Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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The Healing of Kalevala [Mandalorians]

Jor Kvall

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
white_desert_new_mexico5.jpg

Inside Kalevala there ticks a clock
Or perhaps a heart.
The dead sand is time,
Stratified like waves on a shore.
-Clan Kvall folk song
After assuming leadership of his clan, Jor did not think he would return to Kalevala so soon. The planet he had spent his childhood on was dead to him from the moment he left; dead like the memories of Clan Kvall's woeful years spent here. And it was still just as dead when he returned now. The Clan had, quite literally, moved on to the greener pastures of Krownest, their ancestral homeland, leaving the exhausted, lifeless soil of Kalevala behind for good. But as men cannot be severed from their past, so Jor could not be severed from this planet.

Kalevala was more than just a neighbor of his people's capital in the Mandalore system. This planet was a stark reminder of not only Jor's family journey, but also the brutality of Mandalorian history. If there was once a time where the sand under Jor's feet harbored life, neither he nor his furthest-known ancestors had ever seen it. Mandalore had not been the only casualty of warfare in those ancient times; Kalevala too suffered, and still sat decrepit, extinguished and neglected. The Mandalorian Resource Wars only further desiccated the already flayed husk of this planet, its light burned out by wars with the Jedi millenia prior. Kalevala was truly the grimmest stain in the Mandalore system, for it was a melancholy ode to not only his people's failure on the battlefield, but a failure to protect and maintain their way of life. It was a reminder that, ultimately, the current course of the galaxy was unsustainable.

As Jor watched the dropships of his people arrive, he leaned down to feel the white sand of his childhood memories between his fingers again. In his teenage years he had hated every moment spent on this dried-up rock, and yet now that he was Clan leader, he found himself right back where he'd started, voluntarily. Perhaps it was his intimate experience with this planet that had made him come back; his determination to clear the blemishes of his people's past, and not just his own Clan's. He hated every speck of toxic sand on this planet, yet he loved the ball of dust more than he could imagine. It was the only home he'd known for much of his life.

He was determined to bring life back to Kalevala, to wash away the polluted white sands and breathe mountains, forests and lakes onto its surface once again. To his surprise, [member="Yasha Mantis"] herself had heeded his call, and the resources of the Mandalorian Empire were directed towards Mandalore's forgotten sister planet. Jor looked behind and watched the dropships continue to land. In all his years here, he had never seen Kalevala's atmosphere bustling with quite so much activity as now. RID was already hard at work resuscitating the dead sands and lifeless winds.

Soon, Jor thought, funneling the sand from his gloved hand back to the ground again, Soon you will have a heartbeat again.

[member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Kista Bralor"] [member="Zelen"]

~OOC Thread~
 

Zelen

Aliit ori'shya tal'din
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=OfPH6WgBAWg

Zelen was drawn here for a number of reasons, but two were uppermost in her mind. The first was a desire to help that manifested itself as a sense of duty. This was because it was for the Mandalorian Empire – and as she had learned – Aliit ori'shya tal'din. Quite literally, family is more than blood.

She’d learned that first by being adopted and finding no stigma attached to the practice – in fact it seemed it was common for their kind. Race meant nothing in Mandalorian life.

Zelen was aboard one of the dropships, her expertise (and the second main reason for being here) – despite her years – was in engineering. They hadn’t had to travel far, Kalevala occupied the fourth orbit of the cognominal Mandalore system. The terrain was sadly a toxic desert-scape – but they were here to help right that situation.

Despite the conditions, it was a planet that boasted production of expensive wine and rich fabrics as well as starships and even luxurious starliners. A far cry from the traditionally expected exports of a warrior culture.

Her precise role was undetermined – but she understood science in general, explosives, engineering and technology specifically. If it could be built or programmed, she’d be able to lend a hand.
 

Jor Kvall

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
Another bite of harsh wind accosted Jor, his helmet protecting his face from being bitten by the stinging grains of toxic sand. Dropships continued to land, and the atmospheric purifiers had already been instructed to begin pumping needed amounts of nitrogen and oxygen into the atmosphere. They could be seen and heard above, whirring across the sunscape of Kalevala, looming and floating like machinated jellyfish in the sky, their purifying actions invisible to the naked eye. Next, Jor would hope to speak with the executive of Raxis Independent Designs, [member="Gray Raxis"] himself, as there were a number of clerical items to recant.

