Dominion Sound the Horns! | Dominion of Iridonia [DIA]

[Shade]

Shade remained still as the others moved, not out of hesitation but out of discipline, allowing Zinayn's lead to define the flow of the operation while she refined her own place within it. She listened to the cadence of movement through the comms, the soft confirmations, the absence of unnecessary sound, and felt the familiar certainty settle in her chest. This was not her operation to command. It was her responsibility to support it without friction.

When she spoke, her voice was low and measured, threaded carefully so it complemented rather than redirected.

"Confirmed," she said quietly, her attention fixed on the flagged command tent through the sulfur haze. "The central placement matches what I would expect from a group that relies on symbolism to reinforce authority. Visibility over discretion."

She shifted slightly, repositioning for a clearer line of sight as the geyser cycle reset, already counting the seconds in her head.

"Zinayn," Shade continued, deliberately addressing him first, "your path is clear. Terrain and sound cover remain favorable for another cycle. I will mirror your movement and maintain flank awareness unless you direct otherwise."

Her gaze next tracked the periphery, acknowledging the others without asserting control.

"Aknoby," she added, "your disappearance is effective. Maintain it. If you detect deviation or secondary movement, flag it only if it threatens Zinayn's advance."

Then, to Dean, her tone carried quiet trust rather than instruction.

"Your rear coverage is solid," she said. "Remain fluid. If pursuit forms, delay and disperse rather than engage unless Zinayn signals otherwise."

The geyser surged again, sulfur mist blooming and collapsing like a breathing lung. Shade adjusted her stance, already aligned to move with Zinayn, taking no step without reference to his lead.

"I will maintain overwatch and timing," she concluded evenly. "You set the pace. I will ensure nothing reaches you that you did not account for."

She fell silent again after that, presence folding back into the environment, attention fixed on Zinayn's position and the next lull in the geyser's cycle. Ready when he was.

Deanez Zinayn Aknoby Redmond

 

[Laphisto]

Location: Malidris the Capital City of Iridonia
Objective 1
Tags: Lord Mettallum Diarch Rellik Diarch Reign

Laphisto stepped forward, a low rumble rolling through his throat as the chamber fell silent. His hands moved from behind his back, unhurried, as he set a compact holo-projector upon the table. With a muted chime, it flickered to life.

The hologram resolved into the LO-48B armor system, sectioned plating, reinforced joints, and layered survivability overlays rotating slowly in the air. It shifted again, displaying the LO-18D weapons platform, its firing profiles and modular configurations phasing in and out beside it. These were not threats. They were proofs of doctrine, tools refined through war.

With a measured motion of the Force, the display expanded outward. The projection transformed into the Bastion Curtain. Orbital defense platforms locked into overlapping fields of fire. Shielded space stations anchored hyperlane choke points. Mass-driver emplacements, interdiction nets, and layered sensor arrays formed a continuous defensive wall in space, vast, methodical, and absolute.

"Iridonia is a beautiful world," Laphisto said evenly. "And because of that, it is now a target." His gaze passed over the assembled leadership without haste.

"You sit astride a vital hyperlane. That alone makes you prey for pirates, hostile factions, and powers waiting to carve what the Galactic Alliance failed to hold. The Diarchy does not come here to conquer your lands, nor to enslave your people. We are not an empire hiding behind a different flag." He paused before continuing. "We come to offer protection. Real protection. The kind that cannot be improvised. The kind independence alone cannot provide."

The hologram shifted again. Scenes of unrest filled the chamber. Fractured infrastructure. Armed clashes between Iridonian factions. Sulfur-choked valleys burning with rebellion. Civil war in its early stages, authority already eroding. "Your world is already destabilizing," Laphisto continued, his voice calm and unyielding. "Open rebellions. Competing power blocs. Armed resistance festering in terrain you cannot fully control. Left on its current course, Iridonia will not remain sovereign. It will be fought over until nothing of value remains."

He leaned forward slightly. "The fact that this council would deny its people access to lasting security, choosing pride over survival, would be sufficient grounds to remove you from power and detain you for crimes against your own citizenry." The chamber tightened around the words. "But we are not here to do that." With another measured gesture, the hologram changed.

