Humble [ft. the Mandalorians]

[Darth Carnifex]

​

Bastion​

Capital of the Sith Empire​

There was a calmness to them, a sort of twisted serenity as the multitude of destroyer and battlecruiser class warships wafted gently on the outskirts of Bastion’s upper atmosphere; a constant reminder of the Empire’s might looming menacingly over the resplendent throne world. Yet there was one ship among the dozens of others, one that dwarfed all of them with its immenseness. So large was it that it cast a great and terrible shadow over even the mighty Defoliation Siege Battlecruisers that flanked it.

This was the crowning jewel of the Sith Empire, the Behemoth.

The Emperor’s personal flagship.

At ten kilometers from stem to stern it was not only the largest dreadnought in the Sith-Imperial Armada, but also the largest dreadnought in the whole galaxy. It was the culmination of nearly thirty years of construction, research, and meticulous planning on behalf of the Dark Lord himself.

Yet for now the Behemoth sat idle, its weapons powered down. It’s current purpose was to serve as a visible sword, a warning that at any moment it could be let loose from its sheath and plunged in the heart of anyone foolish or insane enough to draw out the Emperor’s ire.

It had been several weeks, a couple months at most, since the fateful Red Coronation at the Sundari Palace on Mandalore. During the chaos the son of the Emperor, Ancius Zambrano, had been slain by an errant Mandalorian soldier, throwing the entire relationship between the two neighboring Empires into disarray. Angered, yet restrained, the Emperor now called for Yasha Mantis and her cohorts to meet with him in the sanctity of his own palace on Bastion, to reaffirm the alliance and ensure that there was no confusion between these two heads of state.

Their first sight upon exiting hyperspace above Bastion would be the Behemoth, followed by the flotilla of Star Destroyers that surrounded it protectively. Then a descent through the clouds, heavily pregnant with rain, to bear witness to the majestic metropolis of Ravelin, and the monolithic palace that dominated its center.

At three kilometers in height, it was a more impressive display than anything around it for miles. It was a symbol of the Emperor’s power, prestige, and opulence.

It was a symbol of his Empire’s magnificence.

Jutting out from the pyramidal structure was a landing pad where the Mand’alor’s ship would be specifically guided to, a small cadre of Crownguard awaiting her arrival.

“Many greetings onto you, Mand’alor. The Emperor awaits you in the throne room.”

[member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Ao Xian"] | [member="Astrid Gray"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"]​

 

[Baiko no Kaho]

While the armour weave chafed on her skin, Baiko wore it at [member="Gray Raxis"]’ behest. She layered her most diplomatic finery over the armour weave, appearing as she was, an Atrisian-styled Lady of enough standing to face the coming onslaught. The colours Baiko wore, and the sigils upon her clothing were indicative of Clan Raxis, and Clan Mantis. Two wolves, one in lonely terror and the other in the strength of the Pack.

Baiko meditated as the Aay’han left Hyperspace and came within the conglomerate of ships around Bastion. It was by far time to settle the manner of the Emperor's visit to Mandalore, which should have been a much happier occasion than it turned into. A maw of gigantic teeth, willing at any moment to snap and snuffle and crunch on armour and bone surrounded the planet. Ageless and inspiring of intimidation and fear, the entire planet was as the Emperor on his throne. Protected. Vicious. Perilous in its’ honour and its’ tactic. Yasha sniffed inward and clenched her fists. So many. So many rows of teeth it was beyond all forces she had yet seen.

“Easy, be ad’ika. If he wanted us dead, we would be already. My instinct tells me he does not want us dead. Let us use that advantage and handle these affairs with our chins where they ought to be... unless he wants to make an example of us. In that case, what a glorious way to be reunited with [member="Aditya Mantis"], eh? Death is only the end for the unimaginative.” Baiko took Yasha’s crushgaunt-clad hand and squeezed. She unclasped the gray cape of mourning from one of Yasha’s shoulders, and let the cape drape over her arms and body.

Ambrose Vizsla and a cohort of his Yalilyr stood waiting the young Mand’alor, Baiko and their exit to the Palace.

They surrounded Mand’alor Haran Rekr in a respectful enclosure, as the Crownguard stepped forward to greet her. Baiko stepped forward and bowed with her hands clasped before her.

