Faction Trailblazing | Viceroyalty

[Bastille Rommer]

T R A I L B L A Z I N G

Dazzling rays of light from Naboo’s sun shone through the high-vaulted windows of the temporary Viceroyalty chamber that had been erected in Theed. Infrastructure had not been the first thing to be considered when the Confederacy’s government had relocated from Geonosis -- if it had been considered at all -- and the building was cramped and starkly less grand than the chambers on the original capital of the Confederacy.

Yet, Bastille Rommer knew that a place or organization’s appearance mattered half as much as its function.

Or, it’s power.

Ever since Ra’Katha had joined the Confederacy, it had been a minor planet; on the fringe of civilized space, on the fringe of political power, on the fringe of its economy. Bastille had worked all of his life to restore his homeworld to the level of prestige and glory it had enjoyed before the Gulag Plague had forced centuries of depression and isolation on it.

Ra’Katha had been the center of trade and commerce in Wild Space and even parts of the Outer Rim; merchants had come from as far as Hutt Space and the Western Reaches, bringing their stories, their wares, and most importantly their business. Yet, that had ended long ago. Ra’Katha was forgotten, not even on most spacer’s starcharts.

Bastille aimed to change that. He desired that the old glory is returned to Ra’Katha. The project with Roble Manufacturing was the beginning of that; consolidation of spacer traffic in the sector was starting ledge on which Ra’Katha could once more catapult into relevance. But, it was only a starting point, not the end goal.

Bastille had met with the Minister of Commerce only days prior in order to obtain her support for his proposed initiative; a network of new hyperlanes that crisscrossed the Confederacy, making travel much more efficient and controlled. Not only that but these new hyperlanes would extend beyond the Confederacy, bringing in trade, wealth, and resources.

And most importantly -- and not exactly divulged -- this new network of hyperlanes would converge on Ra’Katha. It would bolster the commerce of the Confederacy and Ra’Katha. A win-win situation. But, the support of a Minister was nice, but for how inefficient it was, the Confederacy still contained elements of democracy. The Viceroyalty would have to be persuaded to support this motion, or else it would not come to fruition.

Bastille had to now play the politician. He would have to win and woo these leaders over to his side; fortunately, charisma came naturally to the Kemotar of Ra’Katha. He had invited a select number of Viceroys, chosen for the significance of their planet and the significance of their support, to a suite he had purchased in the temporary chamber of the Viceroyalty. They would wine, dine, and when the time was right, Bastille would garner their support for his initiative.

And, if all went according to plan, soon Ra’Katha’s name would be known throughout the galaxy.
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[Hester Shedo]

Tag: Bastille Rommer



It didn’t matter.

The credo that kept Hester from clawing the eyes out of the sockets of whomever got in her way. She was held together by a myriad of things but a determination to make things happen was principle among them.

When bureaucrats made unnecessary work for her.

When CDF pen-pushers challenged her plans on planetary growth.

When Viceroys decided to host parties in person on another planet when a perfectly good conversation could be held via communique and the holonet.

She reaffirmed. It didn’t matter.

The journey to Naboo was a lengthy one. It would take near 18 standard hours and she had glossed over the details as to what time of day they would be arriving on Naboo. She hoped they had planned the arrival to allow her to sleep as she struggled to sleep on a vessel. She was a native Scarifan and tried not to leave the planet; the longest she had spent away was on this very planet.

Naboo had been a home for a short while in her adolescence. She had studied there and played court, learning about the functions of government. And now look at it! Capital of the entire Confederacy! She smiled to herself. Her school hood friend, and Queen of Naboo, would not believe her own luck.

They had both risen unsuspectingly to their ranks, though most had probably thought it inevitable.

It would be good to see Saraya Arenais again.

------------------------------------------------------------

A voice.

“We are approaching the dropoff, Excellency.”

Hester watched as the clouds began to rush past the windows, verdant green plains and cool waters spanning beneath her. She edged closer, trying to catch a glimpse of Theed.

She had done well to elevate Scarif. She had built its armies. She had built its resources and its clout and its little domination of the sector. She had ensured that the Shield Gate of Scarif was the one that traders and businessmen knocked loudest on, begging for entrance to this hub. New Lessu was almost finished and it would play home to millions of new and burgeoning Confederates. She had clout and the backing of businesses and allies.

She was not going to let that go. Whoever said it. Whoever wanted it.

It. Didn’t. Matter.

 

[Alistaire R. Markinswell III]

Stylish Suit
Voice

Sir Dr. Alistaire Raffety Edgar Roscoe Markinswell the Third, Viceroyal of Hypori, Professor of Wumbology at the Hyporian College of Bizarre and Amazing Studies for the Future of Existence' Sake, Knight of the Grandest Square, Executor of Raffety Alistaire Raffety Edgar Roscoe Markinswell the Second's Will, Purple Tie of the Order of Colourful Ties, Bowties and Ribbons.

That was the title that read on the letter sent through the ever-reliable never-reliable Janitorial Message Delivery Courier System (which Sir Dr. Alistaire Raffety Edgar Roscoe Markinswell the Third favoured quite heavily for sending his letters, rather than the much, much more effective digital holocommunication forms) Said letter contained the aforementioned party's Répondez S'il Vous Plaît, addressed directly to the Office of Viceroyal Albun Robin (Exact Spelling).

