Keira Priest
The Iron
Mandalore
-Keldabe-
How far had her people fallen?The Sith occupied Manda’yaim now, defiling the very heart of their culture and existence. It filled her with incomprehensible disgust, but she had to see it with her own eyes. And so, for the first time in far too long, Keira had returned to Mandalore. As her ship touched down she ignored the sinking feeling in her stomach, that innate sense of dread that came from being surrounded on all sides by their kind. Sith. Their very existence was an insult to the galaxy. If she had her way they would have been hunted down to extinction long ago, their order forgotten.
But no. Instead they were here, lording over her adopted homeworld. How far had they fallen, indeed.
Clad in full beskar’gam, she exited her ship, caring not for the attention the armor would inevitably draw. If inquired about it she would pass it off as being a mercenary, one of the no doubt thousands employed by the Sith Empire. There had been Mandalorians working for them before, and there no doubt were now. If that excuse wasn’t enough, well, she’d met with the Sith Emperor personally in the past, and he had an insistence at calling her ad’ika. Might as well put that annoyance to good use.
Slow footsteps carried her through the streets, the three-hundred-sixty degree vision of her HUD allowing her to look upon the corruption of her people from every angle. Revolt colored her expression beneath her buy’ce, and she swore to herself then that one way or the other, they would pay for this. Both the Sith and that past iteration of the vode that had been weak and stupid enough to allow this to happen.
Flexing her hands, she exhaled her frustration in a forceful sigh, taming it for another time. This was a visit, she reminded herself. This was home. And, gods willing, one day it would be safe to call it that again.
[member="Mordecai Zambrano"]