Vorzyd Was The Land of Fire (Isley Verd)

[Ginnie Dib]

The medical shuttles had left hours before with Field Marshal [member="Strider Garon"] and the growing brood of Mantis kin and kinder. Most Mando'ade who had been injured or trapped in the ensuing fires of the Vorzyd Disaster had been ferried off but for the clean up crews and bits of stubborn resistance of the locals.

Ginnie Ordo hadn't left. She hadn't gotten into her ship and sailed off for Manda'yaim or Ziost in her ship the Tome'tayl Cyare'se. It had been a gift from her father and Ginnie nearly curled up in the pilot seat to drift off, but for the continued fires sparking up. Exhausted and spent, the teenaged Mandalorian sat on the edge of a fountain across from a cafe the crews cleaning 'house' had turned into a canteen. She sipped Elba Water from a bottle and found her arms too heavy to pick up the sandwich some kindly soul had made her.

Somewhere on Vorzyd, if he was a moron and had stuck around, was [member="Isley Verd"]. Inwardly numb to the reintroduction of her brother, the child felt another peg falling off her innocence, lost into the waters of the hereafter. Her head nodded to the side, her elbows propped on her knees. Unclipping her Buy'ce, Ginnie set it beside her and felt the descent of a comfortable deafness she only allowed herself when in safe hands.

Deafness was a misnomer, the girl'd never been stone quiet deaf. Ginnie's eyes had been opened to the truth of her condition: Ginnie Ordo had never left the munitions locker which cost her mother her life and Ginnie her ears. How else could she work the forge and burst with inhuman fire? Ginnie was marred and marked by the blaze, a being in mid-explosion and she would be the rest of her life.

In the silence all Ginnie could hear was the continued conflagration humming into the sides of her head where her ears used to be. Hair pulled back in thin, well-kept dreadlocks, Ginnie dipped her head onto the shoulder pauldron of her Beskar'gam and huffed a sigh. Night had long since fallen and the square would have gotten bitterly cold had it not been for Ginnie's last pyromantic act of the ever long day: Lighting a bonfire.

The others had fed it and now Ginnie stared at the blaze hoping to see some mean spirit or master plan in the appearance of her once beloved brother.

 

[Darth Metus]

Although Isley had managed to return to his people, there was a chasm of differences between the present and what once was.

For one thing, when conquests were concluded, Isley was usually amongst the first to return home to Mandalore. This was not due to his youth or his lack or rank, but rather a desire to move onto the next mission. When he was young, Isley only sought to bring glory and honor to his clan and people; and as such he eagerly dived from one mission to the next. However, as time moved forward, the Mandalorian found himself settling down a tad. While a passion for his people still burned bright within his heart, he was not above doing those tasks which he formerly regarded as "unglorious". If the young, teenage Isley could see himself now, he'd gag...for right now, he was knee-deep in "clean up duty".

Now, while this did not call for a broom or mop as the name alluded, the task did seem a little dull. For the most part, Isley spent the better part of the day assisting the wounded to medivacs, searching for missing comrades, and putting into place and antsy natives. For hours on end, the Mandalorian set about doing what was required; and did so gladly. At this point, he was simply happy to be where he "belonged." When the duties assigned to him were finally completed, the hour was late and Isley found himself exhausted. With nothing to do save tend to his stomach, the Mandalorian made his way to one of the more bustling parts of "town."

Here, a streetside cafe had begun selling its wares to its hungry Conquerors, and Isley was more than eager to partake.

With his stomach dictating his actions, the durasteel-clad warrior made his way past the roaring Bonfire until he stood within the establishment. Cozy was the word that came to mind when describing the place; but he did not keep his attention on the aesthetic for long. Ordering a simple sandwich alongside a carbonated beverage, Isley then walked outside in order to sit, eat, and relax. However, before he could so much as take a bit of his sandwich, he was greeted by the sight of neat dreadlocks nestled upon a paudron of beskar. It was [member="Ginnie Ordo"]...

Enter the nerves.

