Countering a Crisis

[Rugs]

Shadows grew long in the Supreme Chancellor’s office.

Alder realized, as the door slid gracefully shut behind a pair of Iridonian delegates, that the day was nearly done. The sky, visible through the wide, floor-to-ceiling transparisteel window that stretched nearly from one end of his office to the other had given up its midday blue time ago. Now it was all reds and oranges as the sun — presently hidden behind a distant skyscraper — eased toward the horizon. Today carried the makings of another late night at the office.

He rubbed his head, cupping his hands over his mouth and stifling a yawn. While he would never challenge the importance of clarifying the Republic’s stance on Iridonia’s imposing taxes on imports from neighboring Glee Anselm, it’d be a lie to call that particular dispute invigorating.

Two strong personalities taking their disagreements out on each other’s worlds, he thought as he walked to a small side room to pour a glass of water. Glee Anselm’s delegation would arrive tomorrow for their side of the meetings.

Even with the eastern quadrant of the Galaxy wracked by terror from the mysterious alien invasion, the work of governing never stopped. And the crisis — these Archeri, they were called — hadn’t touched the Republic.

Yet. Each passing week brought more systems into their hands, and concerns abounded that their conquests were accelerating.

Speaking of... “D-1NO,” he called for his protocol droid. “How long ‘til the next appointment?”

“Oh! Sir, approximately 4.5 minutes.” D-1NO’s servers whirred hurriedly as he scrambled toward Alder, who was reemerging into his office with a glass of water in hand. “I believe they have already arrived, but I can go to check and make sure they are comfortable waiting the rest of the ti-”

“Send them in if they’re here,” Alder said. He set the glass on his desk. “No need to wait for four minutes just for the hell of it.”

The droid hurried out into the hallway. Alder settled into his chair and glanced at the setting sun. The window automatically tinted enough to protect the eyes from harm. Outside, Coruscant's ceaseless traffic filled the skyways, as it would into the night and the next morning after that and so on, unperturbed by the trouble darkening the Galaxy’s edge.

Alder turned around, facing the door. General Horst and Battlemaster Vyshaan were due any moment. Horst, as he understood it, was seeking help for a matter the Galactic Senate was proving rather stubborn on. Master Vyshaan had decades of wisdom to call upon — a gift that Alder had personally requested as the Republic continued to evaluate the looming crisis.

No matter what was tearing a path through Hutt Space, with leaders like Horst and Master Vyshaan, Alder knew the Republic — like Corsucan’ts unending traffic — would endure. Now it needed to ensure the rest of the Galaxy would do the same.

[Fromikeable]

"-don't care if he wants he a mountain of gold bars tied up in platinum tape, he's not gettin' it until we get this shit cleared."

"I understand sir, but Admiral Henshaw was adamant."

"If he wants to go get us our twentieth emergency cease order, he can have a fuckin' ball. I'm not bailin' him out when we have to court martial his ass."

"What should I tell him?"

"Tell him to take two days off n' visit his family. They're on Kuat, ain't they?"

"I believe so, sir."

"Tell him that then. This meeting with Alder goes well, it'll be the last time he can see his folks before we mobilize."

"Aye sir. Good luck."

"Thanks." Ending the call with a tap of his fingers, Horst sighed heavily. It was easy to forget with all the time he was spending among politicians and civilians these days that he wasn't the most trigger-happy man in the Republic military. He was sure many senators would disagree with that claim; after the last emergency cease order for moving the Enduring Flame, a small coalition of ten of them had come to his office to personally declare their newest mission in life: his removal from the Chiefs of Staff. Granted, he hadn't heard jack shit since then, so he'd just assumed they were all just kicking up dust.

