Public Promises Made [Open to Kestri]

[Koda Fett]

KESTRI, TOR VALUM

The Spear III struck across the skies over the frozen tundra, an endless sea of snowfields and mountainous terrain ahead of the vessel as it soared beside the clouds far overhead. It seemed to be a faint icon from the surface, the vessel, not to be mistaken for a creature and known to be a craft in the end. Yet not one seen in Mandalorian territories for some time now, once outlawed in them beside the owner - there had been a time defenses had no doubt taken aim by now, or even fired absent so much as a threat, and the same realisation had ensured some amount of caution in Fett as various systems had been sent to standby in the moment. But such times had since been over, the loss of Mandalore had ensured that as the names that once loathed the man had been lost to time, to the Sith.

Such hatred harboured towards them had not comforted Koda.

He continued to benefit from their contracts, and the Spear III itself had been a marvel of Sith creation; commissioned by the Dark Lord Carnifex himself. Beneath the T-visor, Fett considered if it had been all that was needed for a hatred for himself to remain, but such details need not be mentioned to those of the Enclave. Not a lie as much as it had been an omission of the truth, he decided, all too aware of the nature of said statement. Too much time in the underworld beside the scum and the worms of Nal Hutta had caused it, or so he told himself. Discomforted by his own lie, it seemed.

But all the once invasive ideas had vanished in an instant once Tor Valum had come into view, the vast centre of the Mandalorian Enclave had been far beyond the limited idea of it that once rested inside his mind. He circled overhead numerous times in a bid to examine it, and as traffic slowed his craft, Fett had been able to see the City Core, the Ravine, and in time the Sundari Memorial Spaceport. He descended next into the initial layers after a brief conversation with traffic control. His earlier concerns faded, then.

In his elsewhere noticeable armour, Fett left his rented bay into a sea of others that seemed so identical to himself; differentiated by the colours and the bruises of their armour. It discomforted the man somewhat, to say the least, but a vow had been made to an old man. Lie as much as he must to himself, but Koda could not do the same to Ijaat. He owed him for his services.

Arsani Shrike

 

[Arsani Shrike]

TOR VALUM, KESTRI

Zahira watched the skies. Kestri was a world so unlike that of her birth world. She had known the sun-streaked deserts of Manas since her childhood. Yet, Kestri was the opposite. Snow and ice as far as the eye can see. At least the structures of the spaceport helped block the chilling wind.

Her business there was important one. She had been tasked by her elders to bring an important visitor their world. She held up a holo-projector, depicting the rotating image of a modified Firespray-class ship. This is the ship that she was told he would be arriving in. She stood as she saw that very ship descend into a vacant dock in the port. She carefully assessed the occupant as he stepped out.

He was Mandalorian. Or, at very least, someone who had been gifted with armor fashioned in their traditions. If this man was who said he was, Zahira could see the resemblance to his forebears on his armor alone. But armor alone does a Mandalorian make. She approached him at a respectful distance.

"Su cuy'gar, hunter." She greeted him in Mando'a, "I seek the one named Koda Fett. I am told he flies a ship such as this."

Her visored eyes stared cautiously, awaiting his response to her query.

"My elders have solicited me to welcome him home."

Koda Fett

 

[Koda Fett]

He came to a slow halt, his footfalls no more in the busier area as foot-traffic continued to shift about on either side of them; scarce few seemed to care of the arrival or the confrontation, no matter the nature of it, as the occasional turn of a visor or bare eyes found themselves on the two. Fett held his blaster over his shoulder, a thumb under the strap that connected it to his armoured frame comfortably. If he intended to use it or not was a separate matter entirely.

"I am Koda Fett," answered the voice out from underneath the worn helmet, a healthy amount of skepticism rife throughout his tone. "I've come to contract myself out to the Enclave for a time, as payment per the wishes of the Ijaat Mereel; the Iron Father."

The Mandalorian had a firmness to him, even as his neck craned upwards to speak to the Mandalorian taller than himself by no small amount.

"What else have your elders demanded of you?"

Arsani Shrike

 

[Arsani Shrike]

Zahira was quick to note the apprehension in his voice. She was not surprised, however. If even half the stories she had heard about Koda Fett were true, he was a man who had reason to be skeptical. Bounty hunter by trade, Mandalorian by birth. Helmeted vision watched him carefully before proceeding.

"Ijaat Mereel is well respected." She nodded, "And your reputation as a hunter is legend, even among Te Mando'ade."

She looked over his armor. Scraped and discolored, just as rough as the man who wore it. Zahira decided to explain herself as well.

"My elders wish to reconnect the wayward son of Clan Fett with his people." She spoke plainly, "I am merely your guide. Your reconciliation awaits."

She motioned toward outside of the spaceport and out to the greater parts of the city. Tor Valum awaited them, and so did a hope that Koda could be welcomed back to a people he had been exiled from.

