When Words Are Needed (Galaar/Salem)

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

To put it bluntly, Galaar was about to break all the governmental laws that held the Concord together. He had recently had a meeting with a Templar, who had explained a bounty that he had no idea was placed. After a stressful, emotionally breaking couple of days he decided in his stupor that he would in a sense take matters into his hands for the safety of those around him, for the safety of his friends, his flotilla, and his brother.

To this end he had evacuated his ship's bridge in order to have a private congress with the Lord Commander of the Templars himself. Galaar knew about the Templar code, he thought they the best bet in order to save the Concord if he were going to open negotiations. And that is what he did, entering the ID for the Holo-Node in one, [member="Salem Norongachi"] 's office.

He would stand, in his full armor in front of the desk. Salem would recieve a message from a CIS Military node, once that was wanted, yet one that was still there.

"Open up, Lord Commander, we need to talk."

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The Hand of Fate drifted lazily just outside the ring of asteroids that surrounded the planet of Roon. Occasionally a turret would come to life and send a bolt of energy toward an errant asteroid or meteor that the ships on-board computer had deemed a threat, otherwise the ancient Imperial-I Star Destroyer remained motionless.

Inside the dark hull of the vessel only one life form could be found. Sitting in his office just off the ships bridge Salem Norongachi was hard at work. A drink rested upon the dark synthwood table top all the while the monitor set into the desk scrolled page after page of green text. Reports, requisitions, troop movement, intelligence reports. All of those things that the Lord Commander needed to know were beamed to the ship and sorted by the every present persona of the BTR Super Computer that ran the ship with a cold efficiency.

"Lord Commander," Came the feminine voice of Emah as she materialized in the blueish hue of holographic projectors set in the ceilling of the room. Norongachi looked up, he looked haggard she noted. By her account he hadn't slept in three days. The strain was showing on the old man. "You have an incoming message. Galaar Tal'Verda. Priority channel. Real time holo."

"Punch it through." Was her masters response, afterwhich Emahs avatar would disengage and the projector would switch to the incoming feed. Norongachi picked up his glass and took a mouthful of whiskey while the projector cast the image of a Mandalorian in full battle gear.

"I don't often get calls so late from traitors Mr Tal'Verda." Salem responded, setting his glass aside and standing, one hand slipping into his dark suit trouser pocket. "I assume this isn't a sanctioned communication by Liberty Concord, otherwise you'd be dealing with some politician or diplomat. Which begs the question; What can I do for you?" He finished with a half smile. He was a curious man, what could he say.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

Galaar looked into the holo-table and grinned under his helmet. Very few things had gone right for this particular clone, whereas this had gone correctly. He had been beamed directly to the man he wanted to be. He paced back and forth for a second, his mind searching and groping for the right way to put this which it failed, rather badly to do.

"Well. It seems you know I'm no politican then. I'm a soldier, and I'll be frank about this, I recently saw a holo-listing of a bounty on my own and my associates heads. I would like to remedy that and believe you, as the Lord Commander, can, in the least help me."

He stopped pacing and moved forward, tension was coiled in his chest like a spring ready to lunge from it. This was, indeed, a precarious situation. If Salem wanted to he could end the call at any moment and effectively ruin the work Galaar was already going through. He leaned his hands on the desk and peered forward so that only his chest and head appeared in the blue holographic image that fuzzed on Salem's end.

"I am here to negotiate on the end of the Liberty Concord without direct consent. I'm offering to meet in neutral space and hand over the stolen corvettes for one unarmed civilian frigate and two-hundred tons of basic living materials such as food and low-income medical supplies. We're not a revolution and a good majority of this flotilla has become refugees since we left. We've only held onto the ships for this long because we needed the living space, sir."

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The Lord Commanders green eyes flicked over the imperceivable helm that adorned Tal'Verda as he spoke. Norongachi's dark brows rose then and he reached for his glass as Galaars image tightened to his helm and upper torso. The liquid burned its way down his throat while the Mandalorian finished his offer.

Salem said nothing at first, gazing out of the leftmost window that showed the distant planet of Roon, shielded by the broken remnants of long forgotten worlds. Another slug from his glass finished off its contents, it was only then he turned to address Galaar again.

"Unfortunate, that business," He began, placing the glass back atop the table. "But the powers that be do as they will. Its above my pay grade and frankly, out with my own concerns. If you had any records from before the Plague, you'd soon find a laundry list of my crimes. Some not so dissimilar to your own." But done for far less noble reasons. "I can certainly work as liaison. Relay this deal to those that have the power to accept it. I cannot guarantee they will be true to their word. You may show up with your end upheld to find a fleet arrayed against you." His face lost all expression then and a cold matter-of-fact tone fell over his voice. "And I may be among them. If that is what they ask of me." The clone would never know that a small pang of guilt blossomed in his gut as he spoke.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

"Then let me make you a hero," Galaar stated. His heart dropped, he didn't want to do this but he had to. He needed to. They need me to. He though to himself, frankly, at this point and time the clone felt as if he had nothing to live for and that if had to become a martyr and surrender himself unto the CIS to show them they committed no crimes worth such a punishment he would do so. Galaar still trusted the CIS.

