To Sharpen the Blades of Mandalore

[Alkor Centaris]

At the request of Mand'alor, Alkor cleared out a large clearing near the banks of the Kalita and partitioned it off. The clearing was nearly a kilometer and a half, and could accommodate a large number of individuals for his intended purpose. Combat readiness was easily one of the most important aspects of Mandalorian life and culture, and ensuring every single Mando was prepared to go to war if [member="Yasha Mantis"] ever put out the call was his primary goal.

There was a section of sand where the unarmored, trainee fighters could square off without fear of falling, as well as firmer ground for the more seasoned veterans. The Kelita offered a chance to cool off and rest intermittently, as well as a training ground for those who dared to fight in the depths.

Weapons of all kinds were available to those who did not already have their own with them, both lethal for the more experienced, and less dangerous options. Alkor kept rations and drinkable water on hand to prevent overheating or exertion damage- a conscious and prepared Mando was a Mando who survived adversity, after all!

It was a clear and sunny day, slightly humid but bearable, and Keldabe thrived in the distance.

Spoiler

All Mandalorian Empire peeps are invited, anyone else by invite only.

[member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Raiz Australis"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Gray Raxis"] [member="Cassiopeia Australis] [member="Quoron Mantis"] [member="Lisset Australis"] [member="Connory"] [member="Caz Australis"] [member="Dorn Skirata"] [member="Amanda Kryze"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Skosk Australis"] [member="Rex Taff"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Keira Verd"] [member="Rhaegar Nemesis Dib"] [member="Ginnie Dib"] [member="Cynthia Solus"] [member="Aedan Miles"] [member="Acaleus Thorn"] [member="Jor Kvall"] [member="Ambrose Mantis"] [member="Nibsani"] [member="Skorvek"] [member="Lily-Grace Australis"] [member="Arthur Raven"] [member="Tom Taff"] [member="Mykes Vatak"] [member="Garrus Garon"] [member="Mavarah"] [member="Jake Awaud"]

 

[Keira Priest]

It wasn't often her brother personally invited her to things - usually, the two just happened to be in the same place at the same time - but this was a rare exception. He'd arranged a sort of group training exercise on Mandalore, and extended an offer for her to come along. It was one Keira had accepted, well-aware that even old warriors such as herself needed to keep themselves honed so they didn't lose their edge. Her only real practice lately had been the live battlefield, but that didn't bring with it the same enjoyment that training with one's friends and family did. An environment like this allowed her to relax just a sliver more, and enjoy her present company, even if they were trying to lay her out.

As always, she was fully armored, helmet tucked under one arm. The air on her face felt nice, and she ran a hand over her head, her hair slowly growing longer than its original buzz. Maybe she'd let it grow, but truth be told she'd grown a liking to the severe shortness of the cut. It was more practical than having to braid her hair up, and it was cooler both with and without a helmet. It was rare that her impulse decisions worked out entirely in her favor, but this was one of those rare moments. If only the rest of her spur-of-the-moment actions ended pleasantly, but she was rarely this fortunate.

Approaching, she raised a hand in greeting to her brother, "Su'cuy, vod'ika. Me'vaar ti gar?" Now that he actually understood the language, she could venture more than just a word or two before losing him. "I think the last time I fought a Mandalorian was beating Munin for the title. Be good to change that."

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

Had Clan Dathu arrived hours prior to the ramshackle of Verd? Yes, but it most certainly wasn't for any desire to train or show exceptional dedication to cause. Marvik had rallied his groaning mass of armored soldiers as soon as he'd seen her walk by with her handful of loyals. The whole of Dathu trailed behind them like a tail, their fearless leader at the head - guiding his men by the tottering of Keira's rear end.

Shameless would be an understatement of the way in which the Alor allowed his eyes to follow the woman, ignoring any of the scowls or scoffs that were most certainly being shot his way. If not by the Verds or the other clans, then by his own men who were slowly realizing the true reason they'd be dragged out to fraternize with the clans they hated so dearly. He didn't care. He aimed to stare, seduce and brawl his way into her...heart.

"Not that Munin was much of a fight," Marvik called from the rear as the train of Verds and Dathus came to a halt in the midst of the training ground. Resting his arm on the helmet magnetically strapped to his belt, Marvik allowed his eyes to drag up Keira's form as obviously as he could before caring to steal a glance at whoever it was she'd stopped to talk to. Another Verd maybe? Competition?

