Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Private The Jewel


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L O C A T I O N | Illyria | Dragonne Palace
T A G S | Palm-Imer Palm-Imer


"It will be the brightest jewel in the known galaxy." -King Adron Malvern
The morning had been filled with monotony. Something that the King of Illyria hated with a burning hatred. The Royal Assembly Hall which was home to the Illyrian throne was the primary meeting point of the Aristocracy. As it was not the official meeting point of the actual government, the High Court, it served the purpose of being a bit more detached from the view of the Chancellors and their benefactors, making it easier for the King to levy his commands as needed without a committee being birthed from every discussion. The chamber itself was a massive atrium with a glasteel ceiling. Ornate columns rose from the ground, surrounding the main floor that was set before the throne. Exquisite patterns of amethyst and gold flew from one side of the room to another, with the long flowing banners of the Royal House Malvern flying proudly behind the throne. The Gruesome Wolf gazed out over all people who entered into the chamber with a look of pure scrutiny.

Most people were formed in neat groups behind the columns, awaiting their time to speak with the King or interact with any members of the Court that were in attendance. The King was not seated in his ornate throne. No, he had a desk pulled into the center of the room so that the things they settled this day could be committed to paper and properly recorded and filed.

The average Noble who came seeking the King's audience came with open hands hoping to receive their Lord's favor and assistance in some matter that was beyond him. Most days, Adron turned the lesser nobles to their Overlord's, the Viscount's who were the peak of the Aristocracy and acted as the harbingers of Adron's will. Yet, when it was a Viscount who came before the court with a matter that he could not handle, the King took that seriously. So most of the morning was spent sorting between the two. Some were offered private appointments later in the day while others were offered other avenues of seeing their problems solved.

Adron's pen scratched into the paper he'd been looking over, his thin raven locks falling over his eyes as he silently muttered to himself. He wore a pair of shimmersilk trousers that were a deep shade of slate, however the surcoat to match had been slung across the back of the chair he'd sat in. He had been continually writing and recording the entirety of the morning, which had began well before the sun rose over the horizon. The hall was quiet, it usually was. In fact, in this moment as one of his Viscount's stood before him, the only thing that could be heard was the scratching of the metallic pen in Adron's hand. "There." The King said evenly, turning his eyes up from the paper. The Viscount had been kneeling before him, patiently waiting for the King to solve the matter placed before him. "This will offer you three months of tax immunity based on your hardship. If you have not reversed the state of your lands in that time then the consequences will be your own to suffer." The King's eyes were particular and calculating, but not without a certain interest to them. He had jewel-like amethyst eyes that gazed out over the man with a certain expression of discontent. He turned his eyes back to his desk, taking a small metallic device from the oaken desk and pressing it firmly into the bottom of the parchment. When he drew back there was a wolves head stamped into the paper. "Dismiss yourself from these halls until your honor is intact." The King said while holding the paper out to the Viscount.

"Oui, votre Majesté." Yes, your Majesty. The man spoke back in High Illyria, his head remaining bowed as he departed the hall.

The King sighed, before turning his eyes to one of the members of his Royal Guard. The armored Knight bowed his head in acknowledgement to some unseen question that stemmed from his King's gaze.

So his time was up then was it? He'd done enough work this morning, now his mind must shift to the next duty of a King. Passing by the chair he'd sat in, he pulled his surcoat from it while making his way towards the throne. The hall seemed to have a sudden shift as a group of servants rushed out, picking up the desk the King had been sitting at and ushering it out of the room as efficiently as could be managed.

The room's shift went from one of pure business to an air of ceremony as well. The Royal Guard took their positions, standing before each of the eight columns with their hands resting upon the hilts of their weapons. At Adron's throne was a peculiar sight. Two young Illyrian Shadow Wolf Pups. They were the size of kaath hounds, yet they sat obediently beside each side of the throne in silence. Their eyes were also jewel-like shades of amethyst, identical to the King's own eyes.

As Adron climbed the steps to the throne, fastening the links to his cuffs, he could not help but reach out with the Force.

Who would be the first guest? He wondered. There were a few who had been invited to the Royal Palace. Some to discuss matters of state, others to discuss matters of finance, and the rest came for a myriad of reasons.

There was a Chamberlain who stepped forward, wearing long flowing robes of ivory and ebony. He cleared his throat before calling out. "All hail his majesty. Adron of the House Malvern, High Lord of Illyria and King of the High Court."

"His majesty now invites his honored guests to step forward." The man said, gesturing to the center of the room. "Now introducing, Palm-Imer Palm-Imer of the planet Geminidae."

The King turned his eyes to his invited guest and held out a hand towards the woman. "Welcome to Illyria."


