Faction The Murkhana Festival

[Quuthut]

Location: Murkhana City
​

In the outer rim a movement has been growing across a dozen worlds; Jabiim, Cholganna, New Alderaan, Mon Cala, and many more have seen the weakness inherent in trying to remain independent in this chaotic galaxy. The planeshift disrupted a barely stable galactic order and the independent systems have suffered the most. Markets crashed, resources once abundant had to be found anew, and pirates and criminal elements thrived in the chaos. The past two years have been difficult, and those with the will to make their lives better have joined together for a better future. When a few friends; politicians, business magnates, and bureaucrats first met over a game of cards to discuss how to protect their worlds moving forward, the ideas they proposed seemed unobtainable. Yet the Confederacy of Free Worlds, has seen massive growth as an idea and as a movement since it has been first pitched to the masses. Planetary governments have slowled turned an ear to the benefits the CFW would bring, corporate interests have begun to invest to stabilize markets, and activists now take to the streets daily to call for political action.

That action has finally come. To celebrate the resilience of the Auril Sector and the surrounding worlds through the Plane Shift and their shared identity a grand festival has been organized by CFW officials on Murkhana in collaboration with that planet's government. Tens of thousands have taken to the streets to browse stalls, intermingle with their neighbors, and generally eat, drink, and be merry while more private gatherings are held by officials and business interests to intermingle and discuss the practical components of the movement.

Fireworks explode periodically above the crowd below as at the largest of these private meetings Admiral Quuthat takes to the stage. Before him, a hundred tables of delegates, politicians, ambassadors, CEOs, and celebrities sit waiting patiently. With a nod towards the production team his image would be broadcast through grandiose screens set about the square so that the public may listen to his address. With a broad Mon Calamari smile the admiral would begin:

"Today, is a glorious day for the Outer Rim. A day of peace, prosperity, and joy for all of us who have struggled these past few years. Things have not been easy, but we have done more than survive. Rather, we have thrived! And no individual, no planet, no government, can take full accountability for our prosperity. It is through uniting together, through aiding one another, we have weathered this storm. The past two years have shown us how going it alone doesn't work, it never has! The Galaxy is a chaotic place, prone to disaster and filled with tyrants who seek to conquer all they can. Yet it is also filled with hope and with those willing to stand up and unite against the worst aspects of this galaxy we call home. Tonight, is a celebration of that. A celebration of unity, a celebration of heroes, and a celebration of hope. A hope for a better tomorrow! Thank you all for attending-" He would pause to nod to the crowd before him, and then to the cameras that broadcast his image throughout the city and beyond "And thank you for sharing this dream with me. Tonight is a celebration, but is also a first step towards something greater. Thank you, for taking that step with me."

Admiral Quuthat would raise his fist in solidarity. The crowd before him would clap as the crowd outside would let out a roar of cheering and applause heard even from the highest tower in the city from when Quuthat's own private party was being held.

As the Admiral left the stage, servers would begin flooding the meeting hall to take the drink and meal orders of all who were in attendance. Already individuals were leaving their tables to intermingle to discuss a variety of topics. Quuthat himself would find his table near the center of the room, shaking a few hands and giving a few brief greetings as he shifted through the crowd. Finally sitting in his chair he'd let out a sigh of relief, looking about the room at what could genuinely be a bright future for his people.

Alex Stern Mu'awiya ben Barca Jonyna Si Miraya Thaine
(Anyone else is free to join, regardless of if you're a part of the CFW or not!)

 

[Alex Stern]

​

Alex loved a good party, especially on an occasion such as this, the coming together of people to celebrate the building of something new. Not a march of conquest or ego, but mutual benefit. At the conclusion of Admiral Quuthat's speech, Alex was up with the others, clapping and calling out "Here here! Well said!" Outer Rim Resources had always been pressing for and in support of raising up the Outer Rim and other impoverished territories. They'd supported numerous nations and groups doing it until the planeshift and spectacular collapse of several nations along the Outer and Mid-Rim set back their progress with a disruption of the trade lanes and economic depressions.

Now here they were again, restarting the process as they would every time. Only now the company had a much greater industrial capacity, secure routes, the resources, and manpower. What they laced was partners in local governance, the people to raise their hand and say there was a need and direct the flow of resources while providing the stability and governance needed for communities to grow and form economies of their own. Which was why he was here, Alex thought as he checked his smile, to form those relations.

