Private Stranger in a Strange Land

[Siae Andronike]

Siae Andronike stepped off the leaking, groaning third-class freighter onto the landing pad of the spaceport on Naboo. The clean air and bright sky were a fresh and welcome change from the odorous, stifling conditions of her conveyance. She stretched and hiked her spacer's duffel to balance it better on her shoulder and slowly blended into the throngs of people moving in all directions across the warm tarmac. She breathed deeply as she approached the customs line, and moments later the stern-looking agent called her to step forward,

"Identi-card." Was all the man said, never quite looking up from his viewscreen.

Siae slid the identi-card to him. A moment of truth, she'd thought. For centuries, the Conclave had used forged cards and papers, suggesting its members came from Adumar, rather than Indoumodo. From a certain point of view, she thought, it wasn't wrong. She had gotten on the freighter on Adumar. The identi-card was made by an expert identity slicer, as good as any one might find, and she hoped the credits she'd paid for it would now prove a worthwhile investment. The card did, indeed, check out. However, the nykkalt and durinium in her armor was the next hurdle to be overcome. As the scanner pulsed, buzzed, and made an awful sound, she knew exactly what was about to come. The poor thing was one of those commercial-grade jobs and her armor confounded it. The agent, already sweating through his uniform and obviously annoyed at the circumstances that led him to this place in life, was about to ask her to step out of line for a…closer inspection.

"This stupid thing isn't working!" Said the man, slapping the box again, "Step aside. Wait for inspection."

Siae smiled softly, then raised her hand, moving from one side to the other. "It's okay. My card checks out. No need for any inspections. I should just be on my way." She spoke calmly.

"Uh, yeah, you know what? Your card checks out. There's no need for inspection. Be on your way." Said the man. Siae merely smiled and nodded and moved along.

As she ascended from the landing pads through to the concourse above, she spied a row of vendors and cautiously looked them over. Food on the freighter was nutri-paste. Bland, chalky, and utterly minimalist in every way. She wanted real food. However, she had very little in the way of real money with which to pay for it. Leaving Indoumodo, she'd been given credits by the "Five", but they weren't exactly of profound means, and she had to make her meager supplies last. She found a small stall, with a dirty-looking Sullustan selling something he seemed to be presenting as a bantha kebab and bottles of water. She decided against asking, as the 'bantha' was no doubt an unfortunate monkey-lizard instead, but beggars couldn't be choosers. She bought a kebab and water, then moved towards a shaded spot on the wall across from the vendors to eat. Sliding her duffel behind her as she sat against the wall, the smell of the roasted meat, perhaps a touch over-spiced to cover its real flavor, filled her nostrils.

"The Force provides," Siae chuckled, echoing something one of her masters had once told her, and took a tenuous but eager bite. Rubbery, spicy, and definitely not fresh meat, it tasted delicious all the same. A following swallow of cold water seemed the perfect pairing.

Aether Verd John Locke

 

[Aether Verd]

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

NABOO

The armor always drew attention.

Even on a world as civilized as Naboo, with its history steeped in diplomacy and pageantry, the presence of a fully armored Mandalorian still turned heads. Aether did not blame them. Crimson beskar shimmered beneath the midday sun like lacquered blood, and every hiss of his helmet’s breath modulator seemed to quiet the street around him. The vendor had not even asked for his order. He simply gestured toward the spitted meat and fumbled the water bottle into his gloved hand like a man handing tribute to a dragon.

He accepted both with a small nod of thanks and stepped away.

It was his third day in Theed. The trip was not diplomatic in nature, not really. He had already met with the planetary ministers, paid his respects to Naboo’s Crown, and sat through two too many strategy briefings. Today, he was free. And in that rare sliver of personal time, he walked the old streets, retracing the past not as Mand’alor but as Aether.

Back when he was a boy, his father used to bring him here. Just outside the spaceport gates. The stalls were always half a health violation away from being shut down, but that never stopped them.

"The more questionable it looks, the better it tastes." his father would say, handing him skewered meat charred at the corners. Aether used to laugh with a mouth full of spice, grease dripping down his chin, boots too big and eyes even bigger.

It felt right to come back.