He turned, watching [member="Zelen"] exit from her dropship. She was easy to spot because she seemed more diminuitive than the average Mandalorian, even for a female; she seemed to have seen very few winters from the looks of her, but such things were not so easily judged. The point of larger importance was that she was here to help. Jor had never seen her before, did not know that she was an adopted orphan, although such a thing would be especially foreign concept to his clan. The fact that the Kvall could trace their descent back to the ancient humans of Mandalore was a source of great pride for them, and thus, adopting outsiders into the fold - even other humans - except by marriage, rarely occurred, if ever.

Jor approached the young girl and nodded a welcoming greeting. He then unfurled his face from his helmet, revealing a young man who appeared to have aged a bit since his last appearance fighting at the side of Ra Vizsla, a ruddy blonde beard now covering his face.

"Well met. Your presence here to serve is most valued."
 
[member="Jor Kvall"] [member="Zelen"]
Every place had its beauty, even this place. From above she could see it was definitely a planet that had been drained it's natural beauty destroyed. Yet even with its grey and white color she saw beauty and a future for it

She was arriving in her own little dropship bringing her daughter brigh, who she wanted to bring around the mandalorians more often and get her used to it all and learn a little bit about the people. She began landing setting down gently as she could sinking a bit into the sand before the ship would finally power down .

momma? What happened to this place?

Stardust looked over to her daughter, those light green eyes staring up at her as she took a breath and looked out towards the sands

war, war is what has done this

why?

Stardust stopped half way down the ramp, she turned towards her daughter that oh so curious child of her and couldn't help a smile

let us not worry why, the future is what we must look towards, I see this place in the future teeming with life

She stepped off into the sand, she wore her armor with her helmet resting on her hip, her daughter wore a mask to keep the sand out, pants to keep her legs safe and a long sleeved shrt. She started forward as she looked towards the two here. She waved for he daughter to follow as she approached the two


lotta work to be done here, where do you need the most help?
 

Jor Kvall

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
In another moment's notice Jor's attention was diverted away by one [member="Stardust Australis Skirae"]. As the apparent de facto leader of operations here, due to his personal history and knowledge of the planet, Jor imagined that the rest of the day would be much like this. He was surprised when he wheeled around and saw a Twi'lek standing before him carrying a young one in tow, obviously part of another clan. Jor had never seen one of her race before in person.

"There are pilots needed to drive the atmospheric purifiers, if you possess such a skill," Jor answered her. Behind him, tents were being erected by those of his clan, which appeared capable of housing hundreds at a time. "Tonight there will be a great feast as well, if you-"

Jor's sentence was interrupted by a beeping of the comlink at his wrist, which he brought to his ear to answer. Only the commanders of the rehabilitation efforts had been given his comlink digits.

"Sir, it's about those coordinates you provided..." A grainy voice could be heard through the comlink, audible to Stardust and those around him as well. "The place where the asteroid hit yesterday. It seems to have brought with it a space slug. There's no way we can plant our soil reclamators in that area without being attacked."

Jor looked back up at Stardust. "Or... that."
 
Kryze had been torn between the effort needed to restore Coruscant - a significant contract with a major galactic company, and with working at home. They knew RID were involved - no big surprise there, but restoration of a planet was not a one-clan affair, except for the biggest of clans.

Which admittedly, Kryze had ambitions on being, and those ambitions required cold, hard capital. Mandalorian frugality was renowned, and even now the most poor of clans tended to have significant finances to spare. It wasn't that anyone lived hand to mouth - even outside the Empire - it was just... money was not the same as resources.

Well, Kryze had the resources in the form a significantly sized fleet of terraforming station and survey craft, all fully compatible with the RID installations no doubt spreading across the planet. The new droids from Coruscant should arrive soon as well, adding to efficiency of any terraforming effort. Kalevala would bloom again, with a lot of hard work and back-breaking effort.

Somewhere in her schedule (she wasn't entirely sure where, someone else handled that now, except when she delegated and ran off to the rim to play smuggler princess) someone had found the time for Shia to be on one of the first corvettes to land. Apparently, no one else could be trusted with the final arrangements. She was going to _have_ to put a stop to this nonsense, or she'd go mad.

