Private The Thaw

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

I'll Sing You A Love Song​

As the hot shower flooded her vision with steam, Gwyneira Krayt looked up at the refresher's bright, colorless lighting. The harshly unnatural lighting was something she had been born into and raised in, yes. But after certain traumas, she could never see it the same way again. She was leaning against a wall, feeling the absence of nearly a whole limb. Water dripped off the stub where her left leg should be. She always took her cybernetic limb off when showering, despite the terrible pain of taking it off and on.

She closed her cybernetic eyes, once again remembering that they were technological replacements for the real ones. Needed, yes. But she felt the absences. Parts of her were gone. Not even missing, she knew what their fates had been. Just gone. Forever. It was a trauma that stuck to a person, especially when conscious in the scarring experience of the removal. She sighed, memories shifting to her steady realization that Kranak Vizsla, her buir, had lost a limb at Tython. Having been through a lot, including a trip to the karking Netherworld and realizing her significant other was kriffing returned from the dead for realsies; Gwyneira had little time to freak out over Kranak when she already had been gushing over Vulcan Krayt, her troublesome younger brother. Who was hospitalized. All of this, on top of still being angry at Shai Krayt for her grand betrayal. And also having to catch up with her entire karabasting company and its economics and spending and stuff.

Yes. Gwyneira Krayt was running around like a busy bee. Trying to be there for her jobs, her brother, her very confused boyfriend, and her father - only to just achieve nothing except company paperwork and running from one residence or hospital room to another for five minutes before Karjr business came up or she had an unscheduled heart palpitation from so much stress.

Even trying to take a relaxing shower was doing nothing to help her scattered mind. All she could think about, in the exhausted mush of her brain, was her buir. She really needed to touch base with him again, and lecture him on losing an arm and daring to be in danger on this thing called a battlefield. She needed him! And she could tell, he most likely needed her even more. In some ways, how they handled stress could be very similar. Bottling it up, blaming oneself for things clearly not their fault, taking it all on and beating themselves up when the antidote was being gentle with themselves. It was brutal, and Gwyneira needed to be sure to help him through it.

She turned off the water, got dressed and pulled her cybernetic leg on. She pulled a winter outfit over her wrinkled clothes, her hair all messy and in her face. With circles under her eyes, she piloted her ship, the Tauntaun, towards her buir's location. If she even remembered the coordinates right. Hoth she needed a nap...

​

The frigid cold of Kestri's wilderness was something she had gotten used to. She had even hiked in just an undershirt and shorts once, though it landed her in the hospital. As the crystal clear sun failed to warm the surface, Gwyneira stepped onto a frozen lake. Up ahead, she sensed a Force Signature she knew very personally. Her buir. She stepped across the thick frozen lake. Ice groaned under her beskar leg's weight as she approached the silhouette of a towering, muscular man ice fishing in a foldable chair. Her footsteps hastened as approached. Excitement boiled inside her, "B-"

-It all happened in the fraction of a second. The Force warned her, she halted, dodged. She only processed afterwards, the echoing of blaster fire across the frozen wilds. She looked down at the blaster bolt, smoldering in front of her, then looked back up to the man who just... holstered his blaster and returned to fishing.

She blinked for a couple moments.

Then.

"WHAT THE KARK, BUIR! WHAT THE KRIFFING KARK! WHY WOULD YOU KARABASTING DO THAT! KARKING HOTH! ASHLA'S CHIT! THE KARK!"

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla
​

Gather Your Quiet​

Time healed injuries, both physical and mental alike.

For the most part, that’s what the giant needed the most now. Some peace and quiet, some time alone with his thoughts to process the events of Tython, and what came shortly after it all. The Mandalorian’s troubled mind demanded some peace of mind, more than ever. The aftermath of their confrontation with his comrade, the Wardog, had remained a blur until after he watched it unfold all over again from his helmet camera, recording the fight from start to finish.

He did not know of her fate. All he saw before the footage came to an end was that Scoundrel ( Xyoz Maji ) carrying her broken body away in his embrace after personally ripping her cybernetic limbs apart.

She was very tough, the giant knew as much, but could she have truly survived that ordeal? She did not appear alive in the footage from what he could see. Perhaps unconscious. Regardless, he needed to know if she was alive or not.

Whether he could make up for his failure, or not.

That was what troubled him the most, above all else. The loss of his left arm, a consequence of his failure, on that Manda forsaken rock, did not pose an issue as large as the former in his mind. It paled in comparison to failing his years-long comrade.

The aftermath of the massive battle over Tython had several surprises in store for him as well, which added up over his underlying issue. Eliz, the kid they all thought had fallen in combat over Panatha all that time ago, was not only alive, but had found his way back home, albeit his memory seemed to be partial. A traumatic brain injury, perhaps.

His beloved daughter, who faded into the Netherworld during the climax of the battle for Tython’s defense, had returned to him two days after the battle had concluded. He was informed of her absence post-battle, but something within him, maybe the Manda, had given him the sense of heart’s-ease; he felt it in his soul she was fine, and Manda be praised, she was.

However, all of it took its toll on the aging warrior regardless, one way or the other.

And he had chosen the best way he ever knew to deal with such issues that troubled him; some solitude, some time alone to process it all and figure out his next step to move forward.

Although the Alor was no recluse, or withdrawn, he stubbornly abstained from asking for help from others as much as he could, with anything, even if his situation would have demanded otherwise, and would have proved to be beneficial for him.

His mistakes, failures, shortcomings and the consequences of them all; they were none other than his burden to carry over his shoulders.

Fading into obscurity to recover both in body and in mind, the giant had spent a week alone in his retreat on the frozen landscape of Kestri, known only by less than a handful of people, with very little tech with him other than his beskar’gam; the latter’s functions turned off for the most part.

Carrying out his usual, daily routine, the giant sat on a foldable chair with a fishing rod in his hand, in front of a hole he carved on the frozen lake; he waited patiently for his lunch to bite on the alluring bait attached on the hook, as his long, obsidian black kama fluttered in the frosty, gentle wind.

Although her cold was harsh and unforgiving through and through -some would call it bitter and inhospitable- Kestri’s wilderness had a particular serenity he could not find anywhere else in the galaxy. The only sentient being he had seen was one week ago, and it was from a distance; a fellow vod hunting some game, traversed the forests, unaware of the giant’s vigilant gaze.

