A Resistance is Born

[Gilamar Skirata]

Shadola Sector - Empty Space

Gil looked out of the viewport along one of the long corridors within the Ketyadyr. Outside against the loose star fields and inky black of space was a mottly collection of ships from all different cultures and professions. The one thing that unifed them all? They all called for the end of the Sith Empire.

After Chad Gil had sworn that until Mandalore was free, he wouldn't wear the armor of his people. Instead, for today, he wore the grease stained brown work shirt he'd been in the last several days with a pair of dark flightsuit bottoms and heavy duty boots. A gun belt slung around his waist with a heavy mandalorian blaster pistol settled nicely in the worn holster.

For now they, whatever they were, didn't have any one true base. Doing so would right now be too risky. They were still in their infancy.

With survivors of Chad and other small skirmishes aboard the Ketyadyr, the old Mandalorian battlecruiser was bustling with activity and almost packed to capacity. He wondered if the ship he was going to now would be in better shape...

----------------------
Aboard the Serenity - Ex-Republic Medical Frigate

The meeting was on an old medical ship from the Republic days. Neutral and owned by no one group of rebel fighters. It retained the design language of early Republic vessels. Sharp angles, and sterile lighting, but it was obvious the ship hadn't seen proper military service in decades and he wondered if the ship was retired even before the One Sith sacked Coruscant.

In the meeting room was a collection of peoples. Mon Cala, Quarren, Gand, and everything in between. To his surprise he even spotted a few suits of Mandalorian armor and even a Zygarian. Odd, considering their flourishing slave empire under the Sith...

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

The asthmatic breathing of the aging frigate made Marvik wonder how long it was going to be until this all turned out to be a Sith trap to maroon the lot of them in space. Hell, even if this wasn't a trap Marvik wasn't entirely certain that this thing wasn't going to slowly flake apart into the black beyond like fish food for the stars. Beyond that point, Marvik was almost positive that the guy who had called him here was supposed to be a Mandalorian...

...When he heard the name Skirata the last thing he'd expected was a grease stained wrench monkey. So, carefully leaning against the nearest and most stable looking wall, Marvik stared at the man from behind his T-visor - pondering just how many more drinks it was going to take him to look as sorry as this man did. Every now and again he'd glance around the room, adjusting the two Westar blasters hanging from the haggard brown holsters at the sides of his Beskar'gam.

He almost didn't want to be here. He wouldn't have been if it weren't for the fact that the Dathu homestead was just as under occupation as Mandalore was. As far as Marvik had been concerned, Mandalore had been a lost cause for a long time and maybe it was time to let go of the damn thing. The planet didn't make Mandalorians after all, Clan did.

But that was just him and by the looks of it, this wasn't just a Mandalorian gathering anyway. So, lost in his own pessimistic thoughts, Marvik leaned back and waited.

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

 

[Keira Priest]

For as long as she could remember, Keira had hated the Sith.

Granted, she’d never liked the Jedi too much either, but they were an entirely different can of worms. The Sith she could justify, that was easy. On countless battlefields she’d watched them slaughter innocents, witnessed them kill her men or wound them grievously and leave them to bleed out, held each one she could in her arms as they breathed their last. That alone was enough to put her on a war-path, and had for years, leading her to hunt down and kill as many of their kind as she could, seeing it as nothing more than doing the galaxy a favor.

Then Mandalore had burned. It was something she’d been informed of firsthand, by the Dark Lord no less, before his fleets had ravaged the planet and brought it under Sith-Imperial occupation. Maybe she should have done something about it then. Maybe it would have made a difference, but probably not, one woman against a war machine wasn’t exactly good odds. And so she’d sat helpless, just as they all had, as their homeworld slipped between their fingers.

But then a call had been put out, one she couldn’t ignore, that they were going to fight back. Bring the war to the Sith from the inside, gut them in a way only Mandalorians knew how. So she answered, maybe for an excuse to kill more Sith, maybe so she could atone for previous inaction. Play catch-up. It was hard to tell.

Silently she cursed the choice of venue, knowing it wasn’t intentional but unable to shake the feeling of uncomfortable nostalgia that clung to her at seeing a Republic vessel again. If seeing it was strange being aboard was even stranger, but she had the weight of beskar’gam to remind her that this was a different time, with far different allegiances.