Standing from his table, the Director went to mingle and see if he could take the lay of this new Confederacy.

 

[Mu'awiya ben Barca]

The Crucival delegation, led by the Opaline Creed, stood from their seats as the Admiral's speech ended and shuffled through the crowd like one indivisible rock cutting through a sea of sentients. They moved with humble confidence in their steps, but also the discipline of men who had spent much of their years in combat against a foe superior to them. Mu'awiya knew that, as best as they tried to fit in their newly tailored suits and formal outfits, they all still felt out of their skin.

This was the first time they had stripped their camo shirts and armor for the civillian attire of dignitaries; the first time they had stripped their nom de guerres for their real names; the first time they mingled off-world without hiding their faces that were plastered as terrorists across Imperial spaces; the first time they walked in wide open spaces without fearing the screams of a twin ion engine coming down upon them from the skies. Used to the confines of caves and tunnels and cramped spaces, the former militants now labored to keep their backs straight.

After the speech, they had met with the Jabiimi delegation and embraced them as brothers. The Jabiimi had played a pivotal role in training and aiding the Opaline Creed's struggle against both the Imperials and other factions warring for Crucival. Their greatest gift of all was the repulsorlift skates the Nimbus Commandos had trained the Creed to use, and their use played a key part in Operation Wings of Liberty's success that led the Creed to here as representatives of a world.

Debriefed by his closest confidante, his right-hand man, who now served as the minister of foreign affairs, of the possible invitees, Mu'awiya was quick to recognize the face of Mr. Alex Stern of the Outer Rim Resources corporation. To meet face-to-face with the other invitees was a secondary priority to finding capital for the rebuilding of his war-torn world. The Outer Rim Resources would be a great start.

Mu'awiya approached the man. "Mr.Stern." he said and offered a hand, "Mu'awiya ben Barca of Crucival."

Alex Stern Quuthut ​

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Judah stood and clapped after the speech was through. Rousing, to say the least. It was apparent the Admiral had grand ambitions of pushing the government forward. Just how successful they would be depended on a number of different factors. Given the Galactic Alliance finally dying all sorts of groups were trying to pop up to replace it. So far he had only seen the High Republic gain any sort of traction.

Speaking of, he was even more shocked to not be investigated for the death of Senator Monaray Dod . Judah had laid low for a bit, trying not to attend many events beyond that one for a salvage world trying to turn Empire. Curious if Danger Arceneau took them up on their offer - it would be stupid to but he was no one to the Trade Queen these days.

Yet there had been no knock on one of his many doors. No request for questioning sent to his legal team. Judah was unsure if they were getting all their facts, tailing him hoping he would "slip up", or simply hated Dod enough that they merely didn't care. Yet with the winds of accusation blowing(heh) away from him, the old salvager was back making the rounds at events.

He had already spotted Alex Stern - a young man who had hooked up with another representative at the Empire pitch. Beyond that many of his fellow corporate colleagues he had yet to see.

Sitting back down, trays of food were starting to circulate throughout the space. Champagne was also starting to flow and he snagged two from a passing waiter, passing one to his guest for the evening, Miss Iandre Athlea . Judah hadn't heard from her only to discover the woman now a widow. Her husband dead and the Diarchy in tatters.

So he had extended an invitation to neutral ground for the evening. Surprisingly she had agreed.

"Thank you for accompanying me this evening. I imagine it wasn't easy getting here."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre had chosen elegance without spectacle. Her gown, a deep blue-gray, the color of twilight, flowed to the floor in graceful, deliberate lines. Fine silver embroidery traced the seams like branching starlight, visible only when it caught the glow of the hall. With sheer sleeves and a modest neckline, the design spoke of craftsmanship rather than display.

Her hair was styled with equal restraint. Drawn back into a low, sophisticated arrangement at the nape of her neck. Fine braids added texture to the style, leaving a few soft strands to frame her face. Together, the look reflected a woman touched by sorrow, yet one who carried herself with unwavering dignity.

She stood beside Judah as applause filled the hall following Admiral Quuthat's speech. Her own claps were measured; her expression remained thoughtful rather than stirred. She knew that while unity was easy to praise, it was far more difficult to sustain.

