Private Détente

[Alicio Organa]

Mandalore
Training Grounds
- Aether Verd -
​

Alicio Organa paused his careful cadence at an ancient stone training ground.

He'd petitioned one of their hosts for a tour of the area, in the hours after the ratification of the Sundari Accords. Many of the Alliance delegation had returned to their ships, not eager to overstay their welcome, but not Alicio. The Mandalorian he spoke to had agreed to it easily enough- part of their agreement had involved more freely sharing information about their respective governments- but Alicio conceded a further comfort by leaving his Honor Guard behind.

Of course, he was far from defenseless, but he hoped the show of trust was still accepted.

Walking around the public portions of the palace, and the surrounding area only gave him a surface-level glimpse at what they had done so far. Taken a world broken over and over again, and attempted to give it structure. Bolstering strength to keep it that way. Creating an Empire. A nasty word, one Alicio's family had a storied history of fighting. And now...

Well, they weren't allies. But they certainly weren't enemies. The truth was somewhere in the muddied mixture between.

But Alicio found himself staring a bit longer at a forgotten training ground. It was cracked stone and earth, a far cry from the metal that decorated everything else. Three Mandalorian warriors, each with different colors of armor and clan symbolism, sparred together, each against the other. Alicio had asked to spectate, and the three warriors, and his guide, agreed. He'd sat criss-cross on a stone bench, and observed with cold-iron eyes as they tested their various weapons against each other. They took to the task with renewed vigor, trying to impress this foreign power with beskads shining, whipcords cracking through the air, the peppering of stun darts on armor, even a brief splash from a knee-mounted flame projector.

How many Alliance civilians had died burning in Mandalorian fire, the Chancellor wondered, his mouth a thin line. Were they ready to accept peace?

...Am I?

 

[Aether Verd]

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

MANDALORE

Aether Verd had played his part well enough, seeing off the Alliance delegation with the kind of careful courtesy that made peace possible. For many, the surface of Mandalore was enough, and the comfort of their ships far outweighed any desire to linger among the domed cities and burnt plains. He did not blame them. He had offered each a word, a nod, a promise that if the Sundari Accords were to mean anything, it would begin with the way they parted.

When their vessels were gone and the sky cleared once more, word came that the Chancellor had chosen to remain. Aether learned that he was touring the palace grounds, without the barrier of his guards, a gesture that carried weight whether intended or not. It was a rare thing, a leader of worlds choosing to walk the bones of another.

He found him at the sparring ground, an old ring of cracked stone that had survived the purges and the bombardments, where even now three warriors danced in iron and flame. Aether had never thought he would see a Chancellor of the Alliance seated on Mandalorian stone, watching his people train with beskads. His steps slowed as he considered what his forebears would have thought, men and women of iron who had fought against Jedi and Sith, who had seen Mandalorians jettisoned into space while the Light spoke of justice and peace. They would have balked at this sight, a man adjacent to the Jedi, observing warriors they had called conquerors, raiders, threats that could only be removed by glassing the soil they stood upon. His mind turned over the phrase once spoken by those who claimed to govern the stars, that there was no such thing as a Mandalorian citizen.

It was hard to move past that history, harder still to let go of the ache in his spirit that called for vengeance, to answer the blood that demanded the old ways, to raid, to conquer, to show the galaxy that Mandalorians would not kneel to any Republic or Empire. Yet the Mandalore that needed to rise from the ashes could not walk that path again, not if they were to build something that would not be torn apart by the same mistakes of the past.

Aether stepped forward, the crimson of his cape whispering against the wind as he settled onto the stone bench beside the Chancellor. The sounds of whipcords and beskads echoed around them, the clash of iron a reminder of who they were.

He tilted his helm slightly toward Alicio.

"Credit for your thoughts, Chancellor?" he offered, his voice steady, the words meant for a man who stayed behind when he did not have to.​

Alicio Organa

 

[Alicio Organa]

"Credit for your thoughts, Chancellor?"

