Rally When Called

[Carbon]

Emberli wasn't a speechgiver. He'd never been a speechgiver. So, when the Mand'alor spoke to his people, it was usually just a summons sent out in word form through the holonet. While fully capable of getting in front of large crowds and making a lengthy motivational verbal wall of speech, it didn't jive well with his reserved personality and personal nature.

Thus it was that when he'd sent out his latest call to the Mandalorians to rally, it was through the holonet and the message was the same as ever. Mand'alor calls you home. That was, truthfully, one of the only complaints some Mandalorians had of their leader - he wasn't loud and boisterous. Others found that a rather redeeming quality.

Here, on the world of Mandalore, the Sole Ruler of the Mando'ade stood on a hill overlooking Keldabe and its patchwork assortment of buildings. Behind him, a banner fluttered in the breeze coming off the river. It was a banner several millenia old and preserved in a stasis field until such a time as it would be used again. It was found in the same group of treasure as the golden mask that Emberli now sported - the mask of Mandalore.

But, for all of his hate of giving speeches, Emberli knew when they were called for; this was likely one of those times. So, once he'd been informed that most of his people had made their way back to their home planets of the Mandalorian system and those of neighboring ones. Around him stood the varied leaders of the Mandalorian clans, dressed in yellow armor that had been refashioned to give the appearance of the Neo-Crusader suits of old.

Arrayed around him were a few holocameras and recorders for this broadcast to his people, one that would shape their future.

Speaking, as he should (in Mando'a) Emberli began, "Brothers, Sisters. The time has come for us to stop being greedy guns for hire. The galaxy respects us... but they no longer fear us. Our reputation wanes as we waste away our years to make our bank accounts large. We've lost sight of the ideals of our ancestors of whom we know to never forget. We stopped walking the path of a warrior and walked that of the mercenary, something wholly different. It seems as though we seek to avoid our past, instead of embracing it.

For the past four years that I've been your Sole Ruler, I've been commissioning War Forges to churn out armor and weapons for the coming crusades. So, my family, I have very little I wish you to do. But, what I want is very important; collect your weapons, your armor and your assignments from the Field Marshals and Rally Masters - look for the ones in Gold and Red - and await further orders. The time will come, very soon, where we will take back our place in this galaxy. But first we must prepare. Train yourselves until you cannot go any further, and then, like a true Mandalorian, push beyond that. Sharpen your mind. Learn new strategies and tactics.

No longer will we waste away into old age - we will once more yearn to die young and in battle, furthering the honor of your clan and family. Every day is a good day for someone else to die; we'll show the galaxy that no longer will we be their lackeys that they can pay to do whatever they wish us to. We fight for ourselves now, and no one else."

Behind him, the Field Marshals began screaming his title, and the lights for the holocameras and recorders went off. The rallying cry had gone out, the message had been sent, and Mandalore began walking down the hill towards the city to make sure preparations would begin as soon as possible. The yellow armored Field Marshals ran ahead of him to usher people around, and he himself would be in the thick of it. After all, in Mandalorian society, you were expected to be one of the grunts no matter your rank.

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Behind the Mand'alor and behind the wave of a dozen or so Field Marshals stood a man dressed entirely in black. His armor shone brightly and streaks of blue showed brightly on his chest. The man wearing it as slumped over slightly, his chest rose and fell several times as if he was asleep. Finally the Mand'alor called out loudly. With a start the figure seemed to jolt slightly and immediately straighten his back. He looked around for a few seconds then seemed to relax again. The figure crossed his arms and then looked at his Mand'alor. When his leader finished speaking the figure seemed to shrink back as the other Field Marshals moved forward to organize those who had appeared.The figure standing behind all the commotion was Field Marshall Tal Nemene. The man stood in stark contrast to his other Field Marshals. Their armor was solid gold while his was still a mixture of black and blue. A few had complained about this, although it had been to no avail. Tal was awarded the privilege of wearing whatever the hell he wanted by the merit of him being somewhat of a tactical genius. Well others called him as such, he himself just considered himself rather normal.Despite his refusal of wearing the standard gold armor Tal had still been more than willing to join the fray when Mand'alor had called. The Tactician had been reluctant to leave his family, but in the end he was a Mandalorian above all else, this meant that when his Mand'alor called he would come, and so he had. He now stood in place, waiting behind Emberli has the others became organized. To him this was all rather boring, even though he was good at thinking strategically Tal found it rather boring. Especially the organization and movement and gathering of troops. It was an amazing sight of course, to see so many Mandalorians in one place, but again to Tal it was just...dull.Tal was a trickster you see. The tactician hardly took things seriously, most everything was a joke to him. In the rare times that he was serious Tal was a fearsome sight however. Still now was not one of those times, instead he stood behind his leader half asleep watching the masses.

 

[Zurr Vizsla]

The older and much wiser compatriot to Tal was his friend Zurr Vizsla, standing beside him. It had been years since Mandalore had a ruler, or a speech, of this magnitude. It was surprising to see if this new Mandalore was up to the challenge or not... though it seemed to Zurr that he would do his part for now. He nodded to Tal and they began to follow in the mass behind the large crowd. Taking up the rear, Zurr turned to his friend.