“The Mand’alor thanks you for this kind greeting, and bids you lead us to the Emperor without delay, that we may greet him appropriate to his Station.” Baiko bowed again, ever the polite and gracious servant.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | Darth Saarai | [member="Ao Xian"] | [member="Astrid Gray"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"]

 

[Darth Ophidia]

The Purpose of the Sith Assassins was more than dealing death and destruction; it was to serve the Dark Lord of the Sith, and to ensure that the Sith did not fall into collapse and ruin. They left behind many comforts and distinctions in order to serve this very important function, and the last time the Sith Emperor had met with the Mandalorians, they had been a hair's width too close to failure.

Darth Ophidia would not allow it to happen on her watch.

She had urged retribution, but the Dark Lord held his alliances dear. She could understand why, though it was not her purpose to think in such ways: The word of their Empire had to be unquestionable, whether it was a promise of protection or destruction.

That was why, this time, she had personally added a number of precautions to Darth Carnifex' existing security. Their guests would be clearly notified that all force nullification items or creatures had to be left on the ship. Any attempt at sneaking them through would be dealt with harshly. Additionally, she had placed eyes throughout the palace to warn them of any sudden signs of incursion, Mandalorian or otherwise.

Even in the throne room, there was something curled up under the Dark Lord's throne: A white serpent, coiled and watching. She lent it a part of her mind, and in return it gave her a second perspective of the room perpendicular to her own. Her position was intentionally peripheral, putting her out of the immediate perspective, and her presence was buried to make most simply overlook her, unless she chose for them to see.

There she stood, silently watching with unblinking eyes, like embers in her face of ash: The Queen of Shadows.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Darth Saarai"] [member="Ao Xian"] [member="Astrid Gray"] [member="Baiko no Kaho"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Helmet in the crook of her arm, Yasha walked beside her former nanny, who recently became Yasha’s new mother. [member="Baiko no Kaho"]’s adoption of [member="Kaden Mantis"], and thus the role of ‘Buir’ in Yasha’s life came at a time where the Mandalorian Empire hung on the precipice of one or three more ill spoken words.

The relief of having her new mother by her side was as protective a relief as the armour around her shifting body. The Atrisian-trained Echani-Kiffar was the closest person to a pure diplomat the Mandalorians had, a shrewd and polite woman who above all, only let calm heads prevail. While for the first time the situations around her gave a healthy fear to her spine, Yasha rose to meet the summons of the Dark Lord as he had met hers. Her armour had been added to, since last the Emperor laid eyes on the Epicanthix with intent to make her a daughter of his House. Growth plates were added to her stomach, releasing pressure on a belly, which had begun to grow. For now, the cape hid the truth.

It was past time to discuss the death of Ancius, and rectify as much of the situation as she could. In that vein, Yasha refused to sulk or hide on Mandalore. She would look Kaine Zambrano in the eyes, and give him the respect of his station, as he gave her similar courtesy, as fraught as her first days had been. One of the Yalilyr behind her held a mourning cloth of grey linen, done in Clan Mantis’ insignia, which covered gifts for a grieving father.

In the weeks since Ancius’ death, Yasha had let loose the Yalilyr to find the perpetrators, and clear the city of terror. She opened the palace to continue working on Manda’yaim’s ecological situation, and opened talks with alliances to secure Mandalorian borders. Naval stations came back to life, fleets patrolled Mandalorian airspace, and laws which kept the Mando’ade in fear were being rewritten. She did not stay idle mourning a broken chair.

After all, a throne was simply that. A chair. Power needed no throne, just as [member="Darth Carnifex"] needed no grand armada to claim his sovereignty. He could have stood alone in an empty room and commanded the same presence of power and prestige, it was his Right.

Squaring her shoulders, Yasha stayed silent as Baiko spoke on her behalf. No Ysalamiri, nor force-nulling artifacts were taken within the Sith Empire's Palace. She kept her amber eyes in motion as they walked through the Palace, monitoring what she could see, smell and taste on the air. Walking calmly into the Throne Room of the Dark Lord, Yasha Mantis put her eyes upon his form and kept forward, ever forward.

Looking back was useless now. Only to the future could they cleave.

