Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

A Letter

Gilamar Skirata

The most important step is always the next one
KELDABE, MANDALORE:
1400 GSH, TAUGNSDAY
ENCRYPTED MESSAGE

Dear Miss Lasedri,
It has come to my attention that your group of Rebels has put forth the effort to eradicate the greedy and imperialistic governments of our war torn Galaxy. It is with a heavy heart that I send my condolences for the people you have lost and are bound to lose on your crusade to liberate the peoples of Coruscant from the clutches of the Sith. The Mandalorians know how you struggle, as we have also been oppressed in the past by the very force that hangs over your home now.
The Republic has shown itself to be weak and frail, evacuating only those with power, leaving you and the rest of its citizens at the mercy of your Sith captors. This comes from a weakness, a cancer that has taken root in the heart of the Galaxy and I refuse to allow it to continue to spread. While the Sith are our (The Mandalorians and the Republic) mutual enemy, I feel that to leave this cancer to grow would be a terrible mistake and a terrible sin to the people of the Galxy. While the Republic is busy fighting the ever growing Sith and losing so many of its generals to the Dark Side of the Force, I propose you take this time to prepare and strike at the Sith. Push them from your homes. Now I understand, you are low on resources and personnel. Even those you have were merely civilians a few months ago.
That is why I offer you this: Weapons, supplies, food, water, and last but not least, expertise. I am willing to send some of my best to aid you in your endeavor and hopefully, together we can push the Sith from your home and restore the heart of the Galaxy to its former glory. These things are all at my beck and call, all I need is a response from you.
I hope this holomail finds you well,
And may the Force be With You.
-Gilamar Skirata of the United Mandalorian Clans

Leaning back in his chair, the old man sighed, taking a swig from his flask. Standing and turning to face the view of Keldabe his eyes softened. Hopefully, they would take this offer.
[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
Unspecified location, Praesitlyn
2230 GSH, Taugnsday
Encrypted message via untraceable compound relay




Mr. Skirata,
If you could fathom the effects of your letter, you might be amused at what the horizon previously held in store. My respect for you has increased dramatically, especially since we have received your ambassador, Mr. [member="Dred Malachore"]. I am not a trusting sort, but you may eventually win me over. May your house prosper as long as I may have this faith in you.
The problem of the Sith have been eternal and I wish that we might seek yet more permanent solutions. We will try to execute every last one of them if I must personally pull the trigger myself before we let them burn one more world. In this, we are certainly united. I find great consolation in knowing that this desire dwells within your esteemed clans. If you hold steadfast, then you might find you have gained one friend.
We have only begun to fight. I can only hope that these letter precede sincere action, as the Republic has been infinitely known to falter in this regard. You may have your words, but in the end, they mean nothing until our actions are witnessed by the Galaxy. The people shall not be free as long as they have no hope, and we will not rest until we rest in peace. In the future, I hope the glow of our contrails alone shall make the forces of oppression tremble in fear.
May the Force be with you and all that formality.
-Echo

Geneviève gazed at her words for a moment, slightly entertained by the uncharacteristically polite bent they projected. Mandalorians? This was quite unique.

Seeing nothing unsatisfactory, she confirmed the transmission and sent the response across the makeshift, bouncing network the Alliance had set up to link back to the Holonet. An affirmative ping alerted her that it had been properly dispatched, and she pocketed her datapad and returned to discuss new plans with the Council.

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]
 

Cortak Pelaka

Guest
C
It wasn't a week before Mand'alor Gilamar Skirata sent a covert drop to the war torn streets of Coruscant. Merec had been pulled from his current mission to find Isley Verd to help the Rebel alliance with training and covert ops against the Sith. Looking around at the guards clad in their beskar'gam then to the two other Ori'ramikade like him without said armor...It brought things home.

They would essentially be alone, with no one to rely on but themselves and the Rebels. Letting a sharp gust of air escape his lips, hazel eyes falling on the crates of gear and general supplies the Mand'alor was just giving away. He didn't understand why they were doing this, but his job wasn't to understand. It was to collect data and help these people.

