Wue'gi'vode, Mandos! (ME Council)

[Yasha Cadera]

Wue’gi’vode, Mandos!
The First Council Meeting

"Everyone knows the Oyu'baat. It's been here since Canderous Ordo ​

was a glint in his mama's eye, and it never closes, ever."​

During the Cataclysm, the beloved Oyu’baat Hotel and Tapcaf was a victim of the destruction. This would not do. Pushed onward to repair and rebuild the relic by men and women old enough to tell Yasha what the place meant, the young Mand’alor ensured that yet again, Oyu’baat was open for business. Beyond the tapcaf’s raucously rambunctious main tapcaf space, an innocuous staircase led to a hidden door.

Just as the former, this revived version of the belatedly restored legendary swill-shop held a secret room. The tihaar would flow here, as with down below. Yet, there was a further purpose for Mand’alor the Infernal to hazard a drinking establishment with a swollen belly.

Mandalore was open for business, the terraforming was moving ahead of schedule, and it was time for the Mand’alor to receive council on where the Empire was to go next.

Ka’lo & Ambrose Mantis stood on either side of Yasha, as was their constant desire. Mand’alor the Infernal chuckled, and shook her head, pulling two chairs out on either side of her.

“Sit down already, you’re making this awkward.”

“Mand’alor, we ought to stand.”

“No, you ought to be what you are, two of my closest vode, and people I not only trust with my life, but with Mandalore. Sit. This meeting is as much for you as them. Sit! Sit, I insist.” Yasha patted their seats, and grinned.

“Fine.” Ambrose grumbled, taking off his helmet and squirming into the offered chair. “Feels wrong. I ought to be… you know….”

Yasha couldn’t stop the chuckle that burst out of her lungs as the others began to enter the secret room. “Worse than ad’ike, both of you.”

Once everyone found their way to the room and the tihaar was poured, Yasha stood and held up her mug of tinget tea. "Su cu'yar, Mando'ade. Thank you for drinking the good stuff and joining me today. I have gathered you all here for a singular purpose. The rule of the Mandalorian Empire should not rest on one person's shoulders and decision making power. This Empire belongs to all of us, and as we sit around this round table, I do so to remind all of us that we are Mando'ade. We neither kneel, nor do we put some above others. You have all distinguished yourselves as valiant, loyal, wise and long lasting. While some faces are new, so is mine. While some have survived more battles than our ancient Mand'alors of the past, we youths have not. This Empire deserves the direction of the collective, and is not one person's glory. So. I am instigating this meeting as the first of many.

You present are who I would like to accept a new role as my Council. As diligent Mandalorians who have the good of our people at heart and mind at all times. Wue'gi'vod. Brothers and Sisters of the Council. All of you have value. Do you accept?"

[member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Raiz Australis"] [member="Quoron Viszla"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Kaden Mantis"] [member="Kaine Australis"][member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"]

 

[Strider Garon]

Strider was absolutely amazed in how accurately detailed the new Oyu'baat was. It was the spitting image of his favorite tapcaf that had been destroyed along with the rest of mandalore in the a apocalyptic event that had change the planet and the people forever. The old grizzled veteran sat there at teh round table, his scarred face and old eyes scan the room in awe while the Young Mand'alor spoke her piece. If he wasn't the wiser, he could swear that the tavern had not been touched by destruction accept when he looked out the window one could tell New Keldabe was not like her predecessor. The biosphere being the most obvious in the change to scenery.

Strider looked to the bar's edge closest towards the stairwell that lead up to the hotel rooms. The visual of the chairs brought back a dark memory of the past. The original stairs was where a rogue mandalorian had slipped a blade into Strider's throat in a near successful attempt at assassination. His last memories of that sour day was coming down them stairs, arming up as keldabe was under siege. The assassin struck true, but Strider did not go down with out a fight. He had killed the man before slumping into the chair at the very bottom of the stairs, fading into the absyss of unconsciousness while his blood gushed from his throat. Then it was dark, mashed up dreams and nightmares till he finally woke some time later. His brother Garrus had kept him in cryo till he could find proper medical services to save his life.

The old man rubbed his neck where the blade had left it's scar. He was glad that this replica had not reproduced the very chair he had died on that they kept as a impromptu memorial for the legend. He grabbed his glass of tihaar and took a long sip, refocusing on Yasha and the rest of the mando'ade that were seated around the round table. The wolf cub was fully grown with a cub of her own on the way. She stood as soul ruler of the mandalorians, even though such a position was usually filled by a mando of more seasons under their helmet she had been nothing less than a steady rock against the vicious waves that had repeatedly crashed against mandalore. Though young as she was, her heart and mind was on the right path. Strider had served man mand'alors, all of different taste and ambitions, so to say that he was a sort of expert on the subject was a understatement. In the case of Yasha, Strider had unhesitatingly placed his loyalty and trust in her and had come out of retirement to help her and the mandalorians in these uncertain times.

