Faction Haat, ijaat, haa'it (Mandalorian Protectors)

[Mia Monroe]

Already, even with so few, their efforts were beginning to take shape. The city of Keldabe was nothing close to what it was, half of its building were still rubble, but they'd managed to get the spaceport up and running, its landing bays were starting to fill with old reclaimed ships. Relics from a bygone age, but when your funds and friends were limited, you made do with what you could get.

From there, they had worked outwards. the first few streets, a mix of homesteads and small business fronts. Mandalorians trading goods from off world, trinkets, weapons, supplies, all gathered on their own accord. The Oyu'baat was at the new towns heart, serving drinks and food to all and was never empty of patrons. Somehow, even after all this time. The Oyu'baat would outlive them all.

At the edge, the reconstruction of MandalMotors tower was under way, work was slow, with few hands but a start was a start.

Word had gone out, to all those Mia and Ijaat Mereel had spoken with, to all those they'd call brother or ally. It wasn't a demand or request to bend the knee, to Mand'alor the Rekindler, it was simply an invitation. Come home brothers, come see what we have done. Come see the hope for our future with your own eyes. And for those who were not Mando'ade. Come and recruit. If you need mercs, here is the place to find them. If you seek to secure business for the future, now is the time to do so.

There was food and drink to be had, Mia had even taken care to set up a fighting ring, a ysalamir in nutrient tanks on each post with a simple request. If you fight, you do so without weapons and without the force, and within the ring only. Challenge who you like. There was bad blood between all the clans and nothing helped release it than a challenge of combat. That was the old way, and even now it was still the best. And for those that wanted to help? The city was vast, opportunities to set down roots and rebuild unlimited.

Mia hovered near the spaceport, watching and waiting for ships to come in, an odd tension knotting her stomach. There were so many ways that this could go wrong, the invite had gone out to outsiders and brothers alike. Some of their brothers despised outsiders more than each other so she'd collected a handful of good men and women, loyal to Ijaat and made it their job to keep the peace. She let out a low exhale before turning to the group she'd assembled. "Fan out, mingle or keep to the edges, I don't care, but keep your wits about you." the nodded and wandered off leaving Mia alone.

Set your weapons aside and blow off steam in the combat ring. Have a disagreement with someone? Here is the place to hash it out.
All can be challenged and all challenges should be answered, less their honour be questioned.
The pit is fitted with ysalamir to ensure no unfair advantage is given to those gifted with the force.

Drink, be merry and eat all the food and celebrate Mand'alor the Rekindler and the start of a new age.
Discounted rates available at the owners discretion.
Looking for work or for mercs? This is the place.

Get stuck in to the rebuilding effort.
Set down roots if you desire or simply pick up a hammer or tools and help raise the MandalMotors Tower to its former glory.
Got business and want to have a hand in the foundations? Here's your canvas.​

Art Credit to Artemis Verd ​

 

[Elise Ahana-Gwyneira]

Elise Vizsla had been working hard since joining the effort.

Rebuilding MandalMotors Tower was the first step. Elise was far from a crafter, but she capable in other areas. As a medic and shaman, she could easily provide first aid for anyone injured on the building site. Furthermore, she had a green thumb. In other parts of the ruins of Keldabe, she was enjoying planting some trees and flowers to make the place look less like a ruined spaceport and more like a city. - Well, a good looking city. Elise actually hated cities. But she would not undermine the historical significance of Keldabe to her people. But it was being at Mandalore Itself, it was standing on the very planet held so significant to her people, that gave the Enclave Exile the greatest feeling in the galaxy. Of course Elise was working every day to restore it!

On top of all of the city construction, there was even more. Elise was serving directly under Ijaat Mereel and Mia Monroe as a scout and outrunner for unexplored ruins and outposts. The days were long, and the nights were short. Of course, Elise was still training as well. And her mind was flooded with internal struggles and mental plagues. Everything from family problems to Sith problems to Force problems to Mandalore problems. She easily could stay busy during the daytime, to keep her nightmare thoughts and memories at bay. But the moment she slowed down, it all came back again.

The Ajayid had not been planning to join the feast tonight, but there was one bane the her potential for endless productivity - her metabolism. She usually was satisfied enough after shoving three protein bars down her gullet in under a minute. But she still craved real food. On one hand, she did not want to meet any Enclave Mando'ade at the feast and risk a fight breaking out. But on the other hand, she was dying for some good old Mandalorian food.

So for the first time since she had come here, Elise took a day off. Still wearing her beskar'gam, she kept her buy'ce to her side as she slipped into the Oyu'baat. It was flooded with different people, various Mandalorians from around the entire galaxy. At the moment, she thankfully was unable to recognize any Enclave armor in the crowd. Breathing a sigh of relief, she approached the bar.

She was asked if she wanted a drink. She ordered the largest meal available instead.

Sitting in the corner, keeping the herself, Elise started shoveling food into her mouth. Ah, yes, Mandalorian dishes! She would soon be returning for a second order of this - or maybe another dish, she did not know.

