Beyond - Legends Annals of the Noble House of Trieste: Volume 13 (AU, OC)

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn

Coruscant

“Senator, do you have a moment?”

“Yes, of course,” Declan said, motioning from his desk to his chief of staff to approach.

Though Serrah Kovak’s diminutive stature as a Chadra-Fan suggested that she would be trampled in the halls of the Galactic Senate, her record said otherwise. She’d already served as a chief of staff to a previous senator (one who had lost his reelection campaign) and had reputation for running an efficient office.

“I reviewed your hiring decisions and wanted to highlight a potential oversight,” Serrah said, presenting a datapad.

“I hope I didn’t approve hiring some lobbyist’s kid,” Declan said. Compared to Bakura, the Galactic Senate had looser ethics rules. He’d told Serrah that he wanted to hold his office to Bakuran standards even if they didn’t have to, which included preventing conflicts of interest or the appearance of them.

“No,” Serrah said. She’d screened for such problems before any candidates had reached Declan’s desk. “I was reviewing the legal affairs staff and I noticed that they’re lacking in drafting experience. I recommend substituting in someone with experience writing legislation. It’ll make it more likely your bills get through committee.” Serrah was being kind. Poorly drafted legislation never made it out of committee in the Galactic Senate.

“I appreciate your diligence, but it’s not an oversight,” Declan replied, handing the datapad back. “We won’t be writing any legislation.”

“That is…” Serrah searched for a word that wouldn’t offend the senator.

“Unusual, I’m sure,” Declan finished for her, “but there are enough senators who propose legislation. This office will focus understanding legislation. We’ll work with other offices on amendments if we decide to pursue them. Far too many senators are overly eager to make their mark by writing laws that they don’t take the time to assess the impact of the bills they vote on. We will not be one of them.”

“That may make it hard to be reelected.”

“I imagine it will be harder than the first time,” Declan remarked. Serrah almost thought she had a smile.

“Anything else different you intend on doing?” the chief of staff asked.

“Oh yes,” he replied, “but we’ll deal with that when we come to it, shall we?”

Serrah Kovak was pretty sure she was going to need another new job in five years.

---

Hapes

“Congratulations on a successful visit to the Centrality,” Corrine said. “You and Queen Carley seemed to get along well from the reports.”

“We have a good deal of common cause,” Sierra agreed.

A lull entered the conversation in the Queen Mother’s sitting room, even though it had barely begun. Corrine didn’t say anything because she knew what was coming next. She had since she’d received the summons. Sierra didn’t say anything because she was trying to figure out how to begin.

“So,” Sierra said.

“Yes,” Corrine replied.

“The chume’doro informed me of your…field trip.”

“As I expected they would.”

The Queen Mother and chume’da took each other in from their opposing seats for a moment.

“You risked quite a bit,” Sierra stated.

“I won quite a bit.”

“You put your brother in danger.”

“He was eager for something to do.”

“Ivgenni is prone to rush into something exciting.”

“Like most males,” Corrine observed.

“Corrine.” The Queen Mother’s tone carried the reprimand. “I raised you better than that.”

“He’s bored, mother,” Corrine said, “and he was clearly ready.”

“And you think I don’t feel he’s ready?” Sierra’s question sounded more like a statement.

Corrine declined to take that up, responding only with a small shrug.

Sierra sighed. “What do you think you accomplished?”

“I sent a warning to those who would challenge this family, who would exploit a moment of relative weakness. They know that we’re watching them, that we are prepared to rebuff any assault they make against us.”

“We can’t watch them all,” Sierra cautioned.

“They don’t have to know that,” Corrine pointed out. “I could have sent a message by killing Kailora, but that would have been excessive and likely to start a blood feud. It would have been counterproductive. We were only being tested, not attacked. The situation didn’t escalate, nor did we back down.”

“Soon enough the Ervenias or their like will come again.”

“But not for a while.”

“No. They’ll remember this for some time thanks to your flair for the dramatic.” Sierra had to agree with her daughter.

“I think that about covers it,” Corrine said standing, “don’t you think?”

“Yes. You did well,” the Queen Mother complimented her.

Corrine smiled. “Thank you, mother.”

When her daughter was gone and she was alone, Sierra pulled back her veil. She dabbed the corners of her eyes with a shimmersilk handkerchief, catching the slow tears she now allowed to leak out. Corrine had done excellently. Sierra had worried her daughter would kill someone. It was what most other Hapans would have done. Corrine’s restraint was proof that Sierra had succeeded in raising Corrine the way she’d wanted. She was on the path to being a better Queen Mother, a kinder one. She wouldn’t be like Sierra, an outsider who would always be viewed with some degree of suspicion. Corrine would be a true Hapan, but one who had the potential to enlighten her people.

Sierra stifled a sob. She had done her job too well. Her daughter was a woman now, a Hapan. Sierra would only be able to help the chume’da so much in the years that would follow. Corrine would make her own choices. Sierra could only hope they would be good ones.

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn

Yenshay County, Bakura

Shenandoah stepped out of the speeder and took in her surroundings from behind sunglasses. “So this is it.” She held a hand over her eyes to further shade them from the sun.

“Welcome to the rez,” Niall said, shutting the driver’s side door.

Since graduating last year from UBSD, Niall had been working for the Prytis Accords Foundation. It had been set up by their Aunt Falene to assist both Kurtzen and Sith descendants found on Kitokaime in transitioning back to life in the known galaxy. The latter had largely returned to life as normal, dispersing through the galaxy.

The Foundation now focused on supporting the Kurtzen. While the Bakuran government had been generous with grants of land and social programs, Bakura’s native sentient species had only returned to the planet less than 40 years ago. They had centuries of culture and tradition to reestablish on a planet that had literally been rebuilt since they last lived on it. Though Bakuran institutions had included the Kurtzen when the colony was founded, the current society had been designed without them and operated that way for over 60 years before their return.

The reservation in Yenshay County on the continent of Kishh’daar was the largest by area and population. It was where Niall spent most of his time. He’d joined the Prytis Accords Foundation specifically to work with the Kurtzen. Their first cousin, once removed, Elfie Ralter, was the director of the Foundation and had arranged for Niall to work on the reservation.

“Anything I need to know before we go in there?” Shenandoah asked as they headed for the reservation administration building.

“We make it a point not to bring an agenda, but to ask what they need,” Niall said. “Prior to the Neo-Sith War, there was a paternalistic attitude from Humans towards Kurtzen, even if relations between the two were harmonious.”

