[center][i]A Dance with Aera Cura[/i]
Interlude[/center]

[i]Taris System Defensive Command Post[/i]

"..Look, all I'm saying is that the absence of evidence is not the evidence of absence. Just because we don't know they are there doesn't mean that they aren't there." Eighty-Eight concluded the statement by gesturing towards the corner of the room, where both himself and the other clone had previously been standing before a bucket fell from the ceiling at seeming random. His platoon-mate, Sixty-Three was not impressed, however, a look of skepticism obvious on his face. "And I'm telling you, Eights, that regardless of-" his comment was cut short by the bucket being moved again, despite neither of them being close to it. Sharing a quick look, both of them smartly turned about and stepped out of the room, locking the door behind them. "How about we just agree that that was weird?"

"Invisible assholes." Eighty-eight muttered before nodding in agreement, and the two went about on their patrol. Command had apparently received word from "Faithless Remorse" on a fleet that had jumped nearby, and the commanders were on high-alert in case it was shenanigans by those imperials again. Regardless, the two clones went about their duty quickly and without further incident, though a run in with the gamorrean consultant from Hetty'c lead to more than a few harsh words exchanged between Sixty-Three and the porcine creature. Their patrol eventually lead them to the command centre, where Admiral Tarkev was reporting in via holonet, and was looking like he had just been told not to shoot at the inbound fleet. Such assumptions were made clear when their commander ordered Tarkev to immediately link command to the inbound fleet by slaving their comms to the command net.

Soon their commander was on live-feed with the Black Hand fleet, the holonet relaying his face and upper body to the new-comers. Dressed smartly in an immaculate cream-colored uniform, the commander was an imposing figure, for he was originally a front-line clone trooper, but had displayed the propensity towards leadership and strategic thinking at a grand scale, traits which had eventually lead to him being named Grand Admiral of the Tarisian League, no small feat for a vat-boy. "Greetings visitor." His tone was clipped and professional, come from his years of bellowing orders at clones and shouting commands from the pulpit of a Star Destroyer, "My name is Ceres Bannon, Grand Admiral of the Tarisian League Sector Defense Forces, and Legate of the Grand Republic of Mandalore, glory be to his name. We understand you to be a group calling yourselves the Black Hand, a group that we unfortunately know little of, but perhaps this will give us the opportunity to learn more about you, and we can come to a deal. For what it is worth, I have given clearance to your vessels to make way to Taris proper, where arrangements are being made for a delegation to negotiate possible alliances with your group and the Tarisian League. If it is deemed acceptable, we would also like to have a representative from the Jedi Enclaves present to further solidify negotiations."

Ceres clasped his hands behind his back, awaiting response from the Black Hand, and hoping that everything would go smoothly from here. Of course, eventualities were being arranged, with Taris' three ISD-I's and six Victory Star Destroyers being re-routed so as to provide a cordon for the incoming vessels and mask the hyperdrive signatures of inbound GRN task force "Resilient Sons". Resilient Sons were being brought in just in case the Black Hand turned hostile, their four Venator-I Type-2's and Type-1 being more than enough to level the playing field against the Lucrehulks that the Black Hand possessed when combined with the current fleet arrangement. He was also very deliberate in his contacting of the Enclaves, as what little information they did have of the Black Hand hinted at them being force-users, a trait that unsettled him, and he wanted some form of contingencies in place, in case things went south. All in all, things were being constructed in such a way as to allow either a peaceful discourse and the alliance between the GRM and another power, or the protection of civil assets through overwhelming force. This was what made Ceres Bannon a deadly force in the command of a fleet, and he intended to make damn sure things were peaceful here.