The Mark of a Good Compromise

[Ashin Varanin]

...is that everyone's unhappy.

YAVIN IV​

​

Port Shardrock had never seen this much traffic, or the Clan convocation hall this many visitors. Ship captains; witches and Vahla priests; buire of minor houses within Clan Rekali; representatives from colonies and tiny artificial planets in the Hard Roil; corporate executives; beskarsmiths, shipwrights, mining bosses. Every one of them had the last name of Rekali. Every one of them had a different opinion. No matter what decision Alec made, she was going to irritate a sizeable fraction of them. But the decision did come down to her, even if she was only a quarter Vahla, even if she didn't spent much time in traditional Mando space, even if she wasn't a Force-user or Dathomiri-trained. She was Ember's heir, and the wupiupi stopped with her.

So naturally, all eyes were on her.

"Here's how we're gonna handle these decisions," she said from the end of the long, long table. "We've all got perspectives we need to hear, so we're gonna run this like a seminar. I've whipped up a series of questions that we need to cover." She tapped a control, and holoprojectors displayed the questions at intervals all down the table. "We're gonna cover all of these if it takes all night, and we're gonna stick with one question at a time. No jumping around if we can help it. And no talking over each other, either. You have something to say on a question, you put up a hand and I add you to a list in order of when you put up your hand. Someone says something that's just begging for a response, you put up two fingers, that's hot pursuit, and I let you jump in when they're done talking -- you get to skip the queue, but keep it short. It works a lot better and more smoothly than it sounds, trust me.

"All right, question one: Are we too tied down by territory? This isn't one of the biggest issues we have to cover, but I want it at the forefront of our minds while we're talking about the later questions. And...go."

Half a dozen beskar-gauntleted hands went up. Alec started writing down names.

"Looks like...Cousin Oren, you were first. Talk at us."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Oren nodded and stood. "Thank you, aliit'buir," he growled, looking up and down the long table. "My house came from Tash-Taral; we left our home and our territory to join the Rekali Clan. But I think we've carved out a firm hold on our territory, we've reaped the rewards, and we should only give it up for something better. We should get and maintain the flexibility to move if we want to move. We have mobile miniature planets, trade stations, monitoring stations; we need a few other things, like better mining and manufacturing ships, to seize our mobility potential. Say we find our Kathol territories more hospitable. We should be able to move out there regardless of what we have here. Or any other piece of space we want -- we should take it and call it home. Home is family, not land or structures. Home is allegiance, and a cause: our survival, our gain, our security, our advantage against our enemies. None of that requires us to tie ourselves down."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"Many of you don't know me; I'm Cousin Vesta. I've...seen things. Deadly things in the dark between stars and in the barrows under the temples on this very moon and I know-" She stopped for breath, just a gasp. "I know we need to be ready to reposition at a moment's notice. We need the flexibility to make any choice that's presented to us, and take any option we feel we need to take. We already have more expertise at moving through and colonizing hostile space than anyone in the galaxy. We live in the Hard Roil and the Indrexu Spiral and the Denarii Nebula and the Kathol Rift. Those are four regions generally considered impassible, and we've reaped the profits. If we can do that, we can go anywhere, live anywhere. Besides, the farther away from Yavin Four we are, the better. This place has seen too many holocausts and birthed too many slumbering monsters. We'd be right to leave it, just as we were right to leave Vjun -- the attrition rates from acquired mental illness alone, the echo of genocide dribbling through centuries-"

She cut herself off, bit her lip, and tucked her hood down farther over her face.

"I say what many of you think. This place has been a home of convenience. I know most of you don't wish to just up and leave the Yavin system, but we need to have the ability to do it. This system is and always will be a target. We spend so much time isolating and responding to incursions, trespassing, grave robbing -- we have an entire passport visa program just to manage the demand for Yavin -- we waste too much time on this little piece of grassy, slimy dirt. It's a target-"

She bit her tongue and stayed silent this time.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"Coward," someone hissed. Alec raised a hand for silence, and pointed to the next on the list, a witch.

