Dominion The Deal (No Deal?) | THR Dominion of the Mokk IX Hex

[Saroyan Dovryn]

Objective: Diplomatic Relations
Location: Former GA Embasy, Alliance Quarter, Aurelios, Mokk IX
Attire: Council “Uniform”
Tag: Verity Stuyveris | Dominique Vexx | Elian Abrantes | | Ra'a'mah | Vulpesen | OPEN
Dialogue Key: Saroyan Dovryn, Serene Valis, Cassian Vered, Lythea Marris, Darius Keth

Director Valis inclined her head slightly as Senator Stuyveris finished, expression composed and attentive rather than argumentative. ”You’ll find little push back from me Senator,” she gave a coy smirk and looked over to the other Mokkans engaged in negotiations with the Chancellor and the new comer from Veradune. “A system only endures when it can adapt in both directions without losing its core obligations. The Republic’s strength, as you’ve outlined, is precisely that balance—shared principles upheld alongside genuine plurality.”

A faint pause followed, measured rather than uncertain. Serene nodded in the direction of the others, ”This meeting is for them. Mostly Keth and Dovryn. My decision to vote for full membership was made before any of us entered this room. But Saroyan needs to argue every point, she wants complete Mokkan independence, she will try her best to get as close to that as possible. Keth…he needs a defense fleet. Anything that isn’t the Mandalorians will likely stop any argument he puts forth in the end. Vered is here to make sure things stay productive, he doesn’t really have any skin in the game. Marris will vote with the credits. The Republic will get some sort of deal with Mokk IX. I am sure about that. How fiercely Saroyan argues will determine what level of coordination will exist between the Directorate and the Republic.”

Lythea Marris had been silent longer than Saroyan’s final statement deserved—at least by the standards of most rooms where decisions were made. But Lythea did not rush silence. She studied it.

Her blonde hair was neatly arranged, but not rigid; there was a looseness to her posture that suggested confidence rather than carelessness. Where Saroyan measured structure and Keth measured risk, Lythea measured flow—of credits, goods, tariffs, and leverage points that most people only noticed when they broke.

When she finally spoke, it was with a tone that sat somewhere between curiosity and calculation. “I find myself less concerned with whether Mokk IX can integrate,” she said, glancing briefly toward Ra’a’mah and then the Chancellor, “and more interested in what integration actually costs in practice.”

A faint tilt of her head followed, as though she were already running projections behind her eyes. “Trade access, interstellar routing priority, credit stabilization through Republic-backed markets—those are obvious advantages. Any expansionist economist would see them immediately.”

A pause, slight and deliberate. “But advantages are never free. So I have to ask plainly—what does the Republic expect in return once the doors are opened?”

Her gaze sharpened a fraction, not hostile, but precise. “Taxation frameworks, compliance thresholds, arbitration jurisdiction—these are not abstract concerns for my office. They determine whether Mokkan industry expands or becomes slowly absorbed into someone else’s accounting structure.”

She tapped a finger lightly against the table, as if marking invisible ledger lines only she could see. “And more specifically,” she added, eyes shifting toward Vexx, then Saroyan, “how are non-core worlds treated when revenue disputes arise? Does Mokk IX retain meaningful control over its own trade law, or does it simply become another node inside a pre-existing regulatory lattice?”

There was no accusation in her voice—only evaluation. Lythea leaned back slightly, folding her hands. “I am not opposed to joining a larger market system. Quite the opposite, in fact—I find the Republic’s commercial network… compelling.”

A thin, almost appreciative smile touched her mouth. “But I will not recommend structural expansion into a system where we trade autonomy for access without understanding the exact price of both.”

Darius Keth did not speak immediately. When he did, it was not with the cadence of debate, but with the clipped precision of someone used to evaluating threat envelopes rather than negotiating them.

The dark-haired Director of Security & Defense Grid Oversight leaned forward slightly, forearms resting against the edge of the table. His eyes did not linger on ideals, nor on economic theory. They tracked outcomes. Pressure points. Failure conditions.

“I am hearing a lot of language about integration, diversification, and leverage,” Keth said evenly. “What I am not hearing is anything that survives a sustained assault.”

A brief glance flicked toward Ra’a’mah, then settled fully on Chancellor Vexx. “So I will be direct.” His tone hardened, not with hostility, but with clarity sharpened by responsibility. “If Mokk IX aligns itself with either the Republic or any external security partner—be it Mandalorian, Republic Fleet assets, or otherwise—you are effectively placing this system on the map of everyone who takes issue with those powers.”