“Epnilal Zambrano. Momi' bliidembr, Gak-Kemb, All-Foduil. Id er pi' uani duiri viiqr uozi xlaybud vamrasodeam vuili duili er lebudiayr lobi. I ahhil oboem, pi' nilramos ri'pnodueir, omk eh i'ay nilped pi, dui uamayl ah bezemb dui pom vua vaysk uozi xiim pi' uyrxomk, behdr xiheddemb dui rnayri ah Momk’osal. Tuari vua vamrnelik da uolp i'ay oli xiemb uymdik, omk vess xi kiosd vedu uolrusi'.” The upbringing Yasha received from her Panathan mother was enough to remind her of the giving of gifts to the dead, for their tombs. Yasha bowed her head with a curtsey, giving deference to the man in his own Keep, as he gave to her in hers.

Today she was both Mand’alor and Daughter of Panatha attempting to right a wrong.

[member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Astrid Gray"] | [member="Ao Xian"]​

* ”Emperor Zambrano. Many greetings, God-King, All-Father. It is my hope these weeks have brought consolation where there is righteous rage. In Ancius' honour, I prayed to Nussyn for guidance and have been heard. I offer again, my personal sympathies, and if you permit me, the honour of giving the man who would have been my husband, gifts befitting the spouse of Mand’alor. Those who conspired to harm you are being hunted, and will be dealt with harshly, without restraint.”​

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Crownguard accepted Baiko's welcoming with utter silence, gesturing towards the large doors that acted as the entrance to the Palace's interior. Beyond them was a series of labyrinthine corridors that seemed to stretch on indefinitely, the walls stark gray and illuminated by phosphorescent panels built into the very walls themself. Throughout the intertwining depths of the palace other servants of the Emperor could be seen scurrying about their business, weaving around the escorted procession without so much as lifting their gaze up to the Mandalorian newcomers.

Then they finally reached it, the entrance to the Sith Empire's seat of power in the galaxy.

The large doors were pushed open and...

​

​

The throne room beyond was wreathed in shadow, the air thick with the pungent odor of darkness and decay. A single walkway connected the threshold to a massive platform suspended over a virtually bottomless pit seething with the incoherent void, a ring of electroluminescence strips configured in the shape of the Sith-Imperial Crest surrounded the throne upon which the undisputed Emperor of the Sith sat immobile; his dark eyes visible even across the vast gulf between them.

With a gesture he beckoned them forward, and the guards that had escorted them filtered behind to guard the door and ensure that no one dared interrupt or try to leave the meeting early. Next to the throne were several of the Emperor's advisors, their expressions grim as they too cast their sight upon Yasha Mantis and her cohorts.

Behind them were several gangly aliens dressed in rich byzantine robes, their insectoid faces hidden by rebreathers and ocular goggles that protected their weak eyes from even the most mundane of light.

Yet they did not make an impression as much as the eight bright crimson guards did, each one standing a suitable distance away from the throne with exotic and dangerous weapons held in their iron grasps. They stood so still and so intently that one could easily mistake them for statues.

“Epnilal Zambrano. Momi' bliidembr, Gak-Kemb, All-Foduil. Id er pi' uani duiri viiqr uozi xlaybud vamrasodeam vuili duili er lebudiayr lobi. I ahhil oboem, pi' nilramos ri'pnodueir, omk eh i'ay nilped pi, dui uamayl ah bezemb dui pom vua vaysk uozi xiim pi' uyrxomk, behdr xiheddemb dui rnayri ah Momk’osal. Tuari vua vamrnelik da uolp i'ay oli xiemb uymdik, omk vess xi kiosd vedu uolrusi'.”

Zambrano held up a hand, a signal for Yasha to speak no more and to let him interject without interrupting her.

"You are not here to trade niceties with me in our native tongue, Yasha Mantis, though I will accept your gifts all the same on behalf of my murdered son. No, you are here to account for what happened on Mandalore, and to ensure that nothing threatens the alliance I worked so many years to create ever again." He spoke with a fierceness becoming of the Emperor of such a mighty Empire, his eyes smoldering with what could be considered anger and indignation. He had suffered quite the embarrassment at the hands of the Mandalorians, for he had been allowed to suffer bodily harm in the presence of his hosts after extending the proper respect as a guest.

