Junction THE TRINITY AFFAIR | TSC & THR Junction of Commenor and New Plympto

[Arris Windrun]

Aurelian Veruna
​

At least someone was having fun with it, Arris thought. Still, he wasn't wrong. At this point, she didn't expect the Black Sun had anything left for her, and that chapter was already at an end before the syndicate expired.

When he mentioned the Republic's reputation for clinical retaliation, she smirked.

"Yeah, so I've heard. Should I expect an elite squad to save the day?"

She experienced her first hand, after all, when they came for Mauve du Vain. She hadn't heard anything about the Zeltron since that day. Dead as far as she knew or cared.

The cyborg leaned a little closer when his personal energy shield hummed and shimmered to life, then crossed her arms. Arris wondered if touching it would cost her a finger. She looked back at him, eye-to-eye, when he questioned the thoroughness of their plans.

'How's that working out so far?'
"Oh, I dunno... I mean, you're standing here, yeah?"

His assessment of their campaign against the Empire was pretty much true, so he'd find no argument there. Besides, he asked a good question to top it all off.

"It's a good question, but not for us."

Arris looked around the room as if expecting her thoughts to materialize.

"I'll give you a freebie, okay? All of this... Whether it's Kattada, Edic Bar, Tapani, Coruscant, or right now... It ain't strategy. We're just running the table until we bust."

She looked down at the floor with a fragile smirk on her face. "Makes us less interesting, doesn't it? If you'd like, you can pretend we're anything but a bunch of freebooting hacks who succeed on personality alone."

 

[Dominique Vexx]

"Dialogue, Envoy, is the only way we live through times like these." Dominique leaned forward with her hands atop the table. "It may seem the prudent move to conquer worlds. To plants flags. Or simply enjoy every moment like it's the last. But I assure you, apart from any one person's pleasure, the long-play is dialogue."

A nod followed Lysander's concern. "Diplomatic officials enjoy certain rights in the Republic, Envoy. An assurance expecting reciprocation, which is how you can come to count on it holding despite obvious misgivings at the beginning. If they did not, they would be risking their freedom and perhaps their life to speak with us, which would do nothing to foster dialogue. So, if you were to come with us, I could ensure your personal safety and," Dominique paused for just a second, "your freedom to return to the Covenant at the time of your choosing."

The Chancellor slowly settled back into her chair. "There are, of course, certain stipulations. No engaging in criminal activity -- including espionage. You would be expelled with all due haste under such circumstances. I cannot imagine you have any designs to engage in something so odious that normal diplomatic responses would not apply." The most egregious examples being acts of mass murder and terrorism. The good grace of a nation could only be reasonably expected to go so far.

"Of course, things would go smoother if we were not forced to hastily relocate. During such turbulent circumstances any number of things could happen. Events that might ruin otherwise solid solutions to our common problems."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

The impact rang through Lorn's arms. He bore down into the lock, teeth clenched, weight pressing forward through his shoulders and into the blade. Acier held it. That alone said enough.

Their eyes met. Up close, there was no mistaking it. The dark side wasn't just around him. It was bleeding off him. Controlled, yes. Focused. That almost made it worse.

Lorn pushed harder. Break him early, he thought. Don't let this drag.

Acier moved first. The shift came through the Force a fraction before the kick. Lorn turned his knee just enough to catch it, but the impact still forced him to give ground. The pressure in the lock broke. His advantage slipped.

Lorn's blade dropped with the release, striking down as Acier pivoted out of line, his blade crashing into the ground. He felt the movement to his left before he saw it. He was young and nimble.

The return strike came immediately. No hesitation in it. Lorn rolled forward into his own strike.. The blue blade cut past where he had been a heartbeat before. Close. Too close.

He let himself drop into the movement, rolling with it. One knee hit the deck hard, but he used it. Turned it into position instead of recovery.

Don't fight his speed. Break it.

From the crouch, Lorn lashed out. A wide, horizontal swing from right to left, cut low across the corridor, aimed for Acier's legs. Brutal. Direct. No elegance to it. Just force and intent.

His style had never been clean. No temple drills. No perfect sequences. War had shaped it. Fighting men who didn't care about form. Who came at you wild, desperate, and fast. You didn't win those fights by being precise. You won by surviving longer than they did.

