Private The Anvil and the Hammer

[Alicio Organa]

General Ministry Canton, Fondor
Office of the Chancellor, Evening
​

There was no tea waiting for Jenn, this time.

The Chancellor's office was sparsely decorated. By now, Alicio would have preferred to make the space his own, add some decorations beside the portable burner in the corner, the holotable in the center of the room, and the large chair that had come with his new station. No statues from Alderaan, no blue or black theming, not even a potted plant, as much as he would've wanted those things.

His new title as Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance had thus far afforded him many things... but not time.

He was currently staring out the large, curving window, letting his eyes scan absently over the bustling city beyond, the criss-crossing skyways, the distant hum of engines. Fondor was a manufacturing giant, and despite all the stresses he was under, he found the industriousness of the world oddly calming. Watching people with their own lives, worries, hopes, joys, going about their days... it made his own burdens seem less, by comparison.

Just as quickly, though, he'd remember himself, and the talk he was about to have. And his brow creased all over again.

He didn't turn to look at Jenn as she would walk in, but he spoke all the same, his voice quiet and hesitant.

"I'm worried about this meeting, you know."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor
| Objective | To meet the highest of authorities. A friend, too.

None could have predicted such a turn of events. Jenn Kryze, least of all.​

​

A Mandalorian expanding their skillset into the realm of diplomacy and politics was an extraordinary enough event to be noted, but even such examples of the woman's forward-thinking mindset paled in comparison to the courage it took for her to stand where she did, when so many of her own people sought to tear down all that she had built. They called her a traitor, a deluded fool, ensorcelled by the Jedi; if they were to win this war, then all memory of her good deeds would be stamped out, and her legacy naught but a hapless whimper. ​

​

Yet still, she stood. Weary, but undaunted. Unvanquished.​

​

Alicio had ever sought to keep his encounters with Jenn... personal. Doing away with his personal guard, or otherwise keeping them out of sight and out of mind; an effort she had ever sought to reciprocate. Whenever the two approached one another, they did so on equal footing, treating one another as friends before taking into account their stations and the demands made by such. ​

​

Something had changed, now. Few burdens in the Galaxy were more demanding than that of the seer's new office, and only time would tell if the remarkable man she had come to respect would prove himself up to the challenge. There would be no more chances for their simpler meetings, she realized, when the security measures put in place were brought to bear; the Chancellor's guard checked her identity twice, though they conspicuously skimmed over the surrender of her weapons. No doubt a directive from her gracious host himself; evidently, he must have asked for such an exception in person.​

​

It almost made her hesitate, when she reached the threshold of his office, his back turned to her. Alas, her duty would not allow it, and so she stepped through, and spoke as truly as ever, no matter how heavily it weighed upon her. ​

​

"There is more than enough cause to be worried", agreed the Mandalorian grimly. "If your Sight has allowed you to see what will happen in this conversation already, then you know I come with requests, demands, and other such things I would rather not burden a friend with. But this is not who we are today, is it? You are here as the Supreme Chancellor of the Galactic Alliance - a body I've had very little choice in joining, given Onderon's precarious position and King Vince's decision to have us join forces. And I am the voice of not merely a growing House of Mandalorian warriors, but an entire world's military; their defender in all things, bound by oath to ensure they can be safe."​

​

Coming right out of the gate swinging, perhaps, but Jenn had no intention of wasting the Chancellor's precious time. Not when he had stars-only knew how many worlds as his responsibility, billions of lives, and three concurrent wars to win in order to ensure the continued survival of the body he was elected to represent. That her siren's song now wove itself effortlessly into her voice was but a necessity, she told herself; repressing it took a conscious effort on her part, and made her not more, but less. If her every diplomatic venture required that she suppress a significant part of her very nature, then she may as well just throw in the towel right away. Sithspawn or not, she would not endure if she kept on denying what she truly was.​

​

"I trust you as an individual, Alicio, but the government you represent? No. I may be a Reformer, but I am not so idealistic as to believe that your Senate would not throw away the lives of my House to serve their interests, and discard us the moment we decide to call them out on it."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"You've put it rather succinctly, Jenn Kryze. And here I was, thinking I might retain an aire of mystery." The Chancellor let his frown abate, finding some grim humor in the moment, before letting his dark mood take over again.

"I trust you as an individual, Alicio, but the government you represent? No. I may be a Reformer, but I am not so idealistic as to believe that your Senate would not throw away the lives of my House to serve their interests, and discard us the moment we decide to call them out on it."

