Public In The Shadow of Persephone

[Zandra Ruus]

Persephone Station, deep space near Kestri
8AM local standard time
Current dock of the Mythos Fleet

Fuel, Food, Ammunition, all thing that the grand Mythos Fleet could use more of. It was their reason for calling such an out of the way station home, the fleet could gather here without worrying about the various enemies of the Iron Covenant. It was a fleet full of advanced Mandalorian warships, one that scoured the stars for conquest and treasures, as well as the spoils of older wars. Zandra Russ was one of the Alor of this fleet, one who commanded a force of Iron Howl Marines, commandos who specialized in taking over enemy ships. Their Beskar was especially made to be capable of space-walks, and gave them and advantage in boarding actions.

This was Zandra's charge, to lead the Iron Howl in battle. She did this with pride, even as her body felt tired from the most recent training operation. Each day she felt closer to realizing her dreams, to become a true Mandalorian, whatever it was that that meant. In the more recent times, everyone seemed to have a different definition of Mandalorian culture. The Creed was fractured, and she was standing in the center of the path, unsure of which direction she might go. Who was right, who was the true heir to Mandalorian culture? She didn't know, but that was for the future to decide. For now, she had a duty to The Covenant, to lead her Vod into glory.

As she walked through docking tunnel, the airlocks hissed, a rush of sanitized air filling the room. Before she could even find a place to sit, she was assailed by one of the many aides that she had to deal with. He was an elder Mandalorian, his time in combat having long since come to an end, but his council was nonetheless wise. He addressed the younger woman with a nod, before handing her a datapad.

"You'll find updated roster here Alor, we've brought a few new members into the fold. They will be assigned to the marines under your command. Treat them well."

Zandra listened to him, scrolling the datapad to view the new members of her crew. They were fine soldiers, whether or not they'd be truly good enough to join Iron Howl, that was to be seen. Zandra, despite her age, was a difficult one to impress. Though she wasn't against the idea of having new hands to work with, The Iron Covenant could never say no to new fighters.

"I'll look into their records and organize a tryout to weed out any of those who aren't up to snuff," Zandra said, looking out a nearby window. It seemed other ships were coming to dock with Persephone Station, some had Mando'a script etched onto their hulls it looked like. It would be nice to meet with other Mandos, that could be relaxing at the very least.

Whenever it came to diplomacy, Zandra felt a bit jaded. Matching wits was for diplomats and The Elders of The Covenant, not one of their Alor. If she did meet with other Mando warriors, it'd be hard to swap stories with outsiders, though, perhaps she could make nice with them. That would no doubt help The Covenant. What about her? Where would she fit into all of this?

Armel

 

[Armel]

Kestri, Wild Space
​

The ship jolted as the blue swirl of hyperspace disappeared and it re-entered real space. On the elevated bridge Armel watched as the cold black of space came into view. Except this time it was accompanied by something he hadn't seen in a long time, great lumbering warships that drifted in the vacuum. It reminded him of the glory days of the crusade, when Mandalorian ships threatened to blot out the stars. But this was no Crusade fleet, it belonged to something new which had roots in kin far older than the Neo-Crusaders he knew.

"So this is the Covenant." a voice spoke from behind.

Armel turned to see another warrior, a Rattataki he knew as Yel'ana. After he had met a comrade while stranded on Wistril he had made it a mission to seek out other warriors from the Neo-Crusade, the Rattataki being one of the first he had found.

"Aye." He said as his hands reached out to the ship controls. He could sense a tinge of distrust in her words. "We're here on an invite of another veteran of the Crusade." he said to try ease her worries. She was like many others he knew, only trusting of the warriors who took her in.

As the freighter entered an oversized hanger bay Armel left the controls and down into the holding bay where he was met with three others clad in crusader armour milling about. He turned to Yel'ana.

"See if you can get the ship fuelled and give her a once over. Who knows what the previous owner did with her." he said before striding down the ramp.

The hanger was a sea of activity, dozens of Mandalorians were around. It was both a familiar sight and one that was completely alien, he could understand their language, recognized their mannerisms but for the longest time every other Mandalorian he knew wore armour like his. In this sea of individuality he felt his uniform stood out the most.

He continued out the hanger and spotted Zandra. As he walked over his mechanical arm whirred and his wrist spun in place letting out a click, making his presence known.

"Never thought I'd see you glued to a datapad vod." He decided to forgo a salute and instead extended out his hand.

Zandra Ruus ​