Private Cold Vista

[Arris Windrun]

ALDERAAN
Aether Verd​

Somewhere in the snow-capped mountains overlooking Aldera was an estate ostensibly owned by House Rist - a retreat during the hot months that hasn't been touched in years. Still, it was in pristine condition, carefully maintained by an all-droid staff.

The estate was accessible only by airspeeder or shuttle, and on the landing pad was a simple shuttle with no distinct markings or weapons. A ship suitable for intersystem travel and little else. There was also room for one more ship, no larger than a light freighter.

It was a cool afternoon under a clear sky, with the heat of Alderaan's star providing a subtle warmth. Inside, the estate was rustic... or at least, a rich person's idea of rustic; a lot of wood, stone, and precious metal. And there was no one home, save for the automated staff, which didn't seem to mind having visitors. A protocol droid would usher the Mandalorian leader towards the back and onto an overhanging balcony, with a nice view of the city skyline at the edge of visibility.

Arris Windrun was waiting for him. A neat raven bob with thick strands that fell around her face and neck, over pale synthflesh that didn't really give the impression that she was trying to blend in with the full 'ganics anymore. As if that was the thing to give it away, besides. That flesh and skin ended right where the jaw and neck met. Below that was a whole complexion of black metal and flexible fibers. Many people thought she was your standard HRD at a glance. But in the Force? She was touched every which way by darkness and had either lacked the means or interest to hide it.

Oh yeah - and there was no need for clothes. Wasn't anything to hide; just cybernetics and flexible armor plating, which resembled a detailless feminine form. Nah, the only thing Arris Windrun wore right then was her gunbelt with revolver-laden holsters.

She was smoking a cigarette, letting each drag smoothly escape her artificial lungs through mouth and nose. The cyborg looked over her shoulder when the door onto the balcony opened. Grey eyes (too lifeless to be real) gave him a cursory glance before she turned back to the vista.

"I hope you don't mind," she said. "But I can put it out. Unless you'd care to join me?"

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Armor - Darksaber - Mask of Mandalore
.​

ALDERAAN

House Verd had no love for Alderaan.

Not since, a lifetime ago when its resident Organas used Mandalore as a bargaining chip. The insult was one that left a sour taste in the mouth of many vode. In those days, the planet was a jewel in the crown of a Galactic Republic? Now? It teetered on the edge of being consumed by a Covenant of Sith. Aether wouldn't pretend not to be amused by this twist of fate.

As his personal Kom'rk-type Fighter/Transport descended from on high, the Mand'alor's mind shifted to the matter at hand: introductions. When the Core was wrested from the hands of the Alliance by the Empire, there was no communication with Mandalore...save a Death Star-shaped gun pointed at the Galaxy's head. Yet now? Darkness gripped Coruscant, Tython, and numerous other bastions of the Light.

Once more, Aether wouldn't pretend not to be amused by this twist of fate.

Promptly, he descended once his vessel touched down, only to be met with a droid. It rendered a polite bow before ushering further into the estate. As was to be expected, the Mand'alor wore his typical beskar'gam of charcoal hue, with a crimson cloak which trailed in his wake. As for his buy'ce, its dim hue was interrupted by the Mask once donned by his forebears.

Thus, when all creation looked upon him, the legacy of the Galaxy's finest warriors stared back.

The one who awaited him was...a curious sight. And her words were casual, devoid of the pomp and circumstance one might experience when dealing with politicians. As for her question, the Mand'alor simply shook his head.

"No thank you," he began, "But please, don't stop on my account."

He came to a halt a few paces away from the cybernetic woman, regarding her with a nod.

"Suffice it to say...Mandalore is listening."

Arris Windrun

 

[Arris Windrun]

Aether Verd
​

His answer amused her. Arris turned around, resting her back against the railing, gaze tilted in his direction. She took another drag - a smirk lingered.

"And what has Mandalore heard?" She asked.

Her eyes drifted not-so-subtly along the Beskar-clad man, exploring the armor, the helm, and the slightly billowing red cloak. Truthfully, she knew little about the person underneath. But what did she know?