She walked down the ramp, her visor dimming against the bright sunlight.

"Wow." She said out loud, for she'd never visited the planet. The Sundari wastes - an area she knew well - looked more hospitable. "This... is going to take some effort. So who's the alor on this job?"

[member="Jor Kvall"] | [member="Stardust Australis Skirae"]​
 
[member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Jor Kvall"]

Her daughter looked human despite her mother being a twilek. She sat her down and placed a gentle hand on her shoulder as she listened to jor. She had the skill to fly, had it most of her life, his next suggestion wasn't a bad idea either getting food ready for the hundreds of people helping to fix this planet

Then something unexpected came up, causing her to grin a bit as she looked to her daughter. It would be a good learning experience, stardust shifted her shoulders and nodded

tell your men to get to a safe distance, we will handle the slug, I'll radio in once I have it killed

She turned and her daughter followed, they walked a few feet before her daughter looked up and asked

momma what is a space slug?


Stardust took a minute, she hadnt seen one up close this would honestly be her first time

you've seen a tiny slug before harmless right? This one is gigantic lot larger then us and lives mostly inside asteroids waiting for prey to eat

so....we have to kill it?

it is hindering the progress of restoring this planet and attacking our fellow brothers and sisters, it is a necessary evil

Her daughter looked forward in thought, she made it to teach a punt that both evil and good exist and that sometimes one or the other is neccessary, after boarding their ship again brigh looked to her mother

so ...even sometimes...hurting another is necessary

Stardust took a second to think, before chuckling

do not read far into it, sometimes you must not hurt someone rather then hurt them...after all everyone has feelings we must consider

Brigh gave a smile, she enjoyed learning from her mother, stardust started the drop ship up and lifted up slowly towards the the sky and towards the asteroid
 

Jor Kvall

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
Not long after [member="Shia Kryze"] found her way to the planet's desolate surface, Jor appeared before her in his bone armor, his helmet off to reveal his face, blonde hair being waved about by the winds of the wastes.

"I am," He answered her, having overheard her question a few moments ago. "I am Jor Kvall, Alor of House Kvall. My people once inhabited this planet."

Shia was right; it would take a magnanimous rebuilding effort to restore Kalevala to anything like what it once was in times lost to history. Some would perhaps say that it would be impossible. But Jor wanted dreamers over mere men - those who looked at the impossible and asked, why not?

Jor nodded to [member="Stardust Australis Skirae"] as she prepared to undertake the mission to eliminate the newly nested space slug. Then, he turned back to Shia.

"What is your specialty? If it is dealing death to all things large and small, then perhaps you should join us in eliminating a space slug that is destroying our rebuilding efforts."
 

Jor Kvall

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
WEEK'S END - THE BANQUET

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Word had reached camp that the space slug had met its end. The first week of the rebuilding of Kalevala had seen both toil and bloodshed, while the ashes of the planet clamored for life again. Life they had received, as reports were coming in that the soil of the planet's northwestern quadrant was beginning to turn. Soon it would be a womb for life once again, sprouting outstretched plants that bent for forming rainclouds.

The Alor of House Kvall had decreed that there would be a feast to celebrate the end of the week's toil.

Several large tents had been erected to protect from the whipping winds of Kalevala outside, housing inside rows of tables that extended far, with enough seating to accomodate the large flock of Mandalorians that had been invited. Soon the hearth in the middle of the largest tent would be lit, and above it would be roasted enough meat to feed six thousand six hundred and sixty six men. At the head of the tent was a chair for Jor Kvall himself, the main petitioner of the operations here on Kalevala. At the rest of the head table were empty seats, for one could only anticipate the important personalities that would arrive.

Dusk was falling on their part of Kalevala. Alcohol was already beginning to flow aplenty as guests from all across Mandalorian space arrived, their nostrils filled with the smell of sizzling rong boar.
 
It was a question of pride for Mand’alor the Infernal to heed the call from Clan Kvall’s Alor. An old Civil War associate, Yasha momentarily struggled with seeing another in the sea of faces that knew her as a child, and would see her now displaced in time.

