Private ANVIL OF CONCORDIA: TRADE WITH [ME]

[Siv Kryze]

ANVIL OF CONCORDIA​

Objective: Trade - Location: Concordia

The air aboard the Anvil of Concordia was a carefully engineered cocktail of sensory inputs, each designed to project an aura of unshakable power and immense profitability. The station, a titan of durasteel and transparisteel forged in the orbital shipyards above Concordia, was the physical manifestation of the Project STARSHIP UPGRADE deal. It was no longer just a refit dock; it was a sovereign trading nexus, and its environment left no doubt about that.

The meeting was set in the Verd'okar Chamber – the "Iron View." Unlike the Neimoidian preference for opulent isolation, this room was a masterclass in psychological leverage. One entire wall was a single, vast viewport, offering a breathtaking, real-time vista of the industrial might below. The refineries were a constellation of controlled infernos, casting an orange glow on the pockmarked surface of Concordia. Tractor beams, like the threads of some colossal mechanical spider, guided raw ore into the maws of processing plants, while finished starship frames, sleek and lethal, were moved into position for outfitting. It was a silent, mesmerizing ballet of production, a constant reminder of what the Trade Federation was buying into.

The chamber itself was a monument to Mandalorian pragmatism and the new, hybrid economy. The central table was a slab of polished beskar-infused obsidian, cold to the touch and etched with subtle, glowing schematics of hyperlanes under Mandalorian protection. The chairs were not plush; they were forged from blackened steel and hard leather, designed for posture and alertness, not relaxation.

Holographic tickers, discreetly embedded along the table's rim, scrolled real-time data: production quotas from the refineries, security reports from patrols along the Hydian Way, and market values of Mandalorian-forged durasteel. The low, resonant hum wasn't just the station's systems; it was the deep thrum of capital being generated, a sound more pleasing to a Neimoidian ear than any symphony.

Most tellingly, positioned at the head of the table where Mand'alor would sit, was a second, smaller holographic emitter. It currently displayed a slowly rotating, crimson sigil – the emblem of the Imperial Confederation. It was a silent, powerful statement: this venture already had a major investor. The Moff's favor, won at the gala, had been converted into tangible stakeholdership. The Empire's credits and political influence were already woven into the station's infrastructure, a fact that would force the Trade Federation to either match the commitment or be left behind in a market now secured by two martial empires, not one

The environment didn't invite negotiation. It presented a finished equation. The terms were not to be haggled over; they were to be accepted for the privilege of participating in the most secure and productive economic engine in the sector.

Tag: Siv Kryze Aether Verd Lodd Grimmin

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[Lodd Grimmin]

Siv Kryze Aether Verd

The Mandalorian Empire represented a power that the Trade Federation had not yet infiltrated, not due to a lack of profitability, quite the opposite, as they controlled some of the most advantageous worlds from both military and economic perspectives.

Rather, it was their leadership that differed significantly from that of the Mandalorian Neo-Crusaders, making it difficult to ascertain their position on various issues such as free hyperspace travel, protection against piracy, and the commonly accepted practice of allowing corporations to operate freely.

He remained optimistic that the meeting aboard the Anvil of Concordia would offer the conglomerate crucial insights into these questions and provide him with extra revenue streams to outpace competing corporations and recover some of the anticipated losses associated with the development of the Empire's superweapon.

The magnitude of such an undertaking was profoundly disconcerting; however, a contract had been signed, and he was determined not to tarnish their reputation by withdrawing due to his personal discomfort. The atmosphere in the Verd'okar Chamber was frigid and clinical, designed to leave an impression on any visitor that despite the change in government, these were still Mandalorian warriors, comparable to numerous professional mercenaries.

His eyes traced the contours of the beskar-infused table then to the Imperial Confederation's symbol, ultimately resting on the two figures positioned before him: Warden Siv Kryze and Mand'alor the Iron Aether Verd , whose influence was steadily increasing as more territories rallied to his cause following each victory. His mechno-chair maneuvered into position at the table, signaling that the game was about to commence.

