Private First Step of Trust

[Mig Gred]

Mig couldn’t help but be a little wary about this meeting. It seemed wrong to be this distrusting of someone who claimed the title of Mand’alor through killing a mockery of it, but as they said, Mandalorians have a long memory, and the last “Mand’alor” he followed led to more lives being lost. Maybe that was why Mig was so tense about this meeting. He didn’t know this man, but he hadn’t heard anything bad about him either, so the Alor assumed he was at least a good leader.

The courier vessel would soon slip out of hyperspace over Mandalore though, and begin to descend to the surface. As it landed,Mig simply hoped that what trust he had now was well placed.

Kreslin Westwind

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

Kreslin waited on one of the landing pads of the new Governmental Palace, still under construction. Large sections of the structure were still exposed to the outside air, creating terrible drafts through the structure that forced many to wear extra layers of clothing, even during some of Manda'yaims hottest days. Luckily today was not one of them, and Kreslin was able to wear a simple pair of pants and a long sleeved shirt. You did not always need to wear your armor, and Kreslin was enjoying the chance as the courier vessel touched down.

The landing of the vessel sent up a brief gust of wind, sending Kreslin's black and grey hair up for a moment before it settled down. He folded his hands behind his back casually, one hand gripping the wrist of the other, as he waited for the meeting between himself and Mig Gred to begin. He was skeptical about the potential outcome of this meeting, but he had decided to let it proceed. If nothing else, it would give him a chance to make further connections with those outside the borders of the Union.

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig looked out, seeing the Mandalorian he assumed was the Mand’alor. As he walked off the ship, a V-1 astromech rolling behind him. He looked at the person, having a hard time reading him from under the helmet. Mig never was that skilled in the mental side of the Force, but right now he wished he was. Either way, he’d extend a hand in greeting, speak with his usual Concord Dawn sound.

“You’re the one who defeated the Pretender, right? The new Mand’alor?” While he tried to hide it, some worry might have been detected through the Concordian. He’d look over to the man again, sighing a little. “I guess I should introduce myself? Mig Gred, Alor of Clan Gred.”

Kreslin Westwind

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

Kreslin inclined his head slightly as Mig introduced himself, as was only polite to do. Glancing at the outstretched hand, Kreslin gripped it firmly for the briefest moment in a shake before letting it go. Kreslin took in the man before him for a moment, and then the droid coming along behind him before he spoke himself. "I am Kreslin Westwind, Alor of Clan Westwind, and Mand'alor the Reclaimer. The false Mand'alor the Conciliator fell by my hand, yes."

Turning, Kreslin gestured towards the Palace. "Come, we may speak further inside."

Mig Gred

 

[Mig Gred]

"Well, it's god to meet you Kreslin." Mig seemed a little calmer, walking behind the Mand'alor as he led them inside. It was still a sight. It wasn't like the ships in the fleet. While others may not have liked the drafting or chill, for Mig it was a Kad send. It seemed to calm him a little more too. It felt less closed in, and more open. He knew it probably wouldn't last, but hey, it was something. He looked at the new Mand'alor, waiting to enter the meeting area, but deciding to speak up right away.

"I've got to say.... This is a lot of progress for a short period of time. Seems to be coming along well." He didn't want to bring up business right way, even if it was gnawing at him, but he wanted to wait and see how Kreslin would react.

Kreslin Westwind

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

Kreslin nodded his head at Mig's words, looking up around at the palace himself. While it was still under construction, the eventual shape and design of the place could begin to be seen. A mixture of traditionally Mandalorian architecture and a more modern take from multiple civilizations around the galaxy blended together into the slowly expanded structure. Kreslin was proud of what it was taking shape to be. "Yes, we have received significant resources and aid from the Silver Jedi Concord, which has greatly accelerated the reconstruction efforts for Sundari. The rest of the city is even further along than the palace here, as it should be."

Coming to a door guarded by two Mandalorian Supercommandos, wearing a mixture of black and red armor, Kreslin lead Mig inside. The room itself was rather simple, with a single table flanked on three sides by couches. A large window stood at the far end of the room, showing the distant mountains that were a dominant feature for Mandalore. Taking a seat on one of the couches, Kreslin gestured for Mig to take another. A woman came out of an adjoining room, placing a plate down with cups and a large bottle of dark blue liquid. Thanking the woman briefly, Kreslin removed the stopper from the bottle and poured two cups of Corellian Ale, something light enough yet with enough enjoyment in it to make a discussion more tolerable.

Extending the second cup to Mig, Kreslin leaned back on his couch, taking a deep drink from his cup before speaking. "So, Mig Gred, Alor of Clan Gred, what is it you wish to discuss."

Mig Gred

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig nodded as the Reclaimer explained that the rest of the city was much farther along then the palace, and how the Silvers brought in a lot of supplies to help out. It was another good thing to hear in the Alor’s mind. He was good friends with one of the padawans in their Silver Jedi Order, So it did make that friendship less... awkward.

“As it should be,” Mig parroted thoughtfully. It was something he didn’t think a certain other Mandalorian understood when he called for continued attacks, even though they couldn’t handle it again. Mig looked up for a second. It wasn’t like the fleet was in orbit or anything, but.... He was brought back planet side by the sight of the supercommandos, he nodded to both, delivering a “Su cuy’gar” as he entered.

Nice, simple room. He sat on the couch, looking at the ale before taking the offered cup and giving himself a quick sip. He then looked at Kreslin. What did he want to discuss? In all honesty there were probably a hundred different things, but right now, Mig had one thing on his mind to bring before the Mand’alor.