 
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀᴛ
For generations, her world had remained no more than a small background addition to the greater play of the galaxy. The planet, home to colossal mountains and great minds, preferred to watch history pass by while staying relatively unaffected by it. Little was known of the culture of its people, besides their love for innovation and what could only be described as an unquenchable thirst for knowledge. Yet still they remained secluded and hidden behind their borders, only sending a select few to act as their voice and sword; the key to the veiled system that had allowed them to thrive even while shying away.
They firmly believed that opening their borders to foreigners or releasing the hold they had so carefully kept over their own people would bring nothing but instability and peril. Contact was maintained only when it was strictly necessary and to calm the claims for fairness that arose in the public, those who occupied the ruling roles of society made it a prohibition even to themselves to leave their beloved home-world. Only the Ambassadors would traverse the stars, and through them their need for knowledge and representation would be satisfied while the peace they had always cherished continued to reign.
Not even the Sovereign, the one and true ruler of Geminidae, capable of shaping the established order however they saw fit if they so desired could find excuse to journey away from their planet nor would they have the need to. For the Ambassadors became their voice, and therefore the voice of all Geminian people. This was well-known to those who had heard of the isolationist planet. Today was one such day in which an Ambassador would become the vessel of the wishes and opinions of her Sovereign, a task Palm-Imer held in the greatest of honors and responsibilities.
Illyria was indeed a beautiful planet with undeniable potential, and it was no wonder to the geminaie why it was in the interest of her people to extend her symbolic visit as a sign of recognition and good faith. She had spent the previous day and that morning in a remote audience with her Majesty, Feyd-Serit, surrendering her full attention to the words of her liege and committing them to memory. Over twenty years spent in preparation to perform her role flawlessly had certainly borne their fruit. And today Palm stood up to the title that had been bestowed to her by right of birth without effort.
Her body was covered by a fine dress in the unmistakable style of her people but suiting to the setting of the Court. Long and conveying a modest elegance neither ostentatious nor precisely humble, formal without being overdressed for the occasion. Yet despite the refined appearance of the well-tailored frock, it was easy to ignore in the presence of the most remarkable and distinguished possession on any Ambassador. Skillfully held to the simple and tasteful braids that decorated Palm’s hair, the face of the young woman was covered by a gem-mask as was customary whenever she served her role as a representative.
She held her bearing with poise, shoulders and spine aligned and a neutral but welcoming expression on her features. Trained not only as an Ambassador but also as an Heir, Palm could replicate the walk of her Sovereign almost identically, moving effortlessly and fluidly, comfortable in the gentle firmness that such display bestowed upon her presence. She had arrived at Dragonne Palace exactly at the agreed upon time, and not long after she was guided to the throne room where the King awaited.
After being introduced, she slightly bowed her head in recognition to her host and High Lord of Illyria and then accepted his extended hand with her own. “It is my pleasure and honor, Your Majesty.” She responded, addressing him respectfully. As her protocols dictated, Palm would not suppress her presence in the Force as she was used to do. She could sense the High Lord also shared a deep connection to the living force, albeit far more refined than her own.
“I come to you today as the representative of Sovereign Feyd-Serit. It is Her Majesty’s will to express her formal recognition and support of your authority over Illyria and extend her good wishes to your reign and the future and prosperity of your home-world.” Words that were the reason for her visit to the planet. With the slowly growing influence of the anti-isolationist party and Geminidae’s emerging companies and enterprises, such diplomatic displays were now considered paramount to establishing firm bonds with those planets who shared the qualities of being both independent and promising, much like Geminidae.
 
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The King's eyes were ever keen and fastened upon the woman who presented herself as the representative of her own Monarch, the Queen Feyd-Serit. The woman that the world of Geminidae had selected as their voice moved in fluid movements, much like pristine water flowing through a crystal host. Her movements were so precise and measured that most of the men and women of the hall turned from their business to witness this scene.

So she presented her intent. The realization of his rule by the World of Geminidae. This was no small thing to those well versed in the political realm. The King's eyes showed an amused expression, yet it was hidden beneath a certain air of formality. There were many reasons why a Monarch would acknowledge the rule of another. However it simply boiled down to one of two prospects. They wished to make a lasting connection between the two worlds or they were interested in the true worth of the respective monarch's rule. In short, that could mean the woman before Adron was sent to gauge the worth of Illyria and her King.

Perhaps. Perhaps Not. The man mused, a hand coming to his chin as he took a moment to contemplate this thought.

"Then I am honored to receive her grace and welcome her presence in my courts." The King nodded his head before clasping his hands together. "Geminidae." He spoke out, tasing the world on his lips as he considered all that he knew on the world, which was not a great deal. Though he did know of two things. The planet had an increasingly advanced take on the technological field and they were an isolationist state, not unlike Illyria during her dark age. With that in mind, the King had no reason not to proceed, as the planet did merit some interest. "Though I do not know much of your world, I have no reason to believe your Queen's words are not genuine. As such I would like to extend my own grace back to your Queen and-"

The massive doors that sat on the wall behind the Ambassador were thrown open. This outburst caused Adron's eyes to quirk, before quickly narrowing. What came next was an older man with a snow-white beard. He wore flowing azure robes that floated just above the marble floors. He had a rather panicked expression about him, yet there was still an aura of might surrounding him. "Your Majesty! Had I known you were entertaining foreign diplomats I would have been more than willing to sit in council during this meet!" The older man strode past the woman, trailed by two members of his staff who carried a multitude of datapad and paper tomes. The older man fell to his knee before the throne, still speaking in this hurried tone. "It is not proper, you should not have to stoop so low as to-"

"Chancellor." Adron's voice fell from his lips in a tone that was much like silk wrapped around a silver dagger. The chilling tone silenced the man, causing him to bow his head even deeper in silence. Adron looked past the old man and to their guest whose audience had been thoroughly interrupted. "There are times when duty drives even the most practiced of men mad." The King said, his hand dismissively waving at the Chancellor. "Rise, Chancellor." The elder man nodded before standing and turning to face Palm-Imer. "Chancellor Orion is the Chancelier de l'égide or Chancellor of the Aegis. It was his office that arranged our meeting today." The King said while rising to his feet and clasping his hands behind his back.

"An office that has been amiss in telling me information that should be considered pri-"

"Chancellor." Adron said once again, his amethyst eyes turning to the man in a silencing manner. The King did not make a habit of repeating himself in his own court, yet for the time being he had to allow the elders of the Illyrian way to endure. For the time being. "Have the halls cleared." Adron commanded, raising a hand to the air as he did.

In unison the members of the royal guard each took a step away from their columns, turning and ushering those members of the court out of the room. Adron watched the dismissal with unconcerned eyes before finally the room was empty to only the King, the Chancellor, and the ambassador Palm-Imer. Now, when only silence was between the three, the King gestured to the woman before him. "You will now remove your mask." He commanded the young woman. "I would see your face." He told the woman.
 
