Private Extraordinary Measures [Galactic Crisis Summit]

[Adhira Chandra]

Neutral Space: Denon
Irveric Tavlar - Darth Metus - Arctus Silmar - Darth Empyrean - Kiara Ayres - Kascalion Giedfield - Cedric Grayson - Natasi Fortan - Ingrid L'lerim - Auteme

Uncertainty hung in the air, high above the surface of the corporate megacity of Denon. Adhira stood huddled together on the landing platform, staring eagerly up at the clouds above her. Around her, a small collection of drably dressed Alliance politicians and CAD representatives spoke in hushed voices as if they were afraid a single loud noise might disturb whatever it was the Chancellor was watching for.

"Do you think they'll come?" a young aide finally broke the silence, though her voice barely broke a whisper. The Balmorran gave her a sideways glance, but it was notably absent of contempt. She could feel her anxieties showing. "I don't know," her dark eyes darted back to the sky. "How many?"

"I don't know." It had only been a few days since Adhira had sent out the extraordinary communication to all of the major powers of the galaxy that still stood in awe of the destruction of Csilla. Few were left off the list. Even the Worm Emperor had received her hologram. The message was simple: the various Heads of State and Government would gather on Denon to discuss what to do about the various issues that had arisen in the wake of the Maw's atrocities. The economic impact, the refugee crises, and the inevitable question of what to do about the Maw itself. She did not know what to expect calling so many different people and differing views together. She did not know if anyone would even answer her summons.

For the sake of the galaxy, she hoped they did.

There was a sudden whoosh of air above her and in the blink of an eye a massive star destroyer appeared in orbit... what she expected was the first of her guests.

​

Spoiler: Read First

This thread is open to all major factions' IC leaders (save the Maw and the Bryn'adul for obvious reasons.) Military detachments are not allowed on world outside of standard security for a faction leader. Other members of factions can join, but only the heads of state will attend the summit.

​

 

[Arctus Silmar]

The Shaper

The Iron Crown|| Whilstone of Prowess|| Whilstone of Acuity || Whilstone of Power||
Empyrean Gland
Voice Sample

Star Destroyer Evolution; Denon


The Shaper laced his hands behind his back, gazing down at Denon with a contemplative expression plain on his features. He did not attempt to hide the thoughts that played behind his crafted features. Retaining his more austere expressions for those that may very well wait below. It seemed, perhaps, that he was the first to arrive to the Chancellor's summons. How quaint. He had only mused the thought to himself when Captain Thrysus quietly snapped his heels together behind him, waiting patiently for the new Emperor to address him. The Shaper would glance back at the man, nod, and return his gaze to Denon itself. "Speak Captain."

Thrysus nodded, adjusted his uniform with a bit of anxiousness, before informing him. "No trace of any subterfuge My Lord. No hidden ambush, no vessels primed to place a tracking beacon on the Evolution, nothing. It seems the Chancellor is at least playing at a peaceful council." The Shaper nodded, once, but his eyes narrowed ever so slightly down onto Denon. "I see. Tell me, Captain, do you think it wise to be in attendance here? Speak plainly." The Captain paused, his throat constricting briefly as he contemplated whether to do as The Shaper bid, before sighing quietly and shaking his head. Removing his hat to rub at his thinning hair. "I do not, My Lord. With the ongoing conflicts, the preparations on Dromund Kaas and Corbos, I feel our efforts are better spent elsewhere."

Taking a moment to appreciate the man's candor The Shaper let a small, wry smile grace his features. The darkness curling about his robes in a sinuous display as he hummed. "I agree, Captain. Much will change for the Sith, soon. War or no. There is, perhaps, a facet to this arrangement worth considering. It present a face, a lie, normality and certainty to a galaxy quaking with indetermination and self-interest." Turning now to fully face the Captain his smile became something closer to normal, though still bearing supreme confidence behind every twitch of muscle. "See to it that my shuttle is prepared. We descend shortly. See to it that Mr. Frost is alerted and prepared. He will be overseeing my security alone for this.... outing."


Denon; Surface


Glancing sidelong to Kuben Woods as The Shaper seemed to glide over the ground he strode upon, he had made it known to the man to maintain his composure and focus for this mission. As, while he always expected deception from their enemies, the destruction of Csilla had terrified the Alliance in a wholly interesting way. He could feel the tense, raw emotion in the air. Every eye of every Alliance aide, disguised SIA agent and politician present no doubt itching to make an attempt on his life in some form or fashion. Adhira Chandra herself hardly an exception. It was only after a deluge of checkpoints, security clearance and bureaucratic 'red tape' that made The Shaper's gut turn in disgust that he found himself and his guardian settled.

Taking a long moment to allow Damian to perform his duties The Shaper set about approaching The Chancellor with a gaze that was.... both entirely disappointed while simultaneously contemplative. Seeing recordings, holograms, pictures, paintings and portraits of someone simply lacked the gravitas of their personal presence. Especially when the person in question ruled part of the galaxy, a domain to call their very own, and The Shaper gazed down at the Chancellor for only a brief moment before a practiced smile adorned his face. Something likely familiar but dissimilar to the smiles one would receive in political hum-drum as he greeted her in a low baritone. "Chancellor. You're looking quite lovely today." The glimmering jewels in the crown he wore would twinkle briefly before dimming and The Shaper would lace his hands behind his back as he studied the woman. "Though I must admit, from studying your likeness, you are shorter than I expected."

 

[Kuben Woods]

Combat Harness | Lightsaber | Body



Damian had sat dutifully for the final few hours that he'd been aboard the Star Destroyer. He'd spent the first bit of time doing physical training, and then practicing simple forms with the lightsaber. He was still rather untrained, but he was picking up fast. The issue being that his prior training with swords had the double edged effect of both accelerating and hindering his training. Lightsabers were the same, yet fundamentally different melee weapons, and Damian was still trying to get over that. And the whole deflect blaster fire thing most force users were able to do, that was something else entirely and Damian was struggling with it. However for the final stretch of the trip he would not dare keep himself less than fully able for duty and combat. He was a servant of the Empire and its Emperor. His master, The Shaper, had in essence recreated him. So he had a duty to serve. When his room door opened he was already dressed in his combat harness, knowing full well his other battle dress would be more than likely stripped had he tried to enter with its sword and shield. This mission required that he be fully capable of protecting the Emperor. He'd been waiting for the call.

