Faction Break of Dawn || Viceroyalty [ CIS ]

[Ascendant Muse]

VICEROYALTY CHAMBERS, NABOO

Seven days.

When the Sith Empire finally relented in its civil conflict, its dying gasp released a shadow. As innocents fled from the regime's former borders, so too did a creeping suspicion. It ventured east down the hyperlanes, infecting the hearts and minds of many. Even the esteemed body of the Confederacy. In short order, the question of who or what was entering the borders took center stage. The suspicion grew to fear. Fear to paranoia. Until the questions were not about what was outside of their nation, but who was within. At an unprecedented pace, the governing body of the Southern Systems pointed its fingers towards the one who had started it all. He had made no illusions about who he was from the beginning.

And in the wake of the Empire's fall, he was no longer viewed as their leader and guide.

He was viewed as an adversary. A being born of shadow, hellbent on hastening their demise.

This view was championed by two worlds in particular. Thyferra and Ra'Katha worked together to ensure that this delusion became canon. And as the mounting accusations and claims grew, the former Vicelord did what was best for their democracy. In order to honor the work of his hands, he stepped aside and trusted the democratic process. He did what was different - at least compared to the authoritarians who shared the same religion. When challenged, most bearing the title Darth wouldn't dare to stand aside. They would fight, break, and dominate. But Isley Verd was different. He entrusted the South to do what was right, for their future, and watched in peace as the representative of Thyferra was chosen as his successor.

The Confederacy was not without its problems following this change in leadership. Civil unrest yet plagued member worlds. The Bryn'adul threat encroached upon their borders with each passing week. And in the distance, Csilla met its end at the hands of a new threat. The was work to be done, and the nation was content to roll up its sleeves.

The most pressing matter, at least in the eyes of the South and its immediate neighbors, was the Bryn'adul scourge. Their allies, the Silver Jedi and Eternal Empire, had been waging war with them for years now. Yet, when the eyes of the Viceroyalty anticipated a direction towards addressing the monsters approaching their borders, the successor chose a different path. He urged the nation to allow him to sharpen his blade and to march upon the slayers of Csilla. His request was granted - and a strike against Rhand was launched. The operation was ill-fated. Many good men and women of the Confederacy perished in the assault. And, moreover, the mission goal of ending the Maw's slave trade had a morbid conclusion.

The trade was severely dampened, yes. As damn near all of the slaves were obliterated during the conflict.

The Viceroyalty would not declare this a victory. Even the Presidium did not look favorably upon it. In fact, one of the most decorated officers of the military and political sphere - the Minister Kiff Brayde - resigned following what could be considered a disaster. There was only one silver lining in all of this. The Confederacy had come face-to-face with actual Darkness. They had witnessed that there were yet Sith and monsters in the Galaxy. And from this truth did new rumblings begin. A new shadow was cast - not one of fear, but one of doubt. Was it true that their founder was a puppet for the fallen Sith Empire? Or was this a ruse to give power to Thyferra? With rumblings thundering throughout the Viceroyalty, a session was called. One to discuss the aftermath of Rhand and the way forward.

One could only hope that the South would be blessed with clarity sooner rather than later.

Spoiler: Tag

Darth Metus
Srina Talon
John Locke
Rayna Lockley
Alessandra Creed
Shuklaar Kyrdol
Svana Neoma
Tarssin Destat
Tarsus Kiyan
Vandar Tarkin
Xazzex Xivar
Raven Thystle
Jordar Varcskel
Aya Clarke
Teac Sadru
Aether the Iron
Custani Valcho
Ren Ashbridge
Lucianus Adair
Bastille Rommer
Rann Thress
Pravus Cruento
Derek Dib
Matthew Locke
Skatjaa Besadii Akkah
Draconis Sederius Wolf
Daegon Corvinus
Avadna Tekoa
Chikako Liona
Agravain
Imperia von Sorenn
Draelos
Starla Morello
Jorik Valnora
Runar Ulfsson

​

 

[Bastille Rommer]

S O V E R E I G N

Objective: Represent Ra'Katha
Location: Viceroyal Chambers, Naboo
Tag: Darth Metus

The embroidered suns of Ra'Katha on Bastille's yellow robes seemed to almost shine, though they had no luminescence to boast of. The Viceroy and Kemotar of Ra'Katha sat regally in his chair, flanked by twelve Aran'kha guardsmen. The Kemotar did not pray for violence, but Confederacy politics were growing more charged by the day. The extra protection was merely a precautionary measure, though it did betray the nascent strength of Ra'Katha that Bastille had so long downplayed.

But just because he did not expect violence, did not mean that there was no danger lurking.

A series of political blunders had driven the Viceroyalty to convene, the botched assault on the Brotherhood of the Maw being chief of them. The raid had not had a single drop of support from Ra'Katha; avoiding foreign wars had been one of the reasons that Bastille had worked with Viceroy -- no, Vicelord -- Daegon Corvinus to unseat Metus from his throne. Though there was merit to preemptive strike, arguments in favor of the assault vanished when said assault had been a disaster for the Confederacy. High-profile resignations throughout the military and public anti-war protest had followed. But that didn't concern Bastille, not as much as the rumors that were swirling around Theed:

Isley Verd -- Darth Metus -- had returned. And he was intent on reclaiming his seat.

