Twin Empires

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For all intents and purposes, the homeworld was on lockdown. Travel was heavily restricted to the various ports hanging above Zenith Prime's orbit, and anyone without a trader's pass was generally shown to the door. The all-too-recent conflict with the Geonosian Hive Fleet had Zenithians on high alert. The Imperium was a galvanized force, but it was still a terribly fragile thing. It needed to be safeguarded until it grew to be fit and strong enough to stride across the stars.

Thus, Alexander had found himself overseeing fleet operations. The Zenithian fleet was a veteran force and could surely hold its own without the presence of the Imperator, but he felt his presence was needed. The warships were being rebuilt; casualties were tallied and costs were estimated. The navy had not been present for the great rally on the world below. They needed to know the War Council appreciated their service as much as they did the ground-pounders.

Alexander had arrived on the central defense station shortly after the rally. With him came a retinue of friends and allies: men and women who had become heroes in the eyes of the common folk. They traveled across the defense emplacements to the wounded capital ships rallying those who had kept the void in Zenithian hands. It was by chance that Alex found himself on the bridge of one of the defense stations when a ship of unknown origin arrived in the system on an approach vector.

"A bit early for visitors," he mumbled, his gaze shifting to [member="Strask Ak'lya"] for a moment. "All of our traders are on scheduled routes. This one's a rogue."

Shaking his head, Alex strode over to the flight director's chair and tapped the Bothan seated there on the shoulder. "That ship on the sensors -- who is it?"

"Working on that now, lord." The Bothan quipped. Alex furrowed his brow in distaste at the honorific. It smacked of arrogance.

"Unknown vessel," the Bothan's voice would transmit to the 'ghost' ship. "You are trespassing in the territory of the Zenithian Imperium. Quiet your engines and identify yourselves. Failure to comply will be met with appropriate force."

Alex drew in a deep breath as he awaited a reply. This was an anomaly in the otherwise routine operations that had fallen over Zenith Prime in the past month. They could not afford a wrench in the plan, no matter how small that wrench might be.

[member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Ak'lya]

It had turned from one of the longest days in Strask's life to one of the longest weeks. He hadn't gotten a full night's sleep in weeks. between coordinating with Bothuwai for meetings about the Imperium and the Geonosian brainwashed, he had had his hands full. Something else on top of all that was that last thing he wanted.

On the plus side, it would break up the monotony.

"Maybe a smuggler or a mercenary, sir." He commented to Alexander. He smiled at the look one of the Bothans gave him. Bowing had never really been in his nature. "Although..." he squinted at it, seeming to study it for a minute. "It's not any class of ship I recognise. May be a new model." Or I could be out of practice, he added silently. Either way, he wasn't sure what to expect.

Pulling his armes behind him, he clasped his wrist with his good hand. He needed a better prosthetic hand soon.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"] [member="Isley Verd"]

 

[Ithiel Vi'Dreya]

Aboard the Par-Aliit
A Hapan Battle Dragon, class frigate.

Ithiel Verd, Isley’s son had been sent to negotiate with the new power rising in the south. A gesture of faith and respect for any negotiation. The crusader was young, but educated in the ways of his people for a great many years, and this was his chance to show his father he was able to handle his affairs when called.

When called. The definition of a Mandalorian Crusader's view on life. Something not entirely different to what he understood of who he was about to speak to.

Sat on the bridge of the Hapan Battle Dragon. Ithiel gave the signal to power down the engines, and keep weapons off. All that was up was shields, maintaining the distance as asked. The crusader signaled to open a channel.

“Par-Aliit of the Mandalorian Empire”, which simply put in Mandalorian meant <<for-family>>, in this case the name of the vessel. The frigate a gift to his son, supplied by a friend, “greeting you, the rising power in the south with open hand.” Ithiel was intelligent enough to pay respect, and adapting to this as he went, young but considerate in his wording. He respected mutual strength. A Mandalorian who could negotiate in the making? Possibly.

“To offer trade of materials, and to discuss treaty. If you are willing to hear it.”

Simple offer, plainly put. Ithiel awaited the response. Not nervous, but keen to see how he’d handled first contact. The crusader crew around him appraising him as he spoke, to see what they thought of this young vod in command of a thousand man frigate, not an insignificant thing to ask even a crusader to trust in. The first thing he'd need to win over, was the respect of his own men. He had the name, did he have the genes?

