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Will You Be My Neighbor?


The reports of the commencement of a new nation had spurned a delightful response from the Confederacy of Independent Systems. Routine patrols spoke of a new congregation of worlds, known as the Moross Crusade, and as such the leadership of the Confederacy saw fit to extend to their newly-formed neighbors the olive branch of peace, collaboration, and mutual prosperity. To this end, the Grand Marshal of the Confederacy had banded together a small delegation of ships, consisting of a Resolute-class Star Destroyer, and the local patrol of three Reaper-class Corvettes, in order to meet with the Crusade on neutral ground. The location for this momentous occassion was known as "Base Dadonna", a simple, ancient structure dating back to the era of civil war that had consumed the Galaxy nearly a millenium prior to the present.

Surging forth from the depths of hyperspace, the Confederacy's delegation were the first to arrive on the scene. Upon coming to a full and complete halt near the Asteroid in question, the clone descended from his place on the bridge of the Star Destroyer down to the hanger bay. He was joined by a squad of his trusted compatriots, known simply as the Black Watch, and a handful of others whose positions were in other offices about the Confederacy's military and Templar Order. Together, they joined the armor-clad clone in a single shuttle and made the voyage from the Resolute-class' hanger to the ancient Base below. Time had not been especially kind to the establishment, but the vital functions still worked and it was the perfect place for a meeting of this sort.

Upon landing and disembarking from the shuttle, Genesis and his compatriots made their way within the Base and settled themselves in a conference room at the uppermost level. Transmissions were sent out, both from the delegation's ships and from the Black Watch, informing the coming Crusaders that this was where the Grand Marshal would be. Genesis, once all that was said and done, seated himself upon one of the seats circumventing the table situated in the center of the room and awaited the arrival of the leadership of the Moross Crusade. He hoped that this encounter would be a peaceful one, and one that resulted in a lasting relationship between the two nations.

@[member="Amorella Mae"],

Cedric Dorn

Soliael stood on the bridge of his HARC class ship called They Freya. Hyperspace lay stretched out before him, the stars being turned into thin lines as his ship traveled at millions of miles per hour. They say that staring into the void of hyperspace was sickening ordeal, that it would drive one mad but much like many other Sith Lords Soliael found the sight quite comforting. Of course it was only because it reminded him of the Pit and the endless expanses of the darkness.

He smiled slightly, his thoughts turning to his time within the prison. Anyone else would not have looked back at that time with fondness, but Soliael was not just anyone. The smile disappeared from his face however as the lines of Hyperspace faded away and the small corvette faded back into realspace.

Before him sat an asteroid field, within it several ships of the Confederacy, and upon them an ambassador. That was the man that Soliael and Amore were here to meet, not as God's but as representatives of Moross. For now they had foregone their visages as Gods, casting off that lie and taking on a new one. Both Soliael and Amore were very aware of how it would look if they claimed to be gods upon first meeting, they knew that such a thing would likely bring the negotiations up to a...rocky start. So at this Aunt's suggestion Soliael and herself had simply decided to appear...normal.

As the Corvette came in towards the Confederacy ship he smiled slightly, this would be their first contact with the other great players of the galactic game. “Amore. Were here.”

In one quick step Soliael turned on his heel, immediately heading towards the hangar and the transport that was there.


Velaeri Mortaine
As was becoming rather usual for Amore during any long flight, the Priestess was resting. Conserving her energy had become paramount to maintaining the facade of a Goddess, especially as her sickness continued to slowly grow worse. Night terrors were developing now, so she was not sleeping well - neither, she noted, was Soliael when he was home on Exocron. The previous night had been particularly challenging for the both of them as the Sith Sorcerer tempted to contain the dark venom in her veins even despite her objections. She knew it was necessary, Amore simply couldn't handle the cost of his aid.

Blue eyes paled by illness slowly shifted open at the sound of her nephew's voice. Amore took a deep breath and pushed herself to her feet, delicate hands lifting to pull the hood of her robes over her head. There would be no mask today, just as there were no Morossian devout on their ship. The guise of Gods lifted for a meeting with those of more traditional roots. This had been decided in the quiet hours of the morning when there was no sleep to be had. Words expressed over the aroma of steaming tea - who would take them seriously with the masks on? So today they were simply speakers of a greater power, much like many of the men and women from the Confederacy they would meet today. A level playing field was essential to peace talks, that much the Kuatian Princess did know.