“So they tell us what they want to do and we help them figure out how to make that happen?”

“Kind of. We bring expertise to set up organizations or structures that they then take over and connect them with groups with similar goals. The simplest way to put it is we’re facilitators and connectors,” Niall said.

“We know people and how to do stuff,” Shenandoah said, one eyebrow arching over the frames of her sunglasses.

Her brother rolled his eyes. “Please, make my job sound even less impressive.”

Niall introduced his twin to most of the tribal administration staff who managed things on the reservation. The Bakuran government had granted the Kurtzen limited sovereignty on their lands prior to the Neo-Sith War and those laws had remained on the books even after the Kurtzen were believed to be extinct. Shenandoah committed each name and face to memory. The white-skinned, hairless humanoids greeted her warmly. Shenandoah expected the friendly welcome was a result of drafting off Niall’s time charm his coworkers.

Eventually she met Taoiseach Myron Jonazz, the leader of the tribe. “It is a pleasure to meet the last member of the Trieste-Dormingale family,” Jonazz said, clasping Shenandoah’s hands. “I have heard much about you from all of your relations. Your mother always focused on business, but even she made time to brag about you.”

“You’re too kind, Taoiseach,” Shenandoah said, blushing nearly as red as her hair at the effusive praise.

“Hardly. As a friend of your father’s I watched your campaign on his behalf with great interest. You should have stopped by when you passed through on your walkabout. My brothers and sisters who met you then left with a favorable impression.” Jonazz paused and smiled. “It made my job easier persuading the tribe to vote for your father when the election came around to stand on the groundwork you’d laid.”

“We needed every vote, so thank you.”

“That’s why I asked your brother to facilitate this meeting. I’m sure you have many beings who want your time and talents, so I’ll get right to the point. Your campaign for your father was impressive. I want you to do it again.”

Pieces in Shenandoah’s mind clicked into place instantly. “You want to run candidates in the county elections next year.”

“My people have been on Bakura for over three decades. There is a generation in their prime who have only known this planet as their home. I am thankful for that.” A cloud passed briefly over the knobby brow of the chief at the memory of where he had been born and the struggles they had endured. “They increasingly want to be part of Bakuran civil society. In this, I am their ally.

“Unfortuantely, I know full well the uphill road they are going to face. Bakura is a Human planet and while most do not wish us ill, they will not react well to us leaving the limits of the reservation. Out of sight, out of mind.” Myron leaned forward, placing his forearms against his desk. “My people need to feel like they have a stake in Bakura or those who are ambitious will become restless. They want more than seats on the tribal council and they’re right to hold greater ambitions. They are as Bakuran as you.”

“If not more so,” Shenandoah agreed. “What did you have in mind?” She had ideas, but remembered Niall’s advice.

“I want Kurtzen candidates in every supervisor district that covers reservation land. Not just this rez and county, all of them. The other taoiseachs are on board with the project.”

“Most of the reservations fall in multiple districts,” Niall added. “Here in Yenshay, it’s at best due to laziness as district lines have been only tweaked since the reservations were established. At worst it’s gerrymandering through inaction, splitting the Kurtzen vote across districts. Complete disregard for the communities of interest the reservations represent.”

“As it stands, there’s no district where Kurtzen constitute a majority. We’ll need votes from off the rez to win any seat,” Jonazz added. “The odds are stacked against us, which is why we need someone who’s already beaten the odds once.”

The Kurtzen stood. “I must be honest with you. The Kurtzen owe your family a great deal. Your aunt not only found us and returned us to Bakura, but she created the Foundation to help us. Your father and mother were our most steadfast allies in Salis D’aar. They promised us that they would always support us and they always did, even when they could not deliver. I cannot say the same of their former colleagues who continue in government. Your brother more or less lives with us now. Already you have given us so much.

“I imagine that every ambitious politician on Bakura wants you to run their campaign and are willing to pay you handsomely to do so. I cannot. I have only my belief, one I care in the core of my heart, that it is time for Kurtzen to once again be part of the future of this planet, our homeworld.

“I think you can make that happen and so I ask, knowing full well the answer is probably no. But I must ask.”

Shenandoah nodded and pursed her lips. Niall knew his twin well enough to know she was thinking things over.

“Can you give me two weeks?” she finally asked.

“Of course. Like I said, I understand if you have other meetings,” Jonazz assented.

“I’ll be back then,” Shenandoah said, standing, extending her hand.

When the twins were walking out of the administration office, Niall said, “Do you have a plan?”

“Just some avenues of inquiry.” She opened the door to the speeder. “I need to get back to Salis D’aar.”

---

Two weeks later

Niall and Shenandoah returned to Myron’s office. Before the taoiseach could say anything, Shenandoah said, “Niall tells me that he doesn’t come in here and tell you what you should do.”

“But you’d like to tell me what you think I should do?” Jonazz said with a hint of amusement.

“Run for all the supervisor seats you want,” Shenandoah stated, “but if you run for anything, it needs to be for governor.”

Jonazz’s knobbed forehead crinkled. “Go on.”

 

Been a while since we've seen the Kurtzen. Yes, they should be represented fairly in Bakuran government. I'd vote for them.

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn

Coruscant

Many Galactic Senators had titles like Foreign Minister, Secretary of State, and Ambassador on their resume. Most of them wanted to be on the Senate’s Committee on Foreign Affairs. It was the sort of assignment a freshman senator didn’t often get. Most of the time you needed a more senior senator of your bloc to vacate a seat. It could be a long wait.

Then again, most senators hadn’t regularly participated in meetings of the D13. Solidarity’s leaders decided that Declan Trieste would give their bloc a prominent voice through his experience.

They couldn’t have been more surprised when Declan turned down their offer.

When Kerry heard through Gavin, she called her son to see what he was up to. “Foreign Affairs one of the most visible committees. It gets in the HoloNet all of the time,” she pointed out, her holographic image clearly displeased. “Some of your colleagues would have killed to get that assignment. A few of them likely already have.”

“I learned too well from your chancellery,” Declan said. “Foreign affairs power is firmly seated in the Supreme Chancellor. Foreign Affairs is lots of flash, no substance.”

“So what did you get instead?”

“Justice.”

“A thankless job,” Kerry remarked.