“Well Mand’alor.... I’m not sure if you can tell, but me and my clan are originally from Concord Dawn. Luck really for why we’re not a footnote in history now. Since then though, we haven’t had a home other than our surviving ships. We couldn’t stop thanks to a mix of things the dar’jetii would love to... take care of. And now, half the population of the fleet are refugees or freed slaves.” Mig stopped, clearly some worry coming through about what he was about to ask. “I feel like it’s a long shot, but I figured I’d take it and see if, somehow, I could finally get my people back home. To give them somewhere to rest their heads that isn’t moving.” He then tapped V-1, and an image of the fleet. He looked back, sighing a little. “I.... I’d give anything I need too.... It would take time, but the fleet has multiple combat ships.”

Kreslin Westwind

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

Kreslin nodded his head, taking another sip from his cup as Mig spoke to him, laying out the broader strokes of what he had come this day to ask. In truth, Kreslin already had an idea what the Alor had wished to discuss. Many Mandalorians from across the galaxy were beginning to make their way into the Mandalorian Sector once again. Some came to join the Union, while others sought to claim land they was once theirs and remain wholly sperate from the new nation. The latter group was proving to be a difficult situation to deal with.

"I picked up on the Concord Dawn in your accent, though it is a bit muddled, Mig Gred. We have all been away from our true homes for too long. I would be more than happy to allow your Clan to return to Concord Dawn, and begin resettling. Its obvious enough we need more of our people within the sector once again if we are to have any hope of rebuilding. If your Clan was to receive some land, say...three hundred hectares to begin with, what would you do with it?" After delivering his offer, Kreslin leaned back further in the couch, his eyes watching the Alor across from him closely to gauge the mans reaction, and to judge his response.

Mig Gred

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig looked at Kres, shocked by what he had to say. 300 hectares of land. He looked back at V-1, surprised still before he finally started to speak up. “With that much land.... Well, probably start to set up a new town, or rebuild one that’s still there. We got our hands on a Lucrahulk a while back, so we could use its core ship for the time being, along with all those former slaver ships we’ve... borrowed. Get farms built back up, maybe a new for....” Mig stopped, realizing something. He looked back at the Mand’alor, clearly having his gears turn as he looked at him. He wasn’t sure he’d heard it right at first.

“You didn’t ask for anything in return?”

Kreslin Westwind

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

Kreslin listened with interest as Mig Gred spoke, his eyes watching the man carefully. He had finished his first cup and was in the process of refilling it as Mig brought up his question. A brief smile crossed Kreslin's face as he leaned back, taking another sip from his cup. "You are right, I did not ask. I like to think of myself as a good judge of character, Mig Gred. You have not tried to hide your intentions from me, and you seem to speak out of a need to help your Clan. I am the Mand'alor, though some do not recognize me as such. Whether or not they do, I am still the leader of the Clans. Their wellbeing is my only thought in life, and it appears we have the same goal this day."

Sighing, Kreslin looked up at the ceiling for a moment, weighing his next words carefully. "But you are right, I have a condition. I give you this land so that you can build a new home for your Clan, but I ask you do not limit it to them. Many of our people have been scattered across the galaxy, and have only just begun returning to the Mandalorian Sector. Many do not have homes yet, and our resources are stretched thin to accommodate all the new arrivals. I give you this land, in return for you building for not just your Clan, but for all those of our people who need a new home."

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig listened carefully, looking for any hint of deception. But it was the truth. Kreslin was serious about this. He saw it as his job to help the Clans, even those who didn't see him as Mand'alor. The Mandalorian looked at him, smiling a little as he heard the only condition. Mig tapped on the table before speaking up, seem more at ease now.

"Mand'alor, my Clan's survived by being open since we lost our world. Like I mentioned, half of the people in the fleet at this point aren't Mando'ade. Leaving what we build open to all is how we survive right now. I can open of the Star Phoenix's ring to others as well. It's not much, but it's got the space for anyone that needs it." Mig sighed a little, looking at Kreslin again as he thought. He had some things that could help, given time to open them to active use or build.

"So this union of yours really is something, hey? I'll be honest... I wasn't entirely sure when I first came."

Kreslin Westwind

 

[Kreslin Westwind]

"I was not entirely sure of it myself when we set out for Mandalore." Kreslin spoke quietly as his eyes drifted past Mig, staring at the far wall silently. "We were on Myrkr, home of Clan Australis when we received word that the Sith were coming. Many called for us to make a stand there, to defend a homeworld of a Mandalorian Clan against our most hated of foes. I overruled them all, and led everyone we had against the Sith here, on Mandalore. Clan Australis held the line against the Sith, buying us time to liberate the true homeworld..."

Kreslin reached forward, placing his cup down on the table and grabbing the bottle. He took a long draft from the bottle itself, slowly sinking backwards into the couch. "An entire Clan, brought to the brink of extinction by my actions...but Mandalore is free. The Union is built on the back of suffering and loss our people have always been forced to endure. But here we are."

Mig Gred

 

[Mig Gred]

Mig listened carefully to Kreslin, his mind flashing back to Myrkr.... He'd been there that day, even if it was less for Australis and more for a promised he'd made before. He had to admit... after being practically thrown into flames a few times by their Alor he may've been a bit colder than he should be too it all. He never wanted the clan just wiped like they were though. He then watched as the Mand'alor took a drink straight from the bottle, and could even feel it ting of pain from him. Mig eyed him, sighing a little.

"Mand'alor, you may have about a decade on me, but I can say I've never seen good come from drinking pain away." He then started tapping his helmet, pulling a cable out of V-1, and hooking it in. After a few taps, he pause a helmet feed on the sky above Myrkr, sighing.

“I was there. I can tell you right now what happened isn’t your fault. No one could’ve predicted this. Not even a Jetii’s visions....” Mig then leaned back, taking another drink from his glass.

Kreslin Westwind