Senator of Vaklin, 1st Siskeeni Advisor
Planet: Vaklin
City: Vaklin Zenith
Once the planet stood as a beacon of Jedi friendship. A type of symbiosis. But then the Jedi purge, led by Darth Vader, destroyed the goodwill of the people and sunk the planet into criminal anarchy and chaos for centuries. Species that once lived in peace turned on one another in hatred bred from fear. Fear planted and nurtured to fruition by evil.
And the Darkside flourished.
Zabrak warred with Elomin. Togruta and human turned on one another. Twileks delved deep underground into fortresses. The Myneyrshi barricaded the cities of the plains. The Ryn found sanctuary in the forests as they roved in caravans. And the Feeorin proclaimed a holy war against all other species.
The planetary status quo remained unchanged for a few more centuries until a hundred years ago an Exalted of the Feeorin began the crusade anew.
The various leaders of many of the species factions look for peace. With their planetary government fractured, the ability to find assistance from the Galactic Alliance was problematic. Who has the best claim? And who would communicate with the massive political animal that was the GA? The Council leaders decided if they were going to reclaim their planet and find an attainable peace then they would have to be the ones responsible. But they lacked a central voice unswayed by biased agendas. And so they searched for a delegate from the outside world. One who could broker peace and lead the world to an authentic and legitimate season of unification.
A search went out, long and arduous, until finally they found a candidate named Derek Dib. Once a Viceroy of Siskeen, this man forged peace amoung the disparate species and created a booming society. He led them both from a political arena and as a warrior in the battlegrounds. And when the Confederacy fell it was Derek Dib that held the system together, forming the United Siskeen Coalition. Rather than clutch for power, power he was freely offered as a monarch, he instead built a democracy where he served as President.
With the summons sent, the Council waited to hear a response. Derek Dib was coming. With the new position accepted, President Dib began to prepare to abdicate his position and give complete and total control back to all Siskeeni.
“I will miss you my old friend. But I know the United Siskeen Coalition is in strong and wise hands.”
Derek extended his arm, right hand extended, but the cathar would have none of it. She stepped into his chest and wrapped her arms around his chest, her thin and feline hands tightened at the small of his back. He sighed and pulled her close, the musky scent of her fur smelled of sandstone. The two were an interesting sight.
Standing on the balcony of what was once the royal palace, the structure extended over the cliff to look out over the ocean. The ancient kings once lived there but Derek turned it into the seat of the presidency. Now, the new president made it the official home of First Siskeeni Advisor to the United Siskeen Coalition. A lifelong title and position. Newly created for the departing Dib.
“This will always be home to you, Derek. You are a Siskeeni, now and always.”
Gently he kissed the tawny crown of her head and looked down into golden eyes. He remembered her first as an aid. Then an advisor. Swiftly he promoted her to his cabinet where she earned every promotion and accolade heaped upon her. Now she stood in a pale blue silken tunic, every bit a regal politician while retaining the strength of her race. She was the future and he was a relic of the past. One that must go in order to let Siskeen grow beyond him.
“I know. Now go. I hate goodbyes. Tell your father and mother farewell. Jannis knows I don’t like big ordeals. Stay proud, stay fierce, stay loyal, stay kind.”
The words of her clan. She released him and departed, the hem of the gown floated just above the marble balcony giving aid to the illusion of grace. For the new Siskeeni President, no extra grace was required. He turned back to the balcony railing and placed his hands on the decorative stone wall to look out on the ocean one last time.
The cool breeze ruffled his black hair. A coming wind with the promise of rain. Heavy thunderclouds rolled from the deeps with blue flashes of lightning highlighting the skies. The planet and her people had weathered such storms. And they would do so again. Even with him gone. The first droplet of rain splashed on the back of his hand and he turned to leave the balcony. He closed the double glass doors behind him and watched the external lights extinguish.
In the glass was his reflection. Dark stubble adorned his cheeks and chin. Skin pale no matter how long he was in the sun. A black suit with a black shirt, top button undone and tie missing now that he longer needed to keep up the appearance of President. He was above average height for a human standing several inches above six feet. With wide shoulders and a narrow waist, he knew he was thinner than he should be. The weight of responsibility. But the corded musculature beneath the clothing was still impressive.
