A Day in Keldabe

[Alkor Centaris]

Sunlight peered through the window and painted Alkor's workbench a pale color. He had been up all night and well into the morning, slaving over an ancient EE-3 Carbine. The result was a handful of components strewn across the desk and the hollowed out frame in both his hands as he got a feel for its weight.

He pressed his lips together pensively as he moved it slowly from left to right, then lifted it to shoulder height and glanced down the iron sights. In the old days, they were mostly fired from the hip, or Mandalorians utilized HUD enhancements to compensate for poor optics. Modern advancements in tech allowed for strides in that field, but this- this was a special case.

Following a custom order, he wanted to keep several aspects of the old gun while also generating something entirely new. He slung the weapon across his shoulders and sat back in his chair, then stared up at the ceiling. When he decided to become a Smith, it was so he could create things instead of simply destroying them. The problem was, he still had to learn how to do it as well as others who had been doing it for far longer.

When someone came to him, rather than one of his competitors, he had to take it as a challenge. He had to make a statement. "Come deal with me, because I guarantee excellence." Now he just needed to make good on that promise.

"So, the buyer wants a gun very similar to an EE-3, but with greater firepower," he mulled over the concept in his mind, letting his tongue glide across his teeth as vivid images of battlefield application played out in his thoughts. "Better optics, a full auto setting..."

He blew a sigh through gritting teeth.

"This is going to take some doing," he muttered as he returned the weapon husk to his desk and opened one of the drawers to produce a drawing pad. With a pencil, he began to jot down ideas and sketch the framework of his next work.

 

[Keira Priest]

"Y'know, there's this thing called sleep. Might want to try it sometime." Her entrance was preceded by a rapping of knuckles against the doorframe, though she didn't pause to listen for an answer. The two had long since passed the need for such formality, and while they both valued personal space, there were certain venues they both shared. That, and Keira knew full well he hadn't come home that night, which meant he'd stayed up through it. Again. He'd gotten better at taking care of himself by a long shot, but there were still fundamental things to work on, and this was an example of that. "I'm certain even the greatest warriors and smiths sleep, too. You're allowed to relax."

For a moment or two she watched him work over his shoulder, eventually pulling up a chair and straddling it, folding her forearms over the back and nodding to the schematics laid out in front of him, "Didn't think many people wanted to use those anymore. They're a bit outdated, 'lek?" Hers had been a gift from an old friend, which was part of the reason she still kept it around, the other being that it did its job well. If it weren't for the rifle being Force-imbued, she would almost be okay with it. That reliance on the ethereal was a part of her past she was still trying to cut away.

"What are they asking for?" She noted the frame, taking a few seconds to study it. "Iron sights, real old school. Didn't think you got much better than multi-optic sights that link up to your HUD." Shrugging a shoulder, she glanced about the room before looking back to her brother. "I maintain what I said about you getting sleep. Your buyers can wait. Sleep deprivation isn't fun, believe me." It wasn't often she took on the role of lecturing older sibling, but there was something about him that always brought it out in her, even now, with how he'd grown.

"Figured I'd drop by. Been awhile since we just talked."

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"The buyer was looking for a total makeover," he replied as he continued to sketch. Keira's voice disarmed his immediate need to turn. For anyone else, he would have looked up from his work and started acting like a businessman. "Something custom. I'm gutting the insides and refitting it with rails for interchangable optics." He pried the original optic away with a few subtle movements and tossed the scope to one side. "We have a lot of vode who rely on their HUD too much, in my opinion. Nothing can compensate for a keen eye and steady hands."

Alkor turned the weapon over in his hands appraisingly. "But he wants full auto, and a higher potency of shot. I'm trying to rationalize that. The stronger the shot, the higher the recoil- at fully automatic, the gun would be too much to handle for more than a few seconds."

He sighed, then placed the blaster down again. The cool air from the opened door felt good, considering the heat of the Forge still burning from the back. He kept it hot in order to allow some of his leathers and metals to treat better, but that wasn't a normal procedure. The woman was right- he hadn't got much rest recently, and that did his work very little credit.

"We're not even at war anymore and the orders keep coming in." He spoke now with a laughter in his voice that betrayed his enthusiasm. "It's truly an economic revival for Manda'yaim. I'd hate to be the poor shabuir who lost out on this influx of demand because I fell asleep."

It was more of a joke than anything, something [member="Keira Verd"] knew was a recent addition to his repitore of social skills.

"You picked a good time," he turned about in his seat and draped his arm over the back of it. "I was just about to take a break. What's on your mind, Keira?"

