Private A Friendly Discussion

[Yuri Maji]

KESTRI | TOR VALUM
TAGS: Carduul Akahl

---

YOUNGBLOOD​

Things were finally beginning to look up for the Hound, finally falling into place... only for stuff to go wrong once again. The Ironworks was almost ready for full production once more, Vara Rasha was doing well with her training and lessons, but Yuri had grown accustomed to things never going the way he wanted. Baby was gone, destroyed on Ryloth with another piece of his childhood and heritage up in flames. The cost of everything was quickly escalating to astronomical proportions, putting more strain on his situation.

To make matters worse, an old contact reached out to him. A reminder of the past he left behind with an equally upsetting threat attached to it. A trade made years ago for a quick fix that would likely see him shot if any of the others were to get wind of it.

So the Hound did what he usually did when he couldn't figure out what to do.

He went to partake in some self-destructive tendencies... or would have, if he even got so far.

Outside the Broken Skull Tavern, the Hound crashed into the streets with a few of his vode close behind to beat him into a pulp. No armour, not weapons aside from the pistol on his thigh, Yuri stood little chance against three armoured warriors. Odds he was used to dealing with. "Listen boys, it's all a-" He couldn't finish with his explanation as a Beskar fist smashed against his maw, sending him tumbling to the ground. Alcohol made his mind spin longer than he would have liked, and made the bleeding far worse. But he didn't let the attack slide. He wanted to destroy himself on his own terms.

With a snarl he leapt to attack one of the warriors, but another quickly dragged him off and pinned him to the wall outside. <"Hold him up. Karkin' traitor ain't walking out of here alive."> One of them spoke with rage in his voice. Yuri struggled in vain to free himself, only to nearly fold in half as a hard punch was thrown against his core. One hit after the other, they took turns to beat him up.

Yelps, snarls and coughs rattled the Hound nearly as much as the kicks and punches.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tor Valum, Kestri
Tags: Yuri Maji​

---

Kestri was still a largely unexplored place for the crusader. Though he had proclaimed his aid, and in turn garnered the support of many to the newly-shared cause, there were still plenty others who would still feel a subtle sense of disquiet when he neared. A mixed bag—but still better than what he could ever have expected. The looks or off-temperaments were not nearly as much as he would have believed. Thus, slowly, he had taken to exploring more and more of the haven that had seen so much between outings. No matter what veiled adversity stalked his steps, he was prepared to bear it all.

Strangely enough, there was such adversity lying in wait as he aimlessly wandered the streets of Tor Valum… yet, it was not directed at him. The sound of crashes, yelps and snarls drew his attention, punctuating the brisk air in an unmistakable commotion. His gait had swiftly changed to be a stride, rounding the corner to hear and see in the distance a group of three relentlessly beating upon but a single, unarmored Shistavanen.

The last time he had seen a bout being done in a bar, he had done nothing to prevent it- instead taking joy in the fact he had seen so many different Mandalorians together interacting. In his eyes, there was nothing wrong with a bit of rowdiness in their culture, though he was altogether not used to the idea of such disorganized brawls. But this- this wasn’t rowdiness, nor a simple brawl with fisticuffs. This was cowardly, seeming little better than a streetside mugging. Were they not Mandalorians? What’s more, that figure in question was one he certainly recognized by now.

His body moved before his mouth could even produce words of disbelief and protest. The subtle clink of armor and the flowing motion of a haft’s blunt end made several sudden cracks! across the armored bodies taking potshots. The song of beskar reverberated against armor, certain to draw a nasty bruise or ache upon the body beneath. A relatively small price to pay, with what murderous words they were spouting. Carduul typically hated taking up arms of any kind against his kin. Still, if it was in service to another, he believed it cancelled out—if the crusader recalled his studies, there were supposed to be lawkeepers like Rook about. Surely there would be no issue filling in.

“What is the meaning of this foul play?” Was the sharp, venomous query, just as his ever-present weapon hefted into both hands with a deliberate pace about. “That unarmored kin is being assaulted in the streets without care for honor, decried a traitor upon this ground?” Bold words to make. T’was true, he had little knowledge of Yuri Maji asides from his mother’s fate, and subsequent brief participation in the renewed crusade. Although, now he had fought with him upon the same field, and yet believed his heart to be true. He could think of many others more befitting of the title ‘traitor’ than the Hound. The polearm flourished, finding its pointed end directed towards the armored group. “...Begone with you, all.”

The man no longer held a title, that much was certain. Despite that, he didn’t need it to act as how he believed a Mandalorian should.