Alicio tensed his jaw, then forced himself to smoothen it. "Then I suggest you treat me not as Alicio the individual, but as the Galactic Alliance. Because serving the Alliance's interests must be my primary goal now, too." As much as it pained him. "Trillions of people count on me for protection, now. I... I can't afford to be anything else."

Alicio paused. His voice had gotten raw there, for a moment. He hadn't meant to do that. He took a slow breath before continuing.

"And I'm simply going to hope that our friendship survives."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor - Office of the Chancellor
| Objective | Negotiations, diplomacy, politics... warfare.

"I was lakōnikos, once, though I believe you never quite got to experience that aspect of me. You've always found a way to get me to speak, and these days... I can hardly ever be the strong, silent type anymore. But I know how to speak to seers, now. One needs but assume they already know what comes ahead. A small mercy that I've not had to face one in battle just yet." A Mandalorian's view of life, as ever, inextricably wrapping itself around war. There was nothing to life but the endless struggle; the next fight, then the next, then the one after that, forever. Where some found this prospect of endless war bleak, Jenn found purpose within that sweet promise. A Galaxy where she would always be valued, her craft ever in demand. ​

​

The helm remained, answering the Chancellor's words with naught but silence... and the inhuman gaze of her visor, for which her kind was known throughout the stars. Harbingers of death and destruction, mighty conquerors, indomitable foes. Though so very stern in her demeanor, she offered a small, if vigorous tap of her fist against her breastplate and over her heart in response to his declaration. "I understand, Chancellor." ​

​

Such was their lot. Duty before self, always; their failures could only reflect on the people they were sworn to represent. Personal feelings of friendship were best left at the door, and so she embodied what her station had made her; a rising star, blazing the trail of her own redemption and taking her warrior-knights along with her. With every diplomatic venture, every battle won, every defeat survived, her legend only grew. ​

​

"Hope", repeated the Mandalorian slowly, as if digesting the meaning of the world entirely. Silence stretched, then, as she began to ponder just how far ahead into their conversation Alicio could see. Seconds, minutes, hours? Was the outcome already known to him? Was there even a point to any of this? Irrelevant thoughts. She would speak her mind as truly as ever, and use verity as her guiding light. "Hope is the legacy of your aliit. It has ever been your virtue. Keep true to that principle."​

​

It was all she could offer him; a last measure of admiration, from one so very different from him. Though they were allies, their vision of the world would never quite align, for peace was anathema to her, a concept slain by the noble lance of justice. Now, the time had come to talk, at last, of the fate of a world.​

​

"Multiple matters urgently require to be addressed. First, and perhaps most pressing of all, is our need for material support from the Galactic Alliance. Iziz was badly damaged during the Dark Empire's short-lived, if brutal occupation of the capital - and the planet's resources liberally plundered. We were still in the process of rebuilding the crown jewel when the Neo-Crusaders attacked and laid waste to our city once more, caring little for who they caught in the crossfire, as the dar'manda scum that they are. We currently lack the resources, infrastructure, and manpower to rebuild Iziz, much less the royal palace itself, and so I come asking for architects, credits, and supplies to go about restoring the capital. Not that I will be satisfied with merely rebuilding Iziz. Our world sits directly in the path of the Crusade, and so they will doubtlessly return; even now, they remain firmly entrenched on the moon of Dxun, only a stone's throw away from our holdings. If we are to weather the next assault, then you must provide us with the means to fortify Iziz itself and establish additional ground-to-space batteries in key locations."​

​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"I understand, Chancellor."

Throughout his life, Alicio had attempted to distance himself from his titles. Ever since he was nothing more than a Count, the Crown Liason to a single city... he'd always introduced himself as Alicio. Had insisted that his friends use his name, that they were all on equal footing.

So those words hurt more than he expected them to.

He tried not to show it, as he listened to Jenn's first proposal. Iziz was in desperate need of assistance, and were a member of the Galactic Alliance. This would by far be the easiest of Jenn's proposals to answer. "Onderon needs support, they have it. Not only are they reeling from the recent attacks, but they have been the target of two such attacks in a short period of time. If we reasonably expect these Neo-Crusaders to continue to target Iziz, then tactically, it only makes sense to anticipate defending it." He was talking through his thought process, both to assure Jenn and himself that he was granting this request for it's strategic value... and not that they were close.