In layman's terms, the RSVP was extremely long-winded involving a lot of fancy words that nobody had time for and were a long time before date in a galaxy far, far away. This, however, says nothing to compliment the extreme effort it must have taken to handwrite the letter, for every letter was done in a slightly different shade of the rainbow, in an overly complex cursive that had to be left off every time one changed colour, making the process of writing a letter that should have taken, realistically, no more than ten minutes something close to ten hours.

Overall, it was alot of effort for alot of nothing, as it turned out most of the page had been scratched over with a black pen, and at the bottom in a small corner on the back of the letter was one sentence saying 'Will Come'.

And come he did.

On the exact date, down to the very second, a Solar Sailor carrying one Viceroy Alistaire Raffety Edgar Roscoe Markinswell III landed on Naboo, and disgorged the extremely eccentric man, who is rumoured to have danced halfway across a city because he confused his lefts and rights when landing.

Now, some might ask why any sane person would let such a man take on such an important role in the General Mish Mash of Things that people called the Galaxy, particularly that part of the General Mish Mash of Things that people referred to as the Confederacy. And that was, simply put, that he was the only neutral choice for the role.

But that was Somebody Else's Problem.

Within minutes of the party starting, Alistaire Raffety Edgar Roscoe Markinswell III had all but bust down the doors, doing the hokey pokey into the wine and dine, singing a horribly offtune version of Yellow Submarine by The Beatles.

That. Did. Matter.

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[Xazzex Xivar]

"No. We do not."

Xazzex Xivar, Empress and Viceroy of Falleen, decided to cut off the flamboyant little man, Alistaire R. Markinswell III, and his terrible song and dance routine with a simple, calm statement. Was it any wonder she hadn't bothered reaching out to such an odious creature? He might as well be the antithesis of what Falleen aspired to be -- composed, disciplined, and operating behind the scenes where you didn't need to worry about someone's feelings or the rule of law.

With that said, the green woman turned to stride away in search of the side of the table or chamber they would be occupying that Alistaire would not be on. Whatever grand ventures Falleen might not get from Hypori, Xazzex was content the returns would be made up by the lack of damage to her considerable patience. That said, if he behaved better in private then perhaps there was hope. Xazzex would wait on Alistaire to make that move and demonstrate he was more than he let on in public.

She circled around until she drew near to the man, Bastille Rommer , that had assembled this little meeting. "Viceroy Rommer, I expect you have something worthwhile to bring all of us together today?" While they hadn't established any of the more lucrative sources of income between their worlds, Xazzex had agreed with Rommer one more than one ocassion. Even collaborated on legislation together. Whatever he had in mind today was something she expected to be interested in one way or the other; and that it would undoubtedly favor Ra'Katha in the end.

Tag: Hester Shedo

 

[Saraya Arenais]

L O C A T I O N | Theed, Naboo
W E A R I N G | [x]
T A G S | Bastille Rommer - Hester Shedo - Xazzex Xivar - Alistaire R. Markinswell III

"Are you ready, Your Majesty?” The steely voice of her handmaiden quizzed as she righted the hem of her dress.​

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Mila’s face twisted in the reflective surface of the mirror, but it was briefly. So briefly that the handmaiden missed it entirely. “I think so.” The young Queen spun slowly on the tip of her heel, letting the ebony silk about her feet catch the breeze. “What do you think?”​

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Naboo was still garbed in black. Still mourning for a Queen that had never been, and as her replacement, Mila was much the same. This was all for show. For the people who looked at her and expected to see sorrow wrought into her naïve face. For the people who looked to her and expected to see worry. Fear, even, but nothing could have been further from the truth.​

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“You look stunning, ma’am.” Mila smiled. A beautiful, sparkling smile that illuminated her sun-kissed face. “Thank you, Violet. I suppose we had better tell them to prepare the shuttle.” The young girl nodded eagerly as Mila gathered her skirts and began to make for the door. This would be her first official… well, anything, on Naboo. Just a simple gathering of a few viceroys, but Mila was no fool. Though the invitation had eluded otherwise, the gathering would be more business than pleasure.​

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The journey to the Viceroy’s chamber was short. Short in comparison to many of those that were travelling to take part in the gathering today, which Mila had been incredibly grateful for. Space travel was not the young Queen’s forte. Temporary though the building was, Mila had to admit that for a rush job, it was a rather impressive feat of architecture. It stood out like a sore thumb against the softer, rounded structures of Naboo. Something she liked a little less, but it served its purpose well.​

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Perhaps in time, she could discuss offering to fund the next building to be used for Confederate business. At least that way they would be able to construct something that blended into the skyline.​

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The shuttle landed and Mila was escorted into the depths of the building, where a privately hired conference room had been set up for the day. She recognized many who were already gathered. Hester Shedo , for one. An old, close childhood friend of Mila’s. It was surprising to see her on Naboo, considering her general distaste for the planet, but it was good to see her nonetheless. The empress, and viceroy, of Falleen was present. Xazzex Xivar . Someone who Mila had only managed to admire from afar, but she still had an instantly recognizable face. A male whom Mila couldn’t recognize in the slightest made a fool of himself in the middle of the room, to which Mila quickly averted her gaze. Until finally…​

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“Viceroy Bastille.” Mila plastered a warm smile on her face as she greeted their host, Bastille Rommer . “I was most pleased to receive your invitation.”​

 

[Bastille Rommer]

T R A I L B L A Z I N G​

Tag: Hester Shedo | Xazzex Xivar | Saraya Arenais

As guests began to slowly file into the private suite, an easy conversation began to be struck up between the various officials that Bastille had invited. It was the usual political meet and greet, the same polite questions, polite laughs -- a language that everyone in the room spoke very well. Bastille recognized the newly-sworn-in Viceroy of Scarif and was making his way over to her when he was blocked by a rather diminutive man screeching an unknown tune to him.