All the while, she kept her Force Sense active. If anyone approached her tonight, she would Sense it.

 

[Artemis Verd]

Artemis had followed Ijaat Mereel and Mia Monroe after meeting with them on Vandelhelm. She was hesitant of course, but felt that it might be worth while to see what they were about. Artemis' ship entered the system with ease, she navigated the vessel to what had been Keldabe City. Part of her wondered how many knew her true lineage, not the Verd part, the part where her father had been the very Manda'lor who served the Sith. He thought he was doing the right thing, to try and protect the Mandalorians.

Part of the reason why she used Verd as opposed to Gratiir. Then again, all that seemed like ancient history, Artemis wasn't about to tell anyone who her father was anyway. It didn't matter, what mattered was what she did. Right now, she was about to land the ship and meet with everyone there. See what needed to be done, and how she could contribute to these Mandalorians' cause. She had yet to really consider herself one, anyone can find armor, beskar wasn't as in short of supply as some thought. You just had to know where to look.

Her ship settled onto the dust ridden fields that had been barren for decades from the looks of it. Keldabe was as it always seemed to be, under construction. The cranes and towers in the background told that story, Artemis hoped to get to know the people there in the foreground that seemed to rapidly approach as she drew closer.

Elise Ahana-Gwyneira | Others​

 

[Valery Noble]

Mandalore

​

Outfit: Factory Link | Wedding Ring
Weapons: Blasters | Lightsabers
Tag: Ijaat Mereel Mia Monroe Elise Ahana-Gwyneira (Ijaat invited me)

Mandalore.

Having been born a few hundred years after the Mandalorian Wars, Valery had grown up learning many tales about the conflict. About the people the Jedi had been up against, and also about the Mandalorian's home. A lot had changed since then, and of all planets in the Galaxy, few had been ravaged as much as Mandalore.

To many, it was a surprise that it still existed.

Now, a Mandalorian had declared themselves Mand'alor, or perhaps those with him had. She didn't know the man, but as the Alliance's Sword of the Jedi, it only felt fitting for her to meet him. Perhaps she could prevent even more conflict between her people and the Mandalorians, or at least find out what the stance of this particular group was.

After a long journey to the planet, Valery's X-wing settled down on the surface. She hadn't activated any jammers, nor was she trying to hide her approach vector. She wanted them to detect her, and hoped that they would soon be there to receive her. She jumped from her X-wing, pulled off her helmet, and shook out her long hair.

Once ready, she started walking towards the source of life she felt.

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

Theme​

Wiping sweat from his brow, Ijaat turned. In the distance, an X-Wing had settled down. Ijaat stood stripped to the waist, upper armor in a pile, working the forge. There was no doubt that somewhere in Keldabe, some of Mia Monroe 's men were very confused, looking frantically for the Manda'lor they were supposed to be guarding. Eventually they'd find him. They were good sorts, but he needed to feel the heat of the forge furnace and dance to the ringing of the metal.

Dropping a piece in the quench, he turned to thee couple before him. Young. Manda, had he ever been THAT young? The two had been celebrating their nuptials, and saw him working. Thinking him just another smith, they had stopped by to ask questions and dream of affording a piece one day. The lad, Taeson, had a father who died in some forgotten corner of the Galaxy as a merc. He was new to the fold, and still seemed a bit jumpy to be on Mandalore itself. Jaela, his partner, was as tough as the iron that Ijaat worked, and held a promise of violence in stance and eye that spoke of someone who had grew up a Mandalorian, and she had confirmed as much as they talked.

Pulling the kal knife out, he turned to Jaela and nodded, taking a seat by the forge and grabbing a canteen, wishing it were more than water. He gestured to the pair, but in particular his gaze was on Taeson.

"Go on. You've listened to an old man talk enough. Grab the hammer, take a few swings one of you. Both of you have the spirit, and the skill can be taught to anyone with that will."

Almost hesitantly, the man stepped forward and gripped the hammer. Jaela nodded, beaming brightly for once and chided him in encouraging tones.

With a readied look, the lad began pounding on the beskar as he drew it from the flames, working as Ijaat had shown him. Something in the old smith softened a bit, a memory of his own youth, and he smiled broadly and watched, giving gentle words of advice at key points. It wouldn't be the best blade ever. But it would be beskar, and the man would have made it with his own two hands. That meant something in the end.

"Thank you, Manda'lor... He... He has needed this. With his father gone... He's been drifting, and I worried I'd lose him."

Grimacing, but hiding thee grimace at the title swiftly, he nodded.

"Everyone needs a push sometimes, lass. He's a good man. He'll make a good husband, and a better father."

With her own grunt of surprise at his words, his vod'ika smiled softly, confirming to him he didn't know yet. Ijaat was too steeped in too many traditions of the Force. He could sense a second life growing within.

"You get yourselves over to the Northern Valley past Keldabe. Find the slopes of beskar'yam, the Iron Home. That's my place. You send him to the forge and tell the foreman I said he's to be trained. And you can meet Mia, we need more Protectors... She'll like you. We need more like you two..."

