The Broken Road (open to ME & House Dib)

[Muad Dib]

The lambda class shuttle dropped from hyperspace. No insignia was painted on it's hull and the transponder echoed out a single beacon that said it was registered to a one, Muad Dib. Scans would report weapon systems were offline and only a single occupant was within. Shields were up as it eased into orbit, scanning the terrain below. When the location was found the shuttle began descending. Turbulence rocked the ship lightly as it cut through the atmosphere.

This side of the planet was engulfed in darkness. The shuttle dropped silently through cloud cover until finally breaching the floor of layers of cloud. Through the view port glowing blue eyes lit upon the coliseum standing on the surface like an ancient sentry. Lips pressed together as he turned the ship for landing near where the coliseum stood in stark defiance to the attempts of destruction that nature and events had cast upon it.

The landing struts extended and the shuttle settled upon the sands, the weight of the ship burying the struts. Going through the shutdown he flipped the switch and extended the ramp before moving to the hold and unstrapping the hover sled. With the sled following on repulsors the Mad Master walked from the ship headed for the monolithic walls of the coliseum.

The ruddy hued sand infringed upon the footprint of the massive architecture, threatening to consume and devour the millennia old establishment with false attempt. The ebony walls glistened from eons of sandstorms weathering the exterior to a high polish, yet the coliseum silently stood defiant to nature's attempt to eradicate it. A smile flickered upon Muad's face at the parallel between the coliseum and the spirit of the Mando'ade. Stubbornly resisting the best attempts to erase it.

Reaching the north gates he paused as he stared at stone doors, large enough to welcome a full grown krayt dragon, and waited. A red light flashed from a few of the carven figures of Mandalorians past as it scanned him and his cargo. With a creaking rumble the doors parted inwards to allow passage within. As he entered he gave a slight nod to figures lining either side of the entrance. Members of House Dib, of Clan Farr, custodians of their home on Manda'yaim.

Though the galactic events that had shaken, not just the Mando'ade but the known galaxy, had left it's mark on all who lived within it's time, the aliit of Muad Dib stood strong and silent.

"The coliseum is ready."

It was a statement rather then a question. The vode nodded in silence. And so the doors closed and Muad led the way to the sands with sled and clansmen in tow.

 

[Muad Dib]

A somber mood lay heavy upon Clan Farr. The weight of loss was felt by one and all. Being a Dib, whether by blood or adoption, and a member of Clan Farr held with it certain expectations. A long and fruitful life was rarely one of them. But no matter what, the clansmen would rally to one another. They we're kin and would lay their lives down for one another if that ultimate price was demanded. Though rarely was that cost evident.

As the procession passed through the tunnels burrowed beneath the coliseum, Muad paused and went to the weapons locker where many items were laid out from his travels. Walking between the display cases he passed ancient weapons of Mandalorians, Sith, Jedi, and other warrior cultures. Near the back he paused and looked upon a great sword that hung from it's sheath. A low thrum of power waved out at the imbued presence of the weapon.

A Sith Sentinel had carried the weapon, a general in the ranks of the Jedi Order nearly two millennia before. The chiss man had forged himself a sword in the tradition of the Je'daii of Tython, infusing it with the lightside of the Force. And despite it's great size the chiss favored Form II, dancing among his enemies with the blade as light as a feather in his hands. But through his love for combat he fell and abandoned the Jedi and their philosophies. And as he turned to the darkside so, too, did the blade. The blue shimmer of the blade was fractured with crimson traces. A duality of blade matching it's master.

A suitable weapon for a Dib.

He collected the weapon, cradling it gently to his chest, and rejoined the others to take his place at the fore of the procession.

Meanwhile outside a few more shuttles arrived. House Dib of Clan Farr remembered, as their words stated. We Remember. And so with every new arrival the great doors would open, an honor guard of Beskar'gam clad mando'ade lining either side.

 

[Zesiro]

She was of the Dib Clan and while there had been very little the woman had done, Muad had offered and given her a family here. She had fought the Mandalorians before and lost her fight. That fight had landed her facing off against the Confederacy, but that had led her into the lap of her buir. All told, Zesiro was happy with where her life had taken her.

Now was not the time to muse on the past of herself but to focus on what was in front of her.

The woman had not met many members of the clan, but now that opportunity was given to her. She was lined up to observe the ceremony and honour the passing of family. She wore no armour and probably stood out like a sore thumb, but her presence here was something she felt was needed.

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Beth was not of Clan Dib. But, she knew of them. She knew of Ginnie and the kids. She had even helped the nanny some with the kids when they were babies, right after Rhaegar was killed. Beth remembered when she found out what had happened through Yasha. The sadness but also the worse feeling of betrayal.

She knew of [member="Muad Dib"] only through her father, [member="kaine Australis"] and [member="Yasha Cadera"]. Nonetheless, when she found out about the event that would take place… She felt as though she needed to come. Wearing her beskar’gam, the woman landed the vigilant envoy at a walking distance to the coliseum. She took a breath as she looked back at her ship and up at the night-time clouds. It was almost as if she could feel the loss in the air.

She sighed as she thought about the twins. They were growing up. No one deserved to not have their father. But, at least the kids have Ginnie. And a huge, extended ‘family’ that would love them and help them at a moments notice.

Beth walked towards the entrance of the coliseum before she stopped as she gazed over the crumbling building. A recent adventure into ruins on another planet with Abby had ignited an unknown interest in the people of history. She couldn’t help but wonder who it was who built this. They had families, friends, and Gods know what else. What had happened to them? Perhaps they were them.

With a sigh, the great doors opened and Beth entered – somber, respectful, and with remembrance.