Before-and-after images filled the air. Worlds once crippled by crime, poverty, and instability appeared again, rebuilt beneath Diarchy oversight. Secure trade routes. Restored infrastructure. Local banners flying alongside Diarchy standards, not erased by them. "The Bastion Curtain shields every world within the Diarchy," Laphisto said. "Orbital defense. Rapid response. Guaranteed trade security. Cultures are not erased. Governments are not dismantled. What changes is that they are no longer defenseless."

The projection dimmed, leaving only the faint hum of the device. "Now," Laphisto concluded, straightening, "you will hear the Diarchs out. You will consider what is being offered in good faith." His gaze hardened, just enough. "Or this council will be detained for willful negligence, and the people of Iridonia will be allowed to elect a new leadership, one willing to secure their future rather than gamble it." Silence followed. "The choice," Laphisto finished, standing himself upright and pushign his hands behind his back once more "is yours."

 

[Marrok Vorr]

Objective: Meet an old friend
Location: Ismet-Thio "Estate", Iridonia
Outfit: Gray Robes
Tags: Jairdain Ismet-Thio | Jax Thio

It had been years since Marrok had stepped foot on Iridonia. His only true memories were of his parents, the small farm they managed, and the place that he approached now. He was a child, under ten years old, when his parents decided that his destiny was to be fulfilled elsewhere. Marrok did his best to keep in touch with his family, but he had never returned "home" until now.

After years of guidance, for better or worse, from the Galactic Alliance, a new galactic power was seeking to assert influence over what could have (maybe should) been Marrok's home. Marrok returned mostly to make sure his parents and their culture were safe from this new incursion. While the Diarchy's presence was not entirely peaceful, it seemed that the rebel side was being quite stubborn. And Marrok knew a stubborn Zabrak was more like than not to lean upon violence to make their point. The ongoing skirmish with "rebels" was to be expected. No matter which way the clash turned out, the culture of Iridonia would live on.

Marrok's family had been surprised by his return. It had been so long since he had been "home". There had been other interruptions in the lives of Iridonians. His mother answered the "why now" question with a grin. Their old neighbor had returned. Jairdain. Marrok was only a toddler when last he saw her. But she had made quite an impression. So now he walked slowly approaching the lands that he snuck onto so long ago.

Jairdain was the person who made the Force real, before the Jedi arrived. She was the one that had made him know there was going to be more to his life than tending a farm. She didn't do it through any formal teaching, or even sharing of Force dogma. He wouldn't have understood that. She was the first person he had encountered who affected everything the way he could. He wasn't sure how he knew, but he did. Iridonia had been her solace at the time. She had a young son who Marrok played with on occasion. Marrok didn't know what she would be like now. He hoped for the best for her.

Work was being done here and there on the land that had obviously been left stagnant for some time. As Marrok approached he was quite glad to see not only Jairdian, exactly as he remembered, but a family of three…no four. He smiled as he walked up. He had thought of Jairdain often in his journey in life. She looked just like she did now not because she had done something to freeze herself in time, but because he didn't have a clear vision of her. Now that he saw her again. All his memories had "magically" transferred to her current appearance.

"Jair," Marrok called out rushing towards the family in an uncharacteristically childlike pace and gate, almost skipping. "I cannot believe that we come to be back on Iridonia at the same time. It is so good to see you."

 

[Jairdain Ismet-Thio]

Jairdain had sensed him before his voice reached her.

Not as a sharp flare or a practiced touch of the Force, but as something familiar moving back into a place that remembered it. Iridonia had always been like that. It carried echoes. It held names long after mouths stopped speaking them.

She turned toward the sound of his steps, her expression softening as recognition settled in—not of a face she had last seen clearly, but of a presence that had grown into itself.

"Marrok," she said, his name spoken with quiet certainty rather than surprise.

When he rushed forward, that half-skipping eagerness cutting through years like they were nothing at all, she smiled fully. It was the kind of smile that came from relief rather than nostalgia.

