The Hand or the Sword

[Progflaw99]

​

​

Hyperspace​

Coursing along the Braxant Run​

FIV Deliberate, Gozanti-class Cruiser​

​

Two weeks. Or at least roughly that. He'd begun to lose track of the days since the envoy had departed the capital world of Dosuun. Stirring from his mindless wandering he picked up the datapad from the arm-rest in the lounge, eyes poring over the small screen. He'd gone over it a thousand times, but one thousand and one could make all the difference. If nothing else, he was thorough - it was part of why he'd been brought along, or so he imagined. Dante Calgar, Moff and Minister of Security - it still sounded strange as he played back the words in his mind. Strange but fitting. It had been a long road, one he'd not originally embarked upon but nevertheless stumbled down until he found himself driven to its end, though truthfully the once stumble had become a run, a sprint even for the man.

It had been a quiet affair, his assignment as Minister of Security. The previous occupant had passed away unexpectedly, by what means was anyone's guess. Heart failure, bad genetics, maybe even an allergic reaction - the details of which had yet to be officially released. The First Order was an Empire however and the gears yet turned, cogs mercilessly grinding from one thing to the next and Dante had found himself inserted in her place. Unfortunate though the woman's passing was, it also allowed him an intimate opportunity to mingle with the highest in command - The Grand Moff Natasi Fortan, The Supreme Commander Asharad Graush, and a handful of others. He'd never been great with names though in his new position he would be required to be meticulous about them. It was an adjustment he would make. He knew there were at least 4 TIE pilots assigned to their vessel, though their names were a mystery.

Only two hours. At least according to the datapad's calculations. That's how long it would take before they reached Bastion, the central hub of the newly formed Sith Ascendancy. Had he been any less it might have sent a shiver down his spine, it wasn't every day you came face to face with men who wielded the power of gods. It was a fine thing that Dante didn't believe that of them, he'd seen heroes broken and bloodied, titans brought to heal - he'd seen gods killed. These men were no more gods then those who had come before and perished but even so Moff Calgar was no fool. It would be folly to cross them, at least now.

For months the Sith had been gathering, consolidating, even many who'd sought protection after the fall of the One Sith had left from First Order holdings in search of something more natural. The Ren - according to his understanding were the main culprit of the Sith's malcontent, though to say that was all would be false. Sieger Ren, the Supreme leader himself seemed to harbor resentment towards the Sith, no doubt a deeper story there to be told.. but not to the likes of him. His responsibility was simple - represent the security interests of the First Order, and to work with the politicians to work out an accord that might bring the two closer together despite their geographical divide. Dante had a feeling it would be their philosophical divide however which drove a wedge between them.

With a sigh, he set down the datapad once more on the arm rest of his chair and eyeballed the lounge. It was early - too early for the majority of the group to be awake. Dante always found it easiest to read in those early waking hours, the quiet that came with it, and the aroma of the dark coffee. It was serene almost, the humming of the ship's engines as they continued on. The others would arrive soon and then.. Then things would get interesting. It wasn't unusual for a small vessel like theirs to go unmolested but as they began to near Sith Ascendancy space the likelihood grew exponentially. Mildly uneasy, Dante drummed his fingers across the chair and took a long sip of his dark coffee as he waited for the others to filter in.

​

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Amit Nykoan"] | [member="Asharad Graush"]​

[member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Jianna Raas"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

​

[member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ignus"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Vengeance"]​

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Reverance"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The steady thuk, thuk, thuk of Natasi's feet on the treadmill all but drowned out the sound of the newscast she was watching -- or rather, reading, her eyes scanning the closed captions as they scrolled along the bottom of the broadcast. Avalonia Broadcasting System was the brainchild of her childhood friend Hector Finn-Camden, and had come to prominence following the Kaeshana affair, when their enterprising young reporter Lydia Finn-Camden had found herself stranded in a warzone. The ratings had been spectacular, and since then they had become one of the most popular stations in the home territories, second only to the state-run media. The young woman's face appeared on the screen a moment later, looking uncomfortable as she held a squirming tentacle of some kind over a bowl with a pair of chopsticks. She looked dubiously into the camera as the caption appeared: First Order: Uncovered - with Lydia Finn-Camden.

"Not too uncovered," Natasi mused to herself, glancing down at the timer on the treadmill. It beeped a moment later, and she set it for five more minutes before picking up her communicator. "Clem - you can come in now," she said, and her principal private secretary entered as Natasi powered the treadmill into a walk rather than a running pace. Sweat poured down the Grand Moff as she continued her cooldown. "Do we have anything more on Bharati?"