Entering the room, she joined the growing crowd of those dissatisfied with the rule of the Sith, her gaze catching on the handful of other T-visors strewn about.

[member="Marvik Dathu"] | [member="Gilamar Skirata"]

 

[Chekīta Kaie]

Oh how times had changed for Mandalore, not a decade ago the Sith and the warrior people had been such close allies, well more like a puppet and master if you asked some, though now, oh things were very different. IN times like this she was glad her cousin Jaster had broken Clan Awaud away from the Empire, even if their affiliation with the Republic and core worlds had lead to some hard times. Though now with her as the Alor and most of the clan resettled on Alderan things were starting to look up and very interesting, more so with recent events, it was quite ironic.

Still even with the break from their home world Chekita was still a Mandalorian and the Sith once more had done something oh so terrible, like literally every world they had taken over. Like for real, who didn't see this coming, not like many Sith respected the Beskar wearing figthers in their eyes those who couldn't use the force were like lesser beings. All in all it was more then enough reason to answer the call, not that she ever needed a reason to kill Sith in the past, it was always so fun toying with them and watching as they overestimate themselves before the full horror about what she'd do to them set in. It was a feeling never got old, her hands and fingers just twitching to once more throw down with those red saber jockeys once more and with fellow Mandalorians too, oh this would be fun.

​The only issue would be if her presence was allowed, there was always the possibility of others not be so welcoming, hopefully the tyranny of the Sith would be enough to postpone any grudges. Slowly her Adrill fighter would approach the familiar sight of old republic vessels, a simple request to land and come aboard being sent to who ever was in charge of this meeting.

[member="Keira Priest"] [member="Marvik Dathu"] [member="Gilamar Skirata"]

 

[Thal Mantis]

It was in plain sight that one could hide better. Thal had never been a man known for his subtlety, but this wasn't so much subterfuge what he was doing, but rather, a lack of fully explaining the truth. Was he really doing anything truly wrong by lying by omission? It was a lie all the same. Stolen armor- scavenged from one of the failed attacks on the Silver Jedi. The real challenge came from not finding a set of armor, but a set of armor that fit Thal.

He had his father's brute size, after all.

He stood in the back, T-Visor glancing to and fro, examining the gathered people. All shapes, sizes, races. Disenfranchised, distraught. Truth be told, Thal had no real beef with the Sith. The people that caused him so much pain were floating somewhere in space, with the rest of the ruins of the Red Tower, the charred corpse of the has-been criminal spaceport.

He knew exactly zero percent of the people in the room. And they didn't know him. It was mutual, in that regard- but Thal was here to find purpose, and an understanding of where he came from and who he could, and was to be.

So he did the thing that not a lot of men in the Mantis family usually did-

He sat still, and listened.

 

[Atiniir Starrider]

[member="Gilamar Skirata"] and everyone else

Nu kry'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la.

Not gone, merely marching far away.

The old Mandalorian adage echoed in Atiniir's head as he departed the hired shuttle and walked the halls of the Serenity towards the meeting place. He really had been marching far away the last few years. The rise and fall of Mand'alor the Liberator had not been the first time Atiniir had seen combat, but it had been the first time he had seen all-out war, and the experience had changed him. He was still cocky, still reckless, still a Mandalorian by blood and birthright, but he had been tempered in the fires of war. When the dust cleared, he was the same man, yet remarkably different.

He'd left Mandalore to find himself. To realize his destiny in the way of his ancestors; as a bounty hunter and a mercenary, not a soldier. He'd lost himself in tracking fobs and bounty pucks, drowning the scars of war in credits. But you can only run from your past for so long. When he finally felt ready, felt like he could return with pride and fight beside vode once more, he found out what had truly happened while he was away.

Mandalore was in flames again, and this time, Atiniir was too late to stop it.

This time it was the Sith, but truly, Atiniir cared not who was responsible. Only that they needed to pay. As he slid into the meeting room, taking in open spot on the back wall, Atiniir's eyes were steely behind his black T-visor.

Vode an; brother's all. It was time to stop running.

 

[Zyra Crowe]

Zyra strode down the ramp of the Mudhugger in the uniform of an Alliance in Exile trooper. Her squad was off rotation for the time being, but Zoya never took downtime herself. She'd persuaded the squads pilot to get her out here, to this meeting of Rebel and Resistance fighters with the promise of getting out of the base maintenance the rest of the squad would inevitably be roped into. Instead, her pilot got to relax while she attended the meeting.