A pause. He did not soften it. “And Sith attention is not theoretical. It is procedural. It follows patterns. It escalates. And when it arrives, it does not test defenses—it breaks them.” His fingers tapped once against the table, a restrained, controlled gesture. “Our planetary grids are not designed for prolonged orbital suppression warfare. We do not have the redundancy for sustained bombardment, nor the fleet capacity to contest hyperspace interdiction if a blockade is established.”

Now his gaze sharpened further, locking onto Ra’a’mah first. “You speak of layered dependencies and diversified partnerships. So I will ask you plainly—what does your model look like when one of those layers becomes hostile?”

Then to Vexx, equally steady. “And you speak of protection, fleets, and deterrence. If Mokk IX is brought into your sphere of responsibility—even indirectly—what guarantees exist that response times will be sufficient before this world becomes a casualty of someone else’s war?”

The room seemed to narrow slightly under his words, not from volume, but from implication. Keth straightened, expression unyielding. “I am not questioning intent. I am questioning survivability.” A final beat. “Because from where I sit, if we make the wrong arrangement, Mokk IX does not ‘compete’ in galactic politics. It becomes a strategic demonstration.”

Saroyan Dovryn listened in silence for several moments after Ra’a’mah’s remarks and the Chancellor’s response had settled across the chamber. The brunette Director of the Data Vault & Communications Authority did not rush to fill the space—her stillness carried the weight of someone parsing every implication rather than reacting to any single sentence.

When she finally spoke, her tone was measured, almost detached, but not dismissive. “I find myself in agreement with several points raised,” Saroyan said quietly. “Isolation, in its purest form, is rarely sustainable when applied to systems rather than principles. I am, however, inclined to preserve maximum autonomy for Mokk IX wherever possible.”

Her gaze flicked briefly toward Ra’a’mah, acknowledging the argument without fully embracing its framing. “Your assessment of distributed dependencies is… sound. Controlled diversification reduces exposure to singular points of failure. That is a fact the Data Vaults have observed repeatedly in external network collapses.”

A pause—slightly longer this time. “Still. Diversification does not require submission to consolidation. A deal, yes. Structured engagement with external powers, yes. But full integration into any single governing bloc is not the only path available.”

She leaned back fractionally, fingers interlacing at the table. “As Chancellor Vexx has noted, systems endure when they are stable. I would argue stability can also be achieved through carefully bounded agreements rather than membership.”

Her attention shifted, briefly, to Keth as he raised concerns about security. “On that matter—I share Director Keth’s reservations. Mokk IX is not engineered for prolonged siege conditions, and any arrangement that draws Sith attention without a proportional deterrent framework is… structurally unacceptable.” That word—structurally—landed with intent.

Finally, Saroyan’s eyes returned to the group at large, her voice softening only slightly. “So I will state my position plainly. I support engaging the Republic. I support formalized agreements. I support trade, communications integration, and defensive coordination where necessary.”

A faint pause, just long enough for the distinction to be felt. “But I do not currently support full absorption into any external state apparatus. Not yet.”

She glanced down at the datapad in front of her, as if the matter were already being logged rather than debated. “However… I agree with the premise that Mokk IX cannot remain entirely insular indefinitely. Which is why I am prepared to recommend that we pursue a formal partnership framework first.”

Her tone remained calm—almost clinical—but the implication was unmistakable: the door was already opening, just not all the way. And for anyone listening closely, it would not be difficult to infer that Saroyan Dovryn was no longer speaking from theory alone—she was speaking from a conclusion already reached.

Cassian Vered had been listening the way he always did—like a man holding a ledger no one else could see, balancing inputs that were not strictly financial, political, or military, but all of them at once. The balding Arbiter of Continuity finally adjusted his posture, steepling his fingers with a slow, deliberate patience that suggested he had no interest in rushing any conclusion already being pressured into existence.

“When this group was convened,” Cassian began, voice calm and unraised, “it was not to decide Mokkan destiny. It was to gather informational clarity before any irreversible commitments are made.” He let that sit for a moment, allowing it to subtly reframe the intensity of the preceding exchanges.

“To that end, I believe we are achieving our purpose. Perhaps more successfully than anticipated.” His eyes moved across the table—Saroyan’s structural caution, Lythea’s expansionist curiosity, Keth’s operational concern, Verity’s legal framing, and then briefly to Ra’a’mah, as if weighing her presence as an external variable rather than a participant.