Lorn pushed up from the crouch immediately after the swing, driving forward again. No pause. No reset. He kept the pressure on, stepping into Acier's space and bringing his blade diagonally back up in a tight, rising arc meant to force him back.

 

[Ghruna]

Zaiya Ceti

The argument was making her head hurt.

Her hand lifted slightly, fingers flexing. The motion stopped halfway, as if caught in an invisible vice. The faint distortion of the field shimmered where her reach ended. That only made her jaw tighten further.

"What would be impressive in that? Anyone could do that? Sitting on your own hands proves nothing!"

Ghruna growled again. Jhyrack had told her of choosing the right battles.

"You are trying to trick me because you do not want to fight."

Ghruna crossed her arms over her chest and glowered at the colourful jedi.

"Colourful little thing. I bet they keep you around as a pretty decoration if you are such a coward."

It was a pointless, cheap thing to say. She was not proud of it.

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Dominique Vexx
​

Perhaps a few questions yet to be asked were answered, narrowing the field. The intent wasn’t doubted, but the systems were, already outlined by their prior conversation.

A hum bled into the next breath he released. “Dialogue may well be the only path that survives the century,” given slowly in a more measured tone. “And I don’t disagree that this opportunity is not one to squander.” Fingers shifted in a way that suggested thought. "I assure you I'm capable of speaking in terms longer than a single campaign. Which is why I'm still sitting here.”

“Boarding a Republic vessel is never a simple matter. Of course, it will be interpreted by those outside this room who didn’t witness this conversation, and surely they will fill the gaps with whatever their fears.. demand.” Paying the price for someone else’s anxieties was far from appealing. “We’ll need something more defined, Chancellor.”

Internal politics mattered too, which was why his gaze flicked to one of the Triumvirate members nearby, Arris Windrun . Not seeking approval per se, but noting the witness.

“We’ll request Articles of Safe Conduct guaranteeing safe passage and return as a matter of formal record.”

While sorting through the terms, he found his attention returning to the woman opposite him. “I’d expect there to be no detention nor administrative holds. I’m not inclined to walk through any door that locks behind me. Beyond that, there comes a point where security protocols stop protecting a conversation and start influencing it. I would prefer we remain on the right side of that line. Some measure of discretion is expected. Communication with my superiors would be essential, if only to keep speculation from settling in the wrong direction.”

He didn't lean back when she did, though a quiet curve of the lips might've suggested appreciation for the reasoning, all things considered. “If these conditions can be honored.. then yes. I’ll accompany you.”

Lysander let one palm angle toward her on the table. “Turbulence is no stranger to my people, Chancellor. I can’t hold the entire ground, but I will uphold my role.”

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: CSL Trinity

Equipment:
Apprentice Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

Ace's eyes tracked Lorn the entire way as he rolled. Ace didn't meet the Jedi's counter, he shifted back instead - just a short, controlled hop as the horizontal sweep cut through the space where his legs had been. He landed light, already resetting his stance.

He twirled his lightsaber through his left hand, a tight and practiced motion, wrist rolling the hilt once as the blue light cut a brief arc through the air before snapping back into line as Lorn immediately surged forward again.

This time, Ace stepped in to meet him. The blades collided again, catching Lorn's rising arc and binding between them for a split second, angled low between their bodies.

He didn't stall. Ace drove forward into the bind, leveraging the strength of his cybernetic forearm as he pressed down along Lorn's blade, attempting to collapse the upward momentum and force the weapon back toward the deck.

Then he broke away immediately, kicking off the deck and flipping backward. He cleared the space in a tight arc, landing a few steps out of range just as the bind dissolved.

His offhand snapped out and the Force answered. Behind Lorn, the torn blast door shuddered where it had been embedded in the wall. Then it tore free again, dragged violently across the deck as Ace wrenched it loose and hurled it forward, toward Lorn's back.

Ace moved immediately. He didn't expect the blast door to strike true, but he did expect it to break Lorn's rhythm. He closed the distance fast, stepping back into range as the door crossed the space between them. His first strike came hard and direct, an overhead strike driven straight down toward Lorn's centerline.

