Faction [ME/TIC] | Solving the Mandalorian Question

[COMMAF]

​

Since the Battle of Atrisia, the Imperial Confederation has silently observed as their northern Mandalorian neighbours would align themselves closely with the Sith Order culminating in the coronation of Quinn Varanin as the Queen and Warden of Eshan, cementing the close relationship between Mandalore and Jutland.

At the same time, tensions between the Mandalorians and the Diarchy have escalated to the point that the Mand’alor himself would crucify civilians mildly affiliated with the Diarchs in response to the previous execution of Mandalorian warriors months ago. Attached to the crucifixion would be a thread issued by the Mand’alor to anyone who would align themselves with the Diarchs warning that this was the price to pay for standing with the Diarchy.

With the crucifixion and the attached threat coming right at a time where the Confederation was hosting the Diarchy at Lianna for diplomatic talks, the issue of Mandalore can no longer be ignored. If left unchecked, Mand'alor the Iron might inevitably turn his sights against the Confederation just like his predecessors did with the Dark Empire and it is imperative that this is avoided through any means necessary.

Thus a holographic summit is called between representatives of the Imperial Confederation and the Mandalorian Empire as the former seeks clarification on where the latter stands in the galaxy’s geopolitical affairs which in turn will determine whether the Mandalorian Empire poses a threat to the future of the Imperial Confederation.

The outcome of this summit will determine whether or not the Imperial Confederation and the Mandalorian Empire can still maintain positive relations and co-exist in these turbulent times as the galaxy continues to be engulfed with war and chaos.

 

[Ella Nova]

---

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Lianna, Lianna City;
The Neyrix, Vūm.
Tags: Karl Von Strauss | Marlon Sularen | Aether Verd | Ronhar Tane | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Onrai | T'zarna Khab |

---

Lianna fell a long time ago.

Before Kilran, before Deschart, and before the Sularen-Strauss partnership that looked set to decide the ambitions of the Imperial Confederation (according to an analysis by Vūm) for, as the very least, the next five years. Lianna City itself was paying for the sins of the past. Back when the Liann had serviced the tenth dynasty of the tyrannical Sith. I.C.D patrols kept the people under their feet, and injustice disguised as justice entraps a people who were conquered and made to serve a regime they had wanted no part of back then. These are dystopian times, after all.

Strobing lights of a city caught in the web of a conspiracy flashed through the metal barrier of a lift as it carried an enigma up towards the top of the pyramid. Her paid them no attention. Forgiveness was not their verse. You dare not lift your boot up from the neck when it is stomped down upon those who had built the weapons that had desecrated civilization and turned it into an abomination. The Mandalorians should know something about that. Tion was not the only star system that had been destroyed by those dark masters from the Stygian Caldera. Suffice to say it was a surprise when one of them had been crowned the sitting, ruling monarch of Eshan. Something is very wrong on New Mandalore, Her was beginning to suspect.

Ding.

The soft thrrmmm of the lift's grate retracting broke Her's lament upon the past as it opened to reveal the inner workings where she pursued the work here in the star sectors of Imperial space. She was a long way from Naboo now. Perhaps, after the next few weeks, it would prove to be the last time Her would ever step foot into the aristocracy that she had left behind to pursue this revenge. Thandon waited for their return. Adversaries seemed to be everywhere now. A familiar knife held coiled at the neck, and readied to slice the jugular open. That would be a just thing. Would it be a Mandalorian holding the blade when the time came?

Her disrobed and discarded the trappings of the disguise worn amid those heroes in the High Republic in favour of a new one. The outfit was distinctly Enarc in it's design. Comfortable and useful to fit in. But out here such things were taken for granted. Imperials liked conformity over comfort. Status shown via the placards of rank, or condemnations, to be worn along the chest alongside your designation. Your TK code was known to you like your left hand. Better know it, or you will end up in a place no Humanoid should be. Thankfully, Her remembered how to fit in with these autocrats. Curt, and decisive. However, Strauss was beginning to clock on, she feared.

Beneath the tranquil lights of the office, atop the Neyrix overlooking the dystopian cityscape below it, Her climbed upon the podium of the holographic projector as the Warden Primus. Fine lines were being drawn in the dirt now, and she longed to see those Dark Lords put down where they belonged. But her adversaries are cunning, as Eshan seemed to prove. Indeed, Her never suspected that relations between this Mand'alor the Iron could ever lead to something akin to good graces with the Sith Lords from Jutrand, or Dromund Kaas. They had destroyed Mandalore hadn't they?

Perhaps it was a ruse in of itself. Something clever that was for sure. Some sayings stayed true. Time does heal all wounds. Oh, Her remembered the lessons held in the place that now played home to the Galactic Emperor. Back when Jedi had traversed the halls of peace, upon a bastion of democracy, before the world became known as Imperial Centre. Several millennia, before the Four-Hundred Year Darkness, the Sith and Mandalorians had once been great allies. As the hologram came to life, and begun to transmit the summit before Her, she could not help but wonder about whether or not she was living in a time where somehow, inexplicably, they had been drawn back together again.

The idea of it was terrifying.

---

 

[Onrai]

Deep Space
Tags: Her Karl Von Strauss Marlon Sularen Aether Verd Ronhar Tane Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory T'zarna Khab

The Maker had hardly been kind to Onrai. Recent occurrences had seen the enigmatic entity shy away from her followers. from the Imperial Confederation to such a degree that any information about her motives or whereabouts had become not much more than hearsay. Given the interest from certain parties, it had proven beneficial to lay low.

Unfortunately.

Onrai, in her masque as Vanessa Vantai, had made offers and overtures to the Mandalorians out of a desire to ensure peaceable relations between the Imperial Confederation and the nation of bounty hunters - a nation she had personally witnessed be betrayed and backstabbed under the pretext of imperialism more times than she personally cared to consider. The knowledge that such relations, despite having not been further acted on by other members of the Imperial leadership, had decayed so dystrophically was disturbing enough to draw the attention and focus of the false false godess.

When the call opened up, she would be there. Not in holographic form - she seemed too solid for that - but she would be there, fully attentive of everything that was going on.

Hopefully this would go well enough.

