HoloNet News BREAKING NEWS Cantonica Concordat - Peace for our Time

Vetra

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Hutt-Imperial War Over

Peace Declared



CANTONICA — The Holonet New Network just now has word that peace has been declared between the Hutt Dominion and the Empire. The conflict has lasted a couple months by this point and it has been reported that Hutt proxy forces have engaged in battle with Imperials but have been repelled, then followed by the explosion of the Imperial Czerka HQ and the death of the CEO Julia Hipori. Peacetalks were hosted by the Corporate Sector Authority and mediated by Blackwell Tech Liaison Vetra Solaris, after offering to host a summit while offering neutral ground for negotiations.

The peace agreement between the Hutts and the Empire is been christened the 'Cantonica Concordat' named after the
peace talks that happened in city Canto Bight on the planet Cantonica. In Huttese this deal is known as the 'Pankhopka see Cantonica'. The terms of the Cantonica Concordat has been released to the public.


  • Hutt-Imperial War ends, hostilities stop immediately.
  • Hutt Cartel members, contractors and employees to be allowed unchecked access to all current and future Imperial planets.
  • Hutt Cartel members, contractors and employees to be able to conduct business and invest into all current and future Imperial planets, without restriction or checks.
  • Hutt Cartel members, contractors and employees to be able to move goods, services and more into and around all current and future areas of Imperial Space, whilst not being subject to standard checks by Imperial Security, breaches to be reported to local Hutt 'Lord' for judgment.
  • The trading of slaves cannot be conducted in Imperial Space.
  • Hutt Cartel members, contractors and employees alleged to have carried out murder, kidnapping, assault, and/or theft to be held and tried, by the local Hutt Lord. Sentances and punishment to be decided and carried out by the local Hutt Lord.
  • Hutts cannot conduct war operations in Imperial space.
  • Imperials to retract all letters of marque against the Hutt Cartels assets.
  • All POWs to be returned.


Analysts have spoken regarding the Concordat "This is a very bad deal for the Empire. Very lopsided in favor of the Hutts". Another said "The Empire must have been really weakened after the war with the ISC, the destruction of one of their larger fleets in a 'accident', then taking considerable losses at Dathomir, then losing another considerable amount of losses on Ossus, including Lord-Commander Varyn Atrix and General Max Dram. Although the Empire might have repelled the Hutt Cartel's proxy forces, they must not have had enough 'gas in the tank' to counter attack and push into Hutt space. Either that, or they didn't think they Imperial forces could hold out against the Hutt fleet which has yet to involve itself' the analyst said.

"The Hutts were really lucky to have the negotiations go in their favor. Their proxy forces were repelled if not outright defeated. Although the Hutt fleet and forces are well prepared to defend their home space, I don't think they have the power projection capabilities needed to quickly mobilize and be able to take over and hold the Imperial eastern realm."

We have reached out to the individuals involved in the negotiations for a statement (@Nor'baal @Shalken @Rimrald).





OOC: Open to reactions for all characters
 

Kellan Solari

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“We rid the Empire of the Sith just so we could hand it over to the bleedin’ Hutts?!”

Lieutenant Brax’s face was flushed an angry mauve. His eyes darted from face to face, searching his fellow pilots for a similar vein of outrage. Kellan thought the big man must’ve liked what he had seen because a moment later, he continued on unabated.

“We ran those bastards off Mygeeto and Murkhana and we just open up Imperial Space to ‘em?!”

“In perpetuity.”
Lieutenant Brinks added.

Brax’s face momentarily slackened.

“Forever.” Kellan clarified.

“Right. Right!” He pounded the mess hall’s table with force enough to rattle their dishware. This earned curious glances from a nearby gunnery crew whom Brax offered a sheepish wave. The big man hunched low over the table and continued on in a coarse whisper. “I’d rather be grounded for good than fight on behalf of the Hutts interests. This ain’t the Empire I signed up to fight for.”

“Wouldn’t have happened under Drast’s watch.”
Uthef Geel remarked.

Kellan allowed himself a thoughtful frown. He’d heard the sentiment uttered more than once in the days following the announcement. Indeed, half the crew of the Detente wore their disgust on their faces while the others seemed to sink into a routine of brooding normalcy. The outrage seemed to have crossed rank and station with such ease that the young captain felt it could spell little other than trouble for the Empire. Brax’s face had darkened.

“Bleedin’ moffs will sell off the Empire to avoid anything that might impact their own coffers.” he groused.

“What can you do?” Geel shrugged. Brax’s great bulk slouched further over the table.

“Defect.” he replied flatly.

“That’s dangerous talk, lieutenant.” Kellan said. “I could report you and see you in front of a military tribunal for treason.”