"I accept!" Strider's deep resonating voice replied with confidence. This was a step in the right direction, Yasha may be the sole ruler but she was very wise to let the voice of the people aid her in making decisions that effect the empire as a whole. This was one of many pieces of evidence that the young wolf was right where she needed to be.

[member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Cassiopeia was summoned to a meeting by Mand'alor the Infernal. She was always a little nervous being around the Mand'alor - she was a powerful, intimidating woman. Despite all the odds & the chaos the Mandalorian Empire had been through, she ruled with a just & even hand. The accomplishments she'd accomplish now or in the future would be impossible with someone else. She wanted the best for her people, the best for the Mandalorians. She had arrived with Raiz, wearing matching outfits. Cassiopeia wore a purple, floral designed dress. It was simple, but formal.

Of course, Cassiopeia's mind was focused on the terraforming program that was ongoing on Mandalore. It was advancing well ahead of schedule, with the extra resources proving to work. Cassiopeia felt a sense of accomplishment, despite her late entrance to the program. It would never have been possible without Yasha, companies, or people involved in the project. She sighed happily, crossed her legs, and leaned against her chair.

And that is why she was here. She was seated beside Strider, the gentleman she had met at the ORC talks. Around the table were several other individuals she knew and recognized - either family, or love, or friendship. She took a sip of the tihaar from the glass as she looked towards the Mand'alor, carefully listening to her words. She smiled as she listened. Not only had Yasha accomplished a lot, but so had every other person in this room. They were a team to be reckoned with - which is why Yasha brought them together.

It was an honor to be apart of the group. Cassiopeia herself, usually belittling of her accomplishments, wasn't sure how she even ended up in this room, deserving to be apart of this history in the making. She was sure glad she did, though.

She nodded at the end of Yasha's proposal. Strider spoke first - he accepted.

She sat her cup of tihaar down. "I accept," her voice soft but firm, confident. She would do her best to assist the Mand'alor, to assist the Mandalorian Empire, and further its goals and interests. The empire was her home, her family now.

[member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Raiz Australis"] | Everyone Else

 

[Jaster Awaud]

Sitting in the Famous Warriors Tavern, he was shocked out closely it resembled the place of his memories. His father and Grandfather had visited this place on many occasions. He traveled with them both to celebrate his position in the Defense Force that served the Mand'alor during the Plague. He did not remember much that night, but that only increased the legend of the place that much more. Only those with strong guts and Baskar enforced will could remember spending a day in these halls. It was amazing they were able to rebuild it so close to what it was original, to be honest he almost fell for the replica. He would need to look to Mand'alor the Infernal, [member="Yasha Mantis"], after all she invited the man to meet here.

He never served the leader of the Clans, his loyalty was always to the Unity of the Mandalorian People. He followed the Creed of Clan Awaud, Unity over Loyalties, Culture over Blood. He did not bend the knee to Mantis, or her Government, but so long as she did not turn her blade on the people, he would lend all he had to her needs. That was the agreement with The Infernal. With that, he was amazed to receive a call to join in a meeting with some of the elite of the Mandalorian Culture.

Large names such as [member="Strider Garon"], the Field Marshal of Terror turned Space Trucker was a true veteran of the Old Ways. Others like [member="Shia Kryze"] is of the best Frontier Fighters the Mandalorians could muster. Then there was Battle Master [member="Kaine Australis"], one of the newer additions to the Empires Ranks, but was a rising star of this age. The others here were also great warriors, and minds the this Generation had to offer.

Jaster himself was nothing more then a Mercenary Fleet Admiral and owner of a Trade Empire while these individuals gained great honor for their Clans. He felt honored to be apart of this gathering of greats and rising stars. However, that did not distract his personal ideals and creed of keeping Manda'yama united, this would help him keep the dreams of his Grandfather alive.

He dressed in a Black Leather Coat, open to show his Awaud Red shirt off and dark fabric pants. Jaster placed his Tankard on the table and as Strider and [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] accepted the honor, he spoke up as well. "I would be Honored to accept Mand'alor."

​

[member="Raiz Australis"] [member="Quoron Viszla"] [member="Kaden Mantis"] ​

 

[Atsushi Ono]

A pint of the thick, black, ne'tra gal sat next to his buyce. Not the best on Mand'alor, but that was sort of the point when you came to a place like the Oyu'baat. Even if now it sat on the waterline of the new Lake Kelita and was incredibly popular with the Mandalorians that called this city home, it was still the Oyu'baat and it would be for thousands of years more.

He just wished the food was a little better.