"Dathomir is our home," she said, "and the Witchmasters are based there. They're not an ally to neglect. I know we'll be discussing them later. Nevertheless, they're relevant to the discussion of territory. Allies and enemies and potential problems both tie us down and push us elsewhere. Would we be as firmly on the side of the Alor'e Council if our entrenched territory was elsewhere, or our nearest allies? Or would we be more interested in the Reclaimer? Isley Verd is one of us, a witch as well as a Mandalorian, and the Mandalorian territories have stagnated due to ego-"

Impassioned voices rose. Alec bashed her gauntleted fist on the table and pointed to one who'd raised two fingers: it happened to be Oren.

"We can discuss Verd and the Witchmasters later," said Oren. "We're talking about territory. Our Witches, you from Shardrock, you all have offworld ties, even origins. You could move like I did. Would it put your minds at ease to bring the Refuge along, and keep it in your care? If circumstances took us away from Dathomir and Yavin, that is. Much thought has gone into making the Refuge moveable in an emergency. It remains our most important fixed, ground-based asset, on any world. If we want to ensure our mobility, the Refuge is the place to start."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"What Oren Beorn says is true," said Vesta once a dozen others had taken their turn to speak for and against fixed territory. She licked her lips nervously. "The Refuge on Dathomir is a strong point, but drop a rock from orbit and anything on a planet will die without fail. The same goes for the vulnerabilities of our few colonies in the Roil. Our future lies in space, away from vulnerable gravity wells. We have a self-sufficient vertical supply chain. We should strengthen it, and also prepare defenses against starweirds."

Many faces and buy'ce turned toward her.

She raised her hands. "I'm just saying... starweirds."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

"All right, sounds like it's time for the second question. To what extent should we seek new territory based on the locations of our allies, like the Witchmasters, the Kathol Outback, and the Alor'e Council, as well as clients like the Silver Sanctum Coalition?" Hands went up at once.

"You're asking whether we would do what Verd did, aren't you,aliit'buir?" said one starship captain. "Set up shop somewhere new and go it alone."

"Our allegiance is a later question. We're talking principles and possibilities here. Only a handful of the recently forfeited Mandalorian worlds really have anything to do with Mandalorians at all. And of those, when was the last time any of you visited or cared about Junction or Concord Dawn? Or Manda'yaim, for that matter?" She shrugged. "Not that we follow the resol'nare any less, but nothing in there says we need to love the planets that the Ordos and Skiratas love. Just saying."

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Vesta the Coward"] | [member="Alec Rekali"] | [member="Oren Beorn Rekali"]

Sam had been silent for the most part.

This was Alec’s show and the last thing he wanted to do was undermine her authority. He was Ember’s younger brother, some still remarked on their uncanny resemblance and in his prime he had been one of the more prevalent warriors fighting against the Sith. All of this meant that some, few, but some might have looked upon him for guidance.

That was the last thing he wanted to foster.

"Vesta's right- if I may, cousin?" Once he got the go-ahead he continued. These people were all warriors in one way or the other, their reputation sealed in blood, but that also meant they had little in the way of Vesta’s experience.

“Starweirds are a big issue, especially considering a non-marginal portion of us are force sensitive in one way or the other.”

Some of them seemed confused.

“They… especially like to kill force sensitives. Will literally ignore anything else, if they are in range." Sam clarified, before nodding to Vesta. "So it’s definitely something to look out for. Good catch.”

 

[Ashin Varanin]

At his turn, Oren scratched his nose and stood again. "All questions of starweirds aside, I've talked with a lot of you who think that our nebula skills can translate to even more hazardous and profitable regions. The Chiloon Rift, for example. It's now neutral, and our new aliit'buir spent years in there. Between her and the Calypho Compasses, I think we could do very well there.

"That's one example. Frankly, sections of the Silver Sanctum Coalition could stand to have more exploration on our part. Our work in the Indrexu Spiral could expand. Cousin Barth, just last week you were telling me about the new mineral sources you'd found. Or what about this Shri-Tal place? Multiple habitable planets and moons, rare minerals and species, several sentient cultures. Stay or move on, we should consider expanding there. Even if Sasori has a choke hold on the place. Or, perhaps, especially.