There had been little love between the former Head of State and Bastille; the Viceroy of Ra'Katha had been one of the Vicelord's most vocal critics. The day that Daegon Corvinus had succeeded the former Vicelord had been a victory, though dampened by Corvinus's own politics. Nevertheless, he had been a lesser evil. And now with Metus returning admits an embroiled political situation, sparks were sure to fly. And Bastille could be sure that Ra'Katha stood a chance of being caught in the crossfire.
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[Agravain]

VICEROYAL CHAMBERS

As per the norm, Agravain settled into the chambers with minimal fanfare.

The Overliege of Ukio had matters of home at the forefront of his mind. The time of the year was Harvest - and therefore his citizens were working around the clock to ensure their crops were properly collected. With the Galaxy as turbulent as ever, agriworlds such as Ukio were a prized commodity. And therefore, they had contracts and treaties to honor. The Confederacy would feast upon the fruits of their hands. As too would the member worlds of the Abrion Pact.

Yet it was due to this busy time that Agravain had spared little attention to matters of late. He, like most of the Pact, did not share in the fervor which had unseated the previous Vicelord. Nor were they enthused about rushing off to fight the Maw when the Bryn'adul were next door. In fact, Ukio was a breath away from purchasing an armada to defend itself due to the danger.

Thank the gods for the Eternal Empire.

Today, the duties of his station demanded that he be present for the discussion following the Rhand operation. What good, or ill, would come of it? He did not know.

He only hoped that today would be quick.​

 

[Jordar Varcskel]

​

Some among the Confederacy viewed the departure of Isley Verd to be a good thing. Jordar had never been counted among them. Even though Isley had stepped down without incident there had been unease and even resentment among those who followed the former Vicelord. In some very public situations for example civilians had taken to assaulting people whom they suspected to be Sith.

The fault lines in the Confederacy had been laid bare along many fronts. The ongoing refugee crisis, the threat from the Bryn'adul to their allies. Many things had required the attention of the Confederacy of all the causes to take up the most controversial was striking the Maw for Csilla.

Were they correct in wanting to punish the Maw for Csilla? Perhaps had they not done so for purely political reasons. Daegon Corvinus wanted to prove that the era of isolation was over, that he had done however he had shown a weakness that Isley Verd would never have allowed. Jordar was no soldier, nor was he a force user. He was one of the trillions of lives that were impacted by the wars fought by others, so for both Csilla and Rhand, he could see both sides.

Having already signaled the speaker he waited. It took little time for those "The representative of Fondor has the floor" it seemed that nobody else wanted to start this dialogue so he would take up the mantle. His pod moved to the center of the room and he rose calmly from his chair.

"Fellow Viceroys, it gives me no pleasure to say this but it must be said. What happened at Rhand was an unmitigated disaster. It was a disaster that could and should have been avoided. Our intervention at Rhand cost us dearly in ships and personnel. In the wake of the operation, we have had high-ranking defections as well as resignations. And at the same time, they point the finger in the right direction. This battle was for Csilla, it was not one of our worlds. We took up the offense and decided to punish it. This was little more than a political move on the part of an untested leader to show that he was as capable as the former Vicelord."

He paused for a moment allowing his words to hang in the silence. "We have a very real problem that we need to address going forward. I am no soldier but what we showed at Rhand was that the Confederacy is not as strong as it once was and our enemies will take note of that."

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[Darth Metus]

NABOO - GOLBAH HILL

"Ah, it's good to be home."

Isley Verd rolled his shoulders.

Upon reflection, the sable-skinned man had always turned the other cheek. When he was infinitely younger, and assets were pilfered by Fringe and Sith alike, he forgave in the interest of the bigger picture. When the unity of the Mandalorian tribes was at stake, he put aside his personal ambitions and abdicated to Ra Vizsla. And in most recent history, he stepped aside so that the democracy he adored could decide for itself. For his entire life, he had put what was best over his own interests. But...He had finally had his fill. After stepping aside to appease the untold trillions residing in the Southern Systems, Isley was content to retire. He had returned his attentions to the corporate world and was intent upon quietly running his company.

But then Rhand occurred. And he arrived far too late to change the outcome.

From across the cosmos, his daughter Srina Talon had beckoned. And he came running to both her and the Southern effort's defense. What he witnessed was the absence of leadership. What he witnessed was the folly which occurred due to His absence. This could not, and would not, be allowed to stand. And so, for the first time in his entire history, Isley refused to turn his cheek any further. What began with a short and pivotal meeting with Daegon Corvinus had culminated in his arrival on Naboo. As promised, the sharply-dressed man had touched down in the three days following his reaching out to the current Vicelord.

For he would not remain in the Grave any longer than three days.

And as the Viceroyalty assembled to discuss the aftermath of Rhand, Isley made his return evident. His personal datapad hummed with a missive which was sent to key persons across the chamber. His Exarchs, John Locke and Srina Talon. Members of the esteemed Abrion Pact. Her majesty of Naboo, Svana Neoma . And much more. They would know of his coming. And he hoped they would rejoice at the news.

For now, he arrived within the esteemed halls of the capital.

The show was about to begin.