He knew he cut an imposing picture of aristocracy, yet he was not only a politician. He was a fighter. Even if it wasn’t readily apparent. But most people didn’t see the man first. What they saw were the eyes. Glowing, crimson eyes. Eyes often associated with the Sith , though he held no affinity to their ways. Even under the Vicelord of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, Derek staunchly stood on his beliefs in morality, justice, and mercy. It led to a few wonderfully tense senate meetings. Not to mention an underlying tenseness between the former viceroy and vicelord.
But those days were long gone. He walked through the sparse sitting room where a leather sectional sat facing a grandiose fireplace as large as the balcony door frame. Bookshelves lined the walls with only a small bar carving out real estate near a pool table. It was his favorite place in the mansion. And he would miss it. He walked through the empty home headed for the landing pad to the side of the house. From one of the halls a magnadroid, complete with electrostaff, fell into step behind him.
Slick black boots were soaked from the wet grass as Derek turned into the wind and rain and climbed the boarding ramp of the shuttle. He took a seat in the cabin and felt the shuttle lift off on repulsors as a large slab of meat known as Al entered and sat across from him. A data pad was tossed to Derek’s waiting hands as Al leaned back and closed his eyes.
Most would assume Al was just a massive bodyguard. They would be wrong. The albino with black eyes was more than what meets the eye. Alabaster was his name and, technically, he wasn’t a he. He was a YVH- droid with synthetic skin. And he was a recipient of multiple upgrades including being a fully autonomous artificial intelligent being. Who just so happened to want to be Derek’s personal guard.
As he perused the information on the data pad he received alarming news from the council. There had been multiple sightings of sith on the planet at the scenes of horrifying massacres. As his first official action as Vaklin’s official delegate to the GA, he requested assistance from the Jedi Order. With a proposal to meet at hangar 13 at Vaklin Zenith. He leaned back and closed his eyes seeking a meditated solace as the ship began to trek to the Vaklin System.
Katarine Ryiah
City: Vaklin Zenith
Once the planet stood as a beacon of Jedi friendship. A type of symbiosis. But then the Jedi purge, led by Darth Vader, destroyed the goodwill of the people and sunk the planet into criminal anarchy and chaos for centuries. Species that once lived in peace turned on one another in hatred bred from fear. Fear planted and nurtured to fruition by evil.
And the Darkside flourished.
Zabrak warred with Elomin. Togruta and human turned on one another. Twileks delved deep underground into fortresses. The Myneyrshi barricaded the cities of the plains. The Ryn found sanctuary in the forests as they roved in caravans. And the Feeorin proclaimed a holy war against all other species.
The planetary status quo remained unchanged for a few more centuries until a hundred years ago an Exalted of the Feeorin began the crusade anew.
The various leaders of many of the species factions look for peace. With their planetary government fractured, the ability to find assistance from the Galactic Alliance was problematic. Who has the best claim? And who would communicate with the massive political animal that was the GA? The Council leaders decided if they were going to reclaim their planet and find an attainable peace then they would have to be the ones responsible. But they lacked a central voice unswayed by biased agendas. And so they searched for a delegate from the outside world. One who could broker peace and lead the world to an authentic and legitimate season of unification.
A search went out, long and arduous, until finally they found a candidate named Derek Dib. Once a Viceroy of Siskeen, this man forged peace amoung the disparate species and created a booming society. He led them both from a political arena and as a warrior in the battlegrounds. And when the Confederacy fell it was Derek Dib that held the system together, forming the United Siskeen Coalition. Rather than clutch for power, power he was freely offered as a monarch, he instead built a democracy where he served as President.
With the summons sent, the Council waited to hear a response. Derek Dib was coming. With the new position accepted, President Dib began to prepare to abdicate his position and give complete and total control back to all Siskeeni.
“I will miss you my old friend. But I know the United Siskeen Coalition is in strong and wise hands.”