Hopefuly Alder was the cure to his woes. Between the Senate's reluctance to let him use the most expensive warship in the fleet for what it was made to do and the weekly reports of populated worlds falling in Hutt Space, Horst felt like he was caught in a vice. One prong was the usual concrete of trying to get anything of value done in a bureaucracy as big and bloated as the Republic. The other was far more unfamiliar, the exact threat of these "Archeri" taking more definite form with every day. Pictures of them had gotten out onto the holonet (much to the chagrin of Republic Intelligence), and scattered reports of their occupations of conquered worlds were concerning. Combining all of that with the confirmation of their largest ship, their "Spire", and the Enduring Flame was becoming less of a luxury and more of a necessity.

Yet there it sat over Kuat in dock, the sailors aboard being paid to sit and wait.

The reappearance of the chancellor's protocol droid snapped Horst from his thoughts, sitting up straighter in the waiting room. As the droid settled itself back at its reception terminal, its head swirled toward him. "Thank you for your patience, General. The Supreme Chancellor will see you now."

With a grunt of thanks, Horst pushed himself up by his knees. Walking through the office doors, he couldn't help taking a look around. The view from this office always managed to strike him. So elevated, so ample to look around and see the planet, and yet every wall of the office always felt sort've like a jail. Not a prison, it wasn't that grim, but it was hard to think of going to the Chancellor's office when circumstances were good.

Making a mental note to invite Alder to something distinctly not-awful after all of this was over, Horst approached alder with an outstretched hand, his cap coming up and off his head with his other.

"Alder. Been a minute, eh?" He small grin crept onto the general's face, accompanied by a short, huffed chuckle. "How's the family?" Horst wasn't usually one for small talk, but between the Vrieskas seeming like nice people and the heaviness of the subjects before them, he genuinely wanted to know.

[Neology]

[googlefont="News Cycle"]

These chambers had been almost a second home once, during the war. More than any other posting that Verity could remember. Beautiful, though she had ceased to be amazed by that long ago, trailing along behind Master Konshi as part of one or another long-dead politician's security detail. She had not been sad to see less of this place after the Peace of Prazhi. Yet, now she shared this lavish parlor with the Chief of the General Staff – and overhearing his comcall whether she wanted to or not. One could only pretend to monkish introspection for so long. By the time he hung up, Verity was staring at him in undisguised curiosity. There was only one ship, as far as she knew, that could inspire twenty emergency cease orders. And so. We’re all taking this very seriously then. Good. What few first hand accounts they had from Hutt space and beyond were frustratingly inconclusive. Dire and immediate implications abounded, though certain rumors had the potential to tie up the council for months or even years of debate. Invaders that could touch the Force. Who made new force adepts out of anyone their deadly pandemic failed to slay. What were the Jedi to make of that, she wondered. Their long and deadly rivalry with the Sith almost seemed familiar and sympathetic by comparison. The chancellor’s droid collected them in short order, before there was much opportunity to wade alone into conversation with General Stellar. She’d always liked the view from Alder’s office, though in truth it was only a different angle; many of the same buildings and landmarks were visible from the temple’s towers. Families … She didn’t generally mind small talk, but that subject was particularly estranged. The Jedi Master quirked a brow and excused herself from those few voyeuristic details by unfolding the leather wallet that contained her datapad and falling into a seat. A twitch of her fingers called up parsed reports, should she need them for reference. Almost an afterthought, she dipped her head briefly in respect, owed even to friends in this closed session. ”Gentlemen. How may the Jedi be of service?”

[Rugs]

No sooner had Alder turned his attention from the sunset than his guests arrived. He remained standing as Horst entered, followed by Master Vyshaan. “It’s good to see you both,” he said, smiling warmly.

His smile changed subtly as he shook the general’s outstretched hand. Horst was one of Alder’s first nominations after assuming the chancellorship. So far, he’d more than justified Alder’s faith in him. Alder took a certain friendly liking to Horst as well--there was a realness about him that was hard to find around the Senate District.

“The family’s well,” he said. “I hope to visit soon, work allowing. Force willing we’ll all still be fine, once this mess is done.”

He motioned for both of them to sit before seating himself. A trio of flimsiplast stacks lay on his desk — identical documents for each of them to review, either here or on their own.