The peace and quiet he longed for would be disturbed at the sound of the lily white snow crunching softly underneath a pair of boots, coming from the treeline several dozen yards to his rear. He could hear the footsteps hasten as they drew nearer with each step.

The giant’s brows furrowed slightly underneath his helmet in response. Calmly tucking the fishing rod’s handle between his thighs, the leather holster by his right hip over his kama crackled softly as he nonchalantly drew forth a particle blaster pistol. Flicking the safety off with his thumb, the giant pointed the blaster a few feet in front of the individual without so much as sparing a glance, and squeezed back the trigger.

The sharp whine of the mastercrafted blaster echoed once over the frozen landscape stretching around them. Holstering the pistol with one swift motion afterwards, the giant grasped the fishing rod once more with his one good hand, returning to fishing.

Uncaring who the person might have been, he had made his point clear, or so he hoped. He did not seek interaction, and desired to be left alone until he could recover.

To his surprise, the familiar voice of his daughter, however, rang sharply in the cold air.

"WHAT THE KARK, BUIR! WHAT THE KRIFFING KARK! WHY WOULD YOU KARABASTING DO THAT! KARKING HOTH! ASHLA'S CHIT! THE KARK!"

His lips thinned underneath the helmet visor as he took a glance at her from over his right shoulder. The Alor heaved a muffled sigh as his gaze fell back over the hole before him. He did not need her help or the help of others, but expressing that to her would prove to be ineffective. His girl was as stubborn as he was.

Leaning slightly forward on his chair, the giant would finally break his silence when she would walk closer. <”Hello, Gwyn’ika.”> he would murmur, falling into silence again as he would listen to what she had to say, while his gaze remained over the ice fishing hole.

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

If Kranak Vizsla had thought Gwyn would calm down after only two words and a cold shoulder, he had something else coming. Seeing him just return to fishing the way he did made her angry, actually. This was the first time she saw him in a week, running around like the hare she was, and his greetings were underwhelming if not insulting. She gritted her teeth beneath her buy'ce. It took no Force Sensitive to sense how she felt in this moment, clenching her fists.

She took two other steps forward, standing right next to the folding chair. She crossed her arms, tapping her fingers against her armor. She tilted her head, helmet dipping a bit as she looked at her buir.

<"Some reunion. First you shoot me, now you ignore me?">

She bent down, her her visor facing the side of his helm very closely, <"You do remember how I hate being ignored, right? Pay attention to me.">

She sighed and walked over to the ice hole. She already could sense every fish below, with how insane her Force Sense could extend. She reached down and used to Force to pull two fish right out of the water. She dropped them onto the ice, letting them flop. She turned and looked back at Kranak, <"There. Dinner is caught. I'll start a fire and get these guys cooked up for us. You don't need to get any others.">

She turned and picked up both fish, once again using the Force to lift them to her arms. Despite her obvious crossness, she sang a bit, like a mother happy to make a treat for their child, <"You get the big one!">

It was easy to start a fire when one's beskar'gam came with a flamethrower. The fish were being cooked steadily over a fire, though Gwyn was worried due to her lack of cooking skills. Even cooking for herself after Eliz's disappearance did not make her a good cook. Now that Eliz Krayt was back, she hoped she could taste his delicious cooking again. She missed the moments when they both came home from missions, Eliz cooking while Gwyn fixed any damaged equipment both had. She had grown up eating artificial, manufactured trash. Eliz was the one who had taught her what real food was.

Of course, making sure she did not burn this fish was a challenge. But she did not want to undercook it either! She grumbled a bit. From the side of the lake where she set the fire up, she called to her buir, "Okay, do you have any salt? You can salt these, right?"

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

The giant remained silent and motionless as his daughter walked closer. Standing right beside him now, her helmet visor was merely an inch away from his own as she leaned down forward towards her father from the side.

<"Some reunion. First you shoot me, now you ignore me?">

She bent down, her her visor facing the side of his helm very closely, <"You do remember how I hate being ignored, right? Pay attention to me.">​

Although he remained silent, the Mandalorian’s visor turned to meet her’s; his daughter’s obsidian black visor prevented him from seeing her cybernetic eyes, but he could feel the anger and heartbreak in her those pair of amber, artificial pupils, cutting deep into his soul.

He did not ignore her, no. He just did not want her to bear even an ounce of the consequences of his own shortcomings weighing her down from her shoulders. She had troubles of her own to deal with.

The giant’s gaze trailed after her as she let out an annoyed sigh, and walked past him towards the ice hole. Her hand reached forth a moment after. Drawing on her force abilities, much to the giant’s disapproval, he remained silent as he watched her pull two fish out from the ice hole.

<"There. Dinner is caught. I'll start a fire and get these guys cooked up for us. You don't need to get any others.">

The Alor’s chest plate rose and fell as he silently heaved a deep sigh in wordless response. Moments such as this, like hunting or fishing, a privilege to taste and experience in its own right to begin with, deserved a display of patience. Being hasty or impatient with a hunt took the challenge and enjoyment away.

Patience.

One day, he knew she would see the virtues of patience for herself. He had tried to show them to her during her training when she was just a Foundling under his care, but she was too much of a teenager for his lessons to get through to her at the time, despite her extraordinary intellect. She was barely dry behind the ears. A faint smile emerged from his features underneath the helmet faceplate. Her impatient, rash demeanor reminded him of his younger self. Over time, he had grown to be more patient, reserved, and stoic. She would follow in his steps in due time like she always had, he assumed.

Despite her obvious crossness, she sang a bit, like a mother happy to make a treat for their child, <"You get the big one!">

He couldn’t help a soft chuckle escape him as he went about packing up the fishing equipment after rising to his feet from the folding chair as she walked towards the edge of the treeline towards whence she came, with the pair of fish in her hands. The giant would join her soon after he finished packing up.

​

The wood and twine crackled under his firm grasp as he made his way back to the fire Gwyn had set up with the firewood he gathered to feed the flames. The flamer was helpful to light one up, but the fire had to be fed some fuel to keep the flames alive in order to cook up their lunch.

