Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Faction Outbound Flight: Test Flight


Location: Let's talk about Clones bay-bee
Tags: Dominique Vexx Dominique Vexx

Aurelian listened without interrupting, the corner of his mouth lifting as Dominique spoke. She wasn't posturing. She was already ten steps ahead, and he appreciated that more than he would ever say aloud.

"Exactly," he said, quiet and satisfied. "Cloning isn't magic. It's logistics, biology, and time, all of it expensive, all of it unforgiving if someone tries to cut corners." His eyes narrowed slightly. "Kamino being gone didn't erase the need. It just exposed how dependent we were on a single solution."

He nodded as she spoke of other operators, of talent gathered carefully rather than loudly. "Oversight matters," he agreed. "Not because I want to appease zealots, but because this only works if the system survives scrutiny. The moment people start whispering about back rooms and shortcuts, the project collapses under its own weight."

His gaze flicked, briefly, to the datapad. The vote tally was shifting. Green lights spreading. Time was tightening.

Aurelian looked back to her. "If you have facilities that can scale, and people who understand what they're handling, then yes. Begin the negotiations. Quietly. Proper channels, clean paperwork. Strategic Command doesn't need surprises. Neither does the Senate."

He exhaled slowly, shoulders settling. "Templates can stay as they are. The results speak for themselves. I'm not interested in chasing perfection at the cost of stability." A faint smile. "But training is another matter."

He leaned forward again, intent now. "That's where Denon's judgment matters. Conditioning, adaptability, command integration. I want to know what you'd add. Not to make them more brutal. To make them last."

Another glance at the datapad. The vote was imminent. He could feel it, the chamber drawing breath.

"I won't be the one signing off on this forever," he said lightly. "But I'll be the one who starts it."

Aurelian rose to his feet, already half turned toward the door. "Send me your proposal. Keep it realistic. Keep it defensible."

He met her eyes, dangerous smile in place. "And make sure it works. The Republic won't get a second chance to pretend it was prepared."

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Dominique's smile didn't waver when Aurelian stressed the need for proper channels and handling of the situation.

"I think you'll be pleasantly surprised, Aurelian. I happen to be the Commandant of a very specialized enforcement organization with a focus on everything you just said. Someone like myself can only cleanup after CorpSec for so long before it becomes apparent a fundamental change is necessary, after all." She'd have the coordinators of CTRLd put together a brief for Aurelian's review regarding the training. Easy as it was to setup a private military organization with ambition to replace planetary security in due course, it was not nearly so in training them to resist the very forces that corrupted CorpSec in the first place. All that on top of the customary skill set one expected to see with regard to conditioning, intellect, and capabilities.

A soft laugh accompanied him reiterating his project's requirements. "I didn't rise to the Executive Board being reactionary like so many of its current occupants. Rest assured, Aurelian, I am all too capable of completely legitimate and inscrutable business dealings. Some mistake Denon as being run by monsters; the truth is, they're only monstrous when you invite it. Sociopaths not withstanding, of course." There were a few of those on the board. Stepping on the masses to acquire power suited a sociopath quite well. "And it will work. Consider that one less worry occupying your time."

"Oh,"
Dominique smoothly rose to her feet, "Aurelian, before you go, perhaps there is one thing you should occupy yourself with. Who is going to continue all this hard work, if not you? The chamber is full of people that seek title and self-importance. Blessed few that care for the Republic, or have the spine to oppose its enemies. I hope, for all our sakes, this won't be left to those with the most colorful and reassuring lies." She wondered if they'd have more discussions about that later. It seemed Aurelian felt the need to tend to official duties; well, he had started the session, after all.

Once Aurelian left her pod, Dominique would begin making arrangements. Voting would only take a few seconds, after all. There'd be a great deal of work to do back home. In the end, Denon would end up with a premiere facility. So much so, in fact, that she'd begin drafting plans about expansion on another world. Somewhere secure, but with fewer people and more room. Some dedicated manufacturing facilities for armaments and vehicles wouldn't be amiss. Oh, yes, the long-term plan would have plenty of opportunity for growth. An easy sell to her reputable business partners -- sadly the more unscrupulous ones wouldn't be able to partake due to the political demands of the project. There was sure to be other opportunities for them down the road, especially when it came to a 'response' regarding the third Death Star's construction.


 

Location: Good Business
Tags: Dominique Vexx Dominique Vexx

Aurelian's smile widened, genuine this time, as Dominique spoke. He gave a short nod, satisfied.