 

[Ginnie Dib]

Her bottle clinked and rolled along the floor. It clang, clang, clanged down the stairs until it rustled out of Gwyndolyne ‘Ginnie’ Dib’s ears. Ears… shaking fingers reached to both sides of her head, feeling the flesh of twin auricles, conchas, scapha and helixes. Once Rhaegar returned her from unrighteous death, in a body of Mother Manda’yaim’s design Ginnie memorized each anatomical part of her own ears. She tapped at the sides of her neck, skull, sit in a machine fabrication warehouse just to hear the noise. Take a glass of tihaar on the porch overlooking Sundari City’s bustle far below.

Noise. The music of Rhaegar’s voice was the first sound Ginnie properly heard since her mother’s dying screams. Around her in the dim half-light, pieces of Rhaegar’s incomplete armour laid scattered and burned. Ginnie listened to the shake of her own voice. The stutter of lungs, which ached.

Rhaegar. The man, who took curious of her in battle, and fractured his own soul to save her from death, was dead himself… and Ginnie did not possess the power of her husband, father of [member="Rhaegar Dib II"] and Amaa Gwyn Dib. She was no warlock capable of a victorious and merciful resurrection.

Her lungs quickened. Ginnie’s hands dropped to her knees. A woman, who spent most of her life deaf to the worlds round her, began to scream.

The room turned into an inferno, as flames emanated from the recent widow and scorched all which remained to utter cinder and ash and coal.

Ginnie screamed. Another bought of flame. Guttural as a dying krayt dragon, Ginnie’s heart and mind shattered under the realization that her own brother [member="Alkor Centaris"] killed his sister’s husband… and Ginnie was too early after giving birth to twins to save him.

“Tamar, get the kids! Get them out!! Tuulu!” A booming, but familiar voice.

“Yes, with you.” Tuulu replied to [member="Yasha Cadera"], Mand’alor the Infernal as she walked without pause through the flames. Tuulu paced beside her, a personal shield and fire suppression to cover his Mand’alor.

Yasha walked on, until she knelt beside the stricken, grieving being curled in the middle of incomplete armour in the home she once shared in abject love. Sinking to her knees, the massive Epicanthix wrapped her arms around the writhing woman… her first and oldest friend.

“I’m not leaving you here, Ginnie.” Temp controls in her beskar’kandar made suffering the inferno possible for a time. Yasha held Ginnie firmly to her, and with a shudder the screams of flame broke into unabashed sobs. “You can control this, Gin’ika. I know you, you’re the strongest woman I’ve ever met.”

“Yasha, we have the children. They look okay.” Tamar sounded through Yasha’s helm, and the Infernal merely nodded.

“Come, Gin’ika. Come, you need to be somewhere else. Get up. One foot, then the other.” Ginnie looked up into Yasha’s ruby helm-eyes, the flames around her decreasing down to flickers. Slowly, ever slowly Tuulu handed Yasha her voidstone necklace, and the flames retreated entirely.

“I was done… one more piece, and I was done… I was done… I was done… One more piece… it needed to be perfect… the twins… they… they came too quick. I was done. Rhae, I was done.” Ginnie continued to mumble and sob uncontrollably as Yasha picked her up and carried her out of the scorched home, the garden of black ash. The words did not cease as Yasha and Tamar bathed and dressed Ginnie in her beskar’gam. Braided her natural curls away from her face.

The young woman, who was present before [member="Muad Dib"] was a half-self of the firecracker he knew. Skin ashen and lips chapped, she looked upon him as one, who gazed at the world through dark glass, and saw nothing but shadows on the other side.

Ginnie stood silent and barely rocking, and looked up into Muad’s eyes.

[member="Zesiro"] [member="Beth Cadera"]

 

[Muad Dib]

As he rejoined his brethren he paused. Several others had come in attendance. Zes'ika stood there, her blonde hair alight in the hall. His daughter had come. He gave her a small smile, heartened she had come even under the current circumstances. Zes'ika, and her sister Any'ika, were his daughters. Not by blood but through spirit and choice. He cherished her.

His eyes flickered around seeing Beth. While he was not well acquainted with the young woman he knew she was an Australis, daughter of [member="Kaine Australis"] his akaan vod. The memory of their initial meeting caused him to smile a bit wider before the current situation settled once more upon his shoulders. He offered the woman a nod before turning to the newest arrival.

Little Ginnie.

A youth in pink beskar'gam danced across his vision. A girl not yet in her teens with an infectious smile despite limitations that had pulled many a grown man into the depths of depression. Another image flickered in his mind. A dinner with the Verd Clan, a grown woman in feminine embrace, fiery spirit making manifest through a little Force creation. Once again his mind flashed forward. At the beach with his brother Derek. The two siblings visiting their uncle, a pregnant Ginnie in attendance. A woman in the throes of vitality.

Not the same woman who stood before him now.

He felt her pain, rage, and loss. For it reverberated within him. He reached out with his left hand to lightly cup the side of her face. Fevered flesh touched inflamed hand. The Force flooded through him as he bastardized tutaminis and empathy. An image of Rhaegar came to his mind. Standing atop a pinnacle of an ancient temple as he watched the sunrise. The soft watercolours as the backdrop while the first rays lit upon his features. A small smile touched the cold face. The breeze ruffled through his hair and fluttered his dapper suit jacket. It was the scene of the Dib reunion before they returned to Mandalorian space and he found out he was to be a father. That morning Rhaegar shared a feeling with Muad. A miraculous beginning.

As he shared the memory of Rhaegar he drew upon the negative emotion that stirred within Ginnie. Emotion was powerful, able to fuel the Force, to fuel power. Even in a non sensitive emotion was able to lend strength, speed, and endurance above and beyond what was typically possible. And it was on this primal power that Muad pulled on, trying to pull the absolute agony and despair away in an attempt to lessen the sound crushing loss.

