The Measure of a Man

[Julius Sedaire]

Location: Ch'iscati Vamci - The Hammer Home, above Mandalore​

​

Ijaat stood in the training room aboard his new ship, looking about the barely used quarters with a smile. He stood there in nothing but loose training shorts, even his feet bare against the cold steel and tile of the facility. The emitters in this particular room were off, the environment simulator his friend Xander Carrick had made for him idle and waiting. Today would be a test of sorts, even though his friend did not yet know it. The agreement had been a duel before Ijaat consented to take his opponents contract and shape him his new beskar'gam. But in truth, Ijaat had taken it because he needed a test of his new armor.

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]A crate marked with a kyr'bres stood over to the side of the venerated beskar smith. In it was a full suit of beskar'gam perfectly made for his visitor, who was at this time being shown the way through the ship by a courteous and helpful AI Ijaat had made, that was currently [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666669845581px]inhabiting[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6666666666667px] a Z6 droids body. The suit was designed after hearing tales of combat being recounted, watching holovids, talking with the man himself and further even interviewing other Protectors and Mando'ade... They would meet on as equal terms as Ijaat could make it, and if the armor he had made proved insufficient, or needed fitting adjustments after the fight, he would make them then.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px]Sitting down, Ijaat lit up a cigarra and took a swig of tihaar, the bottle in his hand three quarters or more on the way to empty. Truth be told, he drank far too much these days, but it kept the demons in his head and dreams at bay. Or so he told himself. Jatharesa, the ancient alchemized longsword he so prized and treasured, sat on the table, bare and next to the scabbard. In idle thought, Ijaat traced the corsuca gem inlay of the sword, wondering at what stories it held and deeds were to its' name.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6666666666667px][member="Muad Dib"][/SIZE]

 

[Muad Dib]

Muad had arrived at the ship and come aboard to be greeted by the afore mentioned droid. Stepping lightly he followed the droid through the corridors. He was dressed in his customary brown tunic and trousers with boots and leather jacket. Over his shoulder the handle of a sword protruded from it's scabbard along his back.

He had met Ijaat several times, the first of which was in a bar, and yet he and the other man were barely first name acquaintances. But when it came to having armor made for him there were near none that came better recommended. Thinking on recent events on Wayland brought a snarl to his face at remembering how his old armor was decimated. Course it wasn't beskar'gam. He shrugged his shoulders slightly as he remembered the wounds received that had could have been avoided or lessened ha he been wearing the mandalorian iron skin.

Entering the room he scoped it out automatically as he sensed the man in front of him smoking the cigarette. Chuckling he passed the droid as he reached into his own jacket and pulled out a pack, removing a deathstick, and placing it between his lips. A snap of his fingers brought a flame to life as he breathed in deeply. Glowing blue eyes surveyed Ijaat as he exhaled a plume of blue smoke.

"Vod."

[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Standing, Ijaat stretched, vertebrae in his back popping and crackling a bit as he moved and twisted, almost like limbering up before a jog. Leaving the sword with a trailing hand, he walked over to Muad, holding his hand out to the other mando with a sly smile on his face. The smith had heard of Wayland, seen holovid captures and picts of the fight. Whether Muad would say it or not, he had fought admirably against a foe that would just not admit defeat. Happily the smith would have forged for this man for that reason alone. When it came to beskar, especially beskar'gam, there had to be more than just pure profit and piles of credits. The iron of his people was as sacred as anything was to Ijaat, and so he was selective about those whom he clothed in it.

"Muad... Good to finally formally meet you... I've heard a lot, and seen what you did on Wayland. I'm glad you came to me.... If you don't mind, I took the liberty of analyzing you from combat footage and stories.... That crate over there has a prototype of your armor.. Nice and light for how you like to move. And I added a special touch to the armorweave undersuit, it's not standard armorweave but terenthium desh and microionised beskar, so you'll be weighted down just a bit, but you won't have to worry as much about your joints being hit in battle up close."

With a nod to indicate the crate, Ijaat tossed the man a key to the durasteel lock of it and smiled, waiting like a kid waiting in a candy shop for Muad to check out what he had made.

[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Muad Dib]

Muad took the offered hand with a grin. He frowned slightly at the mentioned battle and remembered his vow of vengeance on the Primeval before letting the thought slide from his mind. While Ijaat spoke Muad took the man in with his senses to get a bettter read on the man. He knew from experience what the fogginess in the force meant when he tried to sense him through it. Instead he used his enhanced senses.

