Faction All Eyes on Us [Mandalorian Protectors & Allied Mandos]

[Mia Monroe]

The Oyubaat was packed, crammed with mandalorians from all walks of life, answering the call to gather and discuss their threats and future. The only free seats were at the bar, set aside for Arla Rodarch , Drego Ruus , Ijaat Mereel and herself. It was as close as they got to holding a council.

Mia didn't care for alor's being the only ones who spoke, every mandalorian had a right to hear the news, and the right to comment and put forth their ideas. It's what has always kept them on the same page.

You didn't lead mandalorians, you made suggestions and if they were good enough, they would follow.

A hush fell over the bar as she removed her helmet and set it on the bartop, accepting the drink from the tender before turning to address the room, a glance towards Ijaat to confirm she could begin.

“Su’cuy, vode. The restoration of our home is well underway but we still have a long way to go. We lost too many in Carnifex's assault, and the awakening of the Hydra within Sundari is a problem that needs to be dealt with sooner or later. We might have increased our numbers by bringing other planets into the fold but we are still in dire need of resources.”

Her sapphire eyes shifted over the crowd taking in each face and t-visor present, making note of those that weren't.

“In addition to this, threats loom on each of our borders. The Empire of the Lost, the Sith Order, and in the north, the Dark Empire.” Mia didn't want to fight in the Alliance's war, they had enough resources and men to fight their own battles. “We've already engaged the Order at Kaas, something they will not let slide and we owe our neighbours for their actions on Gala.”

“For the moment, the Dark Empire only exists as a threat to our allies and the Galactic Alliance are more than equipped to handle them. There are some within their ranks that would pay handsomely for us to stay out of it or even switch sides but we have enough to be contending with without getting tangled in that mess.”

“We need to strengthen our own borders, set up early warning systems and ensure that our forces are able to react to threats as they arise.”

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

Ijaat slid in as Mia spoke, walking up to the bar. This time he was in his own armor, his Journeyman trailing him. He wore gloves over his hands than bandages, but a careful eye would see that it was artifice to hide the wounds already present. But regardless, only the closest eye who knew him best could tell the signs of stiff movement, the odd strain to his aura in the Force.

As Mia finished speaking, he stepped up, removing his helmet with the ancient Mask clipped to it.

"Our borders, as Mia has said, should be our focus. We will expand and conquer, but from a place of strength and stability. We rise still, and will continue, as long as we do so with patience and wisdom. And there is no need to commit to do another's dirty work. The Alliance in an ally of the moment, and they pay well. And that is all they will continue to be. We are on no one's leash."

He spoke the last to quell murmurs he had heard rising in the ranks, as it were. Allies did not mean the Alliance called the shots, and that needed to be made crystalline.

Mia Monroe

 

[Arla Rodarch]

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Mandalore
Oyu'baat Tapcafe

Arla sat herself at the bar, laying her helmet beside her glass of Alderaanian wine. She knew much of what the Protectors had already faced to get to this point, and what they yet had to achieve. She'd fought the Sith, and dealt with agents of the Empire of the Lost. She'd worked to make the Mandalore Sector a safe and secure society.

Mand'alor then addressed the gathering after Mia had opened proceedings. This was how things were done among Mando'ade. You spoke if you had something to say. What you said mattered far more than who said it. Merit, not rank or birth, counted for most. Ijaat, like many successful chiefs of the clan chiefs, made sensible suggestions the vode wanted to follow.

"We have begun to rebuild our home. We have ships to carry our warriors and weapons for them to wield. In time we will build a Mandalore that can never again be brought low by the machinations of outsiders.

But our strength comes from one another, not from mere force of arms. We must continue to stand together, to work for one another. Unity is our greatest strength."

Though her contribution to the discussion might sound like mere platitudes, Arla had been sure to point out that the Mandalorian Protectors had rebuilt Mandalore to the point where Mandalore had a fleet and an army once more. They were no longer helpless, and that was important. Her focus was foremost on security of her leader, her world, and her people.

Arla had been a mother figure to the two young Rodarchs, Tuur and Vaar, and together with her partner, Arch, had tried to be a positive influence, and a guardian of them. She understood now why the Clan had such a tradition. She was learning a role that she could apply even to her task as Journeyman Protector. She had to nurture, as well as protect.

Arch stood off to one side, part of the discussion without partaking, as he usually did. He sat among old war buddies, his axe propped beside their table. Only the oldest among that group sat, the rest were on their feet. Oyu'baat was packed.

Mia Monroe Drego Ruus Ijaat Mereel

 

[Liorra]

Liorra sat closer to the front this time, unlike previous meetings at the Oyubaat where she had been in the back. A little older although, she wasn't sure about being any wiser. Lio listened to Mia Monroe and then to Ijaat Mereel and Arla Rodarch as they all but repeated what the Liberator had said. All there was, was the echoes of the sentiments that they would continue to rebuild but what did they have to show for it? Much of Mandalore was still a wasteland and there wasn't much in the way of actual agricultural lands.

"Forgive me," she said plainly, "but much our world is still a wasteland, there is not much agricultural landscape to speak of. Keldabe may have some new bulidings but much of that comes from outside investors." Setting her fizzyglug aside for the moment. Her lothcat Starlight on her shoulder, whilst the droid Rek remained at her table as she walked around it. "It's all well and good to talk about how strong we are from the inside, but there is so much to do."

"My grandmother, Valessia Brentioch has given me the means," Lio produced a small credit chip, it was black in color with a single aurodium lining and high end platinum engravings. "The means in which to rebuild, and rebuild quickly, and may I suggest reaching out to companies who specialize in terraforming. I was told that Arceneau Trade Company possess such technology. While we sit here running off and fighting Sith and Dar'jetii alike. Let us, as you say, focus on what needs to be done."

Liorra looked around at her fellow Mandalorians. "Let us also open lines of communications to Mandalorians beyond our borders, and let them know that should they have need for us. We are there for our vod, that neither the Netherworld or its Chaos-forsaken realms can keep us from them. By the Manda we must get ourselves together. We can fight all these glorious campaigns but it means nothing if we sit here twiddling our thumbs."