"First steps," he added drily, "should include a thorough survey for spaceborne threats. Including starweirds."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Vesta shivered. "The Blackwing virus malingers in the Asobi system, on the moon Orsonian, where black Murakami orchids sing in soil culled from undead flying horned equines. But," she admitted reluctantly, "the planetary quarantine procedures are acceptable. And we already have a relationship with the Coalition's leaders. The Asobi system could be a profitable and, above all, secure place to rest and work while this civil war thing blows over."

At various grumbles , Vesta withdraw farther into her hood. "We've nearly always been neutral in conflicts of Mandalorian against Mandalorian. Why should we change that? Why take sides in a conflict that boils down to the ego and beliefs of a handful of people on either side? Most of us hate the Sith, plenty of us hate the Republic; why, exactly, is everyone so eager to fight a three -front war?" She refocused on Alec and seemed to shrink. "I know I'm off topic but it had to be said. This potential war is stupid and I won't fight in it."

 

[Quietus]

Get us some grub, he'd said and thrust a small handfull of credit chits into her palm, but none of that green stuff for me.

Three years would teach any old dog to mind his words.

And no smokes.

Fennec plied the local stops, learned enough by now that you didn't use sticky fingers in Rekali space. It was disrespectful and stupid and typically landed you a bloody lip, a black eye, a broken nose - sometimes all three, depending on the circumstance and how drunk the vendor was. She'd had her run-ins with the native Guffs, met some bigwigs, but mostly did what she had always been known to do: kept to herself.

[member="Samael Rekali"] picked up the spacerat three years ago and no one batted an eye or paid much attention then. Today they simply knew her as Sam's Kid. She didn't talk, didn't socialize, rarely smiled, only sometimes acknowledged other people...when she had to. She'd fixed enough ships, droids and electronics to make a small name for herself, so they'd come to accept her strangeness as the norm. Passing a hastily scribbled note over the counter to make a meal order was for both parties nothing out of the ordinary. Even when it asked for vegetarian alternatives.

Three years hadn't kicked the dietary habit, but it had seen the procurement of a few others. An offered chit was enough to glean a smoke off a local. Fennec lit up and surrounded herself with smog. She silently haggled with an old witch for a bag of dried Kelp of Manaan. Old Voodoo said it cured headaches and thinned the blood; Fen found it helped with her rampant allergies. That and local honey, of which she purchased a quart.

Ankarres Honey. She stared at a small gleaming jar full of liquid gold. Not local, said the witch, Lightside healing properties. Very rare. Very expensive. Too expensive for Urchins.

Moving along. She picked up some scrap and spare circuitry parts to fix the comm console on the ship. Traded in Sam's old electric razor - the man hadn't used it in months, he'd never miss it. A quick jaunt back to the grouchy witch to ply some fruit before the smoke was all but gone. Fennec headed back towards the meeting, squashing the used butt into the dirt beneath her heel. Her intrusion to the discussion was quiet and quick for the diminutive girl who some referred to as Mouse. She took up the empty seat next to Sam, passing him his favorite variety of local fare before untangling a length of dried Kelp and biting into it like a slimjim.

Chewing, she looked to the old man for him to fill her in while the others discussed.

 

[Falcon Rekali]

The young woman that now stood as aliit'buir, though his niece, was no child. Why, she had done and seen as much as he had, if not more, and her years numbered perhaps less than half of his own. He mused on the thought, before it loped on to thoughts of his own children - Mira, Aton, and Rhyen - and what experiences they had borne in their relatively short lives, what ties they had and how firm or not they were, to Dathomir and Yavin IV. He had adopted these places as his own, when folded into the Clan and being bonded to Aaralyn, but the place that had been his home for most of forty years of his life was half a galaxy away. Even then, he didn't feel a strand of attachment to it that was any stronger than where he was now, and there was no love for the traditional Mandalorian worlds, whatsoever.