"The Coroner's report was inconclusive. They think -- well, I think what we have is what we're going to get."

Natasi reached for her water bottle. "I don't like it. She was only thirty-eight, and thirty-eight year old women don't just drop dead for no reason. She was in good health. We vetted her records, for Balance sake," said the Grand Moff firmly before taking a cold swig from her water bottle. "Exert some pressure, would you?"

"Yes, ma'am," said Clémence. "I will."

"I also want to add some things to my in-depth intelligence briefing. Work with -- what's-his-name -- " Clémence made to supply her with the name, [member="Dante Calgar"], but Natasi kept going. " -- I know what his name is. Tell him I need to be briefed on what's happening in the Pacanth Reach. They're dragging their feet on implementing our policy and we have really limited visibility into their operations there. I need to know more. I also need to bring Mustafar and Kaeshana to the top of our briefing -- as a matter of fact, get Graush in on them as well. Why have three meetings when we can have one."

"Understood," said her private secretary.

"Remind me why we didn't take the Concordia," Natasi said as she shut the treadmill off and finally climbed off it, looking around her rooms. They were comfortable but not quite what she was used to. The FIV Concordia was equal parts embassy and battleship, with her suite being an oasis of tranquility and luxury. This -- well -- not so much.

"The idea was that diplomatic protocol not yet having been established, the Concordia might have been seen as an aggressive act."

"And yet, we have [member="Asharad Graush"] aboard," Natasi mused, a tint of humor over her voice. "We're lucky to have him on our side. I'm going to take a shower," said Natasi, before pausing to take another drink from her bottle. "Then I'll make the rounds, see who's awake."

So it was that twenty minutes later, the Grand Moff emerged from her stateroom in her uniform, hair pulled back in a serviceable, if severe, bun at the base of her skull. She made her way to the lounge with Clémence to get a cup of coffee. As she turned towards the door she spotted [member="Dante Calgar"], as usual skulking in the shadows. She regarded him for a few moments before walking across the room to rest her hand on the back of the chair opposite Calgar. "Good morning, Moff Calgar. May I sit?"

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

Ishana's eyes focused on the instruments that sat on the black dashboard. Their red lights were striking against the gleam of the black, the Balmorran's breathing held steady as she kept her hands on the controls. She had been taken off leave and placed back on active duty, worse she was sent on a quiet run. Brown orbs glanced over to the right and then the left, and then centre again. In the stillness of her cockpit, the pilot dared not to let her thoughts stray, even if she half-wondered where they pulled the ancient Gozanti from. Best not to question it she thought to herself, "time check." The pilot asked, which was perhaps the fourth or fifth time she's asked, and that wasn't normal for those who knew the pilot best. It wasn't like Ishana to wonder how long a ride would take. Not that she didn't want to be here, but she was nervous, as nervous as anyone who had a history of getting bunked down in rank for infractions might be on a run like this.

Almost immediately she wanted to be back on that beach on Makeb with Kaalia. Kaal. The pilot quirked an eyebrow that was concealed by her helmet and looked at her dash, it was void of any photographs of the redheaded woman. Gotta fix that she thought, and resisted the urge to pat herself down for a photo. Sorry princess, she let the single though echo between her ears. Songbird - her call sign, she almost wondered if it should've been squawk bird instead. She swallowed hard her thoughts flew back to Castameer, Omega as most called it which in her opinion was a bit of a stretch. It wasn't an end, well - maybe it was, she closed her eyes briefly and recalled the vivid moments from that battle. The Rae Sloane bowing before death, and the pilots her pilots, their pilots each one that fell. Each one that had perished left an imprint in her mind, one that she worked hard to drink away. And in the sobering moments in the cockpit, on this ride to wherever it was, they were escorting this ship... it all came to ahead. Maybe this was why she kept on her old ways, it was so much easier to forget it all. So much easier to pretend, rather than be haunted by the ghosts of her past.

The ever moving reflection of space against her dashboard danced across her black helmet. The sound of her breathing, the respirator was all that she could hear and then the screams. Her days with the One Sith, her days learning to fly and the many crashes that happened in between. How many times had she cheated death? Twice? Surely he would call for her again and this time, this time it would mean something. It was just too quiet for her liking, she needed noise but knew better than to speak right now. What in the ever loving feth was wrong with the Balmorran? Ishana wondered this most what had happened to her, but she knew the answer already. It was who, who had happened to her, Kaalia Voldaren. A Kro Varian woman who at this moment perhaps held the most precious thing Ishana never meant to give, her heart. The brunette's hands tightened their grip on the controls, readjusting their hold between the fabric of her gloves and her hand. So many thoughts ran rampant through her head, so many memories. And all the woman wanted to do, was run away from it all.

