Private The Cost of Compromise

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Director Rennar's Office, Theed Royal Palace, Naboo
Tags: Damos Rennar | Alban Roble

Boot heels clicked against the surface of Director Renner's desk, a blatant disrespect for the High Republic's military command that Aurelian wore like a badge of honor. He leaned back, lacing his fingers behind his head while the Bothan director shifted uncomfortably nearby. This entire summit was an exercise in futility. When Aurelian had occupied the interim Chancellor's seat, Admiral Rhys Gorne had promised a war arsenal capable of shielding the entire galaxy. Yet, under the rigid, cautious hands of Chancellor Dominique Vexx and Renner, the grand Republic war machine had stalled into bureaucracy. Threats multiplied while the fleet dwindled.

Naboo would not burn on his watch, even if he had to fund its defense out of his own deep pockets. That resolve alone kept him in this stifling room, enduring a parade of mediocre defense contractors. Four bids had already dragged by, each more underwhelming than the last.

"PGEM has completely stalled, Director," Aurelian said. He didn't look at Renner, keeping his eyes on his own datapad. "Please take this next bid seriously."

A soft chime echoed through the office as the heavy doors slid open. Representatives from Roble Manufacturing stepped into the light. They were the fifth presentation of the afternoon, easily the strongest on the docket, and notoriously expensive.

Aurelian's lips curved into a smile as he finally lowered his feet to the floor. "They aren't cheap, but they are the best we have left. Let's see if they can actually build something worth buying."

​

 

[Damos Rennar]

Damos Rennar's jaw tightened in frustration as he listened to the proposal. Even more telling was the ripple of his fur at the back of his neck, a clear sign of a Bothan under frustrating pressure.

It irritated him to admit that Aurelian was right. He liked the boy he really did but the King of Naboo had an unrivalled talent for delivering sound military observations in the most infuriating manner possible. Boots on his desk, casual indifference, and enough confidence to fill the room twice over. Under any other circumstances Damos might have thrown him out himself.

Instead, he found nothing in the argument worth challenging.

"The programme has stalled," he admitted, folding his arms across his chest. "You heard me practically say it on Alderaan." His eyes shifted towards the representatives as they entered the room.

"I don't particularly care what the invoice looks like." The words were flat and laced with the matter-of-fact tone he was famous for. "I just want to make sure I have ships so when you question my deployment integrity I have an answer for you."

Silence lingered as he shot a wry smile back towards Aurelian.

"So, Your Majesty, consider us in agreement."

Aurelian Veruna Alban Roble​

 

[Alban Roble]

M A G N A T E
Morningstar Station, Wild Space
​

Tag: Aurelian Veruna | Damos Rennar

Several nondescript human representatives of Roble Manufacturing entered the room, remaining standing in the shadows. Shades covered their eyes, and their expression was completely neutral, devoid of emotion. Their dress was standard business-formal, dark blue and grey with Roble Manufacturing's logo emblazoned on a metal pin on their chest. At their feet was a floating astromech droid, painted in the same dark blues and greys, silently hovering around a half-meter off the floor.

When the representatives had all taken their places, the astromech's holoprojector bloomed to life. A life-size holotransmission of Alban Roble, broadcast from Morningstar station in Wild Space, emerged. Alban -- or rather his holoprojection -- looked at the two officials who sat before him. He had been briefed on them both: Aurelian Veruna, King of Naboo, and Damos Rennar, chief of the High Republic's effort to reinvigorate their defense program. Alban had been personally made aware of the Republic's circumstances when a Jedi had sought him out for an industrial partnership. The starshipwright had further ambitions to increase Roble Manufacturing's profits. His projects needed a hefty payday. "Gentlemen," he said, his voice warm and friendly. "Have you ever heard the expression, 'up shit's creek'? It's a little couth for the Core Worlds, but out here no one bats an eye."

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Damos Rennar | Alban Roble

Agreement from a Republic official was a rare luxury, and the rare alignment of minds earned a genuine chuckle from Aurelian. Damos possessed the blunt, unfiltered practicality common to military minds, a trait the young king thoroughly respected and deeply missed amid the suffocating diplomacy of the Mid-Rim. Turning in his seat, Aurelian let his feet drop to the floor, watching the Bothan with an amused glint in his eye. "Then we are in agreement, Director. A truly historic day for us both."

The heavy doors parted to admit the Roble Manufacturing delegation, drawing his attention instantly. Uniformed in sterile shades of dark blue and grey, the corporate representatives filed into the room with masked eyes and absolute, rigid neutrality. A hovering astromech droid glided silently at their heels, its projector casting a flickering blue light into the center of the office. The holographic form of Alban Roble materialized from the beam.

A highly entertained smile cut across Aurelian's face at the sheer audacity of the opening line. Boredom vanished in an instant, replaced by a calculating focus as he leaned forward. "Are you implying that we are up shit's creek then, Mr. Roble?"

