The Seeds that Grow to Larger Trees

[Ceres Cluvius]

Vespian City, Dolur.
Descension day.
Early Morning.

It had been one year exactly since what the locals would now call “Descension Day.” Since then, everything on Dolur had changed. From the window where he stood, Ceres could see the streets were filling with people who were eager to hear from their Regent and see his official coronation as their unified ruler. The path here hadn’t been easy. His wizened left hand gripped a small silver amulet in its grasp as he remembered the state of this planet when they had arrived. The light glistened over its blaster seared surface in a broken array.

There had been war, blood in the streets. Famine and death, plagues caused by the civil war and infighting. It was horrific. While the planet still was far from totally unified, and there were still pockets of fighting to be had, Ceres took solace in knowing that they had already secured Vespian City and at least most of the continent around it. This capital was its primary port, and therefore its seat of power. The rest would slowly begin to fall in line.

His blue eyes wandered to the mountains in the far distance, his thoughts went to his oldest son. He could feel him through their deep connection in the Force. He was tense, focused, and ready to blow. Ceres could tell that it was only a matter of a few moments before the young man put down yet one more cell of a stronghold. He had high hopes and faith in his son that were far from misplaced. Dolur was hardly their first encounter. His son’s life had been building and preparing him for this great venture. Victory was all but assured against these warring terrorists who had decided to hide behind goats and children. But if Liber were to fail, of course, there were always other contingencies that were being groomed. This was no mere crushing. If Ceres had wanted them dead, there were plenty of soldiers who could do that.

No, Ceres needed the civilians inspired by the swiftness of the Cluvius family’s justice, that would inspire their patronage and love. Then he needed them also horrified by its brutality. Future evil doers would take heed of the suffering and realize who they were dealing with. Liber had always been adequate for both in one fell swoop.

Ceres turned from his window to his desk, and his thoughts shifted towards his daughter. Ceres could feel her well through the Force. For all his son’s darkness, she was the embodiment of nothing but purest light. His rage and brutality was countered by Libera’s pure dente in political skill. As Liber had shown competence in swift justice, Libera had shown her adeptness at dealing with people. Through their travels in the galaxy, her father had been careful to provide her chances to grow in this as well. She had often mitigated peace between the father and son. They were both incredibly ambitious, and that oft faired ill. Her skills she had doubtlessly learned from Ceres’ hand in shrewd business dealing.

And now she would be finishing one that would allow them to consolidate massive swaths of land held by one of the few remaining nobles. The land would flow right into the hands of family Cluvius and allow them to inject fresh food into the people’s diets and income into the economy. It was a simple solution of the Mandalorian nobles had half a brain cell to operate.

Ceres tossed the papers in his hands back onto the table with a scowl. The Mandalorians. They were responsible for the horrific state of this planet. The clan who called themselves Raxis had set up a horrific despot here who was little more than a ring-kissing war criminal. His war was brutal, and to prop it up, the monster had established “nobles;” goons willing to shoot starved farmers in the name of honor. When this warlord had inevitably died by his violent lifestyle, civil war erupted.

Ceres’ lips curved in an ironic smile as he raised a golden goblet of wine. Their war had resulted in their undoing, allowing Cluvius to not just become their leader but their hero. One of the massive wooden doors opened, a servant stepped in with a half bow, “Sir, Advisor Satris has arrived.”

Ceres set his goblet down and offered a smirk, “Wonderful, bring her in.”

As his children were turning the gears themselves, Ceres had gears to turn before his coronation.

[member="Dorkas Satris"] I [member="Liber Cluvius"] I [member="Libera Cluvius"]​

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

Jorath's Ranges,​

Descension Day.​

Early Morning.​

Art by Christian Hecker​

The mountainous region known as Jorath's Ranges was awash in battle. Blaster fire, thermal detonators, soldiers and rebels, all clashed in a violent wave against one another. Dirt, rocks, blood, flesh, all littered the area, some flying through the air accompanied by screams. Several Mandalorian fighters were among the rebel forces, their armored visages striking fear into some of the soldiers fighting against them. The t-shaped visors passive, no emotion showing in their highly trained and methodical movements. The three were the some of the remnants of Clan Raxis, the last survivors of the previous leader that had been killed one year ago, and they were determined to rally a force that would storm Vespian City and assassinate the newly appointed ruler - Ceres Cluvius.

"Push them back," Shouted the leader of the Mando'a, pointing his gloved finger forward. "Cut through their lines, then we march on the city!"

A rallying cry sounded, as the defending army fought to keep their line. The constant clashing, crawling through mud and blood, fighting from hastily made trench to hastily made trench had begun to take its toll. For an hour the two forces had moved the battle line back and forth, one side gaining the upper hand, only to have it taken away and repelled. The Cluvius forces had been fighting hard, much harder than the rebels, by keeping the enemy in place for as long as possible. They had to hold the line, it was their orders, not to give so much as a mile to the enemy; not until they had reinforcements, and the Lakan - their Commander - had reached them...

One of the Cluvius soldiers took a hit to the shoulder, crying out as he fell into the trench.

"Sithspit," He shouted, holding a hand to his wound. He was in mud, next to another soldier looking at him wide-eyed, blaster fire zipping through the air above. "We can't do this. We can't hold this line any longer!"