That intelligence had been considerably bolstered recently be a pile of documents from the Jedi Order. One of the Jedi’s undercover agents apparently had some reliable contacts in Hutt Space.

“Before we begin,” he said, “I want to confirm what I’m sure you both already know: I will have requests of you, but I didn’t request you both here to only make asks of you. If there’s anything I can do to assist either of you, please, feel free to ask.”

“Master Vyshaan, your Order’s help has already been invaluable,” Alder said with a courteous nod as he tapped the flimsies. “These reports from Hutt Space are...” he hesitated. ‘Distrubing’ didn’t seem to do the crisis justice. A Force-using nomadic space horde that propagated itself through a plague unlike anything in recent memory was terrifying.

Alder exhaled through his nose, eyes closed for a brief moment. “It’s very concerning. Beyond the military threat these Archeri may one day pose to us, we’ve seen a swell in refugees, particularly along our border worlds closest to Hutt Space.”

Alder flipped through the documents. Bothawai was seeing the greatest influx of refugees, but the tide was rising in Randon and nearby systems. “We will likely need the Jedi’s assistance, both in discerning the totality of the threat the Archeri pose to our Republic, and in managing the refugees and providing care to those who need it. I know those are, of course, decisions for your Council to make, Master Vyshaan, but I fear pressing times are upon us. Do you have a feel for how willing the Order is to offer further assistance?”

Now Alder turned to Horst. He was well-acquainted with the general’s ongoing struggle to engage the Enduring Flame in responding to the Archeri threat. “General,” he said, “Our military will likewise need to be prepared for responses, both humanitarian and military. And have you made any progress in your efforts with the Flame?”

[Fromikeable]

”Good. Tell Orona I still daydream ‘bout those tiny truffles she had made for the inauguration.” Turning to Verity as she entered the room with a tiny bow, Horst responded with a tiny salute, quick and respectful. For all his criticisms of the war policy to instantly make Jedi commanders during the war, none of them had quite earned their rank quite like Battlemaster Vyshaan. She’d shown a discipline on par with any experienced soldier, but more importantly, she hadn’t batted an eye at the Order’s involvement in military operations once they had entered the war in force. Asking her and her Jedi for help had never been a question of “if”, even in the worst of assignments.

She’d gotten stuff done. That won her points in Horst’s book.

Taking her cue, the General made his way to a seat opposite her and Alder, the three of them forming a sort of triangle about the Chancellor’s desk. As Alder began to speak, Horst plucked up one of the stacks of flimsies, beginning to thumb through. The more he skimmed, the more his face seemed to scrunch, forming an expression somewhere between disbelief and disgust.

”’Very concerning’? It’s a goddamn Force plague.” Thumbing through the last of the pages, Horst sighed heavily, dropping the stack on his lap and rubbing his eyes. ”Explains why every bioengineer we’ve thrown at this problem’s been scratching their heads when we’ve asked for a cure.” Rubbing at his chin, Horst finally put his hands back on the rests of his chair, making a mental note to see about getting Master Nemsee some sort of reward. Did the Jedi offer their people leave?

Questions for later.

”We kicked the fleets up to DEFCON 3 this morning, Ald. Bothawui’s been gettin’ emergency aid as best we can bring it, but between the quarantines, the flood of refugees, and some local political garbage, it’s been rough goin’. ‘Specially since we’re tryin’ to handle all’ve this without inoculations or cures on a planet that was already sittin’ at two point five billion people.” Horst gave a single huff, shaking his head. ”I’m gettin’ calls every day from the Bothan Senators askin’ for updates. Poor bastards’ve got no idea what to do, and there’s not much I can tell ‘em.”