He gauged the man for a second, scratching at the scruff growing in on his otherwise sharp features, "heard he couldn't even hit a snob-nose Imperial at point-blank range. Not that I hear Verds are much better." He gave a sly grin at [member="Alkor Centaris"], then towards Keira.

"Wonder if present company can prove that wrong."

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Alkor almost never removed his armor, with the exception of his buy'ce while outside of places he felt safe. This was one of the few situations where he might do so, for the sake of training someone who had little to no experience. When he saw [member="Keira Verd"] and [member="Marvik Dathu"], he knew that would probably be unnecessary. His weapons were available in various positions on his armor, but his arms were crossed impatiently as he waited for others to arrive. He had been asked to lead a training day, but the trainees were late or absent altogether!

Leave it to Mandalorians to march to the beat of their own drum, he supposed.

"Su'cuy, Keira," he greeted with a subdued yawn. All of the set up took him since before dawn, so he was due for a short break. Alkor never said as much aloud, of course. "Don't worry, you're the first ones here. Everyone else is late." He could hardly taunt her if she was one of the only showers. Instead, he glanced up and down at her "friend" and considered his proposition.

"Dunno why you'd waste ammo on an Imp at point-blank," he mused with a smirk, "one good punch to the nose will put them down for good. Frail creatures, those."

He knew better than to play into the razzing. Blood got hot fast in Mandalorian circles, and he felt no desire to be part or parcel to a grudge match over minor harassment. He had a job to do. "Be plenty of chances for you to beat someone senseless here today," he turned to his adoptive sister and nodded. "That's the name of the game. Get bloody until you get better. Or... something, I don't know. I've never trained anyone before."

 

[Keira Priest]

Crossing her arms, Keira considered first Marvik then her brother. Admittedly, she'd been curious as to how their first meeting would play out for quite some time, and supposed now was as good a time as any to determine if her hypotheses were true or not. "He was a good fight." Shrugging a shoulder, she glanced to the Alor of Dathu. "A warrior like the rest of us. I might not have agreed with his policy, but he defended the title well. I challenged for a reason, but I can still respect him." Not that she'd ever admitted as much to the man's face, but it had been evident in the way they spoke with each other, despite the seeming insubordinance in their interactions.

When it came to her brother's lack of experience in training others she couldn't offer much in the way of assistance, given that her own attempts were limited to her own students - when she'd had them - and the men and women of the clone army, in fits and bursts. Mandalorians were a different breed altogether, and one for which she couldn't offer much insight. So, his approximation seemed about right to her. "Maybe if we make enough noise they'll show up. Even old warriors like us need practice every once in a while, 'lek?" Rolling her neck, a series of pops sounded in quick succession, followed by a cracking of her shoulders, and finally her knuckles as she loosened up. Age wasn't kind to those of their breed, but they all made do, one way or another.

With both hands she slid on her helmet, sealing it to her armor. Viewing the world through a T-visor was in many ways more natural than the alternative, especially when one relied on HUD technology to make it through a war zone. "What do you say, vod'ika? I won't try and kill you if you return the favor." Looking to Marvik, she smiled beneath her helmet. "Let's show him how Verds really fight."

[member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Jahan Lionheart]

Little shine reflected off black clad armor plates. The suit covered his entire being and the visor was in the shape of a lion. He was not fully mandalorian yet, but worked closely with them. This was Jahan, a bounty hunter and glory seeker. Rumor was after the blockade of Umbara his thoughts about joining the mandalorian way of life were sealed he just need to simply pick a clan and learn. Walking through the training area the large Cathar did his best to hold in a laugh and smiled wide underneath his helmet. Mandalorians he passed slapped the sides of their helmets and cursed. In his head he knew and could imagine their HUDs shutting off briefly with his presence. " Heheheh. " he looked around till he noticed three warriors conversing. Joining them he kept some distance before fully stepping into their circle.


" Old?" A deep regal voice interjected in question. " Today is indeed a great day. Diti vas ri, ra khoro." A taste of Catharese for before Jahan continued. The simple phrase he said rolled off his tongue like honey. " Birov tateyus. I am Jahan the Lion. It would be my honor to learn from seasoned warriors such as yourselves." The armored Cathar bowed showing respect. It was a custom from his own culture and one he used often.

[member="Keira Verd"]
[member="Alkor Centaris"]
[member="Marvik Dathu"]
[member="Nicair Claden"]

 

[Nicair Claden]

Nicair didn't enjoy being late to things, it wasn't becoming of a warrior. Whether he truly considered himself that was something he had been avoiding asking in the mirror for quite some time. To help he got rid of every mirror he could find. As a result his beard had gone unkempt and his hair and been allowed to grow out. This was the way he operated, a constant flow of different appearances based on his level of attentiveness and general willingness to care.