When Judah offered her a glass, she accepted it with a small inclination of her head.

"Thank you, Judah," she said softly.

As fireworks flashed beyond the high windows, casting brief colors across the dignitaries and polished floors, she took a measured sip. The room was a tapestry of politics: delegates, industrialists, soldiers, and opportunists.

"He gave them what they needed," she observed, referring to the admiral. "A vision large enough to gather many different ambitions beneath it."

There was no cynicism in her tone, only a quiet realism.

"Whether it becomes durable will depend on what happens after tonight, when the speeches no longer carry the room."

Her attention returned fully to Judah, and some of her formality eased.

"Your invitation surprised me," she admitted with quiet honesty. "But it was welcome."

Her fingers shifted slightly against the stem of her glass as she looked at him.

"I have kept too much to myself since Rellik's passing. Aside from one journey with Aiden, I have allowed grief to become a very private company. So no, it was not easy getting here, but I think it was necessary."

A faint trace of warmth finally touched her expression.

"And I am grateful you thought to ask."

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Taking a sip of the champagne, there was a small shrug of his shoulders as Miss Iandre Athlea mentioned the speech. It was true that after tonight the governments involved would have to carry through. Judah wasn't aware of much of the doctrine the Confederacy was peddling. If he had to guess autonomous worlds bound together by a contract to assist one another in conflict or disaster.

"There is no need to thank me for the invitation. I am glad you decided to join me however and that I could help provide a small necessary change." He paused and gestured to himself, clad in a basic black-and-white suit. "I should be groveling before you for joining a scraggy old man out for an evening."

Judah chuckled and took another sip of his champagne, thinking.

"I hate to say I'm not quite sure what to say or what subjects to broach. I don't even think I have anything to say about Confederacy beyond what I just mentioned and it seems trivial to speak of business."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

A faint smile touched Iandre's lips at his self-deprecating remarks, brief but genuine, the kind of expression that appeared more in the eyes than the mouth. It softened her features without fully dispelling the deep-seated sorrow that still lived behind them, a silent ghost that haunted her every movement.

"You are not old, Judah," she said calmly, lifting her glass slightly in a silent toast before taking a measured, careful sip. "I am the one who belongs to a millennium long past, a relic of an age turned to dust. By comparison, you are doing quite well indeed."

There was a glimmer of dry humor in the observation, gentle enough not to invite further dramatics, but warm enough to meet him where he stood in the present.

Her gaze drifted briefly across the hall again, taking in the vibrant snap of the banners, the rehearsed smiles of the delegates, and the careful, almost fragile choreography of optimism that filled the air.

"I do wonder," she continued after a moment, her voice carrying a weight of memory, "if they are anything like the Confederacy of my time, or if history has simply found a new mask to wear."

The words carried the weight of quiet thought rather than the sharp edge of tension.

"Not in their physical structure, perhaps, but in the seductive nature of their promise. Many coalitions begin with such noble language, promises of mutual defense, shared prosperity, and unyielding cooperation. Some become exactly what they intended. Others, however, slowly warp into something far less recognizable, losing their soul to the very power they sought to distribute."

She let the thought rest there, allowing the silence to hang between them rather than darkening the evening further with the failures of the past.

Turning back to him, she gave a small, composed incline of her head, refocusing her attention entirely on her companion.

"As for our subjects of conversation, they need not be grand or world-shaking simply because the room around us thinks itself so desperately important."

Her fingers shifted lightly on the cool, slender stem of the glass, a restless movement she quickly stilled.

"We may speak of business, if the thrill of the deal still interests you. We may speak of politics if the theater of it all happens to amuse you. Or, we could speak of nothing serious at all, if you find that silence and triviality would be the greater luxury tonight."

The faint, ghostly trace of her smile returned, reaching her eyes once more.

"You invited me here to spare me the burden of my own thoughts for an evening, a task I suspect is harder than it looks. I leave the method of my distraction entirely to your expertise."

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Right, I forgot you are one of those frozen in time people."

A truthful admission, he typically went by the outward appearance of someone to guess age. Not a wise thing to do when the 'verse was full of long-lived species, clones, and those unthawed. Not something he thought of everyday and it was not something most people would admit to him in a business contract.

