Ask A Tale of Three Cities

[Mysha Kelborn]

Truthfully, she was relieved that none of them wanted a public forum. But it would plant an idea, and in return, that idea would allow smaller ideas to grow. Already, not coming as conquerors could be an interesting take on things. They so easily could. None of these representatives had no idea how simple it would be to take it. But offer one extreme idea, they would always go to the lesser ones.

And though she knew Kotii would have been all for martial law, that wasn't Mysha. Martial law would solve some things, sure, but they could always conquer later.

The slow game worked, sometimes better than the fast. Look at the Sith. None of that happened overnight. Much as she loathed to use them as an example... it worked.

Still, the three representatives grumbled amongst themselves.

<<What will stop you from conquering our planet?>> asked the Wookie advisor, crossing their arms defiantly. <<Surely only sharing a seat will not be enough for you.>>

"One of us will stay with you, with the people," Mysha replied smoothly, evenly. "Be a voice to the galaxy at large; with us, with our people, you will be heard. You will not be subject to the mercies of other, careless governmental bodies." She stood taller, looking on the Wookie through her helm, and then the Mon Cala... then finally, the human delegate. She would elect herself; after all, what else would she have to lose? This would surely be better than lying low in Mos Eisley, waiting for her life to change. This could be it.

"Shall we discuss further, or do we have some form of accord?"

@Mockingjay @Song

 

[Randor Wren]

Rand thought to grumble at how easily and often these two Mandalorians disregarded the easier option in front of them. But, once again, that was likely a consequence of his very undiplomatic mindset. He had spent most of his adult life in the uncompromising wastes of Tatooine, working for one crime lord or the next as a mercenary and bounty hunter. The kinds of people he dealt with were rarely the sort to bargain. And he inadvertently became like them in return. So, he returned to silence.

But even in quiet he could see the consternation and conflict building on the representatives' faces. The violence that threatened to spill Mandalorian blood had tied their hands. Neither option before them was desirable, but there was one that was better than the other. «There is no need for further deliberations,» the Mon Cala representative said. «The golden Mandalorian's suggestion works well enough. One of you can serve on our council and oversee your people's operations here.»

The Wookiee shook her shaggy head slowly, solemnly. «I concur. In exchange for keeping the peace between our three people, and supplies, the Mandalorians will have safe passage here and access to whatever amenities we can provide. Just don't expect us to be Kuat. The shipyards aren't big enough and we don't have near enough the workforce to rival such a force in the industry.»

The Human, Rykard, had nothing to say. He had been too much on the silent side the whole event for Rand's comfort, but that was something for Song and Mysha to address. It didn't matter if he refused to consent anyways. He was outvoted and outnumbered.

"I do believe that settles our accord," he said, glancing between Song and Mysha. "Does it not?" @Song @Killa Ree

 

[Song Wren]

“One seat will be more than enough for us, as long as you don’t squander your own. The people—our people, now—deserve to do more than starve. It’s high time to make it right.” Song folded her arms over her chest, making a note of casting the human delegate, Rykard, a withering glare. He reeked of suspicion. The timing of the riot, the vulnerable position he’d left his comrades—on top of his surprisingly quick escape plan—made for several coincidences too many. She suspected foul play.

However, Song would not act on those assumptions.

Not today, at least. She understood that was a problem for another time, or something better to be left on Mysha’s plate. Given the Kelborn’s shrewd thinking and the payoff of her more diplomatic approach, there was no reason why she shouldn’t be the one to inherit the fourth seat on Horuz’s ruling council. Besides, Song and Rand had other unruly worlds to quell—their own, for a start. As long as Ghent was the Wren’alor, Krownest would never know peace.

She nodded towards her cousin. “I believe this does settle it,” she said, and turned to the councilors once more. “Horuz will supply the Mandalorian cause, and in exchange, we’ll put an end to your city’s troubles and the suffering of your people.” Song stretched out a hand to each councilor, who took it proudly, agreeing to the terms. The negotiations hadn’t been too difficult, although a part of her believed that was because of the riot they’d managed to contain. Had it never happened, the other councilors likely wouldn’t have given in so easily.

A grin tugged her lips. If the human delegate had planned it, then it had backfired spectacularly, and in the Mandalorian’s favor.

Song clapped her hands. “Now, how about a tour of the palace? We did not come here for nothing, after all, and I imagine it would be best if we are familiarized with our new home.” Keenly aware of the irritated look that crossed Rykard’s face, she tilted her head to Mysha, her smile obvious even beneath her helmet. Then, with a nod from the Mon Cala representative, they were led through the lush gardens of the district and up the marble steps into the palace, where they might enjoy the fruits of their victory.

end thread.​