Junction The Divide | TSC & TSO & ME Junction of Carratos, Ank Kit'aar, Sarka | IC

[Cassilde Vortayn]

Objective 1: The War Council
Direct Tags: Aria Talorien
Indirect Tags: Never.

---

A Mercy speech. Delightful. There was a perfectly presentable Sith Empress standing alongside the brick wall of flesh, and yet it was the latter who addressed them all. Cassilde understood, of course, that the host had first claim to the soapbox. It was just the proper decorum. She understood. That didn't mean she enjoyed it. She had yet to find an occasion in which Mercy opened her mouth where she felt anything other than hideous, visceral loathing.

Not that it mattered how she felt. The only thing that mattered was how her face felt about it. The smile was set somewhere between amused and absorbed as it watched the dense peacock verbally strut.

"Even the Mandalorian Empire has had to root out the Lighbringers in Hapes..."

Her tongue pressed against the back of her teeth for a brief moment before the sight of a champagne flute in Mercy's swollen hams, which masqueraded as hands, brought back the regularly scheduled programming.

After the speech, capped off by profanity (because, of course, it was), Cassilde took to better surveying the room: a few distressingly familiar faces from Throneworld, a collection of fully armoured men who probably hadn't changed their undergarments in several days, some devastatingly beautiful women, and one man who gave the distinct impression of being on a very specific, very undesirable list. She didn't particularly want to engage with any of them.

And she didn't have to, because Mercy's 'observer' found her first.

The woman was... unconventional, bordering on eccentric. In her appearance, in her manner of speaking, and in her choice of words. Cassilde still had her firmly placed near the top of the list of people she'd actually speak to, even if she had barrelled in with the cupbearer dig. Neo-feudal accoutrement that scratches an ego itch indeed.

"I had a cupbearer," Cassilde returned politely, warmly, as if she had not taken it as a slight at all. She had. "It's an old office. Somebody to stand between the cup and the mouth."

In truth, it was archaic, effective only if every poisoned chalice either tasted as such or did the job in seconds. She wasn't going to bring that part up.

Her head tilted, looking to Aria as if she'd passed wind, an incredulous, tight-lipped smile. Just a nice, casual conversation to have in the company of a coalition of Sith and Mandalorians. Oh, how's the weather? Have you travelled anywhere recently? Are you going to kill the Empress? Just the usual small talk topics.

"I pour her drinks, Aria. If I were going to kill her, I'd have the easiest job in the galaxy, and I'd have done it already," she replied, choosing to meet the (presumed) joke with her own. Not a denial. Just reduced to an absurdity.

"And yourself. Observer. Preparing for a part?" Cassilde asked, openly interested by the absolute vagueness with which Mercy had introduced the woman. "I hadn't realised you were so thorough."

 

[Siv Kryze]

.​

​

Siv remained quiet for a moment after the exchange, considering the points that had been raised. There was truth to both sides of it. Victory had its place, but for Mandalorians, what followed had always been just as important. A battlefield could be won in a day. Holding what had been won was another matter entirely.

His helmet shifted slightly as Aether Verd spoke with the other Sith leadership across the chamber. Siv watched the exchange briefly before returning his attention to those still engaged in the discussion.

"That is probably where the distinction lies. Strength gives you the ability to take something. It does not necessarily tell you what to do with it afterward."

He allowed the thought to settle before continuing.

"And I think that is where cooperation becomes more complicated. We have Mandalorians here who are willing to work with the Sith, and others who remain considerably more guarded. The Iron Covenant comes to mind."

There was no accusation in the mention of them. If anything, Siv seemed interested in the difference itself.

"They have their reasons for keeping the Sith at arm's length. Given our history, I cannot say I find that particularly surprising."

A short pause followed, Siv considering the matter before continuing.

"Which is what interests me. If the goal is simply to win the battles before us, then perhaps none of that matters. But if this cooperation is meant to amount to something beyond the next campaign, then I imagine it does."

His helmet tilted slightly.

"Does a Mandalorian need to trust the Sith for that cooperation to have value? Or is there still a place for those who are willing to stand beside you while keeping their own distance?"

Siv let the question linger for a moment.

"Because the Iron Covenant's position makes for an interesting measure of that. They are not opposed to standing on their own feet, nor are they particularly inclined to place their interests in Sith hands. Yet that does not necessarily mean they cannot find common ground with you."

His tone remained thoughtful rather than challenging.

"So I suppose what I'm trying to understand is whether you see that independence as a hindrance to an alliance... or simply as part of the nature of dealing with Mandalorians."

Siv fell quiet again, giving the others room to answer rather than attempting to speak for Mandalore himself.

Tag: Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Helix Varin Mortifer Veyla Krinn​

 

[Varin Mortifer]

VARIN MORTIFER

Equipment: Durum Mantle | Black Blade of Chandrila | Eye of The Dragon | Heavy Sith Mace | Cross Guard Broadsaber | Wyrmfang​

Varin gave Astra a slow nod after she spoke, he listened to each individual as they too said their piece but one constant remained with each Mandalorian as they spoke, what were to happen after the dust settled? After the battle had been won.

He then looked over to Astra.

“Some Sith perhaps would see it that way. Personally, I would not call a meeting of alliance with someone I would not have found common ground with. Especially for longer terms.”

No, to Varin, there would have to be some form of even ground to stand on with allies. Perhaps that opinion would make him a black sheep. He wouldn’t care. Allieship is stronger in bonds when there is something the parties can see eye to eye with.

Varin looked at the Mandalorian warriors before him, another slow sip of his drink.

“I can understand the hesitance of what has been said thus far. In my experience, bonds form over conflict. Seeing how far your allies will go with you through the pits of war. I am sure you all have felt that. Brothers and Sisters in arms. Blood spilt together. War and conquest are two very different things. War takes and claims, conquest holds.”

He paused for a short moment.

“But as you made it clear, direct conflict does not maintain allies. Your fear of being stuck under the boot of the Sith or temporary allegiances is valid. I for one believe independence is important. It separates the capable from the weak.”

His gaze pierced through each visor.

“Today we do not plan to make deals with beings who are weak. We seek those who have the means to take care of themselves and the Mandalorian Empire has proven that capability for quite some time.”

Varin’s attention briefly turned towards Aether during his speech, electing to let it finish before he spoke again.

His gaze then shifted to Helix and back to Astra.

“I am extremely sure that through our dealings we can easily find something to keep all interested parties happy. It all depends on what you want out of this deal, and what they want as well.”

His attention now turned back to the Mandalorians.

“So tell me. What is it that you would want out of this? What is something you want the Mandalorian Empire to obtain that was once before thought impossible?”

Siv Kryze | Veyla Krinn | Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr | Astra Sadow | Helix​

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Tags: Aether Verd | Mia Monroe | Srina Talon | Mercy | Quinn Varanin | Arris Windrun | Gerwald Lechner | Lirka Ka | Taeli Raaf

Mia’s ire washed over her like a wave crashing upon stone. The Warmaster had her emotions on full display, irritated and uncomfortable. Adelle pressed her lips together, fighting the urge to bite back like she always had with her father Heren. If she was going to be yelled at, better to get her credits’ worth out of it. But that was far from helpful or productive here. Aether, while he hadn’t exactly responded well to a terrible joke, did get a message across beneath his words.

Honestly, if she hadn’t been doing moving meditation with katas before their arrival, she’d have been just on edge. The whispers and phantom movement were mildly familiar though; she’d made the mistake of peeling back enough of the curtain on the Ironsides to have dealt with the Nether osik before.