 

[Yuri Maji]

The beatdown continued for a few moments as Yuri tried to break out of the restraint, though the grip and intoxication caused his mechanical arm to simply halt halfway in changing to something more useful. He resigned and simply took the hits until an unknown saviour decided to smack his attackers around. Yuri dropped to the floor in an instant, his head lifting to see who his saviour was.

"... Great." He grumbled. While Carduul chased the others off, Yuri tried to get his arm back into shape. Still decently drunk, Yuri leaned back against the wall and stared up at Carduul through blood and a swollen brow. "I was handlin' it." He groaned, finally getting his arm to collapse and look like an arm again. "Didn't need your help." He continued, his voice as sour as his sneer while standing up. He turned to flee into the bar, but decided against it and simply struck up a cigarette. Every shift or move drew pain and protest, but it didn't stop him from putting on a face of defiance.

Fixing his hoodie and the holster on his thigh, Yuri stumbled past Carduul towards his home. "Don't you got... I dunno, a squad to send on a suicide mission?" He cringed internally at his terrible attempt to insult the man, but didn't let it show as he slammed his shoulder into Carduul's in passing. Normally he wouldn't bother with the petty attitude, but Carduul had stumbled right into Yuri's attempt at being an idiot and was going to suffer the consequences.

Still, even the Hound couldn't get it over his heart to be entirely rude. He came to a halt and glanced over his shoulder, nearly falling over in the process. "Thanks, though." He grumbled, strained in his forced show of gratitude.

Carduul Akahl

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tor Valum, Kestri
Tags: Yuri Maji​

---

And so the cowards turned tail and ran, just as he thought they would. It was for the best—the last thing he needed to be doing was stirring up trouble in the streets of a supposed haven. His gaze tilted downwards to meet the lifting eyes of the Hound. But a few moments later he could already sense that same sense of discontent he had encountered in several others.

A brow quirked beneath the helm, wordlessly staring for a moment towards the other upon their assertion. As if trying to ascertain whether he truly believed he ‘had’ it, or not—though the obvious answer was sarcasm. It became even more obvious as he stumbled past, not knowing if Yuri even had a destination in mind as he glanced over his shoulder. The passing scent of alcohol made it all the more clear what sort of state the other was in. “Then consider it a small aid upon what surely would’ve been a well-fought, uphill cliff of a battle.” Seemingly nonplussed against the claim. It wasn’t as if arguing with the influence was going to do much.

There was a veiled look beneath the helm, his head tilting ever-so-slightly. Beneath it could’ve been anything from intrigue to a grimace. Truthfully, it was not the most pleasant thing to hear. He understood the sentiment- some did view his actions in that way, though he would never wish to do something so barbaric. His brief stint in thought was interrupted by the shoulder-check, eliciting a huff of breath towards the terrible lack of appreciation. “Though facing down insurmountable odds is in our nature, that seemed more suicidal than anything else.” He gave in a curt retort. It was not meant to be something taken seriously- at least, he didn’t want to think so. Inebriated as they were. “...nor would I ever wish to pointlessly sacrifice lives, if that is your insinuation.” The definitions of such missions stretched. In war, every mission could be considered one from a tactical readout. He'd try not to think about that so suddenly—they hardly were in the state to really be considerate towards such things. Giving a sigh, and shaking his head as he moved on.

The grumbled words did catch him slightly off guard, as the polearm’s haft was set against the ground and he was just tilting away. “...of course.” Was the quiet acknowledgement thereafter, a slight dip of his head in affirmation. “Consider it just recompense for your aid given upon Ryloth.” Indirect as it was, the basilisk was Maji’s. Not that he had seen it since the battle... he was still figuring out where everything was around Kestri. “I don’t know why they had the audacity to call you a traitor- to even go so far as to attempt beating you to death…” It all reminded him of just how easily the word 'Dar'manda' was tossed around. Frankly, he was surprised it wasn't heard amidst that trio's murderous words. Steps slowly drew to pace after the stumbled steps. After all, he’d rather not step out of sight just for the vermin to come crawling back like vultures. It became abundantly apparent as Yuri nearly toppled that he was left worse for wear. “...I would hope your home is near enough to make it? You took quite a nasty beating.”

 

[Yuri Maji]

Yuri didn't entertain or react to Carduul's remarks, as much as he wanted to fire back. Something to get under his skin, rile him up and give the mutt a reason to fight. All those thoughts, however, were set aside when he asked why Yuri's attackers called him a traitor. A hollow chuckle was followed with a shake of his head. He turned to give Carduul a bloodied, toothy grin in warning. "I ain't givin' ya any ammo on me. This is what honesty and askin' for help gets a guy." He gestured to himself, taking a long drag of his cigarette.