 

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

ANVIL OF CONCORDIA

The Mand’alor had arrived within the Verd’okar Chamber long before their Neimoidian guest, and though the chamber was purposefully designed to impress the Federation, his gaze was not fixed upon the viewport or the polished obsidian table. Instead, his eyes had drifted toward the Warden of Concordia, Siv Kryze. Trust was the foundation of the Empire’s governance, and Aether had always placed immense stock in those honored to lead the worlds beneath his banner. It was not enough for them to be administrators; they had to be architects of Mandalore’s future. On Concordia, that trust had been vindicated, for Siv Kryze had shown not only loyalty but initiative, cultivating opportunity where others saw only necessity. At the Imperial Confederation’s Gala, the Warden had stepped into the arena of commerce with a precision that rivaled any campaign of war, forging connections with key figures and planting the seeds of cooperation that had now brought the Federation into Mandalorian space.

This was the culmination of a path Aether himself had once resisted. He was born into a House that had no patience for dependence upon others. House Verd was a stock that leaned upon no outside hand, a line that would sooner forge its own arms than barter for them, sooner learn a skill through hardship than pay for it with coin. That self-reliance had served them well across the generations, and it remained a part of the Mand’alor’s marrow. Yet he had come to see that the future demanded more than isolationist pride. Aether sought a Mandalore that would endure, one that would not simply withstand the storms of the galaxy but thrive amidst them, and for that vision to hold he had to play the game of commerce that all great nations played. Trade routes were weapons as much as warships, and credits could accomplish victories no cannon could secure. To dismiss this reality would be to bind the Empire to the past, rather than carry it forward.

Thus the meeting upon the Anvil of Concordia carried a significance that could not be overstated. The hum of industry beneath the chamber was more than ambiance; it was the steady heartbeat of a people proving they could master not only the arts of war but the currents of prosperity as well. Aether sat within that sound, a figure tempered by tradition but not shackled by it, ready to take another step into a world his forebears had spurned. And when the mechno-chair of their guest maneuvered into position at the obsidian table, the Mand’alor rose with due respect, acknowledging both the moment and the man who had come so far to stand upon Mandalorian ground.

“I thank the Trade Federation for making this voyage.” he said, his voice carrying the quiet authority of one accustomed to command yet tempered by sincerity. “In coming to Concordia you do not merely visit a world, but a vision for Mandalore’s future.” He placed his hand firmly against his sternum, a gesture of introduction not only of himself but of the conviction he bore. “I am Aether Verd, Mand’alor the Iron. At my side stands Siv Kryze, Warden of Concordia, whose diligence and foresight have made this gathering possible. It is by his effort that this chamber welcomes you today.” With that, his hand extended in motion toward the Warden, ceding the floor without hesitation. For this was not merely his table, it was Mandalore’s, and Siv Kryze had earned the right to open its discourse.​

Siv Kryze , Lodd Grimmin

 

[Siv Kryze]

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ANVIL OF CONCORDIA​

Tag: Aether Verd Lodd Grimmin​

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Siv Kryze did not immediately move to fill the silence ceded by the Mand'alor. Instead, he allowed the chamber to speak for him, he measured hum of refineries below, the slow crawl of figures across the obsidian table's datafeed, the ever-turning sigil of the Confederation. When at last he spoke, his words were steady, assured, bearing the weight of both Concordia's mines and Mandalore's ambition.>>


"Viceroy," he began, inclining his head in measured respect, "you sit now not within an outpost nor a mere station, but within the Anvil of Concordia—a forge for the Mandalorian future. What you see beyond this viewport is not a display, but a statement. Here, raw stone becomes durasteel, and durasteel becomes starships. Industry itself has become our weapon, one no blockade can starve and no raider can plunder."


