“I’ll take this armour off and show you how well I can fight without it, Aruetii.” Yasha snapped, staggering back into a defensive stance. The gurlanins instantly bristled. Ambrose bore down with his massive canines bared.
“Is she trying to insult us further?” Tuulu growled, scampering between [member="Alexandra Feanor"] and Yasha. “Calling the Infernal Jetiise-like… it’s sick.”
“Open your nose, Tuulu. Sniff her again. The woman’s a Master or I’m a pup. Masters are used to disseminating knowledge like old Alor’e around the hunting fires.” Ambrose kept by Yasha’s side, his snout nodding for the younger Gurlanin to take a deeper sniff of the air around the Jedi Master. Tuulu’s ears pricked down in adolescent loss of pride. He padded achingly slow closer to Alex and sniffed, the air stinging his nostrils. “Aruetiise always try and explain themselves. Liken us to them. Listen deeper, pup. There’s always levels to these beasts.”
Yasha put her hand on Ambrose’s shoulders, giving the elder gurlanin a scratch. “It is not the Vode’s place to think as I do, Alex. I am Mand’alor out of duty, not ambition. Ra gave me the mission of watching over his Vode. I was supposed to have time to live a good life then, once his mission was over, but Manda called him too quickly. The Vode live as they do. But I can never have that freedom. Not while I do my duty to a long dead old man. My protectors would never let me live it down.” Reaching into Ambrose’s fur, Yasha sighed and clucked her tongue to comfort him.
“I know the Field of Blades well. I spent many years in constant battle there, watching Rekali feast off the souls of dar’jetiise. He took my mother and brother’s soul in, when I left the Netherworld. There’s a cabin, not far. It’s on a calm lake. Manda is not part of the Netherworld, nor do all Mandalorians go to the Chaos when we die. The faithful go to Manda. It is not part of the Chaos.” [member="Ginnie Dib"] and her riduur knew Manda, for Ginnie was part of that collective consciousness in her eternity. While Ginnie was pulled away from it, she emerged from Mandalore reborn, and reaffirmed what Yasha had to believe.
The Manda was truth, and separate from this mystic succour of the Force. Whether Dead to the Force, or rife with it, all vode who followed the Mandalorian ways, and allowed the old gods to reign in their lives joined the collective oversoul. All, not part.
It had to be.
“Forty years! How can you be that old!? I’m only twenty-five!” Alex having experience with Darth Carnifex was an unexpected boon. It seemed to relax her, to give Yasha more space to speak with one who understood.
“All my life, I’d known Darth Carnifex as a vicious, but kindly patron. He was the reason Mama and I kept fighting for a way out of the Netherworld, when I was a child. She saw him escape and knew it could be done. He discovered me at the Undying’s side, and I recognized him. Something in the Soul, that although I was Force Dead, I could feel. He offered aide, a listening ear and fatherly gaze when mine were gone. Anything I asked of him was given to me. When I challenged him, when I fought for Mandalorian independence, and went to take this Mantle, he capitulated. Knelt at my feet and said, ‘thy will be done’. All I knew of the Jetiise was the Republic’s massacre at Roche. I was shot at, thrown about, ridiculed. We have only known Jetiise to be duplicitous, dishonest supplicants to a false deity. They claim peace, but fire willingly on civilians. They claim the moral high ground, but destroy hospitals, murder our people. Those who destroyed Mandalore with their volcanic bomb claimed themselves as Jedi, slaughtering millions.
When I was bearing my daughter, the Jetiise, knowing full well what my Mandalorians were there to do, prevented them from rescuing me. Jetiise are the reason my first husband is dead. They are the reason my daughter perished four days after a premature birth, because I was too wounded to push.
It wasn’t the Jetiise, who saved Adara’s life. It was Kaine Australis… and Kaine Zambrano. You are the first Jedi I have met, who hasn’t immediately attempted my death, Alexandra Feanor. The very first one.
And Carnifex was one who acted in patience. He withheld justice for his son’s murder in my hall. After multiple attacks from my People, me spitting in his face when he asked for my aide, he continuously turned the other cheek. How could the man who rescued my daughter from harm on a whisper in the Galaxy, because a child was scared… who refused to harm us, who welcomed me constantly as an equal, when all others refused to see me at all… how could he be this vast evil?” The formative moment in Yasha Cadera’s life, was not the betrayal of parents, or death of her family. It was neither the meeting of lovers, or the births of her children Adara and Reyn. It was staring into the eyes of the Dark Lord, and realizing absolutely that nothing she could say or do would shift his lethal intent. The powerlessness of that moment lingered in her spine. Settled in the heels of her feet like spurs to keep her moving.
“His atrocities became known to me. I travelled to Ithor, and under the supervision of their holy priesthood, my soul was made whole again.”
Yasha leaned against a tree, catching her breath as she stared outward. “I felt the Dark for the first time on Er’kit. It hit me so hard I couldn’t breathe, this swelling ocean of black… so I beat in his face and it didn’t stop. His brain matter clung to my beskar’gam and it barely slowed him. The Force was a raging ocean beset by tectonic plagues, overcoming the borders of land to sweep all consciousness down into its’ brine. I would not feel that again for any world.”
Pushing off against the tree trunk, Yasha nodded to keep moving. Forward, one foot at a time.
“If your way is different, I would experience it for myself and come to my own judgement. I would take your healing… any chance it’s close?” Yasha gave a sly smirk, stumbling forward.