Ask Signing the Treaty

[Fenyang]

Walk On Music​

Aboard his new Gladiator-class Star Destroyer, Fenyang observed the deck with a detached sense of calm. Imperial soldiers, wearing unmarked Imperial-made uniforms, still filled the massive halls of the cruiser. An army gifted to him. An insult. Some of the more prideful Mandos chose to walk away from his rule, for this reason. He didn't blame them for leaving, either. If unity was impossible for the Mando'ade, conflict would breed strength for their burgeoning army. And strength was precisely what they needed.

What the dissenters did not see was the opportunity here. The Mandalorians were so weak that, had Lord Raze decided to, he could have crushed and subjugated them with ease. The Mandalorians would need guidance to become truly independent, greater than the puppets of the Sith Empire. But to gain independence, they must begin to walk. They must take steps to secure their own future. They must start the buildup of their industries. It would take great effort to redeem the greatness of Mandalore from its pitiful state.

He thought back to his homeworld - New Mandalore. They had a decidedly different approach to the redemption of Mandalorian society. They abandoned their tradition as warriors to focus on economic and political greatness. Admittedly, Fenyang still had some fondness for his home. It was hard to break from tradition, even harder as a Mandalorian. So many had become singularly obsessed with ritual and symbol that they had forgotten their meaning. Symbols symbolize. Mandalorian symbols symbolized power - be it moots, codes of honor, beskar'gam, or even the world and language of the Mandos themselves. But a symbol is no substitute for the real thing. That is what the traditionalists missed, and what the New Mandalorians, for all their faults, understood. The Old Mandalorians had become a shadow of themselves, selling their 'warrior code' to the highest bidder. It was sickening. And they had the gall to accuse him of abandoning their ways. While they built the empires of others, did the dirty work of cowardly offworlders.

He supposed he wasn't much different, as long as the Sith held as much power in their relationship as they did. It was another area the New Mandalorians could be of us. Providing an economic jumpstart to the army of up-gunned terrorists and mercenaries. At least, that's what he thought the New Mandalorians would consider their army. What would they think of him, now? His parents? They likely knew he was Deathwatch, but now he was something else.

He was Mand'Alor. It still felt like a dream, a dream that only the coming battle on Lothal could shake. What did it mean to be the Mand'Alor, now? Was he still Deathwatch? Ordo? A single warrior? Did he need to build a dynasty?

These questions would have to wait for later, as Darth Raze's apprentice approached the bridge. The Togruta would be interesting. He hoped to keep the Sith at an arms length throughout the extent of their 'alliance,' to give the Mandalorians time and opportunity to build up their own strength. Their power would no longer be limited to symbols and wanton acts of terror and violence. As long as they could manage this relationship with the Sith, their opportunities for growth were...endless.

"This crew is performing more adequately than expected." Was Fenyang, though? He had never commanded a force so large. In truth, behind his passion and excitement lay fear. He was afraid he would fail his people. "Your master has trained them well."

@Wit

 

[Ashla Ti]

Ashla had invested a great deal of effort in preparation for this assignment, studying the Mandalorians, their past, their present, and the possibilities for their future. A future that now involved the Sith, a future that for the time being she might have to share, and help mould. Exciting was one way to describe the assignment, scary was another world, but she tried to keep that one out of her vocabulary for now. They said Mandalorians knew no fear, and the man she was about to face was the Mandalore, which likely made him to most crazy and fearless of the lot. No, she most definitely could not show any fear in front of him.

"I am glad you approve," she replied to his comment, coming to a stop atop the bridge, looking over the crew stationed in front of numerous consoles below them in the control pits, "I am sure they will be pleased to hear your praise." Keep your men happy, keep them motivated. Stand with them, bleed for them, and they will run through walls for you. She had seen that in one of the recordings from an ancient TED-talk good king Siris had given on leadership, and this seemed as good a time as any to put that knowledge to use. People like her master or the Empress had reputations that earned them the trust, respect, and loyalty of those they commanded, but she had neither reputation nor strength, so she was going to have to earn their respect, and she was willing to put in the work to do that. If she could earn the respect of Mandalorians, about as stubborn and unyielding as any in the Galaxy, then surely she could do the same with the Sith.

