Stronger Together

[Cato Fett]

“Cato,” He said, taking a spot between the balcony rail and the doorway threshold, glancing across the open desert flats and the arroyo-like divots marking the prolonged race-course. The gladiator corpses had been piled and carted off the starting line and juvenile-slaves were in the midst of sweeping the last of blood-clotted earth aside. Bright chrome-sided speeders were being marshalled into track positions. Cato looked back to their small box seats, turning from visor to visor. “Just a bounty killer.”

After a beat, he said. “…I was present when Monroe made her pitch at Keldabe and the old guards crawled out to arrest her. And when Ra called for a moot under the Blackgate at Sundari to declare the new way of things. Took a bullet for a Mia, was ignored when I put a question to Vizsla about our futures. Now, that dung-eater sounds vanished and his offal ‘wolves’ now hold council over the ‘Empire’. It’s repeating again; our soul is dissolving in favour of a generation of thugs and butchers. I’m told I’ve a Mand’alor I’m obliged to obey. I will not. …I suspect none of you ever will either.”

[member="Connory"] | [member="Kade Kol-Rekali"] | [member="Alaric"] | [member="Davin Skirata"] | [member="Zeke Farthen"] | [member="Talia Fett"] | [member="Mereel Vaun"] | [member="Daral Tal'Verda"]

 

[Talia]

Both names rang bells for Talia. The first had been someone of particular interest in recent months. His bounty against two of the Empire 'finest' and a call for help to find Monroe's child had been something she'd kept a close eye on. She'd seen the child in Mornore's embrace when the woman had called them to arms, but never again after that. She wondered if he'd found the infant...wondered whether hearing someone had laid eyes on it other than him was any sort of comfort. Probably not.

The second one, made her draw in a sharp breath, eyes widening. The name took her back a couple of decades, to a time when a couple of kids scrapped in the dust testing each others skill before their verd'gotten. She'd never thought to see Yuna'sif or her son again. A smile spread across her face and she looked down at her feet for a moment. She had family somewhere still after all.

"Just a bounty killer, eh? Don't think our careers matter at this point." she said with a amile and inclined her head. "Talia."

Maybe he'd remember too.

"I don't think it matters who sent the message. We can sit here and question it, work up our suspicions and start seeing enemies in every face. Or we can simply accept that the manda has brought us together." she shrugged "Ra and his pups can go feth themselves as far as I'm concerned. Along with everyone else who wears Empire colours. We're not many, but we're enough to be a sore in their side, if you're all willing?"

[member="Cato Fett"] [member="Mereel Vaun"] [member="Kade Kol-Rekali"] [member="Davin Skirata"] [member="Zeke Farthen"] [member="Connory"] [member="Daral Tal'Verda"] [member="Alaric"]

 

[Mereel Vaun]

As he neared Box 43, he saw a spattered blood stain on the ground with a slave minder's stun prod laying close by. It was a good indicator that he had come to the right place. He approached a curtain that offered the P's being VI privacy while in the box, and his hand slipped to his blaster pistol at his side.

Dealing with his own people was always dangerous business, and it wasn't even solely because of his force sensitivity. In his youth, Mereel had fought in RC212's Death Watch, and had again fought alongside Death Watch under Jaig Viszla against the Dominion. He often thought of what might have happened if he hadn't been involved. If he had been charging against the Mandalorians raising the Guardian World Shield instead of being a part of the strike force that had activated it.

I can't change it, but if something forms from this, it could be a small penance.

He pulled the curtain aside and entered the box. It was crawling with mando'ade. He took little relief in the fact that his armor bore no clan markings, and his right hand held tight to the DL-18 at his hip. He looked around the room, nothing stood out to him among the many armored plates, until he saw a familiar figure engaged in conversation with another mando between where he had entered and the balcony railing.

He removed his grip from the pistol but kept his hand close to the blaster as he approached a Mandalorian ([member="Cato Fett"]) wearing drab olive-green armor. "Su'cuy ner vod. I didn't think I'd see you again so soon."

[member="Talia Fett"] | [member="Kade Kol-Rekali"] | [member="Davin Skirata"] | [member="Zeke Farthen"] | [member="Connory"] | [member="Daral Tal'Verda"] | [member="Alaric"]​

 

[Cato Fett]

“You weathered Takodana. Good,” Cato said, bowing his helm forward to Mereel. “And you’re here now. Just as good.

