Broken Crown

[Ronan Vizsla]

​

NE'TRA FLEET​

​

For once there was a moment of silence.

Silence accompanied by the scrapping of the whetstone against the waiting edge of the beskad. Perfect. There weren't many of these moments left to him. Always something that sought his attention. Petty things. Disputes. Considerations. Politics which he had always hated. The battle pushed forward and forward, until he couldn't see it anymore. It was something that would have made his skin itch only a year ago.

Now?

It just mildly annoyed him.

There was a knock.

Then silence. "It's me." Koda's voice. That one had come and gone from their fleet. He had his own room that was sparingly occupied at times. But Fett had always been like that. A hunter, lone soul, empty soul. One of the few people that sassed him, where Ronan didn't feel like ripping their throat out for it.

Good man? No, there weren't any here.

But a dependable one. As long as your expectations were acceptable.

"Enter."

The whetting of the blade continued regardless.

[member="Koda Fett"]​

 

[Koda Fett]

If anything, Ronan was to blame.

The Mandalorian had taken his step inside. His armour had been worn in it's entirety, but when wasn't it? It was as if that was his skin, his face, and all. There was really nothing more to Koda Fett than the shell he wore. For good reason too. There was a newfound connection to such armour now, no longer had it simply been a protective suit accompanied by a vain attempt to prove himself to something long since past. It had the same meaning to him now as Ronan's own had to him.

"You heard?" Fett asked. Talk had travelled fast in the past, and it surely was to come to no surprise to Koda if Ronan had already heard. It skipped the pleasantries; neither men were built for that.

They only really knew one thing.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Koda Fett"]

He had.

The question caused him to pause with the beskad. Putting it to the side and moving to disengage the locks from his helmet. He put it aside. Behind it were the dead eyes of Ronan, ember coals staring back, the scars of a violent life spread across his face. They were faint though and that was the proof of his blood. It healed better than most. "I have." Finally said, before he took up the beskad again. "I wondered how long it would take, before you would find yourself here."

It was no secret that outside of the Mandalorian Empire Vizsla had gathered together the largest group of Clans.

Munin, Saxon, Wren, Fett and Vizsla.

All under one House.

Vizsla was the largest of them, strongest, but the others had their own strengths that added to the power of the House. "Ask what you came here to ask." Ronan knew what it was. Koda knew. But Vizsla needed to hear it from the Fett himself.

"Remove your helmet before you do."

 

[Koda Fett]

It should truly of been no surprise that Fett needed Vizsla. Ronan was right, and he had amassed the largest following of the Clans outside of the Mandalorian Empire. If this newly anointed 'Warlord' was to do anything with the Mandalorians, as a whole, he required House Vizsla; subsequently Ronan, too. It was a shame, though. Shysa had all that blood spilt, and they were nowhere to be seen- perhaps it was for the best, to let them lick their wounds clean and begin anew. It was fair, if nothing else.

It had all seemed perfectly fine, but Fett did believe himself a little disgruntled at the demand of Vizsla. Koda didn't often adhere to a demand, if ever, really. If there was payment involved, maybe, but Koda realised -- with an instinctive scowl stretched across his features -- that Ronan and his forces were truly the largest payment he could receive. Yet still, stubborn as ever, he refused non-verbally. Preliat had seen it in a moment of weakness, in a genuine reveal that he hadn't been very comfortable with. Ronan may be an ally, a potential 'friend', but there were things you didn't alway share with them anyways.

"House Vizsla," Fett began, his voice synthesised by the helmet's Internal microphone. "I need them."

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Koda Fett"]

His attention was on the blade.

"You will ask me with your helmet off."

Eyes up towards the visor of Koda. "One who wishes to command the Clans is more than a set of armor. Than a synthesized voice garbling out of a masked helmet. You will do well to remember that." Most of his decisions in the Clan were made without his helmet. His stride through the Fleet maskless. Every single follower of his knew his face. Intimately. Every scar earned, every line lived. You couldn't ask them to follow a mask or a hulk of iron on the front lines.

That was the deepest understanding that many of the Mando'a missed.

They had read the texts, studied the lessons and taken their lessons. But some had taken it to an extreme and it didn't bode well for the direction their people were taking. From True Mandalorians, to Death Watch to whatever Yasha's chit was these days.

Torn into different directions.

Easy pickings for the united galactic nations staring them down.

