Sleep, No More

Madalena Antares · Jun 14, 2019

ORC: [member="Peyton Steele"] | [member="Atlas Drake"]

Walking by Knight Commander [member="Alkor Centaris"] was Knight Commander Madalena Antares. It was their first public appearance together; both Knight Commanders of the Knights Obsidian. It seemed like as good timing as any. Madalena was clad in her version of the Obsidian Strike Armor, its leathers and top layers all tinted with a deep red dye.

The expression on her face was… Peaceful. She had made it back on time from a mission on Kamino this morning, having had just enough time for a proper debriefing and small rest that for a change, she could not spend with her sister or with the man she loved. But that was to be expected; becoming Knight Commander had done little to decrease the amount of missions Madalena went on. As the former Dominus had described her, she was one that led from the front, from the field, and that had not changed. The only thing she wished for, and kept under tight lock and secret within her chest, was that the former Dominus would have remained in his position.

Glowing green eyes glanced over those who had come together for the summit. Her immediate attention went to the Exarch [member="Srina Talon"], to whom she gave a respectful nod before turning to look at the others. There was her sister, [member="Scherezade deWinter"]. What was she doing there? Aside for that, delegates from the Silvers and the Coalition had already gathered, though she couldn't see anyone she knew to be part of the Core.

Taking the opposite end of the room to where [member="Alkor Centaris"] chose to stand, Madalena made sure she was in direct line for eye contact with the man. The two were in charge of the security for the day, which meant they were the only ones who could openly carry arms (herself carrying the Dyntech Power Staff and a Yrkaa Sidearm), but she was not such a fool as to think at least half of those present did not having anything concealed upon their bodies. Especially a few specific Confederates that she was going to talk with after this was done, and hoping this was done without any incident.

Keeping a sigh hidden, Madalena watched. And hoped that would be all she and her partner would have to for the duration of the meeting.

Peyton Steele · Jun 15, 2019

She had to keep an eye out. This meeting was getting bigger than she suspected. ORC had a small contingent who arrived here, many were not the types to be attending the bigger events. They scattered to the wind, and the Judges remained behind in their own systems, and some of the higher ups in the Alliance had their own tasks. Starchaser out hunting the darkness and not meeting with them, Stazi family on the front lines… The Coalition had sent her here to represent the Underground and it was only through luck that they had linked her up with Drake.

Looking around, Peyton was doing her best tokeep herself as a slight target, nothing that would grab any attention, and with her position as an intelligence agent that still had a handler may keep most away from her. Not seeing her as a threat. The dress she was wearing, well that was just her being hopeful. “Some of these others, I don’t have records on.” She said as she looked to Drake.

“Keep an eye out.” She said to the Jedi who kept a watch around. She tapped the side of her head and the small data collection lens on her eye lit up as she accessed another program. Facial recognition. So many new faces, she was going to log them and hopefully provide some information to Drake before hand. Who was she supposed to speak with here?

[member="Atlas Drake"]

Pom Stych Tivé · Jun 15, 2019

CIS: Srina Talon | Scherezade deWinter | Darth Metus | Alden Akaran | Luna Terrik | Derek Dib | Voph | Alkor Centaris | Madalena Antares
SJO: Veiere Arenais | Josh Dragonsflame | Jessica Med-Beq | John Locke | Aida Aquila | Gir Quee | Gianna Aegis
ORC: Peyton Steele | Atlas Drake

Sigh...

Bored to tears already. Half the people she knows don't even see her sitting here. Clearly nobody is dying to meet her. Who does she have to hex to attract some courteous interaction?

She feels certain that this entire evening is going to be just as equally boring as it seems to have started out, as no more than a hobnob for the delegates, the in-crowd from which she is clearly far from being designated. Pom Stych Tivé only got invited because of Darth Metus, and she certainly knows he doesn't need her to be here. He can take care of himself!

The Nightsister rose up from her chair where she was lead to sit at the boardroom table, and pretending to be looking for the restroom she went back out the same doors she had entered. She has better things to do than sit around for all this splendid excitement. For instance, there is a little lobster place not far from here. It simply demands to be patronized!

She doesn't need to sit among a room full of people to be reminded that she is different.

'Ever the wall flower…never even so much as the bride's maid.'

-EXIT-

Malok · Jun 16, 2019

Location: Golbah City [ Vanguard of Polaris ]

Wearing: xxxx

Wherever the Silver One stood, the Master was never far behind.

In the few moments leading up to the arrival of the delegation, the Vicelord had the opportunity to lay eyes upon his alabaster apprentice. Following the mission to Kuat, the Echani was a midnight reflection of the woman he knew. With any battle, there were risks. Sacrifices. And the venture into former New Republic space had not been without its costs. In the case of his Exarch, an explosion had robbed her of half of her face - but in the moment of the detonation, her life was forfeit beneath a mountain of rubble. It took everything the Sith had to keep her from slipping into the embrace of Death. And though she lived, something within Srina died that day. She never once uttered a word on the matter, but the onyx which hugged her form was a testament to the changes. Where once she donned the purest whites and the most vibrant of blues, there was only darkness.

And these were Dark Times indeed.

The Galaxy itself existed in a state of perpetual cycles. There would always be an era of lasting peace, punctuated by vicious conflicts. Some would rise from the shadows in the hopes of shattering the peace itself. Whilst others would take up arms to maintain prosperity for their homes and loved ones. In the end, those who emerged victorious would stand as masters of the next era of peace. And it seemed as though, in the present, the Galaxy was racing headlong towards another era of conflict. For quite some time now, the Southern Systems had been in alignment with its neighbors. The Confederacy of Independent System had extended the olive branch of kinship towards the Silver Jedi Order, the Outer Rim Coalition, and the Core Imperial Confederation in the hopes of maintaining the era of mutual peace for as long as possible.

As brothers and sisters, they would defend one another from all threats. And as an alliance, they could take a united stand. Recent history had made it so calling together the great nations was an absolute necessity. There was far too much blood that had been spilled for any of them to cast a blind eye any further. As the appointed hour rolled into being, the alabaster woman posed a question of her Master. She inquired if he had decided the way forward - but she knew the answer without it forming and falling from his lips. Betwixt the pair ran a river of silent understanding, and through their Bond his thoughts were an open book. She would know that the reports were at the forefront of his thoughts. She would know that action was the decision he had to lay before his fellows.

Shortly thereafter, the representatives began to arrive.

At a glance, the man slashed in a finely tailored suit seemed to be a stark contradiction to the word Sith. But while a jacket and vest conveyed the image of a politician, Darth Metus made no attempt to hide who and what he was from his peers. Transparency had been the foundation of the relationship forged between their nations. And thus, sulfuric eyes regarded each delegate with a genuine kindness. He offered polite nods and smiles to those who entered, raising his hand in greeting to the more familiar faces. However, it was not until most had arrived that the baritone of his voice filled the room.

Heralded by the clasping of his hands, the Vicelord commenced the Summit. "On behalf of the Confederacy, I want to thank you all for coming. Please, have your seats." He motioned towards the table before him and paused long enough for those present to settle accordingly. Time was precious. It was something that every individual who had made the voyage to Golbah City most likely thought they lacked. Those in positions of authority were so often pulled in hundreds of directions - and thus, Darth Metus strove not to waste an instant.

"There comes a time when bloodshed can no longer be ignored. I speak, of course, of those who the Coalition successfully repelled. Those who the Confederacy engaged on Eshan. And those who, most recently, assaulted Umbara. A nation built on a foundation of battle and brutality has set its sights upon the peace we tirelessly maintain. Therefore, we all have a choice to make. We can allow this threat to run rampant across our systems, wreaking havoc upon our worlds and people. Or. We can stand together and remedy this growing adversary."

"It is the desire of the Confederacy to answer the blood on Mandalorian hands. Delegates of the Silver Jedi Order, of the Outer Rim Coalition, and of the Core Imperial Confederation - what say you?"

It was only by the conclusion of his opening remarks that the Vicelord settled into his seat. Upon the moment that his form settled, a holo-projection erupted into being in the center of the room. Several scenarios began to unfold upon the projection, shifting from one to the next - Eshan to Umbara. All of the information the Confederacy had upon the brutality of the Mandalorian Empires was presented for their allies to witness. This was the blood they would seek to answer - now the floor was open for the great nations to respond.