"I'll make the call to our Defense Force today, if you need me to." Alicio's hand twitched towards his datapad, wanting to get to work immediately, but restraining himself until after the meeting. Jenn deserved his undivided attention.

"Next."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor - Office of the Chancellor
| Objective | Negotiations, diplomacy, politics... warfare.

Though Alicio's efforts to mask just how deeply his friend's words had cut him were certainly commendable, the Mandalorian's eyes were trained on him with all of the focus of a shriek-hawk, her gaze piercing through flesh and bone and into what lay beneath and beyond. Titles, she had come to realize, were more than merely the sum of one's ego; when earned, they could grant power and prestige... and set those who held them above others. Or, in this case, form a barrier between two friends, just as the Chancellor had wished for it to be so.​

​

Mercifully, the negotiations began smoothly enough, in spite of the tension present in the room. With the clarity and wisdom she had come to admire in the Duke-turned-King, her request for aid was approved, and the logic behind his decision outlined. A shame, perhaps, that the two would inevitably find themselves arguing with one of her requests, but such were the needs of diplomacy and politics; balancing the needs of her people with his own. How would assisting her and hers benefit not only him, but the trillion souls within the Galactic Alliance?​

​

"We need ships." A firm demand, more than a request. "For too long, my House and I have grown dependent on the support of the GADF for air support, casualty evacuation, and similar missions. No more. Not if we are to stand as a fighting force capable of pursuing military operations on our own, may it be the protection of our new homeworld or the pursuit of your enemies. As a non-industrialized power, we ask only for access to the Alliance's shipyards; though my people's budget may be low, we stand with enough means to hammer out a capable fleet, all the same."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio's eyes became distant, thoughtful, as Jenn laid out her follow-up demand. Another subject he didn't anticipate much push-back on. He could sense Jenn was lobbing him her easy questions first, almost as if she were using them to soften the blows of her harsher requests yet to come.

They wouldn't. Not really. But it was nice to be able to grant her requests, regardless.

"The Alliance can't allocate resources to building up Clan Kryze's millitary might. Not without forcing your people to join the Defense Force in an official capacity, and you don't want that." Alicio's eyes traveled to the window again, to the glowing bastion of industry beyond. "But if all you need is a place to work, we can find room for you. You would have to find your own materials, and hire your own shipwrights... but we can donate the space, and the heavy machinery. I'd recommend right here on Fondor, if we can find an opening- you won't find better drydocks in the entire galaxy."

Alicio's eyes stayed on the window. A flash of anticipation set his shoulders.

"Next."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor - Office of the Chancellor
| Objective | Negotiations, diplomacy, politics... warfare.

Another request granted - and a consequent one at that. Though the House's staunch refusal to industrialize in any meaningful capacity severely limited their options, being given access to Fondor's shipyards would be a game-changer, nonetheless; the Galactic Alliance's continued survival against a myriad outside threats was backed by a truly colossal industry, and having those means put at her disposal opened a dizzying array of opportunities. Resisting the urge to immediately send a message to the rest of her House to muster the handful of shipmasters under her command and join her posthaste, she chose instead to keep looking ahead, and towards the more daunting proposition of this meeting.​

​

Watching Alicio growing so tense and avoiding the gaze of her visor made her pause. Had he foreseen this turn of events? Did he know of her request, before she could hope to let it pass her lips? Why waste her time explaining her reasoning, in this case?​

​

His domain had ever been the future. Such was the dubious "gift" of those calling themselves seers. But her own powers were of the past, and it would be through the invocation of said past that she hoped to obfuscate his vision, keep him in the dark. Muddy the waters some.​

​

"When the Sith came to my home, they were not content to slaughter us in the streets, and let our blood drain into the earth of the world we cherished since time immemorial. Those who survived their onslaught were stripped of their armor, sent to the mines, and worked to death extracting beskar. The hallowed metal of my people, left in the hands of the Sith. Even today, only a scant few Mandalorians can boast to be armored in naught but beskar; scant imparts and trace amounts are all we can spare to reinforce durasteel shells."​

​

Though Alicio had played no part in that tragedy, she all but spat her words. Some wounds had never closed, and neither time nor resolve could let them heal. Her nightmares were filled with visions of the past, of all that she had ever known being brought fire and ruin, her adoptive family massacred all around her as she watched on powerlessly. That she had lived where they died haunted her, still. ​

​

"Beskar is not merely steel, but our sacred birthright. Ours, by right. All those who deny this are our foes." Jenn's words seemed to hang in the air, the gaze of her Y visor as well as the Jaig Eyes etched above it more piercing than ever. ​

​

The time had come.​

​

"I demand the immediate return of any and all reserves of beskar currently kept in Alliance hands. Your people have no right to it."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio's eyes narrowed in thought, as he spent a long time stewing on his answer. Too long to have planned a response in advance. Either he hadn't seen this coming... or with all the foresight in the galaxy, he still didn't know what to say.