He had noticed the traveler ahead of him before he ordered. A woman, by her posture. Worn duffel slung over a shoulder, armor beneath plain clothes, and a glance that scanned more than it lingered. She looked like someone who had seen too many worlds to be impressed by any of them. When she ordered the kebab and water, he made note of it and asked for the same. For nostalgia’s sake, he told himself.

Now, kebab in hand and the salt-scent of grease tickling the filters in his helm, Aether made his way toward the shaded patch of wall where she had settled. She sat alone, duffel tucked behind her, eyes distant.

He stopped a respectful distance away.

“Is this spot taken?” he asked, voice low but clear through the externalizer of his helmet. His tone was casual, nonthreatening. Just a fellow traveler, hungry for a bite and a memory.​

Siae Andronike , John Locke

 

[Siae Andronike]

Siae looked up at the armored stranger, and smiled softly. "Nope, wall seats are free today. You're in luck." She smiled again, adding, "Although, monkey-lizard on a stick is just so-so. No one marinates anymore." She said, with a chuckle and a sigh, happy to see someone's friendly face, even if it was covered in beskar. "Your armor won't protect against the inevitable heartburn, I am afraid, Mandalorian."

Siae slid herself and her duffel over to make room for the large, armored stranger. His crimson armor was by no means common, and his demeanor wasn't the gruff, laconic, and almost ubiquitously haughty style she'd come to expect from followers of the Way. This one was different, somehow. More, she could sense the Force was coursing through him. Very different. Historically, she'd been taught, the Mandalorians were skeptical of the Force, and those sensitive enough to wield it. But this man, this Mandalorian, he practically wore it like he did his armor. Unsettlingly, Siae could sense the Dark Side within him too, but – she forced herself to remember – this was not the galaxy of the holo-books she'd learned in her lessons in the Conclave. She'd visited many worlds, and few of them held the civilized niceties of Naboo, but if her many excursions and forays into the galaxy beyond Indoumodo had taught her anything, it was that the textbooks were woefully out of date.

"What brings you to Naboo? It's a long way from Mandalore. I hear that there's a new Manda'lor. He calls himself the "Beskar" or something, no? And, this time, he is also calling himself 'Emperor'. What are your thoughts?" Siae smiled again. If nothing else, Mandalorians loved to discuss their culture, their war stories, and their world. She had always admired their fierce passion for where they'd come from and the casual loyalty that filled them. Perhaps this one, different as he seemed, wasn't so different after all. As she waited for a reply, half-expecting a grunted dismissal, she took another bite of her kebab. Definitely not bantha, she thought, then refocused her attention on the armored man beside her, rather than to consider the alternatives of what her lunch might actually be.

Aether Verd John Locke

 

[Aether Verd]

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

NABOO

Aether gave a small tilt of his head in thanks and settled beside her with a quiet hiss of hydraulics and armor plates. The stone was still warm from the sun, and the wall behind them cast a deep shadow that cut the heat just enough.

“Appreciate it.” he said simply.

He raised the kebab in a gloved hand, then lifted the front of his helmet just high enough to take a bite. The hiss of vacuum seal broke the moment before the meat met his teeth. Charred edges. Just enough grease. Smoke. A flash of heat on the tongue. He chewed, thoughtful.

Then chuckled.

“You’re right,” he said, helmet still half-raised. “No one marinates anymore.”

The bite wasn’t bad. Just… different. It was good in the way things were good when your expectations were low and the memory was sweeter. When the world was smaller. When your father stood beside you and made even street meat feel sacred.

“Used to taste better when I was a kid,” he said, lowering the helmet back into place with a soft click. “Could be the cook. Could be the years. Either way, I’ll brave the heartburn. Nostalgia taxes the gut, it turns out.”

He took another bite, slower this time, then unscrewed the cap of the water bottle. The first sip was clean, icy, perfect. Naboo’s water always had a certain pride to it. Even their plumbing had decorum.

Aether wiped a gloved thumb across the bottle’s lip before resting it against his thigh.

Her question lingered. The kind that told you something about the person asking it.

He glanced her way. “Mmm,” he mused aloud, voice low behind the modulator. “I’m here rubbing elbows. Nobles, ministers, a few dignitaries who make boredom feel like an art form. They say you should see the heart of a world if you mean to understand it. So. Here I am.”