Tag: [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Alden Akaran"], [member="Pom Stych Tivé"], [member="Luna Terrik"], [member="Derek Dib"], [member="Voph"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Madalena Antares"], [member="Veiere Arenais"], [member="Josh Dragonsflame"], [member="Jessica Med-Beq"], [member="John Locke"], [member="Aida Aquila"], [member="Gir Quee"], [member="Gianna Aegis"], [member="Peyton Steele"], [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Tanomas Graf"]

WolfMortum · Jun 16, 2019

Location: The Vanguard of Polaris [Golbah City - The Crown/Royal Sector].

Conference Room: Desert Rose [6th Floor].

"It's been some time, Master Jidai. I suppose you are no longer a king, are you?

Unless your wife's...ventures in the west have elevated your station beyond your previous rank".

Veiere was glad to have the opportunity to speak to Voph, though time wasn't particularly on their side, not nearly enough to discuss what they could have done otherwise. "It's been too long, [member="Voph"]" Veiere replied in greeting, bowing his head to the Miraluka; "Things have changed a great deal since we last met, as I'm aware you know. Unfortunately, not all of it for the best. That said, I'm with the Silver Jedi nowadays, and that is something I consider to be a great privilege" the Jedi Master smiled to his old acquaintance before turning to note movement nearest Voph's associates. "With luck, perhaps we shall speak further after the conference" Veiere nodded lightly, the suggested opportunity being something he would appreciate, were it possible following the subject of today's meeting.

Moving back towards his own people within the Order of the Silver Jedi, Veiere Arenais sought to take his seat upon the edge of the Silver Envoy, his companions seated upon his right side, whilst his attention looked across the conference table to that of [member="Darth Metus"]. The Sith Lord of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, their leader and a notable practitioner of the ways of the Sith. Infamous, alongside the likes of Darth Carnifex himself. Showing no effort in the want to hide the darkness that swelled around him.

Veiere listened, but for the time being he would speak none. His peers within the Order were accustomed to the controversy around the alliance between them and the Confederacy known to harbor members of the Sith, those whom offered no loyalty to the Empire or it's Dark Lord. Veiere however could not deny the difficulty of his position, and he silently questioned whether he were alone in that feeling of discomfort. His now estranged wife had often spoken of the way that politics could twist relationships around, to contrast what the perceived norm's were of the Galaxy, and one such philosophy that came to mind mentioned 'the enemy of my enemy...'.

The Jedi however did not look to people and think of them in such black and white ways, and even Veiere had worked alongside the Sith back during his reign over Commenor alongside Kay. He had always made it his intent to judge others based upon evidence and character, not the assumption or rumors passed upon the tongues of foreign advocates. Veiere had never come face to face with the Sith Lord, Metus, before now. His hope would be that this man would not fall victim to the same arrogance and corruption that drove the actions of Darth Carnifex, and the devastating degree of violence that so often accompanied the Sith Emperor.

"It is the desire of the Confederacy to answer the blood on Mandalorian hands".

The proposition of War with the United Clans of Mandalore....-After Eshan, this was to be expected of the Confederacy. First blood had been drawn and Veiere had known it was only a matter of time before the consequences would follow his niece for her actions and inability to keep her people under control. Kaine Australis himself had been present during the latest raid against the Green Jedi of the Corellian Confederation and the Order of the Silver Jedi where Veiere had moved to reinforce the world of H'ratth with a small portion of the Silver Fleet.

Situated upon the western regions of the Galaxy, the Jedi Master's fears were becoming reality. Kay Arenais and Yasha Cadera coming together, all the while tensions rising through out the political stage to bring the prospect of War back into the spotlight. Where there was War, the Jedi were always there. Veiere's presence during this conference only reinforced his concern that he and his wife were to be standing on opposing sides.

'Damn it Kay, I warned you this could happen...'.

John Locke · Jun 16, 2019

Location: The Vanguard of Polaris

Objective: ~~Offer Sword...don't have a sword dang.~~ Offer a ship!

Tagging:

ORC: [member="Atlas Drake"] | [member="Peyton Steele"]

John could see the shiver pass through his friend's body as she sat next to him, drawing something on his hand as they watched the rest of the delegates arrive, friends from all over the galaxy called by the lure of friendship and alliance...or the chance to attempt to put a sizeable dent in Darth Metus' Corellian Whiskey collection...which was proving to be a lot harder than he'd thought it would be. Still that was only a sideshow, hardly the true reason any of them were actually here. If the Confederacy had called them all over for a party that would have been one thing, though honestly he had always been a lot more comfortable in a smaller, more intimate setting, a dinner party with a few friends called over with the comfort and inside jokes that came with that. The kind of gathering that could last till 3 or 4 in the morning, hours filled with laughter and that relaxed camaraderie that was so lacking in this kind of environment. Still that didn't mean that you couldn't find a small moment within the gathering, a small smile curled up the corner of his lips as he closed his fingers around her hand lightly. "See, I think I've got a Gianna on my palm, did I guess right? Is there a prize?" Ok, it was a little cheesy and he felt a little like a 5 year old but a small captured moment of calm was worth that, besides, he'd been the one to ask the woman to join him here and though she seemed way more at easy than he was...what was up with that? Settling back in his chair John raised his glass, tipping it in Voph's direction, the amber liquid sloshing as it caught the light, as he nodded at his friend John let go of Gianna's hand, flexing his fingers under the table, his eyes resting on the glass as he returned it to the table. A sign of respect for a man who'd deserved it, but a little more than that too. In the reflection in the glass he'd been able to spot the picture she'd drawn on his hand, or at least some kind of pulled reflection. "Umm, is it a cat of some kind? Loth Cat?"

At least he knew what it looked like now...kinda. It was a start and he was grateful for the opportunity to focus his mind on something else, at least for a few minutes, not worrying about the pending discussions and where they would take them next. Still, he let his gaze flick up as Gianna questioned him, his iris' glowing a pale blue for a moment as he compared the two individuals she's pointed out with the records available to him. "The man, he's Atlas Drake, he's a captain with the Kathol republic. He actually made the news a few month ago, leading an exploration mission I think. I'm not sure who the woman with him is, though it looks like she's recording...so maybe an assistant." A mischievous smile spread over his face as he leaned back in his chair, raising his whiskey to his lips. "Or you know, she might be the one in charge, where better for a puppet master to stand than right there in plain sight. I mean," his eyes flicked over to Gianna, dark eyes sparkling, "I'm not even going to try to argue who's in charge here."

The relaxed observations couldn't last forever though, all too soon their host arrived, the atmosphere in the room changing. Where before it had been all about the various denizens relaxing and enjoying the networking everything took on a more formal atmosphere as he began talking. The reason for the conference becoming clear as the man made his pronouncement. The truth of it was John couldn't argue with a single thing Metus said, he'd seen the videos of the devastation left behind by the Mandalorian's in their wake. He'd seen it first hand on Eshan, their callous disregard for civilian life. "They recently attacked a Jedi temple...n not even that. The temple hadn't even been set up," the man's voice cut through the silence left behind as Darth Metus settled in his chair. "They deployed walkers and left devastation in their wake, for what? To destroy a place of refuge, of peace and healing. This wasn't a military target, this wasn't even a temple affiliated with the Silver Jedi. I've seen what lows they're willing to stoop to on Eshan, their callous disregard for life. I don't know that this is a neighbour anyone wants. a neighbour any of us can trust further than we could throw them...if even that far."

Kyyrk · Jun 16, 2019

LOCATION: The Desert Rose
WEARING: Armored Robes + Cloak
TAGS:

ORC: [member="Peyton Steele"] | [member="Atlas Drake"]

Voph nodded, noting that Metus was preparing to call the meeting to order. "I'm sure that can be arranged. I'll try and clear my schedule." Voph turned to depart, returning to his seat as the meeting was officially called. His head turned slightly towards [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] as she exited. Somehow he suspected she didn't intend to return. But, it was of no matter. Arguably one of the most important meetings in Voph's days among this new galaxy was about to come underway.

He took a seat in the midst of the Confederate diplomats, turning his head to focus on Metus as he spoke, a quiet still washing over him. As the holos sprang to life over the table, Voph turned to look at those around him. He did not need to see what the images showed. He had been there. He'd seen it first hand. Both now, and in the days before. Voph focused on Locke as he spoke, informing the group of another strike by the Mandalorians. A temple. Voph felt his stomach twist in a knot. Peace and Healing...