____________​

Damian would walk silently alongside his master. His visor was always looking forward, however his eyes were constantly scanning the area around them. Every single scratch, every nook and cranny, anything that looked either like it was notable or not was drank in. As he was moving along he was wargaming in his head how many people it would take to storm the building, where explosives might be placed, where the traps and defenses would be. Most importantly how long he would have to hold the enemy at bay should his master becoming incapacitated for reinforcements to arrive. He would remain exactly one foot off of Arctus's left side with another foot of space behind him. His ears would listen in to everything around him, each footfall of those around them, the words spoken, the unspoken silence that a few would give them as they walked. When his master finally paused after entering to let him do his work, Damian would take three steps forward and begin visually scanning the room. He looked across it, the various people already there, who could carry a weapon, a bomb, the various furnishings and where they were positioned. With every detail taken in, noted, and his mind beginning to earmark what was of importance and what could be slightly discounted, he would move to a corner of the room behind his master so he could watch everything. There would be no one who he couldn't see, nothing he wouldn't catch. He would stand a silent vigil, awaiting the slightest hint that someone, anyone tried anything even slightly suspicious.

No one would touch his master. Not a soul here would dare harm him.

Because any that did would be put down immediately.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

To say that the message was met with distaste would be a bit of an understatement. It took a grand total of about three seconds for Cedric to delete the message and set the matter aside entirely. What was there to gain with playing friendly with enemies of the faith aside from frustration and an all too predictable betrayal?

Very little.

As far as the Crusade was concerned, the other great powers were either enemies, traitors, or entirely irrelevant to their purposes. The only thing that might have changed his mind was the subject matter of the proposed meeting. He'd spent the better part of the day trying to ignore the message, putting his mind to the more important work of planning the coming reclamation of the Tingel Arm, but it remained no matter how deeply he preoccupied his mind. There was a nagging curiosity that gnawed as the edges of his perceptions, demanding that he hear what these other 'great leaders' had to say on his uncle's works.

Exterminating the Maw was his personal responsibility. Solipsis' rise to power was a direct result of his father's degenerate teachings - even after being dead for nearly twenty years, Mephirium's shadow still hung over the galaxy. If the forces of the other great powers could be used to put an end to the old man's legacy, then Cedric had no right not to attend.

He arrived with Pietro Demici in a snub-fighter with no escort or grandiosity. If this happened to be a trap, which he doubted, they could escape rather quickly as a duo. If the worst came to pass, only he and the Bishop would suffer.

The snub settled quietly on one of the more distant landing pads, well and away from any processions of the other nations. Cedric exited just as quietly, slowly approaching the chancellor and her guests. He was clad from head to toe in the traditional battle-plates of the Ashlan faith, a long robe of black and gold flowing behind him as he marched toward the others. The Blade of Ruusan hung openly at his belt, the holy weapon's mere presence designed to irritate those corrupted by the Bogan should they enter his vicinity.

"Into the lion's den," he mumbled to his companion.

"I hope you're taking proper care of my kingdom Chandra," was his greeting to the chancellor. Her title was pointedly omitted: so far as the Grandmaster of the Crusade was concerned, the very existence of the Galactic Alliance was the result of an illegal coup, and thus any offices that existed within it were similarly illegitimate. That did not, however, mean he was unwilling to play ball.

The exile turned toward Arctus Silmar . He didn't recognize the man, but given the markings of the star destroyer that had dropped into space shortly before his arrival, and the familiar stench of the Bogan clinging to him, Cedric surmised he was the representative of the Sith Empire.

The Essonian's disappointment was immediate, and wholly evident in his tone where his mask otherwise hid his thoughts. "Where is Carnifex?" He asked plainly, a hint of frustration lacing his words. He'd hoped the old beast would be here so that he might finally kill him, or at the very least force him to flee in humiliation.

It seemed that talk of the former emperor playing a shadow game had some merit, though whether he still actually held power was uncertain. If he did not, then the war would be far easier than initially expected, but the orchestrator of his people's suffering would still be at large. Even if they managed to unseat the Sith entirely, there could be no peace until the monster was properly brought to justice.

The thought made his stomach turn, but he awaited the stranger's answer all the same.

Adhira Chandra , Kuben Woods

 

[Natasi Fortan]

. . . no one can deny that these are difficult times . . .

​

Natasi gazed out at the cityscape of Denon's ecumenopolis, her dark eyes drinking in the towers and canyons that made up the planet's single massive city. Her shuttle banked through a canyon, streaking towards the landing pad to which it was being guided by traffic control. Her fingers twisted together, knitting between each other anxiously. She was unsure of what to expect at the end of this journey, or who else would be there. If it was simply herself and Adhira Chandra , that could still result in a lot of good. Any issues that her cousin had with the Alliance were now shown in the harsh light of day to be what they always had been: petty and irrelevant.

The First Order's isolationism had not caused the destruction of Csilla, but it hadn't helped the situation, either. Whatever feelings of animosity the former Grand Moff had towards the Galactic Alliance were of no concern to Natasi. Her concern now was to work with the other leaders of the galactic powers to prevent another atrocity like Csilla. She suspected that Chandra and the Galactic Alliance agreed with Natasi and the First Order on a lot more than that on which they disagreed, but the Supreme Leader was fairly confident that their common ground stretched to 'destroying planets is bad' at a minimum.

So while she was apprehensive, Natasi had reason for hope, as well. It was an encouragement, as well; the only reason Natasi hadn't made a similar invitation was the general consensus among the Foreign Office that it would not be accepted given the First Order's isolationism to date.

She was never comfortable with the possibility of loss of life, least of all her own subjects, but Csilla had opened her eyes to the knowledge that there were worse things than military casualties. If she had to send her metaphorical sons and daughters into harm's way -- equipped well, trained well, and morally justified -- in order to prevent genocide, then that's what had to happen: the people on Csilla had been someone's sons and daughters, too.

The intercom chimed and Natasi was distracted from her observation. She touched the control. "This is the Supreme Leader," she said softly.

"Your Majesty, this is Captain Delacour. We'll be touching down momentarily. Please remain seated."

"Thank you, Captain," said Natasi. She clasped her crash webbing around her slender frame and turned again to the window. They were closer now, and descending steadily. A few minutes later, the shuttle was on the ground and they were free to move about the cabin. Natasi checked her appearance in the 'fresher mirror, touching up her understated makeup and pulled a blazer over plain black sheath dress. Thus satisfied, she ducked into the cockpit to examine their surroundings, before she returned to the cabin, where she found her Guard Captain Dyrn Grav completing his security preparations.

