New terms

[Cecily Demici]

The Galactic Republic diplomatic freighter waited patiently above the planet Mandalore, capital of the Mandolorians, as Senator Cecily Demici approached the deck. The doors released an unceremonious hiss as they slid open and when she ascended into the room the Republic service-men stood at attention. "At ease," she said gently as she drew up next to the captain's space, "establish contact with Mandolorian Command."

She was adorned entirely in pure white robes of the lightest silk, like a layer of cloud had been woven around her body. Her golden tresses were drawn up into a loose bun that rested at the back of her head and she wore no jewelry. This was at once the simplest and most lovely ensemble she could conjure. A seasoned diplomat she had chosen her wardrobe carefully to reflect both the pure intent of their mission and to cater to the simple, no nonsense tastes of the Mandolorian people.

"This is Senator Cecily Demici of Onderon and Jedi Master Taeli Raaf, ambassadors of the Galactic Republic to Mandalore, requesting clearance to land," she said clearly when her crew had patched her through to Mandolorian control.


[member="Azrael"] [member="taeli raaf"]

 

[Taeli Raaf]

[member="Cecily de Demici"] [member="Azrael"]

"This should be an interesting time," Taeli said, looking up from the datapad she was reading. When she had heard of this overture to the Mand'alor and the clans, she had volunteered to come along to represent the Jedi Order. It certainly didn't hurt she knew several Mandalorians, including the current Mand'alor, and that she was one herself through her mother.

Wearing a lilac dress, she certainly didn't appear to be a Jedi besides the lightsaber hanging on her belt and the white overrobe that hung on the back of her seat with the Jedi's crest emblazoned on it.

"Is this your first time in Mandalorian territory, Senator?" she asked, wanting to get to know the Senator from Onderon a bit better.

 

[Azrael]

Holo-records and stories from the ancient tomes of Mandalorian tradition were resolute in the ideal that the Mandalorians would never be extinguished, never be removed from the Galaxy. There were always be more to follow the six actions and to live by the honor of their fore bearers, and previous generations of stalwart Mando'ade. The Mandalorians were an idea - a cultural truth that could not be erased by mere dominance in battle. Despite their warrior status, and legendary fame, the flesh and blood of their ranks had been thinned before, and had conquered as well. Yet, for all the history of their people only a few times had these iron warriors claimed conquest on planets. Manda'yaim had been their home for thousands of years, and it was still their own - but they had territory in the Galaxy. Territory that was being attacked and threatened by splinter groups of a faction too big for their own hype. This had been seen on Wayland, a planet recently pushed from the presence of the vode by a zealous bunch of religious fiends who sacrificed any and all to undermine the standing power of the Mandalorians. Not to say that the invasion hadn't been profitable in other areas - but Wayland was gone. At least for now.

In the wake of that invasion, many things had happened both on Mandalore and around the Galaxy. The holonet was abuzz with talks of powers falling and rising, the shifting stars and systems being swayed back and forth. Even Azrael's own brother in arms had defected to join a supporting cause of the One Sith - and others who had fallen to the way of Dar'Manda. Despite the strength and power in the salvager's bionic arm, he was losing grip on some of the most precious things to the cause of the planet. It didn't set well with him, and the operational status of their fleets were on the lookout for any pattern that might lead to another full scale war. The Mandalorians were spreading, inching out from the mainstay - and as the nomadic people that they were, he didn't blame them, or even attempt to stop them. The Mand'alor wasn't meant to oversee his people, but to rally them under a common banner with the Manda required it. He was a figurehead, but not a king - and while he knew that going into this role, he didn't understand the weight it carried.

Holographic images spread across the display table in the war room of Keldabe's underground bunker. Images of star systems and trade routes were in view, and being manipulated while he planned and researched possibilities that would erase all notions of seeing Mandalore as weak. They weren't, they had never been weak. Perception however had a funny way of changing that. Incoming communication scrolled through the left hand side, alerting Azrael to a communication attempt from freighters in deep orbit around Manda'yaim. It was just a notification however, as those on scout patrol would easily identify the ship's IFF signature and escort them to land once they had been cleared by a Field Marshal on duty. The names though, especially that of the Jedi Master piqued Azrael's interest. He'd trained with the woman on Vjun, in order to better understand and combat the lightsaber weapon in the future. If she and an ambassador of the Republic had come here - they had come for one thing only.