She had assumed that she wouldn't know any of the other fighters present, and in her first glance around she was right. She removed her cover as she neared the group of Mandalorians that made up the majority of those assembled. She distinctly felt her lack of armor next to their bulk, but ignored it. She made eye contact with anyone who looked her way, and offered nods, but otherwise remained silent and isolated. She watched the groups around her, and waited for the meeting to move forward. If she could work coordinating with these fighters into her squads deployment schedule, she'd be happy with the meeting.

 

[Pa'Kar Sang]

"Thank you all for coming," came a rumbling, throaty voice from somewhere in the center of the small group. A dark skinned Mon Calamari pierced through the crowd and made his way towards the center table. He was flanked by one other Mon Calamari and a Quarren wearing Mon Calamari defense force uniforms. He hadn't expected this many Mandalorians to show up, but maybe Gil had put the word out better than he'd hoped for.

"I am Okkuhm Rils, Admiral of the Mon Calamari Liberation Front." He looked over to Gilamar and nodded. "Gilamar Skirata, myself, and several other leaders have come to an agreement...It is time we stop fighting our individual wars and chasing our individual vendettas. Fighting alone has gotten all of us no where, but together we believe that we can take down the Sith, end their Tyranny, and free our worlds from their dark grasp."

"This meeting is to introduce ourselves, as many of us have had no contact with one another. Today we end petty squabbles and unite as one. The Resistance is stronger together."

[member="Zyra Crowe"] [member="Atiniir Starrider"] [member="Thal Mantis"] [member="Chekīta Awaud"] [member="Keira Priest"] [member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

[member="Okkuhm Rils"] [member="Zyra Crowe"] [member="Atiniir Starrider"] [member="Thal Mantis"] [member="Chekīta Awaud"] [member="Keira Priest"] [member="Marvik Dathu"] [member="Gilamar Skirata"]

Lurking in the background of the meeting, leaning on the bulkhead, the dark haired woman in smuggler's garb continued her disinterested facade in the proceedings. She had arrived with a small group of Battrach refugees from Arrakan, transporting them herself from the carnage visited on their world by the Sith. To all appearances, she seemed to be waiting for her pay or some sort of reward or job in exchange for such altruism. In reality, she was there for much more nefarious reasons.

Eldaah was keeping track of names and faces, species and cultures that had sent representatives to this fledgling group of rebels. Centares had shown that organized resistance within Sith space or on the borders was still alive and well and she had been dispatched by her Master to infiltrate and watch the group. She had left her lightsaber and armor behind, and was suppressing her Force presence to the level of someone that was Force Sensitive but was untrained, just in case any Jedi or light-aligned Force user was part of the group.

If this obsolete and rusting hulk of a medical frigate was the best they could scrounge up at the moment, well Eldaah didn't think the groups of rebels would be much of threat to the war machine that was the Sith military. But... she would watch all the same, orders were orders, and maybe she might learn that some of them were more than meets the eye.

 

[Theo Vereen]

He wasn't unfamiliar with names and clans. When word reached them through resistance channels that there was the possibility of a meeting Theo found himself taking a ship and heading to the pinpoint that was the meeting. His personal ship still unnamed except of the call sign of ALD004 moved to intercept the medical frigate.

Eyes were laid upon him wondering who he was, he had no armor, but his family, had strong mandalorian ties. His father is Draco Vereen but that wouldn't mean much among some of the people here and it wasn't an 'in' card to be played.

Theo was here to listen then decide what was the next step.

He took residence up against the a bulkhead. He began looking about and saw no one he knew. Trust would then be something to be built if they were all strangers.

[member="Eldaah Aderyn"] | [member="Okkuhm Rils"] | [member="Zyra Crowe"] | [member="Atiniir Starrider"] | [member="Thal Mantis"] | [member="Chekīta Awaud"] | [member="Keira Priest"] | [member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Jaranamo Sal]

Jaranano felt as if he were dreaming. Long ago, he had decided his war days were over. But that was before he had been hassled back into action on Zakuul. Before he held the title to Triumvir of the Galactic Triumvirate. He missed the simple days, but the Galaxy needed him and to be honest he needed the galaxy.

And so when the Mandolorian General had sent his discreet call for those that would stand against the Sith, he had come. Despite what his aides would have wanted. His arrival was discreet. Hell, he didn't even know if the General knew he was there. But, perusal he was standing out vibrantly.