"No, we don't," came a sharp, familiar voice from behind Bastille, and he turned to see the Viceroy of Falleen, Xazzex Xavier. He bowed in his thanks and straightened with the intent to give his greetings, but the Viceroy merely continued on with her sharp, business-like tone. "Viceroy Rommer, I expect you have something worthwhile to bring all of us together today?"

"Viceroy Xivar, as effervascent as ever. It's good to see you too," Bastille chuckled good-naturedly as his voice rolled over like honey in his Ra'Kathan accent. "And is it not worthwhile enough to enjoy a bottle of vintage between friends?" He looked into her cold eyes, the sun-brown of his meeting the jade-green of hers. "Alas, you know me too well. I do indeed have a purpose for inviting you all here, but that purpose will have to wait until later. For now, enjoy yourself at the party."

His attention was drawn away by the lilted tone of one who, when he turned, he recognized to be the new Queen of Naboo. It had been less than a month ago when he and his beautiful wife had first journeyed to Naboo for the coronation of this Queen's predecessor, but she had been murdered in cold blood during the honeymoon phase of her reign, or so it was rumored. They had not yet been invited to the coronation of this new Queen, and Bastille had taken a small slight from that. He let none of that offense show, however, as he drew the queen's lithe hand and pressed his lips softly on it. "Queen Karr," he said, full of charm, "It is my honor that you came, and that I am finally able to meet you. The Holos do not do the radiance of your visage justice, your Highness."

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[Hisashi]

L O C A T I O N | Theed, Naboo
T A G | Bastille Rommer , Hester Shedo , Saraya Arenais , Xazzex Xivar , Alistaire R. Markinswell III.

Light Casts Shadow.

To the people of Naboo, the monarch could easily be considered the Sun. For she who wore the crown, radiance was the foundation. Every edict was uttered with grace and was received with joy. Even now, in the midst of planet-wide mourning for the previous regime, the successor stole the hearts of the people. In essence, Saraya Arenais had become the Light of Naboo. And thus, as she moved, she cast a mighty shadow. It was within this darkness that Hisashi resided. For as benevolent as the people were, there would always be those seeking to exploit. Always be those seeking to harm.

The shinobi would not see His Queen end up like her predecessor.

Over the course of their months together, Hisashi had become a stalwart ally of the monarch. Even before her ascension, he had been tasked with keeping her alive. Ironically enough, this duty came as he plunged his blade into the gullet of her sire. It was the wish of a dying man, backed up by enough credits that any sellsword would be foolish to turn away. At first, the protection was given out of loyalty to coin. Yet, as time moved ever forward, the shinobi served out of devotion. Though he would never utter these words aloud, the young monarch had become a cherished fixture in his life. A source of happiness.

A friend. Perhaps even more.

In the here and now, a gathering was being held on Naboo. A political congregation with wine and dining - one which reeked of an agenda. With nobility and politicians, the games were all the same. Nothing in this world was free. Time was a valuable resource. No one threw a surprise gathering out of the kindness of their hearts. No, there was something at play here. Something at stake. And while Hisashi couldn't care less what, he did care as it involved his Queen. He did care because he would keep her alive. Upon arrival into the chambers, Hisashi kept his distance. He was close enough to the radiantly-dressed woman that he could shield her from all harm - yet far enough away that she could socialize unimpeded.

For now, he was content to watch.

Listen.

Wait.

 

[Hester Shedo]

She didn’t like Theed. She never had done. It was all sorts of cold that she couldn’t describe. She was born on a world with 26 hours a day of near perfect sunshine, warm waters that lapped at your feet for as long as you wished for it. Sand caught perfectly in your toes and no real seasons to speak of. A real paradise.

When the Confederacy had taken the planet, the people had rejoiced. They had won their liberty. The spoils of war? The chance to take an active part in the heart of an organisation for the betterment of the people, for the people, by the people. Hester had wanted to be part of that.

She was much older when she attended Theed for her various finishing schools and classes. A good ‘Scarifan woman could talk the talk and walk the walk. She learned to do both in Theed. She had made friend with an unlikely sort-Mila.

Hester had been older than Mila by some years. And yet the two had formed a sort of sisterly bond. Hester had looked out for the young Mila and made sure she wouldn’t end up in too much trouble.

They had ended up in lots of trouble.

Hester hadn’t always played by the rules on Naboo and it had made her life difficult. Men would woo her and talk about power to her. She liked that. She wanted power. But not through them. In spite of them.

When the time for Hester to leave had come, it had been a sad parting. Hester had promised to write and keep in touch. She hadn’t done. She had focussed on other things. She had married. She had been widowed. She had won the Viceroyship of her home world and now she stood in a well-constructed fabrication in the city she loathed staring at the young Queen of Naboo. She hadn’t changed.

Stop

She had changed. There was a look in her eye. This wasn’t the girl she had left behind in Theed. This was…an altogether different creature.

