A MESSAGE TO THE DIARCHS
[ TRANSMISSION START ]
There is no image yet, only sound...
Only the dull thunder of a hammer striking nail with a patience that feels intentional rather than hurried. Blood slicks the grip, iron answers iron, and the rhythm demands attention before it ever offers meaning.
Thump... Thump... Thump...
A man's voice enters the transmission, low and steady, carrying no need for haste or ornament. “It took time to find the constellation you abandoned.” he says, each word measured. “You scattered yourselves across unfamiliar stars and convinced yourselves that distance could become absolution.”
Thump... Thump... Thump...
“Taris is vast.” The voice continues, the hammer never breaking its cadence. “Endless streets, endless lives, and endless places to hide. But my owls see farther than you ever believed.” His tone remains calm as he speaks of the hunt. “I found the neighbors who watched you grow. I found the women whose hearts stirred when you spoke their names. I found every thread that ever bound you to another living soul.”
Thump... Thump... Thump...
“Every memory,” he says evenly. “Every kindness. Every ember of sympathy left burning on Taris and on Mandalorian soil alike.”
The sound ceases, and the image arrives.
Mand'alor the Iron kneels upon the sands of Manda'yaim, beskar and cloak drenched in blood, the hammer finally stilled. He rises and releases the tool, letting it fall into the dust as the space behind him comes into view. A cross stands raised, bearing the gasping form of a woman whose features echo the Diarchs with unsettling familiarity. Beyond her stretches a field of crosses so vast that the horizon itself seems crowded with suffering.
Aether steps forward, his bloodied hand lifting toward the display he has fashioned. “This,” he says, his voice unwavering, “is the value of a single Mandalorian life.” His gaze remains fixed ahead as he continues. “This is the price for daring to extinguish one of my people. This is what awaits all who rally beneath the banner of the Diarchy, all who call them sanctuary, and all who dare name them ally.”
He lowers his hand slowly. “A debt has been incurred..."
“And the cross hungers for recompense.”
[ TRANSMISSION END ]

