Junction Mother Knows Best [ ME & TSC Junction of Hapes & Empty Hex ]

[Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata]

OBJECTIVE 1

Spoiler: Arms and Armor

Ship: The Cabur Rekr (The Guardian Wolf)
Blade: Tal'Alor Beskad
Secondary Weapon: Bastion-Pattern Kad’au

Kael took a deep breath. "Alor, cuyir bic katkrabagr par ni at cuyir asas naohe asas Ni cuyir bat nii? Ni copaanir at cuyir jatne Ni liser par eskarir ibac ganar dinuir ni bid ketye, par ner buir meg hiibir ni o'r. Ni kebbur at cuyir jatne, a Ni aalar emuurir ibac gotal'ur ni jaon briyihilyr be nii, bal Ni chaab ibac meh Ni trattok'or skotah, Ni ganar echoy'la ijaa, bintar par nii bal eskarir. Ni kar'taylir ibac jarjap'u kaab meyu katsunalye. Ni cuyir su kebbur at wicar nii dayn vaal kebbur at taylir nii at tya'narnr Ni haa'taylir o'r verd rud ni, Mi'nihy'a, ner Buir, bal meg Ni kar'taylir be katlase Si'kahya. Ni mraira Verd'gotten, a Ni su tionas nii at get anay kubaka."

Kael slowly looked away; here he was trying to hold himself at nineteen to the standard people twice his age held themselves to. It didn't matter that his lack of upbringing developmentally stunted him. At times, Kael felt like the warrior many others saw; much more often, he felt like an actor in a play. A very dangerous and life-threatening play. However, the way his mother had been working lately, he didn't want to add to her troubles.

Tag: Itzhal Volkihar

 

[Itzhal Volkihar]

| Location | Hapes, Inner Rim
| Location | I - The Ascent of The Queen Mother

Was it little wonder that the boy struggled to measure himself against the lofty aspiration he'd set: the Warmaster of the Great Heathen Armies—a force of nature who had once held the mantle of Mand'alor, and even now held few equals in a Galaxy filled with living legends. Even if Itzhal were to discard such an extreme, the boy's mother was a remarkable woman, a Jedi warrior forged through trials and tribulations that had clearly left their mark, long before the creed that settled over her frame like the beskar'gam she donned. No matter how much she might deny her own abilities.

If anything, Itzhal wouldn't be surprised if that surprising mixture of competency and humility that defined Adelle Bastiel had only further addled Kael's ability to judge the feats of those around him. Compared to them, the Wardens were an eclectic bunch, filled with varying degrees of renown, though one could never forget that each and every one of them had been trusted enough to oversee a planet or, in the case of some, entire sectors.

No, it was little wonder.

"Katkrabe?" He lingered on the word, buy'ce tilted towards the windows and the city beyond. "Gar kavera kak bu'yrao yayira be akaan bal mies meg ganar cuyanir adol srubr ibac ahrida verd miai a neutata ahrida a kal. Narir va baryr kat gar watr; meh gar oyacyir munit luubid, val malyasa'yr hbina gar pirusti. A gar cuyir evaar'la, bal ca'nara malyasa'yr rejorhaa'ir biai ta'ya gursa gar. Ni malyasa'yr shi ba'slanar gar ti bu'litr at nabaya yo gar kak- briyihr cuyir celye ra meh bic cuyir ketbu'u va naohe. Cuyir naohe, a cuyir celye. Bal meh gar va subay cuyir celye, miak mar'eyir mies ibac liser."

Direct: Kael Varr Bastiel Skirata
Mentioned: Mia Monroe Adelle Bastiel​

 

[Sabine Delacroix]

The shift in Sabine was subtle, but it was there.

Mercy's eyes moving across her shoulders did not go unnoticed. There were cultures in which posture was merely posture, an unconscious thing that betrayed what the tongue attempted to conceal. Among the Echani, it had always been something more deliberate than that. Sabine had lived far too long not to understand both languages.

Her attention returned fully to Mercy as the Empress continued. The cigarette case drew a glance before Sabine accepted one between two fingers, allowing Mercy to light it before bringing it to her lips. She listened through the first slow draw, amber eyes steady upon the woman opposite her.

"You have given that pattern considerably more thought than you implied." Sabine exhaled the smoke away from them, letting it curl into the air between conversations around them. "The pattern is persistent. I will grant you that." Persistent but not immutable. She left that distinction unspoken. This was not the place for an in-depth discussion of philosophy. Mercy had already given her enough to understand that the first answer had been a test rather than truthful. Whether it had been caution, amusement, or the instinct of a ruler measuring someone unfamiliar mattered less than the fact that there was something worth measuring beneath it.

At the question, Sabine's gaze remained upon her. "Enough to avoid becoming an historian," she answered dryly as the corner of her mouth shifted slightly. "I have never found observation particularly useful unless one is prepared to act upon what one learns." She took another measured draw from the cigarette before lowering it beside her glass. "Though I suspect your definition of action has changed somewhat since acquiring a throne."

​

TAG: Mercy