Spontaneously, a horde of nerves assaulted his stomach. Prespiration moistened his palms and a slight shudder traversed the whole of his being. What in the Force could he possibly say? How could he possibly begin to explain all that happened? A simple: "Sorry sis, I went bat-poodoo crazy because I played with the Dark Side too much. Now gimme a hug!" would not cut it. Nor would anything by his estimation. Drawing a deep breath, Isley steeled himself for the absolute worst...which by his recollection already happened. She was an Ordo now, which was not a terrible thing. She had a family, a loving family...but did that mean that she no longer regarded him as her brother? With a sigh, the Mandalorian stepped forward and settled himself in the seat adjacent to his sibling.

"Ginnie, I..." he began, attempting in vain to articulate the chaotic thoughts which rampaged about his head. "I am so sorry..."

 

[Ginnie Dib]

A Mandalorian dressed in durasteel. That was either one heck of a down-on-his-luck Mandalorian or he was some sort of spy. Ginnie sniffed and rubbed her nose with the back of her hand, glancing over at this metallic tin man coming to sit beside her. She glared up at him, deaf as a post without her buy'ce upon which she currently housed her sandwich.

He was sitting awful close for comfort. Almost familiar.

Ginnie sipped her Elba Water and prepared to do what Daddy Ordo had taught her. Yell "Stranger Danger" then punch the guy right through his metallic skin. Maybe with a bit of her sandwich she'd know what to do with the fog in her brain. She was halfway through chewing and swallowing when the reality of the situation struck her upside the head.

"Isley?" Ginnie hadn't even recognized her brother. Craning her head to the side, the deaf teenager's mouth hung open. "Sorry. My ghost of a former brother is sorry. What for? It's natural for the Verds to throw their daughters and sisters away. To take them in and promise them a real family life then go kark Shriek-Hawk crazy, marry a shape shifter, make clone-meat kids vacuum packed with unnatural memories and force powers and weird ages then get your legs tangled up with an insane Echani woman then disappear. That's Clan Verd Normal, Verd'ika. S'why I'm not your vod anymore. Did you hear when you were hiding in the city? I got adopted. I'm an Ordo and even the Clan whose Aliit'Buir killed the Mand'alor is a better Clan than the Verds."

 

[Darth Metus]

What this...indignation?

As the words formed and fell from the lips of the young woman, Isley felt heat manifest. It burned in the pit of his stomach and ascended the whole of his body, settling upon his face and inspiring his muscles to tense. Did he, of all people, have a right to feel angst in response to her words? Did he, arguably one of the worst souls in the Galaxy, have room to allow his pride to rear its head? Absolutely not...yet there he sat, seething momentarily. 'Twas not at [member="Ginnie Ordo"] that Isley was frustrated with, however...it was himself. Every word that she spat was absolutely true, and she didn't even know the full details of the story. "You're scum." he thought, taking a moment to silently remind himself.

Releasing a pent-up breath, Isley let go of his frustration. Then came his attempt to explain.

"You're right." he began, lowering his head. "If I were in your shoes, I wouldn't want to share a name, let alone blood, with me either." Pausing, he took a moment to organize the chaos that was his thoughts. There was so much that he wanted to say; for multitudes had happened...but where could he even start? "I'm sorry for being so weak." Yes. That was a good start. After all, his own weakness was the cause of everything. "If I hadn't tampered with the Dark Side...If I hadn't let it kark up my mind until I didn't even know who I was...None of this would have happened. I was arrogant. I let the fact that I had power blind me from the question of whether or not I should use it. I abused it heavily...and suffered the consequences."

"In my vanity, I sought to master creation itself. I made clones, children to call my own, because I could not do so. I sought to rule. I sought to control. I became a puppet for the Dark Side...and literal billions have died because of me. I lost the one I love, that shapeshifter you speak oh so highly of. I bedded an Echani, of all things...and when it was all said and done, I lost everything. Everything I had. Everything I loved, including you." T'was then that Isley took a moment to rest his face in his palms, for the heat filling his eyes was beginning to blur his vision. "If I could go back...If I could do it all over again, I would have never accepted Gregor's offer. I would have never learned of nor tasted the Dark Side."

"But this is the present that I have made. This is the grave that I've dug myself into."

Lowering his hands, the Mandalorian sighed. He couldn't bring himself to look his sibling in the eye, not now. "I can't even...I won't even...fix my mouth to ask for forgiveness. That is something that I do not deserve. I only ask that you...allow me to stay in your life. You may not regard me as your vod any longer...but please, I don't want this to be goodbye."