 

[Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory]

TAG: Karl Von Strauss | Her | Onrai | Marlon Sularen | Aether Verd | T'zarna Khab | Ronhar Tane | @open

It was a little crisis for the N&Z, but a much larger one for the Imperial Confederation, to be confronted with the brutality of the Mandalorian Empire towards its foes, or more precisely it's perceived foes. It put Amalia in a tough spot, as she had been handed the position of CEO by the Nargath House as a token to her service and expertise (not to mention the fact she basically ran the darker side of the company for several decades from the shadows). Betraying that trust placed in her could be a costly thing, and she was not willing to stake her life on it. next to that, she had already committed to heavy investments within the Mandalorian Empire, so if these secured investments and loans through the IMF would fall through the holes of this tension, not only the N&Z could be looking at a staggering loss of credits, but Amalia would have to manage this loss on the books, not to mention explain it to the board of directors.

Obviously, she has been stressed since the moment that blasted video surfaced on the holonet, while the brutality itself did not faze her, the potential consequences put her in such a delicate position that she was a wreck for quite some time, having to contact the production facilities of the EnSol division, contacting the IMF which acted as the company's financial arm, sending missives through various channels to division chiefs and their vice chiefs just to make sure the tension would not disrupt the company's overall production and logistics.

Still, taking a deep breath, at the moment she'd be representing the N&Z once again in what could be seen as another round of peacetalks, Amalia relaxed, settling herself in her chair and looking straight at the holotranseiver on her desk. pressing a button on said desk, the shutters behind her dropped down, drowning out the sound of the industrial heartland of Corvus. For a moment, she hesitated, but eventually...she activated the transeiver and leaned back in her chair.

"Let's hope this can be curtailed and nipped in the bud before it spirals out of control," The governor of Corvus calmly muttered under her breath as the holotranseiver began to connect to the secure network she was invited to.

 

[T'zarna Khab]

Location: A Confederation Frigate over Ossus
Objective: Look, Listen, Act
Tags: Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Her , Karl Von Strauss , Marlon Sularen , Onrai , Ronhar Tane

High above Ossus, deep inside the space of her hive, T'zarna sat pensively. She was waiting for a signal to join a meeting of the highest importance, one that would decide the fates of many. She would no doubt hear many reactions to the various talking points, but her mind was set in stone. The Mandalorian problem required swift solution. T'zarna wouldn't be satisfied with any solution other than complete devastation, the type of destruction that would make future aggressors pause.

Mandalore had been destroyed before, ravaged by war on a scale most could only imagine. Destruction of a single planet would only strengthen the resolve of the wandering warriors. What was needed was something that would frighten even the most resolute of the Mandalorians into bowing their heads, and shrinking back into their cluster.

However, T'zarna couldn't speak of such a zealous cause out of turn. She would have to bide her time until things seemed right to try and spur things her way. Only with the right support was she going to be able to bring death to the enemies of her hive!

Knowing the time of the summit was coming, T'zarna made her way swiftly into the cargo hold of the frigate. In these bowels of the ship, she would be unbothered by the ship's crew. Places like these, dark and quiet, were much more her speed anyway. She could focus down here, scheme about the upcoming events.

In this new hive, T'zarna found herself lower in the hierarchy than she liked. She was lost now more than ever, working as a lower inquisitor within the ISS, and having next to no sway in the greater machine. Things would change eventually, maybe sooner than later. Until then, she would work, that was all she knew.

Her time as Velran's assassin was over, as dead as Velran himself. So she would have to forge her own destiny now. And that was a concept that put fear into the usually heartless drone...

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Beskar'gam - Darksaber​

HOLOCALL - MANDALORE

The chamber resolved itself in layers of cold light and iron geometry, a space shaped less for comfort than for truth. Holographic projectors hummed softly as figures coalesced across the expanse, representatives of the Imperial Confederation taking form opposite the throne of Mandalore. At its center, unmoved and immovable, sat Mand’alor the Iron, his presence rendered in blue-white light yet carrying the same undeniable authority as if he stood there in flesh and beskar. Around him, other projections flared into being, trusted advisors, clan leaders, and wardens of the Empire, silent witnesses to a moment that would decide the course of southern and northern relations alike. The visor of the Mand’alor bore its familiar T-shaped gaze, unyielding, fixed upon Imperial eyes.

Restraint had once defined Mandalore’s posture toward the Diarchy. Not as a weakness, nor as a hesitation, but as a calculated discipline exercised by an Empire that understood the cost of unrestrained war. Their first encounter had not been born of diplomacy. Without warning or provocation, Diarchy agents descended upon Taris, sowing dissent among civilians who had known nothing of interstellar rivalry. Mandalore had not offended the Diarchy, nor encroached upon its territory. Its offense had been sovereignty. When confronted, a fragile understanding had been reached, one built upon distrust rather than trust, yet Mandalore chose not to escalate. The blade remained sheathed.

Hope followed in the shadow of catastrophe. During the Gravesong War, as the dead rose across the Outer Rim, Mandalore and the Diarchy stood side by side on Yaga Minor. Necessity forged cooperation, and cooperation gave way to treaty. Neutrality was established, freedom of movement through Mandalorian holy worlds was affirmed, and a framework for neighborly coexistence was laid. For a brief time, it seemed possible that shared survival might temper old instincts.

That illusion fractured on Vexis Station. Diarchy agents continued their efforts to undermine Mandalorian stability, and when confronted, they chose violence. The resulting chaos claimed two lives, one Mandalorian child and one Diarchy child, an outcome that shattered the restraint Mandalore had so carefully maintained. Local forces clashed, escalation followed, and only direct intervention from the Mand’alor and the Diarchs themselves halted a wider conflict. Even then, the truth stood exposed. This was not an isolated incident, but a pattern.

The Clans were gathered. The Wardens spoke. The Great Heathen Army stood prepared to answer provocation with annihilation. The consensus was clear. Yet even then, Mandalore extended one final opportunity for peace. On Daro, a ceasefire was negotiated between the Diarchy’s political head and one of the Mand’alor’s trusted Warmasters. Restraint was adopted once more, not as forgiveness, but as a test of the Diarchy’s word.