A snarling smile crossed his face, an unspoken promise. Despite the law that strictly forbade Force use on Manda'yaim, he let it flow through him. He would use the siphoned energy to combine with his own in an external display that would come later, a display that would be obvious to all that he had broken the law.

"He may have passed from this mortal world, but he isn't gone. I promise you, he isn't gone."

Releasing his touch upon Ginnie he let the way into the arena beneath the open sky. Around the edges of the sand coliseum were raised dais where stone figures were carved in great detail. Ahead an obsidian platform waited devoid of artistic rendering. It was there where Muad lead.

[member="Zesiro"] I [member="Beth Cadera"] I [member="Ginnie Dib"]

 

[Zesiro]

Her buir might notice a change in Zesiro. Zesiro now carried herself with a touch of regalness that had never been present in all their previous meetings. Time had passed and she had grown into her position of High Lady. There were other changes with her, but those revelations would have to wait. They were here to remember the life of somebody she had never met.

Since she had never met Rhaegar, she had nothing to give or share about him. Just her presence should provide the support she needed to show.

Watching Muad as he approached and spoke to another person she did not know, that is all she did. The small smile he had given her moments before was enough for her to know he had noticed her. Staying in her chosen spot, for the moment the blond was lost on what exactly she was supposed to be doing.

Nobody had approached her. Other than Muad, nobody had seemed to notice her either. In a way that was good with her and it allowed her to observe everything around her. It was also bad because this meant she couldn't get to know her adopted family.

[member="Muad Dib"] [member="Ginnie Dib"] [member="Beth Cadera"]

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Beth gave a nod in return to the man, [member="Muad Dib"]. She gave the smallest smile, smile of concern. Of grief. The galaxy was merciless and justice was never given. Beth was lucky in her own life – she had thought she was orphaned. Abandoned. But, then Kaine found her on that fateful day. And things changed.

But, luck wasn’t there for [member="Ginnie Dib"] or Rheagar. Rhea would be raised without a father but he would have a loving, supportive family beside him. At least he had that. It wasn’t ideal but it was the best anyone could offer. In the side of her eye, she did notice @Zesiro. She wondered how she was knew of the man they were mourning.

Beth made sure to end up beside Zesiro. “It is hard… I hope you’re okay?” she asked with a friendly but concerned smile. Loss could be hard and in truth, she did not know how connected Zesiro was to Rheagar or Muad.

Her attention, though, would be on Muad Dib. Did… Did he just use the Force? She took a deep breath and held it in as she watched the energy swirl and combine. Beth exhaled after she processed what he had done. She could only hope none would find out about his use. She sure wasn’t going to say anything to anyone. She understood the need, the symbolism, and the desire for it. It was in hard moments that sometimes the Force was needed, despite whatever laws and values were in place.

She heard his words to Ginnie and her own eyes teared slightly. The emotional charge was high, hurting, and filled with pain... Remembrance. Then, they began to walk further into the sand coliseum. In the center, a platform. There was no art or carvings, unlike the other areas. Beth quietly followed.

 

[Ginnie Dib]

Ash clung to her hair, as much as Yasha and Tamar brushed and braided it back. While her armour was clean, it sat ill on her shoulders. When [member="Muad Dib"]’s hand cupped her cheek, Ginnie tilted her head to better feel the touch. Any touch as hot and distempered as hers. She reached to take his lower arm in her hand, needing the connection, craving some form of family that wouldn’t betray or murder or leave her.

One single connection would do. She needed one. Who would have thought the madman of House Dib was that rock upon which all else was built? His touch craned deeper, into and through the Kiffar widow.

“Rhae…” Ginnie hiccupped, “Rhaegar.”

A gasping sob. The hold on Muad’s hand increased in temperature, until fabric would char and metal redden. Flickers of flame spread around Ginnie like a cloak against all seasons. The ground began to combust. Ginnie’s emotions were a dangerous concoction, tied to her pyromancy in the way an artist’s hand was bound to their brush. Agony coated each flame, yanked from her by Muad’s siphon until the flames halted into curls of grey smoke, incense of Manda’yaim for her Rhaegar. Her love.

The grief became a person in the room, instead of an overwhelming hurricane. A figure which should by rights have held her and instead whispered of loss. Of hours holding the twins. Of walking missed and words unheard.

Waves and waves of it. Agony without ceasing, for a soul once fractured and reknit broke once more. A piece missing. Muad’s pull relaxed the tumult, until Ginnie hugged his arm instead of clenching it.

“Why… why won’t Manda give him back?” Ginnie spoke between hastily procured breaths. “I can hear it, I can hear it… Manda gave me back. Why won’t Manda give me him?”

Family was made to desert you.

Another aspect of the Infernal. [member="Yasha Cadera"] cradled a crying infant to her chest and rocked back and forth at the back of the procession. Little Amaa struggled in sobs, the infant aware only of bad things in the current of her life the past few days. Of fire, scorching pain and less cuddles from her mother. Less feeds. Where was her mother? This body was warm, it held her like her mother… little Amaa nuzzled in, her sobs stuttering to an end. Yasha hid the bacta patches applied to Amaa’s burnt skin with a loose swaddling.

Ginnie longed to hold her son, to coo and tell him his father was coming, eventually, to see him grow. She walked alone behind Muad, everyone else a shadow, and felt the rebuke of her infant daughter’s cry.

[member="Beth Cadera"] [member="Zesiro"]

 

[Muad Dib]

The question that rested on [member="Ginnie Dib"] and had departed from her lips exhoed within his own being. "Why? his eyes closed as he stood before the empty platform before him. Those that lose a loved one always asked why. Especially when the loss was cut down early. The answer differed person to person and scenario to scenario, yet in the end all that was typically answered was some version of, "because". Voidless responses that left all bereft of peace and clinging to the facade of hope that everything happens for a reason, designed by a higher power.

