Daddy Issues

[Kilum Bralor]

Kilum Bralor ​

Location: Fort Solus, Ganath​

Interacting with: [member="Vellavert Bralor"] | [member="Ines Balor"]​

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Kilum's gaze scanned over the construction work, his eyes trying to pick out where they needed improvement, better reinforcements on the upper areas of the fort. He was a much better Hunter than any kind of construction foreman, he knew that much. This wasn't exactly his sort of pace. He'd have to get used to it though, if he wanted to make any progress here. He never figured himself a leader, even if some people already here saw him that way.

As he pulled his eyes away from the half-finished tower, Bralor's thoughts went to what was to come. It was something more, or it at least was looking that way. Clan Bralor had been scattered for a long time. In this fort, and the people now scattered around it, he saw something more united. More solid. Race, age, sex, old cultures, none of it came into anything. It didn't matter who your parents were, or even who you used to be. Only who you were now. Who you would be.

Suddenly, Kilum was taken aside by one of the others. It was a hurried explanation he got, something that showed a bit of concern from the younger Mandalorian speaking to him. It wasn't something he was used to, she was usually confident in everything. He was brought to the scanners, and shown what had her so riled up. Within moments, he was on comms.

"Get some people up high and watching. Vask, you stay on the cannon. Tylo and Beek, you get in your ships and tail them. Don't engage." There was a ship coming, unidentified and not just to the planet proper. It was coming from off-world, and heading straight for Solus. As he watched from the walls of the mountain Fortress, Kilum stared with a stoic look from beneath his helmet. Whoever they were, they weren't threatening the people here. They could land peacefully, or fly off.

 

[Vellavert Bralor]

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Vellavert Bralor​

Location: Ganath​

Interacting with: [member="Kilum Bralor"] | [member="Ines Bralor"]​

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A lone vessel roared through the space around Ganath, ancient in the design of her space-frame, the jagged blade-like wings sliced into the vast sea of stars under her like a tidal wave of soaring intent. The purpose of this vessel to many would remain an enigma, one which is dubious at best upon the first detection, but to those within, it represented salvation. Months had this drug on, searching every lead, every loose string, everyone with a loose jaw, or more aptly, one that could be broken open. This investigation had come to a head, Ganath, Ines reassured Vellavert this was it, this was where he had to be, so they followed.

The Me'Suum'Ika was an old vessel, venerable by even the greatest standards, her space frame was thousands of years old, at least, but constant upkeep and a fair bit of refitting had kept her competitive. It'd be hard to navigate through the literal coming storm, but Vellavert had faith in the old girl, at least he'd pretend to. The seat next to him was filled only with his helmet and gauntlets, the feel of armor on the controls of a starship just didn't feel natural, in fact, it felt more like a sacrilege to him. The helmet had found itself replaced with a strange old headset, mounted directly to the ships communications systems, a small glass plate to act as a visor and a feed to several key points of observation.

A low groan trembled along the superstructure, then a low bone-chilling shriek as the outer-limits of the massive storm of Ganath began to take its toll, the shields of the vessel would need time to recalibrate, and until then they would be left vulnerable, should the supposed location of their long-lost Father prove itself to be a dangerous one. It was a gamble, but one of the utmost need. The low background hum of the engine would offer Vallavert a beacon of reassurance, albeit a tenuous one. The glow of buttons and readouts drench his face in a blue-electric veil as the clicking of switches and the twisting of the flight controls flood the sound of the cockpit.

The serenity of the situation lies shattered in an instant, a terrifying flashing red light swamps the face of the Mandalorian, in a dancing rhythmic pattern of terror. The last leg of their journey was upon them, or so he hoped. The vessel had entered the storm proper, a test was sure to begin.

A quick gnawing at the inside of his cheek served as a prelude, his lips part to usher forth words drenched in rolling waves of confidence, or at least, the facade of it: "We're getting close now Sis. Alarm's set, we're entering the field proper. Make sure you're ready... hope these shields of your work. Be easier if there was a map through this storm, still, can't expect things to be easy."