“It’s a legislation-heavy committee, which presents opportunites. Every senator needs something from them eventually,” Declan said. “Not like they need Appropriations, but when they need External Trade, they need them.”

“I can see you have things in hand,” the former Chancellor observed, deciding she didn’t need to say anything else.

“I have a plan,” Declan confirmed calmly.

---

Yenshay County, Bakura

“I have a plan,” Shenandoah told Myron Jonazz, “and it includes you running for governor of Yenshay.”

“Talk it out,” Jonazz instructed.

“Yenshay has a high Kurtzen population, but, as Niall pointed out, it’s dispersed across several districts. It will be difficult for a Kurtzen candidate to garner the majority needed to win a supervisor seat. You’d need a broad political coalition of united groups to do so.”

“The easiest way to get access to that would be to ally ourselves to a political party. Fianna Fail would be the most natural home, but as I’ve said they’ve been less than supportive of our agenda in the last two years,” Jonazz said.

“I looked at the elections data. There’s a healthy 60% majority for Fianna Fail on the reservations, potentially higher if you boosted turnout. It’s a solid bloc, but not one that’s been able to deliver the margin of victory to the party in county elections. This is still Unionist country,” Shenandoah said, “and that’s your opportunity.”

“If we’re not going to put them over the top, I fail to see the opportunity,” Myron said, somewhat perplexed.

“The opportunity is that you take it away from Fianna Fail. Form your own party: the Kishh’daar National Party. Create a platform that focuses on Kurtzen needs. You’ll can tailor it to what your tribes need. You can expand it to bring in a few other constituencies.

“You’ll have a solid shot at winning the governor’s mansion. Even if you don’t, Fianna Fail will post record low numbers. They might even come in behind the KNP in some races.”

“That will hardly endear us to the county leadership,” Jonazz said.

“But the leaders who have ignored the Kurtzen will lose their jobs on the back of such a failure and the new ones will know that they can’t take you for granted. You’ll have Fianna Fail wooing the Kurtzen vote in 304 and 306 like a smitten teenager,” Shenandoah said.

“And how does my run for governor come into play?” Myron said.

“Since that election cuts across county lines, the voting power of the reservations aren’t diluted. You’ve got a better shot at countywide elections than at the level of legislative districts. By pulling in some Unionist Kurtzen, you’ll be competitive. It’ll be further proof of your political power. If you get the right breaks, you’ll be the next governor of Yenshay.”

Jonazz sat back. “This isn’t a foolproof plan, but I see how it could work. And it’s not too far off from what your father did, just on a larger scale.”

Shenandoah smiled. “Go with what you know, right?”

“Well, I think we—”

“If I may.”

Shenandoah and Myron turned to look at Niall, who had issued the quiet interruption. Myron indicated for him to proceed while his sister tilted her head, unsure where he was going.

“Myron is right. This is what you did with Dad and that’s the problem. They’ll turn on the party machine to prevent it from happening again. That fear that they’ll become completely irrelevant? It’ll make the county leadership come after you with everything they’ve got.” He pushed off from the credenza he’d been leaning against. “And that’s your opportunity.”

Shenandoah started to say something, but Myron preempted her. “Go on.”

“You don’t need a new party. You just need to threaten to form one. Use it as leverage to get the county leadership to back some of your candidates for the Board of Supervisors. You won’t get all of them, but the ones you do will have more support than you could generate with just Kurtzen voters. Similarly, negotiate for some of the countywide offices. I’d recommend Attorney General. Lieutenant Governor would be high visibility, but doesn’t have much power. County Treasurer could be useful too.”

“And give up on governor?” Shenandoah objected.

“It’s a stretch in a plurality vote.” Niall shook his head. “The odds are better if you integrate into Fianna Fail, but use your voting power to demand a Kurtzen-friendly platform. Use the numbers to show them they need your support—and it doesn’t come free. Tell them that you can flip some Unionist votes on the reservation with a strong Kurtzen platform.”

“There’s a real shot at the governor’s mansion if you form your own party,” Shenandoah insisted.

“There is, but what good is a Kurtzen governor who won’t have a single member of their party on the Board of Supervisors? They won’t get anything done,” Niall reasoned. “Get the first Kurtzen into the capitol now and use them as a beachhead. Once they’re at the table, the reservations will have a voice. Once they have a voice, they can influence policy.”

Before Shenandoah could reply, Jonazz stepped in. “And I’d run for Attorney General? I’m not a lawyer.”

“You’re more valuable here, organizing the community. That’s the key. You need an independent operation that delivers votes. Don’t integrate into Fianna Fail, because that takes your power away.” Niall spoke calmly, but Shenandoah knew him well enough to know he had a vision in his mind. “There are attorneys on the reservations, ones who want greater Kurtzen political power. There’ll be a good candidate from among them.”

“This could take a decade to bear fruit,” Shenandoah objected.

“And when it does, there will be an entire political infrastructure to support it,” Niall parried, “and that’s what’s going to create real change, lasting policy that will help the reservations.”

“This is excellent. A perfect team,” Myron said with a smile. “Of course. You’re twins. You fit together perfectly.”

“It’s an interesting plan,” Shenandoah admitted, “but I don’t know if I can execute it.”

“You won’t have to,” Niall said. “That’ll be my job.”

“Like I said, a perfect fit.” The taoiseach stood and extended his hands to each. “Let’s seal this partnership.”

Each Trieste took one hand and shook it—one more enthusiastically than the other.

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn

Yenshay County, Bakura

“What the kriff was that?” Shenandoah demanded when they got to the speeder.

Niall’s thick eyebrows knit in confusion. “Sorry?”

“You completely undermined me in there!” Shenandoah accused her brother. “I ran the numbers. They can win the governorship in a three-way race! Think about the statement that would make, to the entire planet, what that would mean, how much good he could do for the Kurtzen once he got there. And you want to, what, put them on a ten-year plan?”

Niall’s brow furrowed further. “Weren’t you listening? Yeah, maybe Myron becomes governor, but what is he going to do without a constituency in the capital behind him? He’ll just make both parties mad. They won’t work with him on anything. It could even make things worse for the Kurtzen. All symbolism, no real progress.”

“You don’t know that! Fianna Fail backed Dad once he made it to the runoff.”

“No they didn’t.”

“They didn’t tell their voters to stay home,” Shenandoah clarified. “That was as good as an endorsement.”

“And there’s nobody on Coruscant who’s mad at Dad. It’s not the same thing. Besides, he may not even get reelected,” Niall countered. “What you pulled off was a miracle, Doe, but it’s not going to work here.”

“Fine! I thought we could do this together, but I’ll go work with one of the dozen candidates who keep calling me,” Shenandoah huffed. She tried to open the speeder door, but it was locked. She kept punching the door control anyways.

“Doe, this isn’t an either/or thing,” Niall said.

“Of course it is. He went with your idea. Go build your Kurtzen turnout machine or whatever it is you’re going to do.” Shenandoah jammed the door controls in vain. “Clearly you don’t think I can win here.”

Niall slammed the speeder roof with an open hand. The sharp thud caused Shenandoah to stop trying to open the door.

“Did I say that?” Niall asked, an angry edge in his voice.

Shenandoah didn’t pause before responding, even though she knew her brother well enough to know she should. “You might as well have.”

Niall walked around the speeder to Shenandoah’s side. “You’re right! You can’t win here, not the way you did with Dad. Not if you want to change things for these beings.” He was standing in front of her now. “You did something incredible with Dad, but this just isn’t the same game, Doe. They need an organization, one that goes beyond a candidate, one that’s going to last for years. I’m talking about enduring political power. I started working for Aunt Elfie so I could learn how to build something like that, something that would give these beings a voice in decisions that affect them. I think I can do it.”

“Then take me to the spaceport so you can get on with it,” Shenandoah told him.

“But I can’t inspire them like you can,” Niall finished.

That stopped his sister from delivering her next retort. Instead she said, “What?”

“That’s what you did with Dad. You made voters believe in him. I meant it when I said what you did was a miracle. You inspired beings to vote for someone when they didn’t even know if he’d take the office. I can’t do that. I know I can put together an organization, build an institution, one that will make things happen. But no one’s going to join it if beings don’t believe it will mean anything.

“I need you to help them see what it’s capable of, Doe,” Niall said. “Otherwise they’re not going to win a thing.”

“So what? We’re going to be another version of Mom and Dad?” Shenandoah asked. “One of us is the strategist, the other the orator.”

“Kind of. I don’t want to run for office, but I know what I’m good at and I know what you’re good at,” Niall stated, “and we’re both pretty bad at the other things. It’s how we win. Also, I think we kind of let Myron think that’s what’s happening and I’m not going to be the one to explain it to him if that’s wrong.”

“OK,” Shenandoah agreed. It came quicker than Niall expected. “We’ll do it together. What’s first?”

“First is you’ve got to get your things from the Plaza. By the time you’re back, I’ll have a room for you here on the rez,” Niall said, finally unlocking the speeder doors for the both of them. “Once you’re settled, there are a lot of beings you’ll need to meet if this is going to work.”

“You’re going to need to stay there with me for a few days,” Shenandoah informed him before she got in the speeder.

“Why?”

“Because there’s something Dad isn’t telling us,” she said, “and I get the impression we can’t start this without knowing what it is.”

 

Hi there, I am still around and followed with my mobile phone. Especially during lunch breaks at the kindergarten or while using public transport. But to log in with the small screen is always painful to do.

Today I am writing a wee comment to say thanks. You are a wonderful author, when it comes to political intrigues, family affairs and world building. It´s always a pleasure reading your updates!!!

 

Glad to hear it brings something good into your day! It's always flattering to hear my writing brings some small enjoyment to others.

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn

Hapes

Sierra sat in council with her ministers. Unlike the Royal Court, these beings served at her pleasure. That didn’t mean they were all loyal. Sierra knew Dariah Morningstar wasn’t the only one here who would welcome a new Queen Mother.

In that regard, it was a typical day in the office for the monarch of the Consortium.

“Have all the groups reached an agreement?” Sierra asked.

Foreign Minister Babitte Sidse nodded. “Trade closed late last night,” she reported. “With the existing agreements from the Cultural Exchange, Infrastructure, and Diplomatic Principles groups, we now have an agreement in detail.” It was a major win for the Foreign Minister to bring the Centran-Hapan negotiations over the finish line after weeks of work.

“My office has reviewed the Trade group agreement,” Morningstar spoke up.

“I doubt it. I haven’t even read it all yet,” Sidse interjected. For someone who had been a civil servant, albeit a senior one, she had found her voice in council where noble appointees were the rule.

Dariah didn’t pay Sidse any mind. “The concessions are unacceptable. Insulting even.” She dropped her datapad on the thick table to punctuate her point.

“They are realistic. The Centrality may be larger in area than the Consortium, but they are nowhere near as wealthy,” Sidse countered. “Contributing to their economic development will stabilize the region and Heraat rule. That is good for the legitimacy of female monarchy, not to mention peace. Prosperity will shore up Carley’s reign.”

“You’re asking private industry to subsidize Centran development.” Morningstar said, looking straight at Sierra.

“The Centrality is not our fiefdom,” Sierra said calmly. “They are a sovereign nation with interests. No one leaves a negotiation of powers completely happy.”

“They are not our equals. Their concessions should be greater,” the Interior Minister stated. This didn’t surprise the Queen Mother. Sierra already knew she was an ally of Morningstar’s.

“The negotiators have closed their deal. The conversation is likewise closed,” Sierra ruled. “What else?” This last piece was directed at Sidse.

“The Diplomatic Principles group did not agree on where the pact was to be signed,” Sidse said. “There is a good argument for signing on Erlinar as this is more about the development of the Centrality, but it projects a power imbalance. Signing here makes it look like the Centrality are supplicants to Hapan power. It’s bad optics for Carley.”

“A neutral location then,” the Treasury Minister suggested.

“Any place with enough gravitas is too attached to the other great powers,” the Home Minister said with a shake of her head. “It makes it look like a third party was involved, diminishing both us and the Centrality.”

“Midway between the two polities?” the Treasury Minister tried. “Where’s that.”

“We’ve looked at it,” Sidse said. “It’s Bimmisaari.”

The table groaned. Everyone knew that the optics of being surrounded by 1-meter-tall humanoids was going to look even worse than any of the other ideas already presented.

“The answer, as usual, is the simplest one before us,” Sierra informed them. “We do it at a place both Carley and I will be at, one that bestows the occasion with significance, but one born of the moment, not historical associations.”

“And that would be?” Dariah Morningstar asked with a mix of caution and curiosity.

Sierra Chume smiled. Though she faced forward, she spoke over her shoulder. “Zena, where am I going to be in three weeks?”

Zena Atelier, the Queen Mother’s Social Secretary, didn’t need to refer to the monarch’s calendar to answer that question.

“An excellent choice, Your Majesty,” Minister Sidse said. “The eyes of the galaxy will be upon you both.”

Sierra nodded once, closing the council. She did not need words. Her manner and bearing all said, Yes, I know, well enough.

 

Go Centrality, go Hapes! Great stuff here!

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn

Salis D’aar, Bakura

Being elected Galactic Senator had drawn Declan out from his seclusion—at least compared to his previous hermit existence. He now attended Bakura Miner games regularly, though he had not taken back duties as Chairman back from Regan. It seemed to be the one pleasure he allowed himself outside his work.

With most of his time spent on Coruscant, he did not keep his own residence on Bakura. Instead, he stayed on the top floor of the Plaza when he was in town. With only two of its seven floors taken up by the Eldreds and Penns, he had more than enough privacy. Shenandoah flitted in and out, but her impending move to Yenshay would soon end her sporadic residence.

The Plaza suited Declan’s needs. He spent most of his time reading briefs his office prepared on bills before the Committee on Justice. It was a heavy workload, but he plowed through it. The remainder of his time was spent reviewing other legislation coming to the floor of the Senate.

This routine experienced one of its few interruptions when his children asked to see him. Declan gladly set aside his work to oblige them.

“Niall and I have an idea for a campaign,” Shenandoah began, “but there’s something we need to know first.”

With a motion to proceed from Declan, she explained their plans to create a Kurtzen political organization in Yenshay County. The Galactic Senator listened in contemplative silence.

“It didn’t make sense that you warned me off from the Galactic Senate campaign. It made even less sense that you didn’t run for Prime Minister in 300. You said there were things going on I didn’t know about,” Shenandoah finished. “You’re the Taoiseach. You get to keep secrets. But I’m asking you, for my sake and Niall’s, to tell us if there’s something we should know about.”

Declan remained quiet for a few seconds. “This work with the Kurtzen, this is something you feel strongly about?” he finally asked.

“It is,” Niall said.

“Yes. We have an opportunity to do something really good for them,” Shenandoah echoed.

The Taoiseach of the Noble House thought again in silence before speaking. “Your mother had made a decision, one she never got to announce. It was not going to be popular, including with a faction of Fianna Fail.”

“Phyllida Travers,” Niall stated.

His father didn’t confirm or deny it. “Even after her death, that decision had consequences. I made a deal that smoothed things over.”

“What kind of deal?” Niall asked.

“One that preserved your mother’s legacy and did a great deal of good for Bakura.” Declan’s tone made it clear that was as much detail as the twins would get. “One that came with certain conditions about our family’s involvement with Fianna Fail moving forward.”

“What does that mean?” Shenandoah asked.

Declan didn’t answer, but posed a question of his own. “Are the two of you committed to this work? To the Kurtzen?”

“Yes, absolutely,” Niall said without hesitation.

“Yes,” Shenandoah echoed.

Declan nodded. “Do nothing further until I speak with you again.”

“When will that be?” Niall asked.

“After I’ve had a meeting,” Declan said. “One where I make a new deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Niall asked again.

“The kind that the two of you will have to accept, no matter what,” Declan stated.

 

Declan nodded. “Do nothing further until I speak with you again.”

“When will that be?” Niall asked.

“After I’ve had a meeting,” Declan said. “One where I make a new deal.”

“What kind of deal?” Niall asked again.

“The kind that the two of you will have to accept, no matter what,” Declan stated.

And there was me just thinking Darth Vader made devilish deals with folk within the SW universe. But then again it´s Declan, who is a true master. Of any game...

 

A politician without a party is either a powerful person or one with no power at all. This one might take his wiles to pull out--but if anything motivates him, his children's future would be it.

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn

​

Senate Building, Salis D’aar, Bakura

On the official schedule, the meeting was listed as Republican affairs conference. It was one of two identically titled meetings. The first was with the Deputy Prime Minister and Bakura’s Galactic Senator. It was common for sector representatives on Coruscant to consult with local officials on impending bills, often soliciting their opinions on how to vote. Local politicians could make or break Republican elections by turning out their voters, making alignment between Galactic Senators and local officials important to political survival. Though Declan and the Deputy PM belonged to different parties, they still had a productive discussion.

The second meeting was between the Minority Leader and Bakura’s Galactic Senator. Its stated purpose was the same as the first. Minority Leader Phyllida Travers had not put this meeting on the calendar and she had been in Salis D’aar long enough to know that Declan Trieste was not interested in her views on Coruscanti politics. She knew that he wasn’t interested in the Deputy Prime Minister’s views either.

This meeting was about something else, masquerading as good governance. These days, Minority Leader Travers simply did not have time for this kind of nonsense.

“So what are we really here to talk about?” Travers asked the moment the door slid shut behind Declan.

Declan gave a brief, slow nod, as if to say All right then. “I made a deal with your patron.” Travers’ eyebrows raised in protest. “I assume you don’t have time to dispute what we both know to be true.”

Travers did not deign to reply to the bit about who backed her. “You retire from Bakuran affairs and stay out of the way on Coruscant. In exchange, we let the past be the past.”

“And Yeoh Gawa would have my family out of Fianna Fail forever,” Declan added.

“If they agree to toe the new party line, I’m sure we can find a place for them,” Phyllida said.

Declan barked a laugh. “I wouldn’t if I were you.”

“What a supportive parent you are,” Phyllida said dryly, but with a smile. They both knew that there was too much risk to having anyone with the name Trieste in the party, no matter how loyal they were to the leadership. It would be too easy for others to rally around them to form a faction at odds with the Deputy PM. That was the last thing Gawa and Travers wanted, just as they were consolidating their hold on Fianna Fail.

“I would like to propose an arrangement, one that helps you and one that helps my children,” Declan said.

“One you don’t think Yeoh would like, I take it,” Phyllida stated. “Otherwise you would have just gone back to her.”

“That deal was personal business. Between us. This deal is about the party,” Declan said. “Or are you not the de facto leader of Fianna Fail?”

Phyllida sat back. “Go on.”

“My children would like to work with the Kurtzen, primarily in Yenshay County, on the county elections. They feel that if the reservations have a closer relationship with the county party, they could increase the power of both the tribes and the party in Yenshay,” Declan said. “They would not be working for Fianna Fail. Their role would be solely on the reservation. But their play only works if the two groups work together.

