State of the Republic, Vol. II + Internal Integrity Order

[Geneviève Lasedri]

Harsh news from Contruum had arrived only days ago, as well as the somber mood of the Republic people.

In less than triumphant fashion, the Prime Minister sat down at the station of her leadership within the Senate hall and was dictated the reports from the invasion--casualties; evacuees; predicted economic loss; acts of valor. The White Hat; the Raven of Chandrila; Geneviève Lasedri looked nigh but dead ahead, eyes motionless and resistant. She could only hear things for so long before they became weighted on her soul. Then they blurred into numbers, and she tried to keep it that way. But it was by no means simple.

By conclusion of the reports, the Prime Minister was expected to stand and give her response. Which she did. "People of the Republic." That was how she started, always. Each time, a little different; a little sadder. "We have received troubling news from the war front. The Republic world of Contruum has fallen to our persistent enemies, amounting to great loss in life and in our hearts abroad and in the Senate."

The leader removed her sunhat for once, lips pursed and hands trembling "We mourn with the Republic and curse the evil forces that promote great fear and ceaselessly defile life in all its forms." Lasedri paused to collect a few deep breaths, lips chapped; tongue raw and taste bitter. "Tirelessly, I will work to destroy the Sith once and for all, or die on the battlefields among our brethren if I must do so to protect our nation. There is no glory in suffering in the crippling grasp of an iron fist. There is no time for delay. There is no faith if leaders are in absentia.

"Freedom or death."

Now came the part where the familiar Geneviève many loved and many hated emerged. "A message to the Mandalorians." If any eyes were not already inspecting her every move, they were in the instant she uttered those words. "If you truly value our peace, you will react in due order with a public call for the arrest and indictment of Draco Vereen and the traitorous warriors under his supervision. The Republic will not stand for the allowance of such backstabbing, and will seek immediate recompense for the damages wrought by their subject lest further relations between our nations deteriorate. This is no time to politic. If the Galactic Republic and United Clans of Mandalore are to stand together against the One Sith Empire and the Primeval radicals, it is only detrimental to our united cause to permit such treachery."

"People of the Republic," she repeated with more conviction this time. There would be no doubt in her tone. "I have not yet begun to fight." Subsequently, the Republic's political head retired to her office.

Hours later, the latest executive order was sealed at the desk of Prime Minister Lasedri.

Executive Order 00049.1 - Reestablishment of Armed Forces Internal Integrity Order

Whereas the Galactic Republic must sustain a military of great power for the defense and re-acquisition of Republic territory;
Whereas it is imperative that the morale of the service personnel of the Armed Forces should be preserved;
Whereas the population is sufficient for greater concentration of active service personnel;
Whereas the Galactic Republic does not discriminate against its citizens or citizens of other territories in which it is establishing authority;
Whereas a clone army was deemed highly successful in recent military engagements;
Whereas the government of the Galactic Republic is required to preserve its citizen population to the best of its ability;
Whereas the Galactic Republic has been faced with extended periods of war as of the advent of the One Sith aggressors;
Therefore, the Armed Forces of the Republic will reorganize its payscale for ranks, with decreases in commissioned officer pay and increases in non-commissioned pay for the betterment of the morale of the soldiers;
Furthermore, the commissioning of the clone army shall be implemented under standard military procedure, provision, and salary;
Furthermore, the maximum age of military service entry shall be raised to 37 Galactic Standard Years;
Furthermore, the Galactic Republic shall initiate an obligatory quarterly conscription lottery for the continued drafting of troops;
Furthermore, anyone with prior service in the Armed Forces or with documented descendants will be exempt from the draft.

[member="Faith Balor-Organa"], [member="Akatan Adasca"], [member="Soliael Devin Talith"], [member="Ordon Trozky"], [member="Josef Levik"], [member="Danny Colen"], [member="Lady Kay"], [member="Persephone Callas"], [member="Valen Cerezo"], [member="Kralossk"], [member="Anija Betna"]

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

A sad day for the republic and its allies....being on contruum she witnessed the death and destruction before her own eyes...even worse was she saw it from the sky....