 

[Keira Priest]

As he explained the concept she turned the idea over in her mind, and though her knowledge in terms of forging weaponry was nil compared to his own, Keira still had her own experiences. "So he only fires in bursts. Or put in a capacitor overcharger and give him a switch to use. Works well enough for mine." Of course, her variant was more than a few years older, and in a galaxy like this weapons evolved at a rate that was almost impossible to keep up with. Especially among their people, where everyone was constantly looking for a way to make the next hunt a little easier. It was something she could appreciate, but time had worn out her love for hyper-advanced weaponry. Sometimes there was nothing like getting back to the basics.

His joke drew a genuine smile from her, and she rolled her eyes. "Yeah, I'm sure you'd miss out on a lot catching a few hours of shuteye. You know that period of seven or eight hours, where the orders slow down and you get bored? That's when normal people sleep, di'kut." Not that she was one to talk, as between war and rebuilding she had little free time to do anything else except maybe sleep for six or so hours, sometimes less. Still, it was better than the close to none he always seemed to work with.

It wasn't often the two got personal, but it didn't catch her off guard like it used to. This was more in line with the man he'd become, and it was what she'd slowly learned to expect. His concern for his own well-being and that of others was new, but definitely not unwelcome. "Not much on my mind besides war, politics, and rebuilding. Figuring out our new homestead while trying to decide where to put it. Not Manda'yaim, after the last time. Not sure about Concord Dawn, either. I'd like something out of the way, so when people come looking for us they really have to look. Just not sure where that is."

Rehousing an entire clan wasn't much of a feat when the whole number amounted to yourself and two younger siblings, but that didn't make it any less of a responsibility. They would have to prepare for new arrivals - should anyone ever willingly take the name, given its history - or at the very least they would want room to move freely and do as they wished. That, and she knew how her brother felt about most people. Neither of them particularly enjoyed outside attention, and she surmised Ginnie was much of the same, else she wouldn't have fit in with them so readily and well. So, relative seclusion it was, it was just a matter of figuring out what that meant.

"How about you, vod'ika? Beyond getting this gun to work."

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"The problem with overcharging is the drain on the power cell," he explained, "it allows the charge to replenish while the blaster fires, but at the staggering rate he's asking for, it would deplete the standard pack in a third of the expected lifetime. It just isn't an economic option." How far had he come in the few years he spent as a Mandalorian? Once, his expertise was with lightsabers and blades- now he forged weapons and armor, skills lost to the better part of the Galaxy beyond Mandalore. The way he discussed this now made it feel like he had always known and understood these things.

It went without saying that a Mandalorian understood his craft as well as his own hands.

"I'm no expert on batteries, though," he admitted grimly. "If I had some kind of training as an engineer, it'd be different. Maybe I'll go to MandalMotors about it." He mused over the possibility for a moment before [member="Keira Verd"] spoke again and dragged him back to reality.

"You and I both know, I'm far from normal." The very word confused him sometimes, the way most people said it like some sort of expectation. It took him nearly five years to become remotely sociable, and he still didn't know everything there was to know about it. "I still dream about their faces," he admitted, a haunting fact he wouldn't tell to anyone but his closest family. "The people I killed, people I never knew or cared about. People I had no reason to kill."

He turned back to the gun, a tool for more of the same. He had gotten good at crafting them, but he had always understood using them. His eyes iced over as he recalled. "I lived all that time without a purpose. I lived in a nightmare. I got tired of them."

Alkor considered her situation for a moment, then scratched his head. "Maybe you should approach Australis about a place to build," he suggested. "I heard some of his people started exploring around the sector and beyond, maybe they can point you toward some unclaimed territory."

He had spent more time in the company of the Empire's leadership lately than he ever expected, and some of the news traveled fast in those circles. It was something he could impart to the Alor of Clan Verd, especially given her current state of affairs. Alkor himself was little more than a mercenary and blacksmith. It was funny how their roles seemed somehow reversed in this situation.

"Being asked for my perspective baffles me," he answered honestly. "I'm used to being the knife in hand, not one of the people asked where to stick it." He laughed dryly, then sighed. "Honestly, I've come to a place where I don't care what we do, as long as it benefits Manda'yaim and her people."

 

[Keira Priest]

"You're the Alor'ad of a clan with an old name. It comes with the territory, but you get used to it." His opinion was worth more than he seemed to think, as given his general removal from the state of affairs, he was able to offer unbiased advice where most weren't. It was something she was less capable of, making them the perfect duality more times than not. Slowly but surely he'd developed into the voice of reason, something Keira was mostly at peace with now that she'd gotten used to the idea. Sometimes his suggestions were still a little off the mark, but he was getting there.