"I assure you they will continue to impress in the coming engagement. Beyond that," she continued she retuned her attention from the pit to the armored figure, "you can set things up as you see fit. Be it keeping the same crew, or training replacements. Have you given thought to what your next steps will be? I am here to ensure our alliance allowed you to move towards those goals in the most efficient way possible."

She was supposed to forge this relationship into something that would benefit both Mandalore and the Sith Empire, but to do that she had to know where Fenyang's mind was at, his thoughts on the alliance. With that knowledge she could plan her next steps.

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Fenyang]

"Their true test comes in battle. Their skill remains to be seen until then, Sith." It was essential to project unfaltering, unwavering confidence. He would be the helm of Mandalore itself. Even if he was glad, he must act the part of stern. An unimpressed conquer, with an endless thirst for blood. It was a mask to wear, and it was the true mantle of responsibility the Mand'Alor bore. No longer were you yourself. You were the culmination of your civilization, the tip of the spearhead fired from a vicious warrior. A plague to the galaxy, he would become, to see the people of Mandalore triumphant.

Ashla asked him of his plans. There were...so many. So many that he thought would never been realized. In a single day, with three blaster bolts and a few challenging words, that had changed. "We seize Lothal, and then we take the rest of the galaxy with it." One path, the traditional path of the Mand'Alor. Defeat the Jetii, conquer the galaxy. It was essential to channel that spirit, to become the conqueror, Fenyang figured.

"With your aid and the will of the clans, we redeem Mandalore." Would it be so easy? It was the Galactic Empire, secretly ruled by a Sith, that had purged Mandalore centuries ago. Both parties knew this was an alliance of convenience, rather than trust. More importantly, though, Mandalore had to redeem itself. Freedom is never given, only taken. The Mandalorians must prove themselves worthy of self-determination, prove to be greater than the gifted army the Sith had offered. It was a great task...but, with spirit and with pride, they could do it.

"And we deal with the traitors." There were a number of those. And there were many way to dispatch them. It would be simple enough to ask their new allies for aid, but...Fenyang knew the stories of the Mand'Alor. With each battle, there must be a lesson he can impart to his people. The question was, what would that lesson be? Should he use the loyalist members of the clans-turned-traitor, most notably Solus, to salt their wound? Other Mandos? Or maybe, it was the right idea to use the Sith?

Or should he ignore them altogether? As passionate as those dissident Mandos were, they were trapped in the past. Trapped in their customs and honor and blind hatred of the Sith. These were weaknesses that melted before the burning light of ambition. Could a pack of Mandos who were afraid of war and conquest ever pose a threat to his rule?

His rule. The feeling returned again. Pride, fear...he must begin to build a council. Greater than his own Deathwatch band. The coming battle would provide loyalists an opportunity to prove their valor, .

"The greatest task is to reawaken the minds of the Mandalorians, so they can free themselves from self-imposed mental shackles. Remind them of our pride, our great history, and drive them to action based on that." In truth, he was thinking out loud. Mandalore needed armies and warriors, but it also needed scientists, healers, industries, botanists, blacksmiths... The Mandalorians needed to remember that war was not an end to itself, though they had relegated themselves to be mere mercenary soldiers for the past century. No, war must be for the good of their people, for the good of Mandalore. The more pride they had for their home and homeworld, the more comfortable they would be stepping into their glorious future.

"What of you?" He turned to face Ashla. A mere teenager. Though, he would not underestimate her power. The sorcerers of the Sith were cunning and cruel, and he expected that Lord Raze would not leave an unfit member of their Order alone on his new ship. "I imagine that our relationship will not be based upon goodwill." It need not be based on disrespect, either, though.