In the quiet before the Empress of the Core spoke, Adelle opened a private channel to Monroe.

“How are your injuries healing, Warmaster?” Calm, sincere. And maybe scratching a little of the itch to fight back.

As far as speeches went, the gold titan that Monroe had once tried picking a fight with kept it mercifully short. Relevant points addressed, the goal identified, and a rally call for a dismissal. All that truthfully needed to be said, although judging by the tension in some of her fellow Mandalorians, the point about Mandalore’s genocide at the hands of the Sith was still a sore, sticking point. Adelle couldn’t blame them nor was she exactly happy to even consider bridging that gap.

But so far, Aether was seeking the Mandalorians’ benefit, even when she disagreed with his methods. She trusted he was entering this with eyes wide open. She hoped.

Aether gave instructions to the rest of the Mandalorian delegation, before gesturing to her and Monroe both and entering the private room the Sith Empresses and leadership withdrew to. An expectant weight settled around her, originating from the Mand’alor.

Now he wanted to stand on formality.

Why did she get the sinking feeling this was an exercise in futility?

"Apologies for the wait. Duties of the host... but welcome, to all of you. Some I know, some I hope to get to know soon enough."

“Our thanks for your hospitality,” Adelle said neutrally. She inclined her head respectfully towards both Empresses. For a half-second, she debated the merits of changing diplomatic protocol for the Mandalorian leadership and decided not to. “It’s my honor to introduce His Excellency Mand’alor the Iron Aether Verd of the Mandalorian Empire, and the honorable Warmaster Mia Monroe, General of the Great Heathen Army. I am Ambassador Adelle Bastiel, Iron Lord. You’ve set a lofty goal, Empress of the Core. We are interested in seeing what might be proposed.”

She took her seat at Aether’s left, leaving the place of honor and higher rank to his right to Monroe. Movement in her periphery caught her attention, mostly because it didn’t go away like most of the phantoms conjured by the Nether magic. A Sith Acolyte stood slightly off to the side, mild annoyance on their face and a tray with a handful of packages on it in their hands.

“From her Imperial Majesty, Empress Talon,” they announced quietly.

Adelle couldn’t help the slight tilt of her head. What? But the Sith Acolyte stood there, waiting still. She gestured to the table, indicating they could leave the tray on it, but her mind was preoccupied with what in the Nine Hells Srina Talon could be giving her. As much as she tried to keep her attention on the gathering at hand, curiosity got the better of her. She picked up one of the packages off the tray and turned it over, looking at the label.

Stormfruit candy.

Candy and sweets had been a rarity in her life. Last time she had anything sweet, it was again a gift from the Empress. Something with licorice, if she recalled correctly. Adelle laid it flat on the table and folded her hands over it, resisting the urge to take off her helmet to try it. She did give Aether a brief glance and opened a private channel.

“Is this… Does she do this often?”

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Location: On board the Tyranny, Conference Room

Interacting with:
SO: Srina Talon Quinn Varanin Gerwald Lechner Lirka Ka
SC: Mercy Arris Windrun
ME: Aether Verd Mia Monroe Adelle Bastiel
Others: Ivalyn Yvarro
​

Indeed, as Quinn spoke with Arris and Lily Rhodes , a head had turned from across the room to observe the interaction. She had sensed the hostility towards her apprentice, towards a young woman she regarded as another daughter, and thus she was one of but many within the room that was protective of the Echani Queen. She was not trying to eavesdrop on conversations with Theran techniques, out of politeness to their hosts, but she didn't need it to see that Quinn must have said something to defuse the confrontation. She wondered what had prompted such a response from the woman with Arris, and marked her for observation in the future.

Time for the actual main event, for her at least, came and she joined the others in the conference room where the meeting between the various government representatives would create agreements or understandings. Out of respect for the Empresses, she would wait to take her seat until they had taken theirs, situating herself between Quinn and Srina. An amused eyebrow would raise as Quinn flirted with the woman beside her, but she would say nothing.

She would observe the others as they took their seats, but it wasn't the time to speak yet. The Empresses and the Mand'alor would be the ones to start the discussions, considering their stations, but she had to wonder about the Mandalorians most of all. She wondered what Aether would think if he knew that a certain Mandalorian decorated her office as a statue, doomed to an eternity of spiritual torment for everything he done.

 

[Helix]

Tags: Veyla Krinn / Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr / Astra Sadow / Siv Kryze / Varin Mortifer

​

Helix's earlier agreement about building had not escaped her either. Veyla regarded the mechanical warlord for another moment before speaking again. "And for someone who says the Sith need killers more than builders, you seem unusually convinced building is worth the trouble." It wasn't an accusation. If anything, genuine curiosity had entered her voice. "I think I like that answer better than the one about leaving enough bodies behind that nobody forgets you."

"My interests and my duties do not coincide as often as I'd like, it's true." Responded Helix mildly. "Such is the price of maintaining a powerful and orderly civilization, a price I'm certain you understand all too well. You've quite a powerful and orderly civilization of your own."

"Of course, sometimes you need to do one to do the other. Weapons don't design themselves, and they most certainly don't build themselves. My little substance that got unleashed on Thyferra was nearly as enjoyable to create as to deploy, and in a way, even the deployment built something."

"Still, I didn't get appointed War Marshal of the Sith's Third Legion by creating or building. I got it by killing the empire's enemies in a more effective manner than my nearest competitors. That is my station and my job. Unpalatable as my views on the value of stacking bodies might seem, my career is built upon the manifest truth of such views."

"Creating is thus something I must do on my own time, and my personal and professional lives have very little to do with one another."

"I believe at the core of things you are correct. At the end of the day, we all will do what we perceive to be in our best interest. But there is more to that kernel of truth. If we believe we want something, believe we need something we will reach out and grab it." To set action to his words he reached out his hand as if to grab something and closed his hand. "But you can not grab something without making a fist." And indeed, he was with his fist outstretched in a faintly aggressive posture. "Yet what defines what we see as our best interest? Is it strictly for ourselves?" He shook his fist for emphasis. "Or does our self-interest also include the ones we love?" He relaxed his fist so it was less aggressive. "Does it include our family or our Clan?" He released the fist and partially opened his hand. "Or does our self-interest also include our people and our race?" He opened his hand fully converting an aggressive fist into an outstretched hand. He held it there for a moment before letting it drop. "That is the true measure of self-interest. At the moment there is open space between the boarders of The Sith Covenant and The Mandalorian Empire. There is The High Republic between The Order but there is Order involvement in the Thandon Star Cluster. What happens when the common enemy is no more? There needs to be more than simply joining our fists together. For a truly lasting accord we need to join our hands together. Are the Sith willing to do that? Can the Sith do that?"

"Certainly, if that's your definition. As you might have guessed by looking at me, though, I don't have a people or a race, not as you do. Only a job and my own hide to look after."

"Selfishness can keep the peace too. For example, it's in my best interests to have as few enemies as possible. Enemies mean danger, danger means a possibility of my death. I'd need a very good reason to go to war in the first place, as with all due respect to you and yours, I don't share some of your people's views on the virtues of martial honor for their own sake. Courage is all well and good, but there is merit in knowing when to go home and decline a conflict."

"If your own self-interest expands to your kith and kin, then splendid. I have no interest in fighting them, and even less in fighting you, unless you give me a very good reason. I've yet to see that reason emerge, and I reserve the right to determine when and where I fight, unlike some of my peers."