She had seen friends and allies at this party. The Empress of Falleen, who had made her attentions known after her Viceroyship was confirmed. She considered her a stalwart, if not quiet, friend. Women who courted power had to stay close.

The Viceroy of Ra’katha was present. She had to admit; he was stirringly handsome. Although their politics, so she had heard, didn’t quite align, she did hope he would be a friendly face. It was a handsome face, after all. She made motion to Mila but watched as Viceroy Rommer caught her path.

Hester smiled. Mila would love it.


TAGS: Saraya Arenais Xazzex Xivar Bastille Rommer

 

[Darth Metus]

A R R I V A L​

Wearing: [ x ]
Tag: Saraya Arenais , Xazzex Xivar , Bastille Rommer , Hester Shedo

Another Day. Another Agenda.

The realm of political "intrigue" was a landscape that the Vicelord had to learn on his own. His heritage, that of the Mandalorian warriors, actively scorned those who would present agendas behind pomp and circumstance. His beliefs, that of the Darkness, encouraged ambition - but also the will to make those ambitions a reality. With or without support. Sadly, these realities did not provide Darth Metus with an innate understanding of politics. In fact, navigating this particular world was one that ran contrary to every one of his insticts. Yet, it was a skill he mastered nonetheless.

To wear the mantle of Vicelord upon his shoulders meant a willingness to dive into the mire of gilded agendas. It meant having perception keen enough to see the motivations behind every show of benevolence. It meant a small degree of cynicism - for very few did good out of the kindness of their hearts. Oh, there were good days in the realm of politics. Shining moments where brotherhood and community outshined avarice. But those moments were few and far between. Conversely, events like the present were all too common.

And given sheer proximity, the Vicelord made an appearance.

It was not required of him, mind. This was no formal session of the Viceroyalty. There was no true need of Executive personnel within the gilded chamber. Moreover, the Viceroy of Ra'Katha had seen fit to have preliminary talks with the Minster of Commerce regarding his ambitions. Darth Metus was in the know of what Bastille Rommer dreamed to achieve. And for the moment, he kept his thoughts on the matter his own. Surviving the labyrinth of politics required this level of discretion. His entrance, however, was anything but.

There were no droids. Nor attendants. Nor a grand proclamation at the door. No. Only footsteps. The sound of shoes colliding with the polished floor. The echo would be loud - far louder than any footfalls had any right or reason to be. And yet, if one sought out the source, their eyes would witness nothing. There was no man or woman present advancing in such a way. And yet, the din persisted. One by one. Step by step.

Until a sable-skinned hand took that of the Queen.

He was as a spectre. In the milliseconds prior, there was only air. In the milliseconds following, there was the epitome of power. The Vicelord willed himself into the room, and thus he was there. Respect was given first to their most esteemed host - the monarch of Naboo. For, were it not for the crown's cooperation, the government would not have been able to procure the new capital's lands in such a short span of time. He raised her hand to bestow a kiss - a formal, courtly greeting. "Your highness." he began, standing to his full height. "It's so good to see you again."

He then released her hand and turned, beaming before those present. "It is so good to see all of you. New faces and old." And with that, the man set his sights upon one of the newer faces. The excessively pretty Viceroy of Scarif he had heard so much about. Beaming, he extended his hand in greeting.

"You must be Viceroy Shedo."​

 

[Custani Valcho]

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O B J E C T I V E​

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"Your excellency, I am ware you have matters to attend to but the Droid Union requests a meeting as soon as you get back" the repurposed Super Tactical Droid droned into Custani's ears. He responded simply by shaking his head. "Not today. Not tomorrow. Not this week, I have things to do, places to and I don't need them interrupting my schedule"​

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Sometimes maintaining an ecounopolis was hard and the burden of governing not one, but two weighed heavily on the shoulders of their Premier. But ever since the Confederacy's Capital Relocation, he spent more and more time away from his beloved home and more time in Theed, a city which he held to be rather boring. ​

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But perhaps that could change today. ​

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Yes, today of all days something not as boring as the routine assembly and meetings was being held and was hosted by none other than Viceroy Bastille Rommer , a man whom he has never met and never really understood. It didn't matter however, as the galaxy was quite smaller than many would admit and one thing was certain on the Premier's mind: We'll meet...eventually.​

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But there was someone he has yearned to meet before this ordeal would kick off completely...the newest addition to their numbers, the Viceroy of Scarif, Hester Shedo . And so the man maneuvered his way past many of his colleagues, smiling and nodding along as though he were happy to see him. The true feeling was absolutely nothing. No emotion. No happiness. No madness, or ill thought. Just nothing. ​

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"Vicelord, Viceroy Shedo" He extended his hand out to the young lady. "Charmed, and always Vicelord, it's good to see you"​

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Attn: Darth Metus Hester Shedo Bastille Rommer Xazzex Xivar Saraya Arenais ​

 

[Saraya Arenais]

L O C A T I O N | Theed, Naboo
W E A R I N G | [x]
T A G S | Bastille Rommer - Hester Shedo - Xazzex Xivar - Alistaire R. Markinswell III - Darth Metus - Custani Valcho

A natural blush stained her sun-kissed cheeks a subtle shade of rose. This was how it always began. Every politician Mila had met had travelled the same well-worn road. Harmless comments meant to flatter and compliment, exchanged for no reason other than to garner favour to trade in at a later date. It was rare that Mila found herself enjoying, no less wanting, that type of attention from other politicians, but with Bastille? He was easy enough on the eye that Mila found she didn’t mind in the slightest.​

