Eternal Father
Dathomir
856 ABY
A small military escort, perhaps about ten vessels in all, materialized over the red world of Dathomir. Directly opposite of them was another group of vessels, distinctly different in designation and design from the new arrivals. Clearance codes were exchanged among a flurry of communications between fleet officers of both groups, the ships listing into position over the planet as several shuttles descended from ventral hangar bays to breach the planet’s upper atmosphere.
They swooped over a low plateau overseeing a vast entanglement of thorny protrusions and bramble thickets, hydraulic steam venting from external ducts as each shuttle came to rest upon the rocky outcropping in a wide circle.
The lead shuttle, a tall imposing Imperial design, lowered its disembarkation ramp to allow the passengers inside to emerge out into the mid-morning gloom. Out emerged the Emperor of the Sith, Darth Carnifex, flanked by his closest advisors and adjutants alongside several Crownguard in full battle regalia. Each individual accompanying the Emperor carried weapons as well, as was a tradition when treating with members of the Mandalorian Clans.
Across from them, the Mandalorian delegation assembled as well.
They had come to discuss the future and the price to be paid for it, one that the Sith were willing to accept so long as the Mandalorians were willing to foot the bill.
For a time, an uncomfortable silence swept over the plateau as both parties sized each other up from afar. Then, led by the Sith Emperor, the Imperial delegation began to approach. Slowly at first, only stopping when they had reached the halfway marker between the semi-circles of shuttles.
And he spoke out, his voice carrying on the wind, “Who among you speaks for the Clans?”