Private &nbsp; Ba&#039;slanar, Kestri!

Varys Amun |

Zorana
Good'uns:

Tarw Rhyfelwr

Jenn Kryze · Jan 10, 2024

​
| Location | Docking Hatch

| Objective | Proceed with the handover

The sooner this business was behind them, the quicker they could take their leave, and escape from the sinking ship that was the Mandalorian Enclave. Jenn only hoped that they would be able to part without the need to open fire on Alliance soldiers. The last thing she needed was to bring attention to her and the rest of clan Kryze.

"I apologize, Senator", spoke the Alor as she beckoned the command squad to pile back into the gunship, as they prepared to head over to one of the smaller, more lightly-armed vessels the fleet had to offer. "It seems all we spoke of is now... irrelevant, as a result of my clan's departure. I wish things could have gone differently."
​
This was neither the first, nor the last time she would express such a sentiment today. But Jenn had no other choice than to make do with the cards handed to her, and those stacking the deck had little love in their heart for someone like her. A Reformer, to be sure, but unapologetically Mandalorian, and rightfully accused of great crimes as a result of her boarding in the Ans Corvo. A stain that would not quite wash off so easily. The reminder that blind obedience was not the Way.

Before long, they were away once again, escorted by a squadron of Xandu, and she was left to wonder what she would do with the armor. Now that they were cut off from the Enclave's significant industrial output, any advantage was a good thing: taking the beskar'gam for themselves and vanishing into the stars was an option offered to her... and with the misdeeds perpetrated by their vode, her clan might very well just agree with this course of action. But then, that line of thinking led her to another realization.

The Alliance thought they were dealing with the Enclave here, but the entire operation, sanctioned as it was by the Guildmaster, had been entirely engineered by herself. This tense handover would be a massacre, or a sign that diplomacy could still be achieved.

But it would not shine upon the Enclave. This achievement was hers, just as her exchange of lightsabers for beskar'gam with 

Valery Noble
had been made in secret - and thus, her responsability. Her victory. And if she allowed the Alliance to delude themselves into thinking that the Enclave would follow her example and play nice, they would only end up with justification to bomb them into submission when they inevitably met an outstretched hand with a beskad.

It was not long before they disembarked from the gunship and onto the small craft, and no matter how battle-hardened she was, the Alor felt a wave of anxiety rolling over her as they left the Mandalorian fleet and headed for a waypoint between their mighty ships, and those of the enemy. The docking process went off without a hitch: evidently, the captains of both ships were incredibly focused on their task, 'lest a slip-up start a bloodbath.

And then, the doors opened, and Henryk and Ko'Ren going first with their boarding shields at the ready, prepared to block a hail of blasterfire if needed. Behind them came Jenn, flanked by Zorana and Varys: Alicio was not far behind, and Ruusan closed the small procession with Yngvi. A studied approach, if nothing else. Once they were far enough inside for all of them to be visible to the Alliance's own forces, Jenn lifted her fist, prompting everyone to stop.

"Senator", called the Alor cooly as she turned her Y-visor towards the Galidraani with a nod of acknowledgement. Then, her helm turned towards the Mirialan, marking a pause. Amani's presence was hardly a surprise to her, Jedi or not: she had a right to see her husband home safely. And, Stars willing, the two would be back with Liana and August before long. "Master Jedi. I wish we could have met once more under more auspicious circumstances."

Now, for the part that was both... so very simple, yet incredibly delicate.
​

| Aliit | 

 Zorana

 Varys Amun

| Aruetiise | 

 Alicio Organa

 Amani Serys

 Natasi Fortan

 Tarw Rhyfelwr
​

Alicio Organa · Jan 14, 2024

Alicio's placid face twisted into a thoughtful frown as Jenn confirmed his suspicions. He clasped his hands tightly against each other, the motion hidden by the subtle folds of his cloak.

Jenn Kryze said:
"I apologize, Senator. It seems all we spoke of is now... irrelevant, as a result of my clan's departure. I wish things could have gone differently."

"Not irrelevant," the senator assured, though his soured expression didn't change. "But it does make finding peace more difficult if all the sensible ones leave." He twitched a small, ironic smirk, before letting his face smoothen once more.

The Alliance, it seemed, needed to get approval of his safety. The Count nodded, letting out a breath as the screen was turned his way. "Senator Fortan. Thank you for relaying my message." When it was turned Amani's way, all the Count could do was nod, a relieved, if mildly guilty smile on his face. Neither of them had planned for him to be away for so long. He'd never get back that time with his family. "See you soon," he murmured, almost as if he hadn't meant to say anything at all.

