Private The Future is Ours

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Beskar'gam - Darksaber​

DATHOMIR

Dathomir rose beneath a bruised sky, its red earth exhaling mist and memory, a world where shadow was not feared but understood. For generations, the Witches of this planet had stood in quiet comradeship with the Mandalorians, not bound by conquest or oath, but by respect forged through shared wars and older understandings. That balance had endured until the Mandalorian Empire’s ascent stirred old conversations anew, and a younger generation of witches began to press for distance, for autonomy sharpened into separation, their voices colliding with the elders over what place Mandalore should hold in Dathomir’s future.

It was in answer to that tension that Aether Verd had chosen restraint where others would have chosen presence. No Mandalorian boots occupied Dathomir’s soil beyond necessity, no garrisons cast long shadows over coven lands, and no banners flew where they were not invited. Only a light patrol lingered in the system, sufficient to protect borders without suffocating sovereignty. The burden of mediation fell instead upon one trusted voice. Vytal Noctura, Warden of Dathomir, bore the responsibility of carrying her world’s will to Mandalore and returning with the Empire’s answer, maintaining a fragile peace built on mutual respect rather than force.

Tonight, that arrangement was given form.

The Kom'rk-type Fighter/Transport descended through the cloud cover with measured precision, engines murmuring as it settled upon the landing platform near the Sanctuary. The ramp lowered with a soft hydraulic hiss, and Aether disembarked in unhurried order, his armored silhouette framed by crimson stone and drifting mist. He moved with the calm certainty of a ruler who had learned that authority need not announce itself loudly, coming to rest at the base of the ramp where durasteel met sacred ground.

There he waited.

No weapon was drawn, no helm removed, no gesture made to claim the space as his own. He stood as a guest, posture composed and deliberate, gaze lifted toward the Sanctuary’s twisted spires where ritual lights burned against the dark. The planet seemed to watch him in return, the air heavy with old power and older judgment, as if Dathomir itself weighed the meaning of his presence.

This visit had been scheduled with care, its timing communicated clearly so that no coven mistook it for intrusion or threat. Aether remained still at the foot of the ramp, neither advancing nor retreating, a living acknowledgment that some worlds demanded patience before dialogue.

The Nightmother would arrive in her own time, and when she did, the future of Dathomir’s place within the Mandalorian Empire would begin not with words spoken too soon, but with silence respected.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

The soft splash of water filled the chamber.

A patter of feet preceded a Sister appearing with a call for the Sanctum's Mother.

Vytal slowly let the breath escape her lips as she drew upon the ichor about her. Green mists wound their way about her bare forearm. Swiftly, the pale flesh of her arm mended from the slashes that'd been left by the monster recently felled. Her head rose and turned to look back over her shoulder at the young woman.

Aether had come.

She rose to her feet without comment. Both arms held out to either side as she asked those in attendance to bring her a robe. There wasn't time to don her usual armor. While they did not rush to meet the Mandalorian will, Vytal wouldn't have him stand there idly thinking she thought less of him being forced to wait on her.

The red robed, pale Witch strode through the Sanctum with a nod to those that hailed in her passing. Her Emerald eyes slid over their countenance to mark their health and satisfaction. It was never enough to wait for people to provide a 'report' on the well-being of one's Coven -- such were the ways of Outsiders with communities too vast for Nightsisters that had never left Dathomir to imagine.

A gesture had the two Sisters that had accompany her linger at the gate that led to the landing pad. Vytal would approach the Mand'alor alone.

"Mand'alor." A slight curl at the corners of her lips asked if this were a formal occasion or a personal one. She'd assume the former until the latter were asserted. "A pleasure to have you here once more. Will you be staying? There will be freshly roasted meat." And far too many beautiful Dathomiri women about a fire for his own good. Vytal would have to make sure -- if he stayed -- that they didn't try luring him into one of their 'games' they liked to play on the Brothers. Amusing as it would be, a head of state was not the best target of such things.

Aether Verd​

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Beskar'gam - Darksaber​

SANCTUM, DATHOMIR

Patience had always come easily to Aether, not as a virtue learned in still halls, but as a discipline carved into him by campaigns where waiting mattered more than striking first. He remained at the foot of the ramp, unmoving amid drifting mist and crimson stone, until the presence approaching through the gate announced itself without herald or hurry. When the Nightmother emerged in robes the color of old blood and ritual flame, Aether inclined his head in a measured, respectful gesture, neither deep enough to signal submission nor shallow enough to insult the ground she walked.