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“I believe the honour is all mine, Viceroy Bastille. I’ve heard a great many things about Ra’Katha and I must admit I find myself impressed by it.” To Mila, she could find no further planet than Ra’Katha. When Geonosis had been the Confederate capital it had indeed been included in its sphere of influence. A great many people had heard of it, but now that the capital had changed Mila found herself wondering if that would change. Likely not, considering how much effort their current leader and viceroy had gone to throw what appeared, much to Mila’s surprise, to be a genuine party. ​

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Her painted lips parted as if she had something further to say, but a sudden change in atmosphere saw them close immediately. It was not a presence so heavy it drowned out the room, but it was a presence that demanded immediate attention. At first nothing more than the hollow sound of footsteps echoing through a corridor, growing louder and louder with each passing moment. Mila could not place her finger on it, but she had felt something akin to this before, so it came as no surprise when the outline of the Vicelord began to manifest in the conference room. ​

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With one hand swept away in a suddenly firm, but surprisingly tender grasp, Mila found herself face to face with Darth Metus. A man she had met only a handful of times before. Once when he had made the request for Naboo to become the Confederate capital, and once again when Naboo had hosted the Confederacy in celebration of the honour. “Vicelord Metus. A pleasure to have you on Naboo once more. We are truly uplifted by your presence.” She offered him a brief, but exceedingly friendly smile, then turned her attention back to the Viceroy of Ra’Katha.​

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Not that she didn’t desire to talk to the Vicelord, but most of the attention had swayed to Viceroy Hester, and who could blame them? She was an exceedingly beautiful woman, something Mila had always envied in their youth. Beyond that, she was now the newest addition to the viceroy chambers, and most would have been naturally curious, but not Mila. She knew Hester inside and out, and far more than anyone here could have claimed to know her. For now, Mila was content to be charmed by the foreign honied accent of Bastille Rommer.​

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“You must pass on my deepest sympathies to your Lady wife, Viceroy Bastille. I am given to understand that she and my predecessor had a close relationship.” The Queen of Naboo’s face fell but briefly, displaying a subtle expression of sorrow. “I would like to personally extend an invitation to you both to stay in the palace for a short while after my coronation. I feel it may offer your wife some closure, perhaps there are a few things belonging to Karia that she would like to keep as a reminder? Though I fear, due to the recent tragedy, it will not take place for some time.” ​

 

[Daegon Corvinus]

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WEARING: xxx
TAG: Bastille Rommer | Hester Shedo | Xazzex Xivar | Saraya Arenais | Hisashi | Alistaire R. Markinswell III | Seraphina Corvinus

A small session of of the Viceroyalty was taking place on Naboo, a planet much closer to Daegon's home of Thyferra than Geonosis had been. Travel was much nicer, though Daegon did not mind space travel as much as Seraphina seemed to. Even from the day he first moved her from Iego to Thyferra, the Diathim had found space travel to be exhausting. The Demon could only imagine how much moreso she found it to be now that she could no longer see. Still, closer was better.​

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Daegon waited on the ship. There was nothing which seemed to require their immediate presence. A party after all was meant to be arrived to late. Perhaps others did not feel that way, but the Demon always made his entrance at the exact moment it would being attention to himself and the woman which held his arm. He dressed formally, after all if other politicians were there, he wanted to ensure he was dressed at his best. As usual his bride would be stunning. In fact if all eyes fell to her, between her beauty and blindness, then all attention would be theirs for the brief moments of their entrance. This was as much part of politics as knowledge and skilled debate.​

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A look at the list of those who had arrived made Daegon smirk.​

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Bastille was always looking for an angle, more influence and power. Most important, however, the man was selfish and only cared about Ra'Katha. He could pretend his motives were in the best interest of the Confederacy, but Deagon saw right through the man. Bastille only did what benefited Ra'Katha, even at the expense of other sovereign planets. The Demon always took anything the man said through that lens. He always had an ulterior motive, and could not be trusted.​

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Xazzex, the Empress of Faleen, was brash and outspoken. Daegon liked the quality in her, but often she failed to see what was best for the Confederacy. She had moments where her words did strike a chord with Daegon, but like Bastille she seemed to be primarily focused on what would advance Faleen above other worlds. Naturally this may have been Daegon misreading the woman, but it was clear she was loyal to herself above all.​

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Hester was a new face. Daegon knew little about her, other than Scarif held resources that would benefit the terraforming projects still underway on Thyferra. Regardless of politics, there was business to conduct with the woman. Daegon made a note that he would need to arrange a meeting with her later to negotiate trade.​

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Finally there was Mila Karr, another new face, but one Daegon had recently met. He was still uncertain of what to think about her. Adron Malvern and Mila Karr had both assumed him to be nobility, and aristocrat, but he was not. A poor child, Daegon had earned every credit he held to his name. He believed in the power corporations held in regards to bolstering the economy of the Confederacy. Should they succeed in their plan, they would seemingly make corporate interests a thing of the past. Daeogon could not allow that.​

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Free markets and open trade would rule the day, and ultimately provide what was best for the Confederacy.​

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Light colored eyes fell to Seraphina. If she was ready they would leave. If she wished to remain, then they would skip the gathering altogether. There was nothing Basitlle could propose that Daegon could not find out about later, or voice an opinion on at a later time.​

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"Shall we be off then? I believe I owe you a dance."​

 

[Hester Shedo]

She had known power.

