Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Old and New (Aden, Mesh, PM for invite)

The Avril broke through concord's atmosphere with Strider Garon at the helm. The legendary warrior comfortably sat in the pilot's chair of the ancient amphibious gunboat. There were few places in the galaxy that the old man felt at peace and holding the yoke of his beloved ship was one of the few. The other would of been the Garon homestead outside of keldabe, but that is long gone now. Ash and ruins were what remained, just another scar in his history of many.

So many scars, so much hurt and pain, tragedies upon atrocities and yet still standing. Such was the stubborn ways of the mandalorian culture, didn't matter what life threw at them. Didn't matter how hard they were knocked down, they still found the heart and willpower to stand and keep fighting. Was the reason that as hard as some have tried, the mando'ade will never be exterminated.

Strider was a testament to that, his body littered with scars reading like a bible that preached a gospel of hard violence. Old age was something he did not believe he would achieve. Old age and all its glory, some say it was a honor and blessing that was earned. Arthritis sure as hell did not feel like a blessing. Nor was having to take a pill to enjoy the company of woman. Venerable was the word he would of used. He woke some mornings wishing that his brother Garrus had not saved him from certain death.

He rubbed the scar on his throat. Such dark thoughts vanished as he could hear the giggle of his grandson, Valen, sitting on his mother's lap in the copilot seat. Such reminded him that old age was a blessing, no matter what he had to suffer there was nothing more complete in the galaxy then being in the presence of grandchildren. Proof that Clan legacy and all that you are would carry on through them. Plus, that damned contagious laugh the child had could brighten the darkest of days.

Strider reached over " Come here Val'ika, Ba'buir need help with landing!" his voice, though gritty and rough was as soft as he could make it. He gripped Valen and revealed Mesh's hold on her baby as he moved the kid to his lap. Yes, not exactly safe practice and they probably did have baby seats for space crafts. But..... how was the kid going to learn all strapped up and protected like such.

"Look!" He pointed to the port side of the cockpit, they were flying over what looked like golden shag carpet, wheat fields upon wheat fields. It had been a few decades since Strider had traveled to this side of concord. Clan history dictated this was where it all started for them. A clone commando and his wife, accompanied by his squad mates, had built a simple farmstead out here, learned to work the lands and spawned Clan Garon. The last time he had visited the old homestead, it was nothing but a hollowed out ruin defeated by time. Mostly just foundation was evident that there was proper dwelling on it. The wheat was still in good growth meaning someone was still harvesting. The land itself was still the Clans, there were just one concordian family working it. They had their own home and instead of paying rent, they helped with the harvest and kept percent of the profits.

His Grandson would look out the window, but hands placed on the transparisteel in awe. "This here, all yours little man!" He turned his head to look at his daughter in-law and his son Aden who was in the backseat. "I meant to give this to you guys long time ago. All of it"



When [member="Strider Garon"] banked the Avril to give a great view of the valley where his clan had started out all those years ago with help of his little co-pilot who was siting excitedly on his grandfather's lap of course, the sea of golden wheat tops waving up at them in the soft breeze was a most welcoming sign they were in the right place. A bittersweet tear rolled down Mesh's cheek as electric blue eyes peered out of the cockpit's viewport.

The all but dead farm girl in Mesh'la was sparked to life once again at the wondrous sight. It so reminded her of Mandalore and the homestead where she grew up at, farmed, and almost died at when a massive earthquake hit Keldabe when Manda'yaim was destroyed from within by their own. Since that time Concord Dawn had become her home, but it hadn't really felt like yet. Though with the return of [member="Aden Dral"] into her and Valen's life once again, at least the family was together again. It was a start, and now the old hound was gifting his legacy to them to make their own. The young medic felt very moved by Strider's generosity.

Mesh'la quickly wiped off the fallen moisture with the back of her hand, then turned her golden head to flash a tender smile at the seasoned Field Marshall. "Vor entye, Stri'buir. You are too kind," she offered sincerely, reaching over to touch the grizzled man's arm in an affectionate way. Mesh knew her mother would be most pleased with Strider's actions towards one of Bree's own. There had always been a special kinship between the Tor and Garon through out the years. The Hound of Keldabe really did have a heart.

A brief look over Mesh's shoulder to Aden sitting in one of the passenger seats behind the pilot chairs told her wayward husband all he needed to know. "We will make you proud, and raise Val'ika to do the same in the name of Clan Garon."

A smile stretched across Aden's features as he watched his son in Strider's lap bouncing at the chance to land the ship. Stri'buir had always been a hands on kind of instructor. That's how Aden had become such a good shot. The old Field Marshal had expected it, and kept Aden out many a late afternoon until he was perfect in form and target. There was nothing the young man could miss at this point, though it meant his skills in other areas were lacking. His was the art of cover and sharpshooting. Valen would learn in time, but today it was how to handle the heavy ship.

There was a brief moment where Aden's breath nearly failed him. The Garon homestead was theirs? Mesh'la and Aden had agreed they would be involved in the raising of their son, but this was pushing them further toward a proper family once more. If Aden hadn't known better he would take what Strider was doing as meddling, but the sniper knew his father well enough to know Mesh'la had always been seen as a daughter to the grizzled old man. There was one thing Aden always knew, Strider had never once disapproved of his son being involved with the daughter of [member="Briika Tor"].

Golden wheat, nearing the season for harvest colored the ground. Aden's smile came full wide when Mesh'la thanked Strider, and looked back to him. His dark eyes caught hers for a brief moment searching for anything behind the statement that would give him hope renewing their riduurok. "Clan Garon will be strong in numbers once more," Aden replied. He nodded to Mesh'la knowing that she intended to build a home with him here. The homestead was now under their charge.

"There is a lot of work to be ready for the harvest. A yaim will need to be built, storehouses, barns for cattle. I may have to decline some of the contracts you take on old man..."

Aden reached forward and put a hand on Mesh'la's shoulder. "And Mesh'ika and I will need you around more often to watch Val'ika so we can work... and find us a river."

[member="Strider Garon"] [member="Mesh'la Dral"]

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