Faction Symposium [ THR Great Houses ]

[Oriana Indupar]

INDUPAR ROYAL ESTATE DINING HALL
​

There wasn't much Oriana could do about the plight of the Tapani Nobles. First, she was vastly uneducated about the situation. Sure she had rubbed elbows with a few of the families back when her husband was in power but that had been when she was first married. Faces blurred. Time faded names. Second, as a Duchess and lower noble within the family, her voice only carried so far. Her father was the King and his word law. As a lower noble and a woman her job had been to be the perfect spouse and produce heirs. With only one heir and a deceased husband, Oriana found herself in an odd position. For now her pioneering cause was education, especially for refugee families and especially a push for forms of higher education beyond the basics.

Acceptable. Expected of her.

So Oriana was viewing this as a type of educational endeavor. She and various other nobles would learn of the plight of Tapani and discuss next steps to help. If there could be any help given. Purse strings tended to be tight across the Great Houses and Indupar was no exception. Her father, if she was being honest, was a little worse than most of the ruling families located inside the High Republic. Indupar came first before all others.

As the host, she had reached out to Lord Evandro Wenelle to give a speech and, if he was up to it, give a small question and answer period during dinner. Oriana had chosen a less formal method for this, eager to put Lord Wenelle at ease and to get the real story of what had occurred. Every piece of news had their own spin, she found it better to go straight to the source.

Her fork tinked against her glass to get the attention of those assembled. Lord Wenelle sat at the head of the table, many awaiting his speech.

"Lord and Ladies, thank you for your presence this evening. I have called upon Lord Wenelle to give us his account of the horrors on Tapani. It may be difficult to hear and digest but finding the truth will be the only way forward. As Great Houses we need to stand together, especially as so many have fallen." Oriana gave a small pause. "Lord Wenelle, I yield the floor."

 

[Evandro Wenelle]

​

A young man stood at the side of the Duchess Oriana Indupar , dressed in fine clothes of his own. Shades of green trimmed in gold, the traditional colors of his House. Medium-length strands of gingered-blonde hair crowned his. There was little doubt this was the son of Ulysse and Salomé. The Tapani noble bowed his head when his host introduced him. He soon found himself addressing the crowd.

"Esteemed members of the Great Houses, and fellow guests. I am Evandro Wenelle, Count of Pavia." He spoke confidently, "I would like to thank the Indupar family for making this possible."

The Count gave a polite applause, others following his lead. He turned once again to speak to his audience.

"I come before you as one of the lucky ones from the Tapani sector to share and inform of what is going on there." He lectured on, "As some of you may know, my home sector was unexpectedly and brutally attacked by a force calling itself the Sith Covenant."

He steeled himself. The imagery was still fresh in his mind. The carnage of loyal Tapani soldiers being cut down by crimson blades. His childhood home in blazes. His family in ruins.

"My father....sorry..." His voice wavered, the wound still fresh, "Like many from the Tapani worlds in that Sith campaign, lost their lives. Others of us were forced to flee."

He took out a kerchief from his breast pocket, and dabbed his eyes. It was clear that this ways genuine emotion. He took a deep breath, confidence returning.

"Indeed, I am lucky, as I found safe haven in my kin on Naboo." The Count affirmed, "But my people are in disarray. I come to you on their behalf. For resources to help those refugees who were not as lucky as I...."

Then came the biggest ask of them all.

"And, Force willing, the might necessary to retake our home." He concluded, "Thank you for any support you can give."

He bowed, standing to the side once more. Hopefully, this display would be enough for his fellow nobles to use their resources toward a good cause.

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Oriana Indupar Evandro Wenelle
​

Elian Abrantes had been sitting patiently on behalf of House Abrantes, hands folded loosely before him, posture relaxed in the way of someone accustomed to formal settings but not fully at home in them. He listened as the words passed across the table in careful succession. Some reached him clearly. Others blurred together, lost as his thoughts drifted elsewhere for a moment, to images of burning homes and scattered families that felt uncomfortably close to his own recent memories.

A gentle nudge at his elbow brought him back.

"Master Elian," Caleb murmured quietly.

Elian blinked, then inclined his head slightly. "Yes. I am sorry," he whispered back, forcing a polite smile as he straightened. He lifted his glass just enough to give a soft clink against its rim, the sound drawing attention without demanding it, and rose slowly to his feet.

He did not attempt grandeur. That had never been his way.

"I know that no words I offer can ease the loss you have suffered," Elian said, his voice steady, earnest rather than polished. "Grief like that does not listen to speeches, no matter how well intentioned."

His gaze settled briefly on Lord Wenelle, respectful and direct.