"All present and correct?" Natasi asked pleasantly. She leaned closer, lowering her voice to a confidential tone. "It looks like the Chancellor has her hands full out there. Any objection to joining the party, Captain?"

Adhira Chandra | Dyrn Grav | Arctus Silmar | Kuben Woods | Cedric Grayson | Irveric Tavlar | Darth Metus | Kiara Ayres | Darth Empyrean | Kascalion Giedfield | Ingrid L'lerim​

 

[Dyrn Grav]

Gear & equipment in possessions​

Final preparations had been completed. The shuttle, nondescript as it was, had been picked for a reason; it was of a similar make and model as a considerably large number of vessels on Denon, so should the situation turn badly, Dyrn would be able to get the Supreme Leader to safety amid the ocean of common shuttles. Needless to say, there had been some adjustments and alterations made to the systems on Lady Fortan's, for safety purposes. It was better to be prepared, after all.

This was the second time the Guardsman had been to Denon. The other had been unrelated to the First Order. Still, the sheer scope of the planet that had been covered in cityscape managed to cause him pause, as he glanced from the shuttle viewport. Dyrn exhaled, then continued to gather his weaponry and equipment. He had double checked it all, ensured everything was functional and in a state of preparedness, and all that remained was to don the helmet once the pilot announced they had started landing procedure. Footsteps from behind caused Dyrn to turn. He saw the Supreme Leader, he offered a smile and nodded to her question.

"Everything in working order, ma'am," Dyrn said in a low voice, as he stood to his full height and adjusted the cloak over his shoulders. It helped conceal some of the plethora of weaponry he carried, as well as the bright silver armor he wore. The helmet was in his gloved hands as he caught Lady Fortan's eyes and gave her a reassuring expression. "I feel it is as good a time as any, yes. I will be right beside you."

With practiced ease, the Guard Captain slipped the helmet over his head, and then started toward the ramp way of the shuttle. The pilot used the internal comm to announce they had landed, on a rather open landing pad in the city it seemed, and he was standing by. Delacour had orders. Security specific, ones that involved a state of readiness, and sensor sweeping. Dyrn had no concern over the shuttle Captain, the sentient was good at the job, otherwise said individual wouldn't have been selected for the task.

Dyrn walked down the ramp first, he cast his gaze around with his HUD lighting up, and saw several individuals converging near Chancellor Chandra. With no pause to momentum or pace, the Guardsman stepped to one side and fell into line with the Supreme Leader, to her right within arms reach. Ahead, another couple of individuals clearly served as bodyguards, though similarly to Lady Fortan's decision, they were few in number. A small gathering made sense, it would help to diffuse tensions more so than legions of troopers or soldiers being present, or fleets overhead. Not to mention, being Denon, the likelihood of multiple Government officials moving undetected en masse wouldn't go unnoticed for long... but, for now, subtlety might have afforded them all some privacy to prying eyes.

Or maybe not.

Nonetheless, Dyrn's attention remained fixated on the surrounding area. He didn't enjoy the prospect of remaining on a landing pad with the Supreme Leader being so exposed, but part of being a protective detail was to adapt and overcome. And so he would. Right after he finished assessing the other individuals present, which seemed to include Sith and others. Fortunately, should things turn sour, Dyrn had methods to deal with those Force-related threats also. But, for the moment, the Royal Guardsman busied himself with gaining familiarity and remaining as unobtrusive to the Supreme Leader's efforts as possible...

Natasi Fortan | Adhira Chandra | Arctus Silmar | Kuben Woods | Cedric Grayson | Irveric Tavlar | Darth Metus | Kiara Ayres | Darth Empyrean | Kascalion Giedfield | Ingrid L'lerim​

 

[Kiara Ayres]

​

In the wake of the destruction of Csilla, the horror was tangible throughout the galaxy as they learned of the fate of the planet and her people. The galaxy demanded action, justice for the slain and assurance that the past would not be repeated.

As a seasoned diplomat, Kiara was familiar with the proceedings of foreign affairs and the tactfulness that accompanied such meetings, but as the newly installed Grandmaster this was her first experience of any such summit. Considering the circumstances these meetings were borne out of, she hoped it would be her last but that was just wishful thinking.

​

She watched out of the window, casting a thoughtful gaze over Denon and the meeting that lay ahead. There was no certainty about who would attend but she trusted that at least her allies were there and perhaps the Imperials of varying creeds who weren't known for their affinity towards genocide.

A sense of regret washed over the Jedi and she knew she wasn't alone in her pensiveness. The Concord had known about the ongoing battle on Csilla but they did not had armies to spare to assist as they contended with an invasion on their own soil to prevent the planets and people they devoted themselves to from falling into the genocidal conquest in the Eastern galaxy.

She knew not what other leaders would determine of the Concord's initial inaction at Csilla, though they assisted in the rescue operations once their own borders were secure, but hoped they would be able to show some understanding towards the situation the Concord faced. While they would spare what they could to aid strife in all corners of the galaxy, they were facing a humanitarian crisis of their own.

The Jedi Master stepped down from the ship's ramp and onto the ground, slightly lifting the hem of her dress as she walked. Although she knew she was safe here, nestled in between Confederacy, Alliance and Concord space, she could not be at ease knowing war raged on their Eastern borders and that there new rising threat in the Western galaxy. Her unease was not alleviated by the familiar presence of the Dark side of the Force.

Ahead, her eyes locked onto the looming figure of Arctus Silmar and hesitated for a moment before continuing her approach. She reminded herself that they were here for the good of the galaxy, or rather some of them were, and this was not the time for the clash of blades or philosophies. Today, they were something much more than themselves and they would do well to remember it.

Irveric Tavlar Adhira Chandra Darth Metus Arctus Silmar Darth Empyrean Kascalion Giedfield Cedric Grayson Natasi Fortan Ingrid L'lerim

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Leader of the Dawn of Hope
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Denon, Neutral space
Equipment: Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tags: Adhira Chandra | Irveric Tavlar | Darth Metus | Arctus Silmar | Darth Empyrean | Kiara Ayres | Kascalion Giedfield | Cedric Grayson | Natasi Fortan || Kuben Woods | Dyrn Grav

[ If the fear… ] ​

It was such an important step forward for which Ingrid had been struggling for a very long time. Although she wanted to stay in the shadows a little further after previous events, but she had to go to a meeting like this. When the invitation arrived, she was in Denon anyway, dealing with her own initiative against Bryn’adûl and organizing the their first meeting here. After that, it wasn't hard to come to that either. She sent a message to home to her husband and her best friend next to Telis, Cal Osborn, that she could only go home later because of this.