 

[Baroness Magrath]

O B S E R V E​

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NABOO - GOLBAH HILL​

CHAMBERS OF THE VICEROYALTY​

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Fear was a powerful motivator and it had motivated many to take actions and direction towards such thoughts that even they would not have otherwise considered. With the fall of the Sith Empire and the splintering of those that had once claimed to reign over such a vast territory, there was the inevitability that fingers would soon be pointed, and it was never a matter of if, merely when. Such events had happened prior to her ascension upon her homeworld of Sedesia, her own thoughts had been more focused at the time of consolidating her familial holdings and securing the establishment of a small Barony that her home resided over and sat at the center of its own court and intrigue. ​

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However, there was a greater intrigue to be had in the Galaxy, and there was no better place to swath oneself in such tasty rumors and gossip than in the beating heart of the Confederacy itself, the very chambers of the Viceroyalty itself. She had made the conscious decision and effort to not make such a grandiose display of entering as others of her peers had seemingly done so; rather, slipping into the Grand Chambers quietly and finding herself seated comfortably in the section that had been designated for the representative of Sedesia. A soft smile slipped across her lips as she carefully pushed back the hood of the cloak she had become accustomed to wearing. Long black tresses fell free, cascading over her shoulders and drifting slowly down her back as though it were a river that had been permitted its freedom. ​

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Yellow eyes carefully followed the motions as those within the Chambers took to their seats or began to introduce themselves or list off their own accomplishments. Of course, the topic at hand was the disastrous term of Vicelord Daegon Corvinus and the failure of both his administration and the catastrophic events that surrounded the attempted intervention of the Confederacy at Rhand. She could understand the reasoning, an attempt at showing the people of the Confederacy and the Galaxy as a whole that the Confederacy of Independent Systems was still strong, even with a new Vicelord at its helm; an attempt that had failed completely. ​

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As she sat quietly, waiting patiently and listening, a soft chill slowly crawled its way up her spine, causing the woman to sit up straight from her previously relaxed and calmed demeanor. A soft smirk tugged at her lips as her fingers lightly drummed against her knee while she attempted her best to now allow her eyes to rapidly dart about the Chambers. She could feel something, almost as though she had been thrown into the deep end of a swimming pool with a rock tied around her ankles. The sensation was crushing, she could feel herself laboring to breathe all the while attempting to do her best to not draw attention towards herself. If they had not known within the Chambers that he was there, they would surely know soon enough once he finally made his presence known to those that could not feel through the Force. ​

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"Here's coming..."​

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She barely whispered to herself beneath her breath, her smile curling her lips as she carefully and slowly brought her attention towards the center of the Chambers. Fear had caused those within the Confederacy to seek out the Sith in a vain attempt to oust them from their homes and shadows. Fear had caused them to push out the very individual that had brought the Confederacy up from its infancy.​

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Now, now the show would really begin...​

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Tags: Darth Metus | Jordar Varcskel | Agravain | Bastille Rommer ​

 

[Pravus Cruento]

TAG: Darth Metus Jordar Varcskel Agravain Bastille Rommer


Pravus had entered into politics because...he wasn't totally sure as to why he had entered into politics. His sponsor and all-round-mistress-of-corruption Hester Shedo, former Viceroy of Scarif and, until lately, Minister of Influence, had proposed his ascention to the office upon her own promotion. She had built Scarif from a backward former Imperial hub to a sprawling population centre, countless refugees working and creating new spaces for the houses they were building, armaments and advances in the sciences intended to propel the Confederacy forward.

Hester had been an important voice in these halls once, he thought. She had sided with the former Vicelord Metus on every occasion possible, often at odds with his loudest dissenters. She had courted Ministers and Exarchs alike, her will and influence trickling through the veins of government, weaving into the very fabric of the Confederacy. The people of Scarif loved her. She was a hero to them.

She had done nothing when the time came.

When the former Vicelord was ousted from power, she had said and done nothing, allowing a regime change as swift as possible. She might have said something, might have fought for a righteous ending. But she hadn't. She had enjoyed the newfound power, a voice within the Presidium that was somewhat respected, if not tolerated. Hers was a cautious voice, filled with patriotic zeal and a way with words that could spin even the greatest tragedy as a success for the CIS. Her propaganda ideals, her diplomatic touch, all commendable and valued. She had published the Kuat Accords, been central to various policies that would ensure the survival and propagation of a new political ideal within the Confederacy's populace.

She had done nothing when the time came.

She had been a loyal ally to the seat of the Vicelord but she knew she would unlikely survive or enjoy such favour from a new and emboldened Vicelord who would consolidate their power with a terrifying conviction. She, like the assembled throng today, knew Daegon would not survive this political massacre.

So she had left. Pravus knew she was off somewhere, using her inexhaustible wealth and hard-fought powers to influence some poor system or political spin somewhere-he had heard perhaps the Alliance territories were ripe for her unique brand of game playing. All he knew was that for the first time in his term as Viceroy; he was alone.

Her work lay about him, however. The palace that he sat in, the offices he stalked, the committees he sat on, the councils he presided over. The Abrion Pact, a beacon of stability in the south of the CIS territories, would maintain its goals steadfastly. She hadn't sat on that council for some time but her opinion on the matters of the council had always made their way into the mouth of somebody present.

Pravus now sat in the Scarif seat, one he had occupied many times now, and watched the proceedings.

He listened to the Viceroy of Fondor. A sensible fellow. He spoke of disaster. That was a certainty. Rhand had cost the Confederacy painfully. After years of isolation under CIS FIRST, the Confederacy had flung its full might at an enemy, like a spring that was coiled for far too long. Instead of pouncing with full energy, it had snapped, splintering and shattering. The thousands of service folk, including native Scarifans, who would not return from the Rhand disaster, was a disaster upon disaster. It had cost the lives of many and cost the careers of several. The Minister of War Kiff Brayde had resigned, several of the senior NAVCOM had surrendered their commissions. Verin Oldo was said to have been near driven mad when his fleet was obliterated.