He paused, then let out a dry little breath of amusement.

“As for the new Mand’alor…” He turned his helm slightly, as if confiding a secret. “He calls himself Iron, actually. Has a flair for names.”

Aether let the words sit.

Then added with just enough weight behind them to be felt:

“I would know.”

He didn’t puff his chest or shift his voice. He didn’t need to. He simply watched her, tone unassuming, as if he were still just another traveler on a break from the past.

“Though I can’t speak to the Emperor part,” he added, a snarky edge entering his tone. “Sounds exhausting.”

He took one last bite, savoring it despite the flaws, then leaned back a little against the wall, the silence between them open, welcoming, even. Not the kind that shut down conversation.

But the kind that made room for it.​

Siae Andronike

 

[Siae Andronike]

"A Mandalorian diplomat," Siae began, considering the notion, "Do they make those? Isn't that like a Hutt being a runway model - just not a role one might imagine for them?" She grinned, taking another bite of the mystery meat kebab.

"Nostalgia eh, so you must have spent some time here, and by your tone, I gather you have traveled extensively? I have done some also, though rarely was it any opportunity to explore the worlds and cultures there. More..." Siae paused, considering how best to go on, "More of a scavenger hunt than a holiday, if that makes sense."

"But, here I am now. Free, blight, and old enough to know better, and just trying to figure out what's next, you know?"

Siae finished her kebab, and with practiced accuracy, threw the skewer like a dart, easily landing it into the rubbish bin about twenty meters from them. Leaning back against her duffel, she breathed deeply, grateful for the welcome feeling of actual food - such as it was - settling in her stomach. She savored the mid-day sunlight as it fell onto her face, a rare moment of peace.

"Iron, huh? Not altogether original but suited to Mandalorian aesthetics. Better the iron than cubism, am I right?" She grinned again, "And, yeah, I imagine being 'emperor' is a taxing job, what with the budget meetings, the ins and outs of infrastructure development, those pesky crusades always getting in the way of a good time. I don't blame you for being a diplomat. It's been my experience that Mandalorians are people of action, rather than negotiation. Honestly, I admire that...the 'Codes' of your people, being willing and ready to defend what is yours and what you believe in. It's something I was raised with too, although perhaps a scosh differently than you."

Siae earnestly meant to continue the conversation, grateful for a friendly and seemingly decent company after all. "Tell me, noble Mando, what's your name? Mine is," Siae paused, considering revealing her name, then opting to go ahead she continued, "Siae...Siae Andronike."

Aether Verd John Locke

 

[Aether Verd]

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

NABOO

Aether let out a low chuckle, shoulders shifting slightly under the weight of his armor.

“Hold on now,” he said, voice colored with amusement. “Mandalorian diplomat is a stretch.”

He took another bite of his kebab, chewing slowly as she spoke. There was a rhythm to the way she talked: honest, a little wry, tinged with the sort of reflection that came from people who’d seen more than their fair share.

He nodded along.

“Visited Naboo a lot as a kid,” he said after a moment, glancing toward the skyline like it might remember him. “My father’s work had him here often. Back then, it was all grand halls and foreign accents. The kind of place that made you sit up straighter, even when no one was watching.”

He took another sip of water, then leaned forward slightly, resting an elbow against his thigh.

“But otherwise? I stuck close to home. Krant. The Shiraya Expanse. Mandalore.”

Places with less ceremony, more gravity.

She joked about the name, Iron, and he gave a quiet grunt that might’ve passed for a laugh. “Not altogether original, you’re right. But I chose it for what it represents. Beskar’s the lifeblood of our people. We wear it from the cradle to the pyre. It’s more than armor: it’s inheritance. Memory. Identity.”

His gaze softened just slightly, unseen behind the helm, but audible in the weight of his words.

“I want my reign to be like that. Steadfast. Enduring. Not flashy, not loud. Just something they can count on when everything else falls apart.”

He leaned back, one boot shifting against the cobbled edge of the plaza.

“Sure, there’s demand. Budget meetings, infrastructure planning, peace treaties, trade disputes…” He exhaled, a dry edge to the list. “But if that’s the price to make sure our clans don’t go hungry, don’t splinter? I’ll show up early to every meeting with caf in hand and a smile on my face.”