 

[Ginnie Dib]

"You were a total and complete dingus." Ginnie seethed, too tired to follow that anger with a proper firey response. "I can help cover that grave. Make some iron bars to fit over the top. If you'd wanted kids, you could have adopted. You could have made clone babies, not clone adults with powers or clone ten year olds with false memories and horrible grammar. She's skulking around Manda'yaim, by the way. Your toy-daughter. A friend of mine called me up and I told her what I'll tell you. I want nothing to do with Adela Verd. She's a false image, a shadow with memories you probably stole from me. You didn't want children, Isley. You didn't want to raise them from infancy and be a Buir. You wanted more pawns for power, pawns that would be biochemically emphatic at obeying you. Fighting for you. You tried to build belonging when you already had it. I was a twelve year old girl and you threw me aside for test tubes you self-designed to be less flawed than your deaf vod'ika who hid under her bed when she was scared. And now I'm dealing with your mess ups. It's not fair. You had a sister. I depended on you. I needed you to be my big brother, the closest person I had to a Buir. You didn't let me down, you threw me away, just like Dad. And I'm glad on his deathbed I pulled the plug. I'm glad I got to see his last gasping breath 'cause I wasn't about to let him have the dignity of thinking we'd be sad when he was gone. No one else was there to do it, you let your baby sister deal with our last dying parent, too."

After the words spilled out, Ginnie choked. She never should have said it. Her face boiled, she watched Isley put his head in his hands and grimaced out of the side of her mouth. "You left me. You betrayed me, but Darth Metus didn't. He's in the fires of my Forge, he was in the holocron I took to teach me the ways of Sith Alchemy. He didn't want to teach me, but after my Daddy got crippled, I had to do something to save Clan Ordo. When you dropped the ball and went drifting through the Galaxy in crappy armour, the Dark Lord poisoned my father, made him kill the Mand'alor and while my Daddy Ordo laid near dead, I felt the inky black of the Dark Lord in his heart. Something took it away. . . but not before it brushed against me. I've been battling the Darkness you left behind, vod'ika. It might be drifting from you, but it clung to me.

I'm so angry all the time. Mama [member="Rianna be Ar'klim"] does her best and if it wasn't for Mama and Daddy I'd have gone pyro-Sith long ago. But I'm no healer like my Mother. I wish I was. I wish these hands could put someone back together, but they can't. I don't know how. Daddy's . . . I wasn't fast enough to fix him, Isley." Her chin wobbled, the girl's eyes grew hot and wet. She hiccupped and sniffled loudly. "I didn't learn fast enough to save my Daddy, Isley. I want my Mama to be proud of me and I'm scared. I'm scared I'm always gonna be the girl who got your problems put on her shoulders and I'm so little. I'm too little!" Tears began to streak down her face and the child broke. She started to sob. "I missed you so much, Isley. I kept trying to find you and I couldn't find you so you must have been dead. I kept telling myself you must be dead 'cause you'd never leave me and then Darth Metus started talking to me through the holocron and in the fires and I couldn't let that bit of you go! My last piece of my big brother. And I love my new family, I love my parents and I love my sisters and my brothers and they treat me like I'm some tiny gift in their hands and I don't want them to see the real me is just this scared ad'ika hiding under her bed in armour 'cause the Dark Lord keeps knocking at my door saying 'let me in'. I don't wanna! I don't wanna let him in. I want my brother back."

Ginnie pushed her forehead against his durasteel shoulder, fingers clinging to the ribcage plates. "But I'm an Ordo. I wanna be an Ordo. I love being an Ordo. I'm an Ordo, Isley."

 

[Darth Metus]

His father was dead.

His daughter was alive.

And Ginnie...was far from finished.

With each and every word she spoke, the Mandalorian's mind was set spinning. Anger. Pain. Sorrow. Each word was coated with a myriad of emotion that struck at Isley's very core...and laden his shoulders with heaps of guilt. For one so young, Ginnie had endured so much. She had suffered through loss after loss, but at least now there was some small fragment of happiness in her life. She had a family, Clan Ordo, and they loved her just as much as she loved them. Yet, at the end of the day, fear resided in her heart. She and her sibling both feared the very same Darkness.