He shifted his stance, his gauntleted hand brushing the table's etched hyperlanes. "We Mandalorians are no strangers to power born of war. Yet even we recognize that fleets and blades cannot secure every victory. Trade routes, secured and defended, are weapons of their own kind—ones that enrich as much as they protect. What we propose today is not dependency, but partnership. The Federation brings unmatched experience in commerce, and Mandalore brings unmatched resolve to defend the arteries of that commerce. Together, we craft not only profit, but stability."


Siv's gaze held the Neimoidian's, the words that followed sharpened with conviction. "The Empire has already placed its faith in this endeavor, and its favor is carved into the very walls of this chamber. You may see this as pressure. I invite you to see it as an opportunity... an opportunity to stand with two empires whose banners do not fray, whose hands do not falter, and whose commitments do not waver."


A breath, and then he concluded with the gravity of one speaking for both his world and his people. "Concordia does not extend invitations lightly, Viceroy. To sit at this table is to share in Mandalore's prosperity, To shape the currents of trade across the Hydian and beyond. The choice is not whether there will be profit, the choice is whether the Trade Federation will claim its place in the market we have already begun to build."

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

Siv Kryze Aether Verd

Lodd now realized that this meeting was not intended as a negotiation, as the Trade Federation might have preferred, but rather a proposition that came with a heavy-handed ultimatum disguised as a choice. This might have unsettled some businessmen; however, it did not faze the Neimoidians, who had experience dealing with the Eleventh Sith Empire and the Kainate, both of whom were far more demanding in their negotiations and sought significantly greater concessions.

Warden Siv Kryze employed this strategy not to win a debate against him, but rather to ensure that he would not lose one, as the man detailed several points during his address. There would be no bickering over tariffs or quibbling over commercial freighter allowance, instead the Manda'lor and the Warden had created a stage and a script and he was expected to play the part down to the last detail.

"I appreciate the warm reception, Lord Mandalore Verd and Warden Kryze." The Neimoidian bowed his head in respect though mostly ceremonial. Lodd had to choose his words carefully.

The wrong move now would not only tarnish his reputation but could also have disastrous consequences for the Trade Federation's presence in the Outer Rim. His mechno-chair hummed softly, and his hands, for the first time since the development of the superweapon, felt clammy against the cool, polished metal of the armrests.

"Mandalore's future is indeed an inspiring vision, Warden Kryze," Lodd said, adopting the typical tone of his species. "and one that my colleagues and I are keen to be apart of in this sector of space. The Trade Federation has always believed that prosperity is the most effective weapon against instability."

Lodd paused, allowing his eyes to drift back to the obsidian table. He let his gaze linger on the Imperial Confederation's symbol, a stark reminder of the competition he was dealing with. Then, his gaze returned to the Mand'alor. "You have built an impressive Empire, Lord Mandalore. However we understand that even a great power such as yours is not truly impenetrable. History is littered with the ruins of civilizations that believed their own hype, that their commitment and resolve were all they needed to endure. The Trade Federation would like to assist you in avoiding such a fate if you would allow us to form an equitable partnership."

Lodd's gaze shifted to the Warden, a small, almost imperceptible smile playing on his lips. "You are right, Warden Kryze. The choice is not whether there will be profit. The choice is whether we will forge a partnership that is not built on intimidation and veiled threats, but on mutual respect and shared prosperity. So what are the exact details you are proposing?"

 

[Siv Kryze]

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ANVIL OF CONCORDIA​

Aether Verd Lodd Grimmin​

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"Viceroy," Siv inclined his head, tone respectful yet resolute, "you sit not in a hall of negotiation, but in the heart of a forge. The Anvil of Concordia does not deal in illusions. Here, ore is smelted, frames are assembled, and futures are hammered into shape. Every rivet below us, every quota on this table, proves that Mandalore has learned to make industry itself our weapon."


His hand traced the glowing hyperlanes etched into the table's face. "What we put before you is simple. A direct stake in this project—your credits tied to our steel, your future tied to our output. In return, the Federation gains what few others can claim: a guaranteed share of Mandalorian profit, and shipping rights exclusive enough to carve your name into the Hydian itself."


