Opening Relations

[Atin Kandossii]

The snow capped mount Ulgo stood starkly against the pristine blue Alderaani sky. Clusters of trees dotted the slopes, wildlife moving amidst the bushes like streaks of lightning. It was serene. Picturesque even. Yet beyond the visage of beauty was a hard truth, the mountain was unforgiving to those not prepared. Danger mingled with jaw dropping locales that could lull one into a false sense of security.

The man squatted, his back against a tree, as his jade eyes watched the transport ships climbing the mountain. Supplies coming in for more expansion within the hive that had become yaim since his Clan's departure from Mando space. At first he balked at settling on the world, yet as they settled in and continued their occupation throughout the galaxy, it became home.

Rising from his position he moved up the slope back to Fortress Ulgo, where Clan Kandossii was currently entrenched within, the killik hives beneath the fortress branching out beneath to fulfill their needs. Separate homes, a central hall, a large mess, forges, even landing bays had been built into the hives. They were a subterranean Clan now.

Brushing the light dusting of snow from his leather jacket he entered a hidden passage within a cove of trees, stone walls leading him down the tunnel and into the world of the mando'ade. The sounds of hammer upon metal, the grunts of training vode, the laughter of small ad'ike running through the caves, the scent of multiple fires readying meals all assaulted the senses to wrap him in the belonging of yaim.

As he passed different vode in the tunnels he received greetings to which he gave a nod of acknowledgement. He wasn't a man who took words for granted, holding his tongue until the need arose. And the message that he had read several times in his quarters said the need had arisen.

Pausing in the massive hall he nodded to Haran, motioning him closer. A simple tap on his wrist told the vod it was time. Turning he made his way to his sparse quarters to collect his skin. It was time to return to Mandalore.

The Genet Werda dropped from hyperspace, the planet of Mandalore hanging distantly theough the viewport. Destroyers circled the planet as shuttles and transports of varying sizes entered and left the planet's atmosphere. Toggling the transponder the ship began transmitting itself as an Alderaani vessel, instead of a merchant ship from moments earlier.

Maneuvering the vessel into one of the spacelanes heading toward the planet, Atin sent the automated message for permission to land at the palace from the delegates of the Alderaan government. Leaning back slightly he followed the other ships and their speed as the Grey Shadow prepared to enter the atmosphere if permission was granted.

[member="Yasha Mantis"] I @whoever else joins

 

[Theo Vereen]

[SIZE=14pt]He had never been to Mandalore. His father was once a prominent warrior within their ranks was now hardly seen as he tended to other duties. Course his father was advanced in years now streaks of gray in his hair.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]Theo had grown up on stories of his exploits. Now Theo was making a choice, he would go and see Mandalore and decide was it a life he wanted to lead. Or was it to become a footnote in their clan and history.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]He wore a very simple outfit nothing fancy he wasn’t really going as a Prince of Alderaan. He was going as a, hmm. He was going because his heritage dictated that he should, like a pilgrimage.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]Plus his mother had tasked him and the delegation to put together a treaty of some kind to heal relations between the Mando’ade and the Alderaani.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14pt]He was tagging along with [member="Atin Kandossii"] a stranger but someone who knew more about Mandalore, the Mand’alor, and customs than he did.[/SIZE]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Landing coordinates were given for [member="Atin Kandossii"] at the Sundari Royal Palace, where two lines of matte black beskar’kandar clad warriors waited for the Genet Werda’s arrival.

Death Watch, reforged as part of the Mand’alor’s Clan. They would escort Atin and the Alderaani retinue from the landing pad into the Palace itself, winding through to the glorious and vaulted Throne Room, with its’ vast transparisteel windows, hall of white and black marble, and at the end, a black marble throne.

Upon the throne sat… nothing.

Mand’alor the Infernal did not wish to conduct this diplomatic meeting sitting above any of the delegation. Instead, a thick wooden circular table was set before the dais, lined round with equal chairs. Standing before the floor to ceiling windows, the Infernal was a sight.

Her beskar’kandar was far from the most traditional armour weave and beskar plate, instead a symphony of black, and grey, and gold. The usual t-visor buy’ce was exchanged for an intricate and robotically motivated wolf-helm, indicative of the young woman’s nomenclature of ‘the Hell Wolf’, earned through her Clan, and through the keeping of her by Gurlanin guardians during the dark times of the Civil War.