The answer came broadcast to the stars. Mandalorian warriors were executed publicly, accused of responsibility for the violence on Vexis Station, their deaths framed as justice. So called radicals were denounced even as the infrastructure that enabled them remained untouched. The implication was unmistakable. Mandalorians were being punished for their identity, while the Diarchy laundered its culpability through spectacle and rhetoric.

Retribution stood ready, but the galaxy burned elsewhere. The collapse of the Galactic Alliance allowed the Galactic Empire to rise anew, declaring war upon all and unveiling the Death Star III. Mandalore turned its gaze from vengeance to survival, committing its strength to the effort that destroyed the superweapon. Yet victory did not erase the threat, nor did it still the knowledge that others like it could follow. Mandalore remained vigilant, collaborating with neighboring powers to prepare for extinction-level danger.

Hope lingered, fragile but present, that shared resistance might end the escalation between north and south. That hope died with intelligence delivered by the Nite Owls. The Diarchy had parlayed with the Black Sun Syndicate, petitioning criminals to erase Mandalorian worlds through genocide. The revelation ended restraint. Orders were given. Taris was cleansed of embedded assets, agitators, and traitors who had worked for years to destabilize Mandalorian society. Those responsible were brought before the cross, and as Mandalorians had been executed months before, so too were the Diarchy’s. The broadcast was unambiguous. Damnation was no longer theoretical.

It was that act which drew the full attention of the Imperial Confederation. Trade and cooperation had flowed between Mandalore and the south for months, yet the Confederation had chosen to host and engage those who had raised the sword against Mandalore. In that choice, questions were answered, and new ones demanded voice.

And thus Mandalore spoke.​

“When my Empire first rose,” Aether said at last, his voice calm, resonant, and deliberate, “you sent an envoy to stand before me. That envoy spoke of concern, of anti-Imperial sentiment already taking root among my people.”

His armored hand lifted from the throne’s armrest, extending toward the assembled Imperials with measured intent.

“I told him then the truth I remind you of now. Mandalore does not choose its sentiment in isolation. Your actions decide it. Who you shelter. Who you excuse. Who you allow to raise a blade against us.”

The hand lowered, returning to stillness as the visor’s gaze remained fixed.

“So I ask you plainly,” Aether concluded. “What say you?”

Aselia Verd , Ze'bast Verd , Renn Vizsla , Vytal Noctura , Adelle Bastiel , Siv Kryze , Itzhal Volkihar , Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Her , Karl Von Strauss , Marlon Sularen , Onrai , Ronhar Tane , T'zarna Khab

 

[Ronhar Tane]

FLEET ADMIRAL VORIN ZONILL
[REDACTED]
MAHPOREEM

"T-minus five minutes and counting, sir!", someone shouted at Fleet Admiral Vorin Zonill as the man continued to make himself presentable for the holo-conference between the Imperial Confederation and the Mandalorian Empire. Zonill scowled as he adjusted and readjusted his uniform, putting his final touches into place. He straightened the epaulettes on his shoulders so that they were even, made sure that their wasn't even a single wrinkle on his otherwise impeccably creased shirt and shortened up the length of his cape so that it was exactly regulation length, two standard inches off the ground. After all, if Zonill demanded that his men pay such attention to detail in their own dress, he would be nothing but a hypocrite if he did not apply the same high standards to himself.

Still, he had to wonder if all his effort was truly worth it, and if he was being honest, this whole affair with the Mandalorians was truly starting to annoy him. It wasn't that he disapproved of what Mand'alor Aether Verd had done-in fact, periodic acts of violence were sometimes quite necessary to remind the populace of who they served-it was more the way that he had done it. Escalating the situation, broadcasting the execution live on the Holonet like he was a common Black Sun criminal, delighting in the fact that he had crucified those Diarchy agents. No, it didn't sit right with Zonill, and he couldn't help but wonder if the man's irrational response was someone related to Mandalore's increasingly close ties to the Sith.

It wouldn't surprise him, that was for sure.

"T-minus one minute!"

Zonill took a deep breath in and composed himself. Regardless of his personal feelings, the current situation was nothing if not dangerous, and one wrong move or misspoken word could bring war between the Confederation and the Imperials. Zonill would have to choose what he said exceedingly carefully, given how volatile things were, and how uncertain the mental state of Aether Verd was.

"We are live in 3...2...1...!"

Zonill's Holoprojector roared to life, broadcasting his image across the stars as other valued members of the Imperial Confederation and the Mandalorian Empire appeared around him. The conference had begun in earnest, and Zonill had just managed to catch the beginning of Aether Verd 's opening remarks:

"When my Empire first rose, you sent an envoy to stand before me. That envoy spoke of concern, of anti-Imperial sentiment already taking root among my people. I told him then the truth I remind you of now. Mandalore does not choose its sentiment in isolation. Your actions decide it. Who you shelter. Who you excuse. Who you allow to raise a blade against us. So I ask you plainly, What say you?"

Zonill could feel the venom behind the man's voice, the anger that he projected emanating directly into Zonill despite the great deal of distance between them. Someone was wrong, for Zonill had heard that the Mandalorians were a proud yet reasonable people. With the way that Verd was acting, he, in Zonill's humble opinion, was most certainly not living up to the reputation of the Mandalorian people. Zonill couldn't help but speak up in response:

"With all due respect, Mand'alor," Zonill began, "could the same not be said for you and your people? The Imperial Confederation and your Mandalorian Empire are not entirely unalike at the end of the day. We both seek power and security, and we both maintain an impressive reach across the stars, using that power we have to ensure that we keep the security we so desperately seek. Have you not yourself been creating a relationship with the Sith Order, our sworn enemies to the North and West? Enemies who have taken countless Imperial lives and spread terror across the sector? It is not something I condemn you for, Mand'alor. If anything, it is something that I would probably do myself if I had found myself in your position."

"Yet, the Imperial Confederation has neither attacked nor disowned you for your tentative support of the Sith Order. We have not sent our fleets against you in retaliation, we have not tried to abduct or kill your people, and we have certainly not issued any statements of a threatening nature across the HoloNet. All we have done is what you have done, searching for a trusted and reliable ally in these trying times, which I should mention does mean we have or will sign any sort of diplomatic agreements with the Diarchy. I ask you this, Mand'alor: how is it that you decry our actions when you yourself have done the very same? I know you to be a most fair, reasonable, and just man, yet I cannot help but wonder if what you say takes all the facts into consideration."