He had to remind himself that he was doing good work. That it all would be worth it, some day. That something would come from all this.

Alicio walked in the middle of the group of Mandalorians, as they travelled to the parley area. Of course, as soon as he saw the Alliance delegation, he froze in his tracks. Which was fine, because everyone else had, too.

He remained quiet, though it was obvious his patience was weakening

-

Amani Serys -

Zorana -

Amani Serys · Jan 15, 2024

Natasi seemed familiar with Jenn as well, though her reaction was more outwardly negative. It stood to reason, Amani supposed, given she and Alicio effectively switched places. But if the Mandos were to be trusted, the Count was treated well, and this deal would go through peaceably, "What was it like when you were with them?" Amani asked Natasi.

There was then an exchange between the two ships, including a process for the trade, and confirmation of the Count's safety. Amani stepped forward and felt her heart ease up, seeing him on screen, seemingly untouched. Her senses had told her as much already, but the sight to verify it brought relief. She read his lips, nodded, and finally formed a gentle smile, before the view left him once more.

Then, it was time to make things happen. Each side sent their delegations to the meeting point, Amani joining the Senator and her entourage of troops, waiting for the other side to reveal themselves. When the Mandaloraisn first appeared, there was a tense stretch of seconds while they filed into view, armored and prepared for the worst. But they didn't fire a shot, didn't make a move. So far, so good. Amani saw Alicio amongst all of them, and smiled again in his direction, mouthing a 'hey'.

Jenn Kryze said:
"Master Jedi. I wish we could have met once more under more auspicious circumstances."

Amani's expression flattened. "Alor Kryze," She looked back at Jenn, eyes piercing through the woman's visor as if she could see her face to face. Her feelings on this reunion were still mixed at best. The mirialan crossed her arms, "I think I made my feelings clear on us ever meeting again." There was a pregnant pause, then, "Luckily, we're not in Alliance space. I'd hate to keep my promise." She glanced at Natasi, and waited for negotiations to get underway.

Alicio Organa -

Tarw Rhyfelwr

Zorana

Varys Amun · Jan 16, 2024

Jenn Kryze said:
"There is but one path left open to us. To leave in search of a new home, where we will no longer be chained to the will of our wayward vode. There are some things that cannot be changed, and so it is the duty of a leader to look for the things which can."

Varys kept running through the words in her head. She had known that they were leaving. She had known that Jenn did not approve of the crusaders in the Enclave. But, Varys had not realised that meant they would be abandoning their vode. The Clan was not simply moving, they were running. That was all well and good for Jenn, she had a reputation, she was the Alor. Varys was nothing. What if she ended up on some backwater hole of a planet? It wasn't as if she had any choice where she went.

She felt the bump of the ship docking, bringing her back to the present moment. The door opened, and Varys entered, side-by-side with Zorana. Once inside, she picked a spot against the back wall, and regarded the Alliance party with curiosity. They stood so stiffly, their eyes wide and watchful, muscles tensed for action. For a moment Varys didn't understand why, then she realised. They were scared. Concerned for Alicio, yes, but also afraid of Jenn, Zorana, and even Varys herself.

Amani Serys said:
"Alor Kryze, I think I made my feelings clear on us ever meeting again. Luckily, we're not in Alliance space. I'd hate to keep my promise."

The shortest of the group, a Mirialan Jetii, spoke next. Her words were full of an indirect hostility, and after she'd said her piece the room seemed colder. If the meeting had been delicate before, the tension could now be cut with a knife.

It was at that moment that Varys decided she did not like what was going on here. She swallowed and shifted her weight from foot to foot uneasily, fighting the urge to reach for the comfort of the blaster at her side. If some sort altercation did break out, Varys would surely be killed, but if she was lucky she could squeeze off a shot or two. She decided that if it did come to that, she would shoot the green woman. She and Jenn had a history of some sort. Maybe the Alor would be pleased.

If there was one thing that was becoming clear to the young Mandalorian, it was that despite whatever Jenn said about their future, to the Alliance party, and maybe even Alicio, Clan Kryze remained enemies. So be it, that was simpler than the alternative, and Varys knew how to play the part of enemy.