"I simply wish to offer my condolences, and to state plainly that you have the support and the faith of House Abrantes. If there is anything within our means that we can do, we will be there."

He inclined his head once, sincerely, then lowered himself back into his seat, the weight of the moment lingering even as the room quietly absorbed his words.

 

[Isley the Younger]

NABOO
[-| INDUPAR ROYAL ESTATE |-]
TAG: Oriana Indupar Evandro Wenelle Elian Abrantes
___________________________
_______​

Isley the Younger had listened in silence, his presence composed and deliberate among the gathered nobility, eyes attentive without ever drifting into spectacle. He had heard the reports long before this evening, fragments of devastation carried through secure channels and whispered across diplomatic corridors, and he had already stripped them of their poetry. Tragedy, yes, but tragedy alone had never been enough to move the machinery of survival. Around him, sympathy flowed easily, nobles recognizing the pain of nobles, mirrors reflecting mirrors, but Isley’s mind remained anchored elsewhere, in consequence, preparation, and the cost of assuming protection would always come from beyond one’s own borders.

Tapani had once stood comfortably close to the Galactic Alliance, basking in the assurance that proximity to power was protection enough. When that Alliance fractured, there should have been urgency. Fleets expanded. Garrisons hardened. Warriors trained not for ceremony but for war. Then the Galactic Empire rose, brazen enough to unveil a weapon that could erase worlds, and still Tapani did not act with the ruthlessness the age demanded. Comfort had lingered where vigilance should have taken root, and now the Sith Covenant ruled the aftermath of that complacency. Isley did not deny the cruelty of it, nor the pain etched into Lord Wenelle’s voice, but he could not ignore the lesson written in fire.

This was not a time for romantic heroics or grand gestures meant to soothe the conscience. It was a reminder, sharp and unforgiving, that the High Republic survived only so long as its Houses chose endurance over indulgence. There was a season for banners raised in righteous fury, and another for walls thickened, supply lines secured, and children taught to live beyond the reach of mercy. Isley’s thoughts rested firmly in that latter season.

After House Abrantes offered their words, heartfelt and sincere, Isley stepped forward, the movement unhurried and assured. He inclined his head in courtesy, acknowledging both host and speaker, before allowing his voice to carry across the space.

“House Verd offers its sincere condolences.” Isley said, his tone measured, resonant, and unmistakably earnest. “The loss of family and the loss of a home are grievous wounds to the heart and soul, and no House that endures through history is untouched by such scars.”

He let the words settle without haste, neither pressing forward nor retreating from their implication.

“We mourn with those who have suffered, and we will remember them.” he concluded, eyes steady, unflinching.

With that, Isley inclined his head once more and stepped back from where he had stood, offering respect without promise, sympathy without silver. House Verd did not open its coffers for distant absolution. It fortified its own walls, so that its people would never need to beg beneath another’s roof.

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Oriana Indupar Evandro Wenelle Isley the Younger
​

Elian listened carefully as Isley spoke, taking in each measured word and the restraint that shaped them. When the man stepped back to his original position, Elian felt the weight of what had been said linger in the air. House Verd. The name settled in his thoughts, sharp and deliberate, carrying a very different kind of promise than the others offered that evening.

He shifted in his seat, glancing briefly toward Caleb.

"Excuse me, Caleb. I will be right back," Elian murmured.

"Yes, Master Elian," Caleb replied without hesitation.

Elian drew in a steady breath as he rose, shaking his head faintly at himself. This was ridiculous. He was not a child. He did not need a constant shadow, even if that shadow belonged to someone he respected deeply. Nothing against Caleb. Truly. But tonight demanded initiative, not hovering restraint.

He made his way across the room toward Isley, posture relaxed but purposeful. When he reached him, Elian offered a polite nod, his expression open and unguarded.

"You spoke well" Elian said, an easy smile accompanying the words. "Although, sometimes I feel differently." Elian admitted with recent events, have caused him to think more about how things were going.

He extended his hand slightly in greeting.

"My name is Elian Abrantes. If I heard correctly, you represent House Verd?"

 

[Oriana Indupar]

Brows furrowed slightly as Count Wenelle spoke and two others - a older man and a young boy - spoke of remembering Tapani. The boy, an Abrantes, spoke of support. Support. The word was battled about like a shuttlecock on a fine spring morning. Soaring through the dining hall yet not landing with any real weight.

Condolences uttered, Oriana went for the real heart of the matter. What she had wanted to know since the horrible event occurred that no one seemed to have an answer for. Vague was the name of the game in these things which she always hated. There were ways to tell the truth but delicately.