She was good at that, wasn't she? Running away from it all. The story of her life... Ishana's eyes once more gleamed across the dashboard hoping for something new to crop up on her sensors. But they did not, and instead, she was once again met with machinations.

​

[member="Jianna Raas"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Pierce Fortan III"]​

 

[Asharad Graush]

Supreme Commander... Asharad Graush.

The title fit, the Sith Lord had surmised when he woke up in the severely dimly lit room that had been designated as his quarters. It was still early, and they were scheduled to arrive at Bastion within the next couple of hours. His teeth grated upon each other, almost as if in irritation.

The Sith Ascendancy was a coalition of the Sith Lords that he had met back on Malachor V, or so it seemed. The likes of Carnifex were among them, an Epicanthix Sith Lord who had named himself Arch-King over the Pacanth Reach. Suppose that's why when some annoying droid attempted to ambush him on Kaeshana, it mentioned the Dark Lord's name - as if it were relevant to A'sharad's self.

Then, on Malachor the Sith had disregarded the idea of allying with the First Order entirely. And now here they were, The First Order reaching out to the Sith Ascendancy to make... Friends? The Sith Lord had reservations, naturally. He was Sith, and he knew the motivations of Sith. Certainly, should the Alliance be destroyed, there would be those who'd think it best to assault the First Order. Would an alliance truly dampen such a mentality?

Questions he had to ask himself as the Supreme Commander...

No, the Sith couldn't be trusted.

Swinging his legs off of the bed, the Sith Lord lowered himself to the flooring of the relatively small room.

Once taking up his position, he lowered to the floor, arms bending as his chest ran parallel to the floor. Pushing against the floor, his arms began to extend as they straightened.

Omega, Kaeshana, Zarnathea, Annaj, Barkhesh, Skor, Mephout, Endor, G'rho, even Dosuun in the reclamation of the Imperial Capital.

Most of the battles were long and grueling. Kaeshana especially.

Another push-up.

They couldn't fail today.

 

[Progflaw99]

Hawkish eyes followed the circuitry to its termination behind another small surface. That's where the problem lie, though getting to it was another matter entirely. The flight suit clad figure having taken a knee sighed. It wasn't that he didn't trust droids, they'd proven their worth time and time again and in most cases the work could be done in faster fashion and with better quality than most self repairs - most.

"Hey, come over here for a second Bender - see if you can reach this."​

​

Nils had been working on minor repairs to the TIE/sf since they'd left and this was the last thing he'd identified as being sub par. Where the console and control surfaces were located there'd been a weak connection deep inside the panel itself. Truth be told, he was bored. Unlike most patrol runs, this mission was much more. Due to their timetable he spent far less time actually flying patrols than twiddling his thumbs in his quarters or venting his pent up anxiety in the small gym aboard the cruiser. With only an hour left of their journey, the pilots had been tasked to pre-flight prep. It wouldn't due to be off their game. As Nils rose, the small BB unit rolled forward, retractable arm quickly twisting and with an electrical shock, re-connecting the loose cables deep within the console. As the droid went to work replacing the panels he'd removed, Nils keyed up his mic. He had yet to hear any of his fellow pilots check in.

:: Striker Flight this is Striker One. Status Check. ::​

​

He would wait for their reports as he adjusted his flight harness. Typically starting with pilot status, systems status, weapons status, the pre-flight checks were crucial, especially when you knew you could be flying into a tense situation. It could mean the difference between defending yourself or ending up in a mashed ball of metal and fire.

[member="Jianna Raas"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"] | [member="Pierce Fortan III"]​

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

Ascendant Circle Hall
City of Ravelin, Capital of Bastion

The previously empty hall was rapidly filling, the circular chamber alive with the sound of robes rustling, whispers exchanged between dark-clothed figures, a general sense of anticipation in the air that spoke to the curiousity of those gathered. Rarely were the members of the Circle asked to gather at such short notice: whether planning their campaigns, administering the laws of the Ascendancy, or meeting to discuss more esoteric issues, rare was it that such a thing was not scheduled. Emergency session had a ring of urgency to it, and the hall was perhaps more alive than usual as a consequence.