“Neither of them will run for office. After the election, they will hand over the organization to the Kurtzen to run themselves. A one-time effort. Fianna Fail gets a stronger presence in a county where you’re badly outregistered by Unionists, the Kurtzen are more a part of the political discussion. My children get to do something that warms their souls. You look like a more effective leader of the party, one whose base goes beyond the urban centers and puts the Unionists on the defensive. You’ll look good going into 304.”

“And you think Yeoh will be satisfied with this?” Phyllida asked.

“It doesn’t violate any terms of our existing agreement. If this goes well, it increases your standing in the party, making her partnership with you all the more valuable to her,” Declan summarized.

Travers considered this. “Very well. No involvement with the county party, who takes the lead on policy as usual. We welcome increased participation by our Kurtzen siblings in the political life of Bakura.” She extended her hand.

Declan shook it. “Very good. I trust you’ll inform our mutual friend of this arrangement?”

“When I see fit,” Phyllida declared.

Trieste smiled. “I can see this role suits you well.”

“Yes, doesn’t it?” Travers replied, dismissing her guest. She had work to do, after all.

 

Declan is up to something and I for one am eager to see what that something is! Great piece!

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 with special thanks to @Vehn for his collaboration. If you like this look into the Centrality, check out The Winds of Erlinar.

​

Jaminere, Tion Hegemony

The queens sat side by side in well upholstered chairs, the mountain backdrop of the Tion Hegemony’s leading planet providing grandeur to the moment. Unlike males, they did not need to stand and puff out their chests to look powerful for the media in attendance today.

“Today we stride forward into the future, one that finds strength in unity,” Queen Mother Sierra Chume stated. “The Hapes Consortium and Centrality clasp hands in not just partnership, but friendship. The Queendom Pact we sign today will build Centran economy after years of strife and encourage Hapan prosperity.”

Queen Carley Heraat nodded in agreement as Queen Mother Sierra Chume explained and defended the reasoning behind the Queendom Pact. "The Centrality has only recently known an uneasy peace. A peace that is built upon the mutual cooperation of all Centran worlds. Nobles near and far joined under my banner to end a war that last fifty years. With this agreement, and the generosity of the Queen Mother, Hapes is helping rebuild the Centrality brick by brick. No longer will Centran citizens go without food, water, and power. I promise my citizens and those abroad who wish to return home that the Centrality is on a new path. A path of prosperity and growth. Gone are the days of war and strife. We have a long, hard, road ahead but I am confident we can be the generation that makes history. We already are that generation. Now it is on us to charge forward into a future greater than any we can imagine."

“Consortium engineers will make this happen now, building this infrastructure with Centran laborers. While we agree this work would be better done by Centrans, the Centrality does not have the luxury of waiting decades to train its own professionals to do this work. Hapes extends this helping hand as part of the friendship between our realms,” Sierra said. “In keeping with the spirit of friendship of this agreement, they will do so at negotiated rates that respect Centran sovereignty.

“If we just came in, built, and left with our credits, we would be no better than the Lorell Raiders who founded the Consortium. We must build with, not for, the Centrality. To develop a generation of Centrans who can maintain and expand these works, the Consortium will offer Centran citizens preferred admission to our universities, on par with Consortium citizens. This will train a new generation of Centran professionals dedicated to the prosperity of peace, not the fortunes of war.”

"War is all we know. War is not enough to help us grow and prosper. It is long past time that a Centran middle class is lifted from the ashes and ruin of generational poverty. Not only will Centran citizens have access to Hapan universities but it is my solemn vow that Centran citizens will be able to receive quality education at home that is on par with other prominent universities around the region. Therefore through this pact I shall be able to set aside money to help our citizens with tuition so they do not have to bear the cost of higher education alone. The question before this generation is not what socio-economic class you came from but what did you contribute during your lifetime? The long term benefits of the Queendom Pact will see a shift from the Centrality of the old to a new kind of Centran citizen. One that no longer needs the shackles of fiefdom and indentured servitude but strives to make their mark on the galaxy and their home planet through education and intelligence. Today marks the first day of the new era. An era for the new Centran citizen. The middle class."

“These interstellar exchange students will also deepen the cultural ties between our nations. We have much to learn from the experiences of the other. Hapes has enjoyed millennia of stability that created our current prosperity, but we remain more isolated than most planets. The Centrality has born the bruises of war and division, but have found resolve and strength through survival. As important as it for those of us at the top to meet as Queen Carley and we have, real understanding comes from deep, broad exchange at every level of society,” Sierra said. “We are confident that our citizens will find the experience as transformative as we did.”

"The Centrality shall, effective immediately, allow free transit to Hapes through expedited immigrant visas. Go, explore, learn, and bring back what you have learned to build a better Centrality. A more educated Centrality. In addition," Queen Carley paused as she looked over at the Queen Mother before continuing, "it is my great pleasure to announce an arms treaty between our two great powers. Technological exchange, after all, is not just a civilian pursuit but a military one as well. It is time for our military to have the necessary equipment to defend our great lands from enemies both foreign and domestic. A secure and safe Centrality benefits all. Centrality today, Centrality tomorrow, Centrality forever."

The Queen Mother gave Carley the last word. They rose from their chairs to the heavy, ornate table where the pact awaited their signatures. Without fanfare, each affixed their hand and seals to a copy, exchanging them before repeating the process.

They rose to applause of those assembled. The pair clasped hands, four in all, their bodies turned so they could smile for the cameras that memorialized the moment. This was an achievement that was theirs. No man could, or would, claim it.

Sierra had a new ally, one who would send Centrans, male and female, into the Consortium with new ideas, ones that could make Hapes a more equal society, one that would not discard half its populations’ potential.

Queen Carley Heraat knew that this agreement was the first and most important step toward making her government, her monarchy, legitimate. It was bigger than joining the D13. This was statehood at its finest and she knew in her heart of hearts that she had made the Centrality stronger today as a result.

The path the Centrality had seemed destined to follow for the last half century was obliterated with the signing of the Queendom Pact. Now the Centrality had gained access to the powerful defensive technology that was native to the Hapes Consortium, a road map toward establishing a strong middle class for Centran citizens, and lastly the necessary tools to forge a new path of peace and prosperity.

So much work to be done and so little time, Queen Carley Heraat thought as she smiled and waved at the press and those in attendance.