For several seconds, Isley was shocked...yet listened. He did his best to veil the tears behind his hands, but eventually gave up doing so. Now, more so than ever before, Isley wished he could have evaporated on the spot...until she mentioned the name Metus. Fury tore through the Mandalorian and his fist slammed upon the table. His teeth clenched, his heart thundered, and Isley began to seethe. "If you still have that Holocron, cast it into the fire and let it burn into ash. Do not listen to anything that Demon has to say." Of course, saying as much would make little sense without context. So, Isley tamed the inferno of angst and began to explain.

"The Dark Lord...who poisoned your father...was the very same who named me Darth Metus. 'Twas his decree that set all into motion, and I was but a puppet. The Darkness strung me along as if I were a mere plaything, and I watched as 'Darth Metus' burnt everything I loved to the ground." he paused, briefly looking away so that he might calm himself down a touch more. Before he could so much as part his lips to speak again, he felt Ginnie's brow touch his shoulder and her fingers grasp his side. Isley gaped for a moment before ensnaring his younger sibling in a tight embrace. His lips touched her brow briefly before he spoke, fighting through the lump in his throat.

"I won't let the Darkness do to you what it did to me. I won't let it turn you into a plaything. I karked up royally and broke every promise I ever made...but no more. I'm not going anywhere Ginnie, I swear this on my life. I'm going to make sure you don't Fall. You won't turn into a monster like me, I won't allow it."

 

[Ginnie Dib]

"Hey! Darth Metus looked out for me! He kept telling me the holocron was for someone else, but he taught me anyway when I pleaded. Darth Metus held the fire demons back till my Daddy could rescue me when I went trying to alchemize Beskar and near blew myself up. Never doing that again, Beskar ain't alchemizable. It's too sturdy, it knows what it is too much." Ginnie raised her head, half thinking of pushing [member="Isley Verd"] away and following with the shadow of Darth Metus. . . but Isley was right. Metus was a shadow of the Dark, a pawn of the same force that harmed her father and caused the messes which struck her life into a tailspinning spiral of tragedy and sorrow.

Metus was a reflection in an inky pool, the care that spirit felt was but a fragment of the love her brother bore in his tempestuous, screwed up ribcage. She threw her arms around him and sobbed. "You're still a dingus!"

Sniffling and holding onto her brother's neck, Ginnie pushed her cheek into his shoulder. "I don't have the holocron anymore. Ahani has it. There was this Ewok Shaman and he asked me nicely and after a bit I gave it to him. Metus told me it was for Ahani, and that made my skin crawl so it's with her now. But . . . but I still made a Forge. It's my secret place, I found it on Ziost. . . it was secret but then I remembered Daddy has a Blood Trail on me, and there's GPS in my Beskar'gam. But not many people know it exists so there."

 

[Darth Metus]

There was a mountain of things that the Mandalorian could have said about his "darker self"...but for the time being, he decided to hold his peace. When the time came, Ginnie would come to know the same truth that Isley had shared with only one other: Gilamar Skirata. However, for the time being, all that mattered was holding his sister close. There was a large part of Isley that entertained the notion of never letting go...but she'd have to eat her sandwich eventually. "Yes, I'm a Dingus. The largest Dingus in the Galaxy. I should get a shirt made saying just that." he said.

Holding his sibling closer, Isley then found his mind being blown. Ginnie made a forge? "Ginnie...Please tell me that you did not build on the ruins of any temples...Please tell me that this is a normal Forge." he pleaded, hoping for the best. After all, the Forge that Isley once owned was to blame for several creations floating about the Galaxy; and for untold sums of damage upon his mental health. Dark Forges were not things to be taken lightly...nor used by a teenager!

 

[Ginnie Dib]

"I'll ask my Mama to help pick one out. She's good with colours. You should see my school clothes I'm the prettiest girl in the Academy. Mama said so, and so did my sisters Arla and Anija and Evi. They take me shopping sometimes and then we go to the firing range and Anija's Riduur's name is Arribi and he's gonna take me hunting!" It was a long time since the scarrified girl felt pretty. What a feat for [member="Rianna be Ar'klim"] to accomplish, helping her ad'ika feel like the girl she was. What a testament to Ginnie's new parents. "You can get a different coloured dingus shirt for each day of the week. Green Dingus Taugdays. And a pink dingus shirt with buttons down the front for special occasions."

