Sleep, No More

[Madalena Antares]

CIS: [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Alden Akaran"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Derek Dib"] | [member="Voph"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Madalena Antares"]​

SJO: [member="Veiere Arenais"] | [member="Josh Dragonsflame"] | [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] | [member="John Locke"] | [member="Aida Aquila"] | [member="Gir Quee"] | [member="Gianna Aegis"]​

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

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

Madalena watched as the events unfolded. Her glowing green eyes took in the sights on the holoprojecters and she kept herself from nodding. Many of those sights, she had witnessed first-hand. And while some of those gathered in the room pretended to be shocked, she could not share their sentiment. That was what war looked like. It was never considered pretty.

But she… She had enjoyed herself during those events. She had felt so much more alive than usual. Was it because parts of her sister had mingled with who and what she was at the time? Was it because in her sister's body, she could always hear the song when she fought? Now… Not was a different situation. There was no song that Madalena could hear when she fought now. Physical fighting had lost its taste and pleasure for her, her endeavors into the realms of Sorcery holding much more passion and will.

Not that it would keep her from it. War, at the bottom line, was still war. And she would fight it. The Knight Commander would not remain in domestic space while the rest of those she was directly responsible for and in charge of left that space to go protect other spaces, or just kill Mandalorians for the heck of it.

Internally, Madalena smiled. It seemed the majority of those gathered were of the same mind. It was only the fact that she was here on official duty that kept her from joining in.

They would crush the Mandalorians.

Together.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

His opinions on the subject of the Mandalorians were well known by now. If not by [member="Darth Metus"] then at the very least by [member="Srina Talon"]. They had promised kinship and distance from other ways of life in the Galaxy, and in the next breath gone to bed with the Sith. He had seen disgusting things, he had committed atrocities, but he had never lied about it.

The derision caused by the Mandalorian Empire was a Galactic scale issue. It was something to be discussed, but he believed that discussion was best left to people who cared. Alkor Centaris had never given much love or thought to the lives of those around or beneath him. Not until recently. Not until it had become expected of him. Even now, he struggled truly to connect with the ability to care who lived and who died.

To Alkor, war was inevitable. Who started it, who lived, who died- these things were irrelevant. Chaos was the blade that trimmed the fat from the bloated Galaxy. It had to be allowed to do its work, simply because it could not be stopped. [member="Voph"] was one of the more passionate speakers, and his words grabbed the dark eyes of the Jen'jidai and pulled them in. He would have spoken up, perhaps, if only to point to the folly of acting merely from a place of hate.

There was little point. To reveal the truth to these people, that the Mand'alor was a dullard woman who warmongered simply out of ignorance of any other path- their assumptions were not far from the mark. What did take his attention was the entrance of [member="Kyli Graf"], who he knew unmistakably due to the armor from their encounter on Eshan.

He moved swiftly, silently from his place against the wall and leaned close, just enough that his whisper would not carry beyond her. "For security purposes, we ask that you not conceal your face while the summit is in session," he told the CORSECFOR operative, one hand on the shoulder plate. "Good to see you again, Sergeant," he said as he pulled back and stepped away from the table.

Alkor turned his gaze across the rest of the room, intent on making sure all protocols were being observed. His Brother's life was never in danger while he was present. It was among the only things that attached him to the Knighthood.

 

[Atlas Drake]

Away Mission - The Vanguard of Polaris​

Captain Atlas Drake, Commanding​

Mission Objective: Represent Outer Rim Coalition​

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

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

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"Are you calling us cowards?"

Crimson flashed across the Shard's photoreceptors for a startling moment, but otherwise he spoke in the same monotone lilt. There had been nothing insulting about the Silver Knight's tone, but her words were nevertheless provocative. The other Coalition delegates visibly tensed.

"Peace, Omegon," Atlas silenced any further musings from the Judge with a wave of his hand, "You know she wasn't, it is a valid question. I'm prepared to authorize a Kathol task force this very moment, and I'm sure General Dukat would be willing to pledge the same. If we contact our worlds via subspace, they should arrive in..."