Drego Ruus | Kurayami Bloodborn | Open to all other Mandalorians​

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Oyu'baat Tapcafe - Mandalore
| Objective | Get a feel for the Protectors

Jenn remained wary of the Protectors and their intentions - but in her quality as Alor of Clan Kryze, she knew better than to turn up her nose at wayward vode. Politics, once thought a distasteful venture beneath her, now formed the greatest weapon in her arsenal. With her Clan setting down permanents roots on Onderon, she was free to pursue some networking opportunities. Arguably, none were more important than the one presented by the pretender to the title of Mand'alor and his (admittedly impressive) gathering of Mandalorians.​

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Flanked by two of her Nite Owls, the elite warriors who followed only her commands, the woman kept her arms crossed, watching and listening from behind the Y visor of her helmet, the stylized Jaig Eyes of her helmet casting a heavy gaze on those at the bar. The important lot, as she found herself designating them - the heart of this attempt at reviving a dead world, chasing the chimera of past glory. Although she maintained an open mind at the best of times, Jenn looked upon those inglorious figures of her people's past with distrust; those who returned from the great beyond were, as far as she was concerned, spurned by the Manda, to say nothing of Monroe's past deeds. If anything, that woman had been a cautionary tale to the siren, rather than an inspiring figure.​

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What truly made her bristle, however, was the talk of conquest. At her side, Karrys stiffened, turning her way to meet her gaze, taking great care to speak through their comms, rather than using the helmet's speakers.​

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"Sounds familiar, wouldn't you say?"​

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Jenn winced, inhaling sharply through her gills. Oh, yes, she had heard that sort of talk all too often before, and it took a conscious effort on her part not to tap Henryk on the shoulder and ask him to make way through the crowd for them to leave. Even if the Protectors turned out to be a little too closely related to the Crusaders in their long-term plans, it would be good for her to get a better feel for them.​

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"Yes, but this time, we aren't chained to these people by bonds of loyalty. Just keep your eyes peeled and your ears open."​

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"Elek, Alor."​

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There was a rather uncomfortable pause, then, as the three warriors of Clan Kryze looked to the would-be Mand'alor and his subordinates, digesting the words spoken by the three of them. At least, until Henryk, dour and quiet as he often was, let out a chuckle - prompting the pilot and the Alor to turn his way. Raising his hands up apologetically, he tried his best to stifle the sound into a cough.​

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"Kehehe- sorry. I was just... entertaining the thought of a proper bar fight. Alleviate some of that tension, mh?"​

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Karrys and Jenn both let out a groan simultaneously.​

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"Alright, that's it. Shoo! Shoo! Both of you, go find positions in the crowd, try to catch some gossip."​

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[Aloy Vizsla]

Aloy chuckled dryly, and winced as the old doors of the Oyu'baat opened and the familiar sound of politics made way to ears hidden beneath the old buy'ce. The veteran warrior, tired and worn by decades of war despite being eclipsed by at least a hundred years in the case of some elder protectors, did not laugh often. What little she did manage was often a bemused growl more than laughter, and today it had two meanings.

She was pleased to see that Liorra had also survived the battle of Yavin

and resigned to once again dip her cybernetic toes into Mandalorian politics. Something that had recently been some smug satisfaction for the once-alor of Clan Vizsla but also the source of much heartache and loss of faith in her own people more times than she could count. Speaking her mind before the Mando'ade had seen her rise to great power, been outcasted, her honor questioned by false prophets and seen her rise again. But it had also made her wiser to the nature of change.

She only hoped that the protectors and it's conglomerate were ready for change. She would not participate in another Enclave.


"I concur with the young Liorra" She called from across the Oyu'baat, marching closer to the center where the most influential figures had gathered to speak, escorted by a small number of her own Black Hand Marines, as her personal guard were all but wiped out during the Protector's recent campaign. Aloy held no authority over any but the ever growing, ever consuming Black Fleet, but with her lead on The Darksaber and so many allies gathering beneath her banner now, her influence was growing and she would be doing them and her clan a disservice not to attend these councils at every opportunity.

Interestingly, she gestured to the young woman with a severed arm, or the stub of one at least, blood still staining the bandages where she had been forced to part with yet another limb. It wasn't until she looked to give the girl a nod in greetings that she realized what had happened, and corrected herself by gesturing with her other, cybernetic hand instead.

"Mandalore's infrastructure remains otherwise crippled. A fact that saw the last Mand'alor defeated during the civil war shortly before abandoning his people all together"

She was of course referencing Kreslin Westwind or "Mand'alor the Reclaimer" whom she and many of the Enclave's clan had the displeasure of serving during the Shadow Crusade.

"But Monroe is also correct. We should be focusing on our own borders, our own people. We've had our share of hard fought victory, it's time we make good on them."

"But I'm not here simply to repeat the council's words back at you. I have a proposal of sorts"



Never being one to pass up an opportunity, Aloy brought up a holographic image of The Fortress Moon Concordia, it's butchered and weaponized equator on full display but so too would it serve to highlight the verdant forests and fields all around.

"Concordia once served as an orbital gun aimed at the heart of our people here on Manda'yaim. So of course the Dar'jetii left most of it's surface intact. I believe that Concordia may be the answer to both Mandalore's protection and resources.

I have already begun purging the world of the last Imperial remnant holdouts, a task that was unfortunately put on hold because of my additional duties at the recent battle of Yavin-"

She raised her bandaged stump to demonstrate the severity of those duties. That she wasn't just a puffed up commander with ambitions, but that she had fought and bled for the protectors just as her men had.

"-But I believe we can turn their now abandoned weapon against them, use it as an orbital weapon that can hammer any fleet foolish enough to endanger Mand'yaim ever again!

I would pool the Black Fleet's own resources into this, such as my own mining operations on Tatooine and Corporate holdings in the arms trade. We've already bought many orbital agricultural platforms meant to support the fleet, we could lend them and make use of the moon's surface temporarily.

Though I would prefer to shore up our defenses their once Mandalore has been terraformed enough to support it's own crops. Concordia should be a shield that takes the brunt of future attacks.

Mandalore deserves to rest..."


Those last mournful words hung on the air for a minute as she looked over the crowd, fang-flanked visor staring over them like a tired ghost.
But one with some fight left.

"Now, given that we'll be putting in the work, and the blood for this, and that Concordia is our home-" She stood a little straighter
"I would assume that Clan Vizsla's ownership of Concordia would be reestablished without objection. I seem to recall you saying something about recognizing the ancestral territories during the first of these councils, Al'verde"



Interacting: Mia Monroe Liorra
Other: Ijaat Mereel Jenn Kryze Arla Rodarch

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Kurayami stood off to the side, not talking for the moment. There wasn't much he had to add to a delegation such as this he was here to listen and see what the people had to say, which way they were going to take things. What would they claim was most important at this crossroads? Would it be expansion and conquest that drove the masses or would it or would it be the rebuilding of their powerbase first only to then work on expanding outward? So far it seemed that those who spoke up were almost evenly divided on the matter of which was most important at this time, not entirely unexpected but a bit saddening to see. It would be difficult to convince those who valued conquest that their goals were shortsighted and though the resources and manpower gained would be valuable, spreading the forces of a fledgling nation thin so early could easily spell their end.

Still he held his tongue, his voice held little weight in discussions such as these, no matter how well regarded he may have been by Mia Monroe or Ijaat Mereel or others of the old guard. He was one whose name was known by few and because of that his words would not move any to action. He slipped the flask out of utility belt and took a swig, if he did find a point that he felt others would value his input on, then he would interject, but that was not just yet and for now he was content.

Arla Rodarch | Aloy Vizsla | Jenn Kryze | Liorra

 

[Brooke Waters]

She didn't represent all the witches. Merely a subset. The Blue Coral Divers for sure. As well as a few related Clans. More septs really. Other reef related names. Water and sun spells. Ones who found protection under and supported through their own means, the Blue Coral Divers. The Dathomiri clans were not all that different than their Mandalorian counterparts.