Cuddled up in her brother's arms, Ginnie yawned and reached for her sandwich. Taking big huge bites, she munched and swallowed with tired gulps. "Naw, it's not built on an ancient temple." Ginnie swallowed another bite and the little girl pursed her lips. "Nnooooo, I totally didn't build it on Ziost or in a dark and dingy forest full of old Sith battle grounds. . . ummm. . . will you believe me if I start over and say it's a totally normal Beskar forge and not the place I almost blew myself up trying to alchemize things and then not having close enough ties to the Dark Side so they went kaBoom and my Daddy had to save me, and before Daddy could pull me out Darth Metus held the demon things back so I didn't get swallowed whole by dark forces of the Sith?"

She blinked up at him, her tearstained eyes still red and her eyelids still puffy. Ginnie took a slow bite of her sandwich. "You can't have my sandwich. How did you get here anyway? I heard some posse of people stole all your stuff off Castle Ne'tra then burned it to the ground."

 

[Darth Metus]

Isley couldn't help but chuckle, for a snark-filled suggestion was quickly turning into a fashion statement. "Hopefully there's a yellow or gold shirt in there somewhere. That's my color." he began, giving her nose a playful tap with his finger. "And of course you're the prettiest girl in the Academy. You are my baby sister after all. Good looks run in the family." With that said, the Mandalorian hearkened to what Ginnie said about her Forge. While he was not...particularly thrilled that it was indeed a Dark Forge, he was surprised to see that she was saved by Metus of all people. Dark. Evil. Sadistic...Yet Caring as well?

"I can't believe that Metus did something...good. It almost seems out of character for that monster. Also, if you don't mind my asking...Might I see your forge? I could show you how to make things that are not completely reeking with Darkness. Like the Knives that the Fringe Confederation made as a gift for the Clans." he said, before wrinkling up his nose. Ginnie's bite revealed a scent that he abhorred...the scent of pickles. "I've never understood how you can stand pickles, Gin'ika. They are disgusting. I have my own sandwich. Meat, cheese, more meat, and more cheese. A real sandwich."

 

[Ginnie Dib]

"You need to eat your vegetables, Is'ika. My Mama would be grabbing you by the ear and pulling you to our veggie garden for eating nothing but meat and cheese. I love pickles! They're great and tangy and crunchy. My Dad! My Dad eats pickled beetroots, and they stain our fingers, but it's fine 'cause it washes off after a day or so. And we'd sit on the couch all cuddled up on cold nights and if I finished my chores and did my homework we'd watch holovids and he'd tell me stories. He's so cool, he loves pickles just like me. And! And he was a Mastercraftsman for Beskar and he taught me how to be a Beskar Goran and I'm his Goran'ika. I've forged tons of Beskar. Daddy got me to start learning right after he adopted me, and I was all scared and I wouldn't take off my armour, and I'd hide under the bed and Mama would try and get me to help with chores and I'd go nuts trying to do them right away in case she got mad at me, but then I figured out she loved me tons and Daddy had Nexu on the ranch and I got to take care of them and teach them Death From Above and then I used my Mercenary money to buy a Tuk'ata puppy and I'm teaching him High Sith, but I didn't bring him with me to Vorzyd 'cause he likes pastures and he's cuddly and his name is Wembley and he can chew a person's neck through in like, five seconds but he's really nice and he cuddles with my Mama's pet and my Dad? My Daddy taught me how to fly 'cause he's the best pilot ever and he gave me a ship for my thirteenth birthday 'cause he owns a company that makes them and that's why you should eat your vegetables."

Ginnie nodded sagely, pursing her lips before taking another gigantic bite of her sandwich. "I dunno, I still think you're a horrible dingus for leaving me and I haven't forgiven you yet, but I could use a hand in the Forge. . . maybe I will let you. I made a bedroom up in the top of the Cathedral and you could sleep there if you don't have nowhere else to go. But you can't tell anybody where my Forge is. It's a secret. . . of course Metus helped me. He's part of you. Might be a fethed up kark-fest part of you, but he's still part of you. Why do you doubt yourself so much? If you'd just trusted your instincts in the first place none of this would have happened. Honestly, what am I gonna do with you Is'ika?"