Zorana

Natasi Fortan |

Tarw Rhyfelwr

Tarw Rhyfelwr · Jan 17, 2024

Location: GA Vessel
Outfit: Armour
Equipment: Blaster Rifle, Blaster pistols x2, thermal detonators x3, vibroblade
Tags:

Natasi Fortan |

Zorana |

Varys Amun

With his rifle held in his arms but his fingers clearly not on the trigger, Tarw was stating he was ready for any combat that the Mandalorians initiated but he was not seeking it. The soldier was smarter than to start firing and he would never instigate things by keeping a finger on the trigger of his weapon, that was asking for a fight. This was meant to be a simple exchange, as much as he despised the idea of honourless Mandalorians benefiting from actions like this. While beskar was the right of any Mandalorian, blackmailing for it was not the way to get it in his mind. From his time with his aunts, he believed that a Mandalorian deserved the armour when they fought for it, putting their life on the line for beskar. This was far from that ideal, however, he did not claim his Mandalorian heritage currently and he remained focused on what he was here to do.

Ensure the safety of the senators and Jedi Master.

Swallowing, he kept his thoughts and words silent, his hidden disapproval was fortunate since he doubted the Mandalorians would find what he had to say about their actions nothing short but a challenge. For now, Tarw simply observed, behind the helmet, his eyes watched everyone and he breathed in deeply. It seemed that while there was tension between both sides and it seemed that both the senator leading this operation and the Jedi Master knew the Mandalorian leading the exchange, there was not a positive history shared. The soldier could feel the tension in his body, ready for the short burst of adrenaline to pull him into action, for now he remained still. Reminding himself that things were still going smoothly, even if the tension between both sides was intense.

They just had to let the exchange happen and walk away. He could ensure that.

Natasi Fortan · Jan 17, 2024

Natasi looked over at

Amani Serys , her dark eyebrows furrowing. It would be hard for someone who didn't know her to tell if the look was angry or sad. She wasn't surprised by the question, but she had to take a moment to consider her answer. To examine the way she had been treated by the Mandalorians. Natasi had been concerned about painting too grisly a picture for a woman that might well be a widow as a result of her husband's captivity with the Mandalorians -- or, equally bad in her view, painting too rosy a picture to try to reassure her. It forced her to reckon with her experience in a way that felt uncomfortable just then.

She realized she was staring intently at Amani and softened her features, looking away demurely. "It was... not comfortable," she began cautiously. "But the violence was isolated to when Kryze attacked our ship and tried to apprehend myself and Senator Calgar." She flinched at the recollection; she could almost feel her cheekbone fracture under the deathly cold of a beskar-clad fist. "There were threats, of course, and she brought in some... thug ..to make it seem like they would torture me, but in the end, I was not harmed -- physically -- while in their custody. And though Mandalorians are, as a general rule, quite stupid, this group doesn't seem like the standard bunch. So my thought is that they recognize that your husband's stature is... well, rather different from mine. It would be counter to their purposes to harm him, which would undoubtedly drum-up even more fervent anti-Mandalorian sentiment in the Alliance."

Natasi paused, flexing her fingers in her gloves, and offered a confidential and somewhat sad half-smile to Amani. "I suspect Senator Organa came to the same conclusion. I hope you don't mind me saying, Master Jedi, that your husband is a remarkable man."

Then, soon and yet, an intolerable eternity later, there they all were. Natasi watched

Jenn Kryze carefully. Unlike the look she had given Amani -- uncharacteristically unguarded, even emotional -- this one was cold, her eyes like frozen mud rather than their usual rich dark amber. "Alor," she returned glacially, making no bones of her distaste for the title or its holder, and observed the exchange between Kryze and

Amani Serys . A disdainful smirk, almost a sneer, crossed her patrician features. "Making friends wherever you go, I see," Natasi said pointedly.

"Eight sets of armor," she said, gesturing to one of the crates. "As agreed. You may inspect them if you care to do so -- kindly indicate which crate or crates and our people will open them. If it's all the same to you I'd rather you not have access to a crowbar at present." A brief pause, then hse continued conversationally: "And once Senator Organa is with Alliance personnel and we determine he is unharmed, you and your... compatriots ...can take them off the ship and we can go our separate ways. Have you any questions? I did try to keep the process fairly straightforward." She didn't add: given Mandalorians' well-known intellectual capabilities.

She didn't need to.

