Private No time like the present

[Jenn Kryze]

"I call it as I see it,"

Right. There was nothing to hold against her for doubting such an affirmation in the wake of her earlier outrage, but that still stung a little. Then again, there was no point in arguing otherwise with nothing to prove her words, and so she chose to remain quiet rather than speakin vain. She was already angry enough as it was, all thanks to her own issues and the envy stemming from it.

She tried to find a way for Damsy Callat to have remained a Mando'ade, an alternate route for her to flee from her father's reach whilst remaining true to the Resol'nare... and found none. Contributing to the Clan's welfare could very much be twisted into getting her to do the alor's bidding, and her father sounded like the type of man to fully use his position to keep her boxed in. Had dar'manda truly been her only chance? The possibility of such a thing was... disquieting, to say the least.

Something exemplified by her complete and utter silence. She had no words to offer, no way to counter the argument put before her. Dejected at her lack of oratory skills, Jenn was left with the thought that a less socially awkward child of Mandalore would have been able to find a counter-argument. Remidned of her own inadequacy, she preferred to wallow in her own misery in silence, even as she visibly tensed up.

She hated all of this. Why was she not good enough?

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy thought nothing of the silence but reason to keep going.

"Plus, I'm used the firebrand zealots. Plenty of those here. Think what you will about Jetii*, but I'm trying to get like them. Seems like the best way to get 'way from my Sith destiny," she said that with enough inflection that she didn't need the air quotes she gestured as well, "or whatever the feth. The thing is, they don't like that plan none, at least the few who know I am in fact Spawn. Anything Dark, any amount, and they seek to destroy it.

"Not just me either." Damsy put up two hands, not in surrender but to indicated her surroundings. Even though they were empty, she meant the people rather than the physical place. "Them too. If it was just me, I might lay down and die. Get executed, whatever. But not now, not with these folks relying on me. They're all Spawn. Arisso, the guy I sent away? He's a Techobeast. Maybe you've heard of them a lil'? Used to be near-human—well, nearer—but the Sith infected him with a technovirus and it made 'im that. All against his will, which is the kicker. Real painful too, as he says, though he don't talk much about it. I don't blame him for it.

"And if you don't like that, lady, I tell ya the walls down here are packed to the gills with stories just like that one and mine. None of us had a chance when we were changed."

For the first time in her speech, Damsy broke eye contact with the eye stalks of Jenn's cold T-visor. She got up, grunting a little either in effort or emotion. Quite possibly both. She went over towards where a garland of flags hung down from the ceiling, some almost touching the ground. She ran her fingers over a few: from Korriban to Dantooine to Yavin to Kamino.

"I'll be damned if I can give us one now and don't." She turned back to her Mandalorian guest, arms out as she made her point. "If that ain't honour, I fethin' give up tryin' ta find it."



**
Jenn Kryze

Spoiler: mando'a translations

* = Jedi

 

[Jenn Kryze]

And so it was that she kept listening in silence, betraying nothing of her feelings on the matter- there was nothing else than the T-shaped visor staring a hole through her, making no move at all to interrupt her just yet. It was only when the Sithspawn got up from her seat that she deigned to show any sign of reaction, her body tensing up- as if preparing to reach for her blaster if Damsy Callat tried anything funny. It was more an instinctual reaction than anything conscious, admittedly- but it was there, all the same.

Coming to a decision was... difficult. A part of herself could not help but see these words as nothing more than excuses, meant to let her get away with the betrayal of everything they stood for- the Resol'nare. Their circumstances may be different, but Jenn had lived out her life in strict adherence to the ways of Mandalore, even in the face of insurmountable odds- what was Damsy's excuse? There was always a way, and now... she sought to become a Jedi. Self-righteous masters of deceit, second only to the Sith! Were those her role models? The path she sought to walk?

Jenn had always been a woman of few, meaningful words. So, when she spoke, it was well after caging her anger and thinking things through.
"When they find your little enclave, the Jedi will kill every last one of you. They cannot be trusted- their kind never is. You do understand this, don't you?"
Her voice did not carry the harshness she expected it to have- no, instead, there was... a great deal of concern behind her words. Not for the poor people sheltered here, no- for Damsy Callat, dar'manda or no.