Huffling out a sigh, Ginnie shook her head and polished off her sandwich. Her eyes felt heavy, her body encased in the desperately heavy Beskar'gam hung off her brother's embrace like lead weights. "I wish I looked more like my Mama. She's got the most beautiful skin in the universe. Her hair doesn't go all puffy like mine. Maybe a yellow one on Wookieday. . . I played with a lot of fire today. I hope I impressed the Field Marshals, Field Marshal Mantis hates my guts. . . and I built him a new leg and everything." She said, rubbing her eyes.

 

[Darth Metus]

As the teenager prattled on in her "tired" voice, the Mandalorian couldn't help but chuckle aloud. It had been far too long since he had been subjected to one of Ginnie's ramblings; and to be perfectly honest he had missed this immensely. "I respectfully disagree." came his eventual response. "While your parents, pasture, and Tu'kata are all lovely, this here sandwich has all that a growing Mandalorian needs. Meat and cheese. Meat contains protein. Protein builds muscle. Cheese contains calcium. Calcium builds strong bones. You need strong muscles and bones to fight. Therefore, my sandwich wins." To this, he added a toothy grin.

"That said...I'll definitely have to take you up on that offer. Maybe, if I wear enough 'Dingus' shirts, you'll help me with some proper Beskar'gam? Durasteel just doesn't cut it. At all." he began. "And don't worry, your secret is safe with me." Of course, Isley's smile wavered when Ginnie identified Metus as a part of him. If he had his way...Metus would fade into the realm of memory and never rear his head again. Yet, there was indeed truth to what the young Mandalorian said. Isley and Metus were opposing sides of the same coin; much to his chagrin. Rather than comment on this, however, Isley set the whole of his attention to what Ginnie said last. It was something that caused the Mandalorian's eyes to raise in surprise.

"Ginnie, you're beautiful just the way you are. I'm sure that your mother has her own wonderful traits, but you do as well. For one, when your hair is done properly, it looks amazing. Two, black don't crack. Remember that...And I'm sure the Field Marshals noticed you. It'd be hard not to, what with all the pyromancy you were doing. Excellent job, by the way. You've gotten truly strong."

[member="Ginnie Ordo"]

 

[Ginnie Dib]

"Calcium and protein might be great, but without fibre and vitamins and nutrients to access those things, they're gonna git stuck in your tummy and you'll get too fat for Beskar'gam. And I don't make girdles for lazy tubsy Mando'ade who don't eat their vegetables." Ginnie poked her finger between the plates of [member="Isley Verd"]'s armour and wiggled her finger around.

"Let's be honest. To make up for what you pulled?" Ginnie sneered, glaring up at her brother's face. "It's gonna take a lot of dingus shirts before you earn another suit of Beskar'gam. That stuff's expensive. . . although I do have a bunch of pieces of your old Beskar'gam I picked up off Tatooine. [member="Ket Van-Derveld"] made me get it, he kidnapped me and then took me for a speeder bike ride then made me forge some of your old 'gam into shin guards for him. But in exchange he let me keep the left-overs and he taught me how to use the Force to hear things without my buy'ce. You'd better keep my secret. You're on vod probation."

The child's eyes were crashing closed. Vorzyd had been weeks of slogging, weeks of putting her nose to the grindstone and pushing through. Yet it felt surreal to be dozing off in her brother's arms. Was he even her brother anymore? Hadn't she disowned her old vode? Isley was being the big brother Ginnie had wanted, his words made her chin wobble all over again and the petite girl pushed away from him and stood up. Nearly falling over from the weight of her Beskar'gam, Ginnie stumbled and caught her balance before calling her Buy'ce to her hands. "It's hard to do my hair right! It gets all stuck and knotted when I'm wearing my armour. . . hehehe Is'ika, black don't crack? Seriously? You haven't seen me in like forever and that's your response? Girls with scars aren't pretty, but I can pretend they're not there. I care more about the Field Marshals noticing me than I care about my burned up ears anyhow! I wanna make Rally Master before I'm fifteen! I wanna be the youngest Rally Master ever! And then be the youngest Field Marshal! And then be the youngest Mand'alor."

