Arrival (Mandalore, semi-open)

[sparrow]

A shuttle slowly descended through the atmosphere. It was a small craft, a civilian model, one that wouldn't have looked out of place in either Coruscant or Tattooine.

A woman sat in the pilot's chair. She was tall, with long black hair and mismatched eyes. A large scar shaped like a flame covered most of her right cheek and zigzagged down the side of her neck. Her metal prosthetic hand rested on the controls. It was a very routine descent. The autopilot could handle it, so there wasn't really much that she needed to do.

The comm buzzed to life. "Unidentified transport, please transmit your transponder codes and state your business."

The woman leaned forward, pressed a few buttons on the console. "Codes sent. As for my business, tell Malak-Kra'Nelen that I come as an envoy from a newly-made friend. He should be expecting me."

[Dire Wolf]

Malak clicked his jaw beneath his freshly forged helmet, the deep blue hue of the paint still vibrant and showing no sings of fading. His big purple eyes glanced out of the viewport as they saw a small civilian vessel pull into the stardock, and a little sigh pushed its way out of his body as it set down. His helmet seemed to find a place on the tiny desk in front of him, and he leaned back heavily in his chair. "I'm making a deal with the devil, and I'll be damned if I'm not gonna get burnt."

The man's features had remained largely the same, and his face still had a considerable amount of youth barring a few strands of grey hair. The fate of millions rested on his shoulders. More would die on his command, by people under his command. He had a little bit of stress on his big, broad shoulders.

Sure, it was just a pact that would keep the Mandalorians out of Sith hair and vice versa. It was hardly anything either party would have really worried about though, seeing as they aren't exactly bordering nations. Hopefully this deal with the devil meant that his people would flourish and grow rather than wilt and die, like they had been for the past few hundred years. His big hands began to flip his multiple datapads around so that the screen was facing the metal desk. The Sith would have been just allowed to enter his office when Mal's great helmet fell back against his skull, and hid his otherwise mundane albeit large features.

"Is there anything else that the Empire wants to discuss with me, miss...?" His voice was full of tact as he spoke, having not seen this particular dark Force user before.

[sparrow]

She had been told that the new Mandalore was a large man. She had not realized how large until she laid eyes on him for the first time. By human standards she was normally considered tall for a woman, but even sitting, he looked as if he was overtop her the way an adult would a child.

His face was covered by his helmet. Odd. Here she was, one girl, unarmored, in a camp full of heavily armed and armored men. And yet he was still cautious.

"The Republic is vast," she finally answered, "And we both know that only with concerted action can we hope to bring it down. Our master wishes to learn more about his new allies, but regrets that he cannot come himself. I am here to help keep an open line of communication between our forces, to help coordinate our movements. Should Mandalore wish to send a message to our lord, I will see that it reaches his ears."

"I also have skills which you may find useful." She dropped to a kneeling position, with one knee on the ground. "As long as I remain here, they are yours to command."

[Dire Wolf]

((ooc: You were going to RP with Moonfire, right? I couldn't wrangle what the mission was out of her, so I decided to keep it vague. Feel free to add in a description or whatever.))

Mal placed his elbows on the big desk and leaned into them, his fingers creating something of a steeple as the girl spoke to him. At first the use of the phrase 'our masters' incited the spark of rage in him, but it was quickly squelched as the sentence drew on. Malak's sole purpose in life was to keep the Mandalorians free from the shackles that everyone seemed hell bent on putting them in. "I'll keep that in mind, though I doubt that we'll need very much communicating."

It was hard to believe that someone so small and diminutive could possibly have any skills he could find useful. His army had the best and dirtiest from the deepest parts of the fringe elements of galactic society. Many Mandalorians turned to bounty hunting, yes, but simply fighting wasn't the only thing they could do. It was just what they were known for. Yet, he also knew that this tiny girl had command of the power that seemed to be the bane of his people: the Force. "Get up," his gruff voice quickly responded to her kneeling. He wasn't any better than her, or any of his people. Mal wouldn't have anyone kneeling to him as if he were some king. "Actually, there is something you can do."

[sparrow]

"Perhaps, but the option is on the table," she replied. You might say that now, she thought as she stood up again, But you and I both know that coordination and planning win wars, and that the Mandalorians cannot take on the Republic on their own.

Strangely, he didn't actually inquire as to what her specific skills were. Of course, considering that she was Sith, he probably safely assumed that she had ability to use the Force. However, her skills differed from most of her fellow Sith in many ways as well. Unlike most other Sith, Zarene was better with blasters than with blades. Unlike many, she could not summon lightning, although she knew other techniques that made for that.

Regardless, whatever job he had, she could handle it. "What's the task?"

[Meira]

(Dire, for the sake of simplicity, I'm going to assume the Mal/Trin thread happened a while ago, before Mal became Mandalore... obviously.)

She'd been up longer than she would care to have been, and the evidence was literally all over her face. She had dark circles under her eyes and a general slackness on a jaw that, from habit, tended to remain fairly rigid. Aside from that, her fatigues were a bit sloppy. The thought caused her to stop for a moment to tuck her shirt back in before continuing her trek. The past few days had been quite the ordeal, but the intel had been gathered and Trin was finally ready to make her report to Mal... Mandalore.

