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Humility

V I C E L O R D
Writer
During his previous visit to the world known as Mandalore, the wayward son of the warrior race had been given a task by his liege. In order to begin the absolution of his status as Dar'manda, he must bring to the feet of the Manda'lor the head of a Sith. With the fall of the Sith Empire, such hunting was not beyond the reach of the Mandalorian known as Isley Verd, and in his recent operations he made absolutely certain to claim the severed visages of those dark siders he slew. Call him overeager; but Isley got the job done. Now that he had gathered a "sufficient" sum of kills under his belt, he made his way to the residence of the Manda'lor, bearing in his arms a rather sizeable box. Upon being admitted into the throne room, the beskar-clad warrior laid it upon the ground and opened it, revealing the gruesome sight within.

Five heads, severed via lightsaber, stared up at the throne of the Manda'lor. Namely those of @[member="Jacques Cavill"] and four others who fell to Isley during recent missions to assist the newest worlds of the CIS enter the fold. If one fallen Sith would grant him consideration, how much would five earn him? Then, in an act of supreme humility, the Mandalorian lowered himself to a single knee, with a fist upon the earth. His head inclined and he spoke in a solemn tone. The words which escaped his lips were uttered in perfect Mando'a, a testament to who he was...

"Lord Manda'lor, I have done as you bid. Will you consider my plea to return to our people?"

@[member="Gilamar Skirata"].
 

Gilamar Skirata

Skirataridge Farms Remembers
Writer
The formality, it hurt. He flinched slightly when the Mandalorian took a knee. Clad in his own black beskar'gam, he wore it more for protection than ceremony in the wake of this obviously powerful Force user. Walking over he whistled, peering into the box. <You do all this?> he asked, spinning his wrist around the box. Impressive as it may have been, there seemed to be something dark and sinister about the Force sensitive Mandalorian. For now, he would use him, but he would keep all of his eyes and ears open for anything he did suspicious...
@[member="Darth Metus"]
 
V I C E L O R D
Writer
Looking up, the beskar-clad Mandalorian looked to his superior and responded in the affirmative. "Yes, Lord Manda'lor. All by my hand." The purpose of prostrating himself before the leader of the Mandalorian people was simple: to demonstrate humility and a desire to serve. There was no doubt that Isley possessed power, born of the Force and experience; but that power was willingly on bended knee to the leader of Mandalore. Isley would serve his people, as was his duty as a son of Manda'yaim. "Does this meet your standards, Manda'lor?" he inquired, uncertain if his display was too little.

@[member="Gilamar Skirata"].
 

Gilamar Skirata

Skirataridge Farms Remembers
Writer
Sucking his teeth, he turned on his heel and walked a few steps back towards his desk. <Mand'alor, Shmand'alor...Call me Gilamar, that title is for history books and diplomats. We all know what I am, but a man is more than his armor, and that goes for a man's title as well.> It wasn't that he disregarded the importance of his own title, it was, actually the opposite. But people...Seemed to only respect him because of the title, and that was not how it was supposed to be. People respected the Mandalorian and gave him the title Manda'lor. With a sigh, he turned to face the younger Mandalorian again. <Yes, that's fine. Just...toss 'em before they start to stink. You have a report for me?>
 
V I C E L O R D
Writer
The words of his superior brought the beginnings of a smile to the Mandalorian's face. He then stood, folding his hands behind his back before taking a step closer to Gilamar's desk. "Very well, Gilamar." he said, taking a moment to close the top of the box with but a wave of his hand. Through the Force, the lid closed and he turned his attention back upon his superior. "What I have found out thus far is that which is to be expected. Many of those who once rallied to the banner of the Sith Empire had fled west, taking up refuge at the fringe of the Galaxy. Others await in the shadows, biding their time and slowly beginning the process of reconstruction. The Sith, as a nation, may be gone, but the Sith as a people...as an ideal...they are very much at large. As history has dictated, Dromund Kaas and Ziost are priority targets for a Sith resurgence; and as such a stronger, military presence upon those worlds would be a wrench in any attempts to recapture their 'sacred grounds'." Isley paused for a moment and then asked the question that had been tugging at the edge of his mind.

"Gilamar, what of my status as Dar'manda? Have you reached a decision? There is, of course, no rush if you have not...Though I'm sure you understand my eagerness to return home again."

@[member="Gilamar Skirata"].
 