Wearing his usual attire of the Triumvirs Dress Uniform, he stood to the back of the room. Being on this ship made him Nostalgic of the old days when he and his brothers would battle pirates at the genuine suggestion of thiers father. How he woul have commanded such a vessel during these conflicts.

He had been an Admiral but now he was a politician. A job he rather enjoyed. And so once the Mon Calamari was finished, he took to the stage, if you could call it that.

"Esteemed colloegs, please allow me to introduce myself. I am Triumvir Jaranamo Sal of the Galactic Triumvirate Federation. And I must say, I am humbled t be in your presence" he began.

"Like you, I have been robbed of everything from the Sith. A childhood. Parents. All o the normal things involved in a childhood. For years my patience grew thin as countless systems were subjagated by the Sith-Imperial War Machine and I was powerless to stop it. But, alas I am not anymore." He paused to collect both his breath and his thoughts.

"I represent a small faction that across the Galaxy have grow tired of watching innocent people die in order for the Sith to grow. No more. It is with delight that I tell you, you are not alone. At this very moment, a convoy of supply ships and a fully dedicated fleet stand ready to aid you on this endeavor. But before I commit, I must ask you: To what ends? Will you fight for the freedom of your worlds and your worlds alone or will you fight for freedom?"

[member="Theo Vereen"], [member="Eldaah Aderyn"], [member="Okkuhm Rils"], [member="Zyra Crowe"], [member="Thal Mantis"], [member="Gilamar Skirata"] and those I missed​

 

[Pa'Kar Sang]

That, was a good question. Without hope, a Resistance will die and there can be no hope if there is no goal. This couldn't just be a means, there had to be an end. The Mon Calamari looked down thoughtfully, his massive head tipping and his eyes rolling in their sockets to stare at the bulkhead.

"A resistance is built on hope," he rumbled, "I'm sure that none of us wish to be held under the heavy boot of the Sith Empire any longer, but I think we need to be aware of and understand that we cannot be the rebirth of something. Sith space has always been under the boot of the Dark Side or," he shifted his eyes warily to the many armored men and women in the room, "The Mandalorians," he finished.

"This region of space has never known a unified government like the Republic or the Alliance, but I would hope that if we could throw off the shackles of the Sith we could come together to heal our worlds and start anew."

[member="Jaranamo Sal"] [member="Theo Vereen"] [member="Eldaah Aderyn"] [member="Zyra Crowe"] [member="Atiniir Starrider"] [member="Thal Mantis"] [member="Chekīta Awaud"] [member="Keira Priest"] [member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Miri O'Hare]

Miri sidled up to [member="Eldaah Aderyn"], doing her very best to hug the wall and not disturb the growing number of people. They really couldn't have done this in a bigger ship? When she was within whisper range she turned and gave the smuggler a smile.

"Thanks for the help," she said, "I was in a really bad spot. I wouldn't be here if it weren't for you." She looked back nervously over the heads in the room, trying to see if she was getting any annoyed looks telling her to pipe down. When she was satisfied she wasn't she turned back and took the woman's hand, slaping a few credits in her hand. They were a mix of Corellian, Sith, and Mon Calamari currencies.

"Hope you'll stick around," she said. "We could use more pilots like you. And," she started before looking around and tacking an exagerated wiff, "Less Mandalorian men, they stink. Well, men in general smell like poodoo." she chuckled.

 

[Atiniir Starrider]

[member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Okkuhm Rils"] [member="Jaranamo Sal"] [member="Theo Vereen"] [member="Zyra Crowe"] [member="Chekīta Awaud"] [member="Keira Priest"] [member="Marvik Dathu"]

Atiniir had never been one for motivational speeches. Growing up in a pirate fleet, and later serving as a front-line Mandalorian soldier, most of his motivation had been limited to "Keep moving, don't get killed," or perhaps "Eyes up, blaster ready, head on a swivel," or the ever popular "Stay alive." He didn't need all this preaching about hope and unity. He needed to know where the enemy was, and how to hit them the hardest. Some people called such tactics brutish; Atiniir called them efficient.