Eyes took in the scars on his forearms from forging, muscles of corded sinew, and the weary smile. His nose caught the scent of liquor easing from the bottle and breath but also from his pores where it almost resonated. Ears heard the pop of joints, a sign of much use and a worn body, but not necessarily worn out. But it was the eyes that made Muad like him the most. The haunted, hunted look combined with a beskar resolve. He grinned again, yep, I like him.

"A present to open. Must be my name day."

Chuckling he lowered the sword and a wrapped item to the floor before bending over the lid of the crate to pull it off and set it aside. Inside, nestled with care as if a babe had been swaddled, was his beskar'gam. Dropping to a knee he slowly removed the pieces and carefully laid them out on the floor, piecing them in the correct place before standing to whistle low at the armor.

Matte black and slim he dropped to a squat and slowly caressed the armor feeling it speak to him. Lighter then the standard armor of the mandalorian he marveled at the craftsmanship. The gauntlets were different that the old ones he had used but he saw the signs of recessed circles telling him that these were indeed based off of the sith power gauntlets he had worn in the past.

Looking back into the crate he removed the body suit and ran his fingers over it as he again admired the work. Laying it down gently next to the suit he picked up the wrapped item and stood to look at Ijaat.

"Not only is it a work of art and beautiful but it is deadly. I thank you ner vod for the gift of your hands and mind. This is a small token of my appreciation."

He held out the item within. Under the wrappings would be an eighteen inch blade, double edged, and pointed at an end with a triangle shape. The pommel was wrapped in leather with a blue crystal at the bottom and a straight guard on top. He had forged this weapon on Tython himself under the tutelage of a holocron in the forge temple. During the forging process he had imbued the blade with the force so it would never break, never lose it's edge, and never miss it's mark. The crystal was a wild force shard that he had found in the nexus of Tython, one which he had imbued even more in the force. It would resonate with the wielder aiding them against force attacks as well as lending an iota of strength to a force user. It could enhance a mood, helping with serenity or growing one's rage.

[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Watching Muad examine the armor, the smile reached weary honey colored eyes for real for a moment. There was something of him lost in each piece he crafted like this. A part of his soul, his being, was imbued in that work as real as any parent giving birth to a child of flesh and blood. But it was not a lessening, so to speak, rather it was as if he gained something as well. Knowledge, he always learned something from every piece, but ones like these he had something more come into him. An alchemical exchange almost, and equivalent empowerment that warmed his old bones and lit a fire in his very soul.

As he watched Muad pull the blade, he marveled, flipping and rolling the blade in his hands, hefting it, testing the balance and movement, a few stabs and slices at the air, a growing smile as he laid it on next to the bared blade of his ancient longsword, nodding in satisfaction, grunting slightly, eyeing Muad. He was not displeased, but he had wanted no reward for this. Hell, in truth he wasn't intending on charging Muad. Ijaat had more than enough money, and a task like this was a gift to the smith in and of itself.

"This blade you handed me.... What is it... I've not felt it's like in a long time, not since I was apprenticed to a hermit who used to study under a wandering smith from Tython.... His blades had that liveliness, that living wild feel to them... They are beyond value and count, and I have heard and seen wars fought over swords as such. It is an honor, and will be taken as such... But come... To the right is a changing and arming vestibule... I welcome you to suit up, and we'll try that armor out to see if we need to adjust it.. Also... In the box under the wrapping bindings is a knife for you, to replace the skinning knife I saw you with a time or two... It's no beskad, but I had some scrap calcified mythosaur bone laying around, so I made it as an affectation."

[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Muad Dib]

Muad watched as Ijaat tested the balance and looked the blade over with a practiced eye. His mind went back to the time when he had crafted the blade. Who he was at the beginning of that journey was not the man who ended it. No, not by a long shot. He had learned who he was and what he was capable of. Not just violence had he to offer the galaxy, but something else.

"A time ago I was lost on Tython, it was a long time there. I forged this under the tutelage of an ancient smith. During the process it was imbued with the force. The crystal is a wild force shard. It saved my life on more then one occasion. May it serve you as well as it had served me."

Muad collected his armor and bodysuit and moved to the room that had been pointed out. Laying out the armor again he looked it over with a grin. Then he undressed. Standing there he looked upon his body. Half healed wounds and fresh scars adorned his body, a log of battle. Beneath the skin hidden from view ere older more greivous wounds he could see in the force. His body was crossed and laced with war trophies that was visible through his force abilities. Running a hand over a puckered scar over his chest he remembered the battle lord ceremony. It had nigh killed him. Archaic sith runes stretched from the knuckles of his left hand up to his elbow, covering nearly every square inch, a token of an adventure with two sith who had been family to him. Family that he had seemingly lost. A faint scar along his entire right forearm was the reward for battling Malice Draclau, a sith master, when he was just an apprentice. Muad had used the bone from his left forearm to climb up the throat of a sarlac.

His eyes were clouded at the memories of war. For a moment he was weary. War, battle, death, and destruction was all he had offered the galaxy for years. And all it had earned him was prestige, power, and loneliness as those he trained had tried to kill him for the glory, those of his rank tried to kill him for being greater then they, and the masters attempted to destroy him because of fear. The few friends lost, his love with the Primeval, and nothing but a trail of death and destruction in his wake.

Blinking several times he came back to the present and remembered who he was. He was a monster and the Mad Knight of Manda'yaim, but here he was among family, even if the majority still distrusted him. Pulling on the bodysuit he began assembling his armor until he stood, a mandalorian in his beskar'gam. His sith armor was one of the last pieces of his identity as a sith, and even though in his heart he was still scarred and dark, with the new armor on he felt several pieces of who he was drift away, a changed man. Even with his past etched on his body and in his mind he knew he was mandalorian. He fought with his vode, he had a home on Manda'yaim, he wore the armor, he spoke the language, he answered the call for assistance. With understanding and acceptance he had become mando'ad, a son of Mandalore.

Strapping on his lightsabers and lightfoil he walked from the changing room and took up the sword to place it once more on his back. His helmet, his buy'ce, he hooked to his belt in the netting. Bending over the crate he removed the blade Ijaat had made for him from scrap bone. Pulling it from it's sheath he marveled at the curve and weight, beautiful and deadly. It fit in his hand almost as if it was a part of him. Hooking the sheath at the small of his back sideways he slid the blade home and waited for Ijaat.

[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

As the newly attired Muad emerged, Ijaat clapped in almost celebration, nodding. To his practiced eyes there were minor gaps, minor flaws of fit and finish, but for the most part his vod moved as if the sleek battle armor was made and molded from his flesh. The thought of that image crossed Ijaat's mind, and for a moment his smile faltered, his eyes clouded and darkened as what he was came to him, what he had become. War was his occupation, it's practice and science his very soul and being really.

To most, the iron skin was a symbol, an avatar of what their inner self was as a mando'ade. That was the secret to Ijaat's forging and why his product was so in demand. It was not just the detail and craftsmanship. Each piece, when he took it on, was done special made for the wearer. Crafted as lovingly as someone might a gift for their own child. After a moment, the process became almost as if he were transcripting the intended wearer, distilling them into beskar and wood and leather and transparisteel.

"What you are about to see.... Well... You probably haven't seen before... It's..... A different sort of armor... But don't be alarmed, it's nothing dangerous... And in the end it's really just beskar'gam with a gimmick.... So.... I'll armor up now...."

Closing his eyes, Ijaat stepped out a bit, feet shoulder-width apart, his palms turned out toward Muad and his feet turned sideways in an anatomical position. Breathing deeply, his respiration's slowed to one every few seconds, and then even less, and with a sudden grimac, a golden sheen seemed to flow from ruptures in his skin, coating him like an armorweave bodyglove, followed seconds later by a flow of silver-white and blue, what seemed like a surge of tinted mercury. The substance wrapped and warped around him, spinning and crawling, and when it finally settled a heaving and swaying Ijaat stood covered in what was unmistakably beskar'gam, but definitely a departure from the traditional shapes and patterns in many ways.

Smiling, he held out his right hand and left, and the sword from early rattled, shook, and flew to his right hand as a control rod/grip for a shield given to him by Arrbi Betna flew to the left and he assumed a crouch. The surroundings flicked, holo and VR systems in the room engaging, and suddenly they were on a snowy surface much like tython, a rocky crag facing a sheer cliff wall one way, and a thousand or more foot drop the other. The hand with the shield control flicked in a 'come on' gesture to Muad as it blazed to life.

[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Muad Dib]

"Impressive. Now do it again, although I have to wonder how all that metal will go back into your body ..."