Turning to Verity, Horst nodded. ”We definitely need the Jedi on this if it’s rooted in Force science.” Sitting back in his chair, he folded his arms. ”I’m up the creek tryin’ to get the Flame rolled out. Half the Senatorial Committee on Militarization won’t even talk to me, and the other half just keeps shrugging at me and givin’ me some pre-packaged BS line about ‘appropriate force for appropriate threat’. Meanwhile, Hutt space’s on fire and a crystal that makes the Senate building look like a fuckin’ wood cabin’s zapping planets like the galaxy’s biggest camera flash.” Letting loose a stressed sigh, Horst bit his tongue, stymying further complaints.

”I need you on this one, Ald. They’re not gonna’ buy it from me.” Looking at Verity again, he shook his head. ”I hope the Order’s takin’ this more seriously than they are, or we’re really gonna’ get smacked in the face.”

[Neology]

Verity set her datapad aside, briefly thumbing through this new stack of flimsies on Alder’s desk. It seemed, in the broad strokes, that no new disasters had sprung up during the ride over. Though there were doubtless small updates present in this data set. If the subject matter were not so dire, if her time and attention were not so fully absorbed … She would have liked to compare and contrast. ”Thank you, Chancellor. We ask only for understanding. The conflict with the Sith cost us all dearly, though we Jedi will not know to what extent for another generation.” Verity closed the file and set her hands on the table, palms down, very still. The documents and footage from Master Nemsee had been an unexpected gift, arriving on the heels of those very first rumors. The Hutt fleet’s unusual movements – and everything reported since -- seemed to confirm their truth so far. How he’d managed to obtain any of it was a question for another day, perhaps to be delayed indefinitely if it remained up to her. Geese and golden eggs, naturally. ”We do not want another war – and you may be sure that the debates will take ages. Too long, I think.” These creatures were moving faster than even the Mandalorians ever had, swallowing up distant Hutt systems two or three at a time. ”But the Council is not entirely reflective of the Order, trending old and tired like myself.” The Jedi had changed much, even compared to just twenty years ago. The unprecedented creation of the Blades, and their eventual reintegration, presented an Order now much more ready for war than at any other point in Verity’s long memory. Though any who fall, in either sense, fail to train their replacements ... It was a frustrating eventuality, often on her mind, that the Order could not properly replenish itself. ”You will have our volunteers, like Naaden before you. Soldiers and spies and healers, all.” She tapped a few keys on her datapad. Master Nemsee had already been sent back out, along with a few others. Good. Some kind of ship in distress? Sensing eyes on her, Verity glanced up and returned Horst’s stare. His frustration and impatience was a palpable thing. A bit of a double standard, she’d always thought. No frowning master to admonish him for his emotions – at least not since he’d climbed to this dizzying height – and he surely had more tangible power than most Jedi. ”If they remain unmoved by words, show the footage from Edgepoint Station or Weeping Falls. And, Horst … I expect a berth on that ship. Once you tease the keys from their hand.”

[Rugs]

Alder nodded his head in deep appreciation for Verity’s words. “Thank you Master Vyshaan,” he said. “And as did my predecessor, I will do all that I can to ensure you have the Republic’s full support.”

Bothawui — now there was a problem that’d only grown worse since its emergence. Alder knew the situation was grim, and Horst’s take on affairs in the border system did little to lighten the picture.

“General, I want you to continue to see what resources our military can bring to bear to help Bothawui,” Alder said. “I know it’s not an easy ask and you know neither of us wants you to put our men and women in danger. However...” Alder closed his eyes, mind pressing for answers amidst the swirling clouds of the unknown that surrounded this whole affair. A Galactic catastrophe in the making, if the plague couldn’t be stopped.

“We have to do everything we can,” he said. “If it cannot be contained at Bothawui, Moonus Mandel and Kothlis are sure to follow. We cannot allow Bothawui to turn into a beachhead for these invaders.” Alder’s face grew grim, brows pushed together in worry. “Even if that means quarantining Bothawui until this situation is past. We must protect the Republic.”

Troubling, to have to even consider that. But it was a potential eventuality that could not be ignored. If the Republic efforts at treatment failed to stop the plague from taking deeper root on Bothawui, then it must instead turn to containment. To quarantine the system wouldn’t mean to cut it off from Republic aid and care entirely — quite the opposite, in Alder’s mind. But still, he shuddered to think of taking such a step.