Inevitably the conversation would have to circle back to the harder hitting subject matter, but she didn't shy away from it. Now that he was coming to terms with all he had once been and done, it was pertinent that he be given the support necessary to learn and heal from it, and if there was one thing she was knowledgeable about, it was past traumas. "You didn't know any different. It's probably not the answer you're looking for, but it's true. You were just as much a victim as all of them." There was a moment of silence where she looked him in the eyes. "But you're different now. You've got a family, and a place you belong. That's behind you. Cin vhetin, 'lek?"

Nodding along to his final statement, she cracked a smile. "That's the spirit. It's the point we should have been at as a people a long time ago. It's good to see the current Mand'alor agrees." Their clan had had a rough time with the past few regimes, until it came to the point where they swore no fealty, following their own path until they were called for war or some greater collective purpose.

"I just wish it hadn't taken us so long to get here, but better late than never. Now we can focus on being a whole people again, something I don't think I've ever seen. And Verd gets to be the building blocks, even after our predecessors. There's probably something poetic to say about that." She was a firm believer in the philosophy of a clean slate once one became Mandalorian, but she knew full well that took more work than most were willing to put forth. It helped when both you and your siblings were the all or nothing sort, and in this they had all decided undoubtedly to give their all.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

"Titles and lands don't do me any good, Keira," he laughed, "I never valued my life much in my youth, and I'm not about to start getting materialistic now." His grin was almost Cheshire at this point, even though [member="Keira Verd"] was deadly serious. There was no part of being a Clan Leader that carried such significant weight for him- they numbered less than a hundred strong, and the woman next to him handled all of the important decision making and paperwork. He was a glorified benchwarmer.

That mirth melted away when she gave her honest opinion, and though he'd heard many times that he was a 'victim of circumstance,' he knew deep down that he had always had a choice. It was his weakness that ultimately allowed him to submit to being carried along in the undertow. "I'm not down and out about it," he told her, "but just because I'm living a different life now means I can just forget about the old one." His gaze trailed back toward the door back to the Forge, and he stood up to check on the materials he was working with. Too much heat and they'd be totally useless for the project.

"I wouldn't call any part of what we're doing poetic," he reasoned, "because like as not, if we weren't taken back, that's nearly a hundred Mandos less that Yasha would have to help with rebuilding and strengthening Manda'yaim. Her policy is to accept anyone willing to return, and it's not just out of the kindness of her heart."

He did not mistake the Hell Wolf, though. Alkor understood that she did have a heart for her people, and ultimately she wanted the best for them; but he also knew that tactically, turning away even one set of hands was a grave mistake, especially in the current Galactic climate. Mandalore was interested in the affairs of Mandalore, and no one else.

That meant they had almost no allies to have their back.

The door creaked open and he pulled his smock from the wall, then placed his protective gear on his face and both hands. "Want to help shape the components?" he asked. It was lesser metal than Mandalorian Iron this time, and the heat would be considerably less extreme as such. Still, a forge was not especially cool, so if Keira were not used to it, she still might feel the effects quickly.

 

[Keira Priest]

Keira shrugged, "Sure, maybe it was the practical thing for her to do in the long run. But after everything Isley did? All I'm saying is that if I were her, there's more than enough evidence stacked against us. Just an observation." They both knew how lucky they were to be accepted again, but there was no time to reason such a thing between the warring and politics that had ensued their lives recently. From the beginning they'd been put to work, with this amounting to the first moment of reprieve they'd had the opportunity to share in a long while.

"You might not appreciate the titles, but whether you like it or not, our clan looks to you for guidance just as much as they do me. We're the two that stayed behind. That means something." She made no mention of his departure to the Sith, his following their former brother, none of it. While those were events that shaped them and brought them to the point they were today, they were also the past, and would remain there.

Standing when he did, she followed his lead in donning the protective gear. "Even master smiths need help once in awhile, huh?" It was a job she'd partaken in once or twice, when it came to the creation of her first set of armor, the phrik decidedly easier to work with than beskar ever would be. The metal was stubborn, much like the people that wore it as a second skin.

"Is this the only project you have, vod'ika?"

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

He glanced warily at his sister, the gleam in his eye more telling than any words. Though his heritage had forsaken him hundreds of years before, the Corellian in his blood still managed to show itself from time to time. "Gods no," he laughed, "I have them pouring in from all over the Empire. Even one from the Mand'alor- but she wasn't the first one in line, so I'm taking things in order."

The heat buffeted them as the door creaked open, and Alkor tossed a cool, saturated cloth back over his shoulder toward [member="Keira Verd"] as he slipped into his smock. "Keep yourself hydrated, and stay cool. If you feel light-headed at all, go ahead and take a break."

He pulled the templates and gave them another look. All of the casts were formed and ready to fill with molten metal- he just needed to work the forge, now. "These parts are meticulously small, but they're going to be necessary to replace the outdated portions of the EE-3. It can't handle the type of heat expected as of right now, so we're going to mix up some Dallorian alloy."

He started collecting the metals to toss into the mix, then glanced at Keira. "How's the rest of the Clan holding up?"

 

[Keira Priest]

"You'd know if you stuck around long enough." There was nothing inherently malicious in the way she spoke, though the comment was carefully barbed in the way he would recognize. Folding the cloth he'd tossed her, Keira placed it around the back of her neck, its coolness welcome. Shrugging, she watched him work. "There's barely a handful of us, so it's not like there's too much to look after. I think most everyone's just happy to be back. To have something to put their energy towards again." That rang true for the both of them in particular. While managing clan business took up most of her time now, she would have to find something to occupy it with later, not that she wasn't certain that would come along of its own accord eventually.

When he dubbed the EE-3 outdated she feigned offense, shaking her head. "I'll have you know it works just fine. I still think an overcharge toggle wouldn't be a bad idea. Helps when you need a bigger hole." Or maybe that was an issue mostly unique to herself, given that she was fond of taking on Force-users in her spare time, and otherwise hunting those most wouldn't bother with. Okay, so maybe there was a very particular reason for that modification to her own weapon, not that she would discount the usefulness.

"Y'know, you should think about starting up a company if you haven't already. I know you don't fancy yourself much of a businessman, but you wouldn't have to be one, at least not really. Just enough to manage the parts of it that aren't weapons-crafting. Spread your name further than just our people, while still giving them precedence. Something to think about." He had a real talent here, she knew that inherently after listening to him discuss his concepts and designs more than a few times.

"And I meant it, about coming around more. It'd do you good." Though she never let it on verbally most of the time, she did miss her brother.

[member="Alkor Centaris"]

 

[Alkor Centaris]

He grabbed the ingots that he had prepared one at a time as [member="Keira Verd"] spoke to him, taking special care not to talk over her as she spoke. He never talked about his struggles with anyone. He wasn't used to that. So when she directly brought up visiting home, he quietly dodged the topic by allowing it to pass naturally. Alkor firmly believed that his best contribution to anything would be financial, so actively being there was not only unnecessary, it was probably also for the best. Even in their fondest moments, Alkor and Keira were almost always fighting.

There had to be times when the family wasn't fighting. That was the reality that he lived with. Even if he was out on a job, or fighting in some war, at least he was protecting them so that they could live a halfway normal life. Alkor couldn't afford himself the luxury.

"Sounds like they're doing well," he remarked as he dropped the metals into the vat and they instantly began to dissemble. Molten metal sloshed about the bottom and began to liquefy, heating to the point where it was malleable enough for him to work. "Hopefully they're channeling that energy positively. When everything went to hell, there wasn't much positivity left for them."

He pulled the metalworker's visor over his grim expression and began to slowly turn the vat in order to get an even distribution throughout the alloy. The casting would prove to be the most difficult task, especially given the small size of the parts. With a grunt, he let the mix fall back into the middle of the cauldron as it bubbled violently. He turned down the heat a fraction, aware that too much could burn away some of the integrity of the final product.

"I'm hardly interested in doing work beyond the sector, honestly," Alkor revealed. "There was a time when aruteiise weren't even allowed to own Beskar, and I'm a firm believer that those times were better. What sets us apart from them is superior technology, and armor. They have their lightsabers and magical powers, but we had things they couldn't." He placed his mitts over his hands and gripped the super-hot vat, slowly rocking it to and fro. "I think we should continue the trend of exclusivity, and to that end, I hope to supply only goods and services that benefit the Mando'ade."

He glanced sidelong when she pressed the issue of home, and sighed. "Maybe I'll come for a visit once you've sorted everything out," he muttered. "I'm no good at building homes and families. Honestly, I think you should make Ginnie or Asha Alor'ad. They're passionate about their family, and always looking out for them like mother hens."