From his place on the back wall, Atiniir noticed two women in smuggler's garb ([member="Miri O'Hare"] [member="Eldaah Aderyn"]) whispering to each other. His nose wrinkled ever so slightly behind his T-visor. Karking smugglers, why were they here? Honorless criminals he'd spent years hunting; did he really have to work with them? Trying not to let his disdain show, he stepped slightly away to draw closer to a Mandalorian also standing along the back wall ([member="Thal Mantis"]). Relaxing ever so slightly in far more enjoyable company, he spoke in the language of his people.

"<Hello brother,>" he said in a voice that was low but not so low as to not be heard through beskar steel, "<Glad to see good representation from amongst the clans.>" As he spoke, Atiniir kept his hands busy by sliding his gauntlets' forearm-length beskar blades in and out of their protective sheathes.

"<Quite a motely crew,>" he continued, glancing towards the two smugglers, "<Hope we don't have to go on a job with them. They might just run for the escape pods at the first sign of a Sith starship.>"

 

[Jada Raxis]

Resistance...

She'd been a part of resistance before, crowning a fleet that was the last free peoples Navy of Rothana; during the Galactic Empires brief rise. Years in the rim honed her skills, and these days she found herself just running random courier jobs and illicit cargo with it. They needed logistics. Her eyes roamed to the Smugglers in the room. This was the beggining of their Resistance Logistics system, possibly the heart.

She stepped into the room. She was a Raxis, with ties to Mandalore that went back before the Civil War.

A shame Raxis was becoming a rarer name these days.

But she was also a Warden, with a sacred duty to keep the skies safe from Tyranny and danger. The Sith represented that danger.

Good enough for her.

"Captain Jada Raxis of the S.S Quantum Runner, at your service."

 

[Keira Priest]

It all reminded her much of the politics she’d partaken in decades before, except now the only real logistics she was concerned with lay in how to most efficiently rid the Sith from the galaxy altogether. Less talking, more action. Finally, the sort of movement she could get behind. They were a mixed bag, sure, but almost every resistance movement was. The other Mandalorians in the room meant there were fit fighters among them, and that was enough.

Long-winded speeches had never been her cup of tea, but she stood by and listened, getting a better feel for the room as more entered. The vode were few and far between these days, it seemed. Even as their homeworld suffered, they could never seem to entirely unite. A shame, but that would likely always be the case, no matter who ruled or what government presided.

Clearing her throat, Keira shifted forward just slightly as silence lulled momentarily. “With all due respect, Admiral,” Her T-visored gaze looked to the Mon Cal, “You’ll forgive my hesitation at seeing my people allied with another power. History has never been kind to us in that regard, and recent events have only driven that point home. I would see my people work and fight alongside yours, certainly. But Mandalorians have never been good at forgetting the past.”

[member="Okkuhm Rils"] | [member="Jada Raxis"] | [member="Atiniir Starrider"] | [member="Miri O'Hare"] | [member="Jaranamo Sal"] | [member="Theo Vereen"] | [member="Eldaah Aderyn"] | [member="Zyra Crowe"] | [member="Thal Mantis"] | [member="Chekīta Awaud"] | [member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Drox Fuga]

-- The travels here from his stronghold within the Empire was a rough ride. The Sith were only growing stronger with the introduction of their puppet, Mandalore the Deceived that their smuggling routes with their supporters dried up. The Trade Lanes through the Mandalorain Empire were kept neutral and his supporters were able to smuggle arms and supplies to the Resistance Group. With their fall however, the several companies of soldiers under his command was reduced to little more then two dozen men. He had been fighting the Sith since his capture at the battle of Commenor, however, the defeat of the Mandalorians all but demoralized those living in the Empire. Hopes of the Mandos joining the Fight and the Resistance fighting from within was all many of them had. In truth Drox was feeling it as well. Nearly Ten Long Years of fighting a loosing battle, captured and beaten again and again.

-- His stronghold was becoming weak in recent weeks, so while he was here to speak with those that put out feelers to Rebel Groups. His men were falling back to safer lands to hold up and recover. The resent assault from the Judiciary had destroyed the last of their armored and heavy weapons. This Meeting would really make or break what little resistance he and his group could offer.

-- He had arrived in a beat up Omicron Shuttle, stolen and beat up by content jumping from one base to the next. They had some ships, but it was their skills and contacts that they brought to the Rebellion. An arms dealer in the Core Worlds that could get them state of the art equipment. However, he needed to hear what they had to say so far. So far that was old conflicts and old Mandos, but he was too tired to really care. Just stood their against a beam that he used to support himself. He heard the complaints and could careless, many people would not know what to do with themselves and freedom.