Aside from the penchant for Beskar.

But with the war council Brooke Waters wasn't truly sure where she stood. The Mandalorians had taken in the Witches. And they were given a voice. And she had her own statements provided by her Clan Mother.

For now the semi-aquatic witch stood off to the side. Shorter in stature than most of the gathered but in a blue and white robe of a mostly revealing open weave, she was a witch and had no such discomfort in displaying herself. To her and her sisters it was common place. But what she did keep was her makeshift bandolier holding her knives and even lightsaber hilt. Over her should a bag they contained her slingshot and other witch gear.

This was much different than her role among the Jedi of Kattada.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

Beskar'gam
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| Location | Oyu'baat Tapcafe - Mandalore
| Objective | Deliver the owl's wisdom

"Conquest", the Alor spoke at last, her voice carrying with ease from her spot among the crowd, "has only ever led our people to an ignoble fate. It was true when Mand'alor the Ultimate led our people to our doom at Malachor V. It remains true today, with the Enclave collapsing on itself because its hunger eclipsed its claws." ​

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Jenn was long tired of playing along with the vain pretense of glory and nobility behind the aggression and expansionism that saw her people painted as barbarians by the aruetiise. If the Mando'ade wished to be known as more than violent warriors who chose to lash out against the Galaxy, then they had to be better. Whether or not the Protectors would care to listen to her words was entirely up to them; but the Ersansyr was no longer afraid of speaking her mind. The mantle of Alor, heavy as it was, had given her the confidence she needed to forge on ahead - no matter how far her path may take her from her people. Unconditional loyalty only stained her hands with the blood of the Enclave's victims, and she had no intention to repeat that mistake here. Not after she had come so far.​

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The thought was rather tempting, of course - and that desire was only stoked further by Aloy Vizsla 's intervention as she claimed Concordia in the name of Clan Vizsla. Oh, how easy it would be, to stake her claim on Kalevala, the ancestral home of Clan Kryze, and stand among her people once more. To live, fight, and die alongside those who pursued the path of the Mando'ade, and devote herself to something larger than her own Clan-​

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But she already had a home, and so did her warriors. For their heroic intervention in the liberation, the exiles were given the highlands to settle into; a notion that would leave some befuddled, if not infuriated. Oh, she could already hear their words! "We are Mandalorians, lions among sheep, and we take what we want!"​

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Those were her words, once, in those days where she yet called herself a fierce crusader, her thirst for glory blinding her to what she had become. By the time she awoke to the inglorious truth of just what war truly entailed, it was too late to make up for all of the bloodshed. She could only do better.​

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On most days, she felt alone in this perspective. Then again, she hardly ever cared to hide the notion that she held precious little respect for those self-righteous murderers among the ranks of her people, if any; that demeanor hardly helped when it came to building a vast network of allies, but made her professions of admiration all the more heartfelt and genuine. Surely, there was some irony in the truth that she held a Vizsla to be the one person she considered a peer - but, then again, Jenn was not the kind of person who allowed old rivalries and hatreds to dictate her assessment of others, as her unbreakable friendship with the Sword of the Jedi proved. Still bloodied from her battles as she was, Aloy Vizsla certainly cut an impressive figure! There was a woman who lead by example, diving head-first into battle, emerging from the fray with great wounds, yet stood unbowed.​

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Jenn knew that drive all too well. Even now, she remembered the feeling of a Sith's baleful lightning coursing through her during her bold offensive against an entrenched Imperial position on Onderon, and how agonizing the pain had been... to a creature of the sea like herself, the sensation was all but debilitating. But, much like Aloy, she remained strong, standing proudly and speaking earnestly, unafraid of the judgement in the eyes and visors of her kin around her.​

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[Liorra]

Liorra turned to see Aloy Vizsla and the young Mandalorian stepped aside so her fellow vod could speak. She listened and replied as if she were an older, seasoned warrior herself, and not the young child that Mia Monroe was still caring for. "A council that should be meeting more frequently, no?" Then there was someone she both recognized and didn't recognize at the same time, the markings were familiar to Liorra but the person who spoke might as well have been a foreigner to her. "Apologies, vod, some of us have not had the pleasure, care to introduce yourself?"

She couldn't quite place her finger on it but they felt familiar. Lio then considered what they were saying and yes time and time again, crusades and conquest had led to the demise of their people. "But when has conquest ensured the security of any nation?" Liorra turned to face Jenn Kryze and their entourage. "Have the Sith not fallen time and time again? The jetii have fallen on their sword several times before, have they not? I do seem to recall history teaching us of Lady Raaf's betrayal that led to a rather gruesome sacking of Courscant. One of the many times it has been sacked, and has not Corellia been torn into two?"

"One cannot simply turn away from conquest, you can call it anything else you like. An expansion of an empire, a desire for more resources, but at the end of the day. What we do not do, our enemies will and will ensure our own demise." She took a moment to let the words settle and then pressed on, "conflits will arise no matter what we do, but war, vod... war, well... it never changes."

"With respect, Mand'alor Ijaat Mereel is no stranger to these conflicts, or conquests, and neither is the al'verde. Our focus now, is to rebuild our home, surely when you and your kin arrived you see the devastation. While we have dealt with a blackwing plague, Sith incursion after Sith incursion, and even now Imperials bark at our doorstep." Liorra could see where people wanted to turn away, "you are right the self-righteous mindset will be the undoing of any nation. Look at past nations who thought themselves so highly, the old Galactic Alliance, the First Order, even the New Imperial Order saw their crusades as righteous."

"No one is immuned to it, but you vod, you offer a prespective that we need. Whether anyone else here admits it, that is on them. I for one welcome it, and just so you and I are on equal footing." Liorra took a moment and then introduced herself properly, "I am Liorra, Daughter of Shia Kryze and her wife Mishel."

Kurayami Bloodborn | Brooke Waters | Drego Ruus ​

 

[Domina Prime]

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Reached the top and had to stop and that's whats botherin me.
I wanna be a man man-cub! And stroll right into town!
ᖭ༏ᖫ
I wanna be just like the other men, i'm tired of monkeying around!
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Mandalorian Kin: Brooke Waters | Mia Monroe | Kurayami Bloodborn | Drego Ruus | Ijaat Mereel | Aloy Vizsla | Jenn Kryze | Arla Rodarch | Liorra



Tall, alien ears swiveled and perked as voices echoed across the assembly of her kin. Four claws awkwardly folded into her lap as Domina twiddled her claws awkwardly and listened to the voices of her kin as the heated warmth of the cursed phantom blade she had brought along with her groaned and sizzled a hiss in anguish at the sight.

The sight of what their people had become was too much for the ghost in the blade. Hailing from a time when the name MANDALORIAN caused the proverbial boots of The Galaxy to tremble and quake, jedi and sith alike. Their name was as feared as it was respected, but even back then. Since the fall of Mandalore The Ultimate the culture had taken an unmistakable spiral downward.