Keldabe hadn't been known for its fishing but now being basically an island some places were trying to adopt the seafood sort of lifestyle. But none of that fancy stuff was here. He sucked his teeth and took a swig of the drink and took note of the different faces, emblems, and helmets around the room. Some, he recognized as old clans or houses like his own. Strider was a welcome face. It irked him he wasn't sitting closer to the Mand'alor as House Skirata had for generations...But their status had been tarnished by the traitor Gilamar Skirata, his cousin and previous head of House Skirata. Many of the smaller clans and large segments of the two main branches left with him due to their distant relation to Jedi masters and Force Using Mandalorians going back to the Legendary Clone Wars where the clan saw a huge amount of growth. Now the House was a shell of its former self. He intended to correct that.

By any means necessary.

"I accept."

[member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Yasha Mantis"]

 

[Quoron Cadera]

[member="Yasha Mantis"][member="Strider Garon"][member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"][member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"][member="Kaine Australis"][member="Dorn Skirata"]

I am a man among legends. Yasha is the greatest leader I have known and will support her to the end of my days. The stories of Strider have been told since I was old enough to hear them. Kaine is a good man and I am glad to be siting at the same table. These others have become legends in their own right. I am here to advise on how to keep the navy running and supporting the empire. The others began to accept their position

(Grrrrrrr) the chair grinds against the floor as I stood up “I humbly accept this great honor. I will do my best to carry this responsibility to the best of us ability.”

 

[Ambrose Cadera]

An old dog never died. He kicked and keeled over, rolled on his haunches and bit. Sitting at a crowded table is foreign to me, what does an old dog need with a place at the table? The Undying let me stay in my place behind him. Guarding their shebs, killing who needed killing.

I’m an old dog which functions on killing. Slaking my jaws on the liquor from preys’ necks was the only joy a gurlanin like me had. A seat at political tables? Fighting [member="Yasha Mantis"] on the use of a chair was useless. The wolf pup was tenacious, and there I was sitting on a chair by Yasha’s side, my riduur on the other.

[member="Strider Garon"] gave his permission and I stare at the legend across the table. Old soldiers. Nothing more in life could be feared beyond a Mandalorian who survived to old age. [member="Dorn Skirata"] came, and I wondered how, but the Skiratas were crafty, and this one smells… less wrong than the Skirata I remember. The Builder.

New faces, old ones, I sit back and let myself experience for a moment the act of discussion. Australis, Garon, Skirata, Mantis, Awaud. How many of these faces would survive the next round?

“All I want is a target, Mand’alor. I accept… now who needs killing?” I drawled out the side of my mouth, taking a drink of tihaar in this hallowed Mandalorian place.

[member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Quoron Viszla"] [member="Raiz Australis"] @[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Kaine Australis"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The circle of faces was fitting, a collection of Mandalorians of different breed, ilk and levels of caution. One by one their affirmations came, and Yasha continued to stand, passing her mug of tea between two hands. [member="Strider Garon"] began with his call, and the old soldier gave Yasha an incredible amount of calm. [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] gave hers, and it brought a bright grin to Yasha's face. Her fellow young woman was indeed becoming a wise and scientific council.

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] accepted, and although he was neither a member of her Empire, nor tied to it by blood, Yasha knew having the avenue of his ear and his council was a worthy pursuit.

[member="Dorn Skirata"] gave his acceptance, and for a brief second, Yasha’s eyelids narrowed. She went over the guest list in her mind, then smirked. MandalMotors was the saviour of Manda’yaim, the first company to sink in their heels and say ‘we’re rebuilding’. Although the state of Clan Skirata was a worry in the back of Yasha’s mind, having Dorn in the council was right. There should always be a Skirata involved in the function of Mandalore.

Her adopted brother [member="Quoron Mantis"], whose tactical and analytical mind did the Mandalorian Navy much good gave his acceptance, and as was fitting, the final yes came from Death Watch.

[member="Ambrose Mantis"], Alor of the Yalilyr, protector of Mand’alor and a vicious hunter with little qualm and less quarter. While most only saw Ambrose’s position on the sidelines of the Palace, Yasha knew him to be the adopted uncle who stood firm to protect his Pack. He was not a glamorous man, and this was not a time for glamour.

“Excellent. We’ll get targets soon enough, Ambrose. I have half a mind at pointing you and [member="Strider Garon"] in a direction and yelling ‘GO’.” Yasha shook her head slowly, “But I have too much sense, alas, to hit anything outside of those targets with tactical value. Diplomatic talks with Eshan failed. Knowing our cultural history, I can see why, but knowing the current political climate of the galactic powers, I would love to have another warrior race on our side. There is an emptiness to our West, it is a direction I am want to go. Leave the core worlds to scrambling nations, and the southeast to the Sith. Thoughts? Ideas?”