Tarw Rhyfelwr |

Varys Amun

Zorana |

Alicio Organa

Jenn Kryze · Jan 17, 2024

​
| Location | Handover Point

| Objective | Check the integrity of the sets of armor

Jenn met that glacial gaze steadily, the Y-visor of her elegant helmet offering little for Natasi to read. And the woman behind it? Oh, she found herself rather conflicted, to be sure. Senators were insidious, scheming parasites, and the arrogant Galidraani fop before her was no different... but there was simply no denying the fact that the fault lie solely on her hands, not Natasi's. An unlawful order followed, a warning cast aside - twice, she refused to correct course, and now, she found herself accepting that she deserved such scorn. 

<Permission to wipe that look off her face, Alor?>

<Denied.>

<Well, it was worth asking.>

Jenn made a note to discipline Yngvi next time she got the chance for such flippancy in the middle of important negotiations... and yet, she allowed herself a rare smirk, nonetheless. No matter how tense the situation was, the Alor was confident in her sharpshooter's ability to hit a bullseye if she called it, and she found herself somewhat touched by the simple notion that one of her fiercest warrior was ready to repay a threat in kind. Evidently, Amani's words did little to help the warriors feel less on edge, and Natasi's icy gaze and condescending tone grated on their patience as well. For her part, the Alor ignored Natasi's comment entirely. That woman had more than enough reasons to hold a grudge for the boarding of the Ans Corvo, but this was neither the time nor the place for her to address the animosity of an aristocrat. Taking some time to look over the designates crates, she pointed towards one at random. 

"If you would kindly have your personnel open this crate, Senator Fortan?" came her polite request, before calmly walking towards it- as if she was not leaving the relative safety of being surrounded by her warriors, two of them bearing boarding shields. Every step she took spoke of confidence. In her quality as a talented smith of her people, she would ascertain a complete lack of foul play on the Alliance's part before letting them have a closer look at the captive Senator.

<Henryk, Ko'ren, block incoming fire and fry Alicio's brain if they try anything during my appraisal of the beskar'gam. Yngvi, they've got a big guy among them, I want him sniped before he becomes a problem. Ruusaan, focus high explosives on the Jedi. Zorana, Varys, you take care of the regular infantry. Keep your eyes peeled, my warriors.> 

Her orders were relayed calmly, in spite of the misgivings she felt when it came to breaking lovers apart. Alicio had proven to be a greater man than she had first thought over the course of his captivity within B'yaim Haar Cabur, but his life would never hold more worth to her than that of any of her clan - even more so when it came to Varys, her beloved daughter. No price was too great to keep her safe.

It was not long before she found herself face to face with the armor within, somewhat taken aback by the respect shown for the set before her. The cushioning was an unexpected touch: after all, why would she ever expect the Alliance to care if the armor rattled, thus damaging the paint? It was befuddling, perhaps, but she found herself appreciative of such a simple, yet meaningful gesture nonetheless. 

Before long, Jenn was too engrossed in her admiration of the suit of armor before her to really care about the world around her, her eyes roaming all over the surface of the battle-worn beskar'gam. Gray for a main color, with a conservative use of yellow for the few, but no less elegant details... and a Y visor, so much like her own. The Jaig Eyes were just as stylized as her own, eschewing the traditional Mandalorian shape for the honorific; this one had been an honored and respect warrior, perhaps even a leader like herself.

"I wonder what your last thoughts were", whispered the smith as she gazed into the Y-visor, as if it may very well hold the answer. Accessing the armor's on-board systems would be lengthy and difficult: identifying the name of this warrior would have to wait. For now, she merely looked over the rest of the armor, her fingertips gently caressing the spot below the shoulderpad where a blaster had found its mark. "I just hope you died for something."

With that, she turned towards the Alliance's side, mastering herself before a profound melancholy could settle over her. 

"The rest of the crates, Senator, if you would."
​

| Aliit | 

 Zorana

 Varys Amun

| Aruetii | 

 Alicio Organa

 Amani Serys

 Natasi Fortan

 Tarw Rhyfelwr
​

Amani Serys · Jan 20, 2024

Natasi Fortan said:
"It was... not comfortable,"

That alone told Amani plenty. She raised a palm to her mouth, brooding on Natasi's words in a manner much like Alicio would. In all likelihood he was fine, but the recognition of what the Mandalorians were capable of was enough to keep her on edge. And, in a backwards sort of way, the deferential treatment her husband received almost annoyed Amani. The Enclave was all too happy to raid a diplomatic vessel, attack its occupants, threaten one of them with torture, but only when an exchange was struck did they try to clean up their act. It felt fake, only made them seem more untrustworthy. If a more lucrative opportunity came along, what was stopping them from turning again?