Deciding to take the risk again, the creature surreptitiously extended a boneless arm, stealing a different drink from across the table. Apparently finding this one more to his liking, he kept it.

"That's not true," Astra interjected after Varin Mortifer Varin Mortifer and Helix Helix spoke. She drifted closer to the group and gave them a collective bow at the waist. "Astra Sadow, Chairwoman of Sanguine Enterprises." One mustn't forget proper introductions. Now, back to her original statement, "It's not entirely true that the Sith 'would not' have called such a meeting if there was not some manner of kinship or desire for an equal relationship. I expect our Mandalorian guests had that thought somewhere in the back of their minds just now. After all, the 'Sith' as galactic community knows them comes full of baggage and presumptions. Not all of them unwarranted. Fortunately," Astra looked to [IMG alt="Siv Dragr"]https://www.starwarsrp.net/data/avatars/s/18/18453.jpg?1772832437[/IMG] Siv Dragr and Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr , "you won't need to take their word for it. You will find them as diverse as any other people with different ambitions and factions depending on whom you speak, but you will also find plenty with a mind to work with you rather than over you. If there is something to be built, it will come between people on both sides with that vision coming together to make it a reality."

A nod accompanied Helix's last statement. "The Mandalorians certainly wouldn't need to worry the Sith would ask them to beat their blades into plowshares. They would undoubtedly recognize the strength of your determination and skill with countless weapons. Your reputation precedes you throughout the galaxy."

"But of course. The asterisk on all this is that I don't write state policy, I simply enforce it. It isn't up to me whether this peace endures or not. I'm not interested in historical grudges or differences of opinion. Only the here and now. Practical concerns."

"Practical concerns tell me that willingly opening up a new front when we already have two is foolish, if it can be avoided. Their people came in good faith when asked to this table, which is more than most would do. That alone suggests an accord may be reached. Were it up to me, we'd reach it and go home, and focus attention on those not so willing to talk terms. There's certainly no shortage of those, and never will be."

This was Helix's way, and one of his more unpopular takes in these circles. An enemy was an obstacle, and making peace with that obstacle was as valid a way to remove it as destroying it would be. A friend gained was a potential enemy knocked off the board.

He was a remorseless fiend and as black a heart as any to be found in Sith space, but one with an outside origin, devoid of cultural, historical, or philosophical preconceptions to cloud his reasoning. Plenty of other things clouded it, of course, but ancient grievances were not among them.

Addressing the Mandalorians at the table as a whole now, he added. "You might find that not all of my countrymen are as willing to adopt this view, however. They lack my gentler approach. As Ms. Sadow points out, we are not a monolith, as much as some would prefer that this were the case. Something to consider as the negotiations continue. For my part, I am only too pleased to enjoy a mutually-beneficial accord, in whatever form that takes."

"Does a Mandalorian need to trust the Sith for that cooperation to have value? Or is there still a place for those who are willing to stand beside you while keeping their own distance?"

"So I suppose what I'm trying to understand is whether you see that independence as a hindrance to an alliance... or simply as part of the nature of dealing with Mandalorians."

Of all the concerns brought forth so far, this was the only one to give Helix genuine pause, if only for a moment. This fellow had hit upon the heart of it, for better or worse. The cybernetic warlord had just gotten off a particularly-nightmarish battlefield involving the Iron Covenant, and the man's words at least went some way towards explaining the differences between the those Mandalorians and these ones. The pre-battle briefing had been predictably unhelpful on that front.

"If the Sith can tolerate internal fractiousness, and we do, what's a little external fractiousness? Our nations don't have to agree on everything to enjoy the benefits of an alliance, or at least a ceasefire. Hell, we don't even need to like each other."

"All we have to do is see the practical upsides, and like I said, I'm a practical being. What you do in your yard isn't my concern, as long as that sufferance goes both ways."

Helix sipped on his drink for several long moments, before giving it an appraising look. "Better." He decided finally.

“I am extremely sure that through our dealings we can easily find something to keep all interested parties happy. It all depends on what you want out of this deal, and what they want as well.”

"All around, I share young Mortifer's optimism, which should tell you all something. I'm seldom optimistic about anything. Time has a way of beating that out of you."

"Cooler heads will prevail, surely." Helix wasn't always a cooler head by any means, but his lack of interest in a hypothetical conflict was very genuine. If nothing else, he'd already had his fill of fighting Mandalorians on Abregado-Rae, and that had been as little better than a mercenary. Nothing was to be gained by doing so, and plenty might be lost.

 

[Sybil ragnos]

Tag: open

Sybil had arrived planetside initially to join the war council with the kainites. But the sith tomb and portal to the netherworld led the sith pureblood away as she stood there. She was used to sith tombs she witnessed the ancient ones being built for some of the more ancient sith mainly her father as she expected traps and puzzles.

As she examined the ruins with great interest and enthusiasm as she walked through the nether sith tomb studying it. Thoroughly as she looked for traps the ancient sith pureblood sorceress missed her era of sith and how they did things.

 

[Veyla Krinn]

Objective: War Council
Tagging: Helix Varin Mortifer Siv Kryze Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr

Veyla listened as Dral abandoned any remaining pretense of merely observing and put his own question to Helix. Beneath the sealed helmet, a smile briefly tugged at her lips when his hand moved from fist to open palm. There was considerably more philosophy in the gesture than she had expected when she invited him over, but the question beneath it was the one that mattered. Fighting beside someone when both parties had an enemy directly ahead of them was easy enough. Deciding what remained when that enemy disappeared was considerably harder. His quiet admission over their private channel that the Sith had already proven more reasonable than expected earned a soft breath of amusement through Veyla's vocoder. "I'm beginning to wonder." The answer went only to Siv and Dral. "Let's not tell them yet. They might start trying harder."

Helix's response made that humor fade into genuine consideration. He did not seem troubled by the possibility that Mandalorians might remain independent, suspicious, or even openly disagreeable while cooperating with the Sith. If anything, he treated it as an expected inconvenience rather than a threat. Veyla found herself respecting that simplicity more than promises of friendship would have impressed her. Her visor shifted toward Siv when her Alor pressed precisely that point, using the Iron Covenant as the measure. Veyla remained quiet while he spoke. This was his question to ask and his place to ask it, and she was far more interested in hearing the answer than adding another Mandalorian voice simply for the sake of being heard.

When Helix gave it, Veyla's helmet angled slightly toward him. "That might be the most reassuring thing I've heard tonight." Her voice carried through the helmet in its low metallic modulation, warmth muted but the faint humor beneath it still recognizable. "Not the part where we don't have to like each other. I'm sure we'll manage that if necessary." Her visor remained on the mechanical warlord. "The part where disagreement doesn't automatically become disloyalty. Mandalorians aren't particularly good at agreeing with each other all the time. Expecting us to suddenly start because we're dealing with someone outside Mandalore would probably end badly for everyone involved." She glanced toward Dral. His open hand had illustrated the point well enough. Cooperation did not require either side to surrender what made it distinct.

Varin seemed to arrive at much the same conclusion from another direction. His description of independence as separating the capable from the weak was harsher than Veyla would have made it, but the important part was that he did not appear to regard Mandalorian self-sufficiency as something the Sith needed to dismantle before an alliance could function. She inclined her helmet once in acknowledgment. "Then I think you've answered part of Siv's question." She left the remainder where it belonged, between her Alor and the Sith answering him, rather than attempting to decide whether the answer was sufficient herself.

