The Galactic Alliance [ Mando'ade, Sacred Lotus, Free Worlds Coalition, Galactic Empire, Iron Empire

Alkor Centaris · May 15, 2017

He watched as Vilaz, the cultural sovreign of his people acted in a way that made sense. In a world filled with insanity, conflict, and bad blood, the logical conclusion was to war against the things that made war with you. Alkor was present for the situation on Myrkr, if not directly involved. The way Ticon told the story, the Imperials had acted in an impulsive manner and threatened the Mandalorian people. It seemed to the Dark Jedi that bringing the cause of that strife directly before Mand'alor was a poor practice, and he wondered if that had been the intention all along-

Or the Imperials were just very bad at diplomacy.

The Grand Moff of the So-Called Empire stormed out with his accompaniment in tow, and Vilaz was escorted out in a less than dignified manner. That left very few people in the room. [member="Keira Ticon"] took her place in the seat originally intended for Mand'alor, and gestured for Alkor to sit alongside her. With a slight motion of his hand, he declined the subtle-but-not-insignificant gesture on the part of the woman who called him Brother. There was no voice in a meeting to broker peace for a bloodied assassin. Instead, Alkor folded his arms and closed his eyes. He was little more than an observer here, insurance if threats to House Verd's final voice of reason came up.

Thus did he doubt any need of action on his part moving forward. The Silver Lotus Jedi were a peaceful bunch, and he doubted seriously that the diplomatic entourages from other nations wanted to follow the piss-poor example that had already been set. Alkor found his place several paces behind Keira, leaned against the wall of the room.

"House Verd still maintains a vested interest in the proceedings of this meeting, even if Munin has displayed an inability to follow your rules," he added, in case [member="Draco Vereen"] had anything to say about their continued presence. "As you are aware, the Clans act autonomously in everything except during wartimes. On that basis, and without Vilaz invoking the Resol'nare to call us to war, we maintain the right to speak on behalf of our own."

His azure gaze skimmed across those gathered.

[member="HK-36"], [member="Nylea Apollodor"], [member="Hazel Zanteres"], [member="Faith Organa"], [member="Veiere Arenais"], [member="Lady Kay"], [member="Amelia Sorenn-Syrush"], [member="Bethany Kismet"], [member="Nora Lithos"], [member="Rashae"]

Kay-Larr · May 16, 2017

Kay smirked to [member="Veiere Arenais"] and his little quip about the negotiations being short. He had such a sense of humour that was subtle. It suited him well. She looked to [member="HK-36"] as he assumed that herself and Veiere were leaving even though they hadn't moved from their spot. "We're not planning to leave just yet."

She sipped her tea, watching and listening, though at times her mind drifted to the two parties that left. More information would need to be sought about them. That was all part and parcel to being neutral. You had to treat each side equally despite their actions towards others. Individuals, first impressions, all of that was null and void once more information was gathered.

"Commenor would extend the same offer that we do with all of our allies. The ease of trade, and access to supplies and resources, as well as a pact of non-aggression." The Commenori stay home. That was one of their rules. Their fleet was much smaller than most others and they were needed to protect their territory. It would be far too easy for someone to take advantage of that. Lucky for them that they didn't need to worry about that.

WolfMortum · May 16, 2017

This whole charade may have put the spotlight on a select people by way of derogatory assumptions yet it hadn't deterred neither himself nor Kay from remaining quite comfortable at their seats, Veiere with a glass of wine in his left hand, rotating it a full circle to swish the red liquid about the sides before turning to look to [member="Lady Kay"] and nodding then to the rest of the group in further confirmation of her statement. Had he spoken first, he might have told them more though often too trusting, they needed only hear the facts rather than his habit of sugar coating everything in an effort to sound welcoming.

It wasn't a secret that Commenor sat upon the edge of the Free World Coalitions borders though having secured their own sector now, the Commenori held no interest in further expansion that would see the others put at odds at all. Up until the last few months, Commenor had always been thought of as the one planet of trade made a news item due to its relations with powers and diplomatic reach far larger than its own, yet now they held warden over six other worlds within their sector, the move alone was a massive one and to take on further weight looking outside of their reach would only deter them from financial and political success.

The fleet that Kay had mentioned was an on-going process that he himself had taken an active interest in. Thanks to Companies such as Raxis Mercenaries and Independent Arms, to others like Ashhearth Industries, they were well on their way to building a suitable military force for the sectors law enforcement and general security. That said, the very same efforts had been kept quiet so not to leave the people presuming that the Commenori were one step closer to becoming a military state; their priority and the prime motivation for Kay's coronation as Queen was still to this day the peace and prosperity of a world, now worlds that were once surrounded by those such as the One Sith in the time of the failing Republic. With the frequent wars being fought across the galaxy, the mando'ade and the Galactic Empire starting a fight at a peace conference going the distance to show just how easily conflict could come about; that very priority and the need for protection of the citizens under them were more important than ever.