Turning to leave once more, Carduul brought Yuri to another standstill. This time a low growl followed in annoyance, though the man did make a good point. As much as Yuri loathed to entertain him any further, he was in no condition to take those guys on if they came back. "Close enough, far enough. Come on, I don't wanna risk it." He lazily gestured for Carduul to follow him as he stumbled through the streets towards the Maji residence. While walking, Yuri couldn't help but wonder if he could trust his new companion with his secret. "Those guys had a point... sort of. Bit of an overreaction, but still..." He shrugged, but didn't elaborate any further.

He could save the rest for when he was safely in his house.

The rest of the walk was done in awkward silence. Yuri didn't say a word, even when he wanted to, only speaking to give directions or point landmarks out to the man. Upon reaching his door, he spent a few moments to try and tap the door's code correctly into the control panel. It finally gave a positive beep, and the door slid open.

Yuri halted in the doorway, his tired gaze lingering on Carduul for a long moment. "Come on." He grumbled. "Just keep it down. Dunno if Vara's sleepin' or studying." He continued. Yuri led the way in and flicked the lights on, illuminating the modest house and its layout. A fairly decent kitchen gave way to a sunken living room just beyond the open plan counters. Various decorations could be found. A stormtrooper's helmet, a very morbid statue consisting of what looked like a metal skeleton, cybernetic organs and limbs, with a busted helmet from a Mandalorian that once fought for the Maw as the head. The living room itself also sported a variety of paintings, comfortable furniture and a coffee table consisting of a creature's skull with a glass panel mounted on top. A fireplace adorned the far wall, built into the stone to warm the entire living room and kitchen.

Above the fireplace, however, rested very unique decorations. Three lightsaber hilts beside each other, underneath a large sword that appeared equally barbaric and masterfully crafted.

"Make yourself at home. You want anything?" Yuri asked, already fishing out two bottles of Ne'tra Gal and a medkit from the kitchen. Whether Carduul wanted it or not, he was given a bottle while Yuri sank into a couch across from him.

Carduul Akahl

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tor Valum, Kestri
Tags: Yuri Maji​

---

A frown crossed his features as the hound flashed a broken smile, hidden as it was. How in the world could they possibly have a ‘point’? “Lest it truly be something terrible and foul, I would hardly wish to have grief with one I have fought aside on the same battlefield. That alone merits much.” He asserted, quite certain of his belief. Whatever it was, he truthfully doubted that it would’ve been significant enough to warrant his anger. All things considered, he was quite forgiving of his own kin—for better, or for worse. Such a stance was what likely prevented a small civil war occurring on Mandalore when he returned.

It was a good thing that the other had the same idea as him, without having to argue over the subject. “Nor would I.” Was the agreement. So he had quietly followed Yuri, gaze turning with slight hums of interest whenever a new sight was pointed out along their small trip to the home.

He was assuming the Hound would want nothing more to do with him now that he was home safe. Yet again, he was surprised by him yet more. So with a dip of his head, he followed him into his home. As he passed the doorway, the poleaxe was shifted to rest alongside the wall. It was courtesy, after all. He would’ve seemed ridiculous holding onto his weapon as a guest in another’s home. Gaze tilted and roamed all around, surveying the various decorations and trophies upon display. “Vara?” Carduul may have recalled him interacting frequently with another- was he thinking of the right individual? Outside of those who still followed somehow him ardently, he was still coming to grips with the new world and those of the Enclave—and many of the faces here were unfamiliar.

As he took in all that was in view, from the paintings to the more notable lightsaber hilts- his visor lingering upon them more than the rest. Eventually, he made his way to settle upon one of the furniture. “I wouldn’t wish to impose upon your hospitality anymore than I already have. The decorations tell an interesting story.” He knowingly replied, a hand gesturing in a gentle wave-off of the offer. Though, it was already placed in front of him. He was never really one for alcohol, anyways…though he knew he was an outlier amongst others. “Truthfully, I am caught off-guard by the invitation inside, alone. I saw the looks you gave when I first appeared here, on Kestri.”

 

[Yuri Maji]

Yuri spared a confused glance at Carduul, though it quickly dawned on him that not everyone had met Vara yet. "Oh. Yeah, my girl. She's the new foundling I picked up. The other mutt at the other day's fight." He explained as he dug through the kitchen. Finally able to sit down, he scoffed at the man's remark over the decorations.

