multiple times he had nearly ended her life. On Lothal she had merely tried to speak with him. On Mustafar she urged him and the First Order not to pursue the course they were on. Even as he tended her injuries on their way to Hoth she had pleaded with him not to continue this war. Her words fell on seemingly deaf ears in her struggle to reach both he and Sieger. But he stood beside her now, not as a friend, or an enemy, but something in between. His words, though not entirely genuine in their intent, were truthful enough in that she believed he was truly interested in at least ending the violence in the immediate future. Perhaps then clearer heads would prevail and whatever ulterior motives the First Order or the Alliance had may be averted entirely, and a lasting peace kept.

"My idea has always been peace without bloodshed. It is the Order and the Alliance that need the convincing."​

​

Turning, Jamie leaned against the rail, facing the inner chamber, her back to the falls, hands bracing herself on either side behind her.

"As for your earlier assertion, you'll find that you are safe here, should you choose to stay, provided that comes without incident. It is both bad manners and a crime against the Goddess of Safety to bring harm to ones guests. I suppose fortunately I follow those edicts, and do not believe in revenge."​

​

[member="Castor Ren"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Of that they were in agreement. Bloodshed wasn't something Castor was averse to, in fact the Jedi Queen of Naboo spoke the truth when she had accused him multiple times of reveling in violence over their numerous encounters. He was bred into it, taught the way of war and of personal combat which in turn had shaped the very manner in which he viewed the world. That by itself was no reason to be ashamed, at least not in his eyes. As Jamie switched her position to one of relaxation, or perhaps feigned relaxation, Castor grinned.

He was a hunter, a warrior, a predator. Even now his mind moved towards violence despite his actions speaking towards peace. He was in control of his actions, though his thoughts were another matter. How easily could he simply move to disappear over the balcony - how easy would it be to dislodge the Queen of Naboo in one fell swoop. It was tempting, but he knew the consequences would be in direct conflict with his intentions here, of the Supreme Leader's intentions towards a ceasefire. Placing both hands squarely upon the rail, his eyes looked out once more. Her denial of revenge spurred something within his bosom.

Anger, frustration, feelings of animosity, he could sense them lurking beneath the surface despite her calm demeanor. These were only human. One could deny the feelings however much they liked but no one was immune. It was the very definition of humanity. The ability to feel emotion, to express that emotion - to hear the girl deny herself amused the Knight of Ren.

"I appreciate your gesture of good faith, though I question your words as you no doubt have questioned mine. You deny yourself revenge? Surely you feel somthing - or do you deny yourself the very emotions which define your humanity? None are immune. Is that what your Jedi ways teach you, to become emotionless?"​

​

A snide remark indeed, perhaps testing the bounds of the woman's conviction though he was careful. To step too far may provoke the woman to seize him without further discussion, though he genuinely held a curiosity. Jamie was unique among the Jedi he'd encountered, less focused on the purging of everything that failed to align to her way of thinking and yet sound in her own beliefs. There was reason the Supreme Leader seemed to respond to her words and Castor surmised that he'd begun to understand a sliver of Sieger's logic - and exactly why he now sallied for a ceasefire.

[member="Jamie Pyne"]​

 

[Jamie Pyne]

The girl scoffed at the remark. Sun soaked hair and azure eyes turned again to Castor, a look of contempt in her gaze.

"Sure I've thought about it, as any person would. You've made three attempts on my life. You've held me against my will and used me as bargaining collateral. I have every reason to wish you harm. I have every right to see you imprisoned for the rest of your life in a Force Cell, bound by restraints beneath the depths of the greatest of Naboo's oceans. If I were any less a woman of my word I would plunge my lightsaber through your chest and drop your remains over this balcony."​

​

He was prodding her, provoking her to gauge her response. Perhaps he held some crude curiosity for her. Just how many Jedi had he encountered before? Jamie for her own efforts had only ever been in the presence of four Sith and two Ren, not including Sieger himself. Though what exactly he was she was still unsure. That wasn't exactly a large sample. Jamie then exhaled a deeper breath, returning her eyes forward towards the inner chamber as her back rested against the balcony rail. Her lips pressed inwards, head shaking.

"But Is that truly all you see me as? A Jedi? If so I fear nothing I've said has held any meaning to you. My words seen as nothing but a Jedi's. But I've spent my life on the ground you now stand on, insulting me once more. Not a temple on some distant planet away from the eyes of the galaxy, not in the arms of Jedi or the shadow of Sith. Do not presume to know what I have been taught without understanding my people. Yes, I feel things. But I exercise control over revenge because war breeds war and I will not have it on my doorstep."​

​

Perhaps he viewed that as weak just as the Sith had. It made little difference to her. She believed what she believed, and she would honor the traditions of her people and to her goddess. Even if she were not Jedi, as Queen she was held to certain expectations and among those was the extension of good will to guests, even if they would be her enemy. Short of Castor attempting to kill her once again, she would not raise her weapon to strike him.

[member="Castor Ren"]