The second followed immediately, redirected off the first. His blade snapped across in a tight horizontal cut from right to left, aimed to catch Lorn mid-adjustment.

The third came without delay, a rising diagonal from low left to high right, stepping through with it, forcing forward pressure and closing whatever space remained between them.

Continuous force, aiming to force Lorn to deal with everything at once.

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

The blades crashed together again. Blue and gold flared between them, bright and violent. Acier met the strike head on this time, no retreat, no hesitation. Lorn felt the shift immediately.

Stronger. The cybernetic arm drove into the bind, forcing Lorn's blade downward. Sparks spat across the deck as the tip burned into the metal, carving a glowing line between them.

Lorn gritted his teeth. Too much pressure.

For a moment, the blade dipped lower. Then he pushed back. Every ounce of strength went into it, forcing the angle up, breaking the line just enough.

The release came fast. His saber tore upward and off course, slicing into the nearby wall as Acier disengaged. The metal hissed and split under the heat.

No time to recover. The Force shifted behind him. Lorn felt it before he saw it.

He turned, stepping hard to the side as the torn blast door ripped free again and came screaming toward his back. His left hand snapped out, catching it in the Force. The impact shuddered through him, but he held it just long enough to keep it from crushing him.

Then he let it drop. Too late. Acier was already there.

The overhead strike came down fast. Lorn brought his blade up horizontally, catching it just above his head. The impact drove through his arms, forcing him down a half step.

The next strike followed immediately. Too fast to reset. The horizontal cut slipped past his guard just enough. Heat tore across his right shoulder, a sharp, searing line. Lorn hissed under his breath and stepped back, creating space.

Not enough. Acier pressed in again. Relentless. Lorn brought his blade up, catching the next strike and locking it in place between them. Close again. Too close.

Lorn shifted his weight forward, angling the bind off his centerline. Then he snapped his head forward. The impact of the headbutt cracked between them.

In the same breath, Lorn reached out through the Force. His grip closed around Acier's left forearm. The cybernetic limb. He felt it immediately, the difference in it. The structure. The weakness.

The Force tightened. Crushing. Constricting. Not enough to tear it free. Not yet. Just enough to strain it. Lock it. Break the rhythm.

End this, he thought. Before he loses himself completely.

 

[Aurelian Veruna]

Tags: Arris Windrun

Aurelian let out a quiet chuckle at the mention of an elite squad. "Maybe," he said. "You've met one before, haven't you?"

The thought lingered longer than he let on. Nar Shaddaa. Mauve. The way that operation had unraveled. If they had been close, there was no sign of it now. Either she didn't care, or she had buried it well enough to pass for indifference.

Or she pulled the trigger for a reason, he thought. And I don't think it was boredom.

He let it go. For now. Instead, he listened. Really listened. And the more she talked, the more his expression shifted. Something close to disappointment, like he'd opened a gift and found it empty.

"It makes you incredibly uninteresting," he said plainly. Aurelian let out a short laugh, shaking his head. "How uninspiring you are."

He stepped back a half pace, giving her just enough space to study her again. Like maybe if he looked from a different angle, the answer would suddenly appear. "No plan?" he asked. "So that's it? You're just… waiting?" His eyes narrowed slightly. "Ready to accept it when this all inevitably collapses?" He tilted his head, thinking it through as he spoke. "What for? A little fun? A little chaos?"

That can't be it, he told himself. No one burns this bright just to flicker out. But she had said it so easily. Running the table until they bust.

Aurelian exhaled through his nose, almost amused again. "All you're doing is daring someone to get fed up enough to wipe you out," he said. "And eventually, someone will."

His gaze drifted for a moment, distant. And when the Republic decides to stop reacting and start planning…

He looked back at her. "You know this doesn't last." It wasn't a question.

Aurelian tapped a finger lightly against his arm, then shrugged, casual as ever. "So why not cut your losses?" His eyes held hers. "Leave the Core. Disappear before someone bigger decides you've overstayed your welcome." A faint smile pulled at the corner of his mouth. "I could pay far more than any Underlord ever could." He let that sit between them.