She stepped forward to meet him, laying a hand briefly at his shoulder, grounding, familiar, unmistakably her.

"You were small enough that your feet barely kept up with your curiosity," Jairdain said gently. "I wondered, sometimes, who you would become when Iridonia let you go."

Her awareness brushed outward then, taking in the shape of his life not in detail, but in weight—the steadiness, the questions still carried, the choice to return rather than stay safely away.

"I am glad you came back," she continued, her voice warm but steady. "Not because this place needs saving, but because it matters to remember where you began. Too many people forget that part of themselves."

She inclined her head slightly, a gesture of welcome rather than rank, and gestured back toward the land where work was being done, where voices and quiet labor marked renewal rather than conquest.

"This place gave me shelter once," Jairdain said. "Now it is giving me something else. Time. Roots. A chance to build without running."

A pause, then a softer note entered her voice.

"And I am very glad," she added, "that it brought you back to me as well."

Marrok Vorr Jax Thio

 

[Lord Mettallum]

Lord Mettallum couldn't help but smile internally when Diarch Rellik stood up for him after his clear over reaction to a little bit of spit. It was a strange feeling being held in a high regard by an organic but one he did not dislike. Lord Mettallum bowed his head when Diarch Reign spoke "Apologies Diarch, I Lord Mettallum should not let childish insults get to my head"

Laphisto spoke as if the Diarchy wasn't forcing 'security' upon the people of Iridonia whether they wanted it or not but then so did Lord Mettallum. It was easier to see and hear hypocrisy when someone but ones self did it. Lord Mettallum had already planned a bunch of lovely and painful executions for the elders should they not find agreeable terms with the Diarchy, not that he had informed anyone else of this.

"As the High Commander has stated we will provide protection. As shown by our arrival your current planetary defence force is quite pitiful and in dire need of restructuring. Integration into the Iron Legions will be paramount in this endeavour ensuring that you will have access to the highest quality training and defensive equipment." Lord Mettallum had planned to show holograms of weapon systems but the High Commander had beaten him to it "The first step to making sure the Diarchy can defend Iridonia is to ensure your people are capable to defend themselves." One of the first steps Lord Mettallum planned to do was find out which pdf officers aligned with Diarchy views and which ones needed to be removed.

"Now another important step in ensuring the safety of the people is the documentation of all force sensitives currently residing on the planet. It is common knowledge that your people have an affinity to the force and to ensure their safety we must follow the guidelines of the Force Regulation Charter." Droids would proceed to give each elder except for the one receiving medical treatment a holopad with the details of the charter "A reminder that this is not a form of conscription and is only for identification."

 

[Rasha Popova]

Objective III: Not-So Routine Patrol
Location: In orbit over Iridonia
Tags: <Open!>

Planetary operations on Iridonia had already begun, with legions making landfall onto the planet by rank. The first waves were already ashore, waiting patiently to engage The Rebels on the sulfurous grounds of Mudiru Valley. Rasha sat rather impatiently on the command deck of "The Pegasus", her Suppression Cruiser, looking down on the planet through a viewscreen at the hellish planet. What a despicable ball of stinking dirt, one good orbital barrage would do this planet some good. Sadly, she was under strict rules of engagement, fire only when fired upon.

The legions were the priority, and indiscriminately barraging the planet would do them no good. Lamentable as it was, maintaining a holding pattern over the landing area was the best way to provide support. It was also massively boring, a glorified taxi service for the 7th Legion. Seconds turned into minutes, and minutes into hours, all with minimum communication on the bridge.

After three hours of mind-numbingly boring work, something finally required the Legatus's attention. A matter that would be the first of many dominoes to fall today...

"Madame Legatus, we have communication that a Rebel ship wishes to cross lines and surrender! They were damaged in battle and need help with their wounded."

Rasha arched a brow at the petty officer who now spoke to her. She chuckled a bit, seeing a zoomed in view of the ship in question. It was an old freighter, probably older than most sentients in the galaxy, and it seemed barely operable.