"If you're trying to go against my brother, I'll kill you."

Probably the important bit.

That was the kind of response that separated leaders from pretenders, and knowing Ace, it was a respect that went beyond blood relations. Didn't mean she was about to trust this man with her life, though, even if she did value Acier's word (even the naivety) like a vault filled with gold. Was a kind of precious quality of those bleeding hearts who kept their mouths shut most of the time. A decent shame that she never told him as much.

"Arris Windrun, by the way." Just in case her name wasn't included in the memo. "Mind if I ask dumb questions?" First one out the gate.

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Armor - Darksaber - Mask of Mandalore
.​

ALDERAAN

The Mand'alor's visor followed the woman's movements.

Her question was loaded to say the least. Having never met her before, Aether did not know how many cards she had up her sleeve, nor how many she was willing to put on the table. However, her demeanor - and the lovely lack of honied words - encouraged the Mand'alor to be a touch forthcoming in his response. Just a touch.

"That...When the Galactic Empire claimed it would rule the cosmos, it wasn't long until a lot no one saw coming appeared and stomped their jaw."

While Aether didn't know the finer details of what all had transpired, history would reflect as much was his presumption. He then folded his arms, assuming a more comfortable posture.

"A pleasure, Arris. Aether Verd." His words were uttered alongside a polite nod of acknowledgment. Then to her question: "You're the first to ever ask...that...By all means, fire away."

Typically the saying went "there was no such thing as dumb questions" but in the current day, who knew?

Arris Windrun

 

[Arris Windrun]

Aether Verd
​

The cigarette burned slowly between her fingers as she thought back to the Galactic Empire.

"Ah. That. Yeah. Some old men need to learn to finish fights before they start them."

Not many people knew it. The entire reason this band of nobodies rose to claim the Core and become the subject of Jedi fearmongering and senatorial debates? It was just because Solipsis was a walking definition of starting his own problems, and the Sith Covenant was respectful enough to close out for him. It was actually a shame those Jedi never bothered to fucking go to Coruscant and ask.

Didn't mean the Covenant wasn't gonna enjoy their spoils, however. Or that they were good people if such a universal definition existed at all.

Folded arms? She wondered if that meant he was comfortable. Arris hated that she couldn't read his face right about now.

"Aether," she chewed on his name.

His follow-up tugged at that little smirk of hers.

"I just gotta get it out of the way. You wouldn't know anything about Mandalorians attacking Humbarine, would you?"

Ace said it wasn't him. She believed it. But she knew Mercy would want it from the Rancor's mouth.

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Armor - Darksaber - Mask of Mandalore
.​

ALDERAAN

When Arris spoke, Aether's thoughts went back to the declaration made by the Galactic Empire. That they would purge the cultural centers of the Galaxy and conquer everything - from Rim to Rim. The woman's words spoke true: some men needed to learn to finish fights before they start them. For, in the blink of an eye following the declaration, there was a Covenant on Coruscant.

He didn't say anything in response to the woman's words on that front. Instead, he simply nodded. Aether imagined that they weren't here to kick the can around about the Covenant's origins. There were far more interesting questions to navigate.

Namely, the supposedly "stupid" one...which ended up not being stupid at all.

"If you'll pardon the word play, I know they're a...different Covenant." came his answer. "Their midst doesn't answer to me, the Resol'nare, or Mandalore for that matter. They're a generation charting their own course. I thought they were more southern, but I see that they've decided to introduce themselves to the Core."

He then motioned towards her with his dominant hand, readying a "dumb" question of his own.

"What's your measure of them? Are they strong?"

Arris Windrun

 

[Arris Windrun]

Aether Verd
​

A different Covenant? Now that just felt cryptic, but it didn't really matter to her.

He answered her question, and that satisfied at least one big curiosity she brought to their little meeting on the mountain.

To confirm that they came from the south also reinforced a hunch of theirs based on the fleet's hyperspace wake. But that still didn't narrow it down with how many countless stars there were, and the astronavigational mess left by the Planeshift not wholly resolved.

Arris was ready to take another drag until his question gave her pause.