"More to the point, cooperation is certainly within the best interests of all parties involved. Our jointly operated space stations have been a financial boon, have they not? Have not provided thousands of jobs for both Mahporeenian and Mandalorian alike? Have they not facilitated trade between our two fine planets and factions? Have they not helped to bring us closer together, despite the distances between us? Again, I offer no negative judgement toward you, Mand'alor Aether Verd , but I ask you to look at the whole picture."

With that out of the way, Zonill remained silent as he eyes flickered away from the conference, not in fear or apprehension, but almost as if he were trying to say something to someone off screen without actually saying anything...

TAGS:
Aether Verd
T'zarna Khab
Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory
Onrai
Her
OPEN

 

[Aether Verd]

Mandalore's gaze shifted towards the first to speak.

"Yours is an unfamiliar face. With whom am I speaking?"

Ronhar Tane​

Spoiler: Tag

Aselia Verd , Ze'bast Verd , Renn Vizsla , Vytal Noctura , Adelle Bastiel , Siv Kryze , Itzhal Volkihar , Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Her , Karl Von Strauss , Marlon Sularen , Onrai , T'zarna Khab​

​

​

 

[Ronhar Tane]

FLEET ADMIRAL VORIN ZONILL
[REDACTED]
MAHPOREEM

The Fleet Admiral returned Aether Verd 's gaze, locking his eyes with the man. He was sure that he knew who he was, but so be it. If the Mand'alor wanted to play this game, then Zonill would be happy to oblige.

"Fleet Admiral Vorin Zonill of the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant and the Imperial Confederation. You've already met my subordinate Ronhar Tane aboard the Anvil of Concordia, and now you have the pleasure of meeting with me. I sincerely hope our conversation manages to turn out...productively."

That was all Zonill had to say in response.

TAGS:
Aether Verd
OPEN

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Beskar'gam - Darksaber​

MANDALORE - HOLOCALL

Aether did not rise from his throne, nor did his projection flicker with agitation, yet when he spoke the chamber felt smaller for it, as if the truth he carried demanded proximity.

“You mistake resemblance for equivalence.” Aether said, his voice steady, resonant, sharpened by certainty rather than anger. “Yes, we both rule empires, and yes, we both understand power and security, but that is where the likeness ends. Traditional imperialism feeds itself on expansion, on ideology, on bending others into familiar shapes. Mandalore does not. We endure. We survive. We remember. And I will not allow our motives to be flattened into something convenient simply because it makes your argument easier to carry.”

He paused just long enough for the words to settle before continuing, tone deepening with controlled intensity. “Mandalore does not cultivate alliances as the rest of the galaxy does. Every time we have bound ourselves to another power in good faith, it has ended with Mandalorian blood on foreign soil and apologies spoken too late. Because of that history, we do not trade loyalty or mutual defense. We offer service. We are the foremost mercenary superpower in the galaxy, and we operate on contracts, not devotion. Our arrangement with the Sith Order is a retainer, no different in principle than our contract with the High Republic. Currency exchanged for warfare. No ideology shared. No future promised. You call it alignment because that framing suits you, but it is not the truth.”

The Mand’alor’s gaze never wavered. “And do not pretend the Sith became your sworn enemies by their own design. The Confederation chose to assault their holy worlds. You drew the blade first, and when they answered, you named them monsters for doing so. That circumstance bears no resemblance to the Diarchy, who seeded sedition within our worlds, executed our people publicly, and then begged criminals to erase Mandalorian planets from the stars. Intent does not absolve outcome, Fleet Admiral. You may tell yourself you sought allies, but the result was the emboldening of a power that had already raised the sword against our children.”

His armored hand lifted, gesturing outward with deliberate restraint, not accusation but invitation to reckon with consequence. “You speak of restraint because you did not fire upon us. I speak of complicity because you offered hospitality to those who had already damned themselves by their actions. Timing matters. Optics matter. Who you seat at your table tells the galaxy who you are willing to excuse. Trade and shared stations do not purchase our silence, nor do they grant immunity from accountability. A neighbor who entertains those calling for our annihilation ceases to be trusted by definition.”

The hand lowered, returning to stillness as his voice hardened into something final. “Mandalore does not demand exclusivity, but we demand clarity. We judge by patterns, not promises, and by outcomes, not intentions. You assumed our restraint was endless, that our discipline was weakness. It is not. So understand this plainly. Our sentiment toward the Confederation will be decided by what you choose to tolerate, who you choose to legitimize, and whether you believe Mandalorian lives are negotiable. The burden is not on us to justify our response. It is on you to explain your choices.”

Ronhar Tane​

Spoiler: Tag

Aselia Verd , Ze'bast Verd , Renn Vizsla , Vytal Noctura , Adelle Bastiel , Siv Kryze , Itzhal Volkihar , Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Her , Karl Von Strauss , Marlon Sularen , Onrai , T'zarna Khab

 

[Runi Kuryida]

Ever precarious the Way of Mandalore. Few could truly appreciate that thought in just how full of trial and tribulation their history was. Through all of it, people had found a means of surviving and taking personal lessons from it; and from them rejuvenated their Clans or formed new ones. It was not normally their way to seek out strife, but when they felt it forced upon them they would respond.

Today's gathering was an effort to decide where another of Mandaore's neighbors stood. Could there be an accord, or was it doomed to bloodshed? At least it would seem one side was not beset by hostile forces. The fourth remain uncertain, but given their proclamation of hostilities seemed a foregone conclusion. It would be beneficial if they were not surrounded on three sides by enemies. Beneficial, but not at great expense. Aether would do what he felt he must; fight whoever he felt needed fought.

The Shaman had flickered into being near the Mand'alor from the start. Her hazel eyes slowly panned across all those in assembly until they found one she knew, Onrai . A slight nod of her head accompanied the sight.

Aether and Ronhar soon got into a lively discussion or debate over the nature of prospective or believed relations among parties. The Shaman had nothing to add to the conversation between two people. Her attention shifted to the rest present, curious whose statements they seemed to favor or found distasteful. There was no reason the Confederation couldn't soothe Aether's harsh tone, and without the need for overly elaborate concessions. Though they would need to desire it. To demonstrate they understood the Mand'alor's... concerns.

