The Golden Festival (ME/Invite Only)

[Gilamar Skirata]

When he was told by the leader of Ketyadyr's militia that he would be one of two Mandalorians accompanying Gilamar Skirata to Mandalore for the Golden Festival he hadn't quite believed it. He had spent the last several months working to be noticed by the Guard, but was afraid that warriors with longer service records than he would be recognized. This was his chance. So long as nothing went wrong, this would be his first step.

When Gilamar stopped moving suddenly in the middle of the park he stopped as well. They stood there for a few minutes before Jak placed what he hoped was a calming hand on the man's shoulder.

"Gilamar," he said, loud enough for the old man to hear. The old man shook before patting the beskar gauntlet of Jak and gave his appreciation. From behind the T-shaped visor of his helmet Jak was grinning like a child. Maybe this was his time to speak to the old man?

He swallowed his words when his partner gave a negative head shake. This wasn't the time for chatter. Dorn Skirata, the man that had faked Gil's death during the Civil War and usurped the position of Alor of House Skirata was still on the planet, and as far as they could tell well supported by the Mandalorian Empire. There were rumors that he ran Death Watch still, a secret police type of unit which meant assassination attempts were still high in the realm of possibility.

"Jak!" The other Mandalorian guard shouted, but it was too late.

He walked head on into [member="Lilik Mantis"].

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Absolutely oblivious, Alkor plucked a towel from behind the bar and started drying himself off. The likelihood of stickiness grew higher as the alcohol set, and he would not be able to take a proper shower for a few hours yet. He noted the scant number of words [member="Kaine Australis"] spoke to [member="Yasha Mantis"], coupled with his smiling and her spinning, and he came to the only logical conclusion.

They were drunk! Of course they were. It was the best thing anyone could be, after all.

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] asked about his muscles, and Alkor glanced down. Did they have the look of false or implanted muscles? Had he toned them improperly, or did they seem somehow comical on his person? For years, he had been corrupted by the Dark side of the Force, and his body was locked in a seemingly eternal state of malnourishment. He had been unable to gain healthy weight or muscle, and so, the feeling of his own body as it was now still felt foreign, sometimes.

When he realized they were collectively impressed, Alkor blinked. Were they that impressive? He had no metric for that. Instead of questioning them about it, he shrugged.

"Wearing Beskar'gam takes a bit of strength, even if we're accustomed to it," he said with a laugh. Was that the right response? Was the laugh properly timed? He looked from Jaster to Yasha and noted they still seemed relaxed.

Good. He hadn't done anything awkward. Yet.

When it came to words and wine with others, the man was still years behind his age. On a battlefield, or in a room for strategy, he was much more adept- but life wasn't all blasters and swords. There were many types of battles to fight. He was still learning how to fight them.

Then, Yasha said something that made Alkor grin mischievously. Booze for everyone, to solve every problem! Finally, something he could totally relate to!

"Another handle," he said as he twisted to regard the bartender, his expression stretching from ear to ear. The man grimaced as he leaned over and plucked the drink from the cupboard. He placed it on the counter and slid it toward Alkor slowly.

"I don't have much of that, you know," the vendor told Alkor, "Corellia hasn't distilled a great deal in some years, and they don't export what they have very often."

With grabby hands, the Corellian Exile peeled the whiskey from its owners hands and gave a thumbs up. "Well," he replied, "then I can assure you, it's going to a good cause."

He turned back and regarded [member="Cassiopeia Australis"], shaking the bottle slightly. "How about a drink," he offered, "that always helps me relax."

 

[Yasha Cadera]

Her General seemed incapable of speech. Was he really having such a terrible day!? For a while he was silent, [member="Alkor Centaris"] was covered in [member="Cassiopeia Australis"]’ liquor, and Yasha couldn’t help but be cheerful. Laugh. [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] came to them, offering even better drinks, and all was right in the world…

Except for Kaine’s silence.