“I will see what additional funding I can wring out of the Senate for increased aid to the system,” he said, scribbling a note on one of his flimsies. “Bothawui’s delegation should be helpful, in that regard.”

Alder’s brows rose slightly as Horst let loose some of his frustrations regarding the Senate’s refusal to authorize deploying the Enduring Flame. All told — knowing the general’s temper as he did — it could be worse.

“Well, General, I can promise you whatever support from me you need,” he said. “If it comes to it...” Alder paused, to choose his words carefully. “There is a provision in that allows me to make some decisions unilaterally, in emergency situations. Now, in order for that to happen, an emergency has to be declared, and that’s a whole different pile of bantha shit that we don’t want to get into right now.”

I think Master Vyshaan’s suggestion is a good one. Let them see what we’re facing. Make them say, on record, why we should not devote every resource available to keep what’s happening over and over in Hutt Space from happening within our own borders.” Alder’s voice rose slightly as he talked. He understood politicians and the games they played--he was one, after all, and played the game himself. In times of crisis, though, it was ceaselessly frustrating. “But, if they will not see any other way, I could, in theory, authorize the Flame’s deployment myself. It’s a limited time frame, though, before the Senate has to approve the continuation of any military action.”

Now he looked at Horst dead in the eye, his voice level. “If we reach that point, Horst, I need you to be absolutely sure that we can handle this, or the Senate will hang us both up by our ankles outside the Senate building.”

Hopefully it won’t come to that, he thought. The Senate can be slow to act, but they see reason in the end. Most of the time.

Alder flipped through some of his documents as he turned again to Verity. “I did have another question for you, Master Vyshaan. As you know, I’m not familiar with the ways of the Force, so forgive me if this is a strange question but, some of these documents the Order provided seem to indicate that the plague can introduce signs of Force sensitivity in people who were otherwise non-sensitive.” Alder’s expression turned questioning. It seemed too wild a thing to comprehend.

“If that’s the case, would it be possible to use members of the Order to, for lack of a better word, screen for signs of the plague in people? Especially in our worlds near Hutt Space?”

[Fromikeable]

”Lady, the minute that thing pulls out of port, you’re getting a command, not just a berth.” For all his griping about how certain Jedi in the war hadn’t deserved their instant general statuses, there were many Jedi that Horst wouldn’t bat an eye at having return to the command structure. Verity and the masters and knights like her were the primary candidates. Each was a shining examples of why the ancient relationship between the average Republic soldier and the average Jedi commander had preserved the nation as it had. In the face of something like the Chorus, that relationship was that much more essential. The Jedi brought the knowledge and the unique power. The soldiers brought the hands, feet, guns, and lives.

Combined, even the Sith hadn’t been able to break them, close as they’d come.

Alder’s instructions were affirmed with a wordless nod. Horst could understand an ultimatum when he word one, no matter how diplomatically it was worded. The simple truth was that the Chorus capturing even a single Republic world, let alone as populated as Bothawui, was a biological-warfare disaster. Whether or not the planet could be saved was a moral issue. Whether or not the sector could be was a practical issue.

As the Chancellor went on, Horst scribbled a note on his copy of the plague report. Deploy relief and patrol fleets to Bothawui, prepare blockade.

As Alder’s eyes met his, Horst seemed to settle back into his chair, his mouth pressing into a line. With a nod of his head, he folded his arms. ”Ald, until the Chorus’s been neutralized, I’m just a scrapheap hound on a chain. The minute you get the chance to unhook me?” Horst snapped his fingers.

”I take off for the fences and don’t come back without some kind’ve fungal foot on my fangs. You focus on the rounding up the clowns in the circus tent. I guarantee you I’ll have the show ready to go at the drop’ve a hat.” Cracking a smile, Horst huffed a single chuckle.

