Faction An early toast | The Enclave

[Aloy Vizsla]

T H E - E N C L A V E

Tag: Nita Quez | Adi'ka Awaud | Kranak Vizsla | Mig Gred |
Location: Roon, Great hall

It was a busy day within the enclave as warriors returned from the conquest of Kestri, Flooding their home within the confederacy for repairs, Food and supplies.

Aloy herself, Sat at the far end of the hall atop one of the tables with her prosthetic leg crossed over the other, Was in need of a long rest after that mess.
But to the warriors of Clan Vizsla, There was no use in respite with vode to share it with. Once her food and drink had been brought to her, She stood up on the table with her mug raised high, And shouted over the crowd;

"Hey! Listen up! I just finished fightin' beside the greatest bucket-heads this side of the core, And yet I don't see everyone with drinks in hand, And I can still hear myself think!" She cackles
"So let's kriffing fix that shall we? Toast! To the enclave! To our vode! And Kestri!" Her ale laps foam out of the mug as she raises it sky-high, Her own toast joined in by a few of her Vizsla kinsmen at the table

"Hey, hey! You new people in back, You too! No I don't care if you were on Kestri, Just drink, Dank ferric!"

 

[Adi'ka Awaud]

Adi'ka was desperately in need of a break. The petite Lepi was a bounty hunter, a small scale mercenary. And yet her adoptive dad had called her to arms in a real war. Her first. She didn't like it at all. So much random death and collateral damage. What was the worth of a perfect fighter when giant ship weapons fired and the horizon turned to a wall of plasma by strategic bombardment?
She was loyal to clan and her dad and would always come when called, but she was shell-shocked and feeled like an old veteran not like a young girl, she actually was.

She hoped in the Enclave she could have a break and restock her supplies. Perhaps the small lagomorph Mandalorian could take on a normal job. Some nice little hunt of a criminal or a small scale operation. Adi'ka was sick of being in large scale battle and losing friends in random point defence fire or seeing civilians die by the thousands.

And so she walked into the Great Hall of Roon. What the black clad Lepi had seen of the Enclave was to her liking. So many Mandalorians. More like the ragtag fleet of Clan Awaud and not like the doomed wannabe empire of Madalore.
Independence and self-reliance was the aura of the place. Slowly the depressed lagomorph was catching the spark of optimism and lust for life again.

She was deep in her fast beating heart a hedonistic party bunny. Perhaps in this rough place they know to party hard.

Obviously she came right in time. A warrior woman of Clan Vizsla was boasting and challenging the crowd to a toast.
Adi'ka's in segmented armour clad ears stood up by the words. She had never heard of this Kestri and was not part of the Enclave yet. But she was part of the Aliit of all Mandalorians.

She grasped a mug and raised it high. With her lightning reflexes she was the first to react this way.

"K'oyacyi! To the enclave! To your vode! And Kestri!", she shouted.

She removed her helmet to drink dry the mug in one swallow. The seasoned drinking habit was a stark contrast to the cute white furred bunny face of the Lepi below the enigmatic T-visored helmet.

 

[Eliz Krayt]

This was.. Kind of nice. Eliz glanced about the room, actually smiling. People were in good spirits. Whatever it was that happened seemed to be worth celebrating. He'd only recently returned, though. Or joined? Huh. Hard to tell which he should call it. He wasn't Vizsla. He wasn't any clan. Not after his father died.

That thought brought a frown to his lips, which he hid behind his own mug. Not booze. He was Vod, but he knew how bad booze was for someone his age. Water. Just water. He took a long drink of it before setting down the cup. Everyone was cheering. He chuckled a bit before picking up his cup to join in. Why not.

Not everything had to be doom and gloom.