"...Credit per thought will cost you, Mand'alor." The twinge of humor in his voice didn't reach his face. "Careful, I may clear out your coffers."

The three warriors at the central dais didn't notice their Mand'alor enter their vicinity, at least for now. They were too busy bashing their gauntleted fists into each others helmets, locking limbs in a practiced, beautiful, brutal dance.

Alicio drew his cloak tighter around himself, gesturing at the trio. "I've never fought a Mandalorian before. I imagine it's like a nightmare." He let the briefest of smiles show, before dropping it. He imagined the king had heard at least rumors of Alicio's martial abilities. "Warriors trained to kill from the moment they could speak the Oath, descending from above with nigh-impenetrable armor, with victory and a battle cry as the only tastes on their tongue."

"Then again... the Alliance has it's own nightmares, I suppose."

He paused, thinking. And when he finally spoke, his tone was frank, dry.

"Do you think the Accord will hold?" Cobalt-grey eyes caught the Iron's visor. "Or is it... doomed, from the beginning?"

- Aether Verd -

 

[Aether Verd]

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

MANDALORE

Aether offered a rare chuckle, the sound low as it slipped past the vocoder. "Well, that is what raiding is for, Chancellor. The coffers will never empty." A jest for a jest, and the weight of it lingered lightly in the air, a brief reprieve from the iron tension that often marked such conversations.

He let the wind speak for a moment, listening as the clash of beskads and the sharp crack of whipcords filled the training ground. The Mandalorians fought without noticing their Mand'alor seated so near, and that was as it should be. Let them lose themselves in the dance, in the proving, while the leaders spoke of futures that might yet allow them to keep their blades sheathed.

"You are right. The Alliance has its own nightmares." Aether continued, tilting his helm toward the Chancellor before reaching to lift it away. He set it beside him on the stone bench, the metal catching the light as his dark eyes met Alicio's. "Jedi and Sith alike are taken as children, taught to wield the most powerful weapon in existence, blades that can cut through nearly anything, minds sharpened toward the art of violence dressed up in robes and creeds. Fighting a Mandalorian would be no different from facing either of them. A glorious battle, if you are the one in the ring. To those who stand outside it, watching, it must look like the galaxy has given shape to a nightmare."

Aether's gaze tracked the warriors for a moment, the three moving in perfect violence, then returned to Alicio as the Chancellor's question settled between them. He did the man the courtesy of a clear answer, one leader to another.

"It will hold." His voice remained calm, frank, dry as the Mandalorian deserts beyond Sundari's dome. "It will hold because the Alliance's attention is split, and it makes the most strategic sense to keep peace with Mandalore rather than open another front. A storm is coming, Chancellor, and the galaxy will call on the Alliance to weather it. Creating a new conflict with us, on your border, would be unwise."

He let the truth of that settle, shoulders lifting slightly as he continued. "The Empire is young. Our foundation is not yet dry. Launching ourselves into a war with the Alliance before we have even completed the work of rebuilding Mandalore would not be a sound venture, nor a sustainable one."

Aether leaned back, folding his gauntleted hands loosely as he regarded Alicio with the same iron calm he held for all things. "So, simply? The Accord will hold so long as it remains profitable for both sides. If we continue to find reasons to work together, if our peoples find room to respect each other, then it will become an everlasting foundation. But if relations stagnate, if the Alliance's attention narrows once the storm passes, then I could see the Accord being questioned by those who claim righteousness as their reason to demand its end."

He inclined his head once, a subtle gesture of shared understanding. "That is the truth of it, Chancellor. Mandalore will honor the Accord. The question is, will the galaxy give us the peace to build upon it?"​

Alicio Organa

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio knew the importance of a doffed helmet in Mandalorian culture.