It was laughably naive.

The hover sled slid next to him, as he turned to look at the group who had joined him. [member="Zesiro"] standing in respectful silence. His daughter showed her strength and resolve by coming and lending her spirit to those heartbroken despite not knowing Rhaegar personally. Her quiet attendance bolstered his own determination to do what he felt needed to be done.

Beside her stood [member="Beth Cadera"] and he gave her a nod. That she would attend was a testament to her belief to stand by the Mando'ade, in joy and loss.

Eyes moved over the crowd as he drank in the sight of the vode. United in cause on and off the battlefield, joined together as one, it was the reason the Mandalorians Would never be erased or eradicated from existence.

Beside him four members of House Dib opened the sled and reached in. Slowly, respectfully, they raised the body of Rhaegar Dib from his cradle. The flesh had been mended and a new black suit of armor weave adorned his body. With methodical, precise movements the armor clad mandos climbed the dais and carefully arranged him into a standing position, a repulsor field holding him upright as if the man was standing under his own strength serenely.

The mandos that had raised him into position left the dais and melted back into the ranks as Muad turned to look at Ginnie. A sad smile etched itself on the marble features of his face.

"He broke every rule of the Force and the Manda when he brought you back. And lifetimes of forcing his will upon reality have created a debt too deep for him to pay. He can't cross over. Not again. And so he will never return to us as we knew him. Yet death is never the end that many believe, but a new beginning. Everything changes with the sands of time, but sometimes, sometimes, we can alter the course and permanency of things."

He spoke in riddles. He knew that. But life was a riddle and so was death. And sometimes the answer isn't what we think it is, but upon revelation the answer is understood.

He turned and handed the great sword to Talia who held it reverently as Muad pulled the tan tunic over his head and let it drop. Scars of battles had marked his flesh as testament to war and surviving. Glowing blue eyes found the Manda'lor who stood holding little Amaa near the back and he gazed at the Infernal asking neither permission nor forgiveness for what he was about to do. Eyes trailed down to the child held against her chest. She was the future of the Clan, as was her twin Rhae. As was Zes'ika and Any'ika, and William. One day they would stand to be counted as the leaders of their people and the old would pass away as shifted sand.

A twitch of his lips as he turned away and reclaimed the great sword to climb the steps of the dais to stand in front of the body of his uncle. Plunging down he drove the sword into the dais before reaching out and placing his hands upon his uncle's and brought them to the pommel of the sword.

Derek had found Rhaegar on the battlefield and took him to his ship. There he cleansed the body with his own hand and healed the torn flesh before placing his uncle in a stasis field. The body was pristine, healed and no trace of the ravages of battle or decomposing. He appeared to be serenely in slumber.

A moment of indecision lay upon him. Not about the law, but about his own limitations. He had pushed himself almost to the precipice once before for [member="Anya Malvern"] , and now with a grim set to his jaw, he would do so again.

He let down the barriers and felt the raw power of the Force. Drawing on his own emotions, and bolstered by the tumultuous emotions of those gathered, he continued to pull the Force to himself. The energy flooded into him creating a static charge in the air, the palpable electrical surge enveloping them all.

His eyes opened, the blue of his eyes draining away and melting to a pitch black that matched the obsidian of the dais. The cobalt blue Sith runes that ran from elbow to knuckles of his left hand flickered and turned black. Lips moved without utterance as he weaved the power through force of will. A gnawing hunger within him awoke as the shift in power ignored the disease of the specialized rakghoul virus that lay dormant within him, kept in recession by the Force.

Hands shook lightly as he focused his power and vitality through him into the body of Rhaegar. He could not bring back his uncle from death, it was a skill he had never learned. Yet he sought to make the body a beacon, a Nexus of power that would echo in the Force.

As he poured power from him into the body, Muad felt weakness sway him side to side. An unbearable weariness threatened to detach the flow of power, yet his stubbornness held him upright.

The power of the transmutation became evident as blue flames writhed around Muad's body and red flame danced around Rhaegar's. Slowly the obsidian from the dais crept upwards enveloping Rhaegar's form. The great sword began to glow before emitting it's own gentle flames as the whirlwind of the Force swirled about the two at the center.

Scars upon Muad's body began to weep a black ichor as the virus within sought to spread in the absence of resistance.

Even so, Muad flooded the now encased form of his uncle with power until a gentle thrum could be felt in the air as the, now, statue of the man became a Nexus. With a final surge of power Muad released the sword and staggered backwards down the stairs to drop to a knee on the lowest step. A silent snarl etched upon his face as he his breath came in ragged gasps.

The whirlwind of multihued flames that danced around the statue suddenly flew into the statue as if inhaled, the eyelids of the statue opened and flame dancing within the sockets as the process was completed.

The body of Rhaegar Nemesis Dib was now encased in solid obsidian stone, infused with the Force. Tongues of flame flickered from the great sword held akin to the man's famous cane and a fire danced in his eyes. A presence pulsed out like a heartbeat fro. The immobile stone relic as the gift was finished.

Several clansmen rushed forward and lifted Muad gently in their embrace, taking care not to touch the weeping wounds of sickly ichor. A weakly defiant gaze was turned to the Infernal for a moment before he looked to Ginnie Dib.

"My gift to you ner runi."

His words echoed strangely with an undertone of power that was not his own.

A shadow detached from Muad and walked closer to the base of the dais, the limping gait familiar, as with every step closer to the statue the apparition became more solidified. The flickering image of a tall, lean man turned and cast a crimson hued gaze upon Ginnie as his proximity to the Nexus focused the presence of the Force ghost manifestation.

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Beth gave a nod to the woman beside her as she returned her focus back to [member="Ginnie Dib"]. Her heart hurt for her. She held her hands against her heart as she watched Yasha and Tamar brush her hair back and Muad’s cup of her cheek. Beth inhaled as she tried to hold back her own tears. The galaxy was a cruel place...