​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: CSL Trinity

Equipment:
Apprentice Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

The blast door didn't take him, Lorn had managed to intercept it. Ace saw him catch it in the Force, holding it just long enough to keep it from crushing him before letting it drop. Even under pressure, he was still there.

The first strike had driven him back. The second had landed, Ace felt it in the disruption of Lorn's guard. The third met plamsa again, and their blades locked, close and tight between them.

The headbutt came fast, cracking against Ace's brow. His head snapped back a fraction, but he didn't give ground. The pain flared and then dulled, swallowed beneath the power of the Dark side coiling through him. What should have staggered him barely registered. His stance held. His blade held.

So did his gaze. Yellow burned in his eyes, nothing uncertain in them. A fixed, predatory focus, like a wolf that had already chosen its target and saw no reason to look anywhere else.

Then he felt it, not the strike, but the Force. Lorn's grip tightening around his left forearm. The cybernetic. Targeted. Constricting. Trying to lock him in place, to break his rhythm before it could build again. He could feel the pressure, the strain along the limb, the way Lorn was trying to control the engagement through it.

The bind didn't break, Ace kept the pressure with his left, holding Lorn there even as the Force pressed back against him. But his right hand moved, releasing the hilt, shifting to a one-handed grip as his free hand snapped to the back of his belt. The shoto came free in one smooth motion, and the second blade ignited instantly, its purple glow cutting sharp and close between them.

Ace moved without warning. The shorter blade drove forward in a tight, controlled line, angled in close to slip past the bind and cut toward Lorn's arms where they held the hilt.

He had enough sense left to pull the line short of lethal. Not to kill. But the intent behind it didn't soften. This wasn't mercy.

It was punishment.

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Delvin jeth​

"They both have flaws," Cora repeated in a thoughtful murmur. She studied the ray shielding for a few long moments, allowing her own thoughts to coalesce as Delvin's silhouette watched her from the other side. "I don't disagree. But as a man who has studied both the Light and the Dark, you've chosen to throw your lot in with the latter - I can't help but wonder why that is."

It appeared that some of her colleagues had found their way out. Cora and Delvin had no such luck, not yet. In the Force, a certain satisfaction clouded around Lysander's signature. It was here, for only a moment, that Cora allowed her gaze to slip towards the distant form of her brother. The son of a noble house, he'd been trained for diplomacy from an early age – she would assume, incorrectly, that this was all that he was in the Covenant.

Her gaze snapped back to Delvin, and she did not regard him unkindly.

Cora had met only a handful of Sith that truly despised the Jedi. Many regarded Light-bearers with a fleeting curiosity; either as momentary interests or as toys to poke and prod and manipulate. With their numbers dwindled and the Alliance shattered, they didn't pose as much of a threat against Sith expansion as they once had.

 

[Delvin jeth]

Corazona von Ascania

Delvin studied the power grid as he listened to cora "Nothing is perfect ms ascania everything has flaws" he said as he sensed the flow of the power through the force. "And as far as my relationship with the sith they allow me to do my studies in peace" delvin said standing there as he summoned the fallen sith lords lightsaber to his hand. As he angled it and activated it as the defense systems dropped within their hall way and surrounding rooms.

Delvin looked at the handle of the lightsaber "god this is terribly balanced" he said disgusted with the design as he looked at cora. "Better actually face to face shall we settle this with blade or stay civil" he offered standing there looking at her "i hold no negative emotion for the jedi in fact I have respect for so shall we work together" he offered.

 

[Tamsin Starfall]

Theme: War Pigs
OBJ: Sabotage
Equipment: Twin Omens | Multi-Tool | Stars Enchained | Mind Crown | Wrist Lanvarok
Tags: Zark San Tekka

He didn't negotiate, spoke like a true jedi the mocking thought passing through her mind. How many lives would have been saved through out time in this endless war of Jedi and Sith. If Jedi would have chosen to negotiate rather than fight in the first place. The thought was passing because the past could not be changed. The Jedi had chosen their path as did this one before her as he came at her with his strike.

Her saber ignited into violet snap-hiss of plasma with just a thought, rising above her head as he came down hard and fast with his golden blade. The sabers slammed into each other hard and violently sparks flew between them. Tamsin had to use both her hands to brace against the power behind his downward swing.

