Turning Face

[DeathToll]

[Transport, just outside of Brentaal orbit and preparing for stand-by lightspeed jump.]​

"...nine, ten, eleven, twelve. All signed. They are mine?"

Zsaekriel slid the projected window up into the corner of the blue screen to allow the Warden's image to enlarge. One deal nearly completed, before moving on to the next.

"Yes sir. All selected death row inmates are now under your custody and are being moved for pickup."

Zsaekriel's pressing finger held the overlapping windows of twelve inmates, all gray skinned with scars on their faces, all with long white hair and similar eye color, all with a strong build and nearly the same height, all chosen for a specific purpose.

"Good. They will be moved seperately. My men are already on route."

A soldier walked up beside his temporary desk and leaned in, nodding in confirmation to the line's untampered and clean state; then tapping on his wrist watch to keep him on the time-table. Zsaekriel nodded back. The Warden did not know why the inmates were being moved, though assumably to carry out their sentence of death quietly. The inmates were selected from a variety of maximum security prisons, almost completely at random; at least on paper it would appear so. Since no one had tapped the line, the Warden didn't know enough to make a guess or even care to, Zsaekriel's men wouldn't even know or see what they were moving, and all records would soon declare the men deceased on various Alliance controlled prison worlds; no one would know that he had just acquired his doubles-in-training. But just to make sure nothing got out, he'd lock the Warden away in a nice records vault for the compensating retirement package.

"Oh, and Warden. You've just been promoted."

And with that, Zsaekriel ended the transmission. The paperwork was already done, and that Warden would happily never again see the light of day. His family would thank him, as the increase in pay and medical coverage included them.

A very specific knock sequence at the door seperated his thought proccess, fixing his grip on the corner of the large face computer and bending it down flat with the desk top. It shut down and Zsaekriel leaned forward with his hands folded together. The assistant went to the door and unlocked it, opening to reveal another soldier.

"Sir, message confirmed. They have received our secure frequency codes and are preparing the encription and communications decoders now. We are 'ghost', sir. Please follow me to the secured room, sir."

Zsaekriel released his folded hands and tapped his right finger twice onto the desk top before pushing out his chair with a stand and bending around it towards the soldier.

"Lead on."

Leaving the room and speedily walking with a purpose, the two made way for Zsaekriel's requested safe room. It was thoroughly swept for bugs and made both physically and technologically secure. He was becoming quite thorough, possibly even paranoid. Just as he left the other room, that military assistant exiting the room and shutting the door locked behind him, without any permitted in Zsaekriel's absence or otherwise order, this room was also guarded and empty. The soldier showed him to this guard, both saluting, then the guard unlocked and opened the door with an extended hand. The soldier would only extend a hand and not enter himself.

Zsaekriel stepped in, the door shutand locked, and he sat down at this wide display of projectors. It was time for his next meeting.

 

[Johnnysaurus Rex]

Mandalore. That's who the figure staring back at him was in the reflection from the inactive holo table he was gazing into. The man beneath the armor still felt very much like a kid playing dress up. While his time in the clans he had always strove to be a great warrior he never aspired to become A'lore, let along Mandalore. It wasn't time to question it now though. The man he had been wasn't perfect and that is what the leader of the Mando'ade was and wasn't. He WAS perfect. He wasn't a man.

A symbol. A single word identity that inspired myriad feelings across the galaxy and meant so much more. For those who needed him to be something more than a man he would become that. Never would he resign himself to inaction or let his strength fade. The Clans were his voice and body now. He was Mandalore.

A warrior walked into the room with his helmet set under his arm. How he would miss the days he could do that. With a crisp salute the soldier spoke up, "Mandalore. The comms are open now."

"Thank you, Tanyu," Mandalore nodded and turned his full attention to the device that would be projecting the image of the man he would soon be conversing with galaxies away. The machine gave a small whir as it sprang to life and began taking in his form and turning it into electrical signals.

"Greetings. I am Mandalore and I believe our people have much to gain from this conversation."

