Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Diplomacy Empire Day | GE Consecration of Imperial Center

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Tags: Corazona von Ascania Corazona von Ascania Sharad Dhavale Sharad Dhavale

The shockwave tore through the clearing like a thunderclap, as the nearest soldiers were thrown from their feet, their blasters tumbling onto the floor.


Aiden took another deep breath, keeping his breathing under control, but not doubt that exertion took much out of him. But there was no time to rest. More of their enemies continued to pour in.

Behind him, he could feel the flicker of Cora's presence through the Force, bright, steady, but strained under the pressure. The younglings clung to her, their fear like sparks threatening to ignite into panic. The lives of those younglings lost were still felt in their eyes and in their fears. They didn't deserve this, and the Empire would face the repercussion's of their actions.

He shifted his stance, raising his blade at last. The blue light cut against the deepening gloom, casting his face in sharp relief. Every bolt that screamed toward them was either caught by his blade or broken upon the remnants of his shimmering shield.

"Take him,"
"He should be the last one of them in this wing. I do not sense anyone else...living."

The pain in her words were heard, and they were not lost on the Jedi Knight. He looked the young one, as he didn't have time to debate. Aiden scooped him up in his arms as Cora used her energy creating a blocked for those that were coming through, it would buy them some time. At least a little bit so they could find means to escape.

"I'm with you, let's go!" Aiden spoke as the took off down the hallway. Passing by the bodies of Empire soldiers and Jedi alike, this was a catastrophe. With good lucky they would be able to reach one of the nearby landing pads in time, and hopefully it wasn't occupied by the enemy. There still should be some vessel left, this was their most desperate time.
 


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Nobility. Denon had no nobility. It had people of extraordinary wealth, certainly. Some considered them aristocrats, monarchs, Kings or Queens. But the nobility Aurelian had been born into wasn't built or lost in a day; and it was that sort, which did not reign on the cybernetic-industrial haven. Their nobility came and went as quickly as the latest hot commodity... if one wasn't careful. There were no guardrails. No systemic protections. Among the ultrawealthy, they would gladly watch one another burn -- what else were they to do with their time if not compete?

So it was nice of Aurelian to be so accepting of someone that didn't have a pedigree of blood lineage to call upon. Dominique understood that sort of thing meant quite a lot to his sort of nobility. How long one's lineage held high regard or station was something of a feather in their cap, so to speak. It could even dictate who among them led. Not all of them would accept someone not of their kind.

Which begged the question, why was Aurelian?

Dominique regarded the man from the corner of her eye; her head rolled a bit to the side with a smirk that pulled at the corner of her lips. A calculating and cunning man Aurelian was. A dangerous man. Just the sort of person a woman like her would want in a partner. But was that a romantic partner or a business partner? That was the other question.

Her golden eyes remain with Aurelian as he spoke. It was gratifying to hear someone appreciate Denon's position in galactic affairs. Especially economic ones. Though it was interesting to hear another speak of trade routes and political weight when she felt as though her world held those securely in hand. They were lofty aspirations of his. Grand promises. Ones she didn't question were beyond his reach if he set his mind to it.

Much as he could sway countless people to his cause or into his arms. Aurelian knew when to shout, when to sneer, and most importantly when to bait. "Naboo, and much of the High Republic, is a land of potential. Denon is a world of economic might. We can help shoulder the burden, facilitate growth, and bolster one's position in the galaxy. And that ability is what will make us an alluring target for your enemies." Whatever Denon could do for the Republic it could do for any other faction. Those that controlled the means of production controlled the galaxy.

One hand slowly reached up to slip into Aurelian's own before the other rose to envelop it. Dominique slowly guided it down to collar-bone level; her eyes calmly fell to the hand she held for just a moment. "I'm not worried about our enemies. Though I wonder about our allies. With so many conflicting interests will we be ready when the time comes?" Her eyes rose before her chin, an open and questioning glance up at the moment. "Right now what our worlds need is solidarity. To keep the opportunists from letting opportunities pass us by. Consolidate our authority."

"If we could do that,"
her fingers gently slid across his as she started to lift his hand. Once his kuckles were equal with her lips, she gave it a light kiss. "I'm certain things could fall into place." Dominique didn't immediately release his hand, but she did let it descend once more; this time further if Aurelian chose.


 


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X | X

Aurelian allowed her to guide his hand, letting her orchestrate the move as if she'd been in control from the very start. When her lips grazed his knuckles, a soft, deliberate touch blending political intent with intimate suggestion.his smile sharpened into something subtly dangerous.

"Solidarity," he repeated, savoring the word like a fine vintage. His fingers flexed beneath hers, slowly tightening around her hand. He didn't pull away. Instead, he let the contact linger, but now the touch was undeniably his, claimed and returned with a quiet possessiveness.

"You're right, of course," he continued, his thumb tracing a lazy, artful circle on the back of her hand. "Allies often ruin empires long before enemies ever get the chance. It's always the knife in the banquet hall, not the one on the battlefield, that truly topples crowns." The absentminded gesture was a thin veil for his clear intent.