“I don’t buy that, cap. You’re one of us. I know it.”

“Even if that were the case, four lone pilots wouldn’t get far trying to flee the Imperial Navy.”


An expression spread across Brax's face that aped some version of guile. Kellan found the result deeply unsettling.

“What if I told you cap,” he whispered, “we ain’t alone?”
 
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Merian Sere

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“I have no words.”

Knight-Captain Meera Tumi slouched across a cushioned chair in the officers’ lounge, like the announcement had sapped the need for decorum. Even Merian’s usual dignity had taken a blow. She sat at one of the tables, absentmindedly snacking on a bowl of fried calamari. Stress-eating, again.

“I don’t think they realize the danger we’re in.”

“You think?”

“I don’t know.” With the knight-captain’s accent, Merian could hardly tell whether the question was genuine or mocking. “It seems that way.”

Of course, things weren’t always what they seemed with the Empire. Merian couldn’t bring herself to believe the terms of this agreement hadn’t been dissected to the letter. But then what was the alternative? That throwing the entire Empire to the proverbial vask-wolves was somehow part of the ISB’s master plan?

“What’s your name, already?” Meera’s Rs rolled like a dog in the summer grass.

“Merian.”

“You were on Mygeeto, no?”

She nodded. “Nine hundred Gamorrean mercenaries dead or captured.”

“You took casualties?”

“We kept them out.”

“Only for some moof milker in the Senate to open the door wide for them. Silly pigs, they could just have waited.”

“It’s not that.” But she sighed. It was a little bit that. Merian reached for the bowl, found it empty. She wanted more.

“Imperial Czerka was just hit on Raxus,” she continued, “with every security measure in place, the knights’ castle was hit before, and they think giving the Hutts unfettered access won’t end in thousands dead and the war resuming within the month? We won’t even have the infrastructure to fight then.”

“I’m looking forward to the war resuming.” The knight-captain stroked her saber hilt like a pet. “What will you do?”

What would she do. It seemed obvious. Yet when Merian thought on it, all she could see was her promise. Ord Cantrell. Felicity, and the man waiting for her.

“Carry on. What else is there?”

“There you go.”

A look passed between the two women. A mutual understanding, quiet acknowledgment that neither was telling the whole truth.
 
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Rhonwen

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"Indeed you are not." A deep yet cold feminine voice warned pilot Brax. The officers onboard the Detente would turn to see an ISB uniform worn by a Chiss agent. In her hands she carried a tray with some recently served food. The woman's figure brought her a full head taller than many of the petite interceptor pilots onboard the ship. Rhonwen's red eyes stared at Brax with a stoic expression that would make most people uneasy. Her eyes did not blink as she bore a hole into the man's head with her focus. At least rebels have the good sense to hide their intentions rather than blab it over the mess decks. "Keep in mind deserters do not get veteran benefits." She added to let the pilots know they should be careful. It sounded like a joke but any one of them would be thrown into the brig if they uttered another comment like that.

Rhonwen had heard enough and could report the pilot. She may still do so and then through no fault of her own this loud mouthed pilot would receive some proper discipline. Her eyes glanced at Captain Solari, a man who technically outranked her. While Kellan was their leader and certainly had rank the pilots were not only beholden to their immediate superior officer and would be wise to remember that.

Unfortunatly for Kellan, any of his subordinates disheartened by the news would impact his unit. Defectors, deserters, retirees, whatever led them away from the Empire would only weaken. Low morale had a real impact on performance and if pilots fell out of the Empire's military then the jobs spread throughout many would have to be undertaken by only a few. The anvil of war would test and temper the best of them, weeding out those that were unworthy of seeing the final vision come to be.

@Tic @Volene
 

Gor'Jarr Desilijic

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From within the putrid reaches of his palace on Gamorr, Gor'Jarr Desiligic observed the news while sampling snacks atop his fetid throne. News of the accords and of the following unrest in Imperial space tickled him. Without winning a single invasion, Nor'Baal had negotiated a treaty unilaterally beneficial to the Hutts. It showed just how unpopular the war was - even when they were winning, the Empire didn't have the morale to keep fighting. And now, the Empire risked fracturing altogether, as the people turned against their leadership.

He slapped his belly, booming across the halls with a hearty laugh as he did so. It was deep, echoing, and spiteful. His voice boomed as he called out to his spice-brained harem, loudly slurping a creature as he did. <Beet sah bal teandiooh oaee che ooe oesilijic kajidic. Aga, ooe hutts rise ooove ooe wretches, tah our rightful pah noleeyah ooe galaxee. > If by war, then by war. If through peace, then through peace. The method was irrelevant - Hutt domination was inevitable as the torrent that washes away the boulder. Even if it took eons, the Hutts would win. But as the war turned cold, there was an extensive amount to prepare for.