Her mention of codes drew a hum from him.

“You said you were raised with codes too. I’m curious...what kind? Warrior tradition? Family doctrine? Or something else?”

When she finally gave her name, there was something clear-eyed in the way she said it. Like a line drawn in sand...cautious, but willing.

Aether inclined his head. “Well met, Siae Andronike.”

He gave a faint smile, voice easy now.

“My name is Aether Verd.”

No fanfare. No titles. Just the name. The man beneath the helm.

And with that, he took another bite of his kebab, content to let the next question be hers.​

Siae Andronike + John Locke

 

[John Locke]

"Sounds like you've discovered the wonders of leadership there."

It was almost a ritual. Every flight back from off planet when he was stopping off in Thebes and he'd pick up a kebab from the vendor outside the spaceport as a little treat to himself. Just a few moments to vanish into the crowd that milled around the spaceport before he'd head back to the office, and whatever crisis or issue was waiting for him there. However, it seemed that today he'd have some company while eating. The man gave Aether a nod as he held kebab away from his suit, it would hardly do to show up at the office with a ruined outfit, hardly the professional look he tended to strive for.

"You know, I always thought that honour was the lifeblood o the Mandalorians The galaxy is full off all kinds of well spoken, or impressive folks who can talk a good game, but when it comes down to it they'll fold. I've always found, love them or hat them, if a Mandalorians swears to something then you know it's true…unless it's your father swearing that he beat me at chess cause we all know what tall tales he likes to weave. This one time he told me how he threw his apprentice off a cliff, as if he'd ever do that."

The man's dark eyes twinkled with humour for a moment as he let the memory of the moment soak in before the corner of his lips twitched up into a fond smile. While the world shifted and changed, there was some comfort in knowing that some things never would.

The older man's eyes slid past Ather to offer the Mandalorian's companion a small nod of greeting.

"My apologies for intruding in your conversation Ms Andronike, I saw Aether here and deiced to come and say hi for a moment."

Aether Verd | Siae Andronike

 

[Siae Andronike]

"The more the merrier." Siae motioned to the stranger, making room for him to join them. She turned to Aether, taking the totality of his words into review, then spoke – her lips curling into a wry smile, "Wait…you chose the name? You're telling me, honestly, that the man in the very hard shirt, eating something that we're all just agreeing is bantha, contrary to instinct, is the freakin' Mandalorian Emperor?" Siae paused, "I have been on Naboo less than an hour, and I am sitting here with the Mandalorian Emperor. That's…well, it's nice to make your acquaintance, Aether Verd." Siae extended her hand to the man.

Turning to the other man, she spoke, "And you're…? I presume you know Aether's father quite well. But you don't seem to be a Mandalorian either." Siae looked into his eyes, noting the faint presence of something cybernetic within him. It was 'masked', but not enough to slip past a Conclave Warden.

"So, I assume your father was Emperor too?" Siae asked. "Not to brag or anything, but mine's an art teacher."

Siae paused, waiting to reply to Aether's question, but – she said to herself – why the frak not? Throwing caution to the wind, she spoke, "I…I went to a different kind of school. It's…it's um, closed, now. I was the last one to um, graduate. Recently, actually, but it…it was an experience." Siae shifted a bit, allowing her mind to settle the many changes and revelations she'd experienced as she waited for the men's response.

Aether Verd John Locke

 

[Aether Verd]

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

NABOO

Aether set the remainder of his kebab aside, then reached out and clasped Siae’s hand with a firm, respectful grip, his touch warm despite the metal of his gauntlet. “The pleasure is all mine.” he said with a quiet kind of sincerity. “And you’re not wrong, I did choose the name. Might’ve missed my chance to go with something more dramatic like 'The Mawstorm' or 'Emperor Flameheart,' but I figure one honest word carries more weight than ten grand ones.”

His gaze lingered for a moment as she mentioned her school, not missing the way she framed it. Aether nodded, his tone softening. “The last to graduate... that’s no small thing. You carry more than just the lessons, then. You carry the legacy. The weight. Not everyone could stand up under that.” There was no pity in the way he said it, only respect, threaded with something quieter beneath the words. Understanding, maybe.