Then, with a confidence that recognized no need for permission, he lifted her hand again. This time, the action was entirely his own. He pressed his lips to the base of her fingers, his kiss lingering a fraction longer than hers had. When his gaze met hers, his eyes held a bright, amused calculation. "If we speak of consolidation, Dominique," his voice dropping, "I want it to mean something more than mere rhetoric."

He released her hand, but only to step closer, close enough that his breath stirred a strand of her hair. "Naboo will need Denon's might. Denon, in turn, will need Naboo's legitimacy. And perhaps," his other hand drifted feather-soft along her forearm, a fleeting, teasing brush, "perhaps I need you to keep me interested when the Crown inevitably begins to weigh too heavily."

His voice softened further into that familiar, conspiratorial whisper, a blend of silk and smoke. "You want solidarity? Let's be more than just allies. Let's be inevitable."

A smile played on his lips, hinting at mischief and danger. He left her to wonder if his words were a serious pact, a flirtatious challenge, or both.



 


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Dominique stood patiently as the man adjusted his gentle, but assertive hold on her hand. Aurelian sought to return the gesture toward his own ends. It wasn't difficult to read the situation. It was the sort of thing you might expect in the Empire outside of the seat of power -- which would be run by someone with no time for playfulness. Then again, Aurelian was a cunning, shrewd, and ruthlessly dominating presence. If it weren't for his concern for his people he might fit in nicely as an Imperial. There was something to be said for one's personal jingoism.

What was Aurelian's ultimate aim? That was a driving question that'd brought her here tonight even in Imperial territory. Of course, she couldn't just ask it of him. No one would give an honest and complete rendition. He'd tell her something safe or what he thought she wanted to hear to placate her. Dominique would have done the same. And so they danced in an effort to discern who the other person was, how far they'd go, and what they truly wanted. More importantly, they sought to find out if their aims were compatible, or whether they would ultimately become adversaries.

"Inevitability requires discretion," Dominique replied softly. "The less those that'd come between us know, the better." Was it a pact? Or was this bald flirtation? An outsider would find it quite difficult to discern tangled with the baited breath as it was. "Until it is an unbreakable bond that will change the face of the galaxy."

She reached up with her free hand to cup his elbow. "There may be others, close to us, that won't understand. We'll have to confide in them in time to help us keep our secret." They could even act as go betweens at times to help maintain the act.


 

Mt. Strife, Eastern Arros Range,
Northern Temple Valley, Tython (903 ABY)


'Heh! Yeah, Barrans often end up that way, no matter how resistant we are to that in formative years.'
A little bashful, though joyously so, the Khan smirked as he recalled the journey of romance he had walked with his beloved Khatan, the life they knew they would be living, that which was known to give strength that rivalled greats. Whereas before, only the ideals and the enmities had guided them, and all in service to a power that coveted their own together, as in that sudden coveting of true Freedom, Thomas and Ardana found love and comfort in each other, to give each other something even greater for which they could fight doggedly, legacies for whom they would gladly struggle to ensure they outlived their parents.

Though their love was fierce for each other, nothing could (nor would-) ever match that love with strength in combat -
not for as long as that romance fought to assure the survival of their progeny.

'And as for the matter of a weakened Galactic Alliance - yes, I also subscribe to that being the reason behind the Jedi Grandmaster's departure, from Senate and Order alike. But if she returns, I believe she will have a certain - ah - aggression guiding her.... But we stand ready, its what Nomads do after all.'

Whilst true that the Galactic Alliance had weakened in it's most-peaceful years, enjoying uncontested decadence for nearly twenty years before Solipsis' first, most-unexpected return, the Khan understood enough of revenge to know that their greatest living champions were more than likely to seek retribution, not quite so easy to slay as the ideals that once guided them. After all, the Jedi only continued to grow stronger with every battle they survived, adapting to the severity of war as their armies and planetary resources depleted around them, and for as long as the Jedi persisted in their manic will to challenge Nature, they would continue to pose a threat to the very existence of Clan Barran.

Root and stem, just as they had wished for Asher's own
- but Mercy gained her ultimate victory in the end.

It was then that the Bloodhound turned his attention southward, looking to the quiet lake in the Southern half of Temple Valley, but then his heart-of-hearts quickly began to flutter as he quietly concluded,'And on the matter of my mentor, where he was at the time.... We're going to that island on the lake down there.... To find out what happened that day.... To learn what the Jedi kept me from learning, an' for almost thirty years.', already feeling that familiar, sinking sensation in the gut. Then after a small, momentary fugue, that sensation of the rising lump in Barran's throat instinctively had him reaching for his water-canteen, swallowing down the first of the early, dewy-eyed flareups as his feet instinctively started descending down the grassy mountain face.

'Come, Seer'aa. Let us walk through history together - an' let the magic walk with us.'



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