 

[DeathToll]

"I am Offensive Battle Master Zsaekriel Dtoahfre'Vuun. Once of the Imperial Knights."

He answered plainly, nodding short and stiff. His was a soldier's presentation; white hair tied up tight into a high ponytail, small scars decorating his face, brandishing black and silvery armor with a dollup of red cloth poking out the chestplate at the neck, and an animalistic and gripping yellow-eyed stare that never let go. His eyes would read with experience, and an understanding of a mutual respect between the two men.

"Indeed. The Order is very interested in furthering relations, and I am proud to represent them in this hour."

Zsaekriel's hand lifted over to a datapad to his right, before him, and simply flattened that hand onto it.

"If you will permit, I will send the transcripted proposals and a means of securely contacting me..."

He paused. And if agreed, Zsaekriel would take up the datapad and slide it into the interface connection. Though Zsaekriel had grown paranoyed, there was no reason for him to question anything about the Mandalorians. Zsaekriel held eye contact, through the transmission, with the absolute belief that this would not only go over well, but both sides would come out of this meeting with immense benefit.

"I am authorized to discuss sanctuary, coodinated and aligned war efforts and defense, as well as rights. But before we begin, do you have any requests?"

 

[Johnnysaurus Rex]

"Clearance to establish bases on other planets under your influence. I would ask of dominion, but realize that is a heavy request," Mandalore chuckled to know the lightheartedness of that last part, "Of course our bases would be subject to Alliance laws and inspections should you require it."

Mandalore shifted his weight to his other foot as he turned and brought a galaxy map up and began highlighting and transferring planet data to his GA ally (Molavar, Hypori, Rishi, Kowak, Ord Pardron, Iskalon, Pzob, Manda, Tatooine, Geonosis, Siskeen, and Naos)

"Feel free to send me your proposals. My people are in a dark hour and anything to further a campaign against our enemies is anything I welcome. Security is all I ask for my people and if the Galactic Alliance can grant us that we will do whatever is necessary."

 

[DeathToll]

Zsaekriel almost cracked a smile, if he was even still capable. This was just what Zsaekriel wanted to hear. Just this morning, he'd secretly put eyes on Junkford St., Teth, as well as signing into motion some other secret plans on otherwise obvious worlds. Only the Council knew of these plans and had agreed to them. No record of their discussion or of the plans themselves were scribed due to security issues. They were already dealing with corruption on one of the planetary shielded worlds, so more of the same could not be permitted. He'd already planned on suggesting a similar placement for the Mandalorians, as requested, so this went perfectly along with his plans and without question.

"Done. Obviously I cannot give you dominion, though I will give you this. There will be no Alliance inspection or presence inside these bases, to preserve your security against any corruption we may still be dealing with. They will be as embassies, under Mandalorian law within and Alliance law without. Though inspection will be necessary and reports must still be made directly to the Battlemaster of the Council."

Zsaekriel injected the datapad as he spoke, sending the written proposals and contact information. As far as Zsaekriel was concerned, this was the most secure channel that the Alliance could create. He tapped his finger silently as he waited for Mandalore to see something. If the information was loading onto something Mandalore could see, he would no doubt skip to the label of folders titled "Foreign Policy".

"All of it goes without saying, and we can discuss our plans later. So we have an agreement, then, that our forces are alligned? That, with these worlds at your disposal, you will establish bases that will least disturb these communities if possible, and guard those territories as if they were your own? We will work together both offensively and defensively, and improve relations?"

Zsaekriel was pleased. This had started almost by finishing itself. These two men were on the same page before they even began.

 

[Johnnysaurus Rex]

"Agreed," Mandalore turned his head as some of the files were opened during the information download, "The Mandalorian clans will be glad to fight alongside your forces at any juncture and in any role."

While he had no real notion this meeting would go south, it was a weight off his shoulders that he was able to secure this alliance. He would immediately get this information into the hands of his people and start mobilizing their forces.