Campaign Chu'Mar | The Enclave & Mandalorian Union

The Quartermaster · Sep 20, 2020

R E D E M P T I O N
The Enclave

The Quartermaster was no warrior. From the time she'd been old enough to understand what was happening around her, the various intricacies of her culture, she had always innately known that her path was to become a master of the Forge. The fires and bellows called to her in a way that the violence and blasters did not. To her, each strike had been a delicate note interwoven into a melody so particular that only those who were listening could discern it. But, her passions notwithstanding, when the Sith had rained fire over Mandalore, she had done her part to defend her home.

And she would never forget how the sky seemed to blacken when they lost, nor the soil of Mandalore running red with the blood of her warriors.

She had been lucky enough to escape her former home, to survive along with a group of the Mando'ade, to heal and have enough strength to build the Enclave. But there were so many that hadn't had her good fortune, who's lives had been exterminated by the Sith Empire. Or worse, they had been doomed to a life of slavery under the Sith Empire, a dishonorable death in combat forever withheld from them. For so long, the Quartermaster had felt a duty towards her people; despite the ever-fractured state of Mandalore, they still were under one name and one creed. To do nothing was to be a traitor.

But, at the same time, her trauma and pragmatist assumptions had denied her this personal redemption. At the supposed height of their power, the Mando'ade had been powerless to stop the cultural genocide of their people. If they had not been victorious, then how would a nearly-extinct, scattered, and completely disorganized arrangement of survivors be able to retake their home? It was impossible, she had concluded so long ago. It may eat at her soul, but she was powerless to do nothing but try to rebuild and rehabilitate the scattered remnants of the children of Mandalore.

Until she had received a holo in the middle of the night.

It had been a message from Kreslin Westwind, a capable warrior who the Quartermaster could vouch for their skill in combat and level-headed thinking; after all, she'd sent him on a scouting mission to Sev Tok, and he hadn't died to the planet's lava-spewing volcanos or ground-wrenching earthquakes. It had appeared that the survivors of the Sith's genocide were beginning to coalesce faster than she had anticipated, and Westwind was leading one of the factions that vowed to wreak vengeance on the Sith. But that didn't interest her as much as his proposal did.

An underground network to liberate those still under the iron fist of the Sith.

Chu'mar.

The Quartermaster was not completely won over by the proposal, but she'd granted Kreslin an audience at the Enclave. At the very least, it would be a start.

Kreslin Westwind

Venku Bralor

Torrack Torrackstur

Siv Dragr

Caeos Prahl

Mig Gred

Kreslin Westwind · Sep 20, 2020

Kreslin arrived shortly before the assigned meeting time with the representatives of the Enclave, suppressing a yawn beneath his helmet as he folded his arms across his chest, the armorweave cloak over his right shoulder shifting with the motion. Beneath, the array of short knives and other various blades could be seen, though most were resting with a cloth covering over them. He had forgone his usual array of blasters for what was supposed to be a simple meeting to discuss a proposal for the future of the Mandalorian people, but it would have been a showing of weakness on his part to show up unarmed as well.

Unlike the Mandalorian Union, the Enclave was a force of the Mando'ade that called for a more neutral stand point in galactic affairs. From what Kreslin knew from his interactions with them in the past, they had become part of the law enforcement of the Confederacy, though they were not specifically beholden to them. Kreslin was not entirely comfortable with the prospect of the situation, but at the moment, the relative security the two groups cooperation provided the reasoning for Kreslin and his companions coming to the Enclave this day.

Lowering his arms, Kreslin inclined his head for his two companions to follow him as they began to make their way towards the meeting chamber, his cloak drifting around his side as he moved through the hidden halls of the Enclave. The hangar they left their three A'den Class Starfighters had been quite spacious and pleasant to see, but had held his attention only briefly as he set himself to the task at hand. Approaching the far end of the hangar, where the doors, under guard Kreslin noted with some approval, he turned his head to speak to his companions, though never broke stride.

"The last time I was underground in a place like this, an earthquake was trying to crush the building I was in." The words were filled with some humor as he came to a halt before the doors, gloved hands flexing slowly. "Come to think of it, it was the Enclave that sent me to those caves..."

Torrack Torrackstur · Sep 21, 2020

Armed with a ceremonial dagger, as well as wearing his beskargam the rally master would use his species natural strength to fight out of trouble. The sturdy being's gauntlets were also a designed weapon that one of his disposition could greatly use. Especially as a berserker, but using such ferocity would not being necessary for this meeting. While he may have a pig face, the crusader was capable of great suggestions every now and then. In fact due to his recent activities in assisting the enclave, by helping them claim mand'alor the ultimate's artifacts and weapons on dxun. He suggested them as a natural group to have discussions with, it was coincidence that both Kreslin and Torrack had a history with the organization.

As a veteran and passionate warrior of the manda'ode, it sadden him about how many mandalorians had become disenfranchised. Whether it be loss of land or of allit, the orphans or devasted clans of the culture were numerous. Even now, with the Mandalorian Union forming as a youthful nation with clans strong enough to still fight joining. Many clans are still too weak and there are too many mandalorians who had become orphans and are the last of their clan. That is what the Enclave was about, helping rebuild those clans so that they too can eventually forge their own destiny. The mandalorian union supported this endeavor, until this nation was stable enough to take in the broken of the mandalorian people. It would be best to bring them to the care of those trustworthy, like the enclave.