“Nightmother,” he said evenly, his voice carrying warmth beneath its authority as he lifted his gaze to meet hers. “Thank you for having me and for the warm welcome.”

There was a faint ease in his posture now, the tension of arrival giving way to something more familiar, something closer to home despite the alien sky above. Aether’s mouth curved with restrained humor as her offer lingered between them, and when he spoke again there was life in his tone, the kind that carried easily across a firelit camp.

“You've stumbled upon my weakness...” he replied, a quiet laugh threaded through the words without dulling their sincerity. “If there is roasted meat is on the menu, then I certainly would love to stay. Thank you for the hospitality.”

He shifted his stance only slightly, hands settling at his sides as though grounding himself to the moment rather than the politics that followed him wherever he ruled. When he continued, his cadence softened, deliberate in its honesty, shaped by respect for the spirits that listened as closely as any council.

“I had hoped we might speak of Dathomir as it stands.” Aether said, meeting her gaze without challenge or pretense. “And to see whether there is anything I, or Mandalore, can do for my grandmother’s people.”

The words were light in delivery, but careful in intent, offered plainly without the sharpened edges of negotiation. Dathomir was no place for half-truths or polished lies, and Aether knew better than to bring them here. He let the silence breathe after that, trusting the ground beneath his boots and the spirits beyond sight to recognize honesty when it stood before them.

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

From his demeanor and tone, Vytal took it to mean the visit was not of urgent haste or sour disposition. With recent events in the galaxy that was welcome. Though they could do better than treat with the Sith to ensure the Empire's fortunes remained buoyant. Difficult to argue Aether shouldn't engage with Srina Talon, however; such arguments might question why he bothered with her as well. At least the Sith Order wasn't yet waging a galactic campaign to conquer all worlds.

"You are welcome here anytime, Aether." Whether he was still Mand'alor or not. Nightsisters had little need of Outsider title and circumstance, after all. If they thought you friend it went well beyond the trappings of galactic social spheres. Seeing how he was at ease and laughed, it felt appropriate his visit was less formal; even if he would go on to ask about planetary relations.

"There are yet Covens unconvinced to engage with any Outsider," she acknowledged, "but tis no open strife between Sisters or Brothers," as they had once feared. "This Sanctum," a gesture to the fortress behind her, "was built as a neutral meeting ground for them to discuss, and to bring awareness of issues that trouble those of Dathomir."

Vytal regarded Aether for a moment with her green eyes. "Dathomir is no place for... development, but there are people that come seeking the wealth found only on its soil. Perhaps Mandalore could aid us in reconstructing the spaceport abandoned so long ago. To give our... guests a singular place to land." It was less about protecting the wilds from the harm of ships, and more discerning the intent of visitors. Anyone straying from the path could be presumed to have a hidden agenda -- or the coven they were consorting with might be the one with the agenda. Whatever the case, a place for any Sister or Brother to watch and know. "Twould give them all a chance to see the people of Mandalore in action outside of battle."

"What is it that Dathomir can do for you, Aether?" There was more she would say, but talking his ear off trying to placate a concern he might not even have wasn't a way to converse.

The pale Witch turned slightly and looked to him to see if he wanted to begin walking in the direction of the fire, or wish to tarry a moment to discuss something out of earshot of others.

Aether Verd​

 

[Aether Verd]

Wearing:
Beskar'gam - Darksaber​

DATHOMIR

The name reached him before the meaning did, carried on her voice without title or ceremony, and Aether answered it with a slow, gracious smile that softened the hard lines of his armor. He dipped his head in thanks, a quiet acknowledgment of the distinction she had drawn so deliberately, and of the trust implied in it.

“Your welcome honors me, Vytal.” he replied, tone measured and sincere, the man speaking rather than the throne he carried with him. “Dathomir has never been generous with its doors, so I do not take that lightly.”

He listened as she spoke of the covens, attention fixed and undivided, his stillness shaped by respect rather than restraint. When she finished, he inclined his head once more, understanding etched plainly into his expression.