Feeling the approach of Valery Noble , he raised his voice and called out, standing to welcome the guest. He knew a Jedi when he felt one, or at least a very accomplished Force user without much to suggest the taint of the Dark Side on them. His hand softly went to the beskad at his waist, and he shook his head to the young parents-to-be at his side as he called out, using the motion of resting his hand on the blade to silently press a tracking beacon. Mia would see it, and even though it wwasn't a distress beacon, she would come... As would others. If something was about to go sideways, it wouldn't end the way this one thought it might. Even if she felt welcoming and calm.

"Ho there friend! You've caught us in a lesson, but tell us your errand and we'll be glad to help you on your way..."

Mia Monroe | Elise Ahana-Gwyneira | Artemis Verd

 

[Treoff Kellak]

Mia Monroe | Elise Ahana-Gwyneira | Artemis Verd | Valery Noble | Ijaat Mereel

(Invited by Ijaat)

He took a breath, adjusting his grip on the manual controls of his Fallax-class Freighter, the publicly traded name being the Bowls of Palpatine, but he didn't know if it had any record of being in Mandalorian space. Either way, that isn't what he was concerned about. Racing through his head, he was genuinely nervous. An absolute nobody outsider, coming to this legendary homeworld at its weakest. He had no idea how they would react. Nor, how they would react to his gifts.

Scheduled practically in tow behind the Bowls of Palpatine, two more old timer HT-2200 Medium Freighters carried construction supplies. Treoff may not have been a master of the trade, like his father was. But everyone that worked with him, was. So he knew exactly what the Mandalorians could use. Mandalore... Manda'yaim, that's what they called it, right? Treoff was nervous because all he ever knew about Mandalorians were the stereotypes. He knew he could count on them being the honorable type, but him being an outsider, he didn't know if his presence and offer would be an insult.

Of course, as a man running a comoany, he was hoping to get his feet wet around here, get his comoany an outpost here. But it was more than that... Treoff knew these were people that showed his beliefs like no other. Outside of the myths, legends, and stereotypes, he wanted to learn from them. Maybe in time, even become one, if they would accept him. But first... Mandalore. Their home. Their... home. He knew what it was like to lose your home, for it to be destroyed to nigh extinction. Thankfully, his fathers friends were there for him. As for Treoff, being here? He was just paying it forward.

"Sir? Are you alright? The other ships are ready to proceed," a helmsman chirped up. Treoff had been sitting far enough outside of hyperspace, away from Mandalore as he contemplated his decision. Almost as if he woke up from a stupor, "yep, yep," he chirped back, "let's proceed. Contact Keldabe City Landing Bays, see if we can permission to land, and if I can have an audience with this new... Mand'alor."

 

[Mia Monroe]

Location: Spaceport edge
Tags: Valery Noble Ijaat Mereel

Mia was watching the ships come and go from the edge of the spaceport, making note of new faces and old, listening to the comms chatter between her men as they tried to find Ijaat, mild amusement playing across her features, though hidden beneath her helmet. she could tell them that she knew exactly where he was. In fact she could have taken several steps to her right and been able to see inside his forge for the other side of the port. Mia would always know where to find him even when he didn't want to be found.

It would be by the heat of a forge, with a hammer in his hand, that was where he was most comfortable, and right now, Ijaat was feeling all kinds of uncomfortable with the acceptance of his title. The arrival of the X-Wing wiped the amusement from her,

"Jhi?" she called on the comms "do you see this?"

"She looks very nice with a crosshair on the back of her head." Sharpshooter and overwatch, Jhi had been one of the first recruits in Mia's guard. Her response drew a smile to Mia's lips. Ijaat's beacon lit up and she heaved a sigh pushing herself off the crate she'd been leaning on.

"Keep her in your sights. The rest of you, fan out around the forge. Don't engage unless Ijaat gives the word."

If Darth Malum of House Marr showed up...well, she would have to find a way to stop that bridge burning when it started. She crossed the spaceport and closed the distance between her and the Jedi as she approached the forge, coming to stop a few feet behind her, thumbs looping through her belt. She'd no doubt notice the others, bearing similar colours to Mia, appearing at her flanks, leaning casually and she'd definitely feel Jhi's rifle sights on her from atop on of the buildings. There was no real threat, more of a gentle warning. We see you and we're watching.

 

[Korso Rook]

Korso watched the X-Wing descend through his helmet's broken visor. Mandalorians climbed over rigging while their langskib plowed through dead earth. A snarling canid skull draped over one pauldron was stitched onto the warrior chieftain's massive fur cloak worn to protect from Mandalore's harshest elements. When others abandoned this world as lost they had kept the faith. They had survived.

"Sorcerers," he growled.

Superstitious whispers passed among them. The songs warned of those who fought with such powers. Songs were all they had anymore to remember their people's great legends and ancient triumphs. Those who came from the stars brought better technology. Recording devices. Datalogs. More importantly jetpack fuel. If not for their offworld resources, Korso might have already unleashed the whistling birds by now.