Movement caught the corner of his eye, and when he turned to see the suited man approaching, Aether’s entire demeanor shifted. His voice lifted with sudden warmth, and without waiting for formality, he rose slightly and reached out, throwing one arm around the man in a half-embrace that could only be described as unapologetically familial.

“Uncle!”

Aether chuckled as he stepped back, gesturing toward the man like he was revealing a secret. “This right here is John Locke. One of the Galaxy’s most brilliant minds and, on top of that, one of my favorite people walking it.” He gestured to the space beside them. “Join us. Steal some time before the next crisis tries to blow up your inbox.”

Then, with a wry grin directed toward John, he added, “And let the record show, my father beat the brakes off you in chess. Every single time. The cliff story? Sounds about right to me. If you’re not getting thrown off cliffs, is it even real training?”

His tone was playful but fond, eyes flicking between the two with an ease that hadn’t been there earlier. This moment, here, with old memories and new acquaintances, felt almost like home.​

John Locke , Siae Andronike

 

[John Locke]

"Not an emperor no, a maths teacher and a salesman, not exactly the stuff legends are made of, but they did their best by us."

Life for the Locke family on Corellia hadn't been easy, they'd never been truly poor but more often than not the family forwent vacations and the luxuries taken by their relatives in order to eke out those small amenities they wanted. Little things like being able to go out to eat once in a while, or sneaking off to buy a kebab from a street vendor as a treat. Now, he had all the money in the world, but still there was something about the kebab vendor that remained packed with all the seasoning that only memories could bring.

A wry smile danced across the man's features the man's lips, slipping an arm around Aether's shoulders to squeeze them for a moment before shifting back to catch his food before it could slip.

"He would tell you that wouldn't he?"

A laugh escaped John's lips as he nodded amiably in Siae's direction

"Nice to meet you, now I'm going to have to manufacture some kind of crisis to live up to that kind of praise. And there's nothing wrong with alternative education, the most important lessons I ever learned were in a mechanics shop, I learned more there than I ever did in any real school."

Siae Andronike | Aether Verd

 

[Siae Andronike]

"It's not everyday one finds oneself, sitting with an Emperor and a zillionaire, eating what we all have just decided to agree is meat, perched against a wall. I wish I had a bottle of something other than water to celebrate this moment, however, my resources are neither imperial nor corporate-sponsored at the moment. Please forgive me, though I do appreciate the company." Siae said, suddenly feeling a bit overwhelmed at the unexpected company and a touch of the 'third wheel', given the close bond the two men seemed to share.

Turning to the armor-clad royal seated to one side, she summons the courage to speak, "You, um, don't happen to know if your Empire is hiring, do you? I mean, I type a few mis-spelled words an hour, have terrible comm skills, and I don't want to brag, but I can make a mean take-out!" Siae awkwardly laughs at her own joke, feeling suddenly nervous in her own skin. However, she was only half-kidding, as she had fewer credits than she cared to admit and had no idea where she'd be sleeping tonight and just hoped the Naboo police went easy on those camping in their parks. Turning to the elder businessman, she went on, "You too, any..um, any openings for a woman of unusual skills and background with virtually no corporate experience and a plucky, can-do smile?" Siae smiled awkwardly.

She wasn't lying. Growing up in the Conclave meant having a very, very unusual skillset. She rocked her hips, feeling the lightsaber at her back. Being a Conclave Warden meant being adept at a great many things: Piloting small craft, hunting big game, investigations, infiltration, sabotage, and the ability to survive in most any place. Asymmetrical warfare was always the Conclave's method of operations. We'd never been very big or had many resources, so we made up for in new and creative ways, keeping us safe, secure, and above all, secret. But now, she was the last Warden, on her final orders: To go into the galaxy, find a way to keep her - keep their - story alive. Beyond that, it was the usual direction: Improvise, Adapt, Survive, and Overcome.