“Kain’ik, you’re so quiet. Are you...” Kaine quiet? Usually the issue was a lack of being able to shut the man up. Yet this silence was of a different quality to the disquiet in his cell that fateful day… the day he promised to be her rock, when all others ran. To be her helpmate in the gambit of ruling Mandalore. To hold her fatherless daughter and give her a role model, while respecting Yasha’s celibacy and boundaries.

“It’s a party, Kain’ik. Come now, no more grief. It’s a party. Let’s have fun tonight, we’ve had enough of woe.” This was yet another realm of silence, and as he pushed three more words out of his covered lips, Yasha wondered why her cheeks got hot. Why her skin flushed, or her dress felt even more silken than before. The Infernal raised her gaze from [member="Kaine Australis"]’ near silent nature to the overarching lanes of the Golden Festival. An MBE in her ear whispered of the arrival of a guest Yasha most hoped to see.

“The Builder... he came...” Yasha stood up on her tip toes, scanning the crowd for the face she saw in holo and never in person...

... not since the first battle of the Civil War, where he was a figure in Beskar’gam, fighting Ra. “Kain’ik, Alkor, Jaster, Cassi he came!”

Drink all but forgotten, Yasha grabbed Kaine’s arm and tugged. “Where is he? Where is he...”

Yasha followed the bead in her ear, searching off in the crowd for Mand’alor the Builder. [member="Gilamar Skirata"]. The man Ra Vizsla was grieved to lose. He would be dressed simple, Clan Skirata’s Wolf on his chest.

In the crowd, static and uncomfortable, surrounded by guards was an aging man with his buy’ce on his belt. There.

There he was.

“The Builder…” Yasha fussed with her hair and fiddled with her dress, turning around before turning back to [member="Gilamar Skirata"] and with a salute, felt her courage grow, when [member="Ambrose Mantis"] and Tuulu in full beskar’gam, came to stand behind her.

“… Gilamar Skirata. You came... you are alive.” Yasha couldn’t help the soft grin spreading on her face. “I know the past has been tragic and hard and not everything I do has been right by you… but you are always welcome on Manda’yaim… thank you for coming. Would you like to see our Festival? When [member="Cassiopeia Australis"] and [member="Beth Australis-Mantis"] came up with the idea, I couldn’t say no.

We've all been through hell... it was long since time to have a night to celebrate what we've rebuilt. A night to remember joy exists, even in the caution of protecting our own.”

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Cassiopeia was still bright red from her stumble. She sighed as she continued to wipe herself off, glancing about to see if she could find a place to maybe get a shirt. Or perhaps a sweater, to slip over her now stained dress. Cassiopeia did her best to not focus on the perks that were laid before her. And he was modest about them. Or oblivious, it seemed. Either way, Cassiopeia gave a weak smile to [member="Yasha Mantis"]. "Please shroud me and let me perish. This was not expected at all," she said quietly as she sighed.

"It's those darn ears, I swear." She glanced over to [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] who approached! Jaster came! She gave a big smile to the man which quickly faded as he asked if she was okay. Manda, she would never live this down... "I, yes, I am, thank you for asking... I just... Can't walk, anymore, apparently." She shrugged a little as she gave a joking smile. She chuckled a little as Jaster joked about [member="Alkor Centaris"] muscles. Despite her clumsy entrance, all of her favorite friends and family were here! And that made it absolutely worth it.

She perked a brow, however, at the stammering [member="Kaine Australis"]. Cassiopeia knew Yasha was breathtakingly beautiful right now. She watched his reaction to Yasha. Did he have feelings for her? She leaned over to Yasha and Kaine and winked at Kaine, "Her eyes are up there, dude," she pointed to Yasha's eyes before she received the comm that... [member="Gilamar Skirata"] had arrived? She was surprised but excited that he had arrived. Yasha was already running over towards him. Cassiopeia, though? Not with this big ole' stole stain on her white dress. She slipped into a seat beside Alkor.