Instead, he picked up a great bone mythosaur axe and wasted more precious fuel blasting off from the ship's deck. Tradition demanded he either kill Ijaat Mereel or acknowledge his claim but their people were scattered and the Creed scorned by too many. Razing Keldabe could mean their homeland's final extinction.

"He consorts with enemies of our people," Korso scoffed at Mia Monroe after landing near the forge.

 

[Elpsis Kerrigan]

((Posting with permission from Mia Monroe ))

The location was a private booth in a moderately rowdy bar at the spaceport. "Make your pitch, be quick about it and don't try to feed me any purple prose about your how noble and righteous your oh so grand cause is," Tulako Brak, a red skinned, scarred Zabrak Mandalorian, said crisply. She was clad in beskar'gam, save for the helmet, and drunk whiskey from a flask, boots resting on the table. Gears and servos whirred when Elpsis walked towards the table and dropped a crate with a small thud. When she opened it, the Mandalorian saw it was filled with precious gems. "How's that for an opening pitch, huh?" Elpsis asked airily. "Consider it an appetiser."

"I'm gonna have those checked to make sure yer not trying to dupe me. Real bad idea, by the by," the Mandalorian commented. But she did give the gems a long, calculating look. "You know Firemane can outspend you easily."
"Oh, yeah," Elpsis conceded with a shrug, "but they're getting stingy. Waging war's expensive for a corporation when there's no client to pay you through the nose, and their investors are getting twitchy. Hazani," she glanced at her Qadiri companion, "what did those defectors tells you again?"

"Firemane offered them company stock and promissory notes, no credits, no coin," the tall Qadiri warrior woman said in accented Basic. Her dark hair cascaded about her shoulders and she had several tattoos on her forehead, cheeks, neck and from her jaw to her lips. An imbued sword was sheathed in her scabbard. "They don't value warriors."
"Still bombing you pretty good, aren't they?"
"Yes, the situation's serious. They've pounded cities from the sky, rounded up entire communities in detention camps to be starved and tortured. And yet...and yet...we're still here. Their soldiers fear to go out into the streets or the wilderness without an escort of armoured vehicles. Because any civilian could be a partisan about to hurl a bomb at them, because a simple patrol could turn into a death trap."
"They're made for positional warfare, but we have no fixed fronts, and we're making their lines of supply bleed. They have watches, we have time," Elpsis added.
"Can't beat them for real unless you can get into space," Tulako replied, while taking a gulp from her flask.
"And their shares are falling. What glory is to be gained in their service?" Hazani spoke, a gleam of a challenge in her eyes. "For that is what what your people strive for, is it not? To prove yourself worthy of your ancestors' legacy."
"Don't lecture me about our code, aruetii. You're not Mando'ade," the Zabrak said bluntly.

"No...but the ways of my people are not so different. We both understand life is strife, that the weak are crushed beneath the heel of the strong unless they become strong themselves. I was told your mother was a mighty warrior of your people, and you uphold her legacy. Just as I honour mine. And if you seek more than material riches, we can offer you something Firemane will not..."

The Zabrak raised an eyebrow at that. "And what would that be?"
"Land," Elpsis responded. "Plenty of islands on Arkas, especially once we've kicked out the bloodsuckers and parasites. Tropical planet, lots of remote or sparsely populated islands that make good hideyholes. Firemane would like the whole planet to be one world under copyright. But me...I like freedom, and people ready to stand up for what's theirs."
"And in return, you get my boys, my firepower, my expertise," Tulako said, looking thoughtful. "Let's talk ROE."

"War's not kind," Elpsis answered matter-of-factly. "The villas of the Firemane bigshots, and of any corpos or noble who works with them are free game. Pillage them, burn them, take their yachts. Leave the scum with nothing. I'll pay you a bonus for any corpo bigshot you bring me...dead or alive." There was something almost feral and vicious about the smile on her face, all teeth bared. "But native civilians and children must be spared if possible, surrenders from native auxiliaries are to be accepted. This war is not being waged against Tygaran commoners."
"And the galaxy troops, as you call them?" That referred to Firemane soldiers not native to Tygara or Arkas.
"No prisoners. They die. Same applies to deserters and anyone who betrays us. Anyone who fights loyally is going to be rewarded handsomely...and anyone who breaks faith is going to get a blaster bolt to the head. Understood?"
Tlako took her boots off the table and stood up, finishing her drink. "I'll discuss it with the clan. If we're in I'll ask for that before we make our pledge." She pointed to the chest of gems.
"Fine by me."

 

[Tharil]

"Who hasn't been an enemy of the Vod at this point."

She'd arrived with the others. The call of Mand'alor, whether of someone worthy or not, wasn't something to ignore. Come, see for herself. That was the goal. She'd figure out her place here eventually, but she couldn't hide the amusement in her tone as she glanced towards Korso. "Alliances come and go like the wind. Do we need to keep everyone marked as an enemy?"