Needless to say, the two men were not happy about this when they learned that Tavlar and Chandra would be there as well, both of whom suspected a trap. Ingrid didn't, but she promised she'll try to end the meeting not as a prisoner of war, this was not Serenno. She was not alone now, her allies were also there, including Darth Metus and the Sith Emperor. And they already started to plan the negotiations with the Silver Jedi Concord about Bryn’adû that they should discuss this matter sometime. Grayson's new realm was still quite unknown to the woman, but she read many files about the man. And she had a meeting with the Worm Emperor before. As she knew the Supreme Leader as well, but she did not know the new leader of the last Sith faction yet, from there she only knew the Dark Saint.

This time she didn't bring the Soulsabers either, she arrived completely unarmed. She wore the usual military uniform without insignia, she still did not boast of being a ruler or an army commander. And if, after what happened, the GA will still insist on relinquishing the imperial title, well, the woman will be happy to hand over the throne to her husband and return to intelligence matters, because she will never accept the exile. She could not leave her people in such dark hours.

When she arrived, countless other leaders were there. She knew many of them personally, or the someone who accompanied some leader. However, she did not know for example Grayson personally yet.

"Madame Chancellor! Lord Grayson, I'm glad we can finally meet in person. I've heard a lot about you! Your Majesty, Mr. Frost! Supreme Leader Fortan, Lady Ayres!"

She greeted everyone in line, the others apparently had not yet arrived. Ingrid was curious to see what would be here today. The woman was able to work with anyone for success or what her plans required. Will others be so open?

 

[Auteme]

Adhira Chandra Dagon Kaze | Cedric Grayson Natasi Fortan Kiara Ayres Ingrid L'lerim Arctus Silmar ​

Auteme bit back her 'bad feeling about this' as the first of their guests began to arrive. It was one thing to invite Sith, another to place them in the same room as Cedric Grayson and Irveric Tavlar and expect things to go smoothly. The latter would certainly arrive soon, but in truth she was surprised to see Cedric here -- perhaps a sign of his confidence in his people's strength, or of his worry about Solipsis and his horde.

She glanced to the Chancellor, who stood only a few feet away. Was it folly or bravery to call this summit? The Brotherhood of the Maw's great 'accomplishment' surely had great support from many Sith across the galaxy.

Perhaps it was her place to worry. Auteme straightened slightly, her posture matching Chandra's -- from attire to demeanor, she had come to be the Chancellor's shadow, a reflection of youth. A junior not yet secure in her place. Even so, she sensed Adhira's unease.

She would have been uneasy, too, if a pale man approached her to tell her that he had studied her 'likeness' and found her to be short. His presence indicated he was a Sith. Whether he was of the Sith Eternal or the Empire she couldn't quite tell; still, she stood close to the Chancellor, just in case.

As the arrivals continued she found a moment's reprieve. Her hand wandered up to her ear, where she tapped her comm device. "Run it by me one more time, Dagon -- just so I have everything right. Don't skimp on details."

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Adonis surfed through the air with engines on minimum power - and while others brought Star Destroyers demarcated with their insignia, the Eternal's ship was rather mundane. No grand fleets, no great arrival - nor even the arrival of their actual Emperor. Instead, the ship found its way to the executive landing pads with no flair - only its obsidian hull to give the hint that it was a Sith vessel. When the gates opened to let its passengers out - only three would emerge.

Not the iconic presence of the five golden masks of the Eternal's God and Ruler - but the alabaster braid and marbled features of one of his agents. Darth Maliphant, eyes ruby swimming in black, glanced to the various arrivals with disinterest. Tailing him were the larger and more intimidating attache of the Praetorian - Sith built for combat, war machines carved into flesh who's faces were obscured by sealed masks. Not even their golden eyes breached its confines, giving none anything more than a reflective visor.

Maliphant himself was dressed well - black robes trailing from the phrik armor plates around the armor. Light enough to not discourage movement, and formal enough to keep him presentable. It's very design was to induce the mind's imagination on what Sith brought armor to a diplomatic meeting - propaganda in the very dress he wore. Immaculate and complex silver braids trailed intertwined down his back - a braid for every victory he had found on the battlefield.

When they arrived at the door, their entourage was stopped -

"I'm sorry, sir - but we were expecting 'The Worm Emperor'. You'll have to -"

"The Worm Emperor doesn't care for diplomatic summits and treaties. The Dark Council is busy - you'll simply have to deal with me."

The man seemed to stall and stutter before relaying the message back up his chain of command - and when it was confirmed, Maliphant and his group were allowed through. Eyes of ruby black watched the groups meander and speak - watched the dichotomy and tension form before even the first words were passed between them. For all the diplomacy and peace this summit was hoped to reach, Maliphant could already see the embers begin to relight; a conflict born from a peace summit in the making.

"This should be interesting.", he said quietly to himself as he found a seat separated from any notable Jedi.

 

[Irveric Tavlar]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
DENON | NEUTRAL SPACE
Adhira Chandra | Cedric Grayson | Natasi Fortan | Arctus Silmar | Darth Empyrean | Kiara Ayres
Auteme | Dyrn Grav

BLOOD ON THE LEAVES
​

Desperate times call for desperate measures. All that had reached the desk of the Imperator was that a summit would be conducted to discuss the threat of the Brotherhood of the Maw and a Galactic response after the planet of Csilla went dark...destroyed. In line with what Tavlar sought to accomplish with the Bastion Protocols. But Chandra's scope...seemed...broader, delusional.

Certainly so when he'd heard of the other delegations coming alongside the usual suspects in the Galactic political sphere. But then came the Sith Empire and Sith Eternal. Chandra would seek to save the Galaxy in dialogue with the very same individuals who reap the fruits of the Maw's scourge across the stars and all but perpetuate it.

But even so, all any of them would do is talk. At the very least, it'd be a noteworthy encounter, but one he highly doubted would prove to be useful or productive in any measure.

Glad hands, hypocrites...politicians, many of them. If there was anything and everything that could be said about Irveric Tavlar it was that he'd never truly concealed his intent or aim in any measure. The New Imperial Order as a whole was as brazen as it could be in its ambitions and soon he'd come eye to eye with those standing just as brazenly in its path.