"Well - they caught us with our pants down." Interrupted their coup of the Humbarine Governorate. She finally took that smoke just to buy a few more seconds of thought. "Came with a whole fleet and boots on the ground. They certainly knew how to fight, lost a lot of lives, even with the advantage, but fought hard."

The breeze picked up, scattering the packed ashes off the end of her cigarette.

"So yeah. They're strong, but so is an akk dog." She gestured to the snowy peak. "So is this mountain."

She finished the cigarette and put the roach out on her leg.

"If you'd ask me: 'Which are they, the mountain or the dog?' I'd reply: 'Drop the hammer and grab a bone.'"

She scowled at the words as they left her lips.

Probably should've just stopped at 'yeah.' But then again, she wasn't one of those bleeding hearts who kept their mouths shut most of the time. And besides, context mattered. Speaking of...

"I'm curious. Why did you ask that?"

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Armor - Darksaber - Mask of Mandalore
.​

ALDERAAN

So, the Iron Covenant weren't pushovers.

A surprise assault was certainly the best way to make a play at any adversary. And Arris painted a brief, yet vivid picture of how they brought war to Humbarine. As for his more pointed question, she answered in a way that was both straightforward and poetic in equal measure.

Aether nodded, watching as she finished the cigarette. He had become somewhat accustomed to the state of the Galaxy, where his people were scattered across enclaves, coverts, and other holdings. While most Mandalorians had flocked to the Empire, so many chose to live away from Mandalore. So many chose their own path and broke with centuries of tradition.

But what mattered to Aether wasn't how many Mandalorians knelt before him. What mattered most was survival. Did their people have the strength to stand defiant in the face of whatever the Galaxy threw at them? Could they truly call themselves the mightiest warriors in the cosmos? Aether had an answer when it came to his own, and Arris helped give him an answer for the rest.

"Ever since Mandalore was occupied by Sith fifty years ago, our people have been scattered across the Galaxy. I ask...so that I know if those who choose to live beyond our homeworld have the strength to survive the hells of today."

He completed his thoughts with a simple nod.

"I imagine, however, that you didn't want to meet to only discuss them?"

Arris Windrun

 

[Arris Windrun]

Aether Verd
​

His answer wasn't what she expected. But then again, she didn't belong to a culture like his. The world Arris Windrun grew up in was one where Syndicates treated lives not with welfare, but as just another numerical in their cold arithmetic. A resource. An expenditure in the game.

But he was right. On them, she had an answer to her one question, and it was not ultimately why they were both here.

"Yeah - the Sith Covenant, the Core, is open for business. And Mercy will want a more formal conversation, so let me know what I should tell her, so I can arrange... What do those fucking corpos say? 'Next steps?'

"But for now, you and yours are welcome in our space. That isn't an invite to bring fleets or armies though... Might have to start putting signs up, y'know? Oh, and one last thing: we're tax collectors, not custodians. Each world will still have its own laws and customs."

Arris reached for her holster, drawing a pack of cigarettes tucked inside. She plucked one out with her mouth and stuffed the pack back down.

Her eyes flicked to his wrist. "Actually... I think I still owe ya that dumb question. Got a light?" She grinned with the cig between her teeth.

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Armor - Darksaber - Mask of Mandalore
.​

ALDERAAN

The Core being "open for business" was a very promising development. Ever since the Mandalorian Empire came on the scene, the Core remained elusive to their trade. The Galactic Alliance did not hire mercenaries whatsoever. The Galactic Empire made an enemy of Mandalore in its first thirteen seconds of life. Yet the Covenant? That was a brand new market just waiting to be tapped.

"I know my warriors will be very happy to bring their craft to the Core. Thank you for the invitation." he began. "As far as next steps are concerned, if this Mercy individual is open to a meeting sooner rather than later, I'm happy to visit your capital from here."

He'd have to make sure any enterprising mercenaries knew to treat the worlds of the Sith Covenant as individual entities, and not a unified nation. That would honestly make life easier. Many more opportunities to haggle.