The galaxy would be watching, Pravus knew that. The high-stakes trial that followed was intended to put the blame on somebody. The culprit was duly banished from Confederate space-a light sentence for somebody who banished thousands, including the slaves they had been sent to rescue, from Confederate space into oblivion.

He eyed Bastille Rommer , a famous anti-Federalist, anti-Presidiumite, heck, an 'anti-anything-outside-Ra'kathan'. His former mentor had disliked him profusely. Pravus had tried to avoid him as much as possible, to escape any awkward interaction that might occur.

No. Pravus wasn't sure why he had entered politics but he was there, at the moment of moments. He felt himself calling for the floor.

He rose, in the usual fashion Viceroys did to affirm or denounce the speaker's comments. The Point of Order was accepted.

"I concur with the Excellent Viceroy of Fondor. When a government, including this body, sacrifices the very thing it is sworn to protect, it can no longer claim any legitimate mandate from the people. Such folly, that Confederate service folk have been used to bring an end to a conflict that has only been exacerbated by its participation, is, in my mind, both criminal and negligible. It has seen a decimation of our forces, a gutting of the cabinet and seen an exodus of talented and committed individuals from the ranks of our command structure. The Abrion Pact has known its share of destruction and never again can the actions of so few be to the ultimate denial of agency to so many."

He sat, signalling that his interaction was over for the moment. He breathed a sigh of relief, never relishing the need to speak. But he had sponsors and lobbyists who would expect him to speak on behalf of the people of Scarif and the wider Pact.

He looked down at his monitor. A communique.

My goodness.

 

[Jordar Varcskel]

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Jordar paused as the speaker informed him there was a point of order he nodded and gave deference to the young representative of Scarif. As the pod approached he watched the young man. There was a time when another held the seat that Pravus occupied Hester Shedo had been a shrewd politician perhaps that was ultimately led her to grander things than Scarif, a pity. A polite nod is all he offered as he gave Pravus room to speak to the assembly he had come a long way from the young man he met on Fondor.

As he listened he found salient points from Pravus, to which he nodded and cracked the smallest of a smile in his direction before wiping the smile from his face, watching the pod withdraw back to its waiting position before he turned to look at the assembly and resumed speaking to the various other representatives. "The Viceroy of Scarif has eloquently said what is on the mind of many here. The very real truth of the matter is had the strike on Rhand been a success? Vicelord Corvinus would have been unquestioned. But in defeat, he has assured he has lost the support of the people and many of the Viceroyalty." he paused for but a moment as if he were unsure what he would do next but at the next moment a message arrived in his pod.

It was simply a short line of text from his assistant, informing that security had just let Isley Verd through. Jordar raised an eyebrow that was all that showed something was amiss. He almost laughed, was this the force that everyone talked about, or was this simply Isley Verd playing everyone. Whatever the case he quickly returned to speaking. "We are all aware that within the Confederacy charter there is no measure for a vote of no confidence where the Vicelord is concerned. Despite this, some sort of action on our part will be demanded by the people we represent. What that course of action is to be is something we must decide."

It was clear what he was suggesting but he danced masterfully around the words, just shy of treason against the sitting Vicelord. The Viceroy took a long breath before proceeding, his eyes glancing again to the message on his terminal and he laid his hands upon either side of the pod as he considered his next move.

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[Matthew Locke]

NABOO - GOLBAH HILL
CHAMBERS OF THE VICEROYALTY
Darth Metus | Jordar Varcskel | Pravus Cruento | Baroness Magrath | Agravain | Bastille Rommer

Spoiler: Wearing

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Making his way down the hallways towards the Viceroyalty chambers, Matthew looked down towards his watch, he knew that he wasn't going to be late, but he definitely didn't want to straggle his way into the chambers. He was known for his punctuality and didn't intend to be late that day. His shoes were echoed by the sounds of aides and other personnel moving throughout the complex securing the grounds and aiding their respective Viceroyalties notes on what they may want to add to the discussion the board was about to discuss.

This man walked alone, ever since his assistant had left him hot and dry he had not gotten to taking another, leaving him to his own devices and to take care of most of the duties himself. Stewjon wasn't a bustling planet of commerce and of much importance so his job tended to be less glamorous than that of the ones of Naboo or other such collosol planets of the system.

With the help of an attendant, he made his way towards the chambers to the seat that he was to take. The little name plaque in front of him read, Matthew Locke, Viceroy of Stewjon, reading it for a brief moment led him down a rain of memories that brought him there, specifically to his brother, John Locke , who had offered him the position in the first place.

Still being a simple man, all of this seemed unbelievable to him, being dragged in to talk about dark and light, he had seen many force users in his day, and had conquered a good handful as well, didn't make it any less daunting the road that was set before them, he only hoped that they would come through together and that they would all come back alive, and whole. Many of those that were a part of the Viceroyalty was not afraid to back down from a fight, and many would go to war against those they feared would destroy the galaxy in which they all resided, he only wished that all of those he had grown to know as comrades would be strong enough to overcome this impeding and growing darkness.

