- Joined
- Dec 24, 2017
- Messages
- 543
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- 758
There was much conversation as the Humble Representative of Boz Pity, the Most Humble and Most Gracious Hickey Robthama, presented a proposal that brought together the arguments of both sides. He presented to the room, and the Galaxy at large, what peace could look like for the Galaxy and almost immediately there was arguing about it. The price of peace was high, everyone knew it, but it seemed that some of the politicians here were unwilling to put their hand in their pocket to help pay for it.
Some, such as the senators of the FWA, didn't even seem to want to acknowledge reality as it was seen by those outside of their borders. A point that Hickey was quick to jump on alongside the Sith representatives - he was on Galactic holonet and he had to maximize his minutes after all.
"Senators of the FWA - surely you can stop trying to hide behind politically savvy word play, hmm? The Jedi and the FWA may be politically separate but barely a day goes by without a joint military measure between you two. Defensive? Ah now that may, perhaps, be explained by the nomadic and 'charitable' nature of the Jedi. But on your offenses?" he clicked his tongue, "No, sir and madam, I believe that is rather beyond merely charitable monks. The good Grandmaster of the Jedi is even more accepting of your special relationship - and we thank her for being accommodating in decreasing her arms."
Not that Hickey believed a Jedi was ever "not armed". They had Force magic and they had lightsabers - they were never going to be anything but an armed, militant, religious order at best. But it was a step down from the pseudo-crusading forces they seemed to be attempting to foster within space aligned with them.
Across the room, people quietened as they listened to the words of the Professor. Some only gained one thing from her words; dread. The unshakeable feeling that, if history rhymed as she seemed to think it did, then this peace was just another doomed peace before it even began. Of course, some were able to take away different points - about how to make sure that this peace lasted it had to be done in such a way as had not been truly attempted before.
This last comment seemed to make the host of the event, Governor Omah, very pleased indeed. He was not alone in clapping slightly for the Professor's speech but his was, by far, the most enthusiastic of those reacting to the professor's words. Recovering from her earlier embarrassment at being caught on a hot mic, the red-skinned Twi'lek stepped back up to the microphone.
"I am Governor Zir’Sola, of Nixor. While the Grandmaster of the Jedi may question if the Champion and the Representative of New Alderaan have the authority to broker a peace without their Empress present, can we assume that you are authorized to at least bring to her a workable beginning to a peace?" she asked of the Sith, seeking clarification, "If we can agree to the basics of a lasting Peace here, would anyone object to a ceasefire until such a time as the leaders of the sides can come together to ratify the peace?"
To some it may seem like a stop-gap but a ceasefire, in this example, would give all sides time to discuss it amongst themselves and get the agreement and authority to actually finalize a peace; if they didn't already have it. For all she, and the rest of the room knew, the Sith Representatives had the authority of the Empress already behind them.
At the threats of the Hutt, Nor'baal, tensions around the room began to skyrocket and members of the audience seemed to shuffle further away from the Hutt. The translators had enough of a delay that people didn't seem to understand that the Hutt seemed angered by comments made by the Jedi that barely even touched upon the Hutts. Governor Omah's regal features twisted in a snarl.
"Jedi. Hutt. Both of you just... shush. Shush." Governor Omah demanded, holding up a hand for a second as the doors opened once more to admit the returned protocol droids, accompanied by half a dozen guards, "I think We have heard enough to make an informed decision. And... We are disappointed but We are not surprised. We've known for awhile that bickering is in the nature of all of you - New Republic, Sith, Jedi, FWA, Hutt or ISC? It doesn't matter. You lack the ability to fully, completely, understand each other and because of that? You war. What is war if not the bickering of children incapable of blending in together... unable to Join together."
The Governor had seemed incensed before, but now? Now he was eerily calm as he seemed to stand up straighter and move to the front of the podium. Protocol droids began to filter into the room, presenting drinks to all of the assembled Representatives - drinks that bubbled and hissed and seemed alive in a way that people this side of the Galaxy had never known. Placing his hands near the microphone, he leaned in closer.
"Perhaps the Professor is correct... perhaps what you need is a solution that is out of the tiny little boxes that you call your individual minds." he sighed a little bit and waved a hand to the assembled representatives, pressing a hand against his eyes as though attempting to manage a sudden headache, "Governor Omah believed, once, that a dialogue between two or more people could cause some of them to come to an understanding. A true understanding. But now you have shown him that We were right all along - you need a firm, guiding, hand. You need Us to tell you what to do? We say drink. The time of arguments is over, it is time for you to Join with Us."
His hand fell and he smiled back at the Representatives, his gaze somehow both glazed and somewhat manic.
"This war is over because We do not war with ourselves and you will be Us - one way or another."
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