She grinned at the exchange between the bartender and Alkor. "A drink sounds absolutely great, yes." With that, she retrieved a cup full of whiskey as well. She sighed as she caught the smell and took a long, enjoyable sip of the drink before sitting it back down on the bar. "Man, it's been too long."

 

[Shia Kryze]

[member="Gilamar Skirata"]

Shia wasn't... the best at hiding her emotions, so when [member="Yasha Mantis"] walked over to the 'dead' man, it was impossible to hide the grin on her face. Maybe, maybe they might salvage something from all this after all. No matter who she had to kill to make sure it didn't fall apart.

She didn't involve herself - this wasn't her moment and she was too busy giving [member="Kaine Australis"] a rather long, slightly wary look. She wasn't blind, after all. But...

... not actually your business, vod or not, Shia.

Besides, they're staying out of yours.

She laughed to the air in slight disbelief, then walked over towards [member="Cassiopeia Australis"] and [member="Alkor Centaris"], because even introverted old Shia wasn't going to be alone at a party.

"Su cuy'gar, Cassiopeia." She deadpanned, copying an introduction from their first real meeting. "No tequila?"

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Gilamar raised his palm to his face as Jak spilled himself over some woman, stopping the group for a moment and drawing unnecessary attention to them. The commotion brought the attention of someone he hoped he would have seen much later in the night, or maybe the next day. The current Mand'alor, Yasha Mantis. He remembered Preliat being so excited to have her, to raise her like a true Mandalorian, to begin life as a family of his own in the culture he had chosen. His life had changed with rumors that he planned on not letting her live the same life.

Yet here she was, towering over most of the other Mandalorians and super-massive for a woman her age. Speaking of age, she was much older than the 12 or 13 she had been almost a year ago. What was happening to his people, relying on two mystically appearing leaders with no questions and smiles?

He sighed and tried to put on as diplomatic a face as possible.

"Mand'alor," he nodded in respect, "Takes a little more than a scuttled space station to kill me." His eyes wandered about the festival, Sundari had always been liberal when it came to wearing armor with some opting to wear armored clothing or simply pieces of familial armor as decorative pieces. Its founding and history meant that much of the Core's "civilized" customs were more abundant despite it being a key military stronghold on the world so it was only expected to see less armor here.

But he never thought he'd see a Mand'alor not in her armor. How times had changed.

"No, thank you for your offer but I actually have business to take care of. You aren't the only ones to be surprised I'm alive. We were just stopping here to see what all the fuss was about. We're on our way to Keldabe. I've heard they've made the best out of their new lake island restate." A small joke.

[member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Spare Character]

Blame the training, or Lilik's miserable social skills, but her first instinct upon being bumped was to enter defensive mode. Her body, small for her species but still more than capable, dropped into a crouch before springing away. Her hand went for her weapon, which she had freed and ready even before she shifted her weight into a new stance. The orange eyes that made her stand out from a crowd hummed with power, akin to the electricity one might find in a shady district's neon signs. And only when she was ready to pounce, ready to defend, ready for anything, did she care to view her opponent.

He had only a few inches on her, but beneath his full armor, it was difficult to tell much else. At least, when it came to judging his physical attributes. The symbol of House Skirata that blazed from the front of his chest left little question as to his purpose. What remained, however, was what he, and his charge, were doing there. She had not expected to see [member="Gilamar Skirata"], as no one had informed her of his possible appearance prior to the event. That fact led to a pin-prick of annoyance, which disappeared entirely when she chalked it up to a surprise.

It was a shame that his guards were so impossibly ill-trained. Face unreadable, voice flat, Lilik finally addressed him. "What are you doing?"