The round auditorium had multiple levels: a sunken central circle where the Lords might gather and be seated to discuss issues concerning the Ascendancy, with several higher tiers where observers might stand. The rule for Circle meetings was simple enough: Lords might sit and speak as they so wished, but all others in attendance would not interject. Only Lords had voices within the chamber: the presence of Knights and Acolytes existed only to allow them to observe the ruling body of the Ascendancy, that they might learn from it, and aspire to reach it. A Sith principle, that: to dangle power before those who sought to reach it, but always keeping it just a little beyond their grasp.

The soft lighting served to illuminate the central circle of the room and bring it into focus: arrayed with chairs for those who wished them, a holoprojector collapsed into the floor that could raise up if required, but that would otherwise be covered with a thin plating that could be walked upon. The sides of the room were cast in deep shadow, so that those choosing to observe might be left concealed, their presence no distraction to the Lords.

[member="Krest"] had summoned the Circle to order, though Tirdarius had little idea as to why. The head of the Ascendancy's Intelligence services had a tendency of briefing the Circle on a regular basis, so for him to summon the others to meet suggested that he had learned something that needed them to act upon quickly: perhaps they would need to deploy their forces to deal with an incursion, perhaps there was a change in the winds politically that would require agents and operatives to be dispatched. There were many possible reasons for their gathering, but Krest had kept that to himself with the summons, so speculation was all that was left to the Lords.

The sense of anticipation in the Force was palpable: for a room of disciplined Sith, there was an interesting undercurrent of tension present. It could not be called nervousness, for such a thing was anathema to their kind, but there was a clear restlessness among those gathered. Krest had best present his reasons for this summoning soon, the Sith Lord thought darkly, irked at having his own meditations disturbed without cause. He sighed softly, glancing around the room with a cold expression, then came to his feet.

"Silence within the Hall! Let this meeting be called to order," he intoned, projecting his usually soft voice with a little more force than usual, so that it would be heard by all. The observers knew this to be the signal to cease their chatter, for the Circle had issues to discuss and did not deserve their contemplations interrupted by those who served. "You have something for us, Lord Krest?"

| [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Ignus"] | [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Vengeance"] | [member="Nick Imura"] | [member="Darth Raxis"] |​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

BB-10R2 looked down from the top of the ladder chute as Pierce worked on his control panel. There was a good deal of back and forth on the part of the droid and its master. Pierce's temper was coming to a head as the deadline for the fighter to be ready for launch approached, and what had begun as a simple button replacement had resulted in him having to remove the entire communications console cover, and exist elbows-deep in the wiring. The fact that he had spent the last several days cooped up in this ridiculous excuse for a transport did not help matters.

Least helpful of all was his cousin Natasi's presence. Bloody hell.

"When we get back to base, we're putting it straight back to factory settings," Pierce shouted up at BB-10R2, who chittered a challenging question back to the Captain. "I don't care a fig for your .0023% efficiency improvements! Look at me! Do I look .0023% more efficient to you? I'm lucky I'm not electrocuted!" The droid made a rude noise. "When I get out of here, Bartoo, I swear to God -- " He fell silent as his communicator chirped with [member="Nils Brenner"]'s call for check-in, then responded to the call:

::Striker One, this is Striker Three. Status Report: we are completing pre-flight check and will be ready for departure on time::​

"Throw me that manual," Pierce called. "I'll do it my bloody self." The book came down the ladder chute with perhaps a bit more velocity than was necessary, banging Pierce on the forehead.

Bartoo had gotten a lot less fun since drinking in combat was outlawed.

​

[member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Jianna Raas"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

 

[Alleycat]

This was a proud moment for the dark-skinned Riflorian. Jianna Rass' hard work and high marks had been noticed by her superiors as the pilot officer was called up to the "show" from doing routine patrol sweeps along the Cerean Reach; the trade route that ran right past her homeworld. Today's mission was of a delicate nature with diplomacy in mind though it could easily turn to aggressive negotiations with members of the Sith Ascendancy so one needed to prepare for the worst yet hope for the best she was told in the pre-sorte briefing. And that, "Curls" would do.

Callsigns were usually unique and given by others. The young pilot officer had been dubbed Curls by her fellow cadet's while training at the academy's flight school due to her ebony corkscrew hair that seemingly went in all directions unless contained somehow. Right now under her flight helmet, Jianna could feel one of those said curls hanging down teasingly ticking her long dark eyelashes that outlined her striking sea green eyes. It was irritating, but not much could be done about it right now as pre-flight checks needed to be finished.