He checked his chronometer.

"Approximately three months at high speed."

The Outback was vast. It was a little known facet of their galaxy that the further one grasped into void the deeper and wider the nothingness between stars became. Atlas was a long way from home, even if Geonosis was just a few sectors away. It was this singular fact that had made the Territories untamable for many thousands of years. The Coalition knew well enough not to even try, it was both their strength and a crippling logistical weakness.

"Rhen Var was simply a misunderstanding my dear," the Uukaablian general smiled coyly, implying very much that it was nothing of the kind, "We're all in conflict with the Sith Empire, every one of us. Zambrano doesn't fancy himself Emperor of the Tingel Arm. For him, only our galaxy will do. The Coalition are merely the only ones willing to admit it."

Atlas gave Dukat a stern glance, silencing any further comment on the matter. The subject of the Confederacy's non-aggression pact with their enemies was not a discussion meant for this gathering.

"You've asked us to offer what we can," Captain Drake picked up the thread of conversation, "Intelligence is the best of what we can offer. Agents, Judges, smugglers who know how to evade security and rebels who have been toppling empires for decades. What can a handful of planetary guards and militia fighters provide that the Confederate Defense Force and Order of the Silver Jedi cannot?"

Atlas pointedly ignored making eye contact with Tanomas Graf while he said this. Some of those freedom fighters had been deployed against the so called High Chancellor's own forces in the not too distant past.

 

[WolfMortum]

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

Conference Room: Desert Rose [6th Floor].​

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Gianna Aegis had proposed a logical question, however when faced with a potentially image condemning question in a situation where the political climate was so tense and relationships within the room were not all founded on friendship and trust, but the necessity of war and the greater good of the Galaxy, it was natural for Atlas Drake's associate to want to speak up in the defense of the Outer-Rim Coalition. Veiere had spent too much time in the presence of such conditions to not know that even the best of intentions could lead to disastrous effect under duress of politics.

"I'm sure many of us in this room can understand, and relate with your position" Veiere spoke directly to [member="Atlas Drake"], though hoping to appease the man's associate as well. "Many of us are having to bare in mind the borders of our nations, for the Sith also have Allies, some more violent than others. I'm sure I can speak for all of us when I say any support you can offer will be appreciated. I don't believe anyone of us is asking that you risk your borders safety in doing so" Veiere offered a firm nod to the Coalition Representatives, doing his utmost to convey his respect for their perspective situation.

"Like it or not, this is a War that will expand to every corner of the Map if we don't do something about it" Veiere continued, though speaking his thoughts on the matter to the rest of the room now. "None of us wish to put our own people in harms way, yet the Sith Empire have proven time and time again that they will walk over all nations whom they deem to be inferior to their cause. The fact is, if we do not act, they will eventually find us one way or another. That, or fund the Clans of Mandalore to do so for them. This isn't just a battle of politics..." Veiere's gaze fell upon [member="Darth Metus"] as he concluded his statement, "It's a battle for balance in the Force. The Empire has grown too strong, the Mandalorian's won't be the last of this War".

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

 

[Malok]

Location: Golbah City, Vanguard of Polaris​

Wearing: xxxx​

War was never a clean affair.

It was much akin to a fire. Sparked by the most minute desires or differences. Fueled by the avarice or ambition of nations. In the end, willingly diving into the inferno was not a vow to be taken lightly. As such, after opening the summit thusly, silence ruled the Vicelord. His sulfuric gaze bounced from one face to the next, quietly regarding each and every one of their words. Firstly, the support and willingness of the Silver Jedi Order to join the Confederacy in the battles to come was both a joy and a relief. For as long as the Sith Lord knew of the Order, he knew that they were a people who valued peace above all else. For them to see the threat of the Mandalorians as great enough to risk that peace spoke volumes of just how right their cause was.