"Count Wenelle, when you say support, could you enlighten us on what that means? Support can be a frivolous as thoughts or as grand as a battle cruiser."

Isley the Younger | Evandro Wenelle | Elian Abrantes​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Indupar Royal Estate
Tags: Oriana Indupar | Evandro Wenelle | Elian Abrantes | Isley the Younger

Aurelian sat at the far end of the table, fork nudging food that had gone cold. A troubling time, he thought, though that felt like an insultingly small phrase for what Tapani had become. He had heard the reports early, not filtered through salons or softened by distance. He had seen it. His ships had escorted refugees out of the Core, hulls scorched, cargo holds packed with frightened families who had once dined under chandeliers just like these. Boyhood friends among them. Faces he knew. That made tonight harder to swallow.

Around him, nobles performed grief. Condolences passed like ritual cups, polished and empty. Aurelian resisted the urge to sigh. The Count had not come all this way to collect sympathy like commemorative plates. No one fled burning worlds for pity.

He glanced toward Wenelle. The man held himself well, but the strain showed. Aurelian felt it too, coiled in his chest. He did not understand the posturing, the careful distance some kept, as if tragedy were contagious. If Tapani could fall, so could anyone. That was the lesson, wasn't it?

When the Duchess Indupar pressed for clarity, Aurelian's attention sharpened. Good. Finally. Someone asking the question that mattered. He leaned forward, resting his forearms on the table. He felt the eyes turn toward him, curious, wary. He did not bother to soften his expression.

"Yes," he said, voice carrying easily over the murmur. "Sorrows. Sorrows. Prayers. The usual offerings."

A flicker of a smile touched his mouth, sharp and humorless. He glanced briefly at the gathered nobles, then back to the Count.

"Excuse my forwardness," Aurelian continued, "but has the King of Indupar truly convened us here to sulk together?"

A few breaths caught. Good.

"Speak plainly with us," he said, tone steady now. "Those of us at this table command fleets, credits, and influence within the Republic. If Tapani is to be more than a memory recited at dinners, then say what is needed."

Inside, his thoughts churned. Walls and coffers meant nothing if no one dared to use them. "Let us decide, here and now, how we intend to act," Aurelian said, "and if so, how. I would very much like to see Tapani free one day. I doubt I am not alone in that thought."

​

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Evandro Wenelle Oriana Indupar Isley the Younger​

"but has the King of Indupar truly convened us here to sulk together?"

"I highly doubt that, but a bit of reassurance can be needed."

Elian gave a brief look back to Isley before facing the those present. The Sith Covenant was a menace, growing and rising in power. Elian was no jedi, but even he could feel it in his bones, this was going to break out into a bigger conflict. But where should the High Republic stand, with the whole of the galaxy against oppression, or perhaps deal with anything that crosses their borders, as part of him felt it should. That was a more selfish part of him though, because aide wasn't a one way street.

Something good, and also something bad could be returned to them.

"What does the sector need more than anything?" Elian asked.

 

[Evandro Wenelle]

​

TAG: Oriana Indupar | Isley the Younger | Elian Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna


The Count of Pavia sat as he heard each noble turn around and offer their sorrows and prayers. Some meaningful, others half-hearted. Among those gathered, he knew each name well. Galactic history had its own book of names and deeds that, if you knew where to look, could be bought and read at the leisure of any Tapani nobleman. It also helped his mother was from Naboo, and many of those seated at this table belonged to the progeny of that same world. House Abrantes, esteemed winemakers and plasma-harvesters. Similar to the King of Naboo across the table, a scion of House Veruna. Evandro's eyes flicked between each of them. His eyes lingered for a moment on one in particular.

The master of House Verd of Naboo. Isley the Younger. Evandro grew up of those stories as well. Damnable Isley Verd, the Mandalorian who called himself Sith. Such strange times and bedfellows it was that he found himself among one such as these. The Tapani Count returned his gaze back to King Veruna. He stood once again, this time with more presence. It seems the subtle knife would not cut through the minds of those beside him.

"Then I shall speak incredibly plainly, Your Majesty." He addressed the room, "My people seek refuge....and justice."

His eyes turned dark. The eyes of a man who had seen hell upon his world and who coldly sought vengeance. The eyes of a son whose father was murdered.

"Honored nobles of the Republic, the Core burns with the darkness of the Sith and powers that see themselves as heirs to Sidious' Empire." He grew bolder with his words, "You ask me, 'what do you want'? My answer? To not be so blind to the growing snare that curls around the throats of all here like a hangman's noose."

