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Private Iron Branch



IRON BRANCH

Blood, Ice, and Steel - Chapter 1

EQUIPMENTS: In Bio
OBJECTIVE: Court Clan Fett
TAG: Careena Fett Careena Fett

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HOYLIN

The transition from the thin, biting air of Kestri to the heavy, pine-scented atmosphere of Hoylin was enough to make anyone pause. As the ramp of the Kelborn shuttle lowered, the humidity of the forest floor met the cold, sterile interior of the ship, creating a faint mist that swirled around Zavar Kelborn’s boots.

He stepped out onto the Fett waystation, his Beskar armor clinking softly. He wasn't followed by a platoon, just a small retinue: two veterans of the Legendscar Trial and a master smith who carried a modest, leather-bound chest.

The former Enclave Si’kayha stopped at the edge of the clearing, his hands resting naturally on his belt, away from his weapons. He took a moment to appreciate the efficiency of the Fett settlement, the way the scouts moved with a purpose that didn't require shouted orders.

When Zavar spotted the waystation’s sentries, he inclined his head; a gesture of respect from one warrior to another, but with the subtle weight of an Alor.

"I've spent two winters on Kestri learning that the forge is only as strong as the wood that feeds it," he said, his voice calm, carrying easily through the mountain air. "I am Zavar of Clan Kelborn. I heard the Fetts of Hoylin had carved something enduring out of these woods."

He waited then, a patient figure in dark armor, content to stand in the shade of the Fett's forest until the master of the waystation decided to greet her guest.​

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C a r e e n a .F e t t
| Location | The Morut, Hoylin
Unseen eyes had been on Zavar Kelborn Zavar Kelborn ever since their ship had entered the outpost's sensor range, and followed the moment they made landfall. The back of the lead Mandalorian's head was already in the sights of an ever-vigilant and watchful eye.
<"You would be correct.">
A voice was heard above the Alor of Clan Kelborn amongst the branches of the tree that offered him shade. Making their presence known, the cloak that concealed the owner of the voice faded away, revealing the gray armored Mandalorian it belonged to. Careena Fett, matriarch and the Alor of Clan Fett, rifle in a resting position in her arms as she dropped down. She was never one for sitting idly around, always preferring to keep a watchful eye for any potential hostiles before they had a chance to reach the Morut.
Her posture straightened as her scarred helmet looked the Kelborn up and down. Her vocoded voice continued as she spoke in their shared language, <"Careena Fett. Alor.">, the matriarch said as she kept her introduction brutally short.
Her duty was to protect her own people and those who sought refuge under her care above all else, a sentiment she made known as she remained between Zavar and the Morut. Her finger was lax on the trigger of her rifle, but on it nonetheless. She could never be too careful with visitors from outside her own clan, even those she trusted or considered allies.
<"Kestri huh? I didn't expect to see the Enclave come out all this way, so far from home. Or perhaps you come on behalf of the pretender and his so-called Empire?">
The latter statement came off as an insult were it to be true, as Careena Fett did not recognize Aether Verd's claim to the title of Mand'alor, nor did she care for any of his emissaries or entertain hosting them.
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IRON BRANCH

Blood, Ice, and Steel - Chapter 1

EQUIPMENTS: In Bio
OBJECTIVE: Court Clan Fett
TAG: Careena Fett Careena Fett

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HOYLIN

Zavar didn't flinch as the matriarch dropped from the canopy. In his years as a Si’kayha, he had learned to listen for the subtle displacement of air and the weight of a gaze. If anything, the sight of her rifle and the directness of her drop earned a flicker of genuine approval behind his dark visor.

He remained still, his posture relaxed despite her finger resting on the trigger. A warrior who didn't respect a perimeter wasn't a warrior worth knowing.

"The pretender?" the Alor muttered, his Mando'a smooth and resonant. "If I were an emissary for Clan Verd or their Empire, I would have arrived with a parade of vanity and a list of demands I couldn't back up. Clan Kelborn does not bow to any Mand'alor."

He shifted his weight slightly, not reaching for a weapon, but grounding himself. The mention of "home" and "the Enclave" clearly struck a chord of somber pride.

"As for being 'far from home,' the Enclave has always been where its people stand. My father, the Alor before me, taught me that during the Crusade." He paused, giving the weight of that conflict a moment of silence. "He and I bled into the mud and the steel against the Galactic Alliance. We fought to keep our way of life from being extinguished by those who thought they could 'civilize' us. I didn't watch my father fall in Ryloth just to hand our legacy over to a Verd who thinks a fancy cape makes him a leader."