He withstood the vitriol apparent in his friend, tried not to be too burnt by it's acid, because he knew it wasn't directed at him. He also knew that very well may change soon enough, but he pushed that fear aside, for now. Biting the inside corner of his lip, the Chancellor stole a second longer, before finally finding his avenue.

He decided to be blunt, too.

"No." He faced her, meeting her sharp visor with his own gaze. It was the least he could do, leader to leader. "And I don't believe that answer surprises you."

The Alderaanian crossed his arms over his chest, closing himself off to the Mandalorian ever so slightly. He denied her. By her own word, that now made them foes. Even still, he faced her unflinchingly. Stony defiance was a rare expression for Alicio, but he wore it comfortably enough, his eyes cold and dark.

"Are you open to discussion?"

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor - Office of the Chancellor
| Objective | Negotiations, diplomacy, politics... warfare.

As ever, Alicio was right.​

​

That answer did not surprise her. But it filled her heart with renewed anger, and directed it towards the Chancellor, even as she remained silent, her body betraying little of her thoughts. ​

​

In many ways, the seer had gone out of his way to be courteous to her. To aid her, as an ally and friend both, no matter the circumstances behind their first meeting. For all these reasons and more, she struggled to swallow down the words burning away at her throat, demanding to flow from her lips, no matter how judicious she found them in that moment. Although more enlightened than many of her peers, The Redeemer remained a Mandalorian. ​

​

Those who stood in her path existed only to be destroyed, their legacy crushed underfoot as she planted the seeds of her own atop their corpses. Then, and only then, could there be peace and renewal. Through the complete and utter defeat of those who would threaten the future of her people.​

​

And Alicio, by his words, had become just one such a threat. That she chose not to condemn him for the audacity of denying a Mandalorian what was hers by right was but a testament to the consideration she held for him, even now.​

​

"Speak."​

​

There it was. The lakōnikos.​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Hesitation caught Alicio's next words, too. It wasn't out of fear for his safety, or balking confidence. He'd always been one to think through his words, overthink them really, but his next few were important. Of course he took his time formulating them.

A lot was on the line. They both knew it.

"I apologize for my disrespect, and I am truly sorry for the hardships the Mandalorian people have had to endure. But I need to think of the people of the Alliance. I don't see a galaxy where giving up our entire store of a valuable, strategically-important metal does anything but threaten the safety of our people." His crossed arms hugged his chest a little tighter. Not his people. Our people. "And if I and the Senate were to concede, and word got out that Clan Kryze was hoarding a faction's worth of beskar... what sort of target do you think that paints on Onderon? On your House?"

Alicio's expression had become impossible to read. Serene, but with a subtle pull of tension, taut like a violin string.

"Do... you believe the Alliance should observe every Mandalorian birthright?"

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor - Office of the Chancellor
| Objective | Making history

"My mother once said that everything leaving a man's mouth before the word but holds no meaning." ​

​

Chilling words, from one who was usually so... diplomatic. Open to negotiations, preferring to use reason and words first, before immediately defaulting to fire and steel. It would be no hyperbole to call Jenn Kryze the most agreeable Mandalorian leader one could find in this age, and by a fair margin too; even the Mandalorian Protectors had not proven so amenable to the proposition of courtesy. The false Manda'lor calling himself a Mererel had all but threatened the Senate before leaving in a huff, after all, where Jenn held her tongue and remained concise, if polite during her own address to the same entity on Fondor.​

​

With her siren's song woven into her every word, the reality of the situation became all the more difficult to handle. The more she spoke, the more intricate the melody, the passion of her words weaving an irresistible song... knowing of the hypnotic quality of her voice could only do so much to ward one's mind. Alicio Organa was a greater man than most, in that regard; a driven soul, focused amidst the maelstrom - but how long could he hold against the terrible beauty of this Ersansyr? A siren who called him friend, held him as her guiding example of what it meant to be a politician with a spine, a diplomat with a heart, a seer who acknowledged the past...​