Pursing her lips, Yasha eased into her chair with Ambrose pulling it out for her.

“Roche, Mando’ade. It belongs to us, and the Silver Jedi know it. I believe they mean to settle the matter diplomatically. Should it come to velvet-clad diplomacy, and its’ beskar-clad sister war, what does the council suggest? Our allies, the Confederacy, also have an alliance with the Silver Jedi, and they are our closest neighbours other than the Sith at Agamar… last I spoke with Darth Carnifex, we agreed to a pact of Non-Aggression, and settled that a buffer of neutral systems remain around us both. As odd as it may sound to some of you, I trust Zambrano to honour the pact. They have been, in our recent past, better neighbours than any others we had. So. Roche then, and a direction for future expansion. Tell me, vode. What would you do? Let us choose a direction for the Empire which brings plenty to our people and practice to our wolves of war.”

 

[Raiz]

Bam. The sound of the young Mandalorian's head hitting square onto the table ahead of him, and soon after the screeching of the chair being flung behind Raiz soon follows, quick to be on alert fromt he percieved threat of the table making contact with his forehead. After a moment he began to chuckle, before adjusting the suit he wore, which clearly was picked out by Cassiopeia rather than himself. As he takes his seat once more and tapped the table a moment, a smirk appeared to show that he had gotten over the blunder he had just pulled.

"Ah- Yes, I um- Accept, thank you Yasha." he would look around before clearing his throat. "I would like to fight, but growth seems to be tactically better, currently."

-​

​

[member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Ambrose Mantis"] [member="Quoron Mantis"] [member="Dorn Skirata"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Strider Garon"]​

 

[Jaster Awaud]

It had seemed that the council had grown quite at the question of what the Empire should do next. He himself did not bend the knee to [member="Yasha Mantis"], he offered all he could to keep the Clans United. Yasha had proven to be a great leader, it was why he served on this council even though he was an outsider in his current form. An Alor in his own right, and Mandalorian by blood, and True Warrior by combat, he knew that Yasha was the person to keep this Planet and her people protected not just from outside forces, as well as from themselves.

He was an outsider yet he felt he needed to offer his council in the best way he could, by speaking objectively. He stood to start a conversation or at least a topic, "I would like to offer a suggestion," Serving as a Mercenary for many of his years as an Exile, he was glad now he could offer words as a compass to his people. "The Empire is located in a very strong position, with worlds like Concord Dawn and Wayland being our source of Raw Materials, and others feeding and building for our homeworld, we are nearly self sufficient enough so that we are both a threat as well as a Phrik Wall that no one can brake, but the one thing we are short on is Trade Control,"

Jaster was a Merchant and Military Strategist, he knew the Economy is what build armies and keep Mandalorians truly full, both stomach and pockets. "Taris, she is a world that is ignored by both the Sith and the GA as well as the Coalition and the Collective," Taris was a nothing world at the moment, it had no use other then a neutral zone for the Sith and the GA to stop as they spy on one another. "Taris is a world on the Hydrian Way, at the moment this Empire has to pay her tariffs to trade with both the Sith and this nations Allies to the South, if we make that world our own, it would be a massive advantage as it could boost our economy and open uninterrupted trade along the Hydrian Way."

[member="Ambrose Mantis"] [member="Quoron Mantis"] [member="Dorn Skirata"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Raiz Australis"]

 

[Ambrose Cadera]

"Dathomir is along the Hydian Way. Taris will only cement our control over it. For that matter, we need to secure Bandomeer. It's the end of a direct pass to Bastion. Say what you will, trade with the Sith Empire does still put credits in our coffers."

What was Australis cooking up now in his labs and facilities on Myrkr? I ought to send Yalilyr to inspect it, or bring Yasha so she can see for herself, and I beside her. The girl is young, but wiser than many I've met and even more than I've slaked between my jaws. Teachable. Still, this new communication technology tilts my head.

I hunger to see its' usage. I also hunger to see Australis' son wake up from his ruddy nap.

"The slumbering pup isn't wrong, Yash'ika. We require growth, not combat. Not yet..."

[member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Raiz Australis"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Strider Garon"] [member="Dorn Skirata"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Kaden Mantis"]

 

[Gaia Sunaris Cadera]

Cassiopeia almost felt like she was in a dream. She could only imagine how proud her parents would be of her, how proud Kaine would be. In either case, she sat back down into her chair with the others. There were others who had to accept or deny the request of the Mand'alor. Cassiopeia gave a glare towards Raiz, hiding a grin. She had quickly fallen in love with him, but the poor guy made her way too self-conscious and embarrassed. She reached over and squeezed his arm gently. Although, the suit she did pick out for him was an excellent choice for him. She made a mental note to try to bug him to wear a suit more often.