:: Escort the Jetti and the politician to the great hall, I'll be there shortly. :: Azrael radioed ahead and lifted the buy'ce from the table, heading onto the turbolift for this rendezvous. Personally he hated the idea of politics - which is why the Mandalorians were such an easy fit. There was no central government. The clans ruled themselves, and were autonomous sovereign entities. While he was the head of his own clan, it was still rather managed on independent thought, and he preferred it that way. This meeting, he already knew, was about alliance, or some form of summit to align themselves with the Mando'ade. It had been tried before, and he doubted it would be the last time. Though for the sake of who was coming, he'd hear them out.

[member="Cecily de Demici"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"]

 

[Cecily Demici]

"Oh indeed, I have, Master Jedi," Cecily had actually grown up in the space that the Mandalorians now occupied, but had fled her home planet at a young age. She had since renounced her claim on the Count Regency of Serenno, retaining her honorary title only, but it would die with her. She had not yet dealt diplomatically with the leaders of the Mandalorians, this was her first assignment as the leader of the Galactic Republic's diplomatic efforts.

As they landed, Cecily moved quickly to descend the ramp and was gracious when they were greeted and escorted to the Great Hall. "I trust that the council had you briefed on the proposals we are presenting here today?" Cecily said softly to Taeli as they awaited the arrival of their host.

"We are proposing greater economic treaties with many of our allies, the strongest of which being the collective Mandalorians, we believe both parties will prosper from an expanded alliance," she whispered, having decided not to wait for the Master's reply.

[member="Azrael"] [member="Taeli Raaf"]

 

[Taeli Raaf]

[member="Cecily de Demici"] [member="Azrael"]

"Greater ties with the clans will only be a good thing," Taeli replied in an equally hushed voice, smiling at the Senator of Onderon. She liked the woman plenty, and it helped she was devoted to strengthening the Republic to give it a better chance at fighting this war. "One thing you need to remember though, the Clans are not always bound in the same line of thinking. The Mand'alor might be their leader, but he's more of the person who tries and gets them all bucking and grumbling in a general direction. It needs to be something the other Clans will support as well. Autonomy is important to the Mandalorians."

She was more interested in politics and this sort of thing than her sister, the Grandmaster, would ever be. That might be why her sister had no problem accepting her offer to go along so she didn't need to send someone else who might offend the Mandos. Following the Senator down the ramp, she kept herself calm and collected.

Looking at the escort, Taeli could see it was a good first step since they at least had an honor guard.

"Oh good, we can get the show on the road soon," Taeli murmured, rubbing the shoulder that had the Mythosaur skull tattooed there from her days as a Sith. No one knew she had it, but then robes and elegant dresses were usually covering that spot.

 

[Azrael]

In whatever form the Senate of the Republic now stood, whether it be in something akin to it's former home on Coruscant, or another temporary edifice, Azrael was certain of one particular thing - the stark contrast of the great hall was something far different than the politician was going to be used to. The room was massive, and echoed from wall to wall, as the large stone and metal frame work crafting its essence loomed over the two ladies in something of a hollow and seemingly empty regard. Torches illuminated each large square pillar of the main thoroughfare which led to a throne hewn from stone and crafted to look menacing and important. Yet no one sat on that throne, and it was rarely the case that even Mand'alor took that position. The Mandalorians were not a political people, nor did they have a government that was classified as such in any part of the Galaxy. There were meetings, and there were traditions, but as a family and a culture, if there was disagreement, it was loud - normally physical, and over shortly. Debates did not last in this hall, and yet it was still a place of meeting. The heads of each clan made up what could be considered liaisons to the full Mando'ade, but each was sovereign in their own right, and only met to discuss plans that would affect all of them.

With the Republic being driven further and further into new capital planets and cities, as the One Sith descended time and time again on their people, Azrael was uncertain exactly what was left of the senate and their diplomatic actions. While it was a note of curiosity, he was not nearly invested to actually find out much more than surface inquiries. His own hands were busy dealing with matters at home. Wayland had been taken from them, a sore subject for the salvager as he approached from the building's rear entrance. The Beskar'gam clinking with every step, keeping a healthy heel-toe staccato against the tiled floor. Echoing footsteps drawing closer until the lamplight of the torches would bring out the details of battle-tested armor hued in charcoal grays, blacks and lined with maroon highlights. His crimson visor shone more brightly while he approached the two women. The accompanying Mandalorian on duty shifted his features and gave a fist to his chest signal of loyalty before he turned on his heel and made tracks from the building.