 

[Luca Donskoi]

Attire: Suit
Post: 1
Tag(s): Srina Talon | Jordar Varcskel | Bastille Rommer | Darth Metus | Pravus Cruento | Baroness Magrath | Agravain | Open

It hadn’t been too often that Luca ventured to these governmental chambers. And certainly not in the company of the Exarch, Srina Talon . After all, if he was attending these gatherings, it had likely been in the Exarch’s place as her representative when she would not be able to make the appointment with other pressing matters that were always demanding her attention. However, today the two would arrive as one. Both. As this occasion boasted a quiet significance in its own respect. And if the Vicelord was to make a direct appearance themselves, it was certain to draw a crowd.

Rhand had left a sour taste in many the mouths of the Confederate populace. It had been a defeat for certain, but toward many, the level of the defeat was terrifying. It was embarrassing. And it was by and large unacceptable. But the past was something you could change. No one could. There was simply the way forward that must be forged and set in motion. And that was perhaps what this auspicious day was intended for.

With much of the Confederacy licking its wounds and simply trying to stay afloat amid the wave of resignations that had come in the time since, it was to be a burden on the shoulders of this body to find the way forward. To rebuild and reinvigorate the very citizens that called this southern superpower home. And if they were not up to the challenge to do so, then perhaps a suitable replacement would be needed to see to the betterment of the people with which they had failed.

Luca let loose a short, muffled sigh and pulled a datapad from his coat. He browsed the contents of the itinerary for a moment before lifting his head and turning to the Exarch. “It seems there isn’t much in the way of an agenda for this session,” he said with little enthusiasm. “But the summons from the office of the Vicelord had declared attendance mandatory.”

He shifted sharply and peered into the chamber before them. They were still veiled in the shadow of the entryway, however he could see where the light shown on a number of the Viceroys already gathered. Notably Ra’katha and Fondor were front and center. Bastille Rommer was a man Luca had no opinion toward, nor did he have much of one for his counterpart from Fondor, Jordar Varcskel. However, he did know that both were likely to be a vocal part of whatever lecherous prose was to befall them all on this day. Other notable figures he was able to recognize which were already in attendance included the Viceroys of Ukio and Scariff. Sedesia had a presence, but he failed to recognize those gathered in the planet’s representative area.

With a final sigh, Luca reached and pulled back a current, offering a motion for the Exarch to enter as she would where he would follow in turn.
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[Aether the Iron]

VICEROYALTY CHAMBERS, NABOO

Even absent, he cast a monumental shadow.

It was difficult to stand in the chambers that had ousted one's father. Difficult to look the politicians who seemingly believed in doing right in the face. Yet, here was Aether. Son of the former Vicelord. Representative of his family home on Krant. Upon his shoulders reseted the responsibility to do right by the planet - even in the absence of their House's liege. And this was a task he would do to the letter - regardless of how difficult it was.

He lost count of how many times he wanted to lay into the pompous ones.

How many times he wanted to leap from his pod and wrap his fingers around the new Vicelord's throat. Or how he'd love to indulge in an old-era raid upon their beloved worlds. But, this was not their way. This was not his father's way anymore - so it would not be his. Their way was playing the game within its parameters. And Aether loathed it.

He was afforded one small sense of satisfaction. Seeing the blunder that was the Rhand operation put a smile on his face. He did his best to keep it contained as he settled in his seat.

Gods above did he wish he could be home with his Rogue and Mage.​

Bastille Rommer | Agravain | Jordar Varcskel | Baroness Magrath | Pravus Cruento | Darth Metus | Matthew Locke | Luca Donskoi | John Locke | Srina Talon​

 

[Jorik Valnora]

Tag: Bastille Rommer | Agravain | Jordar Varcskel | Baroness Magrath | Pravus Cruento | Darth Metus | Matthew Locke | Luca Donskoi | John Locke | Srina Talon | Open

Naboo. It was a place Jorik ventured often. Nor a place he really cared to. Yesmireen was in constant demand for attention and with the psychotic episodes of its citizens not recessing, diverting his time and attention from it was not something he really cared to do. Nevertheless, he was here. Answering the summons of the Presidium to an event he’d been given little information on outside of side of one word.

Rhand.

The failures of Rhand had cost Yesmireen, and Valnora Enterprise, greatly. But beyond that, Rhand had buried a dagger deep into the very soul of the Confederacy. A wound which the Confederacy could not afford to let fester on grow. While Yesmireen had its own fair share of issues, what pressed upon the Confederacy in this moment hung heavier. Yesmireen could continue for a time on its own devices. It still heavily support the efforts of the southern systems to expunge true evil from the galaxy. Evil that threatened the very fabric of what it was the Confederacy herself stood for. And even while recoiling, she could not allow herself to weaken and be intimidated. It was a time for strength, unity and assurance. A time for the Confederacy to show just why they had been who they were for so long. The pillar of strength and beacon of hope for the galaxy. And even if Rhand had offered a full novel of failures, they’d still come out of it stronger in the end.

And so here he was. Here to support and work for that answer the Confederacy so desperately needed.​

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Executive Formal Wear​

VICEROYALTY CHAMBERS - NABOO

Isley listened as the sentiments echoed from the chambers.

Monitors adorning the halls made it easy to keep up with the proceedings. And with each word uttered, the sable-skinned man only hastened his step. When at last he reached the door - his destiny - he shoved them open with boldness. To those who had known of his arrival, this spontaneous interruption would be of no surprise. Yet for those blissfully unaware...Isley could hear some gasp, grumblings of surprise, and even relief. He spared no time in "borrowing" the nearest unoccupied pod.