"Niece," he indicated with a nod to [member="Alec Rekali"] once his turn came, after having been silent and contemplative while others made their pleasure or displeasure with the turns of conversation known; he rose from where he sat, "brothers, sisters, cousins," and indicated other faces he knew well in turn - [member="Samael Rekali"] being one, "I find the opportunity to expand into the aforementioned territories to be exciting for the cultures they hold - I was a xenoanthropologist and archaeologist by trade, once - and for the potential and opportunity to further the growth and strength of the clan; like it or not, conflict has an uncanny habit of cropping up at what seems to be the whims of some chaotic deity, and pulling in...." it stopped there, and he got to the point, his hand going to idly toying with his late wife's pendant where it hung around his neck - a habit he'd formed in coping with the long stretch of grief that had once threatened to consume him entirely - at the memory of those that had already been lost. "...for the clan to remain a going concern as close to in perpetuity as possible, we should be setting up shop in as many of these challenging territories as we can."

Though they were almost all grown, he had his children to think about, and... if he were so blessed to live so long, grandchildren.

"Presumably, this would make us as a group not only harder to kill, but harder to find."

 

[Asher]

No, as far as Aton was concerned the rest of the clan was more capable than him when it came to these talks and discussions. As it were he was actually pretty content with what he had. The worst of his mother’s passing had come and gone, and he hadn’t even taken to the bottle so he always had that going for him. Life around the Agricultural Corps was hardly the life he would see himself working throughout. He enjoyed travelling the stars far too much for that. In the end it was a steady source of income and little else. Nobody ever wanted to remain a farmer boy throughout their life.

“There is no point in moving all of us.” The boy said and let go of his waist. “We have a good setup, good people around who wants to stay. Why not let them? Let those who want to seek the Kathol Outback seek the Outback and those who want to hug trees with the Silvers hug trees with the Silvers.”

“As far as I am concerned we are one of the more well-liked, successful -- and handsome -- clans around. We could easily establish our presence on another planet. Maybe something with nice beaches, maybe somewhere that isn’t a big jungle or a swamp.” Shrug felt obligatory here and Aton complied. “I am fine with whatever we decide but, you know, these are important things to keep in mind. To a degree at least.”

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Fennec"] | [member="Aton Rekali"] | [member="Falcon Gyndar"] | [member="Oren Beorn Rekali"]

Sam listened quietly for the rest of the group to speak up when their turn came, adding one point of contention against another, piling up arguments that supported their views and underlined why they were right. It was civil, for all intents and purposes.

No broken bones yet, no bruised egos needed mending in a circle.

It almost made the old man grin that they managed to keep somewhat of a level-head throughout the talks, even while they were revolving such far-reaching disputes.

“Thanks.” Rekali mumbled softly as Fen sat down next to him. The little girl was a constant companion to him by this point in time, even when she wasn’t there… you still had the feeling she could be there, like a shadow that sometimes evaporated away in the face of the sun, but always returned again.

Eventually.

“The usual arguments, you didn’t miss much.” The murmur continued at that same soft tone. He would have been quiet, but they were farther down the row with most of the heated conversations going down at the front.

So they weren’t taking up too much attention.

“Some of ‘em want us to leave, Vesta is the solid rock of caution she always been, others want us to stay - Witches and some of the Vahla cousins, as ya might expect.” Sam shrugged. “Could go either way yet.”

Then he munched on his jerky with sauce, while raising his arm a fraction so Alec saw he wanted to add something once his food was done.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Samael Rekali"] [member="Aton Rekali"] [member="Falcon Gyndar"] @Fennec

"A lot of competing but compatible perspectives here, sounds like," said Alec. "We're obviously not going to find a perfect solution today, so let's table that and work toward finding more and better places to rest our heads. Final word on the topic goes to Great Uncle Samael. After he's talked, we're moving on to the next question, and it's a big one.

"Nearly all members of the clan follow the resol'nare, or at least pay lip service to it. We're a Witch clan, we're a Vahla clan, we're something entirely new, but we're also a Mandalorian clan, and this is a Mandalorian question. It's a question that, frankly, the Alor'e Council members can't answer for themselves or their clans, though they should. It's a question I have strong feelings about, but I'm open-minded on this one, and the question's this:

"How do we decide who to follow as mand'alor? What are our criteria as a clan? Personal achievements? Future versus past accomplishments? Strategic brilliance? Fleet commanders, grand strategists -- or whoever wins a personal duel, or a series of them? I don't care who or how other clans choose or reject a mand'alor. All that matters to me is that Clan Rekali has a firm idea of what criteria we use to acknowledge and follow, or reject, a wartime leader." She stood and planted her gauntlets on the table, looking down it at dozens of faces, some helmeted, some not. "We've gotten by just fine without a mand'alor for a long time now, but right this minute, this is the main issue of contention between the Mandalorian clans. They're all deciding how to acknowledge or reject a mand'alor based on their own criteria, or none at all. It's important to our integrity, though, that we decide this question -- these criteria -- without reference to which of our friends are friendliest. Independent of the political scene, we have to choose, together, if and how and when we acknowledge a mand'alor. What process, if any? What tests, if any?"