"I understand the Mandalorians are an asset in your war against the Jedi. A deniable asset. An asset that forces the Jedi and the New Republican and Free Worlds coalition into a war of two fronts." Every Mando knew this much. "But why now? And what comes next for you, for us?"

@Wit

 

[Ashla Ti]

Me?! She thought to herself, wondering what she wanted out of this on a personal level. It was pretty clear really, not die. She had messed up off late, the fiasco with Draugr on Ploo II, her little incident on G'wenee and its aftermath. She wasn't sure how well her standing with her master was at present, and this was an opportunity to make sure it remained favorable. She was a teenager, a teenager who was scared to death of failing her master, and had no intention of letting that happen. That drove her, to push beyond her limits, to rise to the occasion. She just had to make sure to not let motivation turn to desperation. Easy enough, right?

"We," she replied out loud to the Mandalore, opting for the truth, at least one truth, "are here because of you." Sure, flattery might not be the most effective tool against a mandalorian, but even they were sure to be completely immune to it. And even the tiniest chip she could make in his armor would be to her advantage. "The Galaxy is in turmoil, more so it has been in years, and that presents opportunity. For us," she continued, eyes on his helmet, seemingly locking eyes with him through his helmet, "and for you. My master offered an opportunity, if you hadn't stepped up then we would have left, with both of us the poorer for that. Your choice changed that. I think the why isn't as important as how, and the answer is our choices. Ours in coming to you, yours in stepping up."

She turned her eyes away from him, letting her gaze linger on the viewport to the side, watching the stars for a moment. "What comes next," she continued, "is up to you. You have momentum, and the element of surprise. But that won't last, at which point you'll need something to make up for that loss. My suggestion," she returned her gaze to him, "MandalMotors. You have a fleet, you have an army, but to the Galaxy they are no different from anything everyone else has. But the sight of a swarm of Basilisk droids raining down on their homes? Now that will instill fear into the hearts of one and all. You have the knowledge to build them, the expertise in manipulating beskar, we have the logistical experience and resources to support that."

She paused, letting him think on her words, let the vision of basilisks and an indigenous Mandalorian fleet take hold. "Down there is your war," she said, speaking of the upcoming invasion of Lothal, "I cannot help you there. But with this? Give me the word and I can have MandalMotors up and running within the month."

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Fenyang]

The sorcerer, the witch, promised conflict. An industry built and supported by the Sith.

It would be a great boon. "Your Empire Darth Raze have given me a great gift in this army and fleet." He looked to the viewports from the bridge - the endless bounty of stars that had opened up before them, in the vastness of space. All to be ground under his Beskar heel. "As I said, it is too great a gift. Your suggestion is appreciated. We cannot grow fat and slovenly while the Sith rebuild our foundries." She could provide wise counsel, in time. Provide him an insight into part of the Sith decisionmaking. He was not foolish enough to believe that she operated for his benefit alone. He would need to keep her ambitions on a leash, as long as she served by his side.

"Youngling, know this. Mandalore must be independent. And independence can only be taken. My subjects, my people, must prove themselves worthy of such a great industry." They must earn it for themselves. If the Mandalorians became dependent on the Sith to help grow their own economy, conquer territory, . Fenyang saw their alliance as more of a non-aggression pact, along with Lord Raze's gift. In exchange for part of his army and a guarantee of peace between Sith and Mandalore, . Nothing more, but also, nothing less. And now, Fenyang was the Mand'Alor - not Darth Raze, and certainly not his apprentice. The more he could do to demonstrate this to his subjects, the better.

This raised a serious of questions about "Your Master has given you to me, to be my tool?" There were many ways that a Witch could be useful. Perhaps he was being too hasty. If she was meant to be a part of his gift, rather than a...diplomat for the Sith Empire, their relationship would change. She would be of use. But, she could not be trusted alone to lead Mandalorians.