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀᴛ
The Ambassador held the King’s gaze with her own as he contemplated her, an action to be expected from a prudent monarch. In her own eyes he would find a certain firmness yet also a respectful and patient disposition. Such was the hardest task of an Ambassador, to balance their value as extensions of their Sovereign while still acknowledging their station as representatives, owing their complacency to those above them in hierarchy as the protocols demanded lest they be perceived as pretentious or improper. Politics were to their very core a fickle and delicate art; its truest meanings had always found a way to hide in details and gestures and so meticulousness in its practice was required.
Palm was the eyes and the ears of someone else, she had been entrusted to produce observations and opinions that in their objectivity would be of value to her Sovereign. The weight of the responsibility was not easily shouldered, and had she not been designed for the purpose or underwent such an extensive conditioning it would have been impossible for her to stand today before the High Lord and accomplish her role satisfactorily. This was one of the first times she received the honor of representing the Sovereign herself, and her resolve to meet the expectations not only of her own liege but of her host was absolute.
She offered an accepting nod at the King’s recognition of her Sovereign’s good faith and kept her silence attentively as he spoke, readying herself to reply in accordance. It was then that the heavy doors of the hall were open once more, the suddenness of it causing quite an abrupt interruption. Knowing better than to turn her back on a King, the geminaie remained perfectly still and only shifted the focus of her hearing to the steps and words of the newcomer. Her hands carefully folded in front of her, the woman maintained her position as dutifully as the King’s guard held theirs before the pillars of the throne room.
The rushed tone that the words of the man carried was enough for her to determine he must have been of an advanced age and her suspicions were confirmed once he reached them. Subtly, she shifted her eyes to the Chancellor as he knelt before his King. She did not see his escorts for they were outside of her field of view. Palm once again offered a bow of her head when introduced, although not as deep as the one enacted for the High Lord. “Then I extend my thanks to the Chancellor.” She responded. The man continued to try to present his worries before he was silenced once more by the commanding tone of the King.
Curiosity arose within her at the High Lord’s order to clear the room, but of course none of her questioning would show on her features. These halls were his to do as he pleased, and in the short span of their meeting Palm had developed the impression that King Adron Malvern Adron Malvern did not speak or act purposelessly. She trusted she would gain further insight as to what this purpose was shortly. In the meantime, she would wait.
The sound of careful steps filled the hall as the Royal Guard guided the King’s court away, and once more the amber gaze of the Ambassador found its way to the High Lord. Once more she was surprised by his instruction, but with well refined talent kept this feeling from surfacing at all. “As you wish, Your Majesty.” It was not common to receive such a request, but her protocol demanded that she subjected herself to the demands of her hosts as long as these were not dishonorable or meant as an offense to her people. She would remove her mask if it pleased him.
Carefully and with no rush she raised her hands and undid the pins and fastenings that held the gems. It was clear that she was practiced in the skill of removing the item, for she managed to do so without disturbing the integrity of the braids that styled her hair at all. The gems then became a heavy weight on her hands, and the King would be met with the face of a young woman that despite her youth managed to retain the same regal shine of the stones that had covered her neutral expression.
 
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The King had ordered the halls for a single reason. He preferred privacy when dealing with matters such as these. The Chancellor's presence was a simple exception that he often allowed out of respect for the man's station below him. As the woman agreed to the King's demand, Adron watched the meticulous and careful way she removed her gemstone mask with a fluidity of flawless motions. When her face was revealed, the King couldn't help but allow his lips to form an accepting smile. "How magnificent." His words were spoken in easy praise before he looked to the Chancellor with a look that seemed to be one he'd given the man once before. "Chancellor. With you here as witness, I will extend my own grace upon the world of Geminidae. Let your Queen know that the World of Illyria wished them prosperity and glory." He said.

"That being said, I would hear more about this world and I would hear of it from a woman who has called it home." The King descended the steps of the throne while his amethyst eyes remained securely fastened on the woman before him. He took measured strides that led him to stand before the woman who had unveiled herself so.

Adron held a hand out to the woman, the black gloves he wore made of a fine ebony silk with thin white lines running along the face of his palm. "Take a walk with me, I would give you a tour of the palace." While the King approached the ambassador, the Chancellor behind him bowed his head respectfully. "Very good, your majesty. I shall take the time to arrange a room for the Ambassador in the guest quarters. Also, a dinner in honor of this joint understanding."

The King nodded at his Chancellor as he led the Lady from the main chambers. There was a door in the side of the room which led into the inner workings of the palace. As the two stepped into this moderately lit hall, they were joined with two members of the Royal Guard who moved in step with the duo, taking their place a few steps behind the two. With their proximity, the young woman would be able to feel how the oppressive weight of the Dark Side bled from the King. In the realm of the Force the man was much like a frozen glacier, bellowing out chilling winds over all that surrounded him. "Tell me more about your world. I was under the interpretation that your people had no interest in exposing themselves to the greater galaxy. Have times changed?" He wondered.
 
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀᴛ
The Ambassador offered a ghost of a smile too at the kind praise of the King. His next words, however, were the ones that truly inspired the gratitude of the geminaie. Her Sovereign would be most pleased by this declaration and it held promise for future interactions. Such simple words between authorities could become the beginning of bridges of upmost importance, this was no small act between the nations and Palm grew satisfied at the favorable development. “Your words are gratefully received, your Majesty. I will ensure they reach my Sovereign, whom I am certain will be honored by your gesture.” Her response was once again delivered in the neutral and pleasant softness of her voice.