The transition was still a bit jarring. Bane had only been their leader a short time, and now Mal. Not that she disagreed with the choice. Mal had proven himself time and again. It was fitting that he would step up at such a time. The Mandalorians needed his strength.

With her eyes still fixed on the datapad she held, Trin moved through a side door into the room. She came close to walking straight into the other woman, but at the last moment, she stopped. Trin looked up at the woman, confused and not recognizing her. She stood like this for a moment before coming to her senses and turning toward Mal.

"Sir, I apologize. I didn't realize you had an appointment." Just as quickly as she'd entered, Trin turned to leave. "When you have a moment," she said as she approached the door, "I have the report you'd requested."

[Dire Wolf]

Mandalore took in a deep breath, detesting every moment of the sterile, scentless oxygen from his suit's air scrubbers. His old suit of armor was little more than that, but this new one doubled as a pressure suit. With it he could survive for a limited time in the cold vacuum of space. "There is a clan that isn't answering my call to arms on Shogun. I need you and a small party of my warriors to give them my ultimatum; answer the call, or face my retribution. Speak to Staff Sergeant Trinari Velos. She's leading the detachment."

Trin had been with him on a few of the more dangerous missions he had ever been on. She was a good friend to him before he was given his title, but that time was over. Malak was the sole leader of an entire culture, and that brought a certain level of isolation. Being to friendly with his subordinates meant that he would grow lax with them and they with him. They may hesitate when an order is given, and get either themselves or others killed. The door to his office opened just as he was about to speak again, and it was none other than Trinari Velos.

"Velos, there's a woman here that can help you with the situation on Shogun. Go ahead and brief her whenever you get the chance. I'll take the datapad off of your hands," he said to his vode. After the datapad was in his comparatively large hand and subsequently on his desk, he looked back up at the Staff Sergeant. Trin looked tired, almost more tired than any person had a right to be. "Get some sleep first, though." Mal may have had to disassociate himself from his friends to a certain extent, but morale was a powerful thing.

Malak blinked back down to the diminutive girl before him. The Mandalorians had little reason to trust the Jedi, let alone like them. They had even less of a reason to trust the Sith, having been used and literally abused by them in the past. Malak wouldn't let history repeat. Not over his dead body. "I'll be sure you get a room in barracks. You are allowed most anywhere on or off base without an escort, and restricted areas with an escort. Staff Sergeant Velos will be in touch. Any questions?"

[Apillis]

For months down within the old dusty archives of the Sith Temple, there had been a presence, seldom ever making itself known. The archives quiet, dry... dark--an isolated place of knowledge and learning. There have been several who shuffle about down there perusing the collected knowledge left behind and/or salvaged by the Sith of old. But the presence within there since its re-establishment months ago, had been a figure that decades prior was a young Jedi within the Jedi Archives, even briefly having been an Jedi archivist herself. But having faded from view into darkness with time, eventually that figure simply became the dark presence within the archives of the Sith Temple, serving as its archivist.

Yet... with the alliance being forged between the Sith Order and the Mandalorians in somewhat the way it existed dating back to the Great Sith War. It is said that fate, or the Force, whichever one wishes to view it or term it--always manages to deliver unto people a level of irony. Well, in regards to Hervor, the quiet, dark presence in the old dry, dusty archives of the Sith Temple--the level of irony that the Force delivered unto her was extraordinary.

Much of her life had been defined by doing war and battle with the Mandalorians. Much of her hatred over the years, her desires for vengeance was wrought from her doing battle with the Mandalorians and aiding in bring their culture low. It would be not too much to say that Hervor still loathed the Mandalorians, for who they are and their delusional belief in their broken culture. An undeniable reality being for Hervor, is that she would take great pleasure in breaking the Mandalorians once more.

Yet, perhaps it is because of her past in aiding in their last resounding destruction--it is believed she would be good in 'dealing' with them, or maybe it is because of simply what she represents. She tended to assume the latter, for her simple presence in a way makes a clear point to the Mandalorians. But, she was sent along with Zarene to speak with the new Mandalore after--what was a bit unsurprising to Hervor--the capture of the Mandalorians previous Mandalore by the Republic not long ago. It was a bit funny to her in a way, and made her want to ask, 'Why do you people even still try?' Albeit, she realized that getting in a culture debate and being hostile with the Mandalorians would be counter to what she and Zarene are there for. So, while she chose to stay quiet, Zarene did the talking. Besides, Hervor was no diplomat--researcher and academic, sure. Warrior? Definitely. Diplomat? At her most diplomatic when dealing with the Mandalorians in the past was sending the corpses of their brethern who she took prisoner and were killed when she forced them at gunpoint to search for and disarm the Mandalorians own hidden explosive traps and mines they left for Hervor's soldiers. Those battles were in days now long past now, but Hervor's point of view on the Mandalorians has only grown more sinister with time--though that can be said about many things in general. Not too surprising for a fallen Jedi... especially one who became Sith.