One simply didn't have the time to go looking for such drama's elsewhere!

Julius Sedaire · May 16, 2017

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0-7IHOXkiV8

He had studied carefully in his long time away. Artfully. Concealing his Force Aura was not hard, but any here would no longer recognize it. Or the face he wore. Bearded, eyes sunken and haunted. There were certain actions, certain paths a man walked down, that changed him irrevocably. As he watched Vilaz act like the sullen, whiny child he had always taken him for, he regretted stepping down from the challenge to claim the mantle. Regretted failing his people, and turning down a different and more desperate path to save them. In the end, what he had feared had come to pass anyway.

Armored his form was, and he possessed only one weapon, an ornamental sword. To most is appeared made of glass, and inside it's sheath it would show not a hint of it's own powers. Indeed, Ijaat wasn't entirely sure what he had made that day in Vur Tepe. Such power had gone into it, and his mind had again slipped in it's making. But still that souless visor turned about, but he couldn't for long keep his gaze from his former friend and apprentice. The one he had tried so hard to pull back from the darkness and madness he had descended into. A life of morals and war for them had been a sham in the end, and he had given in to bloodlust and fear.

As [member="Vilaz Munin"] left, Ijaat took his chance, and strode forward to stand by those of Clan Verd and the other Mando'ade. His visor, a mirrored chrome rather than black, reflected all that would gaze in on him. Emotions twisted in a rapid torrent any healer or Force Sensitive would recoil from. The figure faintly reeked of madness and despair. On Tython, he had sought balance, and found the barest of holds to it. But he had to look within to do that, and the sins he had found staining his spirit had sickened him. But more so was the failure of his actions. Instead of saving, they had hastened exactly what he had feared. [member="Mia Monroe"] had betrayed him, and that was plain. But he had still acted.

The helmet came off first, and was placed hesitantly on the belt hook to hold it in place. Ice blue jaig eyes stared out in challenge, claiming honor where by rights he truly had none, bronze striping glinting in the light as he looked at the form of his dead friend. He had felt the Death in the Force as he had fled Mandalore. It alone had nearly unhinged him. Someone with his powers of sense could not help but feel such. Visions had come of this place, nightmares really. Isley's corpse had been burned into his mind, searing prescience of it laying on this very table as if for a funeral pyre. But no.... Here was the only one, save for perhaps [member="Draco Vereen"], who could have taken him seriously and been of aid to him. That could have made the whole thing end differently. Perhaps better.

Undoing the sword belt, he slid it to Keira, with a nod of his haggard face to Isley, indicating it was for him. Then, a voice scratchy from months of not being used grated out from cracked lips. He looked the worst kind of vagrant, casqued in the armor of a king. A beggar lord daring to rise from the gutter, maybe for the last time. But still, he spoke. This was the place, and this was the time. If any could help, it would be these people. And perhaps, just perhaps, he could help them before they decided his fate. The gaze was directed at [member="Keira Ticon"], not to Isley. His shame was too great yet to face the man on his own, to look him in the eyes. But the words were for him and him alone. Isley would know. He would know.

"I have come to answer for crimes, both of my own person, and of my people. And to surrender myself to the judgement of Clan Verd, specifically Isley. I will offer my neck to that blade, if he wishes it. I have broken every faith, every rule, and perhaps worse doomed us all to be nothing more than a violent footnote in history. But first, take my example over the child who would rule us with a soft wrist and hard words... Show faith to this council, and stay steadfast to who we are. Not to the bravado and swagger, but to the true face under the buc'ye. Do not follow me into my madness... Please...Help me fix what I have wrought..."

In that moment, he opened his mind and his senses to the one he had tutored at his forge, and really any who wished. A beacon of twisted intent and shattered hope, his hands raised and palms turned to the sky. A universal sign of surrender. Any who looked would know what he had done. But they would see [member="Darth Carnifex"] speaking to him. See the evidence of [member="Vilaz Munin"] and his boot-licking to the Sith. And, while not innocent, perhaps they would see his reason why, when they discovered what Mia had done to and told to him. And then his eyes drifted to Isley. Eyes that still bore that same hawk-like gaze, but broken by grief. Saddled with madness. Awash in emotion unreadable. He could only hope that Isley would give to him the chance he had given to the former Sith himself. Redemption. It was his sole purpose and hope now. But even death would be just, if the man chose it.

"Gedet'ye..."

[member="Darth Metus"]

HK-36 · May 16, 2017

[member="Ijaat Mereel"],

The droid just watched as Ijaat revealed himself, the machine still sitting at that council table with others, finally ready to begin the talks of alliance as another interruption occured. Ijaat conducted his display, stripping himself partially as he took off his helmet and undid his belt, HK was glad nothing else followed. He did his speech then, finally finishing with,

"Gedet'ye..."

And the droid looked to his right, then to his left, watching over others gathered around in the chamber before raising his hand,

"I have some questions about what is happening right now."