"MandalMotors will be our target, then. I will alert the Alors under my command." A Mandalorian would issue the command to seize MandalMotors, not a Sith. "There is another matter, though, where your skills in subterfuge and deception may be useful." A matter decidedly closer to home.

"New Mandalore. My home. I doubt they have heard word of my election. Their industries will serve The Mandalorian cause." He returned Ashla's gaze. His next task may be challenging.

"You wish to prove yourself, young sorceress? Dispose of their leader. That will prepare them to accept the rule of Mand'Alor." He turned away from her, looking again to his bridge. The more traditionalist Mandalorians may find a secretive assassination of an unarmed combatant distasteful. "I can lend you one of my band, one of the Death's Watch, to accompany you, should you find the need."

@Wit

 

[Ashla Ti]

Ashla heard his words, and understood the unsaid meaning behind them. We accepted your help, but we don't want to be chained to you. Very well, that was well within his rights, as long as she got what she wanted she didn't care who he thought was in control. Her goal was to get MandalMotors up and running, and it seemed like it would, which was all that mattered.

"I am here," she finally replied, taking in both his question and his request, "to facilitate better relationship between our peoples. My master's gifts are not all that we can offer, and if a tool is what you need to bring about your strong Mandalore then a tool I can be. If New Mandalore is an obstacle in your path then I will make sure it is dealt with." She knew enough of the Mandalorians to know the there might be some that might not approve of such an action, but that was also part of their relationship. He got what he wanted, another gift from them, and in return shew knew what he had done. "I believe it will be easier for me to keep this on the down low without the involvement of your Death Watch, the smaller the circle, the tighter it is."

"In the meanwhile talk to your alors, we have a trade treaty to finalize," she glanced to the side, at the gloating ball of light in the distance that was Lothal, "I can have the scribe droids draw up the formal documents, but we can draw up the outline to build around. You will find the Sith to be much fairer trade partners then the Free Worlds."

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Fenyang]

Most Mandalorians likely would not approve of an assassination. Even fewer would approve of the Sith doing the job clandestinely, slinking through the shadows to kill. But most Mandalorians were not Mand'Alor, burdened to act against enemies before they became enemies. His people would need the great workshops of New Mandalore to supplant their own foundries. In time, perhaps BES-Corp could serve as a skeleton to a mighty, reborn MandalMotors, or any variety of new industries. But first, they'd have to shake the tree, change the leadership just a bit. With the New Mandalorians' leader dealt with, it would hopefully take little more than an afternoon tea to get the world into Mandalore's hands.

"Good. Travel lightly, then." A Death Watch face on New Mandalore would arouse their ire - that was true. Failing that, his option was to let the Sith Acolyte run free to her mission. It gave an aspect of deniability, sure, but he wasn't convinced this wouldn't just be an opportunity for the Sith muck about his birthplace.

He was damned for giving them the opportunity to, he supposed. "Trade." Another matter in which he felt fully unqualified. He had been a terrorist, an assassin, but not an economist. How would he know what the difference between a good deal and a bad one was? Better to just play the stern, observant character he had committed himself to.

Or, you know what? Better to be himself. "I'll be transparent with you, Sith." He paused, looking at the hall of the great fleet before him. "It will take some time to adjust to...all this. I know our peoples' histories are scarred." To put it lightly. "But, I see the opportunity that your Empire has provided us. It will take our people some time to see that, as well."

"Give me time, and I guarantee you will see the fruits of this alliance." Time. In time, he could faces all the challenges of leadership that began to pile up before him. And here stood a child, prepared to challenge the entire world. Where was Fenyang then? It felt like he had been reborn as Mandalore. But before that, he was just a man, lost in the pain he so freely dealt to others.