She sat down. "Vode, you all have the floor."

 

[Anija Betna]

[member="Samael Rekali"] [member="Alec Rekali"] [member="Aton Rekali"] [member="Falcon Rekali"] [member="Fennec"] [member="Vesta the Coward"] [member="Oren Rekali"]


She had wandered in during the initial discussion. Quietly, she found a seat near Falcon and slid into it with a nod. She knew a great many of the Rekalis by sight, though there were also many she didn't know. She'd caught most of what Alec had said on the subject of Mand'alor. And she had to admit to having mixed feelings on the subject. For the past year or so, the Clans had been getting along just fine without a Mand'alor. Sure, they had their own disagreements, but for the most part, the Alor'e Council could come to a consensus when needed.

A frown crossed her face for a moment as she considered what Alec had said. The topic was a serious one. One which each clan would have to consider for itself, given what had transpired at the meeting of the Alor'e. When she'd considered a moment longer, she raised her hand and waited for Alec to nod before she spoke. "Most of you don't know me. I am Anija Betna. I was at one point, one of Ember's students. His last, to be exact. But that's beside the point. I feel that perhaps making sure that the person has the best interests of the Mandalorian people in mind. To work together, we need to be unified. And right now as a people, we are fractured. Though, how to ensure that, I am not clear.." She shrugged and sat back down.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Anija Betna"] [member="Samael Rekali"] [member="Aton Rekali"] [member="Falcon Rekali"] [member="Fennec"]

Vesta nodded vigorously -- "Yes yes yes" -- then shook her head. "But no. Pick any three people in this room, ask them what the best interests of the Mandalorians are, and you'll get three different, maybe incompatible answers. You could make a case that it's in the Mandalorians' best interests to conquer everything in sight, or withdraw to just Manda'yaim, or screw the territory and go where the wind takes us, or fight the Sith, or ally with them, or fight the Republic, or ally with them, or make more decisions at the clan level, or less for more unity. A leader's decisions don't always line up with what the people want, but before we say 'best interests', we should all know, all of us, what we think those best interests are. Are you really ready to answer to someone who has a different idea of what those best interests are than you do? I doubt it.

"If we're talking about putting the needs and goals and welfare of all Mandalorians before private interests -- corporations or even clan -- then that fits. The rest of it needs to be...whittled...down." Vesta trailed off as she realized she'd just contradicted a member of the Alor'e Council. She retreated further into her hood and her chair.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

Something of an awkward silence fell. After a good ten seconds, Oren put up two fingers and got recognized.

"It seems to me," said the Vahla desertwitch, "that the best interests of the Mandalorians change constantly, depending on the situation. So it follows that a Mand'alor who has the Mandalorian people's best interests at heart will be responsive. Listen more, talk less. Get the facts before making a call." He shrugged. "I suppose that means he will leave more power in the hands of the Clans, and take less power for himself unless necessary. I'm a Vahla; I know cults of personality. I see little of value in that model. And though Ember Rekali is like a brother to me, I think his absence shifts us toward collective effort and initiative, and away from blind following. This is not to say that I want Cousin Alec to be anything less than a take-charge aliit'buir. The final decision on these matters will be hers, and when time is a priority -- when situations demand quick choices and instant action -- I will follow her without fail. But in this instance she's done well by consulting us, getting our perspectives. I would only respect a Mand'alor who followed the same principles. So what is the best interests of the Mandalorians? Ask the gorram Mandalorians. Constantly." Oren pounded a fist on the table. "We are a consensus of free people. We are not blind followers."

 

[Quietus]

Wasn't much to be said by the one who never said a thing.