Laira Darkhold · May 16, 2017

"No."

Draco's voice was soft, almost a whisper at the man who entered the chamber but held the sternness of iron. "You don't get off that easy."

The old Dragon leaned forward, for once his thoughts were not on the future or on his family or on his wife. His thoughts rested deep in one moment in time, a singular spec, an instant that had tolled the death knell for thousands because of the lunacy of one man and one woman. All that said, the lunacy was based in facts Draco had come to believe to be true. Everything Ijaat had said about the Sith corrupting the Mandalorian people and controlling them had been shown to be true ever since the end of Manda'yaim.

However, this was not that hallowed ground. This was some meaningless world to the Mandalorian people, but hallowed by others. To stain it with tainted blood and to corrupt it with darkened powers would not do for Draco, who had a sense of poetic justice. The Mand'alor-in-name had already done enough to this place that had made the Mandalorian people look foolish. Aruetii had no business bearing witness to this justice and something like this deserved to be done somewhere worthy of it.

"You fight in defense of what you did to the death, or I put your soul in a box so it never has any chance of joining the Manda, in case destiny and fate have a taste for Irony." The Dragon grinned, "But, Gar'buir," The Dragon's eyes flicked to Isley now, "Akaan'kalyr, I trust no other than you in this matter of honor. Do it where he killed our home. Gut him there and earn our people some sense of justice or die by his blade and prove him to be just in his actions." Draco had never had a whole lot of faith in the Mando'ade, but Isley he knew. Isley he believed in. If Ijaat wanted redemption he could find it in the Manda. "That is my say on this matter."

Grey pools roiled like a storm, lightning crackling through the back drop of his soul, flashing in little specs through the irises of his eyes. The burning of Mandalore had fractured the people and broken them like the shattering of steel, but it was not he who now turned once pure steel into pig iron. That was another using a puppet.

[member="Ijaat Mereel"] [member="Darth Metus"]

Nora Lithos · May 16, 2017

[member="Nylea Apollodor"] // [member="Hazel Zanteres"] // [member="Bethany Kismet"]

A small brow perked at Hazel. Nylea seemed fine with getting off the ground and straight back to work, but Nora herself wasn’t sure that was the best of ideas. There was a poison inside of Nylea, or had been, or something, Nora still didn’t quite know and the fact that she had been glowing just a few seconds ago was an image that she suspected would be forever engrained upon her brain for years to come. It had been beautiful in the moment, but most of all it had been absolutely terrifying to witness. People didn’t usually glow, at least not in reality. In movies, maybe, but not in real life. There was a dawning realization that Nora lived somewhere in between the two and it started to fall upon her like a cannonball gently rolling off a cliff.

That was to say, it was overwhelming.

Nylea seemed to get up off the ground and began to talk about how she felt. Tired, but able to go on. A hero, yet somehow not a hero. Nora had entered another world by then as her mind tried to wrap itself around how a person could go from poisoned to absolutely fine within the span of a few very short minutes. How the hell did people glow like that? Was she a genetic abnormality? Super-bacta? Ultra-kolto?

What if it was Nora who was the abnormality. She held her hands before her and began flipping them around. It hadn’t been her, had it? Couldn’t have been, she didn’t feel herself do anything.

Unless, she was the abnormality for being the only one who couldn’t-... No, that didn’t make sense.

The peace summit was starting to get back on track again, at which point another contender seemed to step onto the scene. A declaration of guilt, or something, in truth Nora wasn’t listening. She felt shaken to her bones and found herself a seat away from the others to contemplate… Things.

Her life for one.

All that she had ever known for second.

Malok · May 16, 2017

(Forgive me, playing catch up.)

A whirlwind had swept through the negotiations, and his name was Vilaz Munin.

Isley was...a cocktail composed of anger and shame. Although he maintained professional bearing, despite the removal of his King, inside he was an ocean of frustration. As he returned to his long-vacated seat at the table, a single memory played before his mind's eye. He recalled the days of his youth...when he first began walking the Path of a Sith. The then-Emperor, Tyrin Ardik, spoke very low of his people. "Knuckle Draggers" he called them, comparing them to base primates. Animals. Flea-ridden mongrels.

And for the span of ten seconds, Isley couldn't disagree. His King had beat his chest and slung dung all over the negotiations. Now, it was up to he and his kin to pick up the pieces. He drew a breath, stifling his train of thought. He exhaled, centering himself. He parted his lips as if to articulate his sincerest apologies.

But he was interrupted.

Ijaat.

Ijaat.

Isley turned to face the man...his friend...his mentor...the man who had robbed him of everything. Ijaat, the one responsible for returning Isley to the Mandalorian fold, was also his greatest enemy. A betrayal. A backstabber. He...tore him away from his family. He had cause his children to weep many tears. He had caused his wife to be alone. He had caused his siblings to feel lost. Ijaat had killed Isley...and nothing but pure fortune and a thirst for vengeance changed that outcome. And now he was here. Here! Of all places...