While Zarene spoke with the new Mandalore, Hervor kept to herself in the background. She did not hide herself, her presence was quite apparent. She merely kept quiet unless otherwise needed or spoken to. The Mandalorians disposition currently is one teetering on continued survival or annihilation, despite their revival's few successes; so Hervor knew they would not do anything outrageously stupid, such as try to bring Zarene or her harm right out the gate. But, it would be a lie to say that Hervor hoped they would give her the excuse or the challenge. Still--the Morellian woman knew what was best, thereby was not going to do anything to risk the purpose of their being there.

She could not help but wonder if any of them knew who she was, though. In all likelihood it would only be the old timers who would recognize her visage (outside of holovids and pictures) as the fallen Jedi that played a significant role in their defeat fifty years ago. Perhaps out of a certain small measure of vanity, she hoped some might. Yet, she was not going to bring it up, nor exclaim it--because once again, it would likely prove counter to what Zarene and herself are there for. Risking coming off as boastful about her identity would be silly if not outright stupid. Merely being present was enough... for now.

Really the entire ordeal in of itself Hervor had mixed feelings over. She agreed with and even on a certain level admired the logic behind allying with the Mandalorians. But, the disdain she holds for them and their culture, it is difficult for her to see them as anything other than culture of primative breasts continually attempting to plow their way forward--no art, no sought after high learning or understanding--just a culture of mindless warfare. The best Hervor could resign herself to for the moment was using the Mandalorians as shock troopers--wild beasts to unleash on the Republic.

And there in lies the grand irony. The culture she fought for years, responsible for the deaths of all that what was most dear to her, the culture she lead a small 'army' against with the Republic, and saw to their destruction at her every turn... And now she will be aiding them in destroying the Republic, the thing she once for. Just ruminating on it at any level of depth for more than a few minutes at a time was enough to make her head spin.

She was not certain how she was going to adjust to this, or even if she were entirely willing to. The entire affair caused her to feel many things, and none of which she much cared for--largely because of the situation in of itself as a whole. But it is what it is, and she knew she had to simply concede to it at least for the time being.

Though, she arched a brow in reaction to the new Mandalore's words in regards to his task he presented to Zarene. When he got around to inquiring if there were any questions she had for them, it lead her to respond and at last speak up, "Are you saying the fate of a clan is resting in outside hands if they choose not to join your crusade, Mandalore...?", she found it interesting. In the past her experience had been dealing with Mandalorians was their doing everything they could trying to prevent her and comrades bringing an end to the preservation of their clans. Yet, here the new Mandalore was perhaps suggesting allowing her to bring about an end to a clan. Fascinating.

[Dire Wolf]

Mandalore smirked behind his visor as the young woman asked her rather pointed question before the Sith left him. To say that his pride was damaged would be an understatement, but he bit it back regardless. Fact of the matter was that, for all of the combined power of the Mandalorian Clans, they would eventually lose. Whether it be to the republic after they turn their attention to his sparsely populated vode, or to the Sith as a final touch to their quest for galactic domination. Regardless, all that had been signed was a non-aggression pact. To say that the Mandalorians and the Sith weren't enemies would be more accurate than saying that they were allies.

Mandalore's deep and digitized voice came across as almost amused as he answered her question. It seemed to be both condescending and jolly, despite his slightly wounded pride. "Hm. No, not exactly. Not unless giving your master an assignment out of respect for our arrangement is a sign of relying on outsider hands. I respect you as warriors, so unless you'd rather be sitting around the base on house arrest until this war is done, or your Masters call you back to your barren cesspit of a home world... I'd suggest you take the simple gesture of good faith.

You're excused, Sith whelp." That was perhaps the best epithet the massive bear of a man could pin to the young woman. A thousand other worse words flashed past his mind in that instant, but whelp was perhaps the most fitting, at any rate. Mandalore's hand motioned towards the door before he turned to his datapad. Whether she left his office or not wasn't particularly his concern. If she tried anything he would have her twisted about like a pretzel in a few moments. Jedi, Sith, they were to be respected but not feared. He had slain more than one in his day, and this girl would be just another hash mark on his pauldron.

[Apillis]

((Super short post!))

Hervor as mentioned numerous times already has spent a lot of time fighting Mandalorians, and any good warrior knows their enemy. The years she spent fighting them, she got to know them quite well. She could tell when one has taken a metaphorical slug to the gut. After all, she was amused that Mandalore called Korriban a barren cesspit, when Ordo is nothing more than barren desert planet itself, a wasteland... in other words... a barren cesspit. That made her crack a smile.

But she did not have any more questions, she was satisfied with the answer she was given by Mandalore. So her only response was with a contented smile on her face, "As you say, Mandalore."

With that, she spun on her heel and took her leave heading back to where she is to reside among the Mandalorians. Should be an interesting experience for her, she was still struggling and finding methods within herself how to justify the entire situation. While she certainly found things to rationalize it all temporarily, being 'allied' with what she still has trouble seeing anything outside of a mortal enemy. It will certainly take some time for her to reconcile herself, nothing that will ever be solved within a day.

All things come in time... then again... it maybe something she will always remain conflicted with...