Faction Ultimatum | Republic Senate & Great Houses

[Aurelian Veruna]

Location: Senate Hall, Theed Royal Palace, Naboo
In Reaction to: War on the Republic: Ultimatum

The holonet shattered the morning like a thrown glass. White corridors and soft-clad aides froze mid-step as the palace's private feeds snapped to the same injured face. Conversations died. The Senate's steady hum, a mix of debates and political maneuverings, stalled into a single, raw intake of breath.

Aurelian Veruna's smile vanished the instant the feed locked on Kalantha. One moment he was idly adjusting the cuff of his jacket, the next the High Chancellor was a ruin of bruises and blood, speaking on a loop for the whole Republic to witness. The sight ignited him like oil catching flame, burning away any helpless fury. His eyes hardened into the sort of dangerous, youthful focus that could charm an ally or terrify an opponent.

He barked for Tona with a voice grown suddenly too small for the storm inside him. "Tona... now. Stir the others. Senate Hall. Every chair you can fill." The request was a command wrapped in velvet; she obeyed, already moving before he turned.

As he strode, the palace around him blurred into motion: servants bolting between offices, datapads liberated from hands, emissaries gaping. Aurelian's thoughts spooled faster than his feet. He knew the Black Sun would demand concessions, and the ransom would be grotesque. He also knew a line in her voice would leave him on that list: "Interim Chancellor Aurelian Veruna... alive."

He tasted irony, bitter and metallic. Would some gilded Senator offer Sepan 8 as a bargaining chip, tucking him into the price like a trinket? Would an ambitious rival turn his name into currency to secure trade lines or political advantage? The idea made his blood run cold and hot at once.

He reached his pod, and the Senate Hall beyond unfurled like a sleeping beast. Every screen in the hall still looped Kalantha's fractured statement. He thrust his palm forward; demanding the feeds die.

Silence pooled, immediate and wide. Aurelian stepped forward into it, letting the danger in his smile hang. He then filled the room with a voice that was all inheritance and promise. "We will not negotiate with terrorists," he declared, each word struck like metal. "But we will not be cowed. This cannot stand; not for the Republic, not for Inara, and not for any of us who would make a market of a person's life. We make a play today."

​

 

[Dominique Vexx]

They lost Dominique the moment the first demand was made. Sepan 8. One step closer to Denon. Again. Humbler this time. Perhaps they'd learned that turning up the heat too quickly by targeting Wielu earned a rapid response, and by doing so slower this time... well, it was only one system and for a good cause. Perhaps it would go unnoticed. Well, it was noticed. And it incensed Dominique to think the Black Sun would try yet again.

As for the credits, she didn't care. It was an obvious effort to stymie their attempt to build up defenses, but hardly worth getting upset over. A mere strategic decision.

Their last demand, however, was an absurd as the first. They wanted Veruna now. Why would they want to trade one Chancellor for another? Dominique had her thoughts on the matter. Ones she wouldn't share with even her aides at this point. So many often forgot or overlooked the fact those representing Denon knew how the game was played. Dominique did it with a silken steel grip unlike others, but that hadn't changed the nature of the game, or her understanding of the rules.

"Reschedule the day's meetings," Dominique announced as she rose from her desk, "I doubt anyone that planned to attend the economic meetings will find themselves free enough to complain now. And send word to our fleet, they're to be on standby alert. This could be a smokescreen to distract us while they launch an invasion." Fifty-fifty. Good enough odds to have them sit up a little straighter (if that were possible) out there in the void.

With that, the Denonite Director strode from the chamber and to where the Senate was evidently commanded to assemble. No small council meeting beforehand? The announcement might be felt too public. Or perhaps that last demand too personal. Whatever the case, all that was left was to see what followed.

Dominique remain standing as people assembled. She didn't feel like getting comfortable, or being unprepared should something transpire. This slow moving shadow war had begun to draw on her nerves. A sentiment Aurelian might share if by 'play' he meant a proper response to this effort to extort them.