Sitting beside the Mandalorian Emperor, she reflected on the vast similarities between them and the Conclave. After all, we both wear armor, we both cling to our cultures and beliefs, and we're both willing to die for them if we must. Of course, Siae didn't wear a bucket on her head. Her style was the Conclave way, to blend, to disappear in plain sight, to obfuscate, infiltrate, investigate, and then - when the moment came - to act, decisively. Turning to look at Locke once more, then at the skyline of the Nubian city rising around her, the ancient domes and lush garden walks, and the promise this Republic held. It was why she came here, chose this place. And, for reasons she couldn't fathom, she felt the Force hadn't sent her the gift of the two companions now sharing a moment or two with her. Siae admired these men, despite having met them only a few minutes before. A humble emperor, scion and leader of perhaps the galaxy's proudest sect, and a mysterious businessman, and judging by his attire and manners, one who had both means and stories to tell, yet, both were sitting with her, a strange girl, eating kebabs of uncertain provenance, smiling and merely appreciating a simple moment. Siae sensed the bond between them, a bond - she deduced - likely that was mirrored between the Mandalorians and the Republic here on Naboo. A bond which, she wondered, might also hold the promises of possibility and opportunity for herself - if the Force should will it so.

Aether Verd John Locke

 

[Aether Verd]

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

NABOO

Aether took another bite of his kebab as John wrapped an arm around his shoulders, and he returned the embrace with equal warmth. There was something grounding about this, about shared food and old company beneath a bright Naboo sky. He chewed slowly while John offered his dry little jab, swallowing just in time to nod and gesture with his kebab.

“You know as well as I do, my father would take any excuse to be cocky. That chessboard never stood a chance, and he made sure everyone knew it.”

He leaned back against the wall, motioning with a lazy hand toward the beskar that covered most of his frame.

“If you’re going to manufacture anything, it should be a friends and family discount for the Empire,” he said, grin pulling at the corner of his mouth. “We’ll call it the Uncle John tax bracket.”

The laugh that followed was easy and unguarded, born from a real place. Then he returned to the kebab, tearing off another piece just as Siae spoke. Her words caught him mid-chew, and the timing nearly made him snort, though he managed to contain it with a laugh and a quick swig from his water flask.

“I appreciate the company too,” he said, still smiling as he wiped his mouth with the back of his glove. “Right now, I figure we’re just three souls with great taste and strong stomachs, which puts us ahead of most in this galaxy.”

He considered her next words with a more thoughtful expression, tapping his chin with two fingers before letting his hand fall to rest on his knee. His voice came gentler now, the grin returning with a touch of encouragement behind it.

“There’s always room for more in my Empire,” he said plainly. “Doesn’t matter what your background is, or how you got here. If you’ve got something to offer, I’ll find the right place for you. And who knows... maybe next time I pass through Naboo, you’ll be the zillionaire keeping a traveler company over questionable street food.”

He raised his water like a toast, the smile never leaving his face.​

Siae Andronike + John Locke

 

[John Locke]

John glanced down at the kebab in his hands before letting the corners of his lips curl up for a moment as he lifted his kebab to return Aether's toast. "You know, I wouldn't be so sure about that, there are some places I've seen where they serve food that makes a simple street kebab seem plain." Sometimes you'd visit odd planets in the galaxy and find out that the feasts they'd put on to celebrate a deal completed contained local delicacies that would make your eyes boggle in wonder. John had mostly found those delicacies were a form of hazing, but sometimes, once in a blue moon, you'd find something you actually enjoyed, something you'd never have tried otherwise.

It was funny how hte galaxy did that, would throw the most random things your way, the odd event or encounters, or dishes you might try. Sometimes, nay most of the time, they proved to be nothing, small diversions that proved nothing but a way to loose time. Small slices of your day carved out in the name of adventure. But sometimes, once in a while, you'd stumble across the proverbial diamond in the rough, something that made it all worthwhile. He didn't know if this was one of those diversions, or the discovery of a diamond in the rough.

"I'm not sure that I can match the offer of an empire, but you don't need to be a business mastermind, or a genius engineer to make your way or work. There's always a job somewhere to suit your skill and abilities. I'm sure we'll find you something to to, somewhere to fit in. Just take my advice, don't do the zillionaire thing, you never end up having any fun, you have to send other people out to do all the fun things while you sit back and watch." His eyes cut over towards Aether. "Sound familiar?"

