A P E X
R Y L O T H
Aboard the Fortressa
Orbit. Local Time: 19:41
To say the very least, Darth Metus was pleased.
In recent history, the Viceroyalty had seen fit to band together of their own volition. For the first time since their founding, the numerous representatives sat together and broke bread over common ideals and concerns. Thus far, despite the Confederacy’s steady expansion, there had yet to be such a gathering. Now, it seemed the stage was set for a true community to take root within their nation. Interplanetary progress would skyrocket. Prosperity would skyrocket. The cause of the Confederacy would be cemented by their efforts. Now was the time to lay his own concerns at their feet.
And though he had the power to do so alone, he trusted in their judgment. He trusted in the trillions they represented. Darth Metus was no tyrant, no matter what religious title formed his name. He was not a mad king who turned a deaf ear to the desires of his people. He would go about this the right way; and should things not go as anticipated, he would respect the will of the people. For now, he obeyed the unspoken rules of the Viceroyalty. As he was the one who had concerns to bare, he was the one who would play host for their gathering. To this end, the jewel of the Confederate Armada had been parked in the orbit above Ryloth - his newfound home.
Within the belly of this beast was an executive conference room for meetings such as these. A number of comfortable seats had been arranged in a neat circle about a round table. There was simple holoprojecter in the center of the table, which currently displayed an azure image of Confederate territory. A pair of attendant droids were the sole company that the Vicelord had at this current time, and they busied themselves adorning the table with refreshments. Water was the primary beverage, but tea, caf, and other delicacies were readily available upon request.
Today, Darth Metus had three concerns to lay before his peers.
First, the matter of [member="Srina Talon"] and her place within their nation. She had been fulfilling a role that had no title. She had been speaking and acting with the authority of the Vicelord himself. And she was doing an exceptional job in every task that he challenged her with. And, as she succeeded, it became apparent that something had to be done - both to honor her efforts and to solidify her position within their nation. To him, she would always be his Srini. But what about to the trillions who now looked upon her with hope in their eyes? What was she to them?
Next was the matter of his House. There was a desire that needed to be addressed - a plea for a home to call their own. A place where changes in regime would not dictate their standing, or what they could do, where they laid their heads. While now, they could return to Manda’yaim, they could not be themselves. Simply sneezing the wrong way would see the true nature of the Mandalorian Empire brought against them. Their blood - the Force - was tolerated. Not accepted. They were tolerated. Not accepted.
And finally, there was the issue of War.
[member="Kip Ridel"], [member="Rex Taff"], [member="Rapax"], [member="Lyla Quinn"], [member="Derek Dib"], @Jasmine Zittoun, [member="Tmoxin Temi"], [member="Galven Hansol"], [member="Dalton Kenway"], @Tamar M’Raki, [member="Jorco Czeku"], [member="Tarssin Destat"], [member="Darth Malus"]