Of those who were present or due to arrive, the only three he was truly acquainted with were Cedric Grayson, Master of the Ashlan Crusade and all but a kindred spirit cut from a different cloth than Tavlar. Adhira Chandra, Alliance Chancellor and his enemy in wits as much as she was his ally in materium, for all the Alliance and New Imperial Order were ideologically divergent, they'd managed a productive coalition to this point. And then, there was Fortan, all but God-Queen of the First Order who was perhaps the only one he was able to be genuinely cordial with.

The rest, he didn't know or care for at all.

He entered was what would have been expected of him, donning the field grey, Imperial, military uniform only befit for his station, with the rank insignia of twelve silver bars emblazoned over his heart to represent his position of Sovereign Imperator, breaking from tradition otherwise in that the colors of his person were the grey, black and crimson necessitated by the dress uniform of the Stormtrooper Corps and not the glaring argent of the Imperial Navy, the likes of the very Grand Admiral who hailed from Csilla at all.


In arrival, he didn't care to announce his presence to supply any further fanfare to his entrance.

The individual he gravitated toward immediately was the Jedi Crusader counterpart to himself, Cedric, speaking in a hushed tone to him.

"They want to save the Galaxy and they invite Sith, wasn't aware they were putting on a comedy as well." Tavlar said in a hushed tone to the man before producing a cigar and sparking it alight, a silent tradition kept to himself that all but affirmed one thing, business was due to begin.

 

[Darth Metus]

Wearing: Executive Formal Wear​

DENON

Csilla had been destroyed.

It is said that imitation is the most sincere form of flattery. And it would seem that a gaggle in the Unknown Regions had decided to improve upon the Bryn'adul formula. Where the crustacean-esque warmongers brought genocide to planets, the Chiss homeworld was utterly destroyed. Now, the Galaxy faced not one, but two threats which seemed hellbent on destroying everything.

The Southern Systems were no stranger to the earliest threat. As the Bryn'adul's rampage drew ever closer to their borders, efforts had previously been made to bring attention to the threat in its infancy. They attempted to make those closest to the scourge - the Silver Jedi and the Sith Empire - see past their religious differences long enough to put a sword to the menace. Together, they might have wiped clean the adversary long ago. Yet dogma won the day.

Now, it seemed the Alliance endeavored to do the same. To encourage the major powers to put aside religion and grudges long enough to focus on the universal threats. "Well, I sincerely hope her attempt goes further than mine." The Vicelord mused from his seat aboard the Confederate shuttle. His voice would fall upon the ears of his Exarch: Srina Talon . Officially, she was his successor and executor of his will. Unofficially, she was family. The closest thing he had to a daughter without actual blood running betwixt them.

"Let's not keep them waiting."

Descent from the vessel's ramp was quite literally entering the Galactic stage. Practically every nation that wasn't contributing to wholesale genocide was present already. There were some faces that the Vicelord recognized immediately. Friends of the South - such as the Silver Grandmaster Kiara Ayres, the Alliance Chancellor Adhira Chandra , and most recently Ingrid L'lerim of the Eternal Empire. Others he knew personally - such as Natasi Fortan of Dosuun, Arctus Silmar of the Dance Floor, and Darth Empyrean of...well, it wasn't his place to even think about that. Flanked solely by a handful of Magnaguards did the Vicelord stride.

Let the Game begin.

Irveric Tavlar | Adhira Chandra | Cedric Grayson | Natasi Fortan | Arctus Silmar | Darth Empyrean | Kiara Ayres | Auteme | Dyrn Grav​

 

[Adhira Chandra]

Neutral Space: Denon
Arctus Silmar - Cedric Grayson - Auteme - Irveric Tavlar - Darth Metus - Darth Empyrean - Srina Talon - Kiara Ayres - Natasi Fortan

Shortly after the arrival of the first ship in orbit, it did not take long before others started to appear. In truth, it had already caused some relief that so many had decided to join the summit, but Adhira did not yet know which ones. Adhira was less than thrilled when the first shuttle to arrive clearly belonged to the Sith Empire. Their new Emperor was quite unlike the others she had contended with - his corruption was not readily apparent. He took the guise of a rather benign, if unnatural-looking figure. His presence was unsettling, but when he offered his particular observation about her height she merely smiled. "Am I?"

The Chancellor hardly had a chance to say anything else before they were interrupted by the presence of an armored figure who first demanded to know the whereabouts of Carnifex - a name she did not enjoy hearing any more than she enjoyed being the presence of the current Emperor. Then the figure turned his attention to her. It seemed thus far that everyone in attendance intended to antagonize. "Forgive me... you do seem to recognize me, but behind all this -- finery I dont recognize you," she smiled serenely, "though I am sure, whatever claim you have to sovereign Alliance territory, we can settle once the crisis before us has been averted." One of her aides leaned forward slightly and whispered the identity of the figure in her ear. Adhira's eyebrow raised and her smile spread a little further into her cheeks. In an effort to lessen the awkwardness of the interaction, though she side-stepped the pair and walked forward to greet Natasi Fortan . The first familiar face she had seen.

"Natasi," she said warmly, her entourage following closely behind, "it is good to see you are doing well. I am glad you could come." Adhira and Natasi had met a handful of times and their two nations had communicated a great deal more despite their differences. The woman was the closest thing to a friendly face she currently had available to her. That was until Kiara Ayres appeared in the periphery. Adhira had only recently heard about the shifting politics of the Silver Jedi, but a true ally being present was a relief regardless. The Chancellor nodded to the Jedi leader and glanced at Auteme, hoping the two would have a chance to speak - perhaps bridge any gaps that had formed lately.

After that, the others seemed to arrive in quick succession. Darth Empyrean , a man she vaguely recognized but could not place; Irveric Tavlar of the New Imperial Order; Ingrid L'lerim of the Eternal Empire; and Darth Metus along with a beautiful young woman she had never met. Her eyes lingered on Maliphant, trying to place his name, but it escaped her. "Well... I believe we are almost all here. Thank you all for your attendance to this grave matter - I hope that this summit may be productive in helping to resolve the Csilla Crisis. Shall we proceed inside?"

The Chancellor led the group of leaders across the landing pad and into a towering glass skyscraper. At the head of the group, she continued on until they passed through a large pair of double doors where a massive circular ebony table awaited them, each chair with the insignia of one of the major powers emblazoned on them. She took her own seat near the door and waited for the others to move into place. ​

 

[Dagon Kaze]

He had wanted to take more than just a few winks tonight but that was not a luxury the Jedi could afford. If it wasn't dismantling crime rings plaguing home or fighting Sith and Draelvasier on the frontlines, it would be bureaucrats that would steal his sleep. And here - on Denon - of all places; the world which had become most recently his home even if he wouldn't admit that to Yula.