The decision to bring the Jedi Master with her was a wise move on the part of the politician. Azrael was familiar with Taeli, and her - him. Weeks had passed since they had spent time in the ruins of Darth Vader's old haunt on Vjun where the double bladed lightsaber Azrael had picked up on Empress Teta was put to use in a training regiment. A weapon with he still practiced daily to better himself, and understand more fully the Sith's favored weapon of choice. They had been using more and more elements of the Vong however, and it had proven difficult to get around that bio-organic technology. Several plans were in the works however to develop counter-measures against such tactics - but that was an entirely different pursuit than the ladies had come for. Pausing for a moment, and studying them both, the salvager then reached up and removed his helmet, resting the buy'ce upon the throne's seat before he turned back towards them.

"Master Jetti, Senator." The half-blood commented in a calm and peaceful manner. "Welcome to Mandalore, I take it you've come here to discuss something regarding the Republic. I will give you my ear for the time being, but I will make myself clear from the onset. I have no love for the Republic as an entity - out of respect for the Master Jetti, you are welcome in my home, and you may speak your peace, but it better hold weight." Azrael commented in no uncertain terms before he offered his hand forward. The lining of seven chairs surrounded the main throne in a semi-circle. Normally these were reserved for the clan heads, and had each clan's symbol etched into the stone atop the high backing. For now though, they were more than welcome to use them. The salvager himself took his seat as head of his own clan; Skirata.

[member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Cecily de Demici"]

 

[Cecily Demici]

The Great Hall of the Mandalorians was truly a remarkable sight to behold, even for such a well-traveled diplomat. It was true that Senator Demici was familiar with Mandolorian culture having served many years as an ambassador of the Republic and now its chief diplomat, but only with her recent appointment did she rise to prominence necessary to be sent on such an important endeavor. Her ivory heels made for quite the auditory display as they heralded her procession to the throne.

"Impressive," she said quietly as she entered the semi-circle of smaller chairs, placing a delicate hand on the one etched with the symbol of the Falkosi Clan and tapped her finger absently as she took in her surroundings. This was her first task as Minister of State and despite the odds, Cecily had faith in her mission. She knew that convincing the Mandalorians to align themselves with a government -- a culture, so different from their own would be no luxury cruise, but these were dark times. Dark times had a knack for bringing people together. The One Sith was not a Republic problem, it was a galactic problem and it was high time everyone started acting like it. The goal of this meeting was economic in nature, but if she could secure additional terms she would.

"Lord Mandalore," she said as Azrael appeared to them bowing slightly, just enough to show respect, but not enough to imply subordination. As he spoke she gave the Jedi Master a side-long glance, fully aware of the play she had made by bringing her along. She was no fool and every move she made was carefully calculated. When he extended his hand to her, she warmly accepted it with both of hers before following his lead and sitting.

Azrael had chosen the chair of his own clan and only after he had seated himself did she move to choose her own chair. Ultimately she chose the Dem'adas seat, the clan historically known for their skillful negotiations on behalf of the Mandalorian people, particularly in trade. It was fitting that she herself negotiate from this chair.

"Your time is precious, and I assure you it will not be wasted," she assured him, firmly, "you are correct in that we are here to discuss the Republic and I do not begrudge your opinion of us. In a society where anyone can rise to make important decisions, poor ones are often made, the Republic is no exception. Yet on at least one thing, the Mandalorians and the Republic can agree: the Sith must be defeated." Anyone who had ever read her essays, attended her lectures, or heard her speak, knew of Cecily's hatred of the Sith and that she approached the war effort with a no-holds-barred set of policies. So, it was no surprise that she flushed whenever she spoke of them.

"We have fought them for years and still they advance into our sovereign territories in their ever growing lust for power, leaving nothing but death and destruction in their wake," 'well this is a little off topic, Cecily,' she thought, but resolved to press on, "and now, they have extended their grip on the galaxy under the guise of the Primeval, who as we speak sit on your rimward doorstep and plot against you."

"For years, words have maintained the uneasy peace between our people, but the time has come for action. Now, at the turn of the tide, we must once and for all eradicate the Sith," her expression reflected the solemnity of this matter and she paused to give her words weight, "we must form a grand alliance, one that extends far beyond the military cooperation of the Mandalorian clans and the Republic. All peoples of the galaxy shall be called upon to stand against the Sith and together we will erase them from history."

Again she paused and allowed the echo of her passionate appeal to fade away. This had been in Cecily's plans for many months now, but this was the first time she had spoken of it to anyone but the Prime Minister. Her purpose for coming to Mandalore was to secure greater trade agreements, but something had driven her in another direction, with her new found authority she could make the downfall of the Sith a reality.

