Private The Hand of Friendship

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

It hadn't been long since Garrion had publicly broadcast his existence to the wider galaxy, on the steps of Theed Palace no less. There he spoke of openly opposing the Sith, called out slimy bureaucrats for their lack of interest in the well-being of the general public, and made his intentions clear to support anyone under the umbrella of his greater cause: Opposing the Sith and their cohorts. Whether that be through more traditional means of open warfare, or more subversive action. Regardless, Garrion was looking to help so long as it meant destroying the greater enemy.

However, it'd come as a bit of a surprise when the old man found himself being tracked down for a private discussion. He supposed he should've seen it coming, that someone would eventually come to him instead of vice versa, yet, what surprised him for the most part was the fact he'd even been found to begin with, so quickly anyway. His footprint was minimal at best, physical and digital. Still, it was far easier to have a digital conversation rather than a face to face one, yet, was much riskier, being as Garrion had no means of verifying if the person he was even communicating with was even who they claimed to be.

Then, it occurred to Garrion: He'd been pondering over this for nearly an hour by this point, staring down at the message on his datapad that'd been driving him mad:

"Hi. I like your style. Call back."

That was it. Well- of course there was a bunch of contact information attached, and several attached documents detailing something about a "Farworlds Alliance" and various other mentions of entities Garrion had little to no knowledge of, yet, sounded all the more intriguing as he mused over ideas of forging alliances. This was as good a place to start as any, so, without anymore hesitation, Garrion decided to see if the messenger was as eager for his response as he was for it to lead to something promising.

To his surprise, there was an answer. Eyes widening briefly, Garrion composed himself as the first words escaped him:

"Uhm, H-hello?" He coughed, straightening up despite the inability for him to be seen. "Hello?" He asked again, more formally.

Braze

 

[Braze]

Tags: Garrion Der Rædwulf

​

A cloaked figure was waiting patiently on the other end of the line.

"You wanted to know who is already fighting. Here I am.

I hold no love for the High Republic's current state, nor for those who have mistaken caution for virtue while suffering festers beyond the comfort of their borders, content in dressing cowardice in the language of restraint.

Still less do I care for false Jedi who chase applause beneath borrowed titles, polishing their own legends while bending the knee before the very Sith they profess to oppose; those who would condemned others for calling the Sith what they are, scolded those willing to carry the war to them, then abandoned the Order themselves when there were laurels to be gathered beneath a banner of their own.

It is easy to preach patience when someone else is bleeding. Easier still to kneel before the Sith when it is convenient, then rise later and call oneself courageous once the audience is watching.

Some seem far more interested in being seen as heroes than in bearing the cost of actually becoming one. I have little patience for those who discover conviction only when they can claim sole credit for possessing it.

If your words at Theed were sincere, then perhaps we have reason to speak. I have no interest in kneeling beneath another banner, but neither do I see wisdom in those fighting the same enemy remaining strangers to one another."