He straightened, gauntlet curling against the chair's hard leather. "More than that, your convoys will not merely pass through Mandalorian space—they will define it. With your commitment, this station becomes a Federation hub, guarded by Mandalorian fleets, prioritized by Mandalorian warbands, and shielded from threats both known and unforeseen. Piracy, blockades, raiders—none will breach what we swear to protect."


Siv's gaze locked on the Neimoidian, words sharpening like a drawn beskad. "But understand this is not merely profit—it is recognition. To move your goods through Concordia is to acknowledge Mandalore as what it is: a secure trade power, as constant in commerce as we are in war. The Empire has already placed its mark upon this Anvil. If the Federation joins it, then this station becomes more than steel and flame—it becomes the center of a new axis of prosperity."


A breath. Final words fell with the weight of beskar. "Profit will come, Viceroy. The question is whether it will come with your banner flying at its heart—or whether others will seize the place you hesitated to claim."

 

[Aether Verd]

Assets: Beskar'gam | Basilisk
Darksaber | Resolute Dawn​

ANVIL OF CONCORDIA

The Mand’alor inclined his helm slightly at the Neimoidian’s words, accepting the courtesy for what it was. Respect, even if ceremonial, had its place in this chamber. He did not mistake it for submission, nor did he need to. The fact that Lodd had come to Concordia, had sat at the Anvil’s table and spoken with care, was proof enough that Mandalore’s summons had been answered.

When the Viceroy spoke of arrogance and the ruins of civilizations that believed themselves beyond reach, Aether spoke with steady purpose. His voice carried not defiance, but conviction drawn from something deeper than bluster. “You are correct, Viceroy, to recall the downfall of those who mistook strength for permanence. Mandalore is not blind to such lessons. What you see here is not the arrogance of thinking ourselves untouchable, but the discipline of a people who have learned to temper iron through struggle. We do not claim to be unbreakable. We claim to endure, because we have broken before and risen stronger each time.”

He extended a gauntleted hand across the etched hyperlanes, his gesture reinforcing the words Siv Kryze had already spoken. “The terms outlined by my Warden are not his alone, they are the voice of Mandalore. A direct stake, a guaranteed share, rights that see your convoys to our routes that will be defended as if they were our own blood. This is no illusion of partnership. It is a promise backed by fleets, warbands, and the resolve of a people who do not abandon what they swear.”

Aether’s gaze settled firmly on the Neimoidian, not with threat, but with the unshaken steadiness of someone who did not need to posture. “You spoke of respect, and it is respect that defines this offer. We do not demand your banner out of fear, nor do we seek to strongarm your compliance. Mandalore does not coerce. We stand, and others choose if they will stand with us. The Empire has chosen. If the Federation chooses as well, then together we will fashion prosperity that neither blockade nor rival can erode. That is the difference between arrogance and vision, Viceroy. One assumes eternity. The other builds it.”​

Lodd Grimmin , Siv Kryze

 

[Lodd Grimmin]

Siv Kryze Aether Verd

Lodd had come to the conclusion that the Mandalorian Empire was no different from the Neo-Crusaders it professed to have no ties with, as they were merely mercenaries who had successfully created an illusion of legitimacy by taking advantage of a famine to gain power. Whether this famine was real or merely a public relations tactic, the Neimoidian could not determine, but he had witnessed this performance played out by the Sith and the Kainate and still managed to stay ahead of his rivals in the market.

His mechno-chair adjusted slightly as he carefully processed the Mandalorian's words. The proposal could essentially be summarized as providing protection in exchange for a tribute, which was reasonable but scarcely lucrative for the megacorporation, whose resources were stretched in numerous directions due to the conflict instigated by the Galactic Empire.

He looked from the Mand'alor Aether Verd to the Warden Siv Kryze . "Your resolve is as impressive as your rhetoric, Lord Mand'alor. And your ambition, Warden Kryze," he said, the words slipping from his tongue with a familiar cadence. "You have both made your positions exceedingly clear. The question, then, is not whether the Trade Federation will choose to stand with you, but rather, what the terms of our standing will be."