For now, in this moment, her relationship with Hapes was enough.

 

Was so fun thanks!! Also love the song pick! Here's to Hapes/Centran friendship for a long time!

 

Very good Hapan chapter! Simply loved it.

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn (and I think @Bardan_Jusik will like a couple of bits in here), this one is dedicated to a very good boy.

Redwood Creek, Bakura

Kerry Trieste was girt for battle. Though the GCAA limmie championship had treated her Bak10 Conference well a few years back, this year’s rankings had shut them out of the playoffs entirely. It was an ignominious distinction. The system was based on HoloNet Sports Network’s ranking system, which had its problems. In fact, this season’s rankings had plenty that provided Kerry with ample grist to criticize the system.

Privately, Kerry admitted that sometimes her indignation it was a show. Bakura loved their partisan defender of their hometown, single-world conference. It was because of advocacy like hers that the galaxy thought of Bakura as a galactic player. With only approximately 80 million residents, it barely rated compared to Core Worlds and even some Outer Rim planets. When someone like Kerry got on the HoloNet and talked about “Core World bias” in sports, it made Bakurans feel good about their place in the galaxy. That was what sports were for, in the end. You felt part of something larger than yourself, if only for a little while.

She was scheduled to appear on one of HSN’s flagship shows in a few hours to excoriate that network’s rankings. HSN was happy to take her attacks. They’d been promoting Kerry as a guest for a few days and expected a good ratings bump as a result. She wouldn’t be surprised if they’d negotiated ad sales specifically for her time slot knowing that beings would tune in for the controversy.

Kerry went into her living room to find her datapad so she could prepare with some last-minute statistics and facts on her way to the Bak10 offices where she’d broadcast via holo link. The device was exactly where she expected to find it, but she stopped before she reached the side table.

Standing in the middle of the room, head cocked to one side with a look of confusion, was her dog, an auburn setter whose graying muzzle reflected its age. Kerry gave a short whistle. The dog didn’t respond.

He always responded. That was when she knew things were terribly wrong.

Kerry got onto her knees and cradled the dog. “Let’s just lay down,” she said, stroking his silky red coat as she gently eased him to the carpet. She petted his head, which he always liked, and listened to his heavy breathing, coming in single, spaced bursts.

Kerry Wyvern Trieste had seen a lot of death. She’d stood at her father’s bedside when he died. She’d held her husband as his life left him. She’d seen a head of state shot before her eyes. She’d walked behind the coffin of the mother of her grandchildren.

“You’re a good boy,” she said, her voice tight and choked.

She cried more for her dog in the hour it took him to die than she had for all of those other beings combined.

When it was over, she changed into a work jumpsuit she kept in the back of her closet. She’d miss her interview and hadn’t even thought to cancel. (When her Senatorial guard realized what was happening, they had taken care of that without bothering her.) Instead, she found a patch of dirt in her garden overlooking the sweep of the bay and Cape Suzette in the distance. Kerry dug a hole to bury her dog, silently accepting help from one of the Senatorial guards who wordlessly joined in with a shovel he’d borrowed from a neighbor.

When it was done, she leaned against the handle of her shovel. She wiped a forearm against her forehead to mop up the sweat, streaking dirt against her face in the process. “Would you like to say anything?” Kerry asked the guard.

“Ma’am?”

“You and the rest of the team were always a friend to him.”

“He was a good dog,” the guard said. It was all he could think of that felt appropriate. Anything else was insufficient a memorial.

“A very good dog,” Kerry echoed as she looked at the mound of dirt that covered her friend.

“Get the detail while I change. We’re going to the pub. Even a dog deserves a wake,” Kerry said.

She had never been more certain of anything else in her life.

---

Yenshay County, Bakura

Niall and Shenandoah worked out of a closet in the tribal administration building. It was all the tribe could spare, let alone afford. There were too many other programs that needed funding on the reservation. While electing Kurtzen to county office could result in policy changes that would increase that funding, diverting resources today for the chance of a better future wasn’t a risk the tribe could take.

Myron had introduced the twins to some Kurtzen who were interested in helping in their spare time. They formed the vanguard of the organization Shenandoah and Niall were creating, the Association for the Advancement of the Kurtzen. Every time they heard of an event on the reservation—whether it was a tribe-wide meeting or a school bake sale—the Humans would jump in Shenandoah’s speeder that had already logged tens of thousands of kilometers across Bakura with one of their Kurtzen volunteers and head out.

When they arrived, their Kurtzen partner would introduce Niall and Shenandoah to other Kurtzen and explain why they were there. Shenandoah would deliver the pitch.

“For the first time since the Kurtzen returned to Bakura, a major political party is supporting Kurtzen candidates for office, including County Controller,” Shenandoah explained. “The AAK is organizing support for these candidates. These candidates are staking their campaigns on issues that are important to the reservation, but the AAK is looking forward to the future, to advancing legislation that will improve the lives of Kurtzen in meaningful ways not just now, but years from now. It’s made up of ordinary Kurtzen who are organizing to help their neighbors and every being who joins makes it stronger. This is action for Kurtzen, by Kurtzen.”

When someone was interested, whether it was volunteering or wanting to be on their comms list, Niall took their information and explained what came next, how they could help, what small things they could do that collectively would make their voices heard.

Day by day, night by night, room by room, being by being, the Trieste twins were painstakingly and slowly building an organization, one that would help the Kurtzen understand how the laws in the capital affected them—and, more importantly, what they could do about it.

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 and @Vehn who inadvertently (or perhaps intentionally) inspired this post.

Hyparamis, Hapes Consortium

Darriah Morningstar was not happy.

She’d had it almost in her hands: an arms deal with Erik Frohm that would have made hundreds of millions of credits. The Centrality was going to give the Morningstar family not just wealth, but generational wealth. The kind of credits that would make Darriah’s great-granddaughters some of the most prominent Hapans of their generation. Maybe even future Queen Mothers. The House of Morningstar.

And Sierra Chume had taken it all away.

Darriah appreciated the genius of the Queen Mother’s strategy. The Queendom Pact was a brilliant piece of maneuvering. Sierra hadn’t stopped the arms sale—she’d just stopped Darriah from becoming wealthy from it. Once the export and corporate taxes were paid, there was only the most modest of margins left for Consortium Drive Systems and Darriah. They’d make enough that Darriah couldn’t complain CDS wouldn’t make money, but it was a ghost of what she’d been in line to bring in.