Settling back in his chair, he chose to watch the crowd for a moment while listening to Iandre Athlea .Perhaps he would offer her to dance but for now he could tell they both were reading the room. His gaze watched as the Admiral greeted a few party goers, uttering words he could not hear at this distance.

"Gathering a group of individual banners is extremely difficult. I tried to organize and run a Corporate Interest Guild. Started well at first then turned to disaster. Each business had their own agenda, naturally, and were so varied that we often worked against one another. I can see the Confederacy being the same....although with larger powers knocking on the door across the galaxy they may be able to put petty squabbles aside."

A sip of his champagne as he mulled over his words. Still stung that CIG could not last as long as he liked.

"A difficult task I signed up for and will do my best to execute to the fullest of my abilities. Considering we are the least important beings in this room, I'll try not to inflate our self worth by speaking of anything of real importance."

Head inclined towards her. Thoughts danced through his head, trying to find something that was truly of no consequence.

"Have you been watching The Turncoat holoseries? Washed up holostars badly acting and trying to find out who among them wants the others off the show."

 

[Iandre Athlea]

A faint smile returned at his blunt admission, softer this time and touched with a quiet self-awareness that almost bordered on melancholy. It was the look of someone who had spent a lifetime holding onto things, only to realize how much the holding had changed her.

"Perhaps I should not dwell so much on my distant past either," she said, her voice carrying a soft, melodic weight as she lifted her glass. She took a measured sip, the amber liquid catching the light like a fading sunset. "It seems I make it too easy for others to remember what I would rather let rest."

There was no sting in the remark, only the tired honesty of someone who had lived through enough cycles of grief to know that some shadows never truly leave the room; they simply learn to stand in the corners.

Her gaze followed his briefly across the ballroom, observing the currents of conversation and calculation that moved beneath the evening's polished surface. To her, the room felt thin, a stage play of delegations forming and dissolving, alliances tested in the space between a smile and a half-finished promise. It was a dance she knew well, yet one that felt increasingly hollow.

"I can only imagine how difficult it would be to keep corporations aligned," she continued, turning back to him with a focus that was both sharp and weary. "Governments at least pretend to share a civic purpose, a collective soul to appeal to. Businesses are often more honest about their competing appetites."

The slightest trace of dry, almost brittle humor touched her expression.

"Though honesty does not necessarily make them easier to manage. Sometimes, the truth is just another wall to climb."

When he mentioned the holoseries, her brows lifted just slightly, a flicker of genuine surprise breaking through her guarded reserve.

"I have not watched much of popular holodramas or serial entertainment," she admitted, a hint of genuine regret coloring the words. "My life has rarely aligned itself with leisurely viewing habits. There was always a duty, a crisis, or a… silence that needed tending to."

She considered the premise for a moment before giving a small, graceful shake of her head.

"It does not sound like something I would naturally be drawn to, if I am honest. I have seen enough real drama to last several lifetimes. But," she added, her eyes meeting his with a flicker of renewed presence, "odder things have happened in this galaxy."

Her attention returned fully to him then, the weight of her history pulled back just enough to let a quiet, sincere curiosity shine through.

"Tell me something less consequential instead," she said gently, her voice lowering to a pitch that felt meant for him alone in the crowded room. "Before the weight of the galaxy settled on your shoulders, when you were young, and the world felt vast, what did you imagine you would become?"

Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Current holoseries are not a subject of small talk, noted."

Judah was not a big holo watcher but it was something he did indulge in while eating dinner alone. Something about sitting on the couch after a long day and turning on a mindless and relatively moronic program to disappear in to. He knew it wasn't everyone's cup of tea so it was no surprise Iandre Athlea did not follow.

"I do not remember having any real ambitions beyond leaving Saleucami, which I did as soon as I could." Brows furrowed as he tried to think about professions or hobbies he wanted to have as a small boy. If he did have them beyond leaving it was eluding him in the moment. "Now as a young man, say eighteen, I had ambitions of being a hot-shot fighter pilot instructor. Eventually, of course. Couldn't just enter the military at the top."

Gaze turned to her once again.

"What about you? Let me guess....Jedi?"