Voph bowed his head as a shiver ran down his spine. For a moment, his mind wandered to what could have been. Rubble strewn about the ground, bodies littering the space. And among them all, the twisted corpse of... Voph forced himself back to reality. He could not think of such a thing at a time like this. He couldn't always be there to protect her. And she was not his responsibility. Was she? Voph let the silence of Locke's words hang for a moment, then began to speak himself. "For all their bluster of being an honorable people, I have never seen the Mandalorians present any such ideals. Their...code, their Resol'nare, does not account for honor. That, my friends, is determined by the one they look to. Their Mand'alor."

"In the time when I was young, the great and terrible Mandalorian War was still fresh on our minds. A war with great cost, won only by the designs of a young general who destroyed a planet, and wounded the very fabric of the Force itself. After that...The Mandalorians scattered. Clans fractured into nothing, many of the Mandalorians became mercenaries. Only once the galactic stage was set for War did they unify again."

Voph paused for a moment to allow the other delegates to digest his words. "In all the wars I faced, all the trials I overcame..." Voph raised a single finger to point at the holoimages above the table as he looked around. "Nothing draws concern as this does. That expanse of space known as the Empire. The Mandalorians only gather to one Mand'alor in two times. Those of Trial, and those of Conquest. The very existence of a Mand'alor should be cause for concern. And though I wish nothing but peace in our time, it is our duty, as leaders, and more importantly, protectors of the free worlds, to put an end to this threat."

Voph fell silent again, allowing another moment to understand his speech. "Given that the Mandalorians, to my knowledge, suffer no notable hardships, I am left with but one assumption. Yasha Cadera means to initiate a conquest of the free worlds, to allow her people the chance to maraud for sport." Voph's gaze lingered on [member="Veiere Arenais"] for a moment as he continued. "Whatever your qualms against the realms of War, I assure you, I understand them, and support them, even if I do not agree with them. But left unchecked...this..." Voph gestured to the holoimages above the table again with an open palm. "Will become the new face of the galaxy. Untold death and destruction at the hands of these dogs. Take what action you will. But I, and a guardian of peace and prosperity, shall not sit idle while worlds burn for Mandalorian crusade."

Srina Talon · Jun 17, 2019

First comes the day

Then comes the night.

After the darkness

Shines through the light.

Silver eyes swept over the Sith Lord whom she always found, somehow, that she needed. Once upon a time she had resolved to be the whisper of a conscience in the back of a mind that had suffered through lengthy torment. His being was twisted, though powerful, while his duties as the Vicelord broke him among the altar of caretaking his people. She had been the ice to his flame—The winter to his hellfire. They were hard on the senses, this much she knew, as an old friend by the name of Stephanie Swail had once explained. Snowfall in the hottest days of summer, a moon and sun hanging low in the same dark sky—Demons wearing white while holding picnic baskets of death and good fortune.

She caught sight of her reflection in the transparisteel. That wasn’t all she saw. [member="Derek Dib"] had arrived. Since the last meeting of the Viceroyalty the Viceroy of the Siskeen had scarcely been heard from. She understood on a basic level why that was, and yet, she did not. Srina was a practical creature and returned the barren smile that the dark-haired man had given. She felt as if she could feel his thoughts. Concerns.

“High Councilor.”, she whispered, cold, whilst her words carried through the mingling voices with ease to circle around his ear canal. Srina did not have many whom she held a close kinship with. The Miralukan was one of the few that she tended to call on, more than once, when she needed to do something with a significant level of difficulty. From braving the ever-burning underworld of Coruscant to blowing Dreadnoughts out of the sky—[member="Voph"] was suitable.

Srina knew that security would be formidable during this gathering but she hadn’t realized that she would be assigned her own unit. [member="Darth Metus"] was…Fearsome. His Exarch, nay, his Apprentice still seemed to have some of the Viceroyalty that she had not yet returned to full functionality. Rather than to lash out against the Dauntless [[member="Luna Terrik"]] that had arrived to keep a blade from plunging into her back, she inclined her head in greeting, respectful, touched with grace. “Thank you, Commander Terrik.”

“There are still some leaders that have fallen behind in the timetable. I expect that some will arrive when the summit is well underway. When they appear, despite the lateness of the hour, they must still observe all protocol.”

The arrival of members of the Silver Assembly was an expected, however, welcome sight. It was proof in an undeniable fashion that the ties between the Confederacy and the Silver Jedi remained unwavering. There were many eyes upon them, with many tongues wagging, and twice as many critics. Foreign powers accused their allies of being little more than sub-factions to their nation, simply, because they were able to overlook their differences and find common ground.

Her chilled focus slipped through them before moving over those that filtered in from the Outer Rim. She knew the names of those in attendance, mostly, because she would have been remiss not to—And others, because for whatever reason, she knew them from prior engagements. [member="John Locke"], for example, or even [member="Atlas Drake"]. She had first met him while once again greeting her devil-may-care Judge [member="Dax Fyre"], though, that had been quite some time ago. Perhaps he had forgotten.

Her perusal was interrupted, briefly, by the arrival of yet another one of her own. Silver eyes flickered. He had chiseled features, a strong jaw, and a reputation that was growing. “High Marshal.”, she intoned, again, inclining her swanlike neck just enough. [member="Alden Akaran"] had a good head on his shoulders and when he extended a hand she shook it gently, though, the action was rather foreign to her. “Your presence is appreciated.”

[member="Alkor Centaris"] was a presence that she could never miss. She did not need to see him to know he was there. The young woman had torn into him, both mentally, and physically when he defected to the Confederacy. Since Eshan…He had proven himself. So much so, that he had risen rapidly, and now claimed the title of Knight Commander along with [member="Madalena Antares"]. The two warriors were present not only to defend, but to keep the peace, and ensure that every representative left with the same number of body parts they had arrived with.

Srina nodded at the more feminine of the two Knight Commanders and knew that they would follow orders. In this room—With diligence, and care. These were allies of the Confederacy. Not, enemies.

[member="Darth Metus"] moved. Srina, moved. Their actions were entirely in sync, almost, like gravity or some undetectable magnets that were buried beneath their skin. The bond between Master and Apprentice was strong enough that she didn’t need to hear him speak to know where he stood. He was gentle toward their allies. Almost kind, because in the end, they had maintained this delicate balance since the time of the Galactic Alliance. It wasn’t just words on paper. It was…Everything. They were the reason the Confederacy had assembled. They were the reason for phantom drum beats that only seemed to be getting louder, and louder.

As the Vicelord stood throughout his speech—So did she. He didn’t require an introduction, obviously, and Srina didn’t care for titles in the first place. It was a necessity to ensure that the long arm of her Master’s law was carried out, regardless, if they were systems apart. Nothing more, nothing less. When [member="Darth Metus"] took his seat at the head of the table, she remained standing, and instead allowed a slender hand to rest on his shoulder. Always, she stood by his choices.

The holo-projector leapt into being. Images assaulted them. Carnage. Eshan…Eshan crushed her heart, what was left of it, and caused the darkness in her being to move. Silver eyes momentarily bled to a burnished gold while thoughts of her Queen, [member="Spencer Jacobs"], just barely kept a sneer from crossing her porcelain features. Somehow—She remained impassive. Quiet, observant. For their allies here today, for her Queen, her people, she could only be seen as perfect. Untouched, unbroken.

“These images are shocking. They will burn you. They should, burn you. Yet…It is the truth.”, she spoke aloud, slowly, while her gaze remained firmly on the projections. She didn’t look away from it for several reasons. Respect, among them. “Consider what this position will mean for you. Not only the immediate impact—But what ferocity may inevitably follow. Whether it comes in the form of repercussions from war itself, or, the price to be paid for potential inaction…There will most assuredly be a cost that we are all intimately familiar with.”

She fell silent after that, letting others weigh in, so as not to control the narrative anymore than they already had. It was the desire of the Confederacy that their allies leave this meeting with open eyes. There was no advantage, strategically, for the CIS to attack the Clans of Mandalore. They had simply been pushed, with ever act of violence against their allies, and now, finally, they had been pressed too far.

It was time to push back.

To her surprise, it was a representative of the Silvers, who brought yet another incident to light. Srina frowned. Was this what the Clans intended to do? Voph spoke, bringing up her silent fears, though ultimately, they could not fully substantiate the claim. Much of it was speculation. The Exarch did not dream in wishes or wants, moreover, she favored empirical data. All that being said…They didn’t need to rattle the shelves to find more ghosts in the closet. Proof enough, damning proof, had been experienced by most of the people beneath this roof.