Gilamar Skirata

Skirataridge Farms Remembers
Writer
<Hmmm> the old man grunted as he lifted a bottle of Ne'tra Gal from under his desk and took two small glasses from the cupboard behind him. With a heavy sigh he listened to the Mandalorian infiltrator, pouring the two glasses of the sweet, black ale. <Then they are mobilizing to some degree...> Removing his helmet and clipping it to his belt, he rubbed the rough, grey facial hair that grew from his face. <They are tough, but no longer a thorn in our side...> He had dodged the question Verd had posed, or maybe he had just not heard, listening intently and thinking on the information he had just been giving, pacing the room. Looking back up to Isley, his eyebrows rose. <Oh, yes yes of course. Though your place in the Manda is not mine to give. It is earned and regained and held by following the Resol'nare, which you have been doing, even in your absence.>

Gilamar was old, and during the Gulag plague the old ways and old religions took root again in his generation. Gilamar was religious, and while not overly so, he did believe in the Manda as an afterlife for all whom followed the Resol'nare. <What of the Republic, the CIS is in bed with them right? Do you have any news of their own movements? Besides their land grabbing antics in old Sith Space?>
@[member="Darth Metus"]
 
V I C E L O R D
Writer
Reaching up, the Mandalorian removed his helmet and held it under the crook of his arm, listening to the words of the Manda'lor intently. "They are no longer a thorn in our side," he began in perfect Mando'a, "but they will come back seeking their homeworld. And when they come, we will be ready for them." When Gilamar remarked about his Dar'manda status, a wave of relief washed over him. He could not help but smile at this news; for he truly believed that in the eyes of the Manda, his soul was sound. Never once did he raise a hand against the Mandalorian people in his absence; and he even crossed the entire Galaxy in order to participate in the Mandalorian offensive against Mon Calamari under the reign of Mia Monroe. He upheld the Resol'nare to the letter, to say the very least. Then, when the aging man made his inquiry, Isley responded with confidence.

"The Republic and the Confederacy have a standing friendship, aye." he began, following the Manda'lor with his eyes whilst the man paced. "Aside from attempting to expand their borders, the intel I have on the Republic is minimal at best. Though they, alongside our people, struck hard at the Sith until the Empire fell, they hit a brick wall composed of Fringeman at O'reen. A recent merger or something between the Atrisians and the Fringe Confederation bolstered their forces enough to stop the Republic advance; and they have a shaky peace at the moment."

"The Confederacy is in a state of preparation, one that I am driving hard. Between you and I...there now exist ten thousands sons of Manda'yaim within the Confederacy, born on Kamino. I commissioned their creation and taught them the ways of our people; and now that I am able to come home, I shall bring them here to meet you someday soon. That withstanding, the CIS has been concerned with preparing for whatever poodoo storm comes knocking at their door. They are uncertain if another betrayal lies in the shadows in terms of alliances, so their days and nights are spent building. That aside, the reputation it has gained regarding Sith does not hold as much weight as one would believe. While there are a few who hearken to the Dark Side within the Templars, the vast majority are neutral or former Jedi. Furthermore, their recent expansion has consisted mainly of combating the remnants of the Sith Empire."

With that said, Isley held his peace and continued to follow the pacing of Gilamar as he moved about the office.

@[member="Gilamar Skirata"].
 

Gilamar Skirata

Skirataridge Farms Remembers
Writer
Kamino
The word caused him to flinch. It was because of that dreadful place that their population had taken a dive centuries ago at the hands of a vengeful Sith Lord, whose name was long forgotten. But hundreds more sons of Mandalore? Clones, of course...But of who? Taking a glass from his desk he nursed the drink for a moment. <Clones...of who?> He knew that ages ago, a Skirata had taken up a similar role for the Republic, training clones of some Mandalorian...Fett he believed his name was. Shaking his head, he set the glass down again. <No, no, never mind. I hope they are welcomed here warmly.> Harsh as it may be, Gilamar had no interest in the fears of the CIS, though knowing these things could prove useful at some point in time. <Thank you Isley.> Clapping a hand on his shoulder, the old man gave him a grin. <You've done us proud. I'll see you again soon.>
@[member="Darth Metus"]
 
V I C E L O R D
Writer
"You're too kind, Gilamar." he said, regarding the aging man with a nod of respect. From there, he replaced his helmet upon his head and turned on his heel, stopping in order to collect the box of severed, Sith heads. Once the box was in hand, he turned his attention upon the Manda'lor once more and said. "I'll continue to keep you up to date on everything as much as I can, but first, I have to go see a drunk." The man Isley was referring to was his own father, but he was not entirely certain if Gilamar knew that much. "Stay well, Gilamar. I'll see you soon." And with that said, the Mandalorian strode proudly forth to return to his people.

@[member="Gilamar Skirata"].
 
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