He wasn't in any particular hurry along the path, it bore the brunt of many armored feet traveling along it.

The Verds are here.

He'd met their Alor on more than one occasional, the one immediately prior she may or may not have tried to kill him. His arrival was opportune, and just in time to see what appeared to be the beginnings of a match.

He gave a small wave and increased his pace.

[member="Keira Verd"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"] | [member="Marvik Dathu"]

 

[Strider Garon]

Those in the Alkore's training field would be able to hear the roar of the Avril's twin engines as she cut power and swooped in like a bird of prey upon the Kelita River. Strider was at the yoke commanding his antique ambitious ship into the fast moving powerful mandalorian river. Landing was the easy part, making sure one was able to walk away alive from a landing was the real trick, lucky for his daughter and his strill...... and the droid...... Strider was a excellent pilot. Even in his venerable years, he was able to splash down and maneuver the ship as she was an extension of his own body. A few short bursts from the sublight drives and usage of her thrusters go the ship's Nose and belly ashore. Enough that the river could not take her whole.

Strider powered the old girl down and lowered the port-side access ladder. He unbuckled himself from his chair and walked towards the access port that was just behind the bridge. He could hear his daughter below in one of the private rooms. She must of been kitting up or something along those lines that fell under 'None of his business'. " Tal'ika! I will see you out there!" He yelled down the stairwell, his deep resonating voice echoed through out the ship and would of been hard to miss. Strider had many bastard children on mandalore and through out the galaxy. Many known and countless unknown. But now that he had taken up retirement it seems he finally can focus on clan matters more than galactic conquest. With that came to learning how to be a father to those that were willing to call him such. He may be and old dog but he was willing to learn new tricks.

The old man opened the access port, the wind picked up off the Kalita and gently brushed through his salt and peppered black mane. He was not wearing his beskar'gam, just simple black t shirt and trousers along with combat boots. His grizzled and battle scarred features were easily scene and those that knew him or knew of him would recognize the legendary warrior by sight alone. He looked up the ladder and could see Dehi'r looking down at him. "Oya!" Strider spouted up to the strill and with out hesitation the beastly creature jumped and glided off the ship. Then she dissipated into the long grass and out of sight. She gets to go hunting while Strider gets to train his daughter.

Strider walked up to the edge of the training field, taking it all in and pleased with how [member="Alkor Centaris"] handled the task at hand. Simple, primitive yet very effective to sharpen the mandos to a fine edge. He recognize a few that were there and gave a nod of respect to each of them while he dropped his duffel bag to the ground. The bag contained training equipment, first aid kit, food and drink for him and Talimet. Strider would unbuckle his nerf leather gunbelt and holster that housed his K-11 blaster pistol. That was then placed ontop of the bag while he pulled out white hand wraps for himself. He would methodically begin to wrap his hands while he waited for his daughter to get off the ship and make an appearance for the one on one training session with her father.

Strider had sent a private message to his brother [member="Garrus Garon"] the cordinates to the new training area. He new the bald headed bastard loved the martial arts and showing the young pups just how good he is.

[member="Talimet Garon"]

 

[Riamah]

She sat on her bunk in silence. The woman had grown up on Mandalore, raised by the clan and lived a quiet life. Family oriented and honorable in her own way. A chick that was tough as nails as stubborn as a mule. There had been one large aspect of her life missing until just a few days ago. Her father. Over the years he may have come, but then he was gone. Now he took a sudden interest in her and it was rather confusing.

An adult by her own right, she was no longer entirely a child that would be the pawn of a parent. Something maybe Strider needed to learn. Today could be the chance to build or destroy what little relationship they had.

So lost in thoughts full of this confusion, Talimet barely heard his call out to her. Rolling her eyes slightly, she stood up and finished getting into her gear. Always one to follow tradition, she brought her armor with her and made sure everything but her helmet was in place before moving to join her father.

Not spiteful in nature, she did have some resentment at being left behind so many times. That might be clear in her body language, but she actually wanted to give this a chance. Walking out of the ship, she took up a spot next to him and tilted her head in greeting before gazing out across the field in front of them.