The shrieks of the hull turn to wails of pain - the burning plasma of the engines seared a path through the rumbling radioactive gasses of the storm surrounding Ganath, a faint blue trail behind them vanishes in the turbulence. Please don't break. Please don't break. Please don't break.

 

[Madison M. Maxwell IV]

Hutt Space, Ganath System, Aboard The Me'suum'ika, Unknown Time | Willow

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"When am I ever wrong, brother?"

The sing-song voice of Ines echoed from behind him, and the youthful woman set a hand on the back of his pilot's chair, looking out the viewport alongside him, "The shields will hold," Her tone was low and re-assuring now as her gaze dropped to look at him, "They have to."

It'd be an undeserving end to their adventure if they died from radiation poisoning, after all. Was it an adventure? Perhaps that wasn't the right word. Letting out a quiet and barely noticeable exhale, her fingers tightened on the chair's backing when the Me'suum'ika buckled enough to throw her off balance, teeth clenched tightly. They'd sacrificed too much too quickly to lose it all on a fool's gamble. Thankfully, Ines was a betting woman, and she'd put all her chips in the Ganath pot.

He was here. Something inside told her that it was true. Hiding beyond the irradiated storms of this Godforsaken planet was the only link they had left in the galaxy, and she wasn't going to let it slip through her grasp. Steady and onwards.

And, please, don't break.

It would be almost 10 minutes of gut-wrenching screams from their poor vessel before they broke through the Ganath Cloud and into the atmosphere proper. At once the ship seemed to 'relax', no more awful screeching noises, no more alarms, just blissful silence as they coasted down towards the surface. Towards their father. She couldn't hide the pleased smile of relief on her face at the fact they'd made it out alive. A sensor pinged, and Ines' smile vanished. Moving over to a section of the control board, she spoke quickly as the readout began to spit out data, cursing quietly at what the ship was reporting, "There's two ships. Chit, I think they're on us. Hard to tell their origin, must be from the surface."

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Spoiler: Interacting With

[member="Kilum Bralor"] | [member="Vellavert Bralor"]

 

[Kilum Bralor]

Kilum Bralor ​

Location: Fort Solus, Ganath​

Interacting with: [member="Vellavert Bralor"] | [member="Ines Balor"]​

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Kilum continued to stare upwards, the rangefinder on his helmet coming down and moving over his visor. He could see it properly now as the rangefinder zoomed in, staring up towards the ship. He was trying to figure out what sort of vessel it was. Maybe some sort of Freighter, wasn't big enough to be a Corvette. Unless it was just a really big Starfighter, but he had doubts about that. Looked like the sort of thing that lasted for a long haul.

He spoke into communications again. "Keep on them. Guide them to the landing pad. If they try and break off, fire." He didn't say 'take them out' since he knew his pilots would get the point, they were good enough. It was always warning shots first, disable if you can, destroy if you can't. No sense in needless death, but they had to protect their Fort, especially when the damn thing wasn't even finished yet.

The Mandalorian hoofed it down some more sets of stairs as some of the others gave him passing glances, seeming confused at what was even going on. There wasn't usually much excitement on the construction site, so there were already quite a lot of interested peeks and looks. He supposed he couldn't blame them. He hadn't been as cooped up in here as some had, but it'd be enough to make you crazy for any sort of fight. Even if you were just watching it.

Bralor finally stepped out onto the landing pad that jutted out from the side of the mountain, the sidecape covering his left arm billowing in the wind that spun around him. He didn't make a habit of wearing it, but it made him a little easier to identify around here - he was apparently the man in charge, so that was important for some.

Kilum spoke once more, but this time patched his communications straight to the unknown, and possibly dangerous ship. "Land your ship at these coordinates. Don't try and break off or you will get shot down." No outsiders should've known about even this idea in the first place, nevermind the actual planet and mountain it was happening on. It must have been some kind of accident, but he couldn't assume that. If it was, then they could get something to eat and be off. If it was someone looking though, that'd require more time here.