Isley was rooted to the spot.

His anger caused trembling breaths. He wanted blood. He had returned for blood. He needed to see the light leave Ijaat's eyes. But...Not here...Not now. [member="Draco Vereen"] spoke and it shook him ever so slightly, as if one had nudged him out of his angry spiral. That precious moment allow Isley to think outside of revenge. He inhaled once more and faced his killer.

"You...I looked up to you. I believed in you. If it weren't for you, I wouldn't be standing right here. If it weren't for you, my Honor would still be chaff on the wind."

"But."

"If it weren't for you, I would not have burned. My family would not have been burned. Our Home would not have been burned. Mark my words, old friend, the thought of...making you pay for the billions you slaughtered was what drove me from death. And now, you will face the judgment of a burned people. This I swear.

He paused, looking away from his mentor. His gaze then swept across those who had gathered for the Summit - those who had witnessed a barbaric glance into Mandalorian society. Isley had to take his own advice...to shelve the wrath that demanded he act similarly to his King. So he did. With palms placed flat upon the marble table, he leaned forward and spoke again.

"We," he began, motioning at his siblings, "have the capacity to set aside our own wrath for the sake of greater good. For that reason, I make a humble request of our hosts. This man...my former mentor Ijaat Mereel...is the hand which set Mandalore ablaze. Countless lives were lost because of his actions. So, I ask that he be held in Lotus custody until the conclusion of these talks, where he will then be taken to face the judgment of Mandalore. This ground has been sullied enough today, I will not stain it further."

He cast a glance to [member="Draco Vereen"] and nodded to his old friend. Justice would be served. Isley then took his seat, silently hoping that the servants of the Light would accept his request and detain the Slayer of Mandalore.

All the while, Isley screamed. Internally.

[member="Bethany Kismet"], [member="Lady Kay"], [member="Draco Vereen"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Nora"] Lothis, @Anyone else I'm missing

Bethany Kismet · May 16, 2017

Breaking down a poison into its base components was not a simple task. While the attention around her stayed on [member="Nylea Apollodor"], and then the arrival of [member="Ijaat Mereel"], Bethany stayed focused on the task at hand. She had always been more gifted with the small details than with great, sweeping powers, but work on this level was never easy, nor should it be.

Slowly, the pulsing bubble of poison started to shift, dull rust red bleeding into the clarity of simple water as she drew the elements that made it dangerous into her other hand. A fine power, the colour of dried blood, coated her palm. Inert. Harmless. Standing up, she slipped through the crowd without a word, the sphere of water shivering in her other hand. Carefully, she tipped it over the roots of the nearest ch'hala tree- the orb quivered for a moment, then melted into the soil. Carefully wiping her palms on the thighs of her leggings, she reached out, fingertips brushing the trunk of the tree. Lavender and cyan rippled from the point of contact, and she smiled softly. Offering a nod, as if some wordless communication had passed between them, she finally turned back.

"Nylea, you need to rest still," she said softly as she reappeared by the girl's side. She offered an appreciative smile to [member="Hazel Zanteres"] and @Rashae. "Your body will still need to recover. If you find yourself in any residual pain, or feeling anything out of the ordinary, please don't hesitate to talk to myself or Hazel, yes?"

Emerald eyes glanced up and around, looking for [member="Nora Lithos"]. She found her at the table, alone and clearly deep in thought. It didn't take a Jedi Master to see that she was pensive and perturbed. But with everything happening right now, it wasn't possible to speak on feelings and thoughts.

Prioritize, move, act.

And for now, Nora would have to wait.

Reaching out to squeeze Nylea's hand for a heartbeat, she stepped away and back toward the larger gathering. She had no idea what [member="Ijaat Mereel"] was talking about. Though the Sacred Lotus had gone and attempted to rebalance Mandalore, the true cause was unknown to the Order. While [member="Vilaz Munin"] had accepted their help, he had not been forthcoming about what he perceived as Mandalorian secrets.

Perhaps if he had been willing to share with the people who had come to help him, they might have been able to do more.

She waited, watching for now as this unfolded. There would be no blood spilt if she could help it here on Monastery's soil. Once again, the tension in the room was high, and she waited to see how [member="Darth Metus"] would handle the situation. She would only step in if asked- or if it devolved once more into violence.

She didn't have long to wait.

"The Order of the Sacred Lotus is not, and will never be, a peace keeping organization," she replied softly, her voice quiet yet reaching as always. "We are here to build peace, but not to force it upon others. However, for the sake of those here, I will agree to this."

She turned those emerald eyes on Ijaat Mereel, Isley's words giving her some better idea of just what had happened. There were, after all, only so many events the Mandalorian could be referencing.

"We have no cells. No dungeon to keep you in. It was never an intention we had."