A faint exhale through the nose—thoughtful, not dismissive. He leaned back slightly, hands lowering to rest together. “The Ra’a’mah’s framework is… intriguing.” A measured pause. “Not as a replacement for governance, and not as a substitute for security architecture, but as a transitional model. One that permits exposure to larger systems without immediate absorption into them.”

The Arbiter gave a bit of a sigh. ”Whatever the opinion of this group here, powerful as they may be. The remainder of the High Council will receive a briefing and from there make recommendations to the entire Directorate for voting. That being the case. Is there any reason to think that agreements with the Republic and,” the Arbiter looked to Ra for a moment, ”…the Protectorate as I’ve heard it called in whispers, need to be exclusive of the other? What I mean to say is…Is there a possibility that the Republic and Protectorate can work together in looking to attain freedom in the galaxy? And security from the Sith menace that never seems to fade for long. You have different approaches, but a common goal…”

​

 

[Reima Vitalis]

PILOT TYPE: RAF
CURRENT SCORE: 3 Lead | 3 Strikes (3 Lead from previous leg, 3 strikes from Natural 2 in previous post)
CURRENT LEG: Bounced Out
CHOSE LINE: N/A

The Gilt Scatter lived up to its name; not merely bright, the leg was treacherous with brightness, a field of broken glare where sunlight struck exposed seams of gold and other metals and was refracted in hard flashes that made distance incalculable and angles uncertain. One instant the asteroids were stone and the next they were throwing knives of light. Reima, like every pilot briefed for the Hesperidean Run, had known that was likely before launch.

Knowing it didn't make being defeated by it any easier.

She had flown the opening leg quite well, earning one of her best times to date. Reima had let the ship go where her instincts put it, checked only when forced. The Belt crowded her now in dancing layers, the cockpit canopy flaring -- dimming -- flaring as she cut in and out of one pocket of refracted light after another. Her jaw felt tight and her eyes ached with the discipline of forcing them to remain open even as the blast of Adytum's light flashed in them. Somewhere ahead, beyond the worst of the Gilt Scatter, the field would loose and the next leg would begin.

She only had to get through these last moments cleanly.

Only.

A mineral-rich stone turned under her port side and threw a sheet of gold-white brilliance straight across the canopy. For a heartbeat Reima's world disappeared into light. The pilot hissed a very un-Galidraani curse between gritting teeth and corrected by feel that which she could not correct by sight, angling starboard to clear what she had taken for a wider seam between two tumbling misshapen rocks.

Only it wasn't wider; it only looked that way when washed out by the glare of the sun.

The realization was both sudden and much too late, and Reima felt the cold and particular shame of knowing the mistake before the body had finished making it, but too late to alter it. The asteroid on her right was rotating faster than she had thought and the gap was closing. Unbidden, the ghostly projection of a route she might have taken a half-second earlier, another correction that might have saved the run a full second earlier, appeared before her.

Because she was Reima Vitalis, she saw these alternative realities at once while still being -- damnably -- trapped inside the wrong one.

"No," she spat. "No, no, no, no-no-no -- "

Straining at the flight yoke, Reima hauled the fighter over. The ship answered, as it always did, but the Belt replied. The starboard stabilizer clipped stone with an impact she felt more than heard, a bone-deep jolt that snapped through the frame of the fighter, translated up along the stick, along the stiffness of her arms and into her shoulders. It wasn't catastrophic; in any ordinary craft, in any ordinary race, she might have fought it still, fought it and won. But the Hesperidean Run was built differently.

The repulsor shield fired, and the matter was out of Reima's hands.

A violent snapping of blue-white bloom engulfed her craft as the repulsor hurled her out of the Belt. She tumbled free into open safety, her controls momentarily disabled to prevent her from struggling with the life-saving repulsor technology. Her comm channel crackled to life.

"Delta One, Hyperion control," said the overly officious voice of the controller. "We see you as clear of the belt. Hesperidean Run concluded. Controls unlocking in three... two... one. Do not attempt re-entry into the belt. Set course three three six for security beacon and follow green beacons back to HMV Hyperion."

Reima's jaw worked and she resisted the urge to slam her fist into the control panel. "Damn it," she muttered.

"Delta One, Hyperion control. Acknowledge," the controller insisted.

"Yes, yes," Reima muttered impatiently under her breath before keying her communicator. "Hyperion control, Delta One, acknowledge. Heading three three six, Delta One."

"Delta One, Hyperion control, stand proceed to beacon Green Zero One and prepare to rendezvous with recovery craft."

