Chapter Twenty-One (Patreon)

Ali’ya stared at the holo-projection. Kalee floated in pale blue light, red dots highlighting Huk strikes and strongholds.

“They are attacking our ability to feed ourselves,” Khan Melumor noted.

“They know their capital is lost,” the Khagan agreed. “They will bleed us for it, but to remain in control is no longer their goal. They seek to wound us, to starve us for food and medicine. Then, when we are weak, they will strike again. We cannot let this happen.”

“Your fleets are not strong enough to contest the Yam’rii cruiser,” Master Bulq warned.

“They must be,” the Khagan replied.

“Not if we seek allies,” Ali’ya interjected.

“Allies?” Baatar Sheelal scoffed. With the death of Khan Edyo during the Battle of Khedive, the former Tarkhan was now in command of the capital garrison, hence the title of Baatar. “We have no allies. The Jedi refuse to send aid. The Republic, for all that we fought a war for them, refuses to take a stance.”

“It is for the best if the Republic does not intervene,” Master Bulq warned. “The Trade Federation has much power in the Senate, and our research indicates that they rely heavily on the Yam’rii for ores and exotic materials. If the Senate were to intervene, it would not be to our benefit.”

“Which is why we must seek allies outside of the Republic.”

“Mercenaries are expensive,” Master Bulq warned.

“I know Master,” Ali’ya replied. “I am able and willing to bear the cost.”

“More soldiers are well and good,” Khan Orza said. “But the problem is with our fleet, is it not? How can mercenaries aid us with that?”

Master Bulq’s sigh filled the call. “Why do I get the feeling I will hate your answer?” he asked.

“Because you know me so well,” Ali’ya smiled innocently. “Khagan, esteemed Khans. Do I have your permission to negotiate with mercenaries to secure a fleet and shock troops for the war?”

“Granted,” the Khagan agreed. “All negotiations will, of course, be reviewed before being signed. You have permission to negotiate.”

*

Seeing multiple Clan heads at once was not unusual. Mandalorians liked to move around, and even the most tied-down of Clan leaders tended to travel at least a few times a year. They ran into each other in Keldabe, on jobs across the galaxy, in black markets and during competitions. They met each other outside Mandalore’s few remaining academies, where their children studied and bonded.

What was unusual was seeing so many of them. Nearly all of them, at least among those who had yet to take a side between Mereel and Vizsla. There were Count Wren and Countess Itera, who leaned towards Kyr’tsad. There were Counts Eldar and Sharrat, who, though yet to take a side, favored the Haat’ade. There was Duke Kryze, who increasingly shared ties with the Evaar’ade, and Countess Gedyc who shared a similar position. Perhaps most strange of all was the man who had called the meeting. Nam Beroya, the head of Clan Awaud who held a position of staunch neutrality, though his disdain for the Evaar’ade was clear for all to see.

“Enough is enough Beroya,” Count Sharrat huffed, his buy’ce off and on the table. “Why are we here?”

“Perhaps it is best if I let her explain,” Count Awaud said, and pressed a button on the holoprojector. Immediately the blue light gathered, displaying a young Togorian. 

“Su’cuy, Mando’ade,” the projection declared. “Ner gai Ali’ya of Coruscant. I send this message to you with a plea and an offer. Currently there is a war on the planet Kalee, between the invading Huk--whom the galaxy know as the Yam’rii--and the native Kaleesh. The war began when it was discovered that the Huk were keeping Kaleesh slaves and using their eggs as delicacies.”

“WHAT?” Count Sharrat exclaimed, forcing Count Awaud to pause the message.

“Hutuun’yc demagolka,” Count Wren sneered. “Where is this planet?”

“Wild Space,” Count Awaud stated, appearing calm to all but those who knew him well. Though this was the fourth time he’d heard the message it never got easier. “Just past Muun space.”

“Not too far then,” Duke Kryze noted. “I assumed the rest of the message is an offer for our support?”

“Perhaps we might let the message play out,” Count Eldar suggested, and Count Awaud let the message continue.

“--using their eggs as delicacies. Currently we have been able to regain control of the planet, but lack the capacity to challenge their cruiser in orbit, or to prevent their bombing runs on the planet’s hospitals and farms. That is why I sent this message to you, the Clan Leaders of Mandalore. I can only hope that your desire to protect the young will outweigh your hatred of the Jedi, of which I and my teacher--Jedi Master Sora Bulq--are members. We came to this planet to investigate the rumors of slavery and, upon our discovery of the truth, took the findings to the Khans and Khagan of the Kaleesh. We have ever since been a part of the war effort. We are unable to ask for support from the Republic due to the interference of the Trade Federation. The offer is simple: I am willing to pay each Mando’ade who joins the fight against the demagolkase Huk a hundred thousand credits per year. I will pay an additional quarter-million credits per year for each warship larger than a light freighter. Lastly, for those who join within the next two months and remain until the end of the war, I will pay a million credits. While I am sure Republic Credits are not your favored means of currency, I hope the amount will assuage you. As proof of my ability to pay I have included the agreement I reached with Sir Largo Vaan of the International Banking Clan to handle payroll for this mission, up to a hundred billion credits.”

Duke Kryze spoke as soon as the message ended, cutting off a half-dozen exclamations. “Do the accounts check out?”

“They do,” Count Awaud said, and the holoprojector shifted to display the documents.

“We would be fools not to take this opportunity,” Count Gedyc said. “A million credits per Mando’ade--that would be enough to allow us to rebuild from the Dral’han.”

“Work with a Jetii?” Count Wren scoffed.

“We’ve worked with Hutts before,” Countess Itera pointed out. “And their name forms one of our most serious insults.”

“I have no love for the Jetii,” Count Sharrat said plainly. “But we cannot blame those currently alive for the misdeeds of their ancestors. Not when the stakes are sentient cannibalism.”

“Did Mereel and Vizsla receive a message?” Count Eldar asked.

“No,” Count Awaud answered. “This Ali’ya seems aware enough of our politics to realize that neither would be willing--or able for that matter--to focus their attentions elsewhere at the moment.”

“I was unaware that there were Togorians among the Jedi,” Countess Itara said. “Perhaps we should forward this message to their council as well. If the Jedi stole a child--”

“She claimed to be from Coruscant,” Count Sharrat pointed out. “It is more likely that she was born there.”

“Togorians do not often leave their planet, and even rarer are those that stay,” Countess Itara countered.

“There were the Three Clans,” Count Wren said.

“This is besides the point,” Count Awaud cut in. “Do we agree to this contract, or not? How many warriors shall we send, and who else might we recruit?”

“I will send my warriors, agreement or not,” Duke Kryze stated.

“As will I,” Count Gedyc said, immediately after.

“The money is worth more than a Jedi,” Count Wren stated. “And it keeps me from needing to pick a side for a while longer.”

“Aye,” Count Sharrat agreed.

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“Aye.”

“We are decided then,” Count Awaud said. “Let the Yam’rii face the Wrath of the Taung.”