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Cin Vhetin

mandalore-le-rassembleur-01.jpg
ORC SPACE​
It had been a long time.​
Too long.​
The stares at the passing refugees, vode who had been cast aside. Felt alienated. On their own planet. In their own system. By a war in which he waged. By violence that he dealt. He might've hurt their friends, their families. His presence here was only tolerable due to his reputation.​
And a begrudging acceptance from [member="Gilamar Skirata"] to meet him.​
Gilamar took no precautions, Preliat was stripped of his weapons, though many kept their distance. Preliat did not need a weapon to inflict pain and misery. Sometimes his words were all that it took. But now, he intended to use his words to mend a wound.​
He walked slowly, escorted up to the bridge. It was where Gilamar was waiting for him.​
Gilamar came into view.​
"Brother."
Preliat removed his helmet and stared his mentor in the face.​
"I request an audience with you."
 

Gilamar Skirata

Life before death. Journey before destination.
Writer
The Ketyadyr - Echoylir En Route to Manas from Utapau

When Gilamar had received the young Wolf's message, it took everything he had to not just let the fleet shoot him down on sight, though with both their luck he'd somehow survive and then he'd have Preliat Mantis on his list of people who wanted to kill him, though that list was getting shorter every day. It was one of the benefits of getting old, all of your enemies died along with your friends. Gil stood at the top of a flight of stairs that lead up to the bridge, a pair of exiled Supercommandos flanking him. Gilamar himself wasn't wearing Beskar'gam, his had been taken by Dorn Skirata during the Civil War and he refused to have a new suit made if it wasn't made in his ancestral home of Kyrimorut. So instead he wore a drab mix of dull browns and blacks. A pair of spacer's trousers and a button up shirt with the sleeves rolled up.

Gil grimaced at the younger Mandalorian.

Here before him was the man who killed Jasper Ordo with his bare hands, who had helped the Death Watch rip his home away from himself and so many others, many of whom traveled the stars with him now. His right hand tightened into a fist and relaxed as he sighed.

"Speak, boy. And then leave."

[member="Preliat Mantis"]
 
He set his helmet on a nearby console, gazing out across the stars that washed across his face. Lines on his face appeared that weren't there the last that Gilamar and Preliat spoke appeared, however briefly.

"My father once said I should never be fearful of the darkness. Because we have loved the stars too fondly to be fearful of the darkness."

He turned back to Gilamar.

"I have reasonable fear for the future of our people, Gilamar."

He touched his helmet, however lightly.

"Due to my actions and the actions of those that I considered to be in the right. That war tore us all apart. There was no right side. I was after revenge. I never cared for Ra's beliefs, his madness of expelling the force. I only burned with white-hot revenge."

His hand slipped from his helmet.

"And now, as we stand on the precipice of yet another series of endless wars, my daughter stands as the Mandalore for our people. A position she had naught be in." He ran a hand through his hair, sighing.

"I fear for the future of our people. Your exiles, expelled after conflict ceased...you. All the others that lost their lives in a ultimately fruitless victory. I seek to restore the Mandalorian peoples as one."

He locked eyes with Gilamar and stood closer to him.

"I cannot do that while Yasha sits upon her throne."

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]
 

Gilamar Skirata

Life before death. Journey before destination.
Writer
Murmurs filled the room as the Mandalorians on the bridge tried to not listen in but couldn't help but do so. Gilamar swept his arm through the air, silencing them all and let out a heavy sigh. Still a boy. Not yet a man who knows when to stop. But the old Mandalorian was curious.

"I've been through this before. Monroe's was not my first Civil War. At the end of the Dark Times, long before you were born, the Mandalorians struggled to find the resources and man power to run our cities and feed our families. Our people, spread throughout the Galaxy, weren't coming home. They'd set up roots elsewhere, places they thought were safe from the Plague, places where they could find work. And they had set. Down. Roots." His eyes locked with Preliat's.

"It wasn't until the Bear that I held hope for peace on Mandalore, nor did I think we would reclaim and connect worlds that had been married to the Mando'ade for decades. We even expanded, taking on more resources than I have ever seen us have, more than many Mandalorians had ever seen. And over the course of a decade it was lost. It was if the Dark Times were ending again and we fought, and fought, and we fought some more." He stepped down the bridge stars and looked up at Preliat, who was nearly half a foot taller than he.

"We have set. Down. Roots. Why should I, or any of us, follow you into another blood bath? Do you have some army I'm not aware of? I doubt it. Or are you just desperate to have your fantasy family? Because," he stepped back and motioned to the bridge, "You took away their fantasy and hopes of raising their families on Mandalore. Why should we help you fix your broken family Pup? Why should we not simply wait for their eventual demise as you say and just replant ourselves on Mandalore on their ashes and let their bones bring forth a new generation?"
 