She called to her buir, "Okay, do you have any salt? You can salt these, right?"

The giant shook his head in response as he approached the fire. <”There is some back in the cabin, but it is fine without it,”> He said as he threw down the firewood he gathered beside him. <”Tastier without it.”> The giant muttered as he sat cross-legged on the snow by the fire, right across his daughter. The cabin was a ways away; it wasn’t really worth the hike to get a handful of salt for their meal.

He would fall silent again for some time again, simply heating up by the warm embrace of the flames before him, listening to the crackling fire and the sizzling of meat, cooking over the wood fire.

<”I am not unwell, young one,”> He said stoically, breaking his silence at last. He reached for a firewood beside him. Poking the fire with the twig, the giant broke it in half in his hand soon after, and threw it into the fire to feed the flames. <” You need not to worry about me. Your assistance is not required.”>

The giant stuck to his guns. He could not share the load off his shoulders with somebody else. Not easily, anyway. Even though his situation demanded otherwise, and had demanded otherwise in the past when faced to undergo the supposed loss of Eliz, and her daughter, all that time ago. Dark days they were, for the giant.

He only needed some time, some time alone to get it together and pick himself up.

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

While Kranak took over manning the fire, Gwyneira sat with her legs crossed and tucked in, as if meditating. If it were not for her buy'ce covering it, Kranak Vizsla would indeed see that the half-Arkanian had her eyes closed, using the Force the further read him. As if she needed to meditate to get a clearer picture. Her Force Sense already was incredible. Still, she tried… though beyond much his mind was too clouded and resistant to breach. And she did not want to cause any feelings of invasion in the mind. Still, she sat and sensed what she could. She could sense a dam, desperately holding the water in despite its cracking structure. The water was bursting through the seems, ready to destroy the dam from the inside. Workers desperately tried repairing the dam, and they were professionals. Yet, despite everything, some kind of crack remained in the dam's durasteel structure. The dam was failing to hold. Even if it did not shatter today, it would eventually… even if it took years.

She opened her eyes again, looking over to him as he reassured her that he was just fine, that he did not need taken care of. Gwyneira was about ready to scoff and laugh at that! But she held her tongue as he continued to fuel the fire. Gwyn lifted a hand, turning the fish over with her own stick. Gwyneira then lowered the stick, watching him.

She contemplated how to approach this for a moment. She was pretty tired, could she even do this well? She was still bad at interacting with her loved ones in way, considering how she spent so much of her life alone. That loneliness, however, was a loneliness she hated the idea of her loved ones suffering. She knew Kranak had a tendency to bottle things up. She noticed those kinds of things. She just did not how exactly how to approach the man who had saved her from herself so many times before…

Eventually, her subconscious Force Sense gave her a good start.

She spoke. Due to how her buy'ce blocked her face, it may have seemed out of the blue to Kranak, who would not see her face prior to speaking. She once again tended to the fish as she spoke, <"I always could sense things in the Force, even if I didn't know what it was. Feelings that I should avoid that allyway down the street from my mum's. Somehow being able to read a conversation too well. Stuff like that. Right now, I can sense every single fish in that lake, under the ice. Their swimming to and fro' in the water. I can sense the wildlife in the trees. I can also sense another vod some distance away. The Netherworld has only made my Force Sense even sharper.">

She looked up from the cooking fish and right at Kranak, <"I can sense you. I can sense that you're pent up inside. You feel like a grenade slowly detonating. You're hiding things, and you think you can somehow handle it alone.">

She stood up, powdered snow hanging off her beskar'gam and cybernetic leg. She walked over to Kranak and, despite Kestri's insane temperature, removed her helmet. She bent down to him, giving him a soft smile. Emotion glistened in her cybernetic eyes as she looked right into his expressionless visor. "You didn't think I would let you poison yourself, did you? I care about you too much to leave you to drown."

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

She once again tended to the fish as she spoke, <"I always could sense things in the Force, even if I didn't know what it was. Feelings that I should avoid that allyway down the street from my mum's. Somehow being able to read a conversation too well. Stuff like that. Right now, I can sense every single fish in that lake, under the ice. Their swimming to and fro' in the water. I can sense the wildlife in the trees. I can also sense another vod some distance away. The Netherworld has only made my Force Sense even sharper.">

She looked up from the cooking fish and right at Kranak, <"I can sense you. I can sense that you're pent up inside. You feel like a grenade slowly detonating. You're hiding things, and you think you can somehow handle it alone.">

The young one’s ability to sense and read the tempestuous feelings the giant had got caught in, did not surprise him in a way she had presumed. He was aware that her innate ability in the Force was only honed further during her time in the Netherworld, as she had told explained to him after her return. Lacking the ability of sight, as her cybernetics and other belongings did not fade along with her when she emerged into the Netherworld, she had made use of her other senses, which only sharpened, and heightened them in turn.

The crackling flames danced before his obsidian black visor; he listened to her in silence. His helmet turned away from the fire to the side ever so slightly at her likening him to that of a cooking grenade; it’s fuze burning out, nearing detonation that was nigh inevitable.

And she was not wrong.

The giant’s features sharpened underneath his helmet faceplate, his brows furrowed. It grew... difficult, to bear with his shortcomings, his failures. He blamed none other than himself for his comrade’s downfall into damnation.

Why was he denied the death he was owed on that Manda forsaken planet? Instead of the particle bolt landing just short of his left shoulder, why couldn’t it land straight on his throat?

Was continuing to live to be his punishment, handed out to him by the Manda? Or did they have something else in store for him? The Manda was not through with him yet, he knew as much.

He could not find a reasonable answer to these questions in his mind, and that drove him mad with each passing day. However, despite the circumstance he found himself in, the giant could make out the faint ray of light, of salvation, shining down upon him. He had to find her. Learn of her fate; honor her memory if the Wardog had begun the long march to the Oversoul, make it up to her with his future deeds; if she was alive, then look for salvation under the watchful, ever present gaze of the Manda, together. Help her find the way back to The Path, in some form.

The Alor’s visor shifted from the snow covered soil; his gaze trailed his daughter as she walked up to him. Her helmet depressurized with a faint hiss as she removed her helm; a pair of amber pupils peered deep into his soul.