“What we will do…It will not be for the faint of heart. Our response must come soon so that we may draw a line, uncontested, in the sand. Some of you may not agree. Some of you may have personal stakes that will sway your decisions…”, she trailed off, seemingly gently, while mercurial eyes fell pointedly on [member="Veiere Arenais"]. She did not pretend to know everything, however, their Ministry of Secrets made it their job to know where the ebb and flow of power rose and fell. The former King of Commenor could not stay off their radar. Not when decisions like this were on the table. “No one would think ill of you if you chose recuse yourself, Master Arenais, for the duration of this excursion.”

“I do not intend to suggest anything untoward of your loyalty. Nor do I wish to place you on the spot…But there is a bantha in the room. A husband fighting his wife…”, she glanced down at her Master, briefly, letting her mind brush his. She found agreement. “We’ll not ask that of you.”

Despite the frigid nature of her demeanor, her words held a sense of understanding, perhaps lent to the Sithling after watching images of her homeworld being destroyed. Srina was quite clearly giving the Jedi an out if he chose it. Not to mention the fact that the Confederacy intended to win. They would be remiss not to know what side their allies stood on. Some would argue that there weren’t actually sides to pick from, but those who spoke of it, had not walked the streets of Eshan or Umbara as of late.

There was a side. It was time to choose.

WolfMortum · Jun 17, 2019

Location: The Vanguard of Polaris [Golbah City - The Crown/Royal Sector].

Conference Room: Desert Rose [6th Floor].

From [member="Voph"], looking to Veiere whilst speaking of suspected qualms, to [member="Srina Talon"] whom spoke directly to him before the eyes and ears of those present; Veiere's gaze shifted under the weight of her truths let loose in volume for their peers to consider. There were no two ways about it, [member="Kay Arenais"] remained in support of the United Clans of Mandalore whom were responsible for the recent acts of atrocious violence, several times over. But rather than judge or criticize Veiere for his family's connections, a known associate and follower of the Sith was offering him a way out of an otherwise terrible situation that the Jedi Master found himself in. Consideration in the face of a formal declaration of war. Despite Veiere's response, it was an offer that he could appreciate.

"I thank you for your consideration, Lady Talon" Veiere dipped his head in a show of appreciation, though continued still; "However, the situation before us all is much larger than my personal struggles and no one can be exempt from the law, where such unnecessary violence has been forced upon our two Nations with no prior provocation" Veiere spoke as formally as was necessary, wishing not to delve into his own bereavements, no matter how difficult a position Kay had put him in. Veiere wasn't only a member of the Silver Jedi Order, but he was also appointed a seat on the Council of the Jedi Alliance, a coalition of organizations that fall under the umbrella title, a representative of the Jedi across the Galaxy. Though it would be heart breaking to confront her in battle, Veiere had no choice in the matter but to risk the chance for the sake of the greater good.

"As a Jedi Master...-Imperfect as I may be, I've sworn an oath and dedicated my life to putting the needs of the Galaxy before my own" His gaze shifted briefly across to that of [member="Darth Metus"], the figurehead of the Confederacy and silently wondered whether the Sith Lord would understand the weight of such a position for a Jedi to be placed. "It is with regret that I am inclined to agree with what's been spoken thus far. A Mandalore who cannot restrain her people and keep these raids from spilling the blood of innocent, cannot be allowed to continue to let such cruelty, go unpunished".

Veiere's attention returned to Voph, then looked to Srina Talon, offering his concluding words; "For the crimes committed against the Confederacy, as well as the world's under the Order of the Silver Jedi, I will be there to see the guilty are brought to justice and the Galaxy see that there will always be consequences for such disregard for sentient life".

Scherezade deWinter · Jun 17, 2019

ORC: [member="Peyton Steele"] | [member="Atlas Drake"]

Wearing

Business Dress

Wielding
Four Czerka knives [concealed]

Her confident smile nearly wavered as the first person she stumbled into was no other than Exarch [member="Srina Talon"]. Yet, it was not the mere meeting of the woman that had almost broken the confident smile worn on the Blood Hound's face, but the feeling she got from her. While her inner monologue was not one that the Blood Hound could actually hear, there was something about the white haired woman that felt… Off. She had met the Exarch on more than enough occasions – many of them, she wished she had not met her at, at all. Yet whether those meetings had been good or bad, Srina Talon had always felt the same to her. Now… Not so much. There was something stirring beneath the crystalline exterior, and while blood was not part of it, it felt oddly familiar to Scherezade. Had she felt it before? She wasn't entirely sure.

You do not entirely feel like yourself today, Exarch, she remarked, keeping polite protocol, sending the message through the Force to ensure privacy was kept. This was nobody else's business. I think… I believe… Would you be willing to meet with me after this is all concluded? Perhaps there is something I can do to help. It… No, it wasn't much in the way of olive branches or hand extending. Scherezade didn't quite know how to do that. But it was an attempt. Whether it would be accepted or not, was not in her hands to say. All she could hope for was the best, that it would not end up being something the Exarch would try to make her regret.

Next came [member="Voph"]. He greeted her, and received a respectful nod of the head back. [member="Derek Dib"] was after him, and Scherezade recognized him as one of the Viceroys. There had also been the evening where Madalena had nearly punched his face in when she was in Scherezade's body, but as Scherezade had not been there, she herself had no recollection of that. [member="Luna Terrik"] came after that, and Scherezade knew that this meant she was here for security. The two had worked together in guarding the Vicelord and the Exarchs during a similar meeting with the Core Confederation, though Scherezade had been using Madalena's name at the time. The entire thing was… Almost laughable, how all these knowing of various people became so complicated because of how the situation was at the time of meeting. Scherezade couldn't help but wonder whether it would all just normalize someday. Not for the others; as far as she knew, no one bat an eyelash or gave a second thought to any of it. But inside her own head.

And now it was the turn of the Silvers. While they had never met, Scherezade knew who [member="Veiere Arenais"] was. It was literally her job to know. Not for the man himself; but for his wife. She could already tell that the day might get potentially over complicated. And while there was no doubt in her mind as to the things his wife deserved for her involvement in various atrocities, she could not help but wonder – why was he there? Her heart had only ever loved one person, and perhaps it was selfish of her, but she knew that there would be almost nothing that the person would've been able to do that would cause her to attend a summit that would include things, plans, and words, against them. Jedi, as far as she knew, presented themselves as above those things. But were they? There was no denying that he was an organic and not a droid. Would his heart be able to handle the planning of his wife's downfall, or had it become a stone against his wife? Or perhaps, she was simply assuming. Perhaps it had never beat for that woman anyway.

The blonde woman that came with him - [member="Aida Aquila"] – she did not know, though there was no denying of the power that radiated off her. It was almost a shame that the summit would be a diplomatic one and not a last man left standing one.

Looking at [member="Pom Stych Tivé"], Scherezade did not openly chuckle. There had been a time, not too long ago, that she would have been verbally beheaded for speaking like that at such a gathering. She hoped for the woman that her fate would be different. More nods came then, to [member="John Locke"], to Gianna Aegis, to [member="Jessica Med-Beq"], to [member="Gir Quee"]. Scherezade was starting to get tired of all the nodding, and dared sneak a peek to others who had arrived roughly at the same time as her. It seemed as though they… Did not do the nodding thing. So perhaps she was being too friendly? Weird? Out of place? She would've stopped if it wasn't for [member="Josh Dragonsflame"] who then walked in, drawing a genuinely warm smile form the Sithling's face. Look at us, going to summits together like allies or something weirdly grown up like that, she laughed directly into his mind. She was fully expecting hugs and more smiles later, after this was finished.

And then came the interesting part. The people from the Outer Rim Coalition. Scherezade knew… Very little about them. Their territory and handlings were not under her responsibilities with the Ministry of Secrets, and the one time she was on their territory, [member="Dax Fyre"] had tried to arrest her for a crime he knew she had not committed. Now, she looked at [member="Atlas Drake"] and [member="Peyton Steele"], noting as the latter spoke about her knives. To those two, Scherezade flashed a smile; not a warm one, or a genuine one, but one that looked almost wolfish – the smile of a predator. If they or anyone else in the room ever chose to be enemies of the Confederacy, her knives would be the least of their problems.

Last of the Confederates to enter was a man Scherezade knew by now - [member="Alden Akaran"], whom she had saved not too long ago and then had non-alcoholic drinks with shortly after that, and shortly after him, [member="Alkor Centaris"] and her own sister, [member="Madalena Antares"]. By their attire, Scherezade knew they were both here to work. Two Knight Commanders as well as the Dauntless leader? How much danger did the Confederacy think they were potentially in? Each and every Confederate in the room was deadly without weapons as it were; they also outnumbered the other governments that had deemed to join.

