Great minds think alike, yet..

[Varik Ice]

Varik Ice​

Equipment: Lightsaber - Armour​

Location: Golbah City​

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Varik began to understand now, why others would hate living on his homeworld so much. This place was dusty and hot, and anyone living here, who had even been born here....well, they likely wouldn't survive days on Barab II, if that. He glanced around the landspeeder that he was being driven around in, his eyes giving away more than anything how much he didn't care for it. He would rather have walked, but his senators complained that it would be improper, so he allowed it this once, to at least try it. He wouldn't be trying it again, he knew that much.

He could've brought one of the apprentices; perhaps even a senator. Saavilin was Metus' niece after all, she would have made things easier. But he didn't want them to be easy, or to appease the Vicelord. Perhaps he was no good as a politician or diplomat for it, but he would rather look him in the face and say what he meant, what he wanted and proposed rather than step around the point for so long. Perhaps he preferred being an awful politician, then.

It was mainly for that reason that he came along. Some had security concerns, but he had none - The Sovereignty didn't revolve around him, despite what may have been assumed. Besides, if the Confederacy wanted him dead, there were simpler ways of trying it. He wouldn't have minded all that much, either. He had been itching for the thrill of a fight where he was in genuine danger for a while now - it was the one thing he truly missed about his time in the Empire. The lethality of the job.

Eventually, the speeder stopped and he could get out. It was a relief feeling actual ground beneath his feet, though he wondered if his robes and armour were particularly obvious on this world. He'd at least neglected the helmet, but only to show he wasn't here to fight. The rest could've been presumed to be a precaution, but it was in actuality, a show of respect; what he wore was representative of his people, where he had come from. Arriving dressed in this way, without any guards or escort, was a showing of trust towards Metus with his safety. He had faith it wouldn't be misplaced.

As he began walking into the large building that he was almost certain was the correct place to be, he wondered how much this would affect things for his people going forward - first impressions were of utmost importance, after all.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

Upon entering the building known as Independence Centre, [member="Varik Ice"] would be greeted with an immediate contrast to the sweltering heat of Geonosis. Cool air would envelope and embrace the Sovereign, as if to invite him to tread deeper within the structure. Simply striding forth a few paces would prompt a response from a pair of attendant droids who had been eagerly anticipating his arrival. These were protocol droids - unarmed and nonthreatening - which served the singular purpose of escorting Varik into the turbolift and out to the conference room that had been reserved for the day's proceedings.

And as the trio would eventually round the corner, Darth Metus was waiting.

The space was relatively standard, as far as professional environments were concerned. A long table formed the heart of the room, with a hologram projector jutting out from its center. A number of comfortable, leather chairs encircled the table, and at each place were glasses and pitchers of fresh water. As for the Sith, he strode forth promptly and extended his dominant hand to the Warrior-King.

And in that moment, Varik would bear witness to the history written upon his flesh.

He would see the burns, healed over time, incurred from blasterfire.

He would see the cuts, faded over time, incurred from the blades of his foes.

He would see a tapestry, woven into sable skin: a silent retelling of the man's existence on the battlefield. All penned, permanently, as the scars upon his flesh. The Sovereign would, therefore, understand that there were few in the Galaxy who would understand him as the Vicelord would. Few who would hearken to his concerns as the Vicelord could. And as his own nation and people took their first steps on the Galactic stage, Varik could rest easy knowing that the Confederacy would be there to aide them.

He could rest easy in knowing he had a kindred spirit in Darth Metus.

"Welcome to Golbah City." he began, rendering a firm handshake to the Sovereign. "Please, have a seat. Let us speak of what is to come."

Upon settling in, the Sith would seat himself beside the Sovereign. There was no need to situate himself on the far end, as if there was a gap in their station or who they were. "From what my niece has told me...and what I had the pleasure of seeing with my own eyes...the Sovereignty is a strong nation. And I would like to see her rise to even greater heights. I would like to share in the good fortune the Confederacy has enjoyed and help in bringing even greater prosperity to both our nations."

"What I speak of is an alliance. A covenant between your Sovereignty and my Confederacy - to collaborate, to trade, to defend one another, and to put to the sword our enemies."

"What say you?"

[member="Varik Ice"]

 

[Varik Ice]

Varik Ice​

Equipment: Lightsaber - Armour​

Location: Golbah City​

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Varik didn't even feel the change in air or temperature as he stepped inside; his body had never felt hot, cold, humidity or anything of the sort ever since he was born. It was his 'talent' within the force, this ability to never be affected by the climates. Sometimes, he pondered what hot felt like. What cold was. He never truly understood the difference, so to him it tended to match contrasting colours; orange or red for heat, a light blue or white for cold. He knew Geonosis was a warm, arid place from the colour of it, though he got the feeling it may be uncomfortable for some.