An adult, a mother and Mand’alor. Setting aside the sense of displacement she resided within, Mand’alor the Infernal prepared the legion of engineers and grunts necessary to terraform a once dead world into another jewel for the Mando’ade. How could they let Kalevala lie fallow, when it was so close to the planet they recently terraformed, and continued to improve? What good was the technology developed to salvage Mandalore’s ecosystems, if they sold it to the highest bidders, but did not care for their own planets?

Jor was right. This echoing dead world needed them.

The Sole Ruler took her place among one of the many drop pods and troop carriers flowing to the surface. Surrounded by engineers, she prepared mentally with the geological information studied once Jor’s plea left with her favourable response. Somewhere, her sister [member="Zelen Raxis"] was hitting surface to give her engineering prowess, and Yasha hoped to connect further with the newest addition to their Raxis family.

[member="Stardust Australis Skirae"] would be on the planet with her daughter. Yasha regretted leaving Adara behind, but after the recent attempts on Adara’s life, the young and widowed mother couldn’t fathom the risk of Adara leaving the Palace.

[member="Shia Kryze"] was already on the ground, when Yasha’s drop pod of reinforcements landed and the Infernal walked toward [member="Jor Kvall"] and the others. Behind her, Clan Mantis and Clan Raxis engineers hopped to, filling in and relieving pilots, rushing to unload crates of supplies, and some taking new readings of the progress made and the scale of the issue.

“Space slug, eh? Think it requires another set of hands? I happen to have a complete one.” Mand’alor the Infernal raised both fists, releasing the twin katar, which were her signature when she fought as a twelve year old for Ra Vizsla.

Little Rekr grew up.

“Nothing we can’t handle, if you don’t mind an Infernal tag-along. My Aliite are here to work, Alor Kvall. So put me where you need me, and I shall serve.” A nod of her wolf-helm, and the Mand’alor stood before Kalevala’s saviour.

“Su cuy’gar, Kvall. You are most well met.”

Week's End

Yashaarmournobuyce.png
In another tent, across from the gathering building steam, Yasha Mantis plied the true trade of her heart, soul and education:


Botany.

While her mother was an engineering master, and her step-mother a diplomatic boon, Yasha Mantis had skill in the procurement, husbandry and growth of flora, from single-celled organisms to the eventual groves which would sweep across Kalevala in time. Putting down another projection of algae formation in stagnant pools, Yasha rubbed at the bridge of her nose.

It had been a long week.

The seedlings brought from Manda'yaim began to take root. Sprouts took some of the turning soil, great sunflowers hybridized for use in cleansing heavy metals and radiation from the soil, and storing them in the vast leg-like trunks of the massive flowers. Who said a flower couldn't help solve radiation poisoning? Truth be, it was the first plant Yasha hybridized, grown on Manda'yaim before the Civil War was even complete, when Ra gave the girl soil behind the Palace.

"Mand'alor, the celebration is beginning. You should attend."

"I wouldn't dare, let the troops have their fun."

[member="Ambrose Mantis"] gave a stunted smile and set his hand over the datapad upon which Yasha worked. "A woman needs to eat, even an Epicanthix one. Do not dishonour your host by refusing to attend."

Draped in her Infernal Beskar'kandar, Yasha walked into the main tent, and came to the head of the table, where Jor sat in repose. She removed her wolf-helm and set it aside, as members of her Yalilyr and her Clan began to filter in and find seats and tankards of their own. Ambrose set a tankard before Yasha, giving her a gruff wink.

"Thank you, Ambrose. Kvall, you are as ever a generous host. Mind if I sit with you a while?"
 
[member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Jor Kvall"]

She landed about half a mile from where the slug was sighted, 30 minute walk slowed to a crawl as stardust and brigh neared its location. Going prone stardust took glances around the area taking some macrobinocs out and scanned the area before she pulled them down frowning ti herself, looks like it was a game of cat and mouse

brigh I want you to stay here, watch as I fight this monster...ill.bring back a tooh for you

Brigh nodded with a big smile, stardust slowly started towards the asteroid closing her eyes to get a sense of what was living in the area, the raised a foot and stomped hard on the barren ground. Few minutes go by before a massive rumbling started and the space slug shot up from the ground and rose high up into the air before it looked down upon her

let's play

It started towards her, she moved off to the right and inhaled before blowing a massive spew of flames...the creature screamed then hid under the sands