She listened carefully to the Mand'alor status updates, her questions and her request for recommendations. She knew enough about the state of the galaxy that now was a prime time for the Mandalorian Empire to rise up and prove to the other nations that we were something to not be trifled with. The nation's of the galaxy were fraught with instability, chaos, and so forth. Plus, they didn't need core worlds. They could build their own worlds into powerhouses.

Cassiopeia agreed with going to the west - for the most part, the east was occupied by the Sith Empire. The Sith helped Manda'yaim, Mandalore after the cataclysm, and so far have honored their deal of the non-aggression that Yasha and the Darth Carnifex agreed too. Some people would argue it wouldn't be good to get close to the Sith's, which Cassiopeia understood. But, they also tended to idolize light sided forces, when in truth, they often had their own dark sides. There had to be a balance.

Following up on the first part of Jaster's statement, "It is also important to note that the terraforming of Mandalore will most likely be completed by the end of the year. It's going along remarkably well and unless there is some unforeseen incident, the estimates are looking to hold up." With the massive scientific backing, plus the many companies willing to pitch in, it looked like it was going in an excellent direction.

She nodded agreement with Kaine and with Jaster's other recommendations however. Kaine's suggestion of the MBE technology, she nodded her agreement, "I agree. MBE technology would be a very valuable asset on all Mandalorian ships - safer, more coordination, and so forth... All of which essentially increase our efficiency in warfare. If we fight smarter, we'll win faster and with less damage and casualties." She smiled towards Kaine & Dorn.

Finally, after Ambrose, she decided to speak, "I do agree expanding west is our best option. The Silver Jedi Order, I think, would prefer a diplomatic approach. Bandomeer is a great suggestion as well. We should also obtain Westralis. It will help keep the empire compact, with no spindly arms that may be hard to defend. Has lots of major exports, too. Ultimately, for worlds closer to the core, or in other areas, we should have a more wait and see. There is a lot of instability right now, especially after the fall of the Free Worlds Coalition."

[member="Raiz Australis"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] |[member="Quoron Mantis"] | [member="Dorn Skirata"] | [member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Atsushi Ono]

"You said it yourself. Shabla vongese. They've never done us good and I don't plan on putting those karking monsters anywhere near my ships. That being said, working with your company would be beneficial to MandalMotors," he paused, "But keep those damn biots off our ships."

His eyes fell on Cassiopeia. "Be careful on how aggressive your terraforming is. The last time we attempted something of that scale we ended up with the Vong Duse, and those grow by the day like a cancer. We don't need more hickups... Beyond terraforming I'm just glad we've gotten most of our cities back up and running. Keldabe's new great lake has been quite a boon despite what brought it to us. Does MandalArms have a team devoted to exotic tech? Rekali mine is deep underwater now...It would be nice if we could get some good underwater mining gear."

[member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Ambrose Mantis"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Raiz Australis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

The guards stopped him at the gate. They did not recognize him without the armor. He reached to the small of his back and produced the Tomahawk. Not a threat, not a single motion of harm to either of them. They stared in bewilderment, both of them veterans of the all-consuming, all-destructive war that shaped their planet, and their culture. His footsteps were heavy, one of them significantly more heavy than the other.

His footsteps to the hall, even without his armor that he left buried- were heavy. They were loud, to make a point. He cracked his neck as he was lead, by a large armed guard, to the Council room. One of them had the nerve, the audacity to stand near him. He gave him a stare and they backed up about a foot.

The door slowly opened.

Death had returned to Mandalore.

The Wolf had returned to Mandalore.

The Alor of Clan Mantis, the slayer of the Rancor.

He stared at them all individually, before he took a seat the council. With no armor, he stood even larger than most of the Mandalorians in the room. He leaned forward, cupping his calloused hands over each other. He spoke in their tongue, even if some of them spoke in basic.

<"Do not mark my return as a pleasant outing, a friendly visit. I come on grim tidings. I am not here to praise any of you.">

His eyes fell to [member="Yasha Mantis"].

<"I have come to be the voice of reason amidst your misguided attempts at unity.">

He shifted his cybernetic leg only slightly, and adjusted the long hair atop his head.

<"My right at this table is well-established. Before I speak, are there any here who object to me speaking at this table?">

He laid his Tomahawk on the table for them all to see, braided and wrapped in fine leather.

<"Speak now and voice your opinion or I will take your silence as consent.">

 

[Yasha Cadera]

The footsteps in the hall punctuated through the Council Room floor with the resounding confidence of a weary and uncontrolled man. A daughter always knew the sound of her father.

Yasha’s mouth went dry. Her eyes cast to the door. She longed for her father's return in her life, for his guidance and wisdom. Yet, she did not yearn for what Mandalore did to him, the chaos and the vengeance and the hate.