​

"I believe the Galactic Alliance has found in House Kryze a steadfast ally, willing to stand and bleed with them - for them - on many occasions. We never asked for recompense for the blood we shed, the vode we took to the pyre after each battle fought for you. The ideals of the Crusade, we rejected, no matter that their existence within our culture predates your government by thousands of years. And now that we ask but to gird ourselves with the hallowed metal bestowed upon us by the very gods themselves... you would deny us our birthright? You would dare to ask me that question, Organa, when I have ever strived to better my people through virtuous deeds and courageous stands? Time and time again, my detractors have told me the same story. Jenn Kryze, enthralled by the Jedi. Jenn Kryze, a dog to the Alliance. Was there truth to their words? Am I being led on by people who hold no respect for the culture I represent, our rich history?"​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"My mother once said that everything leaving a man's mouth before the word but holds no meaning."

His lip drew thin. Jenn had plucked a nerve. "They weren't empty platitudes."

For the first time since their initial conversations, when he was her prisoner, Alicio found himself getting increasingly frustrated with the Mandalorian. He'd tried very hard to distance himself from this conversation, so it could remain an impartial dealing between two powers, but he could feel the tone becoming personal. All this talk of you and us, as if they were enemies already. His last name, wielded like a weapon. It didn't help that Jenn's siren song was... particularly strong today. He felt himself getting worn thin.

"Is... that how you truly feel?" Weakness had started to form in his unflappable expression, though what hid beneath was not entirely clear. "That you have recieved nothing from your partnership with the Alliance?" He had been careful with his wording.

He hoped Jenn would be, too.

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor - Office of the Chancellor
| Objective | Making history

"Neither were they words of substance. My kin and I have not survived this long on condolences and well wishes. We survived because we refused to lay down and die, no matter how much others prayed that we would."​

​

Never before had Jenn been so cold, and cutting. Not even during the time she had been Alicio's enemy, holding him captive within the home of Clan Kryze on Kestri's moon. But how could she not be so, when faced with the sobering realization that her misguided kin had been right all along? No matter what, those new allies she had made remained aruetiise. They never truly cared to understand the ways of her people, nor respect the rich tapestry of stories that made up their culture. ​

​

Jenn was deaf to all but the echo of words once spoken. So many accusations looping in on themselves, spiteful words uttered by those she condemned as astray, lost, bereft of virtue. Time and time again, she had moved past it all, ignoring how much it hurt, to be deemed a traitor by her own people. Someone ready to do the dirty work of outsiders for nothing more than teh goodness of the act, for charity, all of it against her own people.​

​

For the first time in... gods only knew how long, she thought of Nelliel Kryze . Where was her sister now? How disgusted must she be, to see the Alor of House Kryze compromising again and again? Did she remain with the Enclave, had she offered her skills to the Neo-Crusaders? ​

​

Did she yet draw breath? Would they see each other again, when the time came for her to die and join her foremothers in the Manda?​

​

Then, the Chancellor spoke once more, with a weakness she was loathe to stamp out. The Duchess had always found her friend to have sad and gentle eyes... expressive, betraying just how deeply he cared. How earnest he truly was. Silence stretched over the pair, and though she sought kinder words, she found none. Her voice remained steely. Exacting. Pitiless.​

​

"What has the Alliance ever given me but blood, tears, and dead vode."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

"Then I'll refrain from any frivolous well-wishing in the future. Thank you for your clarification." There wasn't a lot of thanks in Alicio's tone. It was dry. Strained.

Jenn's sudden frost didn't seem to have the effect she might've wanted, if she was even doing it for a reason. The Chancellor's ironclad patience, tested by days of little sleep, new responsibilities, and a friend acting like they were the most despicable of foes, was gradually chipping. And that patience was the only thing keeping this meeting together.

"What has the Alliance ever given me but blood, tears, and dead vode."

Alicio's eye twitched. "Relief after the attack on Onderon. The personal rebuilding efforts of the leader of the Alliance. Permission to use our best shipyards. The aid of the Jedi and the GADF, who you can't forget because you fought beside them."

"But because I deny your ultimatum for a payment you were never promised, for battles that you volunteered for, you're willing to discard the work of the people who lost their lives alongside yours, and the deals we just made." He was close to the breaking point, now. He could feel it, even if he tried to keep his face as straight as possible. The temperature in the room seemed to drop a degree or two.