There was no real why, was there? The fate of their lives were interwoven in a dramatic, harsh reality. All they had was each other – but how could you trust each other if those closest to you betrayed you? Ginnie knew that. Beth knew that in her own way. An unknown mother who left or gave her away to some Trandoshan. She exhaled as she stared in front of the sled. Rhaegar’s body lay. Nearly perfect. Just a restful sleep…

Of course, when [member="Muad Dib"] used the Force himself… He was breaking a rule. Not the Force rule, but a very important rule that could easily result in his arrest. She glanced back to [member="Yasha Cadera"]. Oh no… The last person who used the Force on Mandalore… Was her own father, [member="Kaine Australis"]. She closed her eyes as she remembered the first time she saw him after the cure was administered. Empty. Hollow… Almost as if he was gone. She learned to adjust, but unlike Yasha who she was used to, the sudden removal of him from the Force was a shock to Beth. Perhaps that was mostly just because Beth was so connected to the Force to begin with.

The power that emitted from Muad was powerful, intense, and… Dark. Beth prepared herself as she watched the scene unfold before him. She crossed her arms as she watched with concern for not only Muad, but Ginnie. Goddess, what was he performing…?

Beth gasped as she blinked and – suddenly, the body of Rhaegar was turned to obsidian but… The Force flew about from the statue. A nexus, perhaps, had been created. She could feel it so strongly, so intensely… She took a moment to breath as her eyes watered and small tears dropped down her cheeks. She decided to do her best to get closer. What was the… Darkness, that leaked from Muad? She stopped as she watched what looked like a shadow, flicker, and walk towards Ginnie.

One more glance towards Yasha. She would uphold the law. She glanced back towards Muad. Ugh.

 

[Ginnie Dib]

Her husband’s body carefully arranged brought another turbulent wave to Ginnie’s grief. Shoulders curled inward, spine rounding as she clutched at her own arms to keep from falling to the ground in front of so many. Ragged sobs broke her down, even as Muad took more and more of her agony upon himself.

Breath came out in hyperventilated bursts. She staggered forward for one more look, one more. Another. Ginnie wanted to scream at her fellow vode. Don’t take him, stop moving him, wake up.

[member="Muad Dib"] spoke the hideous truth. In his life Rhaegar Dib made nemesis of many, and flippant regard to the laws of the Universe. He shilled his own soul into two fragments on a whim to bring Ginnie back from the dead, back with help from Manda’yaim.

The Great Mother.

Manda’yaim herself gave the material necessary for Ginnie’s new body. Manda, that glorious collective consciousness which succoured her after death and allowed Rhaegar’s soul-fragment entry let the wrongfully dead young woman go. But for Rhaegar there was no such offering. There would be no such prize. He received the rewards for his actions, and although the man she knew was changed from the Nemesis who plagued southern systems, Ginnie knew in her soul there was only one way to see her beloved again.

Yet, two babies cried in the wings, held by Yasha and Tamar. If Ginnie gave up now, Rhaegar would be utterly disgusted. The wound ripped into her from her Force Bonded riduur’s missing soul-fragment tore at her ribcage with barbaric and guttural sobs. Muad’s power expelled into the dais, creating that which many Mandalorians looked upon as heresy and horror upon the very belly of Manda’yaim.

Muad acted, his powers surging beyond any expression Ginnie knew. A pure and unadulterated offering to Manda’yaim, from her lost son and grieving children. A fissure to speak with the dead. A quiver in the air. The form of a man once folded round her in pillow talk and calm seasons.

“Rhae!” Ginnie’s boots tore at the ground, first toward Muad, until she was prevented from nearing him by the Clansmen present. Her eyes lost some of their dullness, red and puffy as they were. Arms which clawed at her own stomach to hold her husband veered through the mirage of his Ghost. Contact only with the obsidian statue, would have to be enough. She tried to bury her head, to feel him as he felt mere weeks, days before…

… as the boots of the Infernal stomped toward the perpetrator of this touching, but treasonous crime.

“Yash… Yasha please… Yasha!” Ginnie put her back to the monument, arms splayed defensively to protect it. “Please no… please!! Don’t... don’t... no... please... it’s Rhae... it’s Rhae PLEASE!!”

Back against the monument, Ginnie screamed in a drowning grief, knees shaking and about to fall.

“Yash’ika... it’s Rhae...”

[member="Beth Cadera"] [member="Zesiro"] [member="Yasha Cadera"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

[member="Muad Dib"]’s eyes locked with Mand’alor the Infernal. Amber eyes narrowed, as an act of utter disregard for the Law flowed round the arena. The Force flowed, as it hadn’t since the day [member="Adara Raxis"] was revived. Since the day [member="Ginnie Dib"] was resurrected.

Yasha’s head snapped up through the display. She handed Amaa to Tamar, who held both twins, supported by Tuulu. The Infernal marched through the flame, and bore witness.

As others bore witness.

“You defile my home, Alor.” Heat licked her face. She felt not the scorch for her armour was strong. She felt nothing but the grief of him, who ripped a sore, which until now was transparent and hidden, from the soul of Manda’yaim.

“Right in front of me.” Her boots crushed the ground beneath her, as she walked regardless of the energies, principalities or powers rushing round her.

“Me, who allowed her infant daughter to die after four days of agony, rather than break the Law. ​

​

Me, who set the Cure to my own General’s skin, for reviving her. ​

​

You would have me bear witness to your agony. ​

​

Me, who banished my own step-mother, and caused my father to stagger blindly with his hand on the neck of an animal… rather than break the Law. ​

​

Who watched a son of the Dark Lord die in his father’s arms, rather than break the Law. ​

​

You tear open my planet and create a fissure of grief.​

You give false hope to my oldest friend, that somehow her deceased husband has not left her completely widowed.” Boots clenched and gripped at the ground, until the perilous form of the hulking Mandalorian Epicanthix stood over Muad’s kneeling form. Ginnie pressed her back against the monument, hands outstretched. Voice pleading.