Koda Fett

 

[Koda Fett]

Legend. He balked at the notion, the idea of celebration cast onto the same trade his fellows had once found cause to ridicule him for. ‘Bounty Hunter above all,’ the lot of them said, unable to afford a true commitment to the Mando’ade.

Perhaps it had been in his nature to disconnect, to detach and be alone. He never much found fondness beside others, scarce few cherished his own companionship too. But it was a Galaxy that altered itself at a moments notice, the limited list of friends and allies need be rectified. Legend or not, it was sure to herald his demise if no such connections could be made.

“I’m only a man,” Fett dismissed as he set himself at ease and motioned outwards, even if some small fraction of himself fed on such remarks. “Just better at killing than most others.”

“I know little of the Enclave, less so of reconciliation. Tell me of them, if you will.”

Arsani Shrike

 

[Thrassk]

-

 

[Arsani Shrike]

Zahira's body language seemed show that she was pleased by his answer. She began walking outward of the docking bay. She began to collect herself to regale her new companion of the Enclave's history.

"To understand the Enclave, Koda Fett..." She spoke, sounding more a storyteller than warrior, "You must understand the recent history of the Mandalorian people."

She walked carefully onto the streets of Tor Valum, snow crunching under her boot. The city was vibrant, and filled with Mandalorians amassed not since the Purge.

"It begins in the twilight of Mand'alor the Infernal's reign." She spoke with vehemence to Yasha, "As much she was a great warrior, she allowed decadence to our people."

She clenched her fists some. The memory of pain regarding what came next still stung, even after so many years.

"In our decadence, we Mandalorians lost our way. And we became vulnerable." She growled, "Emperor Carnifex came and brought ruin to our people, bathing Great Manda'yaim in blood and hellfire. Many of our vode were slain by the Sith..."

She could remember that day of fire and death. Of having to come out alive. To survive. Her clan was small to start with, but now she was only one of ten who bore the clan name Shrike.

"The children of Mandalore became scattered, like ashes upon a wind." She continued, "And those of us who flocked to the Taung world of Roon became the Enclave."

For emphasis, she spread out her arms. Here, on Kestri, the Enclave thrived. Mandalorians thrived. And it was here that they started to rebuild.

"That is our history, aside from our discovery of forgotten Kestri and its reclamation." She sighed, regaining her composure, "But questions do you seek of our Enclave itself? I will answer to best of my knowledge."

Koda Fett

 

[Koda Fett]

He held onto his own memories of Yasha and her cadre. Her rule, her followers - a fractured start, the infamous Red Coronation, had no doubt ensured a failed end. The Infernal, as those fools so often referred to her as, had met their demise from the Dark Lord. Deserved, Fett determined internally. Even in his detatched state from the culture, far from those that once ensnared his duties, and unable to care so much as to aid them in their final moments, the Mandalorian had not refrained from the brief, morbid notion: what if?

If it had been different for but one day. If Ronan had been honoured in his duel, afforded the chance to see it end and defeat Yasha in the duel for the title of Mand'alor. It should have been then, by all customs, that she was cast aside but her beloved lot had ensured her reign. Had Mandalore had the chance to stand, even still, if that outcome had been different altogether? Perhaps, maybe.

But for all that internal muse that fired off so soon, Koda had made but one noise as he understood all that Zahira had said, "Hnh."

His T-visor turned across to see her then, the snow beneath them to crunch underfoot as each footfall had come to be. "I earned the ire of Yasha's Empire, and those feuds run as thick as the blood that bound them all as one. It was death for me should I have entered that system, do those that remain from her rule still hold themselves to those sentiments?"

Arsani Shrike

 

[Arsani Shrike]

Zahira gave a bit of nod at his question. She truthfully did not have a concrete answer for him. She then gave a little chuckle before addressing him once more.

"I would say that you were not shot down nor apprehended by the Karjr or the Si'kahya says something about our attitudes toward you." She noted, "As far as I can observe, your death mark died with Yasha Cadera."

She kept waking him through the city. The one thing that she noticed about Koda was his distance towards others. His demeanor seemed as cold as the snow that chilled the Kestrian air. She had earnest hope that the Enclave could help him find a place among them.

"But as far as reconnecting with us here, that will largely depend on you. And the will of The Quartermaster and any other Fetts who have taken refuge with us." She elaborated, "The Quartermaster is the highest authority among this Enclave."

She thought a moment. Perhaps she should explain the hierarchy as well.

"She is not Mand'alor, nor does she claim to be, as that implies she wishes to rule over all Mandalorians." She clarified, "As you might surmise, not all of our vode see the point in joining our Enclave."

In the distance, she noticed one of the local drinking spots. Zahira turned once more to Koda, light glinting off of her visor.