Emotion glistened in her cybernetic eyes as she looked right into his expressionless visor. "You didn't think I would let you poison yourself, did you? I care about you too much to leave you to drown."

His features softened as her gaze met the Vizsla’s visor as dark as outer space. He couldn’t help but crack a faint smile of his own; her eyes, although synthetic, a mere implant that had replaced the natural that had to be removed for the betterment of her own health, carried powerful emotions that words could not quite do justice while describing them. The pair of amber pupils glistened with the pure, uncorrupt love a child harbored for their loving parent, mixing with a hint of fiery determination and stubbornness to drag him from the sea of despair he was drowning in.

She was as stubborn as he was.

He greatly admired her persistence, and the love and care she had for him; but she possibly could not offer a solution to his problems, the Alor assumed. Could the young one really show him an alternative solution to his problems he could not think of at the time, or help him see something he could not?

The giant’s gaze slowly shifted from the girl as he reached for another firewood from the pile beside him. <”I must atone,”> he muttered as he fed the flames with the firewood. <”My hand is… drenched in their blood, just as hers.”> the flames crackled as the giant fed the fire.

<”If I hadn’t failed, if I had found her before the Maw turned her against us all…”> the men that had reached martyrdom on that day by her hand, would have still been alive. But alas, their sagas were cut short. Their stories were left unfinished as their spirits faded into the Mandalorian oversoul.

The giant fell silent once more; the recording of the Wardog sinking her durasteel teeth on Prudii’s throat, ripping it open in one swift motion, unfolded before his eyes. He felt the immense guilt from their deaths; they had died under his command. Under the pressure of that guilt, the Vizsla had begun to crack, crumbling slowly under the weight of guilt, mounting on his shortcomings and failures he was already suffering deeply from.

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Shame.

Damnable shame.

Guilt. Insane guilt, eating him up and devouring the very bones. It was like a swarm of anookas, descending viciously upon its prey with no mercy, eating it alive.

This was not the first time he was feeling these things either.

A part of her felt like it was her own fault, due to one argument they had after she had been rescued from her biological sire. She lowered her buy'ce, the one made from Kranak's own beskar'gam breastplate, and placed it upon his lap. She turned and sat down next to him, wondering how she could possibly help him. Save him...

She sighed, puffs of warm breath departing from her lips. Despite all this confusion, she knew where to start. "Buir, do you think I want to watch you suffer? Your 'atoning,' do you think I'd just let you do that to yourself?"

She looked up to him, tears in her eyes, "Just don't, okay? Don't destroy yourself that way. It hurts!"

She could sense his desire to have died. Had he forgotten her similar feelings, prior to Tython? "I wanted to die too! I even tried! And now I know it caused you pain, and I'm sorry! When I melted into the Netherworld, I realized how much I needed to come back!"

She reached and took his remaining hand, "Don't you go anywhere!"

She was so tempted to give into the rage that came with Shai's name. The betrayal and agony. Shai had betrayed her clan, the Enclave, and her loved ones. How could she do that! How dare she torment Kranak Vizsla like this! Gwyn wanted nothing more in this moment than to torture and kill the wardog herself. She craved her death, the mother figure who turned her back so cruelly. But Gwyneira had to steady herself. Reciting all the wrong Shai had done would not ease Kranak's guilt.

She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to calm herself. She opened her eyes again, speaking in a calmer voice, "Shai's actions were not your doing. You are not responsible for her deeds."

She bit back the fury Shai brought her and continued to speak, "Shai is responsible for her own actions. You are not responsible for the lives she took. She is."

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

She sighed, puffs of warm breath departing from her lips. Despite all this confusion, she knew where to start. "Buir, do you think I want to watch you suffer? Your 'atoning,' do you think I'd just let you do that to yourself?"

His memories of their confrontation over Tython was rekindled, but the young one’s voice would prevent the Mandalorian’s mind from drifting any further than that. Removing his gaze from the fire, the giant’s gaze fell on her helmet she placed over his lap. The Vizsla remained wordless as he listened to his daughter, his visor shifted away from her helmet to her features; her eyes glistened ever so slightly with tears starting to well up as she spoke.

She looked up to him, tears in her eyes, "Just don't, okay? Don't destroy yourself that way. It hurts!"

She could sense his desire to have died. Had he forgotten her similar feelings, prior to Tython? "I wanted to die too! I even tried! And now I know it caused you pain, and I'm sorry! When I melted into the Netherworld, I realized how much I needed to come back!"​

Her words struck the giant true; her voice trilled with genuine sorrow, and rightful concern towards her father.

Inhaling the freezing air of Kestri sharply, the giant closed his eyes shut as his helmet turned away from her features. He never forgot the day she tried to commit the unthinkable, her attempt at taking her own life. The thought of such a thing alone damned him. It was in the past now, but it would be among the scars that would never truly heal.

She reached and took his remaining hand, "Don't you go anywhere!"

The giant’s eyes fluttered open at an instant; the featureless helmet visor turned towards the young one as she held his right hand. The giant embraced her hands with a loving grasp of his own. <”Never,”> he muttered, without a moment’s thought. It cut him to the bone that she hinted at the possibility of him attempting to take his own life. The giant’s hand gently slipped from her grasp. Raising his hand forth, the giant softly caressed her cheek, at an attempt to soothe her troubled mind. <”Never.”> The giant repeated with an emphasis. The young one was one of the few things he deeply cared for in his life. He would not do such a selfish thing and leave her forever, deeply scarred.

It was true he craved for the release of death, but he would not be the one to take his life by his own hand.

But he would also welcome the fate he was destined, foreseen and known only to the Manda.

He watched her fall into silence in return; taking a deep shaky breath, taking a moment to keep her calm before she opened her eyes, and spoke once more; in a more calmer tone than before.

She closed her eyes and sighed, trying to calm herself. She opened her eyes again, speaking in a calmer voice, "Shai's actions were not your doing. You are not responsible for her deeds."

She bit back the fury Shai brought her and continued to speak, "Shai is responsible for her own actions. You are not responsible for the lives she took. She is."​

The giant grinned bitterly underneath the helmet faceplate at her words and her commendable attempt to ease his mind. She did not understand. He did not expect her to. Her past experiences were not truly comparable to his. She did not experience what letting down a fellow brother, or sister-in-arms just meant; and Manda willing, she wouldn’t have to experience that, hopefully avoiding the fate her buir experienced now.