Zavar looked past Careena for a moment, toward the sturdy walls of the Morut. He spoke now with the quiet intensity of a man who saw a future others hadn't yet realized.

"The Crusade taught me something else, too," he added, his voice dropping to a more intimate frequency. "Static walls and hidden outposts are noble, but they are targets. The Sith found us. The Empire will try to find us. I am here because I believe the spirit of the Mythosaur wasn't meant to be caged in a single mountain range or a lone snowy moon."

He looked back at Careena, his helmet tilting toward the sky.

"I am looking for those who understand that for Mandalore to truly endure, we must become like the great beasts of old; a presence that moves, a hearth that roams the stars, never settling long enough for our enemies to close the net. Kestri is a foundation, but I am here to see if the Fetts of Hoylin are interested in building something that can outrun the coming storm."​

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C a r e e n a .F e t t
| Location | The Morut, Hoylin
Careena's trigger relaxed as the Kelborn declared he wasn't coming on behalf of Verd. While she did not sympathize with the statement that they bowed to no Mand'alor, it was at least better than claiming fealty to a false one. She hoped for a Mand'alor that all could respect, at least one within her lifetime. She gave Zavar the benefit of the doubt as she moved to lock her rifle to her back, stowing it away.
<"I remember your father. He answered my call, as did many others when we began the Crusades. Meros was a good man and an honorable warrior. Our people lost a great Alor with his passing... I will not forget his sacrifice during the Crusades."> She rested one hand on her belt and extended her other arm out, a gesture made out of respect to the younger Alor. Whether he accepted it or not, she continued <"I trust that Clan Kelborn is in good and capable hands.">
<"Our people endure so long as they continue to believe and carry our legacies with them, just as your father's legacy endures under you."> She wasn't one for the more mystical and idealistic interpretations of their ways; that was more within the realm of Carduul Akahl Carduul Akahl . What she did know was that when her people needed aid, she would be there for those worthy enough to be called Mandalorians.
<"This..."> She gestured to the Morut behind her, <"Isn't what the crusades I called for was meant to amount to. It was a chance to unite our brothers and sisters in arms under a common cause; a shared purpose. A chance to redeem those who had lost their honor and the lost to find their way.">
<"Make no mistake. You may call this place a target, but that is why we sharpen ourselves. If our enemies come, we will fight tooth and claw as we always have. They will be reminded how a true Mandalorian fights, not the cowards who hide behind politics and false promises of peace."> Her voice may have been gentle, but the tone in which she spoke carried the weight of her conviction behind it. She was not afraid of death nor her enemies, for as long as one Fett remained in the Galaxy, their way would live on. That knowledge alone was enough to keep her mind at ease.
She raised her hands up to her helmet, lifting it off her head before tucking it under her arm. Her features still remained sharp, but a small smile softened it as she turned, gesturing for Zavar and his retinue to follow, <"Come. I'm sure the journey was long. I will not be remembered as a poor host to those who have shed blood and steel in battle alongside me. I shall hear what you have to propose."> Careena gestured with a small wave of her hand as the sentries nodded and resumed their patrol. The matriarch would guide the Kelborn past training yards of young and old Mandalorians training with each other. The halls of the Morut were lively with Mandalorians of various clans interacting with one another and sharing tales of battle and the nuances of their individual clans to one another over food and drink.
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IRON BRANCH

Blood, Ice, and Steel - Chapter 1

EQUIPMENTS: In Bio
OBJECTIVE: Court Clan Fett
TAG: Careena Fett Careena Fett

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HOYLIN

Zavar's posture didn't shift into a formal salute, but the way he inclined his head as she removed her helmet was far more personal, a gesture that he soon returned, revealing long, dark brown strands and a young-ish face that is still adjusting to the Alor title. It was the acknowledgement of one leader to another who had both seen the true cost of their culture's survival.

My father spoke of your call to arms until the day he fell,” Zavar replied, his voice losing some of its sharp, diplomatic edge and replacing it with a somber resonance. "To hear he is remembered by the one who sounded the horn... it carries weight. He didn't just fight for the Crusade; he believed in the vision you gave our people when we were at our most fractured. I carry his armor, but I also carry his hope that the iron would one day find its way back to a single forge."