Glancing at the Journeymen that had flanked her since [member="Michael Sardun"] had appeared, she nodded to both of them. They stepped forward as she did. Looking up at both men, she was thoughtful for a moment.

"Will you accept, peacefully, our custody?"

Will you show more honor, and follow your own promises, than your Mandalore?

While those words were unspoken, the implication hung heavy in the air. He had agreed to the judgement of Isley. And for now, at least, that judgement had been deferred.

"If so, follow me."

Keira Priest · May 16, 2017

At first, Keira didn't recognize the man who had killed her brother. Never before this moment had she laid eyes on [member="Ijaat Mereel"], and so for those first few seconds he was only another face behind a T-visor, and hopefully one that wouldn't be the source of another outburst. But then he removed his helmet and began to speak, and it took every ounce of her self-control not to cleave his head from his shoulders with the very blade that was slid across the table. Her fingers twitched but she did not move, remaining unnaturally still as the murderer spoke, finally answering for his crimes. This was the man who had been the sole cause of the torment the vode had faced, his actions the reason the once proud culture had been brought to their knees and forced to rebuild. All of the pain, suffering and death the destruction of Manda'yaim had wrought was on his shoulders.

At least he was wise enough to surrender himself to death.

Before she could speak [member="Draco Vereen"] first cast his judgement, followed by the man who perhaps had the only true say in the matter. In that moment Isley spoke wiser words than she was presently capable of, requesting that Ijaat be taken into custody so that justice could be carried out later. She took that time to memorize the face of the man who had brought death and ruin down upon her people, committing every detail of his appearance to memory. His was a visage history itself would remember, and as the saying so commonly went, a Mandalorian never forgets. Even after whatever judgement her brother wished to hold was passed, Keira knew she wouldn't forget his face. None of them would, least of all Isley.

Sheer wrath rolled off of her in near-tangible waves, but for all of the violence present in her aura she was strangely calm, doing everything in her power to quell her anger so that the talks may continue, if such a thing was even possible at that point. Almost hesitantly she delved into the Force so that she might meld her presence with Isley's own, the gesture similar to a reassuring grasp on the shoulder, intended to soothe. Still she didn't speak, waiting patiently for the traitor to be led away so that current, pressing business might be handled. Finally her gaze broke forcibly away from Ijaat, and she breathed deep. Vengeance would come later. For now, there would be peace.

[member="Darth Metus"], [member="Bethany Kismet"], [member="Nora Lithos"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Veiere Arenais"], [member="Lady Kay"], [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Faith Organa · May 16, 2017

Faith knew well that the Clans went their own way in how they believed and acted. Faith could only listen her gaze drifted to [member="Draco Vereen"] her riduur as he spoke. She had heard this tone many times over the years of the marriage. Disappointment the tone of his voice said it all and anyone who knew them, knew Draco and [member="Ijaat Mereel"] . They were brothers closest of friends and this news this would mean some sleepless nights ahead as they talked.

Faith wanted to go and place a reassuring hand on her husband's arm but there were times such as this it was best to stand firm. Draco would act as Alor of his Clan speaking and adhere to the laws and traditions. She was proud of him she would be sure to tell him later.

Faith finally began to look at the other faces and movements of those covered in armor [member="Keira Ticon"] [member="Darth Metus"][member="Alkor Centaris"] the things they must be feeling. It was the words of Isley that resonated across the hall. The pain of betrayal the disbelief that it was Ijaat responsible for the tremendous loss of life on Mandalore. Feth.

She looked at [member="HK-36"] who had questions.

Faith slowly sat down, she had stated her position to stay and discuss an alliance. But this must play out first. The Sacred Lotus were to be the guards [member="Bethany Kismet"] [member="Nora Lithos"] even as one of their own healed. [member="Rashae"] was putting her bag back together having done what she could.

The intricate web of connections had a chance to succeed. [member="Lady Kay"] [member="Veiere Arenais"]

WolfMortum · May 16, 2017

Veiere continued to study those around them, seeing now the reason why the Jedi of old had found trouble in dealing with the Mandalorian Clans. As individuals they were a strong people with an apparently long standing value on Honor among their kin, yet between the Clans they couldn't seem to settle for one direction or another. They had come here to discuss in peace negotiations with the fellow governing bodies in the nearby sectors of space around them, yet where one might stand and speak of such a thing, another would only interrupt and seek to start a fight or settle some sort of personal vendetta that held more place back home among their people. The tension among them could be disturbed upon a mere couple words and again, Veiere doubted none that this proposed conference could again sway for hostility.

On the other hand, there was a time not too many years ago where the Mandalorian Clans had been united and stood as one of the greatest powers within the Galaxy, few could challenge them and he could even recall a time when Commenor, smaller than it was today, questioned the possibility of these people coming to tread upon their soil with hostilities their own world had recently seen on Mandalore. This concern left them considerable unbalanced given how vulnerable any such alliance with them could be where their people could turn and change their minds or speak out of place at the drop of a hat and change the opinions of their would-be allies in the simple lack of thought given to how they portrayed themselves.