Korso Rook | Mia Monroe | Ijaat Mereel | Valery Noble

 

[Artemis Verd]

Artemis made her way toward what seemed to the main 'feasting' area. Vague memories of life on Concord Dawn came back to her, days of watching crafters and artisans work. Days of helping out in the fields, and nights where people came together as a community to share in the hunt or the harvest, sometimes both. All of it seemed to be so distant, a past so far out of reach and yet here it was almost as if it hadn't gone anywhere. The Nabooian-raised woman crossed the threshold and looked around, others looked at her and whispered. Artemis couldn't help but feel that perhaps walking in bearing Clan Verd sigils wasn't the greatest idea. It was all she knew, her mother Amaya Cardei-Verd the result of Isley's one night on Naboo with Ajira Cardei of House Theed.

The young woman pressed onward and settled at the bar, she quickly asked for the accepted currency and paid it after ordering a meal for herself. Her Force sense was strong enough to detect another in the room. Artemis shied away from introducing herself, it was hard enough being a Verd alone with her clan. A whelp out in the galaxy with no one to run back to, very un-Mandalorian like. Her Sith Heritage, also granted by the very same grandfather was also there. It was just too easy to slip toward the dark side, the attunement was there. Instead of seeking out the other Force sensitive, she merely focused on her meal.

If that person was curious enough, they could sit beside her, Artemis took off her helmet and set it in her lap as she ate.

Elise Ahana-Gwyneira ​

 

[Elise Ahana-Gwyneira]

Another Force Sensitive was in the room.

Gifted in Force Sense, it was immediately apparent to Elise. It was a lighthouse in a foggy sea. She finished her first plate, then stood up to order seconds. She ordered her other meal, then looked over to where the Force Sensitive was. Elise was conflicted... should she join her?

Did she want to?

Elise sighed. She was struggling with trust issues so much. She just wanted to feel a sense of connection to her fellow vode, despite being a traitor to the Enclave. But this was not the Enclave. This was Mandalore. Breathing in a brave, sharp breath, Elise took her second plate and sat at a table across from the vod. Sensing for her emotions, she felt a reserved nature from this individual. Reserved and... secretive.

Elise tucked into her plate of spicy casserole, opting to leave her alone for a while. She was still hungry, after all! As she ate, in close proximity to the other, she tried to figure out when was the right time to strike up conversation. Of course, being an extrovert, it was not long before she spoke.

"You too, huh?" Elise wiped her mouth with a napkin, looking over to the girl. "You're Force Sensitive too?"

Artemis Verd

 

[Treoff Kellak]

Mia Monroe | Korso Rook | Elpsis Kerrigan | Tharil | Artemis Verd | Elise Ahana-Gwyneira


"Sir, we're approved for landing in the spaceport. Sending coordinates to your panel, now," one of Treoffs Officers spoke up near him, "they told us as outsiders, that if we cause any troub-" "Yeah, yeah," Treoff interrupted the officer, "they're Mandalorians, I think I know what happens if I step out of line," his voice became low, almost a growling whisper, "I'm lucky their letting me plant my boots on their planet in the first place." He adjusted his seating for a more serious position, reading out the coordinates and taking manual control of the ship to land. "Instruct the other ships to continue to their designated landing areas and await further orders. I'll get confirmation and permission to unload when I get it," Treoff finished. The officer nodded out of sight, hailing the other ships in their little convoy fleet.



After landing, Treoff stood up, but he was still shaky. He padded his hip where his Legion Combat Pistol was. Slugthrowers, they took more maintenence than a blaster and weren't quite cheap, but nothing really beats them in Atmospheric combat. He was shaky because he didn't know if it was best to present himself armed or unarmed. He knew they respected strength, but he wanted to show he could be a trusted outsider. He patted his hip a couple more times, as he seemed to stare off into space.

"Sir?" the Officer questioned. Treoff sighed and drew his pistol. He pulled the slide back, inspecting his pistol, checking both sides, before deciding to re-holster it, "deciding if I want to look smart or a fool." "I'm sorry?" the Officer asked, not quite understanding. "It's just a phrase. I'm about to walk into a lions den. Mandalorians - as far as I know - respect pride and strength. But I don't want to walk in there looking like I'm ready to challenge them. Going in armed or unarmed, either could look bad for me. I might look weak without a weapon, I might insult them walking in armed. Times like this I wish I trained with the blade."

It was a very tense situation for Treoff, but he went with his gut this time. He hoped it would make a good first impression. If anything, just not the worst possible outcome. He proceeded off of his ship, looking for someone nearby. Probably a spaceport guard, to lead him to someone in charge. Treoff continued to ask around, who he should speak to in order to request an audience with Ijaat Mereel hoping it wouldn't offend anyone. Maybe his constant questions would eventually get up the chain, and even as a nobody, someone outing himself looking for The King and asking so much, maybe someone will come find him, or he'll just get approved and lead somewhere. Hopefully not to any dark alleyways...

(I'd like to meet Ijaat soon. I am patient, if ya stick me in a waiting room, just give some good elevator music, will ya?)