”Gotta’ make sure there’s still a Senate to hang us, after all.”

Following Alder’s gaze to Verity, Horst hummed at the mention of detection. Force science wasn’t the Republic military’s forte; most of its precautions and defenses against such powers had actually been the work of Jedi past. With that said-

”What about sensitivity tests too?” Looking to Verity with a gesturing hand, Horst offered a small one-shoulder shrug. ”I’m not sure how the Archeri’re giving out Force powers, but reports indicate they’ve been using sleeper agents to try and spread the infection. Hell, that’s one of our best theories on how they got things out of control on Bothawui.” The gesturing hand returned to Horst’s chin, giving it a wondering scratch.

”Every clinic and hospital on the planet’s got a stock of midichlorian blood tests. That might be a good backup, maybe a screening process, help with containment and quarantine, all that jazz. Think they’re worth a damn?”

[Neology]

The chancellor’s endorsement brought her no pleasure. There was a delicate line between presenting the naked truth because it was necessary and the dark possibilities it might go on to inspire. Panic ultimately served no one, but contentment moved no one – or their credits. Finding the right emotional resonance, playing it like a song … It sounded exhausting, but Alder was undoubtedly the man for the job. Verity laced her fingers together and leaned back in her chair. She expected her fellow Jedi to be largely of two camps. Those who had been most eager to fight before and those who had not. Their noncombatants and many, many Service Corps personnel were scattered somewhere in between. Less free to choose than the Knights and Masters. Her ability to command any of them, on breath alone, was rather questionable. But there were students and favors and old friends aplenty. A holocall away, most of them. At a direct question, Verity sat up straight again. ”Oh. Yes, that.” She had seen those medical reports – though they largely went over her head – and immediately requested her friend, Archivist Taas Erastothene, drop everything else to study them. It was intensely concerning, to say the very least. Miraculous – if only it wasn’t the apparent side effect of a deadly plague. If not for that, it could free the Jedi. Or destroy them. And what exactly might it do to the Sith? ”That … Seems sound.” Midichlorian counts for the infected appeared to climb up and up over time. ”It would be most accurate compared against a baseline for that individual, though that would hardly be practical or possible out on the rim. But yes, I think it would work. “That said, I urge caution in the implementation. Until these Jedi are in place and proven, the blood tests that we have only guarantee force sensitivity. With no idea how long this crisis will last, I am reluctant to create a lasting prejudice against our Republic’s nascent force adepts. Yet I see it may be necessary.” Stifling an unhappy sigh, Verity glanced from one man to the other. Even in this familiar office, with this receptive audience, the way forward seemed murky.

[Rugs]

“Oh, there’ll be a Senate, trust me.” Alder smiled in spite of himself. “Something tells me we’d both be gone before this crisis grew so deep as to threaten that sterling body.” A touch of sarcasm colored the end of his words. The Senate could be endlessly frustrating, but he had come from it. He was still a part of it, even.

“I’ll call an emergency session,” he said, writing notes to himself as he spoke to Horst and Master Vyshaan. “Horst, I’ll need you there with me. I know some of them will have heard what you have to say already. But I can raise my voice and stir emotion until I’m blue in the face, but you, better than anyone I know, can convey what this means in a real, military sense.”

He paused, stylus pressed to his lips in thought. “I’ll make sure it’s televised, as well.”

As the conversation continued, he glanced at the general and the Battlemaster, nodding at their words in turn. Force sensitivity testing as a screen for the Plague seemed a sound idea, as Master Vyshaan said. The infrastructure for that already existed--at least in Republic space.

But not in Hutt Space. Alder frowned sightly. Not reliably. In another timeline, where some sort of warning came before the Archeri’s arrival, the Republic might have coordinated with the Hutts on at least bolstering that capability.

That’d be a tall task even ahead of time. In the middle of the inferno engulfing Hutt Space, it seemed impossible.

For some things, the Republic could only worry about itself. It was an unpleasant truth, but inescapable.