Similarly, the Outer Rim Coalition was willing to lend their support. However, the movement of armies in the traditional sense was not the boon that they had to offer. Theirs was a unique community - one unlike the typical nations of the Galaxy. And therefore, what they offered was a gift that could tip the tides of any conflict into the alliance's favor. They offered Intelligence. A gift offered by a friend was a gift well received, and it would not be turned away here. Finally, the arrival of the Core Imperial Confederation rounded out the show of support. Their news - confirmation that the Sith and the Mandalorians were in bed with one another - did not come to a surprise to the Vicelord.

In fact, it answered with certainty the question of what would embolden the Mandalorians to raid the allied nations? Nonetheless, the Core Imperial Confederation stood ready as well. All in all, the allied states were of one mind that something had to be done to quell the Mandalorian threat - especially since the Sith Empire was their willing benefactor. The Sith himself then spoke after Master [member="Veiere Arenais"] settled his gaze upon him.

"For all of you, the decision is not an easy one. We all have the lives we are responsible for to think of. And what we ask - what I ask - is sacrifice for the greater good of us all. Firstly, thank you for each rising to the task. For each recognizing the threat we face. And for your commitments to assist as best you can."

"I can only assume that the backing of the Sith Empire is that which emboldens the Mandalorians to wage war as they do against us. However. We will show them, and all those who support them, that we are a Galaxy united. That we are the trillions who will not tolerate their bloody ways of life. That we will make them answer. And should their benefactor rise to pluck them from their just reward, then we as a Galaxy united will do as we must to secure peace and justice."

"For now, we shall focus our attention on the enemy which brought us to this table."

"I ask of the Outer Rim Coalition commitment to gather as much intelligence as possible. We will need knowledge of their fleet movements, border strengths, assets - anything that can give us the upper hand when the battles begin."

"I ask of the Silver Jedi Order and Core Imperial Confederation commitment to each spearhead a strike into Mandalorian territory. I recognize that these days are not the golden years of youths when resources and lives were abundant. Therefore, I do not ask that we strike simultaneously, alone. But rather, that we strike as one allied force and inflict three grievous wounds to their holdings. What say you?"

Once more, it fell to the nations to determine their fate. The Vicelord and his Confederacy stood eager to hear their answer.

Spoiler: Tag

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"]​

 

[Srina Talon]

Location: The Desert Rose
Wearing: Tungsten + Argon
Tags:
CIS: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Alden Akaran"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Derek Dib"] | [member="Voph"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Madalena Antares"]
SJO: [member="Veiere Arenais"] | [member="Josh Dragonsflame"] | [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] | [member="John Locke"] | [member="Aida Aquila"] | [member="Gir Quee"] | [member="Gianna Aegis"]
ORC: [member="Peyton Steele"] | [member="Atlas Drake"]

The ivory-haired woman remained silent while the room spilled into a torrent of opinion and recollections. Her unfeeling gaze remained on [member="Veiere Arenais"], pointed, and unflinching. Throughout every declaration, every statement, they did not leave the Jedi Master. She could not find any fault in his standpoint. Not from that of a war effort, or, that of the maintaining his loyalty to the Silver Jedi. Still. Her jaw tensed, something that was present, though, almost imperceptible. Could Veiere Arenais truly fight the woman he had called his Queen? Could he fight someone he had wed, slept beside, the mother of his children?

From his words—It seemed so. He claimed that he would do what was right. What was necessary. How Jedi of him.

The holo-projector held the desired effect. Though, perhaps unnecessary. The Silvers and the Core Imperial Confederation knew acutely what it was like to be the target of aggression. Her focus shifted, briefly, as [member="Gianna Aegis"] spoke plainly in regards to the stance of the Outer Rim. A pale eyebrow rose, baleful, when the two parties began to bandy about stances and opinion. It reminded her of why she loathed politics. “The eternal battle between Dark and Light is not the war the Confederacy is waging. This is not a holy crusade nor have we suddenly decided to slide one way or the other on the cosmic scale. Neutrality is a thin line to walk, though, we do keep our own council of right and wrong. This is why all people are welcome across our borders. Even—”, she nodded her head toward [member="Alkor Centaris"], “—those with a Mandalorian background. We have plenty in our space that do not follow or condone the actions of this Sole Ruler. One person is not our enemy. We fight far more than that. Our current enemy, by their own deeds, are the Clans of Mandalore and those that stand with them.”