As the hibridium stealthed transports barley zipped into the Works and landed things were bustling all at once. The cargo bay doors opened and the supplies started rolling out, Mando'ade clad in their armor keeping a watchful eye on the sky and the ground. Stepping onto the permacrete, he tapped his chrono, setting a date and time for their successful arrival. Looking up from the watch he searched for [member="Geneviève Lasedri"]. They had much to discuss before the day was done.
 
Geneviève never liked personal encounters. Being the private and alert person she was, the Benefactor rarely revealed herself as such to anyone outside the Alliance. But without her presence, the Mandalorians truly had no reason to trust them.

Evading Sith patrols was getting trickier each time. The One Sith were vigorously attempting to reinforce their military facilities as the Republic was gathering to strike back at them, and the leader of the Rebels was not sure she could smuggle herself onto Coruscant another time without being shot down. That was why this was her last trip to the smoldering city world--a foreboding representation of an apocalyptic future--without coming in with attack forces fully engaged.

Her ghostly figure proceeded through the haunted streets of the works, the skirt of her usual heavy black trenchcoat fluttering at the back of her shins. With her right hand hidden in the pocket of her coat, she gripped the AB-1 Marshal pistol given to her by a certain Silver Jedi once upon a time. A single Rebel comrade walked beside her, carrying the Alliance's standard issue SXB-1 Scrubber. He was young but his face already showed fatigue from the long months of hiding in The Works, wary eyes dancing to-and-fro on the look for enemy soldiers. In a matter of weeks, this young man had gone from an initiate soldier in the Grand Army of the Republic to a seasoned veteran under the heel of a murderous empire.

Halting as they emerged from an alley about fifty meters shy of the Mandalorian landing party, Geneviève raised her free left hand, holding up her middle and index fingers together and extending her thumb. "Su cuy'gar," she greeted in broken Mando'a. It was the only phrase she knew.

[member="Merec Vizsla"]
 

Cortak Pelaka

Guest
C
She was young, younger than he expected...Then again, these were Rebels. They were all young, refusing to give any quarter to their Sith captors. He nodded in response to the badly broken Mando'a. Sometimes he wished aruetise would just speak basic to them, its not like they didn't speak it or anything. "And the same to you Miss Lasedri...I presume?" He wasn't sure, after all they had no picture of her, or rather no recent picture. She was a rather elusive woman to track down. Stepping forward, his ankle high boots crunching over debris he extended his hand. "Merec Viszla." He wouldn't give away what he was a part of, not until he was sure their organization was free of moles and not until he was sure this meeting place was secure.

Without the iconic armor of the Mandalorians he needed to be extra careful of infiltrators and assassins. The man's Coruscanti accent was surprisingly thick as well, then again he grew up right down the street. Reaching into his pocket he procured a small box. Within contained a Chrono with a pair of specially designed contact lenses. Instructions were within as well. "Here. This is a special military Chrono in production by the-" he stopped himself, "By our mutual friend. You'll be able to contact us over very secure lines with these, though depending on the distance you may be limited to text based or recorded messages." Looking behind him, cradling his blaster rifle he noted the progress of unloading. He hoped they were through soon.
[member="Geneviève Lasedri"]
 
She stood in place, stolid as they shook hands, nodding in subtle confirmation of her name. "In good health, yes." The man did not strike her as one from the warrior clans, especially with his native accent. Perhaps he was new to the Mandalorian thing. Lasedri wondered if he could tell where she had originated or if she had lost her accent over the years.

Quietly accepting the item Merec handed to her, Geneviève smiled, amused at the pair of contact lenses included with her gift. It was no fault of theirs; nothing they could have foreseen. The brown iris of her left eye briefly analyzed the Chrono while her icy white eye was as dead as ever. After a moment, she pocketed the device and returned her asymmetrical gaze to the man of the hour. "I suppose you'll be tracking me. I don't blame you." She smirked knowingly at the Mando, though more out of humor and hardly accusatory. This was a game, and everyone played.

"I hope you know your resources will be in good hands, Mister Vizsla. You see, I don't believe in anarchy." The Benefactor brought her fingers up to her face and traced the scar that ran from her forehead down to her cheek, crossing the eye that had obviously been affected by the incision. "We'll be good."

[member="Merec Vizsla"]
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom