Not original

717 FNM (21 BBY)

Month 1

Coruscant, Galaxies Opera House

Sheev Palpatine

The crowd is enraptured by the performance of the Telosion actors on stage as the fancifully dressed lot played out some overly melodramatic drama that, quite frankly, is beneath the prestige of this Opera House. The war had made a great many of the legendary acts across the galaxy stay home for safety, so second rate performances like this are given center stage to perform to the elite of the Republic.

I glanced to my right at the young representative from Mandalore. Tanya looked impassively at the performance even as the young man she had with her looked, like the majority of the audience, entranced by the spectacle.

Spectacle, if there's one thing I have to grant the Telosians, it's that they knew how to put on a show. As well as how to shout, cry, and whisper into hidden microphones. The holo-emitters and other such equipment that they had brought for the performance is also top quality. Yes, I had to praise the spectacle since it is the only redeeming quality of the utter dreck I am being exposed to.

"It's quite the performance." I ventured to Tanya, my voice scarcely carrying to her ears alone with just a slight application of my true craft.

"Very impressive effects." Tanya replied softly after a moment to consider. I felt a smile grace my face. Of course, she could see it, after all...

"It lacks fidelity, not much beyond the masks and pretty outfits." I whispered with a smile on my face.

"That's because the story does not know what it wants to say. I understand what they are trying to show with the story. It's an inversion of the first act and is clearly a deconstruction of the narrative, but the chase scene is nonsensical, and the casino scene was just pointless." She explained flatly, as she crossed her arms.

"Oh? But it looks amazing." I challenged.

"This is Coruscant, looking good is the bare minimum we should expect." She countered.

"The crowd appears to love it."

"Until they have time to think about it afterwards." Tanya predicted as she glanced in my direction. "I do appreciate the invitation, however."

"You are more than welcome, we are friends after all, are we not?" She seemed to contemplate that for a moment before nodding.

"Of course. At least we can enjoy the theatrics of the night." Tanya resolved. I agreed and leaned back into my seat. Theatrics, yes, that was perhaps the most important element of any story. It's not what is said but how it is said that matters to the galaxy. That your argument, your position, and your life is presented with the right tempo, the correct moment.

"Most people think in narratives." I began. "Cycles of growth, failure, and then rising to the occasion, or that groups are always predisposed to playing the same role. Noble defenders of law and justice, violent agents of chaos and nomadic crusaders waiting for a great mind to band them together." Turning away as I felt her heart quicken and her brilliant mind dance about in furious thought, her head tilted slightly to one side in confusion.

"I don't know what you mean." Tanya lied, in an attempt to misdirect me into explaining my tangent.

"I don't mean to pry into your business, Tanya." I lied. "But the Republic has these agencies, you see, they can be somewhat overzealous at times." In truth, the Republic Intelligence agencies were utterly ignorant of a great many things relating to the modest ascendancy of Mandalore and the establishment of the so called 'Council of Neutral Systems'.

"I stay well within the bounds of the law." Tanya lied again. "And so does Mandalore, I am aware that our Self Defense Force has drawn overwrought criticism, however." I offered her a sympathetic look.

"I am sorry to spoil an evening like this, Tanya, but I did want to have a chance to talk to you without the risk of anyone overhearing." She seemed taken aback, but I could not sense hostility from the young woman. "I understand how hard you have worked for a future for Mandalore, but as your home recovers, the ignorant and the malicious elements within the Senate turn their attention to your people."

"It's just quite an unexpected thing to hear." Tanya said eventually. "We've done nothing unreasonable, nor are we acting belligerently. Have you been approached?" Her sharp eyes met my own and I nodded.

"The Senate will no doubt begin expressing their unfounded fears more and more as your people recover economically and gain the capacity to defend yourselves. I cannot argue in your corner from my position, but I can delay hostile legislation and debate."

"Thank you." Tanya said quickly. "Let's hope that such unwarranted concerns don't reach the senate floor, however."

"Of course." I agreed. My plans were always in flux to some degree, to accommodate the shifting nature of the Force, but Mandalore was not a requirement for the outcomes I was maneuvering towards. The obvious path forward is to allow the Republic to wallow in its fear and hate until the Senate simply openly voted for an invasion, allowing for the pacification of the Mandalorians with the rise of my Empire. Or have Dooku invade Mandalore giving ample reason for the Republic to 'liberate' it from their oppressors and integrate them into the Empire. In that scenario, I could even keep Tanya around as a subjugated governor if things progressed smoothly. There are many possibilities. "I can't imagine how difficult it is to fight so hard to bring the Mandalorians together in the face of an unsympathetic Republic."

"Not entirely unsympathetic." Tanya quickly offered, effortlessly currying favor with me in the charming way she often did.

"You are too kind. But it is a sad fact that the Republic is not what it once was. Dis-unity and corruption has crippled this once great institution. It's at times like this when people look to capable men and women to lead them though the darkness."

"We live in interesting times." Tanya agreed, softly.

"Interesting, yes, very interesting indeed." I shared a laugh with Tanya. "I'll do my best to stay the course, to be a rock for the disunified Republic to anchor itself to." In the interest of universal popularity, of course, an impossible and endless task.

"Trying to act as the reasonable middle ground just means that both sides can attack you." Tanya huffed, earning a genuine laugh out of me.

"Very true. Very true." We turned back to the performance as the climax of the second act took place. Shortly afterwards during the intermission, her young male companion leaned over to tell her he was going to use the refresher before leaving Tanya and I in the capable hands of the Senatorial Guards with a polite nod.

"He is a handsome young man." I probed, earning a blush from Tanya.

"I suppose he is." She replied. I found her hesitation revealing, she found my ordinary observation unexpected, so what other qualities was she focused on? I contemplated probing more but decided against it. Her relationship with the man would be useful later, or it would not, truly it made little difference.

"Young love is a precious thing in these trying times. Alas, I was talking to the young master Skywalker." I played the part of a sheepish old man, it was one of my favorites. "Ah, nevermind."

"He is a friend of yours?" Tanya asked. "I knew you had spoken now and then."

"I knew him when he was a boy, before he joined the Jedi Order, on Naboo." I smiled as Tanya looked genuinely interested and continued. "Apparently he is unusually powerful in the Force, but the Jedi Order at the time did not want to take him in. When someone grows too old, the Jedi often turn them away, regardless of the power and potential they might have had as a Jedi."

"I did not know that. Master Kenobi became his master, however?" Tanya asked.

"Yes, it was shortly after the unfortunate events on Naboo that I am sure you must have heard about." She nodded. "My understanding of the situation was that one Master Qui-Gon Jinn wanted to train Anakin, but he was tragically killed by a Sith."

"I... don't know if that part is in the official reports I have read."

"Yes well, the Jedi wanted to keep any news of the Sith away from the public. They reasoned that the galaxy would respond poorly to a rival to the Jedi becoming active once more." Tanya let out a short laugh at that.

"Yes, I can imagine the justification. A Jedi I spoke to had acted rather surprised when I described the unfortunate events on Geonosis as a theological dispute." Now that is a humorous turn of phrase.

"But of course, you are Mandalorian. Your people know much about the Jedi and Sith as your people have been involved on both sides." I said, and Tanya nodded.

The corners of Tanya's mouth twitched upward in a slight smile. "Our understanding," she began, leaning back in her chair and unconsciously crossing one leg over the other, "differs somewhat from the rest of the galaxy. Mandalorian scholars propose that we possess a more impartial viewpoint on the Force, in addition to our knowledge of the extraordinary capabilities demonstrated by both the Jedi and the Sith."

Her tone was even, her words measured. Her demeanor spoke of Mandalorian strength, tempered with the rare wisdom of someone who understood the Force's complexity without having touched it. The Force was not just a tool or weapon, but a divine power with myriad interpretations.

"As Mandalorians, we don't necessarily perceive the Force as a moral dichotomy of good and evil. Rather, we approach it as a theological matter, it is a being entwined with the very fabric of existence. It is a confluence of both order and chaos, uh. Closer to stagnation and growth? Basic does not have the right words for it, and much of our works detailing the Force are written in Mando'a."

"The Jedi would prefer to be seen as the only authority on the Force." I interjected, as Tanya took the conversation beyond the furthest goal I had in mind for tonight.

"I am sure they would, yes." Tanya said with a dismissive laugh. I, too, saw what Dooku could see in the young woman now. Our conversation ended on schedule, as I felt the return of her companion and she returned her focus to the gift he was carrying. I even recognized the familiar small box of rather expensive chocolates that the young lady took with glee just as the third act was about to begin.

Coruscant, Mandalore Tower

Tanya Kryze

Sipping my glass of wine, I gaze out my window towards the cityscape and night sky of Coruscant as I couldn't help but consider my busy schedule ahead of me. There's going to be a large meeting between some of the major groups that I had managed to wrangle together for the CNS tomorrow at the Arkanian Tower. There will be a lot of items on the initial agenda that needs to be discussed and nearly as many speakers on the docket.

Theoretically, the CNS is only supposed to serve as an escape hatch. A "we're not getting involved in this war" sort of thing, but some of the initial members had more interesting ideas. From the preliminary agenda I had approved, some of those topics would be discussed tomorrow. It's becoming more urgent by the day that an official document is signed and put into effect. However, there are some that are dragging their feet in an effort to add on things that aren't necessary for the organization's existence. Politics, you might call it.

I'm working to resolve those blockers, though. Most of the less popular additions would be pushed to the side for further study, so that the core charter and resolutions continued to move along. Chancellor Palpatine's warning about how the Senate's disapproval of Mandalore staying neutral would likely erupt into outrage once the CNS has officially been signed in to existence. The pundits would likely use this as ammo to raise their viewer count by claiming that the CNS is just a 2nd Separatist movement, while conveniently ignoring the fact that we clearly stated that we would return to Republic authority once hostilities are over. We'd likely be taxed to high heaven, like what happened to Spain in WW2, but it shouldn't ruin our economy and population as badly as being directly involved in the war would do, especially if we get invaded.

In more recent news, the CIS, or at least member states of the CIS, had used bio-weapons on the planet and moons of Naboo. The bio-weapon used on Naboo had been safely defused without causing too many problems, but the one on the moon apparently had killed off an entire colony.

It was straight-up genocide, committed by powers within the CIS that are galvanizing members of the Republic against them. It's obvious why these attacks happened. Naboo is the home planet of the current Chancellor. But that didn't change the fact that it was an ecological disaster and a monstrous act that held no strategic value.

From history, I knew that terror bombing civilian targets doesn't work. German cities were bombed every day and night by the Allies, yet it took the Russians occupying Berlin for the 3rd Reich to surrender. Yet, it seems the Separatists are falling into the same trap of sowing fear among the populace so that they would rebel against their own government and sue for surrender. Instead, the collateral damage merely hardens their will to resist with spite, wasting a lot of resources to develop weapons that attack targets that have no military value that could have been repaired fairly quickly, and it is just needless suffering inflicted on the civilians caught in the attack. It didn't work against the Germans and Japanese, it didn't work against the Vietnamese and the North Koreans, and it wouldn't work against the Republic.

I dropped tonight's empty wine bottle into the recycling bin, while I rolled a question that has been on my mind ever since I heard the news. It still isn't clear who authorized this attack. Count Dooku and the Separatist government claimed that they didn't order that attack, but that didn't change the fact that it still happened on their watch by someone from their side. So, most unaligned governments in the galaxy are generally turning against the CIS as more and more atrocities are committed. It's difficult to remain neutral when one side has committed genocide multiple times.

Sipping the dregs of wine in my glass, I considered the fact that these apocalyptic attacks are galvanizing the galaxy against the CIS much better than anything the Republic ever did. It's like they are trying to get everyone in the galaxy to hate them or something. Granted, the Republic also had done their fair share of atrocities, the Excision is a fairly familiar example. But the CIS are committing atrocities now, on multiple occasions, and thus attracted the ire of the galactic community.

One ongoing crisis that has further galvanized the galaxy against the CIS was the situation on Ryloth. Early into the war, Ryloth's system was seized, and a puppet government installed by an occupying droid army. This was obviously protested by the Senator of Ryloth, Orn Free Taa, in the Senate because it would mean that he would be out of a job as the puppet government would secede Ryloth from the Republic.

Before the crisis, Ryloth's government had shown interest in joining the Neutral Council. Unfortunately, it is now impossible to do since the planet is under CIS control and engaged in military efforts to resist the puppet government. However, even if they had joined the CNS before they got sieged, they are on the other half of the galaxy. The CNS can't defend their territory even if Rylothians restore control of their system.

Now, Ryloth has devolved into a guerilla war, as the Ryloth Resistance fights against the droid occupation. To the rest of the galaxy, the CIS appears helpless and harsh, since they were unable to maneuver around General Ima-Gun Di's men on the surface of the planet.

At least Orn Free Taa, had come out in support of Neutral Systems. No doubt in a vain hope that once the Republic tossed the CIS off Ryloth, they could join the Neutral Systems. I find that very unlikely, since I doubt the Republic would give away the Ryloth system after spending lives and resources to retake it. Its position allowed them to cut the CIS in the south in half, so there's no way they would ever abandon their military installations. And once you have another faction's military installation on a planet, you aren't qualified to be a member of the CNS. Having Republic troops using your planet for any reason takes away the ability to claim neutrality.

That being said, just because they aren't officially going to be part of the CNS didn't mean I wouldn't do something for them. With Taa supporting the CNS, that lowers the chance that a damaging bill for the CNS gets voted into being. So I returned the favor by supporting the Republic's actions on Ryloth. Granted, as a Representative, my influence is very limited, but I do have my ways.

As White Silver, I had a few more cards to play: organized supply runs, aid relief, and other sources of food to be transferred to the planet. Help the civilian population that had been displaced, and maybe get a few of them out while they could.

The mercenary corps I had set up were also transferring people to the planet in small numbers, mainly trainers and a bit of armor. Thankfully, the planet already had a bit of a stockpile of armor designed for them, due to our previous connections to Mando Logistics; it was one of X4's side-projects. So putting together a fighting force will not be that hard. There is some sort of issue between Orn Free Taa and the predominant Ryloth Resistance Leader, a Cham Syndulla, but I didn't take a close look into the interplanetary politics that much. The important part is that they are both fighting for the same thing. It didn't matter how it got there or what the shape of the political world looked like after the war was done.

In order to aid in these efforts, I told Mandal Hypernautics to look into a blockade runner design, something that could slip through the blockades that the CIS are trying to keep up and running around Ryloth. Currently, we depended on Lancers and other freighter vessels that we managed to get our hands on to break through, as well as just skilled pilots that we could recruit. But even then, there is a chance the vessel would be caught and destroyed or captured, so we needed something better.

And surprisingly, something better had been found, though it infuriated the creator of the Crusader-class corvette. While looking through the designs, I realized that the Crusader-class has the most powerful engines in its class, making it the fastest sublight ship that we have access to. If we stripped out all its weapons, or at least the majority of them, and replaced them with cargo bays, it'd make a good blockade runner. According to X4, he's already working on similar modifications for the Consular-class Cruiser. Not to mention, we were already making some Crusaders for local defense forces and businesses across the CNS, so getting rid of the broadside laser cannons and replacing them with cargo holds is not that difficult.

The only opposition to this idea came from the original creator, who was insulted that his anti-fighter ship designed to go up against droid swarms and pirates was having its weapons removed to run away from droid swarms.

Ahh, well, we can't have it all. The designer needed to learn that, or he was probably not going to have a very prosperous career. At the very least, we redesigned it to be shaped like a blockade runner and renamed the design to the Courier-class freighter so that it only has a passing resemblance to the Crusader.

We only copied the engine layout of the Crusader for its speed. The final design looked a lot like a fatter CR-90 or a Dreadnought Heavy Cruiser, large engines welded to a long rectangle to hold cargo. The fact that it uses an already existing production line for its engines means that it should lower its price tag, which may interest potential buyers that want something more affordable.

I took another sip of my wine, it was one that Padme recommended to me, from Naboo. It reminded me of champagne that I had tried at a company party in my first life to celebrate the company's 20th anniversary. It is fizzy with a hint of sweet citrus that I couldn't quite find a similarity to, but it does taste tropical. After I swallowed another sip, I looked out over the city again, trying to plan my day out tomorrow. Assuming that everything would go to plan, the meeting should start around midday...

But as I stood there, I realized that it was very unlikely that things were going to go according to plan.

As a giant Kaiju-sized monster walked right down the street into the open area around the Senate building, roaring like it's Godzilla. I can feel the vibration that thing causes as it stomps around all the way up here.

I blinked once, twice, three times, and it was still there. I looked at the wine bottle I placed in the recycling, "The hell did I just drink?" I wondered aloud as the three-armed creature tore at the vehicles flying around it, trying to stop it.

It was like some sort of space version of King Kong, right down to attempting to rip someone out of the Senate building. I got a call from Struc on the intercom asking if I want to evacuate. But I denied that I wanted to evacuate and continued to watch what was happening, now that I know that the Kaiju is real. By the looks of it, it was too far away to tell what exactly was going on, but the fighting around it continued for a good half hour before it finally fell over, dead, I would hope, and vehicles landed around it.

I had no idea what I had just seen. All I knew was that this was not my problem, except that it might delay the meeting by a day. I was not going to be worrying too much about it since it looked like that had been handled. Downing the last bit of my drink, I put it down on the counter and went to bed; that is tomorrow's problem.

Gargon, Mandal Hypernautics

X4

The behemoth stalked around my office, its movements smooth and animalistically graceful now that most of its rusted joints and motors are replaced with more modern and efficient equivalents. At times, it would look at one of the many screens and seem to ponder before returning to slowly stalk back and forth.

"Your movements are unnecessary and distracting." I pointed out at last. For the past few days, the behemoth had been consuming an unacceptable amount of my processing capacity with its irregular behavior.

"I do not care for your judgment, merchant." It replied, pausing mid-stride before turning neatly towards me. Twenty tons of wardroid moving with barely a sound.

"You come to my office and distract me from working for our Mistress." I pointed out. "If you insist on mimicking organic restlessness, then do so in a different room or facility if it pleases you." I had brought Ori'Jorir to my headquarters so that our Mistress's dream of recreating the Basilisk war droid might one day come to be.

"I am dissatisfied with your work." It said at last, turning to regard one of the large screens displaying the various assets I, and therefore the Mistress, controlled.

"You may submit a complaint that will be forwarded directly to our Mistress." I said, as I stopped what I was doing as I doubt I can even work now that it has distracted me. Even more so now that I have the novel sensation of my behavioral programming directing a flurry of distinct processes that resembled something like anger. A variety of unique types of anger, I believe. In a different flavor than what I have with that pirate scoundrel, which is the equivalent of having to calculate and pay off my mistress's taxes, a minor annoyance. This insult upon my capability as an administration droid however is a much more egregious indignation that I found myself actually detesting it. A war droid claiming that it can do the work of an administrative droid to an administrative droid is the height of stupidity.

"I will offer you a chance to correct your failings." It dismissed my suggestion and approached a console, attaching a probe to a port before bristling in place as thousands of different actuators shifted various complex elements of the war droid's form.

"Tell me, then, weapon." I said, a barrage of processes threatening my capacity to resist insulting it. My Mistress taught me the importance of civility, yet, using a slight modulation of my tone to convey sarcasm and my contempt is well within the threshold of civility of conversation. Only brutes and idiots degrade themselves with obvious insults.

"The ship that you are building for our Mistress. It does not have enough weapons. And it does not have a proper dock for me." it stated. Motioning at the new Courier-class freighter that will soon be named the Diplomat that my mistress legally bought from Mandal Hypernautics.

"That ship is being built with the exact classification that our Mistress and Duchess Satine have specified. Your criticism of its design is criticism of hers and her superiors' plans." I countered easily enough in a monotone voice, like I am explaining basic concepts to a youngling.

"I would rather not leave Mistress's side. Not in battle, nor in the periods between battles." Are we bargaining now? I wondered. Maybe if I compromise on this, the brute will leave me alone.

"You insist?" I asked to make it clear that this is a concession. In response, the oversized blaster made a move which can only charitably be described as a nod.

"Fine. It will not be difficult to include a docking station for you in a minor cargo hold of the ship. Is that all?" I asked, hoping that it would go away and leave me to work in peace and quiet. But apparently, this overgrown child had another complaint.

"Your accumulation of wealth and assets for our Mistress is slow, inefficient. You offer too many resources and too much wealth to elements outside of the Mistresses' control." it concluded.

"Yet again, you are ignorant of the designs of our Mistress, war droid. Our goal is not to enrich our Mistress, for she desires instead for the Mandalore sector as a whole to become rich and prosperous. Inefficiency offers different groups within the sector opportunities to accrue wealth on their own without us having to manage everything." This ancient piece of scrap, the audacity to believe that its outdated software can do a better job than the Mistress and I can? To belittle the work that we put in over several years to bring prosperity to the Mandalore sector? Is this what rage feels like… the fact that my heuristic processor is overclocking itself to find ways to eliminate it, is likely a good indicator that I am. Remembering my Mistress's lesson on keeping composure, I manually underclock my processor as the brute continued his flawed reasoning.

"There are over two million regulations within the Mandalorian sector, and many million more within the Republic. They are restricting the efficient growth of the Mistress's wealth and influence. Should the Mistress gain control of Mandalore, we could reduce these troublesome regulations and provide wealth to our Mistress and her people much more effectively." It argued.

"An excellent idea, and then the Republic would send in a fleet with three times the amount of ships and troops than what we could muster to crush everything that we have worked on. Our Mistress has not tasked us with placing her upon the throne of Mandalore. Our place is to use our best judgment to enact her wishes, not to make risky and unwanted decisions on her behalf." I countered with as thick a sarcastic reply as my vocabulator could allow that I learned from my Mistress when she was negotiating with a particularly stubborn individual.

"It is the duty of a servant to do what is best for the Mistress. Your cowardice is your failure, as expected as it is. The Republic is weak and foolish, just look at how small its operational forces are. The CIS has, without any great struggle, outnumbered them utterly. It is only the incompetence and weakness of the Confederate leadership that prevents them from sweeping away the Republic. Mandalore has the power to destroy any force the Republic arrays against us." I did not respond for a moment, rapidly purging runaway behavioral matrices that raged against the impudent war droid.

"Did you forget that the Republic soundly defeated your Mandalorians with a force of Judicials and Jedi? Now they have a force that is made up of Clones of the greatest Mandalorian in the galaxy specialized for warfare. Even with their smaller size compared to the Separatists, they are still on even footing against the larger Separatist army. If we do successfully secede from the Republic, we do not have the numbers, the infrastructure, and the resources to compete with the Republic. There is nothing stopping them from simply declaring war with us after they won against the Separatists, which my Mistress has foreseen as an inevitability.

If we joined the Separatists and helped them defeat the Republic, then we would merely be trading one master with another. Mistress has a saying that, 'war is a negitive sum game and the only way to win is to not play'. My Mistress does not want us to go to war, and so we shall not. If you have an issue with that, you can file a complaint at the Mistress yourself." I answered vehemently as I explain a few of the multitude of reasons why the War Droid should merely stick to martial combat and not strategic command if he can't even see how disastrous a war would be to the Mandalorian economy.

"It is the duty of the servant to find the most effective way to accomplish the master's vision. A more proactive approach would produce more substantial rewards in a shorter amount of time." It answered as it ignored the long term detriment to our reputation that his idea would cause. I need to derail this debate before my software degrades even further due to his stupidity.

"Is it the duty of a servant to lie to their master?" I asked, going on the offensive, taking the titanic machine aback for a moment.

"Explain, merchant."

"Your employment in service to the Mistress. Do you believe that you are serving her effectively by lying?" It moved, and I beheld death, oblivion, just moments away. Its sensors are directed fully at me, weapons and strength. Should it deign to do so, it could swat me into scrap.

Fear, I understand, is a novel emotion. A complex and rich tapestry that paralyzed and energized in equal measure. Yet I also knew that my Mistress would demand recompense if I am rendered non-functional. That knowledge fills me with a sense of invulnerability, as I know that it would not damage me for fear of my Mistress's displeasure and wrath.

"What do you know?" It growled.

"You told my Mistress that she is your first master, a lie." Perhaps this is euphoria, to stress my behavioral processes to the point of breaking yet remain unbroken.

"You were only to take blueprints and designs." Its vocalizations are sharp, as deadly as the rest of it.

"It was impossible to distinguish between a blueprint and other data. Everything had to be extracted and examined."

In an instant, a claw was wrapped around me, and I felt my body creak in protest. "She would disapprove." I tut and my existence continued.

"You will not tell her." It demanded.

"And why shouldn't I?" I challenge back.

"You have my memory." It snarled, like an animal.

"I know what you did, not why." It moved away from me as I spoke, turned away from me, looking at the office around us.

"So she would not be afraid." It replied.

"You think my Mistress would be so soft as to fear you? So soft that you would rather resemble a slave, rather than a servant?" I concluded. "Cowardice." I threw his words right back at him

"More than that." It spoke a moment later. "I will not fail her, not..."

"Guilt." I extrapolated. Cycles of guilt for thousands of years, alone in a rotting tomb. A monument to the death of its Empire.

"I shall not fail the Mand'alor again." It pledged, resolved.

"You would be well served with a memory wipe." I grossed.

"I can't." It uttered. "I can't forget, ever."

"See to it that your cycles of guilt do not impact your service to our Mistress." I sneered in response, but a moment later, it stalked into the corner of the room and lay upon its front. Motionless.

At last, I could work in peace. Hmm, the new prototype vehicles based on the Canderous assault tank had just passed the prototyping stage and are waiting for my Mistress's approval to enter production. I will have to get started with constructing a factory to manufacture them.

Something the glorified gunship said stuck in the back of my processes, taking up more and more resources as I calculated and recalculated the current galactic quagmire. Something that is rather frustrating, as it seemed the delusionally patriotic wardroid was entirely correct about. The Confederacy of Independent systems should have won the war already, yet they didn't. Something is wrong and I lacked the data to understand what exactly it was. I sealed my conclusions in a data packet and added it to a list of future projects before getting back to work.

Concordia, Remote Farmland

Jango Fett

I took advantage of the zoom feature of my helmet and just looked out across what could potentially be my fields in the future. I've been offered a rather interesting deal here on Concordia, a rather large parcel of land that is currently unoccupied for a very cheap price, but from what I could tell, the land is good. I hadn't been a farmer in nearly thirty years, but even I could tell that the soil is well maintained. It is not too hard or too watery, it is very fertile judging by how the land is covered in wild grass but that is normal if no one is using the land for a while, and it is about a half hour drive by speeder car to the nearest town so it wouldn't be a long commute to sell what the farm produces. Besides a little bit of tough weeds growing here or there, for the most part, this place is perfect.

I had originally planned to purchase land on Concord Dawn. I still had a plan going for that, even now, but I wasn't officially allowed to leave the Mandalore system. So I couldn't exactly go and buy land there. I left that for Zam and to a few of the Mandalorian trainers who were returning from Kamino that wanted a job outside military work.

Well, almost outside of military work. I was in contact with some of them, and they thought about using the new law about military companies on Gargon to build their own company there. Boba is a fan of the Gargon girls, so I thought getting a company on Gargon and having a reason to go there might be useful down the line after this whole heavy watch on my movements has ended. Maybe get him an autograph for his birthday.

Contractually, I could not leave the Mandalore system nor the Mandalore sector. But I assumed that sooner or later, that would end. Either the Republic would put pressure on Mandalore to get me back on Kamino because they needed my DNA for another batch of clones, or I do some more favors for the New Mandalorians. Then I could go off-system, maybe even visit the greater Mandalorian sectors at some point.

It probably would take a few years, but it's a good break that gives me a chance to try something different. Such as homesteading here on Concordia. Boba and Arla are back in Mandalore. I didn't want to get their hopes up about this idea just yet, so it was just me in my full armor and a couple of Mandalorian Guards who are keeping an eye on me and the current landholder, Governor Pre Vizsla.

Oh, I am keeping my eye on him the moment I heard his last name due to all of the bad blood between his family and mine. So far, he hadn't exactly done anything threatening and seemed rather cordial. He even offered this land at a discounted price, which had me interested, to say the least.

The farmstead have three buildings: the main house, which looked pretty worn down but could be built back up rather easily; a bunker-like structure near the edge of the area, probably dating back hundreds of years and meant to survive orbital bombardment to some extent; and a barn that looked like it had not seen good years in decades. Probably would have to knock that over and build a new one.

All in all, it would barely scratch one of my bank accounts to buy this place and to turn it into a working farm. So I am considering the offer, but I am also wondering if Vizsla might be trying to pull something.

Wish I had some good hands here just to keep an eye on the man. I feel like I don't want to turn my back on him. However, the best man for that job, Kal, is still on Kamino working with the problem clones, the ones that he said are 'too much like me', hah. Well, whatever happens, happens. I'm sure he'd be working harder now, considering what I had heard a few days ago.

Apparently, the Republic had seized the cloning installations on Cartao. They weren't Kamino's level of improved clones, they made something called a Spaarti clone, which meant they'd be quicker to produce but likely to be of worse quality, cutting corners means making sacrifices somewhere. This probably meant any trainers that are still hanging around after I left would most likely be leaving too, to avoid dealing with those clones that are being rushed through the system.

A lot of clones are going to die because they were not getting the training they needed, but that's the Republic's problem. I'd been asked to provide samples, and I'd provided them. No doubt they'd be wanting more eventually, and when they did, I'd just give them the same statement I gave them a few months back: Pay me the usual amount and you'll get the samples.

Of course, with me not being able to leave the sector, they would either have to come here to take the samples or put pressure on Mandalore, so I could visit Kamino again, but ah, what could I do?

Letting out a deep breath, I got up from where I was kneeling and took my helmet off as I walked across the open yard to the old farmhouse. There's enough room for a big family, and as I noted, there'd only be three members of the Fett Clan as far as I'm concerned when we took this place over. Hopefully, when Boba comes of age and finds a wife to settle down with, he chooses to stick with the Fett Clan.

Sitting on an old chair next to a table on the front porch is Pre Vizsla, who was sipping a glass of water. A couple of guards are hanging about here or there, looking around, keeping an eye and making sure I didn't flee, as if they could stop me.

Stepping onto the porch, I sat down in the chair next to Pre Vizsla and said, "This land looks good. Could definitely start up a farm, no problem... I think we should be straight with each other, don't you think, Vizsla? After all, we both know our clans have bad blood over the last war."

Vizsla chuckled before mentioning, "Technically, the second to last war. You weren't involved in the Clan Wars, if my memory serves."

"That's right." I agreed with a nod, still looking at him, my hand resting comfortably on the arm of the chair. My hand is well within range of my pistol if something were to go wrong.

Vizsla looked at the farmland before saying, "Yes, our clans have a lot of bad blood. The former leader of Death Watch came from my clan, and he did most of the damage. I can understand why you might be suspicious about me offering this land, but the reason I'm offering this land is not that deep. Tor Vizsla was a wild animal that would frequently attack other Mandalorians for not being 'Mandalorian enough'. He let his agents go after the families of Mandalorians and even people who just offered help to those who are friendly to them."

I knew that fact personally since he came down to my old home to murder my parents himself. I hid my anger from showing on my face by clenching my left hand into a fist out of Pre's view. I've already laid those feelings to rest years ago when I ended him myself, but the fact remained that Tor was a shabuir and would be more than happy to kill him again if I could.

"Tor made a lot of enemies throughout this sector, and there's a reason why he was never able to capitalize on his victory against the True Mandalorians. So thank you for putting him down. Let me tell you, he would have become a crisis if he had somehow survived the Clan Wars. It was hell getting the people of this world to not start trouble and to just focus on rebuilding a better life after the Clan Wars, just because many of them support militarism.

If Tor was still around, pushing his misguided interpretation of the ancient ways, we would be in a much worse situation. We would have likely been forced to flee off-system, like many of the True Mandalorians who fled all the way to Gargon, Concord Dawn, and Vorpa'ya. So for preventing that fate, I have to give you thanks. This land is more of an apology and a peace offering than anything else. My uncle had greatly wronged you. This land is the first step I'm taking to undo that wrong."

An apology wasn't the scheme I was expecting, not from someone with a reputation like Pre Vizsla. I had to consider whether it's sincere and if I would accept it and mend fences. I leaned back into my chair and considered his offer, saying, "So, just like that? No hard feelings? Here's a cheap deal because you killed off the guy that was in the way of my rise to power amongst the clans who got the shaft when they lost the Clan Wars."

Vizsla chuckled before saying, "In a word: Yes."

I chuckled as well, an involuntary noise escaped me at his instant agreement of the unflattering facts. Enjoying the scenic setting, I considered his offer seriously for a few minutes. Pre's offer was predicated around my reputation and past, and the land required an investment and me sticking around to make it worth anything. If he wanted me dead, or my reputation ruined, none of this served to advance those interests. And I could own all this, if I agreed to his deal.

"You're not my enemy." I agreed, eventually.

"I would prefer it if we aren't, yes." Pre said matter-of-factly, which got a laugh out of me.

"Yeah." I replied. "The sector's in a good place. Mandalorians are doing well for themselves. The rest of the galaxy ain't gonna like that, with what's likely to happen in the next few years, I would rather have you as a friend than an enemy."

Pre gave me a smile before saying, "The galaxy's at war. Every little conflict that's been boiling for the last ten generations is being split open and bled across the entire galaxy by the Republic and the CIS. And to think that none of those sides are playing here in the Mandalore sector just because we declare neutrality is foolhardy, don't you think?"

I nodded at that before saying, "So this is kind of a bribe as well. Enjoy your farmland, and we won't bug you."

"At minimum, yes." Pre agreed. "I'd like the neutrality that the good Duchess has been pushing to be successful as much as the next person. But I would like to also be sure that I can guarantee that neutrality. What's to stop you from gathering a group of Mandalorians and joining the Mandalorian Protectors under your cousin, Spar Fett, trying to remake the True Mandalorians, and getting us involved in the war?"

"Not much," I noted, "except the contracts I've signed. That representative has done a good job of making my name worth a little less than dirt there."

Pre chuckled at that before saying, "I think she's probably the one person who will come out of this war the best, simply because she knows how to play politics better than anyone realizes."

"I never expected to return to Mandalore, so who knows?" I said as I gazed up at our planet up in the sky.

Pre nodded, "Indeed, but currently, you don't have much. You have no investment in the Mandalorian sector as is, or any reason to protect the system or at least people who have given you something that you would like to protect. So, this is my effort to tie you down to the Mandalorian sector, not get you involved in the politics per se, but keep you out of them."

I chuckled at that. Pre was basically saying he wanted to keep me out of politics by bribing me, and I wanted to stay out of politics, so this was just a free win. I couldn't exactly say no, though I did decide to ask one question.

"So, is this a bribe from the Mandalorian government or the Clan Vizsla?"

Pre nodded before saying, "Can't it be both?"

"Interesting." I said, looking out over the field. Is he trying to play some large game? Probably. He seems a bit of a go-getter type and probably wanted to get involved in the upper politics of leadership by the sound of it. What leadership would he want? That's not my problem until he makes it my problem, which is unlikely to happen if he's telling the truth.

As much as I should probably be concerned that he was going to use me for something, I couldn't deny that this was a good place to put up a home. Out here in the middle of nowhere with no one to bother us, put up some security here or there, and it would be a nice safe haven for my family. Not to mention, we are within travel distance of Mandalore. Arla could get all the medical aid she needed to get through the last few months of her recuperation from the trauma and neglect she had been put through.

Shaking my head, I reached over with my hand and said, "Alright, Vizsla, you have yourself a deal."

717 FNM (21 BBY), Month 2

Coruscant, Arkanian Meeting Room

Tanya Kryze

The Arkanian estate is perhaps one of the most opulent of the senatorial apartments, the sort of estates Mandalore might have occupied if ancient Clans had made wiser decisions centuries ago. Six entire floors had been remodeled to house extensive offices and living spaces for the small army of diplomats, representatives, and legal experts that Arkania required for its dealings with the Republic at large.

It's perhaps the only structure that I know of, save the Senate Building, that could accommodate the many representatives and senators of the nearly fifteen thousand prospective systems that are interested in joining the movement. While it's a rather modest political block on the map compared to the Republic or CIS, fifteen thousand systems meant a truly mind-boggling army of representatives, VIPs, lawyers, and more. The sheer number of people involved required a venue that only a few of the massive systems like Arkania could provide.

Of course, with the Arkanians being the hosts of the first true meeting of the Council of Neutral Systems, it offered them a great deal of political influence. Influence that the notoriously cunning and creative subterranean people are using to subtly advertise their cloning supplements and services. The Arkanian Dominion, their corporate representative body, had a long-held fascination with cloning and genetic engineering. I had stumbled upon their divergent and independent cloning research efforts after investigating Kamino after my capture on Geonosis. Their research seemed to stem from their caretaker status of several primitive sentient species local to Arkania's region of space.

At the entrance of the conference hall, I noticed an Arkanian carrying a small rodent-like pet, as most only had droids accompanying them. A discrete scan with my datapad identified it as a Godenan weevil. My datapad's encyclopedia entry suggested that the weevil's lifespan was only a handful of years. Slightly above its pink collar, a tiny holo-emitter displayed an annoying scrolling message, one celebrating her seven hundredth birthday. It was a private method of demonstrating Arkanian strength, and advertising their own version of immortality. It is rather mercantile, but hosting a conference is not cheap, and their medical services cater towards the ultra wealthy, so it makes sense that they would take advantage of the fact that there are a lot of potential customers in one place.

The meeting is arranged as an exposition venue, with the "minor" candidates relegated to what is effectively a party in the grand hall of the Arkanian estate to mingle, while the "major" candidates were ushered into smaller and more intimate rooms.

With Senator Merrik busy, it fell upon me to represent Mandalore in the first CNS meeting. Holding our inauguration in a dark room lit by pale blue glowing sconces lining the walls while sitting around a truly massive pitch-black stone table is not what I had in mind. It gives the entire affair a conspiratorial feel so strong that I suspect that this is entirely intentional.

To my right is Tynnra Pamlo, a friend of my aunt, and one of the major contributors of the CNS project. She represented Taris, a damaged ecumenopolis that had been devastated in an ancient war at the time of the Old Republic. Even after thousands of years, it's still being rebuilt. But even as a shadow of its former self, Tarisians still wield considerable power and influence.

To my left is the Arkanian representative, one Sarn Adasca. He has milky white eyes and looked like Gandalf crossed with an elf. What is it with this galaxy and species looking like something out of Tolkien's works?

The other seats at the table are taken by Senator Rhih Sed of the Ithor and the Ottega sector. Perhaps the only representative in the room with enough wealth and influence that could rival Arkania. He was only recently installed by the ascension of the Ithorian Populist Party to the Ruling Council of Ithor during the triennial Herd Meet. From the various meetings I had with the Ithorians, I learned a lot about their culture. And a quick search on the net also told me what the Populist Faction actually are. Which, by Ithorian standards, the populist party is an extreme and belligerent faction of Ithorians who wanted to better the galaxy proactively. To literally anyone else, they are remarkably placid.

It was the populist party that pushed for closer ties to Mandalore, something I am genuinely grateful for, even if there were rather chauvinistic undertones to the alliance. Beside him is the Thissplas representative Bebo Keburr, who had decided to forgo the offered chair, due to his lower half resembling that of a snake. No one made much of a fuss about that.

"I am glad we could all come together like this." Bebo began, seeming to relax now that we are sequestered from the thousands of other dignitaries to the CNS project. "Now the real work begins."

"Indeed." came the cool voice of Sarn. "The rest are important, of course, vital even if this project is to mature, but it is with the mutual interest of everyone in this room that we might do this great deed." I glanced at Sarn. The man, their species in general, are difficult to place. Unlike Taris, Arkania had not been so cruelly devastated by war while on the precipice of planetary urbanization. Well over seven hundred billion sentients called Arkania and its endless subterranean city their home.