An altercation with the Sith Empire would come. Perhaps not today, nor tomorrow, but it was an eventuality. After the fall of the Galactic Alliance, and the destruction of the Core, they had done what was necessary to put their people, and thousands of refugees, at ease. Going to war with an ally of another nation was the quickest way to ensure tensions rose—And rise they did.

Defeating the Clans of Mandalore was strategic just as much as it was a necessity. No one wanted to admit it. No one wanted to say it out loud. But, she could feel it lingering the back of the minds of the people she was closest to. It was written on the back of their hearts, etched, where the light of day would never see. When it came to securing safety for their people? The First Order had broken into shambles. The Jen’ari were dust. The New Republic? Gone. The Chiss…They were content, for now, to rebuild. What was left? The Clans, and their ever watchful, ever present parent, the Sith Empire.

The Clans of Mandalore, as vicious, and irritating as they had proven themselves to be had a larger problem. They were in the way.

Srina remained silent while her Master brought the slight bickering and discussion to a close. The phrase “What say you” again entered her ears. If the Echani could have smiled, and if it wouldn’t have broken her face, she might have. [member="Darth Metus"] was never one to mince words, to tear them apart, or to imagine slights that weren’t there. In her opinion—The nations had already spoken. It was not a matter of intent. It was a matter of resources. Speaking of resources, there was one other thing to adjust. The Outer Rim had already retained several of their brightest for their war efforts. The attack on the Core was new. “Before we adjourn—”

The young woman paused when an aid entered. The woman was light of frame, with tan skin, and tight curls to her hair. It was clear that she worked for the communications services that the Vanguard offered by the neatly pressed uniform. The Exarch did not react visibly, but, there was a certain level of concern that wound around the base of her spine. They were not to be interrupted.

A holo-doc was pressed into her hand before the woman summarily departed. Possibly, quicker than she had arrived. When Srina read the contents of the missive she knew why. Eshan. Her homeworld was under attack, just as Umbara had been, by men claiming to be part of Clan Cadera. Again. “It seems that the Mandalorians have once again moved. This time, returning to Eshan. Details are still inbound but our forces are already moving to intercept with the permission of Echani Command.”

If there was any anger in her tone—It would be missed. She read it as if she was reading from a dictionary. Lifeless. Straight and to the point. The force-sensitives in the room would know differently. Srina excelled in many things, even, at keeping her emotions buried. But the darkside responded. Ever since Kuat…It rang in her ears louder than it ever had. The Confederacy would go to war. This Summit was not a question. It was rally. They would move, regardless. “As I was saying previously, before we adjourn, we do have an asset to add to the edges of Silver Jedi space with the Silver Assembly signing off. A Confederate super star destroyer will be assembled in the asteroid fields of Roche. The Silver Jedi is welcome to choose any sort of embassy, or stronghold, that they may wish to create in our space. From the Light Sided Nexus on Monastery to a space station, or ship, or anything they perceive as equivalent exchange. Once complete the primary function of this asset will be to patrol the border between the Silvers and the Mandalorians to allow early warning, and, a quicker response time in the event of an attack.”

Umbara...It would forever be a reminder, of a time, when they'd simply arrived too late.

“As the Core Imperial Confederation was just dealing with an altercation, we would like to offer assistance, if it is required. [member="Scherezade deWinter"] and others of our nation have already pledged to aid the Outer Rim in their battles with the Sith. They will have all they need at their disposal.”