The worst part was that Darriah couldn’t say a thing about it in public. She was Minister of Defense. She was not entitled to political opinions that ran contrary to the crown. That wasn’t technically true—but those opinions would be classified as near (if not actual) treason. Darriah would lose more than her position for speaking them aloud.

That was why she had withdrawn to Hyparamis. She couldn’t stand to be on Hapes right now, in the midst of the House of Trieste triumphalism. Sierra Chume was literally the toast of the capital, more so than the average monarch. “To the Queen Mother, who opened the Centrality to the Consortium,” was on the lips of every noble, whether or not they meant it.

Darriah didn’t have it in her to smile and pretend. She would lick her wounds while she watched and waited. Sierra Chume would leave an opening again in due course. And if she didn’t, her daughter certainly would. Corrine had already proved she was reckless with what she’d pulled with the Ervenias. Corrine had made her point, but she’d exposed herself in the process. She would again one day.

It was in the middle of sulking that Darriah received a call from her son Amenadiel.

“Yes?” she asked wearily. Just when she just wanted to be alone one of her sons would intrude. It was incredibly typical of them.

“Mom, you need to get us out of here. Send in the Fleet, hire a charter, whatever. Just get us out of here,” Amenadiel said, his holographic face concerned. He looked over his shoulder as if the threat was imminent.

“What’s going on?” Darriah asked, slightly sharper.

“It’s Carley. She arrested Sophia’s father and her eldest sister. They’re saying they’ve both been killed. They’re coming for us next. We need to get to the Consortium,” Amenadiel said, his wording running into each other.

The Minister of Defense was suddenly sharp and alert. “Carley’s consolidating her power?”

“Yes! Didn’t you hear the first time? She’s cleaning house. We have to get out of here before us.”

Darriah’s mind was moving fast now. “No.”

“What?!” Amenadiel screeched.

“If Carley wanted you dead, she would have taken all of you at the same time. She hasn’t gotten when she is by making amateur mistakes like that,” Darriah told her son. “Whatever Isabella and Erik were up to, Carley doesn’t think you’re part of it.” She looked her son in her eye. “Under no circumstances are you to leave the Centrality.”

“But—”

“Do nothing. I need to find an attorney in the Centrality.”

“Carley isn’t going to be stopped by a lawsuit!” Amenadiel shouted.

“Calm yourself,” Darriah ordered. “It’s unbecoming of someone of your position.”

“My position is on the chopping block if you don’t get us out of here!”

“No, your position is that you may be the new Lord Frohm for all we know,” Darriah said, cutting off her son’s panic. “Until I know more about how titles pass in the Centrality, you cannot jeopardize your claim by doing anything rash. Go nowhere, do nothing until you hear from me.” She ended the call before Amenadiel could protest further.

If her sons weren’t completely incompetent, they might just hand the Morningstars a way to turn events around.

Sierra and Carley wanted closer Hapan-Centran relations? Good. They were about to get more of it than they bargained for.

 

Political thrillers have never been my preferred genre of reading material, but you write them so well that I hang on every word. It's mesmerizing to me to see these chess pieces moving around on your 3-D chessboard. I firmly believe you could have a lucrative career as a professional novel writer if you really wanted to.

 

I appreciate the vote of confidence. I'm not sure I want to work that hard though! You're constantly living off the advance for your next book, even when you're super successful, and rushing to meet publication deadlines. Sadly it's not a case of, "I'll just lay around and when the mood strikes me I'll write," which is how I approach it now.

 

Sierra and Carley wanted closer Hapan-Centran relations? Good. They were about to get more of it than they bargained for.

Ouch, this will not bode well.

 

@AzureAngel2 @jcgoble3 @Vehn

Yenshay County, Bakura

“Well,” Niall said, lifting his glass to his mouth.

“Yeah,” Shenandoah added, blowing out her breath with the word.

Silence settled again as they sat in the empty election night hall (a kind term for the high school gym they’d commandeered for the night). The Kurtzen who had gathered to watch the election results had long since gone home, leaving limp streamers hanging from the ceiling and placards on the polished floor.

“Am I supposed to say some noncommittal single word?” Niamh stage-whispered to Niall. She’d come out from Salis D’aar for the evening to be with her boyfriend. “Is this a politics thing?”

Niall gave a small shrug. “More of a processing thing.”

Niamh rubbed his arm consolingly. “I’m sorry you didn’t get more.”

“It was a stretch,” Shenandoah admitted. She finished her drink and poured a second one. Or maybe it was a third. She wasn’t counting. The only counting that mattered tonight was of ballots—and that was over and done.

Out of eight candidates for the Yenshay County Board of Supervisors, the Kurtzen had gotten two over the finish line. The other six, plus their candidate for County Treasurer, had all gone down in defeat to Unionist candidates. It had been far from their hopes.

“I thought we’d get at least four,” Shenandoah said as she skimmed the top off her drink.

“Still, this is the first time in almost a hundred years Kurtzen will participate in some level of government on Bakura,” Niamh said. “That’s worth something.”

“It’s symbolic at best,” Shenandoah lamented. “Symbols can have power…but I still feel like we let the Kurtzen down.”

“It’s more than a symbol,” Niall said. His voice was firm, confident. “One would have been a symbol. Two is a beginning.” He finished his drink and put the glass down with a thump that echoed through the gym. “Two we can work with.”

“306 is a long way away,” Shenandoah said skeptically. Four years until the next elections in Yenshay and another shot at getting the Kurtzen into county government.

“I don’t care about 306,” Niall said, standing. He extended a hand to Niamh. “A lot will happen between now and 306.”

“I’ll be a lawyer by 306,” Niamh agreed as she stood, pulling herself up using Niall after a long night.

“We did a good thing here, but in six months the Kurtzen will be running the AAK, just like we planned,” Niall said. “This—” He indicated the gym with a motion of his hand. “—was never what we set out to do.”

“Then why did you spend all this time on the rez?” Shenandoah asked skeptically. “I thought you were here to help the Kurtzen.” She stood, swaying a bit from the alcohol coursing through her body.

“I was and we did,” Niall confirmed, “but it was always in service of something larger.”

“Which was?” Shenandoah asked, raising her eyebrows.

“It’s time we went back to Salis D’aar,” Niall said. “The real work awaits.”

 

There's always an ulterior motive with the Triestes. Looking forward to where this storyline goes next.