 

[Vellavert Bralor]

Vellavert Bralor​

Location: Fort Solus, Ganath​

Interacting with: [member="Kilum Bralor"] | [member="Ines Bralor"]

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It was a bumpy ride to be sure, but it was his ride. The Me'Suum'Ika had made it, somehow. A single sigh of relief escaped his lips, a growing gash was left behind, sliced into his lip, born of sheer anxiety. Two star-fighters had arrived on the wings of the vessel, a broken and shattered voice screeched into the comms headset, assumedly still affected from the traversal of the stellar storm. A few broken coordinates barely broke their way through, he could assume he was ordered to land somewhere though confirmation would be nothing short of useful.

There is an unspoken language to which all must swear fealty, that of movement. All have learned this dance, from the nobles on-high conducting their dance of intrigue to the lowliest among them. Spacecraft was no different, there were a few universal signals to send to another vessel if all other forms of communication fail. Vellavert's increasingly sweaty palms tightly gripped at the controls, entombing them in a wall of paranoid flesh as he rocked the vessel from side to side. It was a simple gesture, akin to that of waving a hand, a general greeting of communication and intent, but most importantly, a friendly one. If all went well, they'd recognize the gesture and guide the ship to the requested location.

In this case, it worked. Their luck had run out. Making up for the somewhat faulty state of the internal electronics of the vessel, one of the far nimbler interception craft moved to guide them into the landing pad. In but a few minutes the Me'Suum'Ika would arrive at Kilum's fort and sluggishly lug itself into position. The hulking chunk of ancient steel strained and whined as it touched down when suddenly a loud crash echoed outwards. The front landing leg had failed to fully extend, resulting in the vessel leaning forward and landing on its protruded cockpit with nothing short of a massive thud, that leg was always a little finicky, but this, this was just embarrassing.

Vellavert scrambled in his seat to get his gauntlets and helmet back on. His hands wet with anxiety struggled, and eventually, his helmet slipped out and onto the floor, where he would once again drop his gauntlets in a poor attempt at a recovery. If nothing else, it would provide an entertaining scene for those looking into the now lop-sided cockpit. Eventually, the young man jumps to his feet and fastens his equipment, only a single thought crosses his mind - I hope nobody saw that.

He quickly trots to the landing ramp, turning his head to Ines and speaking softly "Okay. Here we go..." he reached out to press the bright red button and lower the ramp, but instead, a pitiful whirr echoes into the hall. Vellavert, in an entirely controlled response, rapidly smashes the button, because that's always worked. Eventually, it would crack open enough slide in a prybar, where he'd eventually manage to force it free, speaking once more, his voice drenched in a tone of embarrassment "Alright! Here we go!"

 

[Madison M. Maxwell IV]

Ganath, Kilum's Fort, Departing The Me'suum'ika, Unknown Time | Willow

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Ines held back a loud snicker, standing by as her brother fumbled from one misfortune to the next. Simply watching as he managed to get the ramp down with amused but indifferent eyes. Behind those eyes, though, the sister was absolutely delighted and horrified at Vert. It was always funny to watch people fail, but there was an extra twinge of can you not keep your chit together for at least 10 minutes? that made Ines inexorably disappointed. Disappointment did not bar her from taking more than enough pleasure out of the entire situation, though. It was like a sit-com, except it was her worst nightmare. Today, of all days.

"You done?" Her own helmet was tucked under her arm as she looked down at the ramp, then back up to Vert expectantly. Pushing past the feelings of disbelief, chagrin and brief shame there was trepidation all over her face. The next chapter of their lives began as soon as they left this Godforsaken ship, but it was scary steps to make.

Something else nagged at the back of Ines' mind too, the quiet realization that things weren't going as they should. Foolishly she'd assumed this would be like the vids. You find your long-lost parent, embrace in an un-naturally long hug, then fly off into hyperspace dramatically as the credits rolled. She hadn't accounted for the fact that their supposed father had no inkling they were even here, what they looked like, how to even recognize them. For all he and his knew, they were hostiles, or lost souls, or even worse. Reality, as the saying went, hits like a rancor. Setting a hand atop the hilt of her blade, she gave her twin an awkward smile before starting towards the ramp, letting him recover.