"Run a scan for life signs on that ship now," Rasha barked, having a dropping sensation in the pit of her stomach.

"Aye ma'am!"

But it was too late, the ship detonated in the midst of The Diarchy's landing fleet. It was such a massive explosion that several ships were split by the shockwave. The massive cruiser shook as the blast hit it, Rasha found herself face down on the floor suddenly, grumbling as power returned to the command room.

"We're still alive! All hands to battle stations! Tell the remaining landing ships to abort until we can gather intel!"

Just as it seemed nothing could get worse, two starships warped through Hyperspace, popping up in weapons range of the main fleet. Two Invincible-Class Dreadnaughts were ahead of her, weapons hot and concussion missiles primed to fire. They were relics that weren't designed to fight a fleet the size of The Diarchy's, but they weren't here to win, they were here to cause as much damage as possible, then retreat.

"Damnable rebels! I will have them for this aggression..."

 

[Vyn Daldoure]

Tags: Diarch Reign Diarch Reign Laphisto Lord Mettallum
Equipment: Equal Handshake, J.A.M.R, D-37 blaster, Icarus Armor

This was unacceptable. Iridonia time and time again had suffered the occupation of others. Occupations the planet never needed. His people were stout and built for hostility, the planet itself hated foreigners. Maker, the planet hated its natives too. He'd grown up on the planet when it was under the New Imperial Order. He was NIO for most of his young adulthood. That system collapsed. Then the Alliance, well, he was on Coruscant to see the ending of that, and had been committed to the rebellion. This was more urgent than fighting the GE. This was his home.

"We are here to decide Iridonia's future," Rellik said.

"And where is our agency, the honor, in that?" Vyn pushed his way past the door. The sound of his footsteps, heavier than the man that produced them. Like metal falling with each step. His eyes locked onto the metallic unit. With a glare that almost looked like a challenge before pressing on towards the elder he struck.

"please there is no need for that type of disrespect."

"Hmm, what this old man has done, was an insult." Vyn stepped in, one hand firm against the elder's shoulder as he checked his jaw for damage. The tone of the room shifted, the other Zabraki staring, not necessarily at the members of the Diarchy any longer, but at Vyn. Some of the elders giving him a wide berth. His reputation preceded him. "Striking my elder proves the point I'm about to make. You answered disrespect, with violence." He looked into the elders eye's deeply. "And you! Do not go polishing this machine built for war with your spittle and expect restraint." Another elder let out a nervous chuckle. "You'd know something about that Daldoure." To which Vyn only gave him a look of condescension.

"Iridonia is a beautiful world," Laphisto said evenly. "And because of that, it is now a target."

The Diarchy does not come here to conquer your lands, nor to enslave your people. We are not an empire hiding behind a different flag." He paused before continuing. "We come to offer protection. Real protection. The kind that cannot be improvised. The kind independence alone cannot provide."

"Iridonia has always been a target. The imperials said the same thing, the alliance said the same thing. Mandalore respects our sovereignty, they always have. I've met the Iron himself, I know what kind of man he is." Vyn propped himself up, between the elders who were giving him a look that said 'shut up Vyn', and those that would claim they are here to protect them.

"You say you're here to protect. To safeguard us. Yet the first buildings you claimed are the first one's a force should target in a military occupation. Our water, our power, where we stand." Something in the way he spoke, his quiet, stoic tone. He'd known a thing or two about taking a city, maybe even a thing or two about what it included. "I speak for everyone here whether they would say it or not, when I say we would rather wipe ourselves out than see another force keep us under heel."

Give our partnership a chance. Raise your power stronger than any other time before and be something greater! We are here, we are crushing any rebellion. Do not be foolish."

"You say that, but in recent history, our occupation under the NIO turned us into attack dogs. Would you use us the same way?" One of the elders approached Vyn, his hand outstretched, almost hesitating to put it on the young Zabraki's shoulder. "Vyn. You're not helping. You promised to stay in your Villa." Vyn's eyes flashed blue as they turned toward the older man, a faint shimmer betraying the cybernetic nature of his retinas. "Better here than slaughtering their forces and creating a larger problem, brother? I only promised to stay away as long as it took for them to take the city, and if anyone should have a say in how our people are treated. It should be me."