Recovery craft? Reima frowned. That wasn't typical. "Hyperion control, Delta One. Negative for recovery craft, the board is green. Repeat, craft is fully responsive. Delta One."

"Delta One, Hyperion control," came the response, slightly stiffer than before. "Stand by to rendezvous with recovery craft at beacon Green Zero One. They will take you in."

Ah. Princess Patrol, then. She acknowledged the instruction and proceeded toward the rendezvous location. Reima straightened in her seat, adjusted her crash webbing, Nothing hurt, other than her pride. That would only get worse when she returned to the ship and she'd have to walk back in front of people. Her first walk of shame as one of the ones walking it. Some of the other pilots would be kind, which Reima would hate. Some would try not to look amused, which she would hate more.

"Next time," she said to no one at all, her voice full of the kind of murderous intent that always steadied her.

 

[Ra'a'mah]

Ra'a'mah allowed the question to settle before answering, making no attempt to rush into the silence or treat the Arbiter's inquiry as a matter of ceremonial courtesy. It deserved genuine consideration, and more importantly, it deserved a response shaped for the realities of the room rather than the vanity of any single person within it.

Her gaze moved first to Cassian Vered, then across the assembled directors one by one, and only briefly to Chancellor Vexx before returning to the center of the chamber. When she finally spoke, her tone was calm and measured, carrying the kind of clarity that eased tension not by softening truth, but by refusing to inflame it further.

"Exclusivity is often overrated," she said, her voice steady and composed. "Particularly in matters of survival, where flexibility tends to prove more valuable than purity."

She allowed that thought the space to breathe before continuing, neither hurrying her point nor forcing it.

"Worlds positioned at crossroads rarely benefit from binding themselves so tightly to one model, one alliance, or one philosophy that they lose the ability to respond when circumstances inevitably change. Ideological purity is usually a luxury enjoyed by systems fortunate enough to be protected by distance, obscurity, or irrelevance."

Her attention shifted toward Director Keth, accompanied by a slight incline of her head that acknowledged the seriousness of his concerns without theatrics.

"Director Keth is entirely correct to prioritize survivability, because any arrangement that paints a strategic target upon a world without also providing layered response capacity, redundancy, and realistic deterrence is a poor strategy, no matter how elegant it may appear when written into a charter."

Then her gaze moved to Lythea Marris.

"Director Marris is equally correct that access granted without understanding its full cost is little more than regret deferred until a more inconvenient hour."

A faint trace of approval touched her expression before fading again into composed neutrality.

"And Director Dovryn is correct to be wary of autonomy surrendered carelessly, because history has a habit of demonstrating that powers freely given away are seldom returned in the same condition."

She allowed the balance of those acknowledgments to settle naturally, giving the room a moment to recalibrate around the fairness of her tone.

"So yes, Arbiter," she continued, "cooperation between the High Republic and the Protectorate is not only possible, but in certain regions and under certain pressures, it would be the most sensible course available."

Her hands folded lightly before her, the gesture relaxed but deliberate.

"The Republic offers scale, legitimacy, fleet depth, legal frameworks, market confidence, and the reassurance that comes from visible institutions capable of acting openly and with authority. Those are not minor assets, and they should not be dismissed as such."

Her eyes turned slightly toward Dominique.

"The Protectorate, by contrast, offers flexibility, speed, regional specialization, deniability where circumstances require it, tailored logistics, and the capacity to solve smaller or more immediate problems before they have time to become matters for senatorial procedure and prolonged debate."

There was no challenge in the comparison, only practical candor.

"One helps prevent storms through presence and institutional weight. The other is often better suited to navigating those storms once they have already formed."

A quiet pause followed before she continued.

"Mokk IX, as it stands today, does not appear to require absorption into any broader structure in order to survive or prosper immediately. What it requires is a range of options broad enough to preserve leverage and narrow enough to remain manageable."

Her gaze returned to the directors, steady and unhurried.

"If I were advising from purely practical interest, I would recommend a phased structure in which formal trade and communications agreements are established with the High Republic, limited defensive coordination is defined through clear triggers and enforceable response obligations, independent commercial compacts are negotiated with Protectorate carriers and infrastructure partners, and periodic review clauses remain entirely under Mokkan authority."

She inclined her head slightly, the motion subtle but firm.

"That approach would preserve sovereignty, expand markets, increase deterrence, and avoid the kind of immediate overcommitment that often becomes expensive to reverse later."