Slowly but surely, if one who knew the Wenelles before this day could compare, one could see the visage of the previous Count forming on his son's face.

"I plead that you send your armadas and soldiers. Your fleets and commanders." He spoke with more confidence, if tinged by anger, "Take a stand against this darkness. Help us reclaim the Core. Help us reclaim Tapani."

He took a moment to pause. He knew he was allowing his emotions to get the better of him, and thus allowed himself the time to recompose himself.

"If you cannot abide by that, then I plead for your aide in seeking a new home for my people." He sighed, "At this point, my Countship is meaningless. All I can do now is advocate for those who were able to flee that horror. It is the absolute least I can do for them. If you cannot fight with us, use what influence and resources at your beckoned call to help my people rebuild their lives."

He scanned the room again, locking eyes with the King once more. Almost as if to say, Was that plain enough?

 

[Oriana Indupar]

Send armadas and soldiers? Oriana resisted raising her eyebrow. A declaration of war was something to be taken seriously. While she was in no position to decide such things, Oriana could say as Duchess doing such an act would weaken Indupar. When push came to shove, her people and her planet came first. What if Indupar was next? Who was to say there weren't more threats, such as terrorist attacks or subterfuge in the works for all the Great Houses across the High Republic.

So she would ignore that request. Such a thing was for King Aurelian Veruna to decide, not herself.

"Are we speaking of finding a new home for the nobles of Tapani in the sense of somewhere to rule or merely a place to rest your head? If it is the former then I would suggest to Tapani noble refugees to begin marrying into other noble houses. I cannot see a sovereign planet allowing foreigners to come into their territory to begin rule."

A slight pause. She went too far.

"If it is a temporary home to figure out next steps, Indupar can offer some comfort."

Evandro Wenelle | Elian Abrantes | Isley the Younger |​

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Oriana Indupar | Evandro Wenelle | Elian Abrantes

Aurelian turned his head just enough to catch the younger Abrantes speaking. He fixed Elian with a flat look, the sort that suggested youthful enthusiasm was admirable but badly timed. This was not a seminar. This was blood and math. He looked away before the point needed sharpening.

His attention returned to Wenelle as the Count finally abandoned subtlety. Good. About time. Aurelian listened closely, jaw tightening as the words spilled out. Armadas. Soldiers. Fleets. He kept his expression neutral, though inside he scoffed. As if fleets were ornamental centerpieces, waiting to be lent out between courses. As if none of them had borders to guard, unrest to contain, enemies watching for weakness.

He understood the anger. He even respected it. But anger made for expensive strategy.

Aurelian was already preparing to speak when the Duchess of Indupar cut in. He glanced at her, eyebrow lifting slightly. Practical. Careful. Predictable. He approved, mostly. The suggestion landed awkwardly, but the offer beneath it was real.

He leaned back in his chair, then forward again, resting his elbows on the table. When he spoke, his voice was calm, almost conversational, though his eyes stayed on the Count.

"A fine offer from the Lady of Indupar, Count," Aurelian said. "If it is temporary refuge you seek, there is no shortage of Noble Houses who would love to be heroic enough to host you for a time."

He paused, letting that settle. He chose his next words carefully. This was the part people resented, even when it was true.

"Though I imagine you and your people may need to consider settling in more lasting ways," he continued. "Blending into Mid Rim families. Establishing roots where the fires are not so close."

He watched Wenelle closely. This was not comfort. It was reality.

"To make a dent in the Core will take years," Aurelian said. "To reclaim Tapani even longer. Wars are not instantaneous, no matter how righteous the cause."

Inside, he felt the familiar tension coil. He wanted Tapani free. He wanted vengeance too. But wanting did not move fleets.

"I assure you," he added, voice firm, "the Great Houses will do their best to support our brothers and sisters of Tapani. In resources. In shelter. In influence."

He did not soften the ending.

"But you should prepare for the truth alongside that hope," Aurelian said quietly. "This conflict will be long. Difficult. And it is possible Tapani may never be reclaimed."

​

 

[Elian Abrantes]

Aurelian Veruna Oriana Indupar Evandro Wenelle Isley the Younger
​

Aurelian had a way of speaking that quieted the room without effort. His words were sharp, and they were true. Elian listened, hands folded, feeling the weight of them settle in his chest.

He had no experience with war. Not really, he knew it only through histories, through losses described after the fact, through the long shadows it cast on people who survived it. He knew enough, though, to understand that nothing like this was ever quick or clean. This was not something solved in a week, or even a year.

Elian's gaze drifted briefly across the gathered nobles. Could those who came before accept that truth. That reclaiming Tapani, if it ever happened, would demand patience, sacrifice, and a willingness to endure uncertainty.