Since "Gee" as she was affectionately called by family and friends had been a last minute replacement pilot for the special mission, this particular TIE/sf mk2 wasn't exactly set up for her. The PO had been busy making adjustments and getting to know her BB-10, an astromech droid with no wit so far detected, while the First Order fighter craft was mounted externally on the ventral side of the FIV Deliberate's port side wing directly behind her wing pair lead. Jianna had been trained in this situation, but never had actually deployed like this before in real time.

:: Striker Flight this is Striker One. Status Check. ::

Upon hearing Captain Brenner, the four-man flight group's lead and her wing mate, requesting status reports from his three other pilots, Jianna quickly finished imputing her preferred inertia compensator number to fly at, then keyed the comm unit with her current sitrep after taking a deep breath to calm her rookie nerves. These guys were all aces so she didn't want to sound any less than she already was.

:: Striker One, this is Striker Two. I am a go with green across the board. ::


[member="Ishana Pavanos"] [member="Nils Brenner"] [member="Pierce Fortan III"]

 

[Progflaw99]

The obsidian liquid was hot - though not enough to scald. Dante breathed in deeply the almost acrid aroma of the coffee, it was a welcome smell from the overly sterile scent of the military vessel. He'd continued to enjoy the silence until the sound of the lounge doors snapping open roused him from his internal monologue. Narrowing his eyes as the figure entering was none other than the Grand Moff herself, he rose - though not quickly. As she began to move in his direction, Dante rest his cup on the table beside him and forced himself up from his seat. Motioning first to the small couch beside, he offered her a seat before extending his hand in greeting.

"Of course your excellency." nodding his head. "We're getting closer to our destination, it might not be a bad idea to announce our presence - wouldn't want to end up at the wrong end of a turbolaser battery."​

​

Adjusting his posture he would sit as the Grand Moff did so. He knew precious little about the woman aside from what was played on State media but of course that was what she wanted people to know. Everyone had their secrets, everyone had a hidden sin - it was unavoidable and those who claimed otherwise were either lying, or too delusional to realize their own faults. Perhaps this position held more worth than first assumed, his cool blue eyes wondering what her weaknesses were as he made eye contact.

"Would you care to do the honors, or I?"​

​

With a short movement of his arm, he reached out and retrieved the datapad, holding it up in the air towards the Grand Moff. Soon they would have to announce their presence, if it wasn't already being tracked by an early warning system of sorts. Unfortunately for the Security Minister, he'd not had ample time to get spun up on everything happening behind the curtains. He would have to have a meeting with the Director soon to rectify that.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Amit Nykoan"] | [member="Asharad Graush"]​

 

[Kenrath]

Vengeance made his way into the circle quietly wearing simply robes without a cloak. His saber clipped to his belt but no other weapons. He didn't know for sure why he had been called away so urgently but figured all would revealed in due time. He looked around the room briefly noting the layout before taking his seat. He was here out of necessity and not desire so while others whispered and mumbled back and forth Vengeance remained silent. Patiently waiting on the meeting to come to order his thoughts drifting to the next battle and the next engagement.

When Tir called for silence to bring the meeting to order he focused on the man giving him his full attention. Attention redirected to Krest when his name was mentioned.

| [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Ignus"] | [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Venefica"] | [member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Nick Imura"] | [member="Darth Raxis"] |

​

 

[Poe]

​City of Ravelin, Capital of Bastion
​Ascendant Circle Hall (Back of the room, last seat on the left)



​I sat as silent as the dead in my chair, picking away the flesh out of my teeth from my previous meal with the sharpened point of my favorite flesh-peeling dagger. Arranged before me were the notorious Circle of the Lords, all making their final preparations for a special session. I was no Lord, so there was no seat for me, but my keen interest in politics had brought me here to observe; and learn. Slowly I was moving away from the warrior caste and filling in nicely as an Inquisitor. So it made sense for me to sit in on these proceedings.

​My curiosity was piqued beyond comprehension. I wondered, silently to myself, what had made this session so special? Finally pulling that rebellious piece of flesh from my teeth, I looked at it conjuring up the memory of those final screams and begging for mercy from my victim right before I ended her life. Smirking briefly, I popped the meat into mouth closing the chapter on another fine meal. Quietly, I attached my dagger to my sash and leaned back; crossing one leg over the other. The anticipation to know what was going on was killing me silently.