Not all prescribed to the ancient tradition of covering one's face at all times, but even for those that didn't, the gesture spoke measures. It was a moment of shared vulnerability. It created a weak spot in their invulnerable defense. To trust, and be trusted.

Alicio studied the face of the Mand'alor, giving the gesture it's full weight, before he returned his attention to the battle before them. At least one of them had noticed their leader, as had been distracted enough to go down to the other two, who were now brawling between eachother.

"We are of the same mind." The Chancellor frowned. Aether's voice filled any space he uttered it in. Alicio's tickled at the edges, soft but sure. "I would... like, for this peace to go on forever. That would certainly be convenient for us. Mandalore is a most dangerous enemy, and the Alliance is a most profitable ally."

"When the Enclave raided Ryloth, years ago, it would have been convenient for us to... sit it out. We were recovering from the Maw's blitz into the Core, already squaring up with other galactic powers, and the Twi'leks were well out of our influence. It would've been easy for us to turn a blind eye. But we didn't. Because we have a code, too."

"And oaths can make fools of us all."

He continued to watch the battle. Aether would notice now that his eyes seemed to move before the warriors did, tracking moves and strikes that had yet to happen. "When I was a senator, my political opponents used to call me an idealist. And... maybe I was, back then. But as time went on, I've found myself thinking more... realistically. Perhaps it's a consequence of leadership. Who can say?"

"So, realistically, Mand'alor the Iron..."

"How long until the Alliance's righteousness gets in the way of the peace we've made?" He said the word sharply, his face catching an ironic grin. How many had dismissed the GA's care for the innocent as self-righteousness? "How different is your Empire from the others?"

- Aether Verd -

 

[Aether Verd]

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

MANDALORE

Aether’s gaze did not waver as the Chancellor spoke. He studied the man as much as he listened to him, watching the way each word settled behind his eyes, how his focus shifted without ever losing clarity. There was no need to rush in with his own thoughts. Alicio Organa had come to speak truth, not trade empty diplomacy, and that deserved the full weight of his attention.

When Alicio shared his desire for lasting peace, Aether gave a small nod, the gesture carrying more than acknowledgment. It was agreement. Hopeful, measured agreement.

Only once the Chancellor finished did Aether speak, his voice steady and grounded.

“Oaths and codes can make fools of us, yes. But lacking them is far worse.”

He turned slightly, not to look away but to gesture toward the warriors clashing in the distance, the Mandalorian training grounds alive with fury and focus.

“Our culture is built on Six Actions. They bind the many faces of Mandalorian identity across centuries and clans. The Alliance has seen us wear many helmets, raise many banners, but beneath them, the same foundation holds. Remove that, and we are no different than the pirates scraping their names into the edge of Hutt Space.”

He looked back to Alicio, voice unchanging.

“And without a code, what would the Alliance become? What shadow would it cast then? Whatever that shape is, I prefer the neighbor I see before me now.”

He watched as the Chancellor’s eyes tracked the duel unfolding nearby. There was more to it than casual interest. The man moved before the warriors did, tracking patterns, anticipating intent. Aether noticed but did not comment. For now, it was simply something to remember.

“Realism,” Aether said, shifting slightly, “comes naturally with leadership. Dreams do not die, but they are tempered. Bent and shaped by the tools you have when the time comes to build them.”

He tapped his chin once, the motion thoughtful.

“If we assume the worst,” he continued, “the clearest flashpoint would be a clash between the Alliance and the High Republic. Mandalore maintains a retainer contract with the Republic. The Alliance does not engage in private military contracting. If conflict arises, and our contractors move to honor the terms of that agreement, your people and mine could find themselves on opposite sides.”

His voice remained calm, analytical.

“That alone would be dangerous. Add to it the nature of politics, and the fires can spread. There will be those who seize the optics. Alliance soldiers dying at the hands of Mandalorians, regardless of context. Narratives form. Sides harden. A spark turns to a blaze.”

He folded his hands loosely, elbows resting on his knees.