Varin's next question was considerably more difficult. What did they want the Mandalorian Empire to obtain that had once seemed impossible? Veyla's first instinct was not to answer. That was a question large enough for Aether, for Siv, for the Alors and others responsible for deciding where Mandalore went from here. She wasn't going to turn a conversation she had walked into out of curiosity into an impromptu declaration of Mandalorian policy. Yet Varin had asked all of them, and Siv had brought her here because he wanted her to listen and learn rather than stand silently behind him.

"I can't tell you what Mandalore would ask for." The distinction came first, clear and deliberate. Her visor briefly settled upon Siv before returning to Varin. "That's a question for people carrying more responsibility than I am. But if you're asking me what I'd like to see..." Veyla paused, considering it. Her answer was surprisingly simple. "A generation that gets to inherit more than another war. Not peace forever. I'm not naive enough to think anyone in this room can promise that, and Mandalorians wouldn't suddenly stop being Mandalorians if they could." The slightest amusement colored the modulated voice before it settled again. "But worlds rebuilt faster than they're destroyed. Clans strong enough that their children inherit homes instead of stories about the homes their parents lost. Trade that keeps moving. Forges that stay lit. Enough stability that when we choose to fight, it's because there's something worth protecting rather than because we're still trying to recover what was taken the last time." Perhaps none of that sounded impossible when separated into individual pieces. Taken together, after everything Mandalore had endured, Veyla wasn't entirely certain it had ever been given enough time to become ordinary.

Movement elsewhere in the gathering briefly drew her visor toward Mand'alor. Aether's voice carried across the Mandalorian channel soon afterward, charging them to take the measure of the people before them before he disappeared into the private negotiations. The order was serious enough. The one that followed was considerably less so.

Not a single drop of Sith liquor was supposed to remain.

Veyla stared toward the doorway through which Aether had disappeared for perhaps half a second before slowly looking back toward Siv and Dral. The blank face of her helmet concealed her expression completely, but the dry note entering her vocoder did not. "Well." She glanced toward the drink Helix had already appropriated and apparently judged acceptable on his second attempt. "Mand'alor has given us another objective."

Her visor settled upon Helix's glass. "You've already made more progress on it than we have." There was a brief pause before she looked between Siv and Dral over their private channel. "I'm fairly certain ignoring a direct order from Mand'alor would make a terrible impression at a diplomatic gathering." This time the amusement in her voice was impossible for even the helmet to erase. For all the weight of history hanging over the Tyranny, perhaps Aether had understood something useful in giving that particular command. Alliances might be negotiated behind closed doors by rulers, but finding out whether people could actually stand one another happened out here.

 

[Ketra Tepesh]

Objective tag: Objective 3
Tag: Darth Carach

For not the first time that day, Ketra cursed her luck to no one in particular. She had become separated from the rest of the Sith acolytes exploring the abandoned tomb complex after a miniature earthquake caused by some sort of latent seismic instability. As she checked her datapad for the latest mapping telemetry to figure out the most optimal route to take in the winding maze, a jagged spider-web pattern had already begun to form in the bottom left corner of the screen, the result of some rough-and tumble falls taken during the quake.

"Kriffing kark it."

This was an Academy datapad, and she'd have to have it fixed one way or another by the time she returned. The parts would be trivial to source, especially since she still had her smuggling contacts at her beck and call, but it would be infinitely better to not have needed them in the first place.

Stowing her datapad, Ketra took stock of the room she had become trapped in. There was a sealed door at the end of the passageway shielded with a Force Lock, and above it was a plaque with an inscribed message, some sort of ancient Sith dialect that she couldn't quite recognize. Focusing in on her anger and frustration over the datapad, she tried using the wellspring of emotion within herself to smash open the lock, but to no avail.

Suddenly, she felt the presence of another close by.

 

[Aria Talorien]

A SCENE

INT. THE TYRANNY

THEN

♫ PAS DE DEUX — TCHAIKOVSKY

◈

x

◈

x

Aria's dark eyes were impassive, inscrutable as she watched Cassilde. Gosh, but she was pretty, wasn't she? She didn't have Aria's challenges. Her beauty was too abundant to be conventional. Her humor was remarkable. Aria liked her at once.

"That sounds like exactly what I said," Aria said pleasantly. If she noticed that the Hapan had taken the joke-bullet for Mercy -- because, really, it did speak about the Lord of the Core that she was dragging this poor woman around the galaxy to prove she could -- she didn't acknowledge it. She wondered idly whether they were lovers; that was hard to assess with the parade of female flesh that wandered around and through Mercy's corridors. So far, Aria was not part of it.

"Didn't say no," Aria mused under her breath at the Cassilde offered, an enigmatic smirk crossing her lips. Her fingers laced together in front of her. "Me? Oh, no. I will never make another picture," she said, referring to holofilms as pictures in the offhand way an old glam star would, but for Aria it was entirely without irony or affect. "Mercy will kill me when my novelty wears off, or else pass me along to one of these other cretins, who will find my lack of deference less charming than the big lady does."

She shrugged as if to say what can ya do, am I right? Mondays!

"Are you Hapan?" Aria asked bluntly, turning to her again. "I don't think I've ever seen someone so pretty in person in my whole life. They say Hapans are like that. What's your angle on that whole mess? A Mandalorian puppet on the throne. What could go wrong?"

x

◈

x

STARRING

Cassilde Vortayn

 

[Darth Carach]

Objective: 3
Tag: Ketra Tepesh

It was strange to be out into the world when the world had changed around him.

He remembered when he went to sleep.

The One Sith had dominated the center of the Galaxy for years. They had the Republic on the run, all bowed down before them, and Carach... as schemed... to secure more power for himself. Then he woke up and suddenly the whole Galaxy was different. The One Sith had been dead and buried for decades. The Republic had been slaughtered. The Mandalorians scattered and then re-united under a new Mand'alor. The Sith were now two factions, one in the Core and another one on the Outer Rim.

Naboo had become a superpower, seemingly running the High Republic, a new faction entirely.

It was all... rather confusing, disorientating, in fact.

He had walked the streets of Coruscant for hours until the former Voice of the Dark Lord got a hold of himself. Things had changed, except nothing had changed at all.

There was still the work and there was still his personal ambition. So what if the entire structure of his power base had collapsed and was nowhere to be found? So what if he had holes in his memory, and frankly couldn't remember anything past the last time he went to sleep? He was still him.

That was enough.

Instead of wallowing, Carach followed the path this new Sith faction was burning through the Galaxy. It seemed disinterested in trying to secure power, establish order or set itself up for long-term rule. It was... destroying, left and right, like petulant children. The contrast between the One Sith and the Covenant could not be more stark.

The Dark Lord, for all his flaws, had been a creature with a vision... the ones on top of this pile seemed to have no vision beyond the next world to burn.

Abregado-rae was the toast to that sentiment. A whole world of industry and potential... swallowed... by a plague. He had wandered these wastes, trying to make sense of it, until he had followed the lure of a new attraction. The Netherworld... the tectonic shifts... it had opened up something that Carach recognized as false... fake... unreal.

Yet here it was.

A tomb that should not exist.

Focusing in on her anger and frustration over the datapad, she tried using the wellspring of emotion within herself to smash open the lock, but to no avail.

Suddenly, she felt the presence of another close by.

