Ask New Alderaan Greener Pastures

[Hergalor]

Before and after an odd meeting on his homeworld of Taanab, Senator Hergalor togTherador had been ironing out a treaty with two of the Free Worlds Alliance's most notable members: Onderon and New Alderaan. Both parties had expressed interest in a mutual investment and heavy weapons sale, so Hergalor decided to simplify the process by bringing the three into the same room. Now, the deal to make Taanab Agroecological Cooperative the master planner and land developer of New Alderaan was all but finished; it had been okayed by the Senator himself, and all that remained was to meet with his embassy's staff to sign the dotted lines.

It was also an opportunity for some casual diplomacy. Hergalor's yacht ferried him and Senator Graves leisurely to New Alderaan, offering the pair of overworked politicians a rare opportunity to rest in comfort. Of course, Hergalor always blew off work; it just took a lot of effort to maintain the image of being an above-it-all fisherman. As their ship touched down on the surface of New Alderaan, Hergalor realized that he had been closed off for much of the trip, preferring to read quietly in his quarters rather than attend to the social expectations of his guest. He hoped he could make up for that indiscretion through a good time today.

Hergalor stood at the entrance of the yacht as the ramp slowly lowered. Through the window, he could see the beaming faces of New Alderaan's delegation. Hergalor affixed his mechanical translator to his mouths, turning to Cassian once more before they landed. "You ready, Graves? Let's make our planets some money." He patted the smaller Zeltron on the shoulder, chuckling at his own joke. Hergalor would spend the day cultivating this joviality.

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[Cassian Graves]

Generally, Cassian Graves did not enjoy space travel. The distant hum of the engines set his teeth on edge, and the confined quarters made him feel like a trapped womp rat. Some people possessed the ability to stay days on end within a starship without giving it a second thought, but he hated the cooped up feeling that always settled over him.

Senator Hergalor's Baudo-class Star Yacht, however, was in a class of its own and possessed many of the comforts of home. Cozy and spacious but without the cool draft that usually swept through the cold, lifeless hallways of a ship. Cassian had to wonder if Mrs. togTherador was the mind behind the interior design or if Senator Hergalor was a man of many secret talents.

The Zeltron wouldn't have been surprised. He had taken an instant liking to the Ithorian, and the pair shared many of the same interests and ideals. They each put their own planets—and themselves—first.

When Hergalor first approached Cassian, the Onderon Senator was only too eager to accept the deal he brokered. It would benefit both of their worlds, not to mention draw a profit. Onderon desperately needed the defense platforms and heavy weapons that New Alderaan could provide if they hoped to fend off the advances of the Sith Empire. It was only a matter of time until the Sith would lash out at the Free Worlds Alliance again, and in the meantime, senators needed to use this repireve to their own benefit.

"Always," Cassian replied, flashing the Ithorian a smile. Hergalor had a charm of his own, one that was sure to win over the New Alderaan delegates in no time. The Free Worlds Alliance needed more men like him.

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[Hergalor]

The pair descended the ramp to meet the New Alderaanian diplomats. It was one of those times Hergalor was grateful to be Ithorian. While he didn't exactly resonate with the selfless, tree-hugging culture of his people's homeworld, he was happy he didn't have to wear the plastered-on smiles that every near-human politician across the galaxy wore throughout the day. He could feel as bored as he wanted to, and his companions would be none the wiser.

"Thank you for hosting us." He took a wide bow. "It is always a pleasure to meet with our fellow compatriots in the Free Worlds Alliance."

At the head of the delegation, a Pantoran woman responded with the slightest nod of her head. "Senator togTherador," her head turned to the Zeltron, next, with the ever-so-slightest smile appearing on her lips. "Senator Graves." She turned abruptly, declining to introduce herself. The well-studied diplomatic pair would likely recognize her as Ambassador Delatroix, a rising star of New Alderaanian's aristocracy and a gatekeeper for the world's bustling industry to outsiders. "You surely must be exhausted from your travels over. I have arranged for your quarters here, on New Alderaan. You will take the afternoon to rest and, this evening, be celebrated with a state dinner. We can save all discussion of business until then." She gestured to her underlings, summoning

There was no objecting to Ambassador Delatroix, of course. Hergalor simply nodded, shooting a glance at Graves as the delegation which had just arrived disappeared into slick, silver vehicles and left for the palace. Cassian and Hergalor were left alone, with little more than their security staff and a hired driver to keep them company. "You're an adventurous sort, wouldn't you say, Cassian?" Hergalor had an idea of a way to kill the time for a couple of hours. "How about we survey that land that will soon make us rich?"