Exhaustion slumped his shoulders down as he swiftly tapped on the terminal before him, the bright light of the screen illuminating the dark room of the safehouse. The news that the Chancellor had sought out even the Sith to discuss the troubling matters regarding the Maw had him concerned. Dagon had been entangled with the cultists from the Unknown Regions since their first raids - those that had gone unnoticed or dismissed as normal pirate activity in that region of space. They had even reached Jakku before the destruction of Csilla at their hands had thrown the galaxy in shock and horror.

"Run it by me one more time, Dagon -- just so I have everything right. Don't skimp on details."​

<"There - I've sent it all to your holo."> he replied as he leaned back on the chair with an inaudible groan; never one to lay to rest and heal.

<"Mine and Ilian's reports from the Holy City, along with Senator Fossk's claim of a Sith Lord among the Maw. You'll also find evidence of Sith and Sith cultists during the battle for Csilla - most are reports from Jedi. Aaran, me and so on...it's quite a bit but you've always had a knack for pushing papers so--"> Dagon's tired smirk abated, replaced by a frown and fingers rubbing his tired eyes, <"--listen - there's something else. The Dark Lord was there, on Csilla. Carnifex. I don't know what game the Chancellor's playing but inviting his Empire to this summit--"> his voice trailed off <"just be careful, Auteme.">

Auteme

 

[Pietro Demici]

Csilla burned...

The Crusade hadn't been able to dedicate a large force to the defense of the planet, but their presence was still felt. Their courageous leader Cedric Grayson almost gave his life in defense of Csilla, and his bravery had become a rallying cry for those within their ranks. Numbers had begun to swell as the reality began to set in across the galaxy...

Democracy had failed. The Jedi had failed. So many years spent fighting against the dark powers of the Bogan, and for what? The destruction of a planet... it was enough to sicken him. He had decided to accompany Cedric to this summit for the purpose of seeing just how far the rabbit hole of absurdity could go... and he wasn't disappointed.

Pietro audibly scoffed as the Sith began to arrive. The very fact that their presence would be entertained for even a moment irritated him. Perhaps there were those that didn't know of the Sith pulling the strings of the Maw, but anyone that was aware of the battle for Csilla wouldn't be able to deny the Bogan's blighted existence that permeated the ranks of the marauders. And yet here they were... entertaining such darkness. Pietro had to take a moment to recenter himself, before he blew up at the summit.

The arrival of Irveric Tavlar was a welcome sight. He hadn't met the man personally, but he was well aware of his works. The NIO had been the strongest ally of the Crusade since they had joined the galactic conversation, proving to be invaluable to the cause. Furthermore, they had recently liberated Pietro's homeworld of Serenno, an act that Pietro would forever be thankful for.

Pietro leaned over toward Tavlar after hearing his comment, matching his hushed tone as he spoke.

"It truly is rare for a show to be both a comedy and a tragedy."

His gaze moved toward the chancellor as she called the destruction of Csilla a crisis. A bit euphemistic, for his taste. An entire planet being destroyed by a superweapon was more than a crisis... it was a travesty. He held his tongue again, however. He would save his thoughts for the appropriate time during the summit.

Dagon Kaze Auteme Darth Empyrean Arctus Silmar Adhira Chandra Ingrid L'lerim Darth Metus Kiara Ayres Natasi Fortan Kuben Woods Dyrn Grav​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

. . . no one can deny that these are difficult times . . .

​

Natasi strolled confidently forward into the fray and offered a shallow bow in greeting to Adhira Chandra . "Your Excellency," she said pleasantly. "Adhira. I wish it were under better circumstances, but it's always a privilege. Thank you for organizing this. I wouldn't miss the opportunity for anything." Internally, Natasi had to be impressed by Adhira. She was a consummate politician -- a term almost anathema to Natasi's own theories on power and how to obtain and exercise it -- but also an accomplished leader. Some would dispute it, but Natasi was pragmatic enough to know that Adhira's occupation of Coruscant -- the galaxy's unofficial capital -- gave her a certain level of political capital that the others simply didn't have, rightly or wrongly. That she was expending some of that cache for a worthy cause only upped her stock in Natasi's eyes.

She graciously stepped to the side so others could greet their hostess; there would be plenty of time to catch up at a later time, and there were important matters at hand. Natasi glanced between those who had already arrived and Adhira, her dark eyes scrutinizing the different players. There were understandable tensions there, simmering below the surface, maybe threatening to come to the boil. Natasi hoped that this could be put to one side for the time being. There were threats bigger than the ideological and territorial disputes, however justified those disputes were.

Others arrived, and Natasi's diplomatic mask was in full force.

"Your Highness," Natasi greeted Ingrid L'lerim , the Eternal Empress with a polite smile. Relations with the Eternal Empire were not what they could be, and troubling rumors about the Eternal Empire's conduct in former First Order territories were a matter of significant concern for Natasi and her government. These had been under a previous regime; therefore Natasi did not want to poison the well with the Eternal Empress. It was never too late to turn over a new leaf, after all.

Most of the others she knew only from intelligence dossiers, although she reserved a warm smile for Darth Metus and Irveric Tavlar , both of whom she knew to varying degrees. First Order relations with the Confederacy of Independent Systems were reasonably warm, and ideological kinship between the New Imperials and the First Order allowed for decent dialogue between the two nations. She hoped the trends would continue. She nodded a greeting to each of the other individuals, wary of the presence of Sith and extremists, but hopeful that the threat of genocidal maniacs could cause some manner of unity

When Chandra suggested they go inside, Natasi agreed and joined the procession. She knew that Dyrn Grav and Adrian Cassidy in her security detail would be relieved for her to get out of the open, although getting into an unfamiliar building -- possibly not as much. She followed the Chancellor into the meeting chamber and once she spotted the chair emblazoned with the First Order's emblem, she seated herself and rested her elbows on the armrests, waiting for the proceedings to start.

Dagon Kaze | Auteme | Pietro Demici | Arctus Silmar | Kiara Ayres | Kuben Woods | Darth Empyrean | Cedric Grayson​

 

[Srina Talon]

D E N O N
Tag: Dagon Kaze | Auteme | Darth Empyrean | Arctus Silmar | Adhira Chandra | Ingrid L'lerim | Darth Metus | Kiara Ayres | Natasi Fortan | Kuben Woods | Dyrn Grav | Pietro Demici

_________________________________________________________​

“Perhaps, they finally understand.”