Dima didn't understand all the DEEP LORE and HISTORICAL FOLLY of her people though. She was just a girl from a cave who was taken in by a culture that…at its most basic level. Understood the primitive creature from the stars. But she could see how…emotionally charged it made her kin, when they spoke of the world 'Mandalore' and it's history. Committed to it's protection~

Dominas many eyes scanned the room as Mia Monroe spoke of securing and stabilizing their own borders for a rebuilding effort. Dima sat in her seat as if she were in class, nodding rapidly before jotting down into her diary!

'Rebuild brothers & sisters~' She scribbled in the worst handwriting known to man or xeno.

"Our borders, as Mia has said, should be our focus. We will expand and conquer, but from a place of strength and stability. We rise still, and will continue, as long as we do so with patience and wisdom. And there is no need to commit to do another's dirty work. The Alliance in an ally of the moment, and they pay well. And that is all they will continue to be. We are on no one's leash." Ijaat Mereel wisely stated, making Dima gasp and look back down at her diary again as she pondered what all exactly he said meant as she kicked her feet and swung them off the edge of her chair.

"Strength AND stability, yes, so wise!" She echoed, writing the words down and….misspelling them both.

Arla Rodarch was the next to state her piece, speaking of how MANDALORIANS were STRONGER TOGETHER, a notion that made Dimas ears flutter like butterfly wings as childish wonder filled her heart.

"If we are to end in fire then we should all burn together sweet brothers and sisters!" Domina BLURTED out aloud in sheer feral whimsy and delight, as if assured destruction was something that only brought the creature a sense of awe and wonder.

Aloy Vizsla said the most however, so many big words that Dima struggled to pin the basics into her diary as the woman explained her position regarding their crippled borders, their withering infrastructure and something about IMPERIALS an enemy whom…Domina disregarded almost entirely as an enemy since every time she engaged with them they were...less than worthy as true opponents that could satisfy Dominas HUNGER for sweet domination and subjugation. But still, the lady knew her stuff! Her brain must of been REALLY big.

"Wow, sister is super smart huh? She should be like, a champion general and stuff yeah?" Dima asked the phantom blade beside her as the assembly continued on.

The ghost blade, confused why Dima sat quietly in the back whispered to the beast.

"O Sweet Sister mine…lost little sister…precious. Little. Sister…why do you not let your voice be heard? Your flame shines as brightly as theirs~" The blade hissed, as if encouraging her to speak her mind which only made Dima lower her ears nervously.

"O-oh no Dima shouldn't. Dima doesn't have the BIG head thoughts that her brothers and sisters do. They'll just yell at Dima because This One is…just a stupid thing~" Dima murmured so weakly it could be described as a whimper. The Blade, enraged by such self doubt emboldened itself.

"O Precious Little Sister. Your mind may be in the clouds, but your heart and soul? FORGED in the light of STARS! For Starlight is your mother, and your father is the DARK!" The blade encouraged. "Your Domination…your destruction cannot be equaled. Your voice should carry weight O sister Mine, never doubt the beauty of your flame~" The Phantom cooed, making Dima bite her lip and look up at the assembly as they continued to go back and forth.

"W-well…Dima DOES have a couple ideas maybe but…This Ones never shared them with cousins before." She nervously mumbled as she fiddled with the skirt of her armor.

"O Inheritor Of Mandas Smoldering Embers. Take me into thy hand and speak your heart. Are we not STRONGER...together?" The Axe said, making Dima weigh her head from side to side as if pondering it over.

"Ya mean it? You'll help Dima share her ideas too?" She asked impishly as her tail bounced in excitement.

"I have witnessed you slay gods and beasts with a SMILE upon your face O Sister Mine. Brought destruction to enemies that could only be described as divine! They will hear you sweet sister, for have you not proven yourself as one of The Mandas FINEST daughters of destruction? Speak O sister mine. And i will bestow upon our kin the lost treasures of their ancestors. Technologies, resources and riches from a bygone Era! Is it not our NOBLE OBLIGATION to uplift our brothers and sisters? To END their STAGNATION?" The blade asked, making Dima giggle girlishly as she blushed from behind her Mandalorian Mask.

"Heh, well Dima IS pretty good at breakin stuff! In fact cousins say it's ALL Dima is good at!" She grinned wickedly and nodded. "Ok, Dima will tell her kin! But only if Dima gets the prettiest shinies first!" She mused, as suddenly, like a little girl in a classroom the 7 foot Mandalorian Xeno suddenly lifted one of her FOUR arms HIGH into the air, literally RAISING her hand for the assembly of cousins.

"Can uhhhh, can Dima share too?" She asked, waving her clawed hand in the air as that massive tail began thumping and smashing against the stone earth and causing reverberations to ripple throughout the gathering hall. "Dima promises she has good ideas for cousins! OH! And uhhh, Dima has a sister who wants to share too!" Domina grabbed the axe by her side and lifted it up into the air like some kind of barbaric maniac. "A Soul Sister! She says her soul is stuck in this axe and thats why it talks but Dima did not know an Axe COULD talk! says she has treasures and gifts for cousins who prove themselves as WORTHY INHERITORS. Dima don't know what that means but you guys are all super smart right? Maybe you can ask our soul sister?" She asked aloud, looking at Mia Monroe & Ijaat Mereel , before lowering the axe a bit and keeping her hand raised as if waiting for permission to present for the class, trying to time it right after Liorra spoke .

"Oh! oh! Pick Dima next!" She cried, lifting her arm even higher.

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[Mia Monroe]

Mia merely blinked at Liorra when she produced the black credit chip. Of course she'd had access to vast amount of wealth this entire time but hadn't thought to raise it sooner. Mia heaved a sigh and knocked back the drink in her hand, sliding the glass back to the tender. It was going to be a long afternoon.

"We can put a call out easy enough to business with the right tech to help us. Might even be opportunity to broker a few trade deals, give the economy an added boost."

Her gaze shifted to Aloy with a small smile, pleased to see her up an about again. "I gave you my word, Aloy, that we would not stand in the way of the reclamation of ancestral territories and I meant it. Concordia is yours, and if you need a hand to clear out any remnants, you have my aid also. not only to see the weapons redirected, but also to see it back in the hands it should be."

Her eyes narrowed slightly as they settled on Jenn Kryze.

"If this was conquest for the sake of conquest, I would agree with you, but its not. this isn't some ridiculous crusade into the core, this is about retaking the worlds that once belonged to us. This is about resources and gaining strength. Its about being able to stand independent of any galactic strength, and to be able to strike back at those that brought us and our culture to the brink of extinction."

Her eyes moved away to the unusual alien that called herself Dima. A long list of questions racked up in her head, like who the feth was she? and where the hell had she come from.

"Speak, Dima. but watch your tail, your upsetting peoples drinks."