"So, let's start talking."

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Baiko no Kaho"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Astrid Gray"] | [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Ao Xian"]​

 

[Astrid Gray]

It was only the second time she had stood in the throne room, and still Astrid couldn't quite remain comfortable. Albeit, she much preferred standing in the position she was now rather than where Yasha Mantis was currently. Stood before the throne, the Dark Lord of the Sith sitting there staring at you. Astrid could still remember how cold she felt, that sinking feeling in her stomach.

Yes, she most definitely liked where she stood now.

She had heard of what had happened to his son, killed in a mess of a situation involving the Mandalorian Empire. Whatever went down there had splintered their numbers and made the alliance with the Sith shaky.

Astrid had been requested to attend this event for a purpose she didn't initially understand. Being the both the head and face of SINN, she was wired into the information that came in and out of the Sith Empire. But it was solely for the purpose of the newscasts, and yet here she was part of something that was surely personal to the Dark Lord.

But it became apparent when she had been instructed to bring one of her cameras. He wanted it to be documented.

The drone silently hovered a distance above everyone, not too far away from Astrid as its lense was fixed upon the centre of the throne room. The woman's eyes flickered between the Dark Lord, their guests and the datapad in her hand as words steadily filled the screen seconds after being spoken.

[member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Ao Xian"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Baiko no Kaho"]​

 

[Baiko no Kaho]

Baiko let herself breathe as she listened to the intimidation of their host. To say it was expected was to say that death incarnate clung to [member="Darth Carnifex"]. Keeping her face neutral, Baiko tilted her chin to the side.

“A son murdered by a Sith trooper, Emperor Zambrano.” Baiko stepped forward a single step, still within arm’s reach of [member="Yasha Mantis"]. “The man who shot at you in the throne room was one of your own, disgruntled and new to Mandalore. The man who unleashed the wrist rocket, which started the riot was acting as we can only assume, to take eyes off your person. His actions backfired terribly and he is in the wind, Vilaz Munin is no longer of Mandalore, nor does he represent our government. The man who refused to see the plot of your apprentice [member="Calina Ovmar"] to turn us against each other was the Alor of a Clan who lost their claim on the very Mantle Mand’alor the Hell Wolf now bears. It was the death of Shukalar, one of the four ruling Cuir Rekr, which called you and your departed son to the throne room that day. A death made to appear as if conducted by your very will and design. There are myriad avenues conspiring to tell Mandalore that you are preparing for war, and attempting in their ilk to force our teeth to take the first bite. Let us call the events on Mandalore what they are, your Imperial Majesty.”

Baiko’s mahogany eyes tilted upward, peering toward the enthroned man’s face. “Terrorists dictating the actions of two Empires, in an attempt to embarrass and break them. We must not let the antagonistic actions of a few ne’er-do-wells manipulate Mand’alor and Emperor alike. Emperor Zambrano, shall we carry anger and misgivings between each other on behalf of outside manipulators, during a transition of power or shall we see the threats as they are? One thing remains clear. We have mutual enemies, which desire to humiliate the mighty, and build castles out of unbaked clay on all our bones. We must not condemn each other for that.”

Two women stood tall in a room filled with beings of the Sith Empire. Baiko let her poise carry her, as she did in perpetuity. She knew no other way.

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The Emperor blew air out of his nose at the end of Baiko's speech, "The man's face was known to me, a feckless worm who didn't possess any conviction for the ideals he fought for. I hope you find him and grant him the coward's death he deserves." It would be but a small punishment for what the Emperor would have done to him he had properly gotten his hands on the man, his suffering would have been legendary even among the most callous sadists.

Then the mention of [member="Vilaz Munin"].

"I know Vilaz Munin, impatient, impulsive, but possessing great loyalty when called upon. I do not believe that his violent outburst in the palace was a cover for the former soldier's attempt on my life, the assassin's face was one of opportunistic desperation, not coordinated concentration. Still, he should be held to account for his actions, but I personally do not believe he is worthy of death. Perhaps exile or detention, but Munin can be made to serve if given the opportunity." Munin and Zambrano had worked together before during the Great War, Munin taking many payments on behalf of the One Sith Empire to exterminate Jedi and Republic officials.