It was not optimism that drove her words. It was pragmatism. Very few things drove the religious and morally superior from their ivory towers and iron walled belief structures. Very few things, very few, would drive them to associate with the sinful, hated scourge, that their chosen tools represented. The Confederacy was not the Sith Empire nor the Sith Eternal. They were not an Empire. They were not the same in any sense of being—But they did draw strength from the same poisoned well.

Some were enlightened or evolved enough to see the difference.

Others would only see one thing. Darkness. That vile, terrible, dark.

An entire world had been lost, destroyed, in their collective ignorance. The ripple of agony had carried far and wide through the Force the moment Csilla fell, so much so, that it still held a deathly echo. Such a calamity could be the required equalizer, the missing piece, a place where common ground could take hold. Either that, or, a return to disproportionate responses and well-nurtured grudges that culminated in a blood bath of their own making. The Bryn’adûl and the Maw weren’t the only threat in the room, nor, would they have to lift a finger if the assembled nations kept doing their work for them. The words of the Vicelord pulled her from sordid thoughts and a delicate sigh fell from primrose lips. Her words were a mere whisper in the landing craft, a cold, unfeeling breath of acceptance.

“Yes, Master.”

The pale Exarch of the Confederacy was well known for arriving at events, even matters of state, only when she deigned to. She was never late. Everyone else was simply early. It was the time of Darth Metus that she kept this day and thusly they would arrive by the summons of the Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance on time. The Magnaguard that flanked either of them were, for the most part, unnecessary. It was a show. A game of pretend. She was not a politician. No matter her attire or lack of weaponry there was a reason she had a terrible moniker. She was a warrior, a ruthless general when the situation called for it. This called for two things. Patience, and a shrewd eye.

It could be a trap. Could, be. She would be remiss not to at least let it cross her mind. As the notion moved through her she knew it moved through the Vicelord all the same.

…But their relationship with the majority of these nations had rarely been openly hostile. She would be keeping a firm distance from the Eternal Empire representatives, but even then, they had made their peace. Even if it was against her will. The nature of this summit, despite the inherent immediate threat, far outweighed the potential for suspicion. They didn’t have the luxury of indulging it.

Footsteps that were lighter than the air they breathed would carry her forward. She knew the names and faces of every leader that arrived. Just because the Confederacy wasn’t at war with any of them didn’t mean she had a right to ignorance. Adhira Chandra had indeed managed to pull them all to the same table. The last time this many nations came together, the Mandalorian empire fell. Silver eyes flickered briefly over Darth Empyrean who moved further ahead. His presence was unmistakable. One of the rings she wore echoed when he was close…But she left it at that. They were from two different worlds.

They both had their duties. Responsibility. She to her Master, and he, to his damnable Worm.

Her hand moved to touch the Vicelord’s arm before they proceeded inside and the light grey fabric of her embroidered cloak fluttered to a halt behind her as she came to a stop. The protocol wasn’t entirely clear whether or not she would be permitted to continue onward, regardless, her rank. “If it causes difficulty...I can wait outside, with the others.”

She didn’t relish the idea. At all. But, his word was her will. She would see it done.

 

[Cedric Grayson]

The exile huffed a quiet laugh at the chancellor's momentary confusion. He supposed the garments were a bit more ostentatious than a uniform, and they certainly didn't have a name attached. He inclined his head toward the woman in a minor show of respect, amusement lacing his tone. "Cedric Grayson. I very much look forward to whatever those talks might entail." He replied earnestly. The feigning of the possibility was more than he'd expected, though one would have to be particularly slow to actually believe they might come to fruition.

The reprieve was a welcome one. Cedric would offer Auteme a brief nod, though he wouldn't speak to her openly. There was no need to drag the girl into his grievances might have been with her peers. The exile's masked gaze drifted toward Irveric Tavlar , his expression a mystery, but his tone quite lively. "A nicety, I expect. It is the nature of democracy to appease. If these Sith were not included, they would think they were all being plotted against. It is their way." He replied far less quietly to his imperial equal. "Our friends in the core do not yet understand the spiritual nature of the struggle we find ourselves in Tavlar, but they will very soon. I promise you that."

The exile rumbled with quiet mirth at the cardinal's jab. Ever the critic, it seemed Pietro Demici was just as sharp as ever today. "That is the essence of the human experience isn't it? The greatest tales are often so horrific as to be humorous. The Maw is just another result of the Bogan's dominance over the galaxy, the Bryn'adul as well, and we consort with its slaves in hopes of stopping it. I don't expect much from this gathering, but it will certainly make for a good story if nothing else."

Pessimism toward any type of galactic collaboration had been his way for well over a decade now. What purpose was there in collaboration when it so often resulted in the sapping of resources and a stab in the back not long thereafter? Better to keep to allies he could trust: to allies that believed in a similar future for the galaxy, convenience aside.

He'd intended to speak further on the subject, but the words died in his throat at Ingrid L'lerim 's arrival. Uncertain of the woman, and equally uncertain of her realm, Cedric did his best to at least sound as if he were smiling beneath his helm. "A pleasure Empress. The Eternal Empire's history with Ession is not forgotten. I hope you are well." The beast that had become the Eternal Empire had been birthed at the collapse of the Essonians' old nation. They were as much the heirs of his people as the Ashlans, though the path they had chosen to walk was one of heresy so far as Cedric knew.

A tragedy, but then what was one tragedy amidst a galaxy mired in horror?

The arrival of Darth Empyrean momentarily pulled Cedric from his conversation. Last he'd seen the traitor, they'd dueled nearly to the death amidst the frozen wastes of Hoth. That Maliphant retained a position of power within the Sith structure was not a surprise - that he would be invited to such an important meeting certainly was.

It occurred to him then that perhaps with Pietro and Irveric by his side, the Sith might be slain. Surely they would be arrested by the alliance's peacekeepers, perhaps even killed, but the three of them could very well put an end to several tyrannies at once. The leaders of all the Sith that did not bow to the reigning Dark Lord were within arm's reach. If they could be killed, the mortal structures maintaining the Bogan's hold on the galaxy would be shaken, perhaps even irreparably.