 

[I'dadr Gargon]

This meeting emulated why I'dadr had been pushing to make Clan Gargon an affiliated clan in the Mandalorian Protectors and apart of this rising nation in the galaxy. There were some friendly figures like Arla Rodarch that was responsible for rearming his clan and helping provide some passive income to his people by allowing the Clan to have some stocks in Panthers Arsenal. She talked about unity, somthing she had practiced when helping I'dadr. The Mand'alor Ijaat Mereel and Mia Monroe also had made points about focusing on the defense of their newfound borders. This was somthing that the new A'lor could agree too, since the death of his predecessor I'dadr had been chosen as the A'lor of Clan Gargon.

This newfound responsibility had thrusted him from rallymaster to a man of responsibility of a clan. He had come here to make it official, that Clan Gargon, which had risen in numbers recently would join the Protectors. The planet Gargon had unified after the smaller clans chose to join Clan Gargon in return for security in numbers. This swelled the size of the clan to forty five thousand members now and government control of the planet of Gargon. Many joining after hearing about the Gargon secured partnership with Shuklaar Kyrdol Shrill and his corporations, and the economic deals made with Arla Rodarch and her Panthers Arsenal. Job security was on the mind of many desperate and decaying clans, the merger gave them a chance and gave the young dreamer a chance to make a difference for his home.

There was another young dreamer in this council as well it seemed, Liorra who was well spoken and truthful that an economic rebuild was also important if this federation were to last. While some in the council thought expansion was the way, he had agreed with his counterpart that infrastructure must be a primary focus as much as defense. Terraforming the capital hub and cultural hub of Mandalore was a must, however a mining company that could fuel resources to the economy is also important. He was not a smart man, but his rationalization was simple minded. No metal, no big bulkhead for ship. .

Then Aloy Vizsla spoke, mainly about turning Concordia into a fortress for the nation to defend the capital. This was a short term solution but not one that addressed several planets without fleet defenses. A Defensive Federation which is what the Mandalorian Protectors are, can only work if each Member Clan is self sufficient and has its own military separate of the Protectors. One which A'lors responsible of a Protector planet can call upon if the larger military of the Protectors is stretched too thin. Gargon for all its rebuilding only has a planetary army, but it does not have a fleet capable of defending itself. There are many other clans that have the manpower like Gargon but no funds to defend their planet. The Mandalorian Protectors will not last long if it has to spread it's military out with no concentration to focus on galactic militaries that pose a threat.

Before he could say a word of his ideas Domina Prime spoke passionately, however to his dismay he had no idea what she was talking about. No matter after she had finished, he spoke. "While I love the enthusiasm of our large friend here I would like to say that I agree with many motions here today. However in order to repair our infrastructure I believe we should not only employ a company capable of terrforming but we should form a protectorate owned mining company capable of providing resources to our nation. We must have the ability to be independent, that also means that every Affiliated system and clan needs to also have funding for orbital defenses. I agree in strengthening Concordia as this fine lady says. But that is not enough, I am I'dadr Gargon and with my new duties as A'lor of Clan Gargon. I would like to say that our Clan officially joins this nation, but my clan like many others governing planets. Do not have enough funding for fleet defense, if we want to avoid Mandalore being sacked and destroyed. Then we must give funding to poorer clans that govern our many planets. So that they can at least purchase one heavy cruiser for defense. This will give more flexibility to allow clans to defend against pirate fleets and will allow the main navy and army to better respond to bigger threats then pirates. We can not truly protect our people if we cannot fething defend ourselves. A high quality heavy cruiser provided to each Clan Governing a planet or moon will go a long way to that goal and give them autonomy needed so that our Protector Military is not too taxed."

There are many planets, moons, and stations owned by Protector members that have land armies. But have no fleet to speak of, while a heavy cruiser alone is likely not enough. It will give each clan a flagship to build around to defend there territory until the heavy hitting Protector military can come aid an attacked member. Gargon itself has land forces, and has the manpower to form a small fleet but like many other Clans governing territory no funds to make one. Border protection starts with every member of the federation being given some damn thing to protect themselves with. Atleast that is the thought of I'dadr.

 

[Korso Rook]

Underneath the mask Korso quietly seethed with rage. Truth be told he was always angry, but this council meeting gave him something to focus on. Some of his clan had resettled in Keldabe and yet many were still savage nomads eking out a miserable life in the wastelands. At last he could control his temper no longer.

"Such contempt for the old ways," he growled loud enough to carry, "I don't like drinking with cowards."

Korso slammed his drink down hard enough to shatter it. He stood up, tense and clearly ready to brawl. He did not seem inclined to agree with this brave new era of harmonious understanding.

"Clan Rook will destroy any offworld climate tech placed in our territory. This dependence is how they enslave us. Never again."

Mia Monroe Ijaat Mereel Liorra Jenn Kryze Aloy Vizsla Arla Rodarch etc.​

 

[Domina Prime]

​

Reached the top and had to stop and that's whats botherin me.
I wanna be a man man-cub! And stroll right into town!
ᖭ༏ᖫ
I wanna be just like the other men, i'm tired of monkeying around!
​

Mandalorian Kin: Brooke Waters | Mia Monroe | Kurayami Bloodborn | Drego Ruus | Ijaat Mereel | Aloy Vizsla | Jenn Kryze | Arla Rodarch | Liorra | Korso Rook



"O-oh sugarsnaps! Ok Dima you've practiced this!"

She azure xeno gasped in surprise as Mia called out to her, making the girl look to the Phantom Blade by her side as if looking for some kind of approval before squealing girlishly and reaching down beside her seat and SCOOPING up into her four arms a collection of projector devices as Dima then wrapped that massive tail around the handle of the Accursed Axe and just came loudly clanking & clinking towards the center of the room, the pile of THINGS in her arms blocking her sight as she stumbled about awkwardly like some kind of schoolgirl doing a presentation for the class.

The towering beast of a xeno bumped into I'dadr Gargon as he stood to speak his piece.

"While I love the enthusiasm of our large friend here I would like to say that I agree with many motions here today. However in order to repair our infrastructure I believe we should not only employ a company capable of terrforming but we should form a protectorate owned mining company capable of providing resources to our nation!" I'dadr began, proceeding to lay his case for their kin as Dima remained near him as if waiting in line for her presentation.

Domina stood there close by and listened. Nodding along before chirping from behind all the tech piled into her arms.

"Ah yes, brilliant as always, cousin!" She told him, uncertain exactly…what he was saying but figuring since he had said so much of it that he HAD to know what he was talking about! After all, Dima had faith in her kin to have the head thoughts and VISION to put the train back onto the rails so to speak!

However, the voice of Korso Rook rang out behind her.

"Such contempt for the old ways, I don't like drinking with cowards." The Mandalorian growled, shattering his glass and making Dominas tail rattle in agitation as The Axe caught within her grip hissed into the ear of Prime.

"Pay him no mind O sister mine, he speaks his heart as you do." The Axe cooed, making Dima frown as she walked into the center of the room, dropping the devices onto the ground in a loud CLATTERING as if dropping a platter of dishes.

"Dima? A coward? No, no this can't be." She echoed his words, those five eyes shifting their focus onto Korso as The Primearch clenched her jaws tightly.

"Focus sister! Focus! Let him posture. You are burdened with greater purpose, O Sister Mine." The Phantom Soul snapped, drawing the instinct in Dimas blood to answer the challenge to her might.