“…Is it just ourselves then?” He asked round the box, volume raising. The race line was finishing with pre-flight checks. A mass of engine noise sounding up through the arena amphitheatre along with the crowd roar. The reverb shook dust free from balcony crevices, rattling up into the stone. The quiet amongst them answered almost damningly. Cato’s hand, a prosthetic, flexed as he thought and walked to stand by the box rail. Tatooine’s infinite, heat-smeared horizon glared back, awash with sand and fire.

“Just us,” Cato said. “Fine. We’ve few resources. The Watch has either recruited or intimidated everyone else into line. Not many are gonna want to mangle their teeth on the Empire’s hide. Unless there’s powers out there with the interests threatened by the regime. We’re at base zero.” He grinned behind his visor. “No better place to start a resistance.”

[member="Connory"] | [member="Kade Kol-Rekali"] | [member="Talia Fett"] | [member="Mereel Vaun"] | [member="Alaric"] | [member="Davin Skirata"] | [member="Zeke Farthen"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Alaric nodded, listening. The thump seemed antiquated for how the others acted, so he was sitting back and taking it in. Who knew what faction or politics his mentor had been a part of. Unfortunately the man had been killed before he had been able to really induct his protege fully, and self-learning was a bit of a disaster. Never the less, he let his visored gaze study everyone, careful not to linger. And then, his attention turned to [member="Cato Fett"], and he smiled under his helm, a bass rumble echoing through his modulator on his helmet.

"To be fair, you are right about the best place, but wrong about how strapped we are. Didn't one of your Ancestors say our people were an idea, and you can't kill that? We just need to make enough noise to wake up a few more. Ripples in the pond like..."

And then, he was silent again, watching. Also nervous as hell.

[member="Mereel Vaun"] | [member="Talia Fett"] | [member="Kade Kol-Rekali"] | [member="Davin Skirata"] | [member="Zeke Farthen"] | [member="Cato Fett"]

 

[Funky Balor]

@Alaric@Cato Fett [member="Talia Fett"] [member="Mereel Vaun"] [member="Daral Tal'Verda"] @Connory @Kade Kol-Rekali [member="Zeke Farthen"] [member="Ordo"]




Kitonak, during the war between the galactic empire and the rebel alliance, near the time of the battle of Yavin, were known as spies and manipulators, rumored to have ears in every place and eyes across the galaxy. The truth of it was far more simple. Kitonak were neither fast nor mighty, so instead, they endured, and watched, and listened for opportunities. While Funky was a proud Mandalorian, he was also a Kitonak tribesman, and like most, could remain silent, and instead of being stealthy, would be unnoticed simply by virtue of already having been in a the room, and looking like an unassuming alien in robes. He had a small pack on his back, and a staff that looked like a tree branch covered in Beskar. He looked at the others as they entered. Some were older, some were younger. He knew none of them. Different clans, and names and duties.


He missed his cousins. He missed drinking mead and forging iron, and telling stories. He sipped from his glass as the others talked about who, and why, and how. He had a guess.Some one was likely wishing to be the new Mandalore. He considered this. It was a heavy burden. He smiled, his teeth flashing briefly as he cleared his throat. "If this were an ambush, surely someone would have come to start throwing blows already," he said out loud, deciding to draw a little attention to himself. "Whomever called us here wishes to know who is loyal to Ra, and who is not. By coming, we've cast our lot, then."


He stood up slowly, thumping his staff on the ground, making a clear noise of besakr on stone. "Dayn be ne'waadas, nau'ur kad kot," he said, in a light, almost sing-song voice. Out of want, forge strength. " Ni cuy' Funky, goran bal pakalat," smith and fast-talker, he said with a slight laugh. "I also sing. If we are to fight, let it not be for glory, though. Fighting one's own vod is not glory. It is....akaanir par te runi," a battle for the soul. "This matters. If we are to stand against Manda'lor, we must stand against him for the sake of our people. Our family. Not another petty squabble between feuding rulers," he said softly, sipping more of his drink--which given the smell, was probably a mix of ethanol and local herbs. Thank god for large body masses. He appraised the room, seeing how they'd take to that answer.