The Mark of a Good Compromise

[Quietus]

Grime. A grime covered Urchin, that's what appeared after Alec finished speaking. This week the fourth completed Podder had made its way into the hands of the buyer and Fen had just finished replacing the gear-shift. Faulty pieces weren't exactly unexpected - the majority of what she worked with to build from was used hard for long past its expiration. Luckily enough [member="Samael Rekali"] had salvaged a junked speeder from the jungle just the day before.

Amazing what you could find on old overgrown trails.

Wiping sweat from her face on the sleeve of her too-big shirt, Fen plopped down into the seat next to Sam. He was fiddling with a box and she watched with curious grey eyes as he pulled out a ring. Made from Ember Rekali's armor. Beskar. She'd only met the old man once - though met was putting it strongly. At the time she'd been nothing more than Sam's shadow, it was possible Ember hadn't even seen her let alone learned her name.

The Force mingled along the girl's mechanical left arm and lifted the crudely-constructed contraption to grasp pincers at the ring in his hand. She held it up to inspect before unceremoniously knocking it against the table. It left a dent. Shrug. The ring fell deposited back into Sam's palm without further gesture or a single scratch. That's good Beskar.

[member="Alec Rekali"]

 

[Caspian Rekali]

"Vod, he's gone. Grandfathers gone."

"Alec, what do you mean he's gone? He-"

"He's dead, Caspian. They killed him. Terrorists killed our grandfather."

They killed him.

Nothing could've prepared him for the day when [member="Alec Rekali"] had come to him in Port Shardrock, he didn't even know what had happened at the time but the look on his sisters face made his heart sink, the grief she held behead her eyes. All it took was those five cursed words and his entire world shattered into a million pieces all at once. There were many things he could withstand, many things he could fight through but family loss, and the loss of such close family he couldn't. He lost his father, his grandmother, several of his aunts and uncles fighting the Sith. He lost yet another one of his aunts [member="Aaralyn Rekali"] when she was vented out into space by a Republic she swore to her dying breath she would defend. Some he wasn't old enough to grieve for and others he was, but each time it never got any easier.

He couldn't handle Ember's death.

Caspian took off into the jungle that day free-running through the jungles as fast as he could, his entire world was caving in around him and he'd go to the one place he knew he could be alone. The Lost City that his grandfather had brought him to so many times before, the place they spent so much time at. It was here that he learned, trained, and pushed himself both in mind and body to get to the next level, his progress shepherded by the Warlock's keen eye and firm hand, guiding his grandson. But even as he got there he couldn't bear to sit around and see ghosts of memories past, of great flashbacks of sparring, training. It was as if a part of him wanted to act like a young boy and just hide and hope everything is just a dream, while the other half was so filled with anger and rage he was ready to kill anyone and everyone who stood in his way of vengeance.

Caspian was somewhere lost in the middle in a place he was never comfortable being, so he bottled it all up and tossed it into the closet of his mind. He began training intensively to take it off his mind, pushing his body to the limits and stopping when he could no longer go any more for that day. Sleep came in small periods of one to two hours, and food tasted like ash in the mouth but he just kept running the same gauntlets until his legs gave out, kept lifting and working until his arms gave out and he couldn't breath. It was all he could do to force so much stress on his body that maybe he would forget about everything but it only stayed fresh on his mind. While his sister had made attempts to comfort a brother who was working his hardest to drive himself deeper into the dirt, he rebuffed her or just wouldn't talk to his sister.

She brought him a special signet ring made out of their grandfathers armor remains recovered after his death, reforged and embroidered with the "R" of their family name. The more he held it the more memories came to the surface, and the more he had to bottle up in the fringes of his mind. He tossed it down and bid her goodbye with about as much affection as two strangers on a spaceport terminal. But one thing did stick from that meeting of theirs. She was having another meeting of the clan in the next day or so, and she wanted him to be there. He didn't plan on going initially and wanted to stay buried deep in the Lost City, Caspian was overworked, exhausted, and tired from lack of sleep. But after collapsing hours later from running something happened that changed his mind. He saw Ember standing over him with a look of disappointment on his face. "While you bury your head and work yourself to death out here, your leaving your sister and your family alone out there." Ember told him.

