Come Undone

[Zef Halo]

THE SEVERED HEAD,
ECHOY'LA

Come undone

With the failure of seizing First Imperial cargo transports and the demise of Captain Ythre Berre, Rohak was able to step up and captain the pirate frigate and remaining crew away from potential destruction at the hand of the Order. Most left the makeshift crew the moment the damaged vessel arrived on Terminus. Sab and Hira went their way and Rohak chose not to follow. He sold the ship as parts and funded his voyage to the only place left to him.

Echoy'la

Home as much as a place he'd never stepped upon can be called home.

With great reluctance upon his shoulders, the dar'manda arrived to the home of Clan Vizsla. Someone once told him 'family is family.' He wondered if it had been Mirax, his sister, who'd uttered this words but after nearly dying at the Red Coronation as part of the Alor's entourage, Rohak's memory wasn't the sharpest and, maybe, he did not want it to be.

Helmet and armor off, the least Mandalorian looking karker in the cantina, the pirate slammed a glass on the floor to bring everyone's attention. Silent glares annoyingly pierced him. Shifting his eyes all around the cantina, the blonde uttered:

"I am forming a pirate crew. I need tough people and a tough ship."

"You're a pirate without a ship?" Someone cackled and the rest followed. In reality, Rohak was hardly known to Vizsla. His family had left Wayland, back when it had been their home, to chase the stars and monsters in the Unknown Regions. The pirate fondly remembers short lapses of memories of him and one Tamara Wren, the daughter of the Alor who welcomed them back in the fold prior to the Red Coronation.

This wasn't going to go the way he thought it was.

The doors of the cantina slid open and a gust of a grave's air followed in.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

Little happened on Echoy'la without Ronan being made aware.

The return of an errant soul to the fold was always of interest to him. [member="Rohak Vizsla"]. What did Ronan remember of him? He had been with him at the Red Coronation, true. As was his sister. But Mirax had stayed with the Clan instead of abandoning them. Abandonment was one of those terrible things, no? It was the shadow that first entered the bar. Followed shortly by Vizsla himself. If the cantina first had some bustle (interrupted briefly by Rohak's intention), then silence swept across them as a tide.

The Alor almost never frequented these bars and cantinas.

Some hailed him, the blooded ones who had fought side by side and felt... if not comfortable, at least familiar. Others pointedly kept their gaze in their canteen. It wasn't immediately clear what Ronan had come here to do. His attention slid from one face to the next, silent, eyes watchful. Then. They located Rohak and he was immediately on the move. It didn't take more than a moment to take the seat across from Rohak.

That same silence grew even more pronounced.

Chairs creaking as necks strained to hear what Vizsla was about to say.

A pause.

"Our family is not subtle, are they." Dry tone before he gestured towards the barkeep. "Round on me. As long as you all mind your business, ya?" There was a cheer there, before they did return to their own business. One didn't refuse a free drink.... or a direct order from your Alor. As the ale was poured into his glass Ronan studied Rohak again. New lines, a bit older, maybe a bit wiser. He had never been much about socializing. Figuring out a person.

Unless it was at the end of a beskad.

"I hear your jaunt away from our people was less than successful."

 

[Zef Halo]

His eyes, just as everyone else's in the cantina, drifted to the entry of the clan's Alor - Ronan Vizsla. A dead silence stiffened the establishment as the menacing brute of a man approached the pirate finding a seat next to him. It had been some time since he had since the clan chief. His face seemed slightly more scarred, more wrinkled but his intimidating aura remained the same.

Ronan emanated the spirit and reputation of House Vizsla. Even more than Ra.

The pirate agreed silently with the Alor and found himself taking a long gulp from the free round of alcohol before settling his eyes on Ronan.

"Worse than expected, better than it could have been." Rohak grumbled the reply. A thought of Mirax flashed through his mind but he waved it away.

What did the Alor want from him?

Or.

What did Rohak want from Ronan?