Muad leaned to his left looking at Ijaat's posterior with a chuckle. Then he collected the helmet, sealing it, and activated the Heads Up Display. As diagnostics began running Muad activated the dinu'ul in the middle of his left forearm which extended just past his hand. his right gauntlet reached up and pulled the sword from it's scabbard, a force imbued straight sword with both edges dangerously sharp.

Spinning it a few times he roled his shoulders as he bounced on the balls of his feet all the while grinning beneath his buy'ce. The armor felt good, felt right. Was just a hair heavier then his old armor but brought with it several important upgrades. Looking at the simulated terrain it reminded him of one of the temples on Tython, where he trained in some of the jedaii martial art before continuing his trek. He preferred the sands of the desert but he never got cold, not even in the depths of a blizzard on Hoth.

"Okay vod, let's try the armor out."

And then Muad advanced with the gesture from Ijaat. His shield was held up as he moved forward sideways, his elbow tucked into his body. He had seen so many amatuers holding the shield with their elbows out and ready to get lopped of and knew better then that. Nearing Ijaat he danced forward his right arm swinging in a wide arc for the left side of Ijaat's head that would leave a mark, but knowing most smiths were also exceptional fighters he planned his second move.

If the sword connected with shield, head or shoulder he would allow the momentum of the kinetic energy to bounce the sword back while twisting his wrist and swinging the sword around to strike at his opponent's right shoulder with a minimal twist of his right wrist. Course anything could happen especially in the first contact of the dance they had begun.

[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

This was a fun dance already! Muad had charged in and swung right for his head, and rather than react in any typical fashion, Ijaat reached up and door-kicked into Muad's chest while activating the mag-clamp, attempting to lock onto the chest plate of the armor and twist via his hips and back, aiming a heavy axe kick to the side of Muad's head as his hand fired a pressor beam at the sword, scooching it to just barely miss his left flank as he attempted his acrobratic kick. Somehow, some way, Ijaat moved as if using Force Speed, his limbs a blur and thanks to the biots from his time on Selvaris, it would be hard for Muad to sense what he was doing and how.

The move was risky, and flashy, but it was also a feint, a few stunts like this and Muad would get the wrong impression of how he fought, and then he could switch tactics and exploit the assumption. Assuming he stayed alive and unharmed long enough. Thank the heavens that alchemical blade did whatever it did to make him move so fast.

[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Muad Dib]

The massive kick to the chest was unexpected as well as the beam knocking his sword hand askew. As he flew backwards he felt a momentary pull as Ijaat activated his magclamp, but the force of the kick ping ponged Muad so hard and so fast that he was already to far for the lock to catch him. Hitting on his shoulders he flipped backwards and to his feet with a growling laugh.

"Nice high kick, you could be a show girl!"

Using the rage within locked away like a caged beast he fueled his body enhancing his strength and speed to match the smith's which had caught him completely off guard. Running forward with a burst of speed he cocked his left arm back while swinging his right , with the sword, across his body to his left him. Then he twisted his body.

He threw his sword in a straight line for the smith's crotch. As his body twisted his HUD showed the trajectory of his arm and the path it would need to take as he continued to swing his right arm back and his left forward. At the right moment he activated the rail system on his left forearm to fire his shield along the rail, in essence launching it at Ijaat's chest which might be open if he dropped his guard to block the sword's path to his groin.

As the shield left his arm, launching at the smith's chest Mud leaped into the air, still spinning and flipping to hopefully grab Ijaat's helmet while upside down and then plant his feet into the small of the man's back to fall and flip the smith into the air all the while crying out a battle cry ...

"For Greyskull!"

Could be referencing the silver helmet of Ijaat's ... could be referencing a cartoon he had seen as a child, with Muad you never knew.

[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Turning just so, Ijaat actually pelvic thrusted, his codpiece connecting with a loud *ding* as it hurtled the sword away from the two combatants and skittering off the 'cliff' they fought on. Wincing at the even blunt force of the blow, he reacted by twisting, the circle in the center of his chest glowing, humming, and suddenly shooting out a beam of pure incandescent energy to sizzle through the air and slam into the shield, sending it flying right back at Muad as Ijaat numbly dropped his sword to the ground and hit his knees, his hands grasping at his crotch as he gasped in obvious pain, Muad sailing right past and over him straight for the 'rock wall' just behind the dueling pair.

[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Muad Dib]

One would assume would would just fly past the kneeling, wounded Ijaat and toward the stone wall. And one would be wrong, unfortunately in Muad's case.