"The Republic shall commit fully to this cause, but if we hope to build a coalition strong enough to overcome the Sith, we will need the same full measure of devotion from the mighty Mandalorian people... make no mistake, we do not ask you to march to war in our place, but by our side, and once our task is complete, the alliance will be dissolved and all parties will be released from their obligations," this was quite a bit to cover in one sitting, but she would not try the patience of the Mand'alor by mincing words, "will you join us in battle?"

[member="Azrael"] [member="Taeli Raaf"]

 

[Taeli Raaf]

Su cuy'gar Mand'alor," she said, greeting the Mand'alor with a nod of her head. After teaching the man how to wield a double-bladed lightsaber weeks ago, she had come to understand him just a bit more. He respected strength and intelligence, but most importantly, he respected those that could hold their own and would do what was necessary.

Taking a seat at the Clan Tenau seat, she felt an odd sort of camaraderie with this clan ... something her adopted mother might be proud of. Here she was, sitting in the Clans' Hall, on the chair of her mother's clan.

As the Senator made her speech, Taeli decided to remain silent throughout. The better choice here was to observe and watch the man before them. She knew that for the Mandalorians to consider strengthening the alliance or helping the Republic, they would need to show the Republic could actually fight back effectively.

 

[Azrael]

Now seated in the chair that had once borne the weight of his Aliit Buir, until the possessed vessel of his Ori'vod had taken the man from his life. Despite the clone that still breathed the essence of Gilamar being alive and well - he had still watched the man die, and had given him a funeral worthy of the Manda. Gilamar's legacy was left to Azrael, left for the man to take up the mantle of not one, but three different leadership positions well before the salvager though himself ready. He'd proven it, and continued to do right in that vein, but it was a hard road to haul. Every time he took up residence in this seat, it reminded him of the price that was paid, and what he was responsible for, and that burden came back to rest upon his shoulders. In at least a few things the two men were quite similar; both enjoyed to work with their hands far more than with their words, and neither were engaged in political nonsense. Still, out of respect, Azrael pressed his form into the confines of the chair and leveled his gray eyes upon that of the Senator and her Jedi escort. Digits of both his armored flesh and his bionic implant came to steeple together while the Senator spoke.

Cecily was not someone he knew from any of the other senators; not that he kept appraised of who sat in what chair, but had at least a familiarity with leadership names. The holonet often giving him vague clues as to who was in power. The name of the Prime Minister, that he knew, and the Master Jedi's sister as the Grand Master of the Order - he knew that one as well. This seemingly random senator was a blank slate to him, and currently she was taking the time to introduce her own passion to color his perception of her. Her words were laced with strength and purpose, evident with the tone and cadence of her voice that passion and desire were behind every syllable. These were the kind of speeches that would resound within the Senate building to tug on morality, sympathy, and honor to all that heard them. Though to boil it down to the most simplistic of advances, it was a pitch - the woman was selling an idea, and using her oration skills to emphasize the importance of everything she said. Compelling, well spoken, and poignant; everything a good Senator should be in being the voice for their people. He could respect the position, respect the woman, and even respect the ideal she spoke about, but Azrael had reservations - most of which Taeli well knew from their time together on Vjun.

"Well said Senator." Azrael responded after a few moment's pause, as his hands slid from their position and took up residence on each arm of the chair. The sharpened metallic digits lightly rapped upon the stone and metal curve of the arm rest. "It is an honorable goal to render one's enemies inert and dissolved." In this he agreed, it had always been the Mandalorian way to wipe out resistance, crush it with supreme force and dominate the landscape. They had done it with the great Mythosaurs of old, and countless contingents from there on. Thousands of years of war rested in the ancestors of this great culture, and it all spoke of the power and might the Mandalorians could dish out. With this he had no quarrel. "The Dar'jetti are certainly a thorn in the paw of the Galaxy, and it would be a far safer place without their kind united." Again, there was no disagreement, but this was simply a rehashing of the ideas she put forth to which he would agree, the visible signs of a shift in tone though etched across his face.

