Diplomacy Starborn to HGRE - Ahch-To Dispute

[Lyanna Starborn]

Lyanna took the coin, turning it once between her gloved fingers — first the Republic, then the Sith Empire. Her expression did not betray any amusement, only a subtle acknowledgment of the irony. Two broken empires, enshrined in metal. Two failures, worshiped in hindsight.

“This coin is a relic,” she said softly. “A reminder that even the greatest powers of the age were mortal.”

She closed her fist around it. Not in rejection — but in understanding.

“I’ll keep it. Not as a token of patriotism, Admiral, but as a reminder of what must be outgrown.”

Stepping back, her gaze swept over the engineers and unfinished corridors of the station. It was still raw, this place — but it had direction. Purpose. Like her people.

“Our goals align. The Starborn will lend its hand to your hunt — quietly and thoroughly. When your agents are ready to coordinate, my intelligence chief will receive them. The less time Eos has to root himself in shadow, the better.”

She turned to him one last time, silver eyes calm but cutting.

“And as for Zakuul’s past — don’t waste your time fearing it. Repetition is only a curse to those who walk backward.”

With that, Lyanna inclined her head, not deeply, but with the solemnity afforded to equals.

“Walk forward, Admiral Zakur. And if the myth ever falters, we’ll remind the galaxy who still dares to build.”

Then, without another word, she strode for the shuttle — her white cloak trailing like the final note of a hymn.

Tag; @Admiral Zakur

 

[Admiral Zakur]

“Understood, ma’am. We are quite the superstitious people after all. Some of our more traditional leaders fear walking on a path that doubles back on itself. They fear that while it appears we walk forward we may be actually walking in circles.” Zakur stated, more to himself than to her. He paused a little before he had another document handed to Fauste. He raised an eyebrow.


“I should warn you. Watch out for the paparazzi. Our troopers have been stationed to keep your path clear and away from your ship. They will make a wide array of pieces in our alliance. The HGRE doesn’t control what they say but our state owned media sources will promote prosperity.” Zakur warned Fauste with a bit of a nod.


The hangar itself was filled with noise as troopers lined the walkway up to Fauste’s courier ship. A variety of Zakuulian troopers were on the other side of the soldiers with massive, cubed cameras. The soldiers themselves looked very at ease despite being between reporters and Fauste’s party.


The cameras of the different reporters began going off as soon as Fauste and her escort stepped out into the hangar. Despite the large number of people packed along the path it was relatively quiet with the only noise being the more private conversations of the different people.

 

[Lyanna Starborn]

Lyanna accepted the final document with a single nod, tucking it beneath the fold of her cloak without looking at it. Her gaze stayed on Zakur, measured and still.

“Let them write what they will,” she said coolly. “Those who traffic in spectacle often miss the deeper currents. The Starborn do not concern themselves with the surface of things — only the tides beneath.”

Her voice lowered, barely above the hum of the station.

“Still, I appreciate the escort. It’s good to know your people know how to part the sea when needed.”

When she emerged into the hangar, her stride did not change. She walked with purpose, her face a mask of solemn calm — neither dismissive nor theatrical. To the cameras, she would appear exactly as she intended: imperial yet enigmatic, more idea than individual.

Her white cloak shimmered under the lights and flashes, a stark contrast to the utilitarian blacks and greys of the station. She walked as if the attention didn’t exist, flanked by her silent escort, cutting a line of silence and gravity through the crowd.

She paused only once, halfway to the shuttle. Without turning, she spoke loud enough to be caught by the nearer microphones, though her voice was soft.

“Peace is not the absence of war. It is the mastery of its necessity.”

Then she moved again — ascending the ramp of her courier ship with silent grace. The hatch closed behind her, and Lyanna Fauste was gone, leaving only the myth the cameras would spin.

Tag; @Admiral Zakur

 

[Admiral Zakur]

Zakur watched as Fauste’s ship departed from the bridge of his ship. Imperial fighters performed an air show with aerobatic smoke in the air as Fauste returned to her temple. Zakur raised an eyebrow out of curiosity as he eyed. A figure cloaked in a full white robe stepped forward towards him from the communications array, pulling the hood away from his head.


“I have informed the Grand Master of the recent alliance with the Star born sect. He has sent his approval. He also sends word that construction of our underwater bases should begin immediately.” The figure states with a salute to him. He raised an eyebrow out of curiosity.


“Noted. Why did the Grand Master seem so….enthusiastic about this? With his previous statements I’d have thought he’d have wanted to keep the Starborn sect at an arm's length.” Zakur spoke bluntly. The figure raised an eyebrow and shot him a look.


“The Grand Master states that the force known as the Starborn Sect have been deemed essential.” The figure stated bluntly. Zakur grumbled angrily to himself as he got a non-response. He furrowed his eyebrow before turning to the figure and pulling a salute. The figure turned to face Zakur, bowed, and returned to the communication chamber.