She was not surprised at his request to learn more of her home-world and in fact felt a certain eagerness at the prospect of conversation. Palm was profoundly proud of her origins and harbored that deep and absolute form of love that one could only hold for the place that had given them everything. The woman accepted the offered hand in a delicate manner, “It would be my pleasure, your Majesty.” And she moved in accordance to his stride after accepting his proposal. Once more she bowed her head lightly at the Chancellor signaling both her farewell and gratitude before she was led away from the grand hall by the High Lord.

Her training in the ways of the
Soller-Navah had made the woman particularly proficient in the arts of sensing, and that in turn made her all the more aware of the imposing presence the King of Illyria held in the dark-side of the Force. It was not necessary to say that had she not been well prepared she would have felt overwhelmed, instead she focused on not allowing the closeness to the source of such presence to distract her from her duties. It was admirable, to say the least, and Palm had no doubt that the King stood among the most powerful users she had met in her travels so far. She supposed her own presence was but a faint glow in comparison

“His Majesty’s knowledge is well placed,” Her reassurance came accompanied with a subtle nod. He was right indeed, Geminidae had always kept to itself and in many occasions had protected its privacy through whatever means necessary. Her people were curious but mistrustful, or so it had been during most of their history. “Our isolationist regime still stands strong, enforced and guarded as it has always been. We only maintain relations with foreign systems to further our economy and industry.” She explained, and although the blankness in her voice was certainly well enacted a trained ear could have detected hints of her own personal distaste for this reality.

“However, as has been suggested, change would seem to have started to bloom in the later years. Our liege has allowed a louder voice to those who would see change,” Still we continue to bind ourselves to ancient customs. She kept her last addition as nothing more than a thought and awaited to know if the High Lord was satisfied with her answer.

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 
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When the King found that his information on the world was yet relevant he turned a whimsical gaze over to the woman who he escorted through the halls of his palace. He was one with a trained and practiced ear when it came to the subtle cues that people left in the tone of distaste or excitement, yet as the woman before him spoke, it was not in one of hidden excitement. Could it be the young woman was not a fan of this tradition of isolation? That was an interesting thought to be sure. "Isolationism." The King said, moving down the narrow hall and turning into a slightly larger corridor. "When I came to Illyria it was set in such tradition. However, Illyria was quite the opposite of your own world. The previous Monarchs believed by locking away the world it would be easier to rule, easier to control. A foolish notion. Control comes from a lack of contention and there was much due to the laws of isolation. So the result was hundreds of years of war which scarred so much of the world, robbing it of beauties that may never again return."

"Illyria had spent years destroying itself, making itself weak. As is the law that all things must abide, it was brought to heel by a greater power, my own." He said, with no sign of humility or regret in the actions that placed him upon the throne. "With the bulwark of tradition and history ripped down, the world had room to breathe. Industry has replaced isolation and progress has replaced war. Now Illyria will become a superpower to the greater galaxy in less than twenty years. All because I decided it to be so, is that not an amusing thought? The actions of a single man can send subtle shifts that will, in time, change the entire flow of the galaxy." He said as the two crossed a threshold into an open area. The gardens were filled with many exotic plants and flowers from across the galaxy.

The Exarch found a rather elegant flower. It was a pristine shade of white, flecked with cyan and crimson in a delicate balance. The King pulled the flower from its stem before holding it out towards the woman. "You see. A world in this galaxy is much like a flower on a vine. When properly tethered then it will flourish and blossom, but without it..." The Dark Side lashed out from the Sith Lord's palm, draining the flower of the precious little life it had laid claim to. The flower wilted in an instant, before the King allowed it to fall to the ground, quickly forgotten. "So I am glad to hear your people are considering change." He explained to the woman, before turning his attention back to the vine where he had plucked the flower.

"So tell me, the Queen is interested in giving voice to those who are voting for change. Where do you rest in that balance? Do you believe change is a necessary path or...?" He gestured offhandedly to the wilted flower that was laid upon the ground below them.
 
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀᴛ
The Ambassador committed her attention to the words of the King, and found herself just as enthralled in them as she had once been at the words of those who formed her into the person she was today. Her attentiveness did not come only from a place of professional interest, as her role demanded, but simply from the power of her own curiosity and appetite for knowledge. Her focus was quite evident in her now revealed features, she found his reflections quite insightful and while not she was using her concentration to analyse them, there was no doubt that they would later spark some thoughts of her own. There were many parallels in that regard between Illyria and Geminidae. The bloodiest war her people had seen had been birthed from the rivalry between those who wished to remain separated and those who would explore the galaxy. There was no need to clarify who the victor had been.

"I see. I believe my home-world would have suffered a similar fate had it not been for my species' traits," In reality, the only reason Geminidae never knew endless conflicts was because of the geminaie ability to modify their behavior, their very personality, to an extent and not without danger. Objectivity came easy as did acceptance and tolerance, and the few that used it to strengthen their resolve for war had been the ones who had met their ends in it. "It brings me joy that Illyria is now found in more capable hands. It is not the actions of any single man that can bring forth such change." Her planet had never interested itself with conquest, but they were no strangers to the fact that those who survived and dominated it were worthy of, at the very least, deep respect. Illyria was a beautiful planet, even if some of its beauty had been lost to the perils of war, and the Kings words left no doubt that he would see it not only restored but progressed.

Then they moved on into the garden, and Palm took note of her surroundings with a faint, gentle smile on her lips. She enjoyed nature, this was a piece of art made of it. The honey-colored eyes of the Ambassador followed the hand of the High Lord as he plucked a very peculiar and stunning flower, a new wave of curiosity forming within her. It did nothing but grow when she felt him channel the dark energy that surrounded him. His very well formulated comparison reached its end, and she witnessed as the flower that had been lively and enchanting a second ago met to the sad and opaque fate that time would have eventually reduced it to. Raised in an Order were such uses of the Force were not taught nor permitted, her momentary amazement shone in her gaze.