Stardust was dressed in fancy Jedi clothing and garbs....which she truly didn't like however she was in the Senate hall and would dress properly

She sat down in a row of seats and sighed listening to [member="Geneviève Lasedri"] speak, stardust wish she could do more butbsadky couldn't

She bowed her head and then rose from her seat as she finished and walked out ....she needed to go somewhere quiet...where she could relax and clear her head

 

[Popo]

Once again, Popo the Hutt was watching the galactic news from his personal suite at the top of the Wheel once more. He wore a set of flannel pajamas over his personal armor and a pointed nightcap atop his head. A thick blanket lay over his massive form as he settled down for bed. Normally, the temperature was generally regulated board the space station, but lately the Hutt had been in a sort of 'winter' mood. The room was a bit chilly and so he'd opted for thicker blankets and warm PJs in general. Next to him in matching PJs, nightcap, and also tucked under the covers was his stuffed Ropo, Mr. Fuzzykins.

The news network replayed the Chancellor's words. Or was it Prime Minister now? He didn't know anymore. Since his leave of office so long ago, the Republic had begun a horrid downward spiral. To those in power, it was at the peak of it's potential. They saw a strong, united faction dedicated to wiping out the evil Sith at every opportunity with the brave and glorious soldiers of the Republic.

To everyone else, including Popo, it was a train wreck that you couldn't look away from. Not out of horror, but from a morbid curiosity that stemmed from the age old question: just how much will it splatter when it hits?

Sure, he'd tried to fix it during his time as Supreme Chancellor. Did his best, too, but some things just weren't meant to be fixed. A patriot at heart, even Popo had to admit that the Republic was a dead mule lead by a blind driver pulling a cart with no wheels.

"I don't know why they're so focused on making the Mandalorians turn over one person," he said to the stuffed animal casually. "Mandalorians are mercenaries and warriors, some of the best bounty hunters there are, too. If she thinks the Clans will just casually give up a Mandalorian for doing what Mandos do, I should see if she's interested in some prime, waterfront real estate on Dagobah some time."

At that, the massive Hutt gave out a huge yawn and flipped through the dataslate at the new laws put into place that were released by the Republic's offices for public view.

"You know, I don't know if they read these, Mr. Fuzzykins," he said as he browsed. His tone was amused, though mildly tired. Operating a company like Tenloss and maintaining a small, personal criminal underworld of his own took a lot out of a Hutt. "Illogical reasoning, detrimental pay cuts and raises, poor reasoning, and terrible execution of new and pointless laws. I almost want to ask if that woman in the terrible sun hat - Lasomethingorother? - is secretly working for the Sith."

Popo scratched at his chin and shrugged. Ultimately, his personal assets throughout the galaxy were safe and secure, the money was flowing, and he'd washed his hands of politics in the Republic years ago.

"Ah well, if she is, maybe the Sith will actually win the war and life will go back to normal. And, if not, maybe they'll find someone capable. Either way, it's bedtime, Mr. Fuzzykins," rumbled the Hutt.

With that said, the holodisplay was shut off, the datapad found itself turned off and set on the nightstand, and the lights were turned off. Soon enough, deep and resonant snores could be heard throughout the penthouse suite while down below the central spire, hundreds of thousands of tourists gambled and drank and cavorted, blissfully ignorant of the pajama-clad Hutt and his stuffed Ropo companion far above.

 

[Vilaz Munin]

Mandalore

In a bar on Mandalore was Vilaz sitting at the bartender's counter, drinking ale that was brewed by Clan Betna. He always ordered anything that was brewed by Arrbi's clan, not because they were friends but because their alcohol was a taste unlike any other alcoholic beverage. Luckily, he wasn't an alcoholic or else he would have drank Manda knows how many volumes of beer. Beer didn't solved his problems and traumas but neither could milk.

As he was enjoying his drink the show that he was watching on the TV was rudely interrupted by the Prime Minister of the Republic. He didn't had time to hear what the Prime Minister said, but when he changed the channel it would appear as what he saw on the previous channel. Many patrons in the bar complained as they had the same feeling as Vilaz. They just had to go through whatever speech the leader if the Repunlic had to say.

It was like the same as usual: the One Sith had won another battle and the Prime Minister was doing her best to persuade the Republicans to hold on tight through this storm. The Redneck could care less until she had come to the issue of Draco. She was demanding him and the Clans to arrest Draco? This made Vilaz coughed up his ale and made him very, very angry. In response of this he threw his drink at the television which shattered the glass and cracked the screen of the TV. "Who the hell does she think she is?! She thinks she's making us a damn favor or something? The di'kut doesn't even know crap of our culture!" The other patrons also yelled insults at the broken TV that had the prime minister, and they knew that she couldn't hear them. One thing to know about Mandos was that they did Mercenary Work for anyone. As long as they didn't harm the Clans then all was good.

After hearing this, the Redneck flipped off the TV, paid for the broken glass and the television, and went off to the gym to work out.