“Absolute worst case? A few years. Not immediate. But if relations stagnate...if neither side works to grow beyond this accord...then yes, it is possible.”

He tilted his head, not as challenge, but invitation.

“That is my view. From where you sit, Chancellor, how long do you think we have?”​

Alicio Organa

 

[Alicio Organa]

"Some of us don't have codes." Alicio conceded the fact freely, his lip tightening in thought. "I truly believe that the Alliance is... level-headed, and kind, as a whole. But we hardly all agree, and selfishness corrupts even the highest echelons of our society. I've been fighting that fight for... a long time."

"I wasn't speaking about the Jedi when I said we have nightmares."

The idea that the newly-named High Republic and Alliance could come to blows made Alicio chuckle. What was a little gossip among governmental leaders? "When Naboo had first declared it's intent to expand it's influence, one of it's reasons for avoiding trade with us was our... well, it was that we were both too tyrannical on our allies, and too lax with their practices. I never quite understood the messaging. But then, they allied with the Confederacy in the Outer Rim, who near immediately broke their alliance's strictures, and tied themselves rather tightly to you and yours soon after the Neo-Crusaders you honor attacked their home. They have a history of searching every which way for stability, except the Core."

"All this to say that... I don't see the Alliance and High Republic going to war. The Jedi would be quick to resolve it, and... despite their protestations, we're far too similar. I don't trust their politics, but I do trust their ideals."

The Chancellor paused in thought. One warrior finally took victory over the others, turning to see the Chancellor and Mand'alor in deep discussion, and immediately struggled to tiredly salute.

"What Mandalore does when it thinks the galaxy isn't watching. I imagine that's the crux of it."

"So... what plans do you have for your new empire?"

- Aether Verd -

 

[Aether Verd]

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

MANDALORE

For a few moments, Aether listened in silence. There was weight behind Alicio’s words, the kind shaped by years of sleepless nights and uphill battles. The Mand’alor could hear the fatigue behind the idealism, the guarded hope behind the realism. He almost responded with a quip, something dry and pointed about how the Alliance’s many heads often argued with themselves, but decided against it. The nature of their governments was a thread best left untouched for now.

Instead, he leaned forward slightly, his voice calm and measured.

"I hope your fight ends in success, Chancellor. Whatever nightmares you meant… may they fall before you."

He let those words carry their own gravity before shifting to the broader political landscape.

"As for the High Republic and the Alliance..." Aether exhaled slowly through his nose. "It is all-too easy for the Jedi to call each other heretics and take up arms. History has proven that more than once. It is just as easy for democracies to clash. Over planets. Over tariffs. Over the shape of a treaty or the phrasing of a defense pact. The idea that like-minded groups cannot go to war is comforting, but not true. My people have shared the same creed for centuries and still we’ve turned our weapons on one another when pride or circumstance lit the fuse."

He gestured with a slight turn of the hand, not accusatory, simply illustrating a point.

"So while I hope peace holds between your people and the Republic, I also recognize a reality. Every world that joins the Republic is one that does not join the Alliance. If one of them decides to change that allegiance?"

He gave a quiet, knowing chuckle.

"Well... I imagine that would be one of those nightmares you were referring to."

His gaze shifted to the warrior who had finally emerged victorious in the training grounds. The tired salute was returned with one of his own, short but sincere.

And then, at last, came the question. Aether straightened slightly, his tone turning from analysis to conviction.

"My plans?" he echoed. "They’re simple. Reunite our worlds. Reunite our Clans. Bury the grudges that no longer serve us. Make sure that the future we build is one where Mandalore never again shackles itself to the Jedi or the Sith as a pawn in someone else’s war."

He looked at Alicio evenly.

"We will honor contracts. That much I will make sure of. But if betrayal ever comes from those who once called us allies, at least we will have something to show for it. The days of loyalty without return are behind us."​

Alicio Organa