"Tal, old buddy, you're looking swell today."

Vizsla elbow-tapped him good on the arm, acting all buddy-buddy. Zurr began to reek of alcohol, giving hint that he had possibly been drinking the jawa juice again.

"Jussssst fine, Tal. Lookin' real fine."

Zurr began to play with his cloak a bit, looking a bit confused in his red & gold armor.

"When...did I...heyyyyy, Talio, Tal-amemo, Tal-a-tonga-ting-tong."

He made eye contact with the tactician again, looking at him in the middle of the crowd, ignoring everyone else.

"You're looking swell, buddy."

 

[Carbon]

Spotting Marshal Nemene behind him as well as a peculiar Zurr, Emberli pauses to turn and give them both a peculiar look from behind his helmet. "Bit too much ne'tra gal, Zurr?", he asks quietly, although his voice is broadcasted quite clearly through his helmet so hearing him was hardly a problem.

His attention shifts to Tal, "Lookin' swell, is right. You'd look better in gold, like all the other Marshal's, Tal.", he chides softly. He could put his foot down if he had too, but right now wasn't really the time for it. The crusades hadn't started yet, and so he wasn't overly concerned about it.

Ultimately, however, Tal wouldn't get much of a choice if he received an order; something he wouldn't get for some time, admittedly. "I believe you've both got jobs to be doing right now. Tal, armor need be dispensed and men organized into some semblance of a military hierarchy. I hate to do that, but we'll need the cohesion for what is to come."

"Zurr, given your current state, I am at a loss for what to do with you."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Tal looked at Zurr for a few seconds behind his own visor, he was about to say something and then stood there instead. He thought and looked at Zurr for just a few more seconds and then finally bit out a sentence. “Just because we had that one night of experimentation doesn't mean you can bring it u-”

The Mandalore spoke to them before Tal could finished. The Mandalorian stood up slightly straighter and listened to his leader. The Tactician nodded slightly at the Mandalores command. He was glad that so far he hadn't needed to paint his armor. Duty and Justice, thats what Blue and gold stood for, thats what he stood for. It was true that some traditions had to be done away with, but this was one he would rather not lose. The colors meant something to him, but of course if asked he would comply, he understood the need for unity. “I'm afraid gold doesnt bring out my eyes quite as well Mandalore.”

Tal quipped to his leader as he scratched the back of his helmet, a childish reflex. When Stalwart gave his order however Tal immediately perked up. He hated doing work it was true, but when one received an order from the Mand'alor one followed it, even slackers and tricksters like himself. He nodded to the Mand'alor and then gave a slight thumbs up to Zurr. Quickly the Marshall then made his way towards the crowd eager to get his task over with.

 

[Zurr Vizsla]

[MENTION=38]Tal Nemene[/MENTION] [MENTION=8]Emberli Garett[/MENTION]

"Jobs we should be doing?" Zurr bubbled, swaying from side to side. "Let me tell you about something you should be doing, boy."

The Mandalorian stepped forward, spitting on the ground and keeping his hands low. As a respected member of the Clans, the guards wouldn't dare raise a hand unless Zurr posed a threat to the innocent. And this self-proclaimed Mandalore wasn't innocent. Far from it.

"The Sith Empire claims our system for their own and you want to give a speech? Perhaps you should go back to nursing your mother and let the men take to the skies." His breath smelled awful. "We need a leader right now, not some boy who put on a mask and wants to play God. We need strength, blood, and durasteel at our backs and you! You want to give a speech."

Zurr walked back towards where he had been drunkenly leaning on the wall next to Tal.

"Jobs we should be doing..." Zurr motioned to Tal, then back to the Mandalore with his hand. "Ha! Am I right, Talatingtong?"

 

[Carbon]

"Do you want the people rallied to kick the Sith out, or not? Because all I'm hearing right now is the ramblings of a drunkard. The only reason we're in this position is because we haven't the strength to push the Sith out right now - hence why, since becoming Mand'alor, I've been preparing us for this day.", he states flatly in a voice that was calm and measured. Zurr hadn't gotten to him, and no should he have.

"You're right to be angry - speeches aren't what we need. But I'm fully aware that sometimes they're necessary." Adjusting the cloaks hanging from his pauldrons, the man inclined his head to concede to Zurr. "I am young, of this I am aware. That's why I need people like you, Zurr. People with experience; the ones with the drive to see us back to our rightful place in this galaxy."

"You want the Sith gone, Zurr? Then stop arguing and start doing. Get the men armed and ready, prepare the fleets. The moment we're prepared... we take back our planets. Your heart is in the right place but your brain is not."

Giving a slow exhale, he looked to Tal who was, unlike Zurr, simply not questioning him. Both those who questioned and those who did not had their places at his side, for it was the place of those who followed to inquire of their leader, to keep him honest. Secretly, he thanked Zurr for having a spine, although he'd not voice that now - wasn't the time nor the place.

"So, yes. Jobs to be doing. The biggest of which is removing those Force-tainted devils from our land."

 

[Soliath Devin Talith]

Tal talked to the gathered men and distributed armor.