 

[Mr. OOC]

Bastion, Ascendant Circle Hall

As a member of the Circle, Leos was afforded a seat within the hall whenever a meeting was called. As he was currently on Bastion, it only made sense that he join the meeting of the other Lords. While he was not a member of Intelligence, he did manufacture several of the ships that the Ascendancy utilized. Among them was the Mobile Intelligence Gatherer, a platform designed to sit in certain locations and gather information at range on a system. It could also be positioned to monitor hyperlanes for chatter and passage of ships. As such, several were positioned along the major runs into the Ascendancy's territory. Being as interested in goings on as he was, he did keep a tab on them. However, the passage of one ship into the system didn't warrant his personal attention from the system, so he was unaware as to why the meeting was called.

Of course he'd arrived moments before [member="Tirdarius"] had called the hall to order. He approached his seat, [member="Maelasi Eramar"] moving with him as was customary, and took it. There was another seat directly behind him if she wished it, but he doubted she would afford herself such a luxury. If she did, it wouldn't bother him, but he knew her well enough to know that she'd believe she couldn't act swiftly in response to a threat if she was seated.

Hands settled in his lap as he turned his eyes over those assembled before the orange orbs settled themselves upon @Krest. Here was the one in charge of the Ascendancy's intelligence community. This meeting, therefore, appeared to be in his hands. That being the case, Leos figured there must have been soemthing important doing if it warranted the attention of the full circle. Maybe they'd determined the Force Hunters were going to mount an attack. He wouldn't put it past them given their recent endeavors, but he doubted they would be so brazen. Their attacks prior had been largely of the hit and run variety, not full scale engagements. They knew they couldn't win such a war. It was a war of attrition for them, or nothing else.

He remained silent, waiting.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Ascendant Circle Hall
City of Ravelin, Capital of Bastion

The Warmaster had been away in the Ascendancy's newly conquered territory, embroiled in the establishment of new infrastructure on worlds that were in desperate need of modernization. He'd overseen the construction of several new outposts and fortresses, specifically on the border worlds. He was even in the process of designing a whole new breed of warship that would bolster the Ascendancy's budding navy and instill both fear and adulation in their subjects both old and new.

But he had been called back to Bastion by Lord [member="Krest"], an urgent matter as it was described.

Carnifex wasted no time and hustled back to the Ascendancy's throneworld with haste, his mighty warship the Blade of Fate materializing over the world alongside its sister, the Hammer of Bastion. From there he was ferried to the planet's surface via his own personal transport which proceeded to land as close as possible to the Circle Hall. He strode into the chamber, a whirl of cloak and creaking armor plating, and took his position closest to the central circle. Burning eyes surveyed the assembly, so many had dropped what they were doing to attend this sudden meeting, and all of them reeked of anticipation much like himself.

[member="Tirdarius"] called the congregation to order, and the Warmaster waited for Lord Krest's revelation with bated breath.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

The Grand Moff took @Dange Calgar's offered hand and shook it firmly, her dark eyes studying him for several moments before she sat down in the offered seat. She knew next to nothing about Calgar, too, and normally she would have requested a dossier from the Minister of Security. That was rather more difficult when the Minister of Security was the subject of the dossier. She could do it; there was nothing to stop her. But she worried that might make her look insecure. As much as she hated it, in cabinet politics as much as anywhere else, appearances were everything. Natasi also couldn't be seen second-guessing the Supreme Leader's will in appointing Calgar to the Moff Council over Natasi's objections. She was wary of him, but couldn't dispatch him as a political opponent at this juncture.

"Please," Natasi said pleasantly. "We are cabinet colleagues, there is no need to stand on ceremony. Call me Grand Moff." She sipped her coffee and looked impassively across the seating area at the Security Minister. "I was just speaking to Clémence -- my PPS -- about my daily briefing. She'll be adding a few items to what I want to hear about, if you wouldn't mind working with the national security team to include it. I'm also bringing the Supreme Commander into our daily briefing, now that we have a Supreme Commander again. He'll need to be kept in the loop."

The Grand Moff took another sip of her coffee and inclined her head as he offered the datapad. "Quite right," she told him and accepted the datapad. She keyed in the appropriate commands to be connected to the bridge, then asked to be patched into planetary landing control advance. She announced their presence and their intentions and requested security clearance to land at Bastion.