"Yeah... family's got some quirks." He muttered, studying the blade and hilts resting above the fireplace. There wasn't too much to say about it, unless Carduul wanted to hear the stories behind them. No, he was far more eager to voice his thoughts of why he was even entertaining the former Mand'alor. With squinted eyes and a drunken smile, Yuri huffed and knocked his drink back. "You and the rest of your flunkies waged a pointless war. Cost our people a lotta lives. Only thing more stupid than that is my ass thinkin' it was a good idea to follow y'all. Lost a lot more than just an arm in that Crusade." He began, glancing off at the morbid sculpture resting in the corner of the room.

"... But ya look like you can also keep your mouth shut when needed. Probably the only person on this karkin' planet whose opinion I don't care about." He lifted his bottle again, only to remember that it was empty. With a sigh he set it aside and looked at the man's T-visor. "Those guys karked me up 'cause a good couple years ago I pawned off a bunch of Beskar to make friends and a quick fix. One of those contacts reached out about it and I was lookin' for someone to help me get it back." He fell silent, carefully watching Carduul for any reaction.

Anger, disappointment, he was used to all of it. He wanted to know if he had made a mistake once again.

Carduul Akahl

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tor Valum, Kestri
Tags: Yuri Maji​

---

A lighter hum escaped him at the sound. A foundling, he said—something truly wondrous. “Ah, I see!” Though difficult to catch, there was an unmistakable satisfaction, or excitement, in the tone of voice. “Yes, I recall her. I am always glad to hear of new foundlings. I am half-tempted to ask all about how training and teaching her is going...”

However, unseen brows furrowed beneath the mask towards latter words. “It was not pointless.” Was his stern reply. To believe it pointless was an insult to all the Mandalorians which chose to give their lives to the belief- the fight for something greater. Be it for vengeance, reclamation, or preservation, all of it culminated into that singular Crusade. However short-lived it may have been.

It was a bit awkward to ask further, knowing the disposition of his host. They didn't seem the type to be interested in regailing with stories, though Carduul was always enthusiastic about such history. Before he could, the more pressing matter became apparent. His head tilted lightly to the side. It was as if the individual afore him wished to place all the blame of the Crusade unto him. Many did; it was only natural, of course—anger, disappointment, they were all things levied against him as figurehead of the Crusade. Still, it drew curiosity… “Do you believe me spawned out of thin air, Yuri Maji?” Came the succinct query thereafter. “A Mand’alor is but a reflection of the Mandalorian people’s will. They should be, anyway. Every life lost is one that pains me, but we believed it was the only way to secure our way of life. Whether or not I was chosen to lead, it was a battle that would’ve been fought.” Despite his firm words, there was no anger, nor venom held on the tip of his tongue in affirming his point. It was merely an explanation. His gaze tilted aside to roam towards the hilts once more. “They were no more my ‘flunkies’ than you were, when you first joined us. Our paths simply converged and diverged from shared belief. I do not think such a thing is foolish at all.” Truthfully, Carduul was not fully convinced Maji wholeheartedly believed it ‘stupid.’ Else, he wouldn’t even have a sense of familiarity to begin with.

Still, he fell silent not long thereafter. The insult was noted, obviously, giving way to a strong urge to simply roll his eyes—but it was simply part of his duties. What actually drew his interest was the admittance Yuri made, giving way to a small grimace. “...So,” Words slowly started with a slight lean aback against the cushion of the sofa. Though, the visor levelled towards him with a peer. “You are seeking to undo your mistake?” It wasn’t as if there was a point in berating him, or beating him senseless like those fools did. A scoff escaped him- to think a life was nearly snuffed out so unceremoniously over this. “And I presume you haven’t found anyone to aid in this, yet...I am surprised. Most would jump at such an opportunity to retake what rightfully belongs. Myself, included.”

 

[Yuri Maji]

The shift in Yuri's attitude was nearly instantaneous the moment Carduul argued against him. The twitch of his ear and flicker of anger in his gaze, Yuri was trying hard to keep his cool as the man defended his sentiment and the war that left them both scarred in one way or another. As Carduul went on to comment on the Hound's attempt to fix his mistake, drunken thoughts prevailed.

"It was!" The Hound blurted out, springing from his seat and nearly toppling over. In an attempt to add insult to injury, Yuri reached over and snatched the former Mand'alor's drink from his side of the table. "Bantha's shebs, that war wasn't to... to preserve our people! You're tellin' me waging war against the strongest karkin' power this side of the Corridor is preserving?" He squinted, a snarl accompanying his rising tone of voice. The previous concern of staying quiet went out the window about as quickly as it was introduced. "Look at you! It's easy to defend that karkin' mess when you have nothin' to lose! My karkin' mother died to stop that war, not give chakaars like you, Siv and Vreegan the... the karkin'... the crates to stand on! And sit there tellin' me it was inevitable." He breathed heavily, a mechanical finger pointing straight at Carduul's cuirass as if he could poke the man across the table.