They had watched each other’s back for so long as they fought the numerous, and equally as nefarious and heinous enemies of their people, from their time in the Union Army, then later in the Enclave’s esteemed ranks of the Si’kahya; they had bled together, and had shed the blood of their foes together in battles, skirmishes, firefights and frontlines beyond number.

She did not understand.

Slowly pulling back his hand from her cheek, the giant held her hands in his gentle grasp. The giant heaved a deep, muffled breath of sigh as his gaze dipped down slowly, before looking up at the pair of amber pupils again. <”Thank you, ad’ika.”> He said, as he leaned forward to wrap her in his gentle embrace, pulling her into a hug. Her efforts to ease his troubled mind, although did not yield the results she had desired, did not go unappreciated.

Ease his troubled mind… that was something he would have to do, and alone.

He knew what he had to do.

Holding her in his gentle embrace, the giant would pull back only at the mouth watering scent of their cooked meal, wafting in the air. Tending to their meal, the giant made sure they were cooked nicely before removing them from the fire. <”Meal’s ready.”>

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

When Kranak Vizsla assured her that he would not hurt himself, Gwyn trembled in relief. He held her hand, caressed her cheek, and hugged her. Some of own worries were eased, but she was still was suspicious of how he just... thanked her and moved on. Did he not know that she also enjoyed using this tactic? But even then, Gwyn sensed a determination, a purpose, in him. Was it self destructive, or had she managed to salvage some strength in him? What was he planning?

For now, she helped skewer the fish and handed one stick to Kranak, the big one she had promised. She started eating the small one, bland as it was.

"Mmphf, how do you think this is better without salt? Eliz makes way better fish. - No offense!"

As they continued to eat, Gwyn spit out some bones, carefully. She was getting more used to eating real food with bones or pits within. This was way different than the processed, consistent cubes she had eaten growing up. At least, in the wild, she could carelessly leave fish bone on the ground for little creatures to snack on.

During the meal, her gaze kept shifting to where his other arm should be. She wondered... would he want a cybernetic limb? She had gotten one first chance she got, but she knew that Kranak was likely going to take longer. They were both escape artists when it came to their limbs, but in opposite ways. She looked back to her half eaten fish, pulling another bite out.

The silence dragged on.

Gwyn finally lowered her stick, opening up the topic. "Soooo... were you considering getting a new arm yet? You know I can make you one, right?"

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

The giant’s helmet depressurized with a soft hiss of air; he felt the stimulating, biting cold of Kestri on his features as he removed his helm, and set it on the snow covered soil right beside him. Mercilessly cold air stabbed his lungs sharply as he heaved a deep breath. Shifting his daughter’s helmet from his lap to beside his own, he gave a nod of his head and smiled faintly at his daughter; the giant expressed a wordless gratitude to her as he reached for the stick with the fish skewered on its end. He would listen to his daughter’s minor complaint about the meal as he took a bite from his meal.

She started eating the small one, bland as it was.

"Mmphf, how do you think this is better without salt? Eliz makes way better fish. - No offense!"​

He couldn’t contain a chuckle as he chewed his bite. He ate his meal with more relish than the food warranted. “Perhaps a little seasoning would not be so bad, after all. Nevertheless, it is still better than ration cubes though,” the giant said after swallowing his bite. Seasoning or not however, he cared not. He had to eat things that tasted far worse than a fish, nicely cooked over firewood that lacked only seasoning, when he underwent the survival training course as a part of his Supercommando training, when the Mandalorian Union still stood.

Falling into silence as they went about eating their meal, he couldn’t help but feel the young one’s gaze over him, fixated particularly on his left shoulder; the particle blaster bolt had landed over the joint with surgical precision, disarticulating his left arm from the shoulder joint.

It was easy to understand where she was going with that look. Breaking the silence, the girl spoke his mind.

Gwyn finally lowered her stick, opening up the topic. "Soooo... were you considering getting a new arm yet? You know I can make you one, right?"

The giant remained silent for a moment as he considered his options; Taking another bite, he chewed immersed in thought. He had considered his options for it before, but he was still on the fence about a cybernetic replacement. A part of him viewed flesh and bone to be more reliable than machine, as much as he was aware of the combat advantages of cybernetics.

But it was the quickest possible replacement for a limb lost, no matter his preconception of a cybernetic limb. He had set his mind to go after the Scoundrel, and discover the Wardog’s fate. He knew of the former’s combat capabilities, having experienced it first hand during their face off on Tython. He could not go after him, not while suffering from the numerous disadvantages of a missing limb imposed on him.

Having made his decision after giving the subject matter one last thought, the giant gave a nod of his head as he swallowed his bite. He had emerged from every single combat operation he had undertaken until Tython, without the loss of a single limb, or appendage for that matter. It was something he took pride in; thus, that made it difficult to swallow his pride, but he knew he needed her help. “I would be grateful if you could provide me with a… replacement.” He said, answering her question, and accepting her offer of a cybernetic replacement for his lost arm, rather unwillingly.

After finishing the remainder of their meal in silence, the giant extinguished the fire using the snow around them, and made sure the embers of the fire either turned to ash, or was cold to the touch. After cleaning up the site, the Vizsla slipped on his helmet afterwards; the obsidian black visor of his helm flickered to life with a snow white glow, as it pressurized with a faint hiss. <”Alright. Let’s go, lass.”>

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

The Tauntaun was located not far from Vizsla's initial location. Soon enough, duo group would come across familiar ship. The loading ramp lowered, welcoming the group into the ship. The walls were very individualistic. The once clean and simplistic white walls were painted different colors and covered with bits and pieces of graffiti art. Stuff ranging from Arkanian heritage to Mandalorian culture. Anti-Sith curses and spray painted Mandalorian Creeds. The names of her loved ones, even her biological mother's name. Shai Krayt's name once painted a deep red, now blotched out by the strokes of a black paintbrush. All the rooms were like this, even entering the first half of the ship. Gwyn motioned Kranak into the recreation room, complete with a kitchen and living room area. Gwyn tapped the computer system on the kitchen counter, turning it on. She pulled up engineering and computing diagnostics and blueprints. Her eight fingers furiously tapped and clicked the keyboard and touch screen. While still pulling files up, she asked, <" Okay, where do we start? Oh, feel free to help yourself to anything extra in the fridge. My cooking is bad though, so you should grab one of the protein bars if anything. Oh! For your arm, I'm going to need a scan of your arm. This kind of crosses into biology, but... I need to make sure that the arm will be compatible.">

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

It wasn’t long for the two of them to reach the girl’s craft; set down on an opening in the forest that provided enough clearance for The Tauntaun to land. The ramp’s hydraulics hissed and whined with a soft, mechanical thrum as it lowered onto the lily-white snow covered soil. Following his daughter a few steps behind, the giant’s pace slowed down as he silently admired her creativity covering the interior walls of her ship.