The Sovereign sauntered through the Independence Centre behind his droid escorts, examining the halls and architecture of the place as he continued, before he finally reached the meeting room. As Metus approached him, he had the man figured before any scars were shown or noticed; there was a way that someone who'd been through violence and conflict walked and stood, that it could be easily seen by another who'd been there. It may not have seemed like much, but Varik saw more from it than others would, and it perhaps made him more comfortable.

As he listened to Metus from his seated position, Varik didn't lean forward or move that much at all, only staring at him in order to listen. "Your niece has been a great help to us and the people she represents." It was delivered flatly and straight, since Varik had little regard or knowledge of typical diplomatic niceities. "The Sovereignty is strong, but it's still fragile. Still growing. I understand you have enemies, and I would like this covenant as much as you - but as we are now, we cannot be the aggressors in any conflict. If you're attacked, we will help you, and even if you attack, we can send token forces. But we need time to consolidate our strength." He supposed he seemed oddly articulate for a man with his origins - Imperial education did go a long way into vocabulary, if nothing else.

[member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Srina Talon]

Srina walked through the halls of the Independence Center, running a little behind, through no fault of her own. She’d just arrived back to Golbah City, ever the dutiful apprentice, and had required time to freshen up and change out of her sullied armor before returning to her Master’s side. Considering her history with Varik Ice, it made sense for her to attend, even if she was merely a buffer between two strong-willed men. The clothing that had been arranged for her by the attendant droids was certainly fashionable, when taking in the rather ostentatious style of Genosians, but a little too much for the silver-eyed Echani.

Nevertheless, grumbling silently the whole way, she’d slipped into an off-white ensemble that was patterned with some of the few desert flowers Geonosis had to offer. There were thick silver bracers on her wrists coupled with tasteful tan feathers woven into moonlit hair. Her usually braided mane was left long and loose due to time constraints, but no part of her looked rushed, or out of place. Elegant as always, she breezed into the designated meeting room, the scent of sandalwood and vanilla heralding her arrival.

Behind her followed two droids carrying refreshments. While the inside of the Independence Center was almost chilly, the world outside was a blistering, billion degrees. She walked past the line of empty seats smoothly, hips rolling in a comfortable gait, silver eyes silent. Her expression was quiet, beauty wrapped in stillness, but both men would be familiar with it. Srina had just as much emotion as anyone else, and if possible, an even greater capacity for it. She merely chose to ignore it for the sake of focus and clarity of mind. “Master…”, she greeted softly, sweetly, a light apology written into the singular word.

“Majesty. Please forgive my lateness.”

Considering the brief mental communications they’d shared at his ascendancy, Srina was both teasing, and rather uncertain of how to green this warrior made King. Not too long ago, she would have called him by his first name, but now, in the presence of Darth Metus she wasn’t altogether sure. The slender woman lifted a large pitcher of emerald grape flavored water from the tray the droid carried and poured three glasses of the chilled drink. She was aware that Varik didn’t really seem to acknowledge extreme temperatures…But the rest of them were melting. “Continue gentlemen... I’m merely here to serve as a familiar set piece.”

The first droid left as she set the pitcher on the long conference table and the second droid set a tray of edibles down. It was most fresh fruits and vegetables, some sort of simple candied nuts, and condiments for dipping. It was a well-known fact that the Sith Lord liked snacks with a crunch.

Srina placed a hand to Darth Metus’s shoulder for a brief moment, before taking the empty seat to his right. Silver eyes fixed on Varik as she waited for the conversation to continue, and she woke up a data-pad in preparation to take notes. If the Sovereign agreed to this alliance he would need to know the safe lanes to travel and all of the planets under their influence. They were very, very close to the Galactic Empire. It wouldn’t be good for anyone if an ally ship wound up in enemy airspace.

[member="Varik Ice"] | [member="Darth Metus"]

 

[Malok]

Master...

The gentle apology laced within the tone of the Echani's voice was enough to soften his expression. Despite the severity of the talks, there was just something about [member="Srina Talon"] that melted through the Sith's callous bearing. She was the warmth of spring, melting away the chill of his winter - around her, it was nigh impossible to regard her with some degree of visible fondness. Upon her arrival, and subsequent serving of beverages to the two men, the Sith took a moment to take his glass in hand. The cool within his grasp was elevated to his lips and sweetness danced upon his tongue. The beverage was not too sweet, not too tart - just right.

The glass returned to the table with a gentle tap.

"Your place is here, Srina."

His hand indicated the seat beside him, which she then gladly took. Then, his eyes returned to the High Sovereign.

"We would never expect the Sovereignty to join a fight we start so early on." he began. "Your nation is in a pivotal state, and the Confederacy does not rush headlong into starting conflicts. Any assistance you provide in the event of war knocking on our doorstep is gladly accepted - and know that we will always offer the same defense should you ever call for aide."

He paused, just for a moment.

"What other concerns rest upon your shoulders?"

[member="Varik Ice"], [member="Srina Talon"]