"I am looking to form a crew, Alor." He kept his avaricious desire for credits and loot in his mind.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Rohak Vizsla"]

"Expectations are the harbinger of our final breath."

He reached out, wiping some of the foam of the Kri'gee. Black. It seeped down like ash and Ronan had taken a liking for it. The liquid swirled as the glass was pulled towards him. He didn't take a sip, not yet, letting the words swirl around them just as that liquid. Pondering it, before Vizsla looked up again. Brows furrowed. On anyone else it might have looked like concern, confusion, misunderstanding.

But even something as simple as a wrinkle of the brow felt dark when it came from Ronan.

"You don't ask about Mirax." That is when Ronan pulled the drink towards his lips and let the black seep in. The burn was hard, pleasant and it made his sight flow brighter.

"Family is family, Rohak, son of Rau, son of Kadala."

The glass was set back, fingers tapping the hard wood of the table. Rough, it hadn't been brushed in years and he could feel parts of it trying to cut his skin. But he kept his gaze on Rohak. It was a gaze that few managed to forget. No matter how much time had passed. It both looked into you... and through you. Like you were both nothing and something at the same time.

Balancing on a knife's edge. A breath away from being cut out of life's tricks, just because of a single misstep.

"How long before you return to us and do your duty?"

 

[Zef Halo]

If one was not aware of Ronan's reputation, one would assume him just a little bit more than a brutal savage. The looks matched the description. In reality, the Alor of Vizsla boasted a sharp as a razor cunning so his use of the names of those closest to the dar'manda's heart triggered a shift in his mind. Now the thoughts of his family emerged like a flood and Rohak wondered if he was so easy to be read by the gaping black bottomless ponds of eyes the Clan chief carried.

Logically, duty sprang up in their dialogue and Rohak shivered within. A word he despised with passion. The question Ronan asked was, to the pirate's view, not a question but an order roughly packed in the form of an inquiry.

The pirate finished his drink in one breath leaving a burning trail all the way down to his liver. It scorched him like fire but the pain could not push away the thought of his sister, the only live member of his direct family, from his mind. Just as Ronan had wanted. There was still a long road ahead before Rohak could match Cabur.

A very long road.

Rohak's features darkened, a grim frown drawing new lines upon his face. Eyes shifted away from Ronan's piercing gaze and unto the empty mug before him.

"What do you need?"


[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Rohak Vizsla"]

It was will against will.

And few had the same force of will as Ronan.

Some called him a butcher... some would be right. He was. A killer, a murderer, butcher and destroyer. But the why was always where they lost themselves. They thought it was clear-cut hunger and thirst for blood. Some of it, sure. To say that Vizsla didn't enjoy the war would be to wash away the stains. But Ronan did what he thought was necessary and no more than that.

Measured.

The difference was that his measure of need was different from others. Not constrained by simple moral of civilization or the rules of law. When he looked into your eyes he didn't see precious life.

He saw an instrument of chaos that could not be tamed.

Except in death.

"House Vizsla marches. Every blooded warrior, we fight with Koda Fett, former Alor. Warlord." That last bit got a faint smirk tugging at the edge of his mouth. For some reason that amused him. With, not for. Ronan had refused to bend the knee to Koda. A man without vision was not a man worth valuing. But the battle was his battle and Ronan would not allow Koda to throw his life away.

Because without Ronan's support that was exactly what would have happened.

"You need a ship? A crew? You will have it. I will give you a battle, I will give you blood... I will give you riches." He leaned in a bit, pushing the glass to the side. "But you fight for Clan and House."

 

[Zef Halo]

The Patriot and The Deserter

--

With Koda Fett.

Of course, Ronan wasn't known to easily bend the knee and Rohak remembered very well the price he had to pay for that during the Red Coronation. Many Vizslas remember and will always remember. The blood of brothers and sisters painting the walls of the wretched throne room of the Hell Wolf. The Exodus of Vizsla ('tis should be a lore sub btw) from their homeland of Myrkr to the further reaches of the galaxy.