“I cannot fault those who choose caution,” Aether said evenly. “Dathomir has paid dearly for the ambitions of Outsiders, and memory does not fade simply because banners change.” His gaze lifted briefly toward the Sanctuary, then returned to her. “Mandalorians know that hesitation well when dealing with those who wield the Force. Suspicion is not cruelty, it is survival.”

At the mention of peace between Sisters and Brothers, his posture eased further, relief threading through his voice without diminishing its authority.

“I had hoped that would be the case.” he continued. “If the Empire’s presence warms those who have chosen distance in time, then that is a blessing. If it does not, then I am still grateful that there is no strife between your people. Peace on Dathomir is the most ideal outcome I could ask for, and the Sanctuary you have raised gives that peace a place to be born.”

Her regard lingered on him, and Aether met it without flinching as she spoke of visitors and of the abandoned spaceport. He folded one arm across his chest, fingers brushing his chin as he considered the matter with a tactician’s eye rather than a conqueror’s instinct. After a moment, he nodded, decision settling into place.

“Reconstructing the spaceport would serve Dathomir well.” Aether said at last. “Not as development, but as discernment. A single point of arrival offers clarity, and clarity keeps the wilds untouched by those who do not belong.”

He lifted his hand slightly, gesturing in the air between them as though outlining the path of ships and intent alike.

“It would funnel Outsider presence into one place.” he continued, voice steady and thoughtful. “Those who wish to remain apart would need only watch one horizon instead of every sky, and those who arrive with hidden designs would find fewer shadows to hide within.”

The gesture shifted then toward her, open rather than demanding, an invitation to shape the solution together.

“Tell me what Mandalore must provide to make this possible.” Aether asked calmly. “The Empire has the means, but I am mindful of what Outsider machinery and personnel represent here. How do we accomplish this in a way that serves Dathomir first, and does not violate the trust you have worked to preserve.”

Vytal Noctura

 

[Vytal Noctura]

​

Vytal smile in silence at Aether's gratitude. The Nightsisters did guard their merciless red world with a fierce possessiveness. There were other worlds where magick reigned, but this world was theirs. It was something they and the Mandalorians shared -- the tenacity to recover even when everyone believed they had finally driven your entire culture to extinction.

And what he said about suspicious was understood. Perhaps that fierce possessiveness had soured them to a Sister long hence from them and the return of the Mandalorian, but that had not lessened its sting any. An errant youth flung into the void that never stopped seeking knowledge and allies to protect the home on the other side of the galaxy... Perhaps a bit of that youth had lingered in some dark recess believing she would be welcomed home with cheers. A dream held tightly as she wade through the obsidian pools of the Nether, and confronted foul entities words stilled at their mere thought? Passed now. They did what was needed, as they always had.

With a thoughtful hum, the Nethermother accepted Aether's well wishes; she kept thoughts of peace be far afield from those on Dathomir to herself, however. Their form of peace. Not that sort an Outsider would hope for where no predators prowled and all of one's needs were met by scarcely lifting a finger. Like the Mandalorians, the ways of Dathomir thrived on conflict not complacency. There was no war, but rivalry between covens spurred new ideas.

"I will convey the intent to the Covens. So long as the machinery remains around the spaceport it should brook no reprisal." The area was already 'developed' so there was hardly any harm being done that had not already been accomplished. And the benefits would outweigh the cost -- she would emphasize as much. Corral the Offworlders to one place to keep an eye on them. "Some will still attempt to raid the site. A few of your Basilisks should help deter the Rancor-riders." A Sister would never ride their Rancor into a battle they knew serious harm would come to the beast with no appreciable gain. "Aside from that, those skilled at surveying and constructing a spaceport, and the materials they may need to fix or rebuild what has fallen into disrepair." Hardly skills her people were adept at.

If anything, the Mandalorians might like having their perimeter tested by hit-and-run tactics of the hunters and protectors. Especially the younger ones that had to learn patience, long-suffering, and uncertainty of jungle warfare.

"What would it be that the Empire would ask of Dathomir?" Vytal gazed into Aether's eyes. "I did not accept handouts for the Mandokarla of the Confederacy, and Nightsisters will not be accused of such. Generosity will not be looked down upon, but we are a people of action -- as the Mandalorian are -- and thus something in return should be offered." There were Sisters that would suspect anything given 'freely,' but Vytal spoke true for herself as well. Sometimes you were given a gift, which you accepted graciously. But that was the exception to the rule of equivilent exchange.

Aether Verd​