Prime? The First one in LAST ONE OUT? A coward? She who devoured gods for the fun of doing so? The sheer bliss and delight?

CLEARLY. This man could NOT have been referring to her. It wouldn't make sense! Dima knew how smart her people were and so completely disregarded the sheer MADNESS of his remark.

That was a problem he did not want. And Dima had to be a RESPONSIBLE big sister.

The Deranged Daughter of The Destroyer God shifted her eyes from him to the Axe, then back to him…then SLOWLY refocused her vision on the projectors she had brought up with her before scooping one of them up with her tail and bringing it to her claws, her lower pair of arms folding behind her back neatly while she brought a fist up to her Mandalorian Mask.

"AHEM! Ok here we go here we go so like uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhm!" Dima flicked a claw against the projector device.

What this device did was bring up a MASSIVE and visually impressive detailed simulation HOLOGRAPHIC design for what Domina had been working out with the help of Zel Sharratt , a Mandalorian Historian whom she had collaborated with to dream up a concept to END MANDALORIAN STAGNATION.

What the assembly did not know, was that these designs were still in progress of being PERFECTED, but Domina lacked the BIG BRAIN ideas of her brothers and sisters. She was merely a creature of DIVINE DESTRUCTION, A true daughter of Ha'rangir. But just as she dreamed of fields of flowers & fields of FIRE she too dreamed of an age where the mere name MANDALORIAN forced the GALAXY to shake in their proverbial boots. It was a name that was more than just respected, but FEARED.

Domina liked to be feared. But she also liked to be LOVED. The duality of her primitive and childish nature.

"THESE! Sweet brothers and sisters, are what This One calls a STARFORT! They are a SOLUTION to a problem Dima has been noticed since This One was but a hatchling. If we are not um, what is the word?"

"Meandering about. Lost & Aimless, petals in the wind~" The Phantom in the Blade uttered in disgust.

"Yeeeeah…that. Meandering about. Then we are USUALLY all…huddled up in one place. And then SOME of us get MAD when some of us do THINGS and the OTHERS of us get WEIRD and it's all very…ehhhhhhhh, ummmmm…conflicting. Because Dima thinks it's lovely that we have a planets we call home, but this one also thinks that as a warrior culture, one as SMALL as us. Embers of a lost culture the SITH call us. It only invites destruction when all that has to happen…" Domina took a pause and lifted her arm towards the ENTIRE ASSEMBLY AS IF TO SUMMON THE FORCE UPON THEM. Her focus intense, and the muscles in her body electrifying just to prove a point as they assembly would witness electrical energy crackle across her scales and armor as if preparing to unleash devastation upon her kin.

Many within the assembly, and understandably so. Drew upon their weapons almost instantly in sheer instinctive reaction.

OTHERS…who were more ATTUNED to the divine, force sensitive and observant. Would notice very quickly, in fact, before she had even taken the stage.

That she was DEAD in the force. A mere void…a black hole. Unloved by the gods…and from THE PALM OF HER HAND!

Nothing.

Just azure claws crackling with genetic electrical impulses as Dima smirked behind her mask and chuckled impishly as if playing a prank. The aim of laser sights focused on her dome and reflecting off her helm.

"Is THAT! Right there. A godling, just comes down from the sky. No jetpack just….flutters like a bird~" She gestured with her claws the flapping of wings. "And all that training…all that talent with a GUN. It just…disappears. As those touched by a divine being and bestowed gifts of power dominate over us again and again. The DESPERATION in how some of our kin fight sweet brothers and sisters is…………unbecoming. But fighting desperately is not going to do us any favors is it? When a Godtouched can just come to the heart of our people and just…reduce it to ashes."

Domina flicked her claw against the holo-projector, transforming the DESIGNS into visual simulation of the whole idea in motion.

​

"So Prime proposes an accord! And it's so simple, only THREE big words are needed! These designs show a MANDALORIAN STARFORT MONASTERY, a mobile city that drinks from the light of SUNS. Capable of light speed travel and generating an ENERGY SHIELD powerful enough to protect the monolithic city vessel in THEORY. Escorting these SAFE HAVENS of Mandas Sons & Daughters, will be a collective of protective ships capable of DOUBLING as lavishly constructed homes of various sizes for the clans of our people in need of shelter. Ships that can take a BEATING, less armed but made to withstand incredible destructive force! These ships will be able to touch down on the surface of plants and take ROOT, feasting from the very earth to sustain it's function while STARFORTS linger in the light of the sun overhead. Something that will be USEFUL FOR FUTURE OCCUPATION. We need to be able to appear just as quickly as we can VANISH. In the blink of an eye." Domina twisted her neck, crackling the bones as fire in her bones radiated through her crystal core. "Brother Zel Sharratt says it will allow us to SPREAD OUT and maintain authority and influence without putting in danger PLANETS whom, lets be honest brothers and sisters every time we do anything with some GODLING is always there, waving their fuckin…glowstick around and waving their hands cause their just so ABOVE it all." She waved her hands about as if she were preforming a force attack, spookily noodling her arms about before slapping her knee and laughing in amusement.

"Dima thinks it will be healthy for us, a religious journey through the stars so many of us may find ourselves again…at least those of us who are LOST. It would be nice, yes, to see a people healthy and thriving people not constantly getting bombed into oblivion and living either in ruin or aimless wandering. And this way, those of us rebuilding on Mandalore, can do so knowing that should the worst come. And let's be VERY HONEST brothers and sisters…the worst WILL come. We will at least have our HAVENS OF POWER, so that our embers shall forever be a beautiful flame." She pointed to the assembled kin of her people.

"But if we're going to wander, we shall wander in STYLE. And you know how we do brothers & sisters. When we ride we ride with TEETH!" She snarled, weighing her head towards the craftsman and weaponsmiths in the room. "And Dima is CERTAIN many of you have all kinds of TWISTEDLY DELICIOUS ideas for weapons of destruction. Which you will build…in the PROTECTION of these glorious vessels which Dima plans to bestow upon ALL of you. If you inherit the name of Mandalorian, these ships, these starforts…are by divine right. YOURS. The leaders of which can be decided either by combat, or election or whatever you guys think you you guys are smart. But uhhh, Dima wants one too so she'll fight for it!" She spoke to her people with such gusto and boisterous charisma that it was as if she didn't let the fact their worlds were in ruin distract her from the VISION of their ancestors. Who pillaged the cosmos and feasted till BURSTING at the seams.