"The people of the Confederacy want justice? You and I'll give it to them. I will surrender myself, the key conspirator to the desertion into Templar , not CIS national, custody. You will deliver said materials, in turn for my bounty. The money I earned and will let my ship and crew go free. In turn, you will be one the who captured the snake Galaar Tal'Verda, the man who managed to turn Calico against the CIS. I will take full responsibility for the Concord's actions and will face justice at the hands of the Templars. You'll be heroes, men who could do what the viceroyality could not, the true paragons of the people!"

With his seemingly passionate offer concluding, he looked at Salem. "What say you, Lord Commander? Surely this is worth the Executive Council's time."

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

"A hero?" Norongachi thought, scoffing at the very notion. He'd been many things but his time as a Hero was so overshadowed as a villain that it was hard to associate it with himself again. No, he wouldn't be the hero. He'd do what he had always done, play the cards that the universe dealt him and work it to his advantage.

"And what of the ships Mr Tal'verda?" He asked, looking into the soulless visor of the clone. "Return them to us, place yourself in my personal custody. Show them you aren't some splinter faction working against the CIS. Do that and I'll see to it your demands are met. No harm will come to you while you are under my care and an unarmed transport with the goods you require will be with me when we meet. Make no mistake, there are those within the CIS who have taken your leaving very personally, return the ships. Play the martyr. It will go a long way to appease that sense of betrayal against those you protect." The game was his to lose now.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

"I accept these terms. I will arrive at the Zolan system with the corvettes in question by the end of next rotation." Galaar took a deep breathe and gave a deep sigh, hidden inside the helmet before he removed it to reveal his scared face (the spitting image of that but with a trimmed goatee). At the current moment, his best teams were already being deployed to capture the corvettes in mention and anyone who didn't want to come was being give a chance to leave.

"I have to thank you for this. Ori'vor'e." He spoke in Mandalorian before looking back into the holo-call. This what he was bred to do, this was his place in Fox Squad. He had always been there to protect his big brother and not the other way around.

"Is that all?"

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

"Thats all Galaar." Salem responded with a solemn nod. "I'll be at the Zolan system. I..." His words faltered then, as though he struggled to say them. "I don't speak your tongue but know this; Even if you go down in the annuls of history as a traitor, one man will think you a hero." With that said the connection fizzled out and Emah came back to him then.

"We have work to do." He said to her with steely resolve.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

--------------2 Days later

The Zolan system was the home of the Clawdites and like said, Galaar's small fleet would arrive. The Ardent Class Fast Frigate and the several stealth corvettes. The fleet would pause, both weapons and shields shut down. Galaar was in one of the corvettes without his armor and in nothing but his armorweave suit that went under the armor. The moment of truth was slowly arriving, he was in all reality, hoping that the Lord Commander would uphold his deal and that Calico, his dearest brother, would refrain from any unneeded violent acts in an attempt to rescue him when he did not need rescuing.

"Jebs. As soon as you receive the frigate, place a crew back on it and take it back to the Concord. Delivery the message I said to Ca'ika, you're in command." The Ardent-Class was not a stolen CIS ship, it was essentially, only presence to take the frigate loaded with food and medical supplies.

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The corridor of hyperspace spat the Hand of Fate and the small GR-75 transport out into the Zolan system like bad tasting food. The mighty Star Destroyer dwarfed the other ship as they slipped, side by side, toward the awaiting Concord ships. Norongachi sat upon the bridge of his Flagship, eyeing the corvettes and frigate as they closed the distance.

"Keep our weapons and shields powered down for now. If they twitch, blow em to hell. Until then, hail Galaar." He said while Emah sent his orders to the transports crew, naval grunts he had requisitioned for the task. They would be the ones taking the offered corvettes back with him to CIS space and whatever fate awaited them at the hands of his superiors.

"Mr Tal'Verda," He began. "This is the Hand of Fate, Lord Commander Norongachi speaking. Shall we get this show under way?" They were close now, the ships coming to a stop at spitting distance -in terms of capital ship weapons range- from each other.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

Galaar accepted the hail rather curtly and smiled, thank goodness, everything was going according to plan. It seemed that they both would uphold their promises, then again, they were both soldiers. "Aye, Lord Commander, I'm ready. Live when ready, lets make the masses swoon like this is some sort of trashy Holo-set." It was a joke, albeit, a rather bad one but a joke none the less.