His Gaze found Laphisto, the Diarchs, and the Droid once more. He knew of the Diarch reputation, both men Force-users. He knew of Laphisto little, but had seen him use the force upon entering the room. "Besides... if they decide to kill you all. I figure I'm the one person who gives some of you a chance." Despite his words, the young man speaking had no connection to the force, yet the hand placed upon his shoulder retracted in an almost agreeable way.

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik turned to face Vyn Daldoure fully. Not sharply or with anger. With Respect and direct acknowledgement of the mans passion.

"You speak as though you are already acting as their leader," Rellik said evenly. "So I'll ask you plainly, why do you not offer yourself as one?"

His gaze moved briefly, not dismissively, to the elders behind Vyn, then back to him.

"You invoke occupation. Exploitation. The use of your people as blades swung by others. You are not wrong. So tell me what changes for Iridonia if you stand here only to refuse, rather than to lead."

Rellik gestured once toward the chamber.

"You will represent this world as its doom or its hope. Whatever you wish your legacy to be is up to you alone. I offer this plainly. You would have a home in the Diarchal Assembly. As a voice for the people. Remembering their history, and guiding them forward. You would argue openly on their behalf, and be heard by leaders who answer to their own people just as you would answer to yours."

He continued without waiting for a reaction.

"The Consul Diarchs are advisory. We ensure the whole remembers it is shared. That we are unified. We are not emperors nor Chancellors" His eyes stayed on Vyn. "You would be as much a member of the Diarchy as I, the Diarch, am Iridonian."

He didn't dress the next part up.

"Your people have been used as warriors because war has been your only export. The realities of this world produced generations of exceptional fighters. That fact has been exploited by every power that passed through. Is it truly unreasonable that whatever excess is created here be shared in return? Their ideas were not wrong, it was the implementation of it. We will not collect a tithe of flesh. We would, of course, be honored if your people according to their own traditions fought alongside us with the same resolve we would fight for you. We share food, resources, security, technology, manpower. And when your world is stabilized and uplifted, you find another strength worth offering instead of your military age people, then that is what you will bring."

Rellik met Vyn's eyes again. He inclined his head a fraction.

"We are moving towards the core. I believe it is a very fair, honest, and in lawful respect of your people that we offer this as we go on our way there."

A glint of something more powerful flashed under the Diarch's eyes.

"I can only determine that a mad man who would see the deaths of his people in defiance of logic - would refuse such terms. Which the Diarchy can not abide those who would see their own people killed... for no good reason."

Laphisto Lord Mettallum Diarch Reign Vyn Ryder

 

[Laphisto]

Laphisto's expression tightened into a faint frown as his attention settled on Vyn Daldoure. At the mention of the Mandalorians, a soft scoff escaped him, restrained but unmistakable, carrying more disappointment than derision. He adjusted his stance, the subtle weight of his armor shifting as he drew a slow, steady breath, clearly reining in a deeper reaction.

"The Mandalorians of this era have no honor," Laphisto said evenly, his voice calm but firm. "And I do not say that as an outsider casting stones from a distance. I say it as vod of Clan Ordo. If you have met the Iron himself, then you met the mask he chooses to wear. Mandalore today is not sovereign. It is guided, influenced, and quietly directed, just as it was under Mand'alor the Ultimate during the Mandalorian Wars."

His gaze remained fixed on Vyn as he continued, unflinching. "That pattern has not changed. Only the banners and the symbols have been replaced."

Laphisto drew another breath, visibly grounding himself before pressing on. "The Diarchy is not here to turn Iridonia into another garrison world, nor to claim your children as currency for war. The Diarch spoke truth when he said you will not be forced into conflict. We are moving toward the Core to dismantle the Galactic Empire before it can threaten more innocent lives. That war will occur whether Iridonia chooses to stand with us or apart from us."