Strangely enough, this was going to be his first time aboard her ship. He had not set foot onto this craft before, until today.

The Vizsla extended his one good towards the wall. He ran his fingers along the wall, painted in lively colors as he silently admired her work behind his helmet faceplate. He could not say he had a taste in art, caring not for such things in life. But seeing one of her ways of expressing her feelings and creativity intrigued him always. The paintings had rekindled many memories they’ve made in their safehouse on Kaddak; both good and bad. It felt like it was a lifetime ago, those days.

The giant let out a muffled chuckle as his gaze trailed off from the beautiful, abstract patterns and onto the creative insults against the Sith. Some of them were quite humorous, which got a cackle out of him, and some of them were quite creative.

His gaze shifted from the curses and profanities hostile towards the Sith in nature, from the colorful and intricate works of art painted over the durasteel interior wall and onto a number of names; intermingling with the pattern of the paintings, or the works of art, or they were works of art themselves. Although there was only one he couldn’t make out, many of which he recognized easily with just a glance.

His gaze would halt over one of them as he stopped before it; broad strokes of black were brushed over it, but he could still make out the maroon underneath as it poked out from a handful of spots left untouched. It took him a moment to make out the name. A bitter grin emerged from his features from underneath the glowing helmet visor.

He knew the Wardog had meant a lot to the young lass, the way the Shistavanen meant a lot to him; a mother figure for her, almost. Although she didn’t let on her grievance when it came to the Shistavanen changing sides and fighting under the damnable banner of The Maw the way he did, he knew she suffered from it to an extent, as well.

A muffled, synthesized sigh crackled through his helmet annunciator as his gaze remained over Shai’s name on the wall. He would be denied further thought as the voice of his daughter reached his ears from another compartment of the ship.

<" Okay, where do we start? Oh, feel free to help yourself to anything extra in the fridge. My cooking is bad though, so you should grab one of the protein bars if anything.">

Turning his back to the name on the wall after one last brief glance, the giant walked down the corridor and entered what seemed to be the recreational compartment of the ship with a built-in kitchen. The young one was standing before a console by the kitchen counter, interacting with the former’s interface for what he assumed was for the procedure for the cybernetic arm replacement.

<"Oh! For your arm, I'm going to need a scan of your arm. This kind of crosses into biology, but... I need to make sure that the arm will be compatible.">

<”Of course.”> The giant acknowledged, as he drew near to her. Standing a few feet beside her by the kitchen counter, he would remain still for the scan to take place. Aware of her capabilities fully, the giant hadn’t had any second doubts about placing his trust and health into his daughter’s capable little hands.

<”How have you been holding up lately, ad’ika?”> The giant asked while the scanner ran its course, taking a scan of his body, and where his left arm used to be once.

He was aware of her own issues she had to deal with. Passing the Mandalorian rite of passage, into what’s considered adulthood by Mandalorian standards, the responsibilities she carried on her shoulders only increased. He knew she had started her own company by now, The Iron Heart Forgeworks, and although he did not know just how stressful being a CEO was, he knew it was quite the tough undertaking.

Although her duties were numerous, and equally burdening, if there was anyone out there that could overcome them, it had to be her; he had no doubts about that in his mind.

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Gwyn finished scanning with her lifescan pro and started tapping the information into the computer. While she was making further configurations, he asked her how she was doing.

A brief pause and falter in her fingers' tapping, then she started back to it. No. No, right now was supposed to be her stress relief! Engineering and mechanical operating were her stress relievers. Why did her buir have to bring up her well being now?

Still, the question lingered in her mind. The same with all the struggles she had. She was... overwhelmed. She eventually stopped working on the computer. Lowering her hands, she dipped her head and sighed.

<"I...">

She was exhausted.

She looked away for a moment. She was trying to convince her buir to be more open towards her. Had she forced her own situation now that way? What kind of hypocrite would she be for closing herself off now? She closed her eyes, lifting her head. She reached up and pulled her buy'ce off. Setting it carefully on the counter, she opened her eyes. Despite not wanting to bog her father down even more than he was, she admitted it.

"I worry about Eliz a lot, his memories and health. I've been trying to figure out what I should do as a Karjr. Being a a CEO is challenging. I'm flip flopping between planets, traveling constantly. I'm tired."

The circles under her eyes made it very obvious that she was drained. The fact that she had nightmares did not make this easier.

"And I still have nightmares about... him and... th-that pla-ace..."

She froze, her hands shaking. No. Nonono. She was not supposed to get all weak like this! Not when she was trying to look after her suffering buir! But she... she...

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

At her father’s words, the young one came to an abrupt pause while she was busy with feeding data to the console to carry out the medical procedure. Silent for the moment, the girl glanced down from the screen before her with a sigh; her suspiration trilled with noticeable exhaustion.

<"I...">

She tried to speak, but words refused to come out of her mouth. He knew that feeling all too well. Assumedly having mustered the courage to speak of her own troubles after a moment passing in silence, the giant remained silent as she reached for her helm, and removed it, setting it on the counter beside the console. The Vizsla’s gaze behind his glowing visor, met with the pair of amber pupils as she poured out her soul.

"I worry about Eliz a lot, his memories and health. I've been trying to figure out what I should do as a Karjr. Being a a CEO is challenging. I'm flip flopping between planets, traveling constantly. I'm tired."