Even then the force of it caused knees to start to buckle. Her right leg slipped backwards a little to try and brace herself a bit better as the force of the blow wanted her to drop to her knees a dangerous position. As he told her there was always hope for a second chance, she let out a little laugh. Her eyes looked up between the crossed blades as her saber thrummed hard as she pushed more force into the blade's crystal and it started to burn hotter.

Her eyes flared up like bright suns in the middle of her face. "I am of Dathomir. But I am no Child Jidai." She said between gritted teeth her eyes and blade flaring. As she did it her left wrist slid up on the grip of her saber as she dropped to one knee making her even smaller. Yet as her left hand switched grip the sleeve of her cloak slid down revealing her wrist lanvarork. A single disk fired from the lanvarok flying up between her and the jedi passing through the open spaces between the blades clashing.

"Infuse akaf y'sadla, hiso BOOM!" She said in a mix of dathomir and common tongue as the disk flew up between them and then exploded with a force a blast. The blast meant as means to separate them as it exploded, she rolled back with the blast to her feet to get back to more favorable stance. Pushing off her left foot she would then charge forward for the Jedi. Her saber in right hand coming at him with a right to left swing aiming for the man's left hip.

"You are the child compared to me."

 

[Dominique Vexx]

The Chancellor's golden rings shifted slightly in Arris Windrun 's direction as Lysander's gaze angled her way.

Dominique's hands unfolded atop the table, palms up, "Of course." That was the sort of protection she'd described, after all. "These are not informal agreements, Envoy, and the Republic would be a fool to bait someone in only to incarcerate them. You may be quite influential in the Covenant, but the High Republic has to consider its relationships with other factions. Violating your trust would cause others to rightfully believed we'd do the same to them, and cripple any effort at dialogue."

"That said, you'll forgive me if I caution against trying to force the issue. Not that I'm accusing you of any plot, but as we are being forthright with one another, it's only reasonable for me to mention the High Republic would have its own records to dismiss any unfounded claims about your stay. For however long you choose to remain." Because the Sith would never try to claim the Republic had done precisely what Dominique had just described even when nothing of the sort had ever occurred. No, surely not.

"As to your conditions, I see nothing objectionable. Though during your stay, while you won't be detained, an escort will accompany you outside of your chambers. It is as much for your protection as our own. As you mentioned, not everyone will be as comfortable at first with the idea as you or I. We will negotiate matters of passage as they arise." She wasn't going to let him go wherever he wanted, however. There was being diplomatic and then being a blind fool, and Dominique didn't think herself a fool. Maybe, if this experiment went well they would see in time. "That said, you'll be free to speak to your superiors any time. As an Envoy that much is to be expected." Couldn't strike a deal if they didn't know whether those responsible for upholding it would honor it. Well, one could, but it would be a waste of time and effort.

Certain parties would likely need private consoling as to Lysander's presence, if this all actually happened. Dominique was prepared for it. It was important for them to see just how far this diplomatic approach could go with the Covenant and the Sith in general.

"On the other hand," the Chancellor added, "if this vessel were a neutral party -- not occupied by either government's forces and left to drift outside of the Core -- we could use it as a place to interact if you'd prefer to avoid the complexities of a stay on Naboo."

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"Ah," Cora murmured. "Your studies. Of course. I can only imagine their nature if you feel most comfortable performing them in territory governed by Sith warlords."

Then, the shielding dropped. Cora's lightsaber was already in hand, and she looked on in quiet, guarded amusement as Delvin retrieved the fallen Sith's weapon with a measure of disgust.

"Well," she gave a soft huff, "I don't believe fighting would do us any good, now."

She tilted her head to the side, toward the direction of Lysander and Dominique, though her eyes remained affixed to the Arkanian. "It appears as though one of your compatriots has convinced our Chancellor into a private meeting. How charming."

Cora twirled the saber once in her grip, an absent little gesture. "What did you have in mind? I do hope that I will not end up as one of your experiments."

Delvin jeth

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Dominique Vexx
​

Lysander gathered a deeper breath; the crown of his head lifted, spine drawing into a truer line, sternum rising a shade. “You’re right to protect the Republic’s public face. No doubt, others will be watching how you manage this, just as closely as they watch me.” Clarity, especially in a situation like this one, was most likely the closest thing either would get to safety. Naturally, there was also no desire to become the cautionary tale that future skeptics could summon.

“I don’t begrudge your prudence, Chancellor. That would align us on at least one point. If we move forward, there should be no room for reinterpretation. On my end, I'll be certain the Covenant holds itself to the same standard. Our records shall remain impeccable."

“An escort in these circumstances is perfectly sensible, so long as it stays faithful to what you’ve laid out. A shield for safety, if you will. I bear no doubt this will serve its purpose without inviting conflict." As a Sith, he liked to believe he’d walked into more hostile territories before. If anything, an escort would just make situations more predictable. A rare luxury for those who followed the Dark.

“Though I would suggest, if possible, that your Jedi be kept at a distance,” slipped out a little colder than he would’ve liked. For he’d already imagined himself boarding a ship full of them. History alone suggested they had a strong habit of inserting themselves in places that required this thing called nuance.

Another breath gathered and released.. best to clear that static before speaking again. “Some variables are better introduced.. gradually.” And with that, even his shoulders found a little more room to breathe.

Thoughtfully, he allowed consideration its rightful place, which was why his eyes dropped in reflection. This wasn't a proposal without merit. Neutral ground would indeed simplify some challenges. It would also remove structure, a topic already delved into. Or rather, even strip the framework they’d been trying to build.

“If these guarantees are to hold true value, they must be exercised where their authority holds sway.”

The scenario ran multiple ways in his mind, and somehow, always arrived at the same conclusion. Time to step into the nexu's den. "Environment matters as much as any agreement. Naboo, then.”

He assessed Cora first, then Delvin, and only then let his attention return to the figure shaping the terms of this accord. "Whenever you wish to proceed, Chancellor."

 

[Lorn Reingard]

Tags: Acier Moonbound​

The pressure held. For a moment. Lorn felt the resistance through the Force, stronger than before. The dark side surged through Acier, feeding him, reinforcing him. The grip on the cybernetic arm strained, but it didn't break him.

Not yet. Then the shift came. A second blade. Lorn's eyes flicked down for half a second as the purple light snapped to life between them. He released the hold in the Force immediately. No time to test it.

His blade snapped back toward his body just as the shorter saber drove in. The angle was precise, aimed for his hands. Lorn twisted his wrists, catching the strike just off the hilt. The impact jolted through his grip, forcing him back a step.

Now two. He adjusted his stance without thinking. Guard tighter. Movements smaller. Defensive. For the first time in the exchange, he gave ground.

The twin blades pressed in, blue and purple flashing in tight arcs. Lorn met them both, turning one aside, catching the other, redirecting instead of resisting. Each strike came fast, controlled, layered on top of the last.

He didn't try to outpace it. He couldn't. So he absorbed it. His breathing slowed. The chaos narrowed again. The noise of the fight faded into rhythm.

Then he moved. The shift was subtle at first. A simple return strike. Basic. Easy to read. The kind of motion Acier would expect. The kind he would dismiss.

Then Lorn pushed. The Force surged through his limbs, sharpening everything. His next strike came faster. Then the next. Each movement tighter. Cleaner. The weight behind them didn't drop. It increased.

He stepped forward, closing space, forcing Acier back a half step, then another. No flourish. No wasted motion. Just pressure. Again and again. Each strike built on the last. Relentless motion.

Lorn could feel it now. The shift in Acier's stance. The way the boy adjusted, compensated, kept control through it. Lorn pressed harder, driving him back another step, blades crashing in tight succession. He didn't aim to break through the guard. Not yet. He was building toward it. Waiting. Watching.

Then he saw it. A fraction of a second. A slight delay in the left side. The strain from earlier. Small, but there. Lorn stepped in hard, shifting his angle just off center. His blade came down in a heavy strike to draw the guard high.

And in the same motion, his focus snapped back to the cybernetic arm. His blade bounced back and aimed at his forearm, attempting to sever the limb completely.