His gaze was firstly settled upon the Presidium's podium, where the reigning Vicelord sat. Where his faithful Exarchs stood vigilantly. Where he once sat before the esteemed body.

It moved to the pod of Bastille - the conspirator that had aided in his usurpation to begin with. There was no malice written upon Isley's features this day. He simply regarded them man with a smile. A nod. All whilst his pod hovered into place.

Then, to the representative of Fondor - who now held the floor. He motioned with his dominant hand.

"Will the esteemed Viceroy of Fondor yield his time?"

Bastille Rommer | Agravain | Jordar Varcskel | Srina Talon | John Locke | Daegon Corvinus | Baroness Magrath | Pravus Cruento | Matthew Locke | Luca Donskoi | Aether the Iron | Jorik Valnora​

 

[Jordar Varcskel]

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The uproar came quickly and Jordar turned to watch as Isley Verd occupied a pod, a small chuckle escaped the man's lips as he watched the presence of the Vicelord simultaneously confuse and calm various members of the Viceroyalty. Jordar straightened as the Vicelord approached and spoke to him.

"Will the esteemed Viceroy of Fondor yield his time?"

A grin broke across the man's face and nodded respectfully. "I yield the floor and the remainder of my time to the Vicelord. Isley Verd." There was no need to say anything more anything he would have said would only have brought the outrage upon himself. In this way, Darth Metus had spared the reluctant politician the brunt of that fury. Jordar with the balance of his remarks unsaid began to move his pod back to its original position leaving the Vicelord to face Daegon. It would be here that he would retake his seat and watch what would follow.

​

 

[John Locke]

Wearing: Would you believe, a suit?​

_________________________________________________

THE FORTRESSA​

Tagging: Darth Metus
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The Exarch's normally took a seat flanking the Vicelord, seated on the podium facing the rest of the Viceroyalty. The Exarch's were meant to be the hands of the Vicelord, speaking with his voice and acting in his name. It was a sign of their support, of the unity of the presidium against the galaxy.

John hadn't actually been planning on attending the meeting of the Viceroyalty, he could watch the debate on a holoscreen while working on the latest round of reports to come across his desk. More than anything else every nation, every group that he'd ever been a part of seemed to operate on paperwork. Budgets, expense and reports, so many reports. It seemed like people needed to account for every purchase of pencils and carpet…the CiS did seem to require a lot of new carpets. There were some things that the Exarch really didn't want to know.

It was a never-ending struggle to just lkeep onto of it all, even with the resources at his disposal. If you didn't at least look over everything you never knew what would come back to bite you. The most random piece of information could stick in your head, could prove to be useful at some time in the future.

The last thing he'd planned to was to be slipping into the Viceroyalty chamber. A message sent on a channel that hadn't been used for some time changed all that. The paperwork could wait, this he wanted to see. Only…not from the podium. Allyson might have gotten all the sneaky genes in the family but it wasn't so hard to take up a position in the shadows, dark eyes watching the center of the room, the Vicelor'd's podium. This would be…interesting.

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[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Executive Formal Wear​

VICEROYALTY CHAMBERS - NABOO

I yield the floor and the remainder of my time to the Vicelord. Isley Verd.

The statement was more than enough to spark a wildfire. And the sable-skinned man awaited a break between the spontaneous din. For all the sessions of the Viceroyalty - for all the times, they had thrown political daggers in these chambers - he could not recall a time when there was literal shouting at this magnitude. Some cheered. Some hissed. Such was the dualist nature of the beast. Isley raised his hand for a moment before stepping forward.

"My fellow Confederates, it is my highest honor to stand before you all."

He declined his head for a moment.

"Many months ago, when the Sith Empire fell, I listened. I did not allow my station to blind me to the wants and whims of our people. I did not allow power to override my purpose: which is Service to our great nation."

"I did not meet with Ryloth, Lok, and Geonosis to found this Confederacy as a means of edifying myself. All I have done - all I will continue to do - is for the betterment of this great community. Therefore, I have come home."

His dominant hand motioned first towards the pod of Bastille Rommer , and then to seat of Vicelord Daegon Corvinus himself.

"When the Empire fell, the flames of fear and paranoia were stoked by esteemed members of this body. I do not bear ill will for those who believed that my beliefs would somehow plunge this nation into ruin. But let me be clear on one thing - I have never hid, nor made delusions about what I believe. My religion is but one put of the whole; and every part of me is a servant to this nation. Not a King. Not a Dictator. A servant."

"And though Rhand was lightyears away from my quiet retirement, I was compelled to aide. As much as I could. Why? Because my heart does not reside in my chest. It resides in this very chamber. It beats alongside every man, woman, or otherwise who would lay down their existence for the South. It aches at our losses, even now. It leaps for joy at our triumphs. Because you are my heart, I cannot stand by and witness the course the nation is heading."

He paused, placing both hands upon the podium.

"Therefore, before this day, I met with Vicelord Corvinus. And we mutually agreed upon what was best for this nation. It is best that we put aside fear, paranoia, and that which upset the glorious course we once sailed. We agreed that, just I as I had stepped aside, it was His time to do so as well. We agreed that it was time that I resumed my service to the Confederacy of Independent Systems."

"So I ask you, esteemed members of the Viceroyalty:"

"Will you accept the resignation of Vicelord Daegon Corvinus?"