 

[Artemis Verd]

​

In fairness, Artemis hadn't been expecting someone to waltz right up to her. At least not so easily, but then someone did, and Artemis who hadn't been two pints into the night looked over and gave the person a wink. "Yep," and then downed the next pint, now officially two pints in she looked the person over and exhaled, "right, names Artemis Verd, yes I'm related to Isley Verd he's my grandfather. No I don't know what happened between him, the clan and the rest of the Mandalorians, no I don't care if you consider me a dar'manda because you take it and shove right up your beskar." Then she offered a sarcastic grin while ordering another pint.

"Now that, that's out of the way, how can I help you?"

Maybe she didn't need to shoot off at the hip, but between Vandelhelm and here, it seemed every other Mandalorian had an opinion about her beloved gramps. All she knew him as was Grandpa, the guy who taught her to throw a tomahawk, how to shoot blaster and just maybe how to choke a m-fer out. He was and still is an amazing guy, sure he had a lot of kids and Artemis was certain she had lost count as to how many 'aunties' and 'uncles' let alone 'cousins' that she had. Still, she had become so accustomed by this point at how everyone had something to say about it. She had formulated an automated response, whether or not it was warranted here remained to be seen.

Elise Ahana-Gwyneira​

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Mandalore

To Arla's surprise, Keldabe looked and felt like the stories she had heard. Modern and rustic at the same time, populated by Mandalorians minding their own business. Oyu'baat looked as if it had always been where it was, though she knew that could not have really been true. Upon entering, she caught the last of Artemis's greeting. Emboldened, Arla decided to introduce herself.

"You karking tell them, sister!" She said in her halting Mando'a. She wanted to have switched to Basic for the rest, but managed to command the language well enough. "I'm Arla Rodarch, my people live in the deep south. I say cin vhetin, we've got rebuilding to do here."

She moved out of the doorway then, and walked toward a bartender to get a drink. Most of the drinks here were highly intoxicating. She chose a simple local beer, which had the virtues of being well made, and cold. When her drink arrived, Arla paid for it, then began to look to the rest of the patrons.

The old Arla would never have so boldly and unashamedly announced herself upon entering a place like this. But she'd been aruetii, Arla realized to herself. Before her year of personal hell, before Kad, before Clan Rodarch, and Manda'yaim. Not one of us, in the most complete sense of the mando'a word. That had changed. Now, these were her people, her distant kin. Oyu'baat was as much her place as it was any Vod. She was home for true.

Tags:
Mia Monroe Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Artemis Verd Valery Noble Ijaat Mereel Treoff Kellak Korso Rook Elpsis Kerrigan Tharil

 

[Elise Ahana-Gwyneira]

Elise got whiplash, hearing the harsh desert dialogue of Artemis Verd. She paused for a moment, staring, as a third Mandalorian waltzed in and introduced herself as well. Elise stood there, looked between the two. Then she looked at Artemis again.

Then she laughed.

It was laughter of amusement. But even more than that, it was laughter of relief. She laughed, holding her stomach as she chuckled for several moments, then slowed down.

"Well, this makes me feel a lot better!"

She chuckled a little more, wiped her tears away, then eagerly stood up. She offered a heart felt, proud Mandalorian salute. Head high, she spoke.

"I am Elise Vizsla, of Clan Vizsla. I am honored to meet the both of you. And indeed, Arla, we have a lot to do here. It's agonizing, seeing our home like this."

The constant influx of Mandalore's very Force Signature upon her weighted heavy and thick. An intoxicating fog to her heart and mind, Elise was constantly poisoned by the defiled and hideous state of Mandalore's lamentation. Wounded, violated, and victimized. It was having even physical effects on the girl. On her own home world, Elise was caressed by a tropical sun that tanned her healthy skin. On Mandalore, she wore her beskar'gam far more often in Mandalore's wastes. And here, she could be seen developing a sickly pale complexion. It was true, so much needed to be done to heal this wailing world. It was why she spent most of her waking time working on Keldabe's dirty, grueling construction.

Elise fell into her seat, frowning. She felt her sorrows ever haunting, as her eyes flickered to Artemis with eyes that bled of shared pain. The pain of treachery. The pain of being outcasts amongst fellow vode.

Elise closed her eyes and gulped heavy. Her tears were stayed and the lump in her throat was swallowed. With a sigh, Elise spoke in a sorrowful tone.

"I can't judge you, Artemis. You are not your family, something I should know very well. Ra Vizsla's mere mention fills me with disgust. And my grandfather is none other than War Master Kranak Vizsla. And I-I love him, but..."

She had to wrench her eyes shut, forcing herself not to cry again. Mandalore's influence was making her more volatile. It was a venom in her bone marrow. And here she was, once standing in a proud salute... and now sunk into her seat again.

