Pirate Lord
Amidst the fire and steel of war, the storm must eventually break. During such periods of rest, mirth and revelry aplenty are commonplace. Yet in the wake of the Battle of Humbarine, the collective mood within the battered Mythos Fleet is far more somber. What would have otherwise been an occasion for merriment and diversion, stands as a time for remembrance and honor for the fallen.
As the fleet repairs and recouperates in the dead of space, a call goes out to all who stand able and willing to gather. The holographic form of Kjartan Hammer-hand stands before one and all; a symbol of the battered resolve of the fleet by virtue of his own wounds plain for all to see - including a mechanical fore-arm replacing his left appendage of flesh and bone.
“To all brothers and sisters in arms, we stand united - even after the assault on Humbarine. It remains to be seen what fruit our sacrifices shall bear, for the losses we’ve all suffered are great.” Kjartan paused, allowing his words to sink in to his fleet-wide audience. “Regardless of the impact our actions have on our greater campaign - we are iron-forged. Man or woman, we are Mandalorians - we do not falter when we are struck down, nor do we cower in fear when we meet a worthy foe. We rise again, harder and stronger until either we or our foe meet their end.” Despite the craggy demeanor in which he started, along with the obvious wounds that altered his gestures; a fire was present within the Warlord’s eyes, which carried through his voice. His words carried an intensity that shone through the holographic display, yet it pulled back for a beat as though a tentative wave preceding the rising tide.
“Even still, there is no weakness in remembering or mourning the fallen, for although they died with honor on the field of battle, they are our brothers and sisters.” Just as quickly as his tone abated, it began rising again as he grasped a tankard with his right hand. “We shall mourn, and we shall heal. But let us remember the fallen as they would have wished for us to.” He raised his mug in salute. “...that the living shall carry on in life to honor their memory. You’re invited to a feast aboard the Buurenaar’gam, where we shall celebrate the lives of those we have lost. We shall drink, eat, and if our hearts allow - be merry in the songs to be sung in their honor.
Vode An.”
Although a massive ship of war, the Buurenaar’gam houses an impressive ale hall in tribute to its commander - Kjartan Hammer-hand. Today, the Mando’ade gather to eat, drink, and remember their fallen brethren in song and what mirth can be had in the aftermath of battle.
In the wake of the Battle of Humbarine, the Rekav’dral counsel convenes in private conference aboard the Buurenaar’gam amidst the ongoing festivities - a meeting of great import that shall affect the greater campaign that lies before them. Lessons learned, mistakes to be corrected, and new directions that lie beyond the horizon.