As he spoke, a low tension radiated from him, subtle but undeniable. The Force coiled beneath the surface, pressing against a restraint he had clearly constructed by will alone. It did not lash out, but it was felt, like pressure behind a sealed bulkhead. His ears pinned back slightly, a visible sign of the effort it took to remain composed.

"You mistake restraint for weakness," Laphisto said, his voice still controlled, but carrying weight now finality. "We are not here because Iridonia is easy to take. We are here because it is worth standing beside. But understand this clearly: the Diarchy does not tolerate those who would consign their own people to annihilation out of pride or nostalgia for old wars." His eyes did not leave Vyn's. "This is an offer made in good faith. Refuse it if you must but do not pretend you were not given a choice."

Diarch Reign Diarch Rellik Lord Mettallum Vyn Daldoure

 

[Vyn Daldoure]

Tags: Diarch Rellik Diarch Reign Laphisto Lord Mettallum
Equipment: Equal Handshake, J.A.M.R, D-37 blaster, Icarus Armor

"You speak as though you are already acting as their leader," Rellik said evenly. "So I'll ask you plainly, why do you not offer yourself as one?"

His gaze moved briefly, not dismissively, to the elders behind Vyn, then back to him.

"You invoke occupation. Exploitation. The use of your people as blades swung by others. You are not wrong. So tell me what changes for Iridonia if you stand here only to refuse, rather than to lead."

One of the elders laughed when the proposal was mentioned, a few others made more of a nervous chuckle. Yet the majority almost started to sweat.

Vyn? He stared at the floor then finally raised his head towards the Diarch.

"Rellik? Is it? If anything this suggestion alone is proof you have no understanding of our history." He looked into the man's eyes, then the other members of the Diarchy in the room. "I'm no leader. I'm a... well the best comparison would be a mad dog, one who's outgrown his leash and kennel. No one on this planet who hears my name would trust me to lead, I mean look at them." He motioned his head towards his elders. "They're afraid of me even being in this tent, not necessarily because I would hurt them. But-"

One of the elders interjected "Because of what he might do. The Daldoure name is respected, Diarch. But it is also feared even amongst our own."

Vyn's head shot a glance at the elder telling him. "That's enough"

The elder changed the subject, "Vyn is neither hope nor doom to Iridonia, and he should not sit in an assembly. For this young man, is our personal walking Baradium bomb."

Vyn shook his head. "Regardless, even if we do join. You are not, Iridonian, Diarch. Even the Zabraki of the galaxy, who's family hail from here, but who do not grow up here, cannot be considered Iridonian. This planet, growing up here, it forces the the individual develop a certain level of resilience and tenacity, that almost no where else in the galaxy requires of it's inhabitants. You said it yourself. This world produces warriors, but it's because this world requires it of it's people."

Vyn's eyes shifted to Laphisto now
"Call the Verd man what you will. Claim he wears a mask or is not the man I have glimpsed, sure. I can buy that. Yet, you do not lay yourself bare in front of me? You've made a very clear distinction, but again you have done so without understanding who we are. " Vyn took a few steps forwards, his footfalls like dumbbells against the floor. "Pride is survival, Memory is our lineage, and War? That has always been context. Not fetish."

Yet there was one very good point to be made. The Diarchy had beat Mandalore to Iridonia's doorstep, that in and of itself was impressive, and the fact the third major faction close enough to reach out and touch their border was the Empire was... for a lack of better words. Very bad.

Vyn looked back to his elders. despite what Vyn believed, despite the absolutist in his core. This sit down would not be given if the Empire were to reach Iridonia. Vyn gave a resigned sigh. "Elders. They make a... glaring point. The Galactic Empire is quadrants away from us now. The alliance nothing but a failed dream, and the High Republic unfortunately sits on the other side of the biggest threat in the galaxy relevant to our home. If the Empire got close, can we honestly say that we would not request aid when they arrive? Can we not say that this meeting wouldn't have happened in the future, yet instead of an offer, it is simply us begging?"

The elders looked between one another and gave a few glances, a conversation with not so many words, yet the hesitance was still there. Vyn spoke up again. "Lets be realistic. The Empire wouldn't fight back against local pockets of resistance, they wouldn't offer a sit down. They'd glass us without a second thought if they saw any resistance. I'd like to say one occupation is not so different from the rest. But in this case..."