Would Chandra try to stop them? Would she risk a war with two of the Galactic Alliance's natural allies in favor of its ideological foes? Perhaps if he simply acted alone, it could be done without risking a greater armed conflict. This new emperor he was confident he could best, possibly Maliphant if he moved with no regard for his own life. The Confederate puppetmaster could likely match him, but he knew little of the man beyond his name. Cedric would certainly be killed in the endeavor, but his demise at the hands of the Sith was only a question of when, not if.

It was only when his lungs began to scream for air that he realized that he'd been holding his breath, and staring intently at Maliphant, his body having gone rigid as he contemplated murder and political suicide.

"Well... I believe we are almost all here. Thank you all for your attendance to this grave matter - I hope that this summit may be productive in helping to resolve the Csilla Crisis. Shall we proceed inside?"
​

The words pulled him from his stupor. Cedric drew in a short breath, nodding to Pietro. "It seems it's time to begin. Remain nearby, and listen closely." He mumbled as he made his way over toward his chair, only half paying attention to what was going on around him as he ruminated on the cruelty of the galaxy. It seemed Pietro had been right; to place him in the same room as his betrayer and his eternal enemy's sycophants with no means to bring them to justice was the truest of comedies.

Srina Talon Natasi Fortan , Darth Metus , Arctus Silmar , Dagon Kaze , Kiara Ayres, Kuben Woods , Dyrn Grav ​

 

[Taeli Raaf]

It had taken the death of a well known planet with Csilla and the revelation that a major power in the galaxy had developed a superweapon capable of destroying one that had brought together another summit. The last one, the Elder Compact, had collapsed almost as soon as it took shape. The Silver Concord had pulled out, leaving just the Confederacy and the Sith Empire in a defensive pact that had been tested swiftly by the New Imperials. Now... well now the equations in the galaxy were changing.

The Bryn'adul were still on the march and the Brotherhood of the Maw was striking out and causing chaos wherever and whenever it could, and still war continued between the New Imperials, the Alliance, and the Sith. Something needed to be done to deal with the forces of chaos in the galaxy now, so they could get all get back to killing each other tomorrow.

Today, she was merely an aide, an adviser to the new Emperor in her role as Dark Councilor of Galactic Influence, for the course of this summit. Some of the players she knew, either by reputation such as Adhira Chandra or Kiara Ayres or through personal interactions such as Natasi Fortan or Srina Talon and Darth Metus . It wasn't her place, at the moment anyway, to speak up unless she was addressed. Following along behind Arctus Silmar on his right, with his bodyguard Kuben Woods she hoped something might come of this summit.

Although Cedric Grayson was not making his feelings all that hidden about the presence of the Sith Empire delegation or the Sith Eternal with Darth Empyrean , although it was amusing his first question was where was Carnifex. His comments to Irveric Tavlar were telling, but confusing. The Alliance had been in the thick of the fighting lately, especially with their Stygian Campaign.

Perhaps she should speak up to correct the record... but no, she doubted it would do much good for the zealot. She would either stay with Emperor Silmar when the delegates started for the meeting room or remain outside for consultation if he desired it.

Ingrid L'lerim Dyrn Grav Auteme Dagon Kaze Pietro Demici​

 

[Ingrid L'lerim]

Lady Ingrid L’lerim Ragal Terassi Vandiir
Eternal Empress of the Eternal Empire, Lord Commander of the Wardens of the Shroud, Leader of the Dawn of Hope
The Red Witch, The Night Queen, Lady Stuztala, Head of the House L’lerim, CEO of the HPI Consortium, Archon of the Primyn Group​

Location: Denon, Neutral space
Equipment: Brynja coat | Hersir Imperial Uniform | G1 OmniLink | The Last Gift || Empyrean gland
Tags: Adhira Chandra | Irveric Tavlar | Darth Metus | Arctus Silmar | Darth Empyrean | Kiara Ayres | Kascalion Giedfield | Cedric Grayson | Natasi Fortan

[ If the fear… ] ​

As she looked around and waited, she heard from one of the men that the Worm Emperor were not interested in politics and diplomatic summits, so they would not come. Yet the Worm Emperor did a damn good job of this game. They were charismatic and convincing, able to arouse doubt in others. The woman experienced this on her own skin.

In addition to the greetings, she hasn’t gone to anyone yet to talk more seriously with others. She felt weak, still. She stood apart from everyone and she also watched the separated groups. Officially, they were allies of the Sith Empire and the CIS, the reasons were publicly explained by STRATCOM, yet they were not part of the Elder Compact. And the other part of the galaxy treated them as enemies. The woman had no easy task.

She tried to find allies to finish the war. Ironically, this is exactly what the leader of a stratocracy did. She stood militarily to the side, receiving the greetings, including First Order's, or just Cedric Grayson's. His words are cold, hostile, and intersecting. Another reminder for the woman, she inherited only betrayal and distrust from her emperor, to whom she had remained faithful to this day, and never deviated from the path Dart Tacitus had assigned her, even if it seemed different to the outside observer. She had to play her games for the sake of the Eternal Empire and her people. She used different methods than Tacitus, yes. She preferred loyalty, straight behaviour, and the welfare of her nation. The Warden's path was the same, the assigned path.

CIS delegates were also present, the woman also recently met Darth Metus and Srina Talon in person at their own peace talks. She nodded respectfully to both of them. And finally Irveric Tavlar arrived. She would have had so many questions for the man. The war would have happened quite differently if the man had ever mentioned why Tacitus negotiated with them in the past. Today, the Eternal Empire would be on the side of the NIO. Since she knew that the man wouldn't have answer her if she go to him and ask her questions, so the woman sent him a telepathic message, not looking at Tavlar, only watching the crowd.

~ Your high-ranking officers were eloquent while I was in captivity, Sovereign Imperator. Interesting things were told about the NIO’s plans, including the destruction of the Force, and I also experienced, courtesy of the Regent Admiral, the path you are taking on this issue, including the organisms. This was the reason Darth Tacitus betrayed the Sith Empire and negotiated with you before his disappearance and death, Imperator? ~ she "spoke" in a respectful voice and militarily throughout. ~ Enough if you focus on me for the answer, I'll hear it, if you don't want to answer, it's enough just disconnect the bridge with a single thought, Imperator… ~

But the answer can change a lot of things, probably in favor of the NIO. But the woman no longer told the man that. She knew there was almost no chance of the man answering, but she had to try. When Chandra finally told them to start the meeting, the woman was still looking through those who were here, Sith, Jedi, other envoys, and then followed the Chancellor. She sat down in her place wordlessly in the room, making eye contact with everyone, if necessary, but she avoided the gaze of the new Sith Emperor, Arctus Silmar .