[member="Jak Cadera"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“There was a body. Dental records, DNA… the Undying and I mourned you. Mandalore mourned you. I know now many of the laws of the Undying were little more than loose tyranny, and his ideas about those of us gifted with the Force were… barbaric. They are laws I have changed… but he mourned you. Rebuilding Mandalore without the Builder… I tell you if we’d known where you were, I would have marched into that prison and pulled you out of it myself, even if I was merely Katlaydr at the time.” This was not a man who would instantly become a friend of her Empire, The Infernal knew this. He was here to see the waters of change for himself, not to join the cause.

All Yasha hoped in this meeting was to open the line of communication, and the potential to allow trade between the Southern Reaches and the Northern Empire.

Kaine seemed oblivious to [member="Cassiopeia Australis"]’ joke sentiment, but Yasha both heard and understood her friend’s point. A pink flush came to her cheek, washing down her skin across the visible points of her décolleté and shoulders.

Briefly her eyes flickered to Kaine’s face as he removed his buy’ce, and looked at her. She softened, amber eyes flickering across his features, shoulders, down to the buy’ce he wore previously. “Kain’ik… do I have…”

Yasha smiled away the momentary flush to her skin, punching Kaine’s shoulder without a care to how hard she did so.

“[member="Gilamar Skirata"], meet Warmaster [member="Kaine Australis"], my confidante, Master of the Arts of War, creator of insane tech and the most Kad Ha’rangir-like Mandalorian I’ve met. Alor Australis, The Builder. The first and only Mand’alor my mother followed… for his engineering prowess. Mama wasn’t much for ‘bucket headed shenanigans’, as she called it… ” Shaking her head, Yasha watched [member="Ambrose Mantis"] sidle up with three of the Yalilyr, all draped in their matte black beskar’gam. Yasha’s face turned hard, commanding and stern as she turned and looked at Ambrose, the leader of Death Watch, and put her hand on his pectoral.

The Gurlanin snarled under his buy’ce, and backed a few paces to a respectful distance. The stern nature of her power to command remained.

“New Keldabe fed a great deal of us with their fish stores. The city is something to see, especially at the beginning of the terraforming process, MandalMotors worked hard to keep our economy afloat. I’ve since created trade deals with several economies around us, our flow of goods in import and export have increased by 700% and shifted in constituency from humanitarian aid to income-generating flow of tangibles… we’ve had our first agricultural harvest, and have increased our self-sufficiency in foodstuffs by more than 70%. We are very much on the right economic track… hey, if you want to try the use of the new waterfront real estate, I can lend you a pole and line… or you can go over to the feast tables.” Yasha pointed at the feast tables, laden with the small plenty of Manda’yaim’s rejuvenation.

This was a planet finally capable of letting out a sigh of relief, a place where the raw injurious and recent past had the opportunity to cure itself. To heal. The Infernal had spent months doing nothing more than working on Manda’yaim, on creating economic pathways to prosperity, and protecting the Vode with defences and a navy built in the vast majority by Kaine Australis and Zeke Farthen.

It was this pause of plenty in which the Golden Festival found itself. A rare occasion to treat Sundari City as the aliit’yaim. The Home. A rare opportunity to celebrate the successes, and mourn the losses which had been most plentiful. It was the essence of letting go, and the praise of moving forward, away from the past.

“We are a people of cautious hope and reconciliation again, Alor Skirata. Vigilant of future battles, prepared with fangs for aggression. We have more than the cobbled pieces of a broken world. This is an Empire worth defending, and a culture which requires the chance to flourish. You are, as ever, welcome on Manda’yaim. All who desire trade, and peaceful meetings are welcome on Manda’yaim. Thank you for coming to this celebration. Should you require my time, do not hesitate to ask… although tonight is not for business. It is the first celebration of our regenesis, and hopefully not the last. Fare well, Gilamar Skirata. Be well.”

The Mand’alor stepped shoulder-to-shoulder with Kaine Australis, a finger briefly touching upon his wrist. Her heart leapt in her ribcage, a cautious flush returning to her cheek.