Conversations soon enough began to flow in the room, and Scherezade accepted a drink from the droids – a tall glass filled with ice water, ice cubes, and a metallic straw. There was even an umbrella in it, to make it look slightly fancy.

And at last, [member="Darth Metus"] arrived. The very man she herself had nearly killed a year ago; finding the weak spot in his armor, getting the blade between the third and fourth rib. She'd very well near succeeded, and would have, had others not interfered. It had been a wrong move. She had not even known who he was at the time, only that he wore the infamous Mandalorian Tuna Can, and that had been enough to set the memories off that had been burned onto her mind, memories of a woman who had lived nearly a thousand years ago and had a blood feud with all the clans, a feud that had been inherited from grandmother to mother to daughter.

At last, Scherezade took her own seat, joining the part of the table that was full of her peers. It took more of her self control that she wanted to admit to not snicker there as blame of bloodshed was put onto the Mandalorian Empire. She had been on Umbara, though she had made it off the planet before the super serious mess started. Her body had been on Eshan, and the memories of what it had experienced and seen burned into her mind as well once she returned to her body. Though where her Vicelord saw their power growing, Scherezade was not all too certain she agreed. However, that was of no matter. The racism in her blood towards the Mandalorians ran rampart and wild, and she did not need an actual excuse to agree to go to war with them. All she needed was permission.

She did not need to see what the holoprojector showed. Most of the knowledge was already inside her mind. Instead, she turned in her chair ever so slightly, her glowing green eyes falling on the crowd to see their reaction. Listening to the words of [member="John Locke"], knowing she'd heard something about those attacks, yet had been wrapped up in a mission on the other edge of the galaxy, which had kept her from being able to come in guns blazing to help them out.

[member="Voph"] and [member="Srina Talon"] spoke next, and Scherezade remained silent. She knew what her own words would be. She simply needed the correct timing for them. And that moment came soon enough, once the need for a choice was voiced.

"There is more," she said, her voice sounding deep and rich. Not the voice of the child some in the room had known her as – but a woman, a battle veteran, one experienced enough to have seen things that would make grown men wet their pants. There was softness in Scherezade, softness and squishy parts – yet none of them was in display in that moment, all tucked away. It was the Warrior, the Pathfinder, and the Crow within her that spoke, the Blood Hound, sniffing out the danger, alerting those around her of it.

"We have all seen battles. We have all feared that each fight could make us either a casualty of war, or a prisoner of one. But now they have something that is worse. The Mandalorians have constructed battle machinery that uses life – sentient life – as batteries. They will not shy from using it against the people of your worlds. The Mandalorians do not believe in civilians, or protecting the elderly and the children. They, too, can be hooked up to these machines, their lives used as a source of energy.

And this, in addition to the fact that the Mandalorians have given up Dathomir, giving it to the Sith Empire. All the ships around the Dathomiri systems now belong to the Sith, and the Dathomiri Witches presented as little more than human flesh given as gifts, their promised autonomy utterly ignored and stampeded upon. In exchange for what? I do not have the answers yet, but I am certain we can all make educated guesses."

Scherezade paused, scanning the crowd. With a smooth motion, she rose from her seat.

"We are all gathered here today," she resumed, "Jedi. Sith. Darksiders. Lightsiders. Non-Forcers. Those who represent their Governments, their Empires, their Orders. We have known peace, and we have known wars. We have fought each other, and we have fought alongside each other. But now comes the time – the time in which we must band together and set our worries aside, and remove this stain from our Galaxy. Shatter the Mandalorian Empire to pieces, starting with their leaders, whose choices are now at fault for what we must all face today. For what our children might have to face tomorrow if we sleep on our guard.

So if you are considering to stand on the side that will remain silent… I ask that you go home, and look your loved ones in the eye, and come up with reasons and excuses as to why you stood by and remained silent as such atrocities were committed all over the galaxy. Come up with reasons and excuses as to why your loved ones are living on borrowed time, before the Mandalorians come for them. Come up with reasons and excuses as to why you knew, and chose to do nothing.

The Confederacy is giving you all the choices that you can make. Fight with us, or do not. But remember that there are times in which the only right choice is the hardest one to make. Sometimes, to ensure that life exists tomorrow, we must end certain lives today. We will stand by our Vicelord and fight!"

Jessica Med-Beq · Jun 17, 2019

Location: The Vanguard of Polaris
Conference Room: Desert Rose (6th floor)
Tags: SJO: [member="Josh Dragonsflame"] [member="Veiere Arenais"] [member="John Locke"] [member="Gir Quee"] [member="Aida Aquila"] [member="Gianna Aegis"]
CIS: [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Darth Metus"] [member="Voph"] [member="Scherezade deWinter"] [member="Luna Terrik"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Alden Akaran"] [member="Madalena Antares"] [member="Derek Dib"]
ORC: [member="Peyton Steele"] [member="Atlas Drake"]

The CIC delegates were nowhere to be found, but perhaps they were just late, and very much so. However, the Mando atrocities were well-known to her, on Eshan, and even smaller ad-hoc rogue groups attacking planets on the SJ's northeast. Yes, the Mandos posed a threat and she was well-placed to know about how threatening they are. However, just because the attacks on Umbara and H'ratth may as well have been the work of rogue elements, it showed how easy it was for Mandos to go rogue. On the other hand, while the Sith can be brutal on the offense, they don't seem to take the same approach, and some that fought them, herself included, found their tunnel vision to be, if not necessarily easy to exploit as a weakness, at least something that carries tactical consequences. Mandos are dangerous not just because they are brutal, but also because they aren't overly tunnel-visioned tactically. A different tone at the top of the chain of command. Now, she had some idea of what tensions are running between the CIS and the Mandos, or the SJO and the Mandos, but the ORC and CIC, to the best of her knowledge, had less involvement in Mando affairs.

"I understand the need to take action against the Mandos, but let's not forget which allies they have left: the Sith. Even though they, like Mandos, aren't beyond resorting to scorched-earth strategies as was the case on Eshan, in battle, many among the Sith leadership, especially those that take the field, seem to be tunnel-visioned into dueling. Even then, any action we take would need to consider the possiblity of being dragged into fighting the Sith as well. With both factions, they won't bat an eye at causing collateral damage so going on the offensive is going to be tricky"

Tanomas Graf · Jun 18, 2019

High Chancellor Tanomas Graf

Equipment: Suit w/ Trench Coat - Phrik-Armourweave Shockpadding (concealed)

Location: The Vanguard - Golbah City, Geonosis

It was quite a strange set of circumstances that permitted Tanomas Graf to be at the capital of one of his most ferocious enemies. It was equally peculiar that his successor state found itself in a quadripartite pact with two other powers that had previously fought against the very ideology he swore to uphold. Who would've guessed that the child of the Galactic Empire and the First Order would be allied with the pseudo-government of the Kathol Outback, a Confederacy of Independent Systems, and a revitalized Silver Jedi Order? Nevertheless, this was exactly the sort of practical politics that he himself yearned for: If they could forgive him for his actions in the past, then he could avoid being a stereotypical Imperial leader by idiotically calling for their destruction in order to 'cleanse the galaxy of their rabble'.

Blah blah blah rebel scum!

It had been done a hundred times before by a hundred different leaders both young and old, and it got them nowhere. If any progress was to be made in the galaxy, then principle differences would have to be put aside for the time being until the climate was once again stable enough for them to be able to go for each other's throats. The irony was not lost on Graf when he realized the moment his mindset changed - when his lifespan was extended by a few centuries, meaning he'd actually have to deal with the consequences of his actions instead of just shrugging off being called a war criminal for razing a city (there was a dark force entity, it was totally justified).

Of course, no matter his age or his current affiliations, being late was something he found to be absolutely intolerable, doubly so if it was him. Which is why he was in such a foul mood when he stepped off of the shuttlecraft and into the clutches of Golbah City, hastily walking towards the Vanguard with all of the speed his augmented physique could offer the older man, his trench coat whipping about; trailed by a younger minister and two aides, the Imperial entourage made its way into the hotel. After protocol had been satiated and security checks were confirmed, it was finally showtime for the fledgeling nation.

--------------------

"-to ensure that life exists tomorrow, we must end certain lives today. We will stand by our Vicelord and fight!"