A shadow clinging to the wall detached itself, tall, eyes burning likes flames for moths (or apprentices) to be annihilated in, looked dryly on as the apprentice frustrated herself against the lock.

"You know, one might think reading the manual first, is a good way to handle any situation thrown your way." Carach said in his trademark baritone voice. Low, smooth, this was a man who was used to be in charge. It was no wonder he had been the Voice of the Dark Lord for so many years.

Even now, decades after, he was comfortable in that role.

"If you did, you'd know the lock requires a blood offering, followed by the submission of one's spirit... by bowing to the door. The Sith of old had a funny sense of humor, did they not?"

Carach smiled at the woman.

"Darth Carach, and you are?"

 

[Srina Talon]

OBJECTIVE 1: THE WAR COUNCIL
IMMEDIATE TAG: Mercy | Arris Windrun | Aether Verd | Adelle Bastiel
LOCATION: The Tyranny

The pale woman allowed Mercy to lead for the moment, drifting at her side like a wraith, with footsteps that barely seemed to touch the shining floor. There was little hardship in it. Her sestra enjoyed the spotlight far more than the Echani ever had and possessed a taste for grandeur that Srina had never cultivated. It wasn’t that she didn’t have fire or spirit, but public speaking was just…Not something she preferred, and she would likely be speaking more than enough sooner rather than later.

Srina remained at the side of the Titan while the opening speech shot across the crowd, quiet, distant, but luminous in unholy ivory. She remained cold as stone, imperious, because the easy smiles that her battle-sister offered did not come to her naturally. Instead, she watched how the assembled parties reacted with hawkish yellow-gold eyes. Taking in…everything.

As the Empress of the Core pulled out a chair for her, she settled into it with all the grace her form possessed. “You are enjoying this too much…”, she murmured to her battle-sister, though her gaze returned to the table. There was no wasted movement, no scrape of the chair, not even a rustle of fabric beyond what gravity required. Her unfathomable gaze drifted over Adelle Bastiel and the assorted confections that had been gathered before drifting back to Aether Verd as his titles were offered. <<My nephew does not feed his people and does not come to see me, although my door is ever open.>>

Something in her endlessly frozen expression flickered when molten orbs turned back on the Mand’alor. Srina was incredibly difficult to read, even for those who knew her best.

<<I shall wither, knowing he loves me no longer.>>

“Ambassador Bastiel…”, the soft-spoken woman called for the attention of the armor-clad warrior, watching as she inspected the elegantly wrapped stormfruit candy. The words were personal, but it was impossible not to listen when the Blackwall Empress spoke. Her hands lifted to mimic unwrapping something…”You are meant to eat it.”

But she could not linger, not while they had work to do. Mercy had spoken of Mandalore before they entered, and the snow-pale woman had not missed the ripple it caused among their helmeted guests. She had seen armored shoulders tighten while attention sharpened, obviously drawing on historical damages to feel the ache of phantom destruction. The majority of the Mandalorians present hadn’t been alive when their homeworld was treated with extreme prejudice, genocide, and strip mining.

But…Ghosts remained.

Likely lingering in stories that were passed down from one generation to the next, in ruined sections of the planet, in the air, in the water. It all had memory if one knew where to look.

Srina understood that all too well.

“While there is common ground to be found between the Covenant and the Order…The history between the Sith and Mandalore is unpleasant.”, she began with a voice that never rose in volume but fell around the occupants of the room like rain, pulling attention, no matter what they were doing or who they were speaking to. Srina never needed to shout to be heard, and more often than not, her words could be felt in the bones. “I am not adept in subtlety, and I find little value in playing a game of platitudes and pretend.”

“Instead…I choose to admit that I understand why the destruction of Mandalore remains difficult to discuss. What was done to your world was deliberate, systematic, and intended to ensure that your people would never rise again.”

There was no attempt to soften it. Her head did not turn toward Darth Carnifex or Darth Prazutis to ask for permission to reference the deeds of the Kainite during Hammerfall so brazenly. Her hands moved so that her fingers could lace in her lap, and yellow-gold orbs seemed to focus on a distant point behind Aether Verd in a way that would feel like clinical dissociation. “My homeworld was orbitally bombarded by Mandalorians of that same age. Eshan burned, and my people died…I remember it quite clearly.”

Never had there been a moment within the Confederacy of Independent Systems in which her rage had been felt so openly. She was known for being practical in all things, even personal matters, but in that time…She had rallied every connection, every ally, and had even appealed to her Master to remove those...animals…from her home. The result had been an extermination of which the galaxy had not yet seen again.

Light and Dark, for once, had put their differences aside. If that could be believed.

“I have spent years learning to separate my hate between past and present. I will not hold the Mandalorian Empire of today responsible for things that happened half a century ago. I would ask for the same consideration…”, she trailed off, though elegant brows drew together for a moment. It wasn’t quite so simple.

“…But I do offer caution.”

“I know what I am. I know what my people are…Be they Covenant, Kainite, or Eternalist. They have never lied to me about it, and I won’t lie to you now. As long as I am an Empress of the Sith, I will do whatever is required to secure the future of my people. If the Jedi Order places itself between my children and that future…I will cleave through them. If the Republic insists upon making every world between us another battlefield, I will burn my way through those worlds to ensure they understand my position.”

We are the end of this planet… and the next one. And the next…

Again…And again. The end of this one, the next one...

She did not offer the Mandalorians a pretty fiction where the Sith had become something harmless and were no longer a threat. If anything, she sought to ensure that they knew who they were breaking bread with and did not expect angels of demons. There had been no cruelty in her words, no venom, and nothing that remotely sounded like a threat toward any of the assembled parties. Her eyes lingered on Aether Verd for a moment before she continued. His methods of crucifixion were known to her.

Perhaps he would understand better than Acier Moonbound had.

“But…I have no interest in murdering children in their beds merely because I possess the means to do so. I take no pleasure in killing those who present no threat…But that does not mean collateral damage will not occur. I guarantee you, that it will.”

Her eyes fell back to the table while she considered Thyferra. The Sith Order had given the Republic an opportunity to withdraw with their civilians and soldiers pending Sith inspection. It was not an act of charity. The battle had already been won, and she found it to be unnecessarily tedious to shoot fish in a barrel. “Any restraint you witness should not be confused with softness. I will inflict any manner of atrocity on those who stand in my way…I just prefer when my violence has purpose.”

It was about then that she circled back to the point of this gathering with a small glance toward Mercy, Arris, and the Dark Council before her voice found the air again. She was already…Exhausted with speaking so much. But she could hardly present a united front with her battle-sister if the people they were engaging did not understand. If this meeting, this arrangement, was based on lies and misconceptions—it was just a house of cards waiting to fall, and that didn’t serve anyone but their enemies. “I suppose…This is the heart of what we bring to the table. Trust is…Not a requirement. Knowing where we stand, is.”

There was a considerable difference.

“You need not trust every Sith beneath our banner. I certainly do not expect every Mandalorian to have a sudden change of heart. You may disagree with us to maintain your dignity and independence. You may keep your distance where you believe it prudent…But none of that prevents cooperation.”

The Iron Covenant immediately came to mind. Her expression cooled by degrees…Because she had not forgotten the cowardly attack to her back on Humbarine, followed by the idiocy on Abregado-Rae. It was starting to give her a headache just thinking about it because, in retrospect…It made little sense. “I confess that the Mandalorian situation on Humbarine was briefly confusing...But we are aware that the Iron Covenant are not the Mandalorian Empire. The distinction matters because their choices are their own. They may hate me until the stars burn out….”