"With the construction of these starforts. It will also allow the word of our god to spread. Conscripts to The Path. This much has already been done, Domina has been ... .incredibly BUSY absorbing WORTHY champions and primitive species in need of ENLIGHTENMENT to the way of the manda. Who knew Domina was such a…good teacher~" She chittered, her mind quickly wandering to the crimson twi'lek Sith whom she had displayed dominance over and converted among…a great deal of others. Small populations of the warriors from species whom she favored absorbed into the loving embrace of PRIME. "We need to stop dwindling DOWNWARD. It is time for growth. Those conquered and dominated need not be killed, many, if worthy enough. Can be fanned into a majestic flame. Even our enemies~ Dima would tell you all to start FUCKIN and havin some BABIES but the lack of STABILITY PARALYZES a lot of you! By the way, Dima is looking for worthy suitors. If and pretty boys or girls think they can handle your Prime~" She licked her lips, giving her taught flanks a deliberate slap as if to show off her incredibly...domineering physique. That part of her presentation sounded much more…PROBLEMATIC than the rest. But Dominas divine right to war afforded her GREAT SPOILS. Because unlike many, it took more than just a GOD to stop Domina Prime.

Usually. It took at LEAST three. So she had been endlessly snatching whatever she could take, and if no one could stop her it deserved to be hers. Case in point, the mysterious Axe wrapped up in her tail, seemingly flaring with warmth the more Dima presented with her plans.

"And lastly…umm, yeah, Dima KNOWS a lot of you are thinking 'she's crazy, we can't afford houses yet alone parts for ships and starforts!' and you are right! As usual, you guys are smarter than Dima. BUT…never say Prime does not provide SOLUTIONS!" Domina left the projector going in the center of the room. Letting the audience feast their eyes upon the mad dreams of a tyrant! But just within reach…

Domina stood mere inches from Ijaat Mereel & Mia Monroe , also standing close by to Liorra holding in TWO of her clawed hands that strange Axe that Dima had been…speaking too since the start of the meeting.

The Phantom in The Blade, sensing the presence of WORTHY DESCENDANTS in its presence whispered so sweetly it was as if song. And when it spoke, only a few within th crowd could hear it's voice. Those force sensitive and non force sensitive could hear it, but only those DEVOTED to the OLD GODS. Something which, these days, was largely lost on the culture and the only reason Domina, a self proclaimed Daughter of The Destroyer Ha'rangir heard its voice so CLEARLY.

But Mandalorians in the room who have tasted destruction and the pleasures of DIVINE WARFARE it's voice would sing to them.

"Hear Me, O Kin of Mine. Lost Kin of Mine…sweet sons and daughters of Mandas Majestic Flame. True INHERITORS, seek POWER & FIRE…all else will follow~" The Axe told them, a simple premise. One that meant many things.

Not that Dima, sweet girl that she was, knew any of what it meant. She just knew she liked fire and how pretty it shined. And POWER afforded her the means to drown in endless PLEASURES. So in the end, it was easy enough for her to understand.

Ijaat and Mia however, may have found deeper meaning in the words.

"No no Soul Sister! Tell them about the SHINIES! Not the…weird spooky stuff!" Dima scolded the phantom. The Ghost Blades……….inability to STEER the azure creature making it sigh deeply.

"Ah yes, of course. From a long lost era, a bygone age. The Treasures of a Thousand worlds locked in ancient vaults and stashed in the MOLTEN CORE of worlds lost and rediscovered. After the fall of Mandalore The Ultimate in my mothers time, the fall of our culture was foreseen. I, Furyia and the last remaining true sons & daughters attempted to stoke the flames, bringing war to thousands of worlds in attempts to stir the remnants people. We feasted upon jedi, sith, and Mandalorians UNWORTHY of their name. Taking the riches and hiding them away for future descendants, in hopes that one day, TRUE INHERITORS would adopt the creed, and with The Starmap & The Key, RESTORE the Children of Manda. So that our Eternal Flame of war shall blaze brightly once again. Technologies from destroyed civilizations, jewels from plundered lords of decadence and stagnation. Ships, resources for the MACHINE OF WAR." The Axe spoke, and only spoke BECAUSE it was in the presence of POTENTIAL INHERITORS of The Flame.

"Mmhm, mmhm, what Soul Sister says! Dima LIKES jewels." The domineering figure chirped impishly as The Axe burned brightly with flame, sensing the force sensitivity of Manda'lore The Re'kindler & Mia Monroe.

"An Age Old Bond, sweet descendants. A promise long lost. To you, I would NEVER tell a lie. I want nothing from you but for you to be BEAUTIFUL. Turn smoldering embers into precious flames! It is my greatest dream, sweet little brothers & sisters. The only dream i have ever had~" The Axe's Spirit cried, it's flame then slowly withering back down as Domina did not possess the force energy to feed it and thus the blade tended to just whisper in spurts and moments. But emboldened by the presence of it's potential inheritors, it's proverbial heart swelled in an attempt to communicate to them.

Domina grinned wickedly, clutching the Axe still as if she did not want to let it go.

"The AXE is the KEY…" Domina dragged her claws along the blade. "And Dima thinks she and Zel Sharratt have figured out how to find THE STAR MAP." She giggled in sheer blissful delight as she twirled on the balls of her feet and SWUNG the axe through the air like a manic barbarian. "And once we DO. The race is ON. If we find these treasure vaults you KNOW the godborn are gonna show up to RECLAIM their lost riches and STOP US from claiming OUR BRITHRIGHT! BUT FUCK THAT! Domina Prime will be leading the incursions on these vaults when they are discovered. Because PRIME will not be STOPPED by a GOD or a MAN!" She snarled viciously as she dragged the axe across the floor.

And then, at the drop of a hat Dimas ears perked up and she looked around the assembly.

"Dima did really good huh? This One can tell, you're all stunned in silence! But rejoice!" She cheerfully quipped as she giggled in innocent delight while playing with the haunted Mythasaur Axe in her claws.

​

 

[Ijaat Mereel]

Raising his hands, Ijaat stepped forward. Some quieted. Some did not. A barking growl came forward then. The old training sergeant and master smith, the soldier, came out rather than the patient father and diplomat.

"SILENCE!"

The growled command drawed on in a long echo as he spoke it, and he held the eyes of the room by sheer presence and no Force trickery. It had always been a capacity of his.

He gave a moment for the effect to spread, or this meeting would swiftly turn to chaos, then he turned to begin addressing concerns in time, a nod and a patient finger to Domina Prime and her... Talking Axe.... That one needed pondering before addressing it anyway.

" Aloy Vizsla , you speak sense. You shall have the garrison under my son on Concordia to help you. And myself, if you wish it. I only ask the natives in the wastes be left to their nomadic ways, and some wastes left to them to live their lives as they see fit and desire... Concordia is the domain of Clan Vizsla in the eyes of the Protectors, and any challenging that claim challenge myself."

With that cleared, he turned his eyes across the room, but there was a special lingering on Jenn Kryze .

"For those worrying, or mishearing, we aren't talking of an empire. We're talking of rebuilding from a place of strength. Of restoring our borders and home, starting with the latter first. If that is too much for you... Well...Speak your peace, but if you're not here to help... Then... "

He extended his hand up and pointed to the door of the tavern and let the armored crushgaunt fall, clanging with finality against the beskar of his armor.

I'dadr Gargon was addressed next, and the elder goran actually smiled.

"Our fleets are a sore and weak spot, stitched together relics and piecemeal. Any advice and help is welcome. I am at your service, or if you would rather, Drego Ruus speak with my voice in such matters of logistics and war. Seek him for details."