He looked at her extended arm and reached out, gripping her forearm in a firm, traditional warrior's clasp, steel meeting steel. "Clan Kelborn remembers its friends, Alor Fett."

As they began to walk toward the entrance of the Morut, Zavar listened to her defense of the waystation. He watched the younglings sparring and the veterans sharpening blades, his visor scanning the efficiency of the Fett stronghold with a critical, appreciative eye.

"Do not mistake my words for a desire to hide, Careena," he said, his tone turning clinical and sharp. "A beast in a den is a formidable foe, but it is a beast that has surrendered the initiative."

He gestured vaguely toward the horizon, where the stars waited.

"The fleet I am talking about is not a life-raft. It is a striking claw. To move the hearth is to strike first, strike fast, and vanish before the enemy even knows which way the wind is blowing. It's about becoming a predator that the galaxy can never pin down. We sharpen ourselves here, yes, but we deliver the blade where it's least expected."

The sights and sounds of the Morut, the clatter of practice blades and the low hum of communal life seemed to settle something in Zavar. It reminded him of the Storyfires on Kestri, the cold unity that defined his own people.

"I would be honored to sit at your hearth," Zavar said, stepping into the warmth of the hall alongside her. Zavar signaled his master smith to step forward. The smith presented the leather-bound chest, opening it to reveal a specialized piece of Kelborn craftsmanship resting on a bed of dark velvet.

It was a heavy-duty Hunter Beskad, its blade etched with the subtle, interlocking scales of a Mythosaur. The metal had the characteristic matte-black finish of Kelborn steel, designed to absorb light rather than reflect it.

"In our tradition, we do not let the armor of the fallen rest in the dirt. We reforge it into new legend," Zavar explained, gesturing to the weapon. "The pommel of this blade contains a fragment of a Kelborn shield that held the line at the Siege of Mygeeto. It is tempered for the wood of Hoylin and the bone of our enemies alike. Consider it a token of respect, from one hearth to another, and a sign that Clan Kelborn values the hands that hold the frontier."​

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C a r e e n a .F e t t
| Location | The Morut, Hoylin
Careena continued to guide Zavar into the Morut, Mandalorians making way for the matriarch <"Meros will be remembered in our clan's songs and tales, as will every other Mandalorian who heeded the call of the Crusades. He shall not be forgot so long as one of us breathes to tell his tale."> She glanced over her shoulder <"We Fett do not forget either. So long as you trust us to watch your back, we shall trust you with ours.">
Her gaze followed his gesture as he began to talk about movement, his proposition to her. Nothing he said was wrong, nor did she disagree with the intention. Their people were never meant to settle, always on the move, always expanding, and always teaching their ways to those who had yet to discover who they truly were. She only oversaw the Morut as an obligation to her cousin Galaar Fett and what he had built. Before then, she herself had always wandered the stars in search of like-minded individuals, from the Deathwatch to the Sons of Mandalore, and the Neo Crusaders.
The only true home they all shared was Mandalore, which was currently occupied by a narcissistic jester who claimed their name and heritage but spat on it to those who truly understood what it meant to be Sole Ruler.
She sat herself within the communal halls and gestured for Zavar and his companions to do the same. One of them stepped forward at Zavar's signal, presenting the chest that they had been carrying with them since their arrival - An offering to her. Her eyes looked over the weapon, admiring its craftsmanship as she gently lifted it in both hands to inspect it more closely. She felt its weight and balance in her hands as Zavar explained its history,
<"A peculiar practice, but one that I can respect and honor,"> she murmured. Typically, she honored the dead by burying them with the armor they died in, the only exception made being the armor being passed down to the next of kin so that they may bear its legacy. To reforge the honored dead's prized possession into a new legend was certainly something she had not considered. How the clans approached their particular ways and shared them was what she found pride in amongst her people, especially given how the Morut served such a similar purpose.
<"You honor me with this gift, of which I humbly accept. May its edge find our people's enemies and slake its thirst with their blood."> She said as she turned the blade over in her hand, <"Tell me more of this fleet... Whom does it seek to strike? Upon whom will our people's wrath be felt by? A flotilla with no purpose is hardly a flotilla at all. My call to crusade had purpose, so tell me what is yours?"> It was by no means a pointed or question dipped in sarcasm; Careena was curious as to whether this so-called movement would serve an actual purpose or if it was merely a means to gather those on the fringes of space.
Was it a cause worth fighting for? A cause worth potentially dying for? That was all that mattered to the Alor.
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IRON BRANCH