Artemis Verd Arla Rodarch @alltheotherpeeps

 

[Mairéad Solus]

OYU'BAAT
​

Location: Kelbabe
Objective: Meet vod
Tags: Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Artemis Verd Arla Rodarch

Spoiler: Equipment:

Velmorite bladed lightsaber
Ladies Watch
Serenity bracelet
FDS-4F blaster pistol in lumbar holster
Empyrean Gland
The Family Finger
Marzanna
Body conforming personal shield device
Datapad

This planet was a dump, a wretched wasteland that so many of her kin had an ancestral obsession with. To each their own, she admired the dedication to trying to rebuild the place and the protectors hadn't done a bad job so far, funding was an issue, she knew, but they were working hard. To Mairéad Mandalore was an oppurtunity, she had already invested tens of millions of credits on construction and business projects here in order to aid her vod rebuild, and also ensure she had a business foothold here for the future. It was a long game investment, as we're nearly all legal ventures, but she helped because of kinship as well as an interest in money. The more illegal and more lucrative stuff could come later, right now she just needed a foothold.

She had just come to this cantina from her own construction project, a mostly skeletal structure that would eventually form office space for MS Holdings and Fiora with its ground floor hopefully housing a lavish public entertainment venue. A much deserved public space for a hard working people. She looked at her PA, a handsome young zygerrian man. "¿Puedes contactar a Ijaat Mereel e invitarlo a cenar o algo así? Me gustaría tener una charla personal con él." she said in zygerrian as the entered the bar. He nodded and started typing in his holopad. Mairéad gestured to the bar and the pair walked over with him finding a stool alone so she could mingle by herself, noone wanted the PA shadow all the time. She did want to meet the man who had decided to declare himself ruler of all mandalorians. It had given her a little chuckle, she didnt imagine it would spread wide, but he was the leader here and he had a following, so in his territory he would be treated accordingly. It had amused Ivory Stroud and Marcella Fiora When Mairéad sent them a memo declaring herself ruler of all criminals and that now they worked for her. The response was less than obedient. She smirked to herself.

Her back ached so she leaned back over the bar to stretch it as she surveyed the room. "You are going to have some serious making up to do." she mused lovingly to herself. Screw it... she picked up her Virgin Padme and walked across the bar towards Elise Ahana-Gwyneira , Artemis Verd and Arla Rodarch .

"Su'cuy vod" she said to the trio "Mairéad of House Solus, it is a pleasure to meet some distant cousins. I have no ancestors to be shameful of, but I think my father might be sketch as." she laughed and raised her glass in a minor toast to their respective healths.

 

[Darth Malum of House Marr]

Moridinae was suitably...

...Underwhelming.

Yet even as he had expected as such for the world, he could not help but find himself disappointed.

This once great titan on the galactic stage, reduced to such a state of ruin, once by the very same people who were currently attempting to rebuild it, the other time by one of the greatest Sith Lords that had ever lived.

All the while the majority of its people were far too busy waging a crusade against the Alliance, or deeply embittered against each other to be here, attempting to bring back their homeland to the prominence it once knew. Malum could not exactly judge them, watching the Moridinazid tear through the Alliance, the Sith's two most natural enemies in a death battle, was certainly entertaining in a perverse sense, while in general, such a conflict could only be good for them.

Moreover, even if he thought it was foolish on their part. He could not entirely fault their logic either if he was told that his former leader, who had failed to win a civil war against another claimant, and who had also manipulated their way into destroying his home planet, all the while the one who actually did destroy his home was claiming to be the new leader of his people, was inviting them all to return to the homeland.

Well.

Frankly, he might return, but not to rebuild.

Thankfully for both Mia Monroe and Ijaat Mereel , he was no vengeful Moridinazid desiring their chunk of flesh.

Oh, he was something much better.

A Sith.

He could not help the chuckle that left his lungs, confirming that his cloak and concealment were in place, as he continued to wander around the area. Musing and gazing about whatever curiosities caught his blue contacts, the lightsabres beneath his casual attire, rustling with each step, also replaced with those of the more blue persuasion. He had the slightest indication that somehow, for some reason, it would be better to be caught as a Jedi here, than a Sith.

Slightly.

Ever so slightly better.

He quickly decided this was not the world for Elise Ahana-Gwyneira , a Moridina- Mandalorian herself, but one so different from the many he had met in his life... well perhaps many, but enough to make a judgement, where books provided the rest of what he needed to know. Darkness pervaded this place, it was no wonder, so much duch had taken place here, not even from the two great calamities, but all the death and destruction this place had witnessed over the last few millennia. She would not like it here... this husk of a world, where one was barely able to breath without feeling ichor, it was no wonder her home was Archais... such a beautiful rose could not grow in this place.

And she already had thorns, they did not need to be sharpened here.

Such it was that he was actively avoiding her, it would do neither of them any good to accidentally meet here, especially after what happened aboard the Dreadnought.

Even if he so dearly wished to see her.

Only one person knew he was here at all, for though he likely could have managed to make it to Moridinae undetected, could have arrived with several agents, scattering them through the wind, and allowing them to take root here.

He had decided to be a nice houseguest, reporting his arrival to the former Mand'alore, staying out of the way of all those he noticed, even with a gift in hand. Who knew, perhaps today would be the day that he would... formally, meet this new Mand'alore, Bogan knew it would likely be a better first impression than the one on the Dreadnought.

So as he awaited, he listened.

He doubted there would be much of interest to learn, but who knew, would not be the first time that he sent himself halfway across the galaxy due hearsay and evesdropping.