He joined her gaze, staring at Lothal. The site of his people's new destiny. He wondered if this was the feeling Mandalore the First felt, when he set his eyes on Mandalore for the first time. Doubt crippled him, feelings of unworthiness crept. He had never led more than a dozen men. Now, he lead a system to war. He led his brothers to die. "There's a story the Vizlas tell, if you get them drunk enough." He chuckled. "Really, if you just get them one drink. They have a lightsaber that they use as symbol of power. Kill each other for, even."

"Pitch-black blade, as if it absorbs light itself. They call it the 'Darksaber.'" In the time of Pre Vizla, it was even a potent enough symbol that . "The way they tell the story, they make it seem like they liberated it from its great prison, the Jedi Temple. But, you press a little deeper, you push through the bias, and you find that - in reality - its creator was a Jedi."

"And I'm sure I don't need to tell you the Mandalorian opinion on sorcerers." He chuckled again, turning back to face Ashla. As he began to reminisce on this story, his posture eased, and he leaned back into a more relaxed pose. "And I always thought it odd. The symbol so many Vizlas, so many Mandalorians, put such stock into is a tool created by one of their greatest enemies." The amount of love his people had for the edge-saber had never really made sense, but it was one of those quirks that made him appreciate Mandalorians. The small hypocrisies that you cannot fully explain, but just enjoy, as a member of a community.

"I begin to see the truth, now. Great, rare things are truly appreciated only generations later." He folded his arms again, satisfied with the moral of his little story. "Our alliance, great and rare, will rekindle the last ember of hope for Mandalorian civilization. This is not something I will throw away lightly."

He wasn't sure if he said this more to her, or himself. A reminder that he has been given one opportunity - serve Mandalore or die. That he could not throw away his peoples' lives to satisfy his own bloodlust. He would need greater strategic presence than he had ever given in his life.

He would not fail. "Trade. With Wayland under your control and Lothal shortly under ours, there is a path through your empire that unites Mandalorian territory. Our traders will naturally use your shipping lanes to move from Lothal to Mandalore." They would have to fight for every inch between the two worlds. A peaceful path through the Empire's borders could provide so much to Mandalore. In return, they would become a buffer state for the Sith Empire, an impenetrable wall of Beskar that no Alliance ships could break through.

@Wit

 

[Ashla Ti]

i

"Indeed," she replied, "Lothal will prove to be a wise choice in more than one way. Once it falls," the when instead of if was intentional, letting him think she placed just as much trust in Mandlorian might as they themselves did, though for her part trust in the Jedi failing in defending Lothal was much more of a factor, "you will have a prosperous world under your command, and access to Imperial trade will make it more so. But there will be those that will bemoan the loss of trade with the Free Worlds and they might not be quite as understanding of your position as I am. You will have to learn on the job, learn to fight a different sort of battle than the one you are used to." She left it at that, lighting a flame under his ass would not get things done any faster, but maybe by sowing seeds of doubt she could convince him that he needed the Sith, and her specifically, more than he did.

She stared out the viewport, thinking on his words regarding the Darksaber, and how present events would be perceived by history. She wondered how history would treat her, the insignificant lapdog of greater masters whose heights she could not herself reach? A failed product of one of the oldest Sith traditions? Or likely just a simple foot note in the record of greater events? She had known much failure in her life, but this was an opportunity to change that, to rise above her life so far. It was the same for the Mandalorians in a way, despite their history they had known nothing but loss and failure in recent times. Yet again she had to wonder why her master had set her down this path. Maybe, just maybe, he had a sense of humor as well, and this was his way of letting the failures sort each other out.

"The Darksaber," she spoke up after a while, to distract herself from those thoughts, "it is an unique weapon, an abnormality in more than one way. Do you seek it, desire it to cement your position? There are records, both imperial and otherwise, that could help you in that quest." She turned to look at him, curiosity showing on her face. "Would it bind the clans to you? Would the arrival of a contender bearing the Darksaber pose a threat to your rule?"