[member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Amit Nykoan"] | [member="Asharad Graush"]​

[member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Jianna Raas"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

​

[member="Tirdarius"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ignus"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Vengeance"]​

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Pyrrhus"] | [member="Reverance"]​

 

[Ishana Pavanos]

Ishana's thoughts were interrupted by Nils, she sighed with some relief as the others reported in. They would finally get this thing underway and the sooner they did, the sooner she could get back to... Kaalia. Karkin' lekkus, she thought and swore all at the same time. The redhead was becoming infectious and she almost hated the woman for it. Almost. Instead, she looked down at her dashboard again and did another mental check, probably the seventh since she'd been sitting in her cockpit. "Easy there Smokes that rolling Bar of yours might just be your downfall," she teased Pierce, and finally after the eighth, maybe ninth time she looked her dash over.

:: Striker One, Striker Four checking in. Board's green for me, ready to roll when you are. ::​

​

She took in a deep breath and exhaled, tugging at the breather line. Shaking off the nerves she peered out of the viewport and prepared herself for take off. And for once she reminded herself of duty, of service and that she hadn't made a crack about Pierce's cousin yet. To be fair, she still hadn't changed out her locker so maybe that redhead hadn't quite gotten a full grip on her. Ishana swallowed hard and readjusted her grip on the controls. "Savage, you think they'll get us new birds after this run?" The pilot asked not that she didn't enjoy flying one of these puppies it was just she wanted something just a little sleeker, is all. Oh, and where were her manners, "and before we head out for the great unknown, allow me to say hello to you, uh, Pilot Officer is it? You can call me Songbird, Pavanos, or Strike Four just don't call me late to dinner." Another pause, "alright I'm done, switching channels."

:: Striker Three, looks like it's you and me baby, you ready to do this thing? ::​

​

[member="Jianna Raas"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Pierce Fortan III"]​

 

[Darth Ferus]

Krest had been sitting alone in his room carving a block of wood when over his direct com said something about a larger vessel coming towards Ascendancy space. Usually this was a minor note, but a message had come in with it that caused the Sith Lord to hurriedly get out of his room and order his intelligence to summon the Council. Fast forward to the council room and the Sith Lord stood in the middle of the room with his hair in disarray. He pulled out a datapad, bringing up a holoimage of the ship the First Order was planning to use.

"It seems the First Order has come to pay us a visit to speak about a potential alliance between us and them. From my understanding, their Supreme Leader, Grand Moffs, and other leaders of their government have come in person. They'll be arriving within the next half hour or so. This is a matter the Circle needs to speak about, though certainly not in thirty minutes. I move that we elect several of the Council to go and speak with them about a possible alliance, but that would need a unanimous vote, no?" The Sith cast a glance to each present, gauging their reactions. This was big news after all.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] @Ignus [member="Darth Sarcophago"] @Vengeance @Dante Calgar [member="Jianna Raas"] [member="Pierce Fortan III"] @Tirdarius @Nils Brenner [member="Asharad Graush"] [member="Ishana Pavanos"]

 

[Kenrath]

Vengeance was silent for a moment before I thought came to his mind.

"Why were we not given advance notice of their desire to meet. Just showing up at our doorstep is not exactly conducive to fostering the level of mutual respect required for a potential alliance consideration?"

He leaned back waiting on the answer. Sure he would be glad to meet them but the question is whether or not that meting would require the saber equipped to his belt....or then Regiment of Troops he had on stand by since the Mandalore incident still fresh on his mind.


[member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Ignus"] [member="Darth Sarcophago"] [member="Krest"] [member="Dante Calgar"] [member="Jianna Raas"] [member="Pierce Fortan III"] [member="Tirdarius"] [member="Nils Brenner"] [member="Asharad Graush"] [member="Ishana Pavanos"]

 

[Lief]

As ever, Maelasi was silent and dutiful in her attendance. She followed a foot behind [member='Ignus'], a step to the left, her presence purposefully diminished. While the Circle was open to any to attend, provided they remained quiet and respectful, Maelasi was not here to listen in really. Only in so far as it would make her able to provide counsel to her employer. No, she was here with one purpose in mind: preservation. Specifically, Leos'.

She had asked very few questions regarding the meeting. She cared not for its premise, only who it would entail. The First Order were a great power within the Galaxy, it would have been stupid of her to not do her homework. She did not wish to be blindsided again as she had been on Muunilinst.

Her gaze very briefly drifted to Leos when he took his seat, and naturally she took her place behind him. Standing, of course, though she did not make herself obvious thanks to the size of the seat.