Then, when Arris asked for a light, Aether's eyebrow rose from behind his helm. He found her gaze upon his vambrace and chuckled lightly. "I wouldn't call that one a dumb question." came his answer. Aether then took a step closer and raised the nozzle of his flame projector. He carefully directed a modest column of fire to erupt into the air - plenty enough to dip the end of a cigarette in.

Arris Windrun

 

[Arris Windrun]

Aether Verd
​

Arris leaned carefully towards the fire until it ignited the end of her cigarette. She quickly took a drag to keep it going.

"Thanks, Aether."

But now she wondered who set such a high bar for dumb questions. Oh well - 'I guess I have a debt now,' she mused to herself.

Back to business. Arris turned her head back to the building, but her mind only saw the landing pad.

"I'm sure she'll be thrilled to see you right away." Her dry tone and lackluster expression (An Arris Windrun speciality) left her meaning ambiguous. She looked at him again. "Your choice, then. You can leave your ship here and join me on the shuttle, or follow me in."

Arris figured her offer was worth elaboration. "There's a Republic fleet in deep space - it's possible their long-range scanners will flag that fancy flyer of yours when we jump." As far as she knew, traffic between Alderaan and the rest of the Covenant space was being sniffed.

She kept smoking while he considered.

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Armor - Darksaber - Mask of Mandalore
.​

ALDERAAN

To the woman's gratitude, the Mand'alor simply rendered a nod before extinguishing the flame. He had used the armament for many things up until this point, but lighting a cigarette was a new one.

From there, he listened to the options that were laid out before him. The implications of his vessel being detected by the High Republic were indeed not lost upon him. Despite this, his response was simple:

"Mandalore hides from no one."

With his intent to take his own shuttle to meet Mercy known, Aether continued - his tone a bit lighter now.

"Are we headed to Coruscant? I've never actually been before..." He paused, as if debating asking the question that occurred to him.

"Is it actually haunted? Or is that just an old wives' tale?"

Arris Windrun

 

[Arris Windrun]

Aether Verd
​

His answer surprised her. Second time he's done that now, but she wondered... Was it really just an act of principle?

"Then you'll follow me in," she said and walked with him through the estate and back to the landing pad.

But she slowed a step when he surprised her a third time. Coruscant, haunted? She didn't laugh or even smirk at the question, just gave him a look. Could've been confusion. Or deep thought. The cigarette burned idly between her fingers.

"If it wasn't before, it is now. But we won't actually be setting down on the planet. Mercy rules from..." She sighed, rolling her eyes at what she had to say, "... Throneworld." What a stupid fucking name. Mercy knew it, too. Literally named it that to annoy Arris.

The droids were up to the same-old, same-old, but when Arris passed, there was just a slight change, as if they were each a little smarter; better. She stepped out the other side, where their two ships sat. She flicked the cigarette between them.

"Don't get lost now," she teased before climbing into her ship.

The cyborg took off, and before departing the system, she broadcasted a flash of fake transponder codes that (with a bit of creative interpretation) spelled out a series of derogatory expletives directed at the Republic.

CORUSCANT
THRONEWORLD
​

Her shuttle flashed into realspace at the edge of Coruscant. A fleet of heavy warships, led by three command dreadnoughts, formed a defensive blockade to control the inflow of system traffic. But it was that gaudy thing with its skylift descended like an anchor in low orbit that really drew attention: Throneworld - Seat of the Empress.

Arris had transmitted details of her conversation ahead of their arrival, so Mercy would know what's up.

She hailed Mand'alor's ship. <"Just stay on me, we're almost there.">

Though Arris hated doing so when she was there on her own, she elected to take the tram straight to Mercy's hall.

She'd glance at Aether a few times in silence, once again annoyed that she couldn't read his expressions. Thankfully, she was able to keep her own in check - lacking organic nerves had some benefits - but Arris was anxious. Though Triumvirs they were, Mercy was the face of the Covenant, and a deeply unpredictable woman at times.

The tram stopped, she got out, and Throneworld threw open the doors, and there on the other end was she: Mercy Star-Arm.

"I think it's better if you introduce yourself," she said on the low. "We're not big on procession around here." Though you wouldn't fucking know it by looking.