Natasi Fortan said:
"...I hope you don't mind me saying, Master Jedi, that your husband is a remarkable man."

The mirialan finally chuckled, somewhat forced, but a chuckle nonetheless, "That he is." She nodded to Natasi, "Thanks for giving it to me straight." It would have been easy to try and sweeten up the image for her, but knowing what to expect was far more important than her comfort.

And just like that, mere moments later, the deal was underway. The Mandalorians had arrived in full, the two groups across from one another in a standoff, weighing the other's intentions. Pleasantries (if you could call them that) were exchanged, after which Amani largely kept to the side. Jenn didn't seem to acknowledge her any further, and the sets of armor were now being presented. Amani checked on Alicio often, as if looking away too long would make him suddenly disappear.

Alicio Organa -

Zorana

Alicio Organa · Jan 20, 2024

It was an odd sort of déjà vu, to be on this side of the negotiation.

After getting over the initial euphoria of seeing Amani, Alicio forced himself to focus on the matter at hand. The negotiations began... differently, than when he'd led them. When Alicio had been bargaining for Natasi's life, he'd worked very carefully to keep things cool in the hangar. Now, the temperature was notably higher.

The Count wouldn't interfere, not unless he felt he needed to. All he could do was hope emotions didn't boil over, on either side.

Alicio kept his gaze squarely on Senator Fortan and Alor Kryze, though once, his eyes did flick over, catching Amani's. He let his mouth flicker a smile. It's okay, he tried to convey. I'll be safe.

He would be. Even if negotiations broke down, and all eyes turned to him, Alicio would find his way to her.

-

Amani Serys -

Zorana -

Varys Amun · Jan 22, 2024

Zorana

Natasi Fortan |

Tarw Rhyfelwr

Varys was torn. Part of her was riding the wave of anxiety that accompanied the heightened tension of the exchange. That section of her brain told her to stay alert, tensed for any wrong move the opposing party made. Jenn's orders echoed through her mind and she committed them to memory, desperate not to disappoint her Alor should the most desperate of circumstances arise.

The other part of her attention was fixated on the armour. Jenn had gone up to inspect the first crate, and after a second or two to make sure she wasn't doing anything wrong, Varys had done the same. She carefully followed Jenn's lead, picking a crate and waiting anxiously as a member of the Alliance delegation opened it for her. Varys' skin prickled uncomfortably watching the Alliance party handling the crates. When the lid was removed, her discomfort gave way to awe.

The crate smelled strongly of metal when opened, revealing a set of beskar'gam with a wide visor and thick beskar plates, each lovingly etched with a flowing wave pattern. The armour was devoid of paint, and instead the metallic surface shone with the many colours of heated steel. The armour was in fine condition, if slightly dirty. What might have befallen this warrior, leaving behind no signs of damage? Varys leaned in closer, puzzled. The strong acrid smell assualted her senses. She reached out and wiped a finger across the armour's chestplate, cogs turning in her mind. The armour was not dirty, it was covered in a layer of fine ash. This Mandalorian had been incinerated.

Anger stirred in her gut. This person's armour should have been returned to those who cared about them. How could the Alliance have held on to these sets as bargaining chips? Had they no respect for the ways of Mando'ade? Varys supposed not, and she reasoned that since the Alliance had little so respect for Mandalorians, they would have no qualms about making the most of the salvaged armour. Still, it pained Varys to imagine their soldiers roughly removing a fallen vod from their armour without ceremony, taking it as a trophy. Truly, they possessed a perverted sense of honour.

"Ni su'cuyi, gar kyr'adyc, ni partayli, gar darasuum. I am still alive, but you are dead. I remember you, so you are eternal. Rest now, warrior."

Solemnly, Varys moved on to the next crate, inspected its contents, and repeated her phrase. Once she had finished, she stepped back and nodded curtly to Jenn. Whatever her buir was planning still lay ahead. Varys didn't know quite what the Alor intended to do with their Alliance counterparts, or how that would shape their future. That uncertainty made her stomach turn.

Her job done, Varys stepped back and let out a shuddering breath. She would be very glad when this was over.