Srina fell silent after that. Her notice of an SSD in Silver Jedi space should have been a high note. It would be a reason for all of the allied nations to gather, again, though hopefully with good news instead of dark tidings. Instead, with the sudden news of Eshan, it felt like ash, burning her throat. Nevertheless…She would serve her purpose. She had a responsibility to fulfill, a role to play, and with that in mind she would calm her heart. Silence it, if need be. It had no place here.

 

[Bedrovelse Hevn]

Could he feel any more naked than this? [member="Alkor Centaris"] was clear with him about leaving his weapons and armor at the door. Which left him lacking any attire appropriate for such an endeavor as this. He was going to stick out like a sore thumb in this group regardless of what he wore for multiple reasons. He was a new face among the Confederates, most of which he had yet to familiarize himself with in any capacity. To him, they were just men and women, stripped of their titles and laid bare for his objective eyes. So what did it hurt to show up in combat boots, black combat pants, and tank. Covered of course by his krayt dragon black leather coat, traces of a mercury color embroidering it decoratively in the krayt he made it from.

Hevn brushes past the Knights Obsidian at the door, glancing at Alkor and submitting a subtle nod of acknowledgment. His grotesque frame impeding upon him and the other Commander with his entry. He skirts around Alkor to stand beside him, with some elbow space between them. Given his late invitation and expectation, he imagined no seat would be provided. He was no leader among these men and women. In fact, the room was so swollen with ego that his own could barely fit alongside them. Every one of them reeked of their own pride and importance.

There was one stink worse than the others. The traces of light side could not be ignored and drew his attention angrily to their presence. A Darth hosting Jedi to a meeting without poison in their cups was a wasted opportunity. However this was one of the rare times he tolerated their breathing for a simple reason. The Mandalorians are infinitely worse.

Three times in his existence the Crusaders had come. Each more powerful than the last. They rallied under the same genocidal cry every time. Kill all Force users. These mandalorians may not be of that breed, but it seemed an inevitability in their thinking that repeated itself like clockwork. It was the only time his kin had every justified assisting the Jedi, and the only reason he could endure now. The mandalorians were a threat to every being it would seem. He quietly listens along to the chatter of their politics. Absorbing every bit of information to catch up on galactic affairs.

 

[John Locke]

Location: The Vanguard of Polaris​

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

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Tagging:​

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SJO: [member="Gianna Aegis"] | [member="Aida Aquila"] | [member="Veiere Arenais"] | [member="Josh Dragonsflame"] | [member="Tom Taff"] | [member="Jessica Med-Beq"]​

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

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CIS: [member="Scherezade deWinter"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Voph"] | [member="Derek Dib"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="Adron Malvern"] | [member="Darth Metus"] | [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"]​

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It was surprising, when you heard about these meetings and, at least in the sanctity of his head John wasn’t going to mince words this was a war conference. He’d known what was coming when people started talking, as the images appeared on the holoprojector and the speeches began. The logical part of his brain couldn’t really argue with any of the statements people had put forward. Even if he hadn’t been there to experience it himself, to walk on the surface of Eshan to smell the ashes carried on the wind, to hear the cries of a child scrabbling through a triage centre looking for her baby brother as her parents could only watch her fruitless search in abject horror. There hadn’t been a body left to find. That was the legacy of the Mandalorians, a broken planet and a little girl’s tears as she collapsed to the floor, her little frame shaking from the sobs she couldn’t contain as the truth settled in, a family’s grief as they gathered around her.

That single image had been burnt in John’s mind, the purest expression of grief that he’d ever seen. It was a single image in a city full of them, a city that had been left teetering and shaking from the Mandalorian’s brief occupation, the devastation and slaughter they’d brought to the world without a second thought. The devastation had woken the galaxy to the threat of the Mandalorian menace, but it should never have gotten this far. All the actions they could do, all the wars they fought and the justice they delivered, none of it would bring back that little boy, none of it would salve the wound forever seared into the heart of that little girl.