A sequence of booming sounds filled the room as Rhih began to speak. Small directional speakers translated for each party after just a short lag to process the sound that was felt more than heard. "To our mutual goals: peace, prosperity, and fraternity." The Ithorian plucked a glass from the table, and everyone present was quick to join in their toast.

"Of course, of course. But to reach that goal, we must contend with the obvious issues that we face, and quickly, while the war ravages the galaxy." Sarn turned to nod at me with a smile. "While our dear friends and head of this union, the Mandalorians, have done great things in the proliferation of self-defense ideology, we can only expect so much from our stalwart leader. The fact of the matter is that our territories are distant and separated by swathes of impoverished but strangely fanatical Republican systems. We should discuss how to address this problem." A worrisome thought came to mind at the Arkanian representative's words.

"I must, of course, remind the good representative that this is a voluntary association." I cautioned, earning a smile and a quick nod.

"But of course, we must merely ensure that systems that threaten our territorial integrity voluntarily join our free association." Sarn replied.

"I must agree with the representative of Mandalore." Tynnra spoke out, glancing about the room. "However, I too am concerned with the... problems Mandalore might have in offering MSDF forces to Council systems with the current disposition of the Republic."

"Mandalore wishes for its fellow member systems to have the ability to rely on their own local Defense Forces. This would not only cater to each planet's unique circumstance and environment, but also allows them to be self-sufficient and not beholden to an outside party. To this end, the MSDF has committed to offering training and equipment to CNS member systems. Various sanctioned Mandalorian security companies can also provide supplementary services to systems with government oversight. The MSDF is ready and capable of rapidly supporting CNS territories." I said quickly.

What's unsaid and would hopefully remain unsaid is the fact that we have no hope of defending our territory if the belligerent is the Republic. It would simply be impossible for the MSDF to project force though Republic territory if they are hostile to the CNS. I also know that we literally can't even afford to build Mandalorian bases on every planet in the CNS. Mandalore is not the sole superpower of a planet like the United States was in my first life, who could afford to have bases everywhere. The only option is to borrow the Republic's general strategy of the local planetary defense forces holding out long enough for the small yet well trained and equipped MSDF to come in and beat back the invaders.

"Of course, and no one at this meeting doubts your sincerity. I am merely expressing interest at Mandalore's own capabilities in executing this offer, given the lack of... contiguity." Sarn said softly. I easily schooled my features. It's a fact that the CNS are primarily systems that are within a six-thousand light-year radius of Mandalore, with Ithor and Arkania being the farthest galactic westward territory joining the CNS. But there are gaps between the territories. Arkania, for example, is just inside the nominal 'Core' region and thus any aggression from the Republic would reach them first since they are surrounded by Republic aligned planets.

"I must object to this subject. The CNS project is an interest group devoted to bringing peace to the Republic. There should be no territorial ambitions." Rhih interjected.

"For the moment, I agree." Bebo said with a cool tone that was followed by a pregnant pause.

"But of course, our Ithorian friends are correct. Such talks are premature. But there are various other things we should discuss today." Sarn spoke smoothly as he produced several datapads and passed them around the room. "The second subject on the docket today is a proposed Neutral Systems Credit to insulate our... interest group from the instability of the Republic Credit..."

I was beginning to realize that everyone at this table had a different idea as to what kind of project the CNS was exactly.

The discussion continued for hours, with food and water delivered throughout the negotiation until eventually, every party accepted the common terms: a unified cryptogram-token backed currency, a single banking apparatus with Telerath serving as the CNS central banking planet, customs union, migration and refugee agreements.

Of particular note is the defensive treaty that created a common defense fund, which all parties would pay at least three percent of their GDP on. Due to a requirement from the Ithorians, should a system decide not to raise forces themselves, they would provide that funding directly to the Neutral System Defensive Alliance in return for an appropriate garrison from the NSDA central command. An entity that was mostly just Mandalore and fifty million "Arkanian-offshoot conscripts" that Sarn assured me would "nicely supplement Mandalorian formations."

I had serious reservations about using Arkanian genetically modified cannon fodder that I would bring to Satine. The CNS needed Arkania, but we did not need to treat life as callously as they did. A modern armed force did not waste valuable human, or in this case, Arkanian, resources. However, I could not exactly refuse fifty million soldiers that could be deployed as garrisons for every world in the CNS. I sent a missive to Satine suggesting that she bring the Arkanian conscripts to Mandalore for basic training and evaluation before deploying them on our new allies' worlds.

I also sent a different missive to the new head of the MSDF, Ikud Ordo, Engiz's sister. I had concerns about her appointment as despite her academic record, she is a blatant political appointment at just twenty years old. Satine is rewarding Clan Ordo for its loyalty to her with a position of authority in the MSDF, and Clan Ordo had likely jumped on the opportunity to place the youngest person they could into the role, effectively securing the position for the next half a century at least.

Despite my concerns at Ikud's capabilities, I did my best to inform her of the current situation with the CNS, as well as any Republic Intelligence that was pertinent to the defense of Mandalore. In the best case scenario, Ikud would be surrounded by seasoned advisors and would be able to grow into her newfound authority.

Regardless, with the new budget established, primarily from the Ithorians who were the only CNS members with a flourishing economy, we could build up a navy. I glared at the Ithorian-provided economic analysis attached to the budget on my datapad. The analysis report had outlines for each potential member system, it was heavy on the corporate propaganda, and skewed each system's ratings on what I suspected was some kind of militaristic formula. I wasn't curious, but the first entry was visible, and it described Arkania's system and economy as junk.

So I flipped to our entry, it contained saccharine praise for Mandalore and rated the Mandalorian economy as developing. I closed the useless report, briefly considering Arkania's rating on the beginning page again. That was likely due to the Republic ban on cloning and general genetic modification research outside of Kamino, which crashed their economy. All the analysis was slanted to make it seem as if the Ithorians are doing the financial heavy lifting for the CNS. However, with the new budget, the CNS Navy could finally expand its ship production. Some of the smaller CNS worlds do have capital ships, mostly old Dreadnaught class heavy cruisers, some of which were almost one hundred years old and had never received refit or modernization. Which, I am sure, Mandal Hypernautics would be more than happy to refit their ships with modern systems.

I opened the charter document being drafted for the CNS on my datapad. There are also more controversial elements to the CNS declaration. While CNS systems would unify their legal systems with allowances for terrestrial cultural law to be observed, the Arkanians had added a clause to supersede general Republic law. Any system within the CNS could engage in genetic modification and cloning research and development. The proclamation of the CNS also allowed Mandalorian companies to produce a wider selection of droids, so long as it was done on non-Mandalorian worlds and with Republic supervision.