"And will you accept my return to the Office of the Vicelord? What say you all?"

Bastille Rommer | Srina Talon | John Locke | Daegon Corvinus | Agravain | Jordar Varcskel | Baroness Magrath | Pravus Cruento | Matthew Locke | Luca Donskoi | Aether the Iron | Jorik Valnora​

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[Daegon Corvinus]

Daegon looked across the assembly and knew his failure on Rhand had to be answered. It was not a strategic failure in the sense that their forces were adequate for a more traditional foe. The Maw were zealots, fanatics, and Daegon was not suited to lead that kind of war. Thyferra stood to suffer if he did not see to what he did best. Even as Darth Metus spoke, Daegon knew his next words.

He nodded toward the Sith Lord.

“His account of our meeting is correct. Today my resignation is contingent upon Isley Verd’s return.“

The Vicelord took his seat once more. Again he looked out upon those gathered.

The Demon watched on.

 

[Bastille Rommer]

S O V E R E I G N

Objective: Represent Ra'Katha
Location: Viceroyal Chambers, Naboo
Tag: Darth Metus | Srina Talon | John Locke | Daegon Corvinus | Agravain | Jordar Varcskel | Baroness Magrath | Pravus Cruento | Matthew Locke | Luca Donskoi | Aether the Iron | Jorik Valnora

At first there was shocked silence. Some in awe. Some in disbelief.

And then an odd sound: laughter.

The Viceroy of Ra'Katha was laughing.

"Viceroys: look at yourselves." Bastille Rommer's voice echoed throughout the Viceroyalty Chambers as his chuckles subsided, his smile theatrically fading to a faint expression of amusement. He had still been sitting, but now he stood, gathering his yellow sun-emlazoned robes about him. "Are you so cowardly, so treacherous, that you abandon the Vicelord that you swore in?"

"There is no harsher critic of the Rhand disaster than I, yet for one simple mishap I am not hear to reverse one of the few good decisions that this chamber agreed upon." His eyes swept, glitteringly, venemously, across the chambers. They gleamed black like two scorpions poised to strike. "Isley Verd, Darth Metus, whatever title he claims, was not voted out of office for one failure, but for the consecutive, repeating failures to lead the Confederacy in the right path. Need I remind this body of the terrorism of the Agents of Chaos, which saw the very heart of the Confederacy wrecked asunder? How, may I ask you, did the government under Darth Metus respond? By tucking tail and running to Naboo. In comparison, a failed military engagement light years away is a miscalculation. I ask you, is your world any less safe because of Vicelord Daegon Corvinus's actions?"

"For the few of you, your words betray your treachery. They betray your treason. You seek to depose our head of state in an unlawful coup, all in the name of justice for a poorly-executed military maneuver? Daegon Corvinus was not the only man at Rhand. Some have taken responsibility for their failures, while others," he continued, his voice honey-sweet and melodious yet dripping with venom all the same as he directed a pointed gaze towards where the Exarchs of the Confederacy sat, "have yet to. Who in truth failed? The Confederacy failed. The Presidium failed. And yet, that this chamber would even consider, for a moment, placing the sole blame on to the shoulders of one man so they can replace him with. . . this?"

He gestured towards where Isley Verd stood in his own pod. "This man is a warmonger and threat to the peace and stability of the Confederacy. His sweet words claim that he is a servant, but make no mistake: Darth Metus is every bit the tyrant. Kind deals with kind, and despot consorts with despot. If you do not believe me, then you only have to remember that it was Confederacy ships, Confederacy son and daughters who under Darth Metus's orders died for the Sith Empire, one of the most tyrannical regimes to have ever defaced the galaxy. Under his government, our closest ally was the next most authoritarian regimes."

"And you." Bastille's gaze turned towards the defeated Vicelord, Corvinus. "I wonder, did Metus cajole you with bribery, or blackmail you with threats? I look upon you and do not see the Viceroy with whom I spent many a long night working to save this Confederacy, to ensure that freedom and democracy would prevail in our great nation. Whatever this usurper did, you are not the same, Daegon Corvinus. If you find the courage within yourself to do so, I urge you to put an end to this mockery, but if not, it is disheartening that one of the Confederacy's brightest flames has been extinguished."

His tone was burdened, soft and sad, yet at the same time carried the thunder a Ra'Kathan desert storm as he cast once more a baleful eye on the chamber before him. "If this is how the legislature of the Viceroyalty present themselves, if this usurpation is condoned, then in the best interest of my people, Ra'Katha will no longer submit to the Confederacy's tyranny. The people of Ra'Katha will not be willing subjects to the next Emperor."
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[Agravain]

V I C E R O Y A L T Y​

Ever the contrarian, the Viceroy of Ra'Katha's giggles were the first to be heard.

The definition of posturing defined this man. Everytime legislation was put forth by this man, it always disproportionately benefitted his own interests. And everytime he opened his mouth, his words were never collaborative. It was no secret that there were two worlds who had spearheaded the effort to demand the former Vicelord's retirement: Thyferra and Ra'Katha. Now, when faced with the inverse to the initial treachery...the response was even more pointing of fingers.

Those who bore the title parent had a word for such actions: a Tantrum.

The Viceroy of Ukio simply raised his hand.

"I am not surprised that the Viceroy of Ra'Katha is balking at the question presented before us."