"I'm... disappointed you would disregard so much to make us the villain."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor - Office of the Chancellor
| Objective | Making history

All things in life happened for a reason, said the few seers she had the dubious honor of meeting over the years. Now, more than ever before, she found such a mindset well and truly contemptible. Did the man before her know their conversation would go this way? Had he braced himself before she even entered the room, a few moments prior? What use was there in talking to someone with such expectations, a way to look ahead and divine what arguments she would use ahead of time?​

​

"Of all the points you have made, the only argument to hold any weight and give me pause was the possibility of such a transfer of resources making my House and I a target, for it speaks of care for the fate we may yet face. When my vode and I sallied out to aid you, we did so without expecting nor demanding recompense for our work... and we have paid the price for it. Again, and again, and again. We are all that remains of the honorable ones, those who would rather stand against darkness than compromise with it, and find ourselves tainted for that weakness. But hear me, Chancellor, when I tell you this; I shall not allow my people to be martyred. We are the last of our kind. Throwing away our lives into such charity work will see us burn like a star, and not a candle. I see that now..."​

​

Her voice trailed off, then, and she finally turned away, her helm facing towards a window, rather than the visage of the man standing before her, holding so much power in his hands. Jenn was tired of being pulled into opposing directions. Her desire to help the aruetiise... and her duty to her own people, to the future they were owed. Too much was at her stake for her to fail. Too many families under her banner, too many foundlings, too great a legacy. The Jedi would ever turn up their nose at her people and their ways, and so too did the Alliance feel like fairweather allies at times.​

​

Or perhaps she was wrong, yet again. Perhaps the repeated insults and losses had warped her perception, led her down a dark path, made her not wiser in her perception of the world, but simply more guarded, fearfully guarding her own with blind aggression. ​

​

"The Queen is dead, the people of Onderon left in fear and shock. Dxun is still in Crusader hands, biding their time to strike. And now, we, too, fear for our home. We were only ever your allies, steadfast and true in all things, but now? Now, your dominion extends to the world we chose as our home, whose people we have come to regard our charges, and we are afraid. Afraid of what this new allegiance means. Of the Alliance thinking it can command us. We've lost a key part of our leverage, and any help you do give us is merely just a way for you to shore up your soft underbelly, and ensure that Mandalorian blood is shed in the defense of that weak spot, rather than your own. I am no fool. I know the way some in the Senate and the Jedi Council think. Dismissing my kind as warmongers who deserve only to be wiped out... contemptible killers with delusions. And they would all gladly sacrifice my House to stop the Crusaders."​

​

Silence followed. A pause. Though Jenn glanced towards the door, she stopped. Walking out now felt the logical course of action; they had reached an impasse, and a breakdown of diplomatic relations. She had tried, earnestly sought to better herself as a diplomat, but she evidently had much yet to learn, and so she would walk back home empty handed. Just as she seemed ready to head out, however, she stopped, and sucked in a lungful of air through her gills.​

​

"I'm afraid. Of what will happen to my people, if I stay the course."​

​

Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Alicio regathered himself. It seemed like Jenn had finally relented, toning back her accusatory tone, in favor of a more introspective one. Her voice was still... vexingly convincing, but with a lull in the heat of their conversation, he found it more bearable.

That didn't mean he enjoyed what she said. Her realizations were sobering. He disagreed with her, on a few too many things. Her sorrow was palpable. But Alicio didn't comment on any of it. He simply observed her, composure having returned to his face.

"My wife is one of those Jedi, I imagine." Alicio's face became softer. "And surely there are senators jaded from the past actions of your people."

"Perhaps the Alliance is simply using you. Clan Kryze was a warrior culture on Onderon, which is a valuable planet. Perhaps we've built you up as nothing more than a bulwark. Perhaps we send forces to aid you, not out of any concern for your well-being, but for your strategic importance."

"Or perhaps we send you support and military aid because we are allies, and that's what allies do." Personally, Alicio saw it as some mix of the two. From what he could tell, the Alliance hadn't manipulated her people into participating in battle, nor had they ever fallen short on a promise to the clan. But the fact remained that they suffered. Which meant something had to change.

Alicio tracked the Mandalorian to the door, frowning at her final question. Alicio considered it a moment.

"Jenn... if I may offer you some advice... not as Chancellor Organa, but as... me?"

"Fill your cup before you pour."