As the shield left Muad's arm he had already leaped and spun upside down, the war cry on his lips. But when the smith returned the shield along it's path the Mad Knight had a moment to grunt as the shield cracked him right in the faceplatee before careening off. Muad flipped several times in the air twisting as his neck and shoulders screamed, his head spinning.

Dropping from above, short of the other side of Ijaat, Muad landed legs splayed down toward either side of the buy'ce when Muad's CoD piece connected with his full weight and momentum. Gauntlets raced down as an agonized groan came out.

"Tea bagged you ..."

[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Spinning off balance as Muad tea-bagged him, the swordsman-smith roared and activated all his thrusters on his weaponry, jerking forward with a savage headbutt to Muad's groin as he began disconnecting himself from quickly. Blindly he fired the electrode-emitters in both his hands, the energy arcing and flailing wildly towards Muad in unfocused bursts as he fought to keep focused. Eyes watering as his vision swam from the impact, a stumbling Ijaat hit the canyon wall with a thud. Suddenly a small voice chimed in his ear, and for a moment Ijaat thought he had been hit hard enough to hear things, but it was merely Geoff taking over for a moment.

"Here sir... Try this... I added it and forgot to tell you..."

With a whine, his arm jerked up with blurring speed and aimed at Muad as he slumped down the wall, firing off a sudden barrage of barely aimed blaster bolts towards his opponent from an apparently newly integrated charric style light repeating blaster.

"Sorry.... Still learning how to interface with these biots... It's rather like speaking Basic to a Tusken, you sort of understand each other, but not really."

[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Muad Dib]

Getting a head butt in the groin is bad enough. Add in the helmet and the propulsion and it was even worse. Flying up and away he was then hit with even more, energy washing over his body, the electricity arcing around him and sorting his HUD momentarily.

Crashing down his teeth cracked so hard he thought he felt one chip. Snarling, a bit higher pitched because of the pain in his groin that radiated into God's lower stomach, he semi straightened in time to catch another wave of energy but this time in the form of blaster bolts that knocked him back because of the kinetic force. The beskar'gam saved him from the burns and serious injury he would have sustained in place of his old armor.

"A Keldabe kiss? I know I'm attractive ner vod, but please restrain yourself."

With the HUD having refreshed Muad activated the boosters in his boots that launched him forward right at Ijaat in the Superman pose. With distress clenched forward if him he laughed.

"I'm a bird, I'm a plane, I'm a launching fists of fury!!!"

Muad activated the thrusters in his gauntlets that fired both clenched, armored gauntlets right for the source of the chest beam. As his hands were freed he followed the flying 'fists' with streaks of lightning, intending to close the distance and grab the Smith, sending more force lightning into his opponent while planning on ramming Ijaat into the simulated stone wall behind him.

[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Julius Sedaire]

"Geoff? Reroute all power to the thrusters, give us some extra speed... I want every drop that you can give it..."

"I will dispense with warnings, re-routing to thrusters now"

Leaping into a roll forward Ijaat came forward and into the air like a sleek puma, uncoiling and copying Muad's poses, giving the control to Geoff after a series of blinks set a course to impact his head exactly with Muad's. even taking the impact of the flying gauntlets with grunts and twinges, feeling signs of fractures or breaks in his collarbones, ignoring the med-scan readout of the damage and red-lining the suit. As Geoff meshed fully, it became apparent this might have been the stupidest, but only move, Ijaat really had.

"Let's see if you're chicken, boy.."

[member="Muad Dib"]

 

[Muad Dib]

Seeing Ijaat rolling and launching forward to meet him head on Muad laughed. It was a game of chicken. Roaring with laughter he dropped his hands and lowered his head refusing to back out of this crazy and dangerous game of chicken.

"Heads up smithy!!!"

Then the two connected with a loud ring of beskar buy'ce on beskar buy'ce. Muad careened of to the right, the HUD flashing red as systems malfunctioned and rebooted, the warnings of physical damage blinking on and off.

Crashing to the floor one of the boot thrusters turned off and Muad began spinning like a top before shutting off. Crashing to the ground Muad flopped to his back. His ears were ringing, ears, nose, and mouth bleeding. His vision was fuzzy and his head was spinning.

Popping his buy'ce off Muad retched to the side as he pushed himself to his knees and glared at Ijaat with a maniacal grin on his face.

"Ready for more .... Boy ...?"

[member="Ijaat Akun"]