"Perhaps we can speak better sitting down." She sighed with amusement, "Can I offer the great Koda Fett a drink?"

Koda Fett

 

[Koda Fett]

His demeanour had been cold, if not callous or cruel; a career entrenched in the lies of others and the murder of them after murders of their own had ensured a distrustful nature, and the acts of said others had done no favours to see that turn to a set of distant memories. He was better alone, unreliant on another, far more content to shoot the man that crossed him then to find a much nicer outcome. Yet, Fett had listened to Zahira on each letter, and chose to believe her admission of the truth about the Enclave.

He was not shot at, nor offered much attention other than her own.

For all the Mandalorian could tell, she had not lied thus far.

"I remember small and scattered amounts of Mandalorians here and there," Fett confessed, "But never a Mand'alor after 'the Infernal', the title is trouble, invites contest and the loser has never lost until his cause is shattered, forces destroyed, and the future he vied for is lost. No one wins there."

He sat, next, and offered a dismissive wave at the mention of a drink;

"I came for a contract, two or three. Reconnect isn't the best term, more of an alliance between myself and the Enclave. Business takes me elsewhere too often to truly latch onto the Enclave."

Arsani Shrike

 

[Hiron Vizsla]

Arsani Shrike Koda Fett

Hiron Vizsla was here on business.

The Clan was slowly making their name known on Rishi, but with such close proximity they couldn't ignore the Enclave. One day or another they'd step foot on it and claim it for their own, just as they had with Tatooine. Better to start cultivating relationships before that occurred. So, Hiron spend the day drawing up contracts with local Mando'ade businesses. Foodstuffs, ammo supplies, the works. Nations were far less likely to go to war if their economies were entwined.

Maybe the same could be said about clans.

"Infernal?" Hiron heard the name without the quotation marks and took it seriously. He glanced over his shoulder and noticed... Koda Fett? Brows furrowed behind the sharp crimson visor.

"Is that Koda Fett I see, breathing and consorting with fellow Mando'ade?" Vizsla murmured in amusement as he approached. Inclining his head to Shrike, who he did not know at all. But Koda he knew. They had done a few jobs together. Back before and after the Red Coronation. Didn't know him that well, but... enough to talk shop with.

He didn't ask if he could sit down with them. Instead Hiron just pulled up a chair and did so.

"Hiron Vizsla," To Shrike. "A-... Alor to the Vizslas of Rishi." Still felt weird to say that. Didn't feel right. But Ronan gave his blessing, so it was okay, how could it not be?

But that status change would be a surprise to Koda and might even invite some false assumptions.

 

[Arsani Shrike]

"You make it sound as if the Enclave is an anchor that never can be drawn up." She spoke pointedly, "Or that you are the only Mandalorian who has chosen the wandering life of a hunter."

She was going to continue her point, but she felt another presence join them. Her visor stared with a coolness as Hiron joined them. She knew of him, at least in part, but not his intentions. When he showed himself as friendly, her posture relaxed some.

"Su cuy'gar, Hiron Vizsla." She gave a polite bow of her head, "I am Zahira Shrike. Of the admittedly smaller Clan Shrike, formerly of Concordia."

She stared between the two men, and pondered the history between them. The Vizsla seemed to know Koda quite well.

"I was just show our dear brother Fett around our fine city." She added, "He comes seeking contracts with the Enclave. Please join us. And might I offer you something since this stubborn strill refuses?"

There was a hint of amused teasing toward Koda and his business-like demeanor. She also wanted to be hospitable. The Vizsla was an alor, after all.

Koda Fett | Hiron Vizsla

 

[Koda Fett]

"For now," came his swift answer to Hiron, the Vizsla lot all too aware of Fett and his fiercely isolationist nature. Ronan more so than the rest, if the man had still drawn breath; the sort to die on the surface of Mandalore once the Desolation had come, if not that then retain his own forces on Wayland in order to resist the Imperials. Hiron struck out on his own.

Commendable.

His reaction had been subtle in the sudden and faint movement, the T-visor tilted as if unsure.

"Is Ronan..." He trailed, the intent stare on Hiron remained as if to await the answer. Both that old man and Fett himself had been there, there at the dawn of Mandalore's demise, the fall and destruction of their homeworld. But as Ronan latched onto the clans, his clan, the Fett found himself far from their cause and entrenched in the accounts of those that battled the Mandalorians.

Had it been shame that swelled within him, then? He couldn't tell, neither did he want to.

But even as Zahira made her remark, Koda offered no semblance of humour. His own had been foul, in a sense, more morbid than all else. His lack of socialisation to be the one to blame, but then to be beside those that treated him in this manner had been a stark contrast.

"But she's right, I owe Ijaat Mereel service to the Enclave and so here I am."

