A trip back to Mandalore {Pm for Inv}

[ToKola Bakari]

Mandalore~0900​

A fog of soot and smoke clouded Zaz's vision. As his boots made contact with the now dying grass on Mandalore's surface he could not help but let out a bitter sigh. He had visited the planet several times since it's cataclysm and each time it felt as if he was seeing the wreckage that was his home for the first time.

Having landed his ship in the planets western hemisphere he was here for one reason and one reason only. While the Mandalorian people were in a state of fragility there were few things that could boost their motivation. Especially among Clan Tal'verda, whose clan had suffered a serious blow during the destruction of Mandalore.

"Well.....Isn't this just a new type of hell." He commented over their comm channel. "Everyone, keep your helmets on here. The soot hasn't cleared in this area yet." Zaz deactivated his HUD, the soot and smoke playing havoc with his helmet's sensors. Once he did he took notice of the structures that stood before him. At first look it would appear to be some form of homestead or compound. However, the coloration of the building as well as the massive land cleared from the surrounding area said far different. This was no base, it was a grave site.

"Hundreds of our brother's bodies are buried here." He stated matter-of-factually. There was no sympathy for the bodies that laid there, after all they were just that, bodies buried into the ground. Most Mandalorians were cremated, the only exceptions were in the cases of large amounts of death or special requests. But even then there was never anything as glamorous or expressive as a head stone. Instead there was merely a cleared area, void of trees and grass, surrounding the building.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]

Gregor had traveled with his cousin for some reason. Mostly is was curiosity, but the other part was to learn what happened to the homeworld of his fathers people. Growing up on concord dawn there were still strong presence of Mandalorian Culture, but being on its homeworld was totally different. His armor was of Mandalorian Design, but not made of the famed Mandalorian Iron, he was not skilled as an armorsmith, but as a farmer like his father. The gold layers on top of the black armor was his personal favorite coloring, but the sigil of the Clan Tal'Verda was clearly displayed on his shoulder. Like any true adopted Mandalorian, he wore his family mark with pride.

His black boots hit the Ash covered ground, the strong presence of death viberated through the force. Echos of screams and warcries weaved through his head as he lifted his body from the ship. It was his cousins craft, but as he wasn't a great let along good pilot, he let his cousin drive... a fatal mistake as his driving could make a rancor scream in terror.

"This feeling is unsettling Zaz, why did you bring us to this terrible place," Gregor lifted his hand to his head, switching off his HUB so the warning signs would stop blinking, "I can feel the dead locked in infinite battle with one another, a proper Mandalorian afterlife, but loud none the less cousin."

 

[Lucien Galtier]

Lucien wandered the desolate planet endlessly. He had come to Mandalore to find a new home. His old company of Republic commandos had been finally exhausted. The last of his brothers dead. As far as Lucien knew he was the only one left of the 228 Black ops division. The last vestige of the old Republic. He held no taste for the former Republic, but his brothers in arms, that was a different story. They had all died on Hypori. Now, he wandered aimlessly searching for new men to call comrades. He thought Mandalorians, soldiers raised from birth would be the perfect place for a man who had known nothing but war.

But, upon his arrival he discovered the planet to be a desolate graveyard with most of the old clans gone. So, his time off from the Imperial Remnant was spent wandering a back water world that had nothing for him. Or, so it seemed. Lucien had stumbled across a large structure, one of many that he had learned contained the bodies of a thousands warriors. He had no desire to enter and was preparing to finally leave this hellish place when he spotted a ship landing nearby. The first sign of life he had spotted since his time here. Lucien waved the vessel down as it landed, but they didn't seem to see him. The Vessel set down in a valley just beyond the hill he sat behind. Lucien crested the hill and from the vantage he spotted two Mandalorians exiting the craft. Lucien was shirtless and his bare chest was covered in soot. It got into his cybernetics and slowed their response time. It made for natural camouflage, but he doubted he'd need it when it came to dealing with the newcomers.

But, old habits died hard and he found himself thanking the gods for the natural advantage. Should they be hostile... Lucien patted his EE-4. If they proved to be enemies he would dispatch them. Lucien stooped low and creeped across the forsaken landscape. His eyes never left the newcomers. He watched them like a hawk and while he did he thought of the best way to kill them quickly. Lucien rounded the rear of their ship then fell upon them. He didn't raise his gun and portrayed himself as no obvious threat.

"Bonjour camarades, my name is Lucien. What brings you to this desolate place?" Lucien inquired.

His eyes never leaving their weapons.

[member="Gregor Tal'verda"]
[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"]

 

[ToKola Bakari]

Zaz glanced back to his cousin as he spoke of the dead. Normally he would dismiss Gregor's feelings as eccentric and continue on, however the aura surrounding this place was like no other. A hand came onto his cousin's shoulder, clasping it in reassurance. "I would not have brought us here unless I thought it was necessary Gregor. Trust me, I do not want to be here anymore than you do." He stated, confidence backing his words to be truth.

He turned from Gregor, turning his eyes back to the homestead that was before them. The grave house was home to armor, weapons, and equipment that had been held their through countless lives. Better they be in the hands of Mandalorians than lost to the endless sea of lava that threatened them.

"Our ancestors are buried here. Our brothers and sisters are berried here. We cannot save them from this hell but we could at least save their belongings. As a memento for future Mandalorians to see when they hear of their glories."

Glory. A thing now lost to Zaz's people.

He shook the thought from his mind as he turned back to Gregor. However, a voice cut through his concentration, pulling his attention to the man who spoke. As Zaz's eyes fell on him he wondered if he too was of the Mandoa, or was he merely another distraction.

"This desolate place was once our home. We're here scavenging for our heritage." He stated, lacking all sense of pride.

"What brings you here, are you of the Clans?" He asked, curiosity coming over him once again.

[member="Lucien Galtier"] [member="Gregor Tal'verda"] [member="Alice Tal'verda"]

 

[Jaster Awaud]

[member="Zaz Tal'Verda"] [member="Lucien Galtier"]

The Mandalorian grabbed on his chest piece as he snickered behind his helmet. The families of the Tal'Verda Clan seemed to have a large presence on Mandalor before the fall of the planet. Gregor was not part of the central family at this point, as such he didn't much care. He was a Clan Knight and his duty was to bring honor and protection of the Alor. Such was the reason he was following his cousin around like a loyal dog. He was mostly a serious person, but something about his cousin brought out the more childish side of him.

When he saw the man appear, Gregor looked to his cousin, his hand laid on his belt that was holding his lightsaber. The small hilt was hidden behind his blaster holster as he did not trust the soldier that appeared from the ashes. It was his cousins who was leading his clan with everything but name. He decided to remain silent as he and Zaz understood the chain of command between them both. Him asking questions would only become redundant.