Blood, Ice, and Steel - Chapter 1

EQUIPMENTS: In Bio
OBJECTIVE: Court Clan Fett
TAG: Careena Fett Careena Fett

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HOYLIN

Zavar leaned back, the warmth of the hearth finally chasing the last of the Kestri frost from his features. Without the T-visor between them, his eyes held the steady, unblinking focus of a smith watching the color of heated steel. He let the silence of the hall settle for a moment, letting the weight of her question hang in the air alongside the smell of roasting meat.

"A blade without a direction is just a heavy piece of metal, Careena. You're right to ask," Zavar began, his voice carrying a resonant, natural depth.

He leaned forward, resting his forearms on his knees, his gaze locked onto hers.

"The fleet is meant to reclaim our place in the galaxy. We strike the Sith who think the Core is their playground of terror. and its people and resources are theirs for the taking. We strike the Imperial Confederation when they forget that Mandalorian space is a sovereign wall, not a buffer for their border squabbles. And we strike the Empire of the Verds, to strip the Beskar from those who have turned our legacy into a theater of vanity."

He watched her hand as she tested the balance of the blade. He spoke with the quiet intensity of a man sharing a vision of the Storyfire that hadn't been written yet.

"You've wandered with the Deathwatch and the Neo-Crusaders. You know that we are at our most dangerous when the galaxy doesn't know where we sleep. My cause is the endurance of our culture. If we stay on Kestri, if we stay here on Hoylin, they will eventually bring enough fire to burn us out. But if we are a shadow that moves, a hearth that can be rekindled on a different moon every night, then we become a ghost they can never catch."

Zavar reached out, not to take the blade back, but to tap the heavy timber of the table in a sharp, rhythmic beat; the heartbeat of the forge.

"The Mythos Fleet is the last line made mobile. It is a cause worth dying for because it ensures our children won't have to hide in holes just to speak Mando'a."

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C a r e e n a .F e t t
| Location | The Morut, Hoylin
Careena leaned back in her seat as the fires of the hearth crackled and cast a shadow against her pale features, listening to Zavar speak. She turned the offered blade in her hands, fingertips lightly tracing against its razor sharp edge. The words he spoke certainly resonated with her even if she did not give any outward indication that they did. There were so few things that needed to be said for her to lend her aid to a cause. A mutual hatred of Sith, the indiscriminate pillaging of non-Mandalorians, and finally, upholding their people's values and beliefs. Simple, yet noble causes to abide, and fight for.
She fought against the prostration of their people and humiliation under the leadership of Yasha Mantis and her Empire. She fought tooth and claw against the Sith Empire for their transgressions and betrayal. She would not suffer the humiliation of their people or history any further with the Verd's Empire.
The Morut and its position within High Republic space would make for an ill target to strike at directly. The Mandalorian Empire wouldn't be so bold as to try to strike dissident Mandalorian factions in the territory of their 'allies', as it would be seen as a brazen attack. Should the High Republic somehow manage to find them, they were just as ready to die a glorious death in battle. Either outcome was welcome.
There was no grandstanding or embellishments, just simple and clear vision. A discussion between warriors did not happen at length because there was few things that needed to be said outside of sharing a common goal and battle. Had there been any dispute, all that would need to be done was a simple duel to test whose resolve was stronger. Zavar would find no enemies nor neutral parties here on Hoylin, only comrades.
When Zavar finally finished speaking, she would speak.
<"You speak well, Zavar... I see and hear your resolve. That is indeed a cause worth fighting for. There are many warriors here at present who would agree. Take them with you back to the Mythos Fleet. Their blades and thirst for battle will bolster your ranks..."> She paused as she glanced at her reflection in the blade before looking back at Zavar, standing up.
<"As you answered our call, we too will answer yours. Clan Fett shall rise and fight with you. Death to our enemies and glory to our people.">
She pulled the blade against her palm, its edge cutting and drawing blood. She let the blood well up from the cut before firmly pressing her hand to his breastplate, <"A covenant of iron and blood. This I vow and swear upon as Alor."> She said, as she pulled her hand away, a crimson handprint left on his chest.
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IRON BRANCH

Blood, Ice, and Steel - Chapter 1

EQUIPMENTS: In Bio
OBJECTIVE: Court Clan Fett
TAG: Careena Fett Careena Fett

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HOYLIN

Zavar stood, the heavy bench groaning against the stone floor as he rose to meet her height. He didn't look down at the crimson handprint immediately; he kept his eyes locked on Careena's, acknowledging the weight of the vow she had just anchored to his soul.