 

[Aurine Werr]

Tags: Iandre Athlea | Judah Dashiell | Alex Stern | Mu'awiya ben Barca | Quuthut | Open
Location: Murkhana City
Outfit: Clothes

Aurine sat at the table her dark green and burgundy dress hugging her body, skirt pleated as it was. Aurine was taking in the atmosphere & snacking on hors d'oeuvres. These people were, at least word wise promising to take the CIS and forge it anew... Aurine was ready to pledge Tarisian resources to the cause, especially since the three families had original CIS ship contracts that they have been updating designs of ever since. Quuthut was the last to speak to the crowds spread out before himself.

"Today, is a glorious day for the Outer Rim. A day of peace, prosperity, and joy for all of us who have struggled these past few years. Things have not been easy, but we have done more than survive. Rather, we have thrived! And no individual, no planet, no government, can take full accountability for our prosperity. It is through uniting together, through aiding one another, we have weathered this storm. The past two years have shown us how going it alone doesn't work, it never has! The Galaxy is a chaotic place, prone to disaster and filled with tyrants who seek to conquer all they can. Yet it is also filled with hope and with those willing to stand up and unite against the worst aspects of this galaxy we call home. Tonight, is a celebration of that. A celebration of unity, a celebration of heroes, and a celebration of hope. A hope for a better tomorrow! Thank you all for attending-" He would pause to nod to the crowd before him, and then to the cameras that broadcast his image throughout the city and beyond "And thank you for sharing this dream with me. Tonight is a celebration, but is also a first step towards something greater. Thank you, for taking that step with me."

Aurine stands up from her chair and raises a toast "To the new Confederacy!" Downing the drink and then looking around seeing others start to mingle she heads that way. To some they knew her as the CEO of Werr Drive Yards, & Werr Shipping & Security, to others they knew her as the newly elected Chancellor of the Tarisian Republic. But she wanted to know the nitty gritty of what could be.

Aurine started off towards Alex Stern & Mu'awiya ben Barca as a good place to start. Catching her eye was the familiar face from the holos of Judah Dashiell his corporation being in so many places in the outer rim. Places that Werr Shipping & Security often moved food, goods, and materials.

 

[Alex Stern]

Alex guessed the other man was about his age as he got the Director's attention, seemingly already knowing who he was. "Mu'awiya, that was a hell of a fight yall went through." He replied, shaking the other man's hand, letting some of his 'Rim accent slip through. He didn't know if this man was one of the fighters himself, though he had the look. "I'm glad we can be among those helping you put it all back together." Nice and easy introduction that left the conversation wide open to wherever Mu'awia wanted to take it. Alex was also going to let someone else be the first to start talking business at a party.

Also approaching was a cute young lady with tattoos down her face and neck, along with sharp-pointed ears. "Hello there!" He warmly greeted her to the group. "Don't think we've met, Alex Stern of Outer Rim Resources, and this," he gestured towards Mu'awia, "is one of our hosts, Mu'awiya ben Barca of Crucival."

Mu'awiya ben Barca Aurine Werr Judah Dashiell Iandre Athlea Quuthut

 

[Aurine Werr]

Tags: Iandre Athlea | Judah Dashiell | Alex Stern | Mu'awiya ben Barca | Quuthut | Open
Location: Murkhana City
Outfit: Clothes




Aurine hadn't the time to open her mouth before Alex spoke.

Also approaching was a cute young lady with tattoos down her face and neck, along with sharp-pointed ears. "Hello there!" He warmly greeted her to the group. "Don't think we've met, Alex Stern of Outer Rim Resources, and this," he gestured towards Mu'awia, "is one of our hosts, Mu'awiya ben Barca of Crucival."

Aurine flashed a smile "Hello. We have not met. My name is Aurine Werr current CEO of Werr Drive Yards and Werr Shipping & Security. I am also the very recently elected chancellor or the Tarisian Republic, which includes my home world of Flax as a member." Turning slightly to Mu'awiya "Well met Mu'awiya ben Barca, What's your official title?"

She glanced over towards Judah's direction and back before speaking after the two replied.

"Sorry for the briefness, I have to go talk to someone I spotted before they disappear. I will return shortly"
Giving a slight curtsy before hurrying off.