Yasha’s heart skipped.

“Do you think I would not have denied such means to return my dead husband?! Do you think I would have held my baby, instead of waiting for her last breath!? You do this in front of me… is it death you want, Muad?” Bending down on her haunches, after eyeing the Clansmen to give her berth, Yasha unclipped her armourweave cloak and cast it over his shoulders, to protect others from the black ichor on his skin, and keep the weakened man warm.

“I am not that kind, to give death to those who wish Death brushes their cheeks with one last kiss.” Her gauntlet-clad hand tugged the grey cloak better round his shoulders. “You are dangerously flippant with your gifts, locking a young widow to a ghost, who can never hold her. What sort of Hell have you created for Ginnie, Muad Dib?”

“Yasha…” Ginnie begged, “Please! Please!!”

Casting her eyes to the monument and her oldest friend clinging to it, Yasha’s brilliant amber eyes bled salt water. What was Mand’alor but one who followed the Law? Her hands were bound behind her, each letter and sigil of the Law a contract upon her person. Ensuring the armourweave cloak was a barrier between the ichor and the outside world, Yasha offered the man and his Clansmen…

… a pair of arms to lift the Alor of Clan Farr.

“Bethany, you have another patient. Come quickly, and glove up. Attend to Alor Dib, then see what you can do with Amaa's burns. Her mother burnt her. It has been some time since I’ve seen black ichor of a similar nature. Take him to our ship if needs be, and do what you can… you will not leave Mandalore yet, Muad Dib. I have done nothing in my career but follow the Law. That Law was built upon the People and their desires, their faith.

It is them you have offended. And it is by them you will be held accountable. I hope for your and Ginnie’s sake the Mandalorians are more lenient than I was the last time someone broke the Force Law. [member="Beth Cadera"], take whatever supplies you need to heal him the best you can… and if you have need… escort him to Concordia and do what must be done.”

[member="Zesiro"] [member="Ginnie Dib"] [member="Muad Dib"] [member="Beth Cadera"]

 

[Muad Dib]

He was raised up and wrapped by the Infernal's cloak even as she sought to tear him down for his choices, decisions, and actions. Her words drilled into his spirit seeking to crush him. Yet they bolstered him, warmed him, emboldened him past even his own reckless abandon. Straightening under his own strength he looked up to the Manda'lor who towered above him.

"This coliseum was my home before you were even whelped, Infernal. Before Ra the Undying. Before the catalyst that scarred the planet and killed our people. It was under the reign of Azrael that I called this planet my home. So no, I do not defile your home, for this hearth is mine, Manda'lor."

His eyes cast about the great arena as the multitude of Clan Farr watched. Turning back to the Infernal he offered her a smirk

"Would you rather me do this behind your back like a craven? No, if I'm going to break your law, I won't hide from it."

His eyes flickered to where the form of Rhaegar watched in silence, his body so realistic it was almost corporeal. Turning from his uncle and Ginnie he looked back to the heavens where the Manda'lor glared down in ferocious countenance.

"It's not my fault you're too stupid to change a law that would have disgruntled a few of your people, a law left over from the previous regime, a law that brought you and your people even more pain. Sometimes clinging to the past helps you move forward. Sometimes clinging to the past makes it impossible to move forward."

He figured he had a few moments before the fact that he had called her, [member="Yasha Cadera"] , the Infernal Wolf, the Sole Ruler, stupid to kick in. Then again, maybe not. The fact that the woman refused to see that Rhaegar being lost to Ginnie would have broken her and pushed her away from her kids. What Muad offered was time. Time for closure. Time for son and daughter to see father. Time for a sort of prolonged goodbye. Time to grieve with your soulmate, and in Ginnie and Rhaegar's case, time to grieve with your soul.

He could have fought the arrest, but that wasn't what he wanted. And if the Manda'lor wanted him in chains because she didn't have the Stones to overturn a law that should have been, a law that had caused her unimaginable grief, then maybe she needed this wakeup call. She wanted to protect Manda'yaim for the Mando'ade by outlawing Force use on the planet. All it did was bind the hands of those law abiding citizens while those with no regard for the law would always act as they saw fit. So in essence the law did nothing but punish those Force sensitives born to Manda'yaim to deny an integral part of themselves on a daily basis while neither stopping not thwarting those who would act without care to the law of the land or the consequences thereof.

In this particular case it meant Muad Dib.

[member="Beth Cadera"] I [member="Ginnie Dib"] I [member="Zesiro"]

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Her heart stung at [member="Ginnie Dib"]’s sight. Heartbroken, destroyed, and… How could she recover? Would she? Beth sighed, glad that her buy’ce blocked anyone from seeing her depressed ears, sad frown, and teary eyes. She was really enjoying hiding behind her buy’ce. Ginnie was brought back to life – so… Why couldn’t Rhaegar?

Instead, he would be able to manifest as a Force ghost. In some ways, comforting. In others… How would Ginnie move on? She glanced to [member="Yasha Cadera"] as she walked towards [member="Muad Dib"], her boots pounding into the ground. Beth walked up to her side, although stayed somewhat back as she watched what was about to happen. In truth, Beth had literally no idea what was about to happen.

She winced as Yasha spoke. She made good points… But, on that same point, ouch. The Law… Beth sighed with a grimace. She fiddled with her hands as she watched Ginnie cry and beg for the statue to stay. That Rhaegar would somehow manifest, and… He was. His form was, well, forming. Is this what a Force ghost looked like? But her eyes focused on something else. The strange ichor that bled from Muad Dib’s body, like some form of plague. What disease was that? Or was it a Force phenoneman.