She offered Isley her hand. "Come on, I'll take you to see my ship. Daddy helped me name it and everything."

 

[Darth Metus]

As the Mandalorian parted his lips to make some sort of retort, his sibling's finger wriggled against his side. This caused Isley to practically shriek, for she had unwittingly uncovered something terrifying: he was ticklish. "None of that. No, no. Uh uh." he said, raising his hands. Thinking swiftly, as a subject change was desperately needed, Isley took to talking about food and fitness. "And that fibers bit may be true for the average man, but I just so happen to be very physically active. When you go on as many missions as I, you can essentially eat whatever you want and get away with it."

Then came the mention of Ket Van-Derveld...The Mandalorian's eye literally twitched. That man had destroyed his beskar'gam, a symbol of his pride, and had the remains made into shin guards? By his own sister!? And he kidnapped her?!! Oh. If he ever saw that fether again, the unresolved brawl would resume again. No doubt about it. "How 'nice' of him." he spat. "I am glad that you have those pieces. It's a better start than nothing at all, right?" Reaching out, the Mandalorian forced himself to set aside his frustration so that he might pat his sibling on the head. With a comforting smile, he said:

"I'm well aware of how difficult it is to style your hair. Remember, up until very recently I had dreadlocks of my own. You see, the trick is to let your locks hang out from underneath your helmet. This way, your head won't get nearly as hot and your hair won't become nearly as messy. Furthermore, you're beautiful and as deadly as a Rancor." Rising, Isley retrieved his helmet and slid it back down upon his head. There would be time for devouring his sandwich and beverage later, for he had a ship to see. Grabbing up his dinner, Isley gave a nod.

"Lead on, Gin'ika."

[member="Ginnie Ordo"]

 

[Ginnie Dib]

Isley's worst fear: The Tickle Monster. Not only did Ginnie remember her older vod's notorious ticklishness, but finding chinks in his ridiculously cheap armour was vastly becoming a game of attrition. Ginnie was pretty certain it wouldn't take more than a couple of seconds and a swift kick and she could unravel the entire suit. "I call foul. There ain't no way your bad habits won't come up to bite you. But what would I know? I'm just your amazingly talented, left-behind former sister. I'm just the daughter of Ordo Force Body be Ar'klim and Rianna Health and Healing be Ar'klim." She said, her voice's normal deaf-tone in the beginning stages of taking on new life and intricacies. In a few years would the girl be able to talk without her silent condition becoming so noticeable to all?

"Only a rancor? I was going for space dragon." Ginnie pouted then burst into tired giggles, putting her Buy'ce back on and taking her brother's hand. Plodding toward the Tome'tayl Cyare'se's dock took more and more of the girl's waning strength and when she did make it to the Tome's docking ramp, she flicked the auto-lower on the ramp and climbed aboard panting. The Okyaab-Class Freighter was configured for the Goran'ika. The cargo bay had a tool shop and armour repair segments, there was a droid that trundled along and beep bop booped for her. Someone had rigged the place with mirrors and view screens so the girl could see around corners, toward doors and the klaxon panels held scripted Mando'a in lieu of strict sound. Through the first level and the engineering section, past the detention cells (one of which held an entire supply of extra thick sparkly blankets and the makings of the galaxy's coolest tent fort), Ginnie led her brother upstairs and toward a series of common areas and rooms. "You can sleep in the Guest Room if you want. This one's for Anija and Arrbi when they travel with me, bu-aaugh!"

In a blur a lupine beast roared and pounced on Gin'ika, licking her face with whinnies of sheer joy. Wembley the Tuk'ata heard the child coming and as Ginnie burst into giggles on the ground, her pet nuzzled his great head under her hand and spun in circles, sniffling at [member="Isley Verd"] with an uncanny discernment. Wembley glanced upward and barked. He growled, then reached back to Ginnie to put his head on her shoulder. "Hehehe Weeembleeeeey! Awgawsh I can't get up! I'm stuck! You crum-bum you knocked me oomph-less!"

The Tuk'ata pup whined and made chittering noises from his jaws, glancing over at her face. "Yeah I know he smells kind of like me. His name is Isley." The pup growled and snapped. "Yes, that Isley. . . no you can't eat him. I told you to go hunting before we left Keldabe, but did you listen?" Ginnie tried to lift her arm and failed.