Mandalorians did not engage in politics like most others, and so many flailed to find the right response to those of the warrior-centric culture. But there were always politics when two factions could be found in proximity to one another; especially as the number of factions within close proximity grew. The Empire only wished to know where they stood, and in turn tell of where they stood. How others might take the tone or the words only time would tell.

Aether Verd | T'zarna Khab | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Onrai | Her | Ronhar Tane | Open​

 

[Marlon Sularen]

S O L V I N G_T H E_M A N D A L O R I A N_Q U E S T I O N

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
CHOLGANNA, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

It had been a while since Sularen had interacted with the Mandalorian Empire. When he first ventured out to Mandalore out of curiosity to get a glimpse at the inner workings of the new Mandalorian Regime and ensure that it wouldn't be a problem for the nascent Imperial Confederation. Even though what had been discussed during Sularen's visit had not been properly addressed, both the Mandalorian Empire and the Imperial Confederation kept their distance from each other until recent events would bring both factions at a crossroad.

In the past few months, the Mandalorians had begun to align themselves with the Sith Order building a relationship that had culminated in the coronation of a high-ranking member of the Sith Order as both Queen and Warden of Eshan. Furthermore the escalation of tensions between the Diarchy and the Mandalorian Empire, the former whom the Confederation sought to build closer ties with.

This would inevitably bring both Mandalorians and the Imperials at odds especially with the threats levied by the Mandalorians against those who would align themselves with the Diarchy and the Imperial Confederation impending second offensive against the Sith Holy Worlds which could draw the Mandalorians against the Confedderation. Thus a holographic summit had been called by Sularen himself to resolve the matter once and for all, to allow for both sides to clarify which ground they stand on and negotiate an outcome that will prevent an unnecessary conflict between both factions.

Thus Marlon Sularen found himself seated within his office inside the Imperial Centre for Military Operations on Cholganna, already connected to the holographic summit with the holographic display attached to his desk already displaying the images of the individuals who were also connected to the holographic meeting. So far the meeting had gone off to a rocky start as the Mand'alor engaged in a small exchange with Admiral Vorin Zonill immediately turning the tables against the Confederation. Where the Confederation sought clarity, the Mandalorians demanded it which only further exposed the degree of distrust between both factions.

Thus once the Mand'alor finished speaking the Supreme Commander would proceed to chime in to address his statements. "Our decision to pursue stronger relations with the Diarchy was merely a strategic decision, rooted in a mutual desire for reconciliation after prior conflict and rivalries and cooperation against the Galactic Empire that poses a long-term threat to both the Confederation and the Diarchy." Sularen began. "Our relationship with the Diarchs goes far beyond your conflict with them, and even the foundation of both our Confederation and your Empire. A relationship that shouldn't just be dismissed because of a series of skirmishes and executions over disputed territory."

Sularen then paused for a few seconds, giving the Mand'alor and his entourage to process what he had said before continuing to speak. "You speak of complicity, off entraining those calling for your annihilation, yet as far as we're concerned the Diarchs have only executed military personnel and issued threats of war against the Mandalorian Empire. Last time i checked war and annihilation are two different concepts which I'm sure you'd understand. Hardly a reason to retaliate with the execution of mere civilians and issue and actual call of annihilation against the Diarchy, their citizens and anyone who forge alliances with them."

"As for these claims that the Diarchs begged criminals to erase Mandalorian worlds from the stars, assuming such a ludicrous thing ever happened, why didn't you simply reveal such information to the rest of the wider galaxy? Such a revelation would have undermined the Diarchy to a far greater extent then simply executing mere civilians and throwing a veiled threat against us. Yet you only choose to share this information with us now, after unnecessarily creating tension and souring your own reputation by responding to action made by the Diarchy with something far worse."

"In regards to the Sith, there is something you must understand Mand'alor. They were always monsters undeserving of recognition in this galaxy who bring nothing but chaos and destruction wherever they go. The same Sith responsible for killing billions of Imperial citizens at Tion. The same Sith responsible for killing millions and displacing millions more in the Tapani Sector. The same Sith responsible for abducting people from their homes on worlds right next to our borders. The Sith were always our enemy from day one, we merely choose to take action before they could inevitably strike at us."

"Then there is the issue of your relationship with the Sith. You claim you aren't aligned with them, that you are merely a 'mercenary superpower' that is fulfilling a contract with them. Yet you allow for a Sith to be crowned as the Queen of one of your worlds and appoint her as a Warden, a Sith who just so happens to be the daughter of the former Sith Empress responsible for resurrecting Darth Solipsis and is directly complicit in the many crimes of the Sith Order against Imperials. Even if your telling the truth, i find it very strange that you're willing to accept a contract with a galactic power that has committed the same acts you accuse the Diarchy of merely threatening your people with, yet now have a problem with us seeking closer relations with the Diarchy."

"We tolerate those who understand the principle of reason and compromise, legitimize those who share our principles and believe that all lives whether they are Mandalorian, Imperial or Diarchy should not be up for negotiation. However you must understand that this is a two-way street. If you seek clarity for us, we expect to receive the same degree of clarity from you."

With that Sularen leaned back into his chair, having finished his opening statement. He looked forward to hear the Mand'alor's response eager to see how he would respond to his statements and questions. This was going to be a long meeting, but Sularen expected nothing less. If they were going to get to the bottom of this issue then they might as well take as much time as possible to cover every single topic that needed to be addressed for the sake of securing the future of the Confederation.

Tags [TIC] | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Ronhar Tane | Her | Onrai | T'zarna Khab
Tags [ME] | Aether Verd | Runi Kuryida ​

 

[Renn Vizsla]

C A L L

Tag: Aether Verd | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Ronhar Tane | Marlon Sularen | Runi Kuryida | T'zarna Khab | Onrai | Her | Ronhar Tane




Renn Vizsla did not speak immediately.

His projection stood a step removed from the throne, close enough to signal unity, far enough to honor the gravity of the Mand’alor’s seat. Silver-blue beskar’gam caught the chamber’s cold light, etched sigils of clan and office muted beneath the holographic sheen. His helm remained on. This was not a space for bare faces.