For the time, however, she was silent. Dominique wanted a read on those that would attend. How eager would they be to respond? In what capacity? Or would they all stand there silent uninterested in taking any responsibility? How many of them would object and council drawing it out? Because it was a war in the shadows, and she didn't for a moment believe it hadn't already crossed the threshold.

Aurelian Veruna | Open​

 

[Xazzex Xivar]

​

Naboo. Xazzex hated being on Naboo. Not because of its idyllic setting. Falleen had its own naturalist environs. There'd been trouble with pollution from industry at one point, but they had it under control now. Not as well as the Great Naboo, but well enough not to feel envious. Naboo wasn't the only world with trees and waterfalls. It was the people. The way they walked. How they talked. A cavalier attitude believing the galaxy was theirs because they happened to be Human.

That was the problem. Too many Humans.

Not that you could say that and not have half the galaxy immediately turn against you. Not openly. Among the right crowd, however; those that understood the threat their kind posed due to sheer numbers alone. Obviously, it wasn't talent that kept them at the fore.

And to be conjured so hastily... Xazzex Xivar strode through the hallway in no particular hurry accompanied by the cloaked droid that delicious woman from Nar Shaddaa had gifted her. Let the rest of them scurry for their seats. No planets were on fire. Why this broadcast that no doubt was the cause of the commotion hadn't even set a deadline for the exchange. She wasn't going to hurry because they demanded it without cause.

In due time, of course, the Senator [and Empress] of Falleen took her seat and lifted a goblet of wine from the side table.

Likewise, Aurelian took the floor just as soon as the chamber had as many seats as they could fill. Xazzex actually didn't mind Aurelian. Still Human, but his attitude was at least enjoyable. Arrogant Haughty. Commanding. If only he were Falleen. His words were bold and decisive, which were pleasing to the ear; but he stopped short of describing the play. A pause meant to solicit response? Give everyone time to process?

Yes, well, not everyone in the chamber was as sharp as they should be to occupy their seat. More was the pity for their worlds, but Xazzex didn't care if they fell behind from sheer incompetence. As for herself, she would wait to hear what the man had in mind before she objected. After all, there was that standing arrangement with interested third parties.

Aurelian Veruna | Dominique Vexx | Open​

 

[Aerys Mourn]

HOPE SHATTERED

Tag: Aurelian Veruna | Dominique Vexx | Xazzex Xivar​

Silence followed Aurelian’s declaration, sharp and absolute, the kind that comes when conviction fills every corner of a room. From the back of the Senate chamber, Aerys rose. The senator from Vandor carried himself with the quiet gravitas of one who had walked both battlefields and council floors, his hands clasped behind his back as his gaze swept the room. The glow of looping holofeeds still washed over the faces of his peers, Chancellor Kalantha’s bruised visage flickering like a wound the galaxy could not look away from.

Aerys did not speak at once. He listened to the faint hum of unease in the air, to the murmuring current of the Force that wove through the chamber like smoke. When he finally stepped forward, his voice did not cut, but carried, a calm current meant to steady the tide.

“We must be clear,” he began, his tone deliberate, unhurried. “Anger will make us loud, but not wise. If we meet terror only with vengeance, we surrender to its design.” The words were not a rebuke, but a reminder. He knew the Chancellor’s fire was needed; the Republic would not survive without those willing to meet darkness head-on, but even fire needed the breath of restraint to shape it into something enduring.

He extended one hand slightly, a subtle gesture that only the Force-sensitive in the room might have felt. Through it, Aerys sent a ripple of calm, a faint warmth that rolled outward like sunlight breaking through stormclouds. Somewhere, if the Force willed it, perhaps even Kalantha might feel it: a whisper of steadiness, a reminder that the Senate still stood with her, not as bartering politicians, but as sentinels of the Republic’s soul.

