Public Homecoming || [ Attn: Mandalorian Union ]

[Leea Pandac]

Leea started from her silence. The Mirialan pilot had taken to meditation, per the advice of a friend and teacher. In her room aboard Talohn's ship, the walls had been painstakingly rearranged. Spending a great deal of time and effort, Leea had painted and retextured the walls to appear more like a rock outcroppings of her homeworld, Makeb. She had been torn about her desire to return to the world for quite some time now. Until she had come under the employ of the Cathar, Pandac had been unable to book passage. Now having the opportunity, she feared returning without proof of accomplishment and success to bring to her parents.

Running her hand over a long groove in the ersatz stone, she was reminded of them, and what no longer was. Don't even know if they're alive... It's been quite some time. But it was not memories of home that brought Leea from her stupor. Rather it was a feeling, a sense of disruption. Though still young, both biologically and in her Force training, Leea wondered, Is this guidance from the Force? Of the many things in her life she was adjusting to, transitioning to a less structured lifestyle; flying starships for a living; being able to travel around the galaxy on a whim; and so many others, it was the discovery of her connection with the mystical powers that most disturbed and perplexed her. Nebulous and yet personal, its properties were immaterial and about as different from anything she could have known, and yet it seemed almost intuitive and familiar.

The Mirialan arose and stepped from her room and, only a short while later, left Talohn's ship behind as well. Though at first uncertain where to go, it took only a few minutes of wandering before the sounds of merriment and scent of Talohn's particular curry drew Leea to gathering. The sight before her was almost entirely alien. It seemed a celebration of sorts, but the exact purpose was beyond her and it seemed an almost familial affair. Leea stood for a moment in the entryway, debating with herself whether to enter into the uncertainty of this group or retreat to the certainty of solitude. the moment passed and she stepped forward into the room, but stayed to the outskirts, feeling out of place in this picture. Having missed much, she was uncertain and yet listened to try and fill in the blanks, conversations only half concluded in basic were almost more distracting than they were illuminating. If I could just get someone who could explain all of this, might be more comfortable. Leea wore a dubious expression, bordering on appearing utterly lost.

Talohn Atar Shuklaar Kyrdol Darth Metus Stardust Solus Skirae Redd Damsy Callat Shalita Verd Adenn Kyramud Kreslin Westwind Haastal Haran Kragr Krayt Eliz Krayt Zephyr Krayt

 

[Srina Talon]

M A N D A L O R E
Tag: Talohn Atar Shuklaar Kyrdol Darth Metus Stardust Solus Skirae Redd Damsy Callat Shalita Verd Adenn Kyramud Kreslin Westwind Haastal Haran Kragr Krayt Eliz Krayt Zephyr Krayt Leea Pandac
_________________________________________________________
​

Empty silver orbs gazed emotionlessly into an endless starlit void. She could almost hear the distant hum the shining lights emitted that signaled life leaping into existence in the deepest reaches of space. It had been quite some time since she had last stepped foot upon the Halcyon Storm. She could hear the others speaking through a secure Confederate channel. Her thoughts were distant. Eyes, distant.

The almost crystalline shade shifted to a mottled gray, becoming hollow, while the ghosts of her dead brethren danced in the forefront of her mind. She remembered the rampage that had all but consumed Eshan City in the wake of megalomaniacal men that someone had somehow seen fit to bestow weapons of mass destruction. The same craven beast that had thrown baradium bombs at her feet had been all but heralded as a hero. He was praised. Placed on a pedestal for the orbital bombardment of not only her own people, but her sable-skinned cousins, where friend and foe became interchangeable words of callous deceit. It was about bloodshed. A show of power.

Nothing more, nothing less.

For so long; the memories had been buried. The pain of the brutal death of her eldest sibling had been locked away. Hidden within the cold, cruel confines, of an ever-darkening heart.

As Darth Metus and his family traveled to the surface of a backwater world full of rot and despair, she could feel the temperature on the bridge begin to cool. Her anger did not bring fire. It brought ice. The droids would never speak of the change, though, the organic elements paused when each breath came in a puff of white. When their teeth chattered.

“Master, is this trip wise?”

The chuckle she received in response did not reassure her. He knew it would not. Her eyes closed for a moment and her head tilted to the side, almost, as if she were listening to something. When she stopped it seemed that she had come to a decision. She wore three rings. All held some sort of significance or ability. She turned a golden object over, circling it round, and around her ring finger.

“Adron is correct.”, she inferred, quietly, before pulling away from the command throne. Srina did not comment as she normally would have about the language utilized and instead began to issue orders to the crew. The massive Super Star Destroyer required a complement of smaller ships capable of operating independently. A design flaw, but it was still more than capable of providing a protective shell for the passengers within. The two other Exarchs were on the other side of the galaxy. “The last time you set foot on this planet your people tried to arrest you.”

If they died in this cesspool of Sith Empire desecration—The Confederacy, as a whole, would live on. Nothing stirred a war machine faster than the passing of its leader. They would break, mourn, and rise stronger than they were before. Furious and filled to the brim with complex notions of revenge and heroism. It would be bloody.

Mandalore was rather neatly sandwiched betwixt three major powers. Could it withstand a fourth getting involved? A fourth, pulling, and tearing at its moorings the way a hurricane lifted homes from the foundation and threw them into oblivion?

Srina could not answer that, but she was also willing to take that bet. If they retained any farce of intellect their weapons would remain inert and waspish tongues would stay trapped behind forked teeth. The Dread Queen did not suffer fools.

“. . . I am inbound . . .” ​

Her words to Darth Metus would echo in a silvery chain of unspoken intent. She would not yet take endless legions of war droids with her. This was not a planetary invasion. No, it was a mere trip home. That did mean that she would leave her Master to walk alone.

Often, her presence was all he required.

This would be no different.