Her eyes only separated from the dead flower when she was addressed again, and seeing as how he had directed himself to her as an individual and not in her capacity as a representative, Palm let go slightly of the frigid demeanor she morphed herself into while speaking in the name of others. Her new stance was still neutral and showed the same respect and formality, but her eyes were no longer as blank as they had been. "I am for change, your Majesty." And maybe that was the reason why she had been sent to this meeting instead of any of her colleagues. "My opinions have earned me hardship, but I stand by them." She was not only an Ambassador but an Heir, a potential future ruler should she come out the victor in the Geminian Ordeals when the current Sovereign announced her wished to abdicate her title. Many were outraged when someone of her standing decided to speak publicly in favor of the growing movement.

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 

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The woman who stood before Adron was not only attentive, yet receptive. When his eyes landing back on her there was a power that came from him. A power that washed over this woman and sought to pierce any and every lie she told. If there were falsehoods, this very power would drift down to the center of her being and rip them forth. His smile never faltered, however he found nothing to bring about more peering into the woman's conscious. She was as he preferred all beings to be, genuinely represented. As they moved through the rather expansive gardens, stepping upon smooth opal floors the King continued to speak. "So you are of the opposition to the Queen?" He asked with a considerable quirk in his tone. "I imagine your Sovereign is not truly pushing for the end of Isolationism. No, from what you have told me she is merely appeasing those of you who believe progression comes from the end of this isolation?" He inquired.

"Curious." He said, a hand coming upon his chin once again in thought. "They will continue to earn you hardship. When I was a boy, a young Count, my own views not only earned me hardship, but no small deal of pain and loss. Those of us who have turned our eyes away from the simple dream of stagnation and turn towards progression and prosperity will always be at odds with the flow of the status quo."

"It is through these hardships that we grow...and allow the ever expanding path of the Force to light the way." The King was perceptive. He not only noticed the woman's raw connection to the force, but he also took note of her interest in its practice. Could it be she was unaware of the full scope of her abilities? "But I am sure you understand this already. I sense the Force within you and it is a great column of strength for you to draw on." As they moved through the gardens the cold chill would return to them as the King allowed his power to seep out in a seething wave.

The flowers that were around them grew, their vines growing and filling with an unconventional dark power. They produced small buds which quickly blossomed to unnatural black roses. The King plucked one of them. "The Illyrian Shadow Rose is a favorite of mine. I cultivated it myself with the Dark Side and now it blooms all over the planet." He plucked one of the roses, holding it out to the woman before him. "For your Queen, my lady. Let her see the dark beauty of our world first hand." He said, before turning back, causing all of the vines to draw back to their original forms, the black roses remaining in small clumps along the growths.

They soon found themselves exiting the gardens and the King's stride remained even and paced as he spoke to the woman. "Do your people have a natural affinity for the Force or are you an exception to the rule?" He wondered, moving down a more secluded hall that seemed devoid of any others.







 
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀᴛ
Feeling powerless was something no being could ever get accustomed to, or at least so she believed. As with everything, those who were forced into such positions often found manners to cope whether it be through denial, acceptance or redirection. Right then, experiencing the intrusion of the King's power into her mind, Palm knew the feeling for one of the first times in her life; and she was sure it would not be the last. She was used to being able to protect herself from such uses of the Force, those they had taught her to forego. Yet in this occasion not only would she have been unable to muster a sufficient resistance, attempting to would have been both defiant and suspicious; two things she could not allow herself to be. She was grateful then, that it had not been in her intentions and certainly not in her actions being deceitful towards the King, and chose the path of acceptance as they continued their walk through the gardens.

A small smile flowered on her lips at the King's inquiry. Palm held no doubt that she did not stand among the Queen's favorites if compared to other Heirs, yet she was a dutiful individual and had grown to respect her rule even if she did not share many of her ideas. "The assumptions about Her Majesty ring true, at least in accordance to my humble opinion." She said, for she would happily agree to the statement as it had been worded by the High Lord. "For many years the only authority spared to those who are of a similar mind to mine was the creation of my caste. Ambassadors, to see and interact with the galaxy in the stead of our people. It has been many generations since then, our existence is no longer enough."

Hearing a King relate to her experiences struck accord within the geminaie, although the emotions stirred would dissipate before they could properly reach her expression. For a time Palm had chosen to ignore her calling to join the efforts of those who were against isolation. It was the easier path. Of course, her resistance did not hold for long for it was driven by her deep seated need to do right by her home-world and those she served. And she did not believe seclusion to be the best thing for either. It had lost her many friends, and for a time it even strained the bond between her brother and herself. But she stood her ground, and now she found herself in Illyria and in conversation with its ruler her resolve was further strengthened.

She allowed herself a glance at the King as he mentioned the Force. Her curiosity had been awakened with his previous demonstration, even for a practiced Ambassador such as herself it was hard to deny her intrigue when it was so profound. It did not surprise her that the Lord had taken notice of her own connection, but the fact that he had given it acknowledgement when it seemed so dim if compared to his own certainly did. Once more she felt the intense bite of his presence as it spread like a frozen wave through their surroundings, veiling everything in its influence. As she heard the vines grow and saw the leaves move and sprout, her amber eyes danced through the garden in admiration.

And as the dark roses came into being she tried to commit their blooming to memory. Such power was forbidden to her, and her belief in the ways of the soll'nav would stop her from ever practicing such art herself. But those were no grounds to deny the grandeur of them, to create something so delicate that held so much power. "They are truly beautiful, your Majesty." Her compliment did not do them justice, but then again she did not think any words truly could. "I will gladly deliver your present, along with my own recount of Illyria's many wonders." She bowed her head as she accepted the flower, holding it delicately in her hand.