Then, with a slight softening of tone:

"It would also allow trust to be earned through performance rather than assumed through signatures."

Her eyes rested briefly on Verity.

"Senator Stuyveris is correct that adaptation must move in both directions if any structure expects to endure, because systems that survive over time do so not through rigidity, but through their ability to learn without losing themselves."

Then to Dominique.

"And Chancellor Vexx is equally correct that stability matters deeply, though stability assembled too quickly and without room for adjustment often proves brittle the moment real pressure is applied."

Her final words were offered to the room as a whole, carrying neither warning nor rebuke, only measured truth.

"The Sith thrive wherever fear forces rushed decisions, panicked commitments, and choices made for the sake of immediate comfort rather than long-term resilience. There is no reason for us to assist them by repeating that pattern ourselves."

She then allowed the silence to return, composed and patient, trusting thoughtful people to know what to do with it.

"In short, yes, I believe we can work together."

A faint, almost dry smile touched her lips. "The more difficult question, and perhaps the more important one, is whether everyone present is disciplined enough to prefer useful cooperation over the temptation of elegant rivalry."

Saroyan Dovryn Verity Stuyveris Dominique Vexx Vulpesen

 

[Dominique Vexx]

"A full Member would be expected to contribute its share of tax burden to the Republic, participate in a common framework of interstellar law to settle disputes off world, and publicly abide certain restrictions necessary to prevent certain galactic disputes from evolving further. There's no doubt about it, Director Marris, there is a certain amount of autonomy surrendered by joining a larger body. Which is why it is important that the larger body ensure it provides benefits to make what is given worthwhile." Of course, some trappings need only appear adhered to. Not that the Chancellor could openly say or even suggest as much. Not that Mokk IX had much to worry about; their well-structure system shouldn't find meeting the Charter's requirements strenuous at all.

"Let me also stress that while many references remain of the High Republic's origin from the Royal Naboo Republic, ladies and gentlemen," such as a lot of focus being on Naboo itself, "there are no 'core' worlds to the Republic. Are there worlds with greater economic output? Certainly." Only a fool would try to equate Denon to Parcelus Minor. "But those of more humble means are not squeezed dry by those with greater credit flow. In fact, the Republic has made efforts in many projects to ensure all worlds benefit from the Republic's shared success. Mokk Nine, by every metric, would be positioned to help support that system as it benefits from the credit-poor, but resource-rich worlds." Not everyone had the means to take advantage of what was on hand. Fortunately, others did. Deals had a way of working out in those situations.

"This shared success does not come from hand-outs or in wealth taxes, however. The Republic does not extort its own. Each Member is free to govern their world. However, it it vital that its chosen Representatives make their voice heard in the Senate when a Republic-wide initiative is submitted for participation. Join others of a cause. Help guide the development of the whole so that the system each of us supports supports each of us in turn."

Dominique's golden eyes slid over toward Keth when the man spoke up next.

"A very similar discussion was once had not that long ago," the Chancellor replied calmly. "When the Black Sun took advantage of a young Royal Republic and sought to press its military advantage along the Republic's Eastern borders. It stirred to action the construction of the Republic's modernized fleet, which continues to this day. Other worlds contributed their own ships to bolster our reserves until the initial construction of the unified space forces were finished." Dominique paused to smile. "That is all to say, Director Keth, we have invested in taking the security of our worlds with the utmost seriousness. We have countered the aggression of our rivals whenever and wherever they have sought to cross into our territory or harass our people." True, sometimes the hostile force had taken the field, but that was arguably always over contentious worlds far from having joined the Republic.

"Mokk Nine will share in the same assurances that support our economic and social programs. A unified force loses value if it becomes unwilling or unable to respond to instability -- how ever it is generated." Which was part of the cautionary note earlier regarding a less centralized, unified force. Arguably the same held for such decentralized groups, but if people weren't invested in one another did members stand to lose something in failing to meet their commitments? Which was why Dominique was not concerned about dependency. Entire systems were built on the dependency of its parts. "It is the sole function of a government to provide stability and uphold our commitments to all members. We must all be there for any other member; else, can we expect them to be there when we need them?"

In the next lull, Dominique took the opportunity to slowly look into the eyes of those present.

Dovryn was the next to raise topics to consideration. The most resistant Director to integrating Mokk Nine into a larger whole. Dominique listened as the woman soon briefly described a concept she was comfortable entertaining. Negotiations began somewhere and that was far from the worst place they could begin.