The former Jedi in Veiere wished to respect them, he knew that his experience with the Mandalorian Clans were lacking to a degree where he had no right to judge them based off of this show alone but the politician that he had recently been forced to become saw only the meeting and how it had transpired thus far, that too many voices were trying to speak for one people and in doing so muddying the water and making it difficult to determine what exactly it might be that their people would want most out of such talks; did they truly want peace between the many factions of government surrounding Mandalore and the rest of their clans or was it only a momentary wish, one that might change in the near future with no real assurances that these possible relationships would last any longer than the presence of the Galactic Empire had before now.

Turning to glance to [member="Lady Kay"], Veiere remained silent yet sought to gauge her feelings surrounding the meeting. The general vibe about the ordeal had discouraged him rather greatly though if there were to be a non-aggression pact between them all, he still hoped that the conference could be salvaged. Turning his gaze back to the table and lifting his glass of wine to his lips, he resigned himself to wait out the show, feeling much like a spectator now. Perhaps they would have been wiser to seek out the Mandalorian without outside influences to distract them from the true purpose of their coming together. Regardless, they were in too deep to leave now and Veiere remained curious to see what would come of it all. If anything.

Julius Sedaire · May 16, 2017

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=o_l4Ab5FRwM

Ijaat nodded to [member="Bethany Kismet"], the tension seeming to go out of him entirely. This was why he had went through with this when he had found out what his nightmarish vision had meant. He trusted the Lotus to keep to impartiality. And he trusted his former ward to have the sense to not fly off the handle in public. Isley had always had the stuff of leadership in him, he just didn't see it himself. Hopefully the man would take his vengeance and move forward and make something of himself. Take up the destiny he seemed to so desperately crave and yet flee from every time it was within his grasp.

His eyes didn't leave [member="Darth Metus"] for a lingering moment, but they did meet the storm of [member="Draco Vereen"] and his gaze in time. He shook his head slightly, a sad and wistful smile on his lips in that moment. What might have been, had he not broken. Had Monroe not twisted his fear and already wounded mind. These three men alone, himself and Isley and Draco, represented three of the most deadly warriors that the Mandalorian culture had made in recent decades. But they all bore their scars and flaws. Ijaat had just broken to his, whilst the other two seemed to be rising above.

"You mistake me, old friend. I don't want to escape death. The price is known, and welcomed. I know my guilt. I know my actions. I would never dispute them. If you wish me to fight, I will fight. But there is no defending what I did, or who I am. I only beseech others to not let what I triggered consume them. That is all. To not follow me into my madness, and stand to what we were meant to stand..."

Here he gestured futilely to the table.

"This is good here... We are more than knuckle-dragging savages defined only by weapons and armor. Keep them to this when I am gone. And remember me as I was before it all... There will be others, and maybe my fall can ward their undoing. You'll find no more trouble from me. I am only here to settle my ledger before it is closed..."

Having said his final piece, he turned and nodded to Bethany in consent, ready to go wherever was needed. For a split second, even in the new body, the words had stirred an old pride. A shadow of the man that had once been, and taught these men at the forge and in war. A flicker of the flame he had carried in his eyes showed. But it was replaced as his shoulder sagged when the scratchy voice ended. Here was a man who had fought monsters for too long, and in so doing, became one himself. But the difference between fable and fact for the Slayer of Mandalore was he had come to realize the blood on his hands. And had accepted he was a mad dog in need of putting down.

Alkor Centaris · May 17, 2017

Alkor sighed softly.

The man spoke his peace and revealed a broken spirit, ravaged by the horrors and atrocities he had committed. The Dark Jedi wondered for a moment, if things had been different and circumstances had not twisted him into the murderer he was, would he look at himself in disgust?

No.

He was many things- a killer, a destroyer, a man who stole fathers from their children- but remorseful? The times and tragedies that shaped his life had left him without those sentiments. Such thoughts were pointless, and they stripped a man of his convictions. Everything [member="Ijaat Mereel"] once believed in, in the span of one horrendous act- he forsook. That was his decision. To look back on it now, baleful and filled with regret, flew in the face of men who stood strong against the tides that tried to break them.

Further conversation here would only serve to muddy the waters that the Mandalorians already stood in. [member="Keira Ticon"] burned hot with a rage that ran parallel to what Vilaz had displayed only moments before. Isley stood strong, but how long that would that last if this man continued to bleat like a broken sheep? When wolves smelled blood, their instinct was to swarm and feed. The sacrifice had to be removed. "No one remembers the good you've done," he spoke in a low voice to the man who murdered Manda'yaim and thousands of his former brothers and sisters, "after you've done them wrong."