The glances hardened the elders nodding then looking to the Diarchs. "Diarchs there is a single condition we have. You will not make warriors out of our people. However one in particular will be placed with you." His eyes turned to Vyn, a knowing glance. "Vyn Daldoure will go with you. He will ensure your actions benefit us as well. And if your goals look like they endanger our planet or people, Daldoure will rectify those missteps."

Vyn shot a glance at the elder, pure restraint. "I'm a weapon no longer, I will not be-." The elders all laughed at that, one cutting him off. "Vyn if that were true, you wouldn't have came to this assembly. Besides, the Rebellion has been your home for a while now. And I doubt you would genuinely refuse this."

Vyn shook his head in disappointment. Mad Dog was accurate, and his people had finally found a use for his bite. Would the Diarchy even accept this? He'd spent the last minutes telling them how bad of an idea it was to let him into a position, it was clear Vyn was being "given" to them. Like handing over a live grenade with no pin and saying "Don't let go, it would bad for all of us." Vyn as the grenade included. "Shtakka..."

He looked to the Diarchs his eyes examining both men, and their subordinates. "Well then.... Your move."

 

[Diarch Rellik]

Rellik rose.

He closed the distance between himself and Vyn very calmly. One hand lifting to rest on the mans shoulder. When he spoke, it wasn't to the room. It was to the man in front of him. Weathered wrinkles long formed at his eyes became highlighted; showing years of smiling as one of the Diarch's boyish grins formed on his face. His thumb pressed once, steady, reassuring.

"I understand it is complex, new, and frightening. Ever so the galaxy has been a dark place for as long as we have known it. Pain and war has been my whole life." The giant scar from Prazutis's blade going vertically down Relliks face over his eye made that point apparent.

"I never lied, we started the Diarchy so that the children of tomorrow do not have to grow up as we did. Scrapping, fighting, crying. You are not being given, we welcome you with open arms. We all had different paths that brought us here but our purposes are the same. Whatever means necessary, we will let people live without blaster fire or screams. They may judge you."

Finally his glance shifting slightly to the elders behind him. His smile only growing larger in an almost comical fashion of sticking his tongue out without doing so. Only for his genuine gaze to return as he spoke to Vyn.

"But I never will. Welcome to my family. May ever you need, you have a brother in me. A father or teacher if wanted. And a guide for when the pain we choose to carry is to much. Rise up, anew Vyn. It is never to late to be the man you choose to be."

With the last of his words Rellik released his hand from the mans shoulder. Winked and then took a very deep bow. Showing that the Diarch is not above humbling himself and showing the gratitude that comes with being accepted in open arms.

"That is the same for all peoples of Iridonia. Come to me when you need. You will be heard, you will be cared for. How much you wish to use this advantage is up to you." His gaze moved across the elders, measured and clear. "Let me be clear on the next few days. Radar and intelligence stations will be established planetside. An orbital station under the Lilaste Order will be positioned above Iridonia for defense and rapid response. This world will be integrated into a rotating security sequence where fleet elements will pass routinely to ensure you are doing okay. Delegates and warriors of Iridonia may come aboard Diarchy vessels as they wish. Exchange will be open. Any terroristic action will be met with the correct force of law, no more, no less. As we would treat anyone else. - As we would expect to be treated. Be kind to each other. Uplift each other."

A final note, soft but absolute. "Know this, you are free and those who stand here to protect you will die for you if that is what it takes. I would die for any of you. It was that simple all along. Do not let your history and heritage be your damnation. Let them be celebrated, this world could boon from hunting licenses, tours, and military guides. Your people could be celebrated in fields of sports and then unto science, art, and philosophy. Let your foundations guide you unto a path of greater ambition and success unseen by your people before. Dedicate yourselves to this as we dedicate ourselves to you and bring about a new age. An age of the Diarchy!"

Vyn Daldoure Laphisto Lord Mettallum Diarch Reign