The Corvettes would crouch forward to accept boarding parties and the switch over of crew's from Galaar's men to whatever Salem was providing. All of the men manning the ship also unarmed as well, just like the clone commando himself. Galaar wanted to do his best to prove that the Concord was not some militant terrorist sect that they were but were indeed a pacifistic flotilla wanting nothing more than peace and freedom.

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

"I always thought I could be a holostar," Norongachi smiled and then added. "If I weren't so bloody minded." While this repartee went on the transport was sending forth smaller personal ships that would dock with the corvettes then, when the deed was done and he had confirmed that all ships were ready to get under way the transport moved along side the Frigate and awaited docking. The crew therein taking a final transport back to the Fate.

"Its time Galaar," He said his tone as serious as the situation demanded. "I will allow you to come over on your own steam. You deserve that much at least. I'll await you in the port landing bay." A strange amount of trust to place in someone you have only just met, thought Sal as he stepped from the bridge toward the tubrolift. He couldn't explain it, perhaps it was the Force or pure instinct that told him Galaar Tal'Verda was one of the last honourable men in a Galaxy full of scum.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

As Salem said its time, he felt as if he were walking into his death. The death he had been bred for since the day of his creation; fear boiled in the back of his throat and he had thoughts rather similar to the man he was meeting with not that he knew it. However, Galaar was taught not to be hindered by fear but to be propelled by and through that fear and his own honor-bound commitments. He took Salem's offer and came aboard The Hand of Fate.

He would arrive in a small ship that was attached to the corvette, all alone and entirely unarmed. The Thundering Spire was already preparing its jump back to the flotilla with the other frigate that Salem had so graciously provided. Galaar, was far more distinct in person that over the vid, he was in all essence a man sculpted for war from his stride to the exact specifications of his body size. The only thing that made him, well, himself was the nasty claw scar across his face. "Su cuy'gar." It was a traditional Mandalorian greeting. He would move and stand but a mere three feet away from the man with a grin across his face, an ever present, entirely positive grin with no malicious intent at all. That would be the only indication of how he felt for he was, as the Dread Guard rumored, Vong-Shaped.

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

The hanger bay was vast and empty aside from the small ship the transports crew had landed and only the shimmer of a shield between it and the vacuum of space. Norongachi waited, one hand in his pocket and his eyes fixed upon the huge rectangular opening of the bay. A part of him thought he had made a mistake, that his trust would betrayed. He was starting to believe it when Galaars ship slipped inside the hanger and touched down not ten feet from him.

The Lord Commander watched him as he strode across the black tiled floor. A soldiers walk, one he carried himself, one that you couldn't seem to shake when its claws were in you. It was only as he came closer and Norongachi's passive, subconscious, senses tried to get a feel for the man that he realized he couldn't. "The rumours were true then..." He thought, recalling a half spoken tale of soldiers touched by the festering hands of the Vong.

"I can only assume that means 'I surrender'," Norongachi responded with a half smile and then motioned his head toward the hanger exit. "Come on, lets have a drink." All the while Emah watched, she waited. Any wrong move from the clone would bring her wroth down upon him.

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

Galaar followed after, and spoke as he did so. "Na. It mean hello. Or literally translates: you're still alive. Which is a Mandalorian greeting. I surrender would be more along the lines of: Ni dinu. Which translates to: I give, and is generally contemptuous. Mando'ade don't have a word for surrender, and we don't have a word for hero either." It wasn't an abrupt or impolite expression, Galaar spoke as if they were equals and not prisoner and handler. He obviously had respect for the man whose company he was now in.

He looked around the ship as they passed through, admiring it in all reality. He was frozen before the Rise of the Fabled Empire and was born, or created, far after destruction of the old Sith Order. Galaar held no prejudice against either Force order despite having several close ties to the Jedi in his genetically engineered lifespan. It was fight beyond his comprehension and always would be, something to be observed. He fought mundane wars, not ones of the Force.

"Where is your crew, Al'verde? And for the record that means Commander. We don't have a word for Lord either."

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

"I've known a few Mandalorians in my time," Sal responded, as they came to the tubrolift. "Unfortunately they tended to be shooting at me, so I didn't take the time to pull out my phrase book." An easy smile played across his lips as he called the lift to take them into the bowels of the ship.

"She doesn't need a crew," He answered as the doors parted and he stepped inside. "The ones that I brought with me for the hand over are merely passengers. They'll be dumped as soon as we reach CIS space. She's as anti-social as I am." He thumbed the button for bridge level and the lift began to hum with life. "Cryptic, I know but you'll meet her soon enough. She's coordinating with the Corvettes for our jump." And she was, the ships A.I was corralling the other ships into a standard jump formation around the Star Destroyer and transmitting hyperspace coordinates to their crews.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

"You met the wrong Mando'ade then. A good warrior tends to think before he shoots, keeps him alive long, with his survival prolonged so is that of his clan." Galaar was obviously deeply involved with Mandalorian culture from his time period, a period where the clans were scattered and survival was their general and only goal, thinks had changed now and the Mando'ade seemed to be on a war path.