"I am aware of the ever present fact that our people have suffered, Gilamar. You need not remind me of the suffering that the Mando'ade have been afflicted."

He looked out to the stars when Gilamar did, and then turned back to him, but first stopped to glance at the Mandalorians in the room.

"The dissent is set upon the contenders of which I have spoken to already. Silas is with me as well- among others that you would recognize. I need not name them all, but we have backing. What we lack however, is not tenacity. Is not the willpower, the drive to do so. We lack a key component in our bid to restore our people, Gilamar."

His eyes grew somber.

"I am not a leader. My brother, and those allied with me are capable warriors. Tacticians. Experts. I am a sledgehammer designed to do nothing more than break the enemies of our people. I am, and most likely will not be- fit to hold that title. But I know a man who is."

He locked eyes with Gilamar Skirata.

"The damage that Ra and my daughter have done can be undone. Untie the binds that my daughter has made with the Dar'Jetii. Restore our people's unity. Expel this cancer of hatred and discontent from our people. But I cannot do it with my words and my fists, Gilamar."

He placed a hand on the older man's shoulder.

"The Mandalorians need a leader. They need someone who they know will not steer them wrong. I see no better Mandalorian the one I am standing before."

He took a deep breath.

"I will not ask you to fight. It is not your place. But I will ask for your support when the time comes. I will ask for your guidance. And if we succeed, then I would ask that you take the mantle once more. For our people."
 

Gilamar Skirata

Life before death. Journey before destination.
Writer
The room became silent, save for the low hum and beeps of electronics. It was no secret that Gilamar had once been Mand'alor, but as old as he was now...Well it had been done before, but he'd already held that mantle once before, he was essentially a Gogi now. Gilamar shook his head.

"No Pup, that time for me is long gone. I couldn't ever take the title seriously knowing I sent younger generations to die without me at the battle. There was a man who would have made a great leader, but you killed him with your bare hands." It was an obvious jab at him for killing Jasper. What remnants of the clan were left were spread between these ships and the rest of the Galaxy, but such was the life of a Mandalorian. Life and death, they were both celebrated and mourned, but he tried to never hold a grudge against another Mando'ade, because they all fought for what they thought was right and honorable. Or maybe he didn't hold a grudge because he was like a grandson.

"Your group must find their leadership in their own," he sighed heavily. "I will not be participating in your war, but I won't stop any of the Mando'ade of Echoy'lir from leaving with you. Stay a while. Get to know the people whose lives you've destroyed, I'll...lend you a few shuttles and you can take who will go with you."

His eyes grew serious and piercing, "But if you bring this war back with you into this side of the Outer Rim, to my- OUR new home. I will end you."

[member="Preliat Mantis"]
 
"There is no other man I would rather have than you. There is no us or them. There is no your Mandalorians, or Yashas, or mine."

He looked at the gathered Mandalorians. Some stood in fear. Some stood in awe that Preliat Mantis actually existed.

"There is only our people, Gilamar. Our people are one. They are broken, and they are hurt. Some of them have been cast out, left behind and labelled as exiles and marked as traitors, but i would not see it so. I would see our people returned to their lands, and our home rebuilt not in the image of Ra, or Yasha, or my own, or some great noble Mandalore- I would see it built in the image of our people being whole again."

He rolled his shoulders and looked at the gathered members, before turning back to Gilamar.

"That man still exists. That man who can lead our people back to unity, to prosperity, is you. You have lead our people through troubled times before, Gilamar. I would ask you to do it again. I am begging you. There is no other Mandalorian up to the task than you. I would only ask that you hold the title until our people are whole again, Gilamar. Until the darkness has passed."

They both experienced the Dark Harvest together. Fought in that awful war. Faced that evil together.

"Tell me I'm wrong and that there is no stronger leader. Tell me there is another in this galaxy that is more fit to lead, to be a symbol of hope, or prosperity, than you. Than you, who have lead our people in war, and in peace. I would see you lead them again, one last time- from this darkness. Lift the veil from their eyes and show them that they can be as whole, and as great as we once were."

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]
 

Gilamar Skirata

Life before death. Journey before destination.
Writer
"I'm just a Gogi now Pup. I won't say it again, No. But stay, eat, sleep. See who will rally to your cause. Four men do not constitute an army." Gilamar turned and walked up the stairs back to the main bridge of the ship and gazed at the camera feed of the stars. He had said his piece, though he had no doubt the Pup would be back before long asking again.

[member="Preliat Mantis"]
 
"38 million does."

He said bluntly, before turning to the gathered Mandalorians.

"I have been called many things in my life. But a new one will be called to me. Traitor. I will undo the damage that the Kyrt'sad have inflicted upon us all. By seeking my own revenge, I have damned the Mandalorians to a life of potential failure. I seek to right this wrong."

He tightened his fists at his sides.

"Even if it means undoing everything I love."

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]
 
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