Mia Monroe
"The question comes down to how much and why." Onrai said. Barring the fact the Mandalorian Protectors were not a homogenous group - the same as any Mandalorians - Onrai knew that the Alliance was never going to give them the necessary money and resources to restore Mandalore, since it would mean losing an excuse to keep the mercenaries on an allegorical leash. That was the key - if the Mandalorians were actually given the resources to restore their world, there was no reason for them to be forced into long-term loyalty to a government that would end up inevitably collapsing in due time - especially know that the Imperial knife had been driven into the heart of the Alliance and was edging ever closer to their capital. Thus there would never be conflict between the Mandalorians and the emerging new order in the Galactic Core, one that looked to soon devour the Alliance from the inside out.
Of course, there would be inevitably complications, but those were things to be dealt with later.
"Dead never-gods aren't exactly the most reliable of patrons. That said, the archaeological finds from their tombs would certainly be worth an entire Coruscanti district." She said, before reaching into the inky blackness of her being and withdrawing a datapad. Setting it on the table, a series of numbers and holographic images began to emerge - accounts worth the trillions of credits, molecular furnaces, and a labor force in question, both mechanical and fleshy in form.
"What I want is the service of the Protectors and for them to not end up becoming an enemy of circumstance through the long-term shackles of a galactic government whose interests are in giving you just enough to quiet complaints, but not enough to make a difference. What I offer you is everything you need to rebuild your devastated world of 4 million souls with the full and explicit knowledge that you will neither be subjugated as a result - by the powers-that-be with those I mingle with, or by the Alliance - nor that I am guaranteed by long-term circumstance that all I offer will not be destroyed again by things far outside by control. Credits, worth more than the Alliance's trickling faucet of funds. Devastator-grade molecular furnaces to directly reprocess waste and rubble into usable building materials. An industrial and willing labor force comprised of decades of current and former soldiers, droids, and even Panathan refugees - none of whom are enslaved or coerced to serve in any way. Your world would not be the first they've rebuilt, and I'm sure it won't be the last." Holograms emerged from the datapad showcasing that the same resources and people she was offering to Mia had already rebuilt the equally ruined worlds of Kinoss and Ool, devastated during the past Mawite incursions into Chiss space, into worlds as equally populous and industrious as pre-devastation Mandalore had been.
"And if the material benefits alone of having a rebuilt Mandalore to call home are genuinely not enough, you gain an ally in the emerging new galactic order that can minimize any risk of long-term harm to your world and territories." Were the Force-sensitive being to attempt to divine whether there was malice, subterfuge, or underlying schema behind the offer in question, she would likely be surprised to find that there was none, along with no attempt by Onrai to disguise or otherwise mask her motivations that had been made most plain.
Onrai's milky eyes looked at Mia from within the sub-charcoal void of her existence. She had offered the Mandalorian leader the deal of a lifetime, the allegorical 'offer that could not be refused,' and provided her with every possible receipt showcasing her benignity, that the resources to rebuild Mandalore were in fact available to her, and lastly, that she had already done the exact same for other worlds in question. To say at this point that she was curious to see Mia's response was an understatement - this had the potential to be a particularly curious change in galactic fortunes.