He was abandoning his sister who was just as broken as he was, except she was the one everyone now looked to as leader of both Clan Rekali and the company the clan owned. Ember was right even in death the man still taught him, he couldn't just abandon his family out here. Caspian cleaned himself up, ate and slept, and the next day arrived back in Port Shardrock wearing his full Ori'ramikade Eukgar'gam covered with vahla, dathomiri witch, and mando'a symbols, as well as his signet ring. He stood just inside of the chamber amidst the faces so that his sister didn't see him in the sea, and only stepped up after she bid them to speak.

Caspian walked out into the open towards his sister and spoke "Our grandfather treated Manda'lore [member="Isley Verd"] like family. He respected him, trusted him. I don't believe we should go to war, they didn't do this. Rather we should work with them to find and bring to justice his killer."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

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

[member="Caspian Rekali"]'s statement surprised and pleased Alec. Isley was her mother's brother, but Alec and Caspian had only shared a father; Isley was Alec's family far more than Caspian's. Still, Isley had been nothing more to Ember than the brother of his oldest son's ex-wife, and yet Ember had considered Isley family too. Maybe it came down to how much Caspian had idolized their grandfather. Maybe Caspian was trying to support her. Or maybe, just maybe, he really did think of his sister's uncle as family. The more she thought of it, the more she figured the latter had to do with it. She nodded once to her brother, the only real acknowledgement she could muster just now without seeming to weigh in on the debate.

Other voices took up the topic, back and forth on the matter of the Mandalorian Empire. Ship captains, witch elders, senior clan paper-pushers -- a lot of disparate perspectives. One such perspective, one that seemed to stick in the teeth of everyone present, came from a Dathomiri cousin.

"The Mandalorian Empire and the United Clans have different opinions on magic," said the cousin, toying with a bone charm. "Within the United Clans, there is wary tolerance, and that will decrease now that Ember is gone. And many within the United Clans focus on ysalamiri, or even hate and distrust Force-magicians outright. Within the Empire, their Mand'alor is a witch. Aliit'buir, your grandfather understood that the clan faced alienation -- so many of us are Dathomiri, or Vahla, or learned from the Jedi neighbours of Port Shardrock. With Isley Verd's defection and Ember's death, Dathomir is something of an unknown quantity to many Mandalorians. Clan Rekali is considered...other. Dubious."

Fingers snapped. It took a long moment for Alec to realize they were hers, and that everyone all down the long table was staring at her.

"There's value in those questions," said Alec. "Thanks, Cousin. I think I've got a handy way we can address some of them, and some of the other points we've covered. I was going to save this for later, but I think now's as good a time as any." She mumbled into her wrist comm. At the other end of the long stone hall, a door opened behind an empty chair. As the door opened, an armored figure came into view. Various Rekalis flinched, muttered, leaned forward, hissed-

"My uncle [member="Isley Verd"], called Mand'alor the Reclaimer, is here to answer our questions about what he and his people stand for."

 

[Darth Metus]

It felt...strange...to walk among them.

The kin of Ember Rekali eyed the Mandalorian with mixed expressions: surprise being chief amongst them. That was to be expected, as [member="Alec Rekali"] had played an interesting card. For how long Isley had been awaiting this summons was unknown, but in he strode - buy'ce tucked underneath his arm. Head held high, the Mand'alor of the Mandalorian Empire came to a halt at the far side of the table.

"Greetings, Alor Rekali." he began, regarding her with a nod and smile. "What questions would you ask of me?"

His gaze did not leave her face.

[member="Alec Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

"I'll ask my questions in due time, ba'vodu. You're here because my cousins have questions. All down this table are leaders or representatives of independent Rekali ships, stations, colonies, witch enclaves, family units. They're all my cousins, by blood or by adoption. So, cousins: speak."

The questions came thick and fast, from Rekalis of every description.

"Does the Mandalorian Empire follow the Supercommando Codex?"