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Armor - Darksaber - Mask of Mandalore
.​

CORUSCANT

The Mand'alor, wordlessly, followed the android through the estate and out towards the landing pad. And as they moved along, his gracious host answered his question regarding Coruscant. Aether was about to voice a small modicum of disappointment that they wouldn't be meeting on the planet itself. After all, he would have loved to see the infamous "birthplace of democracy."

But one word gave him pause and he repeated it with confusion tinging the syllables.

"Throneworld?"

He surmised he'd just have to see what Arris meant by this when they arrived. In the meantime, he entered his Kom'rk and took to the skies in her wake. His own transponder was far less creative. It was simply iron.

***​

After reverting into realspace, a low whistle escaped the Mand'alor. It didn't take a genius to understand what the Throneworld was. And as their vessels neared, one thought rattled within the Mand'alor's helm:

Man, I gotta get me one of those.

Once landed and inside, Aether was the picture of silence. He stood behind Arris, hands folded behind his back. Of course, his eyes were darting every-which-way as they moved, taking in the sight of the Sith Covenant's seat of power. In time, the doors of the tram parted ways and before them stood a rather striking figure.

Aether stepped forward, nodding to Arris as he passed. He held his peace until he was within arm's reach of the titanic woman.

Then, his introduction was heralded by the extension of his sword arm in greeting:

"I am Aether Verd, Mand'alor. Your partner shared that you would like a formal conversation..."

"Mandalore is listening."​

Arris Windrun , Mercy

 

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: THRONEWORLD | Tags: Arris Windrun Aether Verd​

.

For once the Mountain was not lounging when guests arrived in her halls to meet with her. Instead she stood at the steps that led towards the Throne beyond her. Forged from Tapani aurodium, Imperial steel and the opulent wealth of the Core. It was grotesque, as if someone had symbolically ripped societies apart just to stitch them back together into a shape more pleasant for them.

Much like Throneworld itself.

She watched them approach, focusing on the Mand'alor as he spoke to introduce himself. Mercy looked better now. In the aftermath of Humbarine she had been horribly burned and ripped apart. She had missed an eye, half her face melted off. But somehow the Sith looked fine now, more scars, yes. But not the image of someone who had almost died to keep Srina Talon alive.

"Mand'alor the Iron... I am Mercy, Core Empress." Mercy murmured lightly as she inclined her head. "The Blackwall Empress speaks of you. She tells me you are bold, brave and with an indomitable will that allowed you to bring back together the People who have been broken and shattered so many times before. Wise in ways his predecessors were not."

She smiled, teeth sharpened like a predator, perfect to rip one's throat out.

"So it was surprising to me to find beskar'gam-wearing hoodlums in my backyard, fucking things up and making a mess." Her gaze flicked back to Arris for a moment.

"But Arris tells me this was a different group, who don't accept your authority." Amber eyes went back to Aether again. "She also tells me she likes you and wants to see our people work together, since we have so much in common. A love for a good fight and an inability to leave challenges unanswered."

A head tilt there.

"Do you think we have a lot in common, Aether the Iron?"

Arris had been wondering which Mercy they'd get today. In the aftermath of Humbarine a quiet rage had filled the Empress of the Core. She had watched her Srina be hurt and brought to the brink by trash and scum.

This had become personal the same way the Galactic Empire had been.

Today... Arris would find her playful.

.

ERASE THE PAST

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Armor - Darksaber - Mask of Mandalore
.​

THRONEWORLD

Scarred, yet mighty.

There was something ironic about the figure before the Mandalorian. Her name was Mercy, yet everything about her screamed the opposite. From the cacophony she called a throne to the battlescars upon her flesh. It all spoke a simple truth: the idea of mercy had gone to get milk thirty years ago and hadn't returned.

Aether hearkened to the Core Empress and listened well. He placed his extended hand back behind his back and rendered a nod in greeting, matching the incline that she offered. She then spoke of Srina Talon and the woman's opinion of him. It was gratifying to hear that his godmother spoke well of him. And in a breath, that gratification was tempered by the circumstances on Humbarine.