She waited until her HUD pinged with heat signatures and sonic projections of timing and distance, before she turned around. A rather larger man stood beside her, almost towering over the woman, who in her proper armour, was 8 feet tall. Perhaps her cousin, [member="Loreena Arenais"] would care to join, and learn more of the art of diplomacy?

“Alderaan Delegation, welcome to Manda’yaim.”

 

[Atin Kandossii]

The wing mounted engines rotated as the firefly descended for a landing. Hands were steady upon the yoke as the ship settled upon the designated landing pad, the struts settling upon the duracrete with nary a bump. He nodded to his copilot to take over the post flight checklist. Flicking the internal speakers on he spoke over the comms.

"Assemble at the landing ramp."

He clapped his hand on his clansman's shoulder as he left the cockpit and made his way to the aft of the ship. As he traversed the length of the ship he was haunted by ghosts. But ghosts couldn't hurt you unless you allowed them. Meeting the handful of Alderaani gathered he nodded to them as he left his sidearms in their holsters upon a hook along the cargo bay's wall, along with his buy'ce.

Pressing the switch along the wall he watched as the ramp began lowering before turning to the delegates. Only a few had come, yet one was know to him, or at least the man's identity. [member="Theo Vereen"] , Prince of Alderaan. Though he wore trappings less grandeur then his station, it behooved Atin to know who he was in case the meeting went less then desirable.

"These people are warriors. Do not antagonize them. They are not soft nor do they suffer fools. Hold your tongue, for they neither speak with flowery double speak and hidden meaning that most politicians use as their native language."

He gave a slight nod to the prince of acknowledgement while eyes narrowed at the other members of the party. Then the ramp hit the duracrete with a resounding thud. He moved ahead of the group and strode off to the waiting escort. His boots touched the earth once the guards began the short trek to the palace, a squad in front and one in rear.

Pausing once his feet touched Mandalore he glanced up to the great dome above, the sunlight caressing his face lightly. Several emotions swirled within the man,yet none were reflected upon his face. Continuing forward he rejoined the delegates as they entered the palace and through halls until finally they reached the throne room. As they entered half the guard split to the right of the doors and the others to the left.

Atin continued forward as the party stopped, heading to the empty throne and the table set before it. His eyes glanced once to Theo seeing the young man continuing forward as well. As they neared the table Atin came to a stop looking at the figures before. The massive form of [member="Yasha Mantis"] was hard to ignore. A giant of a woman in head to toe armor was hard to miss, as was the gurlanain commander of Death Watch. Alongside them was another man, older in appearance.

As the Manda'lor's words rolled out he didn't take his eyes from them. Mandalorians we're ferocious in their own right, but in their iron skin they were even more so. Yet Atin was undaunted. He had spent his entire life in his own beskar'gam, and even now stood before them wearing it, minus the helm. The matte black color with red highlights we're so similar to the guards that he could have almost been one of them, yet just as the armor color marked him as separate, so too did his arrival with the Alderaani delegation mark him separate of the Mandalorian Empire.

"Alderaan thanks you for granting this meeting and for the safe passage."

His green eyes flickered to the vacant throne before returning to the forms of the Empire's own group. The fact that a table was set and that the Mand'alor was not seated upon her throne was seemingly a positive sign for the prospects this day. And perhaps it spoke to the character of Yasha as well.

"Mand'alor the Infernal. Sole Ruler of Manda'yaim and the clans of the Mandalorian Empire. We thank you for your hospitality. I am Atin Kandossii, alor of Clan Kandossii, of Alderaan. Once we were pacifists. But no more. And once your Mandalore was a thriving land. But again, no more. Now, both aspects of our past are returning. Alderaan is learning that peace is still a worthy cause, and Mandalore is learning that there is more then just war, the memory of fertile lands, roaring hearths, the faint ring of hammer on iron, the joys of aliit, the warmth of a child in a buir's arms."

"There will always be a time for battle and there will always be a time for peace. There will always be enemies to fight.... And there will always be allies. That is why we are here."