Next, the Mand'alor turned to Korso Rook . Here he drew a kal knife of simple mythosaur bone blade and hilt, wrapped in soft leather of unknown origin. He offered it hilt first and stood facing the Rook, spreading his arms to his side. The look was full of understanding as he spoke.

"I will never jar the songs of the Clan Rook. You are an honorable people. Your territories will remain the harsh teacher I came to love early in my reign when you sheltered and took me across them. I propose, even more, that the ori'ramikad of the Protectors be sent to Clan Rook in this proving grounds of their ancestral home, so that they learn of the old ways, even if they chose not to hold them in harmony once they depart. A sign of respect for your talent and capability. But if this is not enough, you have my knife. We can draw a circle and I will stand against you to prove my worth to say these things."

Mia Monroe was going to kill him for offering himself to Rook like that, but it would speak to the man's honor and purpose, and recognize his capability.

 

[Brooke Waters]

Brooke was already a bit shocked by the gathering. The amount of beskar alone was a whole lot of credits rolling around. She was never going to go after Mandos, even in her bounty hunting days. Now, as an explorer, sometimes racer, and a witch? Even less so. But she was still here to listen. She had no real opinion on the war front. She was here to ensure that the witches were not abused.

Or used in a manner that was unbefitting.

“Before we go too far off into one side, the Witches of Dathomir are here. I know my Clan can assist in protection and possibly scouts. I cannot and do not speak for the other gathered clans of Dathomir.”

 

[Fenn Stag]

Fenn looked up from his position, helmet on the table in front of him, eyes narrowed in their usual hateful way. A rambling madwoman ranted about vaults and birthrights. Fenn paid little mind to it. It was the ramblings of insanity and foolishness.

"We should claim our birthright- the Mandalore system. Anything beyond our borders is unnecessary bloat and mess."

He looked around the room.

"We can claim back what is ours, but we should refrain from flying too close to the sun again. It is my belief that the Mandalore system should be our only concern. Expansion breeds nothing but problem, of which we have seen time and time again."

The son of Preliat Mantis stood up, intently listening to each participant. He picked up his drink, nodding along.

"For Mandalore, and nothing else."

 

[Drego Ruus]

​

Drego's life had recently become a mess of paperwork and logistics. Meetings like this called to him though, even if he was late to them.

The sound of Domina Prime rang through the warmaster's ears.

"Yeah yeah, I'm working on the fleet right now." He made a tired gesture as he walked in, looking to those around him. " Shuklaar Kyrdol 's boys are currently in the process of making us a battle rifle, and I'm half tempted to ask him to make everything from walkers to dreadnaughts, given his resume."

What did he want though, as a Mandalorian?

"As for what I think we should be doing, I think the elimination of our enemies is paramount. The Empire of the Lost and their so called Emperor are a prime target, and if our vod seek conquest, then we are more than obligated to give it to them in the direction of those that deserve our ire. The dar'jetti are another, but they require a bit more care in planning. I want our vod to stand tall, be respected as the best warriors in the galaxy, but not at the expense of the innocent. I've seen the evils of the galaxy, as a soldier, and as a bounty hunter. The Protectors should be about being that forward spear against those who seek to harm the undeserving. At least, that's my take. Good, Evil, you can argue it all day. I just don't deal with anyone who calls themselves Emperor of anyone."

 

[Aloy Vizsla]

The meeting quickly became overwhelming to the senses, with many voices overtaking the once orderly quiet between turns. Korso Rook seemed ready to brawl at the drop of a hat calling someone a coward, prompting the old Vizsla to hold the forging hammer about her waist, even if she was sure that Rook meant those words for someone else. She led the shadow crusade to defend this rock, abandoned by her Mand'alor and the Enclave alike. At least a thousand men- Sith agents and Imperial remnants alike- had fallen by her own hand, to say nothing of the destruction her Black Fleet had reaped from here to Trade League space.

Aloy Vizsla a coward? Even those ignorant of Mandalore's history within the past few decades could at least see that she had the wounds to prove otherwise.

Then there was Domina Prime , or "Dima Vizsla" as the wandering Sith-Eater had been called when they were first introduced. Prime was mostly a child when last they met and in a way she still was, putting her own lengthly speeches during the crusade to shame. It was hard to follow, and frankly the talking axe had her just as confused as nervous.

Where the Force and Magic was, ruin followed.

Thankfully, Ijaat Mereel brought about some form of order. In the short time the protectors had organized, the Vizsla had rarely heard him speak, let alone shout. And so for the very first time since she had joined this rugged band, He had her undivided attention.

you speak sense. You shall have the garrison under my son on Concordia to help you. And myself, if you wish it. I only ask the natives in the wastes be left to their nomadic ways, and some wastes left to them to live their lives as they see fit and desire... Concordia is the domain of Clan Vizsla in the eyes of the Protectors, and any challenging that claim challenge myself."

"You have my thanks, Mand'alor, and that of Clan Vizsla"

It was the first time she had used the title aloud since Kreslin Westwind abandoned her, and the first time she had performed a Mandalorian salute in the honor of any living being since even before that. She had recognized not a single authority but her own since the second collapse of Mandalore, but for now at least, Ijaat Mereel was the closest thing to it. Some would call that change of heart sudden, but Aloy had seen commanders come and go for longer than some warriors here had lived save figures like Ijaat and Mia who predated the others by at least a hundred years, she could tell in that moment that she had misjudged Mereel, even if by what extent remained to be seen.


"We will begin shortly, though on the subject of ships... this will occupy The Black Fleet for some time. In the end though, it will become stronger for it"

With that settled, she turned away so that others may speak while she and her marines set about ordering the rest of the fleet to begin it's return to Concordia.

Others spoke up as she cleared the Oyu'baat center, including Ijaat again as he addressed them. She found herself once again in the strange position of agreeing with Fenn Stag , who had either changed since that day on Kestri or perhaps circumstances had simply allowed them to become united in opinion more often than before. She doubted it would last long, but still afforded a deep nod in agreement as she passed by.

It was time to focus on the homefront. On what mattered.

To that end, she stopped close by Jenn Kryze , the woman who had risen claim leadership of the legendary Nite Owls after Aloy herself had given up on the order in favor building her own Black Fleet, their faded emblem still clinging to her pauldron like so many scars.

They had met before of course, and their temporary alliance had proven fruitful to Aloy at least. She knew Kryze to be a woman of honor and courage, and frankly Mereel's dismissal of the woman was somewhat frustrating. Even so, she understood how it looked. Jenn Kryze was as Aloy had typically been: A wild card with no regard for any authority but her own. Respectable for certain, but unnerving to those who were unused to the particular lifestyle they lived.

"Kryze'alor" Aloy would bow her head some in greeting.

"Perhaps we might speak some when you are done here? We've only spoken a few times before, I'd like to change that"

Of course she had more than idle chatter planned if they were to converse, but that was House business, no need to add her dealings to the already chaotic cacophony of voices burdening the Mand'alor's ears.