Minor Faction The Hapes Consortium: The Red Coronation

Every holo-screen across the Hapan Consortium flickered into static and died. Tracing arrays spun in useless loops as an unauthorized feed hijacked the broadcast network. When the picture cleared, thick silver veils draped the back of the room, the surrounding architecture concealed. Cloaked figures stepped silently around a young woman seated upon a simple throne, placing a circlet of freshly forged beskar upon her brow. The true crown of House Djo rested upon another's head. For now.

The smith had done their work well. The circlet bore ancient Hapan runes and the stylized motifs of an Ereneda, resting against dark colored tresses that fell over her behind her shoulders. She neither smiled nor bowed her head; her stare was empty and forward. The rites belonged to Hapes, but the crown did not. It was only another burden she had inherited. However, those ancient words echoed through the chamber, older than every foreign empire that had come believing the Consortium could be bought, occupied, or inherited.

"Hail Cortana Djo!"

"Hail Ereneda!"

The cries washed over her without changing her expression. Her thoughts went to the fact that every additional second spent observing the ceremony was another second for enemy intelligence to triangulate the transmission. While tradition had its place. Timing mattered more. Only when the final rite concluded did she rise, and for a long moment...she said nothing.

When she finally spoke, her voice was calm. Almost conversational.

"They called me daughter."
"Then made me an orphan."
"They called me heir."
"Then they made me exile."
"They called me forgotten."
"They were wrong."

A beat. Then her cadence sped up.

"I was the girl."
"I was the daughter."
"I was the exile."
"I was the forgotten."
"I was the woman they believed history would never remember."

Another pause.

"Today...I remember. And Hapes remembers with me."

Then she looked down. Six Mandalorians stood below the dais. Their cuirasses had been stripped away, but everything else remained. She studied them with the same detached precision of hers, pulling small details about them that she archived in the back of her head. One favored his left leg. Another had fresh scoring across his vambrace where someone had attempted, and failed, to pry it away. The tallest of them kept his breathing to a slow. Six warriors…or occupiers; they had misunderstood the Consortium entirely.

She descended the steps without haste. At the bottom, she raised two fingers. And at that command, masked women stepped forward carrying the unmistakable silhouette of the Gun of Command -- She had spent years learning how easily free will could be stolen…Her gaze lingered for what could’ve been mere seconds on the Gun of Command. A relic of another age, it was an instrument she had once sworn she would never wield. Today though, she would borrow their free will only long enough to return Hapes its own. Suddenly violet arcs snapped through the chamber in perfect unison. The Mandalorians convulsed as the neural frequencies overtook their nervous systems. Their bodies remained upright, as one would suspect of such strong men, but their minds no longer belonged to themselves.

Silence fell over the room, then she spoke. "The Galactic Alliance wanted to negotiate our loyalty, the Black Sun wanted to monetize our suffering, and then more foreigners came…the Mandalorians. More occupiers." Her eyes drifted across the six prisoners. "Everyone believed Hapes was just a throne, it never was. It’s its people." She said, letting the words linger. "You entered this cluster as occupiers, and now stand before it as prisoners." she said. "Under the ancient laws of Hapes, those who wage unlawful war against the Crown and spill the blood of its daughters surrender every protection afforded to honorable enemies."

Her voice never rose. "This sentence isn’t vengeance. It’s judgment.", She raised two fingers once more. "Draw your rifles." she said, and subsequently their prisoners obeyed. None resisted. They couldn’t.

"Show your own Empire...how Hapes answers those who mistake sovereignty for spoil." Six thunderous shots echoed followed...Armored bodies collapsed against white marble. She didn't flinch, nor blink. She never even looked down. She walked through the chamber, as though nothing beneath her feet required acknowledgment. There was no triumph.

"Hapes will never again be purchased. It will never again be occupied. And it will never again mistake survival...for surrender."

The transmission ended.