The rebels were slowly pushing forward again, their morale and combat prowess improved by the Mandalorians fighting alongside them. They had been wearing down the Cluvius army, slowly lowering their numbers, wearing them down.

"We have to!" Shouted the other soldier, teeth clenched. "The Lakan will be here. He has to be!"

"What if he's dead? What do we do then?"

"He isn't dead!"

"He went to hunt down two Mandalorians," The wounded soldier hissed. "He only took some Cluvius Guardsmen! He's dead."

Across the battlefield, one of the Mandalorians jet-packed into the air, clearly feeling confident. At peak height, dodging and evading blaster fire from the enemy, he fired a projectile - a rocket - from the top of his jetpack. Looping through the air, the warrior clad in beskar armor dropped back down to his troops. The rocket flew through the air, smoke-trail billowing, angling down onto the closest trench, heading toward the wounded soldier and his companion, as well as several others around them. All the Cluvius soldiers looked up, eyes widening, even as they screamed to run for cover... but no explosion happened.

"W...what?" The wounded soldier looked up from behind his arm, lowering the limb that had been protecting his face. "How?"

The rocket floated in place, the propulsion system sparking and straining, unable to move. Slowly it began to turn, the internal electronics fighting the change in direction, and then it suddenly shot back toward the enemy, impacting with a thunderous boom as it splayed molten heat on the enemy!?

"Rally to me, men!"

From above, a heavy troop transport's engines whined, spewing heat as it rapidly deployed into the combat zone. Standing in the open side hatch, the hulking form of Liber Cluvius roared for his men to rally, holding on with one arm, the other clutched at his side with several objects in fist. As the pilot brought the craft down with precision, landing mere feet above the blood soaked ground, Liber jumped out and landed with a heavy crunch of armored boots. The Prince had arrived, his face and armor covered in blood, as he raised his arm - and held out the two Mandalorian helmets for the other Mando'a to see... and heard the shock and surprise from the closest enemy in the next trench across.

"Only three left. To me, army of Cluvius, onward to ATTACK!"

Throwing the helmets to the ground, Liber reached over his shoulder, drawing a huge white-bladed sword from his back. Despite being used in combat, the weapon had no blood or stains or damage, it was pristine. With a shout, the Lakan of the army began to run forward, legs pumping as he closed the distance rapidly with the enemy. All around, from the tall leader's flank, his army roared in response, leaping from their trenches and joining the charge. The rebels began to panic, firing wildly and trying to suppress the enemy, but they were about to be routed - they knew, they had heard what the Prince was capable of, and they saw the other dead Mandalorians.

The remaining three Mando'a, each now filled with rage, locked their sights on the towering leader with the flowing crimson cape. They rallied their own men, calling for their own charge, and with some hesitation the rebels also began to leave their trenches, running headlong toward the nearing enemy...

"No rebel leaves this battlefield alive," Liber called, as he ducked below a hasty blaster shot aimed for his head. He gripped the war claymore with two hands, activating the mag-grips in the palms of his gloves. "Today we end this dissent, today we end the rule of the war-mongering Mandalorians and their rebels!"

The two armies closed the distance, the shouting increased, and then with a crunch of armor and bone and weapon and ground, the two sides impacted...

 

[Ra'a'mah]

The woman walked the fields of the semi-royal estate that belonged to Fiana Yalthik​. Her company was expected and a few people watched as Libera approached the house. These people were in need to help, supplies and medical needs mostly. Libera had heard their plea and came to investigate the conditions.

Her startling blue eyes looked across the expanse around her. She noted the run down condition of the buildings and almost ragged figures of the people that watched her with lost eyes. The commoners, workmen and women...even children all had a role to play here. Understanding this, she felt a little pity at the living conditions of these folk when their overlord had everything she needed.

Granted Libera also had everything she needed, it was her position to extend what extra there was to these people. Not one to carry a large weapon, there was a fine and hidden blaster on her hip. Just knowing it was there assisted her in how she carried and presented herself. She also had the Force as something she could use and to her advantage.

Wearing a nice looking, but a grey dress, she looked only out of place since she was clean. Her clothes weren't worn or falling apart. There was no need for them to be repaired. However, her shoes were well worn, but not in bad condition. Tailor made to fit her and perfectly fit. The long hair she had was freely flowing and caught in the wind as she walked.

Taking her time, by the time she reached the gates, they were open and welcoming to her. Walking up the drive, there was a certain change to the aura. A sharpening of the air and attitude of the people. Those that worked here were clearly set above those that took care of the land outside the walls. A line had been drawn between the classes, but still everybody had their role to play.

One man approached her and would introduce himself with a bow. He spoke in Mandoa which she had picked up in her years on the planet and working with the people. Answering in the same language, she returned his nod.

"Vrei Axfow, miss. Please follow me."

"Lead the way, Mr. Axfow."

Following him a step or two behind, she made note of what he wore and noticed he almost lacked weapons. This was odd to her since the Mandalorians were a force of war. There was always the chance something prevented him from participating in battle, a past wound or maybe his mind was poor. It wasn't a real concern of hers, but did not assume he couldn't fight if it were needed.

He lead her inside and indicated she was to take a seat in what appeared to be a parlor of some sort and wait on Lady Fiana to join her. Offering her a drink, he waited for an answer. Once she indicated what she wanted, Libera took a seat on one of the chairs and waited for the lady of the estate to appear.

[member="Liber Cluvius"] [member="Ceres Cluvius"]