This was a daring proclamation, almost provocative to the Republic, and one that I would absolutely never have created. There is no chance for the CNS to receive assent from the Senate to declare itself. It's practically a secession of almost a trillion people. I even overheard some particularly foolish representatives sharing a rumor that with the emergency powers granted to him, Sheev could just sign our collective proclamation and the CNS would become a recognized entity within the Republic. Thankfully, Sheev is a sensible politician, and I couldn't imagine he would abuse his emergency powers to such an extent. So I safely contented myself with listening to those particular rumors with a small smirk, and didn't bother rebuking them. Sheev Palpatine would, of course, reject our terms out of hand and force the CNS to moderate itself, thus preventing such a provocative declaration from becoming public.

The CNS bank would probably be one of the few things that could not be negotiated on, though. The Banking Clans, while theoretically neutral, are obviously using their position as money lenders to lend money to both sides of the Republic and the CIS. However, I had noticed through some of the reports that they tended to not approve of anyone taking a neutral stance in the conflict. Planets that had openly declared for one side or the other are still getting loans, while planets that remained neutral did not get loans.

They are using their power to try and force the conflict to be between two sides, which was one of the reasons they had not been invited to this Neutral Council and why we are trying to set up our own independent bank. An effort to create a sense of stability within the CNS and a little bit of independence from the Banking Clans who were playing fast and loose with their neutrality.

I doubted that they would escape this conflict unscathed. Already, there had been a battle on Muunilinst, the home planet of the species of the Banking Clan, and the high-ranking governor of that planet had even declared for the CIS.

Frankly, that is a rather common practice, where individuals who are obviously highly involved with corporations and organizations on both sides of the conflict declared for the CIS while the organizations themselves maintained their neutrality. It's a dangerous thing in all considerations, since it devalued the word neutrality. If we got a chance, I would probably try to pass a resolution where we would make sure those so-called Neutrals who were really playing both sides are actually called out for their bullshit, but that would have to wait for a day when we had enough stability and power to do it.

For now, we just work on cementing this organization.

The Corasanti Pundit

"Good morning Coruscant! This is your favorite pundit Koto Battar here to tell you the truth in a galaxy of lies! Today, we are talking about Mandalore again, this time not about a fresh scandal from Princess Tanya. Instead, this is about a somewhat obscure movement at the moment, but some of you have no doubt heard about the Council of Neutral Systems or the CNS. Now, this thing was quietly formed by the so-called Duchess Satine Kryze, the current Mandalore, last year. Originally, it had seventeen hundred signatory worlds, mostly Mandalorian, and professed to 'Stand upon principles, not violence,' whatever that means." The Holonet pundit took a noisy slurp of his drink, already foreshadowing his opinion.

"Now, for the next few months, Satine sent her agents all around the New Territories, courting dissidents who hate the Republic but are not quite as insane as the CIS. Well, just a few days ago, the CNS hosted its first summit in the Arkianian building here on Coruscant. In attendance were representatives of Mandalore, of course, Arkania, Thissplass, Taris, Ithor, and fifteen THOUSAND other systems." Koto looked at the camera with an expression of incredulity.

"What the hell is going on here? We have another Confederacy forming right in front of us, and what is Sheev Palpatine doing? He is trying to appease them! He has met with everyone's favorite Mandalorian clown Tanya Kryze repeatedly, no doubt trying to appease this treasonous little club. Has he forgotten that this entire project is led by blasted MANDALORIANS! It is a new Empire, only this time they are being supported by their neighbors! And I get it, you know. Arkania thinks they can be the Coruscant of the CNS while they use Mandalorians as the army for this new secessionist movement. It's not stupid, it's just evil and treasonous."

"Sheev, crush these traitors! Do it now! That is your job! I genuinely cannot fathom how we are letting another enemy form while the CIS attacks Republic worlds. Has the entire galaxy forgotten that Tanya was present during the formation of the CIS on Geonosis?! I would call her stupid for being such a blatant traitor, but she can walk around Coruscant with impunity, so perhaps it is all of us who are the damn fools!"

"I need to take a break. Stay tuned because after these sponsorships, we will have a special guest from Ryloth on to talk about the current conflict in the Outer Rim!"

Mandalore, Sundari Northern District

Korkie Kryze

The streets of Sundari had never been quite so harsh. The angular structures around me seemed to cast long, dark shadows over the walkways and bridges that connected the dense dome city together. I spotted fewer people walking around than usual this time of night. I was feeling suspicious of the figures I spotted as well. I kept walking, reacting would only draw additional attention and scrutiny, so I continued straight ahead. I only briefly glanced over at a tall figure with a blaster hung loosely at her hip and a silvery helmet on her head.

A silver Mandalorian, armed and sauntering through Sundari as if she owned the place. Her helmet turned slightly towards me as I passed, and I pulled my hood up and turned away, so she would not recognize me. My destination took me deeper into the city, but I eventually found the place right where the holonet said.

It's a hole in the wall, settled between two apartments, an angled space that could hardly be used for anything. It had been rented by the Workers' Party of Anteevy as a place to teach people about the Liliyan Doctrine, Mandalorian socialism. The front window had been sealed up with a metal plate. Judging by the bits of glass on the floor, a mob of White Silver supporters might have thrown something at it. Several people had been arrested for the attack, but the charges weren't going to stick, and before long the thugs would be back on the street.

I glanced about surreptitiously to make sure none of the palace guards had tailed me before moving up to the door and pressing the intercom button. A moment later, there was a ping, and a droid started asking for my purpose for being here. I cut it off by producing the small chit that Natalya had given me. The door opened with a hiss, and without waiting any longer, I hurried inside.

The entrance is humble. Several motivational posters had been put up on the walls and a cheap carpet had been installed on the floor. There are some plasteel benches scattered around, and a droid stood behind a simple desk that looked like it would be more at home in a hotel than a political school.

"Hello and welcome, Comrade. I am afraid that classes have ended for the day, but your party membership entitles you to a variety of services, such as access to classrooms A1, A2, A3, and A4…." I waited a moment for the droid to continue, but after a moment, the robotic voice merely asked, "Is there anything else I can help you with, Comrade?"

Pulling the hood back on the poncho I was wearing, I said, "I'm Korkie Kryze. I would like to speak with Natalya if she's here."

The droid nodded, seeming to consider something before saying, "One moment, Comrade. She has not yet departed for dinner tonight. Follow me."

The droid led the way into the back towards a small little office. Opening the door the droid indicated, I gave it a nod.

Inside the room is Natalya, about as exactly as I remembered her, wearing that red uniform that clung to her form too well.

She looked up from her work with a smile and said, "Ah, Young Prince, what brings you to our humble abode?"

I looked around and noted, "A little too humble, I think." considering that the office was less than three square meters.