​

 

[Alban Roble]

M A G N A T E
Morningstar Station, Wild Space
​

Tag: Aurelian Veruna | Damos Rennar

"Are you implying that we are up shit's creek then, Mr. Roble?"

"And without a paddle," Alban nodded with a semi-sarcastic somber tone. He looked the King, then his military official, straight in the eye in turn. "I'm aware I'm here to sell you ships," he added, "but I am reserved as to whether your Republic will be around enough to make good on those payments."

There was truth in Alban's words, as well as a deliberate sting. Perhaps other corporate representatives had come to woo, to grovel, to cajole their way into the High Republic's good graces and therefore, their pockets. Alban would do no such thing; he would not debase himself for the chance of profits, and what's more, his words carried real doubts that he had reserved against the High Republic. His negotiations with Dashiell Retrofit had been one matter, and he had been far more willing to sign off on essentially an increase in production of components Roble Manufacturing already produced. But any new line of ship was an investment for the corporation, one Alban wanted the Republic to prove itself worthy of.

"Let me lay out the scene," he continued, his tone picking up a beat to become more conversational. "You have the Sith behind their blackwall -- terrible for business, by the way. More Sith have massacred the Tapani sector and put the Empire to heel in the Core. And I've heard rumors that in the Outer Rim, Mandalorians are torching Jedi enclaves and crucifying their Jedi captives." He sniffed. "The Republic is currently the only bastion of sensibility and stability in this galaxy, but are you willing to defend it?"

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Alban Roble | Damos Rennar

Rarely did corporate pitchmen speak with such unvarnished arrogance, and the absolute nerve of the shipwright earned a genuinely delighted chuckle from Aurelian. Tucking his chin into his hand, the young king leaned back to absorb the sheer honesty of the projection. Alban's assessment was brutal, bleak, and entirely correct. A single coordinated push could shatter what remained of their influence.

Instead of rising to the bait or defending the Republic's bruised pride, Aurelian stayed still, letting the silence stretch as Roble painted his grim portrait. The audacity of a man questioning if the Republic would pay its bills while surrounded by war was refreshing. It beat the usual groveling, suits-and-data-pads routine by a mile.

"We have no other choice but to defend it, Mr. Roble," Aurelian said smoothly. "The Mid-Rim is our home. We don't have the luxury of packing up our assets and setting up shop in safer waters. You will find us exceptionally eager to fund our own defense, as well as the teeth needed for an offense."

A flick of his wrist signaled for the man to proceed.

​

 

[Damos Rennar]

Damos did what he always did in these moments; he went quiet and listened.

Years spent serving within the Bothan Spynet and the Royal Intelligence Service of Naboo had instilled in him a patience that, even now, occasionally surprised him.

There was only the soft, persistent tapping of his fingers against the datapad resting across his lap, notes being made almost subconsciously for the Security Council later. It entertained him slightly; the opinions committed to the tablet were considerably more diplomatic than those passing through his head.

For now, however, he remained quiet.

Until, with a very obvious ripple of his fur, Damos leaned forward and gave the soft grunt that usually indicated his intention to speak.

“Tapani and the Jedi Enclaves of the Core are outside the jurisdiction I can evaluate.” He shifted slightly in his chair as the datapad was slid onto the table and away from his lap. Its screen went dark. “I’m not here to discuss the need for more ships in a defensive picket. The High Republic, at its core, maintains a defensive fleet. That is the premise.” His fin gers folded together. “Fast-moving defensive walls designed to keep the threat out.”

Damos had a particular talent for making every sentence sound as though it should have been the end of the conversation. This time, it wasn't.

“However.” His attention settled properly upon those across the table. “Entertain an old Bothan and a young King for a moment.”

There was the faintest pull at the corner of his mouth as he gave Aurelian a wry look. The King of Naboo knew Damos' opinions well enough. He knew that the Bothan no longer believed the defence of the Republic could remain their only priority, regardless of what the Senate wished to hear.

“What can you put on this table that would allow me to hypothetically change that tone?” The word hypothetically carried considerably more weight than it had any right to.

Damos leaned back.

“In a perfect, entirely hypothetical galaxy, suppose I were to sit here and offer you the combined shipbuilding prowess of Druckenwell, Nubia and Corellia.”

The room had a sudden shift of weight, it was a big bargaining chip that had suddenly been placed on the table, most companies would murder just for the chance at a portion of Corellia, let alone the whole thing and two other planets of equal production ability.

“I’m not interested in another picket. I don’t need another wall or a fleet designed to arrive after someone has already decided to test us.” His eyes narrowed slightly.

“What I would like to know is what you can give me that ensures Tapani does not happen again?” A smirk as he leant back. “Within the Republic or without.”

His fingers tapped once against the darkened datapad springing into life.

“Because if I am going to convince the Senate to build another thousand ships, I have very little interest in building a thousand of them as shields.” The Bothan's expression remained perfectly neutral. “I want to know, hypothetically of course, if you can build me the sword instead.”


Tags: Aurelian Veruna Alban Roble