She never questioned the intentions of her nephew and godson, but she knew firsthand what it was like trying to keep an entire nation on the same page. He was her child, just as much as any of the Sith present, whether he liked it or not…But that didn’t suddenly change the way the galaxy would perceive things.

“What concerns me…Is whether their grievances have threaded through your people enough to threaten mine. You know me well, Aether. I protect my children.”

Mercy Arris Windrun Quinn Varanin Aether Verd Ivalyn Yvarro Nagual Aria Talorien Lysander von Ascania [ Cassilde Vortayn Varin Mortifer Helix Adonis Angelis IV Taeli Raaf Gerwald Lechner Amelia von Sorenn Astra Sadow Leontis Antalis Zeptepi Zambrano CT-312 Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Siv Kryze Darth Reign Veyla Krinn Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Lirka Ka Adelle Bastiel Mia Monroe Lily Rhodes Nephthys Nardithi-Verd I am so sorry if I missed anyone needed, tag list BIG CHONK.​

 

[Eira Dyn]

Attire: Jacket and Smart Outfit
Equipment: Lethal Pursuers (hidden)
Tags: OPEN

Eira had gone to Dantooine after Thyferra's takeover by the Sith. She had solidified her dedication to the Sith and severed the final ties to the life she had lived before. The feeling of liberation was deeply satisfying and she felt more of the monster that Thyferra had demanded she became. That she had been told to become. Her outfit was dark, almost absorbing the light as she walked. There confidence she carried was less bravado as it had been and more calculated, predatory as if she was waiting with every moment to seize a chance to strike. Eira did not move the feral animal that Quinn had found, but she was not the refined, cooler headed diplomat that Quinn had be carefully forging in Eira. She was hunting, primed to strike when needed whether that was with her tongue or with her blades.

The Sith apprentice was no longer holding back.

Pausing, Eira had paid no attention to Quinn's bodyguard, not even looking in the direction of CT-312 instead, she listened to Quinn's works and gave a curt nod. There was little appeal in forging friendships, the soldier had ensured that Eira could never make that mistake again. No, this was a chance to listen. Understand the gossip amongst those not attending the council meeting and then report that back to Quinn Varanin . That would be how Eira was still of use and that she could do things that others in Quinn's retinue could not. That was crucial for Eira. To be invaluable.

Walking straight past CT-312 without a word, Eira decided to circle around the room. Get a chance to see where everyone was and to see who was in attendance. It was crowded as Quinn had forewarned them but Eira did not care. It made it easier to move around, to listen on the voices speaking with the obvious signs that she was doing so. Eira continued to walk. Spying Darth Carnifex with several women around him. Her eyes narrowed, it had been a long time since they had last talked. In fact it had been when he drowned her. Seeing him with several women by his side. It burned a frustration in Eira that she had not expected to feel. Especially since it had been so long since she last seen the man. Breathing in deeply, she suppressed the feelings, they were not going to help her today.

No, she needed to continue wandering. Her gaze finally fell upon Darth Prazutis , who seemed to not have anyone that would be engaging him in conversation yet. Eira wandered over to him, giving a short bow as she approached him. "Greetings Darth Prazutis. I hope you don't mind me coming over. I was just curious to learn more about you and hear your thoughts on the current affairs." Eira spoke in her deep husky tone as she looked to take a step closer to Prazutis.

 

[Mercy]

OBJECTIVE 1: THE WAR COUNCIL
IMMEDIATE TAG: Srina Talon Aether Verd Adelle Bastiel Arris Windrun Quinn Varanin
IMMEDIATE REPRESENTATIVES: Mia Monroe Lirka Ka Gerwald Lechner Taeli Raaf
LOCATION: On board the Tyranny

OBJECTIVE TAG: Srina Talon Arris Windrun Quinn Varanin Aether Verd Ivalyn Yvarro Nagual Aria Talorien Lysander von Ascania Cassilde Vortayn Varin Mortifer Helix Adonis Angelis IV Taeli Raaf Gerwald Lechner Amelia von Sorenn Astra Sadow Leontis Antalis Zeptepi Zambrano CT-312 Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Siv Kryze Darth Reign Veyla Krinn Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Lirka Ka Adelle Bastiel Mia Monroe Lily Rhodes Nephthys Nardithi-Verd I am so sorry if I missed anyone needed, tag list BIG CHONK.

.

Srina didn't often speak at such lengths.

Just as with many other things, this too, was a contrast between them.

The sun and the moon. Passion and dispassion. Heat and frost.

Where Mercy thrived in the spotlight, soaking in the attention like a dragon soaked in the heat of the sun, Srina clearly was less enthusiastic about the need to talk as much. Mercy's hand gently covered hers, squeezing lightly in encouragement. The Empress of the Order hardly needed it, she managed to cut right to the heart of things with ease, but Mercy wanted to support her sestra anyway.

After Thyferra... just a touch was enough to make sure that Srina was still here.

In the end she asked the right question.

They could offer many things, accept even more, but would the children of Mandalore be able to look past their grievances? At least one strain of them, the Iron Covenant, could not. Filth and mongrels, the lot of them. Coming into her backyard, attacking them on Humbarine, fighting a war they considered righteous against the Sith that had nothing to do with what happened to Mandalore.

No matter what agreements would be reached here today... there would only be death for those of the Mythic Fleet.

"An injustice was done to the children of Mandalore." Mercy finally said in the wake of Srina's words. "The planet destroyed, its future buried, its resources plundered." Her eyes ran from Adelle Bastiel to Aether Verd . "A genocide. Committed by the Sith. As Srina said, to ensure that you would never rise again."

Her fingers slowly tapped on the table as she mulled that over.

"A great sin has stood between the people of Mandalore and the Sith ever since." Her gaze fixated on Aether now. "And if across from me sat the Infernal, I would do it all over again, if not worse."

She felt the tension from Srina at her words. But Mercy wasn't a diplomat, she didn't care if her words riled and pissed people off. This is who she was, what she was. It was how Mercy could stand across from Acier Moonbound while he lobbed accusations at her, without offering a single explanation.

Because Mercy knew she was a monster.

"However, across from me sits Mand'alor the Iron, whose word is beskar." Mercy sighed and leaned back into her chair. "So, since I am dealing with the Iron, I will offer iron in return." She snapped her finger and a Graspborn peeled away from the wall, depositing a bag in the center of the table.

Out of it came auradium, electrum, bronzium, but most importantly... beskar.

"I will assume responsibility for the blood debt between our people. I will personally pay a Core's ransom of gold, silver and most important of all... the ancient iron of your people conquered from the filth infesting my backyard. Tell me, who else has done this for Mandalore besides you yourself? Has the Jedi come to your assistance? The High Republic? Have the mongrels who are fighting a Crusade against me lifted a finger to help you rebuild Mandalore?"

She slammed her fist against the table and it cracked.

Passion surged through her veins, the Dark Side pulsed from her indignation and rage.

"What do I propose, Ambassador? I propose doing what no outsider has done for you in fifty years. I will pay the fucking debt owed."

It was elegant, in a way only Mercy’s ham-fisted aggressive approach could be.

The Infernal wasn’t here to pay for it herself. Her treachery had caused the doom of her own world, but she allowed her people to pay the price rather than face the consequences herself.

Fine. Then Mercy would take the debt herself.