When he did move, it was only to incline his head, once, to Aether Verd . Not submission. Acknowledgment.

“The question has already been answered,” Renn said at last, his voice even, carried without amplification yet filling the chamber all the same. “Just not in words.”

He turned slightly, addressing the Imperial delegates without ever turning his back on the throne.

“You ask what they say.” A brief pause. “They say it every time they grant audience to our enemies while calling it neutrality. Every time they host those who destabilize our worlds and call it diplomacy. Every time Mandalorian blood is weighed against convenience and found… negotiable.”

His gauntleted hand rested at his side, fingers relaxed, disciplined. No theatrics. No threats. That had never been Renn’s way.

"I stand as Warmaster and negotiator both. I watch restraint be chosen over vengeance, not because the Clans lacked the will to end the matter, but because Mandalore still believed words might hold weight.”

A subtle tightening entered his tone then, not anger, but certainty.

“They did not.”

Renn’s visor shifted, briefly, to the Mand’alor, an unspoken confirmation, before returning to the Imperials.

“You ask what we say now?” he echoed. “We say Mandalore has learned. We say sovereignty is not preserved by patience alone. And we say that alliances are measured not by treaties signed, but by enemies refused.”

Silence followed him, deliberate and unhurried.

“This is not a declaration,” Renn finished. “It is a ledger. Actions recorded. Debts tallied. The page remains open.”

He inclined his head once more, this time to the chamber at large, and fell silent, leaving space for the Imperials to decide what, if anything, they would write next.

 

[Raum Varad]

What Question?​

Raum pushed the mop in lazy arcs, gray water sloshing over durasteel that never stayed clean. No conflict meant downtime. Downtime meant chores. Someone up top believed boredom bred rust, so the standing army that was the Great Heathen Army scrubbed halls like penitents. Raum didn't mind. His shoulders ached in a good way, and the quiet let his thoughts wander without teeth.

He crossed into the security room, mop squeaking as it caught the threshold. Two sentries stood over the consoles, eyes on the holo feeds. Raum bumped the door shut with his hip, leaned the mop against the wall, and nodded like he belonged there. "Mind if I smoke?" he asked, already fishing a cigarra from his pocket. He lit it before they answered, flame flaring, smoke curling up toward the vents.

He took a drag and leaned over their shoulders. Blue ghosts argued in the throne room feed. Big words. Bigger egos. Raum caught the bald Imperial's voice and winced. Inside, he thought, gods, talk can kill faster than blades. Mand'alor sat solid as a mountain, taking none of it. Good. Raum liked that. He liked leaders who didn't blink.

He shifted to get a better look, ash dropping onto the console. One of the sentries hissed. Raum didn't notice. "You think we'll get to fight these guys?" he asked, eyes still on the screen. The question hung there, hopeful as a loaded dice.

No answer. Raum tapped the display with his finger, leaving a gray smear. "I'd like to kill that bald one," he said casually. "Feels like they'd pay something nice for him." He chuckled to himself, another drag. "Also it'd be nice to shut him up. For the peace of the galaxy, right?"

In his head, he pictured it. Quick job. Clean exit. Smile on the way out. He wondered if boredom counted as motive. Probably not. He flicked ash onto the ground and finally glanced at the sentries. "Relax. I'm joking."

He wasn't.

​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Mandalore
Tags: Aether Verd | Ze'bast Verd | Renn Vizsla | Vytal Noctura | Siv Kryze | Itzhal Volkihar | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Her | Karl Von Strauss | Marlon Sularen | Onrai | T'zarna Khab

She did not belong here.

Adelle stood out of the way, out of sight, in the throne room of Mandalore. Her presence had been requested. A counsellor and representative of the Iron Wolves. A witness to whatever this summit of politicians and dignitaries would forge. But she was no diplomat. Others had been called to attend, by holo or in person. Runi Kuryida, a shaman and Warmaster of the Iron Wolves, appeared by holo when the meeting started. Siv Kryze, an Iron Wolf in their shared pack. Itzhal Volkihar, a Mandalorian Protector she'd shared drinks and histories with. Renn Vizsla, the Warden of Roon and an iron hand in training. The only other Mandalorian invited Adelle did not know, a member from Aether's own clan. They were disciplined warriors of reason.

And they surrounded the Mand'alor.

If people knew who stood around him, it might cast the Mand'alor's holovid in a different light.

But people thought they knew Mandalorians and this Empire. They thought they knew Mand'alor the Iron.

The holocall began, images of leaders within the Imperial Confederation popping up in blue and white light. When all had joined, Aether spoke, his tone hard and final but not undiplomatic. More importantly, he ended with a question. Asking what the Confederation meant by making overtures to the Diarchy.

The conversation that followed inspired a sigh that she repressed but Mand'alor's honest and blunt question Who are you? made her grateful she had her buy'ce on. It kept the snort of laughter safely contained. The conversation continued and Supreme Commander Marlon Sularen spoke. She'd met—seen, rather—the Supreme Commander on Ukatis during a Life Day festival. And while she remembered him, he likely wouldn't recognize her, now covered in her beskar'gam as she was now. As she recalled, Aurelian had insulted him to his face with a smile and enough plausible deniability. Aurelian of all people.

His monologue slowly killed her will to be in the throne room and made her regret ever answering the Mand'alor's call. But that's what the Resol'nare demanded, wasn't it? Answer when the Mand'alor called.

Renn answered Sularen, reinforcing everything Mand'alor the Iron had said thus far. Adelle could see the pattern already forming, a circle of words and reason that slowly spiraled until they finally came to the point. She wasn't sure Aether's patience would last that far. Truth be told, she wasn't sure if her patience would last that far.

"If Mand'alor would forgive the intrusion," she said, vocoder roughing up her voice. An Iron Wolf she may be but she was not yet a full-blooded Mandalorian. "Perhaps it would be best for all parties involved if the Confederation made plain what, precisely, it wants from us."

Adelle glanced at Aether then at the collection of Imperials present. "And why the kriff the leaders of our governments are not speaking face to face."