Aloy Vizsla | Nita Quez | Kranak Vizsla | Mig Gred | Adi'ka Awaud

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

REST AND RECUPERATION

Location: Roon, Kranak’s Quarters.
Local Time: 13:22
Date: -DATA CORRUPTED-
Primary Objective: Get some R&R
Secondary Objective: N/A
Equipment: No Weapons, Armor and Gear. (Wearing a grey form fitting T-shirt, grey flight suit pants and armored boots.)
Tags: Aloy Vizsla | Eliz Krayt | Adi'ka Awaud | Mig Gred | Nita Quez

The giant Ori’ramikad woke up from his slumber with a grimace of pain on his face. His body was aching all over. He was incapacitated in the recent battle on Kestri. He and his squad were tasked with taking down a Vong Worldship. They had accompanied a large, explosive payload into the craft. The bomb detonated, destroying the Vong Worldship before Kranak could get to a safe distance. As a result, the big guy was caught in the fatality radius of the explosion. Several days had passed since then. The giant was in the process of recovering. The explosion had hurt him badly.

He sat on the side of his bed and reached for his water canteen and a blister pack of Comaren tablets from the nightstand beside his bed. He popped two blisters on the pack and retrieved the pills within. He swallowed the painkillers with a large sip of water from his canteen. He put back the canteen and the blister pack of Comaren tablets back on the nightstand and stood up and walked towards the refresher on the other side of his quarters and started his daily routine.

He studied his reflection on the refresher’s mirror -his face in particular- as he leaned on the metal sink. The glass cuts from his visor had left his face with injuries. His helmet’s visor at the time was much weaker than transparisteel, so the blast had shattered the visor and sent small chunks of glass at his face. Some of them had injured his left eye, but fortunately it wasn’t anything serious. His scars and his left eye would heal completely in the next few days. Bacta did wonders after all.

The water ran freely from the open tap. The giant washed his face twice while he tried not to dampen the bacta bandages wrapped over his left eye. He then reached for his razor blade to shave off the light stubble after applying some shaving foam. He shaved carefully in order to not damage the healing scar tissue on his face.

He washed his face for the last time after shaving off the light stubble on his face. The giant then reached for a towel and dried his face after closing the tap. Next on his list would be changing the dressing on his left eye. He had to change it daily until it fully healed. He got out of the fresher and walked towards his workbench next to his armor stand to retrieve a small portion of medical supplies from his backpack. Then the Mandalorian headed back into the refresher to tend to his wound.

Standing in front of the mirror once again, he removed the bacta bandages covering his left eye and studied his injury. He had kept it nice and clean. The scarred tissue appeared to be healthy with no signs of infection, but his vision on his left eye was still blurry. He had taken small visor shards to his eye after all. The operation on his left eye was minor and successful, but it would take him a few more days until his vision was fully restored.

He closed his left eye and gently applied an antiseptic fluid to keep the wound disinfected. He then applied a fresh set of bacta patch on the wound and firmly -but not tightly- wrapped a bandage over the bacta patch to keep it in place. He secured the end of the bandage by tying a knot in the end. Satisfied, he tossed the old dressings into the bin and walked out of the fresher and moved towards his workbench.

Turning on the workbecnh’s light, Kranak heaved a long, troubled sigh in the sight of his damaged weapons and armor. The barrels on his pistols were bent with extensive damage on their frame. He would have to find a suitable replacement for them.

His Disruptor Rifle was in far worse condition compared to his A-180’s, however. The duranium magwell was bent inwards, trapping the magazine inside. The sight optics were broken beyond repair. The rest of the duranium frame had a number of bruises and dents. Duranium was a strong material. The rifle was graded to be highly resilient, considered robust. That said something about the force of the explosion.

“Kriffing Vong…” the giant cursed with a sigh. The rifle was brand new, he had specifically purchased it for the operation in Kestri. It served him faithfully there. He would need to get it repaired.

The damage on his weapons was bad, but his armor? The damage on that was something else entirely. His armor pieces laid at the top right side of the large workbench. The giant pushed aside his bruised weapons to make space for his damaged armor.

It was the first time he would see the full extent of the damage to his armor after getting out of the bacta tank they had put him in several days ago. He pulled the large clump of armor pieces in front of him on the workbench. His facial impressions were a mixture of awe and gloom upon seeing the damage. He was in awe to see how well the armor had shielded him from the blast. If he wore anything other than a beskar’gam, he would most certainly have died from the blast. “Beskar be praised…” murmured the giant in amazement.