The circles under her eyes made it very obvious that she was drained. The fact that she had nightmares did not make this easier.

"And I still have nightmares about... him and... th-that pla-ace..."

She froze, her hands shaking.​

What he had perceived of her troubles from before were accurate, but the mention of the nightmares resurfacing more frequently, was not a good sign. The Vizsla muttered an unmentional curse in silence at the man responsible for the young one’s nightmares. That man, the kid’s biological father, was a creature far from deserving the title of “father”, with the torture he had put her through over the course of her life, until the day the giant tore him to shreds with his hands.

He knew she could not get rid of them completely. How could she? The things she had endured, he’d wish upon no one but the nefarious enemies of their people. Although she had told him she was waking up from the nightmares less and less, over the course of the last few months, her experience at the hands of that monster had left a wound in her psyche that ran very deep, and seemed almost impossible to heal.

Although her new responsibilities did little to help her situation, her new duties demanded only some time to get adjusted to. In time, she would feel less and less overwhelmed. It was difficult to adapt to it, but not impossible. He had felt about the same during his deployments as a Supercommando; from one theater of battle to another, they did not have a lot of time to recuperate in between deployments. It took its toll on one’s psyche, regardless of the fact they all just gritted their teeth, bearing with it all. Their sense of duty helped them bear it, even when things became unbearable.

But Gwyn’ika? The young lass needed his support, more so than before.

Wordlessly, his hand reached forth. The Mandalorian tenderly grabbed her by her left bicep, pulling the dithering young lass into a loving embrace. Caressing her hair in slow and gentle strokes, the giant gently pressed her head against his chest plate as he hugged her.

Regardless of the troubles of his own that darkened his soul, it was his duty to be there for her as her father, first and foremost. Especially at times she needed him the most. Everything else, even the issues that troubled his mind relentlessly, was secondary now.

<”You will never be alone, ad’ika. I am always here for you. Never forget that,”> The giant said with utmost sincerity as his one armed embrace tightened over her ever so slightly. <”We will overcome the challenges ahead of us, like we always do.”> He said, continuing to hold the young one in his loving embrace. Falling silent, the giant’s thoughts would drift in the search of possible solutions to her troubles, mainly for the most important of the bunch; her psychological trauma. The mind needed to be as strong as the body.

It was among the few things he could not provide to her on his own. He was trained to heal visible injuries, not the ones that remained unseen. They would require the help of a professional for this.

And he had just the Mandalorian in mind for it. A venerable Shaman of their people, of the Mandokarla.

A warrior people, whom their ancestors had filled the hearts of aruetiise with fear many milennia ago, and to this day, the craft the Mandalorians were known and rightfully feared for, was bloodshed, killing, and war. Regardless of how strong they were in mind, all of it took its toll on them regardless. Spiritual guidance helped significantly.

The young lass could certainly use that.

Although fallen silent, the Vizsla would wait for an opportunity to suggest that she seeked the council of a Shaman, the one both of them came to know on Panatha.

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

When her buir hugged her, Gwyneira melted into it. She felt so guilty. She was supposed to be helping him! His depression was so worrying to her. A struggle she had not mentioned when he asked how she was. And yet, after barely seeing him since Tython, she was in desperate need of his love. Growing up her entire life feeling like an unwanted, unnecessary burden, she was still wondering how much her troubles annoyed him.

However, Kranak Vizsla was nothing but supportive. When he spoke to her, he heavily emphasized his being there for her. This, this was her father. Not the biological sire who had tormented her so. She tightened her hug, her confusion, sorrow, and love all mixing. The absence of his other arm was killing her. The fact that he had been injured like this, and the echoes of memories of Eliz losing his arm, all scrambled her brain.

She sighed. Her mind as a whole felt like a mess. Her childhood traumas, the agony of her loved ones being hurt and leaving her, her current struggles as a Mandalorian, and so much more were tugging her. Her journey through the Netherworld has been long, disorienting, and garbled. She had learned to fear the Dark Side there. Even now, the Dark Side always was nagging her, tempting her. Her emotions made it so easy...

She sniffled, pulling away and slumping. Her shoulders sagged, and her posture was hunkered. She lowered her head, "I feel like... I can't control my own head."

She lifted her head, lifted her hand, "I feel like a sliced computer, all garbled and scrambled and disoriented."

She placed a hand on her forehead. Her eyes were narrowed in thought and desperation for clarity. "I-I-I never was at ease. I never was sound, I don't know what it feels like not to have shards clogging my own mind. But it's been getting worse. Since Eliz's death and being captured, I feel like I've shattered. And my mind is trying to fix itself but making things worse. Is it the Netherworld? Is it other circumstances? Is it just me? I feel the Dark Side constantly while running away from it! I-! Oh..."

She took the step back into Kranak's hug again. Her head just plopped against his chestplate.

"And my heart... I feel... Like lead... and fire... I want to tear it all out, it feels like a stinging venom. Extract it, leave it empty. I'm so used to feeling like ice, but my chest is always burning. I'm... scared of it... I can't control it, it feels like. And I want to..."

She wanted to shoot everything.
She wanted to torture and kill Shai for what she did.
She wanted to lock Kranak and Eliz in the most secure of prisons to guarantee their safety.
She wanted Arkania glassed. All of it.
She wanted to watch the Galaxy burn.
She wanted to use the Dark Side, feel its power, and crush anyone who even looked at her funny.

She craved...

... violence.

And she knew what she felt was wrong.

She was wrong.

She had always been wrong.

The glass shards making her brain bleed did not help it.

She felt too close to breaking, and it terrified her.

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

The giant tightened his heartfelt embrace around her ever so slightly, as best he could with a singular arm as the young girl hugged her tightly in her pure, heartfelt response, returning the giant’s loving embrace in kind. Locked in each other’s loving embrace for a long moment, as long as the young one needed, Kranak uttered not a word. In silence the Mandalorian contemplated ways to take and share the load off her shoulders.

Right now, the most glaring problem she faced, was him; the worry she harbored, albeit pure and carried a child’s innocent worry for their parent in distress, in hardship, it weighed her down, perhaps more than she liked to admit.