As undiplomatic as she'd been among her former order, even she knew when diplomacy called for a personal touch.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

S O L V I N G_T H E_M A N D A L O R I A N_Q U E S T I O N

IMPERIAL CONFEDERATION
CHOLGANNA, OUTER RIM TERRITORIES

​

Sularen watched as the responses came in from members of the Mandalorian delegation, none of them addressing his main points. Instead he was met with more justifications about Mandalore's animosity towards the Diarchy and a demand to know what the Confederation really wanted along with why the summit was virtual instead of in-person. It was a bit disappointing that the Mandalorians were beating around the bush like this but still Sularen did not waver, unwilling to give up any more ground to their excuses.

Thus once more the Supreme Commander would speak to address Bastiel's statements. "What the Confederation seeks is the same thing you seek from us. Clarity. You've signed a mercenary contract with the Sith Order, a galactic power that has committed far worse atrocities then the Diarchy and which we are already engaged in hostilities with. Yet the moment we merely approach the Diarchy to reconcile past animosities and discuss cooperation against the Galactic Empire, suddenly it becomes a problem." he stated.

"Our problem lies in the hypocrisy of your stance in this whole matter. You accuse us of entraining the Diarchy who have only called for your annihilation yet have an active mercenary contract with the very same people responsible for killing millions if not billions of Imperial citizens when they unleashed hell on Tion. An active mercenary contract that can be leveraged against us when we choose to resume our war against the Sith, which we will inevitably do."

Sularen paused for a second, to catch his breath and give the Mandalorians some time to think about his words so far before eventually resuming. "We do not seek conflict with the Mandalorian Empire but frankly, your contracts with the Sith and now your veiled threats over our rapprochement with the Diarchy has put our respective governments at crossroads, which if not resolved in a proper and decisive matter could result in war."

"As for the reason for why we aren't meeting in person, well i think it's self-explanatory. You've issued a veiled threat to the Confederation in a broadcast where you crucified civilians and speaking from personal experience i would rather not be in the same room with individuals who are willing to issue such threats before even coming to the negotiating table, especially when they broadcast it live to the entire galaxy"

Tags [TIC] | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Ronhar Tane | Her | Onrai | T'zarna Khab
Tags [ME] | Aether Verd | Adelle Bastiel | Runi Kuryida | Renn Vizsla | Raum Varad ​

 

[Aselia Verd]

Aselia stood just off the main camera’s frame. Deliberate. Aether was the image they would fixate on and she was the part of the room they were meant to forget existed.

Her visor was down. Weapons where they belonged. HUD a quiet lattice of telemetry and threat evaluation signal integrity, latency, device fingerprints, and the slow crawl of IDs populating as Confederation feeds joined the secure channel.

A holocall.

She hated holocalls. Not because they were unsafe because they were a convenient distance for people who wanted to probe Mandalore without ever having to stand in the same air as the consequences of their words.

Aether spoke for Mandalore. He always did.

She did not interrupt him. Not until Sularen’s line repeated itself clarity, hypocrisy, veiled threats like the words themselves were leveraged.

Her right hand moved to her own console. She joined from a separate endpoint. Clean. Logged. Independent.

A soft chirp confirmed her line went live.

Her hologram resolved on their end as yet another Mandalorian presence standing at Aether’s right like a blade kept sheathed for ceremony. No flourish. No greeting. Just a voice, filtered and clipped.

“Supreme Commander,” she said, and didn’t bother with his full title beyond what was necessary. “You said you want clarity as well.”

A pause. Not for drama. For emphasis.

“Then accept it when it’s spoken, instead of reshaping it into something you can argue with.”

Her helmet angled slightly, the movement minimal and predatory, not theatrical.

“You keep saying the Sith like it’s a single organism. That’s either ignorance or a choice. Either way, it makes your questions sloppy.” The vocoder stayed calm, but there was an edge underneath it. “Our contract is with Srina Talon. Not with your preferred boogeyman. Not with a creed. A person. A signatory. A retainer with terms, deliverables, and penalties.”

“You call it hypocrisy because you need it to be hypocrisy,” she continued. “It makes your position easier. But if your intelligence officers cannot distinguish between a contracted client and ideological alignment, then you have a competence problem.”

Aselia’s head tilted a fraction.

“Mandalore does not make veiled threats. We do not speak in riddles to spare anyone’s feelings. When we threaten, it is stated plainly, with names attached and consequences described.”

“So don’t hide behind that language to justify why you refused to meet in person. If you’re afraid of what we might say to your face, then at least have the spine to admit it without dressing it up as prudence.”

Her voice didn’t rise. It didn’t need to.

“You want clarity?” she asked, tone flat. “Then here it is again. We judge by outcomes. We do not trade loyalty. We offer service. And we do not pretend your diplomatic courting of our enemies is ‘neutrality’ just because you call it reconciliation.”

Another pause, cold and measured.

“You also said: war and annihilation are different concepts.” The vocoder roughened slightly, not from emotion, but from emphasis. “Correct. Which is why you should be able to recognize the difference between a contract and an alignment.”

Aselia leaned forward a hair just enough to be felt, not enough to be theatrical.

“If you truly want co-existence, stop treating your misunderstandings as moral high ground. Stop conflating Srina Talon with an entire order because it’s convenient to hate her. And stop calling our statements ‘veiled’ when they were spoken plainly enough for the entire galaxy to understand.”

Her hologram held steady beside Aether right edge of the frame, easy to miss.

That was the point. She was the sword, not a diplomat.

TAG: Aether Verd Adelle Bastiel Runi Kuryida Renn Vizsla Raum Varad Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory Ronhar Tane Her Onrai T'zarna Khab
​

 

[T'zarna Khab]

Location: A Confederation Frigate over Ossus
Objective: Look, Listen, Act
Tags: Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory , Her , Marlon Sularen , Onrai , Ronhar Tane
Tags: Aether Verd , Adelle Bastiel , Aselia Verd , Raum Varad , Renn Vizsla , Runi Kuryida

How annoying these Mandalorians were, with their rhetoric of so called honor and duty. Their hive was nothing but a loose grouping of savages. Of all things, they brought a shaman to this meeting. What good was some half-crazed medicine woman in matters of policy? No matter, they could bring whatever primitive belief it was they held, it would avail them not. T'zarna stood from her place amongst the cargo crates. She now appeared as a standing, cloaked figure on the hologram projectors.