"I need not remind you all who enthusiastically encouraged the former Vicelord to retire to begin with. There was not a vote of no confidence, there was no vote remove him from power. The former Vicelord willingly stepped down to appease the fervor that Ra'Katha and Thyferra created. And then this body sat one of the conspirators as head of the nation."

"He places the blame on one man's shoulders, saying that we moved to Naboo out of fear. When in truth, our former capital was in the crosshairs. We evacuated to safeguard this body - to protect everyone in this room - and then this body made the move permanent. We voted for this. This is not the fault of one man."

"He speaks of the actions our military took - is it not this body that approves any act of war? Tell me, did we close our eyes and forget that we approve any international usage of force? We approved Rhand. We approved the Mandalorian conflict. And we approved sending assistance to the Sith Empire - insofar as they upheld the commitment to fight the Bryn'adul scourge. The Vicelord is Commander-in-Chief, yes, but this body commands the Chief."

The Overliege shook his head. He had to resist uttering a tsk.

"Any who has been a member of this body during the previous Vicelord's tenure knows that Ra'Katha has spared no love for his leadership. We all bore witness to the hysteria that Viceroy Rommer championed. And now, if he does not get his way, he threatens actual treason - for as we all know, membership within this body is permanent. Secession is Treason. That is the Charter we signed. That is vow and agreement we all made, regardless of political squabbles."

"With that all in mind, I, for one, am tired of spending precious hours in this chamber listening to the same self-serving drivel. So is Ukio. We vote in favor of accepting Vicelord Corvinus' resignation and to reinstate Vicelord Verd. We encourage the rest of this body to ignore this threat of treason, to ignore hysteria now and evermore, and to do what is right."

And with that, Agravain yielded his time.

Bastille Rommer | Jordar Varcskel | Darth Metus | Baroness Magrath | Pravus Cruento | Matthew Locke | Srina Talon | John Locke | Daegon Corvinus | Luca Donskoi | Aether the Iron | Jorik Valnora​

 

[Jorik Valnora]

Tag:
Bastille Rommer | Agravain | Jordar Varcskel | Baroness Magrath | Pravus Cruento | Darth Metus | Matthew Locke | Luca Donskoi | John Locke | Srina Talon | Open

And so it was that all the pieces began to fall into place. And the true nature of the meeting with which the Viceroyalty had been summoned to attend was revealed. Daegon Corvinus was stepping aside. A notion to atone for his own failures in his own way. In his own time. And in his place the former Vicelord, Darth Metus , was poised to step back in. An interesting turn of events to be sure, but not one that was fully unexpected.

Yesmireen had stood in support of Isley Verd for a number of years since they been welcomed into the loving embrace of the southern superpower. However, that support had not blinded the world to what had transpired. For in truth, it was the belief of the Viceroy from Yesmireen that the governmental chambers of the viceroyalty, whether here on Naboo, or anywhere, was to be a villainous hive of corruption. Corruption in the manner of men, women and otherwise, hiding self-righteous intent behind flowery words and wide gestures. So elaborate, in fact, that the commoner would never see the true meaning through the masterful and deliberately practice charade. Chiefest among them in the eye of Jorik being the Viceroy of Ra’katha. A nation that refused to support in the Confederacy’s time of need. And instead fault tirelessly against it. A regime from Jorik’s view, cared only about itself no matter what ill fate its choices led to befall upon another.

And as the slime of that desert world spoke, he could see and feel the words poisoning the minds of fellow viceroys and representatives throughout the chamber. This. This is simply something Jorik would not stand for. And even though the man seldom spoke in these things, he would not allow this treasonous sleight upon his people, nor the Confederacy.

He rose from his pod and called for the floor. It was long before he had it and the floor recognized him.

His attention first turned to the pod of the Presidium. “While it pains me to see you step aside before your office really ever stood, I cannot accost you for your decision. It is a choice that you made,” he said, pausing briefly, “and you are not the man to allow another to poison your thoughts or command your actions.”

He took a breath in and released it slowly. “However,” he started once again, “Neither Yesmireen, nor myself, can support this change of power, no matter how much support we had behind Isley Verd. Not without an election or discussion to be made here. This is a Confederacy of nations formed upon an agreement of thoughts and beliefs. We are all here because we chose to. And as such, the appointment of those who lead us, through good times and bad, should not be made idley behind a closed door in secrecy. It demands the consideration of the whole.” His hand gripped the podium in his pod. “Yesmireen motions that an emergency session be held for a nomination and election. While Vicelord Corvinus’ decision to step down is his own, it is our belief that the choice of his successor is beyond his sole power.”

Next he turned to the Viceroy of Ra’katha, a foul distaste palpatating in his words. “You speak of treason and challenge the validity of each and every member of this chamber here. Yet,” he said, “it was Ra’katha that refused to aid the Confederacy in Rhand. It was the drive of Ra’katha - you, yourself - that fought against the Confederacy and forced the former Vicelord from the Presidium. It was Ra’katha that has seemingly fought against the goals and trials of the Confederacy at every chance. Every opportunity. Before you go spitting forth accusational lies and trying to poison this very chamber you swore to uphold and protect, you should look inward and see who it is that truly betrayed the Confederacy. Who it is that really committed treason in the manner with which you spoke. If you can open your eyes to that, and remove yourself from your self-righteousness, I believe you might just surprise yourself with where such evidence leads.”

He stepped back from the podium, yielding the floor once more.​