Tanomas entered the conference room at the tail end of a speech by a woman he recognized but for the life of him could not remember; followed by a comment by another, his eyes quickly darting among the gathered faces before he opened his mouth to address them quickly. "As it stands, the Mandalorians and their benefactors in the Sith Empire have recently secured further ties in the form of a fully-fledged military alliance. Conflict with the Sith is as inevitable as the sun rising if you are to proceed with the Clan's judgement - a galactic war is on the horizon once more." He boomed in his heavily-accented voice, manoeuvring around the table to find the empty spots reserved for the Imperial diplomats, "Apologies for my lack of punctuality, Lord Metus, but an incident at Jerrilek involving the topic of this summit necessitated a small detour."

A small smirk caused the corner of his lips to curl inwards as he set himself down in the rather comfortable sea, steepling his fingers over his lap before he continued. "It goes to show the gravity of this situation when our arguably-authoritarian government agrees to partake in a conference condemning the actions of another galactic power." The chancellor stated, his smirk disappearing, "Our previous alliance with the Sith has been dissolved as of earlier today, and despite the actions of my faction and its predecessors, the Galactic Empire and the First Order:

The Imperial Confederation will do what is necessary by helping to bring down this crusading scourge."

CIS: [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Voph"], [member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Luna Terrik"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Alden Akaran"], [member="Madalena Antares"], [member="Derek Dib"]
SJO: [member="John Locke"], [member="Veiere Arenais"], [member="Gir Quee"], [member="Josh Dragonsflame"], [member="Aida Aquila"], [member="Gianna Aegis"], [member="Jessica Med-Beq"]
ORC: [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Peyton Steele"]

Josh Dragovalor · Jun 18, 2019

Tagging:

ORC: [member="Atlas Drake"] | [member="Peyton Steele"]

Their host had arrived.

The mood of the room changed when Darth Metus would walk in. It was still... Strange to him, to be working with Sith. But the CIS were... Unique, to say the least. They were Sith here yes, yet while they practiced the tenants, most of them did not appear to be fans of the behavior of most of their kind. The kind that Josh had fought for years were destructive manipulators that only wished for power through fear and pain. The CIS Sith... He could see the desire for power there, that much hadn't changed. But their methods, their means, the way they wanted to attain it was far different from what he had imagined those that practiced the Sith ways could ever be like. They saw threats to the galaxy, real genuine threats and wanted them gone. Not because they were some kind of rebellion that was doing what was right even if it went against the ways of the CIS, no. If they were, they wouldn't be in this room right now. No, the CIS was against those such as the Mandalorians... Who even the Silver Jedi Order could admit had stepped into the wings of full blown terrorism without any sort of reproach.

And it was that threat that he knew Metus was here to speak about.

Josh watched the recordings play, and they were undeniable. Then [member="John Locke"] would speak, bringing their attack on a place of healing, not even a military topic, into the fold. [member="Voph"] would bring insight when it came to them acting against what they preached. And what they could potentially become. [member="Srina Talon"] spoke next, bringing up the involvement of Veiere's wife... And a woman that Josh had been close with for a long time. To know that Kay was involved in all of this disturbed him, but he did not speak just yet. Instead, bright brown eyes were glued to the projector. He heard Veiere say that while he had his struggles... Protecting people from those like the Mandalorians was the most important thing.

And he was right.

He was surprised to hear his friend [member="Scherezade deWinter"] make a speech. That was interesting. She never seemed the type. Perhaps she had begun to grow up after all...

"We have all seen battles. We have all feared that each fight could make us either a casualty of war, or a prisoner of one. But now they have something that is worse. The Mandalorians have constructed battle machinery that uses life – sentient life – as batteries. They will not shy from using it against the people of your worlds. The Mandalorians do not believe in civilians, or protecting the elderly and the children. They, too, can be hooked up to these machines, their lives used as a source of energy.

And this, in addition to the fact that the Mandalorians have given up Dathomir, giving it to the Sith Empire. All the ships around the Dathomiri systems now belong to the Sith, and the Dathomiri Witches presented as little more than human flesh given as gifts, their promised autonomy utterly ignored and stampeded upon. In exchange for what? I do not have the answers yet, but I am certain we can all make educated guesses."

That was not something he'd known about. He knew about the alliance... But all of this? Using life to fuel their machines? Giving up Dathomir to the Sith Empire, and their residents as well? He'd once had friends within the Witches of Dathomir... To know they were being used as such, it was horrifying.

Jessica spoke next, and noted that they would be dragged into fighting the Sith as well, if they did this.

Graf from the Imperials agreed, as well as noting they had dissolved their prior alliance with the Sith.

Which meant that now was the time. Veiere had shown interest in joining this fight, but as [member="Aida Aquila"] had chosen to remain silent... For the Silver Jedi, there remained only one person that could truly make that decision in this room right now. That realization hit the Jedi Master like a freight train. As part of the Senior Assembly, and the highest ranking member of the Silver Jedi Order in this room sans Aquila... The involvement of the Order now rested on him. His eyes darted to Aida first. He knew what he wanted to do, he'd made his decision. His eyes reflected that and he would look first to her, then to [member="John Locke"] as though acknowledging what was needed -- and wanting their input. If they wanted to hold off and wait to make a decision later, this was the time to say it.

Once he had gleaned their plans, he gave each -- and then Veiere -- a respectful nod before the Jedi Master would let out one final exhale. He knew that eyes would follow him as he stood to his feet and cleared his throat. He knew that the pressure, that the final resounding horn of their involvement hinged on what he was about to say... It was all on him. And he knew that the others in the room knew this as well. This was it, he thought. A decision he didn't want to make, but one he knew needed to be made.

"The Silver Jedi Order has historically gone out of our way to bring peace to the Galaxy without resorting to enacting all-out warfare. War is a cruel mistress, it takes, and it takes, and it takes... It's taken more people out of my life than I would like" He admitted as he allowed his voice to boom around the room. "But our mission, our goal... We want to protect life. We want to protect people, to be the swords and the shields of those that need us.

... And the Mandalorians have forced us to accept that they are a serious threat to those people.

In the interests of being open and honest with you all as well, is that as much as I don't like to say this... I have a personal stake in this conflict as well. The truth of the matter is that my mother was Mandalorian. At a young age, she sought out and was accepted into a clan of her own, and decided that to hone her skills in honorable combat, and in her eyes bring that honor to her clan... She sought out to protect people, to protect life. She spent her life doing just that, and she died fighting... Died fighting honorably as a Mandalorian. She was buried on Mandalore, a warrior... A fighter... A true Mandalorian. She is everything that I aspire to be.

But she was born on Eshan."

He let that sink in a moment.

"Since her time past, the Mandalorian Clans have committed acts of terrorism far and wide. They have raided worlds, our space included, including an incident where for no reason whatsoever, they destroyed a civilian space station... Taking hundreds of lives from what wasn't even a military target. It wasn't even in their way... They took lives because they wanted to. There is no honor in that. No adherence to their own codes... And they have continued to do so. They have shamed the name of the Mandalorians that came before them, my mother included. Even laying waste to the world she was born on, for no reason other than sadistic destruction out of their own bloodlust.

And let's be honest here... It has been the worst kept secret how close these groups have kept with almost every sect of Sith, every "Sith Empire" that have sought out to cause pain and suffering throughout the years. Their now-public alliance is not something that has caught anyone by surprise... Instead, all it has done is show all the more that they do not regret what they have done... Nor what they intend to do. They are a threat to every walk of life in this galaxy, even of their own. The Mandalorians they claim to be, and what many have tried to be... The Mandalorian Empire is not of them. There is no excuses, nothing they can hide behind anymore... They are terrorists that now serve under the thumb of even bigger terrorists, there is no ifs or buts about it. Their desire is only to destroy life... The life that all of us here want to protect. Whether you may be Jedi, or those that practice the unique Sith tenants of the CIS... Or walk another path of your own, I would like to hope that you all feel the same way.

Attacking civilian, non-military establishments... Raiding worlds... Using human life to fuel their machines, handing people as flesh offerings to the Sith Empire... This is something that the Silver Jedi Order can no longer ignore."

One more exhale, one more moment... And then it came.

"The Silver Jedi Order stands with the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Whether that is against the Mandalorian Empire, or the inevitable intervention of the Sith Empire... We will fight to protect those we have sworn an oath to protect. No matter what it takes."