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Dominique set a hand palm-down atop the table. "They are not my Jedi, Envoy. They offer their services in trade. You wouldn't begrudge someone like myself ensuring she has firm ground upon which to stand when confronted with dynamic forces like the Sith, would you?" A smile spread easily across her lips. "But as I seek to impart this Republic's resolve, I also hope others will take note the Jedi Order is not part of the High Republic hierarchy of command. I do not control or dictate their actions outside of very specific circumstances such as this one." And even then a Jedi would do what a Jedi thought best.

Oh, they could still claim the Republic was responsible for the Jedi's actions, but reasonable people would see that for the misdirection and excuse that it was. Yes, reasonable people knew the Jedi were merely a citizen like any other. Perhaps, if another faction had an extradition treaty with the High Republic they would be required to hand over purported criminals of such allies. As none of the Sith factions had opted to formalize relations, however, there was sadly nothing a Chancellor could do to someone that hadn't violated Republic law.

How could a Chancellor possibly foresee the Jedi bravely charging into Sith territory and causing a fuss? And how could such a Chancellor then take accusations that anything of the sort happened? Yes, a terrible shame the Sith weren't inclined to normalizing relations with the High Republic. A pitiable shame.

Whether the Sith saw this was a political shell game or not, it was more than enough plausible deniability and reassurance on the home front. And why not? The truth of the matter was simply that Dominique had no reason to constraint their efforts. This meeting was, perhaps, the first that showed even an inkling of potential there could be more than warfare with a Sith faction. Whether it led anywhere was up to the Covenant.

"That being said, we wouldn't want any altercations during your stay. Rest assured, you can screen whom you speak with." Within reason. And no guarantees he'd get to speak with everyone he wanted to. Another thing to take one step at a time. Not too cautious, but not blindly trusting either.

As for him choosing Naboo, the Chancellor nodded following Lysander's statement. "Of course. Though it would be beneficial to have a neutral zone, wouldn't it? In case the Triumvirate would like to meet with us? A place to discuss details regarding either side visiting the other in a State visit."

"As for our departure, it should just be a little while longer. Some lingering technical matters to see to." Dominique hoped the teams would isolate the nasty surprise soon. It wouldn't hurt if the Covenant would willingly vacate the ship beforehand as well.

Lysander von Ascania​

 

[Acier Moonbound]

Location: CSL Trinity

Equipment:
Apprentice Attire | Lightsaber | Shoto | Cybernetic Arm

Lorn held. He met the pressure, caught it and redirected it, exactly what Ace expected from him. So he adjusted. His grip shifted, primary blade in his left was orthodox and steady; the shoto in his right, held in reverse.​

​

The two blades moved together now, blue and violet working in tandem as he pressed the attack, layering strikes and angles without breaking rhythm. Relentless and controlled pressure, but it wasn't perfect. Ace felt it.​

​

There was a slight delay on his left, the lingering strain from Lorn's earlier interference with the arm. It didn't slow him enough to matter yet. But it would. And someone like Lorn would see it soon... if he hadn't already.​

​

Then the shift came. Lorn pushed back and the tempo flipped. Ace gave a step. Then another. He adjusted and let the pressure come while he measured it. Waiting. Reading.​

​

He saw the setup. The angle, the step off-center and the heavy strike coming down, meant to draw his guard high. Ace raised his left to meet it, and in the same instant, he saw it. The real strike.​

​

It was too late to "fix" it or adjust. So he didn't, he let it happen, Lorn's blade snapped down toward his forearm, and nothing. The blade struck the cybernetic limb and skidded, heat and sparks flaring briefly across the leather of his glove. There was a scorched line where the strike had failed to bite.​

​

For a moment, there was stillness. The beskar plating of his cybernetic arm prevented a humiliating disruption. Then Ace smiled: a small thing, brief, pearly. And completely wrong.​

​

He didn't smile often. Which made it worse.​

​

With a sharp backhand motion, he knocked Lorn's blade off-line, displacing it just enough to open the space between them. He stepped in, the shoto stayed in his right as his fist drove forward instead, clean, direct, and aimed square for Lorn's jaw.​

​

In the same breath, his primary blade came around low, cutting toward Lorn's thigh in a tight arc. Whether it struck true or not, it didn't matter.​