"The gift is not particularly prevalent, your Majesty. Some of us are born sensitive to it, some are not." Palm would not be surprised if approximately half of the population, maybe a bit less, were blessed with the attunement. Finding force-sensitives among the geminaie was both strange and common, as all evenly granted things tended to be. "It has been with us for millennia. As far as my knowledge allows, our use and philosophy of the Force is quite unlike any other in galaxy." Sometimes for the better, sometimes for the worse.

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 
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Their walk finally brought them to an interesting place. The King led the way into a chamber that seemed deep inside of the Illyrian palace. "I'd like to show you something while you are here." He said with a neutral expression held over his face. The doors before them parted, showing an indoor pool, however it was not like any other pool one would expect to see. From the moment they stepped inside of the room, they were surrounded by black marble floors, complemented with ebony and amethyst walls. It was the waters that would catch the ladies eye, however.

Those waters seemed pitch black as midnight and deeper than any ocean. They were a marvel to be sure. As the King stepped towards the waters they gave off faint shimmers as if reacting to his very presence. "
The Royal Reflection Pool. A place of great power and focus." The Illyrian King spoke out as he looked back to the woman. Focus. That would be one of the feelings that washed over Palm. Her mind would feel free of its chains and open to intake knowledge without hindrance. If, even for a moment, she focused her eyes on the black waters then she would begin to hear a faint ringing, so quiet she may have wondered if she even heard it at all.

"Now. Before you tell me of how your people view the Force, let me explain it to you." He stepped forward, his polished shoes stepping onto the waters, yet they did not disturb the liquid. No, they simply glided over the surface as he stepped into the pool. The waters quaked at him as he smiled back to the woman who he'd invited into his place of meditation. "The Force...The Dark Side is something that few truly comprehend. Some believe it is raw emotion or simple power. Emotion triggers the Dark Side and power is its gift, however the Dark Side is something so much more than that."

As he spoke, tiny tendrils of water twisted from the pool, eight of them in total rising from the water, no thicker than a length of rope. "The Dark Side is Fate."

The tendrils would drift towards Palm, the whispers growing more vibrant, more true to her ear. She would hear them, calling out to her as if a long lost friend. Yet, in the next moment the receded back into the pits from where they had emerged. "It is also the ability to change Fate." The Sith Lord said whimsically, before stepping back from the waters and making his way to the woman. "Care for a dip?" He asked, holding a hand out to the water behind him. Though he'd made the offer, she would be able to tell it was more of a jest than anything. He chuckled softly before gesturing to the woman, curiosity peaking within him. "Tell me, how do your people practice the Force?" He wondered.
 
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀᴛ
Illyria seemed to unravel another surprise with every passing moment that she had the pleasure of spending on its surface. As an Ambassador, Palm was taught to harbor the idea that everything held something hidden. One deeper story to tell, one more secret to hide. It was the purpose of her existence to pursue and unveil this obscure pieces that contributed to the whole, to the determine if their value was enough to gain a place among the many hidden aspects of her people. Right then, however, Palm had not been conducting herself in her capacity as an Ambassador, but as an individual. And as the experience called to her on a personal level, the previous task was halted as she was invited into a place unlike any she had seen before, a place that for a moment would awaken forces she had long since considered dormant within her.

The waters looked like molten obsidian, and even the reflection of them in the honey-colored eyes of the geminaie seemed to taint their brightness and make them darker. Her breathing slowed down as she felt the limits of her mind shift and give way, and suddenly every detail was as prominent as the greater picture and every thought was picked and processed with unprecedented swiftness as the essence emanating from the pool permeated through her very being. The soft ringing reached her ears, and soon enough something buried deep within the core of her soul began to stir in answer to it with what she could only describe as calculated, purposeful excitement.

She watched, speechless, as the King advanced over the stilled waters and these allowed his step on them faithfully. Her eyes abandoned the surface of the pool, albeit with some resistance for she was enthralled by the dark waters, and her sharpened attention was set on the High Lord once more. The Darkside. Palm was not a stranger to it, and yet she felt she had never truly experienced it until this moment. It was on very few occasions that she had heard its ever tempting call, in her sadness and in her anger, yet her teachings had always stirred her away from its arms and kept her in balance, in neutrality. For she did not dare meddle with what she believed herself to be unable to control.

The obscure tendrils rose and her gaze followed them as they approached, the ringing became whispers and the already strong hold the surrounding presences had on her did nothing but strengthen. A long, silent sigh escaped her lips as she listened, and that same force within her stirred more violently as if trying to break free of its cage to get closer to the essence of the waters and the man that stood on their surface. It was once more calling to her, more strongly and clearly than it ever did before. And the spectacular mixture of fear and marvel glazed her gaze as it reached the amethyst eyes of the King. The Darkside is fate, and the ability to change it.

Those words would remain in her mind as faint ringing, just like the voices she now stopped hearing had been when they first entered this chamber. The lady managed to return a small and polite smile at his jest, as she recuperated from the powerful effect the last few moments had had on her senses, both physical and those only shared by the people who were connected to the Force. In a way, she felt much like she did as a child when first introduced to this influences, although that experience was not comparable in magnitude to this. This had been in great contrast, if not the complete opposite, to the teachings she had received and that she upheld. Upon her words, it would not be difficult for the King to determine that her apprehension being inspired by the intensity of the Darkside stemmed from this reality.

"Never as deeply as this, your Majesty." Those were the first words that came to mind. Her hand then reached for the sash that wrapped around the waist of her dressed. Neatly tucked beneath it was a small emblem, that now laid on her open palm as she allowed the monarch to see it. "This is the ser'imper, the Mark of Restraint and emblem of my Order" She presented, knowing that the very meaning of her words already set a stark difference to the ones the King had just offered.
"We are taught that the Force is meant to affect and transform only those who are connected to it, individually. We focus on sense and control, and are forbidden by our philosophy to use our gifts to change others or that which surrounds us. It is our belief that in this way, we will one day find the true meaning of the Force by fully comprehending our connection to it."