He stood there, staring in the opposite direction and away from everyone else. Alkor stood next to Ijaat, so that only that man would hear his voice. The words of two men who's souls were blacker than the pit of hell were not meant for the ears of others. "You had a family," he said, "you had brothers and sisters. People loved you. You bled for them, they bled for you." The others stared, and Alkor could feel their gaze hot on his back. He did not care. "You had all of those things, and yet, you made your decision."

Alkor smiled a bit, though the expression was somber. Dark. Cold. "I am still coming to understand these things. Friends, and family, love, kindness- I do not fully grasp what it is that you threw away. I have hated many men, and so I understand what it means to destroy. I made the decision to destroy, and I am resigned to its consequences." His eyes closed, and he leaned closer for a moment. "What we are is what we are. Broken, empty, and pathetic. There is no path back to what you were. You have burned that bridge."

He placed a hand on Ijaat's shoulder and locked eyes with the man. "Walk forward, now," he said, "even if it takes you into hell."

"Please take him," he asked [member="Bethany Kismet"] .

[member="Darth Metus"], [member="Draco Vereen"]

Kay-Larr · May 17, 2017

Kay looked to [member="Veiere Arenais"] as he turned his head twards her. He was quiet, yet so was she. Her words that were spoken mere moments before to all that had gathered here had fallen upon deaf ears. Perhaps it was because Commenor was too small to have a voice, or perhaps they were the wrong race. She gave her husband-to-be a light shrug of her shoulders, as if to tell him that she didn't know how things were going to progress, if at all. She sipped her tea and wondered if individual meetings with the various governments was the best course of action to take. It had worked for Commenor so far. There was no need to change a system that wasn't broken.

She furrowed her brows as she watched another dispute take place among what seemed to be the most dysfunctional family ever. Her memories weren't all there when it came to her past interactions with the Mandalorians. Instead she had broken pieces of past events, most of it not very pleasant. As all of her good memories were stripped from her mind by her captor, she had wondered if there were any good memories of these people that she had at all? That was something that she'd have to ask Veiere later.

Kay leaned over to Veiere a bit and whispered to him, "I don't think that they heard me. But regardless, it sure is an eye opener as to why many parts of the Galaxy are in the state that they are in." She had another sip of her tea, nearly two thirds through her cup by now. This had to be one of the strangest trade talks that she had ever witnessed.

Hazel Zanteres · May 17, 2017

Hazel gave [member="Nylea Apollodor"] a smile, a combination of comfort and concern. She didn't want the Echani to be on her feet if she was fatigued from the ordeal she had just gone through, but it was ultimately her decision if she wanted to press on. "Just don't stress yourself Nylea, if you feel like you can't continue please let me know, and we'll get you to the medical wing." With a quick squeeze of the Echani's shoulder, Hazel was up on her feet and moved over to [member="Nora Lithos"].

She had caught sight of that look in the young Arkanian's eyes. Something Hazel had seen in others over the years, even in herself. Spending the first nineteen to twenty years without really being around the Force, then suddenly being trained to heal by the Jedi was certainly a jarring experience. So, the Hapan walked up to Nora crouched down before where she was seated.

"If you need someone to talk to, come find me. Whenever. My doors will always be open if you need it." She gave Nora a warm smile. After the younger woman's response, Hazel reached into her coat and pulled out the datapad and stylus the Arkanian had stuffed into her hands prior. "Here, maybe getting down your thoughts might help." And again, as a comforting gesture Hazel placed her hand on Nora's shoulder, giving it caring rub.

With that, Hazel stood back up and turned her attention to the rest of the room. She watched the fallout with [member="Ijaat Mereel"]'s appearance and admission. Though thankfully, it was resolved quickly and with a lack of violence. But it occured to the Hapan, that with [member="Bethany Kismet"] now occupied with taking Ijaat away, it left Hazel to have to sit in her place until the Jedi Master could return to the courtyard. She'd just have to inform her that she had accepted the Council offer later.

Hazel took a deep breath, walking back over to the table, to were the Sacred Lotus delegation were suppose to sit. Her eyes fell across everyone that remained, to those that were at the table itself or had previously spoken but had gone unheard. Specifically [member="Darth Metus"], [member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Amelia Sorenn-Syrush"], [member="Veiere Arenais"] and [member="Lady Kay"].

"I offer a sincere apology to you all. I'm certainly this wasn't what anyone here was expecting or wished to happen. But, with that mess now out of the way, shall we got down the reason you all came here for?" Hazel took her seat at the table, letting out a small chuckle as a thought occured to her. "Probably first and foremost, given we barely had the time to actually do it; let's begin with introductions. I am Hazel Zanteres, a Doctor and Healer of the Sacred Lotus and one of its Elders."