If they both could set up a "railroad" of sorts that could work to help mandalorians on their path. Whether it be to join the union and fight, or to go to the enclave and rebuild. This network would work in the best interests of all mandalorians, likely something these two mandalorian factions could accomplish if they worked together. He was here to help the Warmaster of the the mandalorian union , tho not a mand'alor yet. Kreslin was a man of great respect and importance amongst the Union. The gamorean would support the A'lor and one of the founders of this nation however.

"Tell me about it, squeak squeak they sent me to fething Dxun! Hoink hoink I was almost a karking chew toy , to that planet." . He would pause before speaking yet again to Kreslin. "I thank the great big tits of my ancestors, squeak squeak that im alive. hoink hoink hoink.". After the little banter with Kreslin, the crude being would shut his trap, not wanting to sabotage negotiations.

Mig Gred

Mig Gred · Sep 21, 2020

Mig walked alongside the Quartermaster, followed by an R-series droid as he looked around. He sighed a little, taking off his helmet to rub his left eye. "You think this'll go off well?" His Concord Dawn way of talking showed through as a whistling came from behind him. "No R10! We're not doing that!" He shook his head before sliding the helmet back on. He hoped R10 wouldn't do anything like that during the meeting, but he knew how the droid could be sometimes. He grabbed a holo-disc before flicking it on, seeing the various images of ships and designs before flipping to a picture of his family. He smiled a little before pocketing it again.

The he got a message from one of his fleet's A.I.s, Cordy. The Feminine A.I. didn't seem to happy, which only had Mig worried. "Alor, one of the freighters hasn't returned with supplies yet, and we can't track her down. Any suggestions" Stupid pirates.... He sighed, letting his answer be hidden by his helmet.

"Send a combat unit in to investigate."

Siv Dragr · Sep 21, 2020

R E V E N G E

Tag:

The Quartermaster |

Mig Gred |

Caeos Prahl |

Kreslin Westwind |

Torrack Torrackstur |

Venku Bralor

Siv and the Quartermaster waited silently, Siv standing to the side with his gauntlet-covered arms folded in front of his chest, while the Quartermaster sat at the head of a simple square table carved from the rock that the Enclave had been buried into. The former Bounty Hunter did not know much about the enigmatic leader of the Enclave; he knew she had great skill in metalsmithing, a rare talent among Mandalorians, and he assumed that she'd been the survivor of the collapse just as he had.

But as for who she really was. . . Siv had no idea. Siv didn't know most Mandalorians, really. Clan Dragr had held only enough political power to keep themselves out of Mandalorian politics. It had worked, for the most part; a combination of legacy and ambiguity kept Clan Dragr from getting involved in the various conflicts that had consumed Mandalore over the century, and let them keep their mercenary way of life. But that had ended when the Sith had razed Mandalore, and no amount of irrelevance would've been able to save the Clan from destruction.

Siv was one of the last remnants of that Clan, and for a while, he'd thought he was the only one -- that assumption had been changed on Tatooine. Still, that made three survivors from a Clan that had numbered in the hundreds. Functionally extinct was the term he remembered from his classes as a child. His hand absentmindedly fiddled with the trigger of his holstered pistol, and finally, he spoke up in impatience. "Any idea of when they'll be here?" he said out loud.

"Patience, Dragr," came the Quartermaster's reply. She did move, merely sat facing forward towards the door, waiting for these guests of hers to arrive.

Venku Bralor · Sep 21, 2020

Tags:

Mig Gred

Much like his companions, Venku had forgone his usually armament, leaving him with his staff and vibro knife. It felt odd, to be without the familiar weight of his blaster. As they approached the door, Venku was faintly aware of the conversation held between the other two mandalorians. Instead, his naturally golden eyes were busy flitting around the room. Hidden under his buy'ce, they took in the hanger. It was spacious, with nice natural lighting. What happened at night? Did they have lights then or did it just get dark? Of the three of them, Venku was the only one who'd never been to the enclave before. Unfortunately this left his questions unanswered. Not that they were important questions.

The door slid open as the three made their way to the meeting place. What was more important was this meeting. The results could save hundreds, maybe even help him find his family, which had gone off the grid after the many battles for mandalore. It wasn't long before they stood before the meeting room.
"Let's hope this doesn't end up like that feast." The words, though spoken with humor, held a grain of anxiety. He'd prefer this didn't end in a fight to the death. Dragging his thoughts away, the togorian looked to Kreslin, flicking his tail to bat against the man's thigh. It was as much of a smile as he could give with his face hidden under the bucket. Perhaps more so, considering his teeth tended to make a typical smile look like he was threatening to rip someone's throat out.