"This," he said, quiet and certain, "is why I came to you first. You know how to get things done without turning them into a spectacle." He stood, smoothing the front of his jacket with both hands. "And I know exactly how capable you are."

The datapad chimed softly. The vote timer was closing. Aurelian glanced at it, then back to her, already shifting his weight toward the door.

"I'll let you get to your work," he said. "Looks like mine is about to resume."

He took two steps, intent on leaving while the momentum was still clean, but stopped when she spoke again. He turned back slowly, expression thoughtful now, the sharp edge dulled by honesty.

"Too much power, they say. The leader of the Great Houses shouldn't sit in the Chancellor's chair as well." A faint shrug. "I never asked for it. I won't fight them for it either. Let them have their vote."

Aurelian leaned against the doorway, arms folding loosely. "I just hope whoever replaces me actually cares about the Republic. Not the title. Not the attention." His gaze drifted, unfocused, as he considered it. "I thought about my own party. Nobility loves to talk about stewardship, but none of them feel right. Sibylla will always cross my mind for it." A small smile. "She's content where she is. And she's smart enough to avoid this chair for now."

He looked back to Dominique, serious again. "If you have someone in mind. Someone experienced. Someone who would do right by the Republic. Put their name forward now." His tone sharpened slightly. "I can still maneuver a little before they push me out."

Aurelian straightened, resolve returning. "That may be the last useful thing I do in this office."

He inclined his head to her, respectful and warm. "Send me the proposal. I'll expect it."

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Senate Hall
Theed City | Naboo
Items: x

Verity Stuyveris Verity Stuyveris
Senator Sarn's face brightened at once, both mouths lifting into a wide, genuinely pleased smile as he watched a new resolve take hold of her, despite the softening at seeing how touched she was.

Good. That’s what he wanted to see. That self confidence. She had been placed her for a reason and he was sure she would do admirably. A soft, resonant hum slipped free, warm with approval.

"Here here, Senator!" he called out in cheerful encouragement, carefully setting his teacup aside.

Then the Senator of Enarc rose to his full height, robes settling around him as he stood, offering no further words. This was her moment, and he would not steal it with commentary. Amber eyestalk followed her movement with quiet pride before moving to settle to the chamber beyond.

There he stood in quiet support for what she would say next. Glad to see her claim the space she already belonged in.

 

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For a moment, Dominic simply stood there.

The holofeed had gone quiet, the votes tallied and sealed, the chamber dissolving back into their debates and back room deals. The Outbound Flight bill had passed. Cleanly. The advisor amendment had passed with it. The droid proposal had been rejected outright. The attempt to reforge the mission into a trade engine had failed by a margin slim enough to sting, but failed all the same.

He let out a breath he hadn’t realised he’d been holding.

They had done it.

Against inertia, against opportunism, against the quiet gravity of fear that had persistently gripped the Senate, the Republic had chosen to go outward. To look for the lost, not because it was profitable, but because it was right. For a fleeting, dangerous second, Dominic felt something dangerously close to triumph.

Then the reality followed. Advisor.

The word settled into him with a dull, foreboding force. Years, not months. Four years was an eternity in politics. Four years was enough time for alliances to calcify without him, for rivals to rise unopposed, for doors to quietly close and never quite reopen. He had fought for relevance from the moment he’d arrived on Naboo, learned how quickly absence became obsolescence.

And Naboo would not wait.

His gaze drifted, unbidden, toward the engineering readouts scrolling along the far bulkhead. Solaina’s domain. Solaina herself, somewhere deeper in the ship, already settling into the rhythms of responsibility. She, he told himself firmly, was a non-issue. Ancient history. Poorly defined, poorly ended, and thoroughly irrelevant to the task at hand.

Still, his thoughts returned there, circling, as though drawn by a gravity he refused to name.

He straightened, grappling with his countenance to return it to composure, as though the Senate might still be watching.

A voice cut cleanly through the moment. “Sir,” the helm officer said, turning slightly from the console, the glow of hyperspace calculations reflecting faintly off the transparisteel. “All vectors are locked. Wayfinder telemetry is green across the board.”

Dominic nodded respectfully.

“We’re ready for the jump on your mark.”

Dominic looked out across the bridge, at the crew stations, the quiet readiness of people who had already committed themselves to something vast and uncertain. The Republic had made its choice.

So, it seemed, had he.

“Proceed,” he said.

The stars stretched.

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EXIT​

 

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