Private Brothers

[Thal Mantis]

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Brothers by blood
Hate by birth
Enemies by time

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In the years following Mandalore's destruction- several times over, in fact, the world had begun to heal.

Slowly.

It was that the brothers decided to meet, over the ashes of their fallen people. A forest had grown, dark and foreboding, with angry, twisted plants. Some trees had survived, and began to sprout anew. Most of the fauna was dead, but life was still slowly recovering, even after all these painful years. Volcanic ash, dust, and air had killed most of the planet. But life was tenacious on Mandalore, as Mandalorians from Mandalore were tenacious of themselves. It was even in their lineage, perhaps. The Taung rose from the ashes of a burned world- why wouldn't the Mandalorians once more?

Fenn was the first to reach out to his brother, the Jetii. The brother that would-be his.
Half-brother, at least.

But Fenn was the son of a tube, a perfect clone of the Wolf of Mandalore. Thal was a true son- a result of a tryst long ago. Fenn was more Preliat than Thal was.

And each brother wanted the other to their side, to guide the other back.

Fenn had lost his armor, and Thal had lost his way. Each of them was on the path to gaining it back. Thal moreso than his brother.

Thal waited, chewing on a pack of fried vegetables he'd packed for the journey. His Masters always seemed to have better conversations over food. He wasn't even sure that his brother enjoyed food. He wasn't sure much about his brother at all, actually. He had only heard about how... angry he was. How violent he was. How much like his father he was. Thal wasn't a fan of his father. Or his mother. Or much of anything about the Mandalorians.

He heard his brother approach, and neither attempted to mask their footsteps or approach. His brother was angry-looking. He emanated repressed anger and hatred. Much like Thal used to.

He turned to his brother, blinking up at him from his seated position. Fenn was dressed in heavy, dark clothing. No armor. He had lost it after being in cryo-sleep.

Thal gestured to his ship in the distance. On it- Preliat's armor.

"I brought you something."

He rose to a stand, not sure whether to reach out or prepare for a fight. Fenn stood there, eyes narrowed in a looming, cruel stare.

​

 

[Fenn Stag]

Sins of the Father
Fall of the Sons
Pride before the fall
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His brother was definitely his brother, in appearance alone. While Fenn knew that he was an exact copy of Preliat as he could have been. Only slight differences in jawline and bone structure- a life free of constantly being battered in Null-Hockey arenas made him much more 'perfect' than his father. A lighter skin tone than his father as well- a result of the cloning process and a lack of exposure to sunlight. That- and no mother to speak of.

Fenn's jealously was deep-rooted. Thal had a mother. Thal was a true son of Preliat. Fenn was a weapon of war, made perfect, made in the image of his father. Every part about him was manufactured to be perfect and to be free of imperfections- no flaws in his genes, no sickness, no illnesses, no scars, not a hair out of place. Not a muscle group lacking more than the other. Surgeries and stimulants and training made him a tool of war.

And then discarded by a failing Empire.

And left alone at the age of five.

Forever doomed to be an unused tool.

Until his people found him. Until he was given purpose.

And it sickened him to see such a mighty man with such great potential to be... a Jetii.

"Jedi bringing gifts to a Mandalorian. I bring you nothing, I'm afraid-"

Thal offered him a vegetable, fried. They at least had similar tastes in food. Fried foods were a delicacy, and quite delicious.

"Thank you."

He took a seat next to his brother, his hands wrapped around his knees, peering down into the vast, broken and rebuilding wilderness from the hill they were on.

"Preliat was here when the planet was broken by the traitors- just prior to the Seven Day war."