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Spoiler: Interacting With

[member="Kilum Bralor"] | [member="Vellavert Bralor"]

 

[Kilum Bralor]

Kilum Bralor ​

Location: Fort Solus, Ganath​

Interacting with: [member="Vellavert Bralor"] | [member="Ines Bralor"]​

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What was wrong with this pilot? Kilum stared up from where he watched as the shuttle attempted to give some sort of signal by...what looked like drunkenly swaying from side to side in the sky. Through his rangefinder he could see his pilots up above, and could tell that even they looked confused beyond belief. Hearing the inquisitive tone of what he was asked over the communications, he tried to respond as firmly as he could. "Nah, pretty sure they're sober. Just keep guiding them."

Probably was some smuggler off his head on Juma Juice, now that Beek mentioned it. Had to be, right? Unless they were having some serious engine trouble. Kilum moved down the stairs of the fortress before he finally reached the walk way to the landing pad, just before the oddly-piloted ship finally 'landed', if they could even call it that.

Chit, it almost hurt watching this. What was wrong with them? Sullustans, maybe? Might have trouble seeing in the light. Or maybe it was some low-rent alcoholic. If so, they'd let him sit and get sobered up before he endangered anyone else in the sky. Of course, the view he actually got was much worse. There were two of them. Mandalorians, even. And they looked sober. Something about that irked him more than anything else.

As the older Mandalorian stormed forward, reaching the ramp, his gaze first went towards the girl. "Keep that on, if you plan on keeping up that flying." He motioned to her helmet, clearly having very little of the driving abilities of whoever was somehow trusted behind this boat's controls. After his gaze went to the man, he stopped.

The girl. She looked...familiar. Where did he know her face? He looked between her and the other, something about them seeming...odd. What was it? "Who are you two, anyway?" They had been headed straight towards them, so...maybe they wanted to stay. He supposed that would make sense, but...still. Maybe he'd seen them somewhere before.

 

[Suja]

Suja​

Location: Fort Solus, Ganath​

Interacting with: [member="Kilum Bralor"] | [member="Ines Bralor"] | [member="Vellavert Bralor"] (All Indirectly)​

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Suja was awoken by the sound of an aircraft looming overhead; the unusual happenstance of this happening shot a signal to his brain, forcing himself to wake up. In a seated position, he turned left. His helmet was placed upon a shelf, as he had left it. He grabbed it, placing it under his wing, then made his way over to his set of armor, proceeding in putting on all of his armaments. Meanwhile, the aircraft loomed overhead for an usual amount of time; it indicated a less than experienced pilot. Could he be intoxicated? An under-aged pilot? Hopefully not. Of course, he made these assumptions, not even outside to take a look for himself. Eventually, the stagnant aircraft came for a landing, and at which point, Suja had decorated himself in his Mandalorian armor. Having done so, he then proceeded in leaving his tent to the outside, his helmet tucked in his wing still.

Fort Solus needed work, and the notion was much more obvious than merely perceptible. Through the various construction projects, his eye caught a half-finished tower that was being actively worked on by some of the workers from the construction company they had contracted. Suja was less of an adopted son under Clan Bralor, and more of an affiliate, as he was intolerant of the perception that Mandalorians around the galaxy had of their culture. It was that of a completely vile parody for the wicked justification of arbitrary power and ego. Normally, it would be a criminal misconception, but the lack of an unbiased judiciary was exactly the problem. It was only necessary to send himself into exile with Clan Bralor, refusing to take allegiance with any clan for the sake of possibly jeopardizing his freedom like the galaxy had seen with the Mandalorian Empire. Nevertheless, he the clanless hunter made his way to the spaceport, wanting to see the recent arrivals for themselves, given their incredibly short list of unexpected arrivals.

He made his way into the docking bay, noticing Kilum had already taken first to greeting their recent arrivals. He followed him in as well, and upon entering the inner starship he noticed Kilum stop in his tracks as he saw the young woman, another unusual happenstance given his demeanor. He stood there, silent, observing the situation, like the notoriously quiet Mandalorian that he had been known to be. Likewise, if it was as his intuition had told him, Clan Bralor would be getting a lot more complicated.