- Jenn Kryze -

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
​

| Location | Fondor - Office of the Chancellor
| Objective | Making history

"I cannot blame honorable Master Serys for the enmity she holds- not in good conscience. Nor can I blame the similar sentiment expressed by the Sentinel of Harmony, though she may hold my heart, and I hers; for the Cathar have suffered much by Mandalorian hands." Jenn's response was immediate, heartfelt, and yet no less frustrated. Would she be capable of putting the greater good first, had it been her beloved in Alicio's situation? Perhaps not... but, well-earned though it might be, the Chief Healer's wariness was not merely putting her diplomatic situation at risk, but the fate of her entire Clan, and those Clans who had sworn fealty to it - and that, she could not abide. Of the Senators, she said nothing. The only pair to have suffered by her hand were Raphael Calgar (from whom she had received no news) and Natasi Fortan , whose respect she seemed to have won through her genuine acts of repentance. The rest could burn, for all she cared. She owed them nothing; they had seen fit to grant her nothing. ​

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Alicio's words were heeded in silence, her visor turning to face him once more. Pitiless and inhuman, offering no insight into the person beneath it, sacrificing all personification to better embody that which she needed to become. An avenging angel, emissary of an entire people of warriors, a woman who sought to transcend scales and flesh and bone to become a legend, to be remembered for a thousand years in song, in tall tales, in hushed whispers. The Chancellor spoke of nuance, of their being allies, still. No mention made of the word constituents, or subjects. Was he merely being the crafty politician she knew him to be, or the earnest man he'd proven himself as during his captivity? ​

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This, she realized, was his point entirely. Did it really matter? ​

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"My duty is for life, as my station demands." Jenn paused, then, and seemed to stand just a little straighter, her voice marrying the irresistible beauty of an Ersansyr's song with the might carried by a trure Alor of the Mando'ade. "An oath sworn upon the blood of my ancestors; upon the blood of my children! That I would serve as a shield to the vulnerable, and a sword to the forceless, even to my dying breath. You recommend that I fill my cup before I pour: judicious advice, if I could take it. There is always the next chapter of my struggle, the next battle, fought on the field or in the halls of power. I will have my rest once I am dead, and my ashes scattered over the sea. Not a day sooner. To rest is to fail my people."​

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Words that painted a picture, if nothing else. What would her host see, if she were to take off her helm? Bags under her eyes, new scars from her latest battle? Brimming, uncontainable power, waiting to spill out and utterly annihilate him in every possible way there existed to be destroyed?​

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"I cannot renounce my people's claim on the sacred steel, granted to us by the very gods themselves. But, in light of the Galactic Alliance's efforts in assisting our homeworld and its people, and your acquiescing to our other requests... no action shall be taken by my House to reclaim it. Not until we've done our part, and secured the continued survival of your people by winning those three wars you have found yourself embroiled in. Such is our duty as your allies, and we will see it done, manpower and supplies permitting."​

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Jenn extended her hand, then. Not quite a gesture Mandalorians favoured, but a sign of goodwill, or something resembling it.​

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"Is that acceptable, Chancellor?"​

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Alicio Organa ​

 

[Alicio Organa]

Jenn didn't blame the Jedi for their misgivings. Alicio pondered that a moment, the veil of thought passing over his eyes. He was about to voice his musings... then thought better of it, biting his tongue, and waiting for Jenn to fill the silence.

"An oath sworn upon the blood of my ancestors; upon the blood of my children! That I would serve as a shield to the vulnerable, and a sword to the forceless, even to my dying breath. You recommend that I fill my cup before I pour: judicious advice, if I could take it. There is always the next chapter of my struggle, the next battle, fought on the field or in the halls of power. I will have my rest once I am dead, and my ashes scattered over the sea. Not a day sooner. To rest is to fail my people."

Again, Alicio was about to respond quickly, then took a moment more to think about it. "Mm. That's a stance we both share. And it will be the doom of both of us, I think." He grinned a little. "Our battles are long ones. If we continually advance without resupply, I fear we may find our final rest sooner than we'd prefer."

Would that stop Alicio from working his hands to the bone? No, probably not.

Jenn's final words, a deal, not a command, finally broke Alicio's tense shoulders. His eyes were just as thoughtful, but relief softened his hard edges. "When the time comes that we are not under immediate danger, we negotiate." That was all he could offer now. But it was better than the 'no' Jenn had just recieved. She was learning.

Alicio stared past Jenn. His hands found each other behind his back. "So, what do you think? Did it survive?"

- Jenn Kryze -