"However, you are missing the mark on quite a few points of interest." Azrael took a moment of pause to glance at Taeli and then back to the Senator. "The Master Jedi and I have discussed this previously, and are in agreement. The Sith are a united front. It is unlike them to be so single minded in their focus and their drive. For thousands of years, they were the antithesis to the Jetti, the darkness to their light." The salvager surmised gesturing with his right hand towards Taeli and then laying it again on the arm rest. "A scattered force that was beholden to no one ideal, save their own quest for power. Each an egotist in their own right, and fueled by that damning pride to raze and ruin anything that stood in their path. That scatter-minded mentality was their weakness." Apparently he was in the mood to give a history lesson to the woman, that might have been older than himself (though he couldn't be sure). "The Mando'ade have been at odds with the Republic for generations, we have burned your cities, destroyed your trade routes, killed and even hunted the Jetti." For this Azrael gave no apology, nor did he think it warranted one, it was deep in the past.

"We have even gone so far as to side with the Sith in destroying the previous incarnations of the Republic to cripple them. That however is all in the past. My point though is that the Sith were there at that point, and they are here now. Even a few Galactic years ago, we wiped out the Dar'Jetti's advances in the eastern border of our territory to the fringes of wild space itself. They are a resilient insect that will continue to crop up wherever there is darkness. The Sith cannot be eradicated Senator, it is as impossible as dissolving that of the Mandalorian culture, or even the Jedi. These are ideas - ideas do not die." Another moment of introspective silence passed as Azrael took a measured breath and then look the Senator dead in the eyes.

"Suffice to say that the Sith are united, under either a banner of their enigmatic Lord, or the mere idea of his presence. This is why they have taken every world they have made a claim to, wrestling it out from the Republic's grip time and time again. The Republic is a fractured and broken circuit of people who cannot decide between themselves. The roles have been reversed Senator. So to not belabor my point any longer - I advise you to get your house in order first." His meaning was definite and while it was also blunt, it was a simple concept. The Republic would have to rally and be on the same page, not the squabbling of delegates trying to suss out their own reasons. They had to be united, in this goal before anything could actually be done.


[member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Cecily de Demici"]

 

[Cecily Demici]

"Truly the Mandalorian people were not remiss to place their trust in you, Lord Mandalore."

Cecily had been listening intently, reclined easily in the diminutive throne... well, diminutive in comparison to the great throne before them. As achieved an orator as she was, she had to admit she was matched in skill by this impressive warlord. He did not mince words, but neither was the art of word craft lost on him and even as he admonished her for the Republic's seemingly broken organization, she had expected nothing less in reply. She had after all already met with two other great factions who gave similar initial replies.

"My Lord Mandlore, it is true what you say... never before has the Sith risen up in such collective, not since the days of old when the Sith Empire devastate the galaxy, not even under Emperor Palpatine did so many Sith strive for the same purpose... and that is what has brought me before you," Cecily's tone was a little less passionate and a great deal more severe now, "while your estimation of the Sith is correct, your assessment of the Republic is a flawed one."

"From the outside perspective, the Republic is broken system loosely connected peoples coming together squabble in a great hall.. not unlike this one," she waved her hand at the impressive room, remembering that the Senate Tower was built to house thousands of representatives, "to the observer we are divided by race and nation, by ideal and thought and even by word in extreme cases. We split our time between petty debates and fruitless military engagements, which, as of late, have been for naught but loss... Onderon alone has sacrificed much... the Jedi Order... uncounted loss"

Cecily's pale blue eyes were glossy now as she turned them on Taeli momentarily, but the sheen was gone in a decisive shake of her head. Soon, Cecily would write to a hundred families of Onderonian citizens informing them of the deaths of their children in the recent engagement with the One Sith and her heart would break with every stroke of the pen. She and the Royal Family would then preside over military processions for their funerals and not a single tear would be left unshed.

"And yet... we carry on," she was shaken, if only just a little, but she found new strength in her words, "for thousands of years that is exactly what we have done. We have been conquered, overthrown, and brought to the brink oblivion, but we too strive for an ideal, we too are united by a common cause. Freedom, liberty, justice, honor... goodness. Much like the Mandalorians, the Republic is a family... distant cousins perhaps. We are all very different, we rarely agree on anything, we fight amongst ourselves and sometimes we dont speak for great periods of time, but when one of us is threatened, we fight to the death to avenge them and we will keep on fighting until I myself have marched into battle and fallen to the Sith."

Cecily hadn't realized it, but she was on her feet now, fists clenched tightly at her sides as if she were about to meet her maker then and there. Her heart was pounding and her lungs burned, but she knew what she was saying was true. The Republic was imperfect, but strove for an ideal beyond reproach. A society in which every man, woman, and child could live equally under the law without fear of persecution or oppression. Freedom.