"I can't. . . . get. . . . up!" Groaning for strain, she flopped back down in her Beskar'gam and the Tuk'ata did a curious thing. Wembley rose up on his hind legs, scooped his fore paws under her arms and started dragging Ginnie backward toward the next set of stairs. Sometimes capable of bi-pedal behaviour, the Sith Hounds as a species were seldom kind beasts. Yet as was her way Ginnie had coaxed a positive and affirming response out of another Beast of the Dark. Wembley got to the staircase and barked for Isley, motioning his head from staring at Isley, to looking up to the top of the stair and back again. The Tuk'ata repeated his gazes as Ginnie continued to giggle. "Wembley's not allowed to climb stairs with anything in his fore paws until he's bigger. Daddy's orders. Help, I can't get up."

More giggles, the fatigue had made Isley's sister into the silliest of beasts.

 

[Darth Metus]

At this point, it was safe to say that, outside of dashing good looks, snark ran in the family. As Isley listened to his sibling's remarks, filled with pride about her new parents, a twinge of envy settled into the pit of his stomach. That was something that he never truly had: an undying pride regarding who his parents were. His father was a drunk. His mother...he had never even met her. His only pride came from being a child of Mandalore, but even that fact didn't help him from feeling just a touch jealous.

Nevertheless, he had a sibling who was more than enough to be proud of. And, like any good brother, he had to play the game of one-ups ever so slightly. "Oh yeah? Well, I'm the son of Petra Cavataio, the most powerful Witch in the Galaxy. Beat that, Gin'ika." he said, his tone alive with amusement. This marked the first time he had ever uttered his mother's name in jest, but given the circumstance he felt it was alright.

"And only when you can best me in a brawl will you earn the title 'Space Dragon'. You're getting close though." he said, gladly allowing himself to be lead along and into Ginnie's personal vessel. The ship was impressive to say the least, and was leagues better than what he was currently flying. However, before he could so much as comment on it, Ginnie was taken off of her feet by a young Tu'kata. Instinct flared for a moment, and if not for Ginnie's peals of amusement, the pup would have met a telekinetic wall.

"Hello there, Wembley." he said, keeping his tone friendly. Isley then watched as his tired sibling was...dragged...to the stairwell. At the beckoning of her pet, the Mandalorian then strode over and liberated Ginnie from its grasp. He then hoisted the exhausted pyromancer into his arms and began to ascend the stairwell. "I'll gladly take the Guest Room." he began, "And after you rest, perhaps you could come with me to Dathomir?"

[member="Ginnie Ordo"]

 

[Ginnie Dib]

"I-ah-huh. I don't got the Dathomiri Witch Queen in my lineage. But! But my mom is the best Mom in the Galaxy! And she's great at kissing boo-boos better." Ginnie nodded to her brother, punching him in the shoulder plate. Had she been less exhausted she might have tried kicking him in the shin, but alas, the girl yawned and rubbed her eyes with the back of her crush gaunt.

"I'll best you in the mornin' vod'ika. Then you can call me Space Dragon. I wanna get a tattoo of a space dragon when I earn the right! Daddy said I can, I already got a Clan Ordo tat and it's so cool." She yawned again, curled up in the safety of her brother's arms as he carried her upstairs. Wembley snarled a hello, trying out a smile that looked more like a huff and a growl. The Tuk'ata raced forward, toddling on two legs then rushing on all four to the bedroom. Wembley opened the bedroom door and rolled around on his own bed, a collection of blankets sewn together into a large enough bed for a growing Sith Hound. He pulled a red blanket out from under what passed for a towel and rubbed his face in it. Ginnie fell out of her brother's arms and yanked off her armour, telekinetically moving it to the armour stand to the side. A cleaning kit rested beside the armour stand, but tonight that would be left behind.

"Okay! I can do that, I'll call my Mom and Dad in the morning to let them know I'm leaving Vorzyd space, Daddy taught me how to put on a Dathomiri Blood Trail, but I don't know much else. Wembley can tell you where the Guest Room is." In her armourweave jumpsuit, Ginnie fell onto her bed and promptly fell asleep.

[member="Isley Verd"]