For a whole week this happened, a game of cat and mouse, back and forth between the two...finally on the last day it rose...burn makes all over it, blaster Mark's scoring it, saber marks even up and down it. The creature fell hard kicking up sand, stardust herself had massive scratches in her armor from dodging bad nearly being eaten...she turned panting as she grabbed a tooth and sliced it on half taking it back to her little ship where brigh came running out eyes lit up seeing that promised gift

let's head back brigh

The little girl nodded as stardust handed the tooth her, she boarded and soon was off returning back to the camp as she offloaded taking her buyce off and sighed smelling the great food as she walked slowly. She was quite tired and some drinks and food was the best damn thing she could think of having right now
 

Jor Kvall

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
Harpoons, slugthrowers, blaster pistols, even the odd lightsaber rang true. In the end, the space slug had felt the sleep of the sword. It had taken an entire week to accomplish this deed, and the beast had conducted much malaise during that time, wrecking entire transports and injuring many, including Jor himself. Perched upon his chair now at the head of the massive tent, red, crusted remnants of his battle-sweat still clung to the side of his head and the gap between his armor near the elbow. Yet the wounds were little more than decorations upon his armored frame. In the end, [member="Yasha Mantis"] had joined the battle party, and they as well as [member="Stardust Australis Skirae"] had fed the eagles with its carcass.

Now Mand'alor was before him again, having prized herself from her studies. Beyond her, past the arcing flames of the center of the tent, commotion was brewing as the bones of the beast were being shipped back to the camp. They would make a fine, if massive trophy, and celebration would occur around them tonight. Inside the tent, members of Mantis and Kvall were mingling. Those of the Kvall were fairly easy to pick out; their bright eyes, like heaven-candles, set under fair hair, gave them away. The consequence of thousands of years together could be seen in their features, and it was part of Jor himself, his muted, icy gaze falling upon Yasha. He stood to meet her.

"I should not refuse the company of Mand'alor," He replied, and motioned to the chair next to him. "Welcome."

Jor sat down again, and resumed placing a fist under his chin and looking into the massive, belching hearth at the center of the tent. It was only growing bigger, as the bane of wood rose and nearly threatened to lick the top of the tent. Jor might have to tell his men to stop over-indulging and feeding the flames soon.

"News from the soil analysis has been promising," He said to Yasha, while still looking at the flames. His cold exterior perhaps ainted him as dry, maybe even rude in the presence of Mand'alor, but such was the way of the Kvall. They were a laconic sort, not easily excitable in the face of those who were, regrettably, strangers up to now.
 
“Well met. You probably don't remember the little girl running through Ra's encampment during the Civil War days, do you?” Yasha tilted her braided head and took the offered seat, drinking a long drag of the tihaar in her hand. The merriment was slow to build around them, Mandalorians were still flooding into the fire-laden hall and meals were being doled out.

“We have plenty more experiments to conduct, but I believe the sunflowers will begin seeping radioactive isotopes and heavy metals measurably within days. They’ll grow large, I hope you like the look of them, a forest of the things wouldn’t be remiss. There's an algae bloom, which happens in Sakura every spring, the algae has an alkalizing effect on the water, stripping the acids for a more healthful decontaminant. I might start trials on the sludging ponds, see how the algae reacts to the acidity in the water.” Sipping her tihaar down to the dregs, Mand’alor took a plate of food given her by [member="Ambrose Mantis"], who in the Undying’s day was one of the Vizsla Gurlanin loyalists. Unbeknownst to [member="Jor Kvall"], Ambrose fought near Jor’s side many a time.

“I wonder where my sister [member="Zelen Raxis"] got to? She should be forthcoming. What say you, Ambrose? Have a drink and reminisce of our battles?”

“I can sit… and drink. You have enough battles to speak of your own, Mand'alor. Kvall, what made you return to this rock, when we have so many others?” Ambrose unlatched his buy’ce and set it aside, showing his aging face to the rest of the table.
 

Jor Kvall

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
"I most certainly do remember," Jor replied, canting his head toward [member="Yasha Mantis"]. Back during the days of the civil war, a child amongst the ranks of the warrior camp was hard to miss, or forget. She certainly had been quite the exception to the norm.