"Protecting these people is a righteous cause, and you're obviously ready to lay down your life for them."
Another pause followed, the silence in the air rather... tense. Finally, she got up from her seat, returning her blaster to its holster as she did so, letting out a weary sigh.
"It's only a matter of time before they find you, vod. I'm obviously not going to be able to talk you out of this... heroic way of killing yourself. But I've seen your conviction, and I have not found it wanting. When the time comes to fight for what you believe in, Jenn of Clan Kryze will stand with you."

 

[Damsy Callat]

"When they find your little enclave, the Jedi will kill every last one of you. They cannot be trusted- their kind never is. You do understand this, don't you?"

Damsy replied, nodding, "Yeah, I'm a little bit slow on the uptake, but at least I learn my lesson." She did understand that, or at least she was starting to. The idealistic part of her didn't want to believe it, not really, while the practical part didn't want to test and see if it was or wasn't. The Sanctorium didn't have the numbers to play around with theories; it was best to just play it safe and go along with what Damsy knew deep in her heart anyway:

The Jedi aren't to be trusted. They'll be giddy to kill Sithspawn.

A shiver ripped through Damsy, visible and violent, the ripples of a reality she had been living in for the last few months finally settling. The feeling it brought started off cold like dread, but then warmed to the temperature of barely bridled hope.

". . . When the time comes to fight for what you believe in, Jenn of Clan Kryze will stand with you."

Therein lay the Light. Damsy blinked against it, more of a feeling than a sight, but making sure it was real nonetheless. It stayed in the pit of her heart, radiating gold. "Really?" she asked carefully. "I-I mean, this isn't your fight. Plus, you'd stand by a dar'manda?"



**
Jenn Kryze

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Her words had a chilling effect on the Dar'manda, that much was undeniable- but she obviously needed to hear the words from someone, and it would have to be from her. The Jedi were a self-righteous lot, unable to leave well enough alone- driven by their perceived duty to bring peace to the galaxy... at the tip of a lightsabre. Peace was a fine thing indeed, as her clan had imparted upon her: it was something worth fighting for, even though such an environment would not let them thrive as war did, for those under their protection needed to flourish.

Perhaps it was only natural that Damsy Callat met her promise with disbelief, and she would not fault her for this. Instead, she slammed her fist against her breastplate, opening her hand and slowly showing the open palm to the other woman- a powerful gesture, taught to her a long time ago. "This may not be my fight, but it's the right thing to do. Clan Kryze never abandoned those they pledged to protect- we fought for them until our very destruction. You are dar'manda, and yet you would do the same for these spawns of the Sith. You are lost to us, never to rejoin the Manda- but you are the protector of those in need, and for this, I will stand by you... and I will fight."

 

[Damsy Callat]

Damsy nodded, knowing better than to repeat the gesture just given to her. "I'm very obliged, Jenn of Kryze," she said as she approached the woman. "Not that I hope I have to call on you." Dar'manda or no, Damsy would have been sick of fighting by now. Half a lifetime of war between Confed special forces, a Mandalorian house, and now service to the Jedi had felt like at least two. Like she had said, though, the Sanctorium was worth any hopes of retirement.

That didn't mean that a part of her didn't hope that this would somehow come to a good conclusion without a similar coming to blows too, though. But it would. All the other parts of her knew it would. It had to.

Plus, having been a warmistress once upon a time, Damsy knew how much battlefield honour meant to the children of the beskar. So she added quickly, "But I will if worst really does come to worst. My word might not mean all the relative much, but I promise." After sticking out a hand for a shake, Damsy pulled it back to glance at her wrist HUD, and start typing. "Here're the coordinates to take ya to Castle Black, seat of House Verd. Last I know anyway, but I severely doubt they picked up and moved."

Her eyes drifted to the pack holding her former cousin's armour. A sadness drifted through her like a harsh chill, settling in her bones for a moment before wafting away and gone. She had resigned rather than just leave. That released her from any real responsibility og what happened to what used to be her army, but she still felt it.

Finally tearing her eyes away to look back at Jenn, she motioned to the beskar'gam, or what was left of it. "An' I'm serious, Dad'll love that you brought that back. Just, uh...do what you gotta, but don't name my name, eh?"

After that, Damsy would walk Jenn out to the elevator shaft, ready to watch a confusing new relationship disappear over the uppermost ledge into the Underworld.



**
Jenn Kryze