Expression guarded, posture perfect, for now the woman merely observed.

[member='Vengeance'] [member='Krest'] [member='Ishana Pavanos'] [member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Sarcophago"] [member="Dante Calgar"] [member="Jianna Raas"] [member="Pierce Fortan III"] [member='Tirdarius'] [member='Nils Brenner'] [member="Asharad Graush"]

 

[Progflaw99]

It was a curt report from the other three pilots, the long hours cooped up in the confines of the small Gozanti-class cruiser leaving them all on edge though now that Nils was back in the cockpit he felt right at home. With a final check of his readouts, he keyed up his mic before switching to the comm channel between he and the cruiser's Commander.

:: Solid Copy, standby for reversion. ETA One Minute. ::​

​

With less than one minute before the ship would drop out of hyperspace, Nils let his hand hover over the docking release controls, the other manipulating a small pad to the side of his console. "Alrighty then, let's get this show on the road." he muttered under his breath. A rapid series of beeps and whirs in protest came from the small BB unit nestled in the droid port inside the cockpit. "Yeah I know there isn't an actual road, that's not the.." Another series of chimes and dings interrupted the pilot. *When did they start making these droids so mouthy?* thought the pilot to himself. With a defeated sigh, Nils rolled his eyes and went back to the countdown. Keying up, he'd make one final transmission to his fellow pilots before the reversion. Once free of hyperspace, they would know what to do.

:: Alright Striker Flight, Finger Four on me once we drop - be ready on release. Nice and easy, don't overburn. ::​

​

​

[member="Jianna Raas"]| [member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"]​

 

[Teynara Jeralyr]

The First Order? Coming here? That was an interesting revelation - though, in truth, Tirdarius' first concern was how it was that Ascendancy Intelligence had learned about it only in sufficient time to inform the Circle on the cusp of their arrival. Such a thing would require more pomp and circumstance than we can now afford them, given such short notice. True, the First Order should have sent word ahead, to notify the Circle of their arrival, as [member="Vengeance"] had noted, but undoubtedly they did not wish their intentions known to the Sith or to their own people: keeping things quiet would ensure that none would lose face, regardless of the outcome of their meeting.

Tirdarius had to applaud the intelligence at work behind the move - and while it might have been construed as a diplomatic faux pas to drop in unannounced, it spoke volumes that anyone from the upper echelon of the First Order were coming at all. Such beings are not moved by whim, nor on matters of little import. It seemed reasonable that the Sith could overlook the potential diplomatic insult in light of such a thing.

Still, the trick was to act smoothly, as though they had not been caught off-guard, and to make it eminently clear that any negotiations between the two of them would not be one-sided. That the Circle were already gathered made matters easier: the delegates could join them in the Ascendant Circle Hall, privately, where discussions might be conducted candidly, and where decisions could be made rapidly. To send a handful of representatives would be effective, true, but ratification of any deal would need to made by the Circle. With that body already assembled, matters would go quicker.

"We would do better to bring them here: their heads of state in discussion with the Circle. We might strip away the pomposities of negotiation and get right to the heart of what it is they are here to discuss," Tirdarius noted softly, his voice nonetheless carrying across the hall. "Let them come here, and see how Sith act when unified in purpose and voice."

That was ever the rule of the Ascendancy: a single shared vision, executed by beings loyal to the Ascendancy itself, rather than to their own political views or personal agendas. Thus, we do what is best for the people we rule, and for the planets we control. Undoubtedly the First Order would struggle with the concept: they bowed to but one man, a being whose singular vision was imposed upon the majority, whether they wanted it or not. Ironic, given that the Sith themselves once worked the same way. They had all seen the folly in it, though. And so it comes to this.

"Lord Carnifex, kindly arrange a full military escort for our visitors: see them land safely and escorted to the Hall. Perhaps you would take another with you, to honour our guests with the presence of Sith," he continued, directing his grey-eyed gaze to the one man perhaps capable of taking the power of the Ascendancy and grasping it firmly in his hands, as a sole ruler. That he had endorsed what they did here had ever spoken volumes to what the Ascendancy had achieved. His presence would send a magnificent message. "Let them be welcomed by a familiar face, that we might hear what they have to say."

Ascendancy: | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Ignus"] | [member="Krest"] | [member="Vengeance"] | [member="Darth Sarcophago"] | [member="Maelasi Eramar"] |​

​

First Order: | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Jianna Raas"] |​