"So you see," she said, flattening out her skirts before retaking her seat, "we are not that different after all. We may not always see eye to eye and we may not be as well matched in battle to you... but by the Heavens and the Force that binds them, we will never stop fighting. Wouldn't it make more sense, my Lord, to not stop fighting together?"

[member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Azrael"]

 

[Taeli Raaf]

[member="Cecily de Demici"] [member="Azrael"]

"The Senator does raise a valid point, Mand'alor," Taeli said quietly, but even that echoed slightly in the hall. "While the Republic struggles to claim a victory in the war, they are at least fighting on. I had heard Wayland was attacked recently by the Primeval, there are rumblings that the Silver Jedi are about to be attacked as well. The Lords of the Fringe and the Omega Protectorate are collapsing or have vanished entirely. The drums of war are beating louder than ever, but the number of allies for our side is starting to shrink."

Taeli looked up at the ceiling of the Clans' Hall for a moment.

"What would you and the Clans consider to be a proper show that the Republic has its own house in order before considering pursuing a better alliance in combating the darkness on both our doorsteps?" she asked, still looking up at the ceiling. "A major victory against the Sith by the military? The Senate stripped of oversight into military matters? A High Council made up of senior officials that make the decisions in times of war? The Jedi reunited under a single Order?"

Looking back at the man, her expression showed contemplation.

"I agree that the house of cards that is the Republic needs rebuilt into something more unified," she continued, glancing over at Senator Demici for a moment. "But, the Republic can't lose what makes it special, the voice of the people who form it. So what would you and the Clans like to see?"

 

[Azrael]

Neither of them had said it outright, either from lack of understanding or not willing to put the term to good use. The Mandalorian word of narudar was a specific and temporary pact between the enemy of their enemy. A short time alliance to focus their attention, their weapons of warfare, and their spirit against that of the common threat. This was what they had come to secure, and Azrael was well aware of that intention. Traditionally it had been used time and time again, being one of the stalwart go-to options when a threat big enough was facing multiple factions, touching their own borders. However, Mandalorians had not always fought simply to protect their own territory - as nomadic as they were, it was normally about the glory of battle. In the instance of the Mandalorian blockade on the Republic long before the Battle of Yavin, the Sith had become the temporary allies of the Mando'ade, while the two forces waged war on the Republic, in an attempt to decimate and destroy - simply because it was a cause of honor and glory that would herald their own tales of bravado from Manda'yaim to the Manda itself with warriors both dead and alive. The Republic's representation however was not here because they sought to appeal to the Mandalorian's sense of glory, but an appeal to urgency and perhaps even sympathy. How far that would lead them in this was left up to question.

"I cannot tell you that, Master Jetti." Azrael responded, looking Taeli dead in the eyes, holding her gaze for a moment before turning his attention to the Senator to her flank. "Nor can I advise on how the Senate could ratify the long standing traditions into something the Mandalorians would respect." The idea that they would even consider bending to terms in order to put up an exterior that would be pleasing to the clans wasn't his intended meaning. "My advice was not to appease the Mandalorians, as that would be both a foolish errand, and likely an impossibility." Azrael took a moment of silence to let that sink in, as he looked towards the rest of the empty chairs around them. "Despite what you might know of us, the Mandalorians are not a singular entity. While we have an ideal of unification when we rally to a cause, we are each individuals. The clans are sovereign, and are not spoken for by myself, or even their representative head to which you both sit in the respective seats." From there, Azrael stood up, having no desire to stay seated continually as they discussed - unless he was physically working on a project, restlessness set quickly within his frame.

"To convince the Mandalorians of the Republic's worth would be an undertaking that would touch the individual mindset of each individual vod. We may fight together, but rarely do we stand in agreement, save for the six tenants and long standing traditions." Taking a measured step to present his profile, and stare out into the open air beyond the threshold of the great hall. "What you need to understand, Senator; is that while we might consider aiding the Republic's individual battles against the Dar'jetti - you have far too many enemies on the vode to even consider alliance a probability. My personal opinions of the both of you aside, even I cannot sway the minds of the vode into such an agreement. They must decide on their own to join and rally behind that common banner." Shifting his posture, the salvager looked towards the two women again as his hands slid to the ridge of his gun-belt, hooking both gloved and bionic digits against the tough and treated Terentatek hide. "That though is the least of your concerns." He admonished, taking another long breath. Politics always bored him, but he knew that he had to make the effort - even if just out of respect for the both of them.