​

Ace broke away with a short hop back, resetting distance without turning his back, both blades angled low as he settled into a looser, more relaxed stance. The kind of posture that said everything without a word.​

​

He didn't want to kill him, but he wasn't stopping, and he wasn't coming back.​

​

Lorn Reingard​

 

[Lysander von Ascania]

Dominique Vexx​

“A rather intriguing distinction, Chancellor.” Atop the table, his wrist made a careful rotation. “You claim the Jedi aren't under your authority, but they operate in your space freely, answer your call, and intervene in situations that affect the Republic's trajectory." Influence didn't require direct control. Still, Lysander stopped, as the conversation wasn't far removed from earlier debates they'd navigated.

“Nonetheless, your explanation shifts the lens. My earlier impression was shaped by precedent rather than the way your Republic actually functions. I can see the distinction now.” Objectively, the remark was a reflex. Inheritance from the Outer Rim. Patterns were patterns though, and perhaps this was something worth revisiting later, when time permitted.

A single shoulder rose in a small shrug. "You won’t have trouble from me. I’m selective by nature, and I have no desire to stir up conflict. And your openness does not go unnoticed, Chancellor. Cooperation is far simpler when the situation is named for what it is.”

“The concept of neutral ground remains a possibility, but only if the circumstances align just so. They will need a voice they recognize. I can offer the consistency to make that possible.” One corner of his mouth lifted by a breath. "Their trust in me holds, even when little else does.”

Once the remaining shields were gone, Sith instincts would take over, and Lysander doubted they cared as much about diplomacy as he did in the moment. Pride, humiliation, and a half dozen other emotions already spread throughout the Trinity. Caging a storm was no easy feat, even with his word already given.

There were quicker, perhaps even more straightforward options available, depending on how you looked at it. But the solution he was currently contemplating wasn’t one he imagined she would support.

His head turned toward the Chandrila representative, eyes narrowing, before returning to the Chancellor.

“If he departs alongside you,” the words were spoken in a lower tone, “the Covenant won’t easily overlook the message that sends. A Core official stepping away with the Republic. That won’t be seen as anything less than.. defection.”

Another breath gathered through his chest, slower this time.

“Leave him here. I’ll make certain my people stand down, before the shields drop.” The smallest descent graced his chin. “If there’s a variable I have not accounted for, name it now. Provided it doesn’t complicate the outcome."

 

[Zaiya Ceti]

Outfit: x x x x x | Equipment: x x x x x x | Weapons: x x x | Companion: Domxite
Interacting with: Ghruna

Zaiya's mottled spots flickered grey confusion, then flushed into a brief, startled pink, before settling into a soft ripple of cyan wryness under her calm blue glow.

"…oh," she said gently. "That was a little mean."

The Lovalla tilted her head, studying Ghruna like she was trying to understand a particularly loud equation.

"I do not think I am a decoration," she added thoughtfully. "I am usually moving around too much for that."

After a second, the teenager's attention drifted back to the shield emitter again, fingers lightly tapping near the seam as if greeting it.

Tap. Tap-tap.

THen the stripes along her arm gave a bright flicker in bright orange curiosity, her mind quietly threading through the hum of the field.

Okay, how to work this...

"…also," Zaiya continued absently, "if I were trying to trick you, I feel like I would be doing something more elaborate. Possibly involving snacks."

That colorful head went back to peer at the frustrated Ghruna, and she gave her a comforting empathic half smile.

"You think not fighting makes someone a coward," she said, not accusing, just… placing the idea gently on the table between them. "But you are standing here," she gestured lightly, "very angry… and still choosing not to touch the shield again because you learned from the last time."

A small, almost pleased flicker of gold passed through her glow.

"That feels like choosing wisely," Zaiya added, still doing what she always did. Talk.

And talk and talk and talk!

Then, with a soft hum, the Padawan crouched down again and gently pressed her palm near the emitter, watching how the energy shimmer reacted.

"…if I turn this down by a fraction…" she murmured, mostly to herself. Just then the Force fluttered within her and the field gave a faint, wavering flicker.

Zaiya blinked.

"…oh."

Those mottled spots flashed a bright bioluminescent gold in surprised concern.

"…that did something."