As the conversation turned to flora, Jor nodded along. "You wear many hats, Mand'alor, and I'm grateful for your botanist's touch. The sunflowers will do well here on Kalevala. Everything will be placed according to its kind. Kalevala will once again see a diversity of flora that will ensure nothing like this ever happens to this planet again."

It was really quite a simple philosophy, though not always easy to carry out. It meant that there would be no mass agriculture here on the planet; instead, new alternatives would have to be pursued. Then, he turned his attention to Ambrose Mantis' question.

"This dead planet was once all I knew. A reminder of the failures not only of House Kvall, but of the Mandalorian people in general. Wars lost, with ourselves and the Jedi, our homelands raped. Yet we have continued for millenia, never learning lessons from the past. Never rebuilding, never moving towards a truly sustainable future for our people. It's time for that to change."

Now the food was beginning to arrive; its arrival was heralded from far off as the smell of roasted boar traveled to the nostrils of those at the head table, before the meat appeared. Servants and slaves placed nearly two hundred pounds of meat at the head table in front of Jor and Yasha, and the Alor of House Kvall beckoned one of them forth.

"Bring us the mead. The tallest of tankards, one for myself and one for Mand'alor."

As the servant rushed off to comply, Jor once again returned his ice-eyes to Yasha.

"Perhaps later, Mand'alor, we can speak privately about unrelated matters."
 
“It does me well to be remembered, these have been… confusing times.” It was oft a trial to remember the Civil War was seven years prior for all who remained safe from the Netherworld’s clutches. Seven years in the amount of time it took others to breathe. Yasha drank her tihaar until it was gone, setting the mug down with a clang. More of her Clan Mantis aliit walked in, boisterous and singing the tunes they created while fighting in the great First Order Clone Army.

An army of her father, each genetically identical, but vastly morphic in personality. It felt much like having thousands of uncles, and the young Epicanthix didn’t mind at all.

“It was my one great joy, the study and application of botany. Once the sunflowers and terraforming have cleaned enough of the soil, I have a strain of beans and one of peppers which fared well on Manda’yaim after our efforts against the cataclysm’s ash. They are hearty, filled with protein and vitamins, even if their flavour could use seasoning. My engineers are prepared to set up hydroponic growing towers the moment we find a suitable supply of fresh or filterable water. I will not abide my People going hungry, as I will not abide the suffering of this place, without granting it appropriate succour.” [member="Jor Kvall"] spoke on Kalevala’s historical and personal significance. This wasn’t merely a dust ball, or a lost cause. It was part of the lifeblood of their People, and Jor’s dour, yet passionate attitude did not pass Yasha by unseen.

“As long as I am Mand’alor, Manda’yaim will continue being a bedrock of reconstruction and active pursuit of the sustainable. I wish more upon our Mando’ade than the thrill of a firing gun. We should cloy only to ourselves, and supply what our aliit and ad’ike require from our own lands… venturing out only when the opportunities and desires are aligned.”

The boar’s aroma filtered through Yasha’s nostrils, smoky and rich. Leaning back in her seat, Yasha kept an elbow on one arm of her chair and took the offered mead in one hand. She winked at [member="Kaine Australis"], musing for a second on whether the old Boar of Myrkr felt a bit hot around the collar at his namesake animal trussed, gutted and smoked over coals all the day long.

“A toast to Aliit Kvall! A toast to Mando’ade and our planets’ rebirth! May we live long enough to enjoy our holdings, and may our battles never run dry! Oya!” Raising her tankard, Yasha offered to clank hers with Jor, and take a healthy drink of mead.

Whoever made that blessed beverage needed twice the wage they currently received.

“A discussion can be arranged. My thermal tent is beyond yours, toward the shuttles.”

[member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Zelen Raxis"] [member="Stardust Australis Skirae"]
 

Zelen

Aliit ori'shya tal'din
A dead world was a mixed metaphor – for it was inevitably alive with possibilities. Terraforming may be a scientific process, and therefore seen as a sterile act, but along with the chemical reactions and balance of physics and biology and even mathematics, it incorporated emotions and behaviours. And hope as well as passion were foremost of these.

Oddly, Zelen was more comfortable with the former – the hard science of it all – but her upbringing showed her the balance between the two. For, if there was one behaviour she wore proudly on her chest, it was loyalty. To her clan and to the wider family.