All that anger, that frustration seemed to light up the room around them, a burning fire in the eyes of these men and women, the great and the terrible of the galaxy binding them to a singular purpose. The destruction of the Mandalorians, their removal as a threat that could ever hurt another planet again. Or at least…most of those gathered in the room. John’s dark-eyed gaze flicked over to the woman sitting next to him, her hand still resting in his. He could feel the tremble in her flesh the uncertainty that seemed to suffuse her for a moment as the woman closed her eyes, seeming to find that inner strength that she possessed that allowed her to look at a galaxy filled with war and death, and still manage to see the light in it and smile. John’s lips twitched up ever so slightly as he saw her shoulders relax and straighten, it wasn’t like the woman had shed her worries, more like an acceptance, a willingness to shoulder them and not let them crush you. It was honestly one of the things about her that he found the most impressive, that inner core of steel that he wasn’t even sure that she knew existed. A mischievous light sparkled in his eyes as John leaned closer to her, his voice dropping as he squeezed her hand, leaning over till she was the only person to hear him, “I dunno…if I have you then that seems like the best prize I could be getting.” The man leaned back in his chair, letting his gaze drop back to the speakers and the inevitable conclusion they were building towards as Gianna commented on their neighbours, his eyes sliding over to Atlas Drake, considering the man as he nodded. “Well there’s such a thing as too pretty,” he pointed out, “but you know, you’re right, if I saw him on an advert I just might sign up.” It didn’t sound so bad, spending years exploring the edge of the galaxy, discovering sights that no-one had seen before, might never see again.

Then it came, the moment John had known was coming, had feared would arrive, Darth Metus’ call to war. It was the moment of no return, past this point they were locked in, with no other recourse than war. It wasn’t what John wanted, what he had ever wanted. All he’d ever wanted to do was to make droids, to find those little ways that he could leverage technology to make people’s lives easier. Instead he’d become what he’d sworn he never would when he was younger, an arms manufacturer, a lord of war. Slowly more and more factories spawned across the galaxy, the intergalactic corporation he’d always dreamed of, but instead of protocol droids and engineers, the construction droids that could help refurbish a neighbourhood ships and weapons came steaming off his lines, arming friends and allies and furthering the slide towards war. The worst part was he didn’t know if there was anything else he could do to help without providing the weapons, he certainly couldn’t do less, the tension like a burr under his skin. In the end there wasn’t a choice, not really. He’d meet the darkness head-on with every weapon and stratagem he could think of, to create a world where no little girl had to mourn a brother killed under the uncaring, indiscriminate slaughter of weapons unleashed by those who should know better. If the galaxy seemed determined to stop him from being the one to build the technology to make people’s lives better then he’d make the world where that person could exist, where they could build and invent without falling into the dame dark path that he found himself treading. "We can dress it up in all the words we want to, in all the phrases but the truth of the matter is that the Mandalorians can't be trusted," his voice was soft but pitched to travel through the whole room, a contrast to Darth Metus' loud proclamation, "how can we trust anyone willing to slaughter innocents just to strike at their enemies, the very people they were supposed to protect. There are no words that can ever describe the horror of walking on the ruins they left in their wake. I don't want to let that happen to anyone else, not if I can stop it." Dark eyes met the Vicelord's across the table, "I'll fight, for the dead, for those suffering and for those yet to come. If you'll have me I'll fight for a better future," and force forgive him for being one more person willing to add to the river of pain and suffering that swept across the galaxy. He didn't have the strength to build a dam, all he could do was add to the flow and hope somewhere, some when someone would forgive him.

 

[Kier Grey]

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

Earlier...

Tanomas led the barely recovered Kyli on a brief walk, before halting and pivoting in his shiny reflective dress shoes to look down upon his shorter progeny still dressed in a set of white hospital patient scrubs steadily following behind infuriated Father in a rigid gait that spoke of nerve injury to a trained Physician's gaze. "You risk too much for a Father to ignore, you will leave the vainglorious displays of expendable self-sacrifice to the Clones!" Tanomas exclaimed loudly, not that the pair of silent Guards outside could hear him.