“Daddy?” Six months along in her pregnancy, the young Mand’alor pushed off from the table, heaving to her feet with the aid of Ka’lo. “Let him through! Yalilyr, stand down.”

She held up her hand to [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Raiz Australis"] and [member="Strider Garon"]. For [member="Preliat Mantis"] to return to Mandalore was an event of itself. After her father left, Yasha never thought she’d see him on Manda’yaim again. Hearing her father’s voice rumble across the table, Yasha stayed momentarily standing.

He’d come to chide them. He’d come on an ill wind.

“Your voice is welcome at this table. Please speak.”

 

[Jaster Awaud]

He continued to sit at the table, listening to the others. Again he was an not of the Empire, his input was only offer council, as a Veteran Soldier, and as a Merchant. It was good to see others look to agreeing with his statement, Taris as well as Bandomeer were great targets for the Mandalorian Empire to expand. Such as [member="Ambrose Mantis"], these planets secured their trade lanes and cemented their trade relations with any Nation they pleased. The man did not want his people to be a weapon another nation used to their pleasure.

It was at this time that [member="Preliat Mantis"] entered the room. The heavy footfall of the man could be heard from outside the room. Jaster looked upon the man in a wave of little care. Preliat gained his name and status as a outstanding warrior, so much so that he would honor the man and his presence. However, he did not care much for the man as he did little in helping rebuild their Homeworld, and even less in assisting his own daughter in Uniting the Clans after she claimed he Title. He did not care for what his opinion, that was until he made a mockery of [member="Yasha Mantis"] unity of the Clans. Yet the Mand'alor allowed him to make a swipe at her hard work and still offer words of 'Reason'. He could not stay quiet to such a mockery of even the attempt the young Mand'alor to pass without a word.

Without looking to him he spoke, <Apologies Alor Mantis, but you must mean the misguided attempt of Unity out of a rift you helped create,> Speaking in his native tongue as well, he placed his rough hands on the table and crossed his fingers, <So the real question is if your 'Words of Reason' are in assisting the continued Unity of our people, or crack our peoples recovery?>

Still with his hands on the table and finally looking to the Alor of Clan Mantis he continued to speak, <But as the Mand'alor said, you are welcome to speak at this table.>

Jaster knew the strength of Preliat, but the man did not know his strength. He did not care for the discord this may cause, for he was dedicated to never allow another rift spit his people. He knew all at the table were dedicated to Mand'alor's attempts in healing the wounds of the Civil War. All at the table but Preliat, and not being a subject of Yasha she could not order him to be quiet.

[member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Raiz Australis"] [member="Dorn Skirata"]

 

[Shia Kryze]

Shia stepped quietly into the Oyu'baat as the last words of [member="Preliat Mantis"] and [member="Yasha Mantis"] echoed around the room.

She paused at the door, running a hand across her head as [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] spoke. She frowned, then after a moment the frown left her face and she padded up to the table, also unarmoured, but silent as the grave. She could make a point too - the Alor of Clan Mantis was not the only person bred from birth to kill in the room.

<"I object.">

The darksaber was placed neatly next to the Tomahawk, the ancient symbol of Death Watch authority looking remarkably plain, when all was said and done. Just a longer than normal lightsaber with an odd guard and a blackened durasteel casing.

<"When you abandoned your daughter and your family, you abandoned the right to speak to Yasha like that, when you drank yourself into a pit, you abandoned the right to critique those who stayed to fight for our people, and when you abandoned your people, you abandoned your right to speak at this table.">

Shia did not look at Preliat at first, a man she had admired once. Her gaze drifted around the council, when she finally did look at him, there was no fear and no give in her eyes.

<"We're not here to listen to your misguided attempts at redemption. Deeds, not words. Clan leader Mantis.">

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] [member="Yasha Mantis"] [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Dorn Skirata"] [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] [member="Ambrose Mantis"] [member="Kaine Australis"] [member="Raiz Australis"][member="Quoron Mantis"]

 

[Preliat Mantis]

[member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] spoke first, and then so did [member="Shia Kryze"].

<"You would not be sat around this table if it were not for the efforts of men like me, Jaster. You would a far lesser position if it were not for my sacrifices and the blood that I spilled for my people.">

Tongue as sharp as the tomahawk, Preliat turned his head back to Shia. Hatred burned in his eyes. The ocean of rage swirled within him. He stood up, curling his knuckles on the table, staring down the pale, bald woman.