He reached out, his hand wrapping around the hilt of the very blade she had just used. With a slow, deliberate movement, he drew the edge across his own palm. He didn't flinch; a warrior is no stranger to the bite of metal, though this was the first time the steel had tasted his own life-force to seal a pact.

As the blood welled, thick and dark, he mirrored her gesture. He pressed his crimson-stained palm firmly against Careena's breastplate. The heat of his hand through the contact was a silent bridge between the Forge of Kestri and the Morut of Hoylin.

"A covenant of iron and blood," Zavar repeated, his voice a low, resonant growl that seemed to vibrate through the metal between them. "Steel for steel. Life for life. Let the galaxy see these marks and know that the hunt has finally found its masters."

He turned his gaze toward the warriors scattered throughout the Morut, those who had been listening to the heartbeat of the conversation.

"Hear her words! To those of you who seek to strike before the enemy finds your door, prepare your gear. The Mythos Fleet does not offer a quiet life, but it offers a name that will be sung long after the Sith and the Verds are dust. We return to Kestri to stoke the fires. Be ready to move when the signal flares."

He looked back to Careena one last time, offering a sharp, warrior's nod, a silent acknowledgment that the path ahead would be paved in the same red that now dried on their chests.

"You have given this fleet its spirit, Careena. Clan Kelborn will ensure the steel is worthy of the hands that will hold it."

Zavar signaled to his retinue, his smith closing the empty leather chest with a sharp snap.

"I will see you in the stars, Alor Fett. Death to our enemies."​

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C a r e e n a .F e t t
| Location | The Morut, Hoylin
Careena nodded, a smile flickering at the corner of her lips. It had been quite some time since she last recalled feeling a sense of pride in her own people and the old ways. She had fought and bled for so long - and it brought relief to know that it wasn't all for naught. Despite the bastardization of their heritage and ways, despite all the conflicts and challenges their people faced, they endured. And with this vow, they would continue to endure.
With the blood of Zavar on her chest, and hers on his, the vow was made. While she would not be at the forefront, she would continue to garner support and rally those who shared in her vision and view of their people. With Clan Munin now without an Alor after Vilaz's death at the hands of Careena, their warriors were eager for battle. Zavar's proposition, with Careena's blessing and support, was now given a purpose - An opportunity for a new Alor to rise to the occasion and take on the mantle of responsibility.
<"Death to our enemies, young Kelborn, and glory to our people. Take with you whatever supplies you need. Clan Munin, and those who are ready will depart with you. When the time is right, I shall join you. Try not to die until then."> She said with a wide smile. The halls of the Morut echoed with a wave of cheers, the hidden heart within the mountains having found a new rhythm to beat to.
United in purpose and duty, they were now a force to be reckoned with once more. She had offered her support, and a pact had been made. On the blood of her ancestors before her, and for those who would come after, she would continue to fight.
Let their legends be carved into the annals of history, and their stories sung by generations to come - for what was a Mandalorian without a legacy?
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IRON BRANCH

Blood, Ice, and Steel - Chapter 1

EQUIPMENTS: In Bio
OBJECTIVE: Court Clan Fett
TAG: Careena Fett Careena Fett

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HOYLIN

Zavar accepted the blessing with a final nod, the cheers of the Morut warriors echoing like thunder against the mountain's heart. He signaled his retinue to begin the coordination of supplies and the integration of the Fett and Munin warriors into the Kar'ta Kelborn's manifest. The crimson handprint on his breastplate felt heavy, a physical weight that anchored him to the future he was about to forge.

As he walked back toward the landing bay, he didn't look back; his eyes were already fixed on the stars visible through the Morut's high vents. Careena had given him the steel, but it would be up to him to sharpen it into the Mythos Fleet as a Voidbrand; the captain that would lead the Covenant into the star. Kestri was waiting, and with it, he contacted Eitri Kelborn Eitri Kelborn to inform the Rekav'dral, and arranged a meeting that would formalize the path he had just carved in blood.​

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[THE END]
[Up Next: Shadows in the Vein]​


 

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