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[Cassian Graves]

The Pantoran delegate that greeted the pair of senators did not introduce herself, but hers was a face that needed no introduction. Ambassador Delatroix, beauty and intellect. A rare combination, even in politics. The Zeltron looked forward to getting to know her better.

The two senators were left alone, and Cassian seized the Ithorian's suggestion without hesitation. After days spent inside a yacht, the last thing he wanted to do was seclude himself in some hotel room. His lungs longed for fresh air, and his legs ached to be stretched. "I would say so, yes," Cassian replied with a dazzling smile that matched his eyes. In a lighthearted tone, he added, "But you could hardly expect me to admit any differently, Senator."

Cassian turned his attention from the skyline of New Aldera to the expanse of nature, his blue eyes sweeping over the forests in the distance. With its sweeping plains and snow capped mountains off in the distance, New Alnderaan was a beautiful planet. Senator Clément was a fortunate man.

"I should have brought a few of our engineers along," the Zeltron lied, sharing a chuckle with the Ithorian beside him. "They were chomping at the bit to get a good look at the land they'll be developing alongside TAC. They even went so far as to show me to the shuttle personally, hoping to get me to change my mind, but I don't like to put the cart before the horse."

The truth was that Cassian would never have brought that group of gaggling bores along with him, regardless of the circumstances. The thought of spending days on end cooped up alongside them in such close quarters, constantly expected to keep up appearances and extend pleasantries was unbearable.

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[Hergalor]

Hergalor had also traveled light in terms of staff, bringing only the crew of his ship along with him. As a senator, you were expected to constantly keep up appearances: A certain amount of decorum was expected for you as a politician, and inversely, your personal staff must be handled with an iron fist. Work involved wearing a number of masks and holding a number of interests, often in contradiction with each other. Hergalor cherished the opportunity to escape from that tedium even briefly.

Cassian Graves provided just such an opportunity. Hergalor had taken an immediate liking to the Zeltron - he could hold his own against the Senate, but had a genuine friendliness to him as well. It was fortuitous that their policy interests were in alignment, too. The skillset of the Onderonians filled gaps that the TAC had long held - chiefly, in architecture and design. The architects of Iziz had created a completely unique type of urban plan. Rather than terraforming the entirety of the planet to suit the needs of its citizens, Onderonians lived in their small cities, while the vast, vast jungle took much of the planet's land. The jungles of Onderon held botanical riches that had not yet been discovered, of that Hergalor was sure. And their private army in the Untamed brought them into the folds of the galactic market as a player.

TAC could make use of all of these things. As the Cooperative continued to grow, its corporate members desired control of all aspects of trade. Not just production and sales, but refining, shipping, storing, too. Housing for laborers, policies for friendly trade, private armies and navies to help protect their growing empire. Tanaab had always been healthy, but the chaos of war had provided a whirlwind of new opportunities to the planet. One just needed the will to seize them.

Hergalor turned to the ramp of his yacht - two of the ship's crew were pushing down two FC-20 Speeder Bikes to the landing strip. "I hope you know how to ride one of these, Cassian." Hergalor moved towards one of them, activating a commlink in his translator so the two could speak while riding. One of the crew offered Cassian a helmet and his own set of keys, as well. "We can ride over to the site ourselves." He kicked on his own bike and began to ride off into the forests of New Alderaan without another word. Senator Graves would hear his robotic voice through his own commlink. "Clear skies, good weather - New Alderaan has always been a perfect spot for a good swoop bike ride." Hergalor marveled at the majesty of the forest. The New Alderaanian engineers had done masterful work with it - trees rising high into the clouds, their branches weaving into an elegant, organic quilt. Birds singing, fish leaping from pristine streams, deer hopping peacefully through the cleared paths. Soon, this land would be TAC's newest breadbasket. Hergalor enjoyed the scenic, morning ride through the woods; it would allow Graves a moment to appreciate the scope of the venture they were undertaking.

This forest, so teeming with life, would soon be filled with a profitable venture. Value would be extracted from the soil itself to the birds in the sky. It felt like printing money. It was a feeling Hergalor cherished.

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[Cassian Graves]

Two speeder bikes were brought from the hull of the Ithorian's yacht. Cassian's eyes swept over the crescent-shaped repulsorcraft, appreciating their unique craftmanship as he ran a hand tenderly along one of the golden seats. "These are fine vehicles, togHergalor," he complimented. "Just listen to that engine. It practically purrs."