Lodd gestured toward the glowing data on the obsidian table. "You have offered a direct stake, a guaranteed share, and shipping rights. All of which are, of course, valuable in the abstract. But we, as you may have surmised, are not in the business of abstracts. We are in the business of numbers."

"So, what are the specifics? What is the exact percentage of this 'direct stake'? What is the guaranteed figure of our 'share'? And what, precisely, does 'exclusive enough to carve your name into the Hydian' mean in a contractual sense?" The Neimoidian was reluctant to engage in any agreement where the other party failed to provide specific figures, as this would create numerous opportunities for the financial records to become ambiguous and disorganized.

"Forgive my cynicism, Lord Mand'alor, but a promise backed by fleets is a good start. A contract with specific numbers and verifiable terms, however, is the only thing that will allow me to sell this to the Trade Federation's Board of Directors."

 

[Siv Kryze]

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ANVIL OF CONCORDIA​

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Siv stood with the ease of someone who had already weighed the outcome. "Then let's dispense with the theatre, Viceroy," he said, voice steady, carrying that familiar iron edge. "Mandalore doesn't build its word on ceremony. We forge it in contract and steel."


He gestured toward the holo-map of Concordia's orbit, where the Anvil's projection rotated in perfect, deliberate silence. "The Trade Federation's stake will be real, not ornamental. Twenty percent equity in the Anvil of Concordia, secured under Federation registry. The profit share is guaranteed from the station's gross trade yield, quarterly and enforceable by both our courts. You'll have your numbers, and they'll be as transparent as the transparisteel that holds this room together."


The projection widened, showing the lanes that spidered out from the station — the Hydian, the Rimward Spur, and the smaller arteries that fed them. "In exchange," Siv continued, "the Federation will commit to moving its shipments through our routes. Concordia will serve as your hub — the place where Core credits and Rim markets meet. In return, Mandalore grants the Federation exclusive priority rights across three major corridors. No independent line, no syndicate, no rival will move with equal privilege. You'll have control, and we'll guarantee protection — unbroken transit, no interference, and no hidden tariffs."


He turned slightly, the dark alloy of his armor catching the light. "Protection is not a word we use lightly. Every convoy that flies under your mark will be shielded by Mandalorian guns and fleets. Every port under your charter in this region will fall under our watch. If someone strikes at your cargo, they strike at us — and we respond with the same precision we would for our own clans. That's the promise, Viceroy. Not a symbol, but a guarantee enforced in durasteel."


The Warden's voice lowered as he stepped closer to the table, the holographic glow tracing the edge of his visor. "In return, the Federation will recognize Mandalore for what it has become — a sovereign trade power, a stabilizing force where the Republic and Empire have both faltered. You'll gain the routes, the security, and a fortress in orbit that bears both our names. Mandalore gains the recognition it's owed, and the lanes we guard will become the arteries that keep your profits alive."


He paused then, letting the hum of the Anvil fill the silence. "This accord stands for ten standard years, renewable, bound by mutual oversight. Breach it, and restitution will be immediate — financial or military. No fine print, no deceit. You'll find that Mandalorians do not hide their terms behind ink."


Siv inclined his head slightly, a faint rasp of metal against metal. "You came to us speaking of arrogance, Viceroy. What we offer you now is the opposite — vision. You bring the Federation's reach and resources. We bring the fleets that make it possible for those to move safely. Together, we carve certainty from a galaxy that has forgotten the meaning of it."


He let his final words strike clean, unhurried.

"Sign the accord, and Concordia becomes the center of trade the Rim has hungered for — a place where Federation wealth and Mandalorian strength forge something that will outlast both our empires. Refuse, and the Hydian remains what it is: open, bleeding, and waiting for someone less patient to claim it. The choice is yours, Viceroy. But the forge is already lit."

Tag: Aether Verd Lodd Grimmin​