The anger subsided as he took a long swig from the bottle and staggered to a doorway. "Listen... I'm comin' to you 'cause I know you're karkin' reliable... at the very least." He spoke with a much calmer tone as he leaned against the wall, almost ashamed at his outburst. "And ya wouldn't put a bolt between my eyes 'cause I 'desecrated our people's honour' or whatever. So if you're gonna help, karkin' get out. If not, then... I don't know, get out anyway." Visible confusion broke the snarl across Yuri's features, his blurred mind trying hard to piece a sentence together.

"Just kark off, I'll see ya tomorrow. I'm sleepin' in, though." He waved towards the door and regained his balance to enter the hallway. "Door's over there, hit the lights, please..." The Hound mumbled on, practically falling into the hallway with his bottle.

Carduul Akahl

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tor Valum, Kestri
Tags: Yuri Maji​

---

His reaction to the slightly slurred outburst was stoicism. He had listened all the same- he was, after all, a guest in Yuri’s house. And he was drunk, to add to that. It was only natural for emotion to boil over given the hound’s stance towards him. What caught him off-guard, was the mentioning of family that Carduul only had vague pieces as to the fate of. Only further by an admittedly truthful fact—compared to some, he didn’t have as much to lose. It was easy to proclaim a leader’s burden as naught but faux sympathy for those they send to die, though he could only hope that was not the case for himself. Nonetheless, he was quite steadfast in his beliefs, tried-and-tested over however many conflicts by then. He had subtly shook his head as words began to form.

“Was that not the Enclave’s goal—to preserve? They were the predecessors, and the Crusade was a direct result of their fate. They weren’t allowed to do that—and the Galactic Alliance, of all things, was responsible for felling them. Because they wished to intervene in Mandalorian affairs, despite all the conflict they had endured alongside with the Maw.” He retorted, “That much history I know studying from afar, and it is a point in our past that isn’t new, either.” A softened exhalation escaped him, as the helm turned aside. “To claim they were the ‘strongest’ is to believe the image they portray. They were rotting from the inside, and the fact they dissolved so quickly is proof of that.” If only it had been the Crusade to be the reason for such- there was no time to lament the loss of such a conquest now. Instead, his thoughts turned to the Hound’s predecessor. The one who, if he recalled, had fought in that very conflict he spoke of. Maji Ironworks’ creator and proprietor.

“But you are right.” He quietly acknowledged, “Compared to others, I suppose I do not have as much to lose- nothing but the lives of those who pledge themselves to me, and the ideals that I hold. That is why every life does hold weight, to me.” It came as a more firm assertion, a hand pressing to his own chestplate. Though, his words came to a slow from what he originally intended on proclaiming. “...I do not know the story of your mother.” A softer tone taken with the acknowledgement, though it turned to a slight bitterness upon its latter omission. “I only have scant fragments of Shai Maji’s fate. I only know that if she died in that conflict, I am inclined to say it was because of them. If one who had seen so much, who had done so much for the Mandalorian cause can meet their end over that…” Words trailed off, before a huff of breath. He didn’t even wish to finish that sentence. The implication was obvious, but he didn’t exactly wish to contradict an upset drunkard. Why he had even gone on to speak at length was unknown—he must’ve seemed ridiculous by now. “...She was a brave soul, for all she did. I do know that she was cherished dearly.” Lousy words of comfort, but it was an attempt.

Rage subsided, though he may well have reignited it with his final words. Hopefully he hadn’t; he was trying to be as diplomatic as one could. His gaze remained focused upon Yuri, only giving a slight nod in return, “I see…well,” A hum escaping the helm. It was ironic that he, of all people, was believed to be the right individual that wouldn't zealously pursue such a death. “I see no reason not to aid your endeavor, Yuri Maji.” With that, he had slowly risen from the fairly comfortable sofa, steps beginning to motion to the door. “Tomorrow it is.” He acknowledged. Just as Carduul’s hand shifted for the lights, a glance over his shoulder caught the extra stumbling. He was half-tempted to ask if he needed anything further—but he had likely worn his welcome thin already. “I’ll give you time enough, then.” As the lights were ‘clicked’ off, and the door was opened, picking up the weapon with his off-hand as he aimed stepped out. “Be well.”