 

[Theo Vereen]

[SIZE=14pt]The palace oozed grandeur it seemed massive compared to the throne room of his mother’s. He couldn’t help but wonder what she would have thought of it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]He nodded respectfully to Atin who was briefing everyone on how to act Theo knew he would act accordingly. There was no ill will in his heart for this place or this leader. He knew about the civil war that had taken lives of many.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]His Aunt was still not really seen in public he wondered why.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]Finally his gaze looked upon the woman before them clad her armor and looking them over.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]Alderaan thanks you Atin said. Theo nodded again, yes they were grateful that nothing had gone wrong. He couldn’t take his eyes from the woman larger than any one he had met before.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]He could see why she would have followers it was her presence really. It seemed to reach out and touch upon them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]Theo decided to hold his head high not from arrogance or self-imposed importance but because he was proud and saw no reason to act like a whipped whelp.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]“Yes Alderaan is grateful for all allowances made for this meeting.” He didn’t want to use the M word but he knew he would have to. He wouldn’t want anyone insulted, “My Mother would like to have come to this meeting to negotiate with you herself. She hopes that you will find us suitable in her absence. I am Theo Vereen.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14pt]He knew Atin said no flowery language but it was part of his genes to be flowery and diplomatic.[/SIZE]

[member="Atin Kandossii"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"]​

 

[Keira Priest]

It had been some time since Keira had taken part in proper negotiations, which was to say, those that didn't include implicit or explicit threats made toward the other party. it wasn't that she necessarily made a habit of threatening the delegation, but she wasn't one to bite her tongue under most circumstances. This time she was hoping that wouldn't be necessary, given Mand'alor was present, but even still she wouldn't hesitate. Perhaps her brother was right when he said she had a few key virtues to work on both as a relatively new Alor and one of the Wue'gi Vode, not that she would ever admit to him that he was correct.

Much like Yasha she stood in full armor, her form less imposing by virtue of size, but no less dangerous for it. She stood next to the other woman at the window, arms folded across her chest, more lost in thought than she was truly observing the visible scenery. There had been one occasion years previous where she'd spoken with an Alderaan delegation, but time had shaped both their governments in vastly different ways, and so she didn't presume to rely on any of her past knowledge. That proved the correct choice, when one of the two that would presumably speak on behalf of Alderaan arrived in beskar'gam, foregoing the helmet.

A glance to Yasha with a raised eyebrow beneath her helmet communicated her thoughts on that matter, but still, she nodded her head in greeting to both as they gave their respective introductions. "It's good to have you both. I'm Keira Verd, Alor of Clan Verd." She felt no need to announce her other stations, none holding as much relevance as her place as leader and guardian of her clan. The rest of it was secondary.

She didn't yet remove her helmet, instead extending her hand to the provided seating. "Please, make yourselves comfortable, then the talks can begin." Her helmet would remain in place until their guests sat, and only after doing the same would she expose herself in any manner that would render her form in any way vulnerable.

[member="Theo Vereen"] | [member="Atin Kandossii"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Alderaan is welcome. Far be it for violence to come upon those of worthy tidings.” The Wolf-Helm twitched in a motion akin to a bow of the head, Yasha remaining where she stood.

“Perhaps we should take them on a tour of our… subdued wealth, eh Verd?” A slide of mirth on the tongue. These Alderaani thought the Mandalorians poor?

Yes, that was the case, in the past. Ruined by the Civil War, the Mandalorians were limping through the aide given by Commenor and the Sith Empire. Once the Infernal took over, she stopped those flows, and there were lean times. Rations, raids to support the population and bring simple foodstuffs to the Mandalorians who remained. Yet, the war machine of the Infernal churned. Companies such as MandalMotors, MandalArms and WESTAR among others began refurbishing the lost technology of the scattered Mandalorians. They restarted the furnaces of industry, and slowly in taking Khorm, Contruum, Onderon, the Mandalorian Empire usurped worlds, ousting slavers and Sith vassals to bring the People into the communal plenty. While some places were still being reconstructed, this was far from the limping lean times of previous years.

The Infernal’s Renaissance was one of ecological terraforming, art, music, culture, commerce and engineering.