She had watched as her father had excessively and willfully beaten the young man that had courted his daughter without his prior consent. The son of wealthy banker had laid his hands upon Hester (on several occasions, she did not add) and that would not be tolerated.

She had known power.

She had seen the way the teachers and staff on Naboo had courted the young women in their charge to accept the advances of powerful men without query or struggle or consent. She hated them for it and the message they taught women in positions of power.

She had known power.

She had seen the rise of the Assembly and the delegates fighting for control on Scarif, local politicians willing to fight dirty to win, whatever it took. She had seen alliances broken, scandals announced, and quarrels broken down to public brawls.

She had known power.

She had seen her own husband’s rise to governance and his planned and inevitable ascendancy to the highest office on Scarif.

She had known power.

She had seen the masses and the people cheer her name when she was elevated to the Viceroyalty of Scarif. She had met the Empress and the Viceroys and the soldiers and leaders of the CIS. She had taken salutes and flown in starships as an exalted guest.

She stood in front of Vicelord Darth Metus , Leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

She had never known power.

She had never been so close to something that resembled it. He wasn’t even trying. He radiated and emanated and conducted it; nay, he created it.

“You must be Viceroy Shedo."

Some say there is a moment before entering hyperspace that if the circumstances are just so that the sound in the room disappears. Not goes quiet or dissipates but just ceases to exist. She felt that the Vicelord had just performed this mythical feat mere inches from her and she swore-blind that her heart had stopped for a second.

“Vicelord.”

She nodded gently. Some would scowl at her for this. They would say that Viceroys should not scrape and bow to the Executive of the CIS. She didn’t care. She would nod, all the same.

“I have been pleased to send you my reports on the construction of New Lessu. Scarif is proud to take a rightful place amongst the proudest of Confederates.”

She caught a flicker of a figure to her side, Viceroy Custani Valcho , another of the Viceroys she would hope to do business with that day.

She listened to him speak and smirked, her gaze returning coyly to the Sith Lord in front of her.





Darth Metus Bastille Rommer Custani Valcho Saraya Arenais

 

[Raven Thystle]

INVITATION

Location: Theed, Naboo
Appearance: XOXO
Tags: Darth Metus | Saraya Arenais | Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus | Xazzex Xivar | Hisashi | Alistaire R. Markinswell III | Custani Valcho | Bastille Rommer

Raven never went anywhere without looking her utmost best. Appearances was everything and the vampiress knew that. It was the key to making sure that no one would ever forget meeting you. Appearances was the key to being noticed and never forgotten. So, although she was one of the many to trickle in late, she at least looked her best. Yet for her, this was just another meeting that had been scheduled upon her long list of meetings. Except this one appeared to be a simple wine and dine, yet the woman knew all too well about how appearances could be deceiving. That was the importance of appearance at times. To mislead and guide an individual down a path and before they knew it, the target had fallen down a treacherous hole all because of an allure that had dazzled and clouded their common sense.

Appearances was everything. One would be a fool to forget that.

Her ship docked and as she disembarked, her dress clung to her body as she walked and the material hugged every single one of her curves. Her black hair, treated with red ends gently flowed in gentle waves about her shoulders. Black heels clicked and clacked as she made her way towards the suite that would host the gathering of Viceroyalty, while two other sets of footprints walked far quieter than her own. Booted footsteps that belonged to two Felacatian bodyguards. Nadia and Nala; of which, when Raven entered the room, they stayed outside. They knew that this was not for them but their Viceroy alone.

Upon entering, her chocolate gaze quietly took note of all that was present. Many seemed drawn towards Viceroy Rommer and the Queen of Naboo, of which she wasn’t at all surprised. The invitation had left out details as to why they have been invited here and it wasn’t the first time. It was a neat trick, to leave out such impertinent details to spark curiousity. If one didn’t know the reasoning, they essentially had to attend to find out or risk being a part of the masses when they found out and bite the bullet of not having the opportunity to say anything in regards to the issue.

One could also attribute the invitation as a Schrödinger's Cat. In this instance, it was more or less that there was a fifty percent chance that the meeting was important and the other fifty percent chance that it was unimportant. No one would know until they showed up.

So. Here she was making an appearance for all to see.

Slowly, she approached the group and bowed to the Queen, ”Your highness, good to see that you are in perfect health.” Raven said as a soft smile touched her lips then as she rose and noted the bodyguard, before she then turned to view the rest. The woman simply bowed her head to the Vicelord with soft words of greetings, before she simply took a couple of steps back so as not to be bolstered and crowded by her fellow Viceroyalty. For she didn’t feel the need to pester Viceroy Rommer about his intentions for gathering them all to this particular suite at this particular time. The woman knew all too well that her fellow Viceroys would do that particular job for her. So all that she had to do was sit back and simply watch as it played out before her ever watchful gaze, while her thoughts wandered.

It wasn’t so long ago that they were welcoming a Queen of Naboo and yet, here stood a different one. Two queens in the space of how many months? One was it? This current one hadn’t even had her coronation yet; the woman had even said so herself, just now as the vampiress listened, while her hands moved to laced behind her back with an air of quiet. Raven couldn’t help but wonder. Would this Queen still be standing after thirty days? Or was Naboo cursed to feel the constant shuffle of Queens and their demise?