@Fine Dining Set

 

[Fenyang]

Resistance to his rule? He had barely considered an organized campaign of resistance after his subjugation. He imagined assassinations, bombings, poison; all the things he had done, dealt, as a Death Watch member. Perhaps his expertise as a terrorist would help him to undermine terrorists within his own rule. Fenyang folded his arms to consider such words. The Darksaber. It was a weapon of myth. It had been generations since any had seen it in person. Such a weapon could prove useful to his rule, and yet...

"The Darksaber." He echoed her statement. "Frankly, I am tired of Mandalore's obsession with ritual and superstition to rule us." The Darksaber's eons-old myths were the tip of the iceberg, but the constant challenges to his rule, mewling about the 'lost honor' of their people, spoke to an ideology he took grievance with. An ideology that had culturally, technologically economically, and politically stagnated their peoples for generations. Never remove the helmet, follow The Way without falter,

"I don't wish for us to be ruled by symbols. We are a nation, a people with a real history. Not some band of knights in search of a quest for ancient artifacts." Perhaps challengers would claim the Darksaber. "But perhaps, the Mandalorian peoples would appreciate if I took an interest in such works. Either way, it is secondary to our objective - redeeming Mandalore. Returning our planet to habitability, developing our industries, and reclaiming our ancestral territory." Lothal would be a show of force, of course, but then he had the...unique challenge of claiming every world that sat between Lothal and Mandalore. Even with his gifted army and the banner of the Mandalorians, such a task was daunting.

"Ashla, you saw what happened when Lord Raze appeared on Mandalore. The Mandalorians did not select me because I held ancient weapons and arms, or had the greatest clan, or was the strongest fighter. I doubt my test as Mand'Alor will be physical at all. It will be mental. Reorganizing a society that has withered to bone and dust." If the Mandalorian pretenders wanted to waste their time chasing after old legends and magic swords, let them. If that rallied people to their banners, so be it. Mandalore under Fenyang would have real power, not symbolic power. Ships, guns, armor. But it was more than that, he realized. It was food, it was territory, it was having an actual home that wasn't a cave or a bounty hunter's bar. It was a sense of pride, acceptance, and camaraderie towards fellow Mandalorians. No Darksaber, no matter how powerful, could provide these things. Only tangible action with tangible results could.

He did always love the stories of the Darksaber as a boy, though. It would look nice in one of his soldier's hands. "If you do hear word about the Darksaber, though, pass that along to me."

A Sith agent and interlocutor. That would be helpful. "Have you fought Jedi before, Sith? What has your Empire encountered in them? Are they as fierce an opponent as I've been lead to believe?"

@Wit

 

[Ashla Ti]

Ashla listened to his words, and found to her own surprise her next words, words of advice, coming from a place of genuine emotion. She was not being deceptive, or playing games, but rather just sharing things she had learned, which she thought might help him out. After all her master had instructed her to help the Mandalorians grow, and this was part of that, wasn't it? They needed stable leadership, and that was what she was doing by giving him counsel. "Symbols," she said, "have a certain power. And sometimes leadership is more symbolic than anything else. All the battles that await you might not be against adversaries you can face down with a blaster in your hand, and that is when it could prove advantageous to have a symbol in your hands. So if I do hear word of the Darksaber, I will let you know."

She was quiet for a bit as he asked about Jedi, about her experience with them. She thought back to Telos, to the one time she had fought Jedi. It had been a weird experience, and was likely not the example he as looking for. "I have," she answered, "once. Though I don't think I faced their best. They are a mixed bag, and some might not like me saying this but there are more than a few capable warriors within their ranks. Some that even you might find to be worthy foes, a challenge befitting a Mandalorian." She smiled before she continued, as she realized she was again about to give him advice that would serve him well. "But the best ones have one weakness, they are soft. Their adherence to their ideals, to protecting life, can be their weakness. Exploit it, and even the greatest warrior can fall."

@Fine Dining Set