While the Sundari Royal Palace was a relic of previous eras and their ostentatiousness, the Infernal was religiously simple in her own desires. Rumour was she ate with her staff in the Tihaar Hall downstairs, she slept in a simple one-room quarters in the Palace, until fed up with the financial dourness of their Mand’alor, several of the Yalilyr, and Clan Australis took it upon themselves to craft her own set of apartments and a top floor office out of disused areas in the Palace. The Beskar’kandar upon her body was a gift of the vode, who after the battle of Barataria, gave of their own deceased and placed pieces of their fallen’s beskar’gam to the Goran’e, the Beskarsmiths, to create the Haran Rekr, Hell Wolf Beskar’gam.

So it was, the Alderaani came to speak of alliances and diplomatic matters. While Yasha was aware there were some Mandalorians within the folds of Alderaan, she was little more aware than that. Clan Vereen was familiar, but distant. Those she did not remember. It was partially the reason [member="Keira Verd"] was present. The elder woman and former Mand’alor knew more of the vode pre-cataclysm than Yasha ever could.

Yronwulfr was first to take his seat, pouring water for himself and [member="Theo Vereen"], who he sat next to. The hulking man was indecently large, a mix-breed by the look of him, as he removed his buy’ce.

One of the entourage of honour guards, who led the Alderaani to the Throne Room handed off his rifle, and rolled his shoulders, transforming himself into his natural state, that of an 11 ft long black furred Gurlanin, and padded over to sniff at [member="Atin Kandossii"]. [member="Ambrose Mantis"] trotted to Yasha’s side, and curled up on the floor beside her chair with a canine ‘chuff’. Once seated, the Infernal triggered the mechanism to retreat her Wolf-Helm. It retracted from her face in spines, becoming vast feathers draping her shoulders like a shriek-hawk in roost, the wolf's head pressed against the back of a young-faced neck. The lights around her chair dimmed, as the throne room’s windows were shadowed to make the ocularly challenged Epicanthix more comfortable.

“Is your mother infirm? Have you need of medical professionals to treat her, so she may appear in such diplomatic functions? Illness would be.. unfortunate for your People.” Yasha’s unaltered alto voice was exotic and lilting in Basic, much more accustomed to speaking her native tongue of Epicant or Mando’a. “Yet, if you are her true son, should she die you would fill her place with honour and tenacity, as is expected of us. One must not negotiate on empty stomachs, you have travelled long. Our food is simple, but hearty, all grown in our Sundari Vertical Gardens, and meats locally sourced by my Hunters, prepared by my cooks. Do not be alarmed by their appearance. The preparation and consumption of food is their pride, joy and worship. They would be offended if I had guests in the Palace without the chance to cook for them. A meeting without a meal is heresy for the Hetikles Baatir, and I would not offend my People.”

Yasha’s hand brushed down on Ambrose’s mighty head, a tight smile hazarding to glance upon her face before she let the veil of cold command linger in its’ stead. Fruits, vegetable pies and Mandalorian hot stew were brought in by massive hissing bipedal lizards. Mutterings of 'gotta keep it hot' and 'see if the thin-skins can take spice' peppered the air, as the Hetikles Baatir present served up the food, with as much pomp as could be expected for warrior-lizard-chefs.

“Kandossii, it must have been some time since you have had Mandalorian cuisine. The stew is spicy, as it should be. Eat, all of you, with the blessing of Manda, that we may speak freely and come to beneficial conclusions.”

 

[Theo Vereen]

Theo nodded ok it was that kinda of game, "My mother recently gave birth and is unable to travel. My Great Aunt Rianna attends her." it was here he had to bite his tongue a bit when he thought about his Aunt and his Uncle. House Organa had many ties to the mandalorians at one time but over time it had all faded and now it was perhaps just memory.

"thank you for your hospitality" He nodded to everyone present not wishing to offend anyone. He didn't know what to think of the cooks but he nodded gratefully.

"Looks a little like Alderaan stew just kicked up some" Theo was hungry. "Yes may this all work to our mutual advantage and bring us closer together as a people"

He looked over at [member="Atin Kandossii"] he knew the man maintained his mandalorian heritage in the Juran Mountains as did Clan Order who currently farmed in the Glarus Valley, and then there was a splinter group of Clan Vereen. Yes mandalorians who wanted lived on Alderaan.

Theo took no offense at anything said why should he.

He just didn't know what else to say at the moment.

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Keira Verd"]