 

[Xazzex Xivar]

Xazzex was not opposed to sharing a drink, but she knew that alone was not why he'd conjured so many Viceroys together. It never was with people of their stature. Even a humble banquet was always a prelude to a 'chance' meeting or some manner of demonstration -- often to show off a new alliance. The Fallen woman did not besmirch such things; she only asked that they be sufficient enough to warrant traveling from her home to engage with people in public. Little business was accomplished in such a public place. Often because the Falleen employed means best not heard by a Knight or by someone with a free tongue.

"As you wish, Viceroy Rommer." It seemed Bastille Rommer was instantly taken by the newest Queen of Naboo, which left little in the way of conversation between them. As an Empress herself, Xazzex found the situation vexing, but then you did not need to social with your friends as often as you did prospective associates. That was how she would take the circumstance. For now.

Her golden eyes shifted to regard the Queen's shadow, Hisashi . Surprisingly capable. Though unnecessary. His charge must be able to survive whatever a diplomat could throw at her, even if it was a chair. Perhaps that was just a lofty expectation of a Falleen Noble, however.

As the green woman slowly moved through the crowd, she offered a faint smile over toward Hester Shedo . It was pleasing to see so many tolerable and even pleasant members of the Viceroyalty present. They weren't all Alistaires.

The smile died when the sound of Darth Metus approach was heard. Xazzex turned to look in the man's direction -- or where he should have been anyway. A faint scowl turned the corners of her dark lips downward. Oh, yes, she knew about the elected Vicelord of the Confederacy. People in her position spent credits to learn everything they could about their greatest threats -- or their greatest allies. The man's penchant for displays of power were known, and obviously he wanted to make an impression. Perhaps send a subtle message. Not one she favored given a lack of solid understanding between them.

Of course her recent rebuke of the Office of the Vicelord making the Confederacy First announcement without consulting the Viceroys may not have helped. Any ally unable to take a well-earned punch, however, wasn't strong enough to be an ally.

That Metus took Mila's hand did grate. Surely he had all the time in the world to suck up to that woman seeing how he'd moved the entire government to her world. Not that Xazzex was envious of that. By all means, keep the Confederacy's government far away from Falleen. Nevertheless, was it necessary for him to dote on her at this event? Especially considering how recent she was to the role. Well, just a matter she would have to suffer while not letting the color of her skin get out of control. Just... let it pass.

Seeing how everyone seemed smitten with two of the newest members of the Viceroyalty, Xazzex continued on her way. She was not accustomed to 'tagging along.' That was when her eyes fell upon Daegon Corvinus . A man a Falleen might be able to respect, though like so many others not someone Xazzex had the please of one-on-one engagement. Perhaps now was a good as time as any to assess his interests.

"Viceroy Corvinus," the composed, green woman said as she drew near to catch Daegon Corvinus ear, "when it is convenient to you, perhaps we would have a word." Of course he could refuse, though Xazzex could hardly see why they couldn't at least talk. Her eyes slipped to that of Seraphina Corvinus . "I do not wish to interrupt." A mate must make events like these pass more smoothly. You could at least dance together, or find a corner away from the group and talk until enough time had passed you could exit gracefully.

Tag: Darth Metus | Saraya Arenais | Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus | Hisashi | Alistaire R. Markinswell III | Custani Valcho | Bastille Rommer | Raven Thystle

 

[Bastille Rommer]

T R A I L B L A Z I N G

Tag: Saraya Arenais | Darth Metus | Xazzex Xivar | Hester Shedo | Daegon Corvinus | Seraphina Corvinus | Custani Valcho | Raven Thystle | Custani Valcho

"Your kind words and offer warms my heart," Bastille murdered somberly as his mind went to Jamillah for the briefest of moments. "My wife and I would be delighted to attend your coronation, whenever it may be. And my condolences are extended to you and your people -- the death of Queen Leidias was a terrible tragedy."

As the two talked, several came by, mainly to pay their respects to the soon-to-be Queen; one of those being the venerated Vicelord himself, the one who was styled Darth Metus. So much power did not seem to be an effective counter to feminine charm, Bastille observed, as the Vicelord beelined to the newly-inaugurated Viceroy of Scarif, Hester Shedo. Bastille had meant to talk to her before the true discussion began -- Scarif and Ra'Katha were practically galactic neighbors, after all -- but political priorities called him elsewhere.

He returned a bow to the Viceroy of Felacat before turning once more to the Queen. "If you'll pardon me, Your Highness. I believe that it is time that these Viceroys know why I invited them here," he said, leaving the Queen of Naboo with a kiss on her hand before moving towards the head of the room.

Picking up an ornately carved glass that held a tiny amount of alcohol, he sipped it's contents patiently as he observed the room. He'd left the Queen with the Viceroy of Felacat, while the Viceroy of Mechis and the Vicelord had gathered around the poor Viceroy of Scarif. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the Viceroy from Thyferra and his Diathim wife off to one corner with Xazzex, who had moved over towards them. Various other politicians milled about, and Bastille took a calming breath before lightly ringing the rim of his glass, sending a clear note that pierced through the conversation of the party.

Bastille allowed the talk died down and the attention of those present to refocus on himself before starting, his voice now a rich and commanding tone that played nicely on his Ra'Kathan accent. "Fellow Vicelords, Nobility, and Vicelord Metus -- I am honored by those of you who accepted my invitation today. I know that I did not provide any sort of guidance to what specifically this meeting is about, but now is the time to know why I called you all here."