The Zeltron thanked the crewmate that handed over the keys and helmet, slipping the latter on over his head and straddling the speeder bike. He flipped a few switches to turn on the integrated comlink, shooting Hergalor an excited smile."Don't worry about me," he quipped in good humor. "You forget I served in the Onderon Royal Guard. Let's just say we got bored a lot more than we should have." He shrugged. "You've got to pass the time somehow."

Some time had passed since his last excursion on a speeder bike, but once you'd learned how, you never forgot. Or so he hoped. There wasn't much time for hobbies and joyrides in the life of a politician, not if you wanted to keep tax payers happy.

The pair of Free Worlds senators sped across the plains and forests of New Alderaan, their bikes effortlessly maneuvering around trees and clusters of plants and over gurgling streams and fallen logs. The planet was, in a word, tranquil. Cassian felt free— free of responsibility, worry, and expectations.

There were no reporters here, no aides whispering in your ear and prompting your next move, and no other politicians waiting for you to make a slip so they could cut you to pieces. Cassian felt truly alive as the wind swept against him, the bird's perfect chorus filled his ears, and the promise of money lingered on the horizon. Not only was this land alluring, but it would line their pockets with credits, too.

Cassian grinned, guiding the repulsorcraft forward until he rode alongside the Ithorian that he was growing more fond of with every passing interaction. "What do you say to a little race, Senator?"

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[Hergalor]

Hergalor would grin, if he had the near-human facial structure. Failing that, he released a low chuckle into his comms system. "A race? Cassian, I've piloted submarines moving faster than the sound barrier through pitch-black waters." An exaggeration, but the kind of good-hearted bragging any good competition deserved. His pulled the throttle on his bike, racing forwards towards their destination.

His bike listened to his call. Hergalor had these custom-built; driving up the price of an already luxury brand of bike. On Taanab, Hergalor would ride these to hurtle across the plains of the farms, coursing across the world with absolute ease. This synergy and practiced helped to explain Hergalor's explosive performance. He moved with the fidelity of a seasoned pod racer or scout trooper, weaving between branches and across streams, hemming, hawing, ducking, pulling, moving in concert with his speeder bike.

It quickly became less about the race and more about the thrill of motion. The landscape was a blur, a barely visible site that served as little more than a backdrop to the movement of men and bikes. Hergalor had lost sight of Cassian, but it barely mattered. Hergalor was already having the time of his life.

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[Cassian Graves]

"Then a little bike race between two friends should be no problem for an Ithorian of your experience," Cassian would tease in a confident tone, revving the engine to spur the Ithorian into action.

No encouragement was needed, however, as the Senator of Taanab leapt at the challenge and pulled on the throttle of his bike. The middle-aged Ithorian was anything but at heart, with the energy and enthusiasm of a much younger man. For the first time that day, it occurred to the Zeltron that he might not be able to keep up with the Ithorian. Hergalor was full of surprises, and Cassian had a feeling this was just a scratch of the surface.

Cassian sped after his colleague and friend, his features twisted with determination as he leaned forward in the crescent-shaped seat of the vehicle. Hergalor sped around each obstacle in his path with the agility and maneuverability of a seasoned pod-racer on Malastare. Meanwhile, Cassian followed fifteen or so meters behind, struggling to match his opponent's speed and tenacity.

To his left, the Zeltron noticed movement in the forest. Bright red with golden stripes moving between trees and overgrown foliage, disappearing from view one moment and reappearing the next. Suddenly, it darted into his path— a four-legged deer five meters ahead. Had his reflexes been quicker, Cassian might've swerved around the deer and avoided a collision. Instead, the vehicle's safety technology initiated the automatic breaks, and the racing speeder bike came to a sudden and crashing halt.

Spared a gruesome death, the deer frolicked away and disappeared into the forest once again. Cassian, however, was sent careening headfirst over the handle bars, deposited into a pile of fresh mud directly onto his exhaust port. Blue eyes stared down at his clothing, covered in grass and mud. Another designer suit ruined. What would Kiacro say?

The Zeltron let out a long, painful sigh. Well, this was humiliating.

@Fine Dining Set Thanks a lot, Dice Maiden xD

 

[Hergalor]

Hergalor heard the distinctive sounds of a Zeltron screaming as a screeching speeder-bike stopped instantly. It was a good thing that Taanab's Senator had invested so heavily into these bikes, its custom brakes were designed to prevent any damage to the vehicle and as little damage as possible to its rider. In that order, of course; these bikes were nearly children to Hergalor. He would hate to see them damaged.