 

[Fervos Kej]

Tags: Elian Abrantes , Aurelian Veruna , Oriana Indupar , Evandro Wenelle , Isley the Younger

The court of nobles could be like a den of predators, a setting that was not entirely foreign to. Even a slight misstep in one's maneuvering could be a direct course towards ruin. Decorum was important enough to hinge one's reputation on. This sort of arrangement was sometimes more cutthroat than the actual military!

Even as an outsider to the proper noble houses, Fervos was not totally out of his depth. He was a noble in his own right, son of a Togorian chieftan of some renown locally. His younger years had been spent learning to socialize with nobility, something that was now coming in very useful. Truth be told, he felt great anxiety being here.

Tapani still smoldered from the fires The Sith Covenant had started, yet here they were safe and sound. They had no fear of raiders at the gate, Tapani had no such luxury. Evandro's talk of justice inspired the lionheart to look inward, find his courage to speak.

"I agree that war is a last resort, truly I do. However, I can understand the feeling of a man in exile. When you speak of justice Count Wenelle, you speak with a true conviction. It is one that brightens the room even in such dark times."

Fervos paused for a moment, considering his next words carefully. His fur-covered face wore a frown that seemed all too human.

"If it were up to me, I would pledge as much military support as possible to your cause. Marauders such as The Covenant must not be allowed to prosper, lest other forces of blackhearted evil rise up," Fervos said, his frown deepening for a moment. "However, we must consider the lives that would be lost in such an endeavor. The power of The Grand Army is great, but our reach is not infinite. Dispensing with The Covenant would take many cycles and many lives to be sure..."

His courageous heart was torn between his want for justice, and his need to protect. To rush headlong wouldn't do, a more delicate touch was needed. That would come with time, and the much calmer minds of the higher ranking nobility. At the end of the day he was a soldier forged for war, and when he was let loose, he would follow orders. Until then, his hands were tied.

 

[Evandro Wenelle]

​

TAG: Oriana Indupar | Isley the Younger | Elian Abrantes | Aurelian Veruna | Fervos Kej


Once more, the younger Wenelle listened as his elders spoke in turn. His face, momentarily, turned into one of disappointment. Perhaps he pushed his ask for military support a little too strongly. They thought him admirable for his gusto, it seemed. Yet, for one reason or another, their would not lend their swords, so to speak. Yet, there was hope for their shields. He turned to his host, the Duchess Indupar. He inclined his head to her in thanks.

"My people welcome the offer, milady." He spoke with a tone of gratitude, "Even if temporarily."

He looked to the rest of them. He was taken by surprise when a leonine being spoke up. A Togorian or Cathar, by the looks of him, as Evandro assessed. He listened to the lion as he used his logic to explain things. The young Count was swayed, and reconsidered his earlier position. Perhaps, in the heat of passion for his homeworld, he did not truly think to realize what he had been asking. He nodded to the beastly man before continuing his gaze around the remaining members of this meeting. His eyes met the King of Naboo once again.

"Then that is next best thing I can ask, Your Majesty." He seemed calmer, "A place to settle roots. Not for us to rule, but for us to melt into. Like alloys under heat. If the Republic will have us."

He sighed, feeling something of relief. There was at least some hope.

"I was lucky in that my mother's people are House Parnelli of Naboo, and that we could find a place to start again." He said plainly, "I just wish to secure the same for those from Tapani who were able to flee with us. Noble and commoner alike."

He had hoped he made it clear enough that he did not seek his people to have any sort of governance or sovereignty on anyone's world. But, like any migrant people fleeing a distressed home, to simply to find citizenship in a place that would take them. A place where the shards of a shattered life could be made into something resembling wholeness again...

 

[Oriana Indupar]

"If nothing else, you will at least have temporary refuge on Indupar as the next steps are considered."

The other Tapani, Lord Kej, she did not know his complete title, was speaking of military but also the loss of life. This immediately endeared the man to her. While Oriana was no stranger that armed conflict happened and needed to occur, many did not account for the loss of life. Often that loss was bore by the brunt of young men.

Oriana had seen her own late husband contemplate the decision once before. Many times there was no easy answer. The Duchess saw it as a multifaceted issue that could endlessly be debated past midnight. A decision in her eyes rested with the King and the Tapani people. It would be difficult to decide and then rally an entire population to take up arms for one planet.

Perhaps if this was Coruscant. Oriana had never been. Nor had she seen an appeal. Yet it seemed to inspire something in many hearts and minds.

"I am sure you both will find a home inside the Republic's borders. In time."