Derek extended his arm, right hand extended, but the cathar would have none of it. She stepped into his chest and wrapped her arms around his chest, her thin and feline hands tightened at the small of his back. He sighed and pulled her close, the musky scent of her fur smelled of sandstone. The two were an interesting sight.
Standing on the balcony of what was once the royal palace, the structure extended over the cliff to look out over the ocean. The ancient kings once lived there but Derek turned it into the seat of the presidency. Now, the new president made it the official home of First Siskeeni Advisor to the United Siskeen Coalition. A lifelong title and position. Newly created for the departing Dib.
“This will always be home to you, Derek. You are a Siskeeni, now and always.”
Gently he kissed the tawny crown of her head and looked down into golden eyes. He remembered her first as an aid. Then an advisor. Swiftly he promoted her to his cabinet where she earned every promotion and accolade heaped upon her. Now she stood in a pale blue silken tunic, every bit a regal politician while retaining the strength of her race. She was the future and he was a relic of the past. One that must go in order to let Siskeen grow beyond him.
“I know. Now go. I hate goodbyes. Tell your father and mother farewell. Jannis knows I don’t like big ordeals. Stay proud, stay fierce, stay loyal, stay kind.”
The words of her clan. She released him and departed, the hem of the gown floated just above the marble balcony giving aid to the illusion of grace. For the new Siskeeni President, no extra grace was required. He turned back to the balcony railing and placed his hands on the decorative stone wall to look out on the ocean one last time.
The cool breeze ruffled his black hair. A coming wind with the promise of rain. Heavy thunderclouds rolled from the deeps with blue flashes of lightning highlighting the skies. The planet and her people had weathered such storms. And they would do so again. Even with him gone. The first droplet of rain splashed on the back of his hand and he turned to leave the balcony. He closed the double glass doors behind him and watched the external lights extinguish.
In the glass was his reflection. Dark stubble adorned his cheeks and chin. Skin pale no matter how long he was in the sun. A black suit with a black shirt, top button undone and tie missing now that he longer needed to keep up the appearance of President. He was above average height for a human standing several inches above six feet. With wide shoulders and a narrow waist, he knew he was thinner than he should be. The weight of responsibility. But the corded musculature beneath the clothing was still impressive.
He knew he cut an imposing picture of aristocracy, yet he was not only a politician. He was a fighter. Even if it wasn’t readily apparent. But most people didn’t see the man first. What they saw were the eyes. Glowing, crimson eyes. Eyes often associated with the Sith , though he held no affinity to their ways. Even under the Vicelord of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, Derek staunchly stood on his beliefs in morality, justice, and mercy. It led to a few wonderfully tense senate meetings. Not to mention an underlying tenseness between the former viceroy and vicelord.
But those days were long gone. He walked through the sparse sitting room where a leather sectional sat facing a grandiose fireplace as large as the balcony door frame. Bookshelves lined the walls with only a small bar carving out real estate near a pool table. It was his favorite place in the mansion. And he would miss it. He walked through the empty home headed for the landing pad to the side of the house. From one of the halls a magnadroid, complete with electrostaff, fell into step behind him.
Slick black boots were soaked from the wet grass as Derek turned into the wind and rain and climbed the boarding ramp of the shuttle. He took a seat in the cabin and felt the shuttle lift off on repulsors as a large slab of meat known as Al entered and sat across from him. A data pad was tossed to Derek’s waiting hands as Al leaned back and closed his eyes.
Most would assume Al was just a massive bodyguard. They would be wrong. The albino with black eyes was more than what meets the eye. Alabaster was his name and, technically, he wasn’t a he. He was a YVH- droid with synthetic skin. And he was a recipient of multiple upgrades including being a fully autonomous artificial intelligent being. Who just so happened to want to be Derek’s personal guard.
As he perused the information on the data pad he received alarming news from the council. There had been multiple sightings of sith on the planet at the scenes of horrifying massacres. As his first official action as Vaklin’s official delegate to the GA, he requested assistance from the Jedi Order. With a proposal to meet at hangar 13 at Vaklin Zenith. He leaned back and closed his eyes seeking a meditated solace as the ship began to trek to the Vaklin System.
Katarine Ryiah