He flipped his bike around, cruising through the forest of New Alderaan to find the Zeltron senator covered in mud on the ground. At this sorry sight, Hergalor laughed; deeply, heartily, happily. As humiliating as this was for Cassian, Hergalor respected his dutiful sigh; there was nary a protest, no blame placed at anyone except for himself. Despite his characteristic charm, Cassian was devoid of the egotistical attitude that plagued so many of the aristocratic members of Senate. In Cassian, Hergalor found a parallel to himself; easy-going, yet severe. Ambitious, but cheerful. It reflected, perhaps, the orientation of their governments; the Free Worlds Alliance was long seen as a scrappy alternative to the poise of the New Republic or the efficient professionalism of the ISC. Perhaps these two, together, could forge a new image for their worlds.

Hergalor powered down his bike and offered Cassian a hand back up. "I assume this means I win our little wager, Cassian." He patted the man on his back. "But, we should probably get back to the ship, sooner rather than later." Hergalor figured now would be as appropriate a time as any to announce TAC's plans for the region.

"Today's deal will mark a change in Taanabian policy, and I want Onderon at our side in all our future ventures. Your armies in the Untamed, your proximity to Taanab, your unexplored botanical resources, and your goodwill, Cassian, have all convinced Taanab that your world is the perfect ally to our own." It was a sentiment shared implicitly by increasingly friendly state visits, but here, Hergalor hoped to seal the deal.

"New Alderaan has offered their land to TAC's vision. This goes beyond farms and foodstuffs - we are on the precipice of building a trade empire that could shake the foundations of this galaxy. Within the Free Worlds Alliance, we could have considerable influence. Here, we purchase land." He stretched his hands out to the marvelous forest, soon to be the dominion of TAC. "Soon, it will be ships, defensive structures, armies, entire worlds. A vision for trade and profit that this war-torn galaxy has not seen in centuries. And we can be at the head of it, Cassian. Not Onderon and Taanab, but you and I. But to do this, I need you at my side."

He eyed the muddy senator once more. He was a diamond in the rough, a rare flower hidden in the heart of the jungle. With Onderon's support, they could begin to build a genuine bloc within the Free Worlds Alliance, and hold court both within and without their space. It would be power unlike their worlds had known.

"Will you take this next step with me, Cassian? Will you commit yourself to this gilded vision - where our planets become richer than ever, where the galaxy is made safer by our trade and protection. Are you ready for this?"

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[Cassian Graves]

The Zeltron wasn't left to wallow in the failure and humiliation of his accident alone for long, as Hergalor appeared and promptly joined in. The Ithorian sped up alongside Cassian, the low-pitched rumble of the speeder bike's engine nearly drowned out completely by the laugh of its rider. Deep and resounding, the sound originated in the Ithorian's stomach and reverberated in his throat. A deep belly laugh, in laymen's terms.

After all, what were friends for? And Cassian certainly considered Hergalor a friend.

"I don't suppose you'd agree to best two out of three, would you?" Cassian suggested with a lopsided grin, the joke falling as flat as he had. Well, almost.

Although embarrassed, Cassian didn't hesitate to accept the hand Hergalor offered. Pulled to his feet in a matter of seconds, it was impossible not to notice the firm grip the Senator of Tanaab possessed. Was there no end to the Hergalor's talents?

He could charm his way into the hearts of the people and the influential. He had more fishing stories than the King of Arkanis himself. He drove with the speed and tenacity of a professional pod racer. He was the life of the party. He had the business savvy of a shrewd Hutt. He snored louder than the cries of a birthing Tauntaun, and he could drink you under the table. To top it all off, did he work out too?

Somehow, Cassian found it difficult to imagine the middle-aged Ithorian in a tank top and shorts at the gym, pumping iron late into the night and downing one bottle of Emryc Energy after another, but Cassian wouldn't put anything past his colleague. The Senator of Tanaab was a man of mystery and untold talents, not, the Zeltron liked to imagine, unlike himself.

The friendly pat on his back was enough to rouse Cassian from his thoughts most pitiable, and as Hergalor shared his vision for the future of their planets, the Zeltron's attention quickly turned toward the topic at hand. He no longer concerned himself with brushing off what mud he could from his designer suit or with the bruise beginning to form on his coccyx. His eyes were all for Hergalor, his thoughts all for the vision he declared for their planets— for themselves.

Cassian didn't need to think twice about his answer. The possibilities were endless, and together the two of them could restore the Free Worlds Alliance to its former glory. They would carve out a future for themselves, and their deeds and legacies would not be forgotten by the generations to come.

"Always," Cassian answered, echoing the same sentiment he had expressed earlier on the boarding ramp of the Baudo-class Star Yacht. He flashed Hergalor that same smile, grasping the Ithorian's hand and shaking firmly. "You can count on me."

They were in agreement, and in tandem would they labor. Cassian was looking forward to it.

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