On her nephew's heels, Amore willed herself to energize and keep up with his stride. A brief repose was given as she joined Soliael in a lift and took those silent moments to study her ghostly reflection in the duraglass side. Her handmaidens had taken care of her makeup, covering the paleness of her flesh with a natural, lively pink. For all the world she felt ill, but she looked as bright as she had the day she first arrived on Exocron. A soft smile pulled at her lips, followed by a short glance upwards at Sol. The man would feel her hand gently squeeze at his arm in quiet gratitude for everything he'd done.

The lift door opened then and she followed him out to the transport.

A short while later they disembarked into the Base Dadonna, the Priestess' stride pausing as she took it all in.

"It's so old..." the comment echoed like a stale wind through the empty corridor, her eyes roving across the dust-covered platings on the walls. Older than Soliael? She wondered, briefly amused. Her steps resumed, a softer patter following the sharp stride of her fellow Moross leader.

@[member="Soliael Devin Talith"]
@[member="Genesis Rostu"]

Cedric Dorn

Soliael looked at his aunt as she made the comment about the station being old. He couldn't help but raise a slight eyebrow in response to her, though amusement passed across his face. This station was by all accounts ancient, it had created by the Rebel Alliance during the time of the Old Empire, nearly eight hundred years ago now. This station was older than Soliael and his mother put together, something that truthfully was rather surprising since it seemed to be mostly intact.

After a few more seconds of sharing the sighs with Amorella he gave her a slight jerk of his head. Whoever the Confederate ambassador was he was likely already waiting for the two of them in the meeting room.

Quickly Soliael began to walk, his aunt following alongside him. Unlike their Confederate counter part neither Amorella nor Soliael had brought any guards. No Crusaders of Moross followed them, no Valkyries, not even a pair of guard droids. Neither of the guards of Moross were worried about being captured or killed. Some might have taken that as hubris, though in truth it was more a sign of good faith. They were here to talk, not to fight.

Finally after another five minutes of walking Soliael and Amore reached the top level of the base. At the door stood two Confederate guards. The Sith could tell neither their rank nor their designation so he simply nodded in greeting to them, both guards did not respond in kind. He shrugged slightly and walked between the two men and into the conference room.

There within the room sat a man, stoic as the guards outside. Soliael looked at him, and then raised his hand in greeting.

“Hello sir. May I introduce Priestess Mae.” Soliael gestured to Amorella, and then to himself. “And myself, Crusader Devin.”
At long last, the delegation from the Moross Crusade had arrived, and straightway the clone's stoic appearance was replaced with one of warmth. He rose from his seat, a smile upon his face, and crossed the distance between the three of them in order to greet them properly. To the priestess was rendered a respectful half-bow, and to the Crusader was rendered an equally-respectful nod of the head and and the extending of his right hand in greeting. "A pleasure to finally make your acquaintance Priestess, and yours Crusader Devin." he said, allowing time for the man to render a handshake before motioning at the table behind him. "Come, join me, we have much to discuss!"

There was an edge of...excitement in his voice; and in truth that was the case. After all, it was not everyday that the Grand Marshal had the pleasure of welcoming a new nation into the Galactic community, nor extend to them the olive branch of friendship, collaboration, and alliance. Having motioned to the table, he strode back over to his seat and lowered himself into it; then allowed a few more moments so that they may sit as well before he began. "First and foremost," he began, "I'd like to thank the both of you for coming. I do apologize about the state of our meeting place, but I wanted to be absolutely certain that our first meeting would be upon truly neutral ground."

"Now then, the reason I have called you hear today is due to the fact that it is the desire of the Confederacy of Independent Systems to make friends of you, our new neighbors! We would like to become your ally and mutually grow together as brothers and sisters of the South. Of course, the terms of this pending alliance would be the main subject of this pending discussion, but first I must ask, do you have any reservations about an alliance with the Confederacy?"

@[member="Soliael Devin Talith"].
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