 

[Vellavert Bralor]

Vellavert Bralor​

Location: Fort Solus, Ganath​

Interacting with: [member="Kilum Bralor"] | [member="Ines Bralor"] | [member="Suja"]

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Vellavert stared on, filled with a strange sense of awe as they boarded his vessel. In the moment all he could think to do was look on, it was almost too much. No, no he must steel himself, first impressions meant a lot, and so far, theirs hadn't been exceptionally successful. Vellavert took a deep breath and simply removed the helmet he had just put on a few minutes ago, Ines wasn't wearing hers, so why should he bother? Those here had already revealed themselves to have far from malevolent intent, that was good enough for him. It was hard not to take in another deep breath, free from the filters of the helmet, the first time his lungs had so happily taken in fresh air in so long, the taste alone was almost intoxicating.

The young Mandalorian flashes a bright happy smile, proudly bearing the oversized canines of his father. He speaks softly with newfound courage "Sorry about that.. Uh... It's an old ship," he lightly bounces on the balls of his feet before resuming "The name's Vellavert." Zara had always told Vell he looked like his father, who he just so happened to now be staring down. The accuracy of her claims would now be tested, one way or another. He struggled, but struggle as he might, he couldn't find the words in his mind. Talking was never really his forte, that was Ines' job. One he hoped she'd be far more efficient at.

In the meantime, all he could do was look to the other arrival in his ship, speaking once again "Sorry about the mess."

Boy, was he. This entire affair had become a mess, between the failing comms, the ancient ship, the broken landing leg and boarding ramp, the day was still young, he could only hope it'd be smoother sailing from here on out.

 

[Madison M. Maxwell IV]

Ganath, Kilum's Fort, Unknown Time | Willow

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"The flying was this one." It was clear even after that short sentence who was the more collected one out of the duo, especially after the fumbling introduction from her brother. Setting a hand on Vert's shoulder the female smiled nonchalantly, attempting to recover from the awful, awful circumstances of their landing with a bit of trusted charisma, "And I'm Ines. Thanks for not shooting us out of the sky, it's appreciated. Do you think you guys could..." Her gaze quickly flicked from the man in front of her to the one off to the side, then back to the central demanding figure, "Give us some directions? We're looking for someone. And working off of relatively unreliable intel. No ill will towards 'em, just looking to meet."

That last part about sketchy info was certainly. In a galaxy with 100 quadrillion souls and counting, it gets harder and harder to find just one in the sea of population. Thankfully it seemed their woud-be father had made quite the name for himself out here. Hopefully, Ines silently wished as she waited to see what the duo would say in terms of her request, a big enough name that they'd have heard of him.

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Spoiler: Interacting With

[member="Kilum Bralor"] | [member="Vellavert Bralor"] | [member="Suja"]

 

[Kilum Bralor]

Kilum Bralor ​

Location: Fort Solus, Ganath​

Interacting with: [member="Vellavert Bralor"] | [member="Ines Bralor"]​

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"You can pay for the new paint."

He was staring firmly from underneath the helmet, the Mandalorian glancing over towards the other landing pads as the fighters began to touch down. Good thing they got back safely, at least. Though he hadn't doubted it for a moment. His eyes rolled back towards the two newcomers, only more curious now as to who they were. They looked...familiar. He couldn't place the boy, but the girl..who was the girl? It was something more obvious with her.

"Depends on who you're looking for." Kilum crossed his arms over, wondering whether or not it would just be better for him to smack one of these kids across the face for not wearing their helmets, along with piloting like that and scraping all the paint off of their nice landing pad. He made a small motion with one of his hands, signalling towards Ines' helmet.

"While you're at it, where'd you find the suits?" They didn't really act like Mandalorians...move or stand like them, either. They'd come from somewhere else. He wasn't about to accept any frauds - would only be violent depending on their answer, though. Mostly, anyway.