But gloom was quick to set in. Seeing his armor in its current condition saddened him. It served him faithfully for many years. He took care of it well, and in return it took care of him; it protected him, saving his life on many occasions, just as it faithfully did in Kestri.

His helmet’s rangefinder was completely torn off, with its visor completely shattered. There were a few small to large shards left from the pulverized visor remaining, hanging by the frame of the visor plate. They looked like the jagged teeth of a carnivorous beast. There were many dents on the helmet’s dome and back side, as well as the faceplate. But the damage on his helmet didn’t just end there. The electronic underlay had to be damaged extensively from the blast.

His chestplate, backplate, shoulder plates and vambraces told the same story. A number of large dents all across the board, with the black paint job mostly scraped off; he could see his face reflecting from the bare beskar when light was shone on the armor. His vambrace gear was no longer functioning. The repulsor unit karked up beyond all recognition. The numerous whipcord and ascension cable launchers were crushed. The flamer gas tank was completely missing. The mechanism to retract the wristband blades were jammed, the mechanism presumably crushed.

On several points the beskar appeared to have crumpled, most notably his chestplate and backplate. He hadn’t seen anything quite like it before. Beskar was very durable. He wondered how much explosives that R2 unit had inside it now. It was strong enough to destroy a Vong Worldship after all, but he wasn’t expecting this amount of damage to his armor.

With a heartache, the giant gently caressed the damaged chestplate with his left hand; like a lover caressing the shapely features of his beloved. He had to restore his armor.

He’d do it in due time; soon. He would see to that matter as soon as he recovered fully from his injuries. For now he would have to make a list of things that would need repair and restoration. He reached for a datapad and started to write down the necessary replacement parts for his kit. The damage on his armor was quite extensive. He would not be able to repair it himself this time. He would have to take it to an armorsmith.

He turned off the workbench’s lights and left the datapad next to the clump of armor parts on the bench once he was finished. Now it was the time to get something to eat and drink. He walked away from the workbench to get changed before he went out.

The automated door of his quarters closed after the giant left his quarters. He was headed to The Great Hall. He walked the well lit hallways slowly, occasionally walking past a fellow vod or two. They had greeted him with a nod. He was quick to greet them back as he walked.

After about five minutes he reached The Great Hall. He could hear the joyful laughter and chatter of his fellow brothers and sisters from his end of the hallway. The automated doors opened to the sides when its sensors detected him when he was close by.

The Great Hall was almost full for the celebration of The Enclave’s victory at Kestri. The Mandalorians within the hall occupied many tables, dotted all across the hall. They were drinking, eating, engaged in intimate conversations. It was a beautiful sight. The scene put a large smile on the big guy’s face. This is what he absolutely loved about The Enclave. It didn’t matter what clan they hailed from or who they were as long as they adhered to the Mandalorian values. They were unified, and that’s what mattered in these trying times for the Mando’ade. In a galaxy that has it out for Mandalorians, you only had your fellow vode to trust, and no one else.

There were a number of friendly faces amongst the merry crowd. Kranak saw his Clan Alor seated at the far end of the Great Hall atop a table there with her prosthetic leg crossed over the other, her right hand grasping a large ale mug firmly as she raised it while she spoke.

"Hey! Listen up! I just finished fightin' beside the greatest bucket-heads this side of the core, And yet I don't see everyone with drinks in hand, And I can still hear myself think!"
She cackles
"So let's kriffing fix that, shall we? Toast! To the enclave! To our vode! And Kestri!"

“To The Enclave! To our Vode and Kestri!”

The Mandalorians roared in unison in response to Aloy as they raised their mugs for a toast. A few got up from their seats to get a refill of their ale afterwards. The giant joined them and grabbed himself a large ale mug and filled it to the brim with Kri’gee. He went an extra step further and got himself a plate full of Uj’alayi. After finding an empty table, the giant settled down alone and started to dine.