"The Dar'Jetti the Galaxy faces is not just a single minded focused assault. They are puppets in a grand game of their mysterious puppet master. Each one, even the representatives of their Dark Lord are all expendable vessels, willingly given to the cause behind which they have been blinded. I've witnessed this first hand as I watched my Ori'vod be gunned down when their Dark Lord no longer held way over him. This is also the reason Wayland was taken from our borders, the Primeval zealots do not care about causalities, and will gladly sacrifice themselves on the altar of the immediate to gain a single foothold." His words were pointed and accurate, describing exactly why they were in their current position, bringing them to this time of discussion. "The Galaxy faces a religion of evil, where every member will fight to the point of extinction, and relish in their own contribution to the cause. Persecution and death only strengthen their resolve."

Finally Azrael took his seat again, having contemplated this long enough to understand that the way to actually cripple the Dar'Jetti was not the plans of attack that had worked in the past. There had to be new methods employed, ones so rarely used in the field of battle that it was almost insanity to mention it aloud. However, the times called for measures that were far more devious and cunning - and would require a great amount of sacrifice to pull off. Still, he wasn't even sure if the two seated across from him were even capable of following that line of thought he'd settled on in his own mind.

"You speak of resolve Senator, of coming back from extinction. However you also think of your families, your friends, and your world. You are facing a force that doesn't care whether it lives or dies, knowing that it will only grow stronger in either direction. Exactly how far you willing to go to ensure that everything you hold dear is kept safe? I promise you this, if there is hesitation, if there are borders you will not cross, and roads you will not travel - then not even the full press of the Galaxies combined forces will not be enough."

[member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Cecily de Demici"]

 

[Cecily Demici]

"While I cannot speak for the honorable Jedi Order," she nodded respectfully to the Master Jedi accompanying her, "I do speak with the full authority of the Galactic Republic and I assure you..." Cecily paused here to consider the great weight her words now carried. In a week or so from now, when a white hot saber plunged through her abdomen, her answer would be quite different, but for now she spoke with certainty, "...there is no border we would not cross to defeat the Sith."

As she let this pronouncement settle in, she studied Azrael carefully. Cecily admired this Mand'alor so far. He did not seem too keen on giving her what she game here for, but he was certainly willing to speak and that was enough for her. He was also a very polite, kind, and well spoken... albeit a little blunt, but so was she. Had she known now that in just a few days the saber of a Sith would be plunging through her abdomen, she might have been a little more forceful on the point, but as she had no hope of knowing that, she had to play the cards she had in her hand.

"My Lord Mandalore," she said after a few moments of silence had passed, shifting in her seat to show that the course of the conversation had changed, "I know that the Mandalorians and the Galactic Republic have not always had the most friendly relationship. Your people have not always been kind to mine and my people have not always given you many reasons to be kind... and I do, of course, know that you cannot speak for the whole of your people unilaterally, a concept I respect and admire greatly."

"However, let us not speak of the whole of your people anymore... let us speak instead of Skirata," she gestured to the large chair in which he sat, careful on her pronunciation of the clan's name, "what can I do for your clan? You only need ask, and if it is within my... considerable scope of power, I will see it done. I know it does not make up for the years of wrong between our peoples, but let it be the first step on a long road to friendship."

Cecily meant her words, trusting that Azrael's honor would not lead him to ask the impossible and trusting that her considerably authority to negotiate would give her the power to grant his wish. If truth were to be told, Cecily knew when she walked into these hallowed halls that the Republic had some damage to repair with the Mandalorians. The Mandalorians had wronged them to be sure, but the Republic had left the Mandalorians out to dry when they were in need. She could hardly blame them, but she would see to it that they made up for these past mistakes. It would never happen again.

"Perhaps the same can be done for the other clans in time?"

[member="Azrael"] l [member="Taeli Raaf"]

 

[Taeli Raaf]

[member="Cecily de Demici"] [member="Azrael"]

Taeli would let the Senator speak, remaining silent while she processed the Mand'alor's words. She knew of what he spoke about, having been on the other side of things for some time. She had witnessed first hand how the Sith had little concern for the lives of people when they came to conquering or in general for that matter. The recent slaughter on Fresia was evidence enough that life was not something the Sith valued. Taeli had always been different in that she only ordered forces under her to deal with the enemy that was actually fighting back, civilians were off limits and if that rule was violated, justice would be meted out.

How do you fight an enemy that didn't care about life, but was united in the goal of complete conquest and control, in drowning the galaxy in darkness? You break them, you deprive them of the ability to do what they enjoyed. Attacks to cripple, targeted assaults on key enemies, stealing tech, sabotage. All of those could go a long way and would be necessary to defeating the juggernaut the Republic, and really everyone faced.