With a bit of dramatic flair, she removed her hood, showing her strange insectoid features to the faceless warriors. It was a show that, for once, she had nothing to hide. She glanced at each Mandalorian in turn, before leveling her gaze at Mand'Alor the Iron himself. She showed no fear when confronting the gathering of armored marauders.

"Supreme Commander Sularen speaks to you with respect of an equal, and yet your lessers speak to him as an equal. Calling this meeting professional is beyond an overstatement! You align yourself with a Sith, we align ourselves with Diarchs, I see nothing unfair of this trade. Blood begets blood, and disrespect gets much the same. So I shall thank you to keep your dogs on a tighter leash when in a conversation with the Supreme Commander of the Confederation."

T'zarna was infuriated at the treatment of the hive at the hands of these dogs of war. Mere mercenaries thinking they can be equals in this conversation before The Imperial Confederation. In T'zarna's mind it was the destiny of her hive to command all of the galaxy. These were little more than common thugs, joined by some code of honor that made them little better than hunter-gatherers.

"Your Warmaster in particular could use better training, for he barks as if he is to be feared!" T'zarna's buzzing voice rang our accusatorially towards Renn, whom seemed as keen for battle as she was. "He is no less than an bloodied enforcer of your tenets, is he not? We joined this meeting in hopes of maintaining cordiality between our hives. It seems that your servants did not learn that a closed fist cannot shake a hand, Mand'Alor..."

With that, T'zarna gave the floor to the next in line. It mattered not how they felt about her disruption of decorum. Her feelings were known, and that was what mattered.

 

[Amelia von Sorenn]

​

The chamber's holoprojectors cast long, fractured shadows across the durasteel floor of the Warden's audience hall on Ferrix. At its center stood a single figure, motionless. The armor was Mandalorian in silhouette - beskar plates darkened to a gunmetal sheen, a cloak hanging heavy at the shoulders, and a helmet visor reflecting the ghostly blue light of distant stars. No banners marked her station. No sigils declared allegiance.​

​

Only Stillness.​

​

She said nothing.​

​

Inside the helmet, her jaw tightened.​

​

The Warden of Ferrix watched in silence...​

​

​

​

Aether Verd | Aselia Verd | Ze'bast Verd | Renn Vizsla | Vytal Noctura | Adelle Bastiel | Siv Kryze | Itzhal Volkihar | Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory | Her | Karl Von Strauss | Marlon Sularen | Onrai | T'zarna Khab ​

​

 

[Amalia Visconti | Mira Rhory]

TAG: Karl Von Strauss | Her | Onrai | Marlon Sularen | Aether Verd | T'zarna Khab | Ronhar Tane | Amelia von Sorenn | Aselia Verd | Renn Vizsla | Adelle Bastiel

With every passing moment, Amalia noticed more figures popping up on the holo display, both from the Imperial Confederation as well as the Mandalorian Empire. With each new face, the conversation turned more complex, more sour, with clearly everyone becoming more annoyed and agitated. There was clear friction in both the onset of beliefs and rationale, and with each word uttered in this conversation, the mood didn't improve. Worst of all, was sadly Marlon Sularen , who had proven himself to be quite the gifted tactician, certainly someone who could provoke enemies and stir up the hatred in people, but he lacked the finesse to negotiate without provocation. It wasn't his fault, he was after all, a thoroughbred military man, not a sly politician. It was at meetings like these, conversations like these that usually, the Imperial Confederation would've relied on the more subtle and discrete approach Karl Von Strauss in his position of Exarch was known for.

Aether Verd showed a bit more restraint in his language, a bit more finesse, which made it clear that while his orders and the acts of those who he had given the order were brutal, he wasn't a man beyond reasoning, far from it, his words were clear and concise, just like the supreme commander he didn't have the attitude of a politician, but the approach of a military man...just...less provocative.

Still, the conversation was going nowhere, veiled threats and insults were being thrown from one side to the other, the provocations practically palpable and only a fool would've called this a negotiation after hearing it all.

A long and deep sigh escaped Amalia's lips, followed by a loud clacking of her tongue, a sound sharp and clear enough to interrupt anyone who wasn't actually shouting, a sound designed and intended to draw all the attention to herself from both sides. Slowly, she leaned forwards in her chair, allowing the holo tranmitter to make her look much bigger, more intimidating than she truly was, but it did allow for one particular thing: to show her eyes, two completely emotionless, stern looking eyes which gazed towards each and every member on the holocall.

"Can we stop with this...cacaphony of voices, opinions and insinuations, hmm?" Placing her gloved hands together unto the desk in front of her, Amalia hoped to return the conversation to the core of the question: how would the relationship between the confederation and the Mandalorian Empire be formed, and more importantly maintained. "Allow me to introduce myself, I am Amalia Visconti, Chief Executive Officer of the N&Z Umbrella Corporation. As you all may be aware, my company has given and has been given assurances of mutual cooperation during our meeting with the honorable Warden Siv Kryze ."

She hoped to remind those present of the agreements made and the consequences any hostilities may hold to the termination of what was without question a very beneficial deal for all involved. Not to mention that with the fact they had made such an agreement, unilaterally backing off would damage the reputation for either faction in their own right.

"There are quite a few easy solutions for these...tensions," The woman calmly nodded as she blinked her eyes, as if to reassure herself that her words weren't incorrect at all. "Even if the Confederation were to become allies with the Diarchy, a non-aggression pact can still be formed between the Mandalorian Empire and the Imperial Confederation, providing the necessary assurances that the TIC would NOT step in any conflict between the Diarchy and the Mandalorian empire, unless provoked. On the other hand, the TIC could request a similar deal from the Mandalorian Empire as an assurance against the Sith Order, even if the contract was with the Sith Empress herself, one can not disagree with the mere optics of this agreement, right?"

Lowering her hands, spreading them and shrugging slightly, her mouth suddenly curled into a thin, yet noticeable grin. "Trade can continue to flow, credits can continue to circulate if we simply adhere to a non-aggression agreement. In this case, as long as neither party is directly attacked or confronted by the other signee of this pact, nothing will happen and we can continue on a cordial and honorable path."