 

[Koda Fett]

The Mask of Mand'alor, no? That was nothing but a mask, and they all followed that mask, they all kept it as a constant reminder of it is that they respect, and follow onto the front lines. Fett had no truthful intention on leading the Clans in their entirety, least not yet. His plan, in truth, was merely to establish a group outside of the Mandalorian Empire, a band of those Exiles that so often speak out about their disdain for such a thing. Had he become a tool for someone else, influenced by a man far greater at twisting words than himself? It seemed possible. Koda had been new to this- he had known nothing, but everyone started somewhere.

Yet, Fett knew. He knew that he could not garner the support of someone as stubborn as Ronan by not meeting his demands. It was insufferable, and an inkling of anger swept over the Bounty Hunter, if he could even call himself that anymore. There was a hiss, one familiar among the Mandalorian people as his helmet decoupled from the rest of the suit. Fett had favoured his enigmatic ways, and the revealing of a face happened to be rather difficult for more reasons than one. His hands had risen up, removing such a thing. Fett was typical of a Fett Clone, be it scars that made him unique to himself. The Mandalorian stared a moment longer, the contempt filled gaze was clearly apparent.

"I need House Vizsla." He had spoken, his voice naturally flowing in a way Ronan hadn't heard it before.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Koda Fett"]

Those dead eyes roamed.

Studying every line, every scar that made Koda unique and stand aside from his Fett clone brothers.

"We all have a need." He rose slowly, sheathing the beskad, and walking up to Koda. From looking up to him to looking down. Ronan had always used his height to his advantage. From extended reach to intimidation, there had always been a point to it. What was the point here? That was the question. "I heard many things from Shogun." He circled him, watching his reactions. His steps sure and patient. Boots to the steel making a familiar cadence to him.

"I hear Mantis proclaimed you Mand'alor."

There was amusement in his tone there. "I hear you declined and called yourself Warlord."

Two more steps and now Ronan was in front of Koda again. "Why now, Koda? What changed." His need was known, but his reasons were not and that was what mattered to Ronan. The mantle of Mand'alor was a joke truth to be told.

There had been one. Once. Ra. But his time was over and had been before his subsequent rise once more.

 

[Koda Fett]

Fett didn't waver in the slightest as Ronan stood over the top of him, or at least tried to. It felt... condescending, in nature. It was ultimately frivolous and unimportant. Koda had never truthfully been a rather tall man, least not for a Bounty Hunter or a Mandalorian, but he held his own. He had to; otherwise he may not be here now.

"I listened." The Mandalorian had explained, "I never considered myself, truthfully, Mandalorian." His gaze firm and still, never falling from Ronan. It might be a sign of weakness to do so, and Koda had always been ever determined to prove himself for one reason or another, to some person or to many. It was rather childish. "Yourself, Mantis, your daughter... Changed my perspective." Fett had that realisation that he was who chose to be, there was nothing that defined who he was and the constraints placed upon him were done so by himself.

Unfortunately, there was always that lingering attempt to make Jango proud. That might never fade.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Koda Fett"]

A snort followed.

"It is a far cry to go from accepting being one of us, to move to lead us, Koda."

There had to be more, no? A reason. A desire. Something that had pushed Fett out of being a lone wolf, hunting, to wanting to be the Alpha. There always was something to that end. It was one of the reasons why Ronan had never moved to solidify his own claim. He could have, no? Right at the end of the Red Coronation. Move decisively and forcefully. Lay stake to one title or the other and lead. But Vizsla hadn't. He had focused internally on his own House politics.

Ensured strength there.

Then allowed others to join his strength.

Together they had formed more. "Why should you be Warlord over us all. Mand'alor... perhaps. What makes you suited?" It might have been surprising coming from him. Ronan Vizsla, a man with thoughts on this. One who didn't just hunger.

But who considered.

New development? Or always there.

 

[Koda Fett]

"Hmph." Fett huffed, a tinge of a smirk creasing across his face.

The Mandalorian turned away. His own Helmet had been held within one hand, inside the interior as if a fist was wearing it. It had been raised up in front of his own eyes as Fett took a step off to the side, as if he was in thought. It was the Visor in which he stared into, in silence even. He had then placed it back over his head, feeling the comfortability of it had been all too relaxing, really. His helmeted head pivoted, he took to staring at Ronan with a second longer of this silence. "I do not know." He truthfully replied, his entire form then shifting over to face the Vizsla.