Artemis Verd Valery Noble Korso Rook Treoff Kellak Elpsis Kerrigan Tharil Arla Rodarch Mairéad Solus

 

[Artemis Verd]

Artemis hadn’t done more than say her peace when someone shouted out, ‘kark’em tell’em.’ With the arch of her brow she hadn’t realized that she had made such an impression. The young woman introduced herself as someone from Clan Rodarch, Artemis didn’t know the histories of each clan so she gave the woman who said she was Arla, a polite nod of her head.

The other one started laughing and Artemis was getting that uneasy feeling. It wasn’t until Elise, as she introduced herself, explained that she was Clan Viszla. Now, while Artemis wasn’t as mentioned, familiar with the histories of each clan. Viszla was something of a name people had at least heard of. She looked over at her pint and asked the bartender to refill it and then knocked it back.

She slid the tankard toward the bartender and offered up whatever currency was accepted out there. She set the payment there on the counter and looked over toward Arla and then back at Elise who spoke, stating that they were not, in fact, their families. A bit of a relief, if Artemis was completely honest. Oh and then there were... were those tears in Viszla’s eyes? Right. Artemis took in a deep breath, exhaled and told Elise plainly, “we’re not our families, that much is true.” Acknowledging at least from her perspective that Elise spoke true words. “There’s a lot to be done here, but with the right technology, and enough grease. We ought to be able to make it habitable.”

Habitable was going to be a good place to start from. “Arla, you mentioned your clan was from the south, anything specific?” Sure, lots of planets had a south, but it helped to be a little more direct. “Your clan been here the whole time?” She curiously asked just as a third person entered their chat.

Clan Solus. Another clan, another set of histories that Artemis wasn’t familiar with. Not clan, House, Artemis pondered that for a moment. Anyone claiming to be from a House was definitely either some Core Worlder or one of those Outer Rim folk who like to pretend at being important. They're usually a lot more of the latter than the former, sometimes it was both. “Well met, Mairead, was it?” Artemis gave the person a small nod of acknowledgment.

“Now that we’re all rather acquainted, I think it’s a good a time as any to maybe... Headout, start a fire, roast some meat that at least looks like it can be consumed and come up with a few plans on rebuilding.” Suggested Artemis as she rose from the bar stool and onto her feet, securing the helmet over her head.

Arla Rodarch | Elise Ahana-Gwyneira | Mairéad Solus ​

 

[Arla Rodarch]

Vizsla, Verd, Solus, and Rodarch. Four disparate families, all bound by the bond of Mandalore. They were all here by choice, which made Arla's estimation of the other three women go up. The questions about exactly where Clan Rodarch lived put Arla on guard immediately, as was fairly natural for those of her Aliit. Survival meant not advertising to potential enemies where your home was.

Clan Rodarch weren't unfriendly or ungracious hosts, they just liked their security and their secrecy, even from their vode. They would however, pose no threat to other Mandalorians. Aruetiise, on the other hand, weren't likely to leave Rodarch clan lands alive with the knowledge of the location in their heads.

Still, this was Oyu'baat, and these were family, after a fashion.

Arla brought out a handheld holoprojector which zapped a small hologram of Mandalore into existence above the palm she held it in. The planet was easily recognizable with the entire northern hemisphere being crosshatched out in grey. Arla highlighted Keldabe, where they were, and then rotated the display to show the location of home, far to the south. The area was mostly desert and bare rock, with a lot of broken ground. Fairly unremarkable and a lot like a lot else of Manda'yaim.

"Yaim is about here." Arla highlighted a thin ridge valley snaking between two high peaks. It was about two thirds of the way from the equator to the south pole, surrounded by vast swathes of dry sandy desert broken by upthrusts of rock, natural and cataclysm-wrought. "Some of our people have been here through two cataclysms." She smiled grimly, a point of pride for her clan to stand alongside their thousands of years of existence dating back beyond the Old Republic.

Anyone traveling there would see little vegetation anywhere around until they got into the canyon that led to the valley. There, they would find what amounted to an oasis in the surrounding dry desert hills, with sparse trees and bushes surviving in the shadowed areas beneath the sheer cliffs. Deeper into the valley there were habitations carved into the rock, and tent-like structures. This was the home of Clan Rodarch, well hidden from outside view.

Far below stretched the city of the Clan, with far thicker and healthier vegetation in the subsurface levels. Even deep below the city in the caves and caverns, there was life. Few outsiders saw anything beyond the surface and the vode of Clan Rodarch who dwelt there.

Once they'd had a good look, Arla put the holodevice away. She liked the sound of Artemis's suggestion. And she knew two places not far off that she'd like to show her fellow vode. Panther's Arsenal and the Hospice Fort stood out, being much closer at hand, here in Keldabe than the distant home of her Clan.

"Let's head out, then." She was keen to get on with making a contribution to her people as a whole. Few enough opportunities to do so presented themselves, and Arla wanted to serve her people more than almost anything else.

Artemis Verd Elise Ahana-Gwyneira Mairéad Solus