So, she sought out her sister. Of late, she’d felt remote for the first time since being taken into the clan. She knew why…she was eager for her verd’goten – but her adopted father had not initiated her rite of passage. Respect meant she did not challenge the fact, but inside she was eager to progress. Maybe this was part of the process? To press the point and not wait for an invitation? Maybe her sister could provide some answers. So, she headed to where the Clan Mantis and Clan Raxis engineers were, knowing Yasha Mantis would not be far away.

[member="Yasha Mantis"]
 
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Just outside the camp, among the other visiting ships, a red-trimmed D5-Mantis descended onto the soil below. The Shereshoy was her name, plainly written on the side in Mando'a letters. From its bowels, a man dressed in black and red Mandalorian armor came out.

He followed the pathway into the festivities. His posture seemed a little stiff and nervous. He had never done well at big gatherings like this, but he promised himself to keep being sociable. He stopped at the enterance, and lifted his helmet off. Black hair, strong features, red bandana. In most respects, he was likely to be confused as another ill-begotten spawn of [member="Strider Garon"] . He took a deep breath and approached the head table where [member="Yasha Mantis"] and [member="Jor Kvall"] sat.

"Su cuy'gar, Mand'alor. Alor Kvall" He had made it his business to at least learn the faces of his hosts. "Torin, Aliit Verd. I hope I've not interrupted. I've come to give congrats on a successful effort."

His voice was raspy and accented, sounding like someone who was born Imperial that eventually began speaking with the accent more common around Concord Dawn. He held his helm under his arm, gently tapping his fingers against the bucket. While his ticks seemed over suspicious, he tried to keep calm. He did not want to have an episode, especially in front of the Infernal herself.
 

Jor Kvall

Ain't found a way to kill me yet
Mead ran aplenty, spilling over Jor's cup as he and [member="Yasha Mantis"] thrust their tankards together. The Alor of House Kvall brought the cup to his lips and tilted his head back, taking a healthy several swigs, leaving nearly half the tankard empty. It was placed back down on the table with a firm thud, and Jor licked the mead from his moustache, the drink already warming him from the inside. Beyond the head table, merriment was already in full swing, as the host had lit the hearth and flames were soaring high and bright, hot enough to warm Jor's face from his own seat.

"I will meet with you later," Jor nodded privately aside to Yasha as the clapping and festivities unfolded around them.

[member="Torin Verd"] drew Jor's attention away from Yasha. He saw Torin approach, his distinguished red and black armor a new sight for the Alor of House Kvall. He did not bear the ancient Mandalorian phenotype like many of the Kvall did, and so his dark features stood out rather noticeably amongst this crowd. His foreign accent certainly did not go unnoticed either, as Jor canted his head quizzically at the newcomer, his blue eyes studying the dark individual before him with interest.

"Thank you. Well met, Torin Verd," Jor responded lowly, nodding his head politely at the Mandalorian before him.

His nervous twitch did not go unnoticed either. The rattling of his finger against his helmet could be heard from where Jor was sitting. Perhaps some were intimidated in the presence of Mand'alor. Leaning forward, Kvall slid a full tankard of mead across the table toward his newest guest.

"Have a drink, Torin Verd. Take the edge off."
 
The loading bay doors open from the aft end of the "Avril" with the loading ramp dropping and kicking up a cloud of dust. Strider with his helmet off and shento cigar dripping out from the left side of his mouth stood at the top taking in the primitive scene of military styled tents, cargo boxes and machinery. Not so far off he could hear the makings of mandalorians enjoying themselves. The old man was not fond of the dessert. The arid breeze bristled against his sun-kissed olive skin, feeling the sand particles hit his scarred face brought him back to the last days of the civil war. He looked off into the endless horizon as if he was staring down the traitorous Mia Munroe and her army. His body ached in phantom pains as he reminisced on the epic basilisk cavalry charge he personally lead from out the Gates of Sundari. He remembered clashing with Mia and then falling from his mount wrecking his body upon the sands below.

The scars we bare........

Strider took a step downwards on the ramp stopping at the sad pathetic whimper her could her from behind him. "You stay!' His voice was firm but not harsh as he commanded his strill to stay aboard the Avril. Not that the six legged canine compainon would not be welcomed into this camp. It was just he did not need her to be running amuck and leaving the ship unprotected.... or worse.... in the hands of his ill tempered R2 unit. Strider had half a mine to sell the droid to the scrappers but he had a soft spot for the unruly.