Atlas Drake · Jun 18, 2019

Away Mission - The Vanguard of Polaris

Captain Atlas Drake, Commanding

Mission Objective: Represent Outer Rim Coalition

Persons of Interest: [member="Peyton Steele"], [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Srina Talon"]

[member="Scherezade deWinter"], [member="Veiere Arenais"], [member="John Locke"], [member="Tanomas Graf"], et al.

"Cry pardon, I'm just a messenger," Atlas could feel the tension shift uncomfortably towards them. The Coalition representatives were the only ones who had so far remained silent, "The Coalition sent me here to pledge what support we can, but we're not built to wage the kind of war you're after."

"Judges are keepers of the peace," Sheriff Omegon added, his hulking droid form not fitting in a conference chair. Instead he stood behind the captain's shoulder, "Not soldiers."

"We've only ever known our independence, Lady deWinter," General Dukat of Uukaablis bowed his head in a sign of respect, "You'll forgive us if we're loathe to break with tradition. Leave the Core to the Core, my ancestors would have told me. Still, I'm familiar with several Echoylir captains who have more than a passing interest in Mandalorian politics, and there is the matter of Utapau."

"We owe the Scions of Ra a blood debt for their insult."

It was unsettling to hear words of passion coming from what looked for all intents and purposes like a war droid.

"As you can see, I can give you no single answer," Atlas shrugged helplessly, "Some will help. Many, I hope. Some will not. That has always been our way, we are freefolk. But perhaps we can provide you with another kind of aid."

Captain Drake glanced over at Peyton to see if she wanted to add anything. She was the Underground's representative after all. They maintained close ties with the Migrant Fleet and many exiles were now either a part of their resistance or on its payroll. No one was better positioned to infiltrate Mandalorian space and gather valuable strategic data.

Peyton Steele · Jun 18, 2019

Stepping up besides the Admiral, Peyton watched the Jedi Master who accompanied her. The blonde remained behind, more apt to let the others who had more clout than some second rate agent. Truth was, she never told anyone what her position was, and following the war time promotion during the Endgame? Things remained very similar. Still, her Jedi companion was one that she had found within the Confederacy Space. There were still bridges between the groups. She bit her let as he began to speak.

“What we have is a group looking to change the galaxy. I can speak for some, that we will be there to assist with worlds, but the groups I can represent, we will be there, to stand as defense, to provide the refugees with safe passage. Our capacity since we stood in the Core are more on moving people to and from places, and providing the extra set of hands.” As he stepped backwards the blonde stepped forward.

Not announcing her name, she wanted to put her two cents in. “The Coalition also has a number of spacers and… well, scoundrels. We can ensure the transportation of data as well. Information from Clans that may not favor their leader. Infiltration into certain areas, but again, it is a role we take up so long as our cover is not harmed. A free people, we’re… particular in what we do, but we know this needs to be addressed.”

She looked at Atlas with a cautious look as she took a step backwards.

[member="Atlas Drake"]
[member="Srina Talon"]
[member="Josh Dragonsflame"]
[member="Darth Metus"]
[member="John Locke"]
[member="Tanomas Graf"]

Aida Aquila · Jun 19, 2019

Aida stood quietly, her breezy presence content to listen for a time. The Jedi traveler had been to many worlds, she had brought a helping hand where ever she went. She had seen conflicts resolved, she'd seen them break out as well. The galaxy was an ever-changing place, always shifting. However, she had generally left the Mandalorians to their own devices – theirs was a clan structure that she understood on the surface, but she was unsure if she would ever understand their ways.

She loathed sensesless violence, she disliked war.

It cast quite a gray cloud upon her that they were here to discuss such things. But she realized that it must be done. Aida's heart felt quite heavy to know that this war effort would add to the bloodshed. However, she had returned to the Order for a reason – she felt her presence was needed. And she recognized quite easily that their worlds needed to be safe from such threats, even if it meant rising to meet them head-on. And she put her personal feelings aside for the greater good.

“Indeed,” She added, following [member="Josh Dragonsflame"]'s explanation. “We shall stand with you.”

It seemed that her fellow Assembly member was comfortable upon a soapbox, a thought that made her smile softly in his direction. Her blue gaze also found [member="John Locke"] and [member="Veiere Arenais"], offering each of them something of a solemn nod.

As the talks continued, she would fold her arms and listen.

Marriskcal Lati · Jun 20, 2019

Marriskcal Lati,
Aide to High Chancellor Tanomas Graf
Equipment: A ttire (made of shellspider silk), Vibrodaggers x2 (concealed)
Location: Vanguard of Polaris, Golbah City, Geonosis
Interacting with: [member=Tanomas Graf"]

If Marriskcal Lati were to place a word to her sentiments, it would indifference.

She has never liked complicated tangles, nor would she ever find herself fond of the little games and silvered words that politicians and those in power were inclined towards.

Did she care that war was all but inevitable by this point? Other than a sense of mild annoyance at the thought that she would have to leave the sanctuary of home, she did not feel much at the thought that the galaxy would most likely be undergoing yet another upheaval.

Did she care that while the titans fought, it was the innocents who suffered most? Perhaps, and more akin to how one watched a nature documentary of a pack of predators tearing apart a weakened prey. A distant sense of sympathy.

Oh, she knew well enough the emotions of dark despair and the death of hope that plagued the survivors. But Marriskcal was a creature forged and wrought by the hands of many, a weapon made to obey and be wielded. And while her time away from the First Order had alleviated some of her callous disregard, there were still many things that did not touch the limited spectrum of her interest.

So long as her small slice of heaven remained safe and untouched, what did she care even if the rest of the galaxy burned?

Wearing the guise as one of the High Chancellor’s aides, the young woman stood quietly behind the older man’s left shoulder. Her primary objective as part of the coterie was to serve as reinforcement to this Tanomas Graf being. And to a lesser extent, to take note of the proceedings and people of interest so as to be able to relay it to her brother. Balancing a dataslate in an arm and idly typing in notes, her vivid blue eyes moved slowly from being to being even as she placed names to faces.

Kier Grey · Jun 21, 2019

Kyli Graf
Geonosis, Golbah City,
The Vanguard of Polaris, Desert Rose 6th Floor

Pain

It was something that Kyli had not felt for several years not since the operation which had transformed her from a baseline Human into a post-human supersoldier, while emotionally stable individuals with sound psychology might have recoiled from physical punishment she enjoyed it. Something Kyli kept well concealed was her drive to seek penitence for her own perceived sins and the disturbing intoxicating pleasure that accompanied the raw all too rare sensation of pain, while the admission would certainly never pass lips absence intense sense being flown from mind Amur and its' host both enjoyed the rush of adrenaline which pulsed excitingly through brain when punishing the wicked.

Kyle Whir

That's what Kyli Graf was known as when working in her capacity as a Coruscant Security Force Officer, of course Tanomas Graf knew who the mysterious strong and tall Powersuit-wearing Sergeant Whir was in truth and that knowledge was possessed on a need-to-know basis. A Confederate Droid reached out to clasp its' cold claws around a durasteel handle only to be effortlessly pushed aside with a gentle nudge by Sergeant Whir who pulled it open before Tanomas Graf's advance in a sign of submission that the wise High Chancellor disliked, not because he disdained being obeyed but he loathed such displays from a Graf who Kyli knew held the family name with such parochial pride to eclipse all others.

A sense of pride that some would say wasn't unearned, Tanomas Graf in truth had been a farmboy who lived a life of military service and killed enough men to end up at the distinguished apex of a Galaxy-wide foodchain. Kyli, standing at six and a half feet tall much higher than the diminutive Marriskcal Lati who followed behind Tanomas Graf beside the Coruscant Security Force Officer. "The viper pit." Amur's silvery teeth hissed in a disembodied wordless snarl. Tanomas lowered himself into a wheeled leather chair comfortably his voice booming, the armed CORSECFOR Sergeant loomed quietly behind her Father's right shoulder with body language that was easily discernible as protective. Father spoke and Kyli found herself scowl disapprovingly behind a Duraplast and Durasteel helmet at his admission.

"Observe at the way they look at him, the contempt. The disdain, they are our friends today and enemies tomorrow!" Amur said noiselessly its' Serpentine and chilling was its' tone sending the tiny follicles on Kyli's neck tried to stand erect against their armourweave tomb that covered her body from jaw to toes beneath the Powersuit's soft and hard armour plates. Streams of hot coagulating blood trickled down through nostrils with an unpleasant stinging pulse that bites through sinuses, the cybernetic device that squat over the top of both brain's halves beneath what was ostensibly a flawless skull angrily thrummed. Kyli hated these moments, between injections of counter-mutagen stims and when there was nothing to occupy her mind the costly debt of the surgical and chemical augmentations incurred on a human canvas was now being paid.