Maybe the Mandalorians wouldn’t go for it.

But here, now? Mercy was immensely pleased with herself. And those closest to her, from Srina to Quinn to Arris, they’d all feel it roil off of her together with the wrath still steaming in the air.

 

[Astra Sadow]

"In the end, it's all about connecting with the right people. People that can help steer opinion socially, politically, or economically in favor of continued collaboration. We can never convince everyone -- nor do we need to -- but we can convince enough to make this a mutually beneficial arrangement." Astra looked to the Mandalorians present. "There seems to be the beginnings of those connections here."

She was amply prepared to support her sentiments with deeds, which should be more persuasive than her words. Word would need to be sent to Sanguine's criminal elements not to trouble the Mandalorian Empire. Certainly no efforts to expand into that territory for now. Avoid any needless altercations -- Astra wouldn't tell them to demur if the beskar-wearing men or women started something, however. Not a terrible sacrifice on her part. Much of her legitimate and ilegitimate activities had been Core-focused, but there'd been some expansion of late. Wouldn't want any of her subordinates getting "ideas."

Veyla had a few sentiments, herself, which drew a golden gaze. "I couldn't agree more. Though it is unavoidable that it is always easier to destroy than to create, there are elements that seek to maintain a stable and prosperous base without the need for unnecessary violence and wanton destruction. We could certainly furnish any materials needed to reconstruct or even elevate Mandalorian enclaves." Cities, planets... Sanguine had quite the reconstruction subsidiary. They'd collected quite a bit more experience rebuilding on Humbarine and Abregado-rae.

Helix | Veyla Krinn | Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr | Siv Kryze | Varin Mortifer​

 

[Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr]

​

THE DIVIDE
​

Objective I, THE WAR COUNCIL
Location: ABOARD THE TYRANNY

Ship: The Bes'hurok (Iron Rock) Armed Adviso

Armor: Protector-type Beskar'gam

Primary Weapon: A-180 Modular Blaster

Secondary Weapons: Briletto PPK, Stun Baton,

Blade: Tal'Alor Beskad
Sidekick: Ta-2P0 (Tappo)

Interacting With : Siv Dragr , Veyla Krinn , Helix , Varin Mortifer

---

​

Their conversation was postponed as Aether Verd spoke and the Mandalorians naturally gave him their attention. But that was but a short interlude as Dral-Kar'ta turned back to the group and Siv made some very salient points. He supposed it came down to whether the view of the Sith was 'you are either with us or against us' or if they could accept and respect neutrality.

Varin addressed their questions in apparent good faith and appeared to accept the Mandalorians as equals. As much as a Sith could believe anyone was their equal. But the most interesting answer of his was his last and it was really a question.

'What is it that you would want out of this? What is something you want the Mandalorian Empire to obtain that was once before thought impossible?'

That question was intriguing as it demonstrated that the Sith, or at least Varin's faction of the Sith, was genuinely serious about a proposal as, if one was intend on shoving an agreement down the throats of the other party they would not be concerned with that party's opinions. He would look directly at Varin when he was answered but he would let Siv, as a Mandalorian Warden, answer.

The reply of Helix was also straightforward than he expected. Even though his example was partially discounted it was done so in a logical fashion and no offence was taken as Dral-Kar'ta was willing to accept the motivations of others. He had had few interactions with truly sentient droids and perhaps his relationship to his own droid Tappo had changed his perspective of droids as more than the robotic Clankers of the old wars. In a way Helex's reply was more honest than Varin's. It was nuanced but for a droid, nor matter how complicated or nuanced a calculation was, for them, it eventually came down to a one or a zero and the optimal option was executed. Humans on the other hand could determine that yes was the correct answer but still say no because of emotions.

"Tell me." He said to both his Sith counterparts echoing Shadow's words. "You say that the Sith are not a monolith. So, if an agreement is reached here today, would those on your side abide by it if they do not agree with it or would they act to undermine or disregard it? We ourselves have been no stranger to factionalism."

Veyla's words about wanting time to be able to build faster than things could be destroyed was exactly what he and his Alor had agreed upon as the position of Clan Saandyr. He wanted to look at her but kept his gaze upon the Sith in a show of unanimity.

"I second the desire of my fellow Vod. I am the heir to my Clan and the Constable of Maridun our home since our clanlands on Mandalore were destroyed in the last war. Our goal is to build a lasting home for our tribe and planet our grandchildren can inherit as part of a free Mandalore. If that can be achieved I will not say Clan Saandyr will forget but I can say that we will be willing to forgive the actions of the past. If a true accord is to be forged here today it must be able to withstand the strains of people who are perhaps not walking the same path but are at least traveling in the same direction."

 

[Ceria Kesyk]

Cruelty​

Aboard the Tyranny's bridge...

Command did not cease, even in times of peace - or between battles, in any case. This was especially true when the Tyranny hosted numerous guests: the leaders of three great nations and their entourages.

Kesyk might have complained if Mercy herself hadn't put the whole thing together. Where the Vice Admiral was concerned, a Super Star Destroyer was an instrument of slaughter, not a tea parlor.

Still... there was small pride to be found as the dreadnought's commander on such a day... that not only would their guests have the privilege of setting foot on the galaxy's latest super star destroyer, but they would do so knowing it had just scored a great victory against the Mythic Fleet, shattering any illusion that space was their front to win, merely because they roamed the stars. Playing nomad was no substitute for the skill of command.

Of course, Kesyk's maladaptive musings were cut short when she felt a familiar presence lurking behind her on the bridge.

For a split second, she nearly prostrated herself before the splitting image of her Empress, until she confirmed it was her other half.

"Cruelty," Kesky said. "I'm sure you have better things to do than stalk me at my own station... Do you need something?"

It was odd for Ceria to speak to anyone with such familiarity. In fact, it caused the deck officers to pause and process the moment before returning to their work at the woman's glare. Yet Cruelty had earned it. No matter the Vice Admiral's pride.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
ALLIES: Mercy Srina Talon Quinn Varanin Aether Verd Ivalyn Yvarro Nagual Aria Talorien Lysander von Ascania Cassilde Vortayn Varin Mortifer Helix Adonis Angelis IV Taeli Raaf Amelia von Sorenn Astra Sadow Leontis Antalis Zeptepi Zambrano CT-312 Darth Carnifex Darth Prazutis Siv Kryze Darth Reign Veyla Krinn Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Lirka Ka Adelle Bastiel Mia Monroe Lily Rhodes Nephthys Nardithi-Verd

Gerwald had remained quiet through most of the exchange.

There had been little reason to interrupt while Srina laid bare the history everyone in the room already carried with them, and even less reason once Mercy chose to put something tangible on the table. Gold could be dismissed as theater. Beskar could not. Whatever else anyone thought of the gesture, responsibility had been claimed openly and a price offered against a debt no one had bothered to answer for in decades.

That mattered.

His attention moved toward the Mandalorians as the discussion continued, lingering on the question beneath nearly everything they had asked since entering the chamber. What was being offered mattered. What was expected in return mattered more. Yet none of it meant much if either side believed the arrangement would collapse the first time someone disagreed with it.

That was the part Gerwald understood better than most.

He had spent too much of his life serving governments built from people who did not agree with one another to mistake unity for sameness. The Confederacy had been proof enough of that. Worlds with different laws, cultures, militaries, economies, and ambitions had managed to stand beneath the same banner without becoming identical. They had argued constantly. Some had disliked one another intensely. Yet disagreement had not automatically meant betrayal.