So he continued onward and towards the merry making. Wasn't long before he found the large tent with the all the beskar clad folk about in different stages of festivity. He would enter through the flaps after taking a drag from his cigar. He could see mand'alor was there. She was styled in her unique armor but even with that, the visual of her in a bikini was all he could see. He may be old, but he was not dead and still had thoughts that lustful men had. She was in conversation with anther vode, one that he could not help but take notice of. It wasn't that the young warrior wore a red bandana like he did. Many soldiers wore them, was smart if you had long hair that needed taming and it was a practical way to keep the sweat from dripping into your eyes. It was a familiar resemblance he had, the long black hair, rugged facial features and the olive skin that reminded Strider of his younger self. Or worse, the army of bastards he donated to the galaxy in a selfless effort to repopulate what was lost. Would it surprise him that this youngin was one of his. No.... no it would not. He was well known for his unquenchable thirst of life's pleasures and especially those of the flesh. He was the Hound of Keldabe, a title coined from his exploits.

Strider marched towards the makeshift bar. Before he could even place an order there was a shot of Tihaar placed before him. "Your credits are no good here Marshal!' The bartender informed extending his arm out in which Strider grasped the forearm in the traditional hand shake. "The honor is mine!" With that the man turned and bustled after his plethora of customers. Strider took the shot and muscled the dark paint thinner down his gullet. This was common, there were many that had served under Strider. Many that had conquered planets under his command in the name of mandalore. He was a warrior legend yet to be lost in history. Not many of his vode have made it to this ripe elderly age and one would just have to glance at the battle scarred visage of the old man to know that such was not his intend. Thought a warriors death would of grasphed him by now, before the truth of age and bodily abuse took its toll. Seemed fate had a sick sense of humor and here he was standing in a tent of mandalorians he could of fathered, grandfathered or even worse......be a great grandfather to.

"Where the fek is Skirata when you need him?" He hissed to himself missing his old friend. At least when he was around he didn't feel that old.

[member="Jor Kvall"] [member="Torin Verd"] [member="Zelen Raxis"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Stardust Australis Skirae"] [member="Kaine Australis"][member="Shia Kryze"]
 
“Yes, I look forward to it.” Yasha modded. Whatever [member="Jor Kvall"] has to say was important, otherwise he wouldn’t have asked.

[member="Zelen Raxis"] was directed easily to her sister’s side by others in their Clan. Yasha rose from her seat, procuring a mug of mead for her darling and intelligent sister, and handing it over.

“Zelen! Have you met Alor Kvall? We fought together in the Civil War... and this is [member="Torin Verd"], Keira, Alkor and Ginnie’s new brother. Have you eaten? Pull up a chair. There’s plenty thanks to Kvall’s hospitality.” Hoping to situate her sister properly, Yasha smiled as Ambrose found a place for Zelen to sit. New to her Aliit, Zelen was yet a mystery in many ways to the young Infernal. She hoped soon to take the time to get to know her properly.

Torin stood before them, his accent clipped in the Imperial way... which... was not too far removed from Yasha’s own Panathan accent. Raised at first exclusively by her Panathan mother to the age of six, Yasha’s fluency in Mando’a came at a later childhood age. The vestige of her first language of Epicant remained in accented form to this day.

“Su cuy’gar, Torin. Thank you for your congratulations. Eat with us, this celebration is for all. We’ve all worked our fingers to the bone, haven’t we vode?!” Yasha clanged her empty mead stein on the table to an uproar of applause and grunts, loud roars of assent.

Seeing [member="Strider Garon"] and [member="Kaine Australis"] in the back, Yasha grinned crookedly out of the side of her mouth and stood with one boot on her chair. It was time to keep the party going. The Infernal’s voice carried through natural projection alone, leading the revellers in an old Mandalorian Drinking Chant.

“Naasad'guur mhi,
Naasad'guur mhi,
Naasad'guur mhi,
Mhi n'ulu.
Mhi Mando'ade,
Kandosii'ade,
Teh Manda'yaim,
Mando'ade!!”

At the conclusion, Yasha saluted with her mug and downed another healthy drink of mead.
 

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