[member="Strask Ak'lya"] | [member="Alexander Ontonas"]​

 

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"Do not call me sir. You are my elder in all but title, Strask."

The Imperator flashed the Bothan a pleased little smile and turned toward the comm station as a voice spoke. His lips pressed into a thin line; his patrician features darkening somewhat as the Mandalorian made his purpose clear.

Their new empire, eh?

A low rumbling laugh shook Alexander. He clapped a plate-bound hand on Strask's shoulder and pointed at the distant dot that was the Par-Aliit. For all his play at assuming the role of a gruff commander, Alexander could not hide his giddiness. It was almost childish, as if he had been hoping for the Mandalorians to make their way here from the birth of the Imperium.

A moment later, and his mirth was replaced with grim purpose, his expression one of stone.

"I was wondering when your kind would come to greet us," Alexander replied through comm system, "Expected it, you might say. I am aboard ODS-C. The station is far too large for you to miss. We will meet in person."

"I will await you, Mandalorian."

He did not wait for a reply. The Imperator left the young man at the comm station to deal with any further words and turned to Strask. "My grandfather told me much of the Verds. Now, they have built their own little empire -- a cult of personality in the far reaches of the north."

The giddiness found its way into his words once again. "We'll meet this diplomat in the primary hanger. I look forward to seeing what sort of sycophants this new Mandalore keeps at his side."

[member="Ithiel Verd"], [member="Strask Ak'lya"]

 

[Ithiel Vi'Dreya]

“Vode to me.” Two Crusaders would accompany him, and the diplomacy class shuttle. Aboard Ithiel dressed in green armor which signified duty, but his face clearly on show to hide no intent during negotiation. Yet his black goggles as always covered the eyes, sensitive to light as they were. The pilot signalling he was ready to dock as readied to enter the cargobay, assuming he was given the confirmation they landed aboard.

The ramp came down and the three vode walked out as one. Confident strides to bring them to face whoever stood before them.

Ithiel was armed with a blaster and a power knife, his vode the same, with blade and pistol. Show of suitable strength, but not overkill. Hands were as weapons to a mandalorian, yet he gauged intelligently. The Imperium, like the Mandalorians did not want to see weakness in those they chose to deal with.

Coming to a stop, he addressed whoever looked to be in charge. “Ithiel of Clan Verd, son of the Mand'alor” Name and clan stated plain, respect and strength in his stance. Who he was son of mattered not, deeds mattered, yet it might show the faith they had placed in these negotiations to send him.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"] | [member="Strask Ak'lya"]​

 

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The old Bothan had gone quiet. That was all well and good for Alexander -- he needed to focus. The Imperator clipped his helmet to the ring of his chest-plate and strode down to the primary hanger.

Imperial soldiers lined the walls and stood at intervals throughout the massive room. They were clad in the simple but effective fatigues provided by the Imperium's Technocracy and hefted Tribune-Pattern bolter rifles. The shells the weapons fired could tear through many inches of durasteel before the charges within them exploded. Every man here was kitted to deal with enemy infantry as well as armor.

The Imperator could not hide his prideful smile as one of the lieutenants called the men to attention. Alex waved them down. "As you were." The soldiers all relaxed somewhat, though Alex could sense their tension.

Every man on Zenith Prime knew of the Verds' treachery in the past. It was carried as a warning to those that would dabble in the sorcerous powers -- an ill story to teach the children and further inflame the Imperium's distrust of those who lived in a half-life within the ethereal realm.

That worry did not keep the Imperium from speaking to the Mandalorian Empire's emissary. If anything, the two powers were equals of a sort, though each drew their doctrines from opposite extremes.

"So he's gone and claimed the title now, has he? My grandfather must be rolling in his grave if he's even met it yet." The Imperator boomed, a hint of laughter lacing his words as he strode up to the Mandalorians. Clad in his power armor, the living embodiment of the Imperial Purpose was well over eight feet in height. He settled a hand on the pommel of Worldbreaker and smiled.

"I am Alexander Ontonas, and I was the one chosen by my people to lead the Imperium in these dark times." His lips pressed into a thin line. "You are a brave sort, son of Verd. Few on Zenith Prime have forgotten how your father dabbled in the dark arts and allowed Sith Lords to take seats of power over our people." He bowed his head somewhat. "For that bravery, I will hear out whatever it is you wish to say."