Zorana · Jan 22, 2024

Zorana stood quietly as she observed the room. She wasn't swept up in the emotion of lovers finally seeing each other, nor did she allow the reveal of Beskar to shake her. Each set represented a brother or sister who had been lost in combat, and while that could easily anger her in most situations, she kept herself calm and composed for now. Through the comms within her helmet, Zorana took note of Jenn's orders, and watched closely.

One wrong move while she observed, and this room would be littered with bodies.

<Is it all there?>

Part of her had been tempted to walk over to the crates and inspect them as well. But from a tactical viewpoint, she knew it was better to stay in the back. Keep their numbers spread and have at least one capable warrior on overwatch. That's where she excelled, so that's where she would be with a cold, analytical gaze.

The sooner this was over, the better.

Natasi Fortan

Natasi Fortan · Jan 22, 2024

Natasi circulated as something of a shadow to

Jenn Kryze , her slender form in contrast to the Mandalorian's armored frame. The Senator let her walking stick punctuate her steps, her dark eyes tracing her movements. One of the soldiers went along with them, forming an unlikely trio, with the soldier levering open the crates as the Mandalorian indicated the ones she wanted to see next. Leaning on her stick, she observed warily as another Mandalorian examined the contents of the crates, too. She glanced to one side and one of the guards gave a subtle nod; he was keeping an eye on them.

Finally, all the crates were open, all the beskar'gam laid bare to their eyes. Natasi dared one of the savages to raise a complaint as to the armor's state and packaging. If they had their just desserts, they'd be getting their armor in extra-heavy-duty black rubbish bags. Instead, they had been gently handled, packed so the pieces wouldn't rub together and damage the finish, and stored with care in sturdy crates.

She took a breath and silently blew out the tension. There was an atmosphere here, and the sooner the situation was resolved, the better they would all be. Natasi wanted to get Senator Organa and get him back to Alliance space as soon as possible. Then she could marinate in her rage about the Mandalorians.

"Alor," Natasi finally said, trying not to let her impatience and frustration show in her voice. "Eight sets of beskar'gam, as per the agreement you made with Senator Organa. I daresay even you would concede that these sets of armor are legitimate, well-cared for -- to the extent that it was practicable -- and in tact. I'll thank you to hand over Senator Organa now, unless you need these gift-wrapped?"

This was a slightly pointed remark, meant to point out the absurdity of such a request, but as soon as she said it Natasi wondered if due to the -- shall we say -- cultural distance, the Alor might take her seriously.

Zorana |

Varys Amun

Amani Serys

Tarw Rhyfelwr |

Alicio Organa

Jenn Kryze · Jan 22, 2024

​
| Location | Handover Point

| Objective | Release Alicio Organa

Pride welled in the Alor's chest at the sight of her daughter joining her to inspect the sets of armor, resting her eyes upon them, appreciating the meaning behind each and every last piece of beskar... and yet, she found herself frowning when she sensed her child's anger, only for her to realize that this was all so very new to Varys. Jenn, for her part, had seen a truly depressing amount of armor being brought to her on Hefi in the wake of each and every engagement, grieving family members asking her to refurbish the armor, reforge it, and sometimes simply melt it down. The tragedy of a sibling in beskar's passing was known to her, and intimately so. ​
​
And when the words of remembrance were uttered by her dearest Var'ika, the Forgemistress brought a hand to rest upon her shoulder, practically beaming with pride - in spite of the undeniable tension of such a moment, with Natasi Fortan so close by and leaning against a walking stick. A reminder of just what her misplaced pride had caused, perhaps, and yet... how could she be anything but proud of her child, when she showed such respect for those who had passed on?​
​
Varys' nod was met with one of her own. A simple sign of acknowledgement, but meaningful nonetheless: a wordless affirmation, yet another assurance that her child had done well. Zorana's voice filtering over the private comms roused her from this moment, however. <Confirmed. The sets do not appear to have been sabotaged or otherwise tampered with. We will send each one back to their respective clan once I can conduct a more thorough assessment.>​
​
And with that, she turned to face the one whose enmity she had so tragically earned through her own actions. A spineless politician who never quite failed to make her blood boil, perhaps - but, more than that, a royal who met the conditions of her own imprisonment with dignity and aplomb. Natasi was a frustrating woman to compartmentalize into those little neat boxes she kept of what a person meant for her. ​
​
Her stance betrayed nothing of her thoughts, even as that Y-visor of hers seemed to stare a hole through the woman before her. "That will not be necessary, Senator Fortan", answered the Forgemistress coolly with an upnod towards her command squad. "You have upheld your end of the bargain. It is time for me to do the same." And with that, she walked on back towards the small, if well-armed gathering of Mandalorians, walking past Henryk and Ko'ren until she stood before Alicio. ​
​
For a moment, silence hung in the air, and she thought of what she might say to him. To her immense surprise, he had proven to be a gifted diplomat blessed with that which most politicians seemed to lack: sincerity. Even now, she wondered if she would face retribution from his loved ones for holding him prisoner... a thought that was, she realized, irrelevant. Soon, clan Kryze would disappear, far beyond the reach of those who would take them from the path they chose to tread. ​
​
"Go", she finally uttered, stepping aside and extending her arm towards the Alliance side of the exchange, as if showing him the way politely - and getting the two heavily-armored guards in the way to stand aside as well, adopting something resembling a parade rest. "Be with your family. And live well."​
​
Alicio deserved to go home. Amani deserved to have her husband back. Liana and August deserved both of their parents at home with them. Just as Natasi deserved to never have to face a Mandalorian again in person.​
​
The warriors of the clan deserved a leader who would take them towards wisdom and honor, rather than glory and infamy. And, above all, Varys deserved a mother who would never put the clan before her.​
​