Unlike Tanomas Graf, Kyli was one of the First, those Humans who had been taken by the odious and evil First Order and hammered into something grotesque not just in concept but their tangible presence through the force told a wrong and repulsive existence. The procedure of Project: AFTERLIFE had rendered Kyli as something that many droids alarmingly failed to identify as Human when their sensors had the opportunity to identify the chemicals secreted through her skin in sweat or observe the behavior of pupil dilation constricting to the diameter of a pinhead and expanding to the point where they appeared like onyx stones set into a pair of white marbles.

Kyli's faceplate leant down and spoke in a warped metallic baritone into Tanomas' ear. "Sir, I will present my Umbara testimony when and if you believe it appropriate." The High Chancellor would know all too well of the events 'Sergeant Whir' was referring to, she had narrowly survived contact with Mandalorian Raiders and would step forth and present a personal account of their unbridled barbarity. The Coruscant Security Force Officer's powersuit bore not the Imperial sigil worn by Imperial Confederated Systems soldiers but the stylized ubiquitous Galactic Republic Roundel of that ancient Law Enforcement organisation and its' sworn officers, it was a reminder that with the Core Imperial Confederation's Governance over Coruscant that those old and noble custodians of justice now served at the pleasure of the High Chancellor.

Tags:

[member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Aida Aquila"], @Peyton, [member="Atlas Drake"], [member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Veiere Arenais"], [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="John Locke"], [member="Gir Quee"], @Gianna Regis, [member="Alden Akaran"], [member="Jessica Med-Beq"], [member="Derek Dib"], [member="Luna Terrik"].

Cynthia Alucard · Jun 21, 2019

Cynthia Alucard, Pixie Wing Commander

Location: The Vanguard of Polaris, Desert Rose 6th Floor
Interacting: None Presently
Attire: Formal Dress

Travel, so much travel.

Such a pilot and spacer, Cyn found the prospect of constant hyperspace travel rather tedious. Rather a peculiar sentiment from the young Wing Commander, but truthfully Cyn had an inkling of the reason she was to take part of the Summit. To learn about and inspect our tenuous ally. Cyn rather enjoyed the fact that the CIS had done them a great honor of removing the Republic from the galaxy, in fact she had felt inclined to send the entirety of their Leadership a gift basket of some kind.

But it all paled now with the solemn fact she was face down on her bed, with nearly no mind to actually mingle or introduce herself to the others of representatives outside of her temporary room. With a childish fit, Cyn slammed her pillow over her head, as if preparing for an artillery bombardment to come waking and demanding her to leave the room. Cyn muttered an obscenity used specifically for tiresome situations whenever she was forced to engage into a situation she had rather not bothered at all.

Cyn sighed and slowly picked herself up from her laying position and approached her door to exit out to the main hall. Careful hands set her badges and awards accordingly and with a simple flick of her finger to settle away an insubordinate lock of hair, Cyn left her room to once again pretend she enjoyed these congregations of higher ups and leaderships. At least in such manner as these things. . .

Gianna Aegis · Jun 22, 2019

Location: Confederate Territory - Geonosis - Golbah City - Vanguard Conference Room

Tagging:

ORC: [member="Atlas Drake"] | [member="Peyton Steele"]

CIC: [member="Cynthia Alucard"] | [member="Kyli Graf"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"]

______________

The Nabooian woman couldn’t help but react to the different alignments that seemed to fill the room. It wasn’t as if the Sith were posturing, but, it was there nonetheless. She could feel the presence of the Dark Side as easily as she felt the hand of [member="John Locke"] in her own. It filled the room. Filled the air. Like a cloud of unbreathable smog. She was drawn from a quiet reverie by the feeling of strong fingers wrapping around her own. It was a comfort, one, that she hadn’t been aware that she needed until that very moment.

She was a Knight. A Jedi, Knight. She had lived between the Confederacy and the Silver Jedi for quite some time but she had never breathed air so full of power. Could anyone else feel it? Like little ants that moved around in small lines, walking along her skin, leaving a path of proverbial electricity in their wake. Her eyes closed, with light lashes brushing against the top of her cheeks, while she focused on the well of light that she always held faith in. It was pure, warm, and soothing.

There was nothing to worry about here. Nothing, at all. She preached gentleness, understanding, and tolerance…And yet she let a few Sith make her nervous? No. That wasn’t who she was. Yet, neither was this. She would never feel good about declaring total war. Her focus remained with the people that would suffer the most. Those that were merely part of a government, with no decision, save, the lands in which they called home and the group they identified with.

It was literally a case of being guilty by association. Did the threat outweigh common decency?

She smiled at John, softly, and her indulgent expression would speak volumes when he made a teasing joke. Did he have her? Of course, he did. That was what friends were for, especially, when looking potential doom and gloom directly in the eye. “You do have me, but, that’s not the answer. So…No prize. Not yet, anyway.”

He guessed and she shook her head, clearly, letting the Admiral have his distraction. The flame-haired Jedi Knight remained quiet, watchful, while he mentioned a few names. [member="Atlas Drake"] gave her reason to pause and she tried to think back to what exploration he’d been in the news for. Adventure, for Gianna, was much more interesting than sitting at a veritable round table debating the potential for wholesale violence. “Well. I can see why they’d put him on the net…He’s got one of those faces. It looks like someone you can trust. Good-looking enough to reel in the less militarized folk but not too pretty.”

Who was in charge between them? Gianna gave a little snort, before snickering under her breath, knowing full well it wasn’t her. That was WAY above her pay grade. Her lips parted to request his next guess, but, she was interrupted as the Vicelord and one of his Exarchs began to speak. Infact, a lot of people did, and it seemed that for the most part, the Silver Assembly was on board.

There were a lot of opinions. A lot of valid points. The images on the holo-display turned her stomach so much so that her jaw set, and briefly, she found herself looking at the shoulder of her friend. It wasn’t just the sight of so much destruction that bothered her. It was the phantom, invisible, sense of agony, fear, and loss. It was the emotion that ran through the people in the room. It was an echo of what was to come. Her eyes burned against her will. There would be repercussions. “No one forgets the Sith Empire… “, she murmured to [member="Jessica Med-Beq"], when a lull in declarations began, initially surprised that [member="Tanomas Graf"] made such a strong stance. She knew the hearsay about the tactics of the older Imperial, the general history, and it was surprising enough that he had arrived at all. Like many of the Jedi she remained hesitant of the Core Imperial Confederation, but, it was true that people changed.

His abrupt break from the Sith Empire certainly spoke volumes. The support to do what was necessary was more than she had ever expected. She breathed, briefly, before adding her thoughts.

“Is not the Outer Rim currently engaged with the Sith Empire already? Why fear triggering a response when it's already happening? If we are a true alliance, what affects one of us, affects all of us. The ORC is comprised of free-folk, certainly, but it seems like you are more than capable of waging war. The nation is just already embroiled in something dangerous. With that perspective in mind…It makes far more sense for the Outer Rim to offer what they can at this time so they don’t become caught in a double-pronged war effort.”

Gianna wasn’t at all attempting to challenge anyone at the table. If anything, she was offering a different viewpoint on why the ORC would hold back, while the other three nations, seemingly had decided to go full bore. It wouldn't serve their people to stretch beyond their limits, or, to enforce participation in a place where people were used to their freedoms. Aid, the manpower they could spare, and information was still vital.

It was a sickening feeling to feel relieved, that at the very least, they were all in general agreement. Something had to be done. The opinion was so strong, so intense, that [member="Veiere Arenais"] was willing to take the chance of engaging his own spouse.

Further testimony went on and the young woman remained silent, though, much of it did cause her to cringe inside. She was not a decision maker. Mostly, she had come at the behest of [member="John Locke"], to offer her opinion, but she could already tell it would be lost in this room. There was a lump in her throat. She wanted to stand up, deny this nuclear option, but she could not. She could sense the determination, the intent, but moreover, had been present for several of the atrocities depicted.

There really was no other way…Only, she couldn’t shake a horrible feeling. War was the final solution for several nations that were rather strong when their ties were made clear. It should have comforted her. The odds spelled, truly, that they had a good chance of prevailing. But to win a war?

It was almost as disastrous as losing one.

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