"It has come to my attention that, while many of the planets that we represent in the Confederacy have waxed in their wealth from the prosperity that the Southern Sytems brings, we are being outdone by economic competitors in the outside of the galaxy. The Starbird Trade Spine, a hyperlane that brings trade from the Core to the Outer Rim while bypassing the Confederacy completely is an affront of commerce to the many worlds within our great nation. We have more power, more riches, and more resources than any other nation on the galaxy, yet we choose to sit in stagnation while we are passed by in terms of technology, trade, and development."

"I have called you today because I wish to propose a project that would begin to rectify the mistakes made of past -- an internal development project that would revitalize our commerce, national defense, and more solidify the ties between the Southern Systems. I am proposing a network of fast, safe, and secure hyperlanes in order to bring the Confederacy together. These hyperlanes would allow travel to be conducted quickly and efficiently within the Confederacy, bolstering the response time of our Armed Forces and reducing the cost and time of travel between systems."

"This proposal has yet to be shared with the Viceroyalty at large, although both the Ministries of Commerce and Influence are aware of it. I have gathered you here to garner your support for a measure that would strengthen the entire Confederacy. For those who are interested, holomaps of this network are provided. But before this measure is put forward in front of the entire Confederacy, I wish to hear your concerns, your questions, and your input. I do not want this project to falter as so many have before it. I truly believe that this network of hyperlanes will once more bring the Confederacy to the forefront of the galaxy."
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[Vanir Eris]

Vanir slipped through the room quietly. He didn’t announce his presence nor seek to draw attention to himself. He was dressed in something a shade differently than his usual suit, but after all was this not a party? It was, in his opinion, far better than the stuffy council chambers.

Still, these people were strangers and as he leaned against the bar with a drink to listen to the proposal, he wondered idly if that will always stay so. Arbra was his isolated little experiment that was going well, true hyperlanes would increase tourism along with supplies. But what was the cost? Who would be bearing the brunt of the credits to develop this new infrastructure? “New lanes would breed plenty of use, but what of the cost? So far my little planet is self sufficient and I pay from my own coffers. I don’t have much citizenry, for a reason, but if you are proposing new taxes… I would have to protest. I give our government its rightly tithe, but I for the most part sustain things through my own ventures. And I doubt adding more tax, even for something like this, will be welcome to our people.”

He said ‘our people’ speaking of those who were the reason there was a Confederacy at all. He wondered just how many of these people assembled actually saw those who they serve, as people. Let alone their position as service to those same people. He was very picky about who he let live on his world, so far he had about two thousand souls now. He didn’t include the native Hoojib because, well, they were not really interested in a census and kept to themselves. Making their number hard to tally, but that was just as well.

Most of his revenue came from tourists and wisely making investments. About sixty five percent of his income was turned right back into his planet. Most of that didn’t even go to the people as income immediately. He did a lot of importing in because he didn’t want land munching industries scarring the land, choking the air and tainting everything. He also preferred to have his own people do things, so he made purchases of businesses from outside as needed to facilitate more reliable deliveries. Otherwise he lubricated the wheels by adding in a little extra to get the job done.

Hyperlanes would benefit him greatly, but always he wanted to know the cost to the people, then to himself. He took his duty seriously. Seriously enough in fact that he knew the names and faces of everyone who lived on his world. He listened to them. He made changes for them and oftentimes, saw to those changes personally. Can any of these people say the same? His crystal blue eyes watched Bastille closely. A predator watching for any sign of weakness or falsehood. This man who provided their food, their drink and the lavish surroundings, just what kind of man was he?

A smile could hide a thousand fangs after all. He should know, he'd hidden his fangs often enough by his own smile.

Bastille Rommer

 

[Darth Metus]

O B S E R V E​

Tag: @@Vanir Eris, Bastille Rommer , Saraya Arenais , Xazzex Xivar , Hester Shedo , Daegon Corvinus , Seraphina Corvinus , Custani Valcho , Raven Thystle

"I have been pleased to send you my reports.."

Scarif had long worked to distance itself from the Imperial roots that had defined it. Centuries past, it had been affiliated with an ancient, Galactic Empire. And, when the modern Confederacy was in its infancy, it had been also been a seat of Imperial power. Upon joining the southern community, the world did its absolute best to show that it was a true believer in the Confederate vision. These efforts had no better personification than in Hester Shedo . Though the Vicelord had not met the woman in person, the thorough reports provided to his office were the thing of dreams. A city - a beating heart of commerce and opportunity - was being erected and was named in honor of Ryloth itself.

New Lessu was poised to become the next Theed or Golbah City if the reports were to be believed.

"And we are honored to have you standing with us." he repiled, beaming. His dominant hand slid into his pants' pocket as he spoke. "Once New Lessu is fully constructed, I will make it a point to visit - though I hope to see Scarif well before the occassion." He parted his lips to speak once more, yet the man of the hour had called their attention. He turned, facing the direction of Bastille Rommer . The proposal made was certainly a lofty goal, one that bore careful consideration. For now, the Vicelord did not offer any thoughts nor words of support - for his subordinates in the Ministries of Commerce and Influence had not yet reported their findings.

For now, he would hold his peace and observe the Viceroyalty's response.​