-- The rag-tag armored individual sighed and whispered to himself. "Poor fools wouldn't know freedom if it walked right up and slapped them in the face, hell they might thank them and call it Lord."

[member="Keira Priest"] | [member="Okkuhm Rils"] | [member="Jada Raxis"] | [member="Atiniir Starrider"] | [member="Miri O'Hare"] | [member="Jaranamo Sal"] | [member="Theo Vereen"] | [member="Eldaah Aderyn"] | [member="Zyra Crowe"] | [member="Thal Mantis"] | [member="Chekīta Awaud"] | [member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Eldaah Aderyn]

So it begins she thought as the Mon Cal admiral [member="Okkuhm Rils"] and the... she wasn't exactly sure who this [member="Jaranamo Sal"] was or what his Galactic Triumvirate Federation was began speaking. The man had to be representing a small group because she didn't remember any intelligence briefings on any organization with that name. The Mon Cal on the other hand had earned himself a reputation during the fall of Mon Calamari to the Sith. It certainly lent this founding group a little gravitas.

One of the women she had saved from Arrakan, a smuggler she thought, sidled up to her and she gave the woman a small smile. She hadn't exactly asked why the woman had been on the Battrach and Duor's world, but she hadn't really questioned it either. Smugglers were always looking for jobs after all.

"It's no problem," she muttered to [member="Miri O'Hare"], accepting the mix of credits and pocketing them. "And I was thinking about it. Pay has to be good though."

She smirked as the woman made her comment about the Mandalorian men, not giving it a verbal response. There were quite a few Mandalorians about the place, not too surprising considering the ongoing conquest of former Mandalorian space and the occupation of their homeworld. She could feel a certain... vehemence from one of the Mandos towards her and Miri, a contempt for smugglers most likely. Helmets and armor didn't help with identifying who the Mandos were, but she was making sure to memorize armor color and voices. The Raxis woman made it nice and easy for her though.

"I'm not interested in foolhardy glory and wistfulness," she continued in an undertone.

[member="Gilamar Skirata"] [member="Drox Fuga"] [member="Keira Priest"] [member="Jada Raxis"] [member="Atiniir Starrider"] [member="Theo Vereen"] [member="Thal Mantis"] [member="Zyra Crowe"] [member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Miri O'Hare]

Miri shrugged.

"It beats the alternative. Sith are terrible to work with. Sure they pay but...I don't think I've had a single job from the Sith that I didn't regret later." Her voice got low, as if she was remembering some heavy burden she carried.

"But," she said, chippering right back up.

"You get used to the glory and wistfulness. Its a breath of fresh air every once in a while. Besides, like you said, the pay ain't half bad to move around a couple of guns here or a group of refugees there. Though I'm hoping to get in a little on the action." She put her hands behind her head lazily, ignoring the T-shaped death glare she felt but couldn't place.

"I wonder where they're gonna hid all these ships though."

 

[Pa'Kar Sang]

For a moment he thought he recognized the voice that spoke up, but tucked away the thought for later. She was right of course. After all, just before the fall of the Republic and the surprise resurgence of the Sith under their "One Sith" name, the Mandalorians were mere days away from out right war with the Republic despite having fought together and being loose allies during the first war with the Sith Empire. He'd seen many of their like fall in battle after battle with the Sith...

And now their most recent ally, the Sith, had betrayed them as well.

Trust with anyone was hard earned. With a Mando he felt it would be almost impossible. He took a deep breath, the ache of his aging prosthetics reminding him of his age and how long this war had been. He was no historian, but he knew that at one point the Mandalorians had united over 1500 major star systems without the use of violence and domination. He doubted those days would ever come again, but maybe they could be a part of something greater than themselves for the first time in nearly a thousand years.

"I understand," he said, omitting the name he thought he knew from the voice and left it at that. "Maybe one day the Mandalorians will find the strength of being with people you can trust amenable." Whatever this was, whatever it turned out to be was far, far in the future. He didn't mind uncertainty from anyone.

"As long as you allow us to help you take Mandalore back and in return...You lend us your strength. We don't win this without you." Arguably, the Mandalorians had the largest able fighting force in Sith Space. They were also one of very few that had the motive to strike out against the Sith.