He could not let that continue. If not for his own sake, he would get better for her sake. She had a lot of things weighing her down already. The weight of his failures, their consequences, she did not need on her shoulders.

He could take it all on his own. And one way or the other, he would; in a way without resorting to heavy use of alcohol. He had become sober, and free of the bad habits of taking drugs to numb the pain, for her sake. Achieving that in the past, he would lessen his tendencies for alcohol for her, too.

Maybe not fully get rid of it, as he very much enjoyed a good drink, but at least avoid becoming a drunkard.

A sigh and a sniffle, the young lass pulled away from him slowly as her embrace unfurled.

Her posture slumped and her shoulders sagging, she looked deathly tired, as if she had just completed running a several dozen miles in full combat load. Speaking her mind, the giant wordlessly listened to his daughter.

"I feel like... I can't control my own head."

She lifted her head, lifted her hand, "I feel like a sliced computer, all garbled and scrambled and disoriented."

She placed a hand on her forehead. Her eyes were narrowed in thought and desperation for clarity. "I-I-I never was at ease. I never was sound, I don't know what it feels like not to have shards clogging my own mind. But it's been getting worse. Since Eliz's death and being captured, I feel like I've shattered. And my mind is trying to fix itself but making things worse. Is it the Netherworld? Is it other circumstances? Is it just me? I feel the Dark Side constantly while running away from it! I-! Oh..."

She took the step back into Kranak's hug again. Her head just plopped against his chestplate.

"And my heart... I feel... Like lead... and fire... I want to tear it all out, it feels like a stinging venom. Extract it, leave it empty. I'm so used to feeling like ice, but my chest is always burning. I'm... scared of it... I can't control it, it feels like. And I want to..."​

Hugging her tightly once again, the giant heaved a deep sigh in wordless response to the full revelation of the issues that troubled her young mind. She had experienced trauma that could last a man for two lifetimes; and at such a young age. <”It’s okay, baby,”> The giant muttered in a calming voice as his hand softly caressed her snow-white hair, trying to soothe her troubled mind and stem the rising tide of emotions the young one felt overtake her. <”It’s okay.”>

Her deteriorating psyche, mental health, cut him to the bone. What made him feel worse was that these invisible injuries she carried with her day and night, were among the very few things he was not quite qualified to provide assistance for.

He had experienced his fair share of trauma, and one way or the other, he had overcome them. And when she required his assistance so dearly in the past when she needed help to battle this, violent whirlwind of emotions that shook her to her core, he had given his assistance as best as he could; but it all appeared to have only postponed the inevitable.

But he did not fall into despair. Like bodily injuries, injuries that harmed one’s psyche could also be healed. And they had a solution for it.

<”There’s a small secluded village along the Cin’ciri Mountain Range,”> Kranak muttered in a soothing voice as they were locked in each other’s embrace again. <”The revered Mandokarla reside there, along with village folk. The view alone is worth the trip.”> The giant continued; he pulled back slowly ever so slightly to look at the young one’s pair of amber, cybernetic pupils. He remained in her loving embrace, still. <”Seek out The Speaker; Runi Kuryida. Speak to her; allow her to be a remedy for the issues that plague your mind,”> He continued to speak in a soft voice as he slowly raised his hand to her weary visage, caressing her cheek gently. <”Will you do this for me, ad’ika?”>

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Gwyn listened to Kranak's words carefully. She bit her lip, face wrinkling at the thought of telling a meager acquaintance about her deep, emotional baggage. And yet, it seemed that Kranak Vizsla, the Kranak Vizsla, so proud and alone in his march through life, was wiling to trust Runi with his daughter. She shuddered, knowing that she trusted Kranak with her life. She was… nearing her breaking point… Could she really just do this?

She lowered her head in defeat, heaving a sigh, "I'll look into it."

Kranak Vizsla

 

[Kranak Vizsla]

Tags: Gwyneira Vizsla

​

The young one’s wordless reaction to his request did not escape the giant’s vigilance. Gently caressing the young one’s cheek with his hand, a faint, understanding smile appeared underneath Kranak’s helmet faceplate. So stubborn, and prideful she was. Even though her situation required otherwise, she did not actively seek help from others; she relied on her abilities to overcome her troubles on her own. He understood her completely.

He could see himself in her, in many ways. The young one looked up to him a lot, after all. She was so much like him; always ready to extend a helping hand to friends and family in need, expecting nothing in return from them.

But also very much prideful and highly reluctant to accept such help from them in return when they needed such care to be shown back to them. Only when things reached to the boiling point did they accept the assistance offered to them, and with reluctance.

She lowered her head in defeat, heaving a sigh, "I'll look into it."

The giant slightly leaned forward, bowing his head down; the dome of his helmet gently pressed against her brow as his hand remained over her weary visage, caressing her features and her hair with fatherly love. <”Thank you, child,”> the man muttered; the dark brown eyes behind the white glimmering visor closed as he spoke. Locked in each other’s embrace, the giant would remain silent, and continued to return her hug in kind with his own for however long she needed him.

He knew just how difficult it would be for her, to seek help from others; he was more or less in the same situation as hers, it only differed in context. He too, required assistance, but he had somewhat gotten better at grinning and bearing it over the years.

But hers, and Eliz Krayt 's supposed deaths, had taken its toll on him when it occurred. Losing one’s comrades in battle was one thing, but the grief of losing a child? He prayed for Manda every waking day, thankful that did not actually occur, and they had been mistakenly regarded as killed in action. The mere, wrongful presumption of the truth before he found out, had led him down a very dark path he was still recovering from.

​

 

[Gwyneira Vizsla]

Gwyn held onto Kranak Vizsla , embracing the gentle touches and welcoming his warm comfort. She clung to him, still feeling guilty that she was unable to help him more. Eventually, they broke the bond and got to work on his his arm. Making the design, adding any Mandalorian style weaponry seen fit, all the bells and whistles.

Gwyn would never be able to bring back Kranak's arm. She would never be able to reserve time and slaughter Shai before she had the chance to even look at Kranak at Tython. She could not heal wounds, she was not a healer Kranak was. But she could do everything in her power to help him now, even if that meant helping herself too.

Both souls were frozen in self imposed isolation and war. But now, there was hope that the thaw had begun.

~ End ~​