Siae Andronike | Aether Verd

 

[Siae Andronike]

"Alright then, what do I have to do?" Siae said, turning to Aether Verd , "I don't bring a lot of resources, but I do have a certain selection of skills and experience, if that helps?"

Siae then turned to John Locke and spoke. "The same thing applies. I have a very broad set of abilities, and if given the opportunity to put them to use, for the right price, I am sure I won't let you down. The fact is, gentlemen, I need work. Not just cooking kebabs, either, but the kind that pays and pays well. I am not high maintenance, but I have ambitions of my own. I admire the Mandalorians - always have - and as I understand it, and by the loosest of understanding, I do meet the basic criteria of your code, your Highness," Siae said, turning to the armored emperor seated beside her. Then, turning back to Locke, "I can do a lot, and you're a man with connections and reputation. A word or two from you would carry weight, and go a very long, long way."

Picking up her duffel bag, Siae stood. "So, let's get this party started. What do you both need from me?"

Aether Verd John Locke

 

[Aether Verd]

Aether let his grin grow as John lifted his kebab in return, the simple gesture speaking volumes in a galaxy where trust was rare and friendship even rarer. He chuckled low at the mention of exotic cuisine and the misadventures that tended to follow.

“You’re not wrong.” he said, the smile still tugging at his mouth. “I once got roped into a banquet on Chalacta that involved something still moving on the plate. They said it was a delicacy...I said I had a policy against chasing my dinner.”

The laughter lingered, but it softened as John offered his advice to Siae and turned his gaze his way once more. Aether rolled his shoulders, letting the beskar shift with a quiet groan of metal.

“I’m not so far removed as all that.” he said, tilting his head toward Locke with something between amusement and reflection. “But I take your point. I try to keep my hands in the dirt when I can. It’s easy to forget the weight of things when all you do is watch from above.”

His attention turned fully to Siae then, his expression thoughtful, his words chosen with care. She had stood, not with pride or arrogance, but with intent, and that mattered more to him than polished titles or a spotless past.

“If you’re asking what I need,” he began, tone gentler now, “then for starters, I have need of minds who know their way around ships. Fighters, freighters, old warbirds limping through hyperspace. Our expansion means new hangars, new routes, and new headaches. If you know starships, we could use you.”

He let the words settle a moment before continuing.

“But truth is, the Empire always finds room for those who can carry their weight. Whatever your skills, they will be put to use. So long as you’re willing to swear your loyalty to Mandalore and stand when called, you’ll never be wasted on street food stalls unless that’s where you want to be.”

He offered his water again, not as a toast this time, but as a gesture of welcome.

“This is a place where ambition meets purpose. If you’re ready for that, then we’re already off to a good start.”

John Locke , Siae Andronike​

 

[John Locke]

Wearing: Would you believe, a suit?​

_________________________________________________

Naboo ​

Tagging: Siae Andronike | Aether Verd
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"I wouldn't be so quick to dismiss street food stalls, you hear a lot while you're standing out here and people don't normally think twice about talking in front of you."

Most of the market stalls and vendors who were set up near the Locke and Key headquarters made a good stipend for listening out for conversations. He knew that several of them had formed contracts with more than one of his employees. Truth was that office politics was a serious concern, and people would do anything to get ahead even if it meant bribing vendors to eavesdrop on their rivals. If he could only turn that energy, those plots and plans onto their competition there wouldn't be a company out there that could match the dominance of LKM, but sadly people were more concerned with how they would get ahead instead of shepherding the company they worked for to a stronger position.

"My needs are a little different, I have people who can make new technologies and run the factories. What I really need is information. What new markets are opening, what events taking place in the galaxy will I need to respond to and take a position on. A new war between the Sith and Diarchy for example would mean a new market for weapons, but also an increased demand for humanitarian technologies and resources to meet the refugee crisis that will ensue. I need to know what my competitors are upto, and where they're moving their resources, anything that would impact me, or give me an opportunity to gain an advantage. I've got agents all across the galaxy feeding me information, and acting to make sure we stay ahead of our competition, and goverments. Gotta avoid taxes and oversight wherever possible after all."

The man took a final bite of his kebab, the wrapper screwed up into a ball which he tossed through the air into a nearby bin.