"If I knew we were having drinks, I would have brought jihaal and ujj cake. A meal is never complete without one of the two." He stated and actually chuckled to himself, he seemed to be a rather light-hearted fellow in reality. The kind of soldier who hid things behind jokes, words, and smiles to keep darker memories from surfacing.

"You are rather cryptic, but so are most Force-Users. As much as I try and understand you, I never can."

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

"A great warrior shoots the other guy while he's thinking about shooting." A jape but there was merit in both philosophies. He had never been a man to rush into a situation he wasn't damn sure he could get out of but then again, sometimes forestalling the inevitable was its own defeat.

The turbolift came to a halt and the doors slipped open when Tal'Verda mentioned what Norongachi could only assume to be food and drink. He made a note to have Emah pull up a Mando dictionary when he had the time, which he never did these days. "We have whiskey and MRE's or MRE's and whiskey I'm sorry to say." He responded as his boots hit the corridor tiles and he began the short walk to the bridge.

"You aren't alone in that. I once spent a merry afternoon debating philosophy with the then Grandmaster of the Jedi. If I'd had a thermal detonator I would have made the man eat it and taken us both out of the equation." Erik Ayden, what a guy, Norongachi mused as they came into the bridge proper. It was as devoid of life as the rest of the ship, the transports crew having been sent to the quarters as far away from anywhere Norongachi might need to be during their stay. A lone chair sat atop the raised dais while below the walkway that lead to it and the platform set before the bridge windows lay banks of darkened computer banks, that would normally be crewed.

"How's the jump prep coming along?" The Commander asked, seemingly to the air. A holoprojector set in the ceiling whirred to life and the full body image of a young woman, arms folded and gaze fixed in frustration appeared before them.

"I don't know where these people got their training but a simple formation took exceedingly longer than it should have." She responded, her voice slightly distorted by the speakers set into the projector. She regarded Galaar for a moment, as if she were wondering if he'd do any better. "We're set and ready to jump, regardless."

"Galaar, meet Emah. My ship." Norongachi said and motioned for the clone to follow him to his living quarters just off the left hand side of the bridge.

"My ship?" The hologram hissed. "If I had the authorization I'd flush you out of an airlock."

"Just jump the damn ship!" He barked, stepping inside the large room. A desk lay in one corner with a seat behind and facing it. To the left of the door was the fold down cot, its thin mattress currently pressed against the wall. Ahead of them a smaller table, with four chairs around it, a light on the wall over it and a cabinet with a refrigeration unit in its base beside it. A small counter sat next to that, with a portable cooker atop it. It was self contained and had everything Norongachi needed to spend his days aboard.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]

 

[Galaar Tal'Verda]

"Su cuy'gar Emah. Its wonderful to meet such a charming hologram and super-structure as yourself." He chuckled at holo-gram, legitimately trying to charming for once in his life. For out of the fact he was a guest that he actually had to. After word he watched Salem and the A.Is little exchange with a blank expression and followed the man once more.

The living quarters were... Spartan to say the least. Galaar had worked with more yet he had also worked with less. He moved toward the table as if to take a seat. "I'm good with MRE's too... They're better than what I lived off in the Clone Wars. Fierfrek nutrient cubes. Tasteless little things, I used to love them until I realized how much better real food was." He paused for a moment and chuckled, musing to himself slowly about ration cubes.

"Either way, you two seem to have a rather pleasant working relationship. My own ships A.I isn't even close to that intelligence and has little more of a personality than downloading things I'd rather not see off Holo-NET and placing them in priority files."

He fell silent after and rolled his shoulders, he was already missing one aspect of freedom and that was that of his strill. But he was certain that Salem would not like the big, fumigating, animal aboard his ship.

[member="Salem Norongachi"]

 

[Salem Norongachi]

"Vor'e." Was all the hologram said before her projector flickered off and she returned to her tasks within the ship itself. It didn't surprise the raven haired Force Master that Emah knew Mandalorian but he wasn't quite sure if she'd just called the mans mother a gundark or not. He pushed that aside and moved to his desk, powering up the monitor as he leaned upon the table top. The screen immediately filled with more work than one man could handle, which brought a sigh from his lips.

"She has her moments, once she switched a single grav-plate into reverse and back again. Unfortunately my then apprentice was standing on it. She probably still has the holorecording." Norongachi said taking out a bottle of Corellian whiskey and two glasses. Siala, he thought, long dead by now...

"Did you say Clone Wars?" He wasn't sure if he'd heard the man right when he'd spoken before. "I have to say, you've aged rather well Tal'Verda." He poured them each a generous measure and then took a seat on the righthand side of the table.

[member="Galaar Tal'Verda"]