Caeos Prahl · Sep 22, 2020

// Focus : 

 The Quartermaster

 Kreslin Westwind

 Torrack Torrackstur

 Siv Dragr

 Mig Gred

 Venku Bralor

​
Caeos lurked aside from the Quartermaster and the other verd had joined them in the wait. Her hands fiddled quietly with a loosened bolt upon her gauntlet. It wasn’t her place to speak but she listened closely to their exchange. She had grown accustomed to busying herself, rather needed too. The girl could really only begin to guess as to why she had been invited to these talks. Her cracked visor drifted between the pair she shifted against her perch next to the wall.

There was a sense of unease as the man itched for his blaster, and she pursed her lips. 

Caeos had traveled this far in good faith, she didn’t want to get shot. 

She wasn’t sure if it was the flight response or an edict of discipline, but that wasn’t the way peace talks were supposed to begin either as far as she was concerned. Though she had to question herself silently, were these peace talks? She had heard the ravings of politics between faction and clan alike, but had never witnessed them. Caeos had been too young still during the days of Mandalore, but if she remembered anything from her days beside her Buir it wasn’t their way to involve themselves. Farmers, tradespeople-they had never been a military might to hold any sway. Nor would they ever Caeos mourned, the dark thought interjected itself needlessly. 

This was business of the Enclave and she, well Caeos chalked herself up to a lone worker in theses halls. An apprentice in all but name, maybe with a lucky connection or two outside their circle. The Quartermaster had always been gracious but 

 Trajan Fett
words lingered in the back of her mind as her eyes roved the stone hall. She had come and gone to the Enclave quite liberally, a place of work firstly. She had yet to meet hostility in the face of her allegiances but she had a feeling the matter was long overdue. The slash buried under her glove and oath, reminded her well her purpose. 

Everybody always would want something, so she ought to think hard. Her mentors so varying seemed to enjoy drilling that in her head..Maybe that was the case here. Her brows furrowed at the thought, it was difficult to fathom as she shifted her weight. Maybe it was a play at unity? Maybe it was a hunch and perhaps the elder would have scolded her for naivety. Her visor drifted back the engimatic Quartermaster, wondering-she owed her respect at the very least. A bit of faith wouldn't hurt. Caeos’ shoulder sagged in finality, trying to push the thought aside as she screwed the bolt back in by hand. A heavy exhale muffled by the likes of her helmet as they waited.

The Quartermaster · Sep 28, 2020

R E D E M P T I O N

Tag:

Siv Dragr |

Caeos Prahl |

Mig Gred |

Venku Bralor |

Torrack Torrackstur |

Kreslin Westwind

The room grew quiet as the four Mandalorians waited for their guest. Other than Siv's question, he was silent. Mig had been communicating with the artificial intelligence of his various fleets in hushed tones, and the Quartermaster had been only able to hear snatches of what he was saying. but if it was relevant, she trusted Gred to share it. Meanwhile, the apprentice smith from the Sons of Mandalore, Caeos, stood in the other corner of the room, fidgeting with her gauntlet. She didn't need the force to sense the young girl's impatience, although her audible sigh did help confirm her assumption.

Luckily, they didn't have to wait much longer. The door to the room whooshed open to reveal the silhouette of three different warriors, each of different species, clans, and heraldry. "Venku of Clan Bralor, Kreslin of Clan Westwind, Torrack of Clan Australis," she greeted them each in kind. "Welcome to the Enclave."

Kreslin Westwind · Sep 28, 2020

Kreslin turned to glance at Venku for a moment after his comment, his eyes narrowing in annoyance at the youth's jibe. The...incident at the feast had been impossible to predict, something far outside of Kreslin's ability to stop at the time. Still, despite all the reasons it was not his fault, the youth brought it up again and again. It annoyed him, true, but it was also a learning experience for Kreslin. A lesson her would take to this meeting, he promised himself, as the door before the group slid open and they stepped inside.

Be prepared for anything.

Kreslin inclined his head in greeting and thanks to the Quartermaster as she spoke, introducing the small delegation from the Mandalorian Union to those in the room. He brought his right arm up and thumped his fist against his heart twice, the motion shifting the armorweave cloak across his right side as he saluted the Quartermaster, before turning to look at the other figures in the room. A few he had seen before, either are the feast as guests of the Union, or across the Enclave. He nodded to each of them in turn, before turning to address the Quartermaster, his voice emotionless.

"As Warmaster of the Mandalorian Union, I thank the Enclave for their hospitality this day, and hope that we can all works towards the betterment of our people. It has been a long trip for me and my companions, could I perhaps ask for refreshment before we get down to business?" Kreslin was careful to keep his words respectful and humble as he spoke, his hands hanging loosely at his side. It was not perhaps the best thing to make a request at the beginning of a meeting such as this, but Kreslin did not want to plunge head first into business.

The time for that would come.

Mig Gred · Oct 2, 2020

Mig looked over at the Quartermaster, speaking up a little about what he was talking about. "Know anyone who'd want to hunt some pirates?" As they walked up further though, Mig couldn't help but checkle at Venku's remarks before speaking up a bit louder in Concordian, and with a sort of light-hearted tone. "Really Venku, cause all thinks considered I thought in went well overall." He looked at the others there nodding at them all while letting the Quartermaster speak. He was there to show ships, and represent his clan in these matters. Hopefully everything would go well.