The two Grafs' hazel eyes remain locked, both stubborn and unflinching Tanomas' countenance was one of visible anger concealed his sadness while Kyli is stone-cold and calm. It would be inappropriate to admit in the middle of a harsh paternal scolding but her steely reception made him proud, as did the following rebuttal which was spat with resolution from her pursed lips. "I did what I thought was right and necessary to save the lives of Umbaran Citizens." Kyli stated cooly without her Father's passion.

"They are not my daughters" His fearsome smoldering voice softened on it and Tanomas pivoted and took a few steps away from her with hands folded proudly behind his back concealing a subtle smirk from her sight, the skin of the middle-aged man's pallor creased thoughtfully. "And they aren't party members you are and I would see you ascend to a position of political prominence and cultivate the leadership talent I see in you."

Tanomas turned his chin depressed against breast watching Kyli's gaze break away the daughter experiencing a mixture of flattered pride and embarrassment at receiving such high praise from esteemed Father searching for the floor but was forced to raise both her chin upwards towards the ceiling by Father's goliathean hand curled into a loose fist. "Never shy away from who you are." He praised Kyli with tender pride. "Above all we must remain loyal to our family. For without it." Looking towards a hologram of Mandalore pivoting steadily above an ornate table in the centre of the room, Graf said quietly. "We are no better than the beasts at our door."

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Now...

Kyli folded her hands behind back below waist keeping both elbows locked straight with feet shoulder-width apart in a distinctly military drill at-ease stance. That's when a familiar voice interrupted her thoughts while listening passively to the other delegations representing those disparate Galactic Powers. Alkor's voice broke the much taller and ostensibly more muscled Coruscant Security Force's Sergeant composure, she turned in towards his grip but did not remove the palm placed against powersuit's surface.

"Centaris?" Even through a vocal distorter and its' sanitizing quality their level of surprise was still audible, listening to his caution about facial coverings Kyli's hands rose upto their helmet and paused for a second thinking on her organisation's policy on removing headdress when on-duty. Even with the diplomatic immunity it'd be polite to comply with their security regulations. Two painstakingly lazy beats of her unnaturally powerful heart passed and she spoke.

A band of rubber that sealed around bodysuit's nape retracted up into helmet after hissing quietly Kyli pulled the shroud with its' single brass glowing lens up over a crown covered in fine combed dark brown virtually black hair tied into a neat bun, a pair of Hazel eyes set in almond-shaped orbs stared dispassionately towards Alkor although the full pair of lips pursed together cocked into a subtle faint enduring smirk. "I trust you've been keeping out of trouble?" Kyli asked keeping their reinforced duraplast helmet beneath right arm and planting left palm against her own hip, body language that spoke of confidence even as tone retained an icy but not unkind quality.

"New uniform" Kyli said simply gesturing a gauntlet in his direction. "It suits you." Dry was the compliment given to former Warmaster. "But it cannot hide your past." The statement from 'Kyle Whir' is made as a cool cryptic knowing caution and she goes as far to offer a lone empathetic nod in his direction. Kyli oddly placed her left gauntlet's palm beneath her nostrils above top lip and droplets of blood visibly began dribbling steadily from nostrils, her sinuses thoroughly scabbed wept blood all the veins and innumerable capillaries of head throbbed angrily the cybernetic device squatting over both halves of brain stabbed repeatedly tick, tick, tick threatening noiselessly to bleach all other emotion and sources of pleasure not earned from careless, guiltless fury.

I'll need more counter-mutagen stims soon. Thoughts were still coherent and Kyli had not yet started hallucinating and she recognised that as a good sign. More than once does Kyli's pair of Hazel Spheres flick towards the peculiar individual standing beside Alkor, from their body language and physical closeness she concluded accurately that there was some description of relationship between them but would not have been so bold to begin inwardly speculating on its' nature. Kyli made little secret of studying the man what is Hevn though and continued to look in their direction between conversing with Centaris.

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"], [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"], [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Cynthia Alucard"]
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