"Does the Mandalorian Empire intend to handle expansion and assimilation like the Neo-Crusaders did? Maximum inclusivity, cursory introduction to the resol'nare?"

"Does the your empire consider the United Clans dar'manda for refusing to follow you?"

"Do you intend to assimilate the United Clans?"

"If you were to control all the Mandalorian territories, what role would the Alor'e Council serve?"

"What degree of autonomy would the Clans have, in your idea of a perfect 'verse?"

"Who are your enemies? The Sith? The Coalition? The Republic?"

"What are your goals? To what end do you want to unite former Mandalorian-controlled worlds?"

 

[Darth Metus]

Thick and fast indeed. The various faces of Clan Rekali were eager to determine whether or not the Mandalorian Empire was a threat – to the United Clans, to the Mandalorians as a whole...and to them. Isley drew a breath to steady himself as the questions began to fly, before answering each one in the order that he heard.

"To a degree. The Empire stands upon a foundation of honor, but we do not exist solely as mercenaries. Honor, is the cornerstone of our society and dictates how we deal with deviations of common law, conduct on the battlefield, and so on."

"Yes, almost to the letter – though we attempt to gauge individual willingness in order to prevent homegrown terrorism."

"No. We regard the United Clans as extended family." Officially regard, that is. There were always youngins who thought it smart to call a whole bunch of Mandalorians Dar'manda to their faces.

"No. As I had alluded to in my meeting with the Council, my intention is the reclamation of our lost lands and people. Our goal is to restore and elevate, but in a manner that leaves the Clans untouched." A prime example of this would be Echoy'la: once an exploited mining colony, now the beating heart of an Empire.

"The lands maintained and acquired by the United Clans would be regarded as 'ancestral.' Ancestral lands would be governed by the Alor'e Council, just as they are this very day. In matters pertaining to the remainder of said territories, the will of the Council would be included in the making of every major decision – I would not act without consulting my people."

"In a perfect 'verse, the Clans would be free to do as they do at current. However, under a single banner would we all move towards a common goal."

"My enemies are many. The enemy of the Empire is solely the Galactic Republic at present." Isley would never truly forgive those who burnt his life to the ground so long ago, but that did not mean the Empire was his personal envoy for vengeance.

"You all recall how things were prior to Akala's ravaging the stars?" his final answer began with a question – one that those listening would easily nod in response to. "Our territories were vast. Prosperity abounded. Only the excessively bold or excessively foolish dared challenge the name Mandalorian. But that all changed. We lost so much...land, and more importantly people."

"My goal, my entire reason for taking the mantle of Mand'alor and choosing the title Reclaimer is to restore that. My goal is to revive that power, prestige, and prosperity to the name Mandalorian. My goal is to reclaim our lost!"

And that was the skinny of it. Isley returned his gaze to his niece, feeling his heart thundering away in the pit of his throat. There would be more, of this he was certain.

[member="Alec Rekali"]

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Isley Verd"]

As the first round of questions found their answers - or at least were spoken to - attention shifted to Alec. For the tougher questions.

She cleared her throat. "Ba'vodu, are you saying you would reconquer and assimilate almost a quarter of the civilized galaxy, then place it under the influence the Alor'e Council? To what Clan do or would your assimilated subjects belong? How does the Empire treat mercenary work, which only came about of necessity after the Neo-Crusaders fell? At various points, Mandalorians have defined honor in very different ways. Can you give us a comprehensive definition with reference to some historical archetypes or movements? What are your feelings on the goals and methods and power structures of the historical Death Watch, and the historical Crusaders?

"And once you've situated your movement in historical context, situate your claim. Mandalorians have chosen or acknowledged their leader in many different ways. Tell us, ba'vodu: by what criteria should a clan acknowledge a claimant to the title of Mandalore? If personal challenges are involved, are you prepared to face those challenges in the future?

"My final question is this. Who is responsible for my grandfather's death?"

Her intonation added weight. She knew -- everyone knew -- that Saverok had done the deed. That wasn't what she was asking.