Fennec chewed quietly on her kelp, reaching to dig a stubborn fleck from between curiously sharp teeth, grey eyes the color of aged durasteel cast a leery glance from one face to the next. She didn't much have a preference as to where they went. Travel was a way of life and she'd never known what it felt like to be a homebody. The ship was home. The void of space, home. The view of starflecks and hyperspace lines the greatest form of comfort she'd ever come to recognize.

Wherever the old man went, so would she, until he couldn't anymore.

[member="Samael Rekali"]

 

[Arage Bao]

[member="Alec Rekali"] | [member="Aton Rekali"] | [member="Falcon Rekali"] | [member="Fennec"]

"What do you mean, he didn’t show?"
"Just as I said: he wasn’t there."

Elijah seemed tired. It was a rare occasion for him to appear without his helmet, but there he was - grizzled beard, sharp glint in the eyes and that permanent frown marring his expression downward.

They were in the same room as a week ago and it was slowly filling up with people again.

A few of the vod were already with Eli, half a circle with him leaning against the wall, and insistently trying to get more details from him. But the cousin didn’t seem to have much more words to share.

"His son was there… think the sister too, about it besides Monroe."
"Monroe? Why was she there?"

Sam was getting tired of the questioning round.

"Enough. Give the man some room. When everyone’s here we will figure out where we stand, what to do." A nod was send to Eli, before leaning back against his seat and waiting for Alec, Falcon and most importantly Fen to arrive. The last one always had her way with keeping his nerves steady.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

A COUPLE OF WEEKS AFTER THE FIRST MEETING
SHORTLY AFTER THE DEATH OF EMBER REKALI

Ship captains, station commanders, colony leaders, witch elders, corporate types -- senior Clan Rekali personnel and their representatives crowded the room. Turnout was significantly higher now than it had been in the first meeting. Though Ember Rekali had retired as Aliit'buir shortly before his death, that made little difference to how much his death had impacted the far-flung Clan. Feelings were conflicted, to say the least. On the way to the arched stone meeting room, Alec had broken up a fight between a witch and a Vahla, both adopted cousins, neither in Mandalorian armour.

Ember Rekali had been Mandalorian, Dathomiri, and Vahla. He'd been the grafter's glue that bound the three roots of the tree together. It didn't take a genius to see that, without him, Clan Rekali faced an existential threat.

So Alec had armoured up. She'd painted Dathomiri and Vahla symbols on her armour, in imitation of her grandfather's beskar'gam, recovered in pieces from Manda'yaim's orbit. She'd had that beskar, his armour, melted down and recast.

Clan Rekali lived by symbols. Mandalorian, Dathomiri, and Vahla iconography competed. The Clan, in a real sense, had no unifying symbol, though many Clanspeople had tried, blending several with varying success.

As people filed in and took their seats, Alec stood and gestured at a series of small wooden boxes all down the long table. "Cousins, welcome. If you'd all open the boxes and take what's inside?"

The boxes held rows of beskar signet rings.

Through her helmet visor, Alec watched their faces, as many of them as she could see. "Clan Rekali has had a lot of symbols, followed a lot of images and ideas. I think we've all seen some good tries at mixing Vahla, Witch and Mando marks. I see a lot of'em in this room; I'm even wearing a few of'em. But all of'em could be said to swing one way or another. So in keeping with our discussion last time around, about cutting roots and moving where we need to go, I had these done up, hand-cast from my grandfather's armour."

Each ring bore a stylized 'resh', a jagged acute angle, the first letter in the name Rekali as written in Basic.

"Whatever we decide to do about my grandfather's death, we do it as one. Now, I've already dispatched a stealth ship and an experienced investigator to Mandalorian Empire territory to look into some of the more disturbing possibilities. As of now, though, on balance it looks like my grandfather's death was genuinely the work of a rogue agent. I met with Gray Raxis, aliit'buir of Clan Raxis -- the man who insulted us the day my grandfather died. He clarified that he was referring only to the Alor'e Council and misspoke in the heat of the moment. He apologized to Clan Rekali. That's one less reason to consider war. I intend to evaluate every reason there is, and from there, we make a decision.

"Now take a ring, and speak."

[member="Aton Rekali"] [member="Falcon Rekali"] [member="Samael Rekali"] @Fennec