[member="Strider Garon"] [member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Jahan the Lion"] [member="Keira Verd"] [member="Marvik Dathu"] [member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Strider Garon]

Strider watched as his daughter approach the training field. He knew the girl held much resentment for his lack in fatherly duties. A guilt that he himself bared and not just for the sake of her. Talimet had a army of siblings that went with out his presence. Some say that Strider was one of the greatest mandalorians, but truth was he was only legendary for is fighting prowess and infamous for being a man whore, when mandalorians should be known for clan and family. She was clad in her beskar'gam, the sight a lone made the old man's knuckles ping in arthritis and phantom pains as he wrapped them. Such were the curses of old age, body remembers all that you had put it through in youth and make you pay for it in what folks would say were the golden years. "Golden Years my shebs!" He snarled to himself as he tighten the wraps and gave each hand a few test punches.

"Get warmed up and stretched out first, Tal'ika!" He commanded with a stern tone of voice as he stretched his arm across his chest. "Then we see what you have learned."

After a few minutes of rigorous stretches Strider would walk out into the field and find a empty spot in the sand box with his daughter in tow. He would square off to the armored female placing himself into a fighting stance with his dominate right leg back and his left forward, blading his body towards her and placing his hand up and a short distance from his face. He would short step and pivot about to get a good feel for the dirt below his feet to maintain proper footing.

"Come!" He would wave Tal on "Give your old man a beat down!" A wolfish smile escaped his olive leathery stone cold facial features.

[member="Talimet Garon"]

 

[Nicair Claden]

Nicair had never met the man personally, but he had heard stories of a warrior named Strider. Old stories, legends almost. He looked about what the younger Sociph expected. Worn down, scarred, dented metal. There was strength and skill yet remaining. He was fairly certain the leather faced Mandalorian would die with both. His remaining above ground was impressive enough.

The younger man moved into a position he could observe the veteran and who Nicair assumed to be his daughter.

[member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Talimet Garon"]

 

[Riamah]

Even if he hadn't been a father to her, she knew he was knowledgeable in ways she couldn't even imagine. So taking his advice into consideration, she started doing some stretches. Lightly punching the air and stretching her arms, followed by squatting down and putting one leg out and then the other. Eventually Talimet felt stretched and loosened up enough.

"About the only things I've learned is how to chuck hay around and round up animals. Still strong enough to give a good struggle though."

Her dad lead her to a sandy patch and got into a fighting stance. Following the example set by Strider, her own stance was similar. Left foot forward and straight, right foot back and angled slightly. Her right arm was held close to her body and left was up to block any moves made for her upper body or face.

"I hardly think this is fair. Even without the armor, you can still floor me in two moves at most. Let's get this going."

[member="Nicair Claden"] [member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Karsan Munin]

Another sibling. Another abandoned child.


Karsan screwed the cap off of his caf, sitting on the beach on a bench, far off from his father- but within earshot. And a sister. Another one. Karsan stared at his father, a familiar feeling of hatred and abandonment creeping up over him. It wasn't really his fault- after all, he never knew about Karsan until much later.

But that didn't mean that Karsan ever really forgave him for the life he could've had. A family, a father. No secret wars. No throat slitting in the night. Sure, he was a capable warrior now- he was, after all, the premiere black ops team for the Sith, once upon a time. He was as deadly as they came. But he still felt that same, old, familiar sting of hate towards that old man.

So, he sipped his crappy caf, from his crappy container, on a crappy beach on a mostly crappy planet, and thought about his crappy life. Maybe that was what his father gave him. Perspective on how much his life really did suck, his fault, or otherwise.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Udesii, Keira," Alkor smirked. "It's a training session, no one should be trying to kill anyone." He looked across the group and paused for a moment before adding, "though, since it hasn't been said, I'll say it: no one kill anyone, 'lek?"

The aging Corellian shifted in his beskar'gam, and tugged his buy'ce overhead, his voice changing to the more neutral, cold tone imbued by the vocabulator. "Let's see what you've got."

He wasted no time pulling the beskad from his hip, bringing it into a low, one handed guard in front of him. It was a traditional Mandalorian weapon, but to become skilled with it took years of practice and to call yourself a Master of the Art-

Well, Alkor had to start putting in the time at some point.

Swords had always been his forte. Long blades and short ones, anything remotely close to the lightsaber that he originally learned with. Over time, the finesse slipped away into efficiency and the cunning changed into cold, calculated skill. He wasn't the small, frail boy that he had been when Isley adopted him into Verd.

No, many things had changed since then.

He slipped comfortably into a low stance, shoulders slightly sagged as he watched [member="Keira Verd"] through his Heads Up Display.