"I don't demand loyalty, but I reward it, and disloyalty is paid back with steep interest. I'm sure I can find a mission or two you might enjoy, but," a smile curled up John's face, "unlike Mandalore here, I can't guarantee that you're going to be able to avoid the kebab carts."

 

[Siae Andronike]

"So then, it would appear that you both have need of someone capable of acting as your eyes and ears, able to venture out across the galaxy to scout, gather information, and - if the need arises - to act on those discoveries in your stead?" Siae said, considering both men's offers. She thought about this carefully, then continued, "I believe that is something I can do. My - education - prepared me, quite well actually, for such a role. Scouting, surveying, infiltration, intelligence gathering, covert and clandestine actions, these were among our curriculum surely. I accept each of your kind offers." Siae paused, choosing her next words carefully, "But I need you to understand, I am not an assassin, nor do I intend to become one. I will be your eyes and ears, even a scalpel if such things require, but I am not interested in trading my soul for credits. I can, and will, kill if I must, and have before. But you're asking for a scout and a spy, and that is exactly what I will be for you."

Siae, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she stood up, went on, "However, travel, perhaps some adventure, might be fun, and beside the clarification I just made, my only other caveats are these: First, I report to you two and you alone. You point, I go. But, I need to know I can work without funneling my efforts through any bureaucracies, answering droids, or committees. The nature of what you're asking requires that lines of communication, support, and direction be as direct and unhindered as possible. And the second is, well, kind of embarrassing...my resources are low, to say the very least, so I will just be blunt. I will need some funds, and access to support, equipment, various services and the sort. We're not talking an all expense penthouse in Zeltros, but I will need to establish some kind of base of operations and so forth. I would prefer it to be off-world, to operate away from any perception that I am either of your agent. So, if it's not too much to ask, an expense account or advance on things would be a great help."

Siae paused, then said, "However, I am not trying to be greedy about this, so let me make my request a bit easier. Mr. Locke, Your Highness, I might guess each of you pays quite well for people who do for you the things you're each asking me to do. I will accept half the salary from each of you, to offset my start-up funds, and you two may consider me a shared asset if you like. I am sure the Mandalorian Empire and Locke & Key can each help to provide me with sufficient funds and resources, but by this agreement, the outlay for each of you is lessened. What say you? Do we have a deal? If so, Mr. Locke, I presume you can set up an account discreetly for me here on Naboo, but accessible anywhere, and can arrange for me to have a Republic passport and papers? And, Your Highness, I am going to need you to administer the Resol'nare, and confer me citizenship in the Mandalorian Empire. I will handle the rest."

John Locke Aether Verd

 

[Aether Verd]

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

NABOO

Aether listened without interruption, helm tilted ever so slightly as Siae set down her terms with the clarity of one who had considered her path long before this moment. When she finished, he inclined his head, the gesture carrying approval rather than reproach.

“Then let us make this plain,” he said, his tone even yet edged with conviction. “I would have you serve as one of my Nite Owls. Their charge is simple to name, though not so simple to live. They are the eyes and ears of Mandalore, scattered across the stars to keep our people informed, to ensure that no threat grows unseen and no opportunity passes us by. Some among them perform the bloody work that survival demands, but not all. Each Owl is given roles suited to their own gifts. If your skills demand subtlety over slaughter, then so shall it be.”

He folded his arms across his chest, voice carrying the gravity of choice rather than command. “As for what binds you to us, there are two paths. You may become Mandalorian in truth, swearing the six tenets of the Resol’nare. If you take this road, your culture is joined with ours, and you will walk as kin forevermore. Or, you may swear the Caburian Creed, pledging loyalty to the Empire itself. In this, your allegiance is certain, but you will not be expected to wear armor with every sunrise. Both paths are honored. Both strengthen our people. The choice rests with you.”

He let the words breathe a moment before stepping forward, resting a gauntleted hand upon the table between them. His eyes found hers with steady warmth. “Once you have spoken your choice, you will have what you require. Your funds, your support, your freedom to move where you must. You asked for a beginning, and so I place it here before you.”

The faintest trace of a smile touched his lips as he finished. “So tell me, Siae. Will you swear as Mandalorian, or as citizen? Either way, your place is here, and your work begins now.”​

Siae Andronike , John Locke