"A pleasure, Empress." he began. "What you have heard thus far is accurate on all accounts. Now, do we have a lot in common, Mercy the Empress?"

"Mandalore is War."​

"It is our god. It is our love. It is the very blood in our veins. It brings us joy and meaning." His dominant hand then rose, motioning towards the gargantuan throne behind her. "One need only look upon the seat of your power to see that you are cut from a similar cloth. And thus...there is potential for our people to work together for mutual profit."

Arris Windrun + Mercy

 

[Arris Windrun]

Aether Verd | Mercy
​

Arris wasn't far behind - electing quiet as Mercy and the Mand'alor engaged in conversation. She stood off to the side between them, arms folded across her chest.

She scoffed, almost inaudibly, when Mercy embellished the details of her message. Her eyes fell upon Aether, listening as he responded better than she anticipated. Mandalore is War. Oh, that would absolutely scratch Mercy. Whether or not he knew it, he was speaking the Titan's language.

While they continued, the cyborg let curiosity get the better of her.

She stretched her mind quietly across his beskar'gam and all those fancy toys. A peek, not a touch, with no attempt to hide her presence, should he sense it.

 

[Mercy]

MERCY

EMPRESS | WARLORD | STAR-ARM

Location: THRONEWORLD | Tags: Arris Windrun Aether Verd​

"Mandalore is War."​

"It is our god. It is our love. It is the very blood in our veins. It brings us joy and meaning."

Her eyes fell upon Aether, listening as he responded better than she anticipated. Mandalore is War. Oh, that would absolutely scratch Mercy. Whether or not he knew it, he was speaking the Titan's language.

Even if he didn't know it before saying it, he'd know it by Mercy's reaction right after his words.

The predatory grin shifted to a smile a few degrees more joyful than hungry. The Mandalorian culture was mostly a mystery to her. She had been brought up on Eshan and had learned much from the Echani. The rest of her education had happened on Nar Shaddaa. School of Hard Knocks in both cases.

"One need only look upon the seat of your power to see that you are cut from a similar cloth. And thus...there is potential for our people to work together for mutual profit."

"Oh, my sestra was right, you do have a way with words." Mercy laughed there, but it only had a pleased quality. "She also mentioned something about you not coming in for your latest hair braiding session..."

Golden eyes flicked curiously up from the visor to the top of the helmet.

She had no affinity with Force Sense and as such was blissfully unaware about Arris' attempts to feel out the tech on Aether's armor.

"Let's take this to more comfortable pastures, shall we?" Unless someone disagreed, Mercy would gesture for them to follow them exit stage right. Leading them through a set of doors on the other end of the room. Leaving the Throne behind and coming into another spacious room. This one had a large table in the middle, holographic maps that were currently centered on Humbarine and the astrological plotting of the invading force.

"A drink, either one of you?" She'd pour at a minimum a glass for herself and up to three, if Aether and Arris desired one too.

"So, let's talk brass tacks, since we all seem to agree a partnership desirable." She'd sit down on the edge of the table as she looked to Arris and then Aether.

"My people are hungry, so are yours. For war, conquest and expansion. Our territories are pretty close... liable to start causing misunderstandings that neither of us want. Especially with the fucking High Republic creeping in between us with their expansion drive through the middle." It hadn't been lost to her that somehow while the Covenant had become busy with Humbarine, those Senator-laced parasites had infested Kattada. That world should have been theirs.

That's where the filthy partnership between Windrun and herself had started, but somehow they lost sight of those beachy oceans to the extent the Republic got their claws in it.

It wouldn't shock her if those politicians would try and stir up trouble between them. She had considered it already on Humbarine, when Mandalorians showed up out of nowhere to start an attack on them, when they had no history of conflict. The fact that Humbarine had apparently been an actual Mandalorian incursion, but not originating out of Mandalore didn't mean it couldn't still happen.

"With opening our diplomatic relationships, I suggest we take a good long look at the Galactic Map and figure out an imaginary line that we won't fuck around with. And if one of us steps over the other's boundary... we will have that diplomatic channel to find out why."

.

ERASE THE PAST