<"You speak as if I did not converse with my own daughter-"> A heavy, powerful hand struck the table, nearly shaking the room. But his voice never raised. It jumbled the darksaber- and the tomahawk on the table. <"Of my departure from the Mandalorian space for a well-earned respite. You speak as if she is a weak-willed fool that constantly needs me around. She is as much of her mother as she is of me. She has become a fearless leader and earned more respect on a galactic level than I. Do not speak of her like she is still a child, she is my child but that is why she does not need me to hold her hand. I have ached for her, but as a parent, as her father, I have to let my chicks fly on their own. She has soared, even without my guidance. Do not ever speak of me as an absentee father ever again, cretin.>"

His eyes snapped to the darksaber and back to her.

<"Perhaps if I cleaved your skull with my tomahawk, or retrieved some ancient trinket like the one you placed on the table- then perhaps my words would carry more weight with you? Or if I killed another great member of our culture? Or perhaps I should shed more blood across the stars in the name of the Mando'ade? I have seen what lies beyond our borders, Shia- if your nearsightedness and stubbornness would permit itself a singular moment to alleviate itself from your skull, you would see that the Mandalorians are not always the most correct or even best. It is why my wife, it is why her mother-"> A hand pointed to Yasha.

<"Found herself buried under ash. I did not abandon my people, Shia- my people abandoned me long ago. Truth be told, I have been here, been a part of this culture for nearly as long as you have been alive. And I have done plenty. My actions have spoken for me when I broke the throne on Dromund Kaas, to when I killed the Rancor in the Cold Iron City. Speak to me as if I have done nothing as of late for the Mando'ade and I will rend your flesh from your bones and hang your bones from the ceiling as a reminder of who I am.">

He fixed his hair, and coughed and turned back to Yasha.

<"Councils in the past have only caused problems for the Mando'ade. Ra objected to the idea. Not every idea and belief that Ra held necessarily was correct. But the Alor Council being dissolved was one move that he did correctly. This council has been tried before many times, daughter of mine- and it has failed. This does not denote any one of the Mando'ade gathered at this table, nor their contributions- simply that the council you seek to establish may not entirely be beneficial in the grand scheme of things.">

[member="Dorn Skirata"] l [member="Yasha Mantis"] l [member="Kaine Australis"] l [member="Strider Garon"]

 

[Yasha Cadera]

“ENOUGH!” Yasha slammed her palm on the wooden table and cracked it, a fissure of the wood spanning near the whole length. The pregnant Epicanthix looked first to [member="Shia Kryze"] and then to her father, Preliat Mantis.

The Wolf.

The Wolf's Daughter stood, pregnant and grieving the man who recently returned home. Oh how she wanted to leap across the table and be embraced by him. How desperate she was to sink into his arms and disappear into her father's overwhelming embrace. He, the Wolf. The death-knell of every trouble.

“I needed help!” Yasha’s words rang out. “The Council exists in your absence, father! I was alone! A girl of barely twenty holding the last string of power from Ra’s regime, and I had no father, nor advisors to guide me. Nobody but Carnifex offered a hand in welcome. I asked these people you see before you to help guide me in leading the Mando’ade past survival to something more intrinsic. Something greater than Ra could envisage. Something long lasting. As sustaining as the life in my belly.”

She looked to all the members of the Wue’gi Vode around the great cracked table, to [member="Kaine Australis"], the ferocious and effervescent General. To [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"], who offered economic boons and space lane travels. To [member="Dorn Skirata"] the quiet and foreboding presence who guided MandalMotors and looked to renew his family name. To [member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] and [member="Raiz Australis"], her peers and friends who had for all concerned, a diligent eye on things Yasha had no knowledge of. [member="Strider Garon"] sat in repose, the great dragon of the Mando’ade, equal to Preliat in battle, yet none could meet the Wolf in a fight.

​

Nobody but Clan Mantis could be so inhuman and so vicious. ​

​

Nobody but Clan Mantis could rear their ad’ike on the blood of their enemies and end up with a Mand’alor.​

It was their way. ​

“You wanted me?” Yasha whispered, breaking across the council table as [member="Preliat Mantis"] spoke. Yasha’s heart burst, echoing with the wounds her father inadvertently laid upon her.

“I was a thirteen year old girl, when you threatened to turn your back on Mandalore, Daddy. I asked for my Verd’goten to take place on Dathomir to save you. To salvage what we could have. Maybe if I got my answers about Ra, and you saw your daughter succeed, you’d feel better. You’d heal from Mama and Eli's deaths.

You could stay. I wasn't ready and I knew it.”

Letting the words ring out, Yasha collected her herself and continued. “But you didn’t. Your scream led me through seven years of Rekali’s hell. Seven. Years. [member="Shia Kryze"] was with me. As was [member="Kaden Mantis"], they followed me in the Dark. In the horror and in the Netherworldly hell, which my mother, your wife survives… Mama’s still there, Daddy. She waits for you, fading day in and out. Fading like coloured wallpaper in the sun…”

Yasha cleared her throat and shut her eyes, standing with her hands on Preliat’s developing grandchild in her belly.