Tonight, though, Gor'Jarr would celebrate. Nor'Baal's providence trickled down from Nal Hutta to his pockets. Expanding to the Empire meant a lot more money very soon. Another slimy creature with many legs slid down the mighty Hutt gullet. He thought of the maw of the Cartel itself, swallowing worlds whole.

 

Cassir Caerleon

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The young and newly minted Imperial Knight was outraged when the news broke out about this. This 'Concordat' was downright preposterous. There is no way the Empire could have agreed to it. Cassir wasn't in the meeting room at the time so he doesn't know what exactly went down behind closed doors, but he can't just believe that the Empire had agreed to terms like these and the Imperial Council just went along with it.

Cassir is loyal to the Empire and to the Emperor, always and forever. But there is no Emperor. A strong Emperor, like Emperor Drast would not have caved into these terms. He instead would have scattered the slugs into the wind, instead of effectively rolling out the red carpet for criminal scum to enter the Empire virtually unchecked.

The Hapan is loyal to the Empire and will serve it in all things, although with some amount of faith lost; in the Empire, the politicians, the upper echelons and the Imperial Council.

Hopefully the Empire will right this wrong. Sooner rather than later...
 

Nor'baal Desilijic

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The dimly lit palace on Nal Hutta echoed with the grunts and roars of the ongoing pitfight between two massive Gamorrean gladiators. The stench of sweat, blood, and the earthy musk of the combatants filled the air as Nor'baal reclined on his ornate throne, a platform elevated to provide a clear view of the gruesome spectacle below.

The pit was circular, its edges lined with a boisterous crowd of assorted beings, all eager to witness the brutal clash between the snarling Gamorreans. The combatants, adorned in makeshift armour and armed with primitive weapons, circled each other with primal aggression.

The crowd's raucous cheers and jeers reverberated through the arena, creating a chaotic mish-mash of excitement. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation as the two Gamorreans, named Grukk and Vorkag, clashed with a ferocity that would make even the most battle-hardened warrior flinch.

Grukk, a hulking brute with scars marking a history of victorious battles, swung a massive spiked club with thunderous force. Vorkag, agile and cunning, dodged and weaved, retaliating with a pair of razor-sharp vibro-axes. The clash of weapons and the grunts of exertion echoed through the pit.

In a climactic moment, Grukk managed to land a crushing blow with his spiked club, sending Vorkag sprawling to the ground. The crowd erupted into frenzied cheers, their excitement reaching a crescendo as Grukk raised his bloodied weapon triumphantly. The victorious Gamorrean basked in the adulation, a champion in the brutal theatre of the pit.

Nor'baal's eyes, yellow slits of sadistic hedonism, observed the spectacle with a mix of excitement and approval—the majesty of combat, a spectacle that resonated with the primal instincts of his kind, the same instinct that spurred his species to dominate all about them.

As the pit fight concluded, Nor'baal's Majordomo approached with a respectful bow, acknowledging the success of the chosen champion. <Oyabun, the victory is celebrated by our loyal subjects. The pit is a reflection of the might of the Hutt Cartel.>

Nor'baal grunted in acknowledgement, his eyes shifting from the victorious Gamorrean to the datapad the Majordomo held. The atmosphere of the pitfight seamlessly transitioned into the strategic conversation about the recent peace deal, which he had negotiated with his deft hand.

<The Cantonica Concordat, a stroke of genius in negotiation. Our Cartel now has unprecedented access to Imperial territories,> the Majordomo began, detailing the terms of the agreement.

Nor'baal's bulbous eyes gleamed with shrewd calculation, a flash of anger crossing them as he pondered precisely when he had asked his upstart of an advisor for its views on his own incalculable genius. <Unchecked access, business opportunities, and a foothold in Imperial territories. This is a gateway to vast riches and influence.>

The Majordomo nodded in agreement. <The Empire may have signed the peace, but you shall dictate the terms of prosperity, O most transcendent of Hutts. Our network can exploit these privileges to their fullest extent. Smuggling, trade, and alliances can be forged under the guise of this Concordat.>

Nor'baal leaned back on his throne, a satisfied grin spreading across his face. <Indeed. The galaxy will know the Hutt Cartel's dominance. Inform our contacts. Let them know the Cartel's reach extends far and wide, and our influence will shape the very fabric of this 'Empire'.>

As the Majordomo retreated to carry out the orders, Nor'baal's eyes returned to the pit, where a new set of combatants prepared for their brutal dance. The Hutt's mind, however, was already entwined with the intricacies of galactic power, plotting the next moves in the grand symphony of dominance.
 
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