Walking up to Judah Dashiell and his well dressed female companion, she smiled giving a curtsy "Hello Mr Dashiell, I recognize you from the holos but never ran across you in the social world. My name is Aurine Werr, CEO of Werr Drive Yards and of Werr Shipping & Security. Also recently elected Chancellor of the Tarisian Republic." Pausing for a moment "I wanted to introduce myself and exchange contact before the evening got too chaotic." Producing a holo puck with the Werr company logo on it, handing it to him. Turning to his well dressed female companion "What is your name?"

 

[Iandre Athlea]

A faint, genuine smile touched Iandre's lips at Judah's answer, appearing far warmer than the earlier ones and carrying the quiet appreciation of someone hearing a truth offered entirely without embellishment.

"There is something refreshingly honest in that perspective," she said softly, her voice steady and thoughtful. "It is not a matter of grand destiny or chasing impossible dreams, but simply the sincere wish to leave where you were and become something more than your circumstances originally allowed."

She studied him for a brief moment as if she were mentally fitting the younger man he had just described beside the one seated before her now.

"A fighter pilot instructor," she repeated, allowing the faintest hint of amusement to color her tone. "I can certainly see it now, as you seem confident enough to be admired yet stubborn enough to survive the unpredictable nature of your students."

When he turned the question back toward her, her expression shifted almost immediately, appearing touched by the weight of memory rather than the sharp sting of sorrow.

"No," she answered gently, the word lingering in the air for a second. "I was never intended to be simply a Jedi."

Her fingers settled deliberately against the stem of her glass as she gathered her thoughts.

"When I was young, my greatest ambition was to become a Temple Guardian on Coruscant," she admitted, and there was a profound sense of reverence in her words that felt both quiet and ancient. "I wanted to protect something truly sacred and stand watch over knowledge that was significantly older than myself, as it all seemed like such a noble certainty back then."

Before more could be said, the new arrival approached the table, and Iandre's attention shifted smoothly toward Aurine. She took in the poised curtsy and the practiced introduction, noting the polished efficiency of someone who was clearly accustomed to moving quickly through important rooms.

At the mention of recognizing Judah from the holos, one of her elegant brows rose by a fraction, and her gaze flicked once toward him with a newfound sense of thoughtfulness. It occurred to her then that this was likely why he had tested the waters earlier with mentions of holodramas and popular series, suggesting that perhaps there was more of Judah Dashiell in public circulation than he had originally led her to believe.

It was certainly a question she would save for later.

For now, she inclined her head with composed courtesy toward Aurine to acknowledge her presence.

"It is a genuine pleasure to meet you, Chancellor Werr," she said, keeping her tone measured and warm without allowing it to slip into overfamiliarity. "I am Iandre Athlea."

She offered a graceful nod in return, her silver earrings catching the light as she moved.

"Please allow me to offer my congratulations on your recent election, though I imagine that evenings such as this one have become significantly less optional for you lately."

The faintest trace of dry humor touched her expression before she allowed the moment to settle, intentionally giving Judah the necessary space to answer for himself while she quietly observed the new current entering their conversation.

Aurine Werr Judah Dashiell

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Stubborn?" Judah laughed, he had heard that one before. "As for yourself, you seem far too complicated to merely be a Jedi. Temple Guardian? I can see that but what is stopping you today from doing such a thing? Not maybe the original vision you had for yourself but I am sure there are plenty of dusty Jedi buildings that could use a critical but caring eye."

Judah was imagining the position much like a museum curator. Part protector, part curator and caretaker to maintain the structure and items inside.

"Think about it."

Just as he was about to offer more insights, a Chancellor and business woman approached their table, offering a holo puck. He took the item and looked at it, placing the holopuck in his suit jacket breast pocket. He emerged with a card of his own, one that had a direct line to himself. A sign he was interested in meeting again or hearing out the Chancellor.

"A pleasure to meet you Miss Werr. Congratulations on your recent election. I've heard of the company but had no idea you were a government official."

Iandre had introduced herself and the old salvager motioned to the empty seats at the table. He and Miss Athlea were the only ones seated, most had absconded off.

"You're more than welcomed to join Miss Athlea and I."

Aurine Werr | Iandre Athlea ​

 

[Quuthut]

Location: Murkhana City
​

Quuthat was tired. Most of the past week had been dedicated to arranging everything just right. The right dignitaries all needed to be appeased, their individual preferences catered to, and their requirements of attendance met. Security was tight, and already he heard the buzz of security in his ear piece confirming a few would-be trouble makers trying to sneak into the party had been caught. They'd spend the night in a cell, he was assured. Nothing worst than enough time to give their bodies time to work through the alcohol and bad decisions.