The Dread Wolf finally leaned forward.

“There seems to be an assumption beneath much of this conversation that an agreement only survives if everyone involved believes in it.”

His gaze moved between the Mandalorian representatives before settling somewhere near the center of the table.

“That has never been true.”

Gerwald rested his forearms against the edge of the table, his tone calm enough that nothing in it competed with the passion Mercy had brought moments before.

“I served the Confederacy for years. There were worlds beneath that banner that shared almost nothing beyond the understanding that cooperation served them better than isolation. Some of them hated each other. Some barely tolerated the government connecting them. They did not need to become the same people in order to stand beside one another.”

His eyes shifted briefly toward Srina.

He knew better than most what had been demanded of those who carried the Confederacy on their shoulders, just as he knew how quickly old loyalties could become inconvenient memories once circumstances changed. None of that erased the lesson.

“What mattered was whether the terms were clear and whether those responsible for honoring them possessed the discipline to do so.”

Gerwald looked back toward the Mandalorians.

“You are not here because you want another master. I would consider the conversation a failure if that were what we expected of you.”

There was no hesitation in the statement. An alliance built on submission would only create another grievance that someone would eventually have to answer for. The Mandalorians would remain Mandalorian. The Sith would remain Sith. Pretending otherwise would accomplish nothing beyond making everyone at the table dishonest.

“You will disagree with us. There will be Sith who disagree with you. There may be Sith who dislike whatever comes from this room entirely.” His expression remained unchanged. “None of that matters if those empowered to speak for our governments make an agreement and possess the authority to enforce it.”

That was where the real question rested.

Not whether everyone liked the arrangement.

Whether the people responsible for it could make their word mean something.

Gerwald's attention moved briefly toward the beskar Mercy had placed before them before returning to those across the table.

“@Mercy has offered payment against an old debt. Srina Talon has already made clear that the Sith Order has no intention of pretending the past did not happen. If Mandalore wants something its children can inherit beyond another generation of rebuilding, then perhaps we begin there.”

His voice remained measured, but the words carried more weight as he continued.

“Not forgiveness. Not friendship. Terms.”

The Dread Wolf settled back slightly.

“Borders respected. Agreements honored. Enemies identified where our interests overlap, and enough discipline on both sides to understand that disagreement does not become war simply because someone finds the other difficult.”

His gaze moved around the council chamber.

“If we require one hundred percent acceptance before we cooperate, then everyone in this room may as well leave now.”

A faint trace of amusement touched his expression before disappearing.

“If we require only that our word mean something once it is given, then I suspect we are considerably closer to an answer than some of you believe.”

 

[Siv Kryze]

.​

​

Siv gave a small nod toward Veyla Krinn , the gesture carrying a quiet approval of her answer for Varin Mortifer . She had put the Mandalorian position plainly enough. They were not here looking to pick sides in another galactic conflict, nor were they seeking to dictate what the Sith did within their own sphere. Mandalore had enough to rebuild and protect without adding another war to its doorstep.

There was no shame in keeping one's distance. The Mandalorians could tend to their own affairs and let the rest of the galaxy sort out its problems. That did not mean they would be caught unprepared should those problems eventually find them.

As Helix finished, Siv's helmet turned toward him, followed by a slow, deliberate nod.

"That's something I can understand," he said. "If that's where we're starting from, then I think there's reason to be encouraged."

His gaze moved across the room before returning to the others.

"Mandalore isn't asking anyone here to surrender their interests. We simply want to know that when those interests cross, there is enough understanding between us to keep them from becoming another reason for conflict."

Siv's attention then shifted toward Astra Sadow , listening to her response before giving a slight tilt of his head.

"I think that's where the distinction matters. We aren't asking for guarantees that nothing will ever change. We are asking whether there is enough common ground to keep things from becoming another cycle of escalation."

His helmet turned toward Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr next, giving the younger Mandalorian his full attention.

"And I think Dral's point is important for the same reason. Mandalore has no interest in pretending that history does not exist. We've seen where blind trust can lead us. But if we allow that history to make every opportunity for cooperation impossible, then we're no better off than we were before."

Siv folded his arms across his chest, his posture noticeably more relaxed than it had been when the discussion began.

"From where I'm standing, there's a lot more to be confident about than there was when we first walked in."

His helmet slowly turned toward the direction where Aether and the others would soon move to begin the deliberations.

"I suppose that's what matters most to me. We've heard each other out, we've made our positions clear, and there seems to be enough understanding between us to have a productive discussion about what comes next."

Siv gave a final, measured nod toward the room before letting his arms fall naturally to his sides.

"At least, that's how I see it. I'm interested to hear what the rest of you make of it before we move on."

With that, he remained where he stood, leaving the floor open for the discussion to continue.

Tag: Dral-Kar'ta Saandyr Helix Varin Mortifer Veyla Krinn Astra Sadow​

 

[Ayrith Drayen]

/// DIRECTIVE UPDATED, USER UPDATE IN PROGRESS.
/// PENANCE IS OWED.
/// ADJUSTMENT REQUIRED.

///LOCATION: REDACTED
///OBJECTIVE: PUNISHMENT 2-3 (BYOO)

Ayrith began to stir, her feet floating above polished, segmented floor panels. Her brain weakly counted them as lucidity came and went, her arms unable to move freely, her strength failing when she attempted to crane her neck upward to better see and comprehend the reason for her lack of physical autonomy.

Heavy thuds struck the floor, discomfort set in as she gradually came to the understanding that she was being carried by droids, her vision blurring, only vague shapes that never lent themselves to anything remotely distinguished. Hearing was at a loss, muffled medical equipment chirping and beeping nearby, unintelligible voices speaking and being responded to.

An aching pain set in, her bones felt as if they were throbbing, her skin twitched and spasmed as nerves misfired. Her body was remembering the cruelty it endured moments prior to the confusion that she'd found herself in, abrupt flashes of memory imprinting visuals onto the insides of her eyelids, her own wailing coupled with the words of a familiar voice faintly replaying within her skull.

Released from the steely grasp of the unknown machines, Ayrith's body was carelessly dropped onto a flat surface, her eyes assaulted by blinding white light directly above her.

"Dr. Drayen, everything is prepped. We're ready to proceed with the next phase."

A hololink stimulated the ear of the man who awaited Ayrith's delivery, medical personnel reviewing calibrations and diagnostics nearby spoke amongst themselves, moving around one another like a colony of insects all burdened with a specific task. Surgical instruments set aside, polished and gleaming against the bleaching erasure of the lighting in the room.

Automated restraints clamped over Ayrith's limbs, her head held down flat against the table she lay on, the back of her neck and scalp tensing against cold, sterile metal. Footsteps approached her, faceless silhouettes beginning to crowd around.

Then him.

"My child..."

A hand gloved in pure white caressed Ayrith's cheek.

"You need not worry, this will all be over soon. We're going to help you realize your potential."

A whimper pushed through her lips, tears began trailing down the sides of her face.

"Hush now. Ascendance is at hand. Unto you I've placed my name, and with it a certain respect is... expected. Through me you've been granted an identity, something more than the baseline of care my colleagues practice. I do this out of love, I assure you."

Just outside of Ayrith's peripheral, a needle was brought to her neck, the plunger being pushed inward as an anesthetic was administered.

Once again, a void enveloped all awareness.

All the lights and sounds of the moment, gone.

"Operation commencing."
​