There was the murdered corpse, in covert laid,
And violent death in thousand shapes displayed;
The city to the soldier's rage resigned;
Successless wars, and poverty behind;
Ships burnt in fight, or forced on rocky shores,
And the rash hunter strangled by the boars;
The newborn babe by nurses overlaid;
And the cook caught within the raging fire he made.
- Geoffrey aliit alor Chaucer
After the Battle of Myrkr - Oyu'baat Tapcafe, Mandalore
Kaine sat in a corner table, along with senior vode from Clan Australis, and a mix from some of the other Clans, almost all of whom had been onworld or in space during the recent Galactic Alliance assault on the Australis homeworld. They'd been drinking, and had toasted many of their fallen comrades, not gone, merely marching far away. Now they were on to the arguing, as Mando'ade settled their differences, mostly. There was no rank in this sort of discussion, mando'ade spoke their minds.
The current issue was between Kaine and an infantry Major named Jacurutu. Both men shouted back and forth at each other, showing no signs of running out of steam.
A thick bodied, no nonsense soldier, he was angry at the loss of so many of his mando'ade in a dishonourable orbital strike, and was out for blood. Kaine understood where he was coming from, but they differed on the appropriate course of action. Jac'ika, and his associates, wanted to burn Coruscant to bedrock. Kaine, well, he took issue with that idea for several reasons, upon which both men had argued at length.
Kaine, finally, upon Jacurutu stating that he was going to visit Coruscant personally, stood up. The major was half a step behind him, and they glared at each other. Kaine's voice began icy.
We are going to strike back. On that you have my word.
Jac made to speak but Kaine cut him off with a raised hand.
My word as aliit alor of Clan Australis, we will have blood for blood.
At the smiles and oyas, Kaine smiled, looking around the table.
Now it was time to lay it out.
We are going to take it out on their army. We are going to take it out on their navy. Their support personnel. Their militias. And, most certainly their leaders.
We strike clean, we strike surgically, and we DO NOT HIT CIVILIAN TARGETS.
DO I MAKE MYSELF ABSOLUTELY, CRYSTAL CLEAR?
Kaine's voice had risen to command tone, and he pounded the table with a fist for emphasis, locking eyes with anyone that wished to challenge his word and his choice of direction.
Anyone that looked in his eyes would see the fight they were going to get if they wanted to push this further with Kaine. Not the General, no rank here. This was one man's opinion among many.
Jac, when he spoke, was subdued.
They have not hesitated to hit our civilians.
Kaine didn't relent an inch.
We can do better. We are better. We are Mando'ade.
Jac looked around at his men, and they nodded.
We're with you.
Let's kriff the chakaare up.
A chorus of oyas drowned out the last word. Kaine grabbed up his mug of ale and smashed it together with Jacurutu's and the others that leapt to their feet to join the toast.
And so, the rash hunters, their ships smashed on Myrkr shores, would feel the wrath.
The wrath of the boars.
[member="Rex Taff"] [member="Kei Raxis"] [member="Skosk Fett"] [member="Raiz Australis"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Yasha Mantis"]