With a beaming smile he chatted idly with a few notable faces at his table; Djetto Thul from New Alderaan who he had worked with to court the great houses of that venerable planet, Administrator Chasssax of the Bal'demnic Mining Corporation who had been one of the earliest funders of the movement, and Stratus Markiim of the Jabiim Nimbus Commandos who was busy answering the security com as he oversaw tonight's defenses; it was strange seeing him out of armor.

Each of them he thanked for being here before retreating from the table to the drink bar, grabbing a flute of champagne as he eyed the room looking for some newer faces he could introduce himself to. Most of those sitting at his table were friends, those he'd see again, what he needed instead was promising new additions to the movement. It would only take him a few minutes to find his mark, a collection of newcomers congregating together.

He would approach slowly, taking a sip of the champagne before butting in on the conversation with a fishy grin

"Ah! Chancellor, congratulations on your recent electoral victory!" he'd bow his head in respect to Aurine Werr as he spoke, before turning to Judah Dashiell

"And welcome Mr. Dashiell, thank you for attending this little party! It helps me feel not so old with all of these young one's around." He'd let out a jolly laugh, barely able to finish his sentence. It would take him a bit of struggling to contain his laughter as to not draw too much attention, before taking a sip of his champagne.

"And speaking of such matters-" he would turn to look at Iandre Athlea "I do not believe we have been introduced miss..?" he'd let the sentence trail off, an open question as he would look expectantly at the newcomer.

 

[Iandre Athlea]

Iandre's attention shifted smoothly as the newcomer joined their small gathering, her posture remaining poised as she rose just enough from her seat to acknowledge the approach before settling again with practiced grace. She had observed enough of the room already to know who he was without needing the introduction. Men who built movements tended to carry a particular gravity around them, whether they wished to or not.

"You honor me with the question, Admiral," she said, her tone calm and warm, pitched perfectly for polite company without becoming performative. "Iandre Athlea."

She let the name stand on its own. Titles had become complicated things, and in a room full of people clamoring for status, there was a certain power in simplicity.

"And thank you. It has been an interesting evening to witness."

Her gaze moved briefly across the hall, taking in the banners, mingling delegates, and the countless private conversations hidden inside the public celebration before returning to him.

"You have assembled many worlds, many interests, and many ambitions under one roof. That is no small feat, even before the governing begins."

There was respect in the observation, but also realism. She had seen how quickly a unified front could fracture once the music stopped and the real work of compromise began. She lifted her glass slightly in acknowledgment toward both the Admiral and the companions at her table.

"Congratulations on what you have begun."

A faint trace of thoughtful humor touched her expression then.

"Though I suspect by the end of the night you may need something stronger than champagne."

Her attention softened by a fraction, sincere now beneath the polished exchange.

"I hope you will forgive a direct question from someone new to your movement. Is tonight meant primarily as a celebration…or as proof that unity here can truly endure beyond speeches?"

She asked it without challenge, only honest curiosity from a woman who had seen enough governments rise beautifully and fail quietly.

Quuthut Judah Dashiell Aurine Werr Alex Stern Mu'awiya ben Barca

 

[Mu'awiya ben Barca]

"Thank you," Mu'awiya said. He smiled a little. "We are glad for the chance to leave the fighting and begin again."

There was nothing he wanted more than to make his world whole. He wanted it quiet, ordered, and alive like the good worlds he had seen from afar. But it would not be easy.

Then, Mr. Stern introduced him to the new chancellor of the Tarisian Republic. "Congratulations on your recent election," he said, "I am called President now."

The word felt strange to him, foreign. From a commander of a militia, a caliph of the believers of the Opaline Creed, a wanted terrorist by the Imperial Confederation regime. Now he stood in clean clothes among officials and soft voices. It did not seem real.

When the chancellor left them, Mu'awiya looked at Mr. Stern. "It comes without saying that we are in eager need for investments in the most basic of things... our world has been completely ravaged by the constant wars."​

Alex Stern Aurine Werr Iandre Athlea Judah Dashiell Quuthut