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 
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The King listened to the woman's words with a bemused expression coming across his face. He looked to her with a certain wonder, a wonder if she truly believed the words she spoke? Conditioning and training could only do so much. The enlightened eventually broke their shell and stepped into the greater galaxy, drinking from the cosmic libations that it often felt a need to set before them. His hand came up, a single firm finger pressing into the mark on her palm as he spoke. "The Force is life and death. These things are not so easily contained...not so easily shackled." He said, his voice low and foreboding as small amethyst shadows seemed to drift from his finger to the woman's mark. "Why hold power...if not to use it?" He challenged. "The control is in the mastery of these abilities, not in hiding them away like a child holding power too great for himself." He said, a wry smirk coming to his lips as his teasing came to an end. He chuckled softly before shaking his head. "Still. If such is your way I am in no position to debate it."

"Come, my lady. Let us share a drink?" He asked her, before taking steps towards the main door exiting the reflection pool. As Palm's eyes crossed the black waters once more than she would hear the faint whisper, something that could only be heard when the Force was with her. A single word that would be etched into her mind for some time.

Parabellum.

The moment would be gone as soon as it had come and when she turned back to the King he would be gracing her with a knowing smile. "Do you fancy scotch? Or perhaps a fine wine?" He asked, before leading her out of the room once again.

The two would move through the palace, following the winding halls and sharp turns until finally the King invited the woman into a small study. The walls were covered with books and tomes of ages long since forgotten. There was a single window in the room, sitting perfectly behind the King's desk. While the man did not turn towards the desk, he instead made his way over to a small bar cart that had been prepared in the corner of the room. "I have a blue arbor from Naboo. It is as if you're drinking liquid crystals. May I tempt you?" He offered, holding up an azure and golden bottle at the woman.

He poured two flutes of the golden-blue wine, allowing them to flow into their glasses before holding one out to Palm. "Now. There is another matter I would like to discuss before we part for the day, if you are open to the discussion. Since taking control of my world I have noticed the technological fields of the planet are...lacking. Through my own resources it has begun to rise once more, however at a rate I do not find acceptable. The industry of the world is finally returning, yet it needs a heavy transfusion of credits until a time that it can be considered truly acceptable. So I would like to enter into an agreement with a well-established world that will generate another avenue of credits. Through trade. This part of the galaxy is in desperate need of two very special minerals, Carnium and Ardanium. Two metals that are found on your homeworld if my information is correct?"

"Illyria, since long before my time, has taken to producing precious jewelry, silks, wines, and we have recently found a new species of tree that has a very interesting property. I would like you to take this thought to your Sovereign. Allow her to consider the needs and wants of her people and if any of these things sound appealing then perhaps a trade agreement can be brokered?" He asked, before downing his drink and turning towards his desk to take a seat. He gestured for the seat before his desk, before pausing. "However. There is a condition. You will become the official ambassador to Illyria. I will work with you or I will work with no one." He said simply, before taking his seat and drinking down the wine he'd been enjoying.
 
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀᴛ
There was truth to the King's words, and she had herself made such statements and questions in her youth. The answer her Mentor's offered had been very simple, the Force was life and death. And they should not meddle in those extents of its great power unless they managed to grasp it completely, to finally discover the true and full meaning of it. In time she had learned to be satisfied by this reply, yet the High Lord's next words put it into questioning again. Palm was loyal, particularly so, to herself and her beliefs. Because of a life time spent in training and education; those pertaining to the Force were quite well rooted within her. But she was not obstinate and certainly not pretentious, and thus extended to his observations the thought and consideration they deserved. Her reply did not come in the form of a sentence, but in the contemplative look that formed in her features.

Once he called to her again, the Ambassador delivered a nod and a slight smile. "It would be my pleasure, your Grace." She answered his offer. The lady did not hide that she was very much enjoying the honor of his company and the insight he had freely shared with her. Palm was a thinker, and like all people who enjoyed the delicate, rewarding and sometimes treacherous pastime of picking apart their own convictions. there were little things that were as pleasant as finding themselves in the presence of a source of thoughts and considerations to fuel the machinations of their mind. In the end she would stay true to her ways, but the exercise was most entertaining.

As she prepared to follow the King out of the chamber, her amber eyes couldn't help but be drawn to gaze at the dark waters one more time. For a second, there was only that faint and almost inaudible whispering that had welcomed upon their arrival. Yet as soon as she turned to make her way out, the breathy voice of the waters was as clear in her mind as if it had come from the very depths of her own soul and not the pool she had just turned her back on. A cold chill run down her spine as the word forcefully made its way through all the corners of her mind until it finally settled somewhere within it, its echo still a distant but clear sound: parabellum.

A very faint frown settled on her brow as her mind and heart cleared the sudden fray left behind after the dark presence belonging to the pool had so strongly manifested within her. And she wondered why as she repeated that word some times in her head. Yet this was not the time for prolonged contemplation, she could not leave the King waiting. And so, willing herself to put aside her unease, she followed the King once more through the hallways and paths of Dragonne Palace.

Once in the study room, she once again examined her surroundings and found herself particularly fascinated by the ancient books that lined the walls from beginning to end. Books like these were an increasingly rare sight in the galaxy with the advance of technology, a pity in more than one way. When the King extended the flute to her she accepted with a delicate movement of her hand and a gentle expression of her gratitude. This was the first time she had heard of such a beverage and having no doubts that the King's good taste was to be trusted, she was eager to try the marvelous looking drink. However, before taking the flute to her lips she heeded his words.