​It was the truth. Koda hadn't the slightest desire to become a leader of the Mandalorians, even a smaller sect. It had been thrust upon him by men such as Preliat and those that followed him alongside the Te Veman. "I didn't ask for it. I was hesitant to even meet with Mantis." Koda had continued, taking a step back to fill that area he vacated. "It was just thrust upon me."

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Koda Fett"]

He didn't know.

Ronan internally sighed, before settling him back in his seat.

Beskad to the side and forgotten for now. What was there to say to this? How to commit to a goal, a direction that the supposed leader didn't seem to believe in? But there was anger singing in his veins as that last part was spoken by Koda. "Thrust upon you. Didn't ask for it." He squinted at Koda, before pointing at him. "Are you a Mandalorian or a Jetii? A man of the Republic? Maybe an Imperial, what?" He didn't rise, but his eyes were livelier there.

"There are men and women outside of our Clans that suggest a true leader should not wish to be one. Should be pushed into it. Is that the Mandalorian way? Leaders too cowardly to step in themselves? Without the strength and devotion to bend those around them to their will?"

That is what Ra had done, no?

He had wanted the title. Not for himself, but because he knew that there was no one else better for the job.

And he had taken it. Daring all around him to stop him.

"You ask me to commit my people to a cause you do not believe in. To follow a ruler who does not want to be one. What sense does that make?" For once Ronan wasn't saying all of this to prod at Koda. To push him and see what the reaction would be. From one moment to the next Ronan had become deadly serious. This meeting, this conversation would determine the direction of all those living under his protection. From his daughter to the lowest of unblooded.

This was no joking matter.

 

[Koda Fett]

There had always been a certain tenacity to everything that was Ronan Vizsla, a tenseness to each situation Fett had shared with Vizsla. He was a far greater candidate for such a position, and Koda had known that; he didn't know why they desired him to be their Warlord, to take charge of their armies and force them upon the Galaxy. It was simply a thing that happened for no apparent reason. Perhaps they saw something within him that he did not, that Vizsla did not. It was impossible to tell, and he was certain that it was only time that could.

"It hardly does." Fett replied, "But, I have a legacy to continue. Everyone has their own reasons, and that is mine. It wasn't my choice to make myself their leader, but I accept their decision. I believe in the Mandalore that existed beneath the Undying, and I will work to tirelessly to get it back." His voice remained rather passive, calm, collected. He didn't see the need for a violent reaction.

"Regardless if you side with me or not."

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Koda Fett"]

"Work tirelessly to die without me, you mean." Ronan retorted dryly, before the fire slowly retreated from his eyes.

That was the crux of the matter, no?

If Ronan didn't march then Koda and his people most likely would march right into their death. It would weaken the Exiles and strengthen the Empire and that.... that was something that Vizsla could not abide by. But that didn't mean he would bend his knee. He had done it once before, then the Undying had returned and Ronan had been silent for the most part. Now it was different. Different enough that the hesitation had to be violently pushed aside there.

"I won't follow you."

Simple as that.

Decision made and that was that, no? Except- "But I won't allow you to march to your death and strengthen Yasha's position even more." A shrug followed. "I will fight alongside you as an equal. That is the extent of what I can give you today."

Maybe some day that would change.

When Koda had vision, but maybe this would be enough for now.

 

[Koda Fett]

There was a simple nod of the Mandalorian's helmeted head. It went forth, understanding and accepting of Ronan's answer. "All I ask." He truthfully did. Perhaps Fett was all too arrogant for his own good, but in the shoes of a Mandalorian he viewed himself as a lesser. As something beneath all those men and women that triumphed through the ages of a harsh upbringing and an even harsher life experience. Koda, whilst leading an unfortunately crafted life, had been able to run, to flee, to find something of his own. Perhaps that wasn't cowardly in the sense he was his own man at all times, but everything could be misconstrued.

​He had a vision, and it was blurry and muddled with half-truths, pressure and introspective questions. Preliat and his people had almost demanded Fett to be their leader and, whilst he hadn't the slightest clue as to why, he been convinced to become one of them​, a Mandalorian that served Mandalore. It is what Jango would've wanted, right? He would've approved of such a thing, to reinstate his Mandalorians (or so Fett had believed) as the rightful grouping that laid claim to that ravaged planet. He was more than capable in the field of combat, but it was the culture in itself that he so desperately required teachings. It would to come him.

It only took time.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]