Arsani Shrike | Hiron Vizsla

 

[Hiron Vizsla]

Arsani Shrike Koda Fett

"Good to meet you, Zahira Shrike." His hand going to his chestpiece for a brief moment before inclining his head. "Some cider would be good. I have been talking all day an' that does a number on ya." It was strange how much fun Hiron had with it though. Back in his younger years as an assassin he thought he'd be dreadfully bored in a position like Ronan's.

No, better to just hunt and kill and trapeze through the Galaxy with no care in the world.

Except that he felt more alive now than ever before. Like he woke up from a fever dream. Something unreal. He accepted the glass and took a grateful sip. It only stayed with that one sip since Koda's next covered-up question drew Hiron's attention. A smile there. "The ol' bull is still rampaging through the Galaxy, fret not."

Sometimes Hiron thought he'd outlive all of them.

"Ne'tra Fleet ripped free from Empire control. We lost some o' the ships, the ones the Imperials had too much control over, but we scuttled them before they had any idea what was happening." Hiron shrugged. "Last I 'eard they were making port over Jabiim, trying to trade salvage for ores, if you want to try an' touch base with the old man."

Then his attention shifted back to Shrike and his drink on top of that.

"Yeah, I will accompany you. I haven't had an official tour myself either, so should be interesting enough." He couldn't help but grin at Koda's last words however.

"Always in service o' someone, Fett. I wonder if the day ever comes you try an' stake yar own claim to leadership. Clan Fett might be all the better for it."

The tone of it suggested this was a sparring session Koda and Hiron already had many times before.

 

[Arsani Shrike]

Koda Fett // Hiron Vizsla
Zahira nodded towards the youthful Alor, waving down a server droid. The spindly, humanoid thing walked its way over to the table. The Shrike plunked down some credits.

"A cider for my companion." She spoke in a polite tone, "That will be all."

She could partake in such things another time. Besides, her oaths to the Way forbade her from removing he helmet in front of others. She was not going to break them for a mere glass of alcohol. The droid beeped in return, accepting the credits and hobbled toward the bar.

"I am glad you will join us, Viszla." She said in a courteous voice, "Tor Valum offers many things to its people."

The droid soon returned with Hiron's drink, placing it carefully on the table in front of him. It chirped happily before moving on to other patrons. Zahira stared between the two men. She could sense there was a history between them.

"From what I have gleaned from our esteemed Son of Fett, I do not think he seeks leadership." She analyzed, "Forgive me for speaking so plainly, Koda. Your impression suggests one who does not want to be tied down."

She watched him carefully. She was curious as to why he had such reluctance. Was his banishment by the Infernal so damning to him?

 

[Koda Fett]

"I never have," Fett answered so soon, the notion of more than a few contracts at most had not crossed him so much as once. The Mereel had been owed, and this was the cost of it. No more, and no less. No elevated role amidst those that often failed to stand for Fett and his antics, his lack of devotion to a cause other than his own. Carnifex said it best, of them all, he blazed his own trail, existed on his own terms.

He never dared to lead a life not of his own creation, not of his own creed.

Honourable as the Mandalorians may be, his own as a Bounty Hunter suited him and his lifestyle more. Neither traditions nor customs, rules nor tenants seemed to have differed from the Infernal. He was bound to recieve a similar fate here, he considered.

"But I serve myself," his attention shifted across to Hiron, "No one has me if there is no reward."

He'd been there, on Mandalore otherwise, or here to rebuild 'his' culture.

He was not one of them; never could be.

-----

Hiron Vizsla Arsani Shrike

 

[Hiron Vizsla]

Arsani Shrike Koda Fett

Hiron was about to point out that it sounded like the Galaxy's oldest profession.

But while he might have ribbed Koda in private or among friends, Shrike was a new... visor. It would be disrespectful to take the piss on Fett through that context. Shame, though. It was a brilliant joke. Then again... the way Hiron barely suppressed a grin might have tipped Koda off anyway. That would have to be enough.

"Yeah, Fett's always been like that, that's for sure." Hiron said with a shrug as he took a sip from his cider. Ah. He was the only one at the table without his helmet on.

It felt kinda weird.

"Always on the move, chasing one contract o' the other." Murmured bemused as he took another sip. "The Civil War added some variety to that, but I see ol' birds make no permanent changes after all." He wondered what sort of service Koda was imaging here. As far as Vizsla was aware this Enclave was an ambitious sort.

They were carving a nice slice of territory out of the burning remnants of the Confederacy.

Tatooine just a while ago.

Vizsla had settled on Rishi himself and he wouldn't be surprised if they showed up there soon enough. That would make for interesting conversations he figured.

"So, Shrike. Tell me- what are the intentions of the Enclave for this region? We are far away from Mandalore. Do you plan on making this a home away from home for all Manda?"