"Perhaps it is time for new tactics to be adopted," Taeli mumbled, more to herself than the others as she thought long and hard on what was said. She almost missed the offer to helping the Mand'alor's personal clan, and that might be the route they would need to go. Individual clans, one at a time and actually following through on promises made. If the Republic didn't do it though, if such promises got bogged down in procedure and distribution, Taeli would do it herself. She had the money and resources after all.

 

[Azrael]

As a notable tradition, there was a reason that Mandalorians were not known for speeches, and lengthy debates. While they would certainly argue, the idea that might meant right, and strength overcame even the most stringent of objections was a testament to their bravado and thick skulls. Mandalorians were not daft, or even barbaric in actuality, but they didn't have stomachs for things that should be settled with force rather than with finesse. Even from the holo-records, Azrael couldn't come up with a single instance where a practiced politician ever rose from the ranks of the Mandalorians, or joined them for that matter. That was a different world, with a completely counter-intuitive set of rules and regulations that the Mando'ade were certainly not known for adapting to, or participating in. The arena of debate was Cecily's world, not his own - and that would likely never change. Despite her wisdom, discernment and ability to sway with her words - the woman was not a warrior, at least so far as he was concerned. She didn't stand on the battle ground and push through the weight of hordes in service to her cause. Yet he couldn't say she wouldn't be willing to if she had the necessary skills to arrive in combat - it was simply the idea that she'd likely never done it that gave him continual pause.

"To put it simply, Senator - I don't believe you." The curt and blunt reply left Azrael's lips keeping his gaze fixed on her own letting those words sink in. "The only reason you say that is because you're ignorant to the fact of what it might cost you. I know what it would take to defeat the Sith, and I'm not even willing to cross some lines. That is the clear difference - the Sith show no restraint. You cannot stand on moral ground while the Sith burn it from under you - nor could the Mandalorians rest on our honor, expecting it to hold weight against an army that doesn't even care for its warriors." A shake of his head was given while a sigh left the salvager's mouth. "The Dar'jetti are a plague upon the Galaxy, and the only way to defeat a disease like this, is to introduce a new one into it. Sabotage from within is the key to their demise. If there is one thing that has held true for the existence of the Galaxy itself is that history always repeats. The same way the old tyrannical Sith were defeated last time will be their undoing again." Azrael spoke of the travesty of Rusaan - a tale that he was assured that the Jedi Master herself knew well. The mass suicidal attempt at a last stand to wipe out all the Jedi, and in the process destroy the Sith as well. In the end it was a trick of a new leader, the champion of their creed, and one that was carving a new path by removing the old.

The Mand'alor had been pondering that method for sometime now, ever since he saw what Wayland had taught him. Even in loss there were lessons to be learned, and he'd be a fool as leader of his people not to consider options when dealing with such an enemy. Unfortunately for the half-blood he hadn't come up with a viable plan as how to start such an insurrection within the ranks of either the Prime, or the Sith. Neither the opportunity, nor the actual person capable of such a coup had presented themselves, and right now he was more focused on rebuilding than trying to find someone who would most likely have to be sacrificed in the process to gain that goal. For now though, the decisions of the clans were on his mind, and their current issues with the Republic, which Cecily wisely brought up. The attention shifting to that of the state of Skirata, to which Azrael sat as clan head after the initial passing of Gilamar. He still felt in some odd way that he was simply keeping the seat warm for the rightful A'lor, but he never voiced that suspicion - at least not to anyone but the woman he trusted most in his life.

"We want nothing from the Republic, Senator. Specifically, what you have to offer, we already have - and though we welcome help, we're not asking for it. You've come to us, asking for our own alliance. You're the one that needs something from us." Azrael again called out an error he saw in her logic, before he stood up from the seat again, and let his hands fall to the gunbelt about his waist. "As far as my Aliit goes, there are plenty of mercenaries in the ranks that will aid if the price is right. Most of the other clans are also as simple. If it will not go against the Mando'ade, and if the credits stack up in our favor, our gun hands will come to your call. I'm sure you'll find similar answers from any of the other Buirs you speak to, but it's not a guarantee." Gray eyes cast to Taeli as he gave a nod of respect to the woman who hadn't said much in her time seated in the clan of her mother's name. "Master Jedi, you'll probably fair better in talks with the clan heads, than that of Republic officials - no offense Cecily, but as far as our time together today, I believe this is as far as an agreement as I can give to either of you."

[member="Cecily de Demici"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"]