Keira Priest · May 17, 2017

When Ijaat was finally led away Keira visibly relaxed, the tension slowly bleeding from her and her anger dwindling similar to a fire being gradually smothered. There was still a long moment before she found it in herself to so much as formulate anything coherent, It took a few deep breaths before she was in any state to speak, and when finally her wits returned wholly about her she looked first to her brothers and then to the rest of those that remained, offering nothing more than a mostly neutral, impassive gaze. The sword was removed from the tabletop, and she merely set it on the ground. Both the weapon and its owner were better forgotten at this moment so that she and those that had accompanied her could think more clearly.

"Thank you." She nodded in the direction of [member="Hazel Zanteres"] as she made the final peace and began the talks properly, as had been the intention since the beginning. "My name is Keira Ticon of the Mando'ade, Alor'ad of House Verd. Formerly in attendance was Mand'alor Vilaz Munin, and with me presently are Alkor Centaris and Isley Verd, both of House Verd as well." As she spoke she gestured to [member="Alkor Centaris"] and [member="Darth Metus"] respectively, taking charge of the talks on behalf of her people as if it was the most natural thing for her to be doing. "Once again I would like to extend a thanks to our hosts, and their continued patience with the ordeal this meeting has become."

[member="Lady Kay"], [member="Veiere Arenais"], [member="Faith Organa"], [member="Bethany Kismet"], [member="Nora Lithos"], [member="Draco Vereen"], [member="Ijaat Mereel"], [member="HK-36"]

Amelia von Sorenn · May 18, 2017

Giving a silent nod to Faith, the woman bowed her head for a moment though remained at the side of the Queen. Slowly her golden hues moved over those that remained in the room. For the most part it seemed that those that remained had wanted peace rather than to throw their egos around. Taking a step back, her golden hues remained upon the others before she returned to her place at the back of the room. Leaning up against the wall, she would prefer to stand for much of the proceedings should her actions be required once more.

For the most part though she figured that no one else would attack the others and cooler heads appeared to remain. Giving a near silent scoff at the spectacle she had just witnessed, her own views of the Mandalorians seemed to suffer from the actions of one. Of course the same could be said of those claiming to be the Galactic Empire, and for one whom had seen Palpatine's empire rise and fall she thought even less of those that called for the might of the Imperials to spread across the galaxy.

Closing her eyes, she began to compose herself, taking a shallow breath before permitting it to draw across her lips. Though her eyes would remain close for in that moment she decided it was best to listen and not watch. Her arms slowly crossed over her breast, as she pressed her back to the wall. She would leave the talking and peace to others, or rather at least those that desired such things.

Malok · May 18, 2017

At long last, the time had come for the talks to begin; and thus did the Mandalorian settle into his seat. He looked upon the Healer who had spoken first and rendered a polite nod. His lips then parted to respond to her introduction, but [member="Keira Ticon"] took the lead.

His lips twitched, forming a brief smirk.

It just went to show the resilience of his clan. When he was taken, the void was swiftly filled by capable hands. In this instance, his sister had stepped up to become the voice of, not only the Verd, but their people. And, for once, Isley could sit back and enjoy the perks of being "Gogi." That is, letting the younger generation handle things.

"Well met, [member="Hazel Zanteres"]. It is a pleasure to meet you."

He then looked across the table and met the gaze of [member="Draco Vereen"]. "And it's especially good to see you, old friend."

[member="Keira Ticon"], [member="Alkor Centaris"], [member="Bethany Kismet"], [member="Ijaat Mereel"], [member="HK-36"], [member="Lady Kay"], @errbody

Nora Lithos · May 18, 2017

She had lost contact with the outside world for a moment. Nora felt her eyes stare themselves blind on the floor while a deafening silence started to batter against her ears. In her mind there was a single thought running across her mind in a loop that never seemed to come to an end. As was the nature of loops. It was like chasing after a train that only got further and further away from you the faster you ran. She wanted to find the rights spot to store this new information, the right spot to allocate, but for someone who had grown up in a somewhat sheltered home with absolutely no previous experience with the force it was hard to even comprehend how such a thing was possible. Was it in the air around them? Was it something in the ways they moved or talked?

Nora twitched with a slight gasp as a soft hand placed itself on her shoulder. It was Hazel again, she said something and the Arkanian had to physically shake herself out of her frozen, immovable state before any of it would even make sense. She caught it halfway through with the offer to talk to the Doctor at a later point. Her belongings were also handed to her. She grabbed them and put them straight into her pockets. Her hands would remain pocketed within the warm embrace of her coat. She smiled though, a very brief smile for as long as Hazel would remain within view, and when she wasn’t within view anymore Nora would go back to staring at the ground again.

She had just seen a person glow.

People didn’t glow.

People never did.

Her head slowly began to shook as she felt her legs bring her up on her feet and slowly shuffle in a subconscious manner towards the exit. This place wasn’t for her anymore, not for the rest of the day at least. She needed some time for herself.

To think.

To call her parents.

The feeling dawned upon her how much she missed them and she couldn’t really help but sigh as she began her approach for the door. She was gone for the day, the whole week. It was a lot to take in.

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