| Aliit | 

 Zorana


 Varys Amun


| Aruetiise | 

 Alicio Organa


 Amani Serys


 Natasi Fortan


 Tarw Rhyfelwr
​

Alicio Organa · Jan 25, 2024

Alicio, oddly enough, may have been the calmest one in that hanger.

Not to say he was calm, per se. The Alderaanian senator was focused, coiled up like a spring, ready to do what he could to make sure everybody walked out alive. But comparatively, to the bristling Mandalorians, Natasi's barbed comments, and Amani concerned with her husband's well-being, he was downright tranquil.

Though another flicker of a frown possessed him, listening to Senator Fortan's inflammatory comments. She was owed them, though, and Jenn seemed to think the same, as she took the words on the chin, and continued.

Soon, the state of the armor was assessed, and Jenn was before Alicio, for what could have been the last time. Alicio studied the owl-shaped helm, remembering the face underneath. The kindness. The strength. The Protector.

Jenn Kryze said:
"Go. Be with your family. And live well."

Alicio paused a moment, considering the pathway back to the Alliance, before turning back to Jenn. He extended a hand, as if to shake. "I hope you find what you're looking for."

Then, whether she accepted his hand or not, Alicio turned to walk to the delegation. To his fellow Senator.

But first, he walked to Amani.

-

Amani Serys -

Zorana -

Amani Serys · Jan 26, 2024

Despite the tension, it seemed both sides would be getting what they wanted. The Mandalorians had a chance to inspect the armor, and with the condition satisfactory, Alor Kryze granted Alicio his rightful freedom. Amani watched the exchange tensely, her gaze locked on the Count's outstretched hand, waiting in what felt like slow motion for him to part from his captors' side once and for all.

At last, Alicio turned, crossing the gap and making a beeline for his wife. She met him with open arms, hugging him tightly for a few long seconds, regardless of whatever decorum was supposed to be maintained for an operation such as this. "About time," She chuckled quietly, "The kids are getting tired of me making dinner." Reminding herself of where they were, Amani eventually stepped aside, waiting to see if the negotiations were well and truly over.

Alicio Organa -

Zorana

Natasi Fortan · Feb 6, 2024

Natasi was conscious of the need to let a man and wife reunite in whatever privacy could be allotted to them under the circumstances, so she waited, looking coolly at Alor Kryze, dark eyes wary but not outright hostile. Finally, the Senator approached

Amani Serys and

Alicio Organa . "Forgive me, but -- I'd like to confirm that you're well, Senator, before we make the exchange. Have they harmed you in any way?"

He didn't look any worse for the wear, but looks could be deceiving, certainly. Natasi hadn't had any bruises or broken bones when Alicio's efforts had freed her, but that wasn't the same as being treated well. She glanced at Amani, an apologetic smile crossing her lips briefly -- sorry for interrupting -- and once the matter of Senator Organa's wellbeing was confirmed, she turned back to Jenn.

"Go ahead," Natasi said coolly. "Do feel free to keep the crates."

She folded her hands around the head of her cane and watched the Mandalorians. Damned if they thought she was going to help them move their ill-gotten gains like some kind of manual laborer.