The Emperor relaxed back in his throne, clearly pleased with how this conclave was progressing thus far. "Both of our people have suffered many wrongs by those who harbor an intense fear of what we could accomplish if we set aside our petty bickering and worked together. Let this day mark a declaration of renewed allegiance, to remember those we have lost, and to show that our alliance cannot be so easily broken or cast aside."

His eyes now bore into Yasha, "What say you, Yasha Mantis?"

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Baiko no Kaho"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Astrid Gray"] | [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Ao Xian"]​

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Munin was not defending the man who shot you, [member="Darth Carnifex"]. Nor do I believe he was searching for an opening as an accomplice.” Yasha stayed within arm’s reach of her adopted father’s new wife. Woe betide any who would separate the pair. “Vilaz Munin was a man I trusted deeply. He cared for Mandalore, and he ran out of confusion and preservation of himself and his wounded wife… yet he still made the mistake of letting loose a rocket in a crowded room of vode. Without the chaos caused by that moment, you would be calling me daughter. The infant in my belly would be your granddaughter.”

Yasha let the words sink into the viewing droids, the scant courtiers in the massive throne room. Aware of the myriad traps involved with walking into the death monger’s personal lair, the young Mand’alor grit her teeth.

“The original alliance was built in neutral space, at a round table with equal chairs. Now you put me at a clear disadvantage. If I say yes, the Galaxy will take it as Mandalore’s capitulation to a foreign power. If I say no, the Galaxy will take it as Mandalore’s desire for war. Mandalore and Bastion have no reason to enter into conflict. Nor do we have reason to allow the distrust sown by foreign influences to direct our actions. You have been, above all, a wise influence and a friend to me, Emperor Zambrano. In the vein of that friendship, and realizing that the recent changes in Mandalorian government have shaken and are in mid-acclimatization, I offer you a pact of non-aggression. I offer to honour Ancius as it is right to honour him. I offer to make right the death through vengeance against those who committed it.

The Empire’s encroachment on Agamar appears to my advisors, who are ignorant of our history, as a prelude to invasion and war. They do not know you, nor do they know the Sith as friends. We must prove our alliance is sound. There are concerns you mean to invade Dathomir. Can we not leave each other breathing room? Or must our Empires linger so close?”

[member="Salara Zambrano"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"And I was at a disadvantage when you put me in a room full of armed Mandalorians, depriving me of one of my most potent allies to defend myself." Now he leaned forward again, his voice low and menacing. "And my son died for it. If we were to be on true equal standing, then I would have you stripped of that armor as the edicts of balance would demand; but no, though your armor would give you only meager defense against the power of the Dark Side, I will leave you with your comforts."

The Emperor returned to his more casual and aloof posture, a wry smile cracking across his face. He had worked for many years to build an alliance between the Sith and the Mandalorians, and though the loss of Ra Vizsla and the injustice he had suffered were major setbacks in their own rights, he still remained fully confident in his own machinations. Though it did not hurt to orchestrate contingencies as he had done, seeking out the now disgraced Ronan Vizsla in the aftermath and recruiting other Mandalorians, disillusioned by the Mandalorian leadership, to his side with promises of wealth and glory. He had no plans to break the alliance, but he wouldn't be caught flat-footed again in the event the Mandalorians attempted to renege on the offered non-aggression pact.

"And I accept your offer of non-aggression, Yasha Mantis. And you may ease the anxiousness of your brethren, Agamar was taken for reasons of a more mundane nature. Confederate turncoats had made Agamar their home, and the Empire was eager to recruit them. I assure you that a buffer zone will remain in effect from this point onward, to keep our nations at suitable arm's length save for the single corridor between Dathomir and Agamar, a chokepoint that would incur horrific losses if either of us decided to betray the New Accord. A suitable deterrent, I would hope. None of us wants to see our people charge blindly into a meat grinder."

The Empire had more greater concerns than a conflict with its closest intergalactic neighbor, the League of Voss continued to wage a terrible guerilla war on the Empire's Southern flank and rogue extremist Mandalorians continued to raid from the North.

They were far more important.

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Baiko no Kaho"] | [member="Darth Ophidia"] | [member="Astrid Gray"] | [member="Darth Saarai"] | [member="Ao Xian"] | [member="Salara Zambrano"]​