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Khamul Kryze
GEAR: In bio
Jos nodded faintly as he listened to the man’s words, though he made no attempt to interject or speak up for the moment. He did what he was known for. Sit back and listen, let his companion speak his mind and allow the Kel Dor to think carefully about each word spoken. Though he couldn’t help but let out a soft chuckle as annoyance briefly flared up from the Mandalorian across from him.
”I just realized… Neither of us formally introduced ourselves yet.” He spoke up after the man finished. He leaned forward and stretched a hand out towards the man to shake.
”I am Jos Krayt. Shaman of the Mandokarla and Alor of Clan Krayt.” He spoke with a clear and polite voice.
He leaned back and looked at the tea in front of him for a moment.
”I would not dare to call it hubris, Mand’alor. I understand better than most. The mask of the Mand’alor might not adorn my face, but I am a Shaman. A guardian and guide for our people. Men like us do not have the luxury of showing weakness in our lowest points, or taking a break from our duties. Even now, despite the Manda’s will for me to be here, I feel that I am letting my people down by not being there for them now. I am sure you feel the same.” His gaze lifted to stare into the man’s T-visor once again.
”However, please do not take this as an insult… I do believe there is a sense of arrogance in believing that the Dark Side is a tool for you to use in the service of your people. And not the other way around.” With a wave of his hand his cup and teapot lifted into the air. The cup was filled and the pot was set down again as the cup drifted to his hand. His free hand reached up and carefully released the mask from his face, revealing his
true appearance to the Mand’alor for a moment as he took a long sip, finishing the cup in one go. Still holding his breath, his pitch black eyes were hidden once again as he set the mask back in its rightful place.
A deep breath escaped him as he was finally able to breathe again.
”My apologies, my throat was somewhat parched.” A smile traced every word as he looked at the man.
”You know the Dark Side well, Mand’alor. However, I do too. To believe that one is capable of wielding its power, no matter how noble or pure their intention, is a mistake. This… feud… between our people is evidence enough of that. I apologize for assuming you claimed to be Sith, and call the Maw your allies, however I must also show you the flaws in this path you have chosen.” There was a hint of sadness in his voice. A weight of pity and guilt over having to be at such odds with his own kin.
”As Mandalorians, we are not just warriors. We are not just bloodthirsty hounds itching to throw our lives away in battle. If we were, me and you would be no better than the tens of thousands that have met their end at the end of my people’s barrels. No, as Mandalorians, we are, above all else, survivors. Where the Jedi stagnate, where the Sith grow comfortable, our people adapt and move on. We do not forget our past and our traditions, but we also do not let them tie us down. We fight to punish our enemies, but we also fight to preserve our people. To secure a future for our sons and daughters to keep our legacy alive. This is the Way.”
A long sigh escaped him as he looked away for a moment.
”Although… I do have one reassurance for you. After what happened on Ilum… I have foreseen a bloody future for our people. The day when Imperial stormtroopers will learn to fear the howls of our Basilisks and the thunder of our guns is a lot closer than I thought.”