“Of course, Master Vyshaan,” he said, looking up. “We will proceed as best we can, and will continue to seek guidance from your order in that process’ implementation. These new adepts, as you say, are our citizens, and these... developments are not their fault” It’d be best to appoint some sort of liaison between the Order and the Republic proper.

Someone from the Department of Health, most likely. Alder scribbled more notes. And it might not hurt, with Verity’s cautioning in mind, to get his staff to begin brainstorming education campaigns. She was right — witch hunts or worse against the infected could create a disaster that lingered long after the Chorus was dealt with.

“It will take time to get this all in place, of course — as it will for the Jedi to deploy,” he said. “Unfortunately, I fear time may be working against us, but we can’t change some realities.”

He laid his stylus down and regarded Horst and Verity in turn. “There is one matter I wished to discuss with both of you in particular,” he said. Alder closed his eyes for a moment and drew a deep breath. “We have initiated talks for a potential summit between myself and the Sith Empress. These are still very, very preliminary, but I suspect this... crisis warrants discussion between the Republic and Empire.

“If this summit happens, I would like to request that both of you be in attendance.” Horst, he supposed, wouldn’t have a say any other way if he told him to go, but Alder didn’t view himself as a tyrant. Master Vyshaan, though, had no obligation to Alder to attend. He looked at them both, wondering what thoughts swirled in their heads. “Are your presences something I can count on?”

[Fromikeable]

Horst's lips pressed a bit as Verity described her worries about the tests. They were valid concerns; the first rule of a crisis was that people would look for something to blame, just to make themselves feel a little more in-control. It was hard to imagine, of all things, Force-sensitives and the Jedi Order getting the finger from an outraged public, but crazier things had happened.

"Ald's right. We'll make sure people don't go huntin' kids down in the streets." Horst tried not to imagine some poor kid clutching a high Force-sensitivity test result in their hands sprinting for their life from some angry mob. It was the exact sort of mindless discord the Chorus apparently kept preaching about. Their propaganda had spread so far as the holonet boards, so he'd been told. While it was easy enough to discredit and ignore with society functioning as it always had, it would a hard sell to convince the average citizen that they were insane of their fellow sentient was foaming at the mouth howling for blood of kids and refugees.

On the polar opposite side of the spectrum was the summit. Horst tried his best not to let his discomfort with the idea show, but nevertheless he sat up a little straighter, his hands resting a bit more properly on the armrests of his chair. The idea of talking with the Empire wasn't what bothered him. That's what had ended the war, and that's what had stopped every would-be war for the last two years from spilling out. In terms of arbitration and settling disputes, many as they were, they'd managed.

The problem was that he'd never met an Imperial leader that didn't look like they'd stab him in the neck without a second thought.

"I'll be there, sure. But you don't want me at the table until it's time to talk shop." Crossing his arms, Horst's tone was stiff. "Never been much of a diplomat." He would leave it at that.

[Neology]

”I thank you for your care, my friends.” Verity bowed her head, accepting their assurances with grace. Only time would tell if mindfulness now would – or even could – reach all the way out to the ragged edges of the conflict to come. But it was surely a better thing to have leaders that took pause for the Order’s concerns than those who would not. ”That sounds like a hard thing to sell, Chancellor. Harder even than taking the dreadnought out.” Verity wondered how the Jedi would take such news. Not so long ago, many had thought of combating the Sith Order as their highest duty. And only the smallest children would have forgotten the Sith sortie on Coruscant itself. ”I can see it must be done. But I do not think many will favor the idea.” She was already nodding agreement as Alder went on. ”My placement will ultimately be up to the Council, of course, but I do not think they will deny a direct request from this office.” Verity smiled, very slightly. The Council would send many of its other members as well, she thought. Those who could be spared. ”If you are to sit down with the Sith Empress and her cults, then the Jedi must be there to protect you.” She could not imagine Empress Renata submitting to any other check on her formidable powers of influence. ”I will have my kit sent over as soon as you have selected a ship.”