This was an unexpected development, albeit a very welcomed one. Throughout the conversation she would taste her drink, pleasantly surprised that the description the monarch had provided it with was very accurate. Geminidae, with its endless rock formations, was an abundant source of metal ores, crystals and minerals of all types. Even with the technology and the thoroughness that her people employed when looking for such reserves, it was expected that even new types of such substances still laid undiscovered. As he gestured his command, the geminaie took a seat across the one that would be his own on the table and readied her answer. His last condition was a surprise, one that brought a small smile to her face.

"I am gladdened to hear your proposal, your Grace. Those mineral ores are indeed something we could provide Illyria with, and after this visit I hold no doubts that your home-world has much to offer ours too." She replied, "I will elevate this idea to my Queen, and in the meantime I can say I personally believe you will be greeted with a very favorable response. With the steady growth of commerce, I am sure another sovereign planet and specially one which shares the Wild Space will be easily welcomed as a trading companion. As for your condition, I am honored you would find me worthy of such task and should your proposal be embraced, I will eagerly look forward to working alongside his Majesty. It is my desire and purpose to accomplish my role and serve my people with integrity and efficiency whenever I am called forth, occasions such as this one in which it is also enjoyable and insightful are surprisingly rare and I have you to thank for this one, your Grace." Her last words came accompanied by a respectful bow of her head, she did not wish to waste the opportunity to thank her host for his hospitality and for having shared some of his knowledge and opinions with her.

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 
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The King found these circumstances to be, not only enjoyable, but beneficial for all in the long run. Not merely his own people, but the people of Geminidae. His lips curled into a small smile as he raised his flute to the woman in a small salute. The Sith Lord believed that the foundation of true society in the galaxy would be one of the deciding factors in ending the hellish galactic struggle that had ensued for years. Would it mean the end of War? Of course not, however the more societies that agreed to turn their eyes towards prosperity, the less would stand against his own Homeworld. For a shallow moment the King wondered how deeply he could twist the woman before him? Could he destroy her being to the core? Rebuild her into an image that could become an advantageous ally for him? He would certainly try.

"Now. It is custom for a banquet to be held once such an agreement has been reached. So I will have my people make contact with your government, drafting a trade agreement. Once it has been accepted and the proper contract modifications made, we will celebrate. I would invite your Sovereign to my world." The King stood up, opening up a compartment in the desk and producing a piece of parchment. He pulled out a pen and signed across the paper as he spoke. "Times are perilous and the safety of the Aristocracy is paramount. We must protect ourselves from those who would otherwise attempt to do our ways of life harm. This is a written acknowledgement of safety. This, provided to your people, will allow them safe passage and escort through out the Confederacy of Independent Systems. They need only make contact with any of our border-planet defense fleets and then an armed escort will bring them to Illyria."

Once the parchment was written up, the man produced a metal object, similar to the one he'd used earlier to print his seal on a document. This time he pressed the metal stamp onto the paper and it left a unique impression of the CIS emblem, the seal of the Exarch's.

"There we are." He said, rolling up the parchment and giving it an external seal as well. He walked over to the ambassador and held the document out to her.

As Adron looked to Palm he could sense the curiosity and blatant enjoyment that came from the woman. She fed on the knowledge and insight as if starved for it and this only intrigued the Sith Lord more and more. He would see the woman well fed and in her growth, shake the very foundations of the Geminidae. "To the future of Geminidae and Illyria." He said, raising his flute once again before taking a measured sip.
 
ᴡᴇᴀᴘᴏɴɪᴢᴇᴅ ᴅɪᴘʟᴏᴍᴀᴛ
She had found the King to be a deeply intriguing man, as most powerful beings usually were. However, much like the reflecting pool that had moved her so, he had not only inspired her admiration but her caution. It was to be expected, in a way, for there were no doubts that he was a Master of the Darkside and just like it; stirred feelings of both curiousness and danger. And yet despite the doubt and the uneasiness that still coursed through her for the time being and which had meddled with the absolute neutrality she was used to, she had not lied when she said she would look forward to future meetings. There was much to be learned, even if the knowledge was not to be applied, from the High Lord of Illyria and nothing worth knowing or having came without its risks.

A hint of a smile appeared on her lips at the mention of this custom. Geminians were rarely hosts to any grand events because of their reclusive nature, but they still appreciated their existence both for their potential to be enjoyable and as a very exploitable tool for social and diplomatic purposes. A banquet sounded like a magnificent idea, and she was certain her Sovereign would be pleased at the prospect of visiting Illyria herself. The King then proceeded to prepare a safe-passage document, gesture which Palm deeply appreciated for it would make the logistics easier for her fellow Ambassadors and herself. As to all loyal subjects, the safety of their monarch was of paramount importance; specially since news of her leaving would undoubtedly stir the fear of the public who were unused to the idea of having their ruler stray away from them.

"This is most appreciated, your Majesty." Her pleasant voice came forth once more as she accepted the parchment, daring to meet the amethyst eyes of the King with her own for a second. Her mind was already silently working on potential travel routes, ever diligent to its work and responsibilities. It was a rare combination to have the assiduity of a perfectionist artist but the untamed inquisitiveness of a child, eager to know everything that surrounded them. She was a balance of both.

As their conversation neared its end and the monarch made his toast, the woman smiled more fully than she had before, the brightness of it slightly reaching her eyes which had otherwise been neutral and unmoved for the length of their meeting. This day would see benefits for two planets, there was cause to be contented. Raising her own flute in response, she repeated the words in agreement "To the future." Taking the glass to her lips, she sipped the last of its contents. "I will look forward to our next encounter."

Adron Malvern Adron Malvern
 

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