[member="Strask Ak'lya"], [member="Ithiel Verd"]

 

[Ithiel Vi'Dreya]

At 6ft 4 Ithiel was no small young man to most, looking up a foot even so, the others with him more or less the same raising their heads. Clan was usually as important to a Mandalorian as blood ties, clan honor even more so. For Ithiel personally he couldn’t help but feel pride at mention of his father taking the title, that struck a chord in his heart. There had been uproar, and challenge, who would have expected less. That pride to stand was what drove him.

Nodding, meeting the gesture in the same way. Mutual respect. Grounds to start. “You honor us. Me.” He said in no uncertain terms. Waiting till that personal gesture had clear moment.

“We come to offer Phrik for Agrocite.” A good offer to begin, amounts could be discussed. “And treaty of non aggression between our empires.” Did Mandalorian crusaders believe in non aggression? They sort conflict for certain, but when they made treaties, they honored them, belief didn’t come into it.

The sheer distance between the two groups made no sense to offer less. Standing their looking up at the giant, Ithiel listened, considerate in his words and gestures, his mother's sense of intelligence, his father's bearing, and teaching.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"]​

 

[Ak'lya]

Strask had simply studied the ship. He wasn't sure, but it was starting to look like an old Lurehulk. Has Isley looted ships from the dying Techno Union? That would be unfortunate, as it meant they couldn't do the same. He'd have to see if Heofon would be able to supply them with the ships they needed. That made things a lot more difficult.

He simply moved to listen to Alexander's conversation. Isley's got more brats now. How many does that make? He had always wondered how many Verds there were. They were growing.

He sank into a chair, watching a video feed of the meeting. Alex was being his usual overbearing self..... wait.

Who was Alexander's grandfather?

He knew the man had been a dreadguard, but having a father.... It would have had to been a dreadguard. And they would have to be old. Very old. Galaar? No, he wouldn't fit the bill. That left one man.

The old Bothan stood from the chair with a start.

Alexander Ontonas was a Tal'verda.

[member="Alexander Ontonas"] [member="Ithiel Verd"]

 

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Within, Alexander had been thunderous. There were old grudges to be had -- a thirst for blood that needed to be slaked. That storm had calmed somewhat at Ithiel's words. This lad had some of the tact his father lacked. Alex even found himself smiling, though it was a weak little thing.

"We're open to trade. We've more Agracite than we know what to do with, to be truthful." He agreed, bowing his head somewhat. "We'll take whatever phrik you have to offer and send you home with a cargo hold full." There was a pause to his words, a 'but' that was left unsaid. The Imperator considered his words for a moment.

"I can make no promises on a treaty. Battle lines are being drawn, my friend. I am not so sure we will stand on the same side." His hand fell from the pommel of his sword. "However, I can promise that we have no intention of going for your throats. If the Mandalorian Empire decides to work against our various causes and constituents, we will retaliate with appropriate force. We will not, however, commit to open war with your kind or invade your worlds."

He paused. "Your people are warriors. My soldiers will wish to test themselves against your mettle. I know you understand, but we will have no war between us. Is that agreeable?"

[member="Strask Ak'lya"], [member="Ithiel Verd"]

 

[Ithiel Vi'Dreya]

Ithiel knew not much of their fleet or their makeup, assigned personal ship as his own reward for following the Mandalore. There were warclouds over the horizon. Crusaders lived for the chance to gain honor through combat and fight with the clan, it was as natural as breathing to many of them, even if this one had a considerate way about him. That was his core, and he could respect their wish to not limit themselves.

“It is. No Mandalorian Empire boots will touch down upon your claimed worlds, and yours will not touch our claimed soil. If we meet in battles elsewhere to come, I will honor the opportunity. " Against a warrior the size and command of Alexander, that would be some fight to have to his name for the young Vod! "Worlds we are taking dominion over, not invasion, should be included.” He spoke clearly to make sure they were of clear terms. Others might put a huge document out for them to sign, Ithiel merely extended his arm for a wrist shake if taken.

For the Phrik, the young crusader openly and audibly signaled for another ship to come to dock, “with your agreement.” Another shuttle or two would come in with the phrik they had brought with them.

[member="Strask Ak'lya"] | [member="Alexander Ontonas"]​