And then Yasha spoke to her. Beth’s eyes widened as she quickly came beside Yasha, who now held the weakened Muad. “I… I’ll try,” she whispered. Beth wasn’t exactly sure how to cure that, but perhaps their medical equipment diagnostics could help. Not too mention the books and everything else. “I think it would be safer if we have him in an isolation room, buir,” she said quietly. It would be safer for all involved – there would be no accidents in such a situation. And… She would wear her beskar’gam and a full suit to protect herself from whatever that was.

Amaa’s burns, thankfully, would be a much easier fix. She gave a final nod at the mention of Concordia, “Yes, Mand’alor,” she said with respect.

 

[Arabella Darkhold]

She had stayed outside of all that was happening knowing that sometimes [member="Muad Dib"] needed his space to be himself and to deal with family. She was entering the coliseum when she caught the sound of voices.

OH feth me she thought as she walked the pathway toward where everyone was gathered. She heard the words that [member="Yasha Cadera"] spoke and suddenly realized that Muad had used the force. After all her own thoughts of making the mistake of doing so he had done it. Feth she thought once again as cobalt blue eyes looked from one to the other as she slowly approached the group.

"I would go along." Her infiltrator sat on the landing pad somewhere nearby, and she could easily go get into it but....she looked at Muad, then to Yasha, then to....she could swear she should know this woman's name [member="Beth Cadera"]. She should not have stayed back she should have walked with him in, but didn't, that she would own to.

As his wife she felt she had a right to go along, witness, speak and whatever else was needed. Yell at him constantly and ask what he was thinking!

But if she had heard everything she knew already, the madman had a tender heart and sought to provide a comfort then it all blew up.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Like Rhaegar did, when he raised Ginnie from the dead on Manda’yaim? And asked forgiveness after I caught them unclothed in my father’s house in Sundari City?” Yasha’s teeth grit. She spoke loud enough for those round them to hear. The voice echoed. “Your Clan got one reprieve. Now you test me with another for the same man.”

The Clan Farr… original Clan of her deceased husband and paternal Clan of her eldest born, [member="Adara Raxis"]. A secret Yasha kept, for the shame of Kaden’s passing.

“The Law was not mine to dissolve, Alor Dib. I gave the law to the Clans, and it was their decision to keep it as it is, a desire to keep the active use of the Force off Manda’yaim. The People needed to heal, Muad. What good were displays of magic, when the population was hungry?” Yasha seethed. “I would not go against the comforts of my People. Even for my own kin. Even for the woman who dragged me out of the Warlock Gate as a six year old.”

Yasha reached a harsh hand and grabbed the cloth around [member="Muad Dib"]’s arm, the armourweave cloak still round it.

“And this? What closure does it give to Ginnie? A ghost in her arms? How does that move her forward? Muad, she burned her… Ginnie is a keg of live munitions, three seconds from igniting with every sob. How does being able to see the man, to watch his body in silence help heal her? How does that ensure the safety of her children, or reconstruct her decimated home?” Close to the ruinous Alor, Yasha tskt with her tongue and glared at her daughter [member="Beth Cadera"].

“Muad is in need of medical intervention. Take him to Concordia too, do whatever you can for Alor Dib… then release him into the care of his riduur. Allow her to be close to her beloved, but I think your decision of quarantine is wise. I have not seen black like that since Rhakgoul-like beings in the Nether. The People of Mandalore shall convene.

If you wish to push the Law’s destruction, you can be beholden to them for whatever might or mercy descends… plead your case for the Law’s dissolution without breaking it further. And Muad? Unless you and your wife wish to take Ginnie and Rhaegar’s twins, until she can control her pyromancy, they will be housed with mine.” Yasha eyed [member="Arabella Darkhold"], a relatively new face to behold, but for the whisper in her ear from her operations officer hidden in their ship.

Looking to [member="Ginnie Dib"], Yasha watched the woman collapse back into the statue of her husband, sobbing with her face in both hands. Shales of flame echoed in stutters from her body, a fire she could not control for grief.

“I hope for your sake, your arguments are pristine. The Mando'ade are not often as forgiving as I am.”

 

[Muad Dib]

As the vice like grip fell upon his arm he turned weary eyes to the Infernal. Yet the force of will kindled the smouldering resolve within. Straightening under the tongue lashing she offered relentlessly he squared shoulder and looked up into the youthful face of the Manda'lor. As she finished speaking he smiled cooly.

"You fail to realize one thing Infernal. I do not ask for forgiveness. Nor do I plead for absolution for my own choices. Do not lay the act just performed on a dead man. I chose this. Me. Muad Dib, Alor of Clan Farr and head of House Dib. So do not speak of reprieve given in my name, for I never asked for it."

His eyes flickered to where the form of Rhaegar was still visible before returning once more to [member="Yasha Cadera"] .

"What you gave was cin vhetin, the clean slate. To a man reborn as a mando'ad. If that is a mercy, then you call it what you will. I call it intelligence and spirit to uphold our culture. It is why my uncle became as a son with the words "Ni kar'tayl gai sa'ad", spoken before he knew he was a father."

A sneer crossed his face as he leaned forward slightly.

"You've tasted the ash of loss, the sundering of your mate from this galaxy. Many of us have. How much could that one last conversation soften the excessive madness of despair? Now, even more so, does the weight of utter madness lay upon our Ginnie. For she shared a shard of Rhaegar's soul. Tell me her grieving process will not be even more compounded and complicated by this? Tell me that you would not sacrifice yourself for the greater good of your people. And so too do I. I made the choice knowing the dire consequences because my people and the future of my people needed this. Ginnie will need time to face and accept her riduur's death and their children will know their father. Will it be difficult? Yes. Is it wise? Who can say. Is it an opportunity for them should they wish it, one not available to many? Absolutely. Ginnie, Rhae, and Amaa are my people, my House, my Clan. They are our future. And I did what I believed was necessary for them."