House Vizsla remembers.

Even within his dar'manda 'soul' a flicker of a flame lit. A vision of inferno to which the Infernal and her lapdogs succumbed to with the torch to light the blaze of retribution firmly in the hands of the mythical heirs of the jai'galaar. It all flashed through his mind for less than a moment's time. Some things were worth more than credits, Rohak would come to realize that much, much later in his life.

The promise of riches, his desperate situation and Ronan's mind games with his sister unfurled his tongue with a reply he would've otherwise never considered, nor accepted.

"So it will be done." His forearm offered a traditional Mandalorian handshake. There was a certain dose of pride in the pirate after his Alor trusted him to captain. A position of leadership bore responsibility greater than most could imagine. "And Mirax?" He shifted the topic slightly, his voice lower, perhaps with a small hint of embarrassment. "She's really looking forward to this." The tone of a younger brother asking about his older sister. Some things never changed. Perhaps Ronan knew that best. Family is family.

He beckoned the bartender for one more drink for both men.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Rohak Vizsla"]

He saw it.

The moment that he had him.

Nothing was betrayed in his eyes or lines. Not the satisfaction burning in his veins, nor the grim reality that one more body had been added to the war. One way or another Vizsla had added more death to the pyre. Either Rohak's.... or the people that Rohak would end for the cause. Such was the way of war. Those people that concerned Ronan nothing more than a butcher had forgotten something.

You didn't grow old in this business without a certain sense of guile.

"So it will." Vizsla responded before clasping arms. The pact sealed. He had always disliked these sort of things... the politics, the tricks and ploys. But Vizsla had figured out early enough... that he was good at it.

Once the patience had been established.

"Mirax is one of my best. Hunter. She convinced me you are worth a damn, Rohak Vizsla. Never forget the debt you owe her." The glass accepted and they raised it. Then raised another. Pouring down, the burn turning into scald. It was good for a moment. One round for the house turned into two. Then three. Until eventually the glass was put down again.

How many times drained?

Who knew.

"Come. I will show you your future."

 

[Zef Halo]

Always had been the best one. Mirax, that is. Always generally more competent than all four of the siblings and most trusted by their parents. She wasn't the oldest, too, only Rohak was the younger one. Shev, the eldest, had a charisma of a leader and while Arrilk had an affinity to practical and hands on solutions, Mirax simply was just better.

He made sure to drink quickly to erase the Alor's constant mind games before he followed him with a hazy vision to the unknown.

And when Ronan brought him to 'his future', he could only stare.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Rohak Vizsla"]

The future was back at the Vizsla compound.

Echoy'la... was a difficult thing.

It wasn't all Vizsla territory and the end of that. Multiple clans, multiple stakes, some had been here from the start too. So, even if House Vizsla held the largest authority (maintenance of the air filters, water sanitation, food distribution did that), Ronan still ensured that there were split territories. There was a noticeably shift the moment they entered the Vizsla compound. Everything was more orderly here, stricter, regimented.

Order.

The salutes here were freer, the people... more relaxed yet guarded all the same. Discipline was tight.

It didn't take long for them to turn to a corridor and enter a separate barracks. It was less crowded here. Less talkative too. The people here kept to themselves, only touching their chest when they noticed Vizsla.

Spread hand, open palm against the heart region.

Strange salute that.

"The Death Watch have lost their way. I am disinterested in revisiting the old name. Too many... links to the past." The lost past. Ra was gone and buried. Yasha ruled, her hold over the non-Vizsla Death Watch all but absolute now. They kept using the name and that diluted it. Something new. They moved past the rows of beds, then entered an isolated hangar. There were ships here, smaller ones, but... also a few larger ones.

The hangar expansive.

"A new group is needed. One that pillages, destroys, spreads terror. To lead the charge and weaken our opponents, before the main force arrives."

A glance over his shoulder.

"Nothing honorable about it, Rohak. But we understand how much weight honor has out there, no?"