“This was your burden. I am wearing it. You were supposed to be Mand’alor, but you deserted the Cuir Rekr. Death left us, and Katlaydr was all who remained. You turned and buried your armour, led yourself from our space and joined the Jetii. Mother would be ashamed of you... Ask Shia. She knows Mama. She's spent seven years with [member="Aditya Mantis"] telling her exactly what to do.” Yasha’s whisper drew hoarse, stinging by the red rims of her eyes.

“You left the care of the Mandalorian Empire in the arms of your suffering and beleaguered twenty year old daughter, who by right should have never taken the Mantle until I was much, much older than I am now. Mistakes were made, my fault and others. Mostly mine. I asked you to come home…” Yasha’s voice choked and broke upon the wood table, cloaked in the agony of a daughter whose father took his own interests instead of hers.

“You say I am strong like Mama… I hope so. I can’t be broken like you… not without letting Mandalore crumble to its’ knees.” She rubbed her eye, banishing any sign of weakness as folly.

As restraint.

“I asked these people before you by name. I chose my council based on their merit, on their actions for the Mandalorian people. Who are you to tell me this will fail? You, who silenced yourself in the Jetii’s forest. I do not fault you for leaving, Father, you were at your limit’s end. Your mind was broken as was your heart. Nobody gave more to Mandalore than you. You even gave Mandalore a daughter. But you left and it took these many people to replace you, my father.

My anchor and rock.

I would lay the title of Mand’alor at your feet right now, I would set my war hammer at your portion of the table if it would make the Mandalorian Empire stronger. If it would save our people… but the truth remains.

I stayed behind to clean up our business. To clean up Ra's business. To clean up Malika’s business, as small as it was. To clean up your business, and Uncle Silas’s. I kept an Empire from its’ knees by the grace of these people before me, so why would I become a tyrant without wisdom!? Why would I become a tyrant without restraint, when these people helped me stay strong?

Daddy, I need you every day. I need you like oxygen in the atmosphere we breathe. I love you with every fibre of my corporeal and incorporeal forms and that love is as real as this table, and these people and this planet under our feet. You told me once in the ruins of Dromund Kaas that the longevity of the Mando’ade was due to the culture upon which we found ourselves. If even one Mando’ad survives these times, we win. Our culture survives. It is not for power we build this empire, or for trade or gold. It is to bring our wounded home, to expand our culture so all who enter it may become one with Manda when we die. Like Ginnie Ordo, whose body only recently turned to ash.

Mama did not become one with Manda. She’s waiting to once again become one with you. She clings to Eli’s fading spirit, holding him in Rekali’s Castle, until he one day also comes home. All I can do is ensure that the people of which I lead have a voice in the leadership of our little kingdom, and to defend them, when outside forces would destroy us for our sins, our attributes and our gifts. You are, as ever, welcome at Mand'alor's Table, Father.

At my table.

Do not think others are not.

They have stood beside me, when you have not. They have lingered here, when you found your peace. A wonderful peace. A gracious and deserved peace. Yet… I know enough to know I am without wisdom in many matters, and need to hear what those who are wise would say.”

 

[Shia Kryze]

(music)​

Shia listened to the man standing before her, her pale features as calm and moving as if they were carved from the stone of Manda'yaim itself as he spoke from his heart.

She waited, patiently, while Yasha spoke, letting her al'vod speak from hers. Not one emotion crossed her face, even as Yasha defended her and the others, as she spoke of... places and times Shia would rather not remember.

All throughout the conversation, her eyes never left [member="Preliat Mantis"].

She let silence descend over the table for heartbeat, perhaps two. Then she spoke

<"I am done with people like you, like Munin, like Ra, who glorify a dead past over the needs of the present. I am done with them undoing everything I've fought for in the name of their twisted view of Mandalorian ideology. I am done with their history defining our present. I am done with standing by and watching our people get torn apart.">

She paused for another moment, as if considering her actions.

<"Not today.">

Then without a single tell or tic of emotion, without even a flicker in her heart to spark the senses of a Jetiise she uncoiled into a right hook, aiming for the Wolf's jaw with every ounce of strength in her body. Which might not be as large or as strong as some, but was that of a brutal race trained to a peak in a brutal culture, and it was driven with every carefully honed bit of control she had.

[member="Yasha Mantis"] | [member="Preliat Mantis"] [member="Strider Garon"] | [member="Jaster of Clan Awaud"] | [member="Dorn Skirata"] |[member="Cassiopeia Caranthyr"] |[member="Ambrose Mantis"] | [member="Kaine Australis"] | [member="Raiz Australis"] |[member="Quoron Mantis"]