"The Republic would gladly welcome exploration of such a framework. We would iron out all the particulars to ensure neither side is dissatisfied with the responsibilities of such a partnership, and are satsified with the benefits each can offer the other," Dominique said once Saroyan finished.

Director Vered invited Ra'a'mah's comment, to which the Denonite listened to their comments in turn. Dominique's expression did not belie any emotion or countenance she did not want know, and thus retained a neutral if warm visage while parties spoke. What they had to say was hardly pertubing. Dominique was confident in time they'd see the value of forging stronger relations. There was, after all, a reason the Corporate Sector was known for its influence in the galaxy -- even if some made accusations of criminal activity. They should be mindful of being taken advantage of, but Mokk Nine, like Druckenwell, were hardly worlds prone to that. Certainly not with the representatives at the fore in the present day.

"The Sith also thrive where uncertainty, doubt, and hesitency reign." Dominique spread her hands. "A truly effective government must always strive to walk a path of moderation -- neither too slowly nor too quickly for the circumstances at hand. And to that, Mokk Nine has the opportunity to explore those circumstances."

"Toward that end, I would invite the Directorate to establish a short-term and long-term security agreement with the High Republic. We could station a few ships in your system for rapid response until any formal agreement is concluded. To stave off aggressors, such as the Sith." Similar to Alderaan, but Dominique could commit a great deal more given the proximity of Mokk IX to the Republic's territorial space. "And for the long-term, I would offer the Republic retain a few capital ships in your system. Not immediately in orbit, if you prefer, but near enough to act as a deterant. To allow your planetary security and our fleet to coordinate and get a sense for one another." It would allow them an opportunity to gather more data to make any decision on their satisfaction with the Republic's response capabilities. More importantly, it would allow them to actually respond. If the fleet had to stay outside of the system then they would be delayed in arriving and all those concerns about being invaded would be realized.

Dominique turned her head slightly and offered Ra'a'mah a smile. "The Republic doesn't seek exclusivity of its members. I see no reason the Directorate cannot pursue relations with the Protectorate so long as the people of Mokk Nine continue to thrive." Hopefully, a subtle way to reinforce the fact the Republic wasn't one for dictators and suppression of the People. Not that the Protectorate was known for that, but one polite barb deserved another.

Saroyan Dovryn | Ra'a'mah | Verity Stuyveris | Vulpesen​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

DEAL OR NO DEAL | MOX IV DOMINION
INVENTORY: Jedi Robes, Lightsaber
NPC: BB-Model Astromech "Chip"
TAGS: Andromeda Demir | Reid Brimarch

"My older brother" Balun smiled at the mention of Makai Dashiell , though his smile faltered somewhat at the mention of a collapse on Bassadro, "Unfortunately, I can't say I'm aware of the events on Bassadro. I've seen my brother since, but I hope there were no casualties?" he asked, apprehension in his words as he hoped not to hear otherwise.

The relationship between him and Makai had been unusually tense of late, due to their different paths in life and the fact that Balun's own son, Kellan Dashiell , was due to start walking with the Jedi Order of the High Republic. It was only natural that, with the temporary distance currently standing between the two older Dashiell's, current affairs of the Galaxy could have slipped through the cracks of their few and far between discussions of late.

When Doctor Volante spoke in answer to Balun's concerns, the possibility of potential cave-ins within the tunnels they were presently treading, accompanied by other teams, some just out of sight but within earshot, while others were deeper in, the Jedi Knight could not help but feel Makai Dashiell would have been the better suited of their family to be accosting the rockbed here.

"I wish I could say that I shared my brother's passion for minerals, alas, the Force will provide where my knowledge is otherwise found lacking", he chuckled softly, a self-deprecating remark, yet one made to lighten the mood between the three of them, given the topic of discussion.

Dr. Volante pointed out a few other areas and described the efforts taken to prevent collapse. "Now -- are you three more interested in the historical discoveries, or were you going to take crystal samples to see if they are compatible for use in a lightsaber? Or is this more an exploratory journey?"

"I would be most interested in what historical finds have been made thus far, to be honest. I had heard that these ruins possibly predate the origin of the Jedi, thus anything we might learn from the archaeological finds here would surely please our Master Archivist and the Circle of Knowledge on Naboo".

Former Mentor: Ala Quin
Jedi Apprentice: Cerys Dyn
Major Faction: The High Republic
Sub-Faction: Jhaessa Prime
Conglomerate: Dashiell Incorporated™
Subsidiary Company: Dashiell Retrofit™​

"Speech"
'Thought'​