 

[Zef Halo]

Rohak listened carefully to the clan chief's words piecing it all together with what he saw as they passed through barracks after barracks. Ronan and Fett sought war, possibly the war of the ages for the Mandalorians. A war for survival, some would say. Whichever side lost would disperse like ash in the wind. If the last civil war was costly, this one would be catastrophic. What riches and power House Vizsla possessed may all be gone, destroyed and eradicated. Was Ronan really prepared to put on stake the clan's life? It was true that an eye called for an eye but how far before Ronan's zeal overtook his senses? Questions Rohak could not find answers to but also did not want to seek them. No matter what duty he undertook now, he would always seek freedom.

Mirax.

Or so he thought.

When they reached the hangar, a piece of the pirate was glad he did not meet his sister somewhere on the way. What he saw was not simply ships but a naval force. Not many pirate captains possessed, or at least commanded, more than one ship. He wondered for a moment how had Vizsla accumulated such wealth after their exodus but refrained from asking. His own conclusion came to the order and discipline he noticed as they ventured to the hangar. It pushed him away. Perhaps a man born and raised in the stars was always cursed to seek some sort of emancipation and fight all forms of structures, patterns and orders. Ronan had played him. A sudden urge to see whether his sister was even alive surged through him but he shackled his emotions as best as possible.

"Honor gets you killed." The pirate grumbled before he locked eyes with the Alor. "This force would serve you well for the war to come but I am also a pirate, Alor."

The proposition was clear.

[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Rohak Vizsla"]

Already Rohak was trying to crawl back to what he was.

It wasn't unexpected.

"You are what the House, the Clan and your family needs you to be." Ronan immediately corrected him. Forcefully. With the same fire in his voice that had whipped the younger generations into shape, whenever the Alor had come down personally to attend to their battle lessons. Some Alors might have considered it beneath him. But Ronan had seen it and still saw it as part of his duty. Letting the younger ones see him, learn from him.

It made the whole stronger, did it not?

But how far could Ronan push Rohak, before he broke? Or before something inside him broke and he ran again. Would that be something Rohak could push past in the end? The Alor squinted at him, wishing once more that he had a better tool for this job.

Someone he could trust.

"But there will be times of silence between the sounds of madness. You may do as you see fit then." A step towards. Years had passed and he still had that way of his. "When the House calls you answer. Do we have an understanding?"

 

[Zef Halo]

"We do."

The reply came reluctantly but obediently. Ronan delivered an intimidating sense of threat and danger just with his presence. It only seemed logical for him to have become Alor of Vizsla instead of the smith warrior - Grim.

Rohak found it logical and rather comforting to switch the topic to what mattered in the now.

"How well are the ships maintained? And the crew? All Vizsla? The sooner we get them on board the sooner this force can adjust to the ships and to me." Despite his age, there was a confident tone of maturity and knowing of naval operations. Born on Wayland but bred in space. The dark unknown void was his home.

Not Echoy'la.

Not Wayland.

And not Clan Vizsla.

The last - a thought severly suppressed before the presence of his alor.


[member="Ronan Vizsla"]

 

[Ronan Vizsla]

[member="Rohak Vizsla"]

"Every one of them."

All loyal to him. Men and women he had fought with for years, the hardest ones, the ones that saw war for what it was.

Life.

Who understood there was nothing deeply personal about death. Death, destruction, decimation, it was all part of life. These were the ones that would be the core of the Black Hand. The ones that would fight and destroy without losing themselves in it. That was Ronan's hope anyway. "Well. We took these ships in raids or made them ourselves." Vizsla had pushed hard for increasing their capacity of construction. Shipyards that only served them, docks that only serviced them.

Refuel depots.

Everything.

House Vizsla was slowly becoming self-sufficient after the loss of Wayland. "I expect you to bring things home for the House. Anything with value. What you can't bring with you, destroy." That was the entire point of it here, no? Destroy what you couldn't take, take what you could.