His arm pulled free and he turned to give that rare, open smile, that he shared with select few, to [member="Arabella Darkhold"]. Her father was mando'ad, among other things, and she would know just as he how perilous the situation could potentially be. But she had seen him behave reckless in the face of his conviction before. This wouldn't be the last time either, or so he hoped. He nodded at [member="Beth Cadera"] to acknowledge he was ready, but looked back to the Infernal.

"As for Amaa, Rhae, and Ginnie. They are mine. My blood and my Clan. Mine. My brother and I have already dispatched protectors from our clansmen who will be with them until they reach adulthood. Their hearth is my hearth. My yaim is their yaim. They are my people, my responsibility, and my joy."

A final feral smile was offered.

"The next new moon. Call the Clans of Manda'yaim. Call the alors. I will meet them here where ever they wish. I will neither beg nor plead. I will speak to them as an equal, for that is what I am. And I will accept the consensus of my brethren. If they wish to uphold a law that still, to this day, fractures our society from within, then I shall submit. And if they choose to free our people of the fetters that bind our people from the Force, then I shall accept that as well. For I do not beg."

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Beth cautiously stood near [member="Muad Dib"] and [member="Yasha Cadera"]. She wasn’t entirely sure what to do, relatively frozen in worry for Muad, her father’s friend, and her mother, who… Made very good points. Both did. Beth wasn’t a fan of the law, but she respected it – and she would never, ever, look her mother in the eyes while she used the Force. She shivered at the bravery (or perhaps idiocracy) that Maud had.

She gave a greeting nod to [member="Arabella Darkhold"]. She seemed slightly familiar – hm. Nonetheless, she agreed – she should be allowed to come with. A spouse should always be allowed to be with their love and she was sure her mom would agree with it. Although, to be fair, Beth glanced to Yasha to make the decision.

Beth wasn’t sure about the ghost. She wasn’t sure if it was a good idea or not. She guessed only Ginnie would know that… She sighed as she watched his figure continue to form, nearly complete and as Ginnie sobbed on the statue. Beth’s heart hurt, for her. For Arabella. For Muad. For his Clan. Gods, life was just not right, sometimes.

Beth gave a nod. “We’ll make sure he’s quarantined.” She gave another nod to Arabella, “Come with us, please. We can have someone come for your ship, if you have one, later,” she said quietly.

So this would be it. The people would speak on the Force law on Mandalore. They would meet and decide, as a people. Oh man, she hoped they were nicer than they used to be. “This way, please,” she said as she guided them to a ship so they could get to Concordia.

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“Funny how you expect the one most in danger of the law is yourself.” Yasha turned her gaze to Ginnie, the flames of her pyromancy still dancing round her as she cried in grief of her lost soul. “It is not that I am heartless. Only that I must follow the bounds of my Station. If not even Mand’alor can follow the Rule of Law, we have little hope of banding together when needs are great. I already sacrifice everything I have to the altar of Manda. My children, my spouses, my family, I have no worldly goods, nor place to lay my head beyond what the Palace lends. I own nothing. I am nothing but the servant of Manda. And I am compelled to follow the Laws the Vode in union set forth. Regardless of my own desire. You put her husband’s corpse on a planet she cannot be near, without breaking. I am terrified for her. And the twins.” Mandalore was a prison, containing the woman before him since she was a wide-eyed, frightened girl of eight.

The youth at twenty, who watched her husband die in front of her, and was forcibly stopped from venturing to the Netherworld to have that one last conversation [member="Muad Dib"] broke the reality of Manda’yaim to give [member="Ginnie Dib"].

Because the Mandalorians needed their Infernal… she must lay such things as grief behind her, unexperienced and unfelt… for the good of the Vode.

Being Mand’alor was being prisoner to the whims and will of Manda. It was symbol, religious aspiration, and pseudo-monarch locked into armour so heavy her shoulders ached by midday. But she bore it, oh, especially in moments such as this. All Yasha wanted was to open her arms to all Manda’s children, to bring every child home. To reunify and strengthen, protect and serve. All of them, powered or not. Out of the millions of Vode, were a few hundred force sensitive Mandalorians worth alienating on their Homeworld? Was the idea of a Mandalorian somehow tainted by powers in a foreign magic?

Although the Epicanthix was insensible through the mental applications of the Force, Yasha’s face broke for those Vode Muad would bring home. That she would bring home, if the will of the Vode spoke louder than their collective memories and fears.

“Remember this. Ginnie is my oldest friend. I will take every opportunity to ensure she is healthy and whole. The resources I have are available to her, but I cannot have her creating infernal maelstroms burning down Sundari City. Tend her well.” Yasha nodded to the new moon, turning her face back to Ginnie weeping at the Nexus.

“Before you and @Arabella Darkholm take them... they were hungry. Give us a moment to feed them and say my goodbyes. They’re lovely babies. And do let [member="Beth Cadera"] do what she can for Amaa’s burns. I still wish Beth to treat you, too. You will need all your strength to stand before the Vode. That is what grace I can give you. Be well.” Another layer... let Beth spend time with him. Let Beth see what an unapologetic Force User was like. Let her practice and heal. Chances of this nature were uncommon on Mandalore, and Yasha would give that bit of grace to her daughter, to try and learn.

Yasha turned her back on Muad, and went to the twins, where her and Tamar sought a private area to ensure they were in fresh clothing, a bag packed for their travels. The few things not burnt by Ginnie’s fire packed in clean linen. Her own twins born a mere day or two before, Yasha sat with Ginnie's, rocking and soothing what she could as she felt their downy hair.