Private In Pursuit of Longevity

[Vren Rook]

VETERAN
TOR VALUM | KESTRI
TAG: Carduul Akahl

SOUL OF A MAN​

One step at a time, the Covenant was taking shape.

Vren had anticipated that things would start off rocky as everyone started working together instead of being splintered. They all came together from different lives after all. What had been clear to the veteran was that many respected the young man known as Carduul - once titled and still considered as Mand'alor to some. Yet, it seemed that he no longer wanted to hold that pressure - that banner.

For that reason above all is why Vren spoke with Romul Saxon and Zavar Kelborn to offer the young warrior a seat.

It had taken some discussion - especially Romul was wary, sharing Vren's own aversion to bending the knee to a banner again. But in the end they had all come to the conclusion to unite the Clans and warriors, his insights would be crucial.

While the Fleet was home for a spell, the Echo-Speaker decided to seek out the ex-Mand'alor to hear his thoughts on the matter. So he and Nag made their way down the main street toward the enlarged Barracks to be able to house the newcomers.
://: You really think he can help? He couldn't keep his people united after all - the Empire just waltzed in on the ashes. ://: she remarked as her bulk plodded behind him.
"I think he can. Everyone from his banner that answered the call seemed to still respect. It ain't lost on me that they decided to support the endeavour because he did. To have this be a true Covenant, everyone needs a voice to speak for them within the Rekav'dral. He knows his people better than we do." he told her.
The basilisk let out a rumble. ://: Don't you think that will give them a chance to turn on us? We're not exactly in a position to have another war right now. ://:
"There's no 'us and them' any more, Girl. We are all survivors seeking to rebuild. Clearly it didn't work being splintered, so we need to at least try unification to face the Galaxy." Vren answered, glancing back at her.
://: You know I'll flatten anyone that tries to go after you, regardless who they are. ://: she grumbled.
"Girl, I order you not to do something unless I truly need it, allright?"
://: Fine. ://:

They stopped before the Barracks and Vren turned to face her.
"Please don't shoot or step on anyone. We do need to unite." he told her.
She collapsed her chassis with a huff. ://: Make sure no one gives me reason to. ://:
He chuckled at her bad mood before turning to step into the Barracks.

"Alor Rook, to what do we owe the pleasure?" asked one of the warriors that was incidentally on his way out.
"Just Vren is fine to adress me with, Friend. Now tell me, where can I find old Mand'alor Akahl?" Vren asked.
"Oh he just walked out of the mess - you can probably still find him in the next hallway." he said.
"Thank you." the veteran answered as he started down the hallway to find his query.

Hopefully the lad had enough wisdom to see the benefit of taking a seat.

 

[Carduul Akahl]

Tor Valum, Kestri
Tags: Vren Rook​

---

What did it mean to be a leader?

His ilk believed so ardently in that sole individual, one who would uphold all their ideals to perfection. Who would brave any obstacle to see their people to prosperity. Who would sacrifice all that they were for the sake of that goal. Through effort, he was chosen because the Crusade believed no one else was more suitable. He was younger than many of those who came before him, that much was certain—but his time spent upon Dxun and the brief war that followed had given him the experience and mindset that others considered up to standard.

He had not cast away the title wholly, for there were still people who believed in him as deserving of it. Yet, neither had he defended it as one of his beliefs should. Instead, he had reigned in what remained of his forces and told them to sequester themselves just as before. To wait for the right moment once again, if it ever came, and simply allow the next movement to take the reigns as they so wished. In his own eyes, that would have once been considered the cowardly decision to make. Yet somehow, despite it all, his kin had come out of the darkest corners of the galaxy just to support him time and again.

The myriad of causes and effects had conglomerated and blurred the lines of what a good leader should do, and thus only his own judgement was left to counsel upon.

As steps made their way from the mess hall, he veered into a hallway with a window that allowed light to stream in. Beyond it lie only part of the city of Tor Valum, though his gaze was captivated by it all the same. The chill of frost and snow was far, far different to the jungle environment of Dxun, suffice to say—let alone atop such a high peak. Still, with all that the City had, it was difficult not to feel some sense of familiarity with what his distant family had built here.

Every day spent on Kestri was one still spent learning of it, for Carduul Akahl. In the time since arriving, there was not really a lot of time taken for socialization, save for the important conversations that he deemed necessary. Only those who sought him out, be they those who once served under him or a scathing challenger, was granted the time to talk amidst his explorations.

The hustle and bustle from the influx of warriors was noticeable. While many armors varied and portrayed their diverging paths, there was now an influx of a new appearance—standardized armor of the Neo-Crusaders, more befitting uniforms than the individuality many Mandalorians prized. The very same figure Rook spoke to bore such an appearance, though acted little different from any of their other kin. It was no secret many were only present due to Carduul’s intervention, though others did come of their own volition.

Truthfully, it was the very least the once-Rallymaster could do, in hopes he might at least see some of the hopes of his people realized.

The tell-tale sound of steps further down the hallway had signaled the arrival of another, and for now he did not wish to forsake this view. He had no knowledge that there was anyone following him, and thus he could only assume it was another passer-by. Still, his gaze cast over his shoulder to peer, only to recognize the unmistakable face of the older Karjr rounding the corner. “Vren Rook.” He greeted in passing, his body leaning somewhat upon the ever-present weapon of beskar at his side. “Do you also take to wandering this vast place, on your off time? I would have thought you’ve seen it all, by this point.” It didn’t seem like he was expecting to see him here, by the words. Still, there was a lighter touch to his tone that betrayed a sense of subtle contentment, or ease, from behind the mask.