“The Black Sun will expect our rage,” Aerys continued. “They will count on it. Let them be wrong. Let our play be one of precision, not impulse.” His gaze drifted across the tiers of the Senate floor. “We must pursue those who trade in lives as if they were cargo, investigate every senator, every merchant, every syndicate contact who saw this as opportunity. Justice demands we move swiftly, but it also demands we move rightly.”

A hush followed. The tension in the chamber remained charged as he continued to speak, “What I ask,” he said at last, “is unity of purpose, not of emotion. Let courage guide our hearts, and prudence our hands. We must not let outrage blind us to the duty that defines us. The Republic will stand tallest not when it strikes, but when it refuses to fall.”

He inclined his head toward Aurelian then, a gesture of respect, not submission. “The Interim Chancellor’s courage gives us momentum, and we must use that to return her home.” as Aerys returned to his seat, the Force lingered around him like the quiet after a storm, not stillness, but balance.

They Would Not Falter.​

 

[Eharl Sarn]

​

Senate Hall
Theed City | Naboo
Items: x
Aurelian Veruna Dominique Vexx Xazzex Xivar Aerys Mourn

​

The chamber had fallen into a strained quiet, broken only by the faint hum of holo-displays still flickering Kalantha's wounded image across the walls. It was a sight that pierced through even the most hardened hearts, but for Senator Eharl Sarn of Enarc, it did something far rarer. It broke his composure.

The elderly Ithorian's throat rumbled low and deep, his twin mouths drawing a tremulous breath. When he finally spoke, the usual gentle cadence of his voice carried a weight of fury few had ever heard from him.

"This is no longer a matter of deliberation," he began, his voice resonating through the chamber like a slow, rolling tide. "That transmission is proof of life, and proof of our failure to act sooner. We must not delay any longer."

His dark eyes glistened, not with sentiment, but conviction.

"High Chancellor Kalantha was formerly our Queen, the heart of this Republic when it was the Royal Republic. She has given everything in service to its people, and now she is left to the wild dogs of Black Sun?" His usually calm tone cracked with indignation. "Unacceptable."

He turned toward the senators' tiered seats, his broad form rising as he gestured with one heavy hand.

"I call for direct action. I call upon the Bothan Spy Network, upon Republic Intelligence, upon every agent and ally within our reach, to find her and bring her home. Not tomorrow. Not next session. Now."

A pause, then softer, but no less resolute: "This has gone on far too long. We owe her more than words. We owe her our action."

​

 

[Sibylla Abrantes]

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T H E E D ** P A L A C E
Items: x x x x x

The throne room was silent save for the low hum of the holo-feed dying into static. The image of Kalantha's bruised and bloody visage still burned behind Sibylla's eyes as any brand.

The weight of her headdress pressed against her skull, the jeweled lattice biting faintly into her scalp. It was grounding pain, as pain was often easier to control than rage. Her posture remained immaculate -- the perfect picture of Nabooan grace and composure but the faint tremor at her lower lip where the maroon Scar of Remembrance stained it betrayed the storm beneath.

Sibylla's heart thundered as anger rolled through her veins in cold, methodical waves.

How dare they.

"Your Majesty," Corde's voice broke the suffocating quiet with that deadly measured calm only a Daughter of the Scar could convey.

"Interim High Chancellor Veruna has called an emergency Senate meeting to rally a decision."

Sibylla's jaw tightened. Of course he had. Aurelian would not let this stand. Neither would she.

"Inform the Royal Guard to stand ready," she said at last with a low and deadly calm. "We depart for the Senate Hall immediately."

Those hazel eyes fixed on the flickering holoprojector as her jaw tightened. As Interim Sovereign, she now had a